#♛ ¦ interactions ༺ dcviline.

[myrc3lla]

@dcviline gets a starter for arondir.

Silven   Elves   are   those   she   is   familiar   with.   Something   about   them   had   always   filled   the   princess   with   joyful   delight.   They   had   been   around   her   as   she   grew   up   in   her   father's   court,   and   when   she   could,   she   would   visit Greenwood   and   the   elves   that   lived   there.   She   found   they   were   great   allies   and   more   often   than   not,   her   mother   would   not   accept   anyone   as   her   sworn   shield   if   they   were   not   a   silven   elf   whose   eyes   were   sharper   than   anything   else.   Arondir   seem   to   fit   that   requirement   for   her   those   days,   a   companion   in   her   travel   back   home,   the   long   way   around.   Myrcella   does   not   enjoy   being   a   meek   princess,   her   father   having   been   as   strong as   the   storms   that   haunted   their   lands,   and   an   uncle   who   was   as   famous   as   he   had   been   infamous.

  She   wanted   to   learn   how   to   at   least   defend   herself   and   if   not,   defend   others,   and   while   practice   with   a   knife   had   been   smooth,   archery   is   a   whole   different   business.   The   snap   of   the   string   hurts   her   fingers   and   she   is   not   sure   how   he   makes   it   looks   so   seamless.   "Are   you   sure   elves   have   pain   nerves?   How   do   you   keep   going?"   She   jest,   as   she   looks   down   at   her   hand,   fingers   red   from   the   force   as   she   looks   at   the   target   he   had   postured   for   her.  

Not   a   great   shot,   if   her   intent   was   for   the   orc   to   live,   of   course.   She   had   to   learn   how   to   do   better.   Emerald   eyes   shine   bright   as   she   settles   the   bow   on   the   table   and   look   back   at   the   elf   with   kind   curiosity.   He   never   speaks   much,   but   she   does   feel   his   eyes   on   her   at   times.   It's   delightfully   nerve wracking   but   she   is   not   sure   it's   out   of   fear.   She   does   not   fear   him.   

[zobriezalarys]

@dcviline asked: What happened to the art of seduction? A woman enjoys being seduced. (Mysaria)

"Women   do,   yes.   But   Dragons   are   more   impatient.   Things   are   different   here   than   in   Lys."   They   might   have   princes   but   none   are   dragonriders,   none   are   men   like   him.   A   beauty   like   no   other,   he   had   made   sure   that   no   other   man   would   touch   her   that   night,   or   any   other   night.   The   room   is   specially   made   for   him,   and   who   would   be   his   favorite.   He   has   a   feeling   it   would   be   her.  

"If   I   recall,   something   about   pearls   is   involved,   correct?   But   so   far   I   see   none.   Perhaps   you   hid   them   from   me.   Your   Prince."   How   rude,   but   his   tone   is   a   jest,   hands   moving   on   her   hips   and   pushing   her   to   the   wall,   looking   up   and   down   to   her   frame.   "Should   I   inspect   you,   then?"

[kronulv]

@dcviline asked: ❝ We fuck. It doesn’t need to be more complicated than that. ❞ (thaena)

𝕳𝖊   𝖍𝖆𝖉   𝖆𝖑𝖜𝖆𝖞𝖘   𝖇𝖊𝖊𝖓   𝖆   𝖒𝖆𝖓   𝖔𝖋   𝖍𝖔𝖓𝖔𝖗,   𝖆   𝖒𝖆𝖓   𝖜𝖍𝖔   𝖐𝖊𝖕𝖙   𝖍𝖎𝖘   𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉   𝖆𝖓𝖉   𝖋𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙   𝖋𝖔𝖗   𝖜𝖍𝖆𝖙   𝖍𝖊   𝖇𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖉   𝖎𝖓.   But   with   Thaena   beneath   him,   her   fierce   words   ringing   in   his   ears,   he   found   himself   battling   against   more   than   just   the   enemies   of   the   North.   He   was   battling   against   the   walls   she   had   built   around   her   heart.   Sweat   drips   from   her   body   as   it   presses   against   his   own,   and   he   made   her   turn   to   face   him   as   he   made   what   he   wants   to   say   clear,   but   never   once   leaving   that   delicious   heat   of   hers.

