When Arianne had stepped into the room, Rhaella noticed how the room of seven women which consisted of, Elia, Ashara Dayne, Merida Whent, Lysa Tully, Catelyn Tully and Lyanna Stark, went silent. She had invited eight ladies to join her and Arianne was the last to show up, she seemed unfazed by the sudden silence, curtsied to her and Elia and sat next to her older sister. Elia was able to attend only because the tea was served in her room, to save her energy for a short appearance at the joust that would be held later that day.

"How was your morning?" Rhaella asked Arianne. The other ladies, Lysa, Catelyn, and Merida, seemed to cut her off from their giggles and hushed conversation. Elia, Rhaella, Ashara and Lyanna were the only ones who paid her any attention.

Early that morning, Ashara had rushed into the room after her breakfast to inform the Queen of the gossips she had heard. Rhaella merely smiled to herself and made Ashara vow not to tell the Princess of what she had heard. She would make sure that any rumour about her son and a girl who held a special place in her heart would be crushed by the next morning. Any soul who would be heard talking about it would pay with a finger.

That should teach them. Rhaella thought. Or not. She pondered. If she punished all the gossipers, she would be seen just as her brother-husband was, mad and delusional believing everyone was against her. Perhaps we should let the rumours die. She then told Ashara that Elia was to attend the feast that night if she could, dance with Rhaegar and prove to all those idiot lords and ladies that all was well. She had also slipped in that Oberyn and Arianne were excellent dancing together. There. If I keep Rhaegar away from Arianne the whole night, they'll think it was a one-time thing that is never to happen again.

"So I hear you have caught the eye of my brother?" Elia smiled. Her dark hair was twisted into a bun at the nape of her neck, her tiara delicately on top; one wrong move and that precious piece of jewellery would be in pieces. Her dress was a sheer golden one, Rhaella was very jealous that the Princess could have a child and her body seemed to bounce itself right back into place. She remembered how Aerys made her starve; he said he refused to have a fat Queen standing by him and laying with him after she had Viserys. She remembered how she forced food down her mouth out of spite.

She also remembered how Aerys had questioned her the night before. She had worn a long sleeved dress as to hide her bruises on her arm.

"Who is that girl? And don't lie to me and tell me she is Rickard's bastard. Nothing like that could be made in the North," he sneered as the door shut behind them. She heard the clanking of Barristan's armour; he had whispered to her that if she let out a cough, he would come into the room and inform that Lady Whent was calling on her. Barristan was Rhaella's only protection from her husband.

"She is a bastard," Rhaella responded sitting on the couch, Aerys following her and standing in front of her. She was so mad at him for allowing his beauty to fade away, at least then something good would be said of him. At least once.

"So you're telling me Rickard fucked Serene when you sent him on that trip to Dorne to 'ally with us'?" He said, looking at her with one brow raised.

Rhaella shrugged. "What Rickard and Serene did was between them."

"You sent him on the last day of the full moon. It takes nine moons to conceive and birth a child and almost three moons to travel from Dorne to the North. I may be mad, but I'm not stupid. That girl, you've kept her hidden from me. Why Rhaella!?" He shouted, grabbing her hands and shaking her violently.

"Because of who you are. You would've had her head cut in half before she even saw the world!"

"You sent Serene away because she was pregnant with my child?" He let go of her, his eyes somewhere else. "Joanna, you sent her away because she was with child too. Do you know what this means?"

"I saved four lives?" she said snapping back.

Aerys raised his hand and it hit her face violently. She felt a pang at the top of her brow, he was wearing his rings tonight. "We wouldn't be in this shit agreement with the Dornish, and they wouldn't be all over the Red Keep if it weren't for you. We could've married her to Rhaegar." He said, the rest of his sentence she could not hear. Her ears began ringing, and her head began to spin.

"My daughter living with my best friend. And Rickard, did he know of this?" He asked.

"No. I only told him the babe was to be fostered by him and sent to the Kings Landing once she had become women grown, to be a handmaiden for me." Rhaella responded.

