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Areon was leaning on the balcony in his room, feeding Drogon, who was learning how to burn the meat alone.
"Dracarys," Areon commanded gently as Drogon looked down on the meat, then back up to Areon, tilting his head as if confused. Trying again, Areon more firmly said, "Dracarys."
Hearing the command, Drogon slowly breathes until he spits a tiny flame, cooking the raw meat before him and then eating it.
Areon chuckles as Ser Jorah makes his presence known, "It appears he can feed himself now."
"Yes," Areon said while petting his dragon before taking him up in his hands to take him to his cage with the other dragon Rhaegal.
"Your sister is doing the same with Viserion," Jorah said.
Areon puts Drogon in the cage, "Yes. He's her dragon now."
Jorah jokes, "I thought you were the Father of Dragons."
"Oh, yes, that name," Areon sighs, going to his bed where the luxurious robes were waiting for him for tonight's feast. "Father of Dragons. Viserion seemed attached to her now, so why not?" He then picks up one of the robes, "I don't know which one to wear. Xaro gave me so many that are so nice."
"They say he is the most wealthy man in Qarth," Jorah tells him.
"Is that so," Areon said. "But we still can't trust him. And I hope you would be by Dany's side to protect her."
"She has Dothraki men to protect her," Jorah tells him, "Someone needs to stay at your side to protect you."
Areon looks to Jorah, giving an appreciated smile, "I thank you." Jorah smiles back at him as he leaves so Areon can get ready. But then the young Targaryen asked, "Jorah, do you think you could teach me how to fight? Drogo taught me much, but I showed as many fighting styles as possible."
Jorah bowed, "It would be an honor, Your Grace."
"Good," Areon smiles as he dramatically appreciates having Ser Jorah with him.
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The sun began to set as the feast was held in Xaro palace. Everyone mingled and drank together, dressed in fine and extravagant robes, although the most important topic was the arrival of the Targaryens. Daenerys was wearing a light blue dress with gold ornaments, while Areon wore a red robe and a simple black headdress to cover his bald head, which began to grow more hair.
Everyone wanted to speak with them, ask them questions, and wish to have an audience with them. Areon was used to only some of the attention and tried his best to keep up with them all, but he was grateful for Jorah to be by his side, especially since most of the guests he talked to were women and young girls. It went on for hours as all wanted to speak with Areon. Jorah begins to see that Areon is getting overwhelmed by it, so he decides to take him aside to the table of food that is nearby to give him a break.
"So, many people," Areon sighed while grabbing a drink.
"I'm afraid you are the main subject for the feast. It is in your honor," Jorah tells him, "Besides, a king must always be open to speaking with his people."
Areon becomes a bit hesitant about him being King. He was still unsure if he wanted to be one, so deciding to change the subject, he looked around to see Daenerys mingling with other people so easily, "At least my sister has better luck with it."
"Yes, she wins hearts and minds so easily," Jorah said while staring at her with a look that Areon couldn't tell.
Areon was about to say something, but a voice suddenly became known.
"Father of Dragons," Pyat Pree announces as he suddenly appears before all, "On behalf of the warlocks of Qarth, I welcome you. A demonstration?"
Pyatt Pree reluctantly offers his hand as Areon takes it since Xaro warned him not to trust him.
Take this gem." The warlock places the gem in Areon's palm, "Look at it. Into its depths. There are so many facets. Look closely enough, and you can see yourself in them. Often more than once."
Areon did as instructed, but then he looked to Pyatt Pree and saw a doppelganger standing behind him, causing the crowd to gasp.
"Should you grow tired of Xaro's baubles and trinkets, it would be an honor to host you at the House of the Undying," Pyatt Pree proclaims, "You are always welcome, Father of Dragons."
Pyatt Pree and his twin leave while the crowd applauds at the illusion. Xaro comes to Areon's side from the crowd. "My apologies. Pyatt Pree is one of the Thirteen. It was customary for me to extend him an invitation. Customs die slow deaths in Qarth."
"What is the House of the Undying," Areon asked.
"It is where the warlocks go to squint at dusty books and drink the shade of the evening. It turns their lips blue and their minds soft," Xaro explains, "So soft, they believe their parlor tricks are magic."
Areon was about to say something, but then Quaithe appeared in the crowd, staring intently at him. Areon could still remember his dream about her as she looked the same, with the robe and the mask. He wonders why he had a dream about her. He then remembers the silver-masked being he hasn't seen yet but believes he might see him soon. But being focused on Quaithe, he sees her walking away, but she still has eyes on him, most likely urging him to follow her.
