#elaemond

What would it be like to kill someone upon the rocks? How long would someone suffer in the blistering sun and salty air? Would they die upon impact, or would it break their back and render them immobile, unable to stop the slow creeping of the Stranger?

She bites the inside of her lip. The pain stops the morbid thoughts, she finds. More and more as of late, her brain keeps coming back to them. They circle her brain like vultures awaiting the dying. Elayna closes her eyes and inhales slowly. Some days, she cannot tell if she wishes to kill or be killed. She thinks it is the latter of the two. She has no true wish to die, only to escape her suffering. Her life has become a prison she cannot escape from no matter how much she tries.

Then again. Is it truly a prison when she has willingly given her captor the keys? When the prison is of her own making?

She exhales. She pauses and rubs her face. 

If only she could talk to Cerelle. If only she could make her see...

“Elayna!”

The familiar voice makes Elayna's hairs stand on end. Elayna wants to ignore him. Maybe he'll go away if she pretends he isn't there. Of course, it has never stopped him before, so why would it now? Slowly, Elayna lifts her head.

Tymon walks towards her. He seems to be in a good mood. A smile graces his features. The wind blows his hair gently. Elayna looks at his eyes. His eyes turn first when he's angry; he can keep the smile up and make it seem genuine even when his eyes make it clear he wants nothing more than to commit an act of unspeakable violence just by looking him in the eye. His jaw betrays him next. 

His smile is always the last thing to go. 

“Tymon.” Elayna tries her best to answer his smile. She tries to force it to reach her eyes. It feels too tight, too fake. A surge of panic overtakes her. What if he sees it's fake? Will he ignore it? Will he pretend to not see it until he can use her lack of enthusiasm against her? What if it provokes his ire? She blinks. Her eyes must show her fear, she can't have that. 

Tymon laughs. When Elayna opens her eyes, she sees him holding his hands up. 

“Woah.” He sounds as if he is calming down a spooked horse, not a human being. She can hear the clear amusement in his tone. Elayna bites down on the inside of her cheek. She cannot sneer at him; no one else is around, and she is too close to the edge of the parapet. Despite her early thoughts, Elayna has no desire to be pushed off the castle.

“I did not mean to startle you. My sincerest apologies.”

“Think nothing of it. I was just under the impression I was alone.”

“One might begin to think you want to be alone.” Tymon stops right beside her. The sleeve of his doublet almost brushes against the sleeve of her dress. Elayna's skin crawls. “I noticed you left particularly early.”

“I needed some fresh air is all.” Elayna looks out towards the sea. “I spoke with Jeyne Marbrand. The incense they use in their Sept must be quite... strong.”

Elayna sniffs delicately as if to prove her point. Tymon lets out a small chuckle. He places his forearms on the low wall. 

“Yes, I have noticed that as well.” Tymon turns his head to the side. His green eyes inspect her. “Where is Cerelle? I thought if I found you, I might find her.”

Elayna swallows.

“Cerelle is talking with one of the Tarbeck daughters, I believe.” Gods above, she hates she knows this. “There's talk of one of them being brought in as one of Tyshara's ladies.”

Tymon hums. He looks back out to the ocean once more. He inches his forearm towards her. Elayna tries to subtly move her arm away. She reaches up and adjusts her necklace before placing her arm down. 

“Mother spoke to me today.” 

“Oh?” Elayna arches an eyebrow. “What did the two of you speak about?”

“Many things.” Tymon fidgets with one of the many rings on his fingers. “Mostly of the future.”

Elayna nods. Within a fortnight, Cerelle and Tymon would be celebrating their eight and tenth name day. The feast tonight kicks off the events to follow. The future looms large over everything now; all the politics and planning finally moving into action. A bitter, acrid taste surges into Elayna’s mouth. For all that Johanna cares about Cerelle, she will also use her, as is the way. A son ensures the line while a daughter ensures treaties and potential comfort in old age. 

She knows what will most likely become of Cerelle, but she has no idea what awaits her. For years, she and Cerelle would joke about having to find two brothers to marry. Naturally, Cerelle would marry the eldest and Elayna the younger. Elayna presses her lips together. She gazes at the far away horizon, feeling as if she herself is as much of a distance away from her own body as the horizon. Those plans... Well. They were no more.

She hears shifting, the rustle of clothes against the stone wall. Elayna forces herself back into her body. She turns her head. Tymon now stands with his back to the wall, facing away from the sea and into the courtyard. He crosses his arms.

“The plan is for you to accompany Cerelle to King's Landing when we leave.” 

“I'm aware.” Elayna tries to keep her tone pleasant. “I'm looking forward to it.”

Tymon turns his head to look at her. He evaluates her for a long moment. 

“Did you hear that from my mother or sister?”

“Cerelle told me. Why?”

Tymon smirks. “Then you don't know the good news yet.”

“Good news?” Elayna huffs a laugh. “Let me guess. Your father found an uninhabited island and named it after Cerelle?”

“Don't be ridiculous.”

“You're right, that is ridiculous. He named it after Tyshara.”

Tymon rolls his eyes. “I am the first born son.”

“Yes, but I've been under the impression islands are she's. On account of them being pretty to look at.” Elayna sees a brief flash of irritation on Tymon's face. “So the good news is not an island.”

“No, it isn't an island. That would be excellent news, but this is better.”

“Better than an island? Hmm. Dalton Greyjoy dying. Ideally a slow and incredibly painful death.”

“Alas. One can only wish.”

“Cerelle is betrothed to a Hightower? Is that it?”

Tymon scoffs. Elayna bites the inside of her lip to keep from giggling. As dangerous as it can be, she does enjoy annoying Tymon. He thinks himself to be so smart, to the point he corrects anyone he deems lower than himself. Yet, somehow, he falls into every single conversational trap she creates. It's almost as if he can't help it; he has to try to make someone else look like an idiot, even at the expense of making a fool of himself. 

The apple never falls far from the tree.

“No. It is not Cerelle marrying a Hightower.” Tymon sniffs almost delicately. Annoyance laces every word. Elayna has no doubt in her mind if she pushes more, she will push too far. Normally, she might relish in the chance to pick a fight. Instead, she decides to play nice. “I'm sure mother has higher ambitions for her.”

“What is the good news, then?”

Tymon looks at Elayna. His gaze feels intense. Elayna looks back at him. 

“Once Cerelle is settled and has found a husband, mother suggested you might come back. With us.”

Elayna's heart doesn't just sink; it plummets. It drops from her chest to her stomach the same way a boulder falls from a cliff. 

“I'm... I'm afraid I don't follow.”

“Don't play dumb with me, Elayna.” Tymon smiles, and for the first time, his smile itself scares her. “Isn't this what you wanted? I would think so, given all the times you have tormented and teased me. Finally, Mother has come to her senses about everything as well.”

