Disclaimer: I dont own Orphan Black, or GOT for that matter. wish I did though, just to satisfy the murdered feels that I can never get over with
They are descending the stairs towards the dungeons, one of the guards outside the room they came out of holding a small torch, discreet enough not to draw attention but bright enough to illuminate their path. Rachel grits her teeth in displeasure, trying not to give in to the impulse of letting her sharp tongue do its usual job, recalling their conversation in her father's study to reinforce her effort of stilling her tongue.
"Take me to him."
The accent grabs her attention, foreign and definitely not from Westeros. Things come together in her mind, clicking into place at an escalating pace. The small piece of paper, the blonde hair and fair skin denoting Lysene origins, I wasn't expecting her to be this early. The concern on how she got into the Tower of the Hand and inside the room came rushing back, and Rachel, because she's Rachel, decides to demand some answers, so she asks again.
"How did-"
"That doesn't matter. You need to take me to him. Now." For the second time, she is rudely interrupted, something she knows to simply not happen, not to her anyway. Rachel considers various forms of punishment for such audacity.
"The evidence dwindles as time passes."
This immediately pushes her ire in the background, readjusting her current priorities, the sense of urgency that has been emanating from the intruder since the beginning finally catching up to her. She takes a fortifying breath. If you weren't important...
"Very well, follow me."
When she opens the door, she is surprised that the two men in armor standing guard outside the door turn to face her. In truth, she was expecting them to be unconscious or dead.
"One of you gets to live" she orders, and then a gesture to follow to the one who was fast enough to understand the implication of the words and quickly slit the throat of his poor fellow guard, coldly disposing of the body as if it was mere garbage.
They reach their destination, far underground in a room adjacent to the dungeons, deeper than the Black cell, and at the same depth as the fourth level, their breaths misting from the extreme drop in temperature, waiting for the guard to open the rectangular case.
Delphine studies her environment. "I didn't know you had a place like this. Cold and dry."They even managed to airlock the container. Remarkable ."Perfect for keeping the process of decay from starting. I'm impressed."
"It was"the grand maester's idea..."someone clever's idea."she rectifies, not wanting to admit any sense of debt or thanks towards him.Despite the dislike Rachel has for the man, she cannot deny his intelligence. And apparently, so can you she assumes correctly when her companion looks at her with a questioning and almost expectant look.
"Perhaps you can introduce me to...this clever person some time."
"Perhaps you can get back to your task instead. And I'll be impressed if you are what they say you are. " A snap, as sharp as the edges of her seemingly immovable hair. She gestures towards the now opened cask. Tired eyes look down briefly in apology, the momentary excitement in them being replaced by the gravity of their current situation, before equally tired feet approach the remains of the Lord Hand, his daughter having decided to hang back at a distance, not yet ready to see him in his exanimate form but not willing to admit it either, even to herself. Oh the joy of self denial.
"Can you do it?"she mentally cringes at the teeny tiny scrap of hope that managed to lodge itself in her tone.
"Hmmn" she gets a small hum in response, and it takes every bit of her understanding and logical mind(do not disturb her, let her concentrate on her job) to stop her fuming and impatient side('Hmmn?Hmmn!?' That does not answer my damn question even just a little bit.)
"Well, it has been four days..." Delphine murmurs softly, carefully examining the body.
That's not an answer either. This time, a tongue bite was necessary, and Rachel decides to use the silence to simmer down and allow full concentration for the other who was focused on assessing the veins.
The light from the flame casts shadows around them, and she takes her time to truly observe the foreigner who was bent over the body, taking out various equipment from the leather satchel hidden by her cloak. She observes the dark circles underneath the Lysene's face, her expression almost tired and drawn(although it does nothing to mar her beauty), as though she hasn't been sleeping as well. She draws comfort from this. At least that makes two of us.
