Chapter 61
Fitz hesitated as he saw who'd just entered his workshop. He frowned and sorta ducked his head? Not bowing to anyone though "Er…hello?"
"I need to speak with you." Sansa Stark's voice was imperious. Giant of a guard looming behind her shoulder.
He wiped his hands on a rag. "Sure, what'ya want?"
"Brienne shut the door." Sansa waited for the door to be shut to speak. "What do you know of recovering people's souls once they've been…removed from their bodies?"
Fitz set the rag aside, his full attention suddenly on the conversation. "Is it contagious?"
"No, one person and no one around him has been affected in months." Sansa replied sharply.
He dropped his hands on his hips. Right…well that was less frightening than it could be. "I'm going to need m-more than that."
"My brother Bran, his greenseeing has left him empty. I don't fully understand it myself." Sansa's chin tipped upwards. "I will explain what I can if you wish."
Fitz flinched. "Oh..should have guessed that. Rickon was venting about it last night." He ran a hand through his hair. "This is magic right?"
"Yes." She replied.
Crossing his arms he let his weight fall against the table behind him. "Look, in my world, I could…could do something. MRIs, CAT scans, isolation, any number of tests to try and understand what was happening. Even then with magic." He hissed in disgust. "But even then breaking things like that…it can be done. Sometimes. But it's human connection that d-does it."
Something passed across her face. "Thank you."
"It's dangerous." Fitz bit his lip but…fuck it. "Has Daisy told you anything about Hive?"
Sansa's face was guarded then. "Some."
"There was no reasoning with the people u-under his sway. We tried, we tried so hard, once he had Daisy…we all thought if we could just get through to her she'd be ours again. But Mack and I almost died. She shattered every bone in Mack's chest, locked away, and betrayed Lincoln, she nearly choked me to death, Andrew did d-die to free her. And he could because that was his purpose." He shrugged. "She almost brought our entire base down on top of our heads. She didn't want to be b-brought back. And she couldn't have come back even if we had gotten through to her."
Her eyes had a similar intelligent gleam as her brother's. "That was an ancient god."
"That time." His arms unfolded. "Look, at war, the best soldier is o-one who doesn't have a choice. Who is loyal because they can be nothing else. The b-best prisoner is one who doesn't even know they are one. The b-best spy doesn't know they are one. I've seen a half d-dozen, maybe more ways of enslaving a person's mind. If you want to add parasitical inhabiting of a body, then more. Sometimes you can get the person back. Sometimes you can't. Time away from what's causing it can help. Separation can weaken the hold but… it's not good."
Sansa didn't flinch away from his words. "Would you be willing to look?"
"I don't think you understand. I tried to kill my w-wife." He waved a hand. "I tortured Daisy to a bloody pulp. I killed our friend, I murdered Agnes. And that's the crimes that m-mattered. Do the children count? The hundreds of innocents, the ones I cut into with my bare hands? And I-I have to live with that. With that t-thing in my head, that'll never go away now. Even if I can help…it changes a person. If Daisy and Jemma were smart they'd have left me to die as that m-monster."
Crann made a choking noise from where he'd been pretending to not exist.
There was a long, almost ringing silence. Finally, Sansa spoke. "I know the risks, but he is my brother."
Fitz's shoulders slumped. "Yeah, yeah I'll see if there's anything I can do."
"Thank you." Sansa paused looking at him, and even he could see how cold her expression was. "If you were wise you would say nothing about having ever harmed Daisy. I may be required by oath, law, and obligation to ensure you are safe; but without her here that will matter a great deal less if that becomes widely known."
His mouth was vaguely dry but he nodded. "Well, good thing I don't talk to anyone then."
"Indeed." She agreed and then turned. Her knight opened the door and followed her as she left.
Fitz blew out a breath. Well…mind control, or whatever the emptiness Rickon had been talking about was exhausting. He looked down at his hand, the tremble nearly gone.
/
Jon bent over the bulwarks and puked his guts out. His hands gripped onto the wood, lest he fall into the waves. His stomach rebelled viciously.
"Give it a few days. You'll feel better." Davos advised with a faint chuckle.
Daisy made a laughing sound. "I'm starting to think you just have a sensitive stomach."