Wanting to know more, Areon quickly excuses himself as he follows her. Jorah was about to come, but Areon told him to stay and protect Dany. Following her quickly, Areon passed by everyone who wished to speak with him, but he ignored them as he returned inside the palace corridors while racing after her. As he went past a gallery, Areon stopped to see Quaithe standing still with her back turned.
"You know me," Areon asked her.
"You are the Father of Dragons," Quaithe turns slowly to him, "You dream."
Areon's eyes widened. "My dreams. What do you know of my dreams?"
"You dream of what is to be," Quaithe said, "You dreamt dragons would return, and now they have. They shall come day and night to see the wonder born into the world again. And when they see, they shall lust, for dragons are fire-made flesh. And fire is power. Beware of them. Beware of all but your ancestral kin."
"My ancestral kin," Areon repeats, "Who's that?"
Quaithe did not say anything as she walked behind a large column. Areon walks after her, but when he passes the queue, she is gone. Confused, Areon looked around the hallway, but she was gone without a trace. Walking around a bit to be sure, with no luck, Areon returned to the party in the outside courtyard, where everyone was talking. Areon looks around to see if Quaithe is in the crowd, but to no avail.
Xaro walks up to him, "Did the Shadow speak in riddles?"
Startling him, Areon looks behind, seeing it was Xaro, "I just…. She seemed like she wanted to talk."
"Yes, all is not what it seems in Qarth," Xaro said, gesturing for Areon to walk with him, "And you can never be sure who your enemies and friends are."
"And are you a friend," Areon asked as they began to walk through the palace terrace.
"Time can tell," Xaro gives a cryptic smirk, "And you should know that you have enemies here. But you are also friends at your house. Even kin."
"Kin," Areon repeats, remembering Quaithe telling him about ancestral kin.
"A member of a family from the West has been married into Qarth," Xaro explains, "From the House Longwaters."
"Longwaters," Areon said, unsure of that name.
"They bear the blood of House Targaryen," Xaro tells him, "Their founder was a bastard son of a Velaryon lord and a Targaryen princess. And they once fought with your father during the rebellion until he was deposed."
"Murdered," Areon corrects, judging by what he heard from Viserys. Their father was slain by Jaime Lannister, Tywin Lannister's son, one of the men responsible for their family's ruin.
"Yes," Xaro nods his head, "Murdered. And when Robert Baratheon came to power, his sister was married to the family, making them allies by blood."
"And one is here," Areon said as he looked around to see if they were in the feast tonight, wondering if he would get attacked.
"Yes," Xaro then guides him inside the palace, "However, the Longwaters have seen that Robert Baratheon was not the type of King to follow. And they saw disaster coming. For their house and their country. So, they advised a plan to install someone worthy of the throne."
Xaro guides Areon through a hallway until they come upon a room. As he opens the doors, Areon is confused to see a woman standing in the middle of the room. She is of average height with flowing blonde hair styled in elaborate ringlets that almost look silver and brown eyes. She is wearing a purple-maroon velvet dress with Myrish lace. The woman is accompanied by a couple of guards, who wear armor depicting a sea dragon.
Once Areon and Xaro were inside, the doors closed behind them as the woman smiled, "Greetings, Your Grace. My name is Jerika Longwaters. I am a sister to Lord Jonathor Longwaters. An old ally of your father from years before."
Areon's eyes widened by this. "My father?"
"We have been waiting for you." Jerika goes to sit on a chair before a fireplace, gesturing for him to sit in the chair in front of him. Areon looks behind him, seeing Xaro leaving the room and closing the doors.
When they were alone, Areon slowly went to the chair to sit, eyeing the guards in the room with them, "You knew my father?"
"We met from time to time," Jerika tells him, "But my brother was a member of his council during the Targaryen reign. Before Robert's Rebellion."
"But it's true," Areon wonders, still unsure if he was safe, "Robert Baratheon's sister married into the family?"
"Lady Hellen was not blind to her brother's faults," Jerika stated, "To the faults of all her brothers. That is why she and Lord Jonathor plan to restore House Targaryen on the Iron Throne."
Areon needed to figure out what to feel. He barely survived in the Red Waste desert; now he is in Qarth, being told he has support in Westeros. "Does Robert Baratheon know his sister is working against him?"
"Your Grace," Jerika leans forward slowly, "Robert Baratheon is dead."
