A Song of Frost & Flame

by Chimaera1201

When Robert's Rebellion broke out, the ancient friend and ally of the Starks, House Tormont offered their oldest daughter to the Lords of the Corridor for their alliance. Powerful and respected, the Taugere family kept the way north safe and at peace for thousands of years. But a less known prophecy may declare if the world will freeze over again, or burn in the fires.

7. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7 – THE FESTIVAL

After completing their respite in the barracks, the attention of the castle citizens and those of the nearby town in Garde's Post went to the preparation of the Horn Festival, an annual celebration to connect the people of the countryside. The stretch of land around the settlement, and much of the expanse between the village and Mount Ardor was prepared for the merriment and many farmers and merchants erected their edifices and tents. The sun set low over the horizon as castle hands prepared for the evening, and Gavin approached Berin where he warmed himself in front of the hearth.

"Some of us are heading out to the tavern at Garde's Post. Do you want to join us?" he asked cheerfully.

"Sure, why not. We've been holed up in here for three days." he agreed, and followed the others into the Hall of Fire. He looked up to see Falgon with lady Claira; he'd retaken his place at her side early this morning. He waved at him for his attention.

"Some of us are heading out, if you want to join us." he informed. Falgon turned back to Claira.

"Go, take the night for yourself. I'm sure you're frustrated with these walls." she allowed, and he bowed to her.

"As soon as I have delivered you safely to your lord husband." he said, and she smiled.

"Go, Falgon. I'll be fine." she insisted, but he took a step forward.

"My place is at your side, I will not excuse my duties for an extra horn in the tavern." he said, and proceeded to escort her to the lord's wing, and only left after she had closed the door behind her. He returned to the Hall of Fire where the others awaited him, from where they made their way from the hold to the village tavern, registering the many structures along the way.

"It seems like we'll have a larger festival than usual, this year. We can expect quite a few disturbances, I suppose." Gavin mentioned as he looked around.

"Let's hope that the guard is sufficient." Berin added as they walked. A wide cobblestone pathway entered into an immense circled town centre with a well in the heart of the expanse, wooden structures were set up around it where merchants sold their wares during the day. A long stable set to the left side of the road to accommodate the townspeople's horses, a forge stood next to the stable where a smith was still hammering away at a new horseshoe. Far behind the stable, a vast enclosure held flocks of sheep and cattle herds. Buildings lined the edge of the town centre, to the right smoke rose from the chimney of the first building, and the sweet scent of freshly baked bread floated through the air. Barrels stood against the walls of the second building to the right, awaiting their journey to the many taverns, or the festival tenders. A board hung above the door of the third building, displaying grapes above a green chalice. The building next to that was evidently a carpenter's workshop, judging by the wooden logs stacked next to the left wall and the newly made wagon wheels being rolled out before another path led out of the village between more buildings, two brown dogs chased after a grey cat in front of the guard's office only just visible around the bend. An alchemist's outlet stood to its left. A small high towered sept stood looming over the centre of the town, flanked by an infirmary to its right and an orphanage to its left, next to another road leading out of the settlement. Animal hides were stretched out over racks in front of a tanner's shop on the next corner, and another sign shaped in the form of a scale hung above the door of the building to its left indicating the home of a general merchant. They approached a large building, a board above the doors displaying the name in dark-wood: The Greasy Hawks. Falgon looked at the words. Really? I can't believe people come here... Berin turned back to him.

"What's wrong?" he asked, and Falgon's attention went to him.

"Captivating name, for such an establishment." then moved forward, seeing his friend smile.

"I know, right." They entered into a lively atmosphere, candles and firelight chasing the shadows away. Men and women sat at tables laughing and conversing on their activities of the day, tavern women moved up and down the stretch of the tavern with horns and trays in their hands, and a robust inn keeper with a bald head and full red beard in a stained shirt, and white apron stood behind the counter wiping horns for use. Barrels were stacked under a stairway behind the bar leading to an upper level, and more shelves with bottles lined the wall behind he inn keeper. Several girls stood at the bottom of the staircase, focused on the new arrivals. The inn keeper looked up at them, and waved merrily at them.

"Welcome, milords! Settle in, have a horn, have a whore!" he called to them, indicating the barrels behind him, and the surface above him. Gavin threw his arms around Berin and Falgon's shoulders.

"How about both, my good man!" he returned, and Berin and Falgon glanced at each other before Berin returned his attention to the inn keeper.

"We'll settle for the horn, my friend." he said, and Gavin looked at him.

"Your wedding is in a few days, you won't have this chance again." he mentioned, and Berin removed his arm from around his neck.

"I don't want any chance, thank you." he declined, and then Gavin's eyes went to Falgon.

"And how about you? What's your excuse?" he asked, and Falgon slipped from his grasp.

"I'm not partial to the exchange." he said, and Gavin frowned.

"Oh, you're no fun." Edur, the other guard that accompanied them and yet another member of the sentinels put a hand on Gavin's shoulder.

"Come, leave the old men. They'll just kill our night." he urged, and they left to claim their prizes. Berin and Falgon settled at a table close to the fireplace against the far wall. A tavern server brought two horns of ale and set it down on the table.

"Enjoy, milords. May I interest you in a plate?" she smiled. Berin's hand went around the horn.

"White cheese, and a heel of bread." he looked over to Falgon.

"What will you have?" Falgon brought the horn to his lips.

"Nothing for me, thank you." he declined, and swallowed a mouthful of ale. The server left to fetch the food. They glimpsed Gavin heading up the stairway with his arm around a girl in a soft pink, nearly transparent gown. The night proceeded rather pleasantly as they shared their lives.

"Mount Ardor is the only true home I've ever known. I never had the chance to know my father, he died when I was three. On the insistence of others, my mother married again; a man with two sons older than me. For a time I accepted him as my father, I wanted to have that figure in my life; but as time went on I realized it was only the daydream of a naïve mind. He treated my mother as little more than a maid. He took over our hold, and replaced my father's banners with his own and his own sons were always favoured. I couldn't stand the man, and he did not attempt to hide his disdain for me. There was no love, perhaps just a little bit more than common decency… I believe I may have been seven the year my mother's husband saw fit to attend the Horn Festival. I befriended the liege lord's son with the luck of the gods, and lord Rychard offered to take me as his ward, and I grew up with Raeghun and his sisters. To each other, we were the brothers we never had. We made a pact when we entered our tenth years, that we would share our first experiences together; from our first kill to our first kiss. I joined the guard at ten and five, and became a sentinel at ten and nine, and then I met my Milla. I've had blissful years here. How about you?" Berin told, and Falgon smiled.

"I've had a typical childhood, with two younger brothers, Draune and Haelgon and baby sisters, Valla and Rella. While my father loved us, he was a hard man. Strength was everything to him, if you couldn't be strong, you couldn't protect your family; and ours wasn't exactly small. One day, my brothers and I went hunting in the woodland, and one of them got hurt. My father beat me senseless." he recalled. Berin looked at him, tilting his head.

"Why would he do that? Accidents happen." he said.

"Not like this one; I was the eldest at ten and four, Draune had just entered his tenth year and Haelgon was just about to turn nine. I was supposed to watch over them, and I didn't. It was one late afternoon, and I wanted them to work on their archery, so we went after a deer. I had Draune hide in the brush while Haelgon and I directed the deer towards him. Initially, we were supposed to avoid the open areas, but you can't anticipate everything. Draune released the arrow too soon, and instead of the deer's chest, it impaled Haelgon's left arm. I was lucky he didn't completely lose the use of that arm, my father would have killed me then." he said.

"Was it your father that taught you how to use a sword?" Berin asked.

"It was. He was an accomplished warrior." Falgon said, hearing his father's voice in his head. The sword, is not just the blade! Do you think the tip is the only dangerous part?! The cross guard is there for a reason, use it!

"He would have huge logs tied to tree branches, and we would have to practice while other people swung them at us. I definitely received my count of blows from that." he further explained, and Berin nodded.

"That is an interesting method." Falgon brought the horn to his mouth again.

"It increases your acuity of the expanse and activities around you. You need to be aware of your surroundings." he said before emptying the horn. Your enemies are not going to stand and stare at you! Whether it's one or thirty, they all want you dead!

"He taught you well, Falgon." Berin complimented.

"I believe he did, too. It brought me far, and saved my hide many times." A woman approached with two girls following in light garments.

"Well, well; look here my bunnies. If it ain't the finest of the sentinels, young lord Berin and his new friend gracin' us with their desirable company." she said smiling, and then leaned slightly on the table, revealing more skin.

"How about it, milords? Feel like tasting my girls' sweet fruits?" she tempted, and Berin leaned back.

"I have a whole garden waiting for me. But perhaps my friend here will consent." he said, glancing at Falgon.

"Oh, no thank you. I'm sated." he declined, then one of the girls winked at him.

"Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find us." she offered, and they left them. Falgon sighed, and glanced at the sentinel at his side.

"You're well known here." he noted, and Berin laughed.

"A lot of people are well known here, they come here often for the pleasures it offers. When lord Raeghun and I came here, the only thing we enjoyed was the ale. It was simply to escape the walls of the burning mountain, nothing else." he clarified, and Falgon nodded.

"I see. That is something I've heard on very rare occasions. You were the better men." he said, and a server passed to refill the horn. After thanking her, he brought the horn to his lips while Berin stared at him.

"I haven't seen you with anyone, except for lady Claira, of course." he mentioned, and Falgon chuckled.

"Let's just say they don't fall within my preferences." he said as he lowered the horn to the table, and Berin grinned as he brought the horn in his hand to his mouth.

"Saving yourself for someone, eh?" he teased, and a short pause followed as he swallowed; but Falgon did not look at him.

"No, I don't think so. I just don't have those urges, any more." he said.

"So, what was your first?" he asked, changing the subject.

"My first?" he seemed confused for a moment.

"Experience. You mentioned a pact that you and our lord made as youngsters." Falgon directed.

"Oh, yes that. My first kill was at ten and five, it was a horse thief that escaped the vaults, I was the first to catch up with him. Obviously, he wasn't willing to go back to the cells, so he drew his dagger on me. He took me down, of course. But at some point my sword found his stomach. Lord Raeghun's was a lion." he told.

"A lion?" he asked, intrigued; and Berin chuckled before swallowing another mouthful of ale.

"When it wants to kill you, it counts. More to the point, the lord was unarmed. He killed it with his bare hands, it puts a new meaning to 'tooth and nail'. He somehow managed to take hold of the beast's jaws, and ripped it open, as far as the throat. Some have said that it was The Warrior himself that entered Raeghun's body that day, and lent him his strength…" his mind went back to that day. He heard the roar, the cry and the neigh of a panicked horse. When he looked back, the great beast had his best friend pinned to the ground with his arms raised in defence, paws the size of his chest inhibiting his movement, and clawing at him, tearing skin with clothing while the jaws searched for an opening to the throat; a thick black bristly mane and protruding ribs etched into his memory. More screams filled the air around him, and he drew his sword as he put his heels to his horse. Terror fuelled him as blood soaked the earth, the clearest voice echoing in his mind: Don't! You'll hit my son! He didn't know who the command was meant for, the archers or him. But he was intent on killing the creature. The jaws opened, and as it moved forward to close over the young lord's face his hands gripped the jaws, fingers locking between the incisors and canines; and with a cry as loud as the lion's frightening roar he pulled, forcing the jaws apart and ripping skin as far as the throat. The animal gagged, and then fell limp onto him; its body covering his entirely. He leapt from his horse then, casting the sword aside as he ran, then fell to his knees and pushed the carcass of the emaciated creature over, revealing the young man he accepted as his brother, severely bleeding and utterly weak. He looked up at Falgon, dismissing the thoughts.

