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.

21. The Wedding

Chapter 21. The wedding.

"The highest happiness on earth is the happiness of marriage."

—William Lyon Phelps

3rd Month. 297AC.

Red Keep.

Lyarra watched, eagerly waiting for a sign of anyone from the North arriving.

In a few days, Princess Rhaenys' wedding would be happening, and with it, the congregation of nobles from all the Seven Kingdoms and even from Essos.

Arrivals from far and wide. Lyarra had watched from afar as a number of people traveled with gifts for the union of Rhaenys Targaryen and Willas Tyrell.

As advised, Lyarra had kept to her apartments whenever the nobles flooded the Red Keep. Apparently they did that quite a lot as of late, mostly in search of the dragons. Whatever the King and his Hand were saying to keep them from wagging their tongues was working for the time being.

It was only a matter of time though…

Aegon's name day had been a week ago. He had kept his stance on not celebrating it, preferring to let his sister enjoy her wedding preparations instead.

Lyarra found that she didn't mind. Enjoying his company a lot more than before, especially now that she had 'surrendered to his arms' as he called it. The clotpole.

A smile grew across her face.

And of course, there was Wylla Manderly. She had spent a couple of time around the girl who had also finally seen the dragons. Suffice to say the girl fell in love with them and had been asking for an invite to see them ever since. A very chatty girl. And then the Sand Snakes. Obara had taken to sparring with her once more, and Lyarra didn't mind. It was better to harm herself now more than ever. Her past experience was enough to leave her wary.

Her cousin Jon and his Lord Father had arrived the previous day as well. Her aunt, Lyanna had volunteered to stay back with Steffon so as to rule in Lord Robert's stead. They themselves had been in awe of the dragons. Until the onyx one had taken to stumbling after Jon across the room, hoping to take a bite out of the heir to the Stormlands. It had been rather funny to watch, but Lyarra had stopped the dragon from going too far. It was already obvious to her that that dragon was the wilder one, and quite possibly a male dragon.

As of now, no one could tell their gender, until they reached their one year count, but it was so obvious.

The diamond scaled dragon was the calmer one, and seemed a bit larger than the other one too, but Aegon had explained to her that it meant the dragon had hatched first. Apparently dragons who hatch first among their nest mates are always generally bigger and the recognized alphas of their group. It was no wonder why the onyx dragon usually followed it.

Speaking of, she really needed to name them. She'd be a fool not to notice their colors and how it seemed to replicate the colors of House Dayne and House Targaryen.

Perhaps naming one in remembrance of her mother would be lovely.

She smiled softly at such a thought.

"Lyarra."

The silvery blonde turned to her uncle next to her who pointed out, and she turned to stare across the courtyard, a smile building across her face as a retinue of horsemen rode towards them. At the front, her Lord Father, and next to him, around familiar faces, was her brother, Robb.

He looked different yet the same, his red hair slightly unruly from riding, dressed in light Northern garb and fur.

Jon snorted where he stood next to her.

"Is he trying to impress Northern ladies? The git."

Lyarra's grin increased as they came to a stop and Robb swung himself off his horse.

Her feet moving on its own as she practically flung herself into the arms of her awaiting brother.

"Robb!!!"

He let out a laugh so familiar to her that something bubbled in her throat and tears struggled to stay in.

"Lyarra! Look at you."

He stepped back to look at her, a big grin across his face.

"Wow… I almost couldn't recognize you. You're like a Southron now. Well, except for the touch of north on your outfit."

Lyarra scoffed, bringing him into a hug again.

"Ned!!"

Robert roared out in glee as he moved towards his friend, lifting him slightly, and Ned grunted slightly, though a small smile appeared on his face.

"Good to see you again, Robert."

"You as well Ned! You've been like a hermit in the North! I didn't expect to see you here. Well… I should have expected it, what with your daughter."

He added and Ned's eyes immediately roamed around, stopping slightly at Arthur who threw him a nod which he reciprocated. He then glanced around and stopped to see his eldest two hugging each other tightly, and a feeling settled in his heart as the two laughed and the Jon Baratheon cut in, saying something to his son, making the redheaded boy laugh out as the two hugged and slapped each other on their backs.

It warmed his heart to see all three of them so close after all the time spent apart.

Lyarra must have felt someone's eyes on her as she immediately turned, and Ned was almost taken aback by how she looked.

Perhaps it was the fact that he hadn't seen her in over 3 moons, but looking at her now, she reminded him so much of her mother, Ashara. And yet, so different. She held herself differently. Her shoulders were also held up, unlike how they seemed to droop back in Winterfell.

Perhaps… perhaps he had made a good decision after all.

He walked over and met her halfway, a small smile subconsciously appearing on his face.

"Lyarra."

She curtseyed.

"Lord Father."

"You look…"

He paused, struggling to find the words as Lyarra's breath caught in anticipation.

"You look happy."

He placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing fondly and Lyarra nodded slightly, looking down for a second, taking a deep breath as she blinked tears away, before looking back at him.

"You look well, Lord Father. How are my other siblings?"

Ned smiled.

"They are well. Arya and Bran miss you. Rickon asks for more sweets as he grows."

Lyarra couldn't stop her smile at the mention of little Rickon. She'd have to send chocolates with Robb for him and the others when it was time for him to leave.

The lack of mention for Sansa wasn't as surprising as it would have been for others. But Lyarra still wished her well though.

"Come Ned! Let us take you to the king!"

Robert roared out as he walked over with a smile and Ned looked away from his daughter.

"Now?"

He frowned slightly and Robert snorted.

"It really has been long since you came to King's Landing, has it not?"

Ned shrugged slightly.

"It has. It doesn't smell of piss and shit."

Robert laughed out at that as Arthur led them into the Keep.

Lyarra walking in between her brother and cousin.

"So when can I see the dragons?"

Robb finally spoke up, blue eyes shining and Jon and Lyarra exchanged amused looks.

"Mayhap tomorrow after you have all settled. Where are you and father staying?"

"Lord Manderly volunteered but we're staying with cousin Jon and Uncle Robert at their Manse."

Jon grinned.

"I think we all know why Lord Manderly volunteered. Probably trying to introduce you to his daughter."

Robb wrinkled his nose at that.

"Wylla is the younger one, yes? I remember her. She almost reminds me of Arya in attitude."

Lyarra snorted.

"I thought the same as well."

"Ahhh… Arya. How I miss her."

Jon grinned fondly and Robb chuckled.

"You should fear her though. She might have been young, but she remembers which of her cousins pushed her into the cold stream."

Jon smiled impishly before quieting down as they entered the throne room where the King say on the Iron Throne in all his glory as he spoke to his Hand.

Robb's jaw dropped as he finally saw the famed Iron Throne for the first time in his life.

It was so large with steps leading down and the thousands of swords it was made with making it look fearsome.

"By the old gods…"

He breathed out and Lyarra grinned. She herself had felt the same. But her eyes were not focused on the throne, but rather someone else who stood next to the Hand and had noticed the people walking over.

His eyes strayed over to Lyarra's and the purple gems glittered slightly, making Lyarra's heartbeat quicken.

She cleared her throat, looking away with a small smile as the King looked up.

"Your grace."

The Lord Paramount of the North knelt in greeting, everyone doing the same as well.

"Please, rise. Welcome to King's and, Lord Stark."

"Thank you, your grace."

Ned stood back up, face slightly blank of emotions even as the King spoke once more.

"We have a lot to discuss, Lord Stark. I think you know that."

The King's eyes went towards Lyarra for a second and back to Ned who stiffened slightly.

"Of course, your grace."

"We will meet after the wedding."

Ned nodded once more, taking it as a send off, and together, the party all turned to leave, Arthur still with his niece.

Once outside, Robert spoke up.

"Come Ned, let us get you settled, ey?"

Ned turned towards his daughter.

"I will come visit you tomorrow."

Lyarra gave him a nod.

"Of course."

The Lord Paramount stared at his daughter a bit longer. He should say something but—

"It would be nice to see Ghost again. Grey Wind has missed him."

Robb cut in as he smiled at his sister and Lyarra perked up at that.

"Where is Grey Wind?"

"He is with the men. I think he was very curious. This is a new place after all."

Lyarra hummed.

"And the weather?"

She smirked at the rueful look on Robb's face.

"Abominable."

Jon snorted at that as he walked over.

"Not as bad as the North, in my opinion."

Robb rolled his eyes.

"I would choose the snows to this deathly feel against my skin."

Ned's lips quirked upwards for a second before he cleared his throat.

"We will leave now."

He turned towards Arthur.

"Ser Arthur. My thanks once more, for looking after Lyarra."

Arthur nodded rather briskly.

"It was no issue. She is my niece after all."

---

"Are you well, Lyarra?"

Arthur spoke as he escorted Lyarra back to Maegor's Holdfast and she turned to him.

"Of course. Seeing Robb again… I really missed him a lot. Old gods and the new, he looks different."

Arthur grinned.

"Oh?"

"Indeed! He's grown a little taller and a small scar on his hand that I haven't seen before. His voice seemed lower too."

Arthur chuckled.

"To him, you must be different as well."

Lyarra snorts.

"I don't feel different in any way."

"Are you quite sure, niece? You have integrated yourself in the lifestyle of the South. Though of course your Northern self still overshadows it all. You have settled. And need I remind you, dragons?"

Lyarra chuckled.

"Ah, of course. However could I forget my children?"

Her eyes sparkled as she said that. Seeing as the nickname Mother of Dragons seemed to have stuck for the time being, Lyarra had embraced it rather than shy away from it. And it wasn't like the Dragons weren't acting like she was their mother. Very demanding, the little pests. But she enjoyed being around them as much as she did, Ghost.

"In any case, I am glad to see you happy. Perhaps after the wedding, we can continue our sparring? Your improvement with Obara is a good one. It would be a shame to let all that swordsmanship die away."

Lyarra grinned thankfully.

Perhaps it was her run-in with Aelora's men that had made her this way, but her eagerness to continue with the sword, even after her spars with Obara, let her know that deep down, she didn't want to be easily taken out ever again.

"I look forward to it then."

Arthur then cleared his throat.

"I have been meaning to discuss this with you… but is there anything going on between you and the prince?"

Lyarra's eyes widened for a millisecond and she quickly looked away from Arthur's inquisitive and suspicious looking face as they got closer to her apartments.

"Going on? Whatever do you mean, Uncle?"

She feigned a laugh that sounded even fake to her ears, wincing slightly.

"Oh dear…"

Arthur sighed and Lyarra immediately turned towards him, eyes wide.

"I-It's not what it sounds like!"

Arthur huffed.

"The fact that you said that, means exactly what it sounds like. I—"

"Don't be mad."

The silvery blonde cut him off, moving to stand in front of him and stopping his movement, pleading eyes on him.

"It might be unexpected, but he is a dear friend to me. He has always been there. A companion by my side through it all. It just happened suddenly. Believe me, I can't imagine it myself."

Arthur stared at the earnest look in his niece's eyes and he sighed, letting out an amused chuckle as he brushed her hair.

"So much like your mother."

A wistful look appeared across his face before he shook his head, snapping out of the past.

"Calm yourself, Lyarra. I am not angry with you. Aegon is a good man. I watched him as he was raised by his mother and father. I trained him to be the knight that he is. I know who he is, inside and out… and I wouldn't trust anyone else with you."

Lyarra's jaw dropped slightly and Arthur chuckled.

"What were you expecting?"

She stumbled slightly.

"I do not know. Some shouting? Chiding about grasping too much for my station?"

Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Grasping too—"

He scoffed.

"Lyarra, anyone would be lucky to have you. I want you to know that, never look down on yourself. You are spectacular."

He promised her as a grin grew across her face and she threw herself into his arms, eliciting a small huff from the older man before he chuckled, wrapping his arms around her in return.

