
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2002068.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major_Character_Death, Rape/Non-Con,
      Underage
  Category:
      F/M
  Fandom:
      A_Song_of_Ice_and_Fire_-_George_R._R._Martin, Game_of_Thrones_(TV)
  Relationship:
      Petyr_Baelish/Sansa_Stark, Harrold_Hardyng/Sansa_Stark
  Character:
      Sansa_Stark, Alayne_Stone, Harold_Hardyng, Petyr_Baelish, Anya_Waynwood,
      Robert_"Sweetrobin"_Arryn, Maester_Colemon, Nestor_Royce, Myranda_Royce,
      Mya_Stone, Albar_Royce, others_-_Character
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-07-22 Updated: 2014-09-26 Chapters: 4/11 Words: 5966
****** Of Dreams, Reality, and Sweet Lies ******
by Wthrdhndsbrknsl
Summary
     “A truth that's told with bad intent
     Beats all the lies you can invent.”
     ― William Blake, Auguries of Innocence
***** 0-Afraid *****
Chapter Notes
     "You need not be sorry for her. She was one of the kind that likes to
     grow up. In the end she grew up of her own free will a day quicker
     than the other girls."
     -J. M. Barrie, Peter Pan
     The more time I spend looking into the glass the less of my own face I
see. 
Not just physically, as was expected, but to my very core. I stood taller then
I had expected to grow, and I seemed to gain and lose weight in all of the
places I should have. My face thinned out, but was now framed by black locks.
The consistent dyeing of it seemed to have sucked all of the Tully right from
me. My stature was always rigid, that of an animal trapped in a cage searching
hopelessly for a way out. 
I had been right in my musing about the Eeyrie and how it would be a white cold
prison. Colder then I ever remember being in Winterfell, and the perpetual snow
stopped bringing me joy long ago. It all was a bit ironic if I allowed myself
to ponder it too long, or maybe that was just the bitterness crawling its way
into my thoughts.
As promised I created a mask, a mask for a woman I could very much level with.
A hardened mask, for a hardened woman, who lived a hard life. Alayna Stone was
only different in childhood, every second of my life since leaving home had
been harder then the last. But Sansa demanded respect from those not under the
employment of the Lannisters. A Stone is just a bastard, base born, I'm
practically a Snow. Well I was, I guess now its Alayna Hardyng, Lady of the
Eeryie. 
I had been trying for many moons to give the people of this land the benefit of
the doubt, but alas even the truly kind seeming ones had been plotting
selfishly my entire stay. Of course none forget their manners, they all sing
their songs. Like good little birds. The joke made so much sense now, the birds
of the castle tweeting their practiced pleasantries, and the mocking bird,
laughing it up at the predictable nature they've assumed. 
Harold Hardyng was the worst perpetrator of the bird and songs crime. All sugar
and lemon cakes until our agonizing moments of privacy. Then I would probably
be much better off stealing myself to the library or jumping through the moon
door. My perception of Harry is one of a storm dwelling, stirring, waiting. His
secrets were well known gossip and it was hard to pretend to not know. Children
at home, with a woman I had yet to find. A mystery I found the darkest parts of
my soul trying to learn for a reason that has me staring at myself wondering
how I could ever wish harm on a young mother, and her mistake she made out of
 love. 
But to learn anything beyond this white prison would mean speaking to Petyr
Bealish. Which was a task I would never have the grace of doing seeing as how I
had been left alone, with my fresh marriage, while he carted dear sweet Robyn
around the damn Vale taking, and thank the gods, almost all of the clucking
hens with him.
So to recap, he left me literally the morning after the charade of a wedding he
forced me into. All promises and knights, queens of love and beauty, and most
importantly gallons of wine. And the ending where I stumbled under the weight
of my drunken husband who stole the only prize  I had managed to save through
all of the bad in this life. 
I have grown, already, to resent my wifely duties. Being sweated on a snored at
has been a huge factor in my bitterness. It pains me to feel already a relation
to the awful things Cercei had said to me about men and sex. And all of it was
right, except the part where I ever felt like he even cared I was there.
Knowing your being touched out of duty, to produce a legitimate heir, to keep
up appearances. Well its enough to make you want to scream. Being sold is being
sold, whether I wanted it as a child or not, the seven can have their knights
and songs. 
