A Song of Ice and Fire Cut Short by Dust (RWBY in Westeros)

Chapter 17: The Trial

'Popular history maintains that the Four Maidens fought for justice whenever they were called upon. That is, at least to a significant part, a myth propagated by the modern incarnation of the Ruby Order, which was founded on said myth. No serious student of history would believe those claims - first of all, because what we consider just has changed quite significantly in the centuries since the Four Maidens visited Westeros. And while we have multiple sources that confirm that the Four Maidens' views of justice differed, sometimes quite strongly, from the common view at the time, assuming that they shared the modern values many associate with them would be a mistake. The modern judicial system developed over time and keeps evolving as society changes. And while it is true that the few stances of the Ruby Order in that field that can be confirmed with reliable certainty do mirror some of what today are seen as the basic rights and duties that shape our society, one has to keep in mind that most laws and customs have to adhere to similar basic principles for a working society. Nevertheless, even with the strict standards applied to those sources, the Ruby Order's views of justice were very progressive compared to the norms of their time.'

• A Treatise On The Ruby Order, by Maester Kennet Bracken

The Red Keep, King's Landing, Crownlands, Westeros, 298 AC

Ellaria Sands had a smile on her face when she walked up on Team Ruby, her arm hooked into Oberyn's. A friendly smile, not a seductive smile. Maybe a bit flirty, but nothing more - she had a reputation to uphold, after all. But nothing more because despite their very daring clothes - they either showed more skin than even most Dornish women would show in public or were so tight, they seemed glued to the girl's curves, such as there were - the girls were obviously not looking for a lover or an affair. At least, it was obvious to her - Oberyn disagreed.

"A very good morning to you, my ladies!" he said, bowing in the manner of a Braavosi courtier. "You make the sun pale in comparison today."

Ellaria mirrored him with her own bow as if they were standing in the palace of the Sealord instead of a training ground in the Red Keep.

"Ah… good morning, my prince!" Lady Ruby replied. "And, ah, thanks!" she added, with a nervous smile and her hand rubbing the back of her head.

"We're flattered," Lady Weiss added with a much more polite smile.

The girl was not only older than the leader of her group, but also far more used to this dance, Ellaria noted.

Lady Blake nodded, as did Lady Yang, the latter looking a bit subdued, in Ellaria's opinion. Coupled with the fact that she had all but fled the feast last night, when Prince Joffrey had told her she'd killed a thug who had accosted her, it didn't take much to come to the conclusion that the news had profoundly shaken her. It must have been the first time she had killed.

The girls are more sheltered than they looked, Ellaria thought. And they were girls - the rumour that they were ancient crones using vile magic to hide their true appearances was obviously a fabrication made up by their enemies to damage their reputation. Probably by the Queen herself; the entire court knew that she loathed Team Ruby, jealous of their friendship with the King and envious of their beauty, She wasn't shy about it, either - to the point that people were starting to wonder if things might escalate and to worry about being caught in the conflict. One of the Queen's handmaidens apparently had left abruptly after the tourney, and some of the people with whom Ellaria had chatted last night had been speculating that the lady had abandoned her Queen out of fear - the first of more.

"So, you train daily?" Oberyn asked, making a show of looking over the training yard - which belonged to the Kingsguard, Ellaria realised.

"Yes!" Lady Ruby nodded, smiling widely.

"We are supposed to, at least," Lady Weiss added with raised eyebrows.

Lady Ruby pouted, which made her look even younger. "Sometimes, things come up."

"Or they stay in bed."

"That happened one time! One time!" Lady Ruby puffed her cheeks up, which made her look adorable - and younger than Ellaria's eldest.

"You're our leader; it shouldn't happen even just once." Weiss sniffed.

Lady Ruby huffed. "I'll hold you to that when I have to wake you up at dawn!"

Ellaria laughed with everyone else when Lady Weiss didn't seem to have an answer to that. Yes, Lady Ruby's father had chosen the companions for his heir with great care. Lady Weiss obviously had been tasked to teach her how to handle other nobles and navigate a court. Lady Yang, half-sister of a concubine or second wife, legitimate but not the first in the line of succession according to her sources, was her guard, meant to draw attention and be obvious - the sword of her sister. And Lady Blake was the dagger. As dangerous, or more so, but more restrained - in public. All of them older than their charge, more experienced, yet not so much older that Lady Ruby would feel excluded or isolated.

And unless Ellaria had completely misjudged the girls, Lady Ruby would not only be well-trained as heiress but also have loyal friends and companions when she was old enough to rule. Her lands were blessed with a good lord.

"So…" Oberyn, always less patient, looked around again. "I remember you offering to spar with me. Since no one else seems to be using it, shall we?"

Lady Ruby nodded several times. "That's why we're here so early, before the Kingsguard arrives. But we'll have to warm up first. And, uh, you probably should wear some armour," she added with a wince and a glance at her sister.

"It is merely sparring; armour would slow me down too much - you're not wearing armour either, after all," Oberyn replied. His ego wouldn't take well to fighting unarmoured girls while wearing armour himself, either, Ellaria knew.

"Uh, we're always armoured." Ruby winced again. "That's where Ser Barristan usually comes in, to demonstrate."

Ellaria had heard about that last night as well. Ser Barristan's reputation spoke for itself, and yet… The Kingsguard served the King above all. If the King demanded that he'd play along, he would do it - his brothers had done much worse in the past at their King's command.

"So… stab me in the face," Lady Ruby told Oberyn. "As hard as you can. With your spear."

"Pardon?" Oberyn blurted out, and Ellaria gasped. They couldn't be serious.

"I said stab me in the face," Lady Ruby repeated herself. "It's the best way to show you that we don't need armour and that you can't really hurt us."

Ellaria remembered hearing about such demonstrations, but she had dismissed them as exaggerations. She had never heard of magic that would render someone invulnerable. Of course, she wasn't an expert, but Oberyn looked baffled as well.

"My lady, I would never do that!" He shook his head. "To ruin your face would be unforgivable!" he added, recovering some of his usual roguish charm.

"Oh, fuck this!" Lady Yang suddenly spat. "Watch this!" She turned and walked to the wall behind them.

"Yang!"

"Yang, what are you…"

Before her friends could stop her, Lady Yang craned her neck, then rammed her head face-first into the stone wall. Hard enough to startle a crow that had been watching them from the top of the battlement to fly into the air.

Ellaria gasped again. That noise! The girl must have broken…

…the wall? She blinked and stared at the slight crater left in the stone, and the shards and splinters on the ground as Lady Yang turned with a snort, her face untouched.

She walked up to Oberyn with narrowed eyes. "Are you gonna get on with the program and stab Ruby in the face now?" She asked, staring right up into Oberyn's face. "If you still think this is a trick or whatever, I'll break the tip of your spear with my face."

Oberyn stared at her, then glanced at the other girls and Ellaria.

She forced herself to smile as if she hadn't been shocked by the events and nodded. "Please do, my love, or we might be waiting and arguing all morning."

"Very well." Oberyn nodded, then twirled his spear before leveling it at Lady Ruby. "Ready?"

"Yes."

Oberyn hesitated a moment, but then he struck - and he didn't hold back, aiming straight for the girl's forehead. The tip of his spear hit her, but half-bounced, half-slid off without leaving the slightest mark on her skin.

"Great!" Lady Ruby beamed. "Now, let's spar!" She jumped an impossible distance back and unfolded an equally impossible scythe in the blink of an eye.

If not for her shock - the tales about their magic and powers were all true! - Ellaria would have laughed at Oberyn's expression.

But her lover recovered quickly, nodded, and stepped up with a smile only Ellaria recognised as forced.

Then the sparring began.


The Red Keep, King's Landing, Crownlands, Westeros, 298 AC

"So, the tales were true. All of them," Ellaria said once they were back in their quarters.

"So it seems," Oberyn said.

She raised her eyebrows at him. "They demonstrated all their 'Semblances'." And you never managed to even scratch any of them, she added silently.

"Yes. That doesn't mean they are truly immune to any harm," Oberyn said with a slight pout.

She knew what he meant: Poison. "It would have to be ingested," she said.

"Of course." He snorted and ran a finger over the tip of his spear. "Even resharpened, this won't pierce their skin. Nor would any dagger."

"Not that we have any reason to make enemies out of them," she went on. "Not when they are about to bring one of your sister's murderers to justice." The Mountain would stand no chance; they knew that now. His fate was sealed.

He nodded. "And with my reputation, I would be the main suspect if they were poisoned."

Oh, yes. Ellaria pressed her lips together. Anyone who wished the girls ill would see the opportunity as well. "Best keep antidotes ready, then."

He nodded and sat down in the seat in the corner with a sullen expression, his spear resting across his thighs.

She suppressed a sigh and joined him, pushing the spear's shaft away and letting it drop to the floor so she could slide into his lap. "Are you still planning to seduce them?"

"No. Doran would be very cross with me if I did that," he said with a twisted smile. "Unless I managed to marry the girl afterwards." He laughed at the very thought of that.

She laughed as well. However, she couldn't help feeling concerned. For as long as she had known him, she had known that Oberyn hadn't had any intention to marry her - he hadn't had any desire to marry anyone, and his brother couldn't force him. But the girls' power changed that. For such a prize, even her lover would marry.

And how could she resent him for that? Those girls represented a power equal to the dragons of the former royal family. Maybe even greater.

And they were aligned with the Fat King, who had laughed at the death of Oberyn's kin.


The Red Keep, King's Landing, Crownlands, Westeros, 298 AC

Ruby Rose was still in high spirits when they returned to their room. That had been a nice sparring session! First, with Oberyn, then with the Kingsguard. And Oberyn was very good! "Did you see how he moved his spear? He really knows how to wield it! I need to learn how to do that with my baby!" she blurted out when she sat down on the bed and stretched.

Weiss was frowning at her, she realised. But why?

Blake smirked.

And Yang shook her head. "Not the best way to phrase it, sis."

Ruby frowned. What were they…? Oh! She blushed. "I didn't mean it that way!" She pouted at the giggling Yang. Not too much, though. Her sister cracking jokes was a good thing; she had been very down after hearing that she had killed a creep. Even if it had been an accident and the guy had attacked her, that was not something you could shrug off easily. Or should shrug off easily.

But she'd have to keep watching that her big sister wouldn't start drinking like Uncle Qrow. That would be… very bad. Uncle Qrow was great, but he drank too much. And not to have fun, like some of the students at Beacon did.

