Chapter 9—New Acquaintances.
"Once you've accepted your flaws, no one can use them against you."
--GRRM.
12th Month. 296AC.
The Red Keep.
Lyarra yanked slightly at the sleeves of her new gown.
They were silk made. Red and gold in color with some black, pooling to her feet, rather tight at the bust and waist and making it quite difficult for her to breathe and yet when the queen had seen her, she'd praised her outfit.
It had been quite the week that passed in Lyarra's opinion.
After a few days, she had gotten used to parts of the Red Keep which she now usually frequented, and suffice to day she didn't need the help of a certain spider anymore.
During her first meet with the queen and her other ladies, she'd gotten to know the seven women too.
3 were from Dorne. 3 from the Crownlands and the youngest from the Stormlands. Nice women albeit their flowery words and biting taunts. The silvery blonde haired girl later learnt that they mostly meant nothing by it and just enjoyed the exchange of words where it would hold no meaningless grudges. Even the queen had seemed amused as she listened to her ladies tell her all manner of stories and rumors as she enjoyed her tea. It was all so fascinating to Lyarra, seeing these strange women in action. She couldn't say she was fully comfortable around them, having met them twice in seating, but they were definitely a force to be reckoned with when all together and gathered around the queen.
A court indeed.
She'd also gotten a letter from her Lord Uncle, Alastair Dayne.
He was a man Lyarra had conversed with over letters quite a number of times over the years. While not a lot, his letters showed that he did care, what with his constant questions about her health and if she was doing well. An older Arthur in a sense.
Uncle Arthur had also been right about living expenses. With the letter, came the assurance of her Lord Uncle who assured her that her needs would be taken care of through him, seeing as she was legitimately of House Dayne now.
The small bag of dragons that had arrived for her had almost given her a heart attack, as well as the promise of it being monthly. 50 gold dragons. Lyarra had worried about having such an amount just lying around, but then after her meeting with the queen, she realized she had quite some things to buy.
Materials and dresses, for instance. Most of her outfits were too much for the South and so Sarah had helped her deal with outfits at a seamstress.
Apparently, the queen Influences fashion in the court. Elia was Dornish and so she mostly used Dornish silks and materials for her outfits. That in turn makes other ladies dress similarly to her or use materials she uses. Colors she prefers. Like red, gold, orange, touches of blacks, yellow, cream, peach. Not that other colors weren't worn or used, most people still wore their house colors to important feasts, but there was no denying it that Elia did influence fashion in the court. Which in turn influenced some of the outfits her Ladies in waiting wore.
Much like the Red and gold Lyarra presently wore, which low-key made her fit in with the Targaryens in her horrified opinion, two other ladies wore predominantly red, while others wore gold or orange pieces, with Elia wearing a Targaryen red flowing gown with a black saree made for the more southron looking gown. She looked absolutely amazing in Lyarra's opinion.
Speaking of the royal family, they looked as amazing as ever to the silver haired girl.
The king standing magnanimously and the prince by his side. She hadn't seen him since their arrival to the Red Keep, but she'd heard he was quite a busy and elusive young man too.
The sound of horses neighing and heavy footsteps made her look up just in time to see quite a large retinue ride over.
The flag of the Tyrell family prominent and a rather large man dressed in expensive green outfit with dark cloak.
"If it isn't Lord fat flower."
Lady Elena Dalt, the wife of Ser Deziel Dalt of Lemonwood, Dorne whispered playfully and the Ladies in waiting around tittered quietly in amusement as Lyarra watched the proud looking man who puffed up slightly, a younger man who looked quite like him but more of a knight and firm faced, rode next to him.
"Better not say that next to Lady Olenna. That woman has a viper's tongue that much is true."
Lady Carina Chelsted, wife of Lord Carl Chelsted of the Crownlands chided slightly. She was around the Queen's age and slightly more stern than the other women though she knew when to let loose.
But the fact that the Tyrells were a strong family, not the type to be mocked in the open was something she had to warn her fellow ladies about.
"Your grace!"
Lord fat flower, or rather yet Lord Tyrell, was helped down by a guard as he stepped on a stand set for him before finally on the ground.
He had curly brown hair and a well cut beard in a triangular shape that had grey specks in it. He had a red face and looked very jovial as he beamed, walking over to the king and bowing… well, bowing as much as his rotund belly would allow.
Lyarra heard a small unnoticeable snort from one of the other Ladies in waiting but no one turned or said anything.
The king smiled softly at the man.
"Rise, Lord Tyrell. It is good to see you healthy."
The king's silvery voice resonated around as the two wheelhouses behind finally stopped and guards moved to open them.
Lord Tyrell practically beamed at the king before waving his son over and the firm faced handsome young man knelt.
"This is my second son, your grace. Ser Garlan Tyrell."
"Your grace."
Ser Garlan spoke in a strong voice and the king nodded at him.
"Rise Ser Garlan. You make your family proud."
The young man stood tall and proud at that. He was tall and broad, and an impressive looking sword sat at his waist. Good looking with curly brown hair and brown eyes.
The first wheelhouse opened, and an old wiry lady was helped out as two almost giant looking guards moved to stand by her side. She had an almost disinterested look on her face as she looked around and a cane held in one hand.
Out of the wheelhouse came another lady. This one much younger and much beautiful.
Lyarra heard one of the ladies give an appreciative hum, not that she could blame her. This lady was a beauty after all.
Margaery Tyrell stood tall and with a demure smile as she accepted the help of a guard and stood a little behind her grandmother.
She garnered stares as soon as she was seen.
With thick, softly curling brown hair and large brown eyes, she had a slender but womanly figure with smooth and unblemished pale skin and small breasts. She wore a pale green samite gown with a tight-laced bodice that bared her shoulders and the top of her bosom with a green cloak of autumn flowers over it.
