Chapter 8 How swiftly Comes the Avalanche
Daenerys woke up when the light shining through the small porthole set into the side of the room hit her face. She smiled, stretching luxuriantly for a moment, then winced as the wound in her side twanged, causing her to remember the events of the night before. Ignoring her injury she sat up quickly in the bed in Ranma's room, looking around wildly.
She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the two draklings. The cream colored one, whom Daenerys thought she might call Sunfyre, after one of the most gorgeous dragons to ever live, was curled up on a pillow right by her head. It was awake and snuffling at her hair, but still seemed a somewhat torpid. Fenris was laid out next to the bed with the other drakling, the green scaled one, still asleep on his back.
Once certain her little ones were safe, Daenerys looked down at the bed, frowning a little wondering how she had been moved. She remembered falling asleep against the direwolf's side the evening before after talking with Domeric and Ranma for a time until the last of the adrenaline left her and she slept the sleep of the exhausted. With that thought Daenerys lifted the sheets to look at her body, breathing a sigh of relief again at seeing she was still clothed in the overlarge shirt Ranma had given her.
With the important matters out of the way, Daenerys could concentrate on how she was actually feeling. I feel good, by the gods that was one of my best nights rest ever! Is that because I was so tired, or that I feel safe now for some reason?
She frowned however as she noticed two large stew bowls piled up with the first one from the night before. A soft voice spoke up from near the door, answering her unspoken query. "After we put you to bed the two little ones woke up hungry once each. Kind of reminded me of when my younger siblings were babies. All they did was sleep, eat, and well, you know."
Ranma had set himself up right in the small entranceway by the doorway. It was cramped, but he had slept in worse conditions, and this way no one could enter the room without first waking him up. Domeric was curled up with a few spare blankets in a hammock hung rather haphazardly on the back wall. He was still asleep, while Ranma had woken up quickly when he heard Daenerys moving around. Now he stood up, cracking his neck explosively before he smiled at her.
The Targaryen princess smiled back at him, somewhat whimsically. "I don't have any experience with children so I wouldn't know, but going from my readings about them that it is normal for my little ones." She laughed as the cream colored one crawled up into her lap. Thankfully she wasn't getting any sense of it being hungry at present, merely inquisitive, exploring it's environment. "Were you ever put in charge of your siblings when they were younger?"
"Oh yes, several times, especially little Arya. You'd like her I think. She's a wild girl, much more at home with a blade in her hand then a needle or paintbrush." Ranma moved over to the bed, patting Fenris on the head in passing as he explained the deal he had made so many years ago with his mother about Arya, causing Daenerys to laugh at how stubborn the girl was. He went on more seriously. "I know even with all you shared about him, it could not have been easy to leave your older brother."
"It was actually much easier than you might think to take that last step. I think it was simply the culmination of things, too many negative feelings and conflict, too much abuse. He wasn't Viserys my brother anymore, the years of having to fend for ourselves and his burning ambition changed him, and not for the better." Daenerys sighed faintly.
Ranma nodded then looked down at the green scaled dragon, which had woken up and was now looking at the space between Fenris' back and the bed as if calculating the distance. Ranma helped it along, picking it up underneath it's belly when it tried to jump, placing it on the foot of the bed. The drakling made a halfhearted attempt to bite him, but once again Ranma's ki toughening technique was more than up to the task of stopping its teeth from penetrating, something the little creature realized after only a few seconds of useless chewing. "Do you have any plans on how to train these little ones? And have you thought up names?"
"This one is Sunfyre." Daenerys replied, rubbing the head of the cream colored drakling who trilled a little under her caress. She had read that dragons often acted out or were capricious, but right now, she didn't see it. "And I think that the green one I'll name Rhaegon." She watched Ranma closely when she said this, but Ranma merely smiled.
"That might bother other people lady, but I have no issue with you showing respect for your brother like that. Until he kidnapped Lyanna there hadn't been even a hint of Rhaegar falling to the Targaryen madness. I have heard people saying he was a fine man, and a fine knight."
Daenerys smiled at that then frowned as his response highlighted something she needed to do. "I have to apologize for my attitude last night Lord Stark." she said formally. "I realize that without you I would never have escaped, and I was remarkably suspicious despite that. Yet even so, I cannot get over my fear over what will happen to me when we arrived in King's landing."
"Nothing will happen to you milady," Ranma said simply smiling a little. "And I didn't take it personally. I didn't exactly catch you at yer best, y'know?"
That actually won a small chuckle from Daenerys, though she also flushed slightly remembering how she had been practically naked when Ranma first arrived. Not noticing her flushed cheeks, Ranma went on more seriously. "I won't let you out of my sight until the King guarantees your safety, and even then I doubt I'll let you go far without at least some of my family's armsmen with you. Frankly I don't want us to spend much time in King's Landing at all. Just enough time to check in with my father, tell the King what we can about your brother, the magister and their plans, then move on to White Harbor."
That caused Daenerys's eyes to narrow. "You are truly worried about what might be happening on the Wall, aren't you? I do not know much about these White Walkers, but if they are the same as in the old legends, would they not need to wait for Winter to truly begin before launching any assault?"
