Short chapter, because I wanted to separate the next one from this. Apologies. Also, unedited.
After that first disastrous attempt at communication which ended with dothraki spit on the floor, Rachel wasted no time in entering the Tower of the Hand to her father's study, or more appropriately, barging into her study, now that she's officially the Hand. The door bears the brunt of her ire as she slams it open with as much force as she could, now that there are no eyes upon her.
"Bloody barbarian...disgusting uneducated savage" she mutters, scattering the still disorganized piles of paper, looking for anything that might help explain their current situation. The documents are important, yes, being treaties, transactions, laws and such which piece the kingdoms together, but Rachel finds not a word or anything in connection to the Dothraki.
Her frustration finally comes to a breaking point, sending the papers and various objects, anything really, within close range to her, flying and crashing into each other.
"Why!" an inkwell sails towards the wall, scattering ink upon impact.
"Why did yo have to leave me with this!?" her arms clear out the contents of the table, not caring if the sleeves of her immaculate dress get nicked, scratched, and stained.
"Why do you have to keep on piling problem after problem, without leaving a bloody clue?!" The various glass devices which Rachel never really knew what they were for but was inventeed by her father, shatter on impact with the glass window.
"Why did you have to leave..." her voice finally sputters out, low and hoarse, as she braces both hands on the table, her chest heaving in a mixture of anger, disappointment, and just a hint of sadness that she refuses to acknowledge. Her eyesight lands on the familiar corner of the table on the stone floors.
Of course.
Flames of excitement begin to consume her as she gives the table a shove, kneeling and prying the stone compartment open. She lays the stone cover on the ground, then wastes no time digging everything out of the rectangular hole. Those flames are slowly extinguished as she reads everything, every piece of letter, and finds that they are exactly that, letters.
No, nonono, there must be something, she puts her hand back in, sweeping back and forth for anything she may have missed, but her fingers only encounter cold smooth stone. There is nothing else, just ordinary scrolls and letters without names penned on them. Her final hope of finding anything to shed light on matters is quickly replaced by the familiar tang of anger. She wants to do more damage, wants to break every stone in the study in search of a clue, wants to punch the walls herself, but logic prevails, bruised knuckles are beneath me, and she carefully returns them in their hiding place, shoving the cover not as gently back into place.
She stands up, feeling her insides burn. Rachel is furious, furious at the dothraki warrior with ther uncvilized ways and stubborness to not cooperate, furious that the translator between them had to be someone she always seemed to clash heads with, furious at her father, for leaving so many mysteries behind, responsibilities which she now has to figure out.
Searching in the dark, without even any idea on what I'm supposed to be looking for.
Rachel is furious, yes; frustrated, beyond belief; but beside those, also lies determination, because she is also Rachel Lannister, and Rachel Lannister always gets what she wants, even if she has to burn everything and everyone to get the answer in that darkness she's searching in.
Allison follows the mad trudging of red and gold out of the doors once she hears from Felix everything that happened during their first attempt at questioning their guest. She didn't believe it at first, until she saw the still bubbling saliva, making a face at such display of everything she was taught on how not to behave in public. Cosima and Beth have followed the dothraki out , hurrying to catch up to her and hopefully, to stop anymore outbursts and socially unacceptable behavior. Allison makes a wide berth from the tiny puddle of spit on the floor, taking extra care to not come at least fifteen paces near it.
She asks Felix where Rachel might have stomped off to, and goes after her. She is ascending the stairs when she hears the first violent crash, and she hurries her steps. She finds two knights at the door, secretly trying not to look at each other in confusion. "You can go stand guard at the foot of the stairs," she says a little breathlessly.
"Pardon me, my Lady, but you are in no position to order us."
Allison bristles at this, straightening her posture, bringing her chin up, and glaring in her signature condescending look that immediately cowers the two men.
"You will come with me, and you will stand guard at the foot of the stairs," she repeats, eyeing them in a manic way. From inside, another crash explodes, an angry voice accompanying the sound of glass breaking "Why do you have to keep on piling problem after problem, without leaving a bloody clue?!"
