2nd Moon Of 288 AC

The cover of night, it lay atop her like the Old Hawk had so many times in the nights before. She still wretched at the thought of it. One would think after so many years you’d grow used to it; to the feel of him thrusting, barely inside her, to the sallow pants of sordid breath and the burn of disgust that chained her heart through every waking moment.

She still screeched at the thought of it, even as she’d become numb with the price she was forced to pay. It was as if she was held hostage in her own home, her children turning in to half formed ghosts under her own sight, all she could see was their wrinkled father, not a wink of Dayne blood, no matter how obvious it was to others.

They were her pride and joy once, now they were but monsters who lurked behind every corner and called her mother. Each pleading word and asking tone was like ants biting at her skin. She had to escape, to fly the coop per say before it killed her. There were nights where the thought of escape was the only thing that kept her moving. But as she spent each dusken night and dawning morning treading the same familiar halls, passing the same lintels and arches. It became suffocating as if a pillow was smothering her with every step.

So she made her plan, but even now as her hands reached out, slowly drifting across rock and lime. It was surreal, it was coming to fruition in a way she hadn’t believed it would before. It was nothing much, she was just to leave under the guise of a trip home. She took those often enough, to allow her a few moments of reprieve. But this would be final, the only way one would see her in Skyreach was as a corpse or a prisoner.

Elyana was done with the castle forsaken by her and hers, it had become a cage that cooped the bird and now she was to fly free.

She slowed, her gaze shuddering as her plans shivered and cracked slightly as she listened to the slow giggle of her children. They were her blood and yet she doted more on the mare who would gallop her to freedom than she would them. Surely, they’d forget her in enough time, but she still remembered most from that age and if they did too? Could she live with the guilt? Well she’d have to.

The ties of blood weren’t worth her life. She wouldn’t sob her worries away nor drink them to a forgotten burial. She’d flee from House Fowler as if she was some lords whore because at least then she’d be able to see the stars and not think about how she’d trudge through the next day. At least then she’d be able to sleep in her bed without worrying he’d come to her to dip his wick before falling asleep without even a single sensation on her part.

Dishonour! They’d scream but she’d rather be dishonoured than bear witness to her own death before she stopped breathing. Just one more night and this man forged horror will be over, she thought to herself as she remained listening on the twins cackling at each other.

They’d have each other at the very least. But that didn’t alleviate her guilt, a freshly formed seed that had begun to germinate. The Dayne clenched her jaw, screwed her eyes shut as she blew two final kisses from behind closed doors. A price in kisses. Maybe she’d leave some roses behind.

Something in her loved them, but it didn’t outweigh what the heart wished for her. To be gone, to fade into the shadows of their lives and live out her own life, no longer tied to crusty corpses who still walked and held a ragged breath and childish girls who didn’t seem her own anymore.

She turned. Her star kissed hair swaying with the plump of her body. Slowly, not rushing in anyway she took her walk of shame back to her chambers. Pushing the creaking gate to her own hell as she braced herself, one last night and it will all be done. Her price will be payed, her freedom will be garnered and perhaps she’d find happiness. A woman could hope after all.