WINTER'S ROSE ;

Lyanna’s purpose for returning to King’s Landing had been to take over the recently vacated post of Bridgadier once Brandon had decided to retire, and while that had been her purpose it was not her priority.  That was reconnection, to her family, to her friends, to the Wolf Kings.  Her priority was Jon first and foremost, but also Arya and Rickson and Bran and Sansa.  Not seeing her nieces and nephews grow up, not being able to corrupt them in the way only a mischievous aunt could, was a great regret for her.  Despite Arya having been so young when she left, the two re-connected immediately, partially due to the fact that their lives within the syndicate demanded connection, but it hadn’t been as such with her eldest niece.  Only an associate, so Lyanna didn’t see nearly as much as she hoped, and the eldest daughter still felt like an unknown to her aunt.  So when Lyanna’s dark eyes spotted her from across the room, a bee-line was made in her direction.  “I didn’t know you were coming.” Lyanna commented, a warm smile tickling her lips.  “If I had known I would’ve asked if you wanted to arrive together, as it seems both of us are riding solo?”  Rhaegar had returned to their previous residence, tidying up the place before they finally put it up for sale.  But her voice tipped up at the end, knowing so little about her niece she wasn’t surer if the woman had truly come along or not.  Did she have a boyfriend?  Girlfriend?  Partner?  All she had knew was what Catelyn and Ned had told her, such as some of the troubles of her past, but nothing of her present.

People had always told Lyanna that she had an open face, a face that betrayed what she was thinking every step of the way.  Her feelings on a person were crystal clear before she could remember to train it, transform it into something less obvious.  It was both a blessing and a curse, and in this particular situation, as she tried to bluff, it was very much the latter (she realized it must’ve been a miracle that she’d been able to hide her and Rhaegar’s relationship for 10 years).  Leaning over to her cohort she whispered out the side of her mouth “Please tell me you know how to count cards, I’m dyin’ over here.”

This event was somewhat better than the last (massacre not being counted, of course), while people still seemed generally upset at her presence, it wasn’t as vitriolic as before, much more contained to whispers and glares rather than words thrown at her like knives.  But still, without Rhaegar by her side, Lyanna found herself look for a friendly face, or hell, even an apathetic face.  Her normal go-tos such as Catelyn or any of her nephews and nieces or Jon all seemed to be embroiled in conversations already.  So when Lyanna’s dark eyes landed on her other sister in-law, she figured it was worth a shot.  “I’d say this event is a marked improvement from the last.  No maiming or killing. So far at least.  Night’s not over until the fat lady sings and what not.” She started, smoothly sliding into place next to the sister in-law she knew so little about.

.

it had been a while since jon last let lyanna embrace them, often freezing up and going stiff at the arms around their shoulders. now in her arms it’s … still awkward as their mind and body were at war, instinct telling them this was their mother but conscious screaming for them to steel themselves. jon keeps their hands at their side but continues to let lyanna squeeze and feel that they’re there. after some time, jon brings up a hand to stroke their mother’s back. 

‘ i’m okay, mom, ’  they say, pulling the slightest away. they’re a little sore but they don’t tell her that. no need to worry her further.  ‘ i’m fine, ’  they press.  ‘ how about you ? you look a little shaken up. we should get you to sit down so i can check you out. ’  jon begins walking backward to take her to the medical tent. 

‘ i was in the kitchen when the lights went out, ’  they tell her,  ‘ i ended up finding margaery tyrell – who was hurt – and we fought one guy on the way out. other than that i’ve just been wondering what’s been going on. how did all of this happen ? ’  jon would usually refrain from asking about these kinds of things if they could help it, but they had bore witness to something and it didn’t sit right for them not to know. 

Respecting boundaries was something that Lyanna was working on, and while it had taken a moment or two to convince her mind that Jon was fine, or well, fine enough, she eventually ceased her incessant prodding of them and let them pull away.  It was truly the last thing she wanted to do, but understood that they might not be comfortable with it all.  

