Bonus Notius (Chapter XII)
Lucius Domitius Aurelianus

Festive music and the smell of various exotic foods filled the grand hall. Lucius took a last bite from the honeyed pork on his plate, leaving only the ribs. The food he had just finished had nothing to envy the food he had become used to in his days as Imperator. He was sitting between Ser Myles Mooton and Ser Richard Lonmouth, but everyone had been eating silently and he hadn't spoken to them more than to greet them and introduce himself. Most men at the table wore red and black garments, Lucius included, but there were a few exceptions, one man in red and white, and a few others.

Superficially there seemed to be a cheery atmosphere at the table, which was filled with Rhaegar's friends and supporters. Still, someone like Lucius could see the subtle hints of general unhappiness that plagued the table. The looks of pensive displeasure staring at half-eaten food, men looking hesitatingly at the prince from the side of their eyes, forced laughter in response to forced jokes. Lucius didn't know anything about the situation in the King's court, but he had heard of the situation that had happened in the morning thanks to the maids' unending talking. When they realized Lucius didn't know anything about the recent happening they indulged in telling him everything and anything they had seen, heard, or been told by the mother of the sister of the friend of someone who saw it, to the last detail.

Apparently, there had been quite the commotion when, after winning the joust, the prince had decided to crown Lyanna Stark as his queen of love and beauty instead of his young wife Elia Martell, whom he had married the previous year and had already given him a daughter. Furthermore, Lyanna Stark and Elia Martell were both daughters of two of the most powerful lords in the realm, and Lyanna Stark was betrothed to Lord Robert Baratheon, who was also a powerful Lord. When the prince crowned Lyanna as his queen of love and beauty both Lord Robert Baratheon and Prince Oberyn Martell raised from their seats enraged by Prince Rhaegar's decision, or so the maids had told Lucius.

After a while, Lord Whent declared that the floor was open to dance and the food was taken away by the servants. The wine and mead on the other hand flowed in even greater quantities. People stood up from their tables and took to the big space in the centre of the hall, lords and ladies danced together to cheery tunes. Some just stood in circles having polite conversations with acquaintances who had been assigned to other tables. Lucius stood up with a glass of wine in his hand and excused himself from the others at the table, they went on to form their own circle to the side of the dancing.

Lucius looked at where Rhaegar was standing, alone in one of the corners of the Hall, the prince was looking his way, his eyes deep purple under the torchlight, and long silver-blond hair falling from his shoulders. The prince raised his glass, an invitation. Lucius raised his glass back and made his way towards Rhaegar.

The prince was wearing black boots, red trousers and a red tunic, with a black jerkin, with masterfully sewn red dragons and flames, over it. A black cloak rested on his shoulders, on it a beautiful three-headed dragon in red was depicted.

Lucius was wearing similar garments, but all of them were plain. He wore black boots, black trousers and a black tunic, with a plain red jerkin over it. On his own shoulders a plain red cloak. All the garments he had been offered to choose from were black or red.

"Prince Rhaegar." Lucius bowed his head slightly. "I've received your invitation." He told the crown prince, who would have looked more like a monarch than his father did if not for the fact he wore no crown.

"Lucius, is it?" The prince raised a silver-blond eyebrow slightly. "A peculiar name, clearly foreign. But you sound like any riverlander I've ever met." Rhaegar said, more a statement than a question, but clearly expecting an answer.

"You are correct, my prince, I'm from faraway lands, but I've been staying on a farm south of the Oldstones for three years." The prince took a sip from his glass as if inviting Lucius to elaborate. "I was born by the side of a river called the Danube, in a place called Dacia. It's been a long time since I left that land. Since then, the only home I've known is a small farm by the Blue Fork." He explained to the prince, who nodded seemingly satisfied.

"And your name, does it mean anything in your language?" The prince asked. Lucius nodded. "Lucius is a name given to children who are born at dawn; it derives from my language equivalent of light. Aurelianus is the name of my family; it was given to my father by a member of an ancient family, the Aurelii. The name comes from an ancient language now forgotten; it derives from the word sun, in your language." Lucius explained the meanings of his praenomen and cognomen, he didn't mention his nomen, following Sefton's advice, since the nobles of this land used only a personal name and a familial name.

The prince smiled, amused. "Then, your names mean sunlight when put together? An interesting name, with interesting origins, the sunlight of dawn."
He said contemplatively but with a smile still on his face. "What of this Aurelii you speak of, are they of any note?" The prince asked. Lucius took a long sip of wine from his glass as he remembered his visions while in the domain of The White One. "They were, in the days of yore. There are none left now. The lands from where I come from were conquered, our people scattered, and our legacy damned to oblivion by the tides of time." He said, bitter at the turns fate would take, or had already taken. He didn't know how long he had spent in the land of the god that breathed life.

"A sad tale." The prince almost whispered. "How old are you? You seem so young, I can't imagine living through such horrors at such an early age, do you have any family left?" The prince softly asked him. Lucius stood still for a moment, it seemed he had given the prince the wrong impression, but how to explain it? He decided to go with half-truths, he disliked lying but he would be thought of as a madman if he offered a more honest explanation. "I don't exactly know my age, but Ser Sefton thinks I have lived through fifteen namedays. As for my family, I don't have anyone left, although I like to think of Ben as if he were a younger brother." He told the prince, who nodded slowly.

"Well, Lucius, I've not invited you to join me at the feast just to ask about your origins, although they've proven to be more interesting than I anticipated them to be." The prince told him, an iron tone under the softness of his voice. "I've seen you fight through the tourney and you are impressively skilled for a young man your age. I wish to take you with me back to Dragonstone, there you will squire for one of the trusted Knights of my retinue, you will be trained and taught how to be a proper knight, and eventually, you will be knighted." The prince explained before hesitating for a moment. "Do you know how to read and write in the common tongue?" He asked Lucius. "I do not, my prince," Lucius answered, making a conscious effort to remember the proper etiquette on how to properly refer to Prince Rhaegar. "You will be taught how to then; you will be taught history too. As for your accommodations, don't worry, you will be given a room in Dragonstone. What do you say Lucius Aurelianus? Does my proposal align with your interests?" The prince asked although it was barely a question. There was only one answer really, but still, Lucius hesitated.

"It is certainly a generous proposal, my prince, but if I may be so bold to ask. Would you mind if I brought Ben along with me?" He asked the prince, who seemed unfazed by the question. "Of course, you can bring him along, I'll arrange for a room at the castle too, he will be properly taught. It is only right you look out for what is all family you have left. Any other requests?" The prince waved his worries away with a wave of his hand. "No. I accept your generous offer, my prince." Lucius bowed his head again, slightly lower than the last time.

"Good, we depart on the morrow, be ready by dawn." The prince told him, then took a purse from his belt and offered it to Lucius. When Lucius placed his hand on the purse to take it, the prince put his other hand on top of Lucius' and clasped it. "I'll take care of you now. There is a place in the world for you here." The prince gave him a fatherly smile, and then let go of Lucius' hand. They continued with a bit of polite conversation, but shortly after the prince excused himself.

After almost an hour of wandering around the hall without finding a place to fit in, Lucius decided to return to his room. He then made another decision and gathered his teammates in his room. Imry didn't respond to his knocks, and Sefton told him he would join him in a moment, but the others came with him. A few minutes later, Sefton joined them. While no one seemed to know where Imry was, he knocked on Lucius' door asking for his brother since he wasn't in his room, a suspiciously fortuitous timing in Lucius' opinion, but he didn't hold the thought.

