48 Wolf And Stag

Clang. Clang. Clang.

Whooosh.

With a strong flick of his wrist, Edric sent Arya's needle flying high into the air. He then pointed his longsword at her.

"I think practice swords would do better than live steel," Edric remarked in the scolding tone of an older brother. "It wouldn't be ideal if we cut each other."

"You don't say."

She tried to punch Edric in the babymaker, but he used Huper-Focus to see it in slowed time. He grabbed her hand by the wrist and twisted it slightly. She didn't give up, aiming a punch to his kidney with her other hand. He grabbed her fist with his far larger palm, enveloping it. Then, in a single motion, he pulled Arya's arms behind her back and gently threw her to the ground.

"Are you done?" He raised an eyebrow as she glanced at him with a fierce look. 

"I… hate you."

"Hate's a strong word." 

"And I meant it."

"I don't believe you did, not truly." Edric shook his head. "You have every right to be upset... and I won't make any excuses for what happened. The Tyrells saw an opportunity, and they took it. However, I was the one who created it in the first place. I was careless..."

Arya's frown eased only slightly.

"So...?"

"I'm sorry." Edric's expression looked sincere as he sighed. "I really am… for everything. For the longest time, I've thought about breaking our betrothal so many times. For Margaery, your sister… for any lady that would serve me better." 

"I'm not surprised." Arya frowned, shaking her head. Her self-mocking expression mellowed to a downcast one as she continued to speak. "Everyone knows; everyone says it behind my back. That I'm not pretty enough, too wild, unrefined, unlady-like… and you're… you. Every lady's fantasy. An invincible warrior, an inspiring leader and a handsome King. They'd all get on the floor and kiss your feet if you asked them to."

Edric's grip eased as he listened carefully to Arya's words.

"Sansa is right… why would you even want to be with me? The only reason I'm here is because our fathers bid it so… but neither of them are here now." She bit her lip. "I'll break our betrothal and go back to Winterfell. That way, you can do whatever you want. It would be for the better anyway... you don't even like me. You just act like it because you have to."

"Arya..." 

It was undoubtedly tempting for Edric. He could move away from the little wolf girl and find someone closer to his age—probably someone more pleasant, too. But... it didn't feel right. He would get what he wanted while sending Arya away with nothing but pain.

"You'll do no such thing." He lowered his head, his deep blue eyes looking into hers. "Listen... it doesn't matter what Sansa, Margaery or any other lady says. You're stronger than any one of them and brilliant in ways that none of them can understand. You're my lady... and one day, you will be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. Not just any queen, you'll be a great one. I know it to be true."

"You're just trying to make me feel better," she said, frowning and shaking her head. "Let go of me."

"... Alright." Edric let go of her wrists and stood up. "But I want you to come with me."

Arya got off the ground and stretched her arms. Then she looked up at Edric and slowly nodded with a conflicted expression.

"Fine."

He took her to the top of Storm's End's only tower, one of Edric's most favoured sights. He leaned against one of the square stone merlons, overlooking the castle and expanding Narrow Sea.

"You know, when I grew up here, I wasn't very popular... oh, not at all. I had no friends; all the ladies frowned at me, and I was alone. All the time. That Edric would've never been King, not even if it was his heart's greatest desire." Edric said, his hair swaying with the wind. "But... I started trying. Going outside of what I was comfortable with. My confidence grew... and I steadily improved with it." 

Arya listened keenly, not even interrupting him.

"That's the main thing." He turned to her and smiled. "Confidence. When they called me a bastard, I owned it like a suit of Valyrian steel armour. Even to this day, no enemy of mine can use it to insult me. In the same way, you should be proud of your strengths rather than shun them. As for your weaknesses? Needlework? Seriously... when will I ask you to knit me something?"

"I don't think you ever would," Arya answered. "Even if you wanted, you'd ask someone better to do it."

"Mhm… what about singing? Well, if I wanted a singer, I'd marry Marillion." 

Arya chuckled momentarily, shaking her head. "But... there are some weaknesses that are important, and I can't fix them."

"You're talking about your looks? Don't worry about them. They're not something you can control, and... besides, I believe you'll be absolutely stunning someday."

"You do?" She blinked.

"Mhm, just as Lyanna Stark was." Edric gave her a reassuring smile. "However, what matters most to a Queen is this..."

He tapped her forehead.

"The head on her shoulders. Wits."

"... Hm." She touched her forehead, looking at the sea. "A wise King would do better with a clever Queen."

"Mhm..." Edric nodded. "I've told a great many lies and half-truths, yet you always see through them. It's quite telling that grown men and women fall for it but not a little girl like you. Intelligence is an invaluable skill. Yes, it can be harnessed and improved, but some are simply born smarter than others."

