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Heart's Blood

The Last Day

Usually, Larra traveled in a litter because, of course, moving on foot was beneath a lady of her station, no matter how bad the fortune that had befallen her. But more and more often, she found herself wishing that she could avoid socializing with the highborn Pentosi ladies. Their condescending courtesy was bad enough but their patronizing sympathy was worse, and behind that, a fear lay, a fear that Larra, having grown up among women not so different from them, could see, although they would never admit it: the fear that one day, they could find themselves in their place. And they fought against that stark reminder by any means they had.

"Perhaps if your brother was less spendthrift…"

"Perhaps if your father had fostered better relationships, instead of wasting you to a savage land…"

"Maybe, if you had been more observant, you would have noticed the signs?..."

Larra smiled and agreed that perhaps, maybe, it was all her House's fault indeed. She knew that while men were those who ruled, women were the ones who held the key to acceptance and she needed that acceptance. She was a fugitive, after all. They could easily turn their husbands, lovers, and brothers against her, so she visited their receptions and solars, listened to their chattering and wished to be elsewhere. When she could avoid it, she didn't go at all.

She was no longer in position to afford merchants coming to her home with their fabrics but she didn't mind going at the markets. The colours, noise, and life there were a welcome change in the smooth but not gentle flow of her own life. With time, she took over her mother's duty, taking care of the household with the help of the few slaves they had. She even made some economies on household expenses, investigating and choosing cheap enough foods and clothes that to make the Master of Coin at King's Landing give her a look of appreciation. Sometimes, she even went to the market herself to look at the goods.

It was one of those days, with the slave girls sent home with the purchases and Larra and the sturdy Evran who had been born into Rogare's service and was now her guard during those excursions walking over to the Street of Silk when she heard a voice that made her stop dead in her tracks.

"No, I am in no hurry," a man was saying. "I told you, this afternoon is just for the two of you and I. There is no need to take the first thing you see. There is enough time."

"But what if there isn't?" a girl's voice asked. "It'll get dark soon and then it'll be time for us to go back."

The man laughed. "No, child. Here, it gets dark far later. Summer is stronger here. You'll have enough time to make all your purchases."

Larra slowly turned. Just as she had expected, she saw them. It was Viserys with a girl who could only be Naerys and a boy that she couldn't recognize. Instinctively, she looked around. Apart from a few guards, there was no one else with them. No second child.

Viserys didn't notice her. He was nodding at something Naerys was telling him in a low voice as they walked down the street, his expression one of utmost seriousness. They walked right by her, so close that Larra could almost touch them. She stilled her hand that was reaching out almost on its own will and realized just how changed they all were. The children had grown up, of course, but Viserys, the only one she could recognize… he had grown up as well and Larra was startled to realize just how young he had been when she had left. His seriousness and constant concerns had made her forget that he had been just a boy. Their son – she still didn't know which one he was – was just as fair-haired and healthy-looking as she had imagined. Naerys, though… She was six years old now, yet she was as small as a four year old and so thin that every whisper of the wind could break her. Did she not eat at all? Her skin was as white as marble and looked as cold as one. No blood added life to her cheeks. The hand holding her father's was just long fingers and protruding knuckles.

"I must choose a present for the Queen today," Naerys said. "And the babe. Do you think she'll like some green silk, Father?" she asked.

Her brother laughed. "She'll be a babe, Naerys," he said. "Even smaller than Baelor and he can't tell a silk from a pallet. And besides, it might be a boy."

By her daughter's voice, Larra could say that she was pouting. "Not a boy!" Naerys protested. "There are too many boys already!"

"There is," Larra's son agreed complacently and she turned her head, no doubt to glare at him. Larra kept walking a few steps behind them, feeling lonely and rejected, as if she had not been the one to bring this upon herself. Viserys knew that she now lived here, yet in his last letter there had been no hint of intention to visit Pentos, let alone bring the children with him. And he hadn't sought her here.

Suddenly, he turned around and Larra made a step back. She had forgotten this sharp perception of his that had scared her since his very first days as a hostage in their palace, the ability to feel when someone was intent on him. She reasoned out that it was a result of his being surrounded by enemies but she had disliked it anyway. Now, he looked straight at her and Larra could tell the exact moment when he recognized her. The shock in his eyes was painful to perceive. But he regained his self-possession almost immediately and shook his head. "Not here," he mouthed and followed the children into the nearest shop. From the door, Larra could see Naerys looking at the silks with more knowledge than any six-year had to have.

"My lady…" Evran said. Perhaps he had recognized Viserys as well... no, he hadn't. Why should he? Viserys had been just twelve when he had left Lys.

