Loredas, 22nd of Sun's Dusk
Red Keep, King's Landing
The Royal Council was silent as Nakos read aloud the reports he had received from Braavos. Of course, no one except Brynjolf and Urag truly knew who the Thalmor were, but once he explained who they were to the Westerosi, they understood the situation they were in.
"What kind of trouble can they cause, exactly?" Tyrion asked.
"The worst kinds, and more of it than you can possibly imagine." Nakos rubbed his chin. "These Thalmor are fanatical, but competent and strong. They literally brought the Empire to the brink of annihilation, and they did it not just through strength of arms, but through political subterfuge, sabotage, assassination, and propaganda."
"Sounds like the Game," Tyrion said dryly.
"Indeed," Nakos said. "When the Dominion goes to war, they do it in multiple ways, and they are very good at it. They can take decades to plan, and move their pieces into place. They have the patience for long, drawn out wars. They planned for over a century to defeat the Empire, and they succeeded, forcing the then Emperor into the most unfavourable of choices."
"Do you think this is one of their moves?" Theon asked.
"I would bet my last septim on it. They stayed out of the war against Dagon intentionally, but I wouldn't have put it past them to have planted moles and spies within our ranks to get all the intelligence they needed on this side of the world. Nothing they do is without cautious planning and calculation."
"Do you want to look within our ranks for the moles?" Varys asked softly.
Nakos shook his head. "You won't find them. They are very good at remaining hidden within the ranks of people they can blend in with. It was only by pure chance that I managed to uncover the few that I did. Gissur was a Nord mole working in the Thieves Guild, and I only knew he was a mole because he was in the Thalmor Embassy when I raided it."
"Then what do you propose we do?" Brynjolf asked.
Tyrion cleared his throat. "I would suggest we continue as normal. Act as if we don't know about their presence. But we need to keep our eyes open. If the Thalmor are responsible for what happened in Braavos, and for the death of the Sealord, then they may be making their moves. I also have a strange suspicion that the Thalmor may be responsible for a few other things that have come up recently. I don't like coincidences, especially when the Dominion is involved if half of what Nakos said is to be believed, and I don't see why it wouldn't be." Tyrion let the sentence hang in the air for a moment.
"I disagree," Dercin, the Grand Maester said. "I think the Thalmor deserve to burn. You have the dragons. Why not just end them once and for all?"
Nakos looked at Dercin like he had grown a second head. "Are you acting like a fool? Or are you really an idiot? The Thalmor are among innocent civilians, Dercin. If I unleash the dragons in an attempt to attack the Thalmor within the city walls, I am going to kill untold numbers of civilians, and cause incredible destruction to the city. Whether it be in Braavos, or here in King's Landing, I am not going to burn, freeze, or knock to the ground the lives and livelihoods of innocent people to kill one enemy."
"Sometimes you must be willing to make such sacrifice… Your Grace." Dercin added the last words as a prick to Nakos, but Nakos ignored it.
"You ask for a warhammer solution to a problem that requires a scalpel." Nakos leaned forward. "Precision, not brute force is needed here. I will not sacrifice people needlessly when we have other means to do the job, Dercin. Don't ever suggest the needless sacrifice of innocent beings so carelessly. I'm not a tyrant or a monster, and you were not there when I took a million fighters north of the wall. Don't think I would not do what is needed if the situation makes it necessary."
Nakos took on a saddened look, as the memory of a third of his forces dying due to the overwhelming cold in the Lands of Always Winter, and another to the forces of Dagon. But those men and women were given a choice, knowing what was at risk and what was at stake. Dercin was proposing to eradicate an entire population of innocent people just because they were in proximity to a dangerous foe among them, and they didn't even know it. They would all die, and not even know the reason.
"I agree with Tyrion," Nakos said finally. "We wait until we can find out more information. And we keep our eyes open. That is it." The council members nodded and got up to leave, but a glance at Varys and Brynjolf told them to stay. When they were alone, he spoke again. "Tell our spies in Braavos to keep looking. Find out what the Thalmor are doing in Braavos, and sabotage what they can. We need to slow them down, give us time to find out their plans."
The Masters of Whisperers bowed. "We'll send the word along, Your Grace."
They left Nakos with several members of the Royal Guard and Tyrion. After a moment of silence, he turned to Mjoll. "I hope I'm doing the right thing."
Mjoll shrugged hesitantly. "I can't give advice, Your Grace. If you need that, Tyrion would be-"
"I'm not asking for advice as a king," Nakos said with a small smile. "I'm asking as a friend. Walk with me." He stood and made his way out of the council room, the Royal Guard following. Mjoll walked alongside him. "I know you don't approve of me working with spies, thieves, and assassins. I'm sure you've had your fair share of trouble of them in Riften. But this is the Thalmor we're speaking of. There is a part of me that wants nothing more than to destroy them totally, but I know I cannot risk the lives of innocents. I also know that waiting and doing nothing will only give them more time to prepare whatever schemes they have. Even having the spies look out after them and informing me of their movements will not be enough." A few nobles bowed as he walked past.
