The trip from the Westerlands to the Riverlands was more somber compared to when they first traveled this way, or so Lyanna thought.
She herself was not in a bad mood. Far from it. If anything, perhaps for the first time in her short life, the girl was more contemplative than anything else. She was looking forward to seeing Winterfell again, but that wasn't all. There were many things that had been on her mind for several days now, from the strange dream she had had to her newfound….relationship, for she had no better term to use, with Daeron Targaryen.
Lyanna had not spoken of the dream to anyone. She didn't know what to say to bring it up or to whom. How could she put the dream into words that did not sound foolish? That she dreamed about a talking crow? A crow which had three eyes?
It was crazy! She had been there, and Lyanna still thought that perhaps she might be going mad due to everything that had happened at the tourney.
Lyanna had been able to take her mind off the strange dream mostly thanks to Daeron and their conversations. He was fun to tease.
Once she started to pay attention, Lyanna realized that there were many rumors swirling around the young prince that she had not been aware of previously. Many of the lords were eager to wag their tongues when they thought no one was listening about their opinions on the Targaryens, and they had plenty to say.
They said that the king was just giving his third son away to the North due to his incompetence. They said that his marriage to Lyanna was a punishment for being a failure compared to his two older brothers, that there was no real loss in Daeron marrying her.
The lords who held these opinions mostly came from the Reach and the Riverlands, so naturally her opinion of these lands soured.
Lyanna was able to overhear many of these conversations thanks to Winter. There were many moments when she closed her eyes or slept that she imagined herself as Winter, stalking the tourney grounds. Lyanna thought that it was just more strange dreams, like the many she had had in the past, but then she noticed too many similarities between her dreams and the real world for that to be the case. For example, if she witnessed a certain lord spilling wine on his clothes as Winter, then later she would notice that same stain on the same lord. Or if she dreamed about going hunting as Winter then later she would see that Winter held that same prey in her teeth when she next saw her.
It worried Lyanna, but like her dream about the crow she kept quiet about it. She was too scared to bring it up, not knowing what was happening to her. She kept her mind off these occurrences by trying to piece together why the lords had such a negative outlook toward Daeron.
Brandon gave her the answer before they left Lannisport after she asked.
"They say that Prince Daeron was not chosen by the dragons. When Rhaegal first returned from the North with the dragons, everyone in the royal family bonded with one, but not him. Many took it as a sign that Daeron is inferior compared to his brothers and his sister."
Lyanna was confused. That was it? That didn't make any sense! She knew next to nothing about dragons, but if they were anything like her Winter, then she knew that they could be unpredictable. Besides, Daeron had a dragon now, didn't he? What did it matter that he had been "rejected"?
When she raised these points, Brandon chuckled as he ruffled her hair, much to her annoyance.
"Don't take it to heart, sister. These southern lords like to gossip just as much as they like to pretend they're doing something of importance. They want to find any minor fault that they can. It is not too different for us, but the royal family is looked at with more scrutiny than anyone else. Such is the weight of the crown."
Lyanna was hating the south more and more. If she married Daeron, was she going to be made to live in the capital when she was older? To be scrutinized by these same lords for not being a "proper southern lady"?
Her father alleviated her fears when he spoke to her and her brothers the day before their departure from Lannisport.
"Prince Daeron will become the Prince of Skagos when he comes of age. The Targaryens plan on establishing a new keep on the island. I don't know the full details, but it's possible that Prince Daeron will become the head of a new branch of the Targaryen line in the North."
Benjen had understood the significance of their father's words. "So Lyanna will become the Lady of Skagos?"
Their father had given them a nod. "Precisely. The North and the Iron Throne will be intertwined forever after."
Lyanna was dumbfounded but also giddy. She was going to be the lady of an entire island? Of Skagos no less? The island that was said to be full of mystery and wonders if Old Nan was to be believed? Of legends like the unicorns? Furthermore, she was going to be away from the eyes of her father and everyone else to do as she pleased? Lyanna knew from her conversations with Daeron that the boy did not have a problem with her interests. Her desire to hunt, to horse ride, to take up the sword. He did not talk down to her and thought less of her for it. If anything, it seemed that was the reason why Daeron had come to hold an interest in Shaena in the first place, because she did not behave like a typical southern lady, although he still did not come out and admit it.
That was another thing Lyanna struggled to wrap her head around. She could not fathom holding romantic interests in her own siblings. She respected Brandon, admired him to a certain extent, but to marry him? It made her sick to think about.
She knew that the Targaryens were different, though. She also knew that Shaena desired her own brother, but it still confused her.
