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"Speech"
'Thoughts'
Writing/Singing
"Foreign Language/Flashback"
-Scene Shift-
Chapter 22: King's Landing
It had been a day since Roxas rejoined the caravan back to the capital and he was relatively alright to hear of what had happened since he was gone for two weeks-I mean days.
No. XIII still wasn't sure on how that exactly happened. Something not even Cloud could figure out.
Anyways, the caravan wasn't met with any Heartless since what occured at the Crossroads Inn. So that was good. The only downside which came up was learning that the Royal Family had left the Starks behind sometime prior to Roxas' return.
Reason why was partially because of how Roxas departed. It was sudden and no one knew where he went off to. Many thought Roxas was repeating Ventus' actions all those years ago. Ned defended the Keyblader saying he just needed space after what Cloud told him. And Ned promised Roxas would return, hopefully, by the time they reached the capital. It settled things, at first, but some small arguments came up sometime later which had soon resulted in Robert splitting the caravan up and going on ahead.
Robert and Ned were good friends, decent at best, but they obviously needed their space.
Presently, Roxas was on horseback as he rode on ahead of the wagon pulling Sansa, Arya and Septa Mordane with the whole pack of Stark men. And walking at a decent pace alongside them all was Cloud as many still wondered how he wasn't all that tired with the large Fusion sword hanging off his back.
"I still don't know why you don't want to ride a horse, Cloud." Ned said from his stallion.
"Not my thing." Cloud quickly said. "I'd rather ride one of my motorcycles. If not, then a Chocobo."
When Ned was given a proper introduction by Roxas on the other offworlder, it was a little refreshing to some degree on someone else who knows of the whole World Order. They haven't exactly talked much since the Twins, but that had to change when the caravan had to leave the Inn at the Crossroads. And most of the topics did have to be done in some sort of privacy with how sensitive subjects would surely be.
So far, as to what Ned knows, Cloud is considered to be a sellsword, a mercenary from where he comes from. Selling his sword, his services, to anyone willing to pay for his time and effort. Ned never really liked sellswords to begin with as they hardly had any honor to keep.
Cloud would earn some of Ned's trust because of Roxas and with Cloud having restraints on what he can and cannot do like stating he draws the line in harming innocents. That earned him a few points.
Another thing to note would be with Cloud feeling a bit more at ease after hearing of Roxas delivering details to this Restoration Committee of this other World so his friends could find a way to get here and return him home.
Ned soon wondered about something on what Cloud spoke of. "A motor… cycle? What's that?"
"A two wheeled vehicle like a wagon or carriage." Cloud began. "But this one is propelled by an engine as it can go a whole lot faster than anything you have in this World. Standard ones can even reach up to 250 miles per hour."
Ned could feel part of his mouth grow dry under part of the Southern heat. Such a machine could travel such a distance under such a time? If he never knew about other Worlds, then the Warden of the North would probably think of this motorcycle as a jestful fantasy.
"And a Choke-a-what?"
"A Chocobo." Cloud corrected. "It's a large bird… that you can ride like a horse. They come in different colors, other than the typical yellow. In some Worlds, they can be used in wartimes as there are various armors they can wear for protection and offensive capabilities."
From the way the sellsword was speaking, Cloud might have been a bit passionate about these Chocobo. Especially since considering how quiet the blonde swordsman is when actually bothering to describe the species beyond just calling them birds.
And honestly, Ned tried picturing such a creature. Even with Cloud riding it in the same image as it seemed quite ridiculous.
"And how fast can those go?"
Cloud pondered for some moments before pulling what he can remember. "Between 50-60 miles per hour being their fastest, average range. The golden ones can go faster by an additional 5-10 miles. And the ones in black, which I would prefer having the most, can actually fly; even with it's rider."
Now part of Ned's head seemed to sizzle a little before dropping it down a little. "That probably doesn't surprise me. There were once dragons in the World and the Starks have actual living direwolves in our care. And if it weren't for the creatures plaguing these lands, I honestly don't know what else I could accept."
"Quite a lot, actually." Commented the swordsman before taking a bit of a whiff and recoiled a little. "What the hell is that?"
Ned sniffed as well and held a little bit of disgust. "We're most certainly here."
Cloud openly grimaced. "Seriously? You're telling me that's Kings Landing? I can seriously smell shit five miles from where we're going."
"At least it beats the heightened one when it burns."
"...I don't want to think about that now." Said the swordsman as he looked on ahead to see Sansa, Arya, their direwolves and even Roxas doing their best to cover up their noses. "At least they have the right idea."
When rounding the corner on a hill, the Stark party was met with the sight of the Westerosi capital as it sat right next to the sea. On the land, there was the sea of tanned orange roofs, which were once red centuries ago as to somewhat symbolize the faded legacy this city once held. And from the skyline, one can be able to see the three dominant sites consisting of the Great Sept of Baelor on Visenya's Hill, the ruined Dragonpit on Rhaenys' Hill and the Red Keep on Aegon's Hill.
It was the most populated city of all of Westeros, yet the smell emanating from the place made everyone believe it was also the dirtiest. After all, the smell started hitting them miles away from the immediate area. King's Landing can probably be rivaled only by Oldtown, which is larger in area but less populous. Afterall, surrounding the walls were many shanty-like settlements for many poor smallfolk as there seemed to be hardly any room for residency for them past the walls.
King's Landing is met by several roads. The King's Road flowing from the Wall in the North to the Stormlands. The Gold Road coming in from the Westerlands and the Rose Road from the Reach. And upon reaching the end of the King's Road, the Stark party was soon met with the Gate of the Gods, one of seven entrances into the city.
"I'd expected there to be some sort of greeting or something." Roxas muttered out, loud enough for Ned and the others to pick up on as many smallfolk eyed them, whispered amongst themselves and pointed towards the Starks, Cloud and the Keybearer himself.
Pulling from Sora's memories, Roxas saw on Mulan's World, there was a grand welcoming of sorts for the Chinese Imperial army when they defeated the Hun Army. Granted there were survivors of the invaders before they attempted to properly capture and overthrow the emperor.
Roxas was probably using that "experience" as reference for what's happening now.
"There would normally be one at the end of war and times of successful conflict." Ned informed the Keybearer.
"There could've been one when the royal family arrived earlier and we missed out on the fun." Cloud sarcastically added in. "Wouldn't be surprised if there was one to boost Robert's ego."
This earned a nod from the Warden and Hand of the King.
"What I don't get is the smell. Why does this place smell so bad?" Roxas asked as they passed the gate as the smell seemed to get a little worse.
Sansa and Arya nodded, wondering about such a thing while Septa Mordane was reciting lines and prayers under her breath.
"Inadequate plumbing and clean water supplies." Ned quickly said. "King Jaehaerys had a sewage system made during his reign and it helped the city immensely. They were supposed to be maintained and cleaned up occasionally, but sadly overtime…"
"Yeah, we get the idea." Cloud simply said as the party trekked through the main street, passing through several squares left and right.
While the Stark girls eyed the new surroundings with mixed, curious interests; Roxas, Cloud and Ned saw more of the state the capital was as they were quite displeased in their own ways.
With Roxas, this was rather disheartening of seeing so many people in such conditions. When comparing this to the Worlds both he and Sora have been to, so far this part of it was the worst.
With Cloud, this wasn't the first time and surely won't be the last of him seeing slum-like environments. He can clearly attest to that with what he'd been through in his line of work. At least in the past handful of years, Cloud's been on a far better end due to the Committee giving a damn in cleaning up and properly maintaining Radiant Garden; even Traverse Town prior to retaking their homeworld.
For Ned, he generally felt bad for the city's populous. Seeing the level of poverty so far was rather atrocious for the Warden.
In the majority of the North, the line between the wealthy and poor are blurred. This was because of the reigning Houses contributing their care towards the populous so they may possibly survive another day. More so during times of Winter.
Same might not be said below the Neck as the lines are more defining and pronounced. Some Houses and regions flaunt their wealth while those working hard for a living aren't treated well. And Ned isn't an expert and utmost knowledgeable to be fully biased on said parties as there can be areas where they share the North's viewpoint and interest with the common folk while the rest are utterly ignorant.
This even made him wonder what was going wrong when Jon Arryn was the Hand. From what he knew, the Vale's Warden managed the Kingdom's duties quite well and it's going to be hard to match up towards his late foster guardian and predecessor. Yet for the life of him, Ned thought about what the man might've neglected to do in the capital.
