in hindsight, perhaps wearing a bodice inspired by the proud stag of house baratheon had been a poor choice ─ even putting it on had been difficult, the metal antlers digging into the soft insides of their arms until jocelyn had been forced to push their chest out and pull their arms back to ease the discomfort. they had only accepted one dance, with their lord father, being sulking in the corner of the grand hall in a rather unflattering position. no one expected much from jocelyn to begin with and, for the first time in their life, they found themselves glad of the fact, even if they seized the chance to follow their older sister out of the room with the excuse of checking on myrcella before sprinting ( or rather, awkwardly hobbling to avoid being stabbed in the breast again ) out of sight. after struggling with the decorated bodice for a moment, jocelyn huffed, irritated, and stalked through the corridor in search of their sibling, nudging myrcella with their foot. ❝ what ? that's not fair. did father say you could ? ❞ for a moment, they were possessed by the urge to bite their sister but they tampered it down, one hand on their ribcage. ❝ wait. can you help me with this ? just ... there's a clip on the side to unhook it from the bodice. i'll cover for you if you want to hide away here and read like a maester, just ... get me out of this. ❞

"who says i said anything to father?" she asked, amusement threading through her voice. "for all he knows, i am still being terribly dutiful somewhere inside that hall."

closing the book around one finger to keep her place, myrcella shifted forward on the couch and set the volume aside. she rose without complaint, moving closer to inspect the complicated arrangement of straps, metal, and questionable artistic decisions.

"gods above," she murmured as her fingers searched along the side of the bodice. "was your intention to resemble a stag or to become one?"

it took a moment before she found the clasp in question. carefully, she worked the fastening loose, mindful not to catch fabric or skin in the process. once the pressure eased, myrcella stepped back slightly to assess the damage.

"there," she said as another faint smile appeared. "and unfortunately i was reading long before you offered your help. your bribery came much too late."

" and i have no business insisting that you return, " mela quips, lowering herself to the cool stone of the bench the baratheon has claimed for herself. she remains a respectful distance away, pale green skirts drooping over its edge to pool on the red stone floor. " so i suppose we are in agreement. " in the dimmed torchlight, mela can close her eyes momentarily and imagine she is in the shade of the orchards in the arbor. there is no characteristic coolness, no plush grass beneath her spine, no stone fruits scenting the air with their sweetness. " this place is a cess pit, " she admits to the silence, opening her eyes once more to look to the other lady. dark eyes fall on the pale parchment closed around a finger. " what is it you are reading? " she moves past her admittance deftly, the insult to the realm's capital a glancing blow.

her gaze drifted briefly toward the narrow window. beyond it, the city stretched endlessly beneath the evening sky.

"it is very different from the storm's end." was what she said finally. she missed it, truth be told. the crashing waves below the cliffs. rain against ancient stone. familiar winds that carried salt rather than the scents of a city far too crowded for its own good.

only then did her attention return to the question and she lifted the book slightly.

"simply a collection of folklore -- stories from across the known world," she answered, her thumb brushed absentmindedly across the worn spine. "most of them are probably nonsense which, admittedly, tends to make them more interesting."

"you should know better than to encourage me." her gaze swept briefly over the redwyne, taking in the familiar elegance that seemed to follow her no matter how far she strayed from court. "keep talking like that and i'll start believing i'm the prettiest thing in the city."

her attention drifted toward the crowded harbor before returning to vaiora. of all the faces she might have expected to find among the feast crowds, this had not been one of them.

"run along, vaoira," she said with a swing of the flask and the wave of a hand. "i'd hate to discover i've become a bad influence on a lady of the arbor."

the accusation lacked any real bite. if anything, she sounded pleased by the possibility.

