Daeron the Defiant: A Second Dance of Dragons

Daeron:

Casterly Rock was as impressive as he remembered.

The last time I traveled here, my betrothed had eyes only for my brother.

That betrothed was now currently leading him to his chambers. Viserys was at his side, taking in all the glittering gold that the Lannisters had to offer. It was an impressive sight down these corridors to awe and humble those who were guests of Casterly Rock. A show of fortune and force of what the mighty Lannister lions could do.

He could feel her eyes were on him, but a selfish part of him refused to acknowledge it or her. Having only just arrived to the Rock with the Lannister Party, Lord Tywin had not so subtly positioned his daughter as Daeron's host. He would not forget Robert's grin and wink before she ushered him and Viserys down the corridors.

The armored footfalls of the kingsguard knights that his father had sent him. To his surprise, he decided to send three, Sers Barristan, Arthur, and Gwayne. His father had been clear of his intentions when he gave the orders to Lord Commander Hightower.

We must show strength. This may be a Lannister wedding, but the dragon lingers in no lions' shadow.

It was not lost on Daeron that Father had elected to chose some of the most prestigious knights that the Kingsguard had ever known.

The sound of his brother's babbling brought him back to see Viserys and his betrothed were talking about the Lannister castle.

He glanced over at Cersei Lannister to see she was beautiful in red silk with golden thread. It clung to her body to accentuate her and to tease what lay beneath the cloth. Her dress was low cut that allowed a glimpse of pale breasts. Her green eyes sparkled and her smile made her already pretty face, breathtaking.

In sight of such beauty, he felt very little lust stir within him. It was more a twitch, like a wiggling worm, and not the burning flames when he had been with Mina.

She wants your brother, the voice inside him said. H er choice was not you. Never you, it would mock him, feasting on his fears like a glutton at a banquet. It is Rhaegar that is who she wants. That's who they all want.

Daeron stewed silently on the barbed truth of these words that stubbornly coiled itself around him. He tried to push them from his mind. He found his distraction by watching how she was with Viserys.

She can be kind and gentle, he observed, but was it genuine or false, he did not know.

Viserys was enamored by all of it, specks of gold would leave his mouth agape. His eyes glimmering as they took in all this opulence. He could not fault his brother. All he knew was the Red Keep. And the Keep was many things but it was not as inspiring or as glamorous as other castles throughout Westeros.

It's all new to him.

"The wonders of the Rock remain impressive," Daeron knew he could not stay quiet during the entire escort. He looked over to see his betrothed wearing a proud smile. He saw the golden lion necklace adoring her neck, resting just above the chest to draw in the eye.

"My Prince's words are humbling."

He did not miss the seductive inflections in her voice. Her jade eyes looking at him with a smile.

She's beautiful, but what is behind that veneer? He wondered, will I be disappointed or pleased?

"So you're going to be my sister one day?" Viserys' voice caused her to turn away from him.

To her credit, her smile remained, and Viserys' cheeks turn slightly red at being at the center of it. "I am," Her tone happy and excited. "I've always wanted another brother."

Viserys only turned redder at that. "Truly?"

"Truly," she tapped his nose and he giggled. She then stood back up, but not before looking at Daeron from her position which was deftly done to give him a generous view down her dress.

His eyes never left hers after the initial flicker.

The stare between them ended when they arrived at Viserys' chambers. "My prince, here you are," she offered him her hand which he eagerly took as servants curtsied to them while the doors were open and waiting.

"Ser Arthur," Daeron turned to his brother's best friend. "You shall make sure my brother settles in. You will then escort him to the feast tonight."

The Sword in the Morning's eyes turned to Barristan first, before he nodded, "Very well, My Prince."

Cersei who had been quietly watching, smiled when his eyes turned to her. "Shall we?"

"Lets," He offered her his arm out of obligation, but she took it eagerly.

They walked silently and he was thankful.

It was not compliments or idle chatter that surfaced up in her presence, but accusations and questions, but he was not foolish enough to give voice to them.

