[The memory begins in a single room. A bedroom, and one fit for a ruler besides - the walls are wrought in blacks and golds, and the bed itself - richly decorated and very much of a style with the understated opulence of the room itself - looks like it might have once fit two quite comfortably, and with no small amount of comfort besides. Now, however, it holds but one: an old man, hair and beard long since faded to white, resting propped up against a veritable nest of pillows.
(Though he no longer has the strength to wear them, the trappings of his office, a heavy crown and heavier pauldrons that bear a flowing cape between them, rest over a chair, as if he might one day spring from his bed and don them again.)
A moment passes, and the doors to the room open as another man enters. A younger man, tall with long blond hair that is so pale as to be nearly white and a military bearing.]
Will you not speak on the matter of succession?
[This is directed at the man in the bed, in tones that suggest that this a conversation that they have had a number of times already.]
No. [Despite his apparent age, the older man's voice has a decent amount of strength to it, save where a wheezing cough interrupts. When the fit finishes, he continues on as if it had never happened.] I will speak no more on the matter.
[Silence follows then, and after a moment longer, the younger man turns and leaves, the door slamming shut with an unsettling finality after him.]
for Thane
(Though he no longer has the strength to wear them, the trappings of his office, a heavy crown and heavier pauldrons that bear a flowing cape between them, rest over a chair, as if he might one day spring from his bed and don them again.)
A moment passes, and the doors to the room open as another man enters. A younger man, tall with long blond hair that is so pale as to be nearly white and a military bearing.]
Will you not speak on the matter of succession?
[This is directed at the man in the bed, in tones that suggest that this a conversation that they have had a number of times already.]
No. [Despite his apparent age, the older man's voice has a decent amount of strength to it, save where a wheezing cough interrupts. When the fit finishes, he continues on as if it had never happened.] I will speak no more on the matter.
[Silence follows then, and after a moment longer, the younger man turns and leaves, the door slamming shut with an unsettling finality after him.]