A Song Of Sand And Snow

by Anonymous Wandmaker

Robert's rebellion never happens. Rhaegar never kidnapped Lyanna. Lyarra Snow is the bastard of Ned & Ashara. Things are good. But like regression to the mean, nothing usually lasts long, and the realm begins to face dangers from both the human side and the inhuman side. Lyarra Snow has a purpose to fulfill, same as Aegon Targaryen. Hopefully time doesn't run out on them.

11. The New Year Feast

Chapter 11—The New Year Feast.

'The old year is gone. The New Year has come.'

--Lailah Gifty Akita

First Month, 297AC.

King's Landing.

The tune the women hummed and sang out was beautiful.

Their voices in high soprano, much like Opera, but more haunting and enticing as it echoed around the Great Sept.

The main hall where everyone was gathered, the large statues of the Seven in a circle, with their hands extended out, eyes carrying varying feelings of emotions pertaining to who or what they represented.

Large windows leaded glass, depicting scenes and pictures, and a great crystal catching the morning sunlight above, spreading it in a rainbow of kaleidoscopic colors that cascaded into the hall, bathing everywhere in warm colors.

At the feet of the giant statues, were altars each inlaid richly with mother-of-pearls, onyx, and lapis lazuli. Lit candles glowing on them as well as beautifully made wreathes.

Much like the weirwoods of the North, where in their presence, one couldn't deny the feeling of being watched by the old gods, no one could deny that same feeling when they step into the Great Sept of Baelor. The feeling of being watched and judged.

Lyarra thought it felt hauntingly holy, coupled with the numerous holy women gathered above and humming and singing without any words.

She was dressed in a silvery white gown, slightly bare and simple much like noble in the hall, all commemorating the New Year.

Lyarra stood with her fellow Ladies In Waiting, as the High Septon in robes of silver and a crystal coronet on his head as his hands were open wide in front of the great statue of the Father, as he said a scripture.

As he knelt, the King did the same, and his wife and children followed, and with them, the Small council, Ladies In Waiting, and the rest of the hall, even as the women continued their haunting sounds.

Everything felt so…careful and holy, much like the North respected the old gods, but the North was more… wild when it came to that.

The Holy Septon stood back up , and with him, everyone else.

The next few minutes went as smoothly as it could, with everyone going towards the seven altars and saying a few seconds prayers before moving on.

Outside, the common folk screamed and celebrated as the royal family waved to them and the King said a little speech.

The marble walls of the Great Sept bathed in the light and the seven crystal towers standing mightily.

It all seemed so different to Lyarra, and perhaps… perhaps she was beginning to welcome the changes, little by little.

---

The Feast.

Mirrored Ballroom.

"You look wonderful, Lyarra."

Allyria greeted her niece as she arrived. Dressed in a beautiful silvery blue gown made of soft Myrish silk. Fitted at the waist and flaring down to her feet. Her hair in a rather complicated braid falling in waves down her back and nothing beautifying on her face except perhaps for the nice scenting lip paint and blush Sarah had helped her with.

She felt odd with it, but seeing as a large majority of the females attending the feast seemed to have it on and more, perhaps she didn't look as odd as she thought.

The silvery blonde smiled almost awkwardly.

"Thank you aunt. You as well."

Beric cleared his throat.

"I know I look dashing, no need to say, Lady Lyarra."

Lyarra exchanged a look with Allyria before looking around.

"Where is Edric?"

"He is off somewhere with Steffon. It would seem they have become fast friends."

Allyria smiled and Lyarra nodded.

"Ah yes, of course. They became acquainted and they seem to have a lot in common."

"How about you, niece? Is there anyone you've befriended?"

Lyarra blinked, slightly startled.

Come to think of it, she didn't exactly have someone she could actively say she has befriended.

Except perhaps the prince… but that was different… he was different.

She looked back at her aunt with a small smile.

"A little here and there."

Allyria nodded though she didn't know whether to believe or not.

Just then, they trio were approached by a party of two, Lyarra's eyes widening slightly as the Prince of Dorne walked up to them, a sly smile across his face and a beautiful lady in his arms dressed in Dornish saree with slightly more skin showing than what would be termed appropriate for Southerners.

"Prince Oberyn!"

Allyria greeted with a friendly smile, curtseying slightly and Ser Beric bowing in greeting.

Lyarra, not knowing what to do, curtseyed along with her aunt and Oberyn's grin widened.

"Lady Allyria! Wonderful to see you again! And this must be your betrothed?"

Allyria nodded with a smile.

"Indeed my prince. Meet Ser Beric Dondarrion. Beric, this is Prince Oberyn Martell of Dorne."

They shook hands.

"And this is my paramour, Ellaria Sand."

Ellaria smiled and she looked even more charming.

Oberyn then turned to her, his eyes alight with curiosity.

"And this must be Lyarra Dayne."

Lyarra nodded firmly.

"By the gods, you do look like your mother. Perhaps with some differences here and there."

Lyarra smiled at that.

Perhaps she liked hearing that a lot.

"Thank you, Prince Oberyn."

Oberyn nodded before his eyes took on a predatory look.

"Why have we not seen you in Dorne?"

Lyarra blinked, slightly startled by the forward question.

"My Lord Father preferred to have me by his side."

"Ahh… Lord Eddard Stark."

Oberyn turned to Ellaria as if he was about to impart some secret to the smiling woman.

"You know, I only met him once. Very stiff that man, but one look at the Dornish, and he was practically puddle."

Lyarra didn't know whether to be offended on her Lord Father's behalf or not.

Oberyn turned back to her.

"You must meet my daughters. Nymeria, most especially. You are of Dorne after all, we have to defrost your Northern ice. You look like you need it."

He winked slyly, turning to nod at Allyria and Beric, and together the prince of Dorne and his paramour were off.

Beric snorted almost immediately.

"The Red Viper. I can see why he's known to anger nobles."

Allyria stifled a snort.

"Prince Oberyn would be in a lot of fights and quite possibly be dead if not for his brother, the reigning prince of Dorne. As well as the Queen, might I add. No one wants to anger the usually benign lady."

She then turned to a slightly confused Lyarra.

"Do not take most of the things he said to heart, niece. He is a man who says what he wants, but in a sly way. But he means no harm."

She then put on a considering face.

"Perhaps you should be introduced to his daughters. You might very well like the eldest one, Obara Sand. A warrior and part of the Sand Snakes."

The silvery blonde remembered the conversation she had with the Prince and what he'd said about his Dornish Sand cousins.

Perhaps… perhaps she could.

"I think I see your cousin Jon heading over here. Why don't you join him, hm?"

Lyarra turned to see Jon walking over, dressed rather impeccably in slightly Baratheon colors, tall and well filled out. He garnered some appreciative looks as he walked by.

She turned to her aunt and Ser Beric, giving them a slight nod and walking towards him.

"Jon."

"Lyarra, you clean up well. I won't have to chase suitors away, will I?"

He looked amused, motioning a servant over and grabbing two goblets of Myrish wine from the tray, handing one to her.

"Thank you. And you have nothing to worry about. No suitors here."

Jon looked around disbelievingly, watching some men staring appreciatively at his rather oblivious cousin. Some a lot older than he'd like.

He looked back at her, shaking his head.

"That's not what I see."

He took a sip, nodding appreciatively at the taste.

"Mother would love this. She keeps complaining about how she'd love something foreign. It wouldn't surprise me if she and father decide to travel to Essos some time next year."

Lyarra smiled.

She'd heard much about her aunt's marriage to Lord Baratheon.

It hadn't been a happy beginning from her aunt's side, apparently.

Lyanna Stark had wanted to be a free woman. A wild wolf, much like Arya. She loved to ride horses, one of the best the North had to offer in fact. She loved to fight. Loved running around in her brothers' breeches and acting boyish instead of the Lady of Winterfell she had been.

But… it seems it worked out in the end. Even if the fondness had taken a while to grow.

Lyarra was legitimized now. Did that mean she'd have to get married soon?

Her aunt, Allyria was 20 name days, turning 21 in about two moons thereabout. But she had been betrothed far longer. And she would be wedding in no time.

Would Lord Dayne or her father push her to wed anytime soon?

"Ugh! Jasper Arryn is headed this way."

Lyarra followed his line of sight to see the young man walking towards them with a nice smile across his face, dressed in a sky blue outfit.

Before he could come any closer though, everyone's attention was elsewhere as the royal family was ushered into the ballroom.

They really were a beautiful family.

Dressed in Targaryen reds, blacks and some abundance of golds mixed in. Elia was dressed in an almost traditional Dornish red and gold saree, the king in red and black, same as his son while the princess wore a more golden Reach inspired gown, something most noticed.

Behind them, the Queen mother walked in, accompanied by the Prince of Dragonstone, Viserys, in more traditional Targaryen red and black much like the King. He had been the one who thought she was a Targaryen. It was slightly amusing though she preferred no one refer to her as that.

