Gwen
'So here's the thing. Everyone thinks that King's Landing belongs to the King of Westeros.
'But its doesn't.
'The King of Westeros has his seat of power in King's Landing but he doesn't own King's Landing. Not really. He can try and claim he does but that's no different than any child declaring they own it. Don't get me wrong, plenty of kings have tried to make their mark of King's Landing. Not denying that. But building a Sept or a Dragon Pit or a Red Keep doesn't mean that the city is YOUR'S. Most of the Kings of Westeros barely spent any time in King's Landing. The real King's Landing. The slums of Flea Bottom where behind every door there is a desperate person trying to determine just how far they are willing to go. The Street of Silk where they figured that out already. The Street of Steel where you can hardly take a step without hearing the clang of metal upon metal or the Street of Flour where a thousand different aromas do battle. They don't know of any of those, not really. So how can they claim that King's Landing belongs to them?
'Now you might say, "Okay, so the Small Council then". Except they don't either. They know tiny bits of it but that's like saying you own a horse because you know all about the saddle its wearing. And that's if they even bother to care.
'Winterfell has the Starks. Highgarden the Tyrells. Casterly Rock the Lannisters. And King's Landing?
'It has me.'
Gwen let go of her webline, feeling the sensation of her body slowly realizing that it was no longer able to go forward and up and the only option was down. Her organs shifting in her body, the blood rushing through her veins as the wind cut across her masked face; all of this she felt as she plummeted down, waiting til the last moment before firing off another webline and jerking back so hard that for anyone else their shoulders would have popped out of their sockets. But Gwen wasn't anyone else.
'King's Landing belongs to ME. It's my city. I was born here, brought into the world with the aid of a traveling former student of the Citadel. I grew up running around the streets, knowing which ones to never go down… and still going down them because I wanted to prove myself. My mother died here of the Summer Flu, my father died protecting it. And now me and my friends? We protect it and its people. All those that are forgotten. I am Gwen Stacey, the Spider-Woman and-'
"Are you monologuing?"
Gwen let out a yelp, flailing her arms wildly as she lost her grip of her webline, falling about ten feet before she managed to teleport to a wall and cling to it.
"Miles! What the hell?"
"Just wondering if you were monologuing in your head," he asked as he landed beside her.
"If I was what exactly?"
"Monologuing. You know, like in a mummur's play? Where a character steps off to the side and addresses the audience with their thoughts and feelings and such." She could tell from the way his mask shifted that Miles was smirking. "Petyr does it ALL THE TIME. Out loud too." He tilted his head. "Does he do that while you two are fucking?"
"Miles!" Gwen hissed.
"So there I was," Miles said in an overly dramatic voice, "using all my willpower not to blast my seed all over Gwen's thighs for the fifth time this month. I had to-"
She swung her hand out to smack him but Miles easily managed to leap away, chortling as he did so.
"Come on, you can't blame me for being curious!"
"Oh, watch me blame you!" Gwen said, standing on the wall and walking towards him.
"Right, right, sorry. We got off the topic at hand: were you monologuing? Because I have been swinging next to you for the last five minutes and you didn't even notice. I know Petyr gets distracted by his thoughts-"
"I wasn't monologuing," Gwen lied.
Miles tapped his chin. "Now why don't I believe you?"
"Because you are an idiot," she snapped. "What are you doing here, anyway? I thought you were going to patrol by the Mud Gate."
"I thought you might like some company. Maybe we work together?"
Gwen shot him a level stare. "Okay, so you know that I could easily take down five Jons in a fight-"
"You know he doesn't like it when we use him as a benchmark of strength," Miles pointed out.
Gwen smirked. Jon Stark had NOT been happy at all the first time he heard one of the Spiders reference him in terms of how powerful an opponent they'd fought was. She honestly didn't see why… they were very complimentary to him. The average thief or rapist in King's Landing was Half a Jon. And he had just stared at her in annoyance when she'd pointed out that using Natashas made no sense as then the fractions would be too messed up.
"I can easily take down five Jons in a fight. And you know I'm not Petyr and wouldn't go rushing into an enclosed space where there might be more than ten people." She walked up the wall to the roof and swung over it, settling down and waiting. After only a few moments Miles leapt up and joined her. "So… what's going on? Really?"
