THIRTEEN —— TELL ME WHY THIS HAS TO END

106 AC, STORM'S END.

There's a restlessness to Morrigan's chest— an unsteady rhythm that will not steady out no matter her efforts the closer the date of her departure draws. Now, so shortly before her return to King's Landing, she is plagued by the knowledge day and night— even her dreams warp into nightmares. If she can sleep, that is.

Her grandfather greets her with a smile as she enters the chamber he is using for private audiences, but it feels strained to her. "There you are, dear," he greets her as she steps inside, door closing behind her and she finds her father and Maester Lyonel standing around his desk, looking up at her.

She pauses, taking them in for a moment before she glances at her grandfather. He'd send a servant boy to fetch her, but perhaps urgent word had come or a discussion had run long. "Should I return later?" She asks, glancing at the Lord of Storm's End.

Her grandfather shakes his head. "No, no. Stay." He waves his left hand in the air. "It won't take long anyways."

Morrigan nods slowly, advancing into the room until she is at their side.

"Lord Brandon Tully's reply came late last night," her grandfather informs her. "He writes that they are overjoyed with such news."

Morrigan frowns a little. "So they accept?"

Her grandfather nods. "They accept."

She'd known— she had known that this would be the answer, and still, something heavy settles in her stomach. Like she's a rock, sinking in the sea down, down, down—

"When will the official announcement be?" Morrigan asks because she knows they must've already discussed this. Everyone involved in the decisions of these matters is already here.

"Soon— likely immediately upon your return to King's Landing."

Morrigan swallows. "And the wedding?"

There's a sort of grief in her grandfather's eyes that she cannot bear to see. "Early summer," he tells her and it's like announcing the date of her execution. "Soon, but with the appropriate amount of time to the king's own wedding."

Morrigan nods, numbly.

"The wedding will be held in King's Landing, in the Sept," Maester Lyonel explains in his gentle voice. "It's a fitting neutral ground, not Riverrun or Storm's End, especially considering that both you and your future husband are living in the city already and have made no intentions clear that either of you wish to leave the city anytime soon."

Morrigan had not— and she did not want to leave. If she could not be in Storm's End, where she belonged, at least the Gods could let her be in King's Landing, where she was not entirely alone. For the first time, she is glad for Edmyn Tully's place so high in the City Watch. Of course he could leave— but what man would leave so soon after just receiving such a high position?

Unless his brother passes suddenly, or another reason compels him, Edmyn Tully will stay in King's Landing for quite some time.

Or another reason compels him— the thought echoes in her mind and nausea roils in her stomach, climbing up her throat. There is only one reason Morrigan could think of that would drive Edmyn Tully out of the city and back to the riverlands and it has everything to do with the duties that will be expected of her to fulfill once they are married.

Around her, the room spins, blood roaring in her ears so loudly, she can hardly make out the outlines of the three men around her.

She smiles at them and prays that she doesn't fall over. "Is there any other matter you wished to discuss, grandfather?"

Her grandfather is watching her, gray eyes unreadable. "No. That is all."

She smiles again and it feels like a grimace stretching the skin of her face too much. "Thank you," she says and turns, leaving.

She barely makes it to the nearest washroom before she vomits.

———————

Morrigan is standing at the cliff's edge a short walk away from Storm's End, head tilted back and eyes closed, taking in the wind against her in silence. She wonders when she will feel the violent winds of Durran's Point the next time— how many years will she have to endure away from this place, woven into her very soul?

She thinks the answer might break her apart, if she knew.

The looming departure has tinged the new year in a shade of ugly grief and longing, and no matter how happy she could ever be to see Rhaenyra and Alicent again— it holds no torch to the idea that she had to bear the absence to this place, these people— her home, her people— again.

At the sound of soft footsteps, Morrigan straightens a little, head turning to her right to find Cassandra making her way over to her, Ser Rodrik a small figure in the distance, watching them.

It's easy— instinct, really— to spot the expression on her younger sister's face and to read it. Like it'd just been yesterday that they'd spend every day in their life together, right in the same place. Morrigan thinks it's one of those things one does never quite unlearn once they've mastered the skill.

There's a severe sort of expression to Cassandra Baratheon that doesn't come natural to her— her posture is too stiff, to tense, her head held high in a way that tells Morrigan that she is trying to imitate their mother's courtly posture. Her's now, too, she supposes. But Cassandra is only ten and so the attempt at coming across as serious and rigid when it is not something she really wants to do, feels awkward and unnatural— especially to Morrigan's eyes.

