The Keep At Storm's End

A young man with a plain and forgettable face had brought very strange news to the Lady of Storm’s End. Her son, Azaroth Baratheon had been spotted on the roads home. News such as this had been trickling in for more than a week. He had been spotted on back roads and in very small townships headed toward the seat of Storm’s End. Such new would often be welcomed, leaving the Mother of Beasts elated but these were trying times and per the plan set forth by her eldest daughter Azaroth should have been on another path. Once again, Eirlys dismissed the young man, sending him back to his errand of espionage in service to his liege. She had several just like him in her employ, all plain and forgettable, all marked specifically. It was a mark she often required to be produced prior to hearing any news brought from her little storm flurries.

Getting her eldest son, the current Lord Paramount, Kainen to take notice of these very fine, intricate details which kept the region moving slowly and kept the family safe was not something she had been successful in doing. Thus Eirlys had resigned herself to finding her son a woman who would take to these responsibilities with vigor. Of course, finding a match for her children, trustworthy partners, had always been part of her plan. It was just not a simple task. A mother’s task was to see to it that all of her children were taken care of, protected and loved before they passed on. Her first attempt at this with her youngest daughter had failed so miserably, Eirlys had prayed to the Mother to bring her child back and prevent her from having any others.

Eirlys wasted no time in preparing the castle for her son’s homecoming and yet the preparations were silent ones. She instructed her staff to clean and the entire keep thoroughly. All of her children’s room were to be dusted, their linens changed, their curtains opened, rooms aired out. This of course would not seem suspicious in the slightest as the Lady Eirlys often ordered this to be done when she felt the castle was growing “stuffy and disgusting”. It was not uncommon for her children to return their rooms with the furniture rearranged and the linens and draperies changed. Eirlys took her natural stircrazy obsession with change and cleanliness and turned it into a ritual which concealed many of her other going’s on in the keep. Cleaning every room from top to bottom and moving furniture was a way to make sure there were no trinkets or sigils around from sort of cheap or even effective magics. A woman of The North and the Old Gods, Eirlys knew magic, she also housed girls from the Summer Isles for many years, who were well versed in the ways. They were good girls, but still, she had to ensure that her children were not being controlled or marked.

In this moment, having the castle cleaned served the dual purpose of preparing for her son without much ceremony and the castle was starting to feel stuffy in any case. Her son, her adored youngest boy, would come home to a clean room and a feast. In order to reward her staff for the grueling work she put them through, Eirlys always let them feast in one of the minor halls, turning it in a tavern like situation and they were able to start their duties later in the day, following their feast. Needless to say the staff and many of those employed to the Baratheon house of Storm’s End were well treated. It took only a few missteps rather infrequently to send a reminder to all of those that the Baratheons kindness was not something to take for granted and their family was not to be crossed or trifled with.

By the time, Eirlys’ son was quietly escorted through the small front gate, his companion duly noted but sent off to a small guest chamber near the guard’s quarters until summoned. It was also noted that the companions Azaroth had been sent to the Reach with were absent. The entire scene was disconcerting as it had not been the plan set forth by her daughter. Though Eirlys doted on her son and Rhaelle truly loved her brother, Rhaelle would not be as forgiving of this misstep as Eirlys would be. Whether not her son’s appearance at his home spelled more trouble than it was, had yet to be seen.

Pacing the open foyer to her chamber, where her son had been instructed to be brought, Eirlys calculated all the things that could have led him to return home instead of being pampered on the way to the capital with the Tyrells and his cousin. Given the timeline of his arrival, his altered appearance noted in the many statements brought the lady upon his spotting, his lack of attendants, and this new companion, Eirlys surmised that Azaroth had left the Reach either moments before or shortly after Dante set date of arrival. That meant that Dante had been alone in his negotiations with the Tyrells and the only hands upon contracts made therein were handled by the Tyrells and heavily outweighed Dante’s presence.

A soft knock came upon the chamber door and Eirlys bid them enter. Her features were smooth and calm, keeping all of her thoughts to herself. It was not difficult to push aside her calculations in the presence of her treasured child. For the moment Eirlys would allow herself to revel in his long absent presence. After all he and his younger sister, Rhaenyrs, Gods rest her soul, had been her prizes. Her chances to create beautiful, tamed beasts, which would rule with steady hands and the grace of true stags.

With her hands folded neatly front of her of her red dress, her long dark brown hair braided from the crown of her head down and around to lay over her shoulder. The gold and red of her dress complimented her soft complexion and round features. Her small hand waved away the attendant that brought her son in, leaving them alone in the room once the great doors to her chamber were closed.

They were waiting for him, he had assumed they would be, much like the Reach there was little that went on around the Stormlands that his mother didn’t know about, yet unlike in the Reach he had very little understanding on how she did so. Azaroth’s memory of his mother always knowing what he was up to, even when he was off doing things she deemed beneath him or not fit for her son, was something the young Lord hadn’t quite figured out in his younger years; it was if she little birds everywhere chirping in her ear.

It didn’t take long for one of the attendants to move away from Azaroth as they escorted Ryke towards what he assumed would be a guest chamber or perhaps the guard quarters; Azaroth wasn’t exactly sure how well received he’d be at this moment and that wasn’t even adding in the information he had brought with him along with questions. He made no effort to speak to the attendant as they walked towards the meeting place that his mother had assigned, though from quick side glances and a bowed head it seemed rather clear to the young Stag that said attendant wasn’t informed enough on him to know whether general conversation was acceptable or not to the Lord; after all he had been gone for about seven years and perhaps it wasn’t just his appearance that had changed.

