279 AC

A Song of Dreams and Starlight

By Odeveca

8: Ti

Leila sat at the long curved rectangular table. The very same the Targaryen royal family, King, Queen, son and betrothed sat to publicly dine for the twelfth night in a row.

The restless other Great Houses, their families and guests, seemed to be in the same spirits for the promised wedding that seemed more distant with each day that passed it by.

Leila was mourning the time she had already lost waiting for the wedding that seemed postponed each week for some other guest that had yet to arrive. The time excruciatingly slow.

Although, truthfully, what she dreaded most was if the King would call her once again to sing before his Court.

The mere memory of her father calling her forth to sing for him left her feeling sick now. How she wished she was with him now, she dreamt most nights of singing him to sleep, rubbing his cold clammy hands that she wished to kiss again and again. Almost feeling as if he was there in her dreams too, reaching between the miles that separate them, only to comfort her as none ever did.

That happy thought did nothing to make her time easier, perhaps it made it worse. Even when the King did not ask for her, it left her with no joy. Perhaps King Aerys had forgotten she even had the talent of song in the first place, and to make it worse Prince Oberyn's nagging teasing shadowed her as if she loved the King's attention and missed it now that he was otherwise occupied with various hunts with his guests in the Kingswood.

Leila, believing she was now invisible, felt conscious of the longing the other Houses had of finishing this affair too, but most especially the easily irritable Dornish courtiers'.

She watched them with less trepidation now that their rumors of her had abated. Princess Elia had even met with her twice, only for a few words, but that had resolved all blatant hatred from her House and theirs.

In a way, the shared homesickness seemed to bring the Houses together, this faux imprisonment that kept in King's Landing, was just the right amount of ammunition for friendships and trysts to start growing, at least the whores and gambling houses were getting richer, but still home was what many guests in King's Landing longed for.

Even Ser Denys, whom had fallen silently into his role as her protector, seemed as if he longed for home. The ghost of his once flirtatious and bright self could notice when she too felt tense. Especially whenever she was forced within the proximity of the Crown Prince and his calm-hearted betrothed, the anxiousness of their first day haunting her still, his beating, her song.

"Do you wish to leave?"

"Yes, thank you Ser Denys." She wanted to leave, she wanted home.

When she took his arm to leave on many occasion, she felt the distance that had clawed its way between her and the once so bright Ser Denys. Leila blamed him, he was the one. He went out more often any of her guards to Blackwater Bay and some said even Fleabottom. Bard and many of her lazing guards spewed rumors that their once so talkative Captain found his mouth occupied between the legs of a….

Leila could not even think it. Alyssa would murder him for doing such things with woman of the night, and perhaps her too for not even pushing him to vent out what was troubling him so.

Instead here she was, playing the role of the Queen's so-called mouse, she was thankful to not have the pleasure of having the company of the Targaryen family, at least she was free of provoking any of the hot-tempered family, or worse being in the company with him. She had turned into a blushing mess at the mere mention of Ser Arthur. Leila was sure she would combust if they were ever introduced, and what in seven hells would be said then…

Thankfully she was far enough away from any Targaryens, and their ever-immovable statues of white-caped Kingsgaurd, far enough not even to hear their voices, or those whom meddled with their lives.

More specifically, Leila was sitting with the ever present, ever clever smiling and drinking Prince Oberyn, whom was laughing gaily, quite rudely too with his Uncle Lewyn whom he couldn't seem to leave alone, and to her right sat the Lady Olenna Tyrell's daughter Mina Tyrell.

She turned to her right most dining nights, smiling at Mina that seemed close enough to her age. She seemed more woman by the look of her, she was so pregnant that her belly hugged the gilded and most extravagant table of the Great Hall. Whenever the Tyrell girl, Redwyne by marriage, looked her way, Mina would have a kind Southern smile for her, and some motion to some delicacy of the finest food or ale, she did not know the name to before.

