The Chirp of Birds and the Bite of Beasts

Dyana's house arrest occurred when she finished washing, the same day she killed all the men in Fishmonger Square. The king's own hand, Eddard Stark, announced that his niece had committed slander and the king's justice should be given to the magistrate to act and not a lady, that's what she heard them say. He did not believe that his uncle Ned would behead her or Joffrey himself would allow punishment, as he would gain a lot from the deaths of those men, Petyr Baelish's power collapsed at the docks and it would take new men and a lot of gold invested in them to buy his loyalty. At this time, Sanya ordered the men of the Wolf Horde who she was sure would obey her, to contact good friends from White Harbor to take the places of those pawns and even Ned Stark is no fool to stop Wyman Manderly from fixing the problem that his beloved niece had committed.

The movement is over and it is up to Lord Wyman to take control of this pier, just as he did so many years ago. His first movement was to pull Ser Alvyn between his legs, immersed in the waters of that spacious bathtub, delighting in the nectar of his intimacy.

"How do you do this thing with your tongue?"

She asked. Alvyn spat some water onto the bathing room floor and smiled with his pearly teeth. Dyana noticed how Alvyn seemed stronger, more handsome and smarter every day. He was no longer the passionate young hunter, he strangely became a man that women yearn for. A Dragonslayer knight and a prince project who saves maidens.

"You're not my only lover"

Her voice was also thicker, like the sound of a war horn.

"Who's the whore?"

Dyana questioned with an icy voice and raised eyebrows, her hands tightened on the knight's silky hair.

"A whore from the brothels of Wintertown, Ros, a young woman with strawberry blonde hair, the biggest tits I could suck."

He licked his lips and approached Dyana's breast.

"They fell into my mouth like hotcakes from Riverrun's kitchen and that pussy was trained by me. After our nights, she earned more coins than she could ever have in her life, she learned from me"

She said as she licked and nibbled the pink areolas.

"Just like you, Lady Stark, see how that prince gets more and more entangled in your web the more you miss me"

"Not at all chivalrous, Whitestar"

Dyana smiled, brought him in for a long kiss. She understood that this was not her Alvyn, that boy who lived in the armory and sewed her clothes from animal skins and cooked delicious soups. This was her sworn sword and probably something more, residing in her heart.

They continued to love each other for a while. Dyana tasted his body, he tasted her flesh and the union steamed in that closed room, where torches illuminated the mist of hot water vapor, the moans and screams of pleasure made the atmosphere almost Lyseni, in the den of a passionate wolf.

It was the eleventh hour of the day when Dyana came out of the bathroom, Sanya was outside, standing next to the door with her face flushed.

"Any good news, Anya?"

Diana asked.

"Prince Joffrey has arrived in the capital, his entourage from Duskendale entered through the Iron Gate two minutes ago. The prince is expected to arrive in twenty minutes"

Dyana smiled at her news.

She was wearing a gray silk robe, with black cotton sleeve edges. Her damp black hair fell down her chest with the silk clinging to her skin and shaping the twin mounds. The violets in her eyes shone when she heard the news of the prince's arrival and then a suspiciously bright lip smile grew on her face.

"Dress me in that new Pentos velvet dress, the prince gave me as a gift and it will be with him that we will triumph"

She ordered and Sanya nodded.

Alvyn was next to the two women, sitting on the large bed, watching as the handmaid took the dress from the wardrobe and fitted it to Dyana's body like a page wearing his knight's armor before a tournament battle. He also dressed, but only in linen trousers, then leather boots, the silver-buckled belt with the coat of arms roughly carved on a plate of polished steel, then a gray tunic, the coat of mail and the doublet of fermented leather and his sword sheathed at his waist, with a dagger strapped to his thigh. Dyana got dressed in less than thirty minutes, with violet velvet covering her entire body up to her neck and her hair was braided, a braid commonly used in the West. Alvyn felt his heart beat faster when he saw how his beloved looked almost like an Eastern goddess, with the radiance of her pearly skin and the Dayne heritage like her blade tearing the reasoning of any sane man's mind.

"How am I, Ser Alvyn?"

She asked, her voice also changed, it was more dignified and haughty like a queen before her subjects. Dyana could be a lady, taught by a septa and very well behaved to please and be pleased, but her youth with Jon and Robb transformed her into a northern woman, with wolf blood running through her veins and igniting her desires. She cursed like a drunk when she felt offended, she pointed out flaws as she embellished compliments and her appetites were voracious and Alvyn felt when together they became one, with her warm lips and deep mouth as well as her wide hips and strong waist, rising and falling with more strength than Alvyn could handle, if it weren't for the Heartapple that Jon and Tyron made him drink at the Wintertown tournament, he wouldn't be able to handle his lady's gluttony.