Areon's eyes widen with shock. The main who rebelled against his father, who overthrew House Targaryen, who killed his brother Rhaegar, who sent an assassin to kill his sister, is dead.
"He died some time ago from a hunting mishap," Jerika explains, "His supposed son has taken the throne, but there are rumors."
"Rumors," Areon repeated, still trying to comprehend what he was hearing.
"Joffrey Baratheon is not Robert's son," Jerika revealed, "Neither are his younger siblings, Myrcella and Tommen. King Robert only had one legitimate child, Princess Cassana Baratheon. We have reason to believe that Queen Cersei has bored those children with her twin brother, Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer."
Areon was again floored by this, "Children… with her brother."
"Yes, an act suited only by the blood of Old Valyria," Jerika said, "And Robert's brothers, Renly and Stannis, had known as well, so they decided to go to war against him. And each other for the throne."
"Westeros is at war," Areon asked.
"Yes," Jerika answered, "Between House Baratheon. The Starks and the Lannisters fight each other. Lord Eddard Stark also discovered the truth, and the Lannisters killed him. Launching a war between the two families."
Not sure what to make of this, Areon asked, "What do you want from me?"
Jerika stares at him intently, "For years, Westeros has been seemingly in a state of peace, but in reality, it has been a boil of war that has finally reached the surface. Many families, including my own, have been affected by this. War, death, and destruction have engulfed the country. Westeros needs someone strong and capable to put it back in order. Not just for noble houses but for the people. The people who want to live their lives peacefully without any fear of death for themselves and their families. They need someone who can rule, not over them, but for them. Someone with a strong will and a strong family name."
"You said Robert had brothers," Areon reminds her, "Why won't you go to them?"
"Stannis is next in line, but he has fallen prey to a foreign woman, spouting false teaching, leading him astray and burning people alive for her queer god," Jerika explains, "And Renly has fallen prey to the Tyrells. An ambitious family who wishes to use him for their own purposes. A true king should be someone who is not blinded or swayed so easily by those who wish to use him."
"And how can you be sure that is me," Areon said, still unsure to trust her.
"After watching you defend your sister when your brother Viserys tries to harm her," Jerika said, causing Areon's eyes to widen, "We have been trailing you for some time now. And we've seen how you care for her. Just as she and you care for others. We believe you are the ruler Westeros needs to save it from itself."
Areon was utterly stunned by this. They had been following him for god knows how long—spying on him, watching his every movement. And now here they are, asking him to be king. He doesn't know what to think.
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Once Jerika explains everything in Westeros, Areon goes to Dany and Jorah, who meet in his room to discuss what to do next. However, it was more likely that Jorah and Dany were debating their next move.
"You cannot trust what they say," Jorah insisted, "They might just be trying to stop you from returning to Westeros. Or kill you. We should leave Qarth now."
"She said they had spies follow us for a year now since we met Drogo," Areon argues, still trying to process what he just went through. "They still have contact with Illyrio Mopatis. If they wanted to kill us, they would've done it by now."
"And what if they are our allies," Dany argues, "What if they are telling the truth? What else did she say?"
"She said that after Joffrey executed Ned Stark, the Starks and the Lannisters have been at war with one another, and the Baratheon brothers are fighting each other," Areon recalling what Jerika told him, "They're calling it the War of Five Kings."
"And you believe the Longwaters are willing to help you," Jorah asked as if they were mad, "Hellen Baratheon is Robert's sister and a council member since the Rebellion."
"But her husband was also a member of my father's council," Areon said, "They remained loyal during Robert's Rebellion."
"And they are willing to help us," Dany asked.
"It seems so," Areon said as he went to the cage where the dragons were.
"Then the time to strike is now. We can get ships and an army while we still can," Dany urges.
"Even if they do wish to aid you, it is not for selfless reasons," Jorah councils against this, "Rich men do not become rich by giving more than they get. They'll give you ships and soldiers and own you forever."
Areon stayed quiet during this. Dany advises him to accept the Longwater's help, and Jorah tells him not to.
"You should make your way," Jorah tells him, "Raise your army, and when the people see you can win, they will flock to you. Moving carefully is the hard way, but it's the right way."
"If I wish to take a path," Areon confesses quietly but still loud enough for them to hear.
"What," Dany asked.
"Well," Areon stutters, "What if I decide not to take their offer? What if I decide not to go to Westeros?"
"You don't want to take back the Iron Throne," Dany asked, "Our home that they stole from us?"
"It hasn't been our home for years, Dany," Areon reasons, "Besides, why fight to take it back and become king when I don't have to?"
