the shadow

“No, I didn’t forget. I just hadn’t ever thought about it. I read so poorly myself that I assume everyone else can do better.” Ashara admitted weakly. She felt foolish and embarrassed that something so obvious had gone completely unnoticed by her. She began to anxiously chew on the inside of her cheek. It was a habit that she’d been trying to break to no avail. Her heart quickly sank again. He had only brought the letters so that no one would see them. “If you are that concerned about someone finding them, and don’t care to know what they say, then you can burn them.” She offered quietly. Ashara had written them without expectation that he would return any of them, but a foolish part of her had hoped he would listen to what she wanted to say. Then, when she believe he would never respond, writing the letters had simply become the best way to escape from everything that was happening. Her hand moved to rest on her dagger beneath the layer of her skirt. She noticeably stilled. A shadow fell over her face, and it became impossible to look him in the eye. “If you do not wish to speak with me, then you do not have to. I will walk away right now if you’d prefer it, but no matter what happens, I will not marry that man.” Her voice shook. “Not ever.”

Burn them. He couldn’t begin to express how many time’s he’d pulled them from their hiding spot in his rooms, sat beside the fire and considered tossing them into the flame. Yet each time he’d gotten close, something had made him pull back last second and return them to where they’d been. He was ready to grunt in acknowledgement ( a dismissal at her suggestion ), but when she stilled ( her hand moving to her skirts and a clear darkness falling over her face ), he found himself doing the same. It was the shaking in her voice that propelled him forward, any prior anger or heart break he’d felt immediately forgotten. Moving into her personal space until they were but a few breaths apart, his head bent down. “Did he hurt you?” The words were a growled demand ( though his flare of anger was directed toward the man whose name he didn’t know ). 

Without a second thought, Kymaera snapped back. “Would it? It was not too hard for you to leave us.” She laughed. Kymaera didn’t hold any ill will against Azriel for leaving. She’d told him to go. Azriel would always be one of the most important people in her life, but they didn’t have to spend their entire lives next to each other. Sometimes, she thought she was the only one who recognized that. “That is still stupid. Do you think that I would not come to visit you if we did not live together?” Her head tilted to one side in question. “You can survive without us, Azriel. This has been proven now. You deserve to live whatever life would make you happiest. There are more things for you than fighting every day and trying to protect us.” Her eyes held a knowing look. He wanted more than that too, even if he didn’t know it. “Kymaera has never needed this protection anyway.” She shrugged. “It is green?” A strange detail. No where they’d ever lived had been very green. “You still respect these nobles?”

He stiffened at her words. Though he had been miserable at times ( separated from his girls ), the space had been good for him ( even if he wouldn’t admit it aloud ). For once, he’d been forced to truly rely on himself. “I didn’t know.” He admitted honestly. “I know neither of you took kindly to my decision, but I needed time to be selfish and alone.” Azriel hadn’t even been certain if they would speak to him again ( and he had prepared himself to beg, should it have come to that ). “You’re right. There is... more out there. But I found myself looking for you both when I wanted to share a feeling or thought.” And every time, he found a piece of himself empty when they weren’t there. “I needed the time, but I won’t settle without you both.... and even if you never needed my protection, that doesn’t mean I won’t provide it.” 

Head dipping into a nod, he released a soft huff of air. “Everywhere is green, colorful. Lots of fields. Flowers. Niyah would have liked it.” Casting her a glance, he hesitated. “I do.”

     for @azrxcls·;  sunspear.

       SHE smelled him before he announced himself, his footfalls always measured and quiet but her senses were so attuned to her surrounds, and azriel’s scent had long since faded away from her day to day life.   she had paused at the crossroads, wondering if she should journey home and put se adere back in her rooms before meeting with one of charlyse’s contacts… but she had decided against it.   in many regards for niyah, the best defence was a good offence.    “the kingdom of flowers arrived long before many others did, or so i hear,” niyah commented, though there was hurt there, her heart was still warmed to see him after so long apart,  “your king and queen must be eager, dear azriel.”

Azriel’s approach was silent —  not because he had not missed the woman ( the claws around his heart seemed to ease at the sight of her ), but because he was uncertain of what to say to her. They had left one another on almost bitter terms ( something entirely unfamiliar to him ), so when she spoke, he found his shoulders sagging. “She’s pregnant, and determined to be apart of the Summit.” He provided, falling into step beside her. Falling silent for several seconds, he eventually cleared his throat. “I missed you.”