"And besides the Thalmor in Braavos," Nakos continued. "I also have the Faith Militant to contend with. Two enemies at once. I'm not sure which is the biggest threat. Should I focus on the Thalmor or the High Sparrow?"
"The Thalmor are an enemy we know, but… if you want the truth, Nakos, I wouldn't be surprised if this Faith Militant had been in contact with them for the very reasons you stated earlier." Mjoll hesitantly replied, knowing she probably sounded paranoid, but with the Thalmor, anything was possible.
Nakos thought for a moment. "Perhaps. I would not put it past them. But it's also possible that the High Sparrow has reasons of his own to do what he did… with some help from Cersei Lannister."
Mjoll groaned inwardly. "I thought she would have learned by now."
Nakos chuckled dryly. "I did, too. But I am not going to accuse her until I know the facts. Maybe the High Sparrow is acting on his own volition. If that's the case, regardless if she contacted him for her own reasons, she might bite off more than she can handle on her own." She had made that mistake with Mephala, it wouldn't surprise him if it happened again.
Middas, 26th of Sun's Dusk
Meereen
"You know, you never did tell me why you decided to swoop into Meereen, Lady Volkihar," Daario Naharis said as he watched the vampire look over the night sky in the Great Pyramid of Meereen.
Serana smirked, doing her best to hide her fangs. "Maybe I like the scenery?"
The mercenary only chuckled. "Nakos sent you here, didn't he? It's about the only reason someone like yourself would risk such...exposure." She looked over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow, more out of surprise than alarm that he had seen through her. The man only smirked and crossed his arms. "You don't get as far as I did in the Fighting Pits by being stupid, or blind."
"Makes sense. How long have you known?"
Daario shrugged. "Ever since you came here. I had time to do research on Tamriel. I rarely see you during the day. You always come out at night, and when you're out here, I don't see you eat or drink. That and I've heard rumors certain prisoners slated for execution tend to look a little pale and glassy eyed, with reports of a hooded woman slipping away. This to me says a lot."
Serana gave a single chuckle and raised her eyebrow again. "Guess I need to brush up on my sneaking around. That does raise a question, though. You're not worried I might bite?"
"Not at all. The fact Nakos trusts you is enough for me. Besides, you never know. I may like being bit."
Serana only shook her head. "That's not the kind I'm talking about."
"I know." Daario replied, his grin only widening to encompass most of his face. "I have seen demons rise from the depths of Oblivion, summoned by mages of your country, and I have seen dragons return. A woman who needs the blood of the living to sustain herself is rather small compared to what I have seen. With that in mind, even before my world turned upside down, I was never one to turn down a chance to make love to a willing woman, even if she is… somewhat dead. As I told my former compatriots however, before I removed their heads, they could keep their whores and their slaves. You cannot make love to property."
"Does that line work on all the women you meet?" Serana asked, her yellow eyes shining in more than their usual fashion as she looked at Daario with more than passing interest now. He was...intriguing, for a mortal.
"Only on ones that could likely kick my arse from here to Astapor."
She couldn't help it and laughed at that smug response. "Trust me, I could go a lot further than Astapor."
"I imagine you could." To her surprise, Serana hadn't seen Daario get closer to her. She only realized it after he had gently pulled her hood down and took a step back, admiring what laid before him. He understood she was dangerous, probably the most dangerous person in the entire city, next to some of Nakos' old friends, some of which had stayed in the slave cities to keep the peace he and Dany had created, but that apparently didn't stop him from trying to charm her. And much to her surprise, it was working.
That didn't stop her from looking away, though, feeling a mixture of things churning in her unbeating heart. "You don't know what you're asking for with me, Daario. You'd be better off…. with someone else."
"I like to live dangerously."
"Daario…"
"Serana."
Serana pulled his hands away before he could touch her face. "I can't. I still have the urges, don't get me wrong. Molag Bal couldn't take that away, but…"
"But from what I understand of what I read, you likely feel...less than a woman after what you had to endure." While his research hadn't gone into details regarding the ceremony itself that had made Serana what she was, Daario had gotten the gist of it well enough. Molag Bal's very definition among the Tamriel people pretty much spelled it out loud and clear.
Serana raised an eyebrow. "You were thorough in your research."
"I had a lot of time on my hands." Daario stared at her for a moment before walking back to his original position. "I understand, Lady Volkihar."
"No, you don't…. you really don't, but thank you for trying." She looked up then and a ghost of a smile pulled at her lips. "But I would be willing to try. I just… need time." That got the desired response as Daario smiled back and nodded his head in gratitude.
"Fair enough, but I should warn you, I'm not an extremely patient man. Gods only know how you could go centuries without having someone curl your toes."
Another brief burst of laughter escaped her at that. "Smartass," was the vampire's succinct but playful retort. Her laughter quickly died in her throat when she saw a small orange glow down below. She recognized it immediately, "Fire."