"..." Arya nodded, each word of his like a hammer at a forge - hammering out her insecurities one after the other.

"Do you know about the Good Queen Alysanne?" Edric questioned.

"Of course... she was King Jaehaerys' the Concilliator's wife. She rode the dragon Silverwing and everyone loved her, both highborn and smallfolk. She changed the laws of the Realm, especially the ones that were against girls. The main ones were Widow's Law and the lord's right to the first night which she abolished."

"I don't think your sister would give me so much detail." Edric chuckled.

Arya grinned slightly. "She'd rather dream about knights than read old history books."

"History is important, indeed. It sets a precedent for all that we do." Edric nodded. "Did you know Alysanne was a keen archer and hunter? These were rather unladylike activities. She wasn't born with the idea that she would be queen, being the youngest of the King's daughters. She also had a strong sense of independence, adventure, and freedom. She would take flights of fancy whenever... just because. She was keenly intelligent, high-spirited, a fine rider who enjoyed physical activities and someone who lived amongst the smallfolk from time to time—despite her station."

"Does that sound... similar to someone we know?"

"..." Arya's grey eyes sparkled slightly as she kept looking at Edric. When he put it that way, they did seem eerily similar. It was definitely high praise to be compared to Queen Alysanne. She smiled slightly, nodding. "Yes, she does."

"She wasn't beautiful either, no, not like most of the Targaryens who tended to be more akin to gods than men. That didn't matter, though. She was charming regardless and loved by many." Edric turned to Arya, ruffling her hair. "Do you think Sansa could bear to so much as talk to a butcher's boy, let alone befriend him?"

"Not in a lifetime." Arya smiled, feeling more confident in herself. 

"See, you do have what it takes. One of the most important roles of a Queen is to befriend and charm others, to be leader amongst the ladies of the Realm. You only need to refine your many gifts and you will make a finer queen than anyone else."

"However, that means going outside of what you're comfortable and resembling more of a lady when you need to. You shouldn't be an outcast in the royal court… and I know you have the ability not to be. You just need to try, alright?"

"Sure… I'll try." She nodded, pouting slightly. "But you've dodged the matter about Margaery."

"You want me to turn back time?" Edric raised an eyebrow. "I was piss drunk and… well, my drunk self doesn't like to be lonely at night-"

"Promise me it won't happen again." Arya looked at him with a stern expression.

"..." Edric smiled, shaking his head while placing a hand on his heart. "I swear it won't happen again, by the Old Gods and the New."

"If it does, I'll poke her with Needle."

"I could only imagine her terror." Edric chuckled.

"That goes for any lady. Not just Margaery." Arya turned around and started going down the steps.

"I hope ol' Joffrey didn't give you a taste for blood," Edric remarked. "Little girls shouldn't go around stabbing people."

"But it's perfectly fine when you bash a hundred people with your massive Warhammer?" Arya glanced back. "Or shoot down hundreds with arrows?"

"I'm not a little girl." Edric shrugged. 

"You're only two years older."

'If I wasn't a reincarnator…' Edric thought. "Don't argue with me on this, alright? I only mean the best for you."

"Mhm…" She didn't sound convinced. "I'm going to continue practicing."

'Brat…'

Edric chuckled as she left. 

"It seems that you truly intend to marry the Stark one day." Raiden Shogun remarked, floating above the tower.

"Yeah," Edric admitted. "It's the right thing to do."

~

A middle-aged man rested in the sun on a bench on the balcony of a great manse, surrounded by three beautiful women of Valyrian descent. Their hair was silver and blonde, and their eyes were violet, lilac, and dark blue. One massaged his shoulders, the other his arms, and the third his scarred legs.

He was in paradise, grinning from ear to ear. There was nothing better in life. 

"Indulging in your endless hedonistic proclivities rather than seeing me, father?"

An ethereal beauty that eclipsed the three others combined strode forward with confidence, thieving the sun's light. Dorian slowly opened his eye, glancing to the side. His grin turned into a warm smile.

"Sweet Rhae... I was going to see you in due time." He chuckled. "Clever girl, you found me first."

"Mhm." She raised an eyebrow. "You asked me to sail all the way here to Pentos for good reason, I hope."

"Does a loving father need reason to see his princess?"

"I had thought your boy King had you chained down doing his dirty work... for a gold dragon per day?"

"You're a woman now; you don't need me holding your hand every day," Dorian chuckled. "I heard you've done exceptionally well for yourself, for that matter. The profits you made triple what I expected from my clever girl... Seven Hells, you created your own merchant guild from my meagre allowance. You may even be richer than I."

