Chapter 27. A Name-day To Remember.
The mind and the heart are what feel the blessings. The Blessings of a new age and what it brings... In all it's salaciousness!
6th moon. 297AC.
Summerhall.
The castle was filled with activities on this day.
Maids rushed to and fro as the skies brightened up for the new day.
Birds chittered where they sat on a balcony, singing sweet and high tunes which slowly woke the room's owner.
Lyarra sat up softly as she stretched and let out a yawn as blinked blearily, the sun filtering in making her wince a little.
"Your grace?"
Missandei's soft voice called as she walked into the bedchambers, a smile across her beautiful face.
"Happy name day."
Lyarra paused, looking at the bright sunrays for a moment before she smiled.
She was 17 today.
"Thank you, Missandei. Where is Wylla? I would have thought she of all people would be here, singing away at how wonderful today must be."
Missandei quirked her lips slightly as she pushed the soft elegant curtains aside and the room brightened further making Lyarra sigh slightly as she moved off her bed.
"Lady Wylla is off planning something. What it is, I do not know."
Lyarra gave her friend a suspicious look where she stood but Missandei's face betrayed nothing as clapped twice and three maid servants walked in with jugs of hot water and sanitary items. They curtseyed in front of their prince's betrothed.
"Morning, My Lady."
Lyarra absentmindedly nodded as they headed straight for her bath chamber before she spoke up again.
"I do hope no celebrations today. I've gone by without need for it and I do not intend to start."
"Lady Mopatis' father apparently used to throw parties for his daughter's name day celebration every year."
Lyarra gave her a wry smile.
"That is the Last Mopatis. I am Lyarra if the North. We only celebrated milestones and not common frugalities. We'd rather just gift parcels to our loved ones and have a wonderful dinner together and that'd be all."
Missandei shook her head with a small smile.
"From what I remember of Naath, your grace… on days like these, we would even invite our neighbors and friends to celebrate with us regardless."
"That sounds wonderful. And I've told you to call me Lyarra when we're at least alone."
The silvery blonde sighed with fond exasperation as the maids excused themselves and Lyarra prepared to head for her bath while Missandei nodded.
"Of course, your grace."
Lyarra said nothing while smiling. It sometimes felt like Missandei was making a jest in such situations like this. It was nice to see her like this.
"Thank you Missandei."
Lyarra smiled at herself in the mirror, twirling slightly. She was in a silky light cream gown of Dornish make and so a little less covering, with a slightly low neckline and back though it fell almost form fittingly to her feet without exposing any other parts except her slender and pale arms.
"I didn't know this was one of my commissioned dresses."
Missandei smiles in satisfaction.
"I made sure to commission dresses with a mix of your Northern and Dornish heritage as well as the styles that are more familiar at court under the Queen."
Lyarra nodded absentmindedly as she brushes her hands through the soft and silky material. Fit for the Dornish weathers and though Summerhall was not chilly, it usually was in the mornings. But Lyarra was of the North just as much as she was of Dorne.
The cold never bothered her anyways.
"It is lovely. Where am I breaking my fast?"
"The prince would love to invite you to do that, if you will?"
Lyarra stifled a snort.
As if she'd say no.
The duo walked out heading towards their destination with Lady Brienne stationed dutifully behind Lyarra who greeted her with a smile after being the Lady of Tarth wished a good name day.
Brienne may be 2 years older than Lyarra but sometimes it looked much more than that with the way the taller woman acted.
Missandei led her somewhere familiar though she'd not been into the place before.
She side eyed the other girl who it kept a smile on her face as they stopped in front of the door a smirking Gendry guarded.
"Good morning, Lady Dayne. The prince awaits."
With a thankful nod, Lyarra walked into the prince's personal apartment, looking around with curious eyes.
The sitting room was large and open and more of a mix of Targaryen and Martell colors. The fireplace was lit, emitting warmth and a golden glow.
It rather reminded her of Reeva and Aegarax. The dragons were growing even more and we're the size of grown hounds with Reeva even larger than that. They would give Ghost a run for his money very soon from the fast pace she was noticing.
She noticed the balcony had a set table with food already laid down and her stomach rumbled slightly even as she walked over.
"Boo!"
"Argh!"
Lyarra jumped, making a move for her faithful dagger only to be twirled up in the air, a familiar burst of laughter from her 'attacker' and she breathes in and out, slightly irritated.
