keep your promise

Arthur had managed to take a few minutes to himself. The small council meeting had finished early, Arthur having watched his fellow council member agree to lunch together, or go about their own business. Arthur was indeed hungry, but was dying for fresh air more. He left the council chamber and walked far enough to leave the Red Keep through a high, sand stone archway onto the battlements. He strode along, finally stopping in front of an inlay. He leaned upon it, bracing his forearms against the cool stone and staring out in the Blackwater. The sea rolled nosily against the cliff side and a sense of calm descended upon the Hand of the King. It was only when a long shadow over came him, blocking the sun in his right eye, that he glanced to the side and offered a smile. “-it doesn’t smell so much of shit from this end of the palace.” he half joked.

“Lord Stark,” she admonished. It would have been quite the scolding if it wasn’t for the girlish giggle that followed. Jocelyn was starved for home comforts. When she caught sight of the Hand she steered her steps towards him. “It is a comfort to know there’s some of the north all these leagues south. You could have sent one of these southerners into a fainting spell, I think.”

The Lord Commander stepped out onto the balcony. The moon shone full and brought overhead and illuminated the shadows so no one could hide. He crossed over to the stone balustrade, hands coming to rest on top of it as he looked out to the gardens below. Eve vigilant even in the quiet of the night. Dark eyes sought out any who might do harm to the king - or rather, the prince to be crowned. King Aegon has died a few months ago, he hadn’t mourned the loss in the usual sense, all men died, but he still felt a sense of loyalty and sadness to the man who had risen him to to the Kingsguard and then named him Lord Commander. Maybe he was getting sentimental. As for the Prince, Ser Brandon would serve him with the same loyalty he had shown his uncle as was his oath and duty. So even now he looked for the things that went bump in the night. Among those things was the sound of the soft cadence of footsteps. Immediately he straightened his posture and turned, “Who’s there?”

Sleeping in new places had always come with a struggle for Jocelyn. The first few nights in the Keep were no different; sleep would come eventually, and she would not fight it. Instead she had slipped out of her room intending to walk off the nerves. As luck had it the moon lit up the paths along the walls enabling her to wander further than intended.