Elaena struggled to keep the scowl off her face as she sat at Cerelle's nameday table.

The bloody blonde had gotten her wish to choose the seating. And she'd used it to the best of her ability.

Cristine had been placed at her left side—a choice that had outwardly unnerved Ellyn. One look from Cerelle had ultimately forced the Baratheon girl into the next seat.

Hyaline had taken the next, then Saera, then Sam, and finally Elaena. With the way the table had been made, Elaena had been given the perfect view of Cerelle's position. A front row seat.

So her stomach knotted up when the royal family arrived, and Aemond was placed at the blonde's right side. Elaena didn't miss the coy smile from Cerelle—unabashed in acknowledging her lilac gaze—as the prince took his seat.

"Fix your face," Samantha whispered into her ear, and Elaena let out a breath she didn't know she was holding, "Don't give this bitch the satisfaction."

Easier said than done. Every time Elaena looked up from her supper plate, she was forced to see the couple—

Ugh, Gods, a couple?! Ew—Calm down. I cannot believe this condescending little—This fucking trick—Elaena! Relax, listen to Sam!

She swallowed tightly, trailing her gaze to Aemond in irritation. At the sight of his turned head and focused gaze on Cerelle, her heart picked up speed.

Why is he looking at her—Fuck, stop.

She's talking to him, he's only listening—Why is he listening so hard?! He's so focused, is she actually intriguing, does he actually—

. . . Wait. . .

Why is he listening so hard?

Elaena squinted at his tense posture... and then she felt her irritation boil into something fiercer. Because Aemond was making an effort to look at the lady beside him.

Because Cerelle had chosen to sit on his left side. Each time she whispered sweetly into his ear, he had to turn tightly to peer past his eyepatch.

Oh... my Gods...

Elaena felt her gaze tighten on Cerelle, too bewildered to heed Samantha's advice. The blonde carried on in her low chatter with the prince, completely ignorant of his efforts—

How fucking imbecilic can anyone be?! Gods, can I stand this for the hour? I need to go, I need to leave...

Or snatch this bitch by those intricate plats and drag her—Calm down. You need to calm down.

She fisted her pearly violet skirts, clenching her teeth and quickly shifting her attention to the other members of Aemond's family.

Helaena approached the seat beside his, but when her violet gaze drifted along the table and locked with Elaena's lilacs, her expression faltered in confusion.

Her walking seized, and then her eyes softened as she moved to the Velaryon girl's side of the table. Elaena's heart warmed as Helaena took to the seat beside hers.

"Wouldn't be very fun with you so far away." The princess whispered, and Elaena's lip curled as she grasped her friend's hand happily.

She looked back to see Queen Alicent gazing after Helaena in apprehension. Elaena's heart stuttered as the woman locked eyes with her, her lips tightening in a certain resolve before she took the seat beside Aemond.

The Queen... oh my, the Queen...

Elaena was happy for the comfort of Helaena's presence as she fully registered the weight of Alicent's. She couldn't help but wonder what the Queen had thought as they'd acknowledged one another.

The last time the two of them had shared an intimate space had been when the woman had called on Vaemond and Elaena to leave King's Landing...

Breathe. Relax. Breathe...

Alicent sent a polite nod to Cerelle before letting her gaze rest on the lavish spread of the table. Her expression was reserved, relaxed even, but it only added to Elaena's unease.

Keep calm. Don't make yourself known, just stay at your end...

She pulled her gaze away from the Queen to watch the rest of the table fill up. Ser Otto sat beside Alicent, his natural scowl drifting along the extravagant table. Ser Criston kept his position at the corner of the room, eyeing the Queen in high alert.

Ser Tyland and a few other blonde nobles took to the remaining seats... But one was left empty.

Elaena looked back to the room's entrance, expecting the final guest to arrive and sit beside Helaena, but no one else came.

"Who's that last seat for, I wonder?" She whispered curiously to the princess, and Helaena gazed at the empty cushion softly.

"Aegon," She whispered back, "Doubtful he'd show up for such a trivial affair."

Her tone was light, jesting even. That new glimmer danced in her eye, and Elaena's heart stuttered as the princess chuckled to herself, not at all tense by the thought of her husband...

She was humored by him. Elaena's eyebrows furrowed at the realization.

What was happening between the two of them? What had Aegon done to evoke such lightheartedness in Helaena—

"Everyone." Her attention was snatched away as Ser Tyland stood from his seat, "I'd like to thank you all for attending such a darling event... My niece has been quite excited for this day."

Cerelle beamed at her uncle as the table joined in soft applause. Elaena clapped along halfheartedly, and she drifted her gaze to peak at Aemond.

Her heart fluttered when she met his eye, and she noticed he did not join in the ovation. He held her gaze—he always did—and she felt her mood brighten at his acknowledgement.

Tyland went on to speak of his pride in Cerelle, her devotion to their house, her beauty and grace... and all the while Aemond looked at Elaena.

It was then she realized how easy it was for him to see her compared to the nameday girl, and she felt her lip quirk in humor.

Cerelle couldn't even tell Aemond's point of view because of his eyepatch, and Elaena took a deep breath to stifle a chuckle. The blonde's choice in seating was quite interesting indeed.

Aemond responded to her threatening smirk with one of his own, and Elaena squinted at him curiously. What was he thinking? Was she imagining the hint of mischief in his smile?

Why was it feeding mischief of her own?

His eye brightened playfully, just as it had in the Red Keep's kitchens. She could tell he paid half a mind to the ramblings of Tyland; his gaze remained on her but his expression subtly reacted to the man's words.