The chamber door was pushed open after the attendant knocked softly a few times to gather the attention of his Lady Mother. Azaroth’s eyes fell to the woman who had birthed him, raised him and then sent him off to another home to finally grow into his own. The images rattling around his head as both he and the attendant made way further inside the chamber were ones of the past and they brought about more than one feeling; regret, sadness, though at the same time joy about learning to fight in the Reach; that wasn’t to say though that leaving his family was something at the time Azaroth was all too keen on doing.

She hadn’t changed, all down to the way she was standing there and the emotion in her eyes, though her hair was still that dark brown braid that he remembered his father being overly attentive towards and her soft green eyes along with the dress she wore that suited her so well seemed to fit the picture he had been remembering this whole time. Even as his mother waved the attendant out of the room and the great doors closed behind her Azaroth hadn’t stopped moving, his eyes hadn’t moved either from the sight of her and when he was close enough his arms wrapped around her in a warm embraced that he hadn’t had in years and that he needed now more than ever.

Even though the clear height difference between mother and son it would still have been clear to anyone watching just what their relationship was. The room was silent and he hadn’t made an attempt to move his frame never mind the arms wrapped around her and he wouldn’t have, not unless she spoke of it or attempted to move away herself. Azaroth’s mind was reeling not just from the issue that happened in Highgarden but also the one that had haunted him since it happened merely a week prior. At night when he was supposed to fall asleep to gain some rest all he could see were flames, crumbling black rocks and then finally the sky that he had ended up staring up into after fire had sent him flat on his back.

“I missed you, Mother.” His words were few but held emotion within them, there really wasn’t much else to be said in the moment and he even he could just as well not have said anything at all; his feelings were rather clear from the embrace though hopefully the pain in his eyes over the other issue was hidden well enough that she wouldn’t inquire about it. “It seems you found a way to subdue the effects of time, Ladies of the Reach would gladly hand you their first and possibly second sons to procure your secrets, Lady Mother.”

When he’d left her arms those years ago, her youngest son had already met her height. Now he towered over her like his brother and sister, though he was not quite and tall as Kainen yet, he’d passed his sister by a few inches. He was broader but not quite filled out yet. His beautiful silken black hair had been cropped to his skull causing slight horror at the concept to widen her eyes slightly. He was more handsome now than he had been with his boyish locks, but still they were his boyish locks. A simple haircut had turned him into a man and she had not, despite her attempts at preparation, been prepared to see her son has man. It was the plight of a mother, however, for she had not been prepared for the day that Kainen became Lord Paramount. She had not been without tears during the realization that her first born had sprouted up like a weed and filled out into a man.

His massive arms, not the little pudgy arms she remembered, encompassed all of her being. Her mind reeled back to the days when he could only hug her knees. When he would make jokes about putting his arms on her shoulder and using her as an armrest. Her baby. Her eyes began to rim with tears of joy as her arms wrapped around his broad back. The embrace lasted for quite a long time; neither mother or son wanting to release each other, but a mother knows her son. The longer they held each other, the more a radiation of deep sorrow began to radiate from his being. Her son didn’t release her when he began to speak and the edge of that sorrow was laden upon his words.

Pulling back, Eirlys remained in his embrace as she cupped his face. His gaze was steady, attempting to be pleasantly blank, trying to hold onto the joy of the moment but something plagued him. It plagued him so deeply that she could not even smile at his compliment. “I have missed you so, my son, but I am still your mother and something troubles you. I can see it. Tell me, or have you become too much of a man to share your emotions with your Lady Mother.”

It seemed like the moment their embrace ended her soft caring hands found his face, he could feel the warmth of them wash over him and he took a second to relish in that feeling that he hadn’t felt in so many years. It seemed like his attempt at hiding his own pain was all for nothing because she instantly called him out on it, her words tugging at his heart as he fought the ideas running through his mind. “There was someone I should have helped, I tried to help…Only half a month has passed since I was Knight and in that time I failed to someone who deserved more of me.”

Was there really anything else to add to the situation? He wasn’t going to add in the details of who it was or what had happened though if she pressed further no doubt he would have caved; though it wouldn’t have been unlike his mother to gather more details than he had actually given from his words and that most of all was what was worrying him in these moments. Azaroth still wasn’t ready to admit he had wanted to help Rana for more reasons than honour and code, that the desire to help her and the offer to have her accompany him held a meaning even closer to his heart than those; no he still fought to rid himself of those thoughts and emotions.

Bringing his hand up to cover over one of his mother’s it became rather evident how much had changed since the last time he had been home, back when he had left his hand may have been slightly larger than his mother’s but now it completely covered it yet that same feeling of warmth and love was still present. During the time that had passed between his answering her question and his hand falling from hers his eyes narrowed towards her, there was something he had to ask her that concerned his cousin, in fact it was the whole reason he was back here so soon. “Tell me Mother, do you know the reason my poor cousin from a broken castle where he controls about as many men as he does dragons, is getting married to the Odessa Tyrell?” His words describing his cousin were not flattering to say the least, though he had meaning for describing him as such; in his mind Dante had nothing to offer the Tyrell’s but a broken home and possibly anger when faced against the King and for those two simple reasons he had to question the engagement if for no other reason than to know what gave Dante the power to pluck a flower that he had very much intended on plucking himself.

