Chapter 11: King's Landing
'The arrival of the Ruby Order at King's landing has not been documented as extensively as one would expect. Or, to be more precise, not quite as precisely. For at the time of their arrival, few of the residents of King's Landing had heard about them, and those who had, and had not dismissed the - for the ignorant certainly unbelievable - tales as some jest or misunderstanding - were not the sort to make their records public (with the notable exception of the Grand Maester of the time, albeit as was pointed out by many other scholars, his testimony cannot be considered unbiased to begin with given his allegiances, and was most certainly written at a later date, and with information he acquired after the fact. However, we can be certain, thanks to the surviving records and the diligent work of the order and the royal archivists throughout the centuries, that the Ruby Order was not impressed by the state of the capital of Westeros. Nothing demonstrates that better than the fact that amongst the writings left by the members of the Ruby Order, no less than two are proposals to add a sophisticated sewage system to the city, although, perhaps unfortunately, given the epidemic a century later, neither proposal was detailed enough to be adapted even if the funding would have been available. However, one has to note that the text was detailed enough to draw quite a few conclusions. First, that the Ruby Order's homeland had extensive sewage systems and had had them for so long that the Ruby Order was appalled that King's landing lacked them. Second, that the Ruby Order, for all the brilliance their treatises show, were not experts in architectural matters. Third, that, even within those limits, what details they had noted were very similar to the actual solutions architects came up with when the first sewage system was finally implemented in the capital. And, fourth, that the general lack of hygiene was seen as very offensive by all members of the Order, supporting the theory that cleanliness was a main virtue of their homeland's religion.'
A Treatise On The Ruby Order, by Maester Kennet Bracken
*****
The Red Keep, King's Landing, Crownlands, Westeros, 298 AC
Ser Aron Santagar had come out to the courtyard to welcome the King, as had seemingly half the Red Keep's staff. He scoffed. As master-at-arms, he had to be there, ready to inform the King of the state of his keep - at least the part of it that Aron oversaw - but most of those gathered here were just putting in an appearance to curry favour.
Or they were driven by their curiosity. It was no secret why the King had travelled to the North; he was making Lord Stark his Hand. Unlike other Lord Paramounts, the Warden of the North had not visited the court before - had not visited King's Landing, actually, since the end of the Rebellion - and so people were eager to take the measure of the noble who would be the second-most-powerful man at court.
At least officially; Aron had been master-at-arms for many years and was aware that rank and position alone did not define someone's power, especially not in King's Landing with its constant plotting. Lord Stark would have to navigate those waters carefully to build his own power, though being the King's best friend since childhood would undoubtedly facilitate matters - Aron did not think anyone would risk earning the King's ire by attacking his friend even if said friend wasn't also the Hand of the King, speaking for and with the voice of the King, with only the King himself able to countermand him.
But how would Lord Stark wield that influence? He had a reputation as a most honourable man, but Aron knew how often reputations fell short of the real man - or were the result of others deliberately spreading lies, whether to prop up or tear down someone.
Well, Aron would find out in the coming months. Unlike some of the people gathered here, he had no reason to fear. He did his duty diligently and did not attempt to reach beyond his station - or meddle in the plots of the courtiers. And, at least as far as he knew, he had not made any enemy who was in a position to go after him.
He noticed that some pages had stepped in front of him and cleared his throat, shooing them back. It wouldn't do if the first thing the King saw when returning were a gaggle of children running underfoot.
"Here they come!"
"Oh, do you think the maidens are with the King?"
"They are supposed to watch over the King; of course, they are with him!"
He rolled his eyes. That stupid rumour again! Four beautiful maidens, each with the strength of a hundred men, supposedly had come from the lands beyond the wall to search the wisdom of the King. A tale not even a toddler would believe - at least, if raised in King's Landing; Aron wouldn't it put beyond some of the smallfolk from the distant borders of the realm to believe in such tales - and yet, it had spread like wildfire in the weeks since the first letters of the King's party had arrived from Winterfell.
Letters carried by ship, not ravens, of course, which told Aron all he needed to know that there was no truth to the rumours. If only because no maiden would stay so for long near the King, he thought with a snort. The King's appetites were known to everyone in the Red Keep.
He studied the crowd, which was still growing. Varys, the Master of Whispers, had arrived, wearing his silk robes and undoubtedly surrounded by a cloud of perfume. Nearby, The Master of Coin, Lord Littlefinger, dressed in his finest clothes, stood, both men smiling at each other with all the honesty of a Fleabottom whore looking for business.
Aron couldn't help wondering how the new Hand would handle those two and their rivalry. Would he follow Lord Arryn's example and make both work for the King? Or would he be bought by the Spymaster's secrets or the purser's coins? Either way, the balance of power at the court would change.
The crowd parted, making way for another late arrival, though without resentment. Lord Renly had arrived, the Master of Laws ready to welcome his brother home. As usual, Ser Loras Tyrell was at his side. The two were so close, rumour had them share a bed.
Aron frowned at the thought. If Lord Renly weren't the King's youngest brother - and Lord Paramount of the Stormlands, the ancestral kingdom of the Baratheons - and Ser Loras the son of Lord Mace Tyrell, ruler of the Reach…
"Here they come!"
"The King! The King!"
