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"Gods it is cold here." Pavarti whispered to herself, wrapping her scarves closer to her body as yet another now crippled man was pulled from the floors of the tourney hall before the royal box. "I do not know how you can bare it."
"I do not know myself." Elia said with a little laugh, holding her newborn daughter close to her chest. "Truly sister, you did not have to come along. These are so trivial."
"No no your husband is performing is he not?" Pavarti said, her expression noticeably tightening as she mentioned the silver prince. "I need something new to belittle him about, other than-"
"Hush Pavarti." Elia said warningly, her eyes flickering to the King who sat above them a few seats away. "Do not him hear you. I know your jests are merely jests but to him..."
Pavarti sighed, refusing to glance at the decrepit King her sister was speaking of. the last time she had seen King Aerys Targaryen had been at her sisters wedding two years ago. Pavarti had been but six and ten at the time but she did not shrink away even then from the sight of the cruel king. But now... things were different.
Aerys' appearance had began to deteriorate after his captivity during the Defiance of Duskendale. He afterwards refused to wash, and would not allow anyone to cut his hair, trim his beard, or cut his fingernails due to his fear of being touched. As a result, his hair grew past his shoulders to his waist and became matted, his beard tangled, and his fingernails grew to be yellow talons of almost a foot long.
He looked far older and far fiercer than he actually was, Pavarti had thought when reunited with the Targaryen family. Something stirred within her at the sight of him. And nothing good.
"The Lord to be, Robert of House Baratheon will now be jousting against the Prince Oberyn of House Martell!" The announcer called out, much to the excitement of the crowd itself.
"Ah this will be good." Pavarti exclaimed with a little smile, delighting in the change of topic as she leaned forward to watch her brother and his newest competitor. "Expect a bet, sister."
Pavarti watched as her brother, Oberyn Martell the Red Viper, came trotting in on his sleek white mare. Her elder brother by only a few years, was a trained warrior. Let that be known, he was no knight.
Her gaze was quickly stolen from her brother to the second participant of this joust, a large figure atop a stallion who looked as though its coat was stolen from the night sky at its blackest. Beneath his helmet, Pavarti could not see his face but she noticed his hands were rough and coarse where they gripped his reigns. He seemed strong and powerful, and muscled.
"Like a maiden's fantasy is he not?" Elia said teasingly, noticing how her sister's eyes lingered on the man. Pavarti turned to her sister with a raised brow and Elia rolled her eyes with a small smile. "Do not think like that, I love Rhaegar. But I cannot deny that Robert Baratheon does not catch the eyes of every woman at court and beyond. I would be a fool to say I did not recognise such handsomeness, if you will."
Pavarti smiled with a jest glinting in her eyes but before she could speak, a coarse and rugged voice broke the cheers that surrounded them all.
"My Prince." Robert Baratheon called to Oberyn who still had an amused smile on his face as they each took their positions. "Are you prepared to lose?"
As he spoke, Robert pulled his helm from his head and Pavarti got a proper look at the mans face. He had the classic Baratheon look; with thick dark hair and piercing ocean blue eyes that fell on her as they flicked to the Royal Box.
And they paused.
Honey brown eyes bled into ocean blue.
And the heavens held their breath.
Until, the Red Viper spoke once more and broke the moment. Robert's eyes were pulled from Pavarti's and the princess found herself needing to swallow.
"That's what I should be asking you, Lord Baratheon." Oberyn called out, winking at the man who rolled his eyes good-naturedly before pulling his helm back atop his head. "Let us joust!"
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The day of activities ended with Robert beating Oberyn but promptly losing to the silver prince, Rhaegar Targaryen, but two rounds later. But ever the nobleman, he walked off his wounds and shook hands with the man and returned to his tent.
Haunted by honey brown eyes.
"The girl beside the Princess Elia." Robert asked Eddard as his dear friend helped him undress from his armour in his tent. "A serving girl?"
"Have you ever seen. serving girl in such silks, Rob?" Ned said with a chortle as he pulled the chest plate from its holdings. "She's her sister, the Princess Pavarti."
Robert had heard of Elia's little sister, of course, tales of a a girl as beautiful as the sun in Dorne was scorching had reached the ears of many a Westerosi nobleman and many had sent their sons with potential betrothals to Sunspear but had been rejected at every turn.
