Part MMDCXLV: King's Accounting
King's Accounting
Twentieth Day of the Eighth Month 293 AC
When you speak, it is with care and sincerity: "We are two different people you and I, Sandor, but we've both experienced our own sorrows and tragedies. I can't promise what I did in response to them is the unequivocal 'right path', for I am still on it. Seeking out the threads of fate throughout our lives is what led to the war and madness that befell my House in part to the constant delusions dogging our footsteps that either the Gods are the ultimate arbitrators of such, playing with us as if we were pieces on a Cyvasse board, or else the delusion that we ourselves were Gods to be in command of the very hearts of all men. I can't command you to see that any more than Tywin Lannister can order me to die for having the temerity to escape an unchancy fate."
The Hound looks you up and down with that same vague confusion he had show before Dany from the start, as though he can't quite fit you in some neat mental row. Finally he settles on: "The Old Lion wouldn't have called it an 'accident' for you..." He glances at your sister. "Nor for her. He would have crowed about it from the rooftops, maybe had the singers make up another song."
"Well then, I suppose we aught to add poor taste in music to his sins," Dany snorts. She smiles looking to the Hound. "No, I'm not scared of him. There are worse things to be scared of out there than one dreadful old man who would paint the Seven Kingdoms red for the sake of his damnable pride."
"If we are to hold ourselves both accountable to the follies of those that came before us, so too must there be people to hold them accountable," you say with quiet conviction.
"Good luck with that." The words begin as a cynical send off, but there is a trickle of sincerity pulling at them. You suspect the Hound truly wishes you good fortune in that, but he does not believe there is enough luck for that in all the world.
"Luck is useful, help even more so," you reply. "We are often on the lookout for allies in that task, given the many twists and turns it has led us down."
He does not answer, but the silence does not quite have the weight of denial.
So do you take your leave: "Good fortune in the tourney, Clegane. I really mean that. I believe if you simply look around you will witness some of the answers you are looking for... but personally, I am inclined towards finding those answers for myself."
As you and Dany withdraw from the room Leto is of a mind to stay a while longer and Clegane to let her, a hopeful sign if a small one. The irony of trusting a wounded soul to a devil does not escape you, but there is no bitterness to it.
***
"Do you think he will listen?" your sister asks later as the two of you walk towards the Temple of Yss, the revelry of the festival a pleasant companion to the brisk evening breeze.
"I think he might. He's certainly been shaken up enough, but... he is wounded enough to have grown accustomed to misery, seeing all the world through its eyes," you reply, knowing that in the end only Sandor can push himself back on his feet, though you might offer a helping hand for him to take.
"I know," she sighs. "I wanted to heal his face, but I knew he would take that badly, an absolution he does not feel he deserves. Hopefully he will offer himself leniency from that cruel judgement soon."
What do you do next?
[] Do an interview
-[] Write in subject
[] Approach Mors Umber to see why the man is here so openly
-[] Write in
[] Speak to Yss and offer his sacrifices
-[] Write in
[] Write in
OOC: Not entirely happy with how short this is, or how uneasy the ending is, but in the end I decided it fits more than I originally thought since Viserys and Dany are both people who like to solve problems but this problem was not in their hands ultimately so both of them are uncomfortable, feeling like they should have done more, in spite of knowing it would not have helped to push.
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