Chapter Text
Genocide wasn't something Connery had ever thought that the girl his mother once was was capable of in the way a good person wasn't capable of true atrocities, but then again, he'd never saw her with pride that can be wounded before this life so anything is apparently on the table. That is to say, a week after bringing little Lyndon, who Thyrion refused to be parted from for some reason, into the world his mother was off to eradicate the Dothraki once and for all. From what he's gathered, from the gossiping princess who was putting him on edge with her suspiciously reasonable acceptance that he'll need to evaluate his own worth before accepting her advances, it was a mix of her being pissed at his father and the Dothraki squandering their chance to change if they wished to have continued relations with the Peverii. Honestly, Connery just wanted to be of use and go with her, but that wasn't to be. Instead he was sitting with his father, who also wanted to go with her, as he sat in silence in the more private garden. He hated this almost as much as he hated the smell of Abraxas's hair routine that clings to absolutely everything, no man would want to smell like someone into Greek love when said man could be made to deal with unforgiving legislation.
"Her highness mentioned something about Mother being upset." He said almost boredly, his previous life as a charismatic demagogue was helpful in terms of politic funnily enough.
"I said something horrible after Lyndon was born." The man admitted his eyes still not looking away from the ground before them.
"That is unfortunate, dare I ask for clarification?" The boy tensed at what was likely to be bad news, not for him but for his mother's sanity.
"I may have implied she was a a feral bitch in heat." How his father was still breathing was likely a testament to the thi ga she had to have gone through in both lives.
"That sounds too specific to be an implication." That earned his father's ticked jaw and a stilted silence.
"My mouth spoke before my mind made a better argument for her to rest." Connery wished to call bullshite on that.
"That wasn't all, was it?" He asked the older blond earning a tired sigh.
"I did so after asking that I keep her bed warm until Lyndon slept through the night." The knight admited and things began clicking together.
"And she told you of the plan in regards of her extra husband's?" At his father's nod Connery continued. "You do know she will lie with them only to complete the marriage at this time, one after the other until she's gotten the number of men she is as comfortable with as she can be, there will be at least a year before she's expected to give one a child and even then it will have to be one that she trusts implicitly given the history between herself and that experience."
The wince his father gave him made him want to pull out his hair.
"Cease this regretful moping." Connery groaned before he could stop himself. "There is a fact that is painfully apparent in both this life and her last and that is that she wasn't treated as an actual person for long enough that her very life was a commodity. I should know, I was one of the bastards that tried to use her life, her blood, to bolster my existence from that of a wisp of a memory to a thing that had no business being alive. Even then, when she stood before me, as I prattled on and on about her death at my hands, her eyes were filled with nothing but understanding and forgiveness. Do you know what it takes to face the man, the monster, who not only made you an orphan but had been trying to kill you from five and ten turns old to seven and ten years, and instead of hate or regret or anything else silently reach out to the monster who will kill you while you yourself are weaponless and forgive it for it? I didn't, not then, and I barely do now that she has showered me with love and affection as a mother should even whilst knowing who I was before I was this one."
"How?" His father asked softly.
"When you die with a torn soul, the end of all can't exactly take you to the great beyond when you don't remember having a whole soul." He answered before sighing and looking ahead unseeingly towards the garden. "This life, this one I was given, is to be a second chance, I think, or it is to be the first of my hell. How much more agonizing is it to have the family that I needed, to know the taste of being cherished only to have it ripped away?"
"It won't be." His father's reassurance tasted like ash on his tongue.
"She is only one person, Ser Jamie. She cannot be the head of this family and care for all of the children that she has now and those to come at once while serving as the wife to the heir to a Lord Paramount to the degree that's expected of her. Once we reach ten years, she can't hold us as close as she wants without sacrificing herself more than she has before. I know that a core desire of hers is family, hence why she ripped that bastards head off when he took it from her. It very well will be, since the House of Black and White has pressed the issue so-"
"This is a safeguard more than it is a manner of controlling her." A new, aged voice cut off the ranting of the blond menace. "My lady is both very strong yet the weakest she will ever be."
Their attention locked onto a man in the robes of one of the higher ranked acolytes (bordering on priests at that point), who had joined the father son pair at some point.
"What?" Both Connery and Jamie were bewildered.
"She doesn't know what she can do so she holds herself back in order to ensure that she doesn't cross any boundaries that she happens to be beholden to." The old man, who looked more like wrinkles and bones, said as he stepped closer, bitterly adding with his calm steps. "Death's companion doesn't rest when the end comes, she gets a pat on the head before being shoved out into the fray once more. My God is cruel to those he cherishes most in that sense."
"You're implying that Lady Peverii will know no peace?" Connery gritted his teeth at the idea that someone deserving of such peace being denied it. "Does she know?"
"This time, likely not."
《《◇》》
Haerelle shifted as she sat at the desk in her rooms, looking out at one of the gardens while waiting for the first of her studstock men to initiate her people's marriage rite by sneaking into her rooms and now that she actually sat down and thought about it, was predatory in ways that dried her up in many ways.
