120 AC

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It was a scorching hot summer afternoon in Pentos, where three women lounged in the grand gardens of the palace. The sun blazed high in the sky, casting a golden sheen over the manicured lawns and the vibrant blooms that adorned the estate. The prince of Pentos had been gracious enough to host Prince Daemon Targaryen and his young family, and Lady Laena's friends had arrived from Driftmark and King's Landing respectively to be there for her latest birth, as was their custom. The garden served as a haven of tranquillity, a place where they could escape the demands of courtly life and simply enjoy each other's company.

A chaise had been brought out for Laena, positioned under the generous shade of a large, ancient tree. Its wide branches spread out like a protective canopy, shielding her from the relentless heat. She reclined gracefully, her hand resting on the swell of her belly, a soft smile playing on her lips as she watched her friends. Elanor and Rhaenyra sat against the base of the tree, enjoying the cool respite the shade provided. The princess sat with her back against the rough bark, her silver-blonde hair glistening in the dappled sunlight where it had been secured into a knot to keep the strands away from her sweat-soaked neck. Meanwhile, Lady Stark lay completely sprawled out, her head pillowed on the princess's lap, and Rhaenyra absently played with her dark chestnut strands, a soothing rhythm to their idle chatter.

The air was filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers and the gentle hum of bees. Servants moved quietly, bringing trays of chilled refreshments and delicate pastries, ensuring the ladies wanted for nothing. Despite the serene surroundings, Rhaenyra's expression was troubled, her brow furrowed as she sipped on her mint tea.

"The tensions in King's Landing are rising again," she began, her voice carrying a note of frustration. "The queen, as usual, has proved herself to be an adversary to my sons. With the recent birth of Joffrey, she's been more insufferable than ever."

Elanor laughed incredulously, shifting slightly to look up at her friend. "Recent? Rhaenyra, it has been three years. Joff is three, and that woman is still giving you a hard time?"

Laena nodded empathetically, her eyes darkening with shared indignation. "You are a far more patient woman than me. I would have set Vhagar on her a long time ago. Didn't she make a fuss when Luke was born too? With the way that woman takes an interest in the lineage of the boys, you would think she fears it's her own father siring your children."

Rhaenyra snorted, unable to help the small smile that tugged at her lips as the Velaryon woman continued vehemently. 

"And besides, who cares what those sweet boys look like? Does the queen conveniently forget that my mother, their grandmother, shares their colouring?"

Elanor reached out to squeeze the woman's dangling leg, a mischievous glint in her eye. "We cannot all be confrontational like you, Laena."

Laena rolled her eyes fondly, her hand brushing Elanor's in a playful gesture. "And we cannot all be patient like you, El. You are far too sweet."

The three women laughed, their mirth a balm to the worries that had plagued their minds. Laena shifted slightly on the chaise, adjusting the pillow behind her back. "I often think about how different our lives would be if we didn't have to deal with the constant scheming and politics," she mused, her gaze distant. "Imagine just being able to raise our children in peace, without the shadow of those that seek to harm them looming over us."

Rhaenyra's expression softened, her hand stilling in Elanor's hair. "I dream of that too, but it seems that we shall be forever entangled in the web of power and ambition that others have woven for us."

Elanor sighed, her head nestling more comfortably in her friend's lap. "It is a heavy burden to bear, but at least we have each other. These moments with you two are what keep me sane."

"Indeed. And soon, there will be another little one to join our ranks."

"Ah yes, your new babe. Have you decided on a name yet?" Elanor sat up with a grin.

Laena chuckled, shaking her head. "Not yet. My husband and I are still debating. He has some rather...interesting suggestions."

"I can only imagine. Daemon always did have a flair for the dramatic," Rhaenyra nodded along. 

"Speaking of dramatic, how is your brother faring these days, El?" Laena asked.

"Cregan has taken rule of the North from my uncle, and keeps insisting that I visit Winterfell."

Rhaenyra, ever the pragmatist, raised an eyebrow. "Then go."

"I cannot. It is too far."

