A/N- I hope you all enjoy…Review, favourite, following...I love hearing your thoughts and predictions!
Words are Wind
Theodora
Sleep had not come easy to Theodora.
In fact, for the most part of the night, it hadn't come at all.
Few words had been exchanged after Ezralaya had named he who had caused her knells of woe. As by the light of a single candle, Theodora had fetched a basin and clothe, sat patiently whilst Ezralaya cleansed herself, and then stripped and redressed her tenuous figure. She then helped her into bed and held her somber frame whilst she drifted between sleep and a state of melancholy torpor.
It had not been the sounds Ezralaya's lamentation's that had prevented Theodora from finding peace, but more so, the reasons of why she wept so mournfully. For a long while, she hadn't been able to fully fathom Ezralaya's confession. A conflict of emotions had seized her, warping all she thought she knew.
Ezralaya's grief riddled words haunted Theodora; Jaime Lannister, she'd confessed, and she heard the words over and over again, no less wretched than how they'd been spoke.
Upon first hearing them, Shock had been first to detain her; wherein she'd floated within a trance of lucid denial, toing and froing between right and wrong.
Then the claws anger had quickly found their purchase, as fury seized her by the throat, veined her body and flared her nostrils with rage.
Afterward, a fleeting notion of insensitivity had come upon her, a coldness, in which she berated Ezralaya for her wantonness, I'd warned her, she'd scorned, resolving that that she had no one to blame but herself and her lustful urges. She chose to play with Lions, and now she's shocked that she's been mauled.
However, empathy quickly prevailed over those sentiments of pitilessness. Seeing her dearest friend beleaguered by regret and self-loathing seemed punishment enough. Ezralaya did not need Theodora's condemnations to tell her what she already knew.
Theodora had awoken early. The sky was growing light, but still the sun had not yet seen fit to rise.
Ezralaya had begun to rouse a short while later. She rubbed at her eyes, crusted by flakes of sleep, and stretched herself awake. She looked as exhausted as Theodora felt.
"Good Morning." Theodora's throat croaked with aridness, the tacky taste of last night's wine lay heavily upon her tongue. Ezralaya made no response except that of a meek smile.
She twisted her body away from Ezralaya in order to reach her cup from the bedside table. The cup held the half-filled, lukewarm residues from the almond milk she had supped on the previous night to try and ease her into a peaceful sleep, though that was before Ezralaya had entered the room, and collapsed weeping down into the divan. After that, no amount of almond milk could bring her to rest.
The thick tepid liquid eased the tenderness of her raw rubbed throat, though a sour aftertaste lingered long after. She slumped back down onto the bed, slipping beneath the soft coverlets, whilst the milk trickled down her gullet.
Ezralaya was gazing, vacant of emotion, her thumb nail continually stroking across her bottom lip in a soothing, hypnotic motion.
"Do you want to talk about it?" Theodora asked, rolling onto her side and propping her head upon her elbow.
"Not really." Ezralaya dismissed with a weighty sigh, flattening out the hair that had becomes mused by night, blending it back into the ripples of her unravelling plaits, as if to busy herself with distraction.
"Very well." Theodora acquiesced, falling back onto the mattress, not wanting to pry or push. She knew Ezralaya would talk when she was ready.
Silence ensued for a short while. Though that was until Ezralaya's meek voice trembled through the stillness.
"I'm so sorry Theodora. I have let you down." She bit down hard onto her lip so steady her tremors.
Theodora's head rotated to the side once again and sympathy latch onto her heartstrings.
"You don't need to apologise to me. You don't need to apologize to anyone." Ezralaya nodded, her lips compressed tightly into thinned lines. "You are by no means the only woman to ever give into her desires."
"But I gave into them for someone so unworthy."
Theodora found herself without a response, as she agreed with Ezralaya's painful truth, but neither wanted to admit that she agreed nor discourage the truth with blandishments.
Theodora sighed; "What's done is done." It was a poor resolve, but all that she could think to offer. The words brought no comfort to Ezralaya, seen as she proceeded to grasp at the bed sheets with tight fists, signifying the inner turmoil raging within her.
"Are you sure he didn't…..." her words trailed into silence as Ezralaya unexpectedly looked up. Looking into her glossy eyes slowly drowning in pity, made the question all the more difficult to purport.
"Didn't what?" Ezralaya probed, with an almost defensive demeanour about herself.
Theodora found her strength from somewhere deep within, knowing her question manifested magnitude. "Are you should he didn't force himself upon you?" Ezralaya looked faintly, but palpably appalled by the evocation.
"No, he didn't. I already told you that." she quickly dismissed. A sadness through remembrance washed over her once again.
"Well then what has he done that's caused your heart such pain?" Theodora asked gently, freeing her arm from beneath the layers of bedding, to place a hand upon Ezralaya's, hoping a consoling gesture would encourage her to disclose the happenings of the night past.
Ezralaya went to speak, her mouth moved, a breath exhaled, but her attempt was futile. Her mouth clamped shut and her eyes screwed up tight. Theodora gave an encouraging squeeze to her hand, and felt her clasp back as if in a silent show of thanks.
She took a deep breath, and steadied herself.
"Help me draw a bath, and I'll tell you whilst I bathe?" It was a peculiar compromise seeing as it was incredibly early in the morning to be having a bath, but Theodora felt willing to concur, knowing sleep would not hold her again in its cradle until the forthcoming nightfall.
"Very well."
As wearied and as heavy as her limbs felt, she managed to pursue herself out of the bed. The more she moved the quicker her tiredness weaned, and the nimbler she felt. By the time they had begun to pour pails of hot water into the tub, she could barely tell that she was functioning on an inadequate amount of sleep.