Lyarra's eyes were still on the Royal family when Jon nudged her softly.

"Come, I see my father and mother. Father would love to see his good brother's daughter."

Lyarra nodded, locking arms with Jon as they slowly moved between the crowds.

"Oh wow… it's Lady Margaery Tyrell."

Jon whispered slightly, his eyes alight in interest, making Lyarra stifle a smile.

Said girl was surrounded by her family. Her Lord Father and Lady Mother, with her grandmother standing next to her and her two siblings.

"I heard she's called the Rose of the Reach. Kind, with an interest in charity."

Lyarra chuckled.

"You have no need to tell me these things. I have been in her company before."

As soon as she said that, Jon stopped moving, making her almost bump her shoulder against his.

"You know the lady Margaery?"

He asked, slightly surprised and the silvery blonde sighed.

"We're not friends or anything of that sort. More acquaintances—"

"Wonderful! You get to introduce us both."

Silver purple eyes widen in slight horror.

"What? No."

"Lyarra, this might be the only chance I get to be in her presence. Come on, I'm your cousin. Family matters."

Lyarra gave him an unimpressed look.

She was not moved.

Jon saw this and his shoulders drooped poorly, a sad look on his face.

"Lya… I'll owe you. I swear it."

She sniffed, the urge to slap him over the head taking over, but she shook it off, dragging him slightly.

"Come on, your parents are not too far. And I'll think about it."

He grinned down at her and she stifled a smile.

Lord Baratheon seemed to be in the middle of a conversation with his wife when they got to them, even as he laughed out at something Lyanna told him.

Said woman noticed her son walking over with his cousin and she smiled.

"Oh, there you are."

Jon smiled as he walked his cousin over to his parents, and Lord Baratheon finally turned to see who had garnered his wife's attention.

He first saw his son… and then, the girl in his arms. She looked rather familiar. With silvery blonde hair, slightly purple eyes and a grim look that looked so familiar he had a flashback to his friend Ned.

"Father, Mother…"

"Son, I see you found Lyarra."

Lyanna smiled as she greeted her niece who sent her a smile.

Robert's eyes widened in surprise as he leaned forward.

"Lyarra? Little Lyarra?! Ah! Yes, Ned finally let you off on your own, ey?!"

He laughed out.

"Always was a mother hen, that man. I remember how he used to chide me whenever I got into trouble during our days in the Vale."

His eyes grew fond for a second before he shook his head.

"It is good to see you again! You know… I almost thought you were a Targaryen for a split second."

Jon snorted while Lyanna rolled her eyes. But Lyarra's eyes widened slightly. He was the second person to make that connection.

It was honestly almost becoming comical to her. How many times would she hear that, she wondered.

"The Daynes have Valyrian and Targaryen ancestors, Robert."

Lyanna reminded him, her gray eyes sparkling with amusement and Robert shrugged unapologetically.

"Can you blame me for making such a connection? I mean… look at my cousin!"

He threw his hands towards where the Targaryens stood, even as the Tyrells walked over to them, and Jon shrugged.

"I mean… if we're being honest, only the coloring make her look Valyrian. She doesn't actually look like them after that."

Robert raised an offended eyebrow.

"Are you mocking me, boy?"

Jon grinned mockingly.

"Come now father, would I EVER do that to you?"

Robert's eyes narrowed on his son, turning to his wife who smirked and he groaned, turning to an amused Lyarra.

"This is what I get every time, girl. Only Steffon seems to be on my side."

Meanwhile, with the Targaryens and Tyrells, the Lord Paramount of the Reach beamed as soon as he got to the King.

"Your grace! This is a wonderful feast!"

Rhaegar nodded politely.

"My thanks, Lord Tyrell."

"Of course, your grace! Splendid indeed. You remember my grandmother, yes?"

Olenna walked forward, a slightly respectful look on her face.

"Your grace. I hope you pardon me for not bowing or curtseying. I'm too old for any of that."

A look of amusement went through the king's face even as Mace Tyrell gave his mother a side eye, but the Valyrian king nodded.

"No harm done, Lady Olenna."

Next to them, Margaery walked up to the prince with a smile on her face and once he noticed her, she curtseyed rather lowly.

Dressed in a beautiful forest green gown with gold embroidery, a tight bodice and a slight amount of bosom accentuating it all to make her a stunning vision.

"Prince Aegon, we haven't had the chance to talk."

Aegon smiled politely, giving her a bow, his gold circlet glittering in creamy gold mirrored ballroom.

"Lady Margaery. I apologize for that. Being the prince comes with a lot of duties. Duties I must fulfill by my father's side."

Margaery shook her head slightly.

"Oh, you have no need to apologize to me. I very much understand how busy you must be. Princess Rhaenys talks about you."

He quirked his lips slightly in a friendly enough smile.

"Oh? Nothing too catastrophic I hope? I do have a reputation to uphold."

Margaery let out a soft laugh behind her dainty fingers.

"Nothing of that sort, my prince."

Watching them, Olenna smiled in satisfaction, while Elia looked calculating.

And then the king gestured to someone who in turn waved at the performers to stop playing.

With that, the king stepped forward, his wife in his arms as the hall of hundreds turned to focus on the King and Queen of Westeros where they stood by the steps, a few feet away from the high table.

"My fellow subjects. Lords and ladies, nobles and otherwise, I welcome you all to the feast of the New Year. I can say I am happy to see you all, hale and hearty."

His voice, while not as boisterous as Lord Baratheon's, or as strong as the other Baratheon, Stannis, was so silvery and almost seductive to listen to, as it resonated around the hall, his wife in his arms, smiling.

"Today is a glorious day indeed, not only for myself but for the realm as well. It has been a peaceful and prosperous past year, and I believe it will be an even better one ahead, with an abundance of great news."

His smile then widened as he looked to his daughter who had her arm locked with the Heir to Highgarden.

"Great news indeed…"

He muttered slightly, before looking back at the crowd and speaking out louder.

"And we shall start with one which involves the Royal family. For it gives me joy, to announce the upcoming nuptials of my eldest, Rhaenys Targaryen, who will be wedding the Heir to Highgarden, Willas Tyrell, in the coming moons."

As soon as he said that, the hall burst into excited claps and chatters.

Mace Tyrell puffed up like an overgrown turkey, his wife's head high with a look of satisfaction while Olenna Tyrell smirked at some of those who looked angered at the missed opportunity to wed one of theirs into the ruling family.

The King raised a hand and the room silenced once more, but there was the undertone of celebration in the air.

Happy years to come, indeed.

"With that said, I hope you join my family in it's celebration, with the first dance of the evening, if you will."

And just like that, a lovely ballad accented with a harp, starts to play. The King turns to his wife, a fond smile on his face.

"Would you join me on the floor, my Lady Wife?"

Elia smiled up at her husband of two decades.

"I shall very much like that, Lord Husband."

With that, the two slowly move towards the dance floor, starting the night off.

Lord Tyrell taking his wife to do the same, and though Willas couldn't dance as much as he'd like, what with his leg, he was still able to move slightly, and so with that, he and his betrothed did just that.

Margaery turned towards the Prince, a rather predatory smile across her face.

"Your grace, would you be accepting of a dance?"

Aegon looked down at her in slight surprise and amusement which Margaery enjoyed.

"Is something the matter, my prince?"

Aegon shakes his head.

"Not at all, Lady Margaery. I just hadn't expected such forwardness from you."

Margaery's smile widens into something almost seductive in appearance.

"There are many things you do not know about me, my prince."

Aegon chuckles before nodding.

"Indeed. Very well then, may I have your first dance, my lady?"

The Rose of the Reach's eyes glittered with satisfaction.

"But of course, my prince."

Together, they moved towards the floor, beginning their waltz and Aegon, being the diplomatic prince that he was, speaks up once more.

"How are you liking King's Landing, my lady?"

"Oh it is wonderful, your grace. I once heard about how bad this place used to smell, as well as it's rather poor infrastructures. Your mother has done absolutely wonderful, I can guarantee her name would be in the history books to come."

With that, a fond look appeared on his face as his eyes drift towards his mother, and Margaery smiled satisfactorily.

"Indeed. No one can outdo her greatness."

"She actually inspired me."

"Oh?"

"Her charity work, I mean. It made me interested in it just as well. Being able to help and lookout for those in need, it is a wonderful feeling."

Aegon nods in agreement.

"Indeed. A very honorable thing to do."

As he said that, Margaery lets out a bell like laugh, attracting the attention of those around them as they looked at the pair in curiosity and some, with sharp narrowed eyes.

It made Margaery inwardly pleased, what with the attention she was getting. Better they know who they were up against now, rather than later on.

Aegon looked at her slightly surprised at her laugh, a small quirk of a smile across his lips.

"Have I made you laugh?"

"I guess I feel honored, being complimented by the prince of Westeros."

Aegon nodded once at her, but he didn't take her answer for the truth.

