" Before discovering his nature as Dragonborn, Tiberius Octum was already an Archmage at the age of 25 with masteries in Destruction, Alteration, and Restoration, and on his way to obtaining his vaunted mastery in Enchanting. However, people often overlook the Emperor's most important mastery, that of history. In his early days, as admitted by the Emperor himself, he would look for ancient records and legends and pursue those with any modicum of truth. His efforts were often rewarded, as the Emperor's legendary Aetherium Staff can attest."
- Excerpt from " Before The Ruby Throne, Vol 1"
Jon-
The sweet smell of food hit Jon's nostrils as he entered the Great Hall of Winterfell, escorted by his oldest sister. Sansa looked like an unassuming little copy of her mother; their auburn hair and eyes seemed to be one and the same. Unlike Lady Stark, however, Sansa's eyes were not judging, at least not of him. His little sister was a joyful child, overly mindful of fanciful ideas and with her head in songs and romances, not at all what Jon would associate with a Stark of Winterfell.
The Great Hall was decorated just as Jon remembered seeing it when one of Father's important bannermen was visiting. Venison and hog seemed to be the main event, but pastries and other smaller foods were spread on the tables along the hall, and the strong smell of ale and wine allowed Jon to know what drinks would be available.
Jon sat on his chair, by Robb's right and Bran's left; his younger brother looked at the food and drink as if he had never eaten anything before, but like all in the hall, he waited for their father to speak and allow the revelry to start. Father sat in the middle of the table, on the other side of Robb and Lady Stark on his left; Master Volanaro sat by Lady Stark on the left, followed by Sansa and then Arya.
Jon saw his father observe the lower tables with keen eyes; his eyebrows were joined together as if he was in deep thought. After a few minutes passed, he raised his hand, asking for silence, and the whole hall was silenced.
" It is an auspicious day to witness." Father began as he stood; his deep voice was loud and clear for all to hear, " I am proud to announce Winterfell will host representatives from the newly revealed continent of Tamriel. Plans have been made and deals have been struck, and many more shall be hammered down in the future…" Father concluded with a smile on his face; his smile slowly vanished as he stood in silence for a few seconds, letting the few northern lords present digest such information. "Eight years ago my son was taken from Winterfell; I thought him dead… I have never been more glad to be proven wrong. My son returned home, and he brought with him opportunities for the North; and while he is no longer under House Stark banners, he has shown the blood of the first men runs thick. A toast… to new friends and to family." The Lord of Winterfell said as he raised his mug in a toast, Jon and the rest of the hall followed along. Father then nodded to the singers and musicians, who started their merry songs, signaling the feast's start.
" I have news, brother; excellent news," Jon began after he drank from the ale. " One of the mages, Journeyman Alain, has made an important discovery today." Jon said, immediately getting Robb's and Father's attention.
" Tell us then… Do not withhold your words like a gossiper." Robb jested, making Jon and father chuckle
" Ironwood appears to be as ideal to hold enchantments as gold." Jon said, and Robb looked at him with confusion in his eyes, something that Master Volanaro did not share.
" Impossible…that would… Are you sure, Archmage Snow?" Volanaro inquired, his disbelief evident in his tone. It was a plausible reaction in Jon's opinion. Enchanting was a complicated art; metals were able to hold powerful enchantments unlike wood, but when two different enchanted metals were put together to form an item, they would react violently, and the strongest enchantment would eat at the weakest. It is the reason why one would enchant a whole sword instead of enchanting the blade with something and the handle with something else. Such things were not true for wood. Wood, except in some specific kinds, was notoriously difficult to enchant, as it was more of a conduit than a container of magicka, but if a proficient enchanter managed to enchant wood and combine it with an enchanted metal, there would be no side effects except those accounted for.
" Here, do take a look." Jon said, as he handed Volanaro a small piece of ironwood. Jon had enchanted it with a fortify magicka effect after Journeyman Alain had shared his discovery.
"Nine divines preserve us…" Volanaro said the moment he touched the small piece of ironwood. " It can still be used as a foci. This is news indeed…" Volanaro said.
"I do not understand this magic talk, brother, but I do see something valuable when I see one," Robb said, and Father nodded approvingly at his words. Lady Catelyn opened her mouth, but Father made for her to stop, as he clearly wanted Robb to continue. " You as a mage, how much would you be willing to pay for a whole Ironwood tree?"