The capital had to reflect the majority of the continent. If it looked this bad, Ned dreaded on what he might find out once starting his duties as Hand.
Passing by several more blocks and squares, the party was soon met with the impressive site at the end of the city. Where the dreary smells was soon replaced with the coastal one as it was a pleasant welcome to them all. And when seeing the Red Keep getting closer by horseback and wagon, each of them were able to get a better look of it.
Made of pale red stone in a classical style, the capital's central keep overlooks the mouth of the Blackwater River and Bay. There were seven massive drum-towers crowned with iron ramparts while massive curtain walls surrounded the grounds with imposing barbicans, nests and crenelations for archers. Thick stone parapets, some four feet high, protect the outer edge of the wall ramparts, where iron spikes were placed between the crenels at the gatehouse. The walls themselves have great bronze gates and portcullises with narrow postern doors nearby.
It was an impressive stronghold, within a stronghold of the city itself.
If enemies get past the city walls, they still need to face the uphill struggle of Aegon's Hill and no doubt a hail of arrows from the castle walls. Inside the curtain wall of the castle are the granary storehouses, wells and all manner of other essential, practical buildings.
The final place of refuge would be Maegor's Holdfast, a standalone structure within the castle with walls twelve feet thick and it's own dry moat. This is where the chambers of the royal family are and where a last stand would be taken against any invader being this castle was not a palace, but it is a palace. This is, after all, needed to help with the harsh realities of siege warfare.
There is everything needed for the creature comfort of the king and his court and for the management of the realm.
When Aegon the Conqueror and his sister wives launched their invasion from Dragonstone, this whole area was all but disputed land and ruins. But the three Targaryens found potential here, both as a defensible position and a geopolitically important location. So he built an earthen and wooden palisade on top of the highest hill that became known as Aegonfort; which was just a temporary structure.
Once the Conquest was completed, the recently made high-king had the capital placed on the mainland, surrounding the central keep while he began plans of construction of what would later be known as the Red Keep. Sad to say he wouldn't see the final product as his son, Maegor the Cruel, completes it with his own additions to his father's plans.
One such detail was having all sorts of secret rooms, chambers and passageways which only Maegor knew at the time after he had the construction workers killed. And to this day, some people have found a number of them, but believed there were more in some way. You'd just have to look hard enough and remember how to reach them.
There is a godswood with an actual weirwood tree within it, due to several factors; but kept regardless to help appease those descended of the First Men. There was a sept for the private use of the high folk and residents of the Red Keep if neither wanted to traverse to the Sept of Baelor. There was a rookery where the grand maester oversees communications across the Seven Kingdoms and a ballroom where the queen or whoever may entertain guests deep into the night.
And there were several towers, posing for several importances. The Tower of the Hand is where Ned and his daughters will be living for the foreseeable future as the Warden conducts his businesses there. The White Sword Tower is where the members of the Kingsguard conduct their meetings, keep their armory and sleep in their barracks.
"An impressive site to behold, right?"
Hearing Ned's question made Roxas briefly ponder. "True, but I've seen better. Winterfell is way better than this overcompensation."
Ned couldn't help but shake his head with a small smirk. Roxas's answer gave him a rare sense of pride, knowing the keybearer preferred his ancestral home over this bustling city. Something Ventus did as well.
"I agree with Roxas on the first part." Cloud said as he never saw Winterfell at all. The only keeps he'd seen so far were the Twins when he first came into this World, Harrenhal from the distance and some others along the way here.
Ned chuckled a little on the bit of praise. "I had similar thoughts when I first came here years ago. Sad to say I couldn't enjoy it better due to circumstances."
"With what happened at the end of the Rebellion?" Asked the blond swordsman.
Ned only nodded as the Stark party went through the keep's front gates and came into the main courtyard where the servants and courtiers were awaiting to help the final group of the caravan unpack.
Slowing their respective rides to a halt, Ned and Roxas dismounted for them as they and Cloud were soon met with a steward. The well-kept young man bowed to greet them. "Welcome Lord Stark. Grand Maester Pycelle has called a meeting of the Small Council. The honor of your presence is requested."
Roxas thought it was rather odd for such a meeting to occur right away instead of having some time to rest from the trip today. Cloud, otherwise, thought it was understandable what he knew of Ned Stark's new position; given the leading council of the continent was without the King and his Hand for months now.
For the new Hand, he didn't seem troubled at all with the request, glancing back to the wagon carrying his daughters with their caretaker. "Get the girls settled in, please. Hopefully I'll be back in time for supper, if not then by lunch." Septa Mordane nodded as Winterfell's Lord then spoke to Jory. "And Jory, go with them."
The captain of Winterfell's guard nodded. "Yes, my lord."
The Warden then eyed Vayon Poole, his own steward, as he soon came in on his own wagon with his daughter Jeyne. "Vayon, be sure the last of our party has come through the gates and help get them settled in."
"Right, my lord."
Ned's attention focused back to the Red Keep's steward, seemingly ready to be led inside of the keep after nearly two decades. However, the young man eyed the Stark's dirtied traveling clothes. "If you'd… like to change into something more appropriate…"
The Elder Stark merely gave the steward a very dry look which practically said 'No'. Ned was not one for formalities and formal wear. He rarely does the latter while the former is done when he's respecting someone who earned it.
The young man swallowed a small lump in his throat and gave a nod. "Very well, my lord. This way."
The wind gently bellowed in the courtyard as Ned followed after the steward while tugging off his leather gloves. Roxas and Cloud followed after the Warden and upon passing through the entrance, they eventually came to the great doors of the throne room with a pair of men in gold dyed armor guarding them.
When the steward was about to escort Ned even further, he noticed Roxas and Cloud tagging along. "Umm… May I ask for your companions to wait outside." The steward asked politely.
"Roxas here is to be of essential help in the city as I wish to properly introduce him to the council." Ned informed, drawing a curious look from the steward.
The steward then looked towards the swordsman with the Fusion Sword hanging off his back "And him?"
"The same."
Since Cloud was going to be here for the unforeseeable future, Ned wanted to make some use out of him; even if he'd have to pay for his services. Then again, Roxas said he'll provide the funds… somehow.
The young man nodded towards the guards, who'd pushed them open for the group.
When entering the Great Hall, they saw a long pathway with many pillars lined up along the way. There was some coloring added to the space, due to the stained glass windows to help brighten up the chamber to some degree. And the more prominent one was of a seven-pointed star with a blue rose in the center, overlooking a grotesque looking piece of furniture.
Both Roxas and Cloud heard stories of this seat, where all the kings, reagents and queens sat upon it for their time ruling the continent. Something that was supposed to have been made by thousands of swords, but that was an exaggeration as it seemed to be like a couple hundred at most. Smelted together by the work of Balerion the Black Dread's flames with a dozen smiths to hammer the blades into shape. Of course there were a whole lot of blades jetting out of the floor and the steps leading up to and connected towards the illustrious seat as it spread out accordingly. A means of making up for the lack of supposed height in terms of spread out to reach "everywhere".
It's a symbol where one should not get too comfortable with their given power, yet only a handful of people know of this while others ignore the fact altogether.
The Iron Throne.
It was at this moment something… strange happened in Roxas' vision.
Like staring into a computer monitor, his vision seemed to go into static as the chamber around him seemed to be replaced with something else. Not out of location, mind you, but with several additions like many dragon skulls filling up the room. The stained glass designs were different while appearing darker in nature. Even the lighting.
When looking at the Iron Throne and the steps leading up to it, there was an old man sprawling on the ground with blood pooling around him with another in the same position near a far off doorway. And seated on the throne itself was a young man in Kingsguard armor with a shocked, distant look on himself.
When Roxas rubbed his eyes as a small pain went through his head, he soon looked back and saw the dead bodies were… replaced with something… someone else. Instead of separated, there were forms lying before the throne, wrapped entirely in red cloaks with darker stains showing from the cloth. There was this sense of dread filling Roxas' chest. Anger was soon added into the mix as boisterous laughter rang through his ears.
When the static reappeared in his vision in an instant, Roxas saw everything return to normal.
'What… the hell was that?' Roxas thought in bewilderment as he felt his chest settle down before having to catch up to Ned and Cloud, who already walked on ahead.
