It's been four days since the Hand last draw breath, four days of constant meetings with the grand maester and Lord Felix with regards to the preservation of the body while they await this mysterious foreigner, four days and Rachel has yet to get a night of decent sleep nor shed a tear, except that time with Lady Alison...no, that doesn't count. She shakes her head, as if that would nullify the event, and also to force her thoughts back to the most recent issue that has fallen on her hands.
I, Ethan Lannister, First of my name, Lord of Catserly Rock, Lord Paramount of the Wetserlands, Warden of the West, and Hand of the King, do hereby grant succession and inheritance to my only heir, Rachel Lannister, all titular lands I govern upon the hour of my death.
Neat and uniform handwriting, and beneath it, an undisputable signature.
Rachel rerolls the paper as she steps out into the terrace, her face expressionless, fingers idly playing with the broken wax seal of the Hand, eyes gazing at the moon. Two days prior, she decided to visit this very same room: the Tower of the Hand, in her father's study, looking for anything that might help shed light to her questions when she found the sealed scroll among other papers, tucked in the box compartment where he kept important papers and plans. It's only now that she decided to open it.
It shouldn't feel like it changes things, really, after all, it's only a formality, she's virtually been the one running Casterly Rock these past years(even for the three years she's been in the capital) while her father runs the kingdom, only going to him for the formal documents needing his signatures and when absolutely necessary.
So why does it feel like it changes absolutely everything? The truth of the matter is, it does, in a sense, it changes everything, and she knows this, she just prefers not to think of it. The scroll of paper officially makes her the Warden of the West, solidifying the fact that the former Lord and Warden, her father, is well and truly dead.
The longer she gazes at the words and letters, the more she becomes detached. The sound of the door opening and closing causes her to raise a brow.
"I believe, Lord Felix, that you are clever enough to understand the meaning of the guards posted outside that door." she voices with annoyance, back still turned at the door. "I admire that you were able to get past them, you must have been very convincing, although I must say they will not commit the same mistake again." Because they won't be there to commit it.
The responding silence amuses her, then becomes disconcerting when it stretches on. She whirls around, Lord Felix nowhere to be seen, a stranger in a cloak standing in the middle of the room instead. In a span of three seconds, three thoughts sprint through her mind. One, her logic smothers her initial reaction to shout, if this person wants me dead, they would have done so moments ago. Two, how did he get in. Lastly, if he's not here to kill me, why is he here. She picks the simplest one to ask.
"How did-" she is cut short when the stranger raises a hand, holding out a small piece of paper, the other hand yanking the hood, revealing a pale face. A woman!
"Take me to him." It is the accent, not the fact that she's practically been ordered, that grabs Rachel's attention.
...
Three days ago.
Delphine is in a half darkened corner, bandaging a prostitute's leg, the result of one of the clients having one drink too many and having lost his temper, beat her, breaking a leg. Perhaps the only good thing that came out of it is that all expenses are covered, Lys having the most expensive pleasurehouses, their employees prized and when 'damaged', paid thrice the price. She has taken the task of being the informal healer, first setting out in small cases, and then more and more requested for her, her methods by far much preferred by the girls who get unlucky with a costumer, and on occasion when her reputation grew, the nobles she agreed to treat in secrecy. She always chose carefully, usually treating the children and not the nobles themselves, not wanting to be cast in the limelight even if she always shielded her identity. She had one rule: keep quiet, or I will not come to you.
Of course, her potions are gaining notoriety, not only for health purposes, but also for other more pleasurable purposes, various whorehouse owners seeking out the mysterious person giving the aphrodisiac potions to her patients. It wasn't her intention at first, she just gave some to the courtesans who were singlehandedly raising their children, to help them gain extra income in the one thing they had to do, they knew how to do, to keep food in the little one's bellies. It was inevitable that words spread out, especially in Lys.
Because of this, she always wore a dark and nondescript cloak when helping people, hiding her face, content with being a stranger who helps the injured. The only ones who do know are her early patients, whose silence she bought with potions, though some of them kept quiet out of gratitude, owing their life to her. Who knew there were still decent people in this city of sin she muses wryly.
