"What in the seven hells is that man playing at?" Olenna murmured with a frown as she incomprehensively stared at Doran, who stood there calmly, looking very much unaffected by the chaos he had caused by his straightforward denial of the course of events, "Do you know where he is going with this boy?"
"I... don't," Robb replied with a distracted expression on his face, as the boy had only ever heard about this from Jon's point of view, and only roughly knew about how their capture of the Mountain and Lorch had been planned and what they had done afterward, but he had no idea of the statergy that this Dornish prince standing in the court had in his mind to defend this absurd claim of his.
"So Jon didn't tell you anything?" her voice asked in a low whisper.
"No, he didn—I mean of course, he did not," Robb replied hastily, catching himself at the last moment, "I do not think, that my brother even knows about what is happening here, after all, he has been out at the sea for so long," he replied as he cleared his throat and looked away, his smile looking just a little forced, 'Damn it! Why did my father never teach me how to deal with these cunning old crones?' he crused internally before the image of his honest father appeared in his mind, 'He probably doesn't know either,' he snorted internally.
"Is that so?" Olenna hummed as she leaned back with a nonchalant expression on her face, but her hawk-like eyes never left Robb's face, as if she were a predator watching a wolf cub stumbling out alone in the wild, waiting for her chance to strike.
'Stop messing with me, lady!' Robb screamed as he almost started sweating because of that unpleasant gaze on him, and swore to himself then and there that he would no longer respond to her, no matter what she asks from now on, 'And I don't care how rude it is,' he decided with a firm nod.
And these two were not the only ones who had been left bewildered by this strange path that Dornish prince was taking, in fact, any of the high noble present there who had their informants and had already learned about about the public humiliation and torture of the Lannister knights in Dorne, had their eyebrows raised in suprise as they discussed with their relatives or neighbors sitting beside them on how the Prince Doran would try to convince the King and his council.
"What kind of stupidity is this?!" Kevan finally retorted after being left speechless by Doran. The man had prepared a lot of counterarguments on all the ways that the Dornish man would respond to his accusation, but none of his considerations involved this childish, straightforward denial of events: "What kind of foolish excuse is this?!" he said harshly, not caring a bit that the one in front of him was a Lord Paramount, "Not even a child would believe your naive defense! You must have been really flustered and scared, to come up with such a weak justification," he snorted with a disdainful smirk on his face.
"In fact, it would have been much better if you had simply told us that you did not know about it, at least that way you could have saved yourself from embarrassment, but instead you stand there denying the reality when we all already know about the truth."
"Let me put it into simple words for you in case you forgot," he continued, not giving a single chance to the Dornish prince to butt in, "Your brother, Prince Oberyn Martell has been parading the two honourable knights from Westerlands through the streets of Dorne and torturing them for the amusement of his sick people every single day for the past week." he spoke slowly and loudly as if talking to someone who was particularly dull, drawing quite a few chuckles from the nobles of Westerlands, "So there is no prospect here for you deny these events no matter how hard you try, Prince Doran. Unless you think that all the nobles present here are imbeciles who couldn't tell left from right," that drew quite a frown from the crowd, as no one likes being called stupid.
"In fact, If you had been so scared of the consequences, of taking responsilbilty for this, then you really should not have let your mad brother roam free for all these years," Kevan persisted with a nasty smile, drawing many gasps from the crowd as this was just going too far, especially in public against a mighty Lord Paramount, but Kevan, no longer cared and spoke whatever came to his mind, "If you had just kept your idiotic brother on a leash from the start, then things never would have reached this point."
Obara's eyes were narrowed dangerously at that moment, as her grip on her spear tightened. The scowl on her face became deeper with every word coming out of that Lannister dog's mouth.
The woman didn't know exactly what she wanted to do at the moment, but she knew that she couldn't just stand there silently and listen to him call her father mad and an idiot again.
But in the next moment, a large hand suddenly grabbed her shoulder, and she instinctively snapped around to glare at the brute Areo, but the guard remained completely unmoved by her anger, and just simply stared down at her with those emotionless eyes, and that finally calmed her down.
Rudely shaking the hand off her shoulder, Obara snorted and turned around, while slowly lowering her spear that had at some point risen a few inches from the ground.
'Fucker!' The girl cursed as she rotated her throbbing shoulder. The bastard hadn't held back in the slightest, but the pain was good as it brought her back to her senses of where she was standing at that moment, and she realised that even if she wanted to punish this rat, now wasn't the best time for it.
"While a bit rude and lacking in some manners, Lord Kevan is right about one thing," Doran suddenly started speaking in the same mild manner that he had carried since the start of this court, as if the words out of the Lannister Lord's mouth were simply air that he let's pass him by, "It would indeed be a bit brazen for someone to enter another Lord's territory, and then abduct their people out in the open, and a gross insult it would be to the King's law."
