Chapter 6:
He was glad they had left the capital city behind, even if he did not get to see much of it at all.
The first glimpse of King's Landing had been like nothing Caelum had ever imagined. From their vantage on the high road, as they left the Kingswood Forest, the city spread out like a giant, glittering anthill, consisting of massive buildings, manses, and winding alleys, some towers even piercing the sky.
Larger and more expansive than the Briar, the labyrinth city between the two outer walls of Highgarden.
He'd gasped and wowed at the marvel as it slowly approached behind the giant river gates, across the glistening waters of the Blackwater Rush.
Buildings crowded against each other in a riot of colors, their roofs jumbled like mismatched tiles. And below it all, coiling like a lazy serpent, was the Blackwater Rush, its surface flashing silver in the sun.
But his wonder had soon faded to disgust.
"Ugh," Garlan had groaned, his face had been pinched into a mask of revulsion. "What is that smell?"
The city smelled worse than his farm's pigsty in midsummer, was louder than a crowing rooster at dawn, and was more crowded than the Mander Hills Inn on market day.
Lady Olenna had snorted at her grandson. "Don't let it turn your stomach too much, boys. You get used to it. Or you get a perfumer." She had sniffed with disgust and then fished a small bottle from her sleeve. "Rose water," she offered. "A splash on your sleeves, and collars can work wonders."
Willas had accepted it gratefully, while Garlan, less concerned with propriety, had simply pinched his nose shut. And had asked Meredith to close the curtains of the wheelhouse they were traveling in.
Caelum, however, hadn't been troubled by the smell alone. It was the noise that had made his heart pound and his teeth ache.
The closer they drew, the louder it became – a cacophony of shouts, hooves on cobblestones, the relentless clang of smiths' hammers. It was like all the sounds in the world had been fighting for space inside his head. Tears had pricked at his eyes, and he fought the urge to clamp his hands over his ears.
A wave of dizziness had washed over him, the world spinning, and he for a moment he felt he had seen ghosts, and bones in the carriage with them. It was growing too much. His skull had pulsed with every heartbeat, the world a blur of shouts and colors.
"Caelum?" Willas' voice sounded strangely muffled, as if from underwater. "You all right? You don't look so good…"
He hadn't wanted to seem like a baby, especially not with Willas and Garlan watching.
He had tried to keep his composure, as he shifted in Meredith's lap uncomfortably. With great strength, he had managed a nod "I'm fine, just … tired"
Meredith had noticed his pallor. "Here, Caelum," she'd said, pressing a handkerchief into his hand. The scent of the rose water Lady Olenna had given them clung heavily to it. "Block your nose, it might help with the smell."
He'd mumbled a thank you, too embarrassed to explain that it wasn't the smell, but the… everything.
He wanted to ask for quiet, for silence, but his tongue felt too thick and heavy in his mouth.
Then came the final blow.
As their carriage rumbled through the bridge toward River Gate as it swung open to let them in, the iron hinges groaned in protest, a screech that sliced through his skull like a hot knife. The world tipped sideways and then went dark.
The last thing he heard, as if from a great distance, was Meredith's alarmed cry. "Caelum!"
It had been embarrassing.
He had awoken in a soft bed, inside Meredith's tent. The party having left the city behind a day ago.
But he was glad the city was behind them now.
A wave of shame washed over him as memories of his embarrassing collapse flooded back. He'd fainted... in front of his friends. In front of kind Lady Alerie, and old Lady Olenna. And in front of Meredith.
Worse, Meredith had not left his side for long, he had been a distraction to her job, one that Luke had gotten for her after she'd complained about the idiot patrons back at her Ma's inn.
And it wasn't even the smell as everyone assumed. That had troubled almost the entire party, but no one had complained about the noise.
And he couldn't come to tell them in his shame.
They'd all been bothered by that, but only he had been brought to his knees by something as simple as some loud noise.
"Caelum?" Meredith's voice, soft and laced with concern, broke through his thoughts. "How do you feel?"