Shouts announcing the King's arrival interrupted his thoughts, and he straightened. He was the master-at-arms of the Red Keep. What the members of the Small Council did in their bedrooms, or in backroom dealings, was none of his business. He wasn't about to risk his position, and possibly his neck, by meddling in those affairs.
And there came the King. Aron wasn't quite certain, but it seemed as if the King had lost some weight - at least, he hadn't grown fatter. And he was in a good mood, which was unusual - it was no secret that the King didn't like the Red Keep very much and was happiest when he was hunting or otherwise out of the keep and city.
But Aron focused on the man riding at the King's side. Tall, dark-haired, with a stern expression, and wearing a coat with the direwolf sigil on it - that would be Lord Stark, Warden of the North and the new Hand of the King.
He reminded Aron of Lord Stannis Baratheon, the master of ships, who had still not returned from Dragonstone. Perhaps not quite as cold, despite being from the North, but he seemed to be as dutiful. And unlike Lord Stannis, Lord Stark was actually smiling.
"Your Grace! The Red Keep is yours!" Lord Renly knelt, and Aron and everyone else present followed suit.
"Thank you, Renly!" The King's booming voice rang through the courtyard. "Everyone, this is Lord Eddard Stark, the Hand of the King!"
The new Hand wasn't smiling any more, Aron noted as he looked up. But before he could ponder what that might mean, he noticed that Prince Joffrey had ridden behind the King - and not with the Queen. That was a new development. And the red-haired girl riding next to him would be his betrothed, Lady Sansa Stark, then - that information had arrived via raven, of course.
Quite a match, Aron thought with a smile - both of the children took after their mothers, not their fathers, so… He blinked at the animal trotting next to the girl's horse. That was a wolf!
And not just one - two more followed the animal. Who was as daft as to bring wolves to the Red Keep? The Starks, he answered his own question as he noticed the sigil on the coat of the boy riding next to the wolves. That would be Lord Bran Stark, and, judging by how similar she looked, the girl next to him would be Lady Arya Stark.
He had to hand it to the new Hand - Lord Stark knew how to make an entrance; the animals had set tongues wagging. Some of the children who had slipped closer were trying to disappear to the back of the crowd again.
"Seven Hells! Those aren't wolves!"
Aron glanced at the man who had cursed next to him. Jorin, the kennelmaster. But he was wrong. Aron might not be a kennelmaster, but he could tell a wolf from a dog. "Are you daft?" he whispered. "Those are no dogs!"
"I know! But those aren't wolves either!" Jorin replied. "Those are puppies yet the size of grown wolves! Those must be direwolves! They are supposed to be extinct!"
The sigil animal of House Stark? Aron revised his estimate of the new Hand again; the man must have taken great care to make an impression on the court with such a display. Though what was the reason the wolves arrived with his children, and not himself? A subtle gesture, no doubt, but what did it mean?
"Oh, look at them!"
"The Maidens!"
Aron took a deep breath. Not that foolish rumour again. Who was as daft as to… He blinked again.
Four girls were marching, in line, following the van of the royal party. One of them was carrying the largest scythe he had ever seen. And the most peculiar one. It was far taller than the girl in question, looked to weigh as much as she did, and seemed to have been cobbled together from various parts. He would have dismissed it as some mummer's prop if not for the obvious quality of the construction - and the sharp point he could see. The others were armed as well, if with more practical weapons. The girl next to the scythe-wielder was carrying an elaborate waterdancer's sword, which told Aron that she was from Essos as much as her white hair showed her Valyrian blood.
"Look at their clothes!"
"How scandalous!"
"Who allowed this?"
"The King, you daft fool!"
Oh, their clothes! Aron drew a sharp breath between his clenched teeth. He had been correct - no maiden would wear skirts that showed their legs like this! Even whores would baulk at that! And the other two were even worse! The blonde with hair that covered her entire back like a lion's mane - Lannister blood, surely - wore smallclothes and half a skirt, golden gauntlets as if she wanted to mock armoured knights, and not much else other than a corset and some scrap of a coat, and the girl next to her wore the pants of a courtier and a shirt that failed to cover her upper body in any decent fashion while carrying… a cleaver? Like a butcher?
And yet, despite the outrageousness of the situation, the King was smiling at them - and waved them over where he was talking with his brother. None of his party seemed to be disturbed by this!
What was going on? Was this some prank? Or…
Aron blinked as the girl with the scythe vanished in a cloud of petals and appeared next to the king.
What the…?
"Listen, everyone!" the King's booming voice rang out again. "These maidens are Lady Ruby Rose, Lady Weiss Schnee, Lady Blake Belladonna and Lady Yang Xiao Long. They are my personal guests while they are looking for a way to return to their world. And since I know what you lot are thinking - you too, Renly, don't deny it! - Ser Barristan will give you a little demonstration."
Aron watched, confused, as the Kingsguard dismounted and approached the small group, drawing his sword.
The blonde - Lady Yang - grinned and took a step to the side, spreading her arms wide.
"Don't hold back, Ser!" the King commanded.
"I shall not, Your Grace."
Were they about to fight? Here, now?
Aron was still trying to make sense of what was happening when Ser Barristan raised his blade, holding it with both hands - and, with a step forward, brought it down straight on Lady Yang's head.