"I love you, Uncle Arthur."

Arthur's eyes stung at that and he blinked desperately, letting out a small sniffle.

"Love you too, niece."

Lyarra paused, stepping back as she watched Arthur struggle not to let out some tears and amusement filled her.

"Are you… crying?"

"Crying?! What nonsense. There is dust in the air."

He looked away, cleaning his eyes and avoiding her face and Lyarra let out a small bark of laughter, making Arthur huff.

"Away with you now."

He shooed her away and she back walked away from him.

"Of course, uncle. I'll leave you to your feelings."

She ran off before he could do anything.

Arthur watched his niece and she jogged off with a bell like laugh, and he could stop his smile.

She was happy.

That was good.

That was what mattered.

Besides, who else would be trust with his niece?

He wouldn't lie and say a long time ago, before Rhaegar had married Elia, he had hoped to bring his sister to the Keep. Who else's hands would be put the safety of his sister in?

But of course, it wasn't meant to be. He didn't know how things would have changed if that happened, and he wasn't willing to look back and be stuck in the past.

Now though, perhaps things would be better. And besides, Lyarra had dragons at her beck and call!

His dear friend Rhaegar would be a fool to let such out of the grasps of his family.

He chuckled amusedly before a stern look appeared on his face as he decided to search out Aegon.

Just for a spar of course.

---

As Lyarra entered her apartment, she was immediately swept off her feet by Aegon as he kisses her softly and almost with desperate need, something she eagerly reciprocated back as she wrapped her hands over his shoulders, fingers running through Aegon's hair.

His tongue slowly gaining entrance into her mouth and she gasped softly at the feeling as she got lightheaded for a second, grasping Aegon tightly for balance as he held her on her waist and his other hand on the nape of her neck, tilts her head up towards him.

He hummed in satisfaction, placing soft airy kisses on her jaw and down her neck and she shivered.

"I missed you…"

He whispered softly and Lyarra smiled softly.

Over the weeks, they had basked in whatever opportunity they had to spend with each other. With Aegon's duties as prince warring against his free time, especially now that he had nobles to attend to, and then there was Lyarra's slight inability to move as freely as she would have liked.

Things between them had been more heated as time went by, and perhaps to some it would have been concerning, but to the two lovebirds, they were perfectly happy and more than eager to return their advances towards each other, Aegon most especially.

"We saw each other yesterday."

The silvery blonde girl pointed out and Aegon paused, leaning back to look at her and she internally mourned his lips on her.

"Are you sure? It felt quite like an eternity ago."

Lyarra snorts, tightening her hands around his shoulders as he tightened his grip on her waist.

"No, I'm quite sure. Except you're loosing your memory."

Aegon chuckled.

"Well, if I'm loosing my memory, we will have to do a number of things to bring them back."

Lyarra's grin chuckled.

"Oh? How about a trip out of the Red Keep?"

Her eyes brightened at the thought of them sneaking into town once more like they used to before the whole dragon issue.

Aegon raised an eyebrow at that.

"I'm sure you know my answer to that."

Lyarra sniffed.

"It's been very stifling here, Aegon. I haven't been able to go wherever I want anymore. I'm only allowed to go to designated parts of the castle out of the fear of running into visiting nobles."

She moved to remove her hands and step back, but Aegon didn't give her the chance as he tugged her even closer, both staring into each other's eyes.

"Lyarra… this is only a one time thing. Once the wedding is over, I can guarantee you'll have more time to yourself. Let's take care of you, hm? You more than deserve it."

He pecked her lips and her eyes fluttered close for a second as he smiled down at her, eyes roaming her face as he took in the beauty before him.

"You better not look at me like this in public, Aegon. Mouths would go wagging."

Aegon chuckled, eyes as mischievous as usual.

"And why would I care?"

Lyarra threw an exasperated look at him.

"Do not jest! What we're doing… it's awfully bigger than the both of us. Even Arthur knows."

Aegon's eyes brightened in surprise.

"Oh? Well it matters not to me. You are all that matters. I like my world better when I'm with you. Do not run away from me, Lyarra. I'll chase you… if I have to. And do not worry yourself about wagging tongues… we'll take on the world together if we have to. You're not alone. I promise you that."

He vowed as he looked at her so intensely, Lyarra couldn't stop her cheeks from turning red.

Sometimes, the things he said to her… she had no idea why he felt so at ease saying things like that without expecting her to be flustered, and so, she lightly punched him in the guts and let let out a small huff without letting go of her.

"Are you sure you were not a mummer in your last life?"

Aegon chuckled, grin wide and beautiful and Lyarra's breath caught.

"Well if I was, then I am glad. It is certainly helping me out with a certain lady."

He puffed up dramatically before giving her a look, eyes going dark.

"I'm serious, Lyarra. If you run from me, I'll give chase…"

He said lowly and Lyarra bit her lip softly.

"And then when I do catch you… it will be breathtaking…"

He placed a kiss down her throat and she sighed softly, basking in the moment… until shrieks and thuds from her inner room startled both of them out of their reverie.

They both paused, not saying a thing… perhaps hoping the distraction would be gone quickly, but the shrieks got louder.

Lyarra closed her eyes with a small sigh while Aegon let out a groan.

"If they weren't endangered I'd throw them out the Red Keep."

Lyarra let out an involuntary laugh, leaning her forehead into the crook of his neck as she tried to reign in her amusement.

"Well… duties first."

She said mostly to herself as she playfully pushed Aegon off and he sniffed.

"I found you first…"

He petulantly said as Lyarra opened her door and the onyx dragon practically toddled out, jaw widened and out for Aegon's blood.

The prince's eyes widened in surprise as he raised a leg out of the way of the incoming baby dragon and they watched as it tumbled over its wings.

"What the—"

The dragon got to it's feet once more, letting out a poor excuse for a roar, smoke gathering around its jaws as it raised it's wings threateningly and went after Aegon once more.

"Why?!"

The Prince yelped slightly as he jumped out of the way, but the dragon continued to attack it's prey while Lyarra laughed behind her dainty fingers.

She blinked slightly, looking down to see the diamond scaled dragon where it rubbed it's head on her leg fondly and she smiled, crouching to pet the dragon.

"You are the magnificent one, aren't you?"

The dragon made a noise that vibrated from it's belly, tongue lolling slightly as it's eyes moved towards it's nest mate who had grown tired of hunting down it's moving feast as it toddled towards Lyarra and head-butted her, wanting her attention too.

Ghost toddled into the room, letting out a yawn and stretch while Aegon glanced at the onyx dragon exasperatedly.

"It's been out for my head for a while now. Can dragons be jealous?"

Lyarra chuckled.

"Weren't you complaining about them just now? And you are a Targaryen too, a human dragon… so…"

She smirked and Aegon let out a small huff and laugh.

"I just know that dragon will be wild as it grows."

Lyarra ignored him, petting said dragon.

"Don't listen to him. You're perfect just the way you are. Oh, yes you are. Yes you are!"

She chattered in baby language and Aegon stared for a second, before turning towards Ghost who had claimed his spot by the fireplace.

"You're the only one who understands me, Ghost."

Ghost let out a wide yawn and went back to sleep.

---

"Such magnificent creatures…"

Alastair Dayne mumbled quietly as they watched the napping dragons cuddled in the fireplace.

Lyarra had ensured the dragons were well fed and asleep before her kin came to visit, out of worry in case the dragons decided to attack. They might be young, but they were very territorial… and were developing rather sharp fangs.

Her Lord Uncle had arrived not long ago and with him, Her Lord Father and brother had come to visit her.

"What do they eat?"

Robb questioned where he crouched next to the fire, eyes wide in awe as he studied everything he could about the little creatures. Perhaps he prepared for the demand Arya and Bran would have. Lyarra stifled a small smile at that.

"Burnt meats and sometimes milk. They seem to enjoy the smell and hotness of fires in everything they do."

Ned glanced from the dragons to Lyarra before he spoke up.

"Have you always known about your affinity for fire?"

Even Lord Dayne looked up at that.

Like Arthur, he was a tall man with a lithe build. Hair a light blonde and eyes as purple as his siblings and sons. He had a firm face but once could still see the laugh lines. He looked like an older version of Arthur though with broader shoulders and a couple of rings on his fingers.

Lyarra looked at her father for a second before settling back into her seat.

"Like I told the king, I only ever realized not too long ago. I've always enjoyed hotter things, much more than other would, but I never expected to be able to withstand fire."

Alastair Dayne hummed.

"It is said that Targaryens have some affinity for hotter things as well. After all, how else would they have been comfortable enough to ride dragons. Their skin said to be scalding, especially when breathing out fire."

"You mentioned the King?"

Her father frowned slightly and Lyarra nods.

"He had some questions."

His frown deepened, something Alastair noted as he snorted rather derisively.

"You didn't expect him to want answers? Especially from the source?"

Ned stared back at the other man.

"I expected him to respect her as a ward."

Alastair scoffed.

"He is the King. An explosion occurred and my niece was involved. And out she came, with dragons in her arms, and you expected him to have no questions?"

Ned's eyes narrowed tightly, even as Robb straightened back up, moving to sit next to his sister, grabbing a hand in his and clearing his throat.

"In any case, we are here now, are we not? The King has also requested our time after the wedding. Perhaps you may air your imagined offenses at him."

Alastair waved his hand, and Lyarra idly wondered if all Dornish lived to frustrate others. Perhaps the hotness of Dorne really did give them looser tongues after all.

Robb though, ignored the two Lords and grinned at her.

"So dragons."

Lyarra grinned back.

"Dragons."

"And you walked out of fire? Bare?"

A teasing look shined in his eyes and the other girl huffed, slapping at his bicep.

"Do shut up. I haven't stopped sparring."

Robb stifled a groan.

"Do not remind me, Lya. You live amongst legends here. Ser Barristan and Ser Arthur Dayne! Let's not forget the other members of the Kingsguard who fought in the war of the Mad King."

Lyarra smirked.

"And then there's the Sand Snakes. The oldest one. She spars with me at any chance. I reckon she could throw you on your arse if she wanted to."

Robb rolled his eyes.

"You underestimate me. I've been training as much as you. Though of course, Theon is still the better archer. He hasn't let anyone live it down too."

Lyarra perked up slightly at that.

Theon.

It had certainly been a while since she'd thought of him. Not purposely though, a number of things had just taken her attention.

"And how is the ironborn?"

Robb shrugged, a small smirk on his lips.

"Being a shit as usual. He was rather moody when you left though… I had wondered for a second, that is until he went back to his usual whoring ways. That redhead of his."

Lyarra snorted. She still remembered when he had sort her out, that time in the godswood. The kiss he had placed on her forehead. How flustered she had been. She still didn't know what to think about it yet, but that was the past.

Someone else had taken to doing that already.

Her heartbeat picked up slightly before she shook her head.

"And you? Taken to following him?"

Robb snorted.

"As if father would allow such a thing. Apparently, as heir to Winterfell, such things should be beneath me."

The silvery blonde smirked at the pout on her brother's face.

Before she could jape with him though, her door was knocked on and a voice called out.

"Prince Aegon to see the Lady Lyarra!"

Lyarra sat up straight at that, even as her father and uncle turned to the door, getting to their feet, Robb right behind as the door was opened.

The prince had a polite smile on his beautiful face as he walked in.

"Prince Aegon."

Lord Dayne bowed as due the prince's station, Lord Stark and Robb doing the same as Lyarra slowly got to her feet.

"Lord Dayne, a pleasure to see you again. You as well, Lord Stark."

He then turned towards Robb who bowed slightly though with a friendly enough smile. The two having seemingly bonded during their travel to the wall.

"Prince Aegon."

"Lord Robb."

They grasped each other's hands before pulling back and the prince finally focused on Lyarra.

