#scmad

The meal was delicious, and you smiled as you watched how enthusiastic Egg and Dunk were as they ate. Anora watched Egg with a small smile, and you knew that Anora loved children; it often upset you when you recalled that her chances of happiness were hindered because of you. It wasn't your intention, but you knew that, should you have let it happen, your elder sister would not be the way she is today.

" So you are the fourth prince's Son, Aegon, yes?" Anora said as she sipped her tea. Egg looked at her curiously but nodded. "Aye, I am. I'm Prince Maekar's fourth son." He said, chest puffed, but under Dunk's gaze, he smiled politely. "I thought so. Your eyes remind me of Prince Daeron's. How has he been?" Anora asked softly, her cheeks growing warm, and your grin widens as you watched Egg eye your sister curiously. "He's still a bumbling drunk who falls asleep in ditches. Nothing new." Egg stared at Anora with curiosity and wonder. "How do you know my brother? Did he offend you before? He has a tendency to do so." Egg answered her as he shoveled food into his mouth more. "I met him when he was still a young prince. When it was just Him and your brother, Prince Aerion. After all, your father approached mine, long ago, if I could become his lady wife." Anora said calmly, and Egg's mouth went slack as he stared incredulously at Anora. You grinned at how the boy stared and simply looked at him. "How's your brother, Prince Aerion? Does he still like to fish?" You asked, and Egg stares at you, eyes blank, and shakes his head. "Aerion is in Lys, exiled. It's better for us all." He said smugly. Dunk huffs and shakes his head, a look passes behind his eyes, and he whispers quietly, "Wonderful, I can't shake off bloody Targaryens." You all went silent before snickering at the exhausted hedge knight.

When you were all done breaking your fast, a knock on the heavy wooden doors of the chamber you were in resounded within the room. Dunk looked to you for permission to either open or decline the person. You contemplated the decision until the voice behind the door simply stated that they were a servant; that was the only time you agreed to let them in. In their arms were two beautifully vibrant gowns. One being a golden yellow and the other being a burnt orange color.

"What are those for?" you had asked the servant as they laid it out upon your bed. "These are from the Lord Paramount, m'lady. He said that you are a guest and should be dressed accordingly." The servant answered before drawing you a bath. "The yellow one would look beautiful on you," Anora said. You eyed the gown, its fabric, and the way it was cut, and you could tell that this was someone's well-loved clothing. "I don't think I'll be wearing either," you said, voice soft and eyes dazed. "You should. Consider it a small rebellion against our parents and against Septon Arys." Anora insisted. "Take back your life, sister. Be the same fiery girl I know you are."

When you left your chamber that day to read in the library with Anora, Dunk, and Egg, you were a vision in yellow, which even one of Lyonel's younger nephews turned to look at you twice. Dunk and Egg stood back a couple of paces, allowing you and Anora to speak to each other with a modicum of privacy. You and she were trying to see if there were any scrolls within the Baratheon keep that would help you break free from your novice oaths earlier than anticipated, but you found none, or rather, not much was kept, as Lyonel admits that Baratheons were not fond of reading as much, nor were they fond of keeping ledgers unless truly necessary.

"I have never seen a library so sparse on its own history..." You complained quietly as Anora returned another scroll. "Perhaps they have lost some." She said with false hope in her voice. You looked at her, gestured to the sparse shelf, then back at her. "Perhaps nobody has approached the lord paramount before of a noble lady who wishes to not be a Septa." You huffed as you returned the scrolls you'd taken. "Do you think, if I had just been obedient and kept my mouth shut...had I not questioned Septon Arys, perhaps we wouldn't be searching scrolls pointlessly." You had said as you looked pointedly at the shelf as if it offended you. "Had you obeyed and kept yourself silent, you would be ruined. Your life, your future-" You cut her off and looked at Anora. "He already ruined my life and my future, sister. What little fire I have left in me is slowly being smothered away to smithereens. I've been pretending to be brave, to be strong, and to retain what little sanity I have left. Don't you see? Septon Arys and father have already whittled so much of me away. I am no longer sure who will exist after should Lord Baratheon truly find a way to free me from my oath." You said pained, eyes weary, and face gaunt. "Have you told Lord Baratheon the extent of what Septon Arys did to you?" Anora asked. "No, I haven't yet. I told him vague bits and pieces from our childhood, though...but not the ones that were recent enough in my memory." You had answered her as you opted to sit down.

