KING'S LANDING 

After the incident, they embalmed and wrapped Jin in cloth. During the seven days of preparation to transition his soul to the afterlife, Jade sat beside his body like a dutiful wife waiting for her husband to return from war, yet Jin would never return to her.

Jade's screams still rang in Hira's ears. In her nightmares they were present. Jin's blooded mouth begging to return home. His limp hand falling to the ground when his heart stopped beating.

They couldn't save him, the wound was too fatal. They had no time. Hira wasted it by crying. She could never forgive herself for not being there for him, for not protecting him. Every part of her blamed herself.

What was worse is that they didn't know who the culprit was. In the confusion, someone had snuck up and slain Jin, too fast to take notice or raise his sword in defence. Her strong defender taken down by a single blow from a shadow.

"The Dark Other has taken a life from us." Emica spoke softly, beginning the sermon in Lengii.

Held outside King's Landing, everyone in Hira's household gathered to send Jin's soul to the other realm. Dressed in white as per tradition. Death was always meant to be a celebration of life in her culture, yet when one's life was cut short, how can Hira celebrate? Jin had more years to live, more days to spend with Jade, more jests to make and wine to drink. He wanted to go home.

"Jin was the light that shone when darkness surrounded us. He was our joy, our peace, our love. He was a Sapphire Guard who upheld duty above all. He was a brother, a son, an uncle, a friend and a lover. He was ours and we were his family. Let us not mourn his death but find richness in the life he lived, one filled with laughter and courage, for he taught us how to live a life best. Jin, our friend, we pray your soul passes the tunnels of the Old Ones. That judgement finds you pure and good, and into the arms of our ancestors. Blessed Old Ones, take his soul into your arms and accept his embrace, so he passes to his ancestors and sits in his rightful place."

"Blessed Old Ones, take his soul into your arms and accept his embrace, so he passes to his ancestors and sits in his rightful place." Hira repeated in a firm voice.

If you are listening, heed me now. Hira warned the gods. Jin's soul shall pass, or a Han will be the first to turn you away.

Jade began the dance that led his soul to the other realm. Shouta banged on the drums as Raki sang in his haunting voice. Jade's movements were slow, as if she was a fawn learning to walk. She danced alone, which pained Hira more than it should. Usually it would be sisters and mothers and lovers who danced for the departing soul, yet Jade pleaded and how could she say no?

Her arms swayed and her body dipped low and high, her eyes shut closed as she guided Jin one last time. The drums slowed its pacing, Raki's voice drifted off yet Jade continued the dance. In utter silence that screamed so loud, Jade drifted around Jin's body, unable to stop, because if she did, it would be the last moment she'd have with him.

A tear leaked from Hira's eye, running down her cheek. Ming gripped her hand, with Linh following suit.

Hira thought Laena's death hurt and it did, but this was far more unbearable. She was a lost ship searching for a lighthouse, with a storm that threatened to drown her, sink its fingers deep into her flesh and ruin her. She wanted to shout. She wanted to wrong who had wronged her. She wanted Jin to die as an old man surrounded by his grandchildren. She wanted and wanted but it was all for not. No amount of prayers will bring him back, no matter how hard she tried to bargain with the Old Ones.

If Jade wished to dance for an hour or until the sun left and the night greeted them, Hira would stay to watch her, they all would. Jin was their family and he loved Jade with every fibre of his being. They would stay for however long she needed.

A sob broke out of the YiTish girl and Jade collapsed onto the ground.

"It is done." She cried out, the first words she's spoken since Jin's passing. 

It's their custom to burn their dead, so the fumes are lifted with the spirit.

Hira stumbled to Jade and knelt beside her. "It is done." She whispered, embracing her friend.

Louder, she called out. "Dracarys."

Zhurong, who watched his rider cry with sorrowful eyes, opened his mouth and out came flames that cloaked Jin's body in red and orange.

The sobbing never ceased from Jade, so Hira stroked her hair, watching Jin's body burn until it was nothing but ash.

"Thank you." She heard from Jade, her voice painfully hoarse. "For allowing me to lead the dance."

"You have more of a right to it than I do." She replied.

"Have they found the one who did this?"

Hira sighed in defeat, shaking her head. "No. But you will have your justice, I shall carry it out myself. Jin will not have died for nothing."

Following the steps of River Gate, Hira found herself back at the ports where Jin died. The cobbled floor where she held his hand as he bled to death. When he stopped mid sentence because his heart had given in. What were his last words to Jade? Hira would die believing they were I love you, everyone with eyes knew he loved her when his last breath was stolen.

[ x ]

Hira's eyes trailed over the street, passing men loading their ships and people minding about without a care in the world.

As if her guard hadn't died here seven days ago.

She recalled the crowd, but not their faces. Much of it was blurry, uncertain. She had asked the King to investigate and he vowed that he would find the murderer, yet truly what can the King do when it was Otto Hightower who ruled in his stead?

