The Army Camp

Maekar strode through the camp, making rounds and inspecting everything, until he had seen everything. He then sought out a captain of one of the unwounded companies. "You, soldier," he said, striding up to him. He was till bandaged, at the left hand and across his right eye, but he wore his armor save for the plates that would go on his left arm and the helm, and Vigiliance hung in its sheath on his left hip.

"You are to gather a detail of men to prepare the pyres for the dead dragons," he said authoritatively. He handed the man a small folded note with his seal stamped onto it. "Comandeer some want timber you need, my seal will get it for you. There are two," he added, somewhat stating the obvious; one would never be too redundant when giving orders, just in case.

"Azuria, and Nenyan, he said, pointing to them respectively. "Build a scaffolding of wood over each, and then surround each corpse with lighter wood and brush.; Nenyan is yet small enough to be raised, but Azuria will have to have to lie on the ground. They will be given to the fire, as fits a dragon in death. Make sure I am notified when everything has been prepared, am I clear?" he asked finally.

Maekar sees this, and draws Vigilance as he approaches the boy, pointing the sword at him, "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"Are you a squire? For whom?" Maekar asked suspiciously, lowering the sword slightly but not entirely. "Who ordered you to desecrate a dragon's corpse?"

"These dragons are the property of his grace the King, even in death; if you wish to scavenge from the dead, take from our enemies," he snapped, sheathing his sword. "Piss off, or I'll beat you black and blue before sending you back to Ser Duncan."

[Apprentice Intimidation]

Maekar watched the boy depart with a frown. He ordered a detail of guards to protect each of the dragons' corpses from looters while their pyres were being constructed, and then sent a man off to inform Prince Aemon that a lad who squired for Ser Duncan Florent had been seen stealing scales off of Azuria's corpse, if he cared to inquire further.

////////

The day after the dragons' cremation, Elseyris ventured out from her tent, and headed towards the central area of the camp, hoping to find someone to appraise her of what had transpired over the 3 days she had been recuperating. The only visitors she had received were a field maester and Daenya, neither of whom had told her much. She knew that there were likely to be pyres built for hers and Aemon's dragons now, and wanted to find out about their progress. She soon spotted Maekar, and approached with a respectful nod;

"Ser, can you spare a moment?"

"I was wondering if you could tell me what preparations have been made for Nenyan & Azuria. I am rather behind on camp matters, I was unconscious for longer than I had expected," she said, with some embarrassment, feeling quite pathetic and having not pushed herself out sooner.

"I expected that pyres would likely be built. Are they ready? I would like to see my dragon off, so to speak. Azuria too, really, since she was his mother."

Elsey's eyes flared angrily, though she stopped herself from raising her voice, instead sounding cold and annoyed;

"Why did no-one send word to me? Surely that would have been common courtesy!"

She folded her arms;

"It would not have taken long to send someone for me. I would have gone to the pyres immediately, regardless of my state. If the damned maester hadn't kept taking each time I woke up as a reason to further sedate me, I wouldn't have even needed fetching, I'd have been helping to build the bloody pyres. I doubt Prince Aemon was left uninformed," she growled, more angry with the situation than anyone in particular.

She let out an exasperated, sigh, looking at the ground, then back up to Maekar, her face a little softer, and sad;

"Look, I'm sorry, I understand why you did that, but... well... would you not be angry to be excluded from the funeral of someone so dear to you?"

"I said I understood, Maekar. I am not arguing with you. What is done is done, and, as you say, better that than having them scavenged. It's just..."

Her face was flushed with shame at allowing herself to become emotional, especially in front of someone who had been through more and worse. Her look was one of earnest, and poorly suppressed distress;

"... You know what this is like, this feeling. How long does it go on?"

She expected he would know she was speaking of loss, of grief.

Elseyris pondered Maekar's words gravely for several moments, in silence.

"Well, I do not think I have gone mad, so I suppose that is worth something," she said, with a dry smile that did not reach her sad eyes.

She gazed passively into the distance for a few moments, then looked back at him;

"I am sorry about your wounds. I saw what happened. Your bravery is inspiring."

Her voice was flat, but sincere.

"It is alright, really. I should not have been brusque with you, it is I who ought to be sorry, and I am. All of this is, well, new to me. I have not been as good a soldier as I should have, I am ashamed to admit."

She glanced down awkwardly, shuffling her feet a little.

"No matter. Is there anything I can do to make myself useful, now that I am here?"