⋆⭒˚.⋆

The morning darned a cryptic glow over the polished marble floors of the Great Sept of Baelor. Naelle was left by the entrance, the carriage parked a little further as she stepped inside. She had missed moments of the tranquility of the Sept but right now her heart was pounding with a mix of anticipation and nerves.

Her footsteps echoed while walking toward the grand altar, she caught sight of Helaena sitting in quiet contemplation. She was kneeled by a candle holder, head bowed down and whispering prayer to her joined hands. Helaena's presence exuded an air of serenity amidst the grandeur of the sept, her features bathed in the warm colors of the fire. Naelle's heart nearly skipped a beat at the sight. It had been too long since they were allowed to meet freely, Naelle blamed her bashfulness in it.

The memory of their time together at the beach lingered in her mind and even after facing the consequences, Naelle thought she would've done it all again. Approaching the princess, Naelle offered a hesitant smile more to reassure herself than anything.

"Helaena," she called softly, not wanting to disturb the peace.

Helaena turned, her expression breaking into a radiant smile. "Naelle, you came!" She whispered, voice still echoing with genuine delight.

Naelle felt a rush of relief at the familiar sight of Helaena's smile. "Mother feared for my soul since I had relinquished praying for about a minute," she admitted with amusement.

The princess extended a hand, inviting Naelle to side with her. The gentle hum of worship and the ghoulish aura of the sept's interior seemed to fade into the background, the company of another gifting Naelle confidence.

However, it wasn't just anyone, it was Helaena. In the midst of her prayers, Naelle stole some furtive glances at the other. The gentle curve of her friend's profile, illuminated, surrounded by the ethereal glow of the crown of silver trained into intricate braids, felt more heavenly than any said act of gods. It held a calming grip on Naelle's troubled heart. She damned herself, tried to keep her eyes trailed somewhere else and concentrated on verses. When she found it impossible, Naelle attempted to shut her eyes, wrinkling up her forehead with the force of it. Just the same, the mere possibility of missing something important, plagued her suddenly.

An expression, a plea of purple iris, fingers reaching to touch,... What if she missed anything about Helaena? She would never forgive herself. Naelle peeked over her eyebrows just in time to see Helaena's lips moved in silent reverence. The sight of her friend's unwavering faith stirred a sense of admiration in Naelle, and against everything she was proper the turmoil mellowed down.

She rested, rested as the idea of caressing Helaena's jaw came to mind. Naelle would turn her face towards her and touch her lips, Naelle would glue their foreheads together so that they could pray at each other. Naelle reached forward, pressing their mouths, feeling the chapped lips of the princess, the tenderness of her gum. The aroma of vanilla and hint of the pungent horehound invaded her nostrils and Naelle gasped. She shook away the fantasy, the sin playing out behind her eyes, she found herself light-headed.

The sacred silence interrupted, the princess glanced up. Curious, mostly preoccupied. "Naelle,is everything alright?"

Helaena's voice carried a tone of concern tinged with warmth, the other could almost cry by the sound of it alone. Naelle hesitated, the guilt of her inner thoughts momentarily reflected in her eyes before she composed herself. She was her bestest of friends, Helaena was the first person she wanted to tell about her dragon lessons and whatever cake she had for breakfast. But Naelle could not tell her about this. No one could ever know.

"It's nothing," Naelle replied, attempting to brush the whole thing off.

Helaena regarded her friend, sensing the depth of Naelle's distress beneath the facade. She recognized the flicker of conflict that lingered in the other's gaze.Naelle inhaled a sharp breath, the princess could read her clues too well for her liking.

"I just missed you,"Naelle whispered. It was meant to throw Helaena off the odor trail of her shame, yet her voice carried the weight of her longing.

Helaena rose gracefully, closing the distance between them. "I missed you too," she confessed, her eyes shimmering with unspoken emotions.

There was an unspoken understanding between them, a connection that transcended words, Helaena embraced her in a steady hold. For a moment, Naelle wondered. She wondered if the sentiment that lingered in the air between them could be mutual. It was wishful thinking, an absurdity. Naelle's gaze shifted to the ceiling and she clung to her own prayers.

