For almost her entire life, Daella Targaryen has lived as Mellara Rivers, the bastard daughter of Arnold Arryn and cupbearer of Lady Jeyne Arryn. First and trueborn daughter of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daella had but slight contact with her fami...
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T H I R T E E N
You're not who you are to anyone, to anyone these days I'm not who I am to anyone, no, not me at all ─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Daella and Helaena were walking with their arms linked together and two knights following them out of Maegor's Holdfast, crossing the training yard where the clashes of steel against steel could be heard. Daella halted and turned to look to the side, her eyes falling on Aemond's frame as he smoothly ducked and avoided being hit in the temple by a training sword from the Master-at-arms, ser Criston Cole.
Helaena stopped as well, her eyes gliding from Daella to Aemond, and letting out a soft giggle, she dragged Daella to the circle of lords that was looking at Prince Aemond. Uttering soft apologies, Helaena made sure they got the finest view and Daella gave the woman a knowing glance. Her blue eyes shifted back to Aemond, who held his sword to ser Cole's throat and walked around his axis in triumph.
"Did you not say that you trained in swordfight at the Eyrie too?" Helaena asked softly.
Daella hummed and nodded in confirmation, her eyes still plastered on Aemond as he and ser Cole started another round. She thought it was rather unfair that her uncle was gifted with the ability to move so gracefully and she could feel her heart flutter as they made sudden eye contact. Daella looked away quickly, not wanting to grant Prince Aemond the satisfaction of catching her staring at him, but the damage was already done.
Aemond turned his back on ser Cole and pressed the tip of his weapon into the ground. He was regarding her cooly, a teasing smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Have you, at last, come to train, my niece?"
Clenching her jaws at the notice of Aemond's comment earning her a lot of unwanted and confused stares from the lords surrounding them, Daella tried to cover it up with a polite smile. "I am obviously not dressed for the occasion," she said, pointing at the heavy gown she was wearing. "Nor have I practised in almost a moon's time."
"Do you think you will find the time to change into different garments when you need to defend yourself?" Aemond asked, a soft hum of question escaping his mouth as he tilted his head.
"Go on," Helaena encouraged her genuinely, pulling back her arm and giving her a gentle nudge in the direction of the training yard. The difference between her and Aemond's words was that hers were unpretentious, and his mocking. "Show them what you are made of, sister."
Giving in begrudgingly, Daella stepped into the circle and walked in the direction of the weapon table. Ignoring the rise of offended whispers around her, she grabbed a sword and tested the weight distribution in her hand. The training swords at the Eyrie were obviously lighter, but she supposed it would have to do for now and looking down at the long skirts of her dress awkwardly, she walked in Aemond's direction. When she lifted her head again, she noticed that ser Cole had taken his place, a menacing grin on his face.