On the other hand, Lyanna felt slightly guilty over her own thoughts during her stay at Lannisport. Now that she knew about the unfair stigma that Daeron carried, she felt terrible that she had compared him to Rhaegal and Rhaegar. It felt like she was bullying him even though she hadn't actually done anything.
Her mind was still weighed by it, and it worried her. She did not want to act like the ignorant lords who thought they were right to judge Daeron over something so silly.
All that being said, Lyanna felt lighter by the future that was being presented to her. She had always feared being sold by her father to some lord who would not care about her own interests and only wanted her to play the part of a "proper lady." Daeron held no such expectations for her. She was also going to rule an entire island by his side to do as they pleased. There would be dragons and direwolves to join them too.
'Perhaps marriage won't be so bad.'
While Lyanna accepted her role more and more, the situation at large was still more delicate.
For one, the Northern contingent was following the Tullys and the Riverlords who had come to the tourney, breaking away from the lords of the Vale in the process. Elbert did not ride with them and instead accompanied his fellow Valemen back to the Eyrie. His absence was felt the most by Ned who was already struggling to cope with what had happened to Robert. Lyanna knew that Brandon held Elbert in high regards too, so he was also not fully pleased by his absence. Unlike Ned, though, Brandon remained steadfast and stood by their father's side since it looked like it was their father who made the conscious decision to split away from Elbert and the other Valemen.
Her father also made a point to publicly announce the betrothal between Brandon and Catelyn at the tourney days before it ended. While it did not carry the same impact as her betrothal with Daeron, now the realm was aware that the North and the Riverlands would hold close ties moving forward.
During their trip, the old and decrepit Lord Frey drank and jested many times that House Stark was making connections everywhere they went. What made it worse was when he suggested a bride for Ned and the younger brother of Catelyn, saying that he had plenty of daughters to go around.
Lyanna did not know how her father was able to maintain his composure around such a man. She would have tried to feed him to Winter if she thought he would make a good meal for her friend. She was severely tempted to do that to several of the man's sons and grandsons when they tried approaching her during the journey. She did not know what they wanted to speak with her about, but the looks in their eyes always made her feel uneasy.
One growl from Winter was enough to make them keep their distance. Seeing their terrified expressions always pleased Lyanna.
The Freys made the days drag out more than they had any reason to, and Lyanna was very thankful when they finally reached the gates of Riverrun. At the castle, they were greeted by the beautiful but frail looking Lady Whent and her son, the four-year-old Edmure Tully. There was another boy with them that Lyanna did not recognize, but she did not have the desire to ask about him when she just wanted some privacy.
By this point, Ned was looking a bit more lively. He spent most of his time with Grey Storm. Her older brother had made a point to meditate many times throughout their journey. No one tried to stop him.
Lord Tully was gracious enough to assign proper rooms for them all once again. Lyanna was looking forward to relaxing by herself, but she found that difficult as flashes of the three-eyed crow came to her mind over and over again. There were times when she thought that maybe someone was watching her too, but unfortunately she was unable to prove it.
"I have to tell someone about this, Winter," she said softly to her faithful companion who licked her cheek affectionately.
Lyanna was thankful for the reassurance, knowing that it was Winter's way of saying that she stood by her.
That evening, Lord Tully prepared a small feast for them to once again commemorate the future union of Houses Stark and Tully with many of their bannermen. Lyanna bore witness to the happy mood that was prevalent in her fellow Northerners throughout the evening, although there was also some mock concern mixed in.
"Will the lady be able to adapt to the North?" one questioned after drinking many cups of wine, his cheeks flushed.
"We got nothing but the cold and the Wall up there!" another proclaimed as many laughed.
Lyanna knew that these words were said in jest rather than any actual criticism, but she could tell that Catelyn did not appreciate the comments when she overheard them.
Thankfully Brandon came to her defense and said that Catelyn would prove a worthy wife for him and their house and that she was made of "sturdier stuff."
"The cold should fear her!" he finished as he raised his mug, causing the Northern lords to cheer in support.
Lyanna wanted to gag when she saw the look the two shared after. It was full of affection, similar to the looks that her parents sometimes shared with one another.
'Ugh, when did Brandon become such an idiot?'
Lyanna wanted to shake him, to snap him out of it, but deep down she was happy that her brother was content with his future partner.
She also noticed the boy from earlier storming out of the Great Hall after hearing Brandon's words.
'What's his problem?'
Lyanna didn't give it a second thought.
