Numb.

All you felt was numb.

The only other feeling you had experienced was the physical pain of tear stains on your face. They cut deeper than any other wound you had gotten in your life. The salt had worn your skin down to its last layer with a red blotchy mess being left behind. You cried until you could not anymore. Settled deep in your room, you had secluded yourself in that space for an indeterminable amount of time. It may have been days or a week. Amara, Liriel, Helaena, Aegon, and Daeron would rotate in delivering your meals. Each time they tried to speak to you and each time you would give them nothing but silence. Each time they delivered a meal, they would come back to a nearly full plate.

"Daeron, what has happened?"

Your throat too suffered from pain. Screaming, you could remember screaming and shouting in anguish. A pile of broken glass was laid on the floor by wine stains on the wall. You had thrown a glass carafe at the wall in anger when you were dragged back to your room, kicking at the guards. At that moment, there had been nothing but anger. At yourself or something else – that was entirely unknown.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Only one thing played through your head; that dreaded morning outside the sickhall. The memory played on repeat in your head, mocking and torturing.

Daeron tried to hold you back and away, but you could still see over his shoulder. Two healers held a stretcher between them.

You could still feel your heart dropping at that moment – ever present and near.

There was a white sheet placed on the stretcher and you could see a figure under it.

"What... who is that?" The question did not need to be asked. You knew the answer, but could not even think it so much as vocalize it. Daeron pulled you towards his chest and held the back of your head with one hand and your back with his other in an attempt to cover your eyes.

It was surprising, how quickly an individual could mean to another in such a short period. Even more so, how quickly one could leave.

An arm had slipped out from under the sheet. It was limp and the small little hand bounced gently with the movement of the stretcher. You recognized that hand from the number of times you clasped it in yours as you would take their vitals.

Denial had hit you first then. You could not remember the number of times you muttered the word 'no' as your grip on Daeron tightened and your legs threatened to give out. You had clung to him with desperation.

You could not look away from that tiny stretcher. You could not look away from the last part of Lyra you would ever get to see.

A seizure in the night was the explanation Daeron had given you just hours after her body was carried out. He told you after you had stopped screaming and sobbing. You could remember his eyes as they scanned your room that was upturned in your anger. Lyra's infection was not near late stage, but that did not matter. None of it mattered.

"But we just... we just found a way to stall it..."

You remembered how horse your voice had been, yet you refused all offers of water. If anything had entered your stomach then, it would have come right back up. Since then, you had sat on the cool stone of your floor surrounded by pillows and blankets. Your view was through the window and out at the garden. Hours would be spent watching the fireflies dance as you clutched the small doll in your hands. You would stroke the hair as if in a trance.

The sound of a creaking door did not register in your mind. The figure of Daeron appeared in your peripheral as he crouched down in your line of sight. He held a silver plate in his hand with various meats, cheeses, and breads.

He set it down in front of you and spoke, "You have to eat."

You slowly looked down at the food before raising your head to meet his eyes. There was no verbal response given and you shook your head. Daeron sighed and sat down. He crossed his legs and you found your view slightly obstructed which forced you to focus on the conversation.

"Why don't we eat together? I'm starving," His tone was encouraging but gentle. Daeron reached down and grabbed a piece of cured meat to eat. As you watched him eat, you became intensely aware of the pain in your stomach. It no longer rumbled, but instead sent sharp pains through your abdomen.

With shaking hands, you reached out for a piece of bread. You brought it up to your mouth and took a small hesitant piece. There was no taste, but you knew it was not the baking that was the issue; rather your broken body was unable to process much. You swallowed it down and made a move to eat another chunk.

It took longer than it should have, but over the next hour, you slowly ate the food on the plate with Daeron's silent encouragement. Despite your stomach calling for more food, you stopped because of the nauseous feeling overcoming your body. Daeron handed you a cup of water, but you only clutched it in your hands.

A knock sounded on the door and Daeron got up from his spot on the ground. He left your vision and walked behind you to open the door. You could hear his steps on the stone and the creaking of wood.

"Oh," Daeron's voice was surprised, "I don't think now is time for whatever you had planned."