“Tymon, I genuinely do not know what you're talking about.”

Tymon sighs. It's one of the most patronizing sounds Elayna has heard. It makes her skin crawl and jaw tighten.

“Mother wants to ensure you and Cerelle have ample time together before Cerelle is married. Once Cerelle is settled, our betrothal will be made official and announced.”

Elayna instantly regrets not jumping off the castle and onto the rocks below. A sour, bitter taste floods her mouth. She stares at him. 

“We're...?”

“To be married. Do keep up, Elayna. I cannot have a wife who is slow on the upkeep.”

Elayna's years of practice prevent her from snarling at him. Her upper lip still twitches. Her jaw clenches. She glares daggers at him. 

“I'm not slow!” She pauses. Tymon gives her a look as if he might hit her should she say more. “I am merely... surprised. I wouldn't have thought I would have been a contender.”

“I thought my fondness for you was evident.” Tymon tilts his head. He almost seems genuinely confused as to why Elayna doesn't understand. “ ‘Tis a good match.”

“Surely there are better matches. One of the Lefford's daughters per-”

Elayna's next words are muffled. Tymon surges forward and kisses her. The beginnings of his beard feel rough and unpleasant against her skin, as do his lips. He takes advantage of her parted lips to try and slip his tongue into her mouth. It feels wet and gross against hers, almost slimy. An unpleasant shiver runs up her spine. Elayna clamps her teeth down on his tongue. She means it as a warning bite.

It works.

Tymon pulls away, fury blazing in his eyes. His smile drops.

“Tymon. I don't... this isn't appropriate!” Elayna hisses. “Nothing has even been announced or made official, you cannot just kiss me like that.”

“I don't care.”

“Well I do. Your reputation may not be at stake but mine is.”

Tymon stares at her, his expression unreadable. Elayna's chest heaves. 

“Why would your reputation be ruined? Everyone knows you are mine and mine alone.” He reaches forward and attempts to touch her face. Elayna jerks backwards and away from him. 

“Tymon.” 

Both Elayna and Tymon turn towards the sound of the voice. Tymon scowls. Cerelle stands on the parapet as well. She looks radiant, the setting sun lighting her in beautiful hues. Cerelle has her father's hair and eyes but everything else about her comes from her mother, down to the cold expression she wears.

“Cerelle.” Tymon greets. His tone matches the coolness of Cerelle's face. “I was wondering where you were.”

“So you thought to seek Elayna out?” She steps forward. Tymon’s upper lip twitches, but he manages to wrangle it under control at the last second. Elayna takes the welcome distraction and begins to put some distance between herself and Tymon.

“Yes, well. The two of you are close.”

He makes it sound almost disgusting. Elayna glares at him. Still, she doesn't say anything, not wishing to draw his attention to her. Cerelle tilts her head. A perfectly curled ringlet of blonde hair falls into her face. 

“Elayna is not my keeper.” She sounds as if she wants to laugh.

“No, but you are Elayna's.” 

Cerelle raises an eyebrow. “Speak plainly. If you have an issue with my relationship with my ladies-in-waiting, say so and be done with it."

Tymon lifts both his hands in the air. He chuckles softly, a sly smirk making its way onto his face. 

“I meant no offense, dearest sister.” He lowers his hands. 

“I take offense to your actions, not your words.” Cerelle steps forward. Her gait remains surprisingly steady. Elayna knows, though. She sees the barely repressed anger and tense jaw, the way Cerelle clenches both her hands into fists for the briefest of seconds before clasping her hands in front of her, the flare of Cerelle's nostrils as she nearly stalks towards her brother. 

“My actions?”

“Yes. Your actions. Mother has made it explicitly clear you are not to be alone with Elayna. Yet you openly defy her and seek out Elayna when I am busy.”

Tymon swallows. Elayna sees his Adam's apple bob. She takes advantage of his surprise and almost scurries over to Cerelle. Cerelle seemingly doesn't react to her presence.

Tymon stares at his sister for a long moment. Cerelle stares evenly back at him, her steely gaze not dissimilar to Johanna’s. Tymon must make some sort of expression because after a long minute, Cerelle's brow furrows. She raises one eyebrow. The left side of her mouth lifts slightly, not quite into a sneer but certainly a scoff. Annoyance rolls off of Tymon. His hands clench into fists for a second before he thinks better of it.

“Very well.” Tymon tries to sound pleasant, as if he's truly deferring to his sister. The blazing storm in his eyes says otherwise. He bows his head. “I shall do as instructed. Do try to not hog all of my future wife's time.”

He turns on his heel and heads towards the other set of stairs. Elayna watches him from her place behind Cerelle. She waits until he disappears from sight to speak.

“Thank you.” Elayna murmurs. She tries to effuse her gratitude into every word. Cerelle tries to keep her steady gaze. Despite her efforts, her expression softens, the hard edges of her jaw easing and forehead relaxing. 

“I cannot rescue you all the time.”

“I know. I don't expect you too.”

Elayna steps forward. Cerelle does as well. 

“Mother wants to see us as well. After she talks to Tymon.”

Cerelle stands torn. Elayna sees it clear as day. Cerelle refuses to close the distance, but with each passing moment, her posture relaxes some. 

Elayna moves first. She steps closer to Cerelle, stopping two paces away. 

“I'm still mad at you.” Cerelle looks away as she speaks.

“I know. I made a mess of things.”

“I'm not going to forgive you easily.”

Elayna steps closer. She could reach out and touch Cerelle if she wants to but opts not to do so.

“How would you like me to apologize?” Elayna looks around for a second. The two of them are alone. “I've been told I have a silvertongue when it comes to apologies.”

Cerelle's stern exterior fully breaks. She blushes. Red rises from her neck to her cheeks.

“Elayna!” She hisses. “Not here.”

“Oh, I wouldn't dream of doing that here.”

Cerelle finally closes the distance between them. She reaches out and loops her arm through Elayna's. 

“We should get back to the feast.” Cerelle lightly traces a finger down Elayna's forearm. “If we don't, they'll come looking.”

“Whatever my Lady desires.”

The look on Cerelle's face sends a pleasant tingle along Elayna's spine. Cerelle hums. Elayna bites the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling victorious. Cerelle's expression no doubt means a delightful night lies ahead of them, one Elayna imagines many women only dream of happening to them. Her own eight and ten name day is still several moons away yet many ladies have taken to giving her womanly advice. She cannot bite or scratch for too much passion may scare her husband, and it is unseemly to mark him with her nails and teeth. He may mark her as he wishes, though. His pleasure must occur; some women say she can experience it while others say she must not. Do not get on top for he will get sick since to do so is an abomination and sin. He must never look at her nether region except for when he slides into her.

