Fantasy Aedighar [closed]

[desti]

“It’s not stupid. He is your friend and I think we all are worried about him, but I’m here for you.”

"Thank you."

Arthor looked down as he felt her hand touch his. Leanah’s touch was so soft and gentle against his hands that were hardened from years of work. It felt nice, though, though it didn’t really make him feel that much better.

“Don’t be afraid if you need to cry.”

Leanah scooted closer to Arthor and he felt her press against his thigh. The thought of crying seemed nice, actually, just to let it all out and perhaps calm down afterwards. But doing it in front of Leanah? That sounded something only his drunk self would be comfortable doing. Arthor understood that she wouldn’t judge him, but what if she would?

"I don't need to cry,” Arthor said, an awkward and quiet chuckle leaving him.

It didn’t seem like Leanah believed him. Her hand moved to lace their fingers together and she gave it a tight squeeze, while her other hand laid over his shoulders. Leanah’s touch felt so nice and Arthor felt himself grow more comfortable by the second. When her arms pulled him into a hug, Arthor couldn’t really hold back anymore.

Arthor felt safe in Leanah’s arms. He felt as though he could be himself and she wouldn’t judge him for it. When Leanah pulled him down against her body, Arthor nuzzled closer to Leanah’s neck. It didn’t seem like she minded, so Arthor pressed closer against her, trying his hardest not to feel uncomfortable. Leanah was his friend, there was nothing wrong with this.

When Leanah pulled away from the hug, Arthor was painfully aware of just how vulnerable he was now. He raised his hands to wipe his eyes. It was stupid - guards were supposed to be strong, and Arthor wasn’t just a guard, he was a knight and the sworn shield of Lady Carlys Hastwyck. Now, Leanah was seeing him like this and Arthor couldn’t save himself by blaming wine.

Instead of scolding him, calling him weak or stupid, Leanah took one of his hands in both of hers. Arthor froze and watched their hands, as though they were so very interesting. He was still hesitant about doing or saying much, because he expected Leanah to get tired of this eventually. Arthor was supposed to take care of her, not the other way around.

“Are you sure you’re going to be ok?” Leanah asked.

Arthor thought about it for a second, before answering as honestly as he could, "I don't know."

Only when Leanah’s hand touched his face did Arthor actually look at her. He didn’t want to, but he felt as though he owed it to her to at least look her in the eyes. Arthor tried to tell himself that Leanah truly cared about him, but part of him still refused to believe it.

“It’s going to be okay.”

Would it be alright? Arthor would only be happy again when Elias would return, whether that’d be after months or years. If he wouldn’t, then Arthor feared he’d forever be stuck feeling like this. Of course, Arthor would still have Leanah, but losing Elias would be like losing half of himself. There would be nothing Leanah could do then, no sweet touches that would calm him and no gentle words that would soothe him.

“You don’t know that,” Arthor mumbled.

"Eventually it will all be okay Arthor. That I know."

Leanah’s words were sweet, but Arthor couldn’t keep himself from thinking that it was all downhill from here. If the war would reach the South… Gods, what then? Arthor watched Leanah closely, he tried to tell himself that her words were true, but it just didn’t happen. His mind was stubborn and kept throwing theories about their potentially horrible fates in his face.

“I wish I could believe you,” he whispered and took Leanah’s hand away from his face.

"Believe me, please."

Arthor tried and it didn’t work, and he knew it would never work. He chuckled at his failed attempts and brought his hand back to his face again. If only it was so easy and his whole mind could be changed by Leanah’s words. But that wasn’t how this worked. All Arthor could think about was the death and pain the coming months would bring Aedighar, and the Stranger himself would be the only winner of the war to come.

"Tell me what you're worried about Arthor."

Arthor shrugged, “about everything, I suppose. I didn’t realize the war was happening so soon… I’m afraid to imagine what we might lose in it.”

"I don't know much about war, but whatever happens I will be here if you need me. Hopefully we won't lose anything."

Arthor wished he could be as innocent as her. As naive and kind, but he wasn’t. All Arthor knew of the brutality of man and just how far it sometimes went. War would cause great losses to everyone and it would be a miracle if nobody of the Hastwyck household would get harmed.

 

[scoorpiuuss]

“You don’t know that.”

The reality was that Leanah didn’t know anything about what would happen, or if things would truly turn out to be okay. That was her experience though and what Arthor had shown her when her brother had died. The only thing that would make it hopeless for them was if the war reached them, and they would be slaughtered, but Leanah didn’t know what to expect from everything she had heard.

Leanah knew Elias was a wise man who wouldn’t get himself into trouble, but she imagined it would be difficult to stay out of trouble during a war. The chance of him dying was there, but every one of them could die. Still there was no time for them to brood over what could happen.

It was tough for her to attempt to stay positive with Arthor, but she knew she had to. Things would get better and soon enough she hoped Arthor would start hoping for Elias’ return rather than being upset about the chance of him never returning.

"Eventually it will all be okay Arthor. That I know."

“I wish I could believe you.”

Arthor removed her hand from his face and she pulled both her hands back to rest them against her lap. Maybe it wasn’t helping him that she was hugging him and touching him. Leanah wondered if he needed to be alone, but she didn’t want him to be alone and that was selfish of her.

"Believe me, please,” she pleaded, but he didn’t answer her.

Instead he chuckled and he still looked upset. Leanah didn’t want to give up on him though. If she would have to tell him the same words over and over again until he understood that everything would be okay, then she would. At the same time, she figured it would be incredibly annoying of her to do so.

"Tell me what you're worried about Arthor.”

“About everything, I suppose. I didn’t realize the war was happening so soon… I’m afraid to imagine what we might lose in it.”’

"I don't know much about war, but whatever happens I will be here if you need me. Hopefully we won't lose anything."

Everything about war was so foreign to her. Leanah didn’t know what would happen though she knew it wasn’t exactly good things that would happen. Maybe it was foolish of her to think that they wouldn’t lose anything. It could have just been wishful thinking that was doing the exact thing she hadn’t wanted to do, fill him with false hope.

Leanah let out a deep sigh as she moved onto the bed instead of sitting on the edge of it. “Come here,” she mumbled as she moved all the blankets to make space for them against the mattress. She laid down against her bed with her head resting against the pillow, her gaze glued on Arthor. If her words wouldn’t make a difference, maybe they could just lay there for a while and hold each other.

But Arthor didn’t move from where he sat.

“Please.”

Then Arthor moved to lay down next to her. His movements were so slow, almost like he was nervous. Leanah felt sorry for him that he had to feel this way. As he settled next to her she kept her hands to herself and so did he. Maybe he didn’t feel like it was okay right now, and she would respect that.

“Just relax.”

Arthor moved a little bit closer to her then, and Leanah took that as a sign that he wasn’t feeling uncomfortable around her. Hesitantly she moved her hand to rest against his arm. This wasn’t the first time they had laid on her bed together, but it felt like it was. Leanah was careful as she stroked her arm up to his shoulder. After the night in the hallway there had been no hesitation as she laid in his arms, but now she was scared that Arthor didn’t want it or that maybe he felt strange about it.

They were just friends, and it had almost become normal for her to let Arthor hold his arms around her and she would hold her arms around him.

Leanah smiled as he put his hand over hers. How could something so simple make her whole body feel unusually warm? It made her move just a little closer to him. Arthor did the same, and she couldn’t keep her eyes off his. It was so clear that he had been crying and that he was upset.

“Let us not think about what could happen anymore. Maybe I don’t know if things will be okay, and because I know nothing about war I let my head get filled with wishful thoughts that are just foolish to think. Either way we can be hopeful and pray to the Gods, but try to not think about it anymore,” Leanah said as she broke the silence between them.

"That's easier said than done. I can't just stop thinking about it, Leanah."

What he said was right, and Leanah didn’t know how to answer him to make him feel better. Sometimes just the silence would soothe her, and she found herself just watching Arthor as she didn’t open her mouth to say anything. Maybe it would be better for him if he just got to think about it.

Then he could process his thoughts and find out that eventually, things would be okay. Leanah decided to go with that approach as she kept her hand on his shoulder as she got lost in his eyes.

It was so damn silent. Just the sound of their breaths and the noises outside, and Leanah wanted to hold him closer to her. Before she had the chance to do anything Arthor leaned forward and their lips met. It was unexpected, but Leanah returned the kiss as her hand traveled from his shoulder to his cheek. Her eyes closed as she gently moved her lips against his. Maybe it was wrong of her to like the feeling of kissing him so much, but she didn’t wish for it to stop.

 

[desti]

Arthor felt the warmth of Leanah’s body disappear from his side and he turned his head to look over at her. Leanah had moved from the edge of the bed to lay down instead. She was watching him intently and yet Arthor didn’t dare to move from his spot. He knew it’d be best if he would stay where he was.

“Come here,” Leanah mumbled and it was so tempting, but still Arthor didn’t budge.

“Please,” he heard her.

When Arthor moved, he reasoned with himself it was so that he wouldn’t upset Leanah. In reality, he knew very well what he was doing and that it probably wasn’t right. He wasn’t in a right state of mind at the moment, and Arthor feared what that meant. It was like he was drunk on his sadness, and his actions didn’t quite make sense.

Hesitantly, slowly, Arthor moved to lay next to her. While doing that, he was trying to tell himself that this was alright and there was nothing inappropriate about it. At the same time, a part of his mind was screaming at him to leave before he’d do something very, very stupid. He wasn’t drunk, but he might as well been.

“Just relax.”

Relaxing sounded blissful, and Arthor tried to calm himself. He thought of everything, he thought of the war, he thought about Elias, and he thought about Leanah. All that just made him even more tense, but he tried to focus on the girl in front of him. If Arthor didn’t think about what her fate could possibly be, he almost felt comfortable and content.

Leanah’s touch made him feel better. He looked over when she touched his arm, moving her hand up to his shoulder. Arthor wanted to touch her, to feel that there was still something nice in this world. Leanah was so good, so beautiful and so kind, a stark contrast to what would happen to them soon.

Arthor moved his hand to cover hers. His eyes moved back to hers again as he inched just a little closer to her. Arthor was desperate, he needed something. Something good, something pure, something… something that would make him forget.

“Let us not think about what could happen anymore. Maybe I don’t know if things will be okay, and because I know nothing about war I let my head get filled with wishful thoughts that are just foolish to think. Either way we can be hopeful and pray to the Gods, but try to not think about it anymore,” Leanah said, breaking the comfortable silence that had set between them.

"That's easier said than done. I can't just stop thinking about it, Leanah."

Arthor watched her closely and expected her to say something back, but she didn’t. Perhaps he should be gladded for it. Leanah’s words didn’t really mean much to him. He knew he should’ve been happy to hear them, happy to know that Leanah’s view of the world was so optimistic. All that made him think about was how her naivety would be crushed soon.

Leanah’s words didn’t help, but being around her did. Arthor found himself watching her closely, as though he was trying to figure out what she was thinking just by looking into her eyes. She was so beautiful and sweet… every war needed a fair maiden that bards could sing about, and Leanah was just that in Arthor’s eyes.

The silence dragged on and Arthor couldn’t hear anything apart from their steady breathing. There was no doubt in his mind that he was a selfish man. He needed something to distract himself, Arthor needed something to convince himself that there was something good in this world left. Something, that would make the sadness go away at least for a while. A distraction.

Without thinking much about it, Arthor leant forwards and pressed his lips against hers. He expected her to pull away, perhaps, because no doubt that she was a lot smarter than him and would be able to tell that this wasn’t a situation they should be in. Instead, Leanah returned the kiss, her hand moving from his shoulder to rest on his cheek.

Arthor pulled away slightly and looked at her, moving his hand to her chin, stroking her jaw gently with his thumb. His mind raced with thoughts that he had so carefully locked away. Arthor thought he wouldn’t remember because of the wine, but the memories were so clear even after all the moons that had passed since it happened. It wasn’t right, of course it wasn’t, but all Arthor could think about that moment was how he wanted her. No, needed her.

There was a smile on Leanah’s face and her hand slowly moved to Arthor’s hair. She really should’ve said something, told him to leave perhaps, tell him how he was overstepping his boundaries. But she didn’t. Leanah just smiled. The thought of kissing her was too tempting and Arthor pressed their lips together again, moving his hand from her chin to the back of her neck to pull her even closer. It was wrong and he knew that well, but Arthor couldn’t stop himself.

 

[scoorpiuuss]

False Accusations
Chapter XXXV
House Faerson
We were, we are, we will be.
Stormwind, Eastern lands of Aedighar
​

Who would have expected that marching into a war would have been so boring? Aryana hadn’t been sure what to expect when they had left Nilfgaard, but spending countless days doing nothing was not what she had expected. There was always very little for her to do.

Sometimes there would be towering mountains around them, beautiful views of nature, and Aryana would be mesmerized by it. Though looking at the mountains and trees quickly got boring and wasn’t very entertaining.