After the feast started winding down and many of the lords collapsed from drinking too much, Lyanna and Winter found their way back to her room. Lyanna was not headed there, though. She was going to Brandon's chambers. If there was someone that could perhaps understand what was happening to her, then it would be him. Thankfully, her brother had left the Great Hall after sharing a dance with Catelyn while many joined them. It was fair to say that the two had become the center of the feast for most of the night, and Lyanna could admit to herself that the two made a great couple.
She just didn't want to see them keep making weird faces at one another.
Her chambers were right next to Brandon's, and so Lyanna was able to easily locate Brandon's room. She expected to find the door closed. It had been a long day, and perhaps Brandon wanted to go to bed early for the night. Except that the door to the room was ajar, and Lyanna could hear two voices coming from within.
Gesturing to Winter to not make a sound, Lyanna tip-toed her way to the crack of the door where she was able to just barely make out the figures of Brandon and Ned. Frost and Grey Storm were inside as well. The two wolves were resting next to each other in one corner of the room while the two brothers faced one another.
"-about the future," Ned was saying, his expression oddly serious.
Brandon sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. "You looked like you were going to die on the way here, and this is the decision that you've come to?"
Ned grimaced but held firm. "I must make amends to father and you for my behavior. To Lyanna as well. I was too blinded by my affection for Robert to behave properly. All things considered, the situation ended as well as it could have. Lyanna still has her betrothal, and the North will be able to prosper."
"You cannot take blame for the actions of another, brother," Brandon scolded. "Robert made his choices."
"I know." It looked like Ned was in pain admitting to that, but he admitted to it all the same. "It's not about him. This is about me. I'm the second son. Winterfell will be yours, brother. Then it will belong to your children and their children. There is no future for me there. I was already thinking about what to make of myself even before this incident. Now the choice has become more clear to me."
Brandon was silent for a few moments before sighing again. "We can speak to father about this when we return to Winterfell. You're still young, Ned. There are more paths in this life than you might think. Our little sister will leave for Skagos one day, and she will need people she can trust."
Ned smiled. "She's tough, you know."
"And that worries me," Brandon murmured. "For all we know, she might eat the poor prince alive."
The two shared a laugh much to Lyanna's annoyance. She pouted.
'I wouldn't eat anyone!'
That sounded gross.
As their laughter died down, Brandon spoke again.
"We can continue this later. Right now, it seems like I have another intruder who wishes to speak to me."
Lyanna knew she was caught when both Brandon and Ned turned their heads to the door while Frost and Grey Storm raised their heads.
Pouting again, Lyanna pushed the door open the rest of the way as she and Winter stepped inside.
"How did you know?"
Brandon shrugged. "You're not as quiet as you think you are."
"I think your skills are becoming worse, Lyanna," Ned added with a small grin. "I remember you being better at sneaking around when you were younger."
Lyanna didn't like the sound of that, but before she could complain Brandon gave her a knowing look.
"So? Is there something troubling you, sister?"
Lyanna looked between her two older brothers. She had planned on only talking to Brandon about this, but there was no harm in letting Ned know too, right? The more heads the better, right?
Coming to a decision, Lyanna nodded as she closed the door behind her.
"There's something I must share with you…."
---
Lysa felt refreshed after her bath. Spending so much time on the road and seeing new places was always fun, but she missed the comforts of Riverrun all the same.
What made this trip all the more memorable for her was the fact that it was the first time that she had left the Riverlands and could remember it. Lysa had vague memories about the tourney at King's Landing from four years ago. The one thing that stuck with her the most was the smell of the city. To be honest, she was in no hurry to go back to the putrid place.
'But Catelyn has her beloved. What about me?'
If Lysa had her wish, then perhaps she would wed one of the handsome princes. If it meant putting up with the horrible smell of King's Landing, then so be it.
'At least the princes don't think Catelyn is better than me,' Lysa thought with some resentment.
She had been growing increasingly annoyed with all the attention her sister had been getting lately. It was Catelyn's betrothal that their father gave special care to while there was no talk about what was to become of her future. Even when they both traveled through the Riverlands to accompany their father on his duties, it was Catelyn who always received more attention from the lords and other men.
Lysa was not blind. Despite her young age at one and ten, she knew she was smart. She was also observant. Catelyn was prettier than her, but that did not mean that she was worth any less, right?
Perhaps a prince was what she needed to finally escape from her sister's shadow.
Lysa tried to not let these thoughts plague her mind and readied herself for the feast. Her mother came to help her, something which Lysa appreciated. While Catelyn might have their father's attention, their mother shared her love equally with them all.
For the feast, Lysa wore one of her favorite blue dresses. She knew that Catelyn would be wearing white to honor the Starks. It would make Lysa stand out more.
"Did you have fun at Lannisport?" her mother asked gently as they walked hand-in-hand to Edmure's chambers.