Robert had never been sent for he had, at that time, been betrothed to Lyanna Stark. Something that had been dissolved but some moons earlier due to Lyanna protesting so vehemently to any form of betrothal that after some years, her parents had relented.
Robert had not truly cared, if Lyanna would have been so very unhappy in their marriage he would preferred it had never gone ahead. Lyanna had then been betrothed to Jaime Lannister, something he was sure Lyanna would protest to yet again.
He had not troubled himself yet with betrothals or even looking for a wife. No woman had piqued his interest before. Until now, of course.
"Pavarti." Robert hummed thoughtfully. "Did she ever find a husband?"
"I am sure she could find one easily." Ned stated simply, setting down the spaulders on the table beside them. "It's more that I do not believe she is in want of one yet."
"Is that so?"
"She's practically beating them off with a stick." Ned snorted lightly. "Some believe that if Rhaegar had set eyes on the younger sister, the elder would still be in Sunspear."
Robert could not help but think it to be true. Through Elia was a beauty in her own right, she was a delicate one, as delicate as her own health. She was unbelievably slender, with black eyes as black as her hair, and a flat chest. On the other hand, from what he could gather, Pavarti was buxom and beautiful, with olive skin, large dark eyes and long, thick black hair that fell in ringlets to the middle of her back.
And honey brown eyes that seemed to have melted his own for he could see no other, even when he closed his eyes.
"Ah so Robert Baratheon has finally found a love?" Ned jested as Robert pulled on an actual shirt after cleaning the slight stain of blood from his shin. Robert rolled his eyes at his friends tone. "It's about time."
"I don't think you can truly talk, brother." Robert threw back as he and Ned exited the tent and made their way into Harrenhal to truly change before the nights festivities. "Do not think I don't see how you stare at the Dayne girl."
"Ashara?"
"Oh you're on a first name basis with her, yes?" The Baratheon teased as his friend turned a deep shade of pink as he flushed with embarrassment. "Lady Ashara Stark has a ring to it..."
"Oh shut it-" Ned said, still flushed pink as he shoved Robert who merely laughed as they turned a corner and came face to face with the two Dornish princess' who had been he topic of their earlier conversation.
Robert blinked as both he and Ned stopped din their tracks. Pavarti and Elia had both very clearly changed for the feast that evening.
Elia, although favouring the colours of House Martell, dressed in the style most Westerosi women wore in a high collared gown of gold with suns sewn delicately along the waist and collar. Her hair was also in a Westerosi style though far more laid back than most other women's in a subtle half up style with the crown of Valyrian steel that had been a gift on her wedding day atop her head.
But Robert found he much preferred Pavarti's look that evening.
She had dressed herself in simple yet elegant Dornish gown of a deep emerald with a circlet of a simple golden sun atop her loose, gently curled flowing hair which fell to her waist. There was also a golden belt in a similar style around her waist with emphasised her curves in the most lovely of ways.
She was a vision.
"Princess Elia, Princess Pavarti." Ned greeted, remembering social protocols far more quickly than Robert had seemed to as both men bowed for the Dornish girls. "You both look beautiful this evening."
"Thank you, my Lord." Elia said with the soft smile she was known for, gesturing to the men as she turned to her sister. "Pavarti allow me to introduce Eddard Stark, son of Rickard Stark and Robert Baratheon, son of Lord Steffon Baratheon."
"Ah so you are the man who had the pleasure of unseating my brother." Pavarti said with a smile far more mischievous than her sisters as she turned to Robert. "Tell me, was it as wonderful a feeling as it looked?"
Robert chuckled at her words, enjoying the way Pavarti's viper like smile seemed to brighten at that.
"Your brother was a worthy opponent but I would be a liar if I did not admit I enjoyed taking the win, your majesty." Robert said, bowing his head lightly at the girl who waved off his formalities.
"Please if I hear your majesty one more time I will unhorse you, my lord." Pavarti stated simply, her own laugh escaping her lips as she turned to her sister who had rolled her eyes a little at her.
"I apologise, my lords." Elia stated, sending Pavarti a pointed look. "My little sister has not been at court for long, it seems to bore her."
"Trust me, your majesty." Robert said, smiling lightly at Elia before his eyes fell once more on Pavarti. "I myself am bored by such formalities. It is refreshing to know I am not the only one."
Pavarti's eyes met Robert's once again, ocean blue meeting honey brown for the second time that day and most definitely not the last. And Robert made a choice.
"Is your dance card open, Pavarti?"
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