"We should just march down there and tear those southern fuckers apart!" the obnoxious voice of a lesser northern lord boasting more than he can chew.
Sirius rolls his eyes looking skyward.
"Aye, we would have done that." He says like he's speaking to a child, drawing attention to himself, "If it was as easy as you say."
Giving the boastful man a leveled look, he turns to Robb not wanting to walk on his authority, while it's so fragile.
At his nod he continues, "keep in mind that there is a major factor in this war that wasn't in King Robert's rebellion." Pausing for dramatics.
"Tywin Lannister." He states making those around shift in discomfort, even in the north his deeds are spoken of with weariness.
"I'm sure the Tully's are already dealing with small skirmishes, if not all out sacking." Sirius pities those who live in the Riverlands being that it's always a battle ground with its position. Thinking of the Riverlands brings him thoughts of his foolish good sister and her most recent actions. He can't help but think that Lily wouldn't have done something so stupid.
'For Merlin's sake!' What would Tyrion Lannister of all people gain from instigating a fued with the Starks?
He makes sure to look all the lords in the eye as he finishes, "we are in-"
He stops as the pocket mirror he always has on his person pulses as Harry calls for him.
"-in a unique situation that requires no fucking bullheadedness," he continues standing up with a wince as his legs protest
"Now, If you would excuse me. I need to take a leak." He ends off awkwardly, not bothering to look at their dubious expression, nor does he care for the amused shine in his nephew's eyes as he rushes out of the tent.
"-as my uncle stated, we…." The sound of Robb speaking makes him smile as he walks away, the young man's tone stern and strong as he diffuses the zealous idiots.
Maybe he'll have to brea- prank them into submission.
Pushing those thoughts away he lets his body shift when he's out of sight.
Coming out of the bushes he shakes his furr as he stands tall, black fur gleaming against the sunlight trickling through the leaves, with a wolfish smile he springs his way into the forest away from the mass of soldiers bumbling about. His pace slows once he's far enough away to assure he's alone, reshifting into his human form groaning as his bones pop. Un-pocketing the mirror with a nervous grin Sirius feels trepidation as he unclasps the protective cover revealing the familiar shine of the reflections glow as it blinks, waiting for him to accept the call.
"Harry! My pup." He breathes watching with reverence as the mirror ripples to reveal a striking young man.
Those green eyes light up with a warmth that Sirius never knew he missed, "Padfoot! I can't tell you how glad I am to see you."
Sirius guiltlessly drowns out his godson's words in favor of relishing in his reflection on the mirror. Seeing those green eyes makes Sirius's heart soothe an ache he never knew was there lifting as he watches his pup recount his new found life.
Just for a moment the situation his own new found family is facing fades in the background as the boy tells him of his time in a castle that can apparently rival winterfell in its size.
The healthy glow to Harry is one of the first things he catches. His pups feature only slightly differently than in their former world, or whatever you want to call it. Or maybe it's the fact that his pup wasn't starved and kept in a small cupboard for his whole childhood.
Sirius still has regrets on how little he acted when it concerned his pup. He can cowardly say that he was scared to get caught and placed back in that prison.
Shaking his head pushes those thoughts away; he can't let himself succumb to past regrets when he needs to stay focused on protecting the people who need him at this moment.
"-and then Willas found us and…" he hears Harry trail off and squawks indignantly "Paddy!?"
Sirius just grins dopely, enjoying the playfulness he rarely sees blossom from his pup.
'Though it's hard to find joy when a mad man is continuously hunting your very person.' He thinks sourly, shaking his head.
Sirius forces the image of the gaunt and always ttired version of Harry and lets it be replaced by this bright and thriving one.
"That's me." Sirius quips letting his expression express how much he adores his pup despite how long it's been.
His pup was the only thing that kept him going since he was imprisoned and when Sirius died or whatever the veil did to him he vowed to live in Harry's name.
He doesn't know if he'll ever not feel guilt for telling his pup that he's nothing like his father James, and if Sirius is honest with himself.
Harry isn't his father, he's better than James could have ever been.
"So, whatcha doing?" The question brings him out of his thoughts as he lets out a huff slumping on the ground.
"Oh you know, trying to stall my family's kingdom into fighting a pointless war because some shit kid was crowned king and 'my oh so honorable' brother had to be stupid and publicly declare the treason without properly securing his position, nothing serious." He says getting a deadpan from his godson at the horrid pun.
