Chapter 47: Your Prince is in Another Castle
After a long, frightening day, all Lean wanted to do was lay down and go to sleep, but something was bothering her. She let her maids help her into her bed clothes, even as her mind slowly worked over the day's events. The death of Oberyn Martell was tragic, and though she hadn't really cared for the man, he was important to Dust and thus Lean mourned with her best (and only) friend. In fact, it was something about what Dust has said that was bothering Lean.
"My manhood," Lean muttered to herself, making her maid freeze in place.
"Pardon, Your Highness?" the maid squeaked.
"Oh, no, it's just something Dust said to me," Lean said. Her maid curtsied, finishing putting Lean in her nightgown, then left. As she did, Lean gasped, her tired mind finally coming to a realization.
"Varys was the one who told Dust to beware of the Red Priests! The Red Priests burned his manhood! He's not the traitor, it's someone else!"
Lean flew out of her nightgown, pulling on one of her peasant dresses she had stashed away, as one could dress in those without help. She was just about ready to go when she sensed someone entering her room. She spun about crying, "Dust, it wasn't-"
"I am not Dust, child," a voice with a soft Essosi accent slurred. "But I came to bring you to him. He has found something."
The woman from before, the one who had been with Lord Baelish, stepped into Lean's room through a hidden passage behind her bed.
Lean's eyes went wide. Essosi accent. Brothel. Whore. Meeting with Oberyn. She pointed a finger at the woman, and the tip of it glowed in the dim light with sudden power.
"Lord Varys wasn't the one who killed Lord Martell. It was you," Lean snarled. This was Mel, the woman who had said she had been meeting Oberyn Martel at one of Lord Baelish's brothels. Lean might be naive, but she could read between the lines.
The red headed woman did not shy away at the red light, simply cocking her head to one side. "A dreadful accusation to make, child. I assure you, I was not the one to kill Lord Oberyn."
Lean hesitated, wondering for a brief moment if she had been wrong. Which was when the woman struck, darting forward to grab at Lean. She let out a cry, firing off a bolt of flame with a word. The woman simply grabbed the flame in one hand, catching it and extinguishing it. She hissed out words in a language Lean did not know while smoke billowed from her mouth.
Lean didn't waste time fighting. She didn't know anything about fighting, and the advantage of her magic was clearly eliminated by the Red Priestess' powers. Lean scampered around the woman, darting for the balcony. She leapt to the nearby roof, scrambling along on all fours. She took a hasty glance over her shoulder, but after one look, the Red Priestess went back into Lean's chambers.
A few minutes later, Lean was in Dust's room.
"Dust, Dust! Where are you!?" Lean gasped. She looked around wildly, but the room was empty. Then she spied Dust's spear leaning on the wall. He never went anywhere without his spear or another weapon. It was like it was a part of him. Lean growled and went to the door, only to hear shouts and fighting. She gasped in horror, then rushed back out the window and across several balconies.
Fearing she was too late, Lean burst into her mother's chambers, finding the queen already in bed. "MOM! MOM WAKE UP, RED PRIESTS AND KIDNAPPERS ARE HERE AND DUST IS GONE!"
The queen jerked upright, face pale in the darkness as she gaped at Lean, who was cupping a flame in her hands as a makeshift torch.
"Lean? Child, what is-"
The door slammed open, and two knights of house Florent stormed in. "My lady, the Princess-"
"Is right here," Selyse said coldly, holding her blankets up to cover herself. "What is the meaning of all this?"
"The Martells, they've betrayed us," one of the knights gasped. "We just received a warning. We thought they were trying to kidnap the Princess."
"It's not the Martells, it's Petyr Baelish!" Lean shouted, jumping between her mother and the men and letting the flame in her hands grow as if to ward them off. "He's the one who murdered Oberyn Martell!"
"I'm afraid that's not the case," a new voice, familiar and comforting, declared as Davos Seaworth strode in. "I just spoke with Lord Baelish, and he showed me the most damning documents. If the Red Priests did kill Prince Oberyn, they did us a favor. House Martell planned to betray us, and kidnap you, Princess Lean."
"What!? No, that's crazy, Dust is my friend!" Lean argued.
"I'm afraid he is not," Davos sighed, running a hand through his thinning hair. "Men, let the queen get dressed. We have much to do tonight."
Lean stayed with her mother and not waiting for servants frantically shoved her into a gown. They found Davos in the waiting room, along with the man Lean least wanted to see.