“No, no, I’m fine.” she said with a wave of her hand, despite the tremor still in her voice.  “Just a few broken nails from being trapped in that damned elevator.”  She sighed, letting herself be lead to the tent, but the next words leaving her mouth before she could stop them.  “That was the worst bit, just being trapped in there while you and your dad were just out there, and I didn’t know what was happening or couldn’t help.” Granted, she didn’t know exactly how much help she’d have been, it had been awhile since she had been in a fight.

But it seemed she was the only one, as her eyes widened and lips twitched downward as Jon described fighting off an attacker, and she suddenly felt the panic rise up in her again, but she made an effort to tamp it down, not wanting to seem hysterical.  

“I’m...I’m not sure.” She knew it wasn’t a helpful answer, but apparently she had been more out of the loop in her time away than she had thought, because there was no way she could have predicted this happening.  That fight or flight instinct screamed flight at her, and all she wanted was to grab Rhaegar and Jon and fly out of King’s Landing.  “---It was a big move, it’s someone signalling the start of something.  This isn’t going to be something forgotten or settled with a few more bodies.”  She paused, unsure if she should say the next part of her thought, but Jon was an adult now, too old for her to whisk them away whenever she sensed danger, they had to make their own choices now, had their own life.  “---This is someone trying to start a war.”

If there was one thing that could be said about her ( in reality she knew that there’d be many ) it was that she didn’t really care what people thought about her. So long as their opinions did no damage to her family she never much had cared for pleasing others or abiding by what was deemed socially acceptable. Her entire life had been filled with breaking laws, why would she begin to concern herself with breaking social norms? There would be some that might have thought that her going out so soon after her sister’s death was inappropriate, not that she would ever really listen to them. Instead she had taken the loss of Lysa as a reminder that life was short and she would be damned if she let other people’s opinions make it all pass her by.

Almost empty glass of wine in her hand, she’d been putting the world to rights before she quickly drained it and signalled for another one. The pause in her speech gave her a moment to truly appreciate the time that they were spending together and she leaned in towards her sister in law. “I missed this.” Even though the two had kept in touch having Lyanna back in King’s Landing was infinitely better than having to their catch ups over the phone. 

@wintersrcse​

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It wasn’t until she held her family in her arms again, until she and her brothers were teasing each other over food or she was meeting Catelyn for drinks, did she realize just how isolated she had been in her time away from King’s Landing.  Of course she had Rhaegar, she had co-workers, she had friends...But in comparison to being surrounded by family and those you love, it was nothing, it was a black and white picture of the sky compared to an oil painting of a sunset.  She hadn’t realized that a part of her had been empty, until it had been filled by the love of those she had missed upon her return.  She’d go through a hundred more scandals if that meant never having to feel that hollow feeling again.  

There were few people she had kept in contact when she left, but Catelyn had been one of them, and she loved the woman for it, even more than before.  Most of her friends had barely lasted a year after she had left, yet almost 20 years later, she would still make her weekly call to Catelyn.  It had become a bit of a ritual for her, a grounding experience.  But it was nothing compared to the actual ritual of ‘bitching and drinks’.  

It took her a moment to respond, catching her breath after a fairly raucous bout of laughter.  “Oh Gods, me too, Cat.---Please, if there is ever a next time I leave, I’m putting you in my suitcase and you’re coming with me.  Sorry, Ned.”

The statement caused Arianne to purse her lips in thought. She had never given much thought to the concept of revenge. She liked to think of herself as proactive enough to head off any danger before the need to seek it out ever arose. “Pointless, yet satisfying,” she flashed a grin that showed there was nothing serious in her words. She wondered, idly, if being seen with Lyanna Stark would be received poorly by the Vipers. Elia was well-loved. If they did, Arianne wasn’t certain she cared. There were certainly bigger things than decades-old drama to be worried about. 

She waved off the thanks with a dismissive hand. “It’s my pleasure.” Arianne knew her manners, if nothing else. She leaned across the bar, catching the attention of the bartender and ordering the wine. Once delivered and uncorked, she took the liberty of pouring it herself, filling both glasses liberally with an expert hand. She was a Martell, after all. She knew how to pour a drink. 