"And yours?" he asked.

"I was forced into the role of a man rather young. But that was the choice that was given to me, kill or be killed. I elected to live, and my father placed greater responsibilities on me since that day. I think I was ten and one, perhaps two. It's the price we pay for being born as men, I suppose." Falgon said, remembering some of the events. His father took them into the wilderness for training, and it was late at night. He was half asleep in one of the tents, and a man he knew entered, gripping a sword in his hand. Only one question kept sounding in his mind. Why?

"What happened?" Berin asked, bringing the horn to his mouth again.

"I don't remember, exactly. It was a long time ago." Falgon said, dismissing it and the memory faded to a foggy grey.

"It's a high price, but some are happier to pay it than others." Berin said replacing the horn on the table.

"That they are, my friend." Falgon said smiling, and Berin stretched.

"And who was the girl that shared your first kiss?" Berin asked, and Falgon looked at the roofing.

"A beautiful girl, with dark hair and green eyes. She was everything to me; another moon and I would have asked her to marry me. Her name was Ayla." the memory of her face was the clearest.

"Why didn't you?" Berin asked as a tavern woman came to refill their horns.

"Destiny had other plans for me, apparently. It happens when we think we are in control of our lives. Who was your first?" Falgon ran a finger along the edge of the horn before bringing it to his mouth.

"One of lord Violet's pretty daughters. Raeghun was the first to taste a lady's sweet lips, though; and of course, I followed. The vassal lord was here as counsel to lord Rychard on taxing matters, and his lovely daughters accompanied him. We ended up spending some days together." Berin said, and drank from the horn again, and Falgon chuckled.

"How nice, the young lords escorting the ladies about the castle, showing them the long halls, the ballrooms, the stables, the gardens… I take they weren't interested in the dungeons?" Falgon teased, and Berin shared his laugh.

"That they weren't." he agreed, Falgon sat forward slightly. Berin watched him, trying to make sense of the man next to him. So much of him was shrouded in mystery.

"Why did you leave your home?" he asked softly.

"I left because I had to…" Then his attention returned to him.

"You're excited for your wedding?" he guided, and Berin smiled again broadly.

"Oh yes, very. I can hardly believe it's only a few days away. Which reminds me, lord Raeghun's name day will be upon us within a fortnight as well, he'll see his twenty and first year." Berin reminded, and Falgon nodded making a mental note.

"Such an event, will call for much attention. And yours, too; is not far off." he said looking at his friend for confirmation.

"Not for another few moons, though. It will be interesting to see, what the next year holds for us." he said, scanning the tavern. His attention went to a group at the other side of the tavern where Gavin and Edur were involved in a game of knuckle bones. Their opponents seemed riled.

"Oh, fuck. Not tonight, please." he breathed as he stood up and made his way to them. He could make out that they were arguing as he came closer.

"I didn't cheat, your eyes are at the back of your skull." Edur defended.

"Of course you did!" Berin raised his hands between them.

"What in the hells is going on here?" he asked, and the man turned to him.

"These two with you?" he demanded, and Berin dropped his hands.

"Yes, they are. Why?" he said, and then the man pointed at them again, clearly intoxicated.

"They are cheating!" he again accused, and Berin glanced at the table.

"With such a simple game, there's no way you can cheat." he decided, and the man stepped closer.

"You calling me a liar? I'll have your teeth on a wristband." he threatened, but Berin remained where he was.

"Back off." he warned. There was a moment of silence as the two men determined their odds.

"You think because you're the lord's finest; the rules of the common world don't apply to you, eh? You're just like any other man in this shack." the man said, stepping even closer.

"That I am. Difference is, I don't go accusing people of shit when I grow desperate." he said, and the man's teeth bared in rage.

"Berin, I believe we've had quite enough for one night. It may be time to leave." The man's eyes shot over Berin's right shoulder, at the tall figure behind him. Berin nodded, agreeing that Falgon had the correct notion. He looked at the other two.

"Let's go." he ordered, and they reluctantly stood, giving a handful of coppers to the tavern server passing by. The man who had accused Edur of cheating blocked their way.

"You're not going anywhere. First you cheat, and then you flee. What kind of men are you?" he said.

"Men who don't have time for your bullshit." Berin moved to pass him, and the man suddenly threw a fist towards his face. He ducked out of the way easily, and as he came back up retaliated with his right elbow into the man's jaw sending him backwards. Another of the men wrapped his arms around Falgon's shoulders from behind in a strong hold, he bent his knees reaching back and taking hold of the man's tunic; moved forward and hauled the man over his shoulder onto a table. The man lay there for a moment before attempting to get to his feet, and the other who started the fight raised up.

"You cheating, lying bastard!" he cried, and Berin looked back at Falgon as more men rose to their feet.

"You ready for some more jail time?" he asked, and Falgon sighed.

"Oh sure, why not?" Gavin slammed a horn onto the head of an attacker, knocking him out.

"You're not getting the barracks to yourself again." he joined them, and suddenly it was a free-for-all skirmish, the grizzly inn keeper hunkering behind the counter for cover while the girls rushed upstairs, avoiding flying plates and horns. Moments later the town guard rushed in to restore order. After detaining the instigators of the fight, and taking statements from the witnesses and determining that the sentinels acted in self-defence; they were allowed to leave the tavern. Halfway up the road back to Mount Ardor, Berin stopped and Falgon turned back to him.

"What's wrong?" he asked, and Berin looked up at him.

"Did we pay for the ale?" Falgon smiled,

"Of course I did." Berin chuckled.

"Good. Let's not add theft to cheating, lying and brawling." Gavin said with a laugh, and they continued on their way up to the castle.

By mid day the following day, the festival was in full action and citizens from the reaches of the Corridor started to arrive for the celebration. Among the first of the vassal houses to arrive was lord Gerard Foch of Earndale Palace under his mammoth banners, with his wife, two sons and their wives and young children. Lord Florentius Violet of Longdale Citadel under the violet flower circled by a ring of thorns accompanied by his wife and two daughters, and lord Ernaldus Rames of Hurlton Fortress under his rams-head, who was also the overseer of Ramshorn, the sheep capital of the Corridor with two sons, one with a wife, and his daughter; with her husband. Raeghun welcomed them enthusiastically. Most set up camp sites on the grounds around the village and between the castle. Milla and two other handmaidens aided Claira to decide on her attire for the occasion. She finally decided on a red dress with silver stars embroidered on the bodice and down the side length of the skirt, grey flat slippers, and a pendant shaped to the likeness of a phoenix holding a glimmering red stone at its chest which Raeghun had commissioned to be made, and presented to her on her seventeenth name day almost three moons ago.

"We won't be heading down before sunset." Claira said as she waited for the handmaiden to finish brushing out her hair.

"I know, but it's better to be prepared." Milla said, scanning through the wardrobe.

"What will you be wearing?" Claira asked, and Milla thought for a moment, imagining her garments.

"I'm not sure. Perhaps the green with the silver neckline. It seems appropriate." she said, and then turned back and Claira waved the maiden away before standing up.

"Well then, make your preparations. I'll take a short walk in the gardens, and then I'll come back to finish up. I'll help you with your hair, if you want?" she offered, and Milla smiled.

"Just like old times?" Claira smiled back.

"Just like old times." they departed the lord's wing, and found Falgon waiting outside at his post.

"Not ready to depart for the festival yet, your grace?" he asked, and she glanced out a window set between the maester's tower, and a stairway leading up into the sun tower.

"In a while, I'd like to pay a visit to our garden first." Claira said, and he bowed his head respectfully.

"As you wish, your grace." he followed as they made their way down the incline to the Hall of Fire, from where Milla took her leave to prepare herself for the festival. They made their way outside to the castle gardens, overlooking the Sunset Sea and admiring the many colourful flowers with their sweet scents. She stopped, taking in the breeze, and then looked at him as a thought crossed her mind.

"You've never spoken of your life, before you came here. Do you miss it?" she asked, and a short silence followed.

"I do, sometimes. But life is better now than what it was then." he said, she looked at him, tilting her head slightly.

"You were discontent?" he smiled, following her along the narrow pathway.

"I had a happy life, your grace. A warm home, kind parents, mischievous siblings and good people around us. We did what many people filled their days with, hunting, fishing, learning all of life's lessons, and playing, of course. As boys, we had great 'battles' in the fields." he told, and she shared his nostalgia.

"I'm assuming you won most of these battles." she said, keeping her eyes on the little path.

"Some of them, but mostly just because I was the tallest, and the loudest." he said, thinking back to those times.

"You grew up in a warmer climate than here?" she noted that he made little effort to cover his arms against the northern climate that oft times unexpectedly swept through their home.

"I did. We had fortunate few uses for the warm furs that is so abundant here. It was a wonderful time in a wonderful place among wonderful people… And eventually, as childhood left me, I fell in love." he said, again picturing the face in his mind. Claira glanced at him.

"What a special woman she must have been." she reflected.

"She resembled you, slightly. Her hair was the colour of the earth, her eyes the green of sunlit meadows. And like you, she was kind and compassionate; but she was strong and stubborn. She swung an axe with greater accuracy than an archer with his arrows at close range." he told.

"A trait better than mine. I couldn't swing a broomstick to save my own life." she joked, and then he turned to her.

"That's why you have me, your grace." he reminded, bowing slightly; and she again thought of his constant formality before continuing down the path.

"You would have married your earthen maiden?" she asked, and he nodded.

"I would have. But fate turned me down a different path, I'm afraid. I have not experienced any powerful affections for anyone since… until quite recently." he said, bringing a slight laugh from her.

"A fair maiden from our own hold?" she teased, and he laughed with her.

"I definitely have strong feelings, but I haven't quite decided what exactly it is I'm experiencing. I am hoping that it will turn out positive, in some way." he said, then she stopped and turned to him.

"I wish you every happiness, Falgon." she said sincerely, and his features softened as he faced her.

"I am happy, your grace. Since coming here, I can truly say that I have felt more content than I have in a long, long time." he assured, and they resumed their leisurely walk through the garden before returning inside to prepare for the festival. The day progressed quickly and after redressing for the festival, and helping one another with their hair, Claira and Milla made their way down to the Hall of Fire where Raeghun, Berin and the sentinels, and most of the castle hands awaited them. They exited the great doors and headed down the steps; a group awaiting them at the bottom of the stairway. A litter stood ready to the left.

"We've prepared a palanquin for you, milady." one of the men said as he bowed. She smiled as she wrapped hand around her husband's elbow.

