- Location
- Europe
Hmm, dunno, it seems OOC for Ruby to resort to murder. I suspect that's more of a Bloodraven plot.
EDIT:
To refer to your edit, that's probably correct and a good catch, but again, I doubt Ruby's involvement.
A Song of Weiss and Fire
- Thread starter Krieg Schnee
- Start date
EDIT:
To refer to your edit, that's probably correct and a good catch, but again, I doubt Ruby's involvement.
Physically she'd fit best with the Starks, who have grey eyes... makes the most sense with her silver ones, but yeah, she's probably with the Tyrells. Maybe she was Ruby Flowers but got the name Rose from the Tyrells or something like that.
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
This is actually fairly brilliant on Weiss's part.
The Seven are more formally The Seven Who Are One. If she's a divine incarnation --or even just a Blessed mortal champion/saint-- then that is a ready made excuse for having a skill or interest in anything.
Oh Weiss.
Thinking of reasons why he would be doing that. Well it occurs to me that there is one loophole in the cannot awaken the power of aura thing. Children of their own body. A son or daughter of Weiss would have the same ability to wield aura due to literally being surrounded by it and born of their flesh. Although through that logic it might only be something that can be passed on through the mother.
- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
So, Bloodraven is playing eugenicist.
But, is he trying to prevent Weiss from breeding ever or is he just vetoing choices he doesn't approve of?
At least Melisandre won't do as she pleases when Blake and Shireen's Hightower mother is around to keep the Red Priestess in check in Dragonstone and not fold like canon Shireen's mother.
"Hey first time for everything, Weiss! Look at me with this massive slab of iron as my sword and my new arm cannon!" - Yang the Black Swordswoman probably
At least Weiss and Tyrion are getting well together when it comes to trading snarks and intellectual conversation. Both are unusual Lannisters in their own right.
What are those schmucks gonna do? Bum rush Weiss who can just slice through them like hot knife on butter.
Oh the irony as Weiss is rich herself. But of course she had Character Development and that she knew how rich people tick.
- Location
- Russia
With Weiss planning to participate in melee I expect her to fight Toros of Myr (he dominated melee in canon). Toros have fire sword and questions to fate. Will he find his faith strengthen and begin spewing more miracles during fight against Weiss because she is proof of Divinity? Will Weiss find such fight entertaining and interesting? (Finally someone with something resembling semblance/magic!?)
3-2
Weiss
Settling into the Red Keep took less time than Weiss had expected, thanks to the steward who coordinated with the servants of the arriving Houses. By the time Weiss arrived in the room, her luggage filled with all of her belongings were already there, neatly arranged and laid out with the professionalism she would've expected from the Wahl des Gründers staff in Atlas. She carefully inspected each trunk or box filled with her belongings, and did a mental count. If any of her belongings went missing here, then it would be a much bigger hassle to get it back, or find replacements. Clothes and shoes were made according to one's measurements, similar to Weiss' own wardrobe when she was the Heiress to the Schnee Dust Company, and weren't available on short notice. Dresses would be easier to replace than her trousers, and even then that would likely take several days. Weiss narrowed her eyes as she rummaged through each trunk as she moved clothes around, checking to make sure all was in readiness. She released a sigh of relief when she caught sight of Kalimeris' glimmering handle, the rest of the blade hidden by its sheath and wrapped in several trousers.
"Well, everything seems to be in order." Weiss mumbled to no one in particular. The guest room she had been assigned to was a decent size, even if it was much smaller than her own back in Lannisport. It made sense from the point of view of their host, Weiss was a simple Lannister cousin of the Lannisport branch. Quite frankly, between that and the Queen's open hostility, the fact she wasn't just assigned a spot in the stables was a miracle, in her mind at least. The servants she brought from Lannisport would likely be assigned to the serving quarters, while Cedric, Pod and the rest of her guards would be put in the barracks. She didn't envy her help, upsetting the pecking order of who got to sleep where in the servant's quarters would not be ideal, though at least the Guards would have plenty of room, given how many barracks there seemed to be.
Still, that meant she was going to be alone for a few hours if Weiss decided to stay cooped up in her temporary room. Her sapphire eyes gave the room a brief glance, checking for anything out of the ordinary. There was nothing here to entertain herself with aside from a few books that sat on a shelf at the far side of her chambers, and Kalimeris which was safely stored in a now locked trunk. Weiss pressed her lips together and turned her attention to the door. She could practice her glyphs and summons, but then again, she was in the Red Keep where eyes and ears were everywhere. The rumors of the walls being filled with a maze of secret passages certainly made her reluctant to try anything too outrageous.
"It would be nice to read again." Weiss said out loud, making her way to the bookshelf. She was going to be in King's Landing until the end of the tourney in two weeks, she had plenty of time to explore. The tips of her delicate fingers ran over the spine of several well-worn books. The previous occupant of the room must've enjoyed reading. She grabbed one at random and scanned the cover.
"Paying her Iron Price." Was this a history of Greyjoy's Rebellion? This belonged in a maester's library, not some random guestroom. Weiss' nostrils flared ever so slightly as she opened the book, roughly in the middle, where the Battle of Fair Isle should've been. She started to read.
"" Her lips pressed hard against his rough face, and her hands roamed his pale body, feeling the scars of a man who had worked hard out on the open ocean."
Weiss immediately slammed the book closed and returned it to its rightful spot on the bookshelf. She quietly wiped her hand on the skirt of her dress with a face of disgust. Her cheeks burning red, she did her best to resist the urge to simply chuck the book into the fireplace.
"The people here have worse taste in porn than Blake."
After her failed attempt at finding something to read, Weiss decided to explore the Red Keep before more guests started to arrive. Lords of the Vale, Riverlands, Stormlands and the Reach would start to arrive in greater numbers with each passing day, which would make the Red Keep crowded, and make it much harder to find peace and quiet outside of her chambers. Weiss wore a simple red dress that hid her shoulders, and was decorated with several golden snowflakes with seven points. It was easy to change into without the help of her maids and comfortable.
And she was able to hide a knife in one of the long sleeves, just in case, even if she was able to kill a grown man with her bare hands, Weiss preferred to do it with a blade. Less of a mess that way, and well, even with Aura, sometimes people would be more intimidated by her branding a blade as opposed to her bare hands. Even if she was willing to kill to defend herself, she'd rather not take someone's life if she didn't have to.