When Tyland spoke to Cerelle's "profound intellect," Aemond nipped at his bottom lip and flared his nose slightly. Elaena saw how his nose dipped into his threatening smile, and she pursed her lips to keep from laughing at his restraint.

He's going to get you in trouble, stop looking at him.

She flitted her gaze away, marveling at how her mood lightened so quickly on account of the prince's attention. It wasn't the tense acknowledgement she'd felt when she'd been new to his rough exterior.

Now he spoke to her without words, in a silent understanding she recalled from when they'd been children.

"I wish you every happiness on this day, sweetling," Tyland went on, nodding sweetly to Cerelle, "As does the whole of House Lannister, those here and those at Casterly Rock."

Everyone rose their goblets to toast the end of his speech, and Elaena looked back to see Aemond eyeing her past the rim of his cup.

She let out a soft snort as she lowered her goblet, feeling strangely jovial from his stare. It dawned on her with his answering smirk that he was testing her composure, making a quiet game out of it.

But she looked at him in stubborn control, refusing to break face at the table... At least no more than she'd already done.

She raised an eyebrow in challenge, and he pursed his lips slightly and squinted at her resolve. Her heart stuttered in response, and she ultimately looked away to save face...

And then she was met with Cerelle's sharp eyes.

The Lannister girl subtly looked between Elaena and Aemond, and a scowl grew on to her face. Elaena's heart stuttered again as her expression faltered, and she averted her eyes to her supper platter.

"Uncle," Cerelle called out, gaining the table's attention while her gaze remained on Elaena's slumped form, "I must say, I've tired of this wine selection, might we bring out the new shipment?"

Elaena met Cerelle's gaze again, her eyebrows furrowing at the lady's pointed stare.

Tyland blinked in surprise, "If you wish it, my dear, though I expected to have it served with the main course—"

"I want it now." She said tightly, finally tearing her gaze away from Elaena to look at her uncle sweetly.

"... Very well." Tyland hesitantly said, snapping to the posted servants and whispering orders to them.

Samantha sighed to herself, snacking on her cheese and meat platter with pursed lips. She locked eyes with Saera's anxious gaze, and the two of them looked between Cerelle and Elaena.

The Velaryon girl fiddled with her fingers under the table as a tension settled over the room. Cristine seemed well at home beside Cerelle, and Ellyn and Hyaline sat straightly and expectant, almost as smug as the nameday girl.

Elaena knew something was about to happen long before the servants returned with new wine barrels, but she couldn't keep her shock at bay from the sight of them.

They were branded with the Dornish sigil.

Elaena looked to Aemond immediately, feeling her heart drop as he took in the sight of the new wine with a blank stare.

"Dornish red, from Yronwood," Tyland announced, "The Lady Cerelle wished for a special red outside of our supply."

. . . A new shipment of Dornish red... ordered by a council member—Oh, no...

Aemond met Elaena's gaze, and by the sight of his stiff expression, she knew her building horror was not one-sided.

This dumbass had her uncle order the worst wine known to man—

"I heard tale that a certain prince loved Dornish reds," Cerelle said cheerily to Aemond, "Is that true, your Grace?"

He clenched his jaw, upholding his typical pursed expression as he lowered his gaze. Elaena heard him hum to Cerelle, and the lady cheesed at his stoic figure.

"How very thoughtful, Lady Cerelle." Alicent nodded, and Elaena felt an itch up her spine as Cerelle giggled bashfully.

Aemond's gaze flickered up to meet Alicent's, a glint of annoyance burning behind his blank composure, but the Queen kept a pleasant expression on her face, looking back at her son in tight encouragement.

Elaena grimaced at the sound of Cerelle's snicker, knowing she was completely ignorant to the prince's discomfort. She grimaced further as their goblets were filled with the new Dornish red, and she looked at Aemond until he finally looked back at her.

Elaena swallowed stiffly before clenching her teeth and looking at him in false optimism. He blinked at her sardonically, and she tilted her head at him.

Maybe it won't be as bad as it was last night? Maybe it just needed to age, to breathe a little bit...? Maybe??

She hoped her expression spoke to her thoughts well enough, but he blinked at her incredulously all the same.

"To the lady of the hour," Tyland announced in pride, lifting his goblet and inviting everyone to do the same, "Happy Nameday, darling."

Elaena's heart stuttered in trepidation as the table nodded to Cerelle, whispering proud wishes before bringing their cups to their lips.

She held Aemond's gaze, a nervous smile etching on to her lips as she reached for her goblet. His nose flared around a quick breath, but he followed her lead and grabbed his own cup.

They peered at one another past the rims, waiting for the other to take the first sip. Elaena's eyebrows furrowed at his hesitation, and he looked at her blankly in wait.

She felt humor bubble back into her system at his clear reluctance to go first.

Aemond, please... Please, just do it—Gods, it even smells wrong. . . I swear to the Mother, if I drink this shit and he backs out. . .

The prince went unmoving, slowly squinting at Elaena in that previous mischief. She struggled to fight her grin against his challenging gaze.

Aemond, stop looking at me and just drink it—

Suddenly, Elaena heard a harsh choke beside her. Her wide eyes tore away from Aemond's stubborn glint to see Samantha's face balled up in disgust.

"Eugh—" She gagged lowly, her nose wrinkling as she set her goblet down.

Saera sat beside her with a wide stare, her hurt expression laced with disappointment.

Elaena kept her goblet to her lips, peering about the table as everyone but her and Aemond reacted to the offensive flavor. Hyaline and Ellyn looked quite confused, but the Baratheon girl looked to Cerelle in assurance.

Cristine looked at Cerelle in bewilderment, and the Lannister girl looked back in a building flush. Her green eyes checked the table, taking in the disturbed expressions of the party.

