Chapter 12: Book 2: Chapter 1
A Throne Nobody Wants
Book 2: Chapter 1
**** Harrenhal- Arthur***
"That is a stupidly huge castle!" Mordred loudly exclaimed upon seeing the massive stone structure.
At her outburst, Arthur turned to look at the Princess riding next to him. The girl seemed to be making more of an effort to be sociable toward him after their talk. He could tell she was still nervous around him, but she grew less jumpy as they spent more time together. He couldn't help but find her efforts endearing, in a way.
In all honesty, he did not mind his marriage to Mordred; aside from her name, the girl was very... sweet. Arthur's plans had involved eventually settling down and getting married, with a family. It was, after all, his secret wish in his previous life, and now a goal in this one. The hurdle that was his sister's marriage had held him back; he would not marry until he was certain Daenerys was safe. The fact that he was forced to marry the Princess did not change that fact; all in all, it was not a bad match. He could have done a lot worse.
Turning to his right, Arthur's eyes fell upon Sansa; she insisted that he not be so formal with her and just call her Sansa. He found it oddly refreshing that she'd let him do that; after all, she'd been raised by Lady Catelyn. He had expected strict observance of decorum, not such indiscretion. The pretty redhead was tall for her age, as tall as Mordred, even. It was hard to believe she was closing in on fourteen years.
"Arthur?" Sansa asked, feeling his gaze on her. Her face had been permanently stained red since their wedding night.
Thoughts of their wedding night made Arthur pensive. He looked toward the massive black stone structure in the distance and let his thoughts run wild. Once again, something odd occurred, though not like with Mordred. There was no spark when he kissed Sansa.
No, it was something... rejuvenating.
...
As strange as it sounded, he drew strength from their intimate kiss, the day's fatigue fleeing his body. In fact, Arthur hadn't felt such an effect in his body since... Caliburn, or Avalon. Both were lost to him, but Arthur wondered if the Stark's line had some magical power with a similar effect; they were, after all, said to be descended from the First Men who had an unknown relationship with the Children of the Forest in the distant past. For a religion to endure longer than twelve thousand years was unheard of in his old world, yet the Old Gods, and the Faith of the Seven had lasted for thousands of years. Then there was the recent Lord of Light R'hllor that formed - more recent than the other two, that is. That told Arthur that there was powerful magic in this world, beside the odd seasonal changes.
To test his theory, Arthur had boldly asked Sansa for permission to kiss her a few times after he'd exhausted himself on purpose. If she had denied him he would've accepted it, but she always meekly accepted. Arthur found that a chaste kiss had no effect, but deeper, more intimate kisses activated whatever it was and gave him an incredible surge of energy. He didn't want to take too many liberties, and so kissed her in enough different ways to realize that the more intimate the kiss, the more power he received. Unfortunately, he was not a mage, and there was no Merlin to explain what was happening, so he would just have to accept that it was something that happened to him, here in Westeros.
Of course, there was that strange spark with Mordred. So Arthur had requested her permission and experimented with her too, using a variety of different kissing techniques. Thanks to Guinevere, though he was never able to fulfill his duties as her husband, he learned how to kiss. He was quite confident in his ability to please a woman but could not find what the initial spark that knocked Mordred out was.
"Arthur?" Sansa asked with a questioning lilt.
"Sorry, I was just thinking about that place." Arthur smiled at her, causing her face to redden once more. He then nodded to Mordred with his agreement. "You are correct, Princess; that castle is excessively large."
"Arthur, riders! At least twelve, they bear House Whent's banners." Beric rode toward Arthur and pointed to the incoming riders.
"Excuse me, my lady wives." Arthur nodded to his two wives and looked to the little boy behind them. "You're with me, Bran."
Bran Stark, Arthur's official squire, excitedly nodded. Next to him was his goodsister Arya, who looked happy just being there. Unlike other lords, he did not require Bran to carry his swords, shield, or other equipment; instead, he began the boy's training by making him wear fitted armor. It was lighter of course, as he didn't want to stunt the boy's growth, but it would make his body stronger.
Arthur rode to the front of the escort where Beric waited, just as the men from House Whent arrived. At the head of the procession was a helmetless knight; the man looked to be in his thirties, and wore a trimmed black beard. His expression was calm, giving away none of his thoughts.
Upon seeing Arthur's banner himself, he and his party dismounted and knelt before Arthur. Arthur had also dismounted, as a sign of respect.
"Greetings, Lord Pendragon, Lord Dondarrion. I, Willis Wode, temporary custodian of Harrenhal, greet its new lord," the man announced formally.
"Thank you, Ser Wode," Arthur replied just as formally and motioned for the man to rise. "I am sorry to hear of your Lady's passing, and thank you for protecting Harrenhal in her absence."
The knight looked up, the tightening of his eyes the only thing that betrayed him as he nodded. "I thank you for your kind words, Lord Pendragon, but we have a situation that demands your immediate attention; I would have greeted you properly at Harrenhal itself, otherwise."