Daario followed her gaze and noticed the fire himself. Before he knew what was going on, Serana had disappeared in a swarm of bats, heading right for the conflagration in the distance. "Guess I'll alert the guards, then." He mused aloud, unfazed by her going on ahead as he ran down to the ground floor of the Great Pyramid, shouting the whole way for the Unsullied to get their asses in gear. Time was of the essence, something both of them understood in their respective ways.
By the time he reached the bottom of the steps, the alarm bells were already ringing and the city guards, consisting of Unsullied, Second Sons, and Tamrielics, were rushing out towards the fire, weapons in hand. It only took Daario a moment to see the likely culprits of the fire. By their clothes, they appeared to be former slave masters, and it seemed they had finally grown a spine and a pair of balls. They all wore golden harpy masks, and given the fact every Pyramid and alleyway had had at least one harpy somewhere in the slave cities before every harpy was tore down, declaring this place was owned by them, it wasn't hard to make the connection.
When they saw the guards, they immediately rushed at them, daggers in hand. Daario answered the challenge as his arakh appeared in his own and immediately cut down the first Harpy that made the mistake of rushing him. He hardly paused a moment as he continued his attack since there were still plenty more where the first masked man had came from.
Serana made quick work of the Harpies that rushed her, sending Ice Spikes into each of them in quick succession. Even with her supernatural reflexes though, the vampire was too slow when another Harpy got in behind her, dagger poised to drive through her back and out her chest. Before he got the chance though, he received a sword thrust through his neck, showering the undead princess in blood.
On the other end of the sword was Barristan Selmy. "Watch your back, my lady." The former Kingsguard Commander said, a just visible smile on his gray bearded face as he turned and easily disarmed a second before crushing the Harpy's throat with a precise elbow jab.
More city guards joined the fray, and they easily outnumbered the Harpies in the streets. Despite the odds, they fought to the last man, and the few they tried to take alive chose instead to throw themselves on the guards' blades, ensuring none of their number would talk. Even so, the Harpies had managed to kill or seriously injure their fair share of the guards before they were wiped out.
Barristan knelt over a dead Harpy and picked up the dagger. It wasn't a normal steel dagger, either. It was tinted yellow and curved at such an angle that it could slip between armor plates with startling ease. Seeing the enraged look in the pale woman's eyes, he stood up and held up the dagger. "I take it you know the metal."
"Elven," Serana hissed, "which means our Harpy friends have found themselves allies."
"Which begs the question," Daario began as he kicked a dead Harpy off of one of the Unsullied, who thanked him as he stood on shaky legs, clutching at a wound in his right side, "Why? And who are these mysterious friends of theirs?"
"I could take a few educated guesses, but I think I know who has decided to give these sodding ice brains a leg up on Meereen's guard force. The why is a bit more complicated." Serana sighed and did her best to ignore the scent of blood all around her. As well controlled as her urges were, they were always there, reminding her of what she was. "Let's get the wounded out of here, then I'll tell you what I can about what we might be up against. If I'm right, then Nakos and Dany need to know as soon as possible."
Middas, 26th of Sun's Dusk
King's Landing
Daenerys Targaryen sat in the royal chambers, trying to read, but she was too distracted. She and Nakos were doing their best to try to find a way to get Loras out of his imprisonment, but they wanted to find a way to do so without offending the Faith, and all the people of Westeros in the process. While Dany wished for a small show of force, Nakos said that patience was key. "We will wait until the inquest before we decide what to do," he had said.
She glanced over to Rhaelor, who had fallen asleep on the bed, his head in a book. She chuckled softly to herself. Rhaelor and his sister were as opposite as they could get. Of course, everyone had expected Rhaelor to be the fighter of the two children, since he was the boy. People were, of course, surprised that Nesaerys was the one who preferred to fight and Rhaelor preferred to read and study. Tyrion had taken a liking to the young boy as he saw a lot of himself in Rhaelor. They would spend hours together in the castle's library. Nakos didn't mind. Tyrion was the only Lannister that he fully trusted. "Maybe Rhaelor could learn a thing or two from Tyrion," Nakos had said.
A knock on the door interrupted Dany's thoughts and Lydia walked in. "Your Grace, Olenna Tyrell wishes to speak with you."
Dany stood to her feet and smoothed out her clothes. "Send her in, Lydia."
Lydia went back out and escorted Olenna in. "Your Grace," the Queen of Thorns bowed and greeted the Targaryen.
"Lady Olenna, this is a welcome surprise."
"I have travelled a long way. I left Highgarden as soon as I heard what had happened to my grandson."
"I can assure you Nakos and I are working to get Ser Loras back."
Olenna sat in the chair in front of the desk and scoffed. "It sure does not seem like it. All I see is you sitting here reading."
Dany sighed. "Nakos is careful. He wants to weigh his options and attend the inquest before doing anything. And I happen to agree with his decision. Though I initially wanted him to go into the prison with a show of force and break Loras out, what would that look like to the people of Westeros? Having a foreign king do such a thing inside the Great Sept. They may see that as a blight on their faith."
"So what exactly is His Grace doing?"