"Mhmm!" Lysa happily nodded. "We saw the dragons! They were huge!"
Minisa didn't look nearly as excited as Lysa. "Is that so? What about your uncle?"
"Uncle Oswell?"
"Yes. Since the king was there, I'm sure he must have attended too."
"He did! He gifted us with some flowers and said that we were beautiful enough to be Queens of Love and Beauty."
Lysa felt particularly proud of that moment she shared with her uncle. If there was one thing that she could agree with Catelyn on, then it was the glamor of knights and knighthood. She was able to see many of them thanks to the tourney, and it was amazing. The fact that she was related to one of the famous Kingsguard only made Lysa feel more pride, a feeling which was shared by her sister.
Her mother smiled this time. It made her more beautiful if Lysa was honest.
"I'm glad."
Their conversation ended there as they reached Edmure's chambers. Thankfully her younger brother was already dressed with the help of the servants. From there, they met up with father and Catelyn who were in the middle of a conversation. Unfortunately, Lysa was unable to hear what it was about, but it must have been serious given the determined look that was on her sister's face.
As they stepped into the Great Hall of the castle, Lysa wondered where Petyr could be. He had been present to welcome her and everyone else to Riverrun, but Lysa also remembered her friend being angry over the Starks, something which annoyed Lysa too. She knew why her friend was angry. Despite the fact that they had practiced kissing many times, it was not Lysa who Petyr yearned for.
The feast was mostly boring for Lysa. She noticed Petyr arriving late while giving some excuse to her father, to which he just waved away. No doubt her father was more interested in the Starks right now rather than Petyr.
Lysa also noticed Petyr leaving the feast early after Brandon shared some words about Catelyn and how tough she was.
Lysa wanted to follow him, to talk to him. It had been weeks since their last talk. However, she was unable to sneak away as her parents, mostly her mother, kept her in their line of sight all night. It was only when Edmure began to get sleepy and mother was forced to step away to take him back to his chambers that Lysa found her chance to sneak away.
She left the Great Hall just as Brandon and Catelyn were in the middle of another dance with many others joining them, mostly Northerners. The Northerners could be loud, and when it came to feasting they knew how to let loose.
It took Lysa longer than she would have liked to find Petyr. He did not return to his chambers, so she had to get creative and think about where her friend might be. Fortunately, the godswood happened to be right next to the Great Hall, and when she made her way through the grove she found Petyr standing by his lonesome in front of the weirwood tree.
The sight of the tree always unnerved Lysa, especially with its sad and deformed face. She still did not know how anyone could carve such a face upon the tree. More strange still that anyone could worship it. The religion of the North was always strange to her.
"Petyr!" Putting the tree out of her mind, Lysa called out to the boy as she ran up to him.
Petyr turned to face her, and Lysa was immediately met with his stormy expression. The boy was younger than her, and Lysa never felt afraid in his presence. But in that moment, something akin to dread entered her heart. Her excitement dwindled when she saw just how angry he was.
It did not take long for her to understand why that was.
"You came to escape from the feast?"
"Your father made it clear that my presence is not important enough to matter," he replied bitingly.
Lysa had to wince as she carefully walked closer to the boy. "Father wants to make sure that everything will go okay with the Starks."
"Yes, so I know." Petyr turned to the weirwood. "I came here to curse the Starks. Perhaps their gods would hear my plight."
Lysa did not think that would work. "I didn't know you cared for religion."
"I don't, but there's nothing wrong with trying."
Lysa wanted to console him, but she was also angry. Once again, it was Catelyn who was stealing the attention away from her. Why was Petyr like all the rest? What did her sister have that Lysa didn't?
Before she could speak up, a low bark, almost like a growl, rang off behind them. The two turned their heads and were greeted by a third visitor walking through the godswood of the castle.
'Benjen.'
Lysa was able to recognize the young Stark right away, having traveled with him. He was a year younger than her, but he was already taller than her. Probably something to do with what the Northerners ate.
The sight of the Stark boy caused Petyr to click his teeth in annoyance.
Benjen on the other hand looked apologetic when he noticed them. His dark direwolf walked beside him like a shadow. Lysa was always fascinated by the sight of the animal. The direwolf had dark fur unlike the rest of his siblings, something which Lysa found strange. Since they were siblings, shouldn't the wolves all look similar? Lysa did not know if it was because of his direwolf or it was just the boy's preferences but he liked to wear dark colors which matched his wolf's fur. Even tonight, dressed finely as he was, he wore all black.
"Oh, my apologies," Benjen said as he bowed his head. "I did not mean to disturb."