"TRAITOR!" Lean roared, conjuring up a fresh ball of flame. "Where is Dust! What did you do with him!?"
"I wish I knew. It seems the Prince has evaded us," Baelish said, taking half a step back and eyeing Lean warily. "I was just going through his and the Spider's documents. It seems the Dornish planned to betray the Crown, in favor of Iris Targaryen. I do not know if Red Priests are involved, though that seems unlikely. How and why Lord Oberyn was murdered, I do not know."
"I have seen the letters, my lady," Davos said, coming forward to put a fatherly hand on Lean's shoulder. "It is true. The Martells planned to betray the King, and kidnap you. You were to be married to Prince Dust, but only so they could seize Storms End. Varys was a part of the plot as well."
"How and why Prince Oberyn was murdered is unknown, but Prince Dust has vanished. We are seizing the Martell men even now," Baelish said smoothly.
"Accursed Dornishmen, we should have known they would betray us," the Queen hissed. She looked over at Lean, and sudden compassion filled her face. "I know you were fond of the boy. His betrayal will wound, my dear, but fear not. We shall find you a better match."
"NO! Dust is my FRIEND! He's a hero, one of the Children of Destiny! How can you even say all this!?" Lean demanded.
"My daughter is weary from the long day. Return her to her chambers, and place a guard upon her," the queen ordered. "Have her handmaiden sleep with the girl, and ensure she makes no mischief."
"Why won't anyone listen to me!" Lean wailed, tears of frustration filling her eyes. But when Ser Davos picked her up, Lean couldn't find it in her heart to attack the kindly Hand.
"There there, Your Highness. You'll feel better in the morning, and we'll understand more then," Davos whispered.
Lean let herself be taken back to her chambers, but the moment she and her maid were alone, Lean pointed a finger at the woman. "Sleep."
With her maid unconscious, Lean took a moment to take a breath and stop and think. None of her household knights would listen to her. The Martell men might, but they were going to be carefully watched. Dust was clearly in danger, and she needed allies. Preferably big, strong meat heads like Dust was, who could help her against the Red Priestess Mel and Lord Baelish. Lord Varys? He would be helpful, but he was being held at the Sept of Baelor and getting him out would be near impossible.
Lean suddenly gasped in realization, and darted out of her window. She swung by the kitchens, grabbing some fresh bread, cheese, and wineskins in her disguise as a servant, and then made her way down to the Black Cells.
"Who is it?" a voice rasped as Lean practically tumbled down the stairs.
"Dust has been kidnapped by Red Priests! Lord Baelish and the Red Priests murdered Dust's uncle and now they're going to murder him or cut off his manhood or something else horrible and I need you to help me free him!" Lean babbled as she ran up to Jory and Sandor's cells, tossing them the food and wine.
The two men took the food, blinking stupidly in the light of Lean's spell.
"Well, that's a problem," Jory finally said after taking a quick pull of the wine. He looked worn and haggard, though a bit less so thanks to the regular food Lean and Dust had been bringing the two men.
"Aye, I like the boy well enough, but why are you telling us this?" Sandor demanded around a mouthful of bread.
Lean inspected the locks, racking her brains. She should have tried stealing a key, but had no idea who had it or where they were. "Because I need you to help me rescue Dust, defeat the Red Priestess and Lord Baelish! No one else will believe me, they think Dust was going to betray me to Iris Targaryen and that Varys was the one who murdered Oberyn. Or something like that, I don't know, but I need your help!"
"I see," Jory said slowly. "My lady, you do realize who we are, do you not?"
"You're Jory Castel, and he's Sandor Clegane," Lean said absently. She pointed a finger at the first lock. "Stand back, I have an idea! Fireball!"
The men swore and jumped away from their cell doors as Lean poured flame into one, then another, making the locks grow red hot.
"Seven Hells, girl, in case you have forgotten? I'm sworn to Kazuma Baratheon, and that idiot's sworn to the Starks," Sandor growled.
"Yes, I know. Freezing Gust!" Lean watched as the locks rapidly cooled, the metal groaning as it did so.
"Well then, Your Highness, it follows that we're the sworn men of your enemies, does it not?" Jory pointed out.
"Will you help me save Dust?" Lean demanded.
The two men exchanged a look. "Well, maybe," Sandor said. "But we're not loyal to Stannis, that's for damn certain."