"Sod off." He spat the lingering bile out of his mouth and into the waves below. The swell of the ship left him shaky and miserable.
Daisy laughed outright at that. "Water?" She whacked his shoulder with a waterskin.
He groaned but grabbed the waterskin. Pouring water into his mouth he washed it about before spitting. "I don't belong on a boat."
"It's a ship, your Highness." Davos corrected, the smug bastard.
Jon straightened, glaring at the unrepentantly un-nauseous Daisy. "How are you so unaffected?" Which was a fair question. Half the Northern party were green at the gills. And the ones who weren't were mostly Manderly men.
"I don't really get motion sick." Daisy shrugged. "Which is a good thing cause living on a plane, real bad if you get motion sick."
Marlon Manderly, who'd been quietly pretending he wasn't laughing at the misfortune of half the men spoke up. "If I may your Holiness, what is a plane?"
"A metal bird in the sky. Or I guess it's like a carriage that flies? You don't really have anything like it here." Daisy frowned, glancing at the ship. "I guess it's more like a ship than a carriage."
Jon quietly added in his own head this must be the flying vessel that had magics allowing it to vanish from human perception that Daisy had spoken of before.
"Well, I can't match something as incredible as your plane. But this is a fine ship, and she'll keep us safe." Marlon practically radiated pride over the ship.
Davos hummed. "Aye, it's a fine ship."
"Newest vessel straight from Essos." Marlon bragged, an excited gleam in his eye. "Bought and paid for in Braavos at the Queen's command. A fleet like this and we can match anyone on land or sea."
Daisy patted Jon's back. "I'm sure." She looked at Jon. "And if you're done puking, your sister sent like…so much reading material for you."
Marlon somehow managed to perk up despite having a face that looked like it'd been carved from a particularly rough rock. "I'm happy to offer my services in preparation for our negotiations. My uncle, Lord Manderly, has left much of negotiating trade to myself and his son. It's not the same of course, but I would gladly assist all the same, your Highness."
Jon…wondered if wallowing with his seasickness was an option?
Jon took a long drink from his mug of ale, getting food in his belly had helped with the general misery of being at sea. "Why is it so terrible to just plainly say what we mean? We need dragonglass and ideally, dragonfire if any of us are to survive. All the rest…it doesn't matter."
"Your Highness…" Marlon trailed off at the distinct sound of Daisy clearing her throat.
She leaned forward, her elbows on the table, her chin resting on her folded hands. "Who is the greatest threat to the Dragon Queen and her claim to Westeros?"
Jon wanted to say Cersei, but he knew it wasn't true. Two of the kingdoms already followed his sister, and he knew as well as anyone the Riverlands would pledge to her as well given half a chance. Actually, about a quarter of them already had or were indicating they wished to. If travel took less time it'd likely be half. "Sansa."
"Exactly. What you are asking is for humanity to halt fighting itself and instead go kill the threat that faces you all. But that is not all you're asking even if you don't mean it. You're asking a woman to give up her position of strength, weaken her army, use up a great deal of wealth and supplies, and march to her rival's aid. And to do all of that on the basis of your word that the ice zombie shit is real." Daisy raised an eyebrow. "I'm like half convinced I'm gonna have to prevent you from being strangled by the Dragon Queen."
Which was utter shit! He wanted to yell till he was blue in the face that none of the rest mattered! Who cared whose fucking corpse was on the Iron Throne? It wasn't like his sister even wanted the damned thing. "The Dead are coming, and they don't care what colors any of us are wearing, or what ruler controls what land. They'll kill us all."
Daisy rolled her eyes. "I didn't say you couldn't succeed."
Everyone around the table stilled and looked at her in disbelief. Jon actually choked slightly. "You don't think it's a fool's errand?"
"If I could negotiate a cease fire between Hydra and SHIELD, I'm sure you can manage with the Dragon Queen…well unless she's insane. But if she's like dangerously insane fuck respecting the fact this isn't my world, I'll end the issue."
Jon swallowed his throat suddenly dry. "You mean that?"
"Yes, you just have to be smart about it. Like you've got an existential threat of zombies. That's a tough sell. So start with dragonglass and prove your word is to be trusted. Alliances take time or immediate death coming for you right that second. And since the dead are still on the other side of the Wall you're going to have to go with time."