He said he drank so he wouldn't think or something. Ruby wasn't an expert - she wasn't even a good team leader yet - but she knew that she couldn't let Yang do the same.

"Anyway, it was a good sparring session," she said.

Everyone agreed with that.

"Even if you sliced that poor bird in half," Weiss said.

Ruby frowned. "It should have known better than to fly so close!" That wasn't her fault.

"It wasn't close." Weiss shook her head. "You swung your scythe too far."

"I needed the momentum," Ruby said. You couldn't power through Yang's guard otherwise. "Anyway. It was nice. And Obyeryn didn't hit on us as much as he did last night." That had been uncomfortable. He was old enough to be her dad! And Ellaria was old enough to be her mom! They shouldn't hit on Ruby's team!

"They did show more restraint today," Blake agreed.

Weiss scoffed. "They still hit on us."

Blake shrugged. "They were flirting, but I don't think they were serious."

"I've been hit on harder by students at Signal," Yang said with a snort and a smirk.

Ruby frowned a little. Yang was trying to act normal, but Ruby could tell that she was still worked up. The smirk was just a bit off, and she sounded a bit forced - a shade too loud.

"Well, they're from Dorne," Weiss said. "You know their reputation - and Prince Oberyn is widely known as a womaniser."

That didn't mean he is a womaniser, Ruby thought. Though he acted like one. But… "You can't assume they're correct about Dorne, though. They have some weird views here. Like…" She trailed off and bit her lower lip. Dang! She had almost stepped into it! She glanced at Yang and winced.

Yang snorted again, but without any humour. "Yeah. Wear a combat outfit and they think you're a prostitute."

Ruby was so dumb! She shouldn't have let her mouth run free like that and remind Yang of that incident! How could she fix it? She should apologise!

Blake spoke up before Ruby could find the right words. "The locals do have some strict views about how to act and dress. But they're hypocrites about them. The brothels in the city are thriving."

"Well, they're run by the Master of Coin," Yang said. "Who would want to go against him?"

"I don't think that's widely known - we would have heard about it otherwise," Weiss said. "He is from a very low-ranking noble family, and he must have made a lot of enemies during his time in one of the highest and most profitable offices in the kingdom. I doubt he would stay in office if he were known as a brothel owner; the nobles already look down on merchants and business owners and consider it shameful if a noble engages in trade. No wonder Braavos dominates the banking business and trade; Westeros actively disincentives economic growth!"

That meant… something negative. Ruby nodded; that was dumb.

"On the other hand, the King might consider him his new best friend if he knew," Yang commented with another snort that sounded a bit too sharp.

"I doubt that," Weiss disagreed in the clipped tone she used when she was annoyed.

Time to step in. "Well, we can't ask him what he thinks without exposing Baelish," Ruby said. "But would that be bad?"

Weiss narrowed her eyes at her. "Forcing the council member responsible for the realm's finances out of office?"

"Yes?" Ruby didn't wince and cringe. "If he's a bad person?" Pimps were bad persons.

"We don't know enough to judge the situation," Weiss replied. "Not yet. And if we were to expose him, people would assume we were plotting to take over his position - or supported whoever wanted to replace him."

"What?" Ruby frowned. "Why would they think that?"

"Because that's what they would be doing in our place," Weiss said.

"That's what they know," Blake added. "Everyone at court - with the possible exception of Ser Barristan and maybe others from the Kingsguard - is always plotting."

That sounded like a terrible way to live to Ruby.

"Like the King's spymaster," Yang said. "There's no way he doesn't know about Baelish's brothels - not with so many children acting as his spies in the walls and on the streets. But he hasn't exposed him yet."

"He might be paid off," Weiss said.

"Or he's using this to blackmail Baelish," Blake added. "Or saving it so he can release it if he suddenly needs to get rid of Baelish."

That sounded even worse! "Is everyone here playing a sick game?" Ruby asked. And she had thought having to fend off marriage proposals from everyone was bad!

"Yes. It's called politics," Yang said.

"That's overly simplifying it. Politics is not a sick game - but too many politicians treat it as such," Weiss said.

"Can we get back to deciding what to do about Baelish?" Ruby asked.

"We'll look into his businesses," Blake said. "If he's abusing his employees, we'll put a stop to it."

Ruby nodded. They wouldn't let him abuse people. Not on her watch.

"And it goes without saying that we'll have to reconsider everything he told us," Weiss said. "Or that he won't steal our money."

"Technically Blake's," Yang said with a grin. An honest grin, Ruby noted.

"You know what I mean!" Weiss complained.

They were right, though. "We need to increase our security again," Ruby said.

"We already did what we could to deter thieves," Weiss said.

Ruby knew that. But there had to be something else they could do. She was sick of being unable to do something when everyone else was plotting. And they had to prepare for the trial too!


The Red Keep, King's Landing, Crownlands, Westeros, 298 AC

While she had her glass refilled by a servant - she was watching her intake, but another glass of this exquisite vintage wouldn't affect her wits - Weiss Schnee fixed her most polite smile on her face as she spotted Baelish approaching her. She was aware that those sitting in glass houses shouldn't be throwing stones, but for all the pain and misery her father had brought upon Remnant by his policies leading the SDC, he hadn't stooped as low as to engage in prostitution. Of course, she was also aware that the only reason he hadn't was that to be known as a pimp would have ruined his reputation in Atlas's high society. If it were acceptable amongst his peers, he would have jumped with both feet into the business, probably as another way to exploit the SDC employees, both as staff and customers in company-run brothels, so he could maximise his profits and avoid dealing with outsiders. It would allow him to further tighten his grip on those who were slaves in all but name.

It also said something about Weiss's education as heiress that she was able to run the numbers of such a disgusting business, and nothing good.

"Good evening, Lady Weiss." Baelish bowed his head and smiled at her. "Are you enjoying the feast?"

"I am," she lied. At best, it was a distraction from the current troubles of her team. Yang was still struggling with her unfortunate killing of that rapist, the upcoming trial not helping matters, and Archmaester Marvyn still hadn't found anything promising in the royal library. She had just left her friends to refill her glass and wasn't in any mood to deal with this… flesh peddler.

"I am happy to hear that. I am very busy handling the aftermath of the tourney, but I wouldn't have missed this for anything." He toasted her with his own glass. "The King certainly hasn't shied away from paying for the very best."

She made an agreeing but noncommittal noise as she took a sip of her own glass. Was that a compliment for the vintage - or a veiled insult aimed at her team by implying that they had been bought? She leaned towards the former, if only because there was no reason for Baelish to insult Team RWBY. And he would have to have a very low opinion of Weiss and her friends - and a very high one of himself - if he thought they would miss such an insult. Of Weiss herself in particular - she had no doubt that her exchanges with the Queen were well-known by now, especially since she hadn't been invited to the Queen's soirees since the tournament.

And, speaking of the Queen, Weiss noted that one of her ladies-in-waiting, Lady Lyra, hadn't been seen since the tourney, either. Had the noblewoman grown tired of the Queen's childish grudge? Or, more concerning, had whatever the Queen was planning - nobles at court were always planning and plotting - spooked her into leaving? Weiss would have to keep a closer eye on the woman.

"At least, the upcoming trial won't strain the royal coffers," Baelish joked. "Well, as long as Lord Tywin doesn't take offence at one of his bannermen facing justice. The King owes him a fortune, and Lord Tywin is known to carry grudges forever."

"You would know that better than I do, having never met the man," she replied.

"Oh, Tywin Lannister's reputation precedes him; many in King's Landing have never forgotten nor forgiven how his soldiers sacked the city after entering under false pretenses. Of course, since most of the victims were smallfolk, their murderers won't ever face a trial."

Weiss cocked her head to the side and acted as if this were news to her. "Lord Tywin hasn't disciplined them? I heard he ran his House with an iron fist." Lord Tyrion had used a slightly obscene term, but the sentiment was the same.

"Oh, he does - which is why so many believe he deliberately let his soldiers off the leash. On the other hand, it's well-known that during sacks, discipline is quickly lost." Baelish shrugged. "Not that anyone will openly question him; his family is too powerful. Why, his daughter is the queen, his grandsons princes, and his son a Kingsguard! Who would dare to risk their ire?"

"Prince Martell, I believe," Weiss answered his rhetorical question.

He chuckled. "Oh, yes, but he might be the only one who would."

"I think Lord Eddard would as well, if there is good reason to question Lord Tywin," she added. "He doesn't strike me as a man who would let fear of retaliation keep him from doing his duty."

"Oh, I think he's quite a bit more willing to bend the rules compared to Lord Stannis. The King's brother would likely kill himself if he considered it his duty. I believe Lord Stark would never go as far as to risk his family. Are you familiar with 'The Rains of Castamere', my lady? Lord Tywin had it written and performed to celebrate the deliberate drowning of House Reynes, bannermen of his who had dared to oppose him. None of them was spared, nobles and servants alike. Not even children."

Weiss scowled for a moment - she had listened to the song. And verified the events behind it. Then she nodded. "That seems to be a theme here."

Baleish looked confused for a moment before he smiled. "I fear so. But I am but the Master of Coin, not the Master of Law - or the King himself. Granting justice is not within my power."

Weiss made another vaguely agreeing noise. Baelish must be aware of the Queen's hostility. Why did he seem to want to make them even more biased against House Lannister? What were his goals with that?

They would have to look into that as well. The pile of tasks they had to do kept growing.


The Red Keep, King's Landing, Crownlands, Westeros, 298 AC

"Hello!"

"Greetings, Lord Eddard."

"Good morning, Lord Eddard."

"Yo!"

The King's Hand looked very tired, Weiss noted when they entered his office. Still, he rose and bowed his head to them. "Good morning, my ladies."

"Hello!"

"Hi!"

Arya and Bran greeted them as well - they had been playing with what looked like carved figurines in a corner of the office.

Good morning, my ladies!" Lady Sansa curtsied, one hand holding her needlepoint kit.

For a moment, Weiss felt both envious and sad. Father would have never tolerated her or her siblings playing in his office - not unless he wanted to put up a front as a loving family man for a naive visitor. But that wasn't the fault of the kids, so she smiled at them.

And beamed at the puppies. They were as fluffy and adorable as ever, and had even grown some more - if not for her Aura-enhanced strength, she would have been buried under them when they came to greet her. Which, in hindsight, would have been worth it.