He was no fool.

The Prince of Westeros had learnt under his mother and his uncles, the two princes of Dorne. He knew charming and he knew scheming.

It was rather amusing to see it in the face of the Rose of the Reach.

Cute too.

Not that he hadn't been expecting it, being the crown prince came with a lot of expectations as well as wondering eyes.

She almost reminded him of his cousin, Arianne in a way. And if Lady Margaery were Dornish, both would have been a force to reckon with.

She was definitely someone to look out for.

His eyes moved across the room and caught something silvery.

He might not have been able to see much of her the day before, but she did look very beautiful.

It was no wonder many looked in her direction.

Lyarra Dayne.

He stifled a smile.

Perhaps he'd get a chance to ask for a dance before the night was out. He wondered just how horrified her reaction might be.

Something to look forward to, perhaps.

---

Meanwhile, as Jon and Lyarra spoke quietly amongst each other, the clearing of a throat made them pause, as they turned to see a young man.

Possibly one of the numerous minor noble sons from the Crownlands. With curly dark brown hair and blue eyes, he was quite handsome with a friendly enough smile.

He bowed at both cousins, before turning towards a surprised Lyarra.

"My lady, if you would do me the honor and let me have your first dance of the night."

He held out a hand, startling a surprised Lyarra further.

She should have expected it at some point. To be approached by men who would probably want the favor of House Stark or House Dayne, or just wanted her favor.

It seemed so foreign to her that she couldn't stop the slight fluttery feeling she felt as she turned to an unamused Jon.

But even he knew she couldn't just reject the young man for no reason, and so he nodded slightly, which she took as approval, making her turn back to the young man, curtseying slightly.

"Of course Ser, I would be honored."

A look of satisfaction grew across his face as she put her hand in his, and together, they moved towards the dance floor.

Jon watched the two for a moment. Lyarra didn't look uncomfortable and the young man hadn't looked suspicious looking. Besides, he knew his cousin could take care of herself. She was much like his sister Mya, and that friend of hers from Tarth.

Condolences to all their future spouses.

With a snort, he walked off, looking to ask a lady for a dance.

As for Lyarra, she suddenly realized that the first young man had been the one to open the floodgate that was other dance partners, as once her first dance ended, a second suitor walked over and she found herself engaging in a second dance, and then a third, this one perhaps in his early 30s, much to her consternation.

She'd like to say she was saved by the 5th suitor, someone who actively surprised her by his approach.

Ser Garlan Tyrell.

"My lady, if I could have a dance?"

A younger girl nearby threw her a dirty glare even as she took the hands of her own suitor and was directed towards the dance floor.

Floweriness.

"I would be honored, Ser."

She couldn't deny that he was even more handsome up close. With curly brown hair and brown eyes, he stood tall and had an air of authority and prestige about him.

"My thanks for accepting, Lady Dayne."

Lyarra nodded once.

"Of course, it was only right."

"Indeed. Most people throw away curtseys and honor in this day and age. A sad thing, might I say, when honor is what we should all stand by. A code of conduct, if you will. Much like myself, if I do say so myself. To be counted amongst the more valiant knights of the realm and—"

Lyarra's eyes glossed slightly.

Of course. All good looking men had something that made them out as odd. There was no doubt now, as she looked at Ser Garlan, even as he spoke about honor and being a knight and following the rules of the kingdom.

She should have expected it.

If this was what all of Sansa's knights in shining armor talked about, then perhaps she would be better off without any of their type.

Now, If only she could change the conversation—aha!

"You did well during the tourney, Ser."

He glanced down at her, slightly surprised at having been interrupted from his heated speech to himself, nodding a little.

"Thank you, my lady. To be able to represent my family in the melee, and fight with some of the best knights in the realm, I am very honored indeed."

Lyarra nodded grimly in agreement.

"Indeed. Your fighting style was also impressive."

Garlan smiled in satisfaction and his shoulders rose slightly, making him look a slight caricature of his fat father.

"Thank you, my lady. My training wasn't one of ease, might I add. In my early youth I trained day and night, dawn till dusk and never against one opponent."

Lyarra looked at him interestedly now.

"Oh?"

"Indeed. I practiced three against myself. It helped me hone not just my strength, but my ability to sense attacks better than most. While my brother Loras is the best with the lance, I can say I am better with the sword."

Lyarra was definitely impressed. Robb would love to befriend Ser Garlan, and she believed Ser Garlan might also get along with her brother, both with their propensity for honor and all it entailed.

"My brother Robb would love to try such a technique. Training with him in the yard back at Winterfell had been one of my most favorite times of my day."

Her eyes turned wistful while Garlan frowned slightly.

"Practice? Whatever do you mean?"

"Oh… I know my way with the sword, Ser."

Garlan's eyes widened in slight surprise as he looked at her.

"You practice… the sword?"

Lyarra's eyes narrowed only for a second, before she nodded.

"Of course. Is there a problem?"

Garlan looked at her in disbelief.

"Problem… is there a problem? My lady, there certainly is a problem! Why, the duties of a lady have nothing to do with tourney grounds and practice yards! By the honor of a man—"

Lyarra's eyes glazed again.

Of course he'd have a problem against women being fighters. It was always the handsome ones.

She sighed wistfully.

It made her wonder what he'd do if he ever caught his future good sister, the princess, with her spear.

He'd probably fall to his death from a heart attack.

The thought amused her. She snapped out of it when he started speaking of honor again… and Lyarra…

Lyarra sighed.

At least he was handsome.

---

The King smiled as he watched his brother dance with his wife.

Viserys was certainly someone he was awfully fond of. While most knew how he could find his brother confusing, some knew he was very fond of his brother and the oddities of his life.

It amused him so, how his mother tittered about trying to get him a bride. If his brother wasn't actively searching, no one could force him to do what he didn't.

It should concern him, seeing as his brother was the Lord of Dragonstone and expected to birth another generation of Targaryens to take over Dragonstone, but he was too fond of his brother to push him to do what he didn't.

He wasn't his father.

He'd never be.

His brother would be fine.

His own son though… that was another story all together.

"Your grace."

Rhaegar blinked twice, turning slightly and looking down to see another face he'd been expecting to approach him soon enough.

Tyrion Lannister of Casterly Rock.

"Lord Lannister. I hope you are enjoying yourself?"

Tyrion grinned wryly, a goblet of wine in hand.

"A wonderful feast, your grace. I think I saw one of the lords challenge a bard to a singing battle some ways back."

Rhaegar stifled an amused smile. The dwarf of Casterly Rock still had a rather uncouth mouth after all these years.

"Is anything the matter, Lord Lannister?"

"Not at all, your grace. I have brought my son with me. It is time for him to begin his squireship."

Rhaegar hummed in thought.

Had it been that long already?

"Very well. But now is not the time for such delicate discussions. Bring your son with you for a meeting sometime tomorrow afternoon, we'll talk then."

Tyrion bowed in acquiescence, before a look of reluctance appeared on his face.

"Your grace… my brother... He is your Kingsguard…"

Rhaegar immediately understood.

"You want your son to squire for your brother."

Tyrion nodded once.

"I do not think it will be that easy, Lord Lannister. A Lannister squiring under another Lannister, when the rest of the realm wants to see this as part of your house's punishment."

Tyrion's shoulders drooped slightly, but the king wasn't done.

"Do not worry though, for I am fair if anything. Be at peace in your heart. We shall discuss further on the morrow."

"Thank you, your grace."

With another bow, Tyrion walked off, leaving Rhaegar with a thinking look on his face, even as his dear friend Jon walked over with a fond smile.

---

Elia smiles as she talks to one of her Ladies, a drink in hand, her eyes filtering through the crowd, stopping occasionally at people of interest.

At some point, she did see Lyarra dancing with Garlan Tyrell and wondered if the lady of thorns had put her grandson to that. But then again, Lyarra was a beautiful girl who stood out quite a lot, even more with her silvery gown and exotic looks.

She'd have to watch on behalf of the girl so she wouldn't be pushed into unknowing plots.

Her son was still on the floor as well, dancing with another maiden. She hadn't been surprised to see Margaery Tyrell sink her claws in when she'd had the chance, and while she hadn't focused on them as much as she'd like thanks to her amused husband who told her to leave them be, she still knew a ploy when she saw one.

Still though, she wouldn't lie that she was very impressed with the girl.

Very impressed indeed.

Just then, she noticed said queen of thorns approaching her and she stifled a sigh internally, turning towards Sarah Lonmouth who nodded once in understanding and excused herself.

"Lady Olenna."

Elia nodded with a benign smile.

"Your grace. I would think you'd be on the dance floor."

"Ah, a little rest was needed. I'm not as young as I used to be."

Olenna scoffs.

"Bah! If anyone has old bones between the both of us, then it is certainly me. Anyways, we will be family soon. I thought it prudent to come keep you company."

Elia smiled.

"Of course. Are you enjoying the feast, perhaps?"

