Disclaimer: I do not own A Song of Ice and Fire.

Another dragon, another wolf, another stag

Chapter 15: Aegon

"Talking"

"Thinking"

(Location: Riverrun)

Every time he saw his sister, his eyes would go to Mya. And every time they did, she would ignore him. This was the case even now, as he ran across her, Rhaenys, and Jocelyn walking alongside their cousins, both bastard and trueborn. It was Arianne who saw him first and that he was walking alongside Arya Stark. "Oh no," he thought to himself as she smiled. He knew that smile. It usually brought along mischief.

"My, my, what do we have here?" his cousin remarked, getting the attention of everyone.

But before she could say anything more, he stopped her. "Don't say it, Arianne. No one needs to hear it, not even as a jape. Whatever it is you're thinking in that head of yours, keep it there."

She frowned at him. "You do not know what I was going to say, coz. Don't assume my words."

He just gave her a long look. "You were going to comment on how we look like my father and Lyanna Stark come again while possibly putting yourself in my mother's position." She didn't say anything in respond which meant that he was right.

Arya Stark looked at both of them with a curious look. "Why would she say that?" she asked. All eyes fell on her when she said that.

Nym scoffed. "You can't be that blind," she told the girl.

"There's no need to be rude, Nym," Rhaenys told their cousin before turning her attention to the young girl. "My lady—"

"I'm not a lady, that's Sansa," she said quickly with a frown on her face that almost felt endearing to the prince. Mya kept her face expressionless and Jocelyn rolled her eyes in exasperation. But it was his cousins and sister who were most surprised by her outburst.

As always, Rhaenys was the first to recover. "In that case, I shall call you Arya."

"That's fine. But why would she say something like that?" She looked over at Arianne with a look that seemed to be equal part confusion, curiosity, and accusing.

His cousin was the first to answer her. "You have a resemblance to Lyanna Stark and you walk alongside Prince Rhaegar's heir. If there was someone else who saw this, tongues would wag."

The Stark looked at the Martell and said, "I look nothing like my aunt Lyanna. She was beautiful."

She stared at the Stark in the hall and so did everyone else. Jocelyn had a frown on her face, Mya looked neutral, and the Sand Snakes didn't care. "You bare her resemblance quite well," Aegon's sister told her.

"She was beautiful, just like Sansa's beautiful. I'm just Arya Horseface." There was a dejected tone in her voice, like she was used to knowing that and had accepted it. It was a little unsettling for Aegon to hear in such a young girl.

He looked at his cousins, already getting a bad feeling. And he was right. Nym and Tyene were already looking at her like she was a doll waiting to be dressed up. The last person they had gotten their hands on didn't even last a week and reportedly ran screaming from their rooms and joined the Silent Sisters (or so he had been told). "Perhaps we can help you fix that," Tyene said.

"Why?" the little she-wolf asked like it was something confusing. "I don't want to be stupid like Sansa or you."

The interested looks on their faces turned into angry ones. "I beg your pardon?"

"Everyone calls you Lady Nym or Lady Tyene. If they call you ladies, it means you act like ladies, which means you act stupid. I'm not going to be a lady, not now, not ever."

"Oh, and what are you going to be?" Jocelyn asked her in a long suffering voice. Clearly, she had been through this before.

"A knight of the Kingsguard," her half-sister declared proudly. It just made Aegon's sister and cousins start to giggle wildly and Aegon stare at her. He couldn't believe that she had said that out loud.

Jocelyn just rolled her eyes. "That's a new one," she declared. "I thought Bran was the one who wanted to be a Kingsguard."

"I don't want to be one. I'm going to be one."

"Arya, a girl can't be a Kingsguard. A girl can't even be a knight."

She frowned at her older sister. "I'm learning from a knight, Brienne of Tarth. She is teaching me a lot of things."

He didn't know why he decided that was the moment to open his mouth and speak out, but his lips were already moving. "And she's not wrong about her becoming a Kingsguard," he told his family.

"Why?" asked Rhaenys.

"I made a promise with her and one of the Kingsguard witnessed it." As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew that he had the attention of his cousins. Sometimes, that wasn't a good thing.

