Dark clouds over Storm's End

Combing her flowing, black hair, Fiona Toyne-Baratheon peered through a window atop the mighty tower of Storm’s End and watched her husband drill his loyal men-at-arms in their daily routine. Canice sat gallantly on his dark and trusted steed Gaoth as he barked orders to his men and he waived his Valyrian blade Tempest around as if it were a baton. The Storm Guard was truly blessed with such an exemplary Knight as their Captain.

A cool voice from behind startled Fiona, and she dropped her antler comb. “Fiona child, what draws your attention outdoors?”

Her mother, Keira Toyne, had paid her an unwelcome visit yet again. She sighed, “Just my noble husband drilling his men far below in the courtyard. I often watch them while I comb my hair.”

Keira approached her daughter, gently petting her long locks of dazzling black hair. “It looks rather lovely today.”

Fiona politely shoved away her mother’s hand. “What did you come here for mother? I am afraid I am terribly busy. You know I shall be Lady of Storm’s End very soon.” She smiled wickedly as she walked to a chest full of clothing.

“Only temporarily my dear, which is terribly unfortunate. I think it was wise of my brother to keep Canice here while he and the rest travel north to Queenscrown.” Keira took a seat on one of Fiona’s comfy cushioned chairs. Canice provided her daughter with many luxuries, which delighted both mother and daughter.

“No doubt that was Rhoswen’s ingenious decision. She knows that bringing Canice north would draw attention away from her. My husband is the gem of House Baratheon, and Rhoswen knows this. Canice can certainly put his bratty sister in her place.”

Keira sneered upon hearing the mention of her bratty niece. “Although you and Canice shan’t be going north, you both have been left with a great responsibility- the stewards of Storm’s End.” Her dark, stormy eyes danced wildly as machinations tumbled around in her mind. “We have much to accomplish with the absence of my brother and his dimwitted sons.” She laughed, “And thank the Old Gods! That Targaryen serpent and her spawn will be riding with them.”

“So you shall not ride north with rest of the family?” Fiona asked, rummaging through her many dresses.

“No,” Keira replied. “I’ve much to do here at Storm’s End. And Minas asked me to stay, to watch over you and Canice.” Of course the Lord of Storm’s End had no realization of his sister’s schemes. “I also have business at Felwood.”

“Veleda?” Fiona looked surprised. She knew her mother often visited the fabled Witch of Felwood. She did not approve of her mother associating with the feared and scorned sorceress, for if their relationship was discovered Fiona’s position at Storm’s End could be in jeopardy. “What business have you with that vile Witch?”

“A personal matter, my child.” Keira retorted, “And watch your tone. Veleda’s a powerful asset to our cause. Perhaps one day, you shall journey with me into the depths of the Felwood. Veleda certainly wishes to meet you.”

Fiona wrinkled her nose, “I would never do such a thing. I leave the dark scheming to you mother. Do not involve me in your tinkering with the mystical.”

Keira laughed, “The spiritual forces of these stormy woods are greater and more ominous than even you realize. If we can only tame those powers Fiona, the Stormlands, nay all of Westeros, would be ours.”

Fiona shook her head, “Careful mother. You play a dangerous game.”

“I know my dear child,” she smiled devilishly, “and I shall win. One day.”

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Ours is the Fury

Canice Baratheon peered through an embrasure that overlooked the main gate leading out of Storm’s End. Keira Toyne, his mother-in-law and Aunt, rode off with a hunting party, their destination unknown to Canice. With the absence of his father, and the departure of most of the family to Queenscrown for the tourney, Canice was named steward of Storm’ End and was charged with its keep.

It had been quiet thus far, and now with the departure of his meddlesome Aunt, he could really enjoy some peace and quiet. Still, he was curious of Keira’s whereabouts. Long had he warned his aging father of his sister’s probable machinations, but Minas was too proud and complacent to see her as treacherous.

The rustle of a woman’s dress disturbed his watching, and he turned to find his wife gliding through the room. He acknowledged her with a faint smile. “What would your mother be doing, riding with Ser Wensington and his hunting party? They left just now, I believe to hunt boars east of Mistwood.”

Fiona busied herself with tending to cups leftover from the previous night’s revelries. There were always parties, if Canice had any say. “She enjoys the hunt,” his wife replied. “Why are you curious of my mother’s whereabouts?” Fiona wondered if he suspected something.

Canice shrugged, “I did not know she and Glynn Wensington were acquaintances, nor did I suspect a woman of her age and position to accompany young Knights on a boar hunt.”

Fiona smiled, “I know as much as you, my Lord. Only that she rides south to accompany the huntsmen near Mistwood.”

Canice quietly approached her. He gently touched her shoulder, and Fiona immediately turned to him obviously seeking affection. Suddenly and with a strong hand, he held his wife tightly by her soft cheeks. He glared at her with dark and cloudy eyes.

Startled, she tried to recoil but he held her close. “Canice,” she whimpered, “please let go. You’re hurting me, my Lord.”

“Oh?” was his reply. He tightened his grip even further, “I know when you are lying Fiona.” He then released her abruptly, “And I absolutely hate it when my wife lies to me.”

“Fine,” she grunted as she continued with her cleaning. “My mother has business in Felwood.”

“Felwood?” Canice raised a brow. “What manner of business could a Lady of Toyne, and sister to Lord Baratheon, have in the Felwood. Has an appointment with the House of Fell does she?” Canice’s tone turned unpleasant, “Or is she paying a visit to that perfidious witch who dwells in those dark woods and plagues our great Stormlands with her very presence.”

Fiona, though worried by her husband’s inquiries, replied calmly, “I know not my Lord. She did not reveal the nature of her visit. Mother only said it was business of a personal matter.”

“Very well,” Canice nodded. He could see his wife spoke the truth. He raised a finger towards Fiona, “Though I am warning you, and especially your conniving mother. The Witch of Felwood is dangerous, and her treachery has even reached within the walls of Storm’s End. If you are kin of my father, and claim yourselves Baratheons, then you will both do well to stay clear of that contemptible sorceress.”

Fiona answered swiftly, “I am no friend of that witch Canice. I swear to you, I have never visited the Felwood.” She cleared her throat, “What business my mother has with the witch I do not know.”

“You speak partial truth,” Canice glared at her. “But I see no need in prying information from you that you do not wish to divulge to me freely. You disappoint me Fiona, I hope you know that.” He prepared to leave the room, but turned before exiting through the door, “Know this wife. I shall be keeping an eye on your mother, and will report her little expedition when Father returns.” Though Canice doubted if the old man would even care.

“I understand, my Lord,” she bowed her head and then continued with her work. Canice departed, leaving Fiona to fret and doubt. Her mother was playing a very dangerous game, and Fiona was becoming an unwilling participant.

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Ours is the Fury