𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 . . . the offices of the hand of the king , staerdale , new valyria . 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 . . . ishan velaryon ( @godspecd ) . 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 . . . flashback to around two months ago , after the death of senya tyrell née rowan but before the northern declaration .
though the narrow path up to the castle had been widened by order of the king, she had not felt comfortable with the idea of sitting astride a mule upon such a precarious ledge, no matter if the creature had made a hundred trips up and down without throwing someone off their back, so the only other option was to be brought up by a pulley system, dumped into a wide basket as though she were nothing but a sack of potatoes. ( the worker that had helped her into the basket had given her a considering glance and attempted to reassure her that seeing as she likely weighed less than ten sacks of potatoes, the journey should be smooth and quick. seda had not bothered to thank the man for the pitiful attempt. ) the king had not cared to allow her to rest or clean off, however, calling a meeting of the small council to discuss the invitations that were soon to fly across the kingdom to announce the completion of staerdale and the renaming of the region that had once been known as the vale of arryn. with her back aching from the unsteady trip up to the castle, she had sharply cautioned against the idea of inviting so many people of uncertain loyalties to gather beneath one roof but like her warnings over the wedding festivities, her concerns had been dismissed with a short jibe to do her job or find another more capable to fill her spot.
blood stained the back of her teeth as the inside of her cheek was bitten, hard enough that the taste of copper had filled her mouth as the council was dismissed ─ catching the glance that ishan had extended to her over the table, she had remained behind, rubbing at the back of her neck as the last of the room emptied, leaving them alone in his office. ❝ what was that look for ? you cannot mean to reprimand me for being understandably short with the king. i've had an exhausting trip up and the last time we gathered all of westeros under one roof, people died, though the king seems to have forgotten. ❞ passionate words were paused as she looked up, remembering who she was talking to and the lost he had suffered that evening. spite soured into regret in her mouth and she reached one hand across the table to clumsily grab his fingers, brows furrowed with remorse. ❝ forgive me ... forgive me, ishan. it has been a long day. ❞