Chapter 22: Judge

Lyanna:

The Golden Hall was large and loud.

And so much gold, she looked up to see it twinkling from the oddest places. She was half surprised to find the plates and goblets on their tables were not made of gold. She sat at a table of honor, or she had been told it was, by one of the Lannister servants who ushered them here.

She was aware that when she was admiring the hall others were admiring her. Lyanna could feel their gazes on her and her dress. Remember this, she thought scornfully, I will not be wearing another one anytime soon. She turned her attention away from those guests and back to those at their table.

They were seated at one of the smaller tables in the hall. She wasn't sure if that was an honor or a slight. Across from her sat her brother's closest friend, Robert Baratheon, the Lord of Storm's End. He was tall and large even when sitting down. When standing he was well over six feet. His hair was black and long and his blue eyes shone bright. His face was clean shaven. He was quick to smile and eager to laugh.

She had met him once before this trip when Robert visited Winterfell last year with her brother. Lyanna hadn't paid him much attention as she was more excited at having Ned back from the Vale. She had wanted to spend time with him and not this Stormlord, who was a stranger to her.

Lyanna did remember one thing about the man during that visit. He had gotten some girl in the Vale pregnant and had received the news from Lord Jon Arryn while he was there with them. She hadn't been surprised, Ned had mentioned in a letter that Robert could be like Brandon at times.

A gentle way of describing his friend's nature . Though Robert had shown little interest in the servants of Winterfell or the whores in Wintertown during his stay with her family.

Mayhaps the child tempered him, she suspected, but there was little confidence in that judgment. Can a man change his nature?

"Are you not enjoying the peppers, Lyanna?"

She looked up to the woman who was sitting on Robert's other side. A woman who she had only heard in passing. Whether it was a brief mention in one or two of her brother's letters or in overhearing a conversation Ned had with Robert when they were in Winterfell. The beautiful Maiden of Starfall, Ashara Dayne.

"I am not," Lyanna answered bluntly. From the corner of her eyes, she saw her brother didn't seem keen on her truth telling, but she paid him no heed.

Ashara did not take offense to her answer. She smiled, "They are not for everyone."

"Agreed," Lyanna pushed the remaining peppers on her plate with her fork to the side. This course was too hot and spicy to her liking. She had liked some of the tart fruits that had been served earlier, but not this offering.

Ashara Dayne is my brother's worst kept secret , Lyanna thought with some amusement. He sat across from her, and his attempts to look indifferent or non suspicious when he was around the Dornish beauty wouldn't fool a blind man.

"Not all Starks have that Dornish appetite, Ned," Robert grinned wolfishly.

Her brother frowned, before dipping his head while muttering something.

Ashara took the jest with a smile before swatting the Stormlord who sat beside her.

Robert took it in stride, "Forgive me, my lady," but he was laughing all the same. "However, I do have good news that perhaps will put me back in your favor."

Ashara arched an eyebrow towards him, "Do tell."

"It's done, Ned!" Robert nearly roared out the answer unable to contain the delightful fervor that spread across his face.

"What are you-"

Robert was too excited. He interrupted her brother before he could finish his question.

"Land, Ned," Robert answered, "It's done, I've got land for you in the Stormlands."

"What?" Ned gaped at his friend.

"Truly?" Ashara was equally surprised.

Lyanna felt something cold coil in her chest at this reveal. She had always thought her brother would return home, return north once he was done fostering in the south. She never thought he'd stay south.

"I got the letter from Storm's End, from my maester," he waved his hand, "Cresson, I think." His smile dimmed, when trying to recall it, but it brightened once more. "It's done, letters have been written, favors made, agreements given," he went on. This wasn't a tone of boasting, but one of droning, who sounded bored by all the endeavors that had been undertaken for this to happen.

"It doesn't matter." he finished at a part where there was clearly more that could've been said. "You'll have your own keep, and you'll be a lord." He then held out his thumb and forefinger, "A small lord, but an important lord, all the same," he laughed.

"Robert?" Her brother was still trying to comprehend what his best friend was saying.

"It's taken care of, Ned, all of it," Robert was still smiling, like his name day came early, but it was him who was giving the gifts, and her brother the one recieving them. And this was a generous gift to be given.

"It's all being written up at Storm's End, thank the gods for maesters," he finished. "I can't recall the spot on hand, but it shouldn't be too far from Storm's End, and if it is, well, I'll just give you the land in between so you'll be closer," he japed.

