Opening notes; Vergil1989; I did a little research today, and found, much to my chagrin and annoyance, that Lucia isn't a Nord, but rather an Imperial. I feel like a complete idiot lol, but for simplicity's sake, I'll probably keep referring to her as a Nord since she IS of Skyrim. That blonde moment aside, the story itself has turned out quite well, and your continued support has made me quite the happy author. I just hope this new chapter lives up to what everyone expects.
As for this opening scene, I actually have a good friend to thank for the general idea. Archer83 made a valid point during one of our writing sessions, and said that words have power. He was dead on, as he usually is, so this opening scene is a nod to his genius. Thanks old friend! For now, enjoy folks!
(For added effect, play Skyrim's main theme, The Song of the Dragonborn, with or without the translation. You'll know when to hit the play button. D)
Three weeks later.
King's Landing
Delphine and Aela returned to King's Landing with Lucia, Vilkas, and an understandably upset Lydia in tow, as well as a number of eager members of her House. They wanted to participate and watch the tournament that was due in a week's time, and they were far from the only ones as countless knights from every corner of the realm filtered into the city. Knights of the Vale, Lannister men from Casterly Rock, the Riverlands, the Reach, the Stormlands, even a few men from the north as far as Winterfell came to attend the festivities. Giselle suspected they were there to see more than the king on his upcoming Nameday though, since word had gotten out that Westeros had visitors.
Everywhere she went, men at arms of all hues and their noble entourages all found excuses to see the strangers from the formerly fabled land of Tamriel. Most of them regarded her with open curiosity rather than the cautious, if not outright terror, she had gotten used to from her time in the capital, especially if J'zargo and Veezara were around. Speaking of the odd pair, Veezara had since gotten a location for Eldria's chosen place of residence while in the city, as well as a number of useful facts that she planned to use against Eldria when she had the chance, but that was for later consideration. Just as the idea of handing Lucia over to Jon Arryn was for another time. Today was for far more important things. Today would be the day the capital heard the voice of the people of Skyrim, and realized that they were there to stay.
Despite their argument, Delphine had ridden out of King's Landing with all speed to find Lucia and bring her back. But unbeknownst to most, Giselle had left specific instructions for the Blade to allow anyone that wanted to follow. When a message came back that most of her House had wanted to come down to the capital to, in Farkas's words, 'show those milk drinkers a thing or two,' she had limited the number to fifty, of which some she knew would no doubt want to compete, while the rest would sit with the rest of the audience. She had eased their disappointment somewhat by allowing them to make their presence known well ahead of the horde that was due to descend on King's Landing any moment now.
They had chosen their timing perfectly since the city streets were lined with commoners and nobles alike, despite the heat from the noonday sun overhead, eagerly awaiting the contenders for this year's tournament. Countless knights and their Lords and Ladies had ridden in already, and while more were due to arrive over the following days, there were one group that everyone was eagerly awaiting. Just when she wondered if her party had been delayed, Giselle's ears perked up when she heard the all too familiar chant of her bannermen as they rode into the city, drowning out everyone else that rode in ahead of them. She couldn't have been prouder to have had them at her side as Vilkas, Farkas, who had rode out ahead that morning to meet his brother at the gate, and Aela led the booming song, while Delphine and the rest followed in the actual words, spoken solely in Dovahzul, the language of the dragons.
Dovahkiin, Dovahkiin, naal ok zin los vahriin,
Wah dein vokul mahfaeraak ahst vaal!
Ahrk fin norok paal graan fod nust hon zindro zaan,
Dovahkiin, fah hin kogaan mu draal!
Huzrah nu, kul do od, wah aan bok lingrah vod,
Ahrk fin tey, boziik fun, do fin gein!
Wo lost fron wah ney dov, ahrk fin reyliik do jul,
Voth aan suleyk wah ronit faal krein
Ahrk fin zul, rok drey kod, nau tol morokei frod,
Rul lot Taazokaan motaad voth kein!
Sahrot Thu'um, med aan tuz, vey zeim hokoron pah,
Ol fin Dovahkiin komeyt ok rein!
They came in wave after wave, men and women of every race, from every corner of Tamriel. Nords from Skyrim, Imperials from Cyrodiil, Redguards from Hammerfell, Argonians from Black Marsh, Khajiit from Elsweyr, all of them and more filtered into the capital atop their horses, dressed in armor and robes that were just as varied as the people themselves. But among these strange beings, several stood out among the rest as Giselle's Dragonguard lead the parade march that would have made General Tullius proud in its flawless execution. She stood out the most, having donned her battle scarred dragonplate for the day's festivities, but she was the Dragonborn, such was expected of her.
She brought her horse in line with Lucia's, the black steed with her red eyes flanked by Lucia's brown coated charger. The Nord's hazel eyes were as wide as saucers at the spectacle before her and the sound of their powerful song behind her. She was the only one not dressed in armor or robes, having worn her best dress for the day's events, but that mattered little at that moment since she rode between her mother and Serana. She was as tall as any of the heroes of her homeland, and Lucia's heart was fit to burst from all of the excitement. The entire city had turned out to meet them as the citizens of King's Landing waved and shouted their cheer, and despite her misgivings, Giselle couldn't have been happier for Lucia as she looked up to the dunmer in awe before trying to add her small voice to their call. The cheers on either side of the stone lined path were drowned out as fifty of House Dovahkiin's forces rode through the city gate behind the dunmer, making their presence known to every corner of the capital.