"I'm sorry, to wake you this late at night, but I've been rewarded for our efforts in the tourney and thought it only fair that we split such reward evenly." He told them as he dangled the coin purse in front of them. They were sitting on the floor forming a circle.

"You don't hear me complaining," Ferret jested, a greedy smile plastered on his face, the men were in their smallclothes and Ferret was shaking a little, at first Lucius thought it was cold, but maybe it was just excitement. The others nodded, agreeing with the small thief. Lucius emptied the purse on the floor in front of everyone, divided the coins into seven equal stacks and put all of them together to show them they all had the same height. Ferret got on all fours and placed his head on the ground to be able to look at them from the side, he then sat down again and nodded his head satisfied. Each of them took a stack, each was now five golden dragons richer than they had been a few minutes ago, except for Lucius, who was now thirty golden dragons poorer, but he didn't need money where he was going so it didn't bother him much.

"Now that we are done with that, I've got something to tell you. Prince Rhaegar was impressed by Ben's and my performance in the tourney, so he has decided we would squire for a Knight in his retinue, and he wishes for us to serve him in the future." He told them, for a moment they remained silent, and Ben looked at him opened-eyed.

"Congratulations, I knew you two were made for great things, just don't forget about good old Sefton when you go around rubbing shoulders with the high and mighty, Cheers!" Sefton ended the silence with a genuine smile on his face before he raised his wine sack and took a long gulp. The rest followed his example and gave similar compliments, except for Tommard who told them "Good for you, I guess." But generally, there were many smiles and everyone was happy, being ten golden dragons richer had gotten everyone in a good mood. The celebration was short and to the point and soon everyone said their farewells and went on to sleep. Tomorrow would be a new day and a new life for everyone in their little ragtag team.
 
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Sermo (Chapter XIII)
Myles Mooton

The salty air of Dragonstone was something Myles was still getting used to, it wasn't the scent of the sea that bothered him, he was used to that. It was rather the underlying scent of smoke and brimstone. The scent of sorcery, he thought. But Myles was an open-minded fellow, nothing like most Lords and Ladies of the realm who shat their pants at the thought of anything, not of Andal origin. He had to be, in order to serve Rhaegar properly.

"The lad is very bright indeed, he is picking up writing at an astonishing speed, I suspect he was given an education at some point in his life. He probably knows how to write in his native tongue, he clearly has experience using pen and ink. He has already learned the Andal alphabet and is capable of some light reading. I permitted him to borrow history books from the library, he took King Daeron's Conquest of Dorne two weeks ago. I expect him to end it by the end of the next week." Maester Corwyn was informing the prince of the progress of his two squires on scholarly pursuits, Rhaegar had ordered the Maester to give both lessons for an hour once a week, mostly to teach them how to read and write. The prince hadn't wanted to overburden the old Maester with his capricious undertaking of turning a foreign orphan and an oversized peasant boy into anything resembling proper knights.

"His friend on the other hand is as dim as he is bright. It's been a month and he can barely read, I haven't been able to begin instructing him on how to write he struggles with every word, it takes him a full minute to read a sentence made of fourteen words." The old man sighted. The prince was standing on the balcony of his solar on the Sea Dragon Tower. Sea winds blew through his silvery hair as he stared at the horizon watching the rising sun.

"And you, Ser Myles, what are your thoughts on your squires?" The prince asked. His thoughts, none of them were good when the prince had commanded him to take two ignoble kids as squires. But things change, it is what things do, he thought. "They are both greatly talented, my prince. Ben has taken to use a morning star mace he found in our armoury, he wields it fiercely in the training yard, he is steadily improving, and with his size and strength few in Dragonstone can challenge him." He stopped to take a breath and wished he had an ale in his hand, alas the prince looked down on his men drinking so early in the day. "Lucius, well Lucius is unmatched in the yard, even I can't beat him. He is like Aemon the Dragonknight come again, that black sword he carries, sharp and light as if it were Valyrian steel. An heirloom, the last he has of his people, he claimed when I inquired." Myles continued. "On horseback, Ben has much to learn, he doesn't quite trust horses yet and the beasts share the sentiment. Lucius, on the other hand, is natural, he rides as if he had been born ahorse. I've seen him ride without stirrups when unarmoured. He evidently has been taught how to ride a horse long before he set foot on Dragonstone." Myles concluded his report on his new squires.

The prince tapped his finger impatiently on the balcony's railing. "That would be enough, Maester Corwyn. I thank you for reporting so early in the morning. I know it must be hard for a man your age. You can return to your other duties now." The prince commanded. The old Maester bowed and left the solar dragging his feet.

Myles stood in place; the prince took his time while gazing at the sea. "There is more to this than we know." The prince's voice broke the quiet. "I agree, my prince." Myles concurred. The prince's finger suddenly stopped tapping the railing. "I'm overthinking it, if he escaped a land ravaged by war and made it far enough to come to Westeros it stands to reason his family was wealthy enough to arrange and pay for his travels." The prince sighed. "We are sure he isn't from Westeros, and if he is from across the narrow sea, he comes from beyond the Dothraki Sea. He is also very young, my prince. I scarcely think this is something we should worry about." Myles comforted the prince, who turned to face him and nodded in agreement.

"You are right Myles, it's just. I have a lot in mind. Tell me. What else have you gathered about them?" The prince asked as he put a hand on Myles' shoulder. "Of Ben, not much of note. He keeps to the faith and dreams of knights riding to glorious battle." Myles answered. "Lucius on the other hand is more interesting, he keeps to foreign gods. He worships the sun as the god of gods, Sol Invictus, he calls it. He also performs a myriad of rituals to please the sun, lesser gods, and spirits of the earth. I don't know the intricacies of his faith; I wasn't eager to ask, and he wasn't eager to explain. I do know however that when he is able to afford it, he sacrifices animals to his gods." Myles told the prince. He was worried about this facet of Lucius, and not only because he didn't know how he would get a septon to ordain him once he was ready to become a knight.

"Interesting." The prince said, his face inscrutable. "He can keep to his gods if he so wishes, just make sure he doesn't terrify the smallfolk with his rituals. The people here aren't especially devout. They may be more tolerant of religions that practice such things so close to sorcery, but it wouldn't do Lucius, or us, any good if rumours started to go around that we have recruited a warrior sorcerer from faraway lands." He paused for a moment and seemed to be deep in contemplation before continuing. "That would be all for now, I'll think about what to do with all of this. There are many things in motion…" The prince's voice lowered to a whisper as he continued talking to himself and turned back to watch the morning sea.

Myles bowed and left Prince Rhaegar on his solar to his musings, he was up early, there was no reason not to wake up his squires too and start training earlier than normal. Squires shouldn't sleep while their knight was up and about labouring in the morning. Not good at all.
 
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Intempesta Nocte (Chapter XIV)
Lucius Aurelianus

Lucius sat at the main table in the hall, outside the castle, a storm battered the island and the Stone Drum, the main keep of Dragonstone, seemed insistent on proving worthy of its name. Thunderous booming sounds filled the keep, without rhythm to speak of. A drum indeed, but the storm proved to be a poor musician.