"So you agree—"
"But," Doran interrupted loudly and calmly, "That was not what had happened to the knights in question, you grace," Here, the Dornish prince completely ignored the blustering Lannister Brother, and turned to directly address the small counil and the King who were all looking at him intently, trying to guess where his words were heading, "As according to my brother's letter, which he had sent just a few days ago, explaining the nature of these events. It was Ser Gregor, who, along with his band of men, more commonly known among the smallfolks as the Mountain riders, entered the border of Dorne in the dead of the night, and then 'brazenly' abducted more than ten women from a Dornish village,"
"Among these, were Mothers, daughters, and even children as young as twelve and grandmother as old as sixty," he explained shaking his head with a disgusted look, which was mirrored on a lot of Lords, and nobles present in the room, though, whether it was revulsion at the act of abduction or if it was simply questioning the bad taste of these men, was anyone's guess, "And when the men, or boys, who were the relatives of these women tried to resist, these monsters killed them all, before putting the whole viallge to the light."
"What? Is this true?!"
"Who knows? But I am hearing this for the first time?"
"Who would have known that the honourable knights would be so cruel..."
"Really? Are you really asking that about the Mountain and his men? Have you heard no stories before, boy?
"Um, no,"
"Then, let me tell you..."
There was almost an instant rise of commotion in the audience after the reveal of this information, which they were all hearing for the first time.
But even though some people instinctively wanted to reject this absurd notion, they could not do it with complete certainty, as no matter how deep their informants had been inside Dorne, they had all heard about this incident only after the Red Viper sailed into the Sunspear and showed the public his two captives.
And the events before that were completely shrouded in a mist, which was a point of frustration and humiliation for those individuals who prided themselves on knowing everything there was to know about things happening in Westeros and around the world.
Doran only stopped for a few seconds to let them digest this information before he continued, "So, of course, my Brother, in his duty and anger, immediately took a small band of our soldiers, and set off to avenge the injustice and capture those, whom he and others had assumed at that moment were nothing more than unruly bandits. And these Lannister knights were so arrogant and complacent, or perhaps they were so used to getting a free run of the smallfolks in their homes, that they did not even try to run away after committing the act and continued their revelries well into the night,"
The subtle dig of his at the lax governance in Westerlands had not gone unnoticed, as many a lord sitting behind the Lannister section scowled while the Lord from other kingdoms tried to hide their smiles.
"And in the morning, when my Brother and his men stumbled upon these drunk Lannister miscreants, they were reasonably infuriated upon seeing the cruelties that these men had inflicted upon innocent smallfolks. So in their rage, they lost their sense of reason, as would be expected of any honourable man, and killed most of them with impunity,"
"T-These are all lies!!" Kevan replied with an inscensed expression, "Ser Gregor would have never entered Dorne, he couldn't. This is just another one of those stupid excuses that he came up with to evade responsibility, your grace. You should not—"
"Of course, they entered. We have plenty of eyewitnesses among the survivors who would swear to this before the king, and they would gladly describe all the atrocities that they had suffered at the hands of these monsters."
No one here doubted this claim, as it would indeed be very easy for a Lord like him, whose family had ruled in the same place for centuries, to muster up a few small folks who would come up here to testify for him, and as for whether they would tell the truth or not, well, that could never be verified.
"You can not really expect us to believe that Ser Gregor and his men went all the way from the Westerlands to Dorne, do you? Do you even know how far that is?" Kevan asked as he looked around at the nobles with a sardonic smile, as if telling them to see how funny this joke was, "No one here is going to believe that."
"How strange," Doran said slowly as he looked down at Kevan with a pitiful look on his face, "You say that Dorne is too for your men to travel, and yet you insist in the very next sentence that my brother did the very same thing with his men. I don't know if you were sleeping during your Maester's lesson, but according to what mine has taught me, the distance between two stationary places remains the same no matter which direction one travels in. So either both are impossible, or both are very much possible; you need to choose one, my Lord."
"I-I-" The Lannister Lord's face immediately flushed in humiliation at the condescending tone that the Dornish man was using but try as he might, he could not dispute the clear logic behind this, and sure enough, when he looked around Kevan could see in the eyes of other nobles that they were buying this horseshit, so in his panic, the man blurted out, "Your brother, of course, had a reason to go the length so he could have just used a trade ship to slip in, but there would have been no need for Ser Gregor and the others to travel that far just to...um..." Kevan stopped himself at the last moment and looked around, trying to find an appropriate alternative, but sadly, he didn't get the time.