"Robert," Ned's grey eyes reflecting his dismay, "I-I don't know what to say."

"This is a great gift, Robert," Ashara was just as taken aback by the Lord of Storm's End gesture.

Robert took their reactions without pride, but with eyes flickering with hope. "You told me, Ned," he said slowly, "That," he paused before looking first to Lyanna, but then Ashara, but her brother nodded, and that seemed to give Robert permission to continue. "You said Lord Dayne didn't think a northern match was either feasible or profitable to his family's interest."

"He did," Lady Ashara said in a tone that was sharper than her family's famous sword. Her pursed lips showing her thoughts on her brother's judgment on the matter.

"So what if your holdings were in the Stormlands?" Robert went on, "We talked about it before."

"We did," Ned agreed, but his tone was difficult to gage, "But that was just talk, Robert." He was looking at his friend in quiet astonishment.

"Well, I talked too," Robert didn't seem to notice his friend's reaction. "To Lord Arryn and others and it was possible with some help from our generous hosts," he gestured with his head to the Lannister table where Lord Tywin Lannister sat quiet and imposing beside his beautiful wife, the Lady of the Rock.

Lyanna looked between her brother and his best friend. She felt an invisible string tug at her heart, a selfish pull, at understanding what this could possibly mean.

I'm going to lose him to the south permanently. Lyanna looked down to see she had mushed one of her Dornish peppers with her fork at the idea of it.

She found her throat suddenly dry and helped herself to some of the wine that had been given to them. The taste was sweet with a little tartness, but she didn't complain. She drained half her glass while looking over the brim to the others at her table.

"Robert, this is."

"Wonderful?" Robert stood taller than most men, but the thought of being close to her brother made him as giddy as a boy.

She put her glass down, and could not help but find the trait endearing at seeing his genuine love for her brother. To her chagrin it made her a little less annoyed towards him.

"What of Father?" She asked suddenly unsure if it was the fear of losing Ned that made her puncture the mood at the table or the wine. The latter was something she was rarely allowed to drink and usually only a cup and that was during special feasts.

"Father," Ned blinked as if just remembering him. He turned to her, but she did not see disappointment or annoyance in his expression when their eyes met. He then flickered towards Ashara, but hesitated before answering.

In that, she thought, he was going to say something that the Dornish beauty did not know.

"Will not object, Lyanna."

"What?" She then realized her brother's hesitation had nothing to do with Ashara, but with her. "What are you saying?"

Ned's lips pressed together. "That father is grateful for the friendships I've made in the south and that he would not object to the possibility of me staying here if it could be arranged," He paused. "In a manner that would respect our family's standing and equal to what I could've gotten in the north as a second son."

"Ned," Robert broke through the sibling's conversation, "You sly wolf!" He was chuckling, clearly impressed at his friend, and equally oblivious to the awkwardness that was hanging between brother and sister.

She should not have been surprised by father's decision. Lyanna knew Father was pleased and impressed with her brother's friendships with Robert, Jaime, and Prince Daeron. One was the Lord of Storm's End, one would be the next Lord of Casterly Rock, and the last was a Targaryen Prince who would be named the Prince of Summerhall.

Why would Father risk jeopardizing those friendships by keeping her brother in the north? A cold voice whispered inside her. In the south they could be further cultivated and strengthened.

Lyanna understood it all. Father would approve if Ned was given a seat in the south, a holdfast similar to the small one he would've received in the north as Brandon's bannermen.

"When were you going to tell me?" Lyanna's mouth twisted. Her question came out more as a hiss than a whisper. It did the part of quieting Robert's celebration. There was a small, selfish part of her that took satisfaction at quelling the stormlord's elation.

He sighed. "It was not likely, Lyanna." A flash of something flickered over his face when he closed his eyes. "I did not think…"

Lady Ashara ignored decorum to reach a hand across the table to squeeze her brother's. His change was immediate, raising his head and sending her a small, but thankful smile which she returned.

"I… ugh," Robert said uncomfortably, "I did not mean offense, my lady." He bowed his head to her.

"You did not give it, Lord," Lyanna found herself replying. She would not fault Robert for trying to help her brother. If anyone was to apologize it should've been her, regretting her selfishness at how she reacted to news her brother clearly welcomed if it meant it he could be with the Lady Ashara.

