'𝐌𝐀𝐄𝐋𝐀 𝐏𝐎𝐕'

Knocking on my door was the first thing I heard in the morning, minus the talking outside the room. The sun had been up for quite a while now, and I knew that I was late in getting ready for the joyous jousting mother had planned for the days to come.

At first, I ignored it, if they were willing to wake me, then I couldn't be that late, no? However, the knocking became louder, more persistent and an arrogant voice shouted on the other side.

"If you don't open up, I'll barge this door down!" It was this moment I knew that the Lannister on the other side of the door was deranged. He commanded, no, threatened me. Me, his princess, and his duty. Like my title was something to dismiss, like I was something to dismiss.

I raised from the bed quickly, and my head spun at first from the speed, but that didn't matter. It didn't matter that all I wore was a thin nightgown, it didn't matter that my hair was not styled, it did not matter that I was in better terms indecent. What mattered was showing the knight that he was ranked below me.

It wasn't often, but there were a few times someone thought themselves better, and every time they were proved wrong. It had been years since someone so openly disrespected me, but he did it practically every moment we were together.

I pulled the lock away from the door, pulling it opens as quickly as possible. There he stood, besides the very nervous handmaiden, Esmerelda.

The woman looked appalled at my being standing in front of another so obscenely. To be fair on his part, his eyes never ventured from my face, not even once.

"Is this how you show respect to the royal family?" I asked the man, who smiled mockingly. "I was simply worried for your safety."

"I'm sure."

The maid hesitantly spoke up as if she would get yelled at, which I am not that mean. "My princess, it is best we get you ready for the day." I didn't spare Jaime Lannister another look as I retreated back into my room, Esmerelda, following behind me quickly.

The door slammed shut, and the room became achingly quiet. I knew this woman for a long time; she was a gift from my mother. She was supposed to be my friend under the disguise of a maid. Yet the crown, and its family has no friends. A lesson my father drilled into us.

Instead, the woman who was supposed to be my friend simply became someone who was just There.

I didn't look at her as she silently started to undress me, instead my eyes rested on the blank paper sitting on the desk left to my bed.

I had the intention to write to my brother. I didn't write down a word before feeling a pit. What would I tell him? The day he left me I had another memory. That he wasn't the one to pull me out of my head? That his marriage was confirmed? I'm sure he would like a heads up, but he didn't deserve one. He left me here.

"Are you excited for today, princess?" Not really, I had been to my fair share of tourneys and all of them had bored me.

"Of course," I lied through my teeth. "I am curious about Prince Oberyn's abilities. They call him the Red Viper." I hadn't gotten the chance to greet the Dorne royalty, but from what I heard Prince Oberyn wasn't one for welcome parties.

"Yes, the Prince is very talented." The conversation fell, but mayhaps it was due to her tightening the corset she placed on me. I have worn hundreds of corsets, and never did they get any easier to breathe in.

When the maid started to braid my hair, another entered my chambers. The woman held a box, yet still politely bowed.

"Forgive me for introducing, your grace," The woman said while setting the box on a small table. "Your father, the king, had a gift made for you." I didn't say anything as I silently dismissed her to leave.

I waited for Esmerelda to finish my hair before looking at the gift my father had given me. It could wait, after all if it was important he would give it himself.

When the maiden was done my hair was loose, with the exception of two braids farthest from each other wrapping around the other, as it fell down my back with the rest of my wavy hair. It was usual for ladies in the south to have more complicated hair, but I quite liked having my hair calm.

My attention fell back onto the box, standing as I walked to open it. Inside the box the fabric was thick, making sure not to break what laid inside. Beneath the felts of silk cloth was a crown.

It wasn't the first time my father had done this. When I was a girl, he gave me a matching silver and gold crown that looked simple with leaves entwining. He had told me it was because I must stand proud as a Targaryen even after what happened.

Now with him throwing me into court with my hand on the market, it wasn't surprising he wanted me to stand proud with a crown again. "To remind everyone you come from a King." It was what he told me once.

This crown was different from the others, it was silver, diamonds and rubies engraved. The craftsmanship was unremarkable.

