[b]The Evening[/b](with [@Nightwing95]) Lysara looked at her hands once more, the third time in the lapse of several minutes, as she straigthened her back and tried to stand as regal and as composed as possible. Things were going fast-paced at court. In the span of three days, she and her brother had met the Mother of Dragons, the King of Westeros, she had been offered a position as a handmaiden to a princess, and had been asked by a prince of all things. Her brother used to say she was a rare jewel among that mercenary camp, but she never truly witnessed how much her Valyrian appearance would sway people in Westeros. Still, things were smiling for her and Seran, at long last. Despite the campaign in the stepstones. She had managed to set some time for this walk among the tasks a Handmaiden had, and she had even brought one of her best perfumes. She was even wearing her best Lysene dress for the ocassion. Some people wouldn't put that much effort in an afternoon walk, but some people never got to walk with Targayen Princes. So she sat there, in the shade of a tree. A tingling sensation of crawling appeared in her hair. At first ignored it, but it was persistant. Her hand reached the afflicted part and patted it so slightly. The culprit was found to be a small garden spider, who was now crawling all over her hand. A few ladies would have screamed on the sight of vermin, but not Lysara. She let the spider crawl through her hand, twisting it so the arachnid would not run out of sight. "Well, well aren't you a busybody." She whispered, before freeing the spider back into the tree. She couldn't meet a prince spider in hand, could she? It was amazing how quickly things could change in the span of a single day. Entering the Melee of a Royal Tourney as the least popular- and widely considered as the less bright - son of the Targaryen family meant that expectations were set low even amongst the most confident spectators. And then he walked out a Champion, proudly bearing the title of a Ser and the moniker of the Bold one, similarly to the legendary Barristan Selmy. Then, it only needed a nightly attack on the Capital to be inducted into a newly-made, yet prestigious Knightly Order as he prepared to march towards his first grand Campaign against the enemies of the Crown. Achievements followed the one after the other, but instead of falling back into his shell and decide how to choulder them all, Rhaegar became thoughtful of his fathers words. The White Cloak was still not as close as he wished for it to be, so why not enjoy the fruits of his newfound fame while he could? Lysara as his first choice was somewhat unexpected, but not entirely so. After all, the Valyrian features didn't have the same impact on him as they did to other squires or young knights and as for the other reason...it was just too base of an instinct for someone that walked the path of a True Knight. In the end, he could point everthing to a sort of curiosity that turned into admiration when he saw her stepping before the Iron Throne that very morning and speaking out of turn. People lost their heads for much less and yet here she was, with a position close to a Dragonprincess as her handmaiden and confidant. Dressed in finery befit of a Prince, a doubled sewn with ruby red string and with black detail, he approached her with a container of wine in his hands. He felt his heart ready to burst out of his chest as he tried to remeber the advice Viserys gave him. Smile and give the girl a few pretty words, that was it. "Lady Lysara...y-you look stunning this evening." Rhaegar said, trying to do just that. Lysara looked at the young man approaching her. Tilting her head and beaming a smile, she could not help but notice he was trying to look as charming as possible. A boy pretending to be a man, in many aspects. Truth to be told, his Targayen blood almost made him succeed, but the stutter... the stutter sold it. He betrayed a lack of confidence. In some ways, that was endearing. <"The prince only deserves the very best."> She replied quickly and fluently, in the language of the Valyrian ancestors, as she drew closer towards the prince, eyeing him in the eyes. She then performed a small grateful curtsy emphasizing her figure, as she eyed the young man. His eyes were like twin spheres in the color of heliotropes as they crossed with Lysaras, and as if he couldn't fight it they lowered onto a more tantalising sight as she went for the curtsy. Quickly regretting the unthoughtful choice he made, he returned his view back to the eyes of the Lyseni. <"If I deserve something then I hope to also earn it..."> he spoke with full honesty, and although his Valyrian came out fluently, his dialect was of a different form than that of hers. He made no other move, still clenching at the carafe he brought with him. <"If you wish, you can just call me Rhaegar. There is no need for titles out here."> he added. Lysara stopped for a second, hearing the prince speaking in Valyrian. To his credit, he was better than she had thought regarding the rumours of him being... difficult with studies. The Lyseni's smile accentuated so slightly, before waving a hand through her hair. <"Then so be it, ...Rhaegar. Of course you may call me Lysara."> She added, as she allowed some space for the prince to sit besides her. <"Would you also prefer to use the common tongue, aswell?"> Her words seemed to carry a hint of mischief, as she eyed the carafe. Maybe there would be some drinking involved. She hoped she would be spared of the follery of alcohol... memories about his brother betting her maidenhood were apparent. <"Relax, you don't have to pretend here."