"But Doran," she cut him off, imitating his very intonation. She selected a necklace from the box a handmaid was holding for her and looked at him in her mirror as she fastened it around her neck. "No buts, young man. You are a Prince of Dorne, but I am your Princess and your mother and you will heed my words. Now. I am off to sup with Lady Yronwood and Lord Manwoody. And you," she looked at him fiercely, rather the way he imagined that Nymeria of the Rhoynar had looked at Mors Martell when she’d forced him to submit to her will, "will look after your sister and brother. They are your blood, and require your love more than you can possibly understand."
She stood up, golden silks brushing the floor as she swept towards him and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Then, without another word, she left him, her handmaids trailing after her.
Doran pressed the heels of his palms to into his eye sockets, seeing green and blue stars erupt in front of him. Then he shook himself, took a deep breath and left his mother’s bedchamber, crossing the hall to the nursery.
"Doran!" "Doran!" They squealed in not quite perfect unison and a moment later, Oberyn had attached himself to Doran’s leg and Elia was jumping up and down, giggling and clapping her hands delightedly. They were both of them half-dressed and clearly being prepared for bed. Septa Lyane looked rather as though she had seen the Seven Hells and lived to tell the tale. Doran could take no heart in that.
"Will you tell us a story, Doran?" asked Elia, following Oberyn’s lead and clutching at the leg of his trousers. "Oh, please, please, please! One about dragons? Or Nymeria! Oh! Tell us about Nymeria! Please Doran!”
"No!" protested Oberyn, "You said you’d play knights with me, Doran. You said you’d play ages ago! Will you play with me?”
"But that’s no fair!" Elia wailed. "I can’t play at knights. You know I can’t!"
"But Doran promised!” Oberyn insisted, and for a moment, Doran thought he’d lose all feeling in his leg, so tightly was Oberyn clutching it. ”Didn’t you promise, Doran? Didn’t you say we could play knights?”
Elia looked close to tears and Doran rested a hand on Oberyn’s head. ”Now, now, why don’t we play in the morning when you’re not getting ready for bed,” he tried.
"But you promised!”
Elia, however, leapt at the possibility. ”Yes. It’s almost bedtime. Perfect for stories! Not good for playing knights again.”
"I don’t want to hear any stupid stories," grumbled Oberyn. His grip on Doran’s leg had, thankfully, loosened.
"They aren’t stupid," said Elia, swatting at him and missing, "They’re very important. Mamma says so."
"Well, so’s being a knight," Oberyn shouted.
"How about this," said Doran, and they both turned to look up at him as one, tiny round faces excitedly anticipating his solution, because, somehow, they already knew that he would always have a solution. "We’ll do both. We’ll make up a story as we go. Elia—you’ll narrate it for us, and Oberyn and I will be the actors and we’ll fight if you tell us to, or perform valiant deeds or sing songs—"
"I don’t want to sing songs," interrupted Oberyn.
"I don’t want you to sing songs,” said Elia, sticking her tongue out.
"Princess," said Septa Lyane, "That is hardly appropriate behavior for—" but Elia ignored her.
"I want to play too. Can I still make up the story?"
"That’s not fair! I want to make up the story!" said Oberyn.
"How about this?" Doran tried again, "I’ll make up the story and you two play it out. And if you need someone to fight, I’ll stand in, all right, Oberyn?"
Both looked satisfied and for a moment, Doran was so pleased with himself for finding a satisfactory solution that he couldn’t think where to begin. Then, he chuckled to himself.
"It begins," he said, "with a very beautiful Princess named Daenerys…"
Say what you want about avatar, but at least it has multiple examples of the avatar being women and/or PoC, unlike a certain other show with a reincarnating character who somehow is always a white guy.
i know i’m late to the party but what can you do
[sweats nervously] d-did somebody say…girls? [wipes forehead] wowie uh, well, I, uh…[fans self] whoa well yes I-I guess, uh..[tugs at shirt collar] I guess they’re, y’know…um[dumps a bucket of water on self] kinda pr-pretty, um..[crawls into a pool of cold water] pretty neat and um..[falls on face] really cute