Stephen Baratheon POV
"I like this city." He said as he rode through the wide cobble paths leading to the Citadel.
"Me too." Sarella said as she moved her horse around a horse carriage. "This place is crowded and chaotic, but it is organised chaos."
"I've never been to a city before." Tyene said, her voice barely audible above the hawking of the traders selling their goods in their stalls. "Seeing so many people in one place is weird."
He nodded absently, thinking about the difference between Oldtown and Kings Landing.
Oldtown was clean. Its sewers worked properly as far as he could tell, and the citizens were fined if they threw their shit into the roads. Aside from that, the roads were larger and better planned, the city guards weren't as corrupt as the Gold Cloaks, and overall, the city did not have the stench of a week old dead rat.
This is the kind of city that Kings Landing could've been but failed to be.
There was also the fact that the people living this city didn't knew him just yet, and did not crowd him as soon as he went out to explore the city.
This kind of freedom was… nice.
Just at that moment, a large hobo jumped right in front of their column. "Wait! Stop stop stop. I need to talk with you."
The guards in his company became visibly tense, and the captain of his personal guard seemed poised to draw steel. However, the Hightower guards assigned to him appeared to be more exasperated than alarmed by the sudden appearance of the stranger, almost as if they were familiar with him.
He used Observe on the man and immediately understood why.
The individual in question was none other than Archmaester Marwyn, whom he had anticipated meeting at the Citadel. However, he had not expected to encounter the man so promptly. Or for him to be dressed like a beggar, or smell like one for that matter.
"Stay back old man." Ser Theo Wells, one of his loyal Knights warned as he rode in between him and the Archmaester and glared menacingly at Marwyn, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. "Do you even know whose path you are blocking?"
"Of course I do! I may look like a beggar but I'll have you know that I'm not one." Marwyn said with a bit of false bravado. "I wish to talk with your 'lord'. Five minutes in a nearby tavern will suffice."
"I don't think you understand-" Ser Theo begin to speak but paused when he rode forward and put a hand on his shoulder.
He stared at the Archmaester with mild amusement. "It's alright Theo. I would like to hear what this man has to say."
"But…" Ser Theo begin to say but paused at the firm look on his face. The Knight leaned in and whispered. "Are you sure about this your grace? This man looks suspicious."
"Yes." He said with a calm smile as he looked at Marwyn. "Lead the way good man."
Marwyn stared at him in contemplation for a moment before he said "Your guards can't come. Only you and one or two people that you trust. The others must stay here."
"Preposterous!" His guards immediately begin to hurl insults at the Archmaester but stopped when he gave them a look.
It took a few minutes to assure them that he'll be safe before he was finally able to move forward with Sarella and Tyene.
"Go to the Citadel and wait for me in a nearby Tavern. I'll meet you guys there." He said as he he threw a purse full of coins to his guards before he rode after Marwyn the Mage.
Marwyn led their small group through a few dark and dirty alleyways, under an old bridge and past a small slum before their finally arrived at a dark and dingy tavern that looked like it would fall apart at any moment.
"Steph… do we really have to go in there?" Tyene murmured in a tone of revulsion, her gaze fixed on the Tavern with unmistakable distaste. She then glanced at Marwyn, who signaled for them to "come in" by opening the partially decayed door of the establishment. "I don't like this place. Did you really have to follow this suspicious guy."
"Come now little sister. I thought you were more adventurous than this." Sarella teased as she got down from her own horse and started tying it to a nearby wall. He could see that Sarella was also a bit tense despite her carefree attitude, but she was also excited by this sudden 'adventure' and curious about their new hobo friend.
"I just don't like this place." Tyene complained.
"Don't worry Tyene. With Stephen by our side, nothing will happen to us." Sarella said with some assurance and Tyene was finally able to let go of some of her tenseness.
"Yeah, you're right. Let's hope that this tavern doesn't smell as bad as that old man." She said with a theatrical shudder as she got down from her horse as well.
After tying their horses to nearby posts, they entered the tavern, and were mildly surprised to find that the Tavern was clean, and well lit despite its outside appearance.
It was empty though, and Marwyn was sitting on a table nearest to the kitchen area and was talking to an old woman who looked like the exact image of a stereotypical witch from the horror movies.
Marwyn noticed their entrance and made large gestures for them to come and sit with him. "Come, come, come. There is so much I want to discuss with you. So much I need to tell you about. So much I need to warn you about. I've crossed half the world to come and meet you."
"That's good and all but you still haven't introduced yourself." Tyene pointed out as he took out a chair and helped her to a seat.
