Game of Thrones: King of Magic (Game of Thrones / Fate/Grand Order)

[mirzael]

Kinvara. Winterfell.

The royal family, along with Lord Stark and his daughters, and their wolves, of course, slowly left the castle grounds while Lady Stark and I watched them stare at one of the walls. Robb, accompanied by Bran and Rickon, went to the Weirwood to make time for the Old Gods and also to relax a bit. Maester Luwin and Sir Rodrik were putting things in order after the king's visit, and life in the castle was slowly returning to normal.

Things were going relatively well. The Starks were able to come out of this Arya and Prince incident victorious and gain some benefit for themselves. However, it was still unclear exactly how the events in King's Landing would play out.

I frowned my eyebrows slightly.

Of the Baratheon small council, only two can cause trouble: the Master of Coin and the Master of Whispers, Petyr Baelish and Varys, respectively. While the motives of the former can be foreseen and acted upon, the latter is more difficult.

According to the information Petyr once had feelings for Lady Stark and still does. That means he will try to influence either Lord Stark himself or his daughters. He may hold a grudge against Lord Stark, but it's not certain yet. Besides, before my king and I arrived, Lady Stark corresponded with him quite often.

Varys is more complicated. There's literally nothing to be said about him, only that he was made a eunuch by some half-breed sorcerer. He may despise magic, but that would have no effect on the Stark family for obvious reasons. In theory.

Also, there's no telling when my king will come for me or head to King's Landing. According to the High Priestess of Braavos, he still hasn't visited the temple of the Lord of Light, but he has come to the doors of the Black and White House. My king's interest is understandable, for the Many Faced God is very versatile and also commands Death.

I wonder how soon I will be able to accompany him again?

I shifted my gaze toward Lady Stark, still looking off into the distance.

- "Lady Stark," I began, to which she turned her attention to me, "What do you wish to speak to me about?"

- "Was it noticeable?" Tilting her head, she asked.

- "Otherwise you would have gone after Robb. You do value family, after all," I smiled. "So, what's on your mind?"

- "I received a letter the other day. From Petyr."

Hmm? Interesting.

- "What did he write?"

Lady Stark silently pulled the letter out of her dress pocket and handed it to me. I unfolded it and read it.

The beginning of the letter was ordinary and boring: typical greetings and questions about my well-being. It was followed by a paragraph on the changing contents of Lady Stark's letters. As I understand it, this is when my king and I began to bring up the subject of her official duties and discretion. But the last part of the letter, which was the bulk of it, was set aside for....

- "Do not listen to them. They only want to destroy our friendship and poison your mind. You remember how good we were together, right? Me, you and Lisa, ever since we were kids. Don't let the words of two strangers drag down what we've been through. Please text me if something like this happens again. And I'll do my best to dispel your doubts and punish the instigators, huh?" I grinned, "Interesting choice of words, isn't it?"

- "What do you think of that, Lady Kinvara?" Lady Stark asked without changing her expression.

- "Do you want a straight answer or should I soften it a bit?"

- "Straightforward, please."

- "Pure manipulation, Lady Stark. From the very beginning of the paragraph to the very end. But you realized that yourself, didn't you? I take it almost all the letters were written in this fashion?" I asked, to which I received a short nod, "Interesting, interesting. But what do you want to hear from me? And why such confidence in my person?"

- "Not in you, Lady Kinvara, but in Solomon, because my son is alive now thanks to him. He's also the reason my children have grown up faster. And as a mother, I don't want that, but I understand the need, given current events," she said in a calm tone, "I'd like to know what I should do about Petyr. Wouldn't Ned and the children be in danger of being exposed?"

- "Hmm..." I mumbled thoughtfully, "I suppose you should hide your knowledge. For now. I suggest we wait for news from Lord Stark when he's settled in Red Castle and knows what's going on inside. We may be able to capitalize on your position."

- "I think so, too," she nodded, "In that case-"

Suddenly the earring in my ear glowed a soft scarlet light, and I pressed the ruby, apologizing to Lady Stark.

- "I'm listening." I said and prepared to hear a status report. However...

- "Good afternoon, Kinvara. I hope I am not intruding?"

- "My King! You have remembered me!" I exclaimed happily, ignoring the presence of prying eyes, "What can I do for you?! Are you going to take me away?!"

Finally, after all this time, I heard my king's voice again. Out of nowhere, strength rushed through my body, and any signs of fatigue or malaise were instantly gone, giving way to enthusiasm and desire. A gigantic flame of emotion burned brightly in my heart, making it impossible to contain it even for a moment.

Seeing my condition, Lady Stark shook her head and left.

- "Give him my best wishes, Lady Kinvara." she said goodbye, leaving me alone.

- "Calm down, Kinvara, how could I forget about you," my king said in a soft voice, "I will come for you, but later. For now, tell me how things are going in Winterfell."

I was a little upset that I wouldn't be able to accompany my king, but I recovered quickly. After all, it is necessary to fulfill his wish, even as minor as this one.

- "Of course! First of all..."

-0-

Solomon. Braavos.

- "Thank you for the information, Kinvara. You have been of great help."

- "It is not necessary. I am truly glad to have been of use to you, my king," she said, "I look forward to your coming to fetch me."

So, rather interesting.

The Crown Prince of the realm is showing signs of a typical tyrant, which means he won't live long and will be a figure in someone else's hands. Sansa becomes shrewd and starts thinking strategically and acting on the information she gets and analyzing what she sees. Robb won the duel using my gift, the King took both Ned and his daughters to King's Landing, and Lady Stark finally became more careful and cautious.

Jon's act of leaving Winterfell for the North was no surprise either. Because of my influence, I don't know good or bad, his purpose in life changed. Previously, he only wanted to prove his worth and make Ned and the entire Stark family proud of him, but now Jon wants to... see the world, I guess.

Magical training has become his second wind as well as his interest. And the white walkers seen by the Night's Watch deserter spurred Jon to move in that direction. Beyond the Wall. For in this way he satisfies two of his interests at once.

Durandal will protect him from adversity, so there's no point in worrying too much about his life, and his wolf will support him.

Speaking of which. It's funny that it's the white wolf that follows John. The color white symbolizes purity and purity, which is in keeping with the character of Ned's bastard. However, this color also symbolizes coldness and loneliness, which, perhaps, will somehow manifest itself in the future. The lines of the prophecy quoted by Kinvara immediately come to mind, and hopefully the sacrifice part can be avoided.

Shiro also told me of news regarding the second contender for the role of Azor Ahai. Daenerys has made the decision to marry a Dothraki Khal in hopes of obtaining his great Khalasar. A purely political decision, I'd say. She simply has no other source of an army, and she knows nothing about the power of the Servants. At least not yet.

But Shiro also mentioned that the beginning of her marriage was hopeful, as her newly minted husband wasn't an outright savage. They might even work something out, who knows.

There was some information that even made me laugh a little.

Semiramis is very fervently expressing her displeasure at my leaving and 'dumping all the work on her and Shiro', and it's really funny. Maybe we should give them a vacation? In a year or two, so they can relax and decide if they want a full rebirth in this world. Shiro is a bad liar, and did he really think I wouldn't realize that?

But it's time to get back to Kinvara.

- "Sure. I think it'll happen pretty soon, since I plan to do it before I head to King's Landing."

- "Understood."

- "Then see you later, Kinvara."

- "See you later, my king."

And at those words, the ruby in the earring faded, whereupon I removed it from my ear and handed it to the woman in front of me.

Her name was Lina, and her appearance was conventionally attractive. Long dark red hair tied in a braid over her right shoulder. And bright turquoise eyes that had a childish mischievousness in them, even though they looked about thirty years old. The clothes she wore consisted of a full scarlet-colored dress and a belt with a small pouch attached.

She and I were in a spacious stone hall, in which stood a large brazier with a brightly burning flame in it. There was a stone heart carved into the wall near the ceiling, with fire blazing in it and shadows of darker material around it.

The hall itself was rectangular in shape, and the path from the front doors to the brazier was accompanied by columns reaching all the way to the ceiling. Banners bearing the symbol of R'Glor were also present, hanging from the columns and walls, which shone in the sun with a golden light.

- "My king, eh? You really are dear to the High Priestess of Kinvara, aren't you?" The woman chuckled, accepting the earring.

- "I suppose I am. Is there a problem?" I asked with a tilt of my head.

- "No, not at all. I find it amusing because the usual demeanor of the High Priestess of Kinvara is cold, calculating, and a little haughty, but with you she is like a young girl in love. It's fun to watch," she said with a wry laugh. "What else can I do for you, Lord Solomon? You didn't come here just for that, did you?"

- "That's true, Lina. I recently had a conversation with the eldest son of the current Sea Lord."

- "Oh? Velano, isn't it? He's a nice boy. Attentive and helpful, and most importantly, intelligent. One of our priests speaks well of him as well," she nodded, "May I ask what the conversation was about?"

"The boy"? I wonder what kind of history happened between them if that's what she calls him? Embarrassing, I suppose, and perhaps intimate.

- "He's interested in Tarmo Fregar's affairs regarding his younger brother. Do you know anything about that?"

- "Hmmm..." she mumbled thoughtfully, acting like a young schoolgirl and tapping her chin with her index finger, "Tarmo is a rather secretive type of person who likes to work in public. His interactions with our temple are minimal, aside from his words about respecting all existing beliefs, but that's about it."

I see. Both Lina and Velano say the same thing about him, so there's no point in doubting their words. However, how exactly did Velano's younger brother change so quickly? Considering his brother's words, there were two possibilities - either there was a mage in Tarmo's entourage who specialized in hypnosis, or a Mystic Code that could have a similar effect had fallen into his hands.

- "Was he not wearing something unusual, or did he have someone suspicious with him? The Red Priests have magical senses and would probably have noticed something like that."

- "I can't say about the object, as we can't detect such a thing. Tarmo himself could have hidden it," Lina shook her head, "But his entourage? It's hard to say for sure. He has a bodyguard with him at all times, who has been working for him for five years or more. A mercenary with a stern face and tanned skin who came from Sunspear. The rest of Tarmo's entourage ranges from magisters and Keepers of the Keys to the occasional merchant or wealthy family."

- "Nothing, then?"

- "Unfortunately," she nodded and was silent for a few seconds, then continued, "However, I can give you the opportunity to see him in person and get to know him for yourself. "

- "Hmm. Interesting."

- "Tarmo is holding a banquet in a couple of days to thank those who support him, as well as to demonstrate the weight of his candidacy and its pros. Everyone who has even a modicum of power in this city is invited. You may attend the banquet on behalf of the Red Faith, but given your conversation with the boy, you may go with him as well. It's up to you."

I wondered.

If I go on behalf of the Red Faith, my stance towards Tarmo in the eyes of all present is neutrality, and my purpose is to probe the ground. This will allow me to act freely and independently of the others.

On the other hand, if my visit there is in Velano's company, I will gain a deliberately biased position towards myself. Braavos is a bustling city, and there are eyes and ears at every turn. That means that someone knows about Velano's endeavors. And that "someone" will definitely be at the banquet.

Plus, I'll get some unwanted attention. Velano is the eldest son of the current Sea Lord, and when he brings someone unknown, and lets them so close to him, it will arouse the interest of everyone who sees us. And so...

- "I will attend the banquet on behalf of the Red Faith."

- "As you wish, Lord Solomon. Be at the temple in two days at noon, and we'll head to the banquet from there."

- "We?" I raised an eyebrow.

- "Of course. I can't leave 'my king' unaccompanied, can I?" Lina said with a teasing smile.

I let out a small chuckle, and then wondered.

It seems that something intriguing awaits me in two days. Definitely.

-0-

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[mirzael]

Jon Snow. Near the Wall.

Night had fallen, and so we decided to organize a break in a small cave. Our group was already relatively close to the Wall, or rather to the western part of it, where the Northern Mountains ended.

The snow, undisturbed by the blizzard, was slowly settling to the ground, covering our tracks into the cave. The howls of wolves and the sounds of night birds could be heard in the distance, and the light of the moon illuminated the surroundings with a bright glow that made the treetops visible even at this time of day.

I sat quietly by the crackling fire, stroking Ghost at my side at the same time. Cid sat across from me, examining his bow, while Mara lay on the other side of the fire with a hand on her head, thinking about something.

When I'd left Winterfell, it hadn't occurred to me that I'd be in a group with the Free Folk and none of them would try to kill me. Perhaps I would meet up with someone from the Night's Watch and he would escort me to the Wall. Though given what my father said about this place and its current state, I don't even know what exactly would have happened.

Remembering my father, home, Winterfell, came into my thoughts. I wonder how they are doing? Lord Stark is probably holed up in his study again, Lady Stark is spending time with the younger children, Robb is practicing on the playground under Ser Rodrik's supervision, Sansa and Lady Kinvara are chatting about this and that, and Arya is tormenting Fou when she finds him.

A smile appeared on my face by itself, remembering my time in the castle.

It was rather... uncomfortable at first, considering Lady Stark's past attitude towards me. I am a bastard and I was well aware that I had no claim to anything. All I wanted was family and recognition. And I got it all when Lord Solomon arrived at the castle. Lady Stark, instead of outright hatred, had been indifferent or ignoring me. Now she turns a blind eye to her children spending time with me. And not just her children, but Lord Stark's as well. Before, I couldn't just walk into his office and just talk. And that really brought me joy.

And now I have what I wanted. But now I have another goal. Two, actually. Listening to Lord Solomon's stories made me want to see the world. To explore it, and its mysteries.

Magic.

A great power that ignited in me a passion to explore. How many secrets and mysteries does this world hold? I wanted to know them all. And one of them was my sword.

I slowly pulled out the scabbard that held Durandal and exposed the blade, placing it in front of my eyes.

Cid and Mara didn't pay much attention to it, as they realized I wasn't pointing it at them. And besides, I did it quite often. The ghost, sensing that my hand was no longer stroking its fur, stood up and walked toward Mara, then settled near her head. The free woman grinned and took over stroking him, giving me a snide look. But I wasn't distracted.

I was interested in the stains on the blade. No matter how much I rubbed, I couldn't get rid of them. It was as if they were part of the sword, something I just couldn't understand. Even my Origin was unable to give me answers. All I recognized was the name of the sword and that it was imbued with magic. Anything beyond that was sort of hidden.

I could find out what any other sword was made of, who it was forged by, or even its history, but not Durandal. "Understanding" gives me the ability to not just "understand" but to "study" and "notice". And my Origin tells me that I cannot get more information about the sword, not because Lord Solomon wished it so, but Durandal himself.

This one is like a door and a lock. It is the lock that will not allow the door to be opened, not the one who created it.

Hopefully, when Lord Solomon fulfills his promise and sees us, I can find out why he gave this particular sword and not something else. Speaking of promise...

I directed my gaze to Mara, who was stroking Ghost passionately. She noticed it and turned in my direction with a questioning expression.

- "What's the matter, idiot? Did you finally notice that your wolf isn't yours anymore?" She asked snidely, "Or are you cold and you want me to warm you up?"

- "Huh..." I sighed tiredly, already used to her character, and then grinned, "No, that's okay. I just remembered what you promised me."

- "Promised?" she raised an eyebrow, "Are you confused, you idiot?"

- "I remember you promised to tell me about the Free Folk if I told you about 'him', didn't you?"

She froze and adopted a thoughtful look. A little while later, she nodded to herself.

- "Hmmm... And you're right, you idiot. What do you want to know?"

- "Something general. That'll be enough," I said, putting the Durandal back in its scabbard and hanging it on my belt, "As I said before, there's virtually nothing known about the Free Folks except that they're just savages."

- "The Free Folks are divided into separate tribes, each with its own leader and something different from each other. Some are outright scum who can only kill and kill. In this the fans are partly right. Others are more intelligent and cultured. It's not new for them to negotiate or bargain with someone. But among all tribes, the main factor is strength. If you're strong, only an idiot would attack you. Well, like you. Fighting over territory or just because you want to is not uncommon. And we don't take orders from anyone."

- "What about the King-beyond-the-Wall?" I heard that he commands all the Free Folk.

- "He's partly in charge," Mara corrected me, "If more than half the tribes elect him, he's already King-beyond-the-Wall. We don't have the idiocy of passing the title on to children. At least not this one. And that only happens if the tribes' goals are aligned. Otherwise, everyone acts apart from each other."

- "I see," I nodded, "And what tribe do you and Cid belong to? I saw his wristband. It was well-made, with a symbol of an arrow and a moon carved into it. I don't think that's common among the Free Folk."

- "What makes you think we're from the same tribe?"

- "The way you were talking to him. You definitely know each other. And for quite some time. You said yourself that skirmishes between tribes are not uncommon, didn't you?"

Mara remained silent and stared at my face, as if studying it. It went on for about five seconds.

- "I guess you're not such an idiot, huh? - she finally grinned, "We-"

- "Mara." Cid interrupted her, and I'd forgotten he was even there. He was quietly and enthusiastically working on his bow. He looked at Mara sternly, as if to stop his story.

- "What?" she raised an eyebrow. "My grandmother taught me to keep my promises. You too, by the way."

- "The Elder said nothing about outsiders. The boy is not part of the tribe, much less the Free Folks."

Elder? So Mara's grandmother is a significant figure in the tribe. I can see why Cid listens to her to a certain extent. The men who attacked me called her a "witch," which means she's versed in magic. I guess I was lucky to meet exactly Mara and her group.

- "We're taking him to us anyway," Mara shrugged, "And stop being so suspicious. He's not the enemy. You've already checked that, haven't you?"

In response, Cid chose to remain silent and return to his bow, while Mara continued.

- "Our tribe acts independently of the others. More than the others, to be more precise. We are the Moon Arrow Clan," she said proudly, "We don't care about the others, and they don't care about us. Mostly because we are the best archers amongst all the Free Folk."

- "Oh?" I was surprised.

- "It is worn by those who have proven their skills and are among the small number of us who are only a step below the Elders themselves. They are the ones who take over the clan if the elders can't for some reason. Their wielders are the main force of the clan, called 'Arrows'," she then pulled out an arrowhead from under her clothes on a string hanging around her neck and showed me, "I am part of the 'Tip', the part of the clan that deals with outings and hunting. There's also the "Crest", "Plumage" and "Tail", dealing with most of the day to day affairs, management and crafting respectively. As you can see, we are very well organized, not like the others."

How interesting.

All of this she told with great pride, and there is indeed much to be proud of here. I doubt most tribes have such a clear division of responsibilities. It's almost similar to how people here in the Seven Kingdoms do.

- "I see. Thank you for the answer," I nodded and straightened up, heading for the cave entrance, "First shift is mine, as agreed. I'll wake you when yours comes up."

- "As you wish," Mara waved me off and yawned, "Don't freeze your brains off, or you'll be a feeble-minded idiot instead of just 'idiot'."

Positioning myself at the entrance, I began my watch. Sure enough Cid would be awake and watching me, wary of my unforeseen actions.

He was very skillful. I saw with my own eyes how he hit a deer in the eye from a distance of five hundred paces. The shot was of such force that it killed the beast instantly, penetrating the skull through regardless of the distance traveled. His knife skills are also impressive. His movements are smooth and confident. I don't think I can beat him in a fight, if there is one.

But that doesn't bother me, as I'm perfectly fine with a visit to their clan. I just want to talk and learn about the White Walkers and the secrets of the North beyond the wall.

I breathed in the cool air coming into the cave and looked up at the sky.

It's really nice weather today...

-0-

Shiro Kotomine. Plains.

A beautiful sunset adorned the evening sky. Khalasar paused to prepare for the night, setting up tents and organizing campfire sites. This was mostly done by the women with a little help from the men. And Semiramis and I stood by while all this was going on.

Khalasar was joined by a resident of Westeros who gave books to the princess. And it's quite interesting.

Jorah Mormont.

After searching my head for information on this surname, I managed to find something. The Mormoths own Bear Island, which is in the North of the Seven Kingdoms. That's a long way from here. This man just expressed a desire to join, and the Khal allowed it, which shows that Mormont has been here for a long time.

I wonder what the story behind this man is.

I directed my gaze towards the largest tent that was being pitched right in the center of the camp.

This morning, the princess had come out in a... unhappy mood. She limped slightly as she walked, and her expression was a bit pained. The effects of the first wedding night, I suppose.

This was confirmed by Lord Solomon's former maid, Fina, who followed the princess around, helping her with her business. According to her, Khal was not a fan of gentle sex and was overreacting, to say the least, since the princess was a virgin.

Semi only snorted and brushed it off, saying what else did she expect from the Dothraki, who had a reputation for savagery. Though afterward she added that it would be a good idea to teach the princess how to beat a woman. Fina took the hint, and then went about teaching Dany.

I, on the other hand, being a native of more modern times, could only shake my head at the situation. However, I could understand why the princess put up with it.

Lord Solomon has asked Seven and I not to show our Servant abilities as much as possible. I believe he wants the Princess to understand her actions and their consequences. If it were my will, this would have been resolved very quickly with the help of Seven's Noble Phantasm. Dany wouldn't need an army to accomplish her goals if the Hanging Gardens of the Seven.