Olenna sniffed slightly.

"Feasts don't mean much for me anymore. I'd rather be in bed right about now."

Elia raised an eyebrow.

"Then why are you not?"

"Looking out for my family of course. Mace needs that helping hand, no matter what he thinks."

That he does, Elia internally thought.

"And my granddaughter would be disappointed if I left without bidding her a goodnight."

Ahh… there it was.

Elia's eyes scanned the room in the hopes of finding a way to get out of the discussion.

"Indeed. You are very close with your granddaughter, it would seem."

Olenna nods.

"I do have quite the number of grandchildren and only two are granddaughters, but Margaery is the one who reminds me of myself in my youthful days, as long ago as that might be. With a brain behind a fancy face. Anyone would be lucky to have her in their family."

Elia nodded once, nothing on her face alluding otherwise.

"You must feel lucky then. Many young men seem to enjoy asking her for a dance."

She motioned towards said girl who was presently dancing with the heir to the Vale and a look of dislike appeared on Olenna's face at the sight of the boy.

The song ended, and said girl curtseyed, walking away from the young man who had a rather smug smirk on his face, even as Margaery walked up to the queen and her grandmother.

"Your grace. Grandmother."

She curtseyed with a smile and Elia smiled back at her.

"Lady Margaery, you seem well."

Margaery smiled in agreement just in time for the queen mother, Rhaella Targaryen, to walk over.

Still the timeless beauty that she was, years living out of Aerys' influence had done her good as she glowed even at her age of 53.

"Olenna, good daughter… and this must be your granddaughter, perhaps?"

Rhaella caught eyes with Elia and winked playfully, turning towards the queen of thorns who nodded respectfully at her.

"Your grace. Away from Dragonstone I see."

Rhaella hummed.

"Indeed. I could not miss the news of my dearest granddaughter's impending nuptials. Congrats to you as well, of course."

Olenna nodded.

"Hm. Some may say it's been a long time coming."

Rhaella's eyes sharpened at that but she said nothing, only smiling.

The sight of Viserys walking over though, made her smile become even more genuine.

"Mother, you will not believe what I heard from one of the traveling bards. Rumors say one of the Magisters in Pentos has somehow acquired dragon eggs—Oh, greetings ladies."

The Prince of Dragonstone bowed, blinking at the women gathered with his mother and good sister, one very beautiful and the other mostly bones and saggy skin.

This must be Lady Olenna.

Rhaella smiled as she placed a hand on her son's back, noticing the curious look on Margaery Tyrell's face.

For all his oddness, Viserys was just as handsome as his brother, the very picture of a prince much like his younger nephew, and still readily available.

"Lady Olenna, Lady Margaery, introductions are in order. This is my son, Viserys Targaryen. Prince of Dragonstone. Son, this is the Lady Olenna and Lady Margaery of Highgarden."

Viserys bowed, not forgetting his station.

"Ladies, a pleasure."

He grabbed Margaery's outstretched hands, placing a kiss to it.

Olenna didn't miss the sharp look in Rhaella's face.

Did she think throwing this prince at them would make Margaery forget the true price? Not forgetting this one's propensity to an odd sort of madness?

Olenna had been in the games since before the queen mother was born.

She should know better.

Elia then cleared her throat.

"Well, I should be heading back to Rhaegar."

Viserys perked up at that.

"Indeed. I would very much like to discuss with my brother as well. It seems you both have been keeping things from me."

Elia smiled, amused as he held his arm out for her which she took. He turned to his mother, a questioning look on his face and Olenna used that opportunity to excuse herself.

"A pleasure speaking to you again, Queen Rhaella. Perhaps another time."

Rhaella smiled benignly.

"Of course, you as well Olenna."

They exchanged sharp smiles, and Rhaella turned, locking arms with her son, and together, the Targaryens were off, leaving two flowers of the Reach staring at them in contemplation.

Meanwhile, as the three Targaryens reached Rhaegar who seemed to be in a conversation with his Hand, Viserys puffed up slightly.

"Brother, I am most miffed with you."

Rhaegar blinked, turning to stare at his frowning brother.

"…Miffed?"

Viserys sniffed.

"Indeed. How could you keep this from me? Everyone of you seem to know. And you, good sister, have I not been a supporter of your justices?"

Elia exchanged a look with Rhaegar and shrugged, making the king sigh exasperatedly.

"What have I done this time, brother?"

"You kept your third child from me, you did!"

Rhaegar looked at his brother in alarm, Elia doing the same while Jon Connington and the queen mother just looked confused.

"Third child?... What are you…"

Viserys finally took pity on the couple.

"It's alright. I am not too mad anymore. But still, having your Visenya. Congratulations brother of mine. She has quite the Targaryen coloring too. Saw her with Elia and mother the other day. I see why you have hidden her all this while."

Jon choked and Rhaegar looked at his brother slightly surprised and almost horrified while Elia and Rhaella who finally understood, covered their widening smiles with their hands.

"Daughter? I only have—"

"It is quite alright, brother of mine. Quite alright."

With that, he walked off, leaving his confused brother, a choking Hand, and amused good sister and mother behind.

---

Lyarra bickered slightly with Jon, looking like she wanted to be anywhere but where she was.

"You said you were going to introduce us."

"Yes, but not at the moment. Not when she is surrounded by her family. I am only an acquaintance, I already told you that."

Lyarra threw her cousin an exasperated look.

"But you danced with her brother. Perhaps you could—"

Lyarra wiped the scheming look of his face with a grim look.

"I am not whoring myself out just so you can have a go at the love of your life."

Jon spluttered, much to the silvery blonde's vicious satisfaction.

"I am not—she isn't—How dare—"

"You two almost remind me of Benjen and myself back when we were younger. Always bickering. What is it this time?"

Lyanna smirked at the two where she stood with her husband and Lyarra grinned, ready to embarrass Jon even further.

She hadn't quite forgiven him and his brother for the madness they'd caused the last time they'd been to Winterfell.

"Lya—"

"He wants me to introduce him to the Lady Margaery."

Lord Baratheon's eyes widened in humor and lecherousness much to Jon's consternation as he groaned while his father let out a bellied laughter.

"Oh oh oh! A Lady, I hear? Perhaps I could—"

"No! Absolutely not, father!"

Jon threw his mother an alarmed look and Lyanna chuckled, winking at her niece before looking back at her smiling husband and playfully slapping him on the arm.

"Let Jon deal with his love life on his own—"

"Mother!"

"—Come, let's go greet your cousin, I see Connington with him too, I have a bone to settle."

Lyanna's chilling smile looked so much more deadlier than Arya's, in Lyarra's opinion.

Robert perked up at that as his eyes immediately searched out their targets and were soon off.

Jon turned to his cousin with a glare.

"Very well, if you won't help me out, I will do it on my own. I am a Baratheon after all."

With that, he puffed up, ignoring Lyarra's mocking smile, and walked past her, towards the direction of the Tyrells.

Lyarra watched as her cousin bowed in greetings to the Lord of Highgarden who puffed up and greeted the Heir.

She was very impressed by his forwardness, even as he seemingly asked Lady Margaery for a dance.

Surprisingly or not surprisingly, she seemed to accept his offer and she chuckled slightly as she watched him lead her to the floor.

"Good on you, cousin. Good on you."

She might not know the lady well. And she might not know what to really think of her as well… but Jon seemed to like her, and it wasn't exactly her issue to deal with anyways.

---

"Thank you for agreeing, my Lady."

Jon spoke as they twirled slowly and Margaery smiled at him.

"Of course. Why ever would I say no?"

Jon grinned.

"Why ever indeed. Perhaps my cousin made me just as nervous to think so."

Margaery's eyes sharpened at that.

"Cousin?"

She'd seen him with Lyarra Dayne sometime in the evening, perhaps they were close.

Perhaps he could tell her about the girl. Thankfully the song being played was shorter than most, but she could grasp some information on said girl through a very reliable and willing source.

Her smile widened and Jon felt fluttery in his tummy.

Her smile was beautiful.

"Yes. Lyarra Dayne."

"Are you close to her?"

Jon smiled.

"As close as the distance can allow. But we are rather close, yes."

"I am impressed. Most noble sons and daughters do not think much of bastards."

Jon frowned slightly.

"She is a bastard no longer. And besides, I care not for such a term. I have a sister named Mya. A bastard from my Lord Father's earlier days before he married my mother. We are very close."

"Oh, really?"

"She is very much like my father in looks and strength, might I add. An aspiring swordswoman."

A coy smile reached Margaery's face.

"Much like your cousin, perhaps?"

Jon's grin widens and for a second, Margaery admires his smile.

Once again, too bad he wasn't who she was focused on. Things would have been easier.

The dance didn't last long, seeing as it had started a little while before he asked her. But it was good enough for the Baratheon heir who had a rather satisfied look on his face as he escorted her back to her family and bid her a good day.

