The Blue-Eyed Storm King

by champblaze

When he was born, a storm signaled his birth, but he was born the second son, the spare and he will grow into someone King worthy. Caster Baratheon will go by many names but his most famous will be The Blue-Eyed Storm King. OC Trueborn Son of Cersei and Robert. Timelines will be messed with. Cross posted on AO3

10. Chapter 9

AN-1: Hello Good people and here we are with another chapter as Caster continues his travels and prepares to head back to Tyrosh, eventually Westeros and the storm going on over there. Thank you to the few supporting this story and the reviewers like X313Santos and here you go. Juliaimon77 Thank you buy you're a bot or so artist fishing. Mr E Guest, Caster will find out when he returns but will seek out Dorne to aid him in Tyrosh as a favor to the Archon. Grantcourtney, Thank you but I think you're an artist fishing. Anyway here we go continuing Caster's journey.

"Speaking"

[..Pause ...Long Pause]

Disclaimer: I Own Nothing

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Chapter 9

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In volantis the streets were alive with the bustle of commerce and the chatter of a thousand tongues. Amidst the throng is the striking pair of caster and tyene while drawing curious glances from passersby. Four months ago he had been fighting the golden company in a valley several days from here with the news reaching volantis, further spreading the legend of the storm lion and his second sons. The surviving golden company soldiers were absorbed in his group and increasing his numbers to make them the strongest mercenary company in essos. He and commanders were in volantis to recoup their losses from the Battle of Second and Gold as many call it now. His fallen soldiers were honored with large pyres, even harry, griff and young griff were given proper respect as one leader to another.

"You know.. I think I could get used to this city.. The food.. The wine and the company..." caster said, his voice low and playful while squeezing tyene's arm gently, earning a soft laugh from her.

"Oh.. And here I thought you were eager to return to Tyrosh and maybe Westeros" tyene teases lightly, her fingers tracing patterns on his arm.

"True enough my love.. But for now we have work to do here" caster says, his expression sobering slightly. Jon walks with measured steps a few paces behind them as his arm rests casually on the hilt of blackfyre and many recognize the quality while the pommel is changed to a direwolf. They turn a corner into a less crowded street but a flash of red caught jon's eye. A woman in flowing crimson robes has begun to follow them with her gaze fixed intently on caster and tyene or just caster. Her hair is as red as her robes and her eyes seem to glow with an inner fire. Jon quickens his pace slightly and moving closer to caster, "Caster.. We're being followed.. A red priestess by the look of her" jon said in a low voice. Caster's posture stiffened almost imperceptibly, "Well now.. Isn't that interesting.. Let's see what she wants shall we" he whispers but his easy smile remained in place. He slows his pace to allow the red priestess to draw nearer and as she approaches, her lips curved into a knowing smile.

"Caster Baratheon.. The Lord of Light has shown me your coming" the woman says, her voice rich and melodious.

"Has he now.. And what else has your Lord shown you" caster says while turning to her, his eyebrow raised in curiosity.

"I have seen you in the flames Storm Lion.. You who will shake the foundations of the world and bring dawn after the longest night" the priestess says, her eyes seeming to burn even brighter as she gazes at him. Tyene's grip on caster's arm tightens slightly while jon is ready draw blackfyre if needed but caster remains relaxed, his blue eyes studying the red priestess with interest.

"That's quite a prophecy.. But I'm afraid you might have the wrong man.. I'm just a simple sellsword trying to make his way in the world" caster said, his voice tinged with amusement.

"No Caster Baratheon.. You are far more than that.. The Lord of Light has great plans for you" the priestess says with a shake of her head, her red hair catching the light like flames. Caster's eyes narrow slightly with a mixture of curiosity and caution flickering across his face. He glances around the bustling street, noting the curious glances from passersby and with a subtle nod to jon and tyene, turns back to the red priestess.

"Perhaps… We should discuss this somewhere more... Private.. These matters seem too important for casual street conversation don't you think" caster said, his voice low and measured.

"Of course.. Follow me" the priestess says, her lips curving into a knowing smile. She turns and begins to weave her way through the crowd, her crimson robes billowing behind her like a trail of fire as caster, tyene and jon following but their senses on high alert. The priestess leads them down a series of winding streets, each one narrower and less crowded than the last but finally turns into a shadowy alley, tucked away between two crumbling buildings. The sounds of the bustling city seem muffled here as if they had stepped into another world.

"Well… We're away from prying eyes and ears.. What exactly does your Lord of Light have planned for me" caster said, leaning casually against the alley wall and his blue eyes fixed on the priestess.

"The Lord of Light has shown me visions of you Caster Baratheon.. Visions of a great battle to come.. Of darkness and light clashing on fields of ice" the priestess says, her eyes seeing to glow in the dim light of the alley.

"That's quite poetic.. But I'm afraid I don't put much stock in visions and prophecies.. I prefer to deal with the here and now" caster says, his expression a mixture of skepticism and intrigue.

"The here and now is shaped by forces beyond our understanding.. The Lord of Light has chosen you to play a crucial role in the wars to come.. You with the blood of the Stag.. The Lion and the power of Dragons at your command" the priestess says and steps, her voice dropping to a whisper.

"This Lord of Light seems to know All" tyene hisses, gripping caster's arm and her eyes narrowing.

"Indeed.. The Lord of Light reveals many things in the flames.. Including the Dragons that now answer to your Storm Lion" the priestess says while smiling enigmatically.

"You seem to know a great deal about me and my affairs.. But I'm still not convinced why I should care about your Lord's plans" caster says, his expression devoid of all his casual amusement. The priestess's eyes glow with an otherworldly intensity as she leans in closer to caster, "You Caster Baratheon.. Will be the Shield for He who is Promised" she said, her words carrying a weight that seemed to hang in the air between them. The silence in the alley but caster moves like a striking viper, his lashing out to wrap around the priestess' throat and slams her against the rough stone wall. The impact driving the air from her lungs with an audible whoosh and caster's face is mere inches from hers, "I told you.. I don't care for your Lord's plans" he says, his eyes blazing with a cold fury. The priestess gasp as her eyes were wide with shock and fear as her hands claw at caster's grip but he holds firm.

"Your prophecies.. Your visions.. They mean nothing to me.. I forge my own path priestess.. I am no one's shield but my own" caster continues, his voice low and dangerous. He loosens his grip slightly, allowing the priestess to draw in a ragged breath.

"The Lord of Light… He sees all Caster Baratheon.. You cannot escape your destiny" the priestess wheezes out, still defiant despite her precarious position. Caster's lips curl into a sardonic smile, "Watch me" he said, his voice dripping with disdain. He releases her abruptly while stepping back as she slumps against the wall, coughing and massaging her throat. Tyene moves to caster's side, her hand resting lightly on his arm and her eyes never leaving the priestess, watching for any sign of retaliation.

"Listen carefully.. If I see you or any of your red-robed friends following me again.. You'll find out just how unkind a lion can be when provoked" caster said, his voice now calm but no less threatening. The priestess straightens with her composure returning despite the angry red marks on her throat. Her eyes still burn with that eerie inner fire as she meets caster's gaze.

"You may deny it now Storm Lion but the time will come when you will embrace your role.. The Lord of Light's will cannot be denied" the priestess said, her voice hoarse but steady. Caster's jaw clenches with his patience clearly wearing thin, "We're done here… Let's go" he said flatly, jerking his head towards the alley's entrance.

"Remember my words Caster Baratheon.. When the darkness comes.. You will stand as the shield for he who is promised. It is written in the flames" the priestess calls out one last time as they move away. Caster didn't turn back with his stride purposeful as he leads his companions out of the alley but as they emerge back into the bustling streets of volantis. Tyene could feel the tension in his arm and the barely contained anger simmering just beneath the surface, "Are you alright" she asks softly, her fingers intertwining with his. Caster's expression softens slightly as he looks down at her, "I'm fine" he said, squeezing her hand gently.

"What do you think she meant… About being a shield for He who is Promised" jon asks, his voice low and moving closer to them.

"Who knows.. Probably just another ploy to manipulate me into someone else's game.. But I meant what I said.. I forge my own path and I'll be damned if I let some fire-worshipping fanatic dictate my future" caster says, shaking his head and a smile tugging at his lips. They make their way back through the crowded streets, "Let's find Daario.. I want to see if the recruiting has gone well" he said abruptly, his voice cutting through the ambient noise of the bustling volantene street.

"Eager to get back to work my Lion" tyene says with a raised eyebrow.

"You know me.. I'm always restless.. Besides I'd rather focus on building our forces than dwell on cryptic prophecies" caster says with a grin, some of his usual mischief returning to his face. They begin to make their way through the crowded streets to the harbor.

"Do you think Daario has been successful today" tyene asks, her voice low as they navigate through a particularly dense crowd of merchants and shoppers.

"I trust Daario's charm and our reputation to draw in some good men" caster says, his eyes scanning the faces around them for any sign of daario's flamboyant appearance. They turn a corner as the salty smell of the sea grows stronger while mingling with the exotic spices and incense that permeates the air of volantis.

"There" jon said, pointing towards a group of rough-looking men gathering near a weathered tavern. At their center and is gesticulating wildly with his characteristic flair is daario as caster's lips curve into a smile while they approach.

"Daario!.. How goes the recruiting?!" caster calls out, raising a hand in greeting. Daario turns at the sound of caster's voice with a wide grin spreading across his face.

"Storm!.. The recruiting goes well indeed.. I've found some good fighters.. Men who know their way around a blade and aren't afraid to use it" daario exclaims, clasping caster's forearm in a warrior's greeting.

"Excellent" caster says, his blue eyes scanning the group of rough-looking men gathered nearby.

"Oh but that's not all my friend.. I've also managed to find us some sailors.. And not just any sailors mind you" daario says, a mischievous glint in his eye as he turns and beckon to someone in the crowd. A moment later, A woman steps forward a moment later, her form lean and athletic with dark hair and eyes that seems to reflect the sea itself. Her leather is well-worn but well-maintained and speaking of a life spent on the waves.

"May I present... Yara Greyjoy" daario said with a flourish. Caster's eyebrows shoot up in surprise at the sight of the fierce ironborn of the iron islands, "Yara Greyjoy.. This is... unexpected" he said, inclining his head respectfully.

"Aye.. I imagine it would be.. But when I heard tales of a supposed Baratheon Prince making a name for himself across the Narrow Sea.. Well my curiosity got the better of me" yara says, her lips curving into a wry smile.

"And what brings an Ironborn Lady so far from home" tyene says, her dark eyes appraising yara with interest.

"I like to travel.. We Ironborn don't sow after all.. The whole world's our field to reap" yara said, her voice carrying the distinctive lilt of the iron islands. Caster raises an eyebrow with a mixture of amusement and curiosity playing across his features.

"That's quite a philosophy.. But I have to ask Greyjoy.. Will an Ironborn work with a Baratheon after what your father did and what mine did" caster remarks, his blue eyes studying yara intently and the atmosphere tenses noticeable at caster's word.

"Ah cutting right to the heart of it aren't you.. My father's choices were his own as are mine.. I'm here because I see an opportunity Baratheon.. The question is do you" yara said as her tone a mix of respect and challenge, "I have ships.. I have men who know how to use them.. You have an army and if the rumors are true.. Dragons.. Seems to me we could be of use to each other in the long run" she adds, her eyes never leaving his.