But they were here for an important discussion - several, actually - so she straightened her skirt after petting the furballs, schooled her features, ignored the grins in Ruby and Yang's faces - Blake was at the window, acting as if she were checking for spies while avoiding the wolves - and cleared her throat. "Lord Eddard, thank you for receiving us. We have a few questions."

She saw him tense for a moment before he nodded and turned to his children. "Sansa, Arya, Bran. Please go to your rooms."

Weiss wanted to blurt out that the kids could stay, but this was better discussed in private.

Once the kids had left, Lord Eddard nodded. "What were your questions?"

To the point as always, Weiss noted.

"Well…" Ruby glanced at Blake. "We have a few questions about the realm's finances. And the treasure chamber."

Weiss nodded. They had to be subtle about this. They couldn't just expose, much less accuse, Baelish. Not without knowing more about the whale situation. "There are rumours that the realm is heavily indebted to House Lannister and the Iron Bank."

"That is true." Lord Eddard winced. "It's quite a large sum."

Weiss nodded. "But how large is it in relation to the kingdom's earnings?"

The puzzled frown on Lord Eddard's face didn't fill her with confidence that she'd like the answer.

"I would have to ask the Master of Coin about that; Lord Baelish handles that. He is quite skilled at handling money."

Yes, Weiss didn't like that answer. "And who checks his books?"

"He has trusted clerks for that."

Weiss suppressed a wince. So much for independent auditors. She could offer to take a look… No, that would be premature. Best see if they could take a look at the official books unofficially. Making copies of the records might be worth using a scroll. "Thank you. We have another question, though it's a little delicate." That was putting it mildly. She glanced at Ruby.

"Yes?" Lord Eddard tensed again.

"What's the deal about brothels?" Ruby blurted out.

Weiss closed her eyes while Lord Eddard stared at the rapidly blushing Ruby. That could have gone better. "We noticed that there are several brothels in the city, and we wonder about their legal status."

"Ah…" Lord Eddard looked embarrassed as well. "That is… They are tolerated. Their business is not outlawed, but it's not… honourable."

So, that confirmed that if running a business was already considered beneath a noble, engaging in that particular trade would be seen as much, much worse. So, why would Baelish risk everything he had earned to engage in that business? Was it that profitable? Or was there something else behind this? Was Baelish blackmailing selected customers of his brothel? But he would risk exposing himself that way…

She would have to discuss this with the others once they were in a place without spies listening in. For now, she had a few more questions about this particular local custom.


Street of Silk, King's Landing, Crownlands, Westeros, 298 AC

Hanging upside down, Blake Belladonna peered through the window on the upper floor of the brothel. Baelish hadn't gone out of the Red Keep today to check his business, instead staying in his official office. Blake had considered sneaking into his office, but she didn't think he was as careless as leaving incriminating evidence there for any spy to find.

And with him doing his actual work, it meant his office in his brothel was empty - and the odds of finding any proof of his, so far solely suspected, crimes were much better there. Or would be, if his office were actually empty instead of being occupied by the man he had been giving orders to the first time she had followed him to this place.

This must be the strawman he was using to run the brothel, she realised as she watched him do paperwork at the desk with apparent familiarity. Officially, the brothel would belong to this man. Most employees would probably think he was the true owner as well - Blake didn't think Baelish would trust a brothel's staff to keep such a secret for him. Even if he treated them well, it would take only one angry employee to ruin him.

And, judging by what she had seen in the other rooms, when they weren't occupied by a customer, Baelish didn't treat his employees that well - although she was ignorant of what was normal for such business in King's Landing, so he might be a model employer by local standards. Still, women crying in private and men drinking heavily might be normal for a business here - she had seen merchants hit their staff as well, and in supposedly respectable trades - but it certainly wasn't the sign of a model employer.

Still, she had seen - well, heard of - worse such business as well, and that had been in Remnant. Not that that excused what Baelish was doing - what they knew so far. She was about to pull up and check another window or two on the way back to the Red Keep when the door was opened and a man entered.

Her ears twitched as she listened.

"Mors!"

"What is it, Tarber? I am busy!"

The man, obviously named Mors, was, consciously or not, imitating how Baelish had treated him, Blake realised with some faint amusement.

"There was another of those urchins hanging around the place."

Urchins? Blake frowned. If they were hurting children - or doing something worse - she would have to intervene.

"A mute one?"

"Couldn't catch'em to check, Mors. They were watching me before I spotted them and gave me the slip."

Mors grunted. "Were you drunk?"

"No!" Taber replied a bit too vehemently, and too hastily, in Blake's opinion.

But Mors nodded. "Then it was one of them. Slippery bastards." He grunted again. "Tell the men to cast a wider net. Can't have spies watching our business. Customers wouldn't like it if anyone knew them."

"Yes, Mors!"

Mute spies… Blake frowned as she pulled up and sneaked across the roof again. Mute urchins acting as spies. Like the one she had caught trying to pick her pockets. Was it the same child? But the brothel manager had talked as if there were more of them. Once is coincidence, twice is…

She pressed her lips together as she jumped off the brothel's roof across the narrow street below. If someone was mutilating kids to use as spies, she would put an end to that sick practice.


The Red Keep, King's Landing, Crownlands, Westeros, 298 AC

"Ser Gregor Clegane, you stand accused of having killed your guard, Joff of Lannisport, in a fit of rage, and of having attacked Lady Blake Belladonna when she called for the guards to arrest you. What do you say to this?"

The King sounded… annoyed to be here, Blake thought. Certainly not eager, unlike the Prince who was leaning forward on his seat. Or his Sworn Sword - Sandor glared daggers at his brother. And Prince Oberyn mirrored Prince Joffrey's pose and eager expression as he stared at the accused.

She could understand Prince Oberyn's attitude; Ser Gregor had brutally raped and murdered his sister and massacred her children. And Ser Gregor had disfigured Sandor and murdered their sister, at least according to Sandor. But Prince Joffrey? He had also been very enthusiastic about the death of the wanna-be rapist who had insulted and attacked Yang.

"I demand a trial by combat!" Ser Gregor, wearing chains thick enough to hold a horse, and dressed in clothes that hadn't been changed since Blake had taken him down two weeks ago, spat. Literally - she could see some spittle hit the floor. And the sheer hatred and rage in his eyes when he looked at her…

She narrowed her eyes and slightly raised her chin. "As his accuser, I stand ready to face him."

"Well, that simplifies things," the King said. "We don't have to go through the whole thing and can go straight to the fight."

"As if anyone had expected anything else," Yang whispered next to Blake.

"He didn't have to call for the trial by combat straight away," Weiss commented in a low voice on her other side. "He could have waited for the result of the formal trial before calling for a trial by combat."

Blake didn't think Ser Gregor could have waited. Even if he hadn't spent two weeks in a cold, damp cell, which wouldn't have helped anyone's mood, the man just seemed to be too angry for any restraint or patience. And unlike someone else she knew who was too often driven by his anger and hatred, Ser Gregor lacked the self-control to keep his temper in check in crucial situations.

"So, let's move this to the yard!" the King stood and started walking towards the doors. Everyone but the Kingsguard waited for him to leave first, of course, before stepping out themselves. That allowed Blake to keep an eye on Ser Gregor until he was led away. If he tried to flee, she could stop him. It would be his best chance to escape, she knew.

But she doubted he realised it. He seemed fixated on her - even when he was led outside, behind her, she could almost feel his glare on her.


"Looks like the tourney wasn't enough for half the city."

Blake softly snorted. Yang was wrong - the crowd watching the trial filled the courtyard, but it was hardly half the city. And yet, she was also right in a way; Blake was certain that for many in the audience, this was entertainment. Just like the court dramas back home, she thought. But with more action. And more blood.

Lord Eddard and Lord Renly had taken precautions, of course. Ser Gregor wasn't allowed to suit up and arm himself in private, but had to don his armour at the edge of the circle in which they would fight, and he wouldn't be handed his weapon - he had chosen a sword that was about the size of Yatsuhashi's Fulcrum, and she wondered if he could wield it as well as the second-year student back at Beacon - until the start of the fight. Even so, Blake couldn't help wondering how confident the Kingsguard standing between Sir Gregor and the King were.

Well, they didn't have to worry; if Ser Gregor tried to attack anyone, Ruby would intervene - she had her scythe out and her eyes glued to the man. Blake had no doubt that her friend would stop any such attempt in its tracks before he could take more than a single step.

But, to Blake's slight surprise, the man didn't attempt to flee - or to attack anyone. He seemed fixated on fighting her.

Well, she'd oblige him. She drew Gambol Shroud as she stepped into the circle and bowed to the king. While the High Septon led a prayer for divine justice, Ser Gregor seemed to tremble with fury, barely able to control himself. He was baring his teeth and grinding them so hard, Blake almost expected a few to crack, but he managed to restrain himself until the Septon finished.

So much hate… She was glad about it. It made this farce easier. Not easy, just easier. If he were desperate, afraid, if he showed that he was aware that he stood no chance, then killing him would feel more difficult even if she told herself, once again, that he was a rapist and child murderer who had shown no remorse at all.

But as soon as the King gave the signal, Ser Gregor roared and charged her, his huge sword raised high, spittle flying from his lips as he bared his yellowish teeth in a grimace.

He might as well have been moving at a leisurely pace. Blake waited until he reached her, then dodged to the right, whirling around him. She didn't even bother to leave a clone in her place. Before he realised it, she was behind him and Gambol Shroud's ribbon was wrapped around his legs. A quick jump on his back with both feet left him falling forward, and Blake launched herself forward a moment later, vaulting over his upper back and shoulders with Gambol Shroud and its sheath crossed in front of her chest.

The moment she was passing directly over his head, she struck, spreading her arms in a lightning-quick movement, and Ser Gregor's body and head hit the ground separately in a brief shower of blood while she landed a few yards ahead of him, her weapon already sheathed again.

She didn't bother looking behind her at the corpse - her ears would pick up any movement, not that she had missed - and bowed to the King. "Justice has been served, Your Grace."

While the crowd cheered as if she were an actress giving a show, she didn't miss several people making warding gestures with their fingers - aimed at her.

And she didn't miss how both princes, as well as Sandor Clegane, looked disappointed, either.

Too bad for them; Blake wouldn't play with her victim. She was better than that.