"You don't wish to go home, or you don't wish to be king," Jorah asked again, realizing what he was saying.
Areon looks down to the floor while fidgeting his hands before whispering, "I don't know."
Dany and Jorah stand there, unsure what to say, as Areon finally tells them the truth. He's curious if he wants to be king or not. The question has always been on his mind. He never thought he would be a king or see Westeros, no matter how many times Viserys promised them, even after Dany married Drogo. He honestly doesn't know.
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Jerika Longwaters, riding a chariot, arrives at her own home as night comes upon the city of Qarth. Once entering her home, she sees her foreign husband in the foyer, waiting for her.
"How was it," her husband said.
Jerika approaches her as the front doors close, "He's untrusting as he should be. But I planted the seed, and we shall see where to go from there. Where's my nephew?"
"In his room waiting for you," her husband said as she went to see her nephew, walking down the halls before coming to the bedroom door. She knocks as the person inside the room bids her to come in. Once she does, she meets a young man with black hair and blue eyes, reading on his bed.
"Steffon," Jerika greeted as she came into the room.
"How did it go," Steffon asked.
"Still wondering who to trust," Jerika said, "We still need more time."
"Are you sure he can be a good king," Steffon wonders, "I mean, following him around for a year and a half doesn't mean he can do well with a crown?"
"I am aware," Jerika said as she sat on the foot of the bed next, "So is your father. That is why we need to keep an eye on him. And to do that is for you to be close to him. As an advisor, you can know what kind of king he can be. It can also be good to teach him to be a king. If he proves himself, then we have our king."
"And if he doesn't," Steffon challenges.
Jerika looks at him seriously, "Well, then I guess we have no choice but to ensure he's dealt with. Just be patient, Steffon. If we do it well, then all will go as planned."
"Alright," Steffon said, "I just hope all this won't be for nothing."
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Hellen Baratheon was in her bedchambers, reading a letter with dreaded news that came to the capital. Renly Baratheon has died. Her little brother. It was a shocking heartache for her. She mourned the loss of Robert long before his death, but Renly was a different matter. She remembers the small boy of their childhood growing up. How gallant and charming he was. While he was a bit frivolous, he was still her brother, who now followed Robert to the grave.
Deep in her thoughts, Hellen heard the door open and close gently, seeing that her husband came into the room, "I heard what happened."
Folding the letter while trembling, Hellen mutters shaky, "He's gone. They said his Kingsguard killed him. Others say it was Catelyn Stark."
"I doubt that," Jonathor said as he gently placed his hands on her shoulders, "I'm so sorry dear."
Hellen folds the paper to put it on the desk and then places her hand to her mouth as it trembles, "I just keep thinking of the little boy he was. And now…. Those Tyrells. They've always been ambitious. They just kept whispering in his ear. I tried warning him about them."
"But he didn't listen," Jonathor finished her thought. "He was always impulsive. Too bold."
"Well, who could blame him," Hellen sighed, "Having a large army of sufficient soldiers, a wealthy family giving him an alliance, loyalty from the half Stormlands and the Reach, giving him control of the food supply. Of course, he thought he could win against Stannis."
"You think Stannis might have done something," Jonathor asked.
"Stannis would never resort to kinslaying," Hellen harshly denies before tears threatened to fall, "He would never do that. Not to Renly."
Not able to hold it in, Hellen begins to cry as Jonathor holds her close in his embrace, which causes her to turn and bury her face in his chest as she continues crying.
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"Killed? By whom?" Cersei looks out the window of her bedchambers, seeing her daughters, Cassana and Myrcella, and their friends playing together. She is still infuriated that her youngest daughter will be married off to the Martells.
"Accounts differ," Tyrion explains as he picks up a goblet, "Most seem to implicate Catelyn Stark somehow."
"I highly doubt it was her; otherwise, you would've been killed the moment she saw you back at the Riverlands," Lenora commented, sitting at the table with her siblings around her.
"Some say it was one of his own Kingsguard, while others say it was Stannis himself who did it after negotiations went sour," Tyrion suggested while pouring some wine.
"Whoever did it, I say well done," Cersei proclaims sarcastically with her cup of wine in the air.
"It's not what Varys says. He says Renly's army is flocking to support Stannis, which would give Stannis superiority over us on land and sea," Tyrion reported.
"We do have the sea with the Longwater fleet," Lenora says, "It's just the land we need to worry about."
Cersei sits across from Lenora, "Littlefinger says we can outspend him three to one."
