Bran stares out the royal solar as a large raven lands on the stone sill pecking left over bread crumbs set out the previous night. The kings eyes return to their normal brown color hearing knocks at the door. Podrick enters standing behind Bran offering a smile, "it's time your grace the first kingdoms started arriving."
"Excellent. Is the council ready to begin?"
"They're awaiting your presence in the council chambers." Podrick says clicking the chair's bottom lever wheeling Bran out the royal solar asking the king how he slept receiving the usual reply most days he didn't.
Tyrion is the first to his feet followed by the others quickly ceasing their individual activities as Bran is placed at the head of the table opposite his hand. "Its good of you to join us your grace. We are in the middle of discussing candidates we've selected for a new master of war—"
"There's no need for that Lord Tyrion. I've already chosen a new master of war. What I come to discuss is about the weeks long festivities taking place in only a few short hours."
"If I can inquire what's it pertaining to your grace?" Sam asks.
"I realize its last minute however I desire to gather all the great houses' leaders in the throne room sometime this week. The events will be discussed in detail as well as other business that shall remain undisclosed. Until the opening ceremonies I'd like to lie down I had a rather interesting night." The council share glances thinking they heard some semblance of Bran Stark returning. "I leave the rest to you until then." He says allowing Podrick to wheel him out the council chambers.
Brienne branches from small council overhearing Bronn boasting about the brothels new additions leading them to it. Podrick shuts Bran's solar door locking it behind him nodding to the royal guards under Brienne's command. "You aren't joining the others Brienne? Podrick asks walking with her through the corridor.
Brienne represses a chuckle, "and do what exactly Podrick? Its a brothel."
"Aye you're right. I never cared too much for places like that either."
"Pod." Brienne halts him away from listening ears. He can't help smiling at the nickname recalling her training on their journey from King's Landing to Winterfell in search of Arya and Sansa Stark. After the ordeal he believed the pair of them can survive anything thrown their way. "Go enjoy yourself for awhile you've earned time off more than any of us."
"I enjoy what I do I assure you Brienne I don't need a break from my duty." The younger kingsgaurd says resuming his walk before Brienne halts him once more.
"Everyone needs a break Podrick. At least until tonight when the small council gathers again. Join the others at the brothel if you want."
"How about you? What will you do?"
Brienne smiles warmly, "I'm meeting with an old friend."
"I'll see you tonight Lady Brienne." Podrick trots off in search of the others.
Brienne exits the Red Keep entering the crowds gathering witnessing the kingdoms' arrivals. Conversations are dominated by their excitement hosting great houses from countries they would never have traveled to beforehand. People turn staring in awe offering the Kingsguard commander praise showering her with gifts ranging from wine, food and other miscellaneous items she hasn't recognized yet. She declines pushing her way through the emptier streets heading for the capital outskirts.
The Eyrie and Iron Island factions are led to different campsites in opposing directions leaving the Riverlands and the North to occupy the nearest open site large enough to host the great houses in both countries. Sansa Brynden and Edmure disperse through their respective camps as soldiers and workers set up tents nailing canvas and braided rope into the grass. Supply wagons are placed underneath oak tree shade as water is collected from the river and fire pits are dug far enough apart giving groups their own space. Sansa climbs off her horse allowing a nearby guard to march her to a reserve stable at the city's edge. Sansa releases a sigh hoping Ghost would've found his way to her since disappearing in the Riverland forests, there hasn't been a reported sighting since.
"Lady Sansa." The Queen in the North smiles running into Brienne's familiar embrace, "its good to see you again."
"Its good to see you as well." Sansa smiles brightly stepping away viewing the Kingsgaurd who escorted her safely to Castle Black refusing to leave her side even in the care of Jon. "Your armor, its the first time I've seen you as a kingsgaurd."
Brienne smiles forgetting about the glided steel placing a hand over Oathkeeper, "thank you your grace—"
"Please my brother is king you never have to be formal with me."
Brienne bows, "of course Lady Sansa. How've you been? You look well."
"The journey from Winterfell was tiring I'm looking forward to this weeks convocation, its all everyone's been talking about since we entered the Riverlands." Sansa says. Brienne sighs recalling reading Sansa's letters by candlelight worrying if she was doing alright ruling alone after Arya's disappearance and Jon's exile.
Brienne strides beside Sansa linking arms strolling alongside Northmen rushing to construct the campsite eager to roam free around the capital. "Not long ago Bran gave a report on Jon Snow's progress beyond the wall." Brienne halts as Sansa's still.
"Brienne there's something I have to tell you, it has to stay between us. Even Bran can't know promise me."
Brienne smiles resuming their stroll, "Lady Sansa you know anything spoken between us stays between us."
A small grin overtakes the Queen in the North's features, "Jon returned to Winterfell a day before we departed." Brienne halts surprising Sansa.
"Thats wonderful Lady Sansa. In your letters you made it clear you weren't sure what happened up North since the Night's Watch doesn't disclose information on their personnel."
Sansa rotates the silver wolf ring on her index finger, "their lord commander Mallister was kind enough granting Jon parole from his duties in exchange for charged criminals from our castle and keep prisons."
"I shouldn't say anything either though I'm sure you know it was Bran's order which kept the lords from supplying the Night's Watch with prisoners out their dungeons. I apologize not being any help to you or your family."
"Its quite alright Brienne you are at no fault, its no ones but my own." Sansa says staring at Knight's racing on a deserted dirt road crossing over to a wood bridge noticing soldiers chase close behind clamoring to see the winner.
Brienne notices the soldiers finding Sansa still staring after the end, "is Jon here? Did he accompany the north caravan?" Brienne exhales as Sansa pulls tighter.
"Whats troubling you Lady Sansa?" Brienne asks facing the northern queen placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder, "whatever it is you can tell me."
Sansa remains silent a few moments, "I named Jon warden asking if he'd help Yara Greyjoy having her help finding Arya. I wanted to keep my family close and together instead they're both gone because of me."
"I'm sure it will be fine my lady." Sansa sighs searching Brienne's eyes. "Lord Snow and Miss Arya are both strong they'll return to you." Sansa smiles resuming their walk catching up on current events conversing as if they never missed a day with each other.
Brynden and Edmure walk side by side out the gathering crowd meeting with Brienne and Sansa. "Lady Brienne, grand niece." The Blackfish says shaking the Kingsguard commander's hand.
"Lord Blackfish good to see you again. The last time we spoke you claimed you'd never leave Riverrun I see you've broken your vow."
Brynden laughs patting Edmure's back as he chuckles awkwardly, "go find your wife I'll catch up with you later." He says dismissing his nephew watching him scurry to the capital.
"Was that—"
"Yes unfortunately. So what trouble will the Queen in the North and commander of the Kingsgaurd get in today?"
Sansa turns to Brienne "we won't get in any trouble I assure you Uncle Brynden."
"Just wanted to be sure. Well don't let an old man like me bother you two. Lady Brienne always good seeing you. I trust my niece in your care." He says walking toward his waiting bannermen.