Allison smiles sweetly at them, but her eyes remain wide and a little crazed. "And trust me, you do not want to be where you are right now when she comes out of that door." It's what finally gets them moving, and with a bow and a "my Lady" they march down the stairs, trying their best to not look like they are hurrying and running for their lives.
More crashes and shouting come out muffled from the other side, and Allison stares at the door, as though trying to see what's happening behind it. With a sigh of sympathy, she turns on her heel and follows the knights down, deciding to wait half an hour before attempting to knock. She doesn't really like Rachel, not that much, respect, yes, but as a person, even she has to say that Rachel is absolutely ruthless. She is perhaps closer to Rachel than other people, but apart from that day Rachel's tears stained her dress, they are still far from being friends. She doesn't really approve of everything her almost friend does, but being crushed under the self imposed expectation due to a parent is something she can definitely understand.
While she waits or the appropriate amount of time to pass, she goes back to Felix, finding him still where she left him, conversing with a servant, but immediately dismisses them once he sees her.
"What was that about?" Allison asks, turning her head to look at the girl who was walking away, head bowed low.
"I asked her to help our guest in any way she asks for."
"You mean spy on her?"
"My dear, of course not" he cocks his brow. "Just to provide her with eveything and anything she might need." The insinuation is not lost even on Allison.
"You are putting her in danger. What if she gets hurt." she hisses her disapproval.
"I believe that's what the designated Kingsguard is for, not only to protect princess Cosima, but to subdue any unfortunate events that may occur."
"Who is it?"
"The newest addition, who else."
"What?! Beth?" a familiar sensation tugs at her chest, similar to what she felt when Beth stepped out of their locked stance and lowered her sword to approach an armed and dangerous dothraki who looked like she would not hesitate to slaughter anyone who made the first step.
Felix looks at her, trying to put a finger to her reaction. "She is very capable." he simply says.
"Oh, no, I mean, yes," Allison catches herself, sliding back to her usual demeanor. "I know she is, but she's...who taught her how to fight?" Felix knows she was about to say something else, but lets it go for the time being.
"I heard she learned mostly from watching other knights training, and she is a Slemy after all, but she owes a lot to Ser Paul."
Her brows scrunch in confusion."Ser Paul?"
"Yes. I don't know if you've ever noticed, but Beth is a left hand fighter."
Of course I noticed that. "And?" she waits for the explanation.
"So is Ser Paul." Oh, that I didn't notice.
"If I am not mistaken, they are one of the rare knights who opted to continue fighting left handed. Even though the previous Lord Commander stopped the forceful training of left handed boys to use their right hands, allowing them to use whichever hand they wished, almost all opted for the right since almost all knights are right handed, and it is difficult to copy their movements when everything from your stance is flipped to the other side."
"How long has he been teaching her?"
"About the same time that he became a squire." Her eyes betray her surprise. That long?
"He has been passing on to her eveything that he learned."
"Did she have to?" she asks in a small voice.
"You know Ser Paul is one of the best fighters, even amongst the Kingsguard. If I were her, I'd also go to the same person...and it doesn't hurt that how he looks naked is just as effective in making ladies swoon when he has his armor." He feels a jab at his shoulder, internally laughing at Allison's expression.
"And what did she give him in exchange?"
"Nothing. He willingly did it. But there are some whispers that say they are doing more than crossing swords, they were crossing tong-"
She coughs just in time "Yes, I get the idea."
"He genuinely cares for her, and what they had in the past is, well, I suppose it stays in the past."
He catches her with an unreadable expression. "And what is your fascination with it anyway?" he fishes.
"Oh, I...just wanted to make sure that the person guarding the princess is well trained enough for it." Even to her own ears, it all sounded like bullshit, but fortunately, she is spared from having to endure Felix's knowing look nor answer questions she doesn't want to think about when said princess appears on the doorway.
