Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Sylune, Stilinski Spike, May 1013 AN

It was early in the morning and birds were chirping lively. The sun was rising in the Valley and many small peoples were already working, making the city and its surroundings come to life with its lenient warmth. Spring in Sylune brought mostly good weather, sunny with some soft rains for the fields. It gave peasants hope of a good harvest that would feed their children and fill their pockets with gold. The city and district gates were already open in the Holy City.

Sylune is the capital of the Holy Kingdom, and it is the biggest and wealthiest city in the known world. Sylune is around three millennia old and was founded in the Six Hills of Clearwaters by a Council of Syn and Saur leaders that unified the Eastern Lands for the first time. Today, Queen Claudia IV of house Stilinski rules from the Royal Palace located in the Inner District, in the center of the city, but the institution of the Council persists as royal advisors. Sylune is shaped like a hexagram, a six-pointed star that is the sign for White Magic and casts a spell of protection and health over the city. It's split in two parts, West and East, by the river Clearwaters, which flows into The Strait, a stretch of sea that separates the Eastern Lands from the mysterious Western Lands. Little is known about them other than the portuary city-state of Pentos that stands on the other end of The Strait and frequently trades with Sylune.

Inside the walls there's the Low District, mostly populated by small peoples; and the Inner District, also shaped like an hexagon, where the Royal Palace is located. The triangle-shaped Districts outside the Low District are called Spikes and there are six of them, one for each hill. They are mostly inhabited by noble Sylunite families and have palaces for representatives of other important families in other regions, such as the North. 

The Stilinski Palace, inhabited by the Princes, is located in the South-West Spike. Stuart and Stiles had just had breakfast and were sitting in the balcony, looking at the few ships in the Strait carrying cargo to lands afar, and looking content after a good meal. A servant came refill their cups with juice, and when he was done, Stuart dismissed him for the time being.

"Go away now."

The servant nodded, looked down agitated and left quietly.

Stiles looked at his brother, sitting in the opposing end of the table, and sighed. 

"What?" Stuart raised an eyebrow.

"Don't worry about it.", Stiles said. "I'm going to do some reading on wound care for the morning."

"Boring, little brother.", Stuart smirked.

Stiles rolled his eyes. "We're the same age!"

Stuart laughed and took off, leaving for his room.

*

For the rest of the morning, Stiles practiced his White Magic by tending to some of the servants' wounds in his own chambers, where the bed hadn't been unmade in a long time. The room was tidy and tranquil, which he needed. Stilinski monarchs also held the title of Father or Mother of the kingdom, the spiritual guides of the people and leaders of the Cult of the Light. Basic white magic had been taught to both him and Stuart, the heir to the crown, in their childhood. But Stiles felt genuinely drawn to the light and studied on his own to enhance his healing and protection skills. Stuart, on the other hand, found it bland and useless, and felt more drawn to destructive power.

By midday, Stiles was tending to a girl's wrist pain when Sir Parrish knocked on his door. 

"Your Highness?"

"Yes, come in, Parrish. What's the matter?" he said, as he inspected the girl's reddened wrist. When he touched, she hissed and moved it away. "Ouch."

"The Prince wants to see you. He's waiting for you, he says it's urgent."

Stiles met Parrish's look and nodded absentmindedly. "Tell him I'll be there as soon as I'm done with what I'm doing."

Parrish nodded, bowed, and left. "Yes, Your Highness."

Stiles looked at the girl and grinned. "Okay, try to hold still."

He began casting the spell, bringing a warm white light to her wrist where he grabbed it with his own hands and slowly the girl's pain dissipated.

Five minutes later, as he was finishing and the girl stood up to leave, someone came in through the door without knocking. It was Stuart.

"What the hell is taking so long?", he inquired, apparently upset.

Stiles looked back at him from the shelf. "I was just finishing with this girl."

Stuart turned his look at her, and she quickly stared down at her own feet, blushing. "M'sorry."

"Well, well," he took a step closer to her, and she stayed in place, nervous. "and what were you doing that kept you so busy?"

"I was taking care of her wrist pain.", Stiles said, walking to the girl's side, and crossing his arms. "What's the matter?"

"I was talking to you", Stuart said, and took the girl's wrist. 

"I- it... it's true, what h-he said."

"Stuart, enough, I was just practicing my skills."

Stuart pondered the words. "Fair enough. How about I cut her wrist again and you show me that amazing white sorcery?"

The girl took her hand back and raised her head, face pale and fear visible. 

"Stuart!"

"M- my Prince, I didn't mean t-to..."

Stuart laughed loudly. "I was just joking, brother!"

Stiles was visibly irritated. Stuart kept smirking. He turned to look at the girl again, who averted her gaze. "Leave now before I change my mind."

She took a few steps and then just ran away, and he was left with Stiles in the room.

Stiles ran his hands through his hair and went by the window above the table, giving his back to Stuart. He didn't sit, just stayed there. He sighed and absently ran his fingers through the cover of a very dusty and old book, looking up at the sea in the distance. Stuart followed and hugged him from behind, pressing himself against his back and running his nose through Stiles's neck, which was tense, but he let himself do. Stiles brought his hands up to meet Stuart's forearms, intending to have him take them off, "Stuart..."

"Yesterday, you said you liked me intimidating.", Stuart whispered in his ear, so softly it sounded like a plea.

Stiles hands' froze. He hesitated from a moment, then bit his lower lip.

"You're impossible", Stiles finally said, grinning and turning his head to see Stuart's fond expression. "We should go back to your room, see what's so urgent."

Storm Cape, May 1013 AN

In the Marshlands, the fog customarily takes over in the dead of the night and stays for the early hours of the morning, scattering the first lights. It is a land of Saurs, home of the Scaled, the old dragon lords. Their draconic culture still stays strong after the extinction of southern dragons hundreds of years ago, although its glory has dimmed. Draconic is spoken in little towns and as a local language in the capital, Storm Cape, along with the standard language of the Holy Kingdom, Vallese; and the Light isn't worshipped as much as the Cult of Fire, which honors the elements in the form of Fiery Spirits. 

Storm Cape stands ominous in the damp and salty marshes that surround it, in a homonymous cape where land invades sea and sea claims land. Narrow paths that are ill-lit with tar torches and magical fires lead the way into the capital. Deep in the night, at the gates of the city, titanic dragon fangs serve as columns and their skulls as decorations. A cart also ornamented in a draconian and fiery fashion crosses the marsh to get into the city, carrying Storm’s Cape most prominent family and the regional lords, the Argents. Lord Gerard Argent, the head of the family and Lord of Storm Cape; Lady Victoria Argent, his daughter-in-law; and Lady Allyson Argent, Victoria’s only daughter and Gerard’s heir.  

The Argents had stayed in the capital, Sylune, for a time and left last week for a short visit to Storm Cape before returning for the Council of Nobles. Gerard’s son and Allyson’s father, Sir Christopher, was a member of the Queen’s Guard and was, consequently, always in Sylune. In Storm Cape, Lady Kate Argent, Chris’s younger sister, had ruled instead of her father and seemed to be handling it quite well.

When they arrived the fires in the Argent residence burned strong in the darkness and night mist, otherwise only illuminated intermittently by the distant thundering from the Bay of Storms, where east of the city river Tornys had its mouth. Other families in the city seemed to be asleep already, but the Argents had just come and their servants were still unpacking. High in the tower, Kate and the three of them sat in a wooden table. They spoke Draconic, Kate had probably only spoken that in a long time, isolated from Valley people. 

“So, Kate, how have things been running around here… anything of note?”

“Smoothly, of course, father”, she responded. “Nothing interesting. How’s Chris enjoying himself as the royal family’s dog in the City of Light?”, and she made Sylune’s title look like an insult.

All the Argents were bilingual, but Allyson was accustomed to speaking Vallese from being in Sylune and having friends there anyway. In addition, she was bored and tired so her attention went elsewhere, to Kate’s hand resting in a very old book, written in Old Draconic, a language which had been dead for more than a thousand years. She couldn’t understand it, not fully, but she gathered some words from the golden letters carved in the leather worn-out cover, and read Dominion over Dragons and Bloodlust. The Argent library was rich in such Scaled books from its Saur heritage.

Kate and Gerard talked and laughed and Victoria often chimed in. They were living in Sylune, she understood, to ingratiate themselves with the Queen. Allyson wasn’t stupid; she knew that meant she may be Queen some day, but she refused to let herself think about marrying Stuart Stilinski, whom she loathed. Her interests were elsewhere.

Kate saw her staring intently at the book and looked at her, moving it away. She addressed her niece in Vallese, teasing her from her disconnection from the conversation.

“Sweetheart, how were things in Sylune for you? Made any new friends?”

Allyson raised her eyebrows, but decided to humor her anyway.

“Actually, the capital is not that bad. It’d help clear your head from all this foggy weather.”

Victoria smiled at the comment and Gerard chuckled. Kate smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Maybe you need to learn to enjoy this weather; after all you may one day rule this city.”

Allyson didn’t want to go there, and she knew Kate would gleefully keep ruling the south anyway, so she wanted Allyson in the crown. She chose to ignore the topic.

“Archery training in the capital went well, didn’t it?”, her mother added.

Gerard intervened. “She did quite well, she’s becoming a true Argent.”

“Is that so? And, do you have any other… entertainment?”, Kate added, looking at her.

“I have friends, but my focus is on training every day. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m tired and I want to get up early tomorrow. Goodnight”

 They nodded and she left for her chambers, walking through a long and dark hall where she stumbled upon Kate’s open door. She couldn’t resist peeking in, the voices of the adults lost in the distance.

In a table, an object caught her attention. She felt drawn, so she walked towards it. There were more Old Draconic books around but she could only stare at the red orb there, with a bronze handle and coiled loops at each side, decorated with dragon heads and claws carved in the metal. She touched it and felt the object’s energy and power. She was drawn out of her trance when she heard the voices from the tower louder, so she walked away to her room, in the same corridor, and closed the door. She overheard the adults talking about Sylune affairs.

“So, what about the Boltons?” Kate asked.

“They seem reasonable for being Syns, which is good”, Gerard added. “With Deucalion’s suggestion, I see no reason Claudia wouldn’t accept our proposal.”

“That’s good. I feel bad for the poor girl, though. The Prince’s a spoiled brat who toys with power he can’t handle.”

Victoria joined the conversation. “I just wish she’d focus more on her Saur duties and was less distracted by her little Vallese friends.”

Gerard sighed, she imagined he nodded. “We’ll see how wise the Queen really is.”

Allyson knew they were talking about her. She rested her back against the door, and sighed herself, rubbing her knuckles against her closed eyelids, She automatically undressed and went to bed, covering herself in furs because the night was chilly. She knew Gerard wanted her family to enter the royal bloodline, by making her Stuart’s Queen. In addition, that would free her from being Lady of Storm Cape, the position Kate would gleefully accept. Staying in Sylune had made her more disinterested in her Saur duties, as her mother would say. She got along well with her friends there; Lady Martin, Prince Stiles, although not his brother, the Crown Prince… and the little Prince’s squire, a sweet boy named Scott.

But that night she was agitated, and even when her body caught up and she fell asleep, her mind was uneasy. Her uncertain future loomed above her, and all the Saur obligations she hadn’t thought about in Sylune haunted her in her dreams. She dreamed of the red orb, of fire and blood in ages past when the Salthariens, tyrannic Scaled from Storm Cape, the former lords before the Argents, ruled Sylune in an empire of terror. She dreamed of Belerion, the only remaining dragon, which Stuart rode among the flames.

Winterfell, May 1013 AN

The North is the largest region in the Holy Kingdom and lies beyond Clearwaters and the Valley. It’s the ancestral home of the Syns. The oldest ruling Syn family is the Hale family, lords of Winterfell; loved and famed as good rulers and fierce warriors. Tales are told throughout the North that they can turn into wolves themselves and howl at the full moon every month. The North is divided in three lands: the Dark Lands, where Winterfell stands; the Grizzly Hills, where the Boltons are a prominent family, north of Clearwaters, and Osternis, west of Clearwaters and Sylune, which is technically administrated with Grizzly Hills although it’s a region of Vallese heritage. These lands that border with Clearwaters have a history of long disputes between Syn and Saur dominance and are multicultural, with mixed towns.

In the North and a most of Grizzly Hills Iberish, the language of the North, and native tongue to the Hales, is spoken. Other than that, Vallese is common, and virtually the only language in Osternis especially surrounding Sylune and the mouth of Clearwaters. West of that, tall and rocky cliffs fend off the coastline of The Strait.

Night falls later in spring, although never very late in the North, a cold land of steppes and woods not very touched by the sun. The Hale siblings are in the woods around Winterfell staring at the full moon. Cora is sitting in a rock, sharpening her blade with a blue magical stone that gives it a permanent cold power, making it freeze whatever it cuts. Derek sits with his back against a tree, looking up at the moon with a forlorn look in his eyes, resenting arranged marriages that only ever take people you love away.

Laura looks up at the sky too, dressed in her armor from having trained all evening. She’s nicknamed the young wolf and is truly a daughter of her mother, Lady Talia Hale of Winterfell, alpha of the family.

In the distance she sees two men approaching, talking and laughing, which turn out to be Lord David Hale, her father, and Lord Peter Hale, her uncle, younger brother of Talia. They had been the ones training with her and her brothers that evening.

“Your mother wants to see you, Laura”, Peter said. “As for all of you”, he pointed at Derek and Cora, who looked back at him, “you should rest. Tomorrow you leave for Sylune.”

“I can sleep on the way, I like it here now.”, Cora blurted, with her usual disregard for what the older people have to say.

Derek smiled inwardly. “We’ll go soon, don’t worry.”

“Don’t be late, kids”, David added. “And, Laura, meet me in five minutes at the gates.”

“Yes, father”, she said. David and Peter nodded at her. Peter gave Derek and Cora one last once-over, flashing his eyes blue, and turned to leave too.

“What do you think she wants?”, Cora asked her.

“Well, what do you think?” Laura said, annoyed at Cora for some reason. “We leave tomorrow! And there’s a Council the first day of June. Even the Argents will be there.”

“Ugh, Saurs”, Cora said, making a disgusted face.

Derek chuckled and looked fondly at her. “Cora, the Princes have come of age. You know what that means, right?”

She sighed. “Yes, yes, I’m not an idiot. Marriages nobody likes.”

Laura clenched her fist. “Cora, I know mother and the Queen want the best for the Kingdom. Syn blood in the royal family has always been a dangerous gamble, but I think this could be the right timing. The Hales would enter the royal bloodline, and the Argents would be kept at bay, if what I heard is true.”