The halls of the Red Keep, well the portion she was staying in, at least, were rather empty, aside from a handful of servants that scurried about to prepare rooms for other Lords and Ladies. The size of the Red Keep still amazed her, as it dwarfed the Gold Keep she was used to, and was laid out far differently. Also, it felt unusually drafty in quite a few places, now that she thought about it, probably lending some credence to the theories of secret passages. Weiss allowed her eyes to wander, searching for any possible entrances or something to trigger one, which proved to be the best when a small child nearly ran into her. Dodging at the last second and whipping her dress around, Weiss nearly ended up drenched in dirty floor water from the bucket being carried by the little urchin.
The child stared up at her with wide eyes and ran off, mouthing an apology under his breath. Weiss frowned.
"Well that's strange." She murmured. Smallfolk generally were afraid of the nobility, it was surprising to see the child run off instead of begging for forgiveness, not that Weiss was angry or anything. It was especially odd since this was the Red Keep, if anywhere the servants would be expected to be polite, it'd be here. A simple apology would've worked. Shrugging it off, Weiss stepped around the puddle to hopefully find a courtyard, yet the strange feeling never went away.
Several minutes and an empty hallway later, the feeling still remained. Narrowing her eyes, Weiss looked around as much as she could without actually turning her head to give away that she had caught on. Someone was watching, well, either that or the Red Keep was as haunted as Harrenhal. Both were equally possible, having had quite a bit of bloodshed in them, but at the same time, well, that was just crazy. There was no such thing as ghosts, was there? Then again, she also didn't think magic was real, and then Yang's egg donor went and turned into a corvid in front of her eyes, so there was that.
Time to put it to the test, even if she ended up looking like a mad maid.
"Show yourself." Weiss said simply, yet loud enough to be heard. "I know you're watching me." She allowed herself to take another step, turning her head to the side as if she could see them. "I can see you."
"Most impressive." An unfamiliar voice crawled into her ear from behind, causing her to nearly jump. Thankfully, she had enough self control to stop that. Turning her attention back to the direction she had been facing, Weiss was face to face with a plump man. He smelled like lilac and lavender, with a bald head and round face. His powdered face gave her a kind smile, one that seemed to match his dark eyes. He wore a black and gold gown, with matching velvet slippers. His outfit looked to be more expensive than Weiss' own armor, which she spent a fortune on. "How were you able to do that?"
"I lied." Weiss said dryly as she crossed her arms over her chest. "It's considered rude to spy upon a lady when she is without her escort." She sincerely doubted Cedric would've been able to sense the fat man. Granted, to be fair, without her aura-senses, she doubted she would've been as well.
"It's considered rude to lie as well, my Lady, but alas, we are at an impasse." The Fat Man giggled. He hid his chubby hands within his wide sleeves. The Man didn't look, nor did he dress like a Westerosi. Yet, at the same time, she got an air of restrained lethality from him. She was able to pick out a few vaugely shaped bulges in his pockets that hinted at weapons, and she noticed how carefully he controlled his body language. Obviously this was no stranger to violence.
Weiss raised a single eyebrow. "It's also considered rude not to introduce yourself before a Lady."
The Fat Man smiled and bowed at the hip ever so slightly. "My apologies, Lady Lannister, I had simply heard so much about you over the years, and had grown excited to meet the White Lion of Lannisport. I am Varys, please, do not worry yourself over my intentions. I am but a simple, overexcited eunuch."
Ah, so this was the infamous Spider that Weiss had heard so much and so little about throughout the years. Keeping her own mask, a polite smile, Weiss made sure to stay on guard. Obviously, he had arranged this meeting, but to what purpose?
"No, I should be the one to apologize, Lord Varys." Weiss bowed her head and gave a polite courtesy. "It is my first time outside of Lannisport without my family, I miss them very much."
Lord Varys removed his hands from his sleeves and shook them with reddening cheeks. "Please! I'm no Lord, just a humble servant of the Crown."
Weiss kept her head bowed as she hid a smirk. It was easy to see through such faux-humility. As the Master-of-Whispers upon King Robert's Small Council, Varys was one of the realm's most powerful men, and he knew that very well. Still, what would he want with her? She was a simple Lannister of Lannisport.
"I am sure my Lady is comforted by the presence of Lord Tywin, as a fellow Lannister under his protection." Lord Varys continued speaking in that soft tone that reminded her of when Winter was around, usually before she verbally eviscerated someone.
"Lord Tywin cares deeply for his family." Weiss agreed outwardly. The old man cared about the Lannister name rather than any specific family member. Still, it was useful, and could be plotted around, if need be.
Lord Varys smiled again in agreement. "My apologies, again, if I startled Lady Weiss. I only wished to ask if you would like to accompany me and stroll through the gardens. The Queen has a fine taste, importing them from the Westerlands and the Reach."
She would prefer not to, yet Weiss also didn't need to make an enemy of the Spider, or get on his wrong side. If he wished, he could frame her for some crime, or look too deeply into Weiss' source of power. On the other hand, she could use an ally within the Red Keep. The Queen didn't seem to like her, so having the Master of Whispers on her side could be useful.
"Of course, my Lord." Weiss bowed her head once more as she hid a glare behind a mask of politeness. "I am glad you are a eunuch, for no onlooker can question my purity, as my sworn knight is not here as my witness." She would use Lord Varys, but she was sure she would never be able to trust him. Nor, she suspected, would he do the same.
After all, she never told him her name.
A/N
Another chapter out quickly, Night-Stalker has been a big help. Wouldn't have made it this far without his help.
Soon it'll be time for Weiss' tourney debut.
Also, the previous chapter was renamed 3-1 to avoid any confusion.
- Location
- State of Confusion
Just say her name a couple more times, Weiss, and she just might show up!
3-3
Weiss
The gardens of the Red Keep were as nice as Lord Varys had described, though the flowers weren't exactly Weiss' favorites. The gardens were designed to be as gaudy and flamboyant as possible, to show off the Crown's wealth and the Queen's expensive taste, which was ironic, as Tywin was the one funding the whole affair. Weiss had honestly expected that the Queen was Lord Tywin's only daughter, and as the richest man in all Seven Kingdoms, it was natural if Queen Cersei ended up a bit spoiled. Weiss had been that way back on Remnant, before Beacon, before she made friends that helped her to change into a better person, even if it did take some time and effort on her part. She had to learn to stop saying Faunus related slurs under her breath whenever Sun annoyed her, or when they ended up fighting the White Fang.
