Edmund Blair Leighton, 1908)
In the years since, they had never spoken of what happened in the Godswood when she found him with his dagger, but she knew he must think about it constantly. That night changed his life forever. She would never forget the sight of him kneeling in the moonlight. At first she thought he was praying. When she saw the steel in his hand, panic gripped her and she called out to him. After years of not being heard she was surprised when he looked up. Her voice in the darkness saved his life that night. If she had been even a half minute later she would have come upon his blood spilt on the grass and heard his dying words.
Instead, she was there to take his hand and pull him back from the darkness threatening to consume him. She pried his dagger from his tight grip and took his shaking bloody hands in hers. She did not flinch away from Ser Joffrey’s blood even when it was staining her hands as well. When he was done crying she gently wiped away his tears like she did for her children. She knelt in the wet grass with him without a care for her fine dress and spoke to him softly of second chances and forgiveness. After everything he confessed to her, all she knew he had done, he could not believe she found it in her heart to forgive him. But she did so without hesitation. He had thought himself completely lost but she looked upon him and somehow saw a man worth saving. That was the first time they prayed together. They prayed to The Father for the strength to push forward and when they were done, he put away his tears and swore himself into her service.
“I will shield your back and keep your counsel and give my life for yours if need be. I swear it by the old gods and the new.”
“I vow that you shall always have a place by my hearth and meat and mead at my table. And I pledge to ask no service of you that might bring you dishonor. I swear it by the old gods and the new.”
It was very difficult to protect him from House Velaryon in the aftermath. Ser Laenor wanted his head, others called for The Wall. Luckily, Viserys had fallen deeply unwell at the wedding and was not in any state to interfere while she scrambled to save Ser Criston’s life. Commander Westerling tried to stop her from taking him into her service but she was the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms and he could not deny her when King Viserys was not there to order him otherwise. It was the first time she had ever been able to wield her crown effectively towards her own ends.
After speaking with Westerling, she went to see her husband. He was barely conscious from the milk of the poppy and in a great deal of pain. It was horrible to see him in such a state. He might not be the man she would have chosen for herself but he was still the man she swore herself to. She promised she would help him through his illness and she had meant it. She sent Maester Orwyle on an errand and tended to Viserys like a loving wife was supposed to, gently changing his bandages and calming any agitation. Though he was barely conscious he seemed happy to see her and relieved to have her comfort. She gently held his blackened hand and told him everything would be alright. When he had a moment of clarity she seized the opportunity to sway him to mercy. He need not worry, Princess Rhaenyra was safe because of Ser Criston Cole. Ser Joffrey Lonmouth had made threats against her and their Kingsguard had done his job, albeit more brutally than was necessary.
“Do not punish a loyal knight, Viserys. Give him to me to keep our children safe and he will be far from House Velaryon.” She whispered to him. Viserys mumbled in agreement, far too weak to voice a different opinion. She thanked him for his understanding, recalled Maester Orwyle, and quickly left to secure Ser Criston’s safety before Ser Laenor could find him.
But Ser Laenor was already stalking the hallways waiting for Ser Criston to show his face. A confrontation between them could not be allowed. Ser Laenor was a dragon rider and revered warrior but he would not stand against a knight as skilled as Ser Criston. If Cole killed Laenor defending himself from his revenge she would not be able to save him from House Velaryon.
“Where is he?” She had never seen him look so discomposed. He was furious, eyes red and raw from his tears. He had cleaned the blood from his face but there was still some under his chin and on his fine clothing. She might have pretended she did not know what he was talking about, a method that helped her deal with Prince Daemon when he had his fun needling her with his distasteful jokes, but Laenor was not playing games.
“Ser Laenor, congratulations on your…”
“Where is Ser Criston Cole?” He nearly shouted. “I know you know. Westerling said as much.” He gestured at the blood on her dress. “Where is he?!”
“Ser Joffrey threatened the princess in front of a Kingsguard, what did he think would happen?” She replied, trying to sound queenly.