"Has she now?" Arianne said, looking down at Arya whilst fiddling with the jeweled necklace she wore. She often did that to people, making it look like she was paying attention to what they were doing but was paying more attention to what she was wearing at the moment. He didn't know if she did that on purpose to irritate people or not. He found it was best not to ask.

But Arya seemed to not care about what the princess thought. She was too focused on the necklace. "That's a wolf's eye," she suddenly declared, pointing at the main jewel on the necklace.

She stopped with her fiddling and looked at the girl. "I beg your pardon?"

"That gem you're wearing, it's a wolf's eye gem. See?" She leaned her finger in closer to the yellow gem. "There's a little bit of black in the middle, the jewelers made it like that. That's why it's called a wolf's eye."

Aegon knew he was looking at her with sense of surprise. This little wolf was surprising him again and again. One quick look told him that he wasn't the only one who felt like that. "How do you know that?" Tyene asked her.

"The jeweler set up shop in the winter town. He takes the gems brought in from the mine, cuts them the right way, and sends them to White Harbor to be made into jewels," she explained to them all.

Arianne took her hand away from the necklace, a mixture of confusion and uncertainty painting her face. Aegon knew why she had that face on. That necklace was one of, if not the most, her favorites to wear. However, she also claimed to dislike anything and everything that came out of the North. (Although given how the past few days have gone, that could be disbelieved). Obara looked disinterested in what the little wolf was saying, choosing to just scowl at her like she had done something wrong. Nym, however, was intrigued. "What mine?" she asked. "I wasn't aware that the North had a gem mine."

"There are," Arya said, excitement bubbling up in her voice. "It's called Wolf's Pond and that's because there's this big pond in the center of the mine that shines or glows when light hits just right. When it does, it reflects off the veins nearby."

"How would you know this?" Rhaenys asked her.

She turned to look at Aegon's sister, her eyes bright. "I was taken there once. It was a beautiful place that I've never seen before."

Aegon shook his head ruefully at that proclamation. Clearly, Arya Stark had never been outside of the North. She had never seen Highgarden or Storm's End or even the Water Gardens. He saw Rhaenys have the same look on her face. But then she looked at him and the look disappeared. Instead, there was a look in her eyes that said they had to talk. It was a look that she had used often. But he couldn't just tell Arya to go away. He might be the Crown Prince but that was still rude.

"Lady Stark," Mya said suddenly, breaking her silence.

"I'm not a lady," the Stark replied, frowning.

She didn't even blink at the response. "Arya, might I be permitted to meet your direwolf? I believe that is the only one I have yet to see."

"Sure," she declared, losing the frown. Without preamble she grabbed her hand and started leading her away from everyone else, pausing only to give a brief "Bye, Aegon!"

"If any of you were wondering, yes she is always like that," Jocelyn said once the two had vanished from sight.

"We weren't," Obara told her curtly. She winced a little at those words like they stung her personally.

"I was, Obara," Arianne said, that amused smile back on her lips. "She reminds me of myself when I was younger."

Jocelyn Sand snorted at that. "I remember you when you were that age, your Highness. You might've been running around but you were more like Sansa then Arya." This time when both the Princess of Dorne and her bastard cousins turned their foul looks on her, she met them easily.

"This might become ugly," Aegon thought as he watched this happen. Even though she was from Dorne and Lady Ashara's daughter no less, he saw that Jocelyn was treated awkwardly by the Dornish here at Riverrun, most by Arianne and the Sand Snakes. On the one hand, she was a bastard of Dorne but on the other, she was the daughter of Ned Stark, the failed rebel.

Fortunately, as always it seemed, his elder sister came to the rescue. "Jocelyn, could you see that I'm prepared for tonight?" she asked her friend. Jocelyn didn't say anything in return, only nodding and walking off. Arianne and the Sand Snakes also took their leave, off to do something.

"What is happening tonight?" Aegon asked his sister once they were alone.

"We're coming to your court."

It was only when she said that he remembered. But he chose not to focus on it. "What did you want?"

"You know you can't have Arya Stark as your Kingsguard," she said without preamble. "It will set the entire court to wagging their tongues, not to mention the entirety of the Seven Kingdoms."

"But I don't even consider her in that way! For the love of the Seven, she's only a child." That was a horrifying image to even consider!

