the dead are gone
She’s actually a little pleased when it’s Lagertha that finds her. She’d been intending on finding the Khaleesi for her actions during the battle, for preventing her from causing major damage, but she hadn’t been able to bring herself to do so yet. Even now the words are reluctant to come out and she lets the Khaleesi’s greeting and questions distract her. Of course, the questions aren’t really easier to answer either.
“I’m … alright.” True, though that barely scrapes the surface. Guilt ridden, grieving and ashamed would perhaps be more descriptive, but Lagertha doesn’t need to know the details. She’s no doubt feeling some of the same, grief wise at least, given that she’d known Lyris for longer than Lexa has been alive. “And Larken, well, Larken takes after our mother.” Even more so after returning from the dead. “She’ll be fine.” More than fine, she has no doubt. Larken has spent every day since her resurrection practicing with her newfound abilities and waltzing about the Jungle as if nothing has changed. Lexa wonders sometimes if their mother’s death has even affected her (though really deep inside she knows that Larken is just as heartbroken as she is).
But she can’t keep brushing away what she really wants to say, the reason she’d been thinking of seeking Lagertha out. “I … I just want to say thank you Khaleesi. For stopping me during the battle. I lost control and …” She doesn’t want to think about what could have happened. “I won’t lose control again.”
and the living are hungry.
lexa.