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librosamarillos · 10 months

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passed down like folk songs

chapter 29: wonderstruck

Maegor Targaryen x OC

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Tags: hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, angst, mature themes, targaryen incest, violence, Maegor is a red flag himself, characters are ooc probably, MINORS DNI

Rowan thought she always knew who and what she was. A mere lady, a daughter of a second son, someone who would live a comfortable life without much fuss, but it seemed that the image she had of herself was changing day by day, especially after the King’s request. Could she truly call it a request if it came from the King, or was it just a softly spoken order? If she declined, she worried that he would resort to sending someone else to spy on the dowager Queen, something that would be most unwise and would absolutely not end well for anyone.

It wasn’t like Rowan was avoiding Visenya, not entirely, she just avoided all the places she knew she would frequent and focused entirely on Ceryse. She knew that sooner or later she’d have to talk to her. Part of her had wanted for Visenya to be the one to seek her out and apologise, but she knew if she were in her shoes she’d give her space to process everything. She didn’t regret her words that day, but the more she thought back to it, the more she couldn’t believe she actually managed to speak like that.

It unnerved her that Aenys knew. It frightened her that someone else knew. It hurt even more to know that Maegor only told him because he was finally letting his guard down around his older brother, only to destroy it all in a few days. She wanted to believe that if Maegor felt safe enough to tell the King, that Rowan should too, but it was still strange to know that he now knew the most intimate part of her life and her future depended on a promise he made to keep it to himself. She wanted to hit herself for just admitting everything to him that night, but she couldn’t bring herself to lie, and something in his eyes compelled her that he deserved to know that the image he had of Maegor was incomplete.

Still, what happened cannot be changed, and now she had to come face to face with Visenya once more. She caught wind that some maids were bringing the former Queen her dresses for viewing, making Rowan think that she was planning to head to Dragonstone for a while. It wouldn’t be a good idea. There was already unrest and Aenys needed her by his side more than ever, if not as an aunt, as an advisor. He shouldn’t get his hopes up, she knew this, he did send away Visenya’s one and only son. For good reason, yes, but she was still his mother and this couldn’t be easy.

She had to keep telling herself that it would all be alright as she walked to the dowager Queen’s chambers, guarded by one of her sworn guards and not the Kingsguard, as they were now assigned to Aenys and his wife and kids. The man looked down at her, recognising her, but still asked the formal questions he had to. There was no making mistakes with Visenya, no room for apologies.

“State your purpose.” he said bluntly, but not rudely. He could see that she was no real threat to the dowager Queen, not even if she tried. He knew her and her face, as she accompanied Visenya everywhere, but he could never be too safe now could he?

“I only wish to speak to her, Ser Allyn. It’s a matter of importance.” she replied, trying to sound more like a grown woman rather than a girl. But she still felt like a little girl, wishing for nothing more than to run into her mother’s arms and pray to the gods for things to go back to normal, to the way they were. But it was just a childish whim, what else could it be?

As the knight let her in, she took a deep breath before walking into the former Queen’s chambers. Visenya had her on and off days about this room. Sometimes she wanted to stay there for days, sometimes she wanted to be as far from it as possible. She noted that the things the late King Aegon had left in her room were still just as he left them.

The dowager Queen was holding up a summer dress, scanning it, when she heard someone entering, as she looked up with annoyance in her violet eyes. It all melted away, however, when she realised it was Rowan standing before her, and she seemed to be relieved instead. The air was still tense between them, but it didn’t hold any of the heaviness it did when they last spoke, much to Rowan’s relief. They were both silent, until she decided to finally break the ice.

“I heard that you were planning to go to Dragonstone for some time. Is that true?” she said rather formally, but Visenya seemed to be expecting that. She turned her violet eyes from Rowan to the dress she had been holding, and placed it onto a pile. There seemed to be two, one for yes and one for no, for what she wanted to take with her to her ancestral home.

“I was considering it. Why do you ask?” she replied, her voice not betraying any specific emotion. She was waiting to see why Rowan was bringing this up, why she broke her long silence and avoidance to come find her. Rowan hesitated for a moment, but decided that it would be better if she just spoke up. She had nothing to fear, she hadn’t done anything wrong.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to leave. Not when the King needs you by his side.” she stated honestly. As angry as she was with her, Visenya’s presence was the most comforting one in times of conflict. Her confidence and years of experience gave the former Queen such a reassuring aura, one that Rowan knew Aenys would need more than anything, as things were getting more tense by the hour. Visenya had picked up another dress, turning her gaze away from Rowan momentarily.

“I heard the King had a chat with you.” It was a simple sentence, but it made Rowan nervous. Of course Visenya was still upset with her nephew, for that she couldn’t bring herself to fully blame her, but that’s what Rowan was here to do wasn’t it? To get her to stay for the sake of the Kingdom. Aenys would soon crack, and who would pick up the broken pieces of the crown then? Alyssa who would be equally as crushed, or the little children who were barely ten years old? They all needed Visenya.

“He did.” she confirmed, her green eyes not leaving the silver haired woman, waiting for even a sliver of emotion. Visenya didn’t look back at her, instead shifting her focus to the dress she was holding in her hands, tracing the light fabric, before tossing it to one of the piles. The closer Rowan looked, she realised they were separated into winter and spring dresses. She wondered whether any of those dresses were a gift from her late husband, but she knew better than to ask.