A flying fortress capable of firing projectiles that could wipe out entire cities. Impregnable, powerful, and majestic.

Semi herself has expressed her displeasure as well. Though this land reminds her of Assyria, she is not happy with the current situation. Though, with my help, her resentment and discontent have been managed.

And they were only intensified by the Dothraki's attempts to endear themselves to Seven. The stares, and not only stares, of both men and women of Khalasar sometimes made her furious. I had to intervene, acting as a defender of honor. Fortunately, I was able to resolve the conflicts without resorting to the power of a Servant. Semi herself looked pleased with herself afterward and looked at the brave men with a defiant look, as if urging them to act.

I sighed tiredly.

Sometimes my beloved can be overly petty.

- "Did you think something bad of me, Shiro?" As if reading my thoughts, the irritated Semi asked.

- "How could I, my love?" I smiled, "You're either good or bad."

And after a second I realized that my choice of words was definitely not the best.

- "You're sleeping on the floor tonight." she said flatly and turned away.

- "Whatever you say, Semi." I grimaced and looked out over the horizon.

I wondered when Lord Solomon would order us to act.

-0-

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[mirzael]

Eddard Stark. The Kingsroad.

It has been two days since I left Winterfell. It was early morning as the soldiers built fires to warm themselves and prepare food for themselves and the higher ranks. I, on the other hand, was in my tent with my daughters and thinking about the journey.

So far, everything was going quite smoothly. There was no bandit or wildling who dared to attack the royal procession, which made it rather... boring.

My usual routine of waking up and occupying my office, sorting through papers, was broken. No reports from spies, orders for castle servants, sorting out problems or prioritizing cases. And because of this, I just didn't know what to do to keep myself busy.

Thoughts of Robb and the piling on of my responsibilities sometimes came to mind, but they were quickly dispelled as he is being helped by Kat and Lady Kinvara.

Next, I thought of Jon traveling to the North. Even though no letter had come from him, something told me he was well. His path lies beyond the Wall, which will cause him to have to go through the Night's Watch. I warned him about the current state of the once honorable Order of Protectors, and I don't know how it will go. After all, either the Watch Rangers or those they want to get rid of are allowed beyond the Wall.

He'll probably stay there for a while. The Night's Watch will send a raven to Winterfell to make sure his passage is coordinated with me. Even if he's a bastard in their eyes, but he's "my" bastard. They will want to validate the point that I won't come over their heads for his passage into the wildling lands.

That leaves Solomon, who I have not heard from yet. Last time I contacted Halon of their Pentos, he was on his way to Braavos to get to know the Faceless Ones better. I'm guessing something about magic or something similar.

He also mentioned Solomon's actions regarding the surviving Targaryen princess. According to Halon, she was able to impress him, which is rather... unexpected. I doubt her training was any different from the other training meant for noble ladies. The same Kat's, to be more specific. So it is indeed unexpected.

Solomon gave her two men he brought her out of nowhere to do her training. What kind of training I don't know, but I don't think it's anything trivial. He doesn't want to bring her to Westeros, does he? Aside from that, she had a brother. Really, where he is now, no one knows.

I shifted my gaze to Arya and Sansa, who were doing something together, and walked over to them. They were rummaging through one of the bags, laughing quietly and sticking their hands in it. Lady and Nymeria, their she-wolves, were lying quietly beside them and still sniffling.

- "What are you doing?" I asked, getting behind their backs.

- "Nothing!" Jumping up on the spot, they said quickly and in unison, quickly taking their hand out of the bag and closing it. Of course, I didn't believe it.

- "And what are you hiding, young ladies?" I decided to ask, smiling slightly, "It seems to be something fun?"

- "Well..." Arya hesitated, glancing cautiously in Sansa's direction.

- "It's..." the latter did the same.

Seeing this sight, I couldn't help but smile. It's great to see the manifestation of their childhood when you know they've grown up. Sansa, who is starting to comprehend the Game, in particular. She has, to some extent, begun to parody Cat and Lady Kinvara, hiding her real intentions and wearing a perpetual fake smile. Somehow Sansa realizes what awaits her at Red Castle.

And Arya...still Arya. She hasn't really changed much in the same direction as Sansa, quite the opposite. Solomon's stories allowed her to open up, completely abandoning her "lady" demeanor and becoming herself.

Just like Lyanna...

The next moment, the bag behind their backs stirred. Another moment later, long fluffy ears, just like a rabbit's, came out. Behind them came out and a tiny head covered in white fur, with violet beady eyes, which made me clearly realize who it was.

- "Fou, fou, kyu!" Making an indignant face, the White Eater declared and scratched his ear with his paw.

- "Hm?" I was surprised, "You brought Fou with you? I don't think he belongs in Red Castle. It would have been safer to leave him in Winterfell. After all, he is Solomon's pet, girls."

- "No," Arya shook her head and took him out of her bag and hugged him with her arms, "He climbed into my bag on his own before I saw him. We only found him today when we saw him running away with the food."

- "Uh-huh. Besides, I don't think he's in any danger. You know as well as I do that if he doesn't want to be found, he won't be found." Sansa nodded, and then began stroking Fou's head affectionately.

- "Huh..." I sighed tiredly, glancing at the three of them, "I'm worried that missing food is going to become a new problem, not only for Red Castle, but for all of King's Landing. And my desk as Hand of the King will have even more to do."

And that is indeed the case. If I think back to the amount of food he devoured at Winterfell, I wouldn't be surprised if Fou outdid even Robert on his hungriest day.

- "Fou, kyu!" Fou squealed and broke free from Arya's embrace. Then he stood on my shoulder and started tapping his paw on my cheek as if to express his displeasure.

- "Yeah, yeah, you're not that voracious," I grinned and scratched him behind his ear before handing him back to Arya. "Anyway, it's advisable not to show him to the public, especially not to the prince. Considering what happened back home, I don't think he's going to give it up."

Arya nodded, and Sansa hesitated.

- "That may be true, but it's also possible that we can use it." She muttered.

- "What do you mean by that?" I asked.

- "Lady Kinvara said something about that. If the prince tries to take or, God forbid, kill Fou, we'll have leverage against the Lannisters or the royal family. She said rumors and gossip are powerful, and how will the vassals react when they hear something like, "The prince has a habit of taking things by force"? And not from anyone, but from us Starks? It's not just our own subordinate lords who will be alarmed, but the other lords of the Seven Kingdoms as well. It's almost a direct insult, after all. Perhaps it's just a pet, but who knows what will come after it."

- "Ouch?" Arya snidely interjected into the conversation, "As if you'd give Lord Solomon's pet offense."

- "Shush." Sansa hissed, to which she received a giggle from her younger sister and a smirk from me. But it quickly faded as I considered her words.

- "Sansa, His Majesty is my friend. And I know he supports far from all of his son's wishes. He has eyes, though not always," I said, rubbing my temples, "But about the Lannisters... I don't know the relationship between the prince and Tywin, so I can't say. He's the head of the family, after all, and he's smart and cunning. We'll find out when we've scouted the situation."

- "Good." She nodded, and I sighed tiredly.

Where is my sweet and gentle Sansa? I think I'm getting old.

After a while, while I, my daughters, and Fou spent time together, a soldier dressed in a golden cloak entered the tent.

- "Lord Stark." he saluted and bowed.

- "What is it?"

- "His Majesty calls you to share breakfast with him," he said, "I am here to escort you. Fou had already tucked himself back into Arya's bag, and Arya herself was chatting with Sansa about something, completely ignoring what was going on."

Well, it really wasn't any of their business.

- Okay," I said after a moment's thought and stood up, heading towards him, "Lead the way."

-0-

The golden cloak led me to a small clearing where a small table was set up. Robert was already sitting at it, and when he saw me, he smiled and greeted me as the soldiers departed, leaving only us in the immediate vicinity.

A little farther away, subordinates were spreading food, packing up tents and packing on horses and carriages, preparing to continue on their way. I didn't see any Lannisters. Apparently they were still in their tent, for it was still standing.

- "How did my Hand sleep, Ned?" Robert grinned, calling for a seat at the table.

- "Unaccustomed, Your Majesty. Too much free time, I'd say." I waved him off.

- "To be expected. A trade contract with Pentos is a lucrative business, after all. I'd even borrow money from you if I didn't know the needs of your lands. And address me by my first name, at least for now. I'm the bloody king, and I authorize it."

So he knows? I'm not surprised. But Robert's right about the profits. There have been quite a few ravens arriving at Winterfell from knights or descendants of noble families who wanted to publish their memoirs. The most obvious indicator of wealth, I'd say. Well, and not a bad way to become famous and establish yourself as a suitable partner for noble ladies.

Though the service is expensive, it's not so expensive that the number of requests doesn't exceed a dozen. In addition, Pentos gets its share of fame, which has increased the turnover of money. According to Halon, at least.

- "Is that a problem?" I asked.

- "No. Pentos is just one free city. It has no interest in the Seven Kingdoms, unless it's for fame or money. Besides, it's far away. I've heard about the new Magister of the city. Quite a clever fellow. Varys says he's very capable, since he runs the city essentially single-handedly. If he were here in Westeros, I'd recruit him," Robert dismissed him, then looked at me intently, "Tell me, what is your 'magician' planning to do there? His actions make me a little nervous."

Nothing was reflected on my face, but a certain event popped into my mind.

Is he referring to the Targaryen survivors? Did the master over the whisperers get to them? But they, or rather she, are far away, on the other side of the world. She has no support, no army, no gold. At least not official gold.

However, his pathological hatred for this family explains everything. After all, a member of that family "stole" Lyanna from him. But I'll have to pretend I don't know anything. I don't want any trouble before it starts.

- "What do you mean?" I asked, looking confused. All I know is that he helped the current magician. But you said yourself that there's nothing wrong with that.

- "So you don't know?" He was surprised, and I nodded in the affirmative, "Then it's okay. Then you're not involved."

- "But I'd like to hear the details," I insisted, "What is it, Robert? You didn't talk about Solomon like that at Winterfell."

- "He's consorting with bloody dragons," he practically hissed, "and I don't like it. I plan to rid this world of these pests, and your 'magician' seems to support them. There were two of them present in Pentos: the girl and her brother, the last children of the Mad King. The brother had been gotten rid of, but not her yet. The whore sold her body to a Dothraki, a savage who can only rape and kill. And apparently, she wants his army to take revenge on us."

- "But they're still children, essentially. You want to be known as a baby killer?"

- "If that's the way this bloody family is going to go, so be it," Robert said emphatically, "You must understand me, Ned. This family has done no good. How many people would have died in vain if it hadn't been for the Kingslayer and us? There would be nothing left of the Seven Kingdoms."

- "I'm still against infanticide," I shook my head, "If she raises a sword against us, so be it, but not otherwise."

- "Hmm? Will you go against your king, Eddard Stark?" he asked defiantly.

- "No," I answered confidently, "I will do your bidding, even if I don't like it. But will we still be friends afterward? I'm not sure about that."

- "Then I hope it doesn't happen. I can trust very few people, especially now that John's dead. You're the only one I can rely on without fear of being stabbed in the back. That's why you're the new Hand. The whole damn Seven Kingdoms thinks I can only drink and shit, but I can't. I can smell the foul odor of intrigue in my castle, and I don't know when it will turn against me," Robert said, then looked at me. "Will you help me, Ned?"

- "Yes, Your Majesty."

- "In that case, let's eat! The food is already cold," he said, raising his glass of wine. I did the same and sipped, thinking about the events at the same time.

So, we'll have to prepare. I don't want me and my daughters to be eaten by snakes almost as soon as we arrive.

-0-

Solomon. Braavos.

On the morning of the appointed day, I left the Black and White House and went to the same bakery where I had met Velano. The bread there is indeed lush and delicious, bringing back fond memories of my days.

When I reached the stall, I was greeted by the same saleswoman as last time. Still with the same satisfied smile and ruddy face.

- "Oh, master, you're back?"

- "Good morning, my lady," I bowed and put three coins on the counter, "I'll have the same as last time."

- "Of course!" She smiled and handed me the bread.

But when I took it and turned towards the Red Temple, I suddenly felt that I was being watched. And from the third floor of the same bakery where I had just made the purchase.

The gaze was filled with nothing but interest, so there wasn't much point in worrying. But I was still intrigued by where it was coming from, and the reason for it.

Who owned this bakery? And what had interested its owner in me? Perhaps I would get answers at the banquet or later, but for now....

I took a bite of the bread and savored it well as I slowly walked to the Red Temple.

It was really good.

-0-

A/N: How's the chapter? Give us your opinion. You may well be able to influence future chapters.
My P.a.t.r.e.o.n: P.a.t.r.e.o.n.c.o.m/mirzael
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[mirzael]

Solomon. Braavos.

The setting sun was slowly sinking behind the sea as its rays softly illuminated the streets and buildings of the bustling city. Lina and I walked slowly towards the Tarmo mansion where the banquet was to be held.

It was located in the northeastern part of the city. It was where the Sea Lord's palace and the upper class Bravos were located. And its area was about a fifth of the entire city, which was divided into the Purple Harbor and the residential area.

I walked ahead of the group, indicating my supremacy in it. Lina followed right behind me and pointed the way, and the two priestesses rounded out the group. The High Priestess of Braavos had taken them with us as maids, and to show the status of our group. After all, only more or less important people are present at the banquet, and Lina obviously doesn't want to belittle her faith and god.

Their attire hasn't changed much: the same scarlet dresses and ruby necklaces that all the red priestesses and priests wear. But one item of clothing was added to them: a short black cape with red patterns and white edges. Lina insisted on these capes, reasoning that in this way it would show that she and the priestesses belonged to me.

I saw no need for it and even found such an action strange. Everyone knows that they serve R'Glor, but this tiny cape directly indicates that I am either him or someone above him. That's on the one hand.

On the other hand, she obviously wants to elevate the Red Faith in this way, since I am... an unusual person. Even if the people at the banquet don't know it. Aside from that, the capes will give weight to me as a person unknown to anyone, as well as negate the anonymity. To my questions, Lina only brushed it off and said that there were more benefits to be gained that way. Eventually I relented and left it at that, deciding to see what would come of it.

Our small group was on foot, something Lina had to put up with already. She wanted to use the palanquin, for obvious reasons, but it would be unnecessary, for I wanted to study the reactions to us.

The people who saw us, and especially Lina, either obediently parted and bowed, or they looked at me with genuine interest and tried to figure out who I was. The latter were far more numerous than the former, by the way.

But I could say that I had achieved my goal. The looks Lina and the priestesses received ranged from lust and praise to indifference and interest. No hateful or spiteful emotions I felt, which couldn't be more gratifying. After all, I was aware of the practice of burning heretics, at least until I arrived.

Without faltering, I looked at Lina.

She had a cheerful smile on her face that would have suited a young girl in her twenties. From time to time she giggled, winked flirtatiously, or waved her hand at people passing by, causing them to sprawl on the ground in a silly grin. The image of a mature and gifted woman behaving this way is... cute, I guess. It's like she was a teasing big sister, willing to listen and help, but with a witticism. A couple of funny jabs, to be exact.

So the time flew by, and we made our way to the venue. A really impressive three-story mansion appeared before my eyes. Everything in it looked rich: the roof covered with red tiles, walls of pure white stone, shaped gates and fences. Tall columns framed the entrance of the mansion, and the light of the sun reflected off the glass in the windows. Just by looking at this residence, it was safe to say that someone like Tarmo lived here.

Two guards were standing in front of the entrance, and when they saw our group approaching them, they bowed respectfully and let us pass, of course with a scrutinizing glance at me. A couple of minutes later, we found ourselves at the mansion, where a smartly dressed servant greeted us with a bow and led us inside.

Once there, the first thing that caught my eye was the ornate foyer, in the middle of which was a wide staircase with an almost proportionate patterned carpet. The gold jewelry blended well with the interior, creating a rather sophisticated picture. That is, without being too flashy or taking all the attention away.

Following the servant, we went up to the second floor and then turned right. And after a relatively long corridor, our group appeared in front of the double doors with the maids standing beside them. They bowed obediently and opened them, whereupon the light from within flooded my vision.

The spacious hall, which was lit by wall lamps and three giant chandeliers on the ceiling, was beautifully decorated with flowers and strips of fabric. Six round tables, spaced equidistantly so that one could walk between them comfortably, took up one-third of the total area of the room. And the servants wiggled between them and did their work.

There were already a decent number of guests arriving. My guess was about twenty people. Each of them looked well-groomed and dressed up, and the jewelry they wore glistened in the light. The women were dressed in long, sophisticated dresses that gave them sophistication, and the men were dressed in patterned suits that emphasized their figure and stateliness.

They were all divided into small groups, each with their own conversation going on. But the sound of the doors opening distracted them, so that all their attention was focused on our group.

Well, let's see how it goes.

-0-

Velano Antarion. Braavos.

Because of my status, I was one of the first to arrive at the reception. My father is old and weak, and I'm taking over most of the Sea Lord's work. This is a well-known fact, and it essentially means that I am Father's deputy at such events.

Even though the title isn't hereditary, it's not a matter of inheritance. In part. Upon my father's death, a share, or rather half, of the wealth he has gained will go to the city's treasury, either in possessions, items or jewelry, or in their monetary equivalent. Of course, this does not include what the father had before he took office.

But even with the share given away, our family is very wealthy, and therefore influential. Therefore, when I arrived at the reception, one by one, various guests approached me, intending to "say hello" and "show off." However, not all of them were like that.

- "Good evening, Master Velano. Subtle as always. How is your father?"

- "Thank you, Mistress Kirana. That green dress goes well with your eye color," I replied, wearing a slight smile, "Thank you for asking. My father is doing well, at least as far as his age allows. I didn't expect to see you at the reception. I assumed you'd gone to King's Landing again."

Standing before me was an attractive woman dressed in a light green dress. Her emerald-colored eyes, long wavy brown hair, and snow-white skin tone made her look light and graceful. Pretty soon she would be thirty-six years old, but she looked twenty-six to twenty-eight.

Kirana Satrion is an intelligent woman, and most importantly, very powerful. She is a jewelry merchant and has a street of artisans where the bulk of them are concentrated. Her ancestors fled Valyria when the cataclysm came there. Back there, her family practiced the same craft, making her wares highly sought after not only in Essos, but also in Westeros. On top of that, she's into magic, if you consider the books in her library.

As far as I know, she is single, but she once had a daughter. According to her, the child was stillborn. Kirana arranged for mourning and a funeral, which all of Braavos knew about. She did not attend any events, and a smile ceased to appear on her face. Of course, her trading activities sagged in both activity and income.

There were also a few rumors in town related to the event. And not the good ones, either. For the most part, people supported the idea of punishing the gods, which was condescending to Kirana.

But after a while, things quieted down. Bit by bit, she resumed her activities again, and a partly fake polite smile appeared on her face when the situation demanded it. Really, no one knows if that was really the case.

- "It was," she nodded, "But we came across a Stark ship being attacked by pirates. Of course, I couldn't pass up the opportunity, so I helped fight them off and escorted them to Pentos. Thanks to that, I was able to get a few advantages at the meeting with Master Halon."

- "I see. Fortune smiles upon you, does it not, Mistress Kirana?" I said, to which she covered her mouth with her hand and laughed softly.

At the same time inside, I frowned.

Why did she tell me all this? Normally, benefits are usually hidden and enjoyed alone. But this woman chose to share it with me. Her words could be written off as bragging, but after thinking about it for a bit, I realized something.

If she was talking to the Magister, then she knows about Solomon.

In this town, the more powerful you are, the more eyes and ears you have. I mean, Kirana has explicitly stated that she knows of my connection to someone who helped the current Master of Pentos. And I'm concerned about what she wants.

She might wish to increase her income and connections through Solomon, but that makes little sense. Her current endeavors don't really align with what Magister Halon envies. The printing presses that are found only in Pentos only put out works that pass through the Magister and his 'house of censorship'. And mostly the presses produced personal memoirs of wealthy individuals or books preaching the Red Faith. Then it hit me.

Recognizability.

The more recognizable the merchant and her product are, the more profit she can make. And this is not a matter of how wealthy her customers are. She may well produce jewelry of lower quality in order to catch neither the poor nor the rich, but those in the middle. After all, there aren't as many truly skilled jewelers and artisans as one would hope. And this way, Kirana will get more people under her command, artisans whose hands are not so skilled, and a wider reach of customers who will be able to afford their jewelry.

And it seems to make sense, but I felt like something was off. Like there was something else that I couldn't understand yet.

Plus, I haven't heard from Solomon himself. All I know is that he spends his time either at the Black and White House, going in and out of there when and how he wanted, and at R'Glor's temple, where he did the same.

Matiris, who was next to me, shrugged as well. All he knew was that Solomon was occupied with the High Priestess personally.