The second wheelhouse opened and the heir to Highgarden came out. He was slightly shorter than his brother, not as broad but well built, and a well designed cane in hand for his leg.
With brown hair and brown eyes. Most would describe him as the less handsome of the three brothers, but it didn't mean that he wasn't good-looking either.
A polite smile sat on his face as he turned and like the gentleman he seemed to be, held out a hand for his Lady Mother, and then the princess came out.
A beauty, that much was seen.
Much like her mother, in fact, the only thing that seemed to differ then was her bright Valyrian purple eyes.
Much like the prince was a copy of his father, albeit with some little differences here and there, the princess was much the same for her mother.
She was dressed in a red and black gown made of Myrish silk, her black and silky hair let down to her waist and a smile on her face.
Her eyes swept across before stopping at her family smiling back at her.
"Allow me."
Heir Tyrell murmured lowly and with a thankful smile, Princess Rhaenys placed her hand in his as he led her with the rest of his family, over to the royal family.
Lord Tyrell took over.
"Your grace, I believe you know my Lady Mother, Olenna Tyrell. This is my Lady Wife, my heir and eldest son, and of course my beautiful daughter."
The family bowed and curtseyed and the king nodded politely, before his smile softened even further as he caught eyes with his only daughter.
"Rhaenys."
"Father."
The princess grinned as she ignored protocols and hugged her father, a smile on her mother's face while the prince smirked slightly.
"It is good to see you again. And well too."
The king added as he looked her in the eyes, ensuring she was alright. She smiled and nodded.
"Of course, father. All his well. Mother."
The queen stepped forward, placing a hand on her daughters cheek. The two looking so alike though different in ways as they stared at each other with warmth.
"I'm glad you're home."
"Me too, mother."
She caught eyes with her brother who threw her a smile which she returned.
The hand of the king then stepped forward.
"You all must be tired. Please, the servants will show you to your quarters."
Jon Connington said as he gestured to some maid servants and the King nodded.
"Of course. We have enough time to catch up. Please, rest up for now, we have much to discuss soon."
Lord Tyrell puffed up in that moment and Olenna rolled her eyes at him.
"Of course, your grace. Much to discuss, indeed!"
As the Tyrells were directed away, the Queen crossed elbows with her oldest, a smile across her face.
"Come daughter. It would seem we have much to talk about."
Rhaenys smiled.
"Much to discuss indeed. I see a new addition to your Ladies."
Elia smiled impishly as she walked off with her daughter.
"It would seem so indeed."
"And it seems you have forgotten your dearest brother, sister."
Aegon walked next to them, exchanging a smile with his sister who scoffed.
"I did not forget you. I just enjoyed being away from your insipid trouble."
Aegon laughed out loud, grinning.
"Oh, how I missed you sister. Now, I would like to hear about this Heir Tyrell fellow."
Rhaenys rolled her eyes though her grin widened. Elia noticed as well and thought, perhaps there was more to this after all.
Olenna Tyrell though, watched as a certain Valyrian looking girl walked away with the queen's Ladies in waiting, a look in her eyes as she watched her go.
And Varys, the man that he was, smiled softly as he noticed what had held the queen of thorns' attention.
Interesting.
As for Lyarra, she sighed as the Ladies in waiting's keep got closer and Falyse Stokeworth, heir to Stokeworth and another of the queen's lady tutted slightly.
"Chin up, Lyarra. Everything will be over soon. The Tyrells are here to gain the royal family's attention and believe me, they will have it."
Carina snorted at the 32 year old woman.
"I think we all know which of the children of the king they want."
"It's not like they can have the one they want. That's overreaching above their station."
"They always overreach. That's the Tyrells for you."
Lyarra listened as the women all settled in the large solar/sitting area of the keep. It was warm as a servant tended to the fire while some others brought finger foods and a pot of tea as well as two jugs of arbor gold and Dornish red.
"The girl was beautiful though."
Lady Calypso Celtigar, wife of the youngest Celtigar son spoke up as she accepted a goblet of arbor gold from a servant, sipping it.
She was the youngest. After Lyarra herself, that is. Calypso was presently 22 name days of and her marriage was just a year old. She was a beauty though, with bright blonde hair and sharp blue eyes, but had welcomed Lyarra very warmly, joking about not being the youngest anymore.
"Indeed she was. But did you see her eyes? Much like her grandmother, the vile Lady Olenna."
Falyse Stokeworth the turned to Lyarra who was sipping curiously on the Dornish red.
"Word of advise, Lyarra. Never get on the bad side of that woman. She can be a foul beast when she wants to be."
Lyarra frowned slightly.
"But she looked so…"
"Old?"
"Weak?"
"Toothless?"
The ladies laughed or tittered in amusement and Lyarra smiled at them.
Carina shook her head.
"We might be having a bit of fun, but we dare not speak of her like this in public. That woman might be old, but she is known as the queen of thorns to the rest of Westeros. Do not look at her and see an old grandmother. Look at her and see an adversary."
"Oh! I have no idea why you're telling her! It's not like she's about to find the woman's trouble. Or are you mad enough to do so?"
Lady Sylvia Fowler tutted at the other ladies. She was the oldest at 41, and usually the one who made sure the other ladies were at their absolute best behavior whenever the queen was not around.
"Then again, you northerners are a rare breed I have been told. Not lovers of southron traditions."
"You Dornish are just as bad. Where Northerners are blunt and straightforward, you Snakes are as slippery as they come."
Sarah Lonmouth spoke up with a smirk as she relaxed into her chair, crossing her legs daintily as the other ladies laughed while the Dornish women puffed up in pride.