"…my dad took a surprise late patrol."
"Ah." Gwen wrapped an arm around Miles and gave him a squeeze. "He won't care."
"He will SO care!" Miles exclaimed. "Listen, you don't get it… your dad-" Gwen tensed, "-was amazing! He was so open to letting you try new things and super supportive of you. If he were here I just know we could have gone to him about all this. Okay, so he probably would have wanted you to be smart about it and not go out on your own but he still would have found ways to help you use your powers to help others."
Gwen didn't relax but that had now nothing to do with herself. Her dad had always been a touchy subject with her after his death; everyone skated around mentioning him. With her becoming a fixture in the Red Keep thanks to Lord Tyrion promoting him to Lord Commander of the City Watch she had run into many of the residents of the Red Keep and all of them hadn't known quite what to say to her after his death. The Queen had been awkward though Gwen knew part of that was because she couldn't decide how to feel about her. Gwen didn't attend sewing circles but rather liked to train in the yard but she also wore dresses and was polite and sweet at dinners. Sometimes the queen would look at her and Gwen would get the sense she was… jealous. The Small Council was useless in offering their condolences as Varys and Littlefinger had both offered her competing proposals to spy for them; even Natasha cluing her in that Varys was one of the good ones hadn't made Gwen feel any better. Lord Tyrell had huffed and puffed through his words and his mother had suggested she work through her grief by finding an outlet.
'If only she knew,' Gwen thought to herself, feeling the blood of the rapist she'd taken down still sticking to her knuckles.
Honestly it had been refreshing when Lord Tyrion had come to her and said her father was a fool for saving him as he was clearly worth more than him. It had gotten a laugh out of Gwen and her thanks. And Lord Tywin had promised to see things done right by her.
But her father would always be a touchy subject.
But that wasn't why she remained tense.
"You don't think your dad would… hurt you, do you Miles?"
"…maybe?" he said softly and she drew him in closer, letting him rest his head on her shoulder. "You guys don't see how passionate he gets about the rule of law. When you run into him he's just my goofy dad who is coming up with all these new ways to improve the Gold Cloaks. The parchment books and graphite. Getting new restraints they can carry with them. The slow push into Flea Bottom. But he knows… he knows who he is, Gwen. Who we are." He waved his hand along his body. "Everyone in Westeros looks at us and just sees exotic creatures that they can gawk at. They think Lord Tywin made him Lord Commander just because he wanted to have something different."
Not someone. Something.
Gwen didn't know if she wanted to cry and snap some necks.
"When its just me and him and my mom… he talks about how he needs to keep control of everything. Dominate the city. Make sure that nothing happens he doesn't know about. And… and he's talking about the Spiders." He swallowed. "He's brought it up a couple of times… that we are making him look bad. Catching criminals and being all flashy about it. If he knew it was me…"
"He'd be proud," Gwen assured him. "I promise you that, Miles. He would be proud."
"Yeah," he said, not believing her in the slightest.
"And you don't have to worry about him doing anything to us," she told him. "He wouldn't dare go against the Hand of the King and Jon has our back." He had told them that he knew he couldn't stop them from patrolling but he had requirements. They could only go out for a few hours, had to let him know their patrol routes so that he or Natasha could find them if they went missing, and come to them if they were injured. In exchange Jon would make sure the Small Council didn't spend much time thinking about them.
"But I don't want Jon to have to protect us," Miles said in a small voice. "I don't want us to need to be protected."
"Oh Miles…" she said gently. "I promise you… your dad loves you. Just like my dad loves me." Loves. Not loved. She was sure of that. Because if they could swing on webs and fight men with wings then the Seven Heavens WERE real and her father was up there watching her and cheering her on. "Just like May loves all of us. Just like Natasha tolerates all of us."
"Tolerates?" Miles asked.
"Oh, there is no way she loves us for all the crap we pull," Gwen said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Frankly I'm surprised she hasn't tried to hunt us for sport at this point. Would be the only way she'd find actual enjoyment in any of us."
"That is… scarily dark," Miles said slowly.
"Truth is the truth." She let him go and stretched. "Okay, so I'll take the Mud Gate then. And I'll do my best to avoid your dad." Gwen paused, smirking under her mask. "Now… let's say someone decided to, I don't know, prank him…"
"No."