“This is the part where we trade gossip, I think,” she let out a chuckle, though her eyes glinted with mischief. “So tell me - what did you think of the dress?”

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"I’m sure people could say all things that are satisfying are pointless to some degree.”  She responded with a shrug.  “Good thing I don’t really care what people say.”a grin was shot over to her unlikely companion.  And while her statement was true to a degree, a woman grown now, she understood that it was not always a strength, and was a trait of her younger self, stubbornly holding on.

She was thankful when the woman didn’t give her one of those pretentious ‘sniff the bouquet before you sip’ pours, but rather a hearty one that would temper her nerves for a good while.  She couldn’t help but smile at her suggestion of gossip, and while Lyanna tried not to partake often, having been the subject of it too many times, she figured a little wouldn’t hurt anybody.  

“Well, honest opinion?” she asked, as if she’d ever give anything but. “It’s a little too little in all the places that count and a little too much in places you don’t want.  It’s both bland and has no personality yet makes you want to look away.---In a sense, it’s perfect for Lysa.”  Perhaps that sort of gossip would hurt.  “---Although, I should probably take that back, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen Lysa, she could have changed.”  The small bit of positive feelings Lyanna had possessed for Catelyn’s sister had quickly went out the door when her and Petyr Baelish, the man who had such a large (or rather, little?) hand in her personal life being shown to the world, had declared themselves as an item. “Dress is still ugly though.” She finished before taking a large sip of the drink she had been given.

A huff of something that might have been laughter from someone else escaped him. It wasn’t that it was particularly funny, more that he was glad not to be greeted by something overwhelmingly friendly. Dry senses of humour and sarcasm he could handle but anything more lighthearted would always lose his interest. “Guess you’re lucky I’m not one then.” A shrug of his own was given mostly in indifference. It wasn’t her fault really that he’d never been good at small talk but he also wasn’t trying particularly hard to alter that. 

If he’d had any hope that the conversation might have ended there, her next question shattered it. Jaw tightened slightly as he fought to hold back a sigh of frustration and silently cursed that a meeting had somehow turned into an event that required socialising. “Neither.” The reply felt too blunt and he almost felt bad for it and so something of an explanation was tacked on. “I was told to be here and so I am.” He’s far from enamoured with the whole event and he’s certain it shows in his tone and body language. Before he can help himself more blunt words are leaving his lips, frown weighing heavy on his brow as his glare is aimed around the room. “It was supposed to be a meeting not whatever this is.” 

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A loyal soldier boy, it seemed.  It helped her place him a bit more, perhaps not in a specific syndicate, but at least his general position.  Muscle, if she had to guess.  And she was guessing, but couldn’t be sure, that due to his general lack of enthusiasm he probably wasn’t a Valeman.  But it was clearly obvious she wasn’t going to get much else out of him, and seeing at this was supposed to be a friendly gathering and not a reconnaissance mission, she gave up her line of questioning.  While he wasn’t outwardly friendly, nor was he hostile, so she figured he was no threat to her.

But as he complained of wishing to have known exactly what he had been walking into tonight she couldn’t help but snort. “Tell me about it.” She replied with a roll of her eyes.  She had no idea if he knew who she was or not and exactly why she found his comment funny, but that didn’t change her reaction.  “I may as well have walked in wearing a white dress.  Would’ve been nice to know this is what Lysa had planned.”

@wintersrcse​

“  FUCK  !”  rhaenys  gripped  onto  the  railing  of  the  hospital  bed  ,  as  they  flushed  her  wound  out  .  it  took  everything  in  her  power  to  kick  the  nurse  flushing  the debris  out  of  her  leg  .  in  hindsight  ,  she  had  brought  this  onto  herself  .  sneaking  into  an  area  taped  off  by  the  police  ,  rhaenys  had  known  the  risk  she  was  taking  on  herself  ,  especially  with  stitches  that  were  not  yet  healed  .  but  the  moment  the  nurse  went  in  for  the  cleaning  again  ,  it  took  every  fiber  of  her  being  not  to  fight  the  person  helping  her  .  “  you  know  what  ,  we’re  going  to  take  a  breather  .  leave  and  don’t  come  back  unless you  have  sedatives  ,  a  brick  of  cocaine  for  me  to  forget  the  pain  ,  or  an  actual  brick  to  knock  me  out  .  ”  although  the  cocaine  was  mostly  a  joke  ,  but  at  this  point  she  would  take  anything  to  ease  the  pain  .