All the rules make her want to laugh. While she cannot say she has experience with men beyond a kiss, she doubts the rules. If they are true, men have weak constitutions.

Cerelle never complains about her being on top or whose pleasure comes before the others. Cerelle never cares if Elayna’s mouth finds its way to Cerelle's lips or clit. Truth be told, she seems to enjoy the act quite a lot. Cerelle does prefer Elayna not mark her; Elayna has no qualms about being marked so long as it isn't visible. 

Despite her gender, Elayna finds herself performing more husbandly duties than most men. The only rule existing between them is they must not break their maidenheads. It is the only thing their husbands may have before them. 

Elayna's greed knows no bounds; everything a husband could take is hers except for that one thing. The same goes for Cerelle. She owns everything except Elayna's maidenhead. Elayna can only dream of that happening.

“Perhaps I will need you tonight. I would like to spend time with my boon companion.”

“I am always at your service.”

They begin to walk towards the stairs. Cerelle's grip keeps Elayna close, as if she thinks Elayna would go far. Elayna would never. If she could, Elayna would chain herself to Cerelle. She would put a collar around her neck like a hound and hand Cerelle the lead. She wonders if it would surprise Cerelle but doubts it would; Elayna often kneels at Cerelle's feet and whines like a bitch in heat.

“Behave.” Cerelle squeezes Elayna's arm. Elayna starts. She gazes at Cerelle with wide eyes. 

 “I am!”

“Physically? Yes. Mentally?” Cerelle clicks her tongue. 

“Oh?” Elayna arches an eyebrow. “And where exactly did you learn to read minds?”

“I didn't. I just know yours well.” 

The two of them finally enter the turret. Elayna listens in case someone is coming up the stairs. She sees and hears no one. Before Cerelle can lead them down the stairs, Elayna maneuvers them towards the wall. As soon as Cerelle's back is against the stones, Elayna pounces.

Cerelle's lips slot against hers perfectly. Cerelle squeaks in surprise, which makes Elayna grin into the kiss. Cerelle quickly recovers. Elayna groans when Cerelle digs her fingers into Elayna’s hair. She avoids Elayna's intricate braids, instead opting for the thick, brown curly hair at the base of Elayna’s skull. Those strands of hair being messy can be explained away; her braids falling out of place can't be. Elayna braces herself. She places one forearm on the wall by Cerelle's head. Her other hand rests on the bodice of Cerelle's gown. She wants nothing more than to ruck up Cerelle's skirts and trace the creamy expanse of skin she knows lies under the red silk. Caution makes her stop. Fabrics wrinkle all too easily. 

Still, Elayna can only be cautious for so long. She inches her hand upward, fingers grazing the underside of Cerelle's breasts. The motion makes Cerelle stop. She digs her fingers hard into Elayna’s hair, her nails nearly digging into Elayna’s scalp. She pulls Elayna's head back. Elayna isn't sure if the sound escaping her mouth is from pleasure or pain. 

“No.” Cerelle's chest heaves. She doesn't look angry, despite her tone. “You aren't forgiven yet.”

Elayna pouts. 

“How am I to be forgiven if you won't give me a chance?”

“You have to earn forgiveness. Me giving you what you want will only reinforce your terrible behavior.” 

“You speak of me as a dog.” 

“Perhaps if you behaved, I wouldn't have to treat you like one.”

“I am not a dog.” Elayna huffs. Cerelle arches a perfect eyebrow. She lets go of Elayna’s hair.

“Oh? What are you then?”

“Is not a dog not enough?”

Cerelle snorts. Despite her derision, Elayna sees the fondness in Cerelle's expression.

“No. You are not a dog. They can be taught manners.” Cerelle hums. A devious smirk appears on her lips. “You're a kitten. You refuse to listen and learn, you act as if you're above the rules, and you believe if you want it, it is yours. However, you don't have the claws nor teeth to back your attitude up.”

Elayna stares at Cerelle, wide eyed. She opens her mouth in an attempt to respond, but no sound comes out. She feels hot, not just her face but her entire body. Her breath comes in short bursts. 

“I...”

“Yes?” Cerelle tilts her head. “You what?”

“You... you...”

“Is my kitten having trouble finding her words?” Cerelle grabs Elayna's chin and forces Elayna to look at her. “Answer me.”

“You're so... so mean.” Elayna whines. She tries to bury her face in the crook of Cerelle's neck to hide her embarrassment. Cerelle's grip on her chin prevents her from doing so. Cerelle clicks her tongue in mock sympathy, a direct contrast to the delight dancing in her blue eyes.

“Behave tonight, and I might just let you find out how mean I can really be.”

She lets go of Elayna’s chin. Her blue eyes meet Elayna’s hazel ones. Cerelle seeks reassurance, from the way she looks over Elayna to make sure what transpired is truly alright to the way she frowns when she sees the small red indentations from her nails on Elayna’s chin. Elayna smiles. She presses her forehead to Cerelle's. Both of them close their eyes. They stay still for a moment, breath falling into line with the other's.

“You promise?”

Elayna opens her eyes and grins. Cerelle's eyes fly open. She stares coolly at Elayna. Elayna tries her best not to laugh. 

“I would be careful if I were you.”

“But what if I want you to make me regret it?”

“Then you cannot complain later.”

The sound of footsteps makes both girls back away from each other. Cerelle smooths out the wrinkles in her dress with one hand while Elayna checks her hair. None of her braids appear to be loose. She tucks the small amount of hair Cerelle accidentally removed from the carefully done hairstyle and stuffs the ends as best she can into her braids and held up hair. The two look at each other. Elayna scans Cerelle and nods. Cerelle does the same for Elayna.

“Shall we join the others?” Elayna offers her arm to Cerelle.

“I think it best.”

In the whirlwind of the feast, Elayna forgets about having to speak with Johanna. She spends most of the night dancing and laughing. No one yet knows of her creeping fate; Elayna takes advantage of this fact. Truth be told, she refuses to imagine what her future looks like. Instead, she decides to enjoy the moment. 

The moment includes Elayna staying with Cerelle as the first night of festivities begin to wind down. They don't even bother to come up with an excuse if they're questioned; it's happened a million times before after a feast and will no doubt happen again. Everyone knows the two are inseparable. 

“Elayna.” Cerelle murmurs from the dark. They lay in bed together, Cerelle pressing up against Elayna from behind. One of her arms lightly rests over Elayna's hips.

“Yes?” 

“You have yet to make good on your promise and apologize to me. Properly.”

Elayna hums. She rolls over to face Cerelle. They both wait for a second.

“I suppose I can.”

