#likewise arianne's only recently heard from her mother

[leupagus]

A War of Seasons, Chapter 9: Arianne

Title: A War of Seasons Author: leupagus Fandom: Game of Thrones Chapter: 9 of 24 Wordcount: 55,082 Rating: M Warnings: Author Chooses Not To Warn Tags: Canon Divergence AU (Season 6) Excerpt:

"Did you solve the Daynes' crisis, dearest petal?" Loras asked, when at last she returned to their rooms, trailed by two of House Dayne's guards and their shared burden. "Did you dazzle them with your brilliance and find a solution no one else could have possibly considered?" "In a way." She directed the men to set down the great chest in the darkest corner of the room. They did so and left with another bow, no doubt relieved to be rid of the thing. It was old and heavy and ugly, and she resisted the urge to kick it. Loras peered over the back of the sofa upon which he reclined. "Doesn't seem like much a reward," he observed. "It's not," she replied. It was the hour of the wolf; inasmuch as it could, the Red Keep was asleep. Yet Loras was awake in their shared chamber, one of his tiresome dissertations on fencing in his hand and a half-full glass of water-wine at his elbow, with an empty glass and a flagon beside it. "You didn't have to wait for me," she said, absurdly touched. He shrugged, placing a marker between the pages before shutting his book and setting it on the nearby table. "The bed was too cold without you," he said sardonically as he patted the seat beside him. "Now, tell me everything. Including why you've just broken your own mother's rule about bringing nothing into the home that is not beautiful." "You're incorrigible," she said, but sat all the same. It was strange, how familiar Loras had become to her in so short a time. The great Houses of Dorne and the Reach had despised each other for centuries, when the Lords of the Reach had been Gardeners and not Tyrells. Yet Arianne had found no trace of the family's animosity in Loras or Margaery (though their father and grandmother held more than their shares, and outrage besides that Loras had betrothed himself to a Martell without so much as seeking their blessing). She suspected Margaery's warmth to be calculated in part, which she did not begrudge; a Queen would need all the allies she could charm. But Loras seemed to hold a genuine affection for her, which she had never expected. Such affection could not be relied upon, of course; her own parents had once held affection for one another, but it had not overcome the pull of their conflicting needs and expectations. She and Loras would one day rule their own Houses and their own kingdoms. She could no more trust him than she could any other great lord. But for now she could confess, a little, of her own burden.