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Walking down the packed dirt road with Ser Jorah at her side and her handmaidens close behind, Dany did her best to block out the sounds of the dead and dying as she made her way through the small town her husband had just raided. It'd been several moons since her brother had met his demise at the hands of her husband, and despite her thinking that her life might have a moment's peace now that her brother was gone, she had been wrong. If anything, her life had only become more and more complicated since that day.
Within a single day of her brother dying, she had gone from thinking that she was the last dragon to learning that not only was she not the last, but that she had both a great-uncle and nephew who were alive and well in the North! A part of her, a small part, was still bitter over the fact that her nephew, and by gods was that strange to say, had managed to live a life that did not require him to be constantly on the run from assassins. But that small part was vastly overshadowed by the joy she felt in the knowledge that she was not the last of her family. After learning of her family in Westeros, her life began looking far brighter than it had been. Drogo, her sun and stars, was proving to be a far better husband than she could've ever hoped for! He was attentive to her wants and desires and fiercely protective of her. He also, much to the chagrin of a many Dothraki, began involving her in discussions that were usually reserved only for men. But just as Dany began thinking that her life had indeed taken a turn for the better, it all nearly came crashing down around her.
The day that things had started to turn once more had started out like any other. With her son's birth rapidly approaching, Dany had made sure to take morning walks through the markets of Vaes Dothrak at the suggestion of the Dosh Khaleen. During this walk, Dany was intercepted by a wine merchant who swore up and down that he had the best wine available and all but begged her to take some to her husband and even offered her a full cup of what he claimed was his best wine to prove its worth. But just as she was about to take up his offer, Ser Jorah intervened. At first, she was confused as to why he stopped her, but then he started asking questions of the wine vendor. Specifically, why he, who made his life off of selling wine, would willingly give away a full cup of his best as a sample. For some reason, his questions made the wine vendor uneasy, which in turn made Dany uneasy. And when first Ser Jorah, then herself, demanded that the wine vendor try the offered wine first, the man dropped all pretenses and made a run for it. The man did not make it far as Rakharo managed to tackle the man and bind him before he could even make it a dozen paces down the street.
The attempted assassination had been a crude reminder to her that while her life was taking a turn for the better, she was still a Targaryen, and the Usurper Robert Baratheon still wanted her dead. When Drogo found out, well, to say that he was livid was an understatement. He'd charged into the tent where she was being looked after and, after ensuring that she was safe and offering Jorah his choice of mount for his actions, made an example of the assassin. First, he'd had the man stripped bare and a piece of leather was tied around his head and placed in his mouth so that he could not bite off his own tongue. He was then tied to a post in the middle of Vaes Dothrak and left to the mercy of the sun and heat.
After two days, with milk and honey being poured down the man's throat to keep him alive, her husband announced that he would be leading a raid to the south. And much to Dany's surprise, Drogo also announced that she, despite nearly being ready to bring their son into the world, would be coming with him. After being helped into her saddle, Dany noticed that the assassin was cut down and had his hands tied to the back of a horse. According to Ser Jorah, the man would be forced to walk until he could no longer walk. Dany had questioned about what would happen after he could not walk, Ser Jorah simply replied then he would be dragged until he was no more. The would-be assassin lasted only three miles at best before his legs gave out from under him. And just as Jorah said, he was then dragged across the ground as the sand, rocks and grass tore at his flesh until he was nothing more than a limp piece of bloodied flesh that was being dragged behind a horse.
As gruesome as his fate, both to watch and hear, Dany could not find herself to care. The man had tried to kill her husband, herself, and their unborn child. But what did bring her to care was what she was seeing now. The aftermath of her husband's raid on a small town. She had always known that her husband and now her own people were raiders and brutal. But until now she had never seen their brutality firsthand. Now though…as she walked through the blood-stained dirt roads of what was once a village with the bodies of men, women and…even a few children. The true brutality of her people began to set in. And with each body she passed, the true extent of what happened here became more apparent. While there were a few Dothraki amongst the dead, they were few and far between. If she were pressed, she would say that perhaps only one in twenty bodies she saw amongst the dead were of the Dothraki. 'This wasn't a battle,' Dany thought, fighting to keep her composure as she walked. 'This was a slaughter.'