"I'm okay, Mary. Like I said, I was tired" he didn't want to tell her the truth. "I'm sorry"
Meredith's brows furrowed in confusion. "Sorry for what, Caelum?"
"For… for causing trouble," he mumbled, avoiding her gaze. "For taking you away from your job." He felt heat rising in his cheeks, and knew he was probably as red as a boiled lobster.
Meredith's expression softened. "Oh, Caelum," she breathed, reaching out to smooth a lock of hair from his forehead. "Don't you ever say that. Lady Olenna didn't mind, and Anya took over for the day. The city was… overwhelming. Any grown man could have fainted after that smell, I should have known it would have been worse for you."
Her words, meant to reassure, only made him feel worse. The smell hadn't been the cause, yet he didn't want to tell her that the noise had been the true cause.
"And besides," Meredith continued, her brown eyes warm, "it wasn't any trouble. Lady Alerie and Lady Olenna insisted you rest. And don't you worry about Lord Willas and Garlan, they were more concerned about you. The servants at the Red Keep took care of everything, I wasn't away from my duties for long. Luke helped when I was needed to look after the little lords."
Caelum felt a fresh surge of guilt. Not only had he fainted, making a fool of himself, but he'd also worried Luke, and his friends.
And worst of all, he'd distracted Meredith who clearly had plenty to do tending to his friends.
"I should have been stronger," he muttered, the words catching in his throat. "I didn't mean to cause so much trouble for Luke..."
Meredith gently brushed a strand of hair back from his face. "Luke isn't troubled," she reassured him. "He was worried, sure, but he understands. And as for me, well, Willas and Garlan are good company. They're waiting for you in the tent with Lady Alerie, and Lady Olenna. "Should I tell them you're awake?"
Caelum swallowed hard. He dreaded facing Willas and Garlan after making such a spectacle of himself.
He couldn't bear the thought of their pity or, worse, their laughter.
"No! I mean... I should go to them," he stammered, heat rising to his cheeks.
Meredith gave him a gentle smile. "They'll be happy to see you, Caelum. They were worried about you."
Her kind words only deepened his embarrassment. "I'm fine," he insisted.
Sensing his hesitation, Meredith placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "It's all right to feel a little shaken up," she said. "Anyone would be, after what happened. Lord Willas and Lord Garlan, they're good children, they understand. They're your friends."
He nodded but couldn't meet her eyes. With Meredith's help, he sat up, the world swaying slightly.
Together, they made their way through the camp to the larger, lavishly decorated tent that served as the lords' private quarters. He avoided looking at the people and guards that milled about, afraid he would see mockery in their eyes.
The guards were quick to make way from him, and Meredith as they approached.
"-you need to look your best, Willas, Garlan. And be on your best behavior" He heard Lady Alerie's stern voice coming from the tent. "All the lords and ladies of the realm will be there. If you promise, you can ride into the keep alongside your father."
As they entered the tent, the conversation ceased abruptly. Lady Alerie looked up at them, surprise replacing her sternness. Lady Olenna's shrewd gaze flicked between them; her lips pursed in thought.
Willas and Garlan, immediately abandoning their discussion with their mother and rushed to his side. "Caelum!" they chorused, genuine relief washing over their faces.
"You're awake!" Willas exclaimed. "Mother said you were just tired, but you slept for almost a whole day!"
"Are you feeling better?" Garlan asked, his eyes wide with concern.
Caelum managed a weak smile, avoiding Lady Alerie's gaze. "Yes, much better," he said.
"You're sure you're all right?" Garlan pressed, a touch of worry lingering in his voice. "You look a bit...green around the gills still."
Willas nodded in agreement, his concern furrowing his brow. "Yeah, I wish Maester Lomys were here, he'd know what was wrong with your breathing. Maybe there's a maester at Harrenhall..."
"No, no, really, I'm fine," Caelum insisted, the attention making him squirm. "It was just the city. It was a bit much for me, that's all."