erik  nodded  while  she  spoke.  seora  had  every  right  to  be  hesitant  and  she  had  every  right  to  want  to  throw  him  overboard.  it  would  be  a  welcomed  death,  he  wasn't  afraid.  he  knew  that  what  happened  that  night  was  partially  his  fault...  he  couldn't  do  anything  to  change  it,  though. what  happened  with  suho  was  unforgivable  and  there  was  nothing  he  could  do  to  bring  him  back...  even  though  he  prayed  to  the  drowned  gods  every  night  for  the  harlaw's  happiness.  "that's  fine,  seora.  if  what  will  make  you  feel  better,  you  will  be  able  to  throw  me  overboard.  no  one  will  stop  you."  he  told  her  honestly. he  turned  back  towards  the  ship,  allowing  her  to  see  that  no  matter  what,  he  trusted  her,  even  if  she  didn't  right  now.  he  was  looking  forward  to  the  warm  drink,  even  if  it  might  end  in  a  heated  argument.  erik  didn't  have  a  plan  for  this  conversation,  nor  did  he  hope  for  anything  to  occur  but  he  wanted  to  start  building  the  bridge  back,  better  than  they  were  before. for  a  moment,  he  wished  it  was  easier  but  he  has  no  idea  what's  its  like  to  lose  a  child  or  a  sibling  or  nephew.  he  knows  what  it's  like  to  lose  his  parents  but  that  is  not  comparable.  "i  would  hope  we  can  end  the  evening  just  happy  to  see  some  old  friends  but  i  know  that  may  be  asking  for  too  much."  he  said. erik  sat  down  and  crossed  his  legs,  motioning  for  the  harlaw  to  sit  as  well.  "if  you  would  prefer  to  stand  though,  i  don't  mind.  i  am  just  tired  from  trying  to  get  rodrick  to  sleep,  he  wanted  to  go  back  on  the  boat  even  though  we've  been  at  sea  for  days."  he  chuckled.  "i  would  love  for  you  to  meet  him."  erik  told  her  truthfully.

she followed him aboard in silence, dark eyes tracking the easy way he turned his back to her. trust. or stupidity. sometimes she found the two difficult to distinguish. perhaps that was another thing she resented. even now, erik still trusted her.

any trace of softness vanished from her face when he mentioned rodrick. for a heartbeat, all she she could think about was suho. his bright laughter and his future that no longer existed.

and then... rodrick. alive. three years old. alive. her close friend's son. alive.

that ugly feeling made an appearance again, twisting briefly beneath her ribs. she hated it.

"would you?" she asked him quietly as she slowly lowered herself into the seat opposite him. "that's an interesting thing to say to a woman who just threatened you with a knife."

erik  had  yet  to  see  the  ruling  lady  since  the  death  of  suho  but  that  would  not  stop  him  from  seeing  seora.  their  friendship  spanned  the  course  of  his  entire  life  and  he  wanted  nothing  more  than  the  rift  between  the  two  families  to  be  mended  again. he  sighed  as  he  approached  the  part  of  the  dock  that  connected  with  the  land  when  he  spotted  the  familiar  face.  erik  smiled  and  waved  at  the  harlaw.  "lady  seora,  you  are  looking  lovely  this  evening."  he  said  in  a  charming  tone.  "thank  you  for  answering  my  letter."  erik  continued.  "i  have  some  tea  ready  on  my  ship,  if  you  care  to  join  me."  he  told  her.  "i  wanted  to  discuss  the  kingsmoot..."  erik  paused.  "and  your  sister."  he  admitted. he  knew  that  this  might  not  be  appropriate  but  with  them  sailing  to  kings  landing  in  a  few  days,  erik  wanted  to  do  this  before  he  left.  he  smiled  at  her  and  hoped  seora  would  at  least  give  him  a  chance,  given  everything  between  the  two  of  them  and  their  families.

dark eyes settled upon the greyjoy as he approached, expression unreadable beneath strands of black hair stirred loose by the sea wind. she listened in silence as she spoke, gaze flickering toward his ship before returning to his face.

death would be too easy. yerin's voice lingered unpleasantly at the back of her mind. seora still thought her sister was wrong. grief should be taught properly instead. perhaps erik should live long enough to understand what it meant to lose something small and beloved. a son, perhaps? his was old enough for absence to hollow a house clean through.

the thought arrived coldly, casually, and left just as quietly.

still, this hurt worse than the blade she once took from a mercenary in tyrosh. because erik greyjoy was not merely another enemy standing before her. he had been woven through the better half of her life -- a familiar face from childhood visits between islands. theirs had been the sort of friendship that survived distance, adulthood, and even seora's long disappearances across the narrow sea. perhaps that was why seeing him now felt unbearable.

for a long moment, she said nothing at all. then slowly, almost lazily, seora stepped closer. steel caught briefly beneath the docklight as she slid a knife from her belt, the motion practiced enough to seem effortless. not enough to slash -- only enough for the blade's edge to settle lightly beneath his chin.