Princess Elia Martell presided over the round table, flanked on her left by her Ladies in Waiting: Lady Ashara Dayne, Lady Larra Blackmont, Lady Myria Qorgyle, and Lady Frynne Manwoody. To her right sat her uncle Ser Lewyn Martell, a member of the Kingsguard. Maester Corwyn sat beside Lewyn, while Ben and Lucius occupied the remaining seats. Lucius was seated across from Princess Elia, beside Lady Manwoody.

Maester Corwyn was regaling the table with a tale about Ser Lucamore Strong, a knight who had lived more than two centuries ago. "And so he was dragged to the Iron Throne in chains, there the whole court was present, and Ser Gyles Morrigen presented the King with living proof Lucamore the Lusty had betrayed his oath. Before the King stood three women, and sixteen children." The Maester took a break from his storytelling to take a sip from his cup and recover his breath.

"It turns out, the White Sword had married three different women, without telling each of the other two. It is said that two of the women hurled insults at each other and their children, while the third attempted to attack Ser Lucamore with a knife she took from a knight distracted by the spectacle. She was only stopped by Ser Ryam Redwyne. Alas, he later would have preferred she had succeeded in her attempt, since King Jaehaerys ordered Ser Ryam to cut the precocious knight's manhood and sentenced him to the Wall, and so the same knife with which his second wife tried to murder him was used instead to gild him." The Maester finished his story to the playful applause of Princess Elia and her ladies, who were listening intently. Ben and Ser Lewyn applauded the Maester too, who in turn stood up and mockingly bowed to them as if he was some sort of bard or entertainer.

Elia giggled at the Maester's antics. "Sit down Corwyn. I know for a fact you will be complaining later about the pain in your knees." She mockingly scolded the Maester who sat back down as the chain along his neck clanked. "I could start complaining now if only to prove my Princess right." The Maester chuckled.

"There is no need." Ser Lewyn interrupted their chatting, "We hear you complain enough as is." The knight japed. Princess Elia giggled again. She wore a red, thin linen dress, and over it, a sheepskin cloak, to guard her against the cold. It seemed that the warming days the previous year had been a fluke, winter had returned with a vengeance.

"Speaking of complaining. How comes your training, Ben? I haven't heard you complain about it since Ser Myles left with Prince Rhaegar, I do hope you haven't been neglecting your duties this past week." Ser Lewyn turned towards Ben. Ser Lewyn was wearing armour and, on his shoulders, rested a white cloak. Lucius had never seen the knight unarmoured or without his cloak since he had met him.

"I haven't! I've been following Ser Myles' instructions. It's just that I wish he had taken us with him." Ben replied. Elia frowned, but hints of her smile were still visible on her face. "I didn't think you would abandon me so, Ben. It wouldn't be gallant of a knight to leave a young mother like me, and such fair maidens as my ladies all on our own. Would it?" She said, chastising him, Ben's eyes grew large with panic.

"I didn't mean to… Princess, I… Ladies…" Ben fumbled in his attempts to explain or excuse himself. Lucius was extremely amused by his friend's clumsiness with words, but he hid his smile by drinking some wine from his cup. The Princess wasn't half so subtle, she outright laughed at poor Ben. "Worry not Ben, I'm jesting with you." Her tone was kind, and her smile warm. Ben seemed to relax. "I have my uncle to protect me, and I'm sure Lucius wouldn't be as eager to abandon our company as you seem to be" She japed.

"I would never dream of abandoning your company, Princess," Lucius replied with a charming smile, his eyes flickering over to the ladies who were now giggling. "The least I owe the prince is to protect his wife and children, although I must admit that the lovely ladies accompanying them are a persuasion of their own." He gave a respectful nod to the Princess and a wink to the ladies. Princess Elia huffed, there was a hint of amusement in her eyes, but also a touch of genuine anger. "In that case, I'd think we'd rather you go along with Ben, follow my fool husband around whatever merry chase has caught his fancy this time. It must be something important I expect since it has compelled him so to abandon his wife and first son just a few months after he was born." Her voice was laced with sarcasm, and the ladies couldn't help but snigger at the pointed remark.

"Don't be so quick to dismiss them, Elia. They make for entertaining company." Lady Frynne said directing a sly smile to Lucius, who returned a smile of his own. "Entertaining imagery you mean, with the way your eyes wander." Elia quipped, and the ladies giggled, except for Lady Frynne who pouted. Ser Lewyn laughed alongside the ladies. "It's no wonder they find the young squires charming, they are talented fighters, women can sense those things." Lewyn nodded sagely to his own observation. "Is more that they are not as boorish as you Ser Uncle. Men with a modicum of manners, tolerable looks, and wit enough not to yap incessantly are easy to digest for womanly eyes." Princess Elia said in a serious tone. Her uncle leaned backwards and threw his hands to the sides as if asking why he was being unjustly targeted. Elia giggled with his ladies at Lewyn's reaction.

The princess took one last sip from her cup and stood up, everyone stood after her. "The ladies and I will retire now, my children must miss their mother already." She declared and left the hall with her ladies behind her. Lady Frynne looked back at Lucius with playful green eyes and waved her fingers at him. Lucius smiled and waved back.

The storm outside raged on for hours, the drinking and bantering just as long. Lucius expected the old Maester to be the first to succumb to slumber and leave but it seemed Ben couldn't quite hold his liquor and he passed out on the table, Ser Lewyn went to sleep shortly after. Lucius drank no more than three cups in the entire night, but Maester Corwyn drank cup after cup and seemed immune to the effects of wine. They chatted for hours, it was more Maester Corwyn lecturing about unusual topics and telling old tales than an actual conversation, but Lucius enjoyed it. Finally, Lucius got drowsy and retired to his chamber, he left Ben on the table, he had to learn how to moderate his drinking somehow, and he was too tired to carry the big oaf.
 
Do I perhaps sense a love interest for Aurelian in the form of Lady Frynne?

Once again another good update. I wonder if perhaps Lucius might be feeling somewhat irritated due to all of the socializing he's been doing. My understanding of the historical man at least is that he was most comfortable on the battlefield, and dining with nobles was close to the top of of the list of things he didn't enjoy.
 
Profectus Ad Bellum (Chapter XV)
Myles Mooton

The morning sea was calm, the sky was clear, and the sun warmed his skin. It amazed Myles that nature was so calm and unbothered while the realm of men plunged into chaos. The seagulls and the fish were playing their games as hunters and hunted as if this were any other day, for them it was, not one day passed in which they weren't being hunted or hunting, to feed themselves, and to escape becoming food. For Myles it was rather different, he was used to food being on the table, to the certainty that tomorrow would be as safe as yesterday. He took in all he could see; he knew he may never see the shores of Dragonstone again, nor any other shores. He wasn't as used as the beasts to the idea of death, to the breath of the Stranger on one's own neck.

The cheers of the smallfolk took Myles from his musings, the ship had just left port and he could see the smallfolk waiving from the coast, many were probably families of the men he had just taken with him, he imagined there were many a woman praying for the safe return of their husband, children and brothers. Lewyn hadn't been one of those men. The knight and Myles had had a nasty discussion the day before, Lewyn was fuming, demanding an explanation Myles simply didn't have. When pressed the White Cloack declared he wouldn't leave Elia's side unless directly commanded by the king.

