CHAPTER ONE.
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What is honour compared to a woman's love?

GEORGE R. R. MARTIN,
A SONG OF ICE AND FIRE
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THE LETTER OF HER FRIEND arrives in the morrow. Elia Martell and she had grown up together like sisters and to this day she still loves her with all her heart, even from a distance. Even with the Summer Sea between them.

So when Astoria Lhazar receives a letter filled with words of pain and sorrow, she immediately orders her servants to pack her finest jewelry and richest silks, for she would sail to King's Landing the coming day. When she retires to her chambers that night, the paper still sits on her desk unfolded.

My dearest friend,

I pray that your life is as good as you deserve. That I haven't seen you in many moons makes me want to weep and the truth is that there is nothing I wish more than having a true friend in the dragon's pit. Ashara has left a fortnight ago and will return soon enough but then it will still only be me and her.

When I took Rhaegar's hand in marriage I was certain that it would mean days spent in bliss and joy. Yet my husband is rarely joyful and would rather not leave his chambers, buried in books or dreaming of tales I do not care for. Sometimes he whispers of unfulfilled prophecies but should I dare ask, he never answers.

While this life is not what I hoped for it has brought me my children. You would adore Aegon and Rhaenys very much, that I am sure of. It is selfish of me to ask for your company in the Keep and truthfully a part of me wishes that you stay where you are, with your family and out of danger. But the other part yearns for a friend to stroll around the gardens once more.

Whatever you decide, my heart stays the same and you will forever be my dearest friend.

Send your family my love,
Elia.

Elia had sent her a letter a moon or so ago with the news of what her husband had done to bury her pride. Back then the Dornish woman had still been pregnant with Aegon and yet Rhaegar had looked elsewhere to find his Queen of Love and Beauty. Astoria would never forgive him for that, though she knows that her friend will. Elia's heart is too good for the cruel world she had been born into and the royal marriage that had been chosen for her.

     The paper feels soft under her skin, yet the words on it make her sick to the stomach. Her anger rises within seconds and with long fingers she rips the letter apart, shred for shred it falls onto the ground beneath her. Dark wings, dark words, indeed.

WHEN THE SUN HAS RISEN the next day, Astoria is already on the ship that would sail to the Westerosi coast. Her dark locks are softly flying in the warm wind and the day is beautiful, with the sun shining down on her.

The Lhazar family is lined up at the end of the dock, solemn faces looking at her. She remembers her eldest brother Iain, how she had seen him leave on a similar ship and how he had never come back. Astoria had been a timid girl of one-and-ten back then and there was no one she had loved as much as him.

What she would do to see him again. To hear his voice. It's been so long that she can no longer remember the exact planes of his face. He is nothing more than a wispy memory that time has dulled, like sand eroding inch by inch from the line of a shore.

It makes her delicate heart break that now she is the one they will worry about, but how could she stay? She knows that they understand, truly, for they care for Elia just as much as she does and her friend's sorrow must be so much more terrible than theirs, being so very alone and neglected by her own husband. Those thoughts make her feel a certain kind of strength again.

     Her youngest brother Malrik is the first to say his farewell. When he wraps his tiny arms around her waist, she has to remind herself again on why she is leaving. His eyes are clenched shut and she knows that he is trying not to cry. "I love you, Mal, and I'll be back sooner than you think," Astoria tells him, even though that is a lie. But Malrik wouldn't mind. Truth is like light: it is blinding. Lies are a softer twilight that are much easier to face. "Then we can go swimming in the gardens once more and ride the horses in the mountains and —"

     "It's alright," he smiles sweetly and her heart swells.

     Her father's face is stony. Astoria knows that to him, seeing his children leave is a terrible burden to bear. "The dragon's pit is becoming more deadly by the day and the Westerosi lords are growing restless. Promise me to be careful," he warns her in a voice full of concern. Her family is an ancient ally of the Targaryens, and so her father had spent some of his early youth occasionally in their company. The impression he received was not favourable.