As she walked further and further into the village, she noticed children and women tied to posts. The dead were being scavenged over for anything valuable by the women of her husband's khalasaar. And those who were still dying swiftly met their ends at of an arakh. "What…What did they do?" Dany asked as she tried not to look too hard at the death and destruction around her.
It was Rakharo who answered her. "The Lamb Men make for good raiding. They have gold, food, women. And while they usually aren't worth a shit in a fight, sometimes they can surprise us with a decent challenge."
"And what of the men, women and children who have not met their end?" Dany asked, eyeing the children who were either being tied to posts or corralled into pens like livestock.
Rakharo shrugged. "If a boy shows promise, he will be taken amongst the khalsar. If not, he will be left behind and maybe he will grow into a man that might one day give us a worthy challenge for a change. Though that doesn't always happen. The girls, if they're too young to be of use then they will be left. If they're of childbearing age and pretty enough, they might get the honor of carrying a worthwhile child in her womb."
Dany felt a wave of bile rise in her throat. A boy would either be left alone or brought amongst the khalasar…and any pretty girl would be raped. And while the children's potential fates disturbed her, it was the almost callous way in which Rakharo describe it that really unnerved her. 'You knew that they were raiders, Dany,' she chided herself as she fought against showing her revulsion on her face. 'You knew this was going to happen sooner or later. Yet you didn't want to believe it.'
'I can change them.' Dany argued back at herself.
'Perhaps. But change does not come quickly…nor easily. And until it does, you must accept the fact that this is the reality of these people, of your people.'
'I can change them. I will! And it starts today!'
"You have a gentle heart, Khaleesi," Ser Jorah said from beside her, completely oblivious to the argument she was having with herself.
The sentiment did not necessarily sit well with her. She could not have a gentle heart, not amongst the Dothraki. And certainly not if she wanted to change them for the better. Hearing a woman, several women, cry out drew Dany's attention to one of the pens where one of her husband's khalassar was pushing and pulling his way through the women. Seemingly finding one he liked, he threw the woman over his shoulder like she was a sack of wheat before making his way out of the pen.
Feeling rage race through her, and doing nothing to stop it, Dany marched purposefully towards the man, putting herself in his path and making him stop. "Khaleesi." The rider greeted her politely, though she could see the slightest bit of a sneer on his face.
"Set her down. I wish to look upon her."
The rider frowned but knowing that he could not deny such a simple request from her, he set the woman…no…the girl down and forced her to face Dany. She was no older than Dany at best. She was pretty, but her fear, so thick that Dany could almost taste it, was dampening that beauty. "A pretty thing," Dany commented, doing all she could to keep her voice, and temper, even. "Do you intend to wed this one?"
The girl, and the rider, both wore looks of surprise. "Why would I wed a lamb woman?" The rider asked as if the very idea disgusted him. "She is pretty and I intent to mount her as part of my spoils. Nothing more."
The surprise quickly disappeared from the girl's face, replaced once more with fear. "So, you intend to mount her…very well. But first you will wed her."
The rider looked at her like she was not making any sense. "Why? I will not wed a lamb woman."
"Then you will not be mounting her," Dany answered calmly, turning and making sure that she had the attention of all nearby. "Let the rest of the khalasar know this. As khalessi to Khal Drogo, I hereby claim all the daughters taken during our raids. If a rider intends to mount a daughter under my claim, he must wed her first. Or if you are so weak willed that you cannot even keep your cock in your pants at the sight of a pretty girl…then I will have your cock removed."
The rider before her was near red with his rage. Once upon a time Dany might have cowered before the look he was giving her, but that was before she'd met Jon, Lord Nox and her husband Drogo. Back then she'd been a weak little girl. But no more. "You intend to take my spoils from me!?"
"Not at all. You merely need to take this girl as your wife, then you may mount her."
The rider glanced from the girl to Dany before snarling and letting her go. He then turned on his heel and marched away from her. The girl immediately dropped to her knees before Dany, kissing her feet and speaking so fast that Dany could hardly understand what she was saying outside of 'thank you'. "Irri, Doreah. See to it that the daughters taken are brought under my claim," she said after getting the girl to calm down. "Rakharo, see to it that my words are spread amongst the khalasaar. And Ser Jorah with me. I have a feeling that rider will be going and complaining to my husband here soon, if he isn't already."
