On a Misty Morn

Disclaimer: This blog is not meant as a way to ridicule or to demean anyone. Any actions or deaths of characters do not represent any ill-will I may or may not harbour toward someone.

Well, that was certainly a delay if there ever was one, eh? Anyway, here's part nine, I hope you'll all enjoy it.

A Tale of War

Preparations for a Council

Words of War

A New King

The Battle for the Bloody Gate

Unseeing Eyes

Seven Sacrifices

The Battle of Harrenhal

Fallen Leaves

───────

His hand moved widdershins over his companion's back, the hair of a long since deceased goat feeling soft below his fingers.

Lord Manus' remains had been buried at dawn, and his crypt was guarded by a likeness of him, hewn out of white marble. The cloth draped over the statue's eyes could almost be considered real, if not for the colour it shared with the rest of the marble.

Goatman had found himself gravitating toward where his... friend now lay at rest. His gaze had directed itself at Manus' eyes, or what would've been his eyes, had he not lost them in battle.

The Kingslayer had not been far behind him, worrying for the fool, and had stumbled upon the man like this, standing opposite the marble effigy, unshed tears blurring his vision.

They stood together, shrouded by silence, for a time that seemed to last forever, until the Kingslayer's head turned to look at the man beside him, whose lips seemed to move ever so slightly, as the man presumed to hear works, spoken in a voice so soft, it was barely a whisper.

"Good luck, my love,"

She said, a gracious dove.

To war, he went,

She was left with lament.

Leaves strewn all around,

Met by blood, on the ground.

Return to her, he said he would,

But return to her, he no longer could.

Not all was well,

When the leaves fell.

───────

Through the chamber, Lady Ivy paced, her dress trailing behind her over the stone floor, dating back centuries.

At the table in the room sat Brynjolf of Mirrah, Sandy Bracken, and Qew Bracken, as well as Vyena Whent, as the Lady of Harrenhal, while the other three were trusted advisors of hers.

Her mind whirled with thoughts, with suggestions from those seated, regarding the fate of the Lord of the Crossing. It was one of the few matters they had to discuss, especially as Lennard Baratheon had fled, and required no justice, though they had sent men after him, hopefully in the right direction. It seemed like things were turning up again, for the Rivermen, which the false King gone, and the turncoats captured.

The Lady asked for mercy, on behalf of her former betrothed, despite his betrayal. The Brackens saw death as the only viable option. The Ironborn, however, sought a path inbetween, and offered his own two cents, speaking just a simple sentence.

"Let him take the black."

───────

They were in his chambers- no, not his chambers, they would never be his, not truly. He may be the Lord of the Eyrie now, but these chambers would always be Manus', in his eyes.

He had been ed by Goatman, who had simply sat down, not uttering a word to the Kingslayer, who did not mind, using the quietude to try and collect his thoughts.

"You can call me Dan," the fool said suddenly, breaking the silence, "instead of Goatman. It's... it's what he called me as well." He continued, putting an emphasis on 'he', though it was already clear to Royce that he meant Manus by it.

"Very well, Dan." He answered, a small smile on his face, which was answered by another smile from the person opposite of him.

Maybe there was some light in the darkness, after all.

───────

She had come to the courtyard, with the intent to see Lord Ra- no, just Ray- off, but upon gaining sight of him, she had promptly fled to the godswood, with Shaggydog in tow.

Though she had not wanted it, her vision became blurry, unshed tears obscuring her vision, and she sat down against a tree, the girl beside her.

"It will be alright, my Lady," Shaggydog said, in an attempt to comfort the Lady of Harrenhal, trying to find reason for her friend's sadness. She has not understood, how she still cared for him, despite his betrayal, but maybe, the betrayal had sunk in only now. Nevertheless, the girl felt weird, talking about the former Lord of the Crossing like the way she was doing; trying to comfort someone for a loss, she, frankly herself was quite happy with herself, ing how he had chosen her, back in the village.

At some point, she prevailed, and managed to calm her companion down.

A raven cawed suddenly, flapping its wings, as it flew to perch itself on a branch. When Vyena dried her tears, she gazed towards the bird, and found a nagging sense of familiarity with the creature.

It flew to the ground, in front of the pair, and appeared to caw inquisitively. The bird reminded her of her late father, a victim of greyscale, whose only companion had been a raven, in his last weeks, though reportedly, it had disappeared from the castle before his death, never to be seen again.

Both girls seemed to be entrances, staring at the animal, before it pecked at the ground once, and spread its wings, taking off again, though remaining within the castle.

"Come, my Lady, we should head back." Shaggydog spoke, breaking the silence. Vyena numbly nodded, only dimly aware of what the girl said to her, her mind focused on other matters, namely her father, and his raven.

As they ed through the courtyard again, they could see the last of the men leaving, before the gates were closed shut behind them. Almost under her breath, Vyena whispered something, that Shaggydog could barely make out.

"Farewell, Ray."

───────

───────

Noah had found himself in the gardens, relishing in the scarce light of the sun. For once, his mind was rid of all things regarding alliances, kings, and lords.

As soon as he stepped into the castle, he'd be rid of his rest, as the King resided there, for now.

King Darius I Willum, a man whom had the backing of many of the prominent houses of the reach. Noah had only lend him his out of fear for a civil war among his people.

He hoped the man had no aspirations, to extend his reign to outside the Reach, and was intending to delay him for as long as he could, should he find out about such plans. For all the Lord of Highgarden wanted, was peace for his people. For the realm.

For the Reach.

───────

It was cold, very cold, as he made his way through the Haunted Forest, the light of the moon illuminating his path as he went. No longer did a cloak trail behind him, something he still needed to get used to, as he had left the yellow cloak where everything had ended for him; Harrenhal.

All of a sudden, he stopped, his eyes drawn to a furry lump curled up on the ground. It did not take long for him to note it was a shadowcat, seemingly asleep.

He took out his blade, brandishing it, intending to kill the creature quickly, for he wanted- no, he needed- its fur, not trusting himself to be able to handle the cold much longer.

But, he noticed something. He walked around the beast, and found a woman curled up against the shadowcat's belly, most likely to keep her warm.

He watched her for a while, sword in hand, as she slept, silently debating whether or not to kill them both and take the hide.

But, the beast opened its eyes, and the girl woke up as well, bright eyes staring at him, framed by long blonde hair.

"Who are you?" She asked, wary of the man, who was holding his blade, causing the shadowcat to bare its teeth.

"My name is Lennard Baratheon." Was the answer, as he made no move to sheath his sword.

"They call me Khaleesi." She said, after a long period of silence. "Do you intend to harm me?"

"No, not anymore." Answered a starled Lennard, realising he still held his sword.

"You are not from here, are you?" Khaleesi inquired, ri, as the shadowcat stood on its paws as well.

"I am not." Lennard said, his eyes shining with a sort of regret or remorse, before taking on a determined look. "I was a King, of a realm filled with cowards and turncoats, but I intend to get my revenge. I intend to go south, and bring down the Wall, before I do the same to the rest of the Seven Kingdoms." He promptly spoke, feeling like he should. "Are you with me?"

Something in her drove her to agree, while another, more rational part of her mind argued. But, at last, she came to a decision.

"Yes, I'm with you."

───────

Well, that was it for now, I hope you all enjoyed, and thanks for reading.

-Ser Manus

#TWH