"That's true, but they can act through their undead agents before that. Besides, we can train the little ones in safety in the North, without having to watch every shadow for strangers armed with nasty toys. And I'm worried about what might be happening in Westeros while I'm gone milady, not just on the Wall. You told me that you had heard about the power struggle between my family and the lions, well that barely scratches the surface. I won't tell you everything, but suffice it to say that my leaving King's Landing to find you was good for you Daenerys, but it might be just as bad for the family members I left behind there."
"And you think your presence could have that much effect? You are a good warrior Ranma Stark, but that good?" Here Daenerys was fishing for information. She had seen how Ranma dispatched the magister's guards, and he certainly seemed to have an amazing set of physical skills, but was that the entirety, or was that just scratching the surface?
"My presence might have kept the political confrontations from boiling over into physical ones at least." Ranma said with a shrug. "I expect that you will see more of my abilities as we go on, so you won't have to fish for information, Danny." He grinned at her, and she shook her head wryly, raising a finger like a Braavosi water dancer signaling a touch.
There was a moment of silence as they both wondered where to take the conversation. Before either could decide the draklings began to make noises, and Daenerys realized that they were hungry again.
Ranma laughed. "Definitely like little babies, though they make more noise than most of my siblings. Rickon was a little noisemaker though, always whining and wailing unless we were paying attention to him, or crawling around and eating things he shouldn't. Though that could be laid at Bran's feet too." He moved over to grab up the bowls from the draklings earlier feedings. "I'll be right back, wake Domeric up and lock the door behind me would you?"
"You don't trust the crewmen?" Daenerys asked, her eyes narrowing.
"They're not beholden to my family or Lord Manderly. This ship was chosen 'cause it was going in the right direction and the Master of Whispers had previous dealings with the captain. Not a comforting thought, especially since I was attacked on our first night out. Fenris," Ranma nodded his head over to the giant direwolf "dealt with them, so I don't know what was behind it, but still. And besides…" Here Ranma looked a little uncomfortable as he went on. "They're sailors and they've been away at sea for the past few weeks, despite our little stop in Pentos."
Daenerys flushed a little when she got that implication but nodded firmly. When Ranma left closing the door behind him Daenerys, wincing as her injury was disturbed by the movement, got out of bed.
She moved over to Domeric and woke him up, before moving over to the doorway to lock it. Domeric winced in turn, his injured shoulder paining him severely despite the work Ranma had done on it the evening before. Still, he held his sword in his ready hand just in case.
Now that they were alone Daenerys asked him. "Can we trust this Ranma Stark? I realize he's helped us, and I think I can trust his word, but how much control of over our fates will he really have when we arrive in King's landing? Surely his father would side with the King?"
"Not about your welfare Lady." Domeric answered promptly. "If Ranma realizes what is going on in the far North, then his father surely does as well, and that young man was correct, dragon fire was one of the best weapons against the forces of winter, when they could be caught in the open at any rate. I could wish that more information of the White Walker's had survived, but I can't remember anything but they liked to attack at night."
He went on in less grim tones as he watched Daenerys stroke the drakling's heads with gentle fingers. "Of course your little babes will have to age until their scales can keep their warmth inside before we take them to the Wall, but Ranma will understand that as well as we will."
"We haven't heard a hint of this from any of ours our spies, have we?" Daenerys asked, still looking for problems, though she was rapidly coming to the opinion that Ranma had played it as straight as he could with her. "Why wouldn't the Starks tell the king about this?"
"Proof." Domeric shrugged. "Robert doesn't even believe in the Seven really. From what I remember he only believes what he can see or touch, and if they didn't have hard evidence then the Lannisters at least would never be willing to send men up to aid along the wall. And even now, I doubt any of the other nations will send anyone to combat the King Beyond the Wall. Not with Robert's position on the throne so tenuous, they'll want to secure their own positions first."
He smiled thinly. "If the King really did try to send assassins after you, I don't doubt that his relationship with the Lord Stark has already taken a major blow. Lord Stark would never condone such a thing nor will he condone any attack on you while you are under his House's protection."
Daenerys nodded, but was really of two minds about that. She wanted to be in a position to secure her own protection, but until her dragons grew up, and possibly not even then, that was impossible. Still, it was better than being at her brother's mercy, or having to marry some Dothraki barbarian from the plains. And Ranma's a rather handsome fellow said a small, oft ignored, portion of her mind.
She shrugged that thought off quickly. Ranma's looks was not what she was interested in, it was whether or not he really could protect her from her enemies in Westeros that mattered.
But that was part of the problem, she realized. She wanted to like Ranma. For some reason, be it his smile or his general manner Ranma was simply a likable fellow, and Daenerys hadn't really dealt with likable fellows other than Domeric for quite some time. All of her instincts were screaming that there had to be something underneath that, yet she could detect no hint of it.
Daenerys decided to put it aside for now. The voyage to and from Westeros usually took two and a half weeks, depending on weather, so she had plenty of time to get to know Ranma, and to decide if he really could back up his claims. What Daenerys could do if she decided he couldn't however was a depressingly short list, nigh on empty really.
At her request Domeric exited the room, standing guard outside while she got dressed. Thankfully Fenris was able to watch the younglings as she did, and they were busy crawling around the room under his watchful eye. She wondered idly if there had been interactions between dragons and direwolves before that were this amicable, then simply enjoyed watching her little ones crawl around.