Lysa did not mind. "There's nothing to fret over, Benjen. You came to get away from all the dancing and the cursing?"
Benjen looked slightly abashed. "Something like that. Brandon has always enjoyed all the feasting more than I. And I wanted to clear my head and offer a prayer to the Old Gods before retiring."
"Many prayers are being offered to your gods tonight, Lord Stark," Petyr spoke up. Lysa was slightly alarmed by the mocking tone in the boy's voice. She did not want to know what would happen to Petyr if her father found out that he was being disrespectful to one of Lord Stark's children.
"I wonder if they shall be answered."
Benjen either didn't pick up on the mocking tone or did not care as he shrugged lightly.
"I cannot answer for my gods. I can only put my faith in them."
"Quite." He bowed his head but only ever so slightly. "I'm feeling tired myself. I will leave you to it."
Lysa panicked as Petyr walked out of the godswood without so much as a goodbye to her.
Benjen watched him go before turning to her with another apologetic look.
"I must apologize again if I was interrupting something, Lady Tully."
"No! Nothing!" Lysa waved her arms, panicked all over again but for a different reason. "The journey took a lot from me, so I was thinking of retiring as well after getting some fresh air."
"And you came to the weirwood with Petyr?"
Lysa was taken aback. She did not think that Benjen remembered Petyr's name. Sure, Catelyn had introduced him to the Starks before they left for Lannisport, but that was weeks ago.
"I sometimes come here for some peace and quiet," she admitted after not knowing how else to respond. She was no longer afraid of the direwolf, and so she did not tense as Benjen took Petyr's spot next to her with the direwolf beside him.
Benjen smiled at her. It was comforting for reasons that Lysa could not understand. Actually, the more she looked at the boy, the more she came to realize just how much his eyes shone in the night. His eyes were sharp, yes, but also delicate, carrying a hint of laughter in them that made Lysa's stomach flutter.
"And you pray to the weirwood tree? I thought only the Blackwoods held faith in the Old Gods in the Riverlands."
"W-Well." Lysa's cheeks reddened. "Not exactly. I hold the Faith of the Seven in my heart."
She wondered if that would disappoint him.
Benjen didn't seem to mind as he nodded.
"I see."
He went quiet as his eyes studied the face carved on the weirwood tree. While Lysa found disgust in the visage, the boy seemed to find peace and comfort.
Lysa did not understand, and yet she remained where she stood. It was not the first time that they were sharing a conversation, but it was the first time that they were alone. Though Benjen did not do anything particularly special, she was able to find some semblance of peace from all her fears and frustrations as she stood next to the young Stark. For the first time, the weirwood tree did not seem haunting to her but almost soothing.
Lysa began to understand something at that moment: there were more interesting people in this world than she realized. From the wolves to the dragons, there were many enticing people for her to meet.
In light of such thoughts, Petyr seemed much smaller in comparison to her.
---
Elia woke up that morning to break her fast with her brother and her good-sister, as had become her new schedule for the past few weeks. Her beautiful niece was probably still asleep at this hour. Her brother and good-sister had been lucky to have a child who did not fuss as much as some other babes, or so Elia had heard.
Unfortunately, she was unable to know of that experience for herself as of yet, but she tried not to dwell on such thoughts.
Elia also tried not to think about her mother as she stepped into the windowless dining room where the rest of her family was already seated and eating.
'Not all of them.'
Oberyn was still in Essos, and her uncle was with the royal family. She still had one cousin who lived, but the man was too much like Doran and took his duties seriously. As the castellan of Sunspear, Manfrey usually ate his morning meal early and began his work soon after.
"Good morrow, sister," Doran greeted her with a small smile which was shared by Mellario. However, right away, Elia was able to tell that her brother's smile was slightly strained, which instantly put her on edge.
Nevertheless, Elia reciprocated their smiles as she made herself comfortable on the cushions laid out for her. She enjoyed the breeze the flew through the brightly colored drapes.
"Another happy morning I take it?" Elia said as she looked at the meal laid out for her. There were eggs, stuffed peppers, flatbreads, and all sorts of fresh fruits.
"It has been peaceful," Mellario replied.
Doran gave a small nod. "Quite."
Elia was in the middle of reaching for some of the fruit when she noticed a letter placed on the table between her and Doran.
"News from our brother?" It was her best guess.
"Not so." Doran was not happy that Oberyn had not been reached yet, but he and Elia could give their youngest grief about his absence letter. "A raven arrived earlier this morning. From Lord Toland."
Lord Toland? Now there was a name that Elia did not expect to hear this morning.
"What does he want?"