But   Robb   wasn’t   one   to   back   down.   His   hands   tightened   on   her   hips,   his   movements   slowing,   deliberate.   He   wasn’t   just   trying   to   prove   a   point;   he   was   trying   to   make   her   feel   it,   understand   it.   He   lowered   his   thrusts,   dragging   her   body   with   his   own,   letting   the   weight   of   his   emotions   press   into   her   with   every   slow,   deep   stroke.   The   bed   creaked   beneath   them,   a   steady   rhythm   that   matched   the   beat   of   his   heart.

"It’s   not   just   fucking,"   he   growled,   his   voice   rough   with   intensity.   "Not   when   it   feels   like   this.   Not   when   it’s   you."   But   Thaena   was   stubborn,   just   as   stubborn   as   he   was,   and   she   didn’t   give   in   easily.   Still,   Robb   held   her   gaze,   willing   her   to   see   what   he   felt,   to   understand   that   this   was   more   than   just   a   physical   act   for   him.   As   he   slowed   his   pace   even   further,   his   breath   hot   against   her   neck,   he   whispered,   "Tell   me   it   doesn’t   feel   different.   Tell   me   you   don’t   feel   it   too."   And   one   of   his   hands   squeezes   a   breast,   taking   of   the   weight   of   it   on   his   fingers,   before   mouth   moves   to   capture   hardened   nipple.

[drcanerys]

A   new   marriage   that   is   as   loveless   as   the   other.   At   least,   she   had   a   choice   in   this   one,   though   the   choice   of   husband   left   much   to   be   desired.   Not   in   looks,   for   Hizdahr   was   handsome   and   when   he   came   to   her   bed   with   the   strength   she   needed,   a   good   lover.   But   it   felt   like   inviting   an   enemy   those   days,   to   let   her   touch   her   and   maybe   put   a   babe   in   her   belly   when   she   suspects   he   is   there   to   kill   her.   His   body   she   can   use   and   enjoy   but   his   heart   is   fickle.

@dcviline asked: ❝ Sometimes it feels as if you do not trust me. ❞ (hizdahr)

As   they   lay   in   bed   side   by   side,   Daenerys   looks   back   in   turn.   "I   don't.   Do   you   trust   me?   Truly.   Harpies   would   say   I   am   here   to   burn   all   you   built,   and   take   it   all   for   myself."   It   is   not   what   she   wants.   She   wants   home.   She   dreams   of   a   land   she   never   seen   but   only   in   dreams.   "How   can   you   prove   your   loyalty   to   me?   I   have   done   what   you   asked   and   opened   the   fighting   pits,   despite   my   dislike   for   them."   Forced   slaves   to   fight,   perhaps   a   new   law   should   be   made   to   avoid   such   a   thing   but   she   received   not   much   in   turn.   "My   bed   is   cold   for   you   not   share   passion   for   me   as   I   desire   it."   She   would   be   bare   naked   in   a   bath   in   the   middle   of   a   room   and   she   is   certain   he   would   not   look   twice   to   her.   It   frustrated   her,   when   every   other   man   seems   to   want   her,   and   her   crown.