Elena Dalt frowned as she sipped her tea.
"Lyarra is one of us, in case your old mind has forgotten, Sylvia. She is a Dayne."
Sylvia sneered at the woman with no heat beneath it.
"She is a Stark before being a Dayne."
"But It is the Dayne name she carries. Therefore, Dornish."
Sylvia huffed, turning away from Elena's grin.
"It matters not. I am just happy the Tyrells are here. Drama is bound to pick up, ladies. Try to keep your ears to the ground. Let's find out what secrets may be laid at our feet in the coming days."
The ladies nodded absentmindedly and Lyarra quietly dropped her goblet while picking up a lemon cake from a tray and munching on it.
So was the life of a lady in waiting, it would seem.
That night as Lyarra laid in bed, Ghost burrowed into her side as she brushed her fingers through his soft fur, she marveled at how slowly he was growing.
He was almost over 3 months now and he could keep up with her without needing to be picked up, and he was eating quite a lot too.
Speaking of feasts, the end of the year tourney was coming up in three days time. She had seen preparations taking place all around and the tourney would be taking place in the newly created tourney ground on a street on Rhaenys' Hill.
Not exactly a ground, it was a dome like structure with an open ceiling built for the purpose of tourneys as well as other events, like charities the Queen dealt with, performances and so on.
It would be another year soon enough. Lyarra had no idea how to feel about that yet. She was still in a new place, trying to get used to the changes as well as being away from her siblings.
Robb, her forever twin, no matter their differences. Arya, her wild child of a sister. Bran, her adventurous future great knight of a brother, Sansa, the dedicated flower of house Stark. Rickon the wilder wolf child.
A smile grew across her face at the thought of what they were up to these days, but at the same time, a panging feeling grew in her chest as a longing filled her.
She missed them. She missed Winterfell, no matter how much she looked forward to King's Landing, it didn't change the fact that all she'd ever known was The North.
It was her home. Her bearing the last name of Dayne didn't change that.
The sun may go down, the stars may come out, the day may go and another may arrive, she would still be of Stark blood. Winter was in her veins just as much as the desert heat.
She breathed out softly as moonlight reflected in her room through the window.
It would be another day soon. Best to prepare for it.
"How do I look?"
Lyarra twirled in her room.
She had on a gown of icy blue and silvery grey make. Made of a lacy material, fitted bodice and flaring to her feet. Unlike most, she had on laced up heeled boots beneath the gown.
Compromise, she called it. Unlike the women of the South who seemingly enjoyed suffering with their footwear, Lyarra wasn't interested in any of that madness.
"You look beautiful, my lady."
Sarah smiled softly and Lyarra returned the smile with a grin.
Over the week and days she'd been at the Red Keep, Sarah had been a constant companion that she'd come to rely on.
Without her, she'd probably still be stumbling around the Red Keep and making a fool of herself.
"Great. Perhaps I won't be making a fool of myself in front of the princess today."
She mumbled to herself as she pushed a curly silvery blonde ringlet out of her face, a small wince appearing on her face.
"I think the princess would love you. Her grace does, so why not her daughter?"
Sarah spoke up as she returned a brush into Lyarra's drawer, going around Ghost, while throwing a wary eye at the direwolf.
"Well, the princess is her own person for one. Her mother's feelings would certainly be different from hers. I hope it aligns this time though."
This early afternoon, Lyarra had been invited to tea with the Queen and her daughter.
Lyarra wasn't sure what to think of that at first, but she knew the Queen had talked about introducing them both a while back.
And now that the princess was back, it would seem the Queen's plans were coming to fruition.
Lyarra was nervous though. This was the Queen's daughter for seven's sake! What if she didn't like her?
What if she thought Lyarra some upstart looking to rise high above her station or something??
She shook her head quickly.
No need to think on that.
Lyarra was more cold-blooded than that. Why was she suddenly looking for the approval of Southerners?
Oh… Old Gods and New, save her soul.
"Well, I should be leaving soon. Wouldn't want to be late and give a bad first impression."
Sarah curtseyed slightly before walking out, Lyarra behind her.
"I will see you later, Ghost. Perhaps you and I can run around the streets of King's Landing after, what do you say?"
Ghost wagged his tail slightly and she smiled as she walked off.
"You may enter."
One of the guards stationed at the door opened the door for her and she nodded in thanks, taking a deep breath and walking in.
The room was large, airy and bright. Painted a cream color with flowery designs on it. With cream colored curtains and a balcony to the side.
The Queen sat on a comfy double seat, weary a dark brown rayon material saree, a smile on her face as soon as she spotted the younger girl.
"Lyarra! I'm glad you could make it dear."
Lyarra curtseyed.
"Your grace."
Elia smiled softly, waving at another seat.
"How have you been, Lyarra? We haven't had time to ourselves ever since we got to the capital."
Lyarra smiled softly as she took her seat, placing her hands on her laps.
"It's been… different from the North."
Elia laughed, covering her mouth daintily with her henna covered hand.
"Yes. No chilling cold and no white everywhere. A huge change for you. Have you been well?"
A look of concern appeared on her face and Lyarra nodded quickly so as to reassure her.
"Yes, your grace. I mean, it's been different without my siblings. And the Red Keep is so… large. Larger than Winterfell! And so much to see! And Sarah has been wonderful to me. I think I worry her sometimes, but it's really nothing. And I've been looking to explore the streets and—"
Her excitable face froze as she realized she'd been blabbing to the Queen and she swallowed her words, staring sheepishly at the grinning Queen.
"Apologies, your grace."
Elia chuckled.
"Oh I am not angry. In fact, I am happy you seem to be happy. I hope you get to know my daughter enough too. My Rhaenys may look intimidating at first, but she is a delight once you get to know her. Her father's daughter through and through."
