ㅤㅤㅤin the eyrie, the young falcon was forced to be a silent observer. he watched as lords and ladies gathered in the castle, greedily surrounding the throne room, whispering to one another the events of the previous night back in the king's landing. he watched as the boy's frail body quivered and clung to his mother's breast. how the boy grasped her frail shoulders with his hands and tugged her red curls carelessly. and how his widowed mother's eyes moved around the room nervously.

ㅤㅤㅤ"widowed". that sounded nice. he tried to taste the word on his lips, quietly whispering it to himself to understand what comes next.

ㅤㅤㅤonly a few years ago, harrold hardying was the son of a deceased landed knight and the youngest daughter of the then lord of the vale. a boy, taken away from his home and his family, sent into the service of the late lady waynwood. funny enough, she was also recently widowed. during those times he was a boy, who had nothing, but a distant name behind him. he grew up with lady's sons as friends, as brothers. yet he was always beneath them. the eldest became a knight at the age of sixteen. and he became his squire.

ㅤㅤㅤminutes ago he was a distant relative of the late Lord Jon Arryn of the Eyrie, who had no claim to any part of the land, being the offspring of a woman, who had lost her family name after marrying his father.

ㅤㅤㅤseconds ago he had no chance of inheriting anything that he would not have reached out his hands to. but not now. lord arryn, a beloved hand of the king, lord of the eyrie, defender of the vale, warden of the east... titles, titles, titles... was dead. even saying it in his head seemed like a crime, yet the feeling was so sweet. at this moment the only heir left to the late lord was a sickly, pale, weak, spoiled boy, whimpering on the throne and his cousin -- a young squire, strong enough to face an adult knight. two years ago he willingly renounce the title. that was something, that the boy dreamt about. but the man wanted lands, power, something he could name his own. something, that the knightly vows would not get him. but he waited. and now he was closer to it than ever before.

ㅤㅤㅤhe noticed the fixed gazes of a group of young girls on himself. they were whispering to each other and their cheeks were flushed red. he turned his head in their direction and smiled, which made them look away embarrassed. they never looked at him, their glazes always went right through him. he wasn't a person, he wasn't even a man. only an image, an existing fantasy of brave knights and beautiful ladies. oh, harrold hardying was not a man of honor. he was a man of ambition. born in a rich house. surrounded by servants, growing up with this yet unknown feeling of control over those beneath him. the day he was forced to leave his home this feeling also left. he tried to gain control back: he fucked servant girls, he fucked noble ladies; he fought peasant boys and full grown knights, he always won; yet the feeling never came back. he was the one beneath.

ㅤㅤㅤpretending to shield his face from the sunlight, streaming in through the tall windows of the castle, he reached out to the towering throne, where his cousin sat with his mother.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤso close for the taking.

ㅤㅤㅤhe wanted to walk away right now. come back home. there was only one person that he wanted to share those news with. and he wanted to go back to her. Harrold said goodbye to the familiar faces and headed for the door, but on the way, he felt a gentle touch on his shoulder. it was a maester, holding out a letter to him.

ㅤㅤㅤ– a raven that came with those tragic news brought something more. i thought of giving it to ser waynwood, but i couldn't find him. – the paper in his hand felt rich and delicate. from king's landing. with a familiar name on it – please bring it to aleyna as soon as you can, i believe that the knights will leave for her tomorrow morning.

ㅤㅤㅤaleyna. he never needed to say her name out loud, harrold could recognize it only by the movements of his lips. "i need to return home right now" -- a single sentence echoed in his head as he spoke words of thanks to the maester and mounted his horse. harrold felt as if he were caught in a storm - a powerful, incredible collision of the elements. he felt both relief and anxiety. the journey home took his strength and several days of travel, but it could not lessen his excitement. it's yet early in the morning and rain just started. "strange for this time of the year" – harrold thought. he tied his horse not far from the house near the river. i stood on a way to ironoaks castle, where he was headed, and belonged to an old common-born woman, who earlier in life made her living selling jewelry. but he wasn't there for her. someone else was waiting for him at the house.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ*     *    *

ㅤㅤㅤaleyna stone hears quiet steps inside the house, cold raindrops fall heavily from the stranger's clothes, blending in with the accompaniment of nature. aleyna stood in front of the mirror, studying her features as if she hoped to find something new in her own face. she ran her fingertips over her jaw, her neck, then her collarbones, closely observing her body's recitation.

