Game of Thrones: A Cold Wind Blows - Chapter 1a: The gathering storm in King's Landing

[Davenrell]

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Jaime Lannister looked out across the hall. The few people who met his gaze had nothing but contempt for him. Kingslayer is what they were calling him behind his back. He supposed it was a step better then oath breaker. How many of these fools even once had the thought if he had not done what he did they would most likely all be dead by now. After several months he still heard that name whispered. He thought to him self "But would any of you have the courage to say it to my face?" Of course they wouldn't. He was the great Jaime Lannister. Anointed to the sworn brothers of the Kingsgaurd and the age of fifteen. Now he would always be known for the one act that broke that oath, and saved the realm.

The herald entered at that point and cracked his staff on the ground. "His Grace, Robert Baretheon, first of his name, ruler of the Seven Kingdoms. Her Grace, Cersei Baretheon, first of her name, queen of the Seven Kingdoms."

Lead by two of Jamie's "brothers" the King and Queen entered and ascended the stairs. Robert sat on the Iron Throne while Cersei sat next to him. Jaime couldn't help but notice she looked even more attractive when she was with child. He scanned the hall and made sure no one was giving any dangerous looks. After so long it seemed unreasonable that anyone would try to kill Robert but it was best not to take chances. The small council had gathered and started reading off the agenda. Jaime quickly was becoming bored. He almost begged for a assassination attempt.

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Outside at the King's Gate in to the city the guards stopped each person in turn asking them their business in King's Landing. The city was still on some alert and the gold cloaks had no intention on letting trouble makers in to the city. Other than that it was a typical day in King's Landing. Down the Iron road hammers pounded at the forge. In Flea Bottom large kettles boiled soup made of things that no one wanted to even guess to. Ships arrived and left the bay.

(This is just to get the ball rolling for those in or entering King's Landing. It is five months after Robert has been crowned and for the most part things are quiet. If you are at court I will give people some time to converse, or be bored, and if you are just entering the city you get to deal with gold cloaks. Doesn't that sound lovely?)

[z007]

Across the room, Princess Nymeria of Dorne was nearly as bored. Oh, there were things to pay attention to, even things she was supposed to be learning a reporting about back home, but after over a month at the court of King Beratheon, Nym was quite certain she could quote any given court day out by heart. At least in general.

So she fanned herself in the warmth of the audience hall and tried not to let her utter disattention to the wool trading disputes between Rosby and King's Landing or whatever it was they were debating today show too obviously. She hid her sigh behind a fan and instead watched the other nobles in the room, marking who was doing what with whom and who was missing and who was masking looking just as bored as she was.

Jamie could feel someone watching him from not too far away. The young Dornish Princess shared the briefest moment of camaraderie with the knight once he sussed out where the feeling was coming from and glanced over at her. She favored him with a sweet smile and a knowing shrug.

[Morgaine Darry]

Next to the Princess of Dorne, the Lady Morgaine stood, taking in everything that the young Princess might be missing in her boredom. Oh certainly, most of it was dull and monotonous, but the moment one turned her ears away, she might miss the sound of something no one else was meant to hear. Her eyes as well, for that matter, and so she scanned the room quietly, not really lingering on anyone in particular, unless something caught her attention. Without ceasing her observations, she leaned forward and murmured softly in Nymeria's ear.

"Best not smile too sweetly at the Kingsguard, Princess.. you might tempt Jamie Lannister to break his sacred oath - oh.. wait. Never mind."

Her lips curved in a smirk, but her voice was too low for others to hear and traced with a wickedness that only Nymeria ever heard much of.

[Bannon]

The gold cloaks had been watching the huge man since he joined the queue outside the Iron Gate. They were people who hated trouble makers, and whilst the behemoth didn't look like one, as such, they dreaded to think what would happen if he did decide to start trouble. By the crown, but he was massive! The haft of the great axe he casually bore propped on one oversized shoulder seemed carven from the whole trunk of a sapling. Two of the gold cloaks exchanged a look.

"That's a siege weapon he's got on his damned shoulder!" one murmured to the other.

"He doesn't need it to knock down gates! Look at the size of those fists!" his friend hissed back. "Gods above us, but he'd be a fine catch for someone's army."

"He'd be a fine army for someone to catch!"

The two men straightened up and stepped to brace their patrol leader as the giant moved to stand before him, the axe coming down off that shoulder and settling butt-first on the ground with an audible *thud*. All three men looked up, then further up, feeling small as the dark eyes regarded them.