Make me worthy of her. Make me unfeeling and cold. Make me all consuming and selfish. Make me right this time.She sought guidance and strength but it was all so paradoxal. What she wanted clashed with what must be. And it hurt, her heart was tangled within webs of needles.

"You know," Helaena started. "You can confide in me. I'll always be here if you need to talk."

Helaena urged gently, and Naelle contemplated her friend's offer again. She removed herself from Helaena's arms and stared deep within her eyes. The sanctity of the sept seemed to encourage honesty, and though a part of her yearned to unburden her heart, she couldn't. She averted her gaze, shook her head and drew a smile.

"It's nothing... It's just some personal business," Naelle murmured, her voice carrying a hint of vulnerability.

The unspoken understanding between them lingered in the air, their unspoken connection weaving a tapestry of empathy and friendship amidst the sacred stillness of the sept.

Soon after, the pair left the building. Helaena pulled the dark haired girl with her, explaining to the guards Lady Naelle would be accompanying her back to the Red Keep. The girls settled in the royal carriage side by side, talking of current gossip and books, of gallant lords and giggling on the way back. Their conversation flowed effortlessly, the exchange serving as a comforting distraction for Naelle. She cherished these moments with Helaena, trying to forget about a kiss that never happened.

Despite the turmoil brewing within her, Naelle adeptly navigated their conversation, sharing lighthearted stories and catching up on the happenings in each other's lives. The sacred environment of the sept provided a temporary respite from Naelle's inner conflict, allowing her to immerse herself in the familiar bond they shared.

As they continued their conversation, laughter occasionally echoing through the grand halls, Naelle found a sense of comfort in the normalcy of their interaction. She pushed aside the troubling thoughts that threatened to surface, opting to cherish the present moment with Helaena without burdening their reunion with her personal struggles.

The echoes of their laughter mingled with the sanctified air of the sept, creating an atmosphere of warmth and camaraderie, shielding their shared moments from the weight of Naelle's internal turmoil.

When they exited the carriage, Queen Alicent was outside. Surely waiting for her daughter. She seemed taken aback upon spotting Naelle cemented to Helaena as if they were one. The princess pulled Naelle along, and requested her mother's permission to invite Naelle to break fast with them today. Two devoted hands encircled the princess.

"My dear, I fear Naelle has to return to her mother. She has to get ready for the tournament, as do you."

Before Helaena could defend her case, her mother shushed her and told her to go inside. In her place, the Nartaelos's girl offered a curtsy, a strange look passed in the queen's visage. Melancholic, familiar, one look that transcended time. I know you, we've met decades ago.

"Maybe another day." Alicent provided and followed after her daughter.

⋆⭒˚.⋆

The family was headed to the tournament after an excruciating long feast. The twins were too thrilled by the prospect of a spectacle, really they had never been spectators in such orderals. It wasn't as grand or heroic as the ballads made it to be. Still Naelle smiled brightly when she encountered Maddalina and Petraena outside the hippodrome.

"Such a lovely day for a tournament, wouldn't you agree?" Maddalina inquired with a tinge of mischief in her tone.

Naelle hugged the two, one at the time, then returned the Maddalina's spirits.

"Of course, have you seen the contestants? Did they seem in good shape?"

"The horse or the knights?" Maddalina cooed, playing innocent.

Naelle laughed, and even Petraena hid a coy smile behind her hand. She inquired about the silver princess, faking disinterest in the answer. The others could not tell Naelle of her whereabouts and she shrugged it off, instead focusing on the topics presently discussed. From the corner of her eye, she noted the twins racing towards Aegon and Aemond.

She frowned, repeating the motion of searching for the princess. To no avail.

Vaenna and Maekar toyed with the princes, pretending to be riding a horse of their own against their adversaries. It was a bit tense still, between Vaenna and Aemond but it seemed to be slowly coming into place. The Nartaelos youngest boy pulled Aegon by his elbow and Vaenna joined his efforts shortly after.

Looking around, Naelle jotted down if anyone was witnessing the jest. It wasn't proper, she realized. However, Naelle also didn't want to cut their fun short.

Aegon rolled his eyes dramatically, he jumped to their level then and chased the youngest around. Probably pretending to be a dragon judging by the sounds he was making. A smile plastered on her face, it was sweet. It surprised her that Aegon could be sweet when no else was looking, even so his malice overshadowed moments such as this.