“What did you hear?”, Cora asked.

“Probably just rumors”, Derek dismissed, flashing his blue eyes at Laura too, and Laura met his stare with an icy one of her own, but whatever was left unsaid must have sunk in because she just turned back.

“It’s nothing, Cora. Just, well, be prepared… remember mother loves you.”

Laura turned their backs to them and left, the sound of her metal armor clashing against the silent night. Her cape moved with the light breeze and she carried her wolf head helmet in her hand, still clenching her other fist.

“Spit it out”, Cora said.

Derek sighed, stood up and went where he was, kneeling down to kiss her cheek. “Laura’s the heir to Winterfell. That means any of us could have to marry someone else. That’s all.”

Cora looked at him, ready to retaliate, but when she saw the soft look in his eyes she just nodded and looked away. The Hale siblings really cared for each other, even if they fought and teased each other all the time.

Derek stood up again and tapped his thigh armor, looking at Winterfell in the horizon and the white moon above it in the cloudless night sky. “We should actually get some sleep.”

Cora picked her sword and sharpening blue stone and went with him.

*

Within the gates, David was standing, with a torch in his hand and his sword sheathed in his left side, waiting for Laura. He saw his firstborn daughter come and felt proud of the woman she’d become.

“Daughter,” he said, his voice firm and his look kind, resting a hand on her shoulder armor, “your mother is waiting inside. Don’t make her wait.”

She smiled and rested her own hand over his. “I’ll get going then”, she said, and then walked forward. Before she went out of sight, though, she heard his voice once again.

“Laura,”

“Yes?”

“Always remember where you come from. No matter where you are or what you have to do, be a true Syn.”

“Yes, father”, she said, and continued walking, taking her hand to her heart.

David smiled.

*

Peter and Talia were inside, and Peter was just leaving as she came in. He was grinning and Talia seemed annoyed, something typical among them.

“I hope the capital isn’t too bad, sister. I’ll miss you.”

“I’m sure you’ll cope, Peter. Try not to cause more trouble that you solve in the meantime.”

Laura stared at him, but he just smiled back at her and left, patting her shoulder. When he closed the door behind him, Talia looked up at her daughter.

“Mother, what did you want to say?”

“Well, as you know we’re leaving tomorrow, I wanted to talk about a few things. But I actually wanted to give you something.”

“And what would that be?”

Talia motioned for Laura to handle her training sword, and she did.  “You’re a full Syn woman now. You’re my daughter, Laura, and when I’m gone, you’ll be the Lady of Winterfell and you will have to take care of your family and the fate of the North.”

“I will, mother. I will honor the Hale name I proudly carry.”

“I know you love your family, dear.” She went to the other side of the table to stand by her side and take her hand for a moment. Then Talia faced her, picking up a beautiful and magnificent sword from the table.

“But I trust you to fight if the time comes. There are dangerous peoples, both Saur and Syn, and we have to defend those we love. You and Derek have to take care of each other and your little sister.”

Laura nodded. She and Derek were twins, and she was the firstborn, but they did everything together and shared a strong bond. Only one could inherit, though, and they knew that well. It had never been easy for any of them, much less their mother, but they had come to terms with it.

Then Talia extended her hands, holding the sword by the hilt and with the palm of her other hand, offering the silvery blade which reflected the oil lamps’ light from within the room. It was sharp and shiny, and the hilt was decorated with a wolf head and fangs, in clear gray and white, with two small blue stones for the eyes. “This is Icefang, our family’s sword. It’s wielded by our family’s alpha each generation, and now I give it to you.”

Laura’s face went blank, and she almost shook, but she kept it together. “Mother… this…”

Talia smiled fondly at her. “You deserve it, Laura; you’re as fierce as any Hale and have a kind heart to add to it. Take it for me, for us.”

She agreed and took the sword, admiring it and feeling its vibrant power. She inspected it closely, finally leaving it aside to embrace her mother. They sighed contently in each other’s arms.

“Who were you talking about before, mother?”

“Peter has told me the Boltons are up to something with the Argents, or so has he heard, but it is only rumors. It’s still clear that Boltons have no honor, though, so one can never be too careful. Listen to me, Laura, when I say what I do is for the good of the Kingdom and our family.”

“I know, mother. Is this about Cora? Or Derek?”

“I’m planning with the Queen to make Cora the Princess.”

“I understand. Saur and Syn, to bring forth peace. Ewyn’s dream. But how can Cora ever…? And the Argents…”

Talia rested one of her hands on the wooden table and looked at Laura hesitant. “We don’t know. We need to hope for the best. Stuart we must be wary of too. I don’t think the kid’s as bad as some say, he’s Claudia’s son after all, but I want the best for Cora. It’s precisely because of the Argents this cannot go any other way. Maybe he and Cora can work… it’s our only hope. Claudia and I have been looking at the issue over and over. Prince Stiles will marry Allyson Argent, and Sylune will have the Saurs more in line even in the South when they return to Storm Cape. Gerard won’t take it well.”

Laura just hugged her mother again, resting her head in the crook of her neck. “I know this is the best solution. I hope Cora will understand.”

“Don’t trouble yourself with this anymore, Laura, and rest for tomorrow.”

“Yes, mother. Goodnight as well. I will see you early.”

*

Back in her chambers, Laura couldn’t sleep so she went to Derek’s room and got into bed with him. He was awake as well, and looked at her from the side, his head resting in the soft pillow and body covered in furs.

“Mother gave me Icefang.”

His expression lit, and he squeezed her shoulder. “I’m so proud of you.”

She smiled. “I know. But not all is happy news. Mother confirmed to me what we’d been thinking…”

Derek’s face fell, and he stared at the ceiling. Then he sat on the bed and lay back against the headboard, looking at the window. “Why can’t the Prince be a little more like Claudia. For once I hoped someone followed the Light more fervently.”

“Stuart’s a spoiled Brat, and Stiles may be better, but he follows him around in everything.”

Derek looked down at her, and put his hand on her head, softly caressing her hair. “That one thing I don’t blame on the kid. You know what it’s like with twins and being together. Not everybody can understand that.”

“I know”, Laura said, “…but I’ve heard… more disturbing things about their closeness.”

Derek raised an eyebrow, “and what would that be?”

Laura smirked. “Let’s say, if it was up to Stuart, he’d make Stiles his Queen”

Derek looked taken aback and horrorized, as his eyes went wide. “What?! Is Stuart that sick?”

“I don’t know, it’s all rumors. What I know is that Stuart likes to play with fire and I want the best for Cora.”

Derek still seemed in shock, but came back to the world when he heard his little sister’s name. “Saur and Syn… to bring forth peace.”

He grunted, “I just want to tear apart the Prince. I’d rather she marry an Argent.”

He chuckled at his own joke. Laura laughed at that and they soon fell back into place and sleep came. Both dreamt of the North, cold winter nights with a full moon like the one still shining in the sky, high, and of wolves running through the northern forest; led by a red-eyed alpha she-wolf with her mate, her blue-eyed brother and her three cubs behind, two yellow-eyed and one blue-eyed as well. Derek smiled happy in his sleep and held closer to his sister.

Sylune, Valley Spike, May 1013 AN

Lydia had Meredith braid her hair that morning in her chambers, so her mother wouldn’t bugger her, and went down to the library with her. Lady Lydia Martin was the beautiful and sought-after daughter of Lord Richard Martin and Lady Natalie Martin. Lord Martin was the richest noble in the North-East Spike of Sylune, the Valley Spike, opposite to the Stilinski Spike, and one of the richest in the whole city itself.

The Valley was a wide, green and fertile region that composed most of the Holy Kingdom and was home to different peoples, including Syns and Saurs but also other populations that settled in between and inhabited the Valley and its shires peacefully attempting to avoid conflict, but never succeeding.

The Martin family was of old noble blood, not Saur or Syn, from the ancient capital of the Valley, millennia before the present when Sylune was founded and the Kingdom unified. This city was Viridia and wasn’t far from Sylune, further inland in The Meadows. With the rise Sylune, most of the noble families in the Valley, especially the wealthiest, moved from Viridia and now the city is still second to only Sylune in the Valley but much quieter. It held a very old library, the biggest in the Valley at one time, with books in Old Dynic, the dead language Vallese comes from spoken in past times all around The Valley; these dealt with a variety of natural disciplines and magical wisdom alike, including the darker arts it was taboo to speak of.

The Martins had such old books with few copies in other places, even in Sylune. And Lydia was not only a beautiful face; she was a talented wizard and interested in learning of all kinds, be it the natural skills, old languages and the astral lore that came from delving in the arcane secrets of magic.

She knew how to hold herself together in public and be everything that was expected from a court lady, but there was more to her life than chatting and strolling, and she used her time to study things that caught her interest, including those that others disapprove of. Maybe, she thought, there was some appeal to the forbidden fruit after all.

Lydia opened her book and began reading. Most of it she already knew. The darker arts, necromancy, included magic that involved life and death, control over the mind and power to devastate both body and soul, power that enthralled every curious mind with enough intellect to grasp it. 

Meredith was sorting books on a shelf, trying to find the one Lydia had instructed her to. Meredith was from a town in the shire known as Dawn Fields, close to Dragon’s End, the ridge of mountains that separated the Valley from what was beyond in the East. That would be the eerie and unforgiving Moon Desert; with miles of grey sand dunes, silence and bones.

Dragon’s End held a millenary community of necromancers, the Siblings of Nyx, from which Lydia had subreptiously acquired the best quality books recently and improved a lot on her basic control of basic spells. She was no expert yet, but she would be, she was convinced.

“Is this the one you wanted, my lady?” Meredith asked.

“Yes, thank you, Mer.”, Lydia said, nodding and taking the book.

“What does the title read?”, Meredith asked, looking at her and pointing at the golden words on the cover.

Lydia’s eyes widened at her curiosity. Meredith was usually quiet and seemed to be somewhere else most of the time, but it was good to remember she was actually brighter and more observant than most servants. She considered her a friend.

“That’s not the title, actually. That’s the source… all their books are marked like this. This one is from the Siblings of Nyx.”

Meredith took his hand off and shivered. She looked at her directly, squeezing her hand tightly; sometimes she was unpredictable.

“Lydia, why do you read so much about them? Trust me when I say nothing good comes out of Dragon’s End. My parents were from the last town before the mountains, Dawn Gallows. I saw them desecrating the graveyard for corpses.” She was more distressed as she spoke.

“Meredith, calm down”, Lydia reassured her, “I’m not going to take anybody’s ancestors from the graveyard. But they study death, and why would it be more dangerous to know than not to if it is out there?”

Lydia knew little towns were superstitious, but there’s not much she could say to comfort her. Meredith brought her hands to her own skirt and grabbed at the fabric as she bit her lower lip, and looked away.

“I wish you had half the interest for lords that suit you than you have for the Prince. I just don’t want you to end up hurting yourself because you do as he says. He’s just using you.”

Lydia knew that Meredith knew the book was for Stuart too, but she genuinely had interest in the subject as well, aside from her interest in Stuart. Lydia was angered at the suggestion.

“Meredith, I don’t think it’s your place to make judgments like that!”

Lydia looked at Meredith, that looked ashamed and on the verge of tears, and understood she just cared for her. Lydia got up and had her do the same, hugging her. She whispered in her ear, soothing her. “Sorry. I know I don’t have many chances of being Stuart’s Queen; but trust me, he’s not using me. I know what I’m doing, and I’m not insane. Neither is he, he’s just… hard to deal with. There are apparently nice people in the Council that are true serpents. I wish it wasn’t all such a masquerade.”

Meredith nodded and they stayed like that for a while. “It’d just be so much easier if you corresponded Jackson. Or the little Prince.”

Lydia sighed, “It’s complicated.”

After the incident, Lydia read with her for the rest of the morning, making notes and comments and then taking the book back to her chambers. She knew Lord Jackson Whittemore was coming by at midday and wanted to be prepared for going out to take a stroll in her District’s numerous gardens.

*

Jackson woke up that morning at home, in the Valley Saur Spike, pointing at the East, where the Whittemore residence was. He had Isaac, his squire, shave him and then put on his shining new armor, in both gold and olive colors. Green themed armors were typical of families of Saur heritage, such as the Whittemores. Their ancestral home was the shire of Rocky Coast, east of Sylune and the transition between the Valley and the Marshlands, and consequently rich in Saur population that belonged to the Valley and spoke in Vallese. The Whittemores had been Sylunite for almost as much time as the Martins and their name had only been blemished recently.

Jackson Whittemore was a bastard, legitimized by royal decree from Queen Claudia IV as a favor to the Whittemore marriage. The Whittemores had it all, vast amounts of money, health, good looks… but Lady Rose Whittemore couldn’t bear children, or so was rumored, and one day Lord Andrew Whittemore came to Sylune with a baby. He never told anyone who the mother was, and he raised him as his own children, but he wasn’t a very good father – he believed luxury was enough to raise a kid.

Lady Whittemore always resented her adoptive son, a constant reminded of the shame brought upon her by her husband, and even if Claudia’s decision had been the best for the family honor, it was still beyond her to raise the kid. Jackson, in turn, wasn’t a very loving child either, resenting his parents for their loveless marriage and for having him be a bastard. He was still determined to not let that interfere with his goals, though.

“I’ll be leaving now, father. I’m taking Lydia Martin for a stroll.”

Jackson left his residence and crossed the stone bridge that connected the East and North-East districts. It ran directly above the city’s main gates, the ones that led to the Path of Ashes, the biggest road in the Kingdom which connected Winterfell and Sylune. A thousand years ago, the last Saltharien monarch, Aeron VII, freed his crazed dragon, Nessaria, against the Northern Kingdom in a desire to exterminate all Syns. His plan backfired, and the dragon, in a frenzy, decimated both armies and burned the Valley down to Sylune, which he then also set in flames, killing many small peoples and nobles families alike; including Aeron himself.

When hope was lost, history accounts, a young Holy Mage from Sylune with old Saur blood managed to soothe Nessaria and tame her, and would become her rider. He was no other than Ewyn Stilinski, the first monarch of the Stilinski dynasty that lasted until the present. He vowed to unify Syns and Saurs to end war in the Kingdoms and readmitted Syns in the Valley, leading to the present day. Today, Claudia IV rules in Sylune and Belerion, a direct descendant of Nessaria, is kept in the Royal Palace, the last dragon.

