Finally they returned, it was late evening by then and still Robyn had not woken up . Clara was beginning to worry, if he had Robb hid it well.
New Castle was rather quiet as they arrived but as soon as Jon was alerted the whole keep seemed to come alive. It wasn't a surprise, Robb had done the impossible, the Captian was alive, unconscious but alive. Jon, however was more curious about the bruises on Clara as she ran to hug him around the waist. "I'm fine, I swear they found me just in time." She said smiling. "She's alive Pup, the captain is alive! " she exclaimed pivoting the subject a little. "Thank you for sending Ghost along with Da'Karro, it's nice to see you two getting along " she beamed, reaching up on her toes and kissing his cheek. "I'm going to see to the captain," she said before scurrying off as Robb carried Robyn to his chambers, she noticed Casey out of the corner of her eye but he oddly kept his distance purposely it seemed. Why? (sorry so short, posting via phone...)

Dawn fell on New Castle and in the chamber of The King of The North, The King slumbered. Beside him lay a beautiful woman, draped over his chest, her head resting over his heart. Her sliver hair, radiant as the moon, cascaded down her back and spilled onto the sheets. Her skin, fine as the richest silk was kissed by the sun like a lover waking her for a new day. She smiled softly as sleep slipped away and her mind began to stir. Her hand ran up the kings chest and he stirred as well, but only for a moment. As her emerald green eyes slowly flicked open and she looked upon the face of the sleeping man that would one day be her husband a feeling of serenity fell over her. It had been so long since he'd been able to sleep soundly through the night. His worries plagued him at night. Through dreams and even prophetic visions, so often accompanied by the image of a three eyed raven he'd tell her. Last night when he came to her she'd boasted, jokingly, that he would be too tired to dream when she was done with him.

Now he slept, perhaps too exhausted from their romp the night prior, perhaps finally at peace with his duties as king. Whatever the case Jon Stark slept soundly and Amelia Targaryen rose from the bed they shared. She slowly made her way across the room, her bare feet padding softly across the old wooden floor. Amelia was still getting used to the cold here in The North. Everything was cold. The days were cold, the nights were colder. Even now as the sun woke the world the very floor she walked on seemed chilled and frosty. She was quick to step on the bear skin rug on the other side of the room where some of her clothes had been set. She slipped on a pair of soft, doeskin slippers lined with rabbit fur given to her by Jon's uncle Eddard for those cold Northern mornings as he put it. He'd said his wife and daughters swore by them. As her feet slipped inside the soft fur she could see why.

She pulled on a thin night gown then a heavier, woolen robe before she sat in front of the mirror to tend to her hair. She missed Missandei. She missed the young woman's voice and her stories as the two women would do each others hair in the mornings. She missed Ser Jorah and his ever watchful eye and dutiful council. He still didn't even know she was due to marry Jon. She wondered what he'd say about the engagement. Most of all she missed her children, her dragons. She'd never been away from them this long and her heart yearned for them.

There was a soft knock at the door followed by Jon's squire's voice, begging pardon and asking permission to enter the room in order to change the chamber pot.

"Come in."

Amelia said politely. Podrick stepped into the room, half tip toeing, worried as to the early hour when at truth the sun had been up for some time and it was Jon and Amelia who had been sleeping in. He gave Amelia a hurried half bow.

"Beg'n your pardon, Your Grace. I'll just change these and get out of your way. Apologies."

He said emphatically as he hurried in with two new chamber pots to replace the used ones that needed a good washing out. Amelia found her self smiling at the young man. He was so worried all the time about doing a good job he often spent more time falling over himself to realize how splendid a job he was actually doing.

"No need to apologize Podrick, please. Really, it's no bother at all."

Podrick nodded respectfully to Amelia as he collected the dirty chamber pots and rushed for the door.

"My thanks, Your Grace."

He said as he readied to leave. Amelia's mind snapped back to her yearning to those she missed and she called out for Podrick before he left.

"Podrick?"

"Yes, Your Grace?"

He asked, standing in the door.

"Would you bring me some parchment? And a quill and ink as well?"

"Of course, Your Grace. Right away."

He said and Podrick was off. Amelia turned back to the mirror to finish readying her long, trademark hair for the day. She had decided to braid it in the Dothraki fashion today. That meant she had a bit of braiding to do so she set to her task, her delicate fingers moving with practiced ease as her betrothed roused from his slumber.



Arya loved her gift. The shinning Mithril was light as a feather but as hard as dragon scales, or at least that's what she had been told by New Castle's meister when she'd asked about it. Her cousin Jon had gotten it for her and she couldn't be more pleased. She finally had armor of her own and it was light and thin so she could wear it under her clothes and it not be seen. That allowed her to sneak around effortlessly without a big clunky suit of iron or steel. She had always wondered that as she grew would she get a suit of armor like her brother and cousin? If so how in the world was she supposed to be stealthy with all that mess?