"Lady Lyarra."

"Ae—Your grace."

She curtseyed a little and a small smile grew across Aegon's lips at her stutter.

Ned's eyes narrowed slightly as he stared at the two of them, hands clenching slightly I'm distrust while Alastair had a contemplative look on his face as he seemingly nodded to himself.

"Your grace, we had not expected your presence."

Lord Stark finally spoke up, grey intense eyes on the 18 name days old and Aegon internally wondered if perhaps this was where Lyarra had gotten her intense look from.

"I hadn't planned on being here either, Lord Stark. But it was only respectful to see you all. And you, Robb Stark."

He turned to the slightly startled heir.

"Perhaps you would be up to joining me for a spar on the morrow?"

Robb's eyes brightened in interest.

"Of course, your grace."

He then turned to his sister.

"Will you be there?"

Lyarra opened her mouth but Aegon beat her to it.

"Of course she will be there! My cousin would be angered otherwise."

He threw a wink at Lyarra, making Ned's eyes narrow even further and the silvery blonde girl even more flustered as she caught eyes with her confused brother.

"Well, it would certainly be good to spar with you again, sister."

Lyarra nodded but said nothing though she did spot a rather impish smile across the prince's face before it was gone.

He straightened back up.

"A pleasure meeting you all once again."

And he was off.

It was quiet for a moment, and as Lyarra settled back down, quietly hoping to get back in conversation with her brother, her Lord Uncle spoke up.

"Lyarra, you and the prince seem rather welcoming with each other."

He smiled politely while her Lord Father's nose flared for a second.

Robb frowned.

"Welcoming?"

"Oh he's been very polite and friendly, nothing more."

She tried assuring everyone and as Robb opened his mouth, she jumped to her feet.

"Ah! Where are my manners? Drinks are needed—"

"No need—"

"Hold on!"

---

The following morning, Lyarra found herself at the sparring yard with Obara who scowled slightly as their swords clashed once more.

"What is your problem?"

Lyarra blinked, startled.

"Me?"

"You seem out of it. I could have had you on your ass now three times. Maybe I suppose stop playing nice."

"Wait what—Argh!"

The silvery blonde groaned slightly where she sat on the ground, Obara staring down with something akin to amusement while Lyarra frowned.

"Put your head in the spar, Dayne. Or I'll find another way to drive my message across."

She threatened and Lyarra knew the old girl wasn't joking. Obara was like a slavery in the training yard. Of course she'd never let the girl know she thought that way.

"Help me up?"

Obara sniffed but helped her back to her feet, and Lyarra cracked her neck with a small grimace. They had been at it for a while now and she was beginning to feel some pain in her calf and arms. Not to say she didn't appreciate the practice. It definitely helped her a lot, and she'd also noticed slight changes in her muscle buildups.

"Lyarra!"

Said girl turned with a small smile, only to stop in slight surprise as not just Robb and Jon made their way over, but the prince as well, with Ser Gendry behind him.

"Robb, Jon. I was wondering if you both decided not to spar anymore."

She teased the two before glancing at the smiling prince in his practice garb, eyes right on her and she turned back to her brother who rolled his eyes at her jest.

"I have to know whether or not you're keeping up. Can go back to Winterfell without getting such important information."

Jon chuckled as he threw a nod at Obara who was making her way to her cousin.

"Aegon. Spar with me."

She grunted out and Aegon snorted though he grabbed a blunt sword.

"You could add a please in there, perhaps?"

Obara smirked.

"Are you going to cry about it?"

Aegon huffed, a small pout appearing on his face as he mumbled beneath his breath.

"I told you to stop calling me a baby."

Ser Gendry and Lyarra snorted in unison, though both had eyes on the spar taking place in front of each other.

It was fast. Both of them had different styles, in fact, one could tell Obara favored the spear with the way she fought with the sword, while Aegon seemed to have a more offensive style as he laid strike upon strike upon strike on Obara who blocked it as easily as she would if she fought with a spear, though one could see the spear would have been a better weapon for her.

Robb whistled lowly where he stood next to her.

"This is how Southerners fight? Not bad at all."

Jon grinned.

"Indeed. We don't hit each other until one falls to the ground. We fight with finesse."

Robb and Lyarra snorted at that.

"Keep telling yourself that, Stormlander."

Robb hissed and Jon huffed out a laugh, twirling a blunt sword in hand.

"Would you like to test that out then, Northerner?"

Robb turned to Lyarra who he was supposed to spar, but his sister only smiled, motioning him towards their cousin.

"Go easy on him, Robb."

"Hey!"

Robb laughed out as he marched towards Jon.

Lyarra then turned towards Gendry.

"I would ask you to spar but then again you'd probably decline."

Gendry grinned his shit eating grin at a slightly annoyed Lyarra.

"You haven't even asked me yet."

"Will you?"

"No."

She gave him the finger and he snickered.

Just then, the spar between Aegon and Obara was over, with Aegon winning though Obara didn't feel offended.

Lyarra clapped politely and Aegons smile grew as he walked over to her.

"You never did give me your favor."

Lyarra stifled a smile, eyes glancing towards her sparing cousins as Obara focused on the two.

"You never asked for it."

Aegon chuckled.

"Very well then. Would you join me for a spar?"

"Hm… I don't know. What would people think if they saw the prince sparring with the Mother of Dragons?"

Aegon chuckled lowly, raising a hand to push strands of her hair out of her face and Lyarra quickly glanced around, giving him a look which he ignored.

"I'm not going to hide my feelings for you, Lyarra. Now come spar with me, if you want to of course."

He backed towards the middle and Lyarra breathed out, biting her lips slightly as she struggled to stop the smile on her lips.

Gendry snorted where he stood and she turned to him.

"If you think for a moment that you've both been secretive with your feelings, then perhaps pigs really do fly in the North."

Lyarra gave him a wan smile before tightening her hold on her blunt sword and joining Aegon who twirled his sword.

"I was beginning to believe my Mother of Dragons was a craven."

Her eyes narrowed at that, adopting the grim Stark look on her long face even as she heard Robb whoop excitedly, having won his spar with Jon.

"I am no craven, you clotpole."

Aegon chuckled.

"Well then, show me what you've got."

They met halfway, swords clashing against each other, their face close as Aegon's eyes lowered to her lips.

"You're beautiful."

He whispered and Lyarra's face grew red in embarrassment and anger as she used her body weight to push him away.

"Don't distract me!"

She almost stomped her feet on the ground and Aegon's smile grew sly as they circled each other.

"Then do something about it."

Lyarra gritted her teeth but said nothing as she moved to attack him and he parried the hit, moving to attack her and she twirled out of the way.

They continued back and forth for a little while, both lost in their own world, Aegon's smile growing and eyes shining and Lyarra's realization that Aegon was leagues above her. It was to be expected, with the years of training he had under his belt as squire to her uncle as well as the kingsguards around and not to forget his uncle, the Red Viper.

If she wanted to win, she'd have to throw him off.

Besides, if he was going to tease her, what was stopping her from doing the same too?

The next time their swords met, Lyarra leaned up closer than she normally would, whispering in his ear.

"You're really good…"

She whispered, lips brushing the tip of his ear and caressing and Aegon froze for a second, eyes going wide in surprise.

And a second was what she needed as she immediately performed a feint and hit to his stomach with her feet. He let out a startled huff as he fell and in the process, took her down with him. Lyarra let out a sharp gasp as she fell on him, head first in his chest as they both pushed their swords away from each other.

She let out a small huff before raising her head to see him smiling at her.

"Your Dornish side is showing… my my, how dare you seduce me. Trying to take my virtues?"

Lyarra's cheeks turned red but she didn't hide away from the challenge in his eyes as she smiled back at him.

"And what if I am?"

Aegon's mouth fell open at her declaration and she chuckled, sitting up on him, not hearing the choked gasp coming from Robb or the look Jon was giving the two.

"I won anyways."

She smiled impishly and Aegon breathed out.

"You are something else, Lyarra Dayne."

"You tell me that all the time."

"It doesn't change the fact that I speak the truth."

Lyarra's stomach fluttered.

"Um…"

Said girl's head snapped towards their audience and she stifled a groan at the frown on Robb's face, quickly getting off of the prince who got to his feet as well even as Obara walked over.

"Good job, Lyarra. Using whatever you can to win is fair. As for you, Aegon. You disappoint me."

The prince let out a laugh of disbelief.

"Obara!"

Said Snake ignored him while Robb's frown deepened and Lyarra idly wondered what he was thinking.

Before he could say anything though, another voice from behind got their attention.

"Well that was a thrilling fight."

Nymeria smiled seductively where she stood.

"I was almost… drenched."

Lyarra stifled a groan of embarrassment while Jon let out a loud bark of laughter and Aegon chuckled.

As for Robb, his frown turned into that of confusion and Lyarra tittered quietly. Her poor innocent brother. It was but a matter of time before he too became like her. Shoved into the world of licentiousness unwillingly.

Nymeria's eyes lingered on him too, eyes alight with interest.

"And who is this?"

She walked over, hips swinging more than usual, and she was rewarded with Robb's interest as his eyes slid over her figure before he quickly looked back up at her face.

He cleared his throat, bowing slightly.

"Robb Stark, my lady."

"My lady?... My… Northerners really are easy on the eyes. First Lyarra and now… you…"

She purred slightly, running her fingers across Robb's chest as she leaned into his personal space and his mouth opened in slight awe.

Lyarra cleared her throat as desperately as she could while Jon and Aegon exchanged amused looks.

"Ah… my thanks… m-my—"

"Shh…"

Nymeria placed a finger on his lip, wetting hers in the process and Obara finally cut in, pushing her sister off of the heir to Winterfell.

"Out of the way, sister. He and I have to spar."

Nymeria glared at her unconcerned sister who glared at Robb whose eyes were still slightly glossed.

"You. Spar. Now."

He swallowed tightly before following after the other Snake, sneakily trying to adjust his significantly tighter breeches as Nymeria stared at him with a smirk.

Aegon turned to his cousin.

"Try not to hurt him. We still need a future Warden of the North."

"No promises."

Came her innocent answer, and Lyarra sighed.

Starks in the South really were a commodity, it would seem.

She watched her brother spar for a moment before Aegon playfully nudged her and as she looked up at him, he leaned down, whispering in her ear.

"I look forward to dancing with you at the feat on the morrow. Let the world talk."

The silvery blonde opened her mouth but she paused, seeing the look in the prince's eyes. He would do what he wanted. And she wasn't sure she wanted to stop him anyways.

Nearby, Nymeria pouted at Jon.

"He stole her from me."

Gendry snickered.

---

Day of Wedding.

Lyarra glanced at her gown of silvery Myrish material though with some fur down to the neck, making it resemble a Northern gown of southern make.

She'd had her bath already thanks to her temporary maid and now she waited for her to help with the gown and her hair. Usually she wouldn't mind doing such things by herself, but the gown itself was more complicated than her usual dresses, and as for her hair, she needed help putting pearls in them. Nearby, the Dragons screeched where they toddled around Ghost who looked to be on the verge of knocking the tiny beasts out. She stifled a smile.

A knock on her bedroom door snapped her out of her reverie.

"Come in."

She called out, and as the maid came in, Lyarra's jaw dropped at who stood in her room.

"Missandei??"

The Summer Islander smiled nervously as she curtseyed.

"Lady Lyarra."

Lyarra walked over to stand in front of her.

"Wh—How are you here?"

"The King granted me leave. I could go back home or I could stay in the sunset kingdoms."

"But… you're here now."

Missandei's smile widened tentatively.

"The Queen approached me a few days back, asking about my decision. I was sold as a slave, my brothers sold to become Unsullied. There is no other life for me, and if I go back, I might end up being sold again."

