where: the godswood
when: early morning
with: @icekraken
Excited. There was no other way to explain it: it was dark, morbid, but it was true. When news hit of Rhaella's death, the funerals announcement, Beth's body was practically vibrating from the uncontainable joy that radiated through every inch of her body, head to toe. Morbid, yes, for her to be so excited for the death of someone so important, but it was something she couldn't fight. Throughout her full life, she had dreamed countless dreams of leaving Winterfell, feeling the warmth on her skin for more than a second, seeing all the things that could grow where the earth never went cold, where nothing died. She longed to see the sands of Dorne, but her father had no interest in leaving, and until now, she had no reason either. Sure, Kings Landing was not the lavish warmth of Dorne, nor would it have the beautiful, passionate Dornishmen, but it was something. It was somewhere - whether love laid there or not, she was yet to find out, but eager to do so she was.
It wasn't to say the news of the woman's death made her happy, because that part made her quite sad. Death always did: Beth felt everything so strongly; most of the time, it was for the worst. When those around her thought sadness, Beth felt it like an unbearable weight pushing her on the ground, in the dirt. When it became bad enough, she feared she would die. Threw her back into time when her mother had passed, she still felt her father's pain sometimes. It was lighter now though - it was a proud pain her father had, every time he looked upon her, he would smile a sad, melancholic thing it was. She reminded him of her, she knew that because he told her such all the time. Sometimes she loved it, found comfort in that, other times, she hated it.
No matter what, though, the excitement pooled in her veins, and eventually, it was the only thing pushing her to carry on. It was unbearably early when she arrived in Kings Landing, the sun not even peaking in the sky. With no idea what to do, where to go, an always spiritual young Cassel found herself wandering until she stood in the Godswood. It was not the same as it was in Winterfell, then again, nothing anywhere ever would be. Instead of looking at the delicate white bark and the beautiful, magical red leaves, Beth was gazing out over a river. She knew it was because the Red Keep hadn't been as ancient as all the other castles, as old as Winterfell.
In that lonely moment, overlooking the grey water, Beth let the homesick settle in her bones, let herself picture the calming feeling of being in the Godswood out home, how she could almost feel her mother sitting with her beneath the tree. And in that one, lonely moment, Beth missed Winterfell, overlooking the beauty that was traveling, the excitement she had to sightsee. Nothing but a child in unfamiliar territory, Beth lost the comfort of her mother, the warmth of familiarity. She knew no one here, she realized, and began to pray someone who she actually knew would tumble into her in the foreign city.
Gods tilted their head in the universe for a second, contemplating if the girl deserved to be as sad as she felt for that brief second, pondering the anxiety they were causing: was it necessary? The gentle eyes turned to find was a quick answer to Beth that whatever Gods existed out there, heard her prayers, and answered them. Ocean blues guide up to greet the familiar gaze of a friend; maybe foe, but definitely not all at once. A rush of relief washed over her so strong she could feel the current of the grey waters below; lucky for her, the one the Gods sent to her was bound to be good at handling murky seas.
"Theon," His name is but a laugh on pink lips, body going lax in the company of a friend. She felt no danger, no intimidation. Perhaps when they were younger, she felt bursts of intimidation: Theon was an extremely skilled man, even when he was nothing but the baby Kraken. She had envied him, back then, for his abilities too. Now she knew she could compare herself to him, and it wouldn't be laughable. Skill-wise, they stood even ground, and perhaps that's what stripped away the awkward autonomous actions that Beth usually had. As a child, she viewed him as a boy who could quickly become a man of her interest, as a woman, she regarded him a man worthy of her respect, a good man worthy of trust. A good component. "I feared I wouldn't know anyone here. You truly are a sight for sore eyes." Her feet carried her slightly forward, away from the water, and closer to where the man stood. "I had no idea you would be here, too."