A frown marred her features to hear her son’s answer. It would be a subject to be touched on at a later time however, because he recovered from his sadness quickly and pressed on toward more troubling matters. Mirroring her features, Azaroth frowned a bit before insulting his cousin. This returned Eirlys’ soft smile, finally freeing herself from the arms of her youngest boy. She took his hand, leading him to the balcony of her chambers. They looked out over the sharp cliffs where the castle of Storm’s End met the sea.

“There is bitterness to your words, my son,” Eirlys said, as they moved. “It is good to see the lessons of your sister are no so easily washed away. Did you believe that was my plan all along? For you to have the Lady Odessa for yourself? Perhaps at one time but things have changed much since you’ve been sent away from your adoring mother. Speaking of your sister, all of this has been of her grand scheme.”

Out on the balcony, the sky was over cast. The sun was blotted out by thick clouds reflecting its rays in a brilliant smattering of colors. Thunder and lighten crackled off in the distance, a constant for the Stormlands.

Motioning to a chair, Eirlys poured wine for them, and plucked a plum from a tray of fruit to nibble upon as they spoke. “It had been decided soon after your departure from your home that your cousin and king, Alexander could not be allowed to remain on the throne. He is terrorizing the people. His lack of reason and wit will destroy this realm and furthermore the comfort of my children.” There she paused to give his cheek another loving caress; the woman hadn’t quite gotten over having her son back in her presence. “After many lengthy conversations with your sister, your cousin Dante was sent to the Reach to secure their support in the rebellion and you were supposed to remain by his side.”

Gripping his chin there, the Lady Mother of House Baratheon stared into her son’s face as if gauging both her following words and his actions. “Your cousin lacks the refinement that persons of his birth and station should have never gone without. He will get it in droves from this match, just I trust you have. With that little girl by his side, he will present the proper air when needed and the do what is right as his father and his father before him have done. Dante is a strong and good man. I believe, we believe, that he will serve the realm well, but no one can do that alone. It is never a good thing to be too heavily on one side. We cannot allow that lone stag to be overrun by the twisting vines of golden flowers. Dante must always have someone in his corner. Kainen is not suited for the capital. The people will only follow your sister so far. Her manner of speech, her way of thinking is not something the realm is ready for. She has done her part, and now it is time for you to do yours.”

Releasing him, she went on,”Now, tell me in truth, why are you not with your cousin?”

With him being lead outside to the balcony of his mother’s chambers he too joined her in taking in the sights of the sharp cliffs and the wild seas. Unlike the waters he had witnessed while in the Reach these waters had yet to be tamed, much like most of the Stormlands were when up against the harsh winds that carried the Storm Lords through their land. The sun was blocked by clouds thicker than he had seen in years; most things in the past day or so were constant comparisons between the Reach and home, so many things he had forgotten about this place and right now its wonderment was back once more.

His mother mentioned of bitterness in his words and he had thought she would pick up on them, after all he had chosen them carefully to add in his point about why the Tyrell’s would be interested in Dante, yet still his mother hadn’t answered his question instead she went on questioning him of his thoughts of her plans and to say she was wrong wouldn’t have been correct, after all up until a few weeks prior the idea of Odessa Tyrell was one that had crossed his mind a few times. The moment his mother stopped speaking and the sentence she ended it with caused his eyes to narrow at her words, though he was sure she’d get to them in due course and he was in no hurry to rush her for answers.

With the invitation to sit by his Lady Mother’s motion he did so and as she poured them wine and plucked her own plum from the tray of fruit and he did the same, his large calloused fingers that held more scrapes and torn skin on them than possibly any other noble plucked at a few green grapes and as she continued her explanation of things to come he sat there listening, eating slowly as his mind somewhat exploded to the reality of the situation. Not only had he failed to stay by his cousin’s side in the Reach thus probably pissing off his sister when she heard of it, but he had openly admitted to making out with Odessa…The future queen.

The further words of his mother started to stir something in his chest and by the time she was finished speaking he had an idea of what she had in mind for her youngest son. Everything whirled around in his mind, all the new information and old piecing together and he almost had to kick himself because he hadn’t realised it yet it seemed clear as day now the reason for the Tyrells marrying off their golden flower. Azaroth stopped picking at the grapes as his body leaned further back in the soft comfortable chair, his head tilted backwards as his eyes closed over hiding those eerily blue hues and finally when his mother asked him why he wasn’t with Dante he couldn’t hold in his train of thought any longer.

“Fuck, He’s going to be King…Fuck, She’s going to his Queen…Fuck! I kissed her, two weeks prior to Dante showing up we kissed…He asked about the Reach and I told him in truth...Gods help me, he suggested we kiss and make up when he found out, was he testing my allegiance to cousin or cunt?”

Azaroth stopped speaking the moment his last words left his mouth, he hadn’t meant to cuss so much in front of his Lady Mother and the last words to leave where on a different level than just using the word fuck.

It only took a few more seconds for him to push up out of his chair and his hands slammed down on the stone balcony, if he had knew Dante was meant to be King then his words would have remained the same, no that wasn’t completely true; he would have had even harsher words about the Reach.

“We cannot let the Tyrells place their daughter onto the throne, Mother. Golden flowers and twisting vines are something a Stag can escape from but the Tyrell woman are far from flowers or weeds, they are but the gardener with sharp sheers cutting off anything they deem insulting or misplaced; that is not the house to usher in a new hope or life to the realm.”