In any case she had her new gift and she had to thank her cousin. She ran to his room but only found Amelia. She was nice enough but reminded her too much of Sansa. Ever since their reunion Sansa had been practically stuck to her side. She and her sister had this long, boring talk when they got back about how sad Sansa was that Arya didn't want her as a sister and she'd told her that she'd overheard her saying that to Clara. Arya had to admit, she did feel a little bad about that. She had never intended for Sansa to hear that. So Sansa had decided they were going to try, really try and get along. Arya had her reservations but she promised she'd try. That didn't mean she had to spend every waking minute with her older sister.

She left Amelia in the room where she was finishing getting dressed and bounded down the stairs for the great hall. It was there she found her cousin. He was seated at the long table breaking his fast on oats, chickens eggs, brown bread, fresh berries and beer. He was sitting with her father and Lord Umber along with the three mercenary captains that just signed on with them the other day. The braavosi was casually sopping up some porridge. The Hound, as he was called, was tearing into some chicken. The other man, the man named Jaqen had an empty plate in front of him. He'd either finished eating or never ate at all and was sipping some cool water from his mug. As she approached, quiet as a mouse he seemed to sense her and turn in an instant. His odd eyes locking on to hers and a faint smile touched his lips.

"Lovely girl, good morning."

He said with a respectful nod. Arya froze in her tracks a moment and stared at him. No one ever caught her sneaking up on them before. She nodded back to him and mumbled some greeting before making her way around the table to Jon. Her father said good morning to her, which she returned but for Jon she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him lovingly.

"Thanks so much for the gift Jon, I love it."

Jon seemed pleased by the hug but confused more than anything.

"Gift? What gift?"

She let go of him and stepped back, unsure if he was trying to play some sort of joke on her.

"The shirt?.... The one you left in my room? The Mirthil one you idiot."

The Hound chuckled at that and the Braavosi smirked. Her father chided her for insulting Jon but he waved it off with a laugh.

"I'd love to take credit for that Arya but I swear, I left no Mithril shirt in your room. I think I might remember that."

Her father leaned forward and pulled her toward him. His fingers tugged at her collar and he touched the Mithril beneath. He inspected it for a moment and Lord Umber, who was craning in his seat to see, let loose an impressed whistle.

"Fine work. That is a kingly gift."

"Yes... but not from this king."

Lord Eddard said, seeming troubled. Her father seemed troubled about everything.

"Well if you didn't give this to me, who did?"

Jon shrugged in his seat.

"Don't know, it's a mystery looks like."

"Mystery eh?"

Arya said intrigued before she headed off. Her father told her to be sure to take the shirt off and leave it in his room until they found out whose it was. Arya promised but never did make it to her fathers room, even hours later.



Robb carried her in his arms as Da'Karro stalked at his left and Clara and her new pup pranced in front. She was happy to be home and Robb was just happy Robyns ordeal was done with. He walked right passed the others, caring little for their stares of disbelief at Robyn Sheva alive and in his arms. They all took her for dead, they all gave up and he had no time for them. His cousin rushed out to meet them, as shocked as the rest of them. It was harder to be mad at Jon but Jon should have known better than to give up on her.

"Robb? Is that?..."

He began before Robb cut him off.

"She's not dead."

He snapped as he walked up the steps and began moving past Jon.

"Where was she?"

He asked.

"The Dread Fort."

He shot back, over his shoulder not caring to stop and chat. As Robb continued up the stairs and towards his room he barked for a meister to come tend to Robyn's numerous wounds. Leaving a very confused Jon with a very excited Clara who, at the moment was thanking him for sending Ghost with Da'Karro. Jon was more than just confused, he had no idea what was going on. He turned to look at Amelia who was rushing over to embrace Clara.

"Clara, what happened to you? Are you alright? What happened to the captain?"

Jon looked down at Ghost and could still see the dried blood around his muzzle.

"I'm fine, I swear. They found me just in time."

She said smiling before she scurried off after the captain and Robb. Jon shared a look with Amelia and they both broke out into a happy and relieved chuckle as well as both sharing in a bit of confusion. Jon would give them some time before going after Robb to get the whole story.

Casey watched as Robb carried Robyn off.

He failed her. He truly failed her. He should have known better, better then a man she'd only just met, but he didn't. How could he ever face her again, knowing how badly he failed her, how he gave up on her.

"William, Stop this..." Tenanye said coming up behind her. "She's alive..." He said. " He knew it, He knew it and there she is, how could I possibly face her again, knowing that I believed her to be dead too. I've known her since we were teenagers, and I just gave up." He said and Tenanye sighed. "How could you have known?" " I should have believed."He said exasperatedly before stalking off. Tenanye just watched him, she knew the storm was brewing within him and she didn't know what he'd do.

******

As Robb set her on the bed, Clara quickly got to helping the meisers heal her wounds, most of the wounds had been healed but it was only enough to keep her alive, and just barely. The meisers were worried she may not survive much longer and the're worry grew as her heartbeat was barely audible. Clara, oddly could hear it. " She's still alive, keep healing her." She said and the meisers got to healing her.

