Winter's Fire → Game of Thrones

XL. Closer

A concept: Prince Daemon Baratheon got banned from the Great Sept of Baelor

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I was returning from Sansa's chambers after breakfast. We were not that close yet, but we were definitely getting closer. I wish our relationship was good before I was exiled. Then there would be less tension when we were not talking. And perhaps we would actually know what to talk about.

Very few people shared the same hallway as me in the Maidenvault. It was mainly the Tyrell men, as well as a few of the lords who have arrived for Joffrey and Margaery's wedding. Most would be out at breakfast or spending time with the other lords right now, though. That is why I was so shocked to hear yelling up ahead.

Whilst I could not make out what was being said, I knew the argument was heated only on one side. Whoever was getting yelled at was just taking the verbal abuse. All I could really hear other than yells were very slight pleas that made it sound like that person was crying.

I know listening in on other people's conversations is wrong, but I wanted to help whoever was being yelled at. It all seemed so one-sided and the closer I got the clearer the broken cries of the other person were. I just could not let this go. I wanted to at least consider trying to help the person crying.

The door to the room where the yelling was coming from was cracked open slightly. I peaked in and felt my heart drop slightly when I saw who was in the room. Lord Mace Tyrell was yelling at Lucien whilst the poor boy just cried and pleaded with his father.

What was going on?

Before I could take a few steps back and just wait for Lucien, I heard someone get hit. Then I saw Lucien on the ground with his hand on his cheek. Even more tears poured down the boys face and I just could not stand the sight before me. How dare Lord Tyrell abuse his power over his son like this?!

"I know you are there!" Lord Tyrell hissed. "Show yourself."

There was such venom in Lord Tyrell's voice that I had no choice but to step forward. I had no weapons on me because I did not need them for breakfast. Even if I did, what would I do with them? I cannot injure or kill Lord Tyrell and I know it.

Mace Tyrell usually seemed like a jolly aging man who had a bad habit of eating too much. His face was red and his beard was clearly kept trimmed. It is said he looked powerful before he became so fat. The man was said to be ambitious too, but also a fool. Even Olenna has said in passing that he is an oaf.

I looked over at Lucien who was still on the floor. His hand was still against his cheek, but he looked away so that I could no longer see him crying. I could still hear his choked sobs though and it made me angry to see him in pain because of his father.

"Oh, it is just you," Mace sneered.

"How can you treat your son like that?" I asked, keeping my voice quiet despite the anger in it. "H-he does not deserve this kind of treatment."

"And what will you do about it, Stark?" Mace asked.

The way he said my name made it feel like an insult. It was a reminder of House Stark's fall from grace and of our crimes against the crown. It was a reminder of all we had lost and how it had happened. It made me want to fight for my house, but it also reminded me of how powerless I really was.

All I could do was stare at the ground. I felt weak. I felt worthless. I felt angry.

"That is what I though," Mace continued. "You will not tell anyone about this, will you?" I just shook my head. "Good. Now get out of my sight. Both of you."