A Song of Frost & Flame

by Chimaera1201

When Robert's Rebellion broke out, the ancient friend and ally of the Starks, House Tormont offered their oldest daughter to the Lords of the Corridor for their alliance. Powerful and respected, the Taugere family kept the way north safe and at peace for thousands of years. But a less known prophecy may declare if the world will freeze over again, or burn in the fires.

12. Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12 – THE STRUGGLE

The sky was deep and dark with the shine of the stars, and yet another full moon. The unplanned circumstances forced their company to spend at least a month at Riverrun, time enough for their people to heal and recover adequate strength to return home despite lord Edmure's invitation to stay under their care for any length of time they needed. He was very kind, and eager to help where he was able to; and lord Hoster Tully was not at all diffident of the companionship as both his daughters had married and were living their own lives, yet they granted that he could entertain the thought of earlier years in his home. In the days following the incident Berin, Gavin and Saerus went back to the camp site in the woods, returning with what was not carried off and the bodies of their order's two lost sentinels. Remir was found in the woods, a deep cut across his throat while he was in need of relieving himself; and possibly hearing a struggle in the darkness, or just growing concerned regarding the outdrawn absence Adelard went to investigate, only rounding the side of the merchant cart to be struck in the heart by a bolt, his body being concealed by the shadows. It was a dispiriting time, and the sorrow was as heavy. The remains were entrusted to Riverrun's maester for preparation to journey home, and be lay to rest by their families. Over the weeks that followed, the wounded recovered; all except for Hernaut. He tried to dismiss the fact that his body was no longer as it used to be, and insisted that he will return to his service once he has again found his footing. Wounds did heal, and both body and spirit became stronger, but for the time being Raeghun had to resort to a cane to help his walk. Initially he hated the idea, and refused its use; but following pleas from his wife he accepted the aid. Finally deeming themselves fit for travel, their visit to Riverrun ended, and Edmure assigned a small party of guards to escort them as far as Seagard to retrieve their horses, from where they headed home. By this time having developed an evident bearing stomach, Milla decided to exchange her horse for a less hazardous seat on the small cart holding what they reclaimed from the road; and to their elation on a warm day the burning mountain came into view over the horizon. Their arrival was met with both great joy and concern by all of their household, but the happiness of being home and safe was greater than any other; and cook Jeody prepared something special for their welcome. Subsequent to seeing that the remains of Remir and Adelard, along with all of their belongings were returned to their families, Maester Adlyn again tended all of the wounded, and gave his aid and advise. In privacy, he examined the damage to Raeghun's back and thigh, finding that there was no damage that would lead to striking alterations, that the wounds healed well and that with enough time, care and exercise the lingering weakness to the lord's leg would diminish enough not to be obvious should it not vanish entirely, again giving his advice to try and adhere to his previous routine as much as he found possible, and walk the castle and its ground as frequently as he could to fortify his strength; yet insisted on the continued use of the cane to aid his balance. He gave his time to see Claira and Milla as well, relieved that apart from fatigue and a small degree of anxiety they were otherwise unharmed and in good health, and in a bout of excitement determined that the court maiden's expectancy was faring well, calculated at around twenty five weeks. Yet, another serene week passed bringing with it Milla's ten and ninth name day on clear skies and warm sunlight while her handmaiden Aurelne displayed an enhanced attraction to the order's tallest sentinel, one he didn't care to notice or intentionally dismissed as her continuing attempts for his attention failed. One overcast morning, Raeghun sat at the table in the Hollow, going through a selection of letters, mulling over the situation they were forced into. Two members of their order were stolen from them, and another left severely wounded. And while most of their strength returned to them, one did not. He had known this sentinel his entire life, and while he had an astounding adoration for him, it was unfair to expect something from him that his body would no longer allow him to do; and the heartache of what must be done tore at him. He breathed in deeply, attempting to lessen the quiver of his muscles and the prickles to his throat and chest, then he brought his attention to the sentinel entering Mount Ardor's rounded counsel chamber.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, and the broad shouldered man with sand brown hair and green eyes smiled at him.

"I am well, my lord. Maester Adlyn has ensured that I am fit." he reported, and Raeghun nodded.

"That is good to hear. I need..." he thought for a moment, trying to delay the moment he would have to bear with a heavy heart.

"I need to speak to Falgon." he said, and Edur bowed his head before he left to call on him while Raeghun sat, trying to discern the shadows from the dull light. I probably shouldn't have waited this long... A moment later the tall sentinel stepped inside, stopping next to the table and bowing formally while the door was closed behind him.

"You summoned me, sire?" he enquired as he straightened, and Raeghun smiled softly through a small sigh.

"I did." he confirmed, looking up. Although, I'm not exactly sure why...

"I need..." he started, but didn't know what to say as he studied the man in front of him, calm and patient, waiting for something that even his lord was at this moment unsure of.

"No. No, that's not exactly right. I want you to make a promise to me." he finally said.

"Anything, sire." Falgon assured, and Raeghun nodded.

"Please do not misunderstand. I will always be grateful for what you've done for me. However, you were assigned as my wife's sentinel. I placed you at her side for a reason, so the decision of choosing at whose side you stand does not fall to you." he said, but the dark eyes remained soft and understanding.

"Of course. Give me your command, sire; and I will obey." he promised, and Raeghun could find a genuine smile.

"When peril is present in any circumstances, never leave her side again. The lady of Mount Ardor is more important than I, or any other in this hold or even this domain, she is the future of our house." he said, and Falgon again bowed formally, acknowledging his command.

"As you bid, sire." he said, and then again met the burning blue eyes.

"Promise me." he said, and Falgon nodded through his gentle smile.

"I promise." he agreed, and Raeghun took yet another uneasy breath; the sting of the bolt still light in his back, but then he looked up hardening himself.

"Good. Have Hernaut summoned to me." he instructed, and the Falgon bowed before leaving. Moments later the older man was helped inside by his companions and set on a chair facing the lord, and there was a few moments of drawn-out silence before resting his hand on the table.

"How fares your recovery?" he asked and Hernaut smiled nervously.

"Well, my lord. A bit slower than I hoped for, but I'm becoming stronger each day." he assured, trying to mask the true outcome. Claira came up the hallway and found Berin at the door, looking morose. She looked at him, studying his features before reaching for the door feeling an ache to her heart.

"Perhaps you should not, my lady. Don't make this harder that what it is..." he said softly, and slowly her hand pulled back from the door.

"I've spent a lot of time reflecting on our circumstances, and I had to come to the conclusion that with the situation being what it is, I must release you from my order. You will be well compensated for your years of loyal service to my family, and you are free to rejoin your own in Garde's Post." Raeghun said, shunning the bitterness on his tongue. Hernaut stared at him, sorrow drowning the deep blue eyes.

"Lord Raeghun, I have been watching over you since you were a boy. The order was the greatest part of my life. Please, please don't send me from your side. I can still fight." he pleaded, and then the clear blue eyes met his, fervent and hard.

"You can barely stand. Do you believe that my father would have continued your service in your condition?" he asked and the sentinel leaned back against the chair.

"You are not your father." he reminded softly, and Raeghun sighed.

"No, I might not be. But I am the lord of this hold, and must make the best decisions for everyone, even you albeit against your will or better judgement." he stood, taking the cane next to him and came forward in a strained walk, laying a hand on the sentinel's shoulder.

"I will have three of our castle hands help you to gather all of your belongings, and then take you home. Give your daughters the chance to take care of you, when so many others will not be allowed that same honour." he promised, and then left the Hollow. He looked at Berin still beside the door.

"Our order is in need of three new sentinels, Berin. Do you think you can manage that?" he asked, and his friend nodded.

"There may be some promising members of the guard. I will inform you at the soonest." he assured, and Raeghun glanced back at the space now only holding the shadow of a man whom was entrusted with the protection of their lives, and their bloodline.

"Come, it is time for my walk." he said, and they left down the corridor to trail on the outside pathways.

"Do you think he will hate me?" Raeghun asked softly as they descended the grand stairway.

"He might, for a while. And then he will come to understand." Berin assured as they headed towards the great door, and before leaving the attention of three young men were called upon, and given instruction to tend to Hernaut, the assembling of his effects and his safe conveyance home, to his two daughters.

Claira and Milla enjoyed the afternoon in the lady's common room in the sun tower while listening to the gentle rain outside, working on their embroidery and sharing their thoughts. A serving girl brought a tray stocked with fresh crispels and pressed fruit extract for their enjoyment. Claira glanced at Milla, taking in her beautiful smile, the face of a mother and she thought for a moment of her own. How strong she was, the lady of Pale Haven that reigned its halls with an argent hand. Pure and inflexible, like her father's sword that she had once heard was named Talon; a long shimmering blade of silver that glistened in sunlight. How she missed them, their faces, their voices, their smiles just like the one she saw in front of her now. Hers was a happy life, it always has been except for one thing. Only one more thing. A new face, a new name, a new laugh, a new life to complete her family. The one thing she had been thus far been denied despite her yearning and her attempts to ignore it. It will happen. It will... Her attention went back to the work in her hands, and she examined the image. Originally, she planned to only have six roses, the colours of the petals changing from blue centres to purple to red to orange and finally bright yellow edges. But now that she stared at it, she still wanted to add more flowers to her basket, it felt so empty. She considered Moonflowers, Lavender, Morning Glory's and Marigolds in all their rich colours, Foxgloves and Poppies, perhaps leaves in all their different greens. Tiny blossoms of soft pink, yellow and blue. A few small twigs...

"Claira?" her eyes went up to meet Milla's.

"I'm sorry." she said after a moment, realizing her thoughts had dragged her away again; and Milla laughed softly.

"It's al right. I know you have a tendency to 'wander' a bit." she said, adding another stitch to her work.

"I shouldn't do that, it's silly. You asked me something, didn't you?" she enquired as they continued their work.

"I was only asking, how your dear husband is doing?" she asked, bringing a slight smile.

"Better and better, each day. But he is severely frustrated with the situation, Raeghun is not the most patient man. And he thinks others might believe him unfit." she mentioned, and Milla scoffed.

"Oh, stuff those 'others'. You don't just jump up one day and everything is the way it was. Not after what they had to face." she said, and then lowered her hands thinking back.

"We were completely unprepared for what happened. We were lucky to get away with our lives... well, most of them." a tear ran down her cheek, but then looked up with a smile.

"Mount Ardor is blessed, to have him. I don't know what would have happened otherwise." she said, and Claira nodded.

"He did it all, without a moment's hesitation. Without any second thoughts. And then he came back, without so much as a bruise..." she shared the thoughts,

"Did you ever find out how many there were?" Milla asked, and Claira sighed shaking her head.

"No, but they said they were more than fifty." she mentioned, and Milla sat back against the chair staring at her.

"That many?" she didn't believe her, and honestly she wouldn't have either.

"It might have been sixty, I'm not sure. But it wasn't less than forty." she tried to correct it, but the words she heard was unclear. The final part at least she heard. No less than forty...

"And how are you feeling? Is your Berin excited?" she guided their conversation into a less sombre direction.

"I'm feeling very well, except for my feet; and Berin has been very helpful. My baby has been moving quite a bit more lately, but then he sings to him. It seems to calm him." she said, and Claira couldn't help but snigger through a smile.

"Berin sings?" and she tried to imagine it, seeing Milla blush.

"Yes, as best he can." she said

"That is adorable. Maybe I'll ask him to perform in our hall one evening." she joked, and Milla laughed with her.

"And you'll make sure to give instruction to Jeody to bring out his very best for the tables." she added, their attention went back to the work in their hands.

"Have you decided on a name?" Claira asked, and Milla nodded.

"A son we will name Berterin, and a daughter we will name Bella." she told, and Claira nodded.

"What beautiful names..." she reflected, and saw Milla glance at her again.

"Have you ever given any thought to your children's names?" she asked, and Claira felt the sting of a bee in her chest.

"No. But I suppose I will get to that, at some point." she said softly, driving away the bitterness.

"Soon. My child will be in need of a best friend." Milla tried to ease,

"Yes. Soon." but this time the dark would not fade. She added another three stitches to a rose petal, and then a shadow darkened the doorway; and they looked up to see maester Adlyn smiling at them with letters in his hands.

"My apologies for interrupting you, my ladies. We have received ravens from both Pale Haven and Oldtown. Houses Tormont and Hightower grows, both ladies are with child." he informed excitedly, passing a glance between Milla and Claira that was at first excited and then uneasy as a pause of silence followed, and Claira's eyes remained on the space in front of her.

"My lady?" Adlyn called again softly, unsure of his fault; but then she looked at him smiling.

"That's... That's wonderful, maester. Please send them our congratulations." she said, and then stood laying her embroidery hoop down on the chair.

"Would you please pardon me for a moment? I... I need to see that cook Jeody has everything in order for this evening." she excused, and then left the room with Milla and Adlyn remaining behind. The maester looked back at their court maiden.

"Was it something I said, my lady?" he asked, and she took a deep breath feeling the pity grow.

"No maester, you haven't done anything. Our lady is... yearning." she said, and he nodded as he rolled the letters between his fingers and his eyes went to the empty space where she vanished; wondering if there was anything he could do to help. There was the Orchid, of course; but that brought its own dangers that were often disregarded despite this aid being frequently recommended for those longing for motherhood. Lengthy and immoderate use resulted in complications and on lesser occasions to complete loss of the opportunity it was meant to present. But there were other, better ways that did not require any external assistance; but possibly a little bit of timing. He shoved the letters back into his sleeve, and looked back at Milla.

"Is there anything I may help you with before I leave?" he asked, and she shook her head.

"No maester, I'm fine. I'll stay here a little bit longer." she said, and returned her attention back to her embroidery; and he left deciding to try and give his advice. He went down the steps, then passed the arch heading into his tower and down the incline that led past the lord's wing, heading further down on his way towards the Hall of Fire, and then he paused glimpsing a figure in red standing in front of the window on the other side of the wide table that was in the Hollow. Then he took a deep breath and stepped inside before closing the door.

"My lady?" she didn't turn to face him, but her motion told that she was wiping away tears.

"I'm sorry, if I upset you." he said coming closer, and then she turned.

"I'm being stupid, maester. It's not your fault, it's not their fault... It's no one's fault, this is just me being stupid. Just me being..." she started to explain, but then he took her hands.

"Just you being lonesome. Everyone close to you receives this blessing, every house grows effortlessly while yours have been delayed." he finished, and she looked down shielding her reddened eyes.

"My lady, I want to help you." he said softly, and felt her fingers softly tighten in his.

"Can you?" she asked looking up, and he smiled.

"I promise you that I will try." this brought a slight smile to her, a little glimmer of hope. Then their attention went to a knock at the door.

"Enter." Claira allowed, wiping away another tear, and a young page entered.

"My apologies for interrupting you milady, maester. We need your help, the smith's apprentice burnt his hand." he said, and then Adlyn looked back at Claira.

"Come see me after supper, then we will talk." he said, petting her hand and she nodded in agreement before he left the Hollow to attend to his bidding and she remained standing there in the empty space, listening to the hum of the rain and the roll of the thunder. Then she turned and looked at the clouds, dark and thick and ominous, and while the clouds passed over the darkness remained. She breathed in, feeling the moist cool of the breeze filtering through the window, and then as planned made her way to the kitchen to finalize their options with Jeody before returning to her common room and adding several lavender stalks with their delicate purple petals to her basket; and in a few hours a serving girl came to announce that the banquet will soon be served and they proceeded to the feast hall to enjoy their evening with each other's company while they shared honey glazed goose and countryside greens with sweet potatoes, sating their thirst on ale and fine wine. Shortly after, Claira excused herself to meet with their maester, who gave his advise and soundly explained each choice with its effects and risks, and she was allowed to decide. Following a brief examination she returned to the lord's wing to take her bath, and she headed up to their chamber waiting for her husband, hoping and praying that the maester was accurate and that the slight pain she had been experiencing on her right side since early this morning was not merely anxiety like she had thought several times before. This is your body's way of telling you when you are ready. It is brief, lasting a day or two; but this time has the highest possibility. She looked down at her hands folded on her lap, and listened to the world around her. The soft crackle of the fireplace, the pop of the torches, the sounds of the night from outside, and finally footsteps approaching the door. Her eyes went up to see her husband enter still holding the cane in his right hand, and then closed the door behind him leaving his walking aid next to it and then he came towards her, his fingers starting to unfasten the laces holding the jerkin to his body. He was walking better than he was some weeks ago, but the lameness remained. She stood and went to him raising her hands to help him, and softly pulled the threads free. With the jerkin and tunic discarded, her arms went around his waist while his circled her arms and back.

"Thank you, my sweet." he leaned forward and kissed her, tender and lingering before drawing back.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, and he softly smiled.

"Better. It's easier to move around now, and the pain has lessened." he said, and she lay her head against his chest.

"That is good..." she breathed, and his left hand went up into her hair as he pressed her tighter to him.

"And you?" she looked up at him again, the blue of their eyes merging.

"I'm fine. Why?" then lowered himself again.

"Then that is good." he whispered before placing his lips to hers again, and her arms tightened around him betraying her desperation. She drew back, her lips only touching his as the sensation of flames and frost dancing in a swirl through her body left her skin tingling.