"You did not seem surprised that I knew who you were, my Lady." Lord Varys said with a soft voice as they walked through the garden, admiring the objectively pretty aesthetic. He walked beside her, around a foot away, so as to keep up the facade of him respecting Weiss as a noble lady.
"You are the Master-of-Whisperers, my Lord, it is your duty to know the dealings of the realm, is it not?" Weiss gave him a glance out of the corner of her eyes. For all his soft appearances and effeminate mannerisms, she still felt an air of restrained lethality off him.
"It is." He giggled. "Yet there is much I don't know. Sometimes, even the birds cannot reach the highest crag, their poor wings give out before they can reach the top."
Ah, so his spies couldn't find much information about her. That made some sense, the Westerlands were located at the far side of Westeros, opposite the Crownlands. Weiss wasn't as well known outside of the Lannister heartland, after all, she hadn't competed in any tourneys yet and her feats had been during the Greyjoy Rebellion and in the training yard. Add in the near iron fisted control of Lord Tywin, and even the Spider might find it hard to seek answers about her.
"Some birds use the wind to reach the mountaintop, yet that is still a risk. They might crash into the rocks and die." Weiss gave him a controlled smile. "The Seven have truly blessed us, for we are not birds to bounce around according to the wind's whim."
"Indeed." Lord Varys seemed amused as they paused in front of a rose bush. The lush green clashed with the vibrant red, as he bent down to sniff one of the flowers. "These were a gift from House Tyrell, for Queen Cersei's nameday."
"They're beautiful." Weiss said, widening her eyes on purpose. She had a role to play, that of a naive, pious girl. That, and to be fair, they were quite beautiful. She certainly could see why the Reach had gifted them to the Queen.
"Beautiful, yes, but I would never dare to grab one." Lord Varys dramatically took a step back. "They have thorns you see, and my skin is so very soft, and I faint at the mere sight of blood."
He was trying to lower her guard, Weiss noticed. Why else would he approach her when she was without her guards?
"If you enjoy the fragrance of a rose, you must be prepared to accept the thorns which it bears." Weiss said, quoting from the Seven-Pointed Star. On top of his mannerisms, she suspected this was old hat to him, after all, the big strong men of Westeros would never view a weak, seemingly effeminate man as a threat anytime soon.
"Baelor the Blessed?" Lord Varys asked, one eyebrow raised, in what someone might mistake for curiosity. Hm, so now he was trying to paint himself as being ignorant of the Seven. He may very well have, once upon a time, but he'd been here for a couple of decades at this point. She'd eat Kalimeris if he truly didn't pay attention to something as massive as the local Faith.
"The Seven-Pointed Star." Weiss corrected. "Would my Lord care to join me the next time I pray? I visit every seven days to offer seven prayers."
"Lovely." Lord Varys took another step, heading towards the shade the fruit trees offered. Weiss followed his lead, interested in what his endgame was here. "I will endeavor to make room in my busy schedule. I serve at the Crown's convenience, so I fear it may be later rather than sooner."
Weiss was about to speak, when her ears perked up at the sound of rustling amongst the flower bushes. The duo paused for a second, as a small shadow emerged from the flower bushes. Lord Varys took a small step back in faux-concern, which made Weiss sigh internally.
A black cat with bright yellow eyes stood in their path, giving them an uninterested look. It was fat, either having found a patron or a secret entrance into the pantry, and yawned, continuing its journey to the bushes that sat on the other side of the path. Yet, despite its size, it moved with such grace, one would easily mistake it for being a far more lean animal.
"Ah, why hello there, Blake." Lord Varys took a few steps forward once again just as the cat disappeared into the bushes, the last thing being visible was its tail flicking in response to someone calling its name. Weiss' eyes widened slowly in shock as she paused midstep. Blake? Was her dear old friend reborn as a cat? Or was this a coincidence? She recovered quickly, though Weiss was still shaken on the inside.
"A strange name for a cat." Weiss said out loud, feigning ignorance. Her eyes stared at the bushes where the cat disappeared. She swore she could see a yellow glimmer in the bushes, before it disappeared once more.
"She is one of Prince Tommen's favorites, the boy loves animals you see, and the cat was a gift from one of his cousins." Lord Varys explained with a giggle. "The Queen had been enraged that Lady Baratheon chose one of that color."
Black cats were a symbol of bad luck according to the Seven, gifting such a cat could be considered an insult or a threat. Yet, whatever internal power struggles the Royal Family had was none of Weiss' business. There were still people who would say Princess Rhaeny's fate had been sealed once she'd been gifted the kitten she wound up naming Balerion.
"I see." Weiss placed a finger on the tip of her chin. "I must offer Seven prayers, to prevent any misfortune from occurring. May I have your leave, my Lord?" She didn't need to pray, but given she had known a man whose Semblance was literally bad luck, it couldn't hurt. And Weiss also needed time to gather her thoughts and adjust her plans.
"Of course, my Lady. I enjoyed our stroll, as brief as it was." Lord Varys smiled with his eyes. "We should have another soon, before you return to Lannisport." That likely wouldn't happen, Weiss was going to be far too busy. And if need be, she would find something to occupy her. Hmm, maybe she should visit the Great Sept? Further reinforce her image as being pious before the melee?
She gave the Master-of-Whisperers a bow with a calculated smile. "That sounds lovely, Lord Varys."
Lovely and dangerous.
Stannis Baratheon
Lannisters were an annoyance to deal with, King's Landing was crawling with them, to the point he swore they outnumbered the rats. Even before Lord Tywin arrival a few days before, Red Cloaks outnumbered the men of the Vale, the Hand's very guards as well as the swords from the Narrow Sea that Stannis brought and the Stormland men-at-arms that Renly surrounded himself with. The Goldcloaks didn't even enter into this equation, as they would more or less fight for whoever offered the most gold, in this case, the Lannisters. The Royal Court was filled with ambitious lions, snakes and parasites, despite Stannis' best attempts to keep them out. It was Robert's and Jon Arryn's fault, they had invited in the Lions, placed Renly as the Master of Laws, and Jon had handpicked an old friend of his wife's, 'lord' Petyr Baelish as the Master of Coin, after a short stint as a customs collector. Yet, that didn't mean Stannis would shrink back from doing his duty, even if he was just the Master-of-Ships. He would hold the realm together, even if he was the only one holding the ropes.
