Stelsa, the girl crafted from the broken leftovers from the Gods, is far from the expectations of a normal lady. Her father, Aaeron Meryls, and her uncles sought to train her in the way of the blade. Many whisper about her origin - is she bastard li...
"A snake tempting a dragon. Would its poison BE ENOUGH TO SLAY THE BEAST?"
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IT SEEMED WHEREVER STELSA found herself, the whispers chased after her. They seemed to lurk around every wall, watch from every window, while hiding amongst the shadows unseen. She tried to ignore them, walk past them as though she could not hear what they gossiped, but it was becoming harder with each passing moment. Part of her wanted to flee away to her only oasis away from them, but she found it increasingly difficult to catch a moment of her own. When questions of murder and poison circulated amongst the shadows, it was safer to reside closer to someone else, Stelsa noted. If the whispers could always account for you, it was increasingly difficult for something to happen to you. At least, Stelsa considered it so.
Stesa pulled her cloak tighter to her frame as she moved through the busy halls. The royal family was preparing to depart the next day for Lady Laena's funeral, while Stelsa would ride to Harrenhal soon. Her father had taken point in returning Lord Strong to his final resting spot. Taking a deep breath, Stelsa pushed open the door and headed for the stables to find her father. Trying to put distance between her and the whispers, but it seemed they followed after her — hissing such venomous words from their tongues. Stelsa tried not to listen to them, but it became increasingly difficult to.
Aemond listened as Heleana hummed her tune while she brushed through his hair. It was only them in the quiet room, he supposed that's why he allowed his older sister to brush his hair. His eyes stared down at his hand and he found himself almost grabbing his other open palm. It was an odd sensation. One he was not used to. Aemond could almost imagine Stelsa's hand in his, which was even odder for the boy to consider, "...You seem further away than I." Aemond blinks, eyes shooting up to the mirror above the fireplace to look at his sister sitting on the couch. Had she said that, or was he hallucinating that too? Perhaps he had a sickness coming on, of course, that had to be the reason he was hallucinating.
The prince considered remaining silent, but if his sister had truly proposed the conversation he was obligated to answer — it would not be Prince like to not. What was he to say though? Your dear friend grabbed my hand and it was odd. No. Aemond could not say that. Instead, he steered the conversation towards their recent travels, "We will have to leave here in a day's time." Aemond responded, watching as his sister eyed what she was doing with his hair. Her lilac eyes, such a soft purple hue, complimented her demeanor. Aemond found his eyes to be darker whenever he looked at them, infused more with a blue shade than his sister's.
"Would you like to fly dragon back with me?" Heleana asked so softly, Aemond was not sure he had heard her right. Had she offered him a dragon ride?
"Truly?" Aemond breathed out, feeling the excitement stir in his heart like a spark. It was dull, a flame waiting to catch an unsuspecting piece of kindle to ignite into a raging fire.
Heleana smiles softly, "Dreamfrye is big enough to saddle two." Her voice is like a summer breeze on the hottest of days — refreshing. When she spoke, Aemond often found himself unable to not listen. Her kindness knew no boundaries, a fact Aemond both adored and loathed.
