𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐎𝐓 | 𝐚𝐞𝐠𝐨𝐧 𝐈𝐈 𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐧

FLOWERS AND SUN

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the feast had finally come to an end. thalia had stolen multiple glances to the young prince, yet he hadn't given her a single look back.

thalia could not complain, they'd already made the most riveting eye contact earlier. she wasn't too cross with aegons lack of interest, he'd already seemed plenty interested at the beginning of the feast, and that was enough for her.

her elder brother had danced for the entirety of the feast with the lady from house norrey. the brunette was glad, as she now had leverage to tease her brother with if he'd decided to take a swing at her. she could jest all she wanted about the fondness he shared for lady arra norrey.

of course, thalia would not tease him first over such a thing. she found the budding of love to be a beautiful thing, as are infatuations and things of yearning. she believed the soul could be revealed in it's most bare form in the eyes of deep affection. secrets could be shed, loyalties could be disarmed. everything could be lost, yet the only certainty you could hold onto would be the love you share for another.

thalia stark was a true romantic. everything meant something in the eyes of the girl.

as cregan finally rejoined his sister and father, the three made their way to attend the tourney celebration.

"how was your dance with lady arra? she seems like a lovely woman," she smiled dearly at her brother, "i am not one for dancing, yet she made me want to keep dancing, for the sake of being with her." he smiled fondly.

"a beautiful thing that is brother," she rested her hand on to his arm. "mayhaps father will allow a betrothal! i would love to keep the company lady arra" she whispered excitedly; a new woman in the castle meant thalia would gain a new face to speak to. the young stark thought that if she hadn't had anyone to speak to during her time in the castle, she'd most definitely fall into a craze.

cregan laughed at the innocence of his sister. it was truly refreshing to be in her presence; kind and lovely.

they sat above the jousting pit. the nearest house to them was house tully, the furthest being house targaryen. though, if thalia leaned over at a peculiar angle, she could see just the shoulder of prince aegon.

she gave a quiet sigh and watched as they'd announced who would be fighting against whom, what house they represented, and of course if they'd asked to wear a favor from a lady. 

the young brunette found tourneys to be quite boring. proud, brutish, blood-thirsty men who possessed an undeterred tunnel vision in all matters of violence did not entertain her. at certain instances, when a knight of a noble house had been thrown off their horse and onto the ground, his opponent would also dismount his horse, bringing down his fist as if he had not already won. fighting like animals in the dirt as if they had not looked upon the face of mercy.

sometimes, at times like these, thalia could only dream what it would be like to participate in such an ordeal. she would show those who fell at her feet true grace. if she was a knight with the name stark, she would undoubtedly bring a great extent of honor to her house. she would be a formidable fighter, just as her brother was.

with cregan as a swords instructor, her integrity would be unquestioned; the glory she could bring to her house would be a privilege she could only dream to have.