"To hunt? Is that what you were going to say, Lord Lannister?" Doran asked while shaking his head with a disappointed expression on his face, "So, you were aware of their usual hunting practices, My Lord. Tch! Tch! How sad it must be for those smallfolks who looked upon you to protect them, and to think that you threw them at the mercy of the likes of Gregor and his men,"
"Do not change the subject. We are here to discuss the crimes of your brother, and not—"
"Let me get this right," Once again, Doran interrupted the man with that calm infuriating voice that made the Lannister brother's blood boil, "You mean to tell me that, my brother, entered Westerlands, searched for Ser Gregor, killed all his man, and then just picked up his two captives, and took him all the way to Dorne on his own," Doran finished as he looked down at him with an amused smile, "I must say, My Lord, you really give my brother too much of a compliment,"
"What?!"
"I mean, you must think of my brother as some kind of Magical knight who can travel a thousand leagues, kill fifteen men, and then take a man weighing fifty stones across the border without getting caught. I would dare say that even our king, the man known as the Demon of the Battlefield, wouldn't have been able to achieve the feat that you are laying on my brother's feet. No offence, you grace."
"No, you are right," Robert nodded with a frown on his face, "It would indeed be very tough, but perhaps if I had..." he murmured and then fell silent as he contemplated the logistics of a task such as this, and how he would go about it if he were in his prime.
"This man is quite good," Tyrion muttered with a piqued expression as he took a deep swig of his chalice, feeling very entertained at the moment.
The man had come here envisioning a very dry, boring debate on whose fault it was, with each of them throwing a thousand accusations at each other, before the Lord Hand, famous for his negotiation tactics makes them settle with some kind of compensation, but this... this was completely out of his expectations, and the dwarf was relishing every moment of it.
'Especially, if it makes my old man angry,' he thought giddily, as he looked at his dear Father, who looked unbothered from the outside, but his tight grip on the arm of his chair told a very different story.
"I agree. He is indeed good." Blackfish murmured in begrudging reply, as he too was looking at the Dornish prince who was known outside Dorne as the useless and cowardly cripple, with very different eyes, "I don't know if I believe in your family version of things now," he commented in a low voice, making sure only the dwarf could hear him.
"Me neither," Tyrion replied with a snort as they both shared amused smiles with each other.
"I did not say that he entered alone," Lord Kevan finally found his voice and replied to Prince Doran hotly, "Do not put words into my mouth! He obviously must have brought his men with him to help, otherwise—"
"How many, then?" Doran interrupted with a raised eyebrow.
"W-What?"
"How many men do you think my brother brought to your land to hunt the Mountain and his men? Thirty? Fourty? Or even more?"
"I—How would I know?"
"You don't? Well, then, let us take a conservative estimate of twenty," Doran said with a smile, "As my brother would need at least that much to defeat or kill these men reliably, after all, they were all good warriors of Westerlands, especially the Mountain, who was well known for his prowess. Would you agree with that?"
"Y-Yes, that should be about it," Kevan replied subconsciously, feeling a little put off by this line of continuous questions.
"So, what Lord Kevan here wants us to believe is that twenty or even more Dornishmen entered the borders of Westerlands, asked a random passerby about the whereabouts of Ser Gregor, rode towards them, ambushed them, killed most of them, and then leisurely carried away their trophies all the way to Dorne," he finished with a snort and a chuckle as he shook his head, and even the Lords sitting in the Westerlands part of the court began to look uncomfortable on how rubbish this all was looking with every passing moment.
Kevan was left feeling very dumbfounded at the moment, with his mouth opening and closing again and again, as he tried to come up with some kind of brilliant retort, but no idea popped up in his mind, so in his desperation, the man turned to his brother, only to flinch at seeing the murderous look in his eyes.
"I mean," Doran continued soon after, not wanting to give his opponent too much time to think, "You really must believe all your Lords incompetent to assume that they would let such a large party of Dornishmen pass through their borders unhindered,"
That single comment immediately ruffled a lot of feathers, as almost instantly, pandemonium erupted from the side of Westerlands, with all the big and small petty Lords standing up and loudly proclaiming their innocence.
"No such men entered through my land, I can assure you of that," a wealthy lord with a bulging belly stood up and bellowed as he defended his honour, "Though I can't say the same about others," he mumbled glancing sideways at his rival across the border.
"Why are you looking at me? I do not even share a border with Dorne, unlike you?" The rival stood up and retorted.
