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greenknightofmalachite · 6 months ago

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Regret on Driftmark

(Study, The Meeting on the Turret Stairs

Frederic William Burton, 1864)

Ser Criston raised his candle higher and peered through the darkness for the queen. He could just make out her silhouette standing on the balcony looking out into the night. He cleared his throat.

“Your grace?”

“Please leave me, ser,” Her words were stifled with tears. “I do not want you to see me like this.” Criston could hear the anguish that she always tried to keep hidden but he didn’t turn away this time. He let her push him away for far too long. Instead he blew out his candle, plunging them both into complete darkness.

“I can hardly see a thing, your grace.” He walked slowly through her chambers, careful not to trip in the unfamiliar room. If she commanded him to leave again, he would do as she bid but he was determined to finally find a moment to speak with her. He stood at her shoulder on the balcony for a moment, waiting for the command that would send him away but it didn’t come. They stood in silence for a long moment, the cold sea wind whistling over the pale stone walls of High Tide.

Even over the crash of the waves on the rocks below he could clearly hear the familiar tk tk tk sound of the queen worrying at her nail beds. Given what had happened he could only imagine the damage she was inflicting on herself alone in the dark, her worst fears realized. The blackness surrounding them gave him the courage to reach out for her in the dark and finally take her cold bleeding hand in his. For so many years he had wished he could comfort her in such a small, simple way and spare her bloody fingers. He could feel a thousand scars for all the times he never stopped her. To his relief and surprise she didn’t pull her hand away.

“I am so sorry this happened. I swear, your grace, they will shed more tears for Prince Aemond’s eye than we ever will. They will regret this.” She did not say anything for a long moment but still did not pull her hand from his. Hers was frozen cold but his was warm.

“I owe you an apology, ser. I should never have asked you to harm Lucerys. It was in anger, and a dishonorable order to give.”

“I knew you did not mean it, your grace.”

“I did mean it. That is why I regret it so deeply. When you swore yourself to me I promised you I would ask nothing of you that would sully your cloak, and I broke my promise. I let my anger rule me. I am sorry.”

“I understand, it has been a terrible journey.”

“You are too forgiving, ser. What I just asked of you…what I did…I cut her, deeply…I think I’ve lost my mind…”

“No, your grace.” He countered. “They have gone too far this time.”

“Rhaenyra wanted Aemond tortured and Viserys did nothing, not a word…his own son…‘sharply questioned’ she said.” Her voice was a sad scared whisper in the dark.

“I would never have let that happen.” He said at once, his own anger starting to slip through. “We would have stopped them.”

“It was only us in that whole room, how would we have stopped them? My son…” she choked back her tears. “What chance do my children have…”

“Thanks to Prince Aemond’s bravery, a fearsome chance.” He said bracingly. “With Vhagar at their front, your children can face what is coming.” He squeezed her hand. “And together we will continue to protect their backs, like we always have.”

“What can the two of us do against such a storm? Rhaenyra, Daemon, House Velaryon…it feels as if all of Valyria is coming for my family and our only shield is a weak old man who does not see it nor care.”

‘Us. The two of us.’ she had said. Criston could not help but feel his heart glow at her words even under such terrible circumstances. In the dark he couldn’t tell if she was aware the impact her words had on him. They were talking of their doom yet he had never felt his heart so light. Us. We.

“Your children are of Valyria as well.” He reminded her.

“Aegon is unreliable.” Her tone was sad and resigned. “Helaena has her gifts but she is delicate. Daeron is too young, and now that they’ve blinded Aemond…”

“Prince Aegon has more strength in him than we have seen, your grace, I am sure of it. We will help him to be better.” I will make him better.

“I pray that you are right, ser. We are running out of time.” She whispered. “He has never held his brother up, only pushed him down, and Aemond needs a supportive hand now more than ever.”

“Prince Aemond has more support than just that of his brother.” he insisted. He should have been there, he had to make this right. “I will be his left, my queen. I will watch his side until I have trained him to protect it himself. We will start from the beginning again, and I will help him become your fiercest champion, ready to protect your family. He will be Prince Aegon’s right hand. Aemond will not need Aegon’s support, Aegon will need his. I swear it, your grace. I will help Aemond and he will be stronger for his suffering, stronger for the obstacle that his nephews have forced him to overcome. I swear it.”