It wasn't long after that Robyn's heart was beating strong, yet she was still out of it. Clara sighed as the meisers had finished their work and departed leaving only her and Robb alone. "I'll leave you alone, talk to her, maybe it'll wake her up." She said before kissing his temple and walking out.

Dusk turned to night and as the moon stood it's vigil over The North a king and queen walked the halls of New Castle. Jon walked with purpose, the good fortune of Robb's return with Robyn Sheva inspired him. He was going to discuss with Roth tonight the taking of Winterfell. He felt the time had come. They had been raiding and liberating small settlements, villages and slave camps for weeks now and haven't lost a battle yet. With their strong momentum and superior numbers they should be able to free Winterfell from the yolk of Wanhopes rule easily. Jon yearned for that castle, to see it's old grey stone and squat but homey towers. The way the walls seemed to radiate heat during frigid nights due to the hot spring water running through the structure like veins carrying blood through a body. The way the gods wood seemed to whisper to you on quiet mornings. Jon wanted to smell meals cooking in the kitchens again, and hear laughter as children played. He wanted home.

Amelia's hand reached out and took his as he walked and Jon smiled. As long as he had her, he'd always be home he thought. He kissed her softly before they turned the corner and nearly walked into one of the maesters that had been sent to tend to Robyn Sheva.

"Maester Karlon? How is the captain?"

Jon asked in concern. The old maester bowed his head, looking weary after his long hours of work.

"She is stable, now. She had a hard rode ahead of her and I, in earnest, was not certain she would survive the journey but she pulled through the worst of it. That woman is strong."


"Yes, she is."

Amelia said proudly. She remembered well the powerful, pirate captain aboard the Harbinger battling it out during the storm to bring them into safe harbor. She weathered that storm and she weathered this one. Amelia made a mental note to say a prayer to the Mother, Maiden and the Warrior in thanks later.

The maester took his leave and left Jon and Amelia alone in the long hall.

"Amelia, Roth and the other lords should be assembling in the hall for supper. Would you attend them? I want to see how the captain is fairing."

Amelia looked a tad taken aback by the request, even a little uncertain which was rare for her.

"Jon, I'm a foreigner. I'm not sure I-"

She began before Jon cut her off, taking her hands in his.

"You're their queen, or soon enough you will be."

Amelia looked into those deep, black eyes of the man who'd won her heart and a smile crept across her face.

"Alright."

Jon kissed her and bid his farewell before heading off to visit Captain Sheva leaving Amelia Targaryen to address the court of The North.



Robb was at her bedside, still in his armor, still with caked on mud from the road and blood from the Dread Fort. He hadn't taken the time to change, he hadn't wanted to leave Robyn for that long. She was sleeping soundly now. She so rarely slept. She thought he never noticed but he did. She rested, she closed her eyes and let her mind slow but she rarely slept. Too on edge, to defensive. That was one of the many reasons that night they spent together in the hot springs was so special to Robb. She had given herself to him wholly. She had surrendered and allowed herself to be completely vulnerable because she knew he was there. It was the greatest gift he had ever received.

There was a soft knock at the door and Robb rose, expecting to see one of the maesters or even Clara. Instead it was Jon standing in the hall looking concerned for the both of them.

"How is she?"

Jon asked.

"Sleeping."

Robb replied before he turned to head back into the room. He reclaimed his seat at her side and Jon took up a chair beside him.

"Maester Karlon says she's through the worst of it."

Jon offered. Robb just nodded, not saying a word. He was still upset with Jon as he was with the rest of the damned court and her so called friends who abandoned her. Jon picked up on the tension and looked at the cousin he saw as a brother.

"I thought I was the brooding one."

He said, only half joking. Robb growled under his breath.

"I'm not brooding."

"No? What do you call it? Pouting?"

Robb turned to glare at Jon who stared back at his cousin, unafraid of his wrath.

"You thought she was dead. You all did."

Jon nodded.

"Aye, I did. I had every reason to believe that. You yourself found a body, charred beyond recognition, covered in her coat. What was I supposed to think?"

Jon shot back at Robb, not about to be made to feel guilty for merely believing what the facts before him told him.

"You've known her longer than I have. You really think a couple of Khalidorian spell throwers could kill Captain Robyn Sheva?"

Robb snarled bitterly. Jon's face grew dark with loss and anger.

"I don't know Robb... They killed both my parents and my sister and my brothers. What do you think? Do you think they could take something from you that you love? Do you think they could do the one thing you thought could never happen?"

Robb's anger met Jon's loss and in that moment, anger blinked first. Robb turned away, ashamed of himself and his thinking that Jon didn't understand. If anyone knew just what Khalidor was capable of it was Jon. He was right. He did have every reason to believe she was dead. No one else had the connection to her he did. No one felt about Robyn the way Robb did. It shouldn't have been a surprise that when the evidence, when the facts, when the whole damned world told him she was gone that he stood alone knowing the truth.

