LYNORA. I should hope you are not offering yourself as my husband.
AEGON. And if I was?

Wind rustled the curtains, blowing them through her apartments. The metal of her cup felt cool in her hands. The sun warmed her back, lit up sections of the stone floors.

A young man sat before her, only a handful of years older than herself. He spoke with earnest, his tawny hair bouncing with each nod of his head or jerk of his shoulders.

"If you were to accept my offer, my lady," he said, "my house will be glad to welcome you. You will never need to ask for a thing, and I shall keep you well looked-after..."

Lynora leaned over to whisper, "And... Who have you brought before me again, Tyland?"

"Luthor Rowan," Tyland said after a moment's pause. "Son of Lord Thaddeus Rowan...?"

"Tell me, Luthor," she said, turning to face the young man. "Do you think I am not well looked-after in Casterly Rock?"

He froze. "Well― well, no, my lady... Not at all..."

"Then you understand I do not want for wealth."

"Of course, my lady."

"And that if I want to experience true wealth, I do not need to wed at all, and I could simply return to Casterly Rock."

Beside her, Tyland cleared his throat and said, "Thank you, sister."

Lynora smiled at the young man. "Thank you, my lord."

Luthor Rowan did not move. He gaped at her, his green eyes wide and flickering over every part of her, until she frowned at him.

"You are dismissed, my lord."

He scrambled to his feet, bowed hastily, and left her chambers. Lynora sighed and drained her cup, though she did not particularly like the taste of whatever Arbor gold her brother had poured for them.

She caught Tyland's eye and shook her head. "Don't speak. You'll sound like Jason."

"You cannot reject every suitor I arrange for you," Tyland replied.

"Father arranges them for me, not you," she retorted. "But if I could remain unwed for only a handful of years more, he could betroth me to a prince instead. Aegon, if the King wills it. Or Jacaerys."

"And... And what if he does not?"

"Then I will do my duty to the realm and wed whichever lord makes the best offer for my hand."

She said it as if it were obvious. Three years she'd been in King's Landing, and her opinions on marriage had not changed. It was a duty, one she had been prepared for since she knew what marriage was. The only difference was that she could now put her teachings into practice, as she had come of age not two weeks prior.

A knock came at the door then, and Tyland went to answer it. Lynora poured herself a second cup of wine. She would need some way to survive her next suitor, preferably with as little suffering as possible.

Rather than a suitor, Larys Strong shuffled into her apartments. He bowed his head to them both, saying, "I hope I did not interrupt your meeting."

She broke into a smile and glanced over his shoulder. "Leave us, Tyland."

Only after a long pause did Tyland leave her chambers, and Lynora at last breathed a sigh of relief. She motioned for Larys to sit, then threw herself onto the couch, kicking her feet up on the arm.

"What do you have for me today?" She asked, tracing her finger around the rim of her cup. "Something far more interesting than suitors, I hope."

"I wanted to ask if you were well," Larys replied. He shifted on the couch before saying, "You did not return to your chambers last night. I thought something might have happened."

Lynora's finger stopped its track around the rim of her cup, and she glanced his way. A wry smile crept onto her face. Praying she did not betray her own thoughts, she cocked a brow.

"What do you know?"

Larys gave a small shrug. "I had heard tell of your... Affinity for one of the stable boys."

"That is true enough," she replied. "But he took a liking to me first."

"It's a dangerous place, the city," he murmured. "Particularly for highborn girls."

Lynora only grinned. "Then I was lucky to have a guide."

No good would come from hiding her dalliances from Larys. She pushed herself to sit up, but she did not look away from him as she sipped her wine. She had learned not to show weakness, even to him.

It was not such a terrible thing, that belief. She knew that she intimidated even the oldest of courtiers. Another woman might have grown lonely, but she did not find herself wanting friends. It would not be wise to grow so close to someone that might one day have access to all her darkest secrets.

"If you must know, I did return to my chambers last night," she said. "But much closer to sunrise. And rather disheveled."

The stable boy had been handsome. And she had enjoyed flirting with him when she made her rounds through the palace. He was bold, making advances on a woman far above his station, but she liked it.

It was a shame, she thought, that she would never see him again. He had been a decent lover.

"I much prefer common boys to the nobleborn, anyway," she said. "No one believes them if they say they've bedded a Lannister."