"A true queen of the seven kingdoms, Lady Stark"

Alvyn replied and Dyana smiled at her words and even her cheeks reddened slightly.

The door to Dyana's room was knocked twice by a gauntlet, then opened to reveal Ser Barristan Selmy.

"My lady, her presence is required in the throne room"

His words trailed off a little at the end when he saw Dyana in her beautiful violet dress and her western braids tied like a lioness's ears.

"Barry, is it true that my prince has returned?"

Dyana questions with the same haughtiness as a queen. Ser Barristan blinked awkwardly at the way Dyana called him, so intimately that his controlled breathing seemed to sigh with each word she spoke.

"Yes, Lady Stark, the prince has arrived and Lord Eddard Stark has gathered the court in the throne room for the start of the lady's trial for the executions in Fishmonger Square."

As Barristan announced, he took two steps away from the door as Dyana, Ser Alvyn, and Sanya walked out to meet the king's hand.

"While we go to meet the king, could you answer some questions for me, Ser?"

"I can answer whatever is within my capabilities, my lady"

"What was my mother like?"

Barristan smiled, he had been waiting for this question.

"My relatives in Starfall tell me that the Ser knew Lady Ashara, they say he was a confidant of hers"

Dyana saddened the tone of her voice, like a light harp melody.

"I wasn't a confidant, I could be a friend, even an acquaintance but I think Lady Ashara was a woman that many men fought for attention, for her look... For desire..."

Her words burned, like dry straw in the hottest summer. The old man's wrinkles tightened and the melancholy in the tones of his words gave the signal Dyana needed.

"...But you can ask me about what your mother was like, what she did as she walked these walls, and even who her faithful friends were among the ladies-in-waiting while serving Princess Elia Martell. But if you wish, you can even question about Ser Arthur Dayne"

"If you don't mind"

She said, with a smile hidden between her pink lips. Ser Alvyn analyzed the lord commander of the royal guard and as he stood alongside Dyana, he did not fail to guard himself against a possible attack from him or Sanya.

"What was she like? Lord Deric Dayne told me on one of his rare visits to Sunhall, the ancestral seat of the Wyce. That my mother was one of the few ladies in Dorne who saw great opportunities and good horizons in the lands beyond the Marches, even in the Reach and Stormland's where there have been a hundred wars and thousands of clashes"

Barristan's face contorted with disgust, contempt, regret, pain, confusion, and a burning fury that only a warrior surviving defeat would feel.

Only Ser Alvyn noticed, and then he remembered Robert's rebellion, and one of the songs that many experienced men-at-arms called to battle sing loud and clear in the north, that was about the greatest stain on the white mantle of Barristan the Bold: When on the Trident, Lord Garvy Icescourge wielding his Valyrian steel halberd, Victory of the Sun, battled side by side with Ser Jorah Demonbear Mormont who cut men in half with ferocity using his Longclaw, and how they opened their way on the battlefield to get in front of Ser Barristan and Prince Rhaegar.

The song said that Ser Jorah wanted to have the pleasure of tasting dragon's blood but Garvy, in honor of his mentor and friend, Lord Rickard Stark, gave the Demonbear the pleasure of a battle against the legendary slayer of black dragons, the executioner of Maelys the Monstrous and the sharpest blade in the kingdom. In the end, Lord Garvy pierced his halberd through Rhaegar's chest and Barristan and Jorah fought to the point of exhaustion, in a two-hour exchange of blows that exhausted the old knight and the young lord of Bear Island.

"Your mother was beautiful, the most beautiful I was able to witness in my days as a royal guard at the Targaryen court, innocent as a girl, like few others but wise as a woman in those terrible days"

Barristan said with a nostalgic smile,

"Yet my beloved father knew how to surround her, lick her heels, howl a romantic song in her ears and then have her body and innocence taken in one of the many rooms in Harrenhal."

Dyana tempered her voice with contempt, almost a blasphemy against the memory of her mother and father. Barristan just lowered his eyes, feeling regretful and saw memories of a time he would rather forget flash through his mind again.

"I'm sorry, Ser Barristan, I know my parents were just young people in love. But looking back, I can see that my mother made a mistake by sleeping with Brandon Stark and giving birth to me and my brother."

Dyana now wrapped herself in sadness, wrapping a silk thread around her hands and pulling it until she felt the stitching break.