O yes, looking in the glass before would have shown me glimpses of Sansa Stark,
but now all I see is Stone. 
***** 1-Come With Me Now *****
Chapter Notes
     "A smile is the best way to deal with difficult situations. Even if
     its a fake one. Used properly, you can fool anyone with them" - Sai
See the end of the chapter for more notes
I wake up pretty early most days, it has become a sort of peaceful habit which
allows me alone time. Its almost serene when the only noise is the wind blowing
through the towers. The only life the pretty little birds floating through the
sky.
As of late, loneliness was easy to find, with most of the castle gone I had
only my husband and a few servants to deal with. Even Maester Colemon had left,
although for that I was grateful. Harrold was on a hunt, leaving me blissfully
alone, and even better version of the comfort I found myself seeking in the
dusk.
Unfortunately the silence held truths unfaced, the demons we all pretend arn't
there, chasing us in our nightmares. Lord Bealish told me once that a lie only
becomes a lie once spoken, that the truth is how you perceive it.
A soft knock came at the door, and I felt my entire body lock up from my seat
at the window.
"Alayne, I figure you were still asleep, your maids havn't even been awoken
yet." Lord Bealish's smooth voice immediately relaxed me and a small smile
forced its way unto my lips.
"Please come in lord father, you must be weary from your travels" Practiced
levels, practiced names, but before I turned I closed the curtain. The door
shut quietly behind him, and I allowed myself a glance. He looked worn, but as
put together as ever. Most importantly I noted he wore a smile that for once
seemed to reach his eyes. He missed me.
"Petyr" I said warmly, giving him a genuine hug. The first contact I had wanted
in months. He immediately rested his head down into mine holding me tightly in
place.
"How have you fared, my little bird?" He purred before letting me go. I gave
myself enough time to think before sitting on the edge of my bed.
"Its been quiet and I've had lots to think about and adjust to, how have you
been?"
"And our dear heir?" He truly was a master deflector, and here I was thinking I
could avoid too much of the truth.
"He has his distractions, I've tried to hold his interest, but" I hesitated,
How far would I take my honesty? Was it better to lie? He just looked at me
patiently, waiting for the answer I didn't even know how to give. " I'm unsure
of what to do" Naivety and an uncomfortable topic. 
"in what regards" Dammit!
This time I felt much less brave, I had hoped the topic would be befitting of
him to wish to speak of and it would end the questions. I tried, and failed, at
keeping the blush from creeping onto my face. He just smiled brilliantly, "are
you afraid of an under performance my sweetling?" I just glared. "Oh, you just
have the lay there, its not as if he expects much else."
I finally just started giggling, the whole thing feeling kind of absurd. His
crystal chime of a laugh joined me as well. So much for serious conversations.
"I had to go take care of business in Gulltown, see that the shipments are safe
from the winter. Robyn and the rest of the castle should be here within a day
or two." A small victory indeed, I noted that he seemed a bit more open then
before, and he answered my question before I had to ask it again. 
"Good, it has been very lonely the last few days" 
"I'm sure it has if your this embarrassed about your marriage bed."
"it's just, I've allowed my mind to wander a lot in the last few weeks, I think
I'm simply thinking too much for my own good" 
He looked calculating a present, I cursed myself for being so daft as to assume
my half answers would suffice, as if I could distract Little Finger from
himself.  "well a bit of good news then? Your claim to the Vale
is legitimate, I did some digging around and once exiled you lose right to your
titles, land, and marriage." 
After that a comfortable silence fell between us. I pulled my legs off the cold
stone floor and leaned into my head board, patiently allowing him to remain in
control of the conversation and situation at hand. 
"Ser Hardyng will come around. You're very beautiful, he is probably intimated
by your presence in his bed. You have to give it time, and become a bit more
comfortable around him."
"Does it ever stop hurting" I could punch myself for being so stupid. Why the
fuck would I say that? 
"Yes" he didnt even look at me when he answered, probably thinking about how
foolish I am. Being to brash and open. "I'm going to get some rest, I'll see
you at dinner." He left still without glancing back, and for some reason that
hurt most of all. I pulled my knees to my chest and allowed my mind to drift
off again.