"I am happy for you, brother," She forced herself to smile hoping it did not look like a grimace, but it evidently did not since her brother returned it and wrapped an arm around her and pulled her into him.

"You can visit you know, Lya," he murmured from where his head was resting atop hers.

"Perhaps," she offered in an uninterested tone, before hugging her brother fiercely, "But only if you write and beg me too."

"I will. I'll even add tear drops to the letter," He replied dryly.

Lyanna snorted, "Very well."

He then kissed the top of her head before turning his attention to the woman across from him. "Ashara?" His voice uncertain, "What would your brother say to it?"

She did not answer right away, looking to be thinking it over. "I think," she began, "I think he would approve," flashing Ned a bright smile. "He complained before that a castle in the north would be pointless and offer little due to the great divide between our lands," her mouth betraying her thoughts on her brother's opinion, "But a castle in the Stormlands," Her violet eyes glimmered, "He'd be a bigger dolt to refuse."

"I will write the letters tonight," Ned decided, smiling widely.

"You are a Stark," Ashara reminded him. "An old and powerful name that should not be denied or ignored wherever you end up." She squeezed his hand which she was still holding. "Do not confuse my brother's foolishness, Ned, for your unworthiness."

"Of course not," Robert thundered, puncturing the mood between his friend and the Lady Ashara. He sounded insulted on Ned's behalf. His tankard hitting the table, "I'll write to him too, Ned," He saw that her brother was going to protest so he pushed forward, "No need to thank me, Ned."

Ned's lips crooked upwards and his grey eyes could not hide his amusement for his friend. "I would never, Robert."

That got a laugh out of the Lord of Storm's End. "A toast, my friend." He insisted, "On the possibility of the Starks of the Stormlands, " he proposed.

Ned chuckled, raising his tankard and meeting his friend's. "Aye, I could drink to that, Robert."

Lyanna and Ashara followed and their glasses met and the four friends drank to the possibility. She found the wine's tartness had lessened upon seeing how truly happy this news made her brother.

I am happy for him, Lyanna could not deny that, but it still hurt at thinking of losing him to the south for good. She had cried when Father had told her that Ned was given the honor of going to the Vale to foster with Lord Arryn. Lyanna had hated Father for it, not understanding why he was separating them. Mother had always said, the wolves are strongest together, so why would Father send one of them so far away?

"What's all this?" Prince Daeron Targaryen was standing behind Robert. He was smiling when he took in the sight of his friends before him.

"It's for Ned, Cousin," Robert answered. "He may become a Lord in the Stormlands."

"Truly?" The Targaryen prince turned to Ned for confirmation, who offered it with a slight nod.

"Ah," The Prince wasn't smiling, "My condolences, Ned. I hear the Lord Paramount of the Stormlands is a real arse." He clapped Robert on the back while he laughed.

He was not alone in his jape, Lyanna found herself laughing as did her brother and Ashara. Robert too, took his cousin's jest with a laugh that nearly drowned out all theirs. "Careful, cousin, I'll be your liege lord too." He wagged a finger at him.

Prince Daeron held up a hand in peace. "No need to remind me of my good fortune." His lilac colored eyes than fell on her, "Lady Lyanna," he inclined his head towards her.

"Prince Daeron," She replied dutifully, not needing her brother's warning look to know she needed to behave especially around a guest as important as a Targaryen prince.

She still found it odd that Ned had befriended a prince. Lyanna had read and heard of the fabled looks of House Targaryen, but it was still a different feeling to actually look at one of them.

There was an ethereal quality in his appearance that could not be captured in pages or stories. Silvery hair and lilac eyes sounded silly or strange, but in seeing him, she thought it made him anything but. He was handsomely dressed in black and red silks. A ruby three headed dragon brooch pinned to his tunic, while a single dragon head made in silver kept his cloak in place, said cloak the same color as a maiden's blush.

The Blood of the Dragon, she remembered Maester Walys' teachings on the royal family.

"Where is Prince Viserys?" Ashara inquired.

The Prince's smile was easy and friendly. "He plucked up the courage to ask Princess Arianne Martell to a dance," He turned his head to where the young prince and princess could be seen dancing. When he turned back to face them, he was no longer smiling. "I have actually come to check on you, my lady."

"Me?" Ashara asked, surprised.

"Aye, my lady." He confirmed gravely, "I've come to see if you've recovered."

"Recovered?" She repeated.

