Salomon Storm was rarely impressed.
It was because of his faith, for he had seen the greatest of miracles happen right before his very eyes and it had opened those eyes to how futile men's influnece was on this earth, and how quickly it would be forgetten once enough time had passed. It was the sad truth, he lived with it's weight, and without no one to share the same sentiment, it was a lone one...
But as he beheld Winterfell for the first time ever in his life, he could not help feeling the unfamiliar intake of awe, for one did not see structures that were as old as eight-thousand years, and said to have been built by help from the Giants and the greatest architect history had ever known, who also happened to be the progenitor of one of the great houses of Westeros, House Stark.
A huge castle, surrounded by two walls that were made from grey granite an ancient weirwood just peeking over the huge battlements, along with two keeps that towered above them both like they didn't need them, although one was much more worse for wear than the other, and also looked to be less impressive, while the other looked as if it still had its best years ahead of it.
They would be entering through the town, aptly named 'Winter Town'. Quite big, although nowhere near King's Landing, and from the looks of it, nowhere near the population of Flea Bottom alone.
He looked down and focused on the two in front of him, looked to be very relaxed now that they had each completed their lecherous activities and seemed to have gone off the hook without any sort of repercussions, he made a mental note to give the two supposed adults a hefty book depicting every verse of the Seven-Pointed Star in painstaking detail, maybe they would learn there was more to life than.
Well... Life.
The Prince was a cyncial person, a sinner, and while it would be very hard at his age for him to understand the warmth in the Light of the Seven, he did not show signs of improving. His dalliances with noble girls were the talk of the court, he was too proud, too uncaring of the people that he classified as 'undeserving of attention' and his eyes glazed over whenever he was scolded about faith by Sal.
And with Arn, it was worse. They encouraged their bad habits whenever they were together, looking at their 'conquests' like it was something to be proud of.
Like now, both were talking about Cedran's most recent adventure.
Warrior grant him strength...
Thankfully, he wouldn't have to but in. As a page in service of the King approached the Prince, bearing orders from the King. Cedran was to ride into the city at the head of the procession with the Crown Prince and his father the King, probably to show off his sons, Sal had heard Lord Stark had two daughters and with King Robert being very good friends with Lord Eddard, one could imagine his intent.
Robert Baratheon wasn't known for his subtlety.
All the court knew what he wanted to do already.
His attention was immediately focused on Cedran as he gestured at him, "Arn, you go and inform my brother, relieve this man of his duties," As was the usual, the King was not fond of the Lannister family, and the bastard mentor was only there because Lord Arryn had appointed him, Arn wouldn't receive a lot of scrutiny by his family (even though he deserved all of it) and Sal wouldn't be pushed in the Queen's face, might offend her grace and prompt her to replace him with somone of higher birth, and higher chance of being a spy...
Arn bowed and left, looking like he would rather do everything but that, Cersei Lannister was quite a picky woman when it came to her childeren's companions, meaning she would rather have her lackies follow them around rather than natural companions and competent protectors, one only needed to look at the state of the Kingsguard when asessing that statement, it had befallen to her to pick their members after 5 of the order had fallen in the rebellion, and if one realized there was really no love lost between the King and the Queen, they would realize who she had picked them for.
Arn may be a politically sound choice when it came to companions, but he didn't belong to her, he didn't belong to anyone really, he was a rogue, bound to the Prince because of the thrill of his companionship and like-minded goals during their youth years. He would have to endure her glares and her subtle suggestions to Cedran about picking his friends.
And Sal...
Well if the Queen saw Sal, she would see him as a bastard, a Stormlander, loyal to the Baratheons, mentored her son, would be able to give him orders in certain situations because he was Sal's ward. He would be better to just sit silent and pray that he gone unnoticed, if he could that is, Cedran needed him, even if he didn't seem to think so...
They silently approached the King on horseback, the once mighty man that had led his man against all odds against the dynasty that had conquered Westeros, now stood as a husk of what he was then. Due to excessive feasting and drinking that hadn't seemed to stop after the rebellion, he'd gotten fat, even growing a beard to hide his second chin. His face often red from drinking, dark circles underneath his eyes, and rode carefully to keep himself balanced on his poor horse, while sweating through his silks profusely even in the chilling weather of the North.
He acted like he was still that man though, joking and laughing along with whatever loyal men that had remained with him, swearing his tounge off and chasing after whores like he was a Hedge Knight in his twenties. A sad sight really, although one really couldn't say it to his face if they wanted to keep their head.
"Father," Cedran called as he rode beside him, Sal standing back and keeping his head down.
"Cedran, you're finally here, thought I'd have to sit here and listen to these fuckin' cunts forever," His voice was gravely, and he seemed joyful, "Where is your damn brother?! Is he still hiding beneath his mother's skirts?" Only Cedran chuckled along with his father, the Kingsguard were stone-faced.
"Sadly so father, I fear the North is too harsh for little Joff," The King guwaffed, and slapped his son on the shoulder, almost spooking his horse if not for the Prince controlling it, "I've sent one of my own to get him,"
"The Bastard?" The King hadn't looked back.
"The Lannister,"
Robert didn't seem very happy, but he nodded, "Aye, would take one of her kind to make her release her hold on the boy, smart thinking lad," One would thing it was quite more complicated than that, although Cedran could do no wrong in his father's eyes.
"Thank you father," Cedran bowed, his voice a little bit more cheerful when he spoke again, "You still haven't told me how Lord Eddard was like,"
"You'll see him soon enough," The King said, "Thou-"
The King cut himself off as he heard a group of galloping sounds behind them, turning around to see his firstborn, flanked by his Hound and Arn at the way back, coming beside Sal as Joffrey approached his father, his usual demeanour lost before the face of his father.
"About time you stopped cowering behind your mother's skirt boy," He growled, making the Crown Prince's eyes go downcast. The King did not thing highly of his firstborn, that much was evident. He mumbled some apology as the column entered Winter Town.
Formations were made, and people looked at them in awe as they passed, some even throwing flowers beneath the ground they traversed. With the King's attention on the women below, Joffrey and Cedran were free to bask in the attention, like it was a competition.
Maybe it was...
Everyone is welcome to post any question they might have in the reviews below.
