Kapitel 4: Whispers Beneath the Trees
The sun hung low in the sky, casting a golden hue over the grounds of Nightfall, the ancestral seat of House Blackthorne. The massive arena, built within a natural clearing encircled by the towering trees of the Emerald Isles, was bustling with anticipation. Hundreds of lords, ladies, knights, and their retinues filled the wooden stands, a sea of color and heraldry from every corner of the Seven Kingdoms. Bright banners of houses flapped in the breeze, and the air was thick with the scents of freshly trampled grass, oiled leather, and the subtle tang of the nearby lagoon. The crowd's excitement was palpable, as this was not only the first tourney held by House Blackthorne but also a rare chance to glimpse the mysterious and wild lands of the Isles.
Alaric Blackthorne, dressed in some of his garments —a polished black tunic with emerald inlays that caught the light of the rising sun—stood atop a raised wooden platform overlooking the grounds. Beside him, his wife Liana, clad in dark green silks adorned with panther motifs, surveyed the crowd with the poise and dignity befitting a lady of the Isles. Their children, Lucian and Amara, were not present but their names lingered in the thoughts of every guest, knowing this tourney was initially intended to celebrate their birth.
Alaric stepped forward, raising a gauntleted hand for silence. The murmurs and scattered conversations quickly subsided as all eyes turned to him. His presence commanded respect; his gaze, intense and unyielding, seemed to pierce through the crowd. The quiet spread like a ripple across the assembly, and even the distant hum of the jungle seemed to momentarily hush. His voice, deep and resonant, carried over the gathered lords and ladies.
"Honored guests, lords, and ladies of the Seven Kingdoms," Alaric began, his tone measured and authoritative, "I welcome you to Nightfall, to the heart of the Emerald Isles. Today, we stand not just in celebration of my children, Lucian and Amara, who will carry forth the legacy of House Blackthorne, but also in honor of the bonds that connect the great houses of Westeros."
A wave of polite applause followed his words, and Alaric paused, allowing the moment to settle before continuing. "However," he said, his voice dropping slightly, drawing the crowd in, "this tourney has taken on an even greater significance. I have recently been informed of a momentous event—a birth that has blessed the realm. The birth of the Crown Prince, Rhaegar Targaryen."
The announcement was met with a collective gasp, rippling through the stands like a sudden gust of wind. Whispers erupted among the lesser lords and their retinues, their faces reflecting a mix of surprise and confusion. Many of them had not yet heard of this news, and to hear it announced so openly by a lord so far from the political center of King's Landing was nothing short of astonishing. The King's council had kept the birth discreet, and yet, here it was, laid bare before them all.
For a moment, silence took hold as all eyes turned toward the royal box where King Aerys II Targaryen sat, his expression unreadable. His violet eyes narrowed, surveying the crowd and then locking onto Alaric. Aerys's lips curved into a slow, almost lazy grin. "Thank you, Lord Blackthorne," he finally spoke, his voice calm yet carrying an edge of veiled amusement, "for your… congratulations. House Targaryen welcomes your blessings."
A palpable tension lifted from the air, but the unease remained. The King's reaction seemed to put the whispers to rest, yet beneath the surface, the currents of suspicion and curiosity only deepened. Tywin Lannister, seated beside the King, maintained his stoic demeanor but his eyes shifted from the King to Alaric, gauging the man who had just revealed a secret not meant to be known beyond a select few.
With a casual flick of his hand, Aerys gestured for the tourney to begin. The fanfare of trumpets filled the air as the crowd erupted into cheers, their excitement reignited. The knights began to make their way onto the field, preparing for the upcoming matches. The first event, a series of sword fights, was announced, and the sound of metal clashing against metal soon filled the arena.
The tournament grounds were alive with the clash of steel, the thundering of hooves, and the roar of the crowd. Knights from across the Seven Kingdoms, their armor gleaming in the midday sun, faced off in the various contests of skill and valor. The sword fights were fierce and fast-paced, showcasing the raw talent of knights from the Westerlands, the Reach, and the Stormlands. Cheers erupted as blades met shields, and warriors fought for the honor of their houses and the chance to win the coveted title of champion.