"Waiting." Dany smiled a small smile. "Believe me, Lady Olenna, everything Nakos does is for a reason. He is not standing idly by. Acting rashly will only make things worse. Nakos is a tactician. Strategy is not limited to the battlefield, as you know. It also extends to politics. As much as Nakos hates to play the Game, there are a few still left in King's Landing who play it. So Nakos has no choice but to play along."
Olenna was silent for a moment before relenting with a smile. "Very well. At least there is some consolation knowing you and Nakos are not behind this absurd incarceration of my grandson."
"I was as shocked as anyone when The Faith arrested Ser Loras. I have no love for these fanatics, and neither does Nakos. But we do plan to attend the inquest. From what I understand, it's a small hearing to determine whether the charges against Loras have merit, which I'm sure they don't. Soon, Loras will be freed."
Realizing that the topic would progress no further, the Queen of Thorns looked away from Dany, trying to think of another avenue. She found it when she spotted their youngest son. Olenna glanced over at the sleeping Rhaelor. For a moment, she said nothing. "He looks like his father," she said finally.
Dany followed Olenna's gaze. "He does." She replied softly, wondering where Olenna was going with this.
She didn't have to wonder for long. "And I'm sure you and His Grace will do anything to protect him."
"We are."
Olenna turned back to Dany. "I will do the same thing for Loras."
Dany politely put a hand up to stop the Queen of Thorns from speaking further. "There is no need for veiled threats, Lady Olenna. We are on the same side."
Olenna only huffed. "What veil? I am speaking the truth. If anything were to happen to him-"
"Nothing is going to happen to your grandson," Dany said firmly.
Olenna took a long, hard look at the woman before her. When she did speak, the Queen of Thorns made it a point to drop her usual cynical undertones, for the most part, revealing the tired old woman she truly was. "I want to believe that, Your Grace, but I've been around too long to take mere words as gospel. But when you say it, well, I'm assured you at least believe it. Whether it actually happens or not though, only the gods can say."
Sundas, 30th of Sun's Dusk
The Kingsroad
Nesaerys had been on the road for fifteen days and according to Lord Robb Stark, they were over halfway to Winterfell. While the trip was pleasant, she could have gone without seeing another empty field. It was boring, even if the company she was with wasn't so dull. On the other hand, she'd been raised in King's Landing, there was always something exciting happening in the capital. From her father having many verbal spats with the Grand Maester, Dercin, to spending time with Tyrion Lannister and her bookworm of a brother Rhaelor, to training with the twins Vilkas and Farkas. She rarely had time to sit and twiddle her thumbs, and she preferred it that way. She often wondered what it would have been like had she been in King's Landing eleven years ago when her father first arrived, but from the tales her father had told her, it would have been no place for her. She knew she wasn't exactly the most patient person, but she found it infuriating to sit still without something to do to keep herself occupied. Doing nothing was not in her personality.
"Enjoy the peace while it lasts, Princess," Vilkas quipped as he and his brother rode beside her on horses of their own. "Too often I have seen it shattered."
"But I can't just sit around like some people."
"Haha," Vilkas knew who she meant. "I know the feeling, I do. Farkas and I were never content to sit idly by either when there was something to be done, but we learned long ago to enjoy the solitude and quiet as well. Too often it ends for my liking, although my brother would say otherwise."
"Damn right I would." Farkas chuckled, although it was somewhat forced Nesy noted. "Give me a good fight any day."
"Now why can't my brother be like you two?" Nesy chuckled. "All he wants to do is sit and read with the dwarf. I like Tyrion, but he can get so boring sometimes."
"Not everyone can swing a sword, little Nesy, so they contribute in other ways." Farkas replied, surprising both her and Vilkas more than a little. "I might not have my brother's smarts, but even I understand the importance of keeping a sharp mind to go with my blade. Why do you think we work so well together?"
Nesy shrugged. "Because you're big, bad Companions?"
"Ha! Only half-true, pint size." Farkas chuckled when Nesy gave him a glare that would have seared the flesh from his bones, but he only grinned back in response. "Companions fight better than most milk drinkers, I'll give you that, but the best of us have always been part scholar on top of our impressive warrior skills."
"What he means is that where he has his blade, I have my mind. Together we cover our weaknesses, and share our strengths in common cause." Vilkas explained, clarifying his brother's less than clear comment.
"That sounds like something Tyrion would say." Despite the disdain in her voice, Nesy couldn't deny the fact they had a point.
"So," Vilkas decided to change the topic. "Have you talked to little Lord Eddard since we left King's Landing?" At Nesy's glare, he only shrugged. "Don't think I haven't noticed you looking at him."
"It's like watching two lovesick wolf cubs." Farkas chuckled, earning him another murderous glare from the young princess between them. "Yes, I noticed too, pint size. I think everyone in this caravan's noticed."
"You know I could have you turned into a throw rug, right?" Nesy grumbled, to which Vilkas had to bite his tongue and cough into his hand in an effort to contain his laughter at the image she had conjured for him.
"I'd love to see you try." Farkas laughed and ruffled Nesy's hair, clearly showing her he wasn't intimidated by her in the slightest. "Hold onto that warrior spirit, Nesy. It'll get ya a lot farther than you might think." The caravan in front of them began to slow down.