---

The rest of the feast went as smoothly as could go. Dancing, celebration, drinking and eating, some fights breaking out but easily taken care of.

Lyarra even stumbled upon a words battle as a Valyrian looking girl in her mid 20s outwitted a spineless suitor who scowled, called her an old maid and stormed off. Said girl had noticed Lyarra looking at her admiringly, threw her a friendly wink and walked off with respectable dignity.

Jon had informed her she was Larissa Velaryon. Presently 26 name days old and regarded as an old maid because of how she'd rejected all her suitors and was continuously single.

Lyarra didn't think that mattered. Perhaps the girl preferred things that way.

She could have her reasons, and besides, her Lord Father didn't seem to have problems with that… publicly anyways.

As the night slowly began to come to an end, Lyarra relaxing into the atmosphere so different from that of the North, as well as wondering if Sarah, her maid had fed Ghost for the night.

Her eyes focused on Jon who seemed to look at something behind her, eyebrows slightly raised, which in turn made her look behind herself.

Oh no…

Her eyes widened slightly as she stared at the rather infuriating smirk of the young man coming her way, looking otherworldly as usual.

"Jon. Lyarra."

Prince Aegon greeted with a smile on his face and Jon nodded back friendly enough, though his eyes slid over to Lyarra's in slight surprise having not known about the seeming closeness between the two, what with the prince calling her by her name.

"Prince Aegon."

Jon greeted with a bow and Aegon smiled.

"Would you mind if I borrowed your cousin for a while?"

He then turned towards a confused Lyarra, holding out a hand.

"I would love a dance."

Lyarra breathed out lowly, slightly flummoxed, even as she saw some eyes on them.

"Not at all… I guess…"

Jon said, whispering the last part beneath his breath, and the prince turned back to Lyarra again, his smile turning challenging.

"That is if… you are up for it?"

Oh this…

Lyarra sniffed slightly, raising her hand and putting it in his, a too wide smile on her face.

"Of course, Aegon. I'd be delighted."

With a winning smile, he led Lyarra towards the dance floor, nodding towards the performers who understood and began playing one of his favorite ballads as he twirled her and brought her close.

Lyarra suddenly felt flustered at being in close proximity with the prince once more.

This time though, they weren't stomping about like idiots in Winterfell, this time… it felt more… real.

He grinned down at her, his purple eyes glittering and his teeth just as bright and Lyarra bemoaned the unfairness of it all internally.

"This is one of my favorite songs."

He said, and she hummed, still feeling a large number of eyes on her. She tried to focus on him alone, but that was just as nerve wracking as the people staring at her.

"That's… nice…"

She mumbled and his smile softened a bit, an understanding look on his face.

"Try not to let them get to you."

She looked at him in surprise and his eyes turned knowing.

"It can be hard, having eyes staring at you from everywhere, but it's better to own it than let them get to you."

Her eyes turned curious as they moved slightly around the floor.

"This is how it is for you, then?"

He shrugged slightly.

"It gets better."

Lyarra's eyes narrowed slightly as it filtered through the crowd.

"I don't think so."

He chuckled, his voice snapping her out of it and back to him.

"Let me see if I can't focus your attention elsewhere. Tell me, how different is this from a Northern New Year Feast?"

At the mention of the North, Lyarra's smile became genuine.

"Well, it is cold for sure. No going to Septs… well except perhaps for the Lady of Winterfell. We thank the old gods instead. The men go on hunts and come back with large offerings which are then prepared for the feasts to come. Much louder and rowdier in fact."

He hummed slightly, his head tilting a bit as if imagining it.

"That sounds like an experience. Perhaps I will get to attend one in the future."

She quirked an eyebrow.

By now, she'd almost given up on trying to maintain decorum and giving the respect to the prince that his station deserved.

But he just seemed so easy to talk with. And it wasn't like he even made things better by how he regarded her with ease.

"I thought you didn't like the Northern cold."

"It does not change the fact that the North has its special moments and secrets."

She quirked a small smile.

"Like how you have your own secrets, Young Griff?"

He smiled at her.

"Indeed."

"How did you get the dye out of your hair so quickly though?"

"There are dyes that are easily washable. Would you like to try it out?"

She wrinkled her nose and he chuckled.

"I'd rather not."

Aegon sighed playfully.

"Shame. It would seem I can't take you on some of my more secret explorations then."

As soon. As he said that, an intrigued look appeared on her face and Aegon smirked in satisfaction.

"Where?"

"Not your business."

He shrugged and her eyes narrowed dangerously, her face setting into a grim look so reminiscent of the other Starks that he laughed slightly.

"You looked very menacing. Perhaps this is how wildlings look. Very ferocious, they are described."

He leaned down, whispering into her ear and she shivered slightly as his lips touched her ear.

Lyarra shook her head slightly, snapping out of her daze and leaning back with a glare, she moved to remove her hand from his so as to subconsciously land a punch, but Aegon had obviously been expecting such a move as he held on firmer, drawing her closer by her waist and she yelped at their even closer proximity.

Their faces a little too close to be considered appropriate, but it seemed the two were in their own worlds, as Aegon smiled down at her, his eyes sparkling.

"I win this time."

His grin widened, even as Lyarra felt a flutter in her tummy, but she stared at him head on.

She wasn't the type to back away from a challenge.

And he certainly was one.

---

Lost in their own little world, they both were, that they didn't notice the looks their interaction was garnering from the more watchful individuals with sharper eyes.

Was it Olenna's rather displeased look? Margaery's calculative one… Varys' eyes bright with schemes… even the Queen's surprised one, having not expected such closeness from the pair.

Oberyn watched them amused, his paramour beside him and one of his daughters as well. Nymeria watched with an interested look in her eyes.

The King's eyes filtered across the room as he stared at his subjects, only to pause for a second on them and continuing across the room.

It was safe to say the feast had both given some more information on things as well as brought some closer.

Suffice to say not everyone was happy with how the feast ended.

---

As Lyarra slept that night, she turned slightly, sweat across her forehead as she grasped her blanket tightly.

She saw fire. Lots and lots of fire.

Green and red fire intermixing.

There was a girl, seemingly naked with chars and scorch marks of soot on her skin.

That was no stranger… that was Lyarra herself.

Unharmed as she stood in the fire.

Above her, she heard the flapping of wings.

She tried to look up, but before she could, she found herself waking up with a startled gasp, her temperature very high and her heart beating like the hounds of the seven hells were on her tail.

Very curious indeed.

---

It was morning, and Lyarra was in a slight mood.

She'd had a very weird dream, that much was true.

Why had she been naked in the midst of fire?

Granted the previous day had been very stressful, it shouldn't surprise her that her mind would create such odd scenarios while she was asleep.

She snorted as she tightened her breeches, nodding in approval of how she looked. Her hair in a tight braid, ready to head to the sparring yard.

Ser Barristan and her uncle had said she was allowed after all.

Though she felt her nerves, it wouldn't stop her from marching into the yard and doing as she wanted.

She glanced down at Ghost.

"Come along boy, today, we show what we are made of."

He wagged his tail, yawning slightly and showing his growing fangs. From the letter she got from Robb a few days earlier, his direwolf had hit the first growth spurt, growing as large an hunting hound.

Seeing as Ghost was the runt of the litter, it was understandable that he'd take his time growing into his size, but from what she could see, his first growth spurt would be soon.

She couldn't quite wait for him to grow into his majority and be as large as a full grown horse. Would she be able to ride him? Direwolves were described as faster than the wind itself after all.

A thought for another day.

She walked out of her room, marching out of the Ladies' keep and into the hallways of the Red Keep itself, garnering some eyes from maids and guards alike.

She already knew where the main sparring yard was, having hunted it down a while ago, and as she entered, she saw quite the number of people already going about their day.

Men at arms, soldiers, a few nobles here and there.

Some did double takes when they saw her, and Lyarra felt some satisfaction at that.

Her eyes went around the large yard, Ghost being the trusty protector by her side as he looked around curiously, eyes red and slightly menacing with it's color.

And then, she saw her.

She had the skin of the Salty Dornish, with a light golden skin. Big boned and long legged with rat brown hair in a knot.

She had on breeches, much like Lyarra herself, a tunic shirt and a belt of copper suns as she attacked a practice dummy with her spear.

Lyarra watched, almost entranced as she attacked with such ease and skill, taking in how her feet stood apart or how firm her hands were, when the older girl finally turned to look at who had been staring at her.

Her eyes widened slightly as she stared at the other girl, both taking each other's appearance in.

And then Obara glared slightly, her brown eyes alight with challenge, startling Lyarra a little.

"Are you just going to stand there gawking or are you going to ask for a spar?"

Lyarra blinked, a little surprised.

"I… don't know my way with a spear."

Obara sneered slightly, throwing her spear to the side and grabbing two blunt practice swords and not the wooden ones, throwing one over to Lyarra who caught it by the hilt, subconsciously taking a warrior stance.

