Better nights
Starter with @jason-lannister2005
The music swelled, filling the golden hall with a triumphant melody, but Leila barely heard it over the dull roar of conversation. Laughter and the clinking of goblets rang in her ears as lords and ladies twirled across the polished floor, their silks flashing like jewels in the candlelight. The scent of spiced wine and roasted meat was thick in the air, but it all made her stomach twist in nerves rather than hunger.
She pressed herself against the cool stone of a gilded column, fingers twisting the lace of her sleeves. Her gown was beautiful—pale gold, embroidered with lace white flowers—but it felt stifling under the weight of so many eyes. She wasn’t meant for this. Not like her sisters.
Leila searched the hall for her mother first, hoping to find her seated somewhere. But she was nowhere in sight. Her sisters, too, were absent—perhaps swept into the dance, perhaps deep in conversation with some charming lord or their betrotheds. A flicker of unease crawled up her spine. She had never liked being alone at these events.
She retreated further, slipping behind a carved wooden screen that separated the main hall from a smaller alcove lined with golden lion banners. The music was muffled here, the chatter more distant. Just enough to breathe. Just enough to think. She closed her eyes for a moment, pressing her hands together, willing herself to be invisible.
But before she could force herself to disappear, she noticed she was not alone; her father was here too. Whether he'd been here first or had followed her, she did not know but there was no point in worrying about her blessings.
“Hello papa, would you like to hide with me for a while?” she asked hopefully.
Jason had put on the banquet. This was an occurrence at Casterly Rock if you must. Lords and Ladies from the Westerlands would come to the splendor multiple times. Especially if Lords and Ladies from across the realm were to grace its halls. The place was lively throughout the day and into the night. This offered him the perfect opportunity to slip into a private part of the Hall.
He had made sure his daughters were taken care of, Johanna had already went off for the night, Jason stayed in the background, calculating the moves of everyone within it. His instincts sharp as ever as his eyes darted all over the room. Looking for anomalies or signs of worry from his daughters, or anyone for that matter he would have to quell. He didn’t trust Lords intentions or many people at all.
His instinct for this, allowed him to see a sign of his daughter, Leila, having issues. Once he saw her slip into the secret alcove, he went there after her. Partially because he wanted to check on her but also to get away from it himself. His other daughters were well off, Leila was more like him at her age, reserved and preferred quiet spaces.
“More than anything in the world My Little Cub.” He spoke back with a smile, a genuine one. A newer smile he has shown when around his family. One not masked by anything. He was getting used to it, he had hoped they’d done the same. “I remember doing the same thing at your age Honey.”
Leila’s lips twitched into the beginnings of a smile at his words, her shoulders relaxing just slightly. My little cub. He hadn’t called her that in some time, not in public anyway.
She looked up at him, her father—Lord Jason Lannister, The Lion of the Rock. And yet here he stood, away from the pomp and politics, smiling at her like she was still the girl who used to crawl into his study during council meetings just to nap beside the hearth.
“I didn’t think anyone noticed,” she said softly, brushing a loose strand behind her ear. “I tried to make it through one dance. I really did.” She shifted, her slippers barely making a sound against the stone floor. “But the moment the music started, it felt like everyone was watching me. Waiting for me to stumble. I didn’t want to embarrass you.”
She leaned her shoulder against the tapestry-draped wall, gazing at the flickering candlelight that danced across her father’s features. “It’s easier back here. Quieter. I can breathe.”
After a moment, she added, “You said you did the same? Hid from your own banquets?” There was a hint of disbelief in her voice, but also curiosity. Leila rarely imagined her father young—flawed, unsure. The image was foreign, but comforting somehow.
