3
Caster, jon, tormund and ygritte make their way back through the dense forest after patching up the burly wildling. Caster couldn't help but steal glances at the strange egg-shaped rock nestled safely in jon's arms. Its presence seems to hum with an energy he couldn't quite explain but it is a mystery begging to be unraveled.
"What do you make of it Jon" caster asks, his voice low as they trudge through the snow.
"I'm not sure.. It's unlike anything I've ever seen before" jon replies, his brow furrowed as he looks down at the object.
"Aye.. It's a queer thing that rock.. We've seen strange relics in these woods before but nothing quite like that" tormund says, limping slightly from his wound and letting out a gruff chuckle.
"The Old Gods have left many secrets in these lands.. Best be careful with what you uncover" ygritte says with a nod if agreement, her eyes darting warily between the trees. As they near the edge of the forest, the sound of shouting voices carries on the wind. Caster holds up a hand and it sounds like the night watch patrol, "Edric's patrol" he murmurs, glancing to the two wildlings.
"They won't take kindly to our new... Companions" jon says and tenses beside him, his grip tightening on the strange rock.
"Leave that to me.. Tormund and Ygritte are under my protection" caster says, his jaw set with determination. They emerge from the treeline to find edric and his men, swords already drawn and faces etched with suspicion and anger.
"Lord Baratheon!.. We feared you lost but... What in Seven Hells are you doing with these Wildlings?!" edric calls out, his voice laced with relief and confusion. Tormund bristles at the term but a sharp look and raised hand from caster keeps him silent, "Stand down Edric.. These two are my new comrades" caster commands, his voice carrying the weight of authority.
"Yours my Lord?!.. I don't understand" edric says with his brow furrowed, his sword still raised.
"They've sworn their allegiance to me.. Which I won in fair combat.. They are under my protection now" caster says, his posture straight and unwavering. A murmur of disbelief ripples through the patrol, "But my Lord.. They're savages!.. You can't possibly trust them!" one of the younger rangers says, his face flushed with anger. Tormund lets out a low growl with his hand moving towards his axe but ygritte's hand on his arm stays him again.
"I trust them more than I trust a man who would judge others based solely on where they were born.. These Freefolk have shown more honor in defeat than many so-called civilized men I've met south of the Wall" caster says, his gaze hardening as he regards the young ranger. Jon watches the exchange with a mixture of admiration and trepidation as caster's words were bold, challenging years of ingrained prejudice and fear.
"My Lord.. I... I'm not sure the Lord Commander will approve of this" edric says while hesitating, his sword lowering slightly.
"Then it's a good thing I don't answer to the Lord Commander.. These two are under my protection and that's final" caster says with lips curving into a slight smile. Edric slowly and reluctantly sheathes his sword with the rest of the patrol following suit, "As you say my Lord" he reluctantly concedes, though his eyes still hold a hint of suspicion.
"Ya didn't have to do that little Prince.. You can't change centuries of hate" tormund says, as they make their way back towards the wall with his voice low.
"There's been enough bloodshed between your people and the Night's Watch.. Perhaps it's time for a new approach" caster says, shaking his head and his gaze fixed ahead.
"You speak wisely for one so young.. But the old hatreds run deep on both sides of the Wall" ygritte says, regarding caster with newfound respect.
"Then we'll have to dig deeper to change thing" caster replies, his voice resolute. As they near the imposing structure of the wall and jon couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation and unease. The strange rock in his arms seems to pulse with an otherworldly energy and he knows that their adventure beyond the wall was only the beginning of a much larger story.
"Here.. Let me take that.. Best not to draw too much attention to our... Discovery" caster said, reaching for the rock and carefully wrapped it in his cloak to concealing it from view.
"What do you plan to do with it Your Gra-Caster" jon says, eyeing the object with a mixture of relief and reluctance.
"I'm not sure yet but I have a feeling it's important.. We'll need to study it carefully.. Away from prying eyes" caster says, his expression is thoughtful as he fully secures the wrapped rock.
"My Lord.. Perhaps it would be best if the Wildlings waited here while we inform the Lord Commander of... The situation" edric says, clearing his throat nervously as they approach the gates of castle black.
"No Edric.. They come with us.. I gave my word they'd be under my protection and I intend to honor that" caster says, shaking his head firmly.
"Aye.. The little Prince has balls of steel he does!" tormund says with a grin, clapping caster on the shoulder.
"Mind your tongue you great oaf.. We're about to walk into a nest of crows" ygritte says while rolling her eyes but couldn't suppress a small smile. The gates creak open, revealing the bustling courtyard of castle black but almost immediately, a hush fell over the area as the brothers of the night's watch catch sight of tormund and ygritte. Jeor strides forward with his face a mask of disbelief and anger, "What in the Seven Hells is the meaning of this?!" he bellows, his hand instinctively moving to the hilt of his sword.
"Wildlings?!.. In Castle Black?!.. Have you lost your mind!" alliser says, his lips curling in disgust.
"Lord Commander I will explain.. When you calm yourselves" caster says, his voice carrying across the courtyard with a commanding presence that belies his years.
"Explain?!.. There's nothing to explain.. These savages should be in chains or on the other side of the Wall!" alliser spits, preparing to draw his sword. Tormund bristles with his hand moving towards his axe but ygritte grips his arm tightly, shaking her head in warning and mouthing let caster handle it.
"These 'Savages' as you so ignorantly call them.. Have sworn their allegiance to me.. They are under my protection and I will not stand for such disrespect!" caster declares, his eyes flashing with anger and his voice rising to match alliser's. The courtyard falls silent with all eyes fixed on the young prince as he stands toe-to-toe with the master-at-arms.
"Your Grace.. While I respect your... Unique approach.. Bringing Wildlings into Castle Black is unprecedented and potentially dangerous" jeor says, holding up a hand and silencing alliser before he could retort. Caster meets the old bear's gaze unflinchingly, "I understand your concerns Lord Commander.. We won't stay long.. I merely ask for a moment to collect my Uncle.. His guards and then we'll make our journey back south" he said, his voice calm but firm.
"Alright.. I'll give two horses for them" jeor says, a mix of relief and curiosity playing across his weathered features.
"Thank you Lord Commander.. I'm sure my Uncle's has had his fill of the Wall's hospitality by now" caster says, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Good riddance to the lot of you.. The Night's Watch has no need for a Usurper's son and his pet Wildlings" alliser says with a scoff, his face twisted in a sneer. Caster and tormund tense but ygritte and jon restrain their arms from attacking the master-at-arms, "Your prejudice blinds you Ser Alliser.. There's much we could learn from those who live beyond the Wall.. If only we'd open our eyes and listen" caster says, his eyes narrowing into slits.
"Well said.. Maybe there's hope for you Crows yet" tormund says, letting out a gruff chuckle and clapping caster on the shoulder.
"Don't get ahead of yourself Tormund.. We've a long way to go before these southerners see us as anything but savages" ygritte with a roll of her eyes.
"Very well Your Grace.. You may collect your uncle and his guards.. Then be on your way.. But I warn you.. Bringing wildlings south of the Wall is a dangerous game.. The other lords won't take kindly to it" jeor says with a clear of his throat, his expression stern but not unkind.