"Well Yara Greyjoy.. It seems we have much to discuss.. Perhaps over a drink.. I hear the ale in Volantis is almost as strong as what you brew on Pyke" caster says after a moment, his serious expression slipping into a grin and his blue eyes sparkling with that familiar mischief.

"Now that's a challenge I'm willing to accept Baratheon.. Lead the way" yara says with a clear and genuine laugh. They make their way towards a nearby tavern as tyene moves closer to caster, "Are you sure about this" she murmurs, her voice low enough that only he could hear.

"Not in the slightest.. But that's what makes it interesting doesn't it" caster whispers back, a hint of excitement in his voice. The smell of ale and roasted meat grows stronger as they approach. The establishment is dimly lit with rough wooden tables scattered about and a bar running along one wall. Caster leads them to a large table in the corner while gesturing for everyone to take a sea. Tyene sidles up next to her lion but caster notices yara's eyes lingering appreciatively over tyene's form and a smirks curves his lips.

"Ale for everyone" the barmaid asks, approaching their table.

"Aye.. And make it your strongest brew.. Let's see if Volantis can match the Iron Islands" yara replies before anyone else could speak. Caster's smirk widens into a full grin, "I like your style Greyjoy.. Though I warn you.. I've built up quite a tolerance over the past three years" he said, leaning back in his chair.

"Is that so?!.. Well we'll just have to put that to the test won't we Baratheon" yara says, her eyes sparkling with challenge. The barmaid returns with their drinks as caster notices yara's gaze once again drifting to tyene but this time is caught and gives the greyjoy a sly look.

"So Yara.. See anything you like" caster said, his voice light and teasing. Yara doesn't miss a beat as she reaches for her ale, "Plenty" she replies, her eyes flicking between caster and tyene.

"You're not so bad yourself Captain Greyjoy" tyene said, her voice low and sultry.

"Easy now ladies.. We've got business to discuss first" caster says and raises his mug, "To new alliances and interesting times ahead!" he adds, wrapping an arm around tyene's waist The group clink their mugs together as the tavern is filled with the sound of laughter and the promise of adventures to come. The time wears on as the ale flowed freely and the conversation grows more animated. Yara regales them with tales of her adventures on the high seas, while tyene shares a few stories of the hidden dangers in the deserts of dorne. Caster finds himself between the two women, their playful banter and flirtatious glances igniting a spark of excitement within him.

"I think… That we should continue this discussion somewhere more... Private" caster said, his voice slightly husky from the ale.

"Lead the way Storm Lion" yara says, her eyes gleaming with interest. The trio make their excuses to the others with daario giving caster a knowing look as they depart. The night air is cool against their flushed skin as they make their way through the streets of volantis, towards the encampment of caster's forces outside the city walls.

"I'd rather not walk all that distance after so much ale.. We need horse my lion" tyene says with gaze sweeping the darkened streets. They make their way to a nearby stable where caster negotiates with the keeper for two horses as he exchanges a handful of coins to lead the animals out into the street.

"Only two" yara asks with a raised eyebrow and a knowing smirk.

"I thought we might enjoy the company" caster says with a shrug, a mischievous glint in his blue eyes. Tyene mounts one horse with practiced grace while caster swings himself onto the second. He extends his hand to yara, who takes it with a grin and pulls herself up in front of him. Caster settles one arm around her waist to steady her, his other hand taking the reins.

"You ride well for a sea captain" caster remarks, his breath warm against her ear.

"The ironborn aren't just sailors Baratheon.. We raid.. We fight and we 'Ride' when needed" yara says with a sultry chuckle. They pass through the city gates and onto the open road as they pick up the pace but yara shifts slightly, taking caster's right hand from her waist and guiding it upward to her chest.

"Easy now" caster murmurs, though he makes no move to pull his hand away. Yara turns her head slightly and with deliberate slowness, moves his hand lower and past her stomach.

"No easy… I didn't sail across the Narrow Sea for 'easy' Baratheon" yara replies, her voice husky with desire. Tyene lets out a soft but sultry laugh, "She has you there my Lion Caster" she says and caster grins, pressing a kiss to yara's neck. The motion of the horse beneath them creates an intimate rhythm and caster feels his body responding to tara's warmth against him.

"You know.. After tonight.. You'll have quite the story to tell your grandchildren about the time you met the Storm Lion" caster murmurs against her ear, his voice low and playful. Yara continues guiding his hand deliberately between her leather-clad legs and pressing his palm firmly against her, "I don't think.. It'll be a story to tell children.. At least.. Not the version I'll remember" she replies, her voice husky and amused while her eyes hold his in challenge and hunger.

"I'll look forward to hearing your rendition" caster says as tyene soft laugh echoes. The remainder of their ride passes in charged silence, the anticipation building with every stride of their horses. They approach the camp with the sentries straightening and nodding respectfully but caster didn't miss the quickly hidden smirks on their faces. The night is clear and the stars bright overhead as they make their way through the rows of tents toward caster's larger pavilion. They pass by one of the smaller tents as mya pokes her head out and her blue eyes widen at the sight passing her. She ducks back into the tent where dagonet is polishing his greatsword by the light of a single candle.

"Dag.. My brother never stops" mya whispers with a barely suppressed laugh.

"He has wild blood like your father.. King Robert was the same in his youth.. They said he loved making the Eights" dagonet said, his voice a low rumble in the quiet tent. Mya fully turns back to him with mischievous grin spread across her face as she crawls back toward him across the furs.

"So do I" mya said, her voice carrying that same confidence that seems to run in the baratheon line. She leans in and presses her lips against his as her hand moves to the laces of his tunic. Caster continues leading yara toward his tent as his sister competes with him. Around a small campfire near the edge of the commander tents is missandei sits quietly beside grey worm, their faces illuminated by the dancing flames. The former slave translator looks up at the sound of approaching horses, her dark eyes widening slightly at the sight of caster, tyene and an unknown woman but she can see the heat in their eyes.

"The Storm Lion returns with a new ally" grey worm said, his voice low and matter-of-fact.

"Perhaps but It may be a more personal encounter.. He must be favored by the Gods or makes his own luck" missandei says, her gaze following them until they disappear among the tents.

"My people have a saying... 'The strongest current can change the course of mighty rivers'... Perhaps he is such a current" grey worm says, his expression remaining impassive but his eyes tracking the departure of the three figures. Missandei watches the embers of their fire dance upward to join the stars. She has seen many powerful men in her time but there is something about caster baratheon that seems to draw people into his orbit. Caster's tent is spacious and befitting his status as the leader of their growing army with plush carpets covering the ground and a large bed dominating one corner. Tyene immediately begins lighting candles and casting a warm glow over the interior as enter.

"Nice digs.. But I'm more interested in the company" Yara commented, her eyes roaming appreciatively over the furnishings before settling on caster and tyene.

"Well then Captain Greyjoy.. Why don't Properly welcome you" caster says with a grin and pulling tyene close to him. Yara steps forward with her eyes never leaving theirs as her fingers work at the fastenings of her coat. The leather garment fall open to reveal the simple tunic beneath but there is nothing hurried in her movements, each one deliberate as she shrugs the coat from her shoulders, letting it drop to the carpeted floor with a soft thud.

"I thought you'd never ask" yara said, her voice low and husky. Tyene circles behind caster with her slender fingers finding the clasps of his ornate coat. She balances on her toes to press a kiss to the nape of his neck as she eases the fabric from his shoulders.

"You won't be needing this anymore tonight" tyene whispers against his skin, her breath warm and enticing. Tyene works as yara's fingers move to the laces of her own tunic, loosening them with practiced efficiency and the fabric part to reveal skin marked with the faint lines of old battles. Caster's coat is already on the floor and he already has his tunic join it as the candlelight plays across the defined muscles of his chest and abdomen, illuminating several scars that marked his body.

"Battle trophies" yara asks, stepping close enough that he could feel the heat radiating from her body.

"Gifts from various warriors.. They didn't fare as well as I did" caster replies, his voice dropping lower as yara's fingertips brush lightly over the raised skin. Tyene moves around to face them both, her fingers finding the clasps of her own dress while maintaining eye contact with yara as she did so. The silk garment whispers as it slid down her body, pooling at her feet like spilled wine.

"Your turn" tyene challenges yara with a smile that is equal parts invitation and dare as caster removes his boots. The ironborn captain's eyes darken with desire as she takes in the sight before her before removing her loosened tunic over her head in one fluid motion, revealing a body honed by years at sea and battle.

"I think… That this alliance is off to an excellent start" caster said, his voice thick with anticipation as he reached for both women. Yara's lips curve into a hungry smile as she steps forward, pressing her body against his and her calloused hands slide up his chest.

"Sit" yara commands, her voice husky with desire and pushes him towards the bed. Caster obliges with a grin and lowers himself to the bed's edge, his eyes dark with want as he looks up at the two women standing before him. Tyene circles around behind yara with her slender fingers trailing over the ironborn captain's shoulders and down her arms.

"The sea and the sand make for interesting bedfellows" tyene murmurs, pressing her lips to the curve of yara's neck as caster pulls his breeches down. Yara turns her head slightly to catch tyene's mouth in a wanton kiss that makes caster's breath catch but when they break apart. Both women turn their attention to him and yara steps forward, placing her hands on his shoulders and straddles his lap while tyene removes yara's boots.

"Now.. Let's see if the Storm Lion lives up to his reputation" yara said, her eyes boring into his.

"You'll find out" caster says with a faint smile and her free hand reaches down to grasp his manhood. Yara lines him up with her sex and settles down onto him with a satisfied sigh, her strong thighs gripping his hips. Caster's hands find her waist to steady her as she begins to move and the rhythm she sets is deliberate while being unhurried, like the rolling of waves against the hull of a ship. Tyene moves behind yara with her skin glowing in the candlelight. She presses herself against yara's back, her hands sliding around to cup the ironborn woman's breasts. Yara's head falls back against tyene's shoulder, her eyes closing in pleasure as the dornishwoman's nimble fingers work their magic.

"You sail well Captain" tyene whispers, her lips finding the sensitive spot where yara's neck meets her shoulder and she sucks gently at first, then harder while marking the pale skin. Caster watches the sight before him with a smirk as yara moves atop him like she commands the seas themselves, while tyene's form presses against her back, hands caressing and lips exploring. His hands tighten on yara's hips as he thrusts upward to meet her movements, "Gods" he breathes out, the word barely audible over their mingled sounds of pleasure. Yara open her eyes while fixed him with that confident gaze that first caught his attention at the harbor, "No Gods here.. Just us" she said, her voice breaking slightly as tyene's teeth grazed her neck. The pace quickens as yara rides him with the same skill and confidence with which she commands her ships. Tyene's hands never stop moving, alternating between gentle caresses and firmer touches that draw gasps from the ironborn captain's lips. The three of them move together as if they'd done this a hundred times before, finding a rhythm that build steadily like a gathering storm. Every touch, every kiss, every movement bringing them closer to the edge of something magnificent and soon were laying tangled together as sweats cools on their skin.

"Well.. I'd say that's a fine way to seal an alliance" caster muses, his voice rough with satisfaction.

"If this is how you negotiate all your deals Baratheon.. I think we're going to get along just fine" yara says, propping herself up on one elbow and her hair delightfully mussed.

"Just wait until you see him in battle Yara.. He's even more impressive with a sword in his hand" tyene says with a small laugh, while nestled between them. They go for another round and soon drift off to sleep but caster is unaware his sisters wins her impromptu competition between them.