"How astute of you, my lady," Larys replied.

Lynora smirked. "If that's all, I believe my brother would like to be let back into my chambers."

When he was at last invited back in, Tyland waited until Larys had shuffled away before he turned to her. She only smiled and set her cup down.

"Forgive me, brother," she said. "But I fear I have other duties to attend to... Ones that do not involve our father proffering my hand to half the realm."

━━━━━━━━━━━━

Lynora had not lied to Tyland when she told him that she had other duties to attend to. No, she had been quite truthful― she had been invited to tea with a handful of the other ladies at court.

They all disliked her. Some of the older women, mothers and grandmothers themselves, regarded her with curiosity rather than terror. Others shot her looks of thinly-veiled disgust when they thought she could not see them. Even Queen Alicent gave forced smiles and curt answers when she spoke.

"I thought I would congratulate you, Your Grace," Lynora said during a lull in conversation. "On the birth of your grandson."

The Queen nodded, smiling faintly. "Thank you, Lady Lynora."

"But, of course, Prince Joffrey is a child by the King's daughter, Princess Rhaenyra," she added. "I thought that surely there would be news of your own children's babes by now."

Silence fell over the sitting room, save for the occasional rustle of wind through the curtains and clink of a teacup being set down. Queen Alicent fixed her with a look, her hand hovering over the small biscuit on the plate before her.

Lynora merely smiled and tilted her head. "Prince Aegon has come of age now, has he not? And Princess Helaena is almost a woman grown."

"What of your own betrothal, Lady Lynora?" Another noble girl, Myranda Belmore, piped up, before the silence dragged on too long.

"I came of age but two weeks ago," she replied. "Soon, I am sure, an offer will be made."

"But haven't offers been made already?"

"None that please a Lannister."

She fixed Myranda Belmore with a thin smile. The girl quailed immediately and interested herself in the ornate embellishments on the side of her cup.

Lynora had never liked Myranda Belmore― or Celia Mooton, for that matter. Myranda had too-wide eyes and a perpetually ruddy face. Celia was a plump girl with dark hair, who had married some Tarly boy the year before. Myranda had not yet been wed, but the day would surely come.

Some good did come of her illicit habits, Lynora realized. She heard things, yes, but she saw things as well. One of the lords' sons at court sneaking towards Myranda's bedchambers in the dead of night, or Celia's Tarly husband fawning over a stable boy in the training yard.

When tea had ended and all the other ladies had left, those two remained, giggling among themselves. She did not miss how they stared at her, how they dropped their voices as she drew near.

"I thought I might join you," she said, smiling. "I have so few friends mine own age."

The girls exchanged a glance, then giggled. Finally, Celia Mooton said, "And what would you discuss with us?"

"Oh, anything." She gave a small shrug and added, "What did you find so amusing just now?"

"Nothing of consequence," Myranda said quickly.

"No?"

"I am to return to Maidenpool soon," Celia declared. "To visit my father. I would have invited you to join me, but... I fear you would not be allowed past the gates."

Lynora cocked a brow. "On what grounds?"

"Well, it's Maidenpool," she said, dropping her voice. "I do think that only maidens can truly appreciate its beauty."

She broke into a grin then, and Myranda giggled behind her. Lynora smiled thinly, though she did not say anything. They could have their fun first. She would have her turn in due time.

"Did you enjoy the tea they served today?" Myranda asked, though she was fighting to hide her grin. "It wasn't moon tea, but I thought you might enjoy it all the same."

"Perhaps it's best if she only drinks moon tea," Celia exclaimed. "We wouldn't want any little Strongs running about!"

The pair practically fell upon themselves then, going off into fits of laughter. For all her composure, Lynora found herself inwardly fuming. It was not the first time that she'd heard the rumors, but no one had been so bold as to say them directly to her.

She only watched as Myranda and Celia laughed to the point of tears. When they had finally composed themselves, she nodded, then smiled at them.

"I noticed you didn't drink any wine when we took our supper together four days ago, Myranda," she said. "I myself am not fond of the taste, but I have not been tying my dresses at the ribs. I do hope your lord father hasn't heard that his precious daughter is carrying Samwell Costayne's bastard."

