Elia liked Dragonstone.

She liked being away from the politics of the court, from the critical eye of King Aerys II. Ever since she's left Dorne for her marriage, Dragonstone was the only place she felt like she could breathe in.

She liked the comfort of their home. She liked hearing the sounds of Rhaegar's harp fill the halls, the melody gracing her ears. She liked watching him play with Rhaenys, who seemed enamored with her father. Even if the legacy of the dragon and the responsibilities of the realm loomed over her husband like a shadow, here she could pretend they were a normal family. A family that didn't carry the burdens of their ancestors and descendants on their shoulders. Rhaegar sat cross legged in front of her, eyes closed as he hummed a sweet tune. She smiled, her delicate hands in his hair.

He liked it when she braided his hair. "Your hair's gotten longer, my prince," She teased, her hands working through his silver locks. "I'm almost jealous."

Rhaenys played with Balerion near them, her giggles filling the chambers.

She couldn't imagine being anywhere else.