✓ | POOR JUDGMENT (A.FORRESTER)

Sunrise. Chapter Twenty Four.

Cynthia sat on a sand dune, running her fingers through the crumbs of gold on which she sat, basking in the hot sun of Essos, and watching the orange sky haze with sapphire with the sun's fading wink of light. She missed Westeros dearly, but nothing could compare to the warmth and beauty of this country, especially when being here allowed Cynthia to be so close to the man she loved. "Fuckin' 'ell!" Shouted an angry voice from over the ridge on which Cynthia had located herself. She turned her head quickly, but by which time had already recognised the aggravated screams of a familiar Forrester son. His heavy, wrapped, boot collided with a wooden chair as he stormed past tents and rows of armour stands, not caring about the soldiers watch him, and his company whom followed cautiously behind. "We did all she asked, and what do we get for it? Stinkin' gold! Like that's going to get us an army!" He continued to row, his blond hair turning more silver with the star light that fell in rays unto the deserts outside the walls of Meereen. "Ethan wanted me to get 'im an army - I can't let 'im done..." Asher mumbled, still barrelling closer to where Cynthia sat with legs crossed, and a saddened expression written onto her face. He fell down next to her, angry and practically punching the sand with his weight, but as soon as his lapiz eyes collided with her own, comforting, gaze, that boiling temper simmered down, like it always did with her.

Cynthia had always been the one to calm Asher down, Rodrik had almost appointed it as her role in the family, as whenever the pair would argue, or whenever Asher would be scolded by his father - which always gained a heated reply - the eldest son would only have to look at the young Glover, before she'd dash off to find the second born son. He could never stay angry at, or around, her. He cherished her too much, and when she was a child, he hated her response to his angry and violent behaviour. That used to be the same with Talia and Ethan too, and Ryon - even on some occasions Mira - but maybe it was because they were his real siblings, or maybe he just grew tired of them and failed to regard them in the same way, he started to get mad even with them around. Talia used to cry herself to sleep sometimes, wrapped up in Cynthia or Mira's arms, because of Asher's aggressiveness - even when it wasn't particularly addressed to her, just seeming her brother so angry made her upset. Cynthia hated seeing Asher liked that, too. But there was something about her, something that she never really understood, that made Asher calm down. In instances like these, all he'd have to do is look at her, and the anger and hatred and violence would float away like dust in a breeze, leaving her with just a glimpse of the compassionate and sensitive Asher she used to know. On other occasions, when Asher's mood had obviously been much worse, Cynthia would have to sit with him for hours, sometimes holding him, and others just convincing him that she was going to stay with him, no matter what, and she'd never abandon, or hate, him. He always got it into his head that his family wished he wasn't there, wasn't real, or that they were one day going to leave him; he thought Cynthia was the same, whether he believed it or not, that was always what made him so made with her being around - but she would spend hours just letting him know she'd never leave him. Ever.

"What is it?" Cynthia hummed, resting her small head on Asher's trembling shoulder, her arm entangled with his and holding him still. His shaking was dying down, thanks to her touch, but something was still riling him up. He didn't say anything, but his jaw was set and tensed, his brow furrowed and stern as he looked at the horizon with more hatred than Cynthia had seen in a long while. She just kept holding him tight, making sure she was as close as she could get to try and calm him down enough to talk to her at least. It took a while before the shaking finally subsided, but there was something evident in Asher's demeanor that Cynthia had grown used to it meaning that he was not in a good mood. "Asher-"

"That bloody queen went back on her word." He growled, something that Cynthia had always found extraordinarily attractive but tried to ignore right now. "She what?" Cynthia questioned, lifting her head at the mention of her sister. "She said she can't give us any of her men. Fucking typical. We should've never trusted her." Asher exclaimed, and by this time Malcolm and Beskha had learned to back away from the angered Forrester son, as he was clearly only looking for Cynthia's company - or she was the only one stupid enough to stay near him while he was like this. Cynthia sighed, trying to think of what they would do from then on. "We'll think of something." "She gave us some gold so that we can buy sellswords in Meereen, bloody use that's gonna be," Asher sighed, kicking the sand beneath his feet.