Obara's eyes noted with approval, even as she held her sword up to, both ignoring some of the watchful men in the yard.

"Ready to loose?"

Obara goaded and Lyarra's eyes narrowed for a split second, before setting into a grim look.

"I should be asking you that."

A look of irritation and challenge appeared on the older and larger girl's face as she grunted.

"Very well. Ready when you are."

Lyarra nodded firmly.

"Ready."

And with a slight shout, they rushed at each other.

---

The two girls continued to fight through the early mornings, some stopping their practice to watch them a bit before going back to theirs.

And though Lyarra lost a vast majority of the time, her respect for the newly named Obara Sand grew and as for Obara, she respected the younger girl's ability to stand back up after being beaten into the ground.

Lyarra was petite and 16 name days compared to the big boned 23 name days old Obara, but it didn't mean the older one didn't give her words of advice as they trained.

"Straighten your legs."

"Dig deeper."

"Raise your hands slightly."

"Hold the sword looser."

"Bunch up."

All in all, both girls seemed to have developed a healthy amount of respect for the other, even as Oberyn arrived and watched his daughter with a sly smile on his face, his daughter Nymeria arriving with him, staring interestedly at the Dayne girl.

After a while, Obara stopped their sparring, cracking her neck.

"Not bad, Northerner. You're very fast. Faster than many."

Lyarra gave her a thankful nod even as she breathed heavily, throwing down her blunt sword.

Her legs felt heavy and her arms… she couldn't feel it!

Compared to her training in Winterfell, this was harsher and stricter.

She should have expected it though… her trainers back home wouldn't push her too much as even still, there was some stigma to women fighting, and add to it that she was the daughter of their Lord Paramount, even if she was a bastard.

Obara Sand though, didn't need to baby her. She hit and hit and hit without care, shouting out commands and advice and Lyarra enjoyed that very well.

A sparring partner who didn't fear the use of force.

"Thank you. You are very strong."

She said back to the older girl who shrugged.

"Years and years of practice."

The sound of a clap made them both turn to see Oberyn Martell with a wide grin on his face as he walked over.

"Very impressive, Lyarra. Impressive indeed."

She silvery blonde smiled slightly, a proud feeling in her chest at being recognized for something other than her beauty.

"Thank you, Prince Oberyn."

Just then, Lyarra noticed the other girl standing next to said prince and giving her a most peculiar smile.

She was very beautiful.

With large dark expressive eyes and wine red lips and olive Dornish skin much like Obara. She was slim and slender and dressed in orange robes of silk that accentuated her for.

To most, they'd probably see a beauty, but Lyarra could see the edginess from a mile away. She probably had weapons on her body somewhere.

What startled the younger girl though, was the almost seductive grin being thrown her way.

It made her… nervous.

"Obara… keeping company without me, how rude."

Nymeria Sand pouted slightly and her older sister rolled her eyes at jeez unconcerned.

"You already knew where I was headed this morning. It should not surprise you."

Nymeria huffed, walking forward… well, more like sauntering.

"Well then, you should introduce me to your lovely friend here."

She threw a wink at Lyarra who blinked at her and looked away, almost embarrassed.

Oberyn let out giddy laughter.

"Nym dear, I'm sure you know this is Ashara Dayne's daughter. Lyarra, meet one of my daughters, Nymeria Sand. You know, the one I told you could defrost all your Northern ice."

Nymeria playfully gasped, moving to stand near the slightly shorter girl.

"Father! You already talked about me?! Very well…"

Her eyes slid over Lyarra's with interest as she dragged a hand down Lyarra's hand, making said girl blush.

"Don't worry. I'll make sure to take GOOD care of her."

Obara finally cut in.

"Do leave her be, sister. I don't want you harming my new sparring partner."

"You have nothing to worry about, Obara… I just want to… defrost her is all."

Her grin widened in a predatory manner, and Lyarra pondered if it would be a good idea to run for the heels right about now.

But it was too late, as Nymeria's locked arms with her and she threw a betrayed look at a calm looking Ghost who ignored her obvious plea.

Traitor.

"Come. You must be hungry. We have some food in our room."

"I think I'd like to change first. And have a bath."

Nymeria's eyes glittered.

"Can I join you?"

Lyarra blushed and Oberyn laughed out again.

"Come now, daughter. Let the girl freshen up first. We're staying at the Red Keep for a while."

The Sand Snake's eyes narrowed at that.

"Indeed. Very well."

She separated from Lyarra who stifled a relieved sigh.

"But I expect you to come find us after you freshen up, Lyarra. It would certainly be nice to hear all about the North from a direct source. Aegon was such a bore when it came to explaining."

Nymeria rolled her eyes fondly at the mention of her younger cousin even as Obara snickered.

Lyarra though, nods.

"Of course. I'd like to hear about Dorne too."

"And I have somewhere else to go with Ellaria."

Oberyn added, rubbing his hands together in glee.

"You just want to check out the new exotic dancers in the Street of Silk."

Oberyn shrugged unashamed.

"What can I say, I love being entertained."

With that, he walked off, Nymeria throwing a wink at Lyarra as she walked off with Obara who have her a nod.

The younger girl could only stare at the Dornish group as they disappeared from her line of sight.

Her cheeks still slightly red even as she felt flustered.

So those were the Dornish…

How… enlightening.

"They're an odd people, right Ghost?"

Ghost pawed at his face, his eyes on where they'd gone too.

---

The King's Solar.

"You asked to see me father?"

Aegon spoke up as he was let into his father's solar that morning.

The solar was very large and spacious, with quite the amount of tomes in bookcases. On one side, was the portrait of Aegon the conqueror. It was quite old, made in oil painting, and Rhaenys had mentioned once in passing how Aegon himself seemed to be growing similar in appearance to his counterpart. Frankly he couldn't see it, but then again that was just him.

His father looked up, a fond look in his eyes as he gestured him over, some parchment documents on the table which he was focused on.

"Sit, son."

He wasted no time doing as commanded, his eyes glancing once at the document as well as the King's official stamp by the side.

"Is something the matter?"

"Nothing too serious. Now that you're a knight, are you looking into taking a squire anytime soon?"

Aegon quirked an eyebrow in slight surprise.

"Squire? So soon?"

His father smiled, slightly amused as he stared out the rather large window by their side.

"I became a knight at your age, son. And a few moons after, Myles Mooton became my squire."

His eyes brightened in remembrance of his first squire whom he'd knighted few years after but unfortunately died during the Mad King's war.

He sighed, turning back to his son.

"And then after knighting Ser Mooton, Ser Richard became my squire."

Aegon snorted, slightly amused.

"Yes well, mother mentioned you were an overachiever."

Rhaegar let out a soft laugh but his son continued.

"The silver prince, they called you. The last dragon."

Rhaegar hummed, his eyes glittering.

"Indeed. Just as much as they call you their favored prince. Their promised prince."

Aegon rolled his eyes.

"I get the feeling you encouraged that name, father."

Rhaegar shook his head.

"Trust me, son. I never encouraged that. It was just… given to you. A destined name, if you will."

Aegon sighed, staring at his father fondly.

"You and your talks about destiny. Never changed, old man."

His father huffed out a laugh at that.

"39 is old, you say?"

"You will be 40 in a moon. Hardly 39."

Aegon shrugged unapologetically and Rhaegar relaxed into his chair, smiling at his son.

"Tell me father, if you are bringing up squires now, do you have one you would like me to take?"

"Indeed. What do you know of Tion Lannister?"

Aegon tilted his head at his father, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.

"The son of Tyrion Lannister. Heir to Casterly Rock. Celebrated his 12 name day not too long ago… ahh… it is time, isn't it?"

His eyes brightened with understanding and Rhaegar nodded.

"Indeed. His father asked if he could squire under his uncle, but that is unacceptable. No matter how much I trust Jaime…"

"Some wouldn't take that well."

He finished for his father who nodded.

"Indeed. And that is why I ask if you would like a squire. Arthur just knighted you. He would like some time to his own before getting another. Ser Barristan is much too busy to take one at the moment. Lewyn and Oswell the same as well. Jonothor isn't a child friendly person."

Aegon snorted.

Jonothor would scare the child into tears.

Definitely not the right person.

"What about Gendry?"

Rhaegar raised an eyebrow.

"Gendry is too…"

He paused, looking for the right word and his son stifled a grin, speaking up.

"He'd be awful, is what you mean. A man child, if you will."

Rhaegar chuckled.

"Indeed. And the least said about Viserys, the better."

Aegon snickered, before he sighed.

"It's okay, father. I understand you. But… can I have a moon or two to myself? Perhaps when I turn 18."

Rhaegar smiled at his son in approval.

"Very well. I shall keep the boy by my side for the next two moons. He will be my page boy, and then he will become your squire. To the rest of the realm, it will look nicely for us, as we are capable of looking towards the future, ranted than the past. Capable of forgiveness, if you will."