Then it came to him, a memory of a similar encounter between them. Him escorting her to her chambers at the Tower of the Hand. He had stopped his father from doing something foolish and perverse to the Hand's daughter. He would not forget her fear, but there had been a strength that shone in her eyes, brighter than any emerald. A challenging hue as if to dare him to say she was afraid.

A fire that burned hotter than dragonflame, he remembered thinking. Now she walks with him, almost a different woman before him. This one who was ditsy and provocative. Before there was a fierceness he couldn't help but admire.

He found himself disappointed in the change.

"You are quiet, my prince," Her words were softly spoken, and a touch of sadness lilted her words. If it was sincere or not, he was not sure.

"I am tired," He patted her hand. "I apologize for being such poor company." He smiled, hoping it appeared reassuring and not strained.

She returned it. Relief seemed to flicker in her eyes. Then she nodded in understanding, "Yes, it can be a long journey."

"Indeed," Daeron did not want to appear rude. She is to be my wife, the voice was dull, but truthful. "I was lost in a memory."

"Oh?" Her curiosity sounded genuine.

"Yes," He silently measured whether he should repeat it, considering the ordeal it must have been for her. It was the after though, after his father had been led away. That was what he wanted to share. When he had offered her the chance to hold Dark Sister. He would not forget when she touched it, when she used it.

There was a woman to admire, he remembered thinking. It was that hope he'd see it again did he decide to speak of it.

"It was when I escorted you back to the Tower." He saw the way her mouth turned, her hand on his arm, instinctively tightened, and something sparked behind her eyes.

"My father's shame," Daeron quickly said, realizing it was probably a mistake to speak on that part. Fool!

He put a hand on hers to try to calm her. "He may be King, but he had no right."

She regarded him, her mouth turning downwards into something that looked like a snarl. The spark that he had seen beneath her eyes only seemed to darken as she studied him. "The Prince is kind."

He knew at once the chance was gone. He had botched it. I cannot even get this right.

It was her delivery that stood out to him. Seven Hells, is that what I've sounded like?

For the first time, he felt disappointment at his behavior. Even rising above the constant bitterness he held towards her due to how she treated him in the past.

No, not treat, the voice inside him said. Imploring him to remember the old grievances. It was a relentless beast. Treat would require her giving you attention. She practically ignored you while drooling for Rhaegar. You were a speck that she was indifferent to. She'd flick you before she'd look at you.

The reminder of that feast playing in his head. Her glazed look. Her simpering words for his brother. How she ignored all of them, just so that she could stare silently at Rhaegar.

He nearly wanted to sneer at her at how she was to him. No apology, no acknowledgment, as if she had done nothing wrong.

Your brother doesn't want you. Your betrothed doesn't want you.

He felt his chest tighten at the truth.

"Here are your chambers."

"Thank you," He cleared his throat, pushing aside his thoughts and memories that clung to him like rot.

She smiled, poised in her curtsy. "It was a pleasure, my prince." She sounded as if she had enjoyed herself. Daeron wasn't foolish or arrogant enough to believe so.

"My lady," he dipped his head to her.

She lingered for a heartbeat. Lips pursed, but whatever the cause for it was, she did not say and excused herself.

"I don't want to play with him."

"Viserys," Daeron warned his brother.

They were in his chambers. It was their second day at the Rock. The guests for the Wedding would not begin to trickle in for another few days. Lord Tywin had wanted to arrive early to help oversee the final stages of it, personally.

That had left Daeron and his brother to be invited to spend the afternoon with Cersei and Tyrion. The invitation may have come from his betrothed, but he had no doubt that the idea was from either her mother or her father or perhaps both given the way his Mother would talk about them. Just like their extended stay, this invitation, he saw right through it. He wanted to spar with Jaime or Robert, but the latter had gone to explore Lannisport, and Jaime had flashed an apologetic smile before saying, he had to meet with Father about boring things about marriage and duty, he went on, Lannister, Rock, and he had waved his hand, mockingly.

