The next morning, the maid dragged y/n who was still in the haze of sleep, and washed her, changed her and brushed her. She was escorted down to breakfast by different guards to the normal ones, these all had the hallivard symbol engraved onto their right breast. Same as Chaol's uniform.
At breakfast she sat with her uncle and Chaol again, her cousins further down the table whispered amongst themselves, undoubtedly eager to watch her go. There was a tension in the air, one yourname doubted a butcher's knife could slice. Her uncle and the captain seemed to be at unease with each other, the captain particularly weary of everthing her uncle had to say. She didn't blame him, her father had warned her of her uncle's sly nature years ago. They finished breakfast and everyone was moved to the front of the house. About two dozen horses were outside, sparkling clean, with perfectly kept saddles and bridals. They stood to attention, waiting for her. She took a big whiff and all her muscles relaxed. She loved that hay smell. In amongst the horses was a carriage, strapped to four black hockney horses, all the gaurds were saddled on Arabian-cross horses. Chaol stood directly behind her, arms crossed behind his back, scanning over his men. He checked, double checked them.
Y/n twisted to her uncle, curtsying slightly. "Thank you for being such a graceful host uncle."
He smiled kindly, running a hand down her cheek. "Your father was like a brother to me, I would expect the same of him."
She smiled to hide the pain, and turned to Chaol. "Which horse am I riding?" She was getting excited, the feeling of leather between her fingers was one she missed.
Chaol chuckled. "Duke Perrington gave us his personal carriage for you, we don't have any horses spare I'm afraid."
Y/n sighed, the carriage was black and would undoubtedly be plush inside. "His personal carriage?"
Chaol bit his lip. "One of his carriages."
That made more sense, she could never picture anyone of a high standard sending their personal carriage for a Lord's daughter. "We need to be going." Chaol said, turning to the lord and repeating yournames thanks.
She curtsied to her uncle one last time, and smiled at her cousins before making her way to the carriage. Inside was sat a gaurd, a thick sword on his lap and a bow and quiver at his right side.
"Can you keep me company?" She asked Chaol.
He shook his head. "I'll be at the front." And he shut the carriage door, marching off. Y/n smiled kindly at the guard and made herself comfortable. She had nothing to entertain herself. All her belongings had burnt in the fire, and now she had all day to spend with a guard who looked as though his tongue had been chopped out. She bit her lip, and held her hands in her lap. Don't think of home. Don't. She was fighting back the ache in her chest. The carriage started to move and yourname peered out of the window as the horses walked onwards. Here it goes, her life of marriage.~~
Chaol knew the Lady y/n was bored the moment she stepped out of the carriage at lunch. She had braided her hair into about twenty or so plaits. Weirdly he found her entertaining, she had come running over to him, begging to sit next to him at lunch. She went on for the whole hour about the horses, saying about how the saddles could be better adjusted, how one of them needed to have more thorough grooming on its hind legs. Chaol usually found lords and ladies pains when they tried to correct him and his men, but he knew she meant no insult. She was just bored and obessed with horses. He laughed and smiled away with her, even going to the extent of giving her in cloak when she got cold.
Chaol rubbed his chin and drew his reins into his torso. The horse stopped and so did all the other's behind him. The 'small house' lord Orison had given them for the night was of course a colossal mansion. With big glass windows, stone balconies and a garden of ruby roses out the front along with a prominent water feature.
Chaol swung off his horse, his legs and butt ached. He walked over to the carriage and opened the door. He expected to be bombarded by an overly bored yourname but he was just met with the face of his own guard and soft snores, like a harvest mouse was in the carriage. "She passed out a while back capt."
The guard said, hopping out of the carriage and stretching.
"Captain." Chaol correct his man. "Take eight men and secure the place, I'll stay with her."
Yourname was curled up in the far corner, his navy cloak wrapped up in her limbs, running up her torso. It was his duty to wake her up and inform her they had arrived, but as she snored through an opem mouth, he didn't have the heart. Her uncle said she barely slept, at least this showed she was improving. He wanted to know her side of events, why she thought her whole family and dozens of innocent people had burned to death. He could certainly not think of any reasonable answers to justify that sort of homicide. He was also worried about having to tell her who they would be travelling with. Would the prisoner kill y/n or would y/n kill the prisoner? He crossed his fingers it was the latter, for some reason he couldn't picture y/n knowing how to weild a sword, or even a shield.
The guard returned. "Just servants captain."
Chaol gave him an assertive nod, and set about the orders for horses, baggage and plans to leave for the prison. Once he was certain his men were contently occupied he moved over to yourname, slipping his hand under her legs and around her back. She smelt nice, and her hair was silky on his cheek. There was a hushed groan, and a hand clumsily smacked him in the face. He cursed, but made sure not to drop her, wrapping his arms around her tighter, her petite body pressed against his torso. "What's going on?" Y/n mumbled, pulling the cloak around her face, she wiped the sleep from her eyes, and her hands met his chest. She paused watching her gloved hands - why she had them, he had yet to find out. "Chaol?"
He shook himself back into reality, and walked out of the carriage with her. "We arrived, I didn't want to wake you."
She laughed, a gasping, chunky laughter, which brought a smile to his lips. "Put me down Chaol, I can walk."
He did as told, setting her small, shoeless feet on the tiled entrance to the mansion. "I have to go collect something for the king." He said, watching as his men moved their horses to get prepared.
"What is it?" Y/n asked, she was still wiping the dirt from the corners of her eyes, brushing her hair to look semi decent.
Chaol paused, then shoved the thought back. "I don't know yet." He was lying, and he knew she would find out the truth, but for now lying was the best thing he could do. "You'll have to stay here."
Y/n rolled her eyes. "That's all men ever say."
"I'm sorry." Chaol said, stepping back to leave some room between her and him. He was her protector, escorting her to her fiancé. He needed to remember that. "I am going to take eight men with me. What will you do?"
She pushed a stray strand of hair back. "I'll be in the stables."
Inside he laughed, at least he wasn't leaving her to something she hated. "Make sure to wear some shoes." He pointed to her little toes peeking out from under her dress. "I'll be back for dinner, my lady." He bowed, causing her to laugh and left, glancing over his shoulder at her every couple of steps. He felt sick leaving her, panic coursing through him. He never got scared. Chaol left, to collect the one woman y/n hated the most in the world.
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The Power Of Cithrí - A Chaol Westfall Fanfiction
Fanfiction'What am I?' - the question to end it all, and start it all. The river of love grows ever deeper between the two lovers - he captain of he Royal guard and the princess of a city of poisons. Truly enjoying her new life in Rifthold, y/n slowly forget...