• GRACE / VIOLENCE !

Silas chuckled as the men slipped back into their positions. He pulled his sister’s small frame close to his side and looked her over. She saw paler than she had when he’d first arrived. He didn’t blame her, however. The Queen of the Realm. All its troubles must have landed straight on her head. Add to that the care Visenya took, and any woman would be overwhelmed, he was sure. It was part of the reason why he had stuck out his neck to try and equalize the pressure. Get some of the filth cleaned up before she’d hear of it or have need to clean it up herself.

“They have been quiet, as always. We’ve had pirates on our shores ever since the start of last year, but that’s nothing my men couldn’t handle. Beyond that, everything has been peaceful. I’ve ordered new shafts be dug in the Rock. I’ve had people complain about shortness of breath.” He did notice the tone of her question and he shot her a rather short smile, meant to fortify her faith. “I’ve left a capable Castelan and a garrison in the Rock and all the Lords know what their duties are. If the Wolf is keen on biting, the West will bite back. Aemon should know that giving his sister to that man is lunacy, however.”

          how cruel an illusion it was, to stand beside her brother and imagine so completely that she could be safe. the warrior, the father, the smith --- she saw them all reflected in his face. even if jeyne’s death had tarnished her image of him as the ultimate, infallible protector, he was still the man she trusted the most. perhaps the only one. even if it was all a lie, she couldn’t help but enjoy the momentary peace it brought her, to walk by his side. 

“OH, it’s nothing. the bare minimum really. if there is anything i can do to help you through these dark times you must tell me. the crown has the full support of house blackwood, we want to offer our support in any way we can.” nesta’s husband may not appreciate her professing his house’s loyalties so boldly, but nesta didn’t much care. she was the mother to the heir of house blackwood so she had as much say in the matter as he did, as far as she was concerned. “as am i. i thank the gods i had brynden taken back to his rooms before all that happened, no child should be forced to bear witness to such things. we must protect the children’s innocence as long as we can, don’t you agree?”

she was startled by the queen . and that wasn’t something that happened often or at all , the youngest hightower had very little interaction with the queen in her entire time in the keep .     ‘    perhaps it’s for the best , your grace .     ’     she spoke softly , a small show of curtsying offered out of respect before as she turned to watch the dark haired girl stew angrily it seemed . though she hadn’t made an effort to head out of the gates , not since her little adventure with the dornish man , today was not the day , it was simply a round she made as she walked , needing to stretch her legs almost , though the gardens here became tedious after a while .

“It’s not I that you have slighted, but your queen. And she could have your heads on sticks before noon.” Silas smirked to his sister, his head low, hiding his eyes beneath the shadows of his eyebrows. “It would be my pleasure.”

Then he presented her with his arm and turned outwards, towards the city. The buildings were covered in a haze of filth and heat. The air over the flat roofs of the buildings lower in the city shimmered. High above them, the sun baked the air. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to see you sooner. I had quite a mess to clean. What a debacle.”

“I thought you’d be making a run for the stables.” He spoke, the slightest shadow of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Seems old habits die hard. Sers. You’ll let your queen pass, I am sure.” His eyes flashed a little as he eyed up the two guards. A tense, grim situation. But it seemed Silas was quite confident in his ability to persuade, if not intimidate the two. “Unless, ofcourse, you’d enjoy a scolding in the Grand Hall, during court. Infront of all to see.”

        THERE WAS NO POINT IN trying to sleep. with so many thoughts and worries filling his mind aemon knew sleep would evade him. he had remained in his study late, mulling over papers in hopes they would reveal a clear path forward. wishful thinking. conflict was upon the horizon there was no denying that now. the northernmen had made that clear. eventually, he had returned to his chambers but didn’t even bother getting into bed. he stood at the window, staring out at the city, and lost in his thoughts.