Coming towards the room located on the left of the Iron Throne, they made their way inside and entered a private lavish chamber with Myrish carpets covering the floor instead of rushes. And in one corner had a hundred fabulous beasts covered in bright paints on a carved screen from the Summer Isles. The walls were hung with tapestries from Norvos, Qohor and Lys and a pair of Valyrian sphinxes flanked the door, eyes of polished garnet smoldering in black marble faces.
The Small Council chamber was of unique taste, one that neither Ned or Cloud could ever really like as it was too frivolous. Roxas, though, merely eyed the area before settling his gae at the group of people sitting and standing around the meeting table.
The first to greet them was a pleasantly plump bald man dressed in fine robes and had a small fragrance of perfumes. He gave a small smile towards Ned, holding out his hands to shake with the new Hand.
"Lord Varys." Ned greeted politely.
"We heard about the trouble on the King's Road. We all pray for Prince Joffery's full recovery."
"Of course." Ned muttered out, no doubt wanting to avoid the matter.
As part of Joffrey's punishment by the king, no Potions or Cure spells should be administered to the Crown Prince to quickly heal up the injury. A reminder for what tomfoolery the spoiled teen had done to deserve it. It would take a while for the arm to properly heal back up with what other ointments and salves the royal caravan had beforehand on their journey.
Ned soon broke contact with Varys as he soon greeted someone else present in the room. Varys, meanwhile, eyed the Hand's two companions with a curious, calculating gaze. "Cloud Strife and Roxas, I presume?"
"Hello." Roxas said simply.
Cloud, however, narrowed his eyes a little. "How'd you know of us?"
"As the Master of Whispers, it's my duty to know, Cloud." Varys remarked. "When such unique individuals could combat against the new threat in the realm, these Heartless, I needed to be informed. Your names are whispered amongst many, spreading like wildfire. As I've heard much of the illustrious Keybearer so far, you I know very little since your abrupt entrance at the Twins."
'Hope it can be kept that way.' Cloud thought while only nodding to the resident spymaster. The swordsman will no doubt need to be careful with what he'll say and possibly do in this city. He then shared a look with Roxas as he too will do the same thing.
The two offworlders then looked over to see Ned finish hugging no doubt the youngest member of the Small Council. "Cloud, Roxas, I'd like you to meet Renly Baratheon."
The two blondes can quickly see several resemblances with the introduced individual towards the king of Westeros. From the short black hair and beard and blue eyes on the family traits. Though it was from there did the comparisons really end as Renly was… much leaner and thinner than Robert. Asides from physical looks, he wore a green shirt underneath a black leather tunic with the Stag emblem pinned below his neck.
Roxas came up and held out his hand towards Robert's younger brother. "Hello there. Nice to meet you."
"Likewise." Renly greeted kindly as he shook the Keybearer's hand. "So I finally get to meet my future good-nephew as my brother has you betrothed to Myrcella."
"Yeah…" Roxas put that matter aside as he asked Renly a question. "Just asking this, but what position do you have here?"
"Master of Laws. I deal with interpreting the laws of the realm justly while administering justice."
"Sounds quite the position."
"It is." Renly then went to greet Cloud, who only gave a subtle nod.
"Don't mind him." Roxas said quickly. "Cloud's not very sociable."
"Understandable. Maybe more so with how tired you three are from the road." Renly said lightly. "I had wanted the others to postpone the meeting for tomorrow once you all settled in."
"But we have a kingdom to look after." A smooth voice said, belonging to a well-dressed man in black and brown leathers with a bird pin near his neck. His black and grey hair was quite short, much like his facial hair. And the man stood by his seat as he eyed the Warden. "I hoped to meet you for some time, Lord Stark. No doubt Lady Catelyn has mentioned me."
Ned looked at him, giving a small nod as he pulled out his chair. "She has, Lord Baelish. I understand you knew my brother Brandon as well."
Baelish chuckled while giving a small shrug. "All too well. I still carry a token of his esteem from navel to collarbone."
"That must've hurt a lot." Roxas muttered out, already having an idea of what injury the man got.
"Oh, it did." Baelish said, hearing Roxas' comment.
"Perhaps you chose the wrong man to duel with." Ned said lightly.
"Ah, but it wasn't the man that I chose, my Lord, it was Catelyn tully. A woman worth fighting for which I'm sure you'd agree."
Now Roxas started to remember who this man was. He was Petyr Baelish, lord of a minor house set in the Vale region called the Fingers. From what he learned in Catelyn's past, he became a ward to the Tully's when he was a child due to Catelyn's father being good friends with Petyr's. For years, Petyr grew up with Catelyn and her two siblings until he was… kicked out of Riverrun because of an embarrassing incident pertaining to a duel against Brandon Stark for Catelyn's hand in marriage.
From what he does know, Petyr was brought on by Jon Arryn to become Master of Coin, chief financier of the realm, some years ago by the insistence of the late Hand's wife, Lisa Tully-Arryn. And for years, he's been given the moniker "Littlefinger" from many as Petyr took it in stride.
Before anything else could be spoken, the old maester sitting nearby spoke up. "I humbly beg your pardon, Lord Stark."
Ned looked over and greeted him with a small smile. "Grand Maester Pycelle. You look well."
Pycelle gave a small smile back. "How many years has it been? You were a young man last we met."
"Aye and you served another king."
Pycelle glanced away slightly, seemingly nervous at the mention of that period of time Lord Stark was referencing. When he did, he eyed the Keybearer as a look of familiarity washed over him. "Ah, the Keybearer, yes?" Roxas nodded as the Grand Maester continued. "You do look very much like your father when I saw him last."
And back to this again.
Roxas had to repress an incoming sigh. Oh for every coin he'd get for hearing that every time…
Pycelle soon shifted his hands in his robes as realization hit him. "Oh, how forgetful of me." He soon took out a large metal pin shaped as a fist clenching a spike and handed it towards Lord Stark. "This belongs to you now." Ned soon examined the given pin. "Anyways, shouldn't we begin?"
When Ned went to attach the pin to his leather vest, he soon looked towards the other council members. "Without the king?"
"Winter may be coming, but I'm afraid the same cannot be said for my brother." Renly said as he and his fellow council members took their seats.
Cloud soon voiced an inquiry. "Any reason why?"
Varys was the one to answer. "His grace has many cares. He entrusts some small matters to us that we might lighten the load."
Cloud nodded in understanding. "As in he's lazy and doesn't want to attend these meetings at all."
The others in the room had their own reactions on Cloud's blunt statement. They know it's quite… rude to speak such things towards the king himself. Yet someone having the balls to bluntly state it within these halls out loud…
"If you want to put it like that, then yes."
The swordsman snorted a little, walking over to a nearby pillar and leaned against it with his arms crossed.
Ned sighed and was about to get the meeting started when he noticed something was… off within the chamber. "Asides from me, I count only you four. Where's-"
"Lord Stannis, our Master of Ships, is in Dragonstone." Said Varys. "Ser Barristan, however, is not a part of the Small Council."
This drew in looks of confusion from Ned and Roxas while Cloud wasn't entirely concerned.
"Any reason why?" Roxas inquired. "I thought the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard has a say here."
"Traditionally, yes." Renly sighed out. "Ser Barristan would be able to attend these meetings. Yet since he had been a Kingsguard member for the Mad King, my brother didn't like him to be included at all."
"That doesn't sound fair at all."
"We know, but it's hard to argue against the king's command. And Ser Barristan follows the commands quite seriously."
"And what of Stannis?" Inquired the Stark.
"The reason for my brother's departure is unknown to us." Renly said, scratching his thin beard. "He abruptly left the capital sometime after Robert left to retrieve you from Winterfell."
Ned wondered what could have caused such an abrupt departure. The Stannis Baratheon he knew would not just up and leave his post as Master of Ships vacant in such a manner. He was far to duty driven and honor-bound in committing to tasks bestowed upon him.
He will no doubt look into this matter later. For now, Ned has some things to discuss.
"Before we start with whatever you wish to speak to me about, I'd want to bring up the matter as to why I've brought Roxas and Cloud here." Ned stated to his fellow council members. "As you may know now, we are suffering from a threat from the Heartless."
"We have heard the rumors and tales."
"Most are true." Ned confirmed with a grim expression. "They had plagued the North for some time until the arrival of Roxas and soon after, Cloud here. When it comes down to it, if you need to know how to counter this growing threat you will find no greater warriors than the both of them."
