IMMORTAL | SER HARWIN STRONG | ON HOLD

nine.

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111 A.C

SWORDS CLASHING, STEEL ON STEEL AND THE TELLTALE SHIFTING OF ARMOURED BODIES PUSHING AGAINST ONE ANOTHER PERMEATED THE TRAINING YARD. Despite the rare bout of rain that bathed the once-sunbaked bricks of the Red Keep, the small gathering of men was unperturbed by the change in weather as they watched with eager grins as Rylan Strong and Baela Targaryen circled one another. Overhead the princess' bronze beast circled the Keep, chirps and trills vibrating within his chest with every successful blow landed by his beloved rider.

Body lithe, with blackened armour wrapped around her limbs like that of a second skin, Baela danced away from the reach of her opponent's sword, her own raising the strike its flat edge against the man's forearm, knocking his weapon from his grasp. Light steps carried her every movement as she circled Rylan's figure, bemusement twinkling in her lilac irises as she watched him scramble to take up his sword once more. A quiet huff passed his lips, drowned out by the laughter of those around him- that of his eldest brother being loudest second only to the circling dragon's chortles.

"Oh come on, you can do better than that!" The Targaryen woman jests.

"By the Gods, how are you so fast?!" Rylan huffed indignantly, readjusting his grip.

"Using my size to my advantage was but the first of many things Daemon has taught me over the years." The princess grinned back, twirling her blade almost mockingly.

Another swing. Another failed attempt to dodge. Rylan Strong is disarmed yet again.

Harwin Strong cracks up, hearty chuckles slipping past his lips as he steps forward, clasping his brother's hand in his own and tugging him back onto his feet. The small collection of men, a mix of both King's Guards and City Watchmen, began forking over payment for their previously placed bets, snickers at the Sworn Swords expense following the exchange of coin. "Better luck next time little brother."

"Aye," Rylan grumbled halfheartedly. "Just you wait, Breakbones, it's your turn next."

Before another word could be uttered, hurried footsteps approached pulling focus away from the playful jibes and onto the scurrying handmaiden. Cheeks flushed and chest heaving, it was evident that Tayla Parne had likely run from one side of the Keep to the next, a roll of parchment clutched tightly within her left hand whilst the right was occupied with preventing her skirts from tripping her. The rushed nature of her loyal handmaiden washed all humour from Baela's face as she made to meet the woman halfway.

Tayla's pace only slowed once she'd met the eyes of the princess, her left hand extending as the two reached one another. The brunette schooled her expression, taking in a lone deep breath to collect her decorum before she spoke. "There's been a raven from the Vale, princess. It carried this and another proclaiming its urgency."

"Thank you, Tayla," Baela uttered, brows furrowing as she took the parchment from her. Breaking the seal, she wasted no time reading over the contents as concern grew within the pit of her stomach.

Princess Baela,

I apologise for the inconvenience I am sure to cause you however upon wedding your brother you told me that should I ever require anything then I was simply to send for you. It appears the time has come when I have little choice but to take you up on your word, good sister. I cannot trust the matter at hand to a raven, and so I ask that you visit me in the Vale away from prying eyes and ears.

I await your arrival, Rhea Royce.

Baela Targaryen remembered the day of her brother's wedding with distinct clarity, recollecting her words to Lady Rhea Royce with ease. Daemon's distain for his Lady wife was well known by all but none moreso than Baela herself, his forced marriage had been why he fought so vehemently for her own freedom from marriage, and it was with that distain in mind that she had extended her hand to her good sister. She loved her brother, truly she did, but he was all too often ruled by his anger and it was often cause for concern.

Rhea Royce had been so insistent that she would never need to call upon her for assistance, and yet here she was doing exactly that. Worry gnawed at her insides as she carefully rerolled the parchment and handed it back to Tayla. "Please burn this, ensure no one else can read its contents."

"Of course, Princess." Just as quickly as she'd appeared, Tayla Parne was gone, moving to carry out her princess' command.

"I apologise gentlemen but it would seem I am needed elsewhere, training for the tourney shall have to wait," Not a single man argued the matter, each nodding their farewells to the princess. The Targaryen woman turned to her sworn sword once again. "Ser Rylan, would you accompany me to see Viserys?"

Stowing his blade, the man wordlessly offered up his arm to the princess. "Naturally, Princess."

And so Harwin Strong was left alone, watching his brother and his dearest princess depart in search of the king. Something troubled Baela Targaryen, he knew that much and in turn it troubled him. Without knowing the details of whatever was within the missive the princess had received there was little he could do to ease her burden, all he could do was await her return.

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CONVINCING VISERYS TO ALLOW HER TO LEAVE FOR THE VALE HAD BEEN NO EASY FEAT. So close to the tourney, a mere matter of days separating the event from the present moment, it had been warranted that her eldest brother had suspected her intentions to be little more than a ploy to get out of making her match as she'd been commanded. With the promise to return before the tourney commenced, and a great deal of pleading, Viserys had finally relented.

With the king's blessing, preparations for Baela Targaryen's departure were quickly made.

Clad in the very same armour she'd been training in, Baela mounted Syrrith with ease. Following the princess' lead, Rylan Strong took his place within the dragon's saddle without hesitation, a small satchel of necessities strapped over his shoulders.

With her word as her bond, Baela Targaryen bid her beloved dragon to take to the skies.

The Lady of Runestone had called, and she would answer with haste.

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Beth's notes:

I am so damn excited for what's to come. I have had this idea in mind since chapter one and I just can't wait for all to be revealed.

Any guesses on why Rhea needs Baela's help? I'd love to hear any theories!

Thanks for reading!