"Raeghun... Make love to me..." she breathed against him, then he kissed her again and drew back staring at her. His hand went to her cheek, his fingers softly caressing the edge of her cheekbone and jaw.

"Is something wrong, Claira?" the clear burning blue was even brighter, but the concern veiling them forced a sting to the frost blue.

"No. No, nothing is wrong." She assured as her hands came back from him, her left going up and around his neck while her right hand rested against his chest, feeling the beat of his strong heart, and he sighed. My dear wife, you're a beautiful woman with a beautiful heart and a gentle nature; but you're a terrible liar... He kissed her again as his right hand slid the gown from her shoulders, and he took her from the floor to the safety of their bed. Discarding what was left of his garments he covered her body with his, branding gentle kisses to her right cheek, down the length of her neck to her chest while her fingers traced icy trails up his thighs to his hips, back and shoulders, and his left hand tenderly touched the form of her arm, the round of her breast and down her stomach, over her hip and thigh to her knee, drawing it past him. Her mouth found his neck as her arms went around his shoulders holding him close to her; then she gasped against him, set in the moment he entered her. He buried his face in the corner of her shoulder, the strands of hair brushing against his cheek as his lips pressed against her neck and he winced, cursing the sting in his back and thigh as he moved and her soft gasps transformed into light whimpers to his skin. Her fingers strained into him as she held him, her legs bringing him closer to her, feeling his heated breaths over her. Then his voice sounded close to her ear in a mild groan, and like a thousand times before, she could feel her husband pulsing inside of her as she moaned against his shoulder; and she prayed again that her womb would quicken and embrace the heir to the mighty Taugere bloodline… Hours later he lay awake, watching as she slept. His right arm wrapped around her waist, and hers anchored around his neck while her leg covered his hips. He felt so sorry for her, that she was forced to endure this. That the one thing she wanted more than anything else, something that was supposed to be so easy, was the one thing he wasn't able to give her. His left hand went to her, gently stroking her cheek; and then he remembered the words of the old man on the beach. The loneliness won't last, sire. Frost and flame will join, and she will bear you a son in time.He sighed. Time? We are only given so much, and it can be taken away at any moment... But if there is any chance, any at all... He turned and kissed her, stirring her from sleep before moving forward and covering her again. Even in her drowsiness her arms coiled around his shoulders while he kissed her, and he entered her once more.

She woke to the sheen of sunrise, and a loving kiss as her husband rose to start his day.

"I'll meet you in the southern hall. I love you." he whispered, and then stood moving off to claim his clothing before seizing the cane and departing the chamber to cleanse himself. She lingered between the sheets a moment longer, feeling exhausted and sore but content as she attempted to recall how many times she accepted him; each time more insistent, more urgent, more desperate. Her hand went to a cut on her lip where she had bitten herself to sever what could have been a cry, and she reminded herself that her husband would never harm her, and the discomfort she felt was not caused by him, but the swelling in her stomach and she could only imagine the count of lesions down his back. She rose debating on her attire for the day as she pulled her robe over her, and a soft knock sounded at the door, and she allowed entry to three handmaidens who helped her dress and brushed out her hair before starting on the chores of the lord's wing and she passed through the door, finding her sentinel awaiting her.

"Good morning, your grace." he greeted politely, and she smiled closing the door.

"Good morning, ser Falgon." she returned, and noticed him studying her before he rose his hand, indicating her mouth.

"Who did that to you?" he suddenly asked, his deep voice wrought with concern and her hand covered her mouth.

"No one. No one did this to me, I did it to myself." she said quickly, seeing the concern change to confusion in his dark eyes.

"Why?" in a vulnerable moment of anger and frustration she snapped at him.

"Why are you questioning me? Who do you think you are?" regretting it instantly as he returned to how he was.

"Forgive me, your grace. You don't owe me any explanations, of course." he said, and she hated herself.

"No. No, I'm sorry. You're just concerned, you're doing what you're supposed to." she said, but he smiled gently.

"It's al right." he eased, and then turned.

"Shall we start your day, your grace?" and she nodded.

"Yes, of course." and they headed down through the halls to meet the rest of their people. They found Milla overseeing preparations for their morning meal, dressed in green velvet and her hair hanging freely down her back, her hands resting on a well rounded stomach, and Claira smiled reflecting on a single flake of hope that she may be able to join in her happiness soon. She glanced back at her sentinel.

"I will wait for you here, if it please you." he said, and she nodded being able to count the number of times he shared a table in their hall on a single hand and she entered their hall as he watched her move away.

"Good morning, ser Falgon." he turned and looked down into light violet eyes smiling at him.

"Good morning, Aurelne." he returned, indifferent to her presence.

"I hope you slept well." she said, and he thought for a moment.

"I had a fair evening, thank you." she remained next to him.

"You're shadowing our lady today?" she asked, and he glanced back into the hall.

"I am." he confirmed, and for a moment she looked almost disappointed.

"Well, I am in service of lady Milla today. Perhaps I will meet with you again later." she said, and he bowed his head in his normal polite manner as she moved away and he spared her a final glance as she made her way to their ladies. Aurelne was a nice girl, but her persistent interest in him was misplaced. Truth be told, it would have been liberating if he shared the sentiment, but he didn't. There was nothing, just a black void vacant of all emotion, and he had a moment of hope that it may change to someone more suited to her. Then he felt a hand to his shoulder, and he turned back to see Berin who had come from the barracks.

"Good morning, ser." he greeted, and Falgon smiled.

"Good morning, my lord." he returned, and Berin laughed.

"Will you be joining us?" he asked,

"Not this morning. I will wait here until her grace has need of me." he assured, and Berin scoffed.

"Yes, naturally. No wonder the young ones have taken to calling you 'the rock'." he teased, and Falgon laughed.

"The rock, of all things?" Berin looked around.

"They won't let you hear that, of course." he mentioned, but Falgon shrugged.

"Their silly appellations don't bother me." he assured, and Berin smirked.

"Fuck, is there anything that does?" he teased, and Falgon took a moment to thought.

"One or two things..." he mentioned, and Berin was left shaking his head.

"I will never understand you." he said, meeting the dark eyes.

"Perhaps that is best." he said, and Berin moved forward into the hall.

"Well then, I will see you later." he said as he left him there, shadowing the doorway and he made his way to his wife evidently sharing her thoughts and recent experiences with the lady of the hold as she stood laughing. He wrapped a strong arm around her, and gently kissed her cheek before bringing his attention to Claira.

"Good morning, my lady. I trust you had a good evening?" he greeted, and she smiled under a soft blush to her pale cheeks.

"Good morning, lord Berin. It was thank you, and I am quite relieved at a clear sunrise this morning." she said, and spared a glance at the doorway.

"Have you seen my dear lord husband, perchance?" noticing that his was not among the faces in their feast hall.

"He is in consultation with the maester, but I am sure he will join us soon." he reported, and she nodded before looking towards the kitchen, on which their hall stood prepared and waiting.

"Well, it should still be some time before cook Jeody serves." her attention came back to Milla.

"Lady Milla, won't you join me in the garden for a while? I crave some sunlight." she requested, and Milla agreed before they wandered off through the great arched doors to their outside world where every type of blossom you could think of bloomed in all their portrait colours. Amidst the banter of the hall, he heard the telling sound of footsteps accompanied by the thud of wood on the stone floor, and he turned to see Raeghun enter the hall.

"Good morning, my lord. May I assume that you have received good tiding?" he asked, and Raeghun smiled.

"Good morning. The same advise I am given every few days, to keep to my routine and continue my practice. But I am feeling better, save for the occasional sting." he reported, and glanced back at the door.

"I suppose I should take to sparring again." he mentioned, but Berin found himself believing that at this time such forceful effort may be too strenuous to the healing process.

"Perhaps you should give yourself a bit more time." he proposed, and then the blue eyes met his again.

"I've had enough of dawdling around. Meet me in the bailey." he instructed, and then turned to make his way outside. Berin sighed softly, and then followed; indicating for Falgon to accompany them as he passed. Cool moist air met them as they exited the hold, despite the clear sky and warm sun and he watched as Raeghun discarded the cane along with his shirt in preparation for their exercise, and he did the same. They took up positions near the wall, where they usually trained together, and the breeze eased scarred skin. He examined him, the wound the bolt had left was now only a crimson mark over the ribs of his back, but for the first time in his life he felt uncomfortable sparring against his best friend with whom he had trained in this same way daily for fourteen years.

"Are you ready?" he asked as he balanced himself, watching Raeghun ready himself.

"Don't hold back." came the lord's instruction.

"Raeghun-" Berin started, having to acknowledge that he did not want to risk further injury to a still healing body, but Raeghun stared at him, blue eyes burning and bright like always.

"I said, don't hold back." he insisted, and Berin nodded. A moment of pause followed, and then they moved forward. Raeghun's motions were queerly slow and awkward, easily predictable and three times his bare shoulders met the earth following what should have been precise attacks. Berin stood breathing hard,

"That's enough." he said, watching his friend rise.

"No. Not yet." I will not submit to this... I am the lord of Mount Ardor... Raeghun refused, ignoring the throb edging through his chest and thigh, and moved forward, faster than before. Berin drew back sharply, avoiding the strike of a fist while bringing his left hand down on Raeghun's shoulder, forcing him to his knee which under normal circumstances would have been very difficult given the lord's strength.

"I said, that's enough." Berin told him again, feeling the heat to his touch.

"Shut up!" I will not be weak... I will not yield! Raeghun suddenly turned and the dull throb became a series of stabs to his muscles, landing a hard elbow to Berin's chest and shoving him back before his weight forced him down; but using the momentum the sentinel countered and the scarred back again found the earth.

"Enough!" Berin ordered from his position above him, but the blue eyes cut into him like freshly forged swords, hard and sharp and enraged. Mine is the blood of the Ardent Kings!

"Fuck you!"he ignored the pain, the jagged sear through his body and brought his left knee up hard, sinking it into Berin's stomach and forcing the air from his lungs before turning, and aiming a destructive blow for his face, the wrath and frustration severing his senses. Suddenly a powerful hand wrapped around his wrist, and his motion stopped as he looked up at the tall figure beside him, every nerve, joint and muscle burning in the pain he forced himself to disregard.

"This ends now. Your frustration is understandable, sire. But exerting yourself will not speed your recovery, it will slow it." Falgon said, and slowly released the lord's wrist as he watched the anguish wash over him and the heat die away. Raeghun raised himself, allowing Berin to sit up, and then his fingers dug into the ground as a defeated call ripped from his agonised lungs, and then he breathed; bringing a forced calmness to himself and looked up at his friend's clear green eyes.

"I'm sorry, Berin..." he said softly, forcing his chest to expand in deep breaths through the stinging; but his friend smiled compassionately and his hand found his shoulder.

"It's al right. Don't push yourself so hard. Your strength will return to you." he assured as he stood, and helped Raeghun to his feet.

"We'll spar again tomorrow, but we'll take it slow. We start with the basics." he promised, and Raeghun nodded hearing his father say that any kind of training was probably better than none at all.

"Very well." he turned to reclaim his shirt, taking a step forward when burning agony tore through his leg up into his back and gravity crushed him, pulling him down to the ground and again he bit back a cry. Concerned hands found him, and through the blazing torture he heard Berin's voice.

"Find the maester, now! And bring water!" he ordered, lifting Raeghun's right arm up and over his shoulder while pushing his way under him, and forced him up.

"Let go of me, Berin. I'm fine." he tried to pull away, but his friend's eyes met his.

"Shut up, Raeghun." he hauled him to a hay bale and set him down, and he noticed the faces around them; both solicitous and mazed.

"Back to your business!" he ordered feeling discomposed, and then eased as he watched them move off and the pain again faded to throbbing.

"You should stop doing this to yourself." Berin said, and Raeghun looked up at him.

"I am the liege of the Corridor, these lands and all of its people are under my protection. I can't protect them if I'm like this. I can't help anyone, if I'm this useless." he said, and Berin sat down next to him. A young page came running down through the doorway with a horn filled with spring water clutched in his hand, bringing it to the lord. He gave it nervously, and then took a step back.

"Is... Is there anything else I can get you, m'lord?" he asked, and Raeghun shook his head waving the boy away, only holding the horn in his hand.

"You are the liege, and nothing will change that. Your line is ancient. But this isn't a debate of title or rights or obligations, but of your health. For once, think of that. Not for me, or the hold or anyone else in this country; but for yourself. For your wife." he said.

"Do you even think she would recognise me, like this?" Berin laughed, like he made some kind of bad joke.

"Claira loves you for your heart. Not for your title, or your features, or your abilities – or lack thereof. And if you ever forget that again, I'll throw you off the bridge myself." he teased, gently shoving his friend, and Raeghun did smile. Berin was right, of course; and realizing it anew made him that much more grateful, and he brought the horn to his mouth. Moments later, maester Adlyn appeared from the doorway rushing over to them to examine the damage. He studied the wounds, ensuring that there were no new tears, then felt along the muscles.

"I am sorry, my lord. It seems you have attempted too much, too fast. Some muscles have been pulled, and newly healed blood vessels torn; but to my relief no severe impairment. I will give you milk of the poppy for the pain, but I strongly recommend that you avoid sparring again for yet another three days at least." he told and Raeghun stared at him, the gall of disappointment etched to his features.

"Three days? Are you being serious?" he asked, and Adlyn's deep brown eyes met his.

"I am afraid so, my lord. Preferably, I would have you pent to absolute rest for that time to further speed the healing. But knowing you, you would in all likelihood refuse that." he said, and Raeghun breathed out. The torments of mortality... The maester looked at Berin.

"Would you be so kind as to escort our lord back into the hold, lord Berin? I will have the aid brought to him in the feast hall, where I assume you will assemble this morning." he said, and then turned to head back into the castle, and Berin stood.

"Well then, the maester has spoken." he said, and glanced at Falgon waiting patiently off to one side. He was grateful for him, had his hand not found Raeghun's wrist, his fist would have met his jaw, and quite possibly several teeth may have made an acquaintance with the ground, and thought of how their roles changed. In the beginning, it was Raeghun that ended their spar, the second it was he who ended that of his friends. Now, their tallest was the one to end theirs. Another guard took the liberty to deliver their tunics and the cane to them, and after pulling the fabric over their shoulders he stood waiting as Raeghun forced himself to his feet. The pain still pulsed through him, but with effort he made the journey to their southern hall where they waited to continue their day. As promised, a small vial of white liquid was delivered to the lord at the high table, and to his best he tried not to strain himself any further, and rather attended to the matters of the hold's court; overseeing the taxation, ending two disputes between farmers and giving his permission for a young couple to enter courtship, all with the court master at his side. After the departure heeding the final matter, Metron looked at him.

"You are doing very well, my lord. I don't know why you keep me around." he mentioned, and Raeghun stood from the throne crowning the grand staircase.

"Because I am still in need of your counsel, Metron. And in the event that there are matters that need attention when I am not fit to pass these judgements, you have the authority to do so in my stead." he explained, and Metron bowed.

"Of course, my lord. I will hold to your guidance whenever so needed." he assured, and Raeghun scanned the hall.

"You knew my father very well; do you believe that my decisions would have carried his approval?" he asked softly, and Metron stepped closer to him.

"I will confess, that you are not as your father was; but sometimes a tender hand has more success than an iron one. And yes, I do believe that he would have been very, very proud. Besides, the same fire burns in you." he said with a smile.

"You may take the rest of the day for yourself, I believe we are done here." he allowed, and Metron thanked him before moving away. Despite the kind words, he didn't feel relieved and decided to ease his mind he might again wander the castle grounds for a time.

Following a brief visit to maester Adlyn himself, Berin headed down to the southern hall to join the evening feast, where Gavin met him on the grand stairway.

"We're heading out to the Hawks for a while, later on. Would you like to join us?" he asked, and he nodded.

"I might consider that, but I need to see to my wife first." he said, and Gavin smiled.

"I'm sure she'll be fine." he said, and he felt strangely annoyed.

"Still, I'll ensure that she is before we leave." Berin insisted, hearing Gavin sigh.

"How you and our lord love your dear wives. A magical notion." he reflected, leaving a sting to Berin's skin. Gavin was indeed a cheerful and involved member of their house, but he didn't believe in the concept of love, and was far more content with the simple giving and receiving of the occasional entertainment; Berin thought perhaps due to the realism that his parents were not as much lovers than they were partners.

"Perhaps you should try finding yourself a wife, Gavin. Then you'll understand." Berin mentioned, and Gavin laughed.

"No, that's not in me. I'd rather leave that kind of enchantment to the two of you." he declined, and an idea came to mind.

"What about that Aurelne girl? She seems pleasant. And I understand you've spent some time together." Gavin looked at him as if he slapped him in the face.

"You haven't been paying much attention, lately. She doesn't want me. You might want to give that same advice to ser Falgon." he mentioned, and Berin shook his head.

"As you wish. We'll meet you later." he agreed, and proceeded on his way meeting the rest of their people where they assembled for the banquet and supped on pork drizzled with apple sauce and lard baked potatoes, steamed broccoli with cheese strips and pumpkin, of course accompanied by mead. After the hall was cleared, and the singers sang their songs the castle lives retreated to their chambers, and he saw that Milla was safely tucked in their bed with a book in her hands, and after assuring that she had everything else she might need he stood at the foot of the bed.