"I'm well aware of the risks Lord Commander.. But sometimes.. Change requires bold action" caster says, his expression solemn. As they make their way across the courtyard, whispers and suspicious glances follow in their wake.
"Are you sure about this Caster.. Taking wildlings south... It's unheard of" jon says, his voice low and urgent.
"Sometimes Jon.. We must challenge the very foundations of what we believe to be true.. These two are not our enemies.. They're simply trying to survive.. Same as anyone else" caster says, his gaze remained fixed ahead and his voice steady. They find tyrion in the library while surrounded by a pile of ancient tomes and a goblet of wine in hand. He looks up as they enter with his eyes widening in surprise at the sight of tormund and ygritte.
"Well.. It seems my dear nephew has been making interesting friends beyond the Wall.. Care to introduce me to your new companions" tyrion drawls, setting down his goblet.
"Uncle.. Meet Tormund Giantsbane and Ygritte.. They've sworn their allegiances to me and will be joining us on our journey south" caster says with a smile, gesturing to the two wildlings. Tyrion's eyebrows shoot up with a mix of amusement and concern playing across his features, "Wildlings eh?!.. My.. My.. You do know how to keep things interesting don't you nephew… Welcome to the world south of the Wall.. I hope you're prepared for the shock of civilization" he says, while addressing tormund and ygritte directly.
"Civilization?!.. Is that what you call it.. We'll see how civilized your people are when winter truly comes" tormund says, letting out a boisterous laugh.
"Mind your manners" ygritte says, her expression a mix of exasperation and fondness.
"Uncle.. We need to leave.. Tormund and Ygritte's presence is causing a stir" caster says with a clearing of his throat.
"Of course.. You've brought the Night Watch's enemies into their domain" tyrion says with a smile, sipping his wine.
"Perhaps Uncle and I'll rectify it" caster says, glancing to tormund and ygritte.
"Very well.. Let's be off then.. I must say.. I'm rather looking forward to putting this dreary place behind us" tyrion says, downing the last of his wine before rising to his feet. They prepare to leave and get the two horses from the night's watch, soon riding out of castle black and the strange egg-shaped rock safely hidden among his belongings. Caster couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation and knows that the path ahead would be fraught with danger and uncertainty.
Caster parts ways with tyrion on the crossroads from the wall to the winterfell, their paths diverging as tyrion heads back to winterfell and caster's group continuing south along the kingsroad. The air is crisp and cool while carrying the scent of pine and distant snow as they bid their farewells.
"Take care Uncle.. And try not to antagonize the Starks too much will you" caster said, clasping tyrion's arm.
"My dear nephew you wound me.. When have I ever been known to antagonize anyone" tyrion says with a chuckle, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Tormund lets out a boisterous laugh, "I like this little man.. He's got more balls than many Freefolk" he declares, slapping tyrion on the back with enough force to make the dwarf stumble.
"I'll take that as a compliment my large friend" tyrion says while straightening, shooting tormund an amused glance. As they watch tyrion's party disappear down the road towards winterfell on their horses. Caster couldn't shake a nagging feeling of unease, something in the air feels charged as if the very winds were whispering of troubles to come.
"Right then.. We've a long ride ahead of us.. Best we get moving" caster said, turning to his companions. They set off down the kingsroad with the hooves of their horses kicking up small clouds of dust. The landscape slowly changed as they ride, the dense northern forests giving way to rolling hills and scattered copses. Jon rides beside caster with his dark eyes scanning the horizon, "It feels strange.. To head south with Lord Stark and his daughters in King's Landing" he said quietly, looking over the scenery. Caster nods and understands the conflict in jon's voice, "You'll see them again soon enough.. I'm sure Arya will happy to see you.. Though you'll need to learn some skills" he assures his new squire.
"Skills?!.. Like how to bow and scrape to every Lordling you meet.. You southerners and your fancy manners" ygritte says with a snort, overhearing their conversation.
"There's more to it than that Ygritte.. Though I won't deny.. There's plenty of bowing and scraping to be done in King's Landing" caster says as he couldn't help laugh but as they ride or make camp. Caster finds his mind wandering to the capital, to the web of intrigue and politics that await them. He is unaware of the storm brewing on the horizon, of catelyn stark's rash actions and the consequences that would soon follow.
The group continue their journey south, blissfully ignorant of the flames of war that were about to engulf the seven kingdoms. The kingsroad stretches before them, a ribbon of possibility leading towards an uncertain future. A month and a half later the group were passing the gates of king's landing to head to the red keep.
"Gods it smells like shit and piss here" tormund grunts, his nose wrinkling in disgust as they navigate the crowded streets.
"Aye but you get used to it after a while.. King's Landing is a cesspool but it's our cesspool" caster says, well-accustomed to the city's less savory aromas. He couldn't help but feel a sense of homecoming as he gazes upon the towering spires of the red keep, despite the stench with its crimson walls bathed in the warm glow of the afternoon sun.
"I wonder what Lord Stark will think about me becoming your squire" jon said, a hint of uncertainty in his voice and riding next to him.
"Tell Lord Stark I pestered you to join me.. He'll understand.. You're a capable young man and I could use another skilled pair of hands by my side" caster says, giving jon a reassuring smile.
"What will your father the King say.. When he learns you've taken two Freefolk under your command" ygritte says, shooting caster a mischievous grin.
"My father will enjoy Tormund's company I'm sure.. He has a way with crude jests that even the most hardened of men find amusing" caster says, a playful glint in his eyes.
"The King and I will get along like a whorehouse on fire" tormund says, letting out a hearty laugh. Jon stifles a chuckle, his cheeks flush with amusement at tormund's crude analogy. Caster shakes his head and is unable to suppress a laugh as despite their rough demeanor, has grown fond of the wildlings during their journey together. They approach the gates of the red keep as caster feels a mixture of anticipation and unease settle in his stomach. The massive structure looms before them, its red stone walls glowing warmly in the afternoon sun. The sound of hooves on cobblestones echo through the streets as their small party make their way towards the entrance.
"Seven Hells.. This is where you southerners live.. It's bigger than the bloody Wall!" tormund says, letting out a whistle as he takes in the imposing fortress.
"Aye and probably just as useless when it comes to keeping out real threats" ygritte says with a snort, though her own gaze betrayed a hint of awe. Jon remains silent as his dark eyes scan the battlements with a mix of curiosity and apprehension. As they near the gates caster straightens in his saddle, adopting the regal bearing expected of a prince returning home. He could see the guards atop the walls eyeing their approach warily, no doubt puzzled by the strange company he is keeping.
"Open the gates!.. The Young Stag has returned to his Den!" caster calls out, his voice carrying the weight of command. There is a moment of hesitation, then a flurry of activity as the guards recognize their second prince. The sound of creaking chains fill the air as the heavy iron gates begin to swing open, revealing the bustling courtyard beyond. Caster leads his party through the entrance, the clip-clop of their horses' hooves on stone echoing off the high walls. As they ride into the courtyard and caster could feel the eyes of everyone present upon them. Servants, guards and courtiers alike, all curious about the prince's return and his unusual companions. A group of stablehands rush forward, their faces a mix of excitement and nervousness as they approach to tend to the horses. Caster dismounts with practiced ease, his boots hitting the ground with a soft thud but careful of his precious cargo in his satchel.