"What does that matter? We can all guess that they must have surely entered by ships, and other than Lannisport, you have the biggest port, of course, they must entered through your—"
"How absurd is that reasoning? Just because my family has a port under us, they must have entered through there?" The man in question replied angrily, "I can say with certainty that every man, woman, and child has to go through strict checks before they are allowed through our port. After all, I do not spend my time out there drinking and whoring my life away in a tavern like you,"
"Why you—"
"I agree with Lord—"
But just as the Lords of the Westerlands were about to come to blows in their rage, the commotion abruptly stopped, as all their loud protests died in their throats.
Not because they all suddenly wised up and decided that it was embarrassing to argue like that in front of the Lords of Westeros, but because that 'Man' suddenly turned his head at that moment to look at them.
His cold blue eyes stared at them with such complete detachment, as if they were not human, but slabs of meat, and this single glare scared the lot so much that they almost started hearing the most famous song of Westerlands being played by their ears.
"It does not matter how these men entered the Westerlands, whether it be by land or by ship. What matters is that only by entering our borders could Oberyn have gotten his hands on Ser Gregor and Lorch, as there would have been no possibility of them entering Dorne of their own will. They were well aware of how much they were hated there, so why would they act so stupidly?"
"Who would presume to know the mind of such sick individuals?" Doran simply shrugged as he answered, "Perhaps even after being given free reign of all the woman in Westerlands by his Lords," his words drew quite a few glares and curses, but the Prince continued regardless, "Those men could have easily just gotten bored, and may have wanted a taste of something different, something a bit more... exotic, and just decided to take a long trip to fufill their base desires,"
"How dare you—"
"Enough! I have had enough of this!" King Robert thundered with an impatient expression as he massaged his forehead, "From what I understand, both the possibilities of Oberyn entering Dorne and capturing the Mountain and his group, and of these men going all the way to Dorne on their own, are equally unlikely. There really is no way to learn the truth here, now that those two are already dead, so why are we wasting our time here when—"
"B-But they are not dead, your grace," Kevan beseeched desperately, trying to regain some semblance of control over where this all was headed, "Ser Gregor, and Lorch are still alive, and being tortured as we speak outside the walls of Sunspear. They are making a spectacle out of this, your grace."
"What? What is this, I am hearing? I thought they had already been hanged or something?" he said with a frown on his face as he turned to glare towards Doran. After all, this changed things as if they were still alive, then they could act as witnesses and reveal the truth about what had really happened.
"Ah, that would be the fault of my impulsive brother, Your Grace. He has just too much anger bottled up inside of him, and took some punishments to the extreme, which I, of course, realise is wrong of him," Doran replied to the King with a humble bow, "But do not worry, your grace. I shall write to him in haste, and have him stop this foolishness and return Ser Gregor and Lorch, if they are still alive, to the Westerlands with all the honours that a knight like him deserves,"
"That... is fine then," Robert said with a pleased look on his face. He was very much satisfied about how humble the Dornish prince had acted this day, completely unlike the angry and hate-filled man he had come to expect after his foster father's lecture about handling him a bit more delicately.
"But, your grace—"
"Enough, Kevan!" a firm voice suddenly ordered making the Lannister brother flinch, as every eye in the room turned to look at the Old Lion, who had stayed silent so far, "Clearly, you have made a mistake here, and Lord Doran is either innocent or ignorant of the facts of the matter. But it matters not, this shall be buried here," he said with absolute certainity in his voice as he stood up, "I have some matters to attend to, so I shall take my leave, your grace," he said and then without waiting for an answer, he immediatley turned and began walking towards the exit, with his lannister guards following his every step, "And as for those two," he stopped at the gate and turned to look intently into the calm smiling eyes of Doran, "You can keep them, they shall be your gifts from Westerlands," he finished his piece and immediatley exited the silent room.
And just like that, the solemn atmosphere that had been held until now completely broke apart as the court turned into a marketplace, as the nobles sought out their fellows, looking very eager to discuss what had just happened in front of them, and what it all meant.
'Fucking old coot!' The King muttered in annoyance as the Old Lion had left without his leave to do so.
But he was his father-in-law, after all, so there was little that he could do out here in the open, no matter how distasteful it was.
'Then again, he too must have been very irritated with me for not completely taking his side in here,' Robert thought with a smile on his face, feeling very vindicated at having dealt with the matter without looking partial, but then the smile on his face abruptly vanished into dread as the face of beautiful woman with a nasty expression appeared in his eyes, 'Damn it! She is not going to screech into my ears for this, is she?'
Down below, watching the Nobles letting go of all their inhibition and not acting properly at all, the Hand of the King wanted to bring some semblance of order back to the court, but just as he stood up, and was about to clear his throat to attract their attention, and announce one thing or the other, someone beat him to it.
"Meeting adjourned!!" The King's booming voice echoed across the court, as they all turned to watch him amble down the stairs of the throne as fast as he could with that massive girth of his.