"Hum… anywhere between fifteen to two thousand gold septims… I am a master enchanter after all; I could make a log into several distinct artifacts and make ten times as much profit…" Jon mused out loud; he heard Sansa and Lady Stark gasp audibly at his number. Father and Robb shared a look.
"These gold septims— how much are they worth in gold dragons?" Robb asked, much to Father's approval once more.
" As of the moment, one septim is worth one gold dragon and a quarter…It should be equivalent to a golden dragon and twenty-two moons." Jon replied, shocking Sansa and Lady Stark even more " Father, would you be willing to write a letter to Lord Forrester? I'm interested in buying Ironwood myself… I have some ideas to make a better staff," Jon asked, and his father nodded in acquiescence.
" I see no problem with that, son." Father began, " If what you say is true then I was already in need of contacting Lord Forrester… " The Warden of the North elaborated; he seemed to take the new revelation in stride.
" That reminds me, I have brought gifts." Jon said as he made a grasping hand and conjured a chest from his spatial pocket. The chest was large, with direwolves carved all over it. Jon slowly got up from his chair and walked towards the chest. " As tradition dictates, the lord of the castle is the first to receive the gifts," Jon said as he reached into the chest and pulled out a heavily enchanted Snow Bear fur cape.
" Jon there's no need." Father began, but Jon shook his head in denial; his father's eyes met his for a few seconds before the Lord of Winterfell relented and reached for the cape.
" It is heavily enchanted… It should make you faster and stronger, and it will heal your wounds, even deadly ones. It is also impenetrable to normal weapons and resistant to magic ones… It cannot be stolen by normal means. It also regulates your temperature…You can wear it in a desert in Dorne, and it should make you feel as comfortable as you are right now." Jon listed the enchantments he was able to lay on the cape. It was exhausting and daunting, but he wasn't The Greatest Enchanter in the history of Tamriel's apprentice just for show. The reactions were as Jon expected, awe… unadulterated awe. Even Lady Stark seemed awed at the Snow Bear cape.
" I have no words… This looks like something directly from the Age of Heroes," Father said, his voice mirroring the awe in his eyes. Jon simply smiled at his father. He then removed a small box from the chest and handed it to Lady Stark. In the depths of his mind, Jon realized the hall had quieted, and many were paying attention to his gift giving.
" I've learned many things in Tamriel, my lady. I have learned that had my father's wife been anyone not as good, well-meaning, and loyal as you are, I would've been dead, buried, and forgotten… This is a diamond necklace enchanted by The Emperor himself in his youth… It's imbued with his own thu'um," Jon said; his words were met with an almost collective gasp by the part of the Tamrielians. Jon understood them; there were not many pieces enchanted by Tiberius out there. For all his legendary unmatched skill in enchanting, the Emperor rarely gave away enchanted artifacts. " It'll calm you down in moments of turmoil, giving you the clarity of mind to ponder your actions; it will also allow you to feel when someone lies to you… and the most important effect, it will allow you to unmake the wounds of someone you love with a kiss… One kiss and even the deadliest of wounds will be unmade as if turning back time, but only those you truly love and as long as they are not already dead." Jon finished; he couldn't quite contain his awe at Tiberius's work. All the enchantments in his father's cape were simple; the complexity of its enchanting had come in layering those many enchantments together. The same could not be said about the necklace; it was a necklace enchanted with mysticism, tonal magic and the metaphorical power of love… It almost intruded upon Lady Mara's divinity.
" It's wonderful… I… Thank you." Lady Stark spoke, her awe evident in her voice. Jon had realized she lacked the animosity she previously held against him; it wasn't because of the gifts Jon knew it, ever since he had arrived in Winterfell Lady Stark treated him differently from before, with no hate or contempt… only guilt.
"You are very welcome, Lady Stark," Jon said as he reached into the chest once more and pulled out a glass hammer and offered it to Robb. " This is Stormcaller, a relic once wielded by Lucius Marcellus, The Warrior, bane of Calemaril Light-Bringer… It's a powerful weapon… it will call lightning upon your enemies. It also returns to your hand once thrown; if you train with it enough, you will be able to control where it flies when you throw it… I've seen Morihatha trow it from the White-Gold Tower all the way to a smuggler's ship in the Waterfront district… It was impressive." Jon commented as he recalled Morihatha's feat of strength, for that was just a throw; she did not use the hammer's enchantments.