> She added, slumping leisurely in a rather unladylike manner, her shoulders down, and her legs half stretched. Even though Rhaegar would never be a scholar, he was convinced early on by his mother to study with enough persistence to gain a good command of their ancestral language. Of course he was no match for his brother Aemon as a polyglot or even close to Jaehaerys in his flawless transition between the high and low variants while in conversation. "I am not...I only have the most honest of intentions." he said almost defensively after her comment on pretending. It was as if she questioned his chivalry-which he himself also did- and that only magnifies the irrational feeling of guilt for the thoughts he was nurturing. He placed the wine carafe near his feet, seeing as it didn't seem that either of them wwere eager to engage in heavy drinking, so he forced himself to think. H had to move the subject along or else this conversation was dead in the water. "I like your name...Lysara, it is beautiful. Did your parents wish to honor the great city you hail from when they chose it for you?" Lysara let a soft chuckle, as she sprawled her back onto the seat, yawning like an overgrown cat, and probably displaying more things than she should have. With a hint of singsong in her voice, she just added. "Oh, but you are pretending. All people in this court have to wear a mask, and yours is that one of a prince. Regal, well intended, an example to follow. But everyone... has their quirks. Even the most saintly of knights." Lysara retorted, as she eyed the young man. "According to my brother, it was my mother who chose it. In honour to the Lady of Lys." The young woman added, as if she was droning a trite old tale. "So, in a sense, you're right... Rhaegar." The young woman then deftly slipped a hand towards the carafe, producing some wine to drink in the process. As much as she was wary of the wine, one could simply not talk in a parched mouth, could they? "I won't ask where yours comes from. Everyone with a History book does know. It's still a very regal name." She chuckled once more, making a small jape. The Targaryen Prince struggled to prove her wrong, albeit to no avail. He tried to keep his eyes away from Lysaras body, so he instead decided to concentrate on the carafe. After his companion placed it back down, he followd in turn and took a hearty swing, hoping that the wine could help him salvage the situation. And it did, sort off... "You are also not wrong Lady Lysara..." he said with a shadow of a smile climbing across his lips. He truly had little interest in speaking about his grandfather, the so-called Last Dragon, lest he repeated the things everyone knew again and again. "If I do wear a mask, then what do you think I hides behind it?" "You're scared of bungling this up. Because I am probably the first woman you have ever fancied." Lysara said, a cheeky grin in her face showing pearly teeth. "You're a good kid, and you're trying to make everyone else happy. And by doing that, you think you will be happy. You know manners are not your best, so you try limiting your contact. You don't like to lie, nor know how to do it well, so in order to not be taken as naive, you do not dare to talk too much." Lysara, added. "But you've seen how you have your own good points in the tournament, and you wish to try your luck at things that up until now, have eluded you." She finished. [i]Well, more or less. I hope I am not wrong. Reading people is never exact.[/i] She added to herself. He chuckled once more, followed by a thoughtful silence that span a few seconds before he would turn to Lysara once more "Congratulations Lady of Lys, you have struck all the targets. You and my Aunt Arya would certaintly find common ground..." he said with an amused tone as he took another swing of Arbor Red. "Well then, at least I know that I offer suitable entertainment to your evening..." the way she said it, it seemed like he was already exposed by her near flawless reading. What woman, especially one as fair as her, would choose a boy over the many men that littered the Court? "It's not half bad. But I prefer playing Cyvasse." Lysara added. "And making my dear brother beg for mercy." She added, an amused giggle as she took another sip. "You're a rare gem, Rhaegar. A decent, straightforward man in a court of intrigues. I could simply say no to such invitation. You remind me a bit of that fool of a brother of mine. Although he doesn't have any redeeming talent with the sword unlike you. He just swings the thing like a rag." She added. "Your brother...you mean Seran, right? He seemed like a decent bloke to me when I saw him at court, but if he does swing his sword like a rag then the Stepstones might not be as hospitable as he thinks." he said with an amusing tone, as he peeled off his defenses little by little. Her admittance that she could say no to his invitation seemed to give new life to his hopes and expectations, even flaring up his confidence for a bit. "In that case, would I overreach if I suspected that you might...fancy me too?" he asked. "Well, you should have seen him in the throne room. Even if he complied, I know he wanted all but scream... He didn't want to go back." Lysara quickly replied. "Nevertheless, he is good at surviving. He will do well. Probably." The young woman added before eyeing the prince directly