closed starter for @traegedys, @steelfyre, @sacrificeds
The noise of the festivities remained subdued behind the Hatchling of Castamere; who instead found interest among the various trees and bushes of berries. Aelora knelt carefully amongst the rows, plucking the best raspberries, gooseberries, and blackberries her violet gaze could find. Her dark green dress blending in with the thickets of leaves, while her Targaryen silver hair set her apart like a lone star in the night sky.
Ā As she filled the wicker basket one of the servants at the outdoor kitchens had provided her, she imagined the sweet and flaky taste of jam tarts so vividly it made her stomach grumble. She was guilty, as a child, of stealing more jam tarts than what was properly divided amongst whatever siblings happened to be in residence at the time. Aelora didnāt know what they were making in the kitchens with all this fresh fruit, but she was determined (if it happened to be jam tarts) to be more diplomatic in sharing dessert this time.
āOuch-!ā A sharp pinch from a blackberry bush made her recoil and she squinted at the droplet of blood that appeared, quickly wiping at the skirt of her dress and squeezing till her knuckles turned white, āDamn thornsā¦ā Aelora murmured, wondering why only the blackberries were clever enough to armour themselves from hungry passersby.