My brother is not here, which is strange. For that matter, Tarmo himself isn't here, yet. Perhaps they will arrive together? All I can do is wait and see. Solomon has given his word, and something inside tells me firmly that he will keep it.

And while I was pondering, the door to the hall opened, where a group of four people showed up: three women and one man.

One of the women was Lina, the High Priestess of the Temple of R'Glor. And seeing her made me inwardly cringe.

For as long as I could remember, I had almost always been teased by her. All because of something I had done as a child. At one of the meetings organized by a younger father, I was fascinated by her. I was hooked by her character and behavior, for this was the first time I had seen such a thing. She liked to joke, giggle, tease, and generally didn't act like others, which in no way matched her mature appearance. All this impressed me so much that I even asked her to be my wife.

Even then, I knew about magic and the peculiarities of the priestesses of the Red Faith. Not in all details, of course, but the question of youth was still included. So I, overflowing with childhood dreams and enthusiasm, did what I did. Lina herself only giggled and politely refused. A couple more years I made the same proposal to her, and the response was similar.

After a while, I outgrew that, putting it behind me, but the High Priestess's teasing from that event is still alive and well. She always calls me "boy" to remind me of my childhood crush times and cause embarrassment, even though I'm already twenty-four. I would even call her the teasing big sister I never had.

Embarrassing but fulfilling times, to make a long story short.

And the man was Solomon, who was not wearing the cloak that covered his clothes. And now that I got a glimpse of it, to say he was ordinary became impossible even for a blind man.

His robe looked so majestic and harmonious that if someone had called him a king or the highest priest of any faith, I would have instantly believed it. The combination of white, red, and black colors looked as if it had been personally designed for Solomon. And the serene and royal aura he possessed inevitably created the image of a "king". Strong, calm and wise.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that I was far from the only one who felt that way. Aside from the obvious sighs and blushing faces of the women, the impressed and intrigued men, and the stunned servants, I noticed the way Kirana looked at him.

There were few outward expressions, but the eyes... They naturally lit up as Kirana looked at Solomon, and her lips curved into a strange smile I couldn't understand.

Kirana's eyes followed Solomon continuously as he and his group made their way into the hall and stopped at one of the walls. So much so that she completely ignored everything else.

- "If you'll excuse me, Mistress Kirana, I need to greet the new arrivals. Red people are a rare guest at events like this." I said and headed towards Solomon's group. After all, it is a common practice for people like me. Matiris, on the other hand, followed me silently while Kirana still didn't move.

I imagine today's reception will be turbulent for Solomon. I only hope he'll be able to figure out something to do with my brother. If he comes, of course.

-0-

A/N: How's the chapter? Give us your opinion. You may well be able to influence future chapters.
My P.a.t.r.e.o.n: P.a.t.r.e.o.n.c.o.m/mirzael
You'll be able to read more chapters there.

 

[mirzael]

Solomon. Braavos.

Positioned against one of the walls of the hall, our group split up slightly. Lina made a gesture with her hand, and the two priestesses who had come with us, seeing it, went away. At the same time, I decided to study a bit of what was going on.

The banquet was buffet style, which was quite unusual. Winterfell used a long corner table, which was typical of the current era, and had a special seating system. In it, the most important people were seated in the center, and the less important the person, the farther away they were seated.

I suppose it was because Braavos and the Free Cities had once been under Valyria's control, and the tradition of banquets had been passed down from there.

Looking around, I noticed that Lina and I had attracted everyone's attention. Some were staring openly at our duo and whispering with others, but most were just cautiously watching us with their side-eye.

For the most part, the center of their attention was me, not Lina. Her whole appearance was that of an obedient servant, ready to satisfy her master's every whim at a moment's notice. And she was the High Priestess of the Red Temple, which is common knowledge.

The guests also noticed the capes that she and the priestesses wore. And because of this, they had a certain apprehension and caution, which came down to the fact that no one approached us, as they were waiting for the others to move. They didn't know who I was, but Lina's capes and demeanor definitely told them that commoner I was not.

In all the pile of stares I received, only one stood out in particular. It belonged to an attractive woman with memorably bright green, emerald-like eyes. And in it I could clearly read only two emotions - desire and interest. And extremely strong.

I wondered what caused it. This was the first time we met, and I would definitely remember someone like her. Though, I could feel a tiny amount of magic in her body. So much so that John would have looked like a titan from the myths of ancient Greece compared to her.

On the same side where the woman was standing, Velano was walking toward us, accompanied by the familiar Matiris. And, judging by his face, he was, to some extent, pleased to see me.

- "Greetings, Mistress Lina. You are still as refined and beautiful as ever since we last met. I wish that had never changed," he began, turning to her at once and pretending we hadn't met. A good move, I suppose.

The humility on Lina's face was quickly replaced by a teasing and amused smile. She gave Velano a demonstrative look from head to toe, and then giggled.

- "For the Lord of Light's sake, the boy has grown into an attractive young man. Perhaps I should reconsider your offer, Master Velano." Lina murmured, to which he sighed tiredly and shook his head, and Matiris smiled ironically.

- "And you still like to remind me of my childhood mistakes."

- "Why mistakes? You're not the first to wish the same thing, but you're the first to say it to my face."

Inwardly, I raised an eyebrow.

How interesting. They did have a history, and as I see it, it is known to everyone. None of the guests expressed the slightest bit of surprise at the way they were interacting.

- "...Let's skip this moment," Velano muttered, then turned to me, "Velano Antarion, eldest son and deputy to the current Sea Lord. Judging by the behavior of High Priestess Lina, you are someone of importance to the Red Temple. Who are you, my lord?"

- "Solomon. Just Solomon. Pleased to meet you, Master Velano," I said and bowed respectfully, "This is my first visit to such an event. And as for your question, you're right. In anticipation of your next question, it just happened."

My answer does not give, in fact, any information. But it is enough to understand what the attendees are dealing with. They can get more precise information either covertly or from my mouth. And this disposes to start a conversation. My tone also made it clear that a dialog with me was possible. They will want to talk to me, and so will I to them. Velano had made the first move, which meant he'd given the go-ahead to someone brave enough to make contact with me.

- "I see," he nodded, "In that case, enjoy the banquet. The organizer and owner of this place still hasn't arrived. So you have time to get to know the others. Braavos is a hospitable city. As long as you obey the laws. And now, may I bid farewell, Master Solomon, Mistress Lina."

After saying goodbye, Velano stepped aside and let the others take their turn.

He articulated his words very well. Velano backed up his authority by mentioning adherence to the law. He made it clear that everyone was equal before the law, even the Red Temple. And also, Velano indirectly pointed out that I was new to this city, which, to some extent, untied the hands of those present.

After he left, there was a lull again, though not the same as before Velano. The whispers between the guests became more intense. I suppose someone will be coming to us soon enough.

And while that wasn't happening, I decided to have a little talk with Lina about the woman whose gaze intrigued me. I would see Tarmo and Velano's brother anyway, based on the information I'd gotten, so there was no point in asking about them. Bye.

- "Lina, what can you tell me about her?" I asked, without specifying about whom. However, Lina understood everything perfectly well.

- "Oh, did you notice that look too? Reminds me of a predator, doesn't it? Kirana Satrion, a large merchant who owns a street of artisans. To say she's rich is to say nothing. In fact, nothing much, except for one thing."

- "Just one thing?" I raised an eyebrow.

- "She's very interested in magic, which is common knowledge and quite acceptable. Really, not as much as it actually is. Even to us, who are generally considered fanatics, she is one herself. I recall Kirana changing several faiths, including our own."

- "How strange. Can one leave the Red Faith?"

- "Of course," Lina said in a resentful tone, pouting her lips, "We've always been in favor of believing in the Lord of Light. If the novices who have just embarked on this path realize that they do not fit our vision of the world, our actions, or the Lord of Light himself, they are free to leave. What is the point of faith if it doesn't come from the heart?"

- "That's... pretty modern," I nodded to myself, then added humorously, "I wouldn't expect that from fanatics."

- "You flatter us," Lina chuckled, "But back on topic, Kirana is quite an interesting woman. She wasn't interested in any particular kind of magic, but in its very presence. As you know, every temple like ours has a library or its equivalent, and Kirana would linger there for very long periods of time, sometimes forgetting her trading activities. Books, scrolls, manuscripts. She absorbed information from all of it. And at an alarming rate. Our temple, the Weeping Mistress' temple, the Lion of Night and so on. But nothing more than that, just studying, which I find a bit odd."

How interesting. This woman's desire for knowledge is astounding. On the other hand, perhaps she knows she has magic, albeit a small amount of it, and is trying to learn all she can. But in that case, she should have been practicing, which I understand hasn't happened. After all, that's something Lina would definitely have noticed. What was her goal?

But, it's worth returning to the conversation. Or rather, the part I'm interested in.

- "Hmm... And you don't forbid it? The library may contain texts that are not meant for the eyes of someone like the novices, or am I wrong? When I've done that in the temple, I've had a fairly small number of people catch my eye."

- "Oh, such texts are indeed present, but they are elsewhere and under the care of the High Priestess of the local temple. I brought them to you myself, didn't I?" Lina smiled, "And as for your question, we always welcome the desire to learn. Without compulsion, of course. And if someone is not literate but has the desire, we teach them. In the end, those who learn increase their value, and we use them in the areas where they will be most useful to the Lord of Light."

- "Not bad. Rational use of resources," I nodded, "And burning?"

- "Unless it's voluntary, or an unforgivable sin has been committed. But getting back to Kirana's point, once she'd learned all she could in Braavos, Kirana started buying up manuscripts like this from all over the world. It wasn't hard, since after the fall of Valyria, it was Braavos that became the largest point of contact between Westeros and Essos. Honestly, thinking back to her time in our temple, I don't even want to know how extensive her collection on magic is now."

- "Hmmm... Is that it?"

- "I seem to have forgotten something..." she mumbled thoughtfully, "Ah, yes. Twenty years ago, when she was only sixteen, Kirana gave birth to a child, and no one still knows the name or appearance of the father. But as I recall, the child was born dead. Now, as then, she was officially single. That's it now."

'Dead'? I suppose it's not uncommon in this era. The level of medicine can't promise something like this with any certainty. Medicines and sterility are still difficult for people of this time.

That said, I still don't understand why I deserve such a look. My looks alone couldn't be the only reason. There was something else.

And while I was distracted by my thoughts, without my noticing, someone approached our duo.

- "It's rather rude to discuss someone behind their backs." A melodic and falsely judgmental female voice sounded next to us.

Looking up, I was met by the same woman who was throwing a predatory glare at me. True, it wasn't present now, as if it had never existed. There was only confidence and stateliness on her face.

- "The High Priestess had probably told me everything she could about me. It's to be expected, though, given her personality," she said with humor and a polite smile before bowing in greeting, "Kirana Satrion, humble merchant of Braavos. And you, sir?"

- "Oh? But you weren't back, were you, Kirana?" Lina snidely remarked and giggled, to which Kirana outwardly did not react in any way, but it was clearly evident that she had already come to terms with the High Priestess's character.

- "Solomon. That's good enough. Pleased to meet you," I replied with the same bow, "I assume you've known Lina for some time, Mistress Kirana?"

- "You're right. My stay in the Red Temple was not long, but it was long enough for us to develop a sort of... understanding."

- "I thought we were friends..." Lina took offense.

- "I daresay the High Priestess's behavior makes you uncomfortable, Master Solomon. I can only sympathize with you and wish patience to you." ignoring Lina, Kirana said comfortingly.

- "No, not at all. Although I find her a little strange, but it's nice to dilute the ordinary with something new, don't you think, Mistress Kirana?" Lina remained silent at my words, but she gave a resentful look, crossing her arms over her chest and turning her head to the side. Both Kirana and I chose not to react in any way.

- "I suppose you're right," she nodded, "Since we're off to such a good start, I'd like to invite you in for a glass of wine. How would you like that, Master Solomon?"

Hearing that, I raised an eyebrow inwardly.

Her offer is rather... hasty, I would say. Of course, that could be put down to her merchant's streak. As if she wants to gain an advantage by making contact with me first, and in a more familiar environment to get the most information out of me.

However, she didn't ask about my position in the Red Temple, though she did mention my status. This is usually done when the information is not really needed, or when everything is already known. In this case, the first option is obvious.

In short, such an offer comes only if the invitee is absolutely sure that he will get something. That is, having met several times beforehand or having obtained information about the invitee.

And Kirana invited me without knowing anything about me. Given what Lina said about her, her status in Braavos is extremely high, and I'm an unknown, even if the High Priestess of the Red Temple is accompanying me personally. It looks strange to say the least. Then again, what does she want?

As if hearing my internal debate, Kirana responded to it.

- "Master Solomon, don't get me wrong, I'm only inviting you because I'm interested in you," she said calmly, "There are few people who can accept the High Priestess' behavior, and even fewer who she respects and occasions. And I am truly interested in what kind of person has achieved both."

Hmmm... She wasn't lying. But along with that, there was an understatement in her words.

- "In that case, I will consider your offer."

- "That's more than enough." She nodded, and as if waiting for this very moment, the door to the hall opened, and all the guests instantly fell silent.

A stately and well-groomed man of about forty appeared in the passage, dressed in luxurious, but not excessive, clothes. He had light straight hair of short length, small stubble, brown eyes, calm and confident face, medium build and light, slightly tanned, skin color. And right behind him followed another man in light armor, with tanned skin and stern facial features.

The last was a young man of about eighteen, wearing rather plain clothes compared to the others present, and at his side hung a scabbard with a short sword. But the distinguishing features were the straight black hair coupled with turquoise eyes and a partially familiar face. All of this made him look like Velano, which meant that this young man was that younger brother. And if that's the case, the man is....

- "I see Tarmo has arrived," Kirana said calmly, "I still have some business to attend to, Master Solomon. We can continue our conversation later, but for now, I will take my leave. Have a nice evening."

With that, she walked off in another group of guests, leaving me and Lina behind. I, on the other hand, turned my gaze to Tarmo and wondered.

Let's see how this goes.

-0-

A/N: How's the chapter? Give us your opinion. You may well be able to influence future chapters.
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[mirzael]

Solomon. Braavos.

Upon his arrival, Tarmo immediately walked to the back of the hall and gave a short speech of thanks, his goals, and how he was going to run his business if he won the election. All in all, nothing much except for one thing.

Money.

As it turns out, the Crown of the Seven Kingdoms has a large debt to the Iron Bank. Large enough that everyone present at this event would know about it. And it wouldn't concern Braavos as a whole, were it that a portion of the bank's profits go to the city's treasury. That's not the main reason, though.

The people of this city are wealthy and quite proud. And judging by the looks on the faces of those present, they are, to put it mildly, not happy with the current state of affairs. In fact, most, if not all, realize the debt the Crown is in no particular hurry to repay. It's as if Braavos is simply being taken advantage of, while simultaneously disrespecting its inhabitants.

Since the city was formed by slaves and refugees from Valyria, its inhabitants don't like to feel like what their ancestors were. And Tarmo, having taken over as Sea Lord, plans to address that.

No, of course, it's not about war. At least not with weapons. It's about money. He wants to raise the toll on ships leaving Westeros, and also, exclusively for the Crown, raise the lending rate.

So the Crown will be under pressure from both inside and outside. Merchants from Westeros will, frankly, complain to the Crown about the unfairness of Braavos' new policy, and the Crown itself will be far from happy about the increased debt. Besides, the Keepers of the Keys, who run the Iron Bank, are not opposed to Tarmo's idea.

Go to war with the city? You could certainly try, but the only way to get to Braavos is by sea. It would take money to cross the sea. And not just for ships, captains and crew, but for weapons, armor and provisions. What can't be said, but to lead an entire army on a, to put it mildly, well-defended city is sheer folly.

The arsenal, which is just beyond the Titan of Braavos, can perfectly hold off the onslaught from the sea, as there is only one way through it. Leading troops around it is ridiculous because of the huge expense, exceeding the sea option several times over.

Braavos, on the other hand, can afford to be aggressive. Covertly, of course. Sending assassins is nothing compared to shipping an entire army. All they need to do is eliminate the commanders and the ruling circle.

It won't come to that, though. One side and the other knows about all this. Perhaps no one gains anything from it, but not really. Braavos will be reminded that he is to be reckoned with and respected, and that's what matters.

After his speech, Tarmo, his bodyguard and Velano's younger brother moved from one group of guests to the next, greeting each one personally and exchanging a few words with them. After a while, it was our turn as well. He first studied my appearance quickly, and only then did he begin to speak.

- "Greetings, Mistress Lina, it's nice to know that you are in good health," he started politely but confidently with Lina, who in response made a slight bow, and then turned to me, "We do not know each other, Master Solomon, but I have heard some good words about you from our mutual acquaintance and some from rumors. Tarmo Fregar, an experienced cloth and silk merchant. Behind me are Zehir Sand, my bodyguard, and Oris Antarion, my assistant. Will you satisfy my curiosity by telling me what position you hold? Judging by the High Priestess' clothing and demeanor, far from one that can be ignored."

Sand? Isn't that the surname given to bastards in Dorne? Quite expected, since he came from Sunspear.

Oris Antarion... Well, now I know Brother Velano's name. He looks really uninterested in everything going on around him. And that's pretty weird, since he's supporting Tarmo in his cause. Exactly as strange as the complete lack of magic in his body and mind. Apparently Velano was a bit mistaken, and his little brother has another reason to follow Tarmo.

- "I can be called the closest person to the Lord of Light," I replied with a polite smile, "That's why Lina respects and listens to me so much."

At my words, Tarmo raised an eyebrow.

- "Like Azor Ahai?"

- "You could say it like that."

- "I see, thank you for your answer," he nodded, not continuing the questioning, "How was the banquet?"

- "Impressive. Quite luxurious, but refined. And may I ask you a question of my own?"

- "Please."

- "Isn't the current Sea Lord named Antarion? Is that a relative of his? Another son, perhaps?" I asked, to which Tarmo didn't react much. Nor did Oris, for that matter.

- "You are right. Oris is his youngest son. And I take it you have already met Master Velano?"

- "Yes."

- "I see," he nodded, "If you have no further questions, I'll take my leave. I have to greet the others. Enjoy the banquet, the food was prepared by the best chef in all of Braavos. There's a performance at the end that will make it worth staying until the end. Don't miss it."

- "I will. Thank you."

At those words, he bowed his head slightly and headed off to the next group.

So far, everything fit Velano and Lina's words. But to add to his description is the fact that he is quite a businesslike person. No unnecessary words, just what etiquette and the situation demanded. Not that you'd expect anything else, given his goals.

- "What do you think of him, "my king"?" Lina asked in a teasing tone.

- "A rather ordinary, busy man who prefers not to waste his time. Possesses tolerable charisma and doesn't like to share too much information. Everything fits the description, to make a long story short."

- "And Oris?"

- "Velano was wrong," I answered briefly, then headed to one of the tables to grab something to munch on, "Since Tarmo said something about a worthwhile performance, I think we can have a nice time for now. And maybe try to strike up a conversation with Oris himself in the process. Since there's no magic involved, it could be something mundane. The conversation will make that clear, I suppose."

- "In that case, there's no point in refusing," Lina nodded and took two glasses of wine from the servant, one of which she handed to me. "I propose we drink to the Lord of Light. And to the High Priestess Kinvara, to whom you are so exorbitantly dear, "my king"."

- "Just don't tell Kinvara yourself. I don't think he'll be happy to hear about it."

- "I'm sure he would." Lina giggled.

I took a small sip and looked at the contents of the glass.

Pretty good.

-0-

A while later.

The time spent was comfortable, relaxed and pleasant. Some of the guests did decide to approach me and get to know me, sometimes asking general questions. Conversations with them were easy and relaxed, which was quite pleasant. There was even one Master and a couple of Keepers of the Keys among them.

The evening flowed smoothly into night, with the moon shining brightly in the sky and the cool sea breeze entering the hall through the open windows. The tables were regularly replenished with new dishes and glasses with various drinks. I think there was even something like cognac for those who liked something stronger.

I had a few words with Velano, telling him of my findings. He was genuinely surprised to hear them, but accepted nonetheless and offered his theories under the guise of small talk.

Tarmo, along with his group, left the hall from time to time to settle some business. He was not present in the hall now, saying that he had to finish the last preparations.

At the moment I was seated in one of the chairs along the walls, waiting for the very performance that Tarmo had promised. My ear caught a few guesses, but they were all about the same - a musical or dance performance by a small troupe, as much as the space in the hall allowed.

Lina managed to chat with a few of the guests, mostly either annoying or teasing them. But it was abundantly clear that they were all used to her by now. Or at least partially. I even managed to get a few sympathetic looks from them, which Lina found amusing, of course.

At one point, the doors opened, revealing Tarmo. He looked around at everyone present and cleared his throat loudly, getting their attention.

- "Gentlemen, I would like to thank you again for your support, as well as your patience. I suppose you were wondering what proposal I was talking about, but let your eyes see for themselves, for it is better to see once than to hear a hundred times, right?" He said loudly, and stepped aside.