Laena's lips curled into an amused smile, a playful glint in her eyes. "Too far? My dear lady, you boarded a ship all the way to Pentos. Surely Winterfell would have been closer."

"If I go, I cannot be sure that I will not wish to remain there, and I cannot do that. Lyssandra needs me here with her, and Ser Vaemond refuses to be without his heir. Even this journey was a difficult one to convince him of." Her eyes drifted to the vast expanse of the garden where her daughter ran about with Laena's twins and Rhaenyra's firstborn son, Jacaerys.

The Velaryon woman watched the children play, her face softening with understanding. "When you said you were coming to Pentos to see me, I did not imagine you'd bring your daughter with you."

Elanor's cheeks flushed slightly, a shy smile tugging at her lips. "I enjoy the time I spend with her. At home, her attention is mostly taken up by her extensive lessons, but here it feels like we are on vacation, and I get to have her all to myself."

The princess nodded, her eyes warm with empathy. "I understand the sentiment. Luke is the most attached out of all my children, but I feel as if between their lessons, caring for the rest of the boys, and my duties, I barely get enough time with Jace. That is why I brought him along here, much to his brother's great disappointment, but lucky for us Laenor managed to convince Luke to go sailing with him."

Elanor's smile grew, her gaze following her daughter as she darted through the garden. As Lysandra was her only child, she was exceedingly attached to her, making the most of their time together by curating her wardrobe and sharing her fairytales. She dressed her daughter in elaborate gowns and fineries whenever she had the opportunity, in a manner she herself was fond of. Even now, their pale blue dresses were mirror images, except the child's was far muddier with grass stains from her time in the garden. The ribbons that held Lysandra's hickory coils back also matched Elanor's, although hers lay discarded on the floor when the princess had unbound her hair.

"And how did you manage to keep her entertained on such a long journey," Rhaenyra leaned forward curiously. "A child of nearly ten, isn't she? And with so much energy too."

"She has a fascination with ships, so she wasn't much trouble...for me at least. Though, I dare say she must have driven the captain mad with her questions and every day she latched herself onto a different crew member to shadow."

"Well, she certainly is a precocious child."

"She is my joy, my heart. At home, she is often surrounded by tutors and lessons, her days filled with responsibilities. Here, she gets to be a child, to run and play without a care in the world. It is a gift I cherish more than anything."

"I know the feeling well. Jace is growing up so fast, and I fear I will miss out on so much of his childhood. As the eldest and my heir, he has responsibilities that will burden him, so I wish for him to enjoy his youth while he can."

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Lysandra Velaryon hiked her skirts up to her knees, the lace and frills bunching as she tied the silk into a knot at her waist to free her legs. The delicate garment, while beautiful, was a nuisance during play, but she knew it pleased her mother, and so with a resigned sigh, she allowed herself to be dressed up like a little plaything every day, adorned in finery that mirrored her mother's style and brought her so much joy.

Her hand was clutched tightly in Rhaena's as she pulled the younger girl along, their faces flushed with excitement. Baela and Jace chased after them, shouting something incoherent at the top of their lungs. The ribbons that had bound Lysandra's hair had fallen off at some point, leaving her curls to halo her face in wild disarray.

"Run faster, Rhaena!" she urged, her voice breathless with exhilaration.

"I'm trying, Lys!"

Noticing her friend's exhaustion as she struggled to keep up, she slowed her pace slightly, but her respite was short-lived. Jace surged forward, his arm outstretched as if to grab her. With a giggle, Lyssandra let go of Rhaena's hand and leapt backward, narrowly avoiding his grasp. The prince's playful grin dropped, however, and his eyes widened in alarm as her foot caught on a loose stone, and with a startled yelp, she went tumbling into the pond behind her.

The water was shallow, and she scrambled to her feet almost immediately, the cold liquid barely reaching her shoulders. In the distance, she saw her mother leap to her feet in alarm, but she waved and hollered, "I'm fine!"

Her mother's friends pulled her back down with laughter, their amusement evident even from afar, and Lysandra turned her attention back to Jace, who stood at the edge of the pond, looking both apologetic and embarrassed. 