The pool within the washroom took too long to fill, and so they had opted to fill the tub, which they had dragged from the back room and situated in the center of her bedroom, between the two divans. Ezralaya went around the room lighting numerous candles seen as the lights of day were not quite sufficient enough to brighten the room. The room looked like a séance by the time they were finished, with high rising steam catching the glare of the candles and turning the air into a fusion of wispy spirals.
Ezralaya swiftly stripped and descended into the water, desperate to cleanse herself. She scrubbed hard at her skin, chaffing away invisible adulterations that could not be seen, only felt. Her skin was abraded raw by the time Theodora tipped the final pail into the bath.
Steam rose high in the room, circulating up into the air in wispy spirals. Ezralaya reveled in the heat, to her, the hotter the water, the more it purged. Bubbling, boiling water, heated straight from a naked flame could be tipped into her bath and she would not flinch, only coo in indulgence.
"Don't scrub so hard." Theodora cautioned, whilst tipping the essence of lavender into the water, which turned its deep depths opaque with drifting milk clouds. "You'll hurt yourself." She then sprinkled minerals into the water which were believed to seep into the pours, though she doubted that it'd be enough to make Ezralaya feel clean. Theodora then sprinkled a handful of cobalt salts and some crushed vanilla pods into the water, whilst rose petals floated atop, contently swaying in the motions, wilting in the steam.
Ezralaya lay back into the water, sinking down into its heat, and then rejoicing in the feeling of distilment. She'd freed her hair from constraint, and the ends were floating atop the water's surface. Theodora watched on as she inhaled the scents of the effervescing crystals, allowing their natural curative powers to soothe and heal her spiritual qualms.
Theodora retrieved a cushion from the adjacent divans, and seated herself upon the floor beside the tub.
"So? Are you going to enlighten me as to what has grieved your heart, so much more than just mere regret?" Despite the heat of the bath which turned the air damp, Ezralaya had grown to look cold. She shivered, drawing her knees up high near her chin, attempting to fortify her inner strength against the truth of painful matters.
"I'm not judging you, you know that, right?" Ezralaya nodded.
"I just… I can't bear to think of it." she admitted, swiping a damp palm across her face, rubbing her fingertips into the grooves of her eyes.
"Was it something he said? Or something he did?" Theodora asked tentatively, attempting to ease her into the motions of conversation gently.
"It was something he said." Ezralaya shivered as she ruminated. Her eye's glistened in a spectacle of despair, though the tightening of her eyes eclipsed the watery sparkles.
Theodora hates seeing Ezralaya so plagued and fraught with remorse from something as seemingly innocent as following her desires. Yet never in her their four years of friendship had Theodora ever seen her Ezralaya so desolate by the disdains of some mere man.
Words are wind she'd always said. Alas, whatever Jaime Lannister had said to her had not been blown away by the wind, but had settled into soil and taken root within her thoughts.
"What was it that he said?" Theodora questioned gently, acutely aware of the delicacy needed in asking. Her arm rested along the lip of the tub, her head reposed upon it, staring gently, awaiting patiently whilst Ezralaya readied herself to answer.
Ezralaya shivered as she ruminated. She spoke through a long exhale, propelling the words out with desperate haste; "After we'd done what we did…" she visibly withered, a tremble twitched through her fingers, and so she locked them together tightly around her enfolded legs. She pressed her cheek down into her knee, tilting her head toward Theodora.
She was getting choked up even in her brace of telling, though after a moment and an abrasive gulp she found the potency to continue; "He said, how much do I owe you?"
Theodora waited for further tellings but nothing more came.
"Is that it?" she questioned, sounding a little more apathetic than what she would've liked. Ezralaya nodded, a single tear trickled its way down her neck, puddling upon the apex of her bended knee.
"Well that wasn't very nice." Theodora responded, doing her best to console with what little she had.
"I was so aghast I struck him." Theodora stared back vacantly, void of expression giving away nothing that was inscribed upon her internal scriptures. "Why are you looking at me like that?" Ezralaya asked.
"I'm going to ask you one more time..." She nodded, sharply, her eyes awander in unease. "Are you sure he didn't force himself on you?"
Ezralaya's face winced tightly as her eyes narrowed, straining to see the reasons behind Theodora's reiterated question. "No." she answered sternly, her mouth hardly moving. Her voice austere, and partially hoarse with suppressed emotion.
"Did he force you to do something you didn't want to do?"
"What? No." the water splashed as she frolicked about in a state of bewilderment. "What are you getting at Theodora?" Usually Ezralaya had the patience of Septa, however upon this day her temper was short, and Theodora was wrenching it tight with such capacity as to snap.
"May I speak freely?"
"Of course." Ezralaya retorted.A tenseness outlined her silhouette, as she braced herself for words that she knew she did not truly want to hear.
"I'm a little perplexed at the extent of your woe. His words were undoubtedly spiteful, but far worse things have lain upon your ears, over the years. So, I'm struggling to fathom why you are so crestfallen over a mere jape that's been said a thousand times before." Ezralaya stared back vacuously. A single bead of water trickled down from her knee and into the stratum of stagnant water awaiting beneath.
She shrugged, her collar bones danced beneath a thin layer of bronzed skin. "I don't know." She answered, sounding annoyed that she had no answer.
"Do you love him?" Ezralaya shot forward, the water thrashing around her, in frothy milky waves.
"Do I love him? What sort of question is that Theodora?" her brow was lined by furrows of irritation, which streaked down to her temples. Her hair hung low and heavy with the weight of the water at the tips, covering her breasts as they came above the water level.