"I will, I will. In just a moment lassie." Marwyn said before he started to rummage inside his large satchel, until he took out a jagged and twisted obsedian candle. "Ah! Here it is."
Then Marwyn put the candle in the middle of the table and waited.
"That's a glass candle." Sarella said as she gazed curiously at Marwyn. "I didn't believe that you were a common beggar, or else Stephen would've never followed you. But who are good ser?"
"Not a Ser." Marwyn replied absently as he continued staring at the Glass Candle, his frown getting deeper and deeper when the Candle remained unlit.
"Are you waiting for it to start glowing?" He asked and Marwyn nodded.
"Yes! It should start glowing when it is brought in the presence of a person who has strong magic in his blood. I thought that, with you being who you are…" Marwyn paused and let out a sigh, his excitement turning into defeat as a slumped back into his chair. "I didn't think that it would not burn." Then Marwyn cast a dubious glance in his direction. "You are Prince Stephen Baratheon, aren't you? The man who defeated the Ironborn."
He smiled. "I am."
"Then why is this not burning?" Marwyn asked in frustration and he chuckled.
"Because I've not willed it to burn yet." He said and finally let out a small trickle of his Mana which he then channeled into the Glass Candle.
And immediately, the tavern had another source of light inside it as the candle lit up and burned brightly under his magical power.
Marwyn gazed at the Glass Candle with a reverent and awestruck expression, his countenance then breaking into a childlike grin.
"Yes, yes, yesyesyes! This is precisely what I have journeyed across half the world for. I was not mistaken. Thank the heavens, I was not mistaken," Marwyn muttered to himself as he ceased channeling his magical energy into the Glass Candle, causing its luminescence to abruptly cease. Nonetheless, Marwyn's elation remained undimmed.
"Is that enough for a demonstration?" He asked and Marwyn nodded enthusiastically.
"Yes, it is. Thank you for showing that to me. Till this day, I've seen many a mages, warlocks and wood witches with Glass Candles of their own. But I've never seen anyone light one without using their blood as fuel. Thank you for showing me what I thought was impossible." Marwyn said, his eyes shimmering with tears as he got up from his chair and bowed to him. "My name is Marwyn, though some call me Marwyn the Mage. I am an Archmaester in the Citadel, and I would like to come under your service Prince Stephen Baratheon. If you'll have me."
He smiled at the hobo looking guy. "I would be honoured to have you in my service Archmaester Marwyn. Though maybe we should look into getting you a bath and some proper clothes first."
—
A few hours later.
Inside Citadel.
"And this… magic drug of yours can heal any infection?" Archmaester Ebrose, thin old man with a large white beard asked him with mild skepticism. "You would have to forgive me, but this all seems a tad unbelievable, Prince Stephen."
"I know why you would think that. But believe me when I say that this is real. And if you don't believe me, then feel free to test it yourself." He said as he handed a pouch to the Archmaester of Healing Medicine. "And despite what some people my believe, no magic was used in its creation. In fact, even the most inexperienced Acolyte under your service can produce it with ease, if he follow the proper instructions without fail."
"Ingredients that you'll not tell us about." Archmaester Ebrose hrrumphed as he opened the pouch and took out some of the white drug that he pinched and sniffed. "If this… Penicillin of yours truly worked as you've described, then keeping it to yourself would be a monstrous crime."
"That is why I'm trying to create it in a large Industrial scale." He said with a smile. "Once I've succeeded, I'll be able to sell Penicillin to the entirety of Westeros. At a cheap price at that. And no Archmaester, you're not going to guilt me into giving away the monopoly on this drug."
The Archmaester shook his head. "I do not think you realise just how vital this drug would be for mankind, if it can do even half of the things you've promised. Are you sure I cannot convince you to tell me about how it is made."
"I am. Though… there is a way you can learn how to make it."
The old Archmaester's eyes narrowed. "And what way is that?"
"You can join me. Come into my service, and I'll tell you how to create Penicillin, as well as all the secrets of the human body that I've managed to discover."
The Archmaester raise an eyebrow at his words. "I'm not sure if I should be offended by your offer, or impressed by your impudence. Tell me boy, do you really think that you know more about the human body than me? Me? The Archmaester of Healing Medicine?"
"We can put it to the test if you want." He said with a cocky smile. "In fact, how about we make a bet."
"A bet?"
"Yes. We both test our knowledge on the subject of Healing, and argue on various topics. If you win, then I'll donate 10,000 Gold Dragons to your subject. But if you lose… then you leave the Citadel and come under my service. How does that sound?"
