Jeyne's Rooms

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Elseyris emerged from her own rooms later in the morning than usual, her eyes red-rimmed and tired from the unpleasantness of the previous night, and headed directly for her mother's rooms. She knew that she would be unable to speak freely, what with Trajan in tow, but she wasn't going to let that keep her from seeing her family. Despite how drained she felt, she kept her voice cheerful;

"Mother, may I come in?"

Elseyris embraced Jeyne tightly, leaning against her as much for her wounded ankle as for comfort.

"May we go lie on your bed for a while, like we used to when I was little? I am missing being cradled," she said, with a sad smile.

"I'm not feeling terribly well, if I am honest. I think hobbling around on a bad ankle is taking up an unexpected amount of energy. I'm also not sleeping. Milk of the poppy only does so much."

Elsey clambered onto the bed and snuggled into her mother's embrace, gratefully swathed in her warmth, allowing herself to feel small, cocooned.

"I'm sorry for the extra... company."

She glanced across the room at Trajan's dark form, lurking just outside the doorway.

"I am not sure we will ever become accustomed to one another. If there is any common ground at all, it is proving hard to find. I try not to judge people, truly, but..."

She trailed off, a lump forming in her throat, her huge brown eyes welling up. Her next words were the tiniest of whispers;

"He's a monster, mother. The things he says to me..."

She began to cry softly, burying her face in Jeyne's hair.

"It's alright, Mother. I will be alright. As long as I can still come see you, that will be enough to keep me going. Speaking of ways out will not be tolerated, we mustn't do it. Well, not for me. Even if we were not betrothed, he would still be following me around. I fear that all I can do is hope that things will not always be so hopeless."

She stroked her mother's hair for comfort;

"I was such a fool to think I could change all our fortunes. I am sorry, Mother, I should have listened to you."

"I don't see how I can change the King's mind on the marriage. He is already contemptuous enough of me. You are right, quiet obedience is our only hope to survive."

Elsey shifted back a little, so she could look into her mother's face;

"I wish I could marry for love, like you did."

I have all of those things, and more, but we have been forced apart.

Elsey felt sorrow and bitterness at that thought, but did not voice it.

"The King will never let me have any of those with anyone, I expect," she said instead, vaguely. "I have been wondering much of late whether all this is even worth enduring."

That thought, though it dwelt in her heart almost constantly now, brought up fresh tears, and her voice became a sob or despair.

"I fear that what he wants is to mutilate me," Elsey whispered through her crying. "The only words he has for me are vile insults and threats."

"It's hard to remain passive when it goes against my nature. You know I have always been quick to fight back when I am insulted or threatened. My life and wholeness of body have never been at stake though, so I must suppress myself. It makes me feel weak and cowardly though. Being nice to someone who treats me with such contempt is something I have trouble imagining."

"I know, Mother. I know you would spare us all if you could. Have Visenya or Rhaegar spoken to you about their betrothals?"

Elseyris' sorrow twisted like a knife in her heart, and she could not control her tears;

"No, it hasn't, I suppose. But, whatever happens to me, I would not trade it for all the gold in Casterly Rock."