Aron gasped with everyone else, horrified - and then gasped again when he realised that the blade had struck but not cut the girl. A perfectly executed swing, with all the force Ser Barristan could muster - as master-at-arms, Aron could tell - and the girl wasn't even scratched!
That was… "Gods above!" he muttered.
He wasn't the only one. Not by far.
*****
Red Keep, King's Landing, Crownlands, Westeros, 298 AC
"I have to confess, Lady Ruby, that when I heard my brother's claims about your and your friends' strength, I was a little doubtful. But I stand corrected."
Ruby Rose (she was a Huntress, not a noblewoman, but she couldn't tell the locals that, or there would be trouble) smiled and nodded. She had been doing that a lot. If she weren't at the feast to celebrate the King's return and going through courses like Nora went through Ren's pancakes, she was sure her cheeks would have cramped up from smiling constantly. "I think you were not the only one, Lord Renly," she replied before spearing another meatball with her fork and putting it into her mouth.
Mhh! It was as juicy as the one before. She missed her favourite sauce - those meatballs would go perfectly with hot ketchup! - but they were great anyway. Of course, the King would have the best cooks in his palace. Castle. Keep. Whatever.
"Well, can you blame me? Hearing about supernaturally strong women warriors from another world… most mummers would not dare to put on a show like that." Lord Renly, the King's much younger (and much more handsome - he had no thick beard) brother, chuckled.
"Did you really think I would joke like that, Renly? Hah!" The King guffawed.
"Well, you did enjoy our reaction, Robert. But I am grateful that you had this demonstration held right away. I shudder to think how many here would have made fools out of them if they had let their misconceptions linger and stew." Lord Renly laughed.
"Hah! I couldn't do that to Ned - start his time as my Hand by having to replace half the court?" The King laughed loudly.
"I would hope that most of your people would know better than to insult guests of the King," Lord Eddard said.
Lord Renly laughed again, as did his friend, Ser Loras (a really cute boy about Ruby's age) even though it was a rather poor joke.
Ruby swallowed the next meatball and spoke up. "Uh… We wouldn't actually kill people for insulting us. Or maim them. We don't want to do that. We train hard so we don't do it accidentally, either." Ruby had crippled one man without wanting to, she wouldn't do that to another if she could help it. (And she could!)
"I am sure many nobles will be relieved to hear that," Lord Renly said.
"Of course, our mercy only goes so far," Weiss cut in. "We are Huntresses."
Right. Weiss was concerned that they would sound like pushovers to the locals. And she was right, kinda - the looks they had gotten in the city, and in the Red Keep, had been bad. Ruby nodded.
"And they are not used to our customs," the Queen added. "So, please, don't mistake their ignorance for deliberate insults - they don't know any better."
Weiss narrowed her eyes, and Ruby suppressed a grimace. "Lady Catelyn has taught us your customs. They have been very welcoming."
"The customs of the North," the Queen said with a slight scoff.
"There might be a few differences between the customs in the North and the other kingdoms, but no Southern kingdom is the same either," Lord Eddard said, "Lady Ruby and her friends have been quite gracious guests."
"Yes, Ned!" The King nodded. "For people who could tear down the Red Keep with their bare hands, you have been very gracious! Only a fool would deny it."
The Queen huffed at that, and many of the ladies at the table seemed to share her opinion.
Lord Renly, though, smiled widely. "You must have the patience of a saint, Lady Ruby."
"Ah…" Ruby smiled, a little embarrassed. "I'm actually not that patient. If it's important, I like to get it done quickly. I hate waiting!" Like, waiting to find a way back home!
Weiss sighed, and the King, Lord Renly and Ser Loras laughed at that while the Queen fumed and glared at her.
Ruby couldn't win. She hoped that they would soon serve dessert - she really needed her sweets!
*****
Their new quarters were much, much bigger than the ones they'd had in Winterfell. Two bedrooms and a living room. No bath, of course - they still had to order a tub and have it filled by servants if they wanted to take a bath, and the Red Keep didn't have hot springs like Winterfell - but they had far more space now! And more privacy!
Ruby sank into one of the seats in the living room and closed her eyes. "I shouldn't have eaten the last cake."
"You shouldn't have eaten the last three," Weiss told her.
"The last three dozen," Yang added.
Ruby snorted without opening her eyes. "Those cakes were so good! What about the fish, Blake?" Her friend had been pretty quiet during the meal. Quieter than usual, at least. When she didn't hear an answer, she opened her eyes and glanced around.
Oh. Blake was staring at the wall and gesturing with one hand - she was signalling them to be quiet.
No, to act like nothing was wrong (and ignore Blake doing her thing, probably). Ruby watched as Blake slowly moved her hand along the wall, her bow twitching from time to time. "So… what did you think of the King's brother?" she asked. "He was very friendly. Though not too friendly, if you know what I mean."
"I don't think he'd hit on his brother's guests in front of the King," Yang said.
"I assume that he hasn't had time yet to talk to the King in private," Weiss added. "And he might not want to rush into things before he has done so. However, as he isn't married or engaged yet, despite his position and age, I think we need to be very careful around him."
"Not even engaged?" Yang frowned. "Isn't that unusual for a Lord like him?"