Dany's prediction was, unfortunately, correct as she saw the rider that she'd just stopped from raping the young woman standing before her husband. When Dany stepped up into the pavilion her husband was sitting under, ignoring the pile of dead laying just outside, both men stopped talking as Drogo turned his attention to her. "Moon of my life. Mago here tells me you have taken his spoils. A daughter of a lamb woman he was about to mount. I would hear the truth of this from you."
Turning to cast a glance towards the rider, Mago, who was smirking at her. "He tells the truth, my sun and stars. Though distorts the truth to suit his purpose." Dany said, meeting her husband's eyes. "I have claimed the daughters of this settlement to do with as I please."
Drogo was staring at her not in anger, but rather in curiosity and what almost looked like amusement. "This is the way of war. These daughters are spoils to do with as we please."
Dany did not back down. "If a rider wishes to mount a daughter that I have claimed, as Khaleesi of this khalasar, then he will wed her. However, if the rider is so weak willed that he cannot control his desire to get his cock wet without wedding the daughter beforehand, then I will have his cock removed."
Drogo's smirk grew at her proclamation, though Mago was clearly not pleased. "No foreign girl commands me!"
Raising her hand, Dany reached out with the Force and threw the man back against one of the stone pillars of the pavilion, holding him there so that his feet could not touch the ground. Though the sheer amount of will and concentration even these simple feet surprised her. As her pregnancy had progressed, she had been finding it harder and harder to do anything with the Force. Mostly because she couldn't concentrate with her son moving within her. And now with her son's birth soon upon her, doing anything, no matter how menial, with the Force was incredibly taxing to her. "I am the Khaleesi of Khal Drogo. And this khalasaar, which you are a part of, will follow my orders." Letting him fall to the ground, Dany struggled to remain her poise as she kept herself from showing just how much that simple display cost her.
Mago, having regained his feet, glared at her and took a threatening step towards her. But in response Ser Jorah and Rakharo both took a step forward with their hands on their weapons. "Ha! You see that fire within my wife! That's the fire of the Dragon Lords of old that burns within her! Fire that my son, the one who will mount the world, will carry when she brings him into the world. Mago, I will hear no more of this. Find somewhere else to stick your cock. Or, as my wife said, if you are so weak willed that you cannot control your urges and mount a daughter my wife has claimed without marrying her, you will lose your cock."
Dany was pleased, more than pleased, to hear her husband grant her request. But the same could not be said of Mago. Instead of taking the command for what it was, Mago spat on the ground between himself and her husband. "A Khal who bends to the will of a foreign magi whore is no Khal!"
Immediately, her husband's bloodriders took a step forward with their arakha ready to strike, but all four back down with but a single sound from her husband. Glancing towards her sun and stars, Dany was more startled by the look in his eyes. He looked angrier than she had ever seen him. "Mago," her sun and star's voice was low, but laced with iron and venom. "I was willing to overlook your words…but naming my wife, my Khaleesi, the moon of my life and mother of my son a whore…that is something I will not tolerate. I will not have your body burned. I will not give you that honor. No. I will leave your corpse to rot on the ground."
Leaving his arakha, her husband rose to his feet. Ser Jorah urged her to take a step back, and for once she did not resist him as he guided her back a few steps. Mago immediately raised his arakha the moment her husband rose and placed the edge of the blade against Drogo's chest near his shoulder. Instead of backing away, her husband instead rolled his shoulder forward, letting the blade cut into his flesh, yet at the same time forcing Mago to take a step back. "The beetles will feast on your flesh and the worms will fuck your skull."
Pulling back his arakha, Mago took several swings at Drogo, each of which her sun and stars evaded by moving his body back and forth out of the path of the blade. After one wild swing, Drogo managed to get behind Mago so the two were back-to-back. Before Mago could react, Drogo kicked backwards, his foot finding purchase against Mago's back and throwing the rider to the ground. Keeping his back turned to the downed Mago, her sun and star drew the daggers from his waist. "The rain will fall on your rotting flesh!" Then, just as Mago had regained his foot, her husband showed just how little he cared for Mago's skill as he dropped both of his dagger. "Until there is nothing left but bones."
Mago went on the attack again, but just as before her husband skillfully evaded each strike with ease. Growing more and more frantic with each miss and Drogo's taunts, Mago screamed, "You have to kill me first!"
Instead of evading the next attack, her sun and stars stepped forward, catching Mago's arms against his chest and pinning them there with his hands. "I already have!"