So that had left Daeron as well as a suspiciously free Cersei. Their brothers the perfect pretense to spend more time together.

Viserys did not heed his warning. "He's ugly!"

"Enough!" Daeron's voice was loud and firm. He crossed the room to reach his brother in four steps. Viserys looked to be nearly trembling at his anger, but that did not calm him.

"You will not speak that way." He gently put his hands on his arms so as their eyes could meet.

He had already had this conversation with him and was disappointed that he had have it again so soon.

"Papa said it!" Viserys' lip trembled, but his eyes were defiant. "And Papa is king!"

"He's wrong," Daeron's words shocked Viserys, who doubted they ever heard anyone say Father was wrong.

"But we're dragons!" He squirmed in his grip. His eyes were starting to dim while his lips began to quiver.

"I said ENOUGH!" He nearly regretted his tone when Viserys winced from it, but he remained steadfast. His brother had to know how to act and that there were consequences for such poor behavior.

I will not let my brother turn into him.

"You are a Prince of House Targaryen," He told his brother. "And you bring our house no glory in insulting our hosts. You bring our family no greatness by mocking a boy. There is no pride to be had in your words or actions. These are the words of a snake not a dragon."

Viserys' eyes welled with tears. "I'm sorry," he said quickly. His face spasming at what he had caused. "I won't do it again," he hiccupped. "I'll be polite and kind," The tears streamed down his cheeks. "I won't disappoint you or our family. I promise."

Daeron released his grip on his brother, allowing him to scrub at his cheeks with the back of his hand. "Tyrion is a good and smart boy," he went on. "He deserves our respect and you will give it to him."

"I will," he was bobbing his head up and down. "I will."

Daeron regarded him, satisfied. "Good," he then put a hand on his shoulder. "I am sorry," He squeezed his brother's shoulder. "I did what a dragon should not do. I lost my temper."

Viserys frowned, confused.

"A dragon who loses his temper, brother, is one who will be consumed by it." He pulled him close, and was thankful his brother did not fight the embrace. "Dragons are powerful, but we must also be careful." He could feel Viserys nodding into his chest.

"I can be powerful."

Daeron smiled. "You can be ferocious." He pulled away to see his brother returning his smile, bright eyes at the compliment, "But you must also learn temperament."

Viserys' response never came as there was a knock on the door. Ser Barristan was inside the chambers with him, and opened it to converse with who was out there.

"It is Lady Lannister, my prince."

Daeron looked to Viserys first to see if he knew what was expected of him. His brother felt his eyes on him, and tried to stand straight, scrunching his face to try to look like a proper prince, but in that moment, he looked like a puffer fish. Daeron smiled down at him, "Send her in."

His betrothed looked no less lovelier today. Her golden hair hung in long curls, framing her face. She wore a hairnet studded with emeralds that seemed to wink at him in the light. The cut was only a smidge more conservative, but the dress was sleeveless.

"My lady," He moved to greet her, kissing her extended hand, before meeting those green eyes.

"My prince," she demurred. "You must call me Cersei," She giggled. "We are to be married."

"Cersei," he corrected himself, noticing her smile grew at the agreement. "You may call me, Daeron." There was a small petty part of him that wanted to refuse her that.

"Daeron," her eyes flashed.

Now you care for my name, he wanted to say. You didn't cheer my name when I fought Rhaegar.

In his thoughts, she moved passed him to greet his brother, who was delighted at the attention. He watched the exchange and could see sincerity in her words and expressions when speaking to him.

It was a kindness that she seemed to hide, he observed. Behind her beauty and her pride.

Her smiles were lovelier when they were doting on Viserys.

Daeron pushed those thoughts away and looked to see Tyrion did not seem to be present. "Where is your brother?"

"We are to fetch him," She answered, while remaining crouched down with his brother. "He is attending his lessons with Maester Desmond."

Ah, it came to him now, another arrangement, another attempt for the two of them.

The lions were tiring in their pursuits.

"Won't he be in trouble for leaving his lessons?" Viserys sounded worried.