"And no doubt Roxas being Ventus' son, he'd be of great importance to the realm." Pycelle said in a low, weak tone of voice. "Dealing with these monstrosities. I've gotten information from Maester Luwin from Winterfell and the Citadel so far on the basics and so far I feel quite the amount of dread on the information."
"Which is why I wish for him to help this city if there be any Heartless that'll appear within the borders." Ned looked towards Renly. "Asides from dealing with Heartless, Roxas can help you with whatever tasks you'd give him to be sure the capital remains safe."
The young Baratheon gave a firm nod to the Hand's request.
"And if you want, Pycelle, I can help provide you more information than what you don't already have. Highly doubt you got everything from just a small amount of rolled up parchments." Roxas said to the Grand Maester, who quickly accepted the offer.
"And what of him?" Littlefinger pointed towards the blonde swordsman over yonder.
"Yes, I was wondering why Cloud Strife is here with us." Pycelle voiced.
Ned gave his reason. "Cloud has a good amount of experience combating against the Heartless. More so than Roxas."
"Even so, an outsider like himself seems… unnatural to be a part of this Council meeting." Baelish drawled out, eyeing the swordsman who stared back at him
"Got a problem with that, creepshow?" Cloud asked with a challenging glare.
Renly had to withhold a snort as Littlefinger inhaled sharply as he sneered slightly.
There seemed to be some sort of feeling… vibe… something from Varys and Baelish were giving off respectively. While Cloud can already tell some level of caution from the spymaster, there was something unsettling with the Master of Coin. Something akin to a slithering snake.
"Cloud." Ned said firmly, the taller blond looking to the Warden who was shaking his head.
Sighing, Cloud relented and went back to leaning against the pillar he was on with his arms crossed and eyes closed.
"Now then, with that out of the way." Renly handed Ned a rolled up piece of parchment. "My brother instructs us to stage a tournament in honor of your appointment as Hand of the King in a few weeks."
"Mmm~ how much?" Littlefinger asked mildly, already having quill and paper out to write out the king's demands.
Ned soon read out the amount. "40,000 Gold Dragon to the champion, 20,000 to the runner up, another 20,000 for the winner of the melee and 10,000 to the winning archer."
"Can the treasury bear such expense?" Pycelle asked Baelish directly.
"I'll have to borrow it." Petyr stated. "The Lannisters will accommodate, I expect. We already owe Tywin three million gold, what's another 90,000?"
"Are you telling me the crown is three million in debt?" Ned asked in disbelief while Roxas and Cloud blinked on the very large amount.
"I'm telling you the crown is six million in debt." Baelish corrected casually.
"Then what of the other half?" Roxas quickly inquired.
"The rest is owed to the Iron Bank of Braavos."
Okay, now both outworlders could only pale on the given amount. While Cloud wasn't… too concerned as it wasn't his problem to deal with, Roxas felt a mighty weight on his shoulders.
Ned, however, felt himself sweat a bit more. If there was a threat more dangerous than owing something to Tywin Lannister, it would be towards the Iron Bank itself; the illustrious, infamous and most secure establishment in the World.
Anyone, whether of the rich or poor, a prince or king or an upstart merchant or tradesman; could ask for money from the Titans of Braavos. The request can be made and the person will receive the borrowed amount. After a certain point in time, the bankers will request for the money back with interest. If this is met, then good for both parties with reputations growing on better terms. If not, then the Titans will be sure they get their money back…
One way or another, the Iron Bank will have it's due.
So to not only hear the crown owes not only to the Great Lion of Casterly Rock, but also to the Titans of Braavos… If either were to call in the debt…
"Six million?!" Ned said aloud, looking at the other council members in utter shock. "How could you let this happen?"
"The Master of Coin finds the money, the King and the Hand spend it." Petyr said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
"The Iron Bank of Braavos would not stand for such a debt." Ned said with a firm hand lightly tapping the table. "And I refuse to believe Jon Arryn would allow Robert to bankrupt the crown and let the realm to fall into such debt."
"Lord Arryn gave wise and prudent advice." Pycelle cut in. "But I fear his Grace does not always listen."
"Counting Coppers,'' he calls it." Renly said with a shake of his head.
"But that's a lot of money." Roxas brought up. "Won't a tournament just make it worse than it already is?"
"Roxas is right." Ned nodded. "I shall not allow this farce of a tournament to go about. I'll speak with Robert on this matter tomorrow. This tournament is an extravagance we can ill afford."
"As you will, but we'd still make best our plans for it nonetheless." Baelish intervened.
"There shall be no plans until I have spoken with Robert." Ned said with finality.
The room was slightly uncomfortable now, more so for the lords of the council then for the two offworld warriors. The two of them understand where Ned was coming from and were more or less on his side. Yet it was clear that they were off-put by the Winter Lord's more stubborn answer. Something even he realized.
Head resting in his hands, Ned muttered out an apology. "I didn't mean to come across as rude, My Lords. I have had a long trip getting here and I am very tired."
"It's alright, Lord Stark." Varys placated. "You are the Lord's Hand and we serve at your pleasure."
"So what of the tournament then?" Renly inquired, looking to Ned for answers. "Shall we cancel it?"
"Cancel a tourney?" Baelish snorted. "You know much as anyone else Robert loves those to death. He'd have our hides for canceling it after sending out the open invite to the smallfolk to witness it and getting word from other Houses for some form of participation."
"Can I make a suggestion?" Cloud said, drawing the mild attention from the others present in the room. "Why can't the contestants go through an entrance fee to participate? Why not make them actually earn back what they paid for?"
"An entry fee?" Baelish said with clear intrigue.
"They signed up for it and paid to get in. Gives them a better incentive to fight." Cloud stated.
It is a little… refreshing, to say the least on hearing this detail. It was honestly odd no one in Westeros actually thought of this before. In all of the past tourneys, the lord and crown merely provided the funds to help take care of the participants through sponsorships. The only thing they didn't have to provide before was for their well being and equipment as the participants had to use what they currently had; unless they were quite generous.
After all, many of them were risking their lives on both the jousts and melee competitions. Archery, not at all.
"I'll be sure to figure out the costs for the entry fees." Baelish informed with a smirk on his face. "Will at least help lighten the load on loan I'll be requesting."
"Or none at all if you do it right." Cloud said evenly.
"That too."
"If that is all, then I'd like to call this a day." Ned said tiredly, no doubt wanting to rest at the Tower of the Hand.
The council members soon got up from their seats and went to vacate the chamber.
When Pycelle was about to leave, he soon remembered another thing in his possession. "Oh, yes, I've been meaning to give this to you." Pycelle handed over Ned a rolled up piece of parchment with the Stark emblem on the wax seal before making back to his chambers.
Curious, Ned broke the seal and unfurled it in order to read the contents. Soon enough, a noticeable sign of relief washed over the Warden.
"What's going on, Ned?" Roxas asked.
Ned gave the Keybearer a small smile. "Bran's awake and is in good condition."
Roxas had a beaming smile."Really? That's great!"
The Lord patted him on the shoulder. "It appears my debt to you only grows by the day, Roxas. Had it not been for your efforts, the Old Gods only knows how long it would have taken for my son to wake from his coma if at all."
Roxas only continued to smile bashfully, chuckling slightly as Ned ruffled his spiky hair for a moment.
"So do you need us anymore or…" Cloud drifted off, getting Ned's attention.
"Right." Ned ran his hand through his hair, releasing a stressful sigh. "Settle in, you two, and even explore the keep, I suppose. I, on the other hand, need to acquaint myself with my new workstation."
"Right." The mercenary drawled out. "Need to know where my living arrangements are anyways."
The trio soon vacated the small council chamber and went to their own devices. Ned went to the Tower of the Hand while the two offworlders headed elsewhere. At some point, the two blondes separated as they wanted to see things for themselves.
Roxas eyed the many corridors he traversed through in order to familiarize himself with the new environment. It'll take a while for him to possibly memorize if he didn't have a map or at least a directory to know which area was which.
This place was big, that was for sure. Then again… the castle doesn't hold a candle to the castle of The World That Never Was.
When he rounded the corner, Roxas almost ran into someone.
"Sorry." Roxas quickly said before seeing the person before him. "Oh, hey Jamie."
The Kingslayer looked at the Keybearer with an even look before shifting it.
"Ah, Roxas." Jamie said with a cocky smirk. "So good to see you. How are you adjusting to King's Landing?"