"You scare too easily."
"Put me down, berk!"
She commanded with a slap across the head and he chuckled as he placed her back on her feet, his wide smile and glittering eyes calming much of her anger as he stared down at her, fingers brushing the silky material of her dress while occasionally brushing her bare back, making her shiver slightly.
"Happy name day, Lyarra."
Lyarra smiled, brushing her hand through his silvery hair so beautiful.
"My thanks. Though you just tried to kill me."
Aegon chuckled.
"If I hadn't been faster, you'd have stabbed me!"
Lyarra shrugged unconcerned as she extracted herself from his arms, moving towards her seat.
"You would have learnt then."
Aegon stared at her in fond exasperation even as he helped her sit.
"You are something else, Lyarra Dayne."
Lyarra smiled impishly.
"So you say."
As Aegon sat down, his eyes focused on the object of his affection, looking as beautiful as ever even as she began to pack some food on her plate.
Beneath the table, he playfully teased her legs with his, a playful smirk appearing on his face when she did the same albeit shyly.
The North.
Winterfell.
"Nooo!!!"
Ned ignored the howling cries of Rickon as his Lady wife tried to feed their rowdy youngest some greens and the boy took it as another morning betrayal by his mother.
Said boy's face was red and puffed up where he sat, muscles tightened and looking about ready to call upon his equally wild wolf to whisk him away by creating a diversion.
Ned knew Greywind and Summer would not allow that and so the equally loud howling coming from outside the feast hall probably came from Shaggydog.
'What a name…'
The Lord of Winterfell sighed internally, only to wince at Rickon's loud wails once more and Arya glared at her youngest brother while Sansa tried to do as her mother was doing, bringing a smile across Ned's face.
"Please Rickon. This will help you grow big and strong. Don't you want to be like Robb?"
The 14 name day old girl coaxed Rickon who turned red eyes at a puffed up Robb.
"NOOO!!!"
Robb's shoulders slumped in dismay while Bran snickered quietly while sneakily feeding the growing raven in his lap.
Sansa's face turned red at her brother's abrupt announcement even as Rickon turned away from his offending family members and looked towards the only one who had apparently not angered him yet.
"Sweets! Ned!"
Ned stifled a smile even as Catelyn chided Rickon.
"He is your father, address him as such."
As if the young 5 name days old boy did not pick the name from Catelyn herself.
He decided to step in though. Never let it be said that he spoilt any of his children after all.
"Listen to your mother son. Eat your food or Shaggydog will not be allowed out of the kennels today."
Rickon glared at his father, mouth opened to scream only to stop at the intense look in his father's eyes and he sniffles, using his hand to clean his tears and snot and turning a wounded look on his mother whose heart softened slightly even as she fed him.
Ahh… the joys of motherhood indeed.
Ned turned to his oldest.
"Prepare for our meeting after your lessons with Luwin, son."
Robb nodded absentmindedly as he discussed something with Arya who brightened up.
"Of course, father."
His son would be turning 17 in the coming moon. He had been a man far longer in the eyes of the world, but he was still Ned's little boy. All his children were still his… even Lyarra who was betrothed.
He smiled softly.
It was her name day today.
He wondered what she was up to. Name days were not usually a big thing in the North, though of course Lords would throw small feasts to celebrate. And though he had not been able to do the same for Lyarra, the day still held meaning for him.
He smiled, wondering when his gift for her would reach Summerhall. It had been sent through a ship leaving White Harbor about a week past.
The Stormlands were not cold like the North, but they were not as hot as King's and or even the Reach and so he hoped she would appreciate the rather luxurious and lustrous northern furs and materials he'd had sent to her.
It amused Catelyn most times when many thought Sansa's eye for good fashion came from her, and she teased him all the time for his good eye, as she called it. He grunted slightly as he stood up, pressing a kiss on her forehead and ignoring the look of disgust on Bran and Arya's faces.
Sitting down in his Solar, Ned went through some documents that needed his attention.
A letter came just the previous day from Lord Alastair Dayne on the information of Lyarra's dowry.
Lyarra's situation was a peculiar one in the sense of her being a Stark with a Dayne last name.
Alastair Dayne had volunteered to pay Lyarra's dowry as her mother's dowry had never been touched.
Ned rubbed at his chest lightly before shaking his head and banishing past thoughts and dreams.
