Dragonstone, 294 AL.
Alexios.
"There are impressive women. But they are few and far apart. Most are worse than useless - counterproductive." Captain Alexios Andreios.
Captain Alexios Andreios.
The visit to the island fortress of Dragonstone had mostly been arranged by the Equites and the wife of Prince Stannis Baratheon, Selyse Baratheon née Florent, and the whole affair was mostly them cooing over the five-year old Shireen Baratheon and playing games with the tatooed madman fool called Patchface. The wife of the elder brother of the King was a dutiful woman, and it seemed like economy and other similar matters befell her, while the Prince commanded the royal fleet as Master of Ships. He was standing on top of one of the towers studying the fleet manouvre in the choppy waters below.
"You seem interested in our fleet." a voice called out behind him. He had heard the steps - normal ones, not skulking or forcefully marching, which had led him to believe there were little hostile intent. He turned around to meet the blue-eyed gaze of Prince Stannis himself.
"It is a well-drilled formation, Prince Stannis." he replied with a short, but not unpolite bow.
"Sycophants would say so." the Prince replied with a scowl, which seemed to be the only face he ever made, apart from his normal teeth-clenched, thin-lipped resoluteness.
"I am no sycophant." he replied, without cracking even a hint of a smile.
"So they say." the Prince replied and joined him watching a squadron of galleys form a battleline and then turning, in formation, forcing the outmost galleys to travel at the highest speed to keep formation.
"I can see why you could smash the Ironborn fleet. Formation warfare at sea brought more experienced but undisciplined raiders low." he said. The Prince raised an eyebrow but was silent for several seconds, seemingly waiting for more flatter. None was forthcoming, as he was studying the ships manouvre. After a while, the Prince seemed convinced that he was serious and not just a sycophant.
"The men did their duty." the Prince finally replied.
"And you did yours." he said, shrugged a bit and turned to walk down the tower as the Prince slowly and solemny nodded.
"I heard you watched the garrison drill yesterday." the Prince finally spoke.
"I did." he replied.
"I have also heard that you train men hard and well, with unorthodox methods." the Prince continued.
"Unorthodox to your standards, Prince Stannis." he replied with a nod. "Simply effective by mine."
The Prince nodded, again slowly and solemnly. "And what is your opinion on my men?"
He stopped, thought for a few seconds and then finally replied. "The best I have seen on this continent. They understand discipline and fighting in formation. They could use more stamina and training on how to disrupt enemy formations, but they got a good head start on most if not all so-called soldiers I have seen so far in these Seven Kingdoms." he replied.
Again, the Prince nodded slowly and solemnly. The Prince was a serious and dour man without much of charisma, but he was an accomplished commander both on sea and land, that much was evident. He knew the difference between enthusiasm and discipline, and which would win when food and fodder ran low, when weather soaked the backs of the men and the enemy was hounding you in a long and bleak retreat. Prince Stannis Baratheon was a man of his own mold, and had he not been a high-ranking man, he might have made a move. As with the King, the risk was a bit too high. This society was not as advanced when it came to understanding that a man would always be superior in satisfying another man compared to a woman, inherited in a better understanding of the male body and what made it tick.
He left the Prince on top of the tower after excusing himself with a short phrase and stepped down into the castle with the intention of finding the Equites and see if there was something for him to do. The idleness was wearing on him, and he could feel his mood worsening as he stepped by the multitude of useless dragon figures that had been built into walls, crenelations and defence works. Useless shit the lot of it.
Unfortunately, someone esle found him before he could find something to do.
"Captain Andreios!" came a invitingly soft call from deeper within one of the corridors. He stopped and bowed politerly, if not very deep.
"Priestess Melisandre of Asshai." he replied, but remained standing where he was, forcing her to come to him in the more well-lit corridor where he was standing. The red woman arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow, but did join him.
"I have been meaning to speak to you, Captain." she said with a stunning smile filled with pearl-white teeth in straight rows.