Arthur looked at the dark haired man before exchanging a look with Beric.
"My men are yours if you need them, Arthur," Beric immediately offered, his face grave while his hand fell to his sword.
"Could you shed some light on the situation, Ser Wode?" Arthur politely asked as the man grimaced.
"It is the Princess's and Lady Stark's honor guards, my lord," Ser Wode began hesitantly, trying to find the right words. "They appear to be at odds with the sellswords you hired. . ."
Arthur's eyes widened in alarm; they were giving the men he hired a tough time? His face set and his fists tightened. "Have they been injured?"
Ser Willis was surprised by the question but quickly shook his head. "No, my Lord, the honor guards refuse to allow the sellswords entry to Harrenhal; to their credit, the sellswords have not made much of an issue, only saying that they'll wait for your arrival. However, their presence disrupts the smallfolk and patrols are not being done to eliminate bandits as the guards are more focused on watching your sellswords."
"Why are they refusing my men entry?" Arthur glowered at the disrespect toward his hired help. "I sent word in advance; all parties should be aware that they were coming."
"It is because of your words that they are being denied entry, My Lord," Ser Wode explained, though his voice shook a little. "That is one of the reasons we could not trust them."
"What do you mean?" Arthur asked, perplexed and a bit offended. "They are five hundred men against thirty-five hundred; what possible threat could they pose?"
Ser Wode looked at the man next to him before turning back to Arthur. "My Lord, if there were five hundred sellswords like your letter stated, then they would have been welcomed."
Arthur's eyes narrowed. "Surely you didn't count the smiths and stonemasons I hired as sellswords, too!"
"My Lord-" Ser Wode said, now looking a bit alarmed. "There are three thousand sellswords camped in front of Harrenhal right now, not including those who might be trade workers."
Arthur's eyes widened. No, that couldn't be right. "Lord Beric, please stop the caravan here; I will go see why there is such a discrepancy in their numbers."
"Arthur, take some of my men with you." Beric motioned with his hand. Fifty of his knights broke off and lined up behind Arthur.
"Thank you, Beric. Bran, stay here," Arthur ordered his squire. He then turned to the custodian of Harrenhal. "Lead the way, Ser Wode."
The man nodded and mounted his steed before the group of sixty rode for Harrenhal. About fifteen minutes later, they crested the final hills, and there, laid out before the black castle, was a large army.
Immediately, his eyes found their symbols, and he gaped. That didn't make sense! He saw the Eagle's flag, but the presence of the Axe Lords and Warrior's Maidens confounded him.
"Hup!" Arthur struck his reigns and rode ahead of Ser Wode to the sellsword encampment.
It was an Eagle who spotted him, first - Neron, a young recruit he had picked up from Myr.
"Company! Lord Pendragon has returned!"
Immediately, the men and women stopped what they were doing and lined up.
Arthur looked at the group with amazement. There were at least a thousand Eagles here! Another thousand were the Axe Lords and the remaining thousand were hardened looking women. They, most of all, confused him - he had never worked with the Warrior's Maidens, after all.
A tough, grizzled man - a Dothraki raised in the Free Cities, one of Arthur's battle group - emerged from the crowd.
"Captain Pendra! Or should I say Lord Pendragon now?" Seroah, their expert bowman, greeted with a smart salute, but the smile on his face revealed his amusement.
"Seroah, wha-what is going on here? I only asked for five hundred!" Arthur had dismounted and faced his friend.
"Hah! Five Hundred for you?!" Seroah laughed before he turned to the rest of the Eagle's. "Men! Our resident pretty boy thought he could just pick five hundred men and say fuck the rest!"
There was a roaring laughter from the Eagle's followed by the Bloody Axes before disparaging shouts could be heard.
"That dense whoreson!"
"Arthur! Arthur, the oblivious!"
"You're lucky we like you!"
"I can't believe you were gonna leave us behind! Ungrateful dragon bastard!"
"Ah, the men have spoken," Seroah laughed as he clapped Arthur shoulders. Arthur was in complete shock. He moved his eyes through the ranks again and saw the men were all smiling at him in a condescending manner.
"Bu-but I can't afford this many men..." Arthur brought up first rule of every sellsword company: payment.
"Ah well, good thing you don't have to pay for them," the huge Dothraki man grinned before he took a seal enveloped and handed to him. "From your lovely sister."
Arthur opened up the letter slowly and read what Daenerys had to say.
'Greetings My Love, -'
"My love?" Arthur muttered, cold beads of sweat starting to form on his head. That's- that's not how a sister should address her brother.
'I hope this find letter finds you in good health. I must say that when news reached me that you received Harrenhal as a dowry gift, I was a bit amazed. However from what you had told me of Harrenhal it was a large castle, that's good, you'll need it for the men I am sending to you for your protection.
Since our identities have been revealed, things have been hectic over here, I have been dining with the head of Volantis everyday it almost seems like. However, all of that is trivial to what I have to tell you. The men of the Eagles wants to serve you as your liege men. According to Commander Belidos, you have given the men back something they thought missing in their lives. Honor. They want to serve honorably and they have chosen you to be their lord.
