Alys Rivers watched you in silence from across the room. She didn’t need to read omens in the flames or listen to whispers in the wind to know your journey to the Riverlands had been a disaster. Again. With an almost ethereal grace, she approached and dropped down beside you, her skirts gliding like water over the cold stone.

—"Empty-handed once more?."—She murmured,—"So? What became of your grand mission?."

Your expression alone was enough. Alys sighed, and for once she seemed less mysterious, less pragmatic, straightened up a little to meet your eyes taking a few moments to talk.

—"Perhaps you should try something different… something more diplomatic. Or maybe… something more persuasive."—A smile shot from her lips.—"In the end, it’s your decision… I’m just a simple witch, aren’t I?"

But both of you knew Alys Rivers was much more than that. She name her nickname, as you used to say to her, in the end she didn't know why she bothered to grieve or worry about you. And yet she couldn't help herself.