There was no other thought in that man's mind other than to get a glass of wine in his hand as soon as he could, and then disappear into the embrace of a pretty whore before that miserable woman could find him to complain.
The Old Hand sighed helplessly at the missed opportunity as he watched his ward eagerly leave the hall, but having kept him still and sober for so long was already an achievement, so he decided to put his out of his mind and turned to move towards Lord Royce, having a lot of questions to ask the Lord about things back home.
"Ah, that was very satisfying, was it not, boy?" Olenna muttered as their small party of Reach and North left the hall together.
"A little," Robb replied vaguely with a distracted expression, as if his mind was not fully there.
"Oh, you Northerners and your muted expressions," The Old woman said as she rolled her eyes, "You should learn from your brother, boy. At least that brat knew how to be entertaining," she snorted as she shook her head, and turned on her heels to walk away.
"Lord Robb," Margery bowed gracefully in farewell, before hurrying after her Grandmother.
"...Did you hear that, brother?" Robb muttered a few moments after being left alone, "She thinks that I should learn the art of jesting from you?" he whispered as if someone was standing right in front of him with his ears to his mouth.
"Chi! Chi!" came a trilling, merry squeak out of his pocket as a small, colourful head popped out of his front pocket, and looked at him with amused beady eyes.
"You know very well that I can't communicate with Tweety as we did with Tiger," Robb replied with a snort, as he turned and began walking towards a nearby mansion that he and his party were occupying during this Tourney, and a very confused Rodrik followed behind him, wondering why his Lord's heir was whispering to himself.
"You should hurry up here, brother. Because I really want to know all about why that pretty girl was so bloody interested in knowing everything about you..."
///
You know where to go if you want to become a clairvoyant and see some weeks into the future by sacrificing just a little gold...
And of course, there is also a free trial for those who are afraid to take the plunge into forbidden knowledge to realise what they are getting into.
The sea was as calm as a slow-moving creek coming down a Mountain that day.
A fairly large galleon was slumbering along with the flow of the wind and water, sailing so smoothly that one couldn't even feel the usual shudders. Even a person with chronic seasickness could have calmly walked on the deck that day without letting out a single heave, so mellow were the waves.
It was the hour of the wolf, the darkest night just before the first light of the dawn.
But even in this darkness, this ship was lit up and glowing faintly under the lights of the torches, which were placed strategically all over the deck inside big permanent iron brackets that stopped them from being a fire hazard.
Making it so that even at this time, there were quite a few men out and about on the deck going about their chores with the diligence and work ethic that would put even the sailors of the Royal fleet to shame.
Some were out there meticulously cleaning the deck, others were keeping a lookout, while a few were doing their routine checks of the ropes and the sails to make sure that they were in excellent condition.
And even though none of these men looked as if they had taken a wink of sleep during the whole night, they still did not seem too fatigued or worn out, as if their whole bodies had already accepted the fact that they only operated under the light of the moon and rested during the day.
But other than these workers, there was one other person awake out there on the deck, but this one wasn't doing any kind of productive work; instead, he was just sitting there out in the open at the front of the ship, meditating with his eyes closed and silently enjoying the cool breeze.
And this man did not appear like a sailor from any direction, as not only was he wearing clean clothes, but his skin also did not have the usual tanned and weather-worn countenance like the others.
The most damning thing of all was his hair, which not only looked soft and flowing, the kind only frequent careful washes could get you(which was a luxury worthy of a king as far as any sailor was concerned), but it also came with a fresh cut that gave his curly hair the perfect platform to shine, giving him a handsome look that was bound to be a hit with any young maiden who laid her eyes on him.
"You are up unusually early today?" A curious voice suddenly asked, breaking the serene atmosphere and bringing the still boy out of his inner world.
The man who just arrived also stood out a lot from the rest, as unlike most of the sailors on the ship who were of Northern descent, this one clearly carried the features of someone from the Free cities.
But in spite of his distinctness, there was only respect and caution in the eyes of the sailors towards this captain of theirs who had the direct ears of their big boss.
"It's not that early," Jon answered without even opening his eyes, while pointing in the distance towards the right, "The Sun is already out."
"It is not—"
And just like that, not even a second later, the first rays of the morning sun peeked over the horizon, as if the celestial body had been waiting for the boy's order, bringing a hint of warmth and light into the cold, dark world over the ocean
"You know what I mean." The Advisor continued while shaking his head as he moved past the boy towards the railing, completely unmoved by his trick. He had seen him achieve far more miraculous feats than this simple gimmick of his, that even an Old sailor could succeed in 5 times out of 10.