Jackson gazes at the horizon, under the warm midday sun, as the grey path loses itself in the distance, and thinks of Northern lands and savage Syns. He feels no sympathy for Syns, but neither does he feel belonging in his own family. He has always felt a misfit, but he hides it well. He dislikes other Saurs almost as much.

Jackson looked back at the bridge. “Do you think she’ll like the necklace?”

“They’re beautiful, my Lord.”

“Of course she’ll do”, Jackson said to himself, and kept walking proud.

He crossed the bridge and soon arrived at Lydia’s District and her own residence. He got past the guards and Isaac stayed outside.

The servants in the Martin residence warned Lydia of his presence and soon she and Meredith came down the central staircase in the reception.

Lydia walked down the stairs joylessly, but she smiled nevertheless when she got down and kissed Jackson to greet him.

“You’re so beautiful today”, he said, “I’ve gotten you a present.”

She raised her eyebrow. “Have you?”

He nodded and motioned with his pointer finger for Isaac to come in. He quickly came, handed Lydia the necklace and bowed awkwardly, looking at the ground before taking some steps back to fall back in place at Jackson’s side.     

She looked at it, unfazed, and then handed it to Meredith.

“Thank you a lot. It must’ve costed a fortune.”

“Well, that’s not really something that bothers our families.”

“Most certainly. Too bad we can’t buy more influence in the Council.”

He grinned. “You’re always so concerned about boring topics. Aren’t you going to put it on?”

“If you insist… Mer, put on the necklace, please.”

Meredith ensued as Jackson looked sideways awkwardly, holding his helmet closer to his body. When she was done, he smiled and she returned it, and then they began walking outside as she led the way to the door.

Soon they were strolling through the Valley Spike gardens, one of the most beautiful in all of Sylune, filled with colorful flowers and the sound of singing birds. Jackson spoke first.

“You haven’t said anything about my new armor.”

She squinted her eyes at him as she looked sideways. “I guess that costed a fortune as well?”

He sighed, “You can’t cut me some slack, can you.”

She stopped walking and turned to face him. “Jackson, I know why you’ve come today.”

He stopped as well, and let out a deeper sigh, suddenly finding a small stone the most interesting thing in the world, as he played with it with his foot. “Well, yes, our fathers met yesterday.”

“We’re going to be betrothed”, he said, simply, and she nodded. She looked away and then back at him.

“I’ve known this would happen for a long time. But, Jackson, you know this doesn’t change anything, don’t you?”

“I was hoping it would. Some day.”, he said, grabbing her by the wrist, and thumbing at a small thin silver bracelet with a black onyx on its center. “I’m not making you, but we have to marry; and so will your stupid King with someone else, I bet your friend Allyson… and you’re saying you’ll never move on?”

“Do you want me to lie about how I feel?”

“I want you to be reasonable.”, he said, standing closer to her and bringing her wrist up to his chest, squeezing harder. She refused the advances and moved her hand away suddenly, making the loose bracelet fall off.

“Sorry”, he said, and went down to pick it, inspecting it in the process. She brought her hand and bare wrist to her face and rubbed at her strawberry blonde hair, making a small mess of that side of it.

“Be more careful”, she spit out, taking it back and wearing it again.

“Who gave you that? Doesn’t seem like your mother’s taste in jewelry.”

“I don’t need anybody to give me things. It belonged to my father. And it’s not for me, actually. It’s for Stuart.”

Jackson’s expression became furious and his voice came out dry and rough. “That’s right there what I was talking about. Stop making a fool of yourself, you’re never going to be his Queen.”

“You’re the one being a jealous fool. Why are you so sure who the Queen will be? You’re as clueless on politics as is your father short on influence.”

“For Light’s sake, Lydia!”

“Besides, not everything that shines is there to look pretty”, she said, looking down briefly at his olive chestplate, “this bracelet has meaning and true power. But my mother hates it for some reason.”

“Why can’t you listen and have your family put some sense in your head? They only want the best for you.”

“Just stop! Everyone of you thinks you’re so clever and that I’m just a little girl that doesn’t know how to take care of herself. But you just hate Stuart for no reason.”

“Oh believe me I have reasons to hate the spoiled brat! He even got you into demonic magic. Do you want people who care about you to stand idle while you ruin yourself?”

“I’m not ruining myself!”, she screamed at him, outraged. “If any of you truly cared about me you’d see this is what I really want. But seeing as you’re so open-minded, I may as well explain it to a wall.”

“Well explain away, I’m listening”, he said, taking a deep breath and placing his hands in his hips, then motioning with one hand for her to carry on. She raised an eyebrow.

“Stuart’s not the way you picture him; I know him, he’s intelligent and funny, he just has a very odd sense of humor. And there’s nothing wrong with being interested in necromancy! Why wouldn’t I be? I like to know all kinds of magic. Are you that superstitious?”

He sighed. “I’m not, but you know I can’t be happy you two are friends. You won’t change my opinion on him. The guy’s an asshole to everyone.”

“So are you!”

“That’s not true! And well, why do you complain anyway, apparently you’re into that. Is it because I’m a bastard?”

She squinted her eyes and almost snapped at him for the suggestion, but just spoke very low. “I’m just into more than meets the eye. When you understand that we can be friends again.”

She tried to walk away, but he grabbed her by the arm and looked in her eyes, afraid. “Why can’t we just be happy together?”

A hint of sadness reached her eyes. “Jackson, I know we’re more than friends. We get each other. We don’t have to fake as much as we do in front of anybody else. So why would you do this to me?”

“Because I love you”, he said, hesitant, and looked at a tree.

“That’s the very reason you should stand with me.”, she said softly, and left.

*

Jackson went back home, defeated, pondering Lydia’s words. He’d never be able to get along with Stuart, and certainly Stuart wouldn’t spontaneously stop hating him, or everybody, overnight. But maybe he should pay attention to the Council that was coming up and why it was important for them. Politics had always bored Jackson, but he wasn’t naïve to think they weren’t vital and that their families were the last vote in Sylune. At this point, the Prince would either marry an Argent or a Hale. He just hoped Lydia would fall in love with him some day.

“Isaac, do you think I’m shallow?”

Isaac looked at him and his face went blank.

“Hmm… no, my lord, I think you’re very insightful.”

He sighed. “Thanks”, he said, and then patted him on the shoulders.

*

Lydia got back home with Meredith, and crossed a great wooden door to get to the dining room where she sat with her parents. They had a light chat about her imminent betrothal to Jackson and the upcoming Council, but they paid no attention when she tried to voice her opinion.

She didn’t even mention her morning reading, because she already knew how their parents would react. But they couldn’t forbid her, so she just finished her desert and left for her room. Meredith was away, probably sleeping, tired after all the morning work.

She sat down and decided to write a letter to Allyson and send it with a dove, it would arrive in a few days, and if she wrote back soon they’d talk to each other before Allyson arrived again in Sylune. Her friend was away in the Marshlands for a short trip, and then all the Argents would be back for the Council on the 1st of June. She took her feather from her ink pot and rested her hand on the blank piece of paper.

“I wish you were here, Ally…”

Sylune, Royal Palace, May 1013 AN

In the Throne Room, the magnificent and colored glass windows filtered the rays of the morning sun. The vaulted ceiling was high and filled with images of prominent people of the past: nobles, heroes, Stilinski monarchs…; there was no trace of any Saltharien. The Royal Palace, built in the Inner District of the city, wasn’t as old as the city itself, because the previous one was destroyed a thousand years ago when the dragon Nessaria devastated it. Sylune in the Saltharien Empire had a court with a draconic flavor and the Scaled and Saur peoples were favored.

The new one was rebuilt by Ewyn Stilinski, and the unified throne had only been sat by monarchs that ruled Syns and Saurs justly, and the people of the Valley admired his dynasty for his wisdom and devotion to peace and White Magic. The Cult of the Light, whose white shine was dimmed by the bloody fires of the dragons in the Valley, had become the prominent religion in the Holy Kingdom since then. The Saltharien worship of the Fiery Spirits was restricted to the Marshlands, and like Old Draconic and Scaled power, waned with the passing years. In the North, the worship of the Icy Spirits is old and strong, but since Syns returned to Grizzly Hills and the Valley many follow the path of the light as well.

The religion was personified in priests and priestesses, a clergy of White Mages that preached in the streets, tended to the sick and wounded and traveled to evangelize to all places of the Kingdom and beyond the sea. Chapels were a place of worship and some had assigned mages.

The head of the clergy were the Stilinski monarchs themselves, in this era Queen Claudia, Mother of the realm and Keeper of the peace. She had strived to uphold the good in her reign, spread the light and resolve the ever-existing tensions between Syns and Saurs. She had also provided the realm with an heir for when her days were over, Prince Stuart, and it pained her the most that he didn’t share her passion for the Light, unlike her other beloved son, Prince Stiles.

She was sitting in the Throne of Ewyn right now, hands clasped in a short prayer, and head low. She opened her eyes when she finished and pressed her hand to her chest, a symbol of respect for the Light.

The high wooden doors at the end of the long room opened and King John appeared with Sir Parrish and Sir Christopher by his side. They were the top commanders in the Queen’s guard, the Royal Family’s personal defense and escort. The King strolled decidedly towards the throne, to greet his Queen and Wife. John had formerly been a knight to Claudia’s father, but then he married the Queen in a marriage that not all of the Sylunite elite approved because of the circumstances. Royal marriages are rarely approved of. Claudia and him got their way, in the end.

The three of them stopped when they reached the steps to the throne platform, and the Queen rose. Christopher and Parrish knelt and the Queen came down to place a kiss on the King’s cheek, then they both smiled.

“Hello, Sir Christopher. Hello, Sir Parrish.”

They rose and nodded.

“Good morning, your Holiness”, Christopher replied.

“The Princes are here”, Parrish quickly added, looking at her.

“I’ve told them we’d meet them at the Lair.”

“Let’s go, then”, she replied, and took his hand. They began walking and soon she looked back at the knights. “You can remind here. Come tell me if anybody else comes.”         

“Yes, your Holiness”, Parrish said, and they left through a door on the sides.

*

Stiles and Stuart had come from the Stilinski Spike of Sylune, where the royal family traditionally let the heir to the throne live alone when they were coming of age. They had traveled to the Inner District through a very long bridge over the city, from which they left behind the Strait and could look down at Clearwaters and the low city. Every one of the six noble districts had such bridges to connect them with the Inner District.

When they arrived, Parrish informed the King and Queen while the two boys went down to Belerion’s Lair, a pit where the Stilinski dragons were kept, fed and trained. Belerion was normally chained, so he was angry unless Claudia came and talked to him, when he became calm and easy.

Stuart noticed his mother wasn’t there, because just as he entered the pit the beast roared at him and sent a gust of wind his way, forcing him to stop and press with his armor boots hard not to be unstabilized. He hit Stiles’s chestplate but Stiles managed to hold him. “Careful”, he said.

“Stupid beast”, Stuart said, sitting where he was, away from Belerion’s reach. “How am I supposed to be his master one day?”

Belerion kept looking at Stuart through the serpentine slits in his yellow eyes. He was an enormous animal with forest green scales, white claws in each of his four extremities, a long green tail and membranous wings of an ever darker shade. His head was about the height of a young man. His fauces were open and his many pointy fangs were showing menacing; but then he looked at Stiles and closed it slowly, intrigued.  

“You can’t tame a dragon and you know it”, Stiles said, moving forward, much to Stuart’s surprise, making a beeline for the animal. “But you can become his ally.” Stiles cast a spell that summoned a small globe of light on his hand, and the dragon seemed curious about it, so he moved his head forward until he was right in front of Stiles. Stiles then closed the distance and patted Belerion’s head scales, scattering the light as the beast closed his eyes and let himself do. It looked almost like he was smiling.

“Is that a mind spell? Have you disoriented it?”

“It’s him, it’s not a thing. And no, that was just a light! Can’t you tell?”

“Right”, Stuart said, uninterested and looking away.

“You’re just annoyed I have useful magic.”, Stiles said and smirked.

Stuart chuckled. “Enjoy your little tricks, your magic never amounts to anything real. Light looks pretty, dark magic destroys.”

Stiles narrowed his eyes, “and what is it exactly a King has to destroy?”

Stuart huffed. “Don’t be so naïve and think a little wrist pain is the biggest of a King’s problems.”, he stopped, and then deadpanned, “his enemies.”

“

The Queen and the King soon came to the dragon’s pit and the Royal Family was together. The King hugged both of his sons and the Queen kissed them on the cheek, smiling as she finally pulled Stiles’s ear.

“You seem to be taller every month. How have you been by the Strait?”

“Awesome!”, Stiles said, smiling at his mother, “the morning breeze feels so good.”

“I know, right?”, his father chuckled, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Stuart, son, what have you been up to?”

Stuart looked at his father and grinned. “Well, you know, the usual. Training and studying.”

His father nodded. “Good, good. I see Belerion’s asleep?”

Stuart bit his cheek and looked at the dragon. “Yeah… Stiles is pretty good with him.”

“Oh, if only you let your brother teach you a thing or two”, Claudia said.

Stuart snorted. “Sure thing, mother.”

“Well, now that he’s asleep, we should go eat something. Catch up?”, Stiles said, half-hugging his mother and urging her back up the stairs, ignoring his brother’s discourtesy.

“That’s a good idea”, she said.

John did the same with Stuart behind, and they followed them back to the Palace. “So, tell me, how’s your new armor working?”

*

When they were done eating, everyone went their separate ways. The Queen said her goodbyes and left the room only after Stiles had stood up to kiss her in the cheek and hug her again. 

When she went back to her room, Melissa was there. She was her handmaiden and confidant; her best friend, truly. Melissa was a poor woman from Pentos, the city-state beyond the Strait in the West. Claudia had met her back in 995 AN, when she was pregnant and so was Melissa; the father had left to never be seen again. The Queen took her under her wing and her son, Scott, had been born in Sylune and was Stiles’s squire, who stayed in the Royal Palace. They had been inseparable, that is, when Stiles wasn’t with Stuart, ever since; but Stuart and Scott didn’t seem to get along.

When Claudia sat in the bed, Melissa looked at her from the chair and smiled. “So, how are the little Princes?”

“Good as always”, Claudia said, and she sighed. “Am I a terrible person for wanting Stuart to be more like Stiles?”

Melissa chuckled. “Most certainly not!”

Claudia joined her laughter. “Stiles is so patient with him. I hope they take what is coming well…”

Melissa’s face became more neutral, and she nodded. “The Council is the 1st of June, isn’t it?”