into his eyes. "To be fair Rhaegar, you're just the kind of man that someone like me would like to have at her side, even as my fair appearance withers away inevitably." Lysara replied with certainty. [i] Not to mention, you will not have an unsufferable ego, you have enough high status for my machinations, and you will be able to cut whoever points a blade at me[/i]. She added internally. "I will protect your brother if it comes to it..." Rhaegar blurted out a promise as his eyes met with Lysaras. His aspiration had been to done the White Cloak, not out of ambition to gain legendary status, but to protect his family. And now that through her answer she seemed willing to be by his side, the young Prince felt as if he was capable of holding the weigh of the Seven Kingdoms upon his back "You have my word Lysara." Lysara couldn't help it, as she initially jolted. Then from her throat a high pitched laugh rose, picturing the young prince saving Seran like if the latter was a fair maiden. She completely caved in, moving her head backwards in amusement. "You...protecting Seran... well, I won't decline such an offer, Rhaegar, but heed me. It's true that idiot has no grace at all with the sword. But... he might be capable of killing people with a single blow. Or with his bare hands. I've seen him doing it before. Back in Essos... Seran cut his way through an entire mercenary band. So don't worry about protecting him, he's a grown man." She finished, drinking more wine in amusement. His pale cheeks lit up with a dusting of red, not from the wine but instead the realised that he once again allowed his tongue to outrun his mind. It seemed that old habits didn't die easily. "He will still be my brother-in-arms, so if it happens that we fight side by side..." he tried to save it but instead opted to take his turn with the carafe. "I know you might find my question foolish, but...would you allow me to share a kiss with you?" and as he said it he knew that if Vierys was looking from a corner, he would be hammering his head on the bricks. Lysara tilted her head thoughtfully, as her mind raced, even if she wasn't outwardly showing it. [i]Eager, aren't we?[/i] She thought to herself as she took another sip of the carafe, eyes sideglancing the prince with an impish smile. "They say that there are some hallmarks that distinguish boy from man. One is to prove oneself brave." She smirked. "Both in the battlefield... and in the court. Even if they might lose." She added. "You might have won the meelee, but you're still so green in certain things. People do not ask for a kiss. They read the signs their partners do, and then move accordingly." She finished, as she drew closer to Rhaegar. "Just like this, they will nuzzle up, allow them to feel their body heat and perfume. Allow them to see their face close... and when the time is right... they go forward." Lysara added, her stare direct into the prince's eyes, her lips forming a peculiar shape. For the first time in this nightly sojourn, Rhaegar noticed the smell of Lysaras perfume,taking in what he found out to be an entrancing sensation. "So it is very much like a dance...or a duel." he remebered the teachings of Podrick,on how he had to study his opponents movements before moving in for the strike. So without any delay,he eliminated the miniscule of distance between as he claimed the red lips that at the moment found simply irresistable, with his own. There was a warmth between them as he kissed her, and all the nervousness he expressed previously melted in an instant as he softened his mouth on her. His lips lingered on hers, and then he straightened, staring into her eyes and wondering what she was going to say, if anything. Lysara just let the sensation linger for a while, before pulling backwards. A grin almost as wide as her straightforward attitude was present in her face. "Well, I must one of the best thieves of the kingdom... I managed to steal a kiss from a prince who had no intention to take a woman." [hr] [b]King's Landing[/b] (with [@MrDidact]) Even amidst the start of an ominous war, the chitchat in King's Landing never ceased. True, most of the lords with importance on their backs had departed for ventures in the name of the kingdom, but the heart of the Nine Kingdoms was far from lifeless. Indeed, to Lysara, even the vibrant and mysterious city of her ancestors seemed to be fairly insignificant when compared to the seat of power of the Targayen. She stretched her back once more, stepping to peek out of a window and admire a couple of birds flying from a perch of the Red Keep into the vast city, probably trying to gather food. Truthfully, she was thankful her bed was much better and she at least could get a proper food and appearance, besides the hastily cobbled look she had done up until now. It would not hurt, as she felt that her appearance in part, was the reason why she had been chosen over others to be one of the aides of Baella Targayen. The circumstances were a bit odd, what with herself being older than the princess, and truthfully rumours and jealousy started to spread. She even had seen the hints of buddying bullying and sabotage when she had found a single mouse in her bedsheets. It could be worse. Rats could get really big and fat in Mercenary camps, probably due to the abundance of corpses. She resumed her walk. Or at least she tried to, but she had to reconsider. Offering a respectful bow of courtesy, she immediately acknowledge the figure before her. Baella. "M'lady." Lysara said