Discover Top Posts Tagged with #hotd inspired

A Tale of Swords and Crowns

Rating: M

Summary: When a group of rebellious knights and soldiers threatens the Realm’s peace, the Lord Commander of the Crown’s Grand Army takes a host of loyal soldiers to bring justice to the outlaws. Meanwhile, the Heir to the Iron Throne meets with the reigning monarch and one of the royal advisors.

OR

The Game-of-Thrones/House-of-the-Dragon-inspired RivaMika fic that no one asked for.

---

Author's Note: Hi, all! So, as mentioned in a previous post, I've been working on a Rivamika AU that's based on GOT/HOTD. It took me a while to write my ideas out, but I finally did it! Haha.

For the purposes of transparency, I took a lot of creative liberties here. After all, this is a fanfic. Hahaha. At any rate, I hope that this story still gives off a decent GOT/HOTD vibe. I also hope that you guys will like it!

This story is on Ao3! Here's the link:

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

But if you guys prefer reading here on Tumblr, then the story's just below!

Tagging: @onigiri-dorkk Hi, friend! I saw your comment on the post which showed a sneak-peek of the fic. So, I thought of tagging you. Hehe.

Sheep bleat as they are ushered by shepherds down the wide dirt path which serves as their village's main road. On either side of the said road are rows of wooden-and-stone cottages, and families can be seen having breakfast inside their homes through the open windows of their homes.

Also walking down the same road are men and women with baskets in hand, carrying varieties of produce and vegetables grown at the small farms on the village's western perimeter. As the men and women walk, a small group of children run by them, laughing and chasing one another.

“Bet you can’t catch me!”

“Oh, I’m goin’ to get you!”

The adults pause momentarily to tell the children to be careful.

“Be careful!” one woman yells, adjusting her hold on her basket. “You might get hurt!”

One man, whose carrying basket is secured to his back by leather shoulder straps, also calls out:

“Watch out for incoming horses or flocks!”

Save for well-meaning warnings, life in the small village goes on quietly and without much fuss. Shepherds tend to their flocks, farmers to their lands, tradesmen to their shops, and mothers to their children.

The children eventually find their way to the humble archway, which serves as the entry point of their village. The first four children turn around, wanting to continue their game without leaving the village. The last child, a young boy of six years, moves to follow them but stops in his tracks when he sees something approaching in the distance.

The young boy squints his eyes, trying to see what is coming to their village. He sees men on horses, and his eyes widen in amazement when he sees that they are a big group. He wonders if they are wandering travelers. And when he sees that some of them are carrying banners, he starts wondering if they are an entertainment fair.

“Micah!”

The young boy turns to his right and sees his father coming toward him.

“What are you doing here standing in the middle of the road?” the man, looking to be around 30 years, asks.

“I think there’s a fair coming to the village, father!” young Micah exclaims with a smile. “Look!” he excitedly points to the ever-approaching group of men on horses. “There must be a hundred men coming!”

His father looks in the direction he's pointing, and sure enough, he sees a large group on horseback.

“That’s a huge number of people. And it looks like there are more than just a hundred,” he comments. “Seems like too many people for a fair.”

Squinting his eyes, the father tries to make out the colors of their banners, thinking that he might recognize the sigil of a noble House.

But as the men and their banners come closer, he realizes the banner does not belong to any noble House. His eyes widen in alarm when he sees the image on the banners: a broken castle in flames. A bead of sweat forms on his temple when he spots the red-haired man at the very front of the group.

“That ain’t no fair!” He exclaims before quickly grabbing his son. Young Micah barely has any time to react as his father hoists him on his shoulder and starts running down the road like a madman.

“Father! What’s wrong?!” Micah asks, clearly confused.

“Everyone run!” his father hollers, ignoring his son’s question. “Ser Floch and the Kingswood Brotherhood are coming! Ser Floch and the Kingswood Brotherhood are coming!”

At his exclamations, people begin panicking and screaming. Tradesmen cease their laboring to grab weapons, mothers fearfully shout for their children, and families hastily exit their homes and load whatever they can on their small horse-ridden carts.

One man gets on his horse and gallops down the main village road, urgently ringing a bell in one hand and screaming a warning to every household he rides past: “The Kingswood Brotherhood is coming to raid us! The Brotherhood is coming to raid us!”

---

A quarter-mile outside the village, 200 men on horseback ride toward it. Despite the unified formation of the group, the men wear no uniform. Instead, they are dressed in different colors and are wearing different kinds of armor and chainmail. As they get closer, they unsheathe swords, unholster war hammers, and prepare torches to be lit later.

At the head of the marching formation is a young man with distinctive red hair, dressed in black chainmail and dark armor. As they get closer, they start hearing fearful screams and cries.

“Take this village!” the red-haired man screams, raising his long sword. The men pass beneath the village’s archway, and the screaming and crying become louder. “Burn their farms! Steal their wares and coins! Kill their cattle! Strike down any man who gets in your way!”

“Yes, Ser Floch!”

The group storms the village, and the ground shakes as their horses collectively rampage down the streets.

Upon the orders of their Ser Floch, the Brotherhood begins its pillaging. Cottages and shops are looted for coins, wares, and anything of value. Granaries and farms are burned to the ground, while sheep and other cattle are slaughtered. Any bold men who try to fight back or defend their properties are stricken down instantly and mercilessly.

The inhabitants are thrown into an even greater panic as they flee towards the exit at the other end of the town. As the Brotherhood lays waste to their village, they run and ride as fast as they can, not daring to look back.

---

“Long live the Brotherhood!”

“Huzzah!”

The rowdy cheers ring in the open air as the Kingswood Brotherhood rides across open fields., Fresh from a successful raid, the men laugh and cheer, feeling emboldened and powerful. Their sacks jiggle with their stolen bounties as their horses traverse the lands beyond the recently-sacked village.

“Cheers, my brothers!” Floch hollers from his position at the head of their formation. “Cheers to yet another successful mission! Together, we will save this kingdom! The smallfolk and the Realm may not understand us now. But once our goal has been realized, history will know us as heroes!”

The men behind him roar in approval.

“Long live, Ser Floch!”

“Huzzah!”

They cheer and roar as they ride onwards, looking for their next conquest. The rowdy laughs and merry-making continue as they move toward a large, sloping hill.

And just as they reach the very bottom of the hill, they suddenly feel a rumbling from behind the hill itself, and their merry-making slowly fades.

“Halt!” Floch yells, yanking the reins of his horse to command it to a stop. Behind him, his men follow suit, and dozens of horses neigh forcefully at the abrupt halting.

The men then feel the rumbling move from behind the hill to its very top. A sense of foreboding bleeds into the air as it becomes stronger, and the boisterous, jovial mood is now completely gone.

Soon, another group on horseback appears on top of the hill and rides down toward the Brotherhood, causing the ground to shake with the marching of their mighty steeds.

Unlike the non-uniformed thieves, the group from atop are all dressed in uniform gray steel armor and have numbers of 300. This group's right and left flanks carry banners – all banners are dark-blue, with the image of three intersecting swords enclosed in a circle.

At the head of this group's vanguard is a dark-haired man with razor-sharp steel-blue eyes. The dark-grey sash across his armored torso distinguishes him from the rest of his soldiers.

"Surrender at once! In the name of the Crown!" the vanguard leader demands, deep voice imperious with absolute authority.

At the bottom of the hill, Floch grits his teeth in anger at the sight of the incoming forces.

However, the rest of the Brotherhood men exchange panicked yells as they watch the incoming forces ride toward them.

“That’s Ser Levi Ackerman!”

“The Realm’s Strongest Warrior?!”

“And that’s House Azumabito’s sigil! Those are men from the Crown’s Grand Army!”

“We should flee!”

“No, we should surrender! We might be spared that way!”

Fearful and rattled wailing spreads like fire amongst the Brotherhood, filling Floch’s ears. Exclamations about surrendering and pleading for mercy continue until he has finally had enough.

“WE WILL NOT SURRENDER!”

The Brotherhood men instantly go quiet at their leader’s angered exclamation.

All their eyes land on Floch as he instantly steers his horse to face them, his features set with fierce determination.

“Now is not the time to falter!” Floch yells. “We are the Kingswood Brotherhood, and we do not cower before danger!”

Even with the impending battle just behind them, the Brotherhood leader remains steady and unyielding as he faces his men.

“We’ve already come this far! To lose heart now would render all our sacrifices for naught!” Floch yells, eyes igniting with furious uproar. “Remember, we are the true vanguards of the Realm! Not the false knights who fly the Unworthy Monarch’s banner! And if we yield to them, we lose any right to call ourselves men!”

His men, who were previously unsettled by the sudden appearance of the soldiers, steadily become less wary, their leader’s words having touched their pride.

“We came together with the purpose of freeing the Realm from the Unworthy Monarch! And to surrender to the Unworthy’s forces would be going against everything we stand for! Better that we stand our ground with honor than to lay down our arms to them! If we yield, then we are nothing but spineless cowards!”

The Brotherhood men still look uneasy. Yet, they become more resolved, finding strength in their leader's conviction.

Floch then unsheathes his sword and raises it in the air with a mighty battle cry.

“Are you with me, brothers?!”

The men follow suit and grip their weapons.

“Yes, Ser Floch!”

“To battle then!”

---

As he and his soldiers continue riding down the hill, Levi observes the brotherhood of outlaws speak amongst themselves. From his viewpoint, the band of thieves stays completely still, not making any move to flee – an indication that they might surrender quietly.

However, the red-haired man leading them suddenly screeches that they will not surrender. Levi then watches their leader speak to the rest of the group. When the redhead raises his sword and screeches a battle cry, the thieves follow suit, also letting out ferocious battle cries and unsheathing their weapons.

Whatever the brat knight said must’ve worked.

Moments later, the outlaws begin marching onward, meeting them head-on with raised swords and war hammers.

“They’re not going to surrender!” Levi calls out to his soldiers. “So, we’re riding to battle! Archers! Nock your arrows!”

The mounted archers riding at the left and right flanks of the throng of soldiers grab arrows and draw their bowstrings.

“Loose!”

At his command, they unleash a volley of arrows into the sky and onto the outlaws charging at them.