"It smells… like trash threw up and then ate it just to throw up again." Roxas said in a deadpan.
Jamie guffawed. "Yes, that is one way of putting it. It will take some time getting used to."
"No… No I don't think I ever will." Roxas admitted.
Smirking, Jamie only nodded. "Yes, to be truthful never have myself." He then gave a suggestion. "If it's too much for you, head towards the gardens. That'll help out as best as possible."
"Thanks, I'll take you up on that offer." Roxas said.
'Maybe I could get the Moogles to make something to repel the smell.' The Nobody mused internally.
"Perhaps you could have Myrcella show you the area." Jamie said. "She spends more time there than anyone else. Practically owns the gardens with everything she requests being planted there. Would be a proper gift to your intended"
"Right, my intended." Roxas said slowly.
"Don't tell me you don't enjoy her company." Jamie said with a narrowed glance.
"It's not that I don't." Roxas said, holding up his hands in a defensive manner. "It's just… Well, I dunno; it all happened so suddenly. Really had no time to think about it."
"You left for several days."
"Didn't feel like it." Roxas muttered under his breath. "I just needed time to be by myself to think things over without anyone breathing down my neck."
Jamie regarded the boy for a moment before shrugging. "I take it you've seen the Iron Throne already."
"Yeah, I did."
Jamie blinked at the rather plain response. He expected more out of the boy. "And? What do you make of it?
"Probably the most grotesque seat I've ever seen in my life."
Jamie stared, laughing aloud a moment later. "Yes, it is quite hideous when you really think of it. Aside from its appearance, it has the appeal so many yearn for."
"What would that be? Getting their bottoms, legs, arms and backs pricked by one of those swords?" Roxas dryly asked.
Jamie frowned thoughtfully. "Maegor the Cruel got cut a lot on the chair. Same like the Mad King."
"They weren't careful, then."
"Right you are."
The two were silent for some moments with some awkward feeling filling the air. Neither one knew what to say next or just move along.
The Mad King…" Roxas murmured, looking down. "What was he like?"
"What now?" Jamie was put off by the sudden question.
"You knew him, right? You were one of his Knigsguard." Roxas said. "I heard a lot about the guy but you were with him directly. Was he just that insane or was it entirely slander to just get back against him."
The Lannisters face momentarily hardened. "He was everything you heard him to be and more. Some of those stories don't do the madman justice."
"That bad huh?"
"Beyond that. And there's an irony to his madness." Jamie scoffed. "He wasn't all that bad, at first. Replaced older members of the court with fresher faces, all building a new, strong era of prosperity and peace." The Kingslayer released a sigh. "My father served as Hand at an early age and in turn boosted my family's rise to power after my grandfather's actions. Everything was good for years with hardly a problem at all under Aerys' reign."
"And during the Rebellion? Let alone leading up to it?"
Jamie shook his head. "I had never seen a more manic and insane individual. Anything and everything he did was completely unpredictable and terrifying. So many suffered under his rule. I lost count of the amount of people that..."
While Jamie continued speaking on the actions of the Mad King, an unusual feeling blanketed the Keybearer the longer he gazed at the Kingsguard member. His ears picked up on echoes of voices and sounds that at first seemed as though they were coming from the castle itself, yet it didn't feel like it.
No… No, there was a feeling of dread, disgusted, vile and unrepented anger and fury. Sorrow mixed with regret and a broken resolve that refused to fight for a lost cause.
It was the oddly quick feeling he had when he first gazed upon the Iron Throne earlier. It was coming back again, making him confused on where it came from and why so suddenly.
Before even realizing it-
"Why'd you do it?" Roxas abruptly asked, cutting off whatever it was Jamie was talking about.
"I beg your pardon?"
The younger blond looked straight at Jamie's eyes, unnerving him greatly with a feeling of a time he once went through in the past.
"Why did you kill him?" Roxas asked slowly, a memory that was not his own nor Sora's playing out in his mind. "Why did you kill the Mad King?"
To say that Jamie was shocked by this question would be an understatement. For the briefest of moments, his eyes widened as the scene before him changed slightly. He felt younger but far more tired.
Yet the face that was before him was the exact same one. Different clothing but same set of eyes, hair, everything. He paled slightly, shaking his head and returned back to his usual smarmy facade.
"Justice, I suppose." Jamie threw out. "Aerys killed so many people once he'd gone mad and I thought the opportunity presented itself."
"...You're lying."
"Pardon?"
"You're lying." Roxas said as this weird sensation took over once more. It felt natural, yet alien for him like what happened weeks ago when he first met Robert. It only helped convince him to know what's happening now.
Jamie scoffed. "What would you know about me lying? How would you know if I was lying to you?"
"Sad to say, I've been lied to all my life." Roxas refuted, gaze now bearing into the Lannister knight now unsettling him to a greater degree. "Why did you kill Aerys Targaryen?"
His heartbeat was starting to increase with his vision switching from the time before to the present moment.
This… this was too much and too sudden.
Shaking his head, Jamie quickly walked past the young Keybearer and walked in long strides to get as far away as he could from the boy as possible right now.
Rounding about the corner, Jamie noticed a nearby room that was empty and promptly entered while shutting the door behind him. It appeared to be a guest room as he saw a small bed in the center of the room with a cabinet with drawers and a mirror.
Setting aside his sword, Jamie sat upon the bed placing his temple upon a trembling hand. His breath was shaky as he rubbed his eyes trying to get that blasted memory out from his head.
That day where it all went to hell. The day where he upheld his oath as Knight of Kingsguard and utterly failed all the same. And Gods, the voices.
The voices were now attacking in full affect.
Slapping the sides of his head, Jamie flinched violently at the thought of it all. Looking up, Jamie gasped.
It was him.
"I know it's been bothering you, Jamie. Everyone calling you Kingslayer… Oathbreaker… A man without honor."
"You… are not real." Jamie shook his head violently.
"Uh huh. That's what you keep telling yourself." The Figment's tone and expression showed how little he believed him right now.
Jamie clenched his eyes tightly, trying to will himself out of this state right now.
"Come on, Jamie, aren't we friends? Why did you do it? You wouldn't kill your king without a very good reason."
"You're just a figment of my imagination." Jamie muttered out. "Perhaps the Summer heat is finally getting to me while wearing this blasted armor. Or better yet some food not digesting right affecting my mind."
The "figment" pressed on, responding in a different manner not at all aligned with how Jamie was reacting right now.
"What do you mean he wanted to burn it all?"
Jamie's eyes glazed over, his face ghostly pale as he regarded the figment. "Tell me, do you know of wildfire?" He remembered asking that question years ago.
The figment scratched the top of his head. "Yeah, it's this green substance that once lit is practically impossible to quench. Not even water can snuff it out. Can possibly last for days depending on the dosage."
"Then that'll quicken things up." Jamie muttered at the imaginary figure. "You should know that Aerys was obsessed with it. Mad fucker loved to watch people burn, the way their skin blackened and blistered and melted off their bones. He burned lords he didn't like. He burned Hands who disobeyed him. He burned anyone who was against him. Anytime anyone spoke up in defence, they were burned too as everyone in the court, both lords and ladies and kingsguard were forced to watch."
The figment shifted about nervously at the mention of the death committed by the Mad King via Wildfire.
"Wha-What does that have to do with this?"
"EVERYTHING!" Jamie bellowed out, shooting up from the bed only to find… no one was there. "I stopped Rossart from carrying out Aerys' final orders to light up this damn city like a bonfire. I stopped Aerys from telling the guards outside. I-"
He looked around wildly for him. Where was he? He was here, he saw him! Panting now, Jamie collapsed back onto the bed.
What in the seven hells had come over him. There was nobody there.
Then why? Seven Hells and all the Old Gods and New, why did he still hear him?
"Then why, Jamie? Why?"
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, he felt his eyes become wet. "I… I didn't want to see anymore suffer by his hands." Jamie confessed. "I saw too many innocent people die by his fucking obsession. Friends I made, gone. What few people I had grown close to outside of the Kingsguard. I… I just couldn't take it anymore. And I didn't want to see the rest of King's Landing die because Aerys was too much of a demented and petty man to admit defeat."
Jamie growled out loud. "And of course, your precious friend wouldn't give me a damn chance to properly tell the truth on what was about to happen to them all. One look at what I've done, I was quickly labeled to what I am today."
