The Gentle Wolf (Rhaegar Targaryen)

Chapter 9

7- Melantha

While on her first night she slept heavily and peacefully, Melantha found herself restless all the nights following the first one.

Each day that passed, more and more nobles rode through the gates, eager to witness the royal wedding and be a part of the grand festivities. On the second night she spent in King's Landing, the king had announced a tournament, which would begin the day after the wedding and would last a week.

Everyone seemed rather excited at the prospect of playing around with deadly weapons and possibly dying, and she was already dreading having to sit through days on end of the nasty sound of armor and steel crashing. She shuddered at the memory of her own training.

However, she supposed that a tournament couldn't be as bad as marriage. If she could manage to not run off and put on a good face for her upcoming nuptials, she could survive a few days of unnecessary violence.

Still, the approaching wedding would not give her rest. The bells of the Sept, which rang at dawn and dusk to indicate the prayers to the southern gods for a fruitful union did not help either.

She had calculated all the times those bells would sound before she was wed, and the internal countdown had her pulling at her hair.

There was also the matter of the weather. While King's Landing was not dreadfully hot yet she missed the true winter of the north. Melantha always slept better when there was a storm upon Winterfell, the violent, high pitched sounds of the wind lulling her into a world of endless possibilities. She missed the weight of the heavy furs upon her body, the soft fire cracking by the side, and Maekar fast asleep next to it. She also missed the darkness, how days were more gray and even on sunny days, the sun seemed eager to hide behind some clouds.

She also missed her brothers.

Melantha hoped Bran hadn't set anything on fire, or at least not the library.

She frowned, sitting upright on the bed.

"What is it?" Lyanna asked from her place by the window, feeding Maekar some sweets and scratching him behind his ears.

"I bought books from home."

Lyanna rolled her eyes.

"Don't you have plenty in the royal library? I heard it is massive."

Melantha stood and rushed to one of her chests, ignoring how abruptly the feeling was rushing back into her legs. She almost fell over but managed to catch herself.

She opened the chest and rummaged about for a few moments before pulling out a bag with an old book and scrolls.

In all her dread and anxiety, she had forgotten about the book Maester Luwin gave her before departing Winterfell, the one which she had been attempting to translate before her father gave her the news of her wedding.

She looked down at the tattered tome and the scrolls. She supposed that if she was to spend the rest of her life with the prince, she might try to find some common ground to make their union more amicable.

"Open the door." She requested of Lyanna, who was quick to obey.

Ser Arthur stood guard outside, and turned with a small, polite smile to address the sisters.

"You're good friends with the prince, are you not, Ser?"

"He does seem to follow me around all the time, My Lady."

"Splendid! Maybe you happen to know where he could be at the moment?"

"I believe so."

"Lead the way, then."