287 AC

The wind was with them as they sailed home and Muirgen Snow could not have been happier. She was of the North, but the North had not been her home in quite some time. To be honest, in the last four years, she had not been in one place long enough to call anywhere home. Home to her was where her lord was, the man she had sworn her life to.

And regardless of what other Sworn Shields could say about their lieges, Muirgen Snow could say for certain that her lord, Hinrik 'Harry' Baratheon was far from any normal lord. He did not act, talk, or believe like other lords she had seen and met. For someone so young, at barely four-and-ten, he had a sense of wisdom about him that she admired and that most people of high upbringing lacked. Harry judged people not by their titles or wealth, but of the deeds they did. She could personally attest to that.

Muirgen could still remember the day she had come into his service.


It was the nameday tourney of Harry Baratheon, the new young lord of Dragonstone. His father, Stannis Baratheon, and mother, Selyse Baratheon, had organized a fairly large competition with sums of gold for the winners for the archery competition and joust. The champion of the melee, the young lord's favorite competition, was to be granted a favor by the young lord that was within his power. Well, his father's power really.

The best part was that the melee was open to all who wish to enter. So long as they had live steel armor and weapons suitable to the task. It was not a competition to enter into lightly as lives were made and lost in such duels. But, for someone like Muirgen, a bastard of the House Mormont, did not care about death. As a bastard she knew there were worse punishments.

It had been a difficult thing to do. Even though she stood taller and as broad as most men, Muirgen did not quite have the raw physical strength that men her size did. But, she had learned long ago that man or woman, they all played with the toys the gods gave them. That was what gave her the upper hand on all the men who had joined.

Muirgen had won the melee, beaten and battered, but she had survived and would ask for the highest honor someone of her birth could ask for.

She kneeled in front of the raised platform that sat the noble families. The excitement was evident in the young lord's eyes, his enthusiastic clapping and cheering more open than she had seen other lord's allow their children.

Harry looked every bit a Baratheon. His hair was black as night and wild. He stood taller for someone even two years older and was just as broad at the shoulders. But, he did not have the pounds of muscles his uncle did. Instead, Harry was as sinewy as his father. What caught Muirgen most were the child's eyes. Yes, they held wisdom to them that she was sure she imagined, but it was not that caught her attention. It was the fact that his eyes were emerald; the brightest emerald green color she had ever seen. They were so bright they damn near sparkled underneath the midday sun. His intelligence showed a little later when he addressed her.

"You have won the melee and you are entitled to a favor. What would you ask of me…my lady?" He added with a small grin on his lips. She was shocked. Her helm had been one well before she had made her way to the arena and her armor gave no hint to her gender. It was with a small smile she undid her helm and placed on the floor beside her.

Harry bid her to rise and gestured for the crowd to quiet down. They could hardly be blamed. Women fighting in the North were uncommon, but nowhere near as uncommon as it was in the South. Muirgen imagined that her stature did not help her cause. She stood as tall and broad as any man, with short black hair that was almost in the same style as Harry's, if albeit longer.

But, out of all of them, it was Harry that was the least surprised. Maybe she had not imagined his knowing grin from early.

"I am no lady, my lord."

"Well, I would have your name then."

"Muirgen Snow." She replied, biting her cheek as her surname slipped past her lips. The crowd murmured even louder. Again, Harry had to raise his hands to quiet them.

"And what would you ask, Muirgen Snow?" He asked, giving her a penetrating look, a look far to unnerving for any child to be in possession of.

"Young lord, I know I am a bastard, but if it please you, I would ask to be made your Sworn Shield. If granted the honor, I give my word I would guard you better than you could expect from the Kingsguard. The Stranger would have taken my soul well away before I allowed any harm to befall you. I would serve you proudly, faithfully, and with unquestioning devotion. By the gods, old and new, if given the task, I will swear it." Muirgen said confidently. But, inwardly she felt none of her bravado. Already she heard some of the lords and ladies chuckles and giggles at her audacity. 'What good is word of a bastard,' some of them openly jeered. When he had said nothing and the murmurs and jeering were all she heard, Muirgen had half a mind to stand up and sprint away in shame. But, a thud in the dirt caused her to look up.

