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Raiden's Storm Chapter 39: War Of Sisters
🕑 Added 2024-03-01 22:55:44 +0000 UTC[Sansa's POV]
It had been a foolish, selfish, act... that was all Sansa could think from night to morning. She had forced herself on the King, her younger sister's betrothed, a young man who had been kind, honest and understanding with her. He had so simply stated that he had no love for her, and yet...
At that moment, her heart had spoken for her.
Edric was all she could ever dream of. His dashing, wild, black hair, the charming way he would smile and cheer, how swiftly her heart fluttered and warmed whenever they touched, his deep blue eyes that shimmered like the purest of lakes and would at times shine an alluring, magical violet with tones of sorrow that drew her to him.
How the knights and lords of the Realm beckon at his inspiring call, their banners fluttering under his. The youngest knight to ever live, the finest archer who ever walked and a mighty warrior without equal in the world. From the Lannisters to the Greyjoys to the Mountain Clans... victory and glory followed everywhere he walked.
Though a giant to her, he was anything but brutish. There was no place she felt more unworried and safe than his strong yet soft embrace. The same one she had cried a waterfall of tears into...
There is a reason why every lady vied for even a moment of his attention. He wasn't just her dream; he was every maiden's dream. She had prayed countless times to the old gods and the new, day and night.
He is a true knight, a hero... a true King... Sansa thought.
What was a Willas Tyrell to him?
She would rather stubbornly remain unmarried than see herself with anyone else.
'If only... he felt the same. How will I even face him now?'
After a depressed sigh, she got ready for the day.
...
Arya had grown more distant from her as time passed, focusing on her silly sword lessons before she left with Edric for the Vale. Ever since the war broke out and her father had left for the field, the number of times they had even eaten together could be counted on two hands. Only her eldest brother and mother could pull them together, if only for a short while.
Sansa supped with her lady friends and female companions when Arya entered the hall. Of course, she didn't wear any dress, but her appearance was distinctly cleaner. Sansa couldn't recall seeing her hair so straightly brushed and orderly braided ever before. Even so, despite looking more lady-like in certain aspects, she now wore her little sword at her side.
"Am I disturbing anything?" Arya questioned, taking a look at the ladies at Sansa's side.
"My lady, of course not." Margaery smiled, tilting her head slightly. "You are more than welcome to join us."
"..." Arya gave her a short, cold stare before sitting opposite Sansa. "Can you all leave? Except my sister."
"... If that is your wish, my lady." Margaery nodded with a sweet smile.
Even though she wasn't queen yet, she commanded some authority in the sense that she very well could be in the future.
Sansa observed as all of her companions left and left her alone with Arya. She didn't say much more, beginning to eat their food rather quickly.
"Slurp... slurp... slurp." Arya grabbed a bowl of soup and drained it down in an utterly unlady-like fashion.
Sansa didn't hide her disgust.
"How could someone like you be queen?" She blurted out, all of her bottled envy leaving her heart at once. If Arya wasn't in the way, she would be marrying him instead.
"..." Arya put down the bowl and looked at her. She didn't get angry as Sansa expected her to. Instead, the slightest of smug grins graced her lips. "By marrying the King, obviously."
"As if Edric would marry you," Sansa muttered, turning away.
"If he wanted you for his queen, he would've announced it a while ago." Arya countered, grabbing a piece of bread and munching on it. "I don't think he likes you as much as you like him."
Sansa clenched her soft palms. "He doesn't like you at all."
Arya frowned slightly before relaxing into a slight grin. "Where is your golden prince now? The one you said you loved with all your heart... your golden lion."
"..."
"He's rotting in a cell with the rats. Where he belongs." Arya chuckled. "Why don't you go and keep your prince warm? Maybe bring him food while you're at it-"
"Shut up." Sansa stood up, shaking her head. "I never loved Joffrey. I..."
"That's another lie. Lie, lie, lie... that's all you do. You lied about Mycah, and now you're saying you lied about Joffrey." Arya scoffed. "I bet you even lie about Edric. You just want to be the Queen, and you'd hop from one prince to the next-"
"That isn't true!" Sansa refuted, shaking her head. "I love Edric more than you ever could. I don't even care about being Queen... I just want to be with him. You took that away from me. You took him away."