"Where are you going uncle?"
"To find trouble." Brynden replies disappearing in the crowds trailed by Rivermen. Sansa holds chuckles in a hand remembering someone too familiar who finds trouble. The pair head enter the capital going to Brienne's apartment in the central villa next to the marketplace.
"So there she was on her knees, tits dangling near the floor ass up in the air. Had her crawl over to me and—"
"I'd rather not hear this Bronn I've heard your stories a thousand times over." Sam says.
"Trust me Samwell you'll want to hear this one."
"As I was clearly saying before being so rudely interrupted. She crawled over on her knees didn't bother to take me boots off yanks my pants down then she vomited her guts out." Tyrion Davos Podrick Varys and Bronn spill wine drunkenly as Sam cracks a grin not seeing the humor.
"Its as I said Bronn. This is why we like having you on the council not because you make wise financial investments." Tyrion says breaking though their dying laughs.
"Should we order more wine?" Podrick asks noticing the tables bottle supply empty.
"You know what I want more than anything right now?" Tyrion hangs the open question to the room noticing several girls carrying Arbor Gold. "Bronn you son of a bitch you spoil us with gifts too often."
"I know." Bronn says waving the girls to enter their reserved room on the brothel's third floor.
"Wonderful thank you dear," Varys uncorks the first bottle refilling everyone's cup to the brim. "Well if this is how our whole day consists until the opening ceremony. I must say this is a most welcome change compared to how we've spent the countless other times."
"Is it just me? Or am I the only one who isn't looking forward to this whole gathering of the great houses in Westeros. Being the master of ships preparing and regulating the capital harbor for the past few weeks has been an unwelcome pain in my ass." Davos says.
Podrick laughs clasping Davos's shoulder, "cheer up friend have another drink. Who knows maybe you'll find a good woman to settle with."
"At my age I'll be lucky finding a widow whose had six children already."
"At your age I'd say thats a keeper." Bronn says waving more service bottles over.
"Guys in all seriousness theres important issues need addressing during this weeks convocation," Sam says holding out a piece of parchment earning groans from the councilmen with the exception Podrick. "First is the introduction of the new Kingsguard arriving—"
"I think best we should let Lady Brienne and Ser Podrick here sort that one out." Tyrion says finishing the wine in one go.
Sam stops at a peculiar one of interest, "selecting a war council that one will be interesting. I wonder if King Bran wants to select his master of war then as well."
"That one is great interest to me as well. I had a few candidates in mind however I enjoy being surprised every now and again." Varys says.
"If I'm not selected on the new war council I'll question its legitimacy."
"You kidding? Podrick deserves to be on it more than you do he saved your ass during Stannis's invasion of the city." Pod raises his cup offering a smile appreciating the vote of confidence.
"Alright slow your wits. I served on Stannis's war council and helped Northmen and wildlings win the battle for Winterfell against the Boltons when we were doomed to fail. I may not be a fighter least I should get elected to the committee."
"Slow down chum the war council needs fighters. Should it come between you and Tyrion I'm taking the Imp any day of the week." Bronn and Tyrion share a toast while the latter grins.
"Somehow I'm still asking myself why I decide to associate myself with you two outside our small council meetings."
Sam furrows his brows, "Varys I didn't know you were hosting the jousting tournament this week. I'd never guessed you were interested in anything besides...Well what you do exactly."
Varys smirks sipping the Arbor Gold, "I was all too eager accepting our king's offer to host the biggest jousting tournament in the capital's history. I for one despite the kingdom's current state at that particular time always held a love for the grandeur games knights enjoy so much. Only in a game such as that could Loras Tyrell unseat the Mountain a truly different beast than the fighting pit."
"I can't imagine how many contestants are signing up, I've never been much a fan. I had only watched because my brother Dickon did. It gave us something to share in common together." Sam says offering a smile as Varys nods remembering the Tarlys from Hornhill well, Sam's father Randall particularly for his loyal service to the crown.
"Jousting is for fancy knights who can't swing a sword correctly. Real entertainment is the fighting pit tournament only the strongest bravest warriors enter, better luck next year Bronn."
"Entering a tournament that holds no prize reward and after winning it all you declare some lady the queen of love and beauty, yeah thanks but no thanks," Bronn says holding a hand up, "you lost me at no prize money."
"Fair point. The only reward I need." The hosting girls appear sitting on the lounge sofa beside the small council. Tyrion pulls a blonde on his lap running an image of Daenerys through his thoughts grinning at Podrick gulping wine gathering liquid courage before speaking with the raven hair beauty.
"That ones been asking about our ol' boy Pod for weeks. She's new to the city came up from Dorne about a month or two ago."
"Looks like its going swimmingly already."
"Master of ships? What does that entail?" A brunette asks leaning in the cushions as Davos hands her a drink.
"A less important job than you imagine trust me a nutless monkey can do it." He says brightening seeing the woman giggle uncontrollably in a palm.
"Why don't you have your Maester's chain?"
"Its sort of a long story."
"Thats alright we're in no rush."
Sam gently removes her grip, "I appreciate your kindness really I do though I'm married and have a son."
"I see." The tan woman says filling glasses for them both.
He smiles seeing she's content having company talking to someone besides her fellow workers. "I was in the Night's Watch not long ago."
The younger lady's eyes widen in wonder as she places a hand over her mouth finishing the wine practically leaping off the cushions. "Then you must've seen a White Walker?"
"I killed one protecting my wife, she wasn't back then of course."
"How romantic."
"There's no way you have this silk embroiled in this lined cotton design, I've never seen these type of intricate designs Lord Varys." The redhead says crossing a leg over her knee as the spider pours another glass.
"You're far too kind darling, I assure you this robe is simply peasant clothing to what I usually wear though your praise is appreciated."
She sips her goblet moving closer, "perhaps you can show me sometime my lord I'll show you mine should you show me yours." Varys cracks a smile draping an arm over the lounge conversing about the upcoming convocation events.
Tyrion chugs another cup letting remnants leak down sides of his mouth dripping on the tile. He glances around relishing his comrades content moods enjoying themselves to the fullest. His mind is lost gazing at Daenerys's doppelgänger draped across his lap. "Well I'll be damned the Blackfish is in my establishment would've spiffied up the place had I known."
"Brynden Tully is downstairs?" Tyrion hops to the floor heading for the stairs trailed by Bronn.
Brynden heartily laughs drinking with his Rivermen who're known throughout the kingdoms for holding their liquor. He notices his men halt their laughter staring behind him as the two councilmen stand on both sides slightly out of view.
"Tyrion Lannister."
"Bronn of Blackwater."
"Go fuck yourselves." Brynden says finishing his cup glancing over a shoulder at the retreating duo signaling for more bottles continuing to laugh with his bannermen about the event.
"Lord Tully," a bannerman says emerging from the nearby crowds, "Lord Edmure requested your presence near the flea bottom district."