Cersei calmed him with a caress of his cheek. "It will be our secret." She winked at him.

Viserys smiled, before nodding enthusiastically.

She then turned to him, a golden eyebrow arched in question.

To Daeron's own surprise, he found a small smile forming on his lips. "I promise."

Satisfied, Cersei stood up. Daeron was about to offer her his arm, but it was his brother who grabbed her hand.

Surprise flickered on her face, but her smile remained as she looked down at the youngest prince.

"May I escort you, my lady?" He was still too short to offer his arm since that would require Cersei to crouch the whole way. So he clasped her hand the best he could into his smaller one.

"I would be delighted," She answered in a tone that made Viserys giggle.

A bemused Daeron watched them leave the chambers. He then turned to Ser Barristan who had watched the exchange in quiet amusement.

"My betrothal may be in trouble."

Barristan chuckled, "It appears so, my prince."

Eddard:

Casterly Rock was an impressive castle unto itself. It stood taller than the Wall, looking like a lion in repose, or so the locals said. Ned didn't see it. Stepping inside to see how it was cleverly crafted and carved and dug transforming from mines into a holdfast. It reminded him of his own ancestors who built Winterfell around the natural hot springs so as to keep the castle warm in even the harshest of northern winters.

It was all gold.

He had known the wealth of the Lannisters, but to see it so prominently on such mundane things was baffling. Candlesticks, chandeliers, frames, carvings, the list went on the more he looked the more gold there seemed to be.

What good was gold in the face of winter?

Gold cannot push away the cold.

You cannot eat it when you're stuck inside your home because of the blizzards.

The wrath of winter had humbled the north. To teach them what was needed to endure, and gold candlesticks were not one of them.

The chambers given to him were exquisite and larger than the ones he had at Winterfell or the Eyrie. Pretty blankets, ornate chairs, and more gold. He looked around his room in dismay. All he could do was shake his head at this show of wealth.

He looked down at his silver and grey finery.

Ned then examined his reflection in the looking glass, trying not to frown. Father had made sure none of his children who attended would reflect poorly on House Stark. New clothes were made, with more costlier materials having come from White Harbor and before there, across the Narrow Sea.

A knock came to his door.

"Come in." He thought it was Lyanna to complain about the dress Father was making her wear.

"My wolf arrives at last."

Ned turned at the sound of her voice. There standing in the doorway looking radiant was the woman who he had been dreaming of since his departure from Dorne last year. His dreams paled at seeing her in the flesh. Her dark thick hair fell in lazy curls, her violet eyes were piercing, but breathtaking.

"Ashara," his voice felt dry. He had planned on seeking her out after he was presentable but it seemed she had plans of her own.

She slipped into his chambers, closing the door behind her. "I've missed you." Every step was enthralling to him. The material of her dress swishing like purple waves. Her eyes never leaving his or that smile on her lips.

That smile, he admired. It could melt the Wall.

He cut the distance between them and was rewarded when her arms wrapped around him.

"Oh Ned," She murmured his name in that thick accent that stirred something deep and primal within him.

He held her close. He was afraid that this was one of his dreams and she would disappear like smoke, leaving him grasping at air. When he pulled back, seeing the pout of her lips and the sheen in her eyes, he kissed her.

She responded with a hum, welcoming his lips to hers.

It had not been their first kiss, despite Ned's attempts at honor. She would only laugh and say, the honorable thing to do would be to not make this maiden sad.

"I missed you." Her sigh of pleasure only emboldening him. The warmth in his chest spreading.

"I missed you too," she nipped at his ear.

A growl followed that made her laugh, "My wolf," she said softly, holding him close.

The importance of duty and honor began to drum louder and louder in his ears. The haze was beginning to lessen. He reluctantly pulled her away. Taking a deep breath to calm his heartbeat and to try to rein himself in while he still could.

She was not surprised, but neither was she happy. "My honorable wolf," She groaned.

"We are not betrothed, Ashara." They had gone over this more times than he could count.

She fell onto his bed, but even the act was graceful. "We should not be punished for my brother's stupidity."