But his sister wasn't having any of it. "That child will become a woman soon enough, one who will look like her dead aunt most likely. Our house has already gone through something like that and we lost our uncle because of it. Do you really want to be the cause of the next one, Aegon?"

What she said did make sense. He knew that much. But he wouldn't let that happen. "She's going to be a part of my Kingsguard. I've made the promise and it was witnessed. If I have to make her work for it, I'll give her a task. Bringing back Blackfyre should be enough." No one knew where the legendary sword of House Targaryen was now, although he had heard a theory that the Golden Company had it.

But Rhaenys still didn't look convinced. "And when she's comes back with Blackfyre in hand, most likely looking like Lyanna Stark?"

"I'm not going to fall in love with Arya, Rhaenys. You know that my heart belongs to another."

"Yes, the lady Margaery."

Rage flashed through him at her name. "That's not who I meant and you fucking well know it." He hated how she danced around the issue, just like their parents did. No one ever confronted him about who he loved, even though they could all see how blatant it was. Even he knew it that was how blatant it was.

But she ignored him like she always did. "Will our man be attending your court tonight?" she asked, making it sound like their previous topic didn't matter.

He restrained the urge to tear at his hair because he refused to give her that satisfaction. They could both play at that game. "I sent a servant with an invitation to him. If he doesn't accept, I'll just hold the court in the godswood since that's where he'll be."

She smiled at him. "Thank you, Aegon. Tell me, what do you think of Jon Dualfang?"

"He's nice enough of a fellow but quite quiet and solemn," he said without thinking about it. "If I'm honest, I don't know what you and the ladies see in him."

"Do you remember what Father and Mother always said about meeting Starks?"

"Yes." It had been an odd thing to hear and he had hardly thought of it since. Then again, he had always made sure to meet Arya while it was still light outside.

"It happened to me with him, twice. What they say is true."

He heard those words and suddenly understood. She had played the game before, he knew that. But the way she played now, it was different. She was focused and determined, actually determined to win the bastard's favor and love. It was actually a little frightening to look at. "Perhaps I should cancel tonight?"

Her hand reached and grabbed his arm tight enough for him to yelp in pain. "You will do no such thing," she hissed into his ear, getting so close to him that it would've looked like they were hugging from a stranger's eye.

Her hand started to squeeze tighter. He could feel the loss of feeling in his arm. "I was trying to be considerate!" he told her through the pain. "You were the one who just told me to be careful with a trueborn Stark!"

"And?" she asked. She didn't squeeze any tighter but her grip did not lighten.

"Well, I had thought that you would take your own advice."

"I would, little brother, if I was worrying about a trueborn Stark. But I'm not." The intensity in her eyes never wavered. It was a little terrifying to behold. "I've seen how the other ladies look upon him. They want to devour and leave him to be an empty husk."

"And you don't? You're playing the same game they are, Rhaenys." He tried to get feeling back into the arm without any success. "Could you let go of my arm now, please? I need it." She didn't answer him but she did let go of his arm and walked away.

He stood in the corridor, working to make sure that he still had the ability of movement in his arm. He watched his sister leave him there and sighed once she was out of sight. He loved his sister dearly but there were times that her tenacity frightened him. And this had to be the most tenacious he had seen her yet. "All of this over a bastard?" he couldn't help but ask himself as he walked away too. But he couldn't point fingers, not with who he loved.

That night, in the godswood, he sat on his personal throne and watched his court. There wasn't much to those words, since his "throne" was a stool that had been taken from the kitchens and his court hardly needed him watching them. But he was to be king and the people there in the woods with him would be lords and ladies of the land one day. So he would have to watch them all.

But even as he observed all, his eyes kept falling back to Jon Snow. The bastard was not an actual part of the revelry, unlike the rest of the Northmen there. He sat off to the side in silence, watching it all silently. "Does he see the ladies all looking at him?" Aegon wondered, looking at the women there. Even though they jest, japed, and laughed with other men, their eyes kept falling to the bastard. But he never met anyone of them in the eye, keeping his own pointed to the ground, to the wolves nearby, or to his small group of friends.

Aegon eyed the wolves. Despite that only Robb Stark and Jon Snow were there in the godswood, all six of the direwolves were all in attendance, watching what was going on with eyes that spoke of disinterest. Only the wolves named Grey Wind and Ghost were near their respective masters, the others sat at a distance. But he took note that even though that they sat apart, they were close enough to reach Jon Snow.