"Thank you for the gesture, but I'll walk." she declined, and the men moved away to store the litter again. In a group, they left the grounds of Mount Ardor across the bridge, a young boy flying a banner. Lord Raeghun and Lady Claira Taugere led a column with Berin and Falgon to their sides, Milla and Metron the court master in the centre followed by the eight remaining sentinels, handmaidens and whomever else wished to attend the festival following behind them, and the sun touched the edge of the world. As the stars made their presence known in the night sky, the night turned bright around a great fire, and many torches lighting the field. Travelling merchants sold their wares from their stands, the townspeople sat at the many tables in a stretch of field where they talked and laughed while enjoying the abundance of ale and mead. A band played next to a piece of field cleared and lined with hay bales for a dance ring, children ran and played and laughed, their voices sounding into the night. The citizens were lively and mirthful. Milla looked over the people around them from her place at Claira's side at a long table, plates stocked with fruits and nuts set on it's surface every few feet for their consumption. Others had found their places among other tables with either nobles or commoners. It was a lovely warm night filled with music and voices of the townspeople and castle inhabitants alike; the women smiling and the men frivolous. She glanced over her shoulder at a well sized stand in front of a wagon, a cow tied to its back. A heavy horse stood grazing to one side while a young suntanned woman handed out small glasses to all who visits her. A worn cloth hung above her head, with a picture of a bright red cherry with blue, yellow and green stripes painted onto it. Then she brought her attention back to Claira.

"It seems the men are enjoying themselves." she mentioned, and Claira leaned over slightly.

"I just hope it's not too much." she said.

"That new vendor is drawing a lot of attention, I wonder what she is selling." Milla said, again glancing at the stand.

"Something exotic, I'm sure. Everyday items don't get that kind of consideration." Claira decided.

"Do you want to find out?" Milla asked, moving slightly back to move off the bench.

"Heavens, Milla." Claira said, tilting her head somewhat, and Milla took her cold hand in hers.

"Just a peek. I'm curious, and please don't tell me you're not, my lady." she urged, and then Claira sighed.

"Al right. One quick look." she agreed, then they stood and made their way to the stand. The young woman smiled broadly as they approached.

"Welcome, my beautiful ladies, to The Banded Cherry! What may I interest you in? A fruit? A cream? Perhaps a fantastic dream?" she greeted them warmly. She was dressed in a colourful shirt beneath a brown leather corset, a black skirt with bells chiming around her ankles to draw attention, and a faded pink headband kept thick curly dark hair from her face.

"What is this?" Claira asked as she scanned the many bottles of liquids of purple, red, green, orange, deep amber and white. Three large barrels stood behind her where a brown and white blue-eyed flock-hound lay on the ground in front of them, and a large cauldron stood over a fire filled with a white foamy fluid.

"Nectars of the gods, milady. Some make you warm, some make you cold. Some taste sweet, some taste bitter, some taste sour; but they all let you see the stars up close. One or two might even bring out your deepest desires. Make your most colourful dreams come true. Choose any one of my sweet fruits, let them dance on your pallet. Or perhaps, something a bit lighter to the touch?" she offered, as she motioned to the many bottles; she even handed a small glass of a yellow liquid to Milla. She took it, and brought it carefully to her lips letting the fluid touch her tongue. She winced and swallowed, before taking a deep breath.

"This is… certainly different, than what we're used to." she said, coughing once and handing the little glass back to the woman, who chuckled.

"I see that I will not persuade you so easily as I do the men. But they seem to enjoy the peach the most, I'll make sure to ask my brothers to bring me three crates more for next year's festival." she said, glancing at the people.

"You have quite a selection available to you, here." Claira said as she still marvelled the wide range of colours behind the woman.

"Our parents have a large distillery, I create liqueurs from a wide range of fruits, herbs and spices: Blueberry, Lemon, Mango, Nut, Passion-fruit, Peach, Raspberry and Strawberry. A speciality I have for the ladies are Velvet Cream and Ivory Milk, and for those with a need for a more pungent taste I have Black Mist and Devil's Blood. But I often advise not to take these two together, they're prone to illusions and… momentary insanity." she warned, two men approached and paid two silvers for two small glasses of mango liqueur, they swallowed eagerly before returning the glasses and venturing off again. The woman rinsed the glasses in a pail of water before wiping them clean with a cloth, and replacing them on the table.

"So, you're from here?" Milla enquired.

"Yes, milday. Our farm is close to White Harbour, my brothers are dock masters there. They bring me crates of fruit from exotic places every few weeks, that allows me to create my special nectars. But I can only make enough for special occasions; this is my first festival." the vendor told.

"You've had no trouble coming here?" Claira asked, noting that the woman was alone. She smiled.

"Oh, no one ever bothers me." she said, glancing back at the dog behind her.

"The roads are usually peaceful, and Jo keeps me company." she said, and then looked back at the ladies.

"Well, it was very nice to meet you. But before we leave you, we'll each have one of your favourite speciality." Milla said smiling, and winking at her friend; the woman again smiled broadly.

"Ivory Milk it is. Then I will definitely see you again." she said, and turned. She brought two sizeable wooden goblets from a large tub under her stand and moved to the cauldron behind her, then took the handle of the ladle and stirred the contents around four times before bringing it up and filling the goblets. She replaced the ladle and then moved to a table set to the right, setting the goblets down on its surface. She took a bottle with dark liquid from a crate and added several drops of the fluid into each of the goblets, before replacing the bottle and taking up a different bottle filled with finely ground powder before adding that to the mixture as well. Finally she brought a jar with raw honey down from a small collapsible shelf and stuck two long wooden straws into the honey, swirling them around the jar to take up as much of the sweetness as it could, then brought the straws over the goblets and let them sink into the liquid. She replaced the jar of honey and then stirred the fluid of each goblet in turn before bringing it back to the ladies, and handing each a goblet.

"Enjoy, my ladies. I will see you again, so this round is free." she insisted. After thanking the vendor, Claira and Milla headed back to the table. Claira brought the drink to her mouth, and found it extremely satisfying. The liquid was light, sweet and warm; with a slight spiciness to the after-taste; and they did indeed return to the vendor several times during the merriments before returning to the hold to retire for the evening.

More festive days followed, the atmosphere in and around the festival taking on an increasingly bibulous state under the night sky as the servers kept the horns and goblets full with flowing wine, ale and mead; and of course the new magical liqueurs. Everyone became orgiastic, save for Falgon. This night, he sat at one of the many tables with several of the sentinels, talking of various subjects and some of his travels. Once, he spent two years among the horse lords of the great grass sea of Essos.

"Can you speak their language?" one of the men asked, and Falgon laughed, bringing the horn to his lips.

"I can, a little bit. I had to learn it, and fast." he confirmed. The sentinel smiled.

"Go on, then. Ask me something. Ask me if my sword is sharp." he urged, and Falgon looked at him.

"Is yeri az has?" he sounded the words precisely, and the men glanced at each other. Falgon chuckled, and then emptied the horn in his hand before holding it out to the guard.

"Gwe get anna eshna chiva." he said again, the man laughed before standing and taking the horn, and the hint.

"Anha'm athayozar." Falgon said as he sat back, and the man left with another to refill the horns from a barrel. Then he looked at the others.

"If you will excuse me, I need to check on something." he said before standing and wandering off into the stir of the festival. He walked up the pathway, and then stopped as blue eyes looked up at him, a wooden goblet with white liquid in her hands and a dress of deep purple velvet hugging her contours.

"My pardon, your grace. Is everything in order?" he enquired, and she smiled at him.

"Yes. And how are you finding the celebration? Are you enjoying yourself?" she asked.

"It's pleasant. I haven't seen a festival like this for quite some time. But I'll be careful not to abandon my responsibilities." he said, and she glanced around his arm to the fire.

"It's a festival, Falgon. Go and savour it, I'll be with lord Raeghun the entire night." she insisted, just then Milla appeared next to him, bright in a light orange dress.

"Ser Falgon, come dance with me." she urged, wrapping her hands around his elbow. He looked at her.

"I really shouldn't. I'll step on your toes." he tried, but she pulled on his arm slightly.

"Come, Berin is busy." she encouraged, and he looked back at Claira.

"He and my husband are entertaining the vassal lords. Go on, you might regret not taking up this offer, later." she said, and he laughed.

"Al right, but if Berin pulls my lungs out, I'm blaming you." he relented, and followed her to the clearing where villagers were dancing, and the band kept performing their music. How they didn't tire of the constant playing was a marvel. She led him into the little ring just as the song died out. He breathed in and out slowly before bringing his hands up to take hold of her left hand with his right, and gently laid the fingers of his left on her waist. The music started and he moved, leading her easily. Back, back, forward, arch; his memories revisited yet another blissful time of his life. The dance ended, and he stepped back bowing to her, his right hand still holding hers. When he rose, she was staring at him and he released her hand.

"My apologies, did I hurt you?" then she smiled.

"No, that was lovely. You dance like a high-born." she said, and he shrugged.

"I learned." she glanced towards the tables.

"Why not ask lady Claira for a dance, too?" she suggested, and he followed her gaze.

"That would hardly be appropriate, a commoner asking the lady for a dance." he said, and she looked back at him.

"You danced with me." she reminded, and his eyes met hers again.

"I did, but you asked me, not the other way around." he said smiling again, and she took a small step closer.

"I could always persuade her to ask you." she hinted, and he laughed.

"That's kind of you, but our lord would carve out my heart with a fork." he bowed to her again.

"If you'll excuse me, lady Milla." he left then, returning to the table and finding a full horn waiting for him.

Claira sat next to Raeghun at the long table, listening to the conversation of the lords. They had evidently taken a liking in the Black Mist this night, a serving girl with a large tray made her appearance every so often with small glasses filled with a deep blue, almost black liqueur. Lord Rames advised that the sheep count of Ramshorn had more than doubled within the past year, and that they might be able to expect better prices from selling flocks and exporting wool to farther reaches, especially towards the north in colder climates. Lord Foch in turn advised that the coastal fishing villages had seen a shortage of eels and pilchards, but that harvests of salmon, haddock and turbot remained constant. Some fishermen even started harvesting crab and oysters in small quantities to try and make up for any insufficiency. Lord Violet assured that the honey farms that had fallen prey to the 'red bears' were rebuilt, and producing once again; however it may take some months before the trade levels out to where it had been before the pillaging started. Raeghun listened to each of them, and shared his thoughts on possible solutions to any problems, and further betterment for their citizenry.

"It is they who are the lifeblood of our country. Without them, everything goes to oblivion. We rely on them for full storehouses: food, clothing, firewood; just as much as they do our protection. We must make every effort to ease their lives." she heard him say, and gently smiled. He was good at this, he understood people, recognized their needs. Then she felt pressure on her leg, and looked down to see a little girl with big bright eyes and brown locks staring up at her. She may have been a little past two years of age. The little girl's hands reached up to Claira, and she smiled.

"Pretty." she said, the tiny little voice bubbly and expressive. Claira reached down and picked the little girl up, setting her down on her lap, the little eyes gazing at her in wonder.

"Well, hello. Where did you come from?" she asked, smiling.

"Pretty." the little girl said again, reaching for the lady's hair with one hand. Claira took a lock of hair hanging over her shoulder, and gave it to the toddler who took it eagerly and played with the strands, giggling as firelight shone off the contrasting strands of black and white. Just then, Raeghun looked at her, and noticed the little one sitting on his wife's lap. He turned.