Harry Baratheon was right in front of her, so close she could reach out and touch him. He regarded her with an inquisitive look, as if she was a puzzle to be solved. Then, unexpectedly, he bent at the waist until they were face to face. He stared at her and she found herself unable to turn away from his eyes. It was as if Harry did not see her face, he saw her soul. And in that moment, she knew she was being judge far more harshly than any trial of guilt. Muirgen was being measured. She stared back, refusing to flinch, lest she be found wanting.

"How old are you?" He asked. It was such an unexpected question she was taken back.

"Uh, seven-and-ten, my lord." She answered after gathering her bearings.

"You are a bit young to be a Sworn Shield. Do you have no want for marriage? Children? Family?" Harry questioned privately, still peering at her queerly.

"No, my lord. What self-respecting man would take a bastard to be his wife? I know what I am my lord. I know what I look like too. I am neither the woman bards sing songs about nor the kind that men go to war for. All I have in this life is my strength and skills with arms." Muirgen explain, unbelievably open considering they had just met that day. Of course she knew of him, but she did not know him.

"In my humble opinion you do not look so bad my lady that no man would take you, but you're sure you have no want of your own family?" He tried again. She was starting to think he was playing with her, toying with her emotions only to laugh her off.

"No, my lord." She sighed, waiting for the metaphorical axe to drop.

"If you are sure. I would hate to take you on only for you to forsake your duty at a later date."

Muirgen's head jerked up so fast she might have broke her neck. But, she didn't care. Not if he was saying what she thought he was saying.

Harry took a step back and announced loudly enough for the crowd could hear.

"I am a young, so I only know few things," he said, speaking to the crowd of townsfolk and nobles alike. They all listened with rapt attention. "But, what I am certain of, is that anyone can become great if they but have the constitution for it. Ser Barristan Selmy is a fine example," He held out a hand and pointed to her, a look of pride that she was sure she mirrored if not outdid exponentially.

"Now, Muirgen Snow as another. People of Dragonstone, I give you the champion of the melee and my Sworn Shield, Muirgen Snow!"

He took her hand and raised it as high as he could, not very high considering her height advantage on him. She would never forget the cheer of the crowd as he heralded her his Shield, nor would she forget the words after. He looked over to her and gave an assuring smile.

"I cannot make you a knight. But, I have no doubt that one day, you will earn that honor all by yourself." Harry said quietly over the roar of the crowd.

Muirgen knew in that moment, that if she would never do so again in her life, that on the seventh moon of that year, she had made the right decision. She would do everything in her power to never make him regret his decision.


His father had many things to say about Harry's public announcement. Stannis had tried to shame Harry, belittle him, even going so far as to order his son to foreswear her. But, Harry rejected all of his reprimands and vehemently denied disowning her. He had given his word and he would not turn back on it. Muirgen knew he would make a great true knight and lord one day.

But, after it all, Muirgen had to pass one final test.

Harry had invited her into his bedchambers in the middle of the night. A thing she thought nothing of since he was just a boy. Apparently, it was a folly on her part. He was pleasant at first, but that quickly changed when he commanded her to disrobe. The command shocked Muirgen to her very core. Harry removed the bed covers from himself to reveal himself in his small clothes. He was impressive to be sure, but he was still just a boy. At her hesitation, he told her he would not ask again. ''Unquestioning devotion', that was what you said.' He parroted back to her.

It made her feel ill at what she had to do. But, she had given her word and Muirgen Snow was a bastard, but she was no oath breaker. It was with a slowness she disrobed, not out of sensuality, but shame. She did not even want to know why it had to be her. If he wanted someone to warm his bed, she would have rode into the city and paid a woman for her time. Was that not what lords did?

It took forever to finally be undressed, but it felt like no time at all. She stood stark as the day she was born and he motioned for her to kneel right in front of him, right in front of his boy cock. Muirgen had never done such a thing before, but had heard of men talk of such things. She had thought of biting him, ruining him for any other woman, but wouldn't. He had given her everything she could have hoped to achieve in her life. If she had to go through such degrading acts to pay for it, then so be it.

Harry motioned for her to get on with it, assuming she knew what she was doing. Muirgen had to swallow, lest the bile rising in her throat come out and stain her new lord. She did her best to remain impassive, to not allow her disgust show. He might have denied his father to disavow her, but that did not mean he could not. She reached for his small clothes, trembling all the while. The garments did not even leave his hips when Harry put his hands on hers and smiled so affectionately at her. He took her hands from his small clothes and set them at her sides. His hands went to her cheek and he brought her head forward so he may plant a chaste kiss on her forehead.