Helaena was unabashed in expressing her distaste, wrinkling her nose like a child fighting veg. Otto managed to maintain his everlasting scowl, but he slowly placed his goblet back down. Alicent's baffled expression left as quickly as it came, and she quickly swallowed the drink before setting her goblet back to the table.

Even Tyland struggled to suppress a gag, but his lips quirked into a strange smile, "Well, then!"

He took his seat quickly, clearing his throat and eyeing the reactions of the table anxiously.

Elaena met Aemond's gaze again, seeing that he still had not sipped from his cup.

. . . Well, then, indeed.

She carefully set her untouched wine to the table, and Aemond's smile softened at her as he did the same.

"That's the last time I drink at the enemy's table," Samantha whispered, and Elaena shut her eyes to keep from laughing at the Tarly girl's strained tone, "This bitch is trying to kill us."

Elaena couldn't help the snort that escaped her, and she turned her face away from Sam. She opened her eyes to look at Helaena's traumatized expression, and she sighed before laying a hand on the princess's.

She would have warned them all if it hadn't been rude; judging by Cerelle's patent embarrassment, it wouldn't have been the decent choice. Though as much as Elaena sympathized for the blonde, the shift in her confidence was quite amusing—

"Is it authentic to the taste, Lady Elaena?"

Her gaze snapped up to meet Cerelle's striking green eyes. Her expression was far more reserved than its former giddy pride.

Elaena's heart stuttered as the table slowly turned to her, and she looked at Cerelle in confusion. She'd never addressed Elaena before, and to do it at her own nameday table...

Mind your words. Keep calm...

"I... I wouldn't know, my lady." Elaena said softly, apprehension clear in her tone. Cerelle rose an eyebrow, curling her lips in surprise.

"But wouldn't you know?" Her bright voice continued, "Have you never been to Dorne?"

. . . What?

Elaena's heart stuttered again, and her soft expression flattened. Her throat went dry, and she felt her stomach begin to knot up. She could see the uneasy postures of those around her, but her gaze stuck to the curious blonde across from her.

Her mind ran with endless slurs and names for the unbelievable girl, but she swallowed tightly before replying.

"Afraid not, Lady Cerelle." She said through clenched teeth, her lips forming a polite smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"Such a pity." Cerelle sighed, sending Elaena a look of sympathy.

"None of us have been to Dorne, Cerelle." Samantha shot, glaring unabashedly at the smug Lannister girl. Elaena was grateful for her friend's words, as she needed a distraction from the urge to throw her stacked platter across the table.

Calm down. Calm down. Relax. Relax—Hold fast.

Cerelle scoffed at Samantha, leaning towards Aemond's still figure with a snide smirk. Elaena rubbed her covered wrists against her skirts, finding it harder and harder not to grab her cutlery and launch it at the blonde.

"Speak for yourself." Cerelle mumbled towards Samantha, turning her gaze to Aemond with intention of engaging with him.

But he kept his eye on the lady across the table.

"Perhaps we shall remedy that, Lady Elaena." He said aloud, calling the attention of the whole party. The prince hadn't spoken all night, and his voice sent a chill through the room.

Elaena tore her sharp gaze away from the stunned blonde beside him, and his attention made her heart stop.

"I have never been to Dorne either." He said with a shrug, a smile peaking through his stoic disposition.

Everyone looked at him in shock, and Elaena blinked in surprise. The table waited for her response, as did he, but her heart stuttered at his soft gaze.

Aemond. . . Really?

"Absolutely," Helaena was the one to break the silence, her tone cheerful against the tension, "It would be a grand adventure."

Elaena's gaze flickered to the princess, and she watched as Helaena turned in her seat to acknowledge the posted Criston Cole.

"Would you be so kind as to escort us, Ser Criston?" She asked with a sweet grin. Elaena's eyebrows furrowed in overwhelming disbelief, and her gaze flickered about the table before landing on Alicent.

The Queen looked to Cole in apprehension, but her doe eyes looked at Helaena's excited form with hesitance. Cole's blank expression softened into valiance, unaware of Alicent's unease as he looked to Helaena.

"It would be my honor, princess." He nodded heroically, a touch of humor in his answering smile as Helaena cheesed at him.

Elaena looked back to Aemond to see his smile had curled further. Hers lips formed a tight line to keep her own grin at bay, but she struggled at the sound of Samantha's snicker.

"I'm sure the wine there would be far more authentic than this pig piss, indeed." The Tarly girl said bluntly, raising her goblet to peer into it with a grimace.

Elaena nearly snorted at the redhead's words, but she covered her face just in time. Saera met her shocked gaze in a similar strain, nudging Samantha's unimpressed form with caution.

"Lady Samantha," Alicent called out, catching the ladies' attentions, "That is unbecoming."

Elaena felt her expression falter at the Queen's stiff tone, but Samantha maintained her smirk.

"Forgive me, your Grace." She said sweetly, and Alicent pursed her lips at her... Though Elaena swore she saw the Queen's lips curl ever so slightly.

"Regardless of your delicate palette, Lady Samantha, I can assure you, we have ordered the very best for my niece. Quite." Tyland said, cutting into his platter with a tense jaw.

Some assurance that is... Even your niece couldn't hold it down...

Elaena breathed a scoff while Samantha subtly rolled her eyes, humming to the man in compliance.

"We have another red that might appease you, Lady Samantha." Aemond said, gaining the attention of the table again. Elaena blushed to see his gaze still on her regardless of his acknowledgment to Sam.

Alicent looked at him sideways, and Otto chuckled lowly next to her.