Dovahkiin, Dovahkiin, naal ok zin los vahriin,
Wah dein vokul mahfaeraak ahst vaal!
Ahrk fin norok paal graan fod nust hon zindro zaan,
Dovahkiin, fah hin kogaan mu draal!
Ahrk fin Kel lost prodah, do ved viing ko fin krah,
Tol fod zeymah win kein meyz fundein!
Alduin, feyn do jun, kruziik vokun staadnau,
Voth aan bahlok wah diivon fin lein!
Nuz aan sul, fent alok, fod fin vul dovah nok,
Fen kos nahlot mahfaeraak ahrk ruz!
Paaz Keizaal fen kos stin nol bein Alduin jot,
Dovahkiin kos fin saviik do muz!
Dovahkiin, Dovahkiin, naal ok zin los vahriin,
Wah dein vokul mahfaeraak ahst vaal!
Ahrk fin norok paal graan fod nust hon zindro zaan
Dovahkiin, fah hin kogaan mu draal!
If the nobility had doubted her commitment before, they certainly didn't now as Skyrim's people outshone even the Lannisters. In an effort to remind those around them they were still around, dozens of Lannister men, who knew the Rains of Castamere by heart, tried to drown out the northerners, but they like everyone else, were shouted down. House Dovahkiin would not be silenced by the proud lion, and the Rains were silenced before the men behind it could gain any momentum.
No one was there to hear the Rains of Castamere that day.
Taking command of the same inn she had been staying at since her arrival to the capital, fifty sons and daughters of Skyrim filled the building of stone. All of the other patrons wisely left and sought other lodgings, leaving the strangers to their loud and boisterous ways. For Giselle, it felt good to be surrounded by her old friends from every corner of Skyrim even if they were in a foreign city, under a foreign sky.
Not everyone was happy for the spectacle the dunmer and her people had put on for the commoners. Cersei Lannister had looked upon the parade march of the strangest assortment of people she still held no love for, with disdain and a measure of terror. She knew a threat when she saw one, and the love and adoration they showered the dark elf with made it clear to the Queen that the Lannisters were in trouble. She would have been far more worried if their leader, Giselle Morgonnis, had been trying to seize the throne, but even she had to admit that so far, there hadn't been so much as a guard bribed according to Lord Varys. Either she was biding her time, or Giselle truly wanted nothing to do with the Iron Throne. Cersei didn't know which terrified her more, the idea that she didn't want anything to do with the throne, or that she was just waiting for the right moment to pounce, and now this latest display of the woman's power had her wondering what Giselle would do next.
Tyrion Lannister and his brother had found the flawlessly executed march and the song to be the high point of the day's events. While Jaime was guarded about his opinion, saying only that he admired the woman's daring for announcing her intentions to every street in the capital, Tyrion had had far more to say on the matter. He had seen from the moment the song started what Giselle had done. She had waited until almost all of the Lords and Ladies of Westeros were already in King's Landing, thus ensuring that everyone's lips held one name and one name alone. House Dovahkiin from the once mythical land of Tamriel, their motto, Heed Our Voice. In one move, she had spread the name and growing legend of her people to every corner of the continent, and Tyrion applauded her brilliance. While it was attention she would later no doubt come to regret, for the moment, no one would dare raise a hand against her and her people, at least not openly.
King Robert Baratheon couldn't help but think of his glory days as the Rebel King, the Usurper, of days that were long behind him as the stirring song woke up something in him he had thought long dead. Going to his balcony window, the man looked down and gave a great booming laugh when he saw what all the noise was about. "Gods I'm starting to fall in love with that woman." He muttered before he shook his head and turned away. If she wanted to make an entrance, he wasn't about to stop her.
Lysa and Jon Arryn had heard the noise from Skyrim's song, and Jon had to smile at Giselle's proud declaration of the people she had been adopted into. It was little wonder she favored them so much, since, like her, they were people of action. They might have made their presence known through mere words, but what words they were! If they sung half as well as they made their way through life, Jon was certain that the realm would be far better off with them standing beside Westeros, not against it. Lysa remained silent, with a barely one year old Robin at her breast, but something in her heart soared as the Dragonborn's song reached its crescendo, and even her sickly child seemed to still for a moment before he returned to fussing and crying softly again. Despite her misgivings of her husband's desire to take another child under their protection, Lysa was more than a little curious to meet this Lucia of Whiterun, from the province of Skyrim after this display.
While everyone was eager to meet these strangers, whether to satisfy their own curiosity or for other, less savory reasons, Giselle had called a closed meeting of the Dark Brotherhood, and had posted guards both at the entrance to the inn and at her bedroom door. Several stood in the same room that she and Serana had shared, dressed like any common member of Skyrim, but one only needed to look at their faces and see the hungry, murderous gleams in their respective gazes to know something was seriously wrong with most of these people.
"A number of people in this city has brought to my attention a serious problem." Giselle began as she swept her gaze across the motley crew of assassins young and old. Babette, Gabriella, Nazir, Veezara, and Mathias, the only Westerosi recruited into the Brotherhood so far, had been asked to attend. She lingered on the blue eyed youth, who didn't meet her gaze, but he nodded his head to show he was on her side. She took the gesture for what it was before she continued. "Some of you might know this already, but the Thalmor survived and have taken up residence somewhere in Westeros." The shouts of refusal and denial she had expected, and she let them die down before saying, "Veezara has gathered a substantial amount of information about their movements so far, but we've yet to find a way to locate their base of operations outside of the capital. That's where you come in."