"Oh, of course, you would." There was a silence. "I want her to come to Kingslanding with us. She will be Rhaegar's second wife. That witch, Elia won't produce any more children for us and this one is young and fruitful. Her womb is ready to give her brother all the sons he could want."

Rhaella wanted to scream at him, remind him of the brother-sister relationships that had caused the madness in their family, but how could she without him hurting her in one way or another. How could she when she saw the eyes of her eldest son light up at the very mention of the girl?

He had truly gone mad for he began muttering under his breath. "That'll teach him ... yes yes ... I'll use her to stop him from usurping his own father the traitor."

"Undress," he said walking over to the bed. Rhaella let out a loud cough, and Barristan pushed the door open. "Close the door Ser Barristan, you know better," Aerys said marching to the door and slamming it shut in Barristan's face. The last Rahella saw of him was his apologetic face. She knew he would never forgive himself, but she would always forgive him.

Afterall, not even a Queen could rule a King. Aerys turned back to her. "Have you turned into a fish? Would you like me to show you how to undress?" Aerys whispered nearing her. Rhaella did not want his hands near her, or his hair which smelt of something revolting. It was almost as if her body had frozen, he tore the dress from her body, and her underskirts threw her crown to the floor and pushed her to the ground. "A Queen or a bitch? Which will it be tonight?" Rhaella shivered. The only thing that kept her from crying out was to imagine the many ways Aerys would die one day.

She hoped it was with poison, a sweet kiss that would torture him for days. She wanted him to die on the Iron Throne, die where he had sentenced and killed so many innocent people. She wanted him to choke on his breath, grasp at his neck as he turned an ugly shade of purple and withered to the ground. She wanted there to be an audience, hundreds, and thousands as they watched the Mad King die. Even those thoughts couldn't keep her from letting out a pained cry.

"Oh trust me," Elia laughed. Rhaella must have missed the conversation because it looked as if Elia and Arianne were getting along splendid, much to Lysa and Merida's dismay. Rhaella knew that Elia would have a hard time coming to terms with another wife for Rhaegar, one more able, but once Aerys had his mind set on something, there was no going back. "Don't you agree with that, good mother?" Elia said, smiling at Rhaella.

Rhaella looked up from her teacup. "Pardon? Sorry I was lost in my thoughts for a moment."

"I was just telling Arianne how Oberyn would never let her rest until she married him."

"Oh, yes. You will not blink an eye with that man. He'll marry you in your sleep if you have caught his heart," Rhaella responded.

Arianne looked to Lyanna who squeezed her hand under the table; she was on her side. "I have not even thought of the word marriage yet," Arianne responded truthfully.

"Good." Elia sternly answered. "Once you a married you are like a bird locked in a cage, your wings will wane and your ability to fly will be forgotten. Be happy you have not married yet."

"Or maybe she much rather steals other women's betrothed," Lysa piped. Rhaella rolled her eyes, what a jealous little girl that one was.

"Maybe the problem is not with the girl, but the man. It could be he does not like his betrothed. Or does not care to honour her. Or said other women might have a hard time keeping her husband home because of his unfaithfulness," Lyanna responded. Rhaella knew she would grow to like Lyanna. She was honest and disallowed social boundaries to stop her from speaking her mind...clearly.

Lysa glared back at the two girls, she huffed and scoffed and rolled her eyes. Rhaella had no idea why she had invited her to tea in the first place. Curse you Hoster for creating such an insufferable child.

"It seems so, disrespecting the daughter of the Lord who is hosting her-"

"How may I ask did I disrespect you?" Arianne snapped, looking to Merida who had suddenly grown courage with her new friend.

"I chose Oberyn to dance with-"

"If you think that my brother will dance with one lady during an entire night, you do not know us Dornish very much Lady Merida," Elia responded, slightly smiling to Merida whose mouth was now sealed shut. "You and Arianne are free women, free to dance with whomever, to take air with whomever and speak to whomever. Do not turn against each other for men; we are all alike. They are the enemy, trust me when I say so." Rhaella couldn't agree more.

...

The horn had blown, and the lords, ladies, King, Queen, Prince's and Princess sat down in their assigned seats. The joust was to begin; Lord Walder Whent was to go against Brandon. Ashara did not know how that pairing had come to be, Walder was a small boy no older than five and ten, and for him to against the older and bigger Brandon, scared Ashara. She knew exactly who was going to win.