“Get out of range!” Floch yells to his men, already yanking on the reins of his horse as he looks at the rain of arrows.

The Brotherhood riders scream as they scatter, breaking their unified formation to avoid getting hit. However, several men are still struck by arrowheads and fall from their horses.

“Archers! Halt!” Levi bellows. At his order, the archers instantly lower their bows.

“Their ranks have been scattered!” Levi announces. “All soldiers prepare for battle! Engage with discretion! Don’t you dare get killed by these bastards!”

“Yes, Lord Commander!”

The soldiers behind him instantly charge forward on their horses, swords raised and letting out battle cries.

As he charges into the fray, Levi sees 6 outlaws riding directly toward him, swords and spears in hand. Levi takes his own bow from his saddle and reaches for the arrows from his side quiver. With immense speed, he draws and shoots arrow after arrow, with each pointed tip piercing through the throats of each outlaw.

Sliding his bow onto his back, Levi draws his sword from his hip as he swerves around the now-riderless horses. With one hand on his horse’s reins, he charges toward a Brotherhood outlaw who drew out his own blade. The outlaw raises his arm, poised to strike. But before he can bring his blade down, Levi steers his horse to the right at the last minute and rapidly swings his sword, seamlessly hacking his enemy’s arm.

As the now one-armed soldier screams in horror, Levi rides onward and swings his sword again, slicing the throat of another incoming enemy. Some blood from the fatal gash land on Levi’s armor as he thrusts his sword through the chest of yet another Brotherhood brigand before quickly pulling it out to swing at another foe.

As the battle rages on, battle screams are roared, steel clashes against steel, and blood is spilled.

---

“We finally tracked down the Brotherhood and defeated them for good. They won’t be terrorizing anyone anymore.”

“Aye. We finally did it after months of following their traces all over the Crownlands.”

The voices sound distant and muffled as they register in Floch’s ears. A moment later, he also hears the faint sound of armor clinking and boots thumping against the ground.

“I still don’t know how they managed to evade us all this time. More than half a year passed since we left King’s Landing to start this military campaign against them.”

“Ser Floch used to be an army captain, remember? He’s good at evasion tactics.”

As the sounds and voices become louder, Floch blearily opens his eyes, rousing himself from unconsciousness. He shakes his head slightly as he gathers his bearings. Still feeling groggy, he realizes he's slumped against a wooden pole. He then tries to lift his hands, only to find that his wrists have been cuffed together behind his back. The short chain linking the metal cuffs is connected to a longer chain wrapped around the wooden pole.

“He’s awake,” he hears one voice say. “Go and tell the Lord Commander.”

Lifting his head, Floch sees that he's in a makeshift holding cell made of thin wooden beams. His head throbs with a persistent ache as light filters through the beams. The throbbing pain dulls his presence of mind, and he also finds that he can't remember what happened to him. Incoherent thoughts swirl in his head as he tries to process his situation. A few seconds later, he sees two figures dressed in steel armor enter the open doorway of the cell.

“Ser Floch. You’re awake,” the first figure greets with a grim but otherwise expressionless voice. Still dazed, Floch manages to register the man’s appearance – tall, slim with nape-length light brown hair and a growing beard.

"In case you're wondering how you ended up here, you were unhorsed in the middle of combat and fell unconscious," he explains as he and his companion work on unfastening the long chain linking his metal cuffs to the wooden pole. "We found it dishonorable to slay you while you lay sleeping. So, we placed you in this holding cell to wait until you awoke. But now that you've woken, you'll face sentencing and execution for your crimes."

Floch barely has any time to process what he just heard before the two armored soldiers grab him by the arms and roughly haul him up to his feet, his wrists still bound.

When they step out of the holding cell, Floch sees they're in the middle of camp – dark grey tents are propped up all around, and soldiers unload supplies and weapons from carts.

Still in a state of shocked confusion, Floch’s eyes spot the banners flying on top of the tents. A moment passes before the sight triggers a sudden rush of memories in Floch’s mind.

He recalls furiously rousing his brothers to take up arms and go to battle. He then recalls leading the charge against the incoming forces and quickly ordering them to get out of range when a hail of arrows rained on them.

Lost in his own recollections, he barely hears the japes and jeers of the crowd that had gathered around him.

“Prisoner to the execution block!”

“Death to the traitor!”

“Down with Floch the Menace!”

The flood of flashbacks ends with a memory of him swinging his sword at an armored soldier before being struck in the stomach with a hammer. The very last things he witnessed before losing consciousness were seeing and hearing his brothers scream as they fought.

“My brothers!” Floch sputters, snapping back to reality.

In his new-found state of alertness, the red-haired knight turns his head wildly, as if hoping that he’d see any of his brothers-in-arms amongst the crowd.

Turning to his right, he gets a good look at the soldier holding his right arm captive in a vice-like grip. His eyes widen in incredulity when he sees that the soldier is a young woman with dark-brown hair tied into a ponytail.

“What is a woman doing here wearing armor?!” Floch bellows. “Are you trying to insult me?! A camp of soldiers is no place for a woman! Unhand me at once!”

Floch thrashes and attempts to yank his arms free. However, his captors hold fast and continue to drag him to the executioner block.

“You are correct that I am a woman, Ser,” the woman soldier states as she and her comrade tighten their hold on the prisoner.

“But I am also a knight. I am Ser Sasha of House Braus,” she explains, introducing herself. “And my companion to the left is Ser Jean of House Kirstein,” the rogue knight's thrashing has slowed their pace, but they still move onward. "Under the new royal decree, women are now allowed equal opportunity to serve in the Grand Army and to earn knighthood. And I’ve earned the right to both through proving my valor and martial skill!”

"Preposterous! I do not recognize this new decree!" Floch yells, his features becoming distorted with fury. "It is ridiculous and goes against tradition! There are reasons why only men go to battle while women stay at home with the children! But the Unworthy Monarch pays no heed to these reasons because she is a woman herself!"

The crowd of soldiers jeers in response to his outburst.

“The Queen is a good ruler! And women can be just as capable warriors as men if not even more!” another female soldier hollers from within the crowd. “The Crown Princess herself is hailed as being worth a hundred warriors for her feats as a commander of both the Vale’s and the North’s regional forces!”

“Aye! All of it is true!” another soldier, this time male, exclaims in concurrence. “The Good Queen is just as good as the late Good King! And speaking of the Princess, you and your Brotherhood could’ve used someone like her during the earlier battle, Floch!”

The surrounding crowd laughs uproariously, and Floch can only see seethe – too enraged to retort.

The knight known as 'Floch the Menace' recalls that, before he deserted his post as a captain of the Crown's Grand Army, only men were allowed to serve as soldiers. However, each constituent kingdom has its own rules for its own regional forces. In particular, the Vale and the North allow both men and women to serve – something that the rogue knight always found uncouth and ridiculous.

---

The armored soldiers have gathered around a clearing some yards from the encampment. In the center of the clearing is Floch, who had been brought down to his knees in front of a wooden stump. On either side of him are Ser Sasha Braus and Ser Jean Kirstein, who keep him kneeling with strong grips on his shoulders.

“Commander on the floor!” comes a loud voice.

Save for Sers Sasha and Jean, the soldiers thump their fists against their breastplates as Ser Levi walks toward the executioner’s block.

“Make way for Ser Levi of House Ackerman of the North!” the announcer, a tall soldier with emerald green eyes and short brown hair, proclaims as he walks beside the knight in question. “Prince-consort to the Crown Princess, Heir to Winterfell, Lord Commander of the Grand Army of the Crown, and the Realm’s Strongest Warrior!”

The rhythmic thumping continues as Levi makes his way to the executioner stump. A man of 30 years with raven-dark hair, cutting steel-blue eyes, and an ever-calm expression on his pale and angular face, Ser Levi Ackerman exudes an aura of quiet confidence. His fitted steel armor, which is decorated with a velvet grey sash that signifies his high rank, and his sheathed steel blade at his hip, all serve to bolster his presence with an undeniable air of authority.

Levi stops a foot away from the stump, looking down on the rogue knight kneeling on its other side. The Lord Commander then raises a hand in the air. The moment he closes it to a fist, the rhythmic thumping stops, and all the soldiers go quiet.

The Brotherhood leader grits his teeth and glares at the Lord Commander impertinently. Ser Levi merely stares back coolly.

“Ser Floch of House Forrester,” Levi announces the name of the rogue knight, his voice ringing loud, clear, and even. “You are charged with violating the laws of the Realm and the laws of men. You are charged with the crimes of treason, rebellion, murder, theft, plunder, and arson.

“What say you in your defense?”

Eyes burning with unadulterated rage, Floch’s face twists into an ugly sneer.

“This is what I say to you and your fucking Queen!”

Tilting his head up, Floch makes a show of spitting at the Lord Commander’s feet. The spittle lands a mere inch away from Levi’s boots.

"If anyone deserves to be sentenced for my crimes, it should be the Unworthy Monarch!" Floch screeches. "Had she heeded the Kingswood Brotherhood's demand to abdicate the throne, then none of the pillages or killings would have occurred! She is the true traitor to the people!"

The rogue knight then turns his hateful stare toward the crowd of soldiers. “She could’ve stopped us by surrendering the throne, but she didn’t!” he yells, voice laced with pure venom. “Don’t you fucking cunts ever deny that! My brothers and I only proved that a woman cannot protect the people of the Realm! Any leader who cannot protect their people is unworthy! You fucks are defending an unworthy monarch!”

Levi is unmoved by the impassioned accusations.

“For someone who was once renowned as a skillful tactician, you embarrass yourself with such awful logic," he remarks wryly. "You chose to kill and destroy on your own free will, yet you blame another for your actions. Any decent Maester would deem that you’ve regressed into a half-wit.”

"Furthermore, lest you forget, the lords of Westeros had already deemed the Queen worthy when they confirmed her position as the late King's heir during the Great Council of Harrenhal two springs ago. They decided that the King’s only child, who learned all she knows at his knee, was more worthy than an unknown distant male relation who never set foot in court,” Levi states, remaining calm in the face of the rogue knight's heated provocations.

“And I will not hesitate to remind you, Ser Floch,” Levi adds, steel-blue eyes piercing through the Brotherhood leader, “that your own lord father was one of those lords.”

