PYROPHILIA ▸ Aegon the Conqueror

chapter vi.

     

RHAENYS HAD ASKED for her very early that morning. It had been a couple of months since they had arrived in King's Landing and Lyarra had learned to like the place. It was hardly a city she could learn to love, but at the very least, she had learned to enjoy it. It was no longer a foreign land, but a second home and Rhaenys had helped a lot with that. She had given her all that she had promised; a friend and a family.

To her surprise, even Visenya had grown fond of her, however much she didn't want to admit it. She no longer glared at her or spat out comments about the North and their habits. In a way that wouldn't exactly mean that she liked her, rather that she tolerated her but Lyarra didn't hope for anything more, that was the most she would ever get from Visenya.

Lyarra nodded at the girl who was standing next to the doors and in return she smiled and pushed them open for her. Rhaenys was looking at herself in the mirror, trying a red dress with a low cut, leaving her breasts almost exposed. A while ago, Lyarra would have found the sight odd, but Lyarra was no longer the same person. She no longer believed that a woman's beauty should be hidden under heavy fabrics or sheltered until marriage, as the Northeners believed.

Lyarra could still remember the dress her mother had made for her 13th nameday, a beautiful deep green light dress, something that didn't fit with the Northener's style, but they were blessed with a rather warm weather and her mother had used that excuse to gift to her possibly the loveliest gown she had ever seen. She remembered how happy and beautiful and womanly she had felt when she had first tried it on, but all that joy quickly disappeared when she showed it to her brother, Elric, who had commanded her to take it off immediately and never wear something like that again.

"This is a gown for Southern whores, not for a Northern Princess." He had yelled at her, as he was dragging her back to her chambers.

After that, Lyarra never dared to ask for that gown again nor did she ever wonder what had become of it after that day. She accepted her brother's words without question and she had lived by them until now. Now, she had learned that whores did not wear such perfect gowns. Rhaenys could never be considered a whore, for she always wore them with pride and grace, as a Queen should. In many ways, Elric had all sort of distorted views and it was a breath of fresh air, to finally see the holes in them.

"Do you like it?" She asked her friend playfully once she noticed her presence. "It's probably like the millionth red gown I own, but I couldn't resist."

"Red looks good on you." Lyarra replied and it was the truth. Lyarra was convinced that no other woman could ever wear red like Rhaenys. It gave her a sense of power and lust and desire and passion and all hightened feelings. She was like a dragon in human flesh, a perfect match to the cream colour of Meraxes.

"I also had a purple one made. It's a little more modest than this one." She nodded at her handmaiden who picked a violet coloured gown from the bed.