I have always known that was the case, but as smart and brilliant as you are brother, you tend to fail to see the most obvious thing in front of you. Of which, one of it is me, I AM your WIFE, do not forget that, I don't care if that Baratheon slut slept with you or the Stark bitch fucked you. When I arrive we will be consummating our marriage and if you try to weasel your way out of that, I swear on the Seven and the Old gods, I will hunt you down no matter where you run!
Just so that you are aware of our situation. That being said...
The other is how you draw out the best in people. You have made the Eagle's Brood your men for years now, you just never realized it. When they found out you were never to return to Essos, they unanimously decided to follow you. Their money is now our treasury money, their families will be coming to you in blocks throughout the year. I have looked at the territory we been gifted with and included with this letter is a map of where the Eagle's think they could settle their families with your permission.
Of course, there were a couple of surprises that I could not anticipate. That being that other Sellsword Companies you have worked with have also been inspired to follow you. Along with staying here to get certain affairs in order. Captain Belidos will be helping me screen those that want to join us over in Westeros. So you need not worry about money. They are your men, they will now earn YOU money.
Along with the two thousand men I have sent a larger workforce than the one you have requested. Since we have Harrenhal maybe they can be put to work erecting new towns.
Your loving sister and First Wife,
Daenerys Stormborn Targaryen Pendragon'
Arthur jaw could only drop at what he had read. His... his sister hasn't gotten over him at all! The Eagle's are now his liege men?! How? When? Wait... his sister wrote two thousand men, why were one thousand of the most elite female Sellsword group here?
"Seroah, my sister said you should only have two thousand men, why do we have three?" Arthur asked and saw Ser Wode's stance relax slightly seeing that he have accepted these men as his.
"Ah... about that, I'll let Captain Gywr explain it to you, she merged her group with ours just a couple of hours before we departed Pentos," the man had a strange look on his face. It only took a moment for Arthur to realize what it was.
"You- You're smitten with this woman?" Arthur grinned at the Free City raised Dothraki. "I cannot believe there would ever be a day where you would ever be tied down to a single woman."
The large bowman had the good grace to blush before his eyes twinkled in amusement. "Yeah well, it's nothing compare to what you achieved Your Grace, four wives now is it?"
Arthur physically staggered a bit as if struck by Seroah's words, he had no counter for that...
"The men do not think it is weird that Daenerys and I are..."
"Married? Fucking? Who gives a shit!" Seroah spat a bit on the side. "Far as we ever been concerned, she's your wife. So what if she's your sister? You're of Targaryen blood, it's normal."
"R-right... normal," Arthur looked a bit down at that thought... his men pretty much excused him.
"I'll get captain Gywr for you," the giant of a man smirked before snapping a smart salute and walking away.
"So... everything is in order Lord Pendragon?" Ser Wode asked after seeing the giant of a man leave.
"Yes... I believe it is," Arthur replied before he turned to the Custodian. "Might I trouble you to let Lord Dondarrion know that these are indeed my men and that he should escort the caravan here? I would need the Princess and Lady Stark to talk to their honor guards."
"As you command, My Lord," Ser Wode pounded a fist to his chest before riding off toward the caravan.
Moments later Seroah returned with a pretty sandy brown haired woman who, unbelievably, was as tall as Seroah. The captain of the Maiden's Warriors was lightly armored showing her exposed skin, which had a slightly tanned hue to it. Her eyes were steel grey blue, and she walked as if she commanded the area. Most shocking of all was the large claymore she had strapped to her back. Behind him he could hear some of Beric's men stirring as they caught sight of the beauty.
As she reached him she got down to one knee and bowed for him. "Lord Pendragon, I greet you as Captain of the Warrior's Maidens. Might I request a private audience?"
Arthur saw his battle brother looked at him in envy before he walked away. Turning to Beric's men, he nodded to them making them fan out of earshot leaving the two standing alone.
"We're alone now, Captain," Arthur nodded over to the woman who stood a full head taller than him.
The woman looked at him, her eyes searching, hesitation in her eyes before she bit her lower lip and nodded, as if she just determined a course of action.
"Lord Pendragon..." Gywr began softly looking directly in his eyes. "Does 'Camelot' and 'Britannia' mean anything to you?"
Arthur eyes widened hearing those words uttered for the first time since he's been in this world from someone else other than him. He saw immense relief on the woman's face as she smiled happily.
"So it wasn't just me and Galina after all," Gywr sighed happily before she searched his face again. "You are, or were, her weren't you?"
Arthur narrowed his eyes and decided to test out the knowledge only a hand full of his knights have ever known. "Her, who?"
Gywr looked a bit surprised to be tested before she looked around and whispered slowly. "Arturia."
Arthur looked at the woman, her demeanor and remembered only one knight in his former retinue that carried himself this way.
"Gawain?"
+++ Sansa +++
Sansa patted Taiga's head as she looked at what was her home for the past two weeks. It was a gloomy place, and there was something off about the interior that gave her the chills. This castle dwarfed every single castle in existence in her old world, even the great pyramids and Roman Coliseum could not compare.
