The Weatherbees

Dorian awoke in a haze, confusion clouding his senses. Slowly, he surveyed the room, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings.

As his gaze trailed down, he realized he wasn't wearing a shirt, and to his surprise, his injuries seemed to have improved. The throbbing pain he had grown accustomed to had dulled.

Wondering where he was, his thoughts immediately turned to Lillian. With a swift motion, he sprang to his feet, his eyes scanning the room. His shirt lay neatly washed and cleaned next to the bed. Grateful, he swiftly donned it, his heightened senses picking up distant sounds—laughter, people talking, and approaching footsteps.

Lillian suddendly entered the room, and relief painted her expression. "You're awake!" she exclaimed, her eyes alight with joy. Dorian observed her—she wore an oversized beige gown, her hair wrapped in a messy bun, and yet, she looked stunning.

"Where are we?" Dorian asked, turning away to survey the small room.

"Well, you almost met your end, and we needed help," Lillian explained. "The Diviner guided us to this family who saved your life."

"So we're not in Pyralon?" Dorian inquired, a tinge of anger coloring his voice, perplexing Lillian.

"No, we're not. But does it really matter? I—"

"The instruction was to go to Pyralon," Dorian grunted, turning to face her and closing the distance.

"Instruction? We couldn't reach Pyralon. The weather had other plans, and we fell off the horse," Lillian said, matching his steps until they stood inches apart.

"Long story short, I saved your life. You should be grateful," Lillian retorted, her anger evident, her face forming a frown. Unbelievable, she thought, he was simply unbelievable.

"Well, in your own words, I didn't ask you to save me," Dorian growled dangerously, his face mere inches from hers. Her sapphire eyes exuded anger, and for a fleeting moment, he found her adorable, but he promptly pushed that thought into the recesses of his mind.

"Unbelievable," Lillian scoffed.

"Let's go," Dorian suddenly said, striding toward the door.

"And what makes you think I'm going to leave here and follow you?" Lillian replied, crossing her arms over her chest.

Dorian halted, then slowly turned toward her. "You can stay," he said with a smirk. "Send my regards to Tywin when his men finally find you."

Lillian glared at him. She understood his attempt to intimidate her, and, begrudgingly, it was working. Despite his insufferable demeanor, she couldn't deny that he seemed like a better man than Tywin.

"Are you coming?" Dorian asked with a smirk

Lillian pouted as she stomped over to where he stood close to the door.

"Fine. But we'll thank the Weatherbees before we leave. After all, they all helped save your life. If you can't be grateful to me, at least be grateful to them," Lillian stated, her gaze unwavering.

Dorian nodded, opened the door, and Lillian walked out.

Inside the small living room, the Weatherbees sat, surprised, as Lillian walked out with Dorian.

Patricia stood up with a warm smile. "Glad to see you're awake. How do you feel? You must be starving. I'll get something to eat," Patricia offered, her willingness to help evident.

Lillian, appreciating the family's generosity, gently stopped Patricia as she approached. "There really isn't any need for that," Lillian said, taking Patricia's hands in hers. "Thank you so much for all your help," she expressed with a warm smile. "Thank you all," Lillian added, turning to Herald and the children. "But we really must get going," she strained.

"You're welcome, dearest. We were happy to assist you," Patricia replied kindly.

"Am I ever going to see you again?" Arya, standing beside her mother, asked, her eyes watering as she stared at Lillian. Lillian had grown quite fond of her over the past two days, and her heart ached as she looked at her.

Walking over, Lillian hugged Arya. "Yes, I promise we will," she replied with a comforting smile.

Dorian cleared his throat, capturing everyone's attention.

"Thank you all for helping save my life. If you ever need anything, my doors are open at House Firebane," Dorian said gently, yet with an air of authority.

"House Firebane? As in Lord Firebane?" Herald asked in shock, staring at Dorian. "M'Lord," Herald said, bowing down, and the rest of the family followed suit.

Lillian looked at them, realizing that Dorian must be a significant Lord if his name was so easily recognized.

Dorian nodded, acknowledging their show of respect. "Yes, that's correct. Lord Dorian Firebane," he affirmed with a measured tone.

The Weatherbees seemed even more astonished, and Patricia spoke up, "M'Lord, it's an honor to have you under our humble roof. We're just simple folk."

Dorian offered a genuine smile. "The honor is mine to have been aided by such kind-hearted souls. I won't forget your generosity."

Lillian, standing beside Dorian, felt a mix of gratitude and concern. She interjected, "We truly appreciate everything you've done for us. If circumstances were different, I would stay and express my gratitude in a more substantial way."

Patricia nodded understandingly. "May the Diviner guide you on your journey. If ever you find yourselves in need, know that you have friends here in the Weatherbees."

With a final round of thanks and farewells, Lillian and Dorian left the cottage.

As they stepped outside, the sunlight greeted them, casting a warm glow on their path.

********

In Tywin's grand parlour, he occupied his armchair near the fireplace, the flames casting both heat and light in the dimly lit room. Night had fallen, and Tywin indulged in his favorite pastime—drinking wine from his goblet. After all, who could ever get enough of wine?

"Sire, Raynes.. is dead," one of his men announced, head bowed, afraid to meet Tywin's eyes.

Tywin emitted a low grunt. He had valued Raynes; he was a man who consistently got the job done, but today, he had failed.

"Dead?" Tywin questioned, his tone low, hinting at his rising anger.

"Yes, Sire," the man replied, trembling.

"And you thought coming to tell me this information instead of running away was a wise decision?" Tywin asked, his tone deadly.

"I'm loyal, Sire. My loyalty forces me to," the man replied, his voice trembling, body shaking lightly.

"Hmm... And Lillian?"

"Gone, Sire, with Lord Firebane," came the response.

Tywin turned to the fireplace, ignoring the man, his face contorting with rage. Days had passed since the tournament, days since he had seen Lillian, and he was...𝗙𝗨𝗥𝗜𝗢𝗨𝗦!!

In a fit of rage, Tywin seized the dagger concealed within his robe and skillfully launched it at the man. It struck him square in the eye, and he crumpled to the floor, lifeless.

The door to the parlour swung open, and a servant entered.

"Dispose of him and summon Ballour, the assassin. I have a job for him," Tywin declared dangerously, before turning back to the fireplace.