The Red Keep, King's Landing, Crownlands, Westeros, 298 AC

Yang Xiao Long looked at the corpse as blood formed a pool around the stump of its neck, then at Blake bowing to the King. Her partner looked cool and composed - as if she had just finished a not particularly challenging task at Beacon instead of killing someone. As if this had just been routine.

But Blake was a bit too calm. Stood a bit too straight. And didn't look back at the corpse, her attention focused on the King.

The audience was still cheering - most of them - but Yang saw several people who looked disturbed. Not by the death, she thought, but how easy and quickly Blake had finished things. The Kingsguard members present, with the exception of Ser Barristan, certainly looked taken aback at least a little.

Well, if they were surprised, then they hadn't paid attention during their spars. Granted, Team RWBY was usually holding back, focusing on techniques and details, but they had seen at the tourney what happened when they went all-out. That was on them, and not a problem for Yang.

Unlike her own team. Ruby was standing straight, trying to look unfazed, but Yang could see through her facade, how she was holding Crescent Rose so tightly, her knuckles were turning white.

"Don't look at the corpse," Weiss, standing between them, whispered.

She looked a bit paler than usual as well, Yang noted. Tense, but somehow more fragile as well.

"I'm team leader," Ruby replied. "I should have done this instead of Blake."

"Don't be stupid!" Weiss hissed before Yang could say the same - she really was off her game, she realised. "Blake made it clear that she wanted to do this."

"To spare anyone else," Ruby shot back.

Weiss's eyes widened, and Yang smiled ruefully. Her friend seemed to have underestimated her sister. Ruby wasn't an airhead, even if sometimes, she had her moments.

But this wasn't the time or place to hold this discussion. "Later," Yang said - Blake was glancing at them, and the way her eyes were narrowing slightly, she wasn't happy about their discussion either. At least no one else would have overheard them, not with the audience's excited murmurs drowning out everything else.

She turned to look at the corpse again when two servants started to drag it away with the help of a horse. The man - a rapist and a child murderer, she told herself again - had died quickly. He hadn't been left to slowly die from internal injuries or infection. And Blake had known what she was doing.

But that didn't make it easy or OK either. They would talk about this. Blake had been there for her when she had realised what she had done, and Yang would do the same for her partner.

But first, they had to talk to the others.


"You shouldn't have had to kill him!" Ruby blurted out as soon as they were in their room.

Yang saw Blake growing stiff and tense at once. "He would have killed anyone else. I started it when I arrested him, so I finished it," her partner said.

"He couldn't have killed me!" Ruby shot back. "I'm team leader - it is my job to look out for you all!"

"That doesn't include killing for us," Yang said.

Blake glanced at her, then nodded. "It was my decision, not yours. I was the accuser, so it was my responsibility."

Ruby bit her lower lip.

"Only because this farce of a judicial system mandates that the trial could only end by you either retracting the accusations or killing him," Weiss said.

"You could have picked a champion," Ruby pointed out.

Yang raised her eyebrows at her sister.

Blake nodded. "I could have. I didn't." She shook her head. "It was my responsibility, Ruby. Not yours."

Ruby frowned, looking from Blake to Weiss and then to Yang.

Yang nodded at her. "We're Huntresses, Sis. This is part of what we do."

"And we won't leave that to you, team leader or not. We're in this together," Weiss added with a frown. "So, stop complaining, dolt!"

Yang felt tempted to make a comment about team spirit, but this wasn't the time or topic for it. She nodded curtly instead, followed by Blake.

Ruby deflated and sat down on the bed. "I don't like it!" she complained.

"You don't have to like it. You just have to accept it," Weiss told her, sitting down next to her.

Yang nodded again.

Ruby nodded slowly, then suddenly narrowed her eyes at Yang and the others. "That goes for you as well, though."

What did she…? Oh. Yang frowned at her, and even more so when Ruby flashed a toothy grin at her.

"You will accept it if it's my turn to make such a decision," Ruby said.

It was clear she wouldn't budge on that, Yang realised.

Fuck.


After Ruby and Weiss had gone off to train the Stark kids (and to pet their wolves; Weiss wasn't fooling anyone, least of all Yang), Yang looked at Blake lying on the bed. She was supposed to catch up on sleep so she could spend more time at night doing 'surveillance', but Yang didn't think her partner would be sleeping much, if at all, today. She had her eyes closed and was breathing regularly, but she was just… Her body wasn't relaxed, not really. Yang knew how Blake looked when she was asleep - she tended to smile just a tiny bit when her face muscles relaxed, and sometimes, she moved in her sleep just a bit, trying unconsciously to find a more comfortable position. Not unlike a cat, not that Yang would ever say that.

So, Yang shouldn't feel bad for not heading out, or not being quiet, so Blake could sleep. Not at all - this was what partners did. Blake had been here for Yang, and so Yang would be here for her. "So… wanna talk about it?" Smooth, Yang, she berated herself. Just use the worst line ever.

"About me killing the Mountain?" Blake replied without opening her eyes.

"Yes."

"I did it so he wouldn't kill someone else in the trial and get off to murder more people," Blake said.

"Yeah." Yang walked over and sat down on the bed - on Blake's side, not on her own side.

Blake opened her eyes and turned to her side, raising her eyebrows as she looked at Yang. "I knew what I was doing. It was my decision."

"Yeah, we went over that already," Yang replied. "And Ruby took it to heart."

Blake winced. "I'm sorry. I should have handled this differently."

Yang snorted. "You think you could have done anything to make Ruby Rose be fine with her team suffering while she's OK? Have you met my sister?"

Blake giggled, then drew a sharp breath and shook her head. "No, I guess not."

"Damn right," Yang said.

"I didn't think you'd be so… accepting."

"I hate it. She's my little sister. I kinda raised her." As much as you could if you were two years older. Almost got her killed, too, but that wasn't something to bring up now. "But I know I can't stop her." Even if she wished she could.

Blake nodded without saying a word.

"So… I don't need to go into all the reasons why killing the guy was right," Yang went on after a moment. "You already did that."

"Yes."

"And it's about as helpful as it was for me, I guess."

A quick sad smile flashed over her partner's face. "Yes."

Yang nodded. "Thought so. It eats at you, right?"

Blake hesitated, then nodded again. "Some of the older members of the White Fang said it got easier over time."

Yang slowly nodded again. Blake rarely told anything about her time in the organisation.

"But… some who claimed that were… drinking more than others," Blake said.

Yang winced. "I know the type." Uncle Qrow was such a drunk.

"And those for whom it did get easier…" Blake winced. "I don't want to be like them."

Yang winced. She could imagine that. "You won't be," she said, reaching out to pat Blake's knee.

Blake stared at her. "How can you be sure? We probably have killed people in the North and didn't even notice."

Yeah, Yang had realised that as well. Everyone probably had, but they hadn't talked about it before. "We feel bad about it." Bad enough to not want to think about it. "If we stop feeling bad about it, then we can worry."

"That'd be already past the point when we should have worried." Blake looked away, and Yang saw her jaw muscles twitch as she clenched her teeth. That would be another sad memory from her time in the White Fang.

"Yeah." Yang really wanted to know what had happened there to do this to her partner, but she wouldn't push the issue. Blake would tell her when she was ready. "So… good talk?" She forced herself to grin.

Blake's smile looked as honest as her grin. "Yes."

Yang nodded once again, then leaned back, resting her head on Blake's thigh. "Nap time then."

"Yes."


"Lady Yang." Jon smiled in his earnest but also shy way at Yang when she walked into the training yard. None of the others were around - Yang had seen Arya and Bran, both covered in sand and looking exhausted, entering the Tower of the Hand on the way here. It looked like Ruby and Weiss hadn't been very gentle today.

Of course, they hadn't been gentle! Yang berated herself. Not after what they had seen today. But… She looked around.

"Lady Ruby and Lady Weiss mentioned going to buy 'comfort food'," Jon answered her question before she could ask it.

He looked confused, so Yang explained: "Food you eat to feel better."

He still looked confused. "That's… good food?"

She chuckled. "Sorry, it's a word from our world. It means food you usually don't eat too much because it's unhealthy, but so good, so when you feel like treating yourself, you buy a lot of it."

"Unhealthy food?" He grimaced. "Why would you eat that?"

Yang blinked. Oh. "No spoilt food. Unhealthy food - like, candy, chocolate, cakes, cookies… too much sugar and fat, basically, not enough nutrients."

He shook his head. "But that's what keeps you healthy! Without fat and sugar, you grow sick and die in Winter!"

Yang winced. Right. Westeros - at least the North - had a different view of healthy food. "Well, it's different back home. Getting enough food is usually not a problem." Not in the cities, and if you got cut off from supplies in the countryside, you usually were killed by Grimm before you could starve. "Anyway, they just want to cheer up by getting a treat."

"They mentioned buying fish dishes as well," Jon said.

"That's comfort food for Blake." And Yang knew that Jon hadn't missed her partner's weakness for seafood.

"Ah." Jon frowned. "Why would Lady Blake need to feel better? She won a great victory today."

Yang glared at him. "A great victory? The man had no chance to beat her."

"Because the gods ruled it."

Yang swallowed what she wanted to say about any gods that made her partner kill for them. People here took their religion seriously. "That doesn't mean it's something to be happy about."

"But… a murderer was brought to justice thanks to her." Jon shook his head. "Isn't that something to be proud of?"

"Ask your father if he's proud when he cuts off some criminal's head," Yang told him with a frown. "Before you try it out yourself."

"I will, my lady." Jon bowed his head.

Yang rolled her eyes. The boy was overly formal, which meant he was annoyed or angry with her. Well, that was his problem. Still… "We don't take killing lightly," she said. "It's not… normal for us."

"But you're so strong!"

"That's it," she said. "Because we are so strong, because we can kill so easily…" Far too easily, as Yang wished she didn't know from personal experience. "...we can't kill easily." She blinked, then groaned. "That didn't make sense, I know. But… OK, it's like this: The stronger you are, the more careful you have to be. Because if you make a mistake, the consequences will be much worse."

"Oh. That makes sense."

"Yes. Power is a responsibility, not a privilege," she quoted a teacher from Signal.

Jon nodded. "It's a duty."

"Yeah, pretty much." Close enough, at least.

"But if you wield your strength in the course of justice, then that's following your duty, right?"

Yan suppressed a sigh. She came here to blow off some steam, not to get all philosophical. Well, she had quoted one teacher, she might as well quote another. "And what is justice?"

He blinked.

Hah! Don't have an answer for that, huh? "Think about it!" she said. "After our sparring match."