He was right. It was better to have an extra set of eyes. Wylla did appreciate it. Azriel was somewhat of a kindred spirit- unexpectedly so. Maybe it went hand in hand with knowing how to disappear. “Well, at least you can recognize that I’m fucking frightening.” She said with a straight face. “I hate to admit you’re right, but I’m more used to snow than standing the middle of Seven Hells.” She said and began to walk over to the pool. “You went with the Tyrell’s didn’t you? The Reach this hot?”

“Most women are. Men are just to fucking stupid to realize it.” Azriel, thankfully, had grown alongside two incredibly strong women, and they would never allow him to have believe otherwise. Following after her, his shoulder rose into a shrug. “Warm, similar to Kings Landing I suppose, but not like this. This... reminds me of another place.” Meereen had always been brutally hot —   though perhaps that could have been attributed to the amount of physical labor he had done. 

Her heart fell into her stomach for a moment when he admitted that he’d gotten her letters, but had not responded to a single one. Instead, her mouth fell open a bit. “You can’t read?” She should have thought about that. It wasn’t as if he would have had the opportunity to learn. Ashara had a tutor growing up, and she’d still only read the basics. Her septa constantly reprimanded her for her poor spelling. “I’m sorry. I- I didn’t know.” Her hands moved awkward to pull at her skirts. She could feel the metal of the throwing knives and his dagger that was strapped her leg beneath the fabric. “You brought them with you?” That did surprise her. Perhaps it was because he hadn’t written back, but Ashara had simply assumed that he’d thrown them away. “I could read you what they said if you’d like.”

Hazel orbs gave her an assessing glance—  somewhat curious if she had forgotten so much about him in their time apart. He had been a slave for years, and the idea of hiring a maester to teach him seemed to be a pointless waste of coin ( particularly when his profession didn’t require the skill ). “It’s an easily forgotten thing.” After all, the woman surrounded herself with Queens and highborn ladies —  the idea of any of them unable to read was unthinkable. “If my time within the capital taught me anything, it is that anything can be used against you.” Perhaps that was why he’d packed them, the fear that someone would discover the plethora of unopened letters and grow curious. And when they later returned and that person told him something about what the said, Azriel would be unable to confirm. “Why?” Why would he want to know what she had to say, when he was now standing before her? Could she not say it now? “If you’re still marrying, then I don’t want to know. Isn’t fair to either of us.”

   LESS colourful, that was probably true.  it was niyah who so vehemently ensured that their homes were never bare and bland… “there will be flowers enough to keep colour in your life, azriel,” she replied easily, stroking the thick coils of se kōstoba’s scaly body, her motions pausing at his claim that the place; whether it be their home, westeros, kings landing, was a curse.  her eyes cut up sharply  to his face;  “no, it is not.  perhaps you have made it such for yourself.   you chose to involve yourself in the affairs of the westerosi - first the dragon queen, now the rose one.  and you knew at least i could not follow.   i followed you across the seas and to another land, azriel, but i cannot sacrifice my security because you… had a change of heart,” she finished slowly on a sigh.

    “KYMAERA found suitable employment so she could stay here and have a purpose as well as happiness,” her eyes were dark and slightly watery,  her heart hammering in her chest as she felt the anger and blame and sadness course through her.   “you could have stayed.   you chose to be taken elsewhere - to a place where only you would have security and a purpose… if nothing else, own that.  it was not fate that broke us, it was the choice you made,” she said, calmly despite the bite to her tone as she eased both snakes into her shoulder bag where they returned to dozing as niyah stood - her eyes never leaving azriels as she spoke;   “and i will never understand why, after all these years,  kymaera and i stopped being enough for you.”

Azriel stayed silent as she spoke, he jaw ticking several times before a hand ran through his hand in frustration. “I brought us across the narrow sea and never expected us to move from one shit hole to another, but thats what we did. This was meant to be temporary until we had the money to move elsewhere. An opportunity arose to have that money at my fingertips. To get us a better life. I took it.” Giving his head a shake, he moved into his room ( bag already mostly packed ). 