          it was only his wife’s voice that brought him back to the present. he held her hand like it was a lifeline, perhaps it was. his wife was one of the few consistent presences in his life and he knew he could rely on her for anything. she was the only person he trusted with the full extent of his troubles.          “ worrying is the better word. ”          his shoulders were heavy; he was carrying the entire kingdom but it seemed like everyone was trying to tear it down. a heavy sigh fell from his lips as he turned away from the window to face his wife.          “ i feel like everything is about to fall apart and i cannot stop it. the north refuses to let go of their pride and see how their actions threaten the entire realm. i thought a marriage union would at least ease the tension but it’s only made it worse. and now there is unrest amongst the common folk… ”

          her guilt settled on her like the cover of darkness, a gnawing at her conscience that would not be relieved come dawn. it was one thing to have a hand in her own suffering, but something else entirely to have a hand in his --- even if she did resent him as much as she loved him, aemon was a good king and a better man, and she had stoked the fires that warmed his enemies. and now, she had nothing for him, no words of comfort that wouldn’t ring empty. the silence that followed his words was deafening.

          Alyssandra needed out, out of the castle walls and the endearing obsession of everyone to see of her wellbeing, which in reality was just them trying to stay informed anc lose to her as an advantage. She knew everything far too well. Her feet had taken her to the stables almost by instinct, but her brain began to move faster than her, if she was to go horse riding perhaps she could have moments of quiet, very little of the ladies or even lord would follow her or find her to be more precise. 

          She walked into the stables to find the scene, she looked at Wylla up and down and there was a certain mockery in her violet hues, but she did what was right. “We ought to have your heads, are we not? How dare the lot of you deny anything to your queen? Have you gone mad or are you simply that stupid?” She barked at them, “if your queen wants to ride, she shall ride.”

Bowing to Queen Wylla she turned back to the city, “The father is my guide and he so often helps me find judgement.” The queen was someone she did enjoy, it was hard to miss that the Targaryen princesses weren’t fond of the woman but Ellaria trusted the Queen. “Force Rickard Stark to punish the man in front of the King and council. You both have the right to demand that, it would put an ease to the King that he will be punished at an extent that will be accepted by him and one to the Stark Lord will be able to punish his own men. The old gods are harsh in punishment I’ve heard.” She didn’t know much about them other than their dealings with the law, she would take advice from anything that she deemed acceptable. “The Targaryen princess seems like such a good match to bring the peace.” Her eyes darted toward the dragon pit. “One without dragons would have been a better choice, not to insult King Aemon’s choices.”

“He calls for my bannerman’s head he’ll be offered mine. I won’t let northern blood be split here unless it’s mine.” He never would, letting one of his men die when he was able to save them wasn’t something he would let himself do. “You know how much bloodshed we want, as little as possible. Neither of us want to see great death and the north will fight no where but the north.” That wasn’t the case for House Targaryen, they’d go all over the world for their bloodshed. 

“Blindly? You have no idea what we’re running towards, you used to know what we wanted and how we wanted it to happen. Why would I run blindly into a war? Why would I be marrying someone no one wanted if I was running into things without thinking?” Lord Umber was the one who wasn’t thinking, he was opening his mouth drunkenly and yelling about things he had no right to yell about. “It’s not about pride. We don’t belong in the seven kingdoms, your darling husband only wants us because we bring him power, we bring him lands. We don’t worship your gods, he don’t hold the same beliefs. Our gods are mocked and destroyed here, our ways are mocked.” It was the truth, none of the others wanted their people here, they didn’t want anything to do with them. “The pride is of Aemon. Part of his kingdom or not we’ll protect the realm from things beyond the wall, that’s all we’re good for to the crown. It’s his pride and desire to own everything that will bring bloodshed. Not ours.”

          each word that left his lips chipped at her faith in him, carving away at the amicability of their agreements. now, it seemed inevitable, that their once-shared interests would diverge like this, but it still infuriated her. she had been sympathetic to his northern ambitions, sworn her loyalty to a land she had rarely seen, because she had believed in the honor of the starks. it seemed to be a lie, something they told themselves to justify themselves. there was no honor in starting a war without cause. a scoff escaped her, sharp and cruel. on her heel, she turned from him, arms crossing over her chest as she refused to meet his gaze. “you're a fool.” insults would not win her this argument, but she was fighting a battle with herself now, wrestling to keep her rage from spilling over. perhaps his dream had been noble once, but impatience and single-mindedness had spoiled it, and wylla feared he might now have ventured beyond reason.