Doran's face hardened as he handed the letter to her.
"It's about the tourney at Lannisport. And the incident that occurred."
Elia was confused. "Something occurred at the tourney?"
"Yes. Something that does not bode well for us, sister."
Rather than explaining the situation to her, Doran gestured to the letter.
Of course he wanted her to read it first.
Although slightly annoyed, Elia did as her brother wanted and took the letter before reading through it. Lord Toland gave his customary greetings and explained how he was one of the Dornish lords who traveled to the tourney to catch a glimpse of the dragons. He then continued to outline the surprising duel which took place between Robert Baratheon and Rhaegal Targaryen.
It took longer than Elia wanted to admit for the words to truly sink in.
"Robert challenged the crown!?" she raised her voice as she nearly dropped the letter in shock.
Doran offered her a firm nod. "Yes. All because of an infatuation for one Lyanna Stark, the daughter of Rickard Stark. The same daughter who is now formally betrothed to Daeron Targaryen."
Elia placed the letter on the table as she nursed her head. There were other details in the letter that made her head spin, such as the Valyrian steel armor which Rhaegal wore to the duel and his subsequent appearances in the tourney. Combined with everything else that Elia knew about the Targaryens, it was painting a clear picture of the future.
A part of her didn't want to believe it, though.
"That is…."
"Impossible?" Doran shook his head. "I would not bet on it. Lord Toland is a trustworthy source, sister."
Mellario looked at both siblings with a curious expression. She was hearing of this for the first time too.
"What do you think will happen to the Baratheons now? If the king is as vain as I've heard-"
"Robert will be stripped of his inheritance." Doran did not bother to mince his words, which made Elia flinch as she understood the gravity of the situation. "That will be the least of the king's demands. He will no longer be the heir to Storm's End, which will invalidate our agreement with Steffon Baratheon."
"Do you truly think so?" Elia did not know why she was asking. She already knew the truth for herself.
"You've read the letter, sister. Rhaegal Targaryen has maimed Robert. After such a shameful display, do you think the Baratheons will risk the ire of the crown by keeping Robert around?"
Even though nothing was formally announced, Elia knew that that would probably end up being the most likely scenario. No doubt the Baratheons would soon send a raven of their own explaining the situation to them.
"Does that mean that Elia will now be betrothed to a much younger boy?" Mellario inquired. "I remember you saying that Robert has a younger brother."
If only it were so simple.
"Stannis Baratheon already has a match in place," Doran said, somewhat bitterly. "I doubt they will turn their backs on it."
Elia could not believe that this was happening. "Brother, if you had been there-"
"Nothing would come from it," Doran cut her off with a shake of his head. "I would not have fought for Robert's sake. Not after he disrespected us so. Tell me, sister. Would you be happy being with such a man? One that would toss you aside for some Northern girl?"
No. Elia did not need to think about it. Whether intentional or not, Robert had insulted her. He had insulted all of Dorne by trying to break the betrothal between the Targaryens and the Starks, all because he held affections for the girl.
But Elia was not blind either. She could be practical too. She knew how important of a match this was for their family, how much their mother had worked to secure an alliance that could give them a connection to the Iron Throne.
What was to become of them now?
The question must have shown on her face because Doran was already speaking again, cupping his chin in thought.
"No one expected a match between the North and the Targaryens. Now that the Starks have tied themselves to the throne, the rest of the North will follow. If this is any indication, then perhaps Rhaegar already has a match set in place for him as well."
Elia didn't know. There was no indication of it, but it was not as if she had been aware of Daeron's betrothal either. Who knew what else she didn't know.
Ashara suddenly came to her mind, but Elia suppressed thoughts of her childhood friend for now.
"While we might not be able to secure a match through you Elia, we have other options open to us," Doran said as he gave his wife a knowing glance.
Mellario began to understand. "Arianne? She is but a year old!"
Elia held affection for the woman, but unfortunately there were times that Mellario did not understand the customs of Dorne or of Westeros, such as the political necessity of using one's children for gain.
"The king has two other sons near her age," Doran explained, his voice softer. "Prince Jaehaerys is only two years older than Arianne. And Prince Viserys was born the same year that she was. Perhaps it was destiny."
While Doran sounded confident, Elia felt trepidation about her brother's new plan. Would the king allow one of his sons to become a consort for Arianne?
"It would be more beneficial if one of them bonded with a dragon too," Doran continued. "Rumor is that there are still three unclaimed dragons on Dragonstone. A dragonrider could become the Prince Consort of Dorne and rule by Arianne's side. That dragon would become a sign of strength to all in the realm. It would signal our status not as afterthoughts but as a kingdom to be feared. It's very possible that one of their children could then bond with it. Imagine if the dragon is female and it can lay eggs. We could become a house with dragonriders."