And when Tarmo did so, the guests blinked in surprise to see what was behind him. Or rather, who.

There, standing in the aisle, was a young girl dressed in a yellow and white dress. Her long blonde hair waterfalled down her back and developed softly in the breeze. Gifted body, which was visible even under the dress, attracted the attention of men and excited their fantasies. From the sleeves of the dress showed exquisite hands, which was suitable for some devotee of art.

But what I found fascinating was the girl's face. The lower part of her face was hidden behind a thin white silk veil, revealing only her eyes. Bright emerald eyes, like a black hole, drew the attention of all who looked into them. It was as if they had a hypnotic power, which the girl's clothing only served to enhance. It was her eyes that stood out clearly in the range of colors and shades she wore, and they were the first to be remembered.

- "Pearl Artist..." I heard one of the men mutter.

- "How beautiful are her eyes..." some woman added.

- "Master Tarmo has outdone himself."

- "Magnificent."

So this is the Pearl Artist? The owner of the tavern where I spoke to Velano? Impressive. And I'm not talking about her looks, I'm talking about what I felt inside her.

Magic.

And it wasn't just her presence and amount of mana that was impressive, which could be considered outstanding for this era, but the level of control she had over them.

I'm sure that in this world, no one but me or Jon would be able to detect the presence of magic in this girl. The mana that flowed through her body was as calm as water and as natural as air, as if the Artist were one with her.

Now it was clear why the paintings in the tavern smelled so clearly of magic. Their creator is truly skilled in both creating and being a mage. Truly impressive.

- "My vision is that we will be able to see firsthand the work of one of the finest artists in the entire world. And today, the Mistress Artist will paint a portrait of one of her guests, whom she will choose herself, and then present the finished work to him."

Hearing Tarmo's words, a commotion arose in the hall. Almost everyone in the room wanted to be the one chosen by the newcomer. This was clearly visible on their faces as the artist walked to a vacant part of the hall. She was followed by her three maids who carried her supplies: a high chair, an easel, brushes, a board, paints and a canvas.

While her maids were arranging the place of work, the Artist herself looked around at everyone present, not lingering on any of them for more than a moment. Her eyes were indifferent, and even through the veil the stoic expression of the girl was clearly visible.

And all would be nothing, but there was one exception. For one tiny micro-moment her gaze lingered on me. And the most fascinating thing for me was that I recognized that gaze. It was the one I had sensed from the top floor of the bakery I had visited on my way to the Red Temple. It was only now that my sense of smell caught the faint, but still present, slight odor of bread and oven.

When everything was set up, which happened rather quickly, thanks to the practiced and precise actions of the maids, she stood in front of her workplace and looked into the hall. At that moment there was an absolute silence in which one could hear the pounding of her own heart.

The artist gazed at the guests one by one, paying no attention to her surroundings. The maids stood silently behind a chair, and Tarmo stood in one corner of the hall, waiting for the creator to begin her work.

Finally, her gaze stopped and her hand rose and pointed at one particular guest... Me.

- "You. Please stand in front of the canvas. You will pose for today's painting." came the indifferent and melodious voice of the Artist.

Of course, disgruntled looks were immediately directed in my direction. Some even managed to whisper a few curses at me. Lina found it hilarious and giggled loud enough to be heard by the whole room. And, of course, it didn't really bother her. I sighed tiredly and complied with the girl's request.

All the way to the place the eyes of the guests did not open from my figure. In the back of my head I could clearly feel the resentment and envy of those present.

- "Shall I assume some sort of pose, Mistress. Artist?" Reaching the seat, I asked.

- "There is no need. Just stand there and look at me. That's more than enough." She waved me away and sat down on the high chair that her maids had brought with them.

I sighed tiredly once more and did as I was asked.

An interesting and informative evening, but tiring and strange at the same time. Mostly thanks to the girl who arrived at the very end of the event.

I suppose you could call coming here productive, couldn't you?

-0-

A/N: How's the chapter? Give us your opinion. You may well be able to influence future chapters.
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[mirzael]

Sansa Stark. The Kingsroad.

It's been a little over a week since we left Winterfell. There hasn't been much change in that time. I spent most of the journey with my father and Arya, playing with Fou and occasionally exchanging words with Prince Joffrey when he caught my eye.

Arya snuggled with Lady and Nymeria, refusing to let them go, while I strolled around the outskirts of the camp that had just gone to sleep, save for the sentries on watch. There was no point in worrying about safety, as I was sure Lord Solomon's gift could protect me. And Fou, who was getting his share of affection while in my arms, only further convinced me of that. I don't know why, but it seemed to me that there was some great mystery lurking behind that sweet, furry animal, given the occasional glances he received from Lady Kinvara.

Father was mostly busy with business, talking to the king or reading documents. Arya, Princess Myrcella, and Prince Tomen acted as one group, occasionally playing some poor fellow or chatting about something just between the two of them. Prince Joffrey only walked around and did nothing else, all the while keeping a haughty and annoying smirk on his face, which I've somehow learned to ignore, accompanied by his bodyguard Ser Clegane.

Lord Tyrion and Lord Jaime didn't seem particularly eager to do anything. However, while the latter could be described as a typical "Lannister" and coming from a lord's family, the former, in a way, appealed to me.

It's no secret that Tywin Lannister is not particularly fond of his youngest son and will only make him his heir if there is no one else left. Lord Tyrion understands this perfectly well and even manages to make jokes about it, which I've heard during the tributes. He also realizes his inability to hold a sword, and so has focused all his energies on knowledge.

Also, he knows his worth, no matter how small. No one would want to directly throw a challenge at Tywin Lannister, which means they won't touch him. At least as long as the family has power. All of this is flavored by his way of speaking, brash and ironic, which makes it nice to just talk to him about anything. At least for me, as I would definitely prefer his company over that of a queen or crown prince.

At one point, Fou raised his head abruptly and pointed it in a certain direction. Following his gaze, I saw Lord Tyrion drinking alone, sitting on a log and holding a book in his hand.

If the opportunity presented itself, why not take it? I wanted to get at least some up-to-date information about the Red Castle.

I made my way to the log and sat down a few feet away from Lord Tyrion. When he noticed me, he raised an eyebrow and took a sip from the bottle. There was silence between us for a few moments, until a tired sigh came out of his mouth.

- "Even if this is the king's camp and only a madman would dare attack it, it is not safe for a girl like you to wander all alone, you know, Lady Sansa."

- "But I am not alone, Lord Tyrion," I said with a smile and lifted Fou, showing him to Lord Tyrion, "He will protect me."

- "Fou!" Fou chirped, raising his paw up, which made Lord Tyrion chuckle, and I chuckled.

- "Well, if you think so, there's no problem," he took another sip and put the book aside, "What can this humble imp do for you, my lady? You came here for a reason, didn't you?"

- "Are you not getting drunk, Lord Tyrion? I doubt this is your first bottle."

- "It's my sixth. What else is a smart, rich lord's son to do but not drink? But you haven't answered the question," he said, and when I was about to answer, he continued, "If you're wondering what awaits you at the Red Keep, don't even try. Those are questions for my sister. She knows how things work."

- "What makes you think that's what I'm here for?" I asked with a smile on my face.

- "You're not as subtle as you think," Lord Tyrion shrugged, "Your actions at court, your keeping company with my not-so-nice nephew, and your gaze speak volumes. Cersei is fond of her child, and that's why she can be blind. Your actions, while not bad, are not exactly discreet. Also, I don't want to step on anyone's toes. Especially not my sister's, just so you know."

He's perceptive. It's pretty hard to mine information when your opponent is someone like him.

Plus, the look on his face makes it look like he doesn't care. I don't think if it were anyone else in my shoes, it would change. It's pretty weird, even considering his situation. It's like he doesn't care about his family. Then again, maybe his family does too. It's worth adding the fact that he also doesn't want to get involved in anyone else's business. They just don't make sense to him.

- "I'll keep that in mind, Lord Tyrion," I nodded, "Aren't you concerned about my actions? I could be planning something against your family."

- "You? I don't think so," he grinned, "You're not interested in power or money, and there's nothing to avenge the Starks for. Rather, you care about your family's safety in the capital. That is the obvious conclusion from your actions. If it weren't, you'd be coming to my sister, not me, you devil. Besides, the Lannisters have enough enemies already. You won't be the first, and I don't think you'll be the last."

- "Is there someone in particular you're referring to, My Lord?"

- "Who knows?" Lord Tyrion dismissed it and took another sip or two.

There was silence between us again, broken only by the breeze, the howling of wolves in the distance, and Fou's purring. My gaze turned to the endless starry sky as my mind fantasized about meeting Lord Solomon.

I wondered if he would already be there when we arrived at King's Landing, or would we have to wait? There was so much I wanted to tell him and hear what he had to say. I wanted to tell him how Jon left and where he was going, how my mother had changed, how Robb and the others had become. But most of all, I wanted to show what I had become.

Thinking about the past me makes me uncomfortable. If I were here, what would I do? Most likely, I wouldn't have even approached the little lord, but would have gone to bed, dreaming of a prince who was nothing but a spoiled and stupid child.

I smiled cheerfully, remembering what Arya had called him, refusing to call him anything else. "The rooster prince, huh? Quite a fitting nickname when you think about it. Really, I'd change it to "Prince Chicken" for obvious reasons.

- "Lady Sansa," Lord Tyrion called to me suddenly, looking at the nearly empty bottle, "How would you like to ponder a very interesting question I read in a book?"

- "What question?" I asked, as I didn't feel like sleeping yet. Fou was already sniffling against my chest, his head buried in it.

- "What's more important, intentions or deeds?"

I tilted my head to the side at the question and thought.

- "I would say intentions."

- "Oh? And why is that?" Lord Tyrion looked at me with interest.

- "You've heard of the Wizard who lived in Winterfell, haven't you? At first I didn't understand Ma... Lady Stark's outrage at his peculiar life lessons. But now, looking at Arya, it finally dawned on me. He took my childhood from me and shattered my girlhood dreams. He made me and my brothers grow up early. "

I lowered my gaze to Fou and ran my hand softly over his fluffy fur.

- "But I don't blame him, and I'm even grateful to him. After all, his intentions were purely good. Somehow he knew what I and the Stark family were going through, and so he decided to prepare us," I smiled and looked at Lord Tyrion. "How would you look at a typical little girl in a girl's body, dreaming of a prince, pretty dresses, and a happy, carefree life?"

- "As an idiot. The world is not as kind and beautiful as it seems." Lord Tyrion grinned.

- "You are right. And that's what Lord Solomon and Lady Kinvara have been saying," I grinned, "How did my attempt to elicit information turn into a discussion of my childhood?"

- "I have no idea, but I can tell you that I had nothing to do with it," he laughed and finished the bottle, and I chuckled softly, "I don't know about you, but I'm going back to my place. I'm out of wine, and without it I have a habit of brooding over my "demon" status. Good night, Lady Sansa."

- "You too, Lord Tyrion." I said the last of my words as I stared at his staggering figure, and a few seconds later, a lazy, short yawn escaped my mouth.

Well, I guess I should get some sleep, too. It's a long way to King's Landing, and I might be able to find out something. If not from Lord Tyrion, then from someone else. At least I hope so.

-0-

Shiro Kotomine. The Plains.

Khalasar reached the ruined city of Goian Dro and organized a pause to resupply, hunt, and refresh. The city itself had formerly belonged to the Roinar, a people who took their name from the Roina River that runs alongside the city and originates in the Velvet Hills.

The local scenery was no longer as desolate as it had been near Pentos. Blooming greenery is common in these areas, as the river runs alongside and the mountains are close by. A great place to stock up on provisions. For the most part, though, fish and meat were dried and left in the sun to maximize shelf life and to be able to eat on the go.

Near the camp, in the blazing sun, I watched one of the Khal's retainers, Kohollo, holding an arakh, a Dothraki sword with similarities to the Egyptian hopeshot. It had a crescent-shaped blade, giving the blade a high penetrating power if struck with the tip.

Seeing one of my skirmishes with the not-so-restrained Dothraki who wanted Seven's attention, Kohollo wanted to test my skills. The Servant's power hadn't been used in quite some time, so without much thought, I agreed to his offer as I might have gotten a little rusty.

Since we had moved a bit away from the set up camp, there was no one around. The princess was spending time with Fina, listening to her lectures on night matters, while Semi was mostly relaxing, occasionally joining them, and Khal was busy training.

Even despite the hardships Deni goes through, her childlike nature is still with her. She likes to visit Semi and me in our tent and complain, sometimes during lessons, the number of which had to be reduced.

From time to time she was accompanied by Jorah Mormont, who only watched silently and marveled at the knowledge that Semi and I were giving. I remember him asking us where we were able to get it, for some disciplines even he had never heard of. Of course, Ser Jorah got a vague answer, but it was enough to make him stop asking questions.

Anyway, time to get back to the fight.

Cohollo was a stocky, bald and crooked-nosed man in his thirties who had lost his teeth in one of the skirmishes. Despite his ambiguous appearance, he had a calm and poised nature that the princess liked better than any of the other blood riders-his, Haggo's, and Qotho's, the Khal's retainers.

After assessing the balance of the blade, its weight and shape, I looked at the patiently waiting Kohollo and nodded to him. Nodding back at me, he got into a fighting stance and prepared to attack.

A couple seconds later, he ran at me, swinging his blade wide and aiming for my torso. I took a step to the side and drew my sword so that the momentum of the blow would pass me by.

There was a clang of steel, and his blade slid through mine and into the void, but Kohollo didn't hesitate and quickly turned around to make another strike, which I blocked with my legs firmly spread. With some strength in my arm, I pushed him away from me, making him lose his balance for a moment, then sharply shortened the distance with him and hit him on the stomach with my fist, causing him to fall to the ground and grunt in pain.

- "You're strong and fast as a demon, Shiro. I can't tell from your body." Kohollo said impressed.

- "Thank you for the compliment," I smiled and extended my hand to him, which he calmly accepted. "It's very useful in battle, because a warrior tends to judge his opponent by his appearance, isn't it?"

- "Your words are true," he nodded, and then he hung his sword on his belt, while I handed him mine, "Thank you for the fight."

- "Of course, feel free to contact me anytime." I said, and he made a short gesture with his head and headed toward the camp.

After standing a bit and waiting until there was no one around but me, I turned my head in the direction where there were only mountains and plains.

- "Is something wrong, Semi?" I asked into the void. A couple of moments later, where my gaze was directed, Semi materialized with a frown on her face.

- "Keep an eye on Mormont. He's suspicious."

- "Hmm?" I raised an eyebrow, "Sure, whatever you say. But why me?"

- "I'm lazy," Semi answered as a matter of course, "This journey is wearing me out, and I want my gardens, Shiro. Let the ring bearer give me mana or I'll go mad."

- "I'll ask him for it, just be patient, Semi," I smiled and held out my hand, in which she put hers without a moment's hesitation, "I'll fix you something. You like my cooking, don't you?"

She didn't answer, only nodded briefly with an indifferent expression, but I noticed a tiny blush on her cheeks, which made me smile cheerfully.

The queen's wish is law, eh?

-0-

A/N: How's the chapter? Give us your opinion. You may well be able to influence future chapters.
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[mirzael]

Jon Snow. Near the Wall.

Our advance to the North was going very smoothly. We were walking fast, as the number of men in the group and the lack of supplies allowed it to be. From time to time we came across patrols of the Night's Watch and houses subject to the Starks, which we safely bypassed, remaining undetected.

We reached the Twilight Tower, one of the castles of the Night's Watch. It stood at the foot of the mountains, with the Wall at its end. The snow-covered Twilight Tower was relatively small, with a tall tower and flags on the roof, and lights in its windows to show that it was still active and on duty. The entrance was on the side with a low staircase leading up to it and guarded by a low gate.

Cid stopped our group in the woods almost adjacent to the Tower and, hiding behind the trees, ordered us to wait.

- "We need to go near the castle," Mara said, not turning her head and somehow noticing my lack of understanding, but obviously addressing me, "There's a hidden path right behind it that bypasses the patrols and goes straight to the Bridge of Skulls, as you call it."

- "I see," I nodded, "But why are we waiting? I don't see anyone."

In response, Cid silently pointed with his head a little east of the Twilight Tower. Nothing changed for a few seconds, the same snow-covered landscape, but then the lights of torches appeared in the distance.

After waiting a moment longer, I saw a group of three brothers of the Night's Watch, apparently making their rounds. They were exchanging a few words with each other, laughing or pausing from time to time, but doing their duty, though without much sensitivity or focus.

- "How did you know that they would come out of there and now?" I whispered to Cid.

- "The order and route of the patrols change every two months," Mara answered for him, 'It's useful to be 'silly savages', you know. You worshipers are, to put it mildly, blind and stupid."

Well, she's partly right. Everyone in the Seven Kingdoms is used to seeing and portraying wildlings the way Mara described. No one but the Night's Watch, I suppose, has thought about how wildlings cross the fabled Wall.

On the other hand, even if the Night's Watch raises the issue, there's nothing they can do about it. Remembering what Lord Stark has said about its current state, this is not surprising.

The current roster is for the most part made up of political criminals, deserters, murderers, rapists, and other such rabble. Only a small fraction of men join the Night's Watch for the noble purpose for which it was formed.

In addition to this problem, there is another, at least there was. It takes money to supply the brothers of the Night's Watch with weapons, armor, and food. Robb, who once substituted for my father and at that time knew of my intentions, told me and the rest of the siblings that the amount of money allocated by the Crown for the needs of the Night's Watch is extremely small. And the Starks, as the ruling house of the North, are taking on the task.

Well, in any case, none of this makes Mara's words any less right.

- "Well, that's just the way it is," I shrugged. "I guess we wait for them to pass and then we move out?"

- "Yes." Cid said, and then he stopped talking.

A couple minutes of silence passed while the patrol disappeared into the Twilight Tower. We came out from behind the trees and followed Cid. Just as he had said, we passed dangerously close to the castle walls, about two hundred paces away.

From this position, I revised my opinion on the size of the castle. It now seemed tall and massive, and the night sky made it look intimidating and mesmerizing.

Quickly and cautiously our group passed the Tower, until at one point Cid stopped abruptly. His eyes studied his surroundings as if searching for something, and Mara and I didn't know what was wrong, but we reached for our weapons just in case. After a few seconds, Cid drew his bow and, turning sharply, aimed into the darkness just behind us. Mara and I did the same and prepared for a possible attack. However...

Ten men dressed in leather, bronze, and steel armor, judging by their colors, and black cloaks emerged from the darkness-covered forest thicket. The same ones worn by the brothers of the Night's Watch.

Standing slightly ahead of the entire group was an old man. He had a long gray beard, his head was nearly hairless, and his face was covered with deep wrinkles. His clear gray-blue eyes almost shone in the light of the night moon. In addition to the usual Night's Watch garb, his collar and sleeves of his black velvet doublet were trimmed with sable, and a silver eagle held the folds of his cloak together.

It was a good thing I had prepared myself before the journey. If my memory serves me correctly, his appearance and the symbol of the eagle corresponded to what the commander of the Twilight Tower looked like. I believe his name was Denis Mallister, a member of House Mallister in the Riverlands. And their crest was a silver eagle on a purple field.

- "Calm down, wildlings," the old man began, looking at our group, Cid and Mara to be exact, "If you hand over the young man, you can leave in peace. I don't want to spill blood if it's not necessary."

- "Oh? 'What a generous offer," Mara said in her usual tone, "But I'll surprise you, old man, he's not a hostage."

- "Not a hostage?" Ser Denys raised an eyebrow, "What do you mean, wildling?"

- "Not "wildling," but "free-" Mara wanted to object, but got a sharp look from Cid and was silent.

- "It's just as she said," Cid said after a few seconds, his eyes shifting from one Night's Watch brother to the other as he held up his bow, "Ask him yourself."

Ten pairs of eyes were instantly directed at me, as if demanding an answer. Cid and Mara didn't move, but their gaze was running around, looking for ways to get around in case of emergency, while Ser Denys looked at me calmly and waited for an answer.

The rest of the brothers behaved differently than their commander. I could sense their tension and anxiety as none of them bared their swords, most likely on Ser Denis' orders. If a skirmish suddenly broke out, two of them would definitely get wounded, which wasn't a very pleasant prospect.

I took a deep breath and returned Durandal back to its scabbard, then stepped forward with my hands raised.

- "Greetings, Ser Denys of House Mallister. I am Jon Snow, bastard of Eddard Stark, the Silent Wolf and ruler of the North. And the girl told the truth, I'm traveling with them willingly, as our paths are currently aligned." Deciding that the truth would be preferable to a lie, I said.

- "Lord Stark's bastard?" Ser Denys said, surprised. "In that case, would it be a problem if I sent a raven to Winterfell to confirm your words, young man?"

Inwardly, I raised an eyebrow.

He ignored my last words? That's rather odd. If I were him, I would have immediately inquired about the 'ways' that coincide with Lord North's bastard and the wildlings. He also didn't ask why our path led us here and not to Castle Black.

