The streets of Kingslanding carried an aroma of shit and piss, and the occasional caterwaul met Lyon's ears from the city below. She stood atop the balcony of her new room, shrouded in vines and wafting an earthy scent upward. She retreated back into her room and closed the balcony doors, coming to sit upon the thick feather bed covered in a red and gold duvet. A knock came at her door and she rose, smoothing the blue dress she now donned, trim in gold.

"Come in." She called, and the door was opened by one of the Kingslanding guards, and Cersei stepped inside. "My queen," Lyon greeted with a deep and elegant curtsy.

"I've always liked this room. I told them it was to be yours." She said, coming to a table next to the door. The wine pitcher had already been touched, and a small smile pulled Cersei's lip.

"That is very kind of you, thank you."

"What is the matter, darling? I thought you said you were forward with your words? You skirt around the edges of what you wish to discuss, why?"

Lyon moved to the table and the pitcher, taking it and pouring two goblets of red wine. "I only hope that the incident with your son and my sister does not drive a wedge between us."

The Queen flippantly waved a hand. "Boys will be boys, my dear. Consider it past us." She received the wine as Lyon passed it to her.

"I only hope the prince thinks similarly." Lyon tipped her goblet past her lips, sighing at the rich taste. "I imagine he is none too impressed with me right now. I would like to speak with him, to try and remedy our relationship and start anew."

"Leave Joffrey to me. There is no need for him to keep petty grudges."

"Thank you, your grace."

Again, Cersei waved flippantly. "How are you liking Kingslanding?"

"Very much. I'm eager to explore the market, find gifts for my sisters and brothers back home."

"I'm sure they would like that." The queen said, sipping her wine until the goblet was empty. She set it on the table. "Do take an escort with you. The market can be a very dangerous place for a lady so fair."

Again, her hand came and lightly touched the hair that fell past Lyon's shoulder. She smiled, then Cersei bid her farewell and left, taking her soldiers with her. Lyon remained with her wine goblet in hand, downed the sweet nectar inside, and went from her room. The halls of the castle perplexed her, but it was not difficult to ask for directions. Soon she had gathered her coin and a basket and was heading toward the market.

Faces both clean and dirty swept past her, some staring and some quickly averting their gaze. She paid no mind to them, yet kept her wits about her as she made her way through the unfamiliar terrain. Exuberant colors jumped out at her as she walked past, and soon Lyon was striding along the stretch of the market selling trinkets and fruits. Exotic things. Voices from merchants came to her from their stalls, and she found a jewelry salesman beckoning her forth. Lyon stopped in front of the stall, looking the man in the eye before inspecting the glass cases of necklaces and rings.

"Exotic wares from across the narrow sea. From Pentos to Qarth, my lady." He said, a flirtatious smile hidden behind a black beard. Lyon leaned over and examined the exquisite necklaces.

"That is very far and exotic indeed. Have you been to these places yourself?"

"Yes, my lady. Often. I must if I am to find the best prices for trading and the finest wares." He said. "Ah, but for you, I may have something to suit your beauty, hmm? Such a lovely face, like the long summer."

"How kind of you." Lyon mused with a quirked lip, watching as the merchant ducked under his stall and began to rummage through cases. He withdrew a small case and flipped it open before her, revealing the golden necklace within. A golden flower chain carried on for the length of a collar, each flower a pristine white pearl and cussed by golden leaves.

"It is very beautiful." Lyon eyed the piece appreciatively. She imagined Sansa would love it very much. "How much are you asking?"

"An expensive gift. Ten gold dragons, my lady."

"I see. Expensive indeed. I doubt any of these passing men and women have that in their pockets. I will give you six." Lyon said, leaning over the stall.

"That's barely above half of what I ask. You do not mean to swindle me out of my goods, do you?"

"That depends on whether you mean to swindle me out of my coin." She countered, and the merchant's eyes gleamed.

"Eight."

"Seven."

"Done." He closed the case that held the necklace and Lyon grabbed the coins, dropping them in his hands and he gave her the case. She tucked it under the blankets in her basket. Lyon went to walk away when a hand clasped around her shoulder, and she was spun forcefully.