"And I say Father raised you to have too much respect for money," Tyrion counters, "Stannis Baratheon is coming for us, sooner rather than later."
"Aren't there other things you should be doing, like sealing my youngest daughter in a crate so you can ship her away?" Cersei says bitterly.
"Cersei, it might be better for Myrcella to leave," Lenora tries to say, "In fact, you should probably be doing the same with Tommen and Cass, too. The farther they all are, the safer they will be."
"Yes, I know how concerned you are for their safety," Cersei remarks sarcastically.
"They're my nieces and nephew; of course, I'm concerned for their safety," Lenora said.
"Myrcella is a sweet, innocent girl, and we don't blame her at all for you," Tyrion japes as Lenora rolls her eyes at her siblings' bickering.
As she leaves the table to a chair, Cersei says, away from her younger siblings, "So clever. Aren't you always so clever with your schemes and your plots?"
"Schemes and plots are the same thing," Tyrion comments.
Having had enough of their bickering, Lenora stood from her seat. "That's enough. We have more important matters to worry about. Stannis is coming to attack us any day now, and we're not ready."
"No need to concern yourself over it, sister," Cersei said, "The king is taking personal charge of siege preparations."
"What kind of preparations," Lenora raises a brow since Joffrey doesn't get involved in politics.
"Preparations that you are not privileged to receive," Cersei tells her.
"Not privileged," Lenora repeats, "Cersei, we need to know."
As Tyrion approaches her, Cersei chuckles while drinking her wine, "We must talk about this."
Staying silent momentarily, Cersei does not relent, "It's the king's royal prerogative to withhold sensitive information from his councilors."
Seeing he wouldn't get an answer, Tyrion leaves the room while Cersei drinks her wine.
Still in the room, Lenora tells her sister, "Cersei, right now, we are fighting a war. We lost one enemy, but now the other one has grown stronger. We need to start working with each other if we are going to survive. Please."
Cersei didn't say anything but continued to drink her wine. Lenora sighed in frustration and left the room, seeing she was getting nowhere with her.
"She's planning, but she's never going to tell us," Lenora said, walking through the hallways with Tyrion.
"I know," Tyrion agrees, "We need to find out if it's going to help us or make things worse."
"Luckily, we have someone who knows," Lenora said as she immediately thought of Lancel.
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In the royal gardens of the Red Keep, Cass and her friends were playing with Myrcella and her friends. Since the young princess's marriage is official, Cass decides to spend as much time with her as possible. However, Lenora wasn't there with them.
Jocelyn and Myrcella were playing more with each other since they were closer in age, while Ceryse, Ema, and Cass laughed on as Myrcella wore a blindfold while Jocelyn called out her name in some game. While Ceryse was laughing, Ema decided to speak with Cass on something.
"It's good that you are spending time with Myrcella," Ema said.
"She will be leaving soon," Cass said, "Who knows when I'll see her after that."
"It would be nice if all of us were here," Ema said.
Cass looks at her, "What do you mean?"
"Lenora," Ema said as she was not with them, "You haven't spoken to her in a while."
Cass crosses her arms, "Well, she hasn't spoken to me either."
"Because of what you said about her father and her family," Ema reminds her gently.
"Well, it's true," Cass defends herself, "She was acting like Joffrey killing babies was nothing."
"She was just explaining why it happened," Ema defends her friend, "It's not like she agrees with it; in fact, she hates it. You know how her father is. She hates how ruthless he is, but that's how her family is. And you know that. She's not just your friend and don't forget your aunt too. She has always been there for you and tried to help you."
Cass rolls her eyes and sighs, "Alright, maybe I was a bit too harsh."
"A bit," Ema raises her brow.
Cass looks to the side before saying, "I'll talk to her."
"Good," Ema smiled while comforting Cass's arm as they returned to the game the other girls were playing.
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After parting ways with Tyrion, Lenora goes to her room with Lancel, and they secretly share information about Cersei's plans.
"Wildfire," Lenora repeats what she heard, "Are you sure?"
"Yes," Lancel nods, "The Alchemists' Guild is being commissioned."
"How many," Lenora asked.
"I don't know," Lancel said quickly, which Lenora noticed.
Eyeing him, Lenora asked, "You're not lying, are you?"
"No, I'm not," Lancel shakes his head nervously.
"Yes, you are," Lenora deduced.
"I'm not lying," Lancel insisted, "Why would I lie?"
"Because Cersei frightens you," Lenora assumes, "Right? But Tyrion can be frightening right now, and I can tell him just as easily as I can tell the king."