A knock sounded at her door. She granted entrance thinking it was a maid bringing Lyndon for a feeding only to be met with Ser Arthur Dayne carrying a tray of dried and candied fruits that are native to Dorne.
He swept in and set the tray next to her and gave her a chaste kiss to the crown of her head.
"Your Moon has helpfully reminded me that there isn't any way to know for certain if we truly consummated save the stolen evidence and your request for moon tea, so I will not force myself upon you as neither of us are truly ready for this, and is accepted as long as I present what I understood to be your small clothes that has been smeared with my spend to the appropriate authorities, so we shall spend the evening building a type of trust." He matter of factly said before guiding her to the bed to recline so they could eat the food and talk about things of little importance in the grand scheme of life late into the night.
《《◇》》
Saem stood outside Lady Peverii's door gathering the courage to knock when it opened invitingly. He entered his mouth dry and nerves frayed, feeling like he's going on to do a daunting task once more. Once more? Within he came face to face with her Ladyship in all her imposing glory as she sat primly before her fire with a book.
"Come have a seat Saem. Tonight we will talk, lying with each other can be left for another time if you so wish, if you wish to wed me that is." She motioned for him to sit across from her like he was her equal.
"I do." He spat out, his words rushing out faster than he could stop them. "I wish to marry you."
He felt his cheeks begin to burn painfully, he blew it.
"Do you hold fondness for either sex, Saem? As part of the screening process past lovers are interviewed and you had none that could be found." She asked instead, now closing her book and locking her spinel colored eyes with his own light lilac ones.
"I feel no inclination towards either." He answered honestly, anything less would be his head. "Both are lovely to look upon for different reasons, but I've little desire to do more than look."
"And yet you wish to be little more than breeding stock to someone who likely cannot give you the love you deserve." She bit out almost bitterly, tearing her gaze from his.
"When I was about three and ten years old, I was working in the fields my father lorded over as per the agreement between my family and yours, when a girl of nine years came running through the field I was in, passing by me in a flurry of laughter and mischeif, she was being chased by her cousin and brother while their grandmother had business to attend to with my father. Her laughter made me pause my work and listen to it, like it was a song that needed to be heard without interruption, and when my work was done and I could no longer hear her I went home only to hear that same girl be censured for being a child, my heart broke for her, because the world was so cruel to her as to make her grow up before her time. I want to marry you so that any children you have now, and any future children you may have my lady, will be given one parent who can allow them what they need to be children for as long as they should." He knelt before her, near enough that should she wish, she could run her fingers through his hair.
She did, almost soothingly, like she could coax him down from the conviction he had hidden for years under a duty to his leige lord.
《《◇》》
Jaime had taken to avoiding both his wife and her men, so it was a surprise when Viserys approached him.
"How can I please her?" The white haired prince asked the moment Jamie was cornered.
"Please who?" The blond hoped it wasn't what he was thinking.
"Our mutual wife." A pit of dread the size of his fist formed in his chest.
"Ah." He couldn't help the disappointment that bled into his voice.
"Yes, ah. Now what does she like?" The prat asked again.
"You should be having that conversation with her, your highness." Jaime focused on what he wanted to do with Thyrion and Lyndon after their nap was over to keep himself from launching at the prince.
"Let me rephrase this, how does one go about pleasing a woman in general?" The gods are fucking with him now aren't they.
He sent a disbelieving look at the prince.
"I'm serious, I know how to make it good for me but doing that doesn't feel right. I'd ask Ser Arthur, but the man is more bent than Prince Consort Laenor was and the gardener looked like he survived a brush with death itself when I mentioned the topic and the others are either unhelpful or already cut from the running from what I've gathered and I refuse to look like a bumbling idiot by asking her how to seek her pleasure to her face." Oh, they are, with a dull blade.
The Kingslayer took a centering breath, because of course he'd know more about finding his wife's pleasure than she does, and it hurt to have to share this information.
"First, do you know the anatomy of a woman?" The blond asked dully.
"Yes I've seen one, what does it matter?" Gods have mercy upon him, he was going to strangle this prince.
He grabbed a stick and began to draw in the dirt in as much detail as he could the part in question, before explaining how to please a woman with the drawing and the appropriate gestures. He wanted to instead be with his wife.
《《◇》》
She stood in formation, stalk still awaiting orders as she should from her superior.
"You, come." The trainer picked her out and began walking, she followed.
The sunlight burnt her eyes as she saw it for the first time in ages.
"You are Yara Greyjoy, companion to the young ladies Peverii, your mission until told otherwise is to ensure their continued survival until you are reassigned by her Ladyship, the High Matron. Do you understand?" Was asked while her eyes fought to adjust smoothly.
"Yes, Commander." Yara answered with the appropriate salute.
She was left in the sunny room and stood, waiting to be taken to her charges or to hear their voices so she could track them, for an unknown amount of time.
A floaty woman arrived and guided her then to her charges who were in their room waiting for her.
"Welcome back Yara." The one she knew to be Joanna greeted her warmly.
"The Yara you knew is dead." She explained simply, all of the faceless were dead once they started training.
"Yet you are the same Yara we knew." The other twin snorted. "Don't say otherwise, we see you."