She shivers and crosses her arms, annoyance rekindling, eyeing the taller blonde's cloak; her dress, immaculate and flawlessly red it may be, was simply not enough to protect her from the cold.
"Yes, I will be able to verify the presence of poison." The cold suddenly lost its sting, the word 'yes' causing relief to wash over, slowly warming her, but it is the sense of vengeance following suit, burning inside with ferocious intensity, that suddenly makes her immune to the cold.
"Although it might take some time, given that it's been four days." a delicate hand holding up a vial of blood, eyes scrutinizing it against the light.
"When can you confirm the result?"
"I can't say yet."
"And how soon can the body be prepared and dressed?"
Delphine does a mental calculation. "Ten days perhaps."
"Seven. Make it seven. People from all over the kingdoms will be arriving in a week, and will wonder about the absence of a body."
Blonde curls shift as a head cocks in rumination. "Then I'll have to go to the body, should I need anything else."
"Just make sure you are unnoticed."
A ghost of a smile. "That won't be a problem." and suddenly, Rachel remembers the sound of a door opening and closing, the two guards still standing at the other side. Yes, that won't be a problem after all, although she makes a mental note to find out how it was possible for this foreigner to get in without being detected.
"No one must know of this." The silent or else you will suffer in the most painful way possible is very audible, echoing from the cold walls.
"Of course."
"And so is your presence, at least not yet. You will be presented along with the dignitaries."
"As you wish."
"You can use my fa..the Tower of the Hand for the time being, I trust you can find your way back. It is unused until a new Hand is assigned, and nobody dares enter out of respect for the former Hand. That should give you enough time until your moment of display"
I've always been for display, the cloaked woman mentally drolls. "Pardon, but there are some things I may require. I left in a hurry and only brought what I thought is necessary."
Rachel eyes the leather gear, the only thing that seemed to have been brought along. "All equipment and components you need, you come to me, it shall be provided. You can also use the alchemy tower or the Grand Maester's own testing room."
A nod of affirmation, and she calls on the guard to reseal the body.
They begin the trek up the stairs, passing one level, two, and still further is not until they reach the end of being underground that both women can finally breath, their thoughts catching up to them as they part ways, the guard accompanying his Lady to her quarters, the tension from the previous hours slowly dissipating.
"Good, now that that is established and a definitive answer to come, I can finally move on to other matters."
"Mon Dieu, thank the stars somebody had the presence of mind to preserve the body or else I wouldn't be able to collect any evidence."
When Rachel reaches her door, she turns to give one last command.
"Call for Ser Paul of the Kingsguard."
"As you wish, My Lady."
She begins unlacing her dress the moment she steps inside, and she is wearing nothing underneath her bedgown when she hears a knock.
In strides Paul in his golden armor and white cape, catching the brief flicker of her eyes towards the guard who was turning to close the door. A silent command, one he acts on immediately, whirling around to clamp his hand on a mouth. There is a soft snick, the room beginning to smell of iron and salt.
"Remove your armor."
She wastes no time in pulling him down, violently crashing their lips together, the scent of blood fueling her.
"What'd this one do?" He manages to grunt out between rough kisses.
"He saw" her "something he wasn't supposed to see." The knight stops momentarily, curiously gazing at her.
"You are here to satisfy me, not to ask questions." Snip snap metaphorical slap, the cold bitch is back, the small sense of victory and satisfaction from tonight's events giving her a small high.
Besides, I need to be exhausted if I'm to sleep. And what better way to exhaust herself than the raw power play she enjoys during sex? A ripping sound, savage grunts, a final twitch and spurt of blood from the body on the floor, and hours later, Rachel Lannister finally sleeps.
From a room high up in the Tower, a tall pale blonde is leaning over the balcony, giving up on sleep when she lurched awake from a dream just moments ago. She sighs, tired but feeling the stirrings of excitement in her chest. Delphine accepts that, once again, there will be no sleep for her tonight, except this time, she doesn't mind.