"Yes, surely you're still reeling at the tragedy that we are not to be betrothed," His lilac eyes sparkling with mirth, flashing her a grin.

"Ah," She responded over the guffaws of Robert. Lyanna smiled, and it turned into a laugh when she saw how her brother was reacting to the jape. "I did recover, my prince," she said sweetly, "T'was a heartbeat of regret, which has been followed by endless jubilee."

The Prince chuckled before taking a seat on his cousin's other side.

Even in the north, King Aerys and his troubles were well known. She knew in the beginning Father was cautious of having Ned close to one of Aerys' sons since the King's behavior the past few years was unpredictable. Maester Walys had assured her father that such caution wasn't needed, and a Stark close to a Targaryen should be welcomed and not questioned. Father relented to the Maester's counsel.

He does not look or act volatile or mad like his father, observing the Prince who was speaking to Robert and Ned about something. While it was said his father was spiteful and cruel, Prince Daeron was friendly and charming in her limited interactions with the Targaryen Prince. She even heard Princess Elia speaking to Ashara that the Prince had allowed his betrothed to train with a sword.

Not just allow but helped her, Lyanna could not help but be envious of that. She knew the Prince was a good swordsman. He won the fabled Valyrian steel sword Dark Sister in a duel against his older brother, the Crown Prince Rhaegar. Lyanna would not forget the letter her brother had sent them back at Winterfell, recalling the sparring spectacle between Targaryen Princes.

Cersei Lannister is a lucky woman, she thought, to have a betrothed and then husband, unbothered if their wife learned sword skill and even to encourage such a practice. Father allowed her certain freedoms, but she was not foolish enough to think such practices would last forever. Especially now that she had flowered and letters were beginning to come more frequently to Winterfell, pursuing the chance of a possible marriage with her.

They write to my father, but its my hand they want. She didn't think that was fair. Its his voice I must adhere even if its my life. She frowned down into her empty goblet, remembering some tried to console her by saying: that was the way of things.

Lyanna had scoffed at that answer. Why should I follow the same path just because those before me were too stupid to question such things.

"Lady Lyanna?" She blinked up to see the others at the table were looking at her.

"Yes?" She didn't know who to address since she was unsure who had called her name, but she smiled in the polite insipid way she saw other ladies do when they were befuddled or surprised.

It was Prince Daeron who replied to her. "We were wondering if you'd be interested in another ride tomorrow?"

She instantly perked up at the invitation. There were so many surrounding hills and plains to explore. She found all the green that encompassed the land much more beautiful than all the gold that was hoarded within the castle. Not to mention the chance to spend more time atop a horse instead of in a dress.

"Yes, I would love to," She then turned to her brother, "If Ned allows it?" She made sure not to make a face at that word. Lyanna hadn't thought it fair that her brother was her keeper on this trip, but Father had made it very clear.

Ned smiled, as if reading her thoughts on the matter. "Of course."

"Thank you," She said dutifully, but it was sincerely meant. "Will you be carrying Dark Sister with you, Prince Daeron?" Lyanna had been sorely disappointed that he hadn't brought it with them on the previous ride.

"Will I need it?" He asked, amused not by her, but the unexpected question.

"I hope not, but I'd like to see it," she admitted honestly. "It's a very famous sword." She left out the part where it was believed to be made for a woman and not a man given its shape and build.

"Then you may see it, my lady." He said kindly. "And if most of Ned's stories about you are true, I'll let you try it too."

"Thank you," Lyanna was unable to keep the eagerness out of her tone or expression at his answer. She had only seen Ice before in regards to valyrian steel swords and Father wouldn't let her hold it. He barely let her touch it, the few times given the chance.

Prince Daeron took her reaction with a growing smile, inclining his head to her. "You are welcome, my lady."

"The Lady Cersei is very fortunate to have you as her betrothed, my prince," She meant every word of it.

"I shall inform her of that blessing the next chance I get," Prince Daeron replied, "But you should know that I am not alone in the sentiment," He tapped his cousin's arm, "Robert believes it as strongly as I do."

That surprised her. "Really?" She turned to the Lord of Storm's End, who looked caught off guard at the sudden turn of attention towards him by his cousin and her.

"It is, my lady," he cleared his throat, "I'm letting my daughter, Mya stay at the Water Gardens as Prince Doran's guest. With permission given that when she is older she be allowed to participate in any martial training if her heart desires it." His blue eyes shined for the girl. "The truth is I shouldn't be praised for it," he admitted, "Silks, songs, laces, and music, I do not know those things," He shrugged helplessly, "But swords and steel? Aye, that I do know so why not let my daughter and I share something together."

