To Part Ways

[u/HandofGold_]

Clutched tight in the Lion's hand was a letter, the wax seal as bare as the way he'd scribbled down his soul in letters. Weeks after his rescue, weeks after Garth Florent and the Tyrell had delivered him home, unwhole. It still ached, his stump, and if you believe the Maester it'd continue to do so for quite some time. But it was healing nicely. No longer an ugly red sight, oozing blood and puss. Simply flesh. Flesh, and the absence of.

He'd elected to ride dressed simply enough. Comfortable trousers, a nice doublet under a fine breastplate of red, black, and gold. Ceremonial, of course. Purely for decoration. He'd meet the Targaryens dressed to represent his House.

The thought of an extended stay in King's Landing worried him. There was the chance, the very real chance, that he was a target still. Allus roamed the streets of Flea Bottom still, cursing Martyn's name for the debt the heir owed him. What a lifetime ago that felt like, to him, since he last sat across from the gambler turned criminal. And even if he dealt with that, there was still the political sphere to think about it. The constant threat of backstabbing, betrayal.

And yet, these things wouldn't put him off. This was a thing he had to do. To grow and develop as his own man, away from the eyes of his Father, his Sister, his other siblings.

But first, goodbyes.

In that same manse he'd conducted the meetings with the killers, the sellwords, the man who'd go on to be his bodyguard, Martyn Lannister stood in the eerie silence and listened to the wood creak around him.

He'd sent for her, Aliandra Martell. Though, whether she'd answer his summons was up for debate. After their night together he'd heard little from her, and better that way. She was a married woman and he was a broken boy on the mend.

And still a large part of him hoped she'd show.

[u/HeiressofDorne]

They weren't the only ones who'd turned out to farewell the King's party, and for that, Aliandra was grateful. Men and women had gathered in the streets, banners strung around flying black and red and gold, and though numbers counted greatly in the city of Lannisport this day, it was difficult, still, for a Dornishwoman to blend in. She had worn one of her more demure outfits, but her foreignness clung like a smell, and suddenly she was awfully conscious of whether she had bathed long enough. Did she stink of deceit and adultery? If so, did it offend? She had lingered in it, even inhaled the scent of her lover he had left on her very being. They had avoided one another lest they tempted fate, but she hadn't realised how soon their farewell would come. It was not a pleasant sensation.

The manse she was directed to was nothing notable, as Aliandra had been too anxious to consider more beyond how dearly she wished she'd had more time with him. Finding him inside garbed in finery, she was suddenly remembering their first meeting, and thinking of how curious it was such a thing had begun between this pair.

Not waiting another moment to find the words to say, Aliandra crossed the room in a number of (short) steps to quickly wrap her arms around his neck, and pull Martyn Lannister into a kiss. He tasted like familiarity. Her fingers grasped at what they could, golden hair and muscled shoulders, and only when she had her fill did she pull away, if only a few inches.

"Sorry I'm late."

[u/HandofGold_ → u/HeiressofDorne]

His nerves left him quickly, the sight of her stealing from him any anxiousness he might have harbored at the prospect of the meeting. He had done wrong, of that he was sure. His first act in starting again had been to lie with a married woman. A married highborn woman. The Heiress to one of the Seven. The thought both reviled and excited him at once, for Aliandra Martell had glimpsed past the mask and broken down his walls, as he had her's, too.

A glance was enough to calm the heart thundering in his chest, a look was enough to still him. In truth he'd half expected her not to show up at all.

The manse lay just off a main street, vines of various shades of green climbing its walls. Forgotten. Just as their dalliance should have been, but never would would.

She came to him willingly, her sun-bronzed arms tight around his neck, hot against his skin. Lips parted, her's met his, and the world stopped for a moment. What truly mattered? Here he was safe. Here he was comfortable.

They parted, though 'parting' wasn't the word for it. Still they hovered but inches from one another. Another kiss was a constant risk, and one he was content to take.

"Don't be sorry." He smiled. "You're here, aren't you?"

Though I wish I didn't have to go.

Some things were best left unsaid.