-XxX-

The next few weeks pass in a blur of activity as caster's forces grow to replace the losses as daario's recruitment efforts bear fruit. The taverns of volantis emptied of sellswords and adventurers seeking their fortune with the storm lion's second sons. Even yara's presence add legitimacy to their cause, drawing curious sailors who wished to see an ironborn captain so far from home. One evening has caster meeting his commanders in his tent with maps spread across a large wooden table, weighted down with daggers and cups of wine.

"We've lingered in Volantis long enough.. It's time we returned to tyrosh" caster announces, his finger tracing a path across the map.

"My ships can get you there faster than marching the entire army.. The seas are calm this time of year" yara says, studying the map with a practiced eye.

"An army our size.. We could follow by land along the coast.. Led by myself while you head ahead to smooth things with the Archon Storm" daario says after a generous sip of wine.

"And me.. I should remain with the main force with Dragons" daenerys adds, her violet eyes glinting in the candlelight. She has grown more confident in recent weeks, training daily with both sword, bow and dragon. Caster cups his chin in thought and debating daario's suggestion, "Agreed.. Daario.. You'll lead the main army along with Daenerys.. Grey Worm.. Arthur and Ashara.. The Dragons will travel with you.. They'll be less conspicuous over land than sea" caster says, his eyes meeting tyene's for a moment.

"And who accompanies you to Tyrosh" barristan asks, his face solemn in the flickering light.

"A smaller group.. Yourself.. Jon.. Tyene and her sisters.. Sylvie.. and Ulthor.. We'll take Yara's fleet and prepare the ground in Tyrosh.. The Archon and his Magisters will need reassurance that our growing force serves their interests as well as our own" caster replies and drinks some wine.

"In other words.. We need to charm the politicians while the soldiers march" obara says with a smirk, tapping her boot against the ground.

"Something like that.. Tyene and Nymeria excel at court games as do you in your own... Intimidating way" caster says with a chuckle, reaching for his wine cup. The following morning dawns clear and bright as the harbor of volantis is bustling with activity as yara's ships prepare to sail. Her flagship is the Black Wind and it stands proudly at the center of the fleet, its black sails rippling in the morning breeze. Caster is on the dock and embracing mya, "Be careful Little Brother" mya said, her voice muffled against his shoulder.

"Of course" caster says, holding her tight and savoring the brief moment of family connection as they pull back. A few paces away are jon and ygritte in a tight embrace, seemingly oblivious to the commotion around them with tormund jesting with caster. Ygritte presses gentle kisses to jon's face and lips, "Be careful Jon Snow.. Keep our King in line" she whispers, just loud enough for caster to overhear.

"Always.. I'll see you in Tyrosh" jon says softly, brushing a strand of hair from her face and she gives him one more lingering kiss. The sailors call out to each other as final preparations were made and yara's commanding voice rose above the din, ordering everyone to board. Caster gives a nod to his commanders before making his way toward the gangplank with jon close behind him. They soon set sail with the sea stretches before them, vast and unending, promising both danger and opportunity. The skies above were painted in shades of blue and white clouds of various shapes as the ships moves across the waters for tyrosh sun. The gentle rocking of their ship has become almost comforting to caster after so many days at sea, his nights spent in his cabin with tyene or both of them in yara's cabin. Caster stands at the bow with his hands gripping the railing as the salt spray mists his face. The journey to tyrosh has been largely uneventful and a welcome respite too see the ocean once more. He could hear the sailors going about their duties behind him, their voices carrying on the evening breeze.

"Thought I might find you here.. You've become quite the sailor.. Not seasick even once" yara says, her footsteps steady despite the ship's movement.

"I'm as surprised as you are.. Perhaps there's some Greyjoy blood in me" caster says, a faint smile on his face. Yara snorts while leaning against the railing beside him, "Don't let that go to your head Baratheon" she says, gazing out at the darkening horizon and they fall into companionable silence for a moment.

"You know.. I never thought I'd spend this much time away from the Iron Islands" yara says, her voice softer than usual.

"Do you miss it" caster asks, studying her profile. Yara's eyes remain fixed on the distant horizon, "Parts of it.. The smell of the sea.. The sound of the waves against the rocks" she said but pauses, "But I left because I couldn't handle my father's insanity anymore.. The way he looked at me as if I wasn't enough because because I don't have a Cock and Balls between my legs" she adds, her fingers drumming against the wooden railing.

"Families are complicated.. Especially royal ones.. My older brother despises me.. My mother loathes" casters muses, understanding all too well the weight of parental disappointment.

"That they are.. Cunts the lot of em" yara said and straightens up with her moment of vulnerability passing, "So you and your Sand Snake will be joining me in my bed" she asks boldly, raising an eyebrow.

"Hahaha.. Of course" caster replies with a hint of mischief in his steel blue eyes. Yara's smile widens as she steps closer to him, close enough that he could smell the salt of the sea on her skin.

"I must admit.. You're a pretty good fuck Baratheon.. Better than I expected from a mainlander" yara said in a lower voice, her fingers briefly tracing along his arm. Jon clears his throat awkwardly from a few paces away with his face slightly reddened as ser barristan, keeps his gaze fixed firmly on the corridor ahead but his thoughts drift to robert and his his antics.

"High praise indeed from the Iron Islands' finest" caster replies, his voice carrying just enough sincerity to make yara's eyes flash with appreciation.

"Don't get too confident.. We have work to do first.. Pleasure comes after duty" yara says, humor in her eyes. Two weeks later and the future salt queen's sleek vessel cuts through the turquoise waters of the narrow sea as they approach the colorful harbor of tyrosh. The famous fountain of the Drunken God is visible even from the harbor, its waters dyed a deep crimson that caught the midday sun.

"I was last here almost three years ago.. Nothing but my Lion's Fury" caster thought with his eyes tracing the familiar skyline and yara is next to him, "I left here as Commander of the Second Sons with 2,500 men at my back" he says, a hint of nostalgia in his voice. Tyene appears at his other side and her arm interlock with his arm, "Now you have close to 20,000 men my Lion" she said with a proud smile.

"Indeed.. I was on good terms with the Archon then… But times change" caster replies, his eyes never leaving the approaching city and his expression hardened slightly.

"You expecting trouble" yara says, studying his face and reading the subtle tension in his jaw.

"I expect nothing and prepare for everything… Tyrosh is a city of opportunity and danger in equal measure.. The Archon was amenable to my gold before but power shifts like the tides here" caster answers, turning to face both women and his steel blue eyes reflecting the glittering sea. The ship cuts smoothly through the waves, drawing ever closer to the bustling harbor where ships from across the known world dock and trad. Colorfully dressed merchants and sailors crowd the wharves, a testament to tyrosh's position as a trading powerhouse as they prepare to dock.

"The city hasn't changed much.. But I wonder what currents run beneath its surface now" caster said, gesturing toward the distinctive architecture.

"How will we proceed now that we are here my prince" barristan asks, his voice low. Caster studies the harbor where ships of various sizes and origins were docked, their colorful sails and banners fluttering in the breeze.

"We'll need to divide our forces.. Tyene.. Sylvie.. Ulthor and Jon will accompany me to see the Archon.. We need to inform them of our coming army and secure their support.. Or at the very least their neutrality" caster said decisively, turning to his gathered group.

"A wise approach.. The Tyroshi respect strength but they're also merchants at heart.. They'll want to know what they stand to gain from aligning with us" jon says with a nod, his forearm resting on blackfyre.

"Ser Barristan.. I need you.. Obara and Nymeria to secure an inn for us.. Something defensible but not too conspicuous.. We don't know yet who our friends and enemies are in this city" caster continues, his expression serious.

"As you command my prince.. The Prancing Stallion near the eastern gate would serve us well.. Far enough from the docks to avoid the worst of the rabble but close enough to escape if needed" barristan says, bowing his head slightly.

"I'd rather be at your side when you meet the Archon.. These Tyroshi can be treacherous.. Especially with the current conflicts in the Free Cities" obara says, looking out over the harbor.

"Your skills may be needed elsewhere" caster replies firmly.

"And what of me Baratheon" yara says with a calculating smile.

"I have a different task for you.. Tyrosh lives and dies by its harbor.. I need you among the docks and taverns where sailors gather.. Your kind will speak more freely with you than with any of us" caster says, his lips curving into a slight smile.

"I'll listen to the scuttle from the sailors.. You'd be surprised what men let slip after a few cups of Tyroshi pear brandy.. Especially to someone they think is just another sea wolf far from home" yara says, a glint in her eye.

"Perfect.. We'll reconvene at nightfall to share what we've learned.. This city's wealth and strategic position could be vital to our cause. Let's make sure we keep them in our favor" caster said as the groups prepare to separate and their tasks assured.

-XxX-

The sun beat down on the streets as caster's group approaches the imposing gates of the archon's palace as the structure rises above the surrounding buildings, its weather-worn stones telling tales of centuries past. Guards line the entrance as their spears glint in the midday light, eyes narrowed with suspicion at the approaching party. Caster straightens his shoulders and steps forward with the aura of the season commander he is, "I am Caster Storm.. I've come to see my old friend the Archon" he announced, his voice clear and steady. The guards exchange glances with hands tightening around their spears but one older than the rest with a salt-and-pepper beard recognizes caster's face or namely his eyes.

"Caster Storm?!.. The Storm Lion.. Commander of the Second Sons and slayer of Khal Drogo" the guard said, a note of recognition in his gruff voice. A murmur runs through the other guards and caster could feel their gazes shift from suspicion to curiosity.

"Indeed.. The very same.. He's returned to Tyrosh to maintain his friendly relationship with the Archon… Or establish a new one with the current Archon.. Should there have been changes since his last visit" tyene said with a subtle smile playing on her lips and her sharp eyes scanning the guards. The older guard studies them for a moment longer but then nods slowly, "The Archon speaks often of the Storm Lion.. Says you're a man who knows the value of both sword and word" he said, his voice dropping lower.

"I'm honored he remembers me" caster says, inclining his head slightly.

"Wait here… Inform the Archon that Caster Storm seeks audience" the guard said, turning to one of his younger companions and the young guards hurries away. Caster's eyes subtly shift to survey things as in tyrosh one's reputation can be shield or a target, his gaze sees not much has changed and the archon still maintains a strong force.

"This place hasn't changed much since We were last here" slyvie says, mirroring his own thoughts and he nods his head. Caster could see dozens more guards patrolling the grounds, their armor bearing the distinctive emblem of tyrosh, the men move with the fluid confidence of sellswords who have proven their worth. After several minutes of tense waiting, the young guard returns and accompanied by a richly dressed man whose beard is dyed a vibrant blue, something caster had to force daario not to do.

"The Archon will see you now.. But only you and two companions Storm Lion.. The rest must wait outside" the blue-bearded man announced with a shallow bow.

"Jon.. Sylvie.. You'll accompany me and stay alert" caster says, removing his sword belt and giving it to ulthor.

"Be careful my Lion.. He'll be looking for profit in your arrival" tyene says, moving closer and her voice dropping to a whisper only caster could hear as jon removes blackfyre with slyvie removing most of her weapons.

"All men seek profit of some kind.. The trick is finding the currency they value most" caster says with a subtle nod of acknowledgment. The gates swing open as caster squares his shoulders and steps forward, knowing his every word and gesture would be measured carefully. The blue-bearded man leads them through a series of courtyards, each more elaborate than the last. Fountains spraying water dyed in the famous tyroshi hues of azure, crimson and viridian while servants with rainbow-colored hair scurry about their duties.