He walked over to the bastard, ignoring the look he knew that he would be getting because of it. "You seem to have guardians, Jon Snow," he remarked, looking at the wolves nearby.

Jon Snow was a bit surprised when he had come over to talk to him but he quirked his mouth into a small smile when he looked at the wolves. "Aye, they've been like that recently, ever since…" He looked over at where Tya Lannister sat and fell silent.

But Aegon was curious. "Since what?" he asked.

"I would not speak about it, your Highness."

"And now you have me curious." What happened between him and the Lady Tya? He wanted to know.

"I do not think it would be wise to talk about it, your Highness," the bastard said with a hint of stubbornness. "To do so would most likely bring down embarrassment and humiliation. I do not wish to inflict that."

If it had been anyone else Aegon knew he would've mentally called them a liar. But in the few instances that he knew Jon Dualfang, he knew that the bastard was no liar. He was moody, somber, and more inclined to hide away, but he was not a liar. But still, what he wasn't trying to say was very intriguing to the prince. "Did one of the ladies take the first victory of his chaste lips?" he asked himself. Almost as soon he did, he had to fight down a snigger. The thought of chaste lips amused him. While Jon Snow was a confessed maiden, he was certain that the lips had kissed someone, perhaps even Tya Lannister. "Oh, that would drive Rhaenys to anger."

"You're doing this small court of mine a disservice, Jon," he said without preamble.

The bastard looked at him, surprise and worry lighting up in his eyes. "I have?" he asked, trying his best to hide the nervousness in his words.

"Aye," Aegon replied, gesturing to the ladies at his court. "You have all these lovely ladies to talk to and yet, you do not."

Jon Snow was surprised and looked at the women there. It was a quick look to confirm that they were there, not long enough to get their attention. "There are men of noble birth here, even my friends here can claim that," he replied, look over at Samwell Tarly and Aegon's own cousin.

"Yes, and they sit here with you instead of talking to the ladies." None of them could look at him in the eye, which amused him. "Come on, coz," he said to Quentyn, "I know that you've got some eyes for some of the ladies here. I'm certain that you've been eyeing the lady Margaery."

Quentyn went beet red. "I-I wouldn't…Aegon, she's your betrothed," he spluttered.

He couldn't help but laugh at his cousin's reaction. But even as he laughed, the laughter died away in his throat as he saw Jon Dualfang. There was anger in his eyes but it smoldered, for now. The man was becoming angry that his friend was being made fun of. Given how easily he was bested at the sword against him, Aegon decided to stop where he was. "A jest, Quentyn, I only meant it in jest," he told his cousin, walking over to him and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Move over so I can sit?"

His cousin looked a bit surprised that he was asked such a question but started to move anyway. "Of course," he said, leaving him enough room to sit down comfortable.

He did so. The albino direwolf watched him intently as he sat but did nothing else. "I'll tell you a truth, Quent: you're welcome to her." Everyone there looked at him like he had lost his mind, but he didn't care about what they thought. It was the truth.

"Y-Your Highness, wh-why would you say something like that?" the Tarly boy asked him. "She's…she's very pretty."

He looked at Randyll Tarly's eldest son. He looked nothing like the warrior his father was, more fat than muscle. "She is that, but I don't want her," he acknowledged.

"But why?" the boy asked.

He could've listed the reasons why, about how every time they were together it felt like he was on the verge of being drowned in roses and there was nothing he could to stop it, how she seemed smug every time they were together in public but always managed seemed to hide it beneath a mask of gentle kindness, but it would be damaging to do that. It would be damaging to the royal family and to House Tyrell. He might get that suffocating feeling from Margaery, but he respected her eldest brother. He chose to go with a simple but different answer. "I love another, someone I want but everyone is determined to stop us from coming together."

"Who is it?" the square from the Vale, who's been called Edd, asked.

He looked over at where his sister was sitting close to Robb, Mya nearby as always. If he had to guess his sister's plan, she would try to make Jon Snow by being with his trueborn brother. Not that he cared about it. He only had eyes for Mya. She noticed him and he felt his heart grow light, his lips turning back into a small smile. Bu then she looked away and his heart grew heavy again. "It doesn't matter," he finally said. Wanting to change the subject, he looked over at Jon Dualfang. "Would you tell me of the North, Jon?"

