𝓔𝓵𝓪𝓮𝓷𝓪 𝓥𝓮𝓵𝓪𝓻𝔂𝓸𝓷
The afternoon hadn't turned out to be as terrible as I initially thought. Cregan had come on strong from the beginning asking for a tour of the capital and to keep up appearances I agreed.

The young Lord was nice enough and if I hadn't already been hopelessly in love with Aemond, there might have been a chance for him yet.

Escorting me to chambers Aemond seems to care less and less about hiding our relationship and I along with him.

Pinned against the walls in the dragonpit he fucked me until I didn't remember where we were and told me he'd marry me. Hardly a romantic proposal but it was his, and that's all that mattered and now it was all I could think about.

"You'll be at the feast tonight?" I ask, linking my arm with his, nervous I'll have to face the evening without him.

"Of course. I won't be far if you need anything." He replies, his mind drifting elsewhere.

"Does a dance count?" Smiling sweetly up at him his lips tip up into a sexy half smile at my silly request.

"I said anything, my love." Reaching my chamber doors he twirls me into his arms and presses a soft kiss to my temple.

Smiling up at him the door opens from behind me and I almost stumble backwards if it weren't for Aemond.

Turning to meet the eyes of my fuming father I falter, stepping a step back into Aemond's chest.

"Go, now." He motions his head urging Aemond away but he doesn't move, his arm instead snaking around my waist in defiance.

Daemon opens the door wider, stepping aside growing more irritated the longer I hesitate. Squeezing Aemond's hand I step through the door, giving him a reassuring smile.

Biting his lip he looks me over with concern but Daemon was my father, he'd never do anything to hurt me.

Shutting the door in his face, my father's rage turns to me but I don't back away when he approaches, I stand my ground.

"Have you gone mad?! You're to be betrothed to the Stark lord and you left him in the dragon pits-"

"You think I don't know that? I've chosen someone else, I choose Aemond." I don't bother keeping my voice down. The entire capital could hear, I didn't want this feast, this tourney, the wedding, any of it.

"We don't all get to choose. There may come a day the greens dispute your mothers claim to the throne, the North is essential-" coming closer he keeps his voice low but it's still threatening only fueling me more.

"We'd both have the throne if it passed to Aemond and I."

"Are you as blind as to not see that's why he's shown such interest in you, Elaena? He's been put up to it but his cunt Mother and Grandfather. They want to ruin the arrangement before it's even begun." He spits.

Nostrils flaring, I keep my hands balled up at my sides glaring at my father for saying such a thing, "You're wrong." I say through clenched teeth, unwelcomed tears threatening to fall.

"It's not you his heart desires, it's the iron throne he wants." Coming to stand in front of me he takes my shoulders and I think he's going to try to shake some sense into me.

Staring straight back into his chaotic purple eyes that reflect my own, something breaks inside of me that I can't quite place and like Seasmoke I breathe fire.

"Was it not my mother you desired? Or was it her throne? You're hardly one to lecture on duty and bethrothel." He knows I'm right so he avoids my angry stare, backing away with his hands on his hips, his face contorting in anger.

On a roll I continue, not realizing to stop while I'm ahead. "After all it was your affair that brought me into the realm, it only makes sense I continue such a tradition, marrying my Uncle as well-"

"You'll speak of it no more, Elaena. You will feast with the Starks and wed one when the time comes and your Mother will not hear a word of this. Understood?" My father comes so close I wonder for a moment if he'll grip me by my throat.

Refusing to respond all I can do is stare daggers at him. Though he had both of his eyes, my father was blind to his hypocrisy.

Biting my tongue a lone tear cascades down my cheek but it's far from a sad cry, it's one of fury.

I'd been the perfect daughter. Respectful and studious, nurturing but fierce and it still wasn't enough. This was the one thing I wanted for myself.

I keep my mouth shut, unwilling to agree.

Satisfied with my silence my father goes for the door, slamming it shut behind him without another look at me.

I would not wed Cregan Stark. I belonged with Aemond and if my father refused to see that, I'd take fate into my own hands hoping in my heart of hearts I was making the right decision.

***

Sending away the handmaidens sent to help me prepare for the feast, I spend hours in the tub mulling over what it was Aemond and I should do.

A part of me wished to flee all responsibility together. Travel from city to city learning first hand of cultures we'd only read about in our textbooks searching for our lost dragon wherever it may take us.

The steaming water had long gone cold. Stepping from its dirtied water I wrap the towel around myself going to the mirror.

Tilting my head I get a look at my love marks that had yet to fade and a smile tugs at my lips for the first time all evening.

I'd see him soon but we'd act like strangers forced to stand apart only to gaze lustfully at one another from different corners of the room.

He'd be forced to watch me dance with Cregan, listen to false speeches of unity among houses that would not be joined and all under the scrutiny of my father and brothers.

Laid on my bed was a white dress unfamiliar to me. I'd rarely worn anything other than black, it was my color after all so this was quite literally the opposite.

A necklace was placed besides it nothing like the one I still wore around my neck from Aemond. This piece of jewelry was gold, the diamond like crystals a complete contrast to my beloved black sapphire.

Ignoring the choices made for me I make my own sifting through my trunk of dresses not yet warn and find the one I'd been saving.

Holding it up into the light I make sure all of its intricate pieces are still in place. The bodice makes a deep v displaying my chest well, almost too well. The shoulders are wide but sharp, crystals sewed into the fabric keeping it's feminine touch.

There wouldn't be a head in the room not turned when I walked through the door. They'd expect me in a white traditional gown, Aemond included and he was who I wished to surprise the most.

Taking my time getting ready I make sure everything is just right. Having no choice but to keep my hair down I put loose intricate braids around the front of my face.

When I'm sure the times right I take a deep breath and embark on my journey alone to the throne room praying to the gods I'm not seen.

The many joyous voices of the lords and ladies from inside echoed into the halls, the anticipation of my entrance growing uncomfortably.

Nodding to the two knights who guarded the entrance even their expressions drop when noticing my apparel. I hardly looked as if I was getting married soon, though gorgeous my dress was more fitting for a funeral and if this went south it could be mine.

Taking my first step inside my eyes are frantic searching for Aemond in the crowds of strangers. Once I'm seen a hush falls over everyone and all heads slowly turn to me.

Keeping my head up high I hear the whispers but I ignore them. Approaching the front table that housed my entire family along with the Starks I don't know whom to look at first.

My father's eyes are of a red fury his grip on his knife making his fists turn white while my mother stared at me in confusion along with my brothers.

On the end of the table sat the Hightowers, Aemond at the head of the table sat strategically to be able to see me from my seat meant to be between Cregan and my father.

When Aemond's gaze locks with mine as I approach the table he licks his lips sitting back in his chair watching me with a heated haze I recognize. With a proud smirk he chances a glance over at my father who looked ready to kill the both of us but I didn't care for by the end of it all, it was Aemond I'd be wed too and there was nothing him or anyone could do to stop it.

***