today is my birthday 🎂
I need power stones...
...
"Princess Elia, a pleasure." the man nodded his head, his hair a silvery gold as it fell around his ears, his face as handsome as any man Elia had seen in her life. His voice was smooth as silk, courteous, and of mild tone, he gave her a small smile.
...
Elia swallowed involuntarily, her breath catching in her throat. "P-prince Rhaegar, likewise." She said, suppressing a blush that threatened to rush to her cheeks. She had heard that he was beautiful, but not that he was so-
"Oh, what's this then?" A harsh voice spoke.
Her eyes snapped to the man at the head of the table, and in comparison to the Prince, she almost wanted to recoil in fright. King Aerys looked like half a corpse, with long silver hair that hung down in ragged clumps from the top of his head.
He wore a golden circlet around his forehead, but without it, he would look more like some old sorcerer than a king, for his eyes were sunken in and shadowed under heavy eyebrows, and his fingernails were like claws. Up his arms and on his palms there were viscous scars and scabs, as if he was constantly cutting his flesh away with small knives. His voice was like gravel being poured from a bucket. "Oh… the Martell party, I see." his lips seemed to be nearly a sneer.
"Welcome, I suppose, to this tournament and feast to celebrate the birth of my son." she felt he didn't particularly mean a word he said, though that wasn't exactly uncommon in highborn feasts. "I hope you understand that we won't bring him out for you to see. I've had quite enough children poisoned." his bitter insult spoken, he laughed.
Elia felt a shudder run down her spine as the king laughed cruelly, before turning back to his wife, talking to her in low tones as Doran put a steadying hand on her back. She sent a thankful glance to her elder brother, before turning her gaze back towards Prince Rhaegar, who was now staring at his father in consternation. She had to wonder at how different the father was from the son.
The king's words seemed to have not made it all the way down the table, though she thought she saw Lady Olenna leaning back with narrowed eyes, she could not tell much more than that, but Elia had to admit that the entire thing had rocked her. Was this what the King's table was like? She had never been to a feast with a host so hostile, certainly not at any Dorneish court, nor even in the Reach or the Westerlands when she had toured there.
Elia struggled to find words to say.
"I… hope you are well, Princess."
She glanced up to find a very guilty-looking Prince Rhaegar, still just as handsome as before, but his eyes now downcast. After a second, she realized that his words were intended as an apology, albeit a coded one, for even the prince couldn't apologize for the actions of his father, not in front of him.
Elia swallowed. "Yes… just… thirsty, yes, I think I'll have some wine." Elia snatched one of the goblets in front of her, the heady taste of full-strength wine a balm on her mind as she tried to shake off the effect that the King's words held on her.
"I'm glad." Prince Rhaegar said, his small smile returning, as he leaned across the table slightly towards her, purple eyes gleaming. "So, tell me, how was your trip north from Dorne?"
"Oh, it was quite pleasant." Elia nodded, feeling a strange pull towards the beautiful man. She returned his smile as she answered his question, and they began to talk more. "You see we took the long route to avoid shipbreaker bay…"
...
( Cersei Lannister POV )
The Prince's Tourney's Grand Melee was the opening event of the entire celebration, and that meant that, though it was held in the smaller set of stands, it still drew a large crowd.
The Grand Melee was the opening act of the tourney proper, wherein the 200 some-odd younger squires in King's Landing would be whittled down over several rounds until only 20 young lads remained. Cersei watched with bated breath as the contestants milled about, from high in the Hand's box, which was draped in Lannister Reds and Golds, they had a spectacular view to watch Jaime distinguish himself in his very first tourney.
Indeed the entire Lannister party in King's Landing, Aunt Genna, both of her uncles, and of course her father, had all turned out to See Jaime (as they should.) though Callum and her had been pushed off to one side of the box to make room for all the adults on the main railing.
"Can you see Jaime?" her younger brother asked beside her, holding himself up on his toes to look down at the melee below. "He should be in that doublet I saw him in earlier."
Cersei scanned the field but found no sign of her brother either, though there were quite a few boys in similar colors. It wasn't as if House Lannister was the only house that wore red. "No, there's an awful lot of boys, but no Jaime," Cersei grumbled, glancing over at Callum. "Think he's having a nap?" she asked jokingly, causing Callum to snort. Both of them knew quite well that Jaime wouldn't miss this tournament for anything.
"I'm sure he's eloped with a scullery maid and is now halfway to Essos," Callum responded with a giggle, and Cersei felt her mood darken for a moment. Jaime would never do that. Not without telling her.
Still, she brightened after a moment, choosing to play along with her brother's teasing. "I'm sure he can do better than a scullery maid, a knight's daughter at least."
"Perhaps he's made off with Lady Olenna" Callum teased. "Did you hear what she said last night?"
"Called him a little blond oaf, I heard." Cersei nodded, the woman had been mostly unpleasant, though she hadn't been focused on the Lannisters. She called her son and husband oafs quite a lot too. Though when Jaime had been talking to Mace, the Tyrell heir about this very same melee, Cersei's father had fixed the woman with a withering stare, and it had shut her up for the rest of the night.
The sight of it had sent a thrill through Cersei's heart. Her father truly was the greatest Lord in Westeros. Glancing around the stands, she saw that the Tyrell party was all there, Lord Luthor having an animated conversation by shouting back and forth with his son on the field. Still, glancing at the other high lord boxes, a reply to her brother came to mind. "Maybe Jaime's made off with your betrothed." she teased him with a grin. "I don't see Princess Elia in the stands."
While she'd expected a bit of annoyance, Callum's face grew tight and serious in an instant, his sharp green eyes scanning the crowd. "No… no she isn't, you're right." Callum pressed himself against the railing. "I- well it's probably nothing I suppose, it's not as if the Martells have a squire here." Callum finished, but his face didn't loosen up, and Cersei blinked, leaning over to bump him, their long blond hair meeting at the shoulders.
"You don't actually think she's eloped with Jaime do you?" Cersei didn't think her brother was that gullible. Princess Elia wasn't that foolish, though Jaime could be, maybe, if you offered him a Valyrian steel sword or something.
Callum shook his head, matching her gaze and speaking very quietly. "Princess Elia… well I was a bit put off by her conduct at the feast last night," he said, and Cersei leaned in further, half caring about Callum's feelings, and half looking for some juicy gossip.
"Oh? Was she eating too much Garlic?" Cersei asked. Aunt Genna always said that if you ate too much then you'd smell like Garlic for your whole life. Cersei didn't believe it was true, but she also tried not to eat more than two garlic dishes in a meal, in case her aunt wasn't lying.
"What, no." Callum shook his head quickly. "You actually believe- no, never mind. No, I mean that Prince Rhaegar and Her were talking the whole night, and through half of it she was blushing." Callum frowned, his face shaded behind his hair as he turned back to glance at the field. "I'm a bit worried about it."
Cersei blinked, her brain coming screeching to a halt. "You mean Princess Elia and Prince Rhaegar- they're…" Cersei blushed, her mind conjuring images of a game she'd played several years ago with Jaime, a game where they were both naked.
"W-wait, but I'm supposed to marry Prince Rhaegar,-oh, and you're supposed to Marry Princess Elia!" she felt panicked, sweat beading on her forehead as she grabbed Callum's arm. "They can't do things like that."
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