King's Landing, the Crownlads

Twenty-Fourth Day of the First Moon, 200 AC

Eirik had not thought to find himself here.

Yet, nonetheless, here he was, entering the capitol of the Seven Kingdoms almost a fortnight after his Liege Lord, though no doubt Artys knew why that was. Eirik had sent him word of his delay. I’ll not hold them back, not for this. Let the Falcon Lord do his work and I shall do mine.

Said work was, for the moment, complete. He had sent his man oversees with a message for the Targaryen King, though whether that would prove true or not depended on how the Valyrian planned to make his return.

So, so many variables. So much time. So much hinging on his plans.

Even now, Eirik knew, the Mountain Clans would slowly begin increasing the intensity of their raids-- not now, though, not enough to attract more ire from the Eyrie than usual, but just enough to unsettle the Vale.

Yet, even that escalation would take time. Time that would be wasted if he remained in Runestone. Time he could be using to meet with his allies, or search for his family’s long-lost sword. The last Eirik had heard from his man, he had been informed that a knight by the name of Warrick Wheaton had taken it for himself during the Dance, after the Storming of the Dragonpit.

The man himself might be dead, but his family may yet still live.

And, Old Gods help them, if they had his sword, he would have no mercy.

For years my family’s sword has been missing. One of the few things we managed to keep after the damned Seven Stars. If it’s come into the possession of an Andal family… Gods damn his ancestor.

What was William thinking, taking Lamentation with him? When did he plan on returning it?! He had gone to King’s Landing to be sworn into the Kingsguard, damn it!

Now it had fallen upon him to recover his family’s steel, if that was even possible at this point. But, Eirik would try nonetheless, if not so he could wield it, then for the hope that his children, or grandchildren, may wield it in House Royce’s stead.

And, gods be good, they will wear the Bronzerune while doing so.

So it was that Eirik and his retinue rode into King’s Landing. He had business to take care of first, of course-- he needed to find the man he had set to search for Lamentation, and he needed to present himself to the his Liege Lord as was customary.

Yet, that would not be for a few hours, and Eirik supposed he could spend some time looking around, so long as he avoided the places that smelled like horseshit.

Mayhaps I’ll run into an old acquaintance, who knows?