"Why are we stopping?" Nesaerys asked.
"We're stopping to make camp," Vilkas answered. "The sun is going down."
"I can see that."
"Patience, princess. We'll be on the road again come first light, I imagine."
"I hate waiting."
"We know." The twins said at the same time, earning them a muttered string of half-hearted curses from Nesaerys.
By the time they made camp, the sun was halfway down the horizon. Nesaerys sat in front of her tent, sitting by a fire. Vilkas and Farkas stood guard behind her, standing near the tent. Nesy had her ebony sword in her lap, turning it around impatiently.
"Lady Nesaerys," a familiar voice made her jump out of her seat, and dropped her sword into the grass at her feet.
"Lord Eddard," Nesy jumped to her feet and almost fell down again. She heard the twins stifle a chuckle and glared at them. That didn't stop them from chuckling, though. "Uh, what are you doing here?"
"We've never had the chance to talk since we left King's Landing." He walked forward and with a gesture of his hand, asked if he could sit down next to her. She nodded, sheathed her dropped blade as quickly as she could, and they sat down together. "How have you enjoyed the journey thus far?"
"It's been….uh-"
"Boring?" Vilkas supplied for her.
"Dull." Farkas chimed in, and chuckled when Nesy picked up a rock and chugged it at his head. He merely leaned back, letting it sail past, and smirked all the wider.
"You two aren't helping you know." She growled, her teeth practically grinding together at that point.
Eddard only smiled and shook his head. "I have to agree with them. It's… too quiet out here."
"What do you suggest?" She asked, her cheeks flushed in embarrassment at trying to brain Farkas right in front of young Lord Eddard, even if the oversized oaf had had it coming.
Eddard glanced at her sword. "I see you brought your sword with you."
Nesy looked down at the ebony sword before looking up into Eddard's face. "What about it?"
"Fancy a spar?" Eddard asked with a smirk as he handed her a practice sword from behind his back.
Nesaerys smirked with playful mischief etched onto her face. "You think you can stand up to me? I've trained with the best."
"So you say, my lady." Eddard replied and grinned playfully in return. "But I thought actions speak louder than words?"
Nesaerys stood to her feet at the challenge. "Oh, you are so getting it." Drawing her practice sword in one hand, she pushed Eddard off the bench with the other before running out to a small clearing nearby so they had room. Eddard gave chase, a broad smile all but encompassing his face.
"Ten septims says Eddard gets a black eye." Farkas stated once they were out of earshot.
"Ten septims says that Nesy gets knocked on her arse." Vilkas replied, grinning as he and his brother remembered their own childhoods. It had more or less went along the same lines, with both of them constantly fighting either each other or the Companions that had all but raised them, provided Vilkas hadn't had his nose in a book. Those had been good days.
Meanwhile, Nesaerys and Eddard traded swings and counter-swings. Though they were laughing all the while, it was obvious that each of them still wanted to win and beat the other. Nesy was on the offensive from the start, hammering away at Eddard's more defensive style. But he wasn't without his skill as he remained calm and composed, letting her lead their dance, as it were. Suddenly, when Nesy gave a final swing, he lunged forward and hit her legs from under her, sending her to the ground. Vilkas chuckled as Farkas hesitantly and slowly handed him the coins.
Eddard held out a hand to help Nesaerys up. "You fought well."
"But I lost," she huffed as she dusted herself off. "I hate losing."
"A loss doesn't mean defeat in every instance." Eddard replied softly as he looked towards the main camp, where his father was with his men, no doubt. He often said it was wise to get to know the names and faces of those that protect you and yours. His own father had taught him that. "It only becomes defeat if you don't pick yourself back up. My father taught me that."
"Wise words," Nesaerys replied.
"What about you?" Eddard asked, genuinely curious.
"What do you mean?" Nesy asked, confused as to what Eddard was trying to ask her.
"Your father must have given you advice about combat, and I'm always looking to improve." He replied and waited patiently for whatever Nesy might say.
Nesaerys thought for a moment. There was a lot of advice her father had given her over the years, and she had a hard time remembering everything her father had told her. But one thing stood out, at least in that moment. "Be patient. Watch your opponent. Pick up on their tendencies and use them as best you can in your favor."
"Looks like you still have some work to do then," Farkas quipped, overhearing them.
Ignoring the werewolf, Nesy rubbed the back of her neck and blushed. "Y-yeah, he might be right. I still have a lot to learn."
"But at least you're smart enough to admit it." Eddard replied and smiled warmly at the princess. "I've seen a few men in my father's guards that seem slow to pick up on that lesson. Greatjon Umber usually beats that out of them though." Nesy giggled at that, and Eddard couldn't help but chuckle as well. For a moment they stared into each other's eyes before Vilkas coughed loudly.
"You two lovebirds should get some rest," Vilkas said. "We're leaving at first light."