“Ser Joffrey would not do that, I know him!” He said furiously.
“Yes, I know how well you know him.” She retorted quietly, tactfully following his lead and not using the past tense. You knew him. “If you drag Ser Criston into a duel or trial much will come to light your father wants hidden.”
“Are you threatening me?” He was hoping for an excuse to escalate but she would not let him. She kept her voice lower than his and spoke slowly and gently.
“I am telling you that pursuing revenge for your friend will bring you only trouble of your own making. Ser Joffrey is gone. He would not want you to bring yourself more pain by laying out all of your family’s secrets to the court.”
“You don’t know what he would want.” He hissed.
“I know that moving forward and facing your duty is more honorable than seeking revenge. Now is a time to make your family stronger, not weaker. You should go and tend to your new wife. My stepdaughter is surely waiting for you.” For a moment he looked bitterly hopeless at the thought of his marriage bed. She briefly felt a twinge of pity for him. She knew that feeling of sickening dread and resignation all too well.
“This is not over.” He glared at her. “Ser Criston Cole will pay for this.”
“Good night, Ser Laenor.” She forced the conversation to a close and politely took her leave, careful not to walk too quickly. She needed to look confident but her heart was hammering in her chest. She took the long way back to her chambers in case he thought to follow her.
“Ser Laenor is looking for you.” His face remained ashen, miserable, guilty and disgusted with himself but he did not look surprised.
“I should go and face him…”
“No.” She said at once. “Give it time. At least till tomorrow, he isn’t thinking straight. Let Rhaenyra comfort him first.” He stiffened at the mention of the princess but nodded. She sighed.
“It seems we are both meant to spend our lives here in Kings Landing with no other possible path laid ahead, as much as we might wish otherwise.” she said carefully. “We both are also in need of allies. I can protect you from Ser Laenor and House Velaryon and you can protect me and my children from…everything else.”
“Everything else?” She hesitated a moment but pushed forward. An honest conversation was what was needed here. It was passed due. She had to be clear in what she needed from him. She could not muddy the waters by speaking too cryptically. She kept her voice low, in case there was someone listening in the walls.
“You trusted me with the truth and I will do the same,” she said quietly but frankly and took a step closer. He shifted uncomfortably. “Prince Daemon and Princess Rhaenyra will one day turn their sights on my children and they will spill their blood to secure the throne. Mine and my fathers as well for good measure. I know that now. They have grown to bitterly hate us. I have no one to help me stop this from happening. I may wear a crown but my influence here is limited, my father is banished and my husband...my husband is willfully blind to the conflict in our family. Only you have defeated Daemon in combat, I fear only you can help us.”
“I am not worthy of your confidence, your grace. I have done…terrible things…why would you trust me with your children?” He nervously wiped his palm on his trousers subconsciously, as if Ser Joffrey’s blood still stained his hands.
“It is only decent people who feel shame, Ser Criston. Only a penitent heart deserves forgiveness. Do you think Rhaenyra regrets anything that she does? Do you think she has shed a single tear for the hurt she has caused?”
“Probably not.” She shook her head in agreement.
“Sometimes I think that must be an easier way to live but you and I are not made that way. I am grateful for that. And I would be grateful to have you in my household. When you told me the truth last week you proved yourself a better man than you believe yourself to be. We all make mistakes but those missteps do not need to define us if we strive to be better.”
“Thank you, your grace.” He still looked sad. She hesitated but then went and slowly sat where she had when he confessed to her. He stood before her and did not sit beside her again.
“I used to think my friendship with Rhaenyra would be enough to protect me and my family.” She said gently. “She was my closest friend, for years and years. I thought she always would be. But we have both seen what friendship means to her. We should have seen it sooner, before she could hurt us. But now we know the truth; we are not important to her. If we are both to survive here we need to protect ourselves and each other.” He nodded miserably. “When you swore yourself to me you did not know what you were stepping into, I apologize for that but my family sorely needs you and your sword.” He nodded again then knelt before her.
“My sword is yours, your grace.”
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