"And who's this little lady?" he asked with a warm smile, and Claira glanced at him.

"I don't know. She just kind of appeared." she said, and Raeghun extended a hand to the little one.

"Hello. And what's your name?" he asked, and the little one looked at him.

"Mia!" she said, and took hold of his fingers squeezing gently and they laughed. Berin sat forward to see what had taken the lord's attention, and spotted the little girl on the lady's lap; then smiled taking in the scene of kind and smiling faces. How could you be so cruel, to keep something like this from them? He thought, before returning his attention to the current conversation. The little girl sat with them for quite some time, until she started yawning, signalling her time for sleep, and an idea came to mind. Claira placed a hand on Raeghun's knee.

"I'll be right back." she whispered, and then stood up moving the child to her hip. She walked along the pathway to The Banded Cherry, finding the vendor still handing out her glasses of elixirs. The woman, who they had come to know as Syla smiled broadly as she approached.

"Welcome again, my beautiful lady!" she greeted, and then looked at the little one.

"Your daughter is as fair as you are, milady." she complimented, and Claira blushed.

"Thank you, but she's not mine." she corrected, glancing at the girl sleepily rubbing her eyes; and then returned her attention to Syla.

"I'd like to purchase an Ivory Milk, but without the spice and drops, please." she said, and Syla nodded. She brought another smaller wooden chalice from the tub under her stand and filled it with milk from the cauldron and added the honey before presenting it to Claira, who felt around her girdle, suddenly realizing that her coin purse lay forgotten on the table.

"If it would be al right with you, Syla; I will bring your coin before I retire for the night." she said, and the vendor smiled at her.

"Not to worry, milady. I won't have you pay for this one." she said, and Claira returned her smile taking the cup.

"You are truly generous." she thanked, and then started her way back to the table. Milla found her along the way, also heading for the table and looked at the girl holding the cup in her hand.

"My lady?" momentary confusion flashed in her eyes.

"She found me at our table. I don't know where her mother is, and she's getting sleepy." she explained. Milla looked around.

"Oh, I'm sure she'll find us soon enough." she said, and they started their way back to the table again. As they came into view of the table, a woman came rushing over. It was one of lord Foch's daughters by law.

"Ameera, there you are! I've been looking all over for you." she exclaimed, and then stopped in front of Claira and Milla.

"A thousand pardons, my lady. I charged one of my handmaidens with her care, but it seems she wandered off in the excitement." she apologised, and Claira glanced at the little girl who had laid her head against her shoulder.

"It's quite al right, lady Mandry." she said smiling, and the mother's arms went to take her.

"I hope she was not any trouble to you." she said as Claira released the sleepy toddler into her mother's care.

"No, not at all. She was a delight." she assured, and the young mother's eyes met hers again.

"Thank you, so much." she said before departing for their pavilion, and Claira and Milla rejoined the conversation at the table for a time before deciding that it was time for them too, to retire for the remainder of the night, and Claira stood.

"If it please, my lords. I bid you all a fond night, and will see you again on the morrow." she greeted, and they all shared her favour. Milla stood to join her, and Berin followed. As she turned to move away from the table, Raeghun's powerful arm wrapped around the form of her leg and pulled her towards him, and she unexpectedly landed on his knees, his other arm supporting her back and he looked at her. She smiled as their eyes met.

"That was new." and then he smiled back.

"I'll be just a little while more." he said, and then his hand left her knee and went up to her face, his fingers weaving into her hair while he pulled her closer to seize her lips with his. Those around the table looked on, some occasionally sparing glances at one another before he released her.

"I will find you later." he whispered, and then allowed her to stand before resuming their conversation and the small party left to return to Mount Ardor. A few steps away from the table, Falgon appeared as if he had been summoned, and accompanied them to the hold. Once entering the Hall of Fire, several guards and castle hands took their leave for the evening, Berin and Milla made their way to the second level where a door to the left side led to the servant's quarters, from where the lady further made her way to the lord's wing with her sentinel following. After disappearing from their sight, Berin turned to Milla.

"Well, the festival has really turned into something else, this year. I don't think it's ever been this expansive." he commented.

"Indeed, it seems the people are enjoying it profusely." she agreed, then he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. Her hands rested against his chest.

"And once this festival is over, I'll have another reason for a large celebration." he said smiling, and she blushed.

"Just a few more days..." she reflected, and he rested his brow against hers.

"I can't wait." then he closed his mouth over hers in a loving kiss, his arms constricting around her. Her arms slid around his neck and held him against her for a moment longer before releasing him, feeling the muscles harden under his clothing. He breathed.

"You make things very difficult, you know that?" he teased, and she drew back.

"Then before I burden you further, I'm going to bed." she turned and headed for the door, and he was left watching her.

"Good night, my flower." he said, and then she turned back smiling.

"Good night, my crimson knight." and then she vanished. Berin sighed, and lightly shook his head to resume control over himself and then proceeded back down the stairway to the barracks to retire for the evening.

Claira opened the heavy door of the lord's wing and stepped inside as Falgon bowed to her.

"Sleep well, your grace." he greeted, and she turned smiling and took hold of the door.

"Good night, ser Falgon. Will you be returning to the festival?" he rose up.

"No, your grace. I will remain in the hold, in any event you have need of me. I still have a few books to finish." she breathed in. Sometimes his commitment and presence was as austere as it was comforting.

"Would the festival not be more entertaining than a book?" she asked, and he glanced down the hallway.

"I believe I've had enough of the festival for one night. Intoxication has never been my opinion of amusement." he said, and then turned back to her, her blue eyes examining him, searching for something unspoken.

"I don't think, that I have ever met anyone like you. You're such a mystery." she said, and he paused for a moment.

"Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?" he asked, and she laughed.

"Good, I believe." then he smiled, and bowed again.

"Then I shall try to keep it this way." he said, and she nodded.

"Well, good night then. Enjoy your book." she said, and started to close the door.

"Sleep well, your grace." he greeted again, and waited until he heard her soft footsteps disappear from the doorway before returning to the barracks. He resumed his usual place in front of the fire, and picked up one of the books, scanning the title: A Frozen Rose.

It was well past midnight when Raeghun returned to the castle along with others. The halls were peaceful, and silent save for the crackling from the fireplace and the torches. He greeted the others before making his way up to the lord's wing. He closed the door securely behind him, and headed through the lord's hall and up the winding staircase to the lord's chamber. He found his wife already asleep, and as she normally did, a plump pillow was tucked against her stomach. He released himself from his clothing, and lay down next to her, running his fingers across her shoulder and arm. She stirred slightly as he removed her thick hair from her neck, and revealed the soft skin so his lips could meet her there. He heard her moan slightly at his touch, then his hands moved over her again to cast off the light nightgown, and expose more of her to him.

"Raeghun…" he heard her whisper his name, then moved forward onto her pushing her gently into the bed. He lowered himself to kiss her right shoulder, and then allowed his mouth to trace a warm line down the length of her spine before moving back up and to the opposite shoulder, and then put his lips to her ear and whispering. He brought his knees between hers, then gripped her hips in his hands before pulling her up, positioning her legs to his. Then he leaned forward again, and softly kissed the length of her spine again, down to the small of her back. His left hand reached under her and pulled the pillow through beneath her. Then he raised up and leaned forward, taking hold of her hips once again. He heard her gasp as his bare skin touched her, he moved again slightly and then pushed himself forward into her. She breathed in sharply as the new sensation rushed through her, and as he moved again she cried out. His hands held her firmly while he moved, each time he closed the distance between them her breath sounded throughout the chambers, then he leaned forward, allowing his hands to push into the mattress on either side of her ribs and he pushed her further into the bed, her body resting on the pillow underneath her stomach, bringing himself closer and increasing the state he brought about her senses; her sure breaths changed to soft wails and her knuckles turned white as her hands strained into the bedding.

She lay against him, breathing hard as he held her close to him; her body shuddering.

"Did I hurt you?" she looked up at him, a tired smile rising the corners of her lips.

"No..." she breathed.

"You were crying..." she raised up, supporting herself on an elbow.

"It was different; that's all. You could never hurt me." she insisted, then he kissed her.

"I love you." his fingers wound into her hair, and she leaned forward again.

"What made you think of that?" he smiled, a light flush on his cheeks.

"I don't know. I just wanted to try something different..." she retook her place on the pillows, and they were swept away into blissful sleep.

Another day of festive activities followed, the people more frivolous than ever with dancing, laughing, drinking and feasting. A new wagon train of travelling entertainers arrived earlier this day, displaying bright colours. They set up close to the centre of the festival, and a gold skinned man with greying black hair, dressed entirely in blue silks approached the lord.

"My lord, we have heard of your rich fair; and have travelled afar to present you with our many magical talents. My company of extravagant entertainers include astute acrobats, nimble dancers, singers that would shame the sirens, animal binders, and fire breathers for your pleasure." the man presented, his voice laced with foreign accent; motioning to the large train of wagons behind him; bronze skinned people with black hair exiting and leaning from little windows; the women displaying open waists between woven tops and smooth legs under short leather skirts, and bands of copper jingling around their wrists and ankles; and the men wearing only faded brown garments covering their waist and legs. Two wagons held cages with powerful animals, among them a large snake, a bear, a lion, a tiger and a very, very big wolf. Raeghun glanced at Berin, who shrugged, and then he turned back to the man.

"And to whom do I extend my welcome?" he asked, and the man smiled broadly through a thick full beard of silvery black.

"I am called Master Blue, my lord. And my company, The Dancing Mau's, who hail from Faros on Great Moraq." he said, indicating to somewhere far into the sky. Raeghun returned the warm smile.

"Welcome to the Horn Festival, Master Blue. Settle in, we'll anticipate great things for this evening." he said, and the man bowed to him.

"Thank you, my lord." he said, and then turned to go back to the wagons. Raeghun turned back to Berin.

"I just hope the lion is kept in its cage, tonight." he said softly, but Berin smiled.

"Not to worry, my lord. It's nothing you can't handle." he assured. Night descended once again, and the world was left in the light of fires, stars and a bright moon, and the main table traded the Black Mist from the Banded Cherry for the Devil's Blood, a thick bright red syrup. The Dancing Mau's certainly provided every sense of the entertainment that was offered while the first group of acrobats and fire breathers entertained with flashes of fire from their mouths and twirling staves to the beat of drums. A slender woman performed an intricate dance while the large snake slithered its way up her body from the ground; finally covering every length of her frame before she bowed to the awed crowd. A large man told in broken common tongue of the time he found the great wolf in a woodland as the creature circled him eagerly. Large paws the colour of snow left prints in the soft earth the size of his hands as his tail wagged and a muzzle of the same colour sniffed the air excitedly. Essentially, had the man not discovered on that day that he was an animal binder, the wolf would have taken him for his supper. He ran a hand along the beast's back, showing off a deep sheen as dark as the night, but as he brought his hand back, the sparks of silver lighted under the moon's rays. The brown bear came rolling into the circle on a barrel before hopping off and circling a woman in a red dress. The woman spoke in a foreign language smiling at the bear, then it grumbled as it moved off into the crowd, sniffing at the people it passed. It finally paused in front of Claira, looking at her with big brown eyes. It moved forward, sniffing her cold hands and then moved up to her face, its nose so close she could see the tiny lines on its surface. The bear again moved forward, laying its massive head against her cheek and she felt the warm fur prickling her skin, and the smell of pine cones and hay drifting over her. She felt dizzy, experiencing pressure to her chest. Suddenly, a warm pink tongue licked the left side of her face before it moved back and sat down on the ground in front of her, staring at her. She could see every feature, every detail of her being mirrored in the creature's eyes, circled by a ring of bright gold. The dizziness intensified as a sensation of tingling crept down her legs and arms, and the edges of her vision became a foggy haze. The woman moved forward, and smiled.