Lyarra tilted her head slightly in thought.
"She looks so much like you."
"But she has her father's attitude, believe me. She might look like me with her father's eyes, but she is much like him. Just like Aegon is much like I am."
Lyarra nodded in disgruntled agreement at that.
"Yes, I could see that."
Aegon might look all Valyrian, but he was quite proud of his Dornish heritage. Including befriending bastards too. She wondered just how much Dornish he had in his blood.
The silver haired girl didn't notice the interested look on the Queen's face even as the door opened again.
Lyarra sat up immediately, standing up as the princess walked in with a small smile once her eyes met with her mother's.
The princess's eyes then moved towards the stranger in the room, a look of curiosity blossoming across her face as she took in the features she hadn't been able to the previous day.
The Queen though, watched the other girl who had walked in behind her daughter.
She was indeed a beauty.
The soft smile playing across her lips.
The granddaughter of Olenna Tyrell.
"Mother."
"Daughter."
Rhaenys practically floated across the room to hug her mother and Lyarra took in the princess further.
She held herself in a way Lyarra was quite envious of. She stood tall, back straight and moved with such grace that it reminded Lyarra of the King himself.
"Mother, I hope you do not mind. I brought someone with me."
Rhaenys turned towards the demure looking Margaery who walked forward.
"Mother, may I introduce the Lady Margaery Tyrell."
"Your grace."
Margaery immediately curtseyed low in the presence of the Queen.
"I have heard so much about you from the princess. She calls you the backbone of the kingdom, and I have ever so wished to meet the strong woman she always talked about during her stay at Highgarden."
A sweet mouth too, Elia noted.
Much like her grandmother indeed. But where Olenna was all nails and thorns, this one was all floweriness.
Elia grinned.
"I'm glad my Rhaenys had someone to keep her company. Let me take a look at you, dear."
Margaery stared softly at the Queen as she studied her features.
"You are a beauty indeed."
Rhaenys snorted, and her mother turned to her almost exasperated.
"She is called the Rose of the Reach, mother."
Elia tutted slightly, smiling at her daughter, before turning back to Margaery.
"A name that befits you."
Margaery's smile widened.
"Well then, I should like to introduce you to Lyarra."
Lyarra finally stepped forward, an almost nervous look on her long face.
"Lyarra Dayne. Daughter of Ashara Dayne and Lord Stark. You might remember Ashara, daughter. She used to carry you and sing to you as a child."
Lyarra perked up at that. A longing feeling overtaking her from deep within. Her mother had done what she'd wished her to do to her, with another babe.
How lucky the princess was.
Rhaenys must have seen the look in the younger girl's eyes as she smiled at her politely.
"Indeed. I remember the Lady Ashara. It is a pleasure to meet her daughter."
Lyarra curtseyed swiftly.
"A pleasure to meet you, princess. The Queen has said a lot about you."
Rhaenys looked at her mother with a look of amusement.
"All nice things I hope."
Elia huffed playfully.
"All the things I said were the truth. Now seat, all of you."
She waved to the maid servant standing by the side and she immediately began pouring tea in cups.
"So Margaery, I hope your stay in the Red Keep is going smoothly?"
Margaery smiled softly as took her cup of tea from the servant girl.
"It has been positively splendid, your grace. Why this morning, I was ever so curious to meet you after everything the princess has said."
Rhaenys then cut in with a smile.
"Margaery is much like you, mother. A lover of charity and good deeds."
Elia perked up at that.
"Oh?"
Margaery wasted no time in speaking up.
"I just think what you're doing is a wonderful thing, your grace. There are a lot of people out there who deserve love and happiness, children most especially. Yet they do not have such. I very much like to help them out in anyway that I can. I feel happier whenever I do such things, you see?"
Elia nodded approvingly at the girl, seeing the passion in her eyes.
"I am glad to hear it."
"I am happy you approve."
The younger girl glanced at a quiet Lyarra who had taken to sipping the spicy tea and staring at the women in the room.
"And how about you, Lyarra right? May I call you Lyarra?"
Margaery smiled at the silver haired girl who grinned.
"Of course, Lady Margaery."
"Please, call me Margaery."
Lyarra nodded, before answering the question raised.
"I don't know much about charity, but I think it is a good thing. I used to see a lot of children and elderlies in The North, whenever it was the colder season. Those who didn't have enough to eat and were bone thing. And I thought about myself. I who enjoyed the comforts of a warm keep. I tried my best to help however I could. I might not have much, but I have more than them, and giving them what I had in that moment wouldn't kill me."
Elia smiled softly at her while Rhaenys nodded in agreement.
"The North. Why, I have heard a lot about it."
Margaery grinned at her.
"A cold and desolate place, it is described. They say nothing blooms from there. Pity."
She smiled demurely and for a second, a feeling of irritation rippled through Lyarra.
As a proud Northerner, she couldn't take someone talking lowly about where she came from.
"The North is by far the largest of the Seven Kingdoms. In fact, it can fit the other six inside it. Not that the others care... cold and damp, that's how most southerners see the North. But without the cold, a man can't appreciate the fire in his hearth. Without the rain, a man can't appreciate the roof over his head. You have the sun, flowers, and affectations. We Northerners have home."
She finished, her shoulders straight and her head held high and Elia grinned in amusement while Rhaenys said nothing, taking a sip of her tea.
Margaery laughed in a friendly manner.
"It is good to see people proud of where they come from. Much like myself, I take pride in the Reach too. I think we will be great friends, Lyarra."
Lyarra didn't know what to say. Perhaps she'd been too patriotic in that moment, and so she sent a nod to the other girl who took a sip of her tea and frowned for a millisecond at the spice, even as she swallowed.
