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DAEMERYS descended the cobblestone stairs with her brothers behind her, they watched with intrigue as people fought each other with wooden swords.
"Smaller than I remember", Lucerys voiced.
"It looks exactly the same", Jace seemed excited about being there, Daemerys simply remained void — not much pleased her these days, especially in this place she called hell.
The three walked along, people stopping to stare at them. Luke looked down at his feet, Jace stood taller and head held high whereas their sister glared — making a lot of them look away in fright.
"See? I told you this would still be here. And you thought you could swing Criston's morningstar. And you almost took your own head off", Lucerys looked to where Jace was tapping, the wall had a carve in it, Daemerys wasn't looking.
Something else had caught her eye. A sharp blade, it reminded her of the one she had that night.
Jace looked to his brother who wore a frown, "What's your problem?".
"Everyone's staring at us".
Jacaerys didn't take the matter seriously and whipped a blade out, pointing it at his brother with a chuckle.
"Let them", Daemerys spoke, eyes still on the blade.
A closed eye will open the other to possibilities.
The woman sighed at the voice in her head, shaking it off and turning to the boys talking, "No one would question me being heir to Driftmark... if... I looked more like Ser Laenor Velaryon than Ser Harwin Strong".
Jace stopped at that, putting the blade down and talking discreetly to the boy, "It doesn't matter what they think".
Lucerys looked at his brother silently for a moment, Daemerys coming behind him to hold his shoulders in comfort before their attention drifted towards a crash followed by cheering.
