Clara Snow's Story

Moloch allowed Aada to speak, pondering her story for a few moments. The themes of the story were familiar and Moloch admitted as much as he spoke, saying, "No. I enjoyed the tale. Drake has two war gods as well: Bellona, goddess of war and strategy, and Styx, god of war and brutality. I'd admit that neither of them are as sympathetic as the twin chieftains, however. Bellona values rationality and peace, but if slighted, she will not cease seeking to avenge herself until she is satisfied, even if it takes centuries and your yourself are long dead. Styx is almost preferable. He has no subtlety and if he is somehow stopped, you are home free."

He paused for a moment, as if in deep thought.

"Our gods are all too human, I think, but they care. They are passionate, like us. We do whatever it takes to protect what we love through peace or war."

As he was about to speak more, Kallias chose that moment to appear, his face already ensconced in gold and blue. Moloch could recognize the runes inscribed upon it. As always, Kallias honored Lila, the goddess of love.

"Moloch, the masquerade is starting. I got your mask here," he said excitedly, offering him his mask. Fittingly, it was a crimson and gold one shaped like that of a dragon. Moloch smirked.

"Cyrus designed it, didn't he?"

"He thought you'd like it."



Well, Robyn was never one to lend you a shoulder to cry on, Tytos thought wryly as he nursed his drink. He had found a few suitable lads on the way to the tavern. Soon enough, he saw Robyn leading a new lad out the tavern, presumably to put him through his paces. Interesting... He seemed familiar, but he couldn't quite place his face.

"Did we ever sail with him before? No, Robyn wouldn't be testing him then. Perhaps he was in Valyria at one point? I will have to keep an eye on him. It's better to observe and say nothing than look like the fool."

He took a nother swig of his drink. He missed fine wines, but the piss they served at this place numbed the senses just as well. He pondered on what he would do when they attacked the summit. He was hungry for information and as chaotic as a pirate raid was, there was still opportunity to gather information. Perhaps Robyn would be amenable to taking hostages?

Regardless, he had nothing to do but sit, drink, and think. He was remarkably good at all three of those things. He watched a woman storm off. She had been talking to the new lad, hadn't see? That was Max, he noted thoughtfully. Now, how did she know him?

He raised his drink as she passed, not caring if she saw him or not. If she spoke to him, he might be able to ask her a few questions about their new recruit. If she didn't, then he was content to drink in solitude.

Max had started her work, delivering drinks, the tavern was rather quiet, most of the men had drunk themselves unconscious.

She rolled her eyes with a huff. She hated that but such was the job. She went up and down the aisles, urging them to awake and if they didn't she'd splash water in their faces. That got them up, and ornery but one look from her, and they turned tail, under the gist that she wasn't a bother. She knew she didn't scare anyone, but that wasn't going to stop her.

She stopped feeling fear a long time ago. There was no point in it, it would only get her killed. It had gotten them both in this mess in the first place. She was afraid, and couldn't fight. She could still hear the sound of Robb's nose breaking.

She shook away the thought, just as she saw a glass being raised as she passed.


Tyros, if memory served, the dwarf of the Harbinger crew. She grabbed a pitcher of ale and walked over to him. She prepared to fill his cup, but she saw that it was still full. She frowned. "What? I'm not a whore, I don't have a price, and I'm not going to fuck you, so what do you want?"

She asked with a huff, as if she had repeated this more times then she'd care to admit. It was almost like a line in a song, to the point, she didn't have to even think about it.

"What? I'm not a whore, I don't have a price, and I'm not going to fuck you, so what do you want?"

Tytos raised a small hand, as if to grasp his heart. He grinned at her in mock hurt, "You wound me, madame, to think so lowly of me. I merely noticed an altercation you had with a soon-to-be member of my captain's crew. That is, if he passes her interview. Luckily, she seems to like strong, fierce men such as he if I am any judge of her behavior."

He took a swig of his drink, watching her reaction to his words. Any reaction to suggested romantic or lust-filled interest could give him some idea about her relationship with the man and, truthfully, he was bored. He did not feel like paying whores to be interested in him tonight so he had nothing but his mind and cheap liquor to pass the time.

"You are Max, are you not? I've seen you with our lovely Queen of Thieves. I hope she treats you well."

"You wound me, madame, to think so lowly of me. I merely noticed an altercation you had with a soon-to-be member of my captain's crew. That is, if he passes her interview. Luckily, she seems to like strong, fierce men such as he if I am any judge of her behavior." He said and Clara frowned. She knew what the Captain was known for doing with men, most of the time, it ended with them dead in the bed she took them in, the halfman didn't nothing but remind her of that.