"Come on, it wouldn't be that terrible."
"No."
"Some webbing that makes him trip!" she suggested. "Maybe a cowpie involved…"
"Gwen, what did we just talk about?"
"Natasha hunting us for sport?"
Miles groaned. "This is what Jon means when he says the three of us have one brain and have to share!"
"I still take offense to that," Gwen replied, stretching as she prepared to swing off. "Everyone knows that Petyr-"
"Keep in mind whatever joke you are about to make? It involves the man you are fucking. So that says just as much about you as it does him."
Gwen paused before lifting up her mask just enough to stick her tongue out at him.
Miles chuckled and moved to get up as well only for the both of them to freeze when they saw something go soaring up in the air, roughly 3 miles away. It hung in the air for a moment before there was a pop (not that they could actually hear it) and something flashed for just a second, like a candle suddenly appearing in a window.
The two shared a look and then another went up.
"That's near the Street of Steel," Miles whispered.
"Petyr's patrolling there," Gwen whispered and then she was leaping off the building, firing off a webline. The buildings raced past her, a blur of sharp stone and harsh edges, but Gwen didn't feel an ounce of fear that she might strike any of them. No… King's Landing was her city and she knew every bit of it. Her lithe body twisted to avoid an arch and then she was on a roof, running so fast her feet barely touched the stone surface before she was leaping again, this time using two weblines to slingshot herself forward.
She knew that her and Miles were going faster than anything else could in King's Landing. When they'd first gotten their powers Petyr had demanded they test their bodies, to determine just what they could do. Gwen could easily lift with a single hand an empty covered wagon. She could leap 3 stories from a standing position. She had the same speed as a horse, managing to stay with one at a full gallop. And a horse had to worry about corners and twists and turns. Gwen could soar through the air, easily swinging over anything and coming down right back on track.
Still, it took nearly 10 minutes to make it the three miles from where her and Miles had been chatting and where they had seen the glittering light. And the entire time she had feared what foe she might find Petyr trying to take on by himself. Because there was no doubt in her head that her lover would refuse to run if faced with someone that might be a threat to others. It was why she loved him. It was why she hated him.
And she REALLY hated him because she saw him standing on a roof, waving his arms wildly to get her attention.
"You bastard, I-"
"Shhh!" Petyr hissed, pressing a finger to his masked lip. "Come here… he's still inside." He moved towards the edge of a roof and after a moment Gwen joined him, Miles landing a moment later. "So you saw the beacon, right? Or whatever I'm going to call it, I'm still working on the name. I was inspired by that thing the Vulture and his men used to signal each other. A bunch of different powders that I wrap in my webbing… when they get shaken up too much they burst into flames. Very quick because I don't want to alert the people I am watching but I figured it would help us signal each other."
Miles tilted his head. "You didn't tell us about this because…"
"Still working on it," Petyr said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I want to try and change the colors, so I can signal each of you. Or maybe make a system where a color means a different thing? Red is rapist and blue is theft or-"
Gwen cut him off, knowing that if he were allowed to keep rambling he'd go on for hours. "What is going on?"
Petyr pointed down to a rather large building that sat across from them. "That's Tobho Mott's shop."
"…who?" Gwen asked.
"To… Tobho Mott."
"Again, I ask who?"
"Is my mask muffling my words?" he looked towards Miles. "I think it might be muffling my words. Tobho Mott."
"You can say that till King Tommen is an old man it doesn't change the fact I have no idea who the fuck that is!"
Petyr stared at her for several moments. "…really?"
"I'm leaving," Gwen stated, moving to stand up only for Petyr to grab her by the wrist and yank her back down.
"Listen… Tobho Mott is the best blacksmith in King's Landing. Everyone knows it. Ned Stark, John Arryn, Stannis Baratheon… they all visited his shop. Tywin Lannister went to see him about forging King Joffrey's wedding gift. Not the castle blacksmith. Tobho Mott."
"Okay…" Gwen said slowly.