*****************

“I don't want to marry Tymon.”

Elayna knows not the hour. She assumes early since the darkness seems almost oppressive. Elayna rests her head just underneath Cerelle's bare breasts. Cerelle sits mostly upright, lounging on some pillows. One of her hands rests on Elayna’s head, fingers gently intertwining into Elayna’s dark curls. 

“You must.” Cerelle gently scratches Elayna's scalp in a comforting gesture. A tinge of sadness colors Cerelle's tone, though. Elayna buries her face into Cerelle's soft curves. She takes a moment to find her words, tasting each one on her tongue. 

“He scares me, Cerelle. He scares me so much. I... I worry he means to harm me.”

Cerelle sighs. The bed creaks. Cerelle brings one hand down and places her fingers underneath Elayna's chin. She tilts Elayna's head up so she can look at her. 

“He would harm you if you were betrothed to another.” Cerelle speaks bluntly. She never minces words when it comes to important things. “I hope Mother and Father realize this. Perhaps this is their way of mitigating damage. If you don't marry, violence is inevitable. If you do marry, mayhaps it will be... limited.” 

“I doubt it.” Elayna frowns. She looks away into the darkness. Cerelle gives her that luxury. “He doesn't love me. He doesn't even like me. He just sees me as an object to own.”

“Most men see their wives like that.”

“I know that! But... I sometimes...”

“You sometimes what?” Impatience bleeds into Cerelle's tone. 

“It feels as if he sees me as little more than a broodmare for prized horses.” 

Cerelle doesn't say anything. She neither confirms nor denies Elayna's accusations. Instead, she takes a strand of Elayna’s hair between her fingers and gently plays with it. Elayna lowers her head. She shuffles up the bed some, intent on placing her head on Cerelle's chest to hear her heart beat.

“I can't save you all the time.”

“I'm not asking that of you.” Elayna huffs. “I can rescue myself if need be. I'm just... I'm frightened, Cerelle.” 

Elayna's whole body trembles. Cerelle shushes her. She places her hand back on Elayna’s head. Elayna tries to relax into Cerelle's embrace; her body refuses to obey her commands. Every part of her tenses. Cerelle sighs. The sheets shift, a whisper of silk, as Cerelle reaches down with her free hand and takes Elayna's hand in her own. 

Elayna waits for Cerelle to say something, anything. She waits for words of comfort. Cerelle stays silent for an uncomfortably long time. Eventually, Cerelle sits up some and presses a kiss to the top of Elayna’s head. 

“Go to sleep, Elayna. We can talk about these matters in the morning.”

****************

Johanna calls for them after breakfast.

Thankfully, the two of them were already decent. Three years of practice means their timing is down to an art. No one ever expresses any suspicion.

“Cerelle. Elayna.” Johanna looks between the two of them. The pair sit opposite Johanna. Elayna’s back stands ramrod straight while Cerelle almost leans back in her chair. “ ‘Tis time to begin looking at the future. The Lord Lannister and I have discussed this, and we have come up with a plan.”

Elayna and Cerelle exchange a look. Elayna raises an eyebrow to which Cerelle blinks. Johanna watches them.

“One of Princess Helaena's ladies-in-waiting injured herself badly, to the point she must retire and go back to her family. Truly a shame what happened to her. Rumors are she is now a cripple. Despite how unfortunate this is, a princess should never be without.” Johanna meets Cerelle's eyes. “I have arranged for you to be one of Princess Helaena's ladies-in-waiting. She needs someone more confident than she, and I know you will serve her faithfully. Elayna, of course, will follow as one of your ladies.”

“We're going to King's Landing?” Cerelle grins. She looks to Elayna, eyes glittering with hope. Elayna grins softly in return.

“Yes.” Johanna nods. “Even though you are one of the Princess's ladies, I do expect you to spend time with your uncle. He will be able to provide valuable instruction. Your father would have sent you earlier, but now I believe you will be able to fully grasp any advice given to you.” Johanna turns her attention to Elayna. Elayna almost wants to shrink back. “You, of course, will ensure Cerelle's comfort and safety. I also think it would behoove you to accompany her when she visits with Tyland. You may learn things as well.”

“Of course.”

“Good.” Johanna places her hands in her lap. “Cerelle. You're dismissed. I wish Elayna to sit with me a while.”

Cerelle and Elayna exchange looks. Elayna doesn't move, even as Cerelle does. 

“Mother.”

“Cerelle.”

Cerelle takes her leave then. Elayna adjusts her position in her chair. 

“Tymon spoke with me.” Elayna watches Johanna. Before she takes a sip, Johanna indicates with a gesture for Elayna to be poured a goblet.

“Did he?”

“He said you spoke to him about a betrothal. Of him and me.” Elayna tries her best not to pout or look too sullen. 

“Your father will accompany us when we go to King's Landing. Jason or I will suggest the idea then.”

Elayna frowns. She leans back in her seat. Johanna sets her goblet down. 

“Elinor. If you would leave us.”

The servant curtsies before leaving. Elayna waits to hear the soft close of the doorway to the servant's quarters. Johanna eyes Elayna. Her hands rest in her lap. 

“Do you not wish to marry Tymon?” 

“ ‘Tis not that! I'm just... I don't mean to question you, but I do not see how I am the appropriate choice.”

“Tymon will need someone who can reign him in once he is in charge. Someone practical who knows the ins and outs of this place.” Johanna takes a drink from her goblet. Elayna tries not to fidget and keep her hands still. “Even if he were not set on you, you are the best choice. Whether you recognize it or not, you are everything but a Lannister in name. ‘Tis time that changes.”

Elayna purses her lips. She bites down on her tongue to keep herself from saying the immediate thought in her mind. Truthfully, she does not want this marriage; she wants no marriage as of now. It is inevitable, she knows. Elayna is acutely aware of this fact. It doesn't ease her mind on the topic. 

Johanna stares Elayna down once more. Eventually, she places her goblet down with a sigh.

“ ‘Tis time for you to grow up.” Elayna nearly flinches at Johanna’s steely tone. “I know of you and my daughter. I have... indulged you both and kept your secret, but it cannot go on any longer. You both have your duties. I will not let our reputation be tarnished because you refuse to give up antics more suited to young girls. Indiscretions like this do not go on for several years nor do they go as far as it has. The time for that is over.” 

Elayna trembles. Fear courses through her body.

“I understand, my Lady. Forgive me.”

“I keep this quiet not for you but for Cerelle.” Johanna’s nostrils flare. “I do not agree with what the two of you have done in the slightest. I recognize the impulse, but it cannot continue.”

Elayna dips her head. She feels frozen, stuck to her chair even though she wants nothing more than to run. Johanna clearly sees it. She leans forward and places a hand on Elayna’s knee.