"Welcome back my Prince" one of the older stablehands said, bowing low as he takes the reins of caster's mount. Tormund and ygritte follow suit, their movements more brusque and unrefined with jon being the last, his eyes darting about nervously as he takes in the grand surroundings of the red keep. The towering spires and immaculate gardens were a far cry from the rugged simplicity of winterfell and he feels a pang of homesickness stir within him.
"Where is my father" caster inquires, his gaze sweeping over the servants. One of the younger attendants steps forward, "Apologies my Lord but His Grace is currently engaged in a small council meeting.. Shall I inform him of your arrival" he says, wiping his brow with a handkerchief. Caster waves a dismissive hand, "No need.. I know the way to the council chambers… Come let us surprise my father and his esteemed advisors.. T end to our horses and prepare my chambers for my companions" he says and turns to his companions with a mischievous glint in his eye, "They are to be treated as honored guests" he adds, appreciating the man's deference. The servant's eyes widen slightly at the mention of the wildlings but he knows better than to question a direct order from the prince.
"Follow me to the throne room" caster announces, his voice resonating with authority. He turns on his heel with his cloak billowing behind him as he strides purposefully across the courtyard. Tormund grunts in acknowledgment, his gaze roaming over the opulent surroundings with a mixture of curiosity and disdain. Ygritte seems utterly unfazed by the grandeur, her keen eyes missing nothing as they make their way across the courtyard. Jon trails behind with his expression a blend of awe and trepidation but as they approach the throne room. Several members of the kingsguard eye tormund, ygritte and jon warily, their hands resting on the pommels of their swords.
"Easy there lads.. We're guests of the little Prince" tormund growls, his gaze challenging.
"Aye and if you southern kneelers have a problem with that.. We'll be happy to show you the true meaning of Freefolk hospitality" ygritte says with derisive tone, her lips curling into a smirk. The kingsguard shift uneasily with their expressions hardening at ygritte's thinly-veiled threat but caster holds up a placating hand.
"Stand down.. These are honored guests under my protection" caster says and his voice is resonating with authority, "Mind your tongues.. We are in the Red Keep now.. Not the frozen wilds of the North" he adds, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes towards tormund and ygritte. Tormund grunts with his shoulders relaxing slightly, while ygritte merely rolls her eyes. Jon remains silent with his gaze fixed determinedly on the floor, unwilling to draw any unwanted attention to himself. Caster pushes open the heavy doors leading to the throne room, the hinges creaking with the weight of years. The cavernous chamber stretches before them, its vaulted ceilings looming high overhead. At the far end is the iron throne stands imposing and foreboding, its twisted blades of smelted swords glinting in the flickering light of the braziers.
"That's quite the chair you southerners have.. Looks like it could take a man's arse clean off if he sat on it wrong" tormund says, his eyes roaming over the menacing structure as they approach the throne.
"Aye.. It's a fitting seat for you kneelers and your love of pointy things.. We Freefolk prefer our comforts a bit more... Natural" ygritte says, her gaze appraising the throne with a mixture of disdain and amusement. Jon is quiet but his eyes betray a hint of awe at the sight of the legendary iron throne.
"According to the Histories there used to be more smelted swords.. Though mind your tongues my friends.. This is the seat of power in the Seven Kingdoms and it demands a certain level of respect" caster says, his stride unhurried as they make their way across the cavernous hall.
"Respect.. I'll give it that.. But it's a cold and unforgiving thing isn't it.. Fit for a King.. I suppose but not much else" tormund says, his expression unreadable.
"What do you think Jon Snow.. Reckon you could sit on that throne without skewering yourself" ygritte says, her gaze flitting to jon.
"I... Ygritte.. That throne wasn't made for the likes of me" jon says with his cheeks red, his eyes darting away from ygritte's teasing glance.
"Nonsense Jon.. That throne belongs to us all in a way" caster says with a laugh, clapping jon on the shoulder. As they near the small council chamber with the sound of muffled voices drifting through the heavy oak doors. Caster's gaze falls upon two figures standing guard of the venerable Ser Barristan Selmy, clad in his immaculate white cloak and Ser Meryn Trant with his sharp eyes scanning the approaching party.
"Prince Caster.. It's good to have you back within the walls of the Red Keep" barristan greets warmly, inclining his head in respect. Meryn regards caster with barely disguised disdain, compared to barristan his lips curling into a sneer.
"What's this then.. Bringing Wildlings into the heart of the capital" meryn says as his eyes flicker over tormund, ygritte and jon. Caster meets meryn's gaze evenly and is undaunted by the man's discourteous tone, "These are my honored guests Ser Meryn.. I'd advise you to mind your tongue" he replies, his voice carrying a subtle edge of warning.
"Aye.. You'd best listen to the prince southern kneeler.. Else you might find yourself on the wrong end of a wildling's hospitality" tormund says, his broad frame radiating an aura of barely contained menace.
"That's right.. We Freefolk don't take kindly to insults.. Especially from a soft southerner like you" ygritte says, her fingers idly caressing the hilt of the dagger at her belt. Jon shifts uncomfortably with his gaze darting between the two groups, silently praying for a de-escalation of the tense situation. Barristan steps forward with his weathered features creasing with concern, "Now.. Now let's not have any unpleasantness.. Prince Caster.. Perhaps it would be best if you introduced your companions properly" he said, his voice calm and measured.
"Of course Ser Barristan.. This is Tormund Giantsbane and Ygritte.. Both of the Freefolk from beyond the Wall" caster says and is grateful for the aged knight's diplomatic intervention, "And this is Jon Snow and my new squire.. He was a prospect I snatched from the Night's Watch" he adds, gesturing to jon as he stands ramrod straight with his dark eyes betraying a hint of nervousness.
"Welcome to the Red Keep friends.. Any ally of Prince Caster's is an ally of ours" barristan says, while inclining his head respectfully towards the wildlings and jon.
"Wildlings and a Night's Watch deserter.. This is highly irregular my prince" meryn says, seemingly unconvinced and his eyes narrowing suspiciously.
"Jon Snow is no deserter Ser Meryn.. Jon never took the vows of the Night's Watch and with the blessing of Lord Commander Mormont himself but also Benjen Stark.. Allowed him to become my squire.. And as for Tormund and Ygritte.. I fought Tormund and won.. Then both pledged allegiance to me" caster says with his jaw tight, his gaze hardening.
"Aye and we'll prove it to any of you southern kneelers doubt our mettle" tormund says and letting out a rumbling chuckle, his eyes twinkling with mirth.
"Don't worry southern kneeler.. We'll teach you the true meaning of Freefolk hospitality if you keep running that mouth of yours" ygritte says, her gaze challenging as she meets meryn's glare head-on. Caster holds up a placating hand and tries to ease the tension in the air, "Enough.. I will see my father.. There's no need for further unpleasantness" he said, his voice calm but firm and shooting both wildlings a look. Barristan nods with his features softening from relief, "Of course my Prince" he says and turns to rap his knuckles against the heavy oak doors, "Your Grace!... Prince Caster has returned from his travels" he adds, announcing their presence.