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Between visiting her nephew and accompanying and waiting for Ned while he spent his ‘special tiime’ with Robert, Lyanna found herself at the hospital more than she would have liked.  She felt like being there she was just asking for injury of herself or loved ones.  Don’t ask her why, but something about the smell, the cheap hotel-style paintings in the waiting rooms, and the lighting always gave her the creeps, it felt like a liminal space to her and she didn’t like it.  It was also boring.  No one had ever told her just how boring hospitals were.  Muted TVs playing the news, broken vending machines, people understandably too wrapped up in their own reasons for being there to hold a conversation.  So could Lyanna really be blamed that when she heard raving of someone saying they either wanted a brick of cocaine or a brick to the face, that she found herself curious?  It didn’t help the voice rang vaguely familiar to her, so she found herself peaking around a corner to see what the commotion was all about.  Should she call Rhaegar? --- No, snitches get stitches, at least until she found out exactly why she was here.  Granted, she had no idea if the woman would even talk to her, she had good reason not to, but she asked anyways.  “Everything alright in here?”

open starter: the diner

between visiting her daughter, running her business, and laying awake at night with an envelope beside her bed, elia had not been getting enough sleep. she pulled more and more late nights, often wandering the streets or ending up at the diner, trying to avoid being alone and helpless in her own house. it was one such night that she found herself sitting alone at the always-open diner, a milkshake in front of her (she had all but stopped drinking alcohol after her letter came; she needed to keep a clear head). her laptop was open beside her, and she was so intent on her calculations that she didn’t notice someone had taken a nearby seat. elia shut her laptop, a polite mask of a smile on her face. “my apologies. i didn’t see you there. what brings you here, tonight?”

All she wanted was a damn milkshake.  It had been a hard day both at the museum and within the syndicate, and all she wanted was to sip sugary, thick, flavored ice milk through a straw and into the hole in her face on the way home.  So naturally she stopped in at the Diner, putting in a to-go order and finding herself a seat at the counter that ran the length of the diner.  Her plan was to get her shake, finish the drive home, and relax for the night with her favorite person and a good documentary.  But it seemed as if the Gods had different plans for Lyanna.  She could have chosen any seat at the counter, and yet she chose that one.  And it wasn’t until words were spoken in what she assumed was her direction (fine, she had her nose in her phone, answering emails, she was being that person), did she pay attention to who she had sat down next to.  The tone was friendly enough that Lyanna was convinced the woman had no idea yet on who she was greeting.  For a moment, Lyanna wondered just how crazy or rude she’d seem if she just got up and left.  She wasn’t ready.  She knew that this day was going to have to come, but she just thought she had more time (as if twenty years wasn’t enough?).  But Lyanna realized her judgement day had come, and milkshake or no, she was going to get through it.  “--No, fault is mine, had my nose in my phone.”  She didn’t know what to say, to bring everything up in the middle of a diner seemed crass and unnecessary.  “Well, looks like the same thing that brought you here.” She responded with an uneasy smile, her hand gesturing to Elia’s own milkshake.

he’d been born and bred for public events –– everything from having at least three topics up his sleeve, tried and tested jokes he always told, and that one story about his mother’s prize cactus and the motor-oil. but if all else failed? he just took a turn about the dance floor and wowed them with his years of ballroom lessons, tripped just enough to seem modest, then tripped for real because he’d never had any natural rhythm, and then, finally, laughed his most charming laugh and moved on. but even with all that ; even after years in office ; even after walking in tonight with the lyanna stark, rhaegar targaryen wasn’t ready to find out how the other half lived. 