"Find out where they are lodged," Larra said. "And tell me immediately. I'm going home. Alone," she added, just to make sure, because the idea of letting her roam the streets on her own clearly did not appeal to him. But she needed to leave before she succumbed to the temptation to call their names the moment they left the shop. Faint hope was slowly pushing its way through her breast but she still couldn't name it, even as she spent the entire afternoon weeping.

To her surprise, it was Viserys who came to her as night drew near, and her mother gasped when she saw him. He gave a curt greeting before turning to Larra. "May I talk to you alone, my lady?" he asked and she nodded, her heart sinking. She led him to her solar and saw that same indifference, that lack of interest about the minutae of her life that he had exhibited back in King's Landing. He didn't even look around to see how she had arranged the room she spent her days in.

"Were you following us?" he asked as soon as he took a seat.

Silently, she shook her head. "I didn't even know you were here," she said and felt that she was trying to find an excuse for this chance meeting.

He looked surprised. "Didn't I tell you in my last letter?"

"No," Larra said immediately. She was certain because she read his letters over and over until she could tell them by heart.

"I thought I had," Viserys said and she wondered if he wanted to hurt her, just like she had hurt him. Was she so insignificant that he didn't bother to remember? She gave him a long look and now she realized what she had missed at their earlier encounter, caught up in the realization that he was a man now: not only he had grown up but he had changed. Any softness, any easiness of interaction had melted away from his features. The facial lines were sharper, the eyes deeper-set. Had she done this? Yes, she had.

"I am sorry," he said. "I've come to negotiate some matters with the magisters. But anyway, I didn't expect that you'd show any interest in a meeting."

Did he really believe this? Why would he not? Larra poured a goblet of wine to him but he didn't touch it.

"How are the children?"

"Do you care?" he asked and immediately reconsidered. "They're fine," he said and paused. "But I'd rather not have you disturb their lives just because fate threw us all in the same city. Naerys isn't feeling very well in the heat. In fact, I am not sure what she and Aemon even know about you."

She gave him a look of disbelief. "You aren't sure?" she echoed. "Don't you know?"

Gods! Never before had she been reminded so cruelly just how young he was. Their children needed a grown up father, not one who was twenty-three.

This time, she had managed to anger him. He almost rose but forced himself to sit back. The fire in his eyes, though, did not fade away. "Listen, Larra! I am taking care of our children. You might not consider my way the best one but it is the best that I can do. And since I wasn't the one who left, you really are in no position to talk!"

Tears sprang to her eyes but she willed them away. He was right, of course, and in this brief fit of undisguised anger she recognized his fears, his attempts to do his best, his realization that it wasn't good enough and the demons that it brought him. "I am sorry," she said. "I didn't mean it like that."

He nodded but didn't say anything.

"Where is Aegon?" she finally asked.

"He's being punished," Viserys said curtly. "At home."

Punished? What could Aegon possibly have done to justify depriving him of a journey to Essos and a few days with just him, his siblings, and their father – an event that Larra already felt did not happen nearly enough? But she did not dare ask. "Can I… do something to help?" she finally asked, realizing just how stupid that sounded.

Viserys shrugged. "If you can push the flatteries and ideas pushed upon him for years that one day, he'd be king, I'd love to have you do this," he said and Larra's heart lurched forward, as if trying to escape through her ribcage. "No? I didn't think so. Yes," he went on, "there were those who made him believe that Aegon will never father an heir and now, he has two. I'd love it if you manage to explain to him just why that's good and right. The Seven see that I seem to be failing. And there is nothing that you can do about Naerys. Her health is as delicate as ever. In fact, I think you can only do one thing – run away again, the moment things get tough."

He wasn't talking hatefully or even heatedly. His voice and eyes were even, as if he was looking through her and not at her.

With stark clarity, Larra realized that Viserys would never take her back. He could never trust her again, his love for her was dead and buried, and the scars were there. She could see them like a map of his soul, the way she had never been able to read him before. Five years later, the wound of having loved her had scarred – badly. She had thought he'd be happier without her, eventually, but now she could see that he wasn't. She didn't believe that he would be. But he wouldn't be happier if he took her back either. There would be no love, no trust to hold them together. Just him wondering when she'd leave again – and perhaps not even caring.

A bout of sweat made her shiver. "Would you mind if I come to watch them… just from afar?" she finally asked.

He thought about this. "Yes," he replied after a while. "But you won't come close. Promise me."

Did he really think that she'd like to upset her children? Larra slowly nodded and as he rose and strode to the door without looking back, she saw, as if coming out of a nightmare, the day that she dreamed of every so often, the day when she had boarded the ship and left them.

The End