“Yes”, Claudia said, “and the weddings will probably be in September, with the coming of Fall. It’s when Ewyn was born, a good omen.” 

“We’ll see.”, Melissa said, and sat beside her to take her hand in her own.

*

King John was strolling with Christopher and Parrish down the Palace’s halls, idly chatting. He had just been laughing at a joke from Chris about Northerners, and then they talked about the Princes. He looked at Parrish.

“You take such well care of them, son.”

“I owe it all to you”, he said, grinning sheepishly.

“No,”, John said, reaching for his shoulder and squeezing it strongly, “you earned it all. You have so much promise, and you’re great with your fire learnings too. Not everyone can do both.”

“Thanks, your Majesty.”

“I’ve told you already not to call me that! When I’m with you two, I’m still a knight.”, he chuckled.

“Once a knight, always a knight”, Chris said, smiling.

John nodded and looked back at Parrish.

“I know it’s much to ask, but Parrish, I want you to make a promise to me. When I’m gone, I want you to defend the Princes like I would.”

“I will do everything in my power, Sir.”, he said solemnly, and brought a hand to his heart, “I swear by the Light.”

John pulled him for a hug. “I know I can count on you.”

After that, the three men resumed their slow walk.

“So, Chris, I heard our little Allyson is coming back soon. How’s she doing in the Marshes?”

*

Stuart was left with Stiles in the table and got up soon after he finished drinking his cup of Osternis Wine. At that time, Scott came in, but saw Stuart and stopped walking – his clothes were dirty from working all day, a greyish shirt, short pants and some used shoes. 

“I’m sorry, my Prince, I can come back later.”

“He was just leaving,”, Stiles said, “come in, Scott.” He got up.

Stuart stood still for a second, inspecting Scott, looking at him like a small insect. He stopped at his eyes. “Be sure not to get lice”, he said, and left.

Scott rolled his eyes and then Stiles came and hugged him. “Don’t mind him. He’s meeting a certain Lady now.” Stiles sighed as they separated.

“You still have it bad, don’t you?”

“Well, yes. I just don’t get it. Why does she like Stuart so much and not me?”

“I have no clue why she likes him in the first place.”, he said smiling.

Stiles smacked his head. “That’s my face you’re talking about!”

“Aw!”

Stiles smirked. “Don’t complain. I have good news for you.”

Scott rubbed the back of his head and raised an eyebrow. “I hope it’s worth it.”

“Allyson returns next week! My parents told me over lunch. Hey, have you already eaten?”

“Hmm… actually I’m starving”, he responded with a sheepish grin.

“Help yourself”, Stiles said, pointing with his hand at all the food in the table.

“You’re the best.”, he said, and immediately jumped at the food. “So, have they told you how she’s doing there?”

“I think she was actually pretty bored. But… she’ll be here soon enough.”

“Why do you say that like you’re announcing an execution?”, Scott said, around a mouthful of crumby chunks of bread.

“It’s not her, it’s the Council.”

“Oh.”

“Are you worried who you’ll marry?”

“Well, I’m more concerned about how Stuart will take it. And about the Northerners coming. And the Argents. Allyson is fine, but her family…”

“I admit Gerard’s creepy”, Scott said. 

“I don’t like him”, Stiles said, “he’s always thought he’s better than my father because his family had more money. Such a Scaled old man.”

“You’re a Saur!”, Scott said.

“And a Stilinski!”, Stiles said, with fake pride, raising his chin in jest.

Scott chuckled. “So a Saur. Hey, what are you doing this afternoon? I have some free time. We should hang out, I haven’t seen you in all week. I’ve trained a lot, barely fallen off the horse at all during practice.”

Stiles smiled. “Yeah, we should catch up. I could show you some spells I’ve been working on. I’m getting good! Do you want to go see Belerion?”

Scott’s mouth fell open. “Hell yeah!”

*

“Parrish, we’ll be fine on our own for now. You may go.”

“Yes, your Highness”, and he bowed. “My Lady.” Parrish took Lydia’s hand and placed a soft kiss on it, looking up to meet her eyes with his clear green ones, and she smiled politely, managing not to blush. He turned and left, and Stuart kept smirking as he saw Parrish take a few steps away.

He and Lydia began walking in the opposite direction, heading for the Royal Library, the biggest in Sylune. For a while, only their steps were heard in the warm, yellow corridors. They crossed one which was on a second floor and open to the gardens in the outside, and Lydia took a second to stop and contemplate the view.

“Hey,” Stuart said, stopping too. “Let’s to go the library now. Today is a quiet day. We can see sunset here later, it’s much more of a view than afternoon glow.”

“Yes, okay”, she said, smiling as they resumed their walk. “You know, I’ve been looking forward to see you.”

“I know”, he said without much interest.

“I’ve got the book we were talking about last time.”

He suddenly moved his head sideways, and Lydia smiled inwardly, satisfied with herself for getting his interest.

“Is that so?”, he said, on a voice much more neutral than his expression.

“The one by the Nyctians”, she said gleefully. “I’ve began reading and taking some notes.”

He nodded and soon they arrived at the library. Stuart opened the door for her and went inside afterwards. They went to the opposite end, where Master Harris was sitting writing what seemed to be a letter.

“Harris, take the Lady and me to… the section”, he grinned, “if you’re so kind.”

Master Harris was a famous alchemist, and served as the library’s administrator, taking in new orders of books and organizing them all; as well as teaching the young nobles in the court. He had been Stiles’s bane for most of his childhood, for much of Stuart’s amusement. He also kept the keys to the forbidden book section.

They usually went there, so they were used to the seemingly labyrinthic path between the shelves, basically a maze, with a dead end that wasn’t one in as much as it had a hidden door. Master Harris left them there with the keys. “Enjoy the wisdom. Few people like you know what’s interesting any more. I’m surprised they know how to read. Lydia, how were your last astral tomes?”

“Wonderful, as always, Master Harris. Thank you very much.”

“Always a pleasure”, he said smiling wickedly, and disappeared.

“What’s so fun about astral magic? Isn’t it all boring enchantments on how to make invisible ink?”

Lydia raised her eyebrow. “I have an idea. Let me show you. Try to cast anything, summon a little generic light or something.”

Stuart sighed exasperated. “Okay…” He opened his hand, rested her elbow on the table and said the word for light in old Dynic.

“Lux”

“Nox”, Lydia whispered immediately, looking intently at his hand. Nox was another astral spell used to summon darkness; that is, to block light in an environment with too much illumination, clearly not their dark room – but she was using it to focus on countering Stuart’s spell, and she did. Stuart’s light spell didn’t get further than a few sparks and then the only he amounted to was tensing his forearm tendons and almost cracking his finger joints.

“What in hell did you do?”

“It’s a silencing spell. You can’t cast anything if I don’t want to, now. Still think it’s useless?” She chuckled.

“Oh, shut up”, he said, rolling his eyes, and took the book they were talking about earlier from her hands. “Let’s see if there’s anything good in here.”

They studied for the rest of the afternoon and much into the evening, reading and writing, laughing and sometimes standing close to each other, with Lydia’s forearms brushing his and her fingers caressing his hands when she pointed at this or that word in the book. At one point, they stared for a long time without saying anything. It was easy for her to get lost in his whiskey eyes and the hours went by in the blink of an eye.

She cleared her throat. “So, Stuart, actually there’s something else I had for you.”

He smiled this time. “What is it?”

“I got this for you”, she said. She took from her dark blue dress pocket the silver bracelet with the onyx gemstone in the middle.

He took it and inspected it closely, gaping. “Wow. Do you know where this Onyx is from?”

“Dragon’s End?”

“Well, yes, but on the far end, close to the Moon Desert. This is really valuable. Thanks, Lydia”, Stuart said, then pecked her in the cheek.

She blushed. “Y-… you’re, welcome.”, she said, smiling awkwardly.

He returned her smile. “You’re such a good friend. At least someone in the realm shares my interests.”

She nodded. “Well… speaking of the realm. Has your mother told you anything about the Council?”

“Not a word yet. And I really have no interest in having any of it. I don’t want to marry anyone.”

Lydia looked taken aback. “Isn’t there a single Lady in the court you’re interested in? But that’s impossible!”

He turned his head to look at her and glared. “Lydia, drop the act. My brother never ceases to remind me, I know you’re no fool. You know I have no real interest in any lady, or lord for that matter; court or not.”

“But.. who are you interested in, then?”

He sighed. “Lydia, I can trust you right?”

“Of course, my Prince!”

“Aren’t you far too observant not to know where my interests lie?”

She swallowed. “Where mine… don’t?”

He nodded, face stern.

She sighed and looked away. “You know that will never work. Nobody would understand.”

He laughed. “And you do?”

She looked at him tenderly. “I understand what craving for the impossible feels like.”

*

Lydia left when it got dark and the Royal Family came together again for dinner. It was a lavish meal for a quiet evening, and soon everyone found themselves saying goodnight and leaving for their private chambers.

Stiles went to his own, where Scott was already about to leave and they told each other goodbye for the night as well. Other than Scott’s light steps, nothing was to be heard in the silent halls of that part of the Royal Palace at night. Until a few minutes later, that is. Stiles had just gotten in bed, in only his beige short undergarments and a loose plain cotton shirt. He heard the knocking at the door as he pulled up a thin blanket, and didn’t get up because he already knew who it was.

Stuart opened the door silently, peeking inside, and closed it just as carefully. He locked it from the inside and tiptoed to the bed. He sat to remove his clothes and got inside, settling behind Stiles and embracing him. Stiles kept looking at the stars through the window on the other side of the room, his back to Stuart.

“Hey”, Stuart whispered, placing his hand in Stiles’s neck and poking at his cheek from where he was. He moved it down to press his own head closer, burying it in the crook of his brother’s neck and breathing warmly and contented. “I’ve missed you.”

Stiles smiled. “We had dinner together, remember?”

Stuart mumbled something onto his neck, but he couldn’t make anything other than shut up. 

Stuart’s hand, which was resting in Stiles’s waist, began trailing up his side and dragging the hem of his shirt up with it, but Stuart was in no hurry, softly caressing his skin.

Stiles brought his own hand down to take his brother’s, steadying it. “We shouldn’t do anything tonight. And, we still need to talk about the Council.”

Stuart let out an exasperated sigh against the back of his neck, and Stiles shivered but was resolved to finally get Stuart to converse.

“Can’t I get a break today?”, he said.

“You always make excuses”, Stiles replied, in a hushed tone. “Stuart, have you even given it any thought who your wife will be? The future of the Kingdom is going to be decided in a few days. Show some interest, you’ll be the King, for the Light’s sake.”

“I don’t want to think about it”, he explained, “But it’s not like I’m not clear on what I want.”

“And that is…? Queen Lydia, maybe?”

Stuart started mouthing at Stiles’s neck and Stiles melted, at a loss for coherent thoughts and letting out rough but low sounds. He started licking it with the tip of his tongue, slightly, as he used his hand to get beneath the fabric of Stiles’s undergarments, cupping his balls.

“I’d never do that to you”, Stuart whispered into his ear as he sucked on his earlobe. “I shall have no lady for Queen.”

“Stu-… stop, we’ll get caught…”, Stiles said, and his voice came out ragged. Stuart moved his hand up and began feeling his brother’s dick that was hardening at the contact.

“I’ve locked the door”, Stuart said, secure, and thrusted forward, getting closer to Stiles and allowing him to feel the outline of his hard dick against the cheek of his ass. “It’s just you and me, like always.”

Stiles cupped Stuart’s hand over the fabric of his underwear and squeezed hard. “It’s not right…”

Stuart thrusted again, hissing and letting out another deep breath that made Stiles feel tingly again. “It’s never wrong if it’s you. Only you.”

Stuart shifted and straddled Stiles to take off his underwear, discarding it with the blanket; the night was warming up anyway. He also took off his shirt. Stiles looked at his brother’s naked chest and the lines of his abs with blown eyes. He went down smiling back at Stiles and licked a stripe up the full length of his dick, teasing it, and then leaving it to chill against the night air. Stiles felt ecstatic, cheeks flushed pink. “Stuart…”

“I’ll take care of you”, he said, and grabbed Stiles’s length, stroking it with intent. Stiles gaped and arched his neck, burying the back of his head in the pillow and letting out a single low grunt. “Please, don’t stop.”

Stuart complied and kept stroking him at a steady rhythm, then going down on him and taking him in as far as he got in one go. He looked up at Stiles, but Stiles was too lost for him to make eye contact. Stuart kept sucking him up and down his length as Stiles’s moans became louder and louder. Stiles’s body was squirming, so Stuart placed both his hands at the sides of his hips to still him and took him in deeper. Stiles’s hands clutched to the mattress and he tried to thrust up into his brother’s throat, but his grip was strong and all he could do was lie there.

Stuart stopped for a moment to catch his breath, taking Stiles’s cock out of his mouth and humming as he licked around the head and his slit, holding it in place with one hand. As he ran the tip of his tongue down, resuming fast strokes, Stiles let out a big moan.

“For Light’s sake, Stuart, I… I’m going to come!”

Stuart looked up at him smirking and hushed him, pressing his other hand against Stiles’s mouth as he went down on him fully. Stiles’s eyes widened as he came inside his brother’s mouth and he let out a muffled grunt against his palm. Now that Stuart only had one hand down to pin his hip he managed to thrust a bit into his mouth, riding his orgasm through the aftershocks. Stuart didn’t seem to mind, going with it and then swallowing.

Stuart got up and collapsed over Stiles in a passionate kiss, allowing his brother to taste himself as Stiles clutched desperately to him. Stuart ran his hands down his sides and his thighs, pressing lightly and spreading them apart further to place his own knees in between.

They rolled over in the bed as they made out and they ended up facing each other, side by side, panting. Stuart kissed Stiles’s forehead and motioned for him to turn around, nesting him again against his chest. Stuart was painfully hard and had found no relief yet, so he pressed against his brother’s cleft and spoke softly to his ear. “Stiles…”

Stuart stroked himself a few times and then he started tentatively circling around Stiles’s hole. He moved his fingers from the skin behind his balls to it, pushing one inside shallowly and moving it around, stretching.

“Go, I can take it”, Stiles said. Stuart brought his other hand from Stiles’s shoulder to his neck, resting it over the skin of his throat and he placed his head against the crook Stiles’s neck, biting teasingly there. “You always tell me not to be impatient”, he whispered.