"We need to find a Dornish maid for you, Robert," Ashara offered.

"Perhaps, but the two best are already spoken for," he replied.

"Aye, they are," Ned was quick to agree. It earned him a lovely smile from the Maiden of Starfall.

"I would like a wife and daughter who I can know and understand," Robert turned back to Lyanna, "Someone to ride with, to hunt with, even spar. So you see, my lady, I do it for my own selfishness."

"My cousin ever so modest," Prince Daeron praised, "Though, it would be a sight to see your daughter try to wield that bloody hammers of yours," he japed, getting a smile out of his cousin, which then turned into a rumbling chuckle.

"It's not that heavy, Cousin." Robert nudged the prince with his shoulder. An informal act that she had seen between her own brothers more times than she could count.

"Well, its not as heavy as you."

"Careful," Robert's voice was all mirth and no malice. "Your precious white cloaks are too far to intervene before I can shove you off this bench, my prince."

Lyanna was laughing along with her brother and his friends at the entertaining argument unfolding between the Lord of Storm's End and the future Prince of Summerhall. She saw the glittering amusement in Robert's blue eyes, that and his infectious smile only highlighted the lord's handsome face. His booming laugh had a way of bringing all those around him into the same cheery disposition that he so easily carried.

"Speaking of wives, where is your betrothed, my prince?" Lady Ashara asked once the laughter had subsided.

"She is cross with me at the moment."

"How did you botch this already, Cousin?"

"We had an argument," He answered plainly.

"Over?" Lady Ashara asked.

"Ah," The Prince's new smile was all show, "I will not divulge, my lady." His tone was measured, "That is unless you acquiesce to a dance?"

Ashara's violet eyes looked him over in silence before she accepted with a soft dip in her head. "Very well, my prince." She stood gracefully from her seat.

"Oh stop, scowling Ned." He didn't even need to look over at his friend to see it. "Will you do your prince a favor and dance with my betrothed?"

Ned did not hide his surprise at the request. "Me?" His eyes betraying with a quick glance who he really wanted to dance with.

"Yes, soothe her over," He said it as if it was a simple task to do, "And I shall be rewarded for your endeavors," A sly look passed over the Prince's face at his next words. "That'll allow me to relieve you and dance with her while you'll have to take my place."

Lyanna did not miss the flash of understanding that flickered over her brother's grey eyes.

"Very well, my prince," Ned stood, looking out to where the Lady Cersei Lannister was.

"A wolf's not afraid of a lion, Ned," Lyanna teased him. Pleased, when her brother smiled and nodded.

"Aye, we're not," He agreed before setting off to seek a dance with his friend's betrothed.

Prince Daeron took Ashara's hand and guided her to where the dancing was. The band of minstrels were playing a tune that she did not know, but the music was lively and it earned a great cheer from some of the Westerlands bannermen which made her think it was one of their favorites.

It was only her and Robert. Their little table felt increasingly smaller with just the two of them. If the Stormlord thought the same, he did not say it, drinking from his tankard in silence. His blue eyes roaming the hall.

Looking for wenches and servants, she suspected, but was proven wrong. His eyes were not on any of the comely servants that moved between the tables, refilling drinks and serving the next course. They were on the Dornish table.

"You're doing a good thing for your daughter, my lord," Lyanna spoke up.

One of those comely ladies had come to their table to fill their cups. She was fair haired with a coy smile, and Lyanna did not miss how she tried to catch the Stormlord's eye.

Robert's reputation precedes him, she thought unkindly.

The Lord of Storm's End didn't give the servant a second look after giving his gratitude for refilling their glasses. "Thank you, my lady." Robert replied politely. "If you'll excuse me," He moved to stand up, and then bowed his head to her. "I see Prince Doran unattended, and I wish to speak to him."

"I understand," Lyanna was surprised by this reversal and found herself missing that charming Stormlord who could make her brother smile so easily, and whose laugh was as infectious as it was loud. "Lord Robert?" She called after him.

He stopped and turned in her direction, "My lady?"

"If you insist upon being my brother's friend," She said softly, "Then I suppose I'll allow you the privilege to call me Lyanna."

That got him to smile, and his blue eyes shone brightly. "An honor I will treasure, Lyanna. "

Daeron:

The Lannisters are generous.

