In Tangled Coils
First Day of the Fifth Month 294 AC
"I wanted to see you," you reply after a moment's thought. No sense trying to strike deals with the young man right now when you do not even know what deals you can strike. At least there is no hate in his mismatched gaze, wariness yes, but he would have to be mad not to be wary under present circumstances. "For obvious reasons, I wanted to ensure I had the main line of House Lannisters in custody."
"Pardon the lip, Your Majesty," he replies, struggling to hang on to his insouciant smile. "But I can think of a lot of obvious reasons, and some of them would make an ill-hearing for me."
Well, you cannot give him the answer he might hope for, but neither does more fear and uncertainty serve your interests. "We will speak later," you press. Then in a softer tone add, "I pride myself in hearing people out before I make a decision in any matter."
"Where do I put him?" Garin asks mentally, an edge of amusement to his words. He is not used to seeing you defer meetings when the person is right in front of you.
"Let him choose his room, wherever he feels comfortable, just make sure he is properly guarded," you reply in like manner.
It is only hours latter that you are told that he had chosen to take his father's chambers... and started rearranging the furniture with the aid of his guards. You might have taken the news worse had it not been for the fact that his first order of business been taking down a portrait of his father and having it hung in a cupboard behind the jams and strings of sausages. Your next few hours are spent with more urgent matters than trying to guess the thoughts of the heir of House Lannister.
***
Strange echoes pass through the chamber without sound, and light fills it without source or kindling, dancing upon strange geometric patterns in the walls. One might have called it ore, but for the fact that the milky rust-red substance marbled with milky-white substance does not match any metal you know of or could even recall from all the dreams of dragonkind. Even to lay a hand upon it fills you with a faint sense of revulsion as though you had touched a block of rotting meat. In the center lies the altar, if altar you can name it, a thing of stone yes, or so it must have once been, but now it sits caged among gears and pulleys until you could not even see the craft of it.
The mechanisms continue upward towards the keep proper and down to the very gate that leads into the Formian hive. Though the wheels are not running and the gears are not turning, it reminds you of nothing so much as a vast mill. "Well, we have the people who made this monstrosity, or some of them at least. Does anyone know how we might take this thing apart without risking the lives and sanity of those bound to it?" You look around the room between your sister, Lya, and Melisandre and Benerro speaking for their god, Breath Taker for his, and Zathir whose mournful gaze says more of the purpose of this place than the unease you feel could ever do. Nirah had refused the invitation, claiming no skill in the workings of consecrations, and Bloodraven had chosen to advise from the shadows, as is his wont, rather than reveal his current form as the Last Greenseer.
"Fire purifies, but it is a harsh tool," Melisandre offers after a moment. "I think we would be best served taking the reigns and then freeing those who were bound, be it by blood or by vow."
"To free a slave but first make them your own?" Zathir hisses, as frustrated as you had ever heard him. "If the unbinding comes from a master then masters they shall seek until the end of days, a tithe of poison made part of their souls. No, this place should be broken utterly and the very stone of the mountain brought down upon it, then sealed for all time."
"I understand the sentiment, holy one," Lya begins, her tone making it clear that she does not agree. "But I think we would be risking too much to simply break the lever and hope the mechanism will fall out well for those ensnared."
"Many things bound in life are loosened in death," Breath Taker interjects. "Sacrifice the man who helped forge these chains upon the stone and those who are bound by it shall be freed utterly."
"How...?" Dany starts, asking quick questions in the tongue of the Deeps. It soon transpires that this too would have a price, beyond even not having the use of Tywin Lannister for his trial, for every Golden Shield will know the pain of his death and as for his own kin, they are likely to endure soul tearing agony beyond what mortal flesh can ever breed.
Which path do you choose:
[] The way of Fire
-[] Write in argument for Zathir
[] The way of Cleansing
[] The way of Death
[] Write in
OOC: To be honest Nirah is not here because the scene is already crowded enough for my taste, we do not need another magical snake talking magic.