The dragon got a hold on Vaenna and tickled her. She laughed and screamed until she got free, and the dragon resumed his chase. Out of the blue the warmth blooming in Naelle's chest fermented into a rancid and scolding feeling that ran down her back. Annoyance. Envy. Realization.

The differences between Naelle and Vaenna were immeasurable. Yet the sisters did have one common trait, at some point in their childhood they had looked over the night sky and wished under the gods' watchful eyes that they had been born a man. One for war, for the passion too grand to be held on such a delicate body. The other for love, so the words she wanted to utter wouldn't disgrace her as much as they suffocated by residing inside her throat.

Both had wished it for freedom.

The Princes had fostered Vaenna as one of them. One of the knights, one of the outlaws in their many games together. However, Naelle had never reached any higher than her station. It wasn't like she had any inclination to roll in the mud, or play with swords. There was no denying though, that all of that came with numerous benefits and it wasn't fair. It was divine punishment to be chained from the moment one was born.

It was unfair that Vaenna could make a fool of herself no matter the setting and Naelle had to be impeccable. Why could Vaenna be a knight but Naelle couldn't be a husband?

The dark haired deflected, the sudden thought freezing a sinking feeling in her gut. She didn't know it yet but that was a thought that had been accompanying her for a big part of her life. Even before. I know you, from a thousand years ago. Realization.

The murmuring of a copious amount of spectators molded into the background. Naelle, overwhelmed by the things she discovered about herself, didn't notice when everyone began entering the stadium. Dutifully Maddalina pulled her along.

Once inside, the noblemen took their places exactly as they should. By rank, by wealth, by importance. Her mother and father sat next to the King and Queen, on the other side Rhaenyra and her husband. The children were meant to occupy the area at their elder's feet and that was where Naelle found the most beautiful waves of silver in a single braid reaching her waist.

Helaena turned her head and waved at the group. The dress was blue, not like a profound, obscure ocean. It was blue like a dazzling sky, and oh if she wasn't just as celestial. Complex twists and turns of decorations showered her chest and stomach in what Naelle could only conclude was meant to be constellations. She had pearls too, ivory and coral hues accentuated her beauty.

She offered her hand and Naelle, greedy and immoral, clung to it for dear life. Thin lace like fabric covered Helaena's limbs and Naelle could not help but touch the fabric.

Helaena peered at her and laughed.

"This...this is r-really pretty" It was all Naelle could manage to save her grace.

The rest of the ladies took their places and they began sharing secrets and giggling. The King made his considerations and declared the festivities open. The joust began without further ado and Maddalina couldn't help but comment on each contestant.

"Oh, he seems dashing!"

"He's wearing a helmet, how can you possibly tell?" snickered Helaena.

"I just can, I have an instinct for these things."

Amidst the glory of the tournament, the Targaryen family and noble guests gathered in awe to see who would prevail in the games. Aegon, engrossed in the match could still not help but to listen to their conversation.

"I liked the Tyrell knight."

"Of course you did, Petraena."

The girl placed a hand to her chest. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"You're securing a successful marriage," Maddalina teased.

"That's not-"

"Be truthful, for once."

There was no malice in her tone and by the playful way Petraena responded, it was all just innocuous banter. "I have seen Sir Victor's face, on contrary to some," she accentuated with a poignant glance towards Maddalina. "Thus I would know, I would be blessed with a view."

"Alright, alright," Maddalina pushed Petraena slightly, almost imperceptible to the naked eye. While Naelle and the princess chuckled to each other, the brown haired girl directed the conversation to them. "What about you, Naelle?"

"What about me?"

"Well... does any horse catch your eye?"

Naelle scrunched her nose. "Don't say it like that."

"You know, what I mean..."

She didn't need any knight, any lord. Whereas Naelle was just now regarding Helaena, the princess' eyes were already set. It shook Naelle to her core and she almost gave herself away. That was a secret she must keep.

"Hmm, I don't know. The knight from House Rogers seemed interesting."

"Sir Thord?"

"Sure," Naelle shrugged. He wasn't badly structured, he was tall, broad and athletic.