Their little wings seemed to be giving them issues, but they would work it out in time she was sure. Their ancestors have been doing it for millennia after all, she thought then frowned a little. Where did the magister find their eggs anyway? I doubt they were from my family, so where'd the eggs come from?
Her eyes close in pain as she remembered having to leave the third egg behind. No doubt her brother had already begun bonding with the dragon within. That will cause trouble in the future, I do not doubt. Though I wonder how they will get on together. My brother doesn't exactly have a caring personality, or much patience...
She shook that thought off, then picked up the knife that Domeric had left in the room for her, one of several from his collection. It was a stiletto, a thin blade about as long as her two fists put together with an equally small handle. She wondered where she should put it, then frowned looking at the remains of her skirt.
Daenerys was measuring the knife against her inner thigh, wondering if she should put it there when voice from behind her said "That is an idiotic place for a knife of that size. You'd never get at it quick enough if you wear a skirt, and you can't exactly hide it there if you wear leggings, unless they're really baggy, and you'd still be unable to get to it quick."
Daenerys turned quickly, cursing her beating heart which was pounding in her chest at the sudden shock, while the two dragons looked up from where they had been playing. To her chagrin however they were not responding to her sudden moment of distress, but the smell of the meat that Ranma, who was the one who had spoken, was holding in a large stew bowl.
He set it down in front of the little dragons, then turned to her with a smirk. "You should have remembered to lock the door after Domeric stepped out. I have some leggings if you wish to wear those instead of that skirt lady, I'm afraid it looks rather on its last legs."
Daenerys scowled a little realizing he was mocking her, but after a moment the scowl disappeared when she realized he wasn't doing it maliciously. "Where would you put the knife then? And yes, I think leggings would be best."
"That's not the kind of dagger you want to use as a holdout, it's too large, though the blade looks a good choice. It could be used even against someone in chain mail and could penetrate boiled leather easily enough if you're strong enough." Ranma said moving over to his sea chest. He pulled out a spare set of leggings tossing them over to Daenerys. "We'll probably have to take them in at the waist, but for now they'll do."
Daenerys held them up to her legs critically. "Length too. I am a bit shorter than you after all." Actually she was about two feet shorter, she was short for a woman and Ranma was somewhat tall for a man.
She looked up at a flash of white and reflexively caught the shirt Ranma just threw at her. "That's actually clean, I bet the shirt you're wearing still has the smell of smoke on it."
He looked over the draklings as they were trying to tip over the stew pot to get at the meat inside, smiling faintly. "I'll wait outside, knock on the door when you're done."
He came back in a moment later when she had finished, and showed her how to wear the knife all along her side, hidden slightly under the shirt but not so much as to be a true holdout dagger. Then he reached for his own belt buckle and pulled out from behind it a very tiny punch dagger almost palm sized but very sharp looking.
When Ranma passed it over to her, Daenerys noticed there was a very small loop at the end of the blade for her fingers, showing it was supposed to be held by two of her fingers rather than held in her hand,. "This is what a real holdout dagger should be like, small, very sharp, easy to hide. You can have this one. I think every lady should have one really, though where to put it on when you're wearing a dress without a belt, that I'll leave up to you."
Ranma smirked. "I even got my sister Sansa to agree to wear one, though I don't know if she still is. I hope she is, but…" shrugged.
I take it your other sister Arya didn't have to be talked into it? Did she complain it was too small?" Daenerys quipped.
"Yes actually." Ranma laughed, helping her to tuck the dagger under the belt buckle. The belt was now cinched tight as it could go, and the leggings were very still loose on Daenerys, while the shirt was quite tight. Something Ranma did not notice at all… "If Arya had her way she probably would clank whenever she moved."
Daenerys laughed again, and Ranma looked up at her face from where he had been finishing with her belt, only just now realizing how close their faces were. From Daenerys's startled expression she had just realized it too, and for a moment blue and purple eyes stared at one another from less than a few inches. Ranma moved back quickly then proceeded to tell Daenerys a story about Arya from when she began her training.
Shaking her head momentarily to get rid of that moment Daenerys moved over to the drakling. She gathered Sunfyre into her lap, reaching forward to pick out one of the pieces of meat from the pot, holding it up above his head with her other hand. Rhaegon pulled himself into her lap, making Daenerys grateful she had put on the leggings already.
Finishing his tale, Ranma looked at the two draklings, who were now eagerly taking the meat from both of Daenerys' hands. "Speaking of training, what are you going to do with those two?"
"I read every book I could get my hands on about dragons when I was younger, they were part of my heritage after all." Daenerys said flicking Rhaegon on the nose when it tried to take a bite out of the chunk she was holding out for Sunfyre. "None of that." she scolded. The suitably cowed drakling subsided, waiting its turn. "They are supposed to become as intelligent as animals can be later on, but we have to start imprinting with them now hence why I'm handling them like this."
Ranma hummed thoughtfully scratching at his ponytail for a moment. "Would you care for some advice?" He nodded over to Fenris who was watching the proceedings with an amused air, if Daenerys was guessing his expression correctly. The direwolf had an almost human ability to get his opinions across even without words, and a very wide range of expressions.
"I don't think there's much parallel there other than both species being predators." Daenerys said frowning for a moment as she turned her head to look at the dire wolf. "Exactly how intelligent is Fenris?"