The animosity in Sansa's eyes made even Arya a little uncomfortable.
"You're terrible at everything. You're ugly, you act like an animal, you're always so dirty... how could someone like you marry Edric?"
"Shut it!" Arya tossed a tomato, and it smashed against Sansa's face. "I hate you."
Sansa grabbed a handkerchief and cleaned herself, stepping away.
"If you had never... if you had never been born, he wouldn't have a reason to turn me away. I would be his lady... and I would mend his heart like you never could. He would learn to love me, and we'd marry, and we'd be happy-"
"It's never enough for you." Arya scowled. "You've always had everything. The beautiful red hair, the appealing blue eyes, the grace, the soft voice, all the courtesies, needlework, dancing, singing... the proper, perfect, lady. Better at me in every way that counts."
"..." Sansa paused, staring at her younger sister.
Despite their quarrelling, this moment... it felt like she saw into the heart of her little sister and understood her more than she ever did before.
"I'm not you..." Arya stood up, shaking her head. "I won't ever be."
"Arya, I..." Sansa realised that she had been far too harsh. It wasn't Arya's fault that she was betrothed to Edric.
"It's true that I never wanted to be a lady, but... it's the last thing our father wanted from me. He said Edric was as good of a match as any other... and he was right. He understands and supports who I am."
"Edric... I like him." Arya admitted, shaking her head. "And I won't give him up to you. You should find someone else to love, some fancy lord or knight... because Edric is my future husband."
Arya turned away and left in a hurry, as if the words she had spoken embarrassed her.
Sansa was left conflicted. She thought of how her father used to advise against them endlessly warring with each other.
'You are sisters. I expect you to behave like sisters.'
'I'm... a horrible sister.'
She sighed.
~
[Edric's POV]
I slept a good bit deeper into the morning due to my night owl activities. I got dressed and looked in the mirror. Last night was still fresh in my mind, as if it had happened only a moment prior.
'It's just a kiss...' I thought to myself. 'Nothing to get worked up about.'
"Your kindness was not left unrewarded." Raiden Shogun remarked, floating behind me.
I glanced back and saw her disapproving expression.
"I was just being courteous," I replied, shrugging my shoulders. "It's part of being a knight... and a King. Besides, giving gifts to your family isn't all that strange."
"..." Raiden Shogun blinked and stared at me momentarily before turning away. "Do as you will, Edric Storm."
Only silence followed. I sighed, dropping myself on the bed. I wasn't interested in Sansa Stark - not romantically, at the very least. It's only logical to be kind to the eldest sister of my Warden of the North. In the end, she chose to kiss me. Granted... it would've helped if I didn't stand still.
The one time my hyper-focus doesn't activate, hah...
I chuckled.
"My Dear Shogun, don't be so envious." I looked at her purple braided hair. The sight of her back was just as majestic and alluring as the front. "You know what you mean to me."
"..."
"I wouldn't be here without you." I glanced at the insignia on the back of my left hand. "Honestly, I don't even know where I'd be. Life is always so... unpredictable."
"A raging storm could emerge from the calmest of days." Raiden Shogun remarked. "You are an unpredictable person yourself."
"... Am I?" I chuckled, looking at the fancy chandelier hanging from the ceiling. "I don't think that myself. I am a simple man with the simplest of desires."
"You might think so." She shrugged slightly. "But that doesn't necessarily make it true, does it? You doubted if you'd be a good King, yet here you are. Your people love and respect you, you've crushed all notion of rebellion, and the Seven Kingdoms have entirely submitted to you. Achieving peace, stability, and prosperity is of paramount importance to a ruler. You've attained all three in so short a time."
In truth, much of that would be attributed to my uncles, loyal lords and council members. Then again... ruling the Realm is not something one man alone can do, given just how vast it is. No matter how great a King is, he needs his supporters, administrators and advisors.
"Here I am..." I sat up, looking at the mirror again. "King Edric Storm."
"You'll be loved, your name will be sung across the Realm, and you'll protect its people like a true knight would..."