There is a tap on her shoulder and she turns to see one of the street children holding out a small roll of paper. "The Fairy sends his greetings." and then just as quickly as he came, he is gone. She sighs, looking down at the piece of paper, So much for that glowing thought. I guess gold always trumps decency. Her brain suddenly catches up. Wait, The Fairy? It means this came from the Capital. She breaks the wax seal and slowly unfurls it, almost apprehensive of what's written inside, and when she reads the short message, she realizes she is right to be.
I have to go. Now.
She has mostly been keeping her head down when she started tending the leg, but the contents of the paper alarmed her, making her forget, and she straightens her head up, a contemplative look on her face. Unbeknownst to her, the freshly bandaged woman was intently looking at her, now that most of her face is visible beneath the hood. A sharp gasp quickly pulls the blonde's attention, realizing her slip up when she sees her patient open mouthedly gaping at her, recognition in her eyes, no doubt having heard the rumors herself.
She mentally kicks herself, and quickly thinking on rectifying her mistake, she softly grabs the other woman's hands, gazing intently into her eyes.
"You...you are..." the prostitute was stuttering in shock and elation.
"I am a stranger. Just someone passing through, you understand?'. she replies in Low Valyrian. A nod. "Your leg will heal, but you'll have to be immobile for a while. I wouldn't ask for anything, but-" she stops talking when she feels her hands being squeezed softly, the eyes in front of her shimmering, joy and gratitude swimming with the tears.
"No. No need. You have my silence. I have heard. You never ask for anything. You save people like me. And we will protect you like one of our own." she reaches out, carefully tugging the hood to cover the face and blonde curls of her healer.
Delphine smiles in relief. "Here, take this potion three times in a day to help with the pain" she discreetly passes it with her palms between bruised hands. Her patient nods, looking down when she feels something, eyes widening when she finds a smaller vial underneath the one for pain. She looks up, too emotional to speak. A wink, a smile, and the cloaked woman turns, quickly exiting the establishment, blending with the shadows.
Now that she's done with that, The Fairy's message comes back full force, occupying her thoughts.
"Tears flow from the lion's eyes." the scribbled letters were tugging forcefully on all the strings in her mind. If they suspect Ethan has been poisoned with the tears, they must want me to confirm, she concludes, for once grateful that well kept information about her skills somehow ended up in the Capital. She packs hurriedly, taking essential ingredients with her before heading towards the docks, the shadier close-to-a-hundred-percent-mortality-rate parts, that is. Smugglers and pirates always have the fastest ships. So far, she had no trouble going unnoticed, but now she had to make her presence known to the captain. His eyes grow predatory when he realizes it is a woman, judging by the slim frame, standing before him.
"Come now, show me what you're hiding in that coat of yours. Bet you're even prettier with it off."
All the leering vanishes, however, when an iron coin is held up right in front of his face, the words Valar Morghulis and Valar Dohaeris etched on one side, The Stranger on the other. He nods, rigid and serious, as he leads the way towards the best quarter his ship can provide, anxiously checking if someone else observed the exchange.
As if sensing this, a voice behind him answers his silent inquest."No, I am hidden. We are hidden." Somehow, this only makes him more nervous than before.
By the time she is at sea, her thoughts have settled enough for her to sort and compartmentalize them. So, it begins, she thinks with sad acceptance, but also with determination paired with worry,her eyes trained towards the horizon where she knows King's Landing would be. As Lys gets smaller, the apprehension in her belly grows heavier , every mile crossed feeling like sand slowly filling her chest. She has, however, one certain thought amidst all the uncertainty that seems to be more capable of drowning her than the waters beneath her feet.
I finally get to see you.
Three days later, they reach one of the smuggler's hidden docks in King's Landing, and the captain wastes no time in helping her, glad and relieved to get her off his ship because he knows that even though his ship was one of the fastest, the trip should have taken more than a week.
Delphine can feel the exhaustion creeping in both her mind and body, but she starts off at once, heading towards the Red Keep.
...
Yup, Felix "The Fairy".Sorrynotsorry, just couldn't help myself. I didn't want to use the Spider, because I fucking hate spiders down to the ninth circle of hell. And cmon, it's SO him. Fairy, hah.
apologies if jumping back and forth through time is confusing. Just to clear things, Cosima arrives in King's Landing a week and four days after Ethan's death. The first scene in this chapter is four days post death.