Baesenya Part 1

Baelin Lannister wouldn't say he hated his aunt Margaery, but he did find her quite tiresome sometimes, especially her most recent vendetta against House Velaryon for apparently no greater crime than marrying into some of the most prestigious families in Westeros. She'd had some particular grudge against the young princess of Dorne. It was a wonder to him, then, that she had chosen to invite Lord Velaryon and all his children and their spouses to his sixteenth birthday celebration. And that she had to keep talking about them being there.

The sad thing was that it was hard to disappear when you were the guest of honor at a celebration. He had managed to slip away from his aunt – in no small part with the help of his father – and was now pretending to be quite busy looking for something behind one of the large bushes in the gardens. It was better than admitting he was hiding from his own aunt and the seemingly endless brood of Velaryons she was fighting.

He was congratulating himself on finding a good spot to avoid the crush of people who would be asking him what he was doing so far from the center table, when he heard a woman's raised voice, "Visenya! I thought I saw her heading this way. Visenya!"

A man's voice answered, "Your father and Princess Silya are right, my love. She's old enough now to do things on her own. She's the same age Lady Jasmyne was when she got married."

He looked left and right, looking for an avenue of escape, and took one step backwards. He felt the impact against his foot right before he heard the yelp that told him he'd just tripped someone. Whirling around, the young Lannister quickly helped steady the young lady who had managed to grab a branch of another bush to stop herself from falling. "I'm so sorry!" He said hastily, "Please excuse me, I wasn't looking where I was going."

The girl brushed herself off, and that was when he got a good look at her. The first thing he saw was long, brown hair and a silvery purple dress. There was something odd about her hair, though, it seemed to have a strange silvery sheen to it, not unlike her dress. She was almost a head shorter than him, and when she parted her hair to look up at him, he could see wide grey eyes framed with those strange silver-brown eyelashes. There was something weird about those eyes too, almost a hint of purple to them. She had soft features, and was clearly at least a couple years younger than him. "Oh, it's alright, I was in a bit of hurry, my-"

"Visenya!" The woman's voice caused the girl in front of him to jump. So her name was Visenya. Everything started to click into place. The Princess Silya Targaryen, the strange tinge to her hair and eyes, she must be a distant relative to the Targaryens.

"Excuse me, my Lord." She said in hushed tones.

She made to push past him, but he hissed back, "Wait!" She stopped and looked at him. "I know this place better than anyone. I'm kind of hiding, too. I'll help you. Follow me."

He started down one of the twisted garden paths and after a moment's hesitation, she followed. A few moments later, the two of them had burst out of the garden and had slipped into a servant's entrance into the castle.

"Lord Baelin!" One of the servant's objected.

"Shush." He said, harshly, before whispering conspiratorially. "We're hiding from Aunt Margaery. She's been eyeing this young lady as a match for Radwin."

Both he and his new friend were flashed a sympathetic look and an understanding, "Ahhh…"

"Radwin?" The young lady asked him, curiously, when they'd gotten out of earshot of the servant.

The expression was rather cute, he found himself thinking. Baelin grinned. "My cousin. Aunt Margaery has been having some trouble finding him a wife, with the rumors that he likes women to hit him."

Her face scrunched up in an expression of both confusion and slight disgust. "Is that true?"

Baelin thought about it. "I don't know, but it's certainly true he's let Aunt Margaery control most of his life. Anyone would turn out a little strange with her always around."

She giggled, and he again found himself thinking her precious. "Is your Aunt Margaery really so terrible, my Lord Baelin?"

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "She cares for all her family, but she is sometimes a bit trying with her fussing, and her little feuds. And her latest thing with these Velaryons." He caught sight of her face, then. She looked a bit surprised and somehow affronted, and he realized he was being a bit of a gossip. "Excuse me. I spoke too much. Please forget what I've said."

She blinked those silver-brown lashes at him, again looking surprised, and shook her head, "No, I would prefer you be easy, my Lord. I was just-" She stopped herself, though he wasn't sure why, "I had thought this unhappy sentiment about the Velaryons was shared by all the Lannisters."

"Ah." He said, with a little grimace. "Father backs her up, because he is a bit concerned about the power House Velaryon has gained in the last decade, but in truth, it is my aunt who most opposes them. I've never met them myself, so she may perhaps be right, but I don't see they've done anything so very wrong. It is said all of their most powerful alliances have been love matches." He smiled a little, "I should hope to be as lucky."

She put a hand on his arm, sympathetically. "So would I." Then she came back to herself, it seemed. "Oh!" She said, taking a step back and giving him a bow. "I apologize. I have yet to congratulate you on your birthday. I have enjoyed meeting you, but I'm afraid there will be some talk if we're discovered to have spent much time alone."

"Wait!" He said again, "We've never been formally introduced. I can see you already know I'm the Lord Baelin Lannister. Am I correct in assuming I am speaking to a Lady Visenya Targaryen?" He asked, politely.

She coughed slightly. "Yes, I see you overheard my… relative calling for me. I really must go now, my Lord."

He frowned at her. She was acting a bit nervous, all of a sudden, and he found he did not like this change. The girl picked up her skirts and began hastening down the hall. "Please." He found himself saying, "May I see you again? That is, will you be at the feast tonight?"

"No!" She said, more vehemently than he had expected. "Well, I may be at the feast tonight, but my sister is not feeling well, so I may be attending to her, instead." She flashed him a shy little smile, and was gone.

Baelin found himself looking for her all the same that night, but she was nowhere to be seen.