Despite the excitement of the sword fights, it was the jousting that truly captured the crowd's attention. The banners of the competing knights fluttered in the breeze, and the tension in the air was almost tangible as they took their positions at either end of the lists. The first tilt saw Ser Barristan Selmy of the Kingsguard, a seasoned and respected knight, unseating a promising young lord from the Riverlands with a well-placed lance to the chest. The crowd roared with approval, their cheers echoing through the trees of the Emerald Isles. Each tilt that followed was met with heightened anticipation, the clashes growing more intense as the stakes became clearer.
From his seat beside King Aerys and Tywin Lannister, Alaric Blackthorne watched with a calm, calculating gaze. His dark eyes scanned the field, taking in every detail—the precision of the knights, the reactions of the crowd, and, most importantly, the demeanor of his guests. Liana, seated beside him, occasionally leaned in to exchange quiet words, their expressions revealing little to those who might be watching.
King Aerys seemed particularly taken by the spectacle, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and contempt as he watched the knights. As the tourney progressed, The King, with a bemused expression, commented, "I believe this is the first time House Blackthorne has hosted such a spectacle. Quite the display, Lord Blackthorne." The King, somewhat tilted his head, "It's a shame none of your men are participating, Lord Blackthorne," the King mused, his tone light but with an undercurrent of challenge. "Surely, they could provide some entertainment."
Alaric's head inclined faintly, his expression composed. "Indeed, Your Grace. A rare occasion for our people, but one we felt necessary to commemorate these significant times." His words were carefully chosen, as always. "Most of the warriors of the Isles are spear users; swordsmanship is not our primary art," he added smoothly, addressing the notable absence of any Isle warriors among the competitors, still his words seemed to get a grin out of Liana.
Tywin Lannister, sensing an opportunity to dig deeper, leaned forward. "A curious choice, Lord Blackthorn, for a lord with such a storied past and an isolated land. The Seven Kingdoms know little of the Isles beyond the tales of old. Perhaps you could introduce us to those who serve your House?"
Alaric's lips curved into a subtle smile. "There are many houses that serve House Blackthorne with distinction. House Mangrove of Green Grove, known for their mastery of poisons and medicines, has long been our foremost healers. House Vaal of Moor provides us with valuable goods from their jungles, such as chocolate and rubber. And, of course, House Lamprey of Sloughen, my wife's kin, who have long defended our swamp lands."
Tywin's sharp gaze lingered on Liana for a moment, absorbing this information. His mind worked swiftly, calculating the power dynamics of these unknown lands and their potential impact on Westeros. "Your wife's house must be a great support to you, Lord Blackthorne," he commented. "It is always beneficial when marriage can strengthen a domain."
Alaric nodded, his expression unreadable. "Indeed, Lord Tywin. The strength of a union sometimes may often be greater than the sum of its parts."
The conversation flowed, but beneath the polite words was an undeniable undercurrent of tension. Tywin's probing questions were not lost on Alaric, who understood that the Lannister lord was gauging the political landscape of the Emerald Isles just as keenly as he was assessing the man before him. Alaric knew that Tywin Lannister was not a man to waste words, and each inquiry was a test, a move in a larger game.
As the final joust concluded with Ser Barristan Selmy's victory, the crowd erupted in cheers. Ser Barristan, in his chivalrous manner, named Lady Olenna Tyrell the Queen of Love and Beauty, earning him a hearty cheer from the Reachmen and a smile from the Lady herself. The crowd's applause echoed through the jungle, a testament to the success of the tourney thus far.
King Aerys rose from his seat, his sudden movement drawing the attention of all present. The lords and ladies quickly followed suit, the King stood tall, his presence commanding the space around him. "Rest," he said, a casual wave of his hand signaling them to sit. "Congratulations to the winner and to all who fought valiantly today."
Then, without further ceremony, the King turned to Alaric and Tywin. "Walk with me," he ordered. The command was given in a tone that brooked no argument, and Alaric, always the picture of composure, nodded in acquiescence. Tywin followed suit, his expression carefully neutral, as they trailed behind the King.
Three Kingsguard knights flanked them, their armor clinking softly with each step. As they walked, the King's curiosity seemed to get the better of him. He glanced around, observing the structures of Nightfall with a childlike wonder, his eyes drinking in the intricate carvings and unique architecture. The King approached a man guarding the edge of the grounds, The King spoke out, leading me to the waterfall." The guard hesitated, looking behind the dazed King, his eyes met Alaric's. A subtle nod from Alaric was all it took for the guard to straighten up , "Yes your grace." Tywin noticed this exchange, his eyes narrowing slightly, as he stored the observation away.