He was happy with his life after all.
But his honor would never let him stand by while Lyarra wedded and nothing came from the North.
His honor and love for her would not sit aside. And though the money he had set aside for her since her birth was nothing compared to that of Sansa and Arya, nor was it anywhere near what Alastair Dayne was ready to put down, but he would still provide for her no matter what.
It was a secret between him, Luwin, Benjen and Lyanna.
As much as he loved his wife, he knew how she became when Lyarra was brought into the conversation. Things had changed a bit when he arrived home and spoke with her on Lyarra's impending nuptials to the Prince. He knew Sansa had been interested in him, but even Ned was not blind to the Prince's affections for Lyarra though it pained him to see it.
No man enjoyed his daughters attention being taken. And though he was not going to deny his lack of relationship with Lyarra and it would forever haunt him, it would not change his love for her.
Looking up at the knock on his door, he cleared his throat.
"Come in."
He slid the letter from Alastair Dayne between other letters as Catelyn walked in with a smile on her beautiful face.
"Ned. I have something to discuss with you."
"Does it have something to do with Rickon? For if it does, then apologies, I cannot help you tame a wild wolf."
Catelyn huffed though there was a small smirk across her lips as she sat down.
"When Arya was his age she wasn't even as wild and loud as he was! However will he be when he is Robb's age!"
Ned stifled a shudder, hoping not to get a repeat of his own elder brother.
Though, from what he remembered, even Brandon was not as loud and wild as Rickon.
"Perhaps we'll have an hungry wolf in the North once more."
He japed and Catelyn gave him a look before speaking up.
"In any case, Rickon is not the reason I am here. Rather it is Sansa."
Ned immediately sat up, concern on his face.
"Sansa? Is she well?"
"She is. Do not worry yourself, Ned. It is only on the matter of betrothals."
A frown appeared on his face which Catelyn noticed and she huffed slightly.
"She is 14, Ned. At this age, my father began looking for eligible men on my behalf."
"I thought we decided on when she turned 15."
Catelyn smiled wryly.
"Which she will be in the next year. It is not as far away as you believe. Let us begin communications with someone of good standing before he is taken away!"
Catelyn frowned almost bitterly, the memory of her daughter crying over the prince settling at the forefront of her mind.
Ned must have suspected what she was thinking as he sighed, shifting the conversation away from that.
"And what about Robb? He will be 17 soon. Shouldn't we focus on him first?"
"I already accepted the fact that my son will wed a Northern Lady, Ned. He is to be future Lord Paramount and I believe he should at least have a say in that decision. There will be time for that. But Sansa is a woman—"
Ned grunted.
"—and as such, this is the time to begin our search. Just because she is 14 now does not mean she will stay that way for long. If all the good and true men are taken, then who will you want for our daughter?"
Ned Stark looked at his wife closely.
"You mean Southern matches."
"Sansa will be happier in the South. She is not as hard as her siblings. She is all softness and sweet."
"Just as you were, and yet look at you, Cat. A great lady of the North."
Catelyn smiled fondly at her husband, shaking her head at his attempt to speak sweetly.
"Thank you. But I would still love for Sansa to have a Southern match. She will be happier there. Perhaps start correspondence with Jon Arryn's widow. I have thought about the other kingdoms and the sons are of younger ages and Jon Baratheon is too close in relation to be thought of as a suitor."
Ned nodded.
They were not Targaryens after all.
"I know how much you miss the Vale. And I believe the Vale lords will welcome a Stark bride for Jasper Arryn. I have not heard as much as I can about him what with the North being the way it is."
She threw him a jesting smile.
"And besides, the Lady Arryn would be a better way to gain information on the young Lord as she is his regent."
Ned nodded at the good reasons his wife brought. He himself was rather surprised the young Arryn hadn't taken over from his mother at his age of 17. Perhaps he was taking his time. It was a good thing of course. He remembered the Lady Arryn and she was someone who would not take nonsense from her son.
Perhaps his wife spoke true after all. Who better than to entrust his daughter to in that slippery South than to those he knew would and could protect her.
And besides… he looked at his wife. He knew there was another reason she was asking for a Vale match.
Perhaps she hoped to finally get in touch with her sister once more. Ned hid a grimace. That whole issue had been something he did not care to involve himself in. But he knew she still missed Lysa Tully. Or was it even Tully? Her family name was bigger than Baelish, yes… but his good-father had been quite thorough in his decision of her losing the Tully name and prestige after all.
