MATTHEW
Matthew's kick struck the man directly in his jaw, and the man let out a scream which quickly turned into a harried chortle. His bottom teeth are broken, and they're falling down his throat.
Matthew knew this because he heard the teeth crack and shatter, a sound similar, though duller, than glass breaking. He heard the bits of teeth bounce down his throat, as his throat contractions painted an eloquent picture of his body; the poor fool was soaking in fear induced hormones, making it all the more easier for his senses to "see" him. He's going to have a hard time passing those teeth, Matthew thought with a grim sense of humor before dodging a dagger swipe from behind. He ducked as the dagger sliced through the air, and he swerved and kicked the attacker's legs out from under him.
Like his friend, this man was easy to see. Before he even swung the dagger Matthew could hear the muscles in his right arm tense up and the subtle creak of his finger bones as he tightened his grip around the dagger's hilt. Seeing with his nose and ears gave him this advantage.
The man fell on his back, hard, and let out a pained grunt when Matthew slammed his head to the ground. The man instantly went unconscious, and Matthew stood there over the man's body, cocking his head to the side.
He had a small fracture at the back of his skull, the cracks making a slight swooshing sound as Matthew listened to it. There was minor swelling at the impact point, and he would wake up with a horrible headache, but he would live.
The man with the broken teeth spat out a few shards, and they clattered to the ground, clinking softly as they landed. They were for the most part coated in blood, and gave off a slight aroma of iron. The man sputtered for a few moments, trying to find right way to speak.
"Whau-why dith youd" The man managed to spit out a few more hacked words before Matthew lifted him off the ground by his neck. His hand had a good firm grasp around his neck, strong yet not tight enough to choke him.
"I'm going to make this real easy," Matthew growled at the man as he sputtered and kicked to get out of his grip, "tell me where the girl is and you get to keep the rest of your teeth." Matthew had the man close to his face. He wore the same black mask as always, and it covered everything except his mouth and jaw. However the men he fought always got more unnerved whenever they got up close and couldn't see his eyes. The one in his grip was far beyond unnerved; he was terrified. His heart thumped faster than rain hitting the ground, and he could smell his tears as they ran down his face, the subtle sterile aroma of salt gracing his cheeks.
He had tracked three men from a brothel that night. He noticed them from the rooftops because they were drunk and armed, and in King's Landing, men who were drunk and armed were often in the mood for a bit of rape. He followed them as they made their way down to flea bottom. The night had just begun, and it was quiet for the most part, so he could spare some time following a few drunks.
This was his second month as a vigilante, and he managed to work out a smooth schedule for his patrols.
He listened to them flitter from block to block, cursing and japing at one another, and he smelled the ale slowly get thicker on their breaths as they entered another tavern. When they stumbled out drunker than before, Matthew was about to leave them for the night. There were other potential problems, and he hadn't planned on spending the night following a couple of drunkards.
But then they saw the girl walking towards the docks.
She was a little thing with a weak skeletal structure, not as hardened as the bones of an older woman. She couldn't have been more than ten, but she caught the attention of the group's leader. Matthew heard his breath hitch, and then sniffed the scent of a man in heat. The girl had a pail of water in her hands, and was walking calmly through the streets. Her heartbeat was steady, and she didn't have the posture of someone who was repelled by the smell.
She's a native, likely born here. Matthew thought, she's done this walk a hundred times beforehand without worry.
The leader started following her, and the other two men in turn followed him. The girl had her back turned to the group, and didn't notice them. Matthew resolved to follow, and danced silently from rooftop to rooftop, years of training conditioning his body to land softly upon the surface. The girl was moving into one of the less populated districts, and that is when the group honed in on their target.
The leader ran and grabbed hold of the girl, putting his hand over her mouth before she could scream. She dropped the pail and water spilled onto the filthy ground, the scent of shit and dirt diluted by the liquid. The leader let out a small giggle and the other two laughed heartily as they moved into one of the many abandoned buildings in the district, the girl struggling vainly to get out of the man's grasp.
Her heartrate was the loudest thing in Matthew's ears as he darted inside the building, and found two men drunkenly trying to undo their belts, which brought him back to where he was now.
The man with the broken teeth lifted an arm and pointed down a hallway. Matthew cocked his head, and focused on the little girl's breathing. He located her after a split second, and the breaths she took were short and terrified. He heard the leader's breath to, a heavy and musty breath. They were in the second room down the hall.