nothing more. After all, silence before those of higher station was a symbol of respect. Baella smiled, bowing her head back to Lysara and beckoning her to follow, "Ah, Lysara I was just on my way to collect you. Nymeria has invited us to luncheon and a handmaiden's place is by their lady after all." Baella intertwined her arm with Lysara's, assuming a very friendly posture as they walked through the halls of the Red Keep, those passing them by offering bows or greetings which Baella replied to courteously and graciously. With the departure of most of her brothers, their hangers-on had become hers, and she would be lying if she said she resented the attention. Baella contined to chat, "I know father and mother are seeing petitioners in the throne room but I couldn't be bothered to attend. Daenyra is with them, naturally, but it's oh so dull sitting next to the throne and hearing all of the tedious complaints and asinine requests. I am quite glad I will never have to suffer that. If there's to be such a large audience, I'd rather be playing on the lute." The Princess was a renowned musician, and had mastered several instruments already. Her singing voice was famed throughout the kingdom. "Fair warning about Nymeria. She may be married to my brother but she is absolutely incorrigible. She will immediately try to bed you. Especially with your.... build. However luckily she is somewhat discreet, and does take no for an answer, so don't be afraid to refuse her. Unless you don't want to of course." "Oh and my siblings will be there as well. Daenyra will most likely join us shortly, and my brother Jaehaerys will be in attendance. Now he will try to bed you as well. He'll be much more subtle about it, but he is perhaps even more relentless than my sister-in-law. But his saving grace is that he knows when to stop, so the same advice applies." Baella and Jahaerys were often seen roaming the Red Keep together and many in the court speculated that the two would marry but the King and Queen seemed intent on keeping their hands open in case of need for political alliances. Baella continued to list off the other guests, "Rhaenys will be there as well. She's young and bratty and will most likely try to cause some sort of mischief. Then there's Cat Baratheon, Arya's daughter. She's a bit stern, but a lot of fun once her hair goes down. Julianna, Tyrion and Sansa's daughter, will be there too. Almost sickingly sweet that one, but I love her. Alyssane, Brienne's daughter. She's cocky. With good reason. And then there's Lyanna, Brandon's daughter. You'll just have to wait till you meet her. And a whole host of others who escape me that the moment. This will be your first real social engagement so, you must be in top form dear. Some of them will be friendly, and some of them will try to test you." The veterans and nobles who had survived the Long Night had seen the value of friendship and loyalty in the face of the White Walker's onslaught, and many had fostered their children at the Red Keep in order to build those same friendships and alliances for the next generation. "But enough about that don't want to overwhelm you on your first real day. How are you faring Lysara?" Lysara was content to let herself being dragged away by the Targayen princess, who wasted no effort in being as detailed as possible in the situation. The amount of information and words piled in seemed to overwhelm Lysara at first, as she strained herself to retain as much information as possible. It would be a rare chance to get as much information as this in one go, and her lady would probably want her to act according the indications she had been given. She simply pondered for a brief moment, as she kept walking, before lowering her face slightly, obscuring her eyes with the locks of hair. "I grow restless, like everyone else. Truth to be told, this is the first time I will be separated from Seran for long. The fact that you found me wandering was me trying to perform an assessment of my surroundings, my lady." She paused, as she flicked her head upwards once more. "But fear not, my lady. Nymeria may be Dornish, but I am Lyseni. I would do no justice to my ancestors if i could not perform in this kind of environment." She added, a smile struck at the princess. Baella giggled, hiding her smile behind a pale hand and playfully smacking Lysara's arm, "Oh you're just as bad as my brothers. You'll fit in just fine here Lysara. My other girls are not so nearly as intriguing as you are. The beauty from across the sea. Reminds me of my mother's story, strangely enough. I didn't think I'd need another handmaiden but I'm glad my mother chose you. And yourself how do you feel about this position?" Lysara smiled back as she rubbed the afflicted arm with her free hand. "My lady, I can only be grateful. Days ago, I was merely scraping by. Now I could only hatch a dragon egg so my resemblance with her Grace is complete, I could die happily." Lysara japed back. If only the princess knew... Baella laughed, eyes glittering, "I wish my other ladies-in-waiting had your sense of humor. Uncle Aegon's children have dragons, and my brother-in-law Monterys' children will have their eggs hatch soon, but my parents would be so flabbergasted if another egg appeared outside of the family. But you? Scraping by? I can hardly believe it? How is such a beauty accustomed with squalor and not splendor?" The Princess had a reputation as a gossip and it was absolutely true. Lysara's smile faded out, just as her eyes