“And would that chat happen to have any impact on your opinion of me staying here?” she asked, pretending to be careless. If Rowan didn’t know any better, she would’ve fallen for it, but no, she knew her much better than that. She was upset and on edge with everything. Rowan sighed and finally stepped closer to her, smoothing over her own dress in the process.

“I would’ve felt the same way without the King speaking to me, but our conversation did solidify how I felt.” she confirmed again, and this time Visenya did turn to look at her. She had a look of suspicion, but beneath that hid worry and that all made Rowan feel safe.

“Rowan, why did he want to speak with you?” she asked, but more so demanded to know. She had abandoned her dresses, now turning her full attention to Rowan. Her violet eyes used to intimidate her once upon a time, but now Rowan searched for home in them, for a sign that would prove they’d all be alright in the end. She decided to tell her the whole truth of it all.

“He knows that he needs you, but he no longer trusts you, rightfully so, might I add. He asked me to keep an eye on you, to make sure nothing else happens.” she admitted without shame, like it was a mere fact, or the weather. It seemed to have taken Visenya by surprise, but she frowned when her words sank in. Rowan never considered lying, as it was messy business, and even though Visenya had no problem forgetting the truth , Rowan couldn’t imagine doing the same, let alone for an order from the King. The truth was the only way to go about this. “I still think you should stay here.”

“He’s the King. He seems to have no trouble making his own choices.” Visenya spat out a little too quickly, but of course she would. Of course she’d feel angry at the nephew she never believed in for sending away her son, her one and only son, in exile. No matter how right Aenys was, a mother’s heart could not simply forget it all and happily join his council. But if treaded lightly, things could come to some sort of compromise for the good of the people.

“And you’d be alright if those choices end up undoing all of your hard work?” Rowan asked, keeping her eyes on Visenya once more. That seemed to hit a nerve, as they both seemed to have the same mental image, of the seven kingdoms falling apart once more with each of Aenys’ indecisions making the image more and more vivid. Visenya sighed and shook her head, facing down at her piles of dresses.

“Of course not. I do find it quite pathetic that he had to ask you to be my babysitter.” she said dryly. It was most insulting, to ask a mere lady in waiting to practically hover over Visenya to make sure she behaves, but if not Rowan, the King would only pick someone else, and that person would not have the mercy of having Visenya’s compassion. The more she stepped back from her childhood, the more she realised how dangerous it is to be on Visenya’s bad side, be it a maid or cook that displeased her.

“Can you blame him? Even I cannot say that I can trust you the same way anymore.” Rowan admitted, wanting to sigh in pure frustration. She frowned and wanted to ask her why a million times, like why did she have to do this, to stab at Rowan’s heart that never healed, and ruin that trust that existed between them. Just a few weeks ago, Rowan would’ve trusted Visenya with her entire life, but now she could not say the same.

“Rowan, I know. It’s a lot and I do not blame you for being angry-” she started, but Rowan cut her off.

“Eventually I’ll understand, yes, I know.” she completed the sentence for her. She felt like a defiant teen who was angry at her mother. She wondered if that’s what Visenya was feeling too, like she was trying to calm her angry daughter, to get her to see her side of the story and understand, but Rowan was doubtful she’d understand.

“He arrived in Pentos, he wrote to me.” Visenya’s tone was now much softer, much closer to the way she normally talked to her, before all this. She didn’t even have to speak his name, yet Rowan’s heart almost cracked open. There were a million questions she wanted to so frantically ask, but kept her calm facade on, the only thing changing on her face being the frown that deepened. Visenya saw right through it all. “You’re all he’s written to me about.”

“Why?” It was the only thing she could bring herself to ask, that pained why. Why did he write about her when he was the one who chose to abandon her and hurt her? What was going on inside his head to excuse all of this? Rowan breathed in, trying to distract herself with the pile of dresses on the bed, but Visenya kept on talking.

“He does not care for this girl, not at all. He loves you dearly.” she said it so softly, so calmly, in a way that made Rowan want to cry because it sounded like the truth. She wanted so badly to believe it all, but what for? So what if he loved her? He still hurt her. She felt Visenya step closer, but hesitating to fully comfort her.

“He left without even saying goodbye. Not a word.” she said, trying not to sound like a wounded child, but surely failing. She heard Visenya sigh slightly, and she looked up to find a look of regret in her violet eyes. It made Rowan soften her own gaze, ashamed that she had assumed the worst in her pain.

“I don’t think he could bring himself to.” Visenya said softly. She looked to her desk, before deciding to go and retrieve the letter from it. Each footstep brought Rowan back to reality, away from her pained heart, but she doubted that would last long. “Do you want to read it?” Visenya asked it gently, carefully, her eyes studying Rowan with care. Rowan stared at the folded letter, her heart beating so loudly she was sure Visenya could hear it from where she stood. With a regretfully shaky hand, she reached out to take it from her hand, unable to refuse the chance to see a trace of him once more. She carefully unfolded it, and felt her eyes burning at the sight of the familiar handwriting, all of it written in High Valyrian, the language he helped her learn through the years. After a few lines of him stating he found a home and things being alright, the words that followed made her want to weep.