It didn't matter, there were many skilled knights in the army Jon Connington was gathering. The King had chosen the right man to be his Hand, Myles thought. Young lords, loyal and eager for battle, that was what the realm needed in this time of war. A few days after Jon's appointment word reached King's Landing that Lord Tyrell had delivered a crushing defeat to the rebel forces and was now on his way to besiege Storm's End. A good omen for the young Hand. Connington and his army would begin marching in less than a week, more than enough time for Myles to join him. He expected to arrive at King's Landing in three days.

Once they joined the army and departed, Jon would take the army to the Riverlands, where Robert Baratheon was retreating to. Once they reached him, they would crush him in the field of battle and cut one of the heads of the rebellion. His troops were exhausted from weeks of fighting and more than a month of retreating through hostile territory.

As the cog moved away from the island, the distinct scent of Dragonstone faded and was replaced by the more tolerable smell of the sea. His squires stood by his side, one to each side, Lucius leaned on the rail of the ship and silently watched the smallfolk, Ben waved back at them, a big smile plastered on his face. His squires had joined him without hesitation. Ben was elated with the opportunity to prove his worth in battle. Lucius on the other hand seemed impassive since he had been informed that they would be accompanying Myles to war, the squire remained playful and mischievous, but with tinges of sadness in his mood.

"Have you ever fought in a battle, Ser Myles?" Ben's sudden question startled the knight out of his musings. "I can't say I have, no," Myles answered after a moment. "Are you afraid?" Ben's expression became more serious as he asked. Myles reached upwards and put his hand on Ben's shoulder. "I'm not entirely unafraid, but I'm steadfast in my duty as a sworn knight of Prince Rhaegar. Fear is unavoidable, but it is the responsibility of knights to conquer it, to battle for justice and truth even at the cost of their own lives. Those are the ideals we must live up to." Myles gave Ben a reassuring smile, the kid nodded and seemed to relax.

"I'll be side by side with you Ben. Battles are a gruesome business, but we will stick together, whatever happens." Lucius lightly punched Ben on the shoulder reassuringly. "You just want to use me to block the arrows!" Ben whined. "I only ever said that because you were being overly annoying, I didn't actually mean it." Lucius' mouth formed a wry smile. "Or did I? You must admit you would make a good shield." Lucius jokingly stroked his chin as if seriously considering it. Ben punched Lucius on his shoulder, more a push with his fist than a punch, but he sent Lucius stumbling to the ground. Ben laughed and the mood lightened, Myles saw a subtle smile on Lucius' face before he got up.

The men of Dragonstone who had come with him seemed uneasy. The thought of war did that to men with half a wit. The thought of blood and dirt, of men dying in front and beside you, of horses trampling friend and foe alike, and of arrows raining down on men did sound unappealing to those who took at least a minute to think about it. It would be weird for them to be calm, but it was their duty, they were sworn to Rhaegar the same as Myles.

The hours passed and the cog sailed silently through Blackwaters bay. His squires sat on the bow and whispered to each other, laughing every now and then. The men sat and lay on the deck, some slept, and others chatted among themselves. The sailors were the only men whose hands weren't idle.

Myles thought long and hard, it's not that he wasn't prone to think things properly, although some would have you believe otherwise. But this time he thought longer and harder than he usually did. He didn't quite see how they would get out of this one. The dornish were rightfully pissed at Rhaegar, half the realm spit on the Targaryen name and wanted nothing more than to rid the King of his head. So far, a few houses from the Riverlands, all the houses from the Crownlands, and the entire might of the Reach had declared for King Aerys, his House Mooton included amongst those thanks the Seven. Still, Myles wasn't sure that was enough to put down the rebellion. Two entire Kingdoms had risen against them, the Vale and North, Robert Baratheon had also compelled most houses from the Stormlands to join his cause after the battles at Summerhall. But who knew, maybe crushing Robert's army and capturing or slaying the rebel lord would be enough to sap the will to fight from the other rebels.
 
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Proelium In Lapide (Chapter XVI)
Ben

Ben was clad in armour, his helmet failed to hide his long bright red hair, but a visor would hide the beard he was growing once he lowered it. He wore the Targaryen colours and with his morning star on his belt and a kite shield on his arm, Ben thought he made for an imposing sight.

Stoney Sept was a walled town nestled in the rolling hills of the southern Riverlands. It was a quiet town, filled with cobbled streets and narrow alleys that wound their way between the ancient stone buildings. The sun was high in the sky, and the town's walls rose above the buildings casting a sharp shadow across the narrow streets below. At the top of the walls, sentry towers could be seen, wooden structures on top of the stone wall, men stood on them watching the countryside for any sign of trouble. Other men stood on the wall, they did not look outwards, but inwards, looking for any hint of the rebel Lord Baratheon.

Ben had been spared from the fighting the day before. Lord Connington's vanguard had crushed and dispersed Robert Baratheon's army, the fresh loyalist army made quick work of the rebels who had been retreating through the Reach for almost a month. The rebel lord had vanished with the rest of his army, but this morning Lord Connington's scouts had seen Lord Baratheon with at least a hundred men entering the town, half a day north of where they were. The army arrived in only four hours; Lord Connington had taken the men to their limit with his forced march.

Once they arrived Lord Connington promptly ordered the loyalist army to secure the gates and wall. After that, he ordered them to search every house and building in the town and to find Robert Baratheon. That had been an hour ago.

Ben was checking a house placed in an alley which branched from the main street of the town. The smell of freshly baked bread drifted through an opened window, intermingled with the rich scent of roasting meat, coming from the markets behind the house Ben was in. The elderly woman who had opened the door watched him search every room with a stern expression. Ben noticed the woman glimpse at the morning star resting on his belt anxiously a few times. They hadn't uttered a word since Ben had announced he would be searching her house on orders from The Hand of the King, she probably didn't have anything to say to him, and Ben didn't know if there was anything he could say to calm the old woman. It was much easier for him to wield his morning star in the field than his tongue in conversation.

As Ben made his way through the house, his senses were on high alert, his pale blue eyes scanning every corner for any sign of danger. He checked each room carefully, lifting old crude tapestries and peering behind furniture, but he found nothing suspicious. Just as he was about to give up his search, he heard a faint rustling sound coming from a room he had just searched. His hand went to his morning star as he slowly made his way over to investigate. As he opened the door a rat scurried away towards a nook in the corner of the room. Suddenly he heard a noise behind him, and he spun around, morning star at the ready, but he found only the shocked face of the elderly woman standing in the hall. The shock on her face turned into a smirk. "A scaredy cat, are you? Just you like your King." The woman spat at him. "Our King." Ben corrected her. The woman opened her mouth, to say what Ben would never know, but she was interrupted by the ringing of bells, the bells from the sept the town got its name from. Ben's face turned white, the bells could only mean one thing, an enemy army was approaching. He lowered his visor and rushed outside.

Men screaming could be heard from all directions, some shouting orders, others cries of war, and some were simply screaming. Ben clutched his shield tightly in one hand, his morning star in the other, and tried to understand what was going on. He ran towards the main street, there he saw men carrying the banner of the three-headed dragon trying to storm the gateway which was being held by a small number of rebels, behind them in the distance Ben could see a great cloud of smoke approaching their way, the feet beneath his feat trembled. Cavalry, he thought. They had to close the gate.