He moved to sit beside her. His lips twitching with a smile. "You deserve to be treated with respect and honor, my lady." He reached for one of her hands. "I will not shame you."

She looked at him. "How is a northerner more chivalrous then all the knights in the south?" She put her hand to his cheek. Her smile was soft, but the disappointment had ebbed from her gaze.

He kissed her hand. "I will write to him again." He promised.

"And when he says no?" There was a tremor to her tone that made his stomach clench.

He sighed. He ran a hand through her hair that fanned around her like a dark halo. "I suppose if he says no," He saw a flicker of fear in her eyes. "Then I'll have to steal you," He then grabbed her suddenly causing her to yelp before she burst into giggling at his tickling.

"Ned!" She exclaimed. In between her laughter, she tried to push his hands away half-heartedly.

He did not stop until she was red in the face and nearly out of breath. Satisfied, he moved to lie down beside her. He could hear her breath was haggard as she tried to regain her composure.

"That was not honorable."

Ned laughed. "My apologies, my lady." Feeling her body move closer to him. He welcomed her by wrapping his arm around her while she nestled her head onto his chest. "We should not stay like this." He warned. "You probably alerted the guards."

"Good," She sounded smug. "You were trying to steal me."

He smiled. "It's a wildling tradition."

"What is?"

"Stealing your wife," He remembered the stories Old Nan would tell about it when he was younger.

"Truly?"

"Yes, it is expected for men to steal their wives from another home or clan."

"That doesn't sound very fair."

"Well, the women are supposed to put up a fight every step of the way," He replied. "That's how he proves he's worthy of being her husband."

"Still," Her voice was a mixture of confusion and amusement. "You northerners are a strange people."

"There is one more thing."

"Oh?" She asked, "Do I even want to know this tradition?"

He chuckled at her tone. "Yes, I think you would. It is said that a true man should steal his wife very far from his home," He could feel her shifting. His words were not lost on her. "It's how you strengthen your family."

He looked to see her mesmerizing violet eyes were looking up at him from where her head was lying on his chest. He cupped her cheek, "So a Dornish maiden would make the Starks of Winterfell stronger than we've ever been."

He had been surprised to be woken by a servant the next morning. Informing him that his presence was requested for breaking fast. Ned had sent him on his way, grumpy and groggy. He got dressed the best he could while trying to shake off the shackles of slumber. When he finished, a guard was waiting outside his chambers to lead him.

They had not gotten very far when Lyanna appeared. Her annoyance etched in her features. Ned suspected the reason for it was the dress that she was currently wearing. He remembered how she had railed to Father back at Winterfell before their departure about the number of dresses she had to bring and was expected to wear.

Father did not balk. You are a Stark, Lyanna. He said firmly. You will dress accordingly, and if I hear differently then when you return to Winterfell, certain privileges will be reexamined.

They walked in silence, lead by the Lannister guard, who served as their guide. Ned wanted to put his sister at ease, but he knew any comments bestowed upon her from him would be met with a frown and a glare. She would see insults even behind the kindest compliments. She'd bristle before she'd blush.

A few more steps and the doors awaited them. Servants in Lannister livery were quick to bow and open the doors to let them enter.

"Into the lion's den," He heard her murmur, and he squeezed her hand before they stepped inside.

The room was like every other at Casterly Rock that he's seen. Large with ornate furniture, gold coloring, and Lannister lions. The windows were golden framed, red curtains pulled back to allow the sun to shine through, lighting the room. Some of them were open to allow the cool breeze from the sea to dispel any heat that tallied too long.

Waiting for them was Princess Elia Martell, the future Lady of Casterly Rock, but today she was still a Martell. She was dressed in her family's colors. It was a splash of orange and red silks and laces.

She had moved to greet them. "Ned, it is good to see you."

"You as well, Princess," He kissed her cheek when they embraced. "We are honored to be here and we are happy for you."

"As are we," She smiled, before her gaze turned to Lyanna, who stood awkwardly between them, worrying on her lip. "And this must be your sister, Lady Lyanna."