Watch over her, please. I cannot bear it that I’m not there to do so myself, so I can only rest knowing she’s with you. Tell her I’m sorry. Tell her I’m so sorry. That I miss her, and that nothing has changed for me and I hope that she can find it in her heart to one day forgive me for this. Tell her that I think about her constantly, and that I hope upon my return that she doesn’t completely hate me for what I’ve done. Please, mother, watch over her and keep her safe.

Rowan wanted to be angry, she wanted to be absolutely furious at him. She wanted to yell and scream and blame, but all she felt in that moment was agony. She had hoped for some sort of clarity, some sort of thing that would give her a clue as to why, but instead she saw his sweet words and if she focused, she could even hear them in his voice. Just when she thought she could be okay, she felt alone and confused all over again.

“Keep it.” Visenya’s voice was soft again, her hand rubbing her shoulder when Rowan hadn’t even registered that she was even that close before she started reading. She wanted to refuse, to throw the letter into open flame, but she could never bring herself to. Instead, she folded it carefully, so, so carefully, and held it in her hand as she tried to compose herself.

“Will you stay? With Aenys?” With me? She looked up at Visenya, her eyes almost pleading. She knew why she wanted to leave, to leave Aenys alone to mess up as a way to show him that he needed her, that he needed Maegor, but Rowan wanted her to see how risky that would be. If Aenys failed at the wrong thing, the years worth of work she and her siblings had done, it would all crumble to the ground. She couldn’t begin to imagine the chaos and destruction that would follow. Aenys just needed to grow into the role.

“I will. I will stay.” Visneya responded after a moment of thought. Rowan wanted to sigh in relief, to believe that the King would not falter and crumble, but she couldn’t quite convince herself of that. But Visenya would know what to do. They could all count on her.

“I’m sorry for how things had to happen, for you being caught up in everything, for not saying anything to you…” Visenya apologised once more, and this time it felt much more sincere than their fight. Rowan could’t bring herself to pry more, not for a long while, but she did nod. “Will you stay?” her voice was softer, more vulnerable.

Did she think that Rowan planned to run away, to return to her home? Did she think the pain would make her recoil and retreat, leaving behind her life in the capital? It almost did. The advice her father gave her to return back to Starfall was lucrative, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She couldn’t leave Ceryse alone with Visenya, or even Aenys at this point. She couldn’t bear to think that Visneya would be all alone either, with her only son away.

“I will. I will remain by Ceryse’s side. And the King’s.” she finally responded, sounding a bit more formal once again. “And yours.” she assured, in a way accepting the olive branch Visenya had been extending. She didn’t know how things would turn out, but they’d survive this. She had to believe they would.

Visenya seemed happy enough to let a small smile fall on her face, reaching out to rub her shoulder affectionately. If Rowan closed her eyes, she could even pretend things were alright and nothing bad had happened, and that this was just a regular morning for them. But there was another thing she had to bring up.

“He knows.” she said plainly, after a deep breath. Visenya’s small smile faded as soon as she heard, but her hand did not retreat. She looked at Rowan carefully.

“What?” she asked, suddenly the look of worry returning on her face. Rowan took another deep breath, knowing that things were about to become even more complicated. She thought back to that night, back to that worry.

“Aenys knows. About Maegor and I.” Rowan breathed. She said it so quietly, Visenya had to slightly lean in. Confusion took over her features, wondering how in the seven hells Aenys would know something so personal.

“How?” Visenya asked, her expression now a lot more serious and severe. This was not a matter any of them could simply overlook, was it?

“Maegor had told him a while ago apparently.” Rowan admitted. The fact that Visenya didn’t know about this hurt even more. It was proof that it was something said between brothers, two brothers that grew up apart but were trying to connect. It was a secret Maegor had trusted Aenys with, one that he wouldn’t have shared otherwise. While Rowan frowned at all the sorrow, Visenya frowned in anger.

“Is he using this against you?” she asked seriously, bringing another hand on Rowan’s other shoulder, her violet eyes scanning her face carefully, as if looking for a scratch or bruise. Rowan frowned even more, shaking her head.

“No. He swore not to say a word to anyone.” she said. She wanted to believe the King. He was a kind and gentle man, not someone who’d use something like this to get something out of her. Or perhaps it was out of fear of Maegor coming back from Pentos one day to unleash his anger on the King, but Rowan wanted to believe the former.

“And you believe him not to use this against you?” Visenya asked, but mostly it was out of disbelief. It wasn’t an unreasonable thought. Had it been literally anyone else, Rowan would be sure there would be huge consequences, but Aenys was not that kind of person. She felt a huge urge to defend the King, even though she didn’t have to.

“Do you really have him for such a person?” Rowan asked, her eyes pleading with Visenya for the truth. Did she truly believe her nephew would do something like this? No, this was surely out of anger, out of worry.

“How can you be sure?” Visenya almost sighed in frustration, but Rowan couldn’t be sure if it was truly directed at her, or the King, or everything all at once. She was right, how could Rowan truly be sure? Aenys was kind, yes, but he was also a King, and he could do as he pleased, in principle at least. She tried to think of a scenario where he would use it against her, but she just couldn’t see it.

