010. The Great Stag

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Naenya watched the storms ravage against the glass panes of the castle. Such storms only left the strong standing, taking everything weak into its grasp and tearing it apart. The castle of House Baratheon was indeed a strong thing. 

As Naenya stared deeper into the storm, she was reminded that she was also a strong thing. Despite the storms' darkness masking the abyss-coloured scales, Naenya could spot her dragon from anywhere. The wild green eyes bore into her from a nearby rock cliff, which was being washed by the rainfall. Such intense storms seemed to pull Cannibal's more protective nature out of him. Even within the eye of the storm, Naenya held power none of the weather-hardened Baratheons could ever dream of.

"Princess Enya,"

Naenya broke her stare with Cannibal, turning to see Elden Baratheon standing before her. The smell of the feast still lingered on him, though another smell wrapped around Elden and reached towards her. The scent was warm and earthly, with a distinct hint of dew. He almost reminded her of early spring at Dragonstone. The familiar scent wrapped around such an unfamiliar man left her stomach turning. 

"Lord Elden," Naenya greeted.

Turning her gaze back to the window, Cannibal's eyes were nowhere to be seen. 

"I had assumed you'd gone to bed," Elden spoke, watching Naenya with his signature stupid grin, "That's what you told Lord Baratheon, at least,"

"I did, didn't I?" Naenya hummed, taking a second to pause before shrugging her shoulders. 

Elden let out a short chuckle, shoving his hands into his dress pants as he walked up to her, "I can show you around our great Storms End if you like. Or you can return to the feast?"

Elden's eyes raked over Naenya's face, searching for the reaction he was trying to pull out of her. Naenya had spent months practising the skills that made a good Queen. She had slowly developed the skills required to come off as calm and collected, the talent of reducing one's expressions to a hardly noticeable twitch of the eyebrow or slight clench of a fist. The ability to appear unreadable to others was something Naenya had little skill in prior to her departure from Kings Landing. Now, about a year in, Naenya was certain the mixture of irritation and vexation was unnoticeable to those that did not know intently know her.

"I would love a tour," Naenya finally said, brushing down her uncrinkled dress, "I shall fetch Ser Loren,"

"I will accompany you to him," Elden said, his voice a husky drawl as he took purposefully slow steps after her, "After all, you had such a hard time at Caterly Rock. We don't want you to have a similar experience,"

Naenya contained her bristles, keeping her head high as she walked through the halls towards the kitchen where Ser Loren was eating. Ser Loren had never liked to eat in crowds.

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