The Archmaester rubbed his beard for a moment before he gave a firm nod. "I do not believe that I'll ever be defeated by a boy who is still wet behind his ears. But if you somehow managed to defeat me, it would demonstrate that you possess greater knowledge than I do. In such an event, I would have no qualms serving under someone of such skill."
He smiled at those words. "Excellent."
—
"This Four-field crop rotation method… how did you come by it?" Archmaester Castos, the Archmaester of Agriculture asked as he read through at the half completed notes he'd made on his voyage thus far.
"What do you mean by that Archmaester Castos?" He asked curiously. "Do the peasants of reach not use Four-field crop rotation method as well?"
"We use the Three-field crop rotation in the various regions of the Reach, to a varying degree of success." Archmaester Castos said, the old man's eyes never leaving the notes he'd made. "Some of the old Archmaesters of Agriculture had theorised the method of Four-field crop rotation but no lord has shown any interest in implementing those methods into their lands. And I admit that even I was skeptical of those methods."
"Are you still skeptical of these methods?" He asked and the Archmaester shrugged.
"I'm uncertain," The Archmaester replied, eyeing the notes skeptically. "The figures you've recorded here appear almost too remarkable to be true. Moreover, we have no knowledge of the long-term impact this method would have on the soil. Will the soil remain fertile several years, or even decades, from now? Is this method suitable for all types of soil? What about the weather conditions? Additionally, how much additional labor will the peasants have to perform to care for the crops? It will necessitate a significant amount of time and effort to thoroughly investigate these factors before I can arrive at a conclusive decision."
"Well then, how about you come to Dragonstone?" He asked. "I would allow you to test the Four-field crop rotation along with the various other new agriculture methods I've implemented in my lands."
"I see what you're doing here. I know of your tricks boy, and I'll not be as easily swayed as Archmaester Ebrose." Archmaester Castos said as he rubbed his chin. "But at the same time, I cannot say that I'm not tempted."
"Of course you're tempted. You're an Archmaester of Agriculture. Your place is out there, in the farmlands. Not cooped up in a building where you can't study your craft. Come with my Archmaester Castos and I'll show you a new world of Agriculture."
The Archmaester hummed. "You've a silver tongue boy. A silver tongue, I tell you. You're dangerous."
"So… are you convinced?" He asked cheekily and the Archmaester huffed.
"Give me some time to think on it. I don't want to make such a life changing decisions on a whim."
—
"A small scale Arsenal you say." Archmaester Guyne, the Archmaester of Shipcraft asked as he stared at the plans in front of him. "And you're just… giving away its plans to me? Do you not fear that I'll sell it to someone else?"
He responded with a touch of amusement, "And to whom do you intend to sell it? The Redwynes have tried and failed numerous times to imitate the Arsenal. And the currently do not have either the resources or the manpower for another such attempt. The Hightowers lack a powerful fleet and will not invest in such an expensive project. The Lannisters have never possessed a potent naval fleet in history and have no incentive to do so now. Who else is there? The Manderlys? The Gulltown Arryns? The Velaryons? The Greyjoys? I'm afraid, Archmaester, that you may endeavor to market these plans, but you will find no takers. Not in Westeros at least."
The Archmaester hummed in his deep baritone voice. "Perhaps. But this… this is still a treasure. And I am deeply grateful that you'll share such an important thing with me, your grace. If there is something you want in return for it, then please don't hesitate to ask. I'll do my best to be of service to you."
"Well, you can leave the Citadel and come into my service. I have always need of good and educated men in my domain." He said. "Plus, I eventually plan on creating a University. A place of learning. A place where someone like you can do a lot of good."
The Archmaester chuckled at his words. "I was afraid you would say something like this. But I'm afraid I cannot join you, your grace."
"And why is that?"
The Archmaester smiled warmly at his question and stared into the distance as he started speaking. "Unlike many other Archmaesters who came to the Citadel once they were boys, I've lived in this place my entire life."
"Your entire life?"
"Indeed. I was the bastard son of an Archmaester of some influence, who decided to take me in as a baby after me mother died of childbirth. The decision lost him some of his influence but he kept me close to him nonetheless. My earliest memories are of the Citadel. I've lived my entire life in the Citadel. And now that I'm an old man, I wish to die in the Citadel."
"Well… your story is certainly unique." He said as he sat down on a nearby chair. "How about you come to Dragonstone for only a few years. Witness as the small Arsenal is built. Make notes on its construction and how it works. Then you can return to the Citadel, content."
"A tempting offer, your grace. But my mind is made up, and nothing you say or offer will change it." The Archmaester said with a warm smile. "With that said, I would like to introduce you to some of my students."
"Your students?"