Luckily Aryana still had Antra. Without her, she imagined the march would have reached a whole new low. She understood why her father wanted to support Lord Brynden, and she wanted to see King Trevas off the throne just as much as they did. But there was for sure more entertainment for the men during the march than the women who had to follow.

For months Aryana had been stuck by Antra’s side. They would do everything together, and even if they were doing something terribly dull, Aryana would find herself laughing with her. It was difficult not to grow close to her. Antra was so sweet, and they were both very caring for each other. If Aryana found Antra bored she would do her best to entertain her with something.

Though her friendship to Antra seemed to get stronger by each day, Aryana couldn’t say the same for her relationship to Lord Brynden. After what had looked like to be the start of them attempting to get to know each other, it had just stopped. Aryana knew that Lord Brynden was a busy man, but maybe she had expected more of him. Only some polite and straightforward chatter would have been enough to keep her interested.

Aryana hadn’t tried to keep some interest between them. Instead she had thought that they could get to know each other after the war.

Hopefully Lord Brynden wouldn’t be so busy then and actually have some time for her. Sometimes she felt a little selfish for wishing that he would acknowledge her, but as further to the East they got, the more Aryana started to not care.

Then everything had gotten tipped on its head.

The news of Rhea’s death had shocked her just as much as it had shocked everyone else. Aryana didn’t know her as well as she knew Antra. They had spoken to each other a few times, but they had never said anything significant to each other. That way Aryana felt as she didn’t really know Rhea. She too had been busy compared to her younger sister.

Now that she was dead though a lot of things had changed.

Aryana had tired to comfort Antra, but it had been difficult to be successful. Perhaps a little time would make things better, and Aryana had decided to leave Antra alone. A part of her had wanted to comfort Lord Brynden as well. He was going to be her husband one day, but instead, Aryana felt angry with him.

As soon as it was made official that Sir Darron was being held as a prisoner for Rhea’s murder, Aryana couldn’t help the sudden anger that washed over her. She knew Sir Darron well, and the last thing she would have expected from him was to commit a crime so terrible like murdering the Lord’s sister.

In her mind, it didn’t make sense, and it all seemed so unfair that Sir Darron was poorly treated for something she believed he hadn’t done.

What was even worse were the constant false accusations from others.

Knowing Sir Darron it all sounded like made up rambling to her, but Aryana knew she couldn’t do anything about it. She feared if she would speak up about her opinions the nasty glares she already got would only get worse. Her father had told her to be careful, and she wanted to be.

The last thing she wanted was to put herself and her father in danger. Aryana always took her father’s words seriously.

Though when he had told her that it would be alright, she didn’t quite believe him. Maybe the Gods would be just like he said, but Aryana doubted that and feared that Sir Darron would face a fate he didn’t deserve.

Aryana knew she would have to watch what she did and said, and not stir up more hatred towards Sir Darron or them. Still she found herself sneaking out of her tent once the sun had set.

Maybe there was a way she could help him. Aryana would try to speak to him and find out the truth, and then she would try to talk to her father about it again and tell him that they had to protect Sir Darron. She knew it would be tempting to speak for Sir Darron in front of Lord Brynden and his men. No one else seemed to care for him or want to prove his innocence, and in some way, Aryana felt a small responsibility for Sir Darron.

Aryana walked through the camp, doing her best at staying quiet as her dress was getting dirty being dragged along the ground. Her gaze traveled around, keeping an eye out for anyone that could have been lurking in the dark. Since she believed that Sir Darron was innocent, that meant whoever had really killed Rhea was still walking around in the camp

It didn’t feel right going behind her father’s back. Aryana imagined that he didn’t want her to be seen with Sir Darron, but most men were soundly asleep in their beds and she didn’t expect anyone to really see what she was doing. The only thing she hadn’t thought of was the guards that watched over Sir Darron. They knew who she was though.

Aryana would be married to Lord Brynden, or at least she thought she still would, and that was the excuse she used when they tried to deny her from seeing Sir Darron.

Once they let her past them, she walked quietly over to where Sir Darron was being kept. A week had passed since Rhea’s murder which meant he had been in there for some nights already. Aryana hoped that the northerners hadn’t stripped him of his personality and that he was still the Darron she knew. Hopefully they hadn’t hurt him either. All he deserved was to be let out.

“Sir Darron,” Aryana spoke quietly, “are you okay?”

 

[desti]

If someone would’ve told Darron that he had been sitting there for years, he would’ve believed them. It was as though the years before his imprisonment had been a different life entirely. Perhaps he wasn’t even alive anymore. Maybe Darron had died and this was his hell.

That day when Darron’s world had ended was still fresh in his mind. The days that came after were much more blurry, and Darron only remembered drifting in and out of consciousness.

Two guards had burst into his tent. Darron had, admittedly, drank a fair share of wine that night to calm himself down after the talk he’d had with Rhea. It had upset him, and wine seemed like a fair way to deal with it. At first, Darron thought that the guards were there to take him to the meeting that he scarcely remembered he was due to take part in, but that was not the case.

Instead, they threw a bucket of freezing cold water on him and dragged him out of his tent. Darron had fallen asleep in his clothes and he was suddenly thankful for that, because he had a feeling the two brutes wouldn't exactly be pleased if he'd ask them if he could put on his pants. The water hadn't helped much, and Darron was confused and tired, too dazed to really fight back against their arms around him. All Darron could think about was how cold he was.

People cursed at him when they saw him. Darron didn't understand. It seemed that this wasn't about the meeting at all, but perhaps Darron should've realized that by the way the men were acting towards him. Finally, he started to struggle in their grip, which only spurred the onlookers on. They cursed him, they called him a murderer, a coward. Darron didn't understand, but he knew that something was very, very wrong.

Someone even threw a rock at his head. It hit his forehead right above his eye. Darron felt the blood rush down his face and he tried once again to break free from his captors. These were Brynden's men, he recognized them now, but… what the fuck was going on?

“You’re going to pay for what you did,” one of the guards growled as he was pushed into a cage.

“And what would that be?” Darron frowned as he wiped the blood off of his face with the back of his hand.

“Murderer,” the guard spat at him before they left him alone.

Darron frowned kicked the bars that kept him away from everyone else. This part of camp was quiet, there was nobody around except some guards that gave him sour looks. They kept calling him a murderer. They were all murderers here. It confused him to no end.

The cage made him restless. Darron was a prisoner, but what crime had he committed? Sure, he got a little more aggressive when he was drunk, but he hadn’t left his tent that night. He was sure of it. There had been no blood on him when he woke, nor did he have any recollection of something shady happening.

In an effort to figure out just what had happened, Darron tried to talk to the guards around him. Especially when one of them brought him a pathetic meal after he’d spent a few hours there. None of them talked to him. They all looked at him with such hatred that Darron felt incredibly frustrated. He kicked and hit the bars around him out of frustration, throwing the watery stew the guard had brought him after him, but Darron immediately regretted it because his stomach ached from the lack of food.

Hours later, Lord Brynden showed up. Darron frowned as he saw the man. He had a dark shadow over his face, it almost frightened Darron, because he could see that same hatred the guards had for him. But Darron hadn’t done anything, he was sure of it. Whatever he was here for, he was innocent.

“Sir Darron,” Lord Brynden said, his voice was cold and the words that followed were as harsh as winter itself.

Darron didn’t even notice when Brynden left. The Lord had said many things, but Darron had heard only the things he cared about. He hadn’t said anything back to Brynden, how could he? What was there to say? Darron lost the strength to defend himself once Brynden told him what his supposed crime was.

In a way, Darron had murdered Rhea. He thought about their conversation and about the words they’d shared, about how upset she had been. Darron had left her. He’d left her all alone, if he would’ve stayed with her…

The days blurred together then. Darron ate only when his stomach started cramping unbearably, he didn’t remember the last time he spoke to anyone. He vaguely remembered Lord Aeron visiting him, telling him how he had it all under control, but perhaps it had been all a dream. Darron wished that this all was a horrible nightmare that he’d wake up from. He’d wake and hold Rhea in his arms, finding them both in Lady Lynde’s castle in that room they should’ve never left, and all would be well.

But Darron wasn’t able to wake up. The nightmare went on and on, and Darron only wished that it would end soon. He wished someone would come and finally chop his head off for the crime he had committed. It seemed like the only happy ending he’d ever get.

“Sir Darron, are you okay?”

It was a woman’s voice and Darron foolishly wondered if it was Rhea. She only visited him when he was sleeping, and Darron was able to somehow tell that he was awake now. It felt like a heavy chore to lift his head up from the way he was half-sitting, half-laying on the ground, leaning back against the bars behind him. Every part of Darron ached, but that was alright.

Aryana. Darron had thought that perhaps the Faersons had forgotten about him, but he wouldn’t blame them for it. He wished he could forget himself as well, forget all of this and just go. She had asked him a question, but Darron quickly forgot what it had been. He simply watched her, wondering if this meant that Lord Brynden had decided to punish him for his sins and Aryana was let in to say goodbye. Darron hoped that was true.

 

[scoorpiuuss]

The sight of Darron made Aryana angrier with the Northerners. They had no proof and no right to treat him that way, but she understood that the world wasn’t always kind and just to those who deserved it. Impulsively she could have tried to get him out of there, let him run off never to be found, but Aryana didn’t have that kind of strength inside her. Even if she had seen the chance she was sure she wouldn’t have been able to do it.

Her father’s words meant so much to her, maybe too much. Aryana was still struggling to figure out if she wanted to testify on Sir Darron’s behalf. It was tempting when she saw the condition he was in, but she still lacked the courage to do so, to go against her father and possibly ruin his plan to marry her to Lord Brynden.

One way she would take her father’s words and make sure that Sir Darron would be okay. That he would walk freely and not be punished anymore. How could she do that though? Darron hadn’t answered her question. All he did look at her as she crouched down to be on the same level as he was. That was actually answering her question pretty well. He wasn’t ok.

“I don’t know how long I can be here, Sir Darron. Please speak to me so I can help you.”

Perhaps Aryana wouldn’t get a single word out of him. There must have been something on his mind that he could tell her. Something that would make it easier for her to speak to her father. He was the one person who actually could do something. He was wiser than her. He knew how they could handle it if Aryana managed to get something out of Darron, but he still didn’t speak.

A slight sigh fell from her lips. What had they done to him?

“I know you didn’t do it,” Aryana mumbled as she placed her hands around the bars of the cage he sat in.

Why would Darron murder Rhea? There were many who had their assumptions as to what had happened and why Darron had done it, but none of it sounded believable to her. Maybe because she knew Darron personally, and she could never imagine him killing someone in such a horrible way without any motive.

No, it didn’t make any sense and Aryana had so many questions she wanted to be answered.

“We’re going to get you out of here. It’s going to be alright, but it won’t be easy if you don’t talk to me,” she sighed.

If Darron truly didn’t want to speak she would get up and walk away, but she didn’t want to give up just yet. Though he looked horrible. Aryana didn’t see anything in his eyes which frightened her at how empty he seemed. Had she dared she would have told those guards to treat him better, but she doubted they would listen to her.

"I killed her."

His words caused Aryana to shake her head. That couldn’t be true. She assumed the Northerners had pushed those words so far into his head that maybe he had started believing it, but she still didn’t believe he had killed anyone. Especially not Rhea. Aryana was almost desperate to help him.

“How? I don’t think you killed her.”

"It's my fault. It is. I didn't wield the knife, but I might as well have. It's my fault..."

Aryana frowned. Darron’s words made as much sense as the false accusations did. How could it have been his fault if he hadn’t been the one to kill her? There was something she was clearly missing that confused her. So many more questions rushed into her mind and she quickly glanced around them to make sure no one would be close enough to hear what they were talking about.

“I don’t understand what that means. How could it possibly be your fault if you didn’t kill her?”

"I should've stayed with her that night. But I left her all alone."

Here she had thought she couldn’t be more confused, but Darron’s words made less and less sense to her. Stayed with her? Left her alone? Aryana tried to make sense of everything. She tried to understand without having to ask him just what it was that he meant, but she couldn’t. Had she ever seen them together before? Aryana couldn’t remember.

The only thing she remembered was their arrival at Nilfgaard and the welcoming Darron got then. It didn’t seem like they got along very well and still, Darron was saying he should have stayed with her. Gods, it was confusing.

“Stayed with her?” Aryana questioned.

"She told me to go. I should've stayed."

So there was something Darron hadn’t told anyone. A reason maybe to why someone had seen him leave her tent, and why the Northerners had assumed it was him who had murdered her.

“I still don’t understand. She told you to go? Sir Darron what happened that night? Why were you with her?”

 

[desti]

Darron saw Aryana’s mouth move, but the words didn’t quite reach his ears. He figured it was just mindless pleasantries that she spoke to make him feel better, but Darron feared nothing ever would. Everything around him seemed meaningless, and for the first time he felt so empty inside.

"I killed her."