The dreams will not compare when I finally see you.
In the morning, Lord Commander Gavin notes how drained and exhausted one of his Kingsguard is. "You look like you wrestled a boar, Ser Paul."
More like a lion, the he mentally comments, still feeling the raw scratches underneath his armor.
There was a vague prickling feeling at the back of her neck as she slipped through the door and closed it behind her. It felt like there was an invisible hook tugging from the other side, compelling her to look back. And then it was gone just as quickly as it crashed into her. What was that? She had half a mind to satisfy her curiosity but a voice sounds out, her momentary distraction forgotten, reminding her purpose for going there in the first place.
"You can step out now," the crisp command echoes into the empty walls, her gaze fixed on where she knew the intruder was standing.
Delphine steps into the light, briskly walking towards the body laid out in the finest red and gold cloth, the only remaining occupant in the room instantly carping at her.
"Did anybody see you?"
"No." She doesn't bother looking anywhere else, concentrating as she extracts fluid from the eye, thankful that Rachel's I-can't-look-at-him-yet form of denial hidden obstinately behind a facade of nonchalance is keeping her away from the body and seeing what was happening. Delphine was positive that if the already-fuming blonde saw her poking and prodding his eye(after she asked permission to get pieces of his organs just days ago), she would probably have her skinned millimeter by millimeter.
"Are you sure?" A hissing sound.
"Yes, my Lady. Quite sure." Although... her mind goes back to that brief tugging sensation.
"You're lucky that I noticed you and ordered everyone out."
You didn't notice me. I let you notice me so you can order everyone out.
"Nobody except you and me is aware that you've already been here for a week."
"And it will stay that way." After inconspicuously closing the eyelid and returning the flat stone on top, she straightens to her taller height, and approaches Rachel.
"How many more days? Before you can be sure?"
She considers her answer."Weeks." she says softly, truthfully, noticing a slight sliver of frustration slip through the ice mask. "Four, at the least."
Rahcel says nothing, except for what might have been a resigned sigh, which the potioner takes as her cue to leave. She has already taken a few steps when a "However..." stops her in her tracks.
"Maybe it's time I introduce you to the grand maester, after all, he is aware of your skills and of what you will supposedly be doing, your purpose for coming here. You could use the help.' Delphine prides herself for not visibly reacting to the implication that she's not doing well in what she knows only she could do.
She goes for diplomacy. "Yes, maybe that will speed things up, I could use some assistance, both in hands and equipment, but there are certain concoctions and ingredients that only I know how to handle."
"Fine. You can go", Rachel dismisses as if they were talking about the weather and not stacking more bricks to a burgeoning labyrinth.
The next day, Delphine was in the grand maester's stock room, scanning the shelves of herbs, various body parts from various animals and whatnot. She reaches a finger to tap a glass jar containing what she's sure are preserved dragon scales. Even most of the rare and hard to find ingredients are here. Incredible. She snaps her hand back when she hears someone open the door.
She puts on a smile, the clinking of chains getting closer, and she turns to face a tall balding man decked in black robes. A vague feeling of familiarity creeps into her brain.
"Grand maester?" she says, hoping he didn't notice the slight falter in her smile, trying to identify what it is that's setting her off.
"Kessa."Yes, his eyes going wide for a moment when he looks at her.
"You speak Valyrian." It was more of an observation than a question.
"Not that fluent, I'm afraid." His eyes linger at her face, slowly travelling down her body.
She tries not to let the discomfort show and instead looks at the peach fuzz, the lined face, the stiff way his mouth moves whenever he speaks, and suddenly, the vagueness melts.
I know this man!
AN: I'm a fish, I'm a lover, "Family, duty, and honor", I'm a Tully, I'm a saint, I wear blue everyday, Iliveinwesterosbecausewhythefucknot and this song doesnt make sense anymore. I miss Alison. and I can hear my brain laughing .
thanks for the reviews, and reading, of course.