“If you were a man, it would be done. Cerelle deserves a loyal husband. I meant it when I said you were one of us.” Johanna’s voice softens for the briefest of moments. When she pushes back to her full height, the harshness returns. “But you are not a man. It can't continue.”

“It can't. It won't continue.” The words taste bitter. 

Johanna leans back in her seat. She picks up her goblet again. 

“Good. To prove your commitment and to show you keep your word, you have a task. You are to target Prince Aemond. Find out what he likes, what he dislikes. Learn everything you can about him. Then, you will feed this information to Cerelle. I can't ask for a betrothal outright. The future is too uncertain. I can, however, obtain it other ways. When you come back, you will be betrothed to Tymon and marry him.”

Elayna nods.

“Are we in agreement?”

“Yes.”

“Look me in the eyes when you say it.”

Elayna blinks back tears. She clears her throat and poorly suppresses a sniffle. She inhales. 

Lifting her head is the hardest thing she's ever done. 

“We are in agreement.”

Johanna smiles. It doesn't meet her eyes; it's a socially expected smile. Her lips stay too close together, and her eyes blaze.

“Excellent. You are dismissed.”

“He touched you.” Aemond counters. He glares up at her, jaw clenched. Elayna merely tilts her head in appraisal. 

“He did. But he was not untoward, ‘twas a simple elbow touch.”

Aemond grunts. His hands find the chain of the manacles keeping him to the bedpost, tugging at it. He glowers at her. He hates to admit she tricked him; he makes a mental note to get her back for this. 

She lured him into her chambers with the false promises. He followed. Aemond didn't think too much of him being undressed but not her, not when she sank to her knees in front of him. He didn't think it a trap until she had stood back up and unceremoniously pushed him down. The sheer surprise gave her the edge, so she was able to pin him down and get one of his wrists in one cuff. The second had been more of a fight, one he nearly won. 

Aemond refuses to admit it, but he lost because the bodice of Elayna’s dress slipped down. He half wonders if she didn't do it on purpose. 

Elayna grabs his chin. Aemond downright scowls. Agitation build within him, agitation only made worse by the fact his body responds without his consent. He has no idea if his erection is in response to Elayna in his lap or the adrenaline from the fight. Aemond tries to buck Elayna off him, but it only serves to worse the situation for him. The movement means he slides against her small clothes. He can feel how they've begun to cling to Elayna’s center. Elayna gasps. Her hips rock against his in response.

“Aemond.” Elayna tries to regain control of the situation. “You had no right!”

“You act as if you prefer his company to mine.”

He wants a reaction, needs a reaction. Elayna pauses. She stares down at him with an almost astonished expression. After a second, she giggles. She giggles at him. 

“Aemond.” Elayna leans forward, placing her forehead against his. “Am I with him now? Or am I with you?”

Before he can say anything sharp or cutting, she kisses him. Aemond responds without thinking. One of her hands comes up to his hair, resting lightly there. She rocks her hips, and he moves his. Elayna gasps into the kiss. The rocking turns into Elayna grinding herself upon him while Aemond chases after her. Each roll of his hips rubs him against her small clothes. The friction provides some relief, but not what he so desperately craves.

Seven above, he wants nothing more than for Elayna to uncuff him. Aemond wants to grab Elayna and flip them over so she's underneath him. He wants to sink inside her in one smooth motion and fuck her until everyone knows she's his. It drives him mad she refuses him in public yet in private this is how they are. 

Would he have his way, they would be married in a moon's time and her carrying his child not long after that. 

His awareness comes back when Elayna shifts on top of him. She reaches underneath her skirts. Aemond props himself up to see, to get a glimpse, but the fabric obscures his view. His breath hitches when her hand brushes against him. Elayna doesn't take him in hand, though. Instead, she pushes the fabric just enough to the side his cock can settle between her lips.

The next roll of her hips makes both of them groan. Aemond digs his nails into his palms. This is so close to what he wants yet so tantalizing far away. Elayna lets out a breathy sigh.

She sits up and begins truly moving. Without him inside of her, Elayna doesn't move up and down but instead grinds against him. Aemond looks up at her. When she throws her head back, he wants to run his tongue and lips along the column of her neck. He plants his feet in order to get closer to her. He feels how wet and warm she is, and Aemond tries to buck his hips so he'll slip inside her. For a second, he thinks it might happen, the tip almost pushing into her. The next motion of her hips moves her away from him, and he nearly curses. If she notices, she doesn't say anything.

"Aemond, I'm... I'm close." She nearly whimpers. His name sounds like a prayer on her lips. "Want you to come with me."

Fuck. His abdomen flexes and tightens. Her request makes his cock throb, and he knows she feels it by the way she whimpers. He moves in earnest now, trying to push both of them there.

Aemond comes when he sees her do so, head thrown back in ecstacy. His whole body relaxes as Elayna lowers herself onto her forearms.

“Is this all it ta- oh!”

Aemond shifts his head. The motion makes his nose bump against her clit, causing her to let out another gasp and lose her train of thought. She feels him smirk against her. Elayna bites the inside of her cheek. She won't give him the satisfaction of a comment. When she tries to push back and pull away some, Aemond uses his grip on her thighs to press her closer together. 

To think he'd been almost disgusted when she suggested this initially. 

Now, Aemond fucks her with his tongue as if he wants to do nothing else with his life. His nose presses against her clit, making her toes curl and hips move of their own accord. If she's suffocating him, he gives no indication. He moves his head from side to side, and Elayna moans. Her thighs tremble on either side of his head.

“Okay, okay, you made your point.”

Elayna manages to get this taunt out before he tries to cut her off again. He's enjoying this far too much. She huffs. For a second, she considers pulling away, but then he curls his tongue.

Her head falls forward, forehead pressing against the wall. She can't help grinding down against his face now, and he rewards her by repeating the action. Elayna almost whines. 

Well. It wasn't exactly as if you had a choice in the matter. You had been sent to King's Landing as part of a wedding gift from Tyland and Jason's younger brother, Tymon. At least, that was your understanding until Lord Tymon approached you the night before you were set to leave.

“I understand you might be upset at this turn of events.” Tymon stands up. He paces towards you. “But. I have no one else I can turn to.”

You try to keep your face blank and the picture of civility.

“Don't.” Tymon nearly coos. It sends a strange sort of shiver up your spine. “I would be upset too. I just...” He pauses. “You have always been a good and faithful servant to us, and this is sensitive. So sensitive I cannot ask this of anyone else.” He gives you an imploring look.

“What is it, Ser?” You have a sinking feeling in your gut.

"I have one thing to ask of you." Tymon places his finger under your chin. He lifts your chin up so you look him in the eye. "It's simple."

