Red Keep
Unnamed and humble office
"You have made quite the first impression, young Sebastian," expressed the effeminate man.
"I seek to please, Master of Whispers," replied Sebastian.
"Varys will suffice, if you prefer. Or don't. My little birds chirped about your preferences when naming allies," said Varys, alluding to Sebastian's first conversation with the Hand.
"Or foes," replied Sebastian.
Varys only smiled.
"It has come to my attention that a black dog hunted a few of my birds," said Varys.
"Were they important?" asked Sebastian with nonchalance.
"Not particularly, no. But imagine my happiness when my little birds returned, safe and sound. Not many men or women are particularly kind to little woodland critters," implied Varys.
"And what would I gain by harming such adorable little birds?" asked Sebastian.
"Nothing at all. But spite has always been a staple among lesser men," continued the Spider.
Sebastian tilted his head in a reproachful way.
"The fox is known not merely for being a fox, but for being old. And it seems you are both," said Sebastian.
"Wise words, my friend. Wise words. For despite your youth, excellence recognizes excellence," replied the Spider, reminding the dog that despite their differences, they were the same.
_ _ _ _ _ __ _ _ _ __ _ _ _ _
For the Hand of the King, every day was an uphill battle. Dealing with the Small Council and ruling the kingdom while Robert engulfed himself in wine and whores was no small task.
Especially these days, thought Lord Arryn, painfully aware of each indiscretion born of the King. Some of the women even harbored fantasies of queenhood, how delusional. A few coins were enough to send them away.
And today, the respectful young lad had made quite the impression.
The thought of most of the court was to dismiss him as a disrespectful and boisterous Northerner, which conveniently hid all the traps set in that extremely short interaction.
Robert respected the boy. There was no doubt about it. He had raised him, and Jon Arryn could recognize the respect shown from Robert to a fellow warrior, despite the age gap ,perhaps even a shared past.
Robert's bastard? thought Jon, but he immediately dismissed the idea as unlikely.
The second matter was the "gifts" brought to the King. The North wished to export a new beverage, vodka, along with ice. Who would have thought ice could be sold? Yet the young butler had found a way to transport it with minimal thaw. It would be a massive success in the South, and a new stream of commerce for the North.
A masterful stroke. Wine orders had dropped, vodka orders had risen, and now smallfolk gossip revolved around the new Northern drink, the King's favorite. The cream of the crop was Sebastian's little show atop the King's balcony.
Now the smallfolk whispered of the "Prince of the Sea," of "Valhalla" (whatever that meant), or of the "Masked Bard," with imitators appearing by the dozen, none with quite the same success.
The King liked him. The Small Council recognized him. The lords underestimated him. And the smallfolk loved him.
All in a single day.
_ _ _ __ _ _ _ _ _ __ _ __ __ _ _
In a brightly lit living room, the King, his family, and several masters shared dinner, something uncommon, but ordered by the King himself. Their Northern guest would depart the next day.
And, as always, peace was never an option.
"I heard you attacked the King," said Cersei while delighting herself with the chicken on her plate.
"He should have been hanged, his head put on a spike for such disrespect." She glanced at Robert, who looked back at her with annoyance and scoffed.
"None of your business, woman," replied an irritated Robert.
Expecting that response, she continued.
"I received a letter from their grandfather. He fears such a… savage could harm his daughter or his grandchildren." She gestured toward her children, each uncomfortable at the table, instinctively recognizing their parents' quarrel.
Sebastian glanced at Varys opposite him. Varys gave a small shrug. Nothing unusual.
"My sincere apologies, my queen," Sebastian offered.
Cersei looked disgusted at being addressed. Sebastian pretended not to notice.
"I wished to wait until today to present my gifts, for the children, and for Your Grace."
That caught Cersei's attention, though she did not reply. That would be beneath her.
"Perhaps bringing the gifts now would be wonderful," weaved the Spider.
"I confess I am slightly envious of what they might be."
Sebastian nodded to a nearby guard.
"For my lady," he said, indicating a small chest.
"An assortment of beautifully crafted amber jewelry. The books record that amber exists thanks to fossilized tree sap from thousands of years ago. May this jewelry grant you eternal beauty, my queen."
Cersei accepted it coolly.
"For Crown Prince Joffrey, the warrior, a sword."
Joffrey frowned at the seemingly common gift.
"Not just any sword. It was forged from metal extracted from a rock that fell from the skies. Light, sharp, requiring little maintenance, fit to serve as a fine weapon for Your Future Majesty."
Joffrey smiled, pleased by both blade and praise.
"And for Princess Myrcella and Prince Tommen," Sebastian said, opening two cases.
Inside lay wooden instruments, similar to lutes, exquisitely crafted.
The children's eyes shone with wonder, unsure of their purpose. Joffrey and Cersei cared little, absorbed in their own gifts.
"Is that a new instrument, young Sebastian?" guessed Varys.
"Indeed, Master Varys. Made from a small weirwood tree by my own hands. They will not rot, and they exist to bring you joy throughout your lives," Sebastian explained sincerely.
Myrcella beamed. Tommen looked puzzled.
"Hey, lad," Robert said, "you going to play it or what?"
"Of course, Your Majesty. Enjoy the show, along with a Northern delicacy I brought."
Sebastian signaled the servants. Ice cream and chilled water were served.
"Eat slowly," he said, ostensibly to the children.
He opened his case, took out his weirwood violin and bow, and began to play.
"I present to you: Canon in D."
Wonder filled the room as he played, while children and adults alike delighted in the strange frozen dessert.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Unnamed room
"You're leaving, brat," said Robert later.
Sebastian nodded.
"Too soon," Robert muttered.
"Lord Stark needs me," Sebastian replied.
"Why now? Why you? And why Ned?" Robert pressed.
Sebastian considered the question. No servants. No birds. No guards.
He removed his mask and smiled, handsome, sharp-featured, red eyes like polished rubies, a face reminiscent of distant Yi Ti.
"Lord Stark is honorable to a fault, naive and arrogant in his own ways. I am none of those. For while wolf must have honor, the dog lives and dies by it's loyalty."
They stared at each other until Robert broke into a genuine smile. He raised a hand and ruffled Sebastian's hair, much to the butler's annoyance.
"Glad to hear it. Keep yourself sharp,and.... visit…, for Myrcella's sake." lied the King.
"Not for your queen?" Sebastian jabbed lightly. "Rumors of her patience and magnanimity reach even the North."
"HAHAHAHA!" Robert's boisterous laughter filled the room.
Sebastian smirked.
"See you, old man. And gain more weight, soon your belly will grow another belly."
Robert playfully tried to smack him, but sebastian evaded and left quickly
_ _ _ _ __ _ _ _ _ _
A/N: low and behold another chapter, i think. Like, comment, drop a stone and dont expect much from me.
I will leave and image of a dogo in the comments