#valheys

The request punches at a softer part of her, winds her in a way she is unable to quite understand. The ghost of their friendship had extended a careful hand towards her, makes a too sensitive petition for Alicent's voice and Alicent does ought but usher it away with artificial composure, slow-blinking it out of sight as an invisible string pulls her spine tight, lodging her pride between the knots of her vertebrae. Her expression remains unchanged. Years at court, years of being a King's wife had taught her that whatever hurt, whatever indignation rattled her, whatever soreness sought purchase between her ribs it wasn't a show for anyone to witness. It was the only thing that had ever been truly hers. She was a master at smoothing over before the feeling ever even touched the surface, her only betrayal being the way her fingers clasp at the fabric of her own skirts. Alicent momentarily wonders if honesty would be the correct avenue. She could talk about how every conversation with Rhaenyra feels like reopening a pus-weeping wound; how she tires of reconciliation when there is always a next thing; how she can no longer find the great love of her life in the face of the person Alicent had come to despise; how every attempt they make at bridging distance only serves as a reminder of how impossible a feat it is. She tires of her own feelings, her own grief. So she shares nothing.

𖥻 │▌ 𝙰 𝙼𝙴𝚂𝚂𝙰𝙶𝙴 𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝚅𝙴𝚂 𝙵𝚁𝙾𝙼 𝙷𝙰𝚁𝚁𝙸𝚂𝙾𝙽, 𝙰𝙽𝙳𝚁𝙴𝙰 : ❝ 𝚆𝙷𝙰𝚃'𝚂 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙰𝙽𝙶𝙻𝙴? 𝙻𝙴𝚅𝙴𝙻 𝚆𝙸𝚃𝙷 𝙼𝙴. ❞

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐀𝐒 𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅; 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐄, 𝐘𝐄𝐓 𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐘 𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋 [ ... ] the kid who had to grow up too fast. an old dog's eyes staring out from a pup's body. decorated in scars, ( on your face, your knuckles, your knees, ) haunted by the ghosts of those once held most dear. chased by the walking dead into a highway full of unmoving cars, under shane walsh's wing, and now you were here. stood before a woman you didn't know. interrogated like a damn criminal because no one had the chance to trust anybody else yet.

bloodshot grey eyes do a broad sweep of your surroundings, but no one else is nearby except @valheys. unlike the gentle sophia or sweet carl, you weren't raised to go belly up ──── you came in swinging wherever you went. so you bared your teeth and prepared to bite the hand that feeds [ ... ] patience once again falls by the wayside.

❛ ────my angle is that my entire family's dead and the world has gone to shit, 'kay? that's my angle. staying alive. protecting these kids when they don't have anybody else, and while people like you sit around on their ass doing laundry. what's your angle? ❜ even at fifteen, vi's words managed to cut deep. might've been impressive in any other circumstance .. here, it only made her seem like a mad dog that might've been better put down than leashed.

❛ 'cause last time i checked, shane and rick's the only cops around here. not you. ❜

the sun glistens off the clear blue water in the coast ,   while fishing boats skimmed across the surface .   there was something otherworldly to this place ,   as if the kingdom of mythological gods and goddesses was real .   james could only hold onto a small fraction of the scenery to truly appreciate it .   every moment felt like a new experience ,   maybe this is why cressida wanted him to visit her here ... there entered a thought :      perhaps she knew of the magical healing properties the amalfi coast has .   or maybe it was just the company he keeps ,   if her last name had anything to show for .   BRIGHT AS THE SUN ,   MOON ,   AND STARS .   cressida was always a guiding light in his very dark life .   even more so now when grief overtakes him .

ms. ponsonby and james had a friendly professional courtship .   one would think that is was completely one sided   ( the side of bond of course ,   what with all the questions and comments ... ANYTHING TO FILL THE VOID OF SILENCE . )   truthfully ?   people just didn't see the occasional smile that james brought to the older woman's lips .   ah ,   he knew it would be a good day when his boyish charm worked on her .   when she was short and to the point ,   well ... he knew he was in for a long conversation .   this time was one of those moments where bond new exactly how the conversation with m was going to go ( could be better ,   but instead of a job well done he has a sinking suspicion that he'll be receiving a lecture on how to cooperate with other operatives in the field .   NOT EXACTLY SHOWING SPORTSMANSHIP ,   ARE YOU BOND ?

the lights in the kitchen offer a softer yellow - ish glow ,   ILLUMINATING A GUIDING HAND .   some place in a remote part of tuscany ,   lies a farmhouse run by a small family of three   ( a son names so affectionately :      rafello ,   with short curly hair and honey - ed eyes ... those which closely watched them when they arrived . )   relying on the sanctity of strangers ,   though trust is hard to come by ,   ESPECIALLY WHEN IT NEEDS TO BE EARNED .   if history is to be put under a microscope ,   james' aptitude for trustworthy ally's has arguably been too fair .   in the game that is espionage ,   a world where it wouldn't be wise to put your faith into another .   for now he does so ──      for the sake of the mission of course .   a familiar face with familiar and gentle hands makes it easy to feel just a bit more relaxed .   though when it came to isola vale ,   well let's call it blind loyalty for the time being .

there's a pretty sort of orange that highlights an already setting sun ; the run of pinks and purples as a cool breeze from the EAST ensures that there will be indeed rain tomorrow. fighting upon lands all too certain as clan has turned against clan ; the lairds never once considering how distant lands may unite. there's the ache of a wound that will never quite heal , a back that has been beaten so badly that all that remains is mangled flesh and scar tissue that at times blinds jamie with pain.

' do you say that because you miss the old me ? ' there's a hint of humor laced within words as he inhales , ' we are all not who we once were ... the idea that we were young children running upon this land with the idea that we were all distantly related ... protecting one another ' brow creases as he remembers that ; that the blood of all their clans intertwined at one point but now ? well , many years have past and they are no longer the children they once were.

' i struggle with forgiveness ' he inhales , ' perhaps stubbornness overcomes ... ' careful with wording as he is well aware of the kind of warrior she can be. his current situation isn't -exactly- ideal then again ? he knows the ways of war ; everyone is collateral.