"Do we have a way in Listener?" Nazir asked, and Giselle nodded her head as she turned to the Redguard.
"I need two volunteers to find, locate, and sneak aboard one of the trading ships that are bound for the Thalmor's base here in Westeros. Veezara has more on what ships are potentially heading in that direction. I cannot stress caution enough my Brothers and Sisters. These are the same elven people that brought an Empire to its knees and almost destroyed Skyrim. They'll be expecting something like this, and if you're caught, you won't have the same allies we have back home."
"So don't get caught, sounds like an easy enough plan to me Sister." Nazir retorted with his customary brand of dry sarcasm. "Otherwise we'll end up stabbed, drowned, drawn, hanged, disemboweled, and quartered. That about sum it up?"
"More or less." Seeing Mathias had turned white as a sheet, Giselle put a hand on his shoulder and offered him a comforting look. "You get used to his humor."
"Right ma'am, Lady Morgonnis...Listener." Mathias replied, uncertain which title was acceptable in this instance.
Before Giselle could tell him to relax, another spoke up. "Are we sure we can trust this one, being so close to his former master?" Gabriella asked before she looked to her fellow dunmer. "I understand a thing or two about loyalty, that it is not easily forgotten, especially if this Spider did half as much for this young child as he claims."
Mathias's blue eyes flared with anger at the open suspicion the dark elf had laid at his feet. "I understand you think I'm a turncoat, a traitor, so that makes you untrusting as it is. Yeah, it's true I threw in my lot with you, but it wasn't because she spared my life." This he accentuated by nodding his head to Giselle, who only raised an eyebrow. "It helped, I'll admit, but I saw what life was like for your people while I was still spying for Varys, and there's….a sense of warmth and companionship I never had on the streets. I might be a part of the Dark Brotherhood now, but my heart belongs to Skyrim. Westeros never had any love for a street urchin like me, even with Lord Varys' seeing to my well being and education. So fuck off Gabriella."
All it took was a look from Giselle to stop the dunmer dead in her tracks before she turned her gaze on Mathias next. "I can relate better than you can imagine Mathias, but trust has to be earned, even among this band of killers and cutthroats." Her gentle chastisement was more effective than any sharp retort from Gabriella or Nazir, and Mathias meekly nodded his head in response. "Now, unless there's anything else, you need to scatter while I play my own part. Good luck, and hail Sithis." The response was instantaneous, even from their newest member as they dispersed to the four winds, save for Babette who couldn't go outside until the sun went down. But with a sewer entrance behind the front desk in the main hall, she had her own exit for when she wanted to explore the city underground at her leisure.
The vampire stayed by Giselle's side for the length of time it took her to head downstairs to the main hall, where the vast majority of her people resided. When they saw her, the cheerful banter and roars of approval reached a crescendo before it tapered off somewhat. Somewhere amidst the hearty slaps to her back and the mugs raised in her name, Babette slipped away from Giselle's side, an all too familiar hungry gleam to her red eyes. She had already given the 'child' the same speech she had given Serana about covering her tracks if she left a corpse behind, and Babette had agreed to be careful. She just hoped it would be enough, but her concern was forgotten when she saw Lydia, Serana, Farkas, Vilkas, and a beaming Lucia sitting by the door.
Serana and Lucia fell in step the moment she reached their side, and with a pointed look from Lydia, Giselle nodded her head to show that she hadn't forgotten she wanted to speak with her as soon as she was able. Now was not the time, not with so many pieces on the board already, and many more yet to be played the closer to the tournament it drew.
So it came as no surprise when Giselle, with her two most valued love ones in tow, that Renly Baratheon and his handpicked knights, one of which was Loras Tyrell, the Knight of Flowers, stopped them on their way to the Tower of the Hand. "Lady Morgonnis, Lady Volkihar, so good to see you both" While Lucia's gaze still held a measure of wonder from everything that had happened that day already, she blushed when the handsome knight with his cape of white roses smiled down at her, while one of the King's own brothers knelt next to her and beamed at her. "And you must be the mysterious Lucia we've heard so much about. Welcome to King's Landing."
"Thank you, m'lord." She managed to squeak out before taking a step back, her smile bashful and shy which Renly found quite amusing.
"No need to be afraid, I'm not as scary as I look." He laughed at his own joke, and Lucia started to relax, losing some of her shyness as Renly stood and dusted himself off before turning to the two women that flanked her. "Going to present her to Lord Arryn I assume? I don't suppose I could make the same offer and you'd accept by any chance would you?" He knew the answer to his own question.
"A little late now, wouldn't you say?" Serana quipped, earning her a slight grimace from the Lord of the Stormlands.
At least he had the good grace to look apologetic. "I admit, I judged you all in haste, and now I seem to be paying for it. I'm sure she'll get bored with the old soldier that is our Hand though."
"The man is a bit of a bore my lord." Loras agreed, but he paled somewhat when he thought he saw something peculiar sticking out of the pale woman's upper lip. It looked like a fang, but when he blinked, it was gone. He shook his head and thought no more of it.
Renly missed the entire thing, his gaze solely on Lucia and Giselle, who had either by some subconscious impulse or not, had put a hand on the girl's shoulder. That simple gesture had Lucia standing tall, her eyes affixed solely on the two men before her. "If it's all the same to you m'lord, I'll make my own opinion of Lord Arryn."