The bastard turned his attention to him again. The anger was gone from his eyes and it was replaced by surprise and curiosity. "What would you like to know, your Highness?"

"Your sister said something about a mine of gems in passing. The Wolf's Lake, I believe she called."

"The Wolf's Pond, actually," he corrected instantly.

"So it does exist," the prince thought to himself. He wondered if he had missed the Small Council meeting pertaining to that little piece of news or if it had occurred before his father had started bringing him to the meetings. "Have you been there yourself?"

He nodded and said, "Aye, I have. It's easily one of the most beautiful places that I've seen in my life."

"You've never been outside of the North before now. How could it be such a thing when you've never seen Highgarden, Storm's End, or the Water Gardens?" The prince there wasn't much up in the North, except for snow, trees, and more snow.

Jon Snow grew somber again. "I had given some thought to coming to Dorne before. But now, I do not think I would go if given the chance." He didn't say anything incriminating but he did look at where the Sand Snakes lounged near Arianne. Quentyn did the same and he frowned more severely.

Aegon saw both their looks and followed them. He saw Tyene whispering to Arianne, saying something that made her giggle and coyly gaze at a nearby knight, he didn't know who. But he also saw how Obara scowl at everything that wasn't her family, how Nymeria watched Mya while idly stroking her whip (his blood burned at the sight), and how Sarella seemed to content to insult and harass Theon Greyjoy. "Not all bastards are like that in Dorne," he found himself saying.

"What do you say to that, Quentyn?"

Quentyn turned his head from his family back to his group. He said quietly, "He is right but the Sand Snakes would not leave you alone if you were to travel through Dorne."

They all took in his words, eyeing the Sand Snakes with suspicion. Arianne noticed the looks and when she saw Jon Dualfang look at her, she smiled as well as look away coyly. While there was red in his cheeks, there was also a confused look on his face. It was like the bastard was trying to understand why she had just done that. Aegon saw it and chose to take measures. "Why don't you go over to talk to her?" he suggested.

The bastard shook his head in reply. "No, she has better things to do then waste time speaking to a person that hails from a land she dislikes."

Aegon knew that to be true. He also knew that it stemmed from their Uncle Oberyn. His mother, surprisingly, had no trouble regarding the rebels. Neither did his father but he wasn't a Martell. But he also knew that Jon Dualfang was the intended man for this tournament's game. "I think that she'll make an exception for tonight." But the bastard shook his head again. "Stubborn," the prince thought. He decided to change the talk to more pleasant. "So, what part of the tournament do you plan to join, Jon Dualfang? The joust, perhaps?" he suggested.

Jon Snow shook his head a third time but chuckled this time around. "No, Robb is better at the lance then I am. He will take to the lists just as likely Greyjoy will take to the archery range."

"Interesting, but I asked about you."

He fell silent for a moment. "What do you plan to join, Jon?" Edd asked him. "Please tell us so I know which to avoid. That way, I can make sure I keep on living for a little while longer."

The small group of friends chuckled at that, except for him. "If you truly wish to know, I would like to join the melee."

It would be a good choice for him. Aegon knew that personally. "You'll be sure to win," he said with a certainty.

"I might, if I were to join."

He blinked his eyes, confused about what he had just heard. "Why wouldn't you?" No one would look down on him much if he joined the melee to prove himself. This looked to be a tournament that rivaled Harrenhal in grandeur. He could not fathom why someone would hold themselves back from joining except out of cowardliness.

The bastard looked him in the eye and said, "This is Lady Catelyn's birthplace."

"And?" he asked, looking at him like he was a fool. Strangely enough, he got the same look back.

"Jon Snow!" roared a voice from where the Northmen generally gathered. All eyes turned to see who it was, a literal bear of a man with hair and a beard of dark brown. He looked to be the kind of man who would be an absolute terror on the battlefield, much like the animal that was his sigil. "This night seems rather appropriate for that song, would you not agree?"

Jon Snow became hesitant, his eyes looking at all the women there before looking at him. "Jack," he started to say.

"There will be no excuses," the man said, stopping him before he could begin. Other Northmen were beginning to stand, picking up instruments that they had brought to the godswood. "These ladies all seem quite keen on you, even if they don't try to show it openly. Come and give them something to remember."