Turdas, 4th of Evening Star
King's Landing
The High Septon's room was not very large, but to Nakos, that seemed to be the reason the High Sparrow chose it, in order to make the prisoners he questioned feel closed in. Though the recent news from Meereen almost distracted him, he kept his mind on the present. The Tyrells needed his help now.
He, Dany, Cersei, Olenna, and Margaery were seated near the door while Loras sat across from them in a seat of his own. There was a scribe nearby, writing on a scroll while the High Sparrow circled around the seat, barefoot as usual. Despite his unassuming, comely appearance, here, there was an unmistakable air of something that made him stand out. Here, he was in command, and the High Sparrow knew it. "You are aware of the rumors concerning you and Renly?"
Loras only shrugged. "I don't pay attention to rumors."
"You were said to be despondent when he died. Witnesses said that you refused to leave his bedside, even as Stannis' army closed in."
Loras looked up, party in disgust, mostly in confusion. "He was my friend. He was my king."
The High Sparrow folded his arms. "Wasn't Joffrey your king? He was anointed by the seven, not Renly."
Loras made himself despondent. "I was wrong to support Renly's claim. I know that. But I was forgiven by Joffrey. I fought for him at the Battle of the Blackwater."
Nakos was tempted to say something unsavory about Joffrey, but thought better of it. It would only make the situation worse. But he was amused to see that Dany was thinking the same thing from the hard look on her beautiful face.
The High Sparrow huffed. "But you were wearing Renly's armor."
"Why does it matter what I wore?"
The High Sparrow did not answer the question, but asked one of his own. "Do you deny all of the charges against you? Fornication, buggery, blasphemy."
"Of course I deny them."
"You never lay with Renly Baratheon."
"Never." It was a lie, of course, but given the situation, no one that knew the truth blamed him for it. This was a witch hunt, nothing more.
"Nor any other man?" The High Sparrow asked.
Loras shook his head. "Never," he lied again.
The High Sparrow was silent for a moment before he nodded. "That will be all, Ser Loras."
Loras stood and walked back to his seat, next to Olenna.
"Well, I think that's quite enough of that." Olenna said, and started to stand to her feet.
"I agree," Nakos said. "You've heard it from the man himself, High Sparrow. He denies it."
"But we've only just begun, Your Grace." The High Sparrow said, and let the faintest of smiles flick across his face before he turned towards Margaery next. "The Faith calls Lady Margaery Tyrell forward."
Margaery's eyes went up in surprise. "You call me forward?"
"Yes. We have some questions for you."
She exchanged glances with her brother, grandmother, Dany, and Nakos before standing and walking to the seat her brother was sitting in. Despite her surprise at being asked to the 'bench', as it were, she maintained her composure and remained perfectly calm. She had been through worse than this.
The High Sparrow stood in front of the Tyrell woman. "How do you respond to these charges against your brother?"
"They are lies," she said quickly.
"All of them?"
"All of them."
The High Sparrow walked towards the scribe. "Lady Margaery, in the presence of the gods, do you swear that your brother is innocent of these charges against him, to the best of your knowledge?
"Yes, I swear it." Margaery replied firmly, calmly, even though she knew better. She had walked in on Loras at least once in the past, and the rumors surrounding her and Renly were also true. She doubted the Sparrow could prove anything, however.
Again, the High Sparrow was silent for a moment. "Thank you, my lady."
As Margaery walked back to her seat, Nakos stood. "Are we done, High Sparrow?
"I'm afraid not your Grace. The Faith calls Nakos Nalldiir forward."
"I might be the king, but I am also a man." It was the closest to acceptance of this farce he'd ever come.
The High Sparrow nodded. "You are. And according to Law of the Seven, neither kings nor queens are exempt from testimony at a holy inquest."
Nakos glanced at Dany, then to Cersei, before standing and slowly walking to the seat. He had little to hide, so he saw no point in resisting the High Sparrow's questioning.
"Your Grace. How do you respond to these charges?" The High Sparrow asked, calmly as ever.
"They are lies," Nakos lied, convincingly for anyone else, but a little voice in the back of his head said it wouldn't be so easy to talk his way out of this one. "I don't think I can say anything else you haven't heard already."
"Did you know that Loras had a reputation of fornication?"
"I did not. But if it his choice, I would see no reason to stop him unless it impeded in his duties. Which, so far, it hasn't."
"Obviously, you are ignorant of our laws." the High Sparrow glanced at the Tyrells. "Didn't the Tyrells tell you of Loras' reputation?"
"I seem to recall them asking me for him to serve in the Royal Guard, but that was all. But I also seem to remember us having this conversation before, High Sparrow. The laws of men are not the laws of the gods." Nakos reminded him, making it clear his patience was running thin with this whole affair.
The High Sparrow stared hard at Nakos before offering a small smile. Nakos didn't like it. "Thank you, Your Grace."
Before Nakos could get to his seat, he heard a door open and turned to see a young man walking in and taking the seat. Nakos did not recognize him, but from the look on Loras' face, he did and it wasn't good. And so did Margaery, if her slightly widened eyes were any indication. Nakos saw the thin smile on Cersei's face, but pretended not to notice. Inwardly though, he was beating his head against a wall for not having seen this trap sooner. Cersei had played them, he was sure of it now.