"You summoned me, Lord Hand?" Stannis said with gritted teeth as he stood before Jon Arryn. The Tower of the Hand was one of the few places in the Red Keep, no, in all of King's Landing, where they could have a conversation without the Spider's or Littlefinger's spies lingering about. Probably. The Master-of-Ships arrived with a report about the execution of several deserters from the Royal Fleet, Littlefinger's men, if he had to guess, based on their attitudes and general interest. The Spider and Lord Baelish had been trying to put spies on Dragonstone for years, to no avail, thanks to Malora and Melisandre.
"Lord Stannis." The Lord Hand said in greeting, not bothering to look up from the old tome that he had been reading. The Lord of the Vale was a busy man, ruling the realm while Robert whored and drank, and organized yet another tourney to keep his king content. He could respect the man's devotion to duty, if nothing else. "The blacksmith bastard was the spitting image of Robert, was he not?"
Why would he bring this up now while Lord Tywin was still in King's Landing? Stannis may not care for politics, but even he knew that making a move with so many lords of the Westerlands present was a bad move, even if more Valemen, Stormlords and Riverlords were due to arrive to compete in Joffrey's nameday tourney, the little shit. Of course, at the same time, doing it with everyone of import here would certainly disgrace the Lannisters for making his brother wear the horns of a cuckold.
"He was." Stannis answered plainly. The bastard looked more like Robert's son than his own welp by Cersei. That had been what had first caught his attention, especially after he thought about it some. "As did the others, the girls."
"And your own wife's hair is light and golden like a Lannister? Yet Lady Blake and Lady Shireen were born black of hair." The Lord Hand continued, looking up from the tome with cold eyes. The tome was a fat book, looking more akin to a shield than a collection of pages, even if it showed its age in the gray cover and faded lettering of the author's name on the binding.
"Indeed." Stannis remained standing. His daughters would arrive for the tourney in a few days, despite his wish that they remain on Dragonstone where it was safer. Of course, at the same time, it would not draw attention by acting like he suspected something was amiss. He knew the rumors of the Court, and he wasn't about to feed them.
"Joffrey, Tommen and Myrcella have the Lannister look." The Lord Hand turned back to the tome, turning a page as he did so. "Yet every child with Baratheon blood has been born with dark hair."
They remained in silence for a few seconds, when Stannis spoke. "We must tell Robert, you must be the one to tell him the truth." Whatever his faults, Robert was his brother and his king. He deserved to hear the truth.
Lord Jon shook his head. "Not now, Robert's temper would overtake him and he'll demand the Queen's head, along with those of the children. Lord Tywin would never allow it." Left unsaid was that King's Landing was ill prepared for a possible fight with the Lannisters already in their midst. This, alas, needed to be handled delicately, less the Kingdoms tear themselves apart in the throes of another Dance.
"After the tourney then, when Lord Tywin departs." Stannis suggested. The moment the tourney ended, he would put Blake and Shireen on the first galley back to Dragonstone, with Davos at the helm.
"That would be for the best." Lord Jon agreed. "I shall instruct Renly to expand the City Guard, and bring more men from the Vale as reinforcements."
If they handled this the wrong way, thousands would die. As it were, hundreds were likely to die. Lord Tywin was a prideful man, and would not take this humiliation lying down, regardless of who was to blame or not.
"I will see the opinions of my Lords, and if needed a raven will be sent North. Ned hasn't been south in years, but he would never refuse a summon." Lord Jon continued. Ah yes, the Stark he had fostered alongside Robert, the one that he loved more than his own brothers. "We will need his help to ensure the Lannisters don't rise in revolt."
A foolish idea, summoning the Tully's would've been a better idea as the Riverlands bordered the Westerlands, yet there was little Stannis could do whenever Eddard Stark was mentioned. Jon Arryn was stubborn in that way. He supposed Eddard Stark being uninvolved in the local political scene did lend a certain advantage to him stepping in, even if he would take too long to arrive. Stannis just hoped this wasn't about to be a repeat of the Hour of the Wolf.
"If he does, we'll smash him in the field." Stannis said, his voice low and dark. He would do whatever it took to keep the peace, even if it cost the lives of Cersei's bastard children. "The Faith can take the girl, and the Wall for Tommen." Joffrey, the spoiled brat, would likely choose the sword over freezing at the Wall.
Lord Jon gave him a curt nod, closing the tome shut with an ominous thud. "For the realm."
For duty.
A/N
Butterflies are butterflying, looks like Jon found the book a bit early.
Next chapter we will reach 100k words!
A reference to Volume 9 where Blake meets her younger self who ask her if she choose to be human or a cat.
And no worries, Weiss Lannister. You will see Blake Baratheon soon and she would say something only you'd recognize back from Remnant.
Oh boy, the War of the Five Kings is coming sooner than expected. Can't wait to see how this unfold differently compared to canon.
- Location
- Europe
Hmm, not necessarily. If Jon Arryn doesn't get murdered thanks to the butterflies - or the murder is planned for its canon time, i.e. now too late - Robert might well learn of things early enough to derail things fully. Both by openly declaring Joffrey et al. bastards and making Stannis his official heir (which might also mend the rift between them!), and then actually bringing down a united (or nigh-united) Seven Kingdoms on the Lannisters.
In that scenario, a War of the Five Kings doesn't seem likely to happen soon - especially as Varys and friends probably don't want it yet, as it still much too early for their plans.
god youre just teasing us at this point
- Location
- La Serena, Chile
I wonder if something happened that Made Jon and Stannis to figure our the whole Incest mess earlier than canon
Maybe Jon will survive up to when the conflicto starts, or Baelish may trigger alongside Lysa their assassination attempt earlier than expected, making it More clumsy
Maybe Jon will survive up to when the conflicto starts, or Baelish may trigger alongside Lysa their assassination attempt earlier than expected, making it More clumsy
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- Pronouns
- He/Him/His
The first thing that comes to mind would be Blake's eyes.