Though the queen did not say a word she did not take her hand from his. His promise hung in the air between, his vow to her family refortified. Several waves crashed against the unfamiliar rocks down below before she spoke into the darkness.

“Thank you, Ser Criston.” He took her brief response as the order of dismissal he knew was coming eventually but he did not mind, he had said what he meant to say. You aren’t alone. I am here.

“At your service, my queen.” He bowed, but she could not see it. He hesitated then brushed his lips to her cold fingers and kissed her hand in one last show of support before taking his leave. He turned for the door, trying to remember where it was in the dark, but the queen did not let go of his hand and he paused. She gently pulled him back and turned to face him, though she could barely see him.

“Thank you, ser…Your friendship has meant everything to us.” She stumbled over her own words. “T-To me. I…the years have passed, each faster than the last and yet there you stand, still here by my side.” Her voice shook slightly in the darkness, she sounded as scared as he had ever heard her. “You have been there, for my children…for me, and I don’t know how to thank you for your friendship.”

“You don’t have to thank me.” He answered softly. “I promised you that I would.” The cold wind shifted the clouds and weak moonlight passed over Driftmark. He could finally make out her face, streaked with shining silver tears that shone in the night. He could not help but reach out and brush them from her cheeks with gentle fingers. She closed her eyes at his touch and more tears fell. She looked so miserably sad. Something deep inside pulled him forward. He took a step closer, and when she placed her hand on his chest he could swear she could feel his heart thundering through his armor. Criston covered her hand in his own to steady himself.

After what Rhaenyra had done to him he had sworn to never break his vow again. But Alicent was his vow, his whole heart, and now she stood inches from him, her hand in his. The princess had taken what she wanted from him, but Alicent was waiting for him to make his own choice. He could not help but love her all the more for it.

Perhaps it was the darkness, the late hour, or the unfamiliar castle with King’s Landing so far away, but the walls Criston had built around himself had never felt weaker. He was bitterly grateful for the cold armor that acted as a barrier between them, without it his vows would feel a thousand miles away. He stood still, waiting for her to push him away or take a step back but she did not. He didn’t realize he was leaning forward but suddenly their noses were almost touching. He could feel her breath on his chin. When he looked in her tearful eyes he saw no trepidation or uncertainty, only pain, hope, gratitude and what might have been love. She always looked away from him, but this time she did not.

The seconds melted by as she waited for him. Soon the moment would pass, he could feel it slipping through his fingers like water. Soon it would be over and gone, what might be his one and only chance…Gods forgive me…He leaned in and finally kissed her.

Her lips were softer than a flower petal and tasted so sweet, sweeter than rain in a drought. But bittersweet, he could also taste her tears…or was it the sea? Her cold fingers tangled in his hair as she kissed him back, his heavy heart felt weightless for the briefest reprieve as if picked up by the fierce wind that blew in off the water. He could not stop her tears from falling anymore than stop the waves below but he could at least try to give her some comfort on this horrible night, he could offer nothing else. He pulled her closer with a gentle hand at her waist, savoring the moment he knew would pass too quickly. To finally hold her close and show her how he felt, it was all he wanted and the only thing he could do to help her.

When they finally broke apart she took a shaky breath but did not step back from him, she kept her eyes closed as if to stay in this fleeting moment as long as she could. His first instinct was to apologize but he pushed it down, he was sorry for many things in his wretched life but not for this. When she finally looked up at him again she looked grateful and perhaps relieved but a different type of heavy sadness was in her eyes. She ran her trembling fingers slowly through his hair again, as if she had wanted to for years and years. Her soft touch temporarily pushed away all of the troubles that had found them here on Driftmark.

“I wish things were different.” She finally whispered.

“Perhaps one day it will be.” A small glimmer of hope warmed his heart but he knew it was a false hope. Even if they both managed to survive the king’s first family he would never be free from his vow. He could already tell that what he had just done would hurt his heart deeply in the years to come. This small quiet moment would surely torture him come the morning but he could not make himself turn to leave her. Once he let her go he might not ever hold her again. She did not step away either but instead laid her head against his armored chest. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close like no one else ever had, perhaps he never would again.

They watched the weak overcast sunrise together in silence, lingering in the quiet moment they shared before they would have to face the new day. Aemond’s injury, the anger of the king, and the princess’s entitlement were all waiting for them. He wished the dark would last forever but it was already nearly gone.

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