"They have thousands of pots already stored in their vaults," Lancel quickly admits, "They are planning to launch it from the city walls into Stannis' ships and armies."
"Did she tell you this," Lenora asked.
"I heard her talking with the pyromancer," Lancel said, "And the other night, after I left her, she went to meet him. I swear to you."
"Alright, I believe you," Lenora said, seeing he was telling the truth. "Now you better go, and if there's anything else you find out, tell me first."
Lancel nods as he gets up to leave the room, as Lenora contemplates what to do next. But before she does, she calls him out, "Lancel." He turns to her with a stressed look, "I just want to say I appreciate what you're doing. Helping when you don't have to. I know it hasn't been easy, and I know I'm not making it easy. So, thank you."
Lancel just stood there, taken by surprise that Lenora just thanked him. He never heard that much in his life. Not from being in service to Cersei, not being a squire to Robert Baratheon, not even from his father, Kevan Lannister, and especially not Tyrion. Many people would dismiss or use him for whatever they want and be done with him, so to have Lenora say this was… uplifting for him.
"Thank you, cousin," Lancel said, giving a half smile to her as she smiled back.
After finishing things, Lancel left the room as Lenora stayed to figure out what to do next. Suddenly, there was a knock at the door, getting her attention. Going to answer the door, Lenora opens it to see it is Cass.
"Hi, can we talk," Cass asked quietly.
Surprised by this visit, Lenora nods, "Of course."
Letting Cass in, Lenora closed the door so they could talk privately.
Once they were both sitting on Lenora's bed, Cass began the conversation, "We haven't talked to each other since… well after what I said."
"It's fine," Lenora says, "It was after Joffrey did what he did to your father's…. other children. You were going through something."
"Yes, but I shouldn't have taken it out on you. So, I'm sorry," Cass apologizes.
Lenora gives a smile, opening her arms, "Apology accepted."
Smiling back, Cass goes to Lenora's embrace as the two giggle a bit while hugging. The door opened again, revealing Jocelyn, Ceryse, and Ema.
"Is it over," Jocelyn asked as they came in carefully.
"Yes, everything is fine," Lenora chuckles, "What were you all doing there?"
"Just making sure that Cass apologizes for what she said," Ema said as they all went to bed.
"Well, I did," Cass teases.
"Good," Ema teases back, "So, now we can have fun together again."
"I had something to do with Tyrion, but I'm sure it can wait now," Lenora suggested, as she missed her friends.
Cass then forms an idea in her head, "I have an idea. But you all promise not to say anything about it."
"Oh, no," Lenora groans, knowing Cass forces them to do things they're not supposed to, "Like what?"
"Promise me," Cass urges again, forcing all the girls to promise.
After some long convincing, mostly to Lenora, the girls, along with Jarred, all dressed as commoners from the laundry room for the servants, all went to the hallway where the secret passageway was waiting for them as night fell on King's Landing. Sansa was with them, although they ensured no one knew that. They all stood before the painting of a forest hanging on the wall between two torches.
"This is a bad idea," Lenora tries to stop them.
"Oh, come on," Cass said as she opened the hanging portrait, "You can't say that you're not interested."
"If anyone knows about this," Lenora tries again.
"They won't," Cass assures her as she goes in the passageway, "I used this all the time. I even took Sansa down here one time."
"What," Lenora said as Sansa looked at her uneasily.
"Come on," Jocelyn said as she rushed into the passageway, "I want to go see."
"Just be careful," Ema said as she did the same.
Ceryse gives Lenora a shrug before joining them. Sansa stays still for a while, but then she puts her head down and quickly rushes into the passageway. Jarred and Lenora were the only ones left. Lenora asked him, "Are you going to let this happen?"
"Knowing Cass," Jarred begins, although he doesn't think there's much more to say as he simply goes in, leaving the Lannister in the hallway.
Giving a frustrated grunt, Lenora quickly follows in and closes the portrait before anyone else notices. After following Cass, she takes them to the stables where she and Sansa got the horses last time, and then they all go to Fishmonger's Square. Cass, Ema, Ceryse, and Jocelyn were all having fun, going to booths, stores, and stands to see what they had to offer, while Lenora and Sansa stayed close to Jarred, who was protecting them.
"Good thing no one recognizes us," Jarred mumbles as Lenora agrees with him while Sansa clutches her arm.
Soon, the other girls approached them, Ema saying, "There's so much here."
"It's one of my favorite places to be in," Cass said as they walked around the market together.