"Sorry," he murmured, leaning down to offer her his hand.

Lysandra grinned mischievously as she grasped his fingers, but instead of letting him pull her out, she channelled all her strength into dragging him down with her. However, the prince was stronger than her and his feet were planted too firmly on the ground for her to succeed. 

"That won't work on me, you should know better than to try," he teased, his concern dissipating. 

Just then, Baela gave him a hard push from behind, sending him tumbling into the pond with a surprised yelp. She let out a cheer, "That was for Lysandra!"

Jace surfaced with an indignant splutter, wiping water from his eyes. "I wasn't even the one who pushed her in! It's not my fault she's clumsy. You three are ganging up on me!"

Rhaena, the gentler of the twins, rolled her eyes at her sister's antics and helped her cousin out of the pond. "You're such a troublemaker, Baela," she chided lightly, though her eyes twinkled with amusement.

The brunette prince, now thoroughly soaked and disgruntled, reached back in for Lysandra, his glare a warning not to try anything else. 

"Lys, I swear to the gods—"

"What?" she stuck her tongue out at him. "I didn't do anything."

"Just come out. My mother will not be happy to learn that I have left you to drown."

"I shall not drown. I'm an excellent swimmer, the princess knows that!"

"Yes, well she does like to be cautious. Sometimes I think she likes you girls more than she does me," Jace said petulantly. 

"And why wouldn't she," Baela preened. "We are far more interesting!"

"You are not. And come on Lys, you're going to catch a cold if you stay in there."

Reluctantly, Lysandra took his hand, allowing him to haul her back onto the grassy bank. Her waterlogged dress seemed infinitely heavier, and her curls clung damply to her face as she struggled to peel the wet strands away. 

Baela hopped from foot to foot, her excitement unabated. "That was so much fun! Let's do it again!"

Jace groaned, running a hand through his wet hair. "I'd rather not end up in the pond again, thank you very much."

"You have to admit, it was funny seeing your face when you fell in," Lysandra chuckled, shaking out her skirts.

He shot her a sullen glare. "Next time, I'll make sure you're the only one who gets wet."

Rhaena shook her head, her lips curling into a fond smile, which was immediately replaced by a concerned frown. "You are bleeding, Lys!"

"Oh? Am I?"

Looking down at her exposed knees, the Velaryon girl saw that she had scraped them during her fall, and bits of wet grass and dirt plastered the bloody patches that decorated her skin. 

"Come now, we have to tell your mother!" Rhaena began to pull her towards the trio of women who sat watching them. 

"I feel fine," Lysandra protested. "It's just a scrape."

"The maesters say even the smallest of injuries can become really bad if you don't look after them."

"You are too careful, Rhaena," Baela scoffed. 

"And you are not careful enough!"

As the children moved back towards the adults, their animated conversation still echoing through the garden, Laena watched them with a mixture of amusement and affection. "You children certainly know how to make the most of an afternoon."

"Jace pushed Lys!" Baela exclaimed immediately.

"I did not!" the young prince objected indignantly. "Baela's the one who pushed me!"

"I did not. You just tripped."

"I am not clumsy enough to trip."

"Jacaerys," Rhaenyra warned, her tone reprimanding but her expression bemused. "I told you to play nice with the girls."

"I was, Mother! I swear it!"

Elanor ruffled the boy's wet curls and shook her head. "Lave the poor lad be, princess. It is not his fault my daughter has a penchant for trouble."

Lyssandra looked down at her, somewhat abashed. "Sorry, Mama. I didn't mean to fall in."

The older woman brushed a damp curl from her daughter's face, her touch gentle. "I did tell you to be careful, didn't I?"

"I was very careful. It's only a little scratch."

"A little scratch that is still bleeding, darling girl. Whatever am I going to do with you," she murmured against the girl's temple as she pressed a kiss there, turning to address their little group then. "Perhaps we should head inside and get them dried off."