"If you save Dust, you go free. I don't care, you can go to the Westerlands or to the North and fight to avenge Kazuma there. All I care about is saving Dust," Lean declared. She ran over to the wall, grabbing two truncheons from a rack of equipment meant for torturing men. "Here, smash the locks! The metal should be brittle, that's what happens when you rapidly heat then cool it."
Sandor and Jory looked dubious, but a few solid blows did indeed shatter the metal locks, leaving the two men to exit their cells and loom over Lean.
"I think Dust is probably being held outside of the Keep, if he's still alive," Lean told them, trying very hard not to lick her lips in nervousness. "Oberyn was at a whorehouse near River Row, do you know of any other properties Baelish owns where he could keep Dust, or hid a Red Priestess?"
"You seem pretty damn sure we're going to help rescue one of our enemies, and not just kidnap you ourselves, or worse," Sandor snarled, bending down to look Lean in the eye.
She met his gaze fiercely. "Kazuma said you were a big softy that Myrcella had wrapped around her little finger. And the Starks are honorable: they'd never let a little boy be sacrificed to the Lord of Light even if he was their worst enemy. So I'm asking both of you: Please, help me save Dust. He's my best friend. My only friend."
"She's got you there, Clegane," Jory wheezed, shaking his head in amusement as he chuckled.
Sandor scowled, trying to look fierce. "Only a fool would be so honorable he'd help his enemies against someone." Then Sandor sobered, reaching a hand up to trace the scar on his face. "I felt the flames once myself. Dust is a good lad. I wouldn't let even my worst enemy be burned alive. And that boy is far from that."
"We're your men, Princess," Jory agreed. "We won't betray our oaths, but it is the duty of any of the Faithful to oppose the Red Priests. Let's go."
Heart pounding with joy and adrenaline, Lean helped Sandor and Jory sneak out with judicious use of her sleep spell. They raided the jailhouse armory, the men taking swords and leathers, then snuck out into the darkened streets.
"I... might have a fair idea of where the boy is being held," Sandor admitted as they ran along. "Baelish has a number of... ah, businesses, in the city."
"You can say brothels, I know what they are," Lean said, her face flushing red as she did so.
"Right, well. Anyway, I know a few girls, and they me. We can ask them. You know what this Red Priestess looks like?" Sandor demanded.
"She's Essosi, with bright red hair. Pretty, very tall, taller than you, Jory. I don't know how old she is, hard to tell."
"Always is with the witches," Sandor grumbled. "Sure we shouldn't tell the Brothers? They know how to hunt witches."
"They think it was Lord Varys, and there's no time! Besides, I'm a witch too," Lean pointed out.
"Don't say that, my Lady," Jory hissed in dire tones. "You are blessed by the Seven. The red witches use the vile magics of the Lord of Light. You are no witch."
That made Lean's tail wag happily. Maybe she had more friends than she thought.
The brothel Sandor took them too was just off the Hook, not far from the Red Keep. Sandor looked embarrassed, muttering, "never thought I'd take a bloody princess to a place like this," but pounded on the back door anyway.
A beautiful young woman with short dark hair opened the door. Her eyes went wide at seeing Sandor standing there in the torchlight. "Clegane?! But you-"
Sandor grabbed the woman, hauling her out into the street as she let out a squeak of panic. "No screams, Shae. It's me, yes. But look here. This is the Princess. I'm on a mission for the Seven themselves."
The whore's eyes went wide at seeing Lean, especially when she lifted her skirts slightly to show her tail. "Mr. Clegane is with me, along with Ser Castel. We're on the trail of Red Priests."
"I...I see, my lady," Shae the whore managed. Her eyes darted up to Clegane, and she licked her lips. "I thought... you seemed fond of the...um, of-"
"I'm not forswearing myself. Prince Kazuma is still my liege. Or King now, if he's still alive, and I'll hear nothing else. Boy was too lucky to die like that. Listen, Shae. Have you seen a woman, tall, Essosi, red hair?"
"Mel? Why yes, she's one of Lord Baelish's new favorites," Shae said, making a face. "He always did favor redheads, though she is a bit tall. Why?"
"Do you know where she is? Is she here?" Jory demanded.
"Well, no, this isn't a high class place, you should know that, Sandor," Shae said with a shake of her head. "She's probably at that manse Lord Baelish has for her, on the outskirts of the city. Why?"
