Plots

King's Landing

Street of Steel

Late 300 AC, Moons Prior to King Joffrey Baratheon's Wedding

The Street of Steel, a street in King's Landing beginning on the south west corner of the Fishmonger's Square and climbs up Visenya's Hill until the Great Sept of Baelor. Most smiths of the capital have their forges there. The higher up one goes, the more expensive the shops. At its top is the shop of Tobho Mott.

At this time of day, one can find a bustling traffic of customers walking in and out of Tobho Mott's shop. With the announcement of King Joffrey's wedding and the arrival of countless Lords and knights to King's Landing for the celebration, the traffic can be said to have increased a fold.

On this particular day, an assuming figure can be seen making his way towards Tobho Mott's shop. Were any of the passersby questioned on the man's appearance they would be unable to recall anything significant of him other than his brown hair, eyes, and plain face.

Overhead, a raven glides by and caws as the man enters the shop and a slim serving maid greets him.

Leaning down, the man whispers into the maid's ears, his words going unheard by all as they cause the serving girl's eyes to widen before she hurriedly scurries off to call Master Mott.

As he awaits the man turns his attention to the various wares that are placed on display throughout the shop. From swords, to helms, and even mail shirts, Tobho Mott's shop seems to possess it all and at a high quality at that.

"M'Lord." a voice calls out from behind the man, "The master will see you." says the maid.

With a nod the man follows the maid to a back room that seems to serve as a solar.

Entering the room, the man nods in thanks to the young maid as she closes the door behind him.

Within the room is an old man. He wears a black velvet coat which has silver hammers embroidered on the sleeves and a large sapphire hangs on a heavy silver chain about his neck.

"You say that you serve the King, yet it was only mere hours ago that I was visited by a servant of the Hand." says the man from behind his desk.

"No doubt with an order to rework Eddard Stark's valyrian steel sword into a proper sword for House Lannister." says the man as he looks around the solar and ignoring Tobho Mott's stiff reaction to his words.

"You are not a servant of the King, who are you?" asks Tobho Mott as he stands.

"You may call me Hassan, and I do indeed serve the King. I simply elected to be vague about which King I serve." replies the man as he approaches Tobho's desk and places his gloved hand right under a candle, illuminating the almost invisible direwolf sigil on his black gloves.

Taking a deep breath, Tobho's eyes widen before they quickly glance at the weapon closest to him, a simple sheathed longsword leaning on the edge of his desk.

"There is no need to be hostile Master Mott, the Lord Commander has not called for your head." says Hassan as he removes his hand from the desk.

"I thought that the members of House Stark were honorable, your Lord's recent actions haven't been the most honorable recently. Flaying a man, wiping out an entire house, and burning holdfasts in the Westerlands? Eddard Stark must be rolling in his grave." says Tohbo Mott with a glare.

"Due to recent events, House Stark has elected to operate under a new policy now. Honor is reserved for allies and neutral parties, enemies of House Stark shall no longer be treated with honor." says the man with a shrug. "With recent events can you blame them? Their Lord and Father was unjustly accused of a crime and executed while their King and brother was murdered under guest right and during a wedding." adds the man with a sneer.

"Fucking Lannisters." mutters Tobho Mott under his breath before turning to the man. "And where do I stand according to Lord Snow?" asks Master Mott

"Unless you act against House Stark by… let's say… melting and reforging Ice into a new sword for House Lannister, then you are a neutral party." replies Hassan "Of course the Lord Commander is very open to having you as an ally and is willing to pay a premium." says Hassan as he reaches into his satchel and brings out a handful of what appears to be blood red scales.

"What animal do these scales come from?" asks Tobho Mott as he inspects them, finding them quite hot to the touch and harder than any animal scales he has ever seen.

"What other animal do you know belches fire and has scales?" questions Hassan.

Startled, Tobho Mott nearly drops the scales as he hurriedly turns to look at Hassan.

"The rumors are true? Is there a dragon in the Westerlands setting fire to the holdfasts of the Lannister loyalists?" asks Tobho Mott.

"The Lord Commander is willing to pay for you and your people to move to the North, employ you as the head blacksmith of House Stark, and grant you rare materials such as dragon scales and valyrian steel to work with." explains Hassan.

Looking between the dragon scales and Hassan, Tobho Mott takes a few minutes to contemplate Jon Snow's offer. Rumors about the bastard have been circulating the streets, some outlandish and others plausible. One rumor claims that he had single handedly wiped out House Frey and personally flayed Roose Bolton for his part in the Red Wedding.

The second part of that rumor he's willing to believe for it's no secret that Roose Bolton was flayed and his skin was sent to Tywin Lannister as a gift from the bastard before the messenger who had delivered the flayed skin cut a bloody path through the Red Keep before disappearing; with the commotion serving as the perfect distraction for the bastard to save his sister.