The Lord Commander remembers how the typically empty halls of the monstrosity of a castle were filled to the brim by over one thousand people. Lords of both great and vassal Houses attended with their families, household knights, and servants. The decaying ruins were cleaned and decorated for the occasion wherein all the lords would vote on who would rule them next after the old King.

In an unprecedented historical moment, the Lords Paramount and Lords Vassal elected the then-Crown Princess, Keiko Azumabito, as the Heir to the Iron Throne. The Crown Princess eventually sat on the Iron Throne as the first Queen of the Realm a mere month after the Great Council when her father passed.

“Huzzah for the Queen!” one soldier proclaims proudly and vigorously in response to Levi’s statements.

“Huzzah!” the rest of the forces echo.

The Lord Commander’s words and the cheering of the soldiers only serve to heighten Floch’s fury, and the rogue knight’s face becomes as red as his hair.

“My father and the other lords were fools!” he bellows, growling with undisguised loathing.

"Only kings have ever brought peace and prosperity to the Realm! The Conqueror from Valyria who united our previously war-torn lands was a man. And from him, a long line of intelligent kings came! All of whom maintained peace and stability in the Realm ever since!” Floch screeches.

“Putting a woman on the throne breaks this line of Kings, and therefore, it will break the unprecedented era of prosperity! Mark my words; the Realm will fall under her rule! All seven kingdoms will burn to ashes!”

The Brotherhood leader’s screams ring through the open clearing, startling nearby birds into taking flight into the sky.

Face still red with anger, Floch heaves heavily, winded from furiously screeching his views and accusations.

Levi looks at the rogue knight for a moment. He wonders how a promising knight who faithfully served the Realm for years could have fallen so deeply into disgrace.

The Lord Commander then raises his eyes to the two soldiers who had been holding the traitor down by the shoulders. Once Ser Sasha and Ser Jean meet his gaze, Levi nods down to the stump.

The two knights push the prisoner down onto the stump, with his head hanging over the edge.

Levi then walks over to the right side of the stump and unsheathes his sword. He points the blade to the ground and grips the handle with both hands before he speaks:

"Ser Floch of House Forrester, for the crimes of theft, plunder, and arson, you are hereby stripped of your titles and declared as a false knight. And for the crimes of treason, rebellion, and murder, you are hereby sentenced to death," the Lord Commander states, deep voice reverberating in the clearing.

“In the name of Keiko of House Azumabito, the first of her name, Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Lady Regnant of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm. I, Levi of House Ackerman of the North, Lord Commander of the Grand Army of the Crown, hereby pass these sentences.”

Levi then raises his sword in the air. Sunlight catches in the steel blade as he swings it down and cuts cleanly through the false knight's neck.

Floch’s head falls and rolls on the grass, features still twisted with rage.

“Down with the traitor!” one soldier exclaims.

“Down with the traitor!”

The rest of the forces holler and cheer, celebrating the end of the menace who led the terrorizing of innocent villagers.

"Jean, Sasha," Levi calls out to the two knights amidst the cheering. "Store Floch's remains away. Afterward, go to the nearest sept and ask for some Silent Sisters to return to camp with you. Once they've preserved his remains, take 15 soldiers and escort the Sisters and the remains to King's Landing. Forrester's head needs to go on a spike at the Traitor's Walk as soon as possible. The rest of the military host and I will depart in a few days."

“Understood, Lord Commander,” Jean and Sasha reply before preparing to collect the headless body and the severed head.

“Eren,” Levi calls out the green-eyed knight who heralded his arrival.

Eren instantly approaches and stands at attention. “Yes, Lord Commander?”

“Clean my sword,” Levi says, handing over the bloodied blade. “And once you’re done, prepare a raven. I’m sending word to my wife.”

Eren takes the sword and bows. “Understood, Ser.”

---

- A fortnight later -

In a sprawling, bustling city leagues away, three figures spar against one another under a roofed courtyard.

“Hragh!”

Wood beats against wood as two knights wearing gilded armor and white cloaks swing their training swords against their opponent. Their cloaks flutter behind them as they attempt to land hits, only for their common opponent to parry them at every turn with expert swings of her twin training swords.

The lady's short ponytail of dark hair, which is sticking out from beneath her helmet, flutters behind her nape as she continues to strike back, with the force of her strikes steadily causing her opponents to move backward. She twirls herself as she parries, her movements swift, quick, and graceful. If she wore a dress instead of a plain tunic, dark pants, and breastplate armor, the common bystander would assume she was dancing instead of fighting.

The three move across the smooth marble floor of a wide and open courtyard facing the calm waters of the nearby bay. Tall, wide pillars support the thick granite roof providing shade to the training combatants. The grounds beside the courtyard are lush with blooming flower bushes and well-trimmed grass.

One knight attempts to strike low, swinging his wooden blade at chest level. Seeing an opening, their lady opponent strikes his helmeted head. He groans in pain as he crashes onto the ground. As his sword clatters from his hand, the lady sets her dual swords onto the last knight standing.

“Hnng!" the remaining knight grunts as he raises and tilts his lone sword to defend himself. He can only keep up with the lady's quick pace for a short moment before she disarms him and sends him tumbling down on his back.

With one last fluid twirl, the lady stops and holds her twin swords aloft by her sides. She then turns to two nearby squires – young boys around the ages of 13 who had been spectating. The eyes of the boys are widened in wonder.

“Come,” she beckons them to her.

The squires snap out of their stupor and approach, bowing when they are standing in front of her. When they upright their torsos, the lady hands them her training swords, helmet, and breastplate armor.

“Kindly take these to the armory for me,” she says, voice as gentle as her smile.

“Right away, Princess,” they say in unison, bowing again before departing.

She watches the two boys leave before turning to her defeated adversaries.

“My good Sers,” she addresses the knights with a slight smile, “I hope I did not seriously damage you.”

"You did not, Princess," the most-recently vanquished knight replies as he sits upright. "Although, I fear Ser Gelgar and I will be sporting bruises for a week.”

“Ser Mike is correct, Princess Mikasa,” Ser Gelgar, the first one to have been beaten, comments as he removes his helmet to cradle the side of his brown-haired head. "Though, I think I will grow a bump instead of a bruise."

Princess Mikasa laughs lightly as she approaches her sparring partners.

“Arise, good Sers,” she says, offering a hand to Ser Mike first. The knight smiles as he accepts the proffered hand. Once Ser Mike stands upright, she goes to Ser Gelgar and likewise helps him rise to his feet.

Dressed in simple training garb, no one would have suspected that Mikasa, who is 28 years of age, was a woman, much less the Crown Princess. However, her manners and poise give away her noble upbringing.

“Two men of the Queensguard defeated by a single warrior. I fear for her Grace's safety," a deep voice remarks, slightly amused.

Turning to the pathway leading to the courtyard, Mikasa sees another knight wearing gilded armor and a white cloak. With his helmet resting in the crook of his arm, his head of blonde hair shines under the sunlight.

“Lord Commander!” the two knights greet the newcomer as they stand at attention.

“Ser Erwin,” Mikasa greets with a smile. “How much of our sparring session did you see?”

Tall with sea-blue eyes and a stately appearance, Ser Erwin Smith is the image of a storybook hero with the skills to complement his looks. A renowned battle strategist with proven valor and skill, the second son of the noble House Smith of the Vale was given the white cloak 10 years ago, at the age of 25, for his service during the Greyjoy Rebellion. When the previous Lord Commander passed away 3 years ago, he was elevated to the position, with his gift for strategy making him the best candidate for the post.

Ser Erwin stands a foot away from the Princess and bows deferentially before replying.

“Just enough to see you soundly defeating my Queensguard brothers, Princess," Erwin responds with a slight smile. "I admit it is a blessing that the only one in the Realm who can match your prowess is the Prince-consort, or else the Queensguard would need more than seven members.”

"For my mother's sake, I quite agree," Mikasa states, sounding amused. "However, I think that you did not come here to spectate. And speaking of the Prince-consort, have you come to tell me that Levi has finally returned? It has been days since we received word that they annihilated the Brotherhood.”

She asks the question in a jesting tone, but the sentiment behind it is genuine. Mikasa has not seen her husband for more than half a year since he left King’s Landing to lead the military campaign against the notorious outlaw group. Although he’s sent her letters, she still longs for his company every night.

“I’m afraid not, Princess,” Erwin says, a knowing gleam entering his blue eyes.

“I see,” Mikasa says, a feeling of disappointment settling in. “So, why have you come here?”

“I was ordered by Her Grace to inform you to meet her in her personal study in an hour,” the Queensguard Lord Commander states.

Mikasa raises a brow in surprise. “Did she say why? If I recall correctly, I do not have any meetings to attend today.”

"Her Grace said that she is meeting the Grand Maester today and that she would like for you to join the meeting," Erwin replies.

Mikasa briefly wonders what her mother wishes to discuss with her and the Grand Maester. But then she realizes that she’ll find out soon enough.

“Very well, then,” Mikasa says before turning to the other Queensguard men.

“Ser Mike, Ser Gelgar. Thank you for training with me today,” the Princess states with a cordial nod.

The two knights bow at the waist in response.

“It was our pleasure, Princess.”

---

Warm afternoon sunlight enters through arched open windows as Mikasa walks down the corridor leading to her mother’s study. When she turns a corner, she straightens the wrist cuffs of her long dark-gray dress, having changed out of her training garb earlier. If the meeting was just between her and her mother, she would not have bothered to change. Within the close circle of her family, there was an understanding that they could be lax about appearances when it was just them.

But in keeping with the rules of decorum, she always makes it a point to appear properly dressed when meeting with any of her mother’s advisors.

She eventually reaches the far end of the corridor where a Queensguard knight guards the double-door entrance of her mother’s study. The knight bows when she approaches before opening the door for her.

Saying a quick 'thank you' to the knight, she enters the study and sees her mother writing letters at her desk. The older woman looks up and smiles when she sees her daughter.

“Hello, my dear,” Queen Keiko greets, placing her quill down and rising from her desk.

“Mother,” Mikasa greets back with a smile as she walks toward her.