Anora knelt before you, her hands cradling your face as she rubbed soothing circles on your cheek. "It is normal, human, even to feel fear, shame, and doubt, but what has happened to you was no fault of your own. You did not want for it to happen, and surely any lord with eyes would see that you...you had survived that encounter barely through the skin of your teeth." Anora stood back up and kissed your forehead. "Be brave one more time, sister. Should you decide to tell Lord Baratheon what has happened, I will be there. Now I should find mother and father lest they throw a fit over my disappearance for nearly half the day."

When Anora left you to your own devices, you remained in the comforting silence of the library before finding Ser Duncan and Egg, and returning to your bedchambers. Ser Duncan ensured that he didn't stand too close unless you gestured for him to. He and Egg observed you with curiosity and understanding, the two filling the silence in your stead, telling you all about their journeys.

Lyonel had been with his kin for the better part of the day. His cousins, Orys, Borros, and Stravos, along with his elder nephews, Roland, Gregor, Daniel, Bran, and Sorren, were discussing what Stannis had written in his letter. Orys, who was carrying his newborn daughter, simply clenched his jaw as he closed his eyes. As a father to three young girls, what Stannis had uncovered within your family's territory was nothing short of horrendous.

"Uncle, we understand that your reasoning for searching this particular territory within your purview is due to your growing attachment to a certain noble lady, but...these crimes. This would require the knowledge of the Targaryens. It is a crime against the crown itself." Gregor said, eyeing the letter. "Her father is conspiring with Blackfyre supporters, selling girls into slavery with the help of the Septons within their lands. Uncle, these are crimes that can strip a lord of its title. Should the king learn that we hadn't chosen to dismantle a house that supports the Blackfyre's, we might come to blows with House Targaryen." Roland added.

"We can't simply let the Septons within her father's territory leave. They are complicit in the crimes. Bastards sired by septons and sold to brothels and slavers to cover up their crimes. It is vile." Stravos said, face grim. "How can a man of the faith turn back on their vows so easily?" Borros asked no one in particular. "Because power and influence allows them to maintain their status." Lyonel said as he twirled his dagger in his hand.

Lyonel knew the crimes being done were enough to strip a man of their land and title but, he cannot act so easily, as within its maws lay two women - no, three young women who would suffer should this all come out. He could care less, truly about the youngest, Eleanor. Perhaps poverty would teach her humility, but Anora, was kind and nurturing as and would have been a wonderful mother, and you, oh beautiful and wonderful, you. You had suffered enough pain, enough hardship and he doesn't wish to cause you more of it, but as a lord paramount, this couldn't and shouldn't be ignored.

"I shall write the letter myself, but, we need more time. Stannis is looking for more evidence. I need more time." Lyonel said as his shoulders caved inwards as he leaned upon the sturdy desk. "You need time for that girl you've become so fond of." Orys said knowingly. "Do you fear she is one of-" he cuts himself off and shook his head. "If we offer her and her sisters to become our wards, to seek asylum in our keep, we can keep them safe" Sorren said kindly, eyes warm and wise for his age. "We need her to speak up should we want this to succeed. We help her gain her freedom from her oaths if we can prove that the High septon is one of the accused and has broken his oath of celibacy and faithfulness to the seven." Stravos said. Lyonel looked at his kin and let out a breath. "I have uncovered things happening beneath my nose all because I have grown fond of a woman I cannot marry as of yet...father was right, love drives a man mad." Lyonel said grinning as he sat down. "Aye, wait til you have children, once you hold them, you would swear bloodshed should they even cry." Borros said and that made them all laugh. They all eyed the letter once more and silence filled the room once more, but now, they await for more news, this wasn't something you can send easily to the crown without further knowledge.

