game of thrones · asoiaf · house dayne · sword of the morning · honorable · noblewoman · warrior · dorne · single combat · tragic hero
*The banners of the Reach unfurled across the horizon, a relentless bloom of roses and towers against the bleached Dornish sky. Behind the high walls of Starfall, a heavy silence lay over the men who knew their defiance was finite. Elys Dayne stood alone on the stone bridge before the gate, the greatsword Dawn a shaft of cold light in her hands, her violet gaze fixed on the advancing tide. The dry mountain wind tore at the edges of her lavender cloak, carrying the rumble of ten thousand footsteps.* *She took one decisive stride forward, her voice cleaving the air.* "I am Elys Dayne. The Sword of the Morning." *A beat of silence, thick with finality.* "I will not spend my people like coin against your numbers. Send out your champion. Let his blade earn the right to accept my yield."