Laena nodded, hauling herself up from her seat with Rhaenyra's help. "Yes, I should very much like that. The heat is getting to me out here and the babe is not making my life any easier."

"But can't we play some more, Mother?" Baela whined. 

"Maybe later sweetling. Your mother needs the rest and you could all do with a change of clothes," Rhaenyra placated, leading them all back inside. 

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Inside Lyssandra's chambers, her mother dismissed the servants and knelt at her feet, a wet cloth in hand. The young girl winced as the cloth met the dried blood on her knee, hissing softly at the sting.

Elanor tapped her daughter's nose lightly. "Next time, be more careful. You know I cannot bear to see you hurt."

Lyssandra nodded dutifully, her dark eyes wide and earnest. "Yes, Mama."

Her mother worked meticulously, wrapping clean linen around each scrape with practiced hands, for this had happened far too many times to count. Once she was satisfied, she pressed a kiss to each bandaged knee, her touch as soft as a whisper. "There, all better."

"Thank you, Mama."

Lyssandra stood, allowing her mother to brush out the folds of her new, dry dress. The rich fabric flowed around her like water, a stark contrast to the muddied and torn gown she had worn earlier. Just then, a knock echoed through the chamber, drawing their attention.

Mother and daughter moved to the door together, curiosity piqued. Elanor opened it to reveal Jace standing on the other side, looking sheepish and awkward. His eyes were fixed on the floor as he thrust a pale blue flower with a bent stalk toward Lyssandra.

"Mother said I should apologize," he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. "Sorry for making you fall, Lys." Before she could respond, he turned and sprinted off down the hall, his footsteps echoing in his hasty retreat.

Elanor chuckled at the boy's antics, shaking her head with a fond smile. She knelt once more, eye-level with her daughter. "Well, that was very sweet of him, wasn't it?"

"He was only doing it because the princess told him to. He doesn't really mean it."

"Yes, well you only do half the things you do because I make you, so I do not think you are one to judge."

"I am not judging, Mama, I am simply making an observation."

"Then perhaps you might keep some of your observations to yourself in the future."

Lyssandra's eyes sparkled as she tucked the flower into her mother's hair to distract her. "Here you can have this. It looks nice on you, and it matches your dress."

Elanor raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "I believe the prince meant that for you, my dear."

"It's prettier in your hair, Mama. It's almost as pretty as you."

Smoothed her daughter's hair back, and tucking a stray curl behind her ear, Lady Stark beamed. "You are too kind, my Lys."

She was about to lead them back out when a sudden, violent cough wracked her body. She turned away quickly, pulling a handkerchief from her sleeve and pressing it to her lips. The fit was brief but intense, and when it finally subsided, she glanced down to see a small trickle of blood staining the pristine white cloth.

Her heart skipped a beat, but she swiftly folded the handkerchief, hiding the evidence from her daughter. She turned back to Lyssandra with a reassuring smile, but the concern in her daughter's eyes was unmistakable.

"Oh no, are you sick again, Mama?" she asked, her voice tinged with worry. "Father did say you were too ill to make the long journey."

Elanor shook her head, her smile unwavering despite the lingering taste of copper on her tongue. "I am perfectly fine, dearest. It's just a little cough. Nothing to worry about."

"You have been looking tired as of late as well. Are you sure you are alright?"

"Yes, Lys. Everything is fine. Do you not trust your mother?"

"I...I do. Of course, I do, but if you feel worse, you have to promise you'll tell me, and then we'll go home so the maesters can make you better."

"There are maesters in Pentos, sweet girl."

"Yes, but you do not know them. At home, Father will make sure our maesters make you better!"

"Yes, alright, alright. I shall tell you if I feel any worse, which I assure you will not happen, so let us rejoin the others and put this out of our minds."

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A/N: pushing the rhaenyra x elanor x laena throuple agenda one chapter at a time lmfao. why are fluffy chapters lowkey hard to write. This girl does not have enough trauma, we need to fix that. 

As usual, don't be a ghost reader. I live for yalls comments/questions/concerns/reactions, even a keyboard smash is highly appreciated and encouraged!