"You will look lovely in it, my lady." I couldn't tell if she was honest or was simply trying to remain in my good graces. I didn't ask her though.

She gently took it from me, before placing it delicately on my head. Her smile was bright as she led me in front of a mirror.

I always knew I was beautiful, and that wasn't even egotistical. I was blessed with the genetics of my parents. Still, I knew today I looked better than usual, and that was more uplifting than anything else as of recent.


'𝐉𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐏𝐎𝐕'

Maela Targaryen, the princess I was assigned to protect. Better known as a royal pain in my ass. Not that I'd ever say that for I'm sure it would get my head on a spike.

Nevertheless, a pain she was, the woman had decided I was unbearable company, for no logical reason. She had just decided she didn't like me, and while I wanted to say opinions don't bother me, hers had.

I was charming, handsome, and a bloody damn good swordsman. She could do a lot worse than me, and yet she decided I was the worst. It wasn't fair. How dare she think she can take anything from me simply because she is a princess?

It wasn't only me however that the princess didn't like. I had (begrudgingly) taken notice to servants she'd dismiss as if they had no matter. I didn't know if I wanted her dismissive hand, or her stone glares.

Ever since I met her at that stupid party that woman maddened me. Insulted me, insulted my sister.

Still, I had the pleasure of being her sworn shield – for a time.

Suddenly I was counting the days for the prince to return, let him be the one to wake the girl who oversleeps. Let him be the one following her around like a lost puppy, let him receive those icy valerian eyes though it would be unlikely. Everyone knew how close the prince and princess were. Some even think they'll be married soon. Which was another thing that bothered me.

No one gave a second glance when it was Targaryen's marrying siblings. Perhaps it'd be best not to dive down that road, after all my sister was leaving soon. So soon.

The door reopened and the hand maiden left quickly, the princess coming out a second after her. Unlike her maid she stood still for a moment, as if collecting her thoughts.

While she strayed inside her mind, I used the opportunity to really look at her.

Her hair was down; a few pieces braided in Targaryen fashion. She wore a red dress, the black laced corset pushing her chest up on display. I hadn't looked at her breasts earlier when she was stupid enough to come out indecent. Despite whatever the princess may think of me, I was a man of honor. Though it seemed she didn't mind who looked at her.

The dress brought out her figure, her hips, chest, and the deep red brought a glow about her.

I could admit she was a pretty face; it was so unfortunate she had such an uptight, no, bratty personality. She looked beautiful, the crown on her head a beacon for her title – yet she looked completely empty.

Whatever she thought to say, she must've dropped it. Instead, she simply walked past me, and like a dog I followed.

The jousting tournament today was in the Dornish royal, and house Caradine honor. The lovely queen had put herself through so much stress for it, and from what I heard the king only added to it. The king and his family sat on the highest pavilion – with him at the very top.

The princess Elia Martell, and the woman who I assumed to be Grayce Caradine sat with them. Right besides Princess Maela.

No doubt their brothers would be taking part in the jousting, something I would be doing if I wasn't watching the brat princess.

Maela sat on Grayce left, silently not even looking at their respectful bows, and simply said; "No need for all that. After all, you're my guests." So, she can be nice, in a way.

I stood off lightly to the side away from the three women. My eyes on the match, but my focus on something else entirely. Today was my father's last day here, and by extension my sisters. I wanted to watch the sport with my family; I wanted them to stay.

Yet we all don't always get what we want. Except for the Lannisters, my father's voice drifted off somewhere in my head.

When they go back, will they miss me? Did my father hate me for giving up the rock? Would Tyrion be okay? A million questions and no answer.

"Tobias Hightower, of Old Town versus Oberyn Martell, of Dorne."

The call out of the first match already had so many interested. Oberyn Martell was known as the Red Viper; the reason why is one I didn't know. He was a wild man, who from what I hear would either kill you or fuck you.

His opponent, Tobias Hightower wasn't as known. In fact, all that was said was that he was the heir to Old Town. Not much of a moniker to be known.

The men readied their horses, and they didn't even need to go another round. The horses charged at each other, and I didn't even need to look to know that Oberyn won.