Lyarra's eyes narrowed at that.

"I'll make sure that doesn't happen. I know people, I could… I will help you. Aegon told me how you searched for him with Ghost. Thank you."

She breathed out and Missandei smiled.

"You have nothing to be grateful for, Lady Lyarra. You are… kind… different from many I have met. Queen Elia asked if I would prefer staying and I agreed only if I would serve you. As your handmaiden."

Lyarra blinked rapidly at that.

Handmaiden…

"Handmaiden??"

"I heard your maid servant died because of Lady Mopatis."

Lyarra swallowed down at that, nodding slightly and Missandei continued.

"I don't think I'll be able to fill her place, but I would be a companion and handmaiden. Be by your side. Aid you when needed. Speak on your behalf if you will let me. I know 19 languages, your grace. I could teach you some."

Lyarra perked up as she spoke before she frowned slightly.

"Your grace? Missandei, I am not to be addressed that way."

"Perhaps. But you are royalty in the eyes of many. A Mother of Dragons. An Unburnt. The breaker of my chains."

Lyarra's heart fluttered at that and she looked down for a moment before looking back up into Missandei's earnest eyes.

"If this is what you want… who am I to dissuade you. It'll be nice to have you around, Missandei."

Missandei's answering beam was everything and Lyarra couldn't stop her smile even as the Summer Islander's eyes slid over to the gown laid on Lyarra's bed.

"Let me help you."

She eagerly grabbed the dress in her hand and helped the slightly older girl into silvery gown and helping with the laces as Lyarra stood in front of her mirror, her smile softening as she stared at herself.

Nearby, the dragons toddled over, eyeing the intruder and Missandei nervously stared at them.

They may be young, but their fangs and claws were still strong enough to fear through human skin.

Lyarra noticed the nervous look and cleared her throat.

"It's okay. They won't harm you."

She crouched slightly, extending her fingers for the dragons to brush their heads on, their tiny horns shimmering.

"Māzīs."

She beckoned them over in Valyrian which they did with slight purrs vibrating in their throats.

She had taken to learning words attaining to her dragons, seeing as they seemingly understood Valyrian better than the common tongue. She still had a long way before she was fluent, but it was better to start from somewhere than nowhere.

Turning back to Missandei she smiled.

"They won't harm you."

Just then, the onyx dragon let out a shriek, raising it's wings in a warning at Missandei and Lyarra huffed, bopping it on its nose.

"Lykirī!"

She warned as it fell over cutely and the silvery dragon yelped a little before toddling forward towards Missandei, sniffing slightly.

The girl stood stiff straight as the dragon sniffed the air around her, tongue out and flicking the air before wandering back to her mother.

Lyarra smiled, looking over at her.

"See? As long as you're calm, they mean no harm. Besides…"

She stood back up as the onyx dragon stumbled towards Ghost who flicked it with his paw.

"Seeing as you'll be around for a long time, you'll see more of those three."

She smiled sardonically and Missandei glanced towards the three beasts and nodded slowly.

Lyarra knew it would take a while for the girl to get used to the dragons. As for Ghost, he trotted forward, nudging at Missandei who looked surprised.

"He must remember you."

Missandei glanced down before slowly but surely, placing a hand on his head and running her hand through his soft white fur.

"I should help you with your hair."

Lyarra patted her hair, a small smile on her face.

---

"Are you ready?"

Robb asked where he sat next to her in the carriage, glancing down at the dragons where they made screeches of protest at being carted about in a moving vehicle.

Opposite them, Wylla sat with eyes wide, legs raised up and away from the snapping jaws of the dragons while Jon crossed his legs with a rueful smile.

Lyarra shrugged as she patted her hair for a second and quickly removed her hand out of fear of spoiling the beaded design Missandei had so graciously fixed up for her.

"It was bound to happen. And what better way for the realm to realize dragons really do roam than at the wedding of a dragon herself?"

Rhaenys had been particularly excited at such a thought though she didn't actively show it.

The cheers of the common people resonated around the streets as Visenya's Hill was the focus of attention for the day.

The Great Sept of Barlow shone a few get away while cheers and songs continued as carriages filled with nobles and dignitaries from all over the seven kingdoms and even across.

The sun shone beautifully and there was no heavy cloud in sight.

Lyarra glanced out as the Sept grew near and she stared at the crowd in slight awe. They looked so happy as they waved and peered at whoever they could.

Some spotted her and eagerly waved. She wasn't even sure they knew who she was, they were just happy to see people they wouldn't usually see.

The carriage in front of their stopped and out came her Lord Father, Lord Baratheon and Lord Manderly who struggled slightly as he got down, the carriage shaking slightly as he did so.

The trio turned, watching their children and heirs climbed out their carriage. Jon coming out first, dressed in Baratheon colors with a yellow sash hanging from his shoulder to his waist and glittering in the sunlight. Robb was next, his red hair gaining him enough attention as he patted slightly at the long fur silver jacket, looking like noble first man. He looked as uncomfortable as his Lord Father looked as cheers from behind could be heard. Next came Wylla Manderly in a gown of southern make, billowing slightly in cloud blue coloring, her peculiar hair color gaining quite the look, something she happily relished in as she twirled happily, almost slapping Robb in the process and eliciting an amused snort from Jon.

And then Lyarra finally came out.

Perhaps her looks of old Valyria was enough to Garner stares and attention, but the fact that many whispered excitedly, remembering just who she was, got the crowd chattering in curiosity.

And then she turned, and they saw the little beasts in her arms and gasps filled the air. Many straining their necks to look over the heads and shoulders of their fellows, and in no time, the streets busted into rowdy cheers and boots.

"Look! It's her!"

"By the seven, it's real! It is not jape!"

"There she is!"

"The Mother of Dragons!"

"Mother of Dragons!"

"Mother of Dragons!"

"Mother of Dragons!"

Lyarra swallowed, a little surprised as people pointed and cheered further away from her as they stared at the shrieking beasts.

The onyx dragon craned it's neck, opening it's mouth and screeched, eliciting even more cheers.

The silvery blonde stared, startled at the attention even as gold cloaks tried to calm the crowd down.

A hand softly held onto her shoulder and she turned to see Robb staring almost in awe at the crowd.

"Come on. Let's get settled in."

He nodded towards the Sept and they both turned to see the others waiting. Lord Stark's face as grim as usual while Lord Baratheon had a look of amusement, much like his son.

"Very well then."

She mumbled under her breath, glancing down at the dragons in her arms. They were calm as they usually were whenever she held them.

The climb up the steps of the Sept took a little while, and at a point she looked behind to see some nobles climbing up, some with curious eyes once they spotted her.

That alone made her glad to be surrounded by family, that way no one approached out of respect for two Lord Paramounts whose men where watching their backs for any sign of approach.

"Wow…"

Robb let out, whistling slightly as they finally got to the large doors of the Sept.

"It's different from the Sept at Winterfell, isn't it?"

Lyarra smirked slightly and Robb snorted.

"I don't think any Sept could compare to this one."

Lyarra chuckled as they walked in.

"The Starry Sept in Old Town just might be better from what I've heard."

Her brother made a disbelieving noise as his head swiveled from one side to the other.

"I find that hard to believe."

"Will this be enough to convert you to the religion of the seven?"

Jon cut in humorously and Robb rolled his eyes.

"The Old Gods own my heart."

Jon chuckled.

"One thing I can say is that the Old gods are not as picky as the New Gods. So many things to do on their behalf."

"Isn't it just the Warrior you worship?"

Lyarra raised an eyebrow at the Heir to Storms End who shrugged.

"He's just my favorite."

The Stark siblings snorted before coming to a stop slightly once in the hall for the wedding.

The giant statues of the seven looking down at them all and Robb blinked.

It was almost as if the eyes of the New gods were on him, something he found as uncomfortable as the statues in the Winterfell Sept. No matter how much his mother urged him to give them a try, he found himself unable to so much as pray to them.

But he was not blind as to the feeling they inspired in him. There was no doubt that they were as real as his gods.

"Come on."

Jon urged the two as they followed the adults.

As Lyarra walked past, people stared at her, or rather yet the dragons with varying looks.

From awe to curiosity and even the occasional greed in the eyes of some beady looking men.

Much like everyone else, weapons had been left out as it was not allowed in, but at least she could throw a punch if one of those men came anywhere near her.

The Lords Paramount present for the wedding had private places for themselves and so Lyarra was sitter with her Lord Father and brother.

Ned Stark's grim face was more than enough to hold back people from coming anywhere near his brood, and the man reveled in it for the first time in a while.

Eyes wandering about, she spotted some more familiar faces. From her Lord Uncle to the Martells. The Ladies in waiting with their husbands or otherwise.

The Martells were dressed in traditional Dornish livery, colorful with the mix match of Martell colors. Oberyn stood tall amongst his brood, a sly grin on his face as his eyes roamed the large hall.

When he caught Lyarra's eyes, he sent a playful wink away and Lyarra smiled slightly before continuing her stares. Some openly pointing her way.

She was quite lucky the ceremony itself was no place for talking and mixing with the crowd. They were all there for the wedding and then after would be the feast, and by then, Lyarra would be allowed to take the dragons back to her apartment.

As more people entered, she spotted the Tyrell family arrive in all it's flair.

Mace Tyrell led the group with his wife in arms, the fat man's nose up in the air and eyes glittering like he had won a tournament. His garb glittered emerald and gold much like his wife who had a small smile of victory on her face.

Behind them was their son and the groom, Willas. His hair well styled, dressed in Tyrell colors and in one arm a beautiful cloak, glittering in the afternoon light, made of Tyrell colors, the gold embroidery on it shimmering and attracting the appreciative eyes of many. It was probably worth thousands of galleons of jewels and precious materials.

"Thank the gods Sansa isn't here. She would probably faint If she saw that cloak."

Robb whispered into Lyarra's ear and she snickered, softly patting at the dragons now dozing in her arms.

Behind Willas was the Lady Margaery Tyrell and Lady Olenna. Margaery had a demure smile on her face as she clasped her arms against her stomach, nail paint glittering green and lips well done with red paint. Her cream colored gown fluttering slightly and she looked absolutely beautiful, almost a bride in her own right.

Jon let out a soft sigh once he saw her and Lyarra leaned a little just so he'd know she was staring. Once he saw her, he threw her an embarrassed look before looking away and she snickered.

Behind the two ladies were Garlan Tyrell and another young man Lyarra had not seen before. He was tall like his brother and a little leaner than him, but Lyarra would admit he was even more beautiful than Ser Garlan though they shared the exact same coloring and curly hair. This young man's eyes though were more expressive, intense and brighter in color and his smile was what one could describe as dangerous.

This must be the other brother, Loras Tyrell.

"Hmpf! Who's the pansy?"

Robb muttered and Lyarra slapped a hand to her mouth, stifling a laugh.

"Are you jealous there are more good-looking men than you in the South?"

Robb rolled his eyes.

"I'm sure I can take him on."

"I hear he's one of the youngest knights. He became one at 16 name days and he's great with the lance."

Robb sniffed.

"The sword is all that matters."

"Don't let the Red Viper hear you say that."

Robb's eyes slid over to said man, gulping silently. He'd heard a lot about the man and even his father had warned against gaining his attention.

Feeling someone else's eyes on him, he stopped at the young lady next to the man, her hair glossier than the previous day and her gown an almost transparent color especially when caught in the sun.

Nymeria smiled coyly at the younger boy and sensually licked her lips, eliciting a soft cough from him as he quickly looked away, shifting slightly in his seat.

As for the Tyrells, as they settled in their seats, the High Septon gestured for Willas, his crystal crown reflecting light slightly and giving it a glow whenever he moved.

"Grandmama, look."

Margaery glanced discreetly at the Stark company and Olenna spotted what her granddaughter was looking at.

