What is honor compared to a woman's love?
What is duty against the feel of a newborn son in your arms . . . or the memory of a brother's smile?
Wind and words. Wind and words.
We are only human, and the gods have fashioned us for love.
That is our g...
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273 AC - THE RED KEEP, KING'S LANDING
Her day had begun like any other, rising early- skies still slightly purple as the sun began to rise, and asking her handmaidens to prepare a steaming bath.
The smell of chamomile and orange filled the room as the essential oils were poured into the steaming water of her bath. Elaena's feet padded across the floor of her bed chambers, before dropping her robe to the floor. She stripped herself of her sleeping silks, before stepping into the water. Instantly, the feeling of warmth absorbed her, a shudder shook her body with pleasure, lowering herself fully into the heat. She almost moaned when fully submerged in the water, steam rising and sticking to all surfaces within reach.
Her handmaidens massaged her hair, cleaning the golden silver locks thoroughly, though Elaena would rinse the soaps out herself- not wanting her handmaidens to burn their hands on the water. The heat of the bath soothed her breasts, tender and sore as her body prepared for its moon blood.
The first time she flowered, the young princess had cried. She knew what it meant- and she was terrified. She was a girl of only ten and four, innocent and pure, but in the eyes of everybody else, she was now a woman fit to bear her husband's children.
"Thank the Gods!" Her father had exclaimed excitedly upon hearing the news from Grand Maester Pycelle. "Hopefully she will be able to do what her mother couldn't!"
It was those words that scared her most, for her physical build mirrored that of her mothers. The young princess was a delicate girl, small-breasted with narrow hips. She had been witness to the struggle many pregnancies', and subsequent miscarriages had on the Queen, and she was terrified to think- this is my future.
Her father had once been sympathetic with the Queen upon hearing of the loss, comforted her even. Though after multiple stillbirths, miscarriages, and children not living past the cradle, her father grew almost suspicious. He would accuse her mother of not remaining faithful to him as a wife, calling the dead children bastards. It was roughly three years ago when Queen Rhaella was confined to the walls of Maegor's Holdfast, only allowed to leave with orders from the King, usually to attend court. The most shameful thing was her father's decree that Queen Rhaella would have two septas sleep in her bed chambers', to ensure she remained faithful to her King. Her mother had just given birth to a baby boy, born named Aegon, premature coming two moons early. He had recently died- never making it out of his cradle. Her mother was once again devastated, and her father made it no easier on her.
Though, the thoughts still plagued her mind daily. No matter how many times she tried to convince herself that Rhaegar would treat her gently, and with love, she still worried.
Once again lost within her mind, she lay in the bath for as long as she could until the water became too cold her for preferences. Rising from the water, she accepted a hand from Lily, one of her handmaidens. She was toweled dry before being grabbed in a silk robe and led to her vanity.
