#// pls don't match fhdjskhfk

[prodixal]

"No grief will excuse your lack of composure in public, Ashara. We've no luxury of hysterics. I understand your hurt, and I am most regretful you have carried it on your own, but -- do leave way to reason. This is neither time, nor place." her name felt sweet on his tongue, though as it left his lips it turned bitter and cold. Etched between his brows was worry, anger, regret and something new and dark and sickly -- fear. For the first time in a long time, Varyn was afraid. Though it would take him some time, to decipher why.

He lets go of her as space between them grows silent, and will clear his throat waving pleasant greetings at passerby's who just so 'happened' to stumble upon their private little corner near which the gardens met the keep. They needed to get out of here. And at this point, Varyn was willing to do and say anything to make that happen.

"No, you... no. You are lying through your teeth."

And while that much had been true, his face softened into a reflection of a man she once knew, and he stepped closer still. Only this time there was no rush to it, no worry, no anger. He wanted her to see and to feel a man she once cared for, a man who would never lie to her, never do anything to hurt her. His hands reach out for hers, and he will place them over his chest as he gazes upon her with such sincerity, he wished nothing more than for his lies to be true.

"I swear it."

The words scorch his soul in instant protest, and his eyes glaze over in regret. She cannot know the truth, not now, not ever. For he may not have been known for his honour, but to become known for having none would be a shame too great for him to bare. It was a selfish thought, Varyn knew as much, thinking of how the truth would affect him before even considering the extents of hurt his repeated betrayal would leave upon her. All the more proof he did not deserve her, and he never would.

Her admission caught him by surprise, and snapped him out of a worrisome thought that he was out of his depth, and had no idea what to do in order to mend their predicament. There had to have been a way for them to fix this, to avert bringing shame to their respective houses, to themselves. But if such a fix did exist, he could not yet see it.

"Right. Olyver." speaking the boys name sent his heart into a faster beat, and he was not ready to witness this shared likeness which had caused, for the first time since their encounter, Ashara's eyes to soften -- and a smile to appear. "M-meet him? Now?" he trips over his words like a fool, uncertainty rushing through his body. And it hit him, only now after all of this, it truly hit him -- he had a son. A son whose birth he had missed, a son he had tried to forget, to keep out of his mind and his heart and his soul. A son who will grow up with his blood, but not his name.

Varyns breathing gets faster, anxiety rushing through him as he grapples with the heaviness of truth that only now unleashed its weight on him like some sort of cruel and twisted punishment. He placed his hand on the wall beside him, closing his eyes to steady his breathing, to ground himself in the moment and avert the uprising of panic. -- Once he could finally breathe again, and his ears no longer buzzed and he opened his eyes to find her yet again. Varyn fixed his posture and cleared his throat to say "I should meet him at once." nervousness heavy with each word, he gestured at the guards to follow in their way.

As they walk, he begins to feel a strange sense of protectiveness. Though he highly doubted he would ever truly care for the child, as much as he would for hiding him away -- he did not by any means, wish him harm either. With voice nothing but a whisper, he we lean. "I do wish you have kept him out of the city, this is no place --" for a bastard. He did not dare say it. "It's not safe for him here. You're no fool, you know as much." he stops again, in his step. "Why did you bring him here?"

she was hardly unaware of her disadvantage in size next to the towering lannister, but to be whisked off into a corner in an attempt to silence her only added fuel to the flames. ashara bristled with abandon, hands yanking again at the fine fabric the master of coin clad himself in — with every intention of tearing the cloth. let him return to his sycophantic lickspittles looking as if a wild beast had mauled him for all she cared. "yes, i have gone mad! mad with grief! mad as any woman would, left without an answer to the most important piece of information she could possibly divulge."

for a long time, there was nothing. she stood frozen to the spot, a wildly searching mind piecing together the puzzle until the image became discernible at last. this was an explanation so gutting, it had not once occurred to her in all the months since their separation. it was too good to be true, her heart protested immediately. "no, you... no. you are lying through your teeth."

not one version of this fateful encounter she had conjured in her mind had accounted for varyn's innocence. she shook her head vehemently, features twisting in agony over the magnitude of his revelation. "i sent only one raven because i feared that if were my letters were intercepted... all three of us would suffer." even in her forsaken state, she had chosen to protect him. ashara had known the risks of sharing a man's bed out of wedlock, and felt not a lick of shame for having shared his. even the risks of giving her heart to another (unworthy recipient, as he was) were known to her. the reason why she had protected his good name was painfully simple: she had done it out of love. and now, she alone suffered the consequences in the wake of his absence.

"do you swear it? swear on everything you hold dear that you did not know." the surge of raw, unadulterated emotion was too much — a tidal wave threatening to swallow her whole. ashara felt her knees weaken as a sob tore through her, followed by another so gut-wrenching even the gods must have lamented at the sound of it. she braced herself against his arms, tear-filled eyes looking up and into his with a familiar tenderness she had vowed he would never relish in again.

"we have a son. a perfect little boy. olyver." oh, the things he had missed. every flutter and kick, the shrill cry with which he had announced himself to the world, his curious gaze when ashara had pressed the bundle tightly to her chest. she could speak of him endlessly, but she settled on a fact none could deny if they knew of the child's parentage. "with every day, he is more his father's likeness." and for once, she managed to smile at the admission. "varyn... you must meet him, please."