But I give him credit, he didn't take my word for it, but he didn't brand me a liar on the spot. Besides, the entire conversation, there was nothing but patience and calmness on Ser Denis' face.

- "Of course. If that convinces you, I don't see a problem," I nodded, and Mara and Cid slowly lowered their bows, though they didn't put them away completely, "It takes about a day for a raven to travel from Twilight Tower to Winterfell. And since that's the case, how are we going to deal with my group? At the very least we'll have to wait a couple days, maybe more if something unforeseen happens."

- "Your group can stay overnight at the Twilight Tower. I will make the arrangements." Ser Denys replied.

- "We wouldn't want to be inconvenienced," I shook my head almost immediately, "We're both well aware of the way wildlings are treated in the Seven Kingdoms. I doubt the brothers of the Night's Watch would see it any differently."

- "Hmm..." he mumbled thoughtfully, and after a few moments of thought, he continued, "There's a cave in the rock near the castle. Earlier it was used as a kind of cache with supplies, but now it is empty. You can camp there, and I'll provide you with food and water."

- "And you're gonna leave us unattended? Is idiocy in the worshippers' blood?" Mara intervened in the conversation, to which she immediately received a silent reprimand from Cid.

- "No, I can't allow that," Ser Denys shook his head, "You'll have a couple of sentries assigned to you. No more, no less. Is that acceptable, young man?"

- "Yes, but I would like to be present when the letter is written and sent. These are uncertain times, and you never know who you can trust and who you can't."

- "Then we have a deal?" He said, and came over to shake my hand.

- "We have a deal," I nodded, and then asked the question I wanted to know. "May I ask how you found us? There was no one in the neighborhood."

Ser Denis grinned and, sticking two fingers in his mouth, whistled loudly. A moment later there was a screech in the sky, the sound of flapping wings, and a large, handsome eagle landed on his shoulder, looking at me with arrogance and confidence.

- "This is Neal," Ser Denis introduced him and scratched his wing affectionately, "He noticed you on the approach to the forest, and only thanks to him we found out about you."

- I" see. Thank you for answering, Ser Denys."

- "Don't mention it. Neal is a very proud eagle and needs to be praised from time to time," he smiled, "Anyway, Quoren!"

A grim man with shrewd gray eyes, long legs and hands, one of which was missing three fingers, came out to answer his call. His long gray hair was braided and his stiff, flat cheeks were smoothly shaven.

- "He will lead your companions to the cave while the letter is being written."

- "Quoren Halfhand?" Mara was surprised, and Cid was silent, but it was clear from his face that he knew the man.

- "Is he known beyond the Wall?" I asked.

- "Uh-huh. You could say he's a highly respected crow. It's not like any of them could fool a couple of chiefs."

- "I see," I nodded and turned to Ser Denys, "In that case, I suggest we go. I don't want to inconvenience you any more than I have to."

- "Of course, please follow me."

A man named Quoren and a couple other Night's Watch brothers, along with Cid and Mara, headed north, while I and the others followed Ser Denys to the Twilight Tower.

Well, it's too bad we didn't manage to get through unnoticed, but it could have been worse, couldn't it?

-0-

Solomon. Braavos.

As I sat in the parlor room of the Red Temple, I thought back to the banquet and looked at the picture painted and presented by the Artist.

Throughout the painting, my gaze mainly focused on the Artist's body and her instrument. As stated earlier, the mana in her awakened magical circuits flowed so easily and smoothly, as if the girl was born to magic.

The mana centered on her hand and then flowed into her fingers, in which the Artist held a special brush. An all-white artistic brush, as if made from the bone of some beast. In addition to that, it had wavy patterns and some symbols on it that I couldn't recognize.

In any case, this brush was a full-fledged Mystic Code. Through it, the mana and colors were transferred to the canvas, and the finished painting clearly radiated magic, just like the paintings in the tavern belonging to the Artist.

It's also worth mentioning that I felt someone's particularly jealous gaze. It was strong enough to override the other emotions the guests were feeling. Unfortunately, I didn't identify who it belonged to, but it was definitely there.

Suddenly, the door to the room opened. It was Lina with her typical cheerful smile that she was holding a sealed letter in her hand.

- "Oh? Am I interrupting you, "my king"?" She asked, sitting down opposite me, "Admiring your beauty or the work of the famous Artist?"

- "More of the latter than the former," I answered and looked at the letter, which was not signed in any way. "I take it is addressed to me?"

- "Most likely," Lina shrugged, "And you won't believe how I received it."

- "Hmm?"

- "I was on my way to the market to try that bread you praise. A vendor who matched your description, in addition to the bread itself, discreetly handed over this letter. Without, of course, saying anything about who it was addressed to. After a little thought, I assumed it was for you. And if it isn't, I don't think it would do me any harm."

I nodded briefly and took the letter. Unfolding it, there was only one word inside - "Pearl Coast". If I'm not mistaken, that was the name of the tavern where Velano and I had our first conversation. What also caught my eye was that the ink was soaked in mana. A very familiar mana, definitely belonging to the same girl.

- "Lina, do you need me tonight?"

- "Oh? Is that a suggestion, "my king"?" Lina giggled, "I don't mind, but how will the High Priestess Kinvara react to it? What a heartbreaker you are."

- "As I understand, I don't need it." I sighed tiredly and put the letter in my pocket.

Well, if she's decided to contact me herself, I suppose the meeting could get a little interesting, eh?

-0-

A/N: How's the chapter? Give us your opinion. You may well be able to influence future chapters.
My P.a.t.r.e.o.n: P.a.t.r.e.o.n.c.o.m/mirzael
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[mirzael]

Solomon. Braavos.

As the sun set over the horizon and the stars and moon began to light up the firmament, I set out for the Pearl Coast. The activity of the city had fallen somewhat as the working part of it rested, and the streets were mostly filled with only those who could afford it. The taverns and inns, however, were filled almost completely, given the lights burning in them and the multitude of voices.

And as I walked slowly through the alleys of the city, a debate was going on in my head. It mostly centered around Shiro's request, and more specifically, Semiramis'.

Right now, the amount of mana the Servants receive is just enough to allow them to use their minimal abilities. Noble Phantasms are powerful, especially for the current era of this world. And while in Shiro's case it is ineffective against ordinary humans and not particularly noticeable, this is not the case for Semiramis at all.

Her Noble Phantasm, the Hanging Gardens of Semiramis, is a Huge Flying Fortress that Semiramis can use as both a base and a weapon of mass destruction. To the inhabitants of this world, such a structure is, to put it mildly, out of reach, unless you count dragons. And the power it carries will make every lord and commoner who learns of it or sees it obey.

Plus, there's enough space in the Gardens to house the population of a small town, and that's if you don't count the tower-like palace that sits in the center of the fortress.

Right now, the world is fairly peaceful. It is developing, albeit slowly, and the priorities of its inhabitants are prioritized around money, influence, and families. They know that with enough quantity and quality of these factors there is nothing to fear, but what if a floating impregnable fortress appears in the sky? Priorities are augmented by a new entrant - magic, of which the Gardens are an obvious manifestation.

Infrastructure and the order of things will change. Who was nothing will be able to become everything, and vice versa. Kingdoms and cities will face unrest and even civil warfare, as someone will definitely feel that he is better than others and therefore worthy of more.

It's also worth mentioning that the Age of Gods is almost over and I didn't feel any fairies or spirits, at least not yet. Soon the Age of Man will come, and the Gardens will stall progress and breathe life into the passing Age. All in all, the emergence of the Gardens will bring great excitement to the fate of this world, which I would like to avoid for now. However, if the situation calls for it, the Gardens will have to see the light of day, which is what I told Shiro.

And then there is the matter of the White Walkers. According to legend, Azor Ahai should deal with them, but now that I'm in this world, things are getting more complicated. Just like Kinvara said, I'm the one who has become the main figure on the field, and it's hard to argue with that.

Solomon's Noble Phantasm, the very first of the three available, is not just powerful, but almost omnipotent. When activated, it gathers magic from the entire planet that humanity has possessed, and it can be channeled into very different things, from obvious destruction that can drill the planet through, to something on a larger scale - the destruction of human history, as it was in Solomon's memories. Magic is a circumvention of the rules of the world, which means that there are still a carload of uses for this Noble Phantasm.

My attitude towards its use or this world... I don't know. I just don't have any big thoughts. Right now I just want to let this world prepare for change, and explore it a bit. I don't see myself in the future, as I just have no idea what I'm going to do or who I'm going to spend my time with.

I used to really think that immortality was a wonderful thing, as I would have time to learn everything the world has to offer, but now my opinion has changed. The Starks, Halon and the others I've befriended are mortals, which means they'll grow old and pass away, and I'll meet their descendants - grandchildren, great-grandchildren and so on.

Semiramis and Shiro will either want to return to the Throne or create their own family, where I have no place. They will have their own lives, and I will have mine. I will only be an inconvenience. And they will also leave, if they are fully resurrected and the situation will be the same as with the first ones.

Of course, I can think of the Red Men, especially Kinvara, who will no doubt be willing to follow me, and they live as long as their bodies are supported by R'Glor's magic, but he will be gone, and so will they.

And in the end, I don't know what to give myself to. I just don't. I don't want to feel the pain of loss, much less get used to it, but at the same time I don't want to lose my humanity. And I will lose it, since I'll either become an emotionless piece of flesh if I close my heart, or devastated if I don't.

I grinned ironically.

A vicious circle, huh?

So the time passed unnoticed, and I almost reached the Pearl Bank. At some point, however, I was abruptly grabbed by the arm and pulled into a deserted alleyway between the houses. In front of me stood a figure with a bag at his side, shrouded in a plain brown cloak, that let go of my arm and moved slightly away from me. And at the same time I could smell the slight odor of baked goods that the figure exuded.

- "I apologize for my impertinent behavior, sir, but these are the orders of the mistress." said the figure and removed his hood. It turned out to be the same saleswoman from whom I had bought bread and who had handed the letter to Lina, and there was a guilty expression on her face. But the same cheerful and polite smile remained.

- "It's alright," I nodded calmly, "I understand you're here to see me off, Mistress...."

- "Yuni, sir. You're right, my job is to escort you. And please, I am not a mistress, you can just call me by my first name." She bowed her head and corrected me.

- "Okay, Yuni."

- "Here, put this on, sir," she opened her bag, which contained a cloak identical to the one she was wearing, "And then we can depart."

- "Oh?" I stared at the cloak with an incomprehensible look.

- "Don't look at me like that, master. Mistress still needs to maintain authority and rules."

- "Rules?"

- "You really haven't been in town that long, huh?" Yuni sighed, "Every client who comes to Madam's office for an appointment is accompanied by someone from her entourage, and their identity must be concealed. Madam's work has a certain charm that makes some people tend to behave extremely... fanatical. If the client's identity were to be known, then with insufficient security, he might suffer some rather... unpleasant consequences."

- "Even so?" I wondered.

- "Even so," she nodded, "I remember one client who spent his entire fortune to get to the mistress. And he did get in and even got the painting, but two days later he was found dead in one of the canals of the city, his house was burned down and the painting of the mistress was stolen. This happened before the Mistress even enacted these rules."

- "That's... staggering," I shook my head, "But then how does the client get the painting if the identity is supposed to remain secret."

- "Mistress has the right people." She stated with a smile.

- "But I took the painting and reached the temple quite calmly."

- "No matter how fanatical some of Mistress' fans are, no one will risk challenging the red men and the faceless ones." She said, to which I nodded briefly and accepted the cloak.

Once I had it on we headed towards the tavern. Of course, our group of two was accompanied by multiple stares from the people around us. And when we entered the tavern and began to go up to the third floor, its customers stopped doing their business and began either whispering with each other or just silently watching.

Incidentally, since that banquet at the Tarmo mansion, one detail or another had spread through the city like wildfire. Apparently, I had underestimated the Artist's fame, as every commoner who interacted with me in the slightest, i.e. merchants, artisans, simple laborers, tried to... suck up to me.

However, just like Yuni had said, no one dared to invade my personal space, pester me and all that sort of thing, as how crazy one would have to be to provoke two powerful faiths. The painting itself was in the red temple, as there was no point in carrying it to the black and white house, and there are simply no other options.

My work that Velano had asked me to do was finished. He said he was grateful and would remember it, but also added that he would like me to get to the bottom of it. If possible, of course. Ideally, since there was no magic involved, there was nothing stopping me from ignoring his request, but if something to do with Oris came up, why not get to the bottom of it? If only for a sense of accomplishment, I'd say.

Going upstairs, I didn't notice any changes in the interior, but here, in addition to the Artist herself, were her three maids that had assisted her in her work during the banquet. She was taking her arranged seat by the window overlooking the city and painting some sort of picture while her three assistants stood silently to the side of her.

- "I have brought him, Mistress." Yuni said respectfully and bowed.

- "Good, I'll call you when I'm done. You can be free, Yuni." Without taking her gaze off the host, the Artistry said, to which Yuni bowed once more and went back downstairs, then continued, ''Have a seat. I'll be done soon."

Taking a seat in one of the available chairs, I focused my gaze on the Artist while taking a closer look at her maids.

Each of them was different from the other: different color of eyes, hair, skin, build. But the gaze...

They watched my every move with the corner of their eyes, like a trained killer or predator that doesn't reveal itself until the hunt begins. Their gaze was cool and calculating, which was unusual and... interesting. I guess they, in addition to being the Artist's assistants, are also her guards. A good decision considering what I heard from Yuni.

After about an hour, she finished her work. The artist slowly got up from her chair and moved to the couch opposite the chair I was occupying. One of her assistants began to clean up, another carefully took the canvas and placed it facing the window, and the last one stood silently behind her mistress's shoulder.

- "You are very interesting, Master Solomon." With a stoic and mask-like expression, the Artist began, interrupting the silence.

- "Interesting? Interested in what exactly, Mistress Artist?"

- "Don't play dumb and ignorant. I had heard about you before, about what a dangerous and powerful sorcerer you are, but at that evening I saw for myself. You watched me like a vulture or a stalker, of which this city is full," she said in a monotone. "Others might think you were impressed by my skill or beauty, but not me. And we both know the real reason, don't we?"

Quite a rough start, I'd say. I wouldn't expect someone like her to act that way. However, it doesn't matter, at least not to me. But her words are true. My interest is centered on her magical skills. Not that this is anything out of the ordinary, but apparently my interlocutor thinks otherwise, judging by her tone.

- "What does this have to do with your invitation here?" I asked with a polite smile.

- "I found out that you are quite close to one "woman"." She said icily, but the last word sounded as if she was utterly disgusted to even think about her, "Whoever it was. She may or may not have already done so, but my "mother" has definitely lured you in somehow. Which means she will definitely send you to get rid of me. To wash the 'shame' off her face and clear your 'good' name."

I raised an eyebrow.

Artist was practically spitting out some words while maintaining a cold stare, and I just didn't understand what she meant. It was like the context of the conversation had gotten away from me from the very beginning and didn't want to go back.

- "I still don't understand what the point of our conversation is, Mistress Artist."

She made a very tiny gesture with her head in response to my words, as the next second three razor-sharp daggers settled at my throat, heart, and groin. Her maids surrounded me, forming a semicircle, leaving only their mistress in view. They stood absolutely still, as if they were machines, programmed only to follow orders.

- "There's no point in explaining to you what you already know," seeing my sincere bewilderment, tiny signs of irritation appeared on her face, "She prepared you, didn't she? What did she promise you? Power? Gold? My magic? What?"

- "I believe there has been a misunderstanding between us. And as much as I hate to bring others into this, you're not afraid of the Red Faith and the Black and White House? Your actions seem illogical and ill-conceived to me." I said calmly, and the dagger that was pointed at my throat almost made contact with my skin.

- "There is no misunderstanding, just a fact. What about them? There will be no problem if you consider my actions as a mere demonstration," the Artist said with absolute certainty and shook her head once more. In response, her maids obediently stood behind her, putting away and hiding their daggers, "I invited you here to make a deal. I don't know what 'mother' has offered or will offer for my head, but I'm offering you twice as much. Do I interest you?"

Outwardly I didn't react in any way, but inside there was confusion.

How did Velano's routine request to investigate his brother lead to this?

-0-

A/N: How's the chapter? Give us your opinion. You may well be able to influence future chapters.
My P.a.t.r.e.o.n: P.a.t.r.e.o.n.c.o.m/mirzael
You'll be able to read more chapters there.

 

[mirzael]

Solomon. Braavos.

The Artist waited patiently for my answer while I considered what to do about the situation. Her gaze was cold and calculating, the maids looked like puppets, and the sounds from below were muffled, making the atmosphere in the room heavier with every passing second.

To be honest, I really don't know what to do. I have no idea what, how or why, and so the only available solution would be sincerity. Yes, I can always settle the matter by force, and they, like the rest of the inhabitants of this world, have nothing to counter it, but there's no point or need for that.

If every misunderstanding in the world is solved by force, it will burn in the blink of an eye. It is far easier and more reliable to act for certain for each side, and not everyone is willing to go to a trivial conversation to resolve it. It's not pride that prevents them, not at all, but the threat to their own safety.

In this situation, if I were indeed the murderer, Artist's actions would be very reasonable. Judging by her tone and wording, her mother has already made several attempts, and the woman in front of me simply has no choice but to do just that.

However, that does not change the fact that I am the injured party. Ultimately, I'm left to just go with the flow and see what happens. At the very least, there's always the option of a show of force, as shown by the Artist through her maids.

- "You know, Mistress Artist, even if you don't want to believe my words, there really is a misunderstanding between us. I don't know who exactly is your mother and what the circumstances between you two are. Assuming? Yes, that's true, but are you sure? Certainly not," I said in a calm and confident tone, looking her straight in the eye, "And that's why I propose to clarify the situation as much as possible. You said yourself that you consider me a dangerous and powerful sorcerer, and that if I were really a murderer, I would have acted beforehand. That seems reasonable, doesn't it?"

The answer to my logically correct one was only silence and a look full of absolute certainty that I was trying to play innocent. The artist didn't believe me one bit and was still waiting for the obvious answer.

- "So we can't come to an understanding, Mistress Artist?"

- "Not until you confess and name your price, Master Solomon."

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

This is not the way to move forward. The sincerity of my words simply won't reach her mind, which means... I'll have to prove it by force.

- "Do you think, Mistress Artist, is offering me power or gold enough to hire me as a simple assassin? The Red Temple and the Black and White House will gladly provide both if you just ask. Even if my stay in this city is far from long, everyone knows how much authority I hold."

- "Then—"

- "And magic?" I tilted my head and tapped the armrest twice with my index finger.

The next moment, a wave of power spread from my body like a giant tsunami. An unrestrained wind came up, scattering food and objects and furnishings. The fabric that was attached to the ceiling and windows fluttered as if trying to break free and run as far away as possible. The clear sky outside was replaced in the blink of an eye by black clouds that formed rings and gathered over the tavern where I was.

The three maids behind Artist's back were practically blown out of their seats and gently pressed against the walls of the building. Their clothes clung tightly to their bodies, their knives embedded in stone to the hilt with no way of getting them back.

Their mistress, on the other hand, opened her eyes and mouth wide, revealing greatly dilated pupils and white teeth. Her entire body shuddered from the pressure and shaking as the couch she was sitting on slid across the floor and hit the display case, collapsing the painting supplies. Brushes flew in different directions, paint splattered across furniture, walls, and floor, and canvases and parchments opened up, wrapping themselves around the first objects in their path.

And in this storm of wind and magic, I, the only one unaffected by what was happening, could clearly hear the rhythm of the Artist's heart, like the sound of a hammer hitting an anvil. Fast, strong, and loud. I could see the beaches of stunned shock in her eyes, yet they retained a determination and steely will that burned brightly enough to resemble the afternoon sun.

There was no fear in them, no despair or uncertainty. The artist looked me straight in the eye, as if she didn't notice the mess around us. Her delicate fingers clenched into fists, her eyes sharpened, and her teeth clenched. The trembling of her body slowly faded, bowing to the steely will of the Artist to show no fear of her opponent.

I examined the woman in front of me and nodded to myself in surprise.

She is strong. Not physically, but mentally. So much so that even something like this didn't cause a bit of fear in her eyes. It was as if the artist was an Atlantean who could not be broken by the weight of the firmament. And that's impressive. Very impressive.

- "Do you really think the promise of magic can seduce me?"

Her gaze lingered on me for a few seconds, then began to run around as if looking for something. It stopped on her special brush that was currently two steps away from her. Her body then abruptly filled with mana, creating an effect similar to 'Strengthening', and rushed towards the brush.

Picking it up on the run, the Artist tore towards me, taking the brush in a reverse grip as if it were a dagger, and aimed for my throat. She used her free hand to cover her face, apparently to protect herself in case of an attack.

The Artist moved, as far as I was concerned, slowly but deftly, maneuvering and keeping her eyes on me. Her gaze was filled with killing intent, and her icy expression became completely impenetrable. And when she almost reached me, still unmoving, I propped my head up with my fist and snapped the fingers of my free hand.

