She is Daemon's daughter but she wants nothing from him, rides a dragon and doesn't shy away from a fight. She also hides a dangerous secret and has her own reasons for coming to King's Landing.
Aemond wonders if he can tame her.
✧...
author's note: this chapter contains a sex scene. it's not detailed and purposefully very vague and as close to PG-13 as possible (IMO) but I'm giving you a warning just in case.
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She's hoped that by the age of ten-and-eight, she'd manage to deal with all there was to be bothered by — she mostly succeeded. The teasing has stopped and old disputes were forgotten, old wounds patched up, dreadful memories stowed away. The people around Lia no longer glanced at her askance or raised unnecessary questions, and some of them were affable enough to be called her friends. With the passage of months, seasons, years the village has become something she could call home, and it would seem that she should finally find some peace and let herself enjoy the insouciance of youth.
Only she didn't. Her experience of adulthood was followed by inner turmoil of a different kind — it was caused not by the lack of attention but by the abundance of it. It started small: the boys who once annoyed and harassed her were suddenly nicer, never rude but always keeping their gaze on the girl. More often than not she thought something was wrong with her clothes or her hair but soon she came to the conclusion that it wasn't the case. It must've been something else.
Lia wasn't naive to believe their kindness was without any hidden motive but she couldn't think of a single thing they'd want from her. She was used to being the girl with weirdly colored hair and hard gaze, sharp tongue and heavy fists, her skin not familiar with gentleness, with touches that didn't leave her aching. Never before had it occurred to her that she could be wanted.
Her mother sat her down to talk about maidenhood a few years prior to that, and the conversation left Lia feeling conflicted. It was annoying to realize that she possessed something a man could take, and there was no guarantee that said process would even be enjoyable for her. She also felt like it diminished her other achievements, and she was now only reduced to a body some men wanted to have to themselves, to claim her like a prize in a competition she never wanted to be a part of. It almost sounded like a threat — she was supposed to guard her virtue day and night, be wary that any man might have intentions to rob her of it.
But Lia hated being scared. And she wouldn't let anyone make that choice for her — so she made one herself.
The villagers had a tradition of throwing a feast in honor of every season's passing, and the end of summer called for the most lavish festivities. The air was sweetened with the last breaths of flowers, with scents of mead and freshly baked pies, filled with friendly chattering and laughter. Women braided their hair and wore their prettiest dresses, men made sure to take a bath and comb their beards (not that it helped a lot of them). For just one evening, all the grievances and squabbles were forgotten, and voices were raised only to give a toast or cheer at someone else's.
It took Lia a while to feel welcome at those celebrations, and half of her hesitation came from the rebellious unwillingness to accept the role she was supposed to play — put into a dress, she was expected to wear a smile, to allow only words of compliance out of her mouth. Deep down, she felt like the fitted clothes and inability to speak plainly left her exposed, unarmed. She still refused to dull down her temper to please some man, and made sure to only choose modestly long dresses, and politely declined every attempt to take her dancing. Inevitably it did scare away most of her potential suitors.