He looked out at the lavish spectacle sprawled out before him.

Daeron was not foolish enough to believe it was benevolence that was behind his future good family's actions.

No, this was a display of their power, their wealth, their influence.

Nor did he miss his spot within the spectacle. Seated high so that all in the Golden Hall could see the Lannisters' greatest treasure in the form of their betrothal with a Targaryen Prince.

I'm more valuable than all this glittering gold. He looked down at his half filled glass and the thoughts that stewed within guided him to finish his wine in a single sip.

His family has married into many of the Great Houses of Westeros including Arryn, Baratheon, Martell, and Velaryon. As well as smaller houses including Plumm, Penrose, Blackwood, and Dayne.

Now another can be added into such lofty company, he thought wryly. His eyes were on the quiet servant who was kind enough to refill his drink without staring.

He saw Jaime and Elia at their private table. In a crowded hall, they seemed content in the belief that they were the only ones in it.

Daeron was impressed that his friend could put any food in his mouth the way his eyes were constantly on his bride, or his hands, or his lips.

He smiled, pleased at his friend's happiness. Whatever his reservations on the Lannisters, he had none for his friend, Jaime.

Can I be this happy with my bride? He mulled his question over another sip.

"Prince Daeron?"

"Yes?" He turned to see her eyes were on him. She was beautiful and elegant in her crimson dress.

Between them sat Tyrion, a boy of seven. His attention on his plate where the food looked more to be played with than eaten.

"I was thinking that when we reside in Summerhall," she began, and he did not miss the inflection change with a single word or the flicker in her emerald eyes. "That we would need a new standard."

"Indeed," He had come to a similar conclusion.

"I thought a standard of a dragon with a lion to be ideal," She proposed with a hopeful gaze.

He frowned, but hid it behind his wine glass as he took a sip to gather his thoughts.

The Lannister lion with my family's dragon. He knew of the Lannister's pride but for them to make such a proposal was stunning.

It was my family that forged these Seven Kingdoms. His eyes found his family's sigil, large and black it hung proudly. The red three headed dragon monstrous in size that inspired awe and dread in equal measures.

He knew Princess Rhaenyra quartered her sigil to represent family's lines and allies, but this was not that. Cersei would have a lion and dragon together in a new banner as if the Lannisters were equal to his family. A dragon and lion in combatant, but he saw the picture for what it would be.

What was a lion to a dragon? He mused, A dragon has no equals.

"Our standard will have a Targaryen dragon," He said slowly, "But there will be no lion." He put his nearly empty glass down. The gall of his future good family in pushing for more.

They had the gold, now they wanted the dragon, the blood- Me.

He scoffed, and I was not even their first choice.

That bitterness roiled in his belly feeding the growing annoyance he found at the Lannisters in their efforts for wanting more. They do not stop.

"My family is of royal blood," He said simply. "A lion is not equal to a dragon."

Her smile dipped. Something angry and ugly passed over her face in response. "I see," Her voice was tight, "If you'll excuse me," She turned to an oblivious Tyrion, helping him out of his seat. "I promised my brother a dance." She lifted him into her arms and swept away from the table an angry sway of red silks and gold laces.

Daeron watched her go and was not inclined to follow.

My wife, he toasted her, draining what was left of his glass before putting it down in a display to show it was empty. The sweet taste was pleasant, helping to soothe his agitation.

The servants were quick in reaction as another came forward to fill his glass, and he thanked them with a nod, and was pleased that they did not linger.

He was not foolish. He knew that his castle was being built by Lannister men and funded by their gold, but it was the price they had to pay if they wanted a prince for a husband. They paid it happily and quickly. They were eager in wanting to form ties between the families.

That should be reward enough.

His eyes had followed his betrothed who was dancing with her brother. Tyrion was in her arms as she guided him through the steps. There was no trace of anger in her face, her eyes glowed and she gave him nothing but smiles and kind words as they moved together.

Daeron rubbed his eyes. His annoyance had receded somewhat in the face of how she handled herself with her brother. However, he knew beneath that veneer of his future wife lurked a fiery spirit that had him more enamored than anything.

I've just been seared by it. And he knew it would not be the last time. She's as proud as they come, but the admission made his lips twitch. We shall have our share of rows, he thought due to their pride and stubbornness which they possessed in great quantity.