"You're coming with us," Sandor ordered, dragging Shae away from the brothel. "We need to find her, and fast."
"But I-"
"If you help me save Dust, I'll make you one of my handmaidens. You'll not have to be a whore any longer. Maybe I'll even find you a knightly husband who doesn't ask questions of a beautiful bride," Lean promised. "I'll even give you a dowry."
That eliminated any and all objections that Shae might have had. "Of course, m'lady. Um, Your Highness? This way."
There was a mad dash across the city, though thankfully no one stopped the party. Shae led them to a manse near the Iron Gate, not far from the sea. The breeze was cooler here, and the streets were cleaner and wider. No streets in King's Landing had the human refuse one might expect if you'd read the original books, but that was because Ristarte had very strong opinions on sewage systems, and Hestia would have been deeply disappointed in anyone who littered, and very few people wanted to irritate two deities.
"That's the house," Shae whispered, pointing from an alley entrance to the manse, which was surrounded by a wrought iron gate. "It's where Mel and some of Baelish's favorites stay. Um, they have been taking certain young men and women there, and they're not always seen again...you don't think?"
"Do they burn fires there nightly?" Jory asked.
When Shae nodded mutely, Sandor let out a low growl. "You stay here and keep the lady safe, Shae. Jory and I will-"
"There's at least one Red Priestess in there, along with who knows what else. I'm not staying here," Lean huffed.
"Er, I'm with you, my lady. Not staying by meself if there's Red Priests running around. Madoka watch over us," Shae muttered.
"And Athena grant us strength," Jory agreed. "I can see at least two guards from here. How do we proceed?"
Biting her lip, Lean looked around, then nodded. "Right. Here's what we do."
Slowly, Dust crawled his way back to consciousness. When he managed to blink open his eyes, he found himself in a cool, damp place that was lit by softly glowing blue lights.
"Ah, you're awake, good, good. That shall make this much easier," a man chuckled, looking up for a cauldron he was working over.
Dust tried to move, but found he was tied to a table. "Let me go, villain! I'll cut you down where you stand!"
The stooped man chuckled to himself, shaking his head. He turned to dust, his blue eyes glowing merrily. "I imagine you would if I let you loose, boy. Oh yes. Well, that's why you're tied up, isn't it?"
Dust grunted, straining against the ropes that bound him. "I'll kill you anyway! Where's Lean!"
"Sadly absent, for now. Well, one of you shall have to be enough," the man said absently as he busied over his bubbling concoction. "Clegane, do keep him restrained. The ritual isn't quite ready yet."
"Sandor?" Dust said hopefully, looking around. Then his heart sank as a massive shape detached itself from the wall, taking shuddering steps towards Dust. "No. No, you're dead! I killed you, you were fed to pigs!"
"They missed their meal," Gregor Clegane rumbled, his voice oddly distorted as he loomed over dust. His eyes now glowed with a cold blue light, and his face was scarred and mottled grey. He was wearing armor of a dark metal, with obscene markings and runes upon it Dust had seen before.
"Necromancer," Dust whispered. "No, that's impossible! We're in King's Landing!"
"Yes, and Qyburn has given me new purpose," Gregor hissed, leaning down over Dust. "I'm going to enjoy killing you. Though I'll enjoy what comes next less."
"I've told you, Clegane," Qyburn the necromancer said in irritated tones, looking up from his cauldron. "He shall be raised again as a champion of our Master. That, or as one of the Lord of Light's. Melisandre gets the next one, though she would prefer the girl over him. What is taking her?"
"I should slit his throat and be done with it." Clegane drew a dark knife, its hilt affixed with a small human skull. Dust queasily realized it was not a carving, but the genuine article. Runes blossomed along the blade, one blue, one red, and the last, green. "Or perhaps do to him what he did to me."
"Death Knight," Dust whimpered, shrinking away from the blade. "No, no, impossible!"
"You keep using that word," Qyburn said in irritation. "I don't think it means what you think it means."
"Your uncle was right, boy. Satella did reject me that day. But another embraced me. Lord Baelish smuggled my body away from the pigs, and gave me to Qyburn here. Now, I serve a master who understands my needs," Gregor laughed.
"Clegane, I don't know how else to say this: Stop telling the prisoner our plans," Qyburn ordered.
"Who cares? He'll be dead as soon as you finish that cauldron of Plague," Clegane laughed. "He cannot escape!"
