Gods and Men

T W E N T Y - O N E

Elaena had been to Driftmark many times, but now it felt cold and empty. Baela and Rhaena wouldn't stop weeping, and Daemon was hardly ever seen. The ship had been silent on their journey, neither Rhaenyra nor Viserys relenting. Jace wasn't speaking to her, but Luke seemed to have no opinion on the matter. Even now, at dinner, Jace avoided her gaze. Everyone ate silently, the absence of Laena weighing heavily on them all. Well, Elaena's family at least. Aegon was indifferent, Helaena was in her own world as usual, and Aemond seemed to be lost in thought, his eyes slowly roaming the room. 

"I'm sorry for what happened." She broke the silence, dropping her spoon and turning to her grandparents. "I wish we all had more time with her."

"Thank you, Elaena." Corlys offered a sad smile and patted her hand across the table. 

"Thank you," Rhaenys said after he tapped her shoulder. "For your kind words."

They all fell into silence again, and everyone quickly departed to their rooms. The funeral was going to be held the following morning and it seemed like people needed time to prepare. Elaena only saw her father once when they arrived, a quiet greeting before returning to his chambers. He refused visitors, even his own children were sent away. But when the night came, he called for Rhaenyra. 

Elaena lay in her bed, except it wasn't hers, it was a guest bed. She imagined this was what her bed on Dragonstone would feel like; foreign, unfamiliar. The ships carried on ahead to Dragonstone so that everything would be ready for their arrival, but no matter how much of her stuff would fill the room it would never feel like hers. None of it mattered anyway, soon enough she'd be shipped off to Dorne where she wouldn't bother anyone. At least Jace would be happy with her gone.

She folded her arms across her stomach and stared up at the ceiling, imagining she was flying on dragonback. Nothing ever bothered her up there, but she always had to come down eventually. A roar came from outside, loud enough to make her cover her ears. She looked out the window to see Vhagar's shadow flying overhead, toward the sand dunes. She wondered if she was grieving her rider; that sort of bond just disappearing was bound to bring on some form of sadness, even for a dragon. At some point, she managed to fall asleep, and she dreamed of fire.

Her mother laid out a simple black dress for her, something plain enough to show respect but not too plain that it was unfit for a princess to wear. She brushed her hair and braided it before pinning it to her head in a tight, low bun. 

"You look lovely." Rhaenyra smiled and cradled her face in her hands, rubbing her thumbs against her cheeks. 

"Do you think Harwin's funeral had many people?" She asked, frowning.

"Yes, and I wish we could have gone, but our duty is to be here with our family." 

"He was our family!" She pulled her mother's hands away. "We should be mourning him too!"

Rhaenyra sighed and quickly shut the door before kneeling down in front of her. "We are mourning him, but we are doing it privately. There are going to be many eyes on us today and we can't say or do anything to draw unnecessary attention. If someone asks, we will tell them we are saddened by his death, but Laena was our family. Should someone ask about your betrothal, you will act happy."

"But–"

"My love, your first blood won't be from your flowering, it will be from biting your tongue. We are in a very precarious situation and we must have tact." She reached forward and smoothed back her hair. "Now come with me to fetch your father."

Laenor's room was dark, the curtains blocking out any sun that could have shone in through the windows. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his back to them. He didn't bother turning his head when the door opened, he simply slumped forward and sighed.