Theodora stayed firm, with her chin rested upon her arms, lain on the edge of the tub. Her eyebrows raised playfully, but Ezralaya was not in any way amused.
"Well you obviously bear a fondness toward him to let him do to you what he did." Ezralaya sunk back down into the water, shaking her head in incense. "You can shake your head all you like, but it must be partly true." Theodora added, trying to sound rational.
"I'm not in love with him – that was a stupid thing to say." Theodora titled her head slightly, as though admitting she was partially wrong, just to keep the peace. "I just – care what he thinks, for some reason." she breathed deeply, pressing her fingertips in deep into her forehead, as if trying to ward off a headache. "I enjoyed his company, I found him amusing. I liked how I felt when I was in his company. I trusted him – and I was a fool for doing so."
"What he said; they're just words. You always say to me that words are only what the mind makes them out to be."
"It was humiliating." Ezralaya answered. "Whether my mind made it out that way or not."
"Humiliation is only ever short-lived – a lesson learned."
"And abstinence lost." She responded with a caustic smile. "Will you fetch some more hot water, it's gone tepid."
"Tepid?" Theodora's fingers ceased drawing spirals upon the water's surface. "It's steaming."
"Well I've grown cold." Just do as she bids. She's out of sorts.
"Very well. I'll go and heat some." She pushed herself off and did what was requested.
Ezralaya spent the whole of the morning, bathing in what must have been becoming her own filth. Her skin was shriveling and her pours were gaping by the cleansings of the cobalt salts. Nonetheless she seemed content to lay and stew, bound by the silence of her thoughts. Theodora tottered on around her, her bare feet pattering along the black marble floor.
Firstly, she made the bed, layer by layer, placing the plush pillows at the top of the bed, plumping them into shape. Then she finished her sewing of the shirts that they were making for those unable to afford clean linen down in Flea Bottom. Then she laid out Ezralaya's clothes for the day, as well as shoes, jewels and her chosen headpiece. She pulled the drapes open, and the morning sun pierced the glass with perforates of yellow radiance. The Black Water was rippling and rolling peacefully in the distance, crawling up the shore with white fingers.
"It's a beautiful day for berry picking." Theodora spoke as she tied the shimmering bronze tassel around the pulled crimson drape to hold them to the side.
Ezralaya had promised Lilia and Lalia that she would take them down to the gardens after they had been disappointed about not being able to come to Flea Bottom, and Theodora hoped that Ezralaya would withstand her promise as she always did, and not let them down over her follies concerning Jaime Lannister of all people.
Theodora kept her gaze cast across the vista, doubting an answer would succeeded.
"It is." A woe infused voice responded to her surprise. Instantly she looked over her shoulder and saw that Ezralaya was once again consumed by silent weeps.
Looking at her from across the room, hunched, feeble and teary, made Theodora realize that something was very amiss. He's truly hurt her, far more than what I'd thought. She realized that the ails which caused her such irrepressible anguish were far more than physical afflictions or an imbalance of humors, these infirmities were the grievances of the heart and soul. Far more heartrending and much harder to cure.
"Oh my Ezra." She rushed over to be by her side and dropped to her knees.
Her arm reached forward and pulled her in for an embrace. She could feel the moisture seeping off her naked body and dampening her night clothes, but she didn't care, she'd failed to see her friend's true distress until now.
"It's not that bad. I promise you." Her hand stroked the still dry hair upon the crown of her head.
"But it is." She pulled back, tears were smudged in damp splotches across her cheeks. Her eyes were red rimmed, and her lips pouted in misery.
"I gave everything away, to him. And all because he bestowed a few kind words and the flutters of flattery upon me." a sob shuddered up and out of her; "Now all is gone. And I loathe him for he has awaken that part of me again." Her legs clenched tightly together, to dull the throb of want that Theodora could barely remember herself.
The only time she'd experience such a sensation was with a sailor's son when she was just a young girl trawling the streets of Volantis. Only one and three she assumed she'd been, not long after she'd fled her from her whoremaster, a year or so before meeting Ezralaya. His name was Jaxton she recalled, Jaxton of Braavos, he'd declared himself upon their first meeting. He had dark hair and eyes that could bend an iron rod into smolder. His father, a big-eared, big-belied man as her mind retained, had hired her for a night for his son's pleasure.
Back then she couldn't afford to be choosy, though the Sailors son had emerged as an oddity. He'd taken her to his cabin and bedded her like a paramour would his lover. He'd had her numerous times that night, ravished her with kisses and left her aching for more. He'd used his mouth upon her in a way that no man had before. Her cries had been so shrill that she could have shattered the nighttime stars given the chance.
Though the morning soon came and all felt over, she'd left awash with dejection. However, he'd come and sought her out within the Squalor of Volantis before he embarked to Mantary's. She given herself to him once more, free of charge. Despite that he'd had her up the wall of some narrow alley, she'd felt like she'd reached the dwellings of all worldly pleasures and been privy to a taste. Before he left, he'd kissed her deeply, with his fingers entwined into her hair. Into her ear he'd whispered the promises of the world, vowing to return to her upon the Western tide.
Six years had passed and Jaxton of Braavos had never returned to her. Perhaps her Jaime was my Jaxton. I'd wept too, she recalled.
"It'll fade." Theodora said softly, hoping she sounded more certain that she felt.
Ezralaya wiped her eyes with her wet fingers, replacing the streaks of her tears with blots of smudged moisture.
"He's played me like such a fool." Her lips pursed and then compressed in despair.