Samantha quirked her eyebrow, her smirk growing as she tethered her fingers under her chin, "Oh, my prince?"

Aemond hummed to her, "A true favorite of mine, in fact."

Elaena squinted at him, and he squinted back at her. She felt a laugh bubble up in her chest but refrained from loosing it.

His expression, subtle as it was, leaked with roguery.

"Well, I'm certain we can trust your superior palette," Samantha nodded, flickering her troublesome gaze between him and Elaena, "We'll have to broaden Lady Elaena's for the excursion to Dorne."

Elaena bit into her cheek, and Aemond tilted his head at her in challenge.

. . . Fine then.

She sighed before turning to Sam, "Very well," Her tone was far more even than it had been before, "But a Dornish red would not be my first choice."

"And why is that?" Aemond asked immediately, subtly tapping his finger against the table. She felt her heart skip as she looked to him again, catching the glimmer in his eye.

"Quite sour, is it not?" She said, wrinkling her nose slightly, "It takes away from the spice of it."

Aemond clenched his jaw and raised his eyebrow, "Mm... Then what would better suit your taste, my lady?"

She couldn't ignore the building excitement at experiencing the sweet yellow again, but she tried her best to remain inconspicuous.

"I'm partial to a yellow, your Grace." She said softly, and Aemond turned his gaze to the posted servants.

As he called for a barrel of the Dornish wine, Elaena realized the table had fallen into a stiff silence. Alicent remained quiet, though her doe eyes flickered to Tyland's tense form every now and then.

Cerelle gritted her teeth, subtly shaking in palpable spleen. Cristine raised an eyebrow as she cut into her food, keeping her gaze to the haughty spread before them all. Ellyn looked between Cerelle and Elaena, anxiety evident in her icy blue eyes. Hyaline peered at Elaena from the side, inquisition bleeding from her gaze.

It was only Helaena, Samantha, and Saera who looked about in sweet excitement as the yellow wine was brought in. Sitting between the three of them, Elaena couldn't help but feel protected.

Not to mention the assurance brought by Aemond's gaze. He only looked away from her to place his first goblet on the servant's tray and grab a fresh one filled with the yellow wine.

Elaena's eyes widened at him, knowing the swap out was unnecessary since everyone was gifted a fresh cup. He chose her selection entirely and intentionally over Cerelle's, and the act brought tears to the blonde's eyes.

Poor thing... on her nameday as well...

Elaena swallowed the guilt eating at her chest from the sight of Cerelle's upset. It was an easy task with the distraction of the bubbling concoction set before her.

She grasped her new goblet quickly, sipping it and shutting her eyes in delight as the wine immediately fluttered in her veins.

"My Gods," Saera whispered in sweet surprise, "This is better than Arbor Gold."

Hyaline's lip drew into a silent sneer as the Stark girl grinned to Samantha.

"A close second," The Tarly girl whispered back, "Though the spice might just need getting used to."

Elaena smiled in victory as the table settled back from its disgust of the first red. Even Tyland raised his eyebrows his delight, though his expression fled when he met the betrayed gaze of his niece.

Aemond brought the drink to his lips, and Elaena furrowed her eyebrows as he took a sure swig.

"Brother, was I wrong in believing you detested other Dornish drinks?" Helaena called in surprise after nursing her own goblet. Aemond's lips pursed around the flavor of the yellow.

"Detest is a strong word..." He said before grimacing stubbornly at Elaena, "But this is far too sweet."

She giggled unintentionally at him, and he blinked at the sound, "That doesn't seem to stop you from drinking it... my prince."

She quickly sipped her wine again, covering up her slip in formalities as his gaze softened.

"Who could say," He said lowly, and she felt heat drift down from her face, "Perhaps I'll warm to it, amongst other things... my lady."

. . . Stop looking at me.

Her cheeks flared at the underlying tone of his words. What was he thinking? What was he truly thinking?

He gazed at her as if they were alone, as if she were the only one there. As the heat pooled in her groin, she suddenly felt the weight of the people surrounding them.

She could see Samantha and Saera smirking to one another in her peripheral, as well as feel Helaena's curious gaze on her. But his eye held her prisoner, and her heart beat lowly with the ticking seconds of silence.

Aemond licked his lips before sipping from his cup again, and Elaena realized she needed to fill their silence quickly. She was getting far too flustered.

"There will be more to try in Dorne, to be sure." She finally replied to him, her tone wavering on nervousness and lightheartedness.

His answering smirk made her lower heat flutter, and he hummed to her in agreement.

"It would be quite troublesome visiting Dorne at the moment, would it not, Lady Elaena?"

Elaena's gaze flickered away from his to see Cristine staring directly at her. Her tone was soft and curious, making Elaena's fluster simmer down in confusion.

"What with your uncle warring with them and the Triarchy... now and before?" The Celtigar girl elaborated stiffly, a sneer peaking out at the end of her words.

Elaena's eyebrows furrowed as she took in the lady's condescending tone. Cristine hummed in thought, looking on dissatisfied.

"And never-mind a daughter of Old Valyria consorting with descendants of the Rhoynar..." She added, tilting her head in consideration, "Though I suppose it wouldn't matter much, Lady Elaena, seeing as you are a descendant as well?"

The table fell silent again, low enough for Cole's scoff to be heard from the corner of the room.

The snobs all sat up in wait, eyeing Elaena with falsely innocent curiosity. Saera held her goblet to her lips, seeming dazed in discomfort. Samantha's lips parted, her green eyes trailing over the ladies in disbelief.

She set her goblet down, looking to Elaena hesitation... But her green eyes widened at the sight of Elaena's clear lilacs staring down Cristine.