Your heart beat thunders in your chest. "What is it, ser?"

"Before I tell you, you must promise not to tell anyone." He nearly purrs. A brief, dark look crosses over his face. "The reputation of my family may be at stake."

"Of course."

"I need you to keep an eye on the future Lady Lannister. Not for my sake but for my brother's sake."

You knit your brow in confusion.

"I'm not sure I understand, Ser."

"Of course you wouldn't." Tymon pats your cheek. "You're loyal." He steps even closer to you. His green eyes almost sparkle. "You know my brother, Tyland? He's... dull, which means he's never been subject to a lady's schemes. I fear my old friend may be trying to use my older brother. I'm not sure if it's for money or wealth or fame. I find I cannot trust her intentions. So. I need you to make sure she does not take advantage of him." Tymon tilts his head. "It would be his first heartbreak, and I wish to spare him the same sort of pain she caused me."

Your breath catches in your throat.

"Did she break your heart?"

He nods. "Yes, she was to be my betrothed. Instead of staying true, she ran off to King's Landing where she met my brother. At first I thought she chose him because of a perceived slight, but I'm beginning to think she's using him. She's good friends with Prince Aemond. I..." Tymon pauses. He presses his lips together. "I shouldn't say what I'm thinking. She is to be family."

You frown despite yourself. He does seem betrayed, a level of hurt lurking beneath the surface you've felt before.

"You want to spare your brother the heart ache." You echo his earlier words. Tymon slowly smiles.

"You understand me."

You were to spy. The thought did not sit well with you, but what choice did you have in the matter? Surely, if you were to spy, other maids might be there to spy on you as well.

It doesn't help you like Lady Elayna. At first, you are hesitant to meet her. Lannisters never seemed to go for truly nice women. Elayna is different. She does not treat you with indifference or act as if you are invisible. She does not treat you with cruelty either. She is... nice in a genuine way.

It almost feels like a betrayal knowing you are to spy on her. Eventually, you try to forget those were your directives at all.

The memory weighs on your mind every time you watch Elayna interact with the middle Prince. The two were close, no one could deny that. Yet you did not think she was being unfaithful. Both Tyland and Prince Aemond seemed constant fixtures in her life.

Every morning, Elayna get ups and goes to the Sept first thing. She dresses herself but has you do her hair in a simple braid. Most mornings, she goes by herself, but others Tyland waits at her door to escort her.

While Elayna is at the Sept, you arr given an odd task. Every morning, whether it was when he came to escort Elayna to the Sept or when she was at her prayers, Tyland comes by her rooms. He informs you of the outfits Elayna was to wear that day, down to the jewelry.

At first you think it odd, but you never question it. Part of why you didn't was simply because Elayna did not seem to mind. Another part of you wonders. Tyland Lannister has a reputation as a boring, dull man. Picking out his wife's clothes every day doesn't seem like the trait of a boring man.

After her prayers, you dress Elayna in the first chosen outfit. She then goes to watch Prince Aemond spar. You and another maid clean Elayna’s room. If you finish everything an hour before noon, you have a break. Every day, an hour before lunch, Elayna comes back to her rooms. You dress her in the second outfit of the day. She then goes to lunch with her betrothed. About mid-afternoon she changes once more for whatever event she had in the evening. At this point, she lets you go.

“I won't keep you up all night.” She explains.

You notice other odd things. For starters, every time Elayna sees Prince Aemond in the afternoon, she comes back without her necklace on. Lord Tyland is adamant Elayna wear a gold necklace every day. Some of the necklaces look more like a collar in your opinion. You never say anything.

Those necklaces always go missing by the end of the day.

Roella, the other main maid of Lady Elayna's, tells you her theories. She tends to Elayna at night. Most of the time you don't lend credence to what she says. You honestly doubt Prince Aemond could be in Elayna’s room and suddenly disappear when Roella came by.

Eventually, your curiosity gets the better of you. You and Roella, along with some of the other maids, are deep cleaning Elayna’s room. It is a little over a moon's time before Elayna is to be married, and her family is going to be here soon. You and Roella stand at a large basin of water, cleaning Elayna’s sheets.

“Are... are the Prince and Lady Elayna as close as the rumors say?” You keep your gaze cast down. A particular spot on the silk sheets catches your interest.

Roella snorts.

"Oh, they've been fucking. It's a secret to them higher folk, but us maids know. You'll know soon enough." She waggles her eyebrows.

You frown.

"What do you mean the higher folk don't know?" You question. Roella snorts.

"Everyone thinks they are, but no one can provide evidence. Even Larys can't make anything stick, and he can sniff out shit faster than a pig."

A couple other maids titter.

"We'll know once she has a babe. I'd wager money they'll come out with silver hair." Someone says.

"So? Tyland is blond. Depending on how light the babe's hair is, they might pass."

"I heard her future husband is in on it and that's why it doesn't stay." Another maid, Sarae you think, chimes in. "Would explain a lot."

"Oh, now you're just talkin' nonsense. That's just as likely as them who says Elayna gave ol' Clubfoot a foot job for his silence."

"It's true! You remember Marissa? She supposedly went to Ser Tyland and suddenly! She was Aegon's maid. Her Majesty gave Marissa the boot within three moons."

Some of the maids shudder. You give Roella an inquiring look. She shakes her head.

"Be careful 'round Aegon. He's got an appetite on him. Ain't exactly polite about it neither." She begins pulling the sheets out of the soapy water. "Lady Elayna will protect you. I think she's been waiting for a chance to have a go at 'im."

The gossip turns to other subjects. You can't help being stuck on this one. So far, Elayna seemed the picture of a lady. She certainly didn't seem like the type to do such a thing. She had her mischievous streak, but she was still young.

Roella's words turn out to be a prophecy. You did know not too long after.

Soft noises come from within the Small Council's chamber. You frown. Everyone should be at the festivities. It was Aegon's name day, and while people had differing opinions about the Prince, everyone knew a party in his name would include much debauchery. You saw everyone on the Council downstairs, and you know the doors are often locked to prevent people from sneaking in during events like this.

You inch towards the heavy doors. It's sheerly curiosity getting the better of you.

A low moan comes from between the heavy wooden doors. Soon, a satisfied yet mischievous feminine laugh follows. You stop dead in your tracks. Even though you haven't seen anything, your eyes grow wide.

It must be Aegon in there, surely it is just Aegon in there with some noble lady who thinks she might curry favor. You try to make your feet move. You aren't sure why, but you can't seem to move. Maybe... maybe it's because the laugh somehow seems familiar.

"Oh." A gasp cuts through the air. "My King!"