Aegon nodded absentmindedly

"Yes. Thank you, father."

"Have you spoken to your mother today?"

"Not at all."

"You should. She is quite curious about the number of ladies you danced with at the feast last evening."

Aegon stifled a groan, running his hand through his soft silvery hair.

"Perhaps I could avoid her for the time being."

Rhaegar laughed.

"There is no avoiding your mother, son. She probably knows where you are at the moment."

Aegon snorted.

"I know she knows. That woman could very well become Varys' adversary for Master of Whisperers, if she so wished."

The two men smiled fondly as they thought of the woman they both thought of fondly.

The Targaryen Prince then stood up.

"I better go find her then."

"Of course."

With a small bow, Aegon walked out of his father's solar just in time to see the Lord of Casterly Rock turn the corner with his son in tow.

---

"So, Lyarra… how are you liking King's Landing?"

Nymeria questioned the silvery blonde as she took a bite of the sweet peach fruit where she sat next to the older Dornish girl.

By the balcony sat another Sand Snake. This one with golden hair, deep blue eyes and fair skin.

Tyene.

She looked so pious and innocent, but that could very well be a skin she uses to hide who she truly was. After all, she was also a daughter of the Red Viper.

"It's been nice. The queen has been very nice to me."

Lyarra swallowed the fruit before speaking, and Nymeria grinned as she rested on one side, next to the younger girl.

"My aunt is one of the sweetest women ever. Not many can hold a grudge against her, except those just wanting to for no reason."

A coy smile then grew across her face.

"So tell me Lyarra… are all your siblings as… gorgeous as you?"

She trailed a hand through Lyarra's silvery tresses and let out a playful laughter when said girl's cheeks turned red.

"Stop teasing her, Nym. Don't you have other things to do? People's secrets to acquire?"

Tyene's rather low voice sounded by the balcony where she painted her toes with a glittery blue colored paint.

Nymeria's face adopted that of irritation at her sister's interruption.

"Why don't you mind your own business, sister dearest."

"I am. This is my room too."

She threw a disgruntled look at her sister before throwing a considering one at a slightly uncomfortable Lyarra.

"Try not to let her get to you. She knows her boundaries and is very careful not to push them.

Nymeria huffed, finally turning towards the slightly younger Sand.

"Would you stop interacting us? We're obviously in the middle of a satisfying conversation!"

"Or rather, you're just looking for something to satisfy you base needs since your Fowler twins couldn't come with us."

At the name, Lyarra perked up.

"Fowler? Any relations to Lady Sylvia Fowler, one of the Queen's Ladies?"

Nymeria turned back to her, a rather interested look in her eyes.

"Lady Sylvia is their mother. They are one of my closest friends… almost right there with cousin Arianne."

"Friends… of course."

Turned snorted out in amusement and Nymeria left out a whining huff.

"Would you just keep quiet, little sister? I'm trying to have a moment here!"

"You're 20 and I'm 19. There's nothing little about me. If anything, Lyarra is the little one."

"I will be 17 in a few moons."

Lyarra pointed out immediately. She very well couldn't consider herself a child. She was considered a young woman right from the age of 16 after all.

Nymeria smiled smugly, turning back to her.

"Indeed. There is certainly nothing… little, about you."

She purred slightly, leaning into Lyarra's personal space and making the girl blush while thinking of a way to escape.

Getting this kind of... attention, from a girl… it was something she'd never gotten before and she didn't know what to think of it.

Was this why other Southerners thought the Dornish too hot blooded? Because they seemingly didn't care whether they went after their own gender or not?!

She certainly didn't know what to think! She'd heard same sex relationships were a thing in Dorne though mostly kept under wraps. It made people look down on the hot headed people.

Seeing Nymeria in action right now though…

Said girl flicked Lyarra's hair out of her face and the silvery haired girl blushed once more from the attention she was being given, and Nymeria's eyes brightened.

---

The King's Solar.

"Your grace, this is my son. Tion Lannister."

Rhaegar watched as Tion stepped forward. He had a nervous look to him, what with how his eyes darted around the Solar in curiosity and the back at the King in slight fear.

He must have heard of what his grandfather had done and how it continues to affect his family still.

Tion Lannister knelt in greeting.

"Your grace, I am Tion Lannister, heir to Casterly Rock. And I come to you to serve the realm."

Rhaegar stifled a smile and nodded.

"Rise, Tion Lannister. And take a sit with your father."

Tyrion nodded thankfully as he helped himself to a seat, his son doing the same.

And then it was to business.

"I have discussed it already with those involved, and I have decided to first take your son as a page boy by my side for the first two moons or so… and after, he shall squire under my son, Aegon, with whom he shall grow to be a knight with."

As soon as he said those words, Tyrion's eyes widened considerably while Tion Lannister looked like his wishes had been fulfilled faster than thought.

"The Prince, your grace?"

Tyrion repeated in surprise.

"I'd have thought…"

"You'd have thought me callous enough to abandon him with someone unbecoming?"

Tyrion flushed slightly at the knowing look in the King's eyes.

So this was what it felt like, being spoken to by King Rhaegar?

"Do not worry, Lord Lannister, your son is heir to the Westerlands, I will not disrespect my people by disrespecting a Lord Paramount's son. And an innocent one at that. In any case, this is a royal command and already set into motion as I have discussed it with my son."

Tion stifled out an awes gasp, and when the King turned towards him, he blushed red and looked down at his lap.

"Apologies, your grace. I—I watched him during the tourney. He was… amazing."

He ended with a awed whisper.

Rhaegar allowed a smile here.

"Good to see you are not against the command. Now that that is taken care of, I would like to speak to you alone, Lord Lannister. Your brother mentioned you wanting an audience?"

Tyrion nodded, turning towards his son who immediately understood and respectfully excused himself from the room.

As the door closed, Rhaegar turned his eyes on Tyrion who then spoke up.

"It is about Gregor Clegane, your grace."

Rhaegar sighed, remembering the man that he himself actively knighted all those years ago.

He had been impressed with the man. His brute strength and lack of fear. And he had been looking on how to invite the man to become one of his Kingsguard members. But then the war had happened and others grew to fit the roll as well.

But he'd begun hearing about the kind of person Gregor Clegane was. Burning your own brother's face out of sheer anger?

What kind of a man was he?

"What is the matter, Lord Lannister?"

"Simply put, your grace, the man is a brute and growing to be a feared monster amongst his people."

Tyrion bluntly spoke and Rhaegar blinked.

"And you tell me this, why?"

"I cannot harm my subject, your grace. But perhaps a decree from the King can… curb his more violent ways."

Rhaegar hummed in thought.

"How long has it been happening?"

"A few moons now, your grace. I had other things to focus on."

Like the running mouths and schemes of some of the Westerlords more vocally against their imp lord.

Perhaps if they knew Tion would be squiring under the crowned prince of Westeros, they would step back a bit?

Something to think on.

"It would be better to have something done now, than before it is too late. I do not know what drives him your grace, but Clegane does not have a brain enough to cause problems like this."

Rhaegar's eyes sharpened in understanding.

"You think there's a plot?"

Tyrion smiled wryly.

"It's the Westerlands, your grace. They have never been happy with me as their Lord. Plots simmer in almost every keep. I will try my best to handle it in my own way of course. Nothing to worry about."

He smirked as he waved the King's concern off and Rhaegar nodded.

He had other things he was focusing on anyways. And if he said he could handle it, Rhaegar would let him.

But he would also tell Varys to keep an eye on things out there. Wouldn't do to be surprised by later changes after all.

He nodded, crossing his fingers on his oakwood table.

"Very well then. It would seem our meeting is over."

Tyrion nodded, before a slight look of hesitation appeared on his face, no longer the cocky little man.

"Your grace… I wonder. Will house Lannister ever be looked at favorably by the Royal family again?"

Rhaegar said nothing at first, his eyes clouding for a minute as if seeing something that wasn't there.

And then he blinked, staring down at Tyrion.

"Perhaps not our generation, Lord Lannister. I respect your brother indeed though. So, perhaps your own son and mine, may be the balm to beginning that forgiveness."

Tyrion nodded understandably at that.

Anything for his family.

---

Lyarra felt like her cheeks would become permanently red and warm.

Especially with the way Nymeria kept treating her.

She seemed like a nice girl, but her propensity to flirting with the silvery blonde was something she still found herself trying to get used to.

Even as Nymeria leaned closer to her, her eyes slightly hooded as it glanced down at Lyarra's pink lips.

Oh dear…

Just then, there was a knock on the door and as it opened, Obara walked in, checking first as beautiful girl with light brown skin and onyx eyes walked in behind her, and then Obara allowed a third to walk in.

Aegon.

His eyes brightened in welcomed surprise once he saw Lyarra, but then it changed into amusement once he saw her close proximity to his Sand Cousin.

Obara took one look at the two girls and sighed, an exasperated look on her disgruntled face while the other girl practically floated towards Tyene, a book in her hand.