“I don’t know. I just am.” she admitted, almost ashamed that she only had a feeling about trusting him. Rowan went to speak again, but Visenya spoke first, letting go of Rowan’s shoulders to walk to the door.

“I’ll go talk to him.” Rowan knew what that tone of voice meant, and she had to stop the dowager Queen from committing regicide. She was not the calmest person to argue with and she didn’t look like she was in any mood to deal with her nephew at all.

“No. He only wants to keep the peace, he won’t bring this up because it would only cause more chaos. There’s nothing he really can do with this information that won’t end up hurting him in the process. He’s not that kind of person.” Rowan grabbed her hand, pulling her back, and to her surprise, she stayed. Visenya seemed to contemplate for a moment, before letting out another sigh. Perhaps she didn’t want to upset Rowan again, as silly as it sounded.

“No, but he can be persuaded easily. Be very careful with him and with what you entrust him with.” she concluded, letting her shoulders fall down a bit. Rowan nodded, knowing that from now on, she wouldn't tell him much of anything that could be used to hurt her, or even Maegor for that matter.

“Have you spoken with Ceryse?” she asked, but not really. She would’ve known if Visenya had visited her friend, let alone if it was to apologise. It was more of a firm reminder of her duties as her goodmother, after everything. The Hightowers would certainly not look kindly upon the fact that she had treated their daughter and sister so coldly.

“To tell her what? There’s nothing for us to speak about.” Visenya said stubbornly, folding her hands. Rowan only gave her a pointed look, as if telling her to face her own actions in this mess, and the way the consequences hurt Ceryse.

“You can apologise to her.” Rowan offered plainly, her green eyes looking up at the former Queen expectantly, crossing her own hands in the process. Visneya shook her head, but Rowan did not want to hear any of it.

“Rowan-”

“No. Do you know what the King plans to do? He wants his new hand, this Murmison, to perform a so-called ‘miracle’ on her, to heal her womb. As if this whole mess was her fault.” Rowan found herself ranting, finally letting off the facade of any sort of calm reaction to all of this. As much as Aenys was kind and understanding, he was still a man. A man who seemed to think that Ceryse was a problem that needed fixing and things will go back to normal when she is. Visenya didn’t say anything and that worried her. “You cannot seriously believe that this is in any way her fault.”

“No. I’m just still shocked he chose that man to be his hand.” Visenya shook her head again. The decision was certainly bizarre, as there were certainly much better candidates to replace Maegor, albeit without the huge advantage that was Balerion, but still, better than a con artist hiding beneath the holy cloth. She truly had no idea how the King chose him. Was the man that convincing, or was Aenys that panicked that he picked the first person he saw?

“I think he’ll end up making things worse.” Rowan mumbled, still upset at the King’s decision and insinuations. But what could Rowan truly do about it? What could Ceryse even do? They all just had to sit there and endure and watch and say nothing. Perhaps Alyssa would be someone to turn to? The King loved her, she could surely speak some sense into him.

“I thought you of all people would approve of a Septon being hand of the King.” Visenya raised a brow, almost amused at Rowan. She clearly had great distaste for the man already, as Rowan could imagine anyone who had to replace her son would be despised by the dowager Queen, but this time it felt justified.

“Not him. I don’t trust any miracle performers. Let alone such eager ones.” she responded honestly. It would have made her feel safe to know that the King was being advised by a man of the faith, especially now that the relations were getting more and more strained, but not this man. Perhaps it wasn’t even anything big, perhaps she was just overwhelmed with silent grief and couldn’t see things as they should be, but she wasn’t about to let her guard down, not when tensions were getting higher and higher.

“Good.” Visenya gave her a small smile of approval. It was silent for a moment, a peaceful silence, and if she closed her eyes, Rowan could imagine being a child again, reading books about botany out loud to the Queen, in order to practise her High Valyrian, an honour no one else could claim to have received. No one other than Maegor. Rowan looked into the older woman’s eyes, biting her lip slightly before speaking up again.

“I still think you owe her an apology. For treating her the way you have since she was married to your son, and for this huge mess you’ve put her in.” She surprised herself by speaking so clearly and steadily. Visenya didn’t say anything right away, opting to take a moment to think her words through. Could it be that she would truly do it? She knew she was a proud and stubborn woman, admitting a mistake wouldn’t be something she’d do to just anyone, let alone the gooddaughter she had been treating so coldly.

“Once things have settled, I’ll talk to her, okay?” she responded softly, brushing away a hair out of Rowan’s face. It was getting longer, her hair framing her face in a way she wasn’t very used to. She was also silent for a moment, knowing that this was the best she could get for the time being.

Alys absolutely loved Pentos. Well, the little part of the city that she had gotten the chance to see so far, but still, it was all so new and amazing and shiny. Just as she had always dreamed of. She hadn’t even had the time to think about her family back home, nor any scrutiny that they’d have to face for being associated with her. She was too busy exploring each shop and stall that she could, as well as enjoying the seemingly endless flow of money that she now had access to. Maegor had truly delivered on his promise.