"No no, you aren't getting it," Petyr complained. "Tobho Mott is one of the few people in Westeros who knows the secret of reforging Valyrian Steel and is the only one east of Harrenhall who has the knowledge. There are people who come from Essos to see him because they know he can do the work. And he's the best at it too. Apparently when you reforge Valyrian it can alter the appearance, make it lesser than its original form. And there is always the worry that a blacksmith will purposely make a sword thinner or smaller than it needs to be just so they can keep the extra bits of metal. There is a lot of money in Valyrian and even a bit the size of a silver stag could net you enough to buy a small keep. Especially if you find the right people to buy it."
"Right." Gwen was waiting for Petyr to get to the point, knowing that sometimes it took her lover some time to go from one point to the next. "Valyrian Steel. Very important. Very rare."
"Which is why it's a big deal that he currently has enough to make two swords in there," Petyr said, still looking down at the door.
"How do you know that?" Miles asked. "You didn't go in there, did you?"
"Of course not," Petyr said and it was just quick enough that Gwen knew it wasn't a lie. When Petyr tried to tell a fib, at least when he was being actually Petyr and not 'Spider-Man', he tended to stammer over his words, taking too long to get to the point and then rambling far too quick. But his denial in that moment had been quick. Instantaneous. Either he was learning or he was telling the truth.
'Not sure which is better,' she thought.
"I know because I looked over the manifests."
"Manifests?" Miles asked. "What Manifests?"
"Oh!" Petyr said with a grin. "That's the cool thing. See, when Lord Veleryon took over as Master of Ships he ordered that all ships arriving in and out of King's Landing provide detailed records of what is arriving in them along with all passengers. Apparently it was an idea that Lord Stannis had been trying to get through but King Robert wasn't really interested but Jon liked it because it helped them keep track of everything coming in and out of the city through the ports. Says he wants to eventually adopt it for certain gates that handle wagons and deliveries. He's worried about plagues and diseases and if we are able to follow movements then he can stop them before they spread. Which I personally think is great and I know Lord Varys is salivating at the thought-"
"Hold up," Miles said. "HOW did you get the manifests?"
"And why?" Gwen echoed.
"Uh, so we'd know what is coming in and out of the city." He shrugged. "I mean sure, the Vulture King is done and headed towards the Wall but it wasn't just him who was part of the gang that was attacking the Tyrell wagons. Some of the others might still be out there and we need to know what they have so we can prepare for another attack. And it's a good thing I did because I know that Tobho Mott-"
"Petyr," Gwen said, reaching out and grabbing his cheeks, forcing him to look at her. "HOW did you get the manifests?"
"I 'ought 'iles asked 'at," Petyr said, her squishing his face making his words muffled.
"And it was a good question to ask."
"Because its my turn to hold onto our brain," Miles said with a chuckle only to yelp when Gwen reached over and twisted his right nipple through his costume. "GAH! Why do girls like having that done."
"We don't!" Gwen snarled before glaring at Petyr. "Now then… sweetie. Baby. Love of my life. How did you get the manifests?"
"…I might have… helped Varys steal them?"
"Varys."
"Yeah?"
"Creepy kid toucher Varys."
"He didn't touch me."
"NOT THE POINT!" Gwen roared only for Petyr to shush her. "Oh shut up!" she snarled but in a lower tone. "What did Natasha tell us?"
Petyr frowned at that. "…is this about making sure we're careful when we have sex? Because I've been tracking things and you have another week before we have to resort to oral-"
"Not. That." Gwen said through clenched teeth.
"…you mean butt stuff?" Petyr said, disgusted. "Because I know you are curious but ew."
"I meant about Varys!"
"Doing butt stuff with Varys?"
Miles shrugged. "That does sound like something he'd be into."
"Natasha told you NEVER to work with Varys," Gwen growled.
"Oh, right." Petyr chuckled. "Its fine. Its more like he's working for me than me him. I'm the one who suggested we grab the manifests after he came to visit me and we got talking about ships and Namor and…" Petyr trailed off. "Oh. He tricked me didn't he?"
"Yes, yes he did," Gwen said softly.
Petyr shook his head rapidly. "Whatever, none of that matters. The point is that three days ago a representative of one of Lys' ruling council came with roughly 8 Valyrian Steel Daggers of various sizes. The representative, Ono Omo, which is just… a terrible name… his parents should be ashamed… has requested two swords made to honor the birth of his lord's twin sons. Tobho Mott has the daggers, no idea just what is going on with them at the moment as I obviously can't get in the building in order to see where they are in the forging but the point is that I saw some guy sneaking into the shop. Someone who I bet knows about the daggers and want them for themselves."