"Send him in then!" the gruff voice of robert echoes from within. Barristan pushes open the doors and revealing the small council chamber. Robert sits at the head of the table with his broad frame dwarfing the high-backed chair. Ned sits to his right with his brow furrowed in concentration as he pours over a scroll. Petyr Baelish and the Master of Coin, lounges casually in his seat and his sharp eyes flickering towards the newcomers with practiced nonchalance. Varys and the Master of Whisperers, offers a sly smile, his bald head gleaming in the candlelight. Pycelle and the Grand Maester, sits hunched over with his ancient frame trembling slightly as he struggled to adjust his chain of office. Renly Baratheon and caster's uncle, leans back in his chair with an amused expression playing upon his handsome features.
"Caster!.. Seven Hells boy.. You're back!" robert booms, his face splitting into a broad grin as he catches sight of his son. Ned's head snaps up at the commotion and his eyes widen in surprise when he sees jon trailing behind caster, "Jon?!.. What are you doing here lad" ned exclaims, his voice laced with disbelief. Jon swallows nervously with his gaze flickering towards caster for guidance as the prince steps forward, his bearing confident and self-assured.
"Father.. Lord Stark.. It's good to be back in King's Landing.. I've brought some... Honored guests from my travels to and beyond the Wall" caster greets, inclining his head respectfully. He gestured towards tormund and ygritte, who regard the small council with a mixture of amusement and wariness.
"Wildlings Your Grace.. How... Unconventional" baelish says with an arched eyebrow, his lips curling into a wry smile.
"Indeed but it seems our young Prince has had quite the adventure" varys says with a soft chuckle, his plump hands folded atop the table.
"Well this should make for an interesting tale!.. Tell us nephew.. How did you come to befriend these wildlings" renly says, being the jester and letting out a bark of laughter.
"Never mind that.. What's that Boy doing here.. Shouldn't he be at the Wall and preparing to take his vows" robert says, waving a dismissive hand and his gaze fixed on jon.
"Aye.. That's what I'd like to know as well" ned says as his expression hardens and his eyes narrowing as he regard jon. Jon shifts uncomfortably under the scrutiny of the small council, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment but caster steps forward with an unflinching stare.
"Lord Stark.. You'll have forgive me but I've taken Jon Snow as my squire.. He's caught my interest and I could use another trusted pair of hands by my side" caster says, his voice firm and unwavering.
"You've... Taken him as your squire.. Without consulting me first" ned says, his mouth set in a grim line and caster meets his gaze evenly with a nod.
"I apologize for the lack of propriety Lord Stark but the opportunity presented itself and I felt it was the right decision" caster said, his voice unwavering.
"Don't worry Ned.. The boy's practically a man grown and if Caster sees fit to take him on as his squire.. Then so be it" robert says with a boisterous laugh while ned's brow remains furrowed.
"Very well Your Grace.. But Jon.. This is a great responsibility.. I expect you to conduct yourself with honor and diligence" ned says with his shoulders visibly relaxing, though his expression still held a hint of disapproval.
"Of course Lord Stark.. You have my word" jon says, while straightening his posture and his dark eyes shining with determination.
"And what of these wildlings nephew.. Are they to be your squires as well" renly asks, his gaze flickering towards tormund and ygritte.
"Hardly Uncle.. Tormund and Ygritte are seasoned warriors of the Freefolk.. They'll be joining my Rangers" caster replies, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.
"Wildlings in your Rangers?!.. By the Gods boy.. You've got a knack for finding trouble!" robert says with guffaw, his booming laughter filling the council chamber.
"Aye and trouble is what we do best.. But you can count on us to keep your son safe" tormund says, a feral grin stretching across his weathered features.
"Don't worry.. We'll make sure your precious Little Prince doesn't get himself killed" ygritte says, her eyes flickering with mirth.
"Ha.. That pup need no protection.. Ask him about the Storm of the Freys" robert says and caster chuckles with a shake of his head ruefully.
"Now why don't you get some rest.. You've been riding too long and I'm sure your siblings would like to see you" robert continues, his expression softening as he regards his son.
"Of course Father... It's been too long since I've seen Tommen and Myrcella" caster says, grateful for his father's understanding.
"And what of you Jon.. I trust you'll conduct yourself honorably in your new role" ned says, clearing his throat and his gaze on jon.
"You have my word Lord Stark.. I won't let you down" jon says with a nod.
"Well this is all terribly exciting!.. I can't wait to hear the tales of your adventures nephew.. Perhaps over a flagon of Arbor gold" renly says while clapping his hands together, a mischievous grin spreading across his features.
"Soon enough Uncle.. For now.. I must rest and gather my thoughts.. It's been a long and perilous journey" caster says with a small laugh, shaking his head.
"Aye best get some rest.. We'll have plenty of time to swap stories and drink ourselves into a stupor later" robert says, rising from his seat with a groan. With a wave of dismissal, the small council meeting disperses, the tension and excitement of caster's return lingering in the air.
"Did you see the way that old kneeler looked at Jon.. Like he'd just caught him pissing in the Godswood" tormund says, leaning close to ygritte.
"Aye I saw.. Seems like He's got some explaining to do.. Best not get on the wrong side of that gruff old northman" ygritte says, her eyes dancing with amusement. As they make their way through the twisting corridors of the red keep. Caster couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over him as he turns to tormund and ygritte, a grateful smile playing upon his lips.
"Thank you my friends.. I know it hasn't been easy.. Venturing into the heart of the south" caster said, his voice laced with sincerity.
"Aye it's been an interesting journey that's for sure.. But we Freefolk stick together.. No matter where the winds may take us" tormund says, his weathered features softening slightly.
"Speak for yourself Tormund.. I'm quite taken with all these southern comforts" ygritte says, thinking of the soft beds and wine.
"Well.. You'll have plenty of time to indulge in those comforts.. For now I'll show you to your quarters" caster says with a mild chuckle. He leads them down a dimly lit corridor, pausing before a heavy oaken door. With a firm push, the door swings open, revealing a spacious chamber furnished with plush beds, a crackling hearth and a well-stocked wine cabinet.
"Here we are.. These will be your quarters for the duration of your stay.. Make yourselves at home" caster announces, gesturing for them to enter.
"Not bad.. Not bad at all.. Certainly an improvement over sleeping on the hard ground" tormund says with a grunt in approval, his gaze sweeping over the lavish accommodations.
"Ah now this is more like it.. No more freezing my arse off in those blasted snows" ygritte says, wasting no time and makes herself comfortable by flopping onto one of the beds with a contented sigh.
"I'll leave you to settle in.. But first I need to track down a couple of old friends" caster says with a smile at their antics, "You there lad.. I need you to find Slyvie and Ulthor and bring them to me.. Tell them Prince Caster has returned and requires their presence" he adds, turning to see a passing servant. The boy's eyes widen in recognition and he bobs his head eagerly, "At once my Prince!" he says and scamper off, his footsteps echoing down the stone corridors.
"Slyvie and Ulthor?!.. Friends of yours" tormund asks, with an arched eyebrow.