[vis3rys]

@dcviline asked: ❛ we shouldn’t - ah , we shouldn’t be doing this . ❜ (daenaera)

He   keeps   undressing   her   as   she   speaks.   She   complains,   but   she   moans   in   turn   when   his   mouth   nibbles   on   her   ear,   down   her   neck,   and   she   is   pressed   under   him   on   the   bed,   his   hands   wander   over   covered   skirts   and   lift   them   with   tortorous   pace.   Daenaera   complains   but   her   neck   is   exposed   for   the   taking   and   Viserys   takes   and   takes.   "Why?   Because   we   are   not   wed?   We   will   be,   little   one.   Don't   you   worry.   And   I'll   take   what   I   want   from   my   future   wife."   Simple   as   that.   His   hand   opens   her   legs,   each   on   the   side   of   his   own   to   leave   room,   his   ring   finger   moves   between   them   and   find   her   there,   wet,   and   when   he   touches   her,   she   shivers,   causing   him   to   grin   against   the   skin   of   her   neck,   his   nose   pressing   against   the   hardness   of   her   nipple.   "Tell   me   you   don't   want   this.  

Forget   what   others   will   say,   ñuha   embar   byka   jaesa.   And   think   of   yourself."   He   presses   further,   moving   her   smallclothes   to   the   side   and   separating   her   lips,   introducing   a   finger   inside   her,   and   he   groans   at   how   good   it   feels.   Wet   as   the   sea   of   her   house.   And   he   wants   to   drink   it.   "Does   that   feel   good?   Think   you   can   take   another   one?   Take   my   cock   then?   I'll   rise   you   up   so   high,   we   will   fly   again   like   dragons."   His   free   hand   removes   one   of   her   sleeves   to   reveal   her   breast,   a   lick   of   his   tongue   against   it,   travelling   up   to   her   mouth,   as   he   whispers   against   it.   "I   bet   you   will   ride   me   like   a   boat   rides   the   sea,   sweet   one."

[myrc3lla]

@dcviline asked: “I am very much alive. Or do you need another kiss to prove it?”

Myrcella   stood   in   the   dimly   lit   hall,   the   weight   of   her   mother’s   schemes   still   heavy   in   her   mind,   but   Harry   of   Pyke's   voice   cut   through   her   frustration.   He   was   standing   there,   daring   as   ever,   a   sly   smirk   playing   on   his   lips.

For   a   moment,   the   anger   that   had   been   simmering   beneath   Myrcella’s   surface   threatened   to   flare,   but   his   presence—his   boldness—began   to   cool   it,   as   it   often   did.   She   should   be   furious.   Cersei’s   interference   had   been   incessant,   yet   here   he   was   again,   unbothered,   taunting   her   with   that   same   roguish   charm.

Her   lips   curved   into   a   faint   smile,   one   that   didn’t   quite   reach   her   eyes.   "A   kiss?"   she   echoed   softly,   stepping   closer   to   him,   her   voice   dripping   with   mock   consideration.   "You   might   need   to   do   more   than   that   to   prove   you’re   real   this   time."

Myrcella   reached   for   the   hem   of   his   pants,   fingers   grazing   the   fabric   as   she   tugged   him   toward   her,   the   distance   between   them   disappearing   in   an   instant.   She   looked   up   at   him,   the   playful   edge   in   her   voice   now   matched   by   the   fire   in   her   gaze.   "If   you   want   to   convince   me,   Harry,   you're   going   to   have   to   try   harder   than   just   a   kiss."

[drcanerys]

@dcviline asked: ❝ You must think me a fool. ❞ ( quentyn )

"I   do   not.   Though   I   might   think   you   unwise,   my   dragons   had   been   chained   for   a   while   now   and   human   contact   was   rare.   You   could've   died."   He   had   a   few   burns   as   it   was   expected,   but   he   thinks   the   medicine   in   Mereen   will   do   him   well,   and   Daario   had   sailed   to   Braavos   in   order   to   get   more   supplies.   But   it   seems   she   is   not   starting   any   war   with   Dorne   anytime   soon   by   sending   one   of   their   sons   crisp   by   her   children.   "If   this   was   another   occasion,   I   might   had   consider   you   brave   but   one   should   expect   a   prince   to   be   less   reckless."  