Davos spoke. "Well said, though I had thought you agreed with her Grace?"
"Sansa is paranoid as hell. Because everyone is constantly trying to use or kill or do something to her. She assumes the worst." Daisy shrugged. "I like to assume the best. 'Sides, my general existence is a pretty solid argument that magical ice zombies are a possibility. So at least you probably won't get laughed at."
Jon sighed, and pulled over the…it was frankly a book more than a series of letters that his sister had sent. "I still need to learn all of this don't I?"
"Yup. Cause paranoid doesn't mean wrong." Daisy looked amused as she leaned back. She suddenly looked thoughtful. "You know…I think I'm going to teach you poker."
Jon had a terrible feeling. "What is poker?"
"A card game based on the ability to lie." Daisy raised a brow in challenge. "You're going to be absolutely terrible. But if we can whip you into enough shape you can fake your way through the politics long enough to get shit done."
He groaned…but then well…they were going to be on this boat for a month…not even Sansa's bloody novel of political strategies would last more than a week. He was looking forward to the dragons, maybe they'd eat him and he wouldn't have to worry about this?
/
Sansa's shoulders and spine felt like iron as she watched Fitz enter the room. She did not like the man, had not since Daisy had first explained the scarring on her neck. More time had not improved her opinion of him. However, he was the closest to an option she had for her brother. Her eyes flicked to Bran, she wasn't sure what she hoped to see on his face…more than nothing. Bran's face didn't move. Though his eyes moved from the fire to where Fitz had entered. Which was…less than nothing. He wasn't deaf or catatonic, merely empty.
Fitz scratched at the back of his head. "Right…so um…want me to just talk to him?"
"Doctor Leopold Fitz." Bran's voice was bland.
Sansa blinked, she'd forgotten that was Fitz's first name.
"Ah..you've heard of me then?" Fitz cocked his head to the side looking at Bran as he stepped into the room. It was like suddenly he wasn't aware Sansa was even there.
Bran's face remained unchanging. "No, I've seen you. Not much, but enough."
"Seen me?" Fitz's focus was bright and real in a way that made the hairs on the back of Sansa's neck stand on end. It was like he was looking at a puzzle.
Bran didn't so much as twitch, not a flicker of emotion. "I see a lot."
"Huh." Fitz grabbed a chair and pulled it across from Bran by the fire. "What have you seen?"
Bran's face didn't change, and yet…it felt like it had. "I am not indebted to you." He paused for a long moment. "I cannot return you to your home."
"That's not why I'm here." Fitz frowned faintly.
Bran just looked at him like he was seeing straight through the man. "It is." He looked away. "I require more practice." And then his eyes went white as he warged out of his body.
Sansa let out a long, silent breath. Well, that had given her something to think on. However, it had shown perhaps an invisible tone of emotion. Even if it was dismissive. "Thank you for the effort."
"I've met an inhuman like him before." Fitz turned towards her. "Daisy can…help. She helped Robin, but Robin was never normal again."
She ruthlessly crushed down the faint hope that wanted to grow there. "I hope so. I'm sorry for taking you from your work."
Sansa looked up from her latest letter to her uncle in Riverrun, her last two unanswered. She knew from both Littlefinger and experience the likely reason for it. But a letter cost very little to write. She smiled as she saw it was Rickon entering her public solar. It wasn't even a thought to set her quill aside, stand, stride across the room and drag her baby brother into her arms. Squeezing him desperately tightly.
Rickon just hugged her back just as bruisingly tight.
"We'll get him back." She promised into his curls. "I promise, we'll get him back."
/
Daisy stared at the tuning fork, her senses focused on it. The words of poor Marlon trying to explain the political niceties of negotiation to Jon faded in the background. He really was hopeless, Jon wasn't dumb but he had grown up idealizing rigid honor and for all that his childhood hadn't been idyllic, it had been protected and secure. He'd have made an excellent mark if she was operating for their enemies. Which…she'd lost her focus on the stupid piece of metal.