---
Days pass slowly when I steal myself away to hide in the maidens tower.
Harold's chambers, our chambers, felt uncomfortable and strangling in my waking
life. And here I can allow my masks to fall, and take a much needed break from
the stress of constant acting. I had meant to spend today reading, but found
myself having trouble focusing. 
I often though of Lord Bealish, most days trying to untie knots and find the
ends to schemes I knew I only had pieces of. Other days I cursed his existence,
sick of being trapped. Furious he could use me like one of his stupid pawns in
his game, days like that I referred to him only as Little Finger. The
differences in the two personas finally had become quite clear.
Aside from all of those very true things, I've always known him to have some
kind of deeper caring for me then he seems to grant to anyone else around him.
Its hard to tell what that is however. He must see me as the Tully woman grown
I've become. But he seems more to feel obligated to protect me as one would
there kin. I'm not sure which makes me more uncomfortable anymore. But I can
tell he desires to do right by me.  
Most of the time, wether my thoughts drifted to his kindness or to his
coldness, I still hated that they landed at his feet.
---
 Dressing for diner had become part of my routine of getting back into
character. I believe that if I just think about being a lady enough, everything
my septa taught me should shine through. And it does.
As I approached to hall to dine, I took practiced, straight back steps. I stood
taller then I needed to, and set my face to a quaint, light hearted smile. The
first face I notice is my husbands. He looks excited, eyes shining a bright as
the blue morning sky. He looks beautiful, but its hard to see him this way when
we are alone. He notices me staring and the light dies.
"My lovely wife. I have been looking for you all day." Doubt it. 
"I was reading in one of the towers, I'm very sorry I had no idea you'd be home
so soon." I smiled dutifully, approached my place next to him. Brushed the
sandy hair away from his face and kissed him on the cheek. "I'm glad to see you
made it home in one piece, our room has been very cold without you." Lies.
Diner was mostly filled with talk of food, supplies and money. I noticed Lord
Bealish seemed eerily quiet tonight, only chirping in with some stats from
around the vale.  The amount of people at the table seemed to have tripled
since my diner the night before. A most of the guards I recognized from my time
I had spent here, many of them seemed very kind to me. But I knew that they are
not my men, they are Harry's. By the end of the meal and talk, I excused myself
to my chambers.
Dressing for bed was still strange in comparison to before. Now when I dressed
I did so by taking off more then I would be leaving on.  I shivered before
climbing into the bed, grateful for the furs to keep me warm. I listened for
him to come in from diner, patiently.
He stumbled when he walked through the threshold, stumbled while trying to
undress. I decided to sit up and help, crawling across the bed to wear he was
seated on the edge. I helped him with the boots, then went to help with the
ties on his pants. He grabbed my hand though before I could be of much use.
"My apologies, my lord, I have offended you."  he simply grunted and let my
hand fall back onto his lap. I felt him twitch under the weight of it, while I
methodically undid them. He finished the rest of his undressing just fine still
avoiding my gaze. I sort of hoped he would continue to avoid me and save me the
trouble of pleasing him. But all thoughts of hope always come too soon.
He gently pushed me down to be laying. I rolled to face him, but he just simply
pushed me onto my side. He did start slower this time, rubbing little circles
on my thighs and stomach while pulling up my small clothes. My heart hammered
in my chest, unable to see him as he forced my back to him. But he was
different this time, almost careful as he bit little kisses down the side of my
neck and shoulders. The pace was causing me to feel something, in my stomach
and legs, a sort of nervousness I had wished to hide. Or maybe dread. 
He, unexpectedly, pushed a finger inside of me. I gasped in surprise expecting
a wicked pain to spread through me. It didn't as he moved it around, it
actually felt almost ok. As he pulled it out, he traced over a sensitive spot
just long enough to make me want to squirm uncomfortably. Then I felt the
normal pressure and pain of him entering me. This time as he moved and snaked
his arms to hold me closer, again I felt something different then normal, a
sort of pressure build up I hadn't expected. His nails were digging slightly
into my breasts, so to ease the pain I pushed myself closer to his chest. But
he only grabbed tighter, and even tighter still before plainly saying Myria
before spilling his sticky seed into me. And with that a familiar sense if
emptiness filled me. 