"Well spoken little one." Renly replied, nodding his approval even as he silently cursed his luck for spurning House Dovahkiin when Eldria had incited Lady Morgonnis's rage. Now he couldn't take back his mistake and try to do what their Hand had accomplished. He shrugged it off, and planned to try and find another way to make the people of Skyrim friends to the Stormlands. For the moment though, at some unspoken word between him and Loras, the knight plucked a white rose off of his cape, which Renly took before handing it to Lucia. The girl looked ready to faint away with joy when she hesitantly took the flower. Renly only smiled at the expression on the young girl's face. "A pretty flower, one I hear might be quite fitting given how cold it is in your homeland, Lucia."
"Thank you m'lord." Lucia managed to say as Giselle beamed down at her girl, forgetting for a moment her irritation at the badly hidden attempt to sucker his way back into their good graces. A shared look with Serana, and Giselle saw that she knew what was going on, but they wisely held their scorn in check. This wasn't about them, it was about Lucia, and besides, there was some sincerity in the Baratheon's gaze, so it took some of the sting out of the past slight. Lucia had since tucked the pale white flower behind her right ear, covered partially by her shoulder length brunette hair, and once more she became shy and bashful as Renly and his entourage took their leave. It was only when they had gone that Lucia shook herself out of her stupor and looked up to Giselle and Serana. "Didn't you say he didn't want anything to do with you earlier mama?"
"Yep." Giselle said simply, having since started down the road towards the castle.
"He seemed interested now that I'm here." Lucia said with a note of scorn as she silently considered leaving the white rose on the street.
"Glad that you noticed." Serana quipped, and shot the young girl an amused look when she felt Lucia punch her in the back. "Shall I get you a bucket so you can drool in it when Ser Tyrell comes by again?"
"Serana." Giselle chuckled and shook her head, even as Lucia glared daggers at the vampire. "Even so little wing, you need to be care-"
"I know mama, I heard. There's Thalmor in the capital, and most everyone in the city isn't to be trusted." Lucia replied, again surprising Giselle with just how smart she truly was. "Delphine made it a point to talk about the 'nest of vipers' the whole way here."
"Ah, I see." Giselle nodded her head before she spun on her heel and put a hand on Lucia's shoulder. "But she is right. There's something about the Iron Throne that incites the nobility to try and gain any advantage they can over their neighbors. A friend today might very well be an enemy tomorrow. I don't expect you to understand it now, just be careful who you trust Lucia." Lucia nodded her head solemnly, taking the dunmer's words to heart. She had been betrayed by her family before Giselle took her in. She understood betrayal better than any child ever had a right to, and it both made Giselle proud and heartbroken when she saw the look in her eyes.
She didn't get a chance to dwell on it though when Tyrion, with Jaime at his side, met them at the beginning of the long climb up the Tower's steps. "Greetings mighty House Dovahkiin." Tyrion greeted cheerfully before his gaze fell on the youngest among them. "And well met Lucia of Whiterun. I see you've already been introduced to the far kinder of the King's brothers, judging by the white rose behind your ear. A proper King's Landing welcome if there ever was one."
"Thank you Lord Tyrion, Ser Jaime." Lucia stated with a respectful curtsy, which surprised Tyrion slightly as his eyebrows shot up to his slightly misshapen brow.
"Don't act so surprised dear brother, I suspect our friends here had quite a lot of good things to tell her about you." Jaime said with that customary smug look plastered on his face. His arms were crossed over his chest, but while the smug smirk on his face didn't disappear, it softened somewhat when he looked down at Lucia. "So you're the one all the fuss is about. Your mothers must be quite taken by you if they came in, singing at the top of their lungs."
Giselle tried to ignore the sarcasm that dripped off of Jaime's tongue, and didn't quite succeed as she crossed her own arms and looked down her nose at him. Before she got a chance to snap her boot off in the Kingslayer's backside, verbally speaking, Serana beat her to the punch. "The things people do for love, wouldn't you say?"
It was Tyrion's turn to interrupt Jaime before he could dig himself a bigger hole as he waddled up to Lucia, who already stood taller than he did, and presented a bundle to her that he had been keeping out of sight until then. "Do you like to read child?"
"I do." Lucia replied proudly, and Tyrion's smile widened slightly at the declaration. He always found it the height of his day when he found someone that had an interest in the finer things in life, such as reading, drinking, and whoring, although he realized he was likely biased on those last two.
"Then you might like these. The Complete Songs and Histories of the Seven Kingdoms." The heavy bundle of books Lucia took from the dwarf's arms with a beaming smile, and the infectious cheer had Tyrion matching the gesture. "Whether or not you decide to stay with the Arryns, know that you will always be welcome in King's Landing my dear."
"Sorry, I forgot a present." Jaime said when all eyes fell on him, but he did look down at Lucia's belt, and his eyebrows shot up when he saw the dagger there. It wasn't a wooden one either, but one made of steel he wasn't familiar with. "You allow her to carry a dagger?" He asked, not in scorn, but with sheer curiosity. When Serana and Giselle merely shrugged, Jaime let it go, seeing no point in trying to make sense of their ways.
"Be nice Jaime, from what I hear, Skyrim is quite a bit more dangerous than our fair continent. Why shouldn't the girl go armed and be able to defend herself, should they ever return home?" Tyrion replied, and Jaime found he had no ready answer as they bade the trio good day as Serana, Giselle, and Lucia started up the steps. "So, are we still taking bets from the men on whether or not they leave her here?" Tyrion asked when he was certain they were too far away to hear him.