Fenris huffed irritably, never liking being spoken about as if he wasn't there though he understood the upside to that as well. Feeling his irritation through their link, Ranma smirked. "Quite a bit more intelligent than most people think. Can I ask you to try something?"
Daenerys's eyebrows rose and she nodded her head slowly.
"Close your eyes, and…" Ranma pause thinking of how to explain this to someone who hadn't heard old Nan's ghost stories. "Think of one of the dragons, imagine it in your mind, then… sort of see if you can feel what it's feeling…"
Daenerys opened her eyes to look at him quizzically. "What exactly am I trying to do here?"
"You'll understand if you can get it, I'll explain after."
"I'll hold you to that." Daenerys said feeling rather fully should the moment. She could get some impressions of the dragons, but surely that was simply her projecting onto them, not a reality.
Still, Daenerys closed her eyes and did as requested. She concentrated on the Dragon she had named after her brother, Rhaegon, since he seemed to be a little more inquisitive than the other one. She got some feelings of hunger, muted somewhat now, and something else…
"Anticipation?" She said aloud looking over to the drakling who had rounded Fenris and was now about to leap onto the wolf's tale. Fenris however was well aware of the drakling's intention, and moved his tail quickly out of the way before flicking it back to smack the drakling in the face.
Rhaegon let out a squawk, then a huff of air as he tried to pounce again. Now Daenerys was getting feelings of enjoyment and pleasure. With a startled oath, she pulled her consciousness away. "Wh-what is going on?" she asked, stammering.
None of the books I read said anything about being able to feel a dragon's emotions! A few written by members of her own House had hinted at being able to understand their dragons, but there was a vast difference between that and being able to feel their emotions.
"That's what I was wondering." Ranma said nodding. "Have you ever heard of warging?" When she answered in the negative he explained what a warg was then said "I had wondered since I'd heard about the dragons of your family if that was one of their secrets. From what I remember from my history from old Valyria they couldn't use their dragons as well as your family could, and there were several riders that controlled their dragons like I'd expect a warg to be able to in the Dance of the Dragons war."
During his explanation Daenerys had gotten over her shock and was now on to more practical matters. "So this will help me train them quite a lot I would assume, how intelligent can they become with this connection between us?"
Ranma shrugged. "I don't know. Fenris is obviously much more intelligent than most of his breed, no offense Fenris." he said looking over the wolf who looked only a little mollified at that before he put his head down again to stare at where Rhaegon was still trying to pounce on his tail. Hunters these two were not, but they were young yet and could learn. "Whether that will be the case for dragons you'll have to discover, but I don't see any reason why they couldn't become just as intelligent in time."
"Again you have helped me Ranma Stark, thank you." Daenerys said smiling up at him happily. "Do you have any specific ideas for their training?"
"Well," Ranma laughed as Sunfyre scrambled up Daenerys's side to perch on one of her shoulders, hitting her in the face with a furled wing in the process. "First, we'll want to find a leather jerkin for you rather than my silk shirt. And I'd try to not let them get into the habit of doing that. Eventually they'll be much too large, and you don't want them trying it after they can nearly crush you under their weight."
He looked out through the porthole at the sun which was high in the sky by this point. "Let's go above, your draklings might like a chance to explore a larger area, and being cooped up in here can't be good for them or you. You still need some sun." He knelt down reaching out to touch the little mark on her above one eye that her brother had left her with a gentle finger. "You could use some sun too, though it won't do anything for that, I'm sorry to say. Pity I couldn't stay long enough to introduce your brother to my boot."
"I'd have liked to see that too." Daenerys murmured, shivering slightly under his touch. When he pulled back she grasped his hand and was pulled to her feet with Sunfyre still on her shoulder. Rhaegon clambered up on Fenris' back before the giant wolf stood up, following his master and the Dragon Lady.
The princess squinted as they came out onto the deck, noticing with amusement that most of the work around the deck had stopped as they came up, and nearly every sailor in sight was staring at her and her dragons. Domeric had followed them and noticing the same thing smiled faintly. "The shock value of my little ones is quite immense." she quipped, nodding over at Ranma. "They might eventually beat out your direwolf in that area."
"In a few years maybe." Ranma laughed, leading them along the deck. They moved to the back of the ship, where Sunfyre scrambled down from Daenerys's shoulder then down her leg to peer out through the railings down and the ocean.
"He won't try to jump will he?" Daenerys asked reaching forward for the little drakling.
"Call it milady," Ranma said touching her shoulder gently. "It's a perfect time to try out your ability to connect with them. Warn them away from the edge, send to them feelings of danger connected with the railing."
Daenerys looked over at him and Ranma smiled encouragingly. With a deep breath Daenerys reached out through her connection to the draklings, warning them, trying to tell them that the edge of the railing was dangerous. To her shock it seemed to work as both of them backed away slightly though they also seemed fascinated by the moving water far below.
Or Sunfyre did at any rate. Rhaegon lost interest after a few moments, and went back to Fenris. Realizing what the cub wanted, Fenris lazily began to move one of his front paws around. The drakling tried to pounce on it, a seeming smile on his tiny reptilian face as he made happy sounding warbling noises.
Daenerys laughed gaily, looking at both of them and pushing out a wave of affection, that was the only way she could describe it, towards the two draklings who both looked up at her before going back to what they had been doing. "I always hated reading about how dragons had to be chained down even when they were young. Growing up I realized it was simple fancy to think the chains weren't needed, but look! No chains necessary now!" Daenerys laughed again shaking her head.