He blinked. "Our sparring match? I just…"

She interrupted him with a faked strike to his face that had him dodge to the side and draw his sword before he realised what he had done, then kept up the pressure so he couldn't get cold feet.

She needed to blow off some steam.

Chapter 18: Plots and Politics

'For many today, used to the rule of law, the idea that not so long ago, a ruler's whims were above reproach and laws could be changed - or ignored - as long as you were sufficiently powerful is an anathema. And yet, in the time of Lady Ruby and her friends, that was the case in all of Westeros; any law was only enforced as long as and as far as the local ruler decided to. Even precedents and rulings that had been followed for centuries were not exempt, although to ignore such rules required more power than most nobles, even the King himself, had without dragons. In the same vein, those who sought protection by the law were also forced to gain enough power and influence to ensure the law would be enforced in their case. It should be no surprise to those familiar with the political situation in Westeros prior to the Succession that four powerful foreign warriors, unbound by family alliances yet favoured by King Robert above even his own family, were enough to upset carefully woven webs of alliances and tacit agreements. However, the claim that without them, the Succession could have been prevented, lacks any basis. The rifts that caused the Succession were already present between the factions.'

• A Treatise On The Ruby Order, by Maester Kennet Bracken

The Red Keep, King's Landing, Crownlands, Westeros, 298 AC

Oberyn Martell gazed out of the window of their quarters at the city below as the sun was setting in the west, idly moving his cup to slosh the remaining wine in it around a little.

The Mountain had fallen. One of the murderers of his sister and his niece and nephew had died. Not at his hand, and far too quickly and cleanly for his taste, but Oberyn was not as petty, nor as prideful, as to suffer more than slight annoyance and frustration over that. Lesser men might feel as if they had been cheated out of their vengeance, but not him. More prickly and stubborn men might also think that justice wasn't served since the Mountain hadn't been killed for the murder of dear Elia, Aegon and Rhaenys or any of his other, numerous crimes, but for killing one of his own men in a fit of rage, but Oberyn was too pragmatic for that. Unlike, say, Stannis Baratheon, who was a stickler for procedure. The man would probably execute himself if he ever committed a crime.

Of course, had Stannis been king, all those responsible for Elia's murder would have been tried and executed as soon as he was crowned. Or, more likely, would have had tragic accidents before any trial could have been convened, so they couldn't contradict Tywin when he'd claim to have been completely shocked by their unexpected actions.

He gripped the cup harder. Yes, the Mountain had fallen, but he was only one of the murderers of Oberyn's kin. Amory Lorch still lived. As did Tywin Lannister.

Oberyn clenched his teeth. That this monster still lived, his daughter married to the King and his grandchildren in line to the throne, stuck in his craw and made his gut ache with frustration.

He downed the rest of his wine and put the cup away. Blood called for blood. How could his dead kin find any peace as long as their murderers walked unscathed?

"Are you still planning to seduce the Maidens?"

He turned to smile at his paramour. She was looking particularly attractive in her new dress. "I already told you, I am not planning to seduce them."

She raised her eyebrows, and he shrugged and smiled as he stood and walked over to her. He slipped an arm around her waist and placed a quick kiss on her lips. "But I wouldn't push them away if they felt like a tumble." What man worth his salt would?

She slipped out of his grasp and checked her face paint with a small silver mirror. "You like playing with fire."

He shrugged again and sat down, legs spread, one elbow propping up his head, on the chair in the centre of the room. "So do you."

She smiled before turning serious. "Would you try to play with a dragon as well?"

He frowned. "They're no dragons. They might be as powerful as a dragon - or more - but they're girls."

"Exactly." She nodded. "Girls with the power of a dragon."

"That's what makes the dance interesting," he said with a grin.

She shook her head. "They're girls. Their leader has likely just barely flowered, and the others are at best a year or two older."

"Yes? They're old enough to pick a lover." And powerful enough to refuse anyone. Who could put pressure on a group of girls who could tear your castle down around you with their bare hands?

"They're the same age as your older daughters, my love. And you know how girls their age are."

He blinked. What did that have… "Oh."

She nodded. "Imagine that… incident back in Sunspear, but with your daughters wielding such power. Lady Yang killed a man by accident - by crushing his balls in a bout of anger. And you saw Lady Blake kill the Mountain."

He nodded with a grimace. If they lost their temper like his daughters were sometimes wont to, they wouldn't throw a tantrum - they would throw people around. If he bedded one of them and she felt offended, or if one of the others grew jealous of her friend or of him… "Doran would be happy if I were forced to marry one of them."

"Only until he realises that they would be less pliable and likely to listen to him than your own daughters."

He nodded again. Yes. The girls weren't from Westeros. Only a fool would assume that they would follow local customs if they disagreed with it. Or local laws. "It would be like marrying a dragon." Hoping every day that you wouldn't set the beast off to turn against you.

She nodded with a slightly rueful smile. "But you'd still bed them."

"Would you scorn someone who could crush you like a grape?" he asked her.

"That's a question many women have to ask themselves every day."

He blinked. That was… weirdly fitting, actually. Oberyn nodded.

And couldn't help wondering what Lady Ruby and her group would think about this.

It was a rather sobering thought.


The fat King seemed determined to eat and drink himself into a stupor, Oberyn noted. Although he seemed to be in a better mood these days than what had been reported by his sources in the past. Still, odds were, should the King keep this up, he'd die from his excesses, robbing Oberyn of his vengeance - the man had laughed at the corpses of his kin, after all.

At least the Lannisters at court were not in a good mood. The Queen seemed to have a scowl permanently stuck on her face, the Imp was trying to match the King drink for drink - attempting to ingrain himself into the King's good graces, no doubt - and the Kingslayer kept glancing between his sister the Queen and Lady Ruby and her friends as if he couldn't decide who bore watching more. And the Crown Prince was pouting when he wasn't sneaking glances at the Four Maidens.

Seated, as befitted his rank, at the same table, Oberyn smiled at the sight. That cursed House deserved every possible misery one cold heap upon their heads and then some for all their sins.

And yet, he couldn't dwell on that pleasant thought. His paramour had raised a few disturbing questions about Team Ruby. Looking at them, it was obvious, if somewhat in hindsight, how much they didn't fit here. They were dressed in exotic garments, far more revealing than anyone in Westeros would wear, without displaying any sign of embarrassment, yet blushed at even mild flirting. They paid attention to the serving wenches - and not in the lecherous ways the King and other men did, nor the jealous glares of the Queen. Not that they had any reason to feel envious, being such exotic beauties themselves, of course - though their beauty hid lethal danger, he reminded himself.

But most of all, he noted how young they were. Stubborn and proud, yet inexperienced in many areas - both public and private, he was certain - they were young women whose attitudes betrayed both their age and resulting lack of maturity and the stark differences between the customs of their homeland and those of Westeros. They might refuse to talk about their home, at least to those not in their inner circle, but thanks to what they had let slip, and especially the reactions of Lady Ruby and her sister to certain topics, it was quite clear to Oberyn that the longer they stayed in Westeros, the greater was the risk that a violent conflict would break out. Even Lady Weiss and Lady Blake, while better at hiding their emotions, weren't experienced enough to fool someone who had grown up at Sunspear. Even now, Lady Blake was looking with mild interest at the Prince who complimented her - again - for her fight in the trial, yet Oberyn could see how tense she was - her ever-present bow was sometimes moving slightly, betraying how twitchy she was. And Lady Weiss seemed…

"You are playing with fire, Prince Oberyn," the Imp interrupted his assessment.

He turned to look at the youngest Lannister and supposed heir of his father. "Aren't we all, Lord Lannister?" he replied, raising his eyebrows.

The Imp chuckled. "In a sense, I assume. But not all of us are staring at a blazing fire and planning how to jump into it." He nodded at the girls opposite them.

Did he think Oberyn was trying to seduce the Four Maidens? Or did he want Oberyn to think he did, therefore underestimating him? Oberyn couldn't tell.

Ellaria leaned forward, smiling at the Imp. "I believe many are planning what you imply, my lord. However, not everyone is as foolish as to actually risk making an attempt."

"Oh?" The Imp cocked his head to the side. "Both your reputations seemed to indicate otherwise."

Oberyn laughed. "Reputations are often overblown, as you should know better than anyone else." They had drawn attention from Lady Ruby's friends, he noted, but they were a bit too far to overhear their talk. Of course, if they could read lips…

"Why, whatever do you mean, Prince Oberyn?" the Imp asked, holding out his cup to be refilled. "I can assure you that I earned my reputation honestly - through hard drinking and harder fucking."

"And your father earned his through ruthless violence," Oberyn replied, showing his teeth. "And yet, I wonder how his reputation will hold up as times change."

The Imp snorted. "My father is many things - ruthless, cruel and cold - but he is not a fool."

Had the Lannisters already come to an arrangement with Team Ruby? Or was this merely empty if subtle boasting, an attempt to claim closer relations to the Four Maidens than they were in truth? Oberyn shrugged. "Those who would leap into a blaze are fools - but so are those who do not watch the blaze so they can avoid being burnt, should it suddenly flare up."

"Indeed." The Imp nodded. "But you aren't a fool either, and neither am I. So, I wonder - will you risk your life or your reputation when dealing with Team Ruby?"

"What's life without a little risk?" Oberyn smiled widely again. He ignored his paramour gripping his arm a bit tightly. He couldn't show weakness to the Imp.

Not that he had the intention to actually seduce one of those girls. Ellaria was right - they might appear close, but nothing turned friends into sworn enemies than jealousy over a lover. Oberyn had been at the heart of such affairs before - jealousy and spite often made for a great night between the sheets - but he was not such a fool as to risk being caught between girls who could wreck castles with their bare hands and kill - or unman - grown men by accident without noticing.

"I don't think there's anything little about them, Prince Oberyn. They could shatter the realm if they wanted to. It's only their good nature and their honour that holds them back. And neither tends to fare well in this city." The imp downed his cup and then turned away to address his brother.

Oberyn nodded. The Imp might not see it, but he had made a good point, one worth acknowledging.

Sooner or later, the girls would lose their temper and lash out. That was inevitable. But as long as Oberyn could ensure that he wasn't between them and whatever fool would earn their ire, it was also an opportunity to finally get his revenge.

The Imp was correct - those four could shatter the realm. Shattering a house or two would be nothing in comparison.