ㅤㅤㅤ– i missed you – a familiar voice speaks as the door to her room opens. he did not move, shamelessly viewing her body that was visible through the thin fabric of her nightwear. a young maiden would usually run towards her bed and find something to cover herself with, but a woman standing in front of him just turned her head and looked at him. under the fading light his face reminded her of statues that she saw in the eyrie. there were men and women whose perfect facial features were embodied in stone, recognized as the apogee of beauty.

ㅤㅤㅤ– i thought you would be there longer. and after that, you were supposed to return to ironoaks castle, not here. – she spoke quietly and calmly, without even turning to face him – you know that my mistress would hate to see you here after she forbid it.

ㅤㅤㅤ– and you know that i hate that old hag as much as she hates me.

ㅤㅤㅤ– your hatred comes without a price. I could lose everything I have, including the roof over my head.

ㅤㅤㅤ– you know that you can always live with me in ironoaks castle. not serve as a lackey to a peasant.

ㅤㅤㅤ– and who would i serve there? you?

ㅤㅤㅤ– nothing's wrong with that. – he stepped away and turned her body toward him. he reached out and took her hand in his, putting the letter into it. aleyna looked surprised only for a second, immediately turning back to the letter - something came for you. from the capital. I thought you wouldn't mind if I'd read it first.

ㅤㅤㅤshe kept reading the same words over and over again, hoping they would change. harrold smiled wickedly, watching her face as her emotions changed.

ㅤㅤㅤ– i don't understand. why would father want me to be in king's landing all of a sudden? he always hated the place, called it a pile of shit and piss. and why only me? no mentions of elys?

ㅤㅤㅤher body moved again, as she lowered her arms. her back was turned to him again, but this time he could see her face in the reflection of the mirror. dimples of a smile appeared on his face. he was amused to watch her reaction, but he was also disappointed by this "reunion". all her attention was focused on this letter, while he had to stand behind. he had said goodbye to her almost two months ago and now that she was finally in front of him his whole body was clenched with the desire to touch her. his palms traced a line from the bottom of her belly up her body, he could have sworn that his fingers counted her ribs. grabbing the girl by the waist, pulling her closer to him, placing his chin on her shoulder, inhaling the scent of her hair, and whispering words in her ear:

ㅤㅤㅤ– john arryn is dead. that's the news that arrived from the capital and i am so sorry. i know he was like a father to you.

ㅤㅤㅤshe only nodded and closed her eyes for a moment. her mouth went dry, her heart started pounding in her ribcage, she could feel the blood coursing through her veins. he smirked; she licked her lips nervously. he repeated her motion, aleyna suddenly opened her eyes again and stared right at him through the mirror. 

ㅤㅤㅤ– it's all clearer now. it means that the question of my legitimacy will be brought up – she smiled at the corners of her lips. no one would have noticed that little gesture, but not harold. he stared obsessively into her every dirge. his hands trembled as if burned and let her go - I don't know why my father would want this, but I see no other reason to take me all the way to king's landing. unless...

ㅤㅤㅤhe knew what she was hinting on. she took a few steps back and he forward, corralling her in the corner of the room. yet she wasn't scared at all. he saw it in a way she moved. there was always something so captivating about it. harrold remembered the moment he first saw her. he was only a young boy, but something was in the way she walked. he only saw it only with wild beasts, that were born to hunt; but in his mind, she was born to love. her precise, beautiful movements, even as she moved away from him, had to be mired in his tenderness.

ㅤㅤㅤ– unless there is a marriage option for you. a unique one, that would solve all of your current issues? am i right?

