AN: I haven't seen Delphine smile this season yet, and the last episode is going to air, and I really really just wanna see her be the smiling bubbly cute little puppy that she is. I letrally pause whenever there's a Cophine scene and tell myself to chill the fuck down because I can't handle the angst.
Cosima sits beneath the shades, near where Sarah has pitched her tent in the Godswood, the sounds of clanging metal faintly registering in her mind, her mind which is still stuck in the fiasco from the brothel, her mind which is still trying to decipher the ocassional sharp kicks in her chest whenever she remembers the shocked and stricken look from the person who she has conflicting feelings for.
No, no, don't even go there, I absolutely have no feelings for her.
"- ould win?" She was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't realize that Alison stopped talking and was now looking at her with a worried expression.
"Mm? Sorry? Yes." she tries, hoping that it would answer whatever question her friend was asking.
"You did not hear a word I said, did you?" Alison's tone was more curious and concerned than offended.
"No" Cosima groans in defeat "I'm sorry, ask me again, and I'll answer, I swear."
"Oh, never mind, it just got answered." the redhead says instead, her eyes watching carefully as Beth gets hit in the face, causing her to lose her helmet and her sword but she doesn't falter and she uses her armor to clip Sarah's arakh to her side, her other fist in the air, Sarah's own hand already holding her wrist. A draw. It finishes their impromptu sparring match, both fighters wearing smug grins of grudging respect.
"Thank the Seven it's finally over." Alison sighs in relief, feeling like she can finally breathe, the tension that clung to her body the whole match finally flowing out of her.
"Ugh, I do hope she's alright. I do not understand why they had to persist in crossing blades, and to what?" Cosima raises her brow at the reaction.
"Which 'her', exactly, are you pertaining to?"
Her friend blushes, and clears her throat. "I meant they. I'm glad they're both alright."
"You meant Beth." she doesn't notice the slight widening of Alison's eyes because hers are trained at the two women gathering their weapons and slowly making their way towards the shade. "I mean, I get it."
"Y-you do?"
"Yeah, it's only natural for you to be partial to her since she's in the Kingsguard while Sarah is a dothraki, who is an outsider, and still viewed by many as a savage. It's normal to favor someone from the 'home team'"
"Yes. Yes, exactly." Alison stutters for a millisecond. "Anyway, are you well Princess Cosima? You seemed...lost a while ago, repetitively in fact for the past few days."
This time, it is Cosima who looks uncomfortable. "Yes, I am, I'm just...wine, work, you know?" she gestures vaguely with her hands. "What about you?" she decides to deflect, "You don't usually come within spitting distance of-" she tilts her head towards the dothraki "not to mention you're not really a fan of blood and gore either, but you actually stayed with me to watch those idiots settle their petty squabble. Not that I'm not grateful of the company, of course, but it's just a little out of character."
She was surprised when Alison woke her this morning by barging in her room, deciding that she will accompany Cosima when she goes to visit and talk to the Dothraki.
"Oh. I just wanted to make sure that you had adequate protection, and that your guard is up to form in saving you should there be a need for it." She has practiced this line for this moment.
"Are my skills in question for you, my Lady? Are you not satisfied?" Beth raises a brow at her, still out of breath.
Alison suddenly snaps up even straighter from where she's sitting, not having noticed that Beth and Sarah were now just a few steps away from them.
"Oh. N-no. Yes. I mean-" she is trying not to stare as Beth takes her gauntlets off, flexing her hands encased in leather gloves.
The Lady of the Riverlands clears her throat after ogling how Beth takes of her gloves by using her teeth to pull them out. "Yes, Lady Selmy, you are adequate."
"Adequate." Beth quriks up a smile that lasts exactly a second, not reaching her eyes. "And I am not a lady." Before anyone says anything more about the matter, she strides away, towards Sarah, who has gone to her tent to fetch water. Alison feels like kicking herself, and is thankful for Cosima whose rambling somehow distracts her.
"There, she's on par with Sarah. She proved herself, Sarah proved herself. Like I said, I'm very content with Beth as my guard and they didn't have to have that match, although I think they both secretly enjoyed it." Things were going well when Beth escorted them towards the Godswood. She even got Sarah to talk, that she was a bloodrider, which led to its comparison with the kingsguard, which led to both women criticizing each other from their weapon to their armor to their fighting style, until it ended with Sarah pointing an arakh at Beth, who didn't need a translator to ask what that means.