he’d heard the stories, he had. about the tullys starting everything by the river. about his grandmother basing bills on what the greyjoys allowed or didn’t allow. about robert baratheon making more money in a single transaction than the city’s yearly budget. but he wasn’t prepared for this. he’d always known this world existed –– of course he did, his first wife was part of it ; as was his second –– but he hadn’t really expected any of this. 

rhaegar smiled as lyanna came up behind him, a smile that was just for her. years and years and years ago, when he’d been stuck in an unhappy marriage and exhausted from pretending his way through a whole life in the public eye that he’d never even wanted, he’d dreamt of a little less and a little more. he’d dreamt of a house by the beach. he’d wanted to barbecue on the weekends and sleep in on monday mornings. he wanted to with his kids –– all of kids –– in the water and kiss lyanna in the sand. he wanted to laugh so hard he cried because he’d never done it, not really. and he wanted to be allowed to love again. and maybe he didn’t get all of that, but fuck, he got close. and that was more than enough. he paid a fair price for all of it ; rhaegar would do it all again in a heartbeat. only sooner. 

“ lost my tongue a while ago, ” he replied through a widening smile, taking the glass of scotch from her but catching her hand in his. “ is every family meeting like this? ” rhaegar glanced around, and sure, he’d asked her enough about the syndicates over the years, but. he was in wonderland’s third cousin, twice removed. “ and why don’t we have a vault in our house? ”

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Sometimes Lyanna forgot that he didn’t come from this world, they had just always seemed so evenly matched in almost all aspects, that she forgot this was the one where the puzzle pieces didn’t click.  Their families were both powerful, but in very different ways (although, not so different any more), and that point she forgot.  While he had grown up in what she assumed was a gilded life filled with charity events and country clubs and golf courses and glad handing, her life had been filled with all that and much more.  It was filled with back room deals and blood and bullets.  She had shaken on them, she had spilled it, she had fired them.  

It was due to this oversight that she felt like she hadn’t prepared him quite enough, and wondered if he felt like she had sent him into the lion’s den (literally) before skipping away.  Although, to be fair, she didn’t have much experience in family meetings herself.  Robert’s had come in the wake of their scandal and Hoster’s had been whilst they self-exiled themselves, neither one she had felt it proper to attend.  

“Tongue, huh?  Gonna have to find out who managed to do that and get their secrets.” She teased, whispering in his ear before she brought herself out of his rearview, to be standing in front of him.  It was hard, Lyanna hadn’t been a touchy-feely type before Rhaegar, but after? All she wanted to do was have a piece of her skin touching his, even if it was in the most chaste of ways. But she knew after their entrance, it probably wasn’t smart.  But Lyanna never claimed to be such, and found her self picking up his left hand and holding it in hers, finger tips whispering over where she’d know she’d find a tattoo if she looked.  Left ring finger.  “To be fair, there’s only been two before this, and I was not in attendance for either.” She sighed softly, she didn’t realize how out of the loop she was, and didn’t appreciate the feeling.  “--But also, generally they don’t masquerade themselves as a dinner only to be a surprise wedding.  Honestly, with the entrance we made I might as well have worn a white dress just to top it all off.”  She rolled her eyes, the relaxation she had begun to feel while in her life partner’s presence had dissipated and she could already feel her shoulders creeping towards her chin.   “We may be wealthy, but the Lannisters are the type of wealthy that they could bribe God.  We don’t have Bribe-God-And-Build-A-Vault money.  Unless you’re hiding something from me that is.”

few would call anya kind but most would call her just. she was cold and calculated and undeniably involved in a criminal empire and yet she still always seemed so infuriatingly decent. as the arryn’s right hand, she’d heard all the whispers about herself, and while generally she didn’t care one way or another, she still drew some amusement from how her legend compared to petyr and lysa’s. everyone had heard of lyanna stark, even outside of the families, but from what anya could tell few seemed to know anything about her. sure, there were a dozen different stories about the scandal and about her whereabouts but none about the woman herself, and though anya had made it a point not to take much interest in the personal lives of the other families’ members outside from what her position required, she couldn’t help but be curious.