Daenerys   points   out,   pulling   from   a   tray   a   cup   of   ale   with   medicine   for   him   to   take,   it   was   good   he   was   in   talking   mood,   his   whole   company   awaiting   news   that   he   was   alive   and   well.   "Many   are   not   so   lucky   to   survive   dragon   fire.   Perhaps   it   is   true   that   you   have   some   diluted   dragon   blood   in   you."   As   far   as   she   knows,   her   namesake   had   taken   a   Dornish   man   for   a   husband   and   perhaps   that   saved   this   young   man   from   being   completely   burn.   "Now   you   have   to   rest,   once   you   are   well   we   can   talk   plenty   of   your   plans   to   wed   me   and   all   your   father   told   you   to   tell   me."

[kronulv]

@dcviline asked: ❝ Do you think I am blind? ❞ ( hizdahr )

The   King   in   the   North   does   not   flinch   at   the   voice,   as   he   keeps   his   eyes   on   the   feast   before   them.   Just   a   casual   one   for   all   the   guests,   he   turn   to   look   at   Hizdahr,   mantaining   that   Stark   stoicism   that   is   well   know   across   the   sea.   "I   do   not   think   you   are   blind,   Your   Grace.   But   it   would   help   to   know   what   you   are   talking   about.   Should   I   know   what   is   bothering   you?"  

The   northern   man   offers   a   pleasant   smile,   hiding   behind   it   the   awareness   of   the   issue.   Robb   knows   well   enough   what   he   is   speaking   off,   his   visits   to   Daenerys'   room   and   the   walks   they   do   often,   as   well   how   frecuent   Dany   sends   Sariah   to   the   man's   room   to   tire   him   out.   

[kronulv]

@dcviline asked: ❛ did i say you could stop? ❜ (thaena)

"Is   that   a   way   to   speak   to   your   King,   m'lady?"   He   speaks,   as   he   had   stopped   his   mouth   between   her   legs   and   clean   her   dry   of   her   wetness,   he   has   a   wicked   smile   upon   his   lips   as   he   does   so,   his   hand   already   unfasting   the   lace   of   her   vest   and   removing   it   out   of   the   way.   He   wanted   to   see   all   of   her.   "As   much   as   I   would   enjoy   to   do   this   all   night,   something   else   aches   to   feel   you,   Thaena."   He   crawls   back   to   take   her   mouth   on   his   own,   letting   her   taste   herself   as   he   kisses   her,   his   breeches   pulled   down   as   he   brace   a   leg   of   hers   around   his   waist   and   grind   his   hips   against   her   core,   letting   her   feel   the   weight   of   his   cock   against   her   heat,   it's   so   slick   he   can   slide   back   and   forward   as   much   as   he   likes.  

To   tease   her,   a   hand   guides   himself   to   her   entrance   while   the   other   holds   on   her   neck.   Staring   back   as   he   enters   her   and   groans   at   how   good   she   feels.   "I   give   the   commands   here   in   the   North,   villblomsten   min."   He   whispers   against   her   ear   as   he   makes   a   particular   hard   thrust   inside   her,   letting   the   bed   shake   with   him   as   he   does   so.   Teeth   nip   at   her   jawline,   collarbone   as   he   whispers   back.   "Move   your   hips   with   me.   Make   me   fit   whole   inside   you."

[kronulv]

@dcviline asked: ❝ So it seems that I may wed again. Are you happy for me? ❞ (catelyn)

He   hums   instead   of   giving   a   proper   response.   He   never   imagined   his   mother   would   be   wed   again.   Many   things   had   happened   to   reach   here.   His   father   is   dead,   half   of   his   siblings   too,   he   wears   a   crown   and   his   mother   apparently,   seems   to   like   her   bethrodal   enough   that   she   does   not   seem   to   mind   to   wed   Old   Mallister.   "You   sure   have   a   type,   mother."   He   reminds   him   of   father   at   times,   and   he   is   good   friends   with   Patrek   to   know   Jason   Mallister   would   treat   his   mother   with   kindness.   She   had   expressed   she   was   young   enough   to   have   more   kids   as   well,   and   he   tries   not   to   wrinkle   at   the   idea.  