"It's the principle of the thing. It's highly unprofessional to tell the boy of our schemes. Now, once he's dead and raised as a servant of King Arthas, you can tell him whatever you want. Not if he's one of the Red God's though. We don't trust them."
"Wait, why is a necromancer working with a Red Priest? I thought you both hated one another?" Dust demanded.
"Who we do, boy, we do. Fire and Ice do loath one another. But what we loath even more is-"
"I'm going to cast a Silence spell on you if you insist on telling the boy one more thing than he needs to know. Gloat about eating his manhood or how you're stronger than he is if you must say anything, but silence would be the wisest course of action," Qyburn ordered, pointing a ladle that dripped with a viscous green fluid at Clegane.
"I don't follow your orders, Necromancer!" Gregor barked, spinning away from Dust. "The Great Lord made me his Death Knight, his favored Chosen! You are but a common Necromancer and-"
Qyburn's eyes suddenly glowed and even deeper blue than Clegane's, and a blue light emanated from his mouth, as it hung open, a voice that was not his own echoing forth. THIS MAN SPEAKS WITH THE WILL OF THE FROZEN THRONE. DEFY HIM AT YOUR PERIL. EVEN YOU ARE REPLACEABLE, DEATH KNIGHT.
"Y-Your Grace!" Clegane stammered, falling to one knee. Even then, he was taller than Qyburn.
"Hmph. Necromancer indeed. I am no simple necromancer, Clegane. You should know this," Qyburn huffed. Then he smiled jovially. "Ah! Plague's nearly ready, we-"
"FIREBALL!"
Dust looked up as a blazing ball of flame streaked over his head, smalling into the cauldron and setting it and the contents ablaze. He let out a cry of delight. "Lean!"
"Well, I thought some other son of a bitch managed to kill you," Sandor's voice shouted as he jumped at his brother, who barely managed to turn and parry the attack with his dagger. "Looks like I managed to get here in time!"
"Prince Dust, quickly," Jory coughed as he hurried through the billowing smoke, using a dagger to cut Dust free. Lean was throwing more fire, ice, and lighting, but Qyburn was snarling out spells of his own, brushing aside Lean's magic with icy precision.
As the two magic users dueled, the first of what was sure to be many Cleganebowls began, the two titans battering at one another in the enclosed space. However, after his initial attack, it was clear that Gregor was not only far stronger in undeath, but he had magic of his own now.
"I'll kill you, and make you my ghoul. That's all you ever were. I should have finished you off properly when you were a boy," Grengor sneered as he battered aside Clegane's sword, driving his younger brother back, then causing Sandor to scream in pain as the scar on his face boiled, then burst at a command from the Death Knight.
"You can kill me," Sandor growled. "But I won't back down."
"Such a pathetic knight you are. Can't believe they made you that bastard brat's shield. I'll find him, and his two welp siblings, and put them to the sword as well, then raise them as-"
"I AM NOT A KNIGHT!" Sandor screamed. "I'm not like you! I will defend the innocent, and fight for those I care for! I swear to Athena, I will never let a monster like you touch those children!"
Gregor cackled, and punched Sandor in the already bloody face, then raised his sword for the killing blow.
YOUR OATHS ARE HEARD, AND ACCEPTED.
Light suddenly filled the room, driving the death knight and Qyburn back, as Sandor slowly got to his feet, his wound healing rapidly.
TO STAND AGAINST EVIL, NO MATTER THE COST.
"You'll never have these children while I hold a sword," Sandor spat, firming his grip.
TO PROTECT THE INNOCENT, THOUGH IT COST YOUR LIFE.
"I am the Shield of the King, and of any you would seek to harm," Sandor roared, swinging his sword at Gregor.
TO FIGHT WITH LOVE AND FRIENDSHIP, AGAINST ANY ODDS!
"My strength is my faith!" Sandor screamed, and lighting crackled in the air at his words.
RISE, SAINT OF BATTLE, AND DO NOT FALTER.
"What the fuck is this!?" Gregor raged as their blades met. "Athena accepts you!? You're a weakling, a vile, wicked oaf, just like I am! Nothing but a dog!"
"I am a dog, but I'm a faithful Hound," Sandor hissed, his muscles bulging as he matched blades with Gregor. "I'll do whatever it takes, to save that boy. I love him like the son I never had."