It gave Alison the headspace to get her thoughts in order."Come on, let's go join them in the tent, and maybe this time, you'll actually get to have a conversation with her and get the pertinent information that you're supposed to be interrogating about."
When they are inside the small tent, she had to physically stop herself from tearing everything down and rebuilding it herself to its most pristine version. There were no chairs because Sarah only brought what she needed. Cosima was already on the ground, not minding it because she is Dornish. Alison, on the other hand, having been taught that it is rude if she stands, picks the cleanest spot on the rug and then brushes it with her handkerchief before folding her legs beneath her.
Beth, on the other hand, seeing as she has no immediate purpose when the two brunettes with shared taste for kohl begin their communication, decides to do her job.
"I'll do my patrols first." Beth says and steps out of the tent, Alison's eyes following her.
Delphine watches the door of her room close, Felix having dropped by in her chambers to update her on the girl she saved, cementing their first honest and, although slight, mutual liking of each other. So far, it's the only thing that uplifts her for the day, having been swamped in detecting the poison from the fluids and parts she managed to extract from Ethan. She can feel the exhaustion slowly taking its toll. Between unearthing secrets, trying to connect things, doing her official job, and having to relive memories from another world when she goes to sleep, Delphine feels like she's slowly suffocating.
Especially ever since I saw Cosima in...
A sharp tug at her chest reminds her to push it away, push it far away because the present Cosima is Dornish and the Dornish are known for their skills in either fighting or fucking, mostly both. And Delphine knows firsthand that Cosima is very good, even if it was in another life.
She remembers her dream the night before, and she groans at the irony of it.
"I'm French. We enjoy lovers."
Lately, she's been reliving dreams where Shay was present, and she rationalizes that the incident at the brothel must have somehow influenced it.
In both worlds, I had to swallow the pain of seeing you in another person's arms, I had to shove it with professionalism and having to do my job.
She refused to sleep whenever she woke up in the middle of the night, always feeling lost in both worlds, the emotion the only thing she can contend to be real whenever she wakes up. When she finally manages to remember which is which, that she is presently not Delphine Cormier, she painstakingly jots it down in her journal.
She goes out the small balcony in her room, and she is grateful that she Rachel has not changed her sleeping arrangements and she is still being housed in one of the spare bedrooms, meant for the Hand's family in the Tower of the Hand, although she suspects it's more of the other blonde still not trusting her and wanting to keep her close.
Good for her, I wouldn't trust me either if I were her. But I don't mind.
Nope, not at all, in fact, she prefers it, because it gives her access to Ethan's room, to his materials and everything else he might have kept in the Tower.
Rachel doesn't know that she just made looking for answers a lot more easier by making me stay here. She doesn't know about her father and I. Fate really has a funny way of bringing things together.
She perches on the rails, and leans back on the stone wall.
Although I never thought he'd die, and so suddenly.
She isn't as easily fooled as everybody, she knows that Rachel isn't in the Red Keep or in King's Landing. She took the opportunity to get inside Ethan's former chambers.
Somebody murdered him, and I have to know who and why. He's had me tracked down, although I don't know how he got wind of me, much less being beyond a healer and potion master.
Just thinking about it brings back the familiar bubble of dread and foreshadowing at the back of her mind, the same feeling she had when she received the scroll with the Hand's seal on it, more so when she read Ethan Lannister signed at the bottom. Ethan Lannister? As in Ethan Duncan? she remembers thinking.
How did you know of me? And your request from me is already underway, although I don't know what to do next with it.
She always knew something like this would happen, having bits and pieces of the puzzle, but she never knew the magnitude of it or how tangled it actually is.
Professor Duncan was brilliant, having evaded detection for so long, there was never a doubt about that, but you ,Ethan Lannister, are proving to be more difficult now that you're not here.
Her thoughts are momentarily pulled when she sees a flicker of light orange down by the Godswood, which was overlooked by the balcony. She leans forward, faintly catching the sound of metal hitting each other. After a moment, she sees a glint of golden armor.
Beth Childs. Elizabeth Selmy.
Beside her is a wild mane of dark hair and lots of leather.
Sarrah Manning. A dothraki.
Finally, a flash of blue cloth, a person standing up, dusting off her gown.
Alison Hendrix. Alison Tully.
Alison pulls someone up, and Delphine feels her heart jump to her throat.
Cosima Niehaus. Cosima Martell.
She feels the emotion slowly being replaced by something akin to gratefulness, because she is, she is grateful that somehow, in this world, they still have each other.
I'm glad she has her sisters, that they found each other despite them being from opposite ends of the world.