For once, her thoughts were silent, and the heat returned to her face in embarrassment... But that was not all. She grasped her goblet so tightly, she thanked the Gods it hadn't been made of thinner glass. Her teeth dug into her tongue, and a lump built into her throat as her lips curled slightly.

Aemond blinked at her expression, seeing a strange spark in her lilac eyes, a penetrating gleam that made him stiffen. For a moment, she didn't look like a kitten to him, but a viper.

Elaena was angry. The room warmed from the pique coming off of her.

Her thoughts awakened the longer she stared at Cristine, birthing images and words Elaena refrained from realizing. She couldn't help such mentality. She was sick and tired of it—of being different, of being singled out, of being told she was wrong for simply being.

Much less from such vapid, spoiled cunts as the ladies before her.

The longer she looked at Cristine, the more the silver-gold girl's resolve wavered. Her gaze flickered away from Elaena's eery calm, and Elaena blinked to her uneasy form with a polite smile.

She bit into her bottom lip, swallowing stiffly as the room awaited her next words.

"I suppose you would know best, Lady Cristine," Elaena nodded, and the lady met her gaze again in discomfort, "House Celtigar is such an important house of Old Valyria, even with its lack for coin and dragons..."

Cristine's eyes widened at the evident sardonic tone of Elaena's voice. The Velaryon girl tilted her head, keeping her smile.

"Quite the favored house in the eyes of our ancestors... But supping with the blood of their old enemy?" She said with a subtle pout, raising her cup before saying, "You must tremble to wonder how much farther that would lower your sigil."

She sipped her delightful wine, feeling its essence warm the ice of her veins further.

Samantha sniffled dryly, picking at her nails as she mumbled, "If it's possible to fall any lower."

If she was surprised by Elaena's sudden spark, she masked it expertly to back her up. However, Saera choked on the rim of her goblet, and she quickly covered her laugh with a cough.

Cristine's expression remained in tight consideration, but Elaena could see the embarrassment flooding her cheeks. Her gaze flickered to Alicent nervously, and Elaena smirked at her discomposure.

Sam stared at the other offended snobs, daring any of them to say something while Elaena's sharp eyes stayed trained on Cristine, sipping her wine again in wait.

"I wouldn't worry over such a petty hindrance, Lady Elaena," It was Aemond's voice that finally broke the tension of the table, and Elaena looked at him with those same piercing eyes.

He looked back to her in deep intrigue, and it distracted her from her anger long enough for it to simmer down.

"It would be by my royal decree that we go." He said with full conviction, and then he locked eyes with Cristine. The girl swallowed stiffly and lowered her gaze back to the table.

Elaena felt her heart stutter as Aemond returned his gaze to her, his expression softening in assurance. She looked at Alicent's reserved expression, wondering what the Queen made of her son's deliberation.

But the woman kept quiet, and her soft brown eyes trailed up from the table to meet Elaena's. It was as if she were truly noticing the Velaryon girl, and Elaena's thoughts erupted in their normal disquiet.

Oh, Gods—She's looking—What does she think? Is she appalled? Why did you speak so brazenly? You let your anger get the better of you—Never again.

Alicent let out a soft breath before clearing her throat and looking to the posted bards of the room.

"Let us have some music." She called, and the staff quickly readied their instruments. It seemed everyone was eager to distinguish the tension in the air.

A sweet jig started up, and Elaena shrank slightly in her seat, feeling the weight of her eruption truly settle on her. She could barely lift her gaze without meeting a guest's curious eyes at the table.

"Prince Patches is staring at you again." Samantha whispered into her ear, and Elaena stiffened as she looked at Aemond.

"Stop calling him that." She breathed to Sam.

The redhead snorted lightly, but ignored Elaena's demand, "I can hardly blame the poor fellow... That was truly something."

Elaena met her green eyes and felt her embarrassment falter. Saera leaned forward, sending Elaena an agreeable wink. She and Samantha were proud of her, and she couldn't help but smile.

She felt the hand of Helaena rest on her own, and she turned to see the princess's soft glint. Elaena felt abashed by the warmth of their pride.

"Might we give him incentive to step up?" She heard Saera whisper into Sam's ear. Elaena's eyebrows furrowed as Samantha smirked to the Stark girl.

Saera stood from her seat, approaching Helaena as Samantha stood as well.

"What are you doing?" Elaena whispered uneasily, watching after the three of them.

"Never-mind us," Sam whispered cheekily, her gaze flickering to the other end of the table, "Just sit tight."

Elaena's eyes widened as she picked up on her friends' intentions, seeing Saera snicker to herself behind Sam.

"What are you doing?" Elaena repeated with a blank expression.

"Going to dance. Stay. Put." Sam replied, but Elaena grasped her arm to halt her movements.

"I thought you didn't dance." Elaena whispered through clenched teeth, sardonic humor edging on her voice. Samantha snorted when Saera grasped her other arm to pull her away from Elaena.

"She dances with normal people, remember? Now stay." The Stark girl whispered quickly before tugging Samantha along.

Elaena sat stiffly, watching her friends fall into the steps of the jig. She felt far more exposed with their empty seats surrounding her, and she almost feared turning back to meet Aemond's gaze.

So she kept her eyes on the three of them, distracting herself with their patent delight. She flared her nose as they peaked over at her in girlish glee, shaking her head at their conspicuous attention.

She heard a seat shift at the table, and she swallowed as the person's feet padded towards her. The music muffled behind her nervous breaths, and she stiffened at the feeling of a tap on her shoulder.

She turned and blinked at the sight of Ser Tyland. He folded an arm behind himself, smiling kindly down to her.