He charged towards the gate. A man fell from the wall, Ben looked up. The rebels defended the gatehouse fiercely, as fiercely as the loyalist tried to retake it. Soon Ben found himself in the middle of the fray, around him the sound of clashing steel was almost deafening, and the metallic smell of blood was nauseating. Ben tried not to focus on that, in front of him a man wearing black and red was felled by a warrior clad in yellow, their eyes met for a second and before he realized his morning star met a thick wooden shield and the man in yellow staggered backwards. Strike after strike, Ben saw himself overwhelm the warrior, charging ever forward. "Never relent" Lucius had once taught him. The warrior swung his battle axe in a desperate attempt to force Ben to halt his assault, he instead lost his balance and slipped on the blood that covered the street of stone. Their eyes met again, his were green, Ben noticed, opened in panic, they reminded Ben of that one sheep his father had used to show him how to slaughter, pleading, scared. Ben never joined his father and brother when they slaughtered the sheep again. Still, he kicked the warrior's shield to the side, as Ser Myles had taught him, and bashed the man's helmet inwards with his morning star. His blood joined the drenched stone street.

The battle around Ben was still raging, a storm of steel. He saw two men fighting and recognized the king's colours in one of them, he swung his morning star with all his might on the back of the other man. One after another, Ben couldn't tell how long or how many, but soon it was made clear. Too long, not enough. The horses clashed against the fighting men, they did not discriminate between friend and foe, one hit Ben and threw him to the ground. The strength of the smack made Ben lose his breath, horses ran above him, and he expected a hoof to smash his head like he had smashed the green-eyed warrior's. It never did, when Ben recovered his breath and stood up the cavalry was long past them. A few men ahorse remained around, cutting down those who remained. Ben had remained unnoticed. He saw the rebel foot coming towards the gate, but he didn't see any men of the king standing around him, so he ran towards one of the narrow alleys. He had to find Ser Myles; he would know what to do.

He ran through the alleys, the bells sounded loudly and incessantly over the screams of battle. He stumbled into a man wearing colours he didn't recognize and a rusted helmet, the man looked at him for a moment and charged silently. Ben responded to his charge and the trust of his sword with a step to the side, followed by his morning star swinging upwards towards his face. He tore the man's rusty visor from his helmet and half his face from his head along with it. The man stood for a moment and looked at him with a single brown eye, he looked baffled, and then he fell face-first to the ground. Ben looked at the corpse for a minute, he couldn't move a muscle. Suddenly he realized the bells had stopped ringing for a moment, he also felt the bile in his throat. No time for that, he thought as the ringing resumed. He swallowed and kept going, he had to find Myles. He continued towards the Stoney Sept. Along the way, he found scattered soldiers whom he rallied behind him.

When they arrived at the square in front of the sept the sight was gruesome. Bodies were scattered on the floor and a pitched battle was taking place. Searching for Myles Ben's eyes scanned the battlefield, and he finally saw him at the steps of the sept. Robert Baratheon and Myles Mooton were engaged in single combat, on the steps below them laid five bodies, they wore red, white and gold. Ser Myles' men, Ben thought. The stormlord had the knight on his back foot, he needed help. "Men! With me!" He boomed. He charged towards the sept followed by the six men he had gathered going through the alleys. They followed as Ben opened a path through the square swinging his morning star with abandon, he felled all enemies who stood in his way, but most just stood aside. In no time he reached the steps.

Myles' shield was torn apart the knight had been reduced to dodging the strikes of Baratheon's hammer. As Ben ascended the steps Ser Myles charged forward trying to catch the stormlord off-guard, Robert Baratheon deflected the knight's sword with his hammer and in the same motion struck Myles' knee. The knight fell with the single strike.

"Charge him!" Ben shouted, as the three men who remained at his side followed his direction. While the men charged the stormlord Ben picked up Myles and rested him on his shoulder, when Ben raised his gaze, he saw two of the men already laid dead on the steps, the third was running away from Robert. Ben ran too, he had to get Myles out of the town.

Ben quickly descended the steps, with one arm he carried Myles on his shoulder and with the other he held his shield, his morning star was lost, he didn't even remember letting go of it. As he made his way away from the square and through an alley, he heard a horn blowing twice, Lord Connington's signal of retreat, the battle was lost. Ben ran through the alley, without any idea of where he was going. Retreat, that was the signal. But retreat where? Ben didn't know where he was or where he was going, but he kept going. As he made his way across an abandoned street a knight fell from the sky in front of him, the corpse remained unmoving, and Ben didn't want to know how the man looked beneath the black and yellow armour. Ben looked up and saw a man staring at him while standing on the edge of a roof, he wore red and black. The man nodded at Ben, and he nodded back at the man. The man then pointed to Ben's left. "Go to the eastern gate! It's the only way out of the city!" The man shouted. Ben mumbled thanks which wouldn't have been heard if the man was standing next to him and ran in the direction he was pointed to. He ran through empty streets and alleys at first, but then he found fighting. Ben rose his shield and charged through the battle, he ran as fast as he could, thankfully Ser Myles had stopped screaming in pain a few minutes past.

They made it to the eastern gate in one piece, mostly, Ben couldn't help but worry about the dangling broken leg of Ser Myles. There Connington was organizing an orderly retreat. The wounded were being put on wagons and tended by maesters while they were carried away first. Ben carefully placed Ser Myles on one of the wagons, he waited for a maester to tend to Myles before he relaxed. Suddenly he felt the toll of battle all at once, his muscles sore, from use and bruises. He looked at himself, he was covered in blood. The enemies' blood, he thought. Then he saw his hands, as pale as death, maybe not all his enemies' then. He wondered if Lucius had survived the onslaught before falling on his back, the muddy grass felt comfortable. The evening sky was very pretty he noticed; then everything went black.
 
Levamentum (Chapter XVII)
Lucius Aurelianus

The morning drizzle damped Lucius' short hair, he had cut it before they left King's Landing, long hair was only a bother in battle. The sun was yet to come out and river winds hit coldly against his face. Lucius walked through the tents of sleeping soldiers in silence only meeting the occasional lookout who greeted him warmly. The dim light of torches lighted the way towards the big tent on the edges of the camp, a single man was guarding the entrance. Lucius greeted the guard with a nod as he entered the tent.

The insides of the tent smelled of death. Next to the entrance, there were two blooded pallets the maesters and septas used to move the wounded. The wounded rested on the floor, they laid on straw mattresses separated from the floor by thin wooden planks, there weren't many wounded, most had been left behind when they retreated from Stoney Sept. Lucius made his way across the tent towards the other side of the entrance, this was where the most grievously wounded were kept, where Ben and Ser Myles rested. Both were unconscious, the maesters constantly fed them with milk of the poppy. Lucius sat on the floor between them.

A few days had passed since the battle, but this would be the first day the army would not resume the march at dawn, Lord Connington had deemed that they put enough distance from the enemy to be able to rest for the day. Lucius looked at Ser Myles' leg, the maesters had immobilized his knee with a cast made of wood, leather and cloth, they had told Lucius Ser Myles wouldn't be able to ride a horse or fight in armour again, they needn't had to, Lucius was no stranger to such injuries, he knew that, and he knew Ser Myles would hardly be able to properly walk ever again too although the maesters hadn't told him that. Then he looked at Ben, the kid was alright, praised be Sol, he had lost a lot of blood during the battle from a wound on his left upper arm, but his skin was already regaining its colour. Ben also broke a rib during the battle, but the maesters weren't worried, the rib hadn't punctured any important organs nor caused internal bleeding or infection, they had wrapped his torso with a supportive bandage and told Lucius his friend would be fine after two months rest. He sat there for a few minutes, he liked this tent, few people came by, especially this early in the morning, and the only other conscious man was a half-asleep maester making sure the wounded were fine. He could think peacefully here.