"You're still weaker than me. I'll kill you, Dust, the princess, Kazuma, his siblings, I'll drown the world in blood and death!" Gregor roared, shoving Sandor off, then stabbing his shoulder with the dark dagger. Gregor brought his black sword around with the other hand, only for it to ring off Dust's blade.
"Let's try this, one more time," Dust panted. He grinned wickedly. "Hello. My name is Dust Martell. You killed Aunt Ilia. Prepare to die."
"STOP SAYING THAT!" Gregor roared.
"You're fucked now," Sandor laughed. "You vile bastard. I knew you were evil, but giving your soul to the Kinslayer? You're no brother of mine."
"Clegane! We must leave, now!" Qyburn ordered, deflecting another of Lean's spells.
"Oh fuck off, Qyburn. I can take-"
"FAITH AND FURY!" a voice bellowed above them, and somewhere a door shattered.
"The Faith Militant are here. I have no doubt we could kill these four, but not an entire century of Athena's chosen. Our work is not done," Qyburn declared. "RISE! RISE, SERVANTS OF THE FROZEN THRONE! RISE AND SERVE YOUR KING!"
Gregor snarled as skeletal arms erupted from the ground, forcing Dust to jump back to Lean's side as ghouls, zombies, and skeletons rose around them. Sandor swore as his brother and the necromancer fled down a tunnel, but could not go after them as dozens of undead appeared.
"Boy am I glad to see you!" Dust laughed as he fought beside Lean. "How'd you know where to find me?"
"Not the time!" Lean squeaked as she roasted a skeleton. "Dust, the undead are everywhere!"
"Oh yeah, um, sorry," Dust agreed, spinning his stolen spear and decapitating both a zombie and a ghoul at a single stroke.
After a minute of furious fighting, reinforcements arrived in the form of a dozen brothers of the Faith Militant, each of them clad in plate as they battled through the undead. At the end of it, Dust and Lean collapsed to the ground, panting as the last of the monsters were annihilated.
"Prince Dust, Princess Lean! You are safe!" a voice slurred, and they looked up to find Lord Varys waddling towards them, clad in boiled leather and wielding a mace that had a bit of ichor and skull on it.
"Oh, hey Spider," Dust said, waving to the Master of Whisperers. "Sorry we thought you were a traitor."
"Um, I realized you weren't actually working for the Red God when I remembered Dust said you had your manhood offered to him," Lean admitted. "Sorry. I should have thought of it sooner."
"It is well enough. The girl you sent found myself and the brothers as we were coming to find you," Varys said, kneeling by the children. "Are you injured? We have a Renewalist with us."
"No, I'm OK. Dust?"
"I'm too stubborn to get hurt!" Dust laughed, then winced. "Um, actually, maybe a little. So, what happened? What's going on?"
"I do not know. I thought Lord Baelish was working with the Red Priests, but this is more than I anticipated," Varys said as a Renewal Septon hurried over, placing his hands on Dust and offering prayers to his patron.
"Lord Baelish told all kinds of lies, like you and Dust betraying my father," Lean said, shaking her head.
Varys winced, and smiled. "Ah, well, another of Littlefinger's lies. We can all-"
"No." Dust said, brushing off the Septon. He crawled over to Lean, tears in his eyes. "Lean, I'm sorry."
"Prince Dust, you are overwrought. The death of your uncle, the kidnapping, you are-" Varys began, but Dust interrupted him.
"No, Varys. No more lies. Lean...I'm sorry. My uncle… me...my family...we were going to betray you. To Iris Targaryen," Dust admitted.
Lean let out a horrified gasp, shying away from Dust.
It broke his heart.
Hot tears trailed down Dust's cheeks, and his voice cracked as he continued on. "I'm a traitor. But...but I couldn't do it, Lean. You're my best friend. I don't know how you can forgive me, but...but I can't betray you. You can lock me up with Sandor and Jory, I won't protest. I just...I don't understand all the politics, but you see, there's Red Priests, and necromancers, and Death Knights, and...and we just need Iris! Kazuma's gone, and she's the Blessed of Athena, and to fight the monsters we need the Children of Destiny and she's one of them!"
Dust swallowed hard, out of words, and out of energy. He kowtowed before Lean, sobbing and broken.
"Oh, Dust. I guess...well. Get up."
Dust blinked as Lean pulled him to his feet, then brushed him off and smiled through her own tears. "I should have known you were too much of an idiot to be a traitor. You could have gotten away with it, you know. Pinned it all on Baelish."