"The Archon speaks of you often Storm Lion.. Despite your youth had the air of a seasoned warrior" the blue-bearded man said as they walks, his accent thick. Jon and sylvie exchange glances behind caster's back with her eyes constantly scanning their surroundings.

"That quality has only grown with time.. Experience is a thorough teacher.. If occasionally a harsh one" caster replies evenly.

"Indeed and from what we hear.. You've had plenty of experience since your departure.. Khal Drogo and the expansion of your forces…" the man says, stroking his beard and his statement hanging in the air like a question.

"News travels fast across the Essos" caster says, his face revealing nothing.

"Information is perhaps Tyrosh's most valuable commodity.. More precious than even our famous dyes" the man replies with a knowing smile. They approach a set of ornate double doors inlaid with mother-of-pearl and lapis-lazuli. Guards flank the entrance with their spears crossing as the group approaches, then parting at a nod from their blue-bearded guide.

"The Archon awaits.. May your meeting be profitable for all" the man announces, gesturing toward the chamber beyond. Caster nods to jon and sylvie as they enter the grand audience chamber. Sunlight streams through stained glass windows, casting multicolored patterns across the marble floor. At the far end and seated upon a chair carved from what appears to be fossilized weirwood is the archon of tyrosh. The man hasn't changed much in three years, still lean and sharp-eyed with a beard dyed deep purple that contrasts with the silver at his temples. He wears robes of shimmering teal silk embroidered with golden thread and his fingers glitter from rings set by precious stones.

"The Storm Lion returns to Tyrosh" the archon announces with his voice carrying easily across the chamber, "It has been three years since you walked these halls.. Three eventful years if the whispers that reach me are true" he adds, his eyes being sharp as a hawk's and examining caster with undisguised interest.

"Indeed… And I hope to maintain our relationship Archon.. I return not as the young commander who left your shores but as the leader who smashed the Golden Company near Volantis… They're calling it the Battle of Second and Gold now" caster replies with a respectful inclination of his head and his posture confident but not arrogant. The archon's eyebrows ruse slightly and the purple of his beard shifts as his lips curves into a subtle smile, "Impressive.. You left Tyrosh with only 2,500 men at your back… Yet in three short years.. You defeated the most famed sellsword company in all of Essos.. A company with a reputation built over centuries" he says, jeweled fingers steepled before him. Jon shifts his weight behind caster, while sylvie maintains her careful watch of the room and its occupants.

"I added to our numbers.. The Sisters of Battle near Qohor joined our cause.. These women warriors are fierce as any man I've fought alongside.. And 8,000 Unsullied from Astapor now march under my banner" caster explains, his voice steady. A murmur run through the assembled courtiers and the archon's eyes widen slightly, genuine surprise flashing across his features before he regains his composed expression.

"Unsullied… Those do not come cheaply, nor do they typically change masters… Though I heard nasty rumors you killed several of the Good Masters to acquire them" the archon states, stroking his purple beard thoughtfully.

"War often makes for difficult choices" caster replies evenly, neither confirming nor denying.

"What happens in Slaver's Bay often stays in Slaver's Bay.. Though I must say Good Master Yezzan has flourished since these... Changes.. His representatives were in Tyrosh just last month.. Securing exclusive trading rights for certain dyes" the archon says, waving a bejeweled hand dismissively.

"The world shifts like sand beneath our feet.. Some fall and others rise.. Yezzan seems the most adaptable of the Masters" caster says, his face remaining impassive but his internal face smirks.

"Indeed.. And now the adaptable Storm Lion returns to Tyrosh with a strengthened force and I presume.. Strengthened ambitions" the archon replies, studying caster with renewed interest and gestures to a servant who brought forward goblets of tyroshi pear brandy.

"Tell me Storm Lion.. What brings you back to our humble city.. Surely a man with your growing power has his sights set on larger prizes than renewing old acquaintances" the archon continues as the drinks were distributed. Caster accepts the goblet but didn't drink immediately, instead swirling the amber liquid thoughtfully as he considers his words. The sweet aroma of pear brandy fills his nostrils as he looks the archon directly in the eyes.

"I simply wish to prepare Tyrosh for my coming forces.. They are led Daario Naharis.. We number close to 20,000 now" caster said, his voice measured and calm before a measured sip. The archon's eyes widen and he nearly chokes on his drink before setting his goblet down with a soft clink against the table beside his chair.

"Twenty thousand?!" the archon says with his composure slipping momentarily and his gaze darting to his advisors before returning to caster, "That's... A considerable force.. More than most city-states could field… And what exactly do you intend to do with such an army Storm Lion" he asks while leaning forward, fingers tapping against the armrest.

"I'll do exactly what I did when I first became commander of the Second Sons… We take contracts and defend those who pay fairly" caster replies and takes another sip of brandy to wet his tongue, "Including Tyrosh should you desire it.. We could defend your city-state from the likes of Lys and Myr if needed" he adds and spread his hands in a gesture of openness. The tension in the room eases somewhat but the archon's eyes remains calculating, "A mercenary force then… Though one of unprecedented size" the archon said, stroking his purple beard.

"Size brings strength.. But discipline brings victory.. My forces are both numerous and disciplined" caster said with a nod. One of the archon's advisors, a thin man with a forked beard dyed emerald green, leaned close to whisper something to the archon and then he smiles thinly.

"Your offer is intriguing.. But Tyrosh has long maintained its independence through careful diplomacy and strategic alliances rather than raw military power.. What advantage would we gain that our current arrangements don't already provide" the emerald beard man said and slyvie shifts her weight to give caster a subtle signal that the room has more ears than it appears.

"Your current arrangements.. Have Lys building warships at an unprecedented rate and Myr recruiting sellswords from as far as Volantis.. Even trying to recruit my services... Then the Disputed Lands have seen more blood this past year than in the previous five combined" caster says while observing quietly and the advisor freezes at the mention of myr possibly recruiting caster's army.

"You're well-informed for someone who's spent the last three years east of the Rhoyne" the Archon says with his eyes narrowed, genuine surprise surprise on his face.

"Information is indeed Tyrosh's most valuable commodity.. But having the strength to act on that information... That's what truly separates the powerful from the merely knowledgeable" caster replies, echoing their guide's earlier words. A silence falls over the chamber as the archon studies caster, weighing his words and the man himself but finally picks up his goblet again, taking a long and considering drink.

"You offer protection.. What price does the Storm Lion demand for his services" the archon said at last.

"A fair one with terms beneficial to both sides.. I seek a home port for my ships.. Provisioning rights for my men and our continued friendship.. In return Tyrosh gains the protection of the strongest fighting force east of the Narrow Sea" caster replies with a faint smile and another sip. The archon's purple beard twitches with a small smile, "You've grown bold since you left our shores Storm Lion.. But boldness backed by twenty thousand swords commands attention… We shall discuss your proposal in detail.. Perhaps over dinner tonight.. My cooks have prepared a feast that would honor even a commander of your... Growing stature" he says and gestures to his advisors.

"I would be honored Archon.. And if I may.. I will return this evening with the Lady Tyene Sand on my arm" caster says while inclining his head, a subtle glint in his eye. The mention of the sand anake brought a flicker of interest to the archon's hawkish gaze, remembering the most beautiful woman in the world.

"That Dornish beauty.. Yes.. I remember her presence among your entourage.. A woman as dangerous as she is fair" the archon says, his jeweled fingers tapping thoughtfully against the armrest of his chair. Jon and sylvie remain impassive behind caster, though the slightest tension in sylvie's shoulders betray her awareness of how carefully the archon is measuring each word and reaction.

"That is fine… I would be pleased to welcome both the Storm Lion and his serpent to my table… In fact I shall invite several members of our merchant council as well. They have a particular interest in... Expanding relationships with Dorne" the archon continues with a gracious wave of his hand but his eyes glint from calculation beneath his composed exterior. Caster understands the implication that the archon is already considering how to leverage this connection, by gaining trade routes through dorne would bypass the extortionate tariffs imposed by king's landing.

"Until this evening then" caster said, bowing with just the right degree of respect, neither too deep to suggest subservience nor too shallow to give offense.

"Do give my regards to the Sand Snake.. I understand her father was quite memorable during his visits to Tyrosh years ago.. The city still speaks of his... Exploits" the archon adds in a deceptively casual tone as caster and company turn to leave.

"I'm sure she'll be delighted to hear it" caster replies smoothly, though he noted the subtle probing by the archon. The blue-bearded guide reappears to escort them out, his expression betraying nothing of what he might have overheard. They walk back through the rainbow-hued courtyards as caster's mind is already planning the evening ahead, a dance of words and intentions where every step would need to be precisely measured.

"Your meeting went well?" the guide inquires politely, though his eyes remain watchful.

"Well enough… The Archon is as shrewd as ever" caster replies noncommittally. Sylvie walks silently beside caster as her gaze sweeps the surroundings with practiced ease. She catches the subtle movements of servants who linger too long near columns, the guards whose postures shift as they pass with everyone in the palace watching and listening. They emerge into the outer courtyard where the sun shines across the mosaic tiles and beyond the ornate iron gates were two familiar figures waiting. Tyene is holding his sword belt like a revered item as the tower ulthor stands beside her with jon's blackfyre, slyvie's shield and spear.

"I was beginning to wonder if the Archon had decided to keep you.. The palace guards have been watching us like hawks. How did our purple-bearded friend receive you" tyene said, her eyes are sharp and scans caster's face.

"With caution and curiosity" caster replies while stepping close enough to speak quietly and aware of the eyes that follow them even here, "He's invited us to dinner tonight.. You specifically included" he adds, as a merchant passing by with servants slows his pace slightly while trying to overhear. Tyene's lips curve into a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, "Did he mention my father" she says, one hand moving to touch her serpent pendant.

"In passing.. Said Tyrosh still remembers his visits" caster says, reaching up to caress her cheek.

"I'm sure they do" tyene murmurs, a hint of pride mingling with something darker in her tone.

"Any trouble" ulthor asks jon simply.

"Just talk for now.. But there will be more players at tonight's dinner" jon says, shaking his head and adjusting blackfyre.

"The merchant council… They're interested in Dornish connections" caster explains, gesturing for them to begin walking toward the city proper and away from the listening ears of the palace.

"Bypassing the crown's tariffs.. Smart" tyene says, falling into step beside him and her steps graceful.

"And convenient for our longer plans" ulthor comments, taking up position slightly behind them and northern eyes never stopping their vigilant sweep.

"We should regroup with the others" caster said, his voice low as they move further from the palace grounds. The streets of tyrosh grow more crowded as they move away from the affluent district surrounding the archon's palace. The scent of spices and salt air mingle with the sweat of laborers and merchants as they navigate the narrow and winding streets.

"I need proper attire for tonight's dinner" caster remarks, glancing down at his current clothing.

"I still remember a few reputable tailors in the city.. Sylvie and I can arrange something suitable while you meet with Ser Barristan" jon says, nodding slightly.

"Good.. Something with Tyroshi flair with a little Baratheon color" caster said as they round a corner onto a wider street lined with taverns and inns. The prancing stallion stands three stories tall, its whitewashed walls contrasting with dark timber beams. A wooden sign depicting a rearing horse swings gently in the afternoon breeze. Unlike the rougher establishments near the docks, this inn caters to merchants and more respectable travelers, its windows clean and its doorway guarded by a stern-faced man with a sword at his hip.

"I'll check inside first for Ser Barristan and the others" ulthor said, his eyes already scanning the windows and rooftops around them for any sign of watchers while jon and slyvie part for their errand.