Lady Eirlys watched her son process each of her words carefully, the gears of his mind turning until something struck him hard enough to send him out of chair. His barrage of foul language had not even caused her to bat an eyelash, after all her daughter had a mouth like a sailor. Her son had been gone for a long time, he had been just a boy when he’d left his home, but even though the swearing sounded strange coming from him, as her mind had not yet overlaid her memories of her precious boy with the man he’d become, it was still not something she was dis-accustomed too. The only thing she was having a truly hard time accepting was this haircut.

Instead of being taken aback by her son’s language, Eirlys focused on the few normal he spoke. Her son had set his sights on the Lady Odessa and for this she was proud even saddened that she could not give this to him. Like most women of rank or ambition, Lady Eirlys only wanted the best for her children. The truth of the matter was that her children were not good matches for the delicate and particular ways of Reach woman, especially Tyrells. It was the same suggestion that had been to her daughter when Rhaelle stated her plans for Dante. Of course the head-strong woman had ideas of her own and Eirlys could not win an argument with her daughter about Dante, for Rhaelle probably knew him better than anyone. Thus far she’d shown herself to be a good judge of character. Rhaelle believed that the stark differences between the two and Dante’s upbringing or lack there off was well tempered with Odessa’s very strict upbringing. In theory, yes, it would be a good match – if Dante could handle himself against the woman, which her daughter believed he could. Eirlys’ few but vivid memories of the boy were of a strong but relaxed personality. Even still, Rhaelle had left Dante with instructions to keep Azaroth by his side in order for the stag to have someone in his corner. She had been counting on her brother’s strong family bonds and yet had not counted on his grave misstep of not only sullying the Tyrell girl, but telling Dante about it.

A soft chuckle left her lips to hear his final thoughts on the matter and the woman allowed silence to fill the space between them following her sound as she sipped her wine. She bound the plum in a dark coloured napkin before taking a bit of it, so the juices wouldn’t cause her fingers to become sticky. The end of the napkin was used to daintily clean the corners of her mouth before she replied,”So my son means to tell me he is a stronger stag than that of the cousin he’s only once met? More capable of handling the gardeners of the Reach than Dante? Because that is what you wanted, is it not, Azaroth; the Lady Odessa for yourself? Do you mean to tell me, the vines of the Reach are less dangerous in Storm’s End than the capital? Perhaps my hormone driven son is more afraid of the consequences of his brash actions than the good of the realm. So rattled were you that you failed to remain long enough to find out for yourself the manner in which Dante found himself in The Reach.”

She paused there, the lightheartedness of her former jabs melting into sternness. Putting down her plum, Eirlys stood, moving to her son. “Say what you will about the Tyrells but they are not so easily rattled and they would never have fled a region leaving behind their own wards. So now, what would you propose I tell the good Lords that put the lives of their children in my hands, under your care in the Reach, about their very noticeable absence upon the unexpected return of my son?”

The soft chuckle that left his mother’s lips brought about confusion to the boy, he wasn’t sure how she was going to handle his words but laughter wasn’t one of the ones he had in mind. As silence filled in the time between speaking she ate at her plum and he thought about the speech to come, surely there was going to be some telling off, some annoyance at him leaving Dante behind even though there had been no indication from the man himself that that was indeed supposed to be the case; no he had been too captivated by the Lady Odessa to inform the younger Stag of any such orders given by his sister.

Finally the mother stopped eating at her plum and slowly wiped away the juices at the corner of her mouth, her words brought about a way of thinking in the son’s head, by her words alone not to mention the manner in which she spoke them she really had thought this was about a girl, that jealousy had taken over and he thought he could handle something that the cousin could not. A sigh dropped from the Lord as his eyes closed over, the last of her words edging over him just further more cementing the fact that he had been gone for seven years and clearly that was long enough to bring about doubts of his character into his mother’s mind. All light-heartedness left her words as she continued on about the Tyrells not being so easily rattled that they would have fled a region without their own wards and further more about what she was going to tell the Lords of the people he had supposed left behind without thought.

Her step closer had just brought about a want to move away from her presence, to say her words cut him would have been an understatement, not only had she turned his worries of putting a Tyrell into power around into him thinking he was better suited than his cousin or somehow had offended Storm’s End but then it actually seemed like she was questioning his care of the people. His people, the people that had been with him for just as long as he had been with his family years before. Other than Willem there weren’t but a handful of people sent to the Reach with him, and sure Willem had been his closet companion of all that time but the others were treated better than most of the same station.

“You may tell those Lords that when your own son spoke the truth over lying to kin he was aware enough to know how far the spider’s web in the Reach spread. That when it came to him possibly putting them in danger over his own actions that he chose to bear the path home alone rather than putting targets on the backs of those he cared for. That he didn’t stand as most other Lord’s would and keep the help between himself and harm but instead ordered them on a safer path home, with more eyes and presence around that would make even the deadliest of spiders think twice before striking out against people who knew nothing of the offence their Lord had made. And they may label me as a silly youth for going about things the way I did, but they will never label me as someone who had no care or respect for their beloved sons or daughters.”

To say his words matched the sternness of his mother’s would have been rather on point, even someone listening could have heard the mixed emotions of pain and anger in the way he spoke, his perception of her speech to him had done nothing more than cut at the feelings of happiness in his return and instead curdled them into him thinking that his mother saw him as ever other Lord or High born who would simply forget or leave behind those in their charge or worse; use them as fodder in their own defence.

Turning around the young Baratheon leaned his back against the pillar that held the balcony in place, is arms still at his side for a second before they folded over his chest as he looked down at his mother, she could have known instantly by the look that he had taken some personal offence by her words, by her perceived judgement of his actions and words; yet there was still that hint of wonder when he looked at her in a similar manner as he had all those years ago as he was taken towards the Reach.