Leila smartly smiled back, exchanging some words on the impressive dark glass windows of the Great Hall, reflecting the fireplaces from inside like orange balls of some Valyrian magic, the brass and black pointed chandeliers above seemed daunting from their view, intimidating, but beautiful nonetheless. She remarked on what would happen if one of them fell on them.

Mina Tyrell had an answer for everything, "at least then we wouldn't have to suffer through another grand feast."

They both laughed, not seeing the danger in it. She doubted they would become fast friends with perhaps just another longwinded week until the greatly anticipated royal wedding. Leila enjoyed their little quick-witted banters; the Queen of Thorns' daughter was no danger compared to the dragon family and Great lion with his massive Hound…

"You're scared of the Mountain?" Mina spoke up when she caught her staring at the mountain over Tywin's shoulder. "I don't blame you, people say he is still a child, but look at him, I believe he frightens us all with that mean dog helmet."

"Only a child," Leila could not believe it, he was bigger than most men, and if he grew bigger…seven help those that stood against him, "but he's so large for one so young,"-

"Oh yes," Mina agreed. Her voice just a whisper. "A man with a talent for killing, says the Lannisters, I am sure Lord Tywin was grooming him for the Kingsgaurd when he wanted his daughter to marry the Crown Prince, to protect his daughter from the King some said- oh but I should not have said that. If anyone heard me-"

"No, it's fine, I understand," Leila knew her share of moments of saying the wrong things her first week in King's Landing. The Lady Leila Arryn touched her wine filled goblet, showing her growing friend it's true contents. "I only drink water now, too much wine dulls the senses I have learned, even if there is so much to go around, it gets old really quickly," they looked around at the dining assembly, all drunken and partying courtiers' eyes seemed latched on the royal family. The Targaryens were their own source of entertainment until the Mad King looked up, his booming voice was a herald of ash and bone, and she soon learned none searched for his critical persecution and demeaning tongue.

"Forgive me for being so forward Lady Arryn, but it is so easy to forget myself around you. I like you too much, and my son does too." Mina Tyrell rubbed her belly, "Forgive me, I am sounding more like my little sister, Janna, the more we are forced to be here I fear the looser my tongue gets. But, I have yet to ask, have you heard any news from your father? Will he be joining you, we have been here for some weeks, and he has not yet joined us?"

"My father is still ill, from what my cousins tell me. He has got better, but not enough to travel. Other than that, my family is doing well," Leila bowed her head, humbled by her care to even ask after him, "thank you for asking, many have forgotten to ask about him. It may come to no surprise that all people want to get out of me is a pretty song," that made Mina laugh, "and a story of how I am trying to steal away the Crown Prince." That was a bit of a serious conversation. "When to be completely honest, I can't wait till I am home, and I can have the pleasure of never singing another song about love and beauty."

"True, true." Mina Tyrell was all smiles, "and never have to see a Prince again, mind you. I think the rumors are leaning toward you and a certain Dornish Prince, and I wouldn't be surprised from his show," she raised her goblet to the man in question that was too occupied with a buxom girl down the table, "he does not get you out of his sight? How do you cope with all his teasing?"

"Tell me about it," Leila sighed dramatically. "I try to outrun him, but it appears that just makes him want to run quicker, even chasing me down. He is nothing but a thorn in my side," Mina enjoyed the pun, saying that her Aunt had used it once, "and how about you, are you ready for home Mina Tyrell? To see your sister and family again? Perhaps, your husband too," Leila got her to laugh again, she had done that more this evening than any other.

"Oh yes," she said once again, in good spirits, "I just hope I can get home to have my baby there," she patted her belly comically, very much aware of how big she was getting, and by the looks of it her time would be soon. "But it seems less likely with each day. Might as well send for my husband." She rolled her eyes as if she had this conversation before, "poor fool would kill me if I had it without him. As if carrying this baby wasn't hard enough, now I will be forced to hear him whine about not being here to meet the son I labored to give him. Men, Leila, don't ever marry if you can."