The waterfall's roar grew louder as they neared, the mist rising in the late afternoon light, casting rainbows that danced above the water's edge. King Aerys seemed momentarily captivated by the natural beauty, but his attention quickly shifted back to Alaric.
"How did you come to hear of the birth of my son?" Aerys's voice cut through the ambient noise, abrupt and sharp, the suspicion in his tone unmistakable. His violet eyes narrowed, piercing Alaric with a gaze that seemed to demand not just an answer, but the truth beneath it.
Alaric met the King's intense scrutiny with a calm, unwavering stare. "News spreads through the cracks in the walls of power, Your Grace," he replied, his voice steady, each word chosen with care. "One simply needs to know where to listen and how to interpret what is heard, faint though the whispers may be."
The King's features, so often volatile and unpredictable, remained unreadable for a moment. His lips pressed into a thin line as he regarded Alaric, weighing the man and his words with the suspicion of a ruler always fearing betrayal. "And tell me," Aerys continued, his voice dropping lower, carrying an edge that was as sharp as any blade, "have you heard anything else through these cracks?"
A glimmer of amusement flashed briefly in Alaric's dark eyes, a fleeting spark that spoke of the secrets he carried, concealed beneath layers of diplomacy and subtlety. "Oh, nothing of great import, Your Grace," he replied, his tone light, almost casual. "Just the idle gossip of servants, the kind that flutters from one ear to the next like a breeze through the castle halls. Some say the maids have a fondness for lining their pockets with golden dragons when no one is watching, and others... well, they whisper that the Maesters have been particularly vigilant of late, especially where the Queen is concerned."
A heavy silence descended upon the group, the weight of Alaric's words hanging in the air like a storm on the horizon. Aerys's face, once impassive, tightened almost imperceptibly, a flicker of something darker crossing his expression. The suggestion of Maesters prying into royal affairs was not lost on him. Beside him, Tywin Lannister's gaze flicked to Alaric, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of interest and calculation. Alaric's information network, it seemed, ran far deeper than even Tywin had anticipated. Impressive—yes—but also dangerous. Very dangerous.
For a moment, the only sound was the rushing of the waterfall, its rhythmic roar a constant reminder of the raw, untamed nature surrounding them. Then, Tywin leaned in, his movements deliberate and calculated, and whispered something quietly into the King's ear, his words meant for Aerys alone. Whatever Tywin said, it seemed to spark a thought in the King's mind, his violet eyes widening with a sudden revelation, as if an idea had bloomed fully formed within his consciousness.
Without warning, Aerys straightened, his posture regal, yet there was something unsettling in the way his gaze bore into Alaric's. "Bow," the King commanded, his voice a strange, quiet contrast to the tension in the air, the single word carrying the weight of a decree from the Iron Throne itself.
Alaric, ever attuned to the shifting tides of power, sensed the gravity of the moment. He knelt gracefully, his head bowed, though his expression remained calm, betraying nothing of the thoughts swirling within his mind.
Aerys stepped forward, his robes brushing against the ground, his presence dominating the space. The sound of the waterfall seemed to fade as he approached, his voice rising just enough to carry over the quiet hum of the water. "I, Aerys II Targaryen, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, hereby appoint you, Alaric IV Blackthorne, as Master of Whispers."
The declaration echoed in the air, its implications rippling outward like stones cast into a still pond. Alaric, his head still bowed, concealed a faint smile, one that tugged at the corner of his lips. He had been playing the game long before this moment, but now, with this appointment, the game was truly beginning—one where the stakes were higher than ever before.
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Thank you for reading! As a new writer, I'm eager to improve and grow, so any constructive criticism is more than welcome. Also, if you notice any mistakes or have suggestions on how to enhance the story, please let me know in the comments. Your feedback is greatly appreciated!
Sorry for those who were waiting for uploads. As I mentioned before, I've just started college, and it's already a bit overwhelming. However, going forward in regard to the update schedule, I'll try my best to add a chapter every week, but I can't make any promises, so I say again, Thank you for reading.
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
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