"Yes, it is. He's a Lord Paramount and the brother of the King - one of the most eligible bachelors in the kingdom," Weiss said.
"Aw…" Ruby pouted. "I thought he was a decent guy who was just friendly and polite." He hadn't stared at her chest or legs or butt. Neither had Ser Loras. She would really hate it if either started to talk about engagements. Or betrothals, as they called it here.
"And handsome," Yang added with a grin.
Ruby rolled her eyes at her. Really, those jokes got old long ago. It wasn't as if she was going to marry anyone, certainly not here in Westeros. They would be going home, to Dad, Zwei, and the others. To Beacon and Vale, where your husband couldn't hit you half a dozen times if you disobeyed him or whatever."And he obviously doesn't like the Queen," Weiss said. "Also, Ruby, you insulted her again."
"What? How?" She hadn't done anything! She had been honest and polite!
"You called her unimportant and beneath your notice."
"What? I didn't!"
"You did, and it was great!" Yang chuckled.
Just when Ruby got Weiss to explain what she (supposedly) had done, Blake suddenly vanished.
And not ninja-vanished - she had slipped into the wall! No, she had slipped through a secret door in the wall!
Ruby used her Semblance to rush over to the opening and almost crashed into Blake, who was crouching on the floor. "A secret passage!" Ruby beamed. How cool were their quarters?
"A secret passage used to spy on guests," Blake said.
Oh, right. That wasn't cool. Not cool at all.
"Were there any spies listening to us?" Weiss asked with a deep frown.
"I didn't see any signs of recent use," Blake told her. "But I saw older footprints. Small ones."
"Small ones?" Yang asked.
"Kids. Little kids," Blake said.
"Oh. Little kids are spying on us?" Ruby shook her head. That was even worse!
"Are you annoyed that we don't rate a grown-up spy?" Yang grinned.
"No. But… who would use little kids as spies?" Ruby asked. "And send them through secret passages?"
"Half the members of the court, I would assume," Weiss said. "We'll have to investigate to narrow it down."
*****
Red Keep, King's Landing, Crownlands, Westeros, 298 AC
The Red Keep was quite impressive, from an architectural point of view - Weiss Schnee knew a few acquaintances of her father who would be interested in studying the castle and especially the various towers. However, while Blake certainly seemed to enjoy exploring and mapping the various secret passages, Weiss would have preferred a bit more privacy and security for her quarters. They couldn't even trap the passages properly, or they'd risk harming children since even a simple paint trap would endanger the little spies' lives - Weiss didn't doubt that whoever was employing the children would kill them so they couldn't betray their identity. And if they survived that, the local excuse for a judicial system would likely see the poor kid maimed or deported unless Team RWBY intervened.
And if they did, it would just end with all the local spymasters using little children as their catspaws in an attempt to exploit the fact that Team RWBY wasn't as callous or brutal as most of the nobles in Westeros when it came to children. So, Weiss and her friends would have to hope that their safest traps would be enough to catch one of the little spies or for Blake to catch them in the act without anyone noticing.
At least, the Red Keep was on a hill - a cliff - right at the shore, so when the wind blew from the sea, the stench of the city wasn't noticeable, which was definitely the best thing about the castle.
Maybe the second-best - the fact that so many nobles were extending invitations to Team RWBY meant that Weiss wouldn't have to see the Queen outside shared meals in the evenings - which weren't that common, to her relief - for quite some time.
She smiled as she stepped out of the tower and into the courtyard and saw Sansa leave the tower of the Hand with Lady, Hunter and Nymeria. "Lady Sansa."
"Lady Weiss!"
They exchanged curtsies, and Weiss had to suppress a giggle when the three adorable wolves surrounded her, sniffing at her clothes. Their breath tickled her bare legs, and she leaned down a little to pet them, then crouched down when Nymeria and Hunter rolled on the ground and presented their bellies for scritching. "Who's a good boy? You are! And who's a good girl? You are!"
Lady whined a little, and Weiss looked at her, then at Sansa.
The girl frowned. "I just brushed you, Lady!"
Lady whined again, and her ears drooped.
No one with a heart could resist that - and Sansa wasn't heartless. She sighed and nodded, and Lady barked, jumping up and then dropping to the ground as well to roll around and get well-deserved scritches.
"They really like you," Sansa said.
"I can't fault their taste," Weiss replied with a smile. "But you have raised Lady well; she's very obedient."
"She's a lady," Sansa said. "Composed and proper. That's why I named her."
Her direwolf certainly seemed more composed and less playful than Hunter and less sly than Nymeria, but that only added to her charm. "Are you taking them for a walk?"
"Yes. Bran and Arya overslept - they must have stayed up too late," Sansa said.
Was that a subtle hint that she knew that Team RWBY had given the two and Jon another lesson in one of the training salles to whom the King had granted them access? Or just an innocent comment of a girl about her younger siblings?
Weiss nodded. "We're still recovering from travelling," she said. "I'm certain they'll improve." Or Ruby would make them train even harder. For a seemingly flighty girl, Team RWBY's leader was a fiend when it came to training.
"They better!" Sansa pouted. "They have a responsibility to care for their wolves!"
Weiss couldn't disagree with that. "Hunter and Nymeria look healthy and happy."
Sansa sniffed but nodded in apparent agreement.