Brynden leans in his seat, "what in the hell is Edmure doing in that shit hole?" Bastard should be with his family not out starting fights he can't finish.'
"Sir? Should we send word you're on your way or should we send a garrison?"
Brynden slams his cup down waving to his bannermen to clear out tossing a bag filled with silver on the table leaving the brothel entering the crowded streets piling with locals; Northmen-Dornishmen- Valemen- Ironborn and the newly arriving bannermen from the Stormlands showing off the Baratheon stag proudly marching through the streets.
"Great just what we need aye? Those Stormland fucks don't know when to shut their mouths." Lord Vance says to another trailing their lord.
"Think they're bad ever met a Dornishman? Only take one of those bastards to start a war." Lord Piper replies.
"Just wait until those Westermen pricks get here then we really got ourselves a problem."
The Blackfish isn't a stranger to tournaments and gatherings celebrating unique individual Westerosi heritage especially during recent years under the reign of King Robert. Though nothing prepared him seeing every country gathered causing the streets to overflow with people shifting in and out every corner. He was skeptical hearing his great nephew Bran would be king growing more skeptical learning he's also the Three Eye Raven. Being honest he didn't believe an entity with an ambiguous power should be an unquestioned ruler; he ponders how much humanity remains in Bran. Before leaving King's Landing they need to speak privately. A glimmer of hope surges through him realizing Westeros is in complete solidarity for the time being. Brynden halts Piper Vance and his bannermen finding Edmure at Flea Bottom's edge.
"Uncle Brynden good you made it." Edmure says draping an arm around shoulder leading the garrison through the streets.
"You better have good reason calling me out to this shit hole."
"Listen I know what you're thinking but no there's some old acquaintances from the Vale that were awaiting your presence." Edmure leads his uncle and the bannermen past the silver and blacksmiths passing through vendor booths and shops packed with people selling inventory exchanging gold and silver.
"Well I'll be a old bloody hound Jonos Bracken and Tytos Blackwood didn't think I'd ever see you two again."
"For fuck's sake I thought you were dead by the look of it you're already halfway there." Jonos says shaking Brynden's hand tightly.
"Goddammit Brynden its been too many years how you been ol' bastard?" Tytos says greeting his old friend as the Blackfish smirks stepping aside.
"Gentlemen you remember my great nephew Edmure," Brynden pats his shoulder proudly as he reintroduces himself to the Vale lords, "he's my heir like an only son and he'll command Riverrun in my stead when I'm six feet under. Hopefully that day comes sooner than later." Edmure steps away glancing toward the marketplace in the capital's heart.
"Excuse me my lords I promised my wife I'd meet with her soon. She gave birth to a boy only months ago I've yet to see them both."
Brynden smiles recalling the Kingslayer's vow Edmure would be reunited with Roslin at the Lannister family home of Casterly Rock. It was thanks to him Edmure never got that chance, "go Edmure see your family I'll see you later tonight." Brynden says smiling proudly watching his great nephew depart. The Blackfish introduces Lords Piper and Vance to Bracken and Blackwood as the four converse about the Kingslayer and his recent crusade through their lands.
Edmure pushes his way through rowdy flea bottom residents and soldiers entering the heart of the capital. He enters a luxury apartment complex dodging occupants lining the halls chattering hurrying in and out of doors. The younger Tully lord heads up the stairs glancing at a small paper halting near the hallways end knocking softly.
The door slowly creeks open revealing Roslin in a scarlet silk dress brunette hair hanging to her waist. It takes little more than a moment before she leaps at Edmure holding tight. "Edmure I'm so glad to see you."
"Aye I'm glad as well." He holds on tighter realizing he nearly lost this chance when he was captured by the Lannister army. "How are you? Did you travel here alright?"
"Yes everything went smoothly." Roslin smiles leading him inside the apartment to the single bedroom down the short hall. The fifth Frey daughter places a finger to her rosy lips, "he fell asleep not too long ago." She says sitting beside the sleeping month old infant.
Edmure places a hand on the knob lingering in the doorway unable to fathom he has a child now. When Roslin first announced she was pregnant she'd made it clear in her prayers for the baby to be born a girl thinking Walder would kill him if it was a boy. He recalls selfishly wishing it would be a girl too in order for his life to be spared for a chance to live a peacefully with Roslin. His biggest regret was not being there for the birth of his first son by his wife's side, perhaps it was the gods punishing him for his selfish prayers. Despite his wanting of a daughter he couldn't have more happy with a son. Since being named heir to Riverrun he will ensure the child will grow to fulfill the same duties as the Tully lords before him. However now he is content seeing Roslin rest a gentle hand on their son. "Does he have a name yet?" He asks kneeling beside his family gazing upon the sleeping infant's rosy face.
"I didn't want to name him without you." Roslin stands from the bed placing her hands in Edmure's. "Since our stay at the Twins I've been calling him Edmund it's all I could think of."
"Edmund, its a good name." He rubs thumbs across his wife's knuckles, "my apologies for not being with you at your stay at the Twins. I should have been there with you and Edmund. Its just my Uncle Brynden needed me—"
"I understand Edmure it's okay." She says grasping his hand leading him to the front room as he shuts the door taking a last glance at the infant. "I can't help feeling responsible for what our union did to your alliance with your Stark family . Don't misunderstand me Edmure I'm very fond of you however I knew about my father's plans to betray the Stark family while you had no idea. I say this because Sansa Stark has arrived in the capital." Roslin leans on Edmure as he holds onto her, " I'll understand if she wants to punish me for what I've done."
Edmure pulls his wife closer leaning back, "I loved my sister Catelyn and nephew Robb very much. I know Sansa felt the same if not more than I did. Listen Roslin, Sansa is good. She's a kind and caring person, the best leader the North can ask for and I promise nothing will happen to you." They share an embrace forgetting about the celebratory wine on the table.
"I still don't understand what we're doing here sir." Harrold says evading people running the opposite direction. One bumps the falcon shield draped over his back hitting the pavement scrambling into the crowd.
Robin halts when Yohn Royce places a hand in front of him evading a Westerland trading cart hurling past them. "Lord Arryn please be careful traversing the capital is different than any other city in Westeros I mistrust these carefree southern folk."
"I'll be more careful Lord Royce." Robin turns to Harrold bumping shoulders with a passing drunkard receiving a 'fuck off.' "Lord Hardyng try and relax you're being coronated in the prestigious kingsguard in only a few days."
"I know Lord Arryn can't help worry about moving my family down here. Gulltown seems like paradise compared to this madness."
"You may rest assured Lord Hardyng the capital isn't usually this hectic nor reeks of this much stinking pigshit." Encouraging words coming from Runestone's lord brought the Vale's first shield no solace his family meant everything without them he holds no purpose.
"You can smell the stink too I swore I was the only one."
"Heavens no Lord Arryn you can smell the shit manure for miles."
"Again my lords I don't understand why we've decided to visit the busiest street in the capital." Harrold says trailing behind Robin and Yohn staring at the Red Keep in the distance having never seen it before.