"Aye they're part of my Rangers.. Slyvie is a shield-maiden from Essos.. Fierce and cunning with a blade.. Found her in the Stormlands" caster replies, a hint of fondness creeping into his voice.
"A shield-maiden eh" tormund says with his eyes widening a little.
"Ulthor on the other hand is a northman through and through.. Father brought him in to train me" caster continues, a wistful smile tugging at his lips. Jon perks up at the mention of a fellow northerner, "Which house is he from" he inquires, his curiosity piqued.
"Truthfully I've no idea.. Ulthor doesn't seem to care much for such trivial matters.. He's a man of the old ways.. More concerned with loyalty and honor than petty house allegiances" caster says with shrug, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.
"Aye that sounds like a true northman alright.. No need for fancy words or frilly titles when you've got a strong arm and a sharper blade" tormund says, a rumbling chuckle escaping his lips.
"I'll bet He's just like the rest of you kneelers.. Putting on airs of being 'honorable' and 'true' while secretly lusting after power and prestige" ygritte says, stretching across her plush bed.
"You're wrong Ygritte.. Northmen like Ulthor and myself value loyalty and duty above all else" jon says, bristling at her remark and his brow furrowing in irritation.
"Actually Ulthor is not about getting his hands dirty.. He and I have done some less than honorable things" caster says, sensing the rising tension between the two.
"Come Jon.. Let's go and visit Tommen and Myrcella.. I'm sure they'll be eager to see their brother's new squire" caster continues, a warm smile spreading across his features.
"Of course.. It would be an honor to see your siblings again" jon says, his posture relaxing slightly as he fell into step beside caster.
"You two stay here and rest.. We'll reconvene later and discuss our next steps" caster says, glancing back at tormund and ygritte as they already made themselves at home amidst the plush surroundings.
"Aye go on then.. We'll be here enjoying the comforts of your fancy southern castle" tormund says and waves a dismissive hand, his attention already focused on the well-stocked wine cabinet and ygritte smirks with a twinkle in her eye. As caster and jon depart, the sounds of tormund's boisterous laughter and ygritte's teasing jests echo down the stone corridors.
Caster leads jon through the winding corridors of the red keep, their footsteps echoing against the stone walls. As they approach the gardens of Maegor's Holdfast, the sweet fragrance of summer blooms fills the air, a stark contrast to the pungent odors of king's landing.
"There they are" caster murmurs, a fond smile tugging at his lips as he spots two familiar figures amidst the lush greenery. Thirteen-year-old tommen and myrcella, the young prince and princess, were seated on a marble bench, their heads bent together in hushed conversation. Beside them sits their mother cersei, her golden hair gleaming in the sun like a lion's mane. Sansa is also present, her hands folded demurely in her lap as she listens intently to the twins' chatter. Caster and jon approach as tommen's head snaps up and his emerald eyes widening in delight, "Caster!" he exclaims, scrambling to his feet and rushing towards his second elder brother.
"You're back!.. We've missed you so!" myrcella says and is quick to follow, her face lighting up with a radiant smile. Caster chuckles and envelopes his siblings in a warm embrace with their joyous laughter ringing out across the gardens, "And I've missed you both terribly" he murmured, ruffling tommen's golden curls affectionately. Cersei watches the reunion with a carefully composed expression, though a flicker of disapproval flashes across her features as she catches sight of jon trailing behind caster but also caster ruining her time with her true children.
"Mother.. It's good to see you well" caster greets, inclining his head respectfully.
"Welcome home Caster" cersei says with her lips pursed ever so slightly but she manages a thin smile as her gaze flicks towards jon, her eyes narrowing ever so slightly. Sansa rises from her seat and offering caster a warm smile with a curtsy, "It's good to see you back safe and sound Prince Caster" she said cordially but her smile falters slightly as her gaze falls upon jon, her brow furrowing ever so slightly.
"Who's this brother.. A new friend from your travels" tommen asks, ever the inquisitive one while looking at jon with a quizzical expression.
"Actually you might remember him Tommen.. This is Jon Snow from Winterfell.. He's Sansa's half-brother" caster says, a warm smile spreading across his face as he looks at tommen's curious expression.
"Oh!.. I do remember you!.. You were there when we visited the North" tommen says as his eyes widen with recognition and turns to jon with renewed interest.
"That's right Your Grace.. It's good to see you again" jon says, a slight flush creeping up his neck at being the center of attention.
"Welcome to King's Landing Jon.. I hope you'll find it to your liking here" myrcella says, ever the polite princess and offers jon a warm smile.
"Jon's agreed to serve as my squire.. He's a skilled swordsman and a quick learner.. I'm sure he'll do us proud" caster says while placing a hand on jon's shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze.
"Does that mean you'll be training with the Knights Jon.. Can I watch sometimes.. I've always wanted to see real sword fighting up close!" tommen says, his face lighting up with excitement. Jon looks to caster and unsure how to respond to the young prince's enthusiasm, "We'll see little brother.. Perhaps you can join us for a lesson or two.. If Mother approves" caster says, ruffling tommen's hair once more.
"I'm not sure that would be appropriate Caster.. Tommen is still quite young for such... Rough activities" cersei says, watching the exchange with a carefully neutral expression.
"Come now Mother.. A little swordplay never hurt anyone.. Besides it would do Tommen good to learn some basic skills.. You never know when they might come in handy" caster says, meeting his mother's gaze and his voice gentle but firm. Cersei's lips thin but she didn't argue further and turns her attention to jon, "And you Jon Snow... Do you feel prepared for the responsibilities that come with being a Prince's squire" she says, her green eyes scrutinizing him closely.
"I do Your Grace.. I've been trained by Ser Rodrik Cassel.. Winterfell's master-at-arms and I'm eager to learn more from Prince Caster and the Knights of King's Landing" jon says, straightening his shoulders and meeting the queen's gaze steadily.
"Jon's always been very diligent in his training Your Grace.. I'm sure he'll serve Prince Caster well" sansa says, trying to say something nice about jon even if she didn't want to.
"Indeed he will.. And who knows.. Perhaps one day Jon might even earn his Knighthood" caster says, nodding approvingly at sansa's words but catching the bite.
"A real Knight!.. That would be amazing Jon!.. You could join the Kingsguard and protect us all!" tommen says, gasping in delight at the idea.
"That's... That's very kind of you to say Prince Tommen.. But for now I'm just focused on doing my best as Prince Caster's squire" jon says with his cheeks reddening further but there is a glimmer of pride in his eyes at the young prince's words. Caster smiles and is pleased to see his siblings taking so well to jon. Cersei watches the exchange with a carefully composed expression but her eyes betray a flicker of disapproval, "Caster a word" she said, her tone brooking no argument.
"Go on ahead.. I'll catch up with you shortly" caster says with a nod, turning to his siblings with an apologetic smile.
"A Bastard as your squire?!.. It is bad enough you have one in your Lion's Fury, Truly Caster" cersei says as tommen and myrcella scamper off while fixing her son with a stern gaze.
"Jon may be baseborn but he's proven himself worthy of the honor.. The same with my sister Mya.. Lord Stark himself gave his blessing for Jon" caster says with his jaw tightening and meeting her gaze evenly.