"I'm heading out to the Hawks with Gavin and some others for a while." he informed, and she glanced at him.

"Al right. Don't be back late." she said, and he nodded.

"I won't. I'm tired, anyway." he assured, and came over to kiss her before leaving. Gavin, Edur and Saerus waited for him at the door, and he spared a glance at the arch leading into the barracks.

"Are you ready?" Gavin called, and Berin nodded.

"In a moment. Go on ahead, I'll catch up." he said, and made his way into the guards hall, finding Falgon at his usual place in front of the hearth, in his usual manner.

"We're heading out to the Hawks for a little while. Do you wish to join us?" he asked as he came over, and lay a hand on the backrest of the chair. Falgon lowered the book, looking at the flames.

"I'm not sure. Perhaps I shouldn't." he said softly, and Berin's hand went from the chair to his friend's shoulder.

"Come along. It may do us all good to escape the burn of the mountain." he urged, and after a short pause Falgon sighed and stood laying the book on the table.

"Very well, if you insist." he agreed, and glanced at Summit against the wall.

"You may leave it. We're not heading off to battle, and won't be gone long." Berin eased, but the sentinel's hand went around the grip and he placed the sword where it belonged.

"This sword is a part of me, Berin. Where I go, it goes." he said, and Berin scoffed.

"I'm sorry. Routine became habit, and habits are not easily cast off." Falgon said as he turned, prepared to leave.

"As you wish." they left the light of the guard's hall, through the Hall of Fire and across the bailey, passed under the gate and made their way down the road to Garde's Post where they again found a table near the back hearth of The Greasy Hawks; and a server brought two horns filled with ale for their enjoyment, the other members of their order already well settled in as they conversed with those around them. He glanced at Falgon, his hand clasped around the rim of the horn while he watched the activities of the tavern, and he wondered what he was thinking.

"Are you al right? You've been quiet for a while." the tall sentinel's attention came to him, with the usual soft smile.

"I'm fine. I really am. There's no need for you to concern yourselves about me." he assured, and Berin breathed out, relieved.

"Good. Perhaps, I have been more uneasy than I realized." he confessed, bringing the horn to his mouth. He had tried not to acknowledge it, but the entire atmosphere of Mount Ardor seemed different since their return. There was a darkness that hung over it, and everyone was tense; he expected uneasiness everywhere, but heard his friend chuckle.

"Well, with your little one's time so near, that is quite understandable." he mentioned, and Berin reflected, realizing that it was indeed close. In little more than three moons, he would meet his son or daughter. He leaned forward, placing a hand to his mouth as the reality of that sunk in, and he laughed.

"When she told me, it felt like we would wait forever; but now... now it's so close..." he said softly, and then sat back again.

"I am happy for you, my friend." Falgon congratulated, and then looked up at Gavin who came over to them.

"So glad you could join us, my friends." he said as he smiled and sat down to share their table.

"Thank you for the invitation." Berin said, and Gavin glanced between them.

"So, how is your dear wife? Was everything al right when you left?" he asked, seeming genuinely interested.

"She is well, and yes everything was fine. But I'd prefer not to leave her side for long." Berin said,

"I'm sure someone will come running if something happened." Gavin said, leaving yet another sting to Berin's throat.

"Are you trying to get on my nerves?" he asked suddenly, but Gavin smiled.

"No, not at all. I adore Milla, she's one of the most beautiful ladies of our hold. She was a good match for you, the lord's head of the sentinels, and the lady's court maiden." he said, and then glanced at Falgon.

"Speaking of matches, I've noticed the attention of another lovely young woman of our hold turned towards you quite a bit lately." he mentioned, and Falgon brought the horn to his mouth.

"Oh." he said, and then swallowed of the ale while Gavin stared at him, baffled.

"If you haven't noticed, you're either blind or stupid." he said, and Falgon shrugged as he placed the horn back on the table.

"Whichever fits you." he said, his dark eyes coming up to him.

"She's a nice girl, Falgon. Maybe give her a chance. I've spent some time with her, she might surprise you." he urged, suddenly seeing the dark eyes harden.

"I'm not here to find a woman, Gavin. My loyalty is to her grace, only. Her safety and welfare is my charge, and I will not allow my duty to be divided by anything." he determined, and Gavin sat back.

"Well, fuck me then. You look like a man, but you certainly don't act like a natural one." he said, and Falgon looked away from him.

"Go get yourself something, or someone to do, Gavin." Berin said, and he stood.

"'The rock' indeed. It's not our pleasures that are deprived." he teased as he stepped away, his arm going around a girl in a light ivory dress, and Berin shook his head sighing.

"Don't mind him. He's already had too much ale." he said, and looked back at Falgon, still staring at the flames; but it did seem odd.

"You care about lady Claira that much; that having a normal life is of no value to you?" he asked softly, and then Falgon looked at him.

"I had nothing, Berin. I was nothing. Everything I do now, everything I am, even my name is because of her. Wouldn't you feel the same way?" he countered, and Berin thought on that for a moment before nodding.

"Yes. Yes, I would." he agreed, and then Falgon looked away, his eyes going to the wood flooring.

"What's wrong?" Berin asked, and saw his friend's shoulders rise and fall in a deep breath.

"I will admit, that I'm disquieted about them." he said, and Berin had to agree.

"There has been tension. And I can't say for sure, but I believe that our lord's frustration with his circumstances are affecting our lady as well. You recall this morning?" then Falgon looked at him.

"I do. A little more force from him, and he would have thrown me down." he mentioned, and a new realization and respect for the strength of Mount Ardor's lord struck him as his eyes examined the sentinel opposite from him. If this man had exertion against him even when wounded, what could he have done to me...? then he glanced away.

"The disappointment is mounting, in everyone. We all see it, we can all feel it; and I don't know how to remedy it. Raeghun isn't talking to me like he used to, he's quiet and reserved. Claira is quiet and reserved... Her desperate want of a child, and his anger of the situation is making things difficult." he said softly, and saw Falgon nod.

"Her lip was broken... difficult might not be the word to use." Falgon whispered, and Berin couldn't help the thoughts going through his head.

"Raeghun would never hurt Claira, Falgon. I swear it." he promised quickly, and Falgon smiled.

"I know... But for her to resort to self-harm cannot be good." he said looking up, again scanning the faces of the tavern and emptying the horn.

"Won't you try talking to him?" Berin asked, and the dark eyes came to him.

"Why me? What makes you think he'd listen to me?" he asked, surprised at the request.

"I don't know. I just... I don't know what else to do." he said, and further watched in silence as a tavern girl came over to refill their horns; and watching as she moved away Falgon's hand went around the rim of the horn again.

"I'll try. But I can't do anything more than that." he agreed, leaving Berin feeling grateful. Perhaps he might just listen to someone different. The only person who had the potential to challenge him, although he would never reach for that, and he took hold of the horn. Their second round was over lighter conversation to try and lighten themselves, but even the ale tasted old and bitter; and for a little while they just listened to the rumours floating about in the air of the inn. Some time later Berin looked into the horn, contemplating on the final taste.

"We should get going, it's getting late." Falgon mentioned as he set his horn down on the table, and Berin nodded deciding to force down what was left, and emptied the horn while his friend left a single gold coin on the flat surface before standing and replacing his sword again. Berin glanced at the coin, and then stood to follow.

"A little excessive, don't you think?" he asked, and Falgon looked back.

"They work hard." was his only reply, and Berin decided to leave it at that. He found Gavin and Saerus at a different table near the doorway.

"We're heading back. Don't cause any trouble." he informed, and Gavin laughed well sated on the tavern's ale.

"You know me, Berin. I don't cause the trouble, the trouble causes me." he joked, and Berin could share a smile.

"That's what I'm worried about." he shared, and then departed into the night air; finding Falgon awaiting him on the stone path, looking up at the many torches lighting the massive castle's walls; and he noticed it too. The way it stood out in the night, illuminated by something that might resemble magic. They way it burnt, every life, every memory a living flame on its grounds.

"They'll be al right, won't they?" he couldn't stop the question, and felt half foolish. But Falgon looked at him, smiling.

"I'm sure they will be." he said, and then a sudden disturbance changed him. Something fell, perhaps a crate or a barrel as wood met earth, and muffled voices sounded from somewhere close but concealed. He moved past Berin, towards a narrow passage between two buildings, shielded by traders vessels.

"Get the guards." he said, and left his friend recalling how he was in the woods several weeks ago; and the head of the sentinels could have sworn that his eyes followed a dark shadow settling over the tallest member of their order. Deep, dreadful and tragic. He turned, scanning the town centre and spied two guards entering from one of the pathways, immediately demanding their attendance. Falgon entered the small passage, finding a young girl with a basked knocked over at her feet and several selections of fruit rolling across the dust; and a man holding her to the wall with a slim blade over her chest. Disgust struck the sentinel's gut like a fist, and he moved forward.

"No... Please, let me go..." the girl begged, not raising her voice for fear of what the stranger might do if alarmed.

"Keep quiet now. I'll see that it's over quickly for you." he whispered, the rancid smell of sweat and ale floating from him, and then the world darkened and the man turned as Falgon's hand wrapped around his throat. The blade fell to the ground as a powerful arm hauled him up, and slammed him hard against the wall; he gasped as his feet kicked fruitlessly above reach of the ground, and the girl sank to her knees.

"Go home, girl." the sentinel ordered, and she grabbed the basked and whatever fruit was in reach before running. The shadow intensified as the sharp dark eyes cut into the man dangling against the building.

"I despise people like you. You should be thrown from a cliff by a leash, contemplating in your last moments which will be the first to snap. The rope or your neck." his fingers tightened as the man struggled against his effortless strength.

"Falgon, let him go." a familiar voice returned him, and he looked back to see Berin and two guards standing beside him, and the darkness dissolved. He released his victim, who fell to the ground gagging and gasping.

"Thank your gods, for their lenience." he said, and then turned to leave while Berin watched him move away, again mystified by him; and then looked back at the man on the ground.

"Hold him in the cells until morning, then we will decide what to do." he instructed, and waited as the assailant was taken into their custody. He rose rubbing his throat, and looked at Berin.

"Thank you." he whispered, and Berin jeered.

"I did nothing for you. But I assure you, our lord might show you more mercy than that man." he said, knowing what he could do. He had seen it, and it had haunted him for several nights until he reminded himself that he was a member of their order, of their house; of their family. He watched as the guards took him away to the cells, and then scanned the town centre finding it vacant. He sighed, and then started up the road alone back to their home; and entered deciding to check the guard's hall again where he found Falgon at his place, his eyes set on the flames.

"For such a big man, you disappear rather quickly." he teased coming over, but the sentinel's attention remained fixed on the hearth.

"I'm sorry I abandoned you there, but if I turned back..." he started, and Berin sat down next to him.

"It's al right." he eased, and the dark eyes came to him then.

"Do I owe you an explanation?" he asked, and a short pause followed before Berin turned his attention to the same flames his friend had been watching.

"No, but I wouldn't mind if you shared." he said, and heard Falgon take a deep breath before letting it out slowly; and his eyes went back to the light.

"Things like that, didn't exist for my people. Our lands bordered two countries, and we frequently saw clashes for control over its domain. As it was since the beginning, even the girls were taught how to fight; they would beat you to an inch of your life if you got on their nerves. That was how I met Ayla. My brothers and I went out hunting, and she was gathering berries for her family. Marauders from across the border happened to find her." he started to tell, and a bitter sting darted across Berin's stomach.

"She needed help?" he asked, and for a moment Falgon smiled as a memory came back to him.

"No, not then. But they certainly did. Because of her, and my mother I came to have great respect for women. They often assume roles and responsibilities that were not meant for them, and they do this without any reservation. We must protect them, to our full extent." he said, and the depth of his devotion became a shade clearer while the sorrow remained.

"What happened?" Berin asked softly, perhaps not wanting the answer.

"Years later, all my strength and skill wasn't enough. That is one of the things that angers me most; lesser men's blatant disrespect for something so special, so precious..." he said, and the bitter sting transformed into a nauseating burn through his bowels; not being able to imagine anything as horrifying as having your loved one mistreated in any way.

"I am sorry for what happened, my friend." he said, not being able to think of any way to lessen the hurt of his past.

"We all have our struggles... our shadows..." The deep voice said, soft and emotionless, and the realization struck him. The hate he had for those who would harm his family, manifested into a physical entity; a black mass that conjured over him, something that became so much more prominent when he was angered; and for the first time Berin felt a fear for the man sitting next to him. Fear, for a man he named his friend, whom he called brother...

"Falgon, I-" he started, but was cut short.

"It doesn't matter, any more." he stared at him, not accepting those words.

"Of course it does." he countered, and the dark eyes met his again.

"No, it doesn't. I told you, my past is no longer important. My future is." he said, but Berin shook his head.

"You can't have a future, without a past. Without remembering who you are." he said, seeing Falgon nod.

"I do remember who I am. But I don't care to be that again." he said, glancing away.

"I can't make you understand." he uttered softly, when Berin's hand found his shoulder.

"You don't need to." he said. He did understand, and there was nothing he was more grateful for than having him in their house; wanting to do everything in his power to make it better.

"Go on, your Milla is waiting for you." Falgon said, longing for the solace of the hall and Berin stood.

"Good night, Falgon." he greeted, and his friend looked up.

"Sleep well, my lord." he returned, and Berin left the hall up the grand staircase and into the east wing to their chamber, not being able to cast the thoughts from his head. We all have our struggles... our shadows... He softly entered their room, finding his wife still as he left her earlier. She looked up at him as he closed the door behind him and slowly started discarding his clothing.

"You didn't need to wait up for me." he said, throwing his boots next to the dresser and she smiled.

"I wanted to finish my book." she said, laying it down on the table next to her and carefully standing.

"It's that good? What's it about?" he asked as he removed the sword belt and jerkin from his body.

"A beautiful story, about a northern princess who fell in love with a southern king. And despite the world's differences, they brought people together." she told coming over to him, and her hands rested on his sides while his went around her.

"Unfortunately, those kinds of things mostly only happen in stories." he said, but she smiled.

"The stories have to come from somewhere, some people make their own." she said, and he leaned down to kiss her as his left hand came back and rested on the swell of her stomach, thinking of happier things. A sudden soft nudge made him pull back and snigger, then her hand rested on his.

"Seems he knows his father is home, and he wants a song." she whispered and they laughed. Her hands slid under his tunic to remove it, and Berin suddenly flinched to her touch on his right lowest ribs bringing concern to her clear green eyes.

"Berin?" he smiled and shook his head, not wanting to upset her, but she took hold of the fabric and lifted it to his chest, revealing a dark blemish over his right side. She stared at him, and he took her hands.

"I'm fine, just bruised." he assured and laughed softly again, remembering their session from that morning; the hard impact to his stomach.

"I didn't think he'd be that fast. That'll teach me to underestimate him..." he joked, and then kissed her again as his hands released hers, and her arms went around his neck while his circled her, and she pressed him closer.

"They'll be al right, won't they?" she asked, the concern in her voice so desperate he again couldn't stop the thoughts racing through his mind, but he held her tightly against him.

"I'm sure they will be." he assured, willing it to be an honest truth.

Morning came, and as the rich colours of sunrise changed the horizon Raeghun lay cursing on the soft mattress with his back resting against the headboard, burning as steel crimson pain stabbed at his leg and back. He had tried to stand up, but found that his body would not respond; the agony paralysing the muscles and even breathing was hard. He looked down at his wife, still at his side; grateful for the cool of her skin that eased him throughout the restless night, and gently wiped a strand of hair from her cheek. She softly moaned, his gentle touch waking her from sleep and then she flexed between the sheets to bring her muscles to life and looked up at him, her frost blue eyes still lethargic from a dream.

"I'm sorry for disrupting your night." he breathed softly, but she smiled.

"It's al right. I should get up, though." she said, wiping the lingering sleep from her eyes and turned to rise. Pulling her robe over her skin, she went to the wardrobe and pulled a black dress with silver detailing from her selections, and flat grey slippers before looking at him. The handmaidens won't enter in his presence, so she would have to make due on her own. This was a recitation of many millennia, one showing respect. She took a side laced corset from her drawer as she discarded the robe, and loosened the cords just enough to pull it over her hips and secured it around her body before fitting her soft under-dress, and then looked at her husband who was staring out of the window overlooking the Sunset Sea on their west side.

"I'll ask Metron to attend to the court matters today." she said and pulled the dress over her skin, fastening the back laces as best she could before smoothing down the fabric and pulling the slippers over her feet. She took the brush from the top of the dresser, and pulled the bristles through her thick hair.

"Just give me a moment..." he said, and she came over to him after replacing the brush and bringing the strands back from her brow and fastening them with a jewelled pin, then ran her hand over the sheets still covering his feet, sensing the quiver of the strained muscles through the fabric. He had suffered a difficult and painful night, and even now it had not lessened; otherwise he would have risen for his day before her, as was his norm.

"I think you should stay here today." she urged, and his eyes met hers.

