GOT: Reborn as a Martell

( Cletus II )

Cletus poured some water over his head as the sun shone right through the room's window. He spared a look at the form on the bed that he'd left a few moments ago. The Fowler girl had given him a night of fun, and was still sleeping.

He decided not to wake her, although it was well past midday, and instead left her with a note and slowly left the girl's room.

He wouldn't have time to make it to the morning spar that he and Quentyn usually attended, but doubted that the young prince could have made it there either, considering Jeyne's sister hadn't made it there either, meaning Quent might just have gotten some action.

It was long overdue for him, and he couldn't wait to discuss it with him. He sprinted down the halls towards Quentyn's chambers, but found them locked.

Raising an eyebrow, he went into the courtyard, scanning for any sign of the prince, and found none. Worried, he made his way towards the master-at-arms, who finally gave him an indication of his whereabouts.

"The prince? Well after attending the morning spar…" the master-at-arms said with a sarcastic tone. "He left with Archibald and headed to the city."

The fish market. Of course!

Quentyn loved taking a stroll down Yronwood's large fish market, the second-largest in Dorne after Plankytown. He usually brought some paper to sketch some drawings of the various landings of the day, and brought a few "interesting specimens", as he called them, back to his rooms.

Cletus couldn't understand why. A dead fish was better in his belly than on a sheet of paper, or whatever Quentyn made of it.

However, making his way down Yronwood's streets, he realised there was no fish market today, and he instead found Archibald strolling down a street, on his lonesome.

"Arch!" he called out. "Where's the prince?"

"Oh, he's in the glass maker shop right across the street."

"The glass maker?" Cletus asked, raising an eyebrow. "What in the seven hells is he doing there."

Arch just shrugged, and Cletus groaned, going inside and finding Quentyn locked in conversation with one of the owners.

He noticed his presence, but kept on continuing his conversation, before finally addressing Cletus.

"So, how was your morning?" Quentyn asked. "Did you know Dorne was the largest glass manufacturer in Westeros?"

"I did." Cletus answered. "What about it?"

"Oh, well I wanted to know how they functioned here. It seems the glass produced in Dorne is a cheaper alternative to the Myrish glass, which is much more high-end." Quentyn explained, as if he had discovered a gold mine.

"Septs need it for their windows, and it is used for vessels, mirrors…"

"Well, this is hardly new information, not many kingdoms produce it."

"Well, it is always good to know you are the sole producers of a luxury item in the continent. Very interesting indeed…and the production of such glass could prove very useful…" the prince mused. "In any case, let us come back to the keep, and not be late for upcoming lessons, eh. Speaking of which, I didn't see you at spar this morning. Gerris and Arch made quick work of me."

"Oh, I was well…occupied with the Fowler girl."

"I thought you disliked the Fowlers."

Cletus chuckled and shrugged.

"Disliking their family for what they've done doesn't mean I won't lay with a comely girl if she steps into my bed." He laughed. "Besides you seemed to have gotten part of the action."

Quentyn stared at him and shook his head.

"I fear she was as interested in my attributes as Arch is interested in peaceful negotiation."

"Oh, I'm sorry…"

"Don't be. As it turns out, although she wasn't attracted by my attributes, she did want to learn a lot of me, courtesy of my sister, who kindly asked her to seduce me as a form of interrogation tactic."

"Wait she…" Cletus' jaw dropped. "And you…"

"Who the fuck do you take me for, Cletus?" Quentyn grimaced. "Of course, I didn't! I told her that if my sister wanted to ask me anything, she'd have to come here herself."

"And you think that Jeyne…"

"Oh yes, her too."

Cletus paled, but Quentyn clasped his shoulder.

"Jennelyn assured me she was attracted to men, though, no need to worry." Quentyn smiled. "But she did leech information off of you."

"I…erm…"

"You sang like a bird." He laughed, earning a chuckle from Arch in the back. "Don't worry, Cletus, I don't hold it against you, and no doubt that most of what you told her she knew anyways. And besides, you both enjoyed yourselves."

"Way to ruin my morning…" Cletus mumbled as he now felt bad for not seeing through Jeyne's actions.

"A new reason to hate the Fowlers!" Archibald blurted out.

"I'm sure Lord Yronwood would disagree, and he's right." Quentyn said, sternly. "They may be allies, and we might just need the both of them. I might just be able to turn Jen against my sister…"

Cletus looked to Quentyn, surprised, as a glimmer of ambition appeared in his eyes and disappeared as soon as it had come.

Before he had time to react, though, Gerris came running to them at the keep's main gate.

"Sorry to interrupt, I was looking everywhere for you. Especially you, Quent." Drinkwater said, gasping for air. "They've found a sea monster, right on the beach."

"A sea monster…" Quentyn's eyes lit up as he sprinted towards his room. "I'm going to get my things, ready the horses!"

Cletus shared a look of disbelief with Archibald as they could barely contain their laughter.

Gerris broke that silence.

"He knows…he's terrible at riding…right?"