"He like you. He feel heart. He licks, he like." she said, and Claira glanced down; seeing that a massive paw covered the entirety of her chest, feeling the pulse of a racing heartbeat. The woman spoke again, and the bear stood rising high above everyone; and a fleeting thought passed her that even the tallest of their sentinels would be dwarfed by this beast. The bear then turned, and moved away from them, returning to his master. A rush of air left her lungs as she realized that at some point, she stopped breathing; and as new air filled her, her vision returned and the tingling faded. Raeghun leaned over.

"Are you al right?" he asked, and she looked at him before glancing down, seeing her own hand white around his and she quickly released him.

"Yes, gods that was intense!" he chuckled, attempting to brush the nerves away with the wrinkles on the front of her green and gold dress.

"I can certainly believe that." a serving girl distributed small glasses of the liqueur to those around the table, and she glimpsed the liquid passing into his mouth was a sheen of dark blue. A loud roar drew their attention, and they looked to see a man walk into the circle, a large hoop held in his hand and a white animal with black stripes following him. Four crates were spaced around the man as the tiger circled him, he called out and the tiger hopped onto a crate, turning and snarling. The man cried again, and the tiger proceeded to jump from one crate to the next in long strides as the man's attention followed him. The tiger ended on a crate to his back left, and the man turned to face the onlookers. He moved to a burning torch, and held the hoop above it, the ring taking fire; then he moved back and held the burning ring high above his head. The tiger growled, and swiped a paw in his direction. The man smiled, and cried out once more; and the tiger leapt, easily passing through the burning loop and landing on the crate to the man's right front, again roaring as he turned. The man extinguished the flames with a quick stroke through the air before bowing to the applauding people, the tiger made his way to him and circled the man once more before laying down on his front paws, nose touching the ground; also something resembling a bow before they left the circle. Master Blue emerged from the side and took a place in the centre, then rose his hands and addressed the people.

"My lords, my ladies! Please remain calm for our next entertainer, while our lion is fond of people, he is still quite young and not as familiar with strangers as his predecessors. He will not lash out, but does get excited easily. For your pleasure, I present our lion binder!" he stepped away as a young woman and a lion, scarcely sprouting a mane approached. The lion walked around her, gently nudging her legs before sitting down next to her.

"He shy. He only see two year. Make welcome." a score of applause followed, and the young lion stood to walk around her again, and her attention turned to him. She spoke softly in their native tongue, and the lion managed to perform small tasks like sitting, presenting a big paw, lying down and rolling onto his back for a fond scratch; and the people kindly rewarded his efforts. But as the young lion stood to claim his prize, his attention left the woman for something far more tempting: A little girl playing with straw on the border of the circle. The woman called to him, but he paid her no mind as he sauntered over to the toddler. He stood over her, hidden between the bales watching as her hands fumbled with the tiny reeds; and several people stood in shock and horror as a terrified mother suddenly cried out, only now realizing her child had gone. The woman called again, desperately attempting to draw the lion's attention away from the little one, but he was fixated on the new playmate. He drew closer, sniffing the brown locks and then she looked up, bright eyes staring in wonder, and then raised her hands up.

"Fuzzy..." her fingers touched the rough whiskers, and the lion moved closer, lying down on his belly with paws astride the girl in the hay. Two men with long staves appeared, closing in on both sides of the lion before Master Blue shouted something at them, and they stopped.

"Why aren't they doing something?" Berin asked, and Raeghun glanced at him.

"Because of what it may cause. Provoked, he will attack the closest object; in this case the child. He's not trying to harm her, he's curious and wants to play. Unfortunately, his strength far outweighs hers." Claira laid a hand on his arm, feeling him tremble.

"My love?" then he stood, and walked forward; heart beating in his chest like the hoof beats of a stampeding horse. Berin stood to follow him.

"Stay here." came the command, and he remained as the lord walked forward and those around them stared. The lion snarled, nibbling at the tiny hands that touched his face while Raeghun closed the distance, and finally stood behind the toddler. The lion looked up, light eyes glinting between darkness and firelight and teeth bared in a display of possessiveness.

"She does not belong to you." he said to the lion, then it stood and roared, challenging the lord of Mount Ardor; and more people came to their feet.

"You cannot have her." Raeghun said again, and moved forward placing his left foot on the ground in front of the little girl for protection as the lion stepped back, and roared again.

"Go back to your master." the lord ordered, and the lion moved further back, driven by an irrefutable energy coming off the man in front of him. Master Blue motioned for the men with the staves to move forward, and they rushed over to herd the lion back to his cage. Raeghun bowed to pick the girl up, and held her to his chest as Master Blue came rushing over.

"My deepest apologies, my lord. Is the little one al right?" he asked, and Raeghun glanced at him.

"I do not think she has been harmed; but if you would not object I would prefer that the creature be kept in his cage." he mentioned, and Master Blue bowed.

"As you wish, my lord." he relented, and then glanced back at the lion as he was taken around the corner of a wagon before looking back at Raeghun.

"I've never seen any man do something like that. You may be a lion binder yourself, my lord." he mentioned, and Raeghun breathed out.

"Unfortunately, a slayer would be closer to the facts." he answered morosely and then turned to resume his place. The mother rushed over to him.

"Thank you, lord Raeghun." she said, extending her arms.
"You ought to keep a closer eye on her, lady Mandry." he said, releasing little Ameera into her mother's care, and retook his place on the seat beside his wife.

"We just can't keep you away from them, can we?" Berin joked, and Raeghun smiled.

"Luckily, this wasn't like that time." he said, and Claira leaned over.

"Are you al right?" she asked, and his eyes went to hers.

"I'm fine. It was just a little one." he tried brushing it off, still feeling the racing pulse in his throat. The circle was cleared, and more people assumed places in the little ring, some with something resembling lutes and others with drums; three men dressed in white stepped onto crates; and soft music started. The women came into the circle, swinging wands with long bright ribbons attached to the ends, creating intricate patterns through the air as they danced and the circlets chimed around their ankles and wrists as they moved. The night was woven into music, and the singing voice of two young men, unknown words drifting over the people and far into the night before the deeper, more defined voice of the older man joined theirs, rising high to the blinking stars. The claps of hands sounded on the rhythm while people were taken away in the ambiance. People laughed, cheered and weaved to the beat, and seeing their enthusiasm several of the dancers dove into the crowd to claim the women. Seven of the women trotted to the main table like frolicking deer and seized Claira and Milla, drawing them away and into the circle. Raeghun leaned forward, curious of the current events as they watched the foreign trying to teach their exciting dance to the high-born and villagers. At first, one of the girls only held Claira's hands, swaying them gently; another showed Milla how she moved to the drumbeats. Raeghun spared a glance at Berin; their eyes met and then they shared an impish smile before Berin returned his attention to the circle. Raeghun's eyes moved up, and he could spot Falgon standing some feet away close to a burning torch, watching intently. The shadows flickered over a thoughtless face, but the eyes were focused; like he was memorizing each movement. He smirked, and then returned his attention back to the dance.

"I can't do this." Claira whispered, and then the woman next to her moved closer.

"Let music take you." she said, and Claira looked at her, and she smiled warmly. She took a step back and moved behind Claira, placing her hands gently on her hips.

"No listen. Feel." She said, reaching a hand up and placing gentle pressure to her chest.

"Feel here." she said, and Claira's gaze went to the people around them. Some were staring. The woman brought her face closer.

"Forget others. Lose you. It happiness." her hand moved back down to Claira's hips, and she glanced over to Milla where two women moved about her. The woman behind her looked at another, and called to her in their strange tongue.

"Close eyes, it help. We help." she said, as the woman came up in front of the lady, blocking the people in the crowd from her view, and gently took her arms then started to move, first in gently sways. Claira thought that closing her eyes might be better, a little escape from the staring eyes. Then the hands on her hips started moving as well, taking her in gentle sways to the sound of the voices and drumbeat, at first slow and then the magic of the sound took her, and as she became familiar with the movements it became easier to conform with the rhythm. Unlike the dances they were taught in their holds, now it was primarily her hips that moved in gentle tilts and circles as the mass of her weight alternated from one leg to the other while the rest of her body followed. She heard the women around her laughing excitedly.

"Yes! Yes!" she said, and Claira could feel her movements match hers, more defined, more supple.

"Yes!" the woman in front of her said, and slowly brought her arms above her head to display the length of her slender frame as her body swayed, silhouetted by the great fire behind them. The hands left her then, and she moved on her own matching the dance of those around them. Claira opened her eyes to see Milla next to her, and they danced together smiling; weaving exotically to the beat and song while people watched, hypnotized by the new scene. Dark eyes followed the shadows, contrasted by the light of the bright fire, taking in every detail. He watched the women dancing and smiling, the men drinking and jesting and more and more horns and small glasses were shared. Liqueurs of red and black were handed out freely, and uneasiness crept up his back. A strong hand clamped down on his shoulder, and he looked to his side to see Gavin.

"Hey, you've been quiet. There's a horn waiting for you." Falgon returned his attention to the circle.

"I believe I've had enough for tonight." he declined, and Gavin's eyes followed his into the crowd.

"Now that really is something to see. This is the best Horn Festival we've ever had." he mentioned, but the unease would not fade, and he couldn't tell why.

"I really don't think you've had enough to drink. I swear you're the most sober man here." Gavin joked, and shoved a gentle fist into his arm.

"Come on, one drink." he urged, bringing a slight smile to the face of the tall man.

"I appreciate it, Gavin. But it would not be appropriate to get inebriated while having obligations to complete." he said, and Gavin scoffed.

"You're not on duty now. Lady Claira is as safe now as she possibly could be." he tried again.

"The safety of her grace is a constant responsibility. I would not shirk it for anything." Falgon said, watching as the dance finally ended and the people left the circle.

"You take your duty too seriously." he said.

"If I don't, what good am I?" he asked, and then looked at Gavin again.

"You're a strange man, Falgon of the Fire Hall." he teased, and he smiled.

"Strangeness is a matter of perception. Where mead tastes like honey to you, it's nothing but water to me." Falgon mentioned, and Gavin chuckled again.

"Al right, have it your way." Gavin said, and then turned.

"Enjoy that one for me." Falgon then turned his attention back to the people at the table where Claira had retaken her place at her lord husband's side and eagerly held a chalice to her mouth. Berin leaned over to Milla, placing his lips to her ear.

"I didn't know you could move like that." he teased, and she blushed.