Ned sighed once he noticed his wife's expectant look.
"Very well. I will write a letter to Lady Arryn for early inquiries. Nothing more though."
He added even as his wife beamed at him, standing from her seat and moving to place a thankful kiss on his lips.
"That is all I ask, Ned. Thank you. I will inform Sansa after her needlework lessons with the Septa."
She excused herself with a smile still across her face.
As the door closed, Ned's face settled into a dejected frown. Another of his daughters?
At least Arya was still 11. It would take at least another 2 years or so for his Lady wife to bring up matters of her own betrothal. Though he didn't think Arya would wish for a Southern match. Or any match at all.
He chuckled slightly.
As for Robb, he really needed to start searching for a bride. And a Northern one at that.
Perhaps a letter to the Northern Lords inviting them under the guise of a feast celebrating a future Northern princess, after all, the numerous letters he'd gotten from them ever since the revelation had almost filled his table.
Hmm… yes… a good idea indeed.
Summerhall.
"How sweet! Dinner with the prince under the night skies!"
Wylla gushed that late afternoon even as she and Missandei browsed through a trio of dresses laid on Lyarra's bed. All made of silk. Dornish silk and Myrish silk. One a light pink, a light sky blue and a simple silvery one that made Lyarra think of bridal wears. They were all of similar fashion make with empire waistlines.
"By the end of the night the Prince will be even more enamored by you!"
The 15 name days old gushed as she lifted the sky blue dress and twirled with it.
"You should wear this one! Or maybe the pink! Perks of our Northern skin is how pale we look. Of course it doesn't help us with the sun and heat."
The yellow haired grunted as she skidded to a stop even as Missandei returned the silver dress and Lyarra smiled.
"The sun and heat do not bother me."
Wylla sniffed.
"We can't all have Dornish mothers. It's in your blood. Also! Do you not think it would be rather unfortunate if an Unburnt gets burned by the sun or dislikes the heat?"
Wylla snickered as she flopped on Lyarra's giant bed.
"Perhaps I should arrange a Dornish match for you."
The silvery blonde japes as she playfully yanked the sky blue dress from her younger friend's hand and Missandei began helping her into it.
"Please don't. I like the Dornish but they are way too forward for me."
"I think you would like it in Dorne though. Do you not like freedom? You talk about it anytime your grandfather or father mention matches for you and your sister."
Wylla shrugged.
"Yes but that freedom is too much for me."
She waved off and Missandei giggled quietly while Lyarra huffed fondly.
"You are quite a contradiction."
Wylla smiled before a rather sly smile grew across her scheming face.
"So… Lyarra… it's been over a week now since we arrived and you and the prince have more private time together…"
Lyarra felt her cheeks turn red at the implying look on Wylla's face.
"What does that even mean?"
Wylla huffed at needing to spell it out.
"Well, it is like those ladies said in the bathhouse! Testing him and all that—"
"Wylla!"
Lyarra cried out, rubbing at her forehead while trying not to look embarrassed even as Missandei's giggled increased and Wylla's stubborn look stayed.
"Well who else can tell me what those ladies truly meant by testing out. Certainly not my sister. She can be a prude. And if I send such a letter to my Lady mother… she'd send back for me!"
She shivered at such a thought while Lyarra was led to her vanity by Missandei who began styling her hair.
"Well perhaps there is a reason you do not know what it means. You are but 15 after all. And unmarried."
"You seem to know what it means!"
Wylla gasped out, eyes bright and Lyarra looked away from the girl through the mirror.
She might know some things… but it didn't mean she knew everything. Only growing up in Winterfell and her frequent visits to town and spending it with some of the older market ladies had given her some ideas… it was after all how she learnt to… to touch herself.
She looked down trying to brush her thoughts away but Wylla didn't seem to be done yet.
"Don't worry, if you and the prince do test each other out tonight—"
"Wylla!"
"—I won't tell. Missandei certainly wouldn't, right?"
An amused Missandei cleared her throat and nodded
"I am only loyal to my Lady."
Lyarra groaned.
"Ugh. Not you too!"
And yet… her mind could not leave the conversation, as the thought laid siege to her mind for the remainder of the evening.
"You look beautiful."
Aegon complimented his betrothed as helped her to her seat under the slowly brightening moonlight of the early evening.
