BONFIRE | GAME OF THRONES

TWO

The gold goblet collapsed from the boy's grasp, as he choked violently on the red liquid, his face turning pale, the blood seeping from his nose and eyes in a haunting manner as he retched to get his final words out. Paralyzed in fear, Ashara couldn't move to see the root of the boy's gristly end, feeling guilt ridden for reasons she couldn't remember why. The young boy lifted his left arm and pointed at her, then finally took his last breath and collapsed.

Ashara instantly felt a sudden sharp intense pain in her chest, and felt something damp dribbling down to her palm. The pain got worse, and her heart almost stopped at the terrifying sight. There sat a dagger right in her chest and she let out a blood curdling scream.

Her eyes opened instantly and she almost leapt out of her bed. It was just a silly dream, she thought, a silly dream that seemed too real. She looked around, and was relieved to see she was still in the safety of her bedchambers, thankfully with no dagger sticking out in her chest.

-

A full moon's cycle had passed before it was time for Margery and Joffrey's wedding. Ashara's 16th nameday had passed just day before and currently she could feel her handmaiden quickly brushing her hair with slightly shaking fingers due to how excited she was.

"How does it feel, my lady?" Her handmaiden enthusiastically asked, "The dress, does it fit?" Ashara looked into the mirror in front of her, the light airy dress was of a rich turquoise colour that symbolized her house colour of Tyrell, and the edges were embroidered black and silver that ran up and down from her the neck to the bottom of the dress which stopped just as it reached the floor.

"The dress feels fantastic," smiled Ashara, and for once it was a genuine smile, "Thank you for assisting me today, Mira. Your help was greatly appreciated."

Mira noticed Ashara's unusual low spirit and could only think one reason why "Did you have another bad dream, my lady?" Ashara lied and shook her head. Peculiar dreams were quite frequent to her, but none had been as bad as the one she had the past night. It was usually of a three eyed raven, or vague glimpses of a boy being carried through a heavy snowfall, and once in a sweet while, it was dreams of dragons.

There was a loud knock on her bedchamber's door, interrupting her thoughts , and her brother Loras walked in, "I was hoping I could escort you to the sept, Ashara?" She nodded in confirmation, and quickly said goodbyes to her handmaiden. "I hope to see you at the feast, Mira?"

"Of course, my lady" she curtsied and left.

Loras took her hand as they made the long walk to the sept of the Red Keep. "Have you spoken to father recently? He's making talks of marriage for you after Margaery," Ashara scoffed. Her father, though as loving as he was sometimes, her grandmother was right, he was a fool. She had already been betrothed once in the past, to Tommen Baratheon himself when she was eight years of age, but it was quickly back by the Lannisters thankfully. "He was writing to Harrold Hardyng only last night about a possible engagement."