Over the barrels of fish, Hira sighted a familiar young girl with yellowed hair. She waved.

Looking behind her to find no one of importance, Hira strolled towards the child she met moons ago. Even when she visited the markets, she never saw this child again.

"Strange lady dressed in strange clothes." She affirmed.

"You've grown." Hira replied.

"You're sad."

She nodded. "My friend was murdered. We held his funeral today."

"The tanned man with the long face. It took a day to clear his blood from the street."

Hira frowned, "You know something I don't."

The girl grinned widely, holding her hand out. "M'friend wants to meet m'lady Hira."

Hira commanded her guards to return to the Keep, leaving her with no protection besides the concealed daggers and sword she carried. She learnt from her mistake. Shouta wasted no time arguing with her. Hate her all he wanted, he was ordered to obey.

"Lead on then." She ignored the child's hand, unwilling to trust her yet.

The child simply shrugged and dashed away, Hira picking up her pace.

"Your name? You appear to know mine and I know I didn't give it freely."

"M'friend knows all about you."

"And your friend, do they want me dead?"

"The opposite! Come see, come see."

The girl led her down alleyways and corners, until a manse came into view. Entering a large room filled with exquisite furniture, Hira sat herself on the plush sofa. The girl darted away, jumping over the balcony fence, much like a monkey from the Leng forests.

"Daemon's eldest daughter, as I live and breathe." A thick garish accent called out.

A tall beautiful woman with Leng descent came into the room. Her long neck and thin face had the markings of a Lengii woman, even her eyes were a clear mark, yet the accent - that wasn't Lengii at all, it was a mixture of something Essosi that Hira couldn't place. She wore grey with a chain across her neck. Upon closer inspection, the chain was obsidian, much like the dragon ring gifted by Daemon.

Hira rolled her eyes, already making her way out the room. "If you seek Daemon, you've asked the wrong person."

"I know who murdered your guard."

Hira stopped in her tracks. Slowly turning around her, she withdrew her dagger and pointed it at the woman.

"Speak. Let it be the truth, for I tire of games."

"So quick to brandish your blade. Daemon made flesh is what they should call you."

"They can call me whatever they want, I don't give a shit." She hissed. "What do you know of Jin?"

"Poor soul." The woman mused emphatically. Her accent grated Hira. "Gone too soon. I hear the guiding of the soul was painful for your Lady Jade."

Taking two large steps, Hira held the dagger across the woman's throat. "I am not a cyvasse board game you think you can play with at my expense. Plenty of people have angered me this week. Speak plainly."

"The crown will not reveal your murderer, it's in their best interest not to expose him." She smirked, pushing the blade away with a finger. "My name is Mysaria, though I am more known as the White Worm."

"Mysaria." Hira repeated. "What about the crown?"

"The beacon on the Hightower, do you know what colour it glows when Oldtown calls its banner to war?" Mysaria questioned.

"I don't give a fuck." Hira's patience was dwindling.

"Green. Do you know what colour was found on the streets of Rivers Gate, as your blue guard died with blood in his mouth?"

Wide-eyed Hira answered. "Green. Are you accusing a Hightower of murdering Jin?"

"Am I?" Mysaria smiled coyly.

"The name." She demanded.

"Lyonel Hightower."

The Hand's nephew's son. Aemond's cousin.

She's seen him in the training yards. A self assured bastard with the backing of his family's ties to the crown. No wonder they would keep it secret from her. Did Viserys know then? Had he kept this from her, or was he in the shadows to this too?

Mysaria gleefully took note of the anger bubbling in Daemon's daughter. It's been years since she's seen a dragon so wild and tempered.

Writing on a scroll, she passed it to Hira. "These men frequent the ports."

Hira knew information, even one that was treason owed a heavy price. She eyed Mysaria warily. "What do you wish for in return?"

Mysaria brushed a piece of Hira's dark hair behind her ear. "Nothing."

"Lies."

"Meeting Daemon's precious firstborn is enough payment. Were this a different life, perhaps you would've been my child."

Hira smacked her hand away. "Whatever obsession you have with Daemon best leave it in the past."

The White Worm laughed coldly, shooing her away. Hira sent the woman of Daemon's past one last looming glance before departing the manse.

At the ports she found the men written on the scroll. Passing coins to three Braavosi traders they admitted to seeing a man bearing the sigil of a white tower crowned with flames.

"He stabbed him, he did. Straight through the flesh. Saw the sword sticking out from his back." Orbelo answered, a man of short stature with a thick beard.

"Do you know why?"

He shook his head.

"And you?" She questioned Quill, who had green dyed hair and a gold tooth.

"Thought nothing of it, m'lady. There's always a fist fight round of these parts. People are unhappy. People are poor."

"You witnessed the fight, yes or no?"

