Not Today (A Song of Ice and Fire/Exo Crossover)
Title: Not Today
Rating: PG
Word Count: 492
Genre: Drama
Summary: When Tyrosh is ransacked, one mother will do whatever she can to get the late Archon's son to safety.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Tyrosh was ablaze. Screams echoed through the streets, the clash of steel on steel not quite enough to drown them out. The moonless sky above, instead of inky black, had a sickly orange hue; a reflection of the inferno stemming from the Archon’s palace.
‘This is no place for a child,’ thought Lyriia, clutching her son to her tightly as she huddled in the shadows, catching her breath. ‘Not for any child, nor a woman either. There is no sense to this madness.’
Madness it was. Surely it wasn’t just love’s blindness that made her think that her husband had been a good ruler? The Archon was surely dead by now, murdered by the Myrish rabble who had stormed the city a few hours past, intent on overthrowing the leader who had refused to lend them his support in their pointless feud with Lorath. Whether or not he had been a worthy ruler in life, it meant nothing now.
Lyriia choked back a sob, and Kris tugged on her hand worriedly. Her son had always been intelligent for his age - he had been remarkably quiet the entire night, never once making a sound that could draw attention to them, and now he could clearly sense her distress.
She had to be strong for him, the way he was being strong for her. She had to get him out of there alive. Swallowing her emotions, she locked away all thoughts of how they would now live husbandless, fatherless. All thoughts of how her former life was nothing but ashes.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” she murmured softly to Kris. It was the most blatant lie she’d ever told - everything was literally crashing down around their ears and shattering on the pavement. “We’re going to be okay.” That, however, was truth - Lyriia could feel it in her bones, even as she said it.
Picking up her son, and thanking R’hollor that at four years of age, he was still small enough that she could do so easily, Lyriia began the trek away from the concealed passageway into the palace that they had just emerged from. Choosing the roads that were little more than paths winding through the shanty towns, they met fewer people than she had expected, most of whom were no more than frightened citizens themselves.
With a sudden shock of relief, she realised that the Myrish forces had penetrated the city solely on the western side - the sounds of battle were growing fainter, and as she reached the outskirts, she saw that they had made the grievous oversight of neglecting to launch an offensive on the small contingent of ships anchored off the eastern cliffs.
Almost sobbing in the knowledge that her son would be safe, Lyriia stumbled towards the rocky inlet. The billowing sails of Syrena, her cousin’s ship, beckoned to her with a promise that no matter the suffering she had endured, today would not be the day she died.
END
Masterlist
Rating: PG
Word Count: 492
Genre: Drama
Summary: When Tyrosh is ransacked, one mother will do whatever she can to get the late Archon's son to safety.
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Tyrosh was ablaze. Screams echoed through the streets, the clash of steel on steel not quite enough to drown them out. The moonless sky above, instead of inky black, had a sickly orange hue; a reflection of the inferno stemming from the Archon’s palace.
‘This is no place for a child,’ thought Lyriia, clutching her son to her tightly as she huddled in the shadows, catching her breath. ‘Not for any child, nor a woman either. There is no sense to this madness.’
Madness it was. Surely it wasn’t just love’s blindness that made her think that her husband had been a good ruler? The Archon was surely dead by now, murdered by the Myrish rabble who had stormed the city a few hours past, intent on overthrowing the leader who had refused to lend them his support in their pointless feud with Lorath. Whether or not he had been a worthy ruler in life, it meant nothing now.
Lyriia choked back a sob, and Kris tugged on her hand worriedly. Her son had always been intelligent for his age - he had been remarkably quiet the entire night, never once making a sound that could draw attention to them, and now he could clearly sense her distress.
She had to be strong for him, the way he was being strong for her. She had to get him out of there alive. Swallowing her emotions, she locked away all thoughts of how they would now live husbandless, fatherless. All thoughts of how her former life was nothing but ashes.
“Everything’s going to be okay,” she murmured softly to Kris. It was the most blatant lie she’d ever told - everything was literally crashing down around their ears and shattering on the pavement. “We’re going to be okay.” That, however, was truth - Lyriia could feel it in her bones, even as she said it.
Picking up her son, and thanking R’hollor that at four years of age, he was still small enough that she could do so easily, Lyriia began the trek away from the concealed passageway into the palace that they had just emerged from. Choosing the roads that were little more than paths winding through the shanty towns, they met fewer people than she had expected, most of whom were no more than frightened citizens themselves.
With a sudden shock of relief, she realised that the Myrish forces had penetrated the city solely on the western side - the sounds of battle were growing fainter, and as she reached the outskirts, she saw that they had made the grievous oversight of neglecting to launch an offensive on the small contingent of ships anchored off the eastern cliffs.
Almost sobbing in the knowledge that her son would be safe, Lyriia stumbled towards the rocky inlet. The billowing sails of Syrena, her cousin’s ship, beckoned to her with a promise that no matter the suffering she had endured, today would not be the day she died.
END
Masterlist