'Thank you.' He had said, before grabbing her clothes and handing them to her.

She was only shocked for a moment before the anger and embarrassment flooded her. Muirgen raged at him as loudly as propriety allowed. It would not due for her to yell so loudly guards came into his room. What is all a joke? Something he had done to shame her? A sick twisted fantasy for him to play with her?

Throughout it all, Harry sat on his bed in his small clothes and listened to her as she covered her nonexistent modesty. When she was out of breath and flush from her spent rage Harry spoke words to her that rang truer than words from any master or septa.

'Many men swear oaths, many knights pledge loyalties and allegiances, but almost all of it is just wind from their mouths. You are to be my Sworn Shield and that to me means more than guarding my body. You are to guard my secrets, be my confidant, the person I trust most in this world, even that above my father, mother, and one day, lady wife. I would have proof that your words are not empty and meaningless as many who have given oaths before you.'

She was rendered speechless. Especially since, even with her sitting there naked, he sat legs folded underneath him without fear for his modesty and proceeded to ask her to tell him about her life and the North.

After that day he had truly taken her in, Harry had stationed her room right across from his. He informed her of his normal routine and she attended to him, never straying far from his side, even joining him and his family during meal times. He took his responsibility of being her lord very seriously. Harry bought her better armor, her last in tatters after the competition, and it was nowhere near the quality he had the castle smith make. He also replaced her weapons. She protested, but Harry shushed her.

'You are my sworn shield. That means you represent me and by extension House Baratheon of Dragonstone. I will not have a shield that looks like a ragamuffin. You may be of the North, but you will look every bit the Southern Lady…with armor and weapons.' He explained with finality. It only made her want to prove herself worthy even more.

She trained with the knights and guardsmen at Dragonstone, pushing herself with a reckless abandon to her own safety. Muirgen fought harder and faster, often driving the men to their knees and backs when she knew Harry was watching.

As time went on, she became more integral in his life. When the maids came to set out his clothes, she made sure they were things he liked to wear. When his father had given him his first real sword, she showed him how to sharpen and maintain it. Often, they would be in his bedchambers and she would tell him stories of the North while they sharpened their swords.

And when Harry convinced his mother and father that he wanted to travel the Seven Kingdoms before he was tied down to Dragonstone, mostly convince his mother, Muirgen followed faithfully. And travel they did, with nothing but two purses full of coin, their swords, two horses, a few sets of clothes and a leather jug for water.

They had so many adventures together. The went to King's Landing, which wasn't at all that interesting, and took King's Road to Harrenhal, the once mighty fortress that was laid waste by Dragon Fire. Then, they stopped by Crossroads Inn on their way to the Vale. Next, they went to the North, where Muirgen showed Harry her old stomping grounds before going as far as the Wall. Lannisport in the Westerlands, the gardens and farmland of the Reach, before going back to King's Landing on their way to Dorne. Muirgen asked about the Stormlands, but Harry had said he had lived their as a child and there was so many other things to see. Dorne had to be by far her lord's favorite place. They traveled roads and mountain passes, living off the land, practicing his sword skills on their way. From Starfall, to Yronwood, to Sunspear, Harry loved it all; their culture, their music, their art, and especially their wine and women.

Her lord had become a man in Dorne, being invited to lie in bed with some serving girl at a tavern. Muirgen stood by, casually sipping on Dornish wine, as she guarded the door. It took longer than she was told men lasted their first time, but it did go on longer than one time. She would hear the pleasurable noises and girlish giggles, followed by finishing groans. Then, silence would ensue. When she was tempted to peek to make sure her lord still alive, the noises started again. They were in there so long, Muirgen made sure to pay the girl for time lost.

They had spent a good amount of time in Sunspear. So long in fact, they had been invited to dine with Prince Doran and Oberyn who had caught wind of his presence there. She was reluctant to go, the Martells having been against the Baratheon's during King Robert's Rebellion. But, her lord just laughed and pointed out that if they had wanted to kill him, they could have done so at any time and none would have been the wiser.

He drank with Oberyn and followed the Prince to a few of the upper-ended whorehouses; something that Harry normally never partook in. He always wanted the women willing. If it was for coin, then he was a job rather than a pleasure. Muirgen believed it was because he did not want to offend Prince Oberyn, who thought himself teaching a young man how to be one. Muirgen did not agree, but it was not her place to question her lord.

