reason for leaving: super duper tired & i’ll probably get to things i owe (that’ll pop up later on) in the morning. goodnight sweetlings! i hope you all dream of lemoncakes and chivalry.
Truth be told he may as well had been gone one and eleven years. Traveling the Vale was not meant for the wary — it was vast and long. And the roads were even longer. But all of it was necessary. For the stability of his reign here and for Alayne’s own security. Luckily today, the weather permitted his haste return to the Keep and for once he relished the stone that kept the winter winds from bracing his slim form.
Finding her was easy. It wasn’t the birds that told him nor the time of day. But of pattern. For a girl who had not left her home and then kept prisoner for most of her first years abroad — surely the freedom of viewing this cold yet awe striking mountain would be the first this little bird would do. That — and the silence that rang the halls where normally the shrieks of their Lordling of the Vale. The man took to her little rooms where a balcony lay for her to peer.
A cautious step, as he pushed open her door — greeted by the small of her voice she came before him as he too settled within its confines. ” — and I have missed you Sweetling.”
”Aye — the road suits me just fine.” Lies, Lord Petyr knew. He hated the road. He hated the cold and the winds that came with such a venture. If it were not for the necessity in maintaining control and power — he would have long reigns here within the Eyrie walls. “I trust our lordling has kept you quite occupied?“
The Lord Protector walked the line of her chambers, moving until he came about the long skirts of her balcony shades. Their soft silk caressing the thick ends of his doublet. The finery of gold and brown shone against the waining light of day.
The light shown bright within the room despite the lack of sun peering through. The chamber she had been given was much more spacious compared to the room she obtained while her Aunt Lysa was still alive. It was perhaps the jealousy that nearly perspired from her aunt’s skin that caused her to live within such small walls. Nevertheless, the past was in the past, and her residence now gave her a view of the beautiful mountains that the Eyrie displayed. Never before had she taken light to the view, but she was thankful that she had.
Her chin nods with a smile sprayed across her lips at the asking of their lordling. Sneaking into her bed within the dark of the night, eating her lemoncakes, and overall absorbing all her attention within the remainder of time Petyr was gone. Alayne didn’t mind. To be truthful, she enjoyed taking care of the little lord. Acting like as a surrogate for his motherly needs. He took favor to her as well. Asking for her to tell the bathing maids to not scrub so roughly, for stories beyond stories at bed rest, and as she had spoken of before: lemoncakes.
There was an urge to greet her father with a kiss, but she contained it. Alayne knew little of his journey and if she remembered what the word fine meant, then it certainly wasn’t fine. She would much rather spare him one later in the day, when he was in a better mood. The darkened auburn had not kissed one who was upset or angered, and surely she wouldn’t wish to.
"Are you well rested?”
Words the dutiful daughter spayed as she moved to his side, fingertips touching along his embroidered sleeve as her hues sought up to his. Alayne did not like seeing her father so weary and gloom. Even if he did manage to voice his tone cheerfully, the hidden auburn could seek past it. Besides, traveling surely wasn’t comfortable, even within the Vale. Frail members move down his arm and take his hand grasped.
“Are you a princess, like in the stories?” The little girl inquired, peering up the lady. “You’re really pretty. You must be!”
The compliment tugged a smile to her lips. She shared the same auburn like hair Sansa had. Strangely enough, the young girl reminded her of her younger self.
Her words were cordial, the expected goodbyes from a daughter to a father, and yet she did not move to offer any affection. No kisses passed between them and only the barest of touch has been felt. When he was alone once more Petyr rested his fingers on the smooth weirdwood of his desk, pressing the tips down oh so lightly and playing the lingering memory of her over and over again in his mind. For she existed when she wasn’t even there, a shadow of mellifluous words and graceful movements. It was as if any space she inhabited held a memory of her.
The question of the kiss was pushed back, buried like so many other signs of weakness, his body covering it with scar tissue. The memory of it remained, just like the memory of Sansa, the memory of Cat, the memory of the duel, but the pain slowly faded, the danger falling away.