However, all the rumors seem to agree that the bastard is a cruel and cunning man willing and ready to bring any terror upon the enemies of House Stark. Already there are rumors of the bastard allying himself with the Ironborn to plunder the Westerlands and the Reach. That rumor is one Tohbo is willing to partially believe considering the fact that merchants docking in King's Landing have reported other merchant ships heading to the Westerlands have been stolen, while others have reported that crops in the Reach or Westerlands have either been plundered or burned. In addition to the rumors, prices of food and other goods have gone up considerably, lending more credit to those rumors. Tobho Mott isn't sure that he wants to make an enemy out of Jon Snow of all people.

The bastard has already proven he can reach his enemies in King's Landing and the Lannister's response of completely militarizing the Red Keep does not instill any confidence in Tobho Mott that they can protect him, especially if Snow has more of those soldiers that can single handedly kill countless enemies. For all he knows the man in front of him is one of those soldiers.

Unlike Jon Snow and the Starks, the Lannisters do not have a track record of winning. Their one victory, the Red Wedding, has had the side effect of unleashing Jon Snow onto the world and ever since then the Lannisters have been facing difficulties either at the hands of alleged Ironborn reavers or at the hands of their allies from the Reach who are starting to question the worth of an alliance that brings them into the attention of Jon Snow.

By all accounts Jon Snow seems to be the better choice in the long term because whether he agrees to move to the North or not Hassan will no doubt be leaving with Ice and Tobho does not trust the Lannisters enough to not cruelly punish him for losing the sword. At least in the North he will be protected from them by the Starks.

"Very well Hassan, let us discuss terms." says Tobho Mott as he returns the dragon scales to Hassan.

…

…

…

King's Landing

Street of Silk

Unlike the Street of Steel which is located upon Visenya's Hill, the Street of Silk is a street of King's Landing located on the Hill of Rhaenys leading up to the Dragonpit by the west. The street is known for its brothels of varying expense.

Within one such brothel, a cloaked figure makes his way through the corridors towards a singing voice with none taking notice of him despite his black hooded cloak or the slightly glowing red brooch on the cloak's clasp.

Like a specter, the figure seems to glide his way through the corridors towards a door where the voice singing The Rain of Castamere comes from. Silently, the figure opens the door and makes his way inside, finding himself standing behind two Lannister soldiers each with a woman on their lap.

"You lost, friend?" asks one of the soldiers, causing the figure to momentarily pause before realizing that the soldier speaks to a different man.

"Forgive me for staring." replies the man before briefly pausing to glance in the direction of the cloaked figure. "I don't see many Lannisters where I'm from." he continues as he approaches the soldiers and momentarily passes his hand through a candle flame as he walks by it.

"I don't see many Dornishmen in the capital." replies the soldier.

"We don't like the smell." answers the dornishman as he takes a deep breath prior to sneering in disgust.

Before the soldier can say anything else, a beautiful woman in a revealing yellow dress runs into the room and grabs the man by the arm. Not far behind her is a man who seems to be an employee of the establishment.

"Come with me, lover." says the woman as she attempts to pull the man out of the room.

"Gods, look at this one!" exclaims the soldier as he leers at the woman.

"Sers, if you follow me I'll arrange for a private room." says the employer as he nervously glances between the Lannister soldiers and the dornishman.

"Why are you wasting a woman like this on a dornishman?" asks one of the soldiers. "Bring him a shaved goat and a bottle of olive oil." he adds before chuckling at his own joke.

Tilting his head with a raised eyebrow, the dornishman carefully regards the soldiers and the room before joining in the laughter.

"Do you know why all of the world hates a Lannister?" asks the dornishman as he approaches the soldiers, prompting them to stand from their seats as the women on their laps retreat to the back of the room, unaware of the cloaked figure near them.

"You think your gold, your lions and your gold lions make you better than everyone." says the dornishman as he glances at the table where a longsword is sheathed. "May I tell you a secret? You're not a golden lion. You're just a pink little man who's far too slow on the draw." he says as he stares into the soldier's eyes.

For a moment, the room is still and the tension can easily be felt by all.

Unable to take the pressure anymore, the soldier lunges for his sword; and as his hand wraps around the hilt, the dornishman plunges a dagger through the man's wrist.

With an anguished scream the soldier falls on the table and his partner unsheathes the sword at his waist.

"Longsword is bad option for close quarters." says the dornishman as he leans into the soldier's ear before looking up and staring into the eyes of the second soldier.

"When I pull my blade your friend starts bleeding quite a lot I'm afraid, so many veins in the wrist." he says with a grin as he twists the dagger in the soldier's wrist, causing him to groan.

"He'll live if you get him help straight away. So, decisions." he says as continuously twists the dagger into the soldier's wrist.