The High Sparrow stood in front of the man. "Do you know this man?" Here, he pointed to Loras.
The man smirked. "Yes, very well. He is Ser Loras Tyrell, heir to Highgarden."
"How did you come to meet?"
"I squired for him. He took a liking to me. He summoned me to his chamber the first day we met."
The High Sparrow turned around and gave Nakos a knowing glance. "And what occurred in his chamber?"
The man smirked as well. "We engaged in… intimate relations."
"So, you laid with him?"
The man nodded. "That night and many others."
Loras leaned forward, his face twisted in anger. "Liar! He's a liar!" Nakos put a hand to calm him down, but said nothing at first.
The High Sparrow only gave Loras a sideways glance. "Is there anyone else who can support your claim?"
"Yes, yes, Lady Margaery. She walked in on us once not long ago. She didn't seem surprised."
Nakos glanced at Margaery, who could only stare dumbfounded. When she looked at Nakos, he could see in her eyes that the man was telling the truth, but there was nothing they could do. Still, he made a mental note to talk to her about this the first chance he had. It would have been nice to know about this man beforehand, at the very least, to avoid this exact situation.
"This testimony is an insult to a great house," Cersei exclaimed, but Nakos could easily tell her tone was fake. "Why should The Faith or anyone else here take the word of a squire over the heir to Highgarden?"
"Exactly," Dany spoke up. "What proof does he have?" The less than subtle glare she threw Cersei's way said she too was onto the Lannister.
The man stared right at Dany. "He has a birthmark, Your Grace. Quite high on his thigh, wine-colored, and roughly the shape of Dorne."
Loras jumped at Olyvar, but Nakos restrained him. "No, Ser Loras."
Margaery and Olenna get up to leave but several members of the Faith Militant blocked their way.
"Liar!" Loras yelled, trying to break away from Nakos' grip.
"Calm down, Ser Loras," Nakos said. It was then he noticed that several members of the Faith Militant had surrounded him. "If you plan to arrest me, I'd rethink that course of action."
"We're not going to arrest you, Your Grace. But The Faith is satisfied that there is enough evidence to bring a formal trial for Ser Loras... and Lady Margaery."
Margaery turned on her heels immediately upon hearing that. "What?"
"Bearing false witness before the gods is as grave a sin as any. Take her."
The Faith Militant grabbed her and carried her out of the room before Nakos could respond. This had been orchestrated from the start.
"And what about His Grace?" Cersei asked the High Sparrow.
"We have no proof that Nakos knew of Loras' reputation. The Faith has no reason to hold him… yet." Nakos could tell that both he and Cersei were disappointed. "You may leave, Your Grace."
"Not without the Tyrells." Nakos stated, making his tone clear that he would accept nothing less but acquiesce on the Sparrow's part.
"Then you will be waiting a long time. If you try to stop us..." The threat hung in the air, seemingly innocent in its delivery, but it was all too clear that the High Sparrow was willing to harm them if he had to prove his point.
Nakos wanted to save them. And he could have. He could Shout and slow time down, cut down all the Faith Militant with ethereal blades, and rescue the Tyrells. But attacking the Faith Militant would be a rash decision. An idea came to mind, though, and he had to suppress a smile. He knew exactly what to do. It would take time, though. But that was better than Shouting the High Sparrow and the Faith Militant down in cold blood as much as he wanted to. He watched as Loras and Margaery were dragged away, yelling for him. He gave them a wink, only seen by them... a wink they understood at once. They understood he was not going to leave them to rot in the cells. As Nakos and Dany turned to leave, he glared at Cersei. Cersei only smiled back.
"You will pay for this treachery, Lady Cersei," Nakos threatened in a whisper, and only got a shrug from Cersei.
"What are you doing, Your Grace?!" Olenna asked once they left the room. "Why didn't you do anything?!"
Nakos turned on his heels and glared at Olenna, his eyes ablaze with a righteous fury. Even Olenna took a step back at his glare. "Don't think for a moment my lack of action is from cowardice, Lady Tyrell," he said firmly. "I plan to end this very soon. You will have your grandchildren back."
Fredas, 5th of Evening Star
Braavos, Dark Brotherhood safehouse
"This could be a problem." Arya grumbled as she and her fellow thieves and assassins stood in their temporary safehouse. The House of Black and White was still available to them, but for this, she had wanted a place closer to their targets, so she had set up quarters for her team closer to the places they had needed to hit. And now, she and the others were reading over what they had been able to find on the Thalmor's ships a few days ago. "If it's even true, and for all we know it was planted so we would find it."
"That wouldn't surprise me with the Thalmor, princess." Jax replied. "They're clever bastards, always feeding their opponents false information if they can. Fueling conflicts between nations to gain an advantage. The list goes on."
"The ships were under heavy guard, Jax." Arya retorted.
Jax shrugged. "Your point? All those pretty notes could still be false and we'd never know, princess."