Stiles sighed pleased, still overstimulated from his climax, and let Stuart work him open slowly until he was taking three fingers perfectly. When he was satisfied he pressed his dick against Stiles’s entrance and pushed in, feeling it slide inside warm and smooth as the grip around Stiles’s throat tightened. “You’re so good to me, Stiles.”

Stuart sped up the rhythm as he tried to get impossibly closer to Stiles, running his hands down his chest and thigh. He started kissing his neck and then his jaw, coming up to meet his own brother’s lips. Stiles was making soft noises again. Stuart was so worked up from before that he was close, and his thrusts became uneven and deeper as he approached his orgasm.

“Stiles”, he said, as he bit at his brother’s lower lip and pressed his hands to his belly and hips, grunting and pushing all the way in and then stilling. He came inside his brother copiously and after a few seconds he resumed shallow and slow thrusts. He pressed his nose against Stiles’s cheek again, with a fond smile in his face. He opened his eyes and found Stiles’s, an exact copy of his own, staring back at him as well.

“Only you”, Stuart said tenderly.

They soon drifted off to a quiet sleep and Stuart rose early, to leave before anybody would find out he wasn’t in his room and panic. With the first lights hinting in the horizon and just as he was about to leave, believing Stiles asleep, he heard his voice from behind.

“Stuart,… you know this can’t last forever, despite what we wanted.”

Stuart stopped on his feet but didn’t look back.

“I’ll be King. I always get what I want”, he ascertained.

Stiles didn’t respond, and Stuart opened the door. He finally caved in and briefly looked back at Stiles, who looked troubled staring at the ceiling, as if a thousand thoughts were crossing his mind.

“Somehow”, Stuart said, looking at the distance in the hall, and closed the door. His voice was much gentler now. “I promise.”

Sylune, Low District, May 1013 AN

In the lower parts of Sylune, the sun of the late evening was still hovering above the coast in the south. The people gathered around the river banks and in the western shores the sandy ground ended and streets of poorer houses began. That was one of the dirtiest parts of Sylune, nicknamed the Red Shore for its numerous brothels and gambling taverns. Children of the small peoples ran around playing hide and sick in places their parents didn’t approve of, and street preachers talked incessantly about the Light and a life free of vices, serving the Realm.

“The Light bless you”, the preacher said to a bywalker concealed by a cloak that went through the streets with three others like him. He looked at the preacher and replied with “May Death take its toll”, a Nyctian saying that made the preacher freeze in place while the men disappeared in the crowd.

“Does he have to terrorize even an unknown little man?”, Scott said.

Stuart glared at him from beneath his cloak. “I can hear you. Also, all that man was doing was talking pointless rules. You wouldn’t know, though.”

Scott huffed.

“Can you two give me a break”, Stiles said, hushing them.

“We’re here, anyway”, Stuart said, and waited as Parrish went inside. He got back out in a few moments and nodded, going back inside. The three of them followed.

It was a riverside brothel, but they were meeting there in secrecy with Deaton, a mysterious wealthy merchant and surgeon from Pentos. He served as a consultant and doctor for many noble families in Sylune and knew a lot about natural remedies. He traded in herbs and other goods and traveled a lot for this reason. He would officially pay visit to the Royal palace the next day, but he had agreed to meet with Stuart and Lydia before, in secrecy.

As they went into a room apparently used for the administration of the place, where Deaton was sitting, from another door four enshrouded people appeared. As they took off their cloaks, they revealed to be Lydia, Meredith, Jackson and Isaac.

“Well, we’re all here then, it seems”, Deaton said.

They greeted each other and Stuart, Stiles and Lydia sat down in front of Deaton, who was sitting in the biggest chair behind a table. Stiles smiled at Lydia but she seemed more interested in the carpet on the ground. Stuart was in the middle.

“So, how are your parents, Stuart? Stiles?”

“They’re fine”, Stuart said. “Overprotective as always.”

Deaton laughed. “You don’t change, do you.”

Stuart smirked. “Why bother.”

“What about you”, Stiles added. “I heard you were in the north earlier this month. Haven’t the Hales maimed you yet?”

“I barely saw them”, Deaton said. “Those people never get sick. Must be in their constitution.”

“I heard Cora’s into the Icy Spirits.”, Lydia added.

“I saw her training one day”, Deaton said. “She’s really the warrior they say. All of them are. They arrive tomorrow in the city.”

Stiles shivered.

“I bet they aren’t so tough”, Jackson added from behind.

“Look, at least this one speaks some sense.”, Stuart added.

“And neither are you”, Jackson said, glaring at him.

Stuart returned the look but turned his head to face Deaton again. “Anyway, where did you just come from? Not from the North. Pentos?”

“Dragon’s End.”

He and Lydia looked at each other briefly. “Have you brought what we asked for?”, he said.

“Yes. They weren’t cheap! I reckon you have a fair offer.”

“Let’s negotiate that later”, Stuart said, raising an eyebrow. He pulled out a small dagger from his commoner shirt’s sleeve. He had dressed for the occasion. “Let’s test the quality. I need someone’s blood, only a few drops. Jackson?”, he said, turning around and getting up.

“I’d rather melt my new armor than take part in that”, he said, making a disgusted face. Stuart’s other eyebrow met that one.

“Good. Then your boy will do.”

He went over, quickly grabbed Isaac’s hand and pinched briefly and decidedly in his palm to draw some blood.

Isaac made an aborted noise and reflexively drew his hand back, closing his eyes and looking away, his face pale.

“Sorry, my Prince.”

Stuart sighed. “It’s enough, anyway. Weakling.”

“Don’t be sorry!” Jackson said, angrily, stepping in between, “who gave you the right to do that? He’s mine!”

“And who gives you the right to raise your voice against me?”, Stuart said, staring at Jackson only some feet away from him, breathing loudly. The air was heavy with tension. Stiles told Scott and Parrish something from his side and also got up.

“We’ll leave you and Lydia with Deaton to test the quality. We’ll be back when we’re done.”

Stiles and Scott grabbed Isaac and went outside quickly, and Parrish took Jackson; leaving Meredith, Lydia and Stuart alone with Deaton.

Deaton was looking at Stuart with disapproval in his eyes. “So, let’s move on. If this one is as good as you say…”

*

Jackson and Parrish went to one of the side rooms and got to a terrace by the riverside. The Sun was lower now, filling the sky with shades of yellow and orange, few clouds in the Strait. Parrish reclined in the stone rail and sighed. “Don’t confront him. You’ll only make it worse.”

Jackson looked at him and licked his lips hastily. “I don’t know how you put up with him. Seriously.” He joined him and his expression was resigned.

“People aren’t always what they seem. And people change. Anyway”, Parrish turned to look at his nephew, “How’s your dad?”

Jackson sighed and looked at the Strait and the seagulls in the horizon, flying in a flock, hearing them in the distance.

“He’s doing well. He wants to marry me to Lydia Martin. If she’s not to be Queen, that is.”

Parrish smiled. “Now, isn’t that wonderful?”

“I guess… if only she loved me as much as I love her.”

 “Well, as I said, people change. Don’t lose hope.”

He huffed. “I don’t know…”

They stayed there in comfortable silence for a moment. They spent little time together since Parrish was in the Queen’s guard, and the Crown Prince’s personal bodyguard.

“Uncle, can I ask you something?”, he said, then continued, “Why won’t father ever tell me who my real mother was?”

Parrish looked surprised, but simply turned and placed a hand in his nephew’s shoulder.

“He will, someday. He’s probably looking for the right time. But you have to love your adoptive mother like she was your own blood. She’s a Whittemore, she’s your real mother.”

“You know I’ve tried…”, Jackson said, looking the ground and then at him.

“Maybe not hard enough. I wish I could tell you so many things”, Parrish said, “but for now, just trust me all is about to change a lot. We have to be careful, nothing good ever comes with Hales and Argents in the same room.”

*

Scott and Isaac had met some time ago, when Jackson came to the Palace or they trained together, always forced by their parents, of course. Scott didn’t like Jackson but Isaac seemed nicer the more he got to know him. They were sitting in a couch ornamented in the Pentosi fashion, with elaborate patterns and vivid red colors.

“Hey, Isaac, are you okay?”

“Yeah. It just took me by surprise, that’s all.”

He was still sucking at the wound Stuart had left in his palm, but it had stopped bleeding long ago.

“Stuart’s a dick. So is Jackson.’”, Scott said.

“Shh, Stiles’s gonna hear you.”

“It’s not like he can say anything”, Scott said with a crooked smile. “This isn’t Pentos, you aren’t their slave.”

Isaac sighed and chuckled. Scott took some bandages he’d found and carefully covered his wound, and they caught up in the meantime about their training.

“Thanks. It’s not really that bad. It’s barely a scratch, I don’t know why you’ve gone through all the trouble.”

“Well, we have to do something. Hey, did you know Allyson is arriving tomorrow? Stiles told me they’re coming by land, because the sea is wild right now and they were in no hurry.”

Isaac nodded and they kept talking. Stiles was looking through the window when he heard a noise from the side and left the room to search for its source, silently. If he got lost he’d end up bumping into a prostitute, or even worse, a prostitute and a client, but he was too curious. He felt a hand grab his wrist and he was pulled to a well-lit room from the hallway he was crossing.

“Fuck the Light!”, the girl said, “You’re Prince Stiles! I’m so happy!”

“Shhh”, he said, looking sideways, “nobody can know I’m here.”

She chuckled and bowed, mockingly. “What is someone like you doing here in the first place? I’m Erica, by the way.”

“That’s none of your business”, he whispered a bit too high, furrowing his brow, still suspicious.

“Maybe it is”, she said, running her hand through Stiles’s scalp and taking his other one to place it against her breast. “Are you getting lonely at night, my Prince? No signs of a wife yet? Or husband? Rumors are you’ll marry very soon.”

When she tried to grope his crotch, he moved her hands away, and she pinched his nose but then stepped back. “Okay, I get it. I wouldn’t charge you, though. And not for being the Prince.”

Stiles blushed, but he felt curious about the girl. He hardly ever met a commoner, much less a prostitute, and she seemed clean and friendly. He’d expected way differently. She was also beautiful, although she was wearing a lot of make up for his taste. He guessed it was part of the job.

“I can’t do that”, he whined, “though you’re a very beautiful lady.”

She laughed so hard she had to put a hand on her mouth to avoid calling anyone’s attention. “I’m no lady, little Prince. I’m a whore. For now.”

He quirked his eyebrows. “Are you quitting?”

“You can’t tell anybody”, she said, “so we’ll keep each other’s secret”, she continued, winking.

He sat down on a chair, and she sat beside him. “Okay. Where will you go?”

“I’m going to Pentos in some months. I heard there’s a good place where I could work, good wages and my friend is there.”

“I’ve been to Pentos. Do you know there’s slavery there? I don’t like how their rulers treat their own people.”

“I won’t be one”, she said, “it’s all planned. I just have to be patient. I’ll miss catching a glimpse of your cute face every now and then, but I’ll be better off away from Sylune.”

“I can’t blame you, really; and I wouldn’t know what to do in your situation”, he said as his cheeks flushed again. “I’m sorry.”

“Hmm… so in compensation, how about you give me a goodbye kiss? I just bathed!”

“Erica! Oh…”

*

Deaton had already sold the herbs and was chatting quietly with Lydia and Stuart when the rest came in. Lydia had also acquired Redwort, a contraceptive herb, and put it in her pouch; and Stuart had mysteriously taken some too for someone else. They were about to leave, because the sun was setting by now.

“Stiles!”, Deaton said, as he came in. “Why do you have lipstick marks on your cheek?”

“It’s not what it looks like!”, he said, “All of you, drop the subject.”

Stuart was laughing. “No one has said anything yet.”

“Shut up”, he said.

“Lydia, can I talk to you for a second?”

Stuart nodded at her and she left with him. When they were alone, she looked at him and cleaned his kiss marks with a small handkerchief. “What is it?”

“I haven’t spoken to you all evening but I wanted to tell you something. Do you have any clue where I can learn old Draconic?”

“Hmm… why do you ask?”

“There’s some books I’d like to read, from the library back at the palace.”, he looked sideways and lowered the tone of his voice, “I want to read about Aeron and the Red Sorceress.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Wow. I see… well, you know, actually I can read that. I could teach you. But I want something in return.”

“That’s awesome. What do you want?”

“You make Stuart come to his senses he has to marry someone. We know it may be someone that isn’t in Sylune now, but if he were to tell Claudia himself…”

“Are you suggesting he tells mother to marry you?”

“Not exactly, but…”

“But you want that”, Stiles said, his face saddening.

“Stiles, I know this isn’t easy for you. Trust me. But I’m not doing this for myself. It’s for him. If he ends up marrying Allyson or a Hale, we won’t need a Red Sorceress to burn Sylune.”

Stiles nodded, because she was right no matter how much it hurt him. Truth is, he was infatuated with Lydia, but Stuart was his twin brother. And he wouldn’t let him down.

“I’ll do my best.”

She nodded back. “Let’s return.”

When they got back, Deaton was telling Parrish and Jackson about the Hales. They were also traveling by land. Stiles swallowed at the mention of Laura, Derek and Cora Hale. They hadn’t really talked much, but their death glares sent shivers down his spine. It was evident the Hale siblings wanted to stay away from Sylune as much as possible, always looking like a clouder of cats in a new home. And Lord Peter was creepier than Gerard Argent. He wished he wasn’t coming, Claudia had told him he wasn’t.

They said goodbye shortly after that; Scott hugged Isaac for a bit too long and then he left with the Princes and Parrish. Meredith hadn’t really spoken much, but she seemed less unsettled when the Nyctian objects weren’t in the table. Jackson also hugged Parrish and left with Lydia and Meredith. They each left through a different door than the one they had use to come in, to avoid being conspicuous.

When Stiles looked back at the brothel, he saw a familiar face winking at him through the window. He laughed internally and remembered Erica’s face before he drifted to sleep that night. The next day would be big.

The Riverlands, May 1013 AN

The Hale family would normally have taken the river after crossing Grizzly Hills, where they met the Boltons who joined them, but they took the Path of Ashes instead. Talia chose to be educational, and her children couldn’t be more pissed about it, though they tolerated it because they dreaded Sylune more than anything. They only wanted to be in the North.

Laura was sitting with Cora, chilling out on the grass in the midday sun, in some solitary fields they’d stopped by in the Riverlands. The closest town was a small village called Aldor, where they’d spent the previous night. Aldor was famous for its armor smiths, and they were favored by Queen Claudia herself, since she had asked them to make golden armors, that she’d imbue with light, as a gift for the upcoming weddings of the Princes.