They both laughed at that.

"I don't think I have a choice," Leila put it smartly.

"It seems we all never had a choice," Mina put it simply, "such is the way of being a Lord's daughter."

"Yes, it would seem so."

"Hear ye! Hear ye!" Their attention was stolen, by a herald yelling his introduction. "Introducing the Lady Shayla from across the Narrow Sea, she will now sing for the Targaryen King and his progeny."

"A singer from across the Narrow Sea," Mina was intrigued.

"Provably from Lys by the look of her," Prince Oberyn was back, whispering in Leila's ear, always too close for comfort. "Well look at her. She could give you a run for your money Leila dear. You best be careful, or she'll steal your place."

She had enough of him. "What did I tell you? Don't get near me, and don't speak to me," she growled for the thousandth time, changing seats with Mina Tyrell, but the attention was still on the singer from Lys.

Her starlight locks were swept up in an intricate design, dressed in a flowing gown of violet, and Leila narrowed her eyes as the very woman stood in the center of the Hall and especially when she opened her mouth. No instruments accompanied her as she began the first notes, and Leila was rest assured.

"She's talented," she had to give her that, Mina watching on in buzzed appreciation nodded too, rubbing her pregnant belly.

"He's kicking," Mina mumbled, "feel." Leila dared to while the company was positively drooling over the singer as her voice washed over the halls, and most of the other men were in the same condition, even some of the married ones, and when she looked over at Prince Oberyn a wry smile was growing on his moustached lips. Thank the Seven. Perhaps she could get away from his watch dog presence for a night.

"He's strong." Leila said not really feeling Mina's baby, instead feeling brave enough to kiss Mina's temple, and discreetly stand, glad that for once some other singer had the attention of the crowd, "I find myself too tired to continue. I will leave you now Mina, see you tomorrow night dear friend."

They clutched their hands for a moment, "come tomorrow, come to meet my mother and I in the royal gardens around noon, she is interested in you, and would very much like to meet you," Leila agreed, looking out at the Lady Shayla for one last time, and imagining that she was the poor beautiful girl that ensnared the King.

The poor Essos girl probably did not know that she was a lamb in a den of predators. If she escaped the claws of the nobleman, then she would have to fight off the Lord's sons, or more horribly the Targaryen King himself, no matter what the rumors said of their King staying loyal and true to his sister Queen, his unwinking eyes on the captivating singer told another story.

She could watch no more of this beastly show.

Leila followed her made exit into a moonlight hallway.

Shayla's song muted by the waves and echoes of some faraway guest as she kept her pace away from it. Without Denys beside her, he had stubbornly refused to come for the festivities, she was alone with her thoughts, and yet she did not fear the hallways as she once did before. She knew the way back to her bedchamber better than ever before, and it surprised her how comfortable she had become under the dragon gargoyles that she had once been so bothered by.

"It's beautiful." She could give the Red Keep that, and with her stolen moments in the library. A sense of ease had come over her. Leila told herself, that at least she would leave here with more stories and knowledge of the outside world than she ever would have staying in the Eyrie.

As she was remembering a book about shadowcats and wargs, she found a gorgeous balcony, one that was usually filled with guests on most nights, but not this time, and with an air with no care she went onto that delightfully lonely balcony and enjoyed the view of the rolling and crashing sea, the sea wind was a welcome reprieve under her stifling gown, and oppressive cowl. The sounds of the sea seemed to calm her more than bring upon that dreadful homesickness.

"The darkness of the night suits you, my lady."

Leila jumped, and half-squeaked at the horribly familiar voice.

"Your Grace." She turned stiffly in her oppressive dress that stretched from throat cloth pinned from her head, covering most of her neck to tips of her simple slippers, the golden net kept her hair in place under the plain white-clothed cowl she had forever worn after her first embarrassment of a day.