You stare at the doors in amazement and fear. The voice was absolutely Elayna’s, that much was clear. You had thought Tymon had been lying to you, trying to make you paranoid and fear Elayna, but it truly seems as if she might be disgracing his elder brother by laying with another man. You bite your bottom lip. Surely. Surely it wasn't with Aegon? She seemed to barely tolerate him.

Your feet move suddenly and of their own volition. Oh. You know. You know you should not peek to see. Elayna would never forgive you if she felt you had betrayed her trust, but you have to know. You have to see exactly who it is. You creep towards the doors.

What you see through the cracks takes you by surprise.

Elayna lays on the table, her skirts bunched at her waist. You do see silver hair between her legs, just as you feared, but it is not Aegon's short curls. Instead, Aemond's long hair gleams in the moonlight. It's mussed, no doubt from Elayna keeping Aemond's head pressed to her center. Aemond's right arm moves. You can see his bicep flex with small movements, but his right forearm flexes the most. You can't see his fingers since they disappear in front of him. You don't need to, not with the noises falling from Elayna’s mouth and the slick sounds of her arousal echoing in the room.

Shame tries to take hold of your body. You can't move. You're mesmerized by the sight in front of you. Aemond brings his left hand up from under Elayna's thigh. He places it up on top of her leg. Elayna sits up some. She reaches out and takes hold of his free hand. She leans on her left elbow more to compensate. Her breasts threaten to spill out from her dress. Elayna attempts several times to thread her fingers through Aemond's. Whatever he is doing with his mouth and opposite hand must be extraordinary because Elayna's whole body shakes.

"Aemond." She whines.

The sounds stop abruptly. Aemond pulls back. Is it just your imagination, or can you actually see strands of Elayna’s arousal on his mouth? Your heart beats loudly against your chest.

" 'Tis not my name tonight." Aemond's voice is low. The fingers on Elayna’s thigh tap on her skin with barely restrained displeasure.

"My King." Elayna presses herself fully up to sitting. It takes her several tries. Aemond outright smirks.

Could he... could he do that to you? Could he render you that immobile from pleasure? Certainly just watching him makes it seem that he can.

"My King." Elayna's chest heaves. She sits fully upright now. "My King, I just wanted to hold your hand."

"And what makes you think you deserve that?" Despite being on his knees, Aemond clearly holds all the power. Elayna arches an eyebrow. Her attempt at imperiousness falls flat with how flustered she clearly is.

"I clearly did enough to deserve your mouth. I don't see why I should do more just to hold your ha-"

A loud, wet smack sounds. You jump at it, placing both your hands over your chest. Elayna nearly comes up off the table. Aemond slowly stands up. The two of them stare at each other.

"I will not tolerate insolence tonight." Aemond murmurs. His hands grip the edge of the table, knuckles going white. You find yourself breathing as hard as Elayna is. It almost feels as if your breathes are in sync with hers.

"I'm sorry, My King." Elayna pushes towards him.

"Yes, you tend to be sorry when I smack your greedy cunt."

You barely stop your jaw from falling to the floor. You wouldn't have expected Aemond to talk like that. Certainly, you didn't expect for him to sound so confident and domineering. Your pulse races throughout your entire body like wildfire. Carefully, you inch closer.

"I truly did not mean to be a brat, My King." Elayna looks up at him from underneath her eyelashes. Aemond snorts derisively.

"And yet you were."

Despite his cold tone, you can see Aemond move to unlace his britches. Elayna lets her gaze drop to the movement of his hands. She swallows.

"Do you think you deserve this cock?" Aemond's whole arm moves now, a slow steady motion. It sets your whole body ablaze and your brain spinning. Elayna nods fervently. "Beg for it, then."

"Please, my King. I want it." Elayna bats her eyelashes. She tries to place her calves around Aemond's waist. Aemond takes hold of both her calves and pushes them up and back towards her.

"You said you weren't going to be a brat." His voice is iron and steel. Desire pools in your stomach. Without realize it, you palm one of your breasts over your shift. The other drops down slowly.

" 'm sorry!" Elayna nearly whines. To see the normally proud Elayna reduced to this state makes you pulse around nothing. Aemond makes a sound as if he doesn't believe her. "Please. Please my King. I want your cock, need your cock."

Elayna’s begging goes straight to your head. You move your hand further down so you can press the heel of your palm against your public bone. You nearly paw at your own breast.

The more you listen, the wetter you get. You don't even register what you're doing until your hand has dipped beneath your skirts and small clothes.

"I'm not sure you deserve it." Aemond murmurs. Elayna outright whines.

“I do! I've been good!”

You circle your clit. Fuck. You know you shouldn't be doing this, but you can't help it. Your breath catches in your throat at the same time Elayna’s does. You see Aemond take hold of both of Elayna’s thighs and press them towards her body. For a second, it looks as if he might push her fully down onto the table. He doesn't. Instead, much to your surprise, Elayna’s ankles end up braced on his shoulders.

Pure lust races through your body. You slip one finger inside of you. You watch with baited breath. Aemond and Elayna moan and sigh at the same time. Elayna's hands wrap themselves around the back of Aemond's neck.

For a minute, all you can see is them. Aemond thrusts into Elayna. At first, it seems controlled. Eventually he loses his composure. His hair almost bounces with each movement of his hips. Elayna's thigh jiggle with each smack of Aemond's hips. Her fingers go from just resting on the nape of his neck to clawing his back. They're both still fully clothed, so all she manages to do is wrinkle his shirt.

The table squeaks with each harsh thrust. Elayna openly moans. You try to keep rhythm with Aemond, to use the sound of the table to keep time, but it's difficult. Eventually, you give up and keep your own pace with your fingers. You can tell they're whispering to each other, but you can't make out what they're saying. You don't think you could even if your blood wasn't pounding in your ears.

Elayna's punched out moans and Aemond's grunts make you wetter and wetter. It sounds like a perfect harmony. You try to curl your fingers just right. You have to slide down the door some in order to get a better angle. You look through the gap in the door again to see what exactly they're doing to each other.

Over Aemond's shoulder, you notice. Your blood goes from boiling to freezing with a matter of seconds. Elayna is looking at you.

She sees you.

Her kiss-bruised lips curl into a predatory expression. Your eyes widen in fear. Quickly, you pull your fingers out of yourself. The squelch is embarrassing, adding even more humiliation to the moment. You begin to stumble away, trying not to knock into anything as you walk backwards. Your pulse now thunders with fear. When you look up, you see Elayna's lips by Aemond's ear.

Cerelle and Floris stand as well. Cerelle smiles softly and dips her head. Her gown is a beautiful red, golden lions embroided on it. She carries herself in the self-assured manner Elayna knows and respects.