"Name?" the leader asked, annoyed at the slight quaver in his voice.

"Bannon." The man's voice boomed and rumbled, though he'd spoken mildly. "Bannon of Bronzegate."

"And your business in King's Landing?"

"I am seeking my fortune as a sellsword." Boom, boom went the words like granite slabs falling onto packed earth. The man replied seeming to be used to, and thus uncaring of, the stares he was getting from others. His dark eyes were steady on the three guards.

"You intending to use that?" The leader pointed at the huge axe that would make an unwieldy polearm for a normal man. The giant looked at the axe, then back at the gold cloak.

"Not today." The three guards heard the faint irony in the man's voice as he lifted the axe back to it's rest on his shoulder. "So. May I enter?"

[Davenrell]

At first the Captain looked ready to turn him away. This sort belonged in Bravos or Pentos not here in the city of the Iron Throne. Finally he nodded and waved the man through.

"Keep it moving, and if you show up at the spot of any trouble we will know who caused it."

Inside the streets were full of merchants hawking their wares. People were crowded together and only parted to make way for people on horse back or wagons.

[Bannon]

Bannon moved through the crowd with an easy, unhurried pace. He did not fear pickpockets, mainly because his money purse was tucked into the neck of the thick woven tunic he wore under his armor. Any cutpurse seeking to lighten his load would need a ladder. He grinned at the thought.

He stopped at a stall selling meat pies, haggling for one before resuming his steady progress. He had no goal in mind right now save to gain familiarity with the city and, perhaps, to spot any opportunity that may present itself.

The large man wondered if they had bareknuckle tourneys here. He liked to fight, and it was a sure way to earn coin whilst waiting for something grander to come along. He paused now and then in his travels to chat to those not too busy, trying to figure out who needed a strong arm and keen blade, where his size and skill could be best employed.

[z007]

Nym hid her moment of cruel amusement behind her fan, the intricate design on the wood and cloth trembling with suppressed laughter. "Oh, Morgaine, if only that were the part of his oath he'd broken; the kingdom probably would still be in celebration. The women at least. The men would be fitting all their houses with new locks."

Her words were so soft that even her lady in waiting had trouble hearing them; the princess gave the handsome knight another, more appraising, look. He was such an odd contradiction in her mind, a man who'd killed his own king, but was one of the few Kingsguard that didn't indulge themselves with carnal baseness in spite of their vows to celibacy. Why keep so minor a part of an oath when you've already betrayed your King and true duty?

A sigh escaped Nym's lips, unaware of how long now she'd been watching the male Lannister twin. "At least they could let us play cards or chess? Something quiet but interesting." She sighed again, "I'm bringing a book tomorrow."

It was a common threat, but one the Dornish Princess would need a much more secure position in court to be able to pull off with impunity. Until then, though, at least the scenery was easy on the eyes.

[Kakita Zoyu]

Allyria slipped in the throne hall as surreptitiously as she could, her movements smooth and silent. She saw the looks some of the men turned her way, her head tilted to an aloof angle - there were none who she found worthy here, in the court of the Stag King. She would not have even come had not Maester Lorian insisted, as heir to House Dayne and companion to Princess Nymeria - she would have much preferred to continue with her 'dancing' lessons.

She glided up to Nym and Morgaine, checking to make sure her shawl was in place, concealing the sheen of her silvery hair. Since Robert Baratheon had assumed the throne, anything that reminded the young king of his hated foes, the Targaryens, was best not flaunted. She greeted Nymeria and Morgaine with a guilty grin, her mismatched eyes flashing. Nymeria's sharp glance noticed a strand of silvery hair tumble loose and wild, and a circumspect smudge of dirt low on her Dornish companion's left hand.

"Nym, Morgaine," Allyria said softly, noting Nym's sigh, catching the end of her last comment. "I've missed tidings of great import, spewed forth from the stag and his new kitten, I take it?"

Allyria followed Nymeria's eyes to the golden youth at the base of the dias to the Iron Throne. He was beautiful, true, and a fine warrior, so her brother Arthur had said of the boy who had been his squire and who he had knighted for valour during the defeat of the Kingswood Brotherhood. He may have even been worthy to wield Dawn had he not turned out to be a kingslayer.