"The dinner won't just be about securing the Archon's support… My father always said that in Tyrosh.. The merchant council holds the true power.. The Archon merely balances their competing interests" tyene whispers, leaning close enough that her words wouldn't carry.

"And they'll all be watching to see how they can use us to their advantage.. That's why we need to present a united front..." caster replies, his eyes on the inn's entrance. Ulthor reappears at the doorway while giving a subtle nod and they follow him inside, passing from the bright sun into the dimly lit common room of the inn. In the far corner and partially hidden in shadow were ser barristan, obara and nymeria reclined in her chair with deceptive casualness, her dark eyes tracking every movement in the room. Caster's group approaches and barristan rises to his feet, a gesture of respect that speaks volumes about their relationship.

"The Archon has invited us to dinner tonight.. He's intrigued by our strength.. Though cautious about our intentions" caster said without preamble as he takes a seat at their table.

"And did you tell him your true intentions" obara asks, her muscular forearms resting on the table.

"I told him enough to pique his interest.. The rest will come in time" caster replies, signaling to a serving girl for wine.

"The Archon's palace has ears in every corner and will know what ships we have" nymeria says, her slender fingers toying with a thin dagger

"As I expected but he sees only Greyjoy colors… Now I sent Jon and Sylvie to get us some clothes for the party tonight.. Something that will make the right impression" caster says with a nod as the serving girl brings a bottle of wine and cups, "Now while Tyene and I are at the party.. The rest of you should remain vigilant in the city but unseen" he adds, pouring some wine.

"You should get some rest before tonight's festivities my Prince.. The Archon's dinners are known to last well into the night and you'll need your wits about you" barristan said and rises from the table, "I've secured rooms on the upper floor.. Vantage points overlooking both the street and the inner courtyard.. Obara and Nymeria will take the room adjacent to yours" he said quietly as he leads caster and tyene up the creaking wooden steps. The upper corridor is dim and lit only by slivers of sunlight streaming through small windows. Barristan pauses before a solid oak door near the end of the hallway and producing a heavy iron key, "This should suffice for your needs.. The innkeeper assures me it's the finest chamber they have" he said, unlocking the door and stepping aside. The room is modest but clean with a large bed draped in faded blue linens, a writing desk beneath the window and a copper bathtub in the corner. A small balcony overlooks the bustling street below, offering a clear view of the approach to the inn.

"Jon and Sylvie should return well before sunset.. I'll arranged for bath water to be brought up shortly.. You'll want to be properly refreshed before meeting the Archon again" barristan continues, his eyes sweeping the room with professional assessment.

"Perfect timing Ser Barristan.. Nothing clears the mind like a proper bath before battle and make no mistake.. Tonight's dinner is a battle of sorts" tyene says with a smile that conveys both warmth and calculation.

"I'll stand guard at the stairs and ensure you're not disturbed.. We'll reconvene an hour before sunset to discuss our approach for tonight" barristan says, his expression remaining carefully neutral and excuses himself. Tyene approaches the copper tub while trailing her fingers along its rim, "Shall we share a bath my lion.. It would be practical after all" she asks, holds his gaze as she reaches for the clasp of her cloak. Caster watches her for a moment, recognizing both the invitation and the complex currents beneath it.

"Practical indeed.. Though I suspect the Archon would be displeased if we were late because we were being too... Prudent with his city's water" caster replies with a slight smile, stepping toward her.

"The Archon will wait.. We are the guests of honor" tyene says with a soft laugh, her fingers expertly untying the laces of her dress. Caster removes his coat, boots, trousers and leaves only his tunic as the servants arrive with steaming buckets of water, filling the copper tub while studiously avoiding eye contact. Tyene slips out of her dress, revealing sun-kissed skin after they depart as caster removes his tunic and steps in. Tyene joins him with her back against his chest as his arms encircle her waist, "Tell me what you're thinking.. I can almost hear the wheels turning in that mind of yours" she said softly, her wet fingers tracing patterns on his forearm.

"The Archon is cautious but interested.. The merchant council will be harder to convince" caster says, his chin resting on her shoulder.

"They care only for gold and advantage.. Show them both and they'll support you" tyene says and light doses her skin with water but slowly turns to him slightly, "But that's not all you're thinking about is it" she adds, her hand cupping his cheek.

"No.. I'm thinking about what comes after Tyrosh" caster said, his eyes meeting hers.

"Just take it one step at a time my Lion" tyene says, pressing her lips against his as her kiss tastes of salt and promise. They remain in the bath until the water cools, speaking of strategies for the dinner ahead, interspersed with moments of tender intimacy that require no words. They rest in bed and are not disturbed until the afternoon when jon and slyvie arrive, bearing carefully wrapped parcels of clothing.

"We found exactly what you needed.. The tailor was most accommodating when we mentioned who they were for" sylvie says, laying the packages on the bed and jon nods in agreement. Caster unwraps the first package, revealing a doublet of rich black silk, embroidered with golden thread in patterns that subtly resembles a lion and the cut is distinctly tyroshi being slightly more fitted than westerosi fashion with wider sleeves and a higher collar. Beneath it lay matching trousers of the same fine black silk.

"It's perfect" caster said, running his fingers over the material. Tyene's package contains a gown of deep orange silk that would complement her dornish coloring perfectly. The cut is modest but would still appear exotic to tyroshi eyes. Subtle patterns of golden snakes wound around the hem and sleeves, visible only when the light caught them at certain angles.

"Perfect for a Lion and Snake stalking their prey" tyene muses and caster's smile widens some. Jon begins the process of cleaning his boots as caster discusses things with tyene some more. Once the sun begins to set and both begin to dress with care as jon helps caster to secure a slender dagger beneath his doublet, while sylvie assists tyene with incorporating small golden pins sharp enough to serve as weapons if needed. When they were ready barristan, ulthor and the other sand snakes gather for a final council.

"Remember.. The merchant council will try to separate you from each other to gauge your individual weaknesses.. Stay united in your purpose" nymeria said, adjusting one of tyene's hairpins.

"If anyone tries to poison you.. Stab them in the throat" obara adds and the others look to her, "What?!.. It's effective" she adds with a shrug. Twilight paints the sky as caster offers his arm to tyene and together they descend the stairs of the inn, where a carriage bearing the archon's emblem waits to transport them to the palace.

"Ready" caster asks quietly as they settle into the plush interior.

"Always my Lion.. Let's make the Archon an offer he cannot refuse" tyene replies, her voice steady and sure. The carriage pulls away from the prancing stallion, carrying them through streets now lit by oil lamps and torches.

-XxX-

Caster observes quietly at the colorful buildings of tyrosh passing by their window as the evening air carries hints of salt, spice and the ever-present scent of dyes that give the city its fame.

"The Archon doesn't waste time.. Neither should we" tyene says, adjusting the sleeve of her gown. The carriage wheels clatter over streets as they wind through increasingly opulent districts with wealthy merchants watched from balconies, speculating about the foreign visitors. They soon approach the palace gates and caster notices subtle changes since their earlier visit. More guards line the walls with their armor polished to a gleam. Banners have been added and not just the archon's but those representing prominent merchant houses.

"He's gathered them all.. This isn't just a dinner.. It's a display" caster notes with a faint smile spreading his lips. The carriage passes through the gates and circles a fountain where water spilled from the mouths of golden dolphins and standing at the palace entrance is the archon's seneschal himself.

"Lord Storm Lion.. Lady Sand… The Archon eagerly awaits your arrival.. You are his final guests this evening" the seneschal greets them with a precise bow as a footman opens their carriage door.

"Final guests.. A position of honor or a chance for everyone else to form alliances before we arrive" tyene whispers as they follow the seneschal into the palace.

"Both I imagine" caster replies, his eyes taking in every detail of their surroundings as the corridors were now lined with fresh flowers. Servants and slaves stand at attention while watching them pass with curious eyes. The seneschal leads them through a series of increasingly ornate chambers, unlike the blue-bearded guide earlier. Each displaying tyroshi wealth in different forms like tapestries depicting naval victories, sculptures of precious metals and display cases filled with rare dyes that cost more than gold by weight.

"The Archon has instructed me to give you a more... Scenic route to the banquet hall.. He thought you might appreciate seeing some of Tyrosh's treasures" the seneschal explains, noting caster's observant gaze.

"How thoughtful.. Please convey our gratitude for such consideration" caster replies smoothly. They pass a room where a map of the narrow sea dominate an entire wall with tiny ships of gold and silver marking trade routes and naval positions. They approach a set of massive doors finally inlaid with mother-of-pearl and they swing open, revealing a banquet hall alive with color, light and the quiet hum of power. The archon is resplendent in robes of teal and gold, rising from his seat at the head of the long table. Around him sit two dozen of tyrosh's most influential figures, their attention now fixed entirely on the newcomers.

"Storm Lion and the Lady Tyene Sand of Dorne.. Our honored guests have arrived at last.. Now we may truly begin" the archon announces, his voice carrying across the suddenly hushed room. The archon gestures toward two empty seats to his immediate right, his rings catching the light from the dozens of candles illuminating the hall.

"Come my friends.. I've saved places of honor for you both" the archon said with a broad smile that didn't quite reach his calculating eyes. Caster notes how the merchant council members straighten in their seats, their dyed beards and elaborate clothes creating a rainbow of colors around the table. Some nod respectfully while others watch with barely concealed suspicion.

"My Lord Archon.. You honor us" caster replies with a measured bow before taking his seat. Tyene gracefully settles beside him with her orange silk gown glowing warmly in the candlelight. Servants immediately appear with goblets of sweet tyroshi pear brandy, placing them before the new arrivals with practiced precision. The archon immediately raises his own goblet in a toast, "To new friendships and profitable ventures" he proclaims and everyone drinks.

"My friends.. Our guest has quite the reputation that precedes him.. I believe we would all be most entertained to hear the tale that has reached even our shores… You must tell us the tale of how you defeated Khal Drogo" the archon said, addressing the table while keeping his eyes fixed on caster. A murmur of interest ripple through the gathered merchants. Several lean forward in their seats, eyes suddenly sharp with curiosity. Caster feels tyene's foot press gently against his under the table, a silent reminder to tread carefully.

"You honor me with your interest.. Though tales often grow in the telling" caster replies smoothly, taking a small sip of the brandy.

"Modesty is a luxury for those without accomplishments.. And we in Tyrosh appreciate directness in our dealings. The defeat of a Dothraki khal with forty thousand screamers at his command is no small feat" the archon says as a counter with a wave of his bejeweled hand.

"Well… I encountered Khal Drogo in a Lhazareen town that he raided… He and his khalasar were making their way to Vaes Dothrak.. The meeting was... Fortuitous as he possessed something I wanted" caster begin, his voice carrying just enough to reach the entire table without seeming boastful.

"Was it perhaps the Dragon Princess I've heard whispers about.. The last Targaryen" the archon says, his lips curling into a knowing smile. Caster nods slightly while noting how several merchants exchange glances at the mention of daenerys, "Indeed.. Daenerys Targaryen was his bride-to-be and I wanted.. My small group of only several slipped into the town" he says and pauses to take another small sip of brandy, "Drogo was dealing with one of his bloodriders when I arrived.. There was some dispute about the treatment of captives.. Daenerys called for the safety.. The Bloodrider wanted his spoils" he adds before taking another sip.

"Dothraki are not known for their gentle handling of those they conquer" a merchant with a forked beard dyed deep blue said.