Sirius lets his head fall back onto the bark of the tree feeling the weight of everything pile on his shoulders.
He's what, almost in his seventies mentality he's feeling the age creep up on his soul, all this constant fighting and wars have taken a toll on his body and mind.
The north is a harsh place and it's only harsher as the wars keep coming. Watching as his own sister drugs him with a sleeping tonic and spirit away with a prince she shouldn't have even been alone with. Failing to convince his brother and father not to question the king and let him travel and find his sister discreetly, only to then hear the news that the mad king killed the only father he ever respected and the brother he never knew he wished for. Lyanna's bones being wheeled into Winterfell as his brother holds the only thing that allows her to still breath in this forsaken world.
His nephew Jon, who has a parentage that isn't enviable for his birth will always be attached to the war. Though some may find beauty in their tale of true love. Sirius can only think of how his child sister was taken advantage of by a man who had all the power. Not that Sirius would ever hate his nephew for the fate he can't help but be placed upon.
If there's one thing he has experience in is dealing with children destined for greatness.
"Siri, I'm sorry I didn't come sooner." The remorseful tone of his pup makes him snap his head back up looking into the two way mirror and he shakes his head vehemently.
"No!, no, no. We're not going here Pup, you were and are still a child I would have wanted you to endanger yourself just to see me. " he tries to convey his, no pun intended, seriousness by leveling Harry with a stern gaze.
"I love you pup," he feels his own eyes water in response to Harry's startled gasp at the casual admittance.
At his pup's disbelieving face he lets out a laugh of pure love.
"Pup." He says with fondness," I swear to you I could never hate you, especially for living your life." 'If there's anyone who deserves to spend a life in one of the most fruitful kingdoms in this world, then it's Harry.' Sirius thinks with certainty.
"I know," Harry hiccups through the mirror wiping his eyes as he takes in a relieved breath.
"I love you too, paddy." His godson says giving him a watery grin, one that reminds him of the toothless gummy smile Harry first gave him when he was first introduced to his pup as his designated godfather.
"My pup!" Sirius can't help but wail dramatically clutching his mirror to his chest feeling satisfied when he hears the chime-like laugh of Harry as the boy giggles are muffled. Pulling his mirror back he feels his grin shrink at the serious expression on Harry's face
"Now," his pup says, with the tone Sirius as heard in some of the most formidable commanders he's fought with.
"My brother Willas has agreed to put his support in my corner for providing help to you, but I can't outright show that we are doing so because unlike you, we don't have the luxury of being protected by the neck, and I want to do more, but I can't risk my fam-" Sirius stops his godson with a raising of his hand.
"You don't have to do all this Pup-" he starts but is stopped by a vicious glare.
"No, I am tired of this." His god son interrupts.
"I am so tired of seeing innocent people suffer for vile people's pleasure and I will be damned if I allow your family, who is my kin by extension, so no I will not, not do nothing." More quietly Harry whispers, "Especially when I have the power to do something."
"Pup, I just meant, hell's I don't know what I meant." He sighs feeling frustrated with the whole situation.
"So can I tell you what my brother and I had in mind." Harry says tersely only to relax when Sirius nods.
Neither ever notices the hidden figure of Robb as he watches with a curious eye as they interact, curious to see just who this Godson is.
While he is wary of the stranger he can't help but think of the boy for making his uncle look years younger, like he's been lifted of most if not all of his burdens and the reason to it all is in that little mirror.
Magic, a concept he still has trouble with. Though he trusts his uncle with his life, if he says that Harry is trustworthy, his family then it's Robb's duty as the heir of Winterfell to welcome those in his pack with open arms.
Though should the southern rose be shown to be poisonous…
The Black Cells.
Drip…
Drip…
Insanity is something Eddard never thought he'd be wary of, but here in the black cells with the wailing of the damned reaching his ears with a torturous ferocity. It's no wonder his mind is slowly fading.
Drip….
That along with the lack of food and water is causing his body to betray him. He can feel his feet and fingers slowly numbing as his circulation slows to his more vital organs.
Drip…
The lack of nutrition and sunlight only accelerates his malnourished state, he doesn't know how long he's been down here, his only reprieve is when Varys comes to speak to him, insisting he give his head for a lie.
Drip…
A bastard on the throne.
Drip…
He finds it morbidly ironic that Jon Snow, his bastard, the rightful heir to the throne is sentenced to the wall on his own doing, while the vile Waters sits on it.
