Esme's Story

The dust was beginning to settle. And Esme pinched her nose to stop from sneezing and making a sound. Yet the sound of hoofs beating the ground still echoed and she wasn't sure if it was her ears ringing or whether the horses were still galloping. In all her travels she couldn't remember a time where she had seen so many horses or men together. An army surely.

Banners and sigils fluttered in the breeze. Bright and eye catching. Esme watched, hidden below the rise of the hill. Trying to hold onto the squirming bundle in her hand. KiKi wanted to greet the strangers but Esme was not sure if she would recieve a warm greeting in return. It wouldn't be the first time, the Ferret was called a rodent and soon found herself dodging daggers and swords. It didn't help the creature had a pension for taking things and hiding them.

"KiKi! Stop!" She tried to shush the creature. "You're going to get us caught! I swear, if you get away, I won't come and save you!" She lied to the animal, looking back up at the endless row of fine equine.

They all appeared to be heading to King's Landing, as was Esme. She had run into a Kumpania who had mentioned a Kumpania very close to the description of her own in King's Landing. She had never before in almost ten years heard anything about her clan since she had been separated from there. The Gypsy tried not to raise her hopes. They were travelers and most likely gone. But maybe she'd be able to get more information about where they were heading. Esme could only hope.

She frowned up at the army. They were halting her progress to the city and thus to reaching her Kumpania. The Gypsy girl was not naive enough to reveal herself to army. She had come across Gadjo many a time. They did not hold the same respect of women that Gypsy men did; for all that the Gypsy's were called animals. They were much more civilized than Gadjo's.

KiKi continued to squirm and Esme was finding it harder to hold onto her. She only wished they would move on soon, so she could be on her way to the city too.

The column made short work of what remained of the King's Road. They trotted along at a brisk, yet casual pace. As they went along they found it full of new arrivals to the city, no doubt due to the King's mysterious tourney to which none knew the cause nor reason for such extravagance. Mummers from as far as the Mediterranean and Philippines, jugglers and acrobats from Pentos, ravishingly seductively courtesans from Lysene could be found traveling to King's landing on the same road as the party from Storm's End. Skilled duelists from Braavos sauntered along, and beautiful dancers from Anansai in their flowing silks made their way to the city of Kings. Masterful craftsmen from Myr hauling their foreign wonders and exceedingly wealthy nobles from Volantis in their garrish silks traveled side by side which was a wonder in an of itself.

Many had heeded the call of the King of the South Pacific either for gold or glory or duty, they came from far and wide yet also they came from nearby. As Orys rode beside his father he saw the golden lion of Lannister emblazoned on the banners of knights riding into the city, shoving pilgrims out of the way as they made their approach. The grey direwolf of House Stark was a welcomed sight as it's knights rode into the city as well, obviously suffering in the heat in comparison to their frozen south. Orys had found it quite cool this morning. The wondrous and beautiful knights of the rose rode in as well from High Garden. Orys recognized many faces from the tourney fields he'd previously competed in or from battles he was a participant of. There were even a few familiar faces he had marched with in the North Pacific on the other side of the world.

As the column made it's approach they passed a group of fresh arrivals and in the crowd Orys caught sight of a beautiful woman dressed in silks with deep black hair and a foreign allure.

"Eyes front son, that ones a gypsy. Thieves the lot of them."

Stannis grunted harshly. Orys gave his father a perturbed glance but after casting one last look at the foreign beauty he did as his Lord father bid and set his sights ahead of him. Passing through Old Gate the Baratheon party traversed Chataya's way and crossed Rickard's Row. They rode down the Street of Steel with it's endless smithies and crossed Cobbler's Square. After rounding the Great Sept of Baelor they arrived at the Red Keep and seat of the King. It was here Lord Stannis and Ser Orys along with Ser Davos and his son Mathos dismounted to be received by the King.

Their mounts were quickly collected and led to the stables to be brushed and fed while the Lord of Storm's End and his heir marched up the stairs and crossed through the long marble halls to reach the throne room. If the King's Road was congested and the city was busy the keep was a veritable bee hive of commotion. Servants raced here and there with casks of fine wines and ales, food for the feasts on the morrow with everything from boar and venison to every sort of foul one could imagine. Great barrels of glacial ice for the cooling of drinks and sweets were carted about as squires carried arm loads of arms and armor for their respective lords.