There, in the lap of the Dayne girl, were the dragons. Looking otherworldly and seemingly dozing away in her arms, their wings healthy looking and their scales bright like fire, Olenna hummed quietly to herself.

"They don't look like much."

She said drily and Margaery stifled a small smile.

"They will grow."

"Bah. They're still young. Anything could happen. Poison, bashing against stone, drowning, beheading. There are many ways the beasts could be taken out."

Margaery looked around discreetly.

"Perhaps we shouldn't be discussing that right now."

Olenna waved her off haphazardly.

"If there was wine here, I could be drinking."

Meanwhile, Garlan stared the lady whom he had been rather interested in for some time.

She looked beautiful in silver. And those dragons… it was no wonder she was called the Mother of Dragons.

He wasn't the only one openly or discreetly staring at her where she sat next to who could be her brother.

"Who are you staring at, brother?"

He jumped slightly, turning to see his brother searching the crowd and stopping at the Stark family, eyes brightening with slight glee and Garlan stifled a sigh.

"Ah yes, the Mother of Dragons. Did you know that is what they call her? I think it's a little problematic, but that is just my opinion."

The younger boy turned to his brother with a smirk.

"Margaery told me there might have been something between you two?"

Garlan glared.

"There wasn't—"

"Ahh… shame, don't you think? If you'd claimed her for yourself rather than being a prude, we would have had dragons in our House. And mayhaps our sweet sister would have still had a chance to snatch the prince for herself."

Garlan rolled his eyes.

"Your ability to spit out piss and shit surprises me sometimes."

Loras let out a laugh that attracted many a maiden who sighed wistfully at the knight.

"My, my… King's Landing has done wonders for your tongue."

He patted Garlan across his back before his eyes roamed around the hall, only to stop as he spotted Renly Baratheon sitting with the Baratheon family and his smirk softened into a playful smile once their eyes met, receiving a playful wink from the other man.

Not long after the Tyrell family arrived, the Targaryens entered.

Everyone got to their feet as the Queen walked in, in the arms of her son.

Both looked a vision in the Targaryen colors of red and black.

Elia Martell was dressed in a saree gown of elegant ruby red make with gold embroideries all over, a black saree wrapped over her shoulder also with gold embroideries. Her face glowing with a warm smile and her nose ring with a small ruby hung in a dainty gold chain to her ear. On her hands were beautiful golden bangles and her fingers adorned with a beautiful flowery henna design.

The prince looked as breathtaking as her, maybe even more due to his obvious Valyrian heritage.

His silvery hair swept out of his face and his purple eyes eye-catching and bright. He dressed in his house colors of red and black, a golden sash hung over his shoulders, and like the queen who had an elegant crown atop her head, he had on a circlet that sat comfortably over his head.

Lyarra breathed out softly as her eyes followed him. His soft and polite smile as some nodded and greeted him and his mother.

As the prince helped his mother to her seat, his eyes roamed around the hall, catching Lyarra's for the briefest of moments and that was enough to bring a soft smile on both of their faces even as Lyarra's heartbeat quickened a little.

The Queen mother, Rhaella Targaryen was accompanied by her own son who had a happy smile on his face as he whispered away at his mother who nodded fondly at her son.

And on the Prince of Dragonstone's shoulder, sat a creature that Lyarra had only read of in books. With silvery white fire and wide purple eyes, a Little Valyrian looked around curiously, meeting the eyes of other curious stares head on.

The species of Lemurs which could only be found in the forests of Qohor attracted a large amount of attention and Robb made a noise in his throat.

"What's that?"

He whispered and Jon was the one who answered.

"Those are Little Valyrians. Wonder how the prince got it. Then again, he is a lover of strange beasts. I wouldn't be surprised if he searches Lyarra out some time soon."

As soon as he said that, the prince glanced around the room, making eye contact with a surprised Lyarra.

Said prince had arrived the previous evening and so had been the only member of House Targaryen who hadn't seen the dragons yet.

His eyes brightened in glee and interest once he saw the slumbering creatures in her arms and raised a hand, waving at her.

Lyarra blinked twice, ignoring some murmurs and waved back at him with a slight smile.

He was an eccentric one, much like the Prince Oberyn.

As everyone settled back down, Robb leaned towards his sister once more.

"I heard Prince Viserys was dropped on the head by the mad king quite a number of times."

As soon as he said that, Lyarra hissed warningly at him, pinching his side and he let out a small help.

"Keep your hearsays to yourself, brother!"

Robb gave her a wounded look.

"By the old gods… one would think you didn't miss me at all."

"I didn't miss you one bit."

Robb scoffed disbelievingly.

"I missed Arya the most."

He rolled his eyes. Before he could say anything though, beautiful music began to play, resonating around the bright hall.

Soft harp music accentuated by lutes and flutes and soft humming soprano voices, all coming from above.

Everyone quieted immediately and the High Septon cleared his throat, arms spread wide.

"Rise."

He called out and everyone got to their feet once more, positioning towards the entrance.

They need not wait long though, as the King of Westeros arrived, and in his arms, his only daughter.

And Princess Rhaenys was a vision.

Her dress was made of an off-white Lyseni silk that made soft ripples as she moved, hugging parts of her body much more than the more traditional wedding dresses one usually saw in the seven kingdoms except perhaps in Dorne. Pearls dotted the dress and diamond glitters sat on her neatly styled hair, making it glitter in the afternoon sunlight.

Her maiden cloak was a beauty in the Targaryen colors. Made of rubies and onyx stones and looking quite heavy, but she wore it with grace, a small circlet on her head, representing her status as a Princess of the realm, her purple eyes glittering over the minimal face paint.

It was not only Willas Tyrell who found himself tongue tied as he watched his bride walk up the altar with her father.

The young man's heartbeat stuttering for a second and an involuntary smile growing across his face.

As the King and Princess came to a stop, Rhaegar turned to his daughter with a warm smile which she returned, and with a small nod, he removed the cloak from her shoulders.

Rhaenys then pressed a kiss on her father's cheek and he stepped back, going to take his place at his wife's side, the two exchanging fond looks before watching as the Tyrell cloak was placed around the shoulder of their daughter, the pale emerald colors glittering and the gold flower shining bright where it lay.

The High Septon gestured to the crowd once more.

"You may sit."

And everyone did.

The ceremony didn't take long as the High Septon said a small sermon about marriage and holy matrimony and how such was blessed by the mother and father and how their children would be blessed by the seven as they were made in their light.

Where she sat, Lyarra shifted a little but said nothing or made no face of discomfort.

"With this kiss, I pledge my love, and take you for my Lord and Husband."

"With this kiss, I pledge my live and take you for my Princess, my Lady and wife."

Rhaenys stifled a small smile of amusement at the little addition.

A couple of words more by the High Septon, and finally he smiled.

"One flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever."

And with that, the couple sealed their vows with a chaste kiss.

And it was over, with a polite applause from the witnesses.

The Queen smiled, trying to contain her tears while on the other side, Mace Tyrell blew into his handkerchief much to Olenna's exasperation.

"Quit your tears boy!"

She barked out only to be ignored by her son.

Loras though smirked, whistling at his eldest brother who stood, hands clasped with his bride as they glanced at their audience with smiles across their faces. The future of Highgarden and the Reach.

---

The Feast.

Mirrored Ballroom.

The evening breeze blew softly as music resonated the ballroom, people already mingling with each other and many more arriving, preparing to mingle and make themselves known and grasping for connections.

One such family was a group of beefy, weasel eyed group that stood gathered by the entrance around an old and weathered but still energetic looking man with a pinched and greedy face, about 15 men and young women who all looked like him listening to what he was saying.

"They're all ripe for picking. Many unwedded. Don't come back without betrothal contracts or you'll be thrown out of the crossing. Now spread out!"

He barked and his brood immediately skunk into the crowd, Walder Frey doing the same.

Meanwhile, Lyarra hung closely to her brother and cousin. The dragons had finally been returned to her room where Ghost and Grey Wind watched over them as well as a number of guards by the door.

She knew it was only a matter of time before she was hounded for a dance… or ten.

"Lyarra told me that's the love of your life, Jon."

Jon stifled a groan, turning to his cousin with a glare.

"She is not the love of my life."

Lyarra shrugged unconcerned.

"You've been giving her signals ever since the feast began, cousin. It's frankly becoming—"

"Oh? What about you? Mother of Dragons?"

Jon stared Lyarra down and she straightened up immediately.

"What are you trying to say?"

Jon stared a moment longer before a grin appeared across his face, almost smug in appearance, making him look like his father who was nearby pestering Ned about visiting Storms End on his way back North.

"Oh I'm just asking, dearest cousin. I thought you liked the color purple in a man."

The silvery blonde frowned, confused.

Purple in a—

Her eyes snapped back to Jon, an almost horrified look ok her face and the taller boy resisted the urge to laugh out loud while Robb glanced between the two, confused.

"What are you two going on about?"

"Oh just—Oof!"

The Baratheon heir bent slightly, holding onto his side as Lyarra drew back, giving her brother a sharp smile.

"Nothing to worry about, brother. Look, that girl over there seems to be eyeing you up."

She eagerly turned her brother's attention elsewhere while throwing Jon a glare which he returned.

"What girl?"

Robb whispered interestedly and Jon stifled a snort even as Lyarra described her.

Said girl in question was pretty, but compared to a number of other noble girls in the hall, she didn't stand out as much as her dress probably did. With curly chestnut hair, a heart-shaped face, and doe-like soft brown eyes, her gown was a puffy dark yellow, tight fitted at the waist and spreading wide from the hip down to her covered feet.

"Judging from her fashion style she's probably a Westerlander."

Jon idly spoke up as the three stared at the girl for a second. Said girl noticed the eyes on her and quickly looked away, a blush covering her cheeks and Robb puffed up.

"She must be horrified, looking at a Northern monstrosity in the flesh."

Robb turned on his cousin, offended.

"Oi!"

"Are you trying to say I'm a Northern monstrosity too?"

Lyarra raised an eyebrow at that and as Jon realized the danger he was in, took a small step back.

"Oh, I think father and uncle call for me. I'll be right back."

The siblings watched him scurry off and exchanged amused grins.

"So! This is how Southern feasts are."

The redhead looked around with bright eyes even as Lyarra waved over a server and took two goblets of Myrish wine from the tray they held.

She had come to like it quite a lot. With it's lightness and slightly sweet taste. Of course one had to be careful with the amount they drank as it's alcoholic quality was high.

"Sansa would absolutely love it here."

Robb nodded in agreement as he took one of the cups offered to him with a thankful nod.

"Do you know what she did when we found out about you having dragons?"

"What?"

"She let out a scream and ran off into the night!"

He snickered, taking a sip of his wine and letting out an appreciative hum.

Lyarra though raised an eyebrow.

"Let out a scream?"

"She probably thought you were going to come burn her or something."

"Really?"

"It's Sansa. Whatever did you expect?"

Lyarra snorted at her brother's reply. He was not wrong. It was Sansa. The softest of her siblings in every way. She was also the one she never really played with as a child. Lady Stark had tried to make her children avoid Lyarra as they all grew up but that was all in vein with all but Sansa.

Sansa who was so like her mother not just in looks, but also in character. Or perhaps it was the character that had been molded for the girl. She knew Sansa was capable of more. She had seen it sometimes in the girl's eyes, but never bright enough to actually do something about it.

She'd be lying if she said she wasn't disappointed in the girl, but it probably didn't hurt as much anymore, especially seeing as Lyarra was in King's Landing and Sansa was all the way in the North. In fact, the hurt she usually felt back home in Winterfell whenever she came across her sister and got snubbed was almost a full memory, compared to her wistful sighs in remembrance of her other siblings.

