A New City
The suns rays entered the room through the window without curtains shining upon the face of the young boy who laid within. He was deep in sleep, his eyes darting about beneath his eyelids, yet his body remained still. Unmoving, having been taken by his dreams. A cold sweat covered him causing the bed sheets to stick to his legs, arms and torso.
His eyes opened wide soon being followed by his mouth which breathed out a heavy gasp. His head leaving his pillow Derren jolted up into a seated position before giving his head a shake to get rid of the drowsiness.
Immediately feeling his drapes stuck onto himself, he moved to pull them off. They were wet he saw. He leapt out onto the floorboards, fearing the worst. He hadn't soiled himself in years, not since he was just a babe and to do so now at his age was the definition of shameful he thought.
Fortunately for his honour and pride he quickly realised that such an act had not occurred. If he had then there would only be a singular spot of dampness unlike the wet outline there instead was. Imprinted on the bedside was a perfect image of his body, from his head to his heels.
'I guess I had sweated in the night more than usual? he mumbled inwardly. Still he couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it than just that. The boy had stayed here for over a fortnight and while the weather this far south was indeed much warmer than Winterfell, he had believed himself to be used to it by now.
There had to be something he was missing… but what? Closing his eyes and shutting off his sight he tried to recall what he had dreamt but he could remember nothing, the most it did was give him the urge to look outwards through the window. Over the city walls were forests and plains and small buildings but nothing else of note. When he first arrived here the view had astounded him and for the first week he spent his days longing for the evenings where he could look out and see the sun setting over the somewhat distant forests in the horizon. Now however, he had grown used to it, able to appreciate its beauty but no longer feeling the excitement he once did.
When they had come to King's Landing its imposing sight was able to distract him from his worries and concerns. Tall wall surrounded the city which itself laid on top of three large hills. The infamous Red Keep could be seen still, towering over everything else being by far the biggest castle the boy had ever seen.
Then once the party entered through the gate he had been welcomed by new sights of interest; the differently styled buildings and clothes, the thousands of people who welcomed them, bringing with them the smell of fish. And finally, there was the sea, White Harbour paled in comparison. Along its shores there being inns and boats by the dozen.
He was staying at the Purple Inn on Eel Alley, named after the Princess Viserra Targaryen who had visited one night nearly two-hundred years ago, according to the innkeeper. He had told Derren of the story behind the inn's name on his second night, the tale was well-known in the city and he was excited to finally be able to tell it to someone new.
The princess had come to this inn the night before she was be sent to wed Theomore Manderly. Viserra and her companions had entered in drunken and rowdy, full of laughs. The owner of the establishment at the time had been become smitten with her as soon as he had laid eyes on her, despite him being more than twice the young girls age.
His love was cut short however, the very next morning word came down from the Keep that she had fallen off her horse and died whist making her way back to the castle. Feeling responsible for her death, the man gave the buildings deeds to his brother before taking his own life, by way of the rope. From then on, the brother named the inn Purple, after the colour of Viserra's eyes, in memory of both his sibling and the Princess.
The rest of his family slept up on the highest hill inside the Red Keep. His father had offered the same for him but Derren knew better. There was no place for him there, he was a bastard and would never gain any status in court and Derren knew how he and his father would be spoken of away from their ears. He could tolerate insults to himself but never to his great father.
Instead he asked to be allowed to stay at a cheap inn or tavern, though in the end his father had arranged for one of the best in King's Landing, not that Derren would complain.
Derren's heart tightened in his chest. 'Why am I here?' he thought. For so long of his life he had dreamed of coming here and now that he was all he could feel was loneliness. His brothers were far away, his sisters and father were close, but he couldn't see them, and he was separated from Rain.
After letting out a sigh, Derren put his thoughts to the back of his mind, he wasn't one to dwell on things he couldn't change.
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After getting some breakfast consisting of bread and porridge, both lightly seasoned, he started to make his way out of the building. Another one of Derren's requests that he made of his father was a place of work.
Being the son of Eddard Stark, Derren had of course received numerous offers from many lords and knights, wanting him or his brother to be their ward or squire, despite his status yet his father had rejected them all, not wanting to send his sons away from home for the benefit of others.
However, now that they were already far from Winterfell, there was no longer any reason keep refusing, although that didn't just mean that his father would accept just anyone. Fortunately, they were in the Capital, surrounded by some of the best knights the kingdom had to offer.
All Derren had to do now was wait and in the meantime, it had been arranged for him to work under a blacksmith named Tobho Mott on the Street of Steel; which he was now on his way to.
The city pathways were always packed and making it through them could often be a difficult, especially for a young boy. After twenty minutes of walking Derren arrived at the smithy, a two-story tall house made of timber and plaster with double open doors.
Inside, Derren could see a young serving girl who made her way over to him as soon as he was noticed. "How may I help you," she asked courteously after giving him a once over. The girl was older than him, but her slim figure stood an inch shorter with dark brown hair and eyes. Her skin was pale yet had an olive tint to it and coupled with her pretty face she gave off an aura of softness.
"Yes, my name is Derren. I was told to …".
"Your late!" an imposing voice interrupted, making Derren jump much to the amusement of the girl who was unaffected. The man walked out and gestured for the girl to step aside. He wore a black velvet coat with hammers embroidered with silver thread on the sleeves. Around his neck hung a silver chain looking heavy and a sapphire as large as a pigeon egg.
Guessing his identity Derren spoke back respectfully, "I had been informed to arrive by the ninth ring of the bell tower."
"That's too late! From now on you will arrive before the fifth," he stated, "My name is Tobho Mott but you will refer to me as master at all times. I am being paid to teach you the craft however it would do you well to remember the incompetent cannot be taught. Today you will watch and nothing else, is that clear?"
"Yes master."
"Good. Now step inside and wait for my call," Tobho said before turning around, walking to his table and picking up some papers.