playιng: [heartlines] - [florence and the machine]

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257 AC ━ DORNE

When word of his sister's premature birth reached Doran, he simply nodded, accepting the child's fate would be the same as his previous two siblings. Death. He would mourn no more dead children. He accepted he would be the progenitor of his mother whom he would inherit Sunspear and Dorne from. He thought of his mother's pained eyes after losing the second boy who'd survived only seven turns of the moon. His mother was strong, but motherhood seemed to make her fragile. So he thanked the note-bringer and decided that at age nine he was a man grown. He was enough.

What he didn't quite know was that his little sister was a fighter. Elia, as his mother would call her, had come into the world red-faced and wailing. Her hands shaking in tight fists and screaming loud enough that even the Princess's attending ladies outside could hear it. Her tiny eyes were black and big, like a set of obsidian spheres, and black tufts of hair atop her tiny head. The maester gently lay the girl atop the Princess's chest, letting them bond while the afterbirth delivered. "This one will stay," the Princess cooed into her baby's head. "The Stranger cannot take this one from me."

And He did not. However, the Stranger did seem very fond of Elia. Letting her live enough, but always knocking her off her feet with a fever, or chill, or a headache to remind her that He was still there. Not quite a friend, but too intrigued over this tiny creature to let go. Waiting, expecting, perhaps He too, like the Princess, hoped this one would stick around.

It was said after Elia recovered from the first fever that almost took her life, that the Stranger must've taken pity on the Princess who cried and prayed routinely over Elia's bed. There were some who said she prayed to the Stranger, while others closer to her would say she simply pleaded to no one in particular until her repeated syllable became a prayer. Whoever or whatever she was praying to certainly listened. The fever came and went, and little Elia made a full recovery.

Her childhood was a mostly easy one. She enjoyed playing in the water gardens with her cousins or the children of Sunspear, even when she could still not swim well. Though she was a stubborn girl and gave her Septas trouble when her studies began at age three. She was a restless child and would not be still for more than a moment at a time. This is how her early days were spent; her army of Septas chasing after her with books full of nursery rhymes that would teach her the alphabet of the common tongue, and her hiding between her mother's guards or behind the skirts of noblewomen. Until she would eventually tire and turn herself in to one of the Septas.

It wasn't until she was twelve of age that she began to take her studies seriously, more so out of interest than duty. She would finish her needlework and history lessons quickly, thank the Septas, and excuse herself only to rush to the other side of the building where the young scholars held their seminars. This had become a habit for her. Though she appreciated the lessons her Septas gave her, it was learning about the histories of Essos and beyond that she truly sought. She found a spot next to her younger brother, Oberyn, and knocked her shoulder against him.

Oberyn had been born the year after Elia, and just like her, he'd managed to survive his early years. He'd always been the most studious out of the pair, however, he was not allowed to ask questions during these meetings because in the past he would be the only one to do so, not letting the older students have their questions answered. So from his place in the lecture hall, he'd simply hum along whenever a scholar said something he agreed with or shook his head when another said something he disagreed with. He wasn't quiet about it either; with his facial expressions and loud grunts of approval. "Have I missed much?" She asked him.

"Nothing important." He answered simply, pulling the ends of his tunic that Elia had sat on. Annoyed, he shuffled over until there was enough space for another person to fit between them. "Elmar isn't here today, so it will be boring."

Elia glanced around, the eyes that she caught looking at them smiled at her and she smiled back, "I don't see Jevan, will he be here soon?" Elia asked, her eyes narrowing as if searching for the older man this way would make him appear sooner. Oberyn sighed loudly, "I don't know. Keep quiet!"

She snapped her head back at him, mouth opened in disbelief, "Well you are being rather rude today, little brother," she accentuated the last four syllables of her words to make sure he remembered she was, in fact, older than him, and that merited respect.

He ignored her, leaned forward, and rested his elbow on his knee and his chin on his palm. His face was mushed this way and this is how he greeted the Maester as he took a seat between the siblings. "Forgive me princelings," Oberyn hated being called that, but Elia didn't mind. "I was caught up with some work for tomorrow's lesson. It will be interesting," he said enthusiastically and Elia couldn't help but smile at how endearing the greying man looked when a grin overtook his features. He put a finger up to emphasize that this lesson was to be important, "We will discuss the known history of Yi Ti. I've arranged for the shipwright Han to accompany us during the lesson," at this Oberyn's eyes lit up, his back straightening. "You may only ask appropriate questions, princeling," the Maester interjected before the young Prince could ask. He perked up again, "questions related to the lecture, Oberyn," Elia added. Oberyn shot his eyebrows up, faking hurt at how lowly his sister thought of him, "I meant to ask," he put a hand over his chest, "if we can ask how the legacy of the sea-green emperors has shaped modern Yi Ti's politics, it's laws," the Maester looked at Oberyn and fixed him with a smile, "you've been in the library again," The Maester ruffled Oberyn's head and landed a soft knock on his head with his knuckles. The younger boy looked at the maester with one eye closed, rubbing where he'd been struck. Then grinning said "What can I say," he fixed his hair, "The books call to me."

The man then turned to Elia, "you should be more like your brother," she was taken aback at the sudden demand. "Me?" She held a hand over her chest, "but I am studious, even more than Oberyn. I taught him how to read," a lie. "I've slept in the library before, too caught up in my readings," another lie.