"..." Raiden Shogun turned to me as I spoke the last of Alysanne's words. "You remembered it word for word."
"I've only read the letter only once in person, yet it has resounded a hundred times in my mind."
I sighed, getting off the bed. I looked at the banner that hung to one corner of the bedchamber, the one she had made for me. That silly idea of merging four sigils, all in reversed colours. Targaryen, Estermont, Baratheon and Florent...
I took it inside of the Plane of Euthymia.
There was something I wanted... no, something I needed to do.
With momentary peace in the Realm, there likely wouldn't be a better time for it. I just needed to settle a few more things.
...
I set out for the streets of King's Landing alongside several companions, including Arthur, Bryce, Ragnor, Dallin, the Hound and some gold cloaks. We (mainly Arthur, Bryce and I) talked about a few things along the way to the top of the Street of Steel, where Tobho Mott's shop and house resided.
It was taller and wider than any other building on the street, towering over like a shadow. It was quite impressive up close. No doubt, Tobho Mott made a pretty penny selling his wares to be able to afford such an estate.
You know you're dedicated when you live on top of your shop.
As I entered through, a slim serving girl greeted me.
"You're... milor- Your Grace."
"Don't be shy." I chuckled, reassuring her. "I'm here to see the master of this shop. I'd like to commission a thing or two."
"Of course... I'll lead you to him."
She led us to a cavernous stone barn outside the house, where Tobho Mott was instructing several apprentices.
"Master... His Grace, the King, has arrived."
"..." He slowly turned, meeting my gaze. Afterwards, he gave a respectful nod. "Your Grace. It is an honour to meet you at last. Have you come here to commission a set of armour? Mayhaps another warhammer, or steel arrows that can penetrate plate-"
"Aye, my old armour's tight as a pulled bow-string. I would like to commission several sets of armour alongside mine, in truth." I nodded. "I'll tell you the details later. For now, I'd like to ask if you have any apprenticeship places open."
Tobho Mott took a look at the company behind me.
"Who do you have in mind?"
"... Bryce, Ragnor, Dallin. Does learning under the best smith in King's Landing intrigue any of you?" I looked back.
"The best in the Seven Kingdoms, Your Grace." Tobho corrected.
"The best in the Seven Kingdoms," I repeated, smiling slightly. "Well, don't be shy. I'll pay for it all."
"... I'd like to," Bryce spoke up. "I am no warrior like Ser Arthur, but I know how to work hard, Your Grace. I won't waste an opportunity to learn a valuable trade."
"Good man." I pat his shoulder. "I assume you two lads are more interested in martial pursuits."
"Yes, Your Grace." Ragnor nodded. "When I left the village, I set out to be a knight."
"So did I," Dallin added. "We are your squires, Your Grace."
"Hm." I smiled, nodding. "Very well. There is one more thing."
"Hm?" Tobho questioned.
"You have an apprentice by the name of Gendry, don't you? I'd like to meet him."
"..." He looked at me for a moment before nodding. "Of course, Your Grace. He is right there."
Gendry hadn't been all that far away. Yeah, he looked a bit like me. Older, sixteen... though a good bit shorter. He looked rather bewildered at the sight of me.
"How is everything?" I asked.
"I am well, Your Grace." He raised the slightest of eyebrows. "May I ask why you approached me?"
"We're fellow bastard brothers, of course." I smiled, stepping forward without dancing around the matter. "Half-brothers, yet brothers nonetheless. King Robert's blood."
"..." Gendry's mouth opened and widened as he was in shock. "King Robert was my... father?"
"Aye, he was quite charitable with his... you know." I chuckled. "Though I am King, I have never considered myself above helping my siblings. If there is anything you might ever need, I will support you wholeheartedly."
"Actually..." I wrapped my arm around him. "Why don't I show you around the Red Keep?"
"... That wouldn't be proper." Gendry hesitated, shaking his head. "I don't belong in a fancy court, look at me... I'm a smith-"
"Another bastard sibling." The Hound remarked. "There's probably enough for Edric to make a bloody army of those shits."
"The old King spread his seed far and wide," Dallin said.