The words left his mouth before he could stop them. Darron blurted them out for no reason whatsoever. He hadn’t spoken to the guards in the past few days, but Aryana wasn’t a guard. She might even understand. Darron didn’t want her pity or her sorrow, he just wanted someone to listen to him for once.

“How? I don’t think you killed her.”

"It's my fault. It is. I didn't wield the knife, but I might as well have. It's my fault..."

That night was the worst mistake he’d ever made. For once in his life, Darron didn’t act stubborn. For once, he actually listened to Rhea and now… Gods, he had been so stupid. Darron should’ve stayed and protected her, but he hadn’t. He had left her and he was just as guilty as the murderer himself, if not more.

“I don’t understand what that means. How could it possibly be your fault if you didn’t kill her?”

"I should've stayed with her that night. But I left her all alone."

Aryana must’ve been terribly confused now. Darron didn’t really care, though, he just needed to talk about it. He needed to talk about it to someone. Perhaps Darron would’ve eventually caved and had this same conversation with some guard. Aryana was definitely preferable to that.

“Stayed with her?”

"She told me to go. I should've stayed."

Rhea must’ve hated him in those last few hours of her life. At least Darron could comfort himself in that way. She had hated him, and rightfully so. Now, Darron thought it had been silly of him to think that Rhea hadn’t meant the words she’d said that night. She had, and his actions later on had been exactly why. Darron had failed Rhea. He said he loved her, and he thought he did, but why had he left her?

“I still don’t understand. She told you to go? Sir Darron what happened that night? Why were you with her?”

"I don't want to be with you Darron. I don't want to see you ever again."

Darron’s hands shook as he rose them to rub his face. It had all been so good, everything had seemed to go so well… and yet he found himself imprisoned for the murder of the woman he loved. How had it all gone so wrong so fast? Had Darron missed the warning signs of something bad about to happen? Why did he leave her?

“She said she wanted me to leave, she said she never wanted to see me again, ” Darron mumbled and shook his head slightly, “she said she didn’t love me…”

"Love you? Were you two lovers?"

Lovers. It almost brought a smile to Darron’s face to think about what they had been. They had been many things, throughout their whole relationship. It almost felt fitting that it started with Rhea’s hate for him and ended with it.

“I loved her and I thought she loved me as well.”

Secrets seemed useless now. Darron didn’t care if anyone found out about the relationship he had had with Rhea. There was no point in hiding it anymore, and any consequences he would face, he’d be fine with. Darron didn’t care anymore.

"What happened?"

If Darron could’ve concentrated on one thought, perhaps he would’ve been able to explain it all to Aryana. From the start, to the very end. But it was as though his mind was putting together a puzzle, but the pieces never quite matched. It was all wrong, and Darron couldn’t focus on it.

“Rhea…” Darron whispered, closing his eyes from the pain her name caused him. Maybe he closed his eyes, Darron could imagine that Aryana was truly Rhea. Their voices were only similar then when he imagined it was Rhea in front of him, not Lady Aryana.

Was he going mad? Darron wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case. He didn’t feel quite sane, but Darron felt there was still a long road ahead before he’d reach total madness. Perhaps it’d be better that way. If he’d be mad, then surely he wouldn’t be able to obsess over how horrible he was.

“I should’ve stayed,” he mumbled, “Gods… I should’ve stayed.”

 

[scoorpiuuss]

“She said she wanted me to leave, she said she never wanted to see me again, she said she didn’t love me…”

As if things were slowly starting to make sense to Aryana, it seemed like it was also becoming more confusing. Never would she expected to her those words slip off of Darron’s lips. He was talking about her like they had been lovers. Aryana thought they didn’t get along. That their first encounter had made things very clear between them. Now Darron was talking about how Rhea had said she didn’t love him.

Aryana tried to put all his words together in an attempt to understand just what had been going on behind all of their backs. Had everyone been to blind to see or had they just hidden themselves so well?

"Love you? Were you two lovers?"

“I loved her and I thought she loved me as well.”

It was difficult not to lose her head at those words. Aryana had expected to get to know something, but not this. Darron had loved Rhea. That was at least enough proof to her that he hadn’t killed her. If only everyone else could have seen that as well, but Aryana understood that loving her must have been difficult. They weren’t supposed to be together, and that was most likely why no one knew the truth.

Now she knew though, but she didn’t know how to process it.

They had been lovers then, but something must have happened since Darron was telling Aryana how he thought Rhea had loved him. Aryana wondered what had happened.

"What happened?"

Knowing that Darron loved Rhea made her feel even worse for him. He had lost someone he loved and was sitting there being blamed for her murder. Aryana wanted to scream at her father and Lord Brynden, tell them everything that Darron had just told her. Tell them how Darron loved Rhea that there was no way he killed her, but that was just wishful thinking.

This secret would most likely stay between the two of them unless Darron told them himself.

“Rhea…”

Aryana still had a frown on her face as Darron said Rhea’s name. It sounded like it pained him to say it. Gods, what had happened between them that was making him seem so miserable. She felt even more responsible for him now. That she had to be a friend to him and take care of him, but there was no way she could and she wasn’t sure if she was comfortable doing so either.

“I should’ve stayed. Gods… I should’ve stayed.”

“It is not your fault Darron. I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but you did not kill Rhea. These men are spreading lies about you, but none of it is true. This is far from your fault.”

"You don't understand. If I would've stayed with her, then she'd still be alive."

“You couldn’t possibly know that someone wanted her dead. You don’t deserve to sit here to rot. I understand it must be painful if you two were lovers, but I don’t know what I should say or do.”

"I deserve every second of this. You shouldn't be here in the first place."

It was true that Aryana shouldn’t have been there talking to him, but she didn’t regret it even if it was wrong. She still sat there crouching down by the cage, knowing well that she could get scolded for what she was doing. Aryana’s frown disappeared from her face and now her expression was filled with sympathy. The Gods were cruel and she wasn’t used to that.

“If you want me to leave Sir Darron, I will, but I want to help you as much as I can.”

"You can't help me, Lady Aryana."

“I can get you out of here. Prove your innocence.”

Now she was almost making promises she would not be able to keep. Aryana would never be the one to step forward and prove Darron’s innocence. Not without her father’s permission which she would never get.

"I don't want that."

Aryana parted her lips to say something, but instead, she let silence fall between them for a little while. Darron didn’t want to get out of there which confused her, but after everything he had just said she knew he was blaming himself for what had happened to Rhea. There had to be a way Aryana could prove to him that this wasn’t his fault, but she doubted that she would be successful.

“What do you want?”

 

[desti]

“It is not your fault Darron. I don’t know what happened between the two of you, but you did not kill Rhea. These men are spreading lies about you, but none of it is true. This is far from your fault.”

Aryana could never possibly understand what Darron was going through. Though Darron liked the girl usually, now it felt like a chore to talk to her. What was the point? She’d never be able to truly understand what was going on in his head.

"You don't understand. If I would've stayed with her, then she'd still be alive."

The thought hurt so much. Just one decision on his part had ruined everything. It had taken Rhea's future from her, taken the joy out of Darron's life. All because he chose to leave. Darron never even considered that that might be the last time he'd see her. The only thing Darron was glad about was that he told Rhea that he loved her. At least she knew that.

“You couldn’t possibly know that someone wanted her dead. You don’t deserve to sit here to rot. I understand it must be painful if you two were lovers, but I don’t know what I should say or do.”

"I deserve every second of this. You shouldn't be here in the first place."

“If you want me to leave Sir Darron, I will, but I want to help you as much as I can.”

Help him? Could Aryana bring back the dead? If not, then Darron didn’t need anything she could do for him. Everything in this world that had mattered to him was gone, and there was nothing for him left.

"You can't help me, Lady Aryana."

“I can get you out of here. Prove your innocence.”

Get him out and prove his innocence… Darron had no wish for those things. He wasn't even sure if there was any will to live left inside of him. What did he have to live for? Rhea was all he had, all that he wanted. Without her, Darron was empty and nothing could ever make him feel whole again.

"I don't want that."

A silence set between them and Darron wondered if she'd leave now. It was nice to finally have some company for once, but it didn't help the ache inside of him. He knew Aryana only wished him well, and that's why Darron almost wanted her to go. Aryana shouldn't feel bad for someone like him. She shouldn't worry about his fate. Whatever it'd be, Darron wouldn't care anyways.

“What do you want?”

Rhea.

She was all he wanted and needed. Darron felt so lost without her, he wasn't sure how he was supposed to live without his love. It seemed impossible to return to the way he used to be. Rhea had changed him forever, but Darron didn't mind.

“Her. I only want her.”

If Darron could exchange his life for hers, he'd do it in an instant. He would go through the Seven Hells and suffer for thousands of years if it only meant that Rhea would be alive and well again.

"I'm sorry Darron."

Darron wanted to smile at her and thank her for still being by his side. He wanted to, but he couldn't. The corners of his lips wouldn't even tug upwards by the slightest. Darron wondered if he'd ever he able to smile and laugh again. If Lord Brynden would do as Darron wished, then he'd never have to find out the answer to that.

“It's not something you should worry about, Aryana.”

"I am allowed to worry. I don't think you deserve this."

It seemed pointless to argue with Aryana about this. Darron was of the firm belief that yes, he did deserve this. But nothing would convince Aryana, it seemed. Darron would just shut up about it. It felt nice to finally talk to someone, he didn't want to fuck that up so fast.

“What's happening in the camp? Nobody is telling me anything.”

Not that he'd asked, anyways. Darron didn't care if the war had started. At the same time, he wanted to know just how bad things were. He wanted to know how Lord Brynden was dealing with this. No doubt that the loss of Rhea as hitting him just as hard. The difference was that Brynden wasn't locked away in a cage for Rhea's murder.

"People are saying horrible things about you. I don't think they like us anymore."

Hard to imagine why. Darron couldn't blame them, really. The Northerners were close and had had a hard time trusting the Easterners from the very start. Losing one of their own by the hands of an Easterner likely made tensions a bit high.

“In that case, you shouldn't be walking around alone. Don't be reckless, Aryana,” Darron sakd.

"No one is going to hurt me."

Darron almost scoffed then, “why are you so sure of that?”

“I don't know.”

“You have to be careful, Aryana. Does your father even know that you're here?”

"No. I don't think he would approve if he knew."

Darron frowned, “you should leave. I don't want you to get into trouble.”

“Are you sure?”

Darron leant his head back against the bars behind him and nodded, “yes, Aryana. Be careful on your way back.”

 

[scoorpiuuss]

Guilt
Chapter XXXVI
House Hastwyck
Sow knowledge, reap wisdom
Santrella, Southern lands of Aedighar ​

Never had Leanah slept so peacefully before. It wasn’t the first time she had fallen asleep in Arthor’s arms, but it had been different now. They were still friends, but somehow Leanah felt closer to Arthor. It was strange. Something that they both would regret made her feel closer to him than she had ever felt before. Perhaps it was because she had shared something of herself that she wasn’t supposed to share with him.

There had been no wine involved this time. Leanah could have stopped it this time. Her mind had been in the right place, but her emotions hadn’t. With Arthor it was difficult. Sometimes her emotions would impulsively take over her mind and make her do things she wasn’t supposed to do. Making her feel things she wasn’t supposed to.

What did it even mean?

Leanah had known the consequences of her actions last night. They had done it before, and it had ended so horribly bad for their friendship that it was a miracle that they were still friends. Back then she felt hatred towards him, and yet, she had chosen to commit the same mistake again. Arthor had made her feel as hazy. He had pulled her out of the real world, making her forget all about morality.

As the sun peeked through her windows, Leanah let out a soft sigh at the feeling of Arthor’s arms still tightly around her. While her mind was still struggling to awake she turned her head to press a kiss down against his arm, then another kiss and another. There was a sleepy smile tugging as he pressed a few kisses against her shoulders.

It was a nice way to wake up. Lazy kisses that still felt so sweet.

But as soon as Leanah opened her eyes, she was dragged back into the real world. Almost like it was a reflex Leanah pulled away from Arthor, freeing herself of his embrace, cursing under her breath. It wasn’t difficult to remember what had happened. His touches still burned against her skin. Though his lips weren’t against her, it felt like he was still kissing her down her neck, and Leanah raised her hand to touch her neck.

That feeling didn’t go away. It was lingering on her skin, but all Leanah could think about was what would happen now. Would Arthor storm out of her room and never want to see her again. There was a bad feeling in the pits of her stomach, making her feel horrible as she turned to look at Arthor.

He had moved to the edge of the bed just as she had moved away from him.

Leanah wasn’t sure if it was regret or guilt she was feeling, or if it was both. He was covering himself with the sheets, and then Leanah did the same. Bringing them up to her chest as she nervously tried to meet his gaze. What did he feel? Did he feel regret or guilt?

“I’m sorry,” Leanah blurted out to break the silence between them.