But she had been at the great tourney at Harrenhal. In no way was Jaime Lannister the equal of Rheagar Targaryen.

[Davenrell]

Outside on the streets

As Bannon moved with the crowds through the city he stopped and inquired about work. One man looked him up or down before answering. "Well son since I am guessing you are no baker let me give you some advice. Unless your lookin to just lift and move things around the only work your like to fine is in enforcement or sailing. Now if the first is your cup of tea then I ma sure there isn't a whore house in this whole city that wouldn't mind you protectin the goods. As to the second you should head down to the docks and see if any ships are taken on new crew. If your lookin to join the gold cloaks then you should head up the hill there to Maegors keep and ask them." With that he walked off. It seemed like the best information Bannon was going to get out here.

[Bannon]

Bannon thought over the older man's advice as he found an out of the way spot to prop himself and finish his lunch. A landsman, he wasn't sure a life at sea would suit him. Working as a protector for a whorehouse might be fine work, especially considering the fringe benefits his youthful mind was all too ready to imagine. But being a gold cloak, now... there was something. Something higher. Something that no-one could look down upon as a profession.

The youth brushed pie crumbs from his armour and straightened up, taking a drink from one of the waterskins hanging from his broad shoulders. Settling the stopper back into place, he turned his dark eyes up, his gaze travelling to the edifice carved from red stone that loomed over the city. The Red Keep, the house of the Iron Throne, the center of the Seven Kingdoms.

Looking up now and then to take in the sights, Bannon made his way there.

[Davenrell]

As Bannon approached the front gates to the Red Keep three knights were crossing the bridge. One pointed towards him and said to the other two jokingly. "Hey is that the Mountain?"

One of the others laughed. "Only if he lost his horse and fell in to a swamp. I also can't recall ever seeing him carry an axe before."

The third cracked up and called out. "Whats the matter boy? Had to find something big enough to impress the ladies?"

[Davenrell]

Inside the court the petitioners continued to come. After what seemed like it must have been more than a day Robert finally stood and called an end to the petitioners. With that he stood and left. Cersei walked down the stone steps to the floor and approached the group from Dorne. As she approached she smiled warmly and held out her hand to Nymeria.

"Princess Nymeria you have been in our city for weeks and yet you have not dined with me. I will not have that going on any longer. As a guest from House Martell you and your ladies must have dinner with me in my banquet hall tonight."

[z007]

Nym took the young queen's hand, bowing appropriately over it and murmuring, "It would be our honor and pleasure, Your Majesty."

She smiled back, genuinely pleased at the offer. Her brother were both were disappointed that Robert had bowed to the Lannisters in his choice of bride, but having observed the man himself Nym held no envy for Cersei's husband. Her crown perhaps, but not the man himself.

The two of them were nearly of an age and nearly of a station to one another; this meeting could be the first real thaw in reception at court. Of what she'd seen of Cersei Barathean, Nym was certain that the two of them would feel strongly about one another, one way or another.

[Kakita Zoyu]

Allyria - Lyri to her friends - ducked her head, hiding a faint grimace behind a curtsy for the queen. Nym had accepted Cersei's invitation on all their behalfs before Lyri could think up a reasonable way to decline, so now she had no course of action but to add her thanks to the Princess'.

"You are kind to have us, Your Grace," Allyria said, adding her acceptance to Nymeria's. She noted the tilt to Cersei's head, glanced at Nymeria out of corner of her eye, registering her bearing, and wondered if she should try to find a way to smuggle in her blade to keep the peace between these two - she feared that the Queen and the Princess may have been too similar to not dislike each other.

She cared not a fig for the queen - she was just a woman who had let herself be married off like a brood mare. Prince Doran simply wanted another pair of eyes on his sister, to make sure the peace was kept. Besides, it was men like Tywin Lannister and Eddard Stark who deserved their vengeance. One day, she would see that cold-eyed Northman weep as she had wept.

Allyria was curious as to why Cersei Baratheon would seek their Dornish party out for a private dinner. The wounds were still too new, too raw. One of them was the sister to Elia Martell, Rheagar's wife. Another was the daughter to Willem Darry, who had fled with the pregnant Queen, saving her from Lannister and Baratheon alike. And she herself was the sister to the Sword of the Morning, the greatest of Aerys' Kingsguard, slain by that Northern dog, defending the Tower of Joy on Rheagar's behalf.

We cannot love her. Is she just a tool, or does she act of her own accord, and does that maker more or less dangerous?