"It is you..." a blonde woman marveled, staring into Lyon's eyes. What had been happiness suddenly became fear. "You should not have come. They will try to kill you. Come with me!"

The woman grabbed Lyon's hand and pulled her through the crowd, hauling her forcefully past citizens on the streets.

"What are you talking about?" Lyon tried to pry herself from her grip. "Who are you?"

"Hush, child! Not here, we will speak where there are no ears." She hissed, ducking down an alley with little to no people. The woman went further still, until she went to the door of a small abode, unlocked the door, and ushered Lyon inside.

"I'm here, what is it you want?" Lyon backed away from the woman, her hand ready to make for the blade hidden inside her boot.

"My darling girl..." The woman turned, back to the door. She smiled slowly, softly.

"Who are you?" Lyon lifted her dress, grabbed the hilt and pulled out the blade.

"I am Alora. You are Lord Eddard Stark's eldest born? Lady Lyon?"

"Yes." Lyon adjusted her grip on the dagger, even as Alora nonchalantly walked around the room, looking Lyon from head to toe.

Alora put her hands to her face. Her eyes were suddenly wet. "You look just like your father, Lyon."

Lyon blinked. "Lord Eddard Stark is my father."

Alora shook her head. "It is good that Lord and Lady Stark kept their promises, but you are not their daughter. Not in blood."

"If I'm not their daughter, then whose am I?"

"Mine." She said with a smile.

- - -

Lyon burst into her father's room, not a knock nor warning. She slammed it shut, and her father sat at his desk, staring up at her.

"During the rebellion, a woman named Alora Pyre came to you with her child in her arms. The city was being sacked, children were being taken from their homes and slain by Robert Baratheon's men. Every child with Targaryen traits, but Alora Pyre saw you. And she told you to take care of her child. And you did."

Ned rose from his chair. "Who told you this?"

"Alora Pyre." Lyon could feel her eyes sting, but she shook her head and rid herself of them. "Is it true?"

"Yes." Ned said with a frown. "You... you met her?"

"She recognized me in the market as Lady Lyon, as your daughter. She knew who I was."

"Are you alright?" He stepped forward, unsure of the proper action.

"I have learned something rather life-altering. I do not know if I'll be alright." She stepped past her father. She scoured the room with her eyes, but she did not see any wine.

"I can only imagine how you must feel, Lyon. Meeting your mother-"

"Knowing who my mother is not what has upset me." Lyon sat on her father's desk and folded her arms across her chest. "It was learning who my father was."

Ned went still, peering at her from the sides of his eyes. "Who is he?"

"Was. He's very dead now." She said. "And... it's best if you do not know. It's best if I forget. I just wanted you to know that I know now. Everything can be forgotten... Is there really no wine in your room?"

"If you keep drinking as you do you'll end up with a belly like your king."

Lyon raised an eyebrow. "Best keep your voice down, those are fighting words. How was the Small Council?" At this, her father sighed.

"Exhausting. Did you know that Robert is six million gold in debt? All because of these parties and tournaments the King wants to host. And now he wants to host another."

"So he can eat, drink, and- well, you know." She shrugged and adjusted her bottom on the desk. "Are you sure you should be telling me this?"

"If I can't trust you then I can trust no one. In some ways, you've been more of my advisor than a daughter."

"If I had thinner skin that would have insulted me. But you're right. Try as I might've, I could never simply stand by."

"Hmm." He agreed. "You always were a twitchy child."

"Oh, shut up." She reached forward and playfully shoved her father. "That reminds me, I'm sorry I missed dinner."

Ned waved it off. "You didn't miss much. Arya and Sansa still aren't getting along."

"They'll grow out of it eventually. They're simply two sides of the same coin. Different, but the same."

"Well put. Now if only they'd listen." Lyon nodded in agreement, then rose.

"I's best be off. I have a gift for Sansa that I bought for her in the market today. I want to catch her before she goes to sleep."

"Of course. Goodnight, Lyon."

"Goodnight, Ned." She pushed herself off the desk and went for the door, closing it behind her as she made her way to her sister's room.