"Can- Can I sleep with you again tonight Sansa?" Arya asked uncertainly as she had brushed Nymeria fur. "J-jsut for tonight that is of course."
'Just for tonight' had been for the past two weeks since their arrival.
"Of course," Sansa replied but it occurred to her that Arthur might request her bed and she blushed. Since their first night, he had only requested kisses but not that... every time he kissed her she felt a bit funny. The morning after her wedding she had woken up sore and could barely even walk. Wyma Mandery and the other girls from the North had only giggle between heavy blushes at her inability to walk straight the next morning. It was weird, the heating up of her body after that first kiss and her dreaming of that dragon ripping off her arm then devouring her.
Sansa was able to chat some with Mordred about it, but after comparing notes, other than finding it a bit suspected, they could only determine that Arthur had bedded them without their knowledge. She wished she could talk with her other counterparts about it but she had not seen any of the other Shirous since before her wedding. She could not help but feel oddly disappointed at not being able to see the two, even that asshole Archer.
"Did you see that tall woman? I don't think I ever seen anyone bigger!" Arya explained enviously. Sansa could understand her little sister's envy, the girl, despite eating much bigger portions than Bran, was still short. Sansa had drawn upon the knowledge of Shirou to cooked the girl a balance meal but beside a few centimeters the girl hardly grew. In fact the girl's direwolf was beginning to dwarf her.
"Just don't tell that to her face," Sansa reminded her sister. "Some women don't like being reminded of that."
"At least she won't be another of Arthur's wives, seeing as how she's married," Arya said with real relief in her voice before she blushed and looked over to her sister.
"Yes, well, that would be..." Sansa did not know what to describe it as, but what was one more even if the woman was interested in Arthur? Did she really have any room to talk when it had been shown that had she not ended up reborn here, she'd bed two women at the same time?
There was a soft knocked at the door before it was opened and a familiar blonde head peeked in.
"Sansa?"
"Mordred, come in," Sansa invited her friend and sister-wife. That was the only term she came up with. "Done for the day?"
Mordred dressed in pretty Pendragon blue appeared to frown a bit before nodding as she entered and closed the door behind her.
"I had some food sent for us. It looks like my Uncle and Ser Jory are working in conjunction with Arthur to find a better way to mesh the work force. Your Jory seem taken with Captain Gywr's vice-captain Galina," Mordred gossiped but still had a frown on her face.
Sansa had been very curious when Ser Wode had reported that the three thousand men did in fact belong to Arthur, but with one minor correction. Only Two thousand were men, the other thousand were women. A sellsword company comprised of women... that was something she had been surprised to see but Arya delighted in.
When Sansa did meet them, she was intimated by the sheer height of Captain Gywr of the Warrior's Maidens. Sansa always felt she was tall for her age, but this woman put her to shame! She might even be as tall as Smalljon! Then there was the massive sword strapped to her back, only someone like Greatjon could probably wield it. The woman also exuded a dignified air, a stern look was on her face at all times, it was a huge contrast to her vice-captain, a smaller girl who used two short blades that reminded her of an augmented Roman galdius. The girl had dark hair with an easy smile and greeted her and Mordred enthusiastically upon meeting them.
"You know you can get wrinkles from frowning too much right?" Sansa teased her friend but saw the girl's expression did not change for a while now.
"Well, I just can't figure out why that huge bitch hates me," Mordred confided as she poured herself some wine. "From the moment we met, the giantess has been nothing but hostile."
"Perhaps you should tell Arthur she's making you uncomfortable?" Sansa offered. She learned a long time ago that in this world, men hold all the powers. But a cunning woman could rule over the men.
"No," Mordred huffed with a shake of her head. "Arthur seem to really trust her, already delegating her with the job to work together with that other giant friend of his- uh- Sero-something."
"Oh? What is Arthur planning now?" Sansa asked interested in what was going to happen. It seem she would not be lacking excitement for now.
"Arthur... has decided to integrate the two forces," Mordred replied a small smile. "He also offered to release any of the men on our side if they feel uncomfortable working with his forces."
"Did any of them accept?" Sansa eyes widen at her husband's bold move. Jory would stay, her father had tasked him with guarding her after all and Jory had always been completely loyal.
Mordred came over by Taiga and started to stroke the wolf's fur. Taiga liked Mordred so Sansa knew the Princess was a good person. Surprisingly Taiga was submissive to Arthur and listened to his command. Nymeria and Summer did not and were still free spirited but Summer, knew not to bother Arthur. Nymeria would demand Arthur's attention whenever she spotted him.
"Of course not!" Mordred scoffed as if the answer were obvious. "They would be killed by my mother before they could come within sight of Casterly Rock."
"What's to stop them from starting trouble then?" Sansa asked wondering if there would be discord in their household. She hated trouble and would much rather everyone be happy.