Petyr pressed his eyes shut. When he opened them he was able to sit once more, smoothing his hands against the parchment.
At ease, seemingly. Yet he slept little that night, his mind constantly working, never settling on one topic, and when he came to break his fast with her the next day it was in a bleary, but still alert, state.
“I trust you slept well, sweeting?” Cordial words, expected words.
Robert had spent the entire night in Alayne’s bed. It was improper, but he was a mere weak little thing. He would kiss her here and there, but out of gratitude and appreciation. Little boy kisses, she would call them. Sloppy and firm lipped. Nothing like her kiss with Petyr in the snow. Apart from the fact that he spent the entire night latched onto her his head on her breasts, she had slept very little. She would briefly wake within the night to feel the little lord trembling.
Alayne hated to see him in such a way, especially after how close the two had grown. Instead of calling on someone, she held him close to her chest, allowing him to absorb the warmth and eventually coax back into a deep rest. Nightshade would have been given if he did not stop after her embrace, but thankfully he did. Alayne had though it to be separation deprivation the little lord was going through after losing Lysa. However, he adjusted quite quickly to the situation. With her as his guide.
It was time for her to break fast. Truth be told, Alayne felt little hunger in the morning. It was as the day went on that hunger itself grew. Truly she had hoped for lemoncakes to be there. If there were, she knew that she would have to arrive soon before the little lord got to them first. Ever since she introduced them to him, he seemed to take quite the liking. She at first thought that it was because she liked them, but it seems Robert had a sweet tooth of his own.
She had made her journey down to the room where they would break fast and found Petyr already there. The Lord of the Vale was in the seat he would always sit in, right next to her own, munching on lemoncakes. Alayne exhaled quietly out through her nose as she moved to take a seat. Blue hues move toward the individual across from her as a voice perks the silence.
Before she had the time to speak, Robin spoke out about how much fun he had sleeping in Alayne’s bed. By the looks of the faint tired lines underneath her eyes, one could see how much fun she truly had.
“I may need to rest within the day.” She assured herself aloud.
She was an abnormality, and she was well aware. Men glared at her as she walked by, while their wives hid behind their back. Children were another thing entirely, since they were always so honest. For one, there had been a child who informed Katsa about the rumors people were spreading about her that she was a ruthless killer who broke men’s arms and cut of their fingers for fun. That was far from the truth, she only did it because she had to.
Kings Landing were a foreign city to her. King Randa was visiting the King of Westeros and would be here for a while, and of course he brought his Lady Killer. Noticing a girl glancing at her, Katsa turned around.
“May I help you?”
Her eyes were radiant. Perhaps they were abnormal, but surely there was beauty within them. Being part Tully, the auburn would always get compliments of her beautiful blue hues. However this woman surely was praised for her own. Two of different color, one green and the other blue. The blue orb reminded Sansa distinctly of the deepest and darkest places in the ocean. The other looked as if it was the shade of envy.
Before she was finished admiring, Sansa stumbled with her words.
"I apologize for prying, but your eyes are unlike anything I’ve ever seen before.“
She smiled at the young girl for a fleeting moment. “Alayne; a pretty name, my lady. I am Aenys, of House Targaryen.”
Targaryen.
Sansa had heard stories of the Targaryens long ago. However, Alayne had no knowledge of it. She was not a highborn daughter, but a bastard. To keep her cover, she must shield the upcoming memories that would flood into her temples.
“Yes.” he said, looking her over. “You must be new here.” he said. “Let me explain something to you. When they call for a headcount, you get your ass up and you stand here, unless you want a shot written up, you got that?” he asked.
He was so, rude. Tall, big and rude. Perhaps if she got his name she could alter into some childish rendition of a nickname that would actually fit his personality. Palms moved to her pants, grasping at her prison suit and pulling at it’s sides.
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