She groaned but closed her eyes. Silently begging the sound to not be atrocious she gently agitated the vibrations inside the delicate thing. And, it was funny, concentrating on it like this she could feel more than hear the sound. Well shit, soundwaves were waves she could affect then. She was careful as she started nudging gently at the sounds.
/
Davos was a man who had seen a lot. He was quite frankly a consummate acceptor of the splendor and darkness of the world without much fuss. His Lord decides to follow a witch? Well for all his grumbling he'd gone mostly along with it…mostly. Shadow Demon's birth? Well, he'd needed a strong drink and would likely have nightmares for the rest of his life, but he'd survived.
In fact, if he'd bothered with more self-introspection, he'd have been proud of how he'd dealt with facing the fact tales of monsters and magic were real and terrifying. But he was a simple man. He'd found it best to trudge through life and do what needed to be done. So he'd found the strange Northern god rather easy to mostly ignore. Or well, deal with in a non-terrified manner.
However, once the strange piece of metal in her hand began to sing he felt a shiver down his spine. When the sound began whining in a manner no sound naturally should make, the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. He wasn't alone in that, based on the distinctly uncomfortable expressions on the other men's faces. When the very light around the god started to warp, Davos looked at Jon.
Jon winced but cleared his throat. "Daisy?"
The light instantly returned to normal, the horrible ringing ceasing, as her eyes snapped open, a politely curious look on her face as if nothing abnormal had been happening at all. "What's up?"
"Uh…the light was getting strange there?" Jon's voice was faintly tight.
She looked confused for a second. "The light?"
"It was all wavey and the colors were wrong?" Jon asked carefully.
The woman, or god, or monster, or whatever it was she truly was laughed. "Sorry, I wasn't trying to do anything to the light, didn't know I could do that actually." She leaned back. "Are you guys ok?"
Davos made a strange noise in the back of his throat. "Didn't know you could do that?"
"I control vibrations of the stuff that makes up everything? Sound or light are like waves of vibration. It makes sense I can affect them, I just haven't tried before." Daisy unfolded, she tended to sit in the strangest ways.
Jon, bless his curly head, somehow accepted that. "Ah, well that's something. Is it harmful?"
"No…or well not yet, you're good." Daisy slid to her feet and stepped over. "So, what part of the negotiations are you going over?"
Jon sighed. "The history of the Rebellion and the reign of King Aerys."
"Ah, shitty stuff." Daisy dropped onto the bench beside Jon. "But uh…even I know about that, like you had three books on it."
Jon easily shifted to accommodate Daisy beside him. "Aye, I do. But it would seem my sister insists I'm reminded of it."
"You weren't alive then your Highness." Lord Greengood cut in. "They were dark days, and your Lord Father did you no favors not speaking of it." The man was stiff with genuine emotion. "What they did to your aunt was a disgrace. She was a bright and wild girl. And your uncle Brandon was a strong, proper young Lord. We all thought he'd be a good Lord someday. He went to demand justice and he was killed for it! He and your grandfather were killed while your aunt was being stashed away from any aid or hope of rescue! The Targaryens are mad bastards."
Davos spoke before an argument could get going. "He's not wrong, the stories of what Aerys did to people were…dark. He was excited by the scent of burning flesh."
"Sounds like Stannis." Marlon muttered.
He glared at the man. "Stannis was a better man than Aerys could have dreamed of!"
"The morality of burning men alive for magic isn't what we're speaking of." Lord Greengood snapped. "Understanding the crimes committed by the Targaryens is important. We're about to treat with one of the fuckers, not Stannis Baratheon."
Davos forced himself to settle. Even after everything he…was full of bitterness over Stannis. It did not mean he wished to hear the man disparaged after he'd sacrificed everything for what was right. To fight the war they were still fighting. A King who'd lost his crown and throne to fight for the living. He nearly flinched as he realized the god was looking at him.
It was going to be a long month at sea.
/
Jon, Davos and Manderly were seated in the dim lamplight of the ship's belly. Supplies, hammocks and too many bodies, some half asleep, surrounded them.
They sat upon crates and boxes as they played their impromptu game.
The card game 'poker' was rudimentary enough. Four sets of cards representing Royal Houses. House Diamond, Club, Spade and Heart. Manderly had been intrigued by the origin of the game and had immediately seen how it was a metaphor for the dominance and clashes of Kingdoms.