She didn't respond, she just rolled her eyes.

"You are Max, are you not? I've seen you with our lovely Queen of Thieves. I hope she treats you well." He said and she looked at him. Eleanor never shown her any affection in public, but clearly there were rumors. She wouldn't give him the indication one way or another. "You've not seen me with anyone," She said. It's not like the two took long romantic walks, no, they're relationship was strictly behind closed doors.

She rolled her eyes again, looking away from the halfman.

"Clearly there is something you want to know, so ask, so I can get back to work, Halfman..." She said, with a deep impatient sigh.

A frown, a look, those were enough to put a few pieces into place within Tytos' mind. She had some concern about his soon-to-be crewmate. Whether it was out of jealousy or concern for his well-being, he could not tell, though he did get a reaction from her when he spoke of Eleanor. Perhaps the rumors were true? He filed those suspicions away for future use. It was not a confirmation, but it did indicate a bond of some sort, professional or personal. Slowly, he raised his drink to his lips.

"What do I want? There is a lot that I want, but there is only one thing you could provide me: information on the man that has caught Captain Robyn's attention at the moment. Who is he? Should I be concerned about him? If things take a turn for the worse, do I have a reason to risk my neck for his? Should I be afraid he will stab me in my sleep over an apple?"

He grinned at her.

"I take a keen interest in those I travel with."

"What do I want? There is a lot that I want, but there is only one thing you could provide me: information on the man that has caught Captain Robyn's attention at the moment. Who is he? Should I be concerned about him? If things take a turn for the worse, do I have a reason to risk my neck for his? Should I be afraid he will stab me in my sleep over an apple?"

Max smirked.

"I take a keen interest in those I travel with."

She looked down at the halfman, remembering when she told a boy that had attempted to accost her back in Winterfell, how her brother turned into a wolf at night and would tear out his throat if he touched her. It scared him off good. Robb hadn't gotten a good laugh out of that.

"He is Flint, the man without fear, yes, you should be concerned, a reason, you won't need one, and yes, yes you should....I've heard, he liked tear men throats out....with his teeth, that's why his beard is red, they say, it was yellow once, but now it's stained with blood." She said, proudly. The more men that feared him the least they'd try to hurt him or get to know him. "I've also heard, that at night, he turns into a direwolf.....large and grey." She said, with a smirk, " But only on a full moon." She said , and then thought ."There should be one coming soon....I'd be careful if I were you......You're bite size." She said and then sauntered off.

She worried about this halfman, he was much more clever than she would have liked to admit, so he probably wouldn't believe her stories, but there were other men around and they most certainly would.

"Is it true, Max." called a man, after taking her arm. "About that Flint? They call him the Man without Fear...."

"Very true....He's working the Crimson Lady....the vampire and the wolf....I feel sorry for whoever angers them....I don't know which is worse, being drained all blood, or choking on it. "She said, and he pulled away. "Who do you know."

Max grinned cheekily, implying much more than she honestly would have felt comfortable with. No one knew she was his sister, and that had to stay that way. They way they were arguing, it could have been a lover's dispute. The men of Nassau were superstitious men, having seen the world for the terrible beauty that it really was. Mermaids, and Sirens, Kraken and Giant Man eating Squids, the believed it all. She knew the Crimson Lady wasn't a vampire, or at least, she didn't need to consume blood, just wanted to....which was worse.

Her brother, having already made a name for himself, she was just adding to it. By the time he'd return, she was sure the whole island would learn of it. She couldn't wait to see the look on his face.

Tytos couldn't help but smile. Now, this evening was becoming more and more entertaining. Direwolves huh? He hadn't seen any of those beasts in the tiny islands that made up Nassau. In fact, the only countries he knew of that were home to creatures such as those outside of a traveling circus were Khalidor and the North, though only Northmen tended to have that strange fascination with them, culminating in the Starks taking a direwolf as their sigil. He wondered...

"Well, Flint. What would you do if we crossed swords with men from the North."

He finished his drink before swaddling off. He felt up to a visit to a whorehouse after all.

Once it was all said and done, Robyn pushed him from her body, she slide down her shirt, buttoned her corset, slipped into her trousers and her boots. She said nothing to him. He was good, she'll give him that, but she wasn't one to cuddle, or kissed even. She'd made that mistake already.

