Titus

It was as though the god and goddess were blessing the Black Bolt's voyage home.

The wind had been in their sails ever since they'd embarked from the Scatterlings that morning. There had been no difficult waters to navigate, and the swan ship was practically gliding back to King's Landing.

Titus spent much of that time on the ship's deck, sitting in a chair as he smelled the sea spray, enjoyed the winter sun, and watched for whales and other such creatures.

He'd also set up a little table to his left, with a chair on the other side. A cyvasse board stood ready to be used for anyone that might join him. Once the ship was set on its course, Leroya sat down and played with him until duty called her away again. Eventually, it was Xalonyay who shuffled on deck and sat beside Titus.

"Where have you been?" Titus asked her in the Summer Tongue as she stifled a yawn.

"I had a long night," she answered in the same language. "Entertaining a royal guest with Leroya."

Titus smiled. He certainly hadn't been blind to Aenys' qualities, but he'd strived to keep such notions out of his mind while assessing his potential for the throne. It was also an idle thought regardless; he'd seen how Aenys had smiled at Leroya, and he had never relished competing with his own flesh and blood for someone else's affections.

Xalonyay, meanwhile, groaned as she stretched her back. "So," she asked Titus. "What will happen when we return to the city?"

"I will nominate Aenys Blackfyre to the Great Council," Titus explained, "and then they will decide whether he can present his case. We send word of their answer to Aenys, and then he will either sail back to Essos if they deny safe passage, or sail to King's Landing if they approve. Either way, his fate will be in his own hands."

"Do you think he can convince the council?"

"If they can agree to listen to him, hear him out," Titus mused, "then I daresay he will have a chance. But his name will be a high hurdle for many in that hall."

"Suppose he changes it, then?"

Titus shook his head. "I was not speaking literally."

Xalonyay waved a hand dismissively. "Don't talk to me about literature, Lord Titus!"

At first, he thought he'd misspoken. So convincing was her deadpan delivery that it took Titus a moment to realise what she was doing. "How about you take up where Leroya left off?" He gestured to the cyvasse board.

Xalonyay grinned and put up the screen so that they could each set up their halves of the board. "How many games ahead are you with Roya?"

"You'll have to ask her. I never keep tally," Titus confided.

"Shall I tell her you said that?" Xalonyay chuckled.

Titus waved his hand. "She will surpass me soon enough. She has better teachers, such as yourself."

"Steady on, milord," Xalonyay protested, "I'm only twice as good as you!"

Titus snorted as he reached out and shoved one of her broad shoulders.

Four years before, Leroya had sailed on her first voyage as captain, bringing her brother Baalun to the Summer Isles for his studies and training at the Temple of Love. Upon her return, Xalonyay was in Leroya's company, and it was clear that only Leroya could have brought her from the Summer Isles to Braavos. She had never lacked for courtesy, but she had also been slow to make friends, and she had little interest in Braavos beyond the harbours. It was Leroya whom she adored, and with whom she had gone on adventure and escapade alike.

Now, Xalonyay gave Titus a smile as she removed the screen, beginning the cyvasse game without so much as a word of warning.

Titus studied her side of the board as she made her first move with a crossbowmen piece.

"Tell me, if you will," she now asked as she sat back, "when did you first learn the game?"

"When I was fighting with the Stormbreakers," Titus explained. "There was a hedge knight called Pylos Garner. He was a master at the game, and he was fond of challenging new arrivals to the game."

"Only the new arrivals?" Xalonyay asked as she moved an elephant piece to guard the choke point that she'd created.

"Aye, because everyone else was sick of losing to him."

Xalonyay smirked as she watched Titus move a trebuchet unit to guard his king. "And you? Did you get sick of the game too?"

"Not at all," Titus laughed. "I was desperate to win. After Pylos taught me the rules, I spent hours playing cyvasse with him. I played games with his sons too, especially his youngest." As always, he felt a wave of sadness as he recalled Alyn Garner. He had not been his first squire, but he was the first one who had also been a ward in his care.

"Did you ever beat him?" Xalonyay asked. "Pylos, I mean."

"Nay," answered Titus. "He took a sword cut that rotted before we could bring him to a healer." He almost flinched as he recalled the mewling whimpers of his friend. They reminded him far too much of his own father's death-moans.

Xalonyay nodded as she patted Titus' arm. After a moment, she spoke softly. "Your move, milord."