"I told you not to scare her off, Nymeria."

Obara warned and Nymeria huffed.

"What are you all doing here anyways? And you too Aegon?"

Aegon smiled brightly as he walked over to the two, his eyes filtering towards Lyarra for a second and then back at Nymeria who's eyes narrowed slightly in consideration.

"Am I not allowed to see my beautiful cousins?"

All at once, Nymeria, Obara, Tyene and Sarella Sand snorted in unison.

He chuckled before speaking up again.

"In any case, my sister would like to spend time with her cousins. She calls for you."

Nymeria perked up, jumping to her feet even as Sarella dragged Tyene up as well, Obara already by the exit.

"Wonderful. We have a lot more to talk about."

She then turned her eyes on Lyarra who still sat down.

"Would you perhaps like to join us ladies?"

Her eyes glittered, and Aegon quickly stepped in.

"Or better yet, I escort her where she wishes to go. Minx."

Nymeria stared at her cousin who smirked and then she got closer to him, making sure he was the only one who could hear her.

"Don't think you've won, Targaryen."

Aegon's smirk widened.

"Of course, Sand."

With that, Nymeria rolled her eyes, turning slightly mournful eyes at Lyarra.

"It seems our meeting will have to end for now. But I look forward to spending more time with you some time soon… intimately."

She winked saucily and walked after Obara who turned to Lyarra as well.

"I hope to see you at the yard on the morrow, Dayne. Don't even think about missing it except you're dying."

She practically threatened and walked out with Nymeria, and Lyarra blinked.

Tyene was next as she crossed elbows with her younger sister.

"It was nice meeting you, Lyarra Dayne. There is something about you…"

She left her sentenced unfinished while Sarella threw the half Stark a nod and they left the room.

It was quiet, even as Lyarra suddenly questioned the oddities of the so-called Sand Snakes.

She heard a huffed laughter and turned to see Aegon watching her, even as he stared at her flustered face.

"Oh my… are you okay, Lyarra? You look a little red in the face."

He japed and Lyarra's eyes narrowed on him as she immediately got to her feet.

He raised his hands playfully as of to calm her down.

"Do keep calm. It was to be expected. Nymeria is known for being a tease to anyone she sets her sights on. The Dornish are… sometimes uncaring of gender. If we want something then we want it."

He shrugged unconcerned and Lyarra raised an eyebrow, still feeling slightly offended by him.

"Then perhaps your Targaryen blood has flushed your Dornish side away?"

She smirked playfully, trying to tease him. But it didn't work, as his grin widened, becoming almost challenging and making her stare at him warily as she suddenly realized they were both alone.

It wouldn't do to be found like this. What would be thought of her?

"And what makes you think I can't be as… convincing, as Nymeria?"

Lyarra stared at him disbelievingly. Honestly, he was the prince. Mind you, she knew he wasn't as… innocent as most. He was a man, after all… but still… he was… the prince!

That didn't seem to hold him though, as his grin turned into a wide smirk, and he began taking slow and controlled steps towards her, making her heart quicken.

"What are you doing?"

She questioned almost nervously.

"Nothing, Lyarra."

His voice sounded almost whispery… with an undertone of something she couldn't quite catch.

She swallowed tightly as be walked closer, the air between them suddenly becoming hotter.

She should move back… she really should… or perhaps, run off… but Lyarra's pride would never let her back away from a challenge.

Damn pride!

And then he was in front of her, slowly taking her jaw in his hand.

She shivered slightly and silently pondered if she was getting the chills. But then, he brought his face closer to hers… slowly but surely.

Her eyes widen as he leans down, and her ears were suddenly too loud with the drumming of her heart and nerves.

His eyes were on hers, almost contemplative as he studied her features much like she did his.

His eyes really were a beautiful thing to look at. Not quite like his father's or even his grandmother's… they were slightly more brighter to look at. More beautiful…

She felt his breath against her jaw, a cool thing… and it distracted her enough to glance down at his lips.

Realizing they were a little too close for comfort, or to be considered acceptable, she dragged her eyes back to his just in time to see mirth in them.

"What are you thinking?..."

He whispered with a low growl and for the first time in her life in the presence of a male, Lyarra felt heat between her thighs even as her cheeks turned red with embarrassment. Flusters. Anger.

She pushed him away and he huffed out a laugh, a hand on his stomach as she puffed in anger.

"Were you trying to seduce me?!"

His laugh increased and she let out an irritated huff, walking towards the exit. She really shouldn't be alone with him!

"Really Lyarra, everyone wiith Dornish blood has the Dornish wildness. Even you."

He teased as she opened the door and walked out.

She didn't even have the chance to let out a huge sigh as Ser Gendry stood by the door, resting rather precariously against the wall.

Their eyes met and a suggestive smirk grew across his face, making her receding blush come back in full as she threw him a glare and marched off, ignoring his snickers.

This place really was something else! She was beginning to regret coming here.

---

Ladies' Keep.

Later that night, as Lyarra laid in bed, preparing for slumber while already in her loose night gown while Ghost lay asleep by the fireplace, she wondered about Dorne.

How celebratory it was about things like skin and… sex.

'Every Dornish had their wild side.'

Aegon had said. Even her.

She knew she didn't know much about the activities of the flesh, but she'd heard about it from the more loose mouthed women back home in Wintertown.

Whenever she went to town to get whatever she needed, or just to buy sweets for Rickon, how some of the ladies even talked about entertaining themselves with their hands when their husband's proved too disappointing.

Lyarra's cheeks had blushed then, and still did at the moment… even as she herself knew she had explored on herself down between her legs sometimes. How she'd feel hums of pleasure go through her though she'd never gone too far out of fear of getting caught.

Even now, in the dark of the night… a more rebellious part of the silvery blonde raged as she slowly bunches up her gown underneath her covers, the brightness of the moon filtering through her opened windows and set aside curtains.

And then slowly but surely, brought her hands between her legs. She bit her lips slightly, but moved her hands for a bit, the beginnings of a twisted pleasure going through her making her shudder and writhe slightly as she closed her eyes, turning to her side and stifling her gasps even as her breathing picked up.

She imagined something… anything… in her mind… and a pair of familiar purple hooded eyes stared back at her… with beautiful features and lips so enticing.

She felt hot, even as moans escaped her quietly with pleasure.

Who did they belong to?

The eyes that seemed so focused and clear in her mind, and those lips… for the first time… Lyarra wanted to feel those lips against hers.

She subconsciously let out a loud moan and shudder, only for the face to become clear in her imagination.

Aegon… aegon… aegon…

Her mind gasped out in ecstacy.

Wait…

Her eyes snapped back open.

AEGON!

She let out a gasp as she immediately sat back up in bed, removing her slick hand from between her legs and shifting, slightly weak and breathing a little too hard, cheeks red as she suddenly realized.

She had been thinking of the prince!

Oh gods!!

Lyarra you salacious girl!

Now she wouldn't be able to look the prince in the eye for weeks!

She slumped back in her bed, a disturbed look on her face that didn't stop the unwanted excitement of the night.

---

Varys' Chambers.

The Master of Whisperers glanced down at the letter bed just received from his dear friend Illyrio.

Most of it was unimportant to him, but the last sentence… it brought excitement to his very bones.

She is ready and has been groomed to understand the severity of our goals, old friend.

She will let no one stand in her way of becoming Queen. Do not worry, she is as vicious as could be.

Prepare for her arrival before the first moon is gone.

While he was mildly concerned with his old friend's boasting of her viciousness, perhaps it would help her.

King's Landing was a cruel and harsh place after all. And even though she is a Magister's daughter and so therefore, noble in a way, some may still watch and look for negatives on her person.

It didn't matter though.

His grin widened as he threw the letter in the burning fires and relaxed into his chair.

His promise was slowly coming into fruition.

You shall get your wish, dearest sister. No matter who I have to remove.

He watched the letter burn into nothingness and ash.

---

So that's it. Lyarra and Aegon are… getting closer, I should say. I think we can see some sparks in there, as little as it seems, lol. But not everyone is obviously happy about it.

Poor Garlan. Handsome he may be, but he doesn't seem to know how to talk with a woman, lol. I personally think he's an awkward youngster with how he grew up.

And how about that talk in the king's solar? tion squiring under Aegon? only time will tell, really.

And Lyarra! You dog, you! Getting your groove on with Aegon in mind! What would your Lord Father say?!

Acting like a proper Dornish is what Oberyn would say though.

What did you all think of the feast?

And the Dragon dream?

Once again, not all ships are finalized. Just because they seem to have chemistry doesnt mean they will ever be a thing. only Willas/rhaenys and Aegon/Lyarraare finalized at the moment here.

NEXT CHAPTER, people returning back to their homes, the realm back to normal. Well as normal as could be. Some Tyrells staying back of course. Aegon and Lyarra growing even closer and a run in with a red priestess (not Melisandre) who has curious words to say.