The Hightower fell off his horse, even in all his armor that wouldn't save him from the hard fall. The horse continued to ride without him, and most waited with bated breath to see if he would move.

Oberyn dismounted his horse, and didn't even wait around to see if the man was alive. Tobias only slightly moved and needed to be carried out and to a maester.

"Next! Ser Cyrus Drakos versus Ser Keegan Storm."

A woman, a servant girl, walked up to the three girls. I didn't hesitate to step closer, hand resting on my sword. Lady Maela stood letting the girl whisper in her ear. "If you will, please excuse me." The Targaryen princess said to the two other girls and gave a fleeting look to her father.

When he nodded to her, she walked off the pavilion and I followed not long after her. "Where are we going?" I couldn't help but ask, even if I wasn't in the position to do so.

She didn't respond, for once she actually ignored me. Normally she would at the very least have a distasteful look at me so bluntly disrespecting her higher position.

Pissing her off was actually starting to become the highlight of my day. Because while she was annoying, at the very least she wasn't boring. "Has the princess lost her hearing?"

Just as the flea bottom started to enter my vision she stopped. As if collecting that last bit of patience she had for me. "Look," since the morning she finally looked at me, talked to me. "I am your princess."

"You are my princess."

"Remember that the next time you open your mouth to me." I probably should, after all what good would come from pissing off the King's daughter? "Well, princess, where are we going?"

Look at me using manners, father would be proud.

"On a walk."

'𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐃 𝐏𝐎𝐕'

Feet echoed against the stone floors of the Red Keep, a message for the princess of the seven kingdoms making its way to her father. As the servant knocked on the door, the King answered, looking oddly pleased with himself.

The Lannister didn't ask any questions anymore. He found it odd how stoic the woman was. He wanted to know what that servant told her. Why was she going on this walk, was it just to clear her head? Did it have a final destination? A purpose?

"A raven has come in, your grace."

The Targaryen girl simply did not know how to feel. The servant hadn't said anything terrible, actually it was supposed to be good news. The servant had told her a raven was looking for the woman. Yet, she knew who it was from, and as happy as she was hearing from him – her brother abandoned her. For what? Snow, and a bloody fur cloak?

"I write this message to you, missing you dearly my sister. I am still a far way from the North, yet I can no longer see the keep, our home, you. And I keep getting farther and farther away.

The people of Flea Bottom started, and Maela made no attempt to hide who she was. The last time she was here, she had a memory. A dark, cruel, and terrible memory. Yet it wasn't her brother, Rhaegar, that had pulled her from that cold place in her mind. It was the man following her now. Jaime Lannister. He proved to her that she didn't need her brother as much as she was led to believe. If she didn't need him so badly, why was it she still felt betrayed by him? If Jaime helped her that day, why was she so angry at him? She didn't know and it was driving her mad.

I know you are upset with me; I left you. I know you're a complicated person, I know I am the one that calms the storm in you, and I know that I have left you there. In that place that weighs so much on you.

"Princess, perhaps we should return now? If not, let us return to the Keep?" A sick feeling washed over Jaime. As a knight, as a swordsman, and even better – as a human, he knew that trusting your instincts was the smartest thing to do in survival.

"Why would we do that, Ser?" Maela didn't want to return, it was home to her family, her place of birth, and yet she hated that place with a passion even if she never wanted to admit it. "We shall continue."

I hope you read this letter well. I hope the knight who is protecting you, as I know you dismissed Ser Keegan, truly keeps you safe. I cannot wait for the day I see your face again, so that I may properly apologize. It wasn't right for me to leave you, I know that too much already is asked of you

Jaime's armored hand gripped onto Maela's, stopping her from walking anymore. "I'm telling we turn back." He, a knight, told her. He demanded her. Snapping her hands free, she finally really looked at him.

Jaime Lannister, yes, he was cocky, arrogant, and demanding – yet he wasn't too demanding. His questions, his demands, were just. That made her all the more vexed.

"Do you enjoy this? Telling me what to do, and going unpunished? Do you enjoy watching me struggle? Watching me be pissed off?"

"Yes." His answer was quick, raw, and real.