The other Northmen seemed to agree with the sentiment, since they were already holding what they would be playing. Jon Snow looked at them all and then, not surprisingly to Aegon, to his trueborn. "Robb, please stop them," he all but begged.

"Sorry, Jon," Robb Stark said with a grin. "I happen to agree with them. You'd better start the song." The rest of the Northmen had already grouped together, ready to start playing. The ladies were all gathered together close by and watching him with expecting eyes.

"I thought he couldn't play an instrument," Aegon thought to himself as he watched the bastard seemingly sigh in resignation and stand up. He walked towards them and they started to play. This song was different from what he had heard before. It wasn't loud and aggressive or fast and playful like the ones they had played in the days since they had come to Riverrun. No, this song was slow, haunting, and mysterious at the same time also whispering seductively in his ear.

It could also have been how Jon Snow seemed to transform when the song began to play. His gait somehow managed to match the beat of the song and make him seem like he was actually a predator moving through the forest. But it was his voice that was astonishing. As he began to sing, it changed from the quite somberness Aegon had known he had to one that was both rich and smooth. He didn't sing the lyrics as much as they flowed out of his mouth and off his tongue.

You can say your prayers, work your rites
burn your little candles day and night
you can shimmy 'til dawn to the pounding drums
but you best be ready when the Horned One comes, yeah
If you wake to the sound of a hunting horn,
dance a ring in the gathering storm.
If the Solstice time gets your panties in a wad,
it's just the coming of the Horned God.

He will call you out, make you sweat,
give you a blessing that you'll never forget.
So revel in the chase and let your heartbeat run:
Blessed are the children of the Horned One!

Hunter who tracks outside of time,
guardian lord of ancient rhyme,
brother stag in the musky glen
and consort of the Goddess in her woodland den,
we call you forth as we make our way,
walking in your power every day.
Guide us true in our hunt this night
and maybe even later in the Great Rite!

He will call you out, make you sweat,
give you a blessing that you'll never forget.
So revel in the chase and let your heartbeat run:
Blessed are the children of the Horned One!

If you wake to the sound of a hunting horn
dance a ring in
the gathering storm
revel in the chase and let your heartbeat run
but you'd best be ready, little one!
You'd best be ready when the Horned One comes!

He will call you out, make you sweat,
give you a blessing that you'll never forget.
So revel in the chase and let your heartbeat run:
Blessed are the children of the Horned One!

As the song faded away and Jon Snow closed his mouth, all but the Northerners were staring at him mouths agape. Aegon was at a loss for words. That had been like nothing he had seen before. Even as he sang, Jon Snow did not stay in place. He walked before the ladies, keeping his attention on them and in turn, making sure that they stayed focus on him. He would turn his gaze to one of them as he sang, but the most attention he gave was to Rhaenys.

No one clapped. They were still too stunned at what they had just heard. The bastard looked at them all, a look of concern and worry coming onto his face. He looked at his brother with that look. It was then that Aegon found his voice. "You said that you could not sing," he said with a voice that more surprised than accusing. He gestured to the rest of the Northmen. "They all laughed when they talked about it."

Jon Snow looked back at him. "They said I could not play an instrument, your Highness, not that I couldn't sing."

Now that he remembered the first court, it was true. He had long associated playing with singing that the two were inseparable in his mind. But the bastard before him had just proven him wrong. "A warrior and a singer whilst still being humble about your talents and not wanting glory," the prince said. "I have half a mind to take you and have you become a Kingsguard, Jon Snow."

Never had he seen so many surprised and angry eyes focused on him until then, when all the ladies heard his proclamation. They looked at him like he had just taken away their favorite toy forever. He actually felt a shiver of fear crawl down his spine at their looks. It also did not help that the rest of the men there had looks of amusement at his predicament. All except one. "You've already made that promise to a trueborn Stark, your Highness," Jon Snow said quietly, yet loud enough to be heard.

The angry eyes on him were still angry but now they were also curious too. "He knew?" Aegon thought. It seemed the bastard was close to his family to know that. But he also didn't say who it was. A rare thing, most people he knew would boast about a family member becoming one of the Kingsguard. But he didn't. "Aye, you're right," he finally said, "I can only pray that Stark will be as good as you."