The march had been slow, and Lord Connington didn't allow for much rest. They had been thoroughly defeated, the loyalist army had been a mighty host when they took the Stoney Sept, more than forty thousand strong, now they were less than five thousand. They had lost almost all their horse, only a hundred mounted knights and fifty free riders remained. At least the rebel armies didn't care to pursue them, Lucius was certain they could have been scattered by a single cavalry charge, so low was the morale of the men.

Lucius was hungry, they had left their food supplies behind when they retreated, and what little they had rescued they left behind when they crossed the upper Blackwater. Lord Connington had secured some supplies from house Gaunt, but they would not arrive until midday. He could wait, hunger was something an army man learned to live with.

His thoughts drifted back to the day of the battle. Ser Myles had commanded him to stand guard on one of the sentry towers. As soon as he saw the cavalry charge towards the city he knew that something was terribly wrong. He alerted the men on the wall and the gatehouse and took charge of its defence. There were no knights at the walls, only levies, farmers with poor equipment and no experience, he must have looked lordly enough for them because they listened without complaint. When the rebels tried to take the gate Lucius led the defence that repelled them. Twice they tried to take the gatehouse, twice Lucius led a ragtag mess of farmer boys clad in leather carrying rusted swords to hold them off.

Eventually, the rebel horse realized the gate wouldn't open and they moved on in search of another way into the town, the rebel knights inside the wall were cut down by the loyalists who arrived to relieve the assault on the gate. The battle didn't last long and from the wall, Lucius could see how the rebel army cut down the loyalists through the streets, soon retreating men began to arrive at the gate looking for a way out, Lucius intended on keeping it closed, he didn't want the army to leave the safety of the walls only to be picked piece by piece by the enemy cavalry.

Soon enough Lord Connington arrived at the gates and ordered them to be opened, he organized a defensive line to hold their rear as long as possible while he commanded the retreat in as much order as he could. An hour later they were marching away from Stoney Sept with little more than a tenth of their initial numbers, Lucius expected the enemy to pursue and crush them, but apparently, Lord Connington had defeated both Denys Arryn and Hoster Tully in single combat, leaving them bleeding in the streets of stone, whether they were dead or injured Lucius didn't know, but the rebels decided to stay put in Stoney Sept, giving no pursuit. The state of two of their most important commanders probably played a role in that decision.

The rebels were gaining a clear advantage in the war, not only they had defeated the loyalist host, but now it was clear that the Tullys were siding with the rebels, and with them most of the Riverlands. Prince Rhaegar was nowhere to be found, King Aerys was unfit to command the war in any way, and the loyalist might have an advantage in sheer numbers still, but there was no clear leadership. Jon Connington seemed like he was taking the role of the leader of the loyalist war effort, he was young and had just been defeated but Lucius thought the young Lord had potential, a rallying figure was what the loyalists needed.

Maesters and septas began to enter the tent and the noise took Lucius away from his thoughts. The sun must already have come then. Lucius stood up and whispered goodbye to his unconscious friends, he had duties in the camp he had to attend to.
 
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Absolutely, the rebel cause winning is still the canon ending though, that's why I'm edging my bet on this one.
And during Aurelian time the empire spliting and falling apart is the most probable option. Seen how his victory and reunification was seen as a miracle.
Add to that the Aurelian the loyalists are the only people who helped him be anything but a peasant, and the rampages Hoster Tully will do among the peasants of the lords loyal to the crown and it is an easy was to remain loyal.
 
Caerimonia (Chapter XVIII)
Ben

The smell of shit was everywhere, at every time. Ben woke up to the smell of shit, he ate breakfast stained with the smell of shit, he laid in bed for days and weeks, and the smell of shit was there for every moment, in the best of moments it was only the smell of shit, sometimes it was worse.

Lord Connington had been banished by the King; Lucius told him a day after they arrived at King's Landing. That had been a month ago. A new army was being gathered outside the city on the camp of what remained of Connington's host.

They had stayed in the camp for a week until Lucius ran into Ferret while wandering in the city. The little thief had been happy to see them, he was much more impressive than when Ben first met him. At first Ben hadn't recognized him, he wore mail armour and was clad in a golden woollen cloak, on his belt a dirk and a cudgel, and on his hand a spear. The thief had greeted him warmly and told them he had moved back to King's Landing after the tourney, old Tommard had joined him, they were neighbours of sorts, and they had pooled ten gold dragons together and bought a spacious stone house.

Ferret offered them to stay there until Ben recovered, for a price. Lucius liked the idea of a more comfortable place to stay and agreed. Ferret had asked for ten silver stags, but Lucius gave him a golden dragon. The thief was speechless, and Ben noticed he almost rejected the excessive overpayment, but Lucius had only laughed, he said there was no need for paying among friends and the golden dragon was a gift, to ease the burden, or lack of it, of Ferret's purse. Ben kept six of his dragons well hidden, it was a great amount of money, and he didn't know how to expend it, but he wouldn't give it away either, the other he had exchanged for silver stags in Dragonstone and half of it was still in his purse. Lucius seemed to be more openhanded with his money, at least with friends, he haggled like an old fishmonger otherwise.

The two-storey house was big, made of sturdy stone, it was some streets away from Cobbler's Square. The first floor had no dividing walls, a big table was at the centre of the hall, and behind it a hearth. Next to the hearth, a small kitchen, some hooks with hanging iron pots, and pans, and some wooden ladles rested among other cooking tools, shelves were placed next to the kitchen most empty but some had flour and vegetables. The second floor had four bedrooms, but one of them was empty. Finally, the roof was mostly empty, but there were some wooden stools there, Tommard and Ferret had gotten used to going there on the late afternoons before dinner and shared a drink or two, or three or four.

Lucius didn't want Ben to go up there until a few days ago. There were a lot of things Lucius didn't want Ben doing, on their time in Ferret's house he had taken to carrying a wooden stick around and lightly hitting Ben on the head with it whenever he thought Ben wasn't worrying about his injuries enough. He worried too much, but Ben understood, he had been lucky his broken rib didn't damage his insides, the maesters had said. Now it had been a month already and he could walk without pain, but Lucius and his stick kept him from doing much besides that.

He noticed it again, the smell of shit. He was so distracted he hadn't noticed it for a moment. With a sigh, he got up from his bed. The room Ferret had given them was bare beyond the big wooden bed with a comfy straw mattress. The bed was big enough for five people, for his future kids, Ferret had said, he certainly was living well after the tournament. Ben's family slept on a single bed, they had made a small mattress for Lucius when he had arrived, but he slept on the floor. Their cottage was made of wood too, not stone.