"You usually don't show your face until about mid-day, so what is it about today that forced you to let go of your beauty sleep?" The Advisor asked as he looked out at the vast and humbling view of the narrow sea, before turning around with a teasing smile, "Are you perhaps just too happy that you will soon get to see your brother, and couldn't control your excitement?"
"Ugh, don't make it sound as if I am a slacker," Jon retorted with a snort as he finally opened his eyes and stood up, before stretching the sleep out of his body.
While the Advisor was right about Jon sleeping in until noon, it was not because he was lazy or anything; it was because Jon spent most of his nights out there roaming with his wargs, trying to keep an eye on all the important happenings around the world.
From his family in Winterfell, to various persons of interest he was monitoring in Essos and Westeros, and not to mention, his little shipping company that was now getting a little too big to handle.
"And why on earth would I be excited to see my brother, when I just saw him last night," He replied with a meaningful look on his face, 'In fact, I can still see him right now, snoring like a pig on his bed, irritating the delicate ears of my little Tweety,' The boy thought, keeping the last part to himself, to spare his older brother some dignity.
"You know what I mean," The Advisor repeated with a sigh, agreeing a little with those Dornish girls that the boy indeed liked bragging just a little too much, "so if not for your brother, then why are you already up?"
"It's the smell," Jon finally answered with a sigh, as he came to stand beside the Essosi, "One needs a very strong stomach to smell something this revolting, and not immediately vomit their guts out."
"What?" The older man asked back confusedly, before his eyes suddenly widened as he turned and looked towards the horizon that still looked as empty as it was a few seconds ago, "Can you already smell the Capital all the way out here?" he asked as he hesitatingly flared his nostrils, and breathed in deeply, but no matter how hard he tried he still couldn't feel anything other the salty breeze
"Not me, of course. It was frost." Jon replied while jerking his chin towards the sky, "She woke me up a few hours ago, complaining that her nose was burning from irritation by the smell of the city, so I had to send her away."
Ever since the Advisor had worked out his secret ability during his campaign against the Pirate King, the man's old boss, Jon, had started to become very open with him about his warging.
And as time passed and he saw more and more of his trustworthiness, he revealed all that he could about the various wargs he controlled, and what all he could make them do at any moment.
The sheer might of Jon's ability had scared the man in the beginning, especially after he became acquainted with Frost and Inky, his sea Kraken, but then, after a few days, he suddenly decided that Jon was some kind of saviour that had been sent by the gods to help the world.
This sudden fanaticism had shocked the boy for a while, but since the man did not make a big deal out of this, and was only more loyal because of this, Jon did not try too hard to correct his assumption and simply let it pass.
After all, being a little superstitious never hurt anyone...right?
"I did not know that birds could smell?" The Advisor mumbled out loud with a strange expression before shaking her head, "So, where did you send her? To the Wall?"
"No, she was out there just yesterday," Jon replied with a shrug as he remembered the late-night inspection of the Wildling camp, which was still growing larger with each passing day, especially now that most of their food-related problems had been solved by Jon, "And she wanted a change of scenery, so I sent her to Essos."
"To the others?" The Advisor questioned with an understanding expression on his face, having known that most of his Stark family was out there on a tour of the free cities.
"Aye, she is flying out there above their ships right at this moment," Jon replied with a warm smile, as his eyes became a little dazed.
Jon looked down through Frost's eyes to see Daenerys learning the art of sparring with a short sword from his little sister Arya, who was moving as fast as a sparrow, and kept spinning in and out of the bigger girl's attack with the air of a pro.
Sansa was standing on the side, cheering Daenerys on, telling her not to give up, while the girls' Mother sat under the shade some distance away, along with her husband, looking at Arya cheerfully jumping around with a look of tired resignation, as if having accepted defeat after a long-fought battle.
Watching his family let go, travel the sights in free cities, and having fun with little Dany was one of the most rewarding scene that the boy had ever seen, and the smiles on their faces, and even the rare look of relaxation on Eddard's perpetually frowning face, made it all worth it, and it gave the Jon knew much needed motivation, as he knew that there was nothing in this world that he would not fight to protect these smiles.
"So how far out are we now?" The Advisor suddenly asked, bringing Jon out of his thoughts, "Should I get the men to wake up the rest of them?"
"Yeah, get them up and ready. We should see the capital in about an hour." Jon replied as he turned around to look at the twenty large Galleys following right after their lead ships, moving in a bird flock formation, "After all, we don't want the nobles in Capital to look down on us."
...
"Why are you not here yet? How much longer will it take you?" Robb grumbled to the bird on his shoulder as he alighted from his horse outside the Mud gate.
The Stark heir looked quite exhausted at the moment, as if he had not gotten enough sleep, which was to be expected for someone who had spent the night out drinking and partying.