"And shame on him." Theodora looked at her directly into her eyes, trying earnestly to alleviate her sense of guilt, whilst endeavoring to instill a waiver of vigor back into her, to reinforce her feisty temperament. "He is man without honor, the world knows that much." She continued. "And not to mention the fact that he's the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. Sworn for life and forbidden to own lands, to take a wife and father children, and yet still he bedded you. He mostly like berated you with those words to make him feel better about himself. He's no true knight and he's not worthy of your tears." Ezralaya nodded, is that clarity I see emerging behind those watery eyes?
Ezralaya's mouth opened to speak, and Theodora patiently awaited her words, urging them to be of sound resolve. However, they never had the chance to reach volumes, as the sounded of pattering feet and frivolous giggles began to approach.
"They're coming." Ezralaya rasped, her throat still charred with anguish. She leant forward to splash her face with the water beneath, to mingle her tears away. "Say nothing. Especially to Bo, she'd be so disappointed." She whispered sharply. "Promise?"
"I promise." Theodora vowed with true assurance.
The door to Ezralaya's bedroom opened, and in walked Boeenna, Briar, Albany, and the Moonsky twins, gowned and beautified.
Lilia and Laila had the suns zest infused in their auras. Both were smiling from ear to ear, dressed in pale pink gowns befitting their age, with pearly bows tied in their hair. Both left Albany's side and darted across the room to where Theodora and Ezralaya were situated. Their eager, glee coated faces, proved to be contagious as even Ezralaya could not help but smile to see them.
Lalia came bounding into Theodora's arms, whilst Lilia stood on her tip toes and reached forward to place an adoring kiss upon Ezralaya's cheek. Theodora breathed in Laila's scent, the sweet smell of pure, unadulterated innocence. Theodora held her tightly, stroking her feather-light white blonde hair against the fragile crown of her head.
The twins always acted as a reminder to Theodora that goodness still existed in the world, and that not every child was forced to have a childhood as horrific as her own. Lilia and Laila were the glimmer of hope of a better world, of a better time. A glimmer that seemed feasible yet still so out of reach for a warring world.
"Did you miss me?" Theodora asked, craning her neck to pepper Laila's chubby cheeks with copious mushy kisses. She giggled ecstatically as the tickling sensation became unbearable for her. "Did you?" Theodora probed, kissing her again to draw an answer.
"I did, I did." Lalia gasped, breathless with laugher.
"Good!" Theodora beamed.
An endearing laugh which was noticeably Ezralaya's resonated blessedly into their air. Theodora looked to see what had caused her laughter. It was Lilia twizzling and twirling in her pretty dress that had Ezralaya chortling once again.
"A bath in the morning, that's unlike you Ezra." Boeenna spoke, settling down on one of the divans to the left the bath tub.
"I watched the sunrise." Ezralaya answered, settling back down into the cloudy water, fizzing with essence and all perched themselves on the divans, including Theodora who pushed herself up from the cushion on the floor realizing that she still remained in her nighttime attire. Lilia and Lalia were quick to sit either side of her.
"Are we still going to pick flowers and berries?" Lilia asked, absentmindedly twizzling Theodora's night-tousled hair around her dainty little finger.
"Of course." Ezralaya answered, with a promising smile.
"Ezra may I borrow your golden butterfly fastenings for my hair?" Albany asked, already standing knowing that Ezralaya would permit her.
"You may." Ezralaya answered, with a slight smile. "They are atop the vanity chest in the washroom." Albany thanked her, and headed out the room to retrieve them.
"How was last night?" Briar asked, her hair newly streaked with chalks of lilac. Theodora tensed when she noticed Ezralaya's jaw had locked.
Just when the silence was about to become uncomfortable, Ezralaya found a word to offer; "Enlightening." She spoke. How apt. "How was your night?" Ezralaya question, swiftly veering away from her own tales of the night just passed.
"It was wonderful. Did Theodora tell you what happened?" Briar questioned.
"Tell me what?" Briar looked perplexed at Ezralaya's unknowingness. It's because we tell each other everything. Ezralaya shrugged.
"What on earth have you been talking about all morning?" She laughed lightly to herself.
"Theodora has told me lots." Ezralaya answered simply. "Which are you speaking of?"
Theodora intervened, it all felt very odd for Ezralaya to be oblivious; "You know about that squire declaring his love for me."
"Oh yes I remember." Ezralaya forced a laugh, and they all smiled a long with her. She latched onto Theodora's eyes and signed an apologetic smile over to her. Do not be sorry my friend. Tales of infatuated squire boys can wait another day.
Albany walked soundlessly back into the room, but Ezralaya took note and made use of her reemergence.
"Albany, your name day shall soon be upon us, I was thinking perhaps we could have a little revelry within my rooms, invite our new friends, and make merry of it all."
"Yes, that'd be very lovely." Albany answered, and all those around seemed to agree, even Boeenna who seldom partook in carousing. "Will you put those in for me?" she spoke to Briar, passing over the fastenings, who'd silently agreed to be of assistance.
"We can invite the Tyrell cousins and Queen Margaery" Briar injected excitedly, whilst she slide the glistening pins into Albany strawberry blonde locks.
"Indeed!" Albany answered with the same level of enthusiasm. "Just think of it, a Queen of Westeros attending my name day celebrations."
"Do not raise your hopes to high dear Albany." Boeenna spoke, trying to keep Albany's delight at bay. "Her Grace is a busy Lady."
"Indeed." Albany agreed, but still her excited smile had not diminished in the slightest.
"What about my name day?" Lalia asked with an adorable pout compressing her rosy lips.