Drip…
Was this his doing?
Drip…
God's, he wished he could have told the boy about his mother like he promised.
Drip…
Some Lord Paramount of the North he is.
Drip…
Starved and broken.
Drip…
His daughters are held hostage because he's a fool too trusting.
The lone wolf dies, while the pack survives
Drip…
Will his pack survive?
Dri-
Ned gets startled as a strange popping noise resonates eerily in the tunnel of his prison.
Looking in that direction Ned winces covering his eyes, feeling pathetic at the hiss he lets out as a bright light creeps from where the voice came from, listening in disbelief as a displeased voice meets his ear, "This place is fucking disgusting." The voice was eerily hiss-like in its angry tone.
Ned tenses as the footsteps creep closer.
He has to force himself to keep his eyes open when a soft white glow starts to creep closer; his disbelief is only further pushed when a stag made of pure light walks through the dreary cells.
Distantly he can hear those nearby let out what sounds like wails of relief, which eerily sound similar to their wails of despair.
Ned blinks as he feels his body sag as a euphoric feeling washes over his being.
"Have the gods taken me?" He mutters to himself.
Coughing and wincing as his chest rattles in protest from his speaking. The vast humidity in the cells makes it a festering ground for infections and sickness.
His throbbing leg reminds him of that.
Pulling himself off the sharp wall feeling his back scream in relief and pain as the battered-sore muscles pull and strain.
If he didn't know better he'd think Robert was manifesting before him, but the whoremonger could never look as elegant as the great glowing beast standing before him with antlers so big reaching far and wide almost touching the walls of the tunnel housing him.
It may be the insanity talking, but he's long passed a coherent thought to argue otherwise.
Before he can spiral out of control he hears a foreign word being spoken and then he knows no more.
"Easy", a hand gently pressed against his chest stopping him from raising the southern accent wrapping around Ned's ears as he becomes aware of his surroundings. A soft velvety accent that comes from the reach, the type that lulls you into a trance with the music-like quality in their tone.
Ned forces his eyes open, not wanting to be any more vulnerable than he already is, not that he could do anything in his current position.
"You are safe Lord Stark-" but before the unknown man can continue he hears the sound of his daughters yelling his name and then their weight crushing upon him.
"Father!" Arya cries.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to. I thought they were good, P-prince Joffrey was so kind a-and-" he shushes Sansa curling his arms around her and Arya, his eyes filling with heat as he just takes in their presence and the fact that he's got them in his arms.
"No," he denies not wanting his beloved daughter to ever feel that she was at fault for the heinous actions the prince and his mother are capable of, "I shouldn't have given them the benefit of the doubt, they showed many times their true colors but I let my honor blind me." He speaks more to himself than his daughter.
"And you, my little wolf," he says, running a hand through Arya's short hair, her gray eyes wobbling as he meets them.
"Look even more like Lyanna with that haircut." He teases thinking of his sister, trying to lighten the mood as he runs his fingers through her short locks.
He also finds amusement at the thought of Catelyn's reaction when she sees the choppy hairdo.
'Gods ', the thought alone…
The simple thought that he'll be able to see his wife after worrying for so long about the fate of his family.
The clearing of a throat makes him and his children turn to the young man who looks about Robb's age.
"I know this is a lot to handle," The boy starts awkwardly. His clothing is simple but Ned can see the fine tailored and expensively crafted seams. Ned only knows such details because he had sat in one lesson with Arya to make sure she did her lessons and unwittingly got entrapped in the intricacies of fabric craftsmanship.
"I take it you're the reason my family is safe for the moment?" He asks, looking at the younger man while trying to place his relation and region.
"Yeah! Father, you should have seen it. He tricked the guards into believing that we were simple servants and-!" Arya is interrupted by Sansa as she hisses that the grown-ups are talking, earning an amused look between him and the young man.
The man shifts on his feet giving his children an awkward smile, and an exaggerated bow "It's okay, It's only appropriate that I should introduce myself, Haedrian Tyrell, third son the paramount of the Reach at your service."
That explains the expensive garment and aristocratic features dripping off of the other.
Ned inclines his head in respect, both for his noble status and for the fact that he seems to have saved his family from a horrific fate, it's just what he wants in return-
"Did I hear you correctly?" he murmurs to himself, looking up in disbelief and at the boy in a new light as he searches along the boy's features like his sight alone could carve out the boy whom his brother holds so dear in his heart.