"You're sorry? I'm sorry. Fuck, I'm so sorry. Fuck... fuck!"

It was a little painful to see him stressing out over what had happened. If anything, it only made her feel guilty because Leanah couldn’t deny that she had enjoyed it. It was so wrong though. She wasn’t supposed to enjoy it. She was supposed to tell him to leave and make sure it never happened again.

Leanah tore her gaze away from him, sitting up in her bed as she looked down at herself instead. There were so many things she wanted to say, but she was so afraid that any word that would come out of her mouth could cause him to leave. That wasn’t was she wanted.

“It’s okay. Please, it’s okay,” she mumbled.

Arthor didn’t answer. She could hear him cursing, and when she dared to glance over at him, he was running his fingers through his hair. A part of her wanted to move over to him and pull him into a hug. Tell him that it would be okay. They could just forget all about it and pretend it never happened, but she stayed there.

The fear of losing him was building up inside her. What if he would tell her that the only way this would never happen again was if they stopped being friends. Leanah wanted to fix it, but she had no idea how.

“Don’t be angry with me. Don’t leave please.”

Now Leanah was the one filled with panic as the thoughts of losing him rushed through her mind. What had happened months ago played through her mind over and over again. The pain she had felt back then had been unbearable, and she didn’t want to relive those memories. It frightened her.

"Angry with you? Why would I be angry with you? You should be angry at me, if anything. I fucked up. Again."

“I’m not angry at you. We both fucked up.”

"We sure fucking did. Gods, I am stupid. It's fine. It's fine! It'll all be fine."

Leanah’s gaze was still lingering on him. They were foolish, and she should have known better. Arthor’s reaction wasn’t making it any better though even if she tried to stay positive about the situation and get the panicking thoughts out of her head. How could she stay positive when it seemed like Arthor was losing his mind?

“I’m so sorry,” Leanah apologized as she felt so guilty for not stopping, “I’m so sorry Arthor.”

It was just as much her fault as it was his, but she wasn’t the one who had been upset and distressed. Leanah could have stopped them and saved them both from the feelings and thoughts they had now. Then Arthor wouldn’t be stressing out, and Leanah wouldn’t be panicking. Everything would have been so much easier then if only she had taken control over herself and realized that it was wrong.

 

[desti]

Arthor woke to sweet kisses on his arm. He didn’t really think much about who it was, and returned the gesture by kissing over the person’s shoulder. Only then did Arthor realize that something wasn’t quite right and that he wasn’t supposed to wake up to this. He almost feared to open his eyes. At least this time Arthor was sure that it wasn’t Elias, but that was almost worse.

That really just left one person that could fit the bill, though Arthor prayed that it wasn’t true. He couldn’t make that mistake again. Last time, it had almost ruined them both. Arthor feared that they wouldn’t be able to get through it twice.

As though Leanah realized at the same time, the girl pulled away from him and cursed. Arthor felt the need to tell her that Ladies shouldn’t curse, but he kept his mouth shut. He jumped back from her instead and sat on the edge of the bed, pulling the sheets around his hips so Leanah wouldn’t have to see him like that.

“I’m sorry.”

It almost made him laugh. Leanah had nothing to be sorry about. It was all Arthor’s fault. He’d used her when he was weak to make himself feel better, but that had been a horrible mistake. It was an impulsive decision and Arthor regretted making it. This wasn’t what he wanted at all.

“You’re sorry? I’m sorry. Fuck, I’m so sorry. Fuck... fuck!”

Perhaps Arthor was overreacting, but it didn’t feel like it. He only thought about how he’d lose Leanah again, because of how stupid he could be sometimes. Arthor felt disgusted with himself for doing this to her, but it was much too late to take any of it back.

“It’s okay. Please, it’s okay.”

Arthor shook his head slightly and cursed quietly. Why was he such a shitty friend? He loved Leanah so much, but why did he keep hurting her like this? Arthor ran his fingers through his hair, cursing under his breath at himself and what had happened.

“Don’t be angry with me. Don’t leave please.”
Leanah must’ve ben afraid to lose him as well. Arthor couldn’t understand. The girl should cut him off and things would be better then. Arthor wouldn’t keep hurting her like this and he’d only he her guard. But that wasn’t what he wanted, not really. Selfishly, Arthor wanted Leanah to be his friend, through it all. He loved her and he loved the relationship they had. Arthor couldn’t live without her smile, and he feared losing it again like last time.

“Angry with you? Why would I be angry with you? You should be angry at me, if anything. I fucked up. Again.”

“I’m not angry at you. We both fucked up.”

“We sure fucking did,” Arthor almost laughed, “Gods, I am stupid. It’s fine. It’s fine! It’ll all be fine.”

Arthor was desperately trying to convince himself of that. It had to be fine. He didn’t want to go through the pain of losing her. Arthor didn’t want to run from her and make her cry. Gods, he was a fool.

These dumb mistakes had to stop. Arthor wanted this to end, no pleasure was worth the risk of losing a friendship. He thought that, but he knew full well that it'd happen one day again, sooner or later.

“It's fine,” Arthor mumbled and nodded, “I'm not freaking out, not at all. You're alright, I'm alright, we'll be alright. It won't be like last time. This is -- this is just what friends do sometimes! It's fine.”

“Really? So you do this with Elias as well?”

It was as though Arthor's life flashed in front of his eyes. The tone of her voice didn't seem serious, and still Arthor wondered if they'd been so obvious and people had caught on. No, of course that couldn't be the case.

Arthor was good at fighting. Lying, not so much. He chuckled nervously and shrugged, trying to ignore the heat that was rising to his cheeks. “What? With Elias? That's ridiculous, Leanah. I would… we would never. Of course not,” he spat out a bit too loud perhaps, as though raising his voice might convince Leanah that he hadn't committed sins like that. As though the situation wasn't already horrible.

"It's okay. I just didn't expect that,” Leanah chuckled a little.

“Expect what? There's -- there's nothing to expect. We -- ah, fuck,” Arthor groaned and fell over to his side, burying his face into her pillows in shame.

One day he might wake up between Leanah and Elias and his heart would give out. Gods, he was the worst friend imaginable. Arthor groaned and shook his head, mumbling against the pillow, “I'm sorry.”

 

[scoorpiuuss]

The longer Leanah watched Arthor so distressed, the more she understood that this couldn’t happen again. It wasn’t worth it. No matter how good or fun it was in the moment, they couldn’t keep doing it. Leanah could have told him that it was fine that she had enjoyed it, but that wasn’t right. None of it was right. It pained Arthor, and it pained her. If he would have calmed down, they could have talked about it and tried to find a solution to their problem, but Arthor was still freaking out.

Leanah wondered what the best thing for them would be. If she should have told him to leave now and grow distant from their friendship. Perhaps that was the only solution since Arthor didn’t seem to have any good ideas. All he was doing was ramble on, and Leanah wanted to tell him to calm down.

It didn’t make sense to her how they could be so into each other, desperately craving the other only to apologize and panic about what would happen next. Why hadn’t Arthor stopped? It seemed like he was filled with regret over what had happened and Leanah didn’t know how to process her thoughts, how to handle the whole situation.

Leanah stroked her dark hair behind her ears as she watched him. Her whole room smelled like them, especially her bed. The scent filled her head with their moans and their touches. It would be impossible to forget even if she wanted to. What had happened was burned into her mind, and Leanah could have tried to forget, but it would stay there like a scar to remind her of everything.

“It's fine. I'm not freaking out, not at all. You're alright, I'm alright, we'll be alright. It won't be like last time. This is -- this is just what friends do sometimes! It's fine.”

Those words brought Leanah out of her thoughts. Her forehead wrinkled as she knitted her eyebrows together in a frown. Was it normal for friends to do that? That didn’t make sense because why would Arthor be so stressed. Leanah didn’t know what was normal or what wasn’t normal. Arthor was the only person she had been with that way. The only person she trusted.

But then a slight smile grew on her face that made her forget for a moment about the guilt and regret.

“Really? So you do this with Elias as well?” Leanah raised a brow, curious to know if Arthor had been doing this with Elias as well. If he had then maybe it was normal for friends to do that sort of things, but did that make things better or worse? She mostly meant it as a joke though, not really thinking that he would have done that with Elias.

“What? With Elias? That's ridiculous, Leanah. I would… we would never. Of course not.”

Arthor was a terrible liar. When she looked at him, his cheeks were flushing, and he was almost rambling about how he would have never done that. It shocked her a little. Leanah could have never imagined that Arthor and Elias would have done such things with each other, but she didn’t feel like there was anything wrong with it. The only problem was what did that mean.

"It's okay. I just didn't expect that,” she chuckled quietly.

“Expect what? There's -- there's nothing to expect. We -- ah, fuck.”

As he fell down on the mattress again and buried his face into her pillows, Arthor was admitting to it. Leanah wanted to ask why he and Elias had done that together, but maybe it was the same reason to why he was doing it with her. Thinking of that pained her a little because she didn’t know how to process it. In one moment, she was thinking of Arthor like he was the only thing that mattered to her, and in another, she wondered if their friendship was truly genuine.

“I'm sorry,” Arthor mumbled against the pillow.

It was a little fun to think about him and Elias, and it also made a bit more sense why he had been so upset when Elias had to leave. Leanah sighed quietly, tearing her gaze away from him, not that he was even looking. The strands of hair she had pushed behind her ears fell in front of her face again as she looked down at her lap.

“Are you and Elias lovers?”

"Lovers? No. No, no, no, no. We're friends. Best friends. That's it."

Leanah was for sure a little confused by all of it and the fact that she dared to move closer to him and lay her hand against his back even surprised her. “It’s okay Arthor. I won’t tell anyone, and we can forget what happened last night,” Leanah attempted to reassure him as she stroked her fingers along his back. Perhaps her touch would startle him, but if he showed any signs of being uncomfortable she would stop.

Arthor slightly nodded then, "please."

It was difficult for her to deny the fact that it hurt that they had to forget. That they couldn’t talk about it instead, but Leanah would do it for Arthor if that was what he wanted. It should have been what she wanted as well, but her mind was so conflicting, and it would be for a while since she wouldn’t be able to talk about what had happened.

Before Leanah could say another word, there was a knock at her door and once again panic shot through her veins. She glared at the door realizing that it was probably time for her handmaiden to help her get dressed and fix her hair, but Arthor was still in her room. Quickly she pushed Arthor out of the bed, avoiding looking at him since he wasn’t dressed. Neither was she.

“You need to hide.”

Then the person on the other side knocked on her door again, and Leanah pulled the sheets of her bed off as she wrapped herself in it, not bothering to find something to wear. If she took to long then maybe her handmaiden or whoever it was would grow suspicious. Like it wasn’t suspicious enough that she was wrapped in her bedsheets. There was no time though. No time for her to even attempt to look a little presentable, and she would try to send her handmaiden away. Tell her she didn’t need her right now.

 

[desti]

“Are you and Elias lovers?”

Now that was an awkward question. Lovers? Definitely not. But Arthor didn't know how to explain that situation. It was nothing more than mistakes made while drunk, and Arthor started to fear that perhaps Leanah thought it was something more. Of course, Arthor didn't want Leanah to think such things. He figured she wouldn't tell anyone either way, but her thoughts on him mattered greatly and this would taint them for sure.

"Lovers? No. No, no, no, no. We're friends. Best friends. That's it."

Still, Arthor's voice sounded a bit strange to himself and he hoped it didn't sound like he was lying again. Gods, he should finally learn to lie some day. It would not doubt come in useful, and he wouldn't feel as awkward as he did now.

What he did not expect was Leanah's hand on his back. It calmed Arthor more than it should have. He sighed and focused on her fingers against his back. Arthor remembered her hands gripping his shoulders, her fingers reaching up and tangling in his hair… He shouldn't have liked it, but he did. It made him angry at himself all over again.

“It’s okay Arthor. I won’t tell anyone, and we can forget what happened last night.”

Arthor nodded a little, "please."

But did he want to forget? Arthor knew that he should, that he should just move on. Part of him didn't want to do that, though. Arthor knew that he loved Leanah a lot, but he wasn't sure if he felt for her in that way. Or perhaps he just didn't allow himself to feel such things towards her, considering how inappropriate and impossible any sort of relationship would be with them.

Arthor wondered just what was wrong with him. Was he truly so desperate for pleasure that he risked his friendships for it? Gods, he could just go to a brothel if that was the case. Fuck a whore and get over it. So it couldn't just be because he craved release. Leanah and Elias were the two people he cared about the most, he loved them both so much, and it made no sense to him why he would jeopardize their relationships like that.

The only explanation was that Arthor was fucked in the head, really. That or he was even dumber than he thought. This couldn't continue, it wasn't how friends were supposed to act. Why did he do these things? What was so wrong with him that he needed this so bad?

A knock on the door made Arthor sit back up on the bed. He looked towards the noise before he felt Leanah's hands on him, pushing him off the mattress. Arthor kicked his clothes under her bed before he frantically looked around the room. Now they'd get caught too. It was a horrible day, truly was.