"Lady Arryn, is it you?" Of course, he was unsure it was her, that was the purpose she wore this in the first place. It was not a wimple like the Septas were made to wear, but this hair piece allowed her to appear like the most pious Lady when she berated herself daily for an imagination that would send her to the depths of all the seven hells.

"Yes, it is, Your Grace." She smiled to cover her surprise at being cut so off guard.

It was obvious whom he was, the Crown Prince, and this time his dark tunic and slim cut trousers seemed to disappear in the shadows of the same hallway he had come from. It made him seem like some pale ghost in the moonlight, haunting purple eyes that searched under her cowl for her own. Oh, she hoped he spoke his peace, tell her to leave, or at least leave her be, because she did not feel like screaming and bringing attention to them. The rumors would never leave her alone then, her peace would surely be stolen, and Queen Rhaella would probably have her head on a spike quicker than she could send a Raven to her father.

"Lady Arryn." That was the only relief he gave to the silence, as if recognizing her would make the awkwardness leave the space between them.

She bit her lip as she fought her reaction to run, some far away rule that reminded her that she should never be alone with another male, she should have never left the Hall unattended in the first place, and now she was alone with a Prince, her superior in every way, and he could very easily taken advantage of the situation.

Take advantage... Now whom was the person drooling, be still my beating heart. The nervous side of her cursed the four goblets of water she had inhaled before coming. Leila should have taken some of Mina's wine, at least then she would have an excuse to say something foolish.

"Oh, forgive me Your Grace." She bowed quickly when she remembered her courtesies, sure she looked like some maid playing Lady, her self-esteem had fallen under the consistent speculation of more fit Ladies

"For what," he asked, stepping closer to her, he seemed to be examine her, and Leila couldn't help but notice that he was far too tall, too tall for kissing, and why the hell was she even thinking that. That made her blush, and she fought the urge again to run, "I interrupted you, did I not? You were trying to enjoy the sea?"

"The sea," she had forgot it was even there, hell King's Landing could have fallen to shambles, and she would not have noticed, "oh yes, it was no interruption," Leila knew how to be polite, not some mumbling buffoon, but it grew harder as the details of his more than handsome face became more clear.

He glanced out to the sea, as if he had never had the pleasure of seeing it before. The dark horizon visible from a distance, as the sky grew ever darker. He reached the stone railing, placing himself ever-closer to Leila that had once been peacefully leaning there too, and turned to his eyes back to her, "you sang beautifully."

"Me?" That struck her as odd, seeing as it had been weeks. "I am sure you are confusing me with the Lady Shayla. I could not even"- the look he was making, made her blush for other reasons. She was being ridiculous, "thank you my Prince." She laughed at the absurdity of it all, he was not talking about Shayla, and here she was feeding into the insecurities that must make her look like some simpering child.

"I have not seen you before this night. Did you usually dine in?"

"No, I've not missed a meal with Your Graces' family."

"I have not seen much dancing from you," he noticed too, "as I would have had the added pleasure of not only singing with you but dancing as well." He had a pleasure with many of the unwed and wed ladies. It was one of the simple pleasures many of the ladies giggled about when they should mind their own betrothed and husbands instead of the poor Elia Martell's well-loved Dragon Prince.

"You wouldn't have seen me," Leila shrugged lightly. "I am not very fond of these events, or dancing-" she would rather be part of the musicians, adding to the music with her voice itself rather than worrying about her feet and being twirled in someone's arms as her instructors in the Eyrie had once taught her.

"You mean that a young maiden like yourself is not tempted with slobbering drunken men? Who would have known?" Now he was surely teasing her, and if she was smarter she would have taken her leave of him, instead she received his jab playfully.

"Oh, I know. My standards have improved greatly since my stay in the capital."

"I sure hope so," he agreed quite decisively. An air of superior wisdom as if this was a lesson that all ladies and knights must come to know of King's Landing. "For all our sakes you must guard yourself most carefully. I would not look forward to answering a grievance against Lord Jon Arryn as to why his daughter did not return in the same state she came to us."