Siblings?   He   would   love   more   of   those,   but   the   thought   of   his   mother   with   a   man   is   something   no   man   wants   to   think   of.   "As   long   as   he   makes   you   happy,   I   am   happy   for   you,   mother.   Are   you   sure   you   are   ready   to   wed   again?   There   is   no   need   for   it."   Tully   eyes   look   at   her   own,   not   a   king   to   his   queen   mother   but   a   son   to   a   mother.   He   knows   the   loss   of   his   father   hit   her   hard.   It   did   to   all   of   them.   "He   seems   to   be   kind."

[myrc3lla]

@dcviline asked: NSFW PROMPTS . 12 M/F (Aegon II)

It's   sweet   torture,   must   be,   he   never   takes   her   perhaps   not   to   fall   for   the   games   of   their   elders   but   his   touch   tells   her   he   needs   this   as   much   as   she   does.   Or   perhaps   he   derives   pleasure   for   making   the   mostly   observant   and   smart   lady   come   undone   under   his   touch.   The   first   time,   she   had   been   so   ashamed   how   he   has   simple   rutted   and   grind   on   her,   fully   clothed   before   she   had   to   change   dresses   when   she   saw   her   own   wetness.   Now,   her   back   presses   against   his   chest,   her   dress   undone   and   only   smallclothes   and   rags   cover   her.

  "Aegon."   His   name   is   a   prayers   when   fingers   slip   inside   her   and   begin   to   tease   her,   her   body   following   the   motion   by   rolling   her   hips   and �� feeling   his   cock   grow   hard   with   each   push   of   her   frame   but   his   arm   doesnt   let   her   go,   not   even   when   her   body   shakes.   "I   know   what   you   want   of   me."   She   breathes   through   moans.   He   wants   her   to   plea,   to   become   a   wanton   woman   and   beg   him   to   take   her,   maiden's   virtue   be   damned,   ruined   in   the   sweetest   ways   as   he   adds   another   finger   and   she   has   to   lean   and   press   a   hand   to   the   wall   for   support.

  "Ruined   for   all   others.   For   who   would   daré   touch   what   belongs   to   the   king?"   No   one   would   want   her   if   she   does   and   a   hand   sneaks   behind   his   neck   to   keep   him   close,   urging   him   on.   "Gods,   I   would.   You   feel   so   good,   how   could   I   want   another?".

[myrc3lla]

@dcviline asked: "I want you like I’ve never wanted anything in life. You’re all I think about, dream about." (Trys)

As   Trystane’s   words   hung   in   the   air   between   them,   a   soft   breeze   brushed   against   Myrcella's   skin,   but   it   did   nothing   to   cool   the   heat   rising   within   her.   His   confession   stirred   something   deep   inside   her,   something   she   had   not   fully   allowed   herself   to   feel   until   now.

She   stepped   closer   to   him,   her   gaze   unwavering   as   she   looked   into   his   eyes,   seeing   the   same   fire   that   burned   in   her   own.   “I   don’t   want   to   wait   any   longer,   Trystane,”   she   whispered,   her   voice   steady   despite   the   emotions   swirling   inside   her.   “I’ve   spent   too   many   nights   waiting   for   approval   that   may   never   come.   I   had   felt   you   inside   me   and   yet   I   am   not   allowed   to   call   you   husband.”   Her   hand   reached   up   to   trace   the   edge   of   his   jaw,   her   touch   soft   but   full   of   intent.   “I   desire   to   be   your   wife.   Now,   not   when   they   decide   it’s   convenient.”