"No they are not.. Drogo was in a rage and killed the Bloodrider for acting against his Khaleesi... He loudly declared in Dothraki that any who challenged him courted death itself" caster said and pauses for effect, "And I boldly declared:.. Then I challenge death" he adds, his steel eyes sweeping the table and noting the rapt attention of his audience. A collective intake of breath came from several of the merchants as tyene's expression remains calm, though her eyes reflect pride while watching caster command the room.

"Did you speak to a Dothraki Khal in his own language" asks a woman wearing an elaborate headdress studded with blue pearls.

"I did.. Knowledge is a weapon more valuable than Valyrian steel.. And I prefer to be well-armed when I enter unfamiliar territory" caster replies with a faint smile.

"So you challenged the mighty Khal Drogo with nothing but words.. Brave but perhaps not wise" the archon says, leaning forward and his eyes gleaming with interest. Caster smiles thinly while reaching for his goblet, "Not with words alone my lord Archon.. I had my sword as well… And I made it clear that I wanted Drogo himself" he says and takes a measured sip of the brandy.

"You specifically asked to fight the Khal?!.. Most men would have been content to face one of his bloodriders" asks a merchant with a jade-colored beard, his tone caught between admiration and disbelief.

"Most men would have died just the same.. Drogo initially intended for one of his men to fight me.. A calculated insult.. Suggesting I wasn't worthy of his personal attention" caster replies with a shrug. Tyene's fingers brush against her goblet with her eyes never leaving caster's face, a quiet pride in her expression mingled with appreciation for his tactical storytelling.

"And how did you persuade him otherwise" the archon said, now fully invested in the tale.

"I told him.. Is the Great Khal afraid of a Pretty Boy from across the Narrow Sea" caster said simply and gets a few gasps, "Dothraki respect strength above all else.. To suggest cowardice to a khal before his khalasar is to force his hand" he adds, letting his words hang in the air.

"A dangerous game" one of the merchants says while chuckling darkly.

"The most rewarding games often are.. Drogo accepted my challenge.. His honor demanded nothing less" caster said, his eyes briefly meeting tyene's.

"Quite the gambit.. What made you so confident you could defeat such a legendary warrior" the archon says, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"I never enter battles I don't believe I can win Lord Archon.. That's a luxury reserved for fools and dead men" caster says, his expression remains neutral but there is steel in his voice.

"It was a sight to behold.. The Dothraki formed a circle around them.. Their stamping and shouting at the edge of the makeshift arena" tyene adds, her voice carrying just enough to command attention without seeming eager.

"They say the Dothraki live and die by the arakh.. Did Drogo fight with his curved blade" the merchant with the jade beard says, leaning forward.

"He did.. The blade itself had taken many lives but so did mine" caster said with a sip of brandy and thinking of his red dawn.

"And nearly took one more.. My Lion fought with such skill and ferocity that even some of Drogo's own bloodriders began to cheer him.. I've never seen Dothraki honor an outsider so" tyene says, her eyes meeting caster's.

"The battle lasted longer than most expected.. Drogo was... Formidable.. Every bit the warrior his reputation suggested" caster says with a nod at her words, "There's a particular moment in combat when you recognize an opponent worthy of respect.. Drogo earned mine within the first exchange of blows." he adds, reflecting on the memory.

"Yet you prevailed" the archon said, studying caster with renewed interest.

"I did.. But it was no easy victory.. Khal Drogo was perhaps the finest warrior I've ever faced to date. When I delivered the final blow.. There was no shame in his eyes.. Only the recognition that he had met his match" caster says without boasting, "It was an honor to fight him.. And to kill him.. The Dothraki understand this truth better than most.. There is no dishonor in falling to a worthy opponent" he adds, raising his goblet slightly.

"The bloodriders didn't seek revenge.. Surely they would avenge their Khal" asks the woman with the pearl headdress. Tyene smiles with her eyes reflecting the candlelight as she looks around the table, "They wanted to of course.. Many of them drew their arakhs the moment Drogo fell.. But my Lion declared not to Dishonor their Khal" she says, her voice carrying just enough tension to hold the merchants' attention. Caster takes a small sip of his brandy before continuing, "Indeed.. The bloodriders were bound by oath to avenge their khal but they were also bound by something deeper.. Respect for their traditions" he says, setting down his goblet carefully.

"What happened" the archon asks, leaning forward slightly.

"I told them that to attack me now would dishonor their Khal and their ways.. Drogo had accepted single combat willingly.. He had fought well with courage and skill befitting a great warrior.. To seek revenge for a fair defeat would suggest their khal had chosen poorly.. That he needed protection like a child" caster replies, his eyes a little distant.

"Using their own honor against them.. Clever" the merchant with the jade beard says with a slow nod, clearly impressed.

"It wasn't mere cleverness.. You should have seen him stand there.. Bloodied but unbowed... When he roared at them.. Even I felt a chill down my spine" tyene interjects, a note of pride in her voice.

"They stayed their hand.. Though I could see the decision pained them" Caster continued, after drinking some brandy.

"And what of the khalasar.. Forty thousand Dothraki don't simply disperse upon their khal's death" one of the quieter merchants at the far end of the table says.

"No they don't.. Most followed the strongest remaining bloodrider.. But I claimed what was mine by right of combat… Daenerys Targaryen along with several slaves he had captured including her handmaidens" caster said, remembering a few clashes.

"Quite the prize" mutters the archon, his eyes calculating.

"The most surprising thing came afterward.. Tell them my Lion" tyene says, her fingers drumming lightly on the table.

"Nearly a hundred of Drogo's riders followed Daenerys and to follow the man who killed Khal Drogo" caster says with a nod and looking around the table.

"A hundred Dothraki screamers?!.. Unprecedented" The blue-bearded merchant says, raising his eyebrows.

"They follow strength" caster said simply.

"And the dragon princess.. What became of her" the archon says, studying caster with renewed interest. Caster takes a measured sip of his brandy before answering, "Daenerys Stormborn serves in my ranks now" he said simply, watching the surprise register on several faces around the table.

"Your ranks?!.. The daughter of the Mad King serves a sellsword commander" the merchant with the jade-colored beard echoes out, clearly skeptical. Tyene's lips curve into a subtle smile as she watches the merchants' reactions and traces the rim of her goblet with one finger, letting caster handle the questioning.

"She does.. And quite effectively.. She's become quite the little archer among the Sisters of Battle of Qohor that joined my ranks.. Many assumed she would be nothing more than a political token, but Daenerys has proven herself far more valuable with a bow in hand than as a mere symbol" caster says, raising his goblet to be filled by a servant.

"Fascinating.. Most Commanders would have sold her to the highest bidder or ransomed her back to Westeros.. King Joffrey would pay handsomely for the last Targaryen I imagine" the archon says, his jeweled fingers steepled before him.

"Most men lack imagination.. I recognized something in her that reminded me of myself.. Someone who was told they were meant for one purpose.. Only to discover they might excel at another entirely" caster replies evenly and leaving unsaid any hint of royal blood and lets them think him simply a capable commander who'd risen through skill and cunning.

"She fights with the ferocity of her house sigil.. I heard brought down three men with three arrows in the space of heartbeats during our the Battle of Second and Gold" tyene adds, her voice carrying and a murmur of interest ripples through the gathered merchants. The woman with the pearl headdress tilted her head, "Your company faced the Golden Company.. Few mercenary companies dare challenge them directly" she asks, measuring her words carefully.

"Indeed.. It seemed the late Harry Strickland took a contract for my head.. And lost his in the process" caster says with a thin smile, leaning back in his chair with a casual confidence that belies the gravity of his words.

"You... Defeated the Golden Company" the blue-bearded merchant finally stammer after a stunned silence.

"My ten thousand against his fifteen thousand near Volantis.. The locals now call it the Battle of Second and Gold" caster said, his tone matter-of-fact as though discussing something as mundane as the weather. Tyene's eyes gleam as she watches the merchants' reactions and lifts her goblet in a subtle toast to caster before sipping.

"How did you manage such a feat.. The Golden Company hasn't broken a contract in..." asks the merchant with the jade beard, no longer bothering to hide his astonishment.

"They didn't break their contract.. They simply failed to fulfill it.. Strickland was competent but predictable.. He relied too heavily on his elephants and pikemen in terrain that favored neither" caster interrupts, tracing the rim of his goblet with one finger.

"And after such a victory" the archon says, now understanding why caster was so confident.

"Their ranks scattered or joined mine.. As I told you earlier today my Lord Archon.. My company now numbers twenty thousand strong.. Those who survived that day had a simple choice.. Join the victors or seek employment elsewhere" caster said with a slight shrug.

"And now you offer this formidable force to aid Tyrosh in its... Issues" the archon said carefully, the word 'issues' carrying a weight of diplomatic understatement.

"Indeed.. I suspect many will think twice about challenging Tyrosh once word spreads that the Second Sons that defeated the Golden Company now stands with you" caster replies, meeting the archon's gaze directly with a faint smile. The merchant with the turquoise rings nods vigorously and his many chins quivering with the motion, "I agree.. Lys and Myr will be weary to push their battles of the Disputed Lands on us when such forces guard our interests… For too long Tyrosh has borne the brunt of their quarrels.. Perhaps it's time we showed strength rather than mere diplomatic maneuvering" he says, his eyes gleaming with calculation as he looks around the table.

"The balance of power shifts with the wind in these parts.. Yet twenty thousand hardened fighters with a proven commander..." another merchant adds, stroking his forked purple beard thoughtfully and leaving the implication of his words hanging.

"The Disputed Lands have seen too much blood for too little gain.. Sometimes the mere presence of overwhelming force can accomplish what decades of skirmishes cannot" caster says and takes a measured sip of his brandy, letting the rich liquid linger on his tongue before swallowing.

"Peace through strength.. A concept as old as war itself.. Yet rarely executed with the... Resources you bring to bear" the archon muses, his fingers drumming quietly on the polished tabletop.

"And what of Braavos.. They've been financing both sides for generations.. Their interest lies in keeping us at each other's throats" asks the woman with the pearl headdress.

"The Iron Bank understands profit and loss better than any institution in the known world.. When the cost of financing a losing venture becomes apparent.. Even they must reconsider their investments" tyene says after exchanging a subtle glance with caster.

"Indeed... And speaking of economic matters.. The Archon tells me some of you have taken issue with King Joffrey's recent tariffs on dyed goods from Tyrosh" caster said, leaning forward slightly. Several merchants shift uncomfortably in their seats and exchange wary glances but the man with the jade beard clears his throat, "The new duties have made Tyroshi exports nearly unsellable in King's Landing.. Our dyes are priced out of the market, and the Westerosi merchants now buy inferior Pentoshi products at half the cost" he says and sips some brandy.

"Most unfortunate" the archon said, steepling his fingers. Tyene's eyes sparkle with mischief as she placed her hand lightly on caster's arm, "Perhaps I can offer a solution.. I can send my sisters Obara and Nymeria to speak with my uncle Doran in Sunspear" she said and her voice honey-sweet yet practical as the merchants look at her with greedy interest, "Prince Doran Martell has little love for the Iron Throne but he has always maintained strong trade relations with the Free Cities.. Dorne's ports could serve as an alternative entry point for your goods.. One not subject to King Joffrey's excessive tariffs" she continues and caster silently snorts into his brandy.

"A smuggling operation" one merchant asks cautiously.

