dancing with our hands tied | r. targaryen

xiii.

SPRING'S END
111 A.C.
KING'S LANDING
•••

SPRING'S END DOES COME AND AS DOES THE WEDDING OF KING VISERYS AND HIS NEW QUEEN, ALICENT HIGHTOWER. Alayne hated to admit it, but her sister did make a beautiful bride. Though the wedding was meant to be a celebration, no one seemed happy.

King Viserys drank the entire evening while Alicent appeared to be on the verge of tears. Rhaenyra was miserable, watching as her former best friend and father made vows to one another. Alayne was unhappy because those around her were unhappy and because old Lady Mallister had eaten all of the lemon cakes, leaving her with nothing but cherry pastries.

And though Alayne's relationship with her sister had gone back to the way it was before Queen Aemma's death, Alayne still felt horrible watching her sister on what was normally the happiest day of a young maiden's life.

Alicent had always spoken of her wedding day, how she'd marry a handsome knight. She was sure King Viserys had been handsome in his youth, but now he was a man who'd seen many years. Maybe too many.

Alayne tore her eyes away from her sister and instead focused on something better. The lack of lemon cakes.

"This wedding is a disaster," Alayne mutters as she looks at the cherry pastries.

Rhaenyra looks over at Alayne, "Of all the things going wrong this day, you are mostly focused on the lack of lemon cakes?"

"Yes!" Alayne insists, "It was the only thing I was looking forward to."

"That is rather unfortunate," Rhaenyra speaks and Alayne glances over at her to see that Rhaenyra felt no sympathy for her plight and was smiling.

"You are cruel, Rhaenyra Targaryen," Alayne mutters.

"You could request that the kitchens make more cakes," Rhaenyra says, "You are sister to the queen now."

Alayne sighs, "Unfortunately. Besides it would be too much work to request more cakes, I do not want to bother the kitchen servants. They prepared this feast, I shall allow them to rest."

"Kind to the common folk," Rhaenyra observes as she looks around the reception, "Perhaps you should have been queen instead of Alicent."

"I would have been excellent at it," Alayne states as she looks at Rhaenyra's side profile, "Though I would not want to rule beside your father. He is not a ruler worthy of me."

"There is no ruler worthy of you," Rhaenyra responds. It was her default response always. That there was no one worthy of Alayne.

Alayne smiles to herself as she turns her attention to the crowd, "I think there has to be at least one."

At that moment Harwin Strong, the eldest son of Lyonel Strong the Master of Laws, approaches them. He bows before Rhaenyra, an action that causes Rhaenyra to straighten her posture slightly. Harwin Strong was a big man with a surprisingly gentle nature.

"My Princess," Harwin says before looking over at Alayne, "My Lady."

"Ser Harwin," Rhaenyra greets, "What brings you over?"

"I was wondering if you'd honor me with a dance?" Ser Harwin asks as he holds his hand out to Rhaenyra. Alayne's brows raise on her face, and she glances over at Rhaenyra who looks over at her, seemingly unsure of what to do.

"Oh um-"

"She'd love to," Alayne says as she shoves Rhaenyra in Harwin's direction.

"I would?" Rhaenyra asks as she looks at Alayne.