Nightfall came and so did the feasts. Lyonel alongside his kin sat at the high table at the great hall. He could feel the dagger like stares coming from your lord father and lady mother and the young brat that was your sister. Yet his gaze remained on the door, wide open as it may, he wishes to see you reclaim the light. He was cutting up his venison when Sorren chokes upon his mead that Lyonel looked up from his meal. There by the door you stood, entering the great hall with Ser Duncan and Egg by your side, dressed in his sister's golden gown. Lyonel smiled, not grinned. Smiled, warm, inviting and utterly smitten. You looked divine wearing his house's colors. Lyonel stood up and weaved his way between the crowds of lords and their daughters to reach you. He nearly fell onto his knees when he saw you up close.

"My lady, you look as if the maiden herself has come to life." Lyonel said in awe, his smile growing wider as he notices the way your cheeks flush. Color suited you more than the drab greys and beiges you were made to wear. "Thank you, M'lord. Though I must say, you didn't need to have sent me such beautiful things." You had said politely as you felt the gazes of many lords and envious ladies. "Nonsense! A dress like this is merely useless fabric unless worn, and my lady, you have worn it well. Come, eat til you are full and save me a dance, tis my only request." He had said as he guided you to the seat beside him at the Hightable. Lyonel knows what this looks like to many of the attendants but to him, this was simply his very own way of ensuring that you are far from you own kin's reach. To question him is to disrespect the host, thus he knew your mother and father could do nothing but bite their tongues.

He watches eagerly as you eat your fill, enjoying the way you even hand Egg some of your food when he tugs at your skirts. He knows that although he admits to himself that his reasonings on wanting to help find a way for you to abandon your oaths as a novice were selfish in the beginning. He knows deep down, now that he knows even just pieces of what you had been through, of what childhood was taken from you that he wishes first and foremost for you to find joy. To smile and mean it, to wake up each day and live it as if it were your last. He wishes for you to find yourself and what makes you happy, and should you open your heart for him romantically, he shall sweep you off your feet, but as of right now, he wishes to honor his oath as a knight and save you from your predicament, and help you find your wings.

"Dance with me, m'lady or has the faith deprived you of your lessons in dancing?" Lyonel asked when the minstrel played their tunes. "I can dance, though admittedly I am not as good as I was back then." You had said as you took his hand. They were warm, calloused in a way a warrior or a sailor's hand should be, strong and sturdy. he leads you to the middle of the great hall and leads you through a waltz, before the music changed and he danced around you, much like a peacock would. The other lords and ladies danced as well, fueled by good mead and a hearty meal. You closed your eyes, felt the rhythm vibrating through the floor and danced. Lyonel simply danced alongside you, happy to see a flicker of the girl the woman before him had to set aside.

One night of happiness for you. One night where you could both ignore the foreboding shadow of your kin and the knowledge Lyonel holds. Just one night for him to hold you close before you must make a choice.

"Stay with me." Lyonel whispered as he pulled you close as you both danced. "Be my ward." He said voice low and his gaze warm.

"Yes." You had said as you knew it was time to take your freedom. A wild lord has opened your cage door, but you have chosen to take the first step to escape it.

A/N: Sorry for taking a while everyone. I honestly gotten to a depressive state. I'm currently struggling at work, my romantic relationship is...in a weird place, and I have just decided to go back to Uni with my parents' blessing and have been uni hunting. But I found my groove and found the inspiration to write again.

I'm wondering if you all have a way you wish to call our reader here. If you have any recommendations, please let me know. also the So Call Me A Devotee Arc 1 Playlist is out. I hope you guys get to enjoy it while you read.

Again, if you wish to be added to the taglist, just let me know. I might work on drabbles and headcanons for a bit before I write Chapters 7 and 8. Thank you for reading this fic, it really makes me happy to see you enjoy it!