the way it ends [ tyrion lannister ]

𝐢𝐢. 𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐮𝐦

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

The stack of clothes rose bigger and bigger as Kyra collected them from the rope and folded them, mindlessly but still noting the humidity of the textiles. The sun was high in the sky, it had shined upon them the last few days with lovely winds accompanying it. It made it easier to ignore the giant cloud that would not be blown away no matter what.

For a few days Kyra romanced the idea of leaving the Red Keep, she in fact dreamed of leaving the Crownlands in a hulking horse of massive structure and wavy white mane whirling around her figure. A creature that made the people turn the other way and its hooves rattled the earth; Kyra drew the impressive sight once awake. She had wished and pleaded to the stars that such a creature could take her, fly away with her but the stars had other petitions to hear first. The girl sighed, who would've thought she would end up stranded in King's Landing. When King Robert had solicited her services, never in a thousand years Kyra would have guessed they would be all at the brink of.

Some days she would forget the imminent promise of the eternal slumber. Kyra continued living fairly comfortably but she did take regard for the people outside the gates. Most of her peers resided in Flea Bottom or had family to support there, it was hard not to perceive the woe and horror. It would take a blind man not to see it but somehow a lot of the noblemen were unfazed by the arrangement. Of course they feared the threat, as of now, within the sanguine walls they were protected and well fed. As a matter of fact the ostentation ever growing, so tangible and cruel Kyra began exploiting it with no regret. Instead of throwing it away or dumping everything to the hogs, at the hour of the owl Kyra and Vida would intercept the food and hand it out. How could anyone look her in the eye and declare it was wrong? When every night Kyra witnesses the gleam in a child's face?

Finished with picking the clothes, Kyra seized the basket to bring them inside. She excused herself as guard crossed her path, dodging as best she could though the pile was blocking her view. The days had restored the same routine, it was weaved into them like fate, and somehow things were steadily shifting. Those were the times Kyra broods over the war. It started with the death of a king and carried out into the succession of another, and another, and another... For some reason, four kings wanted to rest in the most hideous seat of the Seven Kingdoms; Kyra could detect the appeal in the imposing, spectacular image of the throne. Thousands of swords, all of foes and defeated into a single authority but it ought to be tortuous to sit in! At least the King in the North settled for what already belonged to him along with compensation for their grievances.

''Given the treatment of the Stark girl? I would do the same.''

''You, Kyra? You would do the same?'' The servant boy mocked.