The two ladies laughed to each other, in their jive Naelle almost missed the detail. She almost missed how Helaena tightened her lips into a fine line and nodded to herself but she caught it just in time. Thinking she wasn't being observed the princess frowned until she finally noticed Naelle staring.

The Targaryen blushed and shifted her awareness towards the tournament. Naelle meant to question, she meant to whisper to the princess alone but before she could another voice sounded between them.

"I must say," Aegon announced. "It is very stupid to make such remarks. Especially about gentlemen that won't ever concern themselves with ladies of your wits."

His eyes briefly darted towards Maddalina and Petraena, a sly grin poisoning the air as he was fully conscious they wouldn't dare to disrespect a prince. It was a challenge with the risk, it was cruelty.

"It's as ridiculous as the lady that social climbs way over her stanchion," he spat towards Petraena who hid her visage. He then turned to Naelle, "as the lady who leers down to the dirt."

And that was all the permission Naelle needed to strike him back. His words hung in the air, an unspoken implication humiliating the ladies-in-waiting. Maddalina and Petraena maintained their composition, focusing on the joust before them.

"Is it not a ladies job to dream of the finest alliance to her house?" retorted Naelle.

"Yes but for goodness' sake be realistic."

"I should dream of a higher rank, then?"

"For you?" Aegon glanced up and down, with disdain. "I would suggest sackcloth..."

"Aegon!" Helaena warned.

"...lots, lots of prayers since I doubt anyone would put up with you."

Auch, such an insult. Tried as she might, Naelle couldn't prevent what she did next. She dipped her head in a wacky display and attempted to bite her tongue, but how could she? When she had such a superb hand of cards?

"Actually, I have suitors."

All eyes turned toward Naelle, a mix of curiosity and shock evident on their faces.

"Oh really?" Aegon leaned in.

"Yes, of course, I received a letter recently, from someone who wished to express their admiration. It was... a flattering note." she continued, her tone lacking the enthusiasm her words suggested. "Would you like to know what it said?"

She directed the question to her friends, and sensed Aegon tense. A murmured interest rippled through the girls but Naelle's heart wasn't in her revelation. She wasn't ready to halt the torture.

"The sender chose to remain anonymous, but their words were kind. 'Dear Naelle, You're like a flower in a garden, sweet and feathery... and I'm like a bee devoted to you. You're like the sand'..."

"Sand?" Helaena inquired.

"Yes, yes, it gets better just wait. '...laid in my hand,' I believe that's how it went."

Aegon's expression remained inscrutable, but Naelle could sense his subtle anguish. The girls, intrigued by the mysterious admirer, began speculating in hushed tones.

"It's not the worst love letter," Petraena tried.

"Ah, no," she said, her voice touched by mockery. "Quite the eloquence with words, however, I do wish his grammar skills were to improve. I can't spend the rest of my life deciphering what he means. And the calligraphy...rand, grand, band, ah sand, of course!"

Her ladies-in-waiting and Helaena stifled their laughter behind delicate hands, recognizing Naelle's attempt to lighten the mood. Momentarily, Naelle felt a pang of regret for bringing up the subject as hurt flashed through Aegon's features. He dung his hole, Naelle reminded herself.

"You should've seen him trying to rhyme sky. So astute. "

A flicker of understanding passed between Naelle and Aegon, a silent acknowledgment amidst the charade. Her friends, oblivious to the underlying exchange, chuckled lightly at Naelle's jests.

"If he was aiming to win a lady's heart with pen and parchment, he needs to double his efforts or give it up permanently."

Aegon punched the armrest and jumped from his seat. Served him right, for mocking her friends and writing such a dumb letter. Satisfied with the result, Naelle masked her vulturine-like eyes as Aegon disappeared behind the curtain and continued watching the games.

From her stand, the Queen voiced her concern. She called out to Aegon in vain. Naelle would like to say she lamented anything but the glint of triumph in her eyes was telling. The gratification of knowing her message had reached its intended recipient and had lodged her venomous paws inside, was too grand.

NOTES

Could i possibly be more especific about the letter Aegon sent? no, i will not elaborate. Naelle looking a tad bit too much like her mommy, oh well :D