#(neith.)

if her brother had witnessed this, he would have shook himself with fury; he would have demanded, quite justly, of respect to be shown with which house martell deserves  — they are the folks who do not bend, after all. they are the unbowed, the unbroken. but he is not here. he has not been with her since neith had been sent to king's landing; the last memory neith had had of qoren martell was his fierce brown eyes, breaking apart as he holds her for the last time. he had spoken in their mixed language of rhoynar and common tongue, telling her to be careful. to call for him, for anything she may need.

she has, and yet dorne remains stubborn from siding with any faction as the rest of the seven kingdoms break, and burn, under targaryen's hefty thumbs. neith likes to believe she does not resent them, that she is not capable of unreasonable resentment, the sort she had seen her ancestors passed from one generation to the next. when she had arrived in king's landing, bright-eyed and young, years ago, she had naively thought that their houses could be joined; these children of the dragons and her, a daughter of the sand, could be friends. it would have been the beginning of a new teaching, of a new age.

the slaughter of prince jaehaerys changed that.

she does not resent. she does not want to, but neith's eyes remain on the floor. her voice is mechanical, cold. she used to dance through these halls once; her queen helaena, then princess, had clapped along, joyous, despite the foreign beat and rhythm neith had represented. they were girls together, however briefly. those are gone now, as well, with her queen on spikes. ❛ — your side have won. will you spare the princess jaehaera ? ❜

obedient, silent neith; who would stand hours outside of the queen's chambers if only there would be a chance to coax her out. the only reason neith would find herself tracking back anywhere else would simply be because she intends to make sure that no harm have come to the rest of the young children. in that, she trusts the governess and increased rounds of knights assigned to them. still, the air of the red keep did not return to how it used to. what once was a bustling place, now it is as though every steps are constantly overshadowed with tension. and hers—

with qoren martell refusing to aid into any sides of the dance, neith is left alone. she had chosen to be left here really, regardless of the many messengers, both known and unknown to the crown, who had demanded her return. still, it did not change many of the courts' opinion on her. either she was the traitorous dornish princess, or she was the abandoned sandskin. whatever they decided, she is most likely an enemy, simply by the inaction of one sibling. what a curse their house words have become: unbowed, unbent, unbroken. she knows intimately that her brother would not change his mind  — and neither would she.

❛ today prince maelor spoke his first word in full high valyrian. would you not like to see him ? ❜