The Red Keep, King's Landing, Crownlands, Westeros, 298 AC

Ruby Rose's smile slipped a little as she walked through the Red Keep. Too many servants bowed far too deeply when they met her. She wasn't some messenger from the gods or the avatar of the Maiden or whatever - she was just Ruby, Huntress-in-training and the leader of Team RWBY! She was here by accident, not because of the gods! And she wanted to go home, not… do whatever these people expected her to do!

She almost used her Semblance to dash to the door and into the courtyard, but the last time she had done that, people had fought over the petals she had left behind - even though they had faded quickly! One had even eaten them! (And that had been really, really weird! And yucky!)

Ruby grimaced at the thought as she stepped into the yard. The locals here were weird, even those who liked Team RWBY. Or especially those - Prince Oberyn and his girlfriend - his 'paramour', as they called her - kept flirting with Ruby and her friends. Yang might say they weren't serious (any more), but it was still icky - they were old enough to be her parents! That would be like… Uncle Qrow hitting on Weiss or Blake.

She shuddered and turned left to head to the royal library. Movement above her caught her attention, but it was just a bird landing on the roof of the building. She smiled and waved at it. "Keep your distance, OK? I don't want to hurt you by mistake!"

The raven froze for a moment, then stared at her. Well, ravens were supposed to be smart.

She stepped into the royal library. "Hello?"

"Ah, Lady Ruby!" Septon Hernis quickly appeared from between two shelves and bowed deeply. "You honour us with your presence, my lady!"

Ruby winced (it was fine; he wasn't looking at her but at the floor) and shook her head. "I'm just checking up on the, ah, books, you know."

"We're working with all our might to find what you seek for your task, my lady!"

Ruby felt her smile slip. "Yeah… good. Thank you." In hindsight, she'd have almost preferred if Hernis had stayed annoyed at her as he had been before their visit to the Great Sept. Dealing with people who disliked her was much less embarrassing than dealing with all that bowing and scraping, as Blake called it. She wasn't a noblewoman, anyway. Just a Huntress. She was supposed to protect people, not lord it over them.

"We have some interesting notes from a Valyrian explorer who claims to have visited the Shadow Lands to translate," Marwyn said, nodding at her from his usual table in the back.

"Though they seem to cover the people's magic, not the land's," Pycelle added.

Ruby smiled at both. Team RWBY was really lucky that the Grand Maester had found the time to help their search as well. Marwyn now had a fellow Maester to help him!

"That is a misunderstanding of the idioms, Pycelle! The magic of the people by custom of the time includes the magic of the land since both were entwined," Marwyn said.

"That is a hypothesis; we don't have any primary sources that could support that."

"We have a wealth of secondary treatises that confirm that, and we have translated works that cover the history of Valyria that also mention those views," Marwyn retorted.

"Those are translations, and we don't know the biases and limits under which the translators worked! You can't just assume something - we have to look at the evidence impartially and logically, Marwyn!"

"I am doing that, Pycelle!"

Well, they were working together - that was how academics worked, right? Ruby cleared her throat and forced herself to smile at them. "I'm happy to hear that. I'll tell the others - we need to talk about this as soon as you've finished the book." Whenever that would be.

"Of course, my lady! I shall send word as soon as we finish!" And Hernis bowed again, deep enough she feared he'd fall over.

At least Marwyn and Pycelle just smiled and nodded at her - eerily in sync - and went back to bickering. Or academic discussion, as Weiss called it.

Still, Ruby didn't want to stay here and bother them - and who wouldn't be bothered with Hernis treating her like some demi-goddess? - so she said her goodbyes and left again.

And now she had nothing to do until lunch. Drat!

She blinked. Yang was at Mott's smithy, Blake was busy doing her spying, but Weiss had said she was going to the Starks to pet their wolves and talk to Lord Eddard. Well, she hadn't said she wanted to pet their wolves, but everyone knew she wanted to. And the Starks were nice, so Ruby could join Weiss there. She just had to…

"Lady Ruby?"

Ruby turned. Who was..? Oh. "Lady Margaery. Good morning!" She smiled.

"Good morning." The other girl nodded her head.

Ruby nodded back. "Are you going to the library?" It was a dumb question. They were practically standing in front of the entrance, so where else would Lady Margaery be going?

"I was just taking a stroll through the yard."

"Oh?" Ruby cocked her head to the side. Well, that explained it as well. The weather was nice, and the Red Keep was probably safer to take a stroll in than the city. Although there were a lot of spies in the Keep..

"Yes. What a coincidence to meet you here."

"Ah!" Ruby nodded. "I just checked how Marwyn, Pycelle and Hernis are doing." She blushed. "I mean, how Archmaester Marwyn, Grand Maester Pycelle…" (Archmaester was apparently higher in their order; Grand Maester was a court rank.) "...and Septon Hernis are doing. They're helping us with our research." Well, they were doing the research since none of her team could read most of the books in the library, so it was more that Team RWBY was helping them when they could, but there was no need to go into that kind of detail!

Lady Margaery seemed surprised. "They're helping you with your research?"

Ruby had just said that, hadn't she? "Yes," she repeated herself. "We're looking for magical places - ruins, probably - that can send us home."

"I see." Lady Margaery tilted her head with a polite smile. "And they offered their help? That is very generous of them."

"Yes!" Ruby beamed. "They're very nice." Especially Pycelle. Marwyn was interested in magic, so he was learning new things through this, but Pycelle just wanted to help them get home. And Hernis, well… he helped them because he thought the gods wanted him to, but that wasn't Team RWBY's fault.

"Indeed."

Lady Margaery looked a bit like Weiss when she wanted to say something impolite but didn't, and Ruby wondered if she should ask her if something was wrong.

"Would you walk with me for a bit, Lady Ruby? Or are you in a hurry?"

Ruby shook her head. "No, no, I'm not in a hurry."

"Very well." Lady Margaery offered her the crook of her arm.

Ruby slipped her arm through it - that was the proper response, though she wasn't sure if there were more rules about it - and smiled.

"So, you are looking for magical places?"

"Yes." Ruby nodded. "Ruins, probably - like the ones that sent us here."

"I heard that the Seven Who Are One have sent you here, to help and guide us."

Drat. Ruby felt her cheeks heat up. She almost blurted out what she thought about that, but that would have been impolite. "Ah, I don't know about that. If the gods had called us here, wouldn't they have told us what we need to do?" Why would you move someone to another world and not tell them what they're supposed to do?

"The gods work in mysterious ways. Often, their aims only become clear in hindsight."

Now, that sounded weird. And kinda wrong. "Well, then we're not yet at that point. But I think it was just an accident." If the gods were real and could reach Remnant, wouldn't they have appeared before? Ruby wasn't the most faithful? Devout? Whatever! But she would have remembered a religion with seven gods that were one on Remnant. Maybe. She hadnˆt paid too much attention. She probably should ask Weiss. Or Blake - Blake probably knew more about Faunus religions. Then again, if the Seven were Faunus gods, wouldn't there be Faunus here in Westeros?

"An accident?" Lady Margaery raised her eyebrows.

"Yes. Accidents happen." Ruby nodded.

"And you're looking into ways to make such an accident happen?"

"Yes." She got it!

"I see," Lady Margaery said, but she looked a bit confused. Not much, though - she was as cool as ever. Although…

Ruby smiled. "Are you in a hurry, my lady?"

"Not particularly, no. Why?"

"Want to go pet a puppy?"


"Who is a good boy? You are! You are!" Weiss Schnee whispered as she petted Hunter's fluffy belly. Lady whined a little, trying to push her brother out of the way, and so Weiss switched to petting her with one hand and rubbing Hunter's belly with the other. They were so adorable!

"Aw! Hi, Weiss! Hi, Arya! Hi Bran!"

Weiss froze for a moment, then schooled her features and slowly turned to look at her team leader with all the dignity worthy of her position. "Yes, Ruby?" Wasn't she supposed to check the library today? Oh, they weren't alone! She suppressed the glare Ruby deserved for surprising her with a guest and smiled at Lady Margaery. "Good morning, my lady."

"Good morning, Lady Weiss." Margaery seemed to be a bit off today - she looked nervous.

"Oh! Hi, Nymeria!" Ruby had dashed over to the third fluffball, who had been watching from her spot at Arya's feet, and started petting her. "Lady Margaery wanted to pet your wolves!" she told the children.

The noblewoman didn't seem to agree with that, but she didn't contradict Ruby's claim, so she probably just was a bit embarrassed by Ruby dragging her inside the Tower of the Hand as if it belonged to her.

"Oh, sure! They love being petted!" Bran blurted out. "Especially Hunter. And Lady."

Smiling at the noblewoman, Weiss nodded. "Oh, yes. Come! They're waiting."

Lady Margaery looked even more nervous when she slowly stepped closer, and Weiss nudged Lady. "Come on, Lady! Show Lady Margaery how nice you are!"

"And how big you are…" Lady Margaery muttered as Lady chuffed and stood up, shaking her head before rubbing her flank against the noblewoman.

"They're direwolves!" Bran said, beaming. "They're going to grow even bigger!"

"Remarkable," Lady Margaery said. She started petting Lady, but she was much too hesitant.

"You need to pet them more forcefully," Weiss told her. "Don't worry, they like it!"

"Yes, Lady loves the attention. Good morning, my ladies."

Ah, Lady Sansa had joined them.

"Good morning, my ladies." And Prince Joffrey was with her. "Indeed. For such strong animals, they are remarkably playful. They could easily rip apart a grown man - or an ox once they are fully grown!" he added with a wide smile.

"They'd only do that if we order them to!" Arya added.

"That's very reassuring, my lady," Lady Margaery replied as she stepped away from Lady, who quickly joined Lady Sansa to beg a treat.

"Indeed. None shall live to lay a hand on my betrothed or on her kin with such guards around," the Prince declared. "You have to take them hunting soon - imagine what prey they can take down!"

Lady Sansa nodded. "I will ask Father if we can attend the next hunt, then."

"He can't refuse you, can he?" The Prince scowled. "Not if you're invited."

"I would think not," Lady Sansa said.

"That should be a very memorable occasion," Lady Margaery said. "Though I fear that there won't be much left for us if such big wolves run down a stag."

"They won't feed if we tell them not to," Arya said with a frown.

"They're smarter than dogs," Bran added with a nod.

"Nymeria is the smartest!" Arya claimed.

"Hunter is smarter!"

"Of course you'd say that!"

