[301 AC – King's Landing]
"I- … I … ", Arya stammered, hard pressed to find an answer to Phenex' words. She knew that the man was right in that she had never met the Red God personally and knew basically nothing about him.
"H-he freed the slaves in Essos. And saved the people of King's Landing from Renly Baratheon's army.", the girl stated with gritted teeth, "Someone who does that must be good!"
Sighing audibly, Phenex looked at the aspiring Feather with something akin to pity, as he slowly rose from his seat and answered: "I see now that you have not the slightest understanding about what it means to be a Feather, neither do you have any idea about the Red God and his faith."
"And you do?", Arya inquired curtly, anger in her eyes.
"I do.", Phenex replied calmly as he turned to leave the quarters of the girl, though her next words caused him to pause in his steps.
"Then tell me!", the girl demanded.
"A bird can have many feathers, but every feather will only ever be attached to one bird in its lifetime. Not to mention that there is no closer bond than the one between a bird and his coat of feathers.", Phenex voiced out quietly without turning around, "Without them, he might still be a bird, but would he ever fly and soar?"
"Loyalty. Affection. Respect. It goes both ways." he whispered finally, before leaving the room without another word.
…
[301 AC – Dragonstone]
Tenderly brushing over Allyria's little head and back with his large hand, while she slept in his arms, Phenex had a soft look in his eyes as he quietly addressed Rhaella, who was sitting in the bed with her back resting against the headboard, looking at him with loving eyes.
They had just spent the last few hours in an intimate embrace before their daughter had woken from her sleep and interrupted them, which was why the Targaryen lady wore nothing but a thin robe covering her enchanting curves, while her cheeks were still somewhat rosy and a light sheen of sweat lay over her skin, making it glisten in the moonlight that fell through the large window.
"The first time I came into contact with the Red Temple, I had no real goal, nor did I really care what would happen to them or anyone else in this world.", Phenex voiced out with a wry smile, wearing a thin tunic and pants he had conjured with his magic, as he sat down at her side with their daughter safely cradled in his strong arms.
"I had no attachments in this world besides my mother and knew that everything I could ever want was in arm's reach with the power I possessed.", he continued, as a look of surprise settled on Rhaella's face.
She had seldom heard her love talk about the world around him from his perspective and she did sometimes wonder what it felt like for him to live in a world that was so fragile in comparison to his existence.
"It was only years later and especially after my mother's death that I found a new home in the temple and started to truly care about its development. It was at that point that I started to crave to create something great, to leave something of value behind."
Feeling Allyria's little hand grab his tunic in her sleep, while she buried her face deeper in his embrace, a tender smile settled on his face.
"But it is only thanks to you and our daughter, my love, that I understand what that truly means.", Phenex continued, his loving gaze still fixed on the small girl in his arms, "She will forever be my greatest accomplishment."
Looking up, Phenex grabbed Rhaella's hand and pressed a gentle kiss in her palm, before placing her hand against his cheek, while she herself moved onto her knees and leaned forward. Connecting her lips with his, tears brimmed in Rhaella's beautiful eyes.
"I love you.", she whispered, as she sat herself beside Phenex and rested her head on his shoulder, soaking up his warmth and strength.
…
[301 AC - Winterfell]
"Is what you said the truth?", Robb questioned heavily, as he stared at the Night's Watch member standing before him in the great hall, his pregnant wife and sister sitting to his left, while his little brothers sat on his other side, along with the old Maester Luwin.
The Maester though looked somewhat haggard, his health definitely affected by the events that had transpired in the South, specifically the Citadel, which no longer existed as such.
The old Maester did have resentment for the temple in his heart, though he would never act on it, as he was very clear on the consequences for such. Not to mention that he was well aware of the schemes the Archmaesters and council members of the Citadel had tried to implement in their attempt to weaken the temple.
His loyalty, in contrast to many other Maesters, also lay with House Stark first and the Citadel second, so his foremost priority was to advise and serve the Lord of House Stark, who was also the King of the North and King of the Trident now and needed a loyal adviser now more than ever. The same was true for Robb's wife, as the old Maester would not dare to hold a grudge against his Queen.
The rest of the Hall was mostly filled with several long tables on which sat Lords, representatives, and heirs of other Northern Houses, while one table near the front was occupied by Jaehaerys, Thoros, and two other low-ranking priests, along with half-a-dozen warriors of the Fiery Hand, who had been sent by Phenex to Winterfell, along with the traveling party that had taken Sansa back North.
Thoros had a great reputation even in the North thanks to his performance during the Greyjoy Rebellion, which was still burned into the memory of all those that had been present for the battle. As such he was fit to act as an ambassador between the temple and the Northern Kingdom, something Jaehaerys could not do alone, as he simply lacked the experience in matters of politics necessary for such.
Jaehaerys knew this himself and was glad for Thoros' presence as the older priest was never one to hold back in giving advice, while also being one of the few warriors that could match him in a spar.
"Yes, Your Grace.", the messenger from the Wall, clad in all-black, replied with destitute eyes, "Only a hundred and fifty men are left at Castle Black. If there is an attack by the wildlings, if they try and take the Wall, we will not be able to stop them."
Silence filled the room, as the Northern Lords learned of what happened at the Fist of the First Men after the former Lord Commander, Jeor Mormont, had pulled nearly all the forces from the three remaining castles to launch an attack on the wildling army to prevent them from uniting under Mance Rayder.
"What about our uncle, Benjen Stark?", Sansa questioned into the silence, her melodious voice drawing the attention of everyone present, though she remained firm under those gazes, having experienced way worse in King's Landing.
Jaehaerys likewise looked at her, locking eyes with the Northern princess for a seemingly endless moment, before his gaze was drawn towards a younger man a few tables away, his magically enhanced senses having picked up something dark and distorted.
The young dragonrider did not recognize the young man, but seeing as he sat beside Roose Bolton, who was still alive despite his betrayal, though Robb had already come to a decision on how to take care of the man, was more than enough to incite Jaehaerys' bloodthirst.
What Jaehaerys felt was unmistakenly a deranged mind, thirsting for something dark, and his instinct to protect Sansa nearly drove him to draw Blackfyre and carve himself a bloody path to the man and cut him down, though a sudden strong grip on his forearm brought him back to the present.
Looking up, Jaehaerys saw Thoros looking at him deeply, his eyes displaying his admonishment of what the young dragonrider had nearly done. Gritting his teeth, Jaehaerys lowered his head in a minute bow, accepting the silent reproach without arguing.
"The First Ranger has not been seen in Castle Black for many months, though his horse had found its way back without him. Very few can survive that long on the other side of the Wall, my Lady. I am afraid … ", the man of the Night's Watch didn't finish his sentence, as he shook his head in regret.
"Thank you for letting us know, Sir.", Sansa replied, her manners and the way she held herself being impeccable, as she nodded gratefully at the man, suppressing the familiar pain of having lost another family member.