"Most likely threat of bodily harm," Mordred answered succinctly before she let out a wide smiled. "However, with Arthur's new forces that means we have sixty five hundred men now!"
Sansa had to whistle making the two direwolves's ears perked up. "That's... a lot."
"Still smaller than what we should have but... if I am understanding this correctly, Arthur will be receiving more Sellswords through the years, Sellswords who have swore fealty to him, That's even talk of giving Pink Maiden more business to make it our own port due to the connection he has in the Free Cities," Mordred's voice contained a trace of pride.
"You seem positively pleased," Sansa commented and saw her sister-wife look away with a blush.
"I-I'm just impressed with our husband that's all," Mordred coughed slightly in her hand signaling she was about to change subjects. "Anyway, I didn't come here to just report this. You said you wanted an assistant blacksmith for your private workshop, right?"
Sansa eyes widened and looked to her friend, not daring to hope.
"It just so happens that my grandfather has sent a few extra smiths too many with the Lannister forces, I say we go poach one," Mordred announced generously as she stood up and motioned for Sansa to join her.
Arya also stood up wanting to follow along.
"Your wolves should stay here though, a smithy is hot, don't want their furs burning off," Mordred warned and Sansa had to agreed. Turning to Taiga she motion for her pet to stay. Arya did the same to her's a moment later.
Smiling, Mordred open the door and saw their personal guards -which were Warrior's Maidens-followed wordlessly behind the two ladies of House Pendragon.
Sansa felt immensely grateful to her friend. The girl had not laughed when Sansa said she wanted to try her hand at blacksmithing. Analyzing all of these weapons and armor she came across, she realized that she knew how to craft those blades.
Unlike Shirou and Archer who can actually create the weapon and copy its age and power by projecting them, she could only physically craft the blade itself but with none of its history or enchantment. However, her crowning achievement and something she had kept to herself was the ability to make Valyrian steel. Their composition was really tough and even Archer had been impressed by its magical attribute. However, forging Valyrian steel was impossible for her, reforging existing ones was easy enough, but making a brand new one required things and abilities she simply does not have.
If Sansa wanted to forge new Valyrian swords she would need dragon fire, and based on what she seen of Harrenhal, dragon fire could melt stone bricks, so she was pretty sure she'd be killed since she was not impervious to fire even with the weaker version of reinforcement she'd been learning. However if she managed to survive that ordeal, Sansa would need to mix a copious amount of dragon's blood to the liquid steel while it was being super heated by the dragon fire. Sansa was pretty sure she'd be dead at that point. After all, she highly doubted she could bring down a dragon if they still existed. The only requirement that Sansa was certain she could do was the magus incantation part as she brought the blade into being.
Lacking both dragon fire and dragon's blood, Sansa hit a dead end with Valyrian steel. However, she could create swords from her world that she copied from Shirou's armory that were similar, known as Damascus steel, she just needed to find the right metal. However knowing how to create them was one thing, actually doing it was a different matter all together. She had tried to forge a broadsword in her workshop but failed miserably. Several other swords she crafted came out wrong because she didn't have the strength and natural endurance a smith spent an entire lifetime cultivating.
To copy with magic was one thing but to bring a new blade into being would require Sansa heart and soul dedicated from a young age if she wanted an excellent weapon and just got an average one. That was why she and Mordred were on their way to look for a smith's assistance. Sansa would need strong hands to strike the blades at parts where her own strength is insufficient. While her parents loved her enough to let her toil away in the kitchen, she's was certain that working in Mikken's workshop was a no, no and had she been married to Joffrey, she would be required to do Queenly duties. No time to experiment.
Arthur, if he truly was THAT Arthur- or Arturia - as Shirou called her, would be more understanding and lax on gender roles. The guards behind them, being women, were proof of that.
"Here we are," Mordred announced as they entered a lower part of the immense castle. It was likely she could put three of Fuyuki City in the castle, such was its size.
Mordred pushed the door open and Sansa found herself immediately assaulted by intense heat followed by the sound of metal pounding on metal. All throughout the massive forge area were dozens of smiths and their apprentices working earnestly. Looking up, she saw the roof was open with air ducts to help circulate the air.
"Bring the water here quick, boy!"
"Where's my damn hammer? I left it right here!"
"Hold it steady, lad, hold it steady!"
"Bugger it all!"
"P-Princess? Lady Sansa?" a guardsman wearing Lannister red asked in surprised. Clearly he had not expected the two ladies of the Castle to be here.
"Sansa here has need of a smith, I aim to find her one," Mordred answered imperiously, daring the guardsman to try and stop her.
"Of course, Your Grace" the Lannister guard bowed immediately and looked at the other that was with him. "You heard her Grace, make sure none of these whoresons try anything with her ladyships!"
Immediately four more guards joined the two Warrior's Maidens that were already in their party.
Here and there blacksmiths and their apprentices stopped when they saw Mordred and her passing. Some even struck their hand by accident, so distracting was Mordred's beauty. After looking down the rows she saw one of the weaponsmiths' and stopped in front of his workshop.