When her mother walks around the desk, Mikasa observes her state of dress. Even though she is the monarch of the entire Realm, Queen Keiko Azumabito dresses modestly. Her dark-blue dress is made of fine silk and fabric, but is cut and styled simply. Her long dark hair is also tied into a neat, simple bun without any elaborate hair pieces. The only noticeable adornment is the silver pendant around her neck, which has three intersecting blades enclosed in a circle – her House sigil, engraved on it.

The two women kiss each other on the cheek when they reach.

"Come, let's sit," Queen Keiko says, gesturing to the sitting area at the right corner of the study. Cups of wine and some biscuits have been placed on the table. "I've already called for the Grand Maester, and they should be here soon."

“What are we meeting the Grand Maester for?” Mikasa asks as they walk to the table. “Are you feeling sick with something? If so, shouldn’t Father also be here?”

Keiko laughs lightly. "I'm not sick, my dear," she says as she and her daughter take a seat. "And your father is overseeing the preparations for our trip to the High Sept later. So, he's busy at the moment. As for why we are meeting with the Grand Maester, you'll know soon enough."

The moment the Queen says the words, the doors of the study open. A second later, the Grand Maester enters.

“Good afternoon, Your Grace,” they bow to the Queen. “And to you as well, Princess,” they say as they turn and bow to Mikasa.

“Good afternoon, Grand Maester Hange,” the Queen greets. “Come and join us.”

Grand Maester Hange’s heavy, long, multi-linked chain rattles audibly when they straighten themselves upward. With a smile, they walk toward the sitting area, with the bottom end of their simple dark robe swishing across the floor.

With her eyes on the Grand Maester, Mikasa muses that she is still amazed by their youth even though she had already met them a long time ago. The previous Grand Maester who served on her late grandfather's Small Council was a wise, learned, but nearly ancient old man. In contrast, Grand Maester Hange is young, with dark brown hair tied into a ponytail. They look less than 40 years old – much younger than her mother, who is more than 50. The Princess can only wonder just how intelligent and brilliant they are to have been chosen by the Citadel as Grand Maester at such a young age.

“I was told that you were about to leave for a stroll in the city when I asked for you to come here,” Keiko says when the Grand Maester sits in the chair across from her. “I do apologize for that, but I have a matter I wish to address immediately.”

“It’s no problem, Your Grace,” Hange says with a smile, “I am at your service after all!”

They then look at the treats laid out on the table. "May I?" they ask, eyeing some cream-colored biscuits.

“Please do,” Keiko says with a sweeping gesture of her hand.

With a delighted grin, the Grand Maester grabs a biscuit and munches on it. The Queen also takes one and starts chewing at a more moderate pace.

"Grand Maester, if I may ask," Mikasa says, tone curious. "What were you planning to do in the city? I always hear that you spend a lot of time mingling with the citizenry in your free time. Do you have close friends in the city?"

Ever since the Grand Maester came to court, there have been reports of them being spotted in the streets of King’s Landing. They’ve been seen speaking with workers, asking merchants about their wares, and even offering medical aid to sick people on the streets.

Hange drinks from their cup of wine before responding.

"I'm not really close with anyone in particular, Princess. I just enjoy spending time with people," they reply, smiling. "And as for what I was planning to do in the city, I was going to visit a local sept to teach children and workers how to read. I offer my services to anyone interested, and I found that a fair number are!" they state with an animated gleam in their eyes. "I give lessons as often as I can."

Mikasa’s eyes widen in mild surprise before a small smile forms on her lips. “I see. It’s very kind of you to spend your spare time educating others,” she says before reaching for her own cup to take a drink.

“Thank you, Princess. I find it rather fulfilling!” the Grand Maester says enthusiastically. “And to be honest, I also learn many things from the people. I also get to hear a lot of interesting stories!”

“You seem very enthusiastic about teaching and learning, Grand Maester,” the Queen remarks, smiling. “That’s very commendable. And very fitting considering your position.”

“Thank you, Your Grace,” Hange beams widely, cheeks a bit flushed from the praises. Their grin lingers for a second longer before their expression becomes a bit soberer.

“However, I believe that you did not call me here to discuss my activities in the city,” the Grand Maester says, their tone knowing. “So, with what matter can I be of assistance?”

The Queen’s smile turns bashful. “You are correct on that score, Grand Maester.”

Hange and Mikasa look at the Queen with rapt eyes, both of them wondering what important matter the monarch wishes to discuss.

The Queen drinks from her cup of wine before speaking. When she lowers her cup, Mikasa sees that her smile has faded.

“As you know, when we convened with the rest of the Small Council a fortnight ago, the Princess relayed word that the Prince-consort and the host of soldiers he took with him have finally tracked down the Kingswood Brotherhood and vanquished them,” Keiko states, expression becoming more serious. “And that their leader, Ser Floch Forrester, had already been executed for his crimes against the Crown and the Realm. The false knight’s embalmed remains were also delivered to us by Silent Sisters two days after the meeting, and I had already ordered that his head be put on a spike at the Traitor’s Walk.”

The previously pleasant and amiable atmosphere becomes solemn at the shift in topic, and the Queen's expression turns more grim and pensive. The Princess and Grand Maester sit straighter, sensing that a vital discussion is afoot.

“And you are both also aware that when I first heard of the Brotherhood’s demand for me to abdicate as Queen more than half a year ago, I seriously considered it,” the Queen says. “While the throne was mine by both birthright and by vote of the lords of the Realm, I did not want innocent people to needlessly suffer because of me. The Brotherhood demanded my abdication in exchange for sparing defenseless villages from harm. So, at the time, surrendering my crown seemed like the right thing to do."

“But the Small Council advised me that to do so would do more harm than good,” Keiko remarks, a contemplative gleam in her eyes, “and that it would cause great instability in the Realm by stirring political strife.”

“In particular, I was counseled that abdicating due to pressure from a mere band of outlaws would have resulted in a disastrous fallout. I would have been viewed as a weak leader by everyone, even by my staunchest advocates. The lords of the Realm would have withdrawn their support for both me and my House. And the most logical consequence following that would have been a civil war for the throne, which would have resulted in massive causalities."

As the Queen continues to speak, her features become even more drawn, to the point of being forlorn.

"I was faced with two choices: to spare innocent smallfolk from the threat of a band of outlaws or to spare the entire Realm from the horrors of war. Neither choice was desirable. Yet, I still had to pick. So, I chose the lesser of the two evils – I remained on the throne and let the Brotherhood continue pillaging until the Crown's forces put a stop to them," the Queen says with a quiet, resigned tone. "I heeded the advice of the council because it was wise. But that doesn't change the fact that there were still people who suffered because of my choice."

From her seat, Mikasa notices that the gleam in her mother's eyes has become more melancholic. The Princess feels a pang in her chest, knowing that her mother still feels guilty even though her choice was the most practical one under the circumstances.

“The fault was with the Brotherhood, Mother,” Mikasa says, voice certain and confident. “It was never with you. You were not the one who set fire to their farms. Nor were you the one who stole from them, slaughtered their livestock, or killed them. You did not command them to do any of these atrocities, either. Under the laws of the Realm, and truthfully, even under the laws of basic sense, you are in no way responsible.”

“The Princess is correct, Your Grace,” Grand Maester Hange states firmly in agreement. "And if I may say so," they add, tone becoming gentler, "you should not be so harsh with yourself. The situation itself was unfair, and you had to make the least damaging choice."

Their statements prompt a smile on Keiko’s face. Even so, it’s still a sad one.

“I appreciate both of your kind words,” the Queen says. “Yet, the fact remains that my refusal to abdicate was the reason for the continued attacks. As Queen, it is my burden to accept and live with the consequences of my actions, no matter how I wish they never happened.”

"In the same vein, it is also my responsibility to make things right when I can," Keiko says resolutely.

“Floch Forrester’s crimes are not the sins of his father or his House. Even so, his crimes still destroyed the lives of innocent people. On this, it was agreed that it would not be just to seize all of House Forrester’s lands and fortunes since only one of its members is responsible. So, as a compromise, Lord Forrester was ordered to answer for his son’s deeds by surrendering all of the incomes derived from his lands and estates during this current year to make reparations to the affected smallfolk.

“And you both know that during our last Small Council meeting, I likewise decreed that a portion of the Royal Treasury funds shall be allocated to help with the reparations,” the Queen continues to elaborate. “While House Forrester’s annual income is already a handsome sum, I feel that the victims of the Brotherhood deserve to receive compensation from the Crown itself, considering that their suffering is a consequence of my decision. I cannot undo what has already been done. But I can help them rebuild."

“However, the day after the meeting, I started thinking that mere reparations aren’t enough – that financial aid is only the first step. I feel that there’s more that I can do. But I do not know what,” the Queen admits quietly.

She then directs her attention to the Grand Maester. “This is why I’ve called you here, Grand Maester Hange.”

Hange immediately straightens their posture as the Queen regards them intently.

“I admit that this kind of matter should be discussed with the entire Small Council present. However, the rest of them had already left King’s Landing to attend to official businesses,” Keiko says with a wry smile. “But I can no longer leave this concern unaddressed. And in truth, the presence of my other advisors would have probably been superfluous because I think you are the only one who can give me a good answer.”

The Grand Maester’s eyes widen in surprise. “I am, Your Grace?”

“Yes,” the Queen nods firmly. “Out of everyone on the council, you are the one who has spent the most time with smallfolk. You said it yourself: you have listened to them, taught them, and learned from them. I daresay that you understand their perspectives best.”

“So, I ask you… if you were in the place of the victims of the Brotherhood,” Keiko begins to say, voice turning soft, “Beyond mere financial aid, what else can I, as the Queen, do to make things right?”

The Queen's tone and expression are earnest, making it clear that the question is genuine. Her desire to do more is as plain as day, and Mikasa feels her admiration for her mother grow. Her grandfather was a dutiful king who did right by his people, but this is the first time the Princess has seen a monarch go out of their way to do more than what is required by duty.

Mikasa shifts her eyes to Hange and sees a look of wonderment on the Grand Maester’s face.

"That's an excellent question, Your Grace. And personally, I find it touching," Hange says, smiling with a sparkling gleam in their eyes, “And I do have an answer for you: emotional reparations.”

The Queen and the Princess exchange visibly confused looks, not understanding the Grand Maester’s answer.