"You had your name day in Braavos." Theodora quipped tapping at her button nose. She squirmed away in a fit of giggles.
"I want another one!" Lilia protested sweetly, "I had to share that one with Lalia." No one could help but to laugh at her tender simplicity.
Boeenna spoke through her laughs; "Lilia you will always….." their laughs suddenly dwindled down into an unnerving silence.
The sound of a commotion resonated into the air. Heavy handed gesticulations and pounding feet approached with a purpose, nearing closer and closer to the room. Their ears pricked up to listen, as they all froze in time. Stillness was all around, even the rippling motions of the water engulfing Ezralaya had come to a curious cease. Their eyes were fixed upon the door, where the sound was increasing as the ruckus neared.
"You can't go in there!" someone called aloud, as the sound of scuffing stop-staring feet grew more pronounced. Theodora strained to listen harder. Whose voice is that? Finnlay? Theodora felt her eyes wander eagerly, desperate for a sight to lay them upon. The silence is painful, and the suspense is a killer.
"My Lord, you cannot go in there!" The voice called out, though it attained no reply. "My Lord you cannot!" My Lord? Before Theodora's mind could begin to wonder, the source of her quandaries burst into her room. Golden haired, green eyed, with determination upon his brown, stood the man without honor. Swine.
The room remained in a state of utter bewilderment. Boeenna, Briar and Albany looked utterly baffled by his presence. And Ezralaya looked astonished, mortified, enraged, and pitiful all at one.
Very quickly fury seized Theodora. Night clad and bed disheveled, she launched up into a stance before she'd even fathomed her thoughts. "That is no way to enter a Ladies bedchamber. You forget yourself Ser." She spat, her face contorted by the caprices of utter revulsion.
Though the Kingslayer didn't even acknowledge her, his eyes were fixated upon Ezralaya, whose own gaze wandered anywhere but upon him.
"Ezra, please. I need to speak with you." He implored longingly with bated breath. I wonder Ser how is it you can stand so straight without a spine?
"Ezra!?" Theodora scoffed. "How very brazen you are." Boeenna went to speak as if to reprimand her for her discourtesy, but for once she did not speak out, it was as if the realization of who stood before them had only just truly dawned on her and she did not see fit to preserve him.
Finnalay Harstar was panting like he'd just swam the narrow sea; "Forgive me Princess, I told him no, but he pushed passed." his Volantian accent muddled with his breathlessness made him hard to understand. Finnalay was the sort of person who'd spend the entire day fishing for his dinner, only to catch a fish and find himself incapable of killing it. He'd throw the fish back into the water and wish it well on its travels. However, he would take so long to decide the fate if the fish that it'd already be dead upon entering the water. Not the sharpest tool in the woodshed.
"Ezra, I need to speak with you – It's of urgent matter." The Kingslayer continued, deaf to all else. Though Ezralaya's Ladies had inadvertently formed a sort of barrage around her, to conserve her modesty.
Boeenna spoke up softly, though a prickliness could be detected beneath to all those who knew her well enough. "Ser, as you can see, Ezralaya is in no fit state to speak with anyone." Theodora glanced down to Ezralaya who was staring away into the distance, most likely longing for herself to be anywhere but within the presence of the Kingslayer. "Perhaps another time." Boeenna suggested, far more politely that how he deserved to be spoke to. If only she knew, she'd summon Argo and have him drag him out by his ears. "And if the matter of which you speak is that urgent then surely you can speak freely before us all?"
"Please, Ezra." He spoke, pleadingly, completely heedless to all else said.
Theodora felt herself rear up, the words spewed out before she'd even thought through what to say. He riled her blood with the knowledge of what he'd done, how wretched he'd made her Ezralaya feel, and it was getting harder and harder to repress her hatred.
"She does not wish to speak with you!" Theodora snapped, her fists balled by her sides.
"It's fine Theodora." Ezralaya spoke assertively. "I'll speak with him." As brazen as she had ever seen her be, Ezralaya rose from the bath, dripping and shimmering in nothing but the golden hue of the morning's sun.
The Kingslayer gaped in pure disbelief at her boldness, though that was until the chastising glares of the women in the room, bade that he look away.
"Briar go fetch her robe and towels." Boeenna instructed "quickly!" she added, her voice infused with the haste of which she desired Briar to act upon. The young girl took heed and dashed across the room, no doubt dumbfounded by the bizarre play of events that were unfolding.
Whilst they waited a silence like Theodora have never quite known emerged. She turned and looked upon Ezralaya, who's eyes were fixated upon the unseeing Kingslayer. No longer did she look meek and mild and pitiful, she appeared strong and bold and brave.
Briar returned, and they quickly busied themselves around her, trying to conceal her modesty as best they could. They toweled her off, donned her into her night robe and plaited her hair into a loose three strand plan, to severer the droplets.
She stood tall in her thin silken nigh robe of pinky purples and greeny blues, in a miscellany of pastoral patterns. A slash tied around her waist, whilst the inner swells of her breasts peaked out where the two sides crossed low over her abdomen.
She turned to them, her hands held before her body; "Ladies you can all head on to the flower gardens like we planned, I'll join you there shortly. You may go." Each, reluctantly with wary eyes began to head out of the room, sharing mystified glances between one another.
"Come on." Albany spoke, reaching for Lilia and Lalia's hands. Both seemed reluctant to go but thankfully left without a fuss.
"Theodora." Ezralaya called out, and they all came to a halt, as if she'd named each one. "Will you remain behind to help me dress afterward?"
