Asoiaf: I Have a Wolverine Template

Chapter 45: Broken Heart

…

Elia Martell POV

The next day

It was now the sixth day of the tourney, I snuck out in the early morning from my tent. With a mix of apprehension and determination, I was set on figuring out why Galahad had ignored me yesterday.

With a cloak and hood, I made my way to the tourney grounds where Galahad was training. I wished to talk to him alone. But when I got there, a small crowd was already forming.

They were mostly smallfolk and ladies who had been smitten by Galahad.

Since defeating a Kingsguard in melee and besting the prince in the joust, Galahad's reputation had grown immensely. He was now never alone like before.

I clenched my fists in annoyance. Before, I could have spoken to Galahad without worrying about rumors, but now, with him always surrounded, it had grown quite hard to sneak around and talk to him.

I caught a glimpse of him, his golden hair and green eyes making him look every bit the part of a knight from the songs. 

He was handsome, youthful, and strong. No doubt as he grew older, he'd only become more popular with the ladies.

I bit my lip, fighting the urge to get close to him, and pull him aside to ask why yesterday he had ridden by without even acknowledging me. But for the sake of my mother—and the rumors—I controlled myself.

After watching him train for a while, I decided to make my way to his tent instead. He'd surely go there after training. 

I'd wait for him there. And besides, since he was occupied here, I was curious to see what his personal space looked like. 

With this thought, I slipped away and made my way to his tent, my heart fluttering with a mix of anticipation and curiosity.

Keeping my steps light I made it there and I hesitated outside, glancing around to make sure no one was watching, then lifted the tent flap and slipped inside.

The first thing that struck me was the simplicity of it all. There was no extravagance here, only a functional order. 

Every item was arranged with care—his belongings placed precisely, as if each thing had its rightful place. 

Two sets of armor stood by the far side of the tent: one for melee, the other for jousting, both polished to a gleam that caught the faint morning light slipping through the canvas. 

I approached them, my fingers trailing close to the armor without touching. There were small scratches and dents in the metal from both the melee and jousting armor.

Then my gaze fell upon his bed—a small, simple thing in the corner, barely big enough for his frame. It was lined with thick fur sheets, worn but warm. 

I reached out and touched the fur, its softness surprising beneath my fingertips. There was something intimate in this simplicity, something humbling. 

For all his power and reputation, he found rest here, in a modest bed within this plain tent.

Without thinking, I sat down, letting the warmth of the furs envelop me. A part of me imagined him beside me, his green eyes watching me with that intense gaze that made me feel as if I were the only person in the world. 

And in that quiet space, my frustration with him softened, replaced by a different feeling—one I could barely name.

I sighed as I touched my beating chest and felt sleepiness in my eyes. I hadn't slept much after yesterday's event; the whole night, I'd been thinking of reasons why he'd ignored me and ridden past without even a glance. 

Because of this I was tired and I lay back, the furs soft beneath me, and my eyes grew heavy. 

The tent felt like a cocoon, the scents and warmth pulling me into a gentle haze, and before I knew it, I must have dozed off.

I was woken up from a gentle hand shake on my shoulder, stirring me from my sleep.

"Elia," a voice murmured, soft but unmistakable. My eyes opened, and there Galahad was, gazing down at me with a mixture of surprise.

"Why are you here?" he asked quietly, taking a step back as I sat up, still dazed.

My eyes fluttered open, and I saw Galahad standing over me, his brow creased in confusion. I scrambled upright, cheeks warming as I realized how strange this must look. 

"I… I didn't mean to fall asleep in your bed," I stammered, smoothing down my dress, trying to regain some sense of dignity.

His expression was unreadable, though there was a faint trace of amusement in his green eyes. 

"What are you doing here, Princess?" he asked quietly, his voice gentle but firm, as he took a step back, giving me space.

I straightened, gathering my thoughts and remembering the reason I'd come. I reached into the folds of my dress and withdrew the handkerchief I had carried all day, ever since yesterday.

In the first days of the joust, the handkerchief had been a simple cloth, once adorned with an embroidered lion devouring a sun. 

Over time, each stitch had been carefully placed, adding new color and detail until it became a small masterpiece. 

I held it out now, feeling a rush of emotion I hadn't intended to reveal.

"Why did you ignore me yesterday?" I asked, my voice edged with frustration. "And why didn't you take my favor?" My gaze was steady, giving him no room for excuses.

For a moment, he was silent. His eyes shifted from the handkerchief to me, his face softening. I caught a flicker of something unspoken in his expression, a vulnerability I hadn't expected.

"It was not my intention to ignore you, Princess," he began, his voice low and almost hesitant. "I thought…" He glanced away, as though searching for the right words. "Your brother met me yesterday," he said as he sat beside me.

At the mention of Oberyn, I felt a twinge of apprehension. What did my brother have to do with this?

"He told me something shocking, and I've been hesitating, thinking that it couldn't be true," he said, his gaze drifting down to the ground.

My curiosity surged. What could my brother have said that had made him so unsure? Could Oberyn have discovered my secret outings with Galahad?

"Did he find out about our night ride?" I asked, trying to gauge if that was the reason.

"No, not that…" he started, then paused.

"Tell me," I urged, unable to bear the suspense.

He sighed, lifting his gaze to meet mine, his green eyes filled with uncertainty. "He said… he said you had fallen for me."

The moment the words left his lips, my heart froze. A wave of shock and embarrassment washed over me, and for a brief moment, I couldn't move or speak.

"Is it true, or is he just making assumptions?" he asked, his eyes searching mine.

I coughed slightly, trying to ease the tension that had crept into my chest. Was it truly love that I was feeling? It was too much to admit, too embarrassing, so I forced a nervous laugh.

"You know how Oberyn is," I said, punching his shoulder lightly, trying to brush it off. "He's just a jokester. Don't take his words too seriously."

He laughed, visibly relaxing. "Thank the gods," he said, letting out a relieved sigh.

For a moment, I felt my eyes twitch. Was he that relieved? Did he feel nothing from our time together?

"You seem relieved. May I ask why?" I asked, forcing a smile.

He returned my smile, and for a brief second, I wished I hadn't asked.

"It would be… awkward, I suppose. I see you more as a friend," he said, the words like knives cutting through me. "And also…" he hesitated, as if weighing whether to continue. 

"That night at the feast… you remember when I spoke of my childhood friend, don't you? The one I… the one I love." His voice softened.

I remembered, though I'd pushed it from my mind—the way he had spoken of her five days ago, with such affection. 

I'd forgotten in the joy of our time together, or perhaps I'd simply wanted to forget. But now, the memory stung more than ever.

He began to say more, but I stood quickly, the pain too sharp to bear. I felt foolish, like a child caught in a dream, and I wanted nothing more than to escape.

"Excuse me," I managed, my voice barely a whisper. "I'll be heading back to my quarters." Without looking back, I left his tent, each step heavy with the weight of my disappointment.

By the time I reached my own tent, my heart felt shattered, and tears stung at the corners of my eyes. The handkerchief that was Galahad's favor in my hand was wet with my tears.

…

Note: Your Choices Have Consequences!!!

I just wanted to say that the reason why I had given y'all the choices before was because I had drafts for each of them. Since friendzone had won I had chosen this draft to write.

The other draft were for Unrequited love, Secret lovers, Marriage, and Status Quo. These drafts will never see the light of day.

In the future would y'all want to have this type of choices again? Or Nah?