“’Emotional reparations’?” Keiko asks, brows raised. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I,” Mikasa admits.

Hange chuckles lightly. “I will explain, Your Grace.”

“During the Small Council meeting, the Master of Coin said that he needs information from the affected villagers to determine allocations of coins for specific needs,” Hange begins to elaborate. "Concerning this, the Hand of the Queen said that he will send envoys to the villagers to collect such information. This is a practical measure, Your Grace. However, it also feels rather impersonal because the people are not interacting with you directly."

“On this, I suggest that instead of having the envoys collect information, Your Grace ought to make a royal progress to visit the villagers,” the Grand Maester explains with a gentle smile. "Now that the Brotherhood is no longer a threat, you can now venture the Crownlands without fear. And according to reports from both our Master of Whisperers and the Prince-consort, only farms and granaries were put to torch. Other infrastructures in the raided villages are still mostly intact. So, with a royal retinue of guards, courtiers, and servants, you can hold townhall meetings in the villages. This way, the villagers can tell you their needs directly. You will also have the opportunity to express your compassion for what they have suffered. In addition, you can also bring with you food and supplies that will help sustain them while the official reparations are still being arranged.”

Both Mikasa and her mother listen attentively as they follow the Grand Maester’s line of logic, with each statement making more and more sense.

“Based on my observations and experiences, people appreciate it when they are listened to. It makes them feel respected and that they matter. They also appreciate it when someone shows them kindness after the hardships they endured – doing so gives them hope that better days are coming!” the Grand Maester speaks animatedly, the gentle kindness in their voice mixed with enthusiasm.

“These things are particularly important because the Brotherhood’s victims would have felt traumatized, vulnerable, and helpless after being attacked. So, being heard by Your Grace personally will make them see and feel that you truly care about their needs and that their well-being is important to you. It will give them a sense of comfort, knowing that the Queen is there for them and with them. And hearing you express compassion will make them feel a sense of connection with you, Your Grace. And all of these things will do wonders for their morale and emotional healing. Hence the term ‘emotional reparations’.”

At that, the Grand Maester concludes their proposal with a quiet look of assuredness, confident in the advantages of their suggestions.

Mikasa remains quiet as she ponders over the suggestion. She never would have thought of it herself, but she definitely sees the intangible benefit it can provide to the smallfolk. The Princess then shifts her eyes to her mother. The Queen’s eyes seem to shine, as if she had been enlightened. A smile slowly forms across her lips, banishing the previously dreary expression that marred her features.

“Yes…” Keiko says quietly. “That is exactly the kind of answer I was looking for," she says, smiling widely. "Thank you, Grand Maester."

Hange beams at the positive response. “You’re welcome, Your Grace!”

---

The rest of the meeting goes smoothly as they speak about other related concerns. In particular, Mikasa expresses her support for the idea but raises security concerns. The Princess states that because they anticipate meeting large numbers of villagers, the Queensguard should be supplemented by a host of household knights and a host of Grand Army soldiers in case anyone tries to instigate violence.

“I understand that the purpose of the royal progress is to express our compassion and to personally hear their concerns,” the Princess states. “But given the extent of the damage caused by the Brotherhood, we must anticipate that some, if not all, of the affected villagers will feel some resentment because of their losses. And where there is resentment, there is always a chance that violence might occur. Therefore, we must also be cautious while being open.”

Both the Queen and the Grand Maester nod their heads in understanding.

“That is prudent, Princess,” Keiko says, smiling. “The King-consort and I will make arrangements with Ser Erwin and the Prince-consort.”

The Queen then turns to Hange.

“Well, that is all I wish to discuss with you today, Grand Maester. Thank you for your counsel. It is truly appreciated,” Keiko states, her tone earnest.

Hange beams widely. “I’m glad to have been of service, Your Grace.”

With that, the Grand Maester rises and bows to the two royals before heading for the door.

When the door closes, the Queen turns to the Princess.

“I understand that by calling you here, I interrupted you in the middle of your training regimen,” Keiko states. “With all your studies and our Small Council meetings, you don’t get to train as much as you used to. So, I know how much you value your designated training days.”

“On that score, I do apologize for interrupting you, my dear,” she says as she reaches for her daughter’s hand. “But I thought that you could learn something valuable from our meeting with the Grand Maester.”

Mikasa smiles as she gently grips her mother’s hand.

“It’s all right, Mother,” she says quietly. “I had actually just finished my training for the day when you called for me. And even if I hadn’t, I would not have minded being called to this meeting. I understand that as your Heir, I need to be well-versed in governance and politics. And I found Grand Maester Hange’s counsel to be very insightful. So, I’m actually very glad for this particular meeting.” Mikasa says, her smile widening. “And truth be told, I learn more from participating in and listening to actual discussions as compared to reading about the successes of our ancestors.”

The Queen chuckles lightly and regards the Princess with a proud look.

"I am pleased to know that you are taking your responsibilities as Heir seriously," Keiko says before kissing her daughter's forehead.

Just then, the doors to the study open again. When the two women turn their heads, they both smile at the newcomer.

“Hello, husband,” Keiko greets warmly.

“There are my two favorite ladies,” King Mikhail says, smiling as he sets his eyes on the Queen and Princess.

As he enters the room's threshold, sunlight from the open windows catches in his short dark-blonde hair, making it look brighter and shinier. He stops when he's a foot away from the sitting area table.

“I just saw the Grand Maester on my way here,” Mikhail comments. “I hope that your meeting with them was fruitful.”

"It was. I finally found the answer that has been eluding me these past few days,” Keiko responds with a smile. “So, are you here to collect me so that we can begin our trip to the Great Sept?”

“I am,” Mikhail states, placing a hand on the hilt of his longsword. “The Queensguard and City Watch retinues are ready, and so is the carriage. We are ready to embark if you are.”

The Queen chuckles lightly. “As always, my sworn protector never fails to make things easy for me.”

Mikasa lets out a small laugh.

"I swear, Father," the Princess begins to say with an amused twinkle in her eyes. "You are likely the first-ever royal consort in history who is also the monarch's sworn sword and shield. There is nothing wrong with it. But we have to admit that it is not very typical."

As Mikasa notes her father's state of dress, she muses that he does not look like a typical king either. Instead of wearing robes and fur coats, he wears a knee-length dark leather coat tied with a brown leather belt at the waist. On the lapel of his coat is a silver emblem depicting a shield with the letter 'A' emblazoned on its left side and a white falcon in flight on the right – the sigil of House Ackerman of the Vale. The coat's upper half is closed while the bottom half is open, revealing dark trousers and a pair of polished knee-length leather boots. The round collar of his silver chainmail also juts out from above the pointed collar of his coat. A sheathed longsword is also attached to his right hip.

King Mikhail is still dressed finely. Yet, his manner of dress allows him to be ready for combat at a moment’s notice – fitting for the two positions he holds.

The King laughs at his daughter's remark. "I made a vow to always protect your Mother when I married her, my dear. And what better way to do that than to pledge my numerous years of combat experience to her safety and protection?"

Mikasa raises her hands in mock defeat. "Fair enough," she jests.

“I’m just glad that your late grandfather didn’t raise your father to the Kingsguard when we were younger,” Keiko interjects with an amused smile. “With how skilled your father is, a part of me was worried that our courtship would’ve been cut short.”

"Well, I'm thankful that never occurred," Mikhail states, amused. "But I'm afraid we mustn't keep the High Septon waiting, my Queen. We did agree on meeting him before sundown.”

“Quite right,” Keiko nods. When she pushes her chair back, her husband offers a hand to help her stand. Mikasa also rises from her seat.

“Well, daughter, we will be departing for the Great Sept shortly,” the Queen says, turning to the Princess. “Ser Erwin and two other Queensguard knights will remain here should you require anything from them. We trust that you can keep yourself entertained and occupied during our absence?” she asks with a teasing look.

Mikasa smiles. “Of course, Mother.”

---

After bidding her parents farewell, Mikasa watches the royal carriage and the retinue of knights and soldiers depart beyond the gates of the Red Keep. Once guards begin to close the gate, Mikasa turns back to the castle’s entrance.

The Princess walks through the vast hallways of the Keep, nodding politely at servants who bow to her as she passes by them. She then reaches the wing of the castle where the Great Library is located, intent on reading some books before supper in a few hours.

She is just about to turn a corner when she hears someone call out to her.

“Princess, wait a moment.”

Halting in her tracks, Mikasa turns around and sees Ser Erwin approaching her.

“Ser Erwin,” she greets as the knight bows to her. “Is something wrong?”

"Nothing is wrong, Princess," Erwin states as he uprights himself. "I am here to inform you that the Prince-consort has returned, and he wishes to see you," he says with a slight smile.

Completely surprised, Mikasa’s eyes widen. The Lord Commander says it so plainly and without any preamble that it takes her a moment to process the news. Earlier in the afternoon, she asked about her husband, and now, she’s hearing that he has returned to her. It seems somewhat strange and surreal.

When the shock dissolves, a broad smile breaks across her face.

"That is wonderful!" Mikasa states gleefully. "When did he arrive? Was it when I was speaking with my mother and the Grand Maester?" she asks, imagining that he probably arrived about an hour ago and must have entered through a side gate on horseback. Mikasa thinks he's likely still in travel clothes and is resting somewhere, probably in the gardens.

Erwin’s slight smile widens at her queries. “He arrived earlier this morning, just before daybreak.”

Mikasa’s glee is briefly dampened by great confusion, and she is unsure if the Lord Commander is joking or not.

“Ser Erwin… are you joking?” she asks, scrutinizing the knight’s slight smile.

“I am not, Princess.”

Mikasa’s brows rise, her confusion increasing. A moment later, her eyes narrow.

“If that is the case,” the Princess begins tentatively, a tinge of suspicion and mild annoyance in her voice, “then why did you not inform me sooner? And why has he made his presence known only now? Is my husband up to something?”

The blonde knight’s expression turns bashful and apologetic at her interrogation.