Weiss was tempted to ask about Ghost, but Sansa had a slightly complicated relationship with her half-brother. That shouldn't extend to his wolf, but given how close the Starks were to their adorable fluffy pets, that probably couldn't be avoided.
"And what are you up to this morning, Lady Weiss?" Sansa asked.
"I was about to look for the training yard. We're still familiarising ourselves with the Red Keep," Weiss replied. They hadn't yet trained in public; the King granting them a private training salle had been a clear hint - at least to Weiss and Blake - that they shouldn't show off too much at once, and a good opportunity to train with the Starks in private, but that wouldn't last. Team RWBY wouldn't hide from the locals. That would only foster even more rumours.
It was already apparent that many of the keep's staff were afraid of them - even now, most of the servants and even the guards traversing the yard gave Weiss a wide berth. It seemed that not even the sight of three puppies frolicking around could overcome this.
"Would you mind if I accompany you, my lady? I wish to learn my way around the keep as well," Sansa asked.
"Of course not!" Weiss straightened after a last head pat for Hunter, who tried to lick her hand in return for another head pat, and nodded. "This will be your home one day, so it behoves you to be familiar with it."
Sansa nodded with a smile. "Yes, it will."
Her mood had improved since they had arrived in King's Landing, Weiss noted. The girl was more open and happier than at the start of their trip. However, that might be because the Prince hadn't been speeding as much time with Team RWBY as he had on the road. Maybe she should have a word with him about not neglecting his fiancée - he was still a child and might not realise how this might look to Sansa.
On the other hand, it was best not to meddle with the relationship between the crown prince and the daughter of the Hand of the King.
They walked together to the training yard. Well, the lower bailey, where the guards - the gold cloaks - and the Kingsguard trained, and, as Weiss understood, also the guests and other residents of the keep.
The path led down serpentine stairs that seemed to have been cut into the rock upon which the keep stood - an impressive achievement, though the knowledge that the cliff was riddled with dozens of secret passages and tunnels, Blake was still exploring them every night, slightly diminished it.
Weiss worried a little about the wolves - stairs weren't really made for them - but none of them seemed to have any trouble, and they arrived in the lower bailey, where Weiss was pleased to see Ser Barristan training with four other members of the Kingsguard - Ser Jaime, to Weiss's relief, was not amongst them.
"Good Morning, Ser Barristan," she greeted him with a curtsy, followed by Sansa.
"Lady Weiss. Lady Sansa." He smiled at them. "May I introduce my brothers from the Kingsguard? You already know Ser Boros Blount. Those are Ser Mandon Moore, Ser Meryn Trant and Ser Preston Greenfield."
"It's an honour to meet you, Sers." Weiss greeted them as well, even though not all of them seemed pleased to meet her - Ser Meryn Trant in particular seemed to be rather annoyed - he even sent glares at the wolves.
But Ser Barristan didn't comment on it, so it was probably just the man's usual disposition. "Did you come here to train?" he asked.
"I was merely trying to familiarise myself with the location, but I would not mind a bit of sparring," she replied. "I think I have that parrying twist down pat now."
"Then we shall find out," Ser Barristan replied as he stepped into what looked like a well-used circle covered with sand.
Weiss drew Myrtenaster and joined him in there.
She was aware how the other Kingsguards - those who didn't know her yet - were subtly shifting to watch her attentively without seeming to do so, but she couldn't focus on any of them. Not with Ser Barristan advancing on her.
*****
Red Keep, King's Landing, Crownlands, Westeros, 298 AC
Blake Belladonna silently crept through the narrow tunnel deep inside the cliff, hidden in almost complete darkness - she carried a lantern but one that was almost completely covered up, letting only the barest sliver of light illuminate the area around her enough for her eyes to see well enough to move quite fast even over the rougher parts of the ground, where the original builders had either been a bit sloppy or the steps of those who used those tunnels had worn furrows into the stone.
Her ears twitched under her bow, but she only heard the skittering noise of vermin fleeing from her approach, not the steps of humans trying to pass unseen. On the other hand, the smell of the sea was growing stronger, which meant she was getting closer to either a hidden underground pier or a secret passage that led outside near the sea level, at the foot of the cliff.
Another secret passage, to be precise - she had already found one, though that had led to a small ledge far above the waves, hidden under an overhang. Anyone who used it to leave or enter the keep must have been an excellent climber - or able to fly, though she had trouble imagining how dragons could have landed on that small ledge.
No, it was more likely that the door had been used to dispose of bodies - or people - by throwing them into the sea below, where they would be dashed against the rocks. She would have to look into how many people had slipped at night or simply disappeared, and when that had happened, to know if such things were still going on. They hadn't found the murderer of the thief, after all.
She passed a junction, following her nose toward the sea, and went on until she spotted a wall ahead of her - one that left a small gap, barely enough for a grown man to squeeze through, on one side. She was far more slender and easily slipped through, then found herself facing another such wall, with the gap on the other side. Three more followed - enough to both hide any light and keep the winds out - before she stepped on a small, rocky pier that looked, especially from above, like part of the rocks at the foot of the cliff.
But it was a pier - and recently used as such; in the dim moonlight, her eyes spotted a strand of hemp wedged into a narrow crack, undoubtedly the result of a small boat having been tied up to the rock here.
