la femme fatale, 𝐀𝐄𝐆𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐘𝐄𝐍 𝐕𝐈

𝐋𝐀 𝐅𝐄𝐌𝐌𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐄.

  LA FEMME FATALE.

A GIRL'S LIFE IS THIS:

YOU ARE BORN,
YOU BLEED,
YOU BURN.

A CROWN IS ALWAYS PAID FOR IN BLOOD and fate, men insist, is inexorable. So much follows the gift of winter roses, blue as frost — daughters carried off in the dead of the night, lords melted in their armour, and banners raised all over the Seven Kingdoms in the name of rebellion and loyalty both.

It is a bloody affair the way most civil wars are, brother against brother and duty against honour. It lasts for close to a year, and when the Usurper's blood stains the waters of the Trident crimson, the course of the war is changed by a single beat of a butterfly's wings. Amid the turbulent waters of the Trident, a simple twist of fate allows the path of the Rebellion to alter. Later, the singers will write about a dragon who fell in love and burned the world apart for it, sitting himself upon his ancestor's throne, a dynasty at his feet.

The tears over those loved and lost could have made a great river, yet, in time, the eddies smooth, new rivers join, and the tears go down to the great wide unknowable sea. Winter yields to spring and the rose blooms once more — this time, in form of Clarysse Tyrell.

Witty Clarysse, lovely Clarysse, sad Clarysse.

     Once, when she was a naive girl, she had wanted to be a queen, had dreamt of a golden crown atop her brow. Now, as a woman grown, broken and perilously sewn back together again by her own hands, she wants nothing more than to fly far, far away. But songs of a prince yet unwedded sound too sweet in her father's ears as to ignore them. Her brothers would like to argue that she rules their lives, at least, how can a kingdom be harder?

     Court awaits and all Clarysse hears is a key locking her gilded cage. And even golden roses wither if they cannot see the sun.

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by goodhYOUman