“There was no disrespect meant towards my cousin or question of his being a stronger or worthier man than myself. Recent events have taught me well that I still have a lot to learn about the world and the people in it, and I’m sure if my sister thinks Dante will make a good King, then a great King he shall be. My concern for the Tyrell’s is not as simple as it sounds coming from a young, jealous boy’s mouth. They reign well and they reign supreme in their lands, and it is a wondrous land I will admit, like it has been for many years they tend not to step out of their own comfort and such have never really been worthy of upsetting the balance or effecting much outside of their own region…But now my sister plans on placing one of them on the throne and as such their influence and ideals will grow even further and I would be failing my duty as both Baratheon and brother of the Knighthood if I did not speak my truths in that I do not think their ambition will rest with a side seat of the realm, and the possibly path forward for them now is the Throne itself. “

Azaroth’s ideas and even ideals were still ones of a growing young Lord, his perception of the world and the people in it had been muddled from his times both North and West of the Storm Lands and his all but extremely closed off upbringing in the past seven years. At the end of the day he could only speak the truth, his truth and his version of how he viewed those people; even going so far as to have already thought his own mother looked down on him for actions that he had thought best at the time and it only now that when looking back that he wondered if his choice indeed had been the right one after all.

Here he was questioning himself yet again, what was about him that had him so tipped whenever emotions seemed to come about, for the second time in one month he had lashed out instead of calming thinking over the situation at hand. Azaroth’s body loosened from the stiff form he had only a few seconds ago to one that held some form of tiredness and defeat, his fingers were free from their balled up fists and his tense arms and squared jawline wasn’t so prominent anymore now that his teeth weren’t so tightly clenched.

Almost seven years had passed in the Reach and nothing like this had happened before, he recalled no account of his emotions bettering him or being stifled by them, effected to the point of defensiveness or anger. Was there something about being beyond those closed off walls, outside of the pampered life he was constantly trying to turn down and away from that caused him to fail time and time again in a real situation? Still thinking about the Reach and what his mother had said about the Lords and their families he couldn’t help but wonder if his choice had been the correct one, was it really what he thought best at the time or was it like his mother had pointed out, a cowardly act that had him fleeing with a tail between his legs. He wanted to tell himself no, that wasn’t the case, he held no fear of a Tyrell guard or two being sent his way, he had pride in his ability to defend himself but this wasn’t about that; more to the point it was about his lack of protecting those who swore allegiance to his family.

“I…” He tried to speak, tried to get words flowing from his mouth to express just what it was he was feeling inside yet just like every other time his emotions had been the better of the young Lord; perhaps he was more Stag than any of the other Baratheons but in the worst of ways, a simple animal who had no control over anything. “I failed them and I failed our house. If you could tell the Lords that your son made a reckless mistake because he thought he knew better, and if you could apologise to them on my behalf and have it known that their sons and daughters will be moved in their duties to someone more worthy than I. If it displeases you to speak of my mistakes then I shall tell the Lords myself, and pray to the gods their fealty to my brother does not falter because of my mistake.”

Eirlys realized immediately the cord she’d struck in her son. Truthful or not, in jest or not, he was not prepared to hear such things from his mother, perhaps not so soon after his arrival. He had been emotional from the moment he came through the door, something troubled him deeply, something beyond this strange return home. She should not have been so teasing, however others would not have been so aware of his feelings and there were times she could not spare his feelings in the face of reality. The reality was, his decision to part with company under his perceived distress in the Reach had been the wrong one. Though his intentions were good, it would not have saved him the much harsher critique from the children’s parents; their vassels.

As mother’s often do, Eirlys simply let her son talk himself right point to her original point. She watched the tension roll out of him and leave him defeated, deflated. Then she put her arms around him, drawing his head to her shoulder. Her fingers would pass over the sharp spines of his cropped hair, a dark fuzz over his skull. In that moment she missed his long, smooth locks even more. Missed brushing them back over his ears and out of his face as she often did to comfort him.

“You are still young, my son. Young and of such a noble mind with that Baratheon fury always there to cloud the edges of your reason. When I first heard word of your travels with a stranger, I sent for the others. If they are not here already they will be soon.”

She lifted his head then, cupping his face. Those Baratheon blues were so like his father; deep, pensive, shades of a dark storm or the light haze of warm days. “We will speak more on the matters with your cousin and sister after supper. There is no cause for you to speak to the other lords, I have taken careful care of it. Your things have been taken to your room. I will have a bath drawn for you and your clothes laid out. Go now, and see your friends. Oriana in particular is bursting to see your handsome face again.” She released him, with a final caress of his cheek before motioning to her outer doors. “Go on. I will see you and yours for supper.” … “Oh, and Azaroth, do bring your newest friend.”

It hadn’t been all but a few minutes since Azaroth left his mother’s chambers. To say the conversation they had had calmed the young Lord from his previous weeks situations would be completely wrong. Considering the conversation and how it took a sharp left turn then took another sharp right back to the starting point Azaroth was now starting to question his actions more than ever before; that’s to say before the past couple of weeks he had never really brought his own actions into question.

The minute he had left his Lady Mother’s chambers he sent two of the nearby pages to send word to both Oriana and Ryke, and made mention that he would see them at the front of the Castle where the others would either soon arrive from the Reach or perhaps would already be there waiting. Since Azaroth’s mother had already said they would be there soon he had no doubt in his mind that that would actually be the case.