"Thank you."
Lyarra shivered slightly as he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her neck and a smile grew across his face as he moved to seat opposite her, ignoring her halfhearted glare.
"Stop that."
"Stop what?"
"Don't be a child."
Aegon chuckled as servants arrived from a turn of the green maze where they had their dinner under the golden and darkening skies.
"I can't help myself. You are tempting."
Lyarra stifled a grin as she looked down at the goblet of Myrish wine that had been served for her in a fancy glass cup.
"This looks nice."
She commented as she held it and Aegon nodded.
"Indeed. Made in Myr, as all Hugh quality glasswares. Of course, there's discussions between the major glassmakers of Myr with Dorne. My uncle hopes to establish a booming glass industry in Dorne."
Lyarra perked up at that, interest in her eyes.
"Oh? They'd become one of the major glassmakers for Westeros!"
"Indeed. Apparently Dorne is perfect for the making of glasswares. It's abundance of sand, lack of close proximity with the Dothraki and warring factions as well as sellsword companies."
Well, Lyarra certainly could not deny all those advantages. It would certainly bring richness to Dorne as well.
Perhaps something could be done for the North too?
She might not live there anymore, but it was the home she'd always known. The home her siblings lived.
"Perhaps we could visit Dorne after our time here?"
Aegon absentmindedly suggested as he ate and Lyarra let out a subconscious gasp much to his amusement.
"Please. I would love for us to."
See the home of her mother?! Perhaps… Perhaps even visit her resting place??
What else could she ask for??
She stretched a hand across the table and Aegon subconsciously held onto it without so much as a thought, their fingers brushing lightly before interlocking.
"How could I say no?"
He smiled wryly, holding her hand towards his lips and kissing her knuckles.
"Thank you… Egg."
The prince's face changed slightly as he tilted his head with an innocent look on his face and Lyarra snickered playfully.
"Egg?"
He gave her a look and Lyarra smirked.
"Just a letter I got from Rhaenys. Telling me all about how you wouldn't answer to anything other than Egg as a toddler."
For the first time ever, Lyarra watched in fascination as Aegon bowed in embarrassment even with a smile on his face as he ran his other hand through his long silver hair, and her breath caught at how beautiful he looked under the darkening night skies.
"Just what is my sister filling your head with? And when did you both start sending letters to each other?"
"During our journey here. She's told me very… fascinating things."
She playfully hit his leg beneath the clothed table and he laughed
"Like what? Don't believe anything she says."
Lyarra smiled impishly as he tried to trap her legs between his but she was faster.
"I think I will."
He let out a small bark of laughter.
"Very well then. Perhaps your brother was telling the truth about some things you did as a child then."
Lyarra frowned.
"Wh…"
"I obviously did not want to believe him. But perhaps I should—"
"You exchange letters with Robb??"
He smiled smugly and Lyarra frowned deeply, her Stark look becoming prominent as she whispered to the side.
"That traitor…"
She looked up at the still smug Aegon.
"Others take you…"
Aegon chuckled before a flash went through his mind as he suddenly remembered his previous dream and she shook his head slightly, snapping himself out of his short reverie as he felt Lyarra's legs intermingled with his beneath the table as they moved together and he grinned.
"The skies look beautiful tonight."
Was all he said before putting his utensil down, getting to his feet much to the slight surprise of his betrothed as he nudged her to her feet as well.
"I'm still eating."
"I think you'll love this more."
Was all he said as he twirled her into his arms, her back against his chest as he turned her away from him.
She looked around confused.
"The maze looks… wonderful."
He chuckled quietly before raising a hand to nudge her chin towards the skies.
"I remember how much you loved the Yi Ti fireworks for the New Year, and so I thought to being them here for you."
And just like that, a loud noise exploded into the skies, startling Lyarra before it exploded into thousands of colorful lights.
From reds, to orange, purple, blue, gold… all so beautiful against the now dark skies and Aegon wrapped his hands around her waist as she felt her eyes widen in awe at the beauty of the sky.
"It's beautiful…"
Argon smiled, trailing kisses up and down her neck.
"Anything for you…"
He bit down softly and Lyarra felt her eyes close as she bit down on her lip to fight down a moan even as she held tightly to his hands still on her waist.
A sigh escaped as he flattened his hand against her stomach, the flimsy silk material feeling like water where he touched her. Her legs felt weak and the heat between them certainly did not help matters.