"What was the last book you read, dear sister," Oberyn shot her a curious glance that bordered on challenging.

She flared her nostrils, Oberyn winked, "well I cannot remember now, but-" she was interrupted by the booming voice of the lecturer. "Let us remember the rules of the hall: quietness and calmness above all."

"There's a new face," Elia dug an elbow into the Maester's side to get his attention and pointed with her chin.

"He is from Ashford, he's preparing to become a Maester," the old man said.

Oberyn dug his elbow into the Maester's other side, "it's not easy, right," he said. "Becoming a Maester. It's hard to get the lead link, right?"

Jevan adjusted himself in his seat, playing with his own chain that hung from his neck, he hooked a finger on his own lead chain. "It is only hard if you have no discipline. You see, poisons are a tricky thing-" he shifted to face Oberyn, but the lecturer shushed them harshly.

They shrugged back into their seats and abstained from side conversations.

That was short-lived, however. A second Maester sat on the other side of Oberyn and turned to the trio, "I've been observing you two for the past month. You're quite bookish," he chuckled. "I do believe that is your Targaryen side," he began, but the siblings would not let him finish.

"I am Martell, not Targaryen," Oberyn said sharply, turning to the scholars. "Tell him, Jevan. Tell him I am more Martell, more Dornish than the sands beneath our sandals and the salt in our seas."

Jevan simply shrugged at the man, he'd clearly said something Oberyn hadn't liked.

"I only say it because, in all my time here, you two are the first Martells to take interest in these," he searched for the word, "more sophisticated topics."

This time, it was Elia's turn to defy him, "Then you must have arrived only recently. We are Martell. Plenty of Martells before us were bookish, our own mother would bring us to the library to read to us, and her father before her was bookish as well. You do not know what you say. If Martells were not bookish, as you say, we would not have so many libraries."

Perhaps the man had overspoken, "I mean to say, it is well recorded that Martells are travelers, traders, adventurers," though these things were true, it was too late to make up for his presumptions. "Targaryens, your ancestors-"

"Do not look down on us. We are Martells! We are bookish and we are adventurers." Oberyn had spoken too loudly, this would surely have them kicked out. The lecturer looked at Maester Levan and signaled him to see the siblings out, "come princelings," he helped them out of their seats. "Maester," he dipped his chin as a farewell.

"The lickspittle," Oberyn roared once they were out of the lecture hall. "If I cut my arm it is Nymeria's blood that pours out of me, not Aegon's. It is sand, not fire." He sulked. Elia could tell the words hurt him, they hurt her too. Too many outsiders judged Dornishmen stereotypically, not even allowing themselves to learn about the rich and diverse culture of the land.

"I know who you are," Levan poked a finger into Oberyn's chest above his heart, "and you," he held Elia's wrist. "So let us work together and make sure you show that lickspittle what a Martell is capable of."

"Who is a lickspittle? Surely you are not teaching them such ugly words, Maester," it was Doran Martell. Their eldest brother of one and twenty who'd returned from a trip to Volantis. His trip would resume in a few days, but he decided to head home after three years abroad.

"He's much taller, is that possible?" Elia asked.

"He also somehow seems more put together," Oberyn observed. The last time they'd seen him he had gotten into an argument with their mother who'd scolded him over his drinking problems. This was four years ago, and he did appear to have sobered up.

"I can hear you two," Doran said.

"Your Highness," Levan bowed. "It is only children's banter."

Doran grunted, "Well then, we are not strangers are we?"

Elia took the first step, awkwardly wrapping her arms around the man's middle and looking up at him, "Mother missed you dearly." He patted the top of her head then looked at Oberyn approaching them with Levan trailing behind. "You are grown now, practically a man," Doran took his younger brother in. Though he was still a head shorter than Elia, he was growing strong and steady.

"I am still quite short, though there are advantages to that," he cracked a smile. "You look well." He shook his brother's hand and Elia pulled him into the hug, and Oberyn pulled Levan with him.

And in this moment, they were happy, but as it has already been noted, the Stranger had queer ways of reminding Elia she was on His time. Later that day, she would go to sleep complaining of a headache and overnight a viscous fever would have her bedridden for two weeks.

But the young Princess would smile through the fever, brightening the room she occupied with her lightheartedness. And it is with a smile she would one day stand from her bed only to find her younger brother had gone with Doran back to the Free Cities where he was determined to learn about poisons.

A folded note lay tucked away in one of her slippers: "I am bookish and I am an adventurer. I have gone to the crossroad where I can master both. Keep well."

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AUTHOR'S NOTE:

IT'S BEEN SO LONG SINCE I'VE WRITTEN FANFIC!! I WANNA THANK ANYONE WHO READS IT 🥰 THIS PART CAME OUT A BIT LONG, BUT I REALLY LIKED IT. ANYWAYS, IM PLANNING ON 1-2 PARTS PER WEEK AND WILL BE UPLOADING ON THURSDAY MORNINGS. IT'S ONLY 12 PARTS AND MOSTLY A ROUGH DRAFT. IT WAS SO HARD TO PIN DOWN A TIMELINE OF EVENTS AND EVEN HARDER TO WRITE. THERE'S NEXT TO NOTHING ON ELIA/RHAEGAR/LYANNA PRE-REBELLION, SO I'M REALLY JUST USING SOME OF MY FAVORITE THEORIES AND SOME OF MINE. OK, I HOPE YOU ENJOYED IT!