She lets the smile stay on her face as she watches them enter the tent where Sarah has camped.
She has been standing guard outside the tent nearly a candlemark now, the harsh midday noon finally ebbing to a softer tone.
"Can I do anything for you, Lady Tully?" Beth asks, sighing as she does so.
Alison mirrors the sigh. "How did you know it was me?" She's been standing behind Beth for quite a time now, appreciating Beth up close in her armor, even if she was turned away. She's never really been a fan of armors and knights but Beth somehow truned that notion a full 180 degrees. Alison approaches now that her presence has been acknowledged. It's not that she doesn't know what to say, it's that she doesn't know how to say it. And because the image of her standing brave and tall with that helmet tucked beneath her arm is quite pleasing.
"Your scent. I can smell you. Like cool water." Beth was still looking far away, her eyes scanning the area, and Alison sneaks a glimpse at her, smiling and feeling warm at the unexpected words.
"And because I know neither the princess nor Sarah would stand quietly behind me for that long." Alison drops her head. Yes, and that, of course.
"Of course. They're both the charge forward noisily type." Beth only nods, and silence stretches between them, a silence that both are very much aware of.
"Listen, I apologize. I meant no offense in my words, I didn't mean for them to come out that way, Lady Elizabeth."
"No offense taken." Beth was taken momentarily taken aback; no one has ever used her whole name when addressing her, and she hid her surprise in a monotonous voice.
"No. I know you did." Alison's voice was soft. Not arguing, not debating, not her usual formal high tone, and Beth slowly eyes her on the side, noticing the downcast eyes.
"Being in the Kingsguard must be different for a woman, and I can only imagine the kind of comments and biases that you face." Her friend's criticisms when Beth got knighted comes back to her, and she's sure others' are even worse. Beth's grip on the hilt of her sword tightens. "And because I know how dangerous and savagely violent the dothraki can be, so..."
"Were you worried?"
For a moment, Alison felt like she couldn't breathe. Am I that obvious? And then she realizes the Beth might be pertaining to Cosima.
"Yes, well, we both know the princess can be quite decisive regardless of the danger, especially when she carelessly trusts the dothraki." Just like you when you lay your weapon down and approached a very armed and dangerous said dothraki.
"Sarah. Her name is Sarah." Beth says quietly.
Alison feels jealousy bloom inside her chest and she doesn't like it. This is ridiculous and utterly irrational. But she knows why. I envy the way you two seem to just bond naturally, she probably said outright insulting things to you and you two just fight it out. You communicate with blades while I never seem to say anything right with you.
"You two have an interesting friendship." she says instead.
"She's not my friend." the knight snorts quietly. "I mean, in the eyes of the people she is still a suspicious person until proven otherwise, and we are on opposite ends of the pole, the personification of the good guy and the bad guy." She remembers what Cosima said about the dothraki, how they despise weakness, how their strength and savagery is their way of life. "But I know that she did not get to be a bloodrider without being constantly mocked and jeered, even threatened, because she wasn't male. Being constantly reminded that she was weaker, that she should just give up, and knowing the dothraki, being harassed more times than you can count. I honestly don't know how she survived."
"Sounds like someone I know." Alison didn't even realize that she said it out loud until she hears the slight rustle of armor, Beth's stoic face breaking character and briefly glancing at her, and Alison finds that she cannot meet those eyes.
"I'm sorry. I..I might have inquired to Lord Felix about you." she opts for honesty. She hears the woman beside her take a deep breath before letting it go. She turns to look, curious about what that sigh meant, almost the same moment that Beth goes back to watching the distance.
"You're hurt!" Beth almost flinches in surprise, then realizes that Alison must have seen the other side of her face.
"It's just a scratch." she shrugs. And then Beth feels fingers beneath her chin, her head being turned a little roughly to the side.
"Just a scratch? It's already bruising and it's still bleeding!" Beth wanted to point out that it's bleeding again because of all the poking and prodding but she focuses on not flinching instead. Her cheek was an angry shade of red, from the last blow she took from Sarah, and now she can feel the slow trickle of blood down her neck, and Beth wants to laugh at the expression at the face she was staring down to.
"This is exactly why I worry." Alison snaps in a way a mother scolds her child. Almost immediately, her hand flies to her mouth. Holy doodles, I cannot believe I just gave myself away like that.
Beth suddenly doesn't think that the situation is funny anymore. She doesn't know what to make of it, but her expression softens when she sees how alarmed Alison looked, like she didn't think about what she just said, which is probably the case.