Willas placed a comforting hand on Caelum's shoulder. "Well, next time, you better have that kerchief ready and doused in Grandma's rose water. You gave us quite a fright!"
"He should wear one around his neck at all times!" Garlan declared a mischievous glint in his eye that helped dispel the tension. "Like how knights wear their lady's favor. Maybe it'll ward off bad smells, and he can smell like a flower at all times. Then he'd be called Ser Caelum Starborne, The Flower Knight!... when you become a knight that is."
A chuckle escaped Caelum despite his embarrassment. Their concern was so genuine, and a bit of teasing felt normal, a welcome relief after his humiliating episode.
"Maybe not around my neck," he managed, a real smile beginning to form. "But I'll definitely remember the rose water."
"Well, seeing that he is getting better" Lady Olenna's voice cut through the conversation, reminding him that he was still in their presence making him flush red "Meredith, dear I think you can return to your duties again."
Meredith gave him a reassuring nod before addressing the Tyrells. "My apologies, Lady Alerie, Lady Olenna," she said, inclining her head slightly. "I will return to my duties immediately."
A prickle of guilt returned, but before he could apologize. Lady Alerie was already addressing her sons.
"Very well, boys," she said, the stern notes in her voice softening. "Now that Caelum is recovering, you can go and play yourselves. But remember, I don't want to see a single speck of dirt on your tunics before we depart."
Willas and Garlan beamed, their worries seemingly forgotten. "Thank you, Mother!" they chorused, practically bouncing with excitement.
Her gaze lingering on them fondly, Lady Alerie then turned her attention back to business. "Now, let's see. Meredith, ensure the boys have something suitable for the ride into Harrenhall. I want them to look their best. After all, the eyes of the realm will be upon them!" A hint of pride, a subtle warning mixed into her tone.
Willas puffed out his chest, a determined glint in his eyes. "We won't disappoint you, Mother! We promise to behave like proper lords."
Garlan, rarely to be outdone, echoed the sentiment. "Yes, Mother. Just wait, everyone at Harrenhall will be talking about how well-behaved we are, and then they will make us Knights!"
Lady Alerie smiled, a touch of amusement softening her features. "I have no doubt they will. Now, off you go. And remember," she raised a finger in playful warning, "your promise for the honor of riding into Harrenhall alongside your father!"
"We won't forget!" The boys declared in unison, then dragging Caelum alongside them, they scampered out of the tent, excitement radiating off them.
Willas turned back, his enthusiasm overflowing. "Caelum, when we get to Harrenhall, you should ride too! There are always extra horses. Luke could share his with you!"
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Even days later, with the bustle of the tourney now thrumming all around him, Luke couldn't shake the memory of his first glimpse of Harrenhal.
The monstrous castle hadn't just appeared on the horizon; it had loomed, a vast shadow against the sky. It was as if some giant had scooped up a mountain and sculpted it into a fortress, the towers like gnarled fingers reaching for the clouds.
At first, it had all been a whirlwind of wonder.
The countless faces, so many accents he'd never heard before. Knights in gleaming armor strode past peddlers and mummers, and Luke's head swiveled like a wind vane trying to keep up. There was the sharp tang of horses everywhere, the mouthwatering scents of roasting meat, and a symphony of sounds that never truly ceased, even in the darkest hours of the night.
But even in all the wonder, and excitement of the tourney and the crowd that had gathered around them as the festivities of the first day were set to begin, he couldn't take his mind away from Caelum.
Something was wrong. He knew that in his heart. Meredith knew it too.
Caelum wasn't telling them something, was trying to hide his discomfort and trying to keep on a cheerful smile as though nothing was wrong.
But he'd known him for too long. Caelum had suffered enough through the years for him to know when something was wrong with him no matter how much he tried to hide it.
"Caelum, are you sure you're okay?" He asked the boy as he settled in the stands beside him.