"A dance, my lady?" He asked, extending his other arm for her to take. Her eyes widened as her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Her nervousness shifted to disappointment as she looked to see Aemond still in his seat. The prince's gaze pointed to Tyland, and his finger continued to tap against the table.

Elaena looked away quickly, biting back the bitterness coating her tongue before acknowledging Tyland again.

"Ser." She nodded to him, hoping her expression didn't speak to her reluctance. She felt she had been rude enough for the night.

Tyland happily guided her towards the open floor, and she met eyes with Saera and Samantha. The Tarly girl's expression fell in disapproval.

"Oh, what the fuck—" Elaena heard her mumble before Saera pulled her away.

Indeed. What the fuck?

Elaena sighed as Tyland pulled her into position. She couldn't ignore the off-putting scent of roses coming from his doublet, nor the firmness of his hand at her waist. She swallowed uneasily as he grasped her hand, stepping up to begin the dance.

Silence lingered between them for a moment, and Elaena minded her steps as he moved about in stiff precision.

"You know," His pretentious voice began, and she looked up to meet his green eyes, "I recall you from Lady Laena's funeral years ago."

Elaena's heart stuttered, and she rose her eyebrows to feign interest.

"Bustling about in devoted service... You were just a little thing, then," He continued, his tone lowering into a playful whisper, "Such a beauty, even at that tender age."

Elaena's lips quirked as she tried to paint an enthused smile on her face. It was easier said than done.

"Though nothing compared to your countenance now," He jested, his voice edging on a coo that made her throat go dry, "Tis quite marvelous what changes in a handful of years."

She couldn't contain the shutter that rolled through her as his hand trailed further down her waist. Her gaze lowered from his, and she felt herself go numb under his eye.

"Such beauty should not be left to wilt on a rock like Driftmark," He whispered, his tone growing dazed as he ogled her, "Have you taken to King's Landing?"

Elaena felt her heart sink at his words, and she clenched her teeth as he let his hand ghost further down.

"Because... forgive my boldness, but just as you and the other ladies, I have been looking to marry," He went on, seeming oblivious to her blank stare, "I may not offer as much as my lord brother, but I can assure my future wife's stay in the capital."

His face began to lean closer to hers, and she tensed further at the feel of his breath.

"I'm sure you'd love to remain here. Cerelle would love to have a friend here close in age when the season is done, and though she may very well marry Prince Aemond, you should not feel too discouraged."

Her gaze flitted up to his then, seeing a sly curl etched on to his lips.

"I'll take good care of you, hm?" He whispered, his fingers pinching at her hip and causing her eyes to widen, "And you can take care of me..."

Elaena felt her stomach knot up, and she grimaced at his conviction.

Just as she feared she would throw up from the lurching of her stomach, a solid hand came down on Tyland's shoulder. He was yanked back, forced to pull his hands away from Elaena.

Her eyes locked on to Aemond's form, watching as he stepped before Tyland with a tight expression. Her heart stuttered back to life when he stood in front of her, glaring at the Lannister with poise.

"Allow me." He stated lowly, his balled fists folding behind him as Tyland stepped back from his towering approach.

"Of course... my prince." Tyland said in a shaken voice, and he bowed his head quickly before making for his seat at the table.

Aemond turned back to Elaena, and her eyes widened at his tense expression. He was clearly upset, but she felt relief wash over her at the sight of him.

"Come here." He finally sighed, stepping closer to her.

Her heart leapt as he reached for her wrist, and she watched his large hand guide it to his shoulder. She felt the weight of his other hand rest against the small of her back, gently pulling her closer to him.

Oh... oh my...

He initiated their steps, taking a slower pace than the jig demanded. Elaena was glad for it, certain she wouldn't be able to keep up as her mind fluttered from his proximity.

She felt a thrill dancing with Aemond, noticing his quick reaction to her steps. His eye remained on her, fully confident in keeping their pace, and she marveled at his improvement since they'd been children.

His expression remained annoyed though, and Elaena swallowed stiffly before speaking.

"Thank you." She said up to him, and he furrowed his eyebrows, "For sending him off."

Aemond's lip curled as he hummed, "Tyland doesn't deserve to dance with you anymore than he deserves to sit at my father's council."

Elaena's eyes widened at his harsh words, and he let out the breath of a chuckle.

"That's the last time he'll ever order through our coffers." He said, and she chuckled with him before gazing at the table curiously. Tyland watched after them with a sad grimace, drinking more of the Dornish yellow before looking to his niece.

Cerelle also watched the prince and the lady, her previous irritation strengthened into patent fury. Elaena gritted her teeth, seeing the possessive glint in the blonde's eyes as she looked at Aemond.

This bitch... And it's believed she will marry him...

She doesn't even care for him, doesn't even mind his opinion or disposition...

He is not a thing to acquire... Nor am I.

Elaena looked to Tyland in equal frustration, her cheeks flaring as his sly words echoed in her mind. Aemond watched her look about in unease, and she felt his hand press against her back deeper.

She met his concerned eye, but for once, she felt little pressure to hide her discontent. His eye ghosted over her face, wordlessly acknowledging her upset.

"Tis quite stuffy in here, wouldn't you agree?" He said lowly, and she furrowed her eyebrows at him, "I'd like to step out, would you join me?"

She could hear an underlying message in his words, but she was too thrown by them to decipher it. One thing was for certain; she didn't want to be under the prying eyes of the Lannisters any longer.

"I would." She whispered back, and he seized their movement before pulling his arm from around her. He bent it for her to take, and she quickly accepted it before he guided her to the ballroom doors.