So… had they taken someone to - or from the keep?
She looked around, noting the lack of decent handholds to climb up - though she would manage it, especially if she used Gambol Shroud - and turned back into the tunnel right before a taller wave reached the top of the rocky pier. She had no intention to get wet here.
Past the walls, she opened her lantern a bit more and carefully searched the ground for any clues or signs of people passing. She didn't find too many, but it was still obvious that this wasn't a deserted tunnel.
At the junction, she followed the other tunnel, the one she had passed recently. It led, on a curved path, to a small room with a table, comfortable chairs - no cushions, though they would likely not fair well this close to the sea - and a small table with wine and candlewax stains on it.
Whoever used the room didn't think much of cleaning up after themselves. And - she sniffed the air, catching faint, very faint whiffs of perfume and beeswax - it hadn't been too long ago for the scent and stains to remain.
If only she had a recording device; planting one here would likely deliver interesting information since this didn't look like someone's love nest where they met a lover. But without such a device, she would be forced to hide a scroll here - and that would be easy to spot and not last long even if they had access to more dust.
Sighing softly, she followed the other tunnel leading from this room. That one curved around itself, taking her up towards the Red Keep proper. It wasn't particularly steep but still quite narrow, and she doubted that many could navigate it without stumbling or falling if they were in a hurry - not unless they had gone down that tunnel so often, it was second nature to them.
Which she would do well to assume; after a few days in the Red Keep, she had overheard too many conversations of minor courtiers and servants that it was quite obvious to her that the castle was filled with plotting nobles and spying servants. She had followed a servant who worked in the kitchen - not a cook; that was obvious - who had passed on gossip in secret to two different nobles. Different gossip, even. And he had been paid quite decently for it.
She reached the top of the winding tunnel, where the ground levelled, and wrinkled her nose with a grimace; the hint of stench she could smell meant that somewhere nearby, there was an opening facing the city at the foot of the hill.
She followed the stench and soon found another secret door, this one leading to a small slit that provided her with an excellent view of the main gate of the keep - and which was set in a small alcove that showed many signs of frequent use. Why would anyone want to observe the main gate? Unless they had no informant in the guards at the gate, or they planned to ambush the guards with crossbows from here, it did not make much sense to her.
But the tunnel led her past the alcove, and soon, she set foot into a tunnel with which she was already familiar. From here, it was just a short trip through two more passages, and she was back in her team's quarters.
Yang was still awake, though Ruby was asleep already - Blake had heard her soft snoring from inside the passage; the acoustics were perfect for spying - and Weiss was curled up, also asleep, next to her.
"They tried to stay awake together," Yang told her with a grin. "But both had been working a bit too hard today."
Blake knew what her partner meant. "I just checked one passage. I found a hidden pier. Besides, you're awake as well."
"Someone has to keep an eye out in case you need help."
Blake snorted at that. Yang wouldn't be able to notice, much less help her, if anyone attacked her deep below them, in the bowels of the cliff. But she appreciated the thought anyway. "Thanks."
Yang nodded. "So… where did you find that tunnel?" she pulled up the map they were working on and put it on the table.
Blake stepped up to it and started marking the passages.
*****
Red Keep, King's Landing, Crownlands, Westeros, 298 AC
"Ah, Good Morning, Lady…?"
Blake was certain that the man - the septon; he wore the robes of those priests - greeting her knew exactly who she was; she had overheard too many servants and courtiers gossiping about Team RWBY to believe anyone in the Red Keep hadn't heard detailed - if often wildly exaggerated - descriptions of each of them. And her clothes were quite distinctive, as they should be.
And the man had called her a lady - she doubted anyone would do that if they weren't aware of who she was; she knew quite well what people here said about women dressing like her, or her friends. Still, if the man wanted to play games, she would play along - for now. "Blake Belladonna. I'm a member of Team RWBY. And you are?"
"Septon Hernis, my lady." The man bowed his head.
"Good morning, Septon." She smiled, if a bit toothily.
"And how may I help you? Do you wish to pray in the sept? If so…"
Did he think she was such a fool as to mistake the castle's library for its temple? "I wish to peruse the library, Septon," she cut him off.
"Ah…" He eyed her with undisguised wariness. "What are you looking for? I am familiar with most tomes stored here and would be happy to look through them to find what you seek, my lady."
Had that very exaggerated story from Maester Luwin about her reading habits spread as far as this city? She had never ruined a book with food! But she kept smiling - assistance was always useful. "Thank you, you're too kind. I need any book mentioning magical places or locations."
"Magical places?"
"Yes." She wondered if she should explain further but decided against it. She could look or ask for more details once the man had found some tomes.
And she would have to look for a second opinion or source, just in case the Septon proved to be less than diligent. Maybe the resident Maester would be of assistance.
*****
Street of Steel, King's Landing, Crownlands, Westeros, 298 AC
"Shopping! How I've missed that!" Yang Xiao Long exclaimed as they walked over the cobblestones covering King's Landing's streets.
"We'd need money to actually buy anything," Weiss commented.
Yang didn't need to look at her friend to know she was frowning. "We're window shopping!"
"This is the Street of Steel. They don't sell glass here, my lady."Yang rolled her eyes, both at Jon's insistence of being all formal - they were in public, but not at court - and the misunderstanding. "Window shopping means looking at things for sale but not buying them."