They were seated in the crowds waiting for the festivities to begin after the King and the royal family arrived. Meredith hadn't been able to join them, as she had to stay by the little lords' side while they spent time with other highborn lordlings of the realm.
"Y-yeah. I'm fine…. There's nothing wrong with me." Caelum winced as he said.
Luke sighed, the sound heavy despite his young age. He'd tried to let it go, to simply enjoy the spectacle around them, but concern gnawed at him like a stubborn itch.
"Caelum," he pressed, a note of pleading in his voice, "Come on. We both know somethin' ain't right. What's botherin' you?"
Caelum looked away, the cheerful smile slipping from his face for a second. But then the smile returned full force, it was clear he was not going to get answers from his little brother soon.
Sensing his friend's retreat, Luke decided to change tactics. A sudden grin spread across his face. "Hey, bet you can't see a thing over the heads of all these big folk, can you?"
Caelum squinted, craning his neck. "Not much," he admitted with a slight pout followed by another wince. "The banners are blocking half the field already. And the people are too tall"
Luke chuckled. "Well, how's this then?" He leaned in conspiratorially. "What if I gave you a boost? A proper lookout post, fit for a hero!" He puffed out his chest with exaggerated pride.
Caelum's eyes widened, a flicker of his usual spark returning. "You mean... on your shoulders?"
"The tallest tower in the whole of Harrentown!" Luke declared, already swooping down and placing the boy on his shoulder "C'mon, up you go! Just mind you don't kick me in the ears on the way up, yeah?"
Caelum wriggled with excitement, his earlier worries momentarily forgotten as he settled onto Luke's shoulders. His view transformed, the sea of heads now spreading out beneath him. "Wow!" he breathed, "I can see everything! Even the far end of the lists!"
Luke grinned up at him, the weight of his friend a comfortable burden. Just then, a hush began to fall over the crowd.
Whispers rippled like a wave, necks craned, and bodies shifted for a better look at the King's box.
"What is it?" Caelum asked, his voice barely above the growing silence. "Is something happening?"
"Shhh!" Luke hissed playfully, but his eyes were also fixed on the royal enclosure. "The trumpets are about to sound. That means the King's here!"
A fanfare erupted, a cascade of brass that seemed to tear through the air itself. Caelum flinched, a jolt going through him like a lightning strike. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, the sound echoing in his skull even as it faded.
"Gods, that was loud!" Caelum hissed under his breath, his hands reflexively going to his ears though a thrill of excitement buzzed beneath his words. Luke unable to see his brother's discomfort tried to ask again, but couldn't with the increased fervor of the blaring sound.
But as the trumpets ceased, an unexpected hush descended upon the crowd. It wasn't true silence, but a shift, a change in texture. The roar of voices became a low thrum, punctuated by the rustle of silks and the jingle of bridles as the royal retinue made its entrance.
The herald's voice cut through the stillness, clear and booming. "Behold! His Grace, Aerys of House Targaryen, Second of His Name! King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men! Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm! By his side, his beloved wife, Queen Rhaella!"
Below, a figure emerged onto the balcony. He wasn't clad in shimmering gold like the Prince; his robes were a dull velvet, and his crown a simple circlet of tarnished gold. The man within looked frail, withered. His once-famous Targaryen hair hung in lank strands, his beard untrimmed. Deep lines etched his face, and his eyes held a strange, darting glint.
A wave of gasps rippled through the crowd at the sight of the King.
Luke oblivious to his friend's discomfort gestured. "Look! There's the Queen!" he whispered.
Caelum followed his gaze. Queen Rhaella was a study in contrasts to her husband.
Where he was frail, she stood tall, her back regal despite the worn lines of her face. There were hints of a beauty that must have once been breathtaking, a gentle kindness in her eyes that seemed at odds with the haunted look in the King's.
The herald's voice rose again, "His Royal Highness, Prince Rhaegar Targaryen, Dragon Prince, Prince of Dragonstone, heir to the Iron Throne!"