Sansa was still young though, and Lyarra did not know what her Lord Father had planned for his second daughter, but deep down, she truly wished Sansa the best. They were still siblings after all.

"Uncle Edmure!"

Robb's voice snapped her out of her reverie and she turned to see Robb's uncle walking over with a grand smile across his face, behind him was the Blackfish.

For a second, she played with the thought of turning and walking off, but it was a little too late as both men had arrived.

"Robb! Look at you, you've grown!"

Robb's uncle brought him into a hug and a couple of slaps at the back.

"You too, uncle."

"Stop hogging the boy all for yourself, Edmure!"

The Blackfish huffed though there was no bite to it as he smiled at the Heir to the North.

"Good to see you again, Robb."

As they hugged, Lyarra swallowed tightly as she noticed the huge smile on Edmure's face as he stared at her almost like he was taking her in.

"Lady Lyarra, a pleasure to see you again. Just like your brother, you yourself have grown."

Lyarra blinked, a little startled. Usually Lady Stark's brother ignored her for the most part whenever he visited years back, and the times they did run into each other, his face would scrunch into a look of dislike similar to his sister's. It was why she usually avoided him. As for the Blackfish, he usually ignored her and so there was no bad blood whatsoever that she could think of. He wasn't her family after all.

"Thank you, Ser Edmure."

Edmure laughed.

"Please! We're family! You may call me Edmure!"

Lyarra's face did not change as she stared down the man. She could even see Robb's startled look as he stared at his uncle while the Blackfish rolled his eyes, dragging his fingers through his beard.

"You will forgive my nephew for his loose mouth, my Lady. Perhaps he really was dropped as a child by his nursemaid."

"Uncle!"

Edmure glared at the man and Lyarra stifled a grin.

Robb though, didn't hold back as he laughed, holding tightly to his drink so it wouldn't spill what was left.

"Those dragons of yours sure are something."

The Blackfish was never one to back away from a conversation after all.

Lyarra nodded.

"Indeed. They've been growing well."

The older man hummed.

"Dragons reborn. What are the odds. The Targaryens sure have a lot to celebrate."

He grunted slightly before noticing Robb and Lyarra's father where he discussed something with a couple of Lords including Lord Dayne and he straightened up.

"I will leave you to your talk. Come, Edmure."

"What—"

But the heir was dragged off by his uncle.

"That was almost stifling."

Lyarra drily spoke up once they left and Robb chuckled.

"I am happy I don't live in the South. Too much conversations taking place instead of eating and celebrating a wedding. Where are the bride and groom anyways?"

As soon as he said that, the bards stopped playing their songs and a clear voice rang out in the hall.

"Presenting His grace, King Rhaegar of House Targaryen! First of his name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm. Presenting Her grace, Queen Elia of House Martell! Presenting His grace, Aegon of House Targaryen, Crown Prince of the Seven Kingdoms. Presenting Her Grace, Rhaella of House Targaryen, the Queen Mother. Presenting His grace, Viserys of House Targaryen, Prince of Dragonstone. Presenting Her grace, Princess Rhaenys of House Targaryen and her husband, Lord Willas of House Tyrell, the Heir to Highgarden!"

"That's a lot of people."

Robb whispered and Lyarra grinned though just like the rest of the hall, her eyes were on the royal family. As usual they were a beautiful people, especially the King and the Prince who had a glow to them that could be found only amongst those that were descended from the 40 Valyrian families. It was said that the Valyrian seeds across Essos could not stand comparable to those descended of the 40 families.

Everyone waited as they all moved gracefully to the front, the princess with her arms wrapped around her groom with a demure smile on her face.

And then the King addressed everyone.

"My subjects, fellow lords and ladies from distant lands and even across the sea, I welcome you to this feast in celebration of my beloved daughter, the Princess Rhaenys and her husband, Heir Willas Tyrell of Highgarden. It is with hope in my heart that their marriage is blessed and especially fruitful."

As his silvery voice resonated across the hall, many raised their goblets towards the couple, murmuring their assents and prayers and the King continued, this time with a light smile across his face.

"And now, I believe it time for their first dance as husband and wife."

He waved at the bards who immediately got ready as Willas lead Rhaenys towards the dance floor as the music began. A sweet and soft thing that brought a smile to Lyarra's face as she softly moved to the song.

The princess and Willas looked very good together though it was an arranged marriage of sorts.

It made the silvery blonde wonder how her own wedding would be like.

Would it be as regal as this? Would people come from far and wide to celebrate with her? Would she be happy with her groom?

The thought of walking the altar with someone, tall and regal, handsome and with quick wit and strength. Able to make her laugh and get along together, with a breathtaking laugh and silvery hair—

She choked silently where she stood, Robb turning to stare at her puzzled, as she coughed quietly into her fisted hand, face little red.

"You okay there?"

She waved him off quickly.

"Yes."

She answered curtly and he shrugged, turning back to stare at the crowd, after all it felt highly uncomfortable staring at the new bride and groom. Was this how all Southron weddings were? Slow and with too much activities?

He grunted slightly, suddenly understanding why his father despised this part of the South. He was about contemplating sneaking off when his eyes caught those of Nymeria's, her lips lifting into a seductive smile and Robb swallowed tightly, looking away quickly much to Nymeria's growing amusement.

Meanwhile, as the first song finished, the second began just as quickly. Rhaegar turned to his wife, staring at her fondly as he took her in.

She was especially bright today.

She returned his look.

"Would you join me, wife?"

Elia smiled, curtseying slightly.

"I would be honored, husband."

He held his hand out for her and she took it, letting him whisk her off towards the dancefloor where they began their slow waltz.

Almost immediately, everyone began pairing themselves off to dance and soon the floor had over a dozen or so.

Rhaegar hummed slightly and Elia grinned.

"You look happy."

"I am happy. My Rhaenys chose well."

Elia chuckled.

"One would think you would have gotten rid of all her suitors."

Rhaegar smiled, his eyes brushing past said married couple and back on his wife.

"She was quite smart with how she planned things."

"Much like you then."

Rhaegar tilted his head slightly.

"I think not. More like you, I believe."

Elia's smile widened and Rhaegar's face softened even further at how at ease his wife looked.

It warmed his heart so.

"It remains your son now. When will you broach the topic with him? If memory serves well, you and I were already betrothed at this time."

Elia brought up once more and Rhaegar nodded slightly, his eyes filtering over to where his son seemed to be locked in between 2 ladies who seemed desperate enough to ask for a dance with him.

Rhaegar's lips lifted a little at that. It reminded him of his own youth. One of the reasons he usually snuck off to Flea Bottom with Arthur.

"Should I not be asking this of you, wife?"

Elia's eyes glittered, her own eyes moving towards where a silvery blonde girl seemed to be dancing with one of the Crownland heirs her age. Rhaegar followed her line of sight and chuckled lowly even as he twirled her.

"I always knew where your heart lay for Aegon."

Elia tutted slightly.

"Oh?"

"Don't play coy with me, my love. You are my wife. I know you after all, you are my lifelong partner. My very own diabolical mistress of Whisperers."

Elia's heart fluttered much like it always did especially when she had been newly married to her husband.

Elia huffed playfully.

"You will make my hopes a reality, will you not? After all, the people needed for such a meeting are in King's Landing. You will seize the moment, will you not, husband?"

Rhaegar chuckled.

"Nothing ever gets past you."

His wife grinned impishly and Rhaegar sighed.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look this evening?"

Elia shook her head fondly.

"I think this is the 46th time today, my love. But I thank you."

Rhaegar's smiled widened.

"You are most certainly welcome."

---

Ned watched as his children danced across the hall, a look in his eyes, something Robert noticed as he chuckled.

"Thinking of betrothals, Ned?"

He slapped his friends back and the grim lord grunted quietly.

"At 16?"

Robert scoffed.

"Your boy and girl will be turning 17 in 3 moons and my Jon will in less than 1. Your Lyarra is if marriage age already. It helps she controls dragons now. You could wed her to anyone. Ha!"

Robert gulped down a goblet.

"Another!!"

He bellowed out, making many around them jump startled, and Ned grinned.

"You haven't changed, have you?"

Robert gave him a look.

"Changed how?"

Ned huffed out a laugh.

"Do not worry yourself. Tell me, how is my sister?"

And Robert's face brightened as it usually did whenever Lyanna Stark was mentioned.

---

Elsewhere, Jon discussed with the King as he watched his wife be invited to a dance by Lord Kevan Lannister. Rather different from his brother from what he had gathered but still a Lannister who was all for Lannisters.

He had seen the man with his nephew's son, young Tion Lannister before he was sent off of course. He might be the prince's new squire, but he was still young, not 13 name days yet.

Speaking of his son, his eyes roamed over to him, a small amused smile across his face.

Most of the time he gave his children free will to do what it was they wanted, seeing as that had been hard for him during his time growing up under his father's rule. But that did not mean he didn't expect respect from the back.

His son, the heir to the throne and future King of Westeros, who seemed caught in an eyeing match with the Lady Lyarra Dayne.

Many would think he didn't notice a lot of things because of his interest in ruling and tomes, but he preferred to let them think that way as an added advantage for himself.

Watching the two dance around each other discreetly so as not to attract the attention of many was rather welcoming to his heart.

He'd always hoped his son would marry someone of the blood of Valyria royalty just like he himself had, but there was a low number of those running around.

The Lady Lyarra though, she was someone he would gladly encourage his son to be with, and it didn't have to do with the dragons alone.

Oh the dragons were certainly important. The very beings that ensured his ancestors won the seven kingdoms, but the young lady was of the blood of a Valyrian 40 family as well as the blood of Targaryens long since passed.

An Unburnt. Something he never thought he'd ever see in his lifetime or even in the future after he was gone.

A tricky thing, being an Unburnt.

It was not guaranteed in every child of an Unburnt. In fact, the children of Unburnts rarely became Unburnt and rather it showed up in later descendants, just as it did for Lady Dayne.

He himself welcomed the heat and as a Targaryen, he was immune to certain hotness, but walking through fire was something else. Something magnificent.

His eyes brightened with thoughts of prophecies and he shook himself back to reality.

It would not do for him to get lost in such things once more. His great uncle Aemon had warned him more times than needed for it to stick in his mind.

But the matter still stood, he would ensure his family would survive anything that could come for them.

Times were changing. He didn't need to be omniscient to feel a slight change in the very air. Even being informed that the glass candles in the Citadel had awoken a while back was more than enough for him to know. Thankfully the Maesters had been unable to use it. Only those of the blood could, and so he decided to let them keep it.

For now.

His new Master of Whisperers would inform him if any changes were made.

A chuckle escaped him as he wondered the reaction of his small council when he finally decided to officially welcome her to their midst.

Perhaps he'd have something to laugh over with his wife soon enough.

"Jon."

He absentmindedly called to his friend and Hand whose attention immediately focused on him.

"Yes, your grace?"

"Be sure to invite Lord Stark and Lord Dayne to a meeting with me on the morrow. I think it is finally time we discussed our children and their future."

Jon's brow furrowed slightly.

"The future—"

He froze for a second.

"You mean…?"

Rhaegar smiled softly, some ladies lucky enough to spot it in the crowd sighed wistfully. The King might be married but he was still young, turning but 40 in a few months.

"Indeed, Jon. He is 18 now. The line of my ancestors must continue once again."

"But, the prince might not—"

Rhaegar chuckled, finally giving his friend his full attention and Jon swallowed tightly.

"I do not think the prince would fight me on this. Besides, he always knew I would have a decision on his bride."

Jon thought for a second before nodding.

"Of course, your grace. The girl might have had an unfortunate birth, but with the dragons by her side, it would be easy to curb wagging mouths. Especially when they're grown."

Rhaegar hummed in agreement but said nothing else.