She ignored the gleeful looks of Helaena, Samantha, and Saera, as well as the incredulous squints of the snobs. She couldn't even be bothered to worry over their potential seclusion, choosing to trust in Aemond's indifference to being unchaperoned. 

She simply needed to get out of the damned room.

He brought her to the outside courtyard, and she felt the night air rejuvenate her lungs. It wasn't nearly as frigid as it had been the previous night, and the last bit of snow dwindled into the grounds of the Keep.

Elaena sighed in relief. Winter was coming to an end.

Aemond brought her to the ballroom's neighboring garden, and they passed by a lone bard tuning his lute. The man nodded to their approach, and Elaena smiled softly to him as Aemond walked to the middle of the garden.

He pulled his arm from her before undoing his doublet and shrugging it off. Her heart stuttered as she took in his underlying black tunic, and then again as he laid the leather doublet on the ground.

He took a seat on the garment's left side, resting his arms on his knees and looking up to Elaena in invitation.

"It'll get dirty." She mumbled, eyeing his sprawled doublet. He looked down to it for a moment before shrugging.

"It's that or your dress." He said casually, looking back up at her, "I have others."

Elaena struggled not to smile at his easy disposition, and she nodded before taking to his right side. His gaze followed her, watching her settle before looking about the garden in half interest.

They could hear the music playing within the ballroom, a few laughs or voices breaking through. But Elaena was more intrigued by Aemond's silence.

Her thoughts festered in it, and she found herself melting into vexation and fatigue, the weight of the supper finally showing on her face. She couldn't bring herself to worry over keeping composure—she was tired of stifling, even if it was the only thing she knew how to do.

She let her head rest against Aemond's shoulder, noticing how he stilled from the contact. His body proved softer without his leather, and her eyes shut at the feeling of his warmth and the smokey scent of him.

He remained still and silent for a moment, and she kept her eyes closed as she decompressed.

"Are you alright?" She heard him softly ask, and she clenched her teeth as her instincts kicked in.

Say yes. Yes. Say yes—Lie. Say yes.

She grimaced to herself, thinking over the hurt she'd felt at the supper table, the embarrassment, the anger... Aemond had seen it all. He wouldn't have asked if he hadn't been interested. He only spoke when he was interested...

Why lie to him?

Elaena took a deep breath and opened her eyes to try her luck.

"... No." She mumbled, looking to her pearly violet skirts in apprehension. She heard him let out a breath before he spoke again.

"What is it?" He asked, and her heart stuttered under pressure.

Too many things. What isn't wrong?

Don't overwhelm him—Perhaps it's not that big of a deal—It isn't. Do not be dramatic, what are you doing?

"... Tis silly, Aemond." She sighed, reaching to pick at the fabric of his sleeve thoughtlessly. She could see him turn to her in her peripheral, and she swallowed down her building nerves.

"Allow me to be the judge of that," He said in his steady tone, and she paused fiddling with his tunic, "Tell me."

His words were not demanding or heavy, and Elaena felt her mind waver on elaboration. She thought over the causes of her upset, trying to think of how they allied to disgruntle her.

Between Cerelle calling out her disconnect from Dorne, Cristine acknowledging her conflicting heritage, and Tyland fixing himself as the suitor she deserved...

She slowly understood something that had furthered her reluctance to join the court. Aemond watched as she sat up from him, her eyes glazing over in thought.

"I am..." She trailed off as her chest tightened, and she scoffed through a humorless smirk, "... I'm afraid... I will either end up alone... or with someone who does not truly love me..."

Her voice wavered in its cynical tone, and she dropped her gaze in disconcertment.

She wasn't exactly happy with the revelation, but it felt like she had no other options with the way life treated her. She had been born different and alone. She had been raised by people who had loved to acknowledge it and loved to tell her who she was. They had never asked. They had never cared.

Marriage had always been a mandatory factor in her life, and she realized she may very well match with someone no different from the rest.

"... You've a right to be afraid."

At the sound of his low voice, she met Aemond's eye. She could tell by his fixated gaze he found no humor in her pitiful idea—her words took him by surprise, and his eyebrows quirked in a way she hadn't seen before.

It was sympathetic. Her thoughts combatted the sincerity of his expression, but she found herself too intrigued to look away from him.

"Believe it or no," He continued, "I am..."

Elaena blinked at him in astonishment, feeling her thoughts dwindle into nothing at the small tone of his voice. His gaze shifted in apprehension, and she felt strangely comforted by his nerves.

"... I do believe it," She said after appraising him, "I just never would have fathomed your admission."

Aemond sighed through his nose, swallowing as he pursed his lips at her, "You tell anyone, and I swear—"

"I wouldn't dream of it." She said quickly, feeling her mood brighten from his challenging tone, "You've a reputation to maintain, after-all."

He rolled his eye, turning his gaze away as he nodded to her.

"Indeed," He said in sarcastic seriousness, "What would the pricks of the Keep think if they found out the monstrous one-eyed prince cared for such things?"

He turned back to Elaena, allowing his smirk to spread as he leaned into her humored form.

She smirked back to him, "I cannot speak for them..."

"Then what do you think, Elaena?" He asked, his smile softening in wait. She felt a lump grow in her throat as a wave of relief washed over her. Her smile remained, but she had to blink away the building emotion brought on by his understanding.

"That, for once, I am not alone in my fears... thank the Gods." She nodded to him pleasantly, and he bowed his head in what Elaena could only decipher as bashfulness.

Her heart fluttered at the sight. It was so endearing, so different from the sharp exterior she'd grown used to.

"I have to ask," She said, and he met her gaze again, "What makes you so sure there isn't a lady at court so ardently smitten with you?"