What happened next happened so fast Dany could barely follow it. With one move, her husband tore the arakha out of Mago's grip and spun it towards the rider. Next she knew, her husband had blood on his chest and face as the arakha tore through Mago's throat. But despite the deathblow, her husband did not cease. Dropping the arakha, Drogo gripped Mago's shoulder with his left hand before lashing out towards the opened throat with his right. Dany nearly lost her stomach at the sound of a wet ripping and gurgled cry of agony, but she held strong, even as Mago fell to the ground dead as her husband stood over the dead man with his tongue and part of his throat held in his hand. Grunting, her sun and stars turned around and carelessly tossed the torn-out tongue on top of the pile of bodies before retaking the seat he'd been in when she'd first arrived.
Stepping over the freshly made corpse, Dany tried her best to walk calmly and slowly towards her husband. Even now, she knew that she could not show any sort of weakness, especially not after her husband just got done killing one of his own riders for her. Standing before him, she slowly went down to her knees as she inspected the wound on his chest. "My sun and stars, you're hurt."
"A scratch, nothing more. A simple bite of a fly."
Turning her attention away from the wound, she gazed up at her husband's eyes. "Even the mightiest can fall from a cut should it fester." Rising, she turned to all those assembled. "Is there a healer amongst you?"
No one stepped forward. No one at least until an older woman from amongst the one's Dany had claimed stepped forward. "I know a bit of healing…Khaleesi. I will perform what I know in payment for your claiming of us away from…them."
Dany had not realized that one of her age had been amongst those kept in the pens. Deciding to be cautious, Dany set out a wave with the Force, trying to get a read on the woman's intent just as Jon and Lord Nox had taught her. She could feel the fear from the women around her. The lingering bloodlust and desire from the riders. But from the woman she felt…nothing. Anxiety yes. But…no fear like the others. Glancing back towards her husband, Drogo gave her a look that told her that such a thing was not necessary. But she would not back down and eventually he gaze a single nod. "See to my husband's wounds." Dany ordered, stepped away from her husband as the old woman nodded and to take her place. Once the older woman was with her husband, she turned her attention to Doreah and spoke in the common tongue to mask their conversation. "You know the healing arts better than any other I know. And I trust you explicitly. Watch her."
Doreah gave her a look of concern, but she nodded and moved past Dany towards the old woman to offer her aid. 'Something isn't right.' Dany thought, biting her lip. 'But I cannot let that wound fester on a fear of something I do not know.'
Ever since he'd read about Harrenhal, Nox had been anxious to visit the famous castle. And now that he was here, he was not disappointed. The castle was positively massive to an almost ridiculous scale even by Sith standards. The castle itself easily covered three times the area as Winterfell and it's walls were just as tall, obscuring almost everything within save for the five towers within that could almost be described as skyscrapers given their height. What he wouldn't have given to see this place in it's prime, before Aegon the Conqueror had come and used his dragon to melt a fair portion of the keep into an almost unusable condition. But despite the damage, this castle was indeed a marvel.
Feeling Nyra's hand gently fall atop of his own, Nox brought himself back from his examinations of the great castle and back to where he was within the Hall of the Hundred Hearths. Though calling it that was more of an exaggeration than anything as Nox could only count somewhere in the mid-thirties, but it was still a massive room. Easily larger than the throne room in the Red Keep, and far larger than most audience chambers in the Sith Empire. And as of this moment, all of the thirty or so hearts were ablaze as hundreds, perhaps nearly a thousand, gathered within the confines of the hall to eat, drink, and talk. And the sheer volume within the hall was almost to the point of being uncomfortable given the number of people who were talking at once. But mercifully, Nox and Nyra had been given a seat of honor up on the dais with the royal family and the other 'Great Noble' houses of Westeros.
Nox and Nyra had been given a place amongst the Starks, who were seated directly to the right of the royal family while the Queens own family, the Lannisters, were seated to the left of the royal family with Tywin Lannister taking the spot closest to the royals. Next to Starks were the Tully's, though the only two in attendance were the young heir Edmure and his Uncle Brynden 'The Blackfish'. The younger of whom seemed to be doing all he could to avoid his kin, while the elder was at least talking with the Stark children and Ned. The Tyrells were also seated close by, Willas clearly eager to be close to his betrothed while the youngest girl Margeary was dressed clearly in a manner that was meant to draw the attention of the young crown Prince. A feat which she seemed to be excelling at judging by how frequently the boy's attention kept being drawn to her. And rounding out those seated at the high table was the King's youngest brother Renly, who was talking in an aminated fashion to all who had an ear to listen to whatever story he was spinning.
