Bound by Blood and Fire | Benjicot Blackwood [HOTD]

pt i

Serra was not the type who particularly enjoyed wandering beyond the walls of Riverrun. She only ever left the safe confines of its boundaries under circumstances in which she had little to no other choice -- if only by force of her father's hands by whatever command; often it was an event of necessity in which her father insisted her presence was vital, "To put on a strong, united front -- that the House of Tully and its members remain united as ever."

It was always a conversation that required a lot of begging on her father's side, pleading with his daughter to see reason, and often ended in a bribe that would prompt her to reluctantly agree. She wasn't one for negotiating and often did not want more than to be left alone with her books, to stay back at home in the comfort of her library, but she was stubborn and would only cave out of guilt and obligation for her dear father. She truly did love the man -- as did her love her; his little dove.

She hadn't been nearly as close to him as a child, but following her mother's passing, she and her father had worked to build something of a relationship. Before that moment, she had always been closer to her mother -- a kind, soft-spoken woman who embodied what it was to be a proper household lady; one who upheld duty and honor. She was loving and gentle with her children, and if her daughter had been anything like her, she would have been the perfect woman to model her likeness after. Instead, she had been considered odd -- a little "out of sorts" according to other children of House Tully, who had relentlessly teased her as a child. She could recall the years of sneers and jabs, tugging on her dress and pushing her into mud puddles, leaving her sobbing in the fields behind her home. And despite her mother wishing she had just enjoyed playing "lady of the house" and making pretend with the other girls, or wishing that she enjoyed dresses and fantasizing about the day she was married to a doting husband like the other girls her age, the sight of her daughter running inside with tear streamed cheeks; covered in dirt and desperately reaching for her mother with her chubby hands as a young child, her mother's facade would drop; all those selfish wishes out the window as she consoled the girl who clung to her skirt. If there was anything she remembered about her mother, it was how fiercely she loved her children and how willing she was to set fire to the realm to protect them despite her gentle nature.

And often on days like this, she yearned to have just one more moment like that with her mother.

The ride to Raventree Hall was long and silent as the two siblings sat across from each other, having not said a word to one another since their journey had begun two days prior. Kermit had tried to spark conversation by making small talk, making the odd comment about the weather, or the journey -- he had even tried to scold her on the first day, face pinched into a scowl of annoyance when his hours of rambling and several attempts at even joking with her were left unanswered.

"You can't ignore me forever -- please, you have to see reason, sister. I did not have any other choice." He pleaded, reaching across to attempt to take her hand, her gaze only briefly turning to look at him, eyes scanning his face as she had noted the way his shoulders dropped; slumping forward and looking defeated as though he had just lost some bet. "If I had had any other choice, I assure you I would have taken it."

Since then, she hadn't even bothered to look at him. More often than not, she felt his gaze on her, watching her carefully as though he was waiting for her to change her mind and say something. More often than not, he would be met with silence and not even as much as a look in return, only to then realize she was stubbornly still behind decision to ignore him and huffing in frustration before looking out the other window of the carriage that rocked and swayed over the bumpy trail. She knew they were nearing Raventree and despite that she was not happy with the circumstances of her presence there, she would be grateful to get out of the small space she'd shared with her brother for too long -- although the memory was vague and distant, shrouded in fog, she could recall this journey from a time in her childhood; clinging to her mother's hand while Kermit and Oscar excitedly babbled to their father about their time spent there, spewing stories of their training and the mischief they had gotten into with the Heir himself. She just needed space from him.