"You are sure it isn't one of the apprentices?" Gwen asked.
"Considering that he had to take a few moments to pick the lock? I'm sure. Plus real shifty, you'd know in a second that he was a thief just looking at him. Now," he rubbed his hands together, "I am thinking we set up a trap. I already webbed up the door so they couldn't escape back out through that. We sneak in-"
There was a rumble and the three of them looked down just in time to see the wall next to the door collapse, allowing a figure to casually slip out of the shop, stepping over the rubble like he was taking a stroll on a beach. There was a large sack flung across his back which he adjusted slightly before looking about, almost seeming disappointed that there was no one there to see what he had done.
"Or not," Petyr said.
"Admittedly if Gwen hadn't pestered you we might have had TIME to go with a plan," Miles said before leaping backwards off the building.
"Fuck you Kid Arachnid!"
"I'm Spider-Man!" Miles called out even as Gwen and Petyr dove after him.
"Not tonight you aren't!" Petyr shouted as they swung down, landing in front of the thief. He was a stocky man… tall but from a distance one wouldn't realize it thanks to his larger build. He was wearing a long dark coat that seemed to be about a size too big for him over some rather basic looking clothes, with honestly the only thing of real value that he had being the rather nice set of thick soled boots. Dark brown gloves covered his hands though one could be forgiven for not noticing those seeing as he had a pair of tinted lenses over his eyes, held tight to his skin by a series of straps that cut into the flesh.
"Ah… the Spiders. Hello there." He gave them a slight bow. "Out rather late as well, I see."
'I know that man,' Gwen thought to herself, trying to place him. 'But where? He's so familiar…'
"Well, you know," Petyr said with a shrug, "people to see, thieves to stop. You understand, of course."
"Of course, of course," the man said, shifting his bag a bit. "Well… I won't keep you." He walked right past them and Gwen was so flustered by how utterly casual the thief was that she didn't even think of trying to stop him. Luckily Petyr had his head on straight because he fired off a webline, cutting off the thief's path. "Please tell me we aren't going to do this."
"Sorry," Petyr said as he walked towards the man, "it's kind of our thing, you know? Stopping criminals and all that. And I'm willing to bet that you don't have toys for the needy in that bag of yours."
The thief chuckled, not bothering to turn around. "No… nothing like that. I suppose it would be a far better thing to carry around but I don't have those."
"I'm guessing you have something of the more pointy kind," Petyr continued.
The man reached up and tapped his nose. "You are very astute."
"I try," Petyr jested. "So… this the part where you tell me that the daggers actually belong to you and give some rambling speech about how we should let you go on your way."
"No," the thief replied. "I'm taking them because I want them."
"That's… admittedly refreshing," Petyr said, tilting his head. "But I can't let you take them so I'm going to stop you."
"Tell me," the thief stated, not sounding concerned in the slightest, "have you ever heard of the term 'Docktore'?"
"Can't say that I have," Petyr said slowly. Gwen didn't blame him as she was wondering where the hell this was all going herself. Usually thieves screamed curses at them, threw punches, or tried to bribe them. Engaging in polite small talk was a new one for the trio.
"It is a term from Essos. It is for a learned man who knows how to heal. I gained the title myself, in my travels, before I settled in the Westerlands."
Petyr was silent for a moment. "…well that's very lovely for you but I think its time we took back that sack." He reached for the bag.
And took it from the man's shoulders.
"Huh," Petyr said, looking inside. "All there. Uh… this is new for me so as long as you head out I guess you are… free to go?"
"He broke the wall," Miles pointed out.
"To be fair I did web it up so that's kind of on me." Petyr turned away from the strange thief and walked towards them.
And that's when the back of the thief's coat ripped open and a long gray tentacle burst out, wrapping around his middle and jerking him in the air. It was so quick that none of their spider senses had time to truly flare in warning. Gwen's eyes went wide as Petyr was shaken rather violently before being thrown at them, Gwen leaping and catching him while the tentacle snagged the bag and brought it back over to the thief.