"And what of his loyalties?!.. Can we truly trust a bastard raised among the Starks to serve our family faithfully" cersei says, her lips pursed and her eyes flickering towards the young stark. Jon bristles at her words and his cheeks flush with indignation but caster places a calming hand on his shoulder, "Jon has sworn his loyalty to me Mother.. He may have been raised in the North but his heart now belongs to the Baratheon Stag.. You have my word on that" caster says, turning back to his mother with a reassuring smile.
"Very well... But do not let your affections cloud your better judgment" cersei says but is seemingly unconvinced and with a swish of her skirts, turning and gliding away while leaving caster and jon standing in the gardens.
"Your mother doesn't seem to approve of me" jon says with a slow exhale, his shoulders slumping slightly.
"Pay her no mind Jon.. She doesn't approve much of me either" caster says and clapping him on the shoulder, offering a reassuring smile. They set off to rejoin tommen and myrcella as caster couldn't help but feel a surge of optimism coursing through his veins. The next day caster finds himself striding purposefully towards his father's solar with purpose and poise. The corridors of the red keep were quiet in the early morning hours, save for the occasional shuffle of servants' feet as they go about their duties. As he approaches the heavy oak door caster takes a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation ahead. He raps his knuckles against the wood and the sound echoing in the stillness, "Enter" robert's gruff voice from within echoes. Caster pushes open the door to find his father seated behind a massive desk, a flagon of wine already at his elbow despite the early hour as robert looks up, his eyes bleary but alert.
"Caster my boy.. Come tell me of your adventures beyond the Wall.. I want to hear every bloody detail" robert booms, gesturing for his son to take a seat.
"Father.. What I saw at the Wall was... Concerning to say the least.. The Night's Watch is severely undermanned" caster says, settling into the chair across from his father and his expression growing serious.
"Undermanned.. Bah!.. They've always complained about needing more men.. What of it" robert says with his brow furrowed and his meaty hands clasping together on the desk.
"It's more than just complaints Father.. The Wall is in a state of disrepair and the few men they have are stretched thin.. If a large-scale attack were to come from beyond the Wall.. I fear they would be overwhelmed" caster says, leaning forward and his voice urgent.
"And what would you have me do boy.. We can't very well empty our dungeons and send every criminal north" robert says, his fingers drumming against the desk.
"No we can't.. But I have an idea that might help bolster their numbers without compromising the quality of their men" caster says, a thoughtful expression crossing his face.
"Well out with it then" robert says, arching an eyebrow and curiosity piqued.
"What if we were to ask the noble houses to send volunteers to the Wall.. Not as punishment but as an honor.. Each house could send ten to fifteen men.. Trained soldiers who would serve for a set period before returning home" caster proposes, his eyes alight with enthusiasm.
"Volunteers you say.. And how do you propose we convince these noble houses to part with their best men" robert says, stroking his beard and considering the idea.
"We frame it as a matter of duty and prestige.. Serving at the Wall would be seen as a noble calling.. A chance for second and third sons to distinguish themselves.. And when they return.. They bring valuable experience and training back to their houses" caster says, trying to warm his father up to the idea.
"It's not a bad idea.. I'll give you that.. Might even run it by the small council and see what those pompous arses make of it" robert says with a slow nod and a grudging respect flickering in his eyes, "But before we get ahead of ourselves.. There's something I need you to do for me boy.. Something only I trust you can handle" he adds, leaning back in his chair and the wood creaking under his considerable weight.
"Of course Father.. What would you have me do" caster says, his curiosity piqued about what his father wants him to do.
"I want you to take your Lion's Fury to Essos and find the Mad King's children... And Deal with them" robert says after drinking some wine and his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
"The Targaryens?!.. Father are you sure.. That's... A significant undertaking" caster says with his eyes widening and taken aback by the gravity of such a request.
"Damn right it's significant!.. Those dragonspawn are a threat to my reign as long as they draw breath.. I want them found and dealt with once and for all!" robert says with his fist slamming down on the desk, causing the flagon of wine to wobble precariously.
"It won't be easy.. They could be anywhere in Essos... And 'dealing with them'... What exactly do you mean by that Father" caster says with mind racing and running his fingers through his black hair.
"Use your imagination boy.. I want them gone.. Whether that means bringing them back in chains or... More permanent solutions.. I'll leave it to your discretion" robert says with his eyes hardening, his voice dropping to a low growl.
"Father.. I understand your concerns but is this truly necessary.. Viserys has no army and the other is but a child" caster says, feeling a knot forming in his stomach and knows his father's hatred for the targaryens.
"Gods Caster!.. Viserys could find one and One day try to take back what they think is theirs.. No it's better to nip this in the bud now.. Before they become a real threat" robert says, his face flushing with anger. A silence fills the room as father and son stare into each other's eyes, "I'll need time to prepare and gather information.. Essos is vast and the Targaryens won't be easy to find" caster says, nodding slowly and his mind already turning over the logistics of such a mission. Robert waves a dismissive hand as his eyes glint with a mixture of determination and barely concealed rage, "Speak to the Spider.. His little birds can give you the information you need" he growls, leaning back in his chair.
"Varys.. Are you sure we can trust him with something this... Delicate" caster says, his brow furrowing and a flicker of unease crossing his features.
"Trust?!.. Seven Hells boy.. We don't need to trust him.. The eunuch knows which way the wind blows.. He'll give you what you need if he knows what's good for him" robert says, letting out a harsh laugh and reaching for his flagon of wine.
"And what of the small council.. Should they be informed of this mission" caster says, his mind racing with the implications of this task.
"No.. This stays between us.. The Spider and whoever else you choose to take with you.. The fewer people who know the better" robert says with his eyes narrowing and his voice dropping to a low rumble.
"Very well Father.. I'll speak with Varys and begin making preparations" caster says, understanding the need for secrecy.
"Caster... I know this isn't an easy task I'm asking of you.. But it needs to be done.. For the good of the realm" robert says his voice uncharacteristically soft as caster rises to his feet and heads for the door. Caster pauses at the door with his hand resting on the handle, turning back to his father and seeing not the fearsome warrior king but a man burdened by the weight of a crown while haunted by the ghosts of the past.
"I understand Father.. I won't let you down" caster said quietly and with that. Caster slips out of the solar, his mind already turning over the complexities of the task ahead. He makes his way through the winding corridors of the red keep and couldn't shake the feeling that this mission would change everything of not just for the realm but for him as well.
Caster's footsteps echo against the stone walls as he navigates the labyrinthine passages of the castle. His father's words still ringing in his ears, the weight of the task ahead pressing down upon his shoulders. He approaches the chambers of the master of whisperers and caster takes a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation to come. He raps his knuckles against the ornate door and the sound seeming to reverberate through the empty corridor, "Enter" a soft, lilting voice from within calls. Caster pushes open the door to find varys seated at a small table, a collection of scrolls and parchments spread out before him and the eunuch looks up, a sly smile playing across his powdered face.
"Prince Caster.. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company" varys greets, his voice as smooth as silk. Caster steps into the room and closing the door behind him, "Lord Varys.. I require information of a... Delicate nature" he begins, his voice low and measured.