---
Chapter End Notes
     I wont always be able to update this often. But the intro chapter was
     soo short, and I'm trying to stay one pre-write ahead of myself.
***** 2-Frontline *****
Chapter Notes
     "Why do beautiful songs make you sad?'
     'Because they aren't true.'
     'Never?'
     'Nothing is beautiful and true."
     - Jonathan Safran Foer, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Upon the arrival of Robyn back atop the mountain. the entire castle seemed to
erupt into motion. Life was hectic for a few days, and they passed quickly
enough. 
First things first, there was gossip to catch up on. Myranda Royce was sure to
fill me in on the inner workings of our noble men, and what they did whilst
away from home. As long as I played her little game back, I was sure to learn
all the details. And although there was a time when gossip had been a great bit
of fun, now it simply passed the time for me, while waiting for the tiny pieces
of information regarding my family, friends, and land. All of which never
seemed to be mentioned unless it was in a bitter reminder that I will never
have them again. 
"Tell me, how is seeing our handsome Harry in the bedroom?" Her excitement to
my answer was palpable, but I knew I shouldn't disappoint.
"Great, not that I have much to compare it to" She snorted with laughter.
"O, Alayne. It can't be all bad"
"Its getting better" now I laughed too. All in all, it was funny. Id assume
plenty of maids, in arranged marriages, don't care for their husbands at the
beginning. 
It was nice to just laugh for a bit. To feel so human when I had spent most of
this time feeling like a leper. Of course I was worried she would gossip all my
gossip around, but it was no secret I had never been to bed. "But honestly
Alayne, you two are the most beautiful match. The entire Vale has spoken of
nothing else" If only she understood the charade of a marriage we have
endured. 
"How old is his bastard?" I clapped my hand over my mouth immediately after I
asked the question. 
"Heard about that huh?" In truth I had been hearing it for awhile now. Mostly
from Myranda herself when she was unaware I was perched in the halls whilst she
spoke. "He, if rumor is true, is only about 1 or 2. But the woman is ready to
pop out the second son." I nodded curtly in response before deciding I needed
to distract her. 
"You must share with me some advice for keeping him interested in me." I
recovered quickly to a bawdy topic she looked positively gleeful to explain. 
Knowing the age of his son explained a lot. Like why he still wanted her, and
his distance from me. I can't fathom leaving such a young child behind, before
they even know your their father. Again my heart ached for Jon, how cruel I
always was to this boy with no mother. And could i raise a child who wasn't my
own if Harold brought his choices home, would I end up like my mother, secretly
hating an innocent child all because of his fathers' mistakes.
Calm as water, Cold as stone.
---
"Your lessons today will be in maintaining an inner calm, regardless of your
surroundings." Petyr Bealish paced like a cat in front of his large oak desk.
The chair I sat in was soft leather, with a high back, perched behind the
massive thing. I took note how organized it always was, not a single page out
of place. 
"And how will we be doing that?"
"simple enough" He sat in a much smaller chair across from me " I will tell you
things, things I believe should spark an emotion from you. Do your best to fool
me into thinking what you're saying is true in response"
"yes my Lord"  
"Your queen has been losing her grip on reality, the kingdoms weep for her,
wouldn't you say" The boyish grin on his face was almost enough to make me
laugh allowed. Courtesy is a woman's shield. 
"May the 7 bless her with the guidance and wisdom she requires" I watch him
closely, as he puts his hands on the desk in the open and adjusts himself to
sit more leisurely. 
"A comfortable man, is a trustworthy one. Always keep your hands somewhere they
can be seen and try to resist clenching your fists like you do"
"Never let them see your nerves." I repeat previous lessons back to him, in
hopes of gaining some praise.
He smiles. "your husband has been seen visiting his son"
I take a short breath before attempting to speak. What would I need the
illusion to be for the people? "I gave him my leave to do so" the lie unfolds
off from my tongue slithering in between us. Lord Bealish looked taken aback.
"why?"
"A man should take care of his responsibilities. How can his people think he
will be a good father to the Vale if he can't be a good father to his own flesh
and blood, who will follow a man like that?"
