((OOC, here's a repost of the collab before the departure))

[b]The Evening, some time before the campaign.[/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."