"Very well." he replied, positioning himself at ease with his hands behind his back, as if he was awaiting instructions from a superior officer.
She looked a bit surprised. "Most men would appreciate my attention, you know." she said with another smile, and perhaps a hint of something suggestive in her tone.
"I suppose." he replied without pushing the issue further. "What did you wish to speak to me about?"
She seemed to change her stance a bit and moved a bit closer, as if to pursue a more discrete conversation.
"I see things." she said and fized his gaze with her own.
"I assumeit is beyond what normal looking yields?" he said, confidently meeting her gaze without faltering.
"It is indeed. You are a perceptive man, Captain Andreios." she said, licking her lips and moving a further bit closer. He did not move at all. 'Perceptive?' Hah. Flattering, and not very good such either. He remained quiet, forcing her to press the issue after a few moments of silence.
"The Lord of Light have granted me the ability to see things in the fire." she said, her voice and tone adding a degree of mysticism and revelation to those words. She was good at that, he had to admit. She could probably be very convincing if she put her mind to it.
"And you need to speak to me about this?" he asked, perhaps with just a tiny hint of sarcasm. She seemed nonplussed by this, or brushed it aside.
"I have seen you in the fire. You carry a secret." she said, giving him a knowing nod, as if they shared this great secret and he could trust her.
"All men carry secrets." he replied, non-comittantly.
"The night is dark and full of terrors. You are dark and full of terrors. I have seen it. Tell me your secret." she said, in a manner that was a mix of begging, promising rewards and an order. She was very good at this, he noted.
"No." he replied.
"Yes." she said softly, almost whispering, leaning ever so close.
"No." he said. She raised her eyebrows a little and leaned even more closely. He could smell her perfume - a decent one, as far as I he would know (which was very little) and something else. Her skin smelled... invitingly. He had a hard time describing it.
"Yes." she said again, leaning in closer, placing her bosom not far from his face. "I would be... most grateful if you did... Captain." she said, with a voice thick of promises and innuendo. the very air smelled of it.
"You could make me grateful." he replied, his gaze still fixed to hers and not diverting down to the skin bared just below.
"How?" she whispered.
"You could get those lumps of lard out of my face." he said, acknowleding her ample and supple bosom for the first time in the conversation with a short nod.
She looked a mix between insulted and surprised. "You are making a mistake, Captain." she said, low, almost purring now.
"If I wanted soft lard and lack of hair, I'd go bugger the fat young son of a sweet baker." he said, low, almost growling, matching her tone but with more force.
"You are making a powerful enemy today, Captain." she said and straightened her back, adding a bit of distance between their faces again.
"No." he replied.
"What?" she said, with insulted taking predominance over surprised in her face.
"I said no. You are not powerful. You simply insert yourself among powerful men and have them do your bidding. With varying degree of success." he stated, dryli.
The priestess scowled at the insult and raised a hand. "You will tell me what I want to know, or you will face pain." she proclaimed. He simply scowled through thick and stiff scars, while she made a gesture, made it again, and a third time, more forcefully, the red gemstone in the necklace round her nack seemingly flashing, her face contorting in a mix of concentration and frustration, being replaced with despair and surprise.
"I guess we are done. My regards, Priestess Melisandre." he said, bowed stiffly and set off down the corridor, only to be stopped by her placing a hand on his large lamellar shoulder protection.
"What are you!?" she shrieked. He grabbed her wrist forcefully, to a pained yelp.
"Condottieri Captain Alexios Andreios. If you touch me again, I will knock you down." he let go of the arm and then started down the corridor again, with a shouted "You will tell me what you are!" to his back.
He suspected that they would leave sooner rather than later now. Good. The idleness was chafing and obviously wearing on his temper. He stopped, bowed towards a dark niche between two ridicolous dragon-shaped pillars and greeted. "Lady Selyse Baratheon." to a gasp from the darkness. Then he continued his march though the castle.
Note: Images by my good friend John.