" Well, thank you, brother. It is a great gift, almost as great as having you back home," Robb said as he grabbed the hammer with a smile on his face. He threw it away, and midway to its fall, it flew back to Robb's hand. "Wondrous," Robb commented, making Jon laugh.
" When I… left… Winterfell, you were too young for me to have a grasp on your likes and dislikes, Sansa… Therefore, I will present you with a gift that any noblewoman would find useful." The young archmage spoke as he once again reached into the chest and pulled out a small box full of gems. Sansa seemed to be bereft of words and simply beamed at him as she took the box of gems.
" The same applies to Bran and Arya… When I left, one of you was not even born, and the other was a little whelp…" Jon began, but he could not finish as he was interrupted.
" You do not have to give me a gift… Just teach me magic." Arya said quickly, as if afraid someone would stop her from talking; a wise assumption, as her mother quickly let her displeasure at Arya's boldness be known.
" Arya Stark! You…" Lady Stark began, and Bran seemed to want to say something as well, but they were interrupted by Father, who raised his hand as if demanding silence. Lady Stark, as a well-taught noblewoman, acquiesced to her husband's wish, as did Bran, surprisingly. Father simply looked at Jon with a raised eyebrow but offered no words.
" I cannot make this decision alone…" Jon began slowly " The magic I know and the manner it was taught to me… are unusual… and I am not sure of what I can teach you that is not an imperial family secret." Jon said still very slowly as he contemplated his sister's question. Jon should've expected such if he was to be honest with himself; the fact that he did not and that Tiberius didn't either could mean his master expected Jon to touch on the subjeck. " I will talk to my master as well as your lady mother, and Father… If no objections are raised, I will teach you during the time I am here…" Jon said, much to Arya's hopeful disappointment. Bran seemed to want to rebel at such an arrangement, but Lady Stark's glare shut the boy quiet. Jon smiled at him, however
" I have a book for the both of you. Kolb and the Dragon… there aren't many magical items for children, I am afraid… The idea that magic could be treated with anything but care is a dangerous one and therefore not encouraged… I shall leave some artifacts with Father,and when he deems you ready, he will pass them to you." Jon said as he handed a copy of Kolb and the Dragon to both Arya and Bran.
Both Bran and Arya seemed less enthused about the gift; that was until they realized they could interact with the story itself. Jon looked at Lady Stark once more and handed her a few wooden blocks for little Rickon; the little toys were extremely favored by Wayrest nobility.
The rest of the feast passed as quickly as one would imagine, as did the following week. Jon tried his best to buy furniture for the embassy as well as spend time with Robb and his siblings. Jon also started building the portal to the White-Gold Tower, which would allow Calanye to arrive in Westeros.
The morning of his eighth day in Winterfell found Jon in his solar in the new embassy. Jon had brought some paintings and personal items to give some life to the tower; he placed new wards and protective spells in his tower, smoothing the mages had taken great joy in observing, not that it gave them much to understand; most of his wards were standard wards, no different than what one would find in a mage's guild. Jon was writing down the main needs the North had and what prices they would be willing to pay, as well as what they had to trade, when he heard small footsteps trying to sneak into his solar silently. Jon kept looking at the paper as he hid a smile. Slowly but surely little Arya entered the room; her half-taken steps were similar to a small kitten unsure of its environment.
"It was foolish of you to come here, Arya." Jon began, " The first place your mother will look for you will be here." Jon said as he avoided looking at Arya lest he start laughing at her mischievousness.
" She will not find me if you hide me." Arya said, the certainty in her voice was like steel, as opposed to her little eyes, Jon imagined; those puppy eyes his sister directed at him were deadly in the best of days.
" I will not hide you, sister." Jon began, his affirmation drawing a long gasp from Arya " For Robb is already here… behind you as a matter of fact." Jon said, which made Arya turn around and indeed find Robb; Jon's brother had a lopsided smile on his face as he stared at their sister.