Whoever it was decided to ignore him and walked into the room. They came up from behind you and threw down a bag beside your form. You looked at the leather travel back and then up to the figure that dropped it.

Aemond stood tall, his one eye trained on you. There was a determination that swirled in those orbs along with something indecipherable. You were confused as to why he had come to visit so long into your grief or even visit at all.

"You have an hour to pack," Aemond informed.

You focused your gaze back on the bag. There was no course of action for what he told you. Confusion turned to fear. Was he getting rid of you now? He likely thought you were no longer valuable due to your incapacity. A few days prior in your comatose state, Daeron informed you that the potions had managed to stop the taint from progressing.

You assumed that the deal to keep you here was somewhat fulfilled. You had a year to come up with a solution. While not entirely a fix, the potion could be used on people just after infection, thus stopping it before it progresses. The current patients would be stuck to suffer, but at the very least any future ones could be helped. The swaths of damaged land would also never recover, but it can now be halted from taking over the earth. You believed that Aemond saw no point in you staying, especially if you were not contributing and lay derelict in your room.

However, Aemond's explanation did not match that sentiment, "You wished to visit Lake Rosemange because of your father? Well, we are going." You had no idea how he found out about Lake Rosemagne, but it was likely another instance of Daeron informing him. He had the habit of spilling knowledge to others because he thought it could lead to something good. It equally frustrated you and warmed your heart that he cared.

Daeron approached you two and stood by his brother, "Aemond now is not the time to remind her of that–"

"Now is the appropriate time. Rotting away in this room is proving of no use." Aemond dismissed his brother. His voice was clouded with self-superiority as if his plan was the better option to letting you rot away here.

"She needs to rest and regain her energy." Daeron tried to reason. The longer you thought about it, the more it started to make sense. Being in this room – this castle – was doing you no good. You had to get out, if only for a little while. The potions were given to patients and now you had time to take a break, revitalize your brain, and get back to research with a fresh breath.

The two brothers began to bicker. It would have made you laugh if you were in brighter spirits.

"No" Your voice was raw after its long period of no use and it took a few attempts to get the word out loud enough for the two elves to notice you, "I–I think it could be good."

Daeron crouched down and rested his hand on your knee, "Don't feel like you are being forced into anything,"

You reached out and clasped his hand in your own, "Daeron, this could be good for me."

Out of the corner of your vision, you could see Aemond as he watched you both with a calculating gaze. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"Then if you're sure, let's get you packed," Daeron spoke.

Aemoned hummed in a pleased tone, "Good. It is three days of travel one way. Pack enough and pack light. I will be waiting at the stables." He wasted no time before walking down the three steps to your living space, across the room, and out the door. It was then that you realized the implication of his words. He said that he would be waiting. Was Aemond going on this trip with you?

"Did... did your brother just say he will be waiting?" You questioned Daeron as he helped you stand up.

Daeron reached down and grabbed the bag to give to you, "It appears so."

"Does he not have more... kingly matters to attend to?" He shrugged at your words and moved towards your wardrobe.

"I've learned not to question Aemond. Everything he does has a reason." He reasoned. You took in the expanse of your room to see it in such disarray. You had destroyed many things in your initial bout of anger and had yet to clean it up. Your small two-person dining table had been turned on its side. One of the walls had torn banners from where you threw a jug of wine; the glass from the jug lay in a pile on the floor. Other things, such as pillows and blankets, had been strewn about.

"I'm sorry about all of this..." You spoke.

Daeron turned to see you scanning the room and the mess you had made in the early stages of your grief, "Do not apologize. Grief is something my family is accustomed to."

A part of you, perhaps days ago, would have persisted for an explanation, but you were already tired and had yet to even begin packing. Instead of speaking further, you decided to get to work and walked to your wardrobe to pick out some clothing. At least then, your mind could be distracted by something other than Lyra's toothy smile.

☾⋆⁺₊✧✧₊⁺⋆☾

You stood in the courtyard outside the stables and watched as an entourage of guards began to prep multiple horses and supplies. Initially, one of them had asked when you would get in the carriage they had set up, but you refused and picked to ride instead. More fresh air was likely the better option. There were a few carts prepped to carry supplies. The canvas and fabrics led you to understand there would be camping on the three-day trip to the lake. Your bag of supplies had already been strapped to a horse.