Myranda's wide-set blue eyes began to fill with tears. Lynora delighted in seeing that the girl's hand had drifted to her stomach. She turned her attention to Celia then, who was gaping at her with a reddening face.

"And perhaps you should refrain from calling me a whore," she murmured. "Though it's a pity that your lord husband will not touch you, that is no issue of mine."

The smile that graced her lips as she stepped into the corridor was the most genuine one she'd worn in days.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

Aemma Waters had not become any less obnoxious in the three years since Lynora's introduction to court. She had grown some, yes, but she had not matured. And more egregiously, she still believed that she could continue befriending princes without consequence.

Ser Criston did not let her train with the princes, but she watched from the side of the yard, jabbing at the air with a wooden sparring sword. Other handmaids giggled at the sight of her as they passed by.

And it was laughable when she turned and said, "Spar with me, Lynora! It's alright!"

"I've no intention to dirty myself by fighting handmaidens, Aemma," Lynora replied.

Her shoulders sagged and she nodded. But to Lynora's dismay, the girl could not keep herself quiet to save her life. Not that she had been able to at six years old, anyway.

After a moment's pause, she piped up again. "Do you have a husband yet?"

She scoffed. "I've only entertained three suitors. No, I do not have a husband."

"Do you like boys?" Aemma asked. "Boys that aren't suitors?"

"I've no use for them."

"You don't find anyone handsome?"

Lynora frowned at her. "I never said that. But I don't have feelings for any boys."

"Oh." She shrugged and began to practice her parrying again.

"Do you like any boys, Aemma?" She asked, her voice shifting into a singsong tone. "They don't have to be common boys. Maybe even a prince―"

"No!"

"Liar."

Aemma frowned. "Jace is my closest friend."

"Yes, and..." Lynora smirked. "I'm sure that's not all."

"I'm going to be his sworn protector one day," she said. "When he's the King, I can't feel anything for him."

"I'm sure your mother would say otherwise," she murmured.

She kept her voice low enough that Aemma couldn't hear, and glanced up at the balcony overlooking the training yard. The King sat there, with Lyonel Strong peering over his shoulder. She wondered just whom he had come to watch― his boys, or the little bastard girl he favored?

Aegon and Aemond had been sparring against Ser Criston, and Lynora resumed watching their little skirmish. She had always known that Ser Criston was masterful with a sword, but he proved his skill as he sent both boys sprawling.

Ser Harwin had been patrolling the yard, and he spoke up while the princes recovered. "Seems the younger boys could do better with a bit of your attention, Ser Criston."

"You question my method of instruction, ser?" Ser Criston asked.

"I merely suggest that that method be applied to all your pupils," Ser Harwin replied.

While Ser Criston was busy with the older princes, Jacaerys had meandered over to Aemma. He had shown her another way to swing her sword about, and he was smiling at her when Ser Criston grabbed him by the breastplate and tugged him back to the yard.

"You spar with Aegon," Ser Criston said. "Eldest son against eldest son."

"It's hardly a fair match," Ser Harwin called.

"I know you've never seen true battle, ser, but when steel is drawn a fair match isn't something anyone should expect."

Lynora found herself smirking. She would like to see the boys fight, though she knew which way the match would go. At her core, what she wanted was to hear more of the bickering between the knights instructing them.

It was a quick scuffle. Aegon did not let up, and landed blow after blow upon Jacaerys's blade until he reached out and pushed the boy to the ground. Beside her, Aemma inhaled sharply.

Jacaerys attacked him then, striking out with less restraint than before. Aegon dodged each strike and pushed one of the straw dummies in the boy's direction with a surprising deftness.

Ser Harwin immediately stepped in, calling, "Foul play."

"I'll deal with him," Ser Criston retorted.

Aemma frowned as each boy was led aside by their instructor. "Aegon's not being fair."

"There is no fairness in a battle, Aemma," Lynora replied. "If you try to fight nobly, you'll die before you ever see glory."

"I'll be a fair knight," she grumbled.

"Then I'll tell Ser Harwin to ready your funeral shroud," she shot back.

Aegon swung at Jacaerys then, and they quieted down. Lynora did not know what to make of their movements, or the words of advice Ser Criston barked as Aegon pressed forward, but she watched on. When Aegon kicked Jacaerys to the ground, she only raised a brow and glanced at a fuming Aemma.