"I can't. I won't get better if I just lie around." he said, the blue of his eyes hard and frustrated.

"You won't get better if you keep straining yourself, either." she countered.

"There's nothing wrong with me, if there are matters to attend to I will do it myself." he said

"Raeghun, you need time to heal. Maester Adlyn told you to rest for a few days, at least." she reminded him, and his face changed to anger.

"He is not at liberty to give me orders, and neither are you!" he dictated, and her hands clenched into fists.

"I'm not giving you orders. But I need you to consider-" she started, feeling flames lick at her heart.

"I will not. I will not consider it. If I stay here I will lose my fucking mind; what kind of man am I if I just idle around?" he asked, and the flames turned to a blaze.

"To all the hells with what they think! You're lucky to still have the use of your leg after what happened, you took a bolt to your chest that was fortunate not to have killed you; and if they don't have any consideration for your state they can all go and kiss a fat horse's ass. Then they're worse than those who attacked you." he sat forward, struggling through the agony.

"I won't just sit here. I won't be weak!" she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself.

"And I'm done arguing with you about it. You are injured, not weak. I'll have maester Adlyn tend to you." she promised, then turned to the door quickly slipping through it and closing it behind her, in the moment before it shut she heard something metal crash against the wall and her husband crying out, a harrowing mixture of pain and frustration. She lay her hand against the wood of the door, debating on whether to return but decided against it. I can't help you, if you won't let me... She moved down the stairway past the doors to the vacant chambers and through the lord's hall, feeling as empty as it was. She passed through the great door, to find the handmaidens in the hallway whom all greeted her politely, but it seemed that her sentinel was late this morning.

"Good morning, everyone. You may start with the chores, but please leave my lord husband to his rest." she instructed, and they acknowledged her before entering. She stood in the hallway, wondering what to do; and then heard heavy footfalls come up the passage before turning and Berin appeared around the curve leading down past the Hollow to the Hall of Fire. He smiled when he saw her, and bowed formally as he reached her.

"Good morning, my lady. I trust you had a good evening?" he greeted, and she glanced away from him.

"Good morning, Berin. I believe your evening would have been better. Is your dear wife up yet?" she said softly,

"I'm afraid not. She's feeling a bit off this morning." and his eyes went to the door.

"How is he?" he asked, and she sighed grateful for the fact that there was no need to don any pretences in front of him; a man that knew her husband so well.

"He tries to hide it, but he's in a lot of pain. I... I should ask the maester to tend to him." she told softly, and Berin nodded.

"He's trying to stay strong." he assured, but she almost felt her heart breaking for him.

"I don't know why he keeps doing this... If I could help him, I would. If I could take this all away from him... I would..." her left hand went to her face, feeling the sting to her eyes and Berin looked at her.

"Are you al right?" he asked, and the stinging turned to a burn to her cheeks and she covered her face with her hands, fighting against the sensation.

"I want to help him... If only I knew how..." she breathed desperately, and then felt arms go around her, warm and comforting in the chaos they were thrown into as his hands softly stroked her back.

"Don't worry, Claira. Everything will be fine, you'll see." he eased softly, and for a moment they remained like this while she scolded herself.

"I'm so sorry, I shouldn't be like this. I should be strong, like he is..." she whispered, and felt the gentle motions as he sniggered.

"I don't mind. And even the strong need a hand sometimes." he said, and then pulled back from her.

"Or a shoulder." he added as he looked at her. She smiled, his kindness bringing ease to her.

"We might not be related, but we're family. We support each other, no matter what the circumstances are." he said, and she took that in.

"Thank you. I should go. You can go see him, if you want." she allowed, and he spared another glance at the door.

"I really shouldn't. None without blood-ties to the Taugere family enters the lord's wing." he mentioned, and she scoffed. Except for those in its service; or unless specifically instructed to do so.

"I am giving you permission, Berin. You just said we're family; and besides it may ease him somewhat." she said, and he nodded.

"Al right. I'll come by a little bit later on. I was heading up to the maester, some of the pages are going to Garde's Post and I thought I might enquire if he is in need of anything." he said, and she turned towards the maester's tower.

"I'll do it. You can get back to your routine. And then I'll see to the kitchens and the hall." she said, bringing a strange look from him.

"Are you sure?" she could find another small smile.

"Yes. Off you go." she urged, and made her way to the maester's tower where she ascended the spiralling steps to his chamber, and found him at his table reading a scroll.

"Good morning." she greeted, and he looked up at her before smiling and standing.

"Good morning, my lady. What may I do for you?" he asked eagerly, and she approached.

"Maester Adlyn, would you tend to my husband, please? He has quite a degree of discomfort, and perhaps something to help him sleep. He had a difficult night." she asked, and he brought his hands together.

"Of course, my lady." he agreed as his eyes studied her, taking in every characteristic, each seeming foreign to her ordinarily composed features.

"You look tired as well. Shall I give you something?" he asked, and a sheen of pink came to her cheeks.

"I'll be fine, thank you maester." she assured him.

"Very well, my lady. But whenever you are in need of anything, you are most welcome." he invited as he placed a hand to her arm.

"Oh, yes. Some of our members are going to the village. Is there anything you need from the herbalist's?" she asked, and he thought for a moment.

"There are some items that are running low. If my lady would be so kind as to grant me a moment, I will draw up a quick list." he asked, and she nodded.

"Of course." he turned and headed back to his desk, quickly scribbling on a note and bringing it over to her.

"This should suffice." he said as she took the note, and scanned the contents. Basil, Chamomile, Echinacea, Feverfew, Lavender, Lemon Balm, Marigold, Nightshade and Poppy Seeds.

"I'll have it brought to you at the soonest." she said as she folded the note in her hand.

"Thank you, my lady." he said as he bowed, and then she left down the stairs and through the halls. Her first task was to hand the maester's note to the group waiting at the door to depart for Garde's Post before heading to the kitchens where she arranged with cook Jeody for their morning meal of eggs, crisped bacon strips, sweetened porridge and fruit with tea; also giving instruction that a tray be delivered to the lord's wing for her husband, and then her attention went to the preparation of the hall, seeing that the space was cleaned and the tables were set, and fresh flowers brought from the garden for them while the halls became increasingly livelier as their members emerged from their apartments. She tried to keep herself as busy as she could think of, to keep the depressing thoughts from her mind, but as it was they found a way in. Perhaps I should just go, take my Brazier and disappear for a while. Get away from everything...

"Good morning, my lady. My apologies for attending you so late." she heard a voice behind her, and turned to see Gavin looking a bit paler than usual, with a darkness set under his eyes.

"Are you al right?" he laughed.

"Yes, my lady. A bit swivelled, but I'm fine." he assured, and she shook her head.

"Go lie down a little bit longer. You may rejoin my company later." she said, and his hand went to the hilt of his sword, fastened to his waist.

"It is my duty to guard you, my lady. Your lord husband will have me hanged if I discard my obligation." he tried,

"I'm not going anywhere, Gavin. As long as I am within these walls, nothing can happen to me. Now go." she instructed, and despite knowing it was a direct order from the lord and that they meant well, she wished they would stop fussing about her all the time. He stared at her for a moment longer, and then bowed to her before returning to the barracks. After ensuring that all was set for their morning, she sought out their court master to ask him to attend any matters that were in need of resolution, then decided to pay her friend a visit. She went up to the east wing and through its long halls to their chamber, and softly knocked on the door before Milla's soft voice called her inside. She passed through to find her at the foot of their bed while Aurelne helped smooth down the soft purple rose-patterned fabric of a loosely fitting dress, and the other two handmaidens making the bed and gathering discarded clothing from a basket.

"Good morning." She greeted as she closed the door behind her, and Milla smiled.

"Good morning, my lady." she returned, freeing her hair from the dress collar as Aurelne brought a white lace sash around her waist and fastened it behind her back, letting it rest between the curve of her abdomen and chest.

"How are you feeling?" Claira asked as she came over, and Milla turned towards her while Aurelne brought the brush from her dresser.

"Oh, I'm fine. A little tired, that's all. I got to finish my book." she assured waiting as her handmaiden gently pulled the bristles through her hair, and Claira felt relieved at that.

"That's good. I was afraid you might be sick." she mentioned through a smile.

"No, luckily not. It seems that has passed." Milla added gratefully.

"Shall we take to the garden before cook Jeody serves?" Claira asked, and Milla nodded.

"Yes, I would like that." she agreed, and then waved Aurelne away, not having her bother with styling her long strands; then they left the chamber and the maidens to continue their work.

"And you? Is Raeghun doing al right?" Milla asked in the privacy of the hall.

"He had a sleepless night, due to the pain. I hope he'll heed maester Adlyn's advice and stay in bed, at least for today. He's so stubborn." she said, and Milla sniggered.

"Men are like that. But I'm sure things will get better." she said, her hands resting on the round of her stomach.

"I truly hope so. I... I don't want another morning like this one." Claira said softly, and Milla paused.

"Did you quarrel?" concern darkened her bright green eyes.

"A little. I didn't mean to, I just... I want him to get better. I need him to..." Milla's hands went to her arms.

"He will. He is more impatient than anyone else, and he needs to give himself that time. He will realize that soon enough." she said, and they proceeded further down the hall to the gardens. The day proceeded as most others, and the decision was made to send the villager who attacked the girl to The Wall, alternate to taking his life. The ladies spent the afternoon in her common room, where Claira added more flowers to her basket, Alstroemeria, and sweet Alyssum with their delicate petals; but it still felt empty, and she decided even more was needed. Finally after supper, she returned to their chamber, and silently slipped through the door finding her husband asleep, a selection of small vials on the table next to him; and a silver pitcher on the floor against the wall, the metal object she heard crashing against the stone this morning when she left. She breathed softly, and rummaged through her dresser, and pulled a light yellow gown from the drawer before returning to the bath chamber to cleanse herself. She stood in the water, allowing the water to spill over her shoulders as she stood thinking of their home and all in it. Things will get better... It will... After lathering herself, and rinsing it off with the sweet smelling waters she dried herself and dressed before returning to their chamber and laying down on the bed beside Raeghun, covering herself with the sheets and positioning herself against his fervent skin. Because of his natural warmth, it was difficult to tell whether he was feverish or not; but she thanked the gods that her husband never fell ill and closed her eyes, taking in the feel of him, his heat, the strength of him that lay dormant. Then she felt his right arm slide around her waist, his hand finally resting on her stomach and her hand went to his as she smiled blithely, nudging herself slightly closer to him, then felt him move and his mouth branded a kiss to her shoulder before his breath went over her neck.

"I love you." he whispered, and she slightly turned her head.

"I love you. Sleep now." she returned, and his arm tightened around her before she lay her head on the pillows, and they slowly surrendered to sleep.

Aurelne stood rummaging through her dresser, searching for something fitting to wear. Lady Milla mentioned that she finished her book, and she might be in need of a new one. This may be an ideal opportunity to seek out ser Falgon as he was a particularly fond reader, she had often spied him taking his route to and from maester Adlyn's tower, each time with at least several different books. She pulled a gown of powder pink, delicate and flowing just dense enough not to be transparent then pulled it over her figure and fastened the back lace to express her seductive figure as she thought of him. She'd seen him a hundred times, and each time she did it left a tickling up her spine. The way he looked, the way he moved, his deep gentle voice, his earthen smell, his dark captivating eyes... she desired him, she wanted every thing about him, so much so that she envied the lady of the hold that he was so connected to her. She entered the service of Mount Ardor as the court maiden's personal aid at fifteen two years ago, leaving her mother's night inn for something different and connected well with its people; especially the men. She grew up in testosterone flooded company, knew all of their comforts and how to manage them. But in all her years, no man had haunted her mind as much as the tall, powerful Sentinel of Flame. He may believe that his sole intent was to be at her side, but she could give him a different reason, an offer no man would contradict. Her hand went to her chest, imagining his fingers against her, his lips over hers, his bare skin to hers; and a mad moment of his strength inside her, and her own sharp voice against his neck as the tingling spread into her stomach and her mother's words came back to her. No man refuses what is offered on open hands. She freed her hair from the strap around her neck holding the dress bodice snugly over her full breasts, then pulled fine leather sandals over her feet before looking over herself a final time to ensure she was appealing and glancing out the small window of her room, glimpsing the colour of sunrise. She left her room heading for the barracks, seeing only a few members already in the halls. She flitted up the steps into the halls where the guards chambers were and men in armour moved up and down exchanging their rounds, some retiring to bed after a long night, and others heading to replace them, to the third level where the sentinels lay themselves down at night. She passed the rooms, some open some closed to the room at the furthest point, and paused in front of the door when she noticed the shadow inside, feeling her heartbeat change. She took a deep breath, and then stepped forward into the arch of the door that led to his chamber which held a wardrobe, a small table and chair beside a worn carpet, a red banner on its right wall and an old faded shield hung on the wall in front of her, a small brazier in the corner and a fur bed under a window, where she saw him sitting on the edge of the bed, already dressed in his leather breeches, pale tunic, mail armour and brown doublet; while pulling on his boots, the chest belt waiting on the furs beside him and his cloak hung on the corner of the wardrobe and his great sword leaning against the wall next to it. Judging from his wet hair, he had just come from bathing.

"Good morning, ser." she greeted, trying to stifle the fluttering in her bowels and he looked up at her; his dark eyes clear and gentle.

"Good morning, Aurelne." he returned, and went back to making himself presentable.

"Lady Milla asked that I enquire about a book from you." she said as she entered the room and he stood, taking the chest belt and bringing it around his chest and over his right shoulder to fasten it.

"Shall I help you with that?" she asked, and he chuckled as his hands effortlessly locked the belt to his body.

"No, thank you. Was there something in particular she wanted?" he asked as he turned towards her, and for a moment she drowned in his solid and striking stare.

"She... she didn't say..." she mumbled, and he moved past her to the little table which held three books. He picked one up, the cover fine details of red and gold "A King's Dawn".

"I won't know if she has read this one before, but she might enjoy it." he said as he turned, and held out the book to her. It was still in very good condition, seeming almost new and she slowly took it, trying to hide the quiver of her fingers.

"Thank you." she said, and he bowed his head before turning. She watched him as he went to the wardrobe to retrieve his cloak, and she replaced the book on the table before moving forward, bringing her hands up and running her fingernails tantalizingly down the backs of his powerful arms with an expectant smile, but then the grin faded. Normally her touch would bring a man's skin to life, rising it in reflex; but now there was nothing. Not even a slight shiver to her touch.

"Is there something else you needed?" he asked, taking the cloak from the corner of the wardrobe and turning as he brought it around his shoulders.

"I didn't come for the book." she said softly, looking up at his indifferent face.

"Then why did you?" he asked, glancing away and taking the grip of his sword, bringing it to its place on his back, and she stepped closer to him bringing her hands to his chest.

"Don't you know?" she asked, bringing herself closer to him; then he took her hands and leaned slightly forward and her breath caught in her throat as she stared at him. Kiss me...

"I have duties to attend to." he said softly, and brought her hands away from him; the disappointment cutting into her like arrow heads.

"Falgon." she tried, but he stepped back and released her.

"If you'll please pardon me." again he bowed his head, then turned and left the room, his heavy footfalls moving further and further down the hallway while she stood, thinking she might have been a bit too subtle for such a reserved man. Soon, I have time. But I will have you.. He moved through the hold to the lord's wing where he took his place beside the door to await his queen, three girls stood on the other side, and he could hear them whispering, one giggled as the others blushed and he smiled, reflecting on their girlishness. The silliness of youth... A while later the door opened, and the lord stepped out, dressed in black breeches, grey boots and a beige shirt, supporting himself on the walking aid. The girls acknowledged him, and then moved respectfully past him into the wing to start their duties, and he turned to Falgon.

"Good morning, sire. I am relieved to see that you have risen." he greeted as he bowed to him formally.

"Good morning, ser. My alleviation is small, but there is improvement." he mentioned, the disappointment not so subtle in his voice, but Falgon eased him.

"Forward is forward, sire. Backwards is a concern." he said, and Raeghun smiled.

"Yes. And I must keep moving." he agreed, his voice easier than before.

"Of course. But may I advise that you move slowly for the time being. Your mind is strong and wilful, but your body does not act as fast as your thoughts." he said, making Raeghun scoff.

"You would have me dally about the castle for the rest of my days?" he asked, but Falgon's eyes remained with his.

"No, sire. But I promise that patience will be rewarding. Do what you must, but grant yourself the time to mend. Everything will return to the way it was, I assure you." he urged, and Raeghun nodded looking down.

"You're a very diligent man yourself, aren't you?" he sounded almost envious, and Falgon shrugged.

"It is something taught by time." he mentioned, and Raeghun breathed a sigh of acceptance.

"Al right. I'll try." he agreed again, and then slowly started down the hallway in a strained walk.

"My wife should come down soon, we will meet you in the southern hall." he said, and Falgon acknowledged that; hoping that some of his words would be remembered at least. Some time later she emerged, dressed in turquoise silk with gold hemlines and a white petal centre piece; her hair braided and draped over her right shoulder.

"Good morning, your grace. You look endearing today." he complimented, noting she seemed more at ease, and she slightly blushed as she smiled and closed the door.