"Mi-miladies," the blacksmith, a man in his forties, bowed right away. "F-finest blades in Westeros, I guarantee it!"
"You made this?" Sansa asked as she analyzed a short sword that was on display. She immediately found its flaw, the blade would break under heavy pressure. "Got any more of your works around?"
The smith laid all of his wares for her to browse, not realizing that she was analyzing his skills. Most of his weapons were serviceable, but they didn't have that refinement that she was looking for, she was going to pour her 'magic' or soul with her crafted blade, she needed a smith that love his blades in the same manner.
"Thank you," Sansa dipped her head in gratitude and moved onto the next stall. And so it was that she, with Mordred and Arya, spent time testing swords from the smithies. Mordred's casual handling of broadswords surprised both their lady-guards and the Lannister's men. From the expression on the Warrior's Maidens, they had not expected the princess to be that skilled.
Arya likewise, was in heaven looking for a companion for Needle.
It was an hour later when they were halfway through the smiths when Sansa noticed a tall man with dark hair setting up shop a bit away from the main workstations. Curious as to why he would separate himself like that, she walked over to his stall.
"Miladies, you don't want to go over there," a nearby smith called out. "He's just a bastard with no master."
Sansa heard the older man's disgust as he said 'bastard' and her ingrained sense of justice immediately kicked in. Glaring at the man she purposefully walked over to the lone smith but upon closer inspection had to correct herself. He was not a man but a young boy in his teens.
"Mi-miladies," the handsome youth bowed clumsily making Arya giggle and Mordred raise an eyebrow in amusement.
The boy's wares were not really impressive visually, a two hand sword that he created was slightly curved where as it should be straight. Narrow where it should be wide, yet there was something in it that called out to Sansa. Placing her hand on it, she analyzed it and widened her eyes in surprise. Whatever the boy lacked in skill, he made up for with immense passion, pouring his entire being into his works.
She needed that skill.
"Him," Sansa pointed to the boy making Mordred and Arya looked at her in surprise.
"Are you sure? His weapons are..." Mordred trailed off having enough kindness to not cut the boy's pride.
"Only because he lack the necessary knowledge, but he is the bone of his swords," Sansa explained to her friend. To think, she could meet such a hidden gem here.
"What's your name?"
"G-Gendry Waters milady," the boy introduced hesitantly.
"Fuck!" Mordred spat out startling Sansa. The blonde looked at the boy. "Tell me, did you originally come from King's Landing?"
"Y-Yes your grace," Gendry answered fearfully.
"Fucking old man," Mordred mumble but noticed the look Sansa was directing her way. "I'll tell you later."
Sansa gave her friend another look to be sure but saw the princess appeared lost in her own thoughts. Looking at the boy she smiled kindly at him.
"I find myself in need of a smith for a special project, would you have any problem following my instruction on smithing?"
The youth looked stunned at the offer but immediately shook his head.
"Good, pack your things, we will be going to a private workshop."
++++Varys+++
Not for the first time, Varys cursed the murderous princess to the depths of the Seven Hells as he wiped the sweat from his forehead. The sun from Essos was as hot as the Dornish dunes, something he though impossible.
"We're almost here Milord," Bronn the capable Sellsword mercenary poked his head inside the canopy and announced.
"I'm not a lord," Varys scoffed, but nodded as he was almost to his destination, Meereen. Peeking his head out he saw the great pyramid structure in the distance. Here he would find salvation and hope. He had been fearfully looking at his back since he fled, afraid that Mordred's daggers would find him.
He and Petyr had underestimated the girl, well poor foolish Petyr paid the price for it. It was one of his little birds that had witnessed the cold murder of the late Master of the Coin. To think the girl would dirty her own hand and kill him in his own whorehouse.
Varys had to shudder at the brutality of the girl and now she sank her claws in Viserys Targaryen. He could have never imagined that young Viserys would grow up to be such a capable warrior. He had a brief chance to meet the grown boy alone but the lack of ambition made him all but worthless. How could he discard his lineage and heritage like that? Luckily he received news from his friend Illyrio Mopatis that made him abandon his post. He would be on the winning side of the war to come. Their victory was all but certain now but that did not mean he wouldn't be able to give the treacherous little lioness a going away present.
Varys had sent Stannis young Edric Storm along with a lineage book, which he had painstakingly preserved, to point out the Queen's treachery. He have also sent word to Lisa Arryn and disclosed to her the true nature of why her lover was killed and for what secret that he had been killed to keep silent. No doubt there would be a slow gradual build up in forces but unfortunately that was the extent of what he could do. When he left, the match between Joffrey and Margery of Highgarden was all but assured. Olenna's ambitions knows no bound and she would overlook treachery to win the throne. However, he was counting on Lord Stark to do the honorable thing and back Stannis, and where the Starks go, the Tullys' would follow.
And when that happens...
"HALT!"
"Trouble, milord," Bronn said through the curtains.
Poking his head out, he noticed his entire sellsword retinue had been surrounded by Unsullied.