Balled fists had Ashara flinching in spite of herself. She knew that Azriel would never hurt her, at least not in that way, but too much had happened now to stop herself. Ashara carefully schooled her face. There was no point in trying to lie. She was still no good at it. Besides, from the look in his eyes, the answer was obvious. It was simply better to avoid the question altogether. “I wrote to you.” She said quietly. “Why didn’t you answer any of my letters?” The Dornish girl bit inside of her cheek while she waited for an answer. At first, she’d thought that perhaps the letter weren’t reaching him, but she’d written nearly every week. There was no chance he hadn’t gotten at least one. 

Azriel stilled entirely when she flinched ( he even stopped breathing for several beats as eyes roamed her frame ). He hadn’t so much as made a sudden movement and yet he’d earned such an unexpected reaction ( it was enough to tell him that while what he could visibly see was only just scratching the surface ). His teeth ground together, but he tucked the information away for a later time. It was no longer his place to dig, particularly when she so readily avoided his question. “I got your letters.” He admitted. His gaze left her ( the move appearing to be entirely natural as eyes moved over the crowd —  and though they looked, they didn’t truly see anything ). “I can’t read more then basic words.” There was a touch of anger ( embarrassment ) in his voice, though it was directed more so at himself then at her. “They’re in my trunk.” Why he admitted that last part, he didn’t know ( particularly when he always packed light and somehow the stack of letters took up a portion of his space ).

She grinned as sharp as a knife. “Kymaera will always be the most important title, Azriel. This is not easily forgotten.” There had been no doubt that her companion was capable of moving up the ranks anywhere that he chose to commit to, but the question always remained- how committed could he remain to anywhere? Anyone? “Why? We are still the same as you last saw us. The least you could do was earn more coin.” It was an easy pattern to fall back into. Kymaera had spent the better part of her life teasing Azriel. “Go on. Tell me about all the flowers. I am sure that I have fruitful information for you as well.”

Kymaera undoubtedly meant it to come across as arrogant —  to get him to roll his eyes and rebuttal something smart back at her for being so full of herself... but he had missed her confidence. Missed their banter in the time they’d spent apart ( though if he were ever to admit to such feelings the woman would never let him live it down ). “If I took a better position at the Tyrell court it would be harder to leave. We’ve always held flexible roles. Easily moved in and out of. We may have spent time apart, but I won’t —  can’t —   settle anywhere unless you and Niyah are beside me.” Only then would a place be considered home, and while Highgarden had held some semblance of peace to it, something had always been missing. “Aside from Niyah, the whores are prettier. And the entire city smells nicer. It’s... green.” He muttered. “The Tyrell Queen is pregnant. Twins. The King is the ever watchful blade at anyones side.”

Rhaena recognised him instantly as the guard whom Ashara befriended, the one who had guarded her too before offering up his services to the Tyrells. “Are you speaking about their armour or the amount of them?” she asked politely. “We may agree on the armour being a bit much, but considering what happened last year, I do not think anyone can blame us for bringing along plenty of guards.”

“Both.” He muttered with a frown. Hazel orbs flickered across the lot of them before he released a huff. “Only someone stupid would have considered attending without guards, but you don’t need a battalion with you. For fucks sake, you’re going to set someone on edge and that will be the reason chaos breaks out again.”

“You don’t have to do that.” Wylla said, noting the briefest of head tilts before a man with a rose pin scrambled off after her child. “Not that I don’t appreciate it, but there are Stark men in every corner and Winter’s watching.” She said tilting her head towards the wolf that was laying at the edge of the water. “That’s because niceties are fucking pointless.” She scoffed. “I never took a liking to them either, and I’m fine. It’s hot as Seven Hells here, but it’s nothing that I can’t handle. Believe it or not, I’m still quite functional even when I am pregnant.”

He knew quite well he didn’t have to do anything for the woman before him, but during the brief interactions they’d shared in their time in Kings Landing, Azriel found that part of him simply wanted to. It seemed... right. “Extra eyes never hurt anyone.” He murmured. “And I never said you weren’t functional. Pregnant women tend to have a determination about them thats fucking frightening. Dorne just has a heat that can be a pain in the ass even to the natives.” 