"Thank you." Matthew said to the man before punching out his top teeth.
He walked down the hall towards the room, keeping his pace silent as to not alert the leader to his presence. He knew he hadn't heard what happened to his colleagues because his heartbeat was steady. Matthew softly opened the door and got a full picture of the leader.
It was hard for him to get a full picture of a persons' face. The stench of flea bottom often hazed his more focused senses outside, and the clatter of five hundred thousand people could overwhelm his ears. But in a quiet room like this one he could easily see what this man was.
He was not someone's typical description of a raper. He had a handsome face, and his clothing was finer than what a normal street urchin would wear. The thing that truly revealed him was his perfume. It was a subtle thing, difficult to focus in on while outside, but in here it was clear as day. It smelled of the arbor.
He's highborn.
The highborn had a shocked expression on his face, which quickly turned to rage. "Get out here you fool, do you know who I am?!" He raised his hand in indignant rage. "I'm Ser Leonard Sw-" Before Leonard could finish his name Matthew grabbed his raised hand and proceeded to shatter every single bone in it. To normal ears it would have sounded like a single crack, but to Matthew's ears there was a crescendo of dull shatters and pops which was only matched by Leonard's screaming.
With his free hand Matthew grabbed the back of Leonard's head and proceeded to slam it face first into his knee. He then grabbed hold of him by the shoulders and threw him against the wall. Leonard lied broken and weeping, his brain flooded by pain stimulus. He wouldn't be a threat for a while, so Matthew turned his attention to the girl.
The girl was shaking violently, and her heart rate had only increased once Matthew dispatched Leonard. She still had her clothes on, so he stopped "Ser" Leonard before anything could happen. He knelt down to the girl's level, and took off his mask. He was told he was rather comely, and his eyes, though still like every blind mans', were a rich green that went well with the red of his hair. He gently put his hand on the girl's shoulder.
"Are you a knight?" She asked fearfully. "That man said he was a knight, but he didn't act very knightly." She clutched herself tightly.
"I'm no knight sweetling, but that doesn't mean I won't help you."
He carried her down to the docks were she said her father lived, and sure enough a portly man in his third decade raced out to embrace the girl. He muttered all sorts of thanks and blessings, and Matthew nodded and gave good fortune to the family before departing for the night.
When night turned to day and Matthew the vigilante turned into Matthew the blind man, he took a walk down Flea Bottom to the district crier. He heard news of how Lord Eddard Stark was named hand of the king and how there would be a tourney in his honor. He managed to filter out quite a few interesting mutterings from the crowd as well; there were whispers that a certain Ser Leonard Swann was found grievously wounded in an abandoned building, and that the Devil-knight had been a part of it.
"And today King's Landing will welcome a foreign king from a far off land…" Matthew shut out the crier's voice as he headed down to the docks. The docks were clear in preparation for the arrival of several ships. Matthew's senses could not hear nor smell these ships, so he asked a dockworker the details.
"Aye, the panther king of Wakanda will be arriving today. They say he rules over the only country in Sothoryos, and that it's a land greater than any in the world," Said the dockworker amiably. He was happy yet reserved. After all, someone had reached out and saved his daughter last night. He told the tale of how his daughter came to him in the arms of a strange man wearing a black mask. Matthew nodded as the dockworker told his tale, and thanked him for the story.
After all, it's important for a man as blind as Matthew to know every detail.
AN: Little bit more exciting than a person shoveling poop I hope. Don't expect updates like this all time, I just got thinking and hammered this out in Word in a few hours. So let me get some housecleaning done: This will likely be a pretty massive story, so the first few chapters will be laying the groundwork for what is to come. Of course I'm going to explain the last chapter and Matthew's backstory, but smart Marvel fans should be able to spot the references to figure out which character is which. It's fairly obvious who Matthew is. It was actually a lot of fun writing a character like Matthew, because you can't write that he "sees" things; his abilities challenge you to be detailed in different ways.
Now there is a time jump between the prologue and this chapter, but clever book readers should know how long the jump has been. As for Cap Murica, we'll get to him in time, along with what "The Gift" actually is and what it means for Westeros and its noble houses. There are hints of how some highborns might react to it in this chapter.
I've rambled on long enough, so please review away and feel free to ask any questions. I will to the best of my ability answer them in the next chapter's author's note.