"I personally don't find it very sporting, but last I checked, we were." Jaime said with a nod.
"Oh good." Tyrion replied cheerfully before he waddled away. He didn't want to be near the Tower of the Hand when Giselle found out about the gambling that he had started. He wasn't sure she'd take it so well.
It wasn't long after that that they stood before the door that led to Jon and Lysa Arryn's chambers. As before, Ser Egen Vardis of the Hand's guard, nodded his head to the trio. "Lady Morgonnis, Lady Volkihar, it's good to see you. Is this your girl Lady Morgonnis?" He asked when he looked down to the girl, her arms wrapped around the Imp's gift. The smile on Giselle's lips was all the man needed in answer. "Some light reading young one?" The knight asked, chuckling warmly when Lucia nodded her head cheerfully. "That's good. Lord Arryn's expecting you all."
"Thank you Ser Vardis." Giselle said as the man opened the door, having grown to like the fellow to some degree since their first meeting. And he wasn't the only one. Over the last few weeks, she had made it a point to talk to Lysa anytime she wasn't busy, tending to her child, and despite her initial misgivings, Lady Arryn wasn't as bad as people had made her out to be. Yes, she was slightly off, but most of it Giselle figured had more to do with her simply holding her baby boy too tightly more than any mental frailty. So when they were allowed in the Hand's chambers, she wasn't surprised to see Lysa, her one year old Robin, and Jon waiting for them. "Lord and Lady Arryn." She said in greeting, before stepping to the side to allow Serana and Lucia in behind her.
"Lady Morgonnis." Jon replied with measured cheer, his weariness from fighting with the King over this tournament all but forgotten after the parade march she had led into King's Landing only an hour earlier. "I didn't think you'd make it here with the way the crowds in the city are clamoring to meet you after that grand performance you led into the heart of the capital." His restraint broke and his small smile blossomed into a full blown grin, which he leveled solely on Lucia a moment later. "You are truly blessed to have her as your mother, Lucia of Whiterun."
"I thank the Nine Divines daily for sending her to me." Lucia replied wholeheartedly as Jon helped clear a space for the bundle in her arms, which she gladly sat down with a grunt. The books had been a welcome gift, but lugging them all the way up to Jon's chambers hadn't been easy.
"I imagine you do Lucia." Jon replied, his warm smile never faltering as he sat down at the large, round oak table. "Do you know why you're here?" He asked gently, in an effort not to frighten or startle her, but he needn't have worried so much.
"I have a good idea." The girl replied slowly, meeting the old man's face with a look that didn't belong on the face of a child. It was one that was both as wise as it was full of old sorrow. Even after hearing how her parents had been killed during the civil war and how her aunt and uncle had thrown her out, a part of Jon had hoped Giselle had overstated things a bit. That part had been thoroughly silenced in that moment as Lucia confirmed what they had talked about. "You want to take me into your home." It was the simplest answer, the safest one since she had a few things she could have said that wouldn't have been considered kind.
Jon noted the flash of anger in the girl's brown eyes and had to bite his tongue when a snort of amusement threatened to escape him at her attempt to keep a civil tongue. She was more Nord than Imperial, and from what Giselle had told him about both races, the Hand of the King found Lucia's spirit a far more welcome sight than any knack for diplomacy as she was trying to use now, even if it was out of courtesy on their first meeting than anything. So, with a subtle look at his wife, who had caught the flash in Lucia's gaze as well and tried to hide her own smirk, Jon leaned forward and attempted to rile the girl into speaking her mind openly. "I prefer honesty over flattery Lucia. Ask anyone that has ever served beside me, who number among my close friends, and they'll tell you the same thing. I prefer blunt words over soft lies any day."
Giselle and Serana both had told Lucia as much, but neither woman could blame the girl for trying to play it safe since she didn't know Jon half as well as they did. Just as the dunmer started to say something to encourage her, Lucia crossed her arms over her chest before falling for Jon's trap. "I'm not stupid. I'm close to eleven years old, and I know what it's like to go hungry and cold and feel betrayed. The other kids in Whiterun would make fun of me for not having a family or a house or anything, and no one wanted a dirty, flea bitten girl in their lives. Except for my new mama, when she actually had a house to live in." Giselle flinched at the reminder, but a hand on the small of her back from the vampire next to her had her relaxing just as quickly.
All the while, Lucia gained momentum. "She was gone all the time, hunting down bandits for the Jarls, stopping the Daedra and the Thalmor, slaying dragons, but she'd always come home and tell me about all of her adventures. She'd bring home presents sometimes; books, a new doll, dresses, and eventually this." Lucia pointed to the dagger on her hip before she continued. "I was just happy to have a mama that cared. It didn't take long before some of her friends started coming by to keep me company and show me how to take care of myself. And while they never said it, I knew it was on the chance mama never came home again. But she always did, and now we're here, and now you want to take me away from her? If I didn't understand why and that she's told me that it would only be for a few years, I'd tell you to rot in Oblivion first."