"Sorry Jon...

Robb said leaning forward, tiredly. Jon chuckled and leaned forward as well.

"It's fine, lets just not start hugging alright?"

Jon joked and Robb, even in his mood, couldn't help but snicker.

"You look like shit by the way."

Jon added and Robb broke out into laughter.

A shipment had came through from the western part of Khalidor to White Harbor. It was originally meant for Wanhope, but the merchants were paid for the goods by Roth all the same. It was everything needed to have a classical Khalidoran feast. A feast that he would use to enlighten the Northern leaders of the Khalidoran culture other than its religion.

When everyone was in the dinning hall, Roth ordered the food to be brought in. Just as it was in Khalidor, the main meals didn't have much grain or fruit. Instead there were meats that were native to his lands. Deer, elk, turkey, bison lined the tables while pork and beef were in smaller quantities. Spices were served with each meat, spices that came from every corner of the empire, many of which had never been seen by the likes of Northern men. Then of course there were the drinks. While vodka was placed everywhere, so was coffee, and the most important of the drinks, chocolate. Cocoa was discovered through trade across the frozen sea and had been magically grown by the meisters ever since, although under recent years its also been grown around Falkland. The drink itself was combined with vanilla, cinnamon, sugar, and other spices to enhance the flavor.

Roth was sitting with the Starks. Jon, of coarse, was sitting at the head of the table while Roth sat near. He was talking to Amelia as always and his family members were talking to other people. There were two who stood out in the crowd. Arya being the younger and the one called Sansa. Her reddish hair was what stood out, a trait that was extremely rare among his people. Many in Khalidor believed that Khali had red hair and even the Godkings, those who have actually seen Her, claimed the theory was true. So the color was considered by many to be divine and that those with reddish hair were of divine beauty.

While the prince sipped at his frothy drink, he glanced again at Arya. Did she receive his gift or did she even know it was from him? As the feast went on his eyes kept flickering back to her, wondering if he should talk.

"Sitting a vast field of green, Robyn looked out into the distance watching the sea that seemed just out of her reach. "You should go now?" called a small voice from behind her, she turned to see a dark skinned, curly haired girl standing there, looking down at her "You really should." she said factually. "I know, I've been trying." Robyn said. " Not hard enough." She said plainly. Robyn sighed. "Why not?" said the girl. "I don't know." She said. " Yes, you do. Why haven't you gone yet?" the girl asked.
Robyn sighed.
"I am afraid."
"'Of What?"
"Him."
"Who?"
"Robb."
"Why?"
"Because I love him"
"Why are you afraid to?"
"Because I don't know how..."
The girl then took a seat beside her and gave a rye smile. "You're afraid to love...Really?"
"You know I don't remember asking your opinion..."

"Mine is the only opinion that matters...mine and....his." She said and it was then that Robb's smile flash across her thoughts. That wolfish grin that warmed her blood and calmed her spirit all at once. Gods she loved him but she was afraid, She wasn't a normal woman, she wasn't taught how to do any of this, how to give her heart away, and even though she did, she didn't know how to get him to keep it. She's always been a fleeting thing, a novelty, she was afraid that one day, the novelty will wear off and then what.
"You won't know until you try." said the girl.

"I don't like to fail."
"Then don't...You didn't fail me."
"I failed you worst of all."
"No you haven't, Remember what you wanted to be."
"Yes."
"You've found it, now all you have to do is go."
"How can you be so sure...?"
"Because he's waiting for you." The girl then stood up and starting walking off.
"You haven't failed me yet..." She said and Robyn watched her before looking out at the sea again. Finally, she stood up and started walking toward the water, before long she stood at the edge, where a large cliff stood, towering over the water below.

When the seas grow rough, come to me, I am your harbor."

Robyn took a breath and closed her eyes, and let herself fall.
"I'm coming..."

With a loud gasp, Robyn's eyes opened and she sprang to a sitting position, her head swam and she could barely breath but she calmed when her eyes locked with his. She had no words but her eyes said it all.

---

Clara sat at the dining table with the rest of her family, Roth, Queen Tenanye, Queen Amelia and Da'Karro, yet her mind went to Robyn and Robb and subsequently, Casey. He wasn't at dinner and she hadn't seen him since they arrived. Her eyes flickered to Queen Tenanye, as suddenly, she seemed to have a hard time breathing. She stood up sharply. " Sumimasen." She said quickly before exiting the room, Clara stood up and nodded to Jon, letting him know she was leaving after her.

"Milday?" Clara asked after catching up with her. "Casey's gone." She said breathing heavily. "How do you know?"

"I felt it, He moved so quickly." She said holding her chest and Clara frowned sadly. " Why would he leave, the Captian's back..."
"That's exactly why..." Tenanye said and took a deep breath, finally calming down. Clara frowned and shook her head. "Well, Let's finish dinner, we'll figure something out afterwards." She said and Tenanye nodded. She had to get it together, yes, her progeny left suddenly, breaking their connection like severing a tightly pulled rope, but she had to keep her composure, soon the King of Drake would be arriving and she couldn't be distracted by this. She and Clara reentered the dining hall and took their respective seats, she nodded a small apology and got to her dinner.

