( A song of sorrow that so soon falls on deaf ears, and must leave Elrond to listen to it alone. Perhaps its shared with Corlys and Rhaenys most, for it touches them deepest but it is a wonder at how callousness festers on these shores and funerals are never simply just about that. The interweaving of politics never stops — and she cannot be sure if there are those here that had even waited for Laena to sink to the bottom of the sea before the intrigue returned. Her own mother's pyre had felt much the same — the question of succession written in between the solemn silence.
Driftmark was similar, in some way — there was still Laenor, to inherit Corlys' seat, but he had no heirs (preferences and proclivities a poorly kept secret, even if she had done her best to cover for him when he'd asked). So then the question became: would Driftmark then be succeeded by Daemon's daughters? It shouldn't be a question, if Rhaenyra would take the throne as first Queen. But, all to point: funerals for the court were never simply funerals, and the song of sorrow that might ring so true in Elrond's ears is still mostly lost.
And, in that, it was easy to feel adrift. One must wonder, if she is made softer in the company of her husband, to be so torn.
But, where Elrond might have been politely trying not to eavesdrop on her conversation with her uncle, Rhaenyra hadn't missed the way Otto's attention lingered on them across the battlements. Nor Alicent's, or Cole's and while she wished for Elrond to be proven right in the mending of her childhood friendship, she had to wonder if such a hope would be enough after the years at quiet odds. The smallest hurts can fester if left un-soothed. Perhaps after they return...
But there are other matters to concern herself with now, too — the journey ahead will need to be a careful one. They will arrive far faster than they would on boat, that is true. And Rhaenyra had taken to flying Syrax to and around Dragonstone, to ensure a lasting endurance of an otherwise over-spoiled she-dragon. Had ensured she knew Elrond by sent and sight (and worried, somewhat, how he would fare on his first journey on dragon-back). Had asked the keepers on what preparations needed to be made, and even Daemon had a few short words of advice, given the extensive time spent in flight. But — it would be the longest time she would be away from the keep. Ample time for things to go awry, for those who wished to undermine her claim to make their moves undeterred. Viserys had grown all the more weary as of late (and with all that, his insistence on her own heirs was harder to navigate).
Elrond's hand on hers is a comforting warmth. As are his words, and it has become no less surprising to hear such encouragement so openly. Her nose wrinkles, affair having put her in a particularly cloudy mood. ) And yet, I find myself restless.
( Thumb runs along the top of his hand — a fidget taking place of twisting at her hands and rings — as they walk back inside the keep. Pointedly pretending not to see Otto drag a very drunk Aegon back inside. ) We should fly on Syrax to Dragonstone early on the morrow. ( besides, better a short flight to acquaint her boon companion and husband first. ) Finish our preparations there. The Keepers are more fit to assist, and it brings us closer to the open sea.
( The prospect of their journey is an anxious one as much as it is an exciting one; with the thought of politics removed, there is still a childish thrill to the thought. That finally, finally she gets to share the skies with someone dear, and see the open world far beyond what she could have ever hoped for. It might be the only thought that serves to ease the tension from her brow, as she looks up to him, a tick of a smile. ) Are you looking forward to returning home?
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Driftmark was similar, in some way — there was still Laenor, to inherit Corlys' seat, but he had no heirs (preferences and proclivities a poorly kept secret, even if she had done her best to cover for him when he'd asked). So then the question became: would Driftmark then be succeeded by Daemon's daughters? It shouldn't be a question, if Rhaenyra would take the throne as first Queen. But, all to point: funerals for the court were never simply funerals, and the song of sorrow that might ring so true in Elrond's ears is still mostly lost.
And, in that, it was easy to feel adrift. One must wonder, if she is made softer in the company of her husband, to be so torn.
But, where Elrond might have been politely trying not to eavesdrop on her conversation with her uncle, Rhaenyra hadn't missed the way Otto's attention lingered on them across the battlements. Nor Alicent's, or Cole's and while she wished for Elrond to be proven right in the mending of her childhood friendship, she had to wonder if such a hope would be enough after the years at quiet odds. The smallest hurts can fester if left un-soothed. Perhaps after they return...
But there are other matters to concern herself with now, too — the journey ahead will need to be a careful one. They will arrive far faster than they would on boat, that is true. And Rhaenyra had taken to flying Syrax to and around Dragonstone, to ensure a lasting endurance of an otherwise over-spoiled she-dragon. Had ensured she knew Elrond by sent and sight (and worried, somewhat, how he would fare on his first journey on dragon-back). Had asked the keepers on what preparations needed to be made, and even Daemon had a few short words of advice, given the extensive time spent in flight. But — it would be the longest time she would be away from the keep. Ample time for things to go awry, for those who wished to undermine her claim to make their moves undeterred. Viserys had grown all the more weary as of late (and with all that, his insistence on her own heirs was harder to navigate).
Elrond's hand on hers is a comforting warmth. As are his words, and it has become no less surprising to hear such encouragement so openly. Her nose wrinkles, affair having put her in a particularly cloudy mood. ) And yet, I find myself restless.
( Thumb runs along the top of his hand — a fidget taking place of twisting at her hands and rings — as they walk back inside the keep. Pointedly pretending not to see Otto drag a very drunk Aegon back inside. ) We should fly on Syrax to Dragonstone early on the morrow. ( besides, better a short flight to acquaint her boon companion and husband first. ) Finish our preparations there. The Keepers are more fit to assist, and it brings us closer to the open sea.
( The prospect of their journey is an anxious one as much as it is an exciting one; with the thought of politics removed, there is still a childish thrill to the thought. That finally, finally she gets to share the skies with someone dear, and see the open world far beyond what she could have ever hoped for. It might be the only thought that serves to ease the tension from her brow, as she looks up to him, a tick of a smile. ) Are you looking forward to returning home?