"Of course." Theodora agreed. "I'll be in the next room." she supplemented. Theodora pulled the door to her bedroom, ensuring to leave a gap so that she'd be able to witness all that was being said.
"What on earth is going on?" Briar spoke, concern tapering her eyes as if she was trying to penetrate her gaze through the thick wooden door.
"I don't know." Boeenna sighed, her fingers tapping wildly upon her lips, as though mimicking the pace of her thoughts. "Theodora do you know what all that was about?" She asked. Boeenna's gaze turned upon her, whilst she was absentmindedly nibbling on her own fidgeting finger.
Though it was Briar who interceded first; "I mean he said it was urgent, but what business could he have with her that's so urgent? And she was so reticent to speak with him? It was like she didn't even know he was there. Why would she do that?" So many questions, and so much that must remain unsaid.
"Don't you think she looked like she'd been crying as well?" Albany quivered, though it was a question of which Theodora had no intention of answering. She knew she had to speak up before further speculation began to cultivate, and fester into the truth.
"I believe it was in regards to King Tommen." She lied, "His mother think's that Ezralaya has been too familiar with him." All their faces creased in bafflement.
"What?" Briar question. "That's nonsense."
"Exactly!" Theodora agreed, with false enthusiasm to bolster her lies. "That's why she does not have the care or interest to discuss such trifles."
"How bizarre." Boeenna mused, stroking her chin in thought. "But I suppose that makes sense." Theodora nodded, wondering to what extent Boeenna believed it to be true, that is, if any at all. "Anyway, let us go sweet girls, as Ezra said – There are many berries to be picked."
She swayed her hand to the door, and they left with hesitate steps and shuffles full of trepidation. Each glancing back over their shoulder, rigid with unease. Especially Briar, whose expression rested entirely upon incredulity, Theodora attempted to offer her a reassuring smile as she crossed the threshold of the door. Except her sustained dour countenance, verified that it had delivered no such avail.
She knows something's amiss – they all do - How could they not? It's like a rotten apple in a fruit bowl.
As soon as they'd exited, Theodora treaded back across the room and pressed her head against the door frame, her right eye peeking through the narrow fissure.
Within the gap, her view was constricted. She maneuvered the angle of her head slightly, which enabled both bodies to be aligned within the opening. The Kingslayer still remained in the placed he had stood upon entering the room. He has his back to Theodora, whereas Ezralaya faced her.
Neither appeared to have spoken. Ezralaya began to pace up and down.
"Ezra, please." He spoke, taking a step closer, which then brought her to an unsettling halt.
Theodora longed for the fiery, fierce Ezralaya to turn around. Incensed and riled to the core. To which she would then smite Ser Jaime Lannister into derisory tatters, and declare him the piece of shit that the world knew him to be.
"We need to talk." He continued, in answer to her taciturnity.
"Oh, do we?" she whirled around like an ominous tornado, churning with black clouds and fitful spews of dust and debris. "Well I have nothing to say to you." Ezralaya all but spat at him. Her hands were thrown on her hips, her shoulders thrown back, and her chin raised.
Theodora could tell even from a distance that her might was deriving from her amounted anger. She is livid and I pray she lets him know.
"I'm sure that's not true – because I have plenty of things I wish to say." Jaime continued his voice and stance, meek in comparison to hers. He's really nothing special, Theodora thought staring at the back of his head. Just a man with a title, dressed in sparkly amour, with a glorified family name.
"Go on then." Ezralaya spoke, with wild eyes and thrashing gestures.
Theodora wished she could Ezralaya not to use up all of her suppressed anger too soon. She feared that the wick of her red-hot riled core may burn out, and leave behind the wretched girl who'd sniveled and blubbered in the bath tub.
A silence followed. Now that Ezralaya had found the strength to look upon him, her eyes did not leave him. In fact, they carried to potency to command him to speak.
Go on Kingslayer, explain yourself.
With one ragged cough, that seemed to clear a chesty blockage, he spoke aloud; "I am sorry for what I said." Ezralaya did not move, her expression neither changed nor even flickered. Like a statue, a cold, hard statue, with little remorse for the groveling man. "It was intended as a joke, but then I heard it aloud and instantly I knew…." His voice trickled out as hers overwhelmed like a tidal wave, drowning his idiocies.
Her angst cut him short, as his voice trickled out, and he proceed to flounder in his idiocies; "That's your idea of a joke?" even from a distance her anger was blatant.
His voice was full of air as he attempted to construct a defense; "I know, I know." He took a step closer, though she withdrew further from him, maintaining the distance. "It was tasteless, and done in bad jest. But was by no means intended maliciously."
"Could you not have said that last night?" Ezralaya retorted, in a surprisingly impassively mannrer.
"You ran off so quickly…." He answered. Feebly.
"I thought it was a hand you lost." She spoke.
"It was." The Kingslayer replied hesitantly, somewhat bemused by the question and the unforeseen shift in conversation.
"Oh, so both your legs still function normally?" His head hung forward, as he began to comprehend that he was in the presence of mockery. "And could've therefore, walked you here, so that you could've explain your tasteless jest?" Theodora presumed that he looked a loss for words, as silence succeeded.
All his life he's stood behind crimson robes and white cloaks, he's never been made to justify himself. Clearly his sword wielding skills spoke all that he'd ever needed to say.
"But no – instead you decided to let me endure the whole night, re-living those words over and over again."
"I just thought you might've wanted to be left alone – I'm here now though, and I'm sorry. Truly, truly, sorry." His voice exhibited a hint of plea, though only through his added emphasis within his repetition of truly, though that was as sincere as it got in Theodora's opinion."I didn't mean the words I spoke."