Grateful for the distraction, Titus sent a light horsemen piece across the divide. "Anyway, I mostly stopped playing it after my exile. Cyvasse is very little known in Westeros, and I was busy enough as Master of Laws."

"What brought you back to it?" Xalonyay asked.

"It was my children who coaxed me back into the game. When Matthias turned ten, Ollo gifted him with a cyvasse board. It was nice to teach him how to play, and his younger siblings after that."

Titus paused as he thought over what he'd said, then looked up at Xalonyay again. "In fact, I think that was when I truly learned to enjoy the game. Because I no longer cared if I won or lost. I simply enjoyed the game for what it was."

Xalonyay's face had become thoughtful, though that was probably due to the fact that Titus had managed to take her dragon piece with a trebuchet ambush. "So, the way to win at cyvasse is to not care if you win?"

"I didn't say that," Titus replied. "If you wish to become a true master of this game, it isn't just about learning the rules and going in with a plan. One must have a special sort of mind, the kind only one in a hundred seem to have. They must be able to read their opponents' minds like a book. They must know their strategies, and have any number of countermeasures in store. They must be determined to win, and above all, they must be determined to see their opponents lose. And such people often relish the sight of their fallen foes, however much they might hide it. You will see it in their eyes when they win, no matter how impassive they try to be."

Xalonyay frowned at those words, and the tone with which Titus had spoken them. "Are such men so rare?"

"The truly successful masters are rare," came Titus' answer, "and not all of them played cyvasse."

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Much to Titus' delight, Baalun was already at the dock when they returned to King's Landing, along with several of the Black Bolt's crewmen that had stayed in the city.

"Welcome back, Papa," Baalun declared as he threw his arms around Titus' shoulders. "Pardon the others, they were waiting here with me as well."

"Where are they now?" Titus asked. "Did something happen?"

"Well, I dunno where Miru's at. She and Tidir went back up to the castle on… well, that's another story. Anyway, Matthias went to go fetch her and Sadog when I spotted your sails. Oh, and Sadog asked Nosipho to escort that girl of his to the market, and they're still away."

"No matter," Leroya interjected. "We have to bring you back to your chambers anyway. Go and find the others and bring them there too. We have important matters to discuss."

Thus it came to pass that Titus donned heavy robes that shrouded his face. Two of Leroya's Braavosi-born crew members escorted him to Maegor's Holdfast, where he changed back into his usual clothes.

As agreed, Leroya and Baalun waited some time before making their own way to the castle. This led to Miru, Sadog, and Matthias reaching Titus' chamber before the others did.

"Welcome back, Father," Miru told Titus as she embraced him, but it seemed to Titus that her words and her smile were somewhat strained.

"Is something the matter?" He asked her after he'd greeted Sadog and Matthias.

Miru shook her head and said no more on the matter, though she seemed to keep her distance from Sadog. Titus reluctantly put it aside for the nonce, as he did not wish to interrogate her on the matter.

"How did you fare, my son?" He asked Matthias.

"It went well enough," Matthias admitted. At once, Miru stepped in. "He was marvellous! Prince Aegon even stood up to applaud his speech!"

"Wonderful," Titus exclaimed, beaming with pride. "Leroya was sure that you would show them what for."

Matthias shrugged modestly, but when Leroya and Baalun joined them, he was the first to embrace his younger sister.

After Baalun made a loud show of praising how well Titus had recovered, the children went silent as they waited for Titus to speak on the subject of Aenys.

"On the morrow," Titus explained, "I must retake my place at the council." He gave a small smile to emphasise the unspoken truth.

"So be it, then," Sadog remarked softly. Like Miru, he too seemed distracted and detached, but Titus knew that he would follow Miru's example and deny that something was amiss.

"Nothing else to say, then?" Baalun ventured, seemingly unable to curb his curiosity.

"I've only just recovered," Titus reminded his son. "Mayhaps on the morrow, after the council."

"Very well," Matthias affirmed. "Is there anything you need of us?"

"Not for now," Titus replied. "But what of you? Is there anything I ought to know?"

His children were silent for a moment. Aside from Leroya, they shifted where they stood and looked uncomfortable. Titus felt himself growing uneasy just looking at them.

"Well," Sadog began hesitantly, "I suppose the first thing is that we spoke to Jena." He gave a helpless shrug. "She was very upset."

Titus had been afraid of that, but he was confident that he could make Jena understand. "I will speak to her after the council, then."

They spoke of more which had transpired since Titus and Leroya's departure. Miru spoke in greater detail of Matthias's speech, and Sadog spoke of the attempt to have Aemon give up his holy vows.