He sat there, head resting in his hands while shaking uncontrollably. He got no response. Nothing. All he heard was the ambient silence.
"Ventus." He muttered to himself. "I'm sorry old friend."
After what felt like hours, Jamie vacated the guest room in order to be sure no one questioned where he was at for so long.
Placing his helmet on, it was the only thing that could hide his face right now because quite frankly he couldn't bear to have anyone look him directly in the eye.
-Later, with Arya-
Trudging through the halls of the Red Keep, Arya was accompanied with Nymeria by her side. Several servants moved away from them in the process, no doubt worried they'd be harmed by the direwolf.
Arya can possibly understand a little as no one really had ever seen a beast so large as Nymeria this far down South. A regular hound or dog, yes. A direwolf, much less a regular wolf, no. The North had gotten more accustomed to them a great deal quicker though it would appear that the South will be a different story.
Currently, she's been exploring the new place she'll be living in for gods knows how long. It could maybe a year or two at most, possibly less. And right now, she wanted to at least know the place after getting her living quarters set up just the way she liked it.
Hopefully Septa Mordane won't mess up the place like back in Winterfell.
So far in her exploration, the young She-wolf saw the large gardens for a while. It was nice exploring the place as she kept catching herself sniffing through the pretty flowers. Nymeria as well, but she had to stop her from marking her territory.
Well, not out in the open at least.
Honestly with how ghastly the smell in the city was, a Direwolf pissing may improve the smell.
Afterwards, she checked out the training grounds as she'll no doubt want to try and practice her sword skills. She may or may not receive some questionable glares from many knights and servants. What woman would even want to be a fighter anyways in the South?
If she were in Dorne, she'd be happily received on being a fighter. Even some parts in the North such as Bear Island.
Many areas she and Nymeria traversed through and after so long, her belly rumbled a little. And telling by the looks on her loyal direwolf, Arya can tell Nymeria was getting hungry as well.
After asking a passing servant, Arya was directed towards the dining hall… or at least one of them. Hopefully the one she was going to would have the assembly of Stark men presently eating there.
Now that she thought about it, they would all be there during supper. She wouldn't really know if it was for lunch or breakfast. Any other meal would be at their respective quarters if not at the dining hall. Possibly out in the city if any wanted to.
Eventually getting to the dining hall, she had recognized a number of Stark men eating whatever they got their hands on. There were some chickens and pork served with mugs of ale and water while their swords were strapped towards their chairs or still by their waists.
Walking in between the tables, she smiled at the Northerners who smiled back at her with a few ruffling her hair. It was rather refreshing to be regarded in this manner. It was the closest feeling she had to home at times when not using needle or spending time with Nymeria.
When walking through the area to find an available seat, she soon spotted her sister and Jeyne as they sat together with Septa Mordane. And Lady was lying beside her human companion with bowls of chopped up meat and water in the other.
She was about to move elsewhere, but the old hag spotted her. "Ah, Arya." Spoke the Septa. "Good that you are here."
Knowing the annoying septa for so long, she'll no doubt make the young She-wolf join them. Releasing a small groan, Arya soon came up to take her seat with Nymeria joining Lady.
Judging by the older direwolf no longer eating, Nymeria dug into the bowls with Lady paying no mind.
"Where have you been all day, young lady?" Septa Mordane questioned as Arya sat down next to Sansa.
"Exploring." Said the younger Stark girl. "I am going to be living here for some time. Have to know my way around."
"Jeyne and I were about to do the same later." Sansa said with Jeyne nodding in confirmation. "Need to walk off the delicious food."
"Tastes much better than what we had back in Winterfell." Said the Poole girl. "Sorry to the cooks back home, by the way."
Normally, Arya awaited Mordane to say something to disapprove of these actions but she strangely did not. As a matter of fact, Mordane hasn't complained about much to begin with since they had come to the Capital.
A servant soon came over and gave Arya a basic plate of meat and bread before leaving to take care of some of the other occupants in the room. After all, the present room can fit a thousand as they sat within the 200 tables sprawled about.
Arya soon heard a screech of wood echoing not far away. Looking over, she saw Jory get up onto his feet as he greeted her father. In response, many Stark men stopped eating and looked towards their Siege Lord.
"My Lord." Said the captain of the Stark guards.
"Be seated." Spoke the Warden. "I see you've started without me. Glad to see there are some men with some sense in this city."
The others soon resumed eating their meal as Ned soon came towards their table and sat down. A plate was already placed before him with a small nod of gratitude towards the servant.
"There's talk in the keep of there being a tourney, my Lord." Jory said as he dug back into his meal. "They say that knights will come from all over the realm to joust, fight and feast on your appointment as Hand of the King."
Arya seemed quite excited on hearing this detail. And it seemed Sansa and Jeyne shared the same feeling. It would be the first they'll ever see in their lives. Seeing so many compete for glory and earning songs for their accomplishments.
Ned only frowned at the mention of the tournament. He always detested tournaments. Playing war, as he always believed, the same as his father and his father before him.
"Do they also say it's the last thing in the world I would have wanted?"
"Will we be able to go, father?" Sansa inquired.
"You know my feelings on tourneys, Sansa." Stated their father. "But yes… there will be a tourney as I must arrange Robert's games, pretending to enjoy them while attending."
"Please father, can we go?" Arya now stared up at her father with a pleading look.
"This doesn't mean I'll be subjecting you or your sister to this folly."
Before either Stark girl could speak up, Septa Mordane beat them to the punch. "Princess Myrcella and her brothers will be there, my Lord. All the lords and ladies of the court and in attendance in the city will be expected to attend on the tourney in your honor. It would be strange if your family did not attend."
"See father." Arya was now beaming, actually happy for the Septa's presence for once. "We don't need to go, we have to go."
Ned gazed at his youngest daughter and felt a wave of nostalgia wash over him. Oh how much like Lyanna she was. And how much he knew he could never deny her, same as her late Aunt.
"I suppose so. I shall arrange a place for you both."
Both Stark girls beamed at their father.
"Do you think Roxas will attend? Maybe even take part?" Jeyne asked.
Ned hummed in thought.
"I honestly don't know. We had just learned of this earlier today."
"Then do you think he'd take part of the joust, father?" Asked Sansa, thinking of him riding a steed and winning the tourney much like how his father, Ventus, did nearly twenty years ago.
"Afraid not for he doesn't have experience in such a thing."
"That's a shame." Arya frowned, grinning a moment later. "Maybe he can participate in the melee!"
The elder Stark angled his head, thinking over that prospect.
"Mayhaps, though even that seems unlikely."
"Why is that?" Arya asked
He soon snorted. "No doubt he'd probably win that one, if he decided to participate. And he does share a great deal of similarities with his father, Ventus. Yet I don't feel him to be the type to participate in such matters."
"And what of Cloud?" Jeyne asked thoughtfully.
"What of that ruffian?" Septa Mordane questioned, taking a sip of water.
Arya eyed the old hag as she knows she doesn't like the blonde swordsman. The Septa didn't like Cloud's personality and quickly solidified her displeasure. Also didn't help with Arya seemingly idolizing him to some degree with him taking no shits from her.
"That is no way to talk to an individual who has aided in our travels and is a capable warrior of fending off those beasts of darkness, the Heartless." Ned said in a sharp tone that threw the Septa of for a moment.
"I-I, forgive me my Lord." Mordane said humbly. "It is just… is he not a sellsword? Is he not doing this for a more selfish means of gain?"
"It's more complicated than that simple matter, Mordane." Ned stated. "Something I find that many seem to fail to understand."
Arya held a smug look at the properly chastised Septa, quickly finishing her meal a moment later before departing. Nymeria had run ahead, knowing where she was headed off to.
It didn't take long for Arya to eventually arrive at her new destination. Stepping inside her room, she sighed in relief at being alone again.
Once shutting the door to her new bedchambers for the unforeseeable future, Arya soon locked it. Turning around, she saw Nymeria lying by the bed with a curious look on her amber eyes.
Paying not much mind, Arya went to her chest and pulled out Needle. After giving it a little inspection once drawing the blade from the sheath, she placed it on the bed. She then went to the far side of the room before staring right into the sword.
With her hand stretched out, she focused on the blade and imagined it in her hand. In several seconds, Needle shook a little as it seemed to flicker. She gritted her teeth, struggling to make it appear in her grasp. After a full minute, the sword appeared into her grasp as she released a series of pants in order to fill her lungs with fresh air.