"I sometimes hear, as I walk the halls of this keep, that I am a bastard surnamed Sand and that King Robert was unsuccessful in making me Brandon's daughter by the law of succession."

Barristan clenched his fists and the gauntlet creaked against the mail covering his hand. He had heard the whispers of servants and laundresses, the laughter of the ladies who came to the capital to accompany their knights and represent their houses, saying about the Rose of Winterfell, that she was just an ugly but common stain for those men of the savage north.

"However, tell me about her days in these halls."

"Lady Ashara was a lady-in-waiting, she spent her days sewing with Princess Elia Martell and sometimes rode through the courtyard, took the bows and made the arrows destroy the straw dolls but her days as an educated lady were also filled with beautiful embroidery , complicated braids in her hair, singing to the birds, trying on expensive dresses presented by her admirers and she also had the habit of falconing with Sharp Star, her harpy that she raised herself in the Dayne manor and there were no rodents that escaped her sharp claws"

Barristan said with a heated smile. Dyana smiled at his words and the knight seemed to freeze that summer, his eyes remembered a moment, the moment when he bitterly regretted one day not having taken the right step and the wolf having caught his most precious creature with its teeth. beautiful star.

"My mother was a truly active woman, Ser, I never imagined I would be so like her"

"Do you also practice with the bow, lady?"

"Since I was a little girl, I've also had my own eagle, it lives in the Tower of Feathers, in Gilnora, Tentown. It hatched other chicks and Lord Tyron Wyce told me that they would be better cared for in rich Tentown than in cold Winterfell"

Dyana said, her eyes then dimmed and the brightness died when she remembered the animal.

"It's called Windwing, it's a beautiful and indispensable killer bird. Ser Alvyn almost gave up killing rabbits for me when Windwing grew up to hunt them in Wolfswood."

Barristan looked at Alvyn who met the old knight's eyes, he seemed to take note of every part of himself and study every movement, every muscle and step of himself. Whitestar felt watched by a dangerous beast and that if he confronted it, he might not make it out in one piece or survive. Alvyn praised Lord Jorah for managing to fight a young Ser Barristan the Bold

"I have heard of your knight's deeds, my lady, Ser Aron told me that the new crop of knights to walk these realms are sharp as Arnehild's steel and as strong as mine."

Barristan said, with a warm smile.

"Ser Alvyn is certainly one of the deadliest men in the seven kingdoms, Lord Commander, I think Ser Arys Oakheart has whispered a thing or two to you."

Dyana said proudly of her knight.

"Ser Arys is proud as a royal guard, but his bruises did not deceive me and I noticed that the person who caused the welts has strength and skill. When I went to update myself on the events in the armory courtyard, his name was already respected even among those men of Lannister weapons"

The knight nodded and Ser Alvyn Wynfall smiled and thanked him.

"Lord Commander, his words are like a whetstone, be careful or in the tournament I will not spare from using the sword I sharpen against yours"

Alvyn said. Barristan laughed with old, pale teeth but the lines around his eyes said he himself was looking forward to the eventual fight.

"I wish it reaches the final, boy, I heard what Smalljon Umber did to Meryn Trant, if it weren't for Ser Balon Swann to occupy the deceased's position, I would make him wear this white cloak with my blade"

Barristan replied.

"Whether you like it or not, you would be part of the royal guard"

Sharpness shone in the eyes of the old lord commander, who smiled at Alvyn who returned the same look to Barristan.

"Please Barry, try not to die to Alvyn, I have a lot to talk about my mother with you."

Lady Dyana said with a half smile, surprising Barristan and eliciting a laugh from Alvyn, who silenced her when they reached the gates of the throne room.

"Lady Dyana Stark of Winterfell and her sworn sword, Ser Alvyn Whitestar Wynfall and the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Ser Barristan the Bold Selmy"

Said the herald. Dyana and the two knights entered and her footsteps resounded amid the whispers of the nobles who would serve as spectators for the trial. "She's very beautiful for a northern woman," said a girl with a rural accent. "She has Dornish blood running through her veins, her mother was Dayne, sister of the sword of the morning and her father was one of the victims of the mad king" said another, this one had the tough tongue of the Stormman's.

Dyana gave her full attention to the Iron Throne, one of the wonders of the world, surely if Lomas Longstrider lived during the years of the dragon's conquest he could write a fine note for the terrifying swords that carved every piece of that twisted colossus. She thought of the kings who led these swords against the dragons, all of them: Argilac Durrandon, Mern Gardener, Loren Lannister, Sharra Arryn, Harren Hoare and Torrhen Stark but she knew that even the king who knelt did not spend swords against the three dragons of the trio of conquerors.