The Riverlands was the shire north of Sylune by the river Clearwaters, east of it lay the Dawn Fields and then Dragon’s End. Geography bored Cora to no end, as well, because she always wanted to spar and learn about the Deep North. There, the glaciers took over and ancient ice runes in the Old Tongue held the secrets of gelomancy and the Spirits of Ice.

She was resting her head on Laura’s thighs and Laura was playing with her hair.

“I thought Peter wasn’t coming?”, Cora asked.

“He always tags along in the last moment. Said he’d miss all the fun.”

Cora snorted. “I bet. I’m dying to meet the Argents again. Why is everybody in Sylune so annoying?”

Laura smirked. “You find everything annoying. In Aldor, in Sylune… But I’m sure you’ll like someone.”

“Yes, yes… well, let me sleep. I need some energy for the rest of the trip.”

*

Peter was watering the horses with Derek.

“So, how are you looking forward to seeing the Argents, dear nephew?”

Derek glared at him. “You know I hate Saurs.”

Peter opened his mouth with false surprise. “Is that so? I thought you had some… friendship with the Lord’s daughter.”

“That’s none of your business”, Derek said, defensively.

Peter crackled and patted his back, “you be careful. We wouldn’t want Talia to find out, would we?”

“Are you threatening me?”, Derek blurted out, jerking his head.

“I’d never do that!”, Peter said. “I just said you should be careful. And maybe try to be interested in someone less dangerous. Listen to me, I know who she is and how she plays the game.”

Derek furrowed his eyebrows. “Who are you thinking about?”

“Lady Martin?”

“She’s a beautiful lady, but she has a thing for the Prince. I don’t think we’d be compatible.”

“She also likes to play with fire, just like you. What about the little Prince?”

Derek hesitated. “He looks exactly like Stuart. Are you kidding? I’d want to rip his throat out, with my teeth, every moment.”

“Quite aggressive. I bet he likes it”, Peter said smirking.

Derek glared at him.

*

Talia and Deucalion Bolton were by the cart, looking at the green fields. Deucalion had been trying to ingratiate himself with Lady Hale for all the road, but she was onto him. He was sharpening his sword.  

“Lord Bolton, may I ask you something?”

“Anything, my Lady.”

“Why do you think the Hales have been the alphas of the Kingdom for such a long time?”

“Because they stuck together.”

She glared at him icily and nodded. “Keep it in mind. True Syns stay together and support each other. That’s how we thrive and that’s the way of the northerners.”

“Yes, my Lady.”

“The Hales won’t forget what happened South of Clearwaters and what the Scaled have done to our peoples in the past.”

Deucalion nodded, and he sheathed his sword. Talia didn’t blink.

*

Half an hour later the Hale family got together and left for Sylune, planning only to stop once again before arriving at the city’s main gates, where the Royal guard would escort them to the Palace.

Rocky Shore, May 1013 AN

East of Sylune and its wide bay lay the Rocky Shore, named that way because of the traitorous coasts and the few natural beaches. It was a Valley shire of strong Saur presence, and the Argents were traversing it to get to Sylune. They had already traveled for four days nonstop and would arrive the next day at the city’s main gates.

North of Rocky Shore was the oldest shire in the Valley, the Meadows, which held the second biggest city, Viridia. There were a total of five shires, and traditionally Osternis. Viridia provided the center for the old culture common to all Vallese people and was a crossroads for many routes. It was the ancestral home of the Martin family, of neutral Valley heritage, and where the pact for peace was signed eras ago before Sylune was built for Syns and Saurs to inhabit peacefully – only to be broken by the Salthariens when the Scaled Saurs discovered dragons in Erin Tornys.

The Meadows bordered with the other four shires (The Bay of Sylune in the west, the Riverlands in the north-west, Dawn Fields in the north-east and Rocky Shore in the south), with Dragon’s End and with Orin Tornys in the Marshlands.

Down in Rocky Shore, by the coast, the Argents were eating on a table laid in the grass. Kate and Victoria finished quickly and left for a stroll to digest their meal and discuss their own matters. Gerard was left with Allyson, and he took his cup of Rocky wine as he spoke to her.

“Tell me, sweetheart, do you know what this Council will determine?”

“The future of the Realm?”, she ventured, tentatively.

“Yes. And who the Queen will be. Tell me, do you want to rule?”

Allyson sighed. She couldn’t lie to her grandfather.

“No. Not with Stuart.”

“And what will you do if Claudia determined you should marry the Prince?”

“I’ll fulfill my duties as an Argent, for the good of the Kingdom.”

“I’m well aware of your friendship with the little Martin. How will she take it?”

“I don’t know…”, Allyson said, “I don’t want her to hate me.” She seemed troubled.

“Listen to me, Allyson”, Gerard said, reaching for her arm and squeezing it. “You’re a Scaled, despite who owns the dragons. You’re strong and proud. Don’t let anybody stay dim your shine. If she can’t accept your position, you’re better off without her.” He drank his wine and looked away.

Allyson rubbed her eyes. “I wish I didn’t have to choose.”

“Life will always make you choose. Duty, or love. Family, or friends. Life, or Death. Allyson, never forget what you are. You’re a true dragon. We can’t let the monarchy keep pushing us down, our lands have lost too much.”

He smiled weakly and she returned his smile, nodding softly.

“I just got a letter from her. She actually told me Lord Whittemore and Lord Martin were talking about betrothing her and Jackson.”

“Good. They know the Vallese place in Sylune. They’re also ambitious men, and we’ve done well to earn their favors over these years in Sylune.”

A voice came from behind them. “Let’s hope the Syns know theirs as well.”

Victoria laughed, looking at Kate, and said acridly, “Syns and Saurs shouldn’t mix. If Claudia takes Ewyn’s little daydream too seriously nothing good will happen. The Hales should stay in the North, where they belong, and not meddle in Sylune.”

A storm was brewing in the horizon, advancing from the South Sea. The whole sea was especially warm, but more so the parts near the Marshlands, which were often hit by violent storms and gales. It was rumored that deep within the sea there was a gigantic maelstrom that ravaged any ship that dared attempt a voyage through anywhere that wasn’t the Strait. Seafarers did their best not to venture too far from the coast, and not too close either lest their ended up crashing against the rocks.  

Matt, Kate’s squire, arrived.

“My lords, my ladies. The horses are ready.”

Gerard nodded, drowning a coughing fit with one last sip of wine and standing up.

“We still have to travel all through the Bay. Let’s go”, Victoria urged.

“I need a moment”, Allyson said, and got closer to the coast alone to look at the storm and the waves rising and crashing.

She felt the rays of thunder hitting the sea’s silvery surface. Most Argent blades were imbued with thunder, such as Kate’s or Chris’s, but neither of them was a full expert on thunder magic, especially practiced because of a small Cult of Thunder in Erin Tornys. She was used to the feeling of electricity and it both calmed and left her expectant of when it’d crash.

Allyson just closed her eyes and felt the winds growing stronger, cold air against her black, long hair. “Scott. Lydia. Friends. I hope the wind blows our way in this storm…”, she said to herself and to the sea.

Sylune, Royal palace, May 1013 AN  

The Hales arrived first in Sylune. The Path of Ashes had been cleared for the occasion and their bannermen lined the sides with flags, waving the Hale blue wolf against a black background. The city gates were open and the cart carrying the noble family drove them into the city, guiding them past the tall and solid stone walls and onto the higher district tier in the city. Some of their men drove to their residence in the Syn District to leave their belongings and unpack for the stay in the capital.

The cart carrying both noble families, however, drove to the Royal palace through one of the high bridges, the one extending from the Valley district in the North-East to the Inner district. Banners waving the Hale wolf had been put along the bridge together with the Stilinski stag, and the Argent dragons, erected at the sides of the magical lights that shone at night and lit the bridge. With the sun, however, there was no trace of the spell.

When the cart arrived at the Palace’s main doors in a big marble terrace, it stopped and they got down. The Hales had already been there before, but the sight impressed even them every time. There was a colossal grey statue of Ewyn, the first Stilinski to reign, in the middle, and around the grey there was green in a magnificent garden full of lively colored flowers and trees, as well as benches and fountains. Beyond, one could see all of Sylune, some of the Districts in the distance and the river deep below, flowing into the Strait in the early morning.

Sir Parrish and Sir Christopher came out of the doors as they were opened and walked to stand in front of Talia and David Hale. At Talia’s other side, Peter stood, and behind them the Hale children. By David’s side were the Boltons; Deucalion, Kali and behind their twin sons, Aiden and Ethan.

The knights bowed before the Hale and Bolton ladies and lords and Christopher was the first to speak, looking at them.

“Your majesty welcomes you to Sylune, Lady Hale, Lord Hale; Lord Bolton, Lady Bolton.”

The northerners nodded.

“Follow us, the Queen and King are waiting for you.”

Laura and David followed as the white cloaked men led the way. They soon entered the throne room, where the Stilinskis were sitting. The Queen was in the Throne of Ewyn, with Stuart and John by her sides, in smaller chairs, and Stiles by John’s side, the four of them in a line. The Queen was dressed in a white, long dress ornamented with silver patterns, and the King and Princes wore golden armors of the Stilinski style.

The Royal Family stood when the Hales arrived and stopped before the steps up the throne platform. As they walked towards them, both northern families knelt. Talia looked at Claudia with a smile, and then tilted her head. She was wearing her dark armor with a fur coat and her sword sheathed by her side. The rest of her family wore more comfortable clothes, still too dark for Sylunite fashion.

“Your Holiness, it’s an honor to be in your presence”, the alpha said.

Cora huffed very discreetly from behind, where the younger members of both families stood. Stuart looked at her and grinned smugly. Stiles was looking at Laura and smiled fondly at her, she looked down too. John looked at Deucalion who was staring at the red carpet in the floor.

“Rise, my Lady”, Claudia said, walking towards her as they all rose, “We welcome you to Sylune. It’s been too long.”

When they were face to face, Talia finally pulled Claudia in for a hug and they patted each other’s backs. “Yes, I barely remembered the light of this city”, Talia said softly.

“No wonder, in that dark north of yours.”, Stuart mumbled to himself, but he could have sworn they heard because Laura, Derek and Cora gave him death glares at that very instant and he saw yellow and blue eyes flashing. Huh, weird Syns. He even thought Cora had mumbled something back at him. He looked back at Talia.

“How’s your family, Talia?”, the Queen asked, “How are affairs in the North?”, she continued shortly after, looking at Deucalion.

“Everything is good beyond Clearwaters”, Talia reassured her kindly. “How is the capital?”

“Busy as usual”, John added, laughing, patting her shoulder as well. “Should we get going somewhere more comfortable?”

“Yes, by all means”, Peter said from behind, “we’re all exhausted from the trip.”

David nodded and went join John while Talia and Claudia led the way to the dining hall where all sorts of food and drinks had been placed for the special occasion. They arrived at the high entrance arches when Parrish caught up to the Queen and informed her the Argents had arrived.

“Sir Christopher will bring them here”, he said.

Peter raised an eyebrow and looked at him. “Good, I hope they don’t get lost in the throne room.”

Parrish ignored him but the rest of the Hales, especially Cora and Derek, laughed.

“Very well”, Claudia said, “Why don’t you tell Lord Whittemore and Lord Martin that we’re all here?”

“Yes, your Holiness”, Parrish said, and left to look for them in the Palace, where they had arrived earlier with their families, waiting for the reception of the northerners and southerners.

Some of the nobles sat; but the monarchs, Talia, David, Deucalion and Kali stayed in place and waited for the Argents to appear. When they came into sight, Gerard led the way with Chris, and behind them were Allyson, Victoria and Kate. When they arrived at the entrance to the dining hall where Claudia stood, she offered her hand. Gerard knelt with difficulty and kissed it.

“Your Holiness, you’re as radiant as always.”

“You don’t look too bad yourself”, the Queen responded, as he got up, squeezing his arm. “Tell me, Lord Argent, are you hungry from your travels? The feast was just about to begin.”

“Yes, yes, most certainly”, he said, and as they walked towards the benches he looked at Talia and David from the other side of the Queen. “Was the trip easy for you, Lord and Lady Hale? I’m sure you’re used to much colder weathers up North.”

“We did well”, Talia said, “But you’re right, it’s hot like a dragon’s breath in here.” She took off her coat of fur and handed it to Laura, who then gave it to a Royal servant. Gerard laughed drily.

Chris was chatting with Allyson as Kate came forward with Victoria. “And it will only get hotter today”, she said with a broad smile, “so I hope there are cold drinks”.

Gerard smiled and she held to his arm, motioning for him to follow her. Everyone sat after that, and the feast begun. The main long table was governed by Claudia and John, the Hales and Argents, facing each other, the Boltons and Whittemores and then the Martins and the Princes in the other end. 

Sylunite delicacies, the best Osternis wine and cold juices ensued as the nobles began having fun and talking to each other while they ate, the stupor and disinhibition from the alcohol becoming more patent as the time went on. In the background, hired musicians played their instruments and the room became filled with mirth, probably because everyone was mostly speaking to their own families. Claudia was a strategist. For the moment, at least.  

John laughed loudly over a joke told by Gerard. “That was a good one.”

“He’s so funny”, Victoria said, wiping a tear from her eye.

“Son, you’re eating like a Syn, don’t they feed the Guards in here?”, Gerard told Chris, still laughing, but then looked at Claudia and Talia. “No offense”, he said, without any real apology. David squinted his eyes, letting his cutlery in the plate. “None taken.”

From Derek’s side, Kate was absently shaking her almost-empty cup of honeyed wine. She looked up and their gazes locked as she smirked lewdly. He raised an eyebrow, and she leered. He bared his teeth and looked away when Peter elbowed him, urging him to look at the other end of the table.

“What do you think about him now?”

Derek looked at Stiles, and it was much harder than he had thought to look past the little Prince. He had soft, pink lips and his cheeks were puffed as he ate a mouthful of bread. He was clean-shaven. He looked up at his whiskey eyes, shining in the afternoon light almost like gold. But his focus returned to his mouth, and he heard from all the distance how he was laughing, and it was the sweetest of sounds. He did look like Stuart, but he wasn’t angry, as he thought; Stiles’s look was proud but kind. 

“You’re a pervert”, Derek told Peter.

Peter gasped, “What did I say?”

Derek shook his head. “Forget it.”

Laura chimed in. “What are you talking about? The little Prince?”