"I did." He nodded, "Saw the man aim straight for that Lengii lad. He didn't even put up a fight, lad didn't have the chance to before he was skewed."

Tomor, a bulky man with a hunchback pipped. "The tall one, tanned skin, he was makin' sure the women were well looked after. Up came this lad, waving his sword around like a right cunt then bam! Shoved his sword in 'ih."

Hira's jaw clenched. "What did the man look like?"

"Not a flying clue m'lady." Tomor admitted.

Orbelo interjected. "He had brown hair. Greasy looking."

"Would you bear witness to this in front of the king?"

They were cautious. Hira bargained, pressing a pouch of coins into each of their hands. They readily agreed.

Her return to the Red Keep was done in haste, needing to seek an audience with Viserys and him alone. Hira knows the Hightowers would try to influence his decisions.

At Maegor's Holdfast she learns of her uncle's whereabouts. Of all days the king decided to hold court that moment.

She thought fast. A public display would surely be a scene. Accusing a noble lord is one thing, but to put the queen's nephew on stand for murder, with the Hightower's in his corner. It could go either way, even with the witnesses she acquired.

Jade's tearful face looms in the back of her mind. Jin's body, burnt by Zhurong's flames. Her lady hadn't eaten or slept since.

She gathered her anger, letting it fuel her until there was nothing left but only that.

If the Hightower's have each other's support, then so will she. Hira collected all three of her guards, her ladies joining.

Jade was a ghost. Pale faced with dark black circles under her eyes. Linh and Ming hold each of her hands. Shouta raised a brow at the Braavosi men, but otherwise said nothing.

As the last smallfolk made their requests, Hira stepped up to the stand.

Viserys was dying. He was a walking living corpse who holds onto a life that's frayed at the edges. His hands clenched the very chair that cut him.

Otto Hightower and his daughter stand left of the king. His calculating eye has watched over her ever since she walked into the hall, remaining stoic faced. The ever present frown is on Alicent's mouth, the lines of her forehead wrinkled.

"Your Grace." Hira began in a steady voice. "I wish to speak on the matters of the death of my Sapphire Guard Jin Huang."

Viserys straightened in his seat, far more alert than before. "Speak, niece. I shall hear your matter."

The Iron Throne was an ugly thing. The melted swords were a gaudy display. Hira wondered how many deaths it took to conquer the kingdoms. How many bodies have Targaryen Kings walked over to claim themselves as rulers of Westeros?

"I have evidence to believe Lyonel Hightower murdered my guard."

Gasps spread across the hall. Viserys was wide eyed.

"That is a vile accusation." Otto spoke sharply.

Viserys asked, "What evidence?"

Hira brought forth the men from the ports. As they gave their account, she watched the Hightowers' faces, waiting for something, anything to give them away.

Alicent fiddled with her hands. Hira recalled Aemond's words, how his mother picked at her skin when ridden with anxiety. Otto's eyes hardened and narrowed into slits as he glowered at the men.

The king grew worried as each account was given. From her view she spied a bead of sweat trailing down his forehead. "Where is Ser Lyonel? Call for him this instant."

"Your Grace, is this necessary? How can we trust these men?" Alicent intervened.

"We shall wait for Ser Lyonel's account." Viserys snapped.

The hall remained silent until Jin's murderer walked into the throne room, his gaunt confident and assured. On his chest plate was the sigil of House Hightower. Hira wanted to wipe the smirk off his face with her dagger.

"You stand accused of murder, Ser Lyonel. A week ago on the streets of Rivers Gate, witnesses have told the court that you killed Princess Hira's guard. How do you plead?"

The weasel laughed, throwing Hira a mocking glance, "Your Grace, this is absurd."

"Where were you that afternoon?" Viserys questioned sternly. 

"I was visiting a tavern. I heard a riot broke out along the Street of Flour. As my duty as a knight of the realm, I sought to protect the citizens."

"And whilst you were protecting the people, did you find yourself at Rivers Gate?"

"I..." Lyonel hesitated. "I did, Your Grace. I will not lie, I followed the crowd and mayhem of that day. I don't recall much, you see, I had much to drink."

Viserys gestured to the Braavosi men. "These men claim you stabbed Princess Hira's guard. Is this the man you saw commit the act?"

The men nodded.

"Did you murder him, Ser Lyonel?" Viserys asks tightly.

"Your Grace!" He stuttered. "This so-called guard was suspicious looking. How was I to know he was someone of importance? The princess wasn't even there! For all I knew, he could've started the riot."

"He wore my standard." Hira snapped, stepping towards Lyonel. "Jin wore the Han sigil. He wasn't Westerosi. He was with a Kingsguard and Princess Helaena. Your stupid brain couldn't comprehend this because of the ale, or were you looking to shed Lengii blood that day?"

"I was defending the people against a savage! Are we to trust these foreigners that live on our soil?" He retaliated. "I was well within my right to defend myself!"