In the next second, green vines burst out of the floor of the third floor and braided the girl's body, then tied her to the ground, forcing her to drop the brush. Seeing the condition of their mistress, as well as the inability to retrieve the daggers from the wall, the maids with worried expressions on their faces tried to resist the wind and magic to regain their fighting ability. However, they failed, and in the end, all four girls were completely immobilized.

- "Your actions are... interesting," I said calmly, bringing the magic back into my body and looking at the disgruntled and angry face of the Artist, whose icy mask shattered under the onslaught of circumstances. The servant girls were also bound by vines, securing them to the wall. The fabrics that had been developed by the wind returned to a calm state, objects stopped moving, and a circle was formed with me as the center, where, except for the empty floor, it was as if there had never been anything, "Why attack me if the result was obvious?"

I didn't get an answer. Her intense gaze drilled through me, and it seemed to me that if it could kill me, I would be dead. The girl's whole look was like an enraged she-wolf, growling and baring her fangs menacingly. And she was definitely not happy with what was happening.

Now I could see her true face, filled with genuine emotions and feelings. Gone was the emotionless doll, giving way to a determined, desperate and strong girl ready for seemingly insane things. She doesn't want to lose, doesn't want to show her weakness, but to achieve her goal, whatever it takes. Very impressive.

And deep inside me, I felt something. Something strange and appealing, like a breath of clean water in a vast desert... I want to know what she's been through... I want to hear what she has to say at the end of this stretch of her journey... I want to see what she'll grow up to be....

Standing up from the chair, I leaned over to the bound Artist and reached out to touch her face. The response to this action was a bite that managed to damage her skin and make it bleed. The Artist's jaws clenched tightly on my hand, trying to bite it off, and all the while her gaze never left mine, as if to declare that she would not lose or bow to me.

- "You're very strong," I began and put my hand on her cheek, ignoring the pain in the still jawed limb, "I'm genuinely impressed with you and find you to be an amazing girl. This is the first time I've met someone like you, and I don't think I'll ever meet anyone like you again. You-"

- "Enough!" The Artist shouted, letting go of my hand and spitting blood in my face, "I don't need your empty flattery, you lying bastard! Just finish the job, and kill me! My pride won't bend to your pathetic words!"

- "Why would I kill you if there was no point?" Tilting my head and wiping away the blood with my hand, I asked, "Why would I kill an interesting girl like you, Lavena Satrion."

- "What... How..." she froze, and then her displeasure turned to pure rage, "Don't you dare speak my name with your lying mouth!"

- "And since you've already given up your life, why don't I take it for myself?"

- "Huh?"

I touched her forehead with my finger, and a second later, her entire body was covered with a tattoo that flashed with golden light and then slowly disappeared, leaving the girl's pure skin as if it had always been like this.

- "What have you done to me!"

- "You belong to me now, Mistress Lavena," I said, at which her face twisted in disgust, "Of course, it's not forever. One day I will give you your freedom back, but only when you become "free" and ask for it."

- "Free"?! What are you talking about?! My "mother" told you to do that, didn't she?!"

- "Right now, I see in front of me a child with parental problems. You live your life solely to hurt your mother, because if you didn't, you'd send the killers yourself. You are strong, but at the same time you are empty and constrained," I said calmly and raised my free hand up, putting up three fingers, "We can't continue this conversation now, so we'll do it when you wake up. When your thoughts are clear and not clouded by your mother's revenge."

- "You...!"

A snap of fingers rang through the room, causing the Artist and her maids to faint. There was dead silence in the room, interrupted by conversations from the first floor of the building. The closed field I'd placed before releasing the magic from my body didn't let anything out, so no one knew anything, except for the change in the weather, of course.

I estimated that they would be unconscious for about an hour, and so, after another snap of my fingers, it was as if the room was returning to its original state in flashback. Objects returned to their places, furniture took the same places it should occupy, paint from the floor collected back into its cans, leaving behind the cleanliness. The maids' daggers returned to their sheaths on their hips, and the holes in the walls disappeared.

I, on the other hand, straightened up and began to walk around the room, looking at the available paintings to kill time.

Hopefully, when they wake up, we'll be able to have a proper conversation.

-0-

Sansa Stark. The Kingsroad.

The days flew by one by one, and the caravan continued to move along the Kingsroad. Every now and then we stopped at small taverns or just at the request of the royal family, but then we continued on to the Moat of Cailin.

There were no particular changes, and all the people I knew were doing about the same as usual. Father is still busy with the king, Arya, Prince Tommen and Princess Myrcella are spending time together, Fou is stealing food, and Prince Joffrey continues his aimless walks just to show his "importance".

Now I was sitting in the tent assigned to the Starks, contemplating what to do while they set up camp outside for the night.

Since that conversation with Lord Tyrion, information gathering had been very reluctant. I'd been able to gather only bits and pieces of what I needed, playing the nosy young lady, but I hadn't been able to find out much. Just a couple of names, that's all.

The most notable thing I heard was the presence of the Queen of Spikes, Olenna Tyrell, in King's Landing. Her fame precedes her, and I may have to avoid contact with her until better times. If Lord Tyrion could see my game, all the more so can she. In addition to her of the Tyrrells, her granddaughter, Margaery Tyrell, is also there. As described to me, a beautiful, caring and intelligent lady that helps the people of the capital of the Seven Kingdoms. Given her grandmother, I will have to avoid her as well, or keep contact to a minimum if I want to be prepared for anything.

I sighed tiredly and stroked the Lady lying at my feet.

Either way, whatever you do, you'll have to wait. I just don't have the opportunity to prepare in any way. Unless something special happens, of course....

The next moment, the entrance to the tent opened, revealing one of Winterfell's men, with Golden cloak standing behind him.

- "Lady Sansa," the first greeted me and bowed, "a message has come for you."

- "A message?" I asked, to which he nodded and looked at Golden cloak, who stepped forward and repeated the first man's actions.

- "The Queen wishes to see you, Lady Sansa. I am here to escort you to her."

Hearing his words, my eyes widened in surprise, and then I grinned to myself.

What was it Lord Solomon used to say? "Murphy's Law", huh?

-0-

A/N: How's the chapter? Give us your opinion. You may well be able to influence future chapters.
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[ATP]

Thanks for chapter.Salomon just get pupil - good for him.And i wish Shiro and Semi happy family !

 

[mirzael]

Sansa Stark. The Kingsroad.

Following Golden cloak, I reached the royal tent, with two more men standing guard at the entrance. They nodded briefly to my escort and let me pass, and then I was inside.

The tent was lavishly furnished, yet kept spacious and comfortable so that the royal couple would not be inconvenienced. A small amount of furniture made up of a bed, a few chairs, a table, and chests of belongings created a sort of room, apparently for the queen, as this tent was intended solely for her.

The only person here was herself, who was waiting for me, sitting on one of the chairs and holding a glass in her hand. She looked rather tired and a little irritated, as I understand, because of the length of the journey. Apparently she is not a fan of such outings, and prefers a familiar castle.

- "Your Majesty," I bowed, adding a little excitement to my tone as I caught her eye, "You called for me?"

- "Yes, Sansa, come in, make yourself comfortable," she nodded and, smiling kindly, pointed to the chair across from me, "Are you hungry? I can have the cooks prepare something for you if you want."

Hearing her, I frowned inwardly.

Too much familiarity and courtesy. It wasn't exactly what I expected from someone who treated my entire family with absolute indifference. However, I have a clear reason to believe what her current behavior is about.

- "Thank you, Your Majesty, I've had enough," I shook my head gently, taking the seat indicated by the queen, "Um... Don't take it as impertinence, but... may I ask...."

- "Well, don't be nervous, dear, I don't bite," she laughed, covering the lower part of her face with her hand, "I called you just to talk. It's hard to find a nice person to talk to these days, and you, beautiful young lady, fit all the criteria."

- "What about the king? Can't he keep you company?" I asked, deliberately mentioning the one she was looking at with displeasure and some contempt. At this, the queen frowned, but then quickly returned a smile to her face as if the moment had never happened.

- "He's busy, my dear, and I can't distract him with such trivialities," she waved him away, "I suggest we just chat lady to lady, okay?"

- "Of course, Your Majesty," I mumbled uncertainly and dropped my gaze to my knees, "Um... What would you like to chat about?"

- "Something simple, my dear. How are you finding life in Winterfell? The North is cold, and I prefer much warmer places. I find it hard to imagine life in these lands being as comfortable as it is in the South."

Is he probing? Or just trying to make conversation? It's worth speaking partly openly, but naively.

- "Well..." I hesitated and hid my eyes, "That may be true, but I was born here, and I'm used to the cold. Snow and blizzards don't scare me, and my family is always there for me. So I can't say I understand you. And... it's my first time traveling outside the North, I don't know what to expect and what to prepare for. It's a whole other world for me, which is honestly a little scary. My parents told me about knights and balls and ladies in beautiful dresses, but also things that seemed scary to me."

- "Oh, that's totally normal. When I was a little girl, I experienced the same things you did on your way to King's Landing. But now I am a queen and I remember that time with a certain amount of humor," the queen smiled, "And what exactly scares you, my dear? It has now reminded me of my status and the similarities between us. Basically, she's trying to get me to favor her. Expectedly."

- "Father- Lord Stark spoke of some snakes in the capital, as well as rats. Do they have them at Red Castle?" I said something the Queen found amusing.

- "It depends on which way you look at it." she answered calmly.

- "How do you deal with them? Do the soldiers catch them and then take them outside the capital and release them?"

- "No, no. They're killed."

- "Killed?!"

- "They're pests, my dear, and you can't be soft on them. You don't want any of them hurting your loved ones, do you? To prevent that from happening, they must be killed." said the queen in an instructive and confident tone.

- "But isn't that cruel? Can't they just not come back?" I asked cautiously.

- "They can, just like what I said. There may be all sorts of reasons, but that doesn't change the fact that your loved ones will be in danger. Do you understand, Sansa?"

- "I think I do."

- "It's all right. You're too young to realize what I'm saying," the Queen concluded and looked at me kindly, "If you need help, you can always come to me. I feel a certain closeness between us, and so I feel it is my duty to support you."

That's it. She wants to bind me to her, make me dependent so that I listen to her every word. She wants a puppet that can act as both an unconscious spy and a useful tool. And I'll have to play along to create the illusion that she's succeeding.

The queen knows that my father will be busy with the affairs of the kingdom, interrupted only for sleep or meals, and will not be able to give me enough time. The same goes for Arya, as she is too young to help handle matters in the capital, at least from the Queen's perspective. The men my father took with him from Winterfell won't be able to protect me all the time. And, in the end, I will be forced to come to her specifically.

She knows about my conversation with Lord Tyrion. But exactly as much as there were drops of wine left in the Queen's younger brother's empty bottle that night. He has no interest in setting me up, at least not until it hurts him. And since the queen thinks I'm a naive young girl, as everyone except those close to our family knows, she won't question him.

- "I see... Thank you, Your Majesty...."

- "You're welcome, my dear," she smiled contentedly, "Now let's change the subject a little. What do you think of my children?"

- "Oh, them? Unfortunately, I don't get to spend much time with them because of the capital, and Arya keeps them mostly company. But I can say that they are good people. Prince Tommen is helpful and attentive, and Princess Myrcella is cheerful and lively."

- "And Joffrey? What can you say about him?"

- "He's strong and independent. He makes me feel protected and, if I may say so, important."

- "That is true," the queen nodded, "I am glad you have found a common language with my children. In the capital it is difficult for them to find worthwhile company because of their status, and as a mother I feel happy when I see their smiles. Thank you, Sansa."

- "N-Not at all, Your Majesty."

- "Yes, dear," she said, "Thank you for the conversation. I've missed it."

- "Of course. Glad to be of help," I said excitedly, and stood up.

- "You too, my dear."

At these words I bowed and left her a little hastily, which the queen found amusing. At the same pace, once I reached the Starks' tent and was in relative safety, I breathed a sigh of relief and then smiled contentedly.

This conversation had given me a lot. Really a lot, since I'd gotten exactly the Queen's attention I'd hoped for. Now she will feed me true information to make me closer. And from that, I will be able to help my father and Arya when the time is right.

Suddenly I heard Arya's voice in a tent I hadn't noticed.

- "Sansa? What's that strange smile on your face? Have you been dreaming of Lord Solomon again?"

- "Arya? How long have you been here?"

- "Long enough to not miss your smile," she shrugged, "So what happened?"

- "Let's just say something good." I said fairly, to which my little sister tilted her head to the side in confusion.

- "Well, whatever." Arya dropped the matter and went to her bed, wrapping her arms around Nymeria.

I did the same, but instead of the Lady, I hugged Foe, who was comfortably perched on my pillow. Of course, he sneezed unhappily, but then he quickly relented and snuggled into my chest, falling asleep rather quickly.

I had achieved my goal, and so the only thing left to do was to wait for my arrival in the capital. That means I have a chance to relax and gather my strength before the storm.

I wonder what Lord Solomon is doing right now?

-0-

Jon Snow. Near the Wall.

As I followed my brother of the Night's Watch to the cave, I turned recent events over in my head.

As expected, the Night's Watch did not take kindly to outsiders. As I followed Ser Denys into his office, very disgruntled looks flickered down my back, as if urging me to leave the Twilight Tower as quickly as possible. The news that I, a resident of the Seven Kingdoms, was traveling with wildlings spread quickly through the castle, stoking the fires of contempt for me.

Ser Denys himself kept his word and watched me in silence while I wrote a letter to Robb. Then, before my eyes, the maester attached the letter to the raven and released it, after which Ser Denys had me escorted to the cave.

After a while, in complete silence, we reached our destination. Two brothers of the Night's Watch were standing outside the cave, apparently they were the ones who were supposed to watch over us, and they were following orders with disgruntled faces. My escort, however, gave me a loud cluck, pointing to the entrance, and then turned and left without even saying goodbye.

I shook my head and stepped inside.

Adding to the unpleasant reputation, of course, was the fact that no one spoke to me except Ser Denys. It was as if the brothers of the Night's Watch thought it beneath them to talk to someone who consorted with wildlings. I can't say I don't understand them, since that's what everyone in the Seven Kingdoms says, but it doesn't make it any easier.

The cave was deep enough that I had to walk for about a minute before I reached the large part of it that was also the end of the cave. It was lit by one large fire, around which Mara, Cid, and what the loose woman called "Quoren Halfhand" were seated.

What was interesting was that they were having a fairly normal conversation. Not really talking, because the only one who was talking was Mara, while Ghost lay at her feet, Cid silently examining his bow, and Quoren listening and nodding from time to time.

- "It's very unexpected that you're holding a conversation with a brother of the Night's Watch," I said as I took a seat next to them, "I'm impressed that you're capable of that, Mara."

- "Oh?" She looked up at me and sighed in surprise, "When did you get here? I thought you were already dead, as idiots are supposed to be. Have you solved your questions?"

- "Yes. Now all we have to do is wait and hope the crow flies fast," I answered, ignoring her taunt, and then turned my gaze to Quoren, "What were we talking about?"

- "The half-armed man just didn't expect to see our clan and wondered why we were so close to the Wall."

- "Oh? So it's unusual for you to have traveled this far?" I'm interested now.

- "Of course, didn't I mention that? - Mara asked, looking at me as if I were an idiot."

- "Actually, no." I denied it with a twitch of an eyebrow and reached for the dried meat. When the food was in my hand, Ghost jumped up and took it, as if it were meant for him. Mara grinned, Cid ignored everything but his bow, Quoren smiled weakly and faintly, and I sighed tiredly and took another bite.

- "The Moon Arrow clan is located on the eastern part of the Frost Fangs, where they meet the northern part of the Enchanted Forest. They are not interested in pillaging unless it is in retaliation. This applies to the wildlings as well as the people of the Seven Kingdoms." Quoren, who had been silent until then, suddenly joined in.

- "I see. So this was a special outing, then?" I asked Mara.

- "Do you remember how I reacted to the mage you told me about?"

- "I think so."

- "Grandmother organized this sortie to find someone who knew about the mage and bring him in. So basically, you would have gotten beyond the Wall anyway, even if you hadn't asked for it."

They wanted Lord Solomon? Why? And as I recall, Mara's grandmother is a clan elder, but I'm still not clear on the details.

- "But how did she know when and where to send people?" I wondered, expressing my thoughts.

- "Grandmother can dream Green Dreams," Mara said proudly, and both Quoren and I were wide-eyed. "In her last dream, she dreamed of the Wolf Forest. That's where we met, actually. And in that forest, as she described it to us, she saw a silhouette with long white hair, dark skin color, and golden eyes shining with magic. However, the face was hidden, and so when you confirmed those features, I immediately quickened my pace."

I was immersed in thought, not paying attention to anything around me.

Green dreams are a form of divination that is similar to the 'Clairvoyance' that Lord Solomon told me about. They are sure to come true, though not necessarily in the form in which they were dreamed. They are also closely related to the Old Gods, as they could be seen by tree-witches and werewolves, who are, to some extent, their mediums.

It turns out that the Old Gods are interested in Lord Solomon, as Mara's grandmother definitely described him specifically, and I have no idea why. In any case, the only thing left to do is to meet this old woman and ask around for myself.

Hopefully, I can get to the bottom of this. What Lord Solomon was after and what it has to do with me. I do hope so.

-0-

A/N: How's the chapter? Give us your opinion. You may well be able to influence future chapters.
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[mirzael]

Solomon. Braavos.

As I sat in the same chair I had occupied at the beginning of my visit, reading a slim book on the history of Braavos, I watched the Artist, who was currently painting what seemed to be her third painting with a fierce and furious brushstroke. Her face expressed nothing but extreme displeasure and anger, while her eyes remained fixed on the canvas and the maids swarmed around her anxiously.

And there was something amusing about the whole scene, which made me see a slight cheerful smile on my face. Artist's jaws were chewing bread furiously. The same one I preferred to buy, baked in the bakery she owned.

As soon as she was done with the next piece, the maids instantly brought out a not so whole bread, which in shape and size resembled its ancient Roman counterpart. The artist, not shy, or rather, completely ignoring me, practically tore off the next portion and began to chew, without interrupting her work for a second.

As it turned out, there was a kind of hiding place, located in one of the walls, from where, in fact, one of the Artist's maids got the bread. However, nothing unexpected, since this tavern is her domain, and there may be more such hiding places.

When the girls woke up, the first thing they did was look around and assume that everything was a dream. However, when my figure caught their eyes, I could naturally see the expression on their faces instantly change from relieved and relaxed to angry and disgruntled.

The painter even started to look for her brush to attack again. However, she changed her mind rather quickly and started doing what she was doing now. And the Handmaids had nothing to do but meekly help their Mistress blow off some steam.

- "How long are you going to sulk, Mistress Artist?" I asked cheerfully, to which I heard gnashing of teeth, "Just so you know, I have plenty of time, even if you plan to rape the canvas and brush all night."

- "Why don't you get the hell out of here, Master Solomon?"

- "But I haven't gotten my painting yet." I laughed.

- "Take any of them, all of them, and then get the hell out of my tavern. Or better yet, out of Essos, too."

Hmmm... If that's the way she feels....

- "Unfortunately, I don't feel like doing that just yet. Now, if you would be so kind as to take the couch across from me," I said, infusing the last words with magic. The tattoos on the Artist's body flashed with golden light for a moment, and even if her mind didn't give the command, it moved and did as I asked.

Their operating principle is similar to Command Spells. It allows their wielder to give an unquestioned order, which the Servant will follow even if it doesn't want to. Of course, they can be resisted, depending on the target's willpower or resistance to magic, but in this case, the target, namely the Artist, does not have such characteristics.

In addition to giving the order, I added a tracking function to always know where she is, but no more. Being a full-fledged stalker disgusts me, so I limited myself to just that.

Of course, the Artist herself got something too. And that goes for Command Spells as well. There is a bond between the Master who has them and the Servant they affect. Through it, the former transfers his mana to the latter, supporting or enhancing him. In this case it is analogous.

The artist has amazing control over the mana in her body and is already an outstanding magician who could match even John if she had magical training. However, thanks to her tattoos, her reserves have grown. She doesn't notice it now, but when time passes, when her body adapts to the new amount of mana... She won't be a servant, of course, but she will definitely be able to put up some fight.

There was no limit to her rage, but she could do nothing but obey. And in a couple of seconds we were sitting opposite each other, when my cheerful smile met with a vicious grin. And the maids obediently stood behind her and did not try to do anything when they saw the short gesture of their mistress.

- "Thank you," I nodded, to which I received the Artist's head turned aside, "Now let's talk a little. I'll tell it like it is, I'm interested in you. Not in your body, not in your magic, but in yourself. And your mother, who is Kirana Satrion, will be after you on my priority list."

- "I'm touched to the core," the Artist said in a sarcastic tone, "I don't know what I want more, to throw myself into your arms or to die happy."