Morgen was far less close minded about what they had discovered as she picked up one of the more legible of the documents. "I think it's worth investigating.
Arya nodded. "Get a bird out to Varys and Brynjolf, they need to know what we're chasing regardless, even if it turns out to be a false lead."
"Or a trap." Jax muttered.
"And what's the easiest way to find out if it is a trap?" Cassius asked.
"Spring the trap." Arya answered as she rubbed at her chin and leaned back in her chair with a sigh. "And I thought dodging Lannister soldiers was a pain in my arse."
"Lannister soldiers are child's play compared to the Thalmor," Kirsten said with a sigh. "Personally, I envied your childhood, even if it was Oblivion for you at the time, Arya. I'd have preferred the Lannisters over the golden knife-ears when I was your age."
"When was that? During the Oblivion Crisis, Kirsten?" Jax asked, and chuckled when she shot him a rude gesture in response.
"Point being," Kirsten continued, "the Dominion, and their leaders, the Thalmor, make the Lannisters look like rank amateurs."
"And they're our enemy now." Arya replied, meaning the Thalmor in general. "And from what I can tell…" Her voice trailed off as she read the papers in front of her.
"What is it?" Jax asked, not liking the expression on her face. He liked it less when she started putting the papers on the desk, rearranging them like an intricate puzzle. When she finished, his face turned white as a sheet. "Shit." It was a map of Westeros, complete with written plans on possible locations to attack or Houses to align with. No doubt those alliances would be temporary since the Thalmor were supremacists to the last. Humans were especially inferior in their eyes, so any alliance made would then be broken once the Thalmor had gotten what they wanted.
Other documents included the fleet's cargo manifests, crew logs, and journals. The cargo logs didn't detail much in the way of what was inside, merely labelling more than half the hold's contents as 'Research Materials', but the crew report logs and the journals went into more details, especially one labeled as 'Research Journal 1-1A FC detachment.'
Arya flipped through the pages, and diagrams of things that didn't make any sense to her. The technical details were beyond anything she had ever seen. Metal monstrosities powered by steam and… soul gems, somehow. Constant references to beings called 'Dwemer', and other terms that simply didn't make sense. She then started to read through the progress pages, written by Ancano.
These past few weeks have been only marginally fruitful in terms of the project. Having lost the Eye to the Daedra was a tremendous setback to the project, and now we are forced to scour the planet in search for another compatible source of energy. But, since the death of Maeros, we have made some headway in acquiring the locations we need to excavate. With the distraction to throw off any unwanted visitors, we can proceed to the closest known location of arcane lore in Essos: the ruins of Old Valyria. The place is avoided by the local populations like it is cursed, and that makes it easy enough to get in and avoid prying eyes. The only drawback is the 'Stone Men' that call it home, but they can be easily disposed of. And their sickness? Easily cured by our superior magics should they touch one of us.
If we do not find what we seek in the ruins of the old Dragonlords domain, our next destination is Asshai, then the Shadowlands. The myths and legends surrounding these dark lands are rife all throughout Essos, and common knowledge is usually a strong indicator of something truly formidable. Perhaps we should consider paying the place a visit irrespective of what we find in Old Valyria? A question for my superiors. Once the actual research begins, I will finally have something worthwhile to do rather than play this trivial political game with these human halfwits. My talents are better served elsewhere, away from these uncivilized brutes that play at sentience.
"What an asshole." Jax said once Arya had finished reading the entry aloud to the rest of them.
"I can't help it if I have such a strong opinion of your pestilence of a species." They all jumped to their feet when Ancano stepped out of the shadows, weapons drawn, but a swift hand gesture had a bolt of lightning sweeping over the room, knocking them to the ground. "Down, mongrels." Taking the book off of the desk, where Arya had dropped it after being tossed from her chair, Ancano clicked his tongue in disapproval as he wiped at it with the sleeve to his robe. "To think I allowed you to profane my research notes with your filthy hands just so I could find your rat's nest. But it seems it paid off. Funny how overconfidence can blind even the cleverest of rats. You never thought to check for a locator spell, did you?" The assassins could not respond before Ancano called to his entourage. "Take them. It's time to see how deep this rat's nest goes. Make sure they are comfortable, and burn this hovel to the ground once we're gone. Leave no trace of their survival. I'm sure we can leave a convincing false trail with the number of homeless plaguing this filth ridden city."
Thalmor soldiers, dressed in their full elven and glass armor uniforms, stepped from the shadows and dragged the thieves and assassins out even as more dragged some dead bodies from the street into the safehouse, their throats freshly slit, and placed them around the hovel.
Once everything was in place, and the Thalmor left the safehouse, Ancano spun on his heel and fired a small fireball spell into the open door. When the spell struck the interior however, it exploded violently, blowing the open door off its hinges, and shattered glass windows everywhere within twenty feet of the structure. The flames caught, and began to spread quickly, swallowing the house whole.
Turning to Arya and her helpless team, Ancano smiled when he saw the wolf princess was still conscious. "You're tougher than you appear, little girl. I'll be sure to fix that before our time together is done."