[Morgaine Darry]

The last of the trio bowed her head with respect and smiled with polite reserve at the queen as she curtsied to her gracefully and mirrored Nym and Lyri's expressions of gratitude.

"We are most honored by the invitation, Your Grace.. thank you."

Curious eyes studied the pale queen though, as she turned her attention back to the princess. She, too, wondered what the woman had in store for the three of them, what possible thing Cercei wished to glean from meeting with them. For knowing what she knew about the queen so far, she wasn't the type of woman to do anything without a good reason. Including lunch with the Dornish princess and her near-outcast ladies-in-waiting.

[Bannon]

Dark eyes studied the three knights as Bannon didn't bother to slow his steady walk across the bridge. Common sense and his place in the world dictated that he ignore the taunts. But it was something older than civilised mores and traditions that rose to the surface on silent fins.

"Just showing the wares, Ser." He rumbled with an affable smile to the three as he came abreast of them. "That way, any lass that's tired of your sewing needle knows who to look for."

[Davenrell]

One knight couldn't stop laughing. The other two had gone silent and the one in the middle put his hand on his sword.

"You need a lesson in manners. Why don't you give me your name so I know who I am beating in to the cobble stone. I am Lord Bryant Harreck." The knight on his side only took a step back. The lord eyed the man carefully as he waited for a response. The third knight had gotten him self under control and now seemed to just watch with slight interest.

[Bannon]

"At your service, and as you wish, milord." The giant man turned, shrugging off his travelling bundle before bringing the axe down from his shoulders, the haft slapping into place into a palm the size of a man's head. A glint of fierce and terrible joy shone in the dark eyes as they looked into those of Lord Bryant.

"Bannon is my name, and I have never known an easy lesson. Milord." The statement seemed unduly ominous as he readied the greataxe.

Click to reveal..

Intimidate check to demoralise opponent

1d20=16 + 9 (Combat specialty) = 25

[z-Galiana]

The bay at King’s Landing was thick with ships, and the Sun Wind didn’t catch unusual notice. She was an old galleon, smaller than most, but still sea-worthy and fast. When she put into port, the only one to notice was the busy port master and the traders awaiting her.

The slim boy that disembarked was largely unnoticed by either of these groups. Dressed simply, he had a bow slung over his back and a small quiver with arrows in addition to the usual traveler’s pack. A common short sword hung from his belt. He eased down to the pier, keeping his balance easily on the swaying ladder. He looked left and right, then left and up. The hood of his cloak fell back, revealing a young, pretty face – or a face that had once been pretty, before the scar that ran down the right cheek had marred it. Frowning at the sight of the Red Keep at the top of Aegon’s High Hill, the boy shouldered his pack and started through the Mud Gate.

“Hey, Galin!” The shout turned the boy back, scowling at the unnecessary emphasis on the name. Dannin Torvel leaned over the railing, waving. “You’re forgetting your chests!”

“My che- I didn’t have any chests!” the young man shouted, turning back, his voice still unbroken by maturity.

“Sure, they were delivered before you boarded,” Dannin said, scrambling down the ladder to point at the two small chests already sitting neatly on the edge of the pier.

The boy bent and flipped open the lid on the nearest, staring in dismay at the contents. Pretty dresses in bright, sunny colors were neatly enclosed in the chest, along with their associated accessories. The pretty, scarred face twisted with rage; as Dannin began to laugh, the boy stood up and planted a foot on the edge of the chest and shoved. Wood ground on wood as the chest scooted backwards, then splashed loudly into the water. For a moment, the boy watched with satisfaction as the chest sank.

“Uncle is going to be pissed,” Dannin remarked, still giggling.

Snarling curses, the lad frowned and shucked off his cloak and gear, then hopped into the water. Dannin was laughing so hard at the sight of the boy diving for the pretty wares that he had to sit on the other chest. Bundle after bundle of once-fine clothing – some likely permanently ruined – was tossed up onto the pier; red silks and orange linens, soaked through with salt water, were heaped upon the pier. A decent crowd gathered to watch by the time the boy finished dragging himself out of the water with a rope in his teeth. They cheered as the lad put his back into it and hauled the chest out of the water.

Dannin took pity on his young friend and helped him put the soaked clothing back into the chest; wisely, he made no comment on the possible futility of attempting to save the objects at this point. He just packed them, then helped find two local boys with nothing to do and a desire for a copper piece.