"Are there any other places the passages take you," Ceryse said.
"Oh, yes," Cass said cheekily, "Much more."
"Well, let's just be careful," Jarred said, "The less we attract attention, the better."
"I just thought it would be fun for us," Cass said while wrapping her arm around Sansa, "Especially Sansa."
"Thank you, Cass," Sansa said with an appreciative smile as she wanted to forget things.
Cass was glad she got her friends to go with her to the Fishmonger's Market, although there was another reason: She saw the blacksmith shop there. According to Jocelyn, Lord Eddard Stark went there to see one of Robert's bastards, so she decided to look. Jarred wanted to come, but Cass told him to stay with her friends for protection and that she would return in a minute. With her cloak on, the princess went to the blacksmith shop, seeing all the metal and weapons they made hanging on the walls.
"Can I help you, my lady," a voice was heard, causing Cass to turn, seeing it was a middle-aged blacksmith, bald and with a beard.
"Just browsing," Cass tells him.
The blacksmith raised a brow, "A strange place for a young girl to be here."
"Well, a girl needs to protect herself, does she not," Cass japed.
The blacksmith chuckled slightly from the comment, "I suppose that's true. See anything you like?"
Trying to keep up with the allusion that she was buying something, Cass decides to look around until she finds a dagger that piques her interest. "Perhaps this."
"Three coppers," the blacksmith said as he took the dagger for wrapping.
Cass takes out some copper coins she took with her to keep up with her disguise and pays him, "I remember there was an apprentice here. A young man."
"Yes, I'm afraid he no longer works here," the blacksmith said.
Cass stiffens when he says that, hoping that he wasn't killed like the others. "What happened?"
"No, he left the city for the Night's Watch," the blacksmith said.
"Oh," Cass nodded, relief that one of her half-siblings got away. "Must be an honor."
"I suppose," the blacksmith said as he took the money from her.
"I have trouble remembering what he looked like," Cass said, "He had black hair and blue eyes, right?"
The blacksmith thought for a moment, then shrugged. "Yes, Why?"
"I was hoping to speak with him and wanted to make sure I had the right one," Cass said, trying not to seem suspicious.
"Pretty girl like you interested in a blacksmith apprentice," the blacksmith chuckled while giving her the dagger.
"He was handsome," Cass lies as she has never seen him before but wants to keep up appearances.
"Well, I'm afraid he's long gone by now," the blacksmith said.
Cass hums, wishing the apprentice was still her so she could see him. Mostly for her investigation, but also because he was curious about her half-sibling, but she was too late. Once she got the dagger, she left the blacksmith shop to find her friends and saw them over a crowd where a man stood above them all, yelling about something.
Cass goes to them, "What's going on here?"
"Some commotion thought to check it out," Jarred tells her.
Ceryse asked her, "Did you find what you were looking for?"
Cass shrugs, holding out the dagger she bought, showing Jarred and Ceryse that she didn't get what she sought.
"Why did you buy a dagger," Emma asked.
"You never know when you need it," Cass said as they paid attention to the man speaking to the crowd.
"We are swollen, bloated, foul," The man yells, "Brother fornicates with sister in the bed of kings, and we're surprised when the fruit of their incest is rotten. Yes, a rotten king."
"Rotten king," Jocelyn questions.
Ema whispers to her, "Must be Joffrey. Considering the rumors have been all over King's Landing."
However, Cass, Ceryse, and Jarred looked at each other, reminding themselves of their conversations about discovering if the rumors were true. Lenora kept to herself as she knew the rumors were true, wishing she didn't have to hear this.
"A dancing king, prancing down his bloodstained halls to the tune of a twisted demon monkey," The man proclaims, causing others to laugh and cheer.
"Demon monkey," Jocelyn giggles.
"Must be about Tyrion," Jarred guesses, "My father said the people are blaming him."
"Why," Lenora asked, knowing Tyrion was doing good for the realm.
"There has been a blockade on the food supply," Jarred explains, "People are hungry and getting angry. They need to blame it on someone."
Cass observes her surroundings, noticing people around her cheering and raising their fists as if plotting a rebellion. She had never given any thought to the common people before. She had always assumed they were living their lives the way they wanted without realizing how much they were affected by the ongoing war. But now, as she looks at them, she sees that they are wearing tattered clothing, and most of them are skinny and bony, starving from the lack of food.
"So many people are upset," Cass sees everything still yelling.
"Of course they are," said an old haggard woman wearing torn clothes nearby. Her white hair was dirty and messy. "Stark, Lannister, Baratheon - they all make our lives hell with their war. This never would have happened during the reign of the Old King."