became hazy, and unfocused, staring in some part of a non-existant horizon beyond the walls of the keep. "And yet, it is true. I lost my wealthy position in life when I was eleven. I never met my mother. And I've had to work for my life." She extended her hand in front of Baella's face. "Beatiful as these hands might be... they are not as ladylike as they should. They are getting better by the day, thanks to all the care I am giving them, but you can see it. The calluses and parched skin are still present in there, my Lady." Baella frowned, somehow making the expression graceful and held the hand in her own manicured and moisturized hand, feeling the calluses with her fingers and hugging Lysara more tightly to her, "I am so sorry Lysara. I didn't know. We will speak of it some other time, I can see it is painful for you. But no worries, you're with us now. You'll be pampered as befits your true station in life my dear." Baella may have been a gossip but even she knew when it was wise to not press. She would ease the details out of Lysara carefully, but no need to dig now. Baella changed the subject, grinning mischieviously, "Tell me is it true that all Lysene girls must learn the arts of pleasure?" "Hmm." Lysara added, retracting her hands. "No. It's not true. Then again, the noble men of Westeros need not to learn the arts of the sword... but they usually do, just to not be ridiculed by the rest." She added, deciding to settle with an analogy such a prying question. Truth to be told, she didn't know. Nor cared. But given the amount of Lyseni experts in pleasure, it was the one explanation that fit. Baella nodded, "Oh the young lordlings and knights will love you. So much mystery. I can tell we're going to have so much fun." They stopped before a door where a member of the Summerhall Guard nodded at the pair and opened the door admitting the two into the room. Several young men and women were already there as well as one member of the Kingsguard, the mute Ser Wex standing in a back corner. At the head of the table sat Nymeria, her tanned skin and brown eyes glistening in the light from the balcony. Jahaerys sat at her left hand and Rhaenys, thirteen and tomboyish, fidgeted in her seat at her brother's side and across from a large, athletically built woman with dark black hair and grey eyes. Cat. Julianna, the future Queen of Westeros, sat at Nymeria's right hand, her green eyes flecked with gold. A spritely blonde with hair even paler than Julianna's sat at the table, with starry blue eyes and a thin almost boyish build. Alyssane of Tarth. The Northern beauty with long black hair and stormy grey eyes was undoubtedly Lyanna Stark. All of them regarded the Princess with smiles and Lysara with varying degrees and varities of interest. Many more young nobles sat at table as well. Including Baella's other handmaidens, who all regarded Lysara with either envy or suspicion. Baella approached, escorting Lysara along and trading hugs and greetings with her friends, "Everyone this is, Lysara. My new handmaiden, Lysara, this is our charming little group." She took Lysara around, introducing her to the various dignataries. Nymeria openly ran her eyes up and down Lysara's body while Jahaerys kissed her hand and offered a chivalrous compliment, and Rhaenys smiled earnestly. Cat opted for a nod while Julianna smiled at her and offered a compliment on her dress. Alysanne Tarth smirked at the handmaiden and barely said a greeting before commenting on her bust to the grins of her group of young male admirers. Lyanna stared Lysara right in the eyes and some enigmatic mystery stirred in them before she smiled and nodded hello. A tall Mormont named Dacey gripped Lysara in a bear hug and shoved a glass of wine in her hands with a smile. Dale Seaworth, one of Davos' grandsons, politely bowed. And the dance of social interactions started. This was probably the most crowded lunch she had ever had. And she had been down to mercenary communal barracks. She herself let herself be led, making only notice of preserving a demure attitude, and nodding in approval to what Baella was doing and saying. However, the brusque invasion of the Mormont made Lysara quickly reel in surprise, triggering reflexes that otherwise would have saved her life in other ocassions, but that were working against her in this particular case. As soon as Lysara processed that indeed, she was just a big overfriendly lug offering a cup of wine, the damage had been done. The glint of a small blade could be seen between her fingertips of one hand, only to retract briefly afterwards. [i]For my own sake, I hope nobody noticed that[/i] She added, offering an ample, generous curtsy to all those present in return of her greetings. Inadvertendly showing perhaps too much of her figure in the process. She also spoke up graciously, but the choice of language she used was not Westerosi. It was High Valyrian. She offered a heartfelt sincere welcome in the language of the Freehold. Many of the young men tried and mostly failed to hide their appraising glances but even a few of the women didn't refrain from evaluating Lysara. Wex who had been watching in the corner, had laid his hand over his pommel when he saw the flash but didn't draw when the flash had disappeared. No doubt Arya had briefed Wex as best as she could on the mysterious beauty and Wex doubtlessly recognized the look of someone tramuatized in childhood. He kept his peace as the nobles socialized. Jahaerys smiled at Lysara and recited a phrase