Elia was not convinced. "Brother, even if the king were to agree to wed one of his younger sons to Arianne, do you think he would allow them to claim a dragon?"
Her brother was dreaming too big. At the very least, Elia was confident that Rhaegal would never let that happen.
Mellario seemed more open to the idea. "My grandchildren, riders of dragons." She smiled. "That does sound quite exciting even if the beasts are said to be terrifying."
Doran seemed happy by her acceptance before he turned to address Elia.
"We must try, sister. As our mother said, these are changing times. We cannot afford to be left behind. Oberyn is a friend to Rhaegal. Perhaps he can help to convince him. Besides, the Targaryens already rejected us once. Can they do so again?"
Elia did not believe that it was as simple as Doran was making it out to be. Rhaegal knew his history. He would not allow another house to become like the Velaryons. If Oberyn were here, then he would no doubt agree with her too.
Before she could correct her brother, he changed the subject.
"There is also a discussion to be had about your future now, sister."
Elia's words died in her throat as she realized that her brother was right. She was a free woman once more. Her betrothal to Robert was gone. While she held so special feelings for the Baratheon, a part of her had already been accepting of her future at Storm's End.
Now that was taken from her as well. Where did that leave her?
Doran placed his hand over hers as a sign of comfort.
"We will decide on the best course of action. Together. But I will not lie and say that I do not have some thoughts on the matter that I would like to share with you."
If it was anything like his plot to wed Arianne to a dragonrider, then Elia had no high hopes. Jests aside, she was willing to hear out what her brother had to say. If she were lucky, then it might give her a new perspective.
"What did you have in mind?"
Doran smiled.
"What do you think about the Daynes?"
---
The bath was relaxing. The water felt nice in her skin, and all the scented oils were enough to put Ashara in a comfortable mood. It was not an exaggeration to say that the Red Keep had the nicest baths in the realms, with only Casterly Rock and Highgarden as rivals.
Unfortunately, she was not able to enjoy any of it as she stared into the angry eyes of Shaena Targaryen.
Ashara did not cower. She knew this was something that need to happen eventually. She just did not think that it would occur so soon. A part of her had also hoped to have Rhaegal here, but that would be cowardly of her. Ashara wanted a chance to defend herself through her own merits, not using Rhaegal as a shield.
She was only thankful that a dragon could not fit in here.
"Well? Are you going to talk or not?" Shaena said. Her face held no affection or playfulness.
"Where would you like for me to begin? When Rhaegal and I were children?" Perhaps Ashara was being too sardonic with her statement, but she could not help herself. It was not as though she wanted to be in this exact situation either. In a perfect world, it would only be her and Rhaegal planning their future together.
"Don't use that as an excuse!" Shaena shouted as she stood from the bath, unashamed of her nudity. "Rhaegal and I are connected through more than just emotions! But through blood and tradition!"
"Then are you not angry with him?"
"Of course I am!" Shaena admitted. "I'm angry at both of you! But I was not going to cause a scene. Not there, not with the damned Lannisters. More than that, I want to know how far you've gone to shame me!"
"We haven't crossed that line!" Ashara retorted as she rose from the tub as well. She was taller than the younger girl, but that didn't seem to make a difference to Shaena. "I remain a maiden!"
"Then why could I smell you all over him!?"
"Because!" Ashara hesitated for a moment before admitting the truth. "We've done other things."
"Is that supposed to be a comfort?" Shaena's voice was full of scorn. "To know that you've had the decency to wait while coveting what is rightfully mine? My brother? My crown?"
Ashara frowned. "I want to be queen just as much as you do, Shaena."
"Ha. Then why else would you have played this elaborate ruse on me?" Shaena's eyes narrowed. "I knew you felt something for him, but I thought you were smarter than to act upon it. To betray me."
"It was no ruse!" Ashara exclaimed with growing anger. "I did not come here seeking to be with him. I wanted to be closer, yes. To be friends. But I never planned on acting upon my emotions! I was prepared to let my feelings die, but then Rhaegal accepted them. He accepted me. It was then that I could no longer hold myself back. And you're wrong, Shaena. He does not plan to cast you aside."
"To take a second wife, is it?" Shaena's laugh lacked any humor. "How convenient for you. You would so happen to become queen if that were to take place. You're not a Targaryen. Why would that be okay with you? No, why should I allow it?" Shaena crossed her arms. "I may not care for the damned throne, but that's different for my children. I will not let you endanger their place in the realm."