"Good morning, ser. Thank you, for your courtesy." she said as she turned, but again she sounded weary, and the sleeplessness showed in her beautiful blue eyes.

"Would you consider resting a little while longer, your grace?" he proposed, but she folded her hands in front of her.

"I'll be fine. Shall we start our day?" she asked, and he stepped aside to allow her to pass.

"As you wish." And so the day passed, and seeped into night, and more days as time passed like it did and finally three new sentinels were accepted into their order. Wymon, Renko and Hilfert; young, energetic and auspicious, they conformed well to their new roles. To everyone's relief, the lord of the hold at the very least attempted to remain calm, and slowly took up more activities. But the lameness remained...

She stood watching the blue of the ocean through the window of their chamber, the light of a late sunrise lighting their room as a tear trailed down her face. A fortnight had passed since she met with their maester, and accepted his advice. Her hands pressed against her abdomen, hating everything. She hated the pain in her stomach, the cause of a new bloom. She hated the girdle secured around her waist; holding her effects in place. She hated the dark red dress that hugged her body, hated a body that refused to change no matter how many times it was filled with the future of their name. She hated the faces in their hall, the stares and the voices that were quickly strangled when she entered a room. It's taking longer than expected... She hated the kitchens, and whatever they used that may affect her ability. Perhaps she is suffering complications... She hated her sisters, who could have their wishes so easily. Does he even share her bed? She hated Maester Adlyn, and his insufferable advices. Do you suppose she may be barren? She hated her best friend, whose child will be the noble name born within these walls. The fault could not be his. She hated her husband, who denied her this one wish... And then she hated herself more than anything, more than anyone. You do realize, that if you are unable to bear him any sons, you're of no use to him. Your great house, will end with you. She tried to smother her sobs, and wrapped her arms around herself, again cursing fate as the agony tore at her. It wasn't the physical pain that bothered her as much, but the frigid excruciation that seeped into her being; the deep lonely emptiness... There was no point in praying any more, the new ones didn't listen; and if the old could not see her, then they could not hear her. Why? Why am I being left behind? She heard the door open behind her, and the telling thud of the cane enter along with footsteps.

"There you are. Cook Jeody has served, everyone is waiting on you." Raeghun's voice met her, and she held her breath for a moment to drown her emotions.

"I'm sorry... I don't feel like facing people today." she said softly, and heard him come closer.

"Are you feeling sick?" he asked, running his hand down her arm.

"No. I just won't be good company." she said, and heard him sigh, his breath warm on her shoulder.

"Try coming down anyway." he urged, and then turned to go back the way he came.

"My lord…" he paused, and looked back at her. It had been a long time since she addressed him formally; and the sensation that what would follow was not of good nature pulled at him.

"I am sorry, that I am so worthless." she said softly, not turning to face him.

"You're not worthless." he said simply, and her eyes returned to the blue horizon, wishing for its freedom.

"Would it not be easier, to throw myself from the Sun Tower? You will be free to marry again, to a good wife who may give you sons and daughters." she proposed, bringing the sting of severe cold to his face. Why? Why this, too?

"You're being ridiculous, Claira." he reproved, and then she turned; her eyes reddened by tears.

"Am I? Everyone here hates me." she said, her lips pulling in a resentful grimace, and he took a step towards her. But rather than feel the compassion he wished for, it enraged him.

"That's not true." he countered, and saw yet another tear trailing down her flustered cheeks.

"I can see them staring at me, I can hear them whispering..." she mentioned, bringing the heat from him.

"Those whispers are in your head." he said, and she looked at him.

"Sometimes I wish they were. It would be easier, if I believed that I were insane." she turned back to the window, the situation not bettering as he'd wanted for it; the frustration of both of their situations battling each other like the swirls of frost and flame they were, each overpowering the other; but rather than provoking the cyclone of their unstable emotions he decided that it might be better to retreat and leave the matter to ease itself over time. Or at the very least, just for now.

"I will hear no more of this. You are seeing, and hearing things that don't exist. Spend the day here, if you will; but it is a discussion that I will not continue." he said, then turned and left their chamber again; and she stood watching the blue outside, thinking it may have been against her better judgement to blurt out her feelings on her state to him with the situation being what it is; and if he couldn't understand, then he wouldn't. She sat down on the chest next to the window, still watching the waters, and thinking of how miserable she felt. Nothing seemed to make sense any more, nothing would brighten the darkness she felt around her, nothing would lighten her burden. Even the thought of happiness seemed far away, some distant star in the chaos of a dark and clouded sky. She was happy for Milla, of course. But hearing her speak of her little one, hearing her laugh whenever she felt his movements; seeing her grow, seeing her glow, like a little sun moving through their halls left a sting to her heart. A bitter sting of envy that she hated. Her friend received this wonderful gift within the first week of her union, so effortlessly; while she was left deprived these many years later and still longing. She lay her head on her arm, resting on the frame of the window staring at the stone as the thoughts came and went like the hours that dragged the sun higher into the sky, and at some point she closed her eyes trying to imagine what a different life might look like, but the images were faded, like trying to look at something with the sun in her eyes. There was nothing in that future. Not even a smiling face... A soft knock at the door brought her back to their chamber, and she took in the surroundings. The wide bed under black and red silks, soft gold curtains hanging from the canopy posts. The hearth in the opposite wall next to the balcony that overlooked the east of their country with the small table and chairs in front of it, on a faded carpet. The many dressers and wardrobes and chests, the once ferocious lion's head above the door that separated her from whomever sought entry, and then the soft knock sounded again and she turned her face away so her eyes would meet the blue of the outside again. Please, just leave me... Then she heard the door slowly open and close before soft footsteps came towards her, and warm caring hands lay on her back.

"Claira, are you al right?" she took a deep breath, and then looked up to see Milla standing beside her, her clear eyes wrought with concern. She quickly looked away to shield her eyes, and brought a hand over her cheek, still feeling the sensation of tears on her skin.

"I'm fine. Just a little uncomfortable." she assured as she sat up.

"Shall I fetch the maester for you?" she asked, and Claira shook her head.

"No, leave him. I'm sure he has things to do." she said, and Milla moved to stand in front of her.

"May I ask you to join me in the common room, my lady? I would be grateful for your company, or your presence at least." she asked, and Claira looked up at her again, and for some reason she couldn't rid herself of the feeling of loneliness, even one that was not her own.

"Very well." she stood up from the chest, and they slowly made their way down the stairs and through the hall.

"You haven't eaten anything yet, have you?" Milla asked as they passed in front of the hearth.

"That's al right. I'm not hungry." the thought of food left an odd twist in her stomach, and then Milla smiled as she glanced at her.

"You might be, if you saw what was served this noon." Noon... Have I been here all that time? But even realizing it had been that long didn't prompt her appetite.

"Really? I might enquire with Jeody some other time." she decided, and then they passed through the door.

"There was quite a bit of meat left over from last night and he tried something new, so there might not be 'some other time'. He called it 'stuffed crusts'." Milla mentioned, and they found Falgon waiting outside as per his usual standard, and Claira looked up at him.

"Have you been here all morning?" she asked, rather surprised at his presence and his eyes met hers.

"Yes, your grace." he confirmed, and a moment of silence followed. She had dismissed her handmaidens, and those that took care of the wing earlier this morning; perhaps he did notice her desire for solitude.

"Why?" he turned, and bowed formally.

"It is my place, as instructed. But if you desire my absence, of course I will leave." he said, and she looked away. Chained to his loyalty, he remained long after they had gone. Waiting in the hallway like a silent shadow until he might be needed.

"I didn't mean it like that..." she said softly, but he smiled.

"It's al right." he eased, and Milla called for the attention of a passing scullion. Claira could hear her whispering to her, and then smiled as the girl flitted off down the hallway before Milla returned to her side.

"Shall we proceed to your common room, my lady? Some tea will be brought to us there." she recommended, and Claira nodded. They made their way up into the sun tower, and settled in the comfortable chairs in front of the hearth, taking up their embroidery and continuing their work. Claira added more flowers to her basket, daisies and pansies... but nothing she added seemed to make her basket seem fuller; and she found herself trying to bring up more flowers that she remembered. Maybe some honeysuckle, or a snapdragon or two... A serving girl entered with a tray holding a pot of tea and a plate of fresh crispels, and another plate holding what would be cook Jeody's new 'stuffed crust'. It was so simple, yet seemed so delightful as the girl brought the tray to Claira first. The 'stuffed crust' was a heel of bread, hollowed out and filled with what seemed to be softly cooked meat strips in a glistening sauce. The inside edges were lined with green leaves and diced up pieces of tomato, and two thin slices of white cheese rested on the meat. Claira looked at Milla.

"Thank you, Milla. This looks delicious, but you really didn't need to send someone for me." she said, and Milla laughed softly.

"If you like the look of it, you'll like the taste even more." she promised, and Claira took the plate while laying her embroidery hoop on the armrest. Then she brought the crust slowly to her mouth and took a small bite, reflecting on the taste. It was indeed pleasing, but the weight struggled its way down to her stomach and ended up being rather spurned; then the serving girl returned to her with a cup of tea which she took after placing the crust on the table next to her. She took a small sip, but was met with the same disdain to its taste. Nothing has been going right the past few days... There has been immeasurable tension in their home for a while now, and it clung to everyone. She placed the cup down next to the crust, and retook her hoop to continue her work.

"Is the taste not to your liking?" Milla asked softly, and Claira looked up at her with a soft smile.

"It's wonderful. But I'll finish it later." she said, and resumed her stitching while the day passed, mostly in silence, but despite her earlier reservations she was grateful for the comfort of company, the consolation of life near her. A little past dusk, Aurelne entered the common room to announce that the evening banquet will be served soon, and they stood to depart the common room. As they left, Milla glanced at the plate and cup still standing on the table beside Claira's chair, they hadn't been touched... The crust and the tea still identical to how she left them this afternoon, and it left her worried that her friend had all but lost her appetite, and the question rose that for some reason she was depriving her body of required nourishing. She glanced at the sentinel at his post on the other side of the door, and then he followed as they walked down the hallways and Milla couldn't help staring at the lady in front of her. She'd always been slim, a frail almost fragile little thing; and she'd felt protective of her since they were very small, and she remembered the day they met vaguely. She and her family visited Pale Haven for lord Willmon's eight and twentieth name day, many other high-born families came as well. It was a grand affair, and everyone was joyous. The Grey Tom met them in the great hall along with his wife, and a new-born son in her arms, welcoming them happily, she could still remember him smiling, his silvery-blue eyes glinting like stars; and then she noticed the tiny little girl behind him. She remembered looking up at her own father, both green eyes clear and happy as he nodded in approval. Then she approached the girl with a happy smile. "Hello, I'm Milla. What is your name?" she greeted, and the girl looked at her, blue eyes clear and striking as the rime. "Claira..." her voice was soft like chimes, and a rose blush found her pale cheeks. "Do you want to play?" she smiled then, and nodded. Then they took hands, and it seems they never really let go these many years later, and she recalled how things changed. They grew up, they changed, their roles changed, and their entire worlds changed. She paused as Claira stopped in front of the door leading to the lord's wing.

"Are you not joining us, my lady?" Milla asked, and Claira looked at her.

"Not tonight. I'm tired, and long for some time in the bath to ease the ache in me. I will join you again tomorrow." she said, reaching for the door.

"Shall I have a serving girl bring a portion up to you?" the soft groan of the heavy door sounded through the vacant space.

"No, I'm afraid I'll just waste it." Milla couldn't ignore the feeling of anxiety rising in her core.

"Claira, you need to eat something. You haven't taken more than two bites of anything in..." How long? Two days? Three? Claira's eyes met her as she started to move into their sanctuary.

"I'll be fine, Milla. I'll have an apple before going to bed." 'An apple, is not food!' she wanted to yell at her, and a completely absurd thought to tie her to a chair and force one of Jeody's mutton pies into her flickered in her thoughts; but she forced the notion away along with the scream as she bit into the side of her cheek, watching her friend prepare to close the door.

"Enjoy your evening. Good night." she greeted them both, and they returned her wishes for a peaceful evening before the door silently shut, and for a moment Milla only stared, lost in thought with her hand resting on her stomach in response to a soft series of surges. I know, I'm worried about her, too...

"Shall I accompany you to the feast hall, my lady?" she looked up at Falgon's dark eyes, and nodded.

"That would be nice, thank you ser." they left down the hall, the flickering of the torches throwing light and shadow over the stone walls, and the heavy footfalls next to her echoing through the space as they walked; but the feeling of depression deepened. She looked up at Falgon, wishing she could absorb his calmness, but he too was still and she couldn't think of anything to say. They passed through the Hall of Fire, hearing the voices and the sound of a flute from the southern hall as they neared, then he stopped at the doorway and bowed to her.

"I trust you may find your husband awaiting you, my lady." he said, and she turned to him.

"You aren't joining us, either?" she asked, and he smiled.

"No, my lady. I might take this opportunity to return the maester's books to him, and find some new ones." he said, and she sighed.

"Al right. Good night, Falgon." she greeted.

"Sleep well, my lady." he turned and left towards the barracks, and she entered the feast hall to take her place beside Berin at the high table, and Raeghun's attention came to her from his conversation with Austinus.

"Good evening, lady Milla. Have you seen my wife?" he enquired,

"I'm afraid she will not be joining us tonight, my lord. She has mentioned that she is feeling somewhat drained." she reported, and he simply nodded and returned his attention to his previous conversation. The evening continued in their hall, where they supped on herb stuffed goat roast, carrots, mushrooms, buttered potatoes, spiced bell peppers, some cheese and milk before each returning to their chambers for the remainder of the evening. Milla and Berin went to their chamber, and after a warm bath she lay on the bed with a book open in front of her while waiting for him. But the words were simply dark blotches on the parchment, and she found herself incapable of discerning the one phrase from the next. Berin lay himself down on the bed beside her, and ran his hand over her leg.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, and she slowly nodded.

"I'm al right..." but the tone of her voice would not agree as she battled the sting to her eyes. Then his hand went to her stomach, gently tracing the round curve.

"He's been quiet today." he mentioned with a smile, and the sting became a burn as she threw the book down on the floor and buried her face in her hands with a sob, and he stared at her utterly confused.

"This is so unfair!" she cried and he sat up.

"Milla?" the tears left warm trails down her face, and his hand rubbed her back softly.

"It should have been different. This should have been hers, long ago. Berin, it's been almost four years; she wants this so much... they've been trying, so hard... I... I can't..." she sobbed, and his arms went around her as he comforted her.

"Oh, my Milla. Don't cry, it will be al right." she leaned against him, burying her face against his shoulder.

"Claira will have the chance to play that part, if it cannot be for her own then for ours if it is needed." she looked up at him, he seemed so positive.

"Our child will grow up here, he will know Raeghun and Claira as family." he said with a gentle smile, she she lay herself against him again, feeling calmer than before.

"But he won't be a Taugere..." she whispered, and felt the soft motions of laughter from his chest.

"That doesn't matter. Raeghun's father once told us, as young boys; that family is not restricted to names, or even blood. He said that 'the strongest chains, are those forged in the fires of battle'." he mentioned, and her eyes went to the flame of a candle on the dresser. Forged in the fires of battle?

"We aren't fighting in a war..." she reminded him, and he leaned back onto the bed with her still in his arms.

"That's what we said. And you know what he told us?" her eyes came to his again.

"He told us, that battle doesn't necessarily mean swords and bloodshed. Each person battles, each day. Against anxiety, loneliness, illness, frustration, it is not the battlefield that you see that has the power to destroy you, it's one inside that is hidden, the one no one knows about and most people don't dare to reveal to others. It is those that stand at your side throughout those battles, that are family." her arm went around his waist as she softly whispered his name, realizing that he understood so well what she felt, and she moved herself closer to him. And a sudden deep desire to have known the great lord Rychard Taugere gently enveloped her.

"What was he like?" she asked, and he shared with her his memories.