“I apologize for not telling you sooner, Princess,” Erwin says sincerely, looking a bit wary at the irritated gleam in the Princess’s eyes. “But the Prince-consort arrived very early before you or Their Graces awoke. And he instructed everyone – all the servants and all the knights, not to announce his presence just yet. He had some servants prepare a spare bedchamber for him since he did not want to wake you so early. He said he wanted to finish the written reports on the recently concluded military campaign against the Brotherhood before greeting you and Their Graces. In his own words, he ‘did not want a shit ton of unfinished paperwork hanging over his head’ when he reunites with you.”

Mikasa’s eyes remain narrowed for a second longer before she suddenly laughs.

“That definitely sounds like my husband,” she quips, lips twitching. Her irritation instantly vanishes as she now understands the secrecy surrounding his arrival. Levi has always been meticulous and never does anything half-assed. He always makes sure to finish one task before moving on to the next.

"So, now that he's made his presence known, this means that he's already done with his reports, correct? Where is he right now?"

---

A lone man sits at the very front of the room, where the Iron Throne sits on a raised dais.

Levi taps a finger on one of the smooth metal blades of the throne's armrest, carefully minding the placement of his arm to avoid slicing himself on any jutting spikes.

Once he's satisfied that he won't accidentally cut himself, his eyes wander around the throne room. Sunlight enters in beams through the arched windows on either side of the hall, casting a bright strip of light in the middle of the room.

At this time of day, the throne room would be filled with chatter amongst courtiers. But the Queen had decided not to hold court today due to prior engagements. Hence, the large hall is empty and its farthest corners, including the front where he sits, are dim since the candelabras and braziers are unlit.

One of the grand double doors of the throne room opens, and Levi shifts his eyes forward. In the doorway, he sees two figures.

From her spot at the entrance, Mikasa makes an amused sound when she sees him sitting idly on the Iron Throne. The metal braziers on either side of the throne are unlit, allowing dark shadows to fall upon it. Even so, the gleam in his steel-blue eyes is still clearly visible.

“You were right, Ser Erwin,” Mikasa comments while keeping her eyes on the man on the throne. “No one would’ve expected him to be here.”

“The Prince-consort did not want to be found by anyone except you, Princess,” Erwin replies. “Hence, he chose the throne room.”

Quickly shifting his gaze between the Princess and Prince-consort, the knight sees that the two have locked their eyes on each other. Erwin quietly muses that it is somewhat incredible, considering the distance between the doorway and the throne.

“Thank you for escorting me here, Ser Erwin. That will be all,” Mikasa says, entering the doorway.

“Very well, Princess,” the knight says, excusing himself and moving to close the door.

Once the door is completely shut, the pair are left alone together. For a long moment, they just simply stare at each from their respective places. The longer they hold each other’s gazes, the more the air around them intensifies.

“So, the valiant hero has returned,” Mikasa says in a coquettish voice, breaking the quiet. “And apparently, he has claimed the throne for himself,” she adds teasingly.

“I’m not claiming it. I’m just borrowing it,” Levi says airily. “I wanted to wait someplace quiet while you and your mother had your meeting.”

Mikasa raises a brow. “And you couldn’t wait anywhere else other than the throne room?” she asks, stepping forward.

Even though she has longed to see him for months, Mikasa saunters toward him slowly. She thinks that if she waited for hours before being made aware of his arrival, then her husband could wait for a few more moments before he could hold her.

“The throne room is quiet when court is not being held,” Levi reasons. “It’s also spacious. Quite a good place to rest after traveling and pouring over papers.”

Mikasa laughs lightly. “Fair enough, I suppose.”

Levi watches his wife languidly walk toward the throne. She moves gracefully, shoulders poised and head held high. The light streaming in from the throne room’s arched windows shines on her, casting her in a brilliant glow and making her fair skin even fairer.

Levi thinks she looks just as glorious as she did on their wedding day.

He and his wife hold each other’s gazes as she continues moving forward. In the quiet of the room, her footsteps tap audibly against the stone flooring.

“For your service to the Crown, you are definitely entitled to rest in a quiet place,” Mikasa states in concession. “Although, there are many in court who would say that what you’re doing right now is treason,” she playfully warns.

Levi scoffs lightly.

“Tch. I’m just sitting. There’s nothing treasonous about it,” he drawls, crossing one leg over the other to support his point. "Treason is the Brotherhood's business. Rather, it was their business before my military host and I crushed them for good.”

Mikasa makes an amused sound at the comment. Even so, an earnest smile forms on her lips amidst the playfulness on her features.

“Yes, we received news of the success of your military campaign a fortnight ago. My mother and the Small Council were overjoyed. And the Realm owes you and your soldiers a great debt,” she says, her tone becoming sincere with the last statement.

“The campaign was only a success because of the collective efforts of all, that is true,” Levi says, accepting the compliment modestly. “Although…”

He props his chin on one hand as he watches his wife intently, "I still would have preferred it if the Council allowed you to come with me," he says quietly. "The battle against those bastards would've ended much more quickly if you had been there. You're not the 'Woman Worth a Hundred Warriors' for nothing."

Mikasa laughs lightly, her amusement returning.

She halts when she's halfway to the raised dais where the throne sits. The only thing separating them now are several yards of stone flooring and the steps leading to the throne.

“Perhaps, but you still managed without me,” she counters. She folds her hands behind her back as she smirks at him. “Besides, the ‘Realm’s Strongest Warrior’ was more than enough to lead the soldiers to victory.”

Levi smirks back at her.

“Well, the ‘Realm’s Strongest’”, he counters, uncrossing his leg and standing up, “wanted his wife with him.”

At that, Levi begins walking down the steps of the dais to make his way to her. When he steps out from the shadows and into the sunlight, Mikasa fully beholds his presence. Even when he's not anticipating battle, her husband always keeps his longsword at his right hip. The sword is attached to a leather belt tied around his waist and over his silver-clasped, dark knee-length overcoat. On the right breast of his coat is a sigil woven with white threading depicting an image of a shield with the letter 'A' on the left side and a direwolf head on the right – the sigil of House Ackerman of the North.

As Mikasa’s eyes flit to the sigil, she briefly recalls her childhood septa teaching her that her husband’s House and her father’s House have not been connected by blood for centuries.

She shifts her eyes back to his when he gets off the last step of the raised dais.

“You are one of the strongest fighters in the entire Realm,” Levi states as he walks toward her. “And you and I have always been stronger together than apart.”

“But those aren’t the only reasons why I wanted you with me,” he says, voice becoming softer as he gets closer to her. When he finally reaches her, he raises a hand to hold her cheek.

“I missed you, Mikasa,” Levi tells her before moving forward to kiss her. Mikasa leans into his touch as she gladly meets him halfway.

All teasing and playfulness dissolve when their lips meet, and their arms wrap tightly around each other as they kiss heatedly. For a long moment, no words or banter are exchanged, with the pair expressing how much they longed for each other through fervent brushes of lips and frantic swipes of their tongues.

After a long while, Levi trails his lips from Mikasa’s mouth down to her chin and eventually down to her neck. He nuzzles her neck as he plants hot kisses on the column of her throat and nibbles the soft skin there.

Mikasa giggles as she closes her eyes, enjoying the touches she’s missed so much. She lets him linger on her neck as she lightly strokes the back of his head.

But when Levi moves down and starts mouthing at her exposed collarbone, that is when she gently takes hold of his chin.

“Behave yourself, husband,” Mikasa chides lightly, face flushed red. With her hand on his chin, she nudges his face back to hers. “As much I’m enjoying this, I’d rather not desecrate the throne room,” she says, moving her hand to the side of his face.

"Pity," Levi murmurs, shifting his head to press a kiss on her palm. "I would've fucked you all over this room if you'd let me."

Mikasa laughs heartily. She’s missed everything about him, including his dirty mouth.

“I missed you too, Levi,” she says quietly, voice brimming with affection. She braces her hands on his shoulders as she presses her forehead against his. “I am so glad you’ve finally returned to me after such a long time.”

Levi sees the unmistakable fondness in her stormy gray eyes and feels himself soften inside. He’s yearned for her warmth after months of being apart.

“I’m sorry I took long,” he whispers, pulling her closer to him. “Forrester and his merry band of traitors made us chase them all over the Crownlands for months. The bastards were good at hiding and evading.”

A frown mars Mikasa’s face at the mention of the traitorous leader of the Kingswood Brotherhood. “So, I’ve heard.”

The Princess remembers the Small Council meetings during the months which preceded the Brotherhood's defeat. The progress of the military campaign against the traitorous outlaws was always the first order of business. And everyone on the council would always feel disappointed whenever they received reports that the Brotherhood somehow disappeared after yet another raid on a village.

At the time, Mikasa wondered how a skilled tactician and a once-promising knight such as Floch Forrester could stoop so low as to use his intelligence for sinister purposes.

As she recalls her past ruminations on the rogue knight, her eyes fall on the hilt of Levi’s sword.

“Did you use this very sword to execute Floch Forrester?” she asks, reaching down to grip the handle.

Levi follows the direction of her gaze. “I did.”

Mikasa hums contemplatively. She wonders how Forrester had acted when he was faced with the sword.

“What were his last words?” she asks, knowing that her husband always gave criminals an opportunity to speak during their sentencings.

Levi observes the pensive gaze in her eyes as she continues to look at his sword.

"Just a load of hateful and nonsensical shit about how your mother is going to ruin the realm just because she's a woman," he answers honestly, knowing that his wife can handle the truth. "He even had the audacity to say that it was your mother's fault that he and his Brotherhood attacked those villages."

The look in Mikasa's eyes hardens, and the curves of her mouth draw downward.

“So, he expressed no regret or remorse…” she says, her voice lowering with disgust. “Hearing that makes me wish that I executed him myself.”

Mikasa grasps the sword handle more tightly, and she envisages herself standing in front of Floch Forrester. For a moment, she can hear him right now, spewing scornful accusations toward her mother and casting all the blame for his own actions onto the faultless monarch. She also hears him cursing her personally, hatefully proclaiming that if the Realm survives under her mother’s reign, then it will fall when she becomes Queen.

Mikasa's knuckles turn white as she grips the handle with even more force. She imagines quickly unsheathing it and swiftly silencing Forrester's maddened ramblings with a single slice through his neck.

Levi sees the righteous fury in Mikasa's eyes; her revulsion and contempt for the Forrester bastard brew the storm in her dark-gray orbs.