- "I can't let you do the latter yet, because I'm still interested in what you'll become." I waved him away, and the room was silent for a while.

- "And now what? I'm your slave, aren't I? What am I supposed to do? Clean up your shit? Warm your bed? Cook your meals? How about all of them?" After a while she asked, "And what did you mean by "become"? I've got a pretty good life as it is."

- "As I said before, you live solely to spite your mother," I said calmly, to which I heard Artist's loud clucking, "You are incomplete, at least for now, but when this conflict is over... What do you plan to do? Continue your work in Braavos, living year after year in an endless routine until the beauty leaves you and your hand can't hold a brush? It sounds empty and meaningless."

- "Why do you care? I'll decide that when this woman dies."

- "How long will it take for that to happen? A year? Two? Or ten? Thinking back on it, will you be satisfied with the life you've lived? Or in-"

- "Yes."

- "Or still no, and you'll regret it when you realize that you've been living for her instead of yourself all this time?"

- "Huh?"

- "There's no doubt that revenge is a strong motivation to keep living. And I realize that it's an immutable part of human nature. However, why make it the main goal of your existence, if you can take revenge in other ways, while being successful in both?" I began, shifting my gaze to the paintings, or rather, to one particular painting, "This painting, where the girl is reaching for the sun... What is the idea behind it? What were your thoughts when you painted it? It wasn't intended for a client, that's obvious. You painted it at the call of your own heart, transferring your dream onto the canvas... Why?"

The artist was silent in response, but I could see a small, barely perceptible flame in her eyes. A tiny spark of her own desire buried deep in her heart that she tried to forget.

Contradiction.

The girl in the painting is the image of the Artist, dreamy and distant. The clear sky is freedom. Freedom to do what she wants. And the sun is a dream unfulfilled in her consciousness, which no matter how much she reaches out, she will not be able to touch.

The Artist's goal is simple and clear - revenge, but why hasn't she thrown the painting away? Why is it here, in her own stronghold of self? Why is this painting hanging in plain sight rather than covered in cloth, hidden or burned?

The answer is obvious - she can't do it. Her dream and her goals have nothing in common, and she had to choose between them, between illusion and reality. Or rather, between something achievable and something not so achievable. And she had no choice but to throw her dream away, with no hope of realizing it. Until I arrived, of course.

- "Valyria. An ancient state where dragons were part of the everyday, where the flapping of their leathery wings and streams of hot flame filled the sky... and where the Satrion family name came from. You long to see this land, don't you? Destroyed by cataclysm and time, but preserved by history and greatness."

My words, like the previous ones, went unanswered - only the flames in the Artist's eyes grew larger and brighter.

- "This conflict between you and your mother... if I end it much sooner than you would like...."

- "How? Kill her? I don't want that. I want her to live until she's old enough to think she's powerless to do anything to me. The last thing she sees is a satisfied smile on my face."

- "I'm sorry to disappoint you, but you don't get to choose." I smiled, to which she rounded her eyes in surprise.

- "I thought you said I was higher than her on your list, right? So you lied?"

- "Not at all, but I don't see the point in taking sides without hearing all the parties to the conflict. And as stated before, your life belongs to me. And since that's the case, I'll decide your mother's fate, not you."

- "Tch."

- "Glad that we could come to a normal conversation, Mistress Artist." I said and stood up.

- "And I'm not so much."

- "I'll see you later. I'll visit you when I talk to your mother. After all, she invited me for a glass of wine, and there is a good reason to respond to her invitation." I smiled, at which the Artist made a displeased face, and a moment later disappeared from the tavern, returning to the Red Temple.

A pleasant and eventful evening. It could be said that I had found another companion to visit Valyria, all that remained was to settle the matter between the Artist and her mother. However, there will still be a visit to King's Harbor, as well as picking up Kinvara from Winterfell. Plenty to do, but that only makes it more interesting, doesn't it?

-0-

Kinvara. Winterfell.

- "Thank you, Lina." I said, being in my king's room and staring at the flames in the fireplace.

It was my routine, my desire to know how he had spent the day, and what events had touched him. With his passing, the fire that fueled my passion was gone. And even though I'm not a stranger here, but practically a full-fledged part of the Stark family, a longing gnaws at my heart.

I realize my desires are selfish and irrational, and my king has affairs and interests I have no place in. My soul yearns to leave Winterfell this very second and go to Braavos, to my king, but he has given me orders. Orders and a promise that he would take me.

I want to believe that he will keep his word, and that I will be able to be in his presence again, but... I also realize that I am too insignificant.

I don't know when it started, but I became more... alive. It was like I was younger and back to a time when my youth was just kicking in. Under the pressure of this feeling, the "High Priestess of Kinvara" is slowly giving way to another "Kinvara". Younger, more romantic, more... selfish.

Before I met my king, I was sure I would have thrown myself into the fire at the mere word of the Lord of Light, but now I have my doubts. Now I want to live, I want to be near my king, I want to feel the warmth of his skin, I want to hear his heartbeat.

I can't say it's love, I don't have the confidence to call the feeling I'm experiencing love, but love? Definitely.

I know it's bad, that at some point, if he gives me the order to die, my heart will freeze and my body will falter and quite possibly he'll be disappointed in me, but....

Being close to him fills my world with color, the way an artist adds color to a blank canvas, turning it into a work of art. It creates in me a desire to not waste my life on anything but being near him. My old body, supported by the magic of the Lord of Light, that should have turned to dust long ago, fills with life like a new birth.

And it makes me feel fear. Fear that my selfishness might lead to something I would never want. To see the disappointment in my king's eyes. To see the world burn from my actions, my desires... And that's scary. Very frightening.

- "I shouldn't, but you could ask Lord Solomon yourself. If you like, I could call him and give him the earring. He's in the temple right now."

- "I don't want to distract him for nothing, and neither should you. His time is far more valuable than ours combined. And given your temper..."

- "It's all right," Lina chuckled, "Lord Solomon himself said he was fine with it."

- "Then forget what I said and do as he wants," I sighed and shook my head, "Is that it?"

- "Hmm... Let me think about it..." Lina mumbled thoughtfully, "I wouldn't say it's important, but Lord Solomon has recently taken an interest in a girl. According to him, she is an outstanding mage and he plans to take her with him when he leaves Braavos."

The moment I heard her, my body moved faster than my thoughts and a hard and loud bang resounded through the room. A nearby table fell on its side, scattering the books and lamp lying on it, making the sound of shattering glass.

I felt a pain in my hand, and when I looked down at it, I saw a reddened patch of skin, which must have been what I had hit the table with. But the pain in my heart was stronger, as if my chest had been pierced with a spear and moved from side to side.

Girl? Interested?

I managed to calm down. It took a few deep breaths and pleasant memories, but the pain in my heart didn't want to subside.

- "Is that it?" I asked in a tone of cold anger and resentment.

- "It is now. That's it," Lina said worriedly, and paused, "Are you all right? Should I call Lord Solomon after all?"

- "No. Just get on with your work. See you tomorrow." I said quickly and pressed the earring, cutting the connection.

With a quick glance around the room, which was now a bit of a mess, I found nothing better to do than settle into the bed where my king slept. It was cold, but I was relieved at the thought that it belonged to him. And the pain slowly faded, giving way to longing, sadness, and... jealousy.

I need to sleep. It was the only way I could regain my composure, and... maybe I should have asked Lina to call for him after all. Just for a few moments, no more. It would have been enough to chase away the longing and replenish my strength, but....

I wrapped myself in the blanket and closed my eyes.

I'd ask her some other time... Maybe tomorrow or the day after... But I'd ask her... Definitely.....

-0-

A/N: How's the chapter? Give us your opinion. You may well be able to influence future chapters.
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[mirzael]

Robb Stark. Winterfell.

Sitting in my father's study at his own desk, I sorted through document after document, with my mother standing beside me to help, sorting them by importance and taking care of anything minor. It had become a new routine for me once my father left Winterfell and I took over his duties.

Every morning, right after breakfast, and every evening, like now, I'd come here and sometimes stay up late into the night. The day was taken up with training, rounds, minor matters, and so on. As a result, I had almost no free time. I couldn't even play with Bran and Rickon, simply because I was busy and my mother was doing it. And then there's this visit, or rather inspection, of the Slates, to Blackwater, because last reports say they're suspiciously quiet and docile.

I must say, once we started producing paper, the work became easier. Whereas earlier versions required more storage space and some careful handling, there are no such problems now. The office had to be expanded a bit to put extra furniture to hold the papers, and a hidden stash behind it for particularly important types of it.

Since there was a chance they could have been stolen or something, where the stash was located was known only by my father as lord, my mother as his right hand, and me as heir. Finding it was almost impossible, as to open the stash one would have to lower a tiny lever inside a certain shelf, and an intruder would need to get information from one of us to find it.

There were many such papers, and most of them were devoted to important information, gleaned from the reports of spies from as far north and south as our men could get. They came every half month through roundabouts: through guards, merchants, ravens, and even prostitutes. In the end there was a lot of work to be done, but it was no less necessary.

After receiving and reviewing the reports for this period, I had an idea. I may not be Lord of the North at this point, but I think it's worth it. Not only are the reports themselves in its favor, but also the new situation in the North.

Lord Solomon has spurred the development of this unfriendly land. A couple of ideas drawn from his stories were able to improve the circulation of money, food, construction, and so on. This is especially thanks to the production of glass, which we used to build greenhouses. They have made it possible to almost completely solve the food issue, and we now buy only one-tenth of what we used to buy.

Really, it's not just them, it's the hunting. From time to time, Father has encouraged the villagers to take up hunting to replenish their supplies, through ransom. Winterfell bought back either parts, like hides and meat, or all of it, which helped stimulate the "economy," as Lord Solomon explained it. Residents spent more money, and the coffers were replenished accordingly. Plus, it allowed for a slight increase in tax, not without improving the lives of the northerners.

The city of Winterfell, located at the walls of Winterfell, is slowly expanding. Before leaving, father gave his approval to the builders and engineers. The city could not be called a full city before, but now the first phase of construction has begun.

The plan is ambitious, but also costly. As it is still winter, raw materials have been procured and, if possible, processed, but it will soon be over, and with spring everything will come into motion.

Because of more money, it has become more favorable. People from all over Westeros who are not happy with the South are flocking here. In theory, this could be considered desertion, but since they are still subject to the Crown, the problem is solved through taxation. Besides, there's plenty of work here.

At the moment we have enough money to rebuild Kailin's Ditch to improve logistics between North and South, but not enough workers. Even though new recruits are coming in steadily, there are still not enough of them, even if we offer them certain incentives, like not having to pay tax for the first three months of their lives. And then there's the matter of the Crown's permission to build a fortress and a small town around it.

I sighed tiredly, rubbing my eyes, and went back to work.

- "You should rest, Robb," my mother said a little worriedly, "You even skipped dinner."

- "I'll eat when I'm done, don't worry. Not much left, judging by this stack," I shook my head, "Besides, take a look."

- "What is it?" She asked and took a certain report in her hand, "A financial report? What are you referring to?"

- "It's this one." Now I pulled out a map of Westeros and, unfolding it on the table, pointed to one place.

- "The Darkwood? What do the Glovers and the finance report have to do with it?" Raised an eyebrow at my mother.

- "Do you think Lord Glover would allow a shipyard to be built near Darkwood?" I asked, at which she rounded her eyes in surprise.

- "Why a shipyard?" Mother asked, and then thought for a moment, "Ironborn? You're wary of them, aren't you? But why a shipyard? Wouldn't fortifying the castle be more effective? And as I recall, one of the Greyjoy children is in White Harbor as a hostage. I don't think they're going to do anything about it, especially after their failed rebellion. And Kailin's Moat will be able to turn a profit, unlike the shipyard, and there's only enough gold for one scheme."

- "Maybe I'm being paranoid, but since the North is thriving right now, there's nothing stopping the Greyjoys from trying to get their piece of the pie. On this side of Westeros, we have no acceptable defenses against them, nor do we have the ships to fight back. Their goal is to plunder, not fight, and so they can bypass fortresses and patrols. There are more than enough materials in that area, and the Mormonts would be only too happy to help and provide shipbuilders."

- "But won't they be setting themselves up with this? Their plundering will be seen as treason against the crown, and this time His Majesty will show no mercy. And I don't think he'll look past building a fleet," Mother shook her head, then suddenly froze, "No, wait. The Greyjoys will just say it wasn't them, but common pirates or wildlings. But you're forgetting that there's no advantage to the Glovers in agreeing to such a thing. The same Greyjoys might well steal the ships, and you'd just paint a target on the Dark Forest. It takes money to maintain a shipyard, too."

- "I hadn't thought of that. But I don't need a fleet, at least not yet, but a couple of fast little ships to get word of an attack in time," I sighed, and then propped my head up with my hand, "Maybe this really isn't my best idea."

- "Well, I wouldn't say that."

The third voice startled both my mother and me, as we both jumped up and down in our seats, looking for its source. It was, of course, Lady Kinvara, who had entered the study unnoticed by both of us and had been here for an unknown amount of time.

- "Lady Kinvara! You frightened me!" Mother said in an agitated voice.

- "Yes... Could you make us aware of your presence, please? I wouldn't want to die so early and so foolishly." I added, taking a couple of deep breaths.

- "But getting back to the topic, your idea is not a bad one."

- "What do you mean?" I understand what Robb wants, but our hands are tied.

- "Euron Greyjoy." said Lady Kinvara's name and fell silent, as if to explain everything.

- "I beg your pardon? I didn't understand. As far as I know, he's the younger brother of the current Lord Pyke, but he deserted and not much is known about him."

- "That's right. He hasn't been seen since the rebellion," Mother added, "What does that have to do with him?"

- "For years he's been pirating in the Slaver's Bay and near Volantis, but now his range has changed. It has shifted to Lys and Dorne, closer to us. I don't know its purpose, but it's definitely headed for the Iron Islands, at least that's what I've been told."

- "Uh, relayed?" Mother inquired.

- "Lys is known for its brothels, and there are plenty of women who follow the Lord of Light. Euron Greyjoy has stayed there, of course he told me. He also has a decent fleet."

I wondered.

It's strange. Why would he come back? Father told me he burned Tywin Lannister's fleet during the rebellion, and is now a declared traitor to the Crown. To show his face here is to commit suicide. There has been no important news from Lordport, where Pyke is, and I don't think our men could have missed anything.

- "And what do you suggest, Lady Kinvara? To rebuild the shipyard after all?" I asked, to which she nodded in the affirmative, "But then what about the king? He will demand answers. We will definitely attract attention, as the Master of whisperers is somehow getting information unseen from us."

- "Oh? This matter is quite solvable." Lady Kinvara said calmly and glanced at her mother. The latter didn't quite understand what the look was about at first, judging by the look on her face, but after a few seconds it seemed to dawn on her. The mother nodded briefly and thought for a moment.

- "Uh... I don't understand?" I spoke my thoughts.

- "It's all right, Robb. We can start the layout of the shipyard, I'll explain it to you later," Mother said, and then headed for the exit, "I need to have a word with Lady Kinvara. Don't stay out too late."

- "Okay?"

With that, they left the study, leaving me alone.

I didn't realize what silent agreement they'd come to, but since it was on them, it was worth getting back to work. There was no point in worrying, as their loyalty was assured, as was their interest in the success of Stark House.

Shaking my head, I put the map away and pulled out the messages the ravens had delivered. Ten minutes later, when most of them had been read and sorted, I got my hands on one that had been sent by Ser Denys of the Twilight Tower. It intrigued me, as letters rarely came from there. Once every two or three months at most, regarding uniforms or composition.

I unfolded the letter and began to read it, and when I did, I grinned and wondered at the same time.

Jon is in a band with the wildlings? And he needs me to confirm what he's saying? I don't know what he's up to, but if that's the way it is, then ...

- "Get me Maester Luwin, I need to send a raven!" I shouted a moment later as I finished writing my reply. Not five minutes later, he appeared and came into the study after knocking.

- "My lord." He greeted me and bowed.

- "Send this to the Twilight Tower, and pick the fastest raven. It's about Jon." I said and handed him the letter.

- "Of course. Is it something serious?"

- "I wouldn't say so," I grinned, "He's got his usual adventures on his ass."

- "I see," Luwin smiled, and then bowed, "If I may."

And with those words he left the office, and I was alone again around the shelves of papers and the lamp on the desk.

Almost done, and then we can eat. Better to get everything done for today than increase the amount of work for tomorrow. Maybe I'll even get to play with Bran and Rickon... At least I hope so....

-0-

Kinvara. Winterfell.

After leaving Lord Stark's office, Lady Stark and I headed to the balcony where we planned to talk details. Once we were there, she walked to the railing and looked out into the distance, and I stood just behind her. A silence hung between us, but each of us realized exactly what we had to discuss.

- "Do you think this will work?" She started without turning her head.

- "I think it can't help but work. The content of your letters may not have changed much, but he's definitely noticed that he's undermined your trust. This is a chance to win it back that he can't help but take. His position allows him to do so, after all. And Robb will be just about to leave Winterfell when you're in the public eye, as well as responsible for the Stark family."

- "But isn't that a little too obvious? Even I think it looks like I'm trying to take advantage of him."

- "He loves you," I said with an indifferent smile, "And people tend to act rashly when they have that feeling."

- "Speaking from experience?" Lady Stark grinned, turning to face me. And at those words, I froze without even noticing it.

- "It is... perhaps," I said, coming to my senses, "And there are more than enough cases of it. After all, I've seen it with my own eyes, and I'm quite old, mind you."

- "Dodged an arrow, eh? But now that you're on the subject, how old are you? I've heard of the magic of the Red Priestesses, but that's about it. They are said to live for over a hundred years, keeping their beauty and youthfulness, is that true?"

- "With certain conditions, but it's true. Besides, it's very rude to ask a lady's age, isn't it?"

- "Then I'm lucky I'm not a lady, but an old lady, aren't I?" she laughed, and I laughed back.

- "You're one to talk."

- "Well, you can't escape the truth," Lady Stark shrugged and turned to leave, "I'm going to my room. I need to make preparations and send him a letter to get him ready. Good night, Lady Kinvara, or rather, Old Lady Kinvara."

- "You too, old Cat."

With that, she left, and I went to my room, thinking.

Perhaps I should contact Lord Solomon...? No, not today. I don't want to distract him from his business. Perhaps later, sometime.

-0-

A/N: How's the chapter? Give us your opinion. You may well be able to influence future chapters.
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[mirzael]

Solomon. Braavos.

The next morning came, and after getting cleaned up, I made my way to the outdoor terrace of the Red Temple, where I was usually called for breakfast. The building was rectangular in shape and had a flat roof, on which was the terrace with a small annex where there was a large brazier with a burning flame.

And there was enough space to divide it for different needs. There were three sections in all: the terrace, the place from which sermons were preached, and a sort of seating area with flowerbeds and benches. From there, almost the entire Island of the Gods was visible, creating a mesmerizing and peaceful view.

Even if I didn't always respond to invitations, the table was always set for two people, Lina and me, so I didn't have to wait around, making it inconvenient. Yes most of the time they were replaced by walking around town and snacking on that bread, but today there was a reason to stay at the temple. And for that I would go in search of it right after breakfast.

When I arrived, my eyes found Lina sitting at the table, absorbed in her own thoughts. Her usual playful mood was still present, but every now and then a slight frown would slip across her face.

As stated earlier, the table was set for two. The dishes on it consisted of light foods like roasted fish, fruits, a glass of wine, and freshly baked bread, which could be called healthy food. This is rare in this era. It allowed me to keep my body toned without eating to excess.

I walked to the table and took a free chair, then looked at Lina, who still hadn't noticed me.

- "Good morning, Lina. You seem a little pensive today. Is something wrong?" I asked and took a sip of wine.

- "Oh, I apologize, "my king," I didn't notice you. It's rare that you're here," Lina said in her usual manner, "And I wouldn't say anything's wrong, just a couple of intrusive thoughts."

- "Hmm? Like what?"

- "It's alright, you don't need to worry," she shook her head, and started to eat her breakfast, "I take it you need something? You don't usually keep me company."

- "You could say that. Though, I thought you were busy with your morning prayers. Is today some kind of special day?" I asked in a skeptical tone, pointing my head outside the temple.

After my prank in the Pearl Coast, almost every day is special. Because of the drastic change in the weather, the power of every religion in all of Braavos has erupted with renewed vigor.

Every morning and every evening, the Island of the Gods was overflowing with worshipers hoping to pray away the "wrath of the gods" that had fallen upon the city. The clouds that covered the sky, the sudden rain and the flashing lightning reminded the inhabitants of the end of Valyria, and so they threw all their energies to placate the "gods". Generous donations poured in, and the temples and their surroundings were filled with crowds of worshipers. This is actually what is happening now.

Of course, no one has learned the real reason, or even guesses about it. Although, Lina, most likely, guessed what was the matter, but did not show it. Even in spite of her temperament, she doesn't meddle in my affairs unless I raise the issue myself. But that's just me, I guess.