She's known Cassandra since her sister had been a newborn in the cradle and she will know her until the first of them goes to the grave.

She'll always know her— and know the truths she wants to hide.

Sometimes she thinks it's as much a curse as a gift.

Alden has this too— the gift which was also a curse— he could read her like an open book. Like Rodrik, like Eric. Like she can her sisters. Like her sisters can each other.

"What's the matter?" Morrigan says softly, resisting the urge to reach out and gently brush one of her sister's dark waves— the same exact one as her own— over her shoulder in a comforting gesture.

She's not entirely sure if Cassandra's at that age yet when such forms of affection might make her feel indignant; like Morrigan is treating her like nothing more than a little child and not taking her seriously.

Morrigan thinks that it's very much possible to do both. Cassandra is still her little sister— she will always be her little sister— but she's always taken her serious, too.

Maybe that's just what makes the difference with sisters and anyone else. Even their parents see them as nothing more than their little girls sometimes— especially her younger sisters.

Cassandra almost shrugs, her shoulders twitching a little, but she doesn't look at her as she says, "I thought I might come and take the time so say goobye to you before you depart so early tomorrow." Her sister says, a little stiffly.

Morrigan knows that it was her parents' idea— to give them the opportunity to take the time for a proper send off, rather than a handful fleeting moments tomorrow, in the hectics of her departure— but she hates the fact that this makes Cassandra unable to even bear to look her in the eyes.

"That's nice of you," she says sofly. "How about we spend the day with each other then? All of us sisters?"

Now she does reach out and brush one of her sister's locks aside— she can't help herself.

Cassandra jolts a little at the brief contact, before she shrugs again. Still staring out at the sea.

"Cass?" Morrigan asks, voice gentle.

She shrugs again. "Sounds nice," Cassandra replies, but there is a hollow quality to her tone.

Morrigan lets out a quiet breath. "Cass."

Cassandra spins around to her, mood tipping over from uncomfortable and sad to angry and Morrigan can see her own self in her sister, lashing out from pain, when she glares at her.

"I hate this," Cassandra announces and angrily wipes at her eyes— getting rid of the evidence of her tears before they have a chance to betray her and fall. "I hate saying goodbye to you." She looks at Morrigan, a fierce expression on her face. "You don't belong there. You don't belong with Edmyn Tully in Riverrun," she almost spits the name. "You belong here, at home. In the stormlands."

Grief etched into her expression, her sister looks so much older than a girl who would only turn ten and one this year.

Morrigan's face twists, the familiar, open wound in her chest throbbing painfully. "You know if I could, I would stay here," she reminds her.

Cassandra gives her an angry look, shaking her head. "You don't belong there!" She exclaims, and now her tears are falling. "You belong with us."

"You know why I am doing this, Cass," Morrigan says softly, but an edge in her tone. "You know why I agreed to leave to King's Landing and you know why I agreed to marry Edmyn Tully."

Her sister presses her lips together, chin wobbling as she stares away from her, eyes fixed on the thrashing waves below them.

"Cass," Morrigan says softly, pleadingly.

Her sister sniffs. "I know why you're doing it," she mutters, before she looks back at her, eyes flashing. There's so much desperation in her gaze it makes Morrigan want to scream. "But that doesn't mean I have to like it."

The sound of her sister's voice breaking at the end of her words nearly breaks Morrigan's chest in two.

"I hate this, too," she confesses quietly.

Cassandra sniffs again, wiping at her cheeks before she leans against Morrigan, nestling her body against hers. "I don't want you to go," she whispers. "I don't want to lose you again."

Morrigan's throat bobs as she wraps her arms around her sister, holding her as tightly as she possibly can— as if she might slip out of her grasp at any moment like water. "You won't ever lose me, Cass. I promise."

And she will keep her promise— she doesn't care what horrors she needs to commit to do so.

AUTHOR'S NOTE,
no idea if washrooms existed during the asoiaf timeline then, but,,, as a fanfic writer who does this as a hobby i guess it doesn't matter at all so,,, sorry 💀🤣

this was supposed to be up last night but when ur ancient, very introverted grandma of a dog wants you to scratch a v specific part of her head all on her own then u do it even if it's almost midnight and you've been at it for like, half an hour 🤷‍♀️ so it's here now!!

i've asked this on my profile already, but: if you were to make a playlist for this fic, which songs would you add?(might ask this later into the fic again to see how the answers change but i am v curious to see which songs you all think of, so lemme know! ❤)