"Peace! Peace! I come here as a friend of Maigter Illyrio! Tell him Varys is here, please." Varys rushed out of the canopy and raised his hand in surrender.
The Unsullied soldiers, with their leather armor and large shield and long spear did not make any more advancement. Still he did see one single Unsullied soldier run back to the city probably to report his claim.
After an hour wait, a smaller retinue came out and in the group was Magister Illyrio, a fat heavy set man sitting on a cart with a curtain shade over it. The Unsullied line slowly opened allowing the fat man's escort to get closer. A second look show that the escorts bared the armband of the Golden Company.
Varys couldn't help but smile and wave his hand in greeting. "Well met Magister Illyrio!"
"Varys? I couldn't believe it, why are you here?" Illyrio asked looking at him strangely.
"My life was in imminent danger from the false princess," Varys got off the canopy and approached Illyrio. "I came here to serve the true ruler in any way I can."
"Well, in that case, I say it is good to see you my friend," The fat heavy set man also got off his cart and laughed jovially while clasping his arm.
"Tell me, is it true? Really true?" Varys asked in a hushed whisper.
Illyrio however merely smiled as he invited Varys onto his cart.
"So... about that payment?" Bronn asked looking at Varys expectantly.
"You know, you weren't have bad for a sellsword, how would you like to continue to work for me for a while longer?" Varys asked the mercenary.
Bronn merely spat something to the ground before giving him a level look. "As long as you got the coins, You can have me for as long as you want."
"Excellent, you shall be paid and a bonus too I should imagine," Varys nodded as one of his loyal retainer opened their treasure chest and paid the sellsword.
Bronn took the gold and bit down on it before grinning. "At your service milord."
Varys and Illyrio rode back to the city under guard from the greatest sellsword company in existence.
"So what can you tell me of our new lord 'Pendragon' now?" Illyrio asked curiously and if he noticed the surprise on Varys face he did not show it.
"So his name reached this far already?" Varys asked curiously.
"Oh yes, young Arthur has been quite popular in Volantis and when his true origins came to light, well, that's why the Golden Company have moved you see, to be shown up by someone who discarded his lineage was intolerable to them."
Varys knew that the Blackfyres, who founded the Golden Company, have always considered themselves true dragons despite their fall from grace. So young Viserys declaring to all that the Targaryen line was over was a slap in the face to those that still want to return to said family.
"Well he is Mordred Waters' puppet now," Varys scoffed. "A most unfortunate fate for such an honorable boy."
"Mordred Waters?" Illyrio asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Oh trust me, that girl is no more Baratheon than I am," Varys replied with a smirk. "And I am not the only one that knows."
Illyrio's smile mirrored Varys' own as they entered the city gates and saw Unsullied standing guard.
"Pity you couldn't find young Viserys after Jon Connington's botched attempt on his life," Varys lamented sadly. "No doubt he could have saved him from the Lion's den. I do not envy his fate."
"Viserys and Daenerys had proven to be most illusive," Illyrio replied regretfully. "Did you see him? What did he look like?"
"The best comparison I could think of is Queen Rhaella," Varys answered after thinking it over as they approached the heart of the city.
"Truly? Not like Rhaegar?" Illyrio asked in surprised.
"No, Rhaegar's opposite except for maybe his skill with the blade," Varys watched on as they pyramid structure loomed closer.
"We'll, we are here, no doubt you'd want to meet him," Illyrio grinned as he got off the cart and moved into the Pyramid which now seemed to be guarded by Golden Company men and not Unsullied.
"The Masters of this city gave him their seat of power?" Varys marveled in amazement.
Illyrio laughed as they entered the main hallway. "The Masters of this city are all dead, my friend."
Varys was surprised when instead of going straight to the center, where he supposed the ruling seat was, they veered left and entered a courtyard where sound of metal hitting metal could be heard. Upon turning the corner, Varys was struck dumb thinking that a dead person walked among them.
"Rhaegar?" He whispered softly.
"Truly? He looked that much like his sire?" Illyrio asked and nodded as if confirming something.
Upon a second look, he could see the man he thought was Rhaegar was actually a youth who could have been Rhaegar when he was younger. His silver hair was long, falling past his shoulders, while his face could be considered handsome and beautiful, accentuated by arresting violet eyes. He was still lanky but was wearing armor of black and red. In his hand was a magnificent sword, judging by the blade it was of Valyrian make, across from him was a man in golden armor dual-wielding two spears, one longer than the other.
Thack! Thack! Thack!
The man in golden armor weaved like water against the silver haired youth defend desperately against the attack.
"Aegon..."
"The one and only," Illyrio confirmed as they stayed in the shadows so as to not disturb the losing prince.
"That sword, it's Valyrian, and looks familiar, where did he get it from?" Varys asked as the steel was a mix of black and red rippling in patterns on the blade.
"Oh, I am surprised my friend, did you not see pictures of it in the Red Keep's halls?" Illyrio looked at his face in amusement.
Varys eyes widened as he did recognized the blade. "B-Blackfyre?"
Illyrio's amused look confirmed it for him.
