5. Woe to the Woken
Gone before were the other figures but once more, you were not alone. Eyes met yours and you met blue, of the sea, of bloodied axes, and treasure ladened with turnips.
Was this the Kin you were bound to before? You feel a kin's latch to you, tethered to you as you are to it. A spirit that will not be broken, a bond that speaks leaps and bounds of what? You do not know.
Your hairs now stand on edge as your eyes turn back to the monstrous beast sitting upon an ashen throne. Now, you see its true form. You dare not to retch up your dinner but you are still, you cannot move. Of blue-stained lips and blacken-coloured eyes, dark like the wings of a crow. Wings beating in confusion which soon turns to vexation as its teeth bare to you now, a threat, a promise as you are brought to your knees with nothing but a roar.
The skies darken to grey and rain pours atop you like a dreadful plague, karma is the thought on your mind but it is stopped. The skies turn a light huing blue as the rains pettle around your shrouded blur of kin.
You see your kin's lips, a smirk. Playful even as you are taken into their hands. The two of you stare it down, for a passing glance, there's a notable glimmer in its eyes.
"You, Tommen Baratheon, dare to defy me? There is no Archdemon, what lays within your soul, what attaches itself is nothing more than a parasite. A begotten stain of power left to betters, left to those who know truth of magic." It rumbles, stepping down from its unsightly throne and you seek nothing more than to cut it in twine.
You are no friend to it, better yet, you know. There will be no salvaging of a relationship, or peaceful dreams. You are alone, you will have to forge your own path.
You are Tommen Baratheon, you are the Prince of Storm, of the Taint. You glare into this malformed demon's eyes and you feel it, the boiling blood, you do what you'd meant to have done since you settled within this body.
Conquer.
"A new development, excellent." Its voice sends shivers down your spine before you see it shimmers away in a cloud of sand. "I wish you well in the battles to come, Tommen." You look to your right, your kin stirs with you.
You hear nothing pass their lips. Yet you feel it, you are alone. This dream, this was for you both now. You do not wonder what that means, the Fade was... a vexing puzzle but here you are.
Or as the Dalish called it, the Beyond. You seat yourself in the sands, and your eyes dance between the emerald waters and the throne that sits at the tip-top of a hill. It shakes you, a piece of it remains here.
"My Prince," Moore? You glance to the left, the light shimmers again in an archway. You only share a glance to the right and see your kin with a bowed head. You feel it, the faint bite of mischief.
You have a feeling you will get to know your... partner well soon enough.
[Relationships Gained - See End of Update]
[ Traits Gained - See End of Update]
...
You wake lightly, only to see light streaming into your room once again. Courtesy of the painted glass, you adjust yourself and push yourself to the headboard.
"You're finally awake. I thought I was going to have a serving girl get a large bowl of water!" He chuckles, and the two of you take comfort in the solace of company. You only manage it for a number of minutes, or, he does before he's speaking again. "I know what you did," he murmurs to you.
You arch a brow, childlike curiosity often did get the better of you sometimes. Might as you did not look your age, there was something to be said for how your baby fat remained
"You spoke to your nuncle about your nightmares, yet you didn't mention what happened between us. I, well, I thank you, my prince. It's not all the time that someone manages to keep secrets in this blasted city." You find that he's right, you're well aware that Mother will have learned of this little talk sometime in the next five minutes.
If he can't trust you, someone he confided in, who does a Kingsguard trust?
"It's okay, Ser. It's an honour for you-" he wallops you over the head, a glower to his once playful smile. You're not sure but you definitely see a smile twitching on his lips.
He presses a hand to your shoulder, his head bumping into yours with a familiarity you'd expect from a father. "I'm not trying to honour you, my prince. You are a rare sort, regardless of what is said about you in passing." He murmurs but you catch it.
Hmm, that does put a damper on your mood but you wallow no further. Instead, you wonder if he's open to teaching you a thing or two. Your strength does not leave much to be desired, your general height. You might just be ready if he grants you that.
(Pick 1)
[] - Seek his help in training you with a Sword and Shield
[] - Seek his help in training you with a Greatsword
[] - Seek an oath? You wish to be protected by Mandon forevermore. (Very Hard DC)
[] - Have him introduce you to other members of the Kingsguard.
[] - Have him organize an adventure for you as well as a guard of chosen guards... (Very Hard DC)
You and Mandon talk for quite a while, you know its been a while since those ravens were sent out. Today will be the day, the houses of Stark, Martell and Greyjoy will have sent someone to play with you.
For one reason or another, you don't know if you are to be pampered or brought to look like a true prince but you have the right of it anyway. Soon, handmaidens, and wenches are clamouring at your locks, measuring you and all manner of beautifying things...
You're dressed in...
[] - A doublet in the colours of House Lannister, why should you not show mother some support? (???)
[] - A doublet in the colours of House Lannister and Baratheon, you are expected to represent both houses (???).
[] - A doublet in the colour of House Baratheon, your father may not be there for you but your Nuncles, you want to make an impression eventually. (???)