Robin glances at the Vale's first shield, "we're here to enter in the tournaments scheduled this week. Out of them all I'm looking forward most to the jousting tournament, its drawing the most talk among the kingdoms here." The trio stop at a line gathered noting soldiers from every country in Westeros conversing.
Harrold crosses arms glancing at the sky turning to his lords, "I may be leaving the Vale to become a Kingsgaurd though that goes without saying I wouldn't feel comfortable allowing you to enter any tournaments. All due respect I won't be able to protect you."
Robin smiles resting a hand on his hilt, "you need not worry about me Lord Hardyng. There's a reason I approved the crown's request to integrate you into the honor of being a kingsgaurd when I received a recommendation letter from the small council."
"What reason would that be Lord Arryn?" Harrold questions witnessing a nearby scuffle break out between a Dornishman and Ironborn threatening to involve comrades and passing pedestrians.
An Ironborn raider slams a steel helmet into a Dornishman's temple, "fuckin Dornishman, they start wars over such asinine reasons it borders on stupidity." Yohn snorts at the belligerent Ironborn marching off with fellow soldiers disappearing into masses, they are angry little people willing to steal whatever they can get their grubby hands on.
"I actually second that Lord Royce." Harrold says glancing at the commotion around them. 'I shouldn't bring my family here even if isn't like this all the time. The capital so far's been nothing but trouble.'
"Lines moving quickly Lord Hardyng. I know you're thinking about your family however a word of caution. When your in King's Landing don't ponder too much except about the moment in front of you. Trust me you've seen it yourself so far, this isn't the Eyrie." Robin places hands behind him seeing the line moving along the others eager at the prospect of entering more tournaments to display his skill in front of Westeros's elite. "As for your question earlier Lord Hardyng I feel comfortable saying I can handle myself in some tournaments for entertainment. The only opponent I've lost to is Jon Snow in the entire time I fought. It's doubtful anyone here can match the Warden of the North he was the greatest swordsman I've encountered."
Harrold didn't show the current anger recalling his brief battle with the ranger beyond the wall. "Hate to admit it however I'm inclined to agree. Even if his sword is Valyrian there's no possible way he could've deflected the falcon shield coming at him with that much power behind it. The shield's force should've cracked his sternum as it would an eggshell."
Yohn nods, "Lord Snow is the finest swordsman in your generation Robin." Runestone's lord represses a chuckle, "however all of you are fledglings compared to Barriston Selmy, Arthur Dayne and a whole Jamie Lannister up until the incident during the war. That's what makes your feat so very impressive Lord Hardyng is the falcon shield itself." Harrold glances at the shield staring at its worn war paint and chipped steel. "In the storied history of the Kingsgaurd you're the first to be approved with a shield. There've been numerous not harboring a sword though none with a weapon such as yours."
Harrold grins trailing the pair, "can't argue with that Lord Royce. Just wish we moved more than ten feet while we were speaking."
—
XXX
—
"I really wish you could visit the North one day if you're not busy commanding the Kingsguard." Sansa says sitting on Brienne's lounge as the knight takes a seat across the Northern Queen.
Brienne smiles knowing how hard it is for Sansa leaving Winterfell she nearly sacrificed everything to obtain it from the Boltons. "I'm not sure when the next time I'll have leave but I vow to visit you. I'm sure Bran will be happy to see you its been awhile since you two last saw each other."
"Yes its felt like years. How's he doing? I know he doesn't enjoy being bothered so I let him be yet I can't help worry how he's doing."
"The king is well. Its as I said in my previous letters he doesn't sleep much from what Podrick tells me I'm not sure he does at all. Your brother is doing the best he can like we all are at our duty. His ability is something none of us can understand. I will say since his coronation things have steadily improved in my eyes."
Sansa sighs grasping the goblet tighter unsure wether to disclose the information, "I don't know how to say this Brienne..."
"Go on Lady Sansa you know anything you say stays between us."
"I love my brother more than anything. At some point I have to accept he's not really the Bran I knew growing up. Sounds silly right? After what we all went through none of us are the same kids we were growing up in Winterfell. The Three Eye raven is something else." Sansa's hands clenches her gray dress turning her knuckles pale. "I know he can see certain things yet I didn't have a clue the extent of it. When he returned beyond the wall I was so happy to see him again. Bran mentioned he saw me during my wedding ceremony underneath the Godswood. Sometimes I wonder wether the old Bran is in there somewhere. Apologies again for bothering you with this Brienne."
"Its quite alright. I understand you feel that way, truth be told none of us knew how to react realizing our king has the power to traverse through every past event at any given moment being able to warg into ravens keeping an eye on the realm and other happenings occurring around the world. You should talk to him sometime this week during the festivities. He's extremely busy with everything though I'm sure he'd love nothing more than seeing you."
"I can only hope so Lady Brienne."
"If you don't mind me asking where exactly did Arya travel sailing out west? In hindsight sounds simple enough. She could've asked Bran what resides there instead of sailing without a particular destination in mind."
"I suggested that before we left here during our last summit here. Arya is a free spirit. She chose to forgo any prior knowledge about what lays beyond the Sunset Sea—I miss her more than anything."
"Well I'm sure she'll return to you soon I would try not worrying about it for now." The Kingsguard commander knows Sansa won't ever stop worrying for her family. It doesn't mean she can't enjoy her time during the week stay in King's Landing. The pair laugh sipping their wine ignoring the noise in the next room over. The doors slams shut as the apartment goes silent.
Edric, Gerold and Allyria Dayne sit across from each other as the eldest leans on the cushions resting a hand over his eyes. "For what reason do we need to fulfill these obligations and come to this fucking convocation? This city is dirty filled with nothing but pigshit I could care less what goes on here."
"Cousin you know we're required to stay updated on the affairs not just affecting Dorne as a whole. This is arguably the most important week in Westeros's history." The lord of Starfall says pouring three wine cups passing them around the table.
"Our little lord is correct we needed to attend Gerold. What would others think of us should one of Westeros's eldest established houses vacate ourselves from the week long festival."
Gerold pushes the sweet wine away pulling out a sack of fresh lemons filling a goblet with water unsheathing a short dagger cutting a lemon in slices squeezing it into the cup, "that is a load of horseshit Allyria. When was the last time the crown ever called on the great House Dayne for anything? Coming here to this convocation is a waste of our time. Besides I'm apart of the cadet branch High Hermitage not the great house itself as I reiterate its pointless from my position."
Edric smiles widely as Allyria chuckles louder at Gerold's usual broody nature. "As I recall the last time the crown called upon House Dayne to serve was when uncle Arthur was a kingsgaurd under Aerys II."
"I do fondly recall the time we'd be told stories of his heroic deeds. I truly wish we got to know him."
"Its thanks to that bastard breeder Eddard Stark we didn't. You ask me that might be for the best; had he survived you would never be lord of shit and you'd be married off to some noble cunt lord in some shithole keep. Arthur receives too much praise earning infamy in today's age from being slain by a Stark."