Derek cleared his throat. “Have you nothing better to talk about?”

Laura squinted at him but let him be “You mean like how the Argents were hissing before? Thank the Spirits they’re speaking the Common Tongue now”.

Peter chuckled.

“If you’ll excuse me”, Derek said, and got up to leave the room for a moment, to try and take his mind off the Prince.

*

Stiles was still sitting at the opposite end of the table as his mother; he had been eyeing Derek’s stupid stubble and his undecipherable eyes since he saw him sitting there along with Laura. He was resting both elbows on the table and holding his own head, daydreaming. Stuart was first to speak, after having engaged in a polite conversation with Lydia’s father and being eyed constantly by her mother in disapproval. Natalie Martin wasn’t very subtle.

“So thinking about the wolf puppies?”, Stuart said, tilting his head.

Stiles ignored him. Lydia laughed.

Stiles eyed her. “Shut up.”

Lydia opened her mouth to say something but stopped, and then said in a very low voice, “For Light’s sake, he’s looking at you.”

“Shit”, Stiles said, and blushed, taking the first chunk of bread he’d left in his plate to chew on something, and pretended to talk with Stuart.

Stuart looked at Derek briefly, raising his eyebrows. “Can’t blame you. Though their Old Tongue is annoying as a Light sermon. And I can make as much sense out of it.”

“Are you kidding? It sounds so beautiful! Lydia taught me some”, Stiles said.

Lydia looked at Stuart, who was furrowing his brow now, and shrugged. She spoke a lot of languages.

“And, I saw you peeking at one of the Bolton twins before. So shut up”, Stiles said, pointing at her in jest.

“It was just because I saw his brother checking out Danny”, she said defensively, placing a hand on the table.

“What about Danny?”, Jackson asked, hearing his servant’s name.

“Nevermind”, she said, sighing, and Stiles laughed.

*

Parrish came to the table at some point to talk to his brother, and whispered something in his ear. From the other side, Peter Hale raised his cup at both of them and Lord Whittemore smiled politely and did the same. Parrish simply stared at Peter and left walking by the Argents’ place in the table. Chris and Victoria were talking quietly to each other, having already finished their plates.

“I’ve missed you and Allyson a lot”, he said.

“So have we”, Victoria said sincerely. “I wish you had come.”

“Me too. But you know my place is here, dear.”

She hesitated, but then nodded.

“To protect the Realm”, Allyson added, and his father nodded back at her.

“Yes, never forget that.”, he added. “Knights ought to protect justice.”

Victoria smiled and took her daughter’s hand. They returned to chime in Gerard’s conversation with the Boltons, and then Gerard asked Claudia about Belerion’s health and state, in which she filled them in enthusiastically. Kate excused herself from the table soon afterwards.

*

Derek was about to return to the dining hall, still thinking about the little Prince. He was walking through a corridor when he saw a woman turn around the corner in his direction. It was Kate Argent. They hadn’t met in months, and despite hating each other’s heritages, they had found an understanding sometime. He could use the situation to let off some steam, he thought.

“You’re way too obvious”, Derek said.

She smirked. “Is that so?”

He huffed.

“Hey, don’t be mad, pup. I can’t believe you’ve grown so well. Look at you, just a kid yesterday.”

He mocked a laugh. “That kid was man enough for you.”

She raised an eyebrow defiantly. “No one is man enough for me.” She fisted his dark blue shirt and pulled him into a room in the side of the corridor, and had him take her against the wall fast and dirty, not even taking all of their clothes off. She scratched his back as he pushed her into the wall, and she muffled her moans by biting into his neck way stronger than necessary. They couldn’t be late for desert, and they couldn’t take too long. After they were finished, they were still panting when she was getting dressed again. She was at the door while he was still standing against the wall. She looked at him.

“Syns are good for something, after all. And, the hair looks good on your face.”

“Fuck you.”

“Again already? Calm down, beast.”

He glared at her. She seemed unfazed, if not happier.  

“Before I go.”, she said, after a moment of silence, “What do you think of our hallowed future King marrying one of your beloved sisters?”

“I’ll tear him to shreds if he dares try to hurt any of them,”, he said reflexively, then added “after they’re Widow Queens of course. My family doesn’t take any bullshit from anyone, much less Saurs”, he said, and he smiled cockily.

“It’s cute you think any of your sisters would be a Queen.”

Derek took a step forward, losing the smile. “What are you suggesting?”

“Nothing. Just be careful. Everyone with dragons is a little crazy, right?”

She left and Derek pondered her words.

*

The feast went on well into the evening, and the families wanted to leave to their own Districts for the much needed sleep afterwards. Talia, Gerard and the Queen, however, stayed a little longer, strolling through the gardens, so the nobles hung around more time.

“Claudia, what’s on your mind?”, Gerard asked softly.

“Oh, well, nothing specific. I was thinking of my boys.”

“Ah, kids”, he said, “They grow up so fast. They’re all men and women now. Soon the Kingdom will be in their hands.”

“Good hands, I hope”, Talia added.

*

Stiles was sitting alone in a bench tapping his feet when he saw his father and Laura Hale walking through the gardens too, going to the Hale cart probably. Her father hugged her and went away, as she began walking towards him. Stiles had always sort of admired the northerners; all the Hales, especially Laura and Derek, seemed so strong and decided, and they also scared him a little even if he wouldn’t say it out loud.

She sat beside him. “Hey. How are you, Stiles?”, she said. “You’re so tall now! I remember when you were a kid.”

“Thanks”, he said. “Hey, what’s that sword? It looks wonderful!”

She touched it over the sheath. “This is my family sword, Icefang. It’s been used to defend the North since the times of the Salthariens, always wielded by a Hale.”

“Wow”, he said.

“I gave it to her”, Talia said, coming over. “Stiles! Good to see you. Laura, we should go. Have you seen Cora?”

“Um…”, Stiles said, getting up along with her.

“I’m right here”, a voice said, coming from behind a fountain in the other end of the garden, and walking past both of them to her mother. She eyed Stiles.

“Goodbye, Stiles”, Laura said, and pecked his cheek, “take good care of yourself.”

He nodded and looked at Talia. “Goodbye, Lady Hale, you all rest well tonight. Sylune is your home too.”

Talia smiled fondly and shook his hand. “You’re so much like your mother”, she said, squeezing his arm after the handshake, and then they turned to leave.

Stiles waved the she wolves goodbye awkwardly. Cora turned around and winked at him, and he could swear her eyes flashed yellow light.

*

Gerard was strolling with Stuart through one of the corridors that faced the gardens, looking at the red sky of the sunset coloring the fountains through the stone arches. Both were wearing armors, Gerard olive and gold and Stuart’s golden, with a dark cape and no weapon.

“So, young Prince, tell me, did you know Ewyn was of Saur heritage?”

“Why are you lecturing me on my family?”, Stuart said, emotionless, looking forward.

Gerard chuckled. “No, I’m not. I’m just saying, that’s why he could tame Nessaria. I wanted to talk to you alone, man to man. Tell me, your mother’s wishes aside, who do you really want to marry?”

Stuart stopped and looked at him. “Isn’t it obvious what you want to hear?”

“I want to know what your heart wants”, Gerard replied. “Arranged marriages can make people miserable. And our Kingdom needs a happy King. That’s why I was thinking you’d agree Saur blood is the best, isn’t it?”

Stuart examined him carefully. “Is it?”

Gerard played with his helmet in his hands, calm and methodic. He sighed. “I’m sure. The Syn presence in Sylune has only further and further pushed Saurs into the shadows, not only in the Marshes but also in the Valley. A true Saur King would put the northerners in their place.”

“So you are saying I should marry Allyson, aren’t you?”

“I’m saying you should consider your options. But, I won’t lie. An Argent Queen would make your reign shine above all others. Saurs belong together, and you’d have the full support of our family in the King’s Guard. I’ve been in Sylune for long. Others would also support your decision.”

“Right now, the best of the Argents is in the Queen’s guard”, Stuart said unabashedly, and Gerard coughed.

“When you’re King, things may change, son. You need as much support as you can get. I would make sure your reign is prosper.”

Stuart placed a hand in Gerard’s shoulder and smirked. “When I’m King, things will change. And, anyway, you won’t be there for most of it.”

Gerard was shocked, and was about to say something when he entered a coughing fit and he stared bitterly at Stuart. Stuart’s look turned cold and he got closer to Gerard, and whispered. “Don’t think me a fool. You remember well not to underestimate me.”

Stuart turned around and left unhurried, still impassive.

Gerard recovered and sat to catch his breath. When he wasn’t coughing, he was in good shape, but long journeys made him weak. “Pathetic brat”, he mumbled. “Imbecile”, he added, and threw his helmet at the ground, which made a loud clash in the empty gardens.

*

Lydia and Allyson were ecstatic to meet each other again, and they hugged long before they pulled away to talk about Sylune and the Marshes.

“It’s so boring there”, Allyson said, “At least I didn’t stay all the time in the Cape.”

“So where did you go?”, Lydia said.

“I traveled to Erin Tornys! I visited that Temple of Thunder. It was great, and I went in the middle of a storm so… some thunder magic is breathtaking. I even got you some old books on the subject, they’re in Draconic.”

“Thanks! Sounds very interesting, I’ll go look for them as soon as I can”, Lydia said. “In Sylune it’s always boring. I went to the Astral Society the other day with Stiles, we’ve been working on that… but not much else.”

“Sounds great too. You’re going to be Sylune’s greatest wizard.”

Lydia smirked. “I already am. How about your archery, Diana?”

Diana was a renown popular Vallese heroine that joined the Syn resistance in Dragon’s End when the Saltharien armies executed the Purge of the Valley, two thousand years ago, persecuting Syns and their Vallese families and friends. She was an excellent archer, much like Allyson.

“Good, good”, she said, smiling too.

Isaac and Jackson were sparring with Matt, Kate’s squire, on the training grounds in front of them.

“Let me show you.”

Allyson took a bow and one arrow she’d found around earlier and shot in right the place to take Matt’s sword from his hands. He had just put Isaac in the ground and was pointing the blade at his neck, teasing him for his defeat, and Isaac looked uneasy. “No point in gloating”, she screamed, and saw Matt apologize and quickly retreat, fuming.

“Who’s that one?”, Allyson said. “I never paid much attention to Jackson’s squire.”

“Isaac”, Lydia said.

Allyson nodded, pouting.

*

Back in the main gates, by the Argent cart, Kate and Chris chatted with Victoria waiting for Gerard and Allyson. They were talking about Belerion.

“Chris, I’m not saying anything about Stilinski skills.”, Kate offered, “in fact, Claudia could hatch that egg, so she’s not without merit”, she continued, “but don’t you deny that we, the Scaled, would do better.”

“It’s in our blood!”, Victoria added.

Chris sighed. “I know where we come from. But nobody took dragons from us, the Scaled lost dragons on their own.”

“If it wasn’t for so much Syn presence in Sylune that would’ve never have happened!”, Victoria said, looking at him with crazy eyes. “All the money went to the North and Osternis.”

“And when the Salthariens had all the money, how much Syn presence was there, Victoria?”

She shut up, visibly angry, but defeated.

“Why do you hate your Saur nature so much?”, Kate said, “you weren’t like this, brother. The capital’s affected you.”

“I don’t”, he said, sighing. “I just see history for what it is. We Argents are a good Scaled family. And I want the best for Allyson. Her happiness.”

“Actually”, Kate said, unimpressed, “I misremembered. You were always naïve. There is much at stake in a few days, brother!”

“Enough”, Victoria said. “We’re all tired.”

Kate ran her hands through her long brown hair and looked away. “Look, father is coming. He doesn’t seem happy”, she looked closer, “at all.”

Gerard arrived with Allyson, who had just told Lydia goodbye in the gardens. “We’re leaving right now”, he said bitterly and rushed into the cart.

Kate looked at Allyson. “What’s up, Ally?”

“I’m guessing he talked with his Highness the Prince”, she said, with mocking haughtiness. “He was also blaspheming.”

Chris kissed them goodbye, hugging her daughter tightly, and the Argents left for their District. The sun was already below the horizon.

Sylune, Royal palace, June 1013 AN  

A few days went by uneventfully and finally the first of June arrived. The Council was an event held every few months by the Crown, in which the most influential noble families of the Kingdom sat in the Council Room in the Royal Palace to discuss important affairs and decide the course of action in the Kingdom and other policies regarding the rest of the known world. Technically votes for important affairs were counted democratically and anonymously, with a vote for each of the Six Seats of Sylune, and ties were decided by the Queen. This was a remnant of the oligarchic system preceding the Salthariens, when Sylune was founded by a coalition of Syns and Saurs.

The Six Seats in 1013 AN were occupied as follows: Queen Claudia, on the Stilinski Seat; Lady Hale, on the First Syn Seat, for the lords of Winterfell; Lord Bolton, on the Second Syn Seat, for the lords of Ashenfort, capital of Grizzly Hills and Osternis; Lord Argent, on the Scaled Saur Seat, for the lords of Storm Cape; Lord Martin, on the Valley Seat, for the Sylunite representation of The Meadows, the most neutral and biggest Vallese region; and finally Lord Whittemore, on the Valley Saur Seat, for the Valley’s representation of Saurs in Sylune.

The Six met in the room and the course of the ceremony began, while the rest of the court members and nobles waited expectantly outside. The table in the room was also a six-pointed star, with each point for a seat. The Queen led and began inquiring each noble for their votes on the best candidate for the future Queen of the realm, Syn and Saur affairs.

*

Stuart was sitting on the bed in his room, and Stiles was pacing nervously.

“Sit, you’re making me nervous”, Stuart commanded Stiles.

Stiles stopped, but didn’t sit. “Do you feel like talking about it now?”

Stuart sighed.

“Did you at least consider what I told you?”, Stiles said.

“I won’t marry Lydia!”, he snapped. “I would never do that to you, why do you insist?”

“It’s just”, Stiles said, gesticulating awkwardly, “I don’t think there’s a future with us together in it.”

Stuart’s face dropped. Stiles’s words were amongst the few things that got to him. “Do you not want it?”

Stiles sighed again. “That’s not what I’m saying.”

“So what are you saying?”, Stuart said, angry.

“Look, let’s just wait and see what Mother comes up with”, Stiles deflected.

Stuart groaned and lay back on the bed.

*

Lydia and Jackson were sitting around Allyson at another room in the Palace, in a beige couch with elaborate hand-sewn patterns. The midday sun came in through an open window that overlooked the Strait in the distance and warmed the room.  