"Aegon…"
She whispered quietly and he turned her in his arms.
"Can I continue?"
Lyarra stifled a disbelieving huff as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, bringing him down for a heated kiss.
Down in the village of Summertown, many stopped on the roads, looked out bars, shops and their homes in awe at the explosive beauty in the sky.
They had never seen such magic before and suspected it to be in honor of the future Princess of Summerhall's name day.
Children gasped and shrieked in awe while adults oohed and aahed in confusion and amazement.
Later that night…
Lyarra stared at her herself through the mirror as she prepared for bed. Missandei brushed her luscious hair and hummed slightly to herself, a look of serenity on her face.
Lyarra sighed softly, deep in thought as she played with the rather wooly silk robe wrapped around her nude body, having just got out of the bath.
"You look troubled, my lady."
Missandei finally spoke up and 5he silvery blonde ticked her tongue.
"Missandei, you are very well my closest friend… why will you not call me Lyarra? Even now?"
Missandei said nothing, only smiling at Lyarra's reflect through the mirror before focusing back on her work and the Northerner sighed, knowing a lost cause as usual.
"I'm not… troubled. I just… I enjoyed my time with Aegon, but I… it felt like something more could have happened."
She mumbled the last part mostly to herself and Missandei nodded with a knowing look.
"You and the prince do have a strong connection that many notice just at first glance. And the prince certainly does not hide his feelings for you either. Perhaps you should not feel ashamed for your desires of him as well."
Lyarra swallowed down her embarrassment as she fiddled with the ropes of her robe.
Perhaps she wasn't as embarrassed, but sometimes she did remember the Septa complaining about the evils of carnal desires and how it led to bastards.
Of course, as Lyarra grew up and mixed with the small folk, she got to understand it was normal.
It was plain desire. And it was human. After all, however did she learn to… please herself.
She coughed, trying to stop the blush across her cheeks and Missandei giggled as she dropped the hair brush on the vanity table and Lyarra threw her a half hearted glare at the Summer Islander.
Before she could say anything though, there was a knock on her main entrance door and Missandei excused herself to attend.
It was probably Wylla.
Lyarra got up, untying her robe as she walked over to her bed where her night dress laid when her bedroom door opened and she spoke up.
"Was it Wylla again?"
Lyarra rolled her eyes with a smile, opening her robe and turning to Missandei only to pale even further for it was not Missandei.
It was Aegon who stood before her in the slight dimness of her room.
It wasn't bright, but she could see much of his silhouette where he stood ready for bed and his eyes dangerously on her half nude body.
A startled gasp caught in her throat as she turned away from him in embarrassment as she tied her robe tightly, looking down and staying quiet.
What was she to do?
Demand he leave her room?
Scream in anger?!
Because she didn't want either of those things. Try as she might, she couldn't deny that she wanted him next to her.
"Lyarra…"
She jumped slightly as his voice came from right behind her just as he held her in his arms and she shivered slightly, cheeks burning red.
"I had no idea you were—"
"Shh…"
He whispered, his face leaning down next to hers.
"Do you want me to leave?"
He questioned, and Lyarra turned to him immediately, eyes settling on his dark eyes that looked at every fiber of her being with hunger and she felt her legs shake slightly.
"Don't. I want you here. With me."
She confessed for the first time and Aegon let out a shuddering breath as he looked at her.
"You look divine."
She smiled softly.
"In a simple robe?"
He quirked his lips.
"Especially without it. I don't think I can go back to sleep now."
He added and Lyarra's cheek felt permanently red making him chuckle as he brushed her hair out of her face.
"Your mother would not like you here in my room. Especially like this…"
She then hesitated though her fingers tightened against his sleep wear.
"We shouldn't…"
He stopped her, leaning down and placing a peck on her lips.
"Perhaps it will be your chastity in question. But I swear to you, I will not take it this night. Our wedding night will be special for you and I."
Lyarra smiled, a little confused and disappointed.
"Then why—"
His smile deepened into a smirk.
"Your chastity. Nothing else."
Lyarra blinked… and then she understood.
Just her chastity. No one said they couldn't enjoy each other however else.
And just liked that, she undid her robe, letting it fall and pool at her feet.