who was this woman really? she wondered. what did it say about her that she’d come to an event hosted by a couple she couldn’t imagine lyanna stark was all too fond of? even though she chose to chalk it up to the alcohol she’d consumed - which, really, wasn’t nearly enough to have any real effect - this personal interest was unusual. still, she did her best to hide it, falling back on casual words and gestures that she’d honed in over two decades with the arryns. “don’t tell our hosts, i can’t imagine they’d take too kindly to being told their event wasn’t perfect.” there was a smile on her lips, easily ignoring just who the night’s hosts were to both of them. “anya waynwood,” she replied coolly. “it’s nice to formally meet you, even if it’s over a stolen drink.”

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"Ah yes, Lysa does have something of a perfectionist streak in her.”  Granted it had been twenty odd years since she had seen Lysa, but the two were connected, with Catelyn as their common link.  Lyanna had never been particularly fond of the younger Tully sister, but even with that in mind, she had really wished she had known the meeting was the woman’s wedding, if she had even decided to show her face, she most definitely wouldn’t have arrived hand in hand with Rhaegar.  But now the action seemed to be just another in a long line of tasteless actions that people could add to their list of why to dislike Lyanna.  “But you’re right, let’s keep that secret between us.  I don’t want to ruin her special day more than I already have.”  Her words were not said out of pity for herself nor her situation, but simply a way to take a defensive stance, beat people to the punch.  She knew they’d say it, so why not say it first?

“You as well.  I have to say I’m both impressed and vaguely intimidated by how little I know about you.”  No one would ever say that Lyanna Stark was one to beat around the bush, that was for sure. 

Quiet moments weren’t often something that she coveted and so when someone approached her about the seat that had been empty for a few moments, she turn with a bright smile on rosy lips. “Not at all.” The expression didn’t waver as she recognised the woman, if anything just grew more warm at the glimpses of sadness that tinged Lyanna’s expression. Even if she hadn’t felt a pang of sympathy she would have continued the conversation, if was only polite and she tended to enjoy interacting with others, but a ripple of determination was felt to try to give the brunette at least a few moments of enjoyment. It couldn’t be easy to still be judged and shunned for a slight committed years ago and she couldn’t help but find irony in the knowledge that adultery was considered such a sin by a room full of people with endless lists of crimes to their names - even her own. “I know the feeling, I almost always regret my choice - why do you think I’m made myself at home here?” Light laughter bubbled up, doe eyes bright with amusement before gaze fell to the shoes in question and a compliment slipped easily from her lips. “Yours are lovely though, I can see how they convinced you to wear them.”

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The warmth of the woman’s smile was almost startling to Lyanna.  It seemed out of place for the event, for their city even.  Perhaps it had been because the older woman had been keying herself up all evening, spinning herself in circles and knotting up her gut.  She had prepared herself for the glares, but not the smiles.  And even though the smile seemed genuine, Lyanna couldn’t help but try and look for pretense.  Perhaps she was being a suspicious, over correcting as she feared being away from their shadowy city for so long had made her weak.  “Then I think it’s safe to say great mind thinks alike.  Nothing better to cure sore feet than a cushiony bar stool and a strong drink.”  She wish she had a drink to clink, as she’d sure as shit cheers to that. 

The city Lyanna had left to return to King’s Landing had been somewhat of a warm bath; easy, with almost no one knowing of her name or her past sins, and coming back to King’s Landing had been much like a polar plunge, abruptly dropping her body in to sub-zero temperatures.  But the superficial conversation with Margaery felt like returning to that tepid bath, and she could slowly start to feel herself warming back up.  “---Got them for 30 bucks at DSW.” she leaned in and whispered conspiratorially.  While both she and Rhaegar had family money, while away Lyanna had tried to live by her own means, and having never been one to understand the expense of high end clothing, found herself loving the hunt for a bargain.  “Yours on the other hand?  Well those certainly aren’t 30 dollar shoes.”  Lyanna replied motioning to Margaery’s, meaning it as a compliment.  Her entire outfit screamed class and civility and grace.  Or perhaps it was the woman wearing it.