But Maegor was another story entirely. He did warn her that he only wed her to get an heir or two out of her, but it didn’t make anything any less strange for her. Their wedding was creepy and rushed, his mother uttering words she did not understand while glaring at her, and the wedding night was just as unexpected. She had always heard from around her village that men greatly enjoyed the act of coupling and that she should expect for her future husband to claim that right often, especially in the early days of the marriage. But that was not the case here. Her wedding night was rushed and quite rough, he looked like he didn’t even want to be there with her, opting to roughly turn her away so he wouldn’t have to look at her face.

She didn’t entirely hate it, but she didn’t really understand what the big deal was. But she also did not understand why he didn’t visit her as often as possible in order to get her with child as soon as he could. He didn’t eat with her, stayed in his room for hours upon hours and when he finally would come out, the way he’d look at her was unnerving. It was all rather confusing and perhaps she should take some sort of offence, but he had made good on his part of their arrangement. He hired two guards to follow her everywhere, gave her an ungodly amount of money that he would renew each month, and let her roam free around the city with his only order being to not do anything to embarrass him or his house.

While the whole situation with her new husband was weird, everything else was an adventure. As she walked around the city, with the company of her guards of course, she could hear voices speaking this language that she did not know, the smell of the salty air of the sea kissing her nose and the sun was warm, accompanied by a breeze. She had a feeling this would be a great day to go out. Her guards spoke a little bit of the common tongue, but they were clearly not interested in chatting with her, often replying with one word answers, but they knew enough to tell her where the more popular places were.

It was now late afternoon and Alys was growing hungry. She had stopped around the fountain in the square, looking around to see if anything caught her eye, or rather, her nose, as the idea of walking all the way back home this soon was not one she wanted to opt for. While nothing seemed to be close, she did recall the other day, when she joined in the group of dancers with the pretty dresses. They spoke in broken words, but it was enough for Alys, who grew restless of not having anyone to talk to all this time, and they exchanged names and pleasantries. She was a bit ashamed to admit she didn’t remember their names, she was never that good at remembering them, but she did manage to piece together that they danced in a tavern. Okay, great, but how would she find them now?

It took a bit of time, but with the help of the guards and a few locals, Alys managed to find herself on a table by herself, the two men sitting separately from her, but still close by. This tavern was truly nothing like they had back home. The atmosphere was vibrant and loud and upbeat, with musicians playing their music for all the patrons. She was looking around in wonder, like a small child, at all the different kinds of foods that people were ordering, her eyes trying to find something she would like. Her guards were of no help here either, offering her no assistance in what to order, or how to order. She saw a lot of fish and meat, seeing as this was near a port, so maybe she could just point at something?

Her thoughts were interrupted when the tune changed, and the man who was humming while playing his lute said something that made the people around her cheer loudly, especially the men. Ever so curious, Alys turned to look at the small stage that had been set up, and to her delight, the women she danced with that day came on. They began to dance to the music, the tune a bit slower than before, more sensual. She wasn’t sure why this would be taking place in a tavern, but she was certainly not complaining. She looked at all the women, a bit frustrated that she couldn’t remember their names, but remembering how their bodies all moved, until her eyes landed on one she didn’t recognise.

Something about her made her heart beat faster and faster. She was pale, but not strangely so like Maegor and his family were, she looked more like a porcelain doll. Only a porcelain doll would not be able to move her hips in such a suggestive and hypnotising way. Alys’ eyes roamed all over her, mesmerised by her long black hair and the way it danced around her hips. She had never seen hair that pin straight and that black before, the contrast with her pale skin making it appear even darker.

The dancers moved off of the stage, taking a moment to dance closer to the patrons, and she watched on as the mesmerising woman danced in front of a large table of men, travellers maybe, who all cheered her on, drinking her appearance in the same way that Alys certainly was. She wanted to slap herself for staring so much at one specific person, she could hear her septa’s voice scolding her that it’s rude to do so, but she couldn’t help herself. It was like she could think of nothing and no one else while her eyes were glued to the woman with the raven black hair.

She had no idea how much time had passed, but the songs had ended, the musicians now going back to their more relaxed tune, signalling that the performance was over. But the women did not leave the tavern, they stayed and mingled with the guests, some of them sitting down with them as well, joining in their supper. She looked around and noticed that they seemed to know who Alys assumed were the frequent customers, chatting with them in a familiar tone. Gods, she wished she understood what was being said around her. If she did, she’d perhaps get an idea of who that beautiful woman was and why she was coming closer to her-

Why was she walking closer to her? When had she started to walk toward Alys’ table, with a smile on her red painted lips? The closer she came, the faster her heart was beating. How could it not, when her eyes seemed to be like drops of brilliant ink, black and mysterious and shaped like the eyes of a fox? How could she think properly when she realised that her dress was quite sheer and revealing, and her hips moved in such a hypnotic way?

“I see you’ve enjoyed the performance, my lady.” she spoke, her voice as smooth as velvet, low and teasing. She was standing right in front of her, and now Alys truly felt like she was looking right at a porcelain doll. She’d never met anyone with skin so smooth and clear, almost unreal. She had an accent that was melodic to her ears, luring her in and making her want to lean in and listen.

“I- yes! Very much so! You’re beautiful, ah, a beautiful dancer, I mean. Because you dance beautifully.” she stumbled over her words, as if she had just learned how to speak. It took her a moment to breathe normally again, to try and not embarrass herself. The mysterious woman let out a small laugh and nodded her head.

