Wife of the Wolf, Husband of the Sun.
Book 2
Chapter One-Hundred and Thirty-Nine
The storms were harsh, the seas were worse.
A part of her hoped that the ships would sink, break against the waves and sink into the darkness below. It was an evil thought, and not one she was proud of and yet it was hers all the same.
Lyarra sighed as she tilted her head up to meet the sheets of rain that fell upon the ship, all around her men were bellowing at one another and yet Lyarra could barely hear them over the thunder, the Ironborn believed that their was a god of storms and that god was evil, locked in constant battle with their drowned god and with a storm like this Lyarra could well believe it.
"Septa! Septa!" She could barely hear the knight over the storm, and she did not turn to face him until he took hold of her arm and made him face her, his face was in darkness and when it was shown to her in the flash of lightning he looked like a monster. "You must go below deck! It is not safe up here!"
Lyarra nodded, even though all she wished to do was push the man overboard to be swallowed up by the vast monster beneath them. Ser Aston Sunglass was Lord Guncer's second son, and one of the knights who had been named to Rhaenys's Queensguard. He was comely, she supposed and many of the young novices back in Sweetport Sound's motherhouse spoke of how gallant he was, a perfect knight.
But to her, all she could see was a traitor. A man who was just as much a part of Rhaenys's misery.
She should try and forgive him, she knew that she should. The Mother's mercy was all encompassing and should embrace all.
But the Mother Above was a goddess and Lyarra was just a woman, and a imperfect one at that. And her anger burned like a flame.
Once she was below deck she made her way to the large and fine cabin that had been given to Rhaenys, so all the people who had harmed her could pretend that she was their queen instead of their victim.
Rhaenys was huddled under the covers of her bed, completely covered by them. Septa Noella was sitting in a chair across from the bed, reading from the Seven-Pointed Star with a look of sour disapproval on her face, even with the storm sounding louder and louder with each moment and the ship rocking more fiercely the Septa did not stop reading for even one moment.
All Lyarra wanted to do was crawl under the covers with her, hold her close and kiss her golden curls and promise that she would keep her safe from any and all. But she couldn't, not just because Noella was watching but also because it was a promise that she would not be able to keep.
And so Lyarra sat at the foot of the bed and reached out to rest her hand on top of the bump that Rhaenys's made under the covers, she felt her love flinch but after a moment she seemed to recognise the touch and did not pull away.
Outside, the storm kept lashing.
The dawn crept up upon them, the storm had passed but the seas were still rocky and rain was still spitting down upon the ship. Lyarra convinced Rhaenys to come and get some air while the weather was somewhat calm, she needed as much she could get.
Ever since her coronation and wedding to Lord Sunglass Rhaenys looked terrible, she had the same alabaster skin as her mother but she looked half a corpse at the moment, she had dark circles under her eyes that spoke of how little she had slept and she had lost a great deal of weight, she almost looked like a strong breeze would be enough to pick her up and send her flying.
And the worst thing was knowing that at least part of it was her fault, she had been putting the powder in her tea every morning after Lord Sunglass came to her bed, to ensure that no babe would take root within her and that her moonblood would always come.
And it had worked, but it had also wrought new horrors on Rhaenys, her stomach was always upset and she could only stomach thin broths, anything richer would make her ill. Her stomach would sometimes pain her as well, sharp pains that brought tears to her eyes and would even grow bad enough that she would scream.
And Lyarra had been the one to do this to her, she had poisoned her without her knowledge to save her. If she bore an heir, it would mean her life even if she did not wish it. Lyarra could not let that happen.
"Look," She whispered to Rhaenys as they stood near the deck railing. "The sun is finally coming out," great gashes were opening in the grey sky, golden light shinning down at various spots on the grey sea.
Rhaenys only hummed, the older woman shutting her eyes.
They stayed on the deck for another hour before Rhaenys started to complain of a chill and then Lyarra took her back to her cabin and tucked her underneath her covers, telling soft stories of what they would do once they were back in King's Landing until she fell back into a slumber, and then left to go back up to the deck to stare at the other ships upon the sea.
There were fourteen other ships, not quite a fleet but certainly a fearsome force all the same. No pirate lord with any sense would dare try and attack them but that did not stop Lyarra from praying some stupid fool would attempt it all the same. With luck they would sink a few ships and make it easier for her father to deal with them.
The smell of sulphur and brimstone gave her a hint to where they were going, the dark grey smoke drifting into the sky on the distance confirmed her suspicions, and hope and fear warred within her chest.
Dragonstone, they were going to Dragonstone.
Torrhen might be there, her big brother. He had been planning to leave the capital with the rest of their family to go North when the High Septon called for the holy confinement, he might have left the capital upon returning to take his seat back.
Dragonstone was a strong castle, no doubt it would hold against Lord Sunglass and his allies but the fear she felt could not be denied. Lyarra had been taken as a hostage because they needed one and she was a septa, she had sworn the oaths.
But Torrhen was her father's heir, he had taken a red priestess for a lover and, despite their parents best efforts to shield the rest of them, rumours of what had happened in that brothel had reached her ears. Her brother would been seen as an abomination, an undead.
They would kill him.
It was just before midday when Dragonstone came into view, a black spot in the distance that seemed to grow larger with each passing second. When it was recognisably an island the first thing that Lyarra noticed was the lack of ships.