ㅤㅤㅤthe truth is, aleyna never wanted to get married. she liked her solitude: it was peaceful... it was safe. she found comfort in her daily routines and she knew for a fact that a man would ruin this harmony. they always do. she also knew that harold would never marry her. he was every young lady's dream, his wife would be the envy of every highborn maiden in the vale, as well as a few from the riverlands and the reach. he wanted to gain power and land through marriage. and she was a whore's daughter with no real name or inheritance.

ㅤㅤㅤ– yes. yes, you are.

ㅤㅤㅤnow he could clearly see her smiling. even after losing her shield in the face of Lord Arryn, she could still somehow turn the situation in her favor. aleyna had always done that. back when she was a dirty little girl, throwing herself at everyone like a wild animal. back then all he wanted to do was to make this beast smile. now he wanted to wipe that smile off her face. in one motion he pushed her into the wall, clutching her neck.

ㅤㅤㅤ– you like that, don't you?. – she said, laughing, trying to get as much air into her lungs as she could. he lowered his grip slightly so that she could finish – i'm not even sure what is this on your face: jealousy or envy?

ㅤㅤㅤ– you can't replace me and you know it, aleyna. i'm the only one who knows you. and your body.

ㅤㅤㅤharrold wanted only her. he moved closer to her, kneeing her legs apart. he felt lust and sudden pain. harrold pulled away sharply, grasping onto his bleeding palm. "fucking cunt." aleyna playfully planted the kitchen knife in her hands. the cut wasn't too deep, but it would leave a scar.

ㅤㅤㅤ– my two fingers can replace you. – as she said this, she stepped forward, living him behind her – i will not allow your petty shit ruin my life or take away my grief. you can celebrate your rising back in your castle. im going to hunt.

ㅤㅤㅤ– it's raining there. and the knights of the vale will take you tomorrow morning.

ㅤㅤㅤ– then they will do it the next morning. i'm going to hunt and then ill ride to see my brother. hopefully, you'll be there too. or lady waynwood will suspect something.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤshe left him alone in this dark room.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ* * *

ㅤㅤㅤaleyna learned how to hunt from her father the first time she ever saw him. she was eleven and then he visited the valley for the first time in the year she had spent here as his bastard. he seemed to her like a giant, so much so that his body towered over her. yet he was gentle. he tried to parent her, his firstborn, but it quickly bored by it. so he went for it differently. king robert took that little child to a hunt with him and other different lords and ladies.

ㅤㅤㅤaleyna learned how to kill properly from her father. the first time an animal died at her hands was on her thirteenth name day. she plunged her blade into an already-caught beast and people around her called it hunting. this wasn't a hunt. the feeling was different. something that she had experienced long before that.

 ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤfunny. the first man she ever called a father taught her how to kill.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤand her real father taught her what comes after that.

ㅤㅤㅤshe loved to hunt. she loved the feeling that came with it. a harmony of some sort. she loved hearing the forest – the chirping of birds, the whistling of the wind, the slight rustling of grass, and, most importantly, the relative silence. she could wait hours for the perfect opportunity for a single shot. she drew the bowstring and fired an arrow. a perfect shot followed by death. the death of a bird, quite harmless and unremarkable. the killing was easy, but there was a new feeling coming after the death. it was a lingering and somewhat unpleasant feeling of... loss. not pain, not a pang of longing or grief, just loss.

ㅤㅤㅤnow that she was alone aleyna tried to proceed with the feeling that was left with her after john arryn death. yes, she loved death, plain and simple. but this same death took away the only person that saved her, who had shown her the way, helped her in everything, waiting for nothing in return. he took her from the horror she was in and brought her to where she was now. and now he was gone.

ㅤㅤㅤshe approached the spot where the dead bird had fallen. a small one, but enough for dinner tonight. aleyna bound its clawed paws and hauled it to the horse's saddle.

ㅤㅤㅤit was time to go. and to say goodbye. 

autors note: hope you all like the first chapters. i personally feel like it ended up being confusing fro both writing and the plot. so if you have any questions or notice mistakes in my texts - let me know! also all the comments would be soooo appreciated!