"Princess Cosima!" she greets, a little too cheerfully, that even Cosima slows down in trepidition upon seeing her overeager I-would-like-to-go-scrub-every-inch-of-this-castle face.
"Uh, hi, Allison," she gives an awkward wave, then immediately turns to the Master of Whisperers "Lord Felix."
"Princess." he bows.
"I would like to seek your...advice in a certain matter." she says, carefully choosing her words. Felix quickly picks up on this.
"I will do my best to help."
"Trust me, you're the exact kind of help I need. It involves a certain piece of parchment...about wine." she quickly lies upon seeing Allison's questioning look.
"Ah, well then, if it's about wine then I leave you two to discuss it." she says, remembering Rachel, and that she should go check up on her.
On her way out, she can hear the words "wine", "exchange", and "tunnels."
Tunnels? Whatever would Cosima need tunnels for? Her thoughts are diverted once she reaches the stairs going up the Tower of the Hand, and lets herself in the main room, but stops when she reaches the door to the study. There is silence on the other side, which is a good sign, she supposes, but with Rachel, almost nothing is a good sign after a rampage like that, so Allison timidly knocks on the wooden door, before bravely opening it, not waiting for an answer.
The place is an absolute mess, looking like someone was murdered in there, which isn't really beyond the realms of possibility considering that it's Rachel, who she saw is standing in the midst of the chaos she created, calm as a statue.
"I needed to redecorate this dreary place." the blonde speaks up, not even bothering to look at her. "So I decided to help out with the demolition."
"What would you like to be done? " Allison asks, not knowing what else to say so she goes along with the thread of conversation. For a moment, the blonde says nothing, just standing still, looking absolutely calm and absolutely eerie.
"Glass." Her green eyes alone move, from one side of the wall to the other.
"I'm sorry, glass?" the russet haired woman repeats, not quite understanding.
"Yes, glass." Rachel finally turns to face her, nothing but business in her tone. "I will have these brick walls replaced with glass." She casually steps over the mess on the floor like it wasn't there. "I will have the best craftsman from Myr summoned. Come, Lady Allison, we are still to discuss the new trading arrangements from your Riverrun and High Garden." and just like that, she disappears at the doorway, leaving Allison to shake the confusion off and follow her when she does.
What, in the name of the Seven, was that? She gives up, deciding to catch up to Rachel instead, and talk about something that won't make her head hurt.
That had been three days ago already, and a much calmer Rachel is once again standing in her soon to be renovated study, having sent for the best glass and metal craftsmen all the way from Myr. She decided to take a step back from her explosive emotions, and only came back when she deemed herself calm enough to face it again. The setting sun casts a yellow orange glow but doesn't quite reach the corners. Yes, glass it is.
She reopens the stone compartment, placing the cover on the floor, then stops short. She didn't see it before, because she always laid the cover face down, but now that she is holding it face up, she can see that it has also been hollowed out, but more important than that, there is a piece of paper in it. She carefully pries it off, spreading the paper open.
My Little Lioness
That's it. That's all that is written on it, no matter how many times she flips it over. It's what her father used to call her, but he stopped calling her that when she reached her twelfth nameday. She can feel the familiar pang of disappointment and frustration yet again, but then her heart starts accelerating, not from the anger, but from finally feeling like she is going somewhere...something almost like hope.
My Little Lioness
She also remembers the first time he called her that, when she was only three years old, and wandered in his study in Casterly Rock, looking for him.
"Curious little cub, aren't you?" He sits her on his lap, and giggles when he taps her nose. "No, a little lioness. My little lioness."
She stands up on shaky legs, then orders one of the guards to call for someone, after putting everything back in its place. She heads for the closet, unbuckling her thin gold belt and shedding her dress while she does, leaving her in her undergarments. Eyeing the array of clothes, she chooses her least incoscpicuous dress, which is an almost impossible decision to make since all her dresses are made from the finest materials and always in the latest fashion. Still, she supposes that the softer, thinner, and simplest dress( for her, at least) would do, and as an afterthought, she grabs her father's darkest cloak, thanking the gods that she has yet to remove his clothes.