"Ah come on Gerold don't be a jackass. Uncle Arthur is one of the most legendary knights in all our history. What's that one story you've always shared with us? I never tiring hearing it."
"Yes yes please tell it Gerold no one can as you do."
"Alright if I tell the tale its the last time and no begging me to do this shit."
The Kingswood Brotherhood scatter throughout the forest chanting a war cry making their final stand. The king's forces scamper across the open field prompting them to take cover behind the great redwood trees. The Smiling Knight holds a long sword in one hand and broad axe in the other. He stands beside Simon Toyne leader of the brotherhood. "What honor do we have that King Aerys sends the commander of his kingsgaurd and a garrison to finish mercenaries." The Smiling Knight stares down the crown's charging soldiers as Simon yells for his forces to proceed hoisting their banner in the air.
A young newly initiated Jamie Lannister stands a step behind Barriston Selmy staring at the charging brotherhood watching flaming arrows cut through the fog. "Back boy." Barriston grabs Jamie placing him behind a nearby tree. The arrows clip their forces throwing them from their horses forcing them to stand their ground charging toward the brotherhood fighters. "Stay down." Jamie heaves frosting the air feeling Barriston dive headfirst in the fray.
Jamie peers around the tall redwood taking cover as an arrow chips through the thick bark nearly blinding him. The young kingsgaurd witnesses their forces speed past him through the fog clashing against the brotherhood. He heaves once more gathering his nerve seeing a fellow soldier cut down with ease. Jamie parries a brotherhood grunt's sword slicing him from neck to belly rescuing an ally. The shakiness from King's Landing until crossing Wendwater River is gone. He's a prodigy trained under Sumner Crakehall and more recently Ser Barriston himself.
"Lord Selmy!" Jamie evades a wild swing slashing a grunts nape plunging the broadsword through another's sternum driving him to his knees kicking him off the blade. Jamie catches a white cloak in the near distance sprinting for it spinning out a lunging spears path slicing a soldier's throat battling two grunts at once letting the natural lion instincts and superior training take hold cutting off one's hand proceeding to stab his sword into the others chest using the half dead warrior as cover seeing a second wave of flaming arrows descend on the battlefield.
Barriston marches at a steady pace calculating every charging enemies from all angles. Barriston cuts through five enemy grunts weaving his way toward the brotherhood leaders.
"I'll take this one—"
"No," Simon halts the Smiling Knight drawing his sword out its scabbard, "he defeated you last time you crossed paths I'll cut this Kingsguard fuck down."
Simon charges through the fog cutting past the king's soldiers rushing him noticing a white cloak drift in and out of sight noticing brotherhood bannermen slaughtered one by one. Simon blocks Ser Barriston's blindside strike clashing against the king's commander. "Got alotta guts tracking us to our stead. I'll have to personally send your head to King Aerys to prove we can't be stopped."
"If you want to kill me it won't be done exchanging words." Barriston blocks Simon's wild swings evading the last one slashing his chainmail plates stumbling the Kingswood Brotherhood leader.
The Smiling Knight pursues a soldier crawling for his sword burying the axe through his skull. He faces Ser Arthur Dayne watching him dismount drawing Dawn off his back striding to the grinning Smiling Knight. "Your late. I was beginning to think the great 'sword of the morning,' tucked tailed and ran back to his king."
Arthur's eyes are sharp vigilant to the chaos surrounding him. He offers a lazy smile keeping his attention on the mad knight meters away. "You took advantage of the small folk here for too long as well as Houses Wendwater and Fell it was only a matter of time before your misdeeds caught up with you."
"You can act all self righteousness, how many enemies have you slain without question in the name of your king. You're no hero Ser Dayne."
Arthur's smile widens nearly becoming a chuckle, "no suppose I'm not. I do the right thing whenever I see the opportunity."
The Smiling Knight shakes overcome by rage, "I'm done listening to you." He tears a sword strike clashing against Dawn unable to move from him. Arthur bashes his spiked helmet in the Smiling Knight's chin sending him reeling cracking his jaw back in place. The Smiling Knight charges at Arthur swinging forcefully in order to break House Dayne's legendary sword.
Simon falls to a knee clutching the bleeding slashes across his chest staring at Ser Barriston's sword residing near his throat. "You're beaten Lord Toyne. You'll be taken before the king to answer for the atrocities you and your brotherhood committed over the years. This time you're not escaping capture."
Simon drops the sword in hand grasping flaming ash and dirt off a nearby torch tossing it in Ser Barriston's face causing him to stumble. Simon picks up the sword running to impale Ser Barriston halted by Jamie. Simon growls backfisting the worn Kingsgaurd raising his sword to stab the young man. Barriston blocks the blade his face boiling full with anger, "you dare attempt striking down my ward!" In one swift motion the Kingsguard commander sends Simon's sword flying impaling him.
The Smiling Knight's strikes are quick and heavy placing Arthur on the defense backing him down further. Arthur evades and parrying each swing causing his sword to chip away. The knight is aware of Dawn and its debatable mystical origins. It means nothing- a sword is merely a sword-forged steel, nothing more. Dawn has a breaking point as any other blade does eventually he'll find it. The Smiling Knight misses a lunge as Arthur evades slicing three quarters of his blade off leaving him vulnerable.
Arthur plunges Dawn in the soil noticing Barriston and Jamie triumph signaling their forces are in control of the battle. "Whats he doing Ser? He should kill the disarmed enemy immediately."
"Watch and learn young lion."
"Find a suitable sword so we may continue our battle." Arthur says watching the mad knight snatch a blade out a dead warrior's hand weighing the hilt in his hand.
"I always wanted to be like you hearing people clamor about the great Ser Arthur Dayne, 'sword of the morning.'" The Smiling Knight glares at the Kingsguard raising his sword. "I desire nothing more than to cut off your inflated head!" He charges rearing his sword as Arthur remains unmoved.
The Smiling Knight raises the sword unable to halt as Arthur draws Dawn from the dirt slashing as the knight stumbles past him. The brotherhood first commander faces Arthur watching his sword break in half. Arthur drapes Dawn across his back seeing the Smiling Knight crumple to the dirt bleeding out in seconds.
"Astonishing Ser so that's what a Valyrian blade can do."
"If you believe it was the Valyrian sword that won this battle and the previous ones you've got more to learn. Come boy there's more work to be done before we return to King's Landing." Jamie watches Arthur ride across the torn battlefield unbelieving a knight rivaled his mentor. The young lion snaps out his daze hearing Ser Barriston's shout for him hurrying to his mentor' s side.
"Gerold tell us the rest of the tale. I could listen to stories about uncle Arthur all day please sing another."
Gerold throws his feet on the table, "no told you both I'm done talking about Ser Arthur Dayne, we got better things to do this week than being held up here telling old tales of the past."
"I almost forgotten. Gerold are you entering the tournaments? You should sign up before it gets too late."