She looked up however at Ranma who sat across from her leaning against Fenris's side as she was the railing, a sudden fear filling her. "Do you think you could reach out to them?"
"Maybe." Ranma said with a shrug. "I won't try without your permission of course. And I doubt I could get as much out of them as you could. They imprinted on you after all, and I already have Fenris."
"Well technically, they imprinted on me and Fenris." Daenerys laughed a relieved.
"How does it feel to be a mommy Fenris?" Ranma asked amused.
Daenerys laughed again when Fenris smacked him in the head with his fluffy tail. He turned back to Daenerys. "Now, in terms of specific training…"
That conversation went on for a while, the two of them exchanging ideas, with Daenerys gobbling up every idea she could about training from Ranma, though some of the specific training exercises wouldn't work. Yet by the end of the conversation Daenerys had a very good idea how she would be training her draklings.
From there the conversation segued into amusing moments from Ranma's own training with Fenris, as well as his own personal training and childhood. Daenerys replied with her own stories, of when she was younger and later on. When her stories turned darker Ranma replied with his own, telling Daenerys about when he met Domeric from his own point of view. They sat there throughout the rest of the day, simply getting to know one another, not even noticing the passage of time until the dragons began to whine once more for their dinner.
OOOOOOO
In King's Landing Ranma's father sighed faintly, putting his signature on yet another piece of paper the king really should have been taking care of. But given their relationship at present, Eddard couldn't really say that he was unsurprised that Robert had removed himself still further from the actual running of the kingdom. After Tyene's execution Robert and Eddard had once more fallen into frosty neutrality rather than the easy friendship they had once enjoyed.
Ned was firmly of the opinion that someone else had killed Tommen, that Tyene had no motive whatsoever to do it, and that she should not have been executed so quickly. He understood why the Queen had pushed for it, it was obvious a mother's grief had destroyed the queen's common sense. But Robert should've been able to keep his emotional distance. Finding who was really behind the plot was more important than persecuting the red herring, as Ned thought Tyene had been.
That didn't even take into consideration of how Dorne was going to react once they heard. Prince Doran might not be willing to do anything for the murder, and that was how those in Dorne would see it, of a bastard girl-child. Oberyn, the girl's father, was the leader of their armies, and if he reacted badly, the results could be another war even if Doran tried to do nothing.
But Robert didn't want to hear it, and Tyene had been put to death. Compounding matters further, after Tommen's death Robert had fallen into even worse drinking and whoring habits than before. Now he was barely in the keep at all for one day of every seven, spending his time hunting and whoring, away from responsibility and duty and trying to mitigate the damage the execution would do to their relationship with Dorne once Prince Doran received word of it. This had put the final nail in the coffin of Ned and Robert's friendship.
While their reactions differed, both royals had retreated entirely from the running of the kingdom, which, much as Ned wanted to say otherwise, was more surprising in the queen than the king. Cersei had slipped into a deep depression. She no longer took part in the Small Council, a pity considering that when Cersei spoke she had some good ideas. Nor did she take part in the court itself any longer, retreating entirely from her public persona. Cersei wore the black of mourning even now a week and a half later, with only a circlet of red and gold brocade to denote her family allegiance.
That dress had actually been made for Cersei by Sansa, who also wore more somber clothing these days. The two of them had become somewhat close since Tommen's death, with the queen almost leaning on Sansa as a friend in her time of grief. And to Ned's disgust, Joffrey and Sansa had become even closer. In fact he'd had to speak to Sansa rather sharply a few times about being seen with Joffrey without a chaperone other than one of the Kingsguard.
Myrcella too was grieving her younger brother's death. She had practically moved into the tower, bunking in Ranma's room. Yet for some reason Ned thought there might be more to it than merely wanting to be in a place where she had only happy memories of her brother like the Tower. No, there was something else there but he couldn't put his finger on it.
Still, Ned was happy to add her to the tower's security, which he had tightened after Tommen's death, no servants save those brought down from Winterfell were allowed in anymore, not even under guard. The Tower's foodstuffs were also under 24/7 security.
In the court, reactions from both the death of Tyene and murder of Tommen were extremely varied, though none of them were good for Eddard or his people. There was a portion of the court that was as sad as Ned and the two royals, having seen the possibility of Tommen being named as heir over Joffrey as an extremely good thing in the long run. Now they were very worried, but not enough to join forces with the Starks. Many of them had simply left the city entirely, which weakened House Stark's position in King's Landing.
Others in the court seemed to be of the opinion that the poison had been meant for Joffrey, though where that rumor came from Ned didn't know, much like the idea he was an ineffective Hand. This group seemed to think that it was a prelude to open war pitting the Targaryens and their Dornish allies against the rest of Westeros, an idea that had no basis in reality as far as Ned could see. But that didn't seem to matter much to the courtiers who believed it. Worse, all of them felt that Eddard was simply unwilling to do what needed to be done to protect the peace of the realm.
There was a third faction, small but vitriolic in assaulting Eddard for allowing Tyene access to the Red Keep, pointing the finger at him saying it had been simply part of a plot to gain him the throne. This group had no evidence or even logic on their side, yet that didn't seem to matter to them.