There is a hurried knock on the door, and a young lad comes stumbling in, but she barely acknowledges his presence, barking off orders before he even manages to catch his breath.
"Martin, go to the stables, find the master in charge of the family's personal carriage, and tell him to prepare it, but to remove all Lannister markings on it. and tell him to find a driver who can be trusted and to ready the fastest horses in the stables."
He was still staring at her wide eyed, trying to remember everything she just said.
"Go!"
He scurries off, almost tripping himself. Rachel secures the tie on the cloak, feeling wired for the first time ever since her father's death, like a hound who caught the scent of blood and is ruthlessly pursuing it.
Everything is done swiftly and in secrecy, and within the hour, the clip clop of horses can be heard as they pull the carriage away and into the night,
But of course, there is one person who deals with all manners of secrecy, and the only notable person to know of tonights activities. Felix is standing on the high walls above his quarters, eyes following the solitary carriage going down Shadowblack Lane until it blends into the darkness, his sight going over the horizon, over what he surmises is the theoretical destination. His usual mocking/happy face is gone, replaced with a serious expression, his brows drawn together,
What are you hurrying to see in Casterly Rock, Rachel Lannister?
He turns at the sound of boots scuffing, eyes flitting to the young Lannister lad, a distant cousin of the main family, coming back from the postern, an inconspicuous gate or doorway for those who wish to come or go in secret. Martin, now, was it? Hmm, perhaps he can be an immense help in answering my question.
AN: Everybody's pulling pranks and shouting April Fool's and I'm here sitting like Happy Birthday Elizabeth Childs, because yes, that's how attached I am to a character who only appears for less than three minutes and dies in the first episode. FML. To me, she's a leftie, because the first thing I noticed (I dont know why) when she was putting her clothes down at the station was her watch is worn on her right hand. …...Still waiting for that Beth episode to happen.
I'm so sorry for automatically assuming that people who read this are also fans of Game of Thrones, so to the reader who requested a reference for the titles and lands and all those who don't read/watch game of thrones, I hope this helps:
The King, addressed as "your grace" or, protector of the realms, or lord of the seven kingdoms.
The Hand, is the second highest position of authority, an advisor and has the power to make decisions on behalf of the king, the chief planner on things, and is usually the real power behind an inept king, the person mainly responsible for holding the kingdoms together.
The Small Council is an advising body anointed by the King, sort of like a political cabinet. They are the ones who discuss and handle matters concerning the realm. The Hand is the primary advisor, and can preside over a meeting when the King is absent.
The Master of Coin is the treasurer and takes care of the City's finances.
The Master of Whisperers is the spy/intelligence operative, gathering secrets and information even beyond Westeros.
The Master of Laws makes sure that the laws are enforced, sort of like the chief justice and go to person in all things legal.
The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard or Whitecloaks(knights specifically chosen to guard to king and the royal family) is the military expert, in things concerning security or warfare.
The Master of Ships, commanding the royal Navy and adviser on sea battles.
The Grand Maester is like the highest appointment given to a maester,who are appointed to different regions, because he is appointed to the Capitl, the chief scholar in the order of scholars, and has the most number of chains, each chain representing a specific field mastered. Maesters are the ones who are educated in the different fields, like medicine, ravenry, history, poisons, astronomy, etc.
The houses introduced so far:
House Baratheon, ruling King's Landing
House Lannister, ruling the Westerlands, rich in natural resources esp metals, making the Lannisters the richest and essentially most powerful in the kingdoms.
House Martell, ruling Dorne
House Tully, ruling the Riverlands, controlling the passagewway to the north and having fertile lands.
House Tyrell, ruling Highgarden,a very fertile land very favourable for agriculture and helps supply food for the less fertile lands, making them the second richest family.
I'm gonna introduce more, as the story progresses, but if you have more requests or questions, fire away, I'll do my best, because the world created by George R.R. Martin is enormous and intricate.
Thank you for reading.