Yet as they neared the throne room Orys smirked while Stannis grimaced. They could hear him, hear him already. His booming voice, the impatient roaring of the Kings voice could resound off the walls and travel for what seemed like miles. It wasn't until they were nearly outside the main doors to the throne room could they make out what was being said.

"...Seven Hells! Where is he?! He should be here by now!"

Stannis gave his son a knowing look and gestured for the door.

"He's waiting for you."

Orys gave his father a nod and a smile before putting a hand on the door and pushing the heavy wood braced with iron. Lord Stannis fell in line beside him quickly as Ser Davos and Mathos fell back several paces and proceeded after their lords. The Throne room of the King was a grand room indeed. Towering pillars of the finest marble, etched with prancing stags supported the room and granted it depth while exquisitely intricate tapestries depicting great battles or scenes of grand hunts gave it texture. Stained glass forged around a Seven Pointed Star in honor of the Faith of the Seven, the chosen faith of the monarchy, gave the room an almost magical lighting as the sun streamed through. Yet whenever anyone entered the throne room all eyes always fell upon the Iron Throne. That massive, metal marvel forged from the swords of all the conquered kings that had bent the knee to Axel the Conqueror centuries ago and now served as the seat for the ruler of the South Pacific. Equal parts terrifying as it was beautiful, it was a wonder to behold. Every time Orys laid eyes upon it he could not help but wonder about all the great kings that shared his blood who have sat upon it all the way from Axel on down to uncle Robert. Forged to be uncomfortable and even dangerous as Axel Baratheon felt no king should sit easy, it was the perfect seat for a king.

"There he is! Orys my boy!"

Came the booming, welcoming voice of his uncle King Robert of the house Baratheon first of his name, as he rose to his feet at the arrival of his nephew. The king with his golden crown of forged antlers was not a small man in the least. Gone was the chiseled and muscled frame of his youth as it was now covered in a thick layer of fat from years of drinking and feasting. Robert's beard had gone rather unruly as of late and streaks of grey dotted his black hair and beard showing signs of his encroaching age. Yet the fire in his bright blue eyes burned as ever, especially at the sight of his nephew.

"God's you've grown since last I've seen you! Shadow of Axel indeed!"

He boasted proudly. By now Orys and Stannis had reached the landing before the steps leading up to the throne and both bent the knee to their king in respect as they spoke in unison, the father and son.

"Your Grace."

Elsa had found herself wandering through the bustling crowds around King’s Landing, despite her every instinct telling her to run the other way.
Firstly, she knew that staying too close to where she had just done a job was incredibly risky as she may be spotted, betrayed or just generally caught. Second, her attire and weapons meant that hanging around large crowds left her more open to suspicion; cloaks worked well in dark corners and shadowy streets but in crowds it made you a walking target. And third, if she stayed here then there was always the chance that somebody could recognise her from three years ago which would just cause more awkwardness than anything else.
There was no reason to be here at all.
And yet…
“Fresh fruit my dear?”
She turned suddenly at the sound, seeing an old lady holding a basket and smiling obliviously. Sighing, Elsa took out a few coins and handed them to the old woman before taking the opportunity to ask “There’s a lot of excitement today. Is there an event?”
“Oh the king’s had a big summoning today! All nights and noblemen from all over! I even hear there’s some foreign queen come as well, supposed to be the most beauty-”
“Is that all the noble families being summoned?”
“I wouldn’t know that dearie; I’m just here to sell my fruit.” She muttered, grinning toothlessly before ambling off through the others.
Elsa sighed, the fruit in her hand as she began to walk again.
She’d been taking more chances with questions and eavesdropping but hadn’t heard anything of the Dartheon family. Granted this was the first time in three years she’d come home but there wasn’t so much of an indication as to what they were doing. Considering that arrogant toad loved his charity work to make himself look better, this surprised her greatly. Maybe they’d moved away? Maybe they’d fallen out of favour? Maybe they were still searching for her?
Elsa couldn’t and didn’t want to even consider the possibilities. She’d left the South Pacific Kingdom for a reason and it was stupid to be back here now, she had to finish up here and move on as quickly as poss-
“Umph!” She grunted as she walked headlong into a dark-skinned woman. Elsa shook her head slightly as she stood up properly to mutter out-loud, “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention where I was going.”
At the rate her head was going, it was a wonder she hadn't been arrested already.