in High Valyrian back to her while Baella translated her initial greeting to the group, "[i] "You speak the tongue beautifully my lady. More beautifully than I have ever heard. You must be Lysene." [/i] Nymeria grinned at the girl, "Where did the Queen find you dear? A pleasure house perhaps?" Julianna gasped and said, "What a thing to say Nymeria. Simply no need to slander Lysara in such a way." Nymeria winked, "It wasn't a slander my dear good sister." Upon hearing the Prince's reply, Lysara's face offered a brief but satisfied smile of complicity at the prince, signaling she was accepting the compliment. As... stuffy and predictable it seemed, and even though she had been approached by another prince already, it didn't hurt to leave some kind of door open. "Surely you jest, my Prince." She added, replying in common tongue. Her gaze lingered for a moment, before drifting over to Nymeria. "Pleasure Houses aren't what they used to be... after the changes on the regimes of the free cities, lady Nymeria. It would be a good story, however. Just like the Mother of Dragons had one former pleasure slave as one of her trusted aides, so her daughter would have aswell." Lysara tilted her head. "Alas, my story is different. You see, her Grace the Queen found me..." Lysara stopped middle sentence, allowing suspense to build up before the deliver of the line. "...behind my brother." She finished, beaming a smile. Jaehaerys smiled again, "Surely not, my lady. Baella is a singer but common suits her better. The tongue comes to you like water to a mermaid." Nymeria drank from some wine, "Ah your brother. I saw him in the throne room with all the other heroes. A strapping young lad I do say so myself." Baella agreed smiling, "I should say so. You simply must tell us all about him Lysara. The ladies of the court were so disappointed when he left on that mission with the others." Julianna frowned ruefully, "I only hope that my Prince and your brother will be safe. I pray to the Mother every day." Nymeria dismissed the concern with a wave, "No worries good sister. My Viserys is one of the finest warriors in the land and Aemon is no squire either. I'm sure that brother of yours is a tough fighter as well Lysara. Tell me, how traditional is your family?" Nymeria giggled. "Thank you, my Prince. Now I feel reassured knowing that my High Valyrian sounds like the gutural gurgle of the creatures of the deep." Lysara smirked, swirling her cup and taking a thoughtful sip, catching on the cue of Baella's intentions. So, her princess wanted some juicy gossip? Well, it seemed fair enough. Although Lysara still couldn't resist but adding her particular spin to her tale. "My brother? He's a tool. He has to constantly depend on me to do his planning of the day. He swings the sword like a club, and the club like a sword. And he could never beat me in a game of Cyvasse." Lysara added, swirling her cup. "But I do guess, he is good at doing something alright." Lysara added. "He may not be able to beat me at Cyvasse, but he makes me sweat to win the games. He may depend on my planning to deal with the day, but he carefully assists me with mine. He may have no grace when swinging weapons, but he can swing them all equally, and he has saved my life by cutting a path through sure death." Lysara finished, her stare in the cup. "Family you say, Lady Nymeria? I wouldn't known." "Besides Seran, everyone else is dead. My mother since birth. My father since I was eleven. And my other brother aswell died." Her stare now became defiant, eyes clashing with Nymeria's own orbs, the stern gaze of a dragon upon her. "So I would humbly request not to dabble that much in that subject, my Lady." She finished, curtly. Jahaerys seemed unpertubed, and the ghost of a smirk even graced his features. His grey eyes seeemed to reevaluate her, searching her own for the mysteries she held concealed, "Not just a lovely voice, but a quick tongue too." Nymeria seemed pleased with Lysara's initial answer,"Oafish men have their place my dear. Sometimes you don't need refinement and vigor is all that is required." Upon her defiant rebuke, Nymeria smirked, gazing back unafraid and unapologetically. Julianna, shocked by Lysara's story, offered gracious sympathies and platitudes while Baella gently scolded her handmaiden, "Please excuse Lysara ladies, she's new to the capital. Her manner requires some refinement still." Nymeria nodded, "No need good sister. The fault is mine. Besides, I like spirit." Alysanne spoke up for the first time, "Spirit is well and fine. But what's better is knowing your place. Apologize to the Princess, my lady. One does not rebuke their betters." The young Tarth lady eyed Lysara arrogantly. Some whispered she was the daughter of Jaime Lannister, and the Kingslayers famed youthful pride shone brightly in her. The mood in the room soured as several guests either looked on in interest or pretended not to notice and carry on as they were. Wex's hand drifted over his sword again. Alys was quick to anger and quick to draw steel and the situation could turn violent at any moment, if she were further provoked. Cat put a hand on Alys' shoulder, urging her friend to stand down but she would not be dettered. Lyanna looked on with something like a grin. Alys repeated herself, "Nymeria's honor will not be besmirched." Jahaerys sensing the tension, put a hand on Rhaenys' shoulder and urged her away from the table, looking on as Baella sighed in exasperation. Lysara's fist contracted, as she eyed