“You need to hide.”

And yet another knock. Arthor cursed quietly and slipped away to hide behind Leanah's closet. It was wide enough that someone standing in the doorway shouldn't be able to see him. Now, if they'd walk inside the room… then he'd be very fucked. At the same time, Arthor almost wanted to be caught, because then perhaps this all would end.

Arthor tried to breathe quietly as he leant his head against the side of the closet. He wondered what in his life had made him so pathetic and if there was anything he could do to fix it. Arthor had thought being sober would help, but this night had proven that theory untrue. He didn't want to be like this, he hated this, but it seemed that Arthor just couldn't stop.

Whatever Leanah and whoever it was at the door were talking about, Arthor didn't listen. How could he when all he could think about was how much of a fuck up he was? Arthor's hands went to rub his face out of frustration at himself. How could he ever make this right again? He didn't want to be like this, but Arthor didn't know how to fix himself.

The sound of the door shutting again was sweet. Arthor caught himself feeling relief from it. He stood there for a few seconds more before finally moving. Arthor knew he had to say something, he didn't want to lose her nor seem as though he didn't care for her.

“Leanah…” was all he could managed out as he stood and looked over at her. Arthor heard her say his name as she turned to look at him. How had they ended up here? Arthor wanted sure and he felt that if he knew, he'd only have even more questions.

“I don't want us to fall apart again,” Arthor said slowly, “this - whatever this was - was nice, but it's not worth ruining our friendship for.”

"Don't worry Arthor. It won't happen again."

“Of course… I'm sorry, Leanah,” Arthor sighed, “I -- oh, sorry.”

The realization that Arthor was still very much nude in front of her suddenly came to him. He covered himself with his hands before rushing over to her bed as he grabbed his trousers from the ground.

“It's okay,” Leanah repeated again while he was pulling on his pants.

Arthor turned to Leanah once that was taken care of and sighed, “I care so much about you, Leanah. I… I don't know what's wrong with me. I don't want to ruin what we have."

 

[scoorpiuuss]

Before Leanah had opened the door, she feared it was not her handmaiden that stood on the other side. Maybe her mother had come to visit her. What would Leanah tell her then? There was no reasonable explanation if she were to see Arthor wherever he was hiding. It was bad, and it made her realize how serious all of it was. How dangerous it could be for her to let Arthor sleep in bed with her like that.

But it wasn’t her mother. Leanah’s handmaiden stood on the other side, looking at Leanah with a tight smile on her lips. It didn’t take Leanah long to politely ask her to leave. She had used the excuse that she wanted to be alone and if anyone else wanted to bother her, they could come to her later. Luckily her handmaiden was an understanding woman. So kind and sweet that she didn’t ask any questions as she turned to leave.

That made Leanah sigh of relief as the door finally closed.

Her heart was pumping in her chest. It felt like it could stop any second and that would be it. This wasn’t good for her or for Arthor. It was hurting them both. That wasn’t worth it, was it? Leanah was still conflicted as to what she was supposed to feel and do. Why did it have to be something normal for it to be acceptable? Why was it so wrong of her to enjoy the pleasure Arthor gave her? Leanah didn’t understand.

“Leanah…”

Leanah turned to look at Arthor then, keeping her gaze at his as she was the only one who was covered up. “Arthor,” she mumbled. Why did they do these things to themselves when it caused them so much guilt and pain? Her mind wouldn’t stop creating questions for her that she wanted to be answered. It felt like she was going mad, and not even Arthor could help her.

“I don't want us to fall apart again. This - whatever this was - was nice, but it's not worth ruining our friendship for.”

Their friendship was what mattered most to her. It would always be the thing most valuable for her. Perhaps that was why she was hurting so much now. Fearing her own thoughts and feelings, wanting them to go away and stop bothering her. Leanah wanted to scream at herself that Arthor was her friends. That was it.

"Don't worry Arthor. It won't happen again,” Leanah reassured him.

If Arthor needed her to she would promise that she would never let it happen again. They would never spend another minute together in her bedchamber if that was what it would take for it to stop. Leanah would do anything for him. She was almost weak for Arthor. Craving his care and acceptance. Hurting him was not something she wished to do, and still, she caused him pain because she had been foolish.

“Of course… I'm sorry, Leanah. I -- oh, sorry.”

Leanah watched Arthor as he covered himself with his hands, walking over to pick up his trousers. Her gaze lingered on him in a very inappropriate way. “It's okay,” she said, quickly tearing her gaze away from him as he turned towards her. As if she couldn’t feel guiltier for not being able to look away.

“I care so much about you, Leanah. I… I don't know what's wrong with me. I don't want to ruin what we have."

But what was it that they had? Leanah wanted to confront him. Ask him why this had happened again, but she kept quiet, not wanting to cause more trouble than there already was.

“Is there something wrong with you?” She asked instead, raising her brow as she took a step closer to him. Her hands were holding the light fabric of the sheets around her still. Keeping her covered though Arthor had already seen everything. Leanah’s eyes widened as she looked at him. She still found him beautiful.

"Well, there must be. I don't understand why else I'd do things like this."

“Maybe we shouldn’t be together in my bedchamber again.”

"I think that's a good idea."

Leanah let out a sigh then as she walked over to her bed to sit on the edge of it, not facing Arthor anymore. Would she go through the same worries of being with child again? What if that happened this time? This time she wasn’t actually alone, but she felt alone even though Arthor was there. At least they were still friends. Leanah wouldn’t give up on him after what had happened.

“Do you want to leave?”

"Do you want me to leave?"

“I don’t know,” Leanah whispered.

The right thing to do was to make him leave so it would be easier to forget, but Leanah wanted him to stay. She just didn’t know what to tell Arthor. What felt like the best thing to do was the wrong thing to do. The Gods were so cruel. Leanah had to do what was right. That was what Arthor wanted. He wanted to forget, and she didn’t want to lose him as a friend. This would save their friendship.

"I understand. Say it and I'll go."

Leanah turned to look at Arthor then, “leave.”

"As you wish, Lady Leanah."

As he began to dress himself, Leanah looked down on the floor beneath her. Later they would have forgotten about it. Then they could talk like nothing had ever happened. Leanah pulled her feet up in the bed as she laid her head against her pillow. Maybe she was just making it worse by having him leave. She wasn’t sure, and all she knew was that she felt terribly lonely.

 

[desti]

“Maybe we shouldn’t be together in my bedchamber again.”

"I think that's a good idea."

Though Arthor would miss the more innocent times they’d spent in here, it would be for the better. It just wasn’t appropriate of their ranks to be alone in her room, and they should finally accept that. Whether or not they were friend didn’t really matter, because first and foremost she was Lady Leanah Hastwyck and he was Sir Arthor Overton.

Arthor watched Leanah as she sat down on the edge of the bed, her back facing him. Somehow, the fact that she was only covered by a thin bedsheet didn’t really occur to him. It wasn’t important to him now, perhaps yesterday he would’ve lost his mind over the sight in front of him. Now it was just his friend that he had hurt.

“Do you want to leave?”

"Do you want me to leave?"

“I don’t know,” Leanah said so quietly that Arthor almost didn’t hear her.

Whatever Leanah would ask of him, Arthor would do. Her word was his law and he’d oblige. Whether or not it hurt him or didn’t agree with his own thoughts didn’t really matter. In the end, it was Leanah’s decision and he would do as she pleased. Arthor just wanted to keep their friendship in tact, as hard as that might be.

"I understand. Say it and I'll go."

Selfishly, Arthor hoped that perhaps she’d tell him to stay. Just like she had the night before… Arthor remembered that word, and he was glad that he hadn’t left her like last time. It felt so stupid, still, of him to do such a thing. Why did he think that was a good idea?

Whatever Leanah would choose, Arthor would love her anyways. They shared a deep connection, and he didn’t want to lose that. It was rare to find a good friend these days, and even rarer when you almost never left the place you worked at. Arthor was lucky that he had found a friend in Leanah, he didn’t know how he would’ve lived without her smile.

“Leave.”

It was as though Leanah had thrown cold water on top of him. Arthor tried to not let the disappointment show in his face as he slowly nodded, looking down at the floor, “as you wish, Lady Leanah."

Arthor’s eyes went back to Leanah once she turned away from him again. She laid down on the bed again, while Arthor gathered his clothes and slowly got dressed. Arthor thought about just how upset he had been last night, and he wanted to thank Leanah, but it seemed strange to do it. Thinking about it only made him remember Elias, and everything else he had worried about last night.

Like a good knight ought to, Arthor bowed his head and turned, walking towards the bedchambers door. Now, if the handmaiden would see him exiting, perhaps it wouldn’t seem so suspicious. Apart from Leanah being very scarcely dressed, of course. Or perhaps people would care about that just as much as Arthor had while talking to her.

“Wait.”

Arthor froze with his hand extended to grasp the doorknob. He turned his head slightly to look at Leanah who had sat up on the bed, “yes, my Lady?”

"I lied. I don't want you to leave."

“I don’t want to leave either,” Arthor admitted as his arm dropped back down by his side and he turned to face her, taking a few steps towards her and the bed.

"Please don't leave. I don't want our friendship to be ruined over this. I don't want to be alone."

“Leanah,” Arthor sighed as he found himself next to the bed, crouching besides it, “I don’t want our friendship to be ruined either. This isn’t like last time and we -- we can talk about it, if you’d like. Maybe it would make it easier for us to move on. I’ll never leave you, Leanah.”

"I don't know what we could talk about. It was a mistake and I do regret it, but I don't know Arthor,” Leanah said as she turned to face him.

“I don’t mind not talking about it, if you don’t want to,” Arthor shrugged, “I just want us to get past this.”

Not talking about things like these seemed to be a great way to make things worse, honestly. It just made things awkward. Arthor remembered that after that first time, they only got past it once they spoke truly to each other about what had happened, and admitted to their mistakes. Perhaps that was what they needed to do this time as well.

"I feel like I'm going mad. My head is filled with foolish thoughts, and I don't know if it is better just to forget them or talk about it. How can we move past this?"

“We should talk about it. Ignoring these kinds of things doesn’t really work out that well in the long-run,” Arthor said, “I don’t know what the right decision here is. I just know that I want us to be alright.”

"Why didn't we stop?"

“I didn’t want to. You might have figured that out by now, but during moments like that… I don’t really think that much.”

Leanah chuckled slightly, "We are foolish."

“We are,” Arthor nodded with a small grin, “I’m the bigger fool here, though. Gods, I can be stupid.”

 

[scoorpiuuss]

No, Leanah didn’t want Arthor to leave. That was the last thing they needed. If he left, then they would fall back into what they had gone through months ago. Then she wouldn’t be able to talk to him and tell him about her thoughts. Her worries would only grow worse then if Arthor walked through that door. It was the right thing, but it was no what Leanah wanted.

“Wait.”

Arthor was standing by the door ready to walk out, but stopped at her words. Leanah sat up on the bed as he turned to look at her, “yes, my Lady?”

What Leanah wanted and needed was for Arthor to stay there, even if it was risky to have him in her room. They had just had her handmaiden almost walk in on them, and maybe they wouldn’t be so lucky this time around if someone were to knock on her door. Still they needed to talk. They needed to figure the situation out before they could even begin to move on.

"I lied. I don't want you to leave."

“I don’t want to leave either.”

"Please don't leave. I don't want our friendship to be ruined over this. I don't want to be alone."

Arthor walked towards her bed then, and Leanah’s gaze followed him as he crouched down beside the bed. It felt good that he didn’t want to leave either. That he was staying. A part of her had been afraid that he would just leave anyway because that had been her first wish. But luckily, he was there and Leanah already felt more at ease with herself and the distracting thoughts she had.

“Leanah, I don’t want our friendship to be ruined either. This isn’t like last time and we -- we can talk about it, if you’d like. Maybe it would make it easier for us to move on. I’ll never leave you, Leanah.”

"I don't know what we could talk about. It was a mistake and I do regret it, but I don't know Arthor,” she said as she turned to face him, her eyes still on his.

“I don’t mind not talking about it, if you don’t want to,” Arthor shrugged, “I just want us to get past this.”

That was what made her confused because Leanah did want to talk about it, but at the same time, there was a part of her that didn’t. What if she would say something wrong? It was quite possible she would and manage to make things worse than what they already were, but she hoped that wouldn’t happen. That Arthor would understand and want to listen to her.

"I feel like I'm going mad. My head is filled with foolish thoughts, and I don't know if it is better just to forget them or talk about it. How can we move past this?"

“We should talk about it. Ignoring these kinds of things doesn’t really work out that well in the long-run. I don’t know what the right decision here is. I just know that I want us to be alright.”

The question that lingered on Leanah’s mind was why they hadn’t stopped when both of them should have been fully able to. She had enjoyed it and been taken by the moment. It had felt right last night, but now it felt wrong. That was what made her so conflicted about the situation and she needed to know what Arthor thought.