“Galin, sweet Gally, it’s been fun,” Dannin said, slapping the ‘boy’ hard on the back. At the twisted scowl he got in return and the two-toned baleful stare, the sailor grew a bit more serious and added, “I will miss you. You livened up a boring trip. A word of advice? Learn to keep your temper, sweet one.”

“Shut up.” Galin muttered, starting to leave. After a few steps, she turned back. “Thank you, Dannin.” The Bravos-born sailor nodded and bowed his head a little, then waved cheerfully.

With the two boys struggling under her chests, Galiana Sands strode toward the Red Keep. Reluctance was clear in her walk, but she didn’t tarry; she was already late in joining the rest of the Dorne entourage. As she neared the Red Keep, she slowed even more at the distraction the giant was causing, smiling as the monster pricked the noble-pig’s honor. However it was going to get him into deep trouble, which would be a shame. The young woman made an instant decision.

“Bannon, there you are,” she said, stepping onto the bridge but not trying to push past the knights. “I said meet at the pier, not the keep. Nevermind, we’re here, and keeping Princess Nymeria waiting.” Her tone brooked no argument, and gave the lordling a way to back down without losing face. Galiana didn’t care about that; she was more interested in seeing Bannon keep his face – and to see what a man like Bannon would be like in the middle of Robert’s new blood-soaked court.

Click to reveal..

Galiana's Disguise check: 16

[Davenrell]

"Wonderful, we will dine tonight in the Queen's hall. Until then." Cersei walked out of the hall, Jaime just a few steps behind her. As he passed them the knight spared a glance to the three and smiled.

[Bannon]

The expressions that crossed Bannon's face flickered rapidly: surprise, confusion, followed by annoyance (at having his fun interrupted), followed immediately by understanding and caution (as common sense chimed in and told him that here was a way out that wouldn't see him in a stocks or dungeon), followed lastly by a resigned expression that wasn't entirely feigned as he shouldered his axe once more, seeming to be disappointed (which he was) and a little embarrassed (which he wasn't).

"Apologies, young master." he rumbled quietly, dark eyes meeting the mismatched gaze of the youth as he nodded his head in perfunctory subservience. "I misunderstood your instructions to me. I shall do better next time." Behind his practiced facade of 'lumbering oaf', Bannon was wondering who this young man was and why they had interceded. Simple good-heartedness? Or something more? He'd heard that the games of nobles and those that consorted with them were no place for a straightforward man. This boy was part of the Princess Nymeria's retinue, or at least so it seemed. Swallowing his bloodlust, he turned his eyes to Lord Bryant Harreck.

"I wish no quarrel, milord. It would shame the Princess to have one of her retinue involved in a brawl. With that in mind, I..." he paused, having obvious difficulty getting the words out. He gritted his teeth slightly. "I withdraw my remark."

[z007]

Nym returned the 'good' knight's smile; once the royal party was out of the room she gathered up her own retinue to depart. With open court over and their evening's activities arranged for them, there was little left to do in the Red Keep until nightfall. Her brother both, for a number of reasons mostly centering on their sister's propensity for taking family matters into her own delicate little hands, had ensured her lodging outside the keep: a well appointed manor-palace befitting Nym's station and large enough for any guests she might wish to entertain.

The three noblewomen and their guardians were paused in their departure by a disturbance at the gate. Three knights, a giant, a what appeared to be a cabin boy with treasure chests (one of them even still dripping) were taking up most of the thoroughfare; one of Nym's guards stood forward, his voice ringing out with authority and arrogance, "Stand aside in the name of Princess Nymeria of Dorne!"

Said princess was trying somewhat vainly to get a look at what was going on around her guards. The knights were known to her, the giant wasn't, and the cabin boy....

Click to reveal.. (Spot Check)

1d20=15

15 + 2 (bonus per Dav) + 1 (WIS mod) = 18

Difficulty was 16 per Galina's earlier roll.

Success.

"Galiana Sands! Don't tell me you've taken up treasure hunting?" Nym grinned and glanced over at the other person there she didn't recognize, her tone friendly and teasing, "Or giant slaying, hm? 'Ryn would be so proud." She pushed forward a bit from her guards, with the effect that everyone else had to move forward as well and the knights and lord bowed respectfully to their social superior. She held her arms out for her kin, unmindful of the dampness of Galiana's clothes and wanting to establish immediately that the orphan or (more likely) bastard of Dorne at the gates of the Red Keep was under high-ranking protection.