But perhaps the most important thing of note was not necessarily who was at the high table, but rather those who were not. The King's brother was absent. As were the Martells. The latter were expected to be absent considering the bad blood that still existed between the crown and them. And Stannis, while his sudden isolation was indeed odd it was not necessarily of enough note to get more than a few tongues wagging. What did have a lot of people talking was the fact that there was no representative from House Arryn. There were a few knightly and noble Houses from the Vale in attendance but according to the Blackfish, who was Knight of the Gate, the Lady Lysa Tully had pulled back her court to Eyrie and was now hold up there, refusing all ravens and visitors.
Feeling Nyra's hand tighten on his own, Nox tried to give his wife a reassuring smile as he returned the gesture in kind. It was easy to forget that his wife had been born and raised a 'commoner', given how strong an influence and presence she had in the North. But here in the south, surrounded by the 'royals' and 'nobles', many of whom were looking down at her but wisely keeping their mouth shut lest they truly draw his wrath, she was clearly uneasy. "You're doing fine Nyra," Nox said lowly so that only the two of them could hear. "You, more than most, deserve to be here. Keep your head held high love, and show no weakness to those who think you don't belong."
Nodding, Nyra straightened her back and put on a blank mask, trying to show that she belonged amongst the 'highest' that Westeros had to offer. Despite the rather tense atmosphere and the almost open hostility his wife was receiving from some of those who thought she did not belong; the evening was progressing along without issue. Which was of course right up until the Crown Prince rose to his feet, a smirk firmly on his face as he turned towards the Starks.
"I hear that congratulations are in order!" The Prince called out loudly, silencing almost all talk in the hall. "My future Warden of the North has found a bride from Volantis and married her. Though it's sad that they did not notify the Crown of such a marriage, I suppose I cannot find fault with my future Warden's choice in bride! And not only that, but I have heard that my future Warden of the South has been betrothed to a wolf as well! Lady Sansa Stark! The so-named great healer, though I do wonder if that title is more than a bit—"
"Sit down and shut up, Joffrey," Robert hissed, rising to his feet and all but pushing the crown prince back down into his seat before addressing the hall. "It is indeed as my son has said, for those of you who do not know. Lord Robb Stark has recently wed the Lady Talisa Maegyr from Volantis, with full knowledge and consent of the crown. And indeed, the Lady Sansa Stark has been betrothed to Lord Willas Tyrell. And as for the Lady Sansa's gifts…well she has no need to show us what she can do. The words of her father and Lord Nox are more than enough."
There was a round of polite applause as the King retook his seat, looking more than slightly offput at having been put on the spot like that as he tried to keep the crown prince from causing an incident. Turning his attention towards Sansa, he could feel her indignation at the crown prince's doubtful words about her ability. While she wasn't overly prideful or boastful, she was still very much a wolf at heart that would not let such doubt about what she could do remain for long. "I…do not mind providing an example of my gifts, your grace. Indeed, Lady Nyra Nox and my own betrothed Lord Willas Tyrell have already been recipients of what I can do. But should the crown prince require more, I will oblige the crown's request. Yet I fear that there are none here who are in need of my abilities at the moment, your grace. Perhaps in the coming days there will be chance to show his grace what I can do with my gift."
Nox had to fight the smirk from showing on his face as he felt satisfaction seeping from the crown prince. The boy was clearly trying to humiliate or discredit the Starks and himself publicly. But his chosen method was sloppy. Inexperienced. And it was going to backfire on him spectacularly. "No need to wait," the crown prince smirked, motioning towards the guards that were lining the walls of the hall. "Dog! Get over here. Perhaps the Lady Stark can finally do something about your face!"
From the line of guards, a large and imposing man clad in heavy dark plated armor made his way forward. Nox could feel the man's anger, his pain… An effect of the heavy scarring that marred half the man's face. 'Ser Sandor Clegane,' Nox thought, instantly recognizing the man as he walked forward. 'And your inexperience in matters of the 'game' shows itself…'prince'. You've just handed us an asset on the silver platter.'
