Chapter 19
"So, what did you think of Lady Faye?" Jeyne asked as Sansa's maid brushed her mistress's hair.
"She is pretty, I suppose," Sansa replied. "But there are many prettier girls."
"And the prince is so handsome," Jeyne sighed, her tone dreamy. "I can't believe I'll actually be dining with him."
Arya rolled her eyes, swinging her legs impatiently from her chair. It had only taken her a few moments to get ready for dinner, and now she was stuck waiting in Sansa's chamber. Their mother had insisted on it, to keep her out of trouble, as Catelyn had put it.
As Arya fidgeted, she shot an irritated glance at Sansa. How could she care so much about who was pretty and who wasn't?
"Maybe he actually likes her," Arya muttered.
Sansa arched a brow, turning slightly in her chair to look at her sister. "What do you mean?"
"I mean," Arya said, crossing her arms, "maybe he didn't choose her just because of how she looks. Maybe he cares about other things."
Jeyne giggled. "You sound like you actually think men marry for love."
"Some do," Arya argued, scowling.
Sansa gave her a pitying look, as if she were a child who had said something naive. "Aegon is a prince, Arya. He has a duty. Even if he did like her, that doesn't mean it was his choice."
Arya frowned, unconvinced. Something about Aegon had felt… familiar. Almost like she should know him, even though she didn't. He had looked at her strangely, too, like he wanted to say something but couldn't.
"I can't wait for the wedding feast," Sansa sighed.
"Me neither," Jeyne agreed. "Who knows? Maybe we'll each meet our own prince."
"Seven hells," Arya snorted.
Sansa shot Arya a disapproving look. "Must you be so crude?"
Arya smirked. "Must you be so silly?"
Jeyne giggled, though she tried to stifle it when Sansa glared at her.
"I'm only being realistic," Sansa huffed, turning back to the mirror as her maid finished pinning her hair. "You should at least try to act like a lady tonight, Arya. Mother will be watching."
Arya rolled her eyes. "I don't see why it matters. It's just dinner."
"It's not just dinner," Sansa insisted. "We'll dine with the whole royal family. We're representing our house."
Arya barely held back another groan. She didn't care about formalities or courtly manners. She just wanted to eat, maybe slip out before anyone noticed.
Before Sansa could lecture her further, a knock sounded at the door. A servant stepped inside and dipped her head. "My ladies, the feast is ready."
Sansa stood, smoothing her skirts with a graceful motion. "We mustn't keep the royal family waiting."
Jeyne beamed and looped her arm through Sansa's, whispering something that made her giggle.
Arya dragged her feet as she followed them out of the chamber. If this is what being a lady meant, she wanted no part of it.
Jon cleared his throat before taking a sip from his goblet. Of all the dinners he had attended at the Red Keep as Aegon, this had to be the most surreal. He was seated beside Rhaegar, as always, with Rhaenys on his other side, followed by Genevieve, Arya, Sansa, Lady Jeyne, and Lady Stark. Across from them, Lyanna occupied her usual seat at Rhaegar's side, with Faye, Willas, Ned, Brandon, Robb, and Margaery seated beside her. Lady Olenna was present as well, though Mace Tyrell and Prince Oberyn were absent.
Jon couldn't help but notice the visible tension between Ned and Rhaegar, though Ned had greeted the King with measured respect. Lyanna and Brandon, however, seemed to share a silent agreement to keep the atmosphere light. Brandon, ever the charismatic and boisterous one, was a stark contrast to the solemn and reserved Ned. Yet, despite their differences, it was clear that the brothers were genuinely glad to see each other again.
Genevieve was asking Arya about her direwolf after hearing that all Stark children had one.
"Her name is Nymeria," Arya said.
Genevieve's eyes widened. "I love stories about Nymeria! I named Lady Faye's hawk after her!"
Arya perked up at that, her interest piqued. "You did?"
Genevieve nodded enthusiastically. "She was a warrior queen. Led ten thousand ships across the Narrow Sea. A proper legend."
Arya grinned, clearly approving. "She was. My Nymeria is just as fierce."
Jon watched the exchange with quiet amusement. Genevieve had a way of charming people without even trying. Unlike Sansa, who valued grace and courtesy, or Faye, who exuded quiet strength, Genevieve had an effortless warmth that put people at ease.
"She's brave?" Genevieve asked, eyes gleaming with curiosity.
Arya smirked. "She does what she wants."
Beside her, Sansa sighed. "Which is exactly the problem."
Jon saw Lady Stark's lips press together slightly, though she said nothing.
"You should see her sometime," Arya went on, ignoring her sister. "She's the biggest of all the direwolves. Even bigger than Grey Wind."
At that, Robb raised a brow. "Bigger than Grey Wind? I doubt that."
Arya shot him a challenging look. "You'll see."
Jon caught the flicker of surprise on Robb's face. He had probably expected Arya to hold her tongue in the presence of the royal family, but Arya had never cared for courtly manners.
"Perhaps we might arrange a hunt," Rhaegar suggested, his tone mild. "It would give us all a chance to see the wolves in action."
Jon glanced at Ned, who remained unreadable, though his fingers curled slightly around the stem of his goblet.
"That would be most interesting," Margaery said pleasantly, clearly sensing the shift in the conversation and steering it back toward lighter ground.
Brandon grinned. "Well, if a hunt is to be had, I'm in. Though I doubt any beast in these lands would dare show its face with all these wolves about."
A few chuckles followed, but Jon wasn't fooled. Beneath the pleasantries, beneath the wine and the food, tensions still lingered.
Jon wondered what exactly had happened between Ned and Rhaegar. Brandon seemed to get along well with his sister's husband.
"I would like to meet the hawk, Nymeria," Arya said, looking at Faye.