The crowd erupted in cheers as the silver-haired prince stepped into view. "The Prince looks amazing!" Luke breathed, his eyes wide.
Caelum nodded, the unease he'd felt towards the King replaced by a different kind of awe.
Rhaegar was undeniably handsome, his armor gleaming like moonlight on water. There was a grace to his movements, and poise befitting royalty.
"And at his side," the herald continued, "Princess Elia Nymeros Martell, Princess of Dorne, and their daughter, the Princess Rhaenys!"
A slender woman with olive skin and large, expressive eyes stood beside Rhaegar. She wore the flowing silks of Dorne, and her smile, though warm, held a hint of reserve. A small girl, her mother's miniature, clung to her hand.
There was a gentle curve to Princess Elia's belly, confirming the whispers abound the crowd earlier. That of the imminent arrival of another Royal heir.
A roar erupted from the stands as Rhaegar and his family acknowledged the crowd with regal nods. The noise seemed to swell, wave upon wave of cheers crashing down upon them.
Atop his shoulder, Caelum flinched with each echoing shout, squeezing his eyes shut.
"Caelum," Luke shouted above the din, oblivious to his friend's struggle, "Look! They're bringing out the knights! Isn't that Ser Arthur Dayne? I heard he's the best in the whole kingdom! And his sword is made from Star Metal, like the one that fell on your Pa's farm!"
The herald raised his hand once more, and a hush fell over the crowd, thick and expectant. His voice boomed out, amplified by years of practice.
"Lords and ladies, knights and commons, hear ye! Let the games begin!" Another roar from the crowd, a wave that threatened to crash down upon them Caelum squeezed his eyes shut briefly, but Luke was too enraptured to notice.
"Ten days of glory await!" the herald continued. "Seven days of jousts, a melee fit for the Age of Heroes, trials of skill for axe, for bow, for nimble feet and sweeter voices yet! Yet all this is but a prelude, for Lord Walter Whent, in his surpassing generosity, offers a victor's purse three times greater than any bestowed in living memory!"
A collective gasp rippled through the stands, followed by cheers and shouts of disbelief.
"But why, you ask," The herald's voice grew sly, a grin audible beneath the formality, "Why such largesse, such spectacle worthy of kings? The answer, my friends, lies with the most precious jewel of Harrenhal!" He paused with a flourish, "Lord Walter, in celebration of his maiden daughter's name day, offers this tourney! Let the greatest knights of the realm vie for the favor of the Lady Shircy, one of the fairest of flowers in all the Seven Kingdoms!"
The crowd went wild. Amidst the frenzy, Luke could hear girls giggling, men shouting ribald suggestions.
Unwilling his eyes strained to the Tyrell box in the distance, he could already imagine Meredith's sigh, a part of him wished he could see her face more clearly.
Luke's eyes strained toward the far corner, a few paces beside and beneath the royal box. Meredith was standing behind the little lords of the Tyrell household, as they cheered along with the jeering crowd.
He was glad she was enjoying herself too. As though she could hear his thoughts, she turned and looked right at him from across the stands and smiled at him.
The herald's voice boomed once more, demanding silence. "Before the tourney commences on the morrow, glad tidings for all the realm to enjoy! A new brother joins the ranks of the Kingsguard, sworn to protect His Grace with his very life!"
The crowd stirred, buzzing with curiosity. Luke felt a jolt of surprise. He'd heard whispers that one of the legendary knights had perished.
"At just five and ten, one of the finest Knights of the Seven Kingdoms. The savior of Lord Sumner Crakehall from the atrocious Big Belly Ben. The vanquisher of the psychotic Smiling Knight. Raised to knighthood for valor and glory unmatched by Ser Arthur Dayne himself!" the herald announced. The crowd gradually grew excited. "Ser Jaime Lannister, the Golden Lion, youngest knight in the realm! The Golden Lion!"
