“ DISAGREEABLE. ” HE ECHOES HER WORD WITH ARCHED BROWS, the tone in his voice mockingly impressed, while Maron quietly nods to himself. “ quite the big word for someone so small. ” a grin follows, audacious but laced with nothing but love, in the way only an older brother could fondly grin at a younger sister or something as close to that, as possible. early morning sunlight shines into their makeshift little hideout ; the broken skiff, overturned by the tide and partially in shambles, still doing its duty as a seating arrangement that they have upholstered and laid out with cushions, and around them is nothing but the comfortable privacy of a dry, warm cave, eaten into the cliffs below the castle. all they see is sand and candles, all they hear are their own voices and the quiet sound of the sea lapping at the shoreline reaching a little inside their nest. nobody else knows about this place. Maron had found it three years into his stay at Dragonstone and, steadily, whenever he could steal away from his duties, turned it into his very own getaway. a place nobody, not Ser Axell, nor Selyse could find. Shireen, he had found a few years later, needed a space like that, too. removed from her mother’s over-cautious, prying eyes ; a place where they could meet. talk, play, envision a future brighter than the present surrounding them. as young people do, occasionally . . .
he shifts a little, the broad back comfortably leaning against the warm rock, and closes the book she had diligently laid down in his lap a few minutes prior. words and stories have little appeal for him right now, and yes, he may have been a tad disagreeable, borderlining grumpy, when he had waved away any suggestion by her for things to do. his mind is elsewhere.
his twentieth nameday had come and gone ; a man grown, heir to one of the five biggest houses of Westeros, and yet he is removed from the world. removed from everything a man his age should have accomplished by now a home, a wife, children, perhaps trapped instead in a prison they call mercy, that he cannot seem to escape. his fingers idly pick at the worn-out leather binding of the book, careful not to damage it so Shireen wouldn’t scold him for that. she’ll be trapped, too, he thinks, by an overbearing mother and a heartless sickness. “ did you know your father is going back to King’s Landing in a fortnight? council meetings, all that. he wants me to come with him. ” he had already accompanied Stannis once, two years ago, and found that he hated the capital. but if Stannis ( or rather Selyse ) wanted him to go, he had no choice. “ think you can find someone else to tell your dragon tales to for a while then? ” he gently pokes her side, once again smiling that loving smile he reserves for her and her only.
༺❃༻ SHIREEN'S LITTLE FINGERS CLOSE AROUND A PRETTY curved seashell, tinted a fine shade of pearl and lavender, and then CHUCKS it with surprising force to her ironborn brother. it bounces ineffectively off of his chest, landing with scarcely a thud upon his lap. but i got him square in the chest. that is something. ❝ call me little again, lord maron, and i shall see myself out. and you'd be most lonely without my company, i expect, ❞ shireen says haughtily. all bluff, of course. shireen could never depart from her dear brother and their little hidden spot, their sanctuary away from the prying eyes of her mother, father, and all others who would disapprove . . . who'd see them isolated, instead. maron had introduced it to her a handful of years ago, and, needless to say, she had been honored. up until then, it had belonged solely to him. it was a secret place for him to disappear to, to do whatever it was he did when he was alone . . . brood, probably . . . but he'd chosen to share it with her. she still remembers how her eyes had stung when she'd first learned of this, though she hid it remarkably well behind a bright smile. and memories flood back to her all at once, of how she'd bring little toys ser davos made for her here, and how she'd collect pretty seashells or things lost ashore like a scavenging bird. she liked to think of them as offerings to pay for her stay here.
like how maron makes offerings to the drowned god.
shireen straightens as maron closes the book she had leant to him. jade compendium. she had found it buried in one of the shelves in her father's study. it was old and dusty, but she found it an entertaining read. so, naturally, she had to share it with her beloved brother. truthfully, she had hoped the book would aid in his mood . . . that, perhaps, the solemn air surrounding his name-day could be softened by it.
books always make her feel better, after all. she hopes he will discuss it, but rather he addresses something else entirely . . . and her heart sinks, for she'd hoped to avoid it for as long as she could.
❝ oh. i know. mother won't stop talking about it . . . she thinks father is must wear his best clothes, and remember to address the king formally, and reflect brotherly devotion. ❞ shireen tilts her head, mulling over her lady mother's obsession with it all, how frazzled she has been in the passing days. she wonders if it has anything to do with maron going, as well. she's probably relieved by it. one less bad influence around. and yet she shall be completely alone. it doesn't bother her much, though, she's used to it. the isolation can be filled by books and her thoughts and such, and so when maron prods her with his foot she offers him an endearing grin, in spite of how her chest certainly aches. ❝ shush. i save all of my stories of dragons for you, you daft fool . . . and, you know, i had a dream about a dragon last night. ❞ she uses her own foot to shove maron's away, with a soft laugh. ❝ i dreamed a dragon rose up out of the beach near dragonstone, straight up. it flew upwards with a burst of fire and then disappeared. i was there, watching, and when i woke up i'd realized i'd fallen asleep on sea demons: a history of the childre of the drowned god of the isles. thankfully i hid it quickly under my pillow before anyone could find it . . . mother would be furious if she found it in my collection. ❞