"My father?" She grinned at that, fixing her eye on the sky, "oh he wouldn't be one you need worry about."

"That's right." He seemed to already know the extent of the Lords that felt responsible for her. "I am sure even a certain Baratheon Lord would have my head as well, bet my cousin would even enjoy the chance at putting me in my place, perhaps even take an aim at becoming my father's heir."

Her grin faded into a grim line. She knew this was no playful conversation. Not even when Prince Rhaegar meant it so. "He would do no such thing." She would have Robert horse whipped all the way back to the Eyrie. "It is an honor to be invited to the capital, to so many fine dinners, and to sing for the court." Apparently, people crossed the Sea to sing to his Grace, and she had not the excuse of even that struggle. "I just… do not care much for what follows."

"Perhaps I can have a hand in changing that."

Leila's eyes snapped up to meet with his, and her shiver was nearly palpable when she saw the way he was looking at her. He could not mean it, she groaned in more ways than one. She would have demanded he leave at once, but he was not leering, and the intent was not strong, mere curiosity at best. Subtle, she marked him.

"You followed me after I left the Great Hall." She asked. "Did you mean to catch me alone?"

He didn't answer her, and she guessed he wouldn't when she put it that way.

"Well said Lady Leila Arryn." He gazed out to the roaring sea, when he did look back, he looked like the cat with his mouse. A very confused mouse, and he the very smug cat. "You have learned much from your stay here. But I think, someone thinks highly of themselves to think a Prince would follow after." His voice the perfect air of confidence and subtle mischief, so subtle she would have missed it, and she remembered something Mina had told her. Something she did not believe until this very moment.

"It's true then, what they say about you." She assumed by his body language, seeming to surprise him for a moment. "You are horrible at lying." The tick that Mina had whispered to her, the twitch of his brow stood out like a red flag.

"Oh yes," he confirmed with a smirk, probably trying to hide his discomfort at being found out. "What else have you heard, my lady?"

"Only some of the names the people refer to you as."

"Such as?"

He expected an answer? Leila felt her cheeks blush, many she had heard after the guests had one too many goblets of wine. A second or two passed before Leila started with the first, "The Silver Prince."

He touched the tips of long and gorgeous mane of silver hair, shrugging as if it was not worth mention, "well I can see why they say that."

That was not the worst of them. "The Last Dragon." She said romantically, trying to remember why some of the females blushed at the mention of what parts of him resembled that of the Last Dragon.

"Now that just makes me seem a bit egotistic? Who would ever want to speak to a haughty Prince that referred to himself as the," his voice changed, "The Last Dragon."

"Did you just copy me?" Leila raised an eyebrow. "You know I was just jesting. I don't believe half the whispers people say, all of it seems like a farce that I have no will nor patience to be a part of."

"I did, and I know." His eyes flashed, his demeanor changing a bit, less comfortable more…focused. "I am glad you do not waste your time with the games so many play. I am, however, fascinated with what you are now. And I think," he walked around her slowly, appraising her it would seem, "that the first moment you stepped into the capital, you knew exactly what you wanted."

"I didn't"-

"Don not lie to me," he said, a fraction of his tone darker, as he slid a hand around her waist, his eyes so fierce she was sure she would burn if his blistering hot hand didn't do it first. He didn't pull her in, merely keep his hand there at the small of her back, a promise or threat, perhaps both. "There are more skilled liars here, and I know them all. You cannot deceive me Lady Leila."

"I do not know what you mean, I was summoned for your wedding to Princess Elia, that is the only reason I am here." She shrank away from his touch, and she did it with a small smile, a terrified smile. "My Prince this is not right"-

"Rhaegar," he corrected gently, not bothered if this was right or wrong, more concerned with her it would seem. "I care not for formalities at the present moment."