It didn’t take him long to navigate the insides of Storm’s End, after all he had spent many years growing up in this place, running around the halls after his father, brother and sisters, bothering the Knights and guards to show him their weapons, manoeuvres and all sorts; so walking around the place again after seven years of absence was creating a rather nostalgic feel for the young Knight.

The sun was beating down from the slight cloudy sky as the Baratheon stood in the front yard of his home, his eerily blue eyes going back and forth from the entrance to Storm’s End to the corners in which both Oriana and Ryke would soon be coming from; though it wasn’t so much that the Lord was nervous, rather curious about what was to come next and what all he had left to talk about with his Lady Mother that very evening. He hadn’t a chance to change yet from the long journey back from the Reach, so like before he was coated in a simple brown leather tunic with matching trousers and boots, arm guards and gloves still on and no matter how much his mother had wished it back; his previous raven black boyish strands of hair were now absent.

Executioner: It was one of those days, where time dragged out; moments seemed like days. A result of the carriage ride back to Storms End, but it was nothing like days in The Reach. The days went by fast but the amount of training that filled one day would stack on one another and make the next day worse and then the next; months would go by before one would get use to the exhaustion and the muscle aches. Seven long years of it, a time that was not missed even in the slightest as he reflected back on it. Word had been sent forward about the young lords return, although it wasn't particularly something he was happy about due to his closest friend leaving a day earlier. Orion was always a required taste, his personality didn't fit in with a political crowd. His sharp tongue and quick witt caused him to experience the rough side of the Reach. But also a bond between him another. The hoofs of the horses dragging the carriage stomped there way up the path toward the large gate across the massive bridge. Orion dropped from the cart and parted away as it continued to roll onward, taking his own path to the castle. His figure stretched out and revealed the young Lords sleek figure wrapped in leather, a recurve bow in hand and sword strapped to his back. He moved his way through up the street toward the castle, it had been a long time since he seen all this; his sky blue eyes dancing over the stone structure ahead. Although he was glad to see what he considered his home, he was intimidated by the idea of it holding him down although his smug little smirk would never show it. Approaching the gate, his thoughts brought him to his sister; he'd forgotten about her during his time in The Reach. He was curious what he missed and even more so what was going to happen in his return.

Executioner: It was one of those days, where time dragged out; moments seemed like days. A result of the carriage ride back to Storms End, but it was nothing like days in The Reach. The days went by fast but the amount of training that filled one day would stack on one another and make the next day worse and then the next; months would go by before one would get use to the exhaustion and the muscle aches. Seven long years of it, a time that was not missed even in the slightest as he reflected back on it. Word had been sent forward about the young lords return, although it wasn't particularly something he was happy about due to his closest friend leaving a day earlier. Orion was always a required taste, his personality didn't fit in with a political crowd. His sharp tongue and quick witt caused him to experience the rough side of the Reach. But also a bond between him another. The hoofs of the horses dragging the carriage stomped there way up the path toward the large gate across the massive bridge. Orion dropped from the cart and parted away as it continued to roll onward, taking his own path to the castle. His figure stretched out and revealed the young Lords sleek figure wrapped in leather, a recurve bow in hand and sword strapped to his back. He moved his way through up the street toward the castle, it had been a long time since he seen all this; his sky blue eyes dancing over the stone structure ahead. Although he was glad to see what he considered his home, he was intimidated by the idea of it holding him down although his smug little smirk would never show it. Approaching the gate, his thoughts brought him to his sister; he'd forgotten about her during his time in The Reach. He was curious what he missed and even more so what was going to happen in his return.


Flintlock: A groan erupted from the guard sitting on the far side of the table that the bored and curious merc was currently watching. The guard across from the groaning guard smiled a smug smile as he swept his winnings off of the table and into the purse that was seated in his lap. He boasted as he did so, “What is that, the sixth time in the row, Archie? Yer not quite good, eh?” The losing guard glared. “Shut yer mouth, you bloated bastard. Luck’s on your side, s’all.” Ryke shook his head silently, his dark form leaning against the side of one of the men’s bunkbeds. That wasn’t true. The merc had been suspicious since the third roll, and the sixth roll confirmed it. The winning guard was cheating. He had offered to use his own dice for the game, after all. The dice had to be weighted. Ryke’s emerald gaze narrowed at the cheating man in question. He was debating in his head rather he should step in or not. It wasn’t any of his business, yes, but the cheating guard was robbing the other guard of his hard earned coin. It irked the mercenary. You don’t cheat your comrades. Unprovoked, at least. It just wasn’t right. He battled the internal battle for a second before finally pushing up from the leaning position. The merc made his way to the table As he neared the table, the two guards looked up at him. They both seemed to size him up. The cheating one seemed to find no problem with him and gave him a nod of acknowledgment. The cheated one, however, curled his mouth in disgust. It seemed as if he had something against mercenaries. Ryke was used to that. He briefly entertained the thought of leaving the man to his fate since he wanted to make assumptions, but he vanished the thought. The merc stopped when he was beside the table. He turned his gaze onto the cheated guard. He flicked his head towards the cheating guard, his arms crossed over his chest. “You two are using his dice. He’s winning every time. Every time. They seem to be stopping on one number. Every time.” At that point, the cheating guard seemed to notice what the merc was trying to do and stood from his chair abruptly, causing it to topple backwards. The guard glared at him and said in an incredulous voice, “Are you tellin’ him I’m cheating? Why, I oughta sock you right now!” Ryke ignored him. If the guard tried to swing at him, he was confident that he would be able to react accordingly. He kept his eyes on the cheated guard, who was looking at the cheating guard suspiciously, and continued to speak to him. “Just think about it.” The cheated guard got to his feet then, and began to speak to the cheater guard, who was fuming at this point. Ryke wasn’t listening, however. His name had been called. The merc turned to face the source of the voice. A page had been sent for him. He was to meet Azaroth at the front of the palace. Ryke nodded before moving to the door that led into the hallway, leaving the now arguing guards to their business. He had done what he wanted to do. It was up to them to handle it. The merc exited the guard’s quarters and made his way to the front of the castle. He had made a point to remember the route that he had been led through. It was useful to know where you were going. A few moments later, Ryke was exiting to the front of the castle. His emerald gaze immediately found the hulking figure of Azaroth Baratheon. He made his way over to the noble with no preamble. He too had not had the chance to change, so he was still in his black armor, boots, arm guards, and gloves. He had removed the fur from his shoulder, and his sword and dagger had been taken away from him upon entry to Storm’s End. He felt naked without them, but he wouldn’t let anyone know. He settled beside Azaroth, which felt natural at this point, with a nod to the man. He crossed his arms over his chest as his emerald gaze found the gate. Someone was approaching it.