“Thank you. I am honoured that such an interesting lady, such as yourself, is blushing because of me.” she smiled, making Alys’ eyes widen. Was she really blushing so much that this woman had noticed it while dancing for a table four tables away? No, it must’ve been a figure of speech here, right? She tried to think that, ignoring how hot her cheeks felt.

“Me? Interesting? How so?” she asked her, trying to ignore her embarrassment. It was then that she realised how weird she must look, sitting all alone in a crowded tavern. Everyone around her was sitting in the company of at least two other people. Had the beautiful dancer come talk to her because she seemed lost and pathetic?

“Why, you and your husband have been the talk of all of Pentos! It’s not every day that a Targaryen Prince gets exiled, let alone for a scandal as big as this. Though, now that I can finally see you up close, I can understand why he risked it.” the woman laughed, as if it were so obvious to everyone. It had never occurred to Alys that anyone would truly be that interested in her, let alone in a busy place with so much to do, but of course it made sense. Her husband, as strange as it felt to hear people call him that, was the hand of the King in exile. And had a huge dragon that flew over the city, covering it entirely in shadow until he moved away. Maybe Maegor was on his back, but she wasn’t sure when he would slip out of his room to do so.

“Why don’t you join me? For dinner?” she asked without thinking. Alys’ eyes widened, shocked at her own forwardness. For all she knew, the men these women sat with could be involved in some kind of affair. Could they be escorts? But she’d understand it if she had somehow offended her, as this was all new to her entirely. The woman was not surprised or taken aback, but her smile grew.

“I would be honoured, lady Alys.” she said again, with her velvet voice and musical accent. She took the chair across from her and sat down, now facing her entirely. Her black eyes were mesmerising, making her want to lean in. It didn’t even seem to phase her that this complete stranger knew her name and the reason she was in Pentos.

“I’m glad, lady…” she trailed, hoping to put a name to the beautiful woman in front of her. She laughed slightly, shaking her head.

“Tyanna. I’m no lady, just a tavern dancer.” she smiled. Tyanna. She liked the sound of it. It fit her, Alys couldn’t really explain how or why, but the name fit her like a glove. It wasn’t so foreign to her, not like some names she heard being called around the city, but it had a nice ring to it. Alys pursed her lips for a moment.

“I didn’t expect a mere tavern dancer to speak the common tongue so fluently. There’s surely much more to you.” she smiled, feeling some of her initial nerves calming down. Amongst everyone she had met so far, she spoke the common tongue the best, even better than some of the merchants that travelled to Westeros. Surely, a mere dancer wouldn’t have much need for it, since Valyrian was more widely spoken in these lands, and her fellow dancers did not share this skill.

“I’d say there is.” she said almost teasingly, her smile contagious. She smiled like a fox, sly and knowing in a way that was almost playful. Alys liked it. She found herself staring at her face again, to Tyanna’s painted features, from her painted lids, her faintly coloured cheeks and finally to the bold red paint of her sharp lips. It would be unheard of to see a woman paint her face in such a way in Westeros. It was deemed acceptable to make one’s cheeks appear more flushed and a slight tint on the lips, but if Tyanna were to be anywhere on the continent, she’d be called many things. Many people found it ugly and unnatural for a woman to paint her face in such a manner, but now that Alys saw it on someone as beautiful as Tyanna, she decided she liked it very much.

“Then I’d love to find it out.” Alys said, matching her teasing tone.

Tyanna helped her order something to eat- well, it was more of a little bit of everything really. Lots of dishes that Alys had never heard of, or even imagined combining with what was combined, but it was all delicious. Tyanna laughed at her face when she accidentally took a bite of lemon and scrunched her entire face, and her laugh was so musical and hypnotic, it made Alys forget about the intense sour taste in her mouth. It was so good to have company, to have someone she could talk to, at long last. Someone who understood her and was interested in her life, while having one of her own.

She didn’t realise how much time had passed, until the owner of the tavern cleared his throat rather loudly. It was only then that Alys realised the tavern was practically empty, save for them and the two guards who looked like they wanted to go home. Alys paid for their big shared meal and suddenly felt incredibly sad that the night had ended. She felt sad that she had to say goodbye to Tyanna.

“Do you live nearby? My guards and I can walk you home.” she asked Tyanna, while they walked out of the tavern, onto the quiet street. The moon was bright and the hour was late, the night quiet without much noise, which was strange for such a boisterous city. Alys thought the streets seemed safe enough, but it would still be better to have guards with her.

“I do live nearby, but I feel like your home is further away and we’ll have more time to talk if I accompany you.” Tyanna said, as if she could see right through Alys. Maybe it should be more unnerving, but it was incredible to have someone who thought so similarly to her.

“Really? I’d love that.” Alys beamed, flashing her a grin, to which Tyanna chuckled. They walked back as slowly as they could, like they were stretching out the time they’d have together before they had to go their separate ways, much to the annoyance of the two men tasked to guard Alys. Perhaps she would feel bad, had she not been so wonderstruck.

“You’re not so eager to return to him? In my experience, newlyweds are rarely able to stay away from each other.” Tyanna teased her as they made their way up a small hill, overlooking the moonlit sea. From where they stood, Alys could see the place she’d have to call home for the next five years, and at Tyanna’s words, she looked up toward it.