The mood began to settle and the angry eyes began to calm. Rhaenys stood up from where she sat against an oak and said, "This should be more festive. Come let us have some more music. Let us dance." As bold as their sigil, she walked up to Jon Dualfang and held out her hand to him. "Will you dance with me?"

He looked at the hand and then her. "It would be my honor, Princess," he said in a quiet voice, taking the hand in his own. Music began to play, much more suited to dancing now, and they all began to dance.

Aegon watched them all from where he stood, noticing that Mya suddenly wasn't amongst his court. His eyes first found Margaery dancing with Renly and then he started looking for the one who had his heart. "Where is she?" He could not see her. He thought it through and realized that if she wasn't here, that could only mean that she had gone to fetch more wine. So, as carefully as he could, he left his court without being seen.

Once he was out of sight of the men and women, he took off at an almost frantic pace to reach Mya. It didn't take him long to reach her, finding her close to a tall elm. "Mya," he said to her as he slowed down to match her pace. As he thought, the wine jug in her hands meant that she had been sent to get more wine.

"Prince Aegon," she said, as formally as ever. It had been something that had irritated him to no end when he had been younger, how she never seemed to buckle underneath his taunting and teasing. Now, he wanted her to stop doing it for an entirely different reason.

"Where are you going, Mya?" he asked, even though they both knew where she was going. "I shall accompany you."

She didn't meet his eyes when she replied, "I do not think that is a good idea, your Highness. Your betrothed will wonder where you are."

His anger sparked and a growl escaped his lips. He stopped her from walking away by grabbing her arm and pressing her against the elm. A surprised gasp escaped her parted lips and her back leaned against the tree. "Fuck Margaery Tyrell," he declared. "I don't want her. I want you. I have to have you, Mya. You know this. Why won't you let me take your hand in marriage?"

Even though the move to put her against the tree had been surprising, her gaze and voice remained calm. "I'm a bastard and the bastard of a traitor too. I am damaged goods."

The way she talked about herself, where she came from, like she was talking about a cut from fabric, angered him. He hated that she put herself down willingly like that. He wanted her to be confident, to be proud of what she was. "I don't care about that."

Her blue eyes, as calm as the peaceful sea, did not break contact with his own. Her hair was cut short and it appealed to him. There was always that small strand that was begging to be pushed behind her ear, something that he wished he could do. "You should. You are the crown prince."

"Aye, I am the crown prince."

"So you would order me to your bed?" she asked, a small hint of fire coming up her voice. "To be your mistress and sire your bastards until you tire of me?"

"No!" he almost shouted, leaning in close, so close that their noses almost touched. "I would have you as my bride. If I married you, we could begin to heal the damage done by our fathers. Westeros gains nothing from me marrying the Tyrell woman." He firmly believed in that and wished that others would too. She had to see it too. He knew that she was not stupid.

She did not reply, choosing to keep her gaze on him. There was something about her gaze that stroke the love he had for her. He leaned in for a kiss but somehow she slipped from his grasp, something she always could do. He fell to the ground and ended up kissing the roots of the elm. "Prince Aegon, you are betrothed," he heard her tell him. "Your family would be displeased."

He got back up to his knees, spitting out the leaf that somehow managed to get in his mouth. "I can handle my family. My parents would see reason, I'm sure."

She was quiet for a moment and then said, "They are not your only family. I believe it would be safe to say that the one thing your cousins disliked more than Lady Tyrell is me." She left him there, kneeling against the tree. When he stood up, she was gone. He didn't follow, instead choosing to go back to his court. He knew that she would be back.

End

Author's note: Thank you for all the reviews you've sent me.

I will freely admit that having a gem mine in the North is not an original idea of mine. That would come from the author Atri and his story "The Lion of the North." It made sense to me and it also helped in what I was trying to do. I know that this is a world in the Middle Ages but I also believe that it is a real world, so to speak, and thus capable of progression. Having a gem mine and possibly more than one of those is a way for me to grow the North. Of course, there are more ways than one to do that.

As for the song, again that is not one of mine. It's called Hymn to Herne. While the original is done S.J. Tucker, I personally prefer the version done by Alexander James Adam. It's got a better of supernatural mystery.

I'll see you all next chapter!