As Jon Connington moved to bring up another topic, he paused, nose wrinkling slightly as he caught sight of someone approaching.

An old, wrinkled and weathered old man in his 90s thereabout approached the king. His features almost like those of a vultures. He had a wide grin on his face as he walked with an almost hunched feel like he was struggling and in pain. Runny and clouded eyes and toothless.

Behind him was an old man in his 60s though standing straight. With weasel-like features and grey eyes.

Next to him, the King straightened slightly.

"Lord Frey."

Walder grinned, smile toothless.

"Your grace! You will forgive me if I do not kneel, I know. My legs no longer work as they did, though that which hangs between 'em serves well enough, heh."

He cackled where he stood, holding his belly and Jon sneered at the man, unable to hold himself.

Rhaegar smiled politely.

"Of course. I did not expect to see you here. Perhaps you should have stayed back and let your heir deal with this?"

Stevron Frey bowed where he stood behind his father and Walder scoffed.

"Bah! Miss the princess's wedding? I think not! Granted perhaps I had once hoped to have her wed to one of my numerous sons! Goodfathers we could have been!"

Jon's sneer grew as he puffed up.

"The princess has obviously done well for herself and for someone of her standing, being the Lady of Highgarden will do her well… compared to being just a lady of some crossing, do you not think so, Lord Frey?"

He ended rather condescendingly and Walder's head snapped towards the Hand's direction, eyes narrowing into slits for a second before he grinned.

"Ah! If it isn't Lord Connington! Rumors from the Stormlands say you've lost use of what makes you a man."

Jon's eyes widened and he opened his mouth in offense, sputtering uncontrollably even as Walder continued.

"Of course, I have numerous daughters and Stevron here won't stop you from having a pick of his daughters and nieces too. I'm sure there would be two or three ready to squeeze whatever seed you have left into their cunts—"

Rhaegar cleared his throat rather pointedly as Jon's face had gotten totally red.

Walder bowed as much as his aged back could.

"Apologies, your grace. My age sometimes gets the best of me. Congratulations on your daughters wedding. Perhaps your son would be welcome to having a conversation with me sometime soon. Come Stevron!"

With that, the man and his son marched off towards their next prey. Rhaegar stifled a smile as he saw them approach Lord Baratheon and Lord Stark.

That couldn't possibly end well, especially seeing as both men were in a discussion with the Tully heir and the Blackfish.

The king then paused, turning to his friend.

"I have to ask Jon, where exactly did this rumor start? Perhaps it would do you some good to travel to the Griffins roost for a while. You're not getting any younger you know, except you want your lordship passed on to your brother's children?"

Jon choked, trying to speak but the King patted him almost sympathetically and with a pat on the shoulder, walked off, leaving a slightly fuming and embarrassed Hand behind.

Oh he just knew it was that witch, Lady Baratheon who started this. Damn her!

---

Robb breathed out a sigh of relief as he finally escaped from another dance.

The Lady Jeyne Westerling was quite beautiful, but had been quite a bore in a discussion. And rather clingy. A dance had turned into two and then three.

No, he was not interested in playing Cyvasse some time soon. He wasn't interested in the latest fashion of the Westerlands. He also wasn't interested in the Westerlands if he was being honest.

She was bright yes, and seemingly kind with a gentle heart, but one look to the side and he had spotted a rather intense looking woman who looked much like Lady Jeyne, a sharp and smug look in her eyes as she watched them dance, almost like victory.

His mother had told him much about the South before his journey. How mothers might push their daughters into his arms seeing as he was a future Lord Paramount.

He wasn't about to make a mistake that could cost him his freedom. And besides, his father had already discussed his future with him.

Seeing as he had married outside of the North, as well as his sister, his father had told him it would be his duty to marry a Northern lady.

The thought of marriage was absolutely horrific to him. He was not yet 17, and though many his age might have gotten betrothed at this time, he would make sure that time didn't come for a long while.

"Well, well… if I didn't know any better, I'd think you avoiding a certain lady."

The seductive whisper sounded near his ear and he straightened up, turning to see a smiling Nymeria by his side, her dark eyes watching him closely and Robb swallowed before clearing his throat.

"Do you not like good girls?"

"Not when they're being controlled by their mothers, my lady."

Nymeria chuckled.

"My lady… you would not call me that if you knew what I had in mind for you."

Robb's eyes widened slightly with interest, and as she deftly leaned into his side, whispering sweetly into his ear, her breasts rubbing enticingly against his arm, he felt his breeches tighten as he gulped, leaning away at the victorious look in her eyes.

"Come on… no one will notice."

She winked before turning and sauntering off.

Robb looked around discreetly. Everyone seemed to be busy with one thing or another. His father was with his Lord Uncles, all glaring at a laughing old man Robb recognized as Walder Frey after the man had tried to introduce him to his numerous weasel looking daughters.

Glancing around one last time, Robb walked around people and snuck out of the hall. As he turned a corner, a rather confused look on his face as he nervously looked around.

Had she decided this was a bad idea? Perhaps he really shouldn't be doing this too. It wasn't as honorable as his father had thought him.

Still though, it wasn't like—

"Ah, there you are…"

Nymeria purred, grabbing a hold of his bicep and dragging him into a dark alcove.

---

"Bedding!!!"

Lyarra jumped a little startled as an almost drunken roar resonated around the hall and in no time, the hall was calling out for a bedding.

She looked around, almost amused.

Being raised in the North, the idea of how a call for bedding took place was the norm in the eyes of all, even Lyarra herself. It was something she saw as normal although not ideal. After all, who wants old men and grubby hands making a grab for her body parts, or even old withered women jesting and grabbing at the groom.

She was rather curious though, how it would be for a member of the Royal family.

Lyarra noted as some members of the Kingsguard took warning steps towards the Princess and her groom and the mad crazed in many eyes died down into mumbles.

The couple were still carried and led out the hall though. It was rather amusing to watch and at the same time she was relieved for Rhaenys. After all, she was a princess and it would be rather degrading for someone like her to be touched so disrespectfully.

"Father told me no one dared touch Queen Elia during her wedding to the prince, out of fear for the Mad King."

Wylla Manderly whispered excitedly where she stood next to Lyarra.

Lyarra turned to the 14 name days old girl curiously.

"They thought he would have burnt them?"

Wylla grinned.

"Who wanted to test that out?"

Lyarra snorted in amusement.

"Cousin!"

The silvery blonde turned to see Jon walking towards her with an almost puffed up look and when she noticed who walked next to him, she knew why.

"Jon. Lady Margaery."

She curtseyed politely at the other girl who smiled demurely before returning the greeting.

"Lady Lyarra, wonderful to see you hale and well. We had been ever so worried when we heard about the wildfire incident. Grandmother also sends her greetings."

She had a concerned but welcome smile on her face and Lyarra blinked, not sure whether to believe her or not.

Perhaps her time in King's Landing was slowly beginning to teach her what was what and who meant what.

It also helped that her fellow Ladies in waiting had taken her under their wings. All of them were scattered around the hall with their significant others and she had made sure to greet them whenever her paths crossed with any.

"Thank you for your concern, Lady Margaery."

Then she remembered Wylla was next to her.

"This is Lady Wylla Manderly. A friend of mine and granddaughter to Lord Manderly, the Master of Coins."

Margaery turned her gaze on the younger girl, her eyes lingering more on her garishly dyed yellow hair and eyebrows, and Lyarra stifled a grin at how unconcerned Wylla looked even as she curtseyed.

"A pleasure to meet you, Lady Tyrell."

"You as well, Lady Manderly. What curious hair you have."

She smiled politely and Wylla twirled a strand of her hair with a side smirk.

"What can I say, it suits me."

Margaery pursed her lips a little and Lyarra looked away with a smile, spotting the Prince Viserys dancing with Lady Larissa Velaryon. How that came about, she didn't know, seeing as from what she knew of the 26 named days old lady, she didn't seem interested in marrying anyone and Prince Viserys just about enjoyed his own company and his mother's, to any one else's.

Nearby, she spotted the Queen Mother smiling satisfactorily and stifled a chuckle.

"My family and I will be leaving King's Landing on the morrow, now that the marriage is over with."

Margaery absentmindedly spoke up as she glanced around the hall with a smile though her eyes focused back on Lyarra who turned back to her a little surprised.

"Ah… I'm sure you miss Highgarden. Ser Garlan spoke of it's unrivaled beauty. He said perhaps Summerhall was a near second to the otherworldly beauty of your home."

Margaery grinned.

"But of course. Highgarden has no rival. I'm sure Summerhall is as beautiful as it is said to be. Perhaps you will get to see it soon."

Her eyes sharpened slightly and Lyarra raised an eyebrow.

What was that supposed to mean?

Margaery though, had reverted back into a look of amusement as she leaned closer so Jon and Wylla wouldn't hear.

"Dragons are indeed ferocious beasts, especially after they grow. They can win you a lot of things, hm? Even princes."

She stepped back, ignoring the look on Lyarra's face.

"It was a pleasure getting to know you, Lady Lyarra. Perhaps we shall meet one day soon, and in a more conducive setting."

The silvery blonde frowned, a little confused at the double sided message behind the other girl's words, but before she could say anything, she noticed the eyes of her companions behind her and the clearing of a throat.

"Lady Lyarra."

Lyarra's eyes widened for a second before she spun around to see Aegon smiling freely at her, a hand stretched out.

"May I have this dance?"

She found herself unable to stop the smile of amusement she threw at him as she took his hand.

"Of course, my prince."

As heled her towards the floor, he chuckled.

"My name is Aegon."

"You called me Lady Lyarra."

She threw back at him and he chuckled, twirling her and bringing her into his arms.

Her breath caught slightly at his hand on her waist, their faces so close yet so far, unable to show the love they held for each other as numerous eyes focused on them like they were the most interesting thing in the room.

"You look absolutely breathtaking, Lyarra. You took my breath away."

Lyarra stifled a smile.

"Why thank you, Aegon. But stop looking at me that way, people are beginning to stare too closely."

Aegon's eyes brightened with glee.

"What way?"

He leaned closer and her eyes widened.

"Stop it."

She whispered, side eyeing those around but Aegon only laughed, attracting more eyes on them.

"Maybe I want them to look? Maybe I want those hopeful suitors staring at you to know they have no chance?"

He leaned down to whisper in her ear.

"I think your father just might kill me… but my mother looks very satisfied."

He met his mother's eyes head-on and she smiled at him, satisfied.

Nearby, Ned watched the two with an almost confused realization, not seeing his son finally sneak back into the hall a little harried but satisfied.

Aegon turned back to the object of his utmost affection.

"Don't tell me you were jealous."

She rolled her eyes and he shrugged.

"My blood runs hot, Lyarra. Of course I was jealous."

Her tummy fluttered slightly and a playful grin appeared on his face as he brushed his lips against her cheek and pretended to whisper in her ear, making some gossip amongst each other.

Where he stood, Rhaegar sighed exasperatedly at his son though he didn't appear angered.

Olenna Tyrell snorted where she sat with a goblet in hand, taking a sip.

It would seem the prince was not pretending to hold back anymore. In fact, it was almost like he was daring others to say something.

Slowly across the hall, it was becoming apparent that perhaps something was going on between the Prince of Summerhall and the Lady Dayne, Mother of Dragons.

All in all, as many watched the prince dance with the lady that evening, one dance turning to three, it was obvious that many things would be discussed about this wedding for many moons to come.

---

The Westerlands.

Casterly Rock.

Tyrion Lannister smiled softly as his wife kissed him goodnight and left for their shared chambers, leaving him in his solar, going back to his planning.

The Westerlords were calling for more freedom with trade, something he could not easily give them yet without the King's approval.