Stannis is unpopular enough that someone would try starting rumors and he is the sort that would want citable evidence to the contrary.
For his own peace of mind too even.
3-4
Weiss
The tourney for Prince Joffrey's twelfth nameday was much larger and grander than the one Lord Tywin threw at the end of the Greyjoy Rebellion, just outside Lannisport. The tourney grounds, a city of tents just outside of King's Landing, felt like an entirely different beast when compared to the capital of the Seven Kingdoms. Arm in arm with Alysanne Lefford, Weiss allowed herself to smile as they strolled past the different booths full of merchants selling their trinkets. Weiss loved shopping, even here in this world where everything had to be handmade and were likely covered in imperfections. In her mind, that just added some character to them, anyone could pick out something perfect.
"Rosamund would love this one." Alysanne said with a soft smile. They were looking at a booth filled with jewelry and hair pins from Dorne, or at least that's what the merchant claimed. Standing a few feet away behind them were Cedric and Pod, dressed in their finest red leathers with the sigil of House Payne sewn onto their breast. She pointed towards a hair pin that looked like a seahorse, the symbol of Mother's Velaryon blood.
"It's pretty." Weiss' eyes scanned the silver pin carefully. It was a pretty thing, with two small sapphire gems in the place of eyes. She turned to the merchant, a tanned man with light brown hair, whose eyes had narrowed upon seeing Weiss's lion logo on her clothes. "How much?"
"A silver stag for two, my Lady." The Merchant answered with a bow of his head. He was likely charging a higher price than usual due to the tourney, but Weiss wasn't in the mood to barter. Besides, she could afford it.
"I'll take it." Weiss motioned Pod closer with her free hand. He carried a bag with a couple stags, since Weiss preferred to carry her own money. Her two idiot Payne's were rather clumsy, and she'd prefer not losing most of her gold dragons. "And this one as well."
Weiss pointed at a broach that was forged into the shape of a roaring lion, with two small emeralds for eyes. It was an impressive piece of metalworking, and would make for an excellent gift, if need be. The Dornish man nodded and grabbed the seahorse pin and the lion broach carefully, extending his arms in Pod's direction, who handed him the stag.
"Thank you for your business, M'Ladies." The Merchant bowed his head as Pod handed the broach and pin to Weiss' lone waiting hand, Alysanne was tightly holding onto the other. Evidently Alysanne was still a bit nervous, especially among such large crowds, but that was OK. Weiss was a good friend to her, and Cedric was armed.
"Rosamund will like this." Weiss said simply with a smile. She handed the pin to Cedric, who placed it in a handbag that he had slung around his shoulder, and turned her attention to the broach. Now that she was looking closer at it, she was impressed with the craftsmanship. It was a lion standing on its two hind legs, the tiny emerald eyes shining in the sunlight. "And this reminds me of your eyes, Alysanne."
The Lefford girl's cheeks turned a shade of red as she looked away. Sliding her arm out of Alysanne's grip, Weiss carefully attached the broach to her friend's dress.
"You are very kind, Weiss." Alysanne said softly. Why was she being so shy? The Lefford's, while not the richest family in the Westerlands, were one of the most influential and powerful houses. The Golden Tooth was a heavily fortified castle that guarded one of the main entrances into the Westerlands, and Lord Lefford was one of Lord Tywin's closest confidants outside the family.
"Nonsense." Weiss smirked as she adjusted the broach so it wouldn't look crooked. "Now all will know that you belong to the lions." She winked at Alysanne, who blushed in response. She didn't get why, it was just adjusting a broach.
"O-Of course, Weiss." Alysanne formed a small smile. Her friend had been engaged to Robert Brax, Father's former squire, who had earned his knighthood the year before. Ser Robert was a good choice, he came from a powerful family, was a second son, and knew Alysanne extremely well. They had all grown up together in the Gold Keep, and had gotten along fine. She was happy for them, since she knew she was going to be known as the Maiden Widow for the rest of her days at this rate. She was just going to be herself with an entire castle full of cats at this rate.
"Good." Weiss grabbed hold of Alysanne's arm once more. "Now come, Daven is competing in the archery contest and I wish to cheer him on."
"Very well." Alysanne, the taller of the two girls, pulled Weiss even closer as they walked into the crowd of smallfolk and nobles. Behind her, she could hear the sound of her dolt Paynes following, and smiled.
Why did she feel like she was being watched?
The archery grounds set up for the tournament weren't quite what Weiss expected. Sure, there were stands for the audience to sit in and watch, along with the assorted food carts and stalls, but she was expecting something a bit more dramatic. Instead, it was almost simple, a clearly staked out patch of grass with lanes marked by rope, and at the end, there was a series of roughly man-sized targets, obviously training dummies stuffed with straw. Said targets had been given kite shields covering most of their chest, complete with a Targaryen Dragon in red on the front, and she could just make out some smaller, more colorful distortions on the targets. Obviously the goal was to score the most points by hitting some targets, and, as she thought about it, they were well-placed. The eyes, a weak spot near the heart, and even, weirdly enough, the knee.
It looked modern, well, more modern compared to the average archery contest. Weiss had attended a few back in the Westerlands, and this was easily the largest of them. Weiss and Alysanne took a seat near the front of the audience stands, not wanting to get their dresses stuck on the benches corners should they want to sit higher up. Cedric and Pod sat directly behind them, using a Lannister sigil sewn opposite the one of House Payne to move a few minor noble ladies. Lower ranking Lannister she may have been, Weiss was still kin to Lord Tywin and the King, which earned her more than a few glares and stares. Nobody was willing to act though, not openly at least.
"It looks like we got here in time." Alysanne commented. She smoothed the skirt of her dress and gave the competitors a glance. There were dozens of them, the noblemen wearing clothes with the sigils of their houses, and the commoners with plain clothing. She could see and recognize sigils from all across Westeros, with a particular lean towards the Westerlands, Stormlands and Riverlands, oddly enough. Houses such as Freemount, Foote, Errol, Frey, or even Selmy, all competing for a fat purse as a reward,
"Indeed." Weiss scanned the competitors for a glance of Daven, and made sure he didn't back out. The archery and ax-throwing contest were being held today, though the Royal Family wouldn't be attending, leaving more room for more attendees for such a minor event. The melee would be the following day, starting after everyone broke their fast, and then the joust would be on the final day of the tourney after that.