He turned towards them, a polite smile still on his lips as a second tentacle emerged. Then a third. And a forth. The bottom two pressed down on the ground, the heavily muscular appendages able to easily lift him into the air so he towered over them, the first dropping the bag back down to his waiting arms before joining its brother in hovering menacingly above the thief.
"I am Docktore Octopus… but since that's a mouthful you can call me Doc Ock."
"Catchy," Miles said before launching himself at the thief, fist cocked back as he flew through the air. But the tentacles exploded into action, bashing Miles aside while another grabbing some of the broken stone from Tobho Mott's shop wall and threw it at Gwen, forcing her to dodge. "Ow," Miles moaned as he shook his head from where he'd landed. "Okay, which one of you angered an old wood witch so we had to deal with Half-Man Half Octopus!?"
Petyr, getting up from the ground, shook his head. "I know I didn't." He fired off a webline that struck Doc Ock but the man merely smirked before sending one of his tentacles right at Petyr, causing him to yelp and dive out of the way before he was struck by the overly muscular appendage. "I would remember if I mocked a wood witch!"
"Also is he really half?" Gwen called out as she teleported to a higher spot, trying to web up the man's head. But he spotted her at once and slammed a tentacle against the building she was on, Gwen just barely managing to avoid the strike. Which was good because when she looked at the stone he'd hit there was enough broken bits and cracks to let her know that it wouldn't be a fun time if she let herself get hit by such an attack. "I mean, it's just the tentacles, right? The rest of him looks human."
"We can't see his eyes," Miles said, rolling underneath Ock and firing some weblines, finally managing to connect with his legs. "Those could be octopussies!"
"I think there's a whore on the Silk Street named that," Petyr said.
"Oh really?" Gwen growled as she launched herself off the wall, spiraling through the air and landing on one of the tentacles. It was like walking on a massive fish; slick and slimy and constantly wriggling about, making it hard for her to keep her balance. She saw suckers on the end that she didn't want to let them anywhere near her. As such she began to fire out as much webbing as she could, trying to wrap the thing up in it and, hopefully, weight it down to slow down its strikes.
"I've heard! I've heard!" Petyr pleaded even as he moved to join Miles under Ock. But rather than attack the man's legs, which was Miles' focus as he tried to yank him down to the ground, Petyr focused on trying to pin down the tentacles that were on the stone.
Ock looked down at them and sighed. "You children…" he said before suddenly lashing out, flailing his extra limbs with no real rhyme or reason that Gwen could determine. Granted, part of that was because she was clinging to the tentacle she was on for dear life, praying that it wouldn't smash her into a wall as thrashed about madly. The world swirled around Gwen as she struggled to maintain her hold. She could hear Miles and Petyr shouting but she couldn't tell if they were trying to help her, struggling to avoid injury, or were in pain. Honestly it might have been all of those things.
There was a hard lurch that came suddenly and Gwen found herself soaring through the air, limbs reaching out for nothing until she hit the ground hard enough to leaving her gasping. She weakly rolled onto her side and saw Petyr lying near her, his ankle twisted in such a way that she knew they'd have to reset it, while Miles had ended up wrapped in his own webbing and stuck to a wall.
"Well, that was interesting," Doc Ock stated. "I would stick around but I have a busy day ahead of me. And I imagine you… youths… need to head home for bed." He gave them a cheery mock salute before he climbed up a wall, the last thing any of them saw of him being one of his tentacles wiggling as if he were waving goodbye.
Gwen grit her teeth and dragged herself towards Petyr. "Come on… come on Petyr. We have to get Miles and then get out of here."
"Yeah… yeah…" he got onto his hands and knees and Gwen fired some webbing around his twisted ankle, causing him to cry out in pain before dropping his head to press against the street. "Give me… a moment…" He panted before allowing Gwen to help him up, wrapping an arm around her and leaning on her. It made every inch of her scream in agony, as it felt like her entire body was just one massive bruise, but Gwen bit her lip and forced herself not to even whimper. If she did Petyr would demand she let him go.
"Okay, I'm going to say it," Miles said as they reached him and began to tear at the webbing that was wrapped around him. Luckily it wasn't a cocoon or the like, just a lot of sticky thick ropes that had lashed him to the wall, but it did require Gwen and Petyr pulling with all their might to rip them free of the stone. "What the fuck was that?"
"Trouble," Gwen muttered. "That… was trouble."