"Well, of course..." She couldn't help but smile slightly. "I learned from the best... and I don't spend my gold on pointless proclivities."

"Someone needs to be tight-fisted with her gold to compensate for my careless spending," Dorian chuckled. "Speaking of... now is the time to put your talents to use, my dear."

"Hm?" She raised an eyebrow. "You would have me serve your favourite little bastard as well?"

"Precisely... and he's not so little."

"There are a hundred things I'd rather do than play serving girl to him."

"..." He sighed, shaking his head. "Ladies, give us a moment."

The three women silently left, and Dorian stood up, turning to face his daughter.

"Is this where you somehow manage to convince me otherwise?" She questioned, crossing her arms.

"Aye." Dorian chuckled. "... I know you enjoy your freedom, and Lys the Lovely is most definitely a finer place to live than Shit's Landing. However-"

"However, baby Edric has lightning magic and is just so brilliant." She added with a tone of sarcasm.

"He's a charming and amusing lad-"

"I could hire a jester if I sought amusement."

"Now, now... I know you have grand ambitions, but such ambitions require more than gold to realise. They need power, the sort that can change the world. Edric will one day have that."

"You don't mean to sell me to him?"

"I wouldn't dare to." Dorian shook his head. "I am simply asking you to act in my interests while I am away. You need not do more than support him as I would. Now is a time of paramount importance, after all. The tides are changing... and he needs a shadow to watch over him."

"While you go and play with the dragons?"

"Aye... the last pieces that need to fall." Dorian smiled, shrugging his shoulders. "Besides, there will be a grand wedding and tourney to go with it. Didn't you once express your desire to witness one? Imagine all the trumpets, euphonious songs, handsome knights, mighty lords and beautiful ladies... an event that shall be remembered for centuries to come."

"That's a picture I would like to witness." She smiled slightly. "I'm only going for the tourney. After that-"

"You will have time to spread your wings, Rhaerra. I need you to do this now. I wouldn't trust anyone else."

"..." After exchanging looks, she slowly nodded. "If that is your wish, father."

"Good girl. When I return, you better not be smothering my King after acting so stubborn... or I'll laugh my remaining eye out. Though, if it was your desire, I wouldn't mind him for a son-"

"Mayhaps you should marry him yourself." She chuckled.

"Oh, if I were a woman, I most definitely would." Dorian jested, shrugging his shoulders. "Anyway, I am certain you will take a liking to him. He might even help you with your archery. The boy can shoot with deadly accuracy from hundreds of paces and perfectly pierce plate."

"... Hundreds of paces with deadly accuracy?" She raised an eyebrow. "You must be jesting."

"Oh, not at all. Edric is quite extraordinary... though you'll only properly understand when you see him for yourself."

...

Later, in Illyrio's manse.

"What brings you to my grand abode, Dorian-Daggerhand?" Illyrio sat at a table with him, watching him drink his full. "You were meant to stay by the bastard's side, last I recall."

"Ahh..." Dorian savoured the last of the wine in his goblet before placing it down. "See, I had a change of plans. Edric is no longer the boy who would toss his crown away to anyone, not even a dragon."

"Then you should have disposed of him."

"What gives you the idea that you can command me?" Dorian grinned, drawing a dagger and observing its glistening blade. The plump Unsullied guards around the room edged forward. "You want an assassin? Go hire one, cheesemonger."

"Don't tell me you've turned your cloak on your blood for that boy."

"My blood, please..." Dorian scoffed, laughing at his accusation. "What has my blood done for me? Save me the sob story; you know I only serve myself. Now... I ask you, do you have more of those dragon eggs?"

"They do not grow on trees." Illyrio shook his head. 

"A shame. I'd like a dragon-egg growing tree."

"However, I know where you might buy one... though the price is costly. Since Daenerys hatched hers, the owner believes he might do the same and treasures it most deeply."

"I might fancy to take it for free, in that case."

"For free..." Illyrio chuckled, his friendly expression turning serious. "Of course. The information will not be free, however."

"Is that so?" Dorian observed his reflection. "If I were truly a turncoat, I would've stabbed you in your sleep and robbed you of all your riches. Even now... your cockless, fat, soldiers wouldn't stop me from killing you either. All it would take is one throw."

"All you have to tell me is where this dragon-egg-treasuring cunt merchant rests and I'll be on my way."

"..." Illyrio's heart raced a bit as he observed Dorian's fearless eye. His stare was unwavering and still like a calm lake. "Very well, I'll tell you."

Dorian smiled, showing his most unsettling pointy teeth.

"Glad we could come to an arrangement, old friend."

~