Weiss' armor and a blunted version of Kalimeris were already prepared for the melee. It made her anxious, since she was about to reveal her skills to a much larger group of people, and not just the observers at the training yard. All the years she'd spent training and her reputation were on the line. If she failed, well, she refused to think about such a fate.
"Will you be competing in the joust, Ser Cedric?" Alysanne asked, angling her head to give the Knight of Payne a look. Weiss could tell he gave her friend a grimace without having to turn around. She knew exactly how he'd react, and could already imagine it.
"I will try, Lady Alysanne." Cedric said sheepishly. Weiss had been the one who forced him to sign up for the lists, even if he was going to embarrass himself, at least Cedric was going to give it his all. Or get knocked into the dirt by the Kingslayer or the Knight of Flowers, who Weiss still hadn't seen a glimpse of.
"Do or do not, there is no such thing as try." Weiss shot her sworn sword a glare out of the corner of her eyes. Cedric remained unaffected and gave her a smug smirk. He was likely going to allow himself to lose on purpose. Well, in that case, the poor man was going to have to undergo some remedial sparring, once they returned home.
"None have said wiser words." A familiar voice interrupted them. Cousin Tyrion waddled into view with a Red Cloak behind him, a man named Jyck if Weiss remembered correctly. A heavyset man who, oddly enough, didn't seem to mind working around Tyrion, and had no small talent with a blade.
And he was the man who helped Cousin Tyrion procure whores during their journey. Cousin Daven had more than a few stories about their misadventures. The one with the goat herd, that innkeeper, and the traveling band of minstrels was certainly scandalous, but no less humorous, to hear. And Jyck often forgot to tell the whores he hired that they were to service a dwarf.
"Cousin Tyrion!" Weiss exclaimed as the infamous Imp placed a chaste kiss upon her cheek. He placed one upon Alysanne's hand and gave Pod a wink. To be fair, he was rather charming, even with his unsettling reputation and near constant odor of wine.
"Please pardon my tardiness, I was placing bets on our dear Coz." Tyrion took the seat beside Alysanne, which made a lady in Piper colors scoot away and whisper under her breath. "I will be a much poorer dwarf should Daven lose. Still, at least I will recoup my money once you win the melee on the morrow."
"A Lannister dwarf is still richer than most of the realm." Weiss jabbed as Alysanne leaned backwards so she could get a better view of Tyrion. The Lefford squeezed Weiss' hand gently.
"True, but my ego will be poorer." Tyrion countered. "My poor pride."
Any retort Weiss may have had was cut off by the sound of the trumpeteers blowing their horns and the standard bearers waving the flags of House Baratheon, the crowned stag dancing in the wind above the other sigils. Rolling her eyes with a small smile, Weiss turned her attention to the competitors.
Daven made it to the semi-finals when a commoner beat him, and Cousin Tyrion became a much poorer dwarf.
A/N
A shorter chapter to end the work week on after updating almost everyday. Thank you to everyone who has been supporting the story! With this chapter we now have over 100k words done.
Night and I never expected to make it this far, and soon hope to reach 200k and beyond. We have big plans in store, with twists and turns.
The finished edited version of this chapter will be posted tomorrow.
I see a Star Wars reference there and Weiss should get Tyrion dress up in robes and green make up to look like Yoda, lol.
Cedric: "Don't threaten me with a good time."
Tyrion tempted fate, lol. At least he's a good sport.
"And I took that personally." - Cersei definitely as she hated Weiss in first sight and think the latter is the younger queen who will overthrow her in the prophecy.
3-5
The Red Priest
There were many things one could say about Robert Baratheon. At one point, he had been one of the finest warriors in all the Seven Kingdoms, King Robert had proved that during his rebellion against King Aerys, and again during the Greyjoy Rebellion. Could the same still be said? Robert had grown fat and lazy, but he was still a magnificent man, he still had that charm and charisma that came to him. The Baratheon King ate, drank and fucked like there was no tomorrow, as if the Great Other itself was chasing after him. Thoros could not have asked for a better friend. Groaning softly, the Myrish man sat up from his bed, pushing the slender arms that tried to hold him back away. He had no need for a whore now, there was a melee to be won just after sunrise.
Sliding on his trousers and a wool shirt over his fat belly, Thoros stood up, cracking his back as he stretched. Several candles lit the room, forming shadows that seemed to move as Thoros stretched and the whore in his bed shifted, missing the warmth he brought to her.
"I need another drink." Thoros grumbled lowly as he scratched his belly. The kitchens were likely closed, the maids having gone to sleep despite the hoard of guests that were staying within the Red Keep. Perhaps there were leftovers from the grand feast King Robert had thrown last night? Something to fill his stomach until it was time to break his fast. He didn't need much, just something to fill his hunger.
"What you need to do is lose weight." A low, feminine and mysterious voice murmured into his ear. Thoros swung his head around to give the whore a glare, yet the mousy woman was snoring, fast asleep after a very enjoyable and tiring night for both of them. She turned over, her eyes closed shut. "How disappointing." The voice continued, speaking the common tongue in a Tyroshi accent.
Thoros narrowed his eyes as his hands went to his waistline, in an attempt to grab a knife that wasn't there, attached to his belt that was thrown about in his hurry to get undressed. If this was some assassin, he was vulnerable, or so it would appear. He was an old drunkard of a fool, but he would not go easily. Thoros was a champion of many melees, and a slayer of squids. Robert had given him an honorary knighthood after the Siege of Pyke, since he had been the first through the broken walls.
"Why are you fearful? The night is dark and full of terrors, yet the Lord of Light will brighten our path. His flames shall extinguish the darkness." The whisper continued to speak to him, yet unlike when he used to hear voices, these were far clearer and easier to understand.
Thoros whipped his head around the room, scanning for the source of the voice, until his dark eyes landed upon the shadow of a woman sitting near one of his chairs at the far corner. The shadow was visible only through the small fire that lit the nearby candle, her features unrecognizable. One of his brethren? The priestess that Stannis Baratheon had taken in on Dragonstone?