"Yet another reason why you should have been allowed to partake in the campaign," Levi says, covering her hand on his sword with one of his own. "It would've been poetic, the woman-hating rogue being executed by the woman-warrior who will be Queen one day."

Levi glides his fingers over the back of his wife’s hand, stroking her skin gently.

"Bards all over would have written songs about it. About how the Warrior Princess slew the half-witted fool who thought that a cock is required to rule. They'd sing about her fierceness… and beauty," he says, using his other hand to caress her cheek.

The fury on Mikasa's features gradually relents at Levi's words, and she eventually loosens her grip on the sword handle.

“It truly would have been a great song,” she comments, smiling wryly as she shifts her eyes back to her husband. “Alas, it was not meant to be by the counsel of the Council.”

Mikasa actually wanted to join the campaign to personally fight the detractors who opposed her mother. However, her parents and the Small Council advised against it, saying that she shouldn't place herself in unnecessary danger since she is the only Heir to the throne. They also further argued that Levi and the host of soldiers he selected for the campaign are more than sufficient to deal with the outlaws. Therefore, her participation is not necessary.

“It was still a wasted opportunity,” Levi states. “You are oh so magnificent in battle. I still remember the time you single-handedly took down seven hill tribesmen while we went hunting in the forests near Runestone. You looked as if you were dancing,” he says, a tinge of nostalgia in his voice. “I’ve heard tales about your feats as the regional commander of the Vale, but seeing you in combat for the first time was truly an experience.”

Mikasa lets out a short laugh.

"Ah, yes. It was a fortnight after you and your uncle came to the Eyrie to arrange our betrothal," she says, smiling fondly. "We traveled to Runestone for a hunting trip with Lord Royce and some other nobles. When we separated from the main group, we encountered the hill tribesmen. I took on seven of them while you took on the other nine. You were quite a sight yourself. I'd never seen anyone swing a sword as quickly as you."

Levi smirks at the memory. He recalls the band of hill tribesmen charging at him and his then-betrothed with their crude weapons. The poor bastards actually thought that they could win.

“That was the first time we fought together,” he states, coaxing her hand to let go of his sword handle. When she does, he entangles their fingers together. “And we continued fighting together long after we married and took residence in Winterfell. So, I found it rather odd marching off to battle without you.”

Mikasa smiles a bit ruefully at that. Before her mother's ascension as Queen, she and Levi had resided in Winterfell. After their wedding, she ceded command over the Vale's regional forces to another warrior so she could move to the North with her husband. While there, they acted as commanders of the North's regional forces and were active in patrolling the lands to maintain the peace there. But when her mother became the new ruler of the Realm, the pair moved to King's Landing, where Levi was made Lord Commander of the Grand Army and Mikasa started taking a more active role in politics as the new Heir.

"I agree that I am definitely useful on the battlefield," she says. "But the Council and my parents were right. I need to be more careful now that I am Heir. And being Heir also means spending more time in council meetings than battles."

Levi hums in acknowledgment.

“I know, and I don’t disagree,” he says, bringing her hand up to his lips. “It’s just that fighting isn’t the same without you.”

He kisses her knuckles, and Mikasa smiles as her cheeks turn red.

“I share your sentiments, husband,” she tells him, caressing one side of his face. “But I think we’ve spent enough time talking about Forrester and politics. I’d rather enjoy having you back without anything unpleasant dampening the joyous occasion.”

Levi huffs amusedly.

“Fair enough,” he says, putting the discussion to a close. “So, I heard that Their Graces have departed for the Great Sept. I’ll make myself known to them when they return. Shall I escort you to your next activity?”

Mikasa shakes her head with a smile.

“I actually don’t have any official activities today,” she explains. “Today’s meeting with the Grand Maester was unplanned.”

An idea then crosses her mind, and her smile turns playful as she tilts her head. "This means I'm free to do as I please today."

The energy in the air changes with the shift in the discussion, and Levi watches as his wife's hands trail down to his chest. His interest is immediately piqued when she subtly starts sliding her palms upward and downward.

“Very well,” Levi says lowly, wrapping his arms around her waist. “So, what does my Princess wish to do today?”

His fingers trace random shapes on the small of her back, and Mikasa moves even closer to him.

“Your Princess…” Mikasa’s voice drops to a whisper, “wishes to properly reunite with her Prince-consort.”

---

Mikasa’s hair fans out behind her as Levi unties her ponytail. His calloused fingers then dance on her back as he deftly unfastens the strings of her dress.

In seconds, the back of her dress opens, and Mikasa sighs when the warm summer air hits her bare skin.

“I’ve nearly forgotten just how fast you can undo my dress strings,” she comments with a breathless laugh.

The Prince and Princess are now in the privacy of their bedchambers. After their conversation in the throne room, the pair reencountered Ser Erwin and instructed him that they were not to be disturbed for the rest of the day. Afterward, the couple strode down the corridors arm-in-arm, their pace hastened.

"I was tempted to rip your dress off you altogether," Levi whispers in her ear, sending shivers down her spine. "But then I recalled you telling me that I've ruined enough of your dresses and that I should spare the royal seamstresses any additional labor."

Levi kisses the nape of her neck as he slowly slides the dress off her shoulders and down her arms. The satin fabric smoothly glides across her skin, and Mikasa leans back against her husband as he continues undressing her.

Levi then grips her hips and yanks the bottom half of the dress down. The dress, still whole, pools down her ankles, leaving her completely bare before him. His calloused hands slide up and down her sides before moving to her toned stomach. He trails his palms over the firm muscles there, and Mikasa moans lightly.

“I see that you’ve kept up with your training, my dear,” he whispers, grazing the firm divots of her abdominals. His cock twitches when he feels her muscles flex under his touch. “Your body feels as glorious as I remember.”

“Of course,” Mikasa giggles, her face turning red. “I may be the Heir, but I am still a warrior. And one never knows when they’ll face combat.”

Levi feels his chest purr with pride. Hearing his wife speak with such certainty and confidence never fails to rouse him.

“Well said,” he chuckles lowly.

He drags his lips across her shoulders as his hands rise to her chest, cupping her ample bosom. He kneads her breasts and tweaks her teats, causing Mikasa to whimper and press further back into him.

“Oh, Levi,” she mewls.

Levi says nothing, preferring to let his actions speak for him. With one hand still massaging her breasts, his other one slides down the valley between the mounds, going further down until it reaches the apex between her strong thighs. His fingertips graze her outer lips, and Mikasa shivers with anticipation.

“Levi…” Mikasa whimpers, arching her back and yearning to be touched.

Levi briefly considers teasing her but decides they've both been deprived of each other for far too long. So, he delves into her warm core, sliding one finger inside and pressing his thumb against her clit. He pumps the single digit inside her while his thumb rubs her sensitized pearl in circles.

"Ah!" Mikasa jolts in his arms at the double stimulation. Her eyes close, and her mouth hangs open in a wordlessly cry as he stirs and builds up her pleasure.

Levi buries his face in the crook of her neck, feeling the vibrations from her throat as she vocalizes her pleasure through shameless moans and groans. He curls and twists his fingers, causing her sheath to tighten and drench his digits.

“Fuck. You’re even wetter than the Riverlands.”

Mikasa's face turns even redder at his filthy remark. Levi pulls her even closer to him, and she feels his stiffness pressing against her backside. Opening her eyes, she notices their reflections in the mirror on the other side of the room. She sees herself naked, arching and writhing against her husband, who still remains clothed and whose breeches have begun housing a bulge.

Oh, that won’t do.

She swiftly grabs his hands and pushes them away. Before Levi can ask if something is wrong, Mikasa quickly turns around and silences any potential question with a searing kiss.

“It’s rather unjust that I’m the only one naked, husband,” she whispers against his lips before her hands move to the leather belt around his coat.

She unties the belt quickly and casts it to the ground. There's an audible clang as the attached sword scatters on the floor, but neither pay it any mind. Mikasa then makes quick work of the clasps, deftly undoing them in seconds. Once it's completely open, she shrugs it off his shoulders. She then grabs the bottom of his tunic and pulls it upwards. They break their kiss long enough to pull it over Levi's head.

When the tunic falls to the ground, their lips reconnect, and Levi wraps his arms around Mikasa's waist while her hands roam over his front, palming his firm abdominals. She then gently trails her hands to his broad chest, rubbing the hard muscles.

“Your journeys have made you even stronger than I remember,” she purrs, ducking her head to nip at his jawline.

Her excitement builds as she drags her palms over and across his upper torso, feeling the toned definition of his pectorals and the contours of his deltoids. She marvels at just how well-built her husband is.

Levi groans appreciatively. He’s missed her heated but delicate touches, and he closes his eyes to savor their sensations. Her hands move to his back, her palms tantalizingly sliding down the muscles there before gliding around his waist and landing on the front of his crotch.

Levi’s cock twitches again when Mikasa’s fingers tug at the drawstrings. Soon, the waistline of his breeches loosens, and his wife yanks them down his legs. Levi then steps out of them easily, having already taken off his boots earlier. When his fully erect cock springs out, Mikasa grasps it and thumbs his tip, causing him to groan loudly.

“Fuck… Mikasa," he hisses, his hips instinctively jutting forward when she starts pumping him.

Still nibbling at his jawline, Mikasa tightens her grip on him as she continues pumping, earning her an even louder ‘fuck’ from her husband.

She then trails her lips from his jaw to his ear. “Would you like me to kneel, my Prince?” she asks, tone teasing and velvety.

Levi breathes in deeply as his cock gets even harder at the offer. Yet, as tempting as it is, he has something else in mind.

“That’s a generous offer, but…” he says, voice low and raspy as he grabs the wrist of her hand pumping him, “I’d rather have you in bed.”

Mikasa shivers delightedly. “Take me to bed, then.”

Levi presses their lips together and moves his hands to her ass, cupping them firmly and crushing her to him. Their sexes brush together, and they both groan before Mikasa slides her shoes off her feet and coils her powerful legs around his waist. Levi then quickly strides to the grand four-poster bed at the far end of the room.

Once they’re at the foot of the bed, Levi bends down and places Mikasa on the mattress. With their lips still pressed together, Mikasa uncoils her legs from around his waist before she starts sliding herself across the bed. Levi crawls over her as she does so, moving along with her and planting kisses on her neck.