Raeghun made his way strenuously up to the lord's wing, thinking of the less than empty day. He had taken to sparring again a few days ago, and to his frustration kept it slow and to his best, not emphatic. The pain came and went, but the weakness lingered. He wanted a sense of normality again, wanted to move the way he used to, wanted to accomplish things the way he used to, wanted the freedom of his own strength again; everything else was a burden, and more kept coming up. He moved up the steps to their chamber, and finally discarded his aid next to the door against a small dresser, a green apple left on its surface with a single bite taken from it. He looked over to the bed, regarding the figure between the sheets; and wished he could do more, then he moved forward slowly discarding his clothing and joining her on the mattress carefully as not to wake her as he lay down at her side, relishing the cool of her skin. He lay watching her, the strands of black and white flowing along each other in soft waves down the length of her back, and gently ran his fingers over the soft hair, the tips still wet from her bath. He wanted to kiss her, but decided against it and leave her to her rest rather than ignite a fire and further deprive her of her slumber, something she was in desperate need of, and then he cursed himself. I don't know, how to make it better... He closed his eyes, and slowly drifted away into a dream while some hours she woke with her husband beside her, his back towards her. The fire in the hearth and torches had died down to small flames, and she looked to the window to see the deep dark of night. It may have been close to midnight, she lay her head down and closed her eyes but sleep would not find her as her mind ran rampant with thoughts and she finally decided to better find something that might tire her out again. She stood and rummaged through the wardrobe, pulling a dark dress over herself after fitting a new girdle and then silently slipped out of the chamber and moved down the stairs through the hall and wondering if she might find maester Adlyn still awake. The hallway was vacant, and she softly closed the door behind her before moving to his tower and heading up the little steps. She entered the arch, and scanned the chamber, which too was empty, the maester in all likelihood having retired for the night. She sighed, and headed back down, then decided to try and continue her embroidery for a little while and headed up the steps to her common room where she found her hoop still on the armrest of her chair where she left it. She stared at the work, all the different shapes and colours all meshed together on the brown weaves of a basket; but it still felt empty... It's too dark to work on this now, I'll either prick myself or make a mess of it... She replaced the hoop and headed down the hallways, towards the Hall of Fire, the interior of the castle vacant as all the guards were either asleep or outside on their rounds. She stood in front of the great hearth, its light almost reaching the enormous doorway that led outside. The arch leading to the southern hall was dark, as was the smaller door leading into the kitchen, the only other light emitting from the guard's hall in the barracks. There's no way anyone would let me leave on a ride, now... she headed down the grand staircase, and paused at its base as her eyes met another door to her left, a still burning torch visible through the arch; a door used mainly for darker occasions. I haven't been down there in a long time... she turned, and moved towards it, her soft footsteps emitting through the immense empty hall; and she followed the torches down into the earth that was under the great hold. Twenty steps down she moved through a long hallway, passing another dark arch leading east to the vaults where those awaiting the lord's judgement was held, and further she went to another stairway spiralling down further into the earth another sixty steps down. This was a lonely, cold place; but she didn't feel uncomfortable here. Not tonight. Not like she used to. Claira entered the chamber, dark shadows dancing on the walls where a torch lit the space here and there. She wandered aimlessly for a time, and then found herself standing at the foot of a wide arch where a stone sarcophagus stood, and a marble chest waited alongside it; a familiar name carved along the edge.

"My sweet, gentle girl..." the sting of sorrow went through her chest as she sat down on the lid, running her fingers along the curve.

"I miss you, so much. I long for just once, that your clear eyes would meet mine, that your soft touch would caress my skin... Even you, were better than me. How I wish you could see, how strong your sons have become. Sash is the alpha, and Blitz is our best hunter. Axe is old, but he still keeps watch over our home." she told as she stroked the chest beneath her, a tear trailing down her cheek, and she thought back to that day.

"They're so brave, just like you were..." It was a clear day, and they went out riding, perhaps around a month or two after Mae left for the Reach. On their way back, a bear happened upon their company. The great black beast came at her, startling her horse; and as it reared up she fell to the ground, shadowed by the creature. She didn't remember much, only that her usually timid flock-hound stood in front of her growling at the bear, challenging it. She had never seen her Oda as fierce as on that day. Shadows circled her, and in the moment the bear came forward Oda did the same, planting a deep bite to its leg. Another tear trailed down her face, she remembered screaming as strong hands hauled her up onto a black horse, and watching as the enraged bear struck her beloved dog, and white daggers pierced her neck and blood blackened white fur.

"It must have been hard, leaving this world for the next..." The sentinels killed the bear, but it was too late to save Oda, who died later that evening from her wounds.

"But we have something left of you, at least..." then her eyes went up to the stone of the sarcophagus, and her hand ran along its edge.

"I made a promise... and... and I can't keep it... You should hate me. You should have accepted another. You should have accepted lord Coder's proposal... I wish that things weren't like this. There are so many things I wish I could change... I... I'm not good enough for your son... He should hate me, like everyone else... I don't... I don't know what to do... I can't... I can't do anything." she lay her head on the stone of the sarcophagus, and closed her eyes feeling the warm wet of tears trail down her face.

"It's me... This is all me... I'm sorry. I'm so sorry... I betrayed you... I betrayed your house, your name, your line, even your memory. This is all my fault... I'm so sorry... I'm sorry..." The soft sobs became haunting wails as she finally cried, unrestricted and unrestrained as her voice echoed through the long empty caverns for what could have been hours, and everything she held inside was released into the sanctuary of the Ardent Tombs; where no living faces would judge her and the only eyes that watched her were those of the statues, the faces of long past Ardent Kings, she cried until she finally dreamed. Dreamed of clear skies, far off clouds and the rush of water. She was sitting on golden sand, watching the sapphire blue of the waters rise and fall over the horizon. A warm sun hung in the distance, and some feet away Raeghun stood, holding the hand of a boy with black hair, watching gulls fly overhead as lady Madryde Taugere pointed at the white shapes in the sky.

"You're upset, child?" she heard the familiar voice of lord Rychard Taugere next to her, but she remained watching the figures on the beach.

"I'm dreaming, aren't I?" she asked softly.

"It may be a dream now, but some dreams show you the future." he said, and then she glanced at him seeing him smile, the clear blue eyes bright and loving; but she couldn't stop new tears from forming.

"I wish this was real. I wish you were still with us. I need your guidance, I don't know where else to turn..." she smothered a sob as her eyes went down, watching the gold glow off the sand; and felt his strong hand wrap around her cold fingers.

"I am with you. Always. Speak if you must, or whisper. I will always listen." he assured, and she told him everything. She told him of Mae's departure from their home; about the Wanderer's Tourney, about the questions she had to face from others of stature, the acceptance of a new member to their hold and the attack in the woods when the new face saved her; the Horn Festival and all its new additions, and the danger they faced there; the beautiful marriage celebration held in their hall when the head of their sentinels took their court maiden as his wife, her husband's twenty first year, about The Lord's Giving Moon and the confusion she endured then, to a condition that was not hers to bear. Her brother's wedding and the situations she tried to her best to avoid and the consequences. His son's persistence to save the lives of his countrymen when they found a farm burning in the night, and his further aid to preserve their livelihood. The news that her best friend was with child and how she shared the feelings of such a happy event, and how beautiful Mae looked at her wedding. About the attack that claimed the lives of two of their guardians, and the forced retirement of one of their most trusted who had been a part of their order for two generations, and their conflicts since then. But through it all, her longing remained... Her loneliness remained, a stain so dark that nothing would wash it out; and she felt the stale burn of envy through her. She covered her face with her hands, again trying to withhold the sobs; but his arm went around her.

"It's al right, Claira. Cry. You are safe here." and she did. She cried until everything hurt, until the tears refused to form any longer and a relieving ache pounded against her head; and then he held her closer to him.

"But I want you to listen to me now. I did not accept you, simply because your father offered you. I did not choose you, because we had a lack of suitors. I wished for you, because there is no one in this or any other world that would have been better suited to my son. The lady of Frost, and the lord of Flame. Your union was not to ensure that our line will endure, our intent was never the simple acquisition of an heir. He needs you, because of who you are. My son is strong, the fire in him burns with a fury that is rare even in our family; even brighter than mine it is pure, but unbridled. He needs you, to ease the burn in him; and you are the only one who is able to do that for him. I know that it is hard for you, and that the emptiness seems unbearable; but I need you to believe that you were brought together for reasons greater than what you understand now; and you will become strong like the Taugere you are. We love you, all of you. Never forget that, my daughter. I am very, very proud of you. Of you, and my son. Our country has not seen days like these under his reign in a long, long time." she looked up at him, he was shining; burning like the sun with the wrath of fire around him; and eyes white like the sheen of snow.

"Sleep now, and do not be anxious for your future. All will be as it must be." she leaned against him, and closed her eyes breathing in the air, the world slowly darkening as the sun disappeared over the edge of the world and twilight took her, while the acrid scent of earth enveloped her, and the hard stone became soft clouds.

Milla stood in the southern hall dressed in warm marmalade orange velvet, overseeing preparations for their morning meal. It was a cold morning, the sky overcast with high white clouds, and as she watched the scullions and serving girls move up and down the tables cleaning and setting, and wondered if this day would be better than the last. A breeze filtered through the large doors opening to the garden, bringing the sweet smell of flowers with it, and a soft nudge to the side of her stomach. I like that smell, too. She smiled, wondering if she might ask some of their handmaidens to deliver a vase with blossoms to her room, and to Claira's to try and make her feel better hoping some colours and sweet smells might help. Then hurried footsteps along with the thud of wood on stone drew her attention, and she turned to his voice.

"Milla." Raeghun seemed distraught, the blue eyes burning with trouble.

"My lord?" she stared at him as he looked around the hall, scanning the faces.

"Have you seen my wife?" he asked softly, veiling the quiver in his voice.

"I haven't." The last time she did, was when she entered the lord's wing the previous evening, and his anxiety spread to her. She glanced away, seeing Berin approach from his duties in the barracks, and then he stopped next to Raeghun looking at him as he still examined the faces moving up and down the hall; his expression also transforming to that of concern.

"What's wrong?" and then Raeghun's face came to his before a short silence as he thought.

"I... Claira's gone." he said softly, and the dread deepened around them.

"With maester Adlyn, perhaps?" Berin suggested, but Raeghun shook his head.

"He hasn't seen her either." he had gone to see him immediately after stepping out of the wing, enquiring on her whereabouts.

"Someone would have seen if she came to the kitchens." Milla mentioned, and then Gavin and Saerus entered the southern hall, quickly approaching them.

"Your wife is not in her common room, my lord. Or on the tower's crown." Gavin reported, and then looked over at the sentinel at his side.

"We've searched the gardens and baileys as well, her horse is still in the stable." Saerus reported, and more and more thoughts came and went. Not on the crown, not in her common room, not with the maester, not in the Hollow; not in the kitchens or the gardens or out riding. Obviously not in the barracks, or in any of the halls... Where could she be?

"The vaults?" Berin suggested, it was the only place that has not been searched as yet, but Milla placed a hand to his arm.

"I highly doubt that, she's never liked dark lonely places. I don't think she'd go to a place like that." Raeghun started heading back to the Hall of Fire, with the others following him.

"Fuck..." he looked around the hall, and then returned his attention to the sentinels with him.

"Assemble every guard not on duty, find her. Bring her back to me." he ordered and they rushed off, a moment of pause followed as they still wondered and his mind raced through the hold and the area surrounding it, not immediately noticing Berin's stare over his shoulder, and then he pointed.

"Raeghun." he brought his attention to him, and then Raeghun turned to see the tall, earthen clad figure standing in front of the grand staircase and the lady in black held in his arms and her hands folded on her lap; sudden relief washed over him like a random summer shower and he moved forward towards him.

"What happened?" he asked, examining her.

"She is unharmed." Falgon said softly as he glanced at her, laying against his shoulder.

"Where was she?" Raeghun asked, and Falgon's eyes came to him, soft and compassionate.

"In the Tombs, sire." confusion tore at him, and he looked at her sleeping in the arms of her protector.

"In the Tombs? What was she doing there?" he asked, and saw Falgon's shoulders rise and fall in a deep breath.

"Seeking counsel." he revealed, and the unexpected stinging to his skin spread throughout his body as the realization struck him. His attention was so focused on his improvement, he didn't notice her deep strain. She had tried to talk to him, to seek out his comfort and he disregarded it hoping it would pass. He was so entangled with his own struggle, that he ignored hers, and he cursed himself for it. I'm such a fool... He rose his arms.

"Give her to me." Raeghun instructed, and Falgon spared the lady in his arms a final glance.

"With your permission, sire. I may take her as far as the doorway to the lord's wing for you, as you are still healing from your own injuries." he suggested, but Raeghun's eyes met his again as he shook his head.

"No. No, she is my wife. Give her to me." he insisted, and Falgon nodded before slowly moving to release her into her husband's care.

"Gently." Falgon whispered as Raeghun's arms slid by his to take hold of her, and after being certain that his grip was secure his hand went up to her hair, and gently tilted her head from his shoulder to lay against that of her husband, and Raeghun heard her softly whimper against the motion; then the sentinel moved away and his arms accepted her weight. He flinched at a sudden stab to his back and thigh, but it faded to a throb as he held her close to his chest. My Claira... I'm so sorry... He turned to Berin and Milla at his side.

"You may continue your business. I will return..." he said, and then turned and started forward through the pain as he walked up the steps, past the great hearth and up the eastern stairway before proceeding up the incline towards the lord's wing. The throbbing increased to a sting that was painful, but it was bearable. As he rounded the curve, bringing the doorway to the lord's wing into view a handmaiden was on her way down with an empty pitcher held in her hand, who quickly turned around and rushed back to open the door when she noticed him. He passed through the door, and headed through the hall and up the stairway to their chamber, where he softly lay her down on their bed and knelt at her side, the stinging again fading to a pulsing throb. Please forgive me, I have wronged you... But, I don't know what to do. I don't know how... He ran his hand over her form, hugged by the black silk. I'm so sorry... He remained there for a while, just watching as she slept, amazed that for once she didn't wake so easily as normal. But I will try. I promise I'll try... Then he stood and left the chamber again, softly closing the door behind him and leaving her to wake on her own much later to a blue sky and white clouds through the open window overlooking the Sunset Sea. She sat up rubbing her eyes, and wondered if everything that happened was simply a dream, or how she got back into their chamber. She looked around, taking in the surroundings, and then a soft knock sounded at the door. She thought for a moment to lie down, and pretend to sleep again, but then sighed and smoothed down the fabric of the dress.

"Enter." she invited, and a familiar face emerged from the doorway. Milla slipped inside and closed the door again behind her before approaching and sitting down on the edge of the bed.

"Claira, are you al right?" she asked, gently taking a strand of hair and fixing it over Claira's shoulder.

"I'm fine." she assured, looking down and heard Milla breathe out, sounding relieved.

"You really scared us. What were you doing in the Tombs?" she asked, moving slightly closer.

"I'm sorry. I... I just needed to get away from people. From the staring eyes. The whispers..." she said softly, and again looked out of the window over the blue, and then Milla's hand gently took hold of her cold fingers.

"What happened?" she asked, and a short pause followed before Claira looked back at Milla's clear green eyes.

"I spoke, to my father. I told him everything, what we endured the past year. Everything that happened. I think I fell asleep there. I had a dream, that we were sitting on the beach. We were all there, lord Rychard, lady Madryde, me and Raeghun... and a boy I didn't know. I couldn't see the face, just the black hair. It could have been your son, or Jon Snow for all I know; lord Eddard Stark did mention that he might reconsider in a few years. He... he told me to trust in my family, my name... and... and that my marriage to Raeghun..." she started to tell, and tried to drown out a sob when her best friend suddenly started crying.

"Forgive me, Claira..." she said through her hands, pressed to her face; and Claira's hand went to her arm concerned by her change of state.

"Milla." then she looked at her, the clear green set in anguished red.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry... I've stolen this from you... This should have been yours... Claira, I'm so sorry I took this from you..." she cried, and Claira's heart broke for her; new waves of tears forcing their way into her eyes and she moved closer to her friend.

"Milla, don't cry. Please don't cry... You'll upset your baby..." she pleaded as her right hand went to her back, and her left rested on the swell of her stomach, feeling a soft kick in the moment before Milla's hand rested on hers, gently pressing it against her.

"Our baby. This will be his home... He will grow up in your house..." she said, and Claira stared at her. Our... Then the stinging, burning tears flooded down her cheeks again as her arms went around her friend, and she felt hers wrap around her waist.

"Don't you ever feel that way. Don't ever think you stole anything from me, you didn't. Everything is as it must be." Claira said, trying to force the words into her. They held each other, as they both cried together in the safety of the lord's chamber.

Raeghun stood in front of the great hearth, watching the dance of the flames and feeling the sensation through his back and leg, the throb had died down to a slight tingle. How it sparkled in the stone arch. Fire salts were rare, but it kept flames burning for six years with only a single hand full, and it felt like this was the only light left in the entirety of his hold, and he didn't know how to bring it out again. He couldn't think of any way to give out this warm and comforting light to the rest of his home, to the rest of his family... to his wife. He heard heavy footfalls approach down the eastern stairway, and then looked up from the flames, at the glowing stone at the back of the hearth.

"Is everything al right, sire?" the deep, gentle voice sounded from next to him and he took a deep breath, before again looking down.

"Yes. But I'm afraid my wife is feeling, out of place." he mentioned, forcing a soft smile.

"I see." Falgon said, turning his gaze to the sparkling flames.

"I may have been unkind to her... I don't... I don't know what to do." the lord said softly, his mind refusing to collaborate to the situation.

"Women are complex beings, they experience life much deeper than we do." the man next to him said, seeming to bring up his own experience with the fairer race. He was thankful for him, the way he spoke brought a calmness with every word that came from him.

"I wish there was something I could do for her, but her longing is for something that we have no control over. Lately, it has left a void between us..." he said, wishing for answers to the nagging questions that plagued him.

"If it is not unmannerly of me to ask, sire. Why did you marry her?" the sentinel asked, and he brought up that day in his mind.

"Because she was promised to me, and I to her." he recalled the tree, the torches, the many faces and the lord with the beautiful lady in green beside him.

"Do you regret it?" he was tense, but that faded to wonder when she was revealed to him.

"Not for an instant." he had shared the happiest days of his life with her at his side.