It's been taking a while for her to make this happen after Roxas showed her this skill. So far it's working, but it's been quite the struggle and taking far longer than the intended time. Instead of a second or less, it's taking a minute or longer. And that's just with her seeing Needle before her while no doubt longer without it within her presence.
She remembered Roxas promising her that once she mastered it, she would never struggle in calling upon her weapon ever again. Which is why she was determined to master this ability as quickly as she can. She did not want what happened near Ruby Ford to happen ever again.
Soon a rapping came upon her chamber door. Before having the chance to put Needle away, she saw her father stepping in.
Before Ned could say anything on what was presently on his mind, it was quickly replaced with an inquiry. "Whose sword is that?"
"Mine." She said quickly.
Ned eyed the blade and spoke softly with an outstretched hand. "May I?"
Arya hesitantly gave Needle to her father as he soon inspected the blade. "A Braavosi blade." He muttered before spotting something by the guard. "I know this maker's mark. This is Mikken's work." The father soon looked towards his youngest daughter. "Where'd you get this?"
Arya shuffled on her feet before giving her answer. "Jon gave it to me."
Ned's gaze softened on hearing this. He knew how much Arya missed Jon. This sword was practically the last thing she has of him as he's at the Wall by now. Not knowing when they'll see each other next.
Looking back at the blade, he did a double take upon gazing at the rippling pattern on the blade.
For all his time knowing Mikken, Ned knew the smither had no knowledge in reforging Valyrian steel; let alone making it. If he had any of that infamous steel or earlier knowledge, the Warden and everyone else would be hearing his small bits of boastfulness.
Inspecting it a little more, Ned soon realized the colorations were off from what he typically knows for Valyrian steel. The blade wasn't dyed at all, given his fair share of seeing such blades in the past two wars he participated in. Some people claimed they had such "magical" swords, only to realize they were fake after he broke them in half with his ancestral greatsword, Ice.
He wondered how Mikken was able to make this happen. Making a blade which looks like Valyrian steel, but not at the same time.
"Are you sure Jon gave this to you?"
Arya nodded. "I'm most certainly sure. Gave it to me personally. Was supposed to be my birthday present from him and Roxas."
"Roxas? What do you mean by that?"
"He… helped Mikken make it."
"Of course he would." Ned muttered, running his hand over the blade. "This is no toy, Arya. Little ladies shouldn't play with swords."
"I wasn't playing." Said the young She-wolf. "And I don't want to be a lady."
Ned had a small smirk on his face, knowing his second daughter was so much like Lyanna that it was scary. "Now what do you want with this…"
"It's called Needle."
"Oh? A blade with a name. And who were you going to thread your Needle with? Your sister?"
"No, I wouldn't." She clarified.
"Good." Ned turned Needle around in his grasp as he sat down on her bed. "Do you know the first thing about sword fighting?"
"Stick them with the pointy end."
Ned chuckled a little. "That's the essence of it, I suppose."
"But I have been learning."
"From who?"
"Roxas and Jon."
This was quite surprising to learn of this detail. "Have they now? And for how long?"
"Months now." Was her response. "Roxas more than Jon."
"I see."
He was most certainly going to be having words with Roxas later, no doubt.
"I have been practicing when I can." Admitted the young Stark girl. "And I had asked Mycah to practice with me by the Crossroads Inn when Roxas was too busy. I asked him and he almost died because of it."
Ned released a sigh, knowing about that particular issue. Before turning in for the night after that quick trial in Robert's tent, Ned went to talk with the traveling butcher to see if his son was alright. He was quick to learn that Mycah was a shivering, frightened mess all because the Hound almost ran him down with his sword. The butcher would've been grieving that night if it weren't for Cloud's intervention and saving the butcher's boy from certain death.
Ned could see the bits of distress overcoming her. He soon brought her close. "No, my sweet girl. It wasn't your fault. And he was saved."
Arya wasn't feeling any better from hearing these words coming from her father. "I hate them." She muttered. "I hate all of them. The Hound, the queen, the king and Joffrey."
"You were brought before the king and queen. You told the truth and so did your sister when asked to call the prince a liar."
"But Joffrey is a liar. He wanted to put the blame on us and the queen almost had Nymeria killed."
"And Joffrey was punished for his actions." Ned looked at her straight in the eyes. "Sansa will be married to Joffrey someday. When that happens, she cannot betray him. She must take his side even when he's wrong."
"But how can you let her marry someone like him?"
Ned gritted his teeth as she looked away. He wanted to tell her the truth that he'd been fighting tooth and nail to break off that arrangement. Same with Roxas with Myrcella, even if that one seemed far better than the former. If he did, then it would make Arya feel worse on the issue, which in turn makes Sansa feel the same way. After all, it would be bound to reach his eldest daughter's ear after revealing this.
"Arya, look at me." She looked back towards her father on the request. "I wish you wouldn't be burdened with all this. But you're a Stark of Winterfell. You know our words."
"Winter is Coming."
"You were born in the long summer. You've never known anything else. But Winter is truly coming. When the snow falls and the white wind blows, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives. If you must hate, hate those who truly do us harm. And in the winter, we must protect ourselves, look after one another. So you will need your sister as she will need you."
Arya slowly nodded. "I know, father."
"I don't want to frighten you, but I won't lie to you either. We've come to a dangerous place. The willfulness, the running off, the angry words… I know you want to stay a child forever, but it's time to start growing up. All right?"
Arya nodded as her father handed back her sword. "I can keep it?"
"It was your birthday present." He said as she smiled. "Do try not to stab anyone by accident with it."
"I won't."
Ned saw the little look in her eye, soon releasing a sigh of annoyance. "And don't try to intentionally stab Joffrey."
Arya said nothing, trying to look innocent, despite clearly showing that was her intention.
-The Dothraki Sea-
Travelling atop a horse was certainly a task she was beginning to enjoy more and more as time went on.
Her steed held a shade of a brilliant brownish gold that was similar to her best friend. She couldn't help herself when she named her stallion Rox. It felt like a part of her friend would always be with her.
Xion had been traversing across the great Dothraki Sea with her friend Daenerys Targaryen with the khalasar of the famed Khal Drogo. By her side was Dany and her new sworn sword, Jorah Mormont. Sure it appears he's Viserys' sworn sword, but Xion has a feeling he's swaying towards the other Targaryen sibling as of late.
"Do the Dothraki buy their slaves?" Dany questioned.
"The Dothraki don't believe in money." Came Jorah's response. "Most of their slaves were given to them as gifts."
"From whom?" Asked Xion.
"If you rule a city and you see the horde approaching, you have two choices: pay tribute or fight. An easy choice for most."
"That's quite unsettling, but sadly understandable." Said the Keybearer.
"Of course, sometimes it's not enough. Sometimes a Khal feels insulted by the number of slaves he's given. He might think the men too weak and women too ugly. Sometimes a Khal decides his riders haven't had a good fight in months and need the practice."
This wasn't good to hear at all for the two teenage girls. And Xion seemed partially glad she's somewhat helping on that last detail with the Heartless patrols she and other Dothraki take part in. At least that action saits their battlelust.
Dany and Xion were brought out of their thoughts when they saw one of the dothraki riders whip one of the nearby slaves. They didn't know if it was because the slave was being too slow to keep up with the khalasar train or just for the hell of it.
Having enough, Dany spoke. "Tell them all to stop."
Jorah looked at the Targaryen with a questioning look. "You want the entire horde to stop?"
"For how long, Dany?" Xion asked her friend. She didn't ask about the earlier question, knowing Dany needed to be away from this, even for a little while.
"Until I command otherwise."
Jorah and Xion looked at Dany as they seemed a little impressed.
"You are learning to talk like a queen."
"Not a queen, Ser Jorah. A Khaleesi."
She did not wait for Jorah or Xion to give out the order to the rest of the khalasaar as she hopped off her horse and walked on foot into the nearby forestation. She needed to stretch her legs with her feeling nothing for some time now.
Brushing past the thin trees, which seemed to belong with the Dothraki grass, the Targaryen girl smelled the rich air carrying the scents of the earth. It was starting to become pleasant for her as of late. And she could even smell the oil in her hair which was not originally there months ago.
After trudging along for some minutes, she stopped in a small clearing and wanted a bit of time to herself to clear out her thoughts. Wanting a personal point in time for some peace and quiet.