"I was told you are an aspiring Swordswoman, Lyarra."
Rhaenys finally spoke up and Lyarra grinned with a nod.
"Yes, princess. I wouldn't say I'm great, but I do try."
Elia huffed playfully.
"Do not listen to her, Rhaenys. She is quite adept at what she does."
Rhaenys smiled.
"Aegon did say that."
Margaery turned to the princess curiously.
"The prince?"
"Indeed. He told me he sparred with you a few times in Winterfell as well as during the journey to King's Landing?"
Lyarra nodded respectfully.
"Under the watchful eye of Ser Arthur."
"I am good with the spear myself. But my Sand cousins are definitely the better fighters. Perhaps you might get to meet them someday. They would very much like to meet you."
Elia chuckled.
"Indeed. My brother Oberyn is very much curious about the daughter of Ashara Dayne."
Lyarra perked up at that while a look of distaste passed across Margaery's face at the mention of the man but it was gone before anyone saw it.
"The Red Viper?"
"Indeed. Do not worry. He is not as scary as the name suggests."
The quartet spent the rest of their afternoon talking and exchanging pleasantries. Nothing too personal and nothing too deep.
Lyarra found the princess to be nice and polite. Not as warm as her mother but with her mother's ability to reel a person in.
She seemingly preferred being in control of things and much like her father, had the heart of the people, much like her brother.
Even as Lyarra left after it was all over, she couldn't help but think that the princess was slightly distant with her, no matter how friendly she had seemed.
"So, what did you think of her?"
Elia asked her daughter as soon as Lyarra and Margaery went their separate ways.
"She is very beautiful."
Elia smirks.
"That is not what I asked you. I already know that."
Rhaenys grins.
"Why exactly do you want my approval, mother? Is there something I'm missing?"
Elia huffed.
"I just want to know if my daughter and the daughter of my soul sister can get along. It would make me happy."
Rhaenys shook her head in fondness for her mother.
"I like her enough. She seems like a bold one. I do not know her enough to say more than that."
Elia chuckled.
"You have always been the more wary one between your brother and yourself, no matter how much you always deny it. And the Tyrell girl?"
"What about her?"
Rhaenys shrugged impishly, a sly smile on her face.
"I know you, daughter. And you know me as well. Why did you bring her to me?"
Elia was very curious about that.
Rhaenys was quiet for a moment as she stared into her cup.
"You already know I would love nothing more in this world than for father to accept the betrothal agreement between Heir Tyrell and myself. To co-rule over the Reach would be advantageous to us and the little power struggles that occasionally crop up every once in a while over there should be stamped down with a Targaryen marrying into the Tyrells."
Elia frowned.
"Is that the only reason you wish to marry him?"
Rhaenys gave her mother a look.
"Come now mother. You and father's marriage was not that of love. You have told me that—"
"A hundred thousand times, yes. But it is not what I want for you."
"It is what I want for myself. You know I am ambitious mother. And besides… it is not the only reason."
She grinned and Elia raised an eyebrow.
"Oh?"
"Indeed. He is quite the sweet man. He might not have the blood of the Dornish, but he is just as tender and loving as one."
Elia opened her mouth to say something, before shaking her head.
"You better not say that near your father."
Rhaenys huffed.
"Father better accept the fact that I am 19 name days old. 20 in a few moons."
Elia smiled softly.
"You will always be his little dragon. Now, it still doesn't explain you bringing the queen of thorns' granddaughter to me so unexpectedly."
Rhaenys huffed.
She liked Margaery, that much was true.
In fact, Rhaenys believes she'd be a good match for her brother Aegon. But she also knew her brother preferred different.
Margaery was as beautiful as she was smart, yes. But Aegon preferred much more than that. He liked fire, strength. He liked diamonds in the rough. Complicated things.
He liked adventure and mystifying. He wouldn't settle for anything less.
Someone to see eye to eye with him and not just for a crown in return. And Margaery Tyrell was the kind of person to be in it for a crown.
She loved her brother, and Rhaenys knew that someone trained under the likes of Olenna Tyrell would try to influence her brother, and Aegon hated being controlled or told what to do above all else.
It also didn't help that her father wanted someone with Valyrian blood for Aegon, and except Aegon suddenly professed his love for Margaery, then the girl had a lot to do to get what she wanted.
If she could get it, that is.
"I think you and I both know the Tyrell ambition, mother."
Elia raised an eyebrow as she grabbed her cup.
"Oh? And what is that?"
"To see one of theirs with a crown atop their head."
Elia hummed.
"Well, we'll see about that. Don't you think so, daughter?"
Elia sipped her tea.
"How was it?"
Olenna spoke up as soon as her granddaughter walked into her room that late afternoon, a smile on her face as she sat down.
"It was… enlightening."
Olenna grunted slightly as she drank her wine.
"Don't keep me waiting. Out with it."
Margaery smirked slightly before she spoke up again.
"The Queen is just as formidable as you said she would be. Nice too. She loves the charity work she does."
"And the bastard?"
"Grandmama! She is not a bastard anymore!"
Olenna huffed, waving her granddaughter's chiding away.
"A bastard legitimized is a bastard still. Just because the Queen got soft at the sight of the child of her dead friend means nothing. Now, tell me of her interaction with the Queen."
"The Queen was very nice to her. Smiled quite a lot in her direction. She seemed interested in what she had to say. And she has been in the company of the prince a number of times, albeit for sparring."
Olenna raised an eyebrow at that.
"Oh? Well, we can't have that."
Margaery frowned slightly.
"What do we do, grandmother? No matter what you see, she is still of the blood of Valyria and it shows. And she is the daughter of the Queen's dearest friend. The Queen's interest in her is quite worrying."