"Delicate you say.. How intriguing.. Please do enlighten me" varys says, arching an eyebrow and his expression one of practiced curiosity.
"It concerns the Targaryen children.. I have been tasked by the King to… Deal with them" caster explains, moving closer and his eyes darting around the room as if searching for hidden listeners. Varys' eyes widen almost imperceptibly with a flicker of something like surprise and concern that passes across his features, "I see.. And what pray tell.. Does 'dealing with them' entail" he murmurs, steepling his fingers.
"Whatever is necessary to ensure they no longer pose a threat to the realm" caster says, his jaw tightening and his voice dropping even lower.
"A dangerous undertaking my Prince.. The last of the dragons are not without their protectors" varys says, leaning back in his chair and regarding caster with an unreadable expression.
"Which is why I need your help.. Your little birds.. They must know something of the Targaryens' whereabouts" caster presses, hands behind his back and gripping his hands.
"My little birds sing many songs Prince Caster.. Some true.. Some false and many in between.. But yes.. They have whispered of the dragon's children" varys says with a thin smile, his eyes glittering with hidden knowledge.
"And.. What have they said" caster says, shifting his stance a little. Varys rises from his seat and moves to a nearby shelf where he retrieves a small scroll, "The girl Daenerys is to be wed to a Dothraki Khal.. A powerful warlord named Drogo.. They were last seen near Pentos" he said, unrolling the parchment.
"And Viserys" caster says, his brow furrowed.
"Ah the beggar King… He travels with his sister.. Though I hear their relationship is... Strained.. He grows increasingly desperate and desperate men are dangerous" varys says, chuckling softly.
"This is a good start but I'll need more.. Detailed locations.. Known associates and anything that could help me track them down" caster says with a slow nod, absorbing the information.
"You intend to go after them yourself?!.. A bold move my Prince.. But tell me.. Have you considered the consequences of such an action" varys says, regarding caster with a mixture of curiosity and concern.
"Consequences?!" caster says with his eyes narrowing.
"Oh yes.. The death of the last Targaryens would not go unnoticed.. There are those across the Narrow Sea and here who still support their claim... Then there's the matter of your own conscience.. Could you truly bring yourself to harm a child" varys said, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I'll do what needs to be done for the good of the realm" caster said firmly but has a flicker of doubt and pushes it aside.
"As you say my Prince.. I will gather what information I can.. But remember in the game of thrones.. Even the smallest actions can have far-reaching consequences" varys says, nodding slowly and a sad smile playing across his lips.
"One last thing Prince Caster.. Be wary of those you trust with this information.. Not all friends are as loyal as they seem" varys says softly as caster turns to leave. Caster pauses at the door and looks back at the enigmatic spymaster, "I'll keep that in mind" caster said, before slipping out into the corridor. Caster makes his way back to his chambers, his mind racing with the implications of what he has learned, before rounding a corner and nearly colliding with a small figure darting through the hallway.
"Oof!" a familiar voice says, as the figure stumbles backward. Caster blinks with his thoughts momentarily scattered, "Arya?!.. What are you doing running about the castle like that" he said, recognizing the young stark girl. Arya grins up at him and her grey eyes sparkling with mischief, "I was trying to catch cats.. Syrio says it'll help me be quick and quiet" she said matter-of-factly.
"Syrio Forel.. Well I suppose there are stranger ways to learn dancing" caster says with a chuckle, shaking his head.
"It's not just dancing you know.. It's water dancing.. The way they fight in Braavos!.. I'm glad I bumped into you actually.. I wanted to thank you" arya says with her expression softening and a smile.
"Thank me.. What for" caster asks, raising an eyebrow.
"For taking Jon as your squire.. He's always wanted a chance to prove himself and now he has one.. Plus it means I get to see him more often" arya said, her voice filled with genuine gratitude. Caster feels a pang of guilt at the mention of jon, remembering the task his father has set before him but pushes the feeling aside and focusing on arya's words.
"Jon's a good guy.. He'll make an excellent squire I have no doubt.. And who knows.. Maybe one day he'll be a Knight in his own right" caster said, smiling down at her.
"Do you really think so.. That would be amazing!.. Though I bet I could still beat him in a fight" arya says, her eyes lighting up at the thought.
"I wouldn't be surprised if you could little wolf.. You're certainly fierce enough" caster says with a laugh, the weight of his earlier conversation with varys momentarily forgotten.
"I should go.. I still have three more cats to catch before sundown" arya says, beaming at the compliment and glances over her shoulder. The young stark girl darts off, leaving caster to shake his head in amusement and as he watches her disappear around a corner, couldn't help but feels a twinge of envy at her carefree spirit. The weeks that follow were a whirlwind of activity and tension as news of tyrion's capture by catelyn stark spread through the red keep like wildfire, setting the court abuzz with whispers and speculation. Caster finds himself caught between loyalty to his family and his growing friendship with the starks. One afternoon caster and jon were sparring in the training yard but caster notices the worried crease in his squire's brow.
"What troubles you Jon" caster asks, lowering his practice sword.
"It's this business with Lord Tyrion.. I fear it will lead to war between our houses" jon says with hesitation and his tone low.
"It's a delicate situation.. My grandfather is not one to let such an insult go unanswered" caster says while nodding grimly.
"And what of King Robert.. Surely he'll intervene" jon asks, his dark eyes searching caster's face.
"My father... He chooses his battles carefully these days.. I fear he may not act until it's too late" caster says with a sigh, running a hand through his sweat-damp hair. As the days pass and tensions continue to rise. Caster finds himself spending more time in his private chambers, poring over maps and discussing strategies with his unlikely companions. Jon and sylvie sit at a small desk with jon's brow furrowed in concentration as he studies a detailed map of Essos. Tormund lounges near the hearth, sharpening his axe with slow, deliberate strokes and ulthor drinking from a flagon. While ygritte is perched on the windowsill with her keen eyes scanning the bustling city below.
"Seven Hells.. This place is as dull as a frozen tundra.. When are we going to see some real action" tormund grumbles, breaking the silence.
"Patience my friend.. We can't rush into this blindly" caster says, looking up from the parchment he's been reading and a wry smile tugging at his lips.
"Aye because sitting around like scared rabbits is so much better.. I thought you southerners were supposed to be all about glory and adventure" ygritte says, her fingers idly toying with the fletching of an arrow.
"This isn't some game Ygritte.. We're dealing with matters that could affect the entire realm" jon says, shooting her a reproachful look. Before ygritte could retort, a soft knock at the door draws their attention. They turn to see varys standing in the doorway with his powdered face a mask of polite interest, "Forgive the interruption my Prince.. But I have some information that may be of interest" the eunuch said smoothly, his eyes darting curiously between the room's occupants.
"What news Lord Varys" caster says, motioning for varys to enter.
"Who's this perfumed southerner.. Smells like he bathes in rosewater" tormund says, eyeing varys suspiciously and his hand tightening on the haft of his axe.
"I've told you Tormund.. He's the Master of Whispers" sylvie says, glancing the bear of a wildling.
"Indeed.. I am but a humble servant of the realm my good man.. And one who deals in whispers and secrets" varys says with a smile, seemingly unfazed by the wildling's gruff demeanor.