"There are a lot of things you don't know about me, yet." she replied, and his hand went to her face gently, fingers running across her cheek.

"I'll find out soon enough." he moved forward and kissed her. Claira set the goblet down on the table top, feeling the warmth of the invigorating motion stretch through her muscles; and then her hand went to her stomach, a dull pain edging its way through her hips and she sighed; the ache of yet another early bloom; and the dancing certainly didn't help. She looked up to see yet another group of fire breathers entertaining the crowds; and despite the temptation to stay decided that it might be better suited to retreat to the hold and let the warmth of the bath chamber further ease the cramping of her muscles. She placed a hand on Raeghun's knee and leaned forward as he returned the gesture.

"If you would not mind, my love. I feel the need to retire." she said softly, and he nodded.

"Very well. I won't be too long." he said, taking her hand and kissing her fingers. She stood, and turned seeing Milla rise as well before lowering down and placing her mouth to Berin's ear.

"Retiring for the night, your grace?" she looked back to see Falgon standing behind her. How does he do that? To know when he is needed, and when not? Came the thought, and she smiled.

"Yes. I'm afraid our recent activity has ravaged me." she said blushing, and he bowed; ready to escort her back to the hold. She turned again to see Berin rising to his feet while emptying the horn in his hand and replacing it on the table and then holding his arm for Milla. They left the table, and Falgon glimpsed the many small glasses lined of different shades, a sense of uneasiness sinking deeper. Together, the four of them walked the cobblestone pathway back to Mount Ardor, bright torches illuminating the massive gate on both sides. They entered the Hall of Fire and made their way up to the second level where Berin bid Milla a peaceful evening with a gentle kiss; and Claira paused.

"Lord Berin, may I ask a favour of you?" he turned, and bowed to her formally.

"Of course, my lady. Anything." for a moment she stood fumbling her cold fingers together.

"Keep an eye on my lord husband for me." she asked.

"Is something troubling you, my lady?" he seemed confused.

"I'm a little concerned." she confessed, but he smiled.

"I will. But don't worry, he'll be fine. Sleep well, lady Claira." he greeted.

"Good night, lord Berin. And thank you." she returned, and he left back down the stairway to return to the festival while she ascended to the lord's wing with Falgon following. She opened the door to enter their chambers while he remained in the hallway; and she looked back at him.

"Good night, ser Falgon." he seemed different than usual, and then he raised his eyes to meet hers.

"Your grace… If you need to, come to me." he said softly, and she turned to face him.

"Is something wrong, Falgon?" she asked, and a short thoughtful silence followed before he breathed in and looked down the long hallway.

"No, I hope not. I just don't trust the atmosphere, that's all. People, especially men, sometimes lose themselves with their senses." then he looked back at her.

"When there's a flow like there has been for the past few days, it's something else that controls them, not their own minds" he said, and she tried to make sense of the words.

"I don't understand." she said, slightly shaking her head.

"And I'm hoping you won't need to." he said, and then she sighed.

"Well, good night then, Falgon." she greeted again, and he bowed to her.

"Sleep well, your grace." he returned, and she gently shut the door. He remained for another moment before returning to the barracks. She ascended the stairway to seek out a light gown for the night, and returned to the bath chamber. She removed her dress, and stepped into the steaming water to where it touched her waist and felt the warm fountain spilling over her skin where she remained for a time as the scent of vanilla soaked into her skin before cleansing herself and redressing. She departed the bath chamber and returned to the lord's chamber, and as she entered she glimpsed a figure standing on the balcony overlooking the eastern fields, the cloak and leather doublet already discarded on one of the dressers.

"Raeghun?" the shadow turned, and he smiled at her. Blue eyes shining like the stars. He made his way to her, then wrapped his arms securely around her.

"What would I do without you?" he whispered, and imagined he could feel her smiling against him. Then in a moment of whimsy, he moved forward and pressed her gently against the wall; raising her hands above her head and holding them there so she would look the way she did when she was dancing with the Mau's. He lowered himself and pressed his mouth to her throat, feeling the gentle pulse.

"My love, I'm sore tonight." He pulled back, and looked at her.

"You didn't look sore earlier." He mentioned, blue eyes searching her.

"I've just started feeling it a little while ago." She said, then he smiled as he released her hands from his, and wove the fingers of his free hand into her hair and her cold fingers wrapped around his wrist.

"Al right." He leaned forward again, to place his lips against hers. The sensation brought the feeling of warmth through him, and the world evaporated into a red fog with black shadows darting across his field of vision and he was left standing alone in the bloodshot haze. There were voices all around him, laughing and cursing and whispering and screaming; some in pain some in fear some in anger. He could hear her voice, somewhere far off in the distance and she was calling to him. He walked forward through the crimson mist that now covered every inch of his world, the shadows incessant in their frolic and torment. His wife called to him again, more urgent and he walked again knowing that he had to find her; somewhere in this hellish marshland she too, was left alone. He heard her again, the insistence that she was alone and unprotected somewhere where he could not see drove him forward while the voices around him churned in his ears and forcing a dull ache to his skull. She called again, and the fire rushing through his veins moments ago turned cold as ice as he recognized the tone as fear. She was alone. She was alone, and unprotected and scared. He rushed forward, searching but there was nothing around him save for the crimson cloud and the dark shadows, and their irritating screeches. For a moment he stopped, and looked around not knowing if he'd even moved at all; and then a face came at him, dark and screaming with mouth agape and deep voids where eyes would have met him and long grey hair fluttering behind it. As the face approached the wailing scream died out and he could hear his name, loud and frightened and penetrating as the face swept inside of him and the haze around him shattered and the world returned to him. Blue eyes looked at him, bright and glimmering as a single tear ran down her face, and lips parted in small ragged breaths. His eyes focused to see Claira's stripped body beneath him and his hands gripped strongly around her wrists, blood smeared on her thighs. Horrifying shock struck him like a blade through his chest. Oh gods, what have I done? He released her and sat back, hauling himself backwards until his back rested against the wall. She sat up, still watching him. The thought sickened him, and his hand closed over his mouth and his eyes shut, forcing back a wave of nausea. He breathed in deeply, and let the air from his lungs slowly before opening his eyes again and looking at her.

"I'm sorry… I'm sorry… Claira, I'm so sorry… please forgive me…" he whispered, then she came to him and put her arms around him.

"It's al right. It's al right, you just scared me that's all." She said softly, and his hand found her face.

"What have I done? What have I done to you?" he asked in a voice laced with regret.

"Nothing. You haven't done anything to me." He looked at her in confusion.

"But… What I saw…" she managed a smile.

"Raeghun, that wasn't you." She assured, and for a moment he felt less horrified laying his head against her shoulder and taking several easier breaths.

"If anything like this ever happens again, I want you to take a knife, or a fork, or a quill; or anything else you can find and stab me with it until I'm dead… or come to my senses." He took her arm and pressed his face against it, feeling the cool of her skin calm the flames that tore at him. They remained there for another moment, then she pulled back from him.

"Come, let us sleep. Tomorrow is the last day of the festival." she urged, and he nodded before standing.

Morning came, and the festival grounds were alive with people fully enjoying what was left of this blissful and bountiful time. Raeghun woke early and went to meet with maester Adlyn; Milla stood scanning Claira's wardrobe while her other two handmaidens started on the chores of the lord's chamber.

"Any wishes for your appearance today, my lady?" Milla asked, looking through the dresses.

"The black and blue dress, with the golden leaves." she replied, and Milla brought it from the wardrobe. A long flowing hooded dress of onyx black with decorated elbow ribbons, and ocean blue running down the front of the dress with delicate leaves embroidered in gold-thread across the blue of the skirt. She brought it to the bed and laid it out before proceeding to a dresser to choose out a set of adornment to match the dress.

"May I suggest the pearl and azurite, my lady?" she asked as she took the necklace of sparkling pearls with a centre pendant set with a flawless blue sphere from a wooden box and turned.

"Yes, that would compliment it well." Claira agreed, and then stood from her seat on the chest at the foot of the bed to discard her nightgown. Milla stood watching her patiently, the way her hands slowly pulled the lace from the front of the bodice to loosen the fabric; the long light sleeves dropped down to her elbows, then Milla turned her attention to the handmaidens.

"Leave us." she commanded, and they left the room. Milla approached Claira, searching her face.

"What happened?" she asked softly, and Claira turned to her in surprise, and a moment of silence followed as she stared at her in confusion.

"Nothing happened, Milla." she finally said, and then Milla took her hands looking down at the rings of slight discolouration around her wrists.

"Did… did lord Raeghun do this?" she asked again, and Claira pulled away gently.

"He didn't do anything to me. My husband will never hurt me…" she smiled gently, acknowledging the fact.

"He couldn't if he tried." then her eyes went to the open door overlooking the eastern fields.

"He just stared at me, like his body was there and he wasn't. And that scared me even more… that he didn't, or couldn't respond to me." she finished, and Milla glanced at her wrists again.

"Then how did this happen?" Claira looked back at her.

"It was by accident. I took his hands so we could go to bed together, but as I passed him I stepped on the seam of my dress; ripping it and falling backwards, he went down with me. Although he was… elsewhere, he retained a certain level of control over his body, not falling onto me. Only his hands onto my arms." she explained, and then Milla nodded.

"I see. But perhaps you should go to see maester Adlyn as well, have him give you an ointment or an oil." she suggested, and Claira nodded.

"I'll go see him later, I think he's rather busy this morning." she agreed.

Raeghun stood watching the outside world from the little window in maester Adlyn's tower as he blended a selection of herb extracts, some honey and a sprinkle of powder into a bottle before sealing it with a wax lid and shaking it in his hand.

"Is there anything else, my lord?" he asked looking up at Raeghun.

"No." he replied, his voice dry and toneless; and Adlyn nodded still watching him. He saw his eyes cast down to the lower frame of the window.

"This should still the unease, my lord. You may return to me, should you require more." Adlyn said as he stood and came to Raeghun, and presented the little bottle to him, but he didn't turn to take it. The maester waited patiently, and then Raeghun sighed.

"I lost myself, last night..." he confessed softly.

"In what sense, my lord?" Adlyn asked, secretly curious.

"I'm not sure, it's hard to explain. I was with my wife, for a time I saw nothing but red mist and shadows... when this world returned to me, it seems I attacked her..." he said, and the maester nodded sympathetically.

"I don't believe that is the case, my lord." he had to disagree, and then Raeghun looked at him.

"I don't know what I did. She insists that I did not harm her, but I could have... I could have..." he couldn't bring himself to utter the words.

"But you didn't, my lord." Maester Adlyn implored, and then smiled.

"Despite it having been an arranged marriage, you love lady Claria endlessly; even the blind can see. You would never do anything to harm her." he assured, bringing a light smile to the lord's face.