Olenna hummed slightly, looking out into the streets beyond them where they sat at the balcony before speaking up.
"Keep doing as you are. The queen loves charity, do more of that. Get to know the prince however possible. Get even more closer to the princess. I'll deal with the girl."
"How?"
"In time. She doesn't seem to be a problem at the moment. And it's not like I can get rid of her."
Margaery raised an eyebrow at that but Olenna ignored.
"Besides, if she becomes an issue, I can always throw Garlan her way. A little chivalry and she'll be blushing like a maiden. He might be a second son but she was legitimized. Any Tyrell would be gold to her."
Flea Bottom.
Lyarra looked around in awe.
Everything seemed so… different!
After meeting with the Queen and her daughter, Lyarra had decided that perhaps a little time out of the Keep would do her some good.
Next to her, Ghost acted the silent companion who gained quite the attention due to his weird coloring.
Flea Bottom or it's unofficial name, Elia's Haven, was beautiful, in Lyarra's opinion.
A bustling little town, one could call it. With numerous streets catering to a number of things.
A foreign place to be exact. With an exoticness to it. Perhaps this was the place the Master of Whisperers had told her about.
She saw people of different nationalities as she walked past.
While not many, she could see they dealt with trade, buying and selling of goods. From the Westerosi all around her, to the strange Essosi bunch that had walked past her, or the woman from Yi Ti dressed like a red priestess.
And then the shops and kiosks, spread across flea bottom itself. She knew she wouldn't be able to look around in just a day.
But she was so intrigued by the combination of different cultures that seemed to make up Flea Bottom as well as it's slight flamboyance.
The sound of her stomach snapped her out of her reverie as she placed a hand on her tummy, patting it lightly.
"What do you think, Ghost? Fancy some meat?"
She looked down at the wolf who peered back up at her with bright eyes and she smiled.
Such a good boy.
Times like this, she was glad she'd decided to change out of her other outfit and don on something simpler and less stuffy and formal.
Looking around, her eyes suddenly narrowed in on an alehouse called 'Tir Na Nog'.
A look of surprise went through her. Tir Na Nog? That was a Northern thing.
The Otherworld. Said to be the home of the Old gods.
Did this mean the owner was a Northman?
Only one way to find out, of course.
"Come along, Ghost."
The two companions walked towards the small looking structure.
Rather inconspicuous looking, and yet when she walked in, she was met with a Northern looking environment.
With furs and rugs and rustic tables and chairs. The bar was packed with bottles of all kinds of drinks and some sat eating and drinking either alone or with someone.
Looking around, she saw no pets or animals and she idly wondered if it was okay for her to bring Ghost in.
Behind the bar was a large man that just HAD to be a Northerner.
He had auburn red hair and a large beard with a moustache almost covering his mouth and when he laughed out, it echoed across the room.
She cleared her throat once she saw him.
"Welcome to Tir Na Nog! What can I get ya?"
"Um, pardon me but may I be allowed to keep him by my side?"
His eyebrows raised as soon as he heard her Northern accent and as his eyes slid over to Ghost, his eyes bulged out.
"Well bless me soul, a direwolf before me eyes!"
He buttered out in interest and Lyarra felt embarrassed when some of the customers nearer to them turned in intrigue.
Perhaps it was a bad idea to bring him with her. She kept forgetting she wasn't in Wintertown any longer.
"What's a Northerner doing so far from home? And with a direwolf?"
He peered down and her, his accent becoming more pronounced which in turn made hers more pronounced.
"I should ask the same thing. Believe me I was surprised to hear Northerners lived in King's Landing too."
She chuckled out in happy surprise and the man laughed out loud.
"What has got you so noisy this time, Ondrew?"
A woman's voice called out from behind what would be the kitchens and the now named Ondrew turned to shout out in the slightly noisy alehouse.
"Alyn! Come see another Northerner. She's got a bloody direwolf with her!"
"Are you drinking from the stocks again?!"
Her exasperated voice resonated as she got closer and Lyarra stifled a grin that threatened to grow at the offended look on Ondrew's face at the woman's words.
"Oi!"
"You know what I have said about—Oh! Well then…"
She paused, looking from Lyarra to Ghost who tilted his head at her and her jaw dropped as he yawned quietly, his growing fangs out to see.
"Told you! Well fellow Northerner, me name's Ondrew and this is the wife, Alyn. Here's one of the boys, Rodrik."
He nodded at a younger version of himself cleaning a cup who grinned at her and she returned it.
"It's wonderful to meet you all. My name's Lyarra."
"Welcome to our little place, Lyarra. What would you like to have then?"
Alyn spoke up this time.
"Um, what do you recommend?"
"How about today's special then. Venison stew with bread and ale?"
Lyarra nodded immediately and the woman smiled softly at her.
"You can grab a seat. It was lovely to meet you dear."
"You too!"
Lyarra moved towards a table by one of the walls and Ghost sat next to her.
The alehouse was slightly crowded and one of the tables had a bunch of goldcloaks laughing and drinking.
On their break, it would seem.
"And here we are!"
Rodrik, the couple's son, placed a delicious bowl of stew on the table that made Lyarra's stomach grumbled, even as she grabbed the loaf of bread and he set down a jug of ale and a cup.
"My thanks."
"And something for the direwolf, if I may?"
He raised a small chunk of raw meat and Ghost perked up immediately as Lyarra smiled.
"Please."
Rodrik hesitated for a second, before throwing it towards Ghost who deftly caught it in his jaws and munched on it, ignoring the boy staring at him in awe.
"By the Old gods I never thought I'd see a direwolf in my life! Does he have a name?"
"Ghost."