" It seems you are out of luck, Arya." Robb said as he reached down and grabbed Arya like one would a sack of potatoes, a thought that made Jon add potatoes to the list of foods the North would be interested in. " I will take you back now, little sister." Robb said, and Arya, who a few seconds ago was laughing and giggling at the manner Robb had grabbed her, seemed to grow sad.
" Do sit down, brother; I have something I would like you to try." Jon said as he summoned a Black-Briar mead from his spatial dimension; at the same time, he created two cups made of ice. Robb looked at the mead with curiosity and smiled at Jon when he offered him a cup. " This is Skyrim's best mead, the whole of Tamriel's in Tiberius's extremely biased opinion… his favorite cousin is married to a Black-Briar, and she has been so for almost 50 years, even before the Stormcloak uprising." Jon said as he took a large gulp, Robb following suit. His brother seemed to enjoy the drink, so much that he took another, larger gulp.
" This is good, Jon. The gods know I needed some of that." Robb said, which made Jon look at him with an inquisitive eyebrow.
" Is something wrong?" Jon asked with a small smile, " Was someone finally able to beat you in the yard?" Jon japed much to Robb's laugh and shake of head. Robb had taken his disappearance hard, it seemed, so much so that he had breathed the training yard when younger, and it bore fruit. His brother had become a beast with a sword, unmatched by all except Centurion Janus, and much of Centurion Janus's success was due to his fighting style, which was completely foreign to Robb.
" No… not yet." Robb said with a small smile on his face; he grunted and adjusted Arya on his shoulder, making their sister let out a growl of protest "They caught some Wildlings yesterday…. cannibals; they were eating a Black-Brother… a deserter, it seems." Robb said, and Jon scrunched his nose in disgust; Arya mirrored his expression as she let out a disgusted sound.
" The block?" Jon asked
" The block." Robb replied, and Jon nodded, " Father will probably send for you, if you are not too busy." Robb said, and Jon nodded once again.
" I shall accompany you, brother," Jon said, and Robb smiled as he got up
" We'll leave shortly, before the hour of the stag." Robb began, " I will just return this one to Mother," Robb said as he shook Arya a little, much to the girl's delight.
Jon and his father's party rode in the crispy morning toward the place Father would take the cannibals' heads. Father's good mood seemed to have evaporated like water in a Dwemer steam tank; his small smiles were nowhere to be seen, and instead a cold mask donned his face. Jon expected he would have to intervene in the wildlings questioning, as they had been notoriously stubborn in keeping their silence, something that could not be allowed as news from a King-Beyond-The-Wall did not come so easily by.
The Wildlings were, as the name suggested, wild men; all of them looked defiant as certain death approached. They spat on the ground when they saw Father, which granted them a nice gloved cuff on the head. Father dismounted and had a brief conversation with one of his man-at-arms, who seemed disgruntled at something. Jon and Robb dismounted as well, followed by Bran, who seemed far more serious than any child had any right to be.
The two eldest sons of Eddard Stark walked towards their father together; Jon had his hands behind his back while Robb held Ice.
"They will not speak." Father said simply; his deep voice was as cold as the frozen rivers of Skyrim.
" Oh but they don't need to… I am nowhere near as prodigious in mind magic as I ought to be but with this lot, I need not be careful…" Jon offered. Father seemed reluctant at first, but he understood the need for information better than anyone, and with an almost too-slow nod, he allowed Jon to do what he wanted. Jon nodded as he summoned his staff, and, in a movement too fast for many to catch, he cast a paralyze spell on the most stubborn of cannibals.
" What the fuck…" Jon heard one of the cannibals say; he quickly hit all of them, bar the paralyzed one, with a silencing ward, making the whole clearing go quiet once more.
The clearing remained in silence for a few minutes, time which Jon used to slowly create a scenario that would have the man reply to any questions his father had. When Jon finally cast the magic, it came in the form of a ball of water; it hit the man's face and was absorbed.
" It is done; the man will think you are a man he respects and trusts…" Jon said as he stepped back. A few minutes later,all the cannibals were short a head, and the already bad mood plummeted down even more with the talk of White Walkers, wights, and the largest army the wildlings ever assembled.
