"Pardon me, princess," the voice faintly registers in her mind, which was currently preoccupied with the various mixtures in front of her. "Your father calls for you in his quarters." That got her attention, and Cosima straightens from the stool she's been sitting on for the most part of her day, turning to face one of her father's royal guards, standing stoically on the doorway.
"Did he say why?" Why did he send a guard?
"No princess, only that it is urgent and that I escort you."
"Oh no, that's okay, you can go ahead and tell him I'm right behind you."
"I apologize princess, but I must insist. Your father has made it quite cle-"
"Alright, alright," she cuts him, sighing, trying not to be irritated. Poor guy's just following orders. She hops off, stretching her cramped muscles and closing her strained eyes, before walking past the guard who she knows is following five steps behind her.
She doesn't bother knocking when she reaches her father's chambers, roughly pushing the door open, still miffed at being escorted. The middle aged man turns to look at the rude and noisy entrance, noticing the apology and panic in the guardd's eyes. He nods at him, silently telling the young man to leave them alone. A bow, and then Cosima hears the door behind her quietly click.
"Really father? An 'escort'?" she fumes a little as she approaches, but is smiling, glad to see her father in the outdoors, even if it was just a balcony, his poor health often requiring him to stay indoors.
He snorts, enveloping her in a hug."Hah, knowing how you are, coming in the afternoon when I call you in the morning." She smiles sheepishly at this.
"You never really minded." she comments.
"Yes, well, at least I know it's because you're doing all your little combinations and tests. Someone has to drag you out of the cellar once in a while," he smiles at her, but it doesn't reach his eyes. It does not go unnoticed.
"What is it, father? What is this urgent matter that you escorted me here for?" she tries to keep her tone light, but the worry in her voice is more pronounced, her mind already jumping to conclusions in regard to her father's health.
"A raven just came." it was only then that she notices the small scroll still clutched in his hand, "news from The Capital." Cosima waits patiently, noting the glazed eyes and the constant swallowing. He clears his throat before announcing "the Hand of the King is dead."
Understanding dawns on her face, and she immediately hugs him. "I'm so sorry," she whispers, as her own sadness envelopes her,for the man who always brought her books and informative gifts in the few times he visited or the few times she's been to the Capital, fostering her mind, recognizing the brilliance in her. She knows her sadness is nothing compared to her father's.
"He was a friend," even his voice sounds broken. "A very good friend."
She links her arms in his, "You've lost a dear friend, someone you regarded as your brother. I'm sorry." There is nothing much that she can say.
"The Seven Kingdoms would be sorrier without him. Ethan's the reason it has flourished for two decades, establishing alliances, trade, bussiness, treaties,...no, the Seven Kingdoms would suffer more than you and I. He truly is a great man," she sees his jaw clench, can feel the frustration from him, "and I can't even pay my respects" he mutters.
"Don't even think about it. The Maester says you are in no condition to travel, and King's Landing is-"
"I know that!" Frustration. Powerless at the hands of poor health. Painful acceptance.
He sighs, his palm washing over his face and beard."I'm sorry child. It just pains me, not to be able to go. Which is why I called for you. I would like you to go in my stead."
"Of course."I would have forced you to let me go anyway,bar the circumstance. "I liked him too. I owe a lot to him. Of course I'll go." He nods, and they settle in a comfortable silence.
"Plus, it would also be an opportunity for me to collect and study more of their grapes and different wood that can be used as a cask. I've also been thinking about brewing ale, dark ale, along with the wine, and would like to visit Highgarden to handpick the malt, barley.. "
A quiet chuckle stops her tirade. "Gods daughter, only you could make this a learning experience. We are already producing wine, excellent wine, thanks to your tinkering and analytical ventures." And your fascination to living things, he mentally adds.
"I know, but there's still so much more we could make, different kinds, with different casks, concentrations, ratios of the ingredients-"
"Child, you lost me at 'ratios' " he was still smiling. "Always my curious little girl."
"I am not a little girl" she protests with a scoff "and I owe it to him, you know. He encouraged and fed my curiousity, even though I'm a girl, the Maesters in training would-"
"Oh screw those pretentious pricks. You're more brilliant than half of them combined, Ethan knew that."
She smiles, a new wave of affection washing over her. "I was supposed to ask your permission to go visit him, to ask him what i just told you. Maybe establish a trade."
. Quiet understanding.
"You travel in a fortnight."
"What do you mean you don't know what caused it, it's your job to know!" They've been discussing this for hours, without being any closer to the answer as when the question was raised, and Rachel was starting to lose the cool demeanor she usually employed during small council meetings. "Men don't just get sick and die. At least not my father, I know him" she quietly seethes, trying to regain her composure.
A beat of silence. Tense. Uncomfortable.
The Lord of Whispers breaks it, clothed in his colorful and artistic robes. "There is one possibility. But I never brought it up because it makes no sense. Ethan Lannister was loved and respected, even by those who know him in the East."
"Out with it, Lord Felix."
"Poison."
The atmosphere stiffens. Taut.
"Like I said, it makes no sense. The tears of Lys. Tasteless and clear as water. Rare and extremely deadly, it leaves no trace."
Her hope deflates. "So it cannot be detected." It was more of a statement than a question.
This is new information, but it doesn't do much good, not when it's just speculation.
"Actually, there might be." Heads turn to face Aldous.
Doubt. Incredulity.
"There are rumors of someone who developed a method to detect it, sort of an expert in the field. It is still being refined, of course, so detecting it might take some time."
Felix was trying not to show any outward reaction. "I've heard similar whispers. But at the moment, that's all they are, whispers. Which begs the question," he trains his eyes towards the balding man in black robes, chains hanging on his neck, "how ever did you hear of this mysterious person, and a foreigner from Lys no less, known only in...the right circles. That's really more of my domain, don't you think?"
An amused smile. Taunting. "Well I am the Grand Maester, I do believe I'm in one of those circles, don't you think."
"And I do believe maesters, especially the Grand Maester, is concerned more on healing rather than killing." Sarcasm. Sass.
"Enough, both of you!" the power and warning in her voice effectively bringing them to heel. "I don't care if it's a magician, a sorcerer, or a ghost. If there's a chance he can prove it, then bring him to me."
"Her." Two voices, the first thing they agree on.
"Excuse me?"
"Her, my Lady" Felix repeats.
A golden brow raised. "And does this 'her' have a name?"
"Delphine of Lys."
AN: OK,seriously, this is something that has been bugging my mind for quite a while now until it's consuming me and driving me crazy, and seriously,why is Game of Clones not a thing?(after I laughed and laughed manically for two whole minutes, in public with people starting to give me looks, at how stupidly genious it sounds, the utter cornyness and geekiness of it) am I the only one who cannot unsee Rachel as a Lannister, as if she was born to be a Lannister?No? okay.
Also, English isn't my first language, heck, it isn't even my second language, so my apologies for all present and future mistakes. I'd really appreciate feedback to bounce and form ideas with.