"Sirius," is all he manages to croak out his throat dry and his mind trying to comprehend that Sirius's Harry is in front of him.
The boy who has been tied to his family for so long, by the strange connection between the two. One he's not able to understand, but will support as long as the other doesn't prove to be a threat to his family.
Cue a sheepish smile as Haedrian says."Well, you see this was kind of a spur-of-the-moment situation and Sirius doesn't technically know that I stole you from their custody."
"I see," he says, feeling a headache coming along both from the trauma of current events and the swaying of the ship.
"Where are we heading?" He asks, peeking through his hair at the other.
Haedrian hums, looking out through the window of the cabin, "Well, at the moment we are heading towards Oldtown for a stop and allow you to recuperate because you're in no condition for us to be able to travel straight past the neck."
Harry gives him and his children, who are failing at pretending to be occupied, "Obviously you're not my prisoners and if you wish for me to take you straight to the nearest port in the north then I will, but I would prefer to stop at my grandfathers, who I know would allow you sanctuary purely because I ask."
He lets the boy squirm under his stare for a moment before smiling softly, "Relax son, the fact that Sirius vouches for you is enough. You've already proven yourself by saving my family when you had no reason to."
Haedrian shifts, "It was the right thing to do," he says shrugging.
Ned looks away, "Not many are willing to do the right thing, don't sell your short, especially in this dark world we live in."
"Is your aunt a Mad Witch like they say?" Arya asks Haedrian who looks startled for a second before laughing.
"Definitely, but I've always found the insane comforting." The boy says, an odd look passing over his face.
"Well then you'll love Arya," Sansa sniffs, threading a needle through the pale pink cloth made of silk that is just so soft in her hands. She can't believe Haedrian just gave her a whole roll of the silk to 'playwith', as he said.
"Hey!" Arya snaps her own hands occupied by a dulled spring blade, the mechanism enthralling her as she plays with it making sure to keep her hand in her lap and out of her father's sight.
"It's true, I mean why would you want to be like a smelly boy anyway," Sansa retorts.
"Better than a stupid girl who snitches on people!" Arts snaps making Sansa wilt in guilt.
"Hey, stop that now girls!" Ned says sternly, "Sansa it's not your fault, and Arya isn't crazy for having different interests than you." He scolds them both.
"But!-"
" Petronus!" The strange word breaks through their impending argument and a flock of animals made up of starlight glints into existence cascading them all in a feeling of pure bliss.
"I think we should all take a deep breath," Haedrian says unconcerned by the multiple astonished gazes pinning him down.
While Sirius never shied away from his magic, he's never really produced anything so showy as this so it's a surprise to Ned who is in the know.
"What is this," Ned breathes feeling his muscles relax and his thoughts slow into a calm and euphoric state.
"Your grace," Cersei looks up only to scowl in irritation as a no-name servant interrupts their meal and addresses her son instead of her. It's always the one with cocks who get all the glory.
She knows she is the best of her father's brood. Tyrion is begrudgingly smart for his stature, but it's why he'll never be good enough in their father's eyes. Not even mentioning he's the reason mother is dead. And despite her fondness for her sweet Jaimie, her dear twin has what it takes to make the seven kingdoms thrive.
If only these foolish men weren't so hell-bent on a cock ruling them.
"What is it?" Joffrey asks looking over his glass while her other two children dutifully eat their food, she wishes Jaimie was here as well and not galavanting around for Tyrion of all people .
The servant seems to hesitate with cowardice, "Lady Sansa isn't in her quarters," she says the cheap cap on her head shifting as she bows in fear as Joffrey shifts in attention.
"Not in her room? Is the Northern cunt in the gardens wishing herself away from our generosity?" Her son sneers into his cup with a tone of pure mockery.
"I am not s-sure, Your Grace," Cersei almost throws her cup at the sniveling cunt out of pure annoyance.
Tired of her stuttering, Cersei daps her mouth and stands up making her son scowl as she undermines him, "Spit it out or I'll have your tongue cut for being useless, where is the girl?" She says her manicured fingers lifting the servant's gaze.
"W-we don't know, Your Grace. We searched the whole castle and she seems to be missing." The piglet wails desperately trying to gain favor from a lion.
"Your Grace!" One of the Kingsguards rushes in, "Eddard Stark isn't in the black cells!"
They are missing their only leverage against the North, both of their high-security prisoners are missing and they only just found out.
