What is honor compared to a woman's love?
What is duty against the feel of a newborn son in your arms . . . or the memory of a brother's smile?
Wind and words. Wind and words.
We are only human, and the gods have fashioned us for love.
That is our g...
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273 AC - QUEEN RHELLA'S BED CHAMBERS, MAEGOR'S HOLDFAST OF THE RED KEEP. KING'S LANDING.
"Don't fret my little dragon, it will be over before you know it. Only a Maester, a Septon and a Kingsguard- nothing to fear"
All remaining air within the chamber had vanished with those words, and Elaena felt her chest tighten. Her breath suddenly felt labored, as if she had been dunked into a northern lake of ice and chilled straight to the bone. Her body physically reacted to the news, producing goosebumps across her pale flesh. All she could do was nod to her father, her King. His word was law. If this was what he wished for, it would be her command. To strip herself down in front of four men, and allow Rhaegar to fuck her. For her to provide House Targaryen with a new heir. That was what would make her father happy, proud maybe.
Her hands instinctively began making work on the nailbeds of her fingers, picking until they began to bleed. A small drop of red ran from her finger, though she only wiped it on her dress. Elaena remained silent for the rest of the dinner, unable to stomach any food while her mind raced wildly. People are to witness the union?! She had always thought the bedding ceremony was bad enough, were bed would strip her down and carry her off to her husband's bed, before tossing her in and making some crude remarks at her expense. I had hoped for us to be able to wait... at least a little while. She still felt like a child. She had no dreams of becoming a doting mother to a King. She wished to travel, to see what lands lay west of Westeros. Something she would never see. She eventually managed to slice her honeyed ham, pushing it round the plate as she tried to force her stomach to consume. To no avail. Though, she did have her fair share of honey-spiced wine, calling the servants twice to refill the pitcher.
From across the table, Elaena could feel her mother's eyes burning into her, but the young princess couldn't bring herself to look at her mother. She felt shame. She shouldn't, hell if anything she should be angry with her mother. Angry she allowed this to happen. Angry that her mother allowed the children she bore, would allow the same fate to befall them. But she couldn't be angry with the frail Queen. Her mother had always done her best, with both Rhaegar and Elaena herself. When your husband's word is law, there is not much of a discussion to be had. Her mother, if anything, would receive a harsh response of a slap to the face.
She was unable to avoid the gaze for much longer, and she lifted her eyes to meet those that were so similar to her own. Rhaella's cheeks were flushed a deep pink color, in obvious discomfort with the dinner. Her eyes swelled, though she did not allow a tear to fall. Elaena forced herself to give her mother a small smile. I am okay She tried to assure the woman through only glances. Though this seemed to only upset the Queen more.
It seemed hours before they were dismissed for the evening. All expect her mother, whom it was decided would warm the bed of the King that evening. Rhaegar had wrapped an arm round Elaena's waist, pulling her close to his side in an effort to stabilize her as they moved. They exited the chamber of Rhaella Targaryen, hearing a muffled cry as the door closed behind them. Tonight, my mother will warm her brothers bed- and within a fortnight I shall warm my brothers. The thought made her shiver, and Elaena felt her inside's clench once more as she prayed.