The heat was unbearable again since they’d been North. Wylla had finally been comfortable in the cold when they had to turn around and head even further south than they’d been before, and once again, she was pregnant. It was exhausting trying to keep up with Arya. Wylla trailed a few feet behind her daughter as she went running through the Water Garden. A thud sounded in front of her, and she quickened her pace to see Arya at the foot of the shadow. “She never seems to slow any.” She said with a small smile. “I’ve thought about tying her feet to the floor, but I think she’d manage to slip right out.” Arya stuck out her tongue at Wylla and went off in the opposite direction. “It’s been a while.”

His lips quirked despite the fact that he found little amusement in the idea of tying anyone down, his hazel orbs following the wisp of a child as she hurried along in another direction. Perhaps it was due to the extensive time he’d spent alongside the pregnant Tyrell Queen, but the idea of allowing a child to roam unsupervised seemed to set him on edge. It took but a brief flicker of his gaze at the nearest Tyrell guard ( a man who visibly sigh and set down a mug of wine ) before he peeled off after the small child. Turning his attention to the Stark woman, his head dipped into a nod. “My Queen has attempted to instill your Westrosi niceties into me but I find them pointless. You look miserable. Put your feet into the pools. The water is cool and will help.”

The warmth of the Dornish air wrapped around Ashara in spite of her sheer gown. She held a glass of wine in her hand and sat at the edge of the water with her feet dipped in. Her eyes followed a group of children as they splashed and played. Suddenly it felt like someone was watching her. She feared that it was her betrothed. Quickly, she looked over her shoulder, but she realized that she did not feel as though she was in danger. Her eyes scanned through the crowd just in time to see a figure in all black heading away from her. Ash set her goblet to the side and pulled her feet out of the water as fast as she was able. Her shoes has long since been discarded. A line of wet footprints trailed as she attempted to catch up to him. “Azriel?”

A part of him had wished he’d been wrong in his assumption that she would feel his gaze upon her skin, and while he hated to admit it, hearing her voice form the shape of his name made some inner part of him ache with longing. Jaw clenching at that mere sign of weakness, Azriel forced himself to slow to a stop ( body angling slightly to acknowledge her ). “Ashara.” Up close it was all that more evident how poorly she’d faired in his absence, and despite himself, his fingers balled into fists at his sides. “Have you slept?” It wasn’t the question he’d prepared to ask, but it seemed she still had that effect on him ( to force words out he hoped to keep internal ).

Kymaera tensed as someone touched her. She turned to pull a knife on the individual before she remembered that the only person who’d ever successfully managed to sneak up on her. A smirk turned the corners of her mouth skyward. “I don’t need anything.” She retorted quickly. “But I like it. I think I’ll keep it. Ser Kymaera sounds perfect, don’t you think?” He did not look happy, but otherwise, he did not appear to be grievously wounded. “They have not given you such a title yet? You must not be doing as good a job as I am.”

Though he’d never asked for information regarding the companions left behind in the Capital, it seemed that his Queen had known of the strain it had placed on him and had readily provided bits and pieces every now and again. He’d known little about becoming a Knight until his friend had been deemed as such ( and only then did he bother ask someone what it entailed ). “You’re going to have such a long list of titles one day that I’m just going to keep calling you Kymaera to make things easy for myself.” He muttered, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I’ve been offered a title, and more coin. I wanted to wait until I saw you both again.” He may have made his decision once, but if this Summit went poorly ( if war was truly to be the outcome ), he refused to be on opposite sides of his two girls. 

Though he’d been dismissed for the evening ( with a request to return with information regarding the festivities come morning ), Azriel truly only wished to be reunited with his two girls. The bustling crowd about him hardly had his attention ( his gaze instead searching the crowd for a familiar face like so many others were ), when he all but ran into a clinking set of armor. Hazel orbs set upon the golden cloaked man, eyes taking in the Lannister Lion before he scowled. “Fucking hell. Seems a bit much for all these guards.”

With the festivities of the Watergardens well underway, the Tyrell guard found himself hovering on the outskirts of the affair. He’d been tasked with bringing back information and if he were honest, socializing was the last thing he’d wished to do given who might be attendance —  but whatever plans he’d had for sticking to the shadows were instantly shot at the feel of a small body all but ramming into him. Hazel orbs snapped sharply to scold whoever it had been, but at the familiar mop of curls, an eyebrow arched ( until he then moved to try and find the mother ). “As... active as always.” He murmured with a small nod of greeting toward the woman.