"There are other issues that need to be addressed, my Lady." The Grand Maester's stiff words diverts their attention.
"Yes, like who will be appointed as the next hand." I can't even imagine anybody else as Hand of the King, Felix despondently thinks. "I'm sure we all agree that a new Hand is vital if we intend to keep revolts and disruption from happening and everything the former Hand has built from collapsing. The King is still quite...inexperienced concerning matters of the state."
Rachel grinds her teeth. Understatement of the year. He is a year older than I and other than his gullibility and sometimes kindness, he is still less than a tenth of my capabilities.
Grand Maester Aldous shakes his head, the numerous chains clinking against each other."I'm afraid only the King decides and appoints who the next hand is."
"In that case, somebody make sure the King's useless bum is not in a brothel but seated on that chair during the next meeting," she coldly reminds them. Nobody reacts in indignation as is expected when the king is referred to without respect. One, because they know it's true, and two, it was spoken by Rachel Lannister, so nobody would dare. The men simply sigh in reaction to her harsh words, which is basically an act of treason, because they know it to be the shameful truth, but have long accepted it, and because the Hand always managed to fix things and was keeping the kingdoms together. But now the Hand is dead, they uniformly thought.
"The appointment of the new Hand will be decided on the next council meeting, when the King is present." They all nod in agreement.
Someone cleared his throat, and the she shifts in her seat to face Lord Commander Gavin Hardcastle, who voiced his concern. "There is also the issue of the recent vacancy in the Kingsguard. Someone has to fill it."
"That will also be settled during the next meeting, seeing as our beloved King makes the appointments to the Kingsguard."
"Yes, milady."
"If there are no more matters, then we should adjourn and prepare for the guests who will be coming over to pay their respects."
Grand Maester Aldous is the first to say "agreed"
"Agreed," the Lord Commander and Master of Whisperers echo, while Rachel, silently notes the absence of two more Masters.
Cosima's nose instantly crinkles the moment she enters the city. This is definitely the one thing I don't miss. Even from inside the carriage, she can still smell the pungent odor that is distinctively King's Landing. At least it doesn't smell that much as to when I first came here. A frown and a crinkle at her brow appears as she realizes it must have been due to Ethan's efforts, feeling a new wave of loss as she she slowly begins to realize the impact his death would bring. Her thoughts remain on the subject until she hears one of the horses clip clop closer by the carriage blinds.
"Princess, we are nearing the Red Keep." At this, she snaps the window open, sticking her head out, not minding the protests from the royal guard, to gaze at the towers, forming a curved slope when seen from far away. It didn't change much. Maybe a new tower or two. She suddenly feels apprehension as the towers draw nearer and nearer.
This is not the circumstance I imagined when I planned to come here. Would the new Hand even listen to my proposals and plans?
"May I present Princess Cosima Martell of Dorne." Somehow, it always irked her whenever they announced her presence, and though she is surprised that only a few people were in the throne room, less than ten by her count, she prefers it that way, never being fond of being stared at by hundreds of people trying to outdress each other. No scrutinizing crowd, good.
She couldn't look at him, not yet, she doesn't think she's ready to see the brilliant and revolutionary man to be so lifeless. To her, it just seems wrong, so she keeps her gaze straight, and walks towards the woman in a red gown laced with gold at the sleeves and shoulders, a golden belt cinched at her waist, observing the actions of the Silent Sisters, carefully putting on the former Hand's finest clothes. She stops at a distance as the woman looks at her, concentration broken by the announcement of her arrival. They silently stare at each other. Cosima takes in the short blonde hair with its sharp angles ending at the chin, the cold calculating stare, the proud and regal bearing she has in the way she stands, hands clasped together in front of her abdomen. "Rachel?" she blurts out. Seven hells, what happened to the smiling kid with twin braids hanging on both shoulders?
"It's Lady Rachel to you, princess." A raised brow, a sneer, and she says the word not as a title but as if it was an afront.
I take back my first thought, Rachel is absolutely the one thing I don't miss.
Rachel observes the olive skin tone, dark hair, and dark eyes that mark the Dornish, the visible ink on her shoulder, the intricate hair, "what happened to your hair?"
"What happened to yours" Cosima fires back.
"I was nine."
"So was I, my Lady." Cosima scoffs.
Rachel chooses to ignore the jibe. "And what is that...thing on your face." she gestures at the pair of rounded glass held together by a small metal arch at the top, and perched at her nose, with thin metal frames looping at her ears.
At this, the Dornish flashes a genuine smile. "Oooh, my spectacles. They are basically two lenses that..." she launches on a full description, excited to explain. "I designed them myself" she says proudly. Rachel's face, however, shows disinterest and hasn't moved even by a centimeter.
"You look like a silly owl." An amused tone meant to mock.
"And you look like you've been carved from The Wall with an icicle still stuck up your ass. These help my vision." They glare at each other until one of the Sisters approaches warily, holding out a beautiful sword, the question clear even though no words were spoken: should the sword be included?
The silent question makes them both aware of where they are,feeling shame that the first thing they do is fight like children in front of his corpse.
"No, no sword, he hated fighting, he was a man of peace." The Sister nods and goes back to work. Cosima, sincerely apologetic, decides to be the first to apologize.
"Look, I'm-" she is cut off by Rachel summoning a knight.
"Please take the princess of Dorne to her prepared quarters and make sure she is taken care of," and without waiting for an answer, walks over to where her father is laid out.
"Yes, m'lady"
Bitch. I'm trying to be nice here. She thinks of how Lord Ethan would have reacted with kindness. How are they even related? Cosima is fuming as she follows her guide. They step out into the hallways when she hears a gasp, then hurried footsteps coming towards her.
"Cosima?"
AN: yeah,an AU with an AU in an AU, which is like, triple whammy. I'll try to stay as loyal and true to both series as humanly possible.
Oh, Rachel's dress . hbogameofclothes. files. wordpress 2014/05/7dtobrq. jpg, (remove the spaces,FF is not link-friendly)coz my imagination is that strong and I just wanted to share visuals.
Unedited and unbetaed. apologies for any mistakes.