but waking, no such matter Who: Aeria, Lazralene When: the day of the tourney, as William and Jaehaerys leave the dungeons Where: Summerhall, the black cells Rating: R Status: CLOSED. You really don't want in on this.
Aeria watched her son's figure disappearing the other direction, swallowed by the gloom. She had heard his voice, heard the pain, and her heart ached. It was hard to draw breath as she thought of what she too had seen in that room of horrors. The guard was easily gotten by- Lazralene blew some powder into his face as she stepped from the shadows, and the man slumped over in a sleep.
Maester Allyns was in the room as they entered but he fled quickly after one glance at Lazralene. Aeria watched him go, and turned to her companion. Lazralene of Asshai had been Elia's tutor for the last five years, had watched Elia blossom and grow more closely than either of her siblings had been able, and now she would see the end of it. "Examine her, Lazralene. Tell me everything, no matter how trivial..."
Lazralene inclined her head, the firelight shining off her red lacquer mask. "First I would give her last rights, your grace. If you will permit."
"Can that not wait?" Aeria asked impatiently, keeping her back to the figure laid across the table behind her. She would not look again.
"I would not see the princess caught between light and dark longer than she already has been."
Aeria sighed. "Very well. Be brief."
The prayers of R'hllor were brief, and Aeria joined in on the parts she knew, feeling somehow it was appropriate. Her sister deserved peace- there had been no sword of heroes to save her in the end, but perhaps R'hllor at least could guide her to the worlds beyond. The ceremony was simple, the version often given to the dead on a battlefield, which suited as well. Aeria stood aside at the last, and watched Lazralene remove her mask to bend over the table and deliver the breath of life.
And the world shuddered. The candle flames darkened, swallowed by shadows darker than the blackest night, shuddering and then flaring again in the next heartbeat. Freezing then burning, the heart of fire seeming to swell around them. Lazralene cried out, or perhaps it was Aeria herself, she could not say. Then, sudden as it had happened, it was over.
Aeria rushed to help Lazralene to her feet, for the priestess had collapsed on the floor. "What--?"
"R'hllor, grant us your saving light," the priestess whispered in the language of Asshai.
"Lazralene, there isn't much--" Movement stopped Aeria's words. Her heart pounded in terror as she saw it again. With the name of R'hllor on her lips, she turned to the table where her sister lay. Only Lazralene's hand over her mouth stifled the queen's screaming.
Elia was sitting up, her hand rubbing her throat absently as she looked around the room, staring in silence as one who is struggling to awake from a dream.