     As lords and ladies of Pentos they have been part of the Great Families of the city and ruled over it for centuries. Westerosi wars and enmeties are not something they themselves with. Yet, their loyalties would always lie with the Martells of Dorne, for they have been close for as long as she can remember.

     Her face is sad and lovely, with bright things in it, bright green eyes and a bright passionate mouth, but there is something in her voice that doesn't fit, that is hard. "I promise, father."

Lastly comes her mother, Alma, who takes her hand and kisses her lightly on the lips. She is beautiful, her mother. Petite but rounded and womanly, eyes dark and hair dark and skin a creamy brown, stained by the love of the sun. Her mother cups her face in small, soft palms and breathes, "Astoria, my sweetling. We have raised you well and there is no doubt in my heart that you shall face no problems at court. I pray for your journey to be a soft one. The sun of Pentos goes with you."

     With those sweet words swirling around in her mind she steps upon the ship, the silks of her light dress flowing around her legs. When Astoria looks at the shore once more, the ship is already at sea and she watches her family from afar, studying them as if seeing them for the last time, until she turns away at last, leaving her home behind.

She feels her hands shake.

WHEN KING'S LANDING FINALLY SLIDES into view atop its three hills, Astoria breathes out in relief. The winds had been kind and their journey lasted a mere fortnight.

     The city covers the shore as far as the Pentoshi can see; manses and arbors and granaries, brick storehouses and timbered inns and merchant's stalls, taverns and graveyards and brothels, all piled one on another. She can hear the clamor of the fish market even at this distance. Between the buildings are broad roads lined with trees, wandering crookback streets, and alleys so narrow that two men could not walk abreast. Visenya's hill is crowned by the Great Sept of Baelor with its seven crystal towers. Across the city on the hill of Rhaenys stand the blackened walls of the Dragonpit, its huge dome collapsing into ruin, its bronze doors closed not for a century. The Street of the Sisters runs between them, straight as an arrow and the city walls rise in the distance, high and strong.

     And above it all, frowning down from Aegon's high hill, is the Red Keep that Aegon the Conqueror had commanded it built, however, it had been his son Maegor the Cruel who had seen it completed. Afterward he had taken the heads of every stonemason, woodworker, and builder who had labored on it. Only the blood of the dragon would ever know the secrets of the forttress the Dragonlords had built, he vowed.

     Now the dragons rule the Seven Kingdoms still, but the whispers of the king's madness had even arrived in Pentos. That's why I am here, she reminds herself. To be a companion to Elia in these times of concern.

And although there is a whole sea between her and her family now, Elia is family, too.

It is then that she is able to spot the royal family, at least the part that has come to greet her. Rhaegar Targaryen looks like the perfect heir to the Iron Throne, incredibly handsome, Astoria cannot deny that. But she knows of what humiliation he is capable of and so she cannot look at him without the familiar feeling of burning anger. To his right stands her friend, with a little bundle in her arms. Elia is just as lovely as she had been two years ago when they had last seen each other. Rhaenys is the image of her mother with black curls and dark coal eyes and a smile as soft as silk.

     The way Elia's eyes brighten considerably when Astoria finally sets foot onto the foreign land makes her heart swell with joy and she graces her with a dazzling smile. Her husband reaches for the child in her arms and then Astoria is quick to greet her, throwing her arms around her neck. "Oh, how I have missed you," she tells the princess when pulling away, chuckling lightly when doing so. "I did not believe that this day would come so soon."

     "I am glad it did, truly." Her eyes flicker with something close to sadness as she turns to her children.

DARLING, DEAREST, DEAD. author's note.

sooo here it is. i'm not happy with it but oh well i just wanted to update tbh. astoria and elia are literally friendship goalssss and rhaegar is the asshat we know him to be,,, oh and english is NOT my first language so sorry for any mistakes