"Ah." He was obviously confused but wouldn't ask further.
"It's fun." She almost added 'half the fun of shopping but none of the cost', but remembered that they were supposed to be noblewomen, not normal kids from Patch who couldn't buy whatever they wanted whenever they wanted. Well, except for Weiss.
"It's fun if it's weapons!" Ruby said with a smile, head turning left and right as she looked at the smithies lining the street. Yang was sure that only the promise that the best smithies were further up the street, closer to the great temple - the Great Sept of Baelor, as Jon had explained - kept her from entering every shop here.
"They should sell nose plugs; the stench is unbearable," Weiss complained.
"It's not that bad," Yang replied. Weiss turned a death glare on her, but Yang shrugged. "You get used to it."
"I don't want to get used to it!" she spat. "I want to get home!"
Yang glanced at Jon, who was steadfastly looking forward, up the street. Weiss must be really worked up to have such an outburst in public, Yang would bet on it. Her friend was usually quite set on 'maintaining information security', as she claimed her sister would call it. Yang called it keeping secrets.
At least it wasn't as if they had to push their way through a crowd of people blocking the street, but there were far more people haggling with smiths or studying the goods on display than she would have expected.
Then again, this wasn't home - this was Westeros, and the smiths here crafted a lot more than custom weapons and armour. Much of what you'd buy in the general store back home, or an outlet in Vale, would be crafted on orders by a blacksmith here. Still…
Shouting and yelling ahead of them drew her attention. It looked like there was a brawl about to happen between a burly smith and a rather flashily dressed armed guy. Should they intervene? It wasn't any of their business, but they were here, and if they helped settle things peacefully - or semi-peacefully - the smith might be willing to help them out in turn. Or hear them out when they made their proposal to trade some knowledge or favour for some material and time at the forge.
Blake suddenly whirled and rushed off into a side alley, and Yang was following her before she knew what she was doing - a Huntress didn't leave her partner going off alone in a dangerous area, and Blake wouldn't have reacted like that for nothing. Well, except some really good fish, maybe…
The small child Blake was holding up by one wrist didn't look like a fish at all. Yang snorted as she stepped up to them - and kept out of the range of the kicking and struggling kid. "If you wanted a kid we could have asked for the closest orphanage," she said.
Blake scoffed. "They tried to pick my pockets."
"Oh."
The child - dirty and wearing clothes that were too large for them and barely better than rags - shook their head but didn't say anything.
Yang narrowed her eyes. That was rather weird - she'd expected the kid to proclaim their innocence - or plead for mercy - now that they had been caught.
"Blake! What are you doing?" Ruby appeared in a cloud of scattering petals.
"They tried to pick my pockets," Blake repeated herself.
"Why did you run off?" Weiss wasn't quite panting, but she looked a little flushed, Yang noticed. Probably more from embarrassment that she had missed Blake and Yang running off than from running.
Behind her Jon appeared, breathing a bit heavily. "My lady! What did you do?"
"To catch a thief," Yang said.
The kid shook their head again but still didn't say anything.
"Oh, no!" Ruby gasped. She must be thinking about the trial they had seen.
"A thief?" Weiss frowned. "At their age?"
"Hey, they are staying silent and they dared to try and pickpocket us - that would be impressive for a career criminal," Yang said.
The kid made some guttural noises in return, and Yang saw Blake tense and clench her teeth.
"Did you understand that?" Weiss asked.
"They have no tongue," Blake replied. "They can't talk."
"What?" Yang froze for a moment. Sure, there were probably a few possible explanations for a child to be missing their tongue, and she shouldn't be biased, but… This was Westeros.
"I can call the gold cloaks, my lady," Jon offered. "And you can continue your, ah, shopping trip."
The kid froze for a moment and wildly shook their head again. They were crying as well.
Ghost padded closer, sniffing at them, and they tried to bend out of the way of the wolf's nose - and teeth.
"No! We can't call the gold cloaks!" Ruby blurted out.
"My lady?" Jon had already been turning to leave and now stopped and turned back.
"It's… It's attempted theft!" Ruby said. "That's… They're probably just hungry."
The kid nodded rapidly, but Blake snorted.
Yang took a closer look - they didn't seem to be starving. Which seemed odd for a kid living on the streets and getting by with picking pockets.
"I'd rather not deal with a trial," Weiss said with a frown.
"I don't want a trial either!" Ruby agreed emphatically.
Yang nodded, pressing her mouth together. To see a kid sent to the wall - or lose a hand? She could do without that.
Jon gasped and stared at them, mouth open, and the kid cried even harder and tried to talk without a tongue while shaking their head and struggling.
Blake rolled her eyes - at Yang and the others - then pulled the kid in close. "We don't want to see you stealing from us again, you hear?" Without waiting for an answer, she let go of their wrist, and the kid ran away.
"Ah." Jon seemed relieved, smiling again.
And Yang blinked. "Did you think we'd kill them?"
"No, of course not, my lady!" he said.
Blake snorted again, and Yang felt dumb for missing what Jon - and the kid - must have been fearing.
At least Ruby and Weiss had missed that as well.
