BEAUTIFULLY DAMNED ━ arthur dayne

act one, chapter three

THREE
❛ a princess laments, a knight regrets ❜
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ELAENYA III
RED KEEP, KINGSLANDING, 279 AC

WORDS OF CONSOLATION that had arrived duly from Lord Connington and her brother were like pollen over the deep craterous grief that had hewn itself within the young maiden. Who, in time of sheer dejection found herself curled on the linen sheathed bed in her new chambers, hissing in pain as her Septa chose to re-dress the wounds on her knees.

Elaenya had lain for hours altogether, periodically bursting into sobs.  Yet her grief could hardly overcome itself. The unfamiliarity of her chambers, the lack of fresh sea breeze and the persisting crisp cacophony of feet, marching against the stone floor that seem to echoed uncomfortably through Elaenya's ear. Unsettling and rattling her mind even further. Though it was predominantly sorrow she truly felt pricking her soul like needles, but she couldn't help but admit that there was also a tinge of an unfamiliar feeling that bubbled within her after the commotion in the throne room. The feeling being, anger. The anguish of humiliation stirred the formation of a grain of anger and the princess could already feel guilty about it.

It was an unknown emotion on secluded beaches of Dragonstone. Yet for some outlandish reason the lack of respect, and humility seemed completely absent from the deep set eyes of her father. Perhaps it was her fault for setting expectations of grandeur on the people she hadn't even met. Hence, fuel an blasphemous emotion within her — or, perhaps it was her period of bitter realisation that she would never amount anything but a well bred pawn for her house.

She should have known.

The past experiences with her father, the memories she'd tried to bury behind her all encompassing smile. She should have known. He would do it again, he had not stood by his apologies from the scars he had caused all those years ago, and caused her pain once again. Had it not been for her mother, Elaenya believed that she would be crushed underneath his hateful gaze.

How naive of me to think that I would be accepted here.

Her slender fingers twisted the piece of sheet trapped within them, as Elaenya found her thoughts in a disarray of humiliation and anger.

She wished to scream, yet only sobs escaped as manifestations of her muddled mind.

Elaenya's interlude of self depreciation and bubbling rage was fortunately short lived, as a warm hand patted her clothed thigh. The Princess looked up with brimming eyes as the septa's gaze remained understanding yet stern.

"Sweet child, are you crying again?" She shook her head in worry, "Do I have to remind you again that as a woman of your status, you must know better than to let your emotions get the best of you"

The princess's hands balled into fists. Her lips curled into a pout. Huffing away, she wished to bawl her lungs out, just so if it meant she could pester her uptight Septa throughout the night.

Yet again, Elaenya was not used to behaviours of deviance. The least she could do was speak her mind, and so she did.

"Tell me Septa Lysa, how does a child live without their father's love?" Tears stained the girl's sleeves,"How can I love my father, if he feels disgusted by me?" She looked away, in sheer shame. "Please take me back to Dragonstone. I can't stay here, please"

Septa Lysa sighed.

"You mustn't say such things my princess" taking her tear soaked face by the chin, the septa carefully wiped her face. "You are a Targaryen, your home is at the Red Keep. You must accept it for it is your duty, how much ever the pain, you must endure for it is your duty towards the realm"