"Nothing so crude.. Dorne has certain... Autonomies within the Seven Kingdoms.. My Uncle has long maintained that trade agreements made by the crown don't necessarily bind Dornish ports without his consent" tyene says with a small laugh, the sound like silver bells.

"It would be legal enough.. And potentially more profitable than your current arrangements.. The goods would still reach Westerosi markets.. Just through Dornish intermediaries" caster adds, giving tyene an approving nod.

"Prince Doran is known for his caution.. Would he risk angering the Iron Throne over trade matters" the archon says, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully.

"My Uncle plays a longer game than most realize.. He won't act rashly but he won't miss an opportunity to quietly undermine the Lannisters either.. Especially if it enriches Dorne in the process" tyene replies and drinks some more brandy, "Obara and Nymeria can be quite persuasive when they wish to be.. Between them they can get my uncle's ear" she adds, tracing the rim of her goblet with one slender finger.

"This could solve our immediate concerns while your longer-term negotiations with the Iron Throne proceed" the merchant with the turquoise rings said to caster.

"Precisely… Consider it a gesture of good faith as we formalize our arrangement with Tyrosh.. Sometimes the direct approach requires time.. While alternative paths can yield immediate results" caster says with an amused nod.

"To beneficial partnerships on multiple fronts then" the archon says, raising his goblet slightly. The merchants raise their cups in agreement and caster catches tyene's eye again, her subtle smile told him she is already plotting to use her uncle for her aims. The evening continues long into the night with platters of tyroshi delicacies replacing the empty ones. Honeyed dormice, stuffed lampreys and spiced eels in saffron sauce appear before them, each dish more elaborate than the last. The wine flows freely with golden vintages from the arbor, strong dornish reds and exotic liqueurs from as far east as Yi Ti. Caster eats sparingly and drinks carefully while keeping his wits sharp as the merchants grow increasingly loose-tongued with each cup. The archon practices similar restraint while watching the proceedings with calculating eyes that miss nothing.

"When can we expect the remainder of your forces to arrive" the archon asks quietly during a lull in the conversation.

"Depends on the terrain but they will come.. Daario and my commanders are leading them overland with Daenerys" caster replies, drinking some arbor gold.

"The field commander outside the city walls will have instructions to accommodate your forces" the archon says, seemingly satisfied.

"You're most generous" caster said with a respectful inclination of his head.

"Not generosity.. Practicality.. Twenty thousand well-trained soldiers deserve proper quarters.. Especially when they stand between my city and its potential enemies" the archon says, swirling the amber liquid in his cup. The night deepens as the merchants begins to take their leave one by one, bowing deeply to the archon while offering caster and tyene gestures of newfound respect.

"You've made quite an impression my Lion" tyene murmurs as they depart the archon's palace, escorted by the same guards who had led them in hours earlier.

"We did.. Your suggestion about Dorne was inspired" caster said, offering his arm.

"Obara and Nymeria would be delighted to cause trouble for the Lannisters.. Even in matters of trade" tyene says with a small laugh, taking his arm as they walk through the torch-lit streets back to the prancing stallion.

"And your uncle" caster asks, knowing the man is notorious slow moving.

"Prince Doran plays his own game.. But he'll see the advantage in this arrangement.. Extra coin in Dornish coffers while undermining King's Landing.. He'll agree and he'll take his time doing so to maintain appearances" tyene said with a shrug that makes the moonlight shimmer on her orange dress. The streets were quieter now and the revelry of early evening giving way to the hushed tones of night. They pass a few taverns still spilling light and laughter onto the streets but most establishments have shuttered their windows for the night. They arrive back at the prancing stallion that is still showing signs of life as a few patrons linger in the common room, and the innkeeper nods respectfully as caster and tyene climb the stairs to their chambers.

"Someone awaits us" tyene whispers, see the shadows of candlelight under their door. They enter cautiously with caster pushing the door open by use of his foot while keeping his body angled away from potential danger. They find yara lounging on their bed, covered by nothing but a thin sheet that does little to conceal her athletic form. Her clothes lay discarded on a nearby chair, her boots neatly placed at the foot of the bed.

"Took you long enough.. I was beginning to think you'd spend all night with those perfumed merchants" yara said, propping herself up on one elbow and the sheet slips further to reveal the curve of her breast. Tyene closes the door behind them and the lock clicking into place with a soft sound. "Sorry Greyjoy but business comes first.. How Bold of you to wait for her" she said, her voice carrying amusement rather than rebuke.

"Bold is what kept me alive this long" yara says, her eyes traveling from tyene to caster.

"And what if we had brought company back with us" caster says, unbutton his doublet with a smile.

"Then they'd have gotten quite the show.. Or I'd have slipped out the window.. I'm told I climb like a monkey" yara replies with a laugh and sits up fully now and letting the sheet pool around her waist.

"You're fortunate we returned alone then" tyene says, her fingers working at the laces of her dress and her eyes never leaving yara.

"Fortunate perhaps.. Though I begin to think the fortune is all mine tonight" yara said, watching as tyene's golden dress slide from her shoulders. Caster moves to pour wine for the three of them from a carafe left by the window, "To successful negotiations" he said, offering glasses to both women.

"And to whatever comes next Commander Storm Lion" yara says, taking hers and raising it slightly Caster takes a measured sip and savoring the rich flavor before setting his glass down on the bedside table, "Before we proceed with tonight's... Celebrations.. What news from the harbor" he said, his voice low and deliberate.

"Most men wouldn't be thinking of harbor gossip right now" yara says, arching her eyebrow with mild surprise and leans back against the headboard while unconcerned with her nakedness. Tyene slides onto the bed beside her and the dress now a pool of fabric on the floor, "He's not most men" she said simply, taking a sip from her own glass.

"Fair enough.. I spent some time in a tavern near the docks while you two were dining with the high and mighty.. The usual scuttlebutt mostly trade routes.. Storm warnings.. Which captain's sleeping with whose wife" yara says and swirls the wine in her cup, "But there was one bit that might interest you.. A sailor off a fast ship from King's Landing was deep in his cups.. Telling anyone who'd listen that King Joffrey is dead" she continues and studies caster's face.

"Dead how?!" caster says, his expression unchanged but his mind races with implications.

"Poisoned at his own wedding feast.. If the tale's to be believed.. Clutching his throat.. Face turning purple.. Quite the spectacle apparently" yara continues, watching him carefully.

"His wedding?!" tyene says, pausing her tracing of idle patterns on the sheet.

"The very same.. They says Tyrion Lannister did the deed.. The would be Tyrell Queen not become one and your lady mother…" yara says and pauses for a moment, "In a state beyond grief if you catch my meaning" she adds, looking directly at caster. Caster walks to the window while looking out at the moonlit city, his thoughts on his cruel, petulant brother joffrey dead at his own wedding. The crown suddenly vacate and power shifting in king's landing while he stands an ocean away with twenty thousand swords at his command, also four dragons at his behest.

"Convenient timing" caster muses aloud, turning back to face the women.

"Too convenient to be coincidence" tyene says, her eyes gleaming.

"The Gods do seem to favor your endeavors.. Or someone acting in their stead" yara remarks, raising her glass again.

"Did your drunken sailor mention who stands to inherit now.. Tommen would be next in line… Or me" caster says, returning to their bedside and his mind already calculating the new board.

"He didn't say.. Though he wasn't in a state to remember his own name by the end… But yes.. With you here.. Your younger brother would be the logical successor. A boy who's properly never Fucked a girl would be king once again.. And we all know how well those fare without proper... Guidance" yara replies, drinking more wine.

"This changes things" tyene says, sliding closer to him and her fingers tracing the line of his jaw as she studies his face.

"It just accelerates them… Plans already in motion now have new urgency" caster says, catching her hand and bringing it to his lips.

"So Commander.. Shall we still celebrate.. Or has war planning suddenly become more appealing" yara says, her expression calculating beneath her casual demeanor.

"We can do both.. After all tomorrow brings new challenges.. And we should face them well-rested" caster says, turning to her with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. He loosens his shirt as tyene's hands were already helping with the task. The night passes in a haze of pleasure and brief but fitful sleep as caster wakes before the sun had fully risen, disentangling himself carefully from between yara and tyene. He dresses quietly while sending a servant to summon his comrades for an urgent gather in the private adjacent to the common room. He sits deep in thought with a jug of tyroshi brandy next to him and a meal finished, "I'm the Second Son.. I was Never meant to be King but here I am thinking of going back to claim the Damn Chair" caster thought, his head down and his fingers raking through his hair.

"My Lion" tyene said, entering the chamber fully dressed. Caster looks up and tyene sees the storm in those steel blue orbs but before she could ask, the doors open as jon, sylvie, ulthor, barristan, obara and nymeria enter. Caster waits until all were settled around the table before speaking, "Joffrey is dead… Poisoned at his wedding feast" he states bluntly, before downing some brandy. The reactions were varied as jon's eyebrows rises slightly, while barristan's weathered face remain impassive but his eyes sharpened with interest. Sylvie and ulthor remain quiet but nymeria whistles as the death of a king is a major curiosity, "The Queen Mother will be out for blood… She'll see enemies in every shadow now" obara said, pouring herself some brandy.

"She already suspects her brother Tyrion Lannister and will probably arrest him for it.. Even if he didn't do it" yara adds, entering the room and closing the door firmly behind her.

"The Imp.. That seems... Too convenient" barristan says with a frown.

"You're right it is too convenient.. My uncle is many things but rarely careless.. If he wanted Joffrey dead.. He would have ensured he was far from suspicion" caster says, his finger steepled under his chin.

"Who benefits… Besides us potentially" jon asks quietly, his dark eyes focused on caster.

"The Tyrells" nymeria suggests immediately.

"Not when they about to have a Queen in Margaery… Or they could simply support the true heir… If it were known that you here and command an army..." barristan said, his eyes meeting caster's across the table.

"That's precisely what we must determine… We need to move quickly but intelligently.. This news changes our timeline" caster replies, his eyes scanning the assembled faces.

"How so" barristan asks, his weathered hands resting on the table's edge.

"Once Daario and the other arrive with our forces within a fortnight… I'll sail for Westeros with a small group" caster says, pouring more brandy.

"You mean to enter the lion's den directly" nymeria says, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes.. I need to be on Westerosi soil.. I need to determine how the pieces are falling" caster said, draining his cup of brandy.

"And what of Dorne" obara asks, looking to her sisters.

"That's where you and Nymeria come in… You and Nymeria will sail for Dorne immediately.. Speak with Prince Doran about what Tyene has arranged with the Archon and the Tyroshi merchants.. To see Dorne undercut the Crown" caster said, glancing to tyene.

"Uncle Doran is not easily swayed" nymeria says, caution in her tone.

"He doesn't need to be swayed.. He needs to be placated.. Make it clear that Dorne stands to profit handsomely from this arrangement with minimal risk.. The trade agreements we've secured will fill Dornish coffers while undermining the crown's position" tyene replies with a faint smile.

"We'll leave on the next tide.. The Water Gardens are pleasant this time of year" obara adds with a dangerous smile.

"Remember... We're positioning ourselves advantageously while Joffrey's death throws the capital into chaos" caster says with a cautious tone and all of them nod as it is not a race against time.