He stood up, on one of the corners of the rooms there was a cluster of stuff, a mace and some armour, clothes and a belt bag. His stuff. It wasn't much, but it was his. He wouldn't need most of it soon enough, he thought sadly. He turned his eyes back to the bed, at the foot of it in the middle there was a white tunic. Lucius had taken him to the Street of Looms the day before, they had bought two plain white tunics, and they would need them for tonight. Ben couldn't quite believe it yet.

Prince Rhaegar had returned to the capital two weeks ago, he was too busy raising an army to bother with the likes of Ben, but two days ago a man had come knocking at Ferret's door. He came all the way from the Red Keep. The prince had learned of Ben's and Lucius' role in the Battle of the Bells and had decided to knight them. Knight him! A knight all right and proper, that was all Ben had dreamed to be since he could dream. The prince was so touched by Ben's bravery during the battle and of his rescue of Ser Myles that he had decided they would do their vigil on the Sept of Baelor, and they would be knighted on the King's Square, directly in front of the Red Keep. The High Septon himself would be the one to anoint them! The messenger had also informed them that in thanks for saving his friend's life, he would personally pay for their own plate and warhorses. Ben wasn't so excited about the warhorse, he didn't much like the beasts, but everything else. It was a dream come true.

He left the tunic where it was, he wouldn't need it until later. He went down the stairs and found Lucius breaking his fast who greeted him with a silent nod, next to him was Tommard. The old man was tending to a young boy's broken finger by applying some ointment on it, next to the crying boy sat his mother suspiciously watching everything old Tommard did. Ben sat next to Lucius where food was waiting, his raven-haired friend had taken care of feeding him since he was injured and had refused to stop doing so until he was completely healed. Ben complained, but it was a nice gesture.

He drank some water ignoring Tommard's noisy client. He began eating the oat porridge with milk and honey Lucius had made for him, stopping only to drink some water or take a bite from some of the bread and cheese there was on the table. The breakfasts here were way better than the ones back on the farm, although they were worse than the ones they were given while in Dragonstone.

He ate in silence, and when he finished, he cleaned the table in silence. As he sat down again Tommard ruffled the boy's hair and turned to his mother. "That'd be five groats," Tommard grunted. The mother took some coins from her purse and slipped them into his hand. "Thank you, master healer." The woman bowed slightly before taking her son by his arm and left.

"You ought to find another place to treat your patients Tommard, it's no good to break your fast while some old man stitches wounds next to you spilling blood all over the table where you will have to eat supper later," Lucius observed. "Bah!" Tommard dismissed him with a wave of his hand. "Quit it with your whining. Ferret is away most of the day, working or drinking or whoring, once you are gone I can go back to treating my clients in peace." Tommard said with a harsh tone. Lucius shrugged and offered him some bread and cheese. Tommard cleaned his ointment-smeared hands on his pants before taking the bread and cheese and eating it angrily.

"You call it whining, but it's simply disgust. I don't think Ferret's future wife will take kindly to all the filth you smudge all over the table where people are bound to eat." Lucius pointed at Tommard with a piece of cheese. "Ha!" Tommard spat bread all over the table. "Any girl that scoundrels marry is bound to be nastier than me concerning filth. He is a rogue from Flea Bottom, no proper woman will wed a knave like him. He'll marry a Flea Bottom wench or a whore. Not sure which would be better." Tommard said as he swept his arm across the table throwing the crumbs of bread and the spat food to the ground.

"You are too harsh." Lucius laughed at old Tommard's tirade as if it had been a joke, Ben doubted it was, but everyone pretended the old man was joking whenever he insultingly ranted about anyone. Tommard huffed but said no more.

Lucius chattered with Tommard some more about happenings and weather, nothing that was of much interest to Ben. He was imagining Prince Rhaegar with a sword on his shoulder anointing him a knight, his mind wandered and eventually, he found himself daydreaming about being a knight and riding through the Seven Kingdoms, rescuing maidens and slaying beasts.

A pat on the back brought him back to the real world. "What?" Ben asked startled. "We are going to the Street of Flour. We ought to celebrate, let us enjoy the day before our vigil tonight." Lucius declared as he threw a red woollen tunic on the table. "Are you coming Tommard?" Ben asked the old man while he put on a pair of leather boots and the tunic.

"Are you deaf? Some knight you'll be, Ser Ben the Dumb his head is always numb." Tommard huffed. "I'll stay here, I've got to earn my coin." The old man stared at him like he was a dullard. "Ass." Ben simply replied, he wasn't gifted with words and his mother had beaten most foul words from his mouth when he was much younger. It was warranted in this case though.

As Lucius had said they enjoyed the day. They walked through the city watching mummeries and puppeteers, listening to singers and bards playing the lute. The city was vivid, the streets were wide at times, but they turned very narrow before one noticed, people came and went about their business they wore all kinds of colours and fabrics, some wore rags and others the finest of linens. When they arrived at the Street of Flour the smell of shit had faded for the first time since Ben set foot in the city, in its place the smells of a thousand kinds of pies, pastries and rolls danced around him, one moment he smelled an apple pie and the other a delicate pastry with a subtle hint of cream. There were dozens of shops along the street, Ben ate pastries and pieces of pie tasting something from every shop, he could keep this up for seven shops before he was so full, he couldn't eat another bite.

After that they went on the Street of Steel, they browsed a few shops asking about how much it would cost to have plate armour made for both of them. Lucius disliked the shops in the lower part of the street, somewhere in the middle between the low end and the top Lucius stopped at a shop that caught his eye. The owner of the shop was a stout short man with dirty blond hair and arms as big as Ben's legs, Lucius inquired a bit about prices before carrying on.

They then went to Fishmonger's Square and bought some cod to bring back to Ferret's house. They arrived there in the afternoon; Ferret had already returned from his watch by then. Lucius began cooking the fish along with some vegetables on the hearth. Ferret served a cheap wine on four wooden mugs. It was a bit early to eat compared to what they were used to, but they had to be on the Sept of Baelor by evening.

They dined plenty and drank little, Lucius had suggested not to drink more than one mug of wine while waving his wooden stick around menacingly. Tommard was his usual surly self while Ferret and Lucius jested and bantered, Ben was mostly silent. He was in equal measure excited and afraid about the ceremony he would take part in just a few hours.

"Will I have to call both of you Sers tomorrow? I'll not bow to that cocky bastard even if they crown him King." Ferret said smiling while pointing an accusing finger to Lucius who laughed. "You should practice! Try it out, Ser Lucius, it tastes sweet to say it, but I'm sure it'll be sweeter still from your thieving lips." Lucius said with a big mocking smile on his face. "Don't say such things under my roof! I'm no thief, don't you see my cloak? I'm a member of the City Watch." Ferret said as if offended, he wasn't, Ben knew, but one wouldn't be able to tell Ferret's queer humour if they didn't spend some time with him. Lucius huffed. "And promoted thrice in less than a year, a corrupt bunch of law-keeping outlaws is what you are. If you didn't buy those promotions then the moon is made of cheese and I have a pet dragon." He said only half in jest. "Slander!" Ferret shouted, but he couldn't keep a knowing smile from his face.

"That is a big word for you, you are coming far." Lucius taunted him. Ferret's face reddened a bit. "Don't mock him so. When I met you, you had an accent so thick I couldn't make heads or tails of what you said. You three are much more bearable now that you at least attempt to speak properly." Tommard chastised Lucius before Ferret could respond. "Fair enough," Lucius said as he backed off with an easy smile. Ben stood up and all eyes went to him.