A fourth faction, the queen's, had rallied around her in her grief, and hatred of the king for how he was 'handling' his own grief made them almost rabidly anti-Baratheon. Joffrey was often connected to this faction, yet had come off as more of a moderating influence between all the different cliques, the boy showing himself in as good a light as he could. This wasn't all that good for those who knew him, but many of the courtiers were unable to look beyond his public persona to see if there was any depth there.
Renly had lost much of his own backers to the first two camps, and now was almost as isolated as Ned, and Renly knew it. Loras' recent arrival with thirty armsmen had been a godsend for him, bolstering his security force by half again.
Eddard sighed, stretching his muscles thinking hard, wondering who really had been behind Tommen's murder, and what their next moves would be. If they had wanted to disorganize the court further, they should have followed up with something other than these rumors. Rumors will die down, and grief will fade, their window of opportunity to capitalize on Tommen's death is disappearing. Unless it was really to put someone close to Joffrey in order to influence him, as the queen thought, Robert's belief this was done to somehow help Dorne's princess to marry Joffrey is so much hot air. But who could it be?
Enough for now, Eddard thought, standing up from his desk. Time to get some exercise.
OOOOOOO
Unbeknownst to Eddard, Petyr, Varys and Pyrcelle were the sources of many of his present problems. Varys had decided the Starks no longer represented long term stability in the kingdom and had subtly spread around the idea that Ned should be held accountable for what had occurred to Tommen. Not because he was connected to the actual murder, that would never stick given how everyone knew how honorable Lord Stark was and he had no clear motive. But Eddard could be painted as too trusting to be an effective Hand because he had allowed Tyene, a mistress of poisons, to have access to the keep.
For his part, Pyrcelle was fanning the flames Eddard's campaign against corruption had brought him, while also keeping the court faction that wanted to pin him as the mind behind Tommen's death boiling nicely. That was difficult since anyone with half a brain could see it was simply untrue. Still, he had gathered eleven other noble houses to the Lannister cause, adding another hundred and fifty men and fifteen knights to their forces, which would be useful when the conflict became open warfare.
Outside the court, Petyr was readying his mercenaries. That was difficult, considering how spread out through the city they were, and how many contacts Brynden had made in the city. The clandestine warfare had heated up in the back alleys, with Petyr's, Brynden's, House Lannister's and agents of the Master of Whispers ambushing one another nightly. Bodies were beginning to be found even in the richer districts.
Surprising Pyrcelle, Varys and Petyr, Ned had done a good enough job in clearing out the corruption of the Gold Cloaks that many of them had begun to actually work to keep the peace rather than keeping the smallfolk down. They were keeping the violence from boiling over into the daytime, but everyone with a working brain could tell that someone was moving against the Starks. No one could prove it yet, but it was there and everyone was walking on tenterhooks.
Alayaya was no exception to this rule. She rarely left her mother's brothel now, even to meet her friends. Instead she asked them to come see her, not wanting to be out on the streets. She had heard a rumor that someone had realized she was passing information on to the Hand, and with the city the way it was right now that was almost a certain death sentence unless you had men to protect you, which she didn't.
Today however she had been forced to head out, accompanied by one of the brothel's guards. One of her friends had some information she wanted to pass on, and the importance of that information had forced Alayaya out to meet with her when the friend couldn't get away from work. This way was saying she was a veritable slave to her pimp, but at least the man in question treated her reasonably well despite not letting her go anywhere without him.
The information was worth it though. It turned out that the whore in question worked in a whorehouse where two suspicious men with Lannisport accents frequented. One of them had a very expensive crossbow that he never let out of his sight, and was now wearing the colors of Master Pyrcelle. The other had begun to show up wearing the tabard of a gold cloak. The men had no obvious connection, but they always made time to talk after doing their business with the house, and always arrived at nearly the same time.
Dixie, Alayaya's friend, had gone even further. She was able to give the Summer Islands girl a description of the one who was now working with the Grand Master. This made the trip to see her a very profitable one, yet very dangerous as Alayaya found out on the way back to her brother's establishment.
The black woman had been walking along, her guard at her side when she looked up, frowning as she noticed that the guard had stopped. Looking forward Alayaya saw two men step out of an alleyway, barring their path, both wielding heavy cudgels, the crowd flowing naturally around them. She backed away quickly putting two houses between them when she realized they were looking at her over the heads of several other people, while all around them the crowd began to fade away quickly.
She looked up over at her guard, one of the six bouncers that her mother employed, only to see him backing away his hands held up non-threateningly.
Before Alayaya could process this sudden betrayal, two more men appeared behind her, gleams of steel in their hands. She looked around wildly, trying to see a way out of this. The courtesan was about to bolt towards a nearby alleyway, not really having any hope of reaching it before she was caught when there was a shout from the end of the street. "Ho there!"
The men turned, seeing seven men in Riverrun colors hurrying towards them, swords out. One of the men with knives reached for Alayaya even so, but she ducked underneath his arm, racing towards the newcomers. The two knife wilders tried to catch up to her, but six more men from Riverrun came out of another alleyway nearby cutting them off and cutting them down before they could retreat.
The bouncer and the two men with cudgels gave one look at this reversal of fortune and legged it away through the nearest alleyways. The men of Riverrun did not pursue.