It was Sunhall who lost most of his men-at-arms that day, when Lord Othor the Cautious Wyce, received visits from Lord Aerion and Lady Valaena Velaryon on a dragon so immensely large that it made Othor, at the time a man who spared no effort and spent to avoid future problems or mistakes, purchased almost a hundred Ghiscaris scorpions from the free cities and Braavos, then equipped each of Tentown's ten walls with weapons, from the gates of Golden Woman to Arrogant Woman. They all had giant dragon-killing crossbows. Lord Othor did not see his weapons used, but when the Lannister kings became vassals and the entire countryside knelt to the dragons, it was an armada of twelve thousand men-at-arms descending on Moat Cailin, all Tentowners, to meet the new army of the conqueror with the young lord Wythor Icedread Wyce with the giant crossbows properly positioned on each of the twenty towers of the Moat and on the walls the archers had the best aim against men who understood why that fortress had never before been taken by armies from the south. The dragon himself decided that he would conquer the fortress that had never been taken before and even the scorpions did not reject his desire, there were more than twenty of them and they were all aimed at the three dragons. However, their queens thought differently and began a temporary truce in search of an agreement. The conqueror met with the lord of Sunhall and Frostport, but ice and fire are mortal enemies:

"The North does not kneel to the seven faces of foreign gods, does not kneel to dragons" said Lord Wythor. "Then the north will burn," replied the conqueror.

The reports noted in Sunhall's library say that Queen Rhaenys tried to dialogue herself on Aegon's behalf, finding a favorable agreement for both kingdoms, but Icedread didn't agree to anything and all it took was Visenya, the sharpest of the trio, to try something with Wythor and she did it: a battle. Sword versus Halberd. Darksister against Victory of the Sun, the winner would retreat the armies. Poets and bards say that the dragon queen there felt her heart being taken by the bravery of the lord of Sunhall and her defeat was due to the brief passion found in the strength of Wythor's blows.

However, the defeat of Visenya did not mark the withdrawal of the troops, after the retreat of the messengers of peace from the north, the overlords began the fierce battle. There were twenty thousand, nine thousand more than before the Field Fire, in the Targaryen army against the defenses of the Moat but only five thousand terrified men returned to the Riverlands and Balerion, the largest of the dragons, had his enormous body bathed in blood and wounds , it was no different with Meraxes and Vhagar who looked better than Blackdread but also had wounds on their bodies, the sister queens had terrified faces when they landed in Riverrun and King Aegon I had a huge wound on his shoulder, caused by one of the scorpion projectiles that almost took his arm off. Moat Cailin after the battle that became known as King's Strangle, lost all its towers and of the twelve thousand only a thousand or less returned to Winterfell and Lord Wythor no longer had his left arm. When King Aegon decided that the complete conquest of the continent would be paused for a recovery of the kingdoms, King Torrhen Stark went down the Neck to kneel before the dragon king and in Riverrun create the pact of ice and fire, which would unite the house of dragon with the kings of winter.

The swords of the defeated at Moat Cailin were sent to the dragon king as a gift from Wythor, when Arnehild's smiths arrived in the new capital, brand new swords and bow points arrived in a galley from White Harbor.

The Rose of Winterfell arrived in front of the throne staircase, analyzing the swords twisted and hammered to create irregular steps and with a pointed surface, the sides were like hairs of twisted black steel with rusty and peeling tips and sitting on it was her uncle , Lord Eddard Stark, wearing a white doublet with the gray Direwolf on his chest, Dyana didn't see Ice and smiled.

"Uncle Ned"

Dyana said, with a short bow and a beautiful smile.

"Niece"

She responded to the king's hand with a cold tone of voice.

"My prince is in the capital, from what I heard on the way here"

She said.

"Prince Joffrey will arrive in a few minutes, his testimony will decide the fate of his crimes at the River Gate"

That was not Ned Stark, Dyana's uncle but Lord Eddard Stark, the king's hand.

"I would like to know your opinion, lord hand"

Dyana said with an icy Stark smile. The uncle allowed her to speak and then asked:

"Did you like how I killed them with my hands, just like the lord did with criminals captured in those Holdfast's spread across our kingdom?"

Ned widened his eyes but restored their coldness and sighed at her words.