...
Its the thick smell of herbs, spices, and the smell of aged books that grabs your attention. The creak of the old maester's door is well enough as he glances up with a greying beard. He's looked to you now, his eyes taking you and he looks atop your head as if to see the shadow of... something.
You glance to your left and Mandon only smiles with a shrug, taking a space by a dimly lit candle.
D100 => 70
"My Prince. I wondered when I would be seeing you again." It's gravelly and stuttering, but you see his eyes. Cautious and careful before he turns back to his books.
You don't think to question him but it is of no matter, you glance about the room and take a spot next to him.
"I'm here now. Grandmaester, I wonder if you'd help with a situation I'm experiencing. Something to do with our new friends in the capital soon." You see him still for a time, he's questioning himself before a faint bob of his head gives it away. He'll allow your questions, you seethe at the thought.
He'd dare to hold things from you, were you not every bit the prince your brother was? Your scowl only deepens before you pull out a chair and seat yourself to the wisened man.
"I've heard things about the Martells and the Greyjoys, what is our history to them? I don't like the unknown being kept from me. You, a wise man with plenty of time in..." Your voice murmurs for a second, his old eyes light up again and he seems to take pity.
"The Citadel, Tommen, yes.I will be able to help you but there are things. To learn the history of your new companions, it's not a quiet and loving history I will say that." He allows himself a chuckle, barely a second later he sounds like he will hack up a lung.
If he'd thought to spare you from gruesome rumours and horrors then you were the wrong boy.
"I can handle it, tell me, what will I be learning?" You press, you don't seek to be held back with half-truths but he seems to take a sigh of his own, muttering about lions and manners. You wonder if he knows the sayings and personalities of your family.
Manners just didn't do, especially now.
Moments later, you'd read and learned. The House of Nymeros-Martell or commonly known to the Westerosi low and highborn as the Martells. Defied the dragons, through marriage, through bonds would they be brought to the Kingdoms as one. Princes, like you, but they'd earnt it some would say.
Then came those of the sea, of the horrifying Iron Islands and their Lords of Rock and Salt. Many would clamour for a return to the old ways and some did, the mystified tries for a Lodos-Twice-Drowned. It failed as quickly as it started, but some say that it has not all been merwomen and song for the Iron Islands.
Pycelle continued to speak, teaching you of all that he would allow you. He'd only given you so much but you guess, there was a reason to be thankful to the old man.
[ Relationship Gained - See End of Update]
...
D100 + 10 => 107
You'd come to speak with your mother, after that dinner, that talk you'd had. A lot came from it, a lot that you learned and you had gained.
Robert Baratheon was a man who'd only seen you as a disappointment. You had not earned the makings of a warrior, nor did it seem you would ever gain such a moniker in his eyes.
"Would you spend time with him? He seeks to know why you do not spend time with him, am I to lie to our son?" You hear mother cry, yet there seems to be no love lost as you glance further down the hall. It's Barristan, his eyes glance at you for a sly second before continuing his duty.
"That boy is no son of mine, a stain, a deformity is what he is! Bah! Do you take me for some fool? Am I to send him to Storm's End? Dragonstone? No one would take that boy, so I am left to deal with this headache you call a son!" He;s rageful, goblets clang as they hit the ground and you hear liquid spill, only the scoff from your mother is enough to tell you she is safe.
"Tommen is your son. He will always be your son. If you focus on both, then you might not have a problem on your hands. I ask, no, I beseech you, my King. Do the right thing, if not, my Father may take him. After all, he should be used to it." You hear enough but it is all you will hear., you look into your mother's burning eyes.
You imagine she wishes you not to have heard that but there is little more you can do. She takes your hand, glancing to your shadow that is Mandon who bows his head giving you two some space.
"A sneaky one aren't you? You always manage to find yourself in strange places. How much did you hear?" She smiles, the two of you coming upon some gardens as she takes you to a bench. The south's beating sun shining down on the two of you.
"Enough. Is that why Durran hates me? Because I'm different, tall for my age, I look like Uncle Tyrion." You manage to beat out with a groan passing your lips, you are not ashamed but you see the conflict rising in her eyes.
You see a snarl, like a lion's annoyance but she beats it down with a sorrowful smile. She loves you, that much you can see but you always wonder if you had both of their loves.
"Durran does not hate you, dear. Far from it, but he has a misguided sense of right and wrong. You are brothers, you will fight and then you will come together for the sake of family." You hear her how strained she sounds, is she saying it to you or to herself as she clutches your hand in a death grip.
You could be fooled but you find yourself glancing about. Durran's earned his accolades, he's earned plenty. From Duskendale to Storm's End, you wonder if he will manage to claim a few more.
"Father hates me though, is that why I will be sent away? To Casterly Rock?" You can't help it this time, there's a connection. To be torn from your mother would be a fate you wish to not know.
As does she, her fingers do not tear away from yours, in fact, there is nothing but a mother's love.