He blinked at her with furrowed eyebrows, thrown by her direct question.

"I mean," She mumbled, dropping her gaze to the leather beneath her, "At the very least, you have a flock of enthusiasts just inside."

She refrained from grimacing as she thought of the vacuous snobs, all biding for Aemond's favor in superficial ways. He looked away in blank thought, and she heard him let out the breath of a scoff.

"Well, aside from the obvious reason for their aversion to me," He replied, "I'm sure every interested lady finds my title and dragon most attractive... That isn't love so much as its ambition."

Elaena blinked at him in confusion, though he seemed resolved in his thought process.

"What's the obvious reason?" She asked, seeing that he wouldn't elaborate further.

He held his blank expression as he slowly met her gaze. The longer they looked at one another, the further she took in his face...

When she truly registered the scar running from below his eyepatch, her confused expression faltered. Aemond turned his gaze away again, letting out a sigh as his stoic expression unfolded on his features.

"You know, Elaena." He said lowly, and she felt her chest tighten again as she looked at him. It was strange, feeling such deep emotion while gazing at the most detached man in the world.

With three words, she heard him loud and clear.

"... They're wrong." She said, and she watched his gaze lower before it trailed back to hers.

"Who is?" He asked.

"Those voices in your head," She said softly, swallowing down heaviness in her chest, "They're all wrong."

His eye was the first thing to brighten at her, and then his expression melted into curious surprise. Her gaze did not relent, and he found himself stunned by her glimmering lilacs.

Elaena watched as he looked away, his soft expression fighting against nonchalance. She felt relief continue to choke her, knowing that her assumption had been right by the conflicting emotions on his face.

She was not the only one enslaved by her thoughts. Perhaps, that was what made Aemond so quiet.

She found herself wanting to lay in the confines of his mind, to decode its inner workings and prove how inaccurate they were to what she saw in him...

And then she stiffened at the intimate nature of the thought... and she realized his otherworldly beauty was not the only cause for her attraction to him.

She liked him. The man who stood strong and formidable to others, but sat awkwardly in the weight of his thoughts with her.

She realized she liked nearly every facet of him she had come to know in such a short time. His intuition, his awareness, his brutal honesty, his wit, his soft spoken tone, his curiosity, his patience...

His guarded compassion... His peace...

She felt at peace with him.

"Aemond..."

He kept his gaze low but turned his head to her with a hum. When she didn't immediately respond, he met her eyes curiously, and she looked at him in a certain resolve.

"... You're my favorite person, you know that?" She said, and she watched his eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"... You exaggerate." He said easily, his expression edging on skepticism and causing her heart to stutter.

"I don't." She said, shaking her head in full conviction, "I promise... zaldrīzes."
(dragon)

Her lip curled as she tried the name, and his expression deepened in shock. His gaze tested her resolve a moment longer, but she did not buckle. She was telling the truth, and he flitted his gaze away.

. . . Adorable. He's quite adorable.

She allowed her words to linger in the air, feeling pleased with her courage to deliver them. He was truly the one person she felt inclined to relax with. The one person who made her feel like she had all the time in the world.

She was content with Aemond not responding, simply wishing for him to know. But his reply left her heart quite sore.

"... I don't believe I've ever been anyone's favorite before." He mumbled, keeping his gaze away from hers. She swallowed stiffly, seeing the news truly settle over him.

"... Then we are far more alike than I believed." She mumbled back, and a soft smile overtook his lips as he hummed in thought. Elaena felt a similar smile etch on to her face.

A fresh silence built between them, but she could feel something tether her to the prince in that moment. It was something warm and fond, and she had an inkling he felt it as well.

Perhaps even the lone bard felt it, as the sound of low strumming ensued in the silence of the pair. Elaena's smile deepened at his obvious choice of a slow song.

"I believe he wishes us to dance..." She whispered, peaking up at Aemond to see the prince roll his eye. She snorted softly at the sight of mischief threatening his countenance again.

"Do you wish the same?" He asked lowly, and his eye trailed over to meet her delighted gaze.

"You have gotten far better over the years." She jested, and he fought off a shy smile.

"You had to remind me, did you?"

"I'll make a note to always remind you."

He shook his head at her, immediately standing up from his place on the ground.

"Let's erase the memory then?" He offered, and she chuckled at his smirk.

Perhaps it was the lingering effects of Dornish yellow, or the soft sounds coming from the bard's lute, or the sweet safety in Aemond's smile...

Elaena was thankful for whatever the cause for her calm might have been. Because she was nothing but delighted to be whisked away with him.

———

This one took it tf outta me ngl. I'm exhausted 😭 Another one from the vault that I've been planning towards (tbh the next few chapters have all been planned for the longest, but my dumbass never went into specific detail, so filling in the gaps and rewriting shit has been a pain.)

This is the setup of the table if anyone wondered (going clockwise: Cole in the corner, Otto, Alicent, Aems, Cerelle, Cristine, Ellyn, Hyaline, Saera, Sam, El, and Hel.)

Cerelle really thought she ate trynna sit Elaena as far from her as possible, but the dumbass put her in Aemond's perfect line of sight 🤣

Them snobs really tried my girl, but hats off to Aemond, Helaena, Sam, and Saera. The official Elaena Velaryon bodyguards lol.

Big hats off to Elaena, herself. Mamas got tired of being a pushover, that's what FINALLY being taken care of will do to you.

Love seeing her growth this chapter, and there's so much more to come. Lemme know your thoughts, so happy to see new readers, and as always thank you to my girls purplewriter_x & AHoleForAemond !

Check y'all in 27 (i'm pooped :3)