#withoutwings

𝕷𝖊𝖆𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖉𝖔𝖜𝖓, 𝕮𝖔𝖗𝖑𝖞𝖘 𝖑𝖔𝖔𝖐𝖘 𝖆𝖙 𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖉𝖆𝖚𝖌𝖍𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖞𝖊. Oh, it stings, like saltwater on an open wound. It hurts to see such beauty and wit and hardship and sorrow enter the heart of a girl so young. Rhaena and Baela were the ghosts of the daughter he had lost and the son he could not protect within his own home. Grief has haunted Corlys' for years-- as perhaps too much. He knows the rift it has caused him, his wife, their grandchildren, to be out and about on the War of the Stepstones, running from his own senses of guilt and shame. What kind of a man are you, Corlys Velaryon? He would ask himself every night under the blanket of stars after a rough day at war. That you chose violence over the connections of your family-- of your own blood.

    “odette.  you  shouldn’t  be  here,  darling.  let  me  guess  --  daddy  dearest  sent  you  to  check  up  on  me?  tell  me  to  go  back  to  hell?  well,  that  isn’t  happening.  but  i’m  glad  to  see  you.  i  missed  you,  little  one.”