Jon blinked his hazel eyes twice before he did the last thing Lysa had expected him to do. He leaned his head back and laughed, the sound coming from deep in his belly. When he recovered from his bout of laughter, rich and deep and needed as it was, Jon's smile was wide and warmer than ever. "Right from the mouth of a babe, the truth shall be there plain as day. You truly are a native to Skyrim, aren't you Lucia?" His question had the girl blinking in confusion, having expected him to be angry for her curse at the end of her impassioned speech, but Jon waved her off before she could try and apologize. "I told you, I want honesty between us, and I'd be a fool to try and subdue that warrior spirit that's just starting to shine through. I think you and my squire, Hugh, will get along well. You might even teach him some humility." He finished with a chuckle before growing somber a moment later. "You don't have to answer me today Lucia, or tomorrow, or the day after that. Just meeting you has been an honor my dear girl, but you'd do me an even greater honor if you said yes by the time this whole fiasco of a tournament our Grace, King Robert, has insisted on, is over with."
"You don't approve of the Nameday tournament?" Serana asked, slightly surprised by Jon's statement.
"No, I don't, but let's not talk of it anymore. Gods know I've tried." Jon sighed, but perked up despite himself when he saw the look on Lucia's face. "You've never seen a tournament before have you? You might enjoy yourself quite a bit Lucia. If you'd like, and your mother approves, I could ask to have you and a few of your fellows seated down by the field itself."
"I don't see a problem with it." Giselle said, her smirk turning into a wide smile when Lucia cheered. Despite everything she'd been through, she was still a child at heart.
"Good. Enjoy your stay in King's Landing, Lucia of Skyrim."
"Thank you Lord Arryn." Lucia exclaimed as she collected her books and started towards the door, but stopped just as Giselle opened it for her. "And thank you, for asking I mean. If it had been one of the King's brothers, I might have said no by now."
"I thought I recognized that white rose. I take it you ran into Renly and his Knight of Flowers, Loras Tyrell." Lysa said before Jon could, while Lucia picked at the flower absentmindedly. "Renly Baratheon is a kind if foolish young man. You could do worse than him if you refuse my Lord husband's generous offer." Lucia only nodded, suddenly shy and wanting to get out of there before she said something embarrassing again.
Thankfully, Giselle was there to save her from such an amusing plight as she gently ushered the girl out the door. "Thank you for seeing her on such short notice Lord and Lady Arryn. We'll see you again." With that, the door shut behind her before she, Serana, and Lucia started back down the long staircase. "That turned out better than I thought it would. Did you like them at least Lucia?"
"Yeah, I did. Although I wondered if I might have been….too straightforward." Lucia muttered as her cheeks turned a darker shade of red.
Serana laughed and ruffled the girl's hair. "I don't think you have anything to worry about Lucia. If anything, I think you only convinced him further. We tried to tell you he wanted honesty from the start though."
"There's a difference between honesty and just being rude though." Giselle was quick to gently chastise both of her girls, even if one of them had left her maiden years far behind
"And you cross that line all the time mama." Lucia was quick to point out, much to the dunmer's amused annoyance.
"Have I ever told you that you've got a smart mouth?" Giselle asked, her brown eyes alight with humor.
"Yep." Lucia cheerfully replied.
"Just checking." Giselle replied, her brown eyes twinkling with amusement.
King's Landing docks.
While Giselle had been busy at the Tower of the Hand, Aela found herself standing at the docks once more. She missed home, and while she wasn't half as eager for a fight like Farkas, the Huntress still felt the need to test herself against a worthy opponent from time to time. She had heard of the exploits of the King's Guard, same as most of those in the city, but she hadn't been impressed with the full compliment that had stood before the Iron Throne, as if they were equal to the Dragonguard and their Dovahkiin. No one could match the Harbinger in single or group combat, that much Aela was certain of, especially not the milk drinkers that called themselves knights.
The only one she had given more than a passing look to had been Barristan Selmy, the Commander of their order. The man was old, but he carried himself with a grace that appealed to the honor bound Companion. He didn't lord over his peers, didn't think himself above them in any way, even though he was rumored to be the best swordsman alive, and he was humble about his accomplishments. She had had a few conversations with Selmy since coming to the capital, and all of them had her walking away with a smile on her lips.
Then there were the rest of the King's Guard. Meryn Trant had the look of a man that simply followed orders, and didn't have a mind to call his own. Such a man had no place standing guard to anyone, especially a King who drank and whored his life away. Jaime Lannister was no better in her eyes, with his smug smirk and the cocky arrogance of someone who hadn't fought for anyone but himself. The only redeeming quality he had was that he had slain the Mad King, but even that deed was tarnished by the fact he had waited so long to destroy Aerys. He served as long as serving was safe, and Aela saw no honor and had no respect for him since even his action of murdering the king had served his own interests, mainly the preservation of his own life.
The other members hadn't even crossed Aela's mind since they were all the same in their heavy armor with their blank, stupid faces. They were flatterers but soldiers to the King, and they'd serve loyally, but blindly. Meryn at least had the decency to keep his mouth shut unless addressed.
The Huntress was so lost in her thoughts that she hear the heavy footfalls until they were right on top of her. She spun on her heel, faster than she had a right to, and drew her bow with an arrow already in her hands all in the same movement. The man she leveled the iron tipped arrow at only blinked his eyes and stared down the arrowhead. "Shoot me if you're going to shoot me, otherwise put that damn thing away woman, before I break it into kindling."
"I'd like to see you try Hound." Aela growled, but did as Sandor Clegane had demanded of her before crossing her arms under her chest. She had no problem looking at the hideously scarred and burned flesh on the right side of his face. She had seen far worse.
