Book 2: The Secrets We Covet

Chapter 20 - A Royal Wedding

Lyon's dress was nowhere near as splendid as her wedding dress had been, but she enjoyed the blue sleeveless gown regardless. It reminded her of the sea, of which she had grown increasingly fond of during her time mulling over maps with Toren and Jerro. The seagull cries and the sound of waves rocking the hull of the ship lulled her to sleep each night. The memory of them enough to bring calm to her raging thoughts.

Still, she hadn't felt that same calm that she felt when she decided she would wait to kill Jaime Lannister.  Finding that she should wait until she could fight him on equal grounds then show him that no matter how hard he trained or how many hours he put in, she would still be the end of him. She would have to suffer his company today, though.

Only an hour ago the city had witnessed Joffrey's and Margery's weddings. When Joffrey cloaked his wife, Lyon felt not an ounce of jealousy. She knew Margery was hers, and she Margery's. Even as Margery and Joffrey kissed, she felt nothing but love for her wife. Wife. Because would always be Lyon's wife before she was Joffrey's wife. They had made sure of that under the covers many times over.

The reception was held in the gardens, which seemed to fill with an endless stream of guests. From jesters, to jugglers and actors. Lyon spotted a contortionist and watched in amazement as the woman's body folded and twisted almost unnaturally. She wondered what it would be like to move like that- to have that much control over her body. Lyon was flexible, but nowhere near that flexible.

Her eyes caught sight of Tyrion and Bronn some ways off not far after the reception began, but her attention was diverted by another presence. Or rather, presences. 

"Amazing, isn't it, how many limits the human body can test?" A man she had never met stopped beside her and eyed the contortionist. There was a hunger in his eyes. No, lust. On her other side was a woman, similar in dress and complexion.

"It is indeed. I'm afraid I haven't made either of your acquaintances. I'm Lyon."

"Just Lyon? What, don't enjoy your husbands name?" The woman teased.

Lyon chuckled, not about to let these two unnerve her. "You must be Oberyn and Ellaria. Forgive my informality. You go through as many names as I do and you stop going by them for fear they won't stick."

"Make your own name then." Oberyn grinned, enjoying the sudden fire in her eyes as she met his eyes.

"Working on it." Lyon's smile was sharp like a dagger's edge.

"Do tell..." he dared to inch closer, and she felt Ellaria close in on her other side. Yet she didn't feel threatened. She shook her head, chuckling.

"I'm afraid I am bound to silence. Perhaps we will become better acquainted in the coming days." She backed away into the crowd, waved a farewell, and then she was lost among the throng. Ellaria and Oberyn locked eyes, grinning fiercely at this new mystery presented before them.

Lyon escaped Oberyn and Ellaria to find her husband, and found Loras standing next to the wrong Lannister. She seethed at the sight of Jaime, but buried that rage and looked to Margery, all smiles as she celebrated her wedding day. She was approached suddenly by the tallest woman Lyon had ever laid eyes on, who bowed before the King and Queen.

"Your Grace. My King. My Queen." She said in a deep umber. Margery rose and shook the woman's hand.

"Lady Brienne, so good of you to come."

"I'm no lady, your Grace."

Ah, so this was Brienne of Tarth, the woman Margery spoke so fondly of. A swordswoman, much like Lyon.

Lyon eavesdropped until the conversation ended, pretending to be involved in some conversation with a cluster of guests. When Brienne slipped away from the King's table, Lyon moved to follow, but Cersei made it to the warrior first.