"Yes. They're just as interested into learning about Ships and the Ship building process as me. They're smart and intelligent boys. A bit too mischievous for my liking but good boys nonetheless. You'll not be disappointed if you decided to hire them."
"Is that so. Then please introduce me to these students of yours."
—
Nighttime.
"I heard a rumour that you were kicked out of the Citadel earlier this evening. Is it true, your grace." Humfrey Hightower, the fourth and youngest son of Lord Leyton Hightower asked with curiosity and the rest of the table shared a chuckle. Even Asha joined along in the merriment, the traitor.
"Aye. Those old farts said that I was abusing their hospitality and kicked me out." He said with a charming smile. "Jokes on them though. By the time they figured out what I was doing, I'd already done it."
"So you did abuse the hospitality of the Citadel?" Malora Hightower asked, amusement dancing in her eyes and he smiled at her.
"Yeah, you could say that."
"You abused the hospitality of the Citadel?" Ser Baelor Hightower asked, his face serious, in direct contrast to the jovial atmosphere in the high table. "Your grace, this is no laughing matter. Just what did you do in the Citadel?"
"Well… I didn't break their hospitality, technically. But I did do something that broke their trust." He said with a sigh. "And I don't think I'll be welcome back there anytime soon."
"Just what did you do, your grace?" Malora asked once again, though she sounded genuinely concerned this time.
The high table quieted down at this point as the younger members of House Hightower realised that this was actually a serious issue and not something to joke about
"Well… I may or may not have filched over two thousand books from their vast library." He admitted. Though truthfully, it was mostly done by Sarella and Marwyn while he was busy talking with the various Archmaesters.
"You stole from the Citadel?" Layla Hightower asked, sounding aghast.
"Heavens, no. I paid for those books fair and square. In fact, I paid twice, what those books were worth." he replied. "Although, I don't think that's what the receptionist had in mind when he generously offered me to take any book I wanted from their vast library. In my defense though, I only took books that they already had a copy of, so they suffered no loss from my actions."
"Yeah. I'm pretty sure that the receptionist only meant for you to take two or three books, and not empty entire shelves." Malora replied with some amusement, putting the table at ease.
"Why did you take these many books though, your grace?" Humfrey asked with some confusion. "I mean… books are boring."
"Maybe he just wants a large library?" Ser Gunthor Hightower, the Third son of Lord Leyton Hightower suggested.
"I actually planned to read all those books." He said, silencing the murmuring in the Table. "I've already read all the books in the library of Dragonstone. And about half the books in the Library of the Red Keep. I wanted to have something to read during the rest of this voyage."
"The rest of this voyage… you mean the rest of your life?" Alysanne Hightower asked and he simply smiled, not giving them an answer.
"May I inquire, Prince Stephen," asked Ser Garth Hightower, "about the reason for the arrival of all those Maesters at Hightower? While accommodating them is not a problem, it's puzzling why they left the Citadel and came to Hightower instead."
"Oh yeah…" He coughed into his fist in embarrassment. "So you see… I might have filched some of the Archmaesters and maesters from the Citadel as well."
"You… filched some of the Archmaesters?" Ser Garth asked in confusion. "And how do you manage to accomplish that, your grace?"
"I asked them to follow me. And they did." He smiled.
"You asked them to follow you. And they did…" Ser Garth asked, giving him a disbelieving look.
"Yeah. I was very polite about it." He said.
Ser Garth stared at him for a long moment before he threw up his hands in defeat. "Nevermind. You know what, I'll go to the Citadel tomorrow morning and get to the bottom of this myself. I can only pray that you haven't angered those old men too much your grace. Because the Maesters know how to hold a grudge like nothing else."
"Certainly, Ser Garth," he replied with a smile. He knew that the Alcove of Archmaesters were not genuinely upset with him, largely because he had made generous donations in exchange for each Archmaester and Maester he had taken from their ranks.
It was regrettable that he could only recruit two Archmaesters and a dozen maesters into his service. He had hoped to also acquire the service of Archmaester of Smithing, the Archmaester of Cattle and Livestock, and the Archmaester of Economy.
He'll have to see if Marwyn could get him into secret meetings with those Archmaesters.
"What about the Starry Sept?" Lady Leyla asked. "I heard that you went to visit the Sept today. Was it to your liking, your grace? And how was it compared to the Sept of Baelor back in Kings Landing."
He hummed and started telling them a made up story.
After all, it won't do for them to learn that he got into an altercation with the Most Devouts.
Following the story, the conversation at the feast gradually declined to mundane talks, and before long, the feast concluded, allowing him to withdraw to his chambers situated at the peak of the Hightower.
His chambers, where a gift was waiting for him in the form of a voluptuous woman.