Then it was Matthias' turn to speak. "There's something else, Father. Miru and I met a maester called Lyman."

By the time he was finished, Titus was bereft of words. He was embroiled in terrible memories which he had thought were banished from his mind.

Royce Storm had been a bastard of Blackhaven, the alleged son of Jena's eldest brother Edmund, whom he'd barely known at all before his violent demise. Royce had been accused, and very nearly executed, for the murder of Maester Gerold. He had taken his own revenge against House Dondarrion over the following years; not only had he claimed to have helped torture Aliandra Dalt to death, but he'd also murdered two of Titus' nephews, his cousin Jocelyn, and his elder sister Cassana.

Titus would never forgive such wicked deeds, but he could not deny his own part in Royce's downfall. It had been he, after all, who had destroyed his father's will, the one which had made Royce an heir in Titus' place. It had been he and Maester Gerold who had murdered his father, causing Cassana to murder Gerold in return and use the chaos to do away with Royce, Tyana, and the babe in Tyana's belly. Before Gerold's murder, it was assumed that Tyana's babe had been fathered by her husband, Arlan Dondarrion. Then Royce had openly bragged of being Tyana's lover. Since both the supposed fathers were Dondarrion by blood, it was impossible to determine the truth. Titus had already been exiled when Tyana's execution was carried out, and he'd never bothered to inquire after the babe who might have been his brother's child.

It had taken a long time for Titus, but he had made his peace with what had happened. He had strived for decades to become a better man, to raise his children far from Westeros, protecting them as much as he could.

In all that time, he had entirely forgotten about Tyana's child. He had always known that she'd been sentenced unjustly; Cassana had confessed as much when she'd confronted him on the death of their father. Titus had received a punishment for his crime, albeit a generous one from King Daeron, but he had kept Cassana's secret all the same.

"This cannot wait," Titus finally admitted. He slowly arose to his feet before turning to Miru and Matthias. "Would you take me to him?"

"That may be unwise, Father," Miru warned.

"Nobody will suspect anything," Titus reassured her. "I have recovered from-"

"You mistake me," Miru interrupted. "Maester Lyman did not take it well when we told him the truth of his parentage. He may not wish to see you."

"That will be his right," Titus declared. "But whether he wishes to speak with me or spit in my face, I will not hide from him."

And so he went, with Matthias and Miru reluctantly leading him to that part of the castle where the Valemen were being housed.

He was confident that the Royce household would still be in their apartments, as there was still some time before the evening meal. Sure enough, when he knocked on their door, it was promptly opened by a man who bore their ancient bronze sigil.

"My name is Titus Dondarrion," he declared, "and I wish to speak with Maester Lyman, if your lord would permit it."

A look of surprise came upon the man's face, and he suddenly stepped back. Titus heard the man calling something out, though he couldn't be sure which words he used.

He turned to Miru and Matthias, but they simply looked morose and refused to meet his eyes.

The door swung open again, revealing Lord Ellard Royce. Tall enough to look Titus full in the face, his eyes burned with a rancour that shocked Titus.

"What sort of game are you playing?" He demanded gruffly.

Titus frowned, but he remained calm. "I don't know what you mean, Lord Ellard."

The Valeman snorted. "Oh no? Why don't you ask your sister, then?"

"Have a care," Titus warned quietly. "My sister was a princess when you were soiling your swaddling clothes."

"Be that as it may," Royce growled, "she came here and spoke with my maester. I don't know what she said to him, but it left him sour and silent. Now he's disappeared!" He lifted up his hand, revealing a maester's chain.

Titus heard Miru gasp behind him. "That is news to us, my lord," he declared. "When did this happen?"

"Last night. He's been missing since the morn. I've already reported him to the Faith and the goldcloaks."

Titus felt grim. Lyman would surely be executed for this transgression. If they catch him, anyway.

Lord Royce was not finished, however. "Since you came all this way, I won't have you leave empty-handed." He thrust the chain towards Titus, who reflexively clutched at it with his own hands.

He stared down at the chain as the door slammed shut in front of him. There were a variety of links, as befitting a well-studied maester, and Titus still recalled what some of those links signified. Five silver links for healing, a pewter link, four cobalt links for sailing and seamanship, two iron links for war, a black iron link, two yellow-gold, one lead…

"Father?"

Titus sighed as he turned to Matthias. "There's nothing more to be done here. Let's go back."