*****
Jon had said that the closer to the top end of the Street of Steel a shop was, the better the smith was supposed to be. This was the house at the end of the street, and it towered over the others. So, this must be the best smith in King's Landing. Or, Yang added with a silent snort, the best at advertising. Wouldn't be the first time the biggest shop wasn't the best.
Well, the stone statues wearing fancy armour certainly were good advertising.
"Oh, look at that!" And, of course, Ruby would be all over them. Seriously, they had gone through a dozen shops, and she was still enthusiastic. "It's great armour!"
But her sister was right; that was some fine work. "Let's hope that means he can craft the tools we need," Yang said.
"If he can, I will be happy to point out that we could have saved hours by going directly to this shop as I suggested at the start," Weiss said with a slight edge to her voice.
"Weiss! That would have meant risking to overpay for something a cheaper smith could have made," Ruby told her. "We have to be frugal with our money. Well, if we had money."
"I am sure the King will pay for whatever you need, my lady," Jon cut in. "You're his guests."
"Yeah, but that means we need to be even more careful - we can't exploit his generosity!" Ruby shook her head.
Yang nodded, though Weiss frowned. "It seems everyone else is exploiting his generosity, at least if the rumours I've heard are correct."
"That doesn't mean we should do it!" Ruby nodded firmly. "Now let's see if…" She craned her head. "Whose shop is this?"
"Tobho Mott's, my lady," Jon replied. "He's from Qohor. It's said he is the only smith in Westeros who can work with Valyrian steel, though I don't know if that's true - that he is the only one in the kingdom or that he can work with Valyrian steel."
"Well, let's hope we don't need tools made out of Valyrian steel," Weiss said. "I think the people would take offence if we asked for a priceless weapon to be melted down for our use."
"Yeah," Yang agreed and went to knock.
She only had to knock twice before the door was opened by a young woman. "Good day, my ladies. Are you here to see Master Mott?" she asked and bowed.
She didn't seem surprised at all at their appearance, so she either was very good at hiding her reaction or she had observed them beforehand.
"Yes!" Ruby beamed at her. "Is he free? We can come by later if he's busy. We kinda didn't know we were coming, so we didn't call ahead. Oh, I'm Ruby Rose; these are Weiss Schnee, Blake Belladonna and Yang Xiao Long. And this is Jon Snow."
Weiss groaned behind Yang, but the girl's expression didn't change. "Please come in, my ladies. I will fetch Master Mott from the smithy."
"Oh, can we meet him there?" Yang smiled. "It's easier to explain what we need in the smithy." And easier to see what he could do.
"We are smiths too, kind of!" Ruby told her. "We made our own weapons!"
This time, the girl's eyes widened in surprise. "Please follow me, then, my ladies. The smithy is in the backyard."
They followed the girl through the house - which looked quite luxurious, though Yang would have to ask Weiss if it was just an act to impress customers or genuine - and into the backyard, where an older man and a boy - or young man - were hammering at anvils.
"Master Mott? These ladies would like to meet you. They said they would prefer to meet you in your smithy."
The old man turned, putting down a hammer. "Hello. I am Tobho Mott."
While Ruby introduced them, properly this time, the boy slowed down whatever he was doing - it looked like he was working on a dagger - and stared at them.
Yang grinned at him, which made him blush and look away.
Jon took a step forward, too, standing next to them.
"So, what do you need, my lady?" Mott asked. The way he looked them over, Yang almost expected him to make a comment about armour.
"We're looking for tools!" Ruby told him. "High-quality tools! Tools to maintain my baby here! And our other weapons!" She drew Crescent Rose and unfolded the scythe.
This time, both men were staring, Yang noted with a grin. "We've made our weapons," she told them. "And our tools, but that was back home, at our forges, and we haven't found any smith yet who could make the tools we need."
Mott stiffened at that. "Can you show me the tools you need?"
"Sure." Yang reached into her pocket and pulled her travelling set out, then the crude multitool she had cobbled together. "I made this on the road, but you can see the difference."
Mott nodded, his eyes flicking between the tools and the weapons. He reached out and, after Yang nodded, picked a spanner up. "These are so fine…"
"Our weapons have lots of fiddly bits," Ruby told him. "Look!" She held up Crescent Rose and then glanced around before heading to the closest table. "Let me show you!"
Yang followed her. She could tell that Mott was a bit doubtful about their claims, but after Ruby showed off how her weapon worked and disassembled and reassembled it twice, and Yang asked a few detailed questions about his forge, he obviously accepted that they were fellow smiths.
Good. That meant they might be able to trade some know-how about weaponcrafting for help with their tools.
She looked around as Mott and Ruby talked about steel quality. Yes, compared to the smithy in Winterfell, this one was far more advanced. But it still fell short of Beacon's forge. And yet, looking at the finely crafted pieces on the shelves, maybe, if they were lucky, they could forge some tools to make the tools here. It would be a good first step, at least. Maybe they could… She blinked and turned her attention back on Mott. What was that?
"Yes, as noblewomen, and foreigners, of course, you're not required to join the guild to practice smithing, but they might still be interested in your knowledge, and as every blacksmith in King's Landing is a member, they have a great deal of influence on the craft."
That sounded quite innocent, but the way he worded it, and his expression… Yang just knew this was more trouble waiting for them.
*****