A ripple of gasps and applause spread through the crowd. Luke knew the name well, the boy wonder, the pride of Casterly Rock. Whispers of his legend were rife in Harrentown, as Luke had heard over the days he had spent there.
Then King Aerys emerged from the shadows of his box, a twisted, gleeful smile on his face. It was a smile that made Luke's skin crawl, a far cry from the gentle serenity he'd seen in the Queen. The King raised a hand, and a hush fell over the crowd.
A young man with the unmistakable golden hair of his House Lannister appeared in the elevated box. He seemed no older than six and ten.
Jaime Lannister moved with the easy stride of one born to privilege, yet there was no arrogance in his bearing, only a quiet determination. He knelt before his King, head bowed.
The King's voice rasped out, a chilling but clear for all to hear in the stands "Ser Jaime Lannister, do you swear before the eyes of gods and men, to renounce all claims to lands and titles, to take no wife, father no children, and live and die at your King's command?"
"I swear it," Jaime answered, voice clear and strong.
King Aerys cackled, the sound echoing strangely across the vast tourney grounds. "Then take your vows, be my Knight, my servant closer than your father before you!"
Stepping forward was Lord Commander Hightower, the White Bull, every inch the legendary warrior.
He placed a sword on Jaime's shoulder, his voice a rumble. "In the name of the Warrior I charge you to be brave. In the name of the Father I charge you to be just. In the name of the Mother I charge you to defend the young and innocent. In the name of the Maid I charge you to protect all women."
"I swear it," Jaime answered, voice clear and strong. "From this day, to the end of my days! I swear it!"
The White Bull raised his sword again and touched it to each of Jaime's shoulders. "Arise, Ser Jaime, a knight of the Seven Kingdoms."
As Jaime rose, a roar unlike anything Luke had ever heard erupted from the crowd, a thunderous wave of approval washing over them. Caelum let out a sharp cry, his hands clamping over his ears as his entire body flinched violently.
Shocked, Luke felt his friend twist in his grasp, then with surprising strength, Caelum pushed himself off, landing in a crouch at Luke's feet. Before Luke could react, the smaller boy was already scrambling away, weaving through the crowd with panicked speed. Tears streaked his face, visible even at a distance.
"Caelum! Wait!" Luke yelled, shoving his way through the startled spectators. He vaulted over a low barrier, legs pumping as he sprinted after his friend.
The tourney, the knights, even the Kingsguard...all were forgotten in an instant as worry for Caelum consumed him, as he gave chase after his little brother as he ran away from the stands toward the quiet of Harrentown.
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Meredith forced a smile, clapping politely with the other ladies as the herald's voice boomed forth the news of Jaime Lannister's elevation to the Kingsguard. Her eyes, however, were strained towards the opposite end of the stands, where she'd spotted Luke and Caelum amidst the throngs of commoners.
"When I grow up, I'll be just like him!" Young Garlan Tyrell puffed out his chest, his voice filled with childish bravado. Beside him, Willas nodded sagely, a determined gleam in his eye.
"He must be so brave," Willas added. "Strong too, and true – just like the stories tell!"
The crowd erupted in another roar of cheers, and Meredith felt her heart clench. Across the field, she saw Caelum's small face contort in pain. He covered his ears, his eyes squeezed shut in anguish.
A moment later, he wrenched himself away from Luke and disappeared into the crowd.
Panic surged through her. "My lady," Meredith began, turning towards Lady Alerie Tyrell, her voice strained. "I must...I need... the privy, with all due haste."
Lady Alerie gave a sympathetic smile. "Of course, dear child. Don't worry, the excitement of the day affects us all."
But it was Lady Olenna, whose words snaked out to catch Meredith off-guard. "Such a handsome young man, isn't he? It's not just the privy that calls to a maiden in the face of such chivalry." A knowing smile flickered across her wrinkled face. "I remember that feeling well."
Meredith felt her cheeks flush, but with a hurried curtsy, she slipped away, the Queen of Thorns' laughter echoing uncomfortably behind her. But her misunderstanding helped her leave quicker all the same.
