For almost her entire life, Daella Targaryen has lived as Mellara Rivers, the bastard daughter of Arnold Arryn and cupbearer of Lady Jeyne Arryn. First and trueborn daughter of Princess Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daella had but slight contact with her fami...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
F I F T Y - O N E
But I know you'll take me with you We'll live in spaces between walls ─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
Despite the imminent prospect of war lingering in all aspects of life, a grand feast was thrown to celebrate that the first Queen of Westeros was carrying an heir. It was not only the festivities that lifted the mood of all the high lords and ladies backing the Greens, but also the knowledge that whatever battles may be waged in the near future, the child would sit on the Throne either way. The feast was held exactly three weeks after the confrontation on Dragonstone and followed after a small jousting tourney in which knights got to prove their valour and worth once more, as well as audition for the Queensguard unbeknownst to them.
Daella laughed at the joke Lady Jeyne made, feeling absolutely delighted at the presence of her aunt. Just as she had expected, the Maiden of the Vale had declined the proposal to stay as Daella's guest for over half a year, but she had promised to stay a week for the feast and for the expected last two weeks of her pregnancy. That was enough for Daella to lift up her spirits.
Leaning back in her chair at the head of the table and taking a sip from her honeyed milk, Daella looked at the lords and ladies seated at her and Aemond's table. From the moment she had arrived at Kingslanding, she had despised every single one of them, with the exception of Lady Jeyne and Lady Jessamyn, for so shamelessly supporting the vile treatment and accusations thrown at her mother moons ago. That distaste had grown into hatred as they cheered on Aemond in usurping the Iron Throne, while completely dishonoring the vows they had sworn to Rhaenyra before the said Throne. Now Daella relied upon them for not only her own safety, but that of her child as well. The milk turned sour in her mouth at the realisation.
The sensation of Aemond's strong hand coming to rest on her leg made her snap out of her thoughts and feeling a smile come to her face, she looked up into his violet eye.
"What is it, hmm?" he asked softly, the words barely audible to those surrounding them. The deep vibration of her husband's voice whenever he spoke in High Valyrian was enough to make Daella's mind blank. "Why are you frowning?"
"Just a thought," Daella replied just as quietly, shrugging her shoulders. "Nothing of importance."
"Tell me later," Aemond mused, his eye already focused on something else.
Daella followed the line of his gaze, watching with interest as one of the knights entered the gigantic dining hall hurriedly. He bent down to whisper something into the Hand's ear, who gave him curt instructions in return. The household knight left the room just as quickly he had arrived and Otto Hightower bent himself in the direction of Aemond, relaying the message. Daella kept a side-eye on the conversation while pretending to chuckle at a witty joke from some lady from Oldtown dressed in a green dress that oddly resembled the one the Dowager Queen was wearing.