"Ah, who cares about what's proper? At court, I decide what's proper." I smiled, shrugging my shoulders. "If you'd like, we can get you dressed like a pretty princess."
"... I'd rather not."
"Just one day won't hurt, my dear brother!"
...
I managed to get Gendry into the Red Keep and introduced him to everyone. However, before I could do much more, Arya confronted me with a frown.
"Where did you run off to?" She crossed her arms. "Did you forget your word again?"
"... No. I was merely bringing my big brother to court." I chuckled, glancing at Gendry and then back at Arya. "Gendry, meet Arya; my lovely betrothed."
"It's an honour, my lady." He bowed with some courtesy.
He clearly hadn't heard my sarcasm.
"Your big brother?" She blinked, raising an eyebrow. "Is he a smith?"
"Mhm. You have a keen eye." I nodded. "He's rather good at what he does, in truth."
"I am far lesser of a smith than you are a warrior, Your Grace." Gendry humbly remarked, shaking his head.
"A modest lad." I shrugged my shoulders. "Anyway, Gendry, enjoy yourself. Drink and feast like our father would."
I left Gendry to Renly before heading into the dungeons. Joffrey was initially placed on the second floor, where the highborn captives were kept. However, I had him moved to the black cells out of spite.
I walked ahead with a torch, lighting the pitch-black floor. Arya and Ser Arthur followed behind. At the very end of the floor was a face I hadn't seen in a long, long, time.
He had changed drastically since I last saw him. He had grown in height a little, his golden hair turning to a dirty brown. His once lively and hateful face was dried up of life. His body was thinner than ever, and I could see some of his bones even from afar.
Blud hasn't been eating...
"Ol' Joff." I addressed him, giving the torch to Arthur and taking out the key. I unlocked the cell door and stepped closer. "I'm surprised you're still alive and kicking. Us bastards tend to be quite stubborn, huh..."
"..." His eyes slowly looked up at me as he slightly tilted his head. "Edric... free... me."
"What for?" I blinked, raising an eyebrow.
"I'll do... anything."
"If only you were so compliant before." I turned to Arya. "You still want to beat him? He looks beaten already to me."
Old Joffrey was more fun to play with. I'd tell him quite a few things if he was the same. Alas, this was just a husk that once was Prince Joffrey Baratheon.
"Why would that change my mind?" Arya raised an eyebrow. "Mycah died because of him."
She turned to Joffrey.
"Do you remember him, you bastard?"
"..." Joffrey blinked at a snail's pace. "... Who?"
He's so fucked.
I smiled slightly, stepping back.
"Have fun, Arya. Don't go too far."
"I won't."
She gave me the slightest of smiles. For a moment, she looked like a sweet girl. That's when I knew Joffrey wouldn't see light again.
She stepped ahead of me.
"Maybe this will refresh your memory..." She drew Needle and slashed at the side of his face, creating a sizeable gash. "I won't hurt you... much."
"Is this wise?" Ser Arthur raised an eyebrow as I joined him.
"Not even his father will miss him." I shrugged.
"I meant... your lady." Arthur looked concerned. "Would it be right for her to..."
"It's natural for a wolf to feast on its prey, Ser Arthur."
"... If that is your wish." Arthur reluctantly agreed. "I won't defy you."
"Still don't remember?" Arya tilted her head slightly.
"You... little wolf..."
Joffrey contemplated saying it, his fear of death sealing his tongue. It had not been all that long ago that he'd been able to curse at Arya freely. Yes, he recalled it. The time she whacked his head with a stick and threw rocks at him.
"... The butcher's boy." He finally said, taking a deep breath.
"What killed him?"
"The Hound... I told him to ride the boy down..."
She sheathed Needle and balled her fists, punching him straight in the face. It didn't look all that painful but then again, Joffrey had become a delicate thing since his imprisonment. She didn't stop there, kicking him in the face, kidney, dick... man wasn't having a good time.
"You..." Joffrey groaned in pain. "Little... wolf bitch."
"I'll make you pay for everything you did, you Lannister bastard.”
"Well, I got things to do." I pat Arthur's shoulder. "Take care of Arya."
"Yes, Your Grace."
As I assumed... Joffrey wouldn't see sunlight again.