[Davenrell]

Everyone bowed as she approached but the lord rose back up quickly, hand still on his sword. "With all due respect Princess I am not finished with the giant. He doesn't know how to properly address..."

"Knights at attention! Make way for the captain of the King's Guard." Even the Dornish guards quickly parted as Berristan Selmy walked through the crowd. As he approached he lowered his head respectfully. "Princess Nymeria you must forgive the young lord here. He has forgotten that a knights worth is measured by his actions in war, and his words in times of peace." Selmy turned to the three and fixed the lord with a stern glare. "You three have training to see to as I recall. I would leave before the King hears of his knights disrespecting the Dornish company."

All three bowed once more to Nymeria. "Princess please forgive me but I am afraid I must depart." With that the lord left quickly followed by the two knights. Selmy turned to the giant and regarded him.

"You best be careful...Bannon I believe it was. That one may be brash but he is also smart and won't forget this. Learn to watch what you say to the nobles son, their heads are often so full of them selves there is little room for thought. Luckily the Dornish often have more sense. Especially the women." Selmy gave a wink to Galin and walked back in to the keep.

[Kakita Zoyu]

Allyria had barely noticed the slight 'boy', her eyes drawn to the giant at the gates. Her hands itched, her first thought being that it was the 'Mountain', but she quickly reassessed as she looked pass his sheer size. Mercutio, her Guard Captain, keep a negligent hand on the pommel of his slim blade, his eyes appraising the giant, not with malice, but with instinctive concern for his charge. He stood with wolfish ease - if he had any concern about the difference between his blade and giant's axe-bladed tree trunk, it did not show.

Lyri pulled her eyes from the oversized man as Nym named the slight figure lost in its shadow, a rueful smile on her face. Wandering about disguised as a boy seemed like wicked fun, though she doubted that Measter Lorian nor Mercutio would appreciate her doing so.

She was following in her liege lady's wake, about to offer Galiana the silk handkerchief that she had pulled from her sleeve earlier to wipe at the dirt on her hands, when Ser Barristan Selmy rode up to Maegor's Holdfast. The white silk fell from her hands, her body tense, as all her attention turned to the Captain of the Kingsguard.

She didn't know what she felt about the knight dressed and armoured in white. Arthur had stayed true to his liege's last charge, unto making the ultimate sacrifice. And here Ser Barriston stood, championing the man that had risen up against the king he had sworn to defend. She wasn't sure if she hated him, or wished that it was Arthur who was still among the living.

[Bannon]

Bannon watched as the Princess rushed over to the 'boy' and the three knights became more hesitant, bowing to the royal. Bannon copied the gesture, somewhat clumsily and without dipping his head as was customary. As he straightened and the Lord decided to ignore his apology, the white-armoured Captain interceded, and the three knights were shooed away like troublesome boys. On hearing the Knight-Captain's caution, Bannon simply nodded his head politely, but said nothing. He feared no man, and had resolved not to since his twelfth birthday.

He bent and picked up his bundle, hooking it over his free shoulder, and looked at Galiana in the Princess's embrace. "My thanks to you, young master." he rumbled with a faint smile visible under his beard. "That would have been an ill-omened encounter but for you."

[z-Galiana]

"Cousin," Galiana said stiffly as she was enfolded into Nymeria's embrace. After a moment, she returned the hug, enough to satisfy her distant relative and free herself. She gave Allyria a nod and hoped it would be enough to avoid another hug, and Morgaine received another nod.

Her relationship with the family had been complex; as a bastard of a distant and absent cousin, she'd been granted unusual access to the palace at Sunspear. Nymeria had been like an older sister, insisting on pampering her and dressing her like some Seven-forsaken lady. Morgaine and Allyria had joined in this games, making Galiana feel like a doll. And she had enjoyed them, until the accident.

Her fingers with their dirty, broken nails rose to trace the scar on her cheek. The gesture was unconscious, and after a moment, her hand dropped. Her eyes flickered to Allyria again, meeting her eyes for a moment; she'd felt a kinship to the noble girl with mismatched eyes until she'd learned that the girl had been born like that. It had taken away their commonality.

