who: @ofgoldengrove where: the council chamber, following mathis rowan’s first introduction back to the council of the reach. the room was empty now, and the two men remained sat within the great council chamber.
the reactions had been incredibly mixed; and yet if there was one thing that seemed to sear into the mind of the king, it was the incredible silence. so rare was it for silence to fall upon the personalities who sat on the reach council table, and yet, it felt as though they could hear their own hearts beating. he had not realised that he was holding the breath in his chest until he felt as though he were going to burst, and those in the room would not deny the fact that ocean hues glazed over in a sense of shock. that this was reality.
though the matter had been quietly discussed with tirius, the possibility of it being true, he had been sure - so sure, it was false. so sure it would be another test some cruel figure in the sky had decided to throw in his path. and the king of the reach had hugged mathis rowan as though it was the last time he could - only, it now felt like the first time. it had been months since most had seen such a break in his demeanour, had seen a lively spirit that wore no crown; they saw it then. as emotional and volatile as it was.
was this not cruel? they now sat in somewhat comfortable silence as the last individual left the room, closing the door behind them; and all cedric could help wondering was why whatever gods the others seemed to have so much faith and love for would ever do such a thing. what sort of a test was this? for mathis rowan, for the rowans themselves, for all of those who had loved and mourned him. it was not a king who had stood before them those months ago to report his death, his eyes stricken and red with grief; he had made no attempts to hide the tears he had shed.
“do you want a drink?”
the death of mathis rowan had made him so utterly human. it had made him feel so incredibly human, and vulernable, and cut open. he thought it would hurt less if he was cut open a hundred times over, for he did not only think of what he had done, but he thought of what he could have had done. he thought of what should have been. made him feel as though his very side had been ripped open, as though someone, some presence, had been ripped from his side.
and now, the life behind the eyes of mathis rowan made him feel something he was not entirely sure what to call. made him feel as though his heart would burst out of his chest, and stop, all at once. as though he had everybody and had nobody, all at once. for his death, the news of the corpse, was enough to set fire to whatever was left within him; whatever sense of morality wished for him to not carry the name of kinslayer. for regardless of it all, cedric tyrell had loved his brother. he wondered why it was their family needed to rip itself apart, just as the targaryens had done. was it their punishment for not following in their oath?
“...didn’t think i’d ever ask you that again.” and there was a laugh that came from him. it was shaky. he rested his hand on his cheek, looking upon his best friend. he truly was sat there. he was there. seven fucking hells.
what was it that mathis was even looking upon now? who was it? it was mathis who knew best how much cedric had not wanted to kill his only brother. it was mathis rowan who knew why cedric had resisted, time and time again. it was mathis rowan who lost the love his life because of it. it was cedric who lost his true brother because of it. so why did it still feel as though his chest was ready to cave in?