All noise in the hall quieted as Sansa rose to her feet and approached the imposing man. With her head barely reaching the man's midsection, Sansa had to tilt her head back quite far to look at the man's scarred face. "If you would please, ser knight." Sansa said calmly, raising her hand towards Sandor's face, which was just out of reach for her.
"I'm no knight, girl," Sandor grumbled, his attention flickering towards the King before sighing and going down to one knee before Sansa.
Raising her hand to his face, Sansa slowly pushed the man's hair out of the way so that his scars were fully on display for all to see. It was not a pleasant sight, that much Nox could tell even without his eyes. Burn wounds never were. And he could sense that even though the wounds were decades old, they still ached and cause the man no small amount of discomfort and even pain at times. Sansa's hand faltered slightly as she took in the full scale of the scarring.
"What's the matter, Lady Stark?" the crown prince called from his place next to the King. "Too much ugliness for you to handle?"
Steeling herself, Sansa shook her head. "No, your grace. Scars are not ugly and should not be held against those who have them."
With a deliberate slowness of an experienced performer, Sansa reached out and pressed her hand fully against the scars on Clegane's face. There was a sudden intake of breath from nearly all save those of the North as a light greenish glow surrounded Sansa's hand, encompassing the scars on Clegane's face. The boastful and smug sensation fled from the crown prince in an instant as the light grew brighter and brighter like a signal fire before suddenly disappearing. As Sansa lowered her hand, Ned was immediately on his feet and next to his daughter in an instant.
"I'm alright, father," Sansa said lowly, just loud enough for the two of them to truly hear her words as she fought against the exhaustion the act of healing had set upon her. "We…must not show weakness."
Nodding, and more than slightly proud of his daughter, Ned held his hand back and let Sansa stand on her own before the kneeling man. Turning, Sansa made a curtsey to the royal family as the murmuring in the hall began once again. "I hope that this display was satisfactory to the crown, your grace."
Blinking in confusion, Sandor raised a hand and touched at the scars on his face. Or, more accurately, where the scars on his face used to be. Rising quickly Sandor rushed to the nearest silver pitcher of water and picked it up so that he could stare at his reflection. The low murmuring of the crowd rose in volume as Sandor's now healed face was revealed to all. Lowering the pitcher back to the table, Sandor turned towards Sansa. The large man seemed at a complete loss for words as he beheld the young girl who had just taken away the scars that'd haunted him for nearly his entire life. Unable to come up with anything, Sandor dropped to a knee before Sansa and bowed his head lowly. "My lady…I…thank you."
Smiling, Sansa nodded before turning and making her way back to her seat. The only show of the toll that'd been taken on her was when she sat down a bit quicker than normal, and her posture laxed more than usual. But other than that, Sansa held her own, fighting against showing any weakness.
Leaning back in his own seat, Nox let his attention float over the royal family as Sandor, still touching his face, made his way back to his place amongst the guards. The King was pleased with the display, and at the same time furious with Joffrey for putting Sansa on the spot like that. The Queen was…interesting. The Queen was furious and…jealous and…buried within those emotions was a sense of desire. Not for Sansa herself, but for control. The Queen wanted to control Sansa. And the others. Letting his attention pass onto the Crown Prince, Nox frowned as he found that Joffrey had all the Force sensitivity of a rock. But despite his lack of Force sensitivity, he could easily sense the boy's frustration and anger at having his plan, if it could even be called that, backfire on him. And there was something else within the boy. Something Nox recognized. A desire to be recognized. But more concerning to Nox was the…cruelty he could sense within the boy. That cruelty, combined with the boy's intense desire for recognition was a bad combination. And there was something else. Something…off about the boy.
After training Gendry for years, he'd forged an Acolyte bond with the boy and knew the boy almost inside and out. And, despite only having a few interactions with the King over the years, he could sense aspects of the King within Gendry. Yet with Joffrey…he sensed none of it. The boy simply didn't…feel like the King. He was all his mother and then some. Not necessarily unheard of as children could often take after one parent more than the other. But for there to be next to nothing of the King within the boy was an oddity. Extending his senses over Tommen and Myrcella, his confusion was compounded as he once again failed to truly sense anything of the King within the children. 'Curious…' Nox thought, recognizing the implications of what he was sensing. He would have to find more of Robert's children to make sure of what he was sensing…but he was fairly certain he found the catalyst for the war in the south. A war that was unavoidable no matter what he did. The only thing he could do was make sure to minimalize the potential damage to his own when the war started.