The six companions look at the woman, wondering what she meant by that.
"King Robert," Cass asked.
The woman looks at her as if she said something stupid, "King Aerys. None of this happened when he was still King. Not before those rebels overthrew him."
The six companions look at the woman with shock. From the stories they heard from their parents, King Aerys was a madman who enjoyed burning people alive. He was the one who started Robert's Rebellion when he murdered Rickard and Brandon Stark, so to hear common people remember him fondly was surprising.
Sansa then said softly, "The Mad King."
"They say he was a madman," Jocelyn suddenly asked, gaining the attention of some.
"Rumors," the woman spat, "nothing bad happened to us. We weren't murdered, raped, or starved because of those petty lords, unlike now. I had a brother and three nieces who lived in the Riverlands, and the Lannister army slaughtered them. Butchered like animals."
"We are sorry for your loss," Lenora ends the conversation. Mostly because she saw they were attracting attention. "We must be going now."
Jarred agrees with her as they leave the protesting group, although some people are still eyeing them. He told them, "Let's get back to the Keep."
"Why," Cass said.
"Because it's things like these that riots happen," Jarred said.
"He's right; we need to go now," Lenora said as the companions left in a hurry for their horses to get back to the safety of the Keep, still having today's events on their minds.
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In the Riverlands, the Lannister army camped at Harrenhal as Lord Tywin, his son Gerold, and generals resided in the great hall. It was the largest holdfast in Westeros since the days of Aegon the Conqueror. It was ideal for military purposes—five towers of dizzying size with equally monstrous curtain walls. The walls are incredibly thick, and its rooms are built on a scale that would be more comfortable for giants than humans.
Lord Tywin and his generals were in a war council room within the holdfast, going over strategies as Arry, the new cupbearer, prepared the table.
"The Starks have overextended their lines," One of the generals, Lord Reginald, reported, "Now that summer's over, they'll have a hard time keeping their men and horses fed."
Tywin, at the head of the table, said, "The Starks understand winter better than we ever will. The cold won't beat them."
Another general said, "Our spies report growing discontent among the Northern lords. They want to return home and gather the harvest before the crops turn."
Tywin says, "And I'm sure if those same spies snuck into our encampments, they would report growing discontent amongst the Southern lords. This is war, no one's content. We've underestimated the Stark boy for too long. He had a good mind for warfare, and his men worshipped him. And as long as he keeps winning battles, they'll keep believing he is King in the North. You've been waiting for him to fail. He is not going to fail, not without our help. So how do we stop him?"
"There had been other reports that Robb Stark is crossing to the Westerlands as we speak," Gerold spoke up, "We could send ravens to the armies that are still there to form a blockade on them as they cross our lands, then we could send our men to meet at the rear. That way, we could strike the Northerner between both armies."
Tywin raises his brow and nods approvingly, "A clever strategy. Perhaps you take charge of it should it come to that."
Gerold kept his stoic expression, but a small smile crept in as he was glad his father was paying more attention to his opinions. Then Arry comes to pour wine into Gerold's cup before Tywin stops her, "Not wine, water. We'll be here for some time." Arry goes to get water from the table on the other side of the room until Tywin calls for her, "Girl, where are you from?"
As her body stiffened, Arry said, "Maidenpool, my lord."
Tywin then asked, "And who are the Lords of Maidenpool? Remind me."
"House Mooton, my lord," Arry answers.
Tywin then asked, "And what is their sigil?"
Arry stayed quiet as she didn't know the sigil, revealing that she was lying.
"A red salmon," Tywin answers, "I think a Maidenpool girl would remember that. You're a Northerner, aren't you?"
Arry slowly nods.
Tywin nods his head, "Good. One more time, where are you from?"
"Barrowton, my lord," Arry answers confidently, showing that she wasn't lying this time, "House Dustin. Two crossed long axes beneath a black crown."
Tywin asked, "And what do they say of Robb Stark in the North?"
"They call him the Young Wolf," Arry said.
"And," Tywin urges her to continue.
"They say he rides into battle on the back of a giant direwolf," Arry tells them all, "They say he can turn into a wolf himself when he wants. They say he can't be killed."
"And do you believe them," Tywin asked, wanting to know.
"No, my lord. Anyone can be killed," Arry said in a severe tone, causing all to turn to her with uncertainty about what she meant by that.
"Fetch that water," Tywin ordered without moving a muscle as Arry made quick with it.
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