Unsure of what to do, the second soldier nervously grips the hilt of his sword as he glares into the dornishman's eyes. Before he can make a decision however, a voice calls out as a dwarf strolls into the room.

"Prince Oberyn, forgive the intrusion we heard that…" begins the dwarf before abruptly coming to a stop as he notices the situation in the room.

With a particularly hard tug, Prince Oberyn removes his dagger from the soldier's wrist causing him to scream.

Quickly coming to his friend's aid, the second soldier sheaths his sword and wraps his arm around his friend to help him out of the room, unknowingly walking past the cloaked figure.

"Apologies, my love." says Oberyn as he pulls the woman into his embrace for a passionate kiss.

"I'm here to welcome you to the capital." says the dwarf as he waits for the couple to finish.

"Ellaria Sand, my paramour." introduces Oberyn before pointing towards the dwarf. "The King's own uncle imp, Tyrion, son of Tywin Lannister."

"If there's anything I can do to make your stay at—" begins Tyrion before he is interrupted by Oberyn.

"What are you, his hired killer?" asks Oberyn as he looks at the man behind Tyrion.

"I started as, now I'm a knight." replies the man.

"How did that come to pass?" asks Oberyn with a tilt of his head.

"Killed the right people I suppose." answers the man, causing Oberyn to chuckle before turning to the back of the room.

"And you, my cloaked friend?" asks Oberyn.

Confused by the Prince's question, the others look to the back of the room only to realize that hidden within the shadows of the room is a cloaked figure.

"Very perceptive of you my Prince." says the cloaked figure as he steps into the light and removes his hood, causing Tyrion to sharply inhale as he takes a step back.

Noticing Tyrion's reaction, Oberyn turns to the dwarf and asks "You know this man, Imp?"

"I should hope so, after all as the dregs of society he and I are the same." replies the cloaked figure as he looks at Tyrion's pale expression.

"You are either the boldest man in Westeros or the dumbest." says Tyrion as he regains his wits.

"If what you say is true then he and I will be quite the pair." says Oberyn, causing Tyrion to pale further at the thought.

"The best of friends, my Prince. For you and I have much in common" replies the young man before looking at Ellaria and greeting her. "Sister." he says with a nod.

Looking at the man's northern features and his comment of being a dreg of society, Ellaria quickly makes the connection.

"A bastard of the North." says Ellaria.

"Not just any bastard, The Stark bastard." says Tyrion.

"Well that's a new one." comments Jon Snow with a raised eyebrow. "I can practically hear you capitalize the T in the."

"The Stark Bastard." says Jon with a flourish of his hands as if he were making a presentation. "You can also capitalize the B in bastard and add it to my growing list of titles. Jon Snow, the Bastard of Winterfell, the White Wolf, The Stark Bastard." adds Jon with a chuckle that Ellaria and Oberyn join.

"Why are you here Jon? Are you not afraid of being caught?" asks Tyrion.

"Of course not." replies Jon, sounding very much amused. "I personally walked my sister out of the Red Keep and into Winterfell, I can do the same for me." he says with a mocking smirk. "Now, why don't you run along to daddy like a good little cub. One must be this tall to participate in this conversation." says Jon as he brings his hand halfway up his chest.

Tyrion's face hardens at Jon's words and for a moment he seems ready to disobey before quickly thinking otherwise and making his way out of the room, his sellsword following in tow.

As Tyrion exits the room, the laughter of Jon, Ellaria and Oberyn follows him out.

"That was interestingly done my friend." says Oberyn as sits on one of the chairs with Ellaria positioning herself on his lap. "Though I must wonder, what brings the Bastard of Winterfell to the capitol. Do you not fear the Lannisters?" he asks as Jon pours them each a cup.

"I fear many things, my Prince, the Lannisters are not among that list." answers Jon as sits across the Prince.

"Truly? Then what are the types of things that you fear?" asks Oberyn.

"The Others, for one." says Jon as he sips his wine.

"The Others." whispers Oberyn as he takes a moment to think. "Do you speak of the northern legends?" asks the Prince.

"Aye. The cold gods, the ones in the night, the white shadows they are called. Said to be inhumanly beautiful, elegant and dangerous." says Jon, causing Oberyn to momentarily pause.

"You speak of them as if they exist." comments Ellaria.

"What do you know of magic?" he asks them

"I only know of theories, and that whatever magic was left in the world after the Dawn Age left with the dragons." replies Oberyn.

"By that logic…" says Jon as he looks into his cup with focus, "…the return of dragons should signify the return of magic." he comments before sliding his cup over to Oberyn.

With a raised eyebrow Oberyn reaches for Jon's cup and nearly drops it when he feels its freezing temperature. With eyes wide in awe the Prince carefully looks at the cup of frozen wine before passing it over to Ellaria.

"My good friend, you had my curiosity, but now you have my attention." says Oberyn with a grin.