"Thank you, maester. For your aid, and for your words." he said, taking the vial. He removed the wax cap, and swallowed the liquid; handing the bottle back before leaving to ensure that the hold was in order. The day passed slower than normal, perhaps drawn-out from the many wishes for this last day to remain as long as could be permitted. After sharing a mid-day meal of potato and cabbage soup, with freshly baked bread, parsley sprinkled cream cheese and preserve tarts and custard. With it a drink of aged coconut milk. After which, Claira returned to the lord's wing to redress for the remainder of the festival while Milla readied herself in her quarters. Claira emerged from their chambers, finding Falgon awaiting her in the hallway. He looked the same as he always did – presentably protected, dark hair hanging loosely down to his shoulders and dressed in brown leather breeches, boots that reached to his knees, a faded white shirt under mail armour concealed by a brown doublet and his earth shaded cloak around his shoulders with the sentinel pin fastened on the left side, the hilt of Summit protruding above his right shoulder, held in place by a chest belt. Unlike most swords, his had no sheath due to its great length; it was gripped by two hooks upon which the cross guard rested, he could easily draw it when he needed to. The image flashed in her mind that he stepped from the same portrayal each morning.

"Departing for the festival, your grace?" he asked as he bowed to her.

"Almost. I need to see maester Adlyn first." he raised his hand towards the maester's tower so she could lead the way. He accompanied her up the tower steps to the maester's chamber, and then the maester smiled as they entered.

"Good day, my lady. Ser Falgon." he greeted them, and Falgon bowed his head.

"Good day, maester. I shall be returning the books I borrowed to you soon." he notified, and the maester came over to them.

"There's no rush. How may I be of service?" he asked.

"Her grace requires your attention. I've had no qualms." he said, and then turned to Claira.

"I shall await you in the hallway, if it please you." she nodded, and he left again down the stairs; the maester watching as he left.

"Where did you find this man, my lady? He is truly captivating. If not for his humanity, I would cage and study him." he mentioned, and Claira's eyes went to him.

"Really? What is it about him that you find so interesting?" she asked.

"For one thing, his manner of speaking is completely different from ours. I would dare to say it is older. Much older." he mentioned, and she glanced back at the empty doorway.

"I understand that he was quite the wanderer. You adapt from travels, I'm sure." she said, and the maester's hand went to his chain as if he was in thought.

"It's more than just the odd phrase here and there. But what captured me, was the brand on his chest." he said turning and going back to his desk.

"What about it? Some cities in Essos brand slaves." Claira said as she followed him.

"Was Falgon a slave?" Adlyn asked as he looked up at her.

"I don't know, I never asked. He didn't tell you?" he shook his head.

"He doesn't know. In any case, I can't imagine it. And I know all the slavers brands; this is something completely different." he mentioned, glancing down at an open book displaying long writings and some strange images. She shrugged.

"Well, I'm sure you'll figure it out. By the way, why was he here?" she asked, suddenly curious.

"Just a burning sensation on the scar tissue; nothing a little milkweed and honey won't ease. But he's a healthy man, there are no signs of infections, diseases, allergies, or any kind of negative effects at all… of any kind. His insusceptibility is stone solid." he said, and then returned his attention to her.

"So, what ails you, my lady?" he asked, ready to lend his help, and she stepped closer.

"Something small, I hope." she extended her hands to him to display the discoloured bands around her wrists, then he took her hands and brought them closer to inspect it.

"Slight bruising to the skin, but no deep tissue damage." he looked up at her as he released her hands.

"It should be gone by tomorrow morning. But I will give you a balm for any pain." he said and turned to his stores.

"There is no pain, maester." she said as he rummaged through his wares.

"It will help to conceal the appearance as well." he said taking a small vessel from the shelf and bringing it to her.

"Thank you, maester. Will you be joining us for the last day of the festival?" she asked, and he smiled.

"No, my lady. I find festivals bothersome. I quite prefer my tower." he declined, and she nodded.

"Very well. Enjoy your tower, maester." he laughed.

"Enjoy the festival, my lady. Please do return to me tomorrow morning, just to ensure that the bruising has faded." he said, and she agreed before leaving. On her way down the steps she quickly applied the balm to her wrists before replacing the long sleeves of her dress; she found her sentinel waiting at the bottom of the stairs.

"Is everything in order, your grace?" he asked as he turned to face her, and she smiled at him.

"Yes, thank you ser Falgon." she replied.

"Please don't refer to me as 'ser', your grace. I'm not a knight." he corrected, and she tilted her head.

"And I'm not a queen, so you don't need to refer to me as 'your grace'." she teased back, but he remained smiling.

"You are my queen, your grace." he said, she turned away from him slightly.

"And so, you are my knight, ser Falgon." she returned, and then made her way back to the lord's wing to put away the ointment while he followed; again awaiting her at the doorway. They met with others in the Hall of Fire, Milla stood in front of the great hearth. She had decided on a flowing dress of violet purple, with a lilac centre piece and light long sleeves, decorated with nightshade blossoms embroidered on the bodice, and silver-thread hemlines; a silver ribbon hugging the front. Berin and Raeghun came from the southern hall, in woollen breeches, boots, white shirts and quilted doublets in the house colours. From Berin's shoulders hung his cloak of navy blue lined with bright red, the colours of his father, his own sentinel pin fastened to the left side. They approached up the grand stairway.

"You look lovely." Berin complimented as he took Milla's hand and kissed her fingertips. Raeghun received his wife in the same manner, and from there they returned to the merriment of the festival as night settled in over the lands; the fire and torches already burning brightly. As they followed the little pathway to settle in at the tables, Falgon stopped, and glimpsed a black wagon hidden away in the shadows. He hadn't seen it arrive; but didn't trust the unannounced appearance, or the fact that it arrived after dark, and it was attempted to conceal its presence.

"You al right?" Gavin asked as he came up to him, and he looked back.

"I'm fine. I suppose I'm a bit uneasy. The festival has gone this far without serious incidents, and normally the joy doesn't last." He replied, again glancing at the shadow.

"You need another horn, my friend. Your duties have made you paranoid." Gavin insisted, and Falgon breathed in deep, hoping that Gavin was right and that these shadows were only playing with his senses.

Inside the black wagon, three men sat speaking with a young woman in their foreign tongue. She wrung her hands together nervously.

"Pick out your targets carefully, and strike when the festival reaches its peak, people will be drunk and distracted. You will only have this small opening of opportunity; by midnight you must be gone." she said softly, eyes cast down at the wood flooring.

"We'll have good pickings this time, the festival is ripe." one of the men laughed, her eyes went to him.

"Don't be careless." she said, fearing the consequences. Another of the men stood and approached her.

"You just do your part." he said, their eyes meeting.

"And then you'll release my sister?" she asked hopefully, and he grinned; placing a hand to her cheek.

"Once we have enough, we'll leave her in a safe place." he assured.

"When?" she asked again, and he pulled back.

"When we have enough." he said, and then motioned to the little door behind her.

"Now go. The night won't wait." he instructed, then she turned and left. She made her way through the people, heading back to the wagon train, eyes cast down at the ground attempting to avoid contact with those around her and hiding the reddening of her eyes as tears escaped the corners. Her hands went to her face to wipe them away. It has been close to a full year that these people followed them with promises to return her sister to her unharmed, with the condition that she helped them acquire people to deliver to the slave cities of Essos. It was the only thing holding her to this, those many promises that might or might not be kept. Hope is a fickle thing, but never destroyed; and the hope that her sister was kept close, and further promises that she was safe made her push forward. She was the only person she had in this world, since the age of ten and six they were left to face the world alone; and she raised her sister who had barely gone into her tenth year. They joined The Dancing Mau's and could somehow manage to keep one another strong until her sister was taken on a warm day in Sunspear during a performance. She was taken from a market stall while purchasing food for the Mau's, and in her desperation to retrieve her sister, she was given the option to surrender the only family she had left, or to surrender herself to them in acquiring new prisoners; and she found herself agreeing to the latter. Twenty years of her life had gone, one spent in a different form of slavery... Her hands went to her face again, and in her rush to reach the wagon train, she slammed into something hard. She looked up to see a tall man in a cloak of brown.

"Sorry. No see." she managed in broken common, but he smiled gently.

"Are you al right?" he asked, and she looked down to hide her eyes.

"Yes. My lion sick. I worry." she said, and he looked towards their stands.

"I'm sure he's just sad, having to remain in his cage. He'll be fine." he assured, and she nodded.

"Yes. I go." she said, and then passed him heading to the wagon train. Falgon watched as she walked to the wagons, finding it odd that she came from the opposite direction; but decided to let it go for now. Deep night set in while the people sated their thirst and indulged in the many offerings of foods laid out on the tables, enjoying once again the performance the exotic group presented; and the men from the black wagon emerged, scanning the people of the festival. They wandered around, staying hidden by the shadows and chose a count of seven to seize, and then one of the men hauled another closer, pointing.

"Look at those two. We'll get a good price off them, especially the one with the odd hair. Someone will pay a large sum for such features." he said, indicating two women, one in blue and black with hair the shade of midnight marbled with the colour of the stars, and another in garments of light purple and silver-thread. The other hunched down, studying them and mulling over the possibilities.

"That we will. But look at that." he said, indicating the others around them. Men of refinement, tall and proud.

"We'll have to watch them carefully; wait until they're alone." he decided, and the other leaned closer to him, grinning in excitement.

"We can take them last, and must then make sure that we vanish without delay to avoid a warm trail. I'll be sure to keep a close eye on them." he said, and proceeded to shadow their movements.

They sat at the tables as the night and its rich entertainment and joyous atmosphere continued, enjoying the display of dancers and fire breathers, then Milla leaned over to Claira.

"I'm feeling a bit thirsty, I'm heading over to the Banded Cherry. Would you like something, my lady?" she asked, and Claira smiled.

"Just the usual, thank you Milla." she said, and Milla stood to pay a visit to Syla, then vanished through the throngs of people. Time passed while the young man and his beast of white and black stripes drew lively applaud and cheers from the citizens, and a serving girl from the stand came to the table, bearing a tray of liqueurs. Berin approached from the amidst the crowd.

"Pardon me, my lady. Have you seen Milla? I can't find her." he said, seeming worried, and she looked in the direction she was last seen.

"She was with me a while ago; she went to visit Syla. I'll just head up and have a look." she said standing up; Falgon approached her.

"Shall I accompany you, your grace?" he asked, and she smiled at him.

"That's not necessary; it's not far and I won't be long." she assured, and headed off to The Banded Cherry. Falgon stood watching her.

"Falgon?" Berin came up to him, the threads of unease pulling tighter around his chest.

"Something is not right. Come." he decided, and then followed, remaining out of sight. Claira walked up the little path towards the large stand, seeing Syla busy stirring the great cauldron behind her. She stopped in front of the table, and glanced around at the different smiling faces passing her, and then turned her attention to the woman.

"Good evening, Syla." she greeted, and the woman turned smiling.

"Good evening, my beautiful lady. Am I right to assume you have come to claim your evening serving?" she asked merrily as she came forward and reached below the table to bring the wooden goblets from below her table. Claira raised her hand.

"Thank you, Syla. But I've come to ask, have you seen my court maiden? The lady that normally visits you with me. She was to come see you a little earlier." she said, and the woman looked at her, trying to remember.

"I have not, milady." she said, placing the goblets on the table.

"The last time I did, was when she passed by here with you." she added, and Claira looked away at the festival grounds.