"Don't argue!" Lady Sansa hissed at her younger siblings.

"Don't butt in!"

"We're not arguing!"

Nymeria and Hunter both barked, drowning out everyone until Lord Eddard arrived to stop the ruckus.

Fortunately, he didn't blame Weiss and her friends for it, though Weiss did feel a bit guilty when the children were scolded. She had indulged in her desire to pet the puppies as well, after all, so it wasn't as if it was entirely the fault of the children. She wasn't the only one, either - Lady Margaery excused herself, claiming the need to write to her family. A transparent excuse to leave the tower, in Weiss's opinion.


The Red Keep, King's Landing, Crownlands, Westeros, 298 AC

"Greetings, Lord Tyrion," Weiss Schnee said as a servant ushered her into the noble's quarters. They were almost as big as her team's, she noted - of course, Lord Tyrion had been living here for years and wasn't merely a visitor but the brother of the Queen and the heir of the Lord of the Westerlands - although there was some doubt that he would actually be allowed to inherit according to many. Still, she felt a bit annoyed at the differences.

"Lady Weiss! Be welcome in my humble abode." He bowed and gestured at the table, where two chairs were facing each other, one noticeably higher and with a footstool placed at its feet.

Weiss nodded. She had expected, as usual when visiting nobles, to be seated in some armchair, or on a couch, with maybe a side table for the snacks and refreshments served by servants. This seemed… not like a business meeting at home, but more like two men meeting for a talk over a drink, perhaps? She wasn't quite certain if she was reading the social clues correctly when it concerned such details. Of course, she also knew that many business deals had been brokered during such supposedly casual meetings.

Of course, she still took her seat - she was Weiss Schnee. Her family didn't follow trends; they set them. She politely pretended not to watch while Tyrion literally climbed onto his own chair across the table, then realised that this arrangement put their heads at equal height.

In her experience, nobles would do small talk before addressing the topic of such a meeting, but with Lord Tyrion having decided on such an unorthodox approach, she decided to respond in kind. "You wished to speak to me, my lord."

He snorted, then snipped his finger, and a servant started filling their glasses. "I did." He took a sip from his glass. "I talk best with my throat wet," he commented with a lopsided smile.

She tilted her head slightly in return. "I found it most advantageous not to dull my wits with wine."

He snorted again. "As expected."

A servant offered her a cup of tea, and she nodded, letting them place the cup down on the table. She had no intention to actually drink from it, though - not without Blake giving the all-clear. Lord Tyrion might not be close to the Queen - Weiss was very well aware what the Queen said about him in private talks, and unless the two siblings were playing a game that went on for years, she was not find of him at all - but his servants showed some similarities to the Queen's, likely because both came from the Westerlands, and that made it more likely that the Queen could find some leverage over one or more of them.

And if you had leverage… Weiss knew from personal experience that few servants would be able to resist such influence; too many of her secrets had been revealed to her father that way, and she wouldn't put it past the Queen to use such an opportunity to strike at Weiss and frame her own brother.

She lifted her cup to her lips anyway and faked taking a sip - it wouldn't do to appear either timid or impolite - and waited for the Lord to come to the point.

He chuckled, once, "If I had invited Lady Ruby, she would already be talking my ear off."

Both servants present left after a gesture from the nobleman.

"You didn't invite Ruby. You invited me," Weiss replied.

"I did, yes." He chuckled again. "And with good reason."

She raised her eyebrows. What did he mean? Was he about to offer a betrothal? Rumours claimed that all noble houses of sufficient rank had refused to have a daughter marry him, and that his father would not betroth his nominal heir to any girl from a lower house. Team RWBY would offer an alternative, and Lord Tyrion had sussed out that on Remnant, you chose your partner yourself; you didn't let your parents decide for you - or you weren't supposed to. Or was he trying to split her team? Turn her against her friends? "Yes?" she put the cup down.

"You are Lady Ruby's hand." Lord Tyrion said it as a statement, not a question.

Weiss frowned slightly. "I do not act as her hand."

"Not in a formal sense. But you're her most trusted advisor. If you speak, she listens. And if she listens, the others follow."

He sounded confident, but that could be an act. Someone growing up as a member of the highest nobility would know how to put on an act. "Ruby listens to any sound argument." That was, well, a little exaggerated. Maybe more than a little. But essentially true.

"And you know how to make a sound argument best amongst your group."

Weiss frowned a bit more. Was that a veiled insult of the rest of her team? "I think you misjudge my friends, my lord."

"Oh, I didn't mean that Lady Blake or Lake Yang were lackwits. Only a fool would underestimate either. However, you are the one who treats the most with the members of the court - those who aren't the King or the Kingsguard, at least. You regularly match barbs with my dear sister, for example."

That was correct, though Weiss was growing a bit tired of the apodictic way the nobleman stated his opinion. "All of my friends could match barbs with the Queen - and have, at various opportunities."

"Without losing their temper when Cersei keeps at it?" He took another swallow from his glass before refilling it.

"Yes." Weiss nodded firmly. Blake wouldn't lose her cool at all when faced with petty insults. And Yang… had had a harsh lesson about not thinking before acting.

"Then it seems I underestimated your friends, indeed." He smiled, showing his teeth.

Ruby and Yang would both roll their eyes at this point. Weiss felt like it. And she felt like asking him to come to the point. But that would undermine her choice to wait him out. So she nodded and waited.

He snorted again. "That's another reason I wanted to talk to you, Lady Weiss. You know how to play the game."

"I might know it. That doesn't mean I am playing it," she told him.

"Everyone at court is playing it. Some just don't realise it."

Ah. "From a certain point of view, you might be correct." She had to give him that. "Yet you seem to assume that everyone is playing the same game."

"Like offering betrothals? Or trying to seduce you? I hope you won't feel slighted when I do neither; I prefer to pursue people who are more receptive to my charms."

"Not at all," she replied. "The constant proposals quickly became a bother."

"Oh, Cersei was utterly blindsided by your reaction to the betrothal between my nephew and Lady Sansa."

She tilted her head at the nonsequitur. "We noticed."

"She can't fathom that people aren't like her. And she's too stubborn and proud to admit any mistake."

"I bow to your far more vast knowledge of this subject." If he thought she would chime in with catty remarks that could be turned against her or undermine her team, he was mistaken.

He laughed. "As I said, you play the game well, Lady Weiss."

She slowly tilted her head and stared at him. "You said I know how to play the game," she corrected him.

"I did, yes."

She resisted the urge to check the time; her scroll was turned off anyway, and they didn't have mechanical clocks in Westeros as far as she knew.

"What do you want, my lady?"

Her first impulse was to turn the question back at him - he was the one who had invited her. She didn't indulge that urge. She was tired of those games. Instead, she told him the truth: "I want to go home with my friends."

"And all the riches of Westeros won't be able to change your mind."

"Yes."

He nodded and refilled his glass again. "Your home must be a paradise if you're choosing to return home over ruling this country."

She shrugged. "Many people would choose their home even over an objectively better alternative." Ruling Westeros? As if anyone would want to live in this barbarian country without any decent infrastructure or technology, much less rule it!

"And yet, you almost never talk about it." His mismatched eyes narrowed slightly.

"Talking about our home makes the longing worse." She smiled at him.

"Understandable."

He still hadn't told her why he wanted to see her. She really wanted to ask him - to tell him to get to the point already! - but she had her pride. So, she kept smiling politely and waited.

He sighed, and she smiled. Then he narrowed his eyes again and met hers. "What will it take to make you spare the rest of my family, should a member do something stupid?"

She blinked. So, that was what he was worried about? She shook her head. "Nothing. We do not blame people for the sins of others, be they kin or not."

He didn't seem to be as relieved as she had expected at hearing her assurance. Did he really think Team RWBY was as bad as, say, his father? Or anyone else like him?

Maybe she should also add that Team RWBy was not going to kill people for insulting or attacking them. Although… she really didn't want anyone to think that they could attack her friends without suffering the consequences of their actions.

Decisions, decisions.


"...and so he finally, after dancing around the topic for an annoyingly long time, asked us not to judge his family for the actions of his sister - and, at least that was my impression, of his father."

Blake Belladonna nodded as Weiss reported what had happened in her meeting with Lord Tyrion.

"But we wouldn't do that anyway!" Ruby blurted out.

"I know!" Weiss scoffed. "But, apparently, Lord Tyrion didn't. As a matter of fact, I am still not certain that he believed me when I explained our stance to him. Judging the children for the sins of their parents - or cousins, grandparents, etc. - seems to be widely accepted in Westeros."

"Even if it weren't, Lord Tyrion's father had an entire house killed," Blake reminded them. "And had a song about it commissioned."

"That's sick," Yang said with a scowl.

"Yes. But it also ensured that few others would dare to challenge him." Weiss pressed her lips together. "By spreading it - by owning it - he used it to build up his reputation."

Blake nodded again. The White Fang had done the same - or attempted to do it, at least - by attacking targets that would ensure the maximum amount of publicity. But having a reputation for attacking civilians and killing them was, at best, a double-edged blade. It scared people, but it also made them hate you - and both fear and hatred could drive people to fight you with all they got. Adam never understood that. He had never wanted to understand it since if he had, he would have had to change his policies - and that would have meant admitting that he had made a mistake.

"Well, he knows now that we aren't going to attack him for whatever the Queen does," Yang said. "So, problem solved."

Weiss shook her head. "Even presuming that he believes us, the Queen is merely the most obvious issue. As I said, I had the impression that he was also worried about his father. Not the least because Lord Tywin might consider the death of Ser Gregor an attack on him - or his power."

"So, does he think his father will travel here?" Ruby asked. "If he's worried about him offending us. He can't really do that from the other side of the continent."

"He could," Blake pointed out. "He could work through intermediaries and strawmen to strike at us. Usually, people in his position don't get their hands dirty by personally engaging someone."

"I believe that we can expect Lord Tywin to travel to King's Landing," Weiss said. "As well as many other nobles. Our demonstration at the tourney will have impressed their relatives and agents in the city, and they will want to meet us to take our measure, as Lord Eddard would describe it."

"You mean to offer betrothals to us," Ruby said with a scowl and leaned back on her bed until she was staring at the ceiling. "I am so sick of that! Why don't they get that we're not interested?"

Blake shrugged. Many people, both humans and Faunus, were stuck in their ways. Changing people's opinions was hard - much harder than riling them up to fight someone.