“I   am   not   asking   for   their   permission.   Not   anymore.   I’m   telling   you   that   I   choose   you.   I   want   you,   Trystane,   as   much   as   you   want   me.”   The   moonlight   bathed   them   both   in   a   pale   glow,   as   if   the   gods   themselves   were   witnessing   their   union,   even   if   it   was   not   yet   bound   by   vows   spoken   aloud.   Her   breath   caught   as   she   leaned   in   closer,   lips   hovering   just   above   his.  

"Take   me,   my   love,   and   then   we   will   wed   to   whatever   God   we   must."   she   whispered,   her   eyes   full   of   desire   and   determination.   "I   would   have   you   in   the   Sept   itself   if   that   meant   they   will   no   longer   stop   us."   She   said   with   bracing   boldness   and   desire,   perhaps   the   one   thing   she   will   take   from   her   mother   beside   her   beauty.   Her   lips   find   his   own   as   she   draws   him   closer   to   her,   embrace   turn   hot   despite   the   night.   "They   do   not   listen   to   words   but   actions.   So   let   them   hear   us."

[myrc3lla]

@dcviline asked: “Don’t play coy. We both know you are here for a reason.” (Aegon II)

Myrcella   felt   Aegon’s   gaze   sweep   over   her,   lingering   where   the   dornish   fabric   revealed   more   than   a   mere   lady   might   allow.   But   she   did   not   flinch.   His   words   hung   in   the   air,   teasing   but   edged   with   something   sharper.   She   met   his   eyes,   a   soft   smile   curling   her   lips.

“Your   Grace,”   she   began,   her   voice   as   smooth   as   silk,   “I   am   here,   as   you   said,   for   a   reason.   But   it   is   not   to   play   coy,   nor   to   play   any   games   at   all.”   She   let   her   fingers   graze   the   arm   of   her   chair,   slow   and   deliberate,   the   fabric   of   her   sleeve   shimmering   under   the   firelight.   “I   was   under   the   impression   that   perhaps   you   would   like   some   company.   In   any   way   I   can   provide.”

She   shifted   in   her   seat,   allowing   the   dornish   dress   before   standing   up   to   catch   the   light   again,   every   movement   calculated   but   with   a   natural   grace.   Myrcella   had   come   to   entertain,   yes—but   not   to   submit.   Not   so   easily.   If   Aegon   wanted   something   from   her,   he   would   have   to   prove   his   interest,   not   just   with   his   gaze,   but   with   his   words.

"Though   I   do   not   know   many   things   that   could   entertain   a   king.   Perhaps   you   could   aid   in   that   part,   Your   Grace."

[myrc3lla]

@dcviline asked: “A princess should be able to do as she wants.” (Jhogo)

Myrcella   smiled   softly   at   Jhogo’s   words,   the   sound   light   but   carrying   an   edge   of   disbelief.   "A   princess   should   be   able   to   do   as   she   wants?"   she   echoed,   tilting   her   head   to   look   up   at   the   tall,   imposing   bloodrider.   There   was   something   almost   amusing   in   the   statement,   the   idea   that   her   title   offered   her   freedom.

"Oh   Jhogo,   if   it   was   that   simple."   she   began,   still   smiling,   but   there   was   a   hint   of   something   sharper   beneath   the   surface   now,   "being   a   princess   is   much   like   living   in   a   cage,   only   it’s   lined   with   silk   and   hung   with   the   finest   tapestries."   She   turned   her   gaze   to   the   horizon,   her   eyes   momentarily   distant   as   memories   stirred.

"If   I   were   told   to   marry   a   man   thrice   my   age,   I   would   have   to   do   it.   Bed   him,   give   him   children,   better   sons   than   girls   of   course."   she   continued,   her   tone   soft   but   firm.   "If   they   sent   me   away   to   a   distant   land,   as   they   did   when   they   sent   me   to   Dorne,   I   would   have   to   go."   Myrcella   paused,   her   golden   hair   catching   the   light,   a   picture   of   regal   grace,   but   beneath   it   all,   a   quiet   resignation   flickered.