But it wasn't the boy's fault, as he had been forced into it by his dear Uncle Edmure, who had pulled him out of his mansion, kicking and screaming(Metaphorically).
The man had, for some reason, taken it as his own responsibility to show this nephew of his how to live a little and have fun, and had taken him to a prestigious Noble Gathering, or in simple words, an unlimited drinking feast.
After all, what else would a bunch of nobles, who had never worked a day in their lives, do in King's Landing other than drink, dance and shit.
And then sometime later, they had even been joined by Blackfish, Lord Manderly, Lord Tyrion, and even King Robert for a short while. So safe to say, as the youngest and the lightest amongst these drunkards, the boy had been the one to suffer the most.
So now, being forced to wake up so early, just a few hours after sunrise, without having gotten sufficient rest, to wait for his carefree brother, Robb felt that he had fair reason to look so disgruntled.
Behind him came Ser Rodrick and Lord Manderly, with the fat man looking quite cheery and fresh despite having consumed almost three times as much as everyone else on the table.
Along with them came fifteen grim Northern guards, which was the minimum amount of men a Noble needed while travelling through the Capital these days, considering how crowded it had recently gotten, and this was while taking into account the usual Northern frugality. Otherwise, someone like the Tyrell Lord would not even leave his Mansion without at least 30 to 50 men.
"Chi!" The colourful hummingbird tilted her head, as if thinking about her answer, before she suddenly jumped up and stood on one leg, triumphantly raising the other claw in answer, "Chi!"
"And what does that even mean?" Robb asked in exasperation, massaging his forehead to relieve his headache, "Is that a one or a three? You know that I don't speak bird very well."
"Chi!" But the bird just nodded cheerfully, as if to answer, 'Yes!'
"So, one to three hours then?" he asked, to which the silly bird nodded again, "Perfect!" Robb groaned tiredly in exhaustion, quietly adjusting his sticky clothes that felt stifling even in the morning coolness here in South, but he would rather die in leather than strut around in bright silk like the other noble dandies, "Ugh! I can't believe I am missing lunch for this..."
"Chi?" The bird trilled mournfully with a wronged expression that would have melted the heart of even the most cold-hearted maiden out there.
"Oh, don't give me that expression! It may have worked on Arya and Sansa, but I am—"
"Lord Stark?" A clear bell-like voice interrupted Robb's whispered berating of the bird, as the startled boy turned around, only to see the Young Tyrell maiden standing a few feet behind him, somehow having charmed her way through the blockade of Ser Rodrik and the others without alerting him.
"Lady Margery?" Robb asked confusedly, his expression very clearly asking, 'Why are you here?'
"Pretty bird, you have there," The girl replied with a warm smile while ignoring his silent question, as she stared intently at the hummingbird, "But was it not Jon's? I remember it quite clearly, him carrying her around during his trip to Highgarden. Tweety was her name, right?"
"Yes, it is his. I am just taking care of her for him." Robb replied subconsciously, as a frown appeared on his face, and then due to his sleep deprivation, he decided to be direct, "I don't mean to be rude, but it is very early for you to be out here at the port, so why..." he trailed off as his eyes flickered to her half a dozen guards wearing the Tyrel cloaks standing with Ser Rodrick, who kept glancing this way with a strange smirk on his face, as if...
'Damn it! Is the old knight under the delusion that this girl is pining for me?' Robb thought as his guts twisted in embarrassment, 'Fuck you, Jon!'
"Oh, I was just out here taking a stroll in the market with my Grandmother," Margery replied while pointing towards a tall, luxurious inn, which had a clear view of the Blackwater rush, and the Harbour, "We wanted to see the sights of Kingslanding before it becomes too crowded, and then I saw your party from afar, and I remembered you telling us that your brother was set to arrived today, so I assumed that you were waiting for him. And since I had nothing to do while my Grandmother was taking a rest in the Inn, I came here," she finally finished while maintaining her smile, "Is that not fine?"
"No, it's fine. Why would it not be?" Robb answered with a forced smile, very much unable to digest this intricate but lame excuse.
'I would eat my right arm right here and now, if your arrival here was any kind of coincidence,' Robb scoffed internally, 'But still to think that she woke up this early, and came all the way here just to meet that idiot brother of mine... Exactly what kind of magic have you performed on this girl, Jon?'
'Not to mention, the time the girl must have invested in getting ready,'
Even Robb, a complete novice in the art of women's get-up, could tell that the girl had spent at least an hour looking pretty and dressing up for this, and no one would do that just for a casual meeting with a 'friend' you have not seen in years.
"So, do you have an idea of when Jon is going to arrive?" Margery asked a few seconds later, breaking the awkward silence.