Yet this would not be given to her as sounds of metal hitting wood reached her ears as something was quickly approaching her. It wasn't long before she soon saw her brother charging at her as he commanded his steed to move against the growth around them.
"YOU DARE!" He bellowed with a furious look on his face. "You give commands to me? To me?"
Seriously, what was his deal? All she wanted was to give the khalasar a little break from her little request. And yet her brother seems to complain about stopping all of a sudden?
Then again, this was her brother.
Before she could act, her brother leapt off his steed and marched towards her with his drawn sword aimed at her. He then grasped her neck and snarled to her face. "You do not command the dragon. I am Lord of the Seven Kingdoms. I don't take orders from savages or their sluts. Do you hear me?"
'You sure act like one.' Dany internally thought to herself as he seems to act more like a deranged dog rather than a dragon.
In many times in her life, she had never defied him. Never fought back for real. But that was before Xion came into her life and made her become someone other than the weak girl from before. Slowly making her stronger with just her friendly presence alone.
Before she knew it, Dany did the unthinkable… by kneeing him in the groin.
"AHHH!" Viserys grunted out, unclasping the hand around her as he stepped back. He snarled on the act and was about to act in retaliation. No doubt wanting to harm her for what she did.
But that wouldn't happen now as their ears were met with the sound of a whip cracking. A moment later, a leather whip coiled around Viserys' neck, yanking him off his feet and making him fall into the ground.
Dany looked up and saw Rakharo wielding the whip as he spoke in the Dothraki tongue. And soon after, she saw Xion coming towards her with a concerned look on her face.
"You alright, Dany?"
"I am, Xion." Said the khaleesi, rubbing her neck a little. "What did Rakharo say?"
The Keybearer looked back and saw the dothraki speak again. Soon Xion translated as best as she could. "He said something along the lines of him killing your brother." She paused, scrunching her face a little. "And asking if that should happen or not."
The younger Targaryen towered over her whimpering brother who gazed up at her with trembling eyes.
"Can you please tell him, if you can, not to kill him."
Xion did that as she was requested in the roughest form of Dothraki she could say. It was choppy, but the Keybearer was getting there.
Rakharo soon responded back, which Xion translated once more. "Then do you want him to take an ear to teach a lesson?"
Dany shook her head. "I don't want him harmed."
Xion translated back to the dothraki, earning a questioning look on his face. It was at this point did Jorah come onto the scene, wondering what was going on but got all the information he needed with what he's witnessing.
"Tell him I don't want my brother harmed. But take his horse away and let him walk. Let everyone see him as he is."
Xion was about to speak but Jorah quickly did so. Xion let out a sigh of relief as she still needed the practice in no longer speaking the language in a choppy manner.
Rakharo soon complied, uncoiling his whip around Viserys' neck, making him quickly gasp for air. And the first thing the Beggar Prince said upon gaining freedom was this.
"Mormont! Kill these Dothraki dogs!"
"Viserys, read the mood right now." Xion groaned out.
"SHUT UP!" Viserys screeched out. "I'LL GU-"
A shadow was cast over him with the Beggar King gazing up at his sister with her face exemplifying the title of her birth; Stormborn.
"That is enough out of you, brother." Daenerys said in a cold tone. "You could've stayed back in Pentos, but you chose to stay with us. So now you need to know your manners with these people now."
From the sideline, Xion smirked a little, feeling proud of her friend right now.
"Shall we return to the khalasar, Khaleesi?" Jorah asked.
Dany faced her friend Xion with a growing smile.
"Yes, Ser Jorah. Let us return."
Dany went off with Xion walking beside her to get back to their horses with Jorah following not far behind.
Viserys was about to reach his horse when Rakharo quickly snatched the reins and had the Beggar King's horse move along.
"You heard sister." Rakharo said in broken basic. "You, walk."
Hours later into the day, the khalasaar stopped and made camp for the day with everything seemingly normal as usual. Going out for patrols, helping clean and get the meals ready for the evening, so on and so forth.
As night fell upon the land, Xion was eating her dinner beside Jorah and Rakharo while Dany sat not far away. They were having some light conversations at the moment inside of the one tent they currently shared this evening.
Dany was unusually silent, gazing at her food untouched with an intense look in her eyes. A look Xion noticed.
"Dany?" Xion spoke up.
"Hmmm?" Dany looked up from her meal.
She had opened her mouth to say something but found herself falling silent a moment later. Wordlessly, she reached out to her and grabbed her hand and squeezed it softly. Daenerys onlys smiled appreciatively, turning her hand around and squeezing her friend's hand in turn.
On his lap, Jorah was inspecting Rakharo's arakh as he was answering some questions the dothraki had for him. "For a rider on horseback, a curved blade is easier to handle." He handed the weapon back to its owner. "It's a good weapon for a Dothrakan," the Mormont then motioned his hand over his chest, "but a man in full plate- shori tawakof… the arakh won't get through the steel. That is where the broadsword has the advantage." He unsheathed his sword and had the tip of his blade placed into his palm. "Designed for piercing plate."
Rakharo eyed the weapon before voicing his thoughts in dothraki. "Dothraki don't wear steel dresses."
"Armor." Jorah corrected.
"Armor," Rakharo said before continuing in broken basic, "make a man… vroz?"
"Slow, which is true. But it keeps a man alive."
Rakharo then looked towards Xion. "Xion, what of you?"
Xion looked over with a questioning look. "Huh?"
"What you think of armor?"
"It's fine and all, but not really for me."
Rakharo grinned approvingly before gazing at her black cloak.
"Yet you wear… that."
"It works fine for me and comes quite handy. Protects me quite well from weapons."
Which was true. In the time that she had spent with the Dothraki, nobody had ever seen her change out of it nor see it get dirty or even damaged. It was a truly special coak it seemed.
The dothraki soon went back to his native tongue. "My father taught me how to fight. He taught me that speed beats size."
Xion, catching onto most of the words, responded back in the same language and still choppy at best. "That's true, given the opponent."
Looking over, Dany could feel a little jealous of Xion speaking Dothraki a bit better than herself. But wasn't really complaining as she still has loads of time to learn now.
Yet there seemed to be something else she was feeling right now and it wasn't pleasant.
"I heard that your father was a famous warrior." Jorah said in dothraki.
"He was a bloodrider to Khal Bharbo." Rakharo said proudly. "And your father, Jorah the Andal? He was a warrior also?"
Jorah held a somber expression. One of guilt, remorse and of longing. "He still is. A man of great honor… and I betrayed him."
Rakharo wondered what he meant by that. Knowing the details, Xion was going to hopefully explain when she noticed Dany was looking… rather queasy.
"Dany? Are you alright?"
The Targaryen was about to answer when she threw up. She coughed several times, expelling the bile from her mouth as Xion quickly came to her side.
"Hey, easy there." Xion then looked over to the two men in the tent. "Get me some water please." She looked back and casted Cure, hoping nothing bad was happening to her friend.
"Khaleesi." Jorah said in concern, quickly handing over a waterskin.
"Are you alright, Khaleesi?" Rakharo asked.
"No." Dany admitted, face pale even with the cure spell washing over her. "I feel sick."
"Was it the food?"
"I don't know? I just need to lie down."
They brought her back to her tent soon after as a medical woman went in to check on Dany. Some of the Khalasaar were concerned about what was going on. Some were quickly blaming the person who made the meal earlier. Even Khal Drogo was outside of the tent as well out of concern, ready to come to his wife's side when everything was fine.
It wasn't long before the medical woman came out, making Xion quickly asking the question on everyone's mind. "What's going on? Is she alright?"
"The Khaleesi will be alright. Nothing to worry about." These words made many let out a sigh of relief, no, excitement. "But there is something you all must know?"
"...Which is?"
"She hasn't bled in nearly two months and her belly has started to swell. For she is with child."
-End Chapter-
AN:
Been a while since getting this out, due to work being a pain as usual. Hopefully I can get another one out quicker due to this weekend being a holiday and not having work on Monday.
FMW: Yeah, work fucking drains us more than ever now. It's been a bit difficult to be honest trying to get days to write but we will try our damndest to get out enough as possible without burning ourselves out.
Jeb: Now these next several chapters… well they'll be somewhat diverting from canon but expanding with what we planned and they'll no doubt make y'all happy with who and what will be done.
Anyways, be sure to review this story guys! Would like the criticisms. Please and thank you!
R&R