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( SHANDYSTONE, DORNE ) MID 284 AC
OCTAEVIA RELUCTANTLY HANDED OVER SARELLA AFTER A BIT OF PERSUASION, because with Oberyn's unpredictability and Gwendys' untrained hand, she knew she was a fool not to tag along. And rightly, she expected Sarella to tear up and bawl the whole time she was away from her home and wet nurse, but the girl of four took well to a change of scenery.
The last holdfast that she'd been to was Harrenhall. She'd sat beside Ashara whom sat beside Elia, squeezing her hand because of her ill health and swollen stomach, cheering as her cousin and Ashara's brother, Ser Arthur, preformed gallantly in the joust (and Gwendys knew then that she wanted to follow in his footsteps), but, Prince Rhaegar was better.
She hadn't been enamoured by the prince, like many women were, and learning of Elia's fragile health, they were already lining up their daughters, in the case of the crown prince becoming a widower. In fact, she became disgusted by him after he slandered his wife, and his little girl, Rhaenys, in front of all attendees.
If she were born a man, Gwendys would have challenged him to a duel. It was a little struggle to convince her otherwise, anyway. And that was it, for Gwen. She'd grown up thinking that she had the right to challenge authority, as she'd always question her mother and grandmother, because they were highest on the highborn tower, that she knew of.
That fuelled Rhaegar's distaste for her, as she challenged him and quipped him without thought. He even attempted to convince indisposed Elia to dismiss her childhood friend, but Gwendys always prevailed, even if it was by the skin of her teeth. He often glared at her with violet eyes, or stormed out — but Gwendys knew, he wouldn't do anything to intentionally upset his wife. But she was oh so wrong.
Clutching Gwendys' hand in her chubby one, Sarella led the lady down a flight of stairs, overturning rocks and brushing sand off of the mosaics and tiles inside the holdfast. She looks so little like Oberyn, she remarked, and so much like Prisha, with her ebony skin and amber doe-eyes. It would have made sense, but however, it couldn't have been her friend's child, as Sarella's mother was rumoured to be a infamous pirate; the captain of the Feathered Kiss. And after all, Prisha was from Oldtown.
She'd expected the abandoned fort to be crumbling, hazardous, unsure; but it remained as sturdy and safe as it had been the day it had been abandoned, eighty or so years before. Sarella pottered around, and ribbons of blonde hair lashed around as Tyene and her father tried to catch a snake to milk its venom. Arianne and Garin rolled up their sleeves and dove their arms into the nearby river, hunting for frogs with their bare hands.
It had been a long time since she'd been exposed to such raw glee. She looked on adoringly at the idyllic sights, Oberyn playing with his young daughter, and she sighed, laying back in the verdant grass with contempt, her hand reaching to smooth over her ruby pendant that hung against her chest. Her eyes drifted closed, relishing in the peace and tranquility that Shandystone brought upon her.