"Why didn't we stop?"

“I didn’t want to. You might have figured that out by now, but during moments like that… I don’t really think that much.”

Leanah chuckled slightly, "we are foolish."

“We are,” Arthor nodded with a small grin, “I’m the bigger fool here, though. Gods, I can be stupid.”

“You can be, and you were pretty stupid Arthor. I can’t believe you have done this with Elias still.”

"Well, not exactly this."

“It is still interesting to me though.”

It was an attempt to lighten the air between them just a little bit. They could still talk about what had happened between them, but there was no need for them to be hurt by that just now. Leanah wanted to laugh with Arthor because then it would feel alright again. As long as she knew they were still going to be the same after their mistake then there would be no worries.

"Interesting...?"

“It was just not something I was expecting. I’m sorry if you don’t want to talk about that.”

"Does it change the way you look at me? And as long as you don't tell Elias that I told you, it's fine."

Leanah shook her head, “no, not at all. You’re still the same Arthor to me, and I won’t tell Elias.”

"Good. Elias would kill me otherwise."

Leanah let one of her hands go from the sheet as she reached down towards his hand. It wasn’t anything inappropriate in mind behind it, all she wanted was to hold his hand for a little while. Show Arthor that she wasn’t angry with him. He let her take his hand, and she smiled as he rubbed his thumb against her skin. Through their mistakes they still managed to stay friends.

 

[desti]

Truth.
Chapter XXXVII
House Rhyne
May all be as one
Nilfgaard, Northern lands of Aedighar ​

Brynden had preferred to think that it’d been Sir Darron behind this. Then, he could blame himself just for not having guards outside Rhea’s tent. The rest of the blame would go to Sir Darron. Perhaps, he had snapped after too much wine. Finally, Rhea’s punches and words had gotten to him and he seeked to take revenge. That was so much easier to believe and live with.

Knowing that it was truly his own fault was unbearable. Brynden was happy that the true culprits were captive, waiting for his decision on what to do with them. At the same time, they were a grim reminder that his own mistakes had brought them here. Rhea was dead because of Brynden’s decision.

After the news of Brynden and Aryana’s engagement inevitably spread through the camp, Lord Raknor must’ve heard all about it. Brynden still hadn’t quite gotten to explaining everything to him, partly because he feared that Lord Raknor and his men would leave camp then. Without him, it’d be hard to fight, even harder to win. Obviously, the news upset Lord Raknor greatly, because that meant that his daughter wouldn’t be married into House Rhyne.

Since Brynden had taken this away from Lord Raknor, he must’ve thought it’d only be fair to take something from him as well. Brynden had gotten the impression that Raknor didn’t exactly like Rhea or trust her all too much, but he still wasn’t quite sure why he had chosen her. It would’ve made more sense to kill Aryana herself, but Brynden didn’t really want to think much about why Lord Raknor had gotten his men to do such a thing. Brynden only cared that it was his fault in the end, no matter why Lord Raknor had done it.

A boy had told him everything. Perhaps boy wasn’t quite the word he should use, but he was six-and-ten and hadn’t seen a true battle yet. Calling him a man didn’t feel right to Brynden. Gods, he’d been terrified. The boy was shaking and stuttering and it took Brynden a long time to figure out just what he was saying. When he did, Brynden had to threaten the boy to make sure that he wasn’t lying. Mostly because Brynden just didn’t want to believe him.

Of course, Sir Darron had to be let go. Thanks to the boy, Brynden put away all of the men that he’d listed, including Lord Raknor himself. The boy was shut away as well, because, after all, he had been a part of it, even if he had snitched on the rest of them. Brynden didn’t know if he could trust the rest of Lord Raknor’s men, and he would sleep easier if they’d all just leave. At the same time, he needed them and he coudln’t lose them. Brynden hoped they would stay with him after this, but he didn’t really hope for it.

To Brynden, it almost seemed like Sir Darron didn’t want to be let free. When he was told that by Lord Brynden himself, Darron hadn’t shown much emotion and just nodded slightly at his words. Had his short imprisonment broken Sir Darron? Brynden was surprised at his attitude, but he really didn’t care that much to find out the reasons for it. He had enough things to worry about as it was.

Lord Aeron and Brynden had talked a lot during the past few days. Like expected, he wasn’t exactly thrilled about having to take all the blame for Rhea’s murder. Brynden had heard about Eastern knights getting beat up by drunken Northerners, which surely didn’t make Lord Aeron feel very welcome here anymore. While the Lord thanked Brynden for letting go of Darron, he was quick to tell him that they wouldn’t be staying here. The Faersons were leaving.

Brynden had feared that ever since he took Darron captive. Now, it was becoming a harsh reality and Brynden thought that the war was pretty much lost now. Brynden only hoped that the man Lady Hastwyck was sending him would be decent. With a good tactic, perhaps not all was lost.

Thinking about war was the one thing that made Brynden calm, strangely. Before, it had been the thing that made him stress out more than anything, but now it was like an old friend. His siblings were by his side, but Brynden caught himself drifting away from them somehow. Brynden buried himself in his work and only went to them when they needed him. He’d talk to them, hug them, smile, but Brynden didn’t doubt that they felt the sudden distance as well. Though he felt guilty, Brynden felt better when he was talking and thinking about other things.

The Faersons leaving gave them more headaches than ever. Even if half of Lord Raknor’s men would stay behind to keep fighting for him, losing the Easterners would be dreadful. Brynden didn’t doubt that they’d all leave, because the environment they were in wasn’t exactly friendly anymore. Even though the news about the true crime spread fast, that didn’t really stop the Northerners from being less than polite towards Lord Aeron’s men.

When Lord Aeron came to Brynden, informing him of his decisions, it wasn’t exactly surprising. Brynden was already thinking about how he’d make sure that the loss of the Easterners wouldn’t be a heavy blow, so he just nodded to what Lord Aeron was talking about. He had said some kind words to him, of course, and Brynden felt that there were no hard feelings between them. Or perhaps it was just wishful thinking, because Lord Aeron was leaving him alone after all.

It was a shame, Brynden had grown to like the Lord. Admittedly, Brynden hadn’t really talked to Aryana whatsoever ever since they left Nilfgaard, but he’d miss her as well. Though Lord Aeron didn’t say it explicitly, Brynden figured that their marriage was off. Part of him wasn’t sure if he even wanted to marry Aryana now, every time he’d look at her, she’d just be a grim reminder of Rhea’s murder.

 

[scoorpiuuss]

Their whole march with the Northerners seemed to have been for nothing. Aryana had been happy that Sir Darron was getting released. That was what she had wanted and had tried to find the courage to fight for. She knew the truth about what happened that night, but she didn’t have anyone else to put the blame on.

Even if she would have been brave enough to talk to Lord Brynden about it, she imagined they would have kept pointing their fingers at Darron. But now there had been a confession and Darron was a free man.

What made the whole alliance seem pointless to her though was the fact that they were leaving. A part of her was glad they were. It didn’t feel safe staying around with the Northerners anymore. They were violent and angry. The only person she trusted outside of her own was Antra.

Aryana had expressed her concern to her father, and he seemed to be on the same page as her. They would go back home and hopefully stay safely away from the war. It didn’t seem like it would be threatening anymore. Lord Brynden would lose a lot of men, that she knew. King Trevas probably had a lot of men on his side and though Aryana didn’t think fondly of the Crown she only saw them to be successful in the war.

Since their plan had changed Aryana had started accepting the fact that she would marry Lord Brynden after the war. Who knew if he would even come out alive? It didn’t upset her that she wouldn’t marry him. After Rhea’s death and Darron’s imprisonment, she wasn’t so hopeful about him as she had been back in Nilfgaard. He wasn’t the same man who had shown her the river Allehil. The man who tried to get to know her.

Before Rhea’s death she had understood that he was a busy man, but now she was choosing not to so she could have a reason to feel angry with him. Perhaps that was selfish of her. Aryana shouldn’t have been complaining about the way Lord Brynden lacked dedication towards her. Their marriage would be purely out of political reasons, and though Aryana had wanted to learn to love him, that didn’t mean it had been the same for him.

But now it didn’t matter anymore. They wouldn’t be married and Aryana could be as angry as she liked.

All her things were packed away. They would leave in the evening after saying goodbye to the Rhyne’s. Aryana was mostly preparing herself to say goodbye to Antra.

Even if they hadn’t spoken much lately she wouldn’t forget the friend she had found in the girl. How sweet and kind Antra had been with her. Aryana wished she would come out of the war safely so maybe they could see each other again sometime.

That would have been nice though it most likely meant she would have to travel back to Nilfgaard to do so, and she never wished to step foot in that castle again. Aryana feared the Northerners would never forget. She feared the Easterners would never forget.

The sun had disappeared behind the tall mountains and Aryana looked at the Rhyne siblings in front of her. Her face was mostly expressionless. Just watching them carefully as her father spoke. The words that were being exchanged between the two Lords didn’t matter much to her. All she could think about was how she would finally be back in her own bed with shelter from the cold.

While she stood her gaze mostly lingered on Antra who she managed to smile sadly to. But once her gaze fell on Brynden she knitted her eyebrows together in a frown, nearly glaring at him.

Aryana kept her hands behind her back, fiddling with her own fingers as her mind filled with the thoughts of what it would have been like to be his wife. Would her life have been miserable? She had never really realized how busy Lords actually were.

Her father had spent a lot of time with her though he was a Lord, and maybe that was why she found it so weird that Lord Brynden hadn’t. But what she wondered about was if he would have been just as busy after the war and if Aryana would be stuck roaming castle hallways alone for the rest of her life with him.

Would they only talk to each other when it was time for her to give him a child?

The more Aryana thought about it the happier she felt that she wouldn’t be his wife. She wondered if they had actually got to know each other if she would have offered Brynden her comfort after Rhea’s death. Perhaps she would have acted like a Lady should then and been by his side to guide him through his grief and hold his hand, but that wasn’t them. That would never be them.

Once she was able to get out of her thoughts Aryana had walked over to Antra.

Aryana told Antra how much she would miss her and how deeply sorry she was for Rhea’s death. Then she wrapped her arms around her friend, pulling Antra into a hug. Ayana would truly miss her and all the things they had done together. She hoped Antra would never forget it either.

 

[desti]

It was really just them there. Brynden, Willelm, Antra on one side and the Faersons on the other. Though that was preferable - Brynden and Lord Aeron didn’t want to make a big scene of their exit. That would do nobody good. Though there were tensions between them, Lord Aeron wanted to move out as quietly as possible so that everyone could just move on from this. Brynden thought he’d bring the East and the North back together again, but he’d been wrong.

Lord Aeron and Brynden exchanged pleasantries that wouldn’t matter much. The Lord said how upset he was about their alliance ending so abruptly, but that meant nothing to Brynden. If he was so sorry, then he should’ve stayed and tried to figure things out. Brynden knew that he should’ve put in an effort to fix things as well, but right now he just didn’t feel up to it. Everything had been ruined so fast, he didn’t even know where to start.

Occasionally, Brynden looked over to Aryana. She didn’t seem happy nor sad as she stood there. Brynden regretted not talking to her when he had the chance, but perhaps it had been better that way. Now, he felt nothing as he stood there about to say goodbye to the woman that he almost married. Brynden was almost glad that they hadn’t gotten to know each other.

One time, when his gaze went to her he was met with a frown. Brynden had expected many things, but a glare wasn’t really it. He wasn’t sure what he had done to upset Aryana, but it didn’t really matter. Soon, she’d be gone, safe and sound in the East, and they’ll never speak to each other again. Whatever had upset her, Aryana would get over it.

Over the months spent travelling, Brynden had sometimes thought about Aryana. He’d lay there with some woman in his arms and he wondered if one day it’d be Aryana laying there. It wasn’t exactly the perfect moment to think of her, but Brynden’s mind was always occupied with war whenever he wasn’t with a woman. Those were the rare times when he’d actually remember that Aryana was still at camp with them.

Brynden barely knew her, really. He didn’t think that she cared for him, otherwise Aryana might’ve sought him out to steal a few moments away from his day. Perhaps Brynden would’ve even liked that. He had enjoyed the time they had spent together that day at Nilfgaard, but that was so long ago now. Aryana likely didn’t even remember it, so Brynden tried to forget as well. It didn’t matter and there were more important things.

Wondering about what could’ve been was useless, so Brynden stopped doing that. He turned back to Lord Aeron and nodded at what the older man was saying. Brynden forced out a smile when Lord Aeron rested his hand on his shoulder, “I am truly sorry for your loss, Lord Brynden.”

Brynden wasn’t sure what to say to that, so he just nodded once more. He doubted anyone could truly understand the pain he was going through. The sheer amount of guilt inside of him made it hard for Brynden to get up in the morning. If he didn’t have such a strong sense of duty, Brynden might just lay there and rot. But he couldn’t do that to the North, and he couldn’t do that to Willelm and Antra.