The lower numbered cards were obviously servants or soldiers of some kind to his mind, useless on their own but when grouped in sequence, the same House or grouped in multiples of the same kind they gained power and strength.
The King and Queen held obvious power while the Jack was a confusing name for a card which Manderly thinks must represent a Knight or perhaps a Court Steward? The Ace is the truly confusing one, a card that can simultaneously be the highest card or the lowest depending on the game or situation according to Her Holiness. Are Aces like the gods? Often underestimated and ignored, until suddenly their capricious power strikes down even the greatest of Royal Households?
The deck of cards they have improvised from cut rectangles of parchment paper is rudimentary, the paper too flexible and light for a proper 'shuffle' and at times difficult to hold without the ends flopping over to reveal one's hand to opponents. Yet, Her Holiness had merely seen this as a positive. She had laughed and elbowed Prince Jon, telling him it would make him more cautious as he had to be careful how he held the cards, lest he give away his strength to his opponents.
Marlon could see the metaphor in the advice. Prince Jon must be as cautious and on guard in playing cards as he is in the negotiations to come with the Dragon Queen.
Marlon had already settled in his mind that he will see to a proper deck being commissioned when he returns home. Better parchment, maybe even thin wooden cards, and more detailed illustrations.
Her Holiness had many skills but drawing was not one of them and her rudimentary sketches of card faces in simple black ink were workable but…uninspired.
Marlon was eager to see what a craftsman could do with a concept of such a deck. Perhaps Queen Sansa as the Queen of Diamonds? Replace the Aces with a variety of gods? And the Jack could be made into famed Princes or Knights of Winter Kingdoms long past? The possibilities were endless.
Alas, those were but dreams yet and so Manderly refocused on the large crate that was acting as their playing table. Ser Johnson had cut the shaft of a spare deck swab stick into countless thin, circular disks and marked them with letters to represent copper pennies, silver stags and golden dragons. Since this was practice she believed using fake currency would allow them to learn without actually losing anything.
The concept of 'chips' as a means of gambling meant this game could be taught to children and even played as a friendly competition between nobles without the stakes of actual currency being wagered. Marlon already had plans for commissioning a set of 'chips' to match his planned deck.
Her Holiness had explained three games to them, two versions of poker: the first simple five card stud and the second Texas hold'em. The final game had been the crassly named, 'Bullshit' which was a game of deceit that would be excellent at training men to lie and to catch liars.
For now they were attempting to play five card stud; it was a simplified version of poker with less rounds of betting, fewer cards and a quicker turnover of cards.
Marlon was finding he quite enjoyed the game and was intrigued at the idea of advancing to playing it with 'wild deuces' as the god had explained as well as advancing to Texas Hold'em. The mix of bluffing, chance, calculating probabilities of cards at each point after the flop, the turn and the river intrigued him. Yet, until they had the experience with simple five card stud and were familiar with the cards value and combinations to win, that more complex game would have to wait.
Jon was watching his cards, his face painfully obvious as the scrunching of his brows gave away his dislike of the one card he had received after the initial round of betting. He had likely been trying to fill a straight but had failed.
"Check," Jon whispered.
Davos had already thrown in his cards and it was up to Manderly to allow the check or raise the bet.
Sensing Jon had nothing Marlon threw in two wooden disks marked with clumsy 'S' symbols to signify silver stags, "Raise two silver."
Jon scowled and tossed his cards down, "Fold!"
Marlon smiled and reached out to grasp the handful of wooden chips from buy-ins and the first round of betting.
Jon had been bleeding chips most of the evening.
Jon sighed, "I think fate is against me in this game."
Davos snorted, "Fate may be part of it, but its your face that really let ye down again my prince."
Jon scowled and Marlon nodded, "I am afraid he is correct my prince, your brows furrow when you are annoyed. I could tell immediately that your drawn card had not been the one you wanted for your hand. Checking was also a conservative move, one I have noticed you always do when you are displeased with your hand. Such patterns can make you predictable."