Highlander: Oriana was practically thrumming with excitement. It had been a long seven years without her twin, without her friend- and here she was getting them both back in one fell swoop! It was like the holidays come early. She had taken off running down the hall, dodging maids and washerwomen as they went their rounds in the lower parts of the castle, slowing to a ladylike stride whenever she passed the door of a room that might have held her betters only to take off once again as soon as she was past. She took the halls in a blur of creme and brown, her mind spinnig. What must they look like now? Surely a complete change- would they recognise her as well? At sixteen she was taller, more fully a lady than she had been when they left. Did they still like the same things? Laugh at the same jokes? Just as she was descending the steps to the door that led to the yard, a massive arm swung out in her path. She almost lost her footing but managed to duck it, bouncing on her toes as she straightened up, catching her breath as one of the guards laughed at her. "Slow it down lass, propriety and all that." he grinned, used to her enthusiasm but fully aware of Eirlys' preferences. She nodded a little, taking the steps slower till she came to the yard, pushing the door open and stepping out into it. It took her eyes a moment to adjust before she noted a tall, familiar looking lad standing in the yard with his hair cut to barely there bristle. "Azaroth..?" she hazarded the word, her light voice carrying across the courtyard as she headed towards the massive male and his unfamiliar companion, her steps quickening as she started to recognise more of his features. "Az!" She had reached him before she knew it, colliding with his side in a hug, though he dwarfed her in size in an almost comical manner. At the last moment her brain registered propriety over excitement and she let go of him, stepping back to look up at his face, a bright smile painted on her own. "By the Gods- Look how tall!"

Azaroth turned at the sounds of light footsteps carrying out over the ground behind him, Ryke approached in his almost always cautious manner and the young Stag gave a slightly smile from the corner of his lips when he noticed the mercenary was without his tools; something he was sure the man himself felt rather naked without. He had just about to speak to the man and let him know of the meal that was planned for the night, also that he’d have a fresh room with a warm bath and heavy quilted bed to sleep in but he had also had other things to talk about with the merc, one of coin and possibly the future. Yet Azaroth’s thought process had cut him off when the heavy gates of Storm’s End opened and the guards let past someone he hadn’t seen in little over a few weeks, though for the last seven years he’d seen him almost every day without fail.

Azaroth gave a slight sigh of comfort now that Orion had arrived, after all with that his mother had said it could have been possible for the Tyrells to take out his truth’s on the young Selmy, though the Gods had seen fit to bring one of his closer friends home, and he was sure where Orion came the others would follow. Taken back from the scene of the young Selmy walking towards he and Ryke, Azaroth turned at the sound of someone he hadn’t seen in just over seven years, someone he had wanted to accompany him to the Reach but wasn’t allowed, Orion’s sister and from the looks of it definitely more prettier of the twins, Oriana. It hadn’t been a few seconds that he heard her call his name before her arms had wrapped around his waist, as far around as she could get them that was; unlike before he had left when the three were all almost the same height, Azaroth now stood far above her height which was even more cemented as her head landed near his chest but before he knew it she was detached from him; standing proper and prim with a bright smile painted on her face as she spoke.

“It would be a mistake to say I’m the only one who has grown in the time we have been apart, Lady Oriana. Not including your own blooming you will soon see your own brother has become somewhat of a catch to the opposite sex, that is until he opens his mouth; it still tends to get him into rather sticky situations.”

Azaroth took the moment after his words to look over his old friend, once again to say he was the only one who had changed in the years would have been a lie the Gods themselves would call him out on, especially given the…Change Oriana had gone through. From her new feminine curves to the lumps in her chest that he didn’t recall being there the last time he had said goodbye to her and finishing it off with her facial features and that long ash blonde hair that matched her twin’s so perfectly; it was true to say the squire he had left was completely different to the woman they had returned to, yet as much as he favoured the ashen strands of hair of both twins a more vibrant colour had situated itself in his mind; that of flames so hot the Lord of Light himself would claim her as his own.

“Ryke, this is my squire and friend, Lady Oriana Selmy, soon to appear is her brother, Orion Selmy; and this is rather naked mercenary is my sword for now, Oriana; I owe him more than a few dragons for his part in keeping me alive on the way home, be sure to treat him well.”