Alayaya gasped, going to her knees as the nearness of her escape hit her in front of the men from Riverrun. "Th-thank you all! If you hadn't arrived when you did I…"
"Lord Blackfish sent us um, lady." said the one hesitating on the 'lady' part there. He knew Alayaya's profession after all. But still the information she had passed on had been of immense value, and Brynden wasn't one to let those who helped him and his family die if he could help it. "We received word from one of our other agents that you were going to be attacked. I'm afraid it might not be wise for you to return to your mother's… establishment.."
"Seeing they bought one of our bouncers, I agree. I'll send her a message, if that is alright, but where will do you think I should go instead?"
"We have orders to take you to the Hand's Tower lady, you can work as a servant there to pay your way for now."
Alayaya frowned, not having much training in that area but she supposed she could cook at least, or wait on one of the other ladies. That wouldn't take much training after all, since she knew about fashion at least and could sew very well. But it would remove her from most of her own contacts throughout the city, and from where she learned most of her information at her mother's whorehouse. Still, Alayaya thought philosophically, I'll be safe there, and maybe I can get to the bottom of a minor mystery of my own. Who exactly is the Rock Hurler?
Alayaya found herself being escorted directly to the Tower in the Red Keep, not even pausing in the outer areas of the keep. She was ushered immediately up through the castle to what she was told was the family area.
There she didn't find Lord Stark or even Lord Tully waiting for her, but a young blonde-haired girl who looked like she had been crying hard for many days pouring over a book. "Are you all right?"" she asked immediately looking at the young girl. Crying was something all whores did on many occasions, and they were always helpful to one another in times of distress, the good ones at least.
Myrcella looked up from her book startled by the unknown voice invading this safe area, and frowned as she saw the black woman and the clothing she was wearing. The princess easily recognized what this woman was, and her presence in the Tower angered her. Yet the expression on the black woman's face was merely concerned, so she answered the question calmly enough. "I'm well I suppose, simply dealing with my grief at my brother's passing if you must know."
Across from her Alayaya gasped, finally realizing who this young girl was and kicking herself mentally. The clothing should've given you a clue you idiot. She curtsied quickly, showing all the poise and control that her mother had drilled into her as one of her highest earners. "I apologize for not recognizing you at once your grace, you have my sincere condolences about the death of your younger brother."
"Thank you." Merry said rather stiffly, looking at her then up at the men from Winterfell who had escorted her up the Tower. "Might I ask why she is here?"
They exchanged glances but Alayaya answered first. "I'm one of the Hand's informers in the city. Unfortunately, someone else found out about me, and I only escaped with my life thanks to Lord Blackfish sending some of his men to help me."
"I'm just glad they got there in time." said Brynden, coming out from the Hands office with Eddard. "The information you've passed on to us as always been good. I only regret the fact they found you out will prevent you from passing along more."
"I was able to find out something right before the attack came my Lord." Alayaya said quickly, curtsying deeply to both men then glanced over at Myrcella. Ned understood the glance and waved her into the office.
Behind them Myrcella stood staring at the closed door with a scowl on her face. "If you keep on scowling like that your face will stick in that position you know." Brynden said smiling faintly at the young girl. Though at 12, and having had her first cycle a few weeks ago, she was now technically a woman, able to be wed. Still, to Brynden at least she was just a young girl.
Myrcella huffed a little, but didn't bother to take any umbrage at the older man's familiarity. He was much like Ranma in that area, the more he knew someone the more familiar he was with them. "I can't say I approve of her profession." she said coldly.
"Nor should you." Brynden said smiling faintly. "I imagine that your father being the way he is that reaction is even more understandable. However you shouldn't hold her profession against her. Alayaya's mother was a whore before becoming the mistress of her own whorehouse, you could say Alayaya was born into it. And with what little interaction with her I've had, I've discovered that there is a very gentle, true soul underneath that exterior."
Myrcella huffed again but nodded. "I'll try not to hold it against her."
"Are you returning to the holdfast tonight milady?" Brynden asked, changing the subject, watching Myrcella's face closely.
Myrcella shook her head violently. "No, I would rather stay here. Am I… am I imposing?"
"Not to me." Brynden said looking at her with that keen gaze of his, causing Myrcella to look away. "I'm just curious. You're here even more often than Sansa these days, and many times when she is not here to spend time with you."
"I feel safer here." Myrcella replied shortly, hoping Brynden would simply drop the subject. It wasn't as if she could prove her beliefs after all.
"I can understand that, but why would you feel not safe in the holdfast? According to your mother at least the poisoner has already been found, and I know that Grandmaster Pyrcelle has ordered his acolytes to okay every dish the comes out of the kitchens."
"I don't have an opinion on my mother's belief in Tyene's guilt, and even if she's right, the mind behind it is still out there. Who knows what else they might be able to do, if poison is no longer a weapon they can use." Myrcella said getting up quickly. "Now if you'll excuse me Lord Tully, I wish to go see if Sansa is free."
By free she meant no longer waiting on Joffrey, but that wasn't something Brynden would call her on. He exchanged glances with Ser Oakheart who had remained in the corner since Myrcella had arrived earlier that afternoon. The Kingsguard member returned Brenden's glance blandly, not giving any hint of his own thoughts as was proper. He bowed his head slightly been moved to followed Merry down the stairs.
With a sigh, Brynden moved to join Ned in his office.