"She is. Lyanna, this is Princess Elia Martell." He then watched his sister execute a stiff curtsey.

"Well met, Princess Elia."

Elia welcomed her warmly and embraced like they were sisters. "Ned has talked about you."

Lyanna seemed caught off-guard by the princess, but some of her confidence was beginning to show. She turned back to Ned with a small smirk that reminded Ned of past mischief. "Has he?"

"Yes, he has," Elia took Lyanna's hands in hers and guided his sister over to the table where a spread of food and drink awaited them to break their fast. "I must say if even half of what he says is true, then you must come to Dorne." She let her sit down first before Elia joined beside her. "We do not shy away from certain prejudices the northern kingdoms embrace."

Lyanna's brow furrowed. "The northern kingdoms ?"

"Yes," Elia said simply. "You're all northern to us," She explained with a smile.

Lyanna returned the smile, but suspicion lingered in her grey eyes.

If Elia noticed it, she did not say. Pushing on in the conversation with her disarming kindness. She was asking his sister about her dress. Lyanna's answers were more bold than Ned would have liked, but Elia took no insult from them, only responding with a laugh or a joke of her own, encouraging her to continue.

He was only half listening as he put some of the eggs and bacon, bread too onto his plate. He poured himself some of the wine that was at the table already.

"Princess," A guard's head poked through the opening, "They're here."

"Thank you," Elia then turned to them, "We will not be breaking fast alone."

"Ned!" The Lord of Storm's End made his presence heard before he was seen.

He had barely gotten out of his seat before Robert greeted him by nearly picking Ned off the floor. He patted him forcibly on the back, before he was kind enough to put Ned back down.

"Sorry," He looked sheepish after seeing Ned's face.

Ned just laughed, before turning to see Jaime and Prince Daeron with their own smiles, as they were the next to greet him. Clasping arms, and exchanging greetings, he then looked over to see his sister and the princess had stopped talking and were watching them.

"Lyanna," Ned looked at her expectantly.

She smiled, but he knew it was forced. She was resigned, but she got to her feet.

"Lyanna, these are my friends, Prince Daeron and Jaime Lannister."

"Well met," Daeron inclined his head to her.

Jaime echoed the sentiment.

Lyanna murmured her own words before retreating back to her seat, relieved.

Prince Daeron took his seat across from Ned, while Jaime took the empty seat beside his betrothed, who he greeted with a smile and a kiss.

"I was afraid I'd have to rouse you from your sleep," She teased.

"I can go back to bed." He winked, "And you can try."

Laughter rippled across the table.

Elia rolled her eyes, but was smiling. "Soon," she promised, her eyes sparkling.

Jaime's mirth was replaced with yearning at his betrothed's temptation. A certain glaze could be seen in his eyes.

Elia giggled before she turned to Lyanna who looked equally amused. "And they say women are the weak ones."

Lyanna's smile turned to laughter at the Princess's jest.

Pleased that his sister was finding her footing within the circle of Ned's closest friends. He returned to his meal, savoring the crunch of the bacon, before moving forward to his eggs.

"We are to go riding this afternoon," Robert said, spreading honey onto his bread. "My cousin will do anything to be free from his betrothed." He laughed when said cousin, Prince Daeron frowned at him from where he sat.

Ned had heard of his friend's betrothal. It had been news that seemed to be encouraged to spread throughout the Lannister household and castle. The lions wanted all their guests to know of their good fortune in the matches of their heir, and their eldest daughter.

To Ned, all that mattered to him was his hope that with Prince Daeron betrothed, it would mean that his offer for Ashara's hand would be accepted. She remained doubtful, suspicious of what new schemes her older brother may be hatching, with her being the key…

"Riding?" Lyanna perked from where she was sitting with Princess Elia.

Ned could see the excitement in his sister's eyes at the chance to ride and explore.

"Aye," Robert smiled down at her, but his eyes did not linger. He turned back to Prince Daeron and Ned. "You are welcome to come if you like." He shrugged. "I warn ya it will be a long ride. There's much to see in these parts according to our host."