Don't let him get up, Ser Criston had said. And Aegon did not. It was only when Ser Harwin stepped in and pushed him aside that he stopped swinging his blade.

"You forget yourself, Strong. That is the prince," Ser Criston said.

"Is that what you teach, Cole?" Ser Harwin asked. "Cruelty to the weaker opponent?"

Aemma had vanished from her side. Lynora glanced around, only to see the girl offering her hand to Jacaerys. Another girl had stepped into the yard― Princess Elaena, the boy's younger sister. He brushed them both off, kicking at a patch of dirt by his feet.

"Your interest in the princeling's training is quite unusual, Commander," Ser Criston said. "Most men would only have that kind of devotion for a cousin, or a brother..."

He smirked. "Or a son."

Not a moment later, Ser Harwin lunged at him. Lynora found herself inwardly wincing with each heavy blow he landed on Ser Criston. Still, she could not tear her eyes away from the scene.

It took four other men of the Kingsguard to pull Ser Harwin away from the battered and bloodied Ser Criston. As they did, she thought that he certainly had earned the nickname "Breakbones."

"Say it again!" Ser Harwin bellowed. "Say it again!"

As the Kingsguard led him away, Lynora stepped forward. Aemma stayed with her princelings― and little Elaena Velaryon, who had taken to holding her hands over her ears. But rather than the Velaryon boys, she had taken an interest in the snickering Prince Aegon.

"Quite the spectacle, wasn't it?" She asked as she sidled up to him.

"I'd say it was deserved," he replied, though he dropped his voice. "Been years in the making."

She gave a small laugh. "I meant your performance in the yard today, my prince."

Aegon's cheeks flushed a light pink. He thrust his sword into a slot on the rack, mumbling something under his breath. To her, it sounded a bit like "I've been improving."

Still, when he turned to her, he bore no sign of any embarrassment. He only smirked and said, "I hear you've been contemplating marriage now, my lady."

"I have," Lynora replied. "Regretfully."

"None of them please you, eh?"

"I should hope you are not offering yourself as my husband."

Aegon raised a brow. "And if I was?"

Lynora stopped at the edge of the yard, and she turned to face him. He had not lost his easy grin, nor had he grown any less indecent over the years. But she rarely gave him the chance to be in such close proximity to her, so he jumped at the opportunity when it arose.

"I do believe that is a matter for our families to decide," she said.

"But you would not oppose it," he countered.

"I could be promised to a man as old and ugly as your father the King, and I would still do it because it is my duty," she retorted. "I said nothing about wanting it."

Aegon took a step forward, saying, "I'm sure I could sway you―"

"Will you deflower me? Ruin my name so I have no choice but to wed you?"

"Would you want me to?"

He stepped closer again and snaked his arm around her waist. Dropping his voice, he added, "You know, I've never heard any complaints about my... Prowess."

Lynora smiled. "Then I would hate to be the first."

Aegon stiffened, but he collected himself quickly and said, "Come, my lady. I want to show you something."

She had initially been suspicious. To be led away by a boy with a reputation such as his would be to cause something of a stir at court. Larys Strong had already approached her once that day with knowledge of her affairs.

When she broke away from him, he did not protest. And when she instead linked their arms together, he only grinned at her and tugged her along.

Aegon led them towards a wheelhouse in the neighboring courtyard, and to her relief, a knight of the Kingsguard offered to accompany them. Still, Lynora found herself alone in the wheelhouse with Aegon as they rode along.

"Where exactly are you taking me, my prince?" She asked.

"The Dragonpit," he replied. "I want you to meet my dragon."

A foolish thing, she wanted to say. Did he think she would be any more favorable to him because he had a dragon? Did he think that she would give in so easily to his wishes?

Still, she glanced out the small window of the wheelhouse, at the houses of the smallfolk as they rattled on down the cobbled streets of King's Landing. Surely she could find some good in their excursion. A wedding might even come of it.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

Lynora found herself wrinkling her nose as they ventured further into the Dragonpit. It stank of something― dragonhide, she guessed― and the air around them felt stale. Still, she kept a cool smile plastered on her face.

A pair of Dragonkeepers stepped into the center of the Dragonpit, staffs in hand. Something glinted in the shadows behind them, writhing and snaking its way towards the light.