"tell me, erik," she asked, voice unsarcastically soft, "did you practice this speech beforehand? or were simply arrogant enough to assume i would still tolerate the sight of a greyjoy after what was done to my family?"

the sea crashed somewhere below them. and just as abruptly, seora smiled. the blade disappeared into its sheath with practiced ease as though the moment never happened at all.

"you're fortunate i'm curious enough to hear what you have to say," she mused lightly. "though depending on the conversation, i may still decide to throw you overboard before it ends."

running her fingers over the pendant she had made for suho as a babe (he had worn it from his first to his last day) the hurt is heavier when discussing it with someone who knew her son, who loved him. the dichotomy of the loyal woman raised beside the greyjoys with equal fealty to them as reserved for her sisters and the mother who entrusted her child to the very same men, only to lose him by her own folly, did she want greyjoy blood spilled?

In her youth, yes, blood begot blood in the most satisfying way. But now she knew deeper pain and wished to inflict it the same, rob them of then very thing they priced above her suho's life. "no. death would be too easy. I want their names erased. I want their legacy burned to ash. Let them bear witness all their efforts for naught."

a sharp exhale escaped through her nose before she laughed once, low and utterly humorless. "you speak as though the two cannot coexist." her voice remained calm, through the need for vengeance slowly sharpened itself beneath every syllable like a knife dragged across stone.

"i'll gladly help you carve them out of history piece by miserable piece if that is what you want." dark eyes lifted toward her sister then, storm-heavy and cold. "but my nephew still returned to the drowned god regardless."

there it was. the ugly grief seora had been carrying across the sea like a blade lodged between her ribs. perhaps it was the ironborn in her, perhaps merely the cruelty she had long ago stopped trying to temper, but death demanded answering. and truthfully seora had never been patient enough to believe suffering and death needed to exist separately.

what was wrong with both? what was wrong with letting them watch everything they built collapse into ruin first before ending them?

"you think i cannot make them suffer before i kill them?" she asked lowly. "sister, i can drag every last thing they love into the sea first before giving them a slow, painful, miserable death."

when ♱ the arrival to the red keep .

there was something striking about her presence. not simply the dragon-toothed silhouette, but the steadiness beneath it all. the sort of resolve people carried only after surviving far more than others realized.

at the princess' greeting, myrcella's expression softened. "thank you, princess," she replied, inclining her head with quiet politeness. "i am glad to be here. it feels... strange seeing the red keep after so long."

her gaze drifted briefly toward the crowd. whispers already moved like restless currents through the room, nobles circling one another carefully beneath all the silk.

then something quieter escaped her lips, "and it is easier to endure such gatherings in kind company."

"I was beginning to think you had no intention of joining us." The initial letter about Suho had been sent moons ago with very little response, and it was far too difficult to pen to paper Yerin's true intentions, for if the wrong eyes were to see... Yet the eldest Harlaw found it reassuring nonetheless that her youngest sister had managed to catch up to the traveling party. It'd been almost half a year since they saw each other last, a lifetime ago it feels.

the humor faded almost as quickly as it appeared. it always seemed to now. ever since the news of suho's death reached her somewhere upon the narrow sea, grief had settled inside seora like something sharp and festering. she had been halfway bound for one of the free cities when the letter arrived, salt-stained and maddeningly restrained in its wording. she remembered reading it once in silence before ordering the widow's hymn to turn around without hesitation.

blood had been spilled. family blood. and unsurprisingly, seora had never been particularly skilled at forgiveness.

"your letter told me absolutely nothing useful, if you must know," she said bluntly. "if you want me to spill some greyjoy blood, sister, you need only ask."