"Because they don't understand us," Yang said with a grin. "If they did, they'd try to bribe you with weapons, sis."

Ruby scoffed as Yang chuckled at her own joke. "They don't have very interesting weapons here. Well, except for the blades made from Valyrian steel. But they are apparently priceless."

"Yes." Weiss nodded. "Not even Lord Tywin, widely considered the richest noble in Westeros, was able to buy one after his ancestral blade was lost 300 years ago."

"And even if they offered such a blade, they would expect you to marry their heir or something," Yang added.

Ruby pouted. "I don't want to own one. I just want to examine it. See if there's anything that would make Crescent Rose better."

Of course she would! Blake smiled slightly as the others chuckled.

"Anyway, I am glad that you settled that misunderstanding, Weiss," Ruby went on. "We can't have people think we would go crazy and attack families."

Everyone agreed with that. But Blake also knew that they couldn't be seen as too soft, or one of the sick bastards making up the high nobility here would think they were weak and start something.

She had a few suspects in mind already. The Queen, of course, but Lord Baelish was looking more suspicious the more she found out about him. And if Lord Tyrion didn't trust them, he might consider striking first. And only a fool would trust a spymaster employing children as agents.


Street of Silk, King's Landing, Crownlands, Westeros, 298 AC

Blake was getting too familiar with this brothel. She didn't just know many of the employees of both genders on sight, she had started to recognise regular clients as well, even though she had not yet set foot inside the building - she had stuck to spying through windows and shutters, usually hanging from the edge of the roof. She would have thought that a brothel which charged as much money as this one would be better at protecting the privacy of their clients, especially those with more… exotic desires.

Granted, being a Faunus and a Huntress provided her with unique advantages none of the humans in this world had, mainly excellent night vision and other senses and Aura-enhanced strength and endurance. No human would have been able to make the leap to the brothel's roof, nor would they have been able to spy as effectively as she did. And without cameras and other recording devices, any attempt to prove someone was a client would reveal her as a spy as well, which would deter many local spies from actually doing that. Still, closing the shutters to completely block her line of sight instead of leaving gaps for light to pass through should have been obvious.

"...oh, you are so great, my lord! No one compares to you!"

"Hah! Flatterer! I bet you say that to everyone!"

"Yes. But I mean it when I say it to you!"

Blake rolled her eyes. No need to visually check that room - she recognised the voice. That was a rich merchant, a regular. From what she had overheard from the staff, he was well-liked for tipping generously.

She moved to the spot above the next room, her ears twitching under her ribbon.

Only groaning here, with the occasional curse word. No hint of anything going wrong.

With Lord Baelish stuck in his office again - apparently, the tourney had strained the royal treasury a bit more than expected, probably because of the prize for the Battle of the Maidens, and the Master of Coin was busy keeping the realm afloat - the odds of catching anything incriminating were low to begin with. And…

Her eyes widened. Those were cries for help! She rushed over the roof, sliding the last yard down the slope, one hand grabbing the edge to stop herself from falling while she went over, and swung around, the other hand going for Gambol Shroud as she…

…saw a client getting manhandled out of the door by two of the bouncers while a girl was crying on the bed inside the room, holding her eye.

She didn't see or smell blood, so it was probably a bruise. Still… She pressed her lips together and climbed up on the roof again, then moved to the back of the building. The bouncers would throw the guy out the back, not the front.

And there he was, sprawling in the alley, his clothes thrown out as well, almost as an afterthought, cursing the prostitute and the bouncers - and everyone else while he pulled his pants on.

He didn't look rich or like a noble, Blake noticed. Would the bouncers have done the same if the woman had been assaulted by a noble? She didn't know. Maybe she should…

Her eyes narrowed as she spotted a small figure two roofs away, clinging to a chimney. Another spy. Another child spy, she realised when she caught them moving forward to look at the cursing former client.

The brothel was a bust tonight, but this had promise.

She quickly pulled back into the shadows cast by the sloped roof, then dashed down the roof to jump over the alley to the next roof. A few such leaps brought her behind the spy - who definitely was a child. But how to test her horrible suspicion? She couldn't capture the child without revealing herself and warning his employer.

She would have to shadow the spy.


Flea Bottom, King's Landing, Crownlands, Westeros, 298 AC

As she retreated from the shabby house where the little spy apparently lived - together with a dozen, at least, of other children - Blake felt sick. Sick and angry. Tailing the child had been easy; they might have been working as a spy, but they were still a child and never looked up even though they had been spying on the brothel from a roof themselves.

Finding this safehouse had not been a challenge, but keeping her temper once she realised that the house was eerily quiet for containing so many children, that none of them spoke a single word and rarely made any noise at all? That had been difficult.

Blake had managed, though she needed to blow some steam, and soon.

There was only one explanation for the eerie silence: All of the children were mute. Mutilated - their tongues cut.

Their master had a lot to answer for. Blake just didn't know, not yet, how she would demand those answers.


Street of Steel, King's Landing, Crownlands, Westeros, 298 AC

"Lady Yang!"

"Lady Yang!"

"Blessed Maiden!"

"My lady!"

"Sorry, can't stay and chat - important Maiden business!" Yang Xiao Long wished she had Ruby's Semblance as she dodged half a dozen people and all but ran to Mott's shop. When she found the door locked, she had a brief urge to punch a hole into it. What shop locked its door during the day? Right, things were different here.

Fortunately, Gendry must have been close since the door opened right away, and she slipped in just before another man reached her.

She let out a breath of relief while Gendry relocked the door. "Those people are crazy!"

Gendry stared at her for a moment before he shrugged, but he looked embarrassed. "They are just strong in their faith. You are one of the Four Maidens blessed by the Seven, my lady."

Yang narrowed her eyes at the big lug - he was almost as big as the King, though not fat at all - but Gendry had turned away and was walking towards the forge in the back. She was tempted to make a comment about how crazy it was to think Yang of all people was blessed by the gods of this land, but she knew - boy, did she know, after the riot and their hours-long visit to the sept! - how seriously people here took their religion. They were willing to kill people over it. That no one had died so far was a miracle.

She blinked at her own unintended pun, shook her head and entered the forge. "Yo!"

"Lady Yang." Mott nodded at her. He was working on a sword, she noticed.

She took a closer look - she could go over the latest version of her maintenance tools later. "That looks like it contains more gold than steel."

Gendry half-stifled a chuckle, but Mott snorted. "It will cut as well as any other blade I made from steel. The inlays do not diminish it."

"Except for the added weight," Yang said. Gold was heavier than steel, and you needed more material than with a pure steel blade to begin with if you didn't want to compromise its strength.

Mott shrugged again. "The client insisted."

"And the customer is king, right?" Yang grinned.

Gendry looked confused. "That's not for the King, though, I thought."

Mott chuckled. "We've got a similar saying in Qohor. It's probably not common in countries with an actual king."

Yang nodded. "Yeah, probably." Oops. Had he already known that they didn't have a king back home? Well, it didn't really matter. "So… any progress with mechashift?"

Now he scowled at her. "If I had not seen your weapons shift, I would believe you had been lying to me."

"Yeah, it's hard to forge such a weapon with the steel here, but if anyone can manage it, it'd be you."

He snorted at her compliment. "I would need to sell far more blades like this to afford more such attempts."

She hoped he was kidding; she hadn't thought a primitive mechashift weapon would be that expensive. "Well, you could recoup it easily - just find a stupid noble willing to pay a fortune for a curiosity."

"I am sure the sept would pay what price you asked to have such a weapon, Master," Gendry cut in.

"The Fat Septon would expect it as a gift to honour his gods," Mott said with a scowl. "And if I refused, a few remarks would see this house pillaged and us two dead."

"Surely not, Master! The Seven would not allow that!"

Yeah, right. Once again, Yang swallowed what she thought about that argument. She had another, anyway. "Would he really? I think everyone in the street knows you're our friend."

Mott was still frowning. "And once you leave?"

Oh. Right. She nodded with a slight wince. "Yeah, that would be bad, probably." Actually, now that she thought about it… What would happen to their friends here if Team RWBY left? Would the Queen be as petty as to go after them? She snorted. Of course, the Queen would go after them! She would have to discuss that with the others.

"The Hand of the King likes your work, Master," Gendry pointed out. "Surely, even if the Seven would not step in, the High Septon would not dare to go against him - people say he is closer to the King than the King's brothers."

Well, they were right. Yang nodded. The King didn't hate his brothers, but when he made fun of them, his jokes were a bit cruel; he never went that far when he made fun of Lord Eddard.

Mott shook her head. "Men in power - and women, too - have ways to work around such things, boy. If the Queen wanted you dead, the only way to save yourself would be to flee to Essos."

Gendry frowned. "But the Seven have ruled; who would dare to go against their will?"

"There are always people who think they know better than the gods, boy."

Yang nodded in agreement.

Gendry frowned at that for a few seconds. "Is that why you said I should, once I finish my apprenticeship, travel to Essos to learn more about our craft?"

Mott scoffed. "Boy, without travelling and learning new things, you won't ever surpass me."

Yang knew an evasive answer when she heard one; Ruby had tried the same when she had been younger. "Is there any trouble?" she asked.

"No," Mott said.

But Gendry looked pretty mulish. Like Ruby, when you told her she couldn't have more cookies. Or the Prince when Team RWBY refused to show off what they could do with Dust. "If there's anything we can do to help…"

Mott shook his head. "There's no problem."

Yang also knew a lie when someone told it to her. Well, most of the time. Probably. But definitely here. "Who wants to hurt Gendry?" The lug was like a teddy bear. A teddy bear the size of a young Ursa, with muscles like an ox, but almost as nice and honest as Ruby.

Mott frowned at her. "We've drawn too much attention from the Court. Too many important visitors. People can get the wrong impression from that."

Yang frowned back. "What kind of wrong impression? Don't tell me that this is about another marriage proposal!"

Mott blinked, then laughed while Gendry blushed. "No, no!" Mott said. He hesitated a moment. "They could mistake Gendry for someone else."

Gendry looked as confused as Yang felt. Mistake an apprentice smith for someone else? Someone connected to the Court? That made no sense at all! Why… She stared at the boy and blinked. He was tall and muscular. And that hair. Add some wrinkles and a lot of fat…

Oh.

Mott nodded.

"What do you mean, Master?" Gendry asked. He wouldn't get it - he probably had never seen the King up close, or at all.

Yeah, Yang would also have to talk with her friends about that.