Kings and Queens/Fenton I

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Fenton

His hands ached, but he had to continue scribing, he had no time to stop. Sign. Fold. Stamp. Repeat. That's what High Commander Fenton had been doing for the past hour and a half. The Brotherhood of Arms needed more boys, men, toddlers - they would honestly take any, as long as they were of the male variety. Sign. Fold. Stamp. Repeat. He let out a sigh of annoyance. This was one of the less entertaining jobs of being in-charge of a Brotherhood, tedious but it had to be done. There were entertaining jobs, however, for example, last night he held a fantastic feast to bid farewell to High Brothers Sirius and Fyr of House Messer, who left early in the morning for their niece's wedding. The two brothers, who were blood-related, were looking forward to taking the time away. They had earned it, according to Old High Commander Hunder.

Fenton was promoted only five days ago, three days after Hunder retired, wanting something less "tiring". Fenton was only beginning to understand how tiring it was to be in-charge. The Brotherhood was currently sitting on six hundred and thirty seven members. One hundred and twenty were High Brothers, including the Messer's. Five hundred and fourteen were all Brothers, and the rest were all squires, kitchen staff and custodians, all aiming to gain a position as a Brother. The Brotherhood's homebase was Mount Buffalo, a fantastic small village, sitting on a large, big top mountain. Sign. Fold. Stamp. Repeat. Fenton decided to take a few minutes of rest, before calling for his own squire. Stretching his fingers, he tilted his head up to have a look outside.
It was always quite icy in Mount Buffalo, no matter how long the sun would stay out of its hiding place, the ice would never disappear. Fenton could see his brothers now, a few were crafting new, practice swords, some were shifting rubble from the recent downfall, and some were training. There had recently been a big downfall, fortunately no Brothers were hurt, but it was quite long, lasting for several hours. Mount Buffalo was prone to downfalls, however, so no one was bothered by it.

Fenton poured himself a goblet of hot wine and called for his squire. The boy arrived a minute after being called. He shuffled in, quickly. Little Brother Ainsley was his official title. Ainsley was of the Summer Isles descendant, hailing from Ruberon, a beautiful city known for its rubies. His skin had been blessed by the sun, much like his ancestors, and his baby blue eyes were the best of all of his own features. For a boy of three and one, he was certainly a looker. Fenton always pestered him to get his black hair cut, with it being so long and covering both his eyes, yet Ainsley never did so.
"Ah, Ainsley, my boy. Be a good 'un and take these to the owlery, they need to be sent right away."

"Yes, High Commander. Ser Hugo has requested your presence in the Watchtower - it sounded quite urgent."
"Very well, I'll be there momentarily. Once you have sent those owls, I would be quite pleased if you went and gathered some more wood from the supply for my fire." Ainsley nodded, accepting his orders, gathered the letters and walked out of Fenton's office.

Fenton stood himself up, using the table to support him as he stood. His back had been aching since his zero and two name day. According to Maesters, his bones were quite fragile, and would cause him pain in the cold air. But his back aches did not stop him. He pushed through every single one. Fenton walked over to a small oval looking glass, nailed to the wall. He ran a few fingers through his light black, shaggy medium hair. His green eyes were tight with sleep deprivation. Fenton licked his lips and began heading for the Watchtower.
As he left the small cabin where his office and own bedchambers was situated, he took in his surroundings. There were four main buildings in the courtyard; the Barracks, Supply Room, Great Hall and the Watchtower. The Barracks was four stories high, and housed all the Brothers, alongside the recruits and other men of the Brotherhood. Those who were of high authority, like Ser Hugo, himself and Deputy Commander Roth, had their own cabins, placed all over the vicinity of Mount Buffalo. The Supply Room held all of the food, water, other substances and basic training weapons. The Great Hall was used for meals and meetings of the Brothers, alongside guest meetings. The Watchtower, in Fenton's opinion, was the most important building in the whole of Mount Buffalo. It stood the highest building in all of the Mountain, and it is where the Brotherhood watched over Arms Guardhouse, a prison-like piece of land, owned by the Brotherhood. It was where the Brothers held prisoners who convicted crimes from other lands. They were a whole sort of variety in the prison; from pirates, to those who supported the Old Royal family, to those who murdered and did other monstrous things. The Watchtower was always active, Brothers were either sitting, looking for activity, or were updating records on current prisoners.

As he approached the Watchtower, two of the guards on duty, Brothers Evan and Tern, nodded to their High Commander. Fenton nodded curtly back to them, and began his ascent up the Watchtower. On the fifth floor, he paused to watch a bird, a small willow sparrow blue and green in colour, fly past the window. He smiled at the wild bird. Mount Buffalo was prone to wildlife; some were beautiful, but some were truly ugly in sight and colour. Fenton continued to climb up the stairs. He finally reached the top of the tower, huffing and slightly puffing. *I'm getting too old for all these damned stairs*, he thought to himself, smugly. It was true, he was getting too old for steps.
He entered the watch room, and was greeted by five High Brothers, including Ser Hugo. Another one was a Ser, Ser Oscar Laurel, the uncle to Brando Laurel. He too was getting quite old, yet you wouldn't think he was that old. He was approaching his zero and seventh name day, but that didn't stop him from being eager to train with the younger brothers. The three High Brothers in his presence were High Brothers Phoenix, Darius and Zander. Zander was recently promoted, having been born in the Kirkings, a noble, highborn family. Unfortunately, he was the second born son to Lord Thor Kirking, so he was stripped of his rights, and sent to the Brotherhood. That was only five years ago. Zander used his good looks to climb up the ladder to a High Brother. Now he was a leader of a group of ten Brothers. All five nodded to their High Commander, and all were in that stance, the stance that soldiers and knights would make to a King. Fenton waved a hand, indicating to them to return to normal stature. All obeyed, thankfully.