"Do you want children?" It was an exciting thought, that their house would grow.

"Of course." but it had been so long, and hope had all but completely faded as he noticed the figure nodding beside him.

"Would you hate her, or leave her bed for another's if she could not give you any?" that was something he couldn't imagine, he could not see himself at the side of anyone but her.

"Never." There was no one else, no one in the extent of this world that he would be capable of feeling any affection for.

"Do you love her?" Raeghun smiled, feeling the warmth in his chest.

"With my entire heart." It didn't matter what happened, as long as they were together. This was their home, and they would watch over it side-by-side. With their people, and their family however it was added to their house. He saw the stern face turn to him, the dark eyes as always soft and understanding.

"Forgive me, sire. But then I don't understand the problem?" Raeghun looked up at him, the smile genuine and bright.

"There is no problem. Thank you, my friend." he said, placing a grateful hand to his shoulder and Falgon bowed his head. Then the lord turned, and made his way back to the lord's wing, passing Milla on his way and he paused.

"Milla, is my wife awake? I need to speak with her." he asked, and she nodded as she brushed her fingers over a still flushed cheek.

"She is. She assured that she will join us this evening for supper." she informed, and he looked up the hallway.

"Thank you." they parted ways, and he entered the lord's hall finding two handmaidens still busy with their chores.

"You may return to your duties tomorrow. Take the rest of the day for yourselves." he instructed, and they left after thanking him. He took another deep breath, and headed up the stairway to their chamber where he again found her standing in front of the window, watching the blue of the ocean meet the horizon. He discarded the cane next to the dresser and went to her, laying his hands on her shoulders, and softly kissed her neck before she turned to him and he registered the red of her eyes.

"I'm sorry." she looked down, and he took her hands leading her to the bed where he sat down and pulled her forward onto his knees.

"Claira, my sweet wife. Listen to me; hear what I say." his arms circled her waist where she sat on his legs.

"I don't care, if you give me twenty sons or none at all. You are mine, and if the gods deem it so, then you are all I need. My house can end with me, it doesn't make the slightest difference to me." he told her, and her eyes came to his.

"That's not fair, Raeghun." she again tried to smother her emotions, but he tilted his head slightly as he smiled softly.

"Fair to who? To 'them'? They can all go and fuck themselves sideways or six ways, whichever fits them. To me? I just told you, I don't care." his hand went to her cheek.

"What's not fair Claira, is to expect something of you, that you have no control over. I would give up everything, just to see you smile at me again." her hands covered her face, and she cried again as his hand went into her hair and his arm tightened around her, and he held her tightly against him allowing her to release what was left of the sorrow, and he rocked soothingly with his wife in his arms.

"Oh, my dear wife. My dear, sweet, precious wife." he whispered against her, his warmth enveloping her completely, bringing comfort and love to her again.

Raeghun glanced over the stone railings lining the outside gardens as they walked, his wife's hands wrapped around his left arm, and the cane held in his right. Some days had passed, and it finally seemed that things were starting to get better. He didn't feel as enraged any more, and she had smiled for him again. She also returned to lighter colours of garments, having dressed this morning in light green. The pain still came and went, but it has been a while since he felt the burning sear through him, and he could appreciate slowly applying less pressure to the aid at his side. Sparring went well, although it was slow. Then he paused, staring over the horizon of blue on blue, enveloped by the sweet scents of the many blossoms around them.

"My love?" then he looked down at her, there was no concern in her eyes, not as much as it was curiosity.

"This is a beautiful day. Bright, calm and clear." he mentioned with a smile, and then turned towards her bringing his hand to her cheek.

"Just like you." she blushed, and pressed her hand over his as he leaned forward and kissed her, breathing her into him; her fragrance much stronger than that of the colourful flowers around them. Then he drew back, and they resumed their walk down the garden trail, listening to the rush of the ocean far below, and the song of birds in the trees.

"Raeghun, why don't I see any weirwood trees here?" she asked, and he glanced down at her.

"I don't know. I don't think they grow here." he had never seen the white trees with their crimson leaves in the Corridor, although they were rather wide spread further to the north.

"Never?" he shook his head as his eyes returned to the path in front of them.

"Not that I know of." he felt her fingers softly tighten around his elbow.

"Trying to grow one, would probably be pointless then..." she sounded disappointed, almost sad and then he paused again and turned towards her.

"You want your gods to see you." he realized, and she looked down timidly. He thought for a while, bringing up the white tree he saw; the blood red leaves that seemed to glow in the torch light, the face looking at him and a shimmering under the branches to its left.

"The tree at Pale Haven has a pond next to it, doesn't it?" she looked up at him again, slightly puzzled by his question.

"It does. Why?" he smiled, and put his arm around her shoulders as he pulled her closer.

"Well, I might not be able to give you a tree. But, I have an idea." he said as they continued down the path, returning to the southern hall to break their fast with their family, and enjoyed their company. After which they tended to matters of the hall, and then while Raeghun and Berin visited the village the ladies made their way to Claira's common room. They took their places on the soft chairs, and Milla resumed her work happily; but Claira found herself staring at the flower basket in her hoop with the needle held in her hand. Dozens of flowers and leaves in shades from deep blue to sun yellow surrounded the roses she started with, in a clustered bouquet; but she was done with it. It was time for something new. She took the fabric from the hoop and walked to the hearth, standing there holding the cloth in her hands and fumbling the patterns between her fingers.

"My lady?" she looked at Milla behind her, her hands still and her eyes veiled with confusion and concern; but Claira smiled.

"It's fine. I just..." she paused again, and looked at the flowers. All the many days she spent trying to fill an emptiness the felt rather than saw; then Milla stood and came to her looking down at the picture in her hands.

"Your flower basket..." then their eyes met.

"This basket became every pain, every frustration, every loneliness, every hardship that we faced over the past few months. This represents all the strain and darkness that lay over our house, and..." she paused, glancing at it a final time.

"I have finally finished it." she said, and then threw the fabric into the flames. Milla's hand went to her mouth in a moment of surprise, but Claira just watched as the threads burned, the blossoms shrivelling away and vanishing in the fire. Then she felt her friend's arms go around her, and her fingers softly curled around her arm.

"I'm... I'm proud of you, Claira." she whispered, and she gently squeezed her arm.

"Thank you, I think." she laughed, and then turned.

"It is time for something new." she went back to the basket and pulled a clean cloth from its contents while Milla carefully settled back in her seat, and retook her hoop.

"Do you have any ideas?" she asked as she pushed her needle through the fabric in her hoop, and Claira looked back.

"I might." she recalled a beast of blue flame, snatching a creature that wished to do her harm long ago. She returned to her chair and settled in, placing the cloth in the hoop and fastening the edges; then slowly started work on the vision from the dream where it looked down at her. Wide sparkling wings, a long flowing tail, hard grey talons, a beak in onyx black and glinting eyes of frozen blue and burning red. Slowly the light from outside dimmed, and Claira barely finished the outside linings of the wings and the tail when a serving girl came to announce that supper would be served soon; they departed the common room leaving their work to wait for them until the following day and made their way down the halls to the southern feast hall to join their family. Cook Jeody served flamed haddock with spinach, baby potatoes and carrots followed by preserve tartlets. The atmosphere was jovial while a bard and jester filled their hall with their talents for fair song and far off tales, a welcome transition from the weeks before. After finishing their supper, and leaving the hall to be cleared, the Taugere's and Trentins made their way into the Hall of Fire on their way to their wings to find peace for the remainder of the evening where a guard from the gate approached them.

"Pardon me, milord. The stone mason has begged an audience with you." he informed, and Raeghun glanced at Berin.

"Why at this time?" Berin asked, sounding more amused than concerned and then Raeghun gave him a small smile.

"Well, best I heard what the trouble is. Would you join me?" he asked, and Berin nodded before Raeghuns' attention came to Falgon, who had watched them from the doorway to the feast hall.

"Ser Falgon, would you and Gavin be so kind as to accompany our ladies to their apartments?" he asked, and Falgon acknowledged him.

"Of course, sire." they attended the ladies up the steps of the grand staircase to the third level, where Gavin escorted Milla to their room while Falgon stayed at Claira's side up to the lord's wing where she bid him a fond evening before closing the door and he returned to the barracks, resuming his place in front of the hearth, again taking up a book in his hands titled Shattered Glass. A historical portrayal of a broken family, and their journey to mend themselves and eventually each other; their final legacy a cascade of colours in the morning light. Hours had passed, many guards moving through the hall, departing to relieve those on rounds and others returning to rest for the night as deep night settled over Mount Ardor and the halls became silent and peaceful. He enjoyed the quiet, and found harmony in the solitude of night, but before too long his euphoria would be broken by the figure dressed in pale purple and burgundy hair hanging past her shoulders, appearing in the arch that led up the stairway into the rest of the barracks.

"I've been waiting for you." she said softly, and his eyes came momentarily away from the book in his hands.

"My apologies, you would have waited a long time." he excused, and she started moving forward towards him.

"I've never seen you with anyone. Never being intimate with any of the women, never heard of you visiting one of the night inns. Don't you get… lonely?" she pointed out, and he turned a page, not giving her his full attention.

"My duties take up a lot of my time." he justified, her shadow growing in the light cast by the fire of the hearth.

"You have some time to yourself now." she again said softly, standing at his side and running her fingers over the backrest of the chair.

"So I do." he breathed, and then felt the soft brush of fabric as she slipped her right leg across his thighs, followed by gentle pressure to his legs as her weight rested on him and the fingers of her left hand wrapping around his neck. His eyes came up from the book and he stared at her in surprise as her other hand took the book from him, and lay it on the table before bringing her hand back to his face. Don't... She leaned forward, pressing her lips to his yearningly, in a lingering kiss. For a fleeting moment, he tried to return it but couldn't as the touch left a writhing in his chest, like taking hold of his heart and pressing; it was difficult to breathe as a dizzying sting overwhelmed him, bordering on revolt. He placed his hand to her chest, inches below her throat and forced her away from him.

"You shouldn't be here. You'll get into trouble." he murmured, but she stared at him, her light violet eyes meeting his desperately. Why am I not good enough for you? She leaned forward again, running her hands down his chest.

"I want you, Falgon. More than I've wanted anyone…" she whispered against his ear as her hands slid further down over his stomach, but as her fingers touched the threads of the leather breeches he took hold of her wrists, and brought her hands away from him.

"Aurelne, you're a beautiful woman. But I can't." he said, and she again stared at him.

"Sentinels are allowed to choose a woman, Falgon. Not just the high-born." she told, and he sighed.

"I know, but that's not the reason." she sat back on his knees.

"Then why?" she asked, the disappointment evident in the pitch of her voice, No man has ever refused me.

"Because I belong to another." he simply said, releasing his grip on her wrists; and she looked down bringing her hands together in front of her.

"You were married? It still hurts?" she determined, and he looked away from her.

"That too, is not the reason." he said softly, and she was utterly confused.

"Who then?" there was a drawn out silence, but when his eyes wouldn't return to hers she suddenly realized who he was thinking of. Of course it was her, the beautiful lady with hair like black marble and rime blue eyes.

"You can't be serious!" she suddenly said, the confusion melting into shock; and then his eyes did return to hers.

"I belong to her. My very existence is hers." he said, but it ate at her like a ravenous animal.

"She is the lord's wife!" she reminded him, like she needed to; but he nodded.

"True, she is. And it doesn't change my accord." he would not relent, but neither was she willing to simply accept it.

"She'll never be yours." she told him, but his reaction was a soft knowing smile.

"I can accept that." and he truly did. His world was complete as long as he could see her smile, could hear her laugh. It didn't matter for whom it was.

"You should forget about her." she advised, again leaning forward and he chuckled.

"You ask that of me?" she was the only one, the only entity that was a reality more concrete than the woman sitting on him at this moment.

"There is no other that could give you what I can't." she told him, but he shook his head.

"I can't give you anything, Aurelne. Best you forget about me." he said, and her hands again went to his face, softly against his skin.

"You can give me you." she whispered, and he took her hands again, gently bringing them away from him. Her persistent attempts were starting to grow tiresome, and his hope for non-belligerent partings were becoming fewer.

"I have one purpose, only one. To protect her. It is the only reason I'm still breathing. All the rest can go to whichever hell they deem fit for themselves." he said, but yet another time she leaned forward to bring herself closer to him.

"Falgon..." What choices were left to him? What would make her abandon this folly? His hands tightened on her wrists, his eyes becoming hard and the light of the hall slightly dimming around them.

"If I want to bed someone, I'll bed a queen. Not a chamber maid." he suddenly told her, and let go of her wrists. The emotions in her eyes were nothing new to him, swirls of disappointment, pain, hate and anger, and then a sudden frigid sting spread across the left side of his face, hard enough to force his stare away from her as the palm of her hand struck him, the sound of the impact sounding through the hall. But he breathed in, and abruptly started laughing as he brought his eyes back to hers with a grin.

"That's better. Now go, before someone comes looking for you." he said, and she stood from him to leave. But as she reached the arch she stopped and looked back at him.

"I hope you love her. I hope you love her so much, that each time you look at her your heart breaks; knowing you will not have her." she cursed him, and his head turned slightly towards her.

"What heart?" after a moment she vanished, and he was left listening to her soft cries fading away; and he finally breathed again, bringing his eyes to the flames of the hearth, not entirely noticing the change around him. I would rather lose her heart with a painful truth, than to break it with falseness... He had refused many, it was easy for him. One of the first was a second wife to his father, and the memory came back to him in vague moments. Her initial interest in their family was for him, but when he did not return the fondness his father claimed her hand in union. It was one late night, he had just come back from scouting with his brothers. She was waiting in his room, and took the liberty of closing the door behind him as he removed the sword and cloak from his shoulders. She too, was not a stranger to displaying her interest in someone particular, and then he refused her; and this angered her. 'No man has ever refused me.' she told him that night, her wrists held in his strong hands as he smiled at her. 'I just did.' then he released her, stepping back as she stared at him. 'I'll tell your father-' he assumed this was meant as a threat, but laughed at her. 'Tell him. And make sure he believes you.' he encouraged, and since that evening they did not share an optimistic kinship, despite his love for his baby sisters that she brought into the world.

Several more weeks followed, weeks of peace and improvement within their walls while Raeghun paid more frequent visits to Garde's Post, except for the morning Aurelne requested permission to return to her family in Barrow Town with the explanation that she lived a happy life here, but longed for her home. They were sad to see her go, she'd been a fine addition to their household aids; but did not question her decision. It was granted, and she departed the burning mountain on the back of a merchant cart. This was a bright, warm day that Claira and her court maiden shared in her common room. Milla was great with child, and the imminent birth was drawing near, a very happy occasion as more and more people were talking of it. Everyone wondered what the new little lord or lady would look like, and predictions of his father's candour and her mother's grace was often heard in the halls. Claira glanced at Milla, with a wide textile of sparkling black silk in her hands, and smiled curiously.

"What are you working on?" she asked, and added another stitch to the work in her hands, the form of the creature nearing completion.

"Oh, just a blanket. And you?" she blushed as she glanced up, her hands still working.

"Something I once saw in a dream. I might use it as a bodice piece for one of my dresses." she told, displaying the vision in her hands and Milla smiled warmly.

"It's beautiful, but why a blue phoenix?" she asked, slightly confused and Claira stared at the creature, as close as she could remember it.

"That's how I saw it. Clear and bright, burning like the sun." her memory went back to the dream, to the moment her hand went up to touch the flaming feathers of the great phoenix that stood on crystal white snow. The eyes staring at her, both burning and wondrous in their beauty. Then she looked back at Milla as she rested the hoop on her knees.

"May I see yours?" she asked cheerfully, but Milla looked down shyly. Almost fearfully.

"You may, but I don't... want you sad." she said softly, lowering her hands.

"About what, my dear friend?" Claira asked, adding another stitch to her work as she pulled the thread through the fabric.

"About our circumstances... about yours..." Milla said, bringing her eyes up to hers; but saw her friend smiling as her shoulders rose and fell in a deep breath; then after a moment of silence she lay the hoop down on her knees again and looked at her. There was no more remorse left in her beautiful smile. No longer a forced courtesy, not a hidden pain and anger. This was her, the friend she knew. The happy girl she met for the first time thirteen years ago.

"I've accepted it, Milla. It doesn't bother me any more. You can show me." she assured, truly interested in the work clutched in the hands of the young mother opposite from her, then Milla nodded and spread the textile in front of her to display it, and Claira stared at it in amazement. A bright and burning phoenix in all the rich colours of flame was intricately adorned over the centre of the shining black silk, fierce and powerful.

"Our sigil? Shouldn't it be yours?" Claira asked, astonished at her choice; but then Milla smiled back at her warmly, happy and aglow.

"My child will grow up here. We will honour your house, still." she said, and Claira felt the soft heat of a blush to her skin.

"Thank you, Milla. That means a great deal to us." she said, and looked out the window over the fields, the gentle dark of twilight hanging in the distance.

"Any notions on why the stone masons have been calling on us so frequently?" she wondered, and Milla seemed to put some thought into that.

