( Cletus POV )
Cletus felt the sea tickle his feet, the slow tide coming in and burying them in the sand, feeling each grain pass between the cracks of his toes. Warm water hurried up to his ankles, before retreating again. It was late afternoon, but the sun was slowly fading across the horizon, making the usually blue sky take on a darker tone.
The waves kept coming in, one after the other, slowly advancing and retreating. Some barely tickled his feet, others crashed as high as his knees. The Narrow Sea was clearly more turbulent here than around Yronwood, but the pristine waters of the palace's private beach made it a beautiful sight to behold nonetheless.
"I fear there isn't much of a view." A familiar voice came behind him.
"Don't you have better things to do?" Cletus sighed.
"Not really." Quentyn came next to him, placing his bare feet into the water, next to him. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing." Cletus snapped his head towards his friend.
"Clearly." Quentyn scoffed back. "You've been acting strange for a while, Cletus. I thought that it was only because we were out of Dorne, and you missed Yronwood. I thought sending you home would be nice and you'd come back with the usual snarky attitude, but no. So, I'll ask again: what's wrong?"
"Nothing!" Cletus snapped at Quentyn, tightening his fists. "I don't need you to tell me that something is wrong with me! Go away and fuck your cousin like the whore she is and leave…"
Quentyn's fist hit Cletus' face faster than he could comprehend. Suddenly, he was tumbling down, and crashed into the water, soaking his cloak and shirt.
"Don't call Nym that ever again, do you understand?" a voice filled with dread called out, while Cletus was trying his best not to ingest seawater as he struggled to get back up.
Instinctively, he tried to respond with a punch of his own, but a great burst of shame suddenly crept through him.
"I…" Cletus stammered, another wave passing over him, slamming into his cheek as if to hit him again. "I'm sorry…I don't know what happened there…"
Quentyn frowned above him, not giving him his arm to help him back up. Quite shamefully, Cletus had to slowly find his footing, his clothes soaking with water and sand, to get back up.
"Listen, Quent. I don't know what's been happening." Cletus finally admitted. "I've had recurring nightmares ever since Starfall, almost three years ago now. And once these were gone, I don't know…"
Cletus tried to conjure up an explanation, but the truth was that…he had none. He didn't exactly know what was happening. Perhaps it was everyone taking on responsibilities. Gerris was married with a child, Quentyn was basically Dorne's leader and had a child of his own, while he delegated Sunspear to Gulian. Arch was becoming the fiercest warrior in the realm…but him?
Cletus Yronwood, it was if as nothing had changed. Yet, all the while, his friends had grown up around him.
"I don't think I've changed." Cletus finally sighed. "I think you all have, and that I've been left behind."
"You know you haven't, Cletus." Quentyn raised an eyebrow at that. "You're still an essential part of our group. Admittedly, some of your jokes are of poor tastes, but we've long known to live with them."
Cletus let out a small chuckle, retreating from the water and onto the sand, slowly sitting down while taking off the clothes that had been ruined with seawater.
"I didn't mean that." Cletus sighed. "It's as if you've all grown…you know. You and Gerris have a child, Gulian has a wife, Arch and Ned are quickly becoming warriors in their own right…but me?"
Quentyn's eyes narrowed as if he finally understood where Cletus was getting at, and made to sit down next to him.
"I…" Cletus continued. "I feel like I've not grown a single bit. Yes, you might tell me that I am the heir to Yronwood, but…I don't feel like it. I feel like an idiot running in circles while my friends achieve higher goals. I feel alone."
"You're not alone, you have us." Quentyn clasped his shoulder. "You know that you can trust us to do something together if you want to. We can play cards, go hunting…"
"I don't think you realize, Quentyn. I feel alone."
Realisation suddenly dawned on his friend's face, followed by a look of confusion.
"You…are telling me…that you feel alone?"
"Listen, I am not worried about conquering another maiden." Cletus sighed once more. "That's easy. I just want…what you all have. Gerris has Elinor, Gulian has his paramour, Arch found a lovely girl too, and Ned and Gwyneth have been getting along well, and you have…yours. I have no one, Quent."
"I see." Quentyn nodded. "But you know you are still young, right? Your father probably won't arrange a betrothal for some time. The Dornish tradition usually makes marriages occur around five-and-twenty rather than younger ages."
"It's not marriage I fear." Cletus shook his head. "Yronwood is a worthy prize enough that my father may arrange a decent match. I just want what you have…"
"I…understand." Quentyn nodded. "But, perhaps you haven't looked far enough? Or perhaps you could not have stumbled across her yet? I got lucky with Nym, but it took time for me to actually know her. Have you spent more than one night with a girl?"
Cletus shook his head.
"Perhaps you ought to. Or perhaps you ought to know more about them before you think about bringing them to your bed." Quentyn sighed. "I cannot promise that it will work. But I can promise that you will have a much better chance of finding someone that understands you if you start to talk to them."
Quentyn stood up and patted him on the back.
"I'm sure you'll find someone too, friend." He said. "If not here, perhaps in the capital. Who knows? There might be a Reacher or a Westerlander girl that may steal your heart."
Cletus scoffed.
"I think there's a higher chance of the dead coming back to life."
"Be careful what you wish for…" Quentyn's voice darkened before he slowly walked away.
"Where are you going?" Cletus asked.
"The Gardens," Quentyn replied. "I need to see if Aliandra is taking a liking to Ellaria, and I have to see if I keep her there with her aunts or if I bring her back to Sunspear. I need to have finished before we set sail."
"And when is that?" Cletus asked.
"Three days." Quentyn quickly replied. "And go take a bath, Cletus, you stink of salt and seaweed."
Three days…Cletus thought to himself.
The world was moving fast. In three days, he would be aboard a ship heading towards the capital…but he would be damned if he let the world leave him behind.
He needed to start growing.
Be careful, King's Landing, Cletus Yronwood is coming for you. And he has no intention of playing second fiddle this time around.
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