Jon sighed and reached up to run his hand across his traitorous brows in consternation, "Right, so my brows are giving me away now. I'll add it to the list along with the downturn of my lips when annoyed, the flaring of my nostrils when I am pleased and the tendency to shift in my seat when I am bluffing."
Davos nodded seriously, "Don't forget the bouncing of your left leg when you are anxious. It was a dead give away that something was up."
Jon rolled his eye, "So I just need to pretend I have succumbed to grayscale and am a statue then."
Manderly allowed himself a small smile, "If that is the visualization that helps you Prince Jon then yes, being like a statue would be a good mien to assume for negotiating or playing poker."
Davos offered a nod of agreement, "Think of your sister. Her Majesty is able to listen to her god say the most outlandish of things, yet her face never twitches. No man knows if she is shocked or if she has heard all of the gods' mad adventures and the horrors of the gods before."
Jon allowed a rare smile to pull at his lips as he thinks of Sansa and how she has been able to convince the court that she is often unphased by the frankly disturbing tales that often drop from the god's lips. Tales of mind control, traveling worlds, killing gods, destruction of huge cities and the defeat of enemies so foul that they would make the bravest man feel small and insignificant.
"Right, another hand. It's your turn to deal Davos," Jon whispered in resignation.
Davos gathered the cards and began righting them into a uniform deck. Shuffling was a clumsy affair since the parchment was not quite rigid enough for it but he managed.
Davos tossed a card across the crate towards Jon but his aim was sent off by the sudden whine that echoed through the belly of the ship and made Davos flinch.
"Shit," Davos cursed and he ducked his head instinctively, leaning subconsciously away from the source of the sound.
Jon retrieved his card from the floor where it had fell while trying to remain calm as the whining, piercing note reaches a crescendo and then dies down once more.
The sailors in hammocks around them shuffled and twitched.
Jon's eyes peered into the gloom of the ship in the general direction of where Daisy's private cabin was located. She had said she was going to sleep but it was obvious she was actually still experimenting with her powers, a thought that made a shiver run down Jon's back.
The first few nights aboard the ship with Daisy had been disturbing to say the least. She had been experimenting with the 'tuning fork' which Fitz had gifted her. A training aid for her powers she claimed.
The idea of the god becoming more powerful and gaining yet more abilities had led to more than one frightened look from the men aboard the ship.
Daisy had claimed that despite her display on the deck the first day when the very light had warped around her and the tuning fork had emitted a screaming wail, these new powers were not dangerous, yet.
It was the 'yet' that made Marlon, Davos and Jon sweat when they thought too long upon it.
The following days at sea had been miserable for Jon as he desperately tried to find his sea legs as the men constantly ribbed him.
However, Jon's poor condition was soon forgotten as a rash of insomnia had taken hold across the ship. Hardened sailors who usually slept soundly no matter the time of day or night after hours of hard work were struggling to sleep.
What's more, those who did sleep were waking from nightmares and paranoid whispers of the belief that they were being watched by a malevolent spirit had begun circulating.
It had become so bad that the Captain had even broached the subject of throwing some rations overboard as an offering to the spirits of the sea or perhaps asking Her Holiness to fly ahead to Dragonstone since some of the more superstitious sailors believed a woman aboard was bringing bad fortune.
Jon had asked the Captain to delay such measures and that he would speak to their resident god, perhaps she could bless the ship or vanquish whatever 'evil spirit' was affecting the men.
Jon was suitably suspicious of such superstitious nonsense but after seeing the army of the dead and meeting a god…well, he was prepared to give the Captain and the sailors worries some credence.
If nought else, Jon hoped he could convince Daisy to 'bless' the ship with protection. He knew Daisy would scoff at the idea and quickly remind them all she had no such power, but Jon hoped even just a mummers act at it would quell the disquiet of the sailors.
Jon had been doubly surprised that when he had explained the issue to the god, Daisy had listened with a look of dawning comprehension and mild chagrin before immediately apologizing and stating she believed she may actually be accidentally responsible for the men's problems.
Daisy believed her experiments with sound had perhaps been causing the men's problems. After the first day when the tuning fork's sound had unsettled everyone so badly, she had decided to train her powers on sounds so low that apparently mortal men could not hear them, but with her divine abilities she could still feel them.
