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Chapter Thirty-Four—— MAYBE I'M NOT BUILD FOR LOVE
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110 AC, King's Landing.
There's a symphony of screams rising all over the room, chaos rippling out like a tidal wave and all throughout it, Morrigan is trying to make sense of what had just happened, of what transpired to make the festivities descend into this madness but the noise is drowning her, numbing her thoughts and she can hear nothing but a high ringing in her ears.
She's trying— she's trying, she's trying, she's trying— to make sense of it all, but her mind will not work. Her lungs take no air in. And all the while, people flee from the hall, people crowd together and she is jostled about and pushed and elbowed until she feels herself stumbling from one side to another.
She needs to make sense of it, she thinks. She needs to make sense of it all and fix it.
But she can't— she can't even think. She can't even breathe. She can only see blurring shapes anymore and she is drowning in the chaos.
Eyes wide, Morrigan glances around herself, unable to register anything but people, people everywhere, until a hand closes around her arm and the world wobbles a little around her, blurring, before she feels herself pulled against a tall body and a familiar scent and then, Alden's voice at her ear, "You alright?"
She can barely hear him over the screams.
Morrigan turns her head to look up at her cousin, his presence slowly grounding her a little and blinks once. Nods. I'm quite well, she tries to say. Swallows. Tries again. The words stick in her throat like something bitter and rotten.
Hands trembling, Morrigan wraps her arms around herself, trying desperately to collect her thoughts. Just moments ago, she'd been dancing with Daemon and he'd— he'd— and then, suddenly, someone had started screaming, high-pitched and horrified and everything had gone hazy in her mind. Pandemonium all around them.