Once he left, Lyarra practically inhaled her food. There was something so familiar about it that made her choke up for a second.
It tasted like home in a way. Probably made the Northern way too.
As she finished her food, the door opened again and a young man walked in with a friendly smile once he spotted Ondrew.
"Redbeard!"
Ondrew looked up as the man walked up to him.
"Ah! I was wondering where you'd gone off to this time, Young Griff!"
The blue haired boy grinned as he sat by the bar.
"Just out and about as usual. I don't stick to one place, as you know."
"Is it the women or adventure you were off seeking?"
Young Griff smiled impishly.
"Why couldn't it have been both?"
Ondrew roared out in laughter, gaining Lyarra's attention as she rustled through her purse for the amount to pay, walking towards the bar.
Her eyes slid over to the blue haired young man next to her.
He was tall and had very healthy and smooth skin. But there was something… familiar, about him. Even as he laughed and showed pearly white teeth.
He must have noticed her staring as he turned to the person next to him and his eyes widened in momentary panic before he turned away from her.
Lyarra frowned at his reaction, even as Ondrew took his payment from her and his grin widened.
"Told ya Northern girls are a beauty, didn't I?"
Ondrew gestured towards Lyarra whose cheeks got red slightly even as she chuckled quietly.
Young Griff nodded slightly, not looking at the silver haired girl even as she turned to him, and Lyarra wondered just why he looked so familiar to her. She'd never seen anyone with blue hair before.
Perhaps it was the obvious Valyrian look but…
She heard him sigh before he turned to her and side smiled almost sheepishly.
"Yes, Redbeard. I definitely see it."
Wait… that voice.
Lyarra recognized it immediately.
Her jaw dropped and she moved to say something and panic appeared in his eyes as he quickly shook his head.
"This right here is Young Griff. An odd name, I keep telling him. But apparently his old man is called Griff."
Lyarra stifled the amusement boiling in her insides even as she folded her arms.
"Young Griff, you say? Why, I've seen him before."
Young Griff's eyes widened while Ondrew stared at the both of them in interest.
"Oh?"
"Yes, oh. Under a different name in fact."
Young Griff's shoulders drooped and Lyarra had the urge to laugh in his face, but that wouldn't be appropriate.
He might have given her courtesy to call him by his name, but they hadn't been able to talk ever since they arrived in King's Landing.
Her smirk widened though as he eyed the exit.
"I know him as… tiny Griff."
It was quiet for a moment, the only noise coming from the people in the alehouse, that is until Ondrew roared out in laughter, holding his belly.
Next to him, Rodrik snickered into a napkin, while Young Griff's head snapped back to her. Disbelief shining in his features mixed with gratitude.
"Tiny Griff?!"
Ondrew clutched his belly before looking at Young Griff.
"It would seem that you haven't impressed this one!"
Said boy finally realized his secret was still safe and he relaxed, before an easy going smirk appeared on his face, his dark eyes glittering.
"Really? Tiny? How do you know if I'm tiny?"
Lyarra shrugged almost smugly. She had no idea why she'd said such a thing, and she kept forgetting she wasn't in the North anymore, but what was said had been said anyways. Best to move forward.
Young Griff grinned, and then much to her discomfort, leaned closer to her, their faces just a little apart and she moved her head a little behind.
"You know, if you really wanted to see it, all you had to do was just… ask."
Lyarra's face burned red from embarrassment as not only Ondrew laughed, but Rodrik too. Even an older man walking past had snickered and Ondrew leaned over the bar, patting a smug looking Young Griff over the shoulder.
"I knew ye had it in ye, ye bastard!"
A still appalled Lyarra fought down her blush and in a momentary lapse of reasoning, punched Young Griff in the stomach and he let out a 'oof' as he bent over clutching his stomach much to Ondrew's amusement.
She turned to him, a sheepish look on her face.
"It was lovely meeting my fellow Northerners here, Ondrew. I'll come visit soon."
With her hurried greeting, she gestured for Ghost and together, they swept out of the establishment with Ondrew telling her to come again soon.
"Never goad a northern woman. They are like bears, ready to chew ye up whenever the opportunity strikes! They come with fangs and--"
She heard him roar out at Young Griff before she walked out the door.
Lyarra breathed out as soon as she was outside. The light evening skies and wind blowing slightly as more people seemed to be out and about, and colorful lanterns of beautiful colors were lit on lines above shops and houses.
"Wow…"
Lyarra whispered out as she stopped, staring up at it.
"Isn't it beautiful, Ghost?"
"Lyarra!"
The silver haired girl turned as she heard her name and saw the familiar blue haired boy jogging up to her.
She immediately turned back and began walking, before pausing. Perhaps it would be bad to disrespect him.
"I didn't expect to see you around here."
He stopped in front of her, a beautiful smile across his face that looked really good under the lights.
Lyarra couldn't stop the amused huff that escaped her lips.
"Me? I didn't expect to see you here, seeing as you're the… prince."
She lowered her voice, and the Prince smiled.
"I do this most of the time. Gendry usually covers for me."
"And the… hair?"
She raised her hand, flicking at a wisp of his hair, before pausing realizing this was not just some random friend of hers. He was the prince!
She snapped her hand back down much to his increased amusement.
"It's an odd story. The hand of the king used to be one of my father's closest friends and he told me about their younger days, how my father used to sneak out of the Keep under a disguise so as to be around the people he would come to rule one day. Lord Connington is the Lord of Griffin's Roost and his nickname used to be Griff. I used that as an alibi for myself and established a sort of traveler status amongst some of the common folk. It helps me associate intimately with the people I'll come to rule one day."
Very admirable, Lyarra thought.
But she couldn't stop the smirk that grew across her face. He had embarrassed her first, now she couldn't stop herself.