Ashara felt guilty at that moment, because she knew that she held similar feelings. The Iron Throne was not something she coveted for herself. She did not care to be queen. She just wanted Rhaegal. If he left the throne for Rhaegar, her feelings would not change. It was irresponsible, but she could not change how she felt.
However, it was a different story for her children. She knew it was a delicate situation to be in, which was why she accepted Rhaegal's restraint. Why she also restrained herself. She did not want to endanger the lives of her future children. If she had to wait to make sure that Shaena secured an heir for Rhaegal, then so be it. Ashara did not want to play a role in creating what could only be called a Second Dance. Except perhaps due to her recklessness, she was doing just that.
Shaena was not so accepting of it, however.
"Make no mistake, Ashara. I have not fed you to Azurax because I know that Rhaegal will be saddened by your death."
Shaena's eyes glistened with tears, but they were not happy ones. They expressed her hurt and anger. Some of that was no doubt aimed at Rhaegal, but right now it was being aimed at her.
Ashara felt like crying too. "Do you really mean that?"
"I do."
"Then why talk to me if you've already made up your mind?"
"Because I wanted to see what you would try to say in your defense. What excuses you would make."
Ashara laughed, also bitter.
"There are no excuses, Shaena. I have hurt you. I tried telling myself that I deserved my happiness too, but in doing so I knew that I was also hurting but did not stop. I was selfish. Nothing I can say will change that."
"That only makes it worse!"
But it was the truth. She and Rhaegal were being selfish. They could justify it in so many different ways, but that truth would not change.
"You don't get to act like you're above this!" Shaena said as she took a step toward her. "Like you've gained something. You're still a thief!"
"Then I guess I am! What of it?"
Ashara was done trying to convince Shaena of anything. Even if she explained her side, it would do little good. Not because she was right and Shaena was wrong. No, it was the opposite. That was the mistake Ashara had made going into this.
"Bitch!" Shaena lost all pretense of holding a conversation as she lunged at Ashara.
Needless to say, despite the threats that Shaena had made, Ashara did not think that the girl would actually attack her.
She was wrong.
Ashara was caught off guard, so Shaena was able to easily tackle her back into the bath. It was a miracle that neither hit themselves on the tub, but neither were thinking about that as they suddenly found themselves in a wrestling match.
"You will not take what is mine!"
"That's not what I'm trying to do!"
"Liar!"
Despite being older than Shaena and having muscles of her own due to her own training with the bow and horse, Ashara was nearly overwhelmed by the princess. She was nearly engulfed in the hot water before she successfully managed to push Shaena back long enough to step out of the tub, gasping for air.
'How is she so strong?'
Ashara had no idea where Shaena had gotten her strength from. It was almost unreal.
This only gave her a moment's reprieve before Shaena jumped on her again, only this time the two wrestled on the floor of the room, each trying to grapple the other into submission. Since neither had any formal training in this, it was more brutal and raw, with Shaena at one point biting Ashara in the arm with enough force to draw blood.
Ashara did not back down as she slapped the girl. The fact that she striking a member of the royal family was lost on her.
Shaena was not fazed and started pushing Ashara's head down on the floor, trying to make her become part of it.
Ashara shoved her away again before the two screamed and lunged at the other for a third time.
It dissolved into the two shouting at the other while not backing down from their positions, all the while trying to knock the other out.
In the end, it resolved nothing.
Ashara did not know how long they spent fighting. It was already dark out by the time the two were spent, lying on the floor trying to catch their breath. It was a miracle that no one came to check in on them.
What was an even bigger miracle was that Ashara was still conscious. She had bruises all over her body from where Shaena had kicked and punched. The princess was faring much better on that end.
'If she were older, she would have beaten me.' It was a sobering thought, but Ashara was not going to lie and pretend that she had won this.
"My children will inherit the throne, not yours," Shaena said softly, still panting.
Ashara stared at the ceiling.
"I've been honest with you, Shaena," she said, her voice also soft. "I remain a maiden still."
"Then I will be the one to set the rules and punish you both."
Punish?
Ashara was too weak to question it. "You will fight Rhaegal as you have with me?"
"If I must."
Ashara laughed this time. It was a real laugh too.
"You're all fire, Shaena."
"I'm a Targaryen."
That explained everything, didn't it?
This was the mess that greeted Rhaegal when he finally returned to King's Landing with the rest of the procession.
Shaena and Ashara were able to vent their frustrations, but in the end nothing was truly fixed. Not yet.
Before that could happen, a solution would have to be found. Before Rhaegal could arrange Rhaegar's marriage, he was going to have to fix his.