says, 'you called?'
The dislike in his eyes hardens, loathing made wild by a moment of desperation, and as he turns, a gleam of silver in his left hand catches Rhaenys' eye.
It all happens very quickly.
Cole lashes out, and Flemeth catches his wrist, and twists. He makes a startled, pained sound, the momentum sending him to one knee, and the dagger in his hand clatters to the floor, the sound of metal striking stone ringing out like a confession.
The crowd of onlookers goes very still.
Flemeth stares down at Cole with an almost bored expression. 'I suggest you stay down'.
Cole doesn't listen. Perhaps it's the humiliation of being so easily disarmed by a woman, or an inability to look past his hatred and see sense, that drives him to shake her off with a snarl, and reach for his sword.
The sword is half way out of his scabbard when Flemeth steps forward, and backhands him across the face.
There's an audible crack, and Cole drops like a stone.
He hits the floor with a clang of armour, his neck twisted at an unnatural angle, the skin of his cheek shredded by the metal woven to the back of Flemeth's glove, his face frozen in a final expression of hatred.
Chaos erupts.
It takes some time for order to be restored.
In the time it takes for Viserys to arrive on the scene, and gather his wits enough to order the hall emptied, Rhaenys has already had a discreet word with Daemon, who'd been the first of the family to reach her.
The Hand is currently too busy voicing his outrage to notice Daemon's absence, and by the time he does, it'll be too late. Cole's room will have been secured and searched, and any evidence he was too stupid to destroy will have been found.
With any luck, they'll have definitive proof of Otto's involvement. Even if they don't, his current behaviour will hardly reflect well on him.
'The Queen's sworn shield has been murdered in view of at least a dozen witnesses, Your Grace!' Otto's gaze remains fixed on Flemeth as he speaks, and his delight at his perceived advantage is rather entertaining to Rhaenys.
Flemeth appears to share her opinion, the corner of her mouth quirked as she ignores the man. She's leaning against the closest pillar, one arm folded over her stomach, the other lifted so that she can inspect the blood on the back of her glove. 'I think you'll find those witnesses will tell you I actually prevented a murder here tonight, Lord Hand'.
'What?'
'Ser Cole attempted to kill me,' Rhaenys gestures to the dagger still lying when it fell, 'I was lucky Lady Flemeth intervened when she did'.
'That is a lie!' Alicent's face is wet with tears, her voice edged with a note of hysteria, a woman clinging desperately to a lie she's told herself for so long that she almost believes it's true. 'Ser Cole was an honourable man! He would never commit such a deed!'
Flemeth turns her head slowly to give Alicent a genuinely quizzical look. 'Did he not commit such a crime already? In this very hall?'
Two splotchy blots of colour appear in her cheeks. 'That was different!'
'It was indeed'. Rhaenys keeps her voice even, and her gaze away from her son. 'This time, he faced the consequences'.
Alicent rounds on her, and Rhaenys ignores her outrage to address Viserys, who still appears stunned by the proceedings. 'Your Grace', she says, her voice cool and calm, 'the man attempted to remove me from the hall. When I refused to go with him, he became physical, and insulted our family. Flemeth disarmed him, and warned him not to make matters worse. He did not listen'.
Viserys looks aghast at her words, and there's a part of her that wants to shake him. Cole already had a history of violence, perpetrated in this very hall, and he had ignored her warning that such a man was not suited to the Kingsguard, just as he'd ignored her request for justice.
If things had been different, Cole's violence might have turned on her grandchildren.
The thought hardens her, and there's an edge to her voice when she gestures towards the two Baratheons, who'd stayed behind when the hall was cleared at her request. 'Ser Borros was one witness among many. But he saw it all'.
'That I did'. Borros squints down at Ser Cole's face, and shakes his head. 'Doesn't surprise me. The man looked Dornish'.
Otto's eyes narrow, clearly taking note of the wine Borros has consumed, and says slowly, 'are you quite sure of what you saw, Ser Borros?'
Borros scowls, but it's Boremund who steps in, his booming voice echoing in the mostly empty hall. 'Are you questioning my son's word, Lord Hand?'
Otto falls silent, his calculating eyes flicking rapidly between the two Baratheons, for once united in their displeasure of him, and turns quickly to Viserys. 'Your Grace—'
'You seem rather eager to defend the man, Lord Hand'. Rhaenys tilts her head slightly, watching her cousin's face, rather than the Hand's. 'The man attempted to kill me, and in so doing he broke his sworn oath to never harm a member of the King's blood. Do you recall what happened to the last member of the Kingsguard to break his oaths, under my grandfather's reign?'
As she'd hoped, the mention of Jaehaerys finally seems to rouse the King. He straightens, and turns to face Corlys. 'Lord Corlys, could you escort the children to their chambers? They have witnessed enough'. His eyes flick briefly to Alicent. 'You will accompany our children'.