As for her challenge, Sandor laughed dryly and took a step closer, bringing his height to bear on the red head. She only narrowed her eyes at the not so subtle attempt to intimidate her. "You'd be doing my fucking brother a favor if you managed to get a shot off before I gutted you."
"You'd find me a lot harder to kill than any opponent you've ever faced." Aela grinned, and Sandor narrowed his eyes when he thought he saw her teeth start to change into that of a wolf's, but when he blinked, the elongated teeth had disappeared. "What brings you down to the docks? I thought you were supposed to be with the Prince?"
"That little shit doesn't like me standing around all day, but his mother insists. He insists I piss off, so here I am. I'd rather face the Queen's wrath than listen to him prattle on." Sandor grumbled, his eyes never leaving her tattooed face. "And what of you? I thought you and your dark skinned friend were inseparable?"
"She insists that her Dragonguard doesn't need to be at her side every hour of the day, and has on many occasions encouraged us to make friends, to see the city, meet its people. It has been quite an experience, but I admit I'd rather be fighting than growing fat and lazy from too much good food and drink."
Again, Sandor laughed, but there was an almost cheery sound to it as he crossed his arms over his armored chest. "You're liked a caged beast, eager to go on the hunt aren't you?" He asked, a twisted grin on his burned face that would have made most men piss themselves.
Aela only grinned wider in response as she let her arms fall to her sides and nodded her head. "They don't call me the Huntress for nothing. The craving for glorious battle can only be held off for so long."
"Maybe I'll see you in the melee then." Sandor said before he walked away. Aela found herself looking forward to the festivities for the first time since hearing about the affair as she watched the Hound leave the docks.
The Main Hall.
The Iron Throne, and the hall itself with its stone pillars, was empty. It wasn't the first time she had seen the hall empty, but Delphine always found it slightly eerie to see it devoid of activity. The Jarls never left their castles or long house audience chambers unattended for long, but here, she had seen that the King and his so called advisors left things unfinished all the time. The plight of the common man went unheard, while the Lords and Ladies that called themselves nobility were at least given an audience on most occasions. The only exception to this rule that the powerful were catered to without question or hesitation was Jon Arryn. He had made it a point to address both the commoner and the nobility in equal measure, but it hadn't taken the Blade long to notice he favored the people over their lords. He truly was a man of the people, and that much at least made her opinion on his request to foster Lucia less harsh, if only slightly.
Delphine looked around, her feet carrying her forward, ever closer to the Iron Throne and its thousand blades. She had counted a little closer to two hundred and sixty, give or take ten blades. She was sure someone had counted them all and had the number written down somewhere, but that was a distant thought as she ascended the steps that led up to the throne itself. It didn't look like a comfortable chair at all, but she supposed that was the point. Power wasn't supposed to be comfortable. Anyone who sat on that chair would never find a moment of peace, and that at least met her approval as she ran a gauntlet covered hand over the right armrest. She felt the dozens of sword points tugging at the leather underside to her gauntlet, and wasn't surprised that there were a number of small cuts in the tough hide. "Still sharp." Delphine noted idly as she cast her gaze over the hall again. What she was about to do would likely lose her her head if someone caught her.
Taking a breath, Delphine sat down on the Iron Throne and looked down the hall. It was just as uncomfortable as it looked, but she forced herself to lean back and put her hands on the armrests. She wanted to know every sharp edge, to remind herself that they were in a foreign land, fighting to hold it together even as the people on the continent were hell bent to tear it all apart with all of their petty squabbling over the very chair she was sitting in.
"Do you like the Throne, Captain Delphine?" The Blade jumped to her feet when Cersei Lannister seemed to materialize out of thin air. The smug look on her face made Delphine forget her surprise as it was replaced by an urge to knock the Queen's teeth. The urge became that much more difficult to contain when the woman took a step closer, and sneered up into her face. "I could have you executed for this, for taking the seat that is my husband's by right of blood and deed, but I'm not that petty or prone to rash actions. Besides, I can't blame you for sitting down, just to see what real power feels like."
"That chair is only a symbol. While the power behind it is not to be underestimated, it's still just a piece of furniture. It only has meaning because the people give it meaning. Just as the crown is only a symbol of your supposed right to rule."
"Power is power, no matter the form it might take. I could have you killed and no one would question my decision because my power is not questioned by the loyal people of this land." Cersei retorted, her smirk turning into a blade thin smile at the challenge to her authority.
"Blind loyalty can be just as dangerous as disobedience, or rebellion." Delphine countered as she glared daggers, her frown only deepening as she towered over the queen. She wasn't so easily cowed, but it didn't bother the Blade. "As for having me killed, far worse opponents have tried and failed. I've survived several assassination attempts, multiple run ins with bandits, and worse over the course of my life. I sleep lightly, your Grace, so if you plan to make a move against me or anyone else under my protection, be sure you don't leave me alive, because you won't like my answer."
"You dare threaten me?" Cersei glared right back into Delphine's eyes, not easily shaken, "I'm your Queen, not a common whore who thinks herself a man's equal."
"I dare threaten a woman who thinks herself above everyone simply because of who her family is and her current station. Your crown is only a piece of jewelry, and you bleed like everyone else. You'd be wise to remember that, your Grace." Delphine had been nose to nose with Cersei by the time she had finished speaking, but Cersei stood there, unmoving.