She took a handful of steps backward when the beast finally reared its head. A golden dragon stood before them, shimmering in the torchlight. It regarded her with beady eyes, and she fought to keep calm as it lurched closer.

Its long neck bent down, and she jumped back, her heart pounding. The dragon instead turned towards Aegon. It nudged him squarely in the chest with its snout, but he only smiled and looked her way.

"Beautiful, isn't he?" He remarked.

"I suppose so, my prince," Lynora replied.

He beckoned her closer with one hand. "Come on. Sunfyre won't do anything that I don't command him to do."

She doubted that. Dragons were dangerous beasts, and she did not think that one would be any less dangerous simply because it had a rider. Still, she inched her way towards the dragon at his request.

Aegon took her hand in his, and she whipped around to glare at him. He only smirked and brought it up to Sunfyre's neck.

Dragonhide was rough, she noted. Sunfyre's scales shimmered as she passed her hand over them, and she found herself smiling faintly― not because she liked petting a dragon, but because she had not been eaten.

"He likes you," Aegon was saying. "He's easy to please, too. Makes for a good companion."

Lynora only half-heard him. As she ran her hand along the side of Sunfyre's snout, she murmured, "He's wonderful."

She heard the lilt in his voice as he added, "I'll bet he wouldn't mind if you took him for a ride."

"Don't test your luck, my prince."

She had taken on a stern tone then, but her gaze softened when she glanced at Aegon. He only meant to extend an invitation, she tried to tell herself. Still, she did not think that it would be wise to let him take her away on dragonback.

"I am a lioness," she reminded him, "and lionesses are not suited for the skies."

"They also call you a crow," he replied, grinning. "I do think those are found in the skies."

She smiled. "Perhaps I'll humor you another time."

Sunfyre nuzzled his snout against her then, sniffing at the neckline of her dress. Lynora found herself grinning as she glanced towards Aegon again.

"It seems he takes after his rider."

Aegon laughed faintly. After a moment's pause, he said, "You know, you are the first lady I've taken to meet him."

"Is that what this is?" She asked. "A way to win my hand?"

"No― no, it's―"

"Never mind it, then," Lynora said. She turned back to Sunfyre, who gave a shake of his golden head and poked around Aegon's tunic some more.

She watched on as he patted Sunfyre, lost in thought. A pretty dragon would not sway her. Neither would a simple good deed. And Aegon had a reputation for lechery, one that made her wonder how many of his unusually kind actions were but a ploy to lure her into his bed.

Then she kicked herself for those thoughts. Aegon was the crown prince! To wed him would be to achieve her dream, would it not? She could one day be Queen, and her children the heirs to the Iron Throne. Should she not accept his advances as he made them?

No. Aegon did not want her to wife, she reminded herself. He wanted a pretty girl in his bed, and she was the lady he spoke with most often. He thought he could charm her into giving herself up to him with dragons and honeyed words.

She realized that wedding him would be no different. Even as King, even with a wife, he would be happy to entertain whores and sink into his cups night after night. She would be a broodmare, given attention only when he staggered into her bedchambers and fumbled around between her legs.

That was all he wanted, anyway. What lay between her legs.

Lynora did not speak much for the remainder of their time in the Dragonpit. Aegon tried to make conversation, but she kept her responses clipped and angled herself away from him during the ride back to the Keep. He had nearly won her over with his dragon― she would not be so blind again.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

When she at last reached the Red Keep, Lynora trudged back to her chambers, hoping to have a moment's rest before someone called her to supper. And yet, when she entered her chambers, she found Tyland sitting on the couch.

"I hope you did not spend all afternoon waiting for me, brother," she said dryly.

"I thought we might talk," Tyland replied. "Now. Please."

She raised a brow. His voice sounded almost strained, and she turned away from him to hide her grin. He did not often succeed in ordering her about. That evening would be no different, it seemed.

"And what would you like to discuss?" She asked as she poured herself a cup of wine.

Tyland coughed and said, "Your courtship."

"I have plenty of prospects," Lynora replied. "I do not see any issue with the way I conduct myself in the search for my husband."

"That... That's not what I wished to discuss," he said.

"Oh?" She raised her cup to her lips and murmured, "Do elaborate."

"Larys Strong."