Again, Brynden’s eyes looked over at Aryana and saw her hugging his sister. It was a shame Aryana had to leave. Antra could use a friend in these dark times. Brynden didn’t have time and he wasn’t sure how much time Willelm could give her either, so now he feared that his sister would be all alone again. He hated the thought of it, but there wasn’t anything he could do.

Lord Aeron excused himself to go talk to Willelm and Antra and Brynden nodded at him, thanking him for everything one last time. Then, he found himself standing there rather awkwardly. Brynden wasn’t sure if he wanted to talk to Aryana, as there was truly nothing to say, but still he found himself taking a step towards her.

“Lady Aryana…”

"Lord Brynden."

The look Aryana gave him wasn’t exactly what Brynden would’ve liked. He felt foolish for even starting a conversation with her, because now he was lost for words. Brynden didn’t understand why that was so, and he desperately tried to think of something to say.

“I’m sad to see you go. I’m sure Antra will miss you dearly.”

"I will miss Antra too."

It seemed clear to Brynden that Aryana felt the same as he did. They would move on from this quickly and forget about each other and their engagement. That would be for the best, and Brynden hoped that Lord Aeron would find her a better man soon. Overall, Aryana seemed like a nice girl and he only wished her the best.

Brynden nodded and forced a smile, “I apologize that we didn’t… er… work out. I’m sure this isn’t what you thought would happen.”

 

[scoorpiuuss]

Once Aryana pulled away from Antra she had wanted to go straight to Willelm to say goodbye though she barely knew the man. She wanted to ignore Brynden completely. That was what they had been doing for the last few months. Ignoring each other and neither of them had bothered to raise a hand to do anything about it. Aryana knew that it was just as much her fault as it was Brynden’s, but she was still selfishly blaming him in her mind.

Perhaps it was because she had been hopeful that she felt angry with him. That and what had happened to Sir Darron. Aryana wanted to tell Brynden what she knew about Darron and Rhea, but she would keep Darron’s secret to be only between them. It didn’t matter now anyway since Darron wasn’t in a cage anymore.

Though she wanted to ignore Brynden, he had stepped towards her when her father went to talk to Willelm and Antra. The frown she’d had earlier spread over her face, confused as to why he suddenly wanted to talk to her. All this time they hadn’t said a word to each other and now he wanted to.

“Lady Aryana…”

"Lord Brynden."

Aryana would try to get over with it quickly as she didn’t wish to speak to him. Deep down she understood how painful it must have been for him to lose his sister. She felt sorry for him, but there were so many negative thoughts that kept pushing that away which made it seem like the right thing for her to do was to just not care. Though she wanted to. She cared for Antra and wanted to stay there and comfort her, and she would have done the same for Brynden if only she felt like she could, but she couldn’t.

“I’m sad to see you go. I’m sure Antra will miss you dearly.”

"I will miss Antra too."

“I apologize that we didn’t… er… work out. I’m sure this isn’t what you thought would happen.”

Though Brynden smiled, Aryana still looked at him like she truly didn’t want to be there anymore. Either way his smile looked forced so maybe he didn’t want to be there either.

“It’s quite alright. I don’t really care.”

Perhaps her words were a little too harsh than she meant for them to be and she wanted to apologize. Usually she was so sweet and wanted to do her best for everyone, but she couldn’t help the way she felt in that moment. Either way they would never see each other again so there was no point in apologizing.

"Oh... well, you have no reason to care I suppose."

“Do you care?”

"No. Perhaps if I would've gotten to know you, I would."

Aryana let out a slight scoff at that. If he had tried then she would have cared that they wouldn’t be married, but neither of them cared. It sounded so stupid hearing him say that he would have cared if he had gotten to know her. Why hadn’t he then? Aryana tried to calm herself down so she wouldn’t say anything too harsh again, but it didn’t seem to work.

“I won’t forget about the day you showed me River Allehil, Lord Brynden. It’s a shame I can’t recall you trying to get to know me after that.”

"I'm afraid I had more important things to do."

It almost hurt hearing him say it out loud because Aryana knew he had more important things to do. There was a war ahead of him after all, but his words were still hurtful and maybe just as harsh as her own words. Aryana felt a little speechless then, just staring at him like she didn’t want to believe what he had just said, like she thought he had said it to purposely hurt her.

“I’m glad I won’t be your wife then.”

"Aryana, you must understand that I don't do much else these days other than plan for the war ahead. It takes up quite a lot of time."

“It sure seems like you have enough time to be with your whores though.”

Before Rhea had died she had told Aryana about the whores Brynden often fucked. Back then it frightened her because she thought Brynden wouldn’t be faithful once the day they would be married came, but now she was angrier that he was trying to make excuses for why he didn’t have time for her when he clearly had time for other women.

"What?"

“You didn’t think I knew, did you?”

"I didn't think anybody knew."

“I know and I know war and whores are important to you Lord Brynden, but forgive me for thinking that I would be important to you too. It is okay now though, I don’t care anymore.”

 

[desti]

“It’s quite alright. I don’t really care.”

Brynden likely couldn’t hide the disappointment that must’ve showed on his face then. He had always been very bad at hiding his emotions, which didn’t suit a Lord. In that way, Brynden was once again just like his father. Whatever he felt, would be easily recognizable on his face. Brynden just didn’t know how to hide such things, for he felt everything so strongly.

"Oh... well, you have no reason to care I suppose."

While Brynden at least had something to work on, Aryana really only had Antra to distract herself with. Admittedly, Brynden couldn’t think of one other thing she could busy herself with other than spending time with his sister. Perhaps Aryana had been terribly bored throughout this whole travel, and Brynden should’ve been there to ease her boredom, but he hadn’t. He’d been too busy and he’d just assumed that Aryana would understand his absence.

“Do you care?”

"No. Perhaps if I would've gotten to know you, I would."

“I won’t forget about the day you showed me River Allehil, Lord Brynden. It’s a shame I can’t recall you trying to get to know me after that.”

While part of him was almost happy that she did remember their journey to the river after all, Ayana’s words sounded terribly harsh to him otherwise. Brynden thought she didn’t exactly have the right to scold him over such things, as he was a busy man and rarely found time for other things than war. She sounded almost angry with him over it, yet Aryana had done nothing herself to fix it. Brynden would understand if she would’ve tried and he’d pushed her away, but now she had no right to judge him.

"I'm afraid I had more important things to do."

Now that the words left his mouth, Brynden was surprised at how bad they sounded. Of course, getting to know his wife would be important to him in any other circumstances. He would’ve gladly spent day after day with her had they been in Nilfgaard. But this was so different, there was hardly any time for anything other than war. Brynden didn’t have time to sit down with Aryana and talk to her about simple things.

“I’m glad I won’t be your wife then.”

Brynden regretted his words, because he hadn’t intended to hurt her with them. It seemed to him that Aryana was trying to hurt him with what she said, and she had pretty much managed to do so. Brynden hadn’t had time for her, that was true, but he thought that perhaps he’d make it up for her once they’d be married. He wanted to be a good husband to her and he thought Aryana would make a good wife as well. Apparently, she wasn’t that into the idea, though.

"Aryana, you must understand that I don't do much else these days other than plan for the war ahead. It takes up quite a lot of time."

While some would only have to show up for meetings and such, Brynden had to keep working the whole day. He had to make sure everything at camp was running okay, he had to constantly check their supplies and equipment. Everything had to be in good order and Brynden didn’t trust anyone but himself to make sure of it. His days were stressful and long, and Aryana just didn’t fit in them. Brynden barely even had time for himself, much less other people.

“It sure seems like you have enough time to be with your whores though.”

Brynden froze then as he stared at Aryana for a while. She knew? Back in Nilfgaard it had been a lot easier to hide his habits, but perhaps it was less of a secret at camp. Brynden felt heat rising up his neck as he kept his eyes on her.

"What?"

Then Brynden vaguely remembered Rhea saying something about telling Aryana about this. It had been so long ago, it almost felt like years had passed since then. Rhea had promised him that she wouldn’t say a thing after Brynden had begged her not to. Apparently, that wasn’t the case unless Aryana had found out in some other way.

“You didn’t think I knew, did you?”

"I didn't think anybody knew."

That would be what Brynden preferred. There wasn’t anything wrong with enjoying the company of women, nor was he the only man doing such things, but something about it still made him feel awkward. As though it was a terrible secret that nobody should know about. Brynden wasn’t sure why he felt that way, and he especially hated that Aryana now knew.

“I know and I know war and whores are important to you Lord Brynden, but forgive me for thinking that I would be important to you too. It is okay now though, I don’t care anymore.”

Brynden almost felt the need to defend himself. It took a lot less effort to fuck someone than it did to talk to them. It was also a lot more relaxing, really, and it calmed him down. Now that he thought about it, though, Brynden could never say such things to a Lady. That just seemed very inappropriate and out of place.

“I would’ve made time for you once the war was over,” Brynden said, “I apologize, Lady Aryana.”

"You don't have to apologize."

“I do. I’ve upset you.”

"Yes, you have."

Brynden sighed and nodded, “I’m truly sorry, Lady Aryana. I’m sure your father will find you a match much better than me.”

 

[scoorpiuuss]

Though Aryana was angry with Brynden, the conversation had gone down a path she hadn’t wished for it to do. She honestly felt sorry for the things she said, feeling like it wasn’t like her to say such things, but it wasn’t often she was angry either.

The mix of emotions was just causing her to snap at Lord Brynden, and a part of her wanted to beg for his forgiveness that he had to forget about the horrible things she had said to him. As a Lady, she wasn’t supposed to say such things, and she knew that well.

“I would’ve made time for you once the war was over. I apologize, Lady Aryana.”

"You don't have to apologize,” Aryana reassured him.

“I do. I’ve upset you.”

"Yes, you have."

“I’m truly sorry, Lady Aryana. I’m sure your father will find you a match much better than me.”

Aryana genuinely looked at Brynden then. No harsh expression. They were leaving and Aryana wouldn’t be married to him, and still, she felt terrible for the things she had just said.

Perhaps he deserved it, but she didn’t enjoy upsetting people. The words she had said were clearly an attempt to hurt him, and she felt foolish standing there in front of the man she was supposed to marry and say such things to him.

The only way she would be able to forget everything that had just happened was if she knew that she had apologized for her actions, but she didn’t know how she was going to do that. How would Brynden react if she suddenly apologized? Then suddenly something just clicked inside of her and Aryana looked down at the ground.

“Forgive me, Lord Brynden. I don’t know what came over me. I am very sorry for the words I have spoken to you and I wish I hadn’t done so.”

Even if she wanted to be angry at him and yell at him for everything he had not done, Aryana couldn’t. It felt wrong to do so, and she had only managed to stay angry at him for so long, but hearing Brynden apologize had made her want to apologize too.

"Don't worry, Lady Aryana. There's no need to apologize. It doesn't matter - we'll likely never see each other again after this."

“I wish you good luck in the battles ahead. Take care of yourself Brynden.”

It didn’t matter to Aryana what happened once she left. Like Brynden said they would never see each other again. Now she could be as sweet or as mean as she wanted to be, and it wouldn’t matter, but at least she could feel better about herself knowing that she had apologized. It also felt good that she had been able to tell him how she truly felt, that she was upset with how things had been handled between them.

"You too, Aryana."

Brynden reached for her hand then, and she glanced up at him as he raised it to press a kiss against her knuckles. Aryana let him do it even if it felt strange after everything that had been said between them, and in some way, it felt nice that they could finally talk to each other just before she had to leave. Though Aryana didn’t get the chance to say anything else to Brynden.

A hand rested against her shoulder, and she looked up at her father who now stood beside her.

"It's time to go."

Aryana just nodded then and looked at Brynden one last time as she took a step back. There was something she wanted to tell him. That she hadn’t meant what she had said, and that back in Nilfgaard she had truly looked forward to being his wife, but it didn’t matter now, and Aryana didn’t say anything else as she walked away with her father. She hadn’t actually got to say goodbye to Brynden like she had with Antra, but Antra was more important to her, and she was glad that at least Antra would know that she would miss her dearly.

As they walked away towards the rest of their men and the carriage Aryana would sit in for a very long time now, she glanced behind her and looked at the Rhynes. All this time she had thought they would one day be her family and perhaps it was only now that it hit her that none of it would happen.

The most important thing though was that Sir Darron was free and the true murderer had been caught. Now they could go home without having to worry more about the Northerners. All they had to do was to prepare themselves if the battle ever reached them. Aryana looked up at her father then with a slight smile. Like always she would trust his decisions, no matter what they were and she trusted him that he would find her another Lord to marry.

 

[desti]

“Forgive me, Lord Brynden. I don’t know what came over me. I am very sorry for the words I have spoken to you and I wish I hadn’t done so.”