"It's not even about the words you spoke, it's the fact you said them and thought it joke."
"It was just careless stupidity." He rejoined as quickly as his voice could finds its volumes.
"To have said them, means you must've thought them, and to think them, means that you see me in the same way everybody else does."
"No – Ezra – I don't." His voice was weakening, and by his posture, it seemed so was his resolve. Ezralaya's head fell forward as she spoke. Stay strong, Theodora urged silently from nearby.
Ezralaya went to speak, but then seemed to swallow her words back down. She breathed deeply, and slowly, expanding and contracting her bare upper chest in measured fluctuations. She looked up, her eyes rendered forlorn, red-rimmed with the promise of brewing tears.
"It wasn't a choice you know…." She began, her voice unsteady, dim, induced with heartache. Theodora felt her own heart clench sensing what she was about to begin speaking of. "What I did all those years, what I had to do – it was never my choice."
A flash of ferocity bustled from her lips. Her body trembled in the suppression of rage, amalgamated by the infatuations of woe; "I was desperate..." Her lip juddered as her jaw clenched and rippled the sinews in her neck. "I was ten years old. I had no one. I had no money, I had no home. I had nothing to my name. I had nothing. I had no choice." She reiterated, with clenched teeth.
Her whole body had taken on a much more disconcerting aura, one that was far more unsettling than the emittance of fiery wroth. Anger was transient whereas the sentiments she was exhibiting were far more ingrained. They were raw and weeping emotions.
Theodora could feel her own eyes welling up as she listened to Ezralaya speak of times that they seldom mentioned. People only ever saw the present finery of their lives; they never saw the desperation and heartache of which they had founded their dreams upon.
Do it or die was how they'd lived day by day. Either submit to wanting men, or submit to starvation.
Alas, men like Jaime Lannister had no comprehension of how the real world functioned. Theodora reasoned that if he'd possessed any, no matter how marginal or minor, understanding of their childhood's happenings, then he'd never have even dreamed of uttering such a thoughtless jest.
After all he'd lived within a palace, garbed in crimson silks, with a belly full of venison, whilst two helpless girls had scoured the streets, coxswaining in-between depraved squalor, doing all they could do to stay alive.
It enraged Theodora that he could be so ignorant. Anger and anguish were a lethal combination, and they were both boiling erratically within the pit of Theodora's stomach. I hate men like him. I have enough hate for him, for us both.
"And yes, perhaps in the end, it became a choice..." Ezralaya continued, her voice strained and wrought with a merger of emotions, all comprising together in a lump of sorrow settling itself at the frontage of her slender neck. "But why shouldn't it?" her hands floundered around her body, as she sought for an answer to affix to her rhetorical question. Theodora couldn't see the Kingslayers face, but she hoped that it was twisted by incompetence, tinged with the ugly colour of shame.
"Why shouldn't I have taken every ounce of gold from the men who abused me and defiled me? Why shouldn't I have sought vengeance on the Madame who sold me – You see, I burnt her brothel to the ground and threw the ashes her face. Because I had every right to take back every penny that those whoremasters made when they rented me out for their profit."
The Kingslayer offered no signs of response. His head remained bowed, seen as his notorious haughtiness appeared to be being tapered into indignity.
Theodora knew little about Ezralaya's life before their union had commenced, much like Ezralaya knew little about her own. It seemed better that way, as though the less who knew made the possibility of forgetting a little more feasible.
What Theodora did know was that Ezralaya had been tricked by a nefarious woman, who went by the solicitous name of Madame Volanti. She'd promised Ezralaya, a home, food, clothes, and to become the mother she had lost. And Ezralaya, ten years old, alone, naïve and scared, had believed her.
She'd been made to sign a piece of parchment, bequeathing herself unto the licentiousness of Madame Volanti's intentions. That same woman, who'd promised a little lost girl a chance of salvation, who'd dangled hope and happiness before her weeping eyes, had sold her for an extortionate price that very same night.
Ezralaya had never gone into detail, and in truth Theodora had never wanted to know.
Ezralaya had been forced to stay with Madame Volanti for less than a year, that was until she had been sold to a husband and wife; Madame and Master Zamila. They owned a large establishment full of girls whose purity has been tarnished and ruined. Girls no longer so prized for one reason or another.
Ezralaya knew the reason she'd been expelled from Madame Volanti's, and Theodora knew also, seen as she herself had also been put through the horror of a Crones doctory.
Ezralaya had told Theodora how, at the age of twelve, she had once again been sold. This time to a man named Cairo Stanliq, who owned a pleasure-house near the river Volena. To this day still deemed him the cruellest man she'd ever know. After a month or so of enduring his cruelty and the abuse of his client's merciless hands, she'd fled into the night, and hid within the squander of Volantis. A few days later, one starless night, Ezralaya and Theodora had first met, breaking bread together down some piss-swilled alley.
From across the room, a potent strain of confidence appeared to surface within Ezralaya, as from nowhere, she so boldly asked; "Do you know how much a Volantian man would pay for a fair-headed, ten-year-old, Westerosi virgin?" He made no answer. "Do you?" she snapped.
"No." He uttered, though his words were more air than volume.
"One-thousand dragons is your answer." I wish I could see his face. "Perhaps that doesn't seem like a lot to you Lordly men, but to the humble folk of Essos, that's a lot of money. Money of which I never saw a penny of." By the rapidity of Ezralaya's blinks it became evident that tears had begun their descent. "I'll never forgot that night. And for a long while, that is what fired my fury and made me so determined to take back what I had lost. And so, I proclaimed myself the best in the known world – and they all came flocking and fell for it. What a fortune I made from their stupidity." A sardonic laugh broke out between her lips.