He stared at me for a long time then. I felt myself squirming under his grey
eyes gaze. Of course I didn't know that he had so quickly betrayed me.  had he
even given me time to clean the blood from our marriage bed before he ran back
to his former life. Was I ever going to be given a chance at all or was it
truly as Cerscei said, and my only purpose was to give legitimate children as
well as his base-born ones. 
"Alayne. Very good, but remember to watch your hands" I looked down to see them
clenched a top the desk. I sigh heavily in response. 
"My lord, may I take my leave?" 
"I am sorry that this is what I've brought you to, if only I had been granted
my wish in King's Landing" he seemed to not hear my request. I watched a she
stared into his lap, watched this confident man look sullen and defeated. 
"And what wish would that be?" Curiosity got the better of me. 
I must have snapped him out of it, because he shot hi head up at me. "it
doesn't matter now, I had offered to take you in place of the imp. I felt I
owed it to Cat. To you and your family whom have suffered so much"
The bitterness turned to acid in my throat. Someone, somewhere owed her a lot
more then bedding he daughter. "You have already done so much, do not diminish
it with what ifs" Like what if I had listened to my mother. What if I had
married a Tyrell. What if Robb had kept his word and won. Never did the thought
of what if I was married to Littlefinger ever cross my mind. "You saved me, you
gave me the Vale, you defended me when your own wife tried to kill me, even if
I still hide who I am, I believe one day you will tell me when we are safe for
me to claim back my name."
"you have learned a great deal from me. I promise one day you will be happy" He
paused again and looked me directly in the eyes."how about a kiss goodnight
before you leave?"
I stood slowly being careful to keep my eyes affixed to the ground. By the time
i made it around the desk, I could have sworn that my stomach felt light and
empty. He had a small smile on his face, but the saddest eyes I had ever seen.
I leaned down to brush my lips on his bristly cheek, but he turned his face and
caught my mouth with his own. 
This was nothing like all that time ago in the snow. I wasn't trembling with
fear at being taken advantage of. Instead I felt strong, and as he push his
kiss into me I pushed back. It wasn't until the warmth spread over me that I
jumped away. "Goodnight" I stammered back the blush betraying my fake calm. I
left quickly before he could say anything else, eyes back to the ground in
front of me. The moment the heavy door closed behind me, I took my first full
rattled breath of fresh air.  
---
I managed to get into the kitchens to steal myself a pitcher of arbor gold. It
would have been simpler to just ask for it, but I wanted to be left alone. Plus
getting into the kitchens once night fell on the castle was easy, no one had
need to be in there. I found myself a place in tower looking over the rocks of
the mountains below. The wine keeping me warm from the crisp winter air. 
Suddenly I remember the first time Lord Bealish saved my life. When half of the
hall of court tried to have me thrown from the city. Right after my father had
been taken in irons. "Give her a chance to prove loyalty" the words echoed. I
hadn't seen it like that originally. Seven hells I hadn't even remember he was
there. 
Looking back at my foolish love, my storybook dreams. Joffrey wasn't a prince,
he was an inbreed bastard. All of the wine in Westeros and beyond couldn't
clean the grim of him of from me. I thought of Ser Dontes, was kindness to me
always bought and paid for?
I took another deep gulp of wine directly from the pitcher. I was such a
terrible little shit, I deserve less then even an old coin counter in my bed. I
deserved someone like Harry. 
"Do you deny your fathers crimes?" I am a coward, as if any of my pitiful
attempts at resisting Joffrey's rule ever got noticed. I should have shoved him
into the pit by my fathers head.
I'm no wolf, I'm not even a fish. I'm a full fledged coward. 
And yet I'm alive, and in no small part that's because of handsome man. Whom I
know has done anything he thought he should for me. 
Or was it for some promise of a title i don't even have. I'm queen of the ashes
of Winterfell. And he clearly wants to one day be my king. But is that for my
mother as well, or so he can win that duel he lost all those years ago. 
Family, Loyalty, Honor. Tully words, but not a single trait I still had. My
family was gone, my loyalties where clearly for the lord of ashes. And any
honor I had was lost when I watched my father die. 