When they reach the top end of the bed, Mikasa places her head on one of the many pillows and lies down properly. She grabs Levi's head to pull him to her for a proper kiss, to which he gladly obliges. Levi then uses a knee to gently nudge her thighs apart, and Mikasa readily spreads them apart for him.

Levi settles himself in between her legs and positions himself before her entrance. His spine tingles with anticipation when he feels the warmth emanating from her core.

“Are you ready for me?” Levi whispers against her lips, breaking their kiss.

His hot breath fans her face, and Mikasa feels her heart race when their eyes meet.

“Yes,” she answers, wrapping her legs around his waist again.

At her go-ahead, Levi presses into her. They hold each other’s gazes as their connection deepens, not once looking away.

When he's fully sheathed inside her, Mikasa releases an exhilarated gasp while Levi hisses in pleasure. The time and distance apart created an ache inside both of them, and reconnecting instantly soothed it.

They meet again for another heated kiss, and Levi reaches for one of her hands and pins it beside her head, entangling their fingers together. Mikasa hums into his mouth and slides her free hand to the back of his neck, bringing them even closer.

After brushing their lips and tongues together for a few moments, Levi starts to rock against her, still fully sheathed inside her. Their kiss breaks when Mikasa whimpers and gasps as she starts moving against him from beneath.

They match each other’s tempo, eventually finding a rhythm that satisfies them both. Levi groans when he feels his cock shift and brush against her inner walls with every synchronized roll of their hips.

“Feels good to be reunited at last,” Levi purrs, smirking.

Mikasa laughs breathily in between her gasps of pleasure.

“Welcome home, my love,” she smirks back at him.

They continue rocking together, rolling and grinding their hips against each other. Soon, their current pace isn’t enough anymore, and the bed starts to creak when their movements become more frantic.

"Mikasa…" Levi grunts out, feeling sparks in his groin. "You have no idea how much I missed this…."

With one last roll of his hips, Levi draws back before plunging inside his wife. He growls at the delicious friction and buries his face in the crook of her neck before pulling back and thrusting in again.

Mikasa moans loudly at the sensation of her husband thrusting in and out of her, and she squeezes their joined hands as he sets a gratifying pace.

“Ooohhh…” Mikasa’s eyes close shut as more pleasant shockwaves rock her core. When she matches her hips to his new rhythm, Levi groans loudly against her neck.

Beads of sweat start forming on their backs, and their gasps, moans, and the sound of their skins slapping fill the large, ornate bedchamber. With each thrust, they draw out more and more pleasure from each other.

But soon, they start craving for even more.

“More… faster!” Mikasa gasps out, shifting her head and whispering hotly into his ear, “Show me how much you missed me, Levi.”

Her vocalized need for more unleashes a fresh surge of lust in Levi. Gladly obliging, he increases the pace of his thrusts. His hips slam against hers, and the bed starts rocking against the wall behind it.

Mikasa’s moans increase in volume, and she clutches their joined hands more tightly.

“Oh, Levi! Ah!” she whimpers. “Levi! Oh! My Levi!”

Still thrusting, Levi lifts his head from the crook of her neck. Peering down at this wife, he sees her cheeks flushed with heat and her dainty mouth opened in pleasure as she chants his name.

Mikasa peers up at him, and her cheeks become more heated when she sees the nearly feral look in his eyes.

“Can you… feel… how much… I… missed you… now, Mikasa?” Levi asks, his words staggering in between his rapid thrusts.

“Yes…” Mikasa answers, throwing her head back as her pleasure continues to mount. “Yes… yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!”

Beyond the silk curtains covering the room's large windows, the afternoon sun streams pleasantly on the castle grounds, servants and knights go about their daily tasks, and small birds chirp amongst the treetops near the gardens. Yet, the Prince and Princess pay no mind to the world beyond, being too lost in each other.

---

The setting sun colors the grounds yellow and orange as the guards stationed at the Red Keep’s gates man the watch towers and patrol the surrounding walls.

One guard standing watch scans the horizon for any incoming horses and carriages. For a while, he sees nothing but the dirt path and the grassy fields adjacent to it. A moment later, he sees men in golden cloaks followed by an ornate carriage riding towards them.

“Royal carriage in the distance!” the guard shouts. “Their Graces are arriving!”

“Open the gates!” another guard commands.

The iron-wrought gates of the Red Keep creak noisily as the guards on duty crank the levers to raise them open. Within the courtyard, guards, knights, and servants form orderly lines in preparation to greet the Queen and King.

Just as the gates are raised completely, the sound of horses clopping and neighing becomes more audible as a retinue of golden cloaks on horseback ride through. Following them are four Queensguards, their white cloaks billowing in the wind as they guide their horses to slow down upon entering the castle grounds.

The host of knights and soldiers then guide their steeds to line up at either side of the pathway as the royal carriage enters, followed by yet another retinue of golden cloaks. When the last horseman enters, the iron gates creak again as they are lowered to a close.

The knights and soldiers lower themselves from their horses when the carriage comes to a halt. The carriage driver then steps down to open the carriage door.

Still holding the door open, the driver bows deferentially when King Mikhail steps out first. Once the King alights, he offers his arm to Queen Keiko.

“Thank you, dear,” Keiko smiles as she takes her husband’s arm.

Once the Queen steps out of the carriage, she loops her arms through the King's and faces forward. As soon as she does, everyone present bends their knee in greeting.

“Everyone rise,” the Queen announces with a small smile.

At her order, all persons rise to their feet but keep their heads bowed as the royal pair walk arm-in-arm toward the steps leading to the Red Keep’s main entrance.

At the very foot of the steps are Lord Commander Ser Erwin Smith and the other two Queensguards who were instructed to remain at the castle. The three knights bow at the waist when the royals reach them.

“Welcome back, Your Graces,” Ser Erwin greets as he and his Queensguard brothers straighten themselves.

"Thank you, Ser Erwin," Keiko replies with a smile. She then turns to the group of knights, guards, and servants still standing behind them. "Thank you, everyone. You are now dismissed so that you may tend to your tasks and duties."

The crowd bows and curtsies in response before dispersing. The servants make their way to the servants’ entrances, the guards return to their posts, the gold cloaks get on their horses before riding to their barracks, and the four other Queensguards make their way to the King and Queen and flank their sides.

“So, I trust that everything was well during our absence?” the Queen asks, turning back to the Lord Commander.

“Yes, Your Grace,” Erwin replies with a nod.

“Good,” Keiko states with a smile. “Now, let’s go inside, shall we?”

Erwin and the other two Queensguards with him instantly move to the sides to make way for the Queen and King. Mikhail offers his arm again, and after Keiko takes it, they walk up the stairs. The Queensguard retinue follows after them, with Erwin at the very front.

"Has anyone notified the Princess of our arrival?" Keiko asks as they walk through the grand doors of the main entrance. "Where is she?"

“The Princess is with the Prince-consort, Your Grace,” Erwin replies from his place behind them.

The King and Queen pause in their tracks at the news, and the Queensguard likewise halts. The royal pair turn to the knights with visibly surprised looks.

“Levi has already returned?” King Mikhail asks, eyes widened in astonishment. “When did he arrive?”

“Just today, Your Grace,” Erwin answers. “The Prince-consort met with the Princess not long after Your Graces departed for the Great Sept.”

The Lord Commander elects not to tell the King and Queen the entire story of the Prince’s arrival, thinking that the Prince and Princess will likely tell them the tale sooner or later.

"Well, this is good news!" the King exclaims. "Although I wish he had sent a raven informing us about his expected arrival date."

"That would have been preferable, but what matters is that our son-by-law has come home safely," the Queen states with a smile. "We must prepare a grand dinner in his honor! This is the least we can do for him until we arrange an official ceremony to celebrate him and the soldiers who were part of the campaign!

“Ser Gelgar,” Keiko turns to one of the Queensguards. “Kindly instruct the head chef to prepare his finest dishes! We want to make sure that the Prince-consort is well-fed.”

Ser Gelgar stands at attention, pressing his arms to his sides. “At once, Your Grace,” he says before bowing and departing for the kitchens.

“Ser Erwin,” the Queen turns back to the Lord Commander. “Kindly escort the Princess and the Prince to my private study. The King and I would like to speak with them.”

Erwin hesitates for a moment, not replying immediately.

The King notices and raises a brow. “What is the matter, Ser Erwin?”

The blonde knight clears his throat before responding. “I apologize, Your Graces. But the Prince and Princess have… retired to their bedchambers. They also gave specific instructions not to be disturbed until supper time.”

The hidden meaning behind the Lord Commander’s words is clear to all present.

Hilarity flits across the faces of the Queensguards, but they all school their faces to look neutral, not wanting to cause offense. Meanwhile, the King and Queen exchange a visibly knowing and amused look.

“Well, I suppose they were eager to see each other after months apart,” Mikhail quips, lips twitching. “Perhaps it would be best not to interrupt their reunion.”

“Quite right,” Keiko remarks, slightly smiling. “In addition, this reunion might lead to continuing the family line. So, let’s let them be.”

---

End Note:

So, there you have it! I know that it's pretty long, but that's the direction my writing went. Haha.

Some notes:

1. Yeah, I know that Floch is a woman-hater here. Hahaha. I was inspired to make him the villain because he was one of the biggest enemies to the 104th gang in the final leg of the AOT storyline. And as for him being a woman-hater, I took inspiration from HOTD, where the general populace preferred Kings over Queens.

2. The situation in this fanfic is the opposite of the situation in HOTD. Haha. In this fic, the Queen is generally accepted even though there are a number of people who do not want a woman for a monarch.

3. For all those who are following my other story 'Soldiers by Choice', I'm still working on future content. I will update as soon as possible!

Thanks for taking the time to read this fic! This is actually my first-ever AU where the characters from one story/series live lives in the universe and setting of a different story/series. I hope that the AOT characters are still recognizable in this GOT-verse fic. Hehehe.

What do you guys think? Let me know your thoughts! Comments, reviews, and critiques are most welcome and would be very much appreciated!

#hotd inspired

Trending Tags

Recently Viewed Tags

#hotd inspired