As they rode back, Father, as if he had been called by someone, deviated from the path and was almost thrown off his horse when a massive grey direwolf, with pups behind her, graced the Lord of Winterfell's path. The direwolf didn't seem surprised or afraid of the man bearing steel, and neither did Father when faced with a direwolf as large as a warhorse.
" Do not attack… This one is mine,." Fathe said. Jon saw in the corner of his eyes Ser Roderick mouthing a "the fuck" he was barely able to hide. " The pups… the pups are my children's… Harm any of them, and you will face the block." Father said.
Hours later, Jon had a white direwolf pup lying on his lap as he wrote down another report about a possible race of necromantic beings from the lands of always winter.
Calanye-
Calanye found her father seated on the Ruby Throne as he listened to some of the nobles' petitions. The Imperial Throne room was full of people from all races; however, as was the rule of thumb in the past weeks, the Argonian and the Dunmer nobility were heavily present. As far as Calanye heard, both factions were keeping their discussions civil. The Emperor's youngest daughter imagined it was mostly due to the peaceful and detached nature of most Saxhleel "nobility," who treated the Dunmer with pretty much the same level of apathy that they treated every non-Saxhleel, including their fellow Argonians who were not connected to the Hist.
Calanye looked at her father, who seemed to be in deep thought as he heard the small land dispute between two of Skyrim's landed thanes. At the Ruby Throne steps, father's steward, Faendal Greenleaf, a veteran of both the Skyrim Civil War and the Second Great War, stood with several documents in his hands.
"... Been in my family for ages, and now this milk drinker wishes to take my land just when I found silver in the mountains, Your Majesty." The older Thane said, his cursing made her father lips twitch in amusement.
"Thane Frost-Beard, there's no need for name-calling in the throne room… Let us maintain a level of civility." Faendal said. The old thane seemed rebellious at Faendal's words, but he eventually nodded.
"Faendal, bring me the maps… both old ones and new." Father said, his voice silencing the room as always. Faendal quickly rose the Ruby Throne steps and handed Father two maps. Father was silent for a few moments before he let out a loud sigh and handed the maps back to Faendal, who quickly made his way down the steps.
"Thane Frost-Beard, I've heard you only have a daughter; is that correct?" Father asked, his deep voice carrying all over the room.
"Aye, Your Majesty." Thane Frost-Beard said, his voice was almost a question in itself.
"Thane Iron-Shield, part of the land given to you by Jarl Frother Balgruuffson was already owned by Thane Frost-Beard. That land was gifted to the Clan Iron-Shield by Jarl Frother's own grandsire Jarl Thorald The Calm… and according to the Imperial Law in acquiescence to Skyrim inheritance law, land given by a Jarl can only be seized as punishment for crime… such is not the case." Father began, his words making Thane Iron-Shield's face go paler than a Nord's regular complexion "However… such cases are rare and Jarl Frother's blunder will allow me to set a precedent… I would ask you to take Thane's Frost-Beard daughter to wife; while she lives as your wife, three quarters of the mine's revenues will go to your family; once your son takes over after you, the mine rights will return to Clan Frost-Beard." Father proposed as he raised a hand to stall Thane's Frost-Beard eminent protest.
"Aye, Your Majesty… Thane Frost-Beard's daughter is sweet in the eye, and I've heard she packs a mean punch. I've already invested in the mine, and this agreement is honorable." Thane Iron-Shield said, which seemed to be the breaking point for Thane Frost-Beard, whose red face exploded in rage.
"I WILL NOT HAVE IT, BOY!" The old thane began; his rage made him apoplectic but not mad, it seems, for he dared not throw those words at her father, choosing instead to shout at Thane Iron-Shield.
"Silence…" Father said and the thane immediately obeyed; his rage was swallowed up like a large old frog "You will maintain your voice level in my halls, thane… I assure you that you do not wish for me to raise my voice at you," Father said, and the hall, which was previously quiet, became deathly so as the Emperor's threat was easy to be understood.
"Aye, Your Majesty, I apologize for my outburst." Thane Frost-Beard said, and Father nodded.
"I accept your apology, Thane," Father began, " Should you accept my offer, I will have you abdicate your thanehood in favor of your daughter; she will rule your lands and her second son will succeed her and take Clan Frost-Beard leadership…" Father said, and Thane Frost-Beard seemed lost as if he did not understand something.