Aemond had been overseeing the preparation and you watched him from a distance as he commanded his men. There was nothing you could do to help. Daeron had already exchanged goodbyes with you. Your name was called by a familiar voice behind you and you turned to see Helaena and Aegon approaching.

"You would leave without saying goodbye? Am I worth nothing to you?" Aegon jested.

You rolled your eyes, but could not muster up a smile, "Yes, Helaena, I wanted to say goodbye." You gave full attention to the princess and Aegon clutched his chest to pretend he had been stabbed.

Helaena stopped just short in front of you and reached a hand out to rest on your shoulder. This was the first time she had gotten so close to you and her touch was both a tremendous surprise and a warm delight. Even Aegon looked momentarily stunned but brushed it off.

"Stay safe," Helaena then dropped her arm and backed up. Her gaze drifted to the area around her.

"If I find any neat insect, I'll be sure to bring it back," You informed her and Helaena smiled brightly before dismissing herself to go to one of the gardens.

When she left you, your attention shifted to Aegon, "Have a drink for me at the celebration party tonight."

Aegon nodded, "Of course," He then got closer and looked around to make sure nobody could overhear, "I will try and make progress on your father's disappearance while you're gone." He whispered.

Your brows furrowed and you lowered your voice as well, "From what possible leads?"

Aegon's face morphed into staunch seriousness, "I have my suspicions. Do not worry about it and enjoy your trip." He reached an arm around your shoulders and gave you a side hug. His free hand came up to ruffle your hair. You struggled to break free from his grip. Suddenly, all of the instances you had in your life yearning for siblings washed away. If siblings were this annoying, you would take no part in it.

You swatted his hand away, "I will try and enjoy it, but it may not be the best break given Aemond is joining."

"Does it ever get tiring pretending to hate my brother?" Aegon asked. He released you from his hold and you took a step back.

"I do not hate your brother," You reasoned and crossed your arms, "We just find it hard to..."

"See eye to eye?" Aegon jested, "You know that is entirely rude to say given his affliction. I would expect better from you."

You pushed against his chest and tried to knock him over, but all Aegon did was sway and laugh. Still, not a grin would make its way on your face, but the spirits inside you lightened just partly. Your bickering attracted some attention from the stable attendants and you became acutely aware of yourself. It was like a moment of clarity. Aegon was a good friend, but still a royal family member so your closeness with him could be seen as inappropriate.

Before you could speak, Aegon looked behind you and grinned widely, "Ah, good to see you, brother. Were you going to leave without saying goodbye?"

"That was the plan." Aemond's deep voice, eerily close to you, ran down your spine. You turned to see him less than a foot away. Despite talking to his brother, his eye was trained on you.

"Well then, I can see I am not wanted," Aegon said. He squeezed your shoulder, "Safe travels, my lady," He nodded to his brother as a form of goodbye and then left, walking up the courtyard and back into the castle.

"You've packed what you need?" Aemond asked you.

With your crossed arms, you rubbed your upper biceps to soothe yourself. You did not mind being around Aemond, but all those past encounters did not involve such a wide range of servants and courtiers around craning their necks to see the king. It felt like everyone was watching you, though most of them were simply going about their tasks for the day.

"It's all on my horse," You responded.

"Good, we must get going while the day is still young." Aemond extended one of his arms to get you to move to the group of horses and carts waiting at the gate. You followed his command and walked across the dirt yard. The illuminating fireflies gave way to your movement. Thinking back to the map you saw of the elf kingdom with Lake Rosemagne, it was located in a break of the trees and you were excited to be out in the sun.

Your horse was next to Aemond's. You recognized the fur pattern and saw the grand detailing in the saddle and accompanying draperies of green. You got up on the horse with ease and Aemond mounted his. You both were located at the front of the travelling party.

Aemond shouted in the elven language at the guards standing at the top of the wall that encircled the courtyard. The large wrought iron gate began to open with a loud groan. You looked at the long path ahead of you, while simultaneously looking at Aemond's figure in the corner of your vision.

He clicked his tongue once and his horse jerked forward into a mellow trot. You tugged on the reins gently, your horse following after the king.