OOOOOOO
Unfortunately for Myrcella, Sansa was still with Joffrey in one of the sitting areas of the holdfast working on a painting as he told her about some of the royal family's holdings in the crownlands. Even more unfortunately for the golden haired princess, she couldn't then bow back out graciously when Sansa asked her to join them, not having a readymade excuse. She was forced to stay and listen to Sansa simper at her brother for the next hour. Really, I do love Sansa, but it's as if being around Joffrey destroys her ability to think clearly.
Her own problem with her brother of course wasn't based on gushy feelings. She watched him constantly, looking for any sign of his vicious streak coming out, but with Sansa around there was no sign of it. Yet even being in his presence like this was making that moment when she saw his smile burn in her mind. For the first time in her life she was feeling the sort of Baratheon fury that her father had shown a time or two, or perhaps her mother's lioness like rage. So when Sansa excused herself to prepare for lunch, with septa Mordane following, Myrcella couldn't stop herself from blurting out. "You killed our brother didn't you?"
Joffrey looked at Myrcella in surprise. "I have no idea what you're talking about, dear sister."
"I saw that smirk on your face when Tommy was lying there, dying." Myrcella said, finding courage somewhere inside to confront her tormenter, her fists shaking in fury. "You were happy! You somehow knew that he was going to be named heir over you, and you couldn't stand it, could you!"
That touched a nerve and Joffrey's mask fell away as if it had never been. "I am the heir!" he shouted, no shrieked, standing up and stalking over to her. "The crown is mine! Mine by right! I am the eldest, it falls to me! Tommy had no right to it!"
"And so you poisoned him." Myrcella growled, sounding like the lion of her mother's family banner, standing up as well.
"Ah, but there's no proof of that, Myrcella." Said Joffrey now close enough. His hand lashed out, catching Myrcella by the throat and almost lifting her off the floor. "And I would keep that close to your heart if I were you." He breathed pulling her close so he could whisper in her ear. Merry tried to fight back, but she was no Tommy, she hadn't trained and lacked the strength to push him away. "If I can kill one sibling, what makes you think I would balk at two?"
Myrcella spat in his eye, rage still overriding her fear despite the hand around her throat.
Her older brother raised his free hand to wipe away the spit from his eye, then raised it again in a fist.
A knock on the door behind him however halted that, and the door opened to reveal Ser Oakheart. Joffrey quickly moved away from his sister. "Such accusations," he said coolly now. "Are dangerous, you'd best to remember that." With a final sneer at his sister, Joffrey stalked out.
OOOOOOO
"I disagree," Ranma said, smiling slightly across at Daenerys while she tossed a small chunk of wood rounded to look like a ball toward the two draklings, then commanded Sunfyre mentally to go and get it before passing it to Rhaegon. "I think your ancestor's decision to create the position of the Hand was one of the things that weakened the royal family. It created an almost separate power structure. While technically answering to the king, the Hand truly wielded more power when the king wasn't strong enough to take it back."
"That's nonsense." Daenerys scoffed, waving one hand. "All power resides in the King, that's the entire point of a monarchy. The position of Hand was simply there to well…" she blushed. "Shovel the shit."
"Power might come from the king, but power is not the same as responsibility. One of the things that has bothered me the most since coming south was how little work the King actually did. I watched my father going gray from the moment we set foot in King's Landing. And if the king it is not responsible for anything, what kind of King is he really? How many poor Kings have there been, because they didn't have any understanding of power meaning great responsibility?"
Daenerys paused before replying, smiling at Rhaegon who had just trotted up with the little ball Domeric had made them. The draklings loved the games that she had developed for them, and they were becoming better and better at responding to her mental commands. For more serious ones she still had to verbally command them however.
For instance, she had to stop them from attacking one of the sailors who had rather stupidly come into the room to stare at them. Or her, his babblings afterwords were not exactly coherent. They responded best to Valyrian commands of course, though the reasoning behind that wasn't one she understood, since they certainly couldn't have ever heard the language before. But it was good from her perspective considering she couldn't accidentally give them a command in common conversation while around them.
That would be… bad. Despite the fact that Ranma seemed immune to their bites, the dragons showed all of the normal irritation at non-Targaryen Dynasty members that always marked the breed. They had stopped trying to bite Ranma, but Domeric still had to be wary around them. Yet even so, Sunfyre and Rhaegon were much more docile then young dragons normally were, at least according to the books Daenerys had read. Not once had Daenerys had any inclination to chain them up, which had been of course the norm for millennia.
After throwing the ball again, this time over to Fenris to bat around for the two youngsters, she turned her attention back to her and Ranma's conversation, frowning thoughtfully. "I'll concede that the Hand concept was flawed. It needed to have severe checks on its power, especially since the Hand often came from powerful families on their own. The Crownlands alone can't raise an army the equal of even the Stormlands, and its economy isn't as rich as Westerlands, nor as robust as the Reach."
She paused thoughtfully, looking at the two draklings. "I think that was a major issue after the dragons disappeared, without them my family didn't have enough power in themselves, which forced them to woo already existing power structures. Still, even taking away physical force, the king definitely needs to have a set of duties that only he, or she" She smiled, thinly, yet whimsically, making Ranma's lips twitch in turn. "Can perform, certain powers that only the king can use."
"Okay," Ranma said agreeably, "Like what?"