After his father had chosen to side with Aerys and planned an assassination of the queen and her children, the Westerlands had not been as great as it used to. Even the gold of Casterly rock which had run deep for thousands of years was slowly showing it wouldn't continue to run deep forever. If there was anything Tyrion was good at, it was protecting those dear to him.

He would find a way. He always did.

At least bringing up the news of his son's squireship to the Prince would make many think perhaps they were slowly on a mend with the Targaryens. Something he hoped.

He would never use his son for politics, but he couldn't help but hope that at least a friendship would come from that seeing as his siblings were proving to be useless in that endeavor.

He loved Jaime but it was easy to see Jaime could care less about the Westerlords and their wishes.

And then there was Cersei. His lovely witch of a sister. Try as he might, he had never been able to foster any feeling of love or familial feeling with her.

It had hurt him while growing up, but now… now, it was only wariness and a deep lack of distrust he held for her. He knew her hatred for his wife and children. He knew the Westerlords hated his marriage to Tysha. He saw it in the looks they gave her whenever some of the more traditional lords visited.

"My Lord."

Tyrion turned as his Maestar knocked on his door and he stifled a sigh.

"Enter."

He downed his goblet and poured himself more wine.

Today was the Princess's marriage to Willas Tyrell.

Lucky bastard. The Targaryens seemed to welcome them and now they were family.

"My Lord, this just arrived, from Ashemark."

As soon as he said that, the small lord sat up in his seat as he took the letter, wasting no time to tear into it.

As he read it though, he slumped slightly into his seat, a hollowed chuckle escaping his lips.

"Is there something wrong?"

The Maester asked curiously and Tyrion smiled sardonically, taking a rather bug gulp of his arbor gold before glancing down at the letter in his hand.

"Addam Mabrand is dead."

The Maester bowed respectfully.

"Condolences my Lord. Should I draft a letter to be sent?"

Tyrion nodded and the Maesters excused himself out of the room. As soon as he was gone, Tyrion sighed.

"Well fuck."

Now Cersei controlled much of Ashemark and it's people. Seeing as her demon spawn was just 14. He would leave much of the work to his mother while he did whatever he wanted.

Tyrion had always hated the little beast, compared to the younger twins. Sweet as could be and more of Addam than Joffrey ever could.

It wouldn't surprise him if his sister had copulated with herself in some ritual to have him because the shit was as much Cersei as could be.

And now, she had free reign over her late husband's lands. As if it wasn't suspicious enough that she had something to do with his death.

What was she up to now…

It was obviously no good whatsoever. What could he do though? He had no proof after all, and it wouldn't do to turn her attention on him at the moment, not when he had issues to deal with. The more mouthy lords and Clegane and his group of bastards.

Ah well… things were getting rather stale around here.

"Let the games begin, Cersei."

He mumbled mostly to himself before downing his goblet once more and pouring himself another.

---

King's Landing.

The King's Chambers.

'From my blood comes the prince that was promised, and his will be the song of ice and fire'

Rhaegar sat comfortably as he stared at the Valyrian dagger in his hand, twirling it in his hand, eyes far away as he remembered something his great uncle had told him decades back.

It had been what kick-started his obsession with prophecies.

Something passed on, from King to heir. Aemon's father had passed it on to him but he decided not to become king.

Rhaegar's father had never told him, the man a mad and suspicious king, possibly thinking Rhaegar would push to overthrow him, not that his concerns didn't come to past.

He suspected that was the reason his father searched out a Valyrian blooded wife for him, to carry on the prophecy and what it entailed.

Aemon had later been the one to tell him everything.

'Our histories… they tell us that Aegon looked across the Blackwater from Dragonstone, and saw a rich land ripe for the capture. But ambition alone is not what drove him to conquest. It was a dream. And just as Daenys foresaw the end of Valyria, Aegon foresaw the end of the world of men.'

'What did he see?'

He'd sent a letter to Aemon who later replied.

'Tis to begin with a terrible winter gusting out of the distant north. Aegon saw absolute darkness riding on those winds. And whatever dwells within will destroy the world of the living. When this Great Winter comes, Rhaegar, all of Westeros must stand against it. And if the world of men is to survive, a Targaryen must be seated on the Iron Throne. A king or queen, strong enough to unite the realm against the cold and the dark. Aegon called his dream 'The Song of Ice and Fire.'

'This secret… it's been passed from king to heir since Aegon's time. Now you must promise to carry it… and protect it, and when the time comes, you must pass it onto your own son. Your own Aegon.'

Rhaegar had searched and searched for more on the message, but he could never find answers. And it scared him, what darkness it spoke of.

And then his dreams those years back. The North. It all came back to the North.

And now, a girl from the North had come to King's Landing. From a land of Ice. And there was his son, of Fire and Blood, the crown prince of the realm.

He always said he would never push his children into fulfilling the prophecy, but now it looked like date was moving things on its own.

Did it mean the Great Winter would come in his son's time? A great darkness was coming?

Did it have anything to do with the Great Other his uncle had spoken of?

"And what are you thinking so deeply on?"

Elia's voice brought him out of his clouded thoughts and he smiled softly, placing the dagger on the table and turning to see his wife with her arms crossed, dressed in her sleepwear of light cool cotton.

"The future."

He got to his feet, moving to stand in front of his wife and placing a kiss on her forehead as she hugged him, her head resting against his chest as she hummed.

"Stop overthinking about the future and think about the present. Or rather yet, think about me."

Rhaegar smiled, a soft chuckle escaping his lips.

"Of course, my love."

Elia stepped back, searching his eyes for a second before shaking her head in fond exasperation.

"You and your thoughts. Come, we should go to bed. It has been a long day, and you need to be there to bid our daughter a safe journey to her new home."

Rhaegar smiled though his heart panged at the thought of his first born living away from him.

But it was to be expected.

"Of course. Sleeping sounds good. It has been a long day."

Elia smirked as she looked over her shoulders at him.

"Well, not just sleep of course."

Rhaegar watched her enter their bedchambers and he chuckled, shaking his head.

His wife could be sweet most of the time that he could easily forget she was just as hot blooded as any other Dornish.

With that in mind, he joined her for the night.

---

Aegon's Chambers.

DREAMSCAPE.

He looked around in confusion.

How had he gotten here?

Where was here?

It was cold and windy and snowy, and he was in his sleep wear, his sleep robe untied and his chest uncovered.

His feet buried in the snow.

The North.

What was he doing in the North?

Where in the North was he?

Aegon looked around in panicked confusion as the howling of the cold air blocked his ear and he covered his face, stumbling slightly as the wind blew him harshly.

He stumbled through a forest, his throat closed right and unable to call for help as he gasped harshly, his heartbeat quickening uncontrollably in his chest, leaving him slightly lightheaded in the process.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of walking in the cold and darkness, he stumbled out into a clearing, the skies suddenly becoming bright but the unending cold continuous.

He looked behind him and to his surprise, the forest he had been stumbling through was nowhere to be found.

On his left was nothing, and to his right, thousands of feet away, squinting his eyes, he could catch glimpses of the wall standing tall and imposing and oh so far away.

Beyond the wall.

He was beyond the wall.

How had he gotten here??

How could he go back?!

Suddenly, he looked forward, spotting movement from even further away and he stopped, confused even as the cold held him to the very bones and he felt like death had embraced him.

The movement was a bit confusing at first, that is, until it got closer and closer and closer, and it was a crowd. More than a crowd. A multitude of people.

Not people.

They couldn't be people. They ran like mad stumbling drunks, but they were fast.

But what scared him to his very bones were what they looked like. Dead. Dead and rot.

Dead.

Dead things walking!

Running in his direction! Thousands and thousands!

"By the Gods!"

He cursed out in shock, turning to run for his life when his leg caught and he fell into the chilling snow.

He gasped out in panic to see what he'd fallen over and lo and behold, there by his leg, was the most magnificent sword he'd ever seen in his entire life.

A greatsword made of a very beautiful material, almost like Valyrian steel but it's glint was so much beautiful. Almost as pure as silver and yet not. A full glow to it as writings in a language he couldn't understand shone on its body. It's large hilt made of a material that shone like gold with ruby red fiery design beneath.

He continued to stare at it for a second when a Male disembodied voice screamed harshly in his head.

"CLAIM IT!!"

Aegon screamed out in shock and fear, grasping at his head.

---

And that was how he woke up.

Grasping at his head as he sat up with a shout.

He was in his room.

The windows opened slightly and old night air filtering through.

He was safe.

It was a dream.

"Just a dream."

He said mostly to himself as he rubbed at his forehead, hands shaking slightly and goosebumps against his skin.

And what a dream it was.

What kind of a dream was that?

Seeing dead things and a sword? Finding himself in the North.

He chuckled humorlessly.

Perhaps his visit to the wall really was still in the back of his mind somewhere.

Dead things.

Ridiculous.

He got to his feet, walking towards his large window and moving to close it while wondering just where the night chill had come from.

"Caw!"

Aegon blinked.

"Caw!!"

The prince glanced out in confusion, looking around before closing the window.

As he turned towards his bed, he paused, as on the edge sat a raven. A raven that turned towards him, with red eyes.

"Caw!! Caw!!! Prince!!! Prince!!!"

---

He woke up for really this time, with a gasp, holding onto his chest in confusion.

Aegon looked around, turning to his window.

It was locked shot.

A dream within a dream?

What madness was that?

He groaned slightly, holding onto his forehead.

He must be tired indeed.

How else could he explain away such a thing?

No.

He was just tired.

Perhaps… perhaps the new day would calm him.

Looking around his room once more, he laid back in his bed, closing his eyes and welcoming sleep and this time, his dreams were of the better sort, involving the object of his affection.

---

Over 19k words!

I surprise myself sometimes... I really do. It was meant to be longer, if you can actually believe it. Another extra 8 to 10k words but i changed it to another chapter, lol.

Anyways! A lot of things happened in this chapter!

The wedding and congregation of numerous lords and ladies from far and wide.

Who enjoyed the Lyarra/Robb/Jon bickering?? It was entertaining as it was cute!

More Lyarra and Aegon moments. Ned suspecting something is up and acting more like the hermit lord that he is.

The baby dragons being protective of their mother. Well, more like the onyx one showing Aegon just who the boss around here is.

Nymeria finally got herself some Stark loving! If Aegon wasn't going to let her around Lyarra, she would go for her brother instead! Lol.

Don't worry, it's not a ship you all. It's just a bunch of medieval fun, because why not?! We can't have Robb be a virgin and be controlled by what is between his legs anyways. Let him learn.

And did you guys catch a glimpse of Jeyne Westerling? For those that don't know, in the books, she was married to Robb and not Talisa. Just a couple of cameos here and there.

Lord Frey and his family of weasels letting you all know they are around and still kicking.

I wonder where the rumors on Jon Connington really came from, lmao! Poor man!

Oh and you all asked for it! Rhaegar and Elia moments! Hope you enjoyed it!!

And welcome back Missandei! We missed you so! Anyone catch the breaker of chains reference?? *Wink Wink*

Oh and a little Loras and Renly cameo too because like, why not too?? I'm crazy enough to add this many characters my whole mind was breaking apart.

I brought back Viserys and his little monkey partner too. A gift from his visit to Braavos.

Then there's Edmure with his ridiculous arse kissing. Probably sent by his father too.

Then the news from the Westerlands pertaining to Cersei. Crazy psychopath finally got rid of her poor husband!

Rhaegar's thoughts on prophecy and all that has been going on. I took a couple of things from House of the dragon on that. The prophecy to be precise.

And then finally... Aegon is having weird dreams. Dead things and swords and birds and the wall and beyond!

What did you all think??

Your comments give me life and encourage me to keep on going! I hope to hear from you lovely and amazing people soon!!!

NEXT CHAPTER, people begin to head home. Aegon and Lyarra spend time together discussing many things while the king meets to discuss a betrothal.