"Formalities?" She blinked, still managing to smile, perhaps that is what kept her resolve to keep her ground. His body had turned towards her since he had dared to touch her waist, and there was precious little space between them now. If she took a deep breath, she was sure it would touch his. "I am sure you do not." She took a small breath, quietly added, "Rhaegar."

He smiled lightly when she dared to say it, dare she say a bit of fire.

She judged him. "You seem rather accustomed to getting what you want."

"Yes," he replied simply, his breath wafting over her face. It smelled of wine and something stronger, a spice of some kind, and perhaps it was just him. A single finger pulled on the throat cloth, exposing her neck, the chill air felt like heaven on her skin, and his hand wavered before going back to his side. He was quite bold.

He must have seen the glimmer of excitement in her eyes because his other hand rose, daring to touch her cheek, resting it there, his breath heavier as his face leaned down to hers.

The tips of his fingers titled her chin up, he began the game with a kiss.

He began it slowly, a kiss a mere touch of lips against her fuller, slightly parted ones, that deepened before she had a chance to react. He raised his other hand, and then both hands were holding her cheeks, he dipped her further back, and he tasted her mouth with his tongue. She had not been expecting it, nor the quiet little moan he coaxed out of her.

She felt her body become pliant under his more than capable hands, his experience overwhelmed her, especially when one of his arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her body to his. Leila might not have said it in words, but her body sure wanted this, every fantasy she had could not compare to this.

When he pulled away, only to get a breath, he seemed to savor the flush that spread over her cheeks, and Leila remembered herself as he went to kiss her once more. A feeling of dread freezing her once so hot senses.

"My Prince?" She spoke around the kiss, a breathless plea.

"Yes, Lady Leila?" His voice was so deep, it deliciously rumbled through his chest into hers, reminding her how far she had allowed him to go, too far.

Leila put a slim finger to stop his hungry lips. The humorous blank expression the Prince gave, made it easier to deny him, perhaps after all this, she could never again see him without remembering this denied look. "You know what I have learned at my short stay in the capital."

He humored her. "What is that Lady Leila?" He growled when his lips met her cheek instead of her lips. She continued to turn her face at the last second, and his whines gave her just the right amount of courage.

Leila smiled. "We do not always get what we want."

If she thought the look before was humorous, this look was by far her most favorite. Now she was sure that he was a man just like Ser Denys, a man that could be refused just like all the horny rest. "Till tomorrow my Prince." She detangled herself from his arms and gave him a rather self-satisfied bow before walking away.

Why the hell did she say that? What the hell was she walking so slow? Her heart sped a thousand times when she went around the corner, turning her walk into a run. Her mind raced at overtly leading him on and then having the gall to outright reject him. Her chest was a caged beast with each step she made to the safety of her room, and when she did reach it, she slammed into the wooden door, and locked it behind her as if he had run hot on her heels.

The silence behind her alarmed her more. He did not follow.

The guilt came then, and it was overwhelming. Images accosting her conscious, Princess Elia's tear-streaked face at their betrayal, Prince Oberyn drawing his sword on her for her shameless dalliance with a betrothed man, Elbert cursing her stupidity of letting him get so close in the first place, and even the disappointed blue eyes of her father that had expected so much better of her, had raised her to be so much better.

"What did I do?" She knew exactly what she had done.

Leila had teased The Last Dragon. The Prince had pursued her after she left the Great Hall, some could say she even encouraged his advances, and at the last unforgivable moment, when he had stolen a kiss from her, was when she had foolishly taunted his desire to his face.

"Seven hells." That was not even the half of it.

As she sat on her already made bed, too exhausted to stand, but too conflicted to shut her eyes for a moment, she knew deep down the reason why he had followed her. He had hinted at what every person was trying to get from her, "he was testing my character," that must be the only reason why he had tried to kiss her, "to see if I held virtuous and true. If I was worthy of my family name," and after that dreadful display he had found the truth of her, the truth that would ruin her, "and I failed."