“So, Lydia”, Allyson began, hesitant, “What did your father want?”

“He didn’t tell me”, Lydia said, “but I’m sure he’s complying with whatever your grandfather decides.”

Allyson nodded. “Lydia, I need you to know I don’t want to be Queen…”

Lydia sighed. “I know. We’ll be friends no matter what, right?”

Allyson pulled Lydia for a brief hug. When they broke apart, Jackson was staring at them. He got up and went to the window.

“What’s wrong?”, Allyson said. “You look uneasy.”

“I’m fine”, Jackson said.

“What about your father, Jackson?”, Lydia asked.

He kept staring through the window. “Well, I thought he’d comply with Ally’s grandfather, but…”

“But?”, Lydia inquired further, raising an eyebrow.

“Parrish has told me he may change his mind.”

Allyson furrowed her brow. “What made it change?”

“More like who”, Lydia said. “We’ll have to ask your uncle for detail.”

Jackson huffed. “No way. He never tells me anything. He thinks I’m a kid and that I can’t handle the truth.”

“I wonder why that is”, Lydia said.

Jackson scowled, but it had no heat. He only took such teasing from Lydia.

Allyson sighed again and ran a hand through her hair. “We’ll see.”

*

Scott was talking to Isaac.

“I was just talking to my mother”, he said, “do you have any idea what is going on today?”

Isaac shook with his head.

“Well, most likely”, Scott sighed, “nothing good. I just hope Lady Allyson somehow stays in the capital.”

“She seems a good lady”, Isaac said. “How much exactly do you know her?”

“Can you keep a secret?”, Scott said.

“Of course, Scott. You’re my best friend”, Isaac said, smiling weakly.

“She and I are together.”

“Oh”, Isaac said, looking away. Scott missed the glimpse of sadness in his eyes. “I’m happy for you.”

Scott smiled sadly. “I hope it lasts…”

Isaac squeezed his shoulder for comfort.

*

Peter was in the garden, walking with David and Laura. David was in the middle, and from his right Laura turned her head to speak to him.

“Father, do you think Claudia and Talia will get their way?”

“The Queen always gets her way”, David said, “and so does your mother.”

Peter chuckled. “Rest easy, Laura. The Argents aren’t the only ones with tricks up their sleeve. Even if they came to Sylune to brown-nose the Stilinskis.”

Laura looked at him. “If it goes as planned, we shouldn’t rest easy. More like the opposite.”

Derek and Cora were coming from the opposite direction and met them. “What is mother’s plan, then?”, Cora asked.

“We’ll find soon enough”, Derek told her, pulling her for a half-embrace playfully and kissing her temple, trying to dissuade her from pressing the matter further.

“Hey!”, she whined.

*

Chris and Kate were resting their weighs against opposite ends of a long arched entrance within one of the many chambers in the Palace.

“Tell me, brother, will you still protect the Realm so fervently when a tyrant reigns?”

“I’ll stay in the King’s Guard for Stuart, if that’s what you’re asking. You forget that the Stilinskis have never been tyrants. The ancient Council laws have always been respected, every Great House has a say.”

She huffed. “Do you think that will stay the same when the pious Claudia is gone and Nyctians run amok in the court? We have to think forward.”

“I spend more time here than you. It’s true he’s not the most ardent follower of the Light, but he’s not insane like Aeron was”, Chris said, taking a step forward and staring defiantly at her sister.

She bit her cheek from the inside of her mouth, while holding his stare, and then finally sighed, defeated. “Time will tell.”

*

John was with Melissa in the Queen’s chambers, and Parrish came in to talk to his fellow knight and ruler.

“They’ll be finished any moment now, my King.”

Melissa and John looked at each other and nodded. John looked at Parrish and nodded too, and Parrish took it as a sign of agreement.

Parrish left and John was about to follow when he felt a hand in his shoulder. “John”, Melissa said. “I’ve known you for a long time. I know you’re so much like Claudia.”

John turned his head and smiled weakly.

“Just remember”, she said surely, “that you love your sons and this is all for their own good and for the Realm.”

*

When the doors of the Council Room opened, Lord David Hale, Lady Kate Argent and the King were waiting solemnly in line for Talia, Gerard and the Queen, with their families behind. The Queen stepped forward nodded at the King, who seemed to understand. Gerard had a bitter expression and Kate stormed off when he shook his head at her, visibly angry. She left looking at the other three lords coming out of the room, Whittemore, Martin, and Bolton, with an expression of disgust. The three of them seemed nervous.

Stiles was standing by Allyson and Cora and looked sideways. Both girls were as fidgety as he was. Peter Hale came behind the little Prince and his niece, and put a hand on each of their shoulders to still them. “Be patient”, he said calmly, and smiled at Stiles, who eyed him briefly and looked back to find his twin brother.

Stuart, who was behind them, stepped forward decidedly to talk to his Mother. She put both her hands on his shoulders and told him. When he heard the decision, he gaped and stormed off pushing Laura aside brusquely and looking outraged.

Cora understood, and she started feeling anxious. “Mother…?”

“Cora”, Talia said, coming to her and placing her hands like Claudia had with Stuart, “you’ll be the Princess of the Realm.”

“Mother!”, Cora’s jaw dropped shortly and she brought a hand over her mouth, horrified. “Why would you do that to me?”

Talia and Claudia were at a loss for words. Stiles swallowed and looked at his Mother like a deer caught in the headlights. Peter seemed amused. Gerard stepped forward, saying drily, “And it seems you’ll be the Lord of Storm Cape, little Prince.”

Stiles froze in place, but Allyson took his hand. “Excuse us, Stiles needs a moment.”

Stiles nodded but broke the contact. “Just give me a second to talk to him”, he said, and rushed to find Stuart. As he was finding the entrance to the corridor, he found a sturdy figure on his way. Derek was standing there, scowling at him and blocking his path.

“You tell your little shit of a brother that he will have nowhere to hide if he disrespects my sisters like that again”, he said roughly, “my Prince”, he added with mocking tone.

Stiles burned with rage and snapped, piercing Derek with his brown eyes. “You watch your tongue when talking about my brother, little wolf, if you’re to keep it”, giving emphasis to every word.

Stiles shoved Derek aside before he could react and left him there fuming, with his nostrils flaring as he looked at the Prince disappear into the corridor when he turned around a corner.

Claudia cleared her throat in the other part of the room. “It seems we have gotten off on the wrong foot. I’m sure Stiles will calm Stuart down. Then we can talk more peacefully. Parrish, can you go too, please, make sure they are fine?”

“Yes, your Holiness”, he said, and left after Stiles.

Gerard left without another word, and Talia cleared her throat as well. Peter seemed about to laugh, and he went to Derek, placing his hand in his nephew’s back. “He has some temper to him too.”

Derek huffed, and turned to go where Laura was, looking murderous too.   

*

Stuart and Stiles returned about half an hour later and everyone was still in the room, but much more calm. Stuart looked angry, and Stiles sad and resigned. Claudia met with them in the entrance and then came back to Talia and Gerard, who had returned, to make an announcement.

Talia spoke to Cora. “My dear, please, do this for me. Follow Sir Parrish and the Prince.”

Cora complied, resigned, because they had been arguing before and she’d resolved to behave for the time being, to give Stuart a chance. She followed the two men. Laura kept giving Stuart the stink eye all the way. When they disappeared, Stiles was left there with the Queen.

“Allyson, will you follow me please?”

She nodded, telling Gerard and her parents goodbye, and they left together. Stiles looked sideways at Derek for a second, who was glaring at him, but he just shied away from his eyes. Laura smiled weakly at them.

Lydia and Jackson went to talk to Laura. Jackson looked at Derek, who was with Talia, and seemed to be about to kill someone.

“Do you seriously think this will work?”

Laura chuckled to let off some tension. “I’m more worried about him than about my sister.”

Lydia furrowed her brow and turned her head. “See, Jackson? Not everybody thinks Stuart is a hellspawn.”

Laura looked at Lydia, expressionless. “I didn’t say that.”

Jackson laughed at the implication about Cora.

On the other end of the room, Talia and Claudia were comforting Derek while the Argents talked among themselves and Chris seemed to be arguing with Victoria.

“They aren’t bad kids. Cora will come to an understanding”, Talia said, “I hope.”

“I’m not so sure”, Derek said, looking coldly at the Queen.

“They must”, the Queen said, softly sighing at Derek. “I’m sorry about what happened, Derek.” Talia half-embraced them both and Derek stood there awkwardly, coming down from his rage.

*

“You may go now.”

Sir Parrish closed the door and left Cora and Stuart to their own affairs in a small room with a balcony, which overlooked the gardens and City in the background. There were two red comfortable armchairs, and the clouds in the sky were gathering, making the morning greyer and more threatening with every passing hour.

They sat awkwardly and silently for a long time, looking far away. It would probably end up raining in the evening. Fitting, he thought. Cora was the first to break the silence, eventually.

“Let’s get to the point.”

He quirked his eyebrows without looking at her. “We’d have to, you know, actually talk for that.”

She furrowed her brow and tried to ignore his petulancy, though she ended up snapping. “Why do you act like you’re the one offended here?”

“Excuse me?”, he said, furrowing his own too and turning his head to face her, finally.

“Don’t give me any bullshit”, she said. “You have it all, you’ll be the King. A crown, your family name, in your own city. And I’ll be left with nothing!”, she said, raising her tone. “Don’t you think if someone should be miserable it’s me?”

Stuart held his gaze, but she was an unrelenting person when angry. He finally sighed deeply and caved in. His expression became softer and his anger dissipated.  

“This is not what I want. I want no crown, no family names and no land. I only want home, and they’re taking that away from me.”

She seemed confused, but came down a bit. “What are you talking about?”

“My brother will be shipped to Storm Cape! I can’t let that happen”, he replied, getting riled up.

“I love my brothers, too, but there’s nothing I can do if my mother sends me here. We could at least try to get along, for starters.”

He huffed, and his mischievous expression returned to his features. “With a Syn? Maybe you’re helpless, but I won’t let this happen. You’d never understand the bond between twins.”

She scowled. “You’re an idiot; I don’t even know why I thought I could reason with you. I hope you succeed and we never see each other again.” She stood up, and he followed her eyes with his face coldly. “And Laura will never bend the knee to someone like you”, she spat out.

“Don’t you think”, he said, standing up as well and raising his tone, “that what I said changes the position of your peoples. If you defy your King, be you Queen or Lady, you’ll be executed for treason.”

She stared into his eyes, getting one step closer, and hers flashed yellow. “You don’t know what the northerners are capable of.” She clenched her fist and it began to be covered by a very thin sheet of ice and a blueish glow.

Stuart smiled wickedly at her display of gelomancy. “I know the grave is always cold”, he deadpanned, and the tension in the room was about to burst when Derek Hale opened the door.

“What’s going on?”, he said.

“I was just leaving”, Cora said, opening her fist, and shoved past him airily.

Derek turned his head to look at her walk away and then scowled at Stuart. “Cora, wait!”, he yelled, then looked at him again. “You treat her right.”

Stuart scoffed. “I don’t think we’ll be treating each other at all.”

Derek kept glaring at him, turning his feet away. “Much as I’d like that, I don’t think you have a choice.”

Stuart smirked at him. “I always have choices.”

Derek eyed him one last time suspiciously and turned to leave. “You watch your actions”, he said, flashing his eyes blue, and Stuart found himself alone with the door open.

The Prince kept smirking.

*

Derek found Parrish in the corridor, when he was leaving upset. They met halfway and Parrish stopped, but Derek walked past him.

“Is Cora alright?”, he asked, turning to look at him, raising his voice.

“As good as anyone can be in your Prince’s presence”, Derek spat out enraged, looking back at him.

Parrish sighed and looked at the tiles in the floor as Derek disappeared from sight. “Stuart”, he mumbled to himself.

*

As Stuart returned to the room next to the Council one, in denial of his betrothal, he bumped against Matt, the Argent squire, in one of the corridors.

“Watch where you’re going, boy.”

“I’m terribly sorry, your Highness”, Matt said swiftly, without any real apology in his face.

He kept walking, and not much later after that he came across Kate and Gerard Argent. She noticed him and talked to him.

“Congratulations on your new Syn lady, Prince!”, she said, teasing. Gerard didn’t look as amused as she was. He coughed.

“Shut up”, Stuart told Kate, and kept walking. Kate openly laughed and he let out a deep breath.

He finally arrived where Lydia and Jackson were, and she looked at him apologetically. Jackson was beaming.

“What are you smiling at?”, Stuart said bitterly.

“Oh, nothing”, Jackson said, “I’m just happy for you and your northerner future wife.”

Lydia elbowed Jackson as Stuart glared at him.

“Hey, come on, let’s go find something else to do”, she said, and she took Stuart by his arm. He sighed and brought a hand to his forehead.

*

Stiles and Allyson were sitting in a long couch with Scott in between them in a room in the servant quarters, and Isaac was with them, standing. Stiles and Allyson had arrived together to look for Scott, with sorrowful faces, and Scott had just nodded.

“What does this mean?”, Scott asked Stiles.

“I guess it means we’ll leave when we’re married”, Stiles said, sighing.

Allyson looked at Scott. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault”, Scott said, “I guess I was an idiot for thinking this would last.”

Stiles looked saddened. “Hey, Scott”, he spoke to him softly; “We’ll find a way. We always do, right?”

Scott smiled weakly. “I hope we do.”

Allyson pulled Scott for a hug, and Stiles joined them. He noticed Isaac hovering awkwardly and motioned for him to join the group.

*

Claudia and Talia kissed each other goodbye the next day, next to Ewyn’s statue. Both women looked at the inscription with looks of longing and worry. It read:

In memory of Ewyn Stilinski and his dream for the Holy Kingdom. May the Holy City stand forever blessed and protected from the fires of hatred between all men. May it achieve his dream of the union of Saur and Syn to bring forth peace in the Realm.

Claudia sighed and Talia squeezed her hand. “Our children will have to take it from where we’ve left it someday. Let’s make sure we do all we can until that time comes. We’re doing the right thing.”

The Hales and Boltons left Sylune that evening, sailing on a ship from Clearwaters that would take them to Grizzly Hills, and then the Hales would travel by land to Winterfell again, to stay for the summer.

The weddings would happen in September, if nothing interfered with Claudia and Talia’s intentions. Their Council strategies had succeeded. Syn blood would enter the royal lineage, and the little Prince would keep the Scaled under control in Storm Cape.