"It's not my fault that men are made so foolish by the swains of lusts. I just played them for the fools they are." She paused for a moment, and then, "I wish there could have been some other way – but I'm not like you – I wasn't born in a castle, I didn't have parents, I wasn't blessed with the fortunes of my ancestors. I did the best with what I had."
The Kingslayer, as before, remained mute. But Ezralaya appeared to show no signs of stopping.
"So, tell me, why was it only ok for me to be a whore when I was forced to be?" Ezralaya looked bewildered by the concept of which she spoke, glaring at the Kingslayer to enlighten her to that of man's impunity. He of course remained without answer.
"Why aren't the men who abuse little girls and harm little boys scorned in the same way that I am? Why aren't they the sinful ones? – why me? When all I ever tried to do was to make the best of myself." A guttural rasp began to char at her words; "Yet no matter what I do, no matter how hard I try to expiate for my sins, it is men like you that throw them back in my face at any and every opportunity you get – like it's my shame."
The Kingslayer eventually spoke, though he didn't look up; "All I can do is apologize, and ask for your forgiveness." He's detained by shame. He cannot bear to look her in the eye.
"I see you now for what everyone told me you were. For all that I ignored." Her face crumpled as her the furrows of anguish lined her face deepened into crevices.
"I'm not as they say…" he tried to protest, but failed miserably.
"Yes, you are!" Ezralaya overruled. "When I first saw you, that night in the Great Hall, I finally understood what the songs meant when they spoke of gallant knights – and I was blinded by it. Even after hearing all the things that people say about you; about your dishonor, your transgressions, your unnatural closeness with you sister – still, I turned a blind eye. If only you could've ignored my indiscretions, as I chose to ignore yours." His face must have winced as his whole posture seemed jolted.
"Ezra, please..." He tried. Again, so ineffectual. His head fell forward, but he did not attempt to deny what she'd spoke. Perhaps his desires are as perverse as the Braavosian's had said.
"It's not nice to have the things you hate the most about yourself, used against you."
"That was never my intention." Jaime protested firmly, taking a step closer toward, and this time Ezralaya did not recoil away. Instead she cast her gaze away.
"You weren't the first man to make that joke – you were just the first man I never thought would say it."
He stepped forward, no doubt compelled through culpability, though she flinched his touch away; "Tell me what can I do to make this right?" He voice held the strains of plea.
"Nothing." She answered, impassively. So sweet and simple. "What's done is done."
"So, what does that mean?" He questioned.
"That our union has come to a close. I had been looking for a way to bring it to an end, and now I have one. I will not be at the Red Keep forever, and until I leave I am sure we can get by with common courtesy. You have nothing to fear in regards to the sprouting of a child, as I am almost certain that I cannot bear children. I shall speak no more of this to anyone, as hope you shall not - That is all."
"Just like that?" he questioned, sounding noticeably sad at the prospect.
"Just like that." Again, she spoke so simply, which added all the more poignancy of such an artless statement.
"You may go." She asserted though her sorrow was too prominent to fully veil. "Please." She added on meekly seen as he had ceased to move.
After a moment, and a nod of despair, he turned on his heel and to the door of which Theodora's body was pressed against. Quickly she scarpered, dashing silently away upon the pattering of her bare feet. Quickly she perched on one of the futons that surrounded the fire pit, central to the drawing room.
The door open and he entered. She cast her eyes away, though arose as he neared.
"Perhaps you should stick to King-slaying…..." She spoke, and he came to a halt. His eyes were downcast; heavy and dejected. He looked at her bewilderedly, as if she'd spoke a foreign language. "…. jesting evidently isn't your forte." His eyes closed despairingly, and his head fell forward with a weak, unamused laugh, as though he'd lost the will to do much more.
He said nothing, and simply carried on out of the room with his tail between his legs. Not so lionly now, are you My Lord?
As soon as the sounds of his presence no longer lingered nearby. Theodora headed over into the adjoining room. Upon entering, she saw that Ezralaya had seated herself down upon one of the divans, her body hunched, her head in her hands. Though thankfully she did not appear to be weeping.
"Ezra." Theodora maneuvered around the bath tub, in order to sit by her side. Ezralaya looked to her, and although she was not crying, her eye still retained the same essence of woe as though she were.
"All can be forgotten now." It was easily spoken she knew, but still it sounded comforting to her own ears. Ezralaya turned her body so that she could enable herself to fall into Theodora's embrace. She held her tightly; "I'm so proud you."
"You are?" Ezralaya questioned, pulling back, as though she were stunned.
"Of course. You made a lion a cub. A man a mere shadow. I bet you spoke to him in a way no person has before." Ezralaya gulped away her whimpers and steadied her breathing. You mustn't think yourself as wrong - what you did with him, is just a natural desire, there is no shame in you doing - just perhaps, next time maybe go for a man who is closer to you in age, and not so controversial." Theodora spoke the latter with a smile, but Ezralaya didn't appear to sense the jest within.
"There won't be a next time - I hate him for making me feel like this." Ezralaya affirmed. "And I won't any longer."
"That's the spirit." Theodora whispered imploringly into her ear, pressing a kissing to her cheek. "Come on, let's dress and go down to the gardens. Pick berries and flowers. Too many men have ruin passing days for us, let's not let another spoil such a beautiful one."
A/N- So what do we think? Is Ezralaya being overdramatic? or is her anger justified? Should she forgive Jaime?
Please let me know of your thoughts! Till next time….