Aryana had every right to be angry with him. Brynden understood that perhaps he wasn’t the most emotionally available man in Aedighar. Especially in times of war, he simply didn’t have time for things like love, as harsh as that sounded. He even had to push away time spent with his siblings in order to make time for more important things. Now that Rhea was gone, Brynden regretted not spending more time with her and everyone else he cared about these past few months.

Did that include Aryana? Brynden was terribly confused when it came to her. He simply wasn’t sure if he cared about her yet, since they hadn’t actually spent that much time together as of yet. This must’ve been the first real conversation they’d had in months. Of course Brynden couldn’t actually decide if he cared for her just from that.

Still, Brynden was sure that he would’ve grown to like the girl had he had the chance to know her. Antra always talked about how sweet she was, and Brynden believed her every word. Aryana made his sister happy, which in turn made Brynden happy, so that was already one good thing about her. It was a shame that they wouldn’t get the chance to get to know each other and that Antra would lose her friend, but perhaps it was better this way. Maybe their fates were different than this, but only the Gods knew that.

Now Aryana would be rid of him. Brynden wanted to say that he’d be a good husband, but he couldn’t promise her that. He was admittedly very foolish when it came to women, he just didn’t know what to do with them. That’s why those whores were so nice to have around, they didn’t ask for much. An actual wife, though? Brynden would try to be as good of a husband as his father had been to his mother, but he wasn’t sure if he’d actually be able to do that. Aryana deserved someone better than him anyways.

"Don't worry, Lady Aryana. There's no need to apologize. It doesn't matter - we'll likely never see each other again after this."

It didn’t matter and yet Brynden found himself wanting to make a good impression to her. He wasn’t sure why, but he didn’t want her to leave and still dislike him. She had every right to, of course, but that wasn’t what he wanted to happen. Perhaps they’d meet again one day, after all. When the war was done and everything was well.

“I wish you good luck in the battles ahead. Take care of yourself Brynden.”

"You too, Aryana."

Brynden gently took her hand and leant down slightly to press his lips against her knuckles. It wasn’t a sad goodbye, though perhaps it should’ve been. He almost felt guilty for not really feeling upset about Aryana leaving him. Since Aryana didn’t shed any tears about her departure either, he didn’t really think there was a reason he should feel bad.

When Brynden heard the voice of Lord Aeron, he let go of Aryana’s hand and straightened up again. He took a step towards Antra and Willelm as he watched Aryana and Aeron walk away. When his almost-wife looked back at him, Brynden tried to give her a smile, but he was sure that it didn’t really look as confident as he had intended it to.

Instinctively, Brynden reached out and pulled Antra against his side and the girl immediately wrapped her arms around his middle. “I liked her,” Antra mumbled as they watched the Faersons preparing to leave.

“I know. I’m sorry,” Brynden said back as he kissed the top of her head.

Brynden had just lost a wife, Antra - a friend and Willelm had lost Stormwind. Many things were changing due to the Faersons departure, and none of them were good. Brynden regretted not dealing with the tensions between the East and the North earlier so that they could’ve avoided it, but he felt like he had ruined everything by taking Sir Darron captive in the first place. That was the day that they had lost it all, truly.

 

[scoorpiuuss]

Trial
Chapter XXXVIII
House Wynver
Forwards From Beneath
Wheldrake, Crownlands of Aedighar
​

The people Trevas thought he would never have to see again had found their way back into Wheldrake. It had been weeks now since the raven had arrived with the letter for Lady Carlys Hastwyck. A letter Trevas would never have imagined he would have to read. The fact that the Southerners were accusing him of the murder of Timos Hastwyck had sent him rushing straight into a Small Council meeting.

Trevas had his plans, and he knew if the Southerners would ever get their suspicions about their loved Timos, then Trevas would have to do something drastic.

One person would have to pay for what Trevas had done, and it wouldn’t be him. There were only two people who knew the truth. The Grand Maester and Katlyn. If Katlyn dared to open her mouth around the Hastwycks, he would lose it. That woman had caused enough trouble in his life, and Trevas would have to push her down into the dark for his own crimes.

At first, he was worried that the Small Council wouldn’t believe him when he stated that he had no idea what had happened to Timos Hastwyck, but with the Grand Maester on his side who whispered lies into their ears, it was almost too easy.

They were pointing their fingers at Katlyn, discussing the reasons why they believed it was her while Trevas sat there filled with amusement at how stupid his own men were. There would be a trial though, and Trevas had to make sure he was in a safe place where everyone would accuse Katlyn.

Katlyn deserved it after the Grand Maester had shed light onto the truth about her. Trevas had been furious, and he felt betrayed. As if Katlyn hadn’t been a horrible wife to him already, she had also been requesting moon tea behind his back. She must have been doing it for years since she hadn’t been with child after they had Ashara together. Trevas had wanted to go straight to her then and yelled at her, but instead, he remembered his plan.

If the plan worked, then Katlyn would lose her head, and Trevas would enjoy that sight. She deserved it. Trevas couldn’t believe that she'd dared to speak to him about being a horrible husband while drinking moon tea behind his back. At least he had tried to give her more children for them to love.

Then as if things couldn’t get more chaotic. The news of the Northerner's rebellion had finally reached Trevas, and he now had a war ahead of him that he would have to plan and strategize. He had the men. A whole army of Knights who were ready to fight for him, but brining the battle to Wheldrake would be foolish of him.

They had to act soon, but Trevas would have to deal with the Hastwycks and Katlyn first before he could do anything to protect himself and his two daughters.

A war wasn’t exactly what Trevas had expected, but he knew the Northerners were stubborn people and that it would be highly unlikely for them to bend the knee to him after everything he had done. It made him frustrated to think about because he knew Katlyn would be to no use anymore, and he had no idea what he would do with Elaria and Ashara. His family was crumbling in front of his eyes, not being able to secure their throne.

Even with the Hastwycks coming they would be useless.

Trevas’ only hope was that the trial would be successful and Katlyn would sit there with the crime on her shoulders, and they would all watch as her head left her body. He knew he would have to remarry soon after that. If Katlyn got the blame, then no one would be suspicious of that. He needed a wife on his side who could give him an heir to put on the throne safely, but those plans he hadn’t shared with anyone yet.

Perhaps they thought he wouldn’t remarry, and he would want to keep it that way until that day came.

Trevas had seen the Hastwycks from his window when they closed up to the castle. He would greet them like he had the last time they were there. There was no point in showing that he was angry with them or despised them. Then they would only grow more suspicious of him being the true murderer of Timos, which he didn’t want.

It was rather silent in the castle though there would be a trial. Trevas imagined that his men were getting prepared to accuse the Queen.

For some that wouldn’t be easy. Katlyn wasn’t exactly hated amongst the people, but Trevas had changed that overnight after the meeting he’d had with the Small Council. Though there were probably still a few people who thought fondly of her. Trevas didn’t care as long as he could sit safely on the throne and not have to worry about getting any fingers or evidence pointed against him.

Trevas stepped into the rather large courtyard, watching as the horses trotted in and stable boys rushed to catch them. His eyes were set on the carriage which was the same one that had left Wheldrake many months ago.

There was a tight smile tugging at his lips once he saw the Hastwycks. He imagined it would be quite surprising for them to see him there, but he wanted to give them the idea that he was happy to see them even though the circumstances would have made them expect otherwise. Trevas wasn’t alone though. There were guards around who watched over him, but none of his family members were there with him.

“Lady Carlys. It’s a pleasure to see you here, even under these horrible circumstances,” Trevas said as he stepped towards her, “I can’t express enough how deeply sorry I am that it has come to this. You and your lovely daughter must be exhausted. If there’s anything I can do to make your stay here more comfortable I don’t want you to be afraid to ask.”

 

[desti]

If Carlys could never set her foot in Wheldrake again, she would be very happy. It was connected with such painful memories, nightmares that had haunted her for many moons now. Though Carlys kept up appearances and tried to move on, Timos’ death still followed her day and night. She feared his ghost would always be next to her, a grim reminder that she wasn’t able to protect her children.

Though Carlys had never been a faithful servant to the Gods, she found herself praying more than ever before after Timos’ death. She prayed for his soul, she prayed for Leanah and she prayed for Santrella. There were dark times ahead and everyone could see that, and a little faith wouldn’t hurt.

Yet the Gods seemed to be against her. First, they took Benam from her, then Timos and then Leanah almost perished as well. Carlys still wondered what would’ve happened to her sweet daughter if Sir Arthor Overton hadn’t been there for her. The guilty guards had disappeared from her household a few days later, thanks to the knight, but Carlys still felt uneasy. She thought that taking care of those that had been behind the attack against Leanah would help, but it hadn’t.

What had she done that hurt the Gods so badly? They had turned against her, and she tried to get their graces back by praying in the Sept almost every other day. Perhaps that had done the trick, now that Carlys thought about it. Shortly after the attack on Leanah, things were starting to make sense again.

Sir Arthor Overton and Elias Sawled had done some work behind her back. Maybe Carlys should’ve been angry at them for getting into business that wasn’t theirs, but she found herself glad at their news. Timos death had always felt wrong to her. Maybe that was why she couldn’t get over it?

The two men she respected greatly informed her of their suspicions that Timos’ death was foul play. It wasn’t hard for Carlys to agree with them. What they brought forwards was convincing. Or perhaps Carlys just wanted to believe it. Either way, the next day the Maester sent a letter to Wheldrake, accusing the King of this horrible crime. A letter soon arrived back, ensuring Lady Carlys that the matter was taken seriously and that they were expected to come to Wheldrake to attend the trial.

Another letter had come shortly before and it spoke of the grave news from the North. Lady Carlys had carefully created an alliance between the South and the North and finally she’d be of use. Initially, she suspected that perhaps they’d only reach out for help once winter came and their food would run low, but no.

Lord Brynden Rhyne’s war strategist had been murdered and they needed a replacement. Carlys had mentioned her household before and must’ve said Elias’ name somewhere. Though it worried her to send the man off into the heat of war, she knew that Elias would be up for the challenge. It’d be hard for him to leave, but it was for the greater good. It was a shame about the timing, Carlys would’ve liked him to testify against the Wynvers at court, since his way of speech was very convincing.

It was a few weeks after that when House Hastwyck finally started the travel to Wheldrake. The last time, it had been such a happy occasion. It pained Carlys too much to think about it, so she focused on the present, instead of the past.

Lady Carlys decided that it would look bad if they were to take too many men with them. They only took as many as were necessary for their safety. Lady Carlys, Leanah and Sir Arthor rode in the front of the caravan. She’d even taken the Maester with them this time, just in case he’d be needed as well.

There was no doubt that this was incredibly risky. One wrong thing and they’d all get murdered for treason, that was sure. Lady Carlys understood that, but at the same time she felt the risk was worth it because this was her son’s death in question. He had just been a boy, murdered on his wedding day. That couldn’t go unpunished and she wouldn’t let it.

This time, Lady Carlys didn’t think Wheldrake looked beautiful. Now it looked cold and unwelcoming to her, and the sea looked as though it would go past its shore at any moment and take the Southerners into its depths. Lady Carlys felt a shiver run down her spine and she closed the curtains of the carriage she was in. The only thing that calmed her was that Timos would finally get the justice he deserved.

Much to her surprise, the first person she saw when stepping out of the carriage was the man she had accused of murdering her son. Carlys likely couldn’t hide the dislike she held for King Trevas as he walked towards her. Almost instinctively, she stepped over to stand in front of Leanah while Sir Arthor Overton took his place next to Carlys.

“Lady Carlys. It’s a pleasure to see you here, even under these horrible circumstances. I can’t express enough how deeply sorry I am that it has come to this. You and your lovely daughter must be exhausted. If there’s anything I can do to make your stay here more comfortable I don’t want you to be afraid to ask.”

His words were sweet poison, if anything. Carlys watched him and yet still didn’t give him even a small smile. How could she?

“Your Grace,” Lady Carlys said coldly, “we have more important things to worry about than comfort. We have come here to seek justice for my son.”

"I understand. I hope we can settle this and find out the truth about these accusations. I am still deeply sorry for your loss Lady Carlys, and I hope you don't think otherwise."

“Of course. I hope you never suffer the loss of a child. It’s the sort of pain I couldn’t even describe to you,” Lady Carlys paused, “You must excuse me, I’m rather confused as to why you’re here, not locked away somewhere. I believe I made it very clear towards whom I was making accusations of.”

"You must understand that I am just as shocked as you are by these accusations. I am happy to prove my innocence to you Lady Carlys, but if you believe otherwise I suggest waiting until the trial starts to make any remarks."

Carlys found herself smiling at the absurdity of the situation. She was confident that it was King Trevas behind it and he must’ve known her thoughts as well. Yet, he stood here and lied so sweetly to her. It was rather pathetic, really. Carlys saw through his lies, but she feared that others would not.

“Forgive me my words, Your Grace,” Lady Carlys said, “I’m sure the truth will show in the coming days."