She ignored the intake of breath from her betrothed as she turned, climbing into her bed and laying in it, turning to him as her heartbeat quickened and she crossed her legs slightly as she felt slickness between them.
And then Aegon snapped out of it, eagerly unbuttoning his nightshirt and pulling it off, his lean muscles straining in the dim light of the room. His chest rippling and his waist muscles attracting Lyarra's attention, until he undid his trouser and let it fall.
Lyarra's eyes widened slightly as she saw just what men hid beneath their trousers for the first time in her life.
She blushed deeply, looking away out of nervousness and a little bit of shame and Aegon chuckled shamelessly, before he climbed into the bed, crawling over almost like a predator.
His hand caressing her feet as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. And then, he leaned down, pressing a kiss and making her toes curl at the feeling of his lips on her.
He grinned, moving his lips up her calf, and then to her knees… up her ties and then… he moved to hold her left hand, placing a kiss on her fingers and making her sigh once more…
In disappointment though she would not admit it to herself.
He moved until he was over her, and Lyarra, in a moment of primal urge, grasped him closer to herself and they both hissed as their bodies felt each other for the first time without obstruction.
Aegon hummed as he caressed her cheek and they stared at each other.
He was no stranger to the pleasures of the flesh, but with Lyarra… it felt like he was learning for the first time. Everything felt new… felt like hotness and fire as his stiffness grew beneath him and Lyarra's mouth opened in slight surprise as she felt it against her legs.
The prince of Summerhall leaned down, placing kisses on her collarbone… down to the crevice of her soft and pale breasts that drew Aegon's attention.
And then Lyarra gasped as his lips took her nipple and his hot tongue licked at it.
A moan escaped her lips as his hand brushed against the other and she shivered even further at the building up feeling between her legs. It felt like she was touching herself but this… It felt better with Aegon.
"Aegon…"
She called out softly, and he leaned forward, taking her lips this time, the kiss much more sensual and softer than usual.
Lyarra sighed as she surrendered to him and he did the same, her hands wrapping around his torso and her legs subconsciously wrapping around his waist as their sex felt each other for the first time.
It felt so good… so much… so amazing! As they curled and moved against each other… their bodies intertwined in want, need, love…
The feeling building even further as Aegon whispered sweet nothings into her ears, their hands traveling across their bare bodies as if to memorize every part.
His lips dipping to her neck and biting down with a moan which made her moan out in return, both uncaring of the sounds they made into the night.
They both wanted so much and it reflected in their souls. An emotion so desperate and beautiful it seared itself in the night skies… as if both were trying to pass a message across with their administrations on their bodies.
And as he moved his waist against hers, his hand dipped, down her belly, and then between her legs and then…
Oh…
Lyarra cried out in ecstasy and Aegon laid his forehead against hers as he wished to give her more… to cry out his name properly… but today was not that day, and he was more than okay with that.
For now.
Their body heat so perfect for each other as they moved in harmony and Lyarra felt a familiar and foreign feeling in her tummy as she grasped his shoulders tightly, crying into his neck as she shuddered and slackened in satisfaction.
Aegon sighed at the sight as he moved still against her, a shudder going through him as well and he felt himself release again the sheets of the bed.
With a sigh, he held her, turning so he laid against the bed and she against himself, slightly sweat on their bodies but not so bad as to warrant them moving.
"Lyarra…"
Aegon whispered like a fevered dream, over and over and over into the night.
With passion.
And Love.
Dreamscape.
Lyarra opened her eyes to darkness.
Darkness that continued for miles and miles and nothing she could see.
"Mother of Dragons."
She turned almost immediately, rearing for an attack, only to pause at the familiar face though her heartbeat stayed quickened.
"Quaithe of Asshai. Why have you brought me here again?"
Quaithe said nothing, staring at her for a moment too long as Lyarra grew angry.
"You have changed. Good. But I a here to warn you, not bring rhymes."
The silvery blonde narrowed her eyes.
"Warn me about what? Why?"
"About the sorrows of men… what it could do to them, and how it could lead to others suffering. Especially if they believe the one they are going after deserves it."
A confused Lyarra scoffed.
"You brought me no rhyme but a riddle."
She sighed emptily before raising her head again.
"What else?"
Quaithe turned her head, looking as if she was staring… North.
"The air is changing. It becomes corrupted with unnatural cold and darkness. A Kraken also seeks what is yours. Do beware. I cannot tell you further."