Alicent stares at him, her eyes wide and wet, undoubtedly wounded by his dismissal. 'Your Grace -'
'Now'. There's a terse edge to the way Viserys addresses her, as if he's decided that the fault lies with her. While it may be true that Alicent intervened to absolve Cole of his crime against Ser Joffrey, Viserys was the one who listened to her. But Viserys has always found it easier to assign blame than to accept his own faults. 'I will not ask again'.
With one last glance at Cole's twisted corpse, Alicent turns away, beckoning to her children as she goes. Corlys, already surrounded by his grandchildren, Joffrey held securely on his hip, meets Rhaenys' eyes with a questioning look, and she inclines her head slightly. He ushers the children towards the door with low words and steady hands, and Rhaenys breathes a little easier once they're away from the scene of such violence.
Viserys turns to her, and says lowly, 'do you believe the man was involved in… recent events?'
Rhaenys inclines her head slightly. 'I do. But I will find out for certain'.
'Your Grace -'
Viserys holds up a hand, and Otto falls silent. Viserys keeps his eyes on Rhaenys, his jaw set, and says, 'I expect to be informed at once'.
'Of course'.
Viserys turns to Flemeth then, and his shoulders slump a little, as if the strain of his recovery has become too much for him. 'You have my thanks, Lady Flemeth, for saving my cousin's life'.
Flemeth inclines her head slightly, her expression blank, and all she says in response is, 'you should rest, Your Grace'.
It doesn't surprise Rhaenys when her cousin turns away, motioning for Otto and Ser Harrold to accompany him. Viserys has always done what is easy in moments such as this, and right now it is easier for him to leave this matter to her. Otto will undoubtedly try to convince him to seek some kind of recompense for Cole's death, but in truth Rhaenys doubts Viserys will act. He did nothing when Cole murdered Ser Joffrey at his own daughter's wedding, and he must know how it would look if he did something now. Besides which, Viserys would never attempt to punish Flemeth. He owes her too much.
With Viserys and the Hand gone, Rhaenys has someone send for the Silent Sisters. She plans to attend the scene for long enough to determine if there's anything incriminating on his person. Rhaenyra and Laena are conversing quietly with Boremund and Borros, undoubtedly thanking them for their aid, and Rhaenys turns to see Laenor approaching her
'Mother?' Laenor takes one of her hands in his own, his eyes full of concern. 'Are you well?'
She can only imagine what he must've thought upon hearing the commotion, and what he might have feared. She holds his gaze as she nods, and lifts her free hand to cup his cheek. 'I am'. She drops her hand to his shoulder, and gives it a gentle squeeze. 'And I… I apologise for the memories this must have stirred'.
Laenor swallows tightly, and lifts her hand to kiss her knuckles. He turns to look at Flemeth, and murmurs, 'I know you've heard it already, but thank you for protecting my mother, Flemeth'.
Flemeth smiles, the ice in her eyes warming as she moves closer to them. 'Your thanks is worth far more than the King's, young man'. She glances down at Cole's corpse, and her smile is a sharp, pleased thing. 'He'd escaped justice for far too long'.
Laenor doesn't seem surprised that Flemeth knows of Ser Joffrey, and his smile, though small, is genuine. 'And you have my thanks for dispensing it. Even if there are some who will call it vengeance'.
Flemeth snorts. 'Justice and vengeance are simply two sides of the same blade'. The corner of her mouth quirks faintly. 'Though perhaps the latter is more apt, if I served as the sword on this occasion'.
Rhaenys raises her brow. 'Oh?'
Flemeth idly rubs the now dried blood on her glove between two fingers, and murmurs, 'I told you once that Asha'Bellenar was a title. It is not the only one I've acquired over the years'.
'That does not surprise me'.
Flemeth's smile widens a little; a sharp slant of her mouth that makes something stir in Rhaenys' abdomen. 'There was a time when I was sought out by those who felt they had been denied justice. If I agreed with them, I dispensed it in their name. For that, the guilty called me the Mother of Vengeance'.
Laenor laughs, a choked, relieved sound that catches in the back of his throat like he can't quite believe what's occurred. He stares down at the corpse at his feet for a moment, and murmurs, 'well, whether through justice or vengeance, at least Joffrey can rest easy now'.
'And you, young man?' Flemeth's gaze slides past Laenor's face to meet Rhaenys' eyes, and Rhaenys feels as if the golden fire in the woman's eyes burns within her veins. 'Are you satisfied?'
When Laenor lifts his head, there's a light in his eyes that Rhaenys hasn't seen since his lover was murdered in this very hall, and that tells her that he is.
But beneath the intensity of Flemeth's gaze, Rhaenys feels the heat curl tight in her lower belly, and wonders if the woman knows she isn't.
And that it's entirely Flemeth's fault.