"And   through   it   all,"   she   added   with   a   sigh,   "I   would   have   to   smile.   Always."   She   turned   back   to   Jhogo   then,   her   lips   curved   into   a   faint   but   knowing   smile.   "A   princess   may   have   many   things,   Jhogo,   but   freedom   is   not   one   of   them.   You   offer   me   freedom   in   these   moments.   In   the   shed   of   night.   And   even   then,   you   provide   danger."   If   she   was   discovered,   she   might   be   said   to   be   tainted,   even   with   Daenerys   as   Queen,   the   realm   still   had   rules.

[myrc3lla]

@dcviline asked: "You're making it very hard to behave." (harry)

The   music   from   the   feast   still   echoed   behind   them,   but   the   moment   Myrcella   managed   to   pull   Harry   away   from   the   crowd,   the   tension   between   them   sharpened.   His   hands,   earlier   bold   and   lingering   far   too   low   on   her   waist,   had   stirred   more   than   just   murmurs   from   the   lords   and   ladies   at   the   table.

She   stopped   near   a   cluster   of   trees,   the   din   of   laughter   and   clinking   goblets   fading.   Turning   to   face   him,   her   golden   curls   caught   the   faint   light   of   the   torches   as   they   swayed   in   the   evening   breeze.   Myrcella’s   gaze   narrowed.   She   placed   a   hand   on   her   hip,   the   softness   of   her   expression   hardening   just   enough   to   make   her   fakw   displeasure   known.   "Behave?"   Her   voice   was   quiet   but   firm.   "It   seems   you’ve   forgotten   what   that   word   means."

She   felt   her   cheeks   flush,   but   not   with   the   innocent   embarrassment   she   had   once   known.   No,   this   was   a   different   fire.   "What   we   are,"   she   said,   each   word   deliberate,   "is   yet   to   be   determined.   But   you   cannot   behave   like   that   in   front   of   lords,   they   might   think   me   a   wanton   woman."   Little   they   know   she   indeed   has   allowed   him   deep   inside   and   reach   every   part   of   her.   "No   one   can   know   you   have   tasted   the   sun,   captain."

[myrc3lla]

@dcviline asked: "What if I told you I’ve been thinking about you all day?" (trystane)

The   Water   Gardens   shimmered   under   the   warm   Dornish   sun,   the   soft   scent   of   saltwater   carried   on   the   breeze   as   it   rustled   through   the   palm   trees.   Myrcella   stood   by   the   fountain,   its   gentle   splashes   mingling   with   the   sound   of   distant   laughter   from   children   playing   nearby.   Her   golden   curls   cascaded   down   her   back,   catching   the   light,   but   her   attention   was   fixed   entirely   on   the   figure   approaching   her.

Trystane   moved   with   the   grace   of   someone   born   to   the   sun   and   sand,   his   dark   eyes   gleaming   with   a   hint   of   mischief.   When   he   stopped   before   her,   close   enough   that   she   could   catch   the   faint   scent   of   oranges   on   his   skin,   he   smiled.

Myrcella's   heart   fluttered,   a   soft   blush   creeping   up   her   cheeks.   She   quickly   lowered   her   gaze,   letting   her   hair   fall   forward   to   hide   the   heat   rising   in   her   face,   but   a   smile   played   at   her   lips.   Trystane's   words   sent   a   pleasant   warmth   through   her,   different   from   the   Dornish   sun   —   something   far   more   thrilling.

Gathering   her   courage,   she   took   a   step   closer,   their   privacy   emboldening   her.   The   Gardens   felt   like   a   world   away   from   the   chaos   of   courts   and   crowns,   and   here,   with   only   the   rustling   leaves   and   distant   murmurs   to   accompany   them,   she   felt   brave.   "And   what   do   you   dream   of?"   she   asked,   her   voice   soft   but   curious,   her   hazel   eyes   lifting   to   meet   his.