"I need a drink." She said, scooping up her coat and belt that held her cutlass and flintlock. She ran her fingers through her dark hair and spun her coat over her head before sliding her arms through the sleeves. It was at that moment, she felt hands around her hips, pulling her to him with a firm grip. She looked at him, her eyes dangerous, but not playful as they had been. She liked him, sure, but she didn't like being touched, unless she said so.

He spoke a few cheeky words, and she smirked at them, but it faded when he leaned in for a kiss. She turned her head, and again, put her hand over his mouth. "You only won me once, you'll have me once." She said, and walked into the tavern.

She was used to the eyes, good and bad, hungry and fearful but what she wasn't used to was the eyes weren't trained on her but at the man behind her,

Max was up to her tricks again. When a year ago, after the failed attempt to capture the Urca, Robyn had slowly began to loose her fearsome reputation, men had try to seize her a few times and while she made short work of them, she didn't understand. It was Max who thought to spread tales, stories that bred fear to this superstitious lot. she'd heard the stories that Robyn'd been a vampire, she'd began to spread a few of her own. She was good at it, but that wasn't all. Barmaids always had their ears to the ground and Max was no exception. What Eleanor didn't know was that Max was not only a barmaid, or a rumor mill.

She was an information broker, and for the right price, she'd tell you anything you'd want to know. Robyn had only just found this out. The girl was good, she kept her secrets will.

Robyn tossed a look back at Flint. She'd spread rumors for him, by the way they stared, or not as it were. Robyn had to pay for such a thing. Perhaps he really was her brother, though they looked nothing alike. He was a fiery ginger, where she had sultry midnight curls, Her skin was warm, where his was cold. Her eyes were a liquid amber and his an icy blue.

If it weren't for the way he kissed her forehead, and the way she'd looked up at him with disappointment but admiration in her eyes, she wouldn't have pegged them for siblings, lovers....maybe.

"Max!" she called, her voice loud over the hushed whispers. Max had come from the back, a pitcher of rum in her hand.

She looked up, her eyes going instantly to Flint, then back again. She walked up, only to get slapped on the ass, She didn't flinch, she only grabbed a cup, and splashed the contents on the assailant's face. Robyn chuckled. He needed to be glad that was all she had at the time.

Flint didn't seem pleased with that at all. "Easy, I've seen that girl stab a man in the hand for less, she can handle it." She said, not bothering to tell him about what the repercussion of that was. Max being cornered in an alley and nearly raped. Luckily, Eleanor had men looking out for her and back then Max was a little easier to like.

Max walked up to them as if that hadn't happened, "You're back." She said, more to Flint then to her. "Yes, I need rum."

"So How did he fair?." She said, and Robyn shrugged as Max gestured to an empty table. "Meet, Flint of the Harbinger." Robyn said and Max smiled, it was small, but there was glimmer of what looked like hope in her eyes. What was with these two?

As she went to get Robyn's favorite bottle and mugs for the two of them. Robyn looked at Flint.

"See those looks, everyone looking at you much differently then they did before...Max did that....The things that tumble from those lips can make or break a man, on this island. Most think it's Eleanor, she has the money, but Max, she controls reputation, people like to talk to her, she has that way." She said, watching the girl as she navigating the aisle, carefully, thoughtfully. Like she did with life on the island. "They come in with coin in their pockets and secrets and they always leave with less of both. I wouldn't suggest getting on her bad side." She said as Max came back over. "Flint when you're done...." She said but didn't finished and Robyn smirked. She didn't know what it was but she liked this kid.

The scratches on his back stung but not in a way Flint was displeased with. He rolled his shoulders while he lay in the bed, Captain Sheva beside him. No sooner did he turn to her did she get out of bed and begin dressing herself. He enjoyed the view, as she pulled on her trousers and shirt, tied her corset around her waist and pulled on her boots. The first thing his gaze lingered on was her figure, curvy and sultry she captivated his mind as much as his body yet as she turned he noticed the scars. Her back was littered with them. Surely some were of her escapaed aboard The Harbinger but some had a different look to them, older and with the look of lashings.

He sat up and got to his feet as she slid her coat on. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her to him.

"I can't tell who won that, settle the matter?"

He leaned in and she turned away, her hand to his lips.

"You only won me once, you'll have me once."

She said leaving him wanting. He dressed and followed after her, his cutlass hanging from the belt over his shoulder as his boots rung off the old wooden stairs. He could feel the tavern staring at him, he could smell fear and apprehension in the air. His gaze rose, steely and cold as a winter wind. No man dared meet his gaze. He understood fear, he'd seen it a lot. Yet what he was accustomed to was differrent. As the savage, roaming the beaches were he to come upon others the looks were as if some rabid beast walked into their home and they knew not what to expect. Now their eyes showed knowing and terror.

