Shifts of Change

The rock was busy and Tywin wondered why exactly only to see the ship off his shores. The ship with the sails of red with a great dire creature, it had the head of a wolf and body of a dire cat, the wings of a dragon and tail of hawk along with the markings of one. His son had sent a raven past the border of Essos to broach an alliance with the clan long at war with his grandfather's. The house was Dawnshae; his son was already on the shores waiting for them. Dawnshae were feared by the Targaryen line and others who loved their flying creatures, why, because they were the very first dragon slayers and tamers of monsters.

Farfella joined him and watched, "Our lion is planning ahead, better to secure your enemies by becoming the threat to the mutual enemy. The Dawnshae can be monsters, I saw one growing up, the son of the king of Shade, he was just beginning his own reign within, and if his daughter turned out anything like him she will be formidable. Women are taught to fight in the Shade lands. If you can't lift a sword you are useless, monsters hunt monsters." She mused.

Tywin considered her words and hmm'd but moved to get dressed, he would be there to greet these monsters himself as well as that of his children. Talyn greeted him with Tywinel; the men were more to attention. The Dawnshae landed and disembarked onto his shores. The king of Shade wasn't there after all he was no longer the king, no what stepped forward was his oldest child, his daughter and Queen of the shade. The fifteen year old was so damn pale, with hair as black as night, lips as red as rose, the left eye was actually silver white the right eye was green gold fire. Ears having cuffs to them, her hair was extremely long down her back braided with metal not leather. Her circlet was leather with metal. Her pale porcelain face had marks on the left side, like dessert cracks needing water, the scars were strangely a gold color. Stepping onto the shore her stride was swift but graceful. She wore pants and a tunic with armor to it, armored bracers and shin guards. She had two swords at her hip tied by a strange sash belt. Her attire was red with black and silver stitching with dark leather.

She stopped facing Tywinel and he bowed his head she bowed hers, eyes on each other. She followed them back to the keep to discuss alliance with his son. Tywin felt a bit tense and he couldn't place why, even with the scars she was actually quite beautiful.

"What happened to your queen?" He asked her maester as they watched over the proceedings from a distance.

"She fought a massive serpent sent to assassinate her entire family from Dorn. Her scars are from the venom burning her skin, the only thing to stop it was to use what we had in the blacksmith shop, and gold was set into the burning wounds. It ate the venom but left its mark. The handles of those swords used to be its fangs. In revenge of it swallowing her horse," he mused.

Tywin glanced him and realized he wasn't joking and reminded himself never to go that far from Westeros. Looking at her, young Ruelle Dawnshae had faced a monster and lived, remembering Farfella's words, those who couldn't pick up a sword were useless. Monsters hunted monsters.

Riding out together she surveyed the lands; saw how the Lannisters ruled what was theirs. She didn't wear a hood or hide her countenance. She was who she was, looking at people and not offended at their stares. That made Farfella smirk, one family was getting harassed at the edges though and Ruelle dismounted and listened watching the feud. The wife begged them to stop the other man went to slap her and his wrist got grabbed looking he started seeing her face.

"What the hell are you!?" He spat.

"The Judgment, the Reaper, the Devil, take your pick, but harm a woman who is pregnant and you'll die where you stand." She pulled the woman away behind her to her husband being helped up.

Tywin glared at the man and he realized who she was with. Devil sounded an apt word for her right now; he had the debt dropped and a 'lesson' given to the other man. The woman hesitated grabbing her arm and Ruelle looked at her. She blinked when Ruelle put a small bit of coin in her hand.

"Tell that husband of yours to see my squire, the lessons are on me, just eat." She walked away from the overwhelmed and grateful woman.

Tywin could see why people followed her and respected her from this aspect. Heading back to the keep she ate with them but left shortly after to join his knights. Watching from the window, she was with her own knights. They were sparring and yelling, the Mountain was there to watch her as was his orders. Watching her knock back a drink she undid her belt dropping it on the table. Unlacing her bracers she dropped them and hopped the fence pulling back her sleeves. One of her men moved but she did dodging his haymaker and hit him and again. Getting hit to the face she answered with a head butt.

Fighting in the spar, the men yelled shocking the Lannister knights and Gregor who watched her now uncrossing his arms. She was fast and could hit like a man and take a hit like one. Knocking his ass to the ground she was on him and wailing until she knocked him out, soaked in the rain, knuckles bleeding like her lip she was up and yelling. There was wildness there, fierceness, Gregor shivered actually. If he didn't know any better he would say Ruelle was a man. The Queen had a nickname, War borne; she had the nickname because she had been born on a battlefield.

Her mother had been fighting and refused to ignore the call of her husband's banner men and call to arms. It resulted in her going into labor and having Ruelle, born on the sunrise of a blood red sun and field. She was stronger than her brothers and named her father's true successor to the land of Shade, the land of monsters. They were called the Huntsman, hopping the fence taking a drink from a man and downing it. Holding up the empty glass, her man yelled, and she tossed it to a Knight.

"Young man came from hunting faint, tired and weary, what does ail my Lord, my dearie?" She suddenly sung out.

"Oh, brother dear, let my bed be made. For I feel the gripe of the woody nightshade." The knights frowned but hers that banged their cups.

"Men need a man would die as soon, Out of the light of a mage's moon. But it's not by bone, but yet by blade. Can break the magic that the devil made, and it's not my fire, but was forged in flame. Can drown the sorrows of a huntsman's pain." The other knights with her began to sing it with her; it was from the land of shade.

Gregor blinked and felt oddly lively hearing the song from her and the knights of Shade. They were a fighting people; they lived by their convictions and skill and died by the blade.