Only guard.

Harry and her stayed at the palace their last few weeks in Dorne, before Harry had decided it was time to go back home. In that time, he had made great friends with Oberyn's bastards and the Princess Arianne. They would go riding under her watchful eye or training in the training yard with wooden swords, shields, and spears. He seemed to get along well with Arianne and Muirgen could see a potential marriage between them. Even, if only to mend the rift created by his uncle and the kingdom of Dorne. Muirgen had even seen the princess give Harry a kiss good bye before exchanging a few words. She wondered if the kiss was all she had given him before they left. Dorne's customs were after all very different that where they were from. But, shook the thought away. The girl had probably not yet even had her first moon's blood.

And so, they had set sail for home. A ship had taken them from Sunspear to Evenfall Hall near Shipbreaker's Bay and from there they bought passage for Dragonstone. She could only imagine his father and mother's surprised when they finally arrived home.

Harry looked more a Baratheon than he did when he left. His hair was still black and wild, but he certainly had filled out more for a young man of three-and-ten. His shoulders, chest, arms, and legs had filled out with muscles. The hard life had done his body good. Muirgen could personally attest to how well sculpted he was bare and any woman who was lucky enough to have him would not be disappointed in body or spirit. If there was anything she had learned about him, it was Harry was always willing to rise to the occasion. In arms, drink, or women.

He stood at the bow of the ship, one foot on the railing, the sea wind brushing back his hair and Muirgen could not help but think of the stories of lord's sail to conquer lands or saved beautiful princesses. Harry had always kept his shorter than most men, never letting his shoulder touch his neck or shoulders. But, that took nothing away from how handsome he looked. Muirgen could testify to how many women found him desirable for his splendor alone. He had one hand on the long sword at his side, a little on the smaller side for how much he had grown, the other on his knee. His face was split into a wide smile when they could finally see the port of Dragonstone and Muirgen could tell that while her lord had enjoyed their travels, he was happy to be home.

Muirgen put on hand on her own sword, a fine piece of castle forged steel that Harry had bought her, and made his way to him. He appeared deep in thought, but when she approached close enough, Harry turned to look over his shoulder at her, an action that made her smile. The road had been a harsh life and he had learned many hard lessons.

"Eyes in the back of your head, my lord." Muirgen complimented as she laid her hand on his shoulder.

"A harsh life lesson you have helped me with my friend." Harry replied, "And I told you, you can call me Harry when we are like this, Muirgen."

Muirgen shook her head with a smile. He had been trying to get her to drop his title when they traveled. She had when in places packed with people, no need putting a target on his back. But, when they could speak freely Muirgen always reverted back to his respectful and earned title. He was her lord. He had done everything a lord should when it came to people in their service and Muirgen would not be the one to discount such things.

"And I told you. It's either my lord, or Young Lord Hinrik Baratheon, Heir of Dragonstone. The latter is such a mouthful, don't you agree my lord?" Muirgen jested.

It was Harry's turn to shake his head and chuckle. But, then he turned serious.

"Muirgen," He began hesitantly, "there is no need to tell my father and mother of everything that happened on our journey."

"You mean the women you bedded?" She asked curiously.

"Among other things." He nodded back.

"Ah, my lord. Many young men are curious as to what it feels like to lie with a woman. I doubt your parents would be angered too much with using your spear on a few women. Besides-" Muirgen cut off her platitudes when she saw the look on Harry's face. The meaning of his words had sunk in.

The road of their journey was hard, a fact she constantly told herself. She believed it to do him good, but Muirgen forgot that while the road had made him strong and knowledgeable about the world, it made him far too knowledgeable.

It was an impossibility to travel as far and wide as they did without running into…problems. In the beginning, Muirgen had been able to handle them on her own, no more than two or three highwaymen that lacked both arms and skill. But, as they started getting into the wilder regions of the world, the numbers became higher. And regardless of how lacking in skill and proper weapons, enough men could overwhelm her.

Such was the case when Harry lost his innocence only a few months into their journey on the long road of King's Road to Moat Cailin. There had been a dozen of those bastards. Harry had tried to reason with them, offer to buy them food. But, that had proven a mistake. If he had coin to buy all them food, then he would surely have more for them to spend on other things.