There were a few, fishing boats floating in the sea and a single massive cog at port, but there should have been more. Dragonstone was one of the most important castle in Westeros, the seat of the heir to the throne, there should have been a fleet of ships defending it.
Something must have happened.
Lyarra did not have time to question it as Ser Aston came to her again and asked her to return to the cabin, with his mailed hand clasped around her arm. She was there when the ship came to port, and it was hours later before anyone came to fetch her and their queen.
She and Rhaenys were brought to the castle in a litter, Lyarra gazed out through the curtains as they passed through the large fishing village that stood in the shadow of the castle. It looked untouched and she could hear children laughing.
The silence came when they were brought into the castle yard, along with the blood.
Lyarra had only been to Dragonstone once before, on the day when her eldest brother had taken his place as it's prince. Three days the royal court had spent there, there had been a feast every night and a tourney, and while Lyarra had done her best to keep to her vow of modesty and penance she had enjoyed the laughter and the cheer it had brought to this grim place.
There were bodies on the ground now, men who had served within the castle faithfully. Lyarra had seen death, she had been at the bedsides of so many as they had left this world. But most of those had been old, or sick, there time had been long coming.
This was different, there were old men on the ground to be sure grizzled men-at-arms and old serving men, but there were young men as well. Men who could barely grow peach fuzz on their cheeks, men barely old enough to be called such.
And most of them had no weapons near them, only a few had swords and none of them were bloody.
She understood then, and she hated.
They were brought into the Stone Drum and marched upwards towards the chamber of the Painted Table, words were floating down towards them. "Ser Bonifer will be the hammer, and we shall be the anvil." Spoke her love's tormentor, his voice calm.
"King's Landing will never be weaker than it is now, if we are to sit Queen Rhaenys upon the Iron Throne then we must do so now," Lyarra did not recognise the voice but she recognised the effect the words had on Rhaenys, her breathing quickened and tears began to well in her eyes. Lyarra took her hand, stroking her thumb over her knuckles to try and comfort her.
"The city will not fall easily, the walls are strong and the sinners within do have love for the northern savage and his Dornish whore," Lyarra did not know the man who owned that voice either, but she knew she wanted to strangle him.
"There are virtuous souls within the city as well, men and women of worth. The High Septon will preach our cause, as it was in the days before Maegor the Cruel sat the Iron Throne the hill of Visenya shall be our place of strength. You can defend against enemies outside your walls, none can defend against those within." She did know that voice, Lord Dustin Howe of Howe's Barrow, a man she had always thought wise and pious. And now she could think of him a traitor as well.
Before she could hear more they had finally finished their climb and the lords around the table suddenly stopped speaking when they walked inside. "Your Grace, you are always a welcome sight." Lord Dustin said as he bowed to Rhaenys.
Rhaenys stared at him for a moment, before she finally spoke. "I am no Queen, I want no part of this treason. But if you will not see sense on your own then it seems I must do it for you. This will be my first and last command, put up your swords and return myself and Septa Lyarra to King's Landing and beg for mercy from the Iron Throne, it is the only chance any of you have to see any more days."
There was only silence then, it was only broken when Lord Sunglass spoke after clearing his throat. "I know my lords will forgive the Queen her words, her loyalty is heart-warming but misguided. My love, until you see sense I must act as your regent. Eddard Stark would see our faith, the true faith, the faith you love, driven into the dirt and have the people worship trees and offer blood sacrifices of maidens and children. You cannot support such evil."
"And what of the evil of sticking down men who let you into their halls?" Lyarra asked, staring straight at Guncer Sunglass. "I don't know what has happened, some war or other as why else would the castle be so thinly garrisoned? But that is how you took it, by vile treachery. The garrison opened the gates to you, no doubt thinking you had come here to supply before sailing off, and you rewarded their kindness with blood."
For half a heartbeat, there was shame on Lord Sunglass's face but then it was gone. "I have no doubt that the gods will see me punished for my sins, but in their defence there is nothing I would not do. Some men speak of defending their faith, I will do it. As should you Septa, you swore the vows. If you truly mean them you should support me with your whole heart, no matter who your family is."
"Why are we here, Lord Sunglass?" Lyarra asked. "You brought us here, you could have sent us to apartments within the castle but you summoned us here, to your war council, why?"
"To show you something," The Lord of Sweetport Sound snapped his fingers and two men-at-arms brought the woman forward, her face was bruised and her crimson robes were ripped. "We have captured your brother's red witch, who he has taken for a whore. Do you deny that our gods are being subverted, that a demon worshipper is whispering in the ear of the heir to the throne?"
Lyarra stared at the red woman for a moment, she did not seemed utterly concerned with her situation. She looked amused, more than anything else. "Many men take many woman into bed who are not their true wives, it is a common sin that I have had confessed to me many times, among men both high and low," she turned her glance back to Sunglass. "How many of them listen to what they have to say, either during or after?"
"Well, none shall be listening to what this false priestess has to say." Lord Sunglass said. "The Mother is merciful, so I have decided the red witch shall keep her life. But you can live and not speak."
The red woman she opened her mouth then, a gaping black hole with no teeth or tongue. A horror to see and a horror to live, but her red eyes were laughing.
End of Chapter One-Hundred and Thirty-Nine