the situation. Well, she had hoped that flaring up a bit would probably cut short the questions, but now the retinue of Nymeria seemed rather... discontent with her actual performance. Her eyes met with Baella for the briefest moment, then lady Tarth, and finally Nymeria. "Valar dohaeris." She said in a clear voice, alluding the old Valyrian greeting, and following that, offered one of her most contrite bows directed as Nymeria. "I apologize, lady Nymeria. I have spoken out of place, due to my naivety and arrogance."She paused."Please do not take it against my Princess." Nymeria accepted the gesture with a nod and a smile, "Come my lady, there is no need for such pleasentries, the fault is entirely mine. Please excuse, Alys. She's as quick with a sword as she is with a smile and she is a bit overzealous when it comes to her friends. Are you appeased Alys?" Alys did not seem very satisfied but she could hardly complain. She stared at Lysara for several moments before finally nodding. A bit of a smirk crossing her features as she drank some wine. The rest of the guests murmured amongst themselves, gossiping about the confrontation. Baella quickly recovered, and was practically ecstatic when the door opened and the food was placed on the table, a decadent array of various meats, fruits and vegetables, and sweets. Baella dragged Lysara to the table, "Oh you simply must try the roast duck dear. To die for." Alys traded glances with Lysara and smiled again before turning to her male retinue. "Yes, my Lady." Lysara's reply was soft and mellow, as she eyed Alys for a brief moment before resuming her role as handmaiden of the princess. She did not take the roast duck immediately, instead waiting to see others taste the food before grabbing a piece for herself. The experience of her brother with tainted food, and the popularity of poison to deal with political opponents in Lys had made her wary. And yet, she had to appear unconcerned, so she struck a balance she could easily justify by not having much appetite, a ladylike trait. The chatter in the room became more sedate and relaxed, the mood slowly returning to one of levity. Many of the other guests were trading glances among themselves or sneaking looks at Lysara. For the moment Jahaerys and Nymeria had seemed to had their fill of conversing with Lysara and chatted with their friends. Baella was content to gossip with Lysara and the other handmaidens, the gaggle of girls giggling over the latest rumors and news. Finally the door opened and Daenyra Targaryen entered. Tom Lannister was at her side, escorting her on his arm as the pair entered the room. Both had just come from the Throne Room in the aftermath of the petitions and Baella rose, introducing Lysara to them, "Lysara, this is Daenyra. Aemon's twin, Lady of Driftmark. And Tommen Lannister, the Young Lion, future Lord of Casterly Rock. Sister, good brother, this is my new handmaiden. Lysara of Lys." Tom bowed his head, "Charmed." Meanwhile Daenyra stared at Lysara with those unsettling blue eyes and nodded her head minutely. Daenyra sat close to Baella and Lysara, hugging Rhaenys in greeting and eyeing the Lysene handmaiden, "I trust you're enjoying your time in King's Landing Lysara? A marked difference from Lys no doubt. What brings once such as you all the way to our city? A girl from an old house, raised in a mercenary camp?" [i]Hmmm. Well, this place is more vibrant than I thought. Also many possible good candidates for marriage without being claimed.[/i] Lysara thought to herself, smiling at the assorted nobles that kept being presented to her. She also kept an ear through the gossip, smiling Baella's jokes and nodding vigorously. She had to appear a bit like a puppet of Baella for the time being, as no doubt the other handmaidens would see their positions threatened. She still bore some doubts in the back on her mind, about her brusque confrontation with Nymeria and the honor-strung make-believe of lady knight. Would those be lovers? They might as well be. Lysara offered her best curtsy to Tommen and Daenyra. "The pleasure is all mine, lady and lord." She answered putting the best smile on her. [i]Jaehaerys, Rhaegar or Tommen? Difficult choice on who to court. Oh who I am kidding. The young Rhaegar seems the safer bet to aim without much competition. But better keep my channels open[/i]. Lysara pondered, as she went to face Daenyra. "Well, this is so far the kind of situation i would choose over the company of crass mercenaries, and everyone present here. There is no comparison, simply put." Lysara. "Still, It feels a bit overwhelming at times." She conceded, her prior brush with Alysanne being rather obvious. "Well, my objective is probably the same as half the people here. A better life. My brother was of the opinion i was wasting myself away while cleaning wounds, and eventually decided that this wasn't any more risky than the boiling cauldron that is Essos nowadays." Lysara smiled somewhat humorously. "Who knows, even I might find my soulmate among this lot... just to spite that tool that would rather wage war in Essos than keep me company." The younger of the siblings beamed. Daenyra smiled back at Lysara, glancing at Alys, "I've known Alys since we were children. She's loyal to her friends, to a fault almost. But I will make sure she apologizes to you. She was out of line." Daenyra sat with them for some time more, eating very little and listening more than she gossiped. Eventually, Baella had a servant bring her a lute and she began playing a ballad, singing melodiously as she performed the Silver Queen's Song, a story of her mother's ascent from exile princess to dragon queen. Just as she finished the song and bowed to the applause of her audience, Daenyra stood to leave, and touched Lysara on the shoulder as she passed. A soft whisper sounded inside her mind, " [i] Tread carefully. Very carefully. You are being watched. [/i] " Daenyra kept walking and left the room, and it seemed as if a gloom had settled in with heer absence. Lysara watched the conversation unfold, her eyes glancing at Daenyra at times. [i]Dragon in her own right, isn't she?