Muirgen had done her best to protect him, to keep him safe. But, in the end, Harry had needed to help in his own safety. He put all the lessons he had received at Dragonstone and what she had shown him to good use. His movements were hesitant at first, his body shaking and unsure in its nervousness. But, like with all men, when their lives were on the line, Harry fought with determination to keep living. He had the ferocity of a stag threatened. He bore his horns and charged into so boldly into the fray that he perfectly embodied the words of his house.

Ours is the Fury.

He had killed four that day and needed wine to fall asleep that night. It was a time that Muirgen did not know how to help him. Killing those bandits didn't bother her. For her the choice was simple, they were a threat to her lord and she eradicated it with extreme prejudice. She knew that such actions were inevitable for the life she had chosen. Their blood pooling the dirt and grass, their lives leaving their eyes, did not bother her so long as Harry was safe.

She said such words to him and he was grateful, but said that he did not need it. Those words set her on her heels. Muirgen had expected him to take such things harsher, but Harry just shrugged.

'I did not set out to kill those men. I even offered them a hot meal, but their greed was more important than our lives. There was no pleasure in my taking their lives, but I do take solace that we are still alive and that those men will never be able to hurt anyone again.'

Muirgen was of two minds at his words. She was glad that he was not badly traumatized by such deeds. More so that he did not think her inadequate of her duties since it was her duty to ensure he was protected, not have to protect himself. The other was shocked at his maturity. She had known him intelligent, but any boy could be intelligence and still be childish. But, Harry had handled the matter with grace and poise. The only thing to show that it did effect him was he requested more time on the road be spent practicing.

"I do not believe such things need be mentioned, unless I am specifically asked about it. Though, I do think that while your mother would worry herself, your father would be proud. Lord Stannis is known for his propensity towards justice. What other justice is there for men who would kill others for gold than death?" She finally said, coming out of her memories. He looked like he wanted to argue with her, but instead smiled as if remembering something and nodded at her.

"Aye, as I said before. At least now, they can't hurt anyone anymore." Harry said, slightly forlorn. Muirgen smiled and patted him on the shoulder, glad to be done with such melancholy discussions.

They would land at Dragonstone soon and it would not do for her lord to look so sad at his return to his family.


Lord Stannis had expressed his wish to see her after the feast in honor of his son's return was over. The whole castle and the knights who were sworn to the Lord of Dragonstone had been in attendance. They ate like kings and queens that night, with men far more into their cups than Lord Stannis would have approved of. But, the normally dour men held his tongue because it was a celebration and he was happier than anyone for his wayward heir to finally return home. Well, except for Harry's mother. Lady Selyse was beside herself with joy, rarely passing an opportunity to shower her son in hugs and kisses. She had wanted to hear of all the stories of their travels and Muirgen's lord was not want to deny his mother something so simple. She stood besides Harry as he regaled his mother with their travels, telling her of his favorite sights. He had left the parts of bandits and women out. Because, gods bless him, Harry did not want to break his mother's heart.

It was well into the night when Muirgen had leave to see Lord Stannis. She had escorted Harry to his room, setting aside his clothes for the maids to take in the morning. He thanked her for what seemed like the umpteenth time for doing her duty well on their travels and for the umpteenth time she had told him, he had protected her just as well as she protect him. Muirgen had bid him good evening, promising they would meet in the morning for swords practice.

She had been nervous on her way to meet Harry's father. They had only been at Dragonstone a hand full of months before they set off to explore and she had done her best to avoid Lord Stannis after his argument about her entering Harry's service. Her mind was a whirl at all the reasons he would want to see her. As she calmed her speeding heart, Muirgen knew that there would only be one reason Lord Stannis would want to meet with her.


Muirgen knocked on the door to Lord Stannis' study, one hand on the hilt of her sword. She did not expect any combat, but a lesson she and Harry learned on the road: always expect a fight. A curt, but clear, 'enter' came and she followed as commanded. She marched directly in front of his desk and stood tall, not allowing the instinct to cower in front of him take hold.

"Lord Stannis," she greeted with a bow at her shoulders.

"What happened to my son?" He shot back, forgoing platitudes and going straight for the heart of the matter. There were a million things Muirgen could have said, a million things she wanted to say, but settled on having him expand on his very broad question.

"I do not understand the question," came Muirgen's reply.