"About an hour or three," Robb immediately replied, giving her the answer that he himself had been given by the bird.
The grimace reappeared on his face as the boy imagined waiting out here for such a long time, especially taking into consideration the imminent arrival of the scorching mid-day Sun, 'Shit! I can't even bail out now that she is here,' Robb thought as he sighed internally.
"Huh? So is that not his ship then?" Margery curiously asked while pointing into the distance behind Robb.
"What ship do you—"
Robb began as he turned his head to follow her fingers, but in the next moment, his eyes widened as he saw the very familiar shape of his Brother's personal Galleon rising on the horizon, coming out of a cloud of morning mist. It was the same one that he had 'gotten' from the Pirate King, later adorning it with a large White wolf at the front.
'Why... is he here already?' Robb had a very taken aback expression on his face at that moment, but in the next second his head whipped around as he looked down at his shoulder, where he found the little critter, squeaking(laughing) her ass off.
'You damn bird!!' The boy cursed in his head as he made to grab her, having finally realised that it was just a prank by his brother to irritate him.
Sadly, his pathetic human hands were no match for the small bird, as she immediately disappeared from his eyes, only to appear a few inches high, still cackling like a mad chick.
"Lord Robb?!"
The Tyrell girl's confused voice broke Robb out of his haze of irritation as he took a deep breath to calm his anger, and turned back to her, "Yes, that is indeed my brother's ship. It seems I had recieved faulty information before," he replied through gritted teeth while glaring at the bird, who had retaken her seat, from the corner of his eyes.
"That is wonderful, then," Margery replied with a bright smile as she clapped her hands, "We shall not have to wait for too long, then."
'Yes, yes, very wonderful,' The Stark heir thought sarcastically, but before he could start preparing various ways in which he could take revenge on his dear brother for fooling around with him while he was sleep-deprived, he heard another exclamation from the Tyrell girl, 'Now, what?'
"Eh? Why are there two more ships there?" she asked confusedly as she pointed in the distance where, as she called it, two more similar Galleys had appeared on either side of Jon's flagship, "Are they Jon's too?"
"Uh, yes, they should be." Robb nodded with a sagely expression on his face, "The seas can be a very dangerous place, especially for my brother, who regularly travels between Essos and Westeros, so he has a habit of always bringing a couple of ships filled with armed men along with him for protection, and to intimidate any pirates they encounter along the—"
But before Robb could finish with his 'reasonable' deduction, his words abruptly died in his throat the very next moment, as the three ships on the horizon suddenly turned into five with two more appearing on each side.
And that was not the end, as barely a few seconds later, another two appeared...
And then two more...
And more...
In just a matter of minutes, the horizon had been completely taken over by this large trade fleet sailing towards the capital in a fearsome formation, with their sails fully unfurled. This was such a terrifying sight that it could even put some pirate fleets to shame.
And these were not those thin little Ironborn longships that could only hold a little more than two dozen men.
These were proper behemoths that looked as if they came straight out of the best shipyard in Braavos, with each of them capable of comfortably carrying more than 100 men.
"Isn't this a little much for just protection?" Margery asked out loud in a stunned voice as she looked at the big armada that was somehow still adding ships to it at that moment, "He could carry an army of more than two thousand men in there, right? Is he perhaps going to war after this?" the girl asked with a nervous laugh.
This time, Robb had no ready answer for her as he, too, had been caught off guard by this showy display of might, which seemed very much unlike his brother. 'What could he be up to?'
Unfortunately, he did not get the chance to ruminate over it for long, as a loud horn suddenly blared from behind him, and both of them simultaneously turned around only to see a huge commotion happening over at the walls of the Mud gate, with all the Goldcloaks running around wildly in panic, as if their pants were on fire.
'Oh, Shit! This situation is getting out of hand now.'
It seems that Margery was not the only one who had noticed the potential army that Jon's fleet of big ships could carry, and considering how high-strung these guards had been lately, because of the constant arrival of all those big-shot nobles, it was not a surprise that their reaction was so extreme.
"They don't really think that Jon is coming to attack the city, do they?" Margery asked with an anxious expression on her face, as the girl was unable to comprehend why and how things were so quickly spiralling out of control here.
"My Lady, we should head back," one of the Tyrell guard suddenly appeared by the girl's side and began persuading her with an anxious expression, "They are closing the gates over there, and we should go back to your Grandmother just to be safe."
"I-No! This is just a misunderstanding. That is Lord Stark's son out there who is coming, the one in whose name the king is holding the Tourney. It is not an enemy for us to be afraid of—"
"But My lady, your Grandmother—"
Robb stopped listening to them as he turned back to the ship with a deep frown on his face, 'What the hell are you planning here, Jon?'