She looked around the bear pit; it had been transformed into that of a tourney pit. The King and Queen were seated in the tallest, largest stand right at the top and in the middle. Targaryen banners were flapping around in the wind behind them. On the Queen's right, Rhaegar and Elia sat, with Ashara on Elia's right.

Behind them stood Jonathon Darry, Arthur, and the Kingsguard Lord Commander, Ser Gerold Hightower. Each Kingsgaurd had his hand on his sword, and helmet over their faces, wearing clean white cloaks. The other Kingsguard, Ser Oswell Whent, Ser Barristan Selmy and Ser Lewyn Martell along with others she could not remember were situated at various other stands. Lewyn, to Ashara's surprise, had not made an effort to speak with his nephew Oberyn at all, in fact, Ashara wasn't even sure that Oberyn knew of his presence.

The Tully's sat on the opposite stand; it seemed that the Blackfish had decided to turn up and was seated next to his sisters. Lysa was whispering something to her brother, who seemed not to care but listened anyway. Catelyn looked as radiant as ever, beaming down at Brandon and waving at him timidly. Ashara felt sorry for the young girl, to be in a false love was the worst type of love.

"Where are we going?" Ashara whispered as Brandon led them out of the great hall. The feast was over, and they were one of the very last to leave, Brandon did not need people asking questions of his whereabouts.

"Shhh, just...take my hand and follow me," he whispered back. Most people would be settled into their beds by now, or sneaking away to get their fun.

"Don't shush me Stark!" She exclaimed as he took her hand. He led them through the various tents, carriages, rooms, and stables of the castle. They had gone well past the point of invitation, the particular part of the castle looked shunned and had not been taken care of for many years it seemed. Rubble lay everywhere, and Ashara could almost see the innocent workers of Harrenhal burning right then and there. She felt shiver even though the night was warm. They stopped in front of the Kingspyre Tower, the tallest tower in all of Harrenhal.

"How fast can you climb stairs?" Brandon asked, turning to her.

"No, no, no, no," Ashara sang moving away from him, their hands, however, were still together.

Brandon smiled at her. "Are you scared?"

"Yes actually, that tower looks like it could come down in a second. There is no way I'm sneaking up there for a bit of Sally on the side," Ashara huffed.

"Sally on the side? Is that what I am to you!?" Brandon exclaimed, clutching his chest with his free hand. "A silver for a kiss and gold for the whole package."

"For a Lord, you know a lot about prices of whores," Ashara snickered. They began the trek up the stairs. They were slippery, and both struggled to walk up them. Ashara took her shoes off, the rumble underneath her, in her view, would be easier to climb without heeled velvet shoes on. That wasn't true, for the moment her foot touched the warm stone step she was falling and with her Brandon fell. They didn't fall a long way, just a step or two; but both could agree that they both had a bruised ego...and bottom.

Brandon covered Ashara's mouth which had let out a yelp and squeal as she fell and she pushed it away laughing. "If someone hears you," he warned.

"They'll think I'm a ghost and run far far far away Stark, trust me," Ashara smiled putting her shoes back on.

The innocent small talk stopped there, Ashara did not know if it was the darkness or the terrible wine that had gotten her a little drunk that made her do it, but she did it. She pushed herself onto him, and they began to kiss. Pausing only for a moment to come up so she could ponder the thought of making love with another woman's soon to be husband. Shrugging she pulled him back into their kiss by his neck. He was Northern so she had expected him to not be as passive and gentle as her past lovers, but by the way, he lifted her with ease from the cold stone floor and onto her feet Ashara was worried she had put herself in bigger boots than she could fill.

"Meet me in my room," Brandon whispered, giving her ear a tender kiss.

Ashara smiled at him, batting her eyes. "No Brandon Stark. You meet me in my room." And with that she strode off back to her room, knowing full well that Brandon was only a few steps behind her. Once they had reached her room Ashara left the door ajar, just enough so that it would look closed bout could be pushed open without too much noise being made. She didn't care who saw Brandon, hells she didn't even care if Catelyn had seen them, all she knew was she wanted him badly.