He put aside the thoughts on his betrothed and that of his argument and turned towards his brother, whose attention was on the guests instead of the food on his plate.

Or guest, he corrected with a growing smile to see Viserys had his eyes on the Dornish Princess, Arianne Martell, Elia's niece and heir to Prince Doran. They were of the same age. However, while Viserys was a third son, she was the first daughter of the ruling Prince of Dorne.

I shall get my brother his dance, he then scanned the hall until he found what he was looking for. Or who he was looking for. While I am in need of my own distractions.

"This is marvelous."

They were on a private beach on the Sunset Sea. It was only accessible through a tunnel and a series of stairs that would not be fun to climb back up when they were done. A secluded strip of sand that gave the Lannisters all the benefits but with none of the hassle of interruptions.

The sun's orange glow was fading, but its rays touched the waters to have them glistening with color.

They had slipped away from the wedding after a rather stiff dance between himself and his betrothed. The idea and invitation having come from Cersei.

Viserys had let out a cheer when they arrived. He had hastily removed most of his fine garments to swim in the shallows with an equally eager Tyrion. Both brothers were warned by their elder siblings to be careful and not foolish.

Ser Gwayne had the misfortune of having to be the one to stand closest to keep a watchful eye on the young prince. He removed his boots, socks, and his pale cloak before moving in position. Ser Arthur stood on guard at the beach with a handful of Lannister guards who came as escorts for Lord Tywin's children.

Daeron had elected not to swim. Instead, he walked some of the beach. His betrothed at his side with Ser Barristan trailing them. They did not go far, both wanting to keep an eye on their brothers. The only sounds were that of the gulls above and of the laughter of Viserys and Tyrion, as they ran and splashed amidst the small waves.

"I am glad you like it, my prince," She replied formally.

His eyes were looking past his betrothed to where Viserys had dunked his head when a waved passed over him. His brother emerged from it spitting water to an entertained Tyrion.

Her tone pulled his attention back towards her. She looked breathtaking, he thought, her golden hair was caressed by a gentle gust. Her hairnet was bejeweled with emeralds and rubies that sparkled when the fading sun hit the gems. Daeron had heard some within Castlery Rock call her the Light of the West, and seeing her here, he found it to be a fitting title.

"You spoke sincerely to me and I was unkind," He admitted, "And for that you have my apologies." He saw that his words had her attention. "We are to be man and wife, and I'd wish to hear your words." She was watching him silently but her gaze did not linger, it drifted towards their brothers playing in the ocean.

"There will be no lion on our banner," He repeated his earlier words, and saw the expected and angry reaction it got from her, but before she could argue, he pressed on. "You may not take my name when we marry, but our children will be Targaryens. You will be the mother of dragons." It felt odd to speak of such things that seemed so far into the future, but he thought they should be said in fairness to what was ahead of them.

"And we will have them be proud of that blood, and that of their mother's."

She quietly thought on his words. "I would like that, Daeron. " Her lips smiling when they said his name.

"I am glad, Cersei," He returned her smile, and offered her his arm which she took as they walked back towards their brothers. "I wish for true words to be spoken between us, in all things. Could you give me that?"

"I could." The glow of fading sunlight behind her made for a mesmerizing sight. The smile she wore as she watched her brother so happy and carefree felt warmer than the setting sun.

"I wish to thank you."

It took him a heartbeat or more longer to respond than he should've needed, distracted by her beauty. "What for?" He recovered.

"I cannot speak of what sword skills I have or may learn, but you will always have my appreciation," She told him. "You gave me a choice, and that means more to me than the sword you put in my hand."

"It will not be the last one," he assured her, understanding her sentiment.

She surprised him when she stopped, but before he could ask why , she leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss upon his mouth. Her lips lingered for a few heartbeats before she pulled away. Her eyes were shimmering and the small smirk that touched her face showed her own satisfaction of what had just transpired between them.

Ser Barristan cleared his throat from where he stood behind them. Reminding the pair that they were being watched and what was expected of them.

That did not dim his smile. "My lady has my thanks for such a tremendous gift."

Cersei laughed, squeezing his arm. "My betrothed will find that I can be quite generous ." Her voice was soft, but the alluring promise beneath her words did not go unnoticed.

The thoughts that conjured played far too quickly across his vision. In those seconds that followed, he felt Ser Barristan's eyes resting on the back of his head. The knight was resolute in his duties.