"His mother may not see it, but I do. That is not the same boy who left here," Stannis sat down behind his desk, motioning for her to sit across from him. "He's almost a man now, much more a man than I expected him to be after traveling so long with only you as his companion."

She did not believe his words to be a slight, but could not help taking it that way. Still, the only show of it was the narrowing of her eyes.

"He has done like all boy do, Lord Stannis, with or without fathers."

He grunted his agreement before a silence overcame them. Muirgen didn't fidget as Stannis stared, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing the quiet was getting under his skin.

"He has killed men?" The man finally asked.

"Yes, all of them evil men." He nodded thoughtfully at her reply. "I protected him as best I could-"

Stannis snorted, ending her explanation.

"If there was even a question about such matters, you would not be here." He said, as he stood, unable to keep himself still in his chair.

"How many?" There was no doubt as to what he was asking.

"The first time? Four. But, by the time we returned home…if we were in a war, he would be knighted for gallantry and service to the realm."

She had never seen Lord Stannis laugh. Muirgen would have doubted any man, aside Harry, who would have said Stannis did laugh. But, at the moment, he did. It was only a singular giant 'ha!' in pride, but it was something.

The moment was lost just as fast as it came though.

"A knight?" He asked thoughtfully, mostly to himself. "A knight needs a great sword."

"Yes, a great sword and armor. He is almost of the age where he will need it one way or the other."

Stannis pulled parchment, quill, and ink from his desk.

"Can you draw, girl?" Muirgen did her best not to frown at being addressed in such a way. She was one-and-twenty, far too old to be a mere girl. There was also the fact that she had killed men in Harry's service. Muirgen was many things, but she was no mere girl.

"I have an eye enough for detail. But, it will be no means a masterpiece."

Stannis waved away her words, setting the material in front of her.

"Better you than me. The only art I cared to master was of war. You have traveled with my son for four years you will know his preference best. I will tell you want I want, and you will fit it to my son's technique." He said, sitting down to contemplate.

"It something that he could use on foot and horseback." Stannis instructed.

Muirgen drew the beginnings of a longsword, one that her lord could proudly wield in battle. All great swords were like banners. Men would see the weapon and rally to its wielder. She listened to every detail Harry's father had to say, impressed with the level of detail he wanted into Harry's sword. Ultimately, Muirgen knew Harry best and settled for something simpler.

It was to be a longsword of castle-forged steel; blued at the base before transitioning to natural steel color with a diamond ground cross section and a half blade fuller. The guard was a simple and gentle upsweeping piece of hard steel. On the guard itself was the House Baratheon words, 'Ours is the Fury' to be filled in black against the steel background. The hilt was to be made of weirwood carved into a long oval shaped covered with tough blackened hide. The pommel was a circle with a cross in the hollowed center. Around the circle contained the words, 'Duty, Justice, Honor' on both sides.

Muirgen took no small amount of pride that she had come up with that idea.

She finished putting the finishing touches before handing the parchment to Lord Stannis. The stern man looked at the finished product with a keen eye.

"A little plain is it not? You do not believe he would want something a bit...grander?" He asked with a tilt of his head.

"My lord is one of modest taste. His sword should be a symbol, but more functional than anything else."

Stannis took the quill from her and began making notes. When Muirgen looked over, she saw it was notes for the scabbard. He did not draw, but instead neatly scribed instructions. Detailed instructions with rough estimates of weight and materials used for decorations. The hilt was also to be of weirwood and covered in black hide. A polish silver stag head was to be at the center and silver accents were at the opening and tip. Stannis had seemed to take her opinion to heart, as the sheath was handsome, but not extravagant.

When he was finished he thrust the paper at her.

"See it done. Tell the blacksmith I will only accept the best and it was to be ready as soon as possible. Also, he is to make a dagger to match the sword. An exact version, but scaled down to size." He ordered her.

She wanted to point out that she was not one of his house guards, one of the knights loyal to him, or a servant girl. Her loyalties laid elsewhere. But, as the sword was for Harry, Muirgen took the parchment and turned to leave with a nod of her head.

"Snow." Stannis called out, causing her to turn.

"Lord Stannis?"

"We aren't done yet. I still have armor to design and would have your opinion on the matter." He grunted, not at all pleased to be asking her for help. But, Muirgen still smiled. The night was going to be long as she planned out what her lord would wear at tourneys and in battle.