"Al right. Thank you, Syla. I may visit you again a bit later." she said and then left down the little path again. She stopped for a moment, next to a large wagon; placing her hand on the wheel and leaning slightly to relieve a sudden spasm in her stomach. She breathed in deep, and let the air go slowly, waiting as the pain slowly subsided before rising again. She stood for a while, wondering. She glanced back at the burning mountain, set on the high hill with its many torches lighting the massive walls and blinking in the night. Milla would not have returned to the hold without telling anyone, and if the Mau's had claimed her for another dance they would have seen her. Syla had not seen her, and Berin is unable to locate her. Her eyes darted through the many faces savouring the night, far off in the distance surrounding the circle; and she did not realize that the world around her grew increasingly silent and bereft of people. Where is she? Her eyes wandered the space over the fields, the festival and its people, and then went up to the deep black sky with its many stars. It must have been close to midnight. I should return to the tables. She decided, and her hand slid from the wheel to move forward, just as harsh hands grabbed her from behind, one around her arms and waist while a hard gloved hand clasped over her mouth and nose, inhibiting her breathing and keeping her from screaming, and then dragged her away into the darkness. She kicked and writhed, desperately attempting to release herself from the grip, but then the arms tightened crushing her body against a hard frame, and sudden warm breaths flowed over er right ear.

"Quiet. No movement." the voice of a man ordered, and she felt her body tremble in fear. The hands moved her further back, away from the light and her eyes closed, wishing that she'd made a different decision.

"Release her." came a hard and comforting voice, and her eyes opened to see the tall silhouette illuminated by firelight, the hilt of a sword above his right shoulder, and she could feel the body behind her grow tense.

"You want back? You buy back." the voice behind her said in broken common, and the figure in front of them took a step forward.

"I don't make deals with threats." he said, his hand rising to find the grip of his sword, and he stepped forward again.

"Now release her." he commanded, releasing the blade from his back. In a moment of desperation the man behind her drew a dagger from his belt, and held it to Claira's throat; the hand over her face gripping tighter. With her hands now free, they went to the arm to try and relieve the pressure, allowing a degree of air to reach her lungs; but the man stepped back hauling her with him.

"You move, she die!" he threatened.

"I won't allow that to happen. If I sound an alarm, every guard within a hundred yards will descend upon you. Now I will demand from you a final time, release her." he said, his voice calm and even, bringing a slight ease to Claira's shuddering body. In the darkness, Falgon's eyes went up to see another shadow approach from behind the wagon. He raised the sword in front of him, hoping that the gesture will bring the dagger away from the lady's throat and towards him in another threat; and it worked. The man pointed the dagger towards him.

"You back, she go." he said, a slight tremor to his voice; and then a hard fist found the ribs on his left side, driving the air from his lungs and the strength from his arm; and Claira slipped from his grasp, rushing forward towards Falgon. The man lay on the ground, gasping in pain as Berin took hold of the leather neckline of his armour. Falgon's hands went around her shoulders.

"Have you been harmed, your grace?" she shook her head against him, breathing hard.

"Please, go to your husband." he urged, and after a moment she left to find him. Berin slammed the man into the wall of the wagon.

"A threat on the lady of Mount Ardor's life, is an instant death sentence. Who are you, and who sent you?" Berin demanded, judging him for an assassin in light black leather armour.

"I serve none." the man breathed.

"He's a slaver." Falgon said as he approached, Summit already replaced on his back.

"A slaver, eh? Slavery has been outlawed from Westeros for thousands of years." Berin said looking back.

"Unfortunately, that doesn't stop the trade. The masters pay well for foreigners, and the more exotic the appearance the higher the price that is demanded." Falgon said, looking at the man; and Berin returned his attention to the man.

"Did you have any consideration of what the price of this would have been?" he said, glimpsing a war in his mind. Thousands died when Robert's Rebellion broke out, and it all started because lady Lyanna Stark was taken by Raeghar Targaryen; how many millions more could have walked that same path because a slaver delivered lady Claira Taugere to a slave master of Essos, and he refused to return her?

"How many of you are here?" Berin demanded.

"We four." the man said, and then Berin looked back at Falgon.

"Lord Raeghun must be told. There will likely be others that have already been taken." and then the thought struck him.

"Lady Milla must have been taken as well." he finally made sense of it.

"Let us not disturb the festival if it is not necessary. I will request that lord Raeghun accompany me here." Falgon paused for a moment.

"The lion binder of the Mau's knew of this." he added, and then looked back at Berin.

"Stay here, I will return with lord Raeghun." he said and then turned to leave. He rounded the corner of the wagon and headed down the pathway towards the festival, and then saw the lord approaching with three additional sentinels following, Edur among them.

"What happened?" he asked softly as they met, and Falgon bowed his head.

"If you will, sire. Come." he urged, and then turned to return to Berin. They remained concealed by the wagon from the eyes of the festival, questioning the slaver and gathering that several people have already been seized; the lady was their last target before they would have made their escape to a larger group waiting some miles away to deliver their shipment to a pirate waiting off the shores of Cape Kracken below the Flint Cliffs. Raeghun sent the sentinels to find the remaining of the slavers, who were quickly brought before them. Three sat bound on the ground before him.

"He said there were four." Berin mentioned, and looked at Falgon.

"The lion binder makes them four." he said softly, and Raeghun demanded to know where their people were being kept; anxious for the answer; and then Falgon looked back. He nudged Berin's arm with his elbow.

"Follow me." he said, and then turned; making his way to a shadow hidden in the dark, Berin following with a torch. They reached the black wagon, and Berin lighted the door with the light of the fire; a large padlock secured the door to the wagon frame; and there was no key.

"I could try to pick it, but I'm afraid that skill has not been whetted for some time." Berin said, and Falgon reached for his sword.

"Let's not take our time, shall we? Stand aside, lord Berin." he said, raising the sword high above him. He brought it down hard, the wind singing off the edges of the blade as it passed through the weaker bolts holding the lock to the wood; and for a single moment Berin again admired his friend's skill with the massive sword. The accuracy of the strike was nothing short of inhuman, and the lock fell to the ground with a clang. Berin opened the door and scanned inside, finding at least five girls and two young boys all bound and silenced by rags. He moved closer, and in the corner could make out the glint of a violet dress. He turned back and handed to torch to Falgon.

"Call the others." he instructed, and Falgon summoned several guards passing nearby; who hurried over to help release the prisoners. Berin shuffled his way into the wagon while the others were gently taken from the wagon and released from their bonds, his hands touched the figure and she looked up at him; her eyes glinting in unimaginable relief. He hurried to release her hands from a tightly bound rope, and then cut more bonds from her feet while her arms moved up to remove the rag from her face before wrapping her arms around him and breathing against him; his body enveloped hers.

"Berin! I was so scared... I was so scared!" she cried against him, and he did what he could to comfort her.

"It's al right, you're safe now." he assured, and took her from the darkness of the wagon. They brought her back to the safety of the crowded festival grounds where she could rejoin Claira, with Gavin at her side; Berin instructed him to escort them both back to the safety of the burning mountain, and then returned to lord Raeghun who had the lion binder brought before him, and questioned her while three sentinels stood in attendance. She voiced that the group she travelled with knew nothing of what she did, and wished that it remain so. She looked down at the ground.

"People's lives have been destroyed, families left broken; all for an extra pouch of coin." Raeghun said.

"I no get coin, lord." she said softly, and Raeghun looked up at Falgon.

"If I may, sire. This was an act of desperation, not greed. Perhaps, ask the girl why before resorting to alternate methods." he suggested, and then looked back.

"If it please you sire, I will ensure that her grace has been delivered to the hold safely." he added, and Raeghun nodded. Berin took a step towards him.

"I will join you. I must ensure that Milla has not been traumatised from this night." he said, and they too left for Mount Ardor. Raeghun looked at the woman, and then at the sentinels.

"Leave me with her." he instructed, and they moved away. He stepped closer.

"I will adhere to my sentinel's counsel; and give you this opportunity to speak to me freely, and give you my word that my judgement will be fair. Is there something you wish to say?" he asked softly, and saw her hands rise to her face as she cried.

"I no want... I no want, I must... They take her... They take Calla... They promise... They promise they give her back if I help..." she sobbed, and he felt empathy towards her. Her bloodshot eyes came up to meet his.

"They have my sister..." she said, and he again softened.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I understand. We will do all that we can to help you get Calla back. The slavers said that a larger group is waiting for them to join them, with the circumstances I will send three of my most trusted sentinels with a party of guards to capture them; and I wish for you to accompany them. I will speak with Master Blue, and give them instructions that you are not to be harmed. Find your sister, and return to your family." he said, and she fell down on her knees.

"Thank you... Thank you... Thank you..." she sobbed further, and then he held his hand to help her up. She took it, hand shivering.

"And now I have a final request of you. When you reunite with your sister, keep each other safe; and train your lion well." he said smiling, and without a thought she threw herself against him, her arms wrapping around his powerful body and squeezing.

"Thank you... Thank you... I will..." she promised, and then his hands found her shoulders, gently pushing her back.

"Al right. Off you go now." he said, and she spun around and left. He shook his head. Poor girl... He ventured off to set in place the preparations for his promise.

Falgon ascended the incline to the lord's wing after leaving Berin in the Hall of Fire with Milla, and found Claira at the door bidding Gavin a peaceful remainder of the evening.

"My pardon for interrupting you, your grace. I wished to ensure that you are unharmed." he said bowing to her, and she turned to Gavin.

"You may leave us." she said, and he returned the gesture before making his way down the hallway. Falgon studied her as she watched the shadow disappear around the bend.

"Are you al right? Have you been injured?" he asked, and her eyes found him suddenly like the sun exploding from the horizon.

"Thank you, Falgon. You've saved me again. And not just me, so many others." he smiled gently.

"No thanks is needed, your grace. I merely did what I was supposed to do." he said, and she looked down.

"No, it's more than that. Much more..." she stepped forward, and leaned against him gently.

"Thank you, so much..." she whispered, and his arms went around her gently; feeling a burn to his skin where it touched her.

"I've told you once before, that I will never allow any harm to come to you, so long as I breathe." he said softly, and then gently pressed her tighter to him before releasing her. She looked up at him, and he bowed to her.

"Sleep well, your grace." he greeted.

"Good night, ser Falgon." she returned, and then retreated to the safety of the lord's wing. He stood for a moment, and then left again down the hallway back to the barracks. Berin sat in front of the fireplace, staring at the flames.

"I owe you my thanks, Falgon. If not for your adept awareness, many things would have been sent straight to oblivion tonight." he said, and then looked back at his friend as he stood up.

"Milla is shaken, but otherwise unharmed. I've been trying to make sense of you for a while now, you have a proficient capacity to recognise peril, something that only comes with years of experience." he said, and Falgon shrugged.

"I've wandered the known world for some time, Berin. You learn from yourself as much as you do from others, and when something feels out of place, it usually is. Your senses alone can tell you enough should you need to react, but there is a fine line between being psychotic, and being prepared." he said, and Berin placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Then I am thankful to every god there is, that you are the latter. You've been a great blessing to this hold, and despite your former occupation, am happy that you have joined us." he said, and Falgon smiled back at him.

"I wouldn't change a thing, and eventually I will turn to dust within these walls." he said.