"The lord's are given the power to judge and execute, Lady Dyana, women are given the privilege to obey and enjoy peace, no more. The prince was wrong to give him the power to execute, there is a Hand for that and not I will tolerate groundless executions"

The lord's in the hall agreed, the lady's snorted in silent annoyance.

"But husbands are given the power to order their wives, Lord Hand, and my bride has shown herself to be a capable wife by murdering the corrupt and bandits."

Said a loud voice, entering the throne room, wearing a golden doublet with Baratheon's black coat on the chest and a red cape with the lion embroidered in the same golden thread as the doublet, but in the lion's eyes, there were two rubies sewn and shining in the red fire in shock the morning light.

"The Crown Prince, Joffrey of House Baratheon"

The herald said afterwards and all the lords bowed before the future king, except Ned and Dyana, the lord still sitting on the throne analyzed the prince coldly but Dyana gave the biggest and most beautiful smile she could to her prince.

"However, most of those men were merchant spies in the service of Lord Petyr Baelish, the master of currency, he had control of them and a cleanup was being done, there were many more than just forty and only Lord Baelish eliminated more than fifty who embezzled the gold of the crown"

Ned said, receiving whispers and groans of surprise from the lords present. Littlefinger puffed out his proud chest and gave a sideways smile at Lady Dyana, who was looking at him, but Dyana only returned a scowl of contempt, which reminded Petyr of a certain northern man, who marked him from waist to collarbone.

"The death of those men was a breach of an agreement that ensured they were protected by royal pardon and exempt from the executioner's blade. My niece, in the name of your highness, massacred agents in the service of the crown and this will not be tolerated!"

The northerner's voice reverberated and the southern lords feared that serene man with harsh words. Prince Joffrey found himself at Dyana's side, kissing her right hand and giving her a wink.

"Corrupt agents"

The prince replied.

"Bronn! Bring the ledgers"

He ordered and a man wearing a boiled leather doublet with chainmail sewn on top and a battle helmet closed only with the visor, came out from behind the prince's entourage who had arrived minutes after the prince, who had Ser Jaime Lannister with him, next to the mercenary and seemed to protect him. The mercenary then arrived at the prince's side and removed four books from a leather bag, but it was noticeable that there were more than thirty inside.

"These are the simplest but if calculated, they generate a diversion of more than ten thousand in gold from the coffers and eyes of the master of currency"

Petyr clenched his fists when he saw those books and looked at Dyana, who was now smiling triumphantly at him, but contempt still shone in her amethyst eyes. Petyr once again remembered the Stark who stole his Catelyn.

"Is this true, Lord Baelish?"

Ned asked.

"This is just a stain on my plan, Lord Hand, a known stain that would be properly cleaned in his time. Lady Stark's crimes still affect the reliability of the merchants towards the justice of the king and his small council"

Petyr said.

"That's why I brought the others, Baelish"

Joffrey snapped his fingers and more men from his entourage brought out trunks and bags containing more books and the clink of coins resounded throughout the throne room.

"Two bags of records in books, tomes and parchments. Twenty chests of gold and silver, all very well hidden in manors and barracks throughout the Crownlands. These we found along the way back."

The chests were placed on the floor and opened to show mounds of gold piled on top of each other and in front of Ned Stark.

"Explain yourself Baelish"

He said.

"These... Are... A demonstration of my only error, Lord Stark. But an error that is still solvable. You know clearly that all those men had secrets, perversely hidden secrets, even my information network is not high, that's up to the master of whispers and not the master of coin. My duty is to the honor of the royal debt not to networks of corruption, the duty of the master of the king's laws"

Petyr responded with annoyance and indignation. Dyana smiled at his words, the way it came out of the executioner's trunk and Ice's edge was spectacular and ingenious but also incredibly naughty. That short man's shamelessness was the same as Moon Boy's, who amused her whenever he could.

"This is a matter for the small council, my lord's, for now my bride is clearly a true believer in the king's interests and has protected with her delicate hands, my father's honor and mine as her successor"

The prince then approached the throne and stood in front of the steps.

"This trial showed that a lady is a greater judge of the king's laws than the most honored lords of the kingdoms"

The lord's snorted in contempt and the lady's smiled at those words, Ned Stark frowned but remained silent. Petyr looked desperate and his face was sweating profusely, and the collar of his doublet pressed against his throat like a gallows rope. The silent Varys seemed impressed with the course of the trial and Renly Baratheon was not present, but the distant Ser Loras Tyrell could do nothing but silently curse.

"What will be her punishment, lord hand?"

The prince asked. Ned sighed and his shoulders seemed to relax, this was noticed by Dyana.

"Not guilty of all charges"