"Your Majesty… Why am I being punished? Have I done something to displease you so?" The old Thane asked; his voice was troubled, which was fair; to the Nords, Father was as good a god, and to incur his displeasure was akin to becoming a plague-ridden beggar.
"I am not punishing you, thane…" Father began, " I would give you a seat in my Elder Council… as a gift for overlooking the offense caused by Jarl Frothar…. Your daughter will marry Thane Iron-Shield; your grandchildren will eventually rule both your lands and his… The mine is inconsequential." Father said, and the old thane immediately fell on his knees with his head bowed.
"It would be an honor to serve you directly, Dragonborn… Your Majesty. My ancestors would come down from Sovngarde if I dared deny you." Thane Frost-Beard spoke.
"Rise, thane…" Father said and then he looked at Faendal, " This is the last one Today, Faendal… Do send a message to Elisif; have her send someone to look into Frothar. This is the third blunder of this level ever since he became the Jarl of Whiterun. The last one made the Khajiit Caravans stop going north for half a year… I will not have a fourth one... The next time, I'll travel north myself, and no one will like that." Father said as he got up, the frown on his face was unmistakable. Calanye wondered if Morihatha would get any backlash from this whole debacle; Father has always been protective of Whiterun, and now an utter idiot rules it, with no one policing him.
"I will do so, Your Majesty," Faendal said as he bowed his head. Father, however, stood on the Ruby throne's last step as if ready to start a speech. The throne room quieted immediately as they waited for her father to start.
"There have been rumors circulating around my empire about the finding of a new continent east of Tamriel." Father began, his voice steady and deep, as controlled as her father's best spell. "I have asked my Elder Council to withhold their tongues, and they have done so admirably; however, the time secrecy is over… The rumors are true; we have found a new continent to the east; moreover, the finding of this new land coupled with the fact that Mundus has been completely cut off from Oblivion implies we are in a new dimension that heavily favors Anuid energies, or so is the Psijic Order's initial belief." Father explained. He gave a small pause as he observed the nobles in the room. The news seemed to excite most of them; Tamriel had finally found freedom from the Daedra's manipulations. "However, this new dimension appear to have evil gods of its own… I sensed their presence at the boundaries of Akathosh's covenant; they attempted to breach the Borhamu's defenses, resulting in the immediate destruction of one of them…a Toad demon god of sorts." Father said, his words causing murmurs to arise among the nobles.
"Your Majesty, how are we in a new dimension if we can still feel the Divine's powers, and as you yourself claimed, Akatosh's covenant still protects us from dark forces?" The High Priest of Akatosh, Dravos Aurion, asked, his head bowed so as not to gaze at Akatosh's youngest and most powerful son without permission.
"Tamriel is where Mundus began; it was here the Aedra gave part of themselves to create the mortal plane. Only the Divines, if they chose to, could move Tamriel in dimensions," Father said, and the High Priest bowed lower.
"Your Majesty, I dare not question such wisdom, but why haven't the Divines done so in the past?" The High Priest asked, and Calanye felt herself asking the same question.
"I may be Akatosh's son, but my father's wisdom and motives flee me as they do every mortal, dear priest. I know not his reasons, but… my very educated guess would be that someone, a mortal, started the phenomenon and the Divines simply took advantage of such," Father said, and the High Priest nodded, albeit he seemed out of it.
"Well… Divine matters aside…" Father jokingly said, evoking a few chuckles from his lickspittles, "The Padomay Ocean is not yet safe for travel; something I shall personally rectify. Valek Sain was slippery enough to survive Odahviing's raid in his little pirate kingdom and has sailed to Ynslea, taking over the island and claiming it for himself." Father said, the anger in his voice was clear and cold; Velehk Sain would be a dead daedra soon, of that Calanye was certain.
Father looked at all nobles in the throne room, and suddenly the world came to a stop and all held their breath as Grandmaster Blaise entered the Throne Room carrying the Sword of Kings, Crysamere. Calanye found herself gasping, as did many others in the room. Father was about to declare war upon Velehk Sain. The Grandmaster of the Blades walked the halls of his overlord with a calm smile on his face; he held the legendary sword horizontally as if offering it to her father all the way on top of the Ruby Throne; he slowly made his way up the throne steps, and the moment Father grasped the Sword of Kings, Grandmaster Blaise fell on his knees, something which was mirrored by all in the room, Calanye herself among them.
