“We could run away…” he murmured against her hair, while she rested on his chest - his heartbeat thrumming like a lullaby. “Just you and me and the sun above us.” He hadn’t been used to the cold. Fire ran in his veins. If it was the red fire and the sun’s light, or black fire, she didn’t know. Even if she knew she would never say so. Without his name as a cloak, he would nothing. He would only be Aegon without a name. Ageon with his sword, and his adventurous smile. Aegon with his steel will of protection. Just Egg. As they were here. Egg and San. For the others she was Alyane, Alyane with the blue eyes, her dark hair, perfect for a blue and cream bride’s gown. For the others he was the Young Griff, a bastard without Connington’s name, dying his hair in blue. “Blue like my eyes” she had though in an evening, feeling once again like a silly little girl. Still a dangerous bastard. The stormlords had bowed their heads from his boldness and mind. Rumors had it Dorne was collecting it’s steel.
But here, in a small room with barely any furniture but a bed and a fire place they were far, far, far away from the world.
“By night Mother Rhonye would rock you into sleep.” Egg continued dreaming, while letting his fingers slipping through her strands. “Or you would do that to me.” she grinned, a spark in her eyes. Egg looked down, meeting her grin with on of his own. “Oh, wolves have no virtue”, he teased, bowing down for a kiss. “This is why their offspring is always so numerous.” she replied, trying to keep a straight face. Egg giggled, kissing her again and again. “Then so many chubby children would waddle on our deck!” he laughed “and your breasts would be round and full of milk.” “Not for you though! Only for the babies.” “Yeah, and the big ones I take to the land catch fish, many big fish on the shore, collecting mussels, and duck eggs’s-” “Rolly will feel deadly betrayed. ” “Rolly will be too busy changing diapers - Where was I? Ah, yes, fish... and little crabs. And the rest will play hide and seek in the wild lemon groves. When we call them to come home, they will pick up the overly ripes fruits. And every meal we will have the gifts of Mother Rhyone, fish with wild rosemary and lemon juice. And lemon cakes of course. And every night I would taste lemon cake from your lips.” They both giggled, feeling silly. Drunk from these beautiful dreams they preferred smiling over their own nativity instead of feeling sadness over this impossibility. Egg pulled Sansa closer in his arms while she almost melted into him, never wanting to leave this small haven again. “And then?” she asked silently. Again Egg brushed her hair with his fingers, his heartbeat slow and steady. “Your hair would remind me of autumn leaves… All of it not only the roots. You would see mine white like the snow of the North. A part of our home would always be with us. We would wear any colours we want, none meaning anything. We could call each other by our names, no last names, and all violence, all anger of out fathers would left far, far behind…”
They stayed silent, watching the flames keeping the winter’s cold from their bones while the winds howled around the tower. In the morning Sansa’s hair would be Alayne’s. So would Egg’s hair keep his name a secret, at least for so long. She would roll her eyes behind Harry’s back, and in the evening they would both laugh about him. Egg would wear Connington’s crest. When he would mount on his horse he would only not to Alyane stone. Bastard girls won’t be given a knight’s promise.
But for now Aegon and Sansa were allowed to dwell in dreams