#audacioussly

[altaraed]

the  silent  sisters  had  been  the  ones  to  prepare  the  body  but  vaela  had  requested  a  moment  after  their  work  was  done  to  preside  over  some  prayers  for  the  princess  regent,  accompanied  by  the  dragon  keepers  that  haunted  the  dark  corners  of  the  dragon  pit  ─  she  was  certain  that  word  would  reach  the  ear  of  the  lord  hand  sooner  rather  than  later,  painting  her  as  some  pagan  priestess  still  clinging  to  the  ways  of  old  valyria,  but  while  many  might  have  forgotten  that  the  princess  regent  had  been  of  the  blood  of  the  dragon,  vaela  had  not  and  she  found  it  a  sore  oversight  that  nothing  had  been  done  to  return  viserra  targaryen  to  the  ancestors.  the  humming  lilting  of  high  valyrian  echoed  through  the  sept  as  she  whispered  prayers  of  gratitude  and  blessing,  followed  by  wishes  of  peace  and  rest,  and  she  ended  it  with  a  soft  promise  of  vengeance,  whispered  against  her  aunt's  cold  forehead.  long  after  the  dragon  keepers  and  well  wishers  had  left,  vaela  remained,  seated  before  the  statue  of  the  stranger,  picking  at  the  bits  of  dried  skin  along  her  nailbeds.  the  humidity  of  dragonstone,  coupled  with  the  sulphurous  air,  did  little  for  her  skin  and  her  fingers  were  often  left  bleeding  after  she  had  pulled  at  the  hangnails.  the  shrouded  figure  of  death  haunted  her,  had  been  haunting  her  since  she  was  a  child  but  with  so  few  dragons  left,  she  worried  that  death  would  soon  come  for  those  she  loved,  the  damning  sickle  carried  by  her  own  hand.  lifting  a  finger  to  her  mouth,  she  tugged  at  the  irritating  piece  of  skin,  unaware  that  another  had  joined  her  in  quiet  contemplation.

closed    starter    for    ...    olynna  tully  @audacioussly  .

[vaeles]

𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧  ...  day  three,  early  evening      𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞  …  outside  the  dragonpit      𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡  …  olynna  (  @audacioussly  )

she is blood and jaw,      all accounts of her written in scar and sweat.      and he has led her to the kindling      —      men and women alike on the fields of killing,      their silhouettes swallowed like fire-black trees well into night.      her temperament had never been benign,      but she is changed further by war.      they both are.      her black wings stretch and spread the expanse of several bodies,      a dragonkeeper’s lower half strewn across her taloned feet.      a string of entrails dangle from her honed teeth,      the wet rope of them glistening in the light.      several men recoil,      a flank of greaves retreating as they move to avoid the glass of her eye.      but the motion draws upon her ire,      and a fire roils within her throat.      the swing of her neck,      however,      is stalled by the arrival of another.

sgaeyl pins the lady tully in the direct line of her peril,      the whole of her regard shifting alongside the mass of her.      with a cavernous growl,      her cranium dips low.      once more her maw begins to part,      the white-hot flame churning,      before vaeles slips into sight.     they are not oft apart,      and she must have come looking      —      the duration of lymond’s festivities shrouding her in a mother’s worry.      and he did not want her near,      the fate of his late brother’s dragon,      valarr,      weighing heavy on his mind.      it is with skillful ease that he steals olynna from the dragon’s mortal gape,      sweeping her from death to the flush line of his spine;      pressed close enough to discern the sheen of sweat upon the nape from his sprint.      his voice,      granitic,      rises above all else.      ‘ rȳbās. ’      sgaeyl snorts,      her agitation expelled in a rush of steam.      ‘ rȳbās. ’      she begins to mollify,      assuaged by his presence,      the rock-salt gravel of his tone exchanged for something sonorous,      deep and rich like exquisite dark leather as high valyrian words pass betwixt beast and man.      his hand slides along the edge of her stygian-scaled jaw,      the action rewarding him with an agreeable chuff as sentiments roll from the tongue.      and pacified,      her rider speaks a final command.      ‘ sōvēs. ’      the leaden beat of her wings cows forth a squall.      vaeles strengthens his hold of olynna’s waist,      his arm not loosing from its firm loom until sgaeyl has ascended from the keep.