anastasia [got || on hold]

two

— two —

      RHAENYRA SAND WALKS THE HALLS OF THE WATER GARDENS LINKED UP WITH PRINCESS MYRCELLA, LAUGHTER SLIPPING OFF HER TONGUE LIKE A MELODY.

   Not like a minstrel's bawdy ballads, but light and airy, like a fairy song meant to soften the heart and ignite wonder in the mind. Myrcella Baratheon is entranced by the beauty, following her every move with inquisitive green eyes, green eyes that are familiar to Rhaenyra, not that she knows that.

   The Rhoynar girl leads the Andal towards a table covered in bright fruits sitting in the center of the garden, citrus lighting her senses on fire. Gods, she was starving. They sit and eat and Rhaenyra does most of the talking, retelling the story of Nymeria for the thousandth time for the child.

Women can be rulers and warriors, too.

She twists that idea into her words carefully as she speaks, highlighting each and every successful female leader as she goes. Why aren't you second in line? She is a woman and so Tommen takes her spot in line for the throne, but that is not how things should be, and Rhaenyra tells her this many times.

   You should be queen.

They're interrupted by Rhaenyra's father, her father who has been gone for too long in the Free Cities. Her father who tears up at every glance at his daughter because of her resemblance to his sister.

   Rhaenyra wraps her arms tightly around Oberyn Martell's waist, a grin spreading widely across her pale olive cheeks as he presses kisses to her hair. Each time he left, fear would consume him at the thought of someone finding her. Of taking her. Of killing her. And so each time he returns he seeks her first over all of his children, those by Ellaria and those elder baseborn by others, he sees Rhaenyra first. She is the most important because she is not his. She is Elia's and she is the true heir to the throne. She is what he vowed to protect.

   "Did you bring anything?" Rhaenyra asks excitedly, searching for Oberyn's hidden hands.

   The man grins before producing a wooden box that jingles when he moves it. Rhaenyra's violet eyes go alight with wonder as she takes the ornate container in her hands, carefully undoing the clasp with excited yet shaky fingers. Inside lies jewels that sparkle brightly, shifting in the light like kaleidoscopes. 

   Rhaenyra grins. "They're beautiful!"

   Oberyn takes the box from her hands and sets it upon the table, picking up the necklace carefully before draping it around her neck. The jewels fall down her chest in the shape of a sun, and the gems he fastens to her ears look like small spears. Myrcella stares on entranced, eyes wide.