Bannon's comments broke into her thoughts. She nodded to him and said, "It seemed a shame to let nobles do as they will." It seemed a strange comment for an orphan or bastard to say when allowed to keep such company as she did, but there was a sense that the nobles here didn't count in her considerations. There was a flash of old anger in her eyes as she added, "It never seems to benefit anyone when they are allowed to do as they will."

She glanced at Nymeria. "Where are you lodging? Perhaps we should retire there?"

[z007]

Nym nodded, holding in a sigh or retort to Galiana's comments; now wasn't the time or place to explain the difference between the palace at Sunspar and standing outside of the Red Keep. Normally she wouldn't have insisted on the hug with her taciturn relative, but the last thing in the world she wanted to do was write home to her favorite brother that something had happened to 'Lia while Nym was in the same city. Instead she let a grin tug at her lips and quipped back, "Well, the men, anyways."

She gave the giant in front of her an appraising look, quelling her own instincts when it came to men of the North. He wore no house colors or devices, and allies were often found in the most unusual of places. "Messer....Bannon, was it? Are you new to King's Landing? It seems you've had a less than pleasant introduction to the city, if that is the case. Might I offer you the hospitality of the Dorne while you here, as an apology for the brashness of Lord Ser Harrack?"

[Davenrell]

Due to the actions of players this thread is now at threat level 3....enjoy!

[Morgaine Darry]

The normally quiet Lady Morgaine stepped forward, next to the Princess, and nodded at both the giant of a man and the Princess's hot-headed bastard relative. The nod she gave might have seemed a bit curt, but it was softened by the smoothness of her voice, which held only the traces amount of insistence.

"Yes, we should most definitely take this inside, to more comfortable accomodations.. after all, it's getting on in the day, and I find the shift in weather doesn't agree with me. Perhaps arriving ships have carried in a chill wind. Shall we?"

Before your foolish talk of what nobles should and shouldn't be doing gets us all in trouble?!

[Bannon]

Bannon blinked, mildly astonished and humbled (not a familiar feeling) by Nymeria's words. A full smile broke out on his face, making it lose it's normally forbidding air and revealing his youth somewhat.

"Your ladyship has no need to apologise for the likes of him." he said quietly. "But I'd be honored to accept your offer regardless." He glanced at the Red Keep ruefully. "I think today isn't the right day to join the gold cloaks with that lordling around."

[z007]

The retinue began moving again, headed not too far from the Keep to one of the manor-palaces that lined the noble district.

"You've come to join the gold cloaks?" Nym looked the man-giant over again, several inscrutable thoughts passing over the young woman's expression. She frowned slightly, "I'm afraid you'll have a harder time if now. Lord Ser Harrack is not one to forget a slight, nor to forgive. Do you have a patron or sponsor?"

[Bannon]

"No patron, no sponsor, and naught but what I carry on my back and in my heart to call my own, ladyship." Bannon told her cheerfully. He took slow strides to keep pace with the princess, walking to the right of the ladies and their immediate retinue. He glanced over his shoulder meaningfully at the keep.

"And if the good lordling wishes to come and find me to deliver a thrashing, he'd best bring enough ointment for his own fat arse." he said with a grim smile on his face as he turned back to them. He blinked as it sank home that his language might not be appropriate for the company, then flushed a little. "Uhm... Your pardon, ladyships. Just a manner of speaking."

[Kakita Zoyu]

Lyri yanked her indigo satin shawl from her head, shaking her head and setting her lengthy silvery hair free. It was a sad day, that she had to worry about the feelings of a warrior-king like Robert.

She barely suppressed a giggle, picturing this big man paddling the small Lord. It would be child's play for him, I think. The small grin she gave Bannon was amused, and not in the least offended.

"Your words do not offend me, Bannon." She shrugged past her guards, Mercutio giving an exasperated sigh, and held out her hand to the young giant. "I am Lady Allyria Dayne, and I do not think you will find it difficult to attract a patron." She looked back over her shoulder, mismatched eyes sparkling, as she shared a grin with the other ladies. "What say you, Ladies?"

She leaned in a bit closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper that carried to her companions. "A word of caution, though. The smallest Lords often have the biggest pride, and don't always fight as men do, you understand? You would do well to find a patron to vouch for you."

[z007]

Nym fought to keep from laughing, her expression one of strained seriousness. Her men had frowned and shifted unhappily at Bannon's course language, but with no remonstration forthcoming from the princess, the moment passed with only Lyri's commment. Ryn would like him, I think.

