#tragickeepers

paper cannot hold fire. secrets are inevitably discovered. only the dead tell no tales. though that last one may be debated upon. with shizuka's help the past few moons, it may had been an arduous task but one that remained manageable, the secret of what began as weekly sleepwalks instead of nights that aligned with the moon to nearly daily wanderings. in raventree hall, the path was routine, familiar after more than two decades. yet in king's landing, there was no weirwood tree for her to find comfort in, to confide in, a faux godswood with a sorry excuse for a heart tree that leaves her wandering the red keep without destination and without a minder to stop her from roaming far from the blackwood's designated quarters.

barefoot and in plain white robes (for she long learned better than to simply trust a mere sleep chemise if she were to wander off), not utterly improper but still severely underdressed to roam a castle, mizuki takes slow, steady steps. onlookers may assume the lady was on some random leisure stroll from afar but the whites of her eyes tell a different tale. where she's been attempting to go, she has yet to find out with shizuka or ren able to intercept the older blackwood before she made it too far. yet on this night without shizuka's medicinal blend, she goes further than ever.

drifting through the keep, it's only when the presence of another registers in a sleepless mind that something within whispers fiercely: w a k e u p .

mizuki startles awake with a gasp, suddenly realizing that they had left the safety of her personal quarters. then she processes the presence of another watching her and slowly turns to face them still catching her breath, trying to swallow panic and tears, mind still reeling from the dream. the four dragons and their ire. the fire. the dreams have not ceased. she is tired. heavy is the burden to be the messenger of the old gods when she feels so far from them. was there a way to salvage it so it seem less suspicious that she stands here on the verge of a breakdown?

she hadn't wished to add more to their brother's worries, keeping this secret between sisters. since the evening before king aegor's death, the life-long predictable pattern of their sleepwalking shifted. the only nights when their dreams summoned them to wander had been on new moons and full moons, even then it was not every one, rather sporadic. yet since that night moons ago, mizuki would find herself in front of the heart tree in their home on any nights the dreams compel the greenseer to wander. a situation like that in raventree hall would be fine but in the red keep? no they could not risk such missteps.

mizuki offers their sister a strained smile before sipping the concoction, a blend of herbs and whatever else that ought to guarantee a good night's sleep or at the very least prohibit an unsupervised stroll. she bites back the bitterness and downs the entire bowl with their best attempt to maintain an element of grace.

setting: the evening of amerei's return, in the blackwood guest chambers

they had gone to the blackwood guest quarters in search of ren. nothing urgent beyond the shattering of resolve, exhaustion from a week of keeping themselves held together with parchment and paste, covering up the grief in fear of wandering thoughts confirming the worst. amerei was alive though. grover was recovering. all would be well now. so why did it feel as though she were drowning, an ache so deep that it made breathing hard. except ren was not in the rooms and for once, aila had wielded the authority of a ruling house to request to wait for his return within the blackwood sitting room.

it's one of his sisters who finds her first. lady shizuka had been a friend of amerei's, likely shared in the relief. so why couldn't aila find it in herself to just be glad? it would be proper, they reminded themselves, to dare be so unbecoming as to bawl before another noble lady. they gritted their teeth, pleading with their own sensibility to remain composed. "no, my lady. just... tired."