"You will not be sent anywhere, not if I have anything to say about it. You will remain here, in King's Landing with me, do you understand that?" Again, she whispers it with a force that only a mother lion can muster.
You hope her words live up to such a promise.
...
Dressed in the doublet, you glance at yourself in the mirror, this entire thing is nothing without its importance. Its entertainment and the feast to come, you would be hosting three great houses. You wonder if this is to be something Durran would have done, but you find no comfort in that.
"Nephew," Jaime enters with a smile atop his lip and for once it is not as hollow. You are grateful that your conversation with him went so swimmingly, it would have been quite awkward if it hadn't.
"Nuncle! I thought Mandon would be here," you just manage to catch the hurt look on his face. His eyes catch yours and you are on the receiving end of his classic smirk.
"Ah, such a wanted knight I am. He is in the main hall, making sure nothing is amiss, Jon is hosting our gracious guests, are you prepared?" He only manages to wrinkle your doublet father with his hamfisted gauntlet of a hand.
Perhaps he'd need to visit a septa and have some training done, Seven know they would love the sight of the handsome kingsguard.
"As much as I can be, I don't know what to expect but this is going to be- I don't rather know but interesting is a word for it." He laughs, as you are taken on the way you now see how alive the castle is.
Lannister men-at-arms scattered the halls and bowed to... you, as well as Nuncle Jaime. Serving wenches addressed such was your station, you are not too sure but things in this short while have become different.
These are still the times that you heralded as a stain, perhaps times were changing.
"You know, they can tell you are uncomfortable. It is not right, you are a prince, look it. Meet their eyes, whether your father or brother like it or not is on them but regardless dearest Nephew. You are a leader, men, women, and countless others will be drawn to you. Why? Because of the title, you were birthed with, now, earn it." You stop, glancing into his eyes and you see the truth in them.
You had spent a long while being the unsightly spare, the pawn in the games of Wardens and Arch-Demons.
Earn it.
Nuncle's words bounced about in your head, You could do such a thing, lead and be who you are meant to be. You could have thought it silly, but as you walked to the main hall's door.
You realise it was not.
"Announcing Prince Tommen Baratheon!" So you took note of the banners, the main three, An red sun pierced by a spear. House Martell, you'd seen a gaggle of Ladies with sandy skin and dark eyes, dornish.
There was the snarling grey direwolf on a field of white and green, House Stark. Men with furs adorned to their leather armour would be the men-at arms, now you wonder. Just who did they send with such an entourage?
Finally, there. You hear it, the blasting horn of war as your eyes turn to the field of black with a yellow Kraken, House Greyjoy. Yet it did not stop, you couldn't stop hearing it.
The horn of war sounded as the names drowned out except one... there it was, a song of sea and blood. The smell of turnips in the air as you lock eyes with...
"Lady Asha Greyjoy! The Kraken's Daughter!" Announces the herald as the two of you lock eyes, but there she sends the look...
A smirk, filled with nothing but playfulness and danger...
[ Relationship Gained ]
...
Relationship Changes:
Ser Mandon Moore: Friend > Close Friend
Ser Jaime Lannister: Acquaintance > Friend
Lady Cersei Lannister: Protector > Ally (Trusted.)
Grandmaester Pycelle: N/A > Acquaintance
Asha Greyjoy: N/A > ???
???: Enemy
Robert Baratheon: Disappointment > Dislike (-25 to Rolls with him...)
Trait Gained:
Path-Forger: You defied a destiny set out for you by some kind of demonic being, joint by kin of some kind. You will forge your own path, what does that mean? You do not know what or even where to begin. (A bonus to ??? and ???)
Of Storm and Blood: Defying this being, you felt something snap, like a shackle. All you know is that something has woken up. You might have to test it. (A Bonus to ???, ???, ???)
...
- PLAN VOTE -
[] - Talk to...(Pick 3)
- Asha Greyjoy, she knows as do you. Just... what is this feeling within you?
- Cregan Stark, Spare to Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell
- Dorea Sand, Sand-Snake, accompanied by Artas Dayne.
- Nuncle Renly Baratheon, Lord Paramount of the Stormlands, and Master of Laws.
- Nuncle Stannis Baratheon, Master of Ships and Lord of Dragonstone.
- Nuncle Tyrion, sent by Grandfather, seems to be deep in his cups.
[] - Discuss... (Pick 2)
- The Vale with Lord Paramount Jon Arryn, Hand of the King.
- The Westerlands with Lord Tyrion
- The North with Cregan Stark
- Dorne with Dorea Sand
[] - The Feast... (Pick 2)
- Commander of the City Watch, Janos Slynt is here at the feast, talk with him.
- Varys, the Spider is skulking about through the shadows. You manage to catch him at the feast.
- Petyr Baelish, you hear he manages to find coin in plenty of places and he's wanted to talk with you for some time now.
- Your mother seats herself at the high table with other noble ladies, introduce yourself to them.
[] - Interlude.... (Pick 1)
- The Carved Eye.
- A Flower's Thorn.
- A Hill Has Eyes.
- The Giant's Bane.