"Ainsley told me this was of high urgency, Ser Hugo. He better be right. I have many more letters to respond to." Fenton spoke slowly, with a tone of authority. It was probably one of the other reasons as to why he was appointed High Commander.
Ser Hugo nodded. "The boy has the right of it, Your Highness. We found a boat and a pirate who spoke of quite strong things. He appeared in the village of Doune. One of the villagers sent word to us, and we collected him."

Fenton rolled his eyes. Pirates were always menacing. Almost half of the prisoners in the Arms were pirates - men and women alike. Why must they waste his time on waywards like pirates?
"We always have pirates in Doune. Send him to the Arms and have your men search his ship. Let me know of your findings." Fenton turned to go.

"No, but Your Highness, the things he spoke of... he said something about a conspiracy. A conspiracy of the throne." High Brother Zander spoke loudly, as always. Fenton turned around and looked at Ser Hugo. He nodded, acknowledging that Zander was speaking the truth.
"Where is this pirate now?"

"We have him held in a small bunk room, on the fourth floor, Your Highness. He has a great thirst for our spring water." Ser Hugo replied, anxiously.
"Ser Hugo, guide me to him. I shall hear what this pirate has to say to us."

Ser Hugo nodded, and joined Fenton as he began his journey to the fourth floor bunk room. This pirate had worried Fenton, truth be told. Sure, pirates spoke a lot of folly, but this was the first pirate who had spoken of anything about a conspiracy. Fenton truly wanted to know more about this pirate. Ser Hugo spoke to Fenton as they descended the steps.
"He dresses quite nicely for a pirate, Your Highness. Carried a good, felt scabbard and a serpent-tinted dagger. His clothes are made of the best feeling silk I've ever felt. As for his ship, well it's quite the keeper. He mans it himself - according to him, anyway. Had a few journals, mostly about his journey, couple personal. Quite a few barrels of expensive looking wine, was probably planning on smuggling it somewhere. As for him... well, Your Highness, he's quite young for a pirate. Looks to be nine and one, maybe a year older or younger."

Fenton nodded as he listened, taking in Ser Hugo's report on the pirate. He sounded just like a pirate, but pirates normally tended to wear ruffled clothwear. What made this pirate so special that he was allowed to don expensive smallclothes and scabbard and dagger?
They arrived in the room where the pirate was being held. Fenton sucked in his breath. *Dresses nicely, indeed*. The pirate was certainly nice to look at. A slender body, thick, blonde hair, and the boldest of blue eyes Fenton had ever seen. A small, clear scar was noticeable through the sunlight. If the sun hadn't shown on it, Fenton would have never noticed it. He could have done with a shave, but Fenton wouldn't allow him that. *I won't allow him to piss, let alone have a shave. I want to know what he knows*. The pirate stood to welcome his new arrival, but was pulled back onto the chair by a recruit who was guarding him. The pirate shrugged his shoulders and crossed his legs, left a top right. He smirked up to Fenton.

"Are you, perchance, the one in charge of this lovely brotherhood?" The pirate spoke with a voice from Fantasica, yet there was a hint of southron in his voice.
"I am High Commander Magnus Fenton of the Brotherhood of Arms. I am in command here, and I have your life in my very own hands right now, so careful. *Pirate*." Fenton hoped to intimidate him, yet he had a sly feeling that the pirate was finding this all very amusing.

Well, High Commander Magnus Fenton, you have your facts wrong. I am not a pirate. I like to think of myself as one who can, ah, let's just say, acquires the hardest to find pleasantries we require to enjoy our lives." He replied, casually.
"Alright then, *Acquirer*. Do you have a name?"

"Admiral Franco Starburn. Well, I'm a former Admiral. Was thrown out of my fleet several months ago. I wouldn't have it any other way, alas, if I was not thrown out of my fleet, I would not know of this quite shivering conspiracy." Franco replied humourously.
Fenton nodded. He knew of his surname. Starburn was given to those who had it in them to lead, Porter was given to those who had it in them to serve. Franco was an Admiral for the Great Fleet of Mahkari. *Quite an achievement for one so young*, Fenton thought to himself.
"Ser Hugo told me of this conspiracy, I must tell you now that there is no such thing. Why would one conspire against King Maurice Winchester? He has been the greatest king since King Mondrew, the former King's father."

The Admiral sniggered. "Who said they were conspiring *against* the throne? I'm talking about a conspiracy *for* the throne. And it has nothing to do with the current Royal families, the Warrior Winchesters."
Ser Hugo shifted slightly. Fenton clenched both his thists. *He's going to utter their words*.

""Humans with Venom."" Franco spoke, ever so quietly. His words brought silence into the small bunk room in the Watchtower of the Brotherhood of Arms.

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