A few tense seconds passed until Cersei gave a small chuckle, and said, "You think yourself powerful now, untouchable, but so did the Reynes-"
"Spare me the story of your father destroying House Reyne, I've heard it before. We aren't arrogant, we don't believe ourselves greater than anyone. But you threaten House Dovahkiin at your own risk, because we aren't without our own powerful allies, or our own means to destroy anyone foolish enough to try." Delphine retorted as she walked away, leaving the Queen to glare cold fury at the Blade's back as she left the main hall. She knew she had made a dangerous enemy who had the sheer numbers to destroy House Dovahkiin many times over, but they had no magical support, no knowledge beyond the little parlor tricks J'zargo had been showing the locals. Besides, if Azura's Star was able to do what she thought it could, they would have one advantage no amount of men on the ground could hope to counter. For now, Delphine made plans to prepare for any underhanded trick the Lannister woman might think up. She hadn't survived Thalmor execution squads by being reckless.
Flea Bottom.
J'zargo didn't like the looks the slum dwellers were giving him, but his old Nord friend, Onmund, and Adrianna Avanenici, had insisted on cutting through a short cut that had wound them up in the worst part of the capital. Now they were lost, and there wasn't a guard in sight. While he wasn't afraid exactly, the Khajiit didn't want to have to defend themselves if someone tried to rob them, kill them, or both. "Why does J'zargo get the feeling they're just waiting for us to let our guard down? We need to get out of here."
"Cool your paws J'zargo. We'll be alright, we're mages from the College. And I'm sure our blacksmith friend can handle herself." Onmund replied cheerfully, but Adrianna and J'zargo both saw how he tightened his hold on his staff, which he was using as a makeshift walking stick. There would be no delay in him putting it to use if the need arose since it was already in his hand, another fact they noted despite his easy cheer.
"You both should have taken up Morgonnis' offer to train in the use of something other than those sticks." Adrianna grumbled as her hand fell to the heavy mace on her hip, made of skyforge steel. She had crafted the weapon herself, and it had yet to fail her. The first person that tried to lift her coin purse found his hand crushed in her tanned, heavily calloused hand, while the knife he had used to cut the string tied to her belt clattered to the stone at her feet. "Get a move on, unless you want to lose your other hand, boy." The would be thief took off running, leaving his knife and his pride behind.
"You're a real people person aren't you." J'zargo stated, rolling his eyes at the grunt Adrianna threw his way as they turned a corner. He breathed a little easier as they turned down a street that looked halfway maintained, the houses on either side looking in somewhat good shape compared to the ones they had just left behind.
"After dealing with my fop for a father and the defunct officials that surrounded the Jarl on a daily basis, you would have left what charm you had behind as well." The Redguard retorted, her eyes falling on a group of young children as they ran and cheered around a nearby stone well. Despite the poverty around them, they were at least happy. She almost envied them their innocence. "But it wasn't all bad." Adrianna said after observing the children for a few moments before turning to her two companions. "My father at least had the wisdom to defer to my good judgment, even if the Jarl never knew it."
"You were the brains behind the advisor eh?" Onmund asked, and earned a nod from the blacksmith. "Wonder how he's faring without you?"
"Considering I told the Jarl the truth before we left and that my father was forced to leave his posting as his 'advisor', I think Jarl Balgruuf is doing just fine without him. 'Nord nonsense'." Adrianna spat out, "Giselle told me what he said shortly after she returned from High Hrothgar her first trip, and I almost marched into Dragon Reach then and there. I might be a Redguard, but Skyrim is just as much my home as it is hers. I kept it to myself, but I made sure the truth came out just as we were leaving. Now there's someone actually worth his salt sitting beside Balgruuf."
"Why disgrace your own father though? That's the part I don't get." Onmund asked, puzzled about Adrianna's decision.
"Because Onmund, there's no excuse for not knowing the people you're supposed to be advising. Their beliefs, their traditions, and the fact I turned such a blind eye to his ice brain behavior makes me just as guilty, even if I offered the advice he used while in court. You can't cure stupidity, no matter how good the advice is." Adrianna sighed, and almost walked into a surprisingly tall and well built young boy with the palest blue eyes she had ever seen. "Pardon me."
"It's quite alright miss." The youth said as he took a step back when his gaze fell on J'zargo. "You're one of the folk from Skyrim?"
"We all are." J'zargo replied with a nod of his head.
"Then you best get out of Flea Bottom while you can. Someone might turn you into a rug." The young boy, who couldn't have been older than maybe thirteen, fourteen tops, said as he dusted his hands on his dirty white tunic. His words weren't a threat, just a friendly bit of advice that the Khajiit took to heart.
His two companions weren't so eager to run with their tails between their legs however. Adrianna stopped the boy from running off with a hand on his shoulder. "Who are you?" Something about the boy had intrigued her, and his short, direct answer even as he avoided her intense gaze only intrigued her more.
"Gendry."
End Notes; Vergil1989; While I'm not thrilled by how a couple of sections turned out, it was what my muse wanted and I couldn't find a way to make them seem….I don't know, more fitting I guess. The whole thing with Renly and Cersei later on just seems bleh, but I couldn't convince my muse otherwise lol. She is about as stubborn as any northerner. In all seriousness though, next chapter things heat up. Enjoy the show folks, it'll be one to remember.
Real quick before I forget, I want to thank Archer83 and Doctor Eagle for their continued support on this. Thanks guys! Anyway, see ya!