Lynora laughed. She laughed into her cup of wine, shook her head as she set it aside. And then a smile crept onto her face, and she turned to face her brother, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

"Is that it?" She asked. "Do you truly think so little of me, Tyland?"

Tyland looked rather pale then. "I do think highly of you, but―"

"You believe the rumors then."

"Lynora―"

"You think that I am ruined," she continued. "That Larys Strong takes me to bed and deflowers me night after night."

He coughed again and glanced away, mumbling, "I... I did not say I subscribed to these rumors..."

Lynora gave a bitter laugh. "Even I am not so depraved."

The rumors had not shocked her, the first time she had heard them. She was a beautiful young woman that spent much of her time with a haggard cripple twice her age. Both of them were unmarried, and had been since they were first seen together. He came unannounced to her chambers, and she to his. Truly, it would have been more concerning if nobody suspected them of some obscene misdoings.

"Do you think me a whore?" She implored him, her lower lip trembling. "Does... Does Father know what they say?"

"No!" Tyland managed to blurt out, and he ducked his head, fiddling with his hands. "No. Father does not... No."

Lynora broke into a meek smile, and she threw her arms around him. "Oh, thank the gods. I... I thought..."

She trailed off then, and instead buried her face into the cloth of his tunic. Tyland's breath hitched, but he eventually brought a hand up to pat her on the back.

"None of it's true," she said, pulling away. "I'd never risk my honor that way. You know it better than anyone, Tyland."

"Of course," he said, though his brows knit together at her words. "I... I am sorry that I did not come to you first."

He left her with another stiff embrace and a feeble smile. She watched his smile drop as he turned away, but it did not wound her to think he did not believe her. He could have his doubts, but she would know the truth.

When the doors to her chambers had shut, Lynora smirked and wiped away her tears. Tyland was so easily deceived, so easily weakened by her, and all she had to do was sniffle a handful of times. Jason never would have been so quick to believe her.

In the weeks that passed, she doubled her efforts to quiet the rumors. She made more trips to the rookery and spent half her nights creeping through the hidden passageways in the Red Keep. And the highborn ladies that whispered about her began to quiet themselves at long last.

To appease Tyland, she invited a handful of suitors to join her for a second meeting, or even a third. But it was Prince Aegon she courted, though he attempted to bed her time and again. It was his birthright that she sought, his future titles she wished for her own children.

And yet it was Helaena who won his hand.

Lynora had not spoken much to the girl, but she had once spent an afternoon with her for the sake of appearances. Helaena had been more preoccupied with her spiders and beetles than the noblewoman she was supposed to be hosting.

It might have amused her that such a dreamy, absent-minded girl was promised to Aegon, of all people, had she not been infuriated that her efforts to wed him had been made in vain.

"She's an idiot," Aegon declared as they walked through the halls of the Keep.

"You should speak more fondly of your sister, my prince," Lynora replied dryly. "She will soon be your wife, and the mother to your children."

"I'd rather wed one of the sheep they feed to Sunfyre."

After a measured pause, she said, "It would do you well not to say these things when they could easily be repeated to the Queen."

He turned to her then, dropping his voice. "Of course, my impending marriage is not going to confine me to just one woman..."

"I am nobody's mistress, my prince," Lynora retorted. "And certainly not yours."

She left him there, alone on the landing of a staircase. Her face burned as she made her way through the palace, her pulse thrumming in her ears.

Why continue to proposition her?, she thought to herself. What good came from it, other than a chance to wet his cock? Had she misjudged how stupid Aegon truly was?

She wished she knew why that one instance infuriated her so. Aegon had never been shy about wanting to bed her, and it certainly had not been the first time he had invited her to lay with him. Why would this be the tipping point?

She remembered what she had told herself back at the Dragonpit: that was all she was. A pretty woman with the ability to pleasure him. He did not take note of her cleverness, or her maturity, or any other traits that were not her golden hair and the swell of her breasts beneath her dress's bodice.

A couple walked by her in the halls, talking to themselves in hushed whispers. As they passed, she heard one of them murmur something about a fire at Harrenhal, and the deaths of both Lyonel and Harwin Strong.

Lynora pulled up short. Lyonel and Harwin Strong had died in a fire? She had not thought about them much since they had returned to Harrenhal following the fight in the training yard. Everybody at court suspected Harwin of fathering Princess Rhaenyra's children after that, and she had more pressing matters that concerned her.