Floris wears the same shade of red. Iron threads create the pattern of a windstorm. Yellow gold leaves cascade from the iron trees and float on the breeze. Her hands fidget. She tries to hide her nerves by tucking her hands behind the folds of her skirt.

Elayna steps towards Floris. Carefully, she reaches out and takes Floris’s hands in her own.

“Follow Cerelle's lead. She won’t lead you astray.”

Floris closes her eyes before nodding.

“I’ve... I've never done this before. This is more Maris or Cassandra's realm.” Floris murmurs. Cerelle reaches out and places a gentle hand on Floris’s shoulder.

“ ‘Tis to send a message. Surely your Lord father would agree with that.” Cerelle manages to make every word coming out of her mouth the sweetest of honey. Elayna appreciates it. She knows the sharp sting of the Lannister's tongue.

“Yours is the Fury.” Elayna reminds Floris. “Fury need not come from bloodshed. It can come from action alone.”

Floris nods. She takes a deep breath. Her spine lengthens and straightens. When she opens her eyes, determination gleams in them, determination and anger, a spite Elayna can taste.

“I have this.”

Elayna releases Floris’s arms. Cerelle drops her hand and offers Floris her arm.

“We must go. We can't be late.”

As the two take their leave, Elayna turns to her handmaids.

“I'm ready.”

As her handmaids dress her, Elayna lets Aemond's words sit on her tongue. She feeds off the pain. Aemond promised her to be faithful and true, told her he loved her and no one else, threatened to burn the world if it would make her happy. Elayna believed him. She promised the same to him in return.

He could not have meant it if all it took was a bastard Strong to make him, her husband, go back on his words.

Tears threatened to form. Elayna blinks and squashes them down. She cried the first night after learning about Alys. She gave herself one night to cry herself to sleep. In the morning, she vowed to the Gods she would never cry over that man again. He didn't deserve her tears or her sorrow. All he deserves is her calculated rage.

Her fury burns hotter than any dragon fire ever could, but it does not harm her. She isn't alight with it. Elayna made herself an ice block as frigid as the Wall. Well. Aemond did the moment he decided to sleep with Alys.

He has no one to blame but himself.

When Elayna finishes being dressed and looks in the mirror, her heart skips a beat. The woman staring back at her is different.

The woman staring back at her is both the woman she feared to become and the woman she was destined to be.

Her ruby red dress is beautiful. Massive silver lions, all in the shape and form of her family’s sigil, decorate the dress. The rubies in her silver hair piece compliment her garment perfectly. Silver dangles from her ears. A silver torque in the shape of a lion rests around her neck. The eyes were not the sapphires people had become accustomed to but rubies. Each lion holds a small ruby within its mouth. In the right light, the gems seem like blood.

Elayna gazes at her reflection. Were it not for her brown hair and eyes, she would think the woman in the mirror a Lannister. The steely and calculated look on her face is one she used to be repulsed by. Now, she finds an odd sense of comfort in it. She is impenetrable, as impenetrable as the Wall or Casterly Rock.

She keeps this image in her head as she leaves and heads to the feast. Aemond is no doubt already there. He never arrives late. She knows he'll be trapped there until she makes an appearance. After all, he must be seen with his wife to dispel the rumors and accusations flung his way.

As Elayna rounds one of the last corners towards the Great Hall, she stops.

Despite her resolution, she nearly cries.

Tyland stands at the end of the corridor, waiting for her. He looks up at her and smiles.

He's wearing red as well. His gold chain stayed, but he switched his green doublet for red. It's Lannister red with gold threading. Elayna doesn't care; the colors and look are plausible deniability for him. She knows what it means.

“Ser Tyland.”

“Lady Elayna.”

Elayna steps forward. Tyland moves away from the wall towards her. Elayna doesn't miss the brief flash of want and lust on his face before he catches himself. A slight blush colors his cheeks when his eyes meet hers.

“We seem to have had the same thought tonight.” Elayna murmurs. She steps closer to him. She feels drawn to him. He clearly feels the same, copying her movements.

“It appears so.”

She stops just in front of him. Tyland tries his best to not look at Elayna’s lips.

“Or are you matching Cerelle? Family is important.”

“No.” Tyland breathes. “I followed a whim is all.”

The unsaid “I know you. I knew what you'd do” lingers in the air. Elayna swallows. She gazes into Tyland’s eyes.

“What do you propose we do about this? I cannot change. I am late as is. Nor do I wish you to change.”

“I'll go first. A lady must have her own entrance.”

They breathe in sync. Elayna's tongue darts out to wet her suddenly dry lips.

“I appreciate your thoughtfulness. You've always been considerate.”

“ ‘Tis the least I can do. We lions must stick together.” Tyland feels so close even though he hasn't moved. Elayna swears his heart matches the rhythm of hers.

“A pride is stronger together.”

Elayna fights to keep her face neutral. Her insinuation makes Tyland’s eyes go wide for a second. She tries not to smirk. Tyland clears his throat loudly.

“We are no doubt late.”

“Go. I need a moment.”

Tyland nods. He doesn't move just yet. Instead, he looks both ways. Upon seeing no one else, Tyland surprises Elayna. He takes hold of her hand. He keeps eye contact with her as he brings her hand to his lips and kisses the back of her hand. Elayna nearly chokes. Tyland let's his lips linger for a moment before stepping back and letting go of her hand.

“Lady Elayna.” He bows his head.

“Ser Tyland.”

Tyland disappears down the corridor. Elayna waits until he's gone before she leans against the wall. Her heart beats not just in her chest but throughout her entire abdomen. She takes several deep breathes to try and steady herself. Elayna closes her eyes. She hasn't felt such a tenderness or want in a long time. Certainly, she hasn't felt it in the last eight months. She cannot recall the last time Aemond touched her with such reverence. He could be gentle, yes, but he never...

Not like that. He never treated her like that.

Elayna gives herself a minute to collect herself. Once she steps away from the wall, she smooths out her dress and makes her way to the Hall. The guards part for her and open the heavy oak doors.

“Announcing Lady Elayna Targaryen.”

Elayna lifts her head and steps into the Hall.

The silence seems to stretch on for far too long. People slowly stand as she passes. Elayna pays them no mind; she keeps her eyes trained on her seat. She can look for clusters of red when she sits down.

Elayna finally looks at Aemond when she gets halfway down the aisle.

He looks angrier than she's ever seen him. His hands curl around his knife to the point his knuckles are clearly white, even from a distance. Elayna sees Aegon smirking out of the corner of her eye.

Aemond's lone eye meets hers. Despite the rage present, an obvious sadness lurks. It swims to the forefront when his gaze meets hers. Elayna responds by lifting her chin even higher.

He deserves this. Aemond did not act as a husband should. He cheated on her for a bastard of a sworn enemy.