-XxX-

Caster stands on the deck of the ship bound for king's landing, his black boots were firmly planted against the gentle sway of the vessel. The familiar coastline of westeros slowly come into view while stirring a whirlwind of emotions within him. His attire is long black trousers tucked into the well-worn boots, a white tunic peeks out from beneath a dark blue jacket, its color reminiscent of the deep waters they now sail. His hands were covered in supple leather gloves, gripping the ship's railing as he leans forward and drinking in the sight of his homeland. A tattered cloak billows behind him in the sea breeze, its frayed edges telling tales of the long journey and countless adventures he experienced during his time away. He is lost in thought and barely notices tyene sidles up next to him and her voice is tinged with curiosity to break through his reverie.

"My Lion" tyene said softly, her dark eyes searching his face.

"Just feeling nostalgic about returning to King's Landing" caster replies, his voice low and measured.

"Yes.. Though I wonder how people will react to seeing Ser Barristan return… I will say your brother and mother were fools to dismiss him from the Kingsguard.. But their loss has been our gain isn't it" tyene says with their gazes returning to the approaching shoreline as her eyes glint in a mixture of admiration and mischief. Caster's lips twitches in a small smile and acknowledging the truth in her words, "Indeed.. Ser Barristan's experience and loyalty has been invaluable to us" he replies with his voice equally soft, "Once we're in King's Landing.. We'll move discreetly.. Once we have a clearer picture of the situation.. Then we can decide our next move" he adds, his steel blue eyes meeting her dark ones.

"As always.. You think three steps ahead my Lion" tyene says, resting her head on his shoulder and a smile on her face.

"In this game we must... Now let's prepare for our arrival.. We have much to do and little time to do it" caster says, allowing himself a brief smile in return. A few days pass and they find themselves in the bustling streets of king's landing. The city's familiar sounds and pungent scents wash over caster, bringing back a flood of memories as he turns to ulthor and sylvie, his voice low and urgent.

"I need you two to seek out our old contacts.. We need to know what's really happening in the city.. Be discreet and meet us back at the inn by nightfall" caster instructs to sylvie and ulthor, his voice low and urgent.

"Consider it done" ulthor says, his deep voice a rumble.

"We'll find out what's what.. Don't you worry" sylvie adds, adjusting her hooded cloak and the pair melt into the crowd.

"Let's make our way to the Red Keep... We need to get closer to the heart of power" caster says while looking to tyene, jon and barristan. They navigate the winding streets of king's landing, the air thick with the scent of baked bread and less savory odors, snippets of hushed conversation reached their ears.

"Caster… The whispers... They're saying Lord Tyrion poisoned King Joffrey.. He's on trial for it" jon whispers, his eyes darting around to ensure no one was listening.

"Which we knew but now he's on Trial.. The Queen mother is looking for a scapegoat" tyene says, as they duck into a quieter alley, away from prying eyes and ears.

"What do you think Caster" jon asks, as caster braces on a wall with his arms folded in his cloak and his eyes closed.

"If Uncle Tyrion is truly on trial.. We'll need more information before we make any moves" caster says, opening his eyes.

"A Wise decision my Prince.. We must tread carefully" barristan says, nodding in agreement.

"I think I should try to find my father.. According to my sister.. He's here with Ellaria for the wedding.. If we information.. He'll know" tyene says, remembering her sisters' raven before they left tyrosh.

"Yes.. He could be a valuable source of information.. But approaching him directly might be too risky and expose us" caster says, his brow furrowing slightly.

"Don't worry my Lion.. I know how to be discreet.. I'll find a way to get a message to him without drawing attention to us" tyene replies, a small smile playing on her lips.

"Are you sure we can find him.. King's Landing is a big city and he's not exactly known for staying in one place" jon asks, shifting slightly and his eyes scanning the area. Tyene's lips curve into a knowing smile and a hint of mischief dancing in her eyes, "Oh I know exactly where to find my father.. He'll be in a brothel somewhere with Ellaria"she said, her voice carrying a touch of amusement.

"Alright.. But be careful Tyene.. We can't afford any missteps now" caster says after weighing their options.

"I always am.. He will know what's really going on here and maybe even more about Tyrion's situation" tyene says with a smile and reaches up to plant a quick kiss on caster's cheek. She slips out of the alley and back into the crowed streets as caster, jon and barristan continue their reconnaissance.

"Let's circle the Keep.. I want to see how much has changed since I left" caster says, glancing to his companions. They continue to walk as barristan keeps a watchful eye on their surroundings, "The city seems more on edge than usual" he says, observing quietly.

"Everyone's whispering but no one dares speak too loudly" jon adds, agreeing with the old knight's assessment. Caster's mind whirl with possibilities as they make their way through the familiar yet changed streets of king's landing.

"Ser Barristan.. Tell me your thoughts on the current state of affairs within those walls" caster said softly as they approach the towering walls of the red keep. The old knight's eyes narrow as he gazes up at the imposing structure, "The balance of power will have shifted dramatically with Joffrey's death.. The Queen Mother will no doubt be grasping for control but Tywin Lannister is not a man to be easily outmaneuvered.. And if Tyrion is on trial… We're stepping into a viper's nest my Prince" he says, shaking his head.

"Then we'll need to be vipers ourselves... Jon keep your eyes and ears open.. Any whisper.. Any rumor could be crucial" caster says nodding his head grimly. They continue their cautious circuit of the keep and caster couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched, more than likely varys' little birds. Barristan's eyes light up with recognition as he spots a small group of guards near a lesser-known side entrance, their postures familiar to him.

"My Prince… I believe I see an opportunity.. Those guards... I trained some of them myself., If there's any loyalty left in the Keep.. It might be found there" Barristan whispers, gesturing for caster to follow him.

"Lead on Ser Barristan.. But let's remain vigilant" caster says with a nod, his heart racing with a mix of anticipation and caution. They approach the guards and they stand a little straighter at the sight of the legendary knight after being dismissed from his post, "Men… It's good to see familiar faces" he said, his voice low but commanding and a hint of warmth in his tone. The guards exchange glances of surprise and respect evident in their eyes, "Ser Barristan.. We... We heard you were dismissed and left King's Landing.. What are you doing here" one says, a grizzled veteran with a thick beard.

"I've returned on important business.. We need to enter the Keep discreetly.. Can I count on your discretion" barristan says, his eyes flicking to caster for a moment as this wasn't their plan but a welcomed opportunity. The guards hesitate as their training wars with their respect for the old knight but it is then that one of them, a younger man with sharp eyes notices caster as the prince removes his hood. His eyes widening in recognition, "W-wait... Is that... Prince Caster" he whispers, his voice a mix of awe and confusion. A tense silence falls over the group as caster steps forward, his posture regal despite the circumstances.

"It is… I've returned to King's Landing.. Your silence and assistance would be greatly appreciated" caster said quietly, his steel blue eyes meeting each guard's gaze in turn. The guards look at each other with a silent conversation passing between them.

"For Ser Barristan... And for you my Prince… But be warned.. The Keep is a different place now.. Treachery lurks around every corner" the grizzled veteran said, his voice barely audible and inclining his head. With practiced efficiency, the guards usher caster, barristan and jon through the side entrance, using their knowledge of the keep's layout to avoid the busier corridors. They move deeper into the castle as caster couldn't help but feel a mix of nostalgia and unease. The familiar stone walls now seem to hold countless secrets and every shadow could hide a potential threat.

"Thank you.. Your loyalty will not be forgotten" caster whispers to the guards as they reach a quieter part of the keep.

"My Prince what happens now.. The Keep... It's not safe.. Especially not for you" the young guard says, his voice trembling slightly. Caster's eyes meet the guard's with his gaze steady and reassuring. He places a hand on the young man's shoulder and feels the tension beneath his palm, "I appreciate your concern… But I will be alright. Now tell me where is Tyrion" he said softly, his voice carrying a quiet confidence. The guard's eyes dart nervously around the corridor before leaning in closer, "Lord Tyrion.. He's… He's in the throne room my Prince.. His trial is happening now" he says with hesitation, swallowing hard. Caster's eyebrows rise slightly and he exchanges quick glances with barristan and jon, their expressions mirroring his own concern.

"The Throne Room… This complicates matters" caster repeats, his voice a whisper and his thoughts a storm.

"My Prince.. Approaching the Throne Room now would be incredibly risky.. The entire court will be present" barristan says, his weathered face creased with worry.

"We'd be walking into a lion's den... Quite literally" jon adds, his hand instinctively moving to the hilt of blackfyre. Caster's eyes narrow as he considers their options and the corridors of the red keep seems to close in around them, the weight of their precarious situation settling heavily on his shoulders. He could almost hear the distant murmur of voices from the direction of the throne room, a reminder of the dangerous game they were playing.

"I will take my chances as I always have.. I have Barristan the Bold and the Jon Snow at my side.. If we can't navigate this situation together.. Then no one can" caster declares finally, his voice low but firm. Barristan's eyes widen slightly with a mixture of pride and concern evident in his weathered features. "My Prince.. I am always honored by your trust but we must consider the risks carefully" he begins, his voice tinged with caution.

"Caster.. I'm with you always.. But are you sure about this.. The Throne Room will be filled with potential enemies" jon says, his hand still resting on the pommel of his sword. Caster places a hand on each of their shoulders with his touch conveying both gratitude and determination, "I understand your concerns but we didn't come all this way to lurk in shadows.. My Uncle's life is in the balance and I must help him in some way" he said softly and looks to the young guard, "Can you get us close to the throne room without being seen" he asks, his steel blue eyes glinting with the same fire that has won him numerous battles.

"Follow me my Prince" the young guard says, his eyes darting between caster and his companions. With cautious steps, the guard leads them through a maze of less-traveled corridors as the stone walls whisper old memories. As they approached the throne room, the distant murmur of voices grow louder and suddenly, the guard halted to press himself against the wall. He gestures for them to stop with his eyes wide, "We're here my Prince.. The throne room is just around this corner" the guard says, his voice a mixture of fear and excitement.

"Thank you.. You've done well.. Now return to your post.. We'll take it from here" caster says, squeezing the guard's shoulder in gratitude. The guard retreats as caster, jon and barristan creep forward but peering around the corner, see no contingent of guards flanking the massive doors of the throne room.

"No guards?!.. That's... Unusual" jon whispers, his brow furrowed in confusion. Caster's eyes narrow as the absence of guards could mean many things, none of them particularly comforting. From beyond the thick wooden doors, they could hear raised voices but the words were muffled.

"Arrogance.. They're so confident in their power.. They've left the very seat of it unguarded" caster mutters, a hint of disgust in his tone.

"Or perhaps they believe no one would dare challenge them here" barristan says with a grim nod. Caster takes a deep breath with his steel blue eyes fixed on the ornate doors before them. He could feel the weight of history pressing down on him, the countless intrigues and power struggles that have played out behind those very doors.

"This is it… The Rouge Prince comes Home" caster said softly, his voice steady despite the tension coiling in his gut. Jon and barristan nod as their faces were set with determination and a courage to fight as their prince's side. Caster steps forward and places his hands on the cool wood of the doors as he could feel the vibrations of the voices within, the pulse of power that thrums through the very stone of the keep. He hesitates for a moment with his fingers tracing the intricate carvings on the door but another deep breath escapes him. He squares his shoulders and prepares to push them open as whatever lay beyond. Be it friend or foe, opportunity or danger, life or death but this moment would change everything.

To be Continued

AN2: I'll end it here with Caster about to step into a mess that is Tyrion's trial. Also in the beginning of the chapter Caster meets a Red Priestess who says he will be the Shield for He Who is Promised and that will play out but not in the way you think or you might, do try to guess. Next chapter picks up with Tyrion calling for a Trial by Combat and His Champion answering. Thank you for reading another long chapter and Would You Kindly Review.