But they were dead. All thoughts of Aegon and his maddening behavior left her then, replaced by the thrill of excitement that she so often felt when presented with new information. This would be quite the story.

Larys Strong did not bat an eye when Lynora entered his chambers. She hardly ever knocked or announced that she would be coming to see him, and she supposed that he had grown accustomed to her brazenness.

But that night, she did knock. And when he told her to enter, she did not fling herself down on the couch opposite him, but stood before him and bowed her head.

"I thought I would offer my condolences," she said. "I heard the news of your father and brother's passing."

"A terrible thing," Larys replied, glancing up from the book on his lap. "But I suppose it should not be unexpected. Harrenhal is a cursed place, my lady."

"Of course."

She finally sat down, saying, "I did find it interesting, my lord, that they met the same end as Harren the Black. Both of them burned alive, high in the towers of the castle..."

"It is said that Harrenhal passes judgment on all that pass through its gates," he murmured.

"And how poetic this judgment is," she replied. "They believed themselves to have outsmarted the King by parading your brother's bastards about the place as Laenor Velaryon's sons. And for their hubris they were struck down, just as Aegon the Conqueror struck down the prideful Harren the Black."

Larys only smiled and turned a page of his book.

"But how convenient their passing is for you." She smiled. "You stand to inherit all of it. The castle, the coin..."

"I suppose we must all find some way to comfort ourselves in such dark times."

"Mmm. And what a comfort it is, owning the largest castle in the realm."

"The gods are cruel," he said, and met her gaze. "Taking what we desire most, right when we believe it is in our grasp..."

Lynora raised a brow. "I suppose we both have sustained losses these last few days. At least you've a castle to show for it."

"Aemond will be next to come of age," Larys said. "I'm sure then you will have your prince."

She merely scoffed. Perhaps Aemond would be a better husband than his brother, but it was his elder brother who would become King. What good was a second son to her?

"I suppose I should call you Lord Strong now," she said. "And I suppose that, as Lord Strong, you have your own matches to make, now that your father is dead."

Larys glanced up from his book. "Are you proposing I arrange a marriage for myself, my lady?"

"Could you even find a willing wife here?" Lynora shot back.

Then, shaking her head, she added, "No. But there is the matter of your sister to think about. She's far older than I am, and still unwed."

"I've already sent word to Reina," he said. "She is to travel to Oldtown on the morrow, where she will meet with the suitors I have arranged for her."

She smirked. "Well. Haven't you been busy."

"These sorts of things wait for nobody, I fear," Larys said with a faint smile.

Lynora stood then, smoothing out her skirts. "Then I will be eager to see what else this new development brings about."

A new development. That was all it was, in truth. Larys had never cared much for his own family, and neither had she. They were not heartbroken to hear of the tragic passing of Lyonel and Harwin Strong.

His sudden ascension to becoming Lord of Harrenhal was masterfully planned, and Lynora knew that she certainly wouldn't be bored in the coming weeks. Larys was a confidante of Queen Alicent, and if she could aid him in whatever deeds the Queen asked him to carry out, she would. With pleasure.

The thought almost made her forget her own failures in recent days. But that was no matter. Aegon would wed Helaena, and she would bide her time. She did not need to wait for the gods to smile upon her― she would take fate into her own hands, if she must.

birdie's comments!

lynora kicking her feet up on the arm of the couch when larys came to visit her was dangerous work on her part LMAO

i love young aegon he's goofy and stupid and i like to forget about the window thing. i mean cmon he offered that dragon ride to lynora like PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE CAN I BE THE DRAGON

rip to the chances of them being that married couple that hates each other. like it 100% would have happened. aegon, a literal targaryen prince, was only going to marry someone from a great house (LIKE A LANNISTER!), and lynora was doing all the work to appease tyland/their dad/viserys so they could get married and she could be the queen ughgdfhghjfh

however alicent thinks lynora is a freak of nature that's been "ruined" by the foot man so it wouldn't have happened even if she didn't pick the incestuous marriage route :/

like she did all that to avoid marrying helaena and jace?? jace/helaena and lynora/aegon was the BEST possible route alicent use your HEADDD