"I don't care, I don't like lying to you. Friends shouldn't do that, and besides, we're betrothed, and I don't want to marry you just for Storms End. I want to marry you because you're the cutest girl I've ever seen, and you're my friend, and you're smart, and you have a tail and-"
"Dust, stop while you're ahead," Lean giggled, giving him a hug. "It's OK. I trust you."
"Thanks. I... I don't know what I would do if you hated me," Dust whimpered.
The two children pulled away, and Dust turned to find Sandor, Jory, and a strange woman who looked scared out of her mind standing around them. "Who are you?"
"Shae, m'lord. I'm just a whore, I don't... the lady told me to get help, and then I found these Brothers coming and I came back because I didn't want to be a whore no more and-"
"You're still going to be my handmaiden, Shae," Lean said firmly. "I'm going to need one on our journey."
"Journey?" Dust asked, turning to Lean in puzzlement.
Lean nodded, looking around with a determined look. "Something's wrong. That necromancer and... and that Death Knight, they were definitely working with a Red Priest. That's not how things work."
"The Cult of the Other and the Red Priests are sworn enemies. They would sooner kill one another as look at each other," Varys agreed.
"Right, but they WERE working together. And something always bothered me. How did my father know that Robert was going to die, and to bring his soldiers with him?" Lean asked.
"That has troubled me as well," Varys admitted. "Petyr Baelish timed things too neatly, with his Gold Cloaks and the Baratheon Guards in the Red Keep before Robert's corpse was cool. I could think of no explanation other than coincidence. Not even Fortuna Cultists predicted Robert's death."
"But I've heard Red Priests can see the future too. Is that true?" Lean asked Varys.
The Spider nodded morosely. "Not well, but they can catch glimpses in their flames. Ah. I see."
"See what?" Dust asked, looking about in confusion.
"Got me, sounds like a load of pig shit to me," Sandor said with a shrug.
Jory sighed. "You're a Brother of the Faith now, Sandor. Mind your tongue."
"If Athena gave a shit about my mouth she wouldn't have made me one of her fucking chosen," Sandor argued.
"Ha! The lady doesn't mind coarse language, but you'll get a talking to using it in front of the Princess and Prince!" one of the other brothers called from their investigation of the dungeon.
Sandor glared at him, but shut up, as that seemed to be the only way he could mind his tongue at that moment.
"Baelish is working with a Red Priestess. She told him Robert was going to die, and to bring in his men," Lean explained.
"That doesn't explain how and why he is working with a necromancer," Varys said, his tone troubled.
Lean nodded. "I don't understand that either. But I do know this: Dust is right. To fight off the Kinslayer and the Red God, we need help. Help from the Stormblessed."
"But she's your enemy. Your father says he's the king," Dust said, scratching his head.
Lean shook her head. "I don't care about any of that. Maybe I can bargain with Iris. Either way, I think we need her help. And you're all coming with me to get it."
"Do what, my lady?" Jory asked, blinking in shock.
"Lord Varys, we're taking a ship to Essos. Where does your information last place Iris Targaryen?" Lean demanded.
"She was in Slaver's Bay by our last word," Varys reported. "But, Your Highness, are you certain?"
"Ser Davos will keep my mother safe, as will the Brothers. As for my father... I hope he'll understand. But this is what I have to do," Lean said firmly. Then she giggled. "Plus, if I send all you men to take care of this, you'll find a way to botch it. Right, Shae?"
"Um, as m'lady says?" Shae stammered in a questioning tone.
"You mean, we get to go on an adventure?! Together?!" Dust asked happily.
Lean nodded, turning and heading up out of the basement. "Yes. Though I must write a note for Mother first. She's going to be most disappointed."
Cast of Characters:
Lean as: Princess rescues YOU.
Dust as: Pretty bad at keeping secrets. Nice kid though.
Sandor Clegane as: OH SHIT, OH SHIT GUYS, IT'S HAPPENING! CLEGANE BOWL IS BACK ON!
Gregor Clegane as: ALL ABOARD THE HYPE TRAIN!
Qyburn as: Kel'thuzad.
Shae as: Way in over her head. Though probably in a better place anyway.
And the cast of a Song of Ice and Fire as: LET'S GET READY TO, RRRRRUMMMMBBBBLLLLEEE!