“Oh…” she mumbled, unsure of what to say. In truth, she hadn’t given Maegor any thought since she started talking to Tyanna, but now that he was brought up… Perhaps it was the wine, perhaps it was the fact that it was late and the rest of the city slept, perhaps it was the moon overlooking them, perhaps all of it at once, but Alys felt a sadness overtake her for a moment.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Tyanna apologised, her brows furrowed with worry. Even when she looked slightly distressed, she looked unreal, especially with her pale skin kissed by the moonlight. Alys snapped out of the sadness.

“No, no. Actually, I’ve been yearning for someone to talk to about all this. Back home, my septa barely prepared me for what married life is truly like.” Arguably because Alys never paid any attention, but Tyanna didn’t need to know that. Her septa probably talked about it at length, but it never seemed important or exciting enough for Alys to pay attention. And now she wished she did, because maybe she could’ve learned something useful.

“Things are not as you expected them to be?” Tyanna asked softly, her black eyes understanding. Alys shrugged slightly. Maybe she’d understand. She wasn’t married, but she seemed to have experience with men, surely she’d get it, right?

“I cannot say. I suppose not.” she mumbled a bit. Maegor’s words rang in her head, to not embarrass him or his house. But this was not embarrassing him right? If anything, she could say that she was only embarrassing herself for not understanding men, but she doubted he’d care enough to be angry with her about this.

“Well, what expectations did you have?” the beautiful woman asked. It made Alys pause, before taking the leap to trust her and tell her something that would be considered very personal. The Prince did do everything he promised her he’d do, he gave her freedom, a life that was exciting and new, enough money to never worry about it, and yet she could not shake off this unnerving feeling that something was wrong. It was the way he was acting.

“Well, Maegor made his expectations of me very clear, but when it comes to… fulfilling them, he always sends me away.” she said quietly, like she was worried someone else could hear. She was nervous to look onto Tyanna’s face, worried that she’d find a look of pity or judgement, but instead she found that sympathetic smile.

“Ah… I suppose being away from home has really taken a toll on him. But you seem to be enjoying exile rather well.” she said, sensing that the topic was a bit sore. Well, not sore, but strange? Weird? But she couldn’t call her new husband that. He’d have her head for sure!

“Oh, me? I love it here! Back home, I’m from the Riverlands, my father is the head of a village. Yes, things were comfortable, but gods be good, it was all so terribly boring! Every single day, the same thing, the same people, the same places, nothing to do at all. I was so eager to finally leave it all behind!” Alys laughed, finding her good mood once more. They started slowly walking again, and she could swear she heard one of the guards sigh in relief that they were getting closer to home.

“You’re making it all sound so awful!” Tyanna laughed that musical laugh she had, playfully shoving Alys by the shoulder. Alys grinned, letting out a laugh of her own.

“It was! Imagine having nothing to do all day long, while your perfect little sister is a know-it-all, and the other, her little parrot! Oh, it was all dreadful.” she said, thinking back to her sisters. Was she supposed to miss them? Because she didn’t really miss anyone. Everything here was perfect. Maybe as more time passed, she’d miss them a bit, but nothing they ever did or could do, would live up to being where she was now, having all this freedom.

“I can see that.” Tyanna said, running a hand through her raven black locks. Alys wondered if she’d let her braid it. Not that Alys was good at it, but any excuse to come closer. It was like something was telling her to, like something was pulling them together.

“Do you have any siblings?” Alys asked, curious about the woman’s own family. She had told her about her father and siblings back in the tavern, but the conversation went somewhere else before she could think to ask her about her family. It’d be fun to have someone to complain about their families to.

“No- well, technically yes. I’m a bastard and my father has two trueborn sons.” she replied. Alys was caught by surprise, but she was embarrassed that Tyanna noticed. Even if she was a dancer, Alys never thought that she’d be a bastard. She didn’t know why, maybe because she didn’t really know any bastards, but it was just something that hadn’t crossed her thoughts at all.

“Oh… Are you close with them?” she asked, trying to make up for her surprised pause.

“No, no, my dear lady. My father’s wife tried to have me killed quite a few times. She hated that her husband had an affair with my mother, a nobody. My father is a magister, a lord of court of sorts, to speak it in your words, a man of influence. My mother, a mere worker in a shop. He did come to see me in secret when I was a child, and to his credit, he did send money to my mother to help raise me until I came of age. His wife wanted me far away from her perfect little family, but I know things. I’ve never spoken to my half-brothers, but I do see them from afar sometimes.” she explained further. Alys wasn’t sure what was more insane, the fact that someone tried to have her killed so many times, or the fact that Tyanna was speaking about it so casually, as if it were about the weather.

“I’m sorry, that must’ve been horrid! And here I am, complaining about my life.” she apologised, feeling so ashamed to have been complaining about her boring life, while Tyanna’s was so turbulent. Gods, what must she think of her now?

“Don’t be sorry. I laugh about it all now. Unlike the two perfect trueborns, I’ve made something of myself. They just drink and whore around, shaming their name and family.” Tyanna chuckled, but it didn’t reach her eyes this time. Alys was quiet for a moment.