"In the year Forty-Second of the Fifth Era, by the grace of Akatosh and by my will, I, Tiberius Octum, the Emperor of Tamriel, Last Dragonborn, Vanquisher of Alduin, Bane of the Thalmor, Thur of All Dovah, Lord of the Ruby Throne, and Protector of the Nine Provinces, declare war against Velehk Sain and his band of pirates. Let it be known that any association with said pirate will count as treason against your emperor, and such will be punished accordingly." Father said, his words as sharp as ebony, " General Xal-Thax, I task the ninth legion with the eradication of the pirates and the repossession of Ynslea in my name; it shall fall to you and your legion the task to fight Valehk Sain's men while I shall personally take upon his new… associate Arox the mutilator." Father said, causing another round of whispers to arise. General Xal-Thax, who had stepped forward when Father called upon him, nodded his head and saluted Father with his hands on his chest, formally accepting his new assignment.
The hours after Father's announcement flew by Calanye, and by the time supper came, she was wholly unprepared to face her father when she was summoned by him.
When she entered Father's private supper chamber, she found not only her father and mother but also Morihatha and Calandor as well. Morihatha looked like she had come directly from a hunting in Skyrim, and Calandor was still wearing his High Chancellor's robes, which implied time passed by them as it had for Calanye. Mother and Father looked as regal as always, not a hair out of place.
"Sit, my child; I have news for you." Mother said as she gestured toward the food. "Your father had your favorite food prepared today." Mother finished with a smile that warmed Calanye on the inside. She looked at her father, who also gave her a small smile; his eyes, however, showed how much he loved giving her her favorite things.
"Thank you, Father." Calanye began, " The Gods knows I'll not have this kind of food for a long time… Unless you intend to send one of your cooks with me? I swear I will behave really well if you do so." Calanye asked with a hopeful tone, which for some reason made her father laugh, a genuine laugh, which unfortunately shook the entire White-Gold Tower, much to her mother's displeasure.
"Stop that, Tiberius!" Mother whispered as he hit Father with little, adorable slaps on his arms, slaps that just made Father laugh more, but this time he managed to control his thu'um.
"Oh, do forgive me, my love." Father said with a smile on his face; his eyes had small tears on their corners. "And aye, Calanye, I shall send one of my cooks with you if you wish for such a thing." Father said, and Calanye nodded rapidly, her hair moving up and down with her gesture.
"Of course she gets what she wants… that is so unfair…" Morihatha said with no real heat in her words.
"Dear… You wanted to make Frost Trolls part of a legion; that is simply unreal." Mother said and Mori simply sighed in response
"Kintyra gets to run around in Blackreach doing Divines know what, and I can't have Trolls in my legion." Morihatha murmured, and Mother huffed, and then she looked at Father and used her fork to point at him
"This is your fault, Tiberius… Your daughters are as willful as you are." Mother said, and Father raised his hands in mock surrender, "All my daughters are just like their mother, love, isn't that what you said when Kintyra had her first research published by Gwylin?"
"You dare use my own words against me, Octum?" Mother said with mock rage. Father simply laughed and grabbed his wife, giving her a loving kiss.
"Eww," Morihatha and Calanye said at the same time. Her family enjoyed their little time together for a few more minutes. Morihatha did end up being chastised by Father due to the Thanes' land dispute.
"Calanye, Jon has finished the portal… You will depart in two days." Father said as he broke the small, comfortable silence the room had fallen into.
"Indeed, dear, here are your main objectives as assigned by the Elder Council… I shall be the one communicating with you most of the time, as your father will be otherwise occupied with the pacification of Ynslea." Calandor said as he handed Calanye a small pile of papers.
"Thank you, Calandor," Calanye said with a small smile "Well, I have already started packing my things and essential tomes…" Calanye began, and her conversation with her father, mother, sister, and Calandor lasted a few more hours.
On the second day after the Emperor's declaration of war, Calanye used a portal to arrive in Winterfell. She had many objectives, but only one was of personal interest: sparring against a certain Ice and Fire Archmage.