"What the hell did you think I was doing this morning? I made sure to enter jousting, the fighters pit and of course archery." Gerold slices the skin off an apple having the habit since childhood. "Wonder who's entering this year? All the knights are nameless or too old to fight having become lords years ago. I'm disappointed Jon Snow the Queenslayer and former 998th Lord Commander of the Night's Watch was recently named Warden of the North—"
Edric coughs pounding his chest downing the food, "the Queenslayer is back in Westeros? How do you know this information Gerold?"
Allyria clutches her dress tightly hearing the news, "don't hold out on us Gerold. The last I heard he was sentenced beyond the wall in exile living with the free folk. The one person who could've slayed the dragon queen saving Westeros from becoming ashes is treated like a criminal."
"The northern soldiers can't keep their fucking mouths shut, they talk as if he's some god. I'll give credit where its due any watchmen who is elected leader of the Night's Watch commands respect. The prideful Northmen talk about him as if he's the greatest swordsman they've ever seen. He returned before the caravan left was named warden going his own way soon after."
"Any idea where he went?"
"Remember Edric he was sentenced by the king himself who's also his brother. I'm sure even if he's fulfilling an obligation I doubt he'd be able to attend. Lord Snow is a fugitive in the crown's eyes." Allyria says.
"Your beautiful mind never ceases to amaze me Allyria." Gerold offers a genuine smile knowing without Allyria House Dayne wouldn't hold as much merit as it stands currently. He isn't blind to his cousin's outward beauty its only a matter of time before suitors around the six other kingdoms in attendance take notice of her. Allyria kept to her silence having rejected marriage proposals for the past three years unwilling to leave Starfall. Edric and himself have always reassured Allyria without her presence their house will falter. Despite the family squabbles they loved each other putting one another's needs before their own. Allyria and Edric are the only two people in the world who mean anything to him. "I asked a northern group while they were scouting a campsite this morning. They kept tight lipped about the situation its obvious where he went."
"You mean he went after the missing Stark sister...The hero of Winterfell, the one who slayed the Night King."
"You know her Edric?"
"No however I was hoping to meet her since the Queen in the North Sansa Stark is in attendance. She saved Westeros from White Walkers, I hope wherever Arya Stark is she got there safely so I can personally thank her. It's because of her Starfall and the rest of Dorne didn't mobilize a resistance militia."
"Rumors say she sailed west, ain't no comin back from that. As for the dead I refuse to believe it until I see it. For all we know the northern pricks could've slaughtered wildlings invading south of the wall due to the Night's Watch dwindling forces and internal dysfunction claiming it to be walkers to hide their crimes and gain notoriety," Gerold pours a third draping an arm over the cushions, "I just hope the competition lives up to its billing otherwise this will be a complete waste of time."
Allyria picks up a lemon throwing it at Gerold. The lemon bounces off the wall hitting Edric. The young lord rubs the aching spot tossing a pear at Gerold hitting his cheek splattering nectar remnants over his face causing Allyria to burst into laughter. Gerold glances at Allyria to Edric who's out of his chair, "I'll give you a head start." Gerold says wiping the remnants chasing his younger cousin around the room as Allyria stands trying to halt their playful nature.
—
XXX
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Tyrion and the small council spread through the brothel mingling with high lords from the six countries. Bronn pulls Tyrion away from the Reach Lords pointing to a booth across the room. "Did you have any idea Oberyn's eldest bastard Doran Martell is here?"
"Yes the new ruler of Dorne taking reign after his uncle and father the previous monarchs. I heard he obtained more money than the crown's treasury. Take full advantage of this moment."
"Don't gotta tell me twice I'm chargin the bastard double. I say we go over there we introduce ourselves. He's technically part of our summit committee who knows maybe he'll be apart of the war council as well."
Doran Martell laughs toasting his table turning to the approaching duo, "Tyrion Lannister the kings hand and I don't recall—"
"Ser Bronn of Highgarden good to meet a fellow ruler such as yourself." Tyrion and Bronn exchange handshakes as the Dornish raise glasses pounding the table.
"Prince Doran if we could speak for a moment in previete..." Tyrion laughs nearly falling to his knees as Bronn hunches over in hysterics. The Dornish table erupt watching their prince regaining his well kept composure. Tyrion uses Bronn leveraging himself up straightening his uniform pouring a drink. "All levity aside we have an urgent matter we need to discuss prince Doran."
"What would that be my lords? As you can see I've already started my party early and I must say Ser Bronn your establishment rivals the best in Sunspear. I had my eye on your merchandise," he says eyeing passing girls throwing him glances, "the girls," Doran roams the room finding a pair of men conversing, "and the boys."
Bronn arches his brows following the Dornish prince's gaze, "the boys ain't mine feel free to have a go for it knock yourself out as for the girls that'll cost you coin." The former sellsword makes a mental note to employ men in his brothels next time the Dornish visit the capital forgetting how open their relations were.
A bird keeps watch behind a column waiting until Doran Tyrion and Bronn leave out to a side patio slipping past lords, wealthy patrons, soldiers and workers running up the stair finding Varys in the place he specified in a message sent that morning. Varys thanks the bird placing silver in his hand sending the kid away unscrolling the small parchment tucking it underneath a sleeve as Davos Podrick and Sam return carrying food trays and wine. Varys stands heading to the stair bidding the other departing pleasantries.
"Where are you going Varys we don't need to return to the council chambers until tonight. Did the king send a message to report now?" Sam asks.
Varys keeps an eye on the passing staff outside their booth, "that won't be necessary I've forgotten to handle a priority of mine this morning before the council meeting. This matter needs my attention I shall rejoin you all later."
"Varys left?" Davos asks. Podrick half asleep sings the name Jeyne repeatedly still holding a full wine cup.
"He said he forgot business earlier and went to tend to it."
"That's strange. Can't recall Varys forgetting anything he's obsessive about minor details."
"Do you think we should follow him you know just in case its important. Doesn't feel right leaving him to his own devices at this time."
"I'm pretending I heard what you said." The master of ships toasts a woozy Podrick biting into a bread loaf, "whatever Varys is up to its no concern of ours, there's plenty we dont know about him. The only thing that matters is he's on our side."
"I'm glad we could come to terms prince Doran." Tyrion says exchanging pleasantries with Dorne's ruler as Bronn does the same quickly wiping his hand off.
"Same Lord Tyrion its in Dorne's best hopes you enjoy the Arbor wine. Dorne lacks the proper necessities to harvest and farm a sustainable crop during our seasons. It means a lot Highgarden will go out of its way feeding our people."
"Enjoy King's Landing I'm sure we'll run into each other during the week." Prince Doran rejoins his boisterous table singing for all too hear.
"That's the last time I do you a favor." Bronn says walking toward an empty table leftover with wine.
"I just filled out our reserve wine cellars for the next two years and you're complaining about it." Tyrion says as Bronn pours a drink, "besides I enjoyed his company much more mild mannered than his uncle Doran yet much less reserved than Oberyn."