"Of course," Faye replied, offering Arya a polite smile. "I am still getting to know her myself, so perhaps Lord Willas would be so kind as to join us tomorrow?"
"Certainly," Willas assured.
Arya nodded, clearly pleased with the idea. "Good. I've never trained a hawk before, but I'd like to see how it's done."
Willas smiled. "They're not so different from direwolves in some ways. They're fiercely independent, but once they trust you, they're loyal for life."
Arya's expression turned thoughtful. "That's the best kind of loyalty."
Sansa, who had been quietly observing the exchange, took a sip of her wine before speaking. "I imagine training a hawk requires far more patience than handling a direwolf."
"Perhaps," Faye agreed lightly. "But patience is rewarded."
Rhaegar set down his goblet, his gaze resting on Arya with interest. "You seem to have a keen understanding of animals, Lady Arya."
Arya hesitated, unused to being directly addressed by the king. She glanced briefly at her father before nodding. "Animals are easier to understand than people."
A small smile tugged at the corner of Rhaegar's mouth, though he said nothing more.
"I rode Ser Fury," Genevieve announced proudly. "He's my knight."
"Yes, you rode him straight into the swimming bath," Rhaenys said, trying to hide her amusement. "You're lucky your Uncle Aegon was there to save you."
"Is that so?" Brandon chuckled.
"Yes," Jon confirmed, his lips curving into a smile. "That taught me not to turn my back on the little lady even for a moment."
"That's an important lesson to learn with Genevieve," Willas said, giving his daughter a warm smile.
"And you saved her, Your Grace?" Margaery said. "That was most brave of you."
Jon shook his head, amused. "It was hardly an act of bravery. More like necessity."
Genevieve huffed. "I wasn't drowning! Ser Fury just wanted to swim, and I went with him."
Rhaenys sighed. "You nearly gave your uncle a heart attack, little one."
Brandon chuckled. "A proper adventurer, this one. She reminds me of Arya."
Arya smirked. "I could teach her a few things."
Robb groaned. "That's what we're afraid of."
The table erupted into light laughter, the earlier tension easing just slightly. Jon caught Rhaegar watching the exchange with quiet amusement, though his gaze drifted back to Ned, who remained composed but distant. Whatever history lay between them, it had not been forgotten.
Lady Olenna, who had been silent until now, took a sip of her wine before speaking. "Well, if nothing else, the next generation of royalty and nobility certainly seems lively. That bodes well for the future, I suppose, so long as they don't cause too much trouble before they get there."
Margaery smiled. "A little trouble can be entertaining, Grandmother."
Olenna arched a brow. "Only when it's someone else dealing with it, dear."
Another round of laughter rippled through the table.
As the meal progressed, Jon found himself listening more than speaking. The conversation ebbed and flowed around him.
"Aegon," Brandon said after a moment, lifting his goblet. "And all the fine men at the table. Now that I have you all here, I'd like to announce my plans for tomorrow night."
He paused, flashing Jon a grin. "Since Aegon will soon be a married man, I've arranged a little… event to celebrate the occasion. Ned, Robb, Willas, I expect you all to join."
Brandon hesitated just briefly, his eyes flicking toward Lady Stark, Rhaenys, Margaery, and Faye. "Assuming, of course, the lovely ladies approve?"
Faye gave Brandon a small smile. "Of course. May I ask what this event entails, my lord?"
Brandon's grin widened. "Just a bit of harmless fun. A night of drinking, stories, and…well, let's just say a proper send-off into married life."
Ned sighed, already rubbing his temple. "Brandon…"
"Oh, don't give me that look, Ned," Brandon interrupted. "You may not approve, but even you can't deny it's tradition. A stag night for the groom. Nothing too wild, of course."
"Nothing too wild?" Rhaenys repeated, unimpressed. "Coming from you, Uncle Brandon, that's hard to believe."
"Wild is subjective," Brandon countered smoothly. "But rest assured, no laws will be broken, and Aegon will still be a proper prince by the time we're done."
Jon exchanged a glance with Robb, who looked both amused and resigned. Willas merely chuckled.
Margaery rested her chin on her hand. "As long as you all return in one piece and don't bring shame upon your houses, I see no harm in it."
Lady Stark, however, pursed her lips. "Brandon, I trust you will be mindful of what is appropriate."
Brandon placed a hand over his heart, feigning offense. "Always, Catelyn."
Jon exhaled, shaking his head. "Very well," he said at last. "I suppose I should be grateful you put some thought into this."
"Grateful?" Brandon grinned. "You'll be thanking me before the night is over, nephew."
Rhaegar observed the conversation, an amused smile on his lips.
"No need to worry, my son," he said. "I will let you celebrate in peace."
Jon turned to look at him. "No, I…"
"It's alright, Aegon," Lyanna assured, smiling. "Your father and I understand. You should spend some time with your uncles and cousin."
Jon hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Thank you."
Brandon clapped his hands together. "That's the spirit! Now, no more worrying, no more solemn faces. Tomorrow night, we drink, we laugh, and we give our prince the send-off he deserves."
Robb smirked. "Just try not to get us all thrown in the dungeons, Uncle."
Brandon scoffed. "Please, I've never been caught."
Ned groaned, rubbing his temple again. "That's not reassuring."
The table chuckled, though Jon could see Faye watching him carefully. He gave her a small nod, silently promising that he wouldn't let Brandon's antics get too out of hand.
Rhaegar lifted his goblet. "Then it's settled. To Aegon, and to his upcoming marriage."
The others followed suit, raising their glasses. "To Aegon," they echoed.
Jon took a sip of his wine, feeling the weight of the moment settle over him. A stag night with Brandon Stark. He had a feeling this was going to be an evening he wouldn't soon forget.