- "I don't always do it, only when I can. I have other duties, after all." Lina giggled.

I smiled.

As it turns out, Lina is very... lazy, to put it most accurately. No, of course, she does her job well, but that leaves her with plenty of free time, which is usually used for frivolous conversations with various people. She does all the necessary things quickly and accurately, but she also prefers not to take on things that can be left out, thus freeing up her schedule.

To summarize, about two-thirds of her workday is given to her alone. One would think that for Lina, she wouldn't be the best candidate for the position of High Priestess, but that is far from the case. There is no shortage of benefits here for the temple itself.

She uses her free time to make connections, and any connections that might be beneficial. And it's not just the upper class of the city, like at that Tarmo reception where she was given special attention in the form of friendly banter or something similar, but someone smaller as well.

As I strolled through the city, about a quarter of the merchants and nobles greeted me with a mention of Lina. Some simply inquired about her well-being. Others asked me to give her a few friendly words, and some asked about her relationship with me.

Of course, her character and behavior played a role here. With her carefree and playfulness she manages to find a common language with almost any person, from what class it would not be. Even the orphans that walk around the neighborhood call her "good sister", which I heard several times with my own ears.

If Kinvara is serious and busy, Lina is the opposite of her. And I can't say she's not suited for her position. Based on all this, and my own observations, the Red Temple is one of the four most powerful forces in Braavos, along with the Black and White House, the Iron Bank, and the Sea Lord, only because of her. I don't know how old she is, but she's still blooming and fragrant at heart.

- "So, what can I do for you, "my king"?" Lina asked, putting down her cutlery and drinking her wine.

- "I would like you to send a letter to Lady Kirana. I need to visit her and find out the right time to do so."

- "Hmm? Kirana?" She was surprised, and interest danced in her eyes. She placed her elbows on the table, putting her glass down, and cupped her face with her palms, "You found out about the showdown between them, eh? May I know more about it? Somehow I think the cause of the conflict lies right in front of me, and it is very simple in its content. The stolen man? Gold? Territory, perhaps? Or a mother-daughter relationship? I would very much like to find out!"

I smiled crookedly, watching her enthusiasm and eyes practically glowing with interest.

Ah, yes. I'd forgotten about her insight. It was clear from her words, though, that the conflict between them was known among a certain circle of people.

- "Well, you're close to the truth. I'll tell you later when I've resolved their issue," I said, "And it's rude to pry, Lina. Keep your curiosity in check."

- "But you're the one doing it," she pouted, "What's it worth to you to let me in on the details?"

- "You could say I was forced into it, so it doesn't count," I laughed, "So, will you fulfill my request?"

- "Of course, of course," Lina nodded, "But I'd like to hear the details later."

- "It will depend on the circumstances."

Our meal went on at the same pace. Lina asked about life in Winterfell, her impressions of Pentos, and what she thought was the most interesting thing about my first meeting with Kinvara. Her reaction to my story was about what I expected-a slight giggle and playful teasing. Lina was amused by my actions at that moment, for Kinvara's behavior was indeed unexpected and unusual.

At some point, one of the priestesses entered the terrace, and as she approached us, she bowed respectfully and caught our attention.

- "I apologize for the distraction, High Priestess, lord Solomon."

- "It's alright Tullia, you don't need to worry," Lina waved her hand and smiled, "Is something wrong?"

- "There are guests in the temple," she began, and then turned to me, "They seek an audience with you, lord Solomon."

- "Me?" I was surprised, and so was Lina, "They didn't say their names?"

- "It's the Martells, Master Solomon."

Hmm? If I'm not mistaken, the Martells rule Dorne, one of the southernmost parts of the Seven Kingdoms. Famous for its sands, its hot climate, its treatment of bastards, and relations in general. The last two points were what got me interested in digging a little deeper, as with the Starks.

A couple of local texts that complemented the ones I'd read in Winterfell mentioned why Dorne was so different. A certain Queen of the Roynars, Nymeria, fled Valyrian Freehold and the dragons with her men, landing in Dorne. She became the consort of Mors Martell, the head of the house a thousand years ago, and because of this the region adopted some of the traditions of Nymeria's people. This is actually why the Martells' coat of arms is a spear against the sun, as Mors' coat of arms was a spear and Nymeria's coat of arms was the sun.

While in the rest of the Seven Kingdoms it is accepted that a woman should be refined, beautiful, malleable and so on, there is no such tradition in Dorne thanks to Nymeria. The Martells are interesting, but nowhere near as interesting as the Starks.

- "What shall we do with them, "my king"?" Lina asked, to which I thought for a moment.

- "I suppose they could be listened to. They must have a good reason for crossing the Narrow Sea just to see me."

- "Good, then I'll join you as soon as I fulfill your request," Lina nodded. "Tullia, will you escort lord Solomon to his guests?"

- "As you command, High Priestess."

-0-

A short while later.

The priestess led me to the guest room, bowing and leaving me in front of its entrance. I nodded briefly and entered, where there were two men and a middle-aged woman in rich robes.

The man had a sullen face with deep creases, thin arched eyebrows, and large eyes as black and shiny as mineral oil. Thick black hair with barely noticeable graying fell back from a promontory on his forehead as sharp as his nose.

The woman, on the other hand, looked rather... ordinary. No offense to her, but both Kinvara and Lina were definitely superior in appearance. She had dark eyes and black hair, but there was something appealing about the look. Like Artist, but much weaker.

When they saw me, their eyes widened a little in surprise, or even shock, I'd say, and their bodies froze for a moment. Then, when they recovered, they glanced at each other briefly, and then nodded and smiled at each other. I don't know why, but it seemed a little suspicious to me.

- "I suppose you know me, since you've come to meet me?" I began, to which they nodded affirmatively.

- "Yes, through our mutual friend, Halon," the man said, to which I raised an eyebrow.

I wonder if he's not lying. Also, the man didn't emphasize the word 'friend', his speech was smooth and confident, which means he really thinks so. Who are the people in front of me if he considers them friends? That said, I don't know much about his life before we met, though I didn't really ask.

- "Halon?"

- "I had been traveling around Essos for a while, visiting the Free Cities, being a member of the Younger Sons, and even putting together my own mercenary unit. By pure chance, I met Halon, who I actually became fast friends with. Though, at first, we built a purely business relationship rather than a friendship. After all, he was the son of a Magister, as you know, and I was the previous Prince of Dorne."

He paused and accepted the woman's outstretched glass of wine, then wet his throat.

- "I hope I am not boring you with my story, Lord Solomon?"

- "You may address me simply as "Solomon." I'm not a fan of formalities," I said, "And you haven't introduced yourself."

- "I apologize, sometimes something so commonplace slips my mind," the man laughed, and the woman shook her head, "Oberyn Martell, younger brother of Doran Martell, the current Prince of Dorne. And this is Ellaria Sand, my mistress and the light of my life. And Halon mentioned it, so if you don't mind, I'll drop the formalities."

- "I'll be glad to do that," I nodded, "And you can go ahead. I hadn't asked Halon much about his life."

- "No wonder. He's not exactly eager to share his life with anyone himself," Oberyn grinned, "Back on topic, at the time I thought it would be a good idea to befriend him. Halon has shown himself to be a discreet, loyal, intelligent and capable man who one would want to recruit in case of anything. After all, there are very few such men in Westeros."

- "That's true," Ellaria nodded, "As far as we've heard, you first appeared at Winterfell. I must say you were very lucky to meet the Starks. They are, to be honest, very simple. Honor and duty are good, but the Starks aren't the most subtle and... knowledgeable. Well, that's true. At least, that's how it was before I got here."

- "When I heard about the arrangement between Halon and his father, I offered him a move to Sunspear and a high position, but he declined. As you know, he's also stubborn as a sheep, and he wanted to achieve the goal you helped him achieve. News of his father's death and his new position inspired me to contact him again."

- "And that's why you're here?"

- "His tales of your magic and the rumors surrounding you surprised me to my core," Oberyn smiled broadly and looked at me expectantly, "May I see that spear Halon wrote about? It's my favorite weapon, and I can't wait to see it with my own eyes. Red as blood, deadly as poison, and beautiful as the sands of Dorne."

Hmm? I doubt that's the only reason they're here. More likely, Oberyn just wants to make sure of my magic. Besides, he didn't answer the question.

One thought, and in front of me, across my eyes so that the point was pointed at the wall, a Gae Bolg floating in the air appeared and instantly attracted the duo's attention.

The aura didn't scare them, at least not much, but they were definitely fascinated by the Noble Phantasm of Ireland's ancient hero.

Oberyn was especially affected, as his eyes practically lit up with admiration and explored every pattern of the weapon. He was like a child that saw a toy and immediately fell in love with it, casting everything else aside into a distant drawer. I think I even noticed saliva coming out of his mouth.

- "It's beautiful... It's truly beautiful..." he murmured.

- "...I can't believe that such a work of art is actually a weapon." Ellaria added, also mesmerized by the beauty of the spear.

Well, I'll give them time to come to their senses. After all, you don't always get to see the weapons sung about in legends, right?

-0-

A/N: How's the chapter? Give us your opinion. You may well be able to influence future chapters.
My P.a.t.r.e.o.n: P.a.t.r.e.o.n.c.o.m/mirzael
You'll be able to read more chapters there.

 

[mirzael]

Solomon. Braavos.

The guests were brought out of their stupor by Lina's arrival. As their gazes met, cheerful smiles appeared on the faces of Oberyn, Ellaria, and Lina herself, and I put away the Gae Bolg as it was no longer needed.

- "Oh? Is it the snake boy and...?" Lina began, taking a seat beside me.

- "Ellaria Sand," Ellaria introduced herself and smiled seductively, not hiding her gaze on the High Priestess' body, "Oberyn has told me much about you, Lady Lina, and I must say his words about your beauty are not exaggerated in the least."

- "How sweet you are, Ellaria, and let's dispense with the formalities," Lina waved her hand, "After all, we can be considered friends now that he has chosen you and talked about me, can't we, snake boy?"

- "You haven't changed, Lina, you're still as carefree as ever," Oberyn laughed, "And how have you not been removed as High Priestess yet? I suppose the Red Men have very peculiar requirements in that regard."

- "Don't think about it too much, but I can assure you they are much better than the Seven," Lina chuckled, then looked at me, "Has he been a nuisance to you, 'my King'? That snake can often be overly excitable and amorous."

- "My king"?" Oberyn marveled, as did his mistress.

- "How romantic," Ellaria smiled, "Who is this young maiden that calls Solomon that?"

I raised an eyebrow.

Romantic? I wouldn't say that. Kinvara is addressed that way because of circumstances surrounding my importance and R'Glor. I am important to the fate of this world, and am the one who will apparently have to do battle with the ancient evil and end this conflict.

Kinvara has shown herself to be a loyal, compliant, and extremely accommodating person when it comes to me. And given her occupation prior to meeting me, that would fully explain her appeal to me. As-Azor Ahai himself, the foretold savior is less important than I am.

Perhaps I should speak to her on the matter when I meet her. My plans are to leave Braavos as soon as I resolve the issue between Artist and her mother, taking the former with me if possible. This girl has caught my attention, and I can safely say that I have no desire to let her go.

- "My ward," I answered, and interest flashed in Oberyn and Ellaria's eyes, "Anyway, you still haven't answered why you sought me out, Oberyn. What did the brother of the ruler of Dorne need since he crossed the Narrow Sea in search of some sorcerer?"

- "You underestimate your importance, Solomon," Oberyn grinned, "the Starks are only on their feet because of you and your connections. Pentos has shifted power to one that will back you at your word. The Red Men obey you as their god, and the doors of the House of Black and White are always open to you. You are certainly not 'some sorcerer'."

- "My lover is right," Ellaria nodded, "What the Black and White House is worth. The Faceless Ones are the best assassins in the whole world. They are emotionless, efficient and incorruptible. When they are ordered to do so, the target will be eliminated wherever they are. They are respected and feared at the same time. I have no doubt that any order with you as the chosen target will be rejected or more."

- "And the Red Men, even if their influence in Westeros is practically zero, have tangible power here in Essos," Oberyn added, "Even in Norvos, where my sister-in-law, Mellario, lives, they are respected and reckoned with. Though, the city is essentially ruled by a different religion. The Starks have climbed out of poverty and are slowly catching up to the rest of the Great Houses. And they have room to grow, as their territory is the largest of all."

Hmm? My influence is that great? I realized that it was partly true, but not to that extent. If you think about it and put the two religions aside, with enough money and time, the Starks could secede from the Seven Kingdoms while making the others count.

The North is unfriendly. The winters there are harsh and merciless. The many predators, the difficult landscape, and the amount of forests make it a very uncomfortable land to conquer. Due to the small number of paved roads, the offensive becomes extremely slow and predictable. Defending the land is much easier in both resources and effort. The problem may arise solely from the sea, as the North does not have at least an acceptable navy.

Of all the Stark vassals, only the Mormonts and the Manderlys are involved in shipbuilding. The former are forced to have ships due to their location on a separate island, while the latter own White Harbor, one of the largest ports in Westeros.

Ned has a lot of unused land, just as Oberyn said, and if it is settled, ennobled and fortified, the "Kingdom" of the North will indeed become a kingdom.

It would take a tremendous amount of resources, though. If plant breeding was practiced here to make the plants tolerant to the climate and reduce the maintenance requirements, the process would go faster. In the current era, only strategic advantage matters, which does not include breeding. Money is not enough, nor is the level of scientific progress.

Although, I could give a push, but I don't see the point. The world needs to develop at its own pace when people like me don't have an influence. Glass production was already known, and paper and printing presses came about in roughly a similar time frame of the two worlds. Lenses are a bit more complicated with lenses, but not so much as to break out of "normality" and conformity.

- "So, what's the deal?" I repeated the question, at which their smiles disappeared, revealing serious faces.

- "Can you heal my brother?" Oberyn asked, "Dorne is willing to pay any price you name."

Hm? That's a lot of trust for a friend of another friend, especially if he's a mage. On top of that, his words provoked something. Something strong. It was as if I'd been hit in the head and had all but one thought knocked out of there.

It was a similar feeling when I spoke to Daenerys' brother. When the madman had spoken bluntly about how he planned to use me, as if I were a helpless puppet in front of him.

A disgusting feeling that resonated truly strong in my soul. Perhaps even enough to use force. But not now, at least not unless Oberyn explains it to me.

- "Your request sounds very strange," I began, to which he did not react as if he expected something like that, "Yes, Halon and I are friends, but still, magic is something unnatural, even dirty, to the people of Westeros. Your phrasing hints at the great importance of this request, and yet you trust the life of your brother, the ruler of the Great House, to an unknown sorcerer."

I put my hand on the armrest and propped her head up.

- "When I was at Winterfell, I was able to study the general situation of the Seven Kingdoms. Doran Martell, the current Prince of Dorne, very rarely goes out in public, and there is no word of illness. Yes, there are various rumors, but they are still rumors, nothing more. And now you are asking me to cure his illness, that is, directly admitting the weakness of the head of the house. And you have plenty of enemies, or rather those you want revenge on. Elia Martell."

Oberyn clenched his fists at the name, and Ellaria frowned.

- "I know the circumstances of her death. The versions of the rumors vary, but one detail is the same everywhere."

- "Why did you mention her?" Oberyn asked with a grin.

- "You're a friend of Halon's as much as I am, but we're not friends, and we're not enemies yet," I said calmly, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Lina squint at the guests. "Your request would make sense if we were, but we're not. You came here for another reason, hidden behind your brother's concern."

- "But-" Ellaria wanted to start, but I stopped her with a raised hand.

- "I'm sure I know why you're here for real. It's too obvious when your family's circumstances and my magic are known," I said and directed a neutral look at him, "Now I'm giving you a chance to say it yourself. If you don't..."

- "Are you going to kill us?" Oberyn asked defiantly.

- "No, not this time. As a tribute to Halon, we will part peacefully. But then, when we meet again, I will not think twice before acting. We will not become enemies, but between you and the man I do not know, I will choose his side over yours. So, what is your choice, Oberyn Martell?"

There was a tense silence in the room, accompanied only by the sound of breathing. Oberyn stared at me intently as he pondered. Ellaria gave him a concerned look, and I waited patiently for his decision. Lina, on the other hand, would take my side, whatever my opinion, and so did nothing.

It went on like this for a while, and when I was about to send them away, Oberyn took a deep breath and bowed his head, to which my eyebrow rose in surprise.

- "You're right, I should have been honest with you. I hope we can forget my transgression and start over, but the request was indeed sincere," he began and glanced at me, "By coming to Dorne and curing my brother, you would have gotten everything you wanted. We would use every method in existence to get you as an ally and friend. And when we did, you would help us bring justice. My sister, she-"

He paused, and Ellaria put her hand on his shoulder for moral support.

- "She has had a great deal of bad luck. First she was a hostage in the hands of the Mad King, and then-" his face creased at the memory, "Now her murderer walks freely around Red Castle as if he were a hero. And the Lannisters he serves don't even think about any punishment. We want justice, we want blood. Him and every man involved in Elia's death."

Then he fixed his steely gaze, filled with pain, directly on me.

- "Help us, Solomon, and we will help you. Become our ally, our brother, our strength, and we in turn will do the same. We don't want to use you - only to become more than acquaintances."

- "What do you mean by that?" I raised an eyebrow.

- "We know that Eddard Stark is the new Hand of the King, and now he, along with his daughters, is on his way to King's Landing. Arryn's death was no accident. Apparently, he learned something important to the Lannisters, who got rid of him, because only they have both the ability to do it and the motive. Knowing Lord Stark, he'll stumble upon it, just as the previous Hand did."

- "Yes. Lord Stark is incapable of being secretive. His personality just isn't capable of it. And the Lannisters will go to great lengths to silence him. They'll use anything, even his daughters," Ellaria said, "We'll prevent it. The Martells are the Great House, with powers above a great many people. The Lannisters and even the King won't be able to shut us up without consequences for themselves. The Starks will have our protection, and you will have the assurance that they will be all right. House Stark and House Martell will be allies, a huge force to be reckoned with. You can't be everywhere at once, can you? We'll cover that front."

That makes sense. It would if I were someone weaker. What the Martells are proposing could be completely overridden by the Servants. However, it has consequences for the world, and in the long term.

The air has already changed. I can feel it filling with mana drop by drop, indicating that the decisive moment in the story is approaching. And the presence of just two Servants and me only reinforces it, making the world adjust to the change.

In that vision, I was personally involved in the battle, which shows how strong the differences are. That is, something forced future me to use my power that I prefer to avoid. We're not talking about my decisions based on emotion here, like now with Oberyn, but something much larger than that.

- "Your point of view seems biased to me. Why are you so sure the Lannisters are responsible for killing the Hand?"

- "Because they own Castle Red. They're the only ones who stay there at all times. Not the Baratheons, not the Starks, not anyone. And they're the ones who are there the most. The Hand of the King is tightly bound only to the King and his family, and our conclusion has more than a firm basis," Oberyn replied, "Now I've told you everything. Will you help us, Solomon?"

I wondered.

Now he was really sincere. Justice is a delicate thing, the boundaries of which are very easy to cross without even realizing it. But Oberyn has clearly said he only wants the blood of those involved, and that's pretty commendable.

His situation is a bit touchy, and just dealing with a murderer isn't going to work. Send in mercenaries? You could, but it would be too obvious who sent them. Essentially, it's trespassing on someone else's property, since the assassin is serving the Lannisters on an official level.

There would be questions, a demand for compensation and an obvious refusal, and then a conflict that could very well start a war with the Martells as rebels. The Queen of the Seven Kingdoms is from Lannister House, which means it would already be treason against the crown. On the other hand, if his sister's murderer has a dispute with someone else of a lower rank, nothing will happen, and if also at an event, there will be no problems in principle. In front of my eyes, to be exact.

I closed my eyes, and after a couple of seconds I looked at the guests waiting for my answer.

- "All right, I'll come to Dorne and try to cure your brother. Maybe even help with justice," I began, to which Oberyn and Ellaria sighed and smiled in relief, and Lina's cheerful mood returned, "But only after I've finished my business. Is that okay with you, Oberyn?"

- "Absolutely." Oberyn declared.

- "Very well, then." I nodded.

Well, now the to-do list has been updated with a visit to Dorne, ranking it after Artist, Kinvara, King's Landing, and Valyria. We'll see what comes out of it and how long it takes, and in the meantime we'll wait for Ms. Kirana's response. He won't be a problem, right?

-0-

A/N: How's the chapter? Give us your opinion. You may well be able to influence future chapters.
My P.a.t.r.e.o.n: P.a.t.r.e.o.n.c.o.m/mirzael
You'll be able to read more chapters there.

 

[ATP]

Baelish killed Arryn,not Lannisters.Or maybe....here,Lannisters did it?

 

[UndeadLord22]

Hmmmm, some hidden consequences will happen since he agreed to help, but I'm certain nothing that would stress him out too much...