It had been a long time since he visited the North, Moloch noted. He never thought he'd be received by Lord Eddard Stark again after he heard of Wanhope's sacking of the country. He had had mixed feelings about that but, ever the pragmatist, saw the advantage in sticking with Wanhope at that time. Now, he would be forging connections that would determine his kingdom's future. Once again, he had left Kallias in charge of ruling the kingdom in his stead with Tyrion as his Steward. Soon enough, he was at the gates of White Harbor.

"Inform Lord Stark, Prince Roth and Queen Tenanye that I have arrived," he ordered the guards. One of the guards shot him a glare. It was common knowledge that he had been allied with Wanhope, after all.

"I hate the North. Its people are much too serious. Rather like you, Eirene," Cyrus noted from his right side. Said guardswoman shot him a glare.

"They are a great people. They don't turn senile in their old age."

Moloch listened to the two of them spar. The inroduction of firearms into the army hadn't gone well with his bodyguard while Cyrus had embraced it. The drakons would remain a formidable power for the near future, Moloch knew, but now, they were no longer the invulnerable force they once were.

It was odd having Sheva back. Having a friend die, be farewelled, mourned, and accepted, then have her returned, not exactly well, but alive. He had been so preoccupied with the Count in the Cabin, he had not even noticed her presence till he had walked out, bloody, dazed and disturbed. He had tortured many men before, he had heard many scream, but the focus of a mad man is a hard thing to comprehend. The Count had never looked at him. His blade had carved and sliced and flayed, the burning hot poker he had taken from the fire had seared and scorched, the back of his blade had beaten and broken, but not once had the man looked at him. Only ever watching Robb, the man who was allowing such an atrocity to occur. It had been many years since Da'Karro had felt regret over the torture of a guilty man but something about that night had been wrong. He should have told Robb to leave, he shouldn't have let the man stay as long as he did. Watching, allowing, someone to be tortured before you was something that changed you inside. Da'Karro had become so desensitised to the depravity that it no longer affected him, but He worried for Robb. The man grew darker in the soul by the day, falling further and further to where the beasts lay in the hearts of men. Da'Karros beast was already free, lurking behind his eyes. If he could save Robb from a similar fate, perhaps it was one way he could redeem himself to Ishka. He sat beside Clara at the feast organised by the Khalidoran princeling, but he found it hard to eat. The food reminded him of the scraps he used to live on during his time as a slave, and he tried his hardest not to smell the spices that pervaded the air. He watched Robb sit with Jon, they talked and laughed between Jons talks with The Khalidoran prince and The White haired Queen. It suddenly occurred to him how little he knew about his new found compatriots. He had never really had friends before, he wasn't sure what the term meant. Were he and Casey friends? Was the Captain? Jon? He honestly didn't know. What was the difference between a comrade, an ally, and a friend?
"Scarlet," he said, leaning over to his love and holding her hand, "What is a friend? I mean, what makes someone a friend? what does it mean?"

"Scarlet," Da'Karro said, taking her hand suddenly, Clara smiled. "What is a friend? I mean, what makes someone a friend? what does it mean?"

Clara looked at him for a moment, musing over the question. She never really thought about it before, the true meaning of a friend. "Well, I suppose that it is someone you have something in common with...some one that you can laugh, cry, be yourself without any judgment, but honestly, friend is a relative term. It all depends on you." She said softly squeezing his hand some. "I would think that you and the Captian were friends, you've alot in common, as well as you in Mr. Casey, he's someone you can talk to, and even though, we are." She paused and smiled. " Courting, I would say we are also friends, because you allow yourself to be just that with me, without fear of rejection. but like I said, it's really up to you, and what you think friendship means. Like Queen Tenanye, she fights in a war that has nothing to do with her or her people, for someone she calls a friend, because that's how much her friendship with Queen Amelia means to her." she said and looked at him. " Why do you ask?" She said, it must have been odd to mourn someone only to find that they are still alive....She's has done it enough to know.