"What do you want?" Thoros croaked. Was he being recalled back to Volantis? He had failed to convert two kings, while the Red Woman Stannis Baratheon took in somehow managed to get a foothold on Dragonstone. If so, this was strange, why would they use a shadowbinder as a messenger? Admittedly, to be fair to Thoros, he was getting along great with Robert, far more than with Aerys, so he was at least making some progress. The two were great friends, and often drank together.
"Simply to remind you of your duty." The Shadow said cheerfully. It took all of his concentration to notice the Shadow stand up from the chair. Whoever it was, they were as small as a child. Did they have no shame? Making a child into a Shadowbinder? Even for them, that was low. "R'hllor shall remember your efforts, even if progress is slow. The smallest ember can turn into the brightest of flames. Melisandre understands this, so you must as well."
With that, the Shadow disappeared, the darkness shattering like glass until only Thoros' shadow remained. The fat man ran his hand through his beard and sat upon the edge of the bed in thought.
"W-Who was that, m'lord?" The Whore finally spoke, her voice sleepy and tired. Thoros continued staring at where the Shadow had been, evidently another servant of R'hllor. He rubbed the top of his freshly shaven head, his sweat dripping down into the corner of his lips. This changed everything for him.
After what felt like an eternity, Thoros turned to the Whore and gave her a smile that went unnoticed in the darkness. "Would you care to join me in prayer?"
He needed to light a fire.
Stannis Baratheon
Tourneys were a waste of funds and time. At least, with feasting, there was a purpose to it. Here, all tourneys did was show that one could put on a good show in front of the smallfolk, and burn money. If they truly wanted to prove their skill with the sword and lance, why not go out hunting some bandits? Stannis regularly took the Royal Fleet to the Stepstones to hang pirates, it was a good training exercise, and let him blood his new sailors. Tourneys were expensive, and Robert's taste had been growing in price, with each subsequent one having a greater and greater winner's purse.
Despite his personal feelings on such trivial and worthless events, Blake and Shireen seemed to enjoy them, traveling from Dragonstone to attend and see which knight or lord would be the champion of the joust or melee. Stannis attended for their sake, as he was generally top busy ruling the realm with Jon Arryn to normally attend. If nothing else, it was nice to spend time with his daughters, a simpler time, being able to not worry about politics or logistics or anything.
"You seem to have much on your mind, Father." Blake spoke softly as they walked the grounds, heading towards the Royal Box which was in view, decorated with yellow and black flags with the Baratheon stag, topped with a crown. Ser Richard Horpe and Ser Rolland Storm followed closely behind as their guards. Shireen had wandered off with Ser Davos and Ser Waymar, much to Stannis' relief. The less time she spent around the royal cunt Joffrey the better. The day he took the throne would truly be a dark day, if he didn't shape up fast. That viper Cersei cucked his brother, and didn't even have the decency to raise a halfway decent boy.
"I do." Stannis admitted. His dark blue eyes scanned the surrounding area, as the nobles seemed to avoid him. Good, his reputation at least ensured he would have some privacy for this bit. "You and Shireen shall return to Dragonstone overmorrow, at first light, on the Sea Snake, once the tourney is over."
"Ser Aurane's ship? Why not the Black Bertha? Or Alysanne's Folly?" Blake questioned, bringing up the ships captained by Ser Davos and her Uncle, Ser Garth Hightower. She was a sharp girl, even for her age. "Is something amiss?"
"They both have other duties to complete." Stannis deflected. Ser Davos would be delivering Robert Arryn, the son of the Lord Hand, to Dragonstone on a separate galley, along with some of the more valuable items in the household and those staff members who could slip away. The Spider's, Littlefinger, and Lannister spies would be too preoccupied with keeping an eye on Stannis' goodbrother to notice the Onion Knight slip away in the early dawn. "I shall tell you the details once it is safe to do so, there are too many ears here, spiders and rats are everywhere."
Fostering the heir to the Vale had been Jon Arryn's idea, as a way to keep the boy safe should the Lannister's retaliate once the Queen and her children had been deposed. Blake was capable of taking care of herself, Stannis knew that very well, she often sparred against the Tarth girl, and was skilled as any knight under his command. And well, nobody would expect a little slip of a girl to be able to wield a sword, so she would have that advantage.
Blake frowned as she turned her attention forward. She wore a black dress that left her collarbone exposed, with a necklace that featured the Baratheon stag dangling from a silver chain. "Be careful, Father. I still have much to learn from you before I become the Lady of Dragonstone." She should've been the future Lady of Storm's End, not of a worthless island in the Narrow Sea. A darker side of him thought she might well be that. Renly wasn't about to settle down with any ladies, preferring the company of men, and with Robert not having any trueborn children, so she might get the spot by default.
Stannis grunted in response as they approached the entrance to the Royal Box. An auburn haired woman stormed out, shrieking at the top of her lungs. It took a second for him to recognize her as Lysa Arryn, Jon's wife. Normally, she was a mercurial woman, going from being outspoken and bold, to quiet and timid, in little time. This time, she seemed to be fixed on one mood, namely being outraged. "You won't take him! I won't allow it!"
Lysa Arryn was followed by a knight with a falcon broach and blue cape. She briefly paused when she caught sight of Stannis and Blake, shooting them a dirty and nasty glare. "I won't let you and that witch take my SweetRobyn, I won't allow it!" She turned and stomped off, ignoring the Vale Knight that was following her.
It seemed the Lord Hand chose a bad moment to tell his wife about his decision to foster the boy on Dragonstone. Stannis silently started to grind his teeth. This was likely going to make things difficult. Worse come to it, they would just drag her along as well, but he supposed that Lord Jon wouldn't like that.
"What was she talking about, Father?" Blake asked as they approached Ser Arys Oakheart, who guarded the entrance, the only knight of the Kingsguard that was worthy of the white cloak aside from Ser Barristan himself. He allowed them through without a word, obviously not keen on getting involved in whatever mess is happening.
"Lord Arryn wishes for me to foster his son on Dragonstone. He worries that the boy will grow into a weak man with his Mother coddling him." Stannis easily told the lie that had been agreed upon. It had the benefit of being fairly true, no less. The boy was overdue to be fostered, and it would make sense for Lord Jon to return the favor, given he'd fostered Robert when he was a child.