"Intimately, hm? I think I saw a brothel just down the street over there."
She points and Aegon smirks back at her.
"Oh that? I've been there before."
Lyarra's eyes narrowed for a second before she sniffed slightly.
He had almost reminded her of Theon in that moment.
The silver haired beautiful man laughed as they slowly walked down the busy street.
"My uncle Oberyn. It had been his 14th and 15th name day present for me. When my mother found out, she had not been too happy but she didn't mind either."
"I've heard about him. The Red Viper. It sounds like something he'd do."
Aegon grinned before turning to her slightly.
"Do you perhaps have a destination?"
Lyarra shook her head.
"Not at all. I heard about the diversity that could be found in some of the streets of Flea Bottom and I thought it would be wonderful to come see for myself."
Aegon the puffed up.
"Well, as a relative local, it would be my honor to show a friend around."
Lyarra tilted her head slightly.
"I don't know. Your alter ego seems to have a promiscuous reputation about him. What would people think of me?"
She pondered almost playfully to her own personal surprise, and Aegon chuckles, shaking his head.
"Then let me take you to a square in Flea Bottom. Bards and entertainers often perform there at this time of the day and they end up with some change after. I occasionally play the harp for some coins which I give out later on. Usually fun. You can be my guard today."
Lyarra huffed in amused disbelief, shaking her head before shrugging.
"Very well. I have nothing to do but allow a boy whisk me off to places unknown. Lead the way then."
Aegon playfully bowed.
"It would be my honor, my lady."
He declared in an exaggerated voice and Lyarra snorted as they walked off.
Nearby, a small child pretending to beg for some change suddenly stood up and ran off.
The Red Keep.
Varys waited in his quarters as he went through information passed through his little birds. Some useless and some very informative.
A lady cheating on her lord husband with a guard and pregnant with an actual bastard child?
Not a new thing.
A Lord interested in his gender?
He'd heard that before.
Olenna Tyrell curious about the Dayne girl?
Now that he was very interested in.
Oh he knew what the woman wanted. For her darling rose flower to be the Queen. But that could never happen now, could it?
With the king wanting a wife with Valyrian blood for his son, Olenna should be happy the betrothal agreement between her grandson and the princess seemed to be going well.
In fact, there just might be a realm announcement in the coming tourney.
Perhaps he should inform that the game of thrones weren't as easy as she believed?
He grinned amusedly.
"Growing strong indeed."
The Dayne girl was one he was watching of course.
Varys had a duty to the realm. But more importantly, a duty to family. And he wasn't about to let just anyone spoil his plans.
While he didn't have many little birds in the North, he did have some settling nicely in Wintertown.
He'd heard of the seeming friendship between the prince and Lyarra Snow now Dayne.
The Stark bastard with Valyrian looks through her mother. Seeing her arrive at the Red Keep had interested him a lot.
And not to forget the queen's interest in the girl, which most would agree was because of the womb that had birthed her.
But Varys knew the Queen wasn't that one-minded.
Growing up in Myr had thought him a lot, one being not to take things at face value.
A lot of things were changing in the red keep. The game of thrones seemed to be picking up once more now that the prince and princess were of marriageable ages, and as families rose once more to rise up even higher.
The question now was, who would win, and who would make a fool of themselves.
An hidden door in his room rattled for a second, and a small and dirty child walked in, holding a parchment paper.
Varys smiled softly as he took the paper, taking a small piece of bread from his tray and handing it to the boy who bowed slightly and ate it almost ravenously.
As he read it, the Master of Whisperers hummed slightly, placing the parchment down.
Fascinating.
The prince, under his Young Griff persona had run into Lyarra Dayne.
How very coincidental.
But he couldn't have that now, could he?
Varys already had plans for the prince.
The king wanted someone with Valyrian heritage for his son, and Varys already had plans in place to take care of that.
Lyarra Dayne getting closer to the prince could put a damper on things.
They hadn't been around each other since their return to the Keep, and Varys had thought that perhaps there was nothing to that friendship anymore.
But this…
He did not like this.
Perhaps… perhaps plans needed to move faster now.
The prince would be 18 the coming year, and more families would arrive, parading their daughters or granddaughters, even sisters, as a potential wife for the king.
Just because the king had his mind set on something, didn't mean the prince wouldn't be allowed to choose his wife if push came to shove.
"Hopefully Illyrio has trained the girl up enough. It would seem the time has come."
Time for him to dip his foot fully into the game of thrones.
Let the games begin then.
So, schemes are starting to show up and down. Lyarra might very well be in danger and the year hasn't even come to an end fully. But on the brighter side, Aegon and Lyarra seem to have some sparkles somewhere… if you squint, I think you might see it.
Also, what did you all think of Olenna and Margaery's thoughts on Lyarra?
What did you all think about 'Young Griff'? I just had to put it there because, why not?
Also, Varys has finally come out to play.
P.s. Tir Na Nog is one of the names for the Celtic Otherworld. I wanted to give the Old gods more history. We don't know much about them like the faith of the Seven. Seeing as I will be touching on the Seven a little more, I think it's cool for me not to forget the Old gods too. Also, if you're interested in the gods Lyarra worships, she doesn't mind both sides. Knowing she's of the South and the North, she knows they worship different gods. Because she was a bastard, she hadn't been comfortable in the Sept because of Catelyn and the Septa. Now, she is not a bastard. As for the Old gods, they are the gods of the land she was born in and the ones she worshipped as a child. She's not going to have an issue with the Seven. Not to forget Mother Rhoyne as well.Or even the Red god... No Goat gods though, lol.
Next chapter: The tourney happens. More nobles flood into King's Landing. An imp arrives with his son. Lyarra begins her training again. More drama.