"Spill it then Spider.. What have your little birds been chirping about" ygritte said, her voice laced with impatience. Varys glances at caster and the prince nods his assent, "My little birds have sung a new song from across the Narrow Sea.. It seems the Targaryen siblings have left Pentos and venturing towards the Dothraki Sea" the master of whisperers says in a low voice, his words carefully measured.
"Are you certain" caster says, his heart quicken with excitement and apprehension coursing through him in equal measure.
"As certain as one can be in such matters my Prince. It seems the young Khaleesi has taken to her new role with... Unexpected enthusiasm" varys says, a small smile playing at his lips.
"The Dothraki Sea.. That's no small journey" jon says with his eyes widening and his voice barely above a whisper.
"Dothraki eh.. Now there's a people who know how to live.. Riding horses.. Pillaging villages and taking what they want.. Sounds like my kind of folk" tormund says, a spark of interest lighting his eyes.
"Of course you'd remember that you great oaf.. Is there anyone you won't try to befriend" ygritte says while rolling her eyes. Caster's mind races with the implications of this news as the wildlings bicker, "Thank you Lord Varys.. This information is invaluable" he says, his voice low and urgent.
"I live to serve my prince.. Should you require any further assistance in your… Endeavors.. You need only ask" the eunuch says, bowing slightly and his expression unreadable. Caster nods with his mind racing from possibilities but a thought strikes him, "Actually Lord Varys.. There is one more thing.. Do you have any little birds in Tyrosh" he says, lowering his voice.
"Tyrosh you say.. An interesting choice my Prince.. May I inquire as to your interest in that particular Free City" varys says, his eyebrows raising slightly and a flicker of intrigue passing across his powdered features. Caster leans back in his chair with a thoughtful expression on his face, "Let's just say I could use some new friends.. Friends who might prove useful in the coming days" he replies, his voice low and measured. Varys' lips curve into a knowing smile and his eyes gleaming with curiosity, "Ah I see.. New friends can indeed be a valuable asset.. Especially in times of uncertainty… Very well my Prince.. I shall have my little birds sing songs to find these new friends of yours" he says, tapping his fingers together lightly.
"Friends in Tyrosh.. What's so special about that place.. More perfumed lords and painted ladies" tormund asks with a growing interest.
"Not quite Tormund.. Tyrosh is known for its sellswords and mercenary companies.. And in the game we're about to play.. Having a few skilled blades at our disposal might prove invaluable" caster says, a hint of amusement in his eyes.
"Sellswords.. You southerners and your fancy words.. You mean hired killers don't you" ygritte says, her eyes narrowed with a mix of suspicion and excitement dancing in her gaze.
"Are you sure this is wise.. Mercenaries are known for their... Flexible loyalties" jon says, his voice tinged with concern.
"You're right to be cautious Jon.. But sometimes to win the game.. We need to take calculated risks" caster says while acknowledging jon's point and looks to varys, "I'm particularly interested in a company called the Second Sons.. Have your little birds heard any whispers about them" he adds, his expression serious. Varys' eyebrows raised slightly with a flicker of surprise crossing his features, "The Second Sons?!.. An interesting choice indeed.. They have quite the reputation… I believe they were last contracted by one of the Free Cities.. Though their current whereabouts are... Uncertain" he adds, considering his words carefully.
"Uncertain how" caster says, his interest piqued.
"There are whispers of internal strife within the company.. Some say their captain has fallen out of favor with his men.. It could present an... Opportunity for those bold enough to seize it" varys says, spreading his hands in a gesture of ambiguity.
"Internal strife.. Sounds like my kind of party.. When do we leave for this Tyrosh place" tormund says, letting let out a bark of laughter.
"Don't get ahead of yourself.. We don't even know if we're going yet" ygritte says but there is a glint of excitement in them.
"Patience my friends.. We need more information before we make any moves.. Keep your ears open Lord Varys.. I want to know everything there is to know about the Second Sons.. Their strengths.. Their weaknesses and especially any discontent within their ranks" caster says, his voice low and determined.
"As you wish my Prince.. My little birds will sing their sweetest songs and we shall see what melodies they bring back to us" varys says while bowing slightly, a sly smile playing at his lips.
"We may be embarking on a dangerous journey soon my friends.. Are you prepared for what lies ahead" caster says, his eyes alight with determination as varys glides out the room. The four look between each other but then to their prince with nods as tormund grins wide. Caster nods while feeling a surge of gratitude for his unlikely band of allies. As he turns back to the maps spread out before him, his mind raced with possibilities. He reaches for a quill and parchment with his brow furrowed in concentration, "What are you up to now" tormund asks, peering over caster's shoulder.
"I'm sending word to my remaining Rangers.. Arthur.. Bors.. Dagonet.. Gawain.. and my sister Mya.. They need to know our plans" caster explains, dipping the quill in ink and his hand steady as he begins to write.
"Your sister.. I didn't know you had another one of those" ygritte says, arching an eyebrow and her curiosity piqued.
"Half-sister.. She's one of my father's bastards but she's as loyal and fierce as any trueborn Baratheon" caster corrected, not looking up from his writing.
"She was born in the Vale but Caster met her and brought her into his Rangers" sylvie says but notices jon shift uncomfortably at the mention of bastards.
"And where are you telling these Rangers to meet us" tormund presses, his interest growing.
"Dorne.. It is good place to cross across the Narrow Sea" caster says, considering his words carefully.
"Dorne.. But isn't Dorne... Well not exactly friendly to the crown" jon echoes, surprise evident in his voice.
"Yes but I have ties there and it is the perfect place No one will expect us to gather there" caster says with wry smile but notices sylvie giving a sly look, "My Rangers.. The time has come for us to act.. Meet me in Dorne within two fortnights.. We have a perilous journey ahead but one that could change the fate of the Seven Kingdoms.. Bring only what you can carry.. Burn this letter after reading.. Your Commander and Prince Caster Baratheon" he adds, sharing the contents of his letters with his companions.
"Short and sweet.. But won't your father wonder where you've gone" ygritte comments, blowing air on her arrow.
"My father... He has other concerns at the moment.. And what he doesn't know can't hurt him.. This mission is between him and me" caster says with his expression darkening.
"And what of your mother and siblings.. Surely she and they will notice your absence" jon asks hesitantly, glancing to sylvie.
"My mother has her own games to play.. She won't miss me for a while I suspect… I will miss Tommen and Myrcella" caster says, his jaw frightening.
"You southerners and your family drama.. Makes me glad I'm a Freefolk" tormund says, letting out a low whistle. Caster finishes the last letter and carefully seals each one with wax while pressing his signet ring into the molten substance, "Now… We need to leave without arousing suspicion" he said, turning to his companions and hands the letters to sylvie as she slips out. Caster turns back to the maps with his fingers tracing the route from king's landing to dorne.
"About bloody time.. I was starting to think we'd never see any action" tormund says, a grin spreading across his face.
"You'll get plenty in Essos" ulthor comments with a deep chuckle.
"I'm ready my Prince.. Whatever lies ahead.. We'll face it together" jon says, his voice low and determined.
"Indeed we will Jon.. Indeed we will" caster says with a soft expression on his face.