@winterfellglory
Ascar felt slightly sick. It was one thing to have a person know of his gift but it was another to talk about it openly; even amongst his family it was very rarely spoken of. The times when magic and the Gods had been seen as wondrous things were past. Now most regarded it with suspicion or outward disdain. What is his King thought the same? What if he’d been cast out of Winterfell or even worse, imprisoned!? What if he demanded to know why Ascar hadn’t seen the fire coming?
As close as their two houses were he worried that in the end he’d only be causing problems by coming here, even if his father suggested it. He’d tried to eat but all felt felt like bark in his mouth and went down about the same. Managing only a few bites before hiding in the library for the remainder of the morning. He’d hoped (understandably) that perhaps King Edrik was too busy to see him but it was before the sun had reached its peak that a boy about his age found him to say he’d been summoned by the King.
Holding his hands in fists to keep them from shaking he smiled and thanked the boy before leaving and with a heavy heart found his way to his monarch. He knocked and remained hesitatingly in the doorway for a few more moments before entering and regarding the older man nervously.
“My King.” he said softly, “I take it you’d like the explanation you’re owed about my being here.”