"I have not heard of any complaints, save that they were in need of expanding the quarry. Naturally, your lord husband would need to approve so they are likely negotiating a suitable reach." she mentioned as Claira's stare remained on the slowly fading light outside while one by one, the torches surrounding the hold were lit.

"Negotiations shouldn't take this long." she thought, and then looked back at Milla.

"I'm sure they're just being finicky. The masons want the best stone for their work." she said, finally having Claira brush off the notion and they continued their work until a handmaiden came to collect them for the evening banquet where they shared chickpea soup, followed by butter glazed hare roasted with onions and turnips with fresh spinach, and finally some blackberries with cider; all listening to flute song before retiring to bed. Days later, finally nearing her thirty-eighth week, Milla retreated to the confines of the east wing and its comforts to lay in, and Claira shared the comfort of their chamber at least once a day for a couple of hours; and near to a fortnight later, some days earlier than expected Mount Ardor was restless as painful screams echoed throughout the halls. Early this morning, the discomfort started and slowly increased to back ache, to cramps and finally contractions. Many lingered on the third level, while the maester and several nurses were in attendance along with Berin. Claira stood in front of the great doorway, wringing her hands together. Even at this distance, the harrowing wails left her aching and she wished she could take the pain away. Then she felt a comforting hand around her shoulders, and looked up at clear blue eyes.

"She'll be al right." Raeghun whispered as he pressed her gently to him; and she prayed that he would be right. So many times, she heard tales of young mothers claimed by death, bringing their children into this life as she stared down the dark hallway and the night dragged on. Cook Jeody delayed his retirement, having his serving girls supply those in waiting with cups of warm cider; and it was well past midnight when Claira realized that the disruption had suddenly stopped some time ago. She listened intently, but there was silence save for the soft voices around her and the crackle of the great hearth and then the first faint sounds of footsteps coming down the hall growing louder until maester Adlyn emerged and Claira approached him.

"Maester, how are they?" she couldn't hide the dread lacing her tone, but he smiled at her comfortingly as her husband came up beside her.

"The baby is strong and thriving, however..." he paused a small moment, and Claira felt her heart dissolve as she unconsciously brought her hands to her chest.

"Milla?" but he remained smiling.

"She's fine. She has suffered a difficult birth, and is worn-out and faint at the moment. But, with enough rest and care she will be completely recovered before long." he assured, and relief washed over each in the hall.

"Thank you, maester. We are blessed to have you in our home." Raeghun said, again wrapping his arm around Claira's waist as she smiled and laughed, the happiness too moving to suppress. Then he bid them a fair remainder of the evening before returning to the safety of his tower, and another set of footsteps came down the hall, immediately seizing the lady's attention. Moments later Berin emerged with a small bundle wrapped in white linen in his arms, smiling happily at them.

"My lord, my lady. May I present the newest member of your house to you?" he asked as he came closer, the quiver of excitement still evident in his voice, and Claira stared at the tiny child; softly whimpering in his arms.

"May we have the name of our new member?" Raeghun asked, bringing his hand to the soft cloth enveloping the baby; and Berin laughed over the glint of tears in his eyes.

"Bella. Bella Trentin, my lord." Claira couldn't bring her eyes away from her, and slowly raised her hands.

"May I hold her, please?" she asked, and Berin turned towards her.

"Of course." he surrendered his daughter to her, and she held her tightly against her. She was the most beautiful she'd ever seen, the feel of the tiny soft body warming her entirely; and an absolute love for her rooted, and Claira couldn't stop new tears of her own from trailing down her cheeks. She hadn't felt this happy in months as she continued to stare at the child while their other members slowly started to gather around them to meet the new lady. The heiress of the Trentin lineage was born with black hair and clear green eyes, and an early conciousness and curiosity of her surroundings. On maester Adlyn's instruction, Milla was pent to repose for some weeks while nurses tended to her needs, and Claira was blissful to see to the care of tiny lady Bella whenever she could, fully believing that even though she may never have her own children she could love another's just as much, and once a day familiar faces were allowed to enter to present their fair wishes. A nurse from Citrine Arch joined their household aid very recently; receiving consent from Raeghun she sent a message to her family requesting that Mandeline who was her watcher as a girl join her company at Mount Ardor, who apart from the lady of the hold was the only woman she would entrust the care of her daughter to. She was a slim woman of thirty two with short brown hair and grey eyes, positive and helpful as she taught Milla the proper way to feed and care for her daughter, and all other small shards of wisdom. One fair morning, Claira sat with Bella in her arms on a chair in Milla's chamber while her handmaidens helped her wash and changed the bed sheets. She found it easier to move, but was still encouraged to rest; which she found rather bothersome.

"I wish I could go outside. The walls seem to be closing in on me." Milla complained, but Claira smiled happily as she rocked with Bella.

"Soon, my friend. Enjoy this time, it might not happen again for a while." she said, and Milla sighed as she was returned to their bed.

"I know. I just find it so restricting, it's like I've been jailed." she said as the sheets were carefully pulled over her and smoothed down.

"I'd like to think there are some people who would pay a price to spend a night in our vaults." Claira teased, and Milla laughed with her.

"Oh yes, it's quite a step from the black cells or the sky cells I've heard of." Milla mentioned as Claira glanced down at the child who started to stir.

"Indeed. My husband insists, it doesn't matter how lowly the criminals are, they're still human. And their needs will be tended to as required." she stood as the child started to fidget and cry, bringing her over to Milla.

"I think she's hungry." Milla raised her hands to take her, and as Claira released her she felt stinging, and brought her hand to her chest. It's been happening more and more lately. She watched as her friend opened the left side of her chest, and brought the little one closer to drink when another sting went through her. But as she quieted down, the sting faded to a tingle.

"Would you excuse me for a little while? I need to see the maester." then Milla looked up at her.

"Of course. Is something wrong?" Claira thought, she didn't feel ill; there were no changes, it was just the odd sensations.

"No. I just need to ask his advice. I will return here later." she assured, and then left the east wing for maester Adlyn's tower, finding her trusted sentinel awaiting her at the great door. She looked up at him as he turned to her.

"How is our lady, and her little one?" he enquired, and she smiled.

"They're both doing well. This is not the lord's wing, you may visit her with the others." she reminded him, and he glanced at the doorway.

"I shouldn't intrude." he declined politely, and she sniggered shaking her head. That's just how he was, and no force on earth would change him. He accompanied her to the maester's tower.

"I will wait for you here, if it please you?" he said, taking his place next to the arch leading up into the tower.

"Yes, that's fine. I won't be long." she assured, and ascended the steps to maester Adlyn's chamber where she found him holding a bottle in his hand, swirling it slightly to mix the ingredients.

"Maester Adlyn." she called for his attention, and he turned as he replaced the bottle on a shelf.

"Good day, my lady. What may I do for you?" he asked, bringing his hands together as he approached her. She glanced down, wondering what to say.

"I need your help." she murmured, and he guided her to the chairs in front of his little hearth.

"Anything, of course." they sat down, and she debated on how to start.

"You are aware that I've been tending to Bella for a little while now." she told, and he nodded through a warm smile.

"I have heard. A wonderful experience for you, I'm sure." he said, and she felt a warmth to her cheeks.

"It is. But I have found my chest becoming painful, quite recently." she revealed, and he thought on that, seeming curious.

"May I ask you to describe this pain, my lady?" he leaned forward to listen.

"Stinging, to my breast... It seems worse when the little one is crying." she told, and again his mind rummaged through the possibilities before his teeth bared through his thick grey beard in a wide smile, but she stared at him.

"Is there something wrong with me?" his deep brown eyes met hers, shining with some untold emotion.

"No, my lady. Not at all. It is quite common, I've seen it a few times; but generally with women who have had their own children before. I dare to say that this is something very positive." he explained, and she glanced down for an instant.

"I don't understand." he sat back on the chair, his hands resting on his knee.

"Women are wonderful beings, my lady. They connect so deeply with those around them, and even more so to the ones closest to them. Your body is responding to the child's needs, naturally as you wish to care for her..." he suddenly paused, and then stood heading to the shelf.

"It should fade soon, but I may give you something for relief, should it become unbearable." he took a tiny green vial as Claira stood to follow him, and then turned back to her holding out the little bottle.

"A single drop with your morning tea, each day." he instructed, and she closed her hand around the glass.

"Thank you, maester." he slightly bowed.

"It is my great pleasure to assist you, lady Claira. Is there anything else?" he asked as he walked with her to the doorway leading back down to the rest of the hold.

"No, that was all thank you." she said passing through the door where he stopped.

"Very well. Until your next visit then." he greeted as she slowly went down the steps, and he headed back to his shelf. He had to stop himself, every evidence suggested that she had abandoned her hope too soon; but he would rather not rekindle it to have her suffer another length of time with the postponement. She responded, if anything it supported the probability that she will bear; and he smiled to himself as he scanned the contents of his shelves and she returned to the east wing to resume her part. With Bella fed, Claira once again sat with her in her arms on the chair in the corner next to the window, but evidently she wasn't feeling at all sleepy as she played with strands of the lady's hair in her hands. Claira loved it, the wonder in her little eyes and they way she gurgled when she tickled her, and her little mouth pulling in some fashion that might resemble a smile. Some time past noon, Mandeline was given the rest of the afternoon to herself; and Claira looked up to see Milla asleep, then stood with Bella.

"Let's go get mama some flowers." she suggested softly, and silently made her way out the door and down the hallway; again meeting her sentinel at the doorway from where he accompanied them to the outside garden. They wandered amidst the sweet blossoms for a little while, choosing a handful of sweet flowers to take back to the room. It was a quiet day, most of their household visiting the village. They chose two sunflowers, five blood red roses and three blue lilies from the garden before starting their way back into the hold when a page came from the doorway with a quill and a parchment.

"My apologies for bothering you, lady Claira. A shipment of components from Myr has arrived for maester Adlyn from White Harbour; and lord Raeghun is not here to sign acceptance for it. May I kindly ask you?" he presented the quill and parchment to her, and she looked around.

"Very well." then her eyes met Falgon's behind her. I couldn't ask him... But as if he saw the thought passing through her eyes he raised his hands.

"You may, your grace." she smiled.

"Thank you, it will just be a moment." she said as he gently took the child from her, and she lay the flowers on the bench next to her, before taking the quill and parchment from the boy in front of her.

"Turn around." she instructed, and he turned his back to her where she lay the parchment and wrote her names at the bottom and handed the items back to the boy as he turned back.

"Thank you, milady." he rolled the parchment neatly and returned the way he came, then Claira turned back to the sentinel behind her. He was smiling happily as Bella held his finger in her hands, bubbling excitedly and Claira giggled.

"She likes you. You certainly have a way with little ones." he looked at her, still smiling.

"I used to watch over my sisters, many times. It's nothing new to me." he mentioned, and she felt warm realizing yet another part of the man next to her. She took the flowers next to her, and he held the baby for Claira to reclaim her, but as she slipped into her arm she started to cry, and even after laying the flowers down on the bench again nothing Claira did would calm her. What have I done? What am I doing? Her mind ran with her, but then Falgon raised his hands again.

"May I, your grace?" he asked, and she slowly returned the child to him which he took and gently lay her against his shoulder, supporting what little weight she had with his left hand, and the fingers of his right gently tapping on her back like you would play a flute while he subtly swayed, softly humming an unfamiliar tune as the mewling ceased, and she was again left wondering who he was...

Milla woke to an empty room, and gingerly sat up as sleep left her and wondered where the others were. They might be in the kitchens, it's not that far... She stood from the bed, feeling the sensation of prickles to her legs but felt strong enough to walk, then started moving forward. It went slow, and she used the surrounding objects for support, then heard a soft knock at the door.

"Enter." she allowed, hoping it would be Claira and Bella; but when the door opened burning blue eyes met hers.

"You're not supposed to be up." Raeghun said coming forward.

"I feel strong enough to walk." she took another small step forward.

"Milla, get back into bed." he said, and she looked up at him.

"But-" she started, and he gave her a teasing smile.

"No but's. Your butt, your bed, now." he took her from the floor and returned her the five steps back to their bed and set her down.

"I want to see my daughter." she insisted.

"I will have her brought to you, I need to speak with my wife." he assured, and then looked back as Berin entered, and he returned to the door.

"Stay with your wife, please. And if she moves sit on her, or something until Bella is safely with her." he instructed, and Berin laughed.

"She would sooner rip my spine out." he joked, seeing her blush from the bed trying to drown her own laughter.

"You make me sound so cruel." she sounded behind them, and Raeghun turned.

"Given half a chance, Maegor the Cruel would seem a lamb against you." he teased, and she returned his smile.

"Then hurry, before I make you my first victim." Raeghun rose his hands in defence.

"Yes, my lady. At once, my lady." In their safety, they could share moments like these. Then he turned back to Berin.

"Then I have a final favour to ask. Please escort my wife to the lord's garden for me. I'll be waiting there." he asked, and Berin shared an impish smile.

"Of course." Raeghun left the chamber, and Berin went back to the bed to sit down beside his wife.

"It's good that you are feeling better." he said as he lay his hand on her knee.

"I do feel better, but the pain lingers." his arm went around her and he held her against him.

"Don't strain yourself. It won't last." he said, and she looked away from him.

"It breaks my heart that I can't spend as much time with Bella as I want to. But I am grateful for Claira, who has been helping so much." she said smiling.

"She loves doing it. If not for her and Mandeline, we'd be severely lost." he said, glancing at the doorway.

"I owe her so much. I hope to return that favour." she said softly as shadows flickered in the hallway, and footsteps approached and Berin stood as Claira entered with Bella sleeping in her arms.

"I'm sorry for disappearing, we went looking for flowers." Claira apologised as she came towards her, the sweet smelling flowers held in her right hand before she slipped them into a vase waiting on the dresser.

"That's al right. Thank you, they're lovely." Claira came to the bed, and released the sleeping child into her mother's care.

"Bella chose most of them." she smiled, and then stepped back glancing at Berin.

"I should leave you, then. Enjoy your evening." she started heading towards the door, while Berin walked with her.

"Actually, your husband has requested that I accompany you to the lord's wing. There is a matter that require your attendance." he said, and she looked at him in surprise.

"Falgon normally escorts me to the doorway." she mentioned, looking at the shadow cast by the waiging figure around the corner from the door.

"I would prefer he stay here for a few moments; before my wife has the urge to go hunting." he teased again, glancing over his shoulder. They departed the east wing, leaving the sentinel to guard the doorway as they made their way up the incline to the lord's wing, and every thought went through her mind of what was in need of her attention. He entered with her, and for the first time she noticed that the doors leading to the private garden were closed and she looked back at Berin.

"Why are the garden doors closed?" she asked, as it was a normal occurrence that these doors always stood open; allowing entry to clear air and sweet scents.

"I don't know, my lady. Shall we find out?" he asked, and she looked back at the doors, anxiety and curiosity fusing in a whirl down her back as he moved forward and placed his hands on the iron handles of the wood doors and pulled to reveal the lush outside then stepped outside turning to his right. Then he looked at her, smiling.

"It's al right. He's here." she cautiously moved forward, emerging into the light sweet of their private garden, and then she felt like her heart stopped as she turned. With the walking aid next to him, Raeghun sat on the edge of a wide black marble basin, supporting another smaller white marble basin, which in its centre held a tall white pillar, crowned by a red marble shelter, intricately chiselled to resemble red leaves. Staring at her from the heart of the white column was a face she knew, the face of lord Rychard Taugere. Her hands covered her mouth as tears burned at her eyes, and her breath caught in her throat.

"Raeghun... This is... This is beautiful... I can't... There are no words..." she breathed, the beautiful fountain the pride of their garden. Then he smiled, stood and walked towards her, leaving the cane behind; and the sting became actual tears. There was no strain, no difficulty, not even a slight limp to the way he moved.

"You're... You're walking..." she cried, bringing her hands to his chest as he reached her. She had been so busy with Milla and Bella, the rest of the world passed her by without so much as a notion. He laughed, bringing his arms around her.

"I couldn't give you the same as what is at Pale Haven, but I hoped this would do." he held her tightly against him.

"I became strong again, because of you. Everything I am, is because of you." he said, placing his lips against her cheek; and her arms wound around his neck.

"I love you. I love you so much." she breathed against him, her arms growing tighter around him.

"And I love you. I don't need anything else, just you. I would live under a tree, as long as I had you." he said, and then pulled back from her.

"Speaking of which." he glanced at the fountain, and then brought his eyes back to hers, gently taking her face between his hands.

"Today, four years ago I was standing under a white tree with crimson leaves and a face watching over me; among friends and family and people I didn't even know. Down a torch-lit path came a man, with a young lady at his side. I was scared to death; because I didn't know the lady at all, or what she'd think of me. But she accepted me, and when her father took the veil from her she was the most beautiful woman in the known and unknown world, the most beautiful being in all creation with hair of midnight and starlight, skin like delicate porcelain and eyes like clear sapphires." he stared at her, the same wonder in his eyes that sparked that day, and so many times since then.

"That lady took me as her husband, and she became my wife... Today, four years ago I became yours, and you became mine. And that is enough for me to live a happy life, until we are both aged. Until the end of my days..." they stood, holding each other in the garden until her emotions calmed.

Until the end of my days...