Daeron felt it would be wiser to change the topic otherwise he may find himself amidst temptation and trouble. He asked about her family and the beach, and knew it was the right question. He was rewarded with a retelling of several stories all of which involved one or both of her siblings and the adventures and games they would play. She smiled throughout it all, her tone conveying the cherished memories she had of her brothers and the fun they had. It was clear how much she loved them both, and he found the smile she wore when speaking of these times more charming than any of the seductive ones she had tried before.

"What of you?" She asked when she finished.

He didn't answer right away. He looked out onto the Sunset Sea, its waves glittering like sapphires while the sun showered a ruby light onto the water. Her stories while wonderful, brought a painful pang within his chest at the reminder of just how different hers was from his.

"Forgive me," she seemed to sense his disquiet, "You do not-" she stopped when he raised his hand.

"A scene or two sometimes comes to me of Rhaegar and myself," he quietly confessed, "we are younger, perhaps Viserys' age, maybe a little older. I don't remember the game we played, but we were happy. Or I like to think we were." His eyes found his younger brother who had playfully fallen backwards into the water after losing what looked to be a pretend duel against Tyrion.

"However, the truth is I do not know what I am seeing are actual memories, or dreams that I once conjured in the dying hope of my older brother wanting to be with me," He felt her hand slip from his arm, before taking his own where their fingers clasped together.

The solemn reflection was broken by the sound of his brother's voice. "Dae!"

He turned to see his brother's hair was wet and wild, but he was grinning.

"Yes, Viserys?" He felt his own smile at seeing his young and playful brother looking so happy.

"I need to tell you something."

"Tell me," From the corner of his eye he could see an amused Cersei watching quietly.

Viserys shook his head. "It's a secret."

Despite his better judgment, Daeron approached his brother who was still in the water, wading in the waves. He should've slipped off his boots and socks at least, but he did not. The tide rushed to greet him, reaching his shins before it receded. He saw Ser Gwayne standing near while Tyrion was on Viserys' other side. His mismatched eyes following his movement with an alertness that didn't seem right for a seven year old.

Viserys was now within arms reach. The water was below Daeron's knees. He preferred not to linger, but in the back of his mind, he knew the truth of why Viserys had brought him so close. So when his brother pulled back his hands and then slapped them forward, bringing up water in a large splash, Daeron could only laugh when the cold, salty water drenched his face and the upper part of his tunic.

He was not the only one, he heard the light laugh of his betrothed, who was standing safely on the beach. A chuckle escaped Ser Gwayne, his sworn shield, who did not look the least bit bothered that his charge had just been attacked.

"That is some secret, brother." Daeron brought the back of his arm to wipe away the wetness across his face. He looked down at Viserys who was smiling up at him. "But alas I have my own secret to tell," Daeron quickly grabbed his brother, who responded with a giggling protest that turned into a surprised squeal when he promptly tossed Viserys. He made a spectacular splash several feet away.

Despite the cold and being wet, he joined Viserys not because he didn't suspect anything, but because he did.

I am not Rhaegar. I will not let Viserys have my childhood.

Viserys' head bobbed up, laughing as he pushed his hair out of his eyes. "Again!" He said before he even began to swim back towards him.

"Me too!" Tyrion insisted. He was standing beside Daeron. The water was over the boy's waist.

He hesitated, the boy was older than Viserys, but he still held some quiet concern about obliging him. The resolve of that concern was quickly tested by how the boy's mismatched eyes were looking up at him. "That is up to your sister."

"You have her approval." She was walking into the tide. Her red dress swirling with the water. She was still a few feet from them.

Tyrion looked pleased and delighted, but Daeron wasn't sure if it was because she agreed or that she was joining them.

Daeron had not missed the look that accompanied her answer and he'd respect the unspoken request from her. "Very well," He plucked Tyrion before the boy could blink, but he did let out a joyful shout when he hit the water. He had been more careful in his throw but was still relieved when the boy surfaced, laughing, water pouring down his cheeks. He wiped his eyes to protect them from the salt.

"Again!" His hands slapping the water excitedly.

"Me first!" Viserys had reached him. He was pulling on his arm.

Tyrion was coming to them. Cersei carefully at his side in case he struggled. She was watching him closely, but her vigilance did not soften her look or the fondness in her eyes.

He remembered the stories Cersei told of her time with her brothers along this beach, and Daeron was thankful that Viserys would be lucky enough to have one of his own.