"How? Where?" Varys asked as he looked upon what was thought to be the lost blade of Aegon the Conqueror.
"The same place where he found Balerion."
As if on cue a large black creature the size of a horse entered the courtyard after Aegon had been disarmed by his Golden Company opponent. The creature made as if to stalk the silver haired prince before pouncing on him. Suddenly the Prince whose face had been completely serious let out childish laughter as he playfully rolled around on the ground with the creature.
"That is enough training for today," the golden armored hand took off his helmet to reveal an extremely handsome man with dark hair. Below his left eye was a beauty mark that one could not help but feel accentuated his beauty.
"S-sorry Dia," Aegon said in between chuckles, "It looks Balerion is feeling playful today."
"Is, is that a dragon?!"
His voice must have been too loud as both prince and dragon turned their heads toward him. The dual-wielding man, Dia, however merely looked at him as if he had known Varys had been there the entire time.
"Lord Mopatis, who is that with you?" Aegon's young voice came out full of authority.
"May I present to you, your most loyal servant, Varys, the Master of Whispers," Illyrio bowed and introduced with a flourish.
Suddenly Aegon eyes brightened and his smiles turned friendly. "Ah my savior, it was you who switch me out and spared me from my sister's and mother's fate wasn't it?"
Next to the Prince, the handsome man twirled his spear and hooked it to the harness on his back. His face softened upon hearing the prince's words.
Varys immediately went on bended knee and bowed his head low. "I only wish I could do more your grace, I have failed your family."
"Nonsense!" Aegon handsome face rebutted as he grabbed the Varys by the arm and lifted him up. "If not for you, there would be no more Targaryens... even my uncle has abandoned our family."
"About Prince Viserys..." Varys started slowly but saw an older man with close cropped hair shake his head. He remembered that man, that was Jon Connington.
"I heard about my uncle's denouncement. Pendragon! Bah! " Aegon spat into the ground in disgust. "Has he no dragon's pride?!"
"Your aunt has yet to join him, perhaps she does not feel the same way," Varys offered helpfully and saw Jon Connington stare at him. A long time ago, Jon Connington had decided that in order to make Aegon's transition smoother, he would get rid of Viserys, who no one had heard from for a long time. Because Viserys was older and disappeared for so long, he was afraid the boy had been building himself an army.
In according of the line of succession, Aegon would be king over Viserys, but everyone know that once you attained power it was hard to let go, and Viserys was a Targaryen, and Targaryens were a prideful lot. So Varys's little birds had been able to get a slight lead. The plan was simple, kill Viserys and bring Princess Daenerys to be Aegon's bride.
They had failed on both counts and have lost track of the two in Pentos. Varys could have never imagined they would be right under the Golden Company nose in Volantis. No wonder Illyrio could not find the missing prince. They looked in the local area for children of that age, but to journey on foot all the way to Volantis. What willpower.
"No one know where she is and our spies in Volantis have only vague reports of movements..." Aegon mused as he looked to Jon Connington. "We should throw a feast for Varys, if he's here no doubt he met with misfortune, we shall not be ungracious hosts.
"You are too kind your grace!" Varys said in relief. The young prince was charismatic that much was sure, Varys was nearly sucked into the prince's pace.
"It's the least I can do for my most savior" Aegon wave off Varys praises. "No matter, we shall make due, now, tell me more about my Uncle."
TBC...
AN: And the wheels keep on churning!
Thanks to Deer and Delaney for helping with this chapter! Seriously!
So yeah! Thanks for the enthusiastic support and yep! The gender bent counter went up once more! As now we have a few more plot hooks that introduced as well, that's how this fic rolls! I think this fic speaks for itself so I won't explain anything. It's something different at least!
Thanks for those that gave me such support and left Reviews, you guys are awesome!
To my new readers which seem to be people who read this fic out of boredom but find themselves pleasantly surprised or obviously disgusted. Thanks!
Oh and on Bronn … BRONN NOO! Why! Why did you join Varys side! Well, for those that know Bronn, his answer come down to something very simple. Money. As long as you have money to pay him and since Tyrion was never arrested by Catelyn... well.. why would he ever end up in the imp service?
As for the other major plot point, I'll let you make your own conclusion thought the clues are there ^_^.
And yes there are hints about identities everywhere for Fate fans if you know where to look, for the ASOIAF crowd. Well, you might be pleasantly surprised. Or completely disgusted. Who knows!
On another note... watches the latest Game of Throne... That won't be happening to Sansa. Such bull. At least it's not like that in the books yet...
As for Arturia and Arthur reaction to just married life and family in general. For FSN fan, she banged Morgan Le Fey. Then, she was cool with doing a threesome with Rin and Shirou during the Beserker fight, sure it was life or death, but she was down with it. In UBW good ending, she stuck by Rin and Shirou and is down with that too. All in all, Arthur is the male mentality of Saber/Arturia taken to its logical conclusion who grew up in that time.
Up NEXT: Arthur and Mordred POV
As always C+C welcome, reviews appreciated!