As much as I regret not taking you, I cannot regret leaving. Traveling is beautiful. The more North I get, the cooler it is, it is refreshing. Refreshing to be away, to not have as many eyes on you. As I relish in this, rejoice, I regret more and more. I wish to have taken you, to not have left you. For I worry what will have happened when I return. Will you be the same? Will you fall to your demons without me? Will you be safe? If not I, then who will keep you on the right path? Questions I keep asking myself, as I do not have answers that I seek – I ask you. Will you be alright, my sister? Did I make a mistake leaving? And if I did, is it truly wrong if I wish to remain away?

"I have beaten every challenge anyone has sent my way. It brings me joy to show you are no different." Each word he said was dipped in spite. He didn't like her, and she didn't like him. Their reasons weren't solid at all, yet it didn't matter to the two of them.

"When we get back, I wish to never see your face again." She wished to see her brothers. Jaime had taken every step her brother once took. She would die before he replaced him – no she wouldn't ever let that happen. As mad, as furious as she was at her brother, it was him by her side or no one.

"I'm glad to put in your request, let us go now and do it." She didn't walk, and he didn't leave her there. He wouldn't, he was still a knight and had a job to do. No matter how maddening she was.

When I see you again, I will tell you stories of my departure, and I promise to take you next time. After all, we both have time, right?

Rumbling echoed throughout the city, it was close. Too close.

Suddenly their fight didn't matter anymore. Nothing else did. Only survival did. The knight grabbed onto the princess hand, running. She didn't fight him, didn't push his hand away. No Maela grabbed his hand just as tightly, and ran with him. Whatever was the cause it became hotter and hotter.

Jaime kept his breathing under control, but Maela became frantic trying to catch her breath. The last time she ranfromsomething was years ago.

People all around were running, pushing into each other. They were frantic too. A shove into the princess threw her into the ground. Her hand slipping from her knights.

Jaime stopped, immediately feeling the loss of the woman he was told to protect. He searched through the crowd looking for her, havoc surrounding him.

Buildings started to crumble, fall, and the kingsguard caught the sight of flames. Wildfire flames.

"Maela!" He cried out, not using her title. "Maela!" He could leave now, escape and probably make it out of the danger zone. He could leave her.

"Jaime!" Her voice cried desperately. Jaime, she called, not Ser, not some other proper way. This wasn't his princess calling for him. It was Maela, calling for Jaime, and as he saw her laying on the ground starting to stand – he knew he wasn't running back to her for duty.

"Malea!" He grabbed onto her tightly, pulling her onto her feet while she sobbed, clinging to him. "Don't leave me."

"I don't want to die."

Her pretty purple eyes shined as they watered. Tears falling from them, her voice cracking. This wasn't a spoiled princess. And he wasn't an arrogant knight, she decided as he tightened his grasp. "I won't let you."

Yet even as they raced against the time, more buildings started to crumble, and the heat became more apparent. The exits started to become blocked, with that Maela's hope starting to crumble as well.

Jaime was the opposite, with each exit falling, with each building that fell, he became more desperate, more frenzied. "Jaime." They stopped running, instead they were looking around. No, he was looking while she hopelessly stared at him. "Jaime." She lossend her hand that held his, making him snap his head to her while he only tightened his own.

"This is it." She told the knight, not bothering to wipe the tears from her face.

"No, it's not." But he did bother, he did wipe her tears. Emerald, and Amethyst eyes held their gaze. Lannister green, and Valerian purple.

"I'm sorry." She told him, and he hated it. He hated the despair in her eyes. She couldn't be sorry, he thought, sorry meant she was giving up.

"I'm not, because we have so much more time to truly apologize to one another." She couldn't keep looking at him, she couldn't let his hope be the last thing she saw, not when she herself had already lost it.

"Look at me," more pieces started to collapse, muting his voice. Instead he forcibly made her look at him.

"We don't like each other, you don't care for me, and I could care less about you. That is all that matters." His forehead fell to hers, as he felt death near. "Nothing else but that, matters." Nothing but us.

Black faded both their visions, and while Maela heard nothing, Jaime heard his heartbeat until sleep won against him too.

Until we see each other again, you are missed, you are loved.

– Your brother, Rhaegar.