#more plotting

“Queen Daenerys” she offered as a greeting.

“Queen Sansa” it sounded almost like venom on her tongue, but Sansa did not let it bother her, Daenerys gestured with a hand “please, take a seat” they both did, at the same exact time, like Sansa had calculated.

Once both were sat Daenerys rested her elbows on the table between them and clasped her hands together, leaning her body toward her, and studying her.

“So this is Sansa Stark” she commented “the girl who has claimed three of the Seven kingdoms of Westeros which belong to me” she said “what do you have to say for yourself?”

Sansa tilted her chin up “You took three of the Free Cities which belonged to themselves— she replied curtly — and apparently conquered the entire Dothraki nation which belonged to themselves. What do you say for yourself?”

[...]

Daenerys cocked her head to the side, her tone heated albeit calm, scorching “So, what do you suggest?”

“I don’t know” Sansa replied “with all the due respect, Your Grace, I don’t know you. I trusted your advisors enough to send to you my prince of the bond, I've put my faith in them and in a stranger — she said — I’ve seen firsthand how much damage Cersei Lannister can inflict to her enemies making them trap themselves with their own temper. Heed their counsel as I heeded that of my own when I sent Jon to you in hope for an alliance.”

[...]

Daenerys leaned back “And should I trust your counsel as well? — she asked — you admitted you are my rival. Should I trust my rival?”

“No” came her instant reply “you don’t have to trust me. Trust and respect are earned. I earned the trust and respect of the North, the Riverlands and the Vale. Of my advisors as well — she added — you can trust my goal, because as of now it aligns with yours. Bring peace and prosperity to my lands”

It would be the late hours of the night. Xyveth Heartbane found himself unable to quiet his rather active mind. He had been to motivated by the days events, so here he sat aboard his ship. He’d walk over and grab his favored whiskey, and pour himself a glass.

As he sat at his desk, the only light coming from a small candle, he’d look over his notes from the day he had scouted the noble’s house, only to continue plotting. He knew the guards would be expecting another attack on the person they were paid to protect. He was a noble, and more often than not, nobles had many people that wanted them dead, whether they be angry folks wanting revenge like the young pirate, or other nobles who hired hitman to make it look like an accident. Xyveth would pull out another piece of paper, and begin writing once more.

Things to get done

-Send out the letters to those who I’m asking for help

Upon writing his list, he remembered that there were a few folks that had skills he had thought would prove beneficial to have assist him with his goal. The young monk, Aevella Warsaint. She had proven to be a remarkable fighter, and one that Xyveth had no intentions of angering. Then, there was Tyrlira Marrowind, a hunter who the young man had known for quite some time. She had proven herself rather capable with a bow, and after seeing her in action first hand when she served aboard his crew for a short while, he knew he’d want her assistance with this particular job. Then there was a young man and woman he had heard whispers about in the past few weeks, Shaeli Dawson and Declan Hane. While they were humans and members of the Alliance, Xyveth truly had no issues with them, and what he had heard about their adventures into Uldum and the skills they each had made him think they’d be rather resourceful. And then last but not least, one of his closest friends, Melanorri Suncatcher. As he thought of the young pyromancer, his gaze lifted from the stack of letters he had pulled from his desk to the painting that rested within his quarters. A simple painting of the young pirate, save for the fact it was him completely nude. Xyveth couldn’t help but chuckle as he remembered the night she had painted it. But Mel’s skills in artistry were nothing compared to her skills in battle. She was a fiery little lass, and her skill with magics, not only setting things on fire, but also when it came to making a quick getaway, made Xyveth sure he wanted her on his team. ‘Plus...if I try doing this without her...she’ll burn me alive…’ the young man thought as he took another swig of his whiskey, and returned his attention to the papers on his desk once more.

By the time Xyveth finished plotting out points on his map for where he and his associates could make entry to the noble’s home, as well as finalizing the letters he had planned on sending out, it would be the early hours of the morning. The candle he had used as light would’ve burned itself out, his quarters now illuminated by the rising sun. He’d return his attention to the list he had started when he sat.

Things to get done

-Send the letters to those I’m asking for help

-Try not to get arrested between now and when I plan to put this into action

-Look for possible crewmates so I can get back out to sea

Xyveth would place the list on the center of his desk, only to take the handful of letters, and place each one in a bottle, only for the glass bottles to vanish from sight. With his task done, Xyveth finished off the whiskey that sat in his glass, walked over, pulled the curtains shut, and laid down in bed, hopeful to get some form of shuteye.

Oooh, don’t tempt me. Or should we tempt you? :))

Trying to get my head around the hows and whys of an older!Maurice-in-Morocco post-canon AU. Not sure what the premise would be, but I like the idea very much ... Naughty Orton-esque hammam/souk/snake-charmer adventures in Marrakesh (or Casablanca) with Alec? Working on the fish-docks in the port of Mogador/Essaouria, where Gradiva was filmed? In search of a disappeared Clive? A visit to Risley...?