"I can handle it," She frowned at the challenge.

Robert chuckled at her boldness.

" Ned? " Lyanna's voice emphasizing his name in the same pleading manner she did when they were younger and she desperately wanted something.

Brandon had not come on this trip, so the duty and responsibility of the Stark household fell on Ned. He knew what his Father would say, and he knew what Brandon would do, but this was his decision. He smiled down at his sister, "Very well," He acquiesced. Her delight was evident and her gratitude was quick. "I shall go as well." He said over her thank yous.

"You were invited," Prince Daeron pointed out in a dry tone.

Ned didn't get a chance to reply to his friend before the doors opened once more and more guests came into the room.

Prince Oberyn walked in and accompanying him was Ashara.

"Look who I found on my way here, sister."

"A dear friend," Elia showed her brother and her friend a warm smile. "And this is my newest friend, Lyanna Stark, Ned's younger sister."

Oberyn got to her first. Smiling as he took her hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. "My lady you cannot be from the north."

"I am," Lyanna said proudly.

"If I had known of such beauties hidden away under the snow, I assure you I would've visited," He winked.

Lyanna withdrew her hand. Her face a mixture of confusion and surprise at the Prince's bold words.

"Oberyn," Ned brought his friend's attention away from his sister.

"Ned!" Oberyn did not take Ned's response as a chiding, but a greeting. He moved over and clapped him on the back. "It is wonderful to see you again."

He then moved to the other side of the table to take the empty spot besides Prince Daeron. It was evident that Oberyn had already already seen them. His thoughts were confirmed by overhearing them making references to their trip to Lannisport the day before.

All thoughts on his friends soon left him when a familiar perfume wafted over him. He was aware of what was expected of him in this setting. Even amongst close friends, he needed to tread carefully. He could not dare risk insulting House Dayne especially when he was hopeful for an approved betrothal between them. As well as the fact that Ashara's brother was standing in the room, serving as Prince Daeron's knight.

So it pained him not to be able to greet her with a kiss or to embrace her. Instead, he had to settle for dipping his head in her direction, "My lady."

Ashara was not offended by the rigid etiquette they needed to observe. She wore a similar veneer, but her violet eyes were glittering, and a smile slipped through her mask in seeing him.

"Hello, Lord Eddard," she took the seat beside him. "It is good to see you again."

"Lady Ashara," He said formally, "You as well." He ignored the chuckling from across the table which was no doubt coming from Robert. Ned instead turned to Oberyn, whose dark eyes did not hide his amusement at the unfolding of Ned and Ashara's formal interactions.

"How was Oldtown, Prince Oberyn?"

"The Citadel was nice. I forged a few links," he shrugged. "However, after the wedding, I am off to Essos." He then turned to Prince Daeron. "You are welcome to come. It could be just like we talked about all those years ago. Join the Second Sons or start our own mercenary company, fight in the Disputed Lands, think of the adventures!"

"Oberyn," Elia chided her brother. "You know he cannot travel and stay over in Essos. The prince is betrothed."

Daeron's face remained impassive at Oberyn's invitation and then Elia's scolding. His eyes more focused on the food before him than his friends, but Ned was certain he saw something in the prince's expression before the mask was in place.

Oberyn waved his sister's excuses away. "He'll return, won't you Daeron?"

"It is a tempting offer, Oberyn," Daeron declined, "But the Lannisters have given me a more tempting one, a wife and a castle."

Elia looked down at the table at Prince Daeron. "I assure you, both of those are better for you, my prince then my brother's company."

Daeron chuckled, and he was not the only one. It went up and down the table at the princess' words. It was the prince's voice that had gotten the mirth to subside. "This is just the latest showing of your good judgement, Princess," He then looked to Jaime, "But then again no one's judgment is perfect."

Laughter and fellowship, Ned savored this moment, among his friends and family. And then beneath the table, he felt a hand intertwined with his, and love, he smiled.