"How!" She says feeling her fingers itching for a glass of wine
"When did this all happen?" Joffrey pushes past her and tries to gain control as he is the king.
"I need to write to father," she says, feeling rage bubbling up as she imagines wrapping her hands around the assailant who made this whole situation so much worse.
They had all the cards to get those savages to bow down and accept their betters.
What happened?
"That is quite the gown you're making Lady Sansa," Sansa looks up mildly startled at the voice of Haedrian Tyrell, or Harry as the generous man insisted on being called.
He is leaning at a respectable distance admiring her stitch work with a fond smile as he tells her "I'm sure you would get along great with my sister, Margaery." A pretty name.
"She loves all things girly," he says, making an exaggerated face that causes her to giggle.
She isn't Arya after all.
Sansa stalls for a moment still trying to make sense of everything and she is scared that her brothers will be angry with her for causing her father to be imprisoned in the first place.
"Thank you, My L- Harry, the fabric you gifted me is so beautiful," she says timidly, while she hasn't suffered the years of Lannister abuse like she would have had Harry not intervened, she had still been a little girl surrounded by a people wishing to see her and her family dead and weren't afraid to show it.
She is too busy fiddling with her needle to see the sympathetic look as Harry himself thinks of his time with the Dursleys, "You know, I almost caused my uncle to die during one of my first times sailing under a ship."
She looks up startled at the abrupt change of topic
He gives her a rueful grin, "I was zealous in trying to show them all that I knew what to do and could do it." He shakes his head here, "There was a giant storm that came out of nowhere during my third expedition, a couple of leagues away from the coast at the most."
With a sheepish look Harry lets out a little laugh, "Me being me, I didn't listen to the experienced sailors so they could handle the situation without worrying about their lord's grandson." Sansa fiddles with her needle as she listens.
Across the living area, a dark mahogany door leads to where her father and Arya are sleeping.
The other sections she hasn't dared to explore and instead focused on sewing to keep her occupied while her father sleeps off his ailment. She swears she had heard her father muttering something about ships not being able to hold this much space and that her uncle Sirius was going to have some explaining to do, but she had been more concerned with finishing her mother's gown.
"And I caused a good few men to perish by sacrificing their lives for me to live another day." This makes her look back at him with a small gasp.
"You are still a child, you still have room to grow and everyone makes mistakes, what you do to amend those mistakes is what makes a person who they are.
"Let go of the guilt, and make sure to never be in this position again."
"How?" She asks.
Here he gives her a grin, "Always be one step ahead."
Tywin grits his teeth as he sets the letter down. They had three valuable prisoners to use as leverage to keep the North from being a nuisance as he fortified his family's dynasty. His narcissistic daughter and buffoon grandson couldn't wait to throw their weight around the second the king passed and now everything is potentially in shambles.
"Where is Tyrion?" He asks his assistant who is standing idly.
"He's not heard of since he went to the wall, My Lord."
"My sweet Joanna, why must our children be idiots?" He murmures into his hand as he runs his palms over his face rather than thrash his office.
"What is happening with the whoremongres' ridged brother?"
"I'm not sure My Lord, the last thing that was reported was that he and his younger brother both have left to their respective dwelling." The servant says as diplomatically as possible.
"Renly has gone to play with the Roses." He says running a thumb over one of his Rose statuettes sitting on his desk.
Picking the finely chiseled stone up he muses to himself, "The boy has always been a frivolous one. Peacocking his insecurities for everyone to see."
The Tyrells are the only house that makes him pause, one doesn't go from steward of the house to the owner of the house without any cunningness. They are also closely tied to the house of Hightower who are the major reason that the Reach accepts the Tyrells as their liege.
Opposing the hightowers is opposing the faith of the Seven and the maesters themselves.
"Send me Clegane, I have a task for him."
"It's no trouble as long as she doesn't like a hole in the bottom,"
Arya flushes at the teasing wink.
"Besides, it's nice to see more girls learning how to defend themselves. My sister also has been taught enough." Harry says to her father after he scolds her for practicing her sword dances in such a small place.
Harry raises his hand when her father goes to talk, and she has to stifle a giggle at his disgruntled look, I'm not saying my sister to ever be a front-line fighter or on the battlefield itself, but I and my family have concluded that it's better for the women of our lives to be able to protect themselves than be vulnerable to any attack."
"For there are times when a man won't or can't protect them."
He gives her father a rueful smile, "I know I'd rather my sister and maybe even future daughters know how to swing a sword and stab a man in the dick rather than lie down and simply take it."