Blake's eyes widened slowly, and she gave him a curt nod. She didn't get along with Robert, who twitched whenever he caught sight of her. Many at court were wary of her, for her amber colored eyes that reminded many of a cat. However, whether that was prejudice, or simply because his daughter was a free-spirited girl who didn't take anything lying down, he was uncertain. "I see."
Any further conversation would have to be held later, the Royal Box was full. Robert sat on a throne with the Lannister wench by his left side. She had an unhappy look upon her pale face, which darkened once she caught sight of Stannis and Blake. Lord Tywin and Prince Joffrey sat beside her, and Littlefinger beside him. Jon Arryn and Renly sat to Robert's right, along with a few other empty chairs.
"Stannis! We were just talking about you." Renly said with a sardonic smile. "Well, our Lord Hand and Lady Arryn were." The Lord Hand formed a grimace. To be fair, Stannis was puzzled as well. Why wouldn't Lysa mind her son leaving King's Landing? The place was mired in filth in more than one sense of the word, and he'd be safe from the Lannisters at least.
"About time you arrive." Robert grumbled, his beard hiding his several chins, which were steadily growing. Gods, Robert had grown fat with age on that throne. Fat, dumb, and ignorant, no less. The court was rapidly giving way to the Lannisters, and he cared not but for the next whore or tourney, regardless of the cost. Was this how Aemon Targaryen felt when his brother began to be known as the Unworthy? "Come, Blake, and greet your uncle."
"As you command, your Grace." Blake said, detaching her arm from Stannis' and giving the Lannisters a polite bow. Good, she ignored Littlefinger, who winked in Stannis' direction. Stannis resisted the urge to strangle the upjumped coin counter, an urge he swore, one day, he would give into. Blake gave Robert's hairy and fat cheek a chaste kiss.
"Good girl. You raised a fine one here, Stannis." Robert said as Blake moved to sit next to Renly, presenting him with another chaste kiss on his own clean-shaven cheek. "She has your hair, but her Mother's beauty." His fat eldest brother downed the rest of his wine that sat in his goblet, some of which dribbled onto his beard.
"Now sit down, you're blocking my view." Robert waved him off. Stannis silently went to his seat beside Blake, ignoring Cersei and Littlefinger's stares. They were up to something, they had to have noticed Lysa's outburst and then how she'd reacted to his arrival, and likely suspected something.
At least a hundred lords and knights had gathered upon the field where the melee would be held, with bannermen from the Riverlands, Vale, Westerlands, Stormlands, and the Reach attending. Stannis frowned when he spotted the sigils of House Frey, of which there were more than a few. The Late Walder Frey was trying to make people believe they were a truly honorable house, or at least more than some upjumped extortionists once more, it seemed. Judging by the inverted colors of some, many of his bastards were competing.
After drinking another pitcher of Arbor Red and at least half a turkey on his own, Robert finally stood up from his makeshift throne, groaning and wheezing as he did so. He approached the edge of the box, much to the cheers of the nobles and smallfolk watching.
"Go on already! Fight before I piss myself." Robert laughed, waving his goblet in the air and spilling drops onto his velvet shirt, which made Stannis grind his teeth even more. So much for the dignity of the King and realm. At this rate, he'd expect Robert to have a whore serving him during the next tourney, regardless of the audience.
"The whole realm has already seen you piss yourself, several times." Renly mumbled under his breath, with a false smile upon his face. Blake chastised her uncle, who waved her off with another smile and changed the conversation with a joke. Stannis remained silent as he turned his attention to the makeshift battlegrounds.
It was hard to believe those two were his brothers.
A/N
The chess pieces are in position. We are now about three months from the Starks canon start in A Game of Thrones when they find the direwolves.
Lysa Tully (she doesn't deserve the Arynn surname at all) makes Cersei look self-restrained with that flippant attitude.
No wonder there was an actual cat named after Blake Baratheon in the previous chapter ago. And I have a feeling that it might be a foreshadowing of her Faunus side showing itself.
- Location
- Russia
Yes. Yes! YES! The fated meeting is at hand! I wonder when Blake recognize Weiss? Will she be unable to see her face because of helmet?
What if Blake got called away before Weiss can place a laurel upon her head as a queen of beauty?
P.S. eagerly waiting for Cersei to explode when Weiss win))
P.S.S. will Weiss greet Toros and his flame sword with "Finally! A worthy opponent!"
What if Blake got called away before Weiss can place a laurel upon her head as a queen of beauty?
P.S. eagerly waiting for Cersei to explode when Weiss win))
P.S.S. will Weiss greet Toros and his flame sword with "Finally! A worthy opponent!"
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- Location
- Europe
Hmm, wonder who the Red Woman is. Melisandre seems unlikely, given the line about them being a child. This implies we're looking at an insert-character, as we know of no canon equivalent.
The thing is, WB are spoken for, and R is likely with the Tyrells. It could be Y, but that frankly feels a bit OOC. Still, given I burn, it would make some thematic sense. Cinder would be much more fitting - fire is both her name and her semblance - but at least canonically, she doesn't fall. Could be different here, of course.
EDIT:
I just realized - if we're assuming other participants of that combat other than RWBY (and maybe Jaune and Neo) might have come across, then that also makes Winter a possibility. And unlike Ruby, I could very much see Winter resorting to murder to save Weiss from an unwanted marriage, especially if she has few other means. And of course, thematically, Winter being beyond the Wall (or even with the Starks and sharing their gifts) makes perfect sense.
The thing is, WB are spoken for, and R is likely with the Tyrells. It could be Y, but that frankly feels a bit OOC. Still, given I burn, it would make some thematic sense. Cinder would be much more fitting - fire is both her name and her semblance - but at least canonically, she doesn't fall. Could be different here, of course.
EDIT:
I just realized - if we're assuming other participants of that combat other than RWBY (and maybe Jaune and Neo) might have come across, then that also makes Winter a possibility. And unlike Ruby, I could very much see Winter resorting to murder to save Weiss from an unwanted marriage, especially if she has few other means. And of course, thematically, Winter being beyond the Wall (or even with the Starks and sharing their gifts) makes perfect sense.
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- Location
- La Serena, Chile
Wait. With so Little Time before the beginning of the series, wasn't already Lysa poisoning Jon by Baelish instructions?
Because I know they did it long enough for most to not think of murder by poison as cause of Death but age