I tilted my head back and finished my wine. I felt myself drifting into a weak
rest. My ghosts haunting me with what ifs as their weapons. Stabbing at my very
soul. I dreamed of my past, my present. And then I dreamed of being a bird,
singing my mocking song to a beautiful young woman. And as she held her hand
out from inside the room, I didn't fly I simply fell into the rocks below.
--- 
Chapter End Notes
     Sorry for the delay. Fun fact: I have most of up to chapter five
     done, so really the problem is typing it into the computer and
     believing its good enough to share. No worries I'm getting more
     confident in my plan for this.
***** 3- Mr. Brightside *****
Chapter Notes
     “You must remember, my dear lady, the most important rule to any
     successful illusion: first, the people must want to believe in it.” –
     Libba Bray, The Sweet Far Thing
See the end of the chapter for more notes
The birds chirped happily in the morning dew. I awoke with a head ache ringing
in my ears, last nights’ bitter taste still stinging the back of my throat.
Like unspent bile, clawing and fighting for a freedom of any kind.
I felt useless, like a waste of seed that couldn’t protect her own life.
Someone who has been so groomed for constraints that my own fear has kept me a
prisoner, terrified to claim any birthright. Wearing a mask that was perfectly
crafted for me, how could I ever hope to shed it?
I walked back to my marriage room slowly, listening to the chirping musically
in my ears. O how I have grown to hate music, between Lysa’s awful singer and
my last song to Sandor Clegane, no beauty had been left in the melodic sounds
of even nature.
Yet my mind seems to be bent on forcing me to rewatch my father being walked to
the execution block. The sacrifice he made to protect me even in his last
moments. The lie he forced from his lips to save us. I can still feel the
scream at the base of my tongue.
For not the first time, I just want to be alone. I’ve taken no comfort in
others, not even the distractions Lord Bealish offers from his lessons. People
have wronged me at every turn, lied to me at every opportunity. I wish I could
fly away, or even just fall.
As I approached my chambers, my tears became too salty to force down.  I
attempted weak shaky breaths to relax me, fearful of any questions, praying to
every god that my lord husband would be out. As I reached to push open the
heavy door I realized my fruitless efforts.
“And just where have you been my lady” the last part came out as a sneer once I
was face to face with Harold.
“I feel asleep in the maiden’s tower reading”
“Then why, pray tell, do you look as if you have been weeping? Do you think I
am blind and dumb?” It felt like a trap, yet my mind reminded me that I thought
exactly those things. “Are you feeling guilty for something, afraid to see me?”
he stood close enough that I could smell the wine on his breath. As my silence
stretched on the birds mocked him.  “ANSWER ME!”
“Are you? Feeling guilty that is. I would think that in our situation I have
nothing to feel guilty about.” I knew even as I spit my responses that keeping
quite was a much better plan. Fire stretched across his face, his eyes dark
with rage.  He reached behind me and slammed the door shut.
“I will be Lord of the entire Vale, and I will do whatever pleases me. You are
just lucky to have lost your bastard name and should be groveling at my feet.”
“Not with me” Defiance never yielded good results. I think I heard the slap
before I ever felt the sting stretch across my face. He hit like a knight. My
eyes weld up quickly with unshed tears.
“I will not be made a fool of by some fingers rat. You are here to settle a
debt and keep my bed warm. Which you have robbed me of by sneaking off like
some common whore. “
I choked back a sob. “Will I ever be anything more?” The question hung in the
air like some form of madness I didn’t realize I had held onto. Did some small
part of me even want more?
“If I’ve had any luck, the mother of my proper children.”
I attempted to move past him, to shield my face from his gaze. MY heart pounded
so hard I was sure I would throw it up at any moment. His arm shot out behind
me and gripped painfully at my shoulders stopping me from getting any more
space between us. I felt his hot acrid breath on my neck, “Now be a good little
girl and lay down on the bed. And do us both a favor a quit pretending you hate
it.”
---
Even after a couple of days my face looked no less damaged. My eye and cheek
both shined with bruising, and my shoulder had small finger shaped marks. I was
afraid to see the rest.
I easily lied to the measter and to the little lord. I told them my
embarrassing story of drinking a bit too much and falling into a jut of stone
in one of the towers. Alas milk of the poppy became a small hidden staple to
allow me to get adequate rest.