Making her choke as she is taking a drink.
"Language," Ned chides.
Harry shrugs sipping his drink, "Children will say them anyways might as well teach them when it's appropriate and when it's not rather than pretend we don't say them."
Her father gives Harry along before reaching for a bottle of wine and taking a swig straight from the bottle, "I have a feeling I'm going to be doing this a lot dealing with you."
To which the Lord hosting them simply grins cheekily.
Ned sighs, "Alright, what did you have in mind?"
"Sand Snakes."
And whatever the significance of that is makes her father's eyes widen and his skin pale, "No,"
That makes her feel even more excited, "what!?" She can't help herself.
Harry turns to her while her father groans into his hands, "My brother is hosting the prince of Dorne and his daughters, and his daughters are known as the Sand Snakes."
He gives her a savage grin, "A group of sisters who are as deadly as their namesake, and I'm sure they would be willing to take a wild wolf like you under their scale."
"What is going on," Ned groans into his hands.
"Just a little revolution," Harry says, like it's nothing.
Ned, Sansa, and Arya all marvel at the sight of the seat of Hightower as they pull into the bay. They heard stories and Ned has even been in the reach but never so far to the city of Oldtown.
The city is built in stone, with all its streets cobbled,
Harry warned them it could be wet and slippery on a damp day, so mind their feet.
They can see that most bridges are also made of stone, although some wooden bridges can be found as well. The city itself is surrounded by massive, thick, high stone walls.
As they dock Ned can just make out the labyrinth of wynds, crisscrossing alleys, narrow crookback streets, and markets.
"Thieves' Market? Why would they have a market?" Arya asks, catching a sign that reads the market's name.
Haedrian laughs, "They aren't real thieves," he reassures as the captain of his ship waves the ramp down. "The owner thought it would be funny, they are humorous people, and I like their ale." Haedrian ends with an innocent grin.
Sansa is just too enthralled with the beauty of the City, it's nothing like Kings Landing.
"It's so Beautiful," she whispers as she leans against the railings, anxious to get off the boat after so long.
When Haedrian said Oldtown smelled as flowery as a perfumed dowager he wasn't lying, even from here she could smell the various fragrances and foods. She can make out foliage that's only seen in picture books, things like melons, moonbloom, nightshade, peaches, and pomegranates.
Surrounding them are many small isles' that are located around Oldtown.
"Over here is the Quill and Tankard, an inn that as you can see stands on its own island in what is called the Honeywine.
He then points to a winding road, "The River road winds beside the Honeywine island and cuts straight through the heart of the city."
Pointing to the west as he guides them to the ramp to depart, Haedrian says, "West of the river, the Guildhalls line the river bank."
More quietly to Ned he says, "Rat pits and black brothels are located in the undercity." Letting him know not to let the kids go that way alone or ever.
"My lord!" The Starks watch as a well-dressed knight steps away from his post and comes to greet Haedrian.
"William, is it?" Haedrian asks, Ned can see him giving the eager Knight a kind smile as the young man begins to speak.
"You remember my name! I mean, it's great to have you back, The city thrives in your presence." The gallivant man says.
Haedrian grows bashful, "Please, I only do what's right."
They watch as the knight scoffs, which shows them how comfortable the man is to be unprofessional without fear of repercussions, "You act so humble My lord, but you're the only one who puts any effort in actually seeing us, and we don't forget that."
"Besides you got most of the kids off the streets, this town loves you for that alone, My lord."
"Off the streets?" Ned asks, marveling at the prospect, the puppy dog-like knight nods much to Haedrians mortification.
"Lord Haedrian has created The Lily Corp, a sanction and sanctuary dedicated and devoted to the safety, security, and nurturing of the children who are abandoned." The man prattles like the words are well practiced and spoken to with pride on the daily.
"The what?"
The knight perks up, and taps the lily crest on his chest plate that Ned only just noticed, "The Lily Corp. is a sanctioned off area of the city that is refurbished for the needs of women children, and other ailing people in need of care and temporary shelter, kids have more leeway on their lengths of stay."
"I am a surveillance officer." Making Haedrian hum in approval.
Haedrian claps the taller man on the shoulders much to the knight's delight and embarrassment, he commends the other, "You're truly noble, it's humbling to have people like you who dedicate their time to helping those in need."
"It's nothing, my lord you inspired me and many others to be the best we can be."