"Why do you ask?" Clara asked as he digested her explanation, someone he could be himself around. He thought he was relatively open with everyone, to the point of it being innappropriate. Scarlet was the only person he thought he could cry in front of, but Casey had cried in front of him. Did that make him Caseys friend? Did that mean that it went the other way and Casey was his friend? Goddess who knew friendship could be so confusing. He couldnt imagine ever seeing the Captain cry,the mere idea seemed absurd, did that mean that she didnt have any friends? But he and the Captain seemed so... Similar, shared pain and mentality, shared thoughts and feelings. Did that make them friends? Or just alike? Enemies could be alike, so perhaps that wasnt it...
"You may have just made me even more confused my love." He said with a ponderous scowl, "When we farewelled Sheva, it seemed she had so many friends there to bid her goodbye, I wonder when I die, whether any but you will be there to mourn me." He looked back at her and smiled, "Come, enough talk of death and mourning, enjoy the party, you have everyone back together agai-" Da'Karro said before stoping dead. Ice locking his spine and his stomach falling into a bottomless pit, time seemed to slow as his senses fell away bar a single sound ringing in his ears.
Laughter.
The sound brought terror and anger and harrowing memories. He knew that laughter. He had heard it before. A long time ago. A different time, a different Da'Karro, but he remembered that laughter. The laughter that had rung out as he had been tortured on a table.
Da'Karro seemed to turn in slow motion, the room fading into nothing except for the echoing of the laughter. Nothing else mattered, nothing else would matter, nothing else could.
"You..."
Down on one of the lower tables, sat a man with a sallow face and greasy hair, his angular features and hollow cackle making him like a laughing ghoul. He knew that man. He knew what he was.
Da'Karros Kukri was free of its scabbard and he was on the table and leaping for the lower table fast as a demon loosed from hell. Nothing would stop him. No one Could stop him. Not for this man. For what he had done. For what he had made Da'Karro do. He would die. He would die now.
As Da'Karro fell upon the table like a avenging angel, a blood curdling scream rose up from his lungs, filled with anguish and pain and guilt. Tainted by hatred, scorn and a life lost. It filled the hall to its breadth and width, chilling all who heard with its visceral agony.
"LOOOCKE!"

"You may have just made me even more confused my love." Da'Karro said and Clara sighed defeatedly, she really didn't know how to answer such a question but she tried. "When we farewelled Sheva, it seemed she had so many friends there to bid her goodbye, I wonder when I die, whether any but you will be there to mourn me." Clara had nothing for that, did he have any friend beyond her? She knew that they would be there, Jon, Casey, and the Captian, but would they be there for Him? and not just supporting her? She thought about the question, and didn't know how to answer that either. He looked at her and smiled, causing on to grace her lips as well. "Come, enough talk of death and mourning, enjoy the party, you have everyone back together agai-" He stopped, his expression going completely blank for a moment before scanning the room. Clara looked at him and tried to follow his gaze. She found it on one of the bannerman, a few tables down. She frowned some, out of curiosity. "Da'Karro?" She called to him, touching his arm as he glared daggers at the bannerman. "My Love, What is i-"
"You." He hissed and before she knew what happened, he was gone in a flash, his Kurki free and a horedous scream broke from his throat, that sent cold chills down her spine."LOOOCKE!"
Suddenly the monster was free again, having consumed the man, and unlike all the times before, she didn't know why and she was terrified, She stumbled back to her seat and curled up, watching in horror.

Tenanye shot to her feet, in the instant that Da'Karro's blade flew free, She reached out her hand and thin white threads, sprang from her long black nails, and hooked around Da'Karro's wrist, but it was much too late as his blade had already done what it had intended to do. Tenanye pulled the thread and whipped Da'Karro back and away from his victim, as Jon and the other's got to doing their duty. Jon was furious and his beloved cousin was struck dumb, unmoving, just covering her ears and her eyes shut tight as if she knew what was going to happen and was powerless to do anything about it.

Tenanye could see that Jon had very few options and this point, the only thing he could think to do was to have him arrested, she kept him wrapped tightly in her web like the spider she was, he wasn't about to get free.

"It is a shame I had to do that." She said as she wrapped the thread around his wrists, keeping him bound, and broke the thread as Jon and a few other men ushered Da'Karro off.

Clara looked green, as she stared at what was left of Da'Karro's latest victim, thankfully, Amelia was there, a shoulder for her to cry on, in which she used.

It was in that moment that a foreign looking man appeared with the young squire, Podrick, seemingly having missed what just happened. Tenanye, approached him. " You must be of Drake, yes?"

The man nodded, Tenanye looked back at the calming chaos.

"Take me to your King," She said and she followed the man out to meet this King of Drake. She didn't know what to expect,maybe an older man, mage like in appearance but she didn't expect the golden eyed man before her.

"King of Drake?" She asked, not quite sure if this was correct. "I am Queen Tenanye, the King of the North is presently quite busy, you'll have to forgive him, much has happened." She said with a smile and gestured to the snow covered terrace. "You wanted to discuss the future?"

"It would seem that the North is still not without its troubles," Cyrus commented dryly. Moloch raised an eyebrow at his former tutor.

"You sensed something?" the young king asked. The magi nodded.

"I sensed a surge of panic and stress nearby as well as the iron discipline of guardsmen with little formal education," Cyrus noted, receiving a glare from Eirene.

"Very funny, old man."

"I thought so."

As Moloch was about to reply, the door opened and there, before him stood a remarkable creature. He took in her appearance. She was beautiful with soft features and curves in all the right places, but it was her eyes that caught his notice. They were attentive and curious. This was someone who took in her surroundings and, though she was often awed by it, she was no fool.