Nym pressed a jeweled finger to her lips in thought at Lyri's question. "Well, normally patronage is granted either from a long standing arrangement with the family, or from commiting some beneficial act for the house that would be vouching for you. Or for swearing your sword to that house, of course. It's rather complicated for being so straitforward, isn't it?"

Her smile was all innocence in the face men's business, but her companions knew her well enough to know that she was well versed in matters of loyalty, debts, and oaths. She looked mescheiveously at the captain of her guards. "Perhaps a contest of arms could grant you a patron worthy of your size, Messer Bannon? Lia seems to like you well enough to try to keep you out of trouble, and her instincts on such matters are often spot on."

Her guards, most especially the captain, stifled sighs and shot the mountain of a man wary looks. None were particularly keen to be put up against the bohemouth, though it looked like the princess had already decided on her entertainment until the evening.

[Bannon]

Bannon gently took Lady Allyria's hand in his with a smile, nodding at her whispered advice. "I shall bear that in mind, ladyship. My thanks for your concern."

Cocking his great head to one side as he listened to the princess, the others could see a grin both jovial and ferocious cross his face. "I'd be happy and honored to swear my axe to a good House." he declared, then laughed, the sound like thunder. "And I'll rise to any contest of arms your ladyship sets before me." He winked good-naturedly at the guards. "Perhaps barehanded might be a kinder type of contest, if ladyship does not mind?"

[z007]

Several of the guards bristled at the implied insult, but a chuckled "Surely you lads aren't afraid of Messer Bannon?" from Captain Mercutio had the rest of the trip to the manor spent in bouts of bragging and jostling for who would be the giant's first opponent. Lyri's tutor caught his ward's eyes as the men picked out their pecking order, an amused tilt to his chin instructing her that this, too, was a lesson in combat.

Nym watched it with happy amusement; in the time since they'd started out for King's Landing there'd been little enough for her people to be happy or proud of. She put forward the best face she could, what good would it do to be maudlin now?, but the strain had started to wear on her. To hear others laughing and teasing and competing again was welcome to her heart.

[Kakita Zoyu]

Lyri gave Mercutio a surreptitious nod, indicating she caught his meaning. If it there was one thing Mercutio had taught her, it was that the concepts of parry, deflection, and thrust applied to more than only combat, they applied to social interaction and politics just as well.

Allyria appraised the giant with glittering eyes, a considering curve to her full lips. For a moment, she itched to try her blade against his axe. Mercutio said that she had learned her lessons very well, it was experience she was lacking, and this would definitely qualify as experience. But with wide eyes, she assessed the girth of his arms, the length of his axe, and reconsidered. Mercutio would be able to dance rings around him, but one mistake, and she was done for.

Stifling her competitive spirit for a moment, Lyri shared a grin with Nym and the other guards. "I'm sure we could manage to find some tourney blades, if that would suit everyone. Messer Bannon, I doubt we can find something the size of your axe, but a lochaber axe may serve."

[Davenrell]

As they approached the mansion an old hunched over man was standing outside. Maester Lorian leaned heavily on his cane as he watched them all approach. "Lady Dane it is time for your lessons. Princess Nymeria a courier came to the house and confirmed you all for dinner with the queen. I have told the attendants to draw warm baths and have clothes put out. Lady Darry there is a messenger waiting for you." With that he gently urged the lady Dane in to the house to the library.

[Morgaine Darry]

As they had traveled back towards the mansion, Morgaine had relaxed, as if somehow traveling further away from the Red Keep and the center of politics allowed her to be more herself. She chuckled slightly at the jests between the guards, but as Maester Lorian addressed her, she scowled faintly, looking a bit confused.

"Very well, Maester.. please show me to him?"

Who on earth would be sending me a messenger to me.. here?

[Bannon]

Bannon caught the gaze of Allyria Dayne and returned it inscrutably. He was used to men and women gawking or sizing him up (for one type of contest or the other), but the steady appraisal from those mismatched eyes was unusual. Dayne. A relative of Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning. Has to be. No wonder she went all stiff when Lord Barristan Selmy was around.

"Tourney blades sounds good to me, Milady Allyria. And a lochaber or a bardiche will serve me fine."

Bannon looked up at the mansion as they approached it, then stood by as the old man with the Maester's chain imparted the various news. He leaned on his axe and waited, as silently and patiently as an oak, for the Princess to determine what was to be his part.