         a breath, and she turned back to him, keeping her distance, her jaw clenched. “aemon is twice the king you will ever be. he may bear the name of conquerors and tyrants, but he cares for the realm more than you do. he would have trusted you with his sister to keep the peace, and you would have repaid him with treason.” the calm in her voice held more menace than mellowness, a note of horror at knowing the part she played --- was still playing --- in rickard's plans. “the realm hasn't faced threats from beyond the wall since the time of daenerys and aegon. the only threat to the realm and the peace is you.” 

Wylla one of the certain people who was going to see him, he knew she would find him almost as quickly as she could. Turning his head at the sound of her voice he narrowed his eyes at her, “My bannerman has been sent to his room under strict guard an he will stay under the guard of House Stark until he is allowed to leave.” There was no way he’d be stupid enough to leave the man unguarded. The Targaryen’s were the last people he trusted to begin with, now it was even more pressed. There was nothing that he could do at the moment that would calm her nerves which was something he understood. She had more reason to be on edge than anyone else. 

“Lord Umber spoke nothing of your daughter, let her rule her six kingdoms none of us want to bring harm to a child and if any one does the will find themselves dealt with harshly.” This was more a slight on princess Alyssandra, and himself to an extent. “ They don’t want me to marry her and they don’t understand why I need to marry her.” None of them did and he couldn’t tell them all. There were some things only his council needed to know, could know for safety. 

          “harwin umber should count himself lucky the king is not yet calling for his head,” she told him coldly. his assurances rang hollow in his ears, his mention of visenya doing nothing to alleviate her anger. it was quite telling that he did not promise her daughter’s safety, only justice, should harm come her way. men were slow to protect and quick to avenge, and rickard would clearly rather carry a sword than a shield. but it was shortsighted; a northern independence would inevitably stir the greyjoys to rebellion, the martells would follow, and the seven kingdoms would crumble. more importantly, even with their independence, a high lord’s ambitions could never be trusted, and someone would inevitably come for the throne.

          she had successfully managed to convince the stableboy to let her saddle her own horse, a pale grey courser with a temperament he worried she could not handle the beast. until then, her plan had gone quite well. it wasn’t until she reached he gates that her path was blocked --- a pair of guards, large and appearing even larger for all their armor. dressed modestly, no dragons or flames adorning her, she looked more like a particularly favored handmaiden than a queen. she could not fault them for mistaking her. still, their refusal bruised her pride. a lady oughtn’t be out ridin’ alone. the crunch of gravel beneath boots caught her attention as someone else approached the gate.

Standing in at the window overlooking the city Ellaria’s eyes looked over the horizon. She’d been able to find nothing so far, her men had been able to find nothing. If it was up to her she’d have Lord Umber’s head on a pike on the wall. Everyone would see it. But her king was a better peace keeper than she was. “I pray you have business.” She spoke not bothering to look over her shoulder at the sound of footsteps.

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“YOUR majesty,” nesta began, making a great show of the sympathy in her voice. “might i take this opportunity to offer my sympathies for what happened at your daughter’s nameday celebrations.” as a mother, nesta could at least sympathisz with her over that. if somehow had ruined her child’s celebrations in the way the princess’s had been, nesta would be livid. “all the effort you must have put in to make the day such a success entirely forgotten because of some inconsiderate drunkard. such a pity.”

          sleep rarely came easy to wylla --- a mind constantly agitated kept her awake for hours on most nights --- and when it did come, it was hardly peaceful. especially on nights such as this, hazy dreams of smoke and snow tormented her, shadows whispering just quietly enough to be unintelligible. even asleep, she scratched at the surface of consciousness, and rest only found her in brief moments.