Brandon entered her room a few seconds after she did, she had managed to close the large curtains that draped the windows just as he came in. he stood at the door, contemplating exactly what his father would tell him but shrugged off the extra worry. Standing on opposite sides of the bed, Brandon lifted the fur covers from the bed and threw them to the end.

Ashara gave him a pointed look and laughed at his eagerness. "I have a present for you Brandon Stark." She smiled, pulling the knots that held her dress together apart.

"Oh really?" Brandon asked, kneeling on the bed and helping her onto it. He didn't wait for her to gently pull the dress off and instead tugged at it until it tore. "Show me the present then," Brandon muttered. Unable to contain herself, Ashara pulled at his tunic roughly and heard one of the simple pins that held it together fall to the floor.

Brandon looked to pick it up but she turned his face back around. "Focus."

Brandon raised his brow at her, stopped his movements for a second. She stopped too wondering if she had said something wrong, but it seemed that he had planned for her unawareness, pushing her gently onto the soft bed and holding himself on top of her. "Ashara Dayne what have you done to me?"

"Shut up," Ashara mumbled, bringing his lips onto hers.

She was woken from her wonderful daze by the King who was yelling at the Queen, many great profanities coming from his mouth. The Queen put her head down and took them all gracefully; no one seemed to notice. Or they did notice and feared their eyes would be ripped from their heads if they dared look.

In front of the King and Queen sat Lyanna Stark next to Robert Baratheon. Arianne, Benjen, and Brandon sat to Lyanna's right, their banner standing proudly beside them. Ashara felt jealous of Lyanna and Robert, the entire time they sat at their stand, they whispered and laughed with each other.

It was rare that betrothals were this well-matched, even Elia and Rhaegar had not been so infatuated with each other at the beginning, Elia's mother had to force them to try and set aside their differences and find a little love between them. She caught a glimpse of Lord Whent whispering as well to his wife, but he was red, sweating and almost frothing, Oberyn would be the death of that man. Ashara struggled to remember the other lords and ladies names, only knowing them by house banner, the Lannister; much to her pleasure and their displeasure; were seated next to the Umbers.

Walder swung himself onto his horse, Brandon following his actions and the two nodded to each other. A squire handed Walder a crown of blue roses, and the stand became quiet. He placed the crown at the end of his jousting stick and rode slowly to the stand that held his sister. The one Ashara was seated at. He bowed his head and indicated for his sister to take the crown, and so she did placing it on her head gently as she beamed at her older brother.

"Lord Brandon Stark fights for the honour of his betrothed, Catelyn Tully. The Lord Walder Whent fights for the honour of his sister, Merida Whent. When you are ready men," a squire announced.

A second horn blew, and Walder returned to his side of the pole. Brandon, Ashara noticed, wore a steel armour, with a direwolf printed on it. Walder wore armour with nine bats printed on a yellow field. Brandon kicked his horse and Walder followed, the two charged at each other at speed Ashara had never seen before, and within a second, Walder was on the floor groaning and clutching his left shoulder, the same place Brandon had pointed his pole at.

Blood began to seep out of his armour and chain mail; a Maester hobbled to where Walder was lying. Two squires tore off his armour and chainmail, and the crowd saw specks of wood showing from his skin. Brandon returned to his post, waiting for the next man who dared challenge him. To Ashara's surprise, the King clapped his hands, throwing his head back in a way that she was sure it had broken. "That is a true Northern man," Aerys said to no one in particular.

The crowd followed along with his claps, Brandon's family the loudest, Lyanna screaming to her brother at the top of her lungs, Ned and Benjen clapping until the palms of their hands grew red and Arianne smiling at her brother.

That was a family. A real family. Ashara thought as Walder was helped off the floor and to a tent, and his brother Willias claimed a top his horse.

"Don't you just hate jousts? The gore makes me want to vomit," Elia whispered to Ashara.

Ashara couldn't agree more. "They seem to enjoy it," Ashara said pointing to the Westerosi who sat back down for the next tournament.