[/i] Her thoughtfulness accentuated at times, only to be woken by the princess' song. [i]Well, she's good. I don't have to worry about upstaging my lady when it comes to singing. She probably could use a second voice...[/i] She thought as she gave a clapping and ovation. Only to be cut short by Daenyra's ominous whisper. [i]That much i know, alright. At times this game can be much more dangerous than a battlefield[/i]. She pondered before nodding. She still couldn't tell wether this Daenyra was an ally or was trying to bully her, but she would refrain from making bold moves for a while. First, let Baella enjoy her new Lyseni handmaiden. She couldn't pretend to move the stage on the first day, could she? [i]Oh brother, please come alive. I could use someone to rely on in this nest of masked intentions[/i] She thought to herself as she sipped one last cup of wine. [hr] [b]Disguised Trade Ship Gray Ice[/b] ((OOC: I assume Aerion understands Lyseni bastard Valyrian, represented with <<>>)) [@Abefroeman] Dealing with the eve of battle was always hard, even for a seasoned mercenary. The Lyseni known as Seran was no exception. While there was much eagerness, even rowdyness, his spirit was still somber, and it was due to politeness that he wasn't sporting a frown in front of the Targayens who were sponsoring the fellow adventures. He took his cup of wine carefully, sipping ever so slowly so it would never get refilled. He was not going to drink himself to sleep this night, like others. Not when many things needed to be prepared and pondered. However, there was so much one could tolerate, and after bearing witness to some less than ... fortunate comments and attitudes, Seran made his own aportation with a curt response. "Survival. Now, if you excuse my insolence, m'lord, I must tend a growing seasickness." Seran added, eventually getting up and reaching for the starboard. Blunt? Maybe. But he needed to breathe air. Apparently it wasn't the only one who had the same idea, judging how a couple of youngsters were bent on carving the deck in an insipid sworddance. It was a good thing that Visenya had stopped them and that Tarya Greyjoy had somehow managed to defuse the situation further with her words. [i]A savvy girl, that woman.[/i] He considered giving her a greeting, but more pressing matters were at hand. Namely Sir Aerion, who had approached his moment of solace to seek questions from him. Well, he really wanted to take a look at the silent night and think over, but he didn't consider Aerion's interruption annoying. It was more of a ...revealing sort. He could see it too. <<"Fine indeed, sir Aerion, if one worships the Many Faced God.">> The Lyseni quipped back, turning ever so slowly to an interlocutor. <<"Unfortunately for me, I do not, since I am partial to the lady of Lys...">> Seran let trail off before a hoarse voice shouted on his back, the ruffling of black and white feathers accompaning it. "Tits!" The magpie shouted in an idiotic fashion. Apparently the clever animal had followed him to the starboard. <<"...lady of Lys, one word this thing learns... and it's...">> Seran added, mumbling between the magpie's cawing. However, he bounced back pretty quickly, his eyes now matching those of Aerion. <<"Seeking advice of the troop and file, ser Aerion? Quite an odd thing to do. But then again none of this makes much sense, does it?">> The Lyseni nodding, confiding his opinion. Well, Aerion wasn't one to hear things minced, so he cleared his throat. <<"No luck there, I am afraid, ser Aerion. I am as clueless as you are. But I fear for the worst, that they will take this one as one of the Westerosi make-believe wars. They will try to press on to make a massive battle where dragons can fly and scorch the enemy, and glory hounds get their share.">> Seran added. <<"And yet...it probably can't be done.">> The Lyseni shrugged. <<"Well, if it is any consolation, I do think the Iron throne does not have its entire faith on success. With the frontiers of the kingdom as swollen as they are... they're probably dispatching us with gold and glory, in hopes that we might succeed, and save the rewards on those who will have fallen. The Mother of Dragons does know her trade, doesn't she?">> Seran smirked, half-resigned to his fate. <<"Although I hope they realize the folly of using dragons against people in this island. Stones don't burn well... ships do, however.">> Seran added, thoughtfully. <<"And the Stepstones are called that because they must be taken one at a time, or else you will only fall.">> He added. <<"Still, we're not completely helpless, we have enough veterans and talent here to potentially overturn the situation. If we're lucky.">> Seran of Lys finished, as he tilted his head to the sea. <<"Valar Morghulis, ser Aerion.">> He offered the customary Braavosi greeting. Oddly grim and fitting for this situation, he thought.