The knight raises her hand, golden gauntlet carefully wrapping around the fingers still holding her face in place to be scrutinized by blue eyes.
"You don't have to. I won't die from a small cut." she says, smiling softly.
Beth suddenly realized that in Alison's scrutiny, she has pulled her face down, drawing them closer to each other. Much too close. and now she can't help but notice how blue Alison's eyes were, or how the afternoon sun turned her auburn hair into a mesmerizing shade of liquid fire.
She takes a sharp breath, leaning back a little to create much needed distance. This snaps Alison from her own trance and she is back to her flustered self.
"Come." she starts dragging the taller woman by her arm, "we should clean it before it infects."
Sarah and Cosima stop talking when they enter the tent.
"Can you ask her if she has any clean cloth?" Cosima glances at Beth's cheek, and nods, translating the question for Sarah, who crinkled her eyebrows, voicing her own question.
"Uh, she's asking what for, because she sees no use for it." Cosima translates, and then stops herself from laughing at Alison's reaction, because she swears that her tinier-than-herself friend absolutely flared and fumed, pointing at Beth's injury and ranting how it's Sarah's fault.
Beth looked like she wished there was a hole in the ground that can swallow her.
Alison looked indignant.
Cosima was trying to dispel the situation by biting her lip to stop the smile from showing.
Sarah laughed. A good loud laugh complete with knee smacking and belly clutching.
"You fuss over the smallest scratches and you even need someone to heal it? How do you call yourselves the greatest warriors when you're more sensitive than a baby?"
Cosima has never been so thankful that Alison doesn't understand dotraki, or else there would be a dead body in the next few minutes, and she doesn't even know who it would be. That's how furious Alison looked.
"What in seven hells did she say?" she glares at Cosima, who scrambles for a safe version.
"The, uh, the dothraki value strength above all, they don't really...fuss, about injuries, except if they had their arm chopped or something...which probably translates to a 'no'" she tries not to flinch at how dangerous Alison was glaring at the dothraki who was smirking back in response.
"Lady Alison, it's really no big deal." Beth tries to deescalate things, gently laying her hand on where Alison was gripping her arm.
Thank the gods for armor or else my arm would be crying for mercy right now.
Alison's gaze goes from their shared touch, to her face, to Cosima, and finally to the still smirking Sarah before she gives out one last huff and storms out the tent.
The three women watch the tent flaps for a moment, before Cosima clears her throat.
"I think you should probably..." she gestures with her thumb pointing to where her friend stormed off.
Beth sighs once more, and she quietly wonders how many times this day has made her sigh already. She gives Sarah her own glare, one that says really? you really had to smirk?
Sarah shrugs, and Beth rolls her eyes, going after Alison.
She spots the redhead pacing, or the ladylike version of pacing, under the shade where she and Cosima were sitting hours ago.
She approaches at a steady pace, although she cannot say that she wasn't worried, which increased a thousandfold at Alison's first words when she finally reaches her.
"Give me your knife."
"My Lady?"
"You do have a knife, don't you?"
"I..yes, but.."
Alison sees the hesitation and underlying comical horror in Beth's face. She starts untying her coatdress.
The knight takes a step back out of surprise.
"My Lady, you're..what..?" By the mother, what is going on?! Alison has unlaced enough that her thin inner gown is visible, making Beth's thoughts stand still.
The smaller woman lifts her hand, palm up. "Knife."
Beth could hardly think at the moment and numbly unsheathes it, finally handing it over, watching in awe and shock as Alison tears a piece of her underdress out.
Looking over at Beth's horrified expression, she gives a smile. "Don't worry, because it's mine, it's pristinely clean so I don't have to worry about putting anything nasty on your wound."
A still stupefied Beth can only nod.
Right. Of course, not exactly what I'm thinking of at the moment, but of course.
Alison gives the knife back, a piece of white cloth triumphantly held in her hand.
"Here. Can I..just." she starts dabbing at Beth's wounded cheek, focused and completely unaware that she has once again brought their faces closer.
Elizabeth Selmy, the first woman to ever become Kingsguard, is standing like a stupefied deer under this tiny human's ministrations, taking the opportunity to study Alison unhindered at close range.
Looking at her...feeling her gentle hands on my face...I have never felt this kind of peace, I'm not even sure if I remember what peace felt like.
When she feels Alison is about to finish, she grabs the hand with the cloth, stopping the motion.
"I got it from here. I learned the basics of patching myself up from all my injuries."