“Do you like it? Dancing, I mean?”

“I enjoy it. But certainly not as much as you seemed to.” she teased, sending Alys a flirty smile, making her blush. Had she been so obvious about it? “It’s not my main job, though.”

“Ah, what do you do?” Alys asked with curiosity. It made sense, since she’d only be dancing at night in the taverns. Did it not pay well enough? Not that Alys could pretend to understand about all that, but still.

“I help my mother with the shop. She works at a tea and herb store and the man she works for opened a bigger store on the other side of town, so he left my mother in charge. She’s getting older, so I’m helping more and more, but I’ve done it for as long as I can remember.” Tyanna said with a fond smile. It was a connection Alys, again, didn’t think to make. She could imagine Tyanna being knowledgeable with herbs and things, she looked so smart.

“Are you two close?” she asked her. Alys was never close with her own mother when she was alive, but it seemed that Tyanna was very fond of her own mother. She wondered sometimes, what it would be like to be close to her mother.

“Yes, we’re close enough, though I was a bit of a nightmare in my youth, I can admit that now. But yes, it’s nice to spend time with her.” Tyanna laughed again, thinking back to her younger self. If she were to ask the septa, surely Alys would receive the same complaint.

“Must be great. I hope you don't get tired of tea when you work with it all day.” she laughed, looking over at Tyanna. They were much closer to her home now, much to Alys’ dismay.

“I’m an absolute specialist! You should come by, I’ll make you a blend, just for you.” Tyanna boasted jokingly, getting another laugh out of Alys. The invitation made her blush in anticipation. She wanted to see her again! She must be feeling this connection too!

“Well, how could I ever decline! What kind of blends do you make?” Alys asked, twirling her hair with her finger, her eyes ever so curious.

“All sorts. For sore throats, headaches, joints, fertility, energy, but they don’t all have to have a purpose. It can just be flavours you enjoy. What is your favourite flavour, Alys?” She loved the sound of her name in Tyanna’s voice. It felt so good to hear her say it. But one thing stopped her swooning. Fertility. This could help, could it not? Yes, if she drank it, it would make this weirdness with Maegor go away, as soon as she was pregnant, of course.

“I can’t really say I have one, I drink anything. You can have me try one of your favourites!” Alys blushed again. She wondered what kinds of flavours Tyanna would like. She couldn’t imagine her liking something sweet, or purely sweet. It just didn’t seem to fit her. Maybe something more exotic and fresh? “You… you said something about fertility?” she asked, hoping it didn’t sound so desperate.

“Yes. some women just need a little help to conceive, but- Forgive me, is it not too early to worry about this? You’re young, healthy, and barely married for a moon.” Tyanna seemed confused, looking over at Alys’ face. Her eyes held no judgement, but they did hold some curiosity, one that wasn’t malicious. So Alys took a deep breath, and told her.

“Well, you see, I don’t think my new husband is interested in sharing my bed and he really wants an heir, so I’d like to increase my odds, you know?” she tried to say it casually, like it wasn’t all so strange to her. Tyanna didn’t seem convinced of her point of view.

“I don’t think so. I think you just need to take a different approach with him.” she said kindly, her voice calming and gentle. Alys’ eyes were now the ones full of curiosity. An approach? Ah, she must be so stupid, was that why Maegor was so removed? Was she supposed to be the one to approach him? But it didn’t make sense. He would’ve just told her by now.

“What do you mean? What kind of approach?”

“Try to find what excites him. You said he was a blunt man, why don’t you just ask him? Men like that love taking full control. If you show him that you’re eager to please him, he’ll certainly turn his attention to you. I mean, how could he not? He’s surely not blind to the absolute beauty right in front of him.” Tyanna gave her another smile. How had her lips not faded after all the food and wine? “I have some friends who work in a pleasure house. They tell me that men tend to have a lot of preferences, more than you’d presume. For example, my friend, she has this client who will only lay with her if her hair is braided in two braids, because he likes holding onto them. Or another, who wants her to wear an intense red stain on her lips. There’s loads. I’m sure you’ll find your husband’s.” Tyanna spoke about it so freely, so shamelessly, it made Alys feel safe.

“Thank you, Tyanna. For the advice, for the evening, for everything. I’m so glad I’ve met you.” Alys smiled, genuinely. The advice was solid. It would all be fine. She had been right in her assessment, Tyanna was smart.

“I’m glad I’ve met you too. I hope to see you again soon. Will you come see me tomorrow at the shop?” she asked, sounding eager to see her, much to Alys’ delight. The guards seemed to be growing restless, now at the front door of the home, eager for the conversation to stop. Now Alys felt a little bad, because she was also growing tired and needing to go to bed.

“Absolutely! Where is it?” she beamed.

“In the main square.”

“Then absolutely yes! I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I’ll be waiting eagerly.”

With that, Tyanna turned around and left. Alys wanted to wait by the door and watch her, to make sure she was safe, but the guards all but ushered her inside. As Alys changed and lay in her bed, she couldn’t help but feel so happy. She met the most amazing person, and she was eager to see her again too! Her heart was fluttering and she fell asleep with a smile on her face, to dreams that were full of the beautiful dancing woman with the ink black hair and eyes and porcelain skin.

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