"King of Drake? I am Queen Tenanye, the King of the North is presently quite busy, you'll have to forgive him, much has happened." She said with a smile and gestured to the snow covered terrace. "You wanted to discuss the future?"

Moloch nodded and followed her outside into the snow. He spoke, "You are correct. I have no desire for my people to suffer for a small miscalculation on my part."

He paused for a moment before asking, "What was the commotion my Magi sensed just now? I hope it was not serious."

"You are correct. I have no desire for my people to suffer for a small miscalculation on my part."The King of Drake said and Tenanye rose her brow. "Of that I am sure." She commented. She knew that he'd allied himself with the so-called Godking, but now, with half of the world seemingly joining forces against him, including his own son, surely he was here to switch sides, play for the winning team, and if he knew anything of Fae and their inability to lie, getting on her good side would be a good strategy, so despite how her eyes seemed glued to him, she knew she would be a fool to trust his motives. She stood beside him as the cold of the outside kissed his skin, but the warmth of his body kept her from wanting to flee to the inside.
He stopped for a quick moment. "What was the commotion my Magi sensed just now? I hope it was not serious." He asked and Tenanye smiled sadly. "An skirmish among men with an unfortunate end," She told him softly.
"You're Magic is quite gifted in sensory, I am impressed." She told him. "I can sense you are of magic as well," She said and looked around him, seemingly at his aura. "Fire? I presume, you have a warmth about you."

"An skirmish among men with an unfortunate end," She told him softly.

Moloch raised an eyebrow at that. Fae, he knew, could not lie, but her words still left room for interpretation. Who was it unforunate for? Was it unfortunate for them or simply unfortunate for the one who was on the wrong side of the altercation. In his experience, the inability to lie was not a weakness for experienced Fae.

"You're Magic is quite gifted in sensory, I am impressed."

Moloch laughed in amusement, "Do not let him hear you say that. He has a big enough ego as it is. He is quite gifted in the magical arts."

"I can sense you are of magic as well," She said and looked around him, seemingly at his aura. "Fire? I presume, you have a warmth about you."

The young king smiled and produced a small flame in his hand, "You are correct. I am gifted with manipulating this element. Every member of my family has the gift. I do not, however, possess a talent in other areas of magic. Magic is not as common among my people as yours, though we are more fortunate than some others. We are less fortunate than others, though."

He shook his head, "Demigods and mythical beasts. A dalliance of lustful gods among mortals has far-reaching consequences indeed."

"An skirmish among men with an unfortunate end," She told him softly.

Moloch raised an eyebrow at that. Fae, he knew, could not lie, but her words still left room for interpretation. Who was it unforunate for? Was it unfortunate for them or simply unfortunate for the one who was on the wrong side of the altercation. In his experience, the inability to lie was not a weakness for experienced Fae.

"You're Magic is quite gifted in sensory, I am impressed."

Moloch laughed in amusement, "Do not let him hear you say that. He has a big enough ego as it is. He is quite gifted in the magical arts."

"I can sense you are of magic as well," She said and looked around him, seemingly at his aura. "Fire? I presume, you have a warmth about you."

The young king smiled and produced a small flame in his hand, "You are correct. I am gifted with manipulating this element. Every member of my family has the gift. I do not, however, possess a talent in other areas of magic. Magic is not as common among my people as yours, though we are more fortunate than some others. We are less fortunate than others, though."

He shook his head, "Demigods and mythical beasts. A dalliance of lustful gods among mortals has far-reaching consequences indeed."

"You are correct. I am gifted with manipulating this element. Every member of my family has the gift. I do not, however, possess a talent in other areas of magic. Magic is not as common among my people as yours, though we are more fortunate than some others. We are less fortunate than others, though."

Tenanye looked at the flames in his palm, cocking her head some out of curiosity. Magic, as they called it, began in Anansai, and trickled out into this world, causing humans, who previously did not possess the oneness with the world around them, to develop certain abilities. She wondered where in his lineage did this begin.

Moloch shook his head, bringing her back to the conversation. "Demigods and mythical beasts. A dalliance of lustful gods among mortals has far-reaching consequences indeed."

"Oh?" She inquired with a frown, as they neared a tree. She noticed a small spider, crawling up the bark, looking for warmth. she pouted some, sadly, and opened her palm for the small creature and let it crawl into her hand and up into her hair for the warmth it searched for.
"Your gods are different from anything in Anansai, We know our goddess, we've seen her, We know what she wants because she has told us, with her own words. I've noticed that, in many our human cultures, the God or Goddess has never actually been seen. Faith, it is called. Anansai has no such word, because we do not need it...yet you all do, from time to time..." She said and thought back to Lord Robb and Captain Robyn. A true display of faith if there ever were one. He believed and that belief was all he needed and it proved fruitful.

"It is...perplexing." She said and smiled.

"Your gods are different from anything in Anansai, We know our goddess, we've seen her, We know what she wants because she has told us, with her own words. I've noticed that, in many our human cultures, the God or Goddess has never actually been seen. Faith, it is called. Anansai has no such word, because we do not need it...yet you all do, from time to time..."