Their eyes meet. "Oh, yes. Of course, I'm sorry, I.." Alison catches herself stuttering when she sees the repressed smile on Beth's lips. She clears her throat, taking a step back and assuming her stiff nobility pose. "I'm glad it doesn't look serious."
"Mmmhm." Beth nods. After a moment, "So you were worried."
Alison breaks out of character and gives her a little shove, loving the sound of genuine laughter from the Kingsguard. For her, she has never heard a sweeter sound.
Rachel can see the Red Keep from the carriage's window, and part of her doesn't want to enter. She's surprised by this, that a part of her would rather have stayed at Casterly Rock even for just a few days and be with Kira.
When she reaches the secret passageway, she isn't surprised to find Felix there.
"My Lady Hand, perhaps you should consider informing certain people before you ride off in the midnight." he greets, opening the door for her.
"Perhaps I should." she replies, not bothering to explain.
"You really should. I had to come up with something for the few people who have been requesting your presence." She gives him a brief glance, thankful but not wanting to admit it. She honestly thought everyone would be too busy setting up the tourney, and she gave instructions to Troy to tell anybody who looked for her that she's "preoccupied at the moment and doesn't wish to be disturbed."
Whoever these people are, they are quite persistent.
"May I walk you to your chambers then? There are people waiting for you there."
She doesn't give him the satisfaction of asking who, and he rolls his eyes.
"Certain people you requested are now requesting your presence."
"Of course." she nods. The craftsman and Master of Laws. I didn't expect them til the tourney starts. The walk to the Tower is silent for the most part. When they reach the stairs going up, Felix declines.
"You can do the physical climbing yourself, I will be of more use telling our dear Master of Law that you're here."
They act as if they haven't said or heard anything, just casually resuming going towards their respective destinations, as is their way.
She opens the door to the audience chamber, a tall and bearded man turning at the sound of the door.
"Good. You're here. So are you what they say you are?"
"Cal of Myr, m'lady." He gives a slight bow. Myrish people are renowned for their ability to build and craft, especially with glass. The best and most expensive glass creations come from Myr.
"I don't care who you are." she waves her hand dismissively, walking towards the elevated platform so she can stare him down. "What I care about is if my request for the best craftsman can be met." She is tired from her journey, and it is making snappish.
He seems unphased by her lack of welcome. "Of course. I am from Myr, am I not? And I can already see that you favor Myrish products, based on the rugs and various other laces in this room. You have good taste."
"No, I didn't decorate this place. It was-" my father "someone else."
The intimidating look is gone for a moment. Cal decides not to bring attetention to it. "Then I am here, at your service." he claps his hands. "What do you want me to do?"
Rachel gathers herself. "I want to renovate this place. I want the solar to have glass and not the dark and dreary stones. I want to expand my study and to make the walls out of glass. Also, my chambers." The Myrman's jaw slowly drops with every word coming from her mouth.
"M'lady, a project of this kind and size has never been attempted."
"Money is not an issue." she assures him.
"No, no, I meant that it has probably never been done before. No one has conceptualized such...an idea." He seems lost in his own head, already visualizing the difficulties and technicalities to perform this task, but then he smiles, like a small boy being given his first set of tools. "I like it."
They are interrupted when the door opens, revealing the Master of Laws, clothed in a flowing gown of white with blue highlights, denoting House Arryn. Rachel gives her a nod, and she closes the door.
"Can you do it?"
"You requested for the best, did you not?" he beams. "I'll need the plan prints of this whole tower."
"I'll have someone summon you to get it from me, and we can discuss it then." She decides to deal with his lose and flippant manner some other time, focusing more on her other guest.
He acknowledges his dismissal, giving one last bow before heading towards the door. Once the door has closed, Rahel faces the Master of Laws.
"Lady Arryn." she says coolly.
"Lady Lannister." the long haired brunette answers in the same tone.
Their faces are impassive as they look at each other, a minute of silence descending over them. And then Lady Arryn huffs a small laugh, warmth spreading over her features as she walks over to where Rachel was stiffly standing.
"Rachel." she says with a small laugh, enveloping the smaller blonde in a hug.
Rachel returns the hug with genuine reciprocation. She is the only person Rachel allows to call her by her first name and without any titles.
There might even be a small smile on her lips when she pulls back, but she automatically disregards it.
"Kahlan."
…
AN: I remember being mind fucked months ago when I realized that Cal Morrison is Daario Naharis.
Anyway, HERE SHE IS, THE MASTER OF LAWS. Please tell me you know who she is, or I'm gonna start feeling old.