I did however attempt to spend some time with Robyn. His little smiles for me
had always managed to cheer me up, as long as I looked past the little fits.
“Alayne. Tell me a story” he pleased from under his covers on his bed. I took a
mental note of the sunken in eyes and lack luster in his hair. Little Robyn
looked much sicker then I remember.
“What kind of story?”
“One I’ve never heard before”
It took me a minute to think of something I haven’t used yet, a short morality
story my septa told me came to mind.
“How about The Fox and the Crow?”
“A Fox once saw a Crow fly off with a piece of cheese in its beak and settle on
a branch of a tree.
     "That's for me, as I am a Fox," said Master Reynard, and he walked up to
the foot of the tree.
     "Good day, Mistress Crow," he cried. "How well you are looking today: how
glossy your feathers; how bright your eye. I feel sure your voice must surpass
that of other birds, just as your figure does; let me hear but one song from
you that I may greet you as the Queen of Birds."
     The Crow lifted up her head and began to caw her best, but the moment she
opened her mouth the piece of cheese fell to the ground, only to be snapped up
by Master Fox.
     "That will do," said he. "That was all I wanted. In exchange for your
cheese I will give you a piece of advice for the future: "Do not trust
flatterers."”
---
Aside from my secret visits with my cousin, most of my time in the next week
was spent alone. And luckily enough, without Harold. He said he needed to clear
his head, and would be gone for some time, and ordered me to remain hidden and
“ill”. Appearances, appearances, appearances, etcetera. With most of my face
healed, save a small shiner, I decided to pay Lord Bealish a visit for a much
needed distraction.
In a daze I wandered slowly to his sept, hoping to catch him there, although it
was already much later then appropriate for visits. At the top of the steps I
heard footsteps and a door opening. Quickly I decided to hide myself in the
alcove of the window and held my breath.
“My lady, I thank you dearly for the visit.” Littlefinger’s voice started.
“No, no Lord Protector, Thank you” Myranda sounded almost minxy “are you sure
you don’t want me to stay?”
“I have much to attend to, it would be best if you take your leave, besides I
don’t need rumors flying about”
“Goodnight then” her giggling voice made me feel a wave a nausea wash over me.
That and a flash of unexplained anger. I heard her footsteps coming towards my
hidden form and with a shaky breath decided to step out to great her. “Alayne!
Dear you scared me half to death. What are you doing?”
“I… I wanted to speak with my father about something, but it can just wait till
the morning. Would you accompany me to my chambers? I still am not feeling
well.”
She smiled so sweetly before taking the top of my arm in her hand, and begun
walking back the way I had just come. “I was sorry to hear of your illness,
fevers are terrible things” her small talk seemed to keep me on edge; my
muscles bound tight waiting for an attack. “you know, most women become quite
ill when they are with child.”
“As have I, one can only hope”
“Well here we are dear, I’m off to catch some sleep” she seemed to almost skip
down the hall. My stomach lurched again watching her well-shaped form in the
distance.
I swallowed by unexplainable turmoil and decided it must just be nerves from
all the stress. Firstly I drank a small serving of milk of the poppy to relax
myself; the familiar feeling of unwinding of my tightly corded muscles sent
some sweet relief to mind. Choosing to ignore the twinge of jealousy and
Myranda’s constantly happy state.
I made my way over to my wash tub and pulled a stone from beneath it. Hidden
under was an assortment of seal containers, I grabbed the one closest to my
hand. It took me a second to uncork the bottle, but at last the horrid smell
reached my nostrils. Moon tea had its own unique viscous consistency that made
it hard to pour, swallow, and clean. But with a deep breath I chocked down the
contents.
Lightly as a cat I made my way over the window, drawing the heavy curtains
open. I looked outside to check if there was much life still bustling through
the castle. Once it was clear I was alone, I threw the container and watched it
smash on the ground below with a strange sort of inability to tear my eyes from
the wreckage.
As my eyes began to feel heavy, I slowly undressed from my gown. Again I
thought of the scene on the stairs, my stomach knotting in response.
---
Chapter End Notes
     The story in the second portion is directly take from: http://
     www.eastoftheweb.com/short-stories/UBooks/FoxCrow.shtml
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