Executioner: As the approach got shorter and shorter, the details of familiar faces started to show. The dome shaped head of Azaroth was none but too familiar as for the girl whom rushed into an embrace, sister.. Strange how time can change a person, surely it was a shock to Orion that his sister was grown. The other, he wasn't sure about; curious looking though. Orion's eyes glanced back toward the shaven head of Azaroth before bellowing out. -Orion.- "I know that boulder headed pig did not leave me behind! So much for always having each other's back." A smirk pulled at the edges of his lips as he made his way toward them, no more than ten yards now. -Orion.- "It seems being home didn't make you any less ugly." His smirk now a full grin, expressing his white teeth as he waved out his hand to embrace his brother's grip. Assuming Azaroth did return the greeting gesture, Orion would chuckle lightly and look to his sister as he pushed his bow over his shoulder/head to allow it to hang off his frame. -Orion.- "My dear sister.. I know that I can have confidence when I say that you are beautiful because you look just like me. I've missed you."

Flintlock: Ryke tilted his head to the side slightly as he saw the gates being opened to reveal a tall, ashen blonde haired Lord making his way over to the pair. The merc began to analyse him out of pure habit. Before he could make many observations, however, there was suddenly the sound of a girl’s voice, and then the heavy patter of footsteps running toward the pair. The merc turned accordingly to look in that direction, his left hand going to his waist out of pure habit. Ah yes, he thought as he grasped for air. He was currently unarmed. Good thing he had no need for a weapon, however. The similarly ashen blonde haired lady running towards them, a wide smile on her face, didn’t seem as if she were attempting to kill the young Lord Baratheon. Ryke relaxed, his hand dropping down to hand by his side. He stepped away slightly as the girl barrelled into Azaroth, effectively trapping him, or attempting to, anyways, in her embrace. Her arms could barely fit around the hulk of the man, however. The sight was quite humorous. The merc looked on stoically as the two interacted. Ryke was able to pick up the appraising look that Azaroth had given the girl as he looked her up and down. He knew what that meant. The merc tilted his head slightly as he looked over the woman. She was indeed attractive, yes. However…. Ryke looked back to the Lord. There was a spark that was absent in his gaze that was there when a certain other redhead had caught his sight. At the thought of Rana, Ryke felt his stomach turn a bit. He ignored it, however, and it went away. He was brought out of his mind by the sound of Azaroth’s voice introducing him to the Lady. At the Lord’s kind words, the merc simply shook his head and released a chuckle, attempting to be somewhat sociable. He was confident that Azaroth could see through to his discomfort, however. They had both picked up on each others’ mannerisms during their time together. Ryke’s emerald gaze focused on the Lady Oriana. He bowed his head to her before his deep voice sounded not a second later, “The pleasure is mine, M’Lady.” He turned his gaze to the Lord Orion as he approached the trio. Ryke looked onto the interaction between the three. He tilted his head slightly. The three were close. It was an interesting dynamic to see, to say the least, one that the merc was unaccustomed to. Alas, Ryke like to think that he was adaptable. The merc waited to be addressed, slightly off to the side from the three nobles. Hi arms were crossed over his chest, and his gaze was steady and attentive.

Highlander: He had grown...quite handsome, the little Storm Lord. She had been a little caught up in the details of him before she noticed the once over she was receiving herself and her face flushed a little, the colour clinging to her cheeks as she turned to face the young man who seemed to be a companion to Azaroth. She gave a small dip as though to curtsy despite not having the skirts to accompany the motion. "Oh, its mine surely. Will you be joining us for dinner the-" her words were cut off as her twin greeted her, her face lighting up in much the same way as it had before as she moved to hug him. "Are you sure it isn't you who are pretty because you look like -me-?" she teased, her eyes tiny blue triangles of amusement as she glanced over at the merc standing a bit detached. "I apologise for my brother. He insists on being the centre of attention. Ignore him- he hates that." she grinned, looking up at her brother as she released him. "You look so much like our Lord Uncle it is almost unsettling." she mused, gently dusting off the road dirt she had gotten on her clothes from hugging him. "I missed you both dearly, the castle is quite boring without the two of you helping me make trouble." she said , looking between them.

Azaroth laughed lightly as Orion made his presence known by his smart ass words and as they embraced each other with their arms Azaroth spoke back with a smart ass tone that was equally matching the Selmy Lord. “You were not left behind, Orion. I simply gifted the Tyrells a new man to clean up after their horses…Apparently they have better men for the job, so keep you I must.” He laughed lightly once more, it had been the first time in a while that he remember feeling this way, having his friends around him again had taken away from the solemnness of the past few weeks.

As the twins greeted each other and Ryke moved himself off to the edge of the group Azaroth took note and clocked it as he listened to both Selmy going at each other with their quick wits and then the added sibling love from Oriana who was comparing Orion to his uncle; though to say Azaroth found it a little odd that he wasn’t compared to their father would have been rather on the money.

While the siblings continued speaking the young Lord nodded to them both and stepped away for a second, interjecting in their conversation for just a moment to tell them that he needed to speak to Ryke about previous matters. It wasn’t long before he approached the merc and tilted his head towards the side, aiming in direction that he would walk and waited for Ryke to follow aside him before he’d even begin to speak.

“My Lady Mother would have your company at supper tonight, there has been a room made up for you, a bath will be drawn and proper clothes laid out for you. Now; would you have our arrangement end here so you can be off to another adventure, or would you have a place at my side for the foreseeable future? Do not rush to answer my question; I know it may take some thinking, if you have an answer by morning that would work just as well for me. “