"He's the son of a whore end of story—" Bronn is tackled through a table sending Tyrion to the marble floor. The knight kicks table debris aside drawing his sword out its scabbard.
"Get up you piece of shit! I finally get to kill the man who slayed my younger brother Ser Vardis Egen."
Bronn spits blood wiping his nose unable to stop the bleeding. He sits up rising steadily waving off people rushing to aid. "Doesn't ring a bell I've killed a lot of unlucky cunts remind me which one your brother was."
"You fought in a trial by combat for that imp!" Jace Egen shouts pointing at Tyrion. "And you fought dishonorably throwing my brother out the Eyrie moon door. It took weeks to recover a body all that remained was his bones."
"Still not ringing a bell."
Jace approaches Bronn drawing his sword, "I'll cut you to fucking pieces not before I make you remember who my brother was."
"As much as I wish to see a fight at the moment. The fault was mine that day at the Eyrie. Bronn fought as my champion during the trail by combat decreed by Lysa Arryn. It wasn't an accident nor was it intentional either—" Bronn blocks Jace's sword parrying his swings. Bronn evades ducking under the blade circling around a table.
Bronn kicks over a table halting Jace's charge matching sword strikes Jace kicks the overturned table bringing an overhead swing on a retreating Bronn. "Don't run you bastard! Stand your ground ground fight like a man!"
Bronn slashes Jace's chest plates sending steel flying. Soldiers roar pushing Tyrion back circling around the two fighters ensuring they will finish what was started. Sam squints peering over the third story railing, "is that Bronn down there in a fight?"
"What else is new?"
"Shouldn't we go down there and try stopping their duel what if something happens Davos?"
"If he dies he dies Sam I'm looking the other way." Davos gulps away watching Sam drag a half sleep Podrick down the stairs. "Fucking seven hells." Davos snatches a nearby Arbor following the pair.
Bronn never claimed to be a top fighter in Westeros during his tenure content to stand behind Jamie Lannister in terms of swordsmanship. He made his money in successful assassination work building a less than reputable reputation over the years. He never sought to match the strength of the Cleganes, could never match nor find the need to be honorable as the Starks, nor did he have the lust for power as Lannisters did. An underhanded clever assassin is how he made his name 'of the Blackwater.' There is good reason he's the only knight of his name though he'd never admit to it. Jace pursues Bronn pulling out dagger throwing it at the former sellsword forcing him to evade. He unsheathes his own short blades clipped on his belt tossing them at the Vale Knight grazing steel as the last one lodges between Jace's shoulder and arm plate impaling his arm.
Jace removes the dagger tossing them back at the owner hitting the bar table stretching across the back of the main room as Bronn crouches behind taking a quick swig from a half full bottle leaping over the top reengaging their duel taking a more aggressive stance driving Jace back. The crowd roars louder witnessing Bronn disarm the knight placing a blade at his throat. "You're fortunate its the first day of the festivities otherwise I would've gutted you already."
Civilian spectators exit hurrying out the front doors piling onto the pavement hearing horns playing loudly. Most soldiers remain watching Jace take Bronn through another table pulling out a dagger driving it toward Bronn's heart. The blade inches closer as the two struggle. Bronn flips over Jace turning his dagger on him. "Wait wait wait hold on wait—" Bronn shoves the blade tip in his chest silencing the words slamming the hilt forcing it deeper. He hits the blade a final time as Jace falls still. The fellow knights and lords follow the rest in disbelief an exciting battle ended in a dishonorable way.
Bronn sits up swiping a nearby Arbor Gold uncorking it, "didn't need your help, see had it handled." He says wiping the blood off his chin showing the small council.
"One of these days an opportunity like this will present itself when it does I might not help you next time." Tyrion says grinning.
"Good." Bronn replies.
"You got lucky." Davos says eyeing Jace Eger's corpse staining blood into the marble floor. "What do guys suppose we do with him?"
Bronn climbs to his feet pulling out the dagger wiping the blood off. He strides over to Podrick draped on Sam's shoulder barley standing upright slapping him roughly waking the young kingsgaurd. "Bloody hell Bronn what was that for?" Sam questions as Podrick awakens glancing around drunkenly.
"Because I felt like doing it. Come on I need your help this time Pod." Bronn says staring at the body turning blue from blood loss. "Grab the other side I'll take his legs— Sam I'm slapping you next if you puke on my floors." He points to the entrance hauling the body out the back with a stumbling Podrick trailing.
Sam is first outside holding onto a wall puking around the corner. Davos and Tyrion watch the crowd converse about the Stormland banners held high in the air marching toward the Red Keep.
"For fuck's sake it's about time those Stormmen and Mercher lords show up. What's so great about the Stormlands? Lived there my whole life ain't notin there but a bunch of fortresses and small towns surrounded in forestry. Don't even get me started on the weather it changes quicker than a tavern whores feelings at the end of a night."
"You need not remind me I've been on the receiving end plenty of times Lord Davos." Tyrion glances at Sam still leaning on the brothel's stone exterior, "there's no doubt about it the convocation is truly beginning. Houses Mertyn of Mistwood Morrigen of Crow's Nest Grandison of Grandview Swann Dondarrion Connington Selmy Penrose and Wylde. It wouldn't be Westeros's biggest event to date without the Stormlands in attendance. I don't see House Seaworth anywhere they should've due to your status."
"Just because I'm lord and master of ships for the king doesn't mean my house rises in front of these notable ones. Having grown up in the harsh Stormlands I took the first chance to get out of there when I could becoming a merchant trader and I for one am glad for it. Though now that you mention it I don't see Tarth either."
Sam rejoins the pair holding a hand over his chest, "House Tarth informed Brienne they weren't attending a short time after we sent out invitations. Apparently there's been rumors their island is going through civil unrest between the lords and small folk."
Tyrion sips his goblet admiring the bronze armor the Stormmen wear recalling the one time he requested his armor to be made similar only for Tywin to laugh remarking, 'the Baratheon and Tyrell wear Bronze- Tully Stark Arryn wear their silver and Lannisters always wear gold.' "Well I'll be damned Gendry Baratheon Lord of Storm's End arrives." Tyrion says as they witness him weave through bannermen chanting ours is the fury as he rides faster toward their destination. "You've come a long way from being a blacksmith in Flea Bottom bastard. Come on our drinking day is just getting started."
—
XXX
—
Greyworm and Daario climb up the dry rocky hillside miles outside Meereen glancing over the edge to the sand dunes hundreds of meters below. Greyworm grabs Daario's outstretched hand hoisting him onto an elevated plateau. "Not much farther now I can hear Drogon we'll reach the summit soon." Daario says dusting himself off leading the way up. "Its good having you back Greyworm city hasn't been the same without you or the Unsullied presence."