"And you cannot tell me in a straightforward way?"
Quaithe shook her head almost sadly behind her mask.
"This is the only way I can be of use, else I break an oath set thousands of years in the making. Be careful."
Dreamscape over.
The Westerlands.
Casterly Rock.
Father,
Summerhall cannot be done justice over letter. It is beautiful, and dare I say it, even more than Casterly Rock.
The prince treats me well still. He is as amazing as everyone says. The best knight one could squire for. Of course his way of training leaves me unable to do much except sleep, but I believe I a building up stamina with all the running and training with the men at arms. I believe he will take up training me very soon now. It would be an honor.
Lady Dayne is very kind. She has the sweetest voice and uses a sword too. Can you even imagine? Of course she isn't the only one. Her newest Sworn shield is a maid who is shaped like a man. She is rather quiet and from Tarth. She can hold her own against many of the men too, even the prince is impressed with her. I hope to impress him one day.
Enough about me. How are mother and Joanna? Is all well? Hearing news on Casterly Rock is difficult this far into the Stormlands.
Send letters to me please.
Your son,
Tion Lannister.
Heir to Casterly Rock.
Tyrion finished reading out loud in his Solar where his wife Tysha sat with an eager smile and their daughter Joanna sighed wistfully.
"Can I pay a visit to Tion, father? He seems awfully homesick."
Joanna put on a sad face and Tyrion raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.
"That face has never worked on me before."
As soon as he said that, the 12 name days old girl huffed and Tysha snorted, unconcerned with how it would have looked if other nobles had heard her.
"I'm glad Tion is being treated well. Still, are you sure he would not have been better as a squire for your uncle?"
Tyrion stifled a sigh.
He loved Tysha, and that was why he took her as a wife, regardless of her status as a commoner and it did give him and his children a reputation.
She might be Lady of Casterly Rock, but she had never fully settled into the noble life, try as he and his aunt might.
She didn't really understand why Tion had to leave the West and squire for the prince when his uncle Kevan was perfectly capable of doing that.
She didn't really understand the problems he had with the Westerlords either, assuring him they would come to love him later on.
As if it were that easy.
He smiled sardonically.
But before he could reply her, there was a knock on his door as Joanna moved to stand by the large window behind his chair and stare out into the lands of Casterly Rock below.
"Come in."
The Maester arrived, bowing in respect.
"My Lord, my Lady… and urgent letter just arrived from Lannisport."
Tyrion sat up slightly as he took the letter and opened it, reading the message from Kevan.
As he did though, he paled slightly, his fingers curling tightly against the parchment as he read through it all.
"Is everything alright, Tyrion?"
At the sound of his beloved wife's voice, he swallowed, slamming the letter down against his desk in anger.
Joanna jumped a little, moving away from the window and looking at her father in concern.
"Father?"
Tyrion turned to his daughter.
"Excuse your mother and I, Joanna. We have much to discuss."
The normally upbeat girl normally would have whined at the unfairness of it all, but she made no noise at the look in her father's eyes and quickly did as she was told.
"Tyrion. What is it?"
Tysha was now on her feet and Tyrion sighed.
"Something has happened. A few days back, Oxcross was attacked."
"…what?"
"Razed to the ground. No one survived."
Tysha's heart wrenching and keening wail broke his heart as she mourned the loss of her town, friends and family.
And that's it!
Lyarra is 17! And well… her relationship with Aegon has certainly moved… further.
I didn't want her to just have sex, it would have been sudden. And certainly not her character.
But I did want her and Aegon to have a great sex life. It has to start from somewhere. And I want their wedding night to be good and not awkward and scary for Lyarra. Aegon has experience so he's going to ensure his betrothed enjoys all there is to have in marriage, lol. What did you guys think??
Anyways, Ned's POV and Catelyn's talk about Sansa. It seems things are already moving forward. It was bound to happen anyways. Poor Ned, lmao! Also poor Rickon! He doesn't like vegetables! And he doesn't want to be like Robb!!!(poor Robb, lmao!)
Quaithe came with her warnings too. What do you all think about that?
And it seems news has reached Tyrion about Oxcross. Poor Tysha.
NEXT CHAPTER, Tyrion visits the scene of the crime and realizes the wind of war might be blowing. Joffrey visits a brothel while thinking of his latest obsession. Edmure disgraces his family while Aegon writes to his father about his dreams.