"I think we should be going now, Lucius," Ben told him. Lucius raised an eyebrow. "It's a bit early still." He spoke. Ben shook his head. "We ought to arrive early, we ought to be thoughtful to the septas and septons who are preparing the place for our vigil." He told Lucius. Ben's mother was a very religious woman, if she as much as caught a whiff that Ben had kept a man or woman of the faith waiting she would smack him silly. Lucius shrugged and stood up.

They went upstairs briefly to change clothes into the more appropriate white velvet tunics and other garments, Ben wore his only pair of boots, he wouldn't need them for long anyway, as they would be barefoot from the vigil to the knighting ceremony.

A few minutes later they came back downstairs where Tommard and Ferret hugged them and congratulated them. "Go on, we'll go see your ceremony tomorrow. We'll drink to your success on your vigil!" Ferret exclaimed as they left.

They walked silently towards the Great Sept, although the city's loud noises didn't allow Ben to think much at all. Every step he took unnerved him more, he eyed Lucius walking next to him. Lucius seemed pensive; he looked forwards seemingly absentmindedly slowly walking with his hands held together behind his back. He was much calmer than Ben. Ben didn't know why but he was more scared at this moment than he had been at any moment during the Battle of the Bells, death didn't scare him as much as messing up now. This was everything he had ever wanted.

Before he knew it his feet had taken him to the Great Sept of Baelor. The Sept was the grandest place of worship Ben had ever seen. The gardens around the Sept were a colourful but serene place. They walked through the gardens and passed by the statue of Baelor the blessed, it was very detailed, and Ben could even make out a kind expression on the face of the devout King. He observed the seven towers, they were made seven tall towers made of the same white marble that the marble plaza around the Sept and the Sept itself. On top of the towers, there were seven giant pyramids made of crystals which painted the city with vivid rainbows as the setting sun lighted them sideways. Below the crystal tops, there were seven massive bells. They walked across the marble plaza, it was almost empty, a few people going in and out of the sept and some passing by. They climbed the steps of the sept and reached the doors of the entrance hall.

There was a young man with a shaved head waiting for them there, he approached and made a gesture for them to go inside. "I'm the Holy Brother Tybolt. You are knights-to-be I assume? Come with me, I'll guide you through the preparations for your vigil." Tybolt didn't wait for them to respond and began walking towards the entrance. The entrance hall was as magnificent as the rest of the sept. The walls of the hall depicted the history of the faith, as he walked a vivid painting of the Father bringing seven stars down from the skies and placing them on Hugor's of the Hill brow to form his crown. Above them, hundreds of beautiful globes of coloured leaded glass adorned the ceiling.

Before they entered the Sept proper, Tybolt led them to a relatively small antechamber containing only a fountain coming from the wall falling into a shallow pool. "You may proceed to take your cleansing bath in this room, I'll be waiting for you by the statue of the Warrior. You can leave your boots here when you are done, I'll come back and keep them safe for you until after the knighting ceremony." Tybolt told them before leaving, closing the carved wooden door behind him.

Lucius turned towards Ben. "How are you feeling?" He asked. "Like I'm in the seventh heaven. This is everything I've ever wanted." Ben said while taking out his boots and other clothes before stepping inside the pool. "Well," Lucius said before holding some water from the fountain and splashing it in his face. "Enjoy it, we've earned it. But I was asking about your rib, you haven't moved this much since the battle." He said. Ben just shrugged. "I'm alright, I feel like I'm healed already," Ben told him. "Good." Was Lucius' answer.

They continued to bathe in silence. Eventually, they stepped out of the pool and dried themselves with towels that were left on a wooden stool by the door. They dressed again but left their boots on the antechamber. They left the room and found Tybolt further down the hall, he guided them towards the statue of the Warrior, two cushions had been placed on the floor in front of it. Tybolt made a gesture encouraging them towards the cushions, they knelt on them. "You are to kneel before the warrior until dawn, you will know it is dawn when the room is lightened up with the colours of the rainbow. You may pray or remain silent as you, please. May the Crone watch over your vigil." The Holy Brother said before walking away.

The vigil was a long and boring affair, minutes passed like they were hours and hours like they lasted forever. Ben had to stop himself from closing his eyes more than a few times. He watched the statue for hours. The gilded statue stood twenty feet tall, the Warrior held a great sword and an ornamented helm covered his face. It was a pretty statue, more detailed than Baelor's, it conveyed no emotions. A tool of war. But there was emotion in war. Scared green eyes haunted Ben all night.

Ben's mind was wandering to the mysteries of the afterlife when a dim rainbow touched the helm of the Warrior. Suddenly he felt a finger poking the back of his head. He turned around to Lucius smiling at him. "The sun is up. Better not keep Prince Rhaegar waiting." Ben's friend patted him on the head and shook one leg and then the other. Ben stood up and blood came rushing down his legs, he felt tickles and slight pain, walking helped. The Sept was empty except for the occasional Silent Sister walking by them. The floor marble felt cold on Ben's feet. They left the temple and began their journey towards the Red Keep, another Holy Brother holding their boots was waiting for them at the door to accompany them on their path, but he didn't give them his name.

They walked through the streets of the city barefoot, Ben stepped over dirt and mud and smudgy stuff he didn't know what it was, and neither did he want to know. The people of King's Landing didn't pay much attention to them, the traders sold, the gold cloaks watched, and the smallfolk bought and worked and laboured. It took them half an hour to reach the King's square.

There they found a small gathering. Some gold cloaks kept the curious onlookers a safe distance away from the prince who was waiting for them in a black and red silk tunic. Two of the Kingsguard stood behind him, one was Ser Lewyn Martell, and the other Ben didn't recognize. Next to him stood the High Septon wearing grey satin robes and atop his head a crystal crown. Ben and Lucius walked toward the prince until they stood before him. "Kneel." The prince bid them and so they knelt. The High Septon stepped forward and anointed Ben with seven oils, and then he went to Lucius and anointed him. "Both of you have demonstrated honour and bravery during the Battle of the Bells! Your Ser, my friend, Ser Myles Mooton has spoken highly of your valour during the battle, as have a dozen other knights!" The prince spoke loudly for all those present to hear.

The prince moved towards Lucius and placed his sword on Lucius' shoulder. "In the name of the Warrior, I charge you to be brave. In the name of the Father, I charge you to be just. In the name of the Mother, I charge you to defend the young and innocent. In the name of the Maid, I charge you to protect all women. In the name of the Smith, I charge you to be diligent. In the name of the Crone, I charge you to seek wisdom. In the name of the Stranger, I charge you to be ready." The prince's sword moved from one shoulder to the other with each sentence. "Now rise, Ser Lucius Aurelius!" The prince said, Lucius stood up and Prince Rhaegar put his hand on Lucius' shoulder. "Congratulations." The prince whispered. The prince then moved in front of Ben. Ben was staring down while the prince was dubbing him, the prince was wearing a nice pair of black leather boots. "Now rise, Ser Ben the Daring!" Ser Ben the Daring rose and the prince hugged him briefly before looking him in the eyes. The prince's deep purple eyes stared at him kindly. "Thank you for saving Ser Myles." The prince smiled at him. Ben could see Prince Rhaegar was kin of King Baelor, he looked a lot like the pious King's statue when he smiled like that.
 
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