"After we left Naath and before I saw Daenerys again I began questioning my purpose for the first time. When we took King's Landing from Queen Cersei I was named commander of her forces. We were supposed to conquer Westeros cleansing the land of its filth. I missed my only chance to save the two who were closest to me. Now Daenerys is queen once more I have hope once again and I'm never failing her again."
Daario offers a nod, "I don't place any blame on you just so you know. I've never cried since I was a child. When I found out what happened I never cried more. Awhile ago I was thinking of leaving Meereen all together going back to leading the second sons into a life of pillaging again. Then our queen made the decision to leave to Westeros. I knew that day was coming we all did, the moment it happened I wanted nothing more than to stay by her side on her crusade through Westeros." Daario chuckles staring up at flames rippling through the air unable to contain a grin, "in the back of my mind I knew it would never work. I'm a greedy sellsword and Daenerys is a queen. I really am starting to sound like Ser Jorah."
Greyworm offers a smile climbing up the steep goat path, "you do sound as Ser Jorah once did," Daario chuckles once more following the Unsullied commanders tracks. "Ser Jorah was the one good honorable man I knew from Westeros. He stayed with our queen sacrificing his life to keep her safe. Its what I should've done as chief commander to her armies."
"Yes Jorah was one of the finest and loyalist men I knew its a shame what happened." Daario grimaces staring at Drogon's wings stretching high in the air, "what was the name of that Targaryen bastard who stuck a knife in Daenerys's heart?"
"His name is Jon Snow of House Stark the next time I see him I'll kill him." Greyworm says taking Daario's aid climbing up the ledge.
"I was about to suggest the same perhaps we should make a competition of it."
Greyworm smiles, "that's the best suggestion I've heard in awhile." They continue their ascent nearly at the top having reached past the point of receiving proper oxygen slowing their progress.
Daario glances at Greyworm frowning slightly, "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. Should it mean anything I just want to say I'm sorry, truly I am my friend."
"I appreciate your condolences. My only regret is I didn't have an opportunity to fulfill a promise I made returning Missandei to Naath a free woman. Nothing like that will come along again for me that part of my life is over."
"Take it from a piece of shit like me its never too late to change your mind." The pair stand meters from Drogon diving away from boulders tumbling down the mountain smashing a ram sending the herd down the elevated hills. Fire erupts in the sky as the duo reach Daenerys laying on Drogon's back staring out a Meereen in the distance. "My queen are you up there?"
Daenerys appears after a moment sliding down Drogon landing on the ground as he roars at her commanders. She places a hand on his snout silencing him. "What are you both doing here? You chased after me all the way from Meereen."
"We had to ensure your safety first my queen." Daario says moving aside as Greyworm steps forward unable to take his eyes off Daenerys.
The pair share an embrace. "I still can't believe you're alive Greyworm I'm so relieved." Daenerys pulls away meeting his gaze, "I'm so sorry about what happened I had wanted to be there if only I'd known—"
Greyworm shakes his head, "you don't owe me an apology my queen I should be apologizing to you for allowing what happened in Kings Landing I failed you." The Unsullied commander glances to the horizon toward the bay beyond Meereen. "I couldn't give Missandei a proper burial. Her native island is inhabited by poisonous butterflies killing anyone not born there."
Daenerys glances at her feet recognizing her own feelings for Missandei, "we both failed my friend." Daenerys sighs recalling the first time they met. "She's an irreplaceable part of my life as I know she will always be in yours my friend."
Greyworm nods placing hands behind his back. "I'm glad to be back my queen once again I pledge myself to your service."
"Shall we return to Meereen your grace I'm sure your hand is eager to stand beside you. She's sent ravens to the rulers from the Dragon Bay cities who should be arriving in a few days. We best prepare as soon as we return."
Daenerys smiles glancing between the pair as she climbs on Drogon assisting Daario up as her commander remains unmoved from his position. "What are you waiting for Greyworm Drogon doesn't bite I assure you."
Greyworm stands taller raising his chin, "all due respect my queen I'm going to take the long way back to Meereen I don't fare well with heights."
"I command you to climb onto Drogon."
"Is this an order?"
"Yes."
Greyworm grimaces glancing at Daenerys's playful smile unable to resist returning it. Greyworm sits behind Daenerys noticing Daario lounging grabbing onto a spike releasing a yawn, "word of advice don't look down whatever you do." Greyworm doesn't have any time to adjust as Drogon soars in the atmosphere bursting through the cloudscape.
Daenerys glances at Greyworm his eyes remain shut tightly. "Go ahead look Greyworm its alright." Daenerys says holding her arms out. Greyworm opens his eyes slowly peering over Daenerys's shoulder unable to believe how high they are flying. Daenerys smiles warmly at the pair pulling on Drogon's spike sending them into a free fall jetting toward Meereen's pyramid.
—
XXX
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Jon stands on the Lonely Light islands cliff side staring out west at a distant coastal rock hosting a family of sea lions protruding through the waves. Lord Farwynd informed them there is nothing beyond their house's isle except a few small islands with nothing but houses belonging to their people. It took a week for Yara and him to sail to this point he can only assume it will take a lot more time to find Arya across the Sunset Sea. He glances at Yara and a host of Farwynd soldiers escorting Euron and Moqorro below the Iron Victory's deck.
It would've been simple leaving Euron and Moqorro imprisoned or better yet executing them saving him trouble. However he trusts Yara if she says Euron's the best sailor on earth who the hell's he to go against her word he needs to find Arya before its too late.
Jon watches the Farwynd men load the vessel with supplies tossing ropes on deck rolling barrels into the hull. The rest of the Iron Islands consider Farwynd people queer. Its said they had strange mystical connections to their Drowned God having been given the ability to skin change into all types of sea creatures. The longer he stays here the more he begins to believe the rumors the Iron Islands is cursed as the Northerners would say. He supposes it doesn't matter the Ironborn also told stories of Krakens, Leviathans and Sea Dragons roaming the Sunset Sea. This only fuels his determination to sail toward Essos searching every corner in order to reach Arya. "Lord Snow preparations to your ship is nearly complete. It was an honor hosting you after all you've done for the Iron Islands." Jon shakes Lord Farwynds hand thanking him before he departs returning to his fortress.
Jon glances around the Iron Victory admiring the Vessel having been informed it was the fastest and most durable among the fleet. He strolls to the bridge placing a hand on the wheel staring out at endless open ocean. "That's my spot Lord Snow." Yara says coming from below deck taking position.
"Anything I can do? I'm not much help don't know a whole lot about sailing."
"Thats alright Lord Snow. I'll handle it until we sail a few days from here. Can you handle being first mate?"
"I was taught by former lord commander if I want to learn to lead I should follow. I'll help you in anyway I can. It can come in handy if I happen to set sail again one day."
"Alright then Lord Snow do the honors and unfurl the sails." Jon nods striding you the main deck pulling the ropes off the masts tying them down setting the Iron Victory in motion gliding along the waves leaving House Farwynd and the Iron Islands behind. He stands at the ship helm praying Arya will wait for him wherever she's at.