PROMPT : ' if you look , it will be your death . ’ TAGGING : @gildedheirs
eliar is not the type to question what makes sense , so long as it does not confine him ; while the discovery of who was behind the attack did not match his earlier assumptions , he’s fine to go along with it — the anxiety that had risen inside him was beginning to pass , though anger and restlessness lingered . they won’t let him near the ironborn conspirators ( likely for the best ) , and now he feels caught in limbo . he’d told his sister he’d stay , and intended to do so even if she told he did not need to . so he will stay but what to do while he’s here ? it doesn’t help that more and more of the guests begin to depart , those not involved in the council at least . as each one leaves , it feels like the walls get a little bit tighter ; perhaps there’s some count of souls the castle needs to keep within its walls , and perhaps eliar would be too late and the doors would close on him .
thus , he’s clearly ill at ease , and wanders through the halls to find something to occupy him . finding quentin’s rooms was bound to happen eventually , either to bother the other or to rope him into something . in his defense , he does knock . he just doesn’t wait much after that , and suddenly he’s standing the doorway being scolded . ‘ at who’s hands , exactly ? ’ he asks , busying himself with whatever he finds on a bookcase , turning his back to quentin . ‘ not yours , surely . ’