With a final glance across the chaotic stands, Meredith turned and fled.
Each stride took her further from the tourney grounds, the triumphant cheers and booming trumpets fading into a muffled thrum. The road swirled with dust kicked up by her frantic feet, the scent of horses and sweat a harsh contrast to the perfumed air of the Tyrell ladies.
Skirting the massive outer wall of Harrentown, she ran on, the weight of worry a heavy stone in her chest. Ahead, she glimpsed the flicker of Luke's tunic and a flash of his dirty blonde hair, a beacon leading her deeper into the maze of silent houses.
Caelum, a small, panicked blur, moved with surprising speed for one so young.
"Caelum! Wait!" Luke's voice, breathless and sharp, sliced through the quiet. "Please, Caelum!"
The town seemed to hold its breath. Not a dog barked, not a single cry of a child broke the eerie stillness. Harrentown's inhabitants were swallowed whole by the spectacle outside their walls, leaving Meredith feeling strangely alone in this pursuit.
The inn loomed into view – black walls with Tyrell banners beneath House Whents own, indicating the inn was for the servants that served the Tyrell party as they arrived.
She knew this place. She'd visited Luke the day they had arrived, dropping Caelum in his care. He wouldn't be allowed in the castle with the other lordlings present.
It was the best the Tyrells could offer Luke and Caelum, while she and the young lords resided in the relative comfort of the castle.
Her heart hammered as she watched Caelum dart through the open doorway, followed moments later by Luke.
"Caelum! Luke!" she called, following them inside.
The inn was empty too, save for the old innkeeper, who looked to have just been broken out of his slumber.
Ignoring the wide-eyed stare of the startled innkeeper, Meredith dashed up the narrow, creaking stairs, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Luke was already there, pounding on the rough wooden door of their shared room.
"Caelum!" Luke's voice held a desperate edge. "Caelum, open up! Please! tell me what's wrong!"
He turned as she approached, his usual easygoing expression etched with worry. "Meredith? What are you doing here?"
"I saw him run from the stands," she gasped, catching her breath. "Made an excuse... the privy... followed you." Her gaze was laser-focused on the door.
Luke opened his mouth to speak, but Caelum's voice cut through the silence, muffled and thick with tears. "Go away! Just...go away. I'll be fine!"
Meredith's heart twisted in her chest. She knelt, her voice a gentle counterpoint to Luke's urgency. "Caelum, it's Meredith. I'm here too. Please, honey, let us in."
A strangled sob was the only reply.
Then, in a small, trembling voice that filled her with a mix of dread and protectiveness, Caelum spoke, "The world...it's just too big."
Luke's brow furrowed. "What do you mean, Cael? We don't understand."
"The noise," Caelum choked out. "I can hear...everything. Even now, with the door closed. The tourney..." his words dissolved into another broken sob.
A cold wave of shock washed over Meredith and Luke. They exchanged a wide-eyed look.
Steeling herself, Meredith reached for a comforting image, a sliver of the familiar to ground Caelum in this whirlwind of fear. "Caelum," she began, her tone soft but firm, "listen to me. Pretend we're back on your father's farm. It's a quiet summer day, just the way you like it. I'm hiding somewhere, right in the middle of the field. Can you see it?"
She heard him sniffle. "Y-yes. I see it."
"Good. Now, remember our game?" A faint flicker of hope ignited within her. "You have to find me. Don't let the bird songs or the rustle of leaves distract you. Can you hear my voice, Caelum? Just mine? Can you do that for me?"
Silence hung heavy in the air for what felt like an eternity.
Then, the door creaked open, revealing Caelum's tear-streaked face. He launched himself forward, burying his face in Meredith's skirts and hugging Luke and her tightly. His small body trembled as his sobs echoed through the narrow hallway.
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(A/N) Well, that was a good exercise in writing. Speech writing is damned hard.