"And scared shitless…" Archibald roared with laughter.

Indeed, a few moments later, Quentyn could barely control where his horse was going as it moved like a drunken beast along the trail leading to the beach nearby.

"Control the bridle, Quent!" Cletus shouted to Quentyn, who barely heard anything with the helmet atop his head.

"I'm trying!" was the answer he eventually got, as the prince unsuccessfully tried to bring the horse on a straight track.

"You'd see much better without the silly helmet!" Gerris shouted in turn.

"Safety first!" Quentyn called out as the two shared a look in disbelief.

The beach was only a mile away from the keep, and would not have taken long to get there. However, due to constantly having to help Quentyn get back on the trail…it took longer than expected. But they did make it there.

Yronwood's grand beach was quite a sight to behold. A large beach made of soft, grainy sand, which extended as far as the eye could see, only stopping at Yronwood Harbor, and in the distance, stopped by a large hill. The waters around it were blue, so blue on good days you could see as deep as a hundred feet.

This beach went around the bay, in which Yronwood was nested, providing it with very low exposure to any waves and becoming a safe haven for ships in storms. From the shore, you could see the Isle of Turtles in the distance, aptly named due to the number of tortoises found on the island.

However, this time the usually empty beach was disturbed by something else entirely. Indeed, right in the middle of it stood this massive blue shape, immobile, and threatening.

Quentyn jumped off of his horse, and liberated the frog held in his pouch, letting it jump onto the hot sand as they all attached their horses and made their way towards the shape.

"It must be forty feet long!" Arch cried out. "What a monster!"

Quentyn grinned from ear to ear as he took out some paper and started making sketches, taking a seat in the hot sand, sketching the figure from every angle, complete with notes and measurements. Once he was done, he rose up and followed the crowd assembled around the beast.

"I bet it could swallow a man without a second thought!" Cletus let out as he and Arch discussed the identity of such a beast.

"Unlikely." Quentyn replied. "The windpipe is too small; you'd be spit out immediately."

"Wouldn't this beast hunt us? Look at the size of it." Arch gasped.

"Look in its mouth." Quentyn pointed out.

Cletus and Arch both tried to get a better look, and gasped in surprise. The beast had no teeth, just small, rugged clamps.

"Is it a whale?" Gerris asked. "I've seen no whale like this one."

"It's a shark." Quentyn pointed out. "Look at the holes on its side, these are gills. And whales don't have a tail with that vertical shape, neither do they have two fins."

"Well, I can say one thing for sure…it fucking stinks." Gerris replied, not daring to get too close.

"It's a corpse, Gerris." Cletus answered him. "Of course, it stinks."

"How can you even tell it's a shark anywhom?" Arch asked.

"What? Do you think there are no sharks in Dorne?"

Cletus laughed. Dorne had plenty of sharks in its waters, probably more than any of the other kingdoms actually.

"Of course not, but sharks have teeth!" Arch continued

"This one doesn't." Quentyn replied. "Remember that is has gills. A whale doesn't have gills, it breathes through its blowhole."

"Sometimes I wonder if it's you or your cousin Sarella speaking." Gerris shook his head, still trying to get the fumes off of him.

"Teeth don't make a shark. Just like..." Quentyn stopped himself and muttered something even he couldn't hear, before looking at the sky with a certain melancholy in his eyes. Once he was done, he looked at Cletus, as the crowd dissipated around them. "We should get going before the sun starts to really hit."

Cletus nodded, and they headed back towards the horses, Quentyn picking his frog up on the way, leading it into his pouch.

Suddenly, he sighed and turned straight to Cletus.

"Can I ask you a question, Cletus?"

"You're scaring me, but sure."

"If you had a chance to save someone from a fate, if it meant the possibility that thousands would die, would you do it?"

"You'll have to be clearer." Cletus replied, confused.

"Let's say that you are in a battle, and it isn't going well." The prince laid out a plan in the sand. "You are confident the line can hold, but if you send one of your generals in, that general will guarantee the line will hold. However, that general may lose his life or be wounded in the process."

"Will the line hold anyways if I don't send him in?"

"You don't know. It may, or you might lose the battle and thousands of men."

Cletus stopped for a moment, confused at the moral complexity of the question. On one hand he could sacrifice his general for the good of the battle, but on the other he could save his life and there was a good chance they could win regardless.

He scratched his head.

"I don't know, Quent. I'll have to sleep on it. Why are you asking?"

"Nothing urgent…" he muttered. "Just give me your advice, will you?"

"I promise I will."

"Thanks, Cletus, you're a true friend."

Quentyn set a hand on his shoulders and mounted his horse, trying to make it go into the direction of the keep. But this time, it wasn't Quentyn's horse going off of the trail, but his.

He couldn't help but feel confused. What was this question about? And besides that, what was Quentyn planning? He knew he'd need to find out sooner or later. Something was amiss.

====================

read ahead of the public release in p@treon : 

[email protected]/MoonLight_18