"Your goddess is strange in my eyes," Moloch replied with a shrug, "Our gods are aloof. They appear only when they choose to. To walk among one's worshipers like your goddess.... It is unseemly. It would be like myself living in the slums of my city."

"It's not so bad, Majesty. Rat is a surprisingly versatile dish," Cyrus noted. Eirene glared at him.

"You did not grow up poor."

"No, but I had to hide among the poor a few times in my long life."

"It is a wonder they could stand you."

"Magic pays for itself over time. It is versatile. Much more than a spear."

"Your goddess is strange in my eyes," He mused, with a shrug. "Our gods are aloof. They appear only when they choose to. To walk among one's worshipers like your goddess.... It is unseemly. It would be like myself living in the slums of my city."

To this, Tenanye frowned. She did not hold herself in higher regard then her own people, if they suffered, then so she did.

She missed most of the conversation. "Why do you have a place within your city, to which you yourself, dare not live?" She asked rhetorically, with a small frown. "I couldn't imagine a place with which I would place the poorest of my people to live if I wouldn't live there myself." She said shaking her head. "It seems...selfish." She said looking at him skeptically and then wondered, what his intentions were, truly. "Why did you wish to seek audience with me, King Moloch?" She asked him, stopping her forward motion. "What is it that you want?"

Roth was watching the man be cut into by Jeddah man's blade. It was an interesting sight, but rude, even if it was a Khalidoran feast. Just then a vanguard whispered in his ear that Moloch had entered the caste. As not to appear rude himself, Roth continued to eat his meal until he was finished. Then he departed to meet with his father's apparent ally.

The prince arrived to the room that Moloch was in only to catch the last bit of conversation between Tenanye and the Drake King. Religion and economics? Two races who treat magic completely differently would also have completely different views on the subject. He decided to enter.

"Of course my Goddess is quite different from either of yours, as well as my country's economic stance." Roth said as he entered the room with two of his vanguard behind him. He gave a nod towards Moloch. "I assume that you're here to discuss terms of an alliance with me and a trade agreement with Tenanye, am I right?" He asked the Drake King. It wouldn't be for any military pursuit that was for sure. Drake was too weak, too far away, and for all intents and purposes, too poor for such an endeavor. On the other hand no fae army could be an organized human force due to their weakness to iron, the staple of human weaponry. The only option left was the obvious one. Moloch must want Anansai's many exotic trade goods, that or something magic.

Tenanye had been watching Moloch closely when the young Prince arrived, her eyes cutting slowly in his direction. She wasn't sure how she felt about the young lad, he was older in mind and spirit then he was in body, yet she still had a hard time viewing him as anything but a child playing at being a man, even if it wasn't of his own volition.

"Of course my Goddess is quite different from either of yours, as well as my country's economic stance."

"No truer words, Young Prince." She stated with a nod. "I assume that you're here to discuss terms of an alliance with me and a trade agreement with Tenanye, am I right?" He said looking toward Moloch, with a inquisitive eye. "Is he?" She asked him, with a hand to her hip.

(Sorry so short!)

(Sorry for the long wait. I thought I replied! LOL).

Moloch raised an eyebrow, somewhat baffled by her words. They were innocent, particularly in the mouth of a powerful magical being and ruler. He shook his head.

"We humans are different. We have greater numbers and different customs. I could not live among the poor even if I wanted to. To do so would invite assassination or a coup."

He paused for a moment, listening to the two get to the point. He nodded.

"Good. I am always ready to get to the point. Drake has much to offer to your two kingdoms in terms of trade and military might. Do not let our small size fool you. Our armies are elite and the weapons we've developed equal that of Wanhope's designs. The sword and shield does not quite do it anymore, yes?"

Of course, he neglected to mention he and Wanhope had helped develop the arquebus together. It would be common knowledge soon enough.

Roth glanced at Tenanye worriedly. There were rumors from the resistance in the east that his father were leading soldiers with a new, terrifying weapon. One that could pierce armor like it was cloth and spit fire. He didn't want to believe it, but perhaps what the Drake king said was true. Then his father might have an edge over them, at least until reinforcements came from Khalidor.

"What weapons are these that you speak of? How do you make them? By magic or slave labor?" He asked Moloch. Those were always the two best ways to make weapons quickly and since Roth was against slavery, that meant that magic would prove more useful, that or cheap labor. After he becomes Godking, Roth intended to pressure Fuaria and Drake City into abolishing slavery whether it was through economic might or invasion.

"What weapons are these that you speak of? How do you make them? By magic or slave labor?"

Moloch laughed slightly, "Do you think that we would use slaves to produce weapons? That more than anything opens up the possibility of a slave rebellion. No, these weapons are produced by freemen under the supervision of expert artisians and magi. We are, of course, moving towards emancipation provided our military and economic position is stable."

He paused for a moment before continuing, "We do have a few samples with us, Roth. A demonstration may be useful."