Daisy explained how these 'infrasounds' on her world were known to sometimes cause problems sleeping, stress and even paranoia. She apologized profusely and swore she had thought she had limited the sound wave to just her cabin.
Daisy swore to stop working on these 'infrasounds' and that the men would suffer no more ill effects.
Jon had swallowed his hysteric response and agreed that perhaps just telling the men the god had sorted the problem was a good idea. Daisy did not need or deserve anyone looking at her with any more fear for what she assured him was a harmless accident in the long run.
Sure enough, as Daisy began experimenting again with the tuning fork and using it to make terrible and sometimes beautiful sounds that were audible to all, the ship's insomnia disappeared and the mood amongst the men improved.
Back in the present Jon stared in the general direction of Daisy's cabin and the source of the infernal noise.
Daisy, Jon and the Captain were the only three people with small private cabins on the boat as everyone else bunked on the floor or in hammocks.
A low hum, like the sound of wind whipping through grasslands, echoed from Daisy's cabin before going silent.
Then, in the gloom of the ship's hull, the edges of Daisy's cabin door suddenly lit up, a spectrum of bright purple lights in a myriad of shades that Jon had never known were possible.
The light leaked through the door frame and the gaps in the thin wooden wall of Daisy's cabin, bathing the belly of the ship in a fractals of colored lights that made the flickering lamps seem dim.
The sleeping men in hammocks twitched in their sleep but the light guttered and died once more before truly disturbing them. Silence reigned again.
Davos straightened on his crate and fiddled with the cards, "I'll never get used to seeing that."
Marlon tore his eyes from the direction of the god's cabin, "I second that. To see Her holiness manipulate the very light and create such divine and hellish notes…what possibly could be the purpose?"
Jon shrugged absently, trying to effect the same blase attitude his sister used, " As you both well heard the first day, Her Holiness says she is experimenting with her power. She is young yet for a god and needs to train her power. I don't think she knew herself she had the ability to exert her will over the very light and sound of the world before that first day on the ship. The Smith Touched Man Fitz gave her the piece of metal because his cracked mind made the leap that it was possibly one of Her Holiness' powers and she need only train it."
Davos began dealing cards again even as he shook his head, "Just wish she would wait til we are off this boat to train it. The sounds she makes…some of em make the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. I have no shame in saying it. I have seen some bloody sights and my fair share of mad magics, but Her Holiness powers almost had me thinkin' of swimming the rest of the way to Dragonstone the other day."
Jon lets a gusty breath escape him, "I will speak with Her Holiness tomorrow and see if she minds perhaps training other aspects of her power while we are all confined on this ship together. I know it is not her intention to make people uncomfortable and she has proven herself empathetic enough that I doubt she would be doing as she is if she realized how….unsettling it is for everyone."
Davos grunted, "I know the men aboard would be obliged Prince Jon, rather you than me to broach the subject with her though."
Jon nods even as he thinks about how odd it is that while so many still fear Daisy he has come to understand her enough that he feels comfortable to raise the issue with her. For all her terrible power she does not seem the sort who wishes to see people made uncomfortable if she can help it.
Marlon lifts his cards and rearranges them, his eyes narrowing as he studies the rudimentary pictures as he speaks, "Such power already, and I noticed Her Holiness had said that affecting the light and sound were not dangerous…yet. That 'yet' fills me with equal trepidation and curiosity. What could a god do with light and sound if she masters them?"
Davos snorts, "Burn people like the sun, deafen them with the infernal noise I reckon, just from what we have seen so far."
Jon fiddles with his hand of cards, a pair of 3's, a four, five and six. Should he try for threes, two pair or toss the 3 and go again for a straight?
He plucked his beard absently in thought before answering Marlon's query, "Her Holiness is a god of ruin, a destroyer. I have no doubt whatever use she puts light and sound to when she finishes training her power will be…devastating. Something I doubt I can even begin to grasp. Yet, she has proven circumspect with her power and chosen only to destroy in protection. That gives me hope. Whatever she uses it for, better that she trains it. Nothing worse than a youngling with a sword in hand and no clue how to use it when the need arises."
Davos and Marlon nod in agreement before refocusing on their cards, bets to be made and cards to be discarded.