Sheva called over his sister and as she made her way toward him a man reached out, his hand slapping her ass. Flint felt the growl in his throat as he stepped forward, hand clenched into a tight fist.

"Easy, I've seen that girl stab a man in the hand for less, she can handle it."

As if in response Max dumped the contents of the flagon she had in her hand on the mans head, much to the amusement of his fellows. Flint gaze never wavered from his prey, he made a note of the man, of his look. His short cropped squirell brown hair, his green eyes and buck teeth, the tiny scar under his left eye.

His sister approached, a hopeful smile on her face.

"You're back."

She said, her eyes on him yet addressing the two of them.

"Yes, I need rum."

"Aye, as do I."

He grunted, seconding her declaration.

"So How did he fair?"

His sister asked as she brought he and The Captain to an empty table for drinks and hoepfully something to eat, he was starving after all the excerise.

"Meet, Flint of the Harbinger."

Robyn said and she smiled. His sister gave him the most subtle of smiles, softer than a gulls feather falling on the deck of a ship. She was proud of him and for that moment he knew, things were going to be better. She left to get those drinks, ling the pirates alone.

"See those looks, everyone looking at you much differently then they did before...Max did that....The things that tumble from those lips can make or break a man, on this island. Most think it's Eleanor, she has the money, but Max, she controls reputation, people like to talk to her, she has that way. They come in with coin in their pockets and secrets and they always leave with less of both. I wouldn't suggest getting on her bad side." Flint watcher her manuever through the tavern with ease, many of the men she passed greeted her with respect. She may have been proud of him for earning his way aboard The harbinger but it was he who was supremely more proud. Proud of the little sister who used to follow around Jon like a lost puppy, now had hardened killers, smugglers and criminals paying her resepct.

"Flint when you're done...."

Max said as she set the drinks before he and Robyn. He nodded softly, bringing the metal tankard to his lips and enjoynig the strong brew.

"Captain."

He said getting to his feet, his flagon in hand.

"If you have nothing for me just yet, my sister and I have some catching up to do."

Robyn waved Flint off and Max took his hand, and lead up him up toward her chambers. The men all watched, just as she wanted. She wasn't tugging him along like she would have her big brother. She pulled him in a secretive sort of way, that most would assume they were lovers. She needed them to think they were only lovers, not siblings. They would use that against him and she refused to be used against him again. She could still feel the bit of the blade that was used to hold her still while they beat him.

She swallowed the memory as she approached her door and pushed it open, letting his hand go in the process. She allow him to walk in and she closed the door behind him and locked it. Just in case.

Suddenly, without warning, as he turned to her, Clara tossed herself around him, her breathing hard and tears pressuring her eyes. She'd been holding it in, all day she felt. Pretending that her mind wasn't reeling from the fact that she hadn't lost him at all. Perhaps parts of him, but not all. He was still her brother, and he yet lived.

"Let me look at you." She said, pulling away, her amber eyes glossed with unfallen tears, though looking at his new face, made them being to trickle down her cheeks. She placed her hands on either side of his face, studying him, remembering him. Two Years wasn't along time, but it felt like an eternity, and she could see it on his face. He hadn't lost his Northern accent, even though she made it appoint to do so and she was glad for it. She was glad he still sounded the same.

"Two Years..." She said, her voice soft as she dropped her hands. "Two Years, I'd been looking, hoping, praying, that you were still out there somewhere, and when I finally start to let you go....You pull me into your lap....Just like that...My once dead brother mistakes me for common whore..." She said and chuckled, shaking her head. " I should be offended, I've stabbed a man for that very thing once..." She said, and touched his cheek, with a smile and a sniff. "I'm just glad you're alive." She said, her lip quivering as she slipped her arms around him again.

For the first time in two years Robb Stark looked upon his sister. She told him how she'd looked for him, told him how she'd prayed for him and he broke her gaze. He couldn't look at her, James Flint was strong but Robb Stark was a boy and a weak one at that. He stepped past her, his hand scratching at the stubble on his jaw before toying with the ginger goatee on his chin. It was so strange to him, to be called Robb Stark again. To think of himself as a man he thought long past dead. A man who'd failed his family, whose weakness caused their deaths and had been reborn once a monster and now a man. The question he was facing now was who was that man. Was he Flint, the pirate, Robb the prince, or was he someone else entirely.

"I never looked for you."

Robb said suddenly, his voice husky with emotion. He turned slowly and met the amber eyes of the sister he'd lost.

"Not once... Because I knew... I knew you were dead. I saw it... with my own eyes as you fell into the sea."

He shook his head in shame as his icy blue eyes began to become slick with wetness.

"I never prayed for you... Not once. Because if there are gods out there, if they exist at all... I absolutely hate the fuckers."

He clenched his jaw as latent rage and grief gripped him like some unseen malicious hand strangling him.

"I hate them Clara... cause they took you away from me."

The first tear fell but it wasn't alone long as more followed. Robb broke down as if the loss of his family finally it him, after two years and it tore him apart.

"They took you, and mother, and father! They took Bran and Rickon, they took Sansa, they took Arya, they took Jon!...."

Robb clenched his fist, shaking with fury, he turned with one hand and flipped the desk at his side, smashing the contents on the ground as they fell. He stood there, breathing heavily, his body shaking. The air in the room was tense for several long moments before he sighed weakly.

"I'm sorry Clara..."

His voice had softened considerably, the rage was gone and only sorrow remained.

"I don't know what I have left... I don't know who I am anymore..."

"I never looked for you."
Clara froze as Robb turned to her, his voice as thick as it was that day.

"What?" Her heart pounding now, she must have misheard him.

"Not once... Because I knew... I knew you were dead. I saw it... with my own eyes as you fell into the sea."
The siblings both shook their head, one for his shame the other for her disbelief. He never looked for her. That hurt, she hated to admit it but it did. She beat the beach for weeks, with and without Eleanor's men. She would sit on the shore, watching the water hoping he'd wash ashore. Why didn't he look for her? She watched as tears worked into his eyes.

"I never prayed for you... Not once. Because if there are gods out there, if they exist at all... I absolutely hate the fuckers." He said and Clara felt her own tears. "Robb...." She said, as his tears fell then. She wanted to move to him, hold on to him but she couldn't move, she'd been here, just where he was, where nothing seemed real.

"I hate them Clara... cause they took you away from me." He said and she closed her mouth. She wanted to tell him he was wrong, but he wasn't. She wasn't Clara Snow, not anymore, at least not entirely. They did take her, and they took him from her too.

"They took you, and mother, and father! They took Bran and Rickon, they took Sansa, they took Arya, they took Jon!...." He then turned, for all his rage, and took it out of her furniture. Her writing desk, upturned, her inkwell slipped onto the floor, seeping into the carpet. She didn't flinch, she wasn't afraid. Not really scared her anymore. She looked over at the desk, remembering there was something in the contents. In the bottom drawer was parchment, she'd dipped her quail pen into the inkwell that was her heart and scrawled it upon the pages. She wouldn't show him, not now, he was much too raw, maybe not ever. She never expected him to read them, but she wrote to him, nearly every day, in memory.
"I'm sorry Clara..."

He said and she looked back at him, his storm calmed for the time being.

"I don't know what I have left... I don't know who I am anymore..." He said and she walked up to him, taking his face in either hands and lowered his forehead to her lips.

She dropped her hands and looked at him. " When I was small, I was so sick, all the time." She said, her lips dry from emotion. "I was never able to leave my chambers. my bed even. Breathing hurt." She said, she could still feel the pain in her chest. "My earliest memory was a red haired boy, sneaking into my chamber, when he thought I was asleep, he wasn't allowed to see me, his mother didn't like me much, and thought my illness was catching, but he came anyway." She said, and her smile was sad as the memory played in his mind as clear as hers.

"I remember thinking his hair looked like the sunset that I could see outside of my window." She chuckled then, through her tears.

"He would in come for a moments at a time, and I would pretend to be asleep. He would sneak over to me, and place his finger under my nose to see if I still drew breath and then leave." She said and looked at him.

"To this day, I do not know why he knew to do that but he'd always come in, so much so that one night, I decided, I wouldn't pretend anymore. I would see him. Speak to him." She said,

"I asked him who he was, and he told me...." She said and smiled up at him, reaching up and touching his face, her thumb brushing his fiery beard. Her amber eyes finding his icy blue ones, both glossed with tears.

"So I'll tell you now, what he told me...You are my brother." She told him. "Do you hear me, You are my brother, Robb, Flint, no matter your name....Our brother told me that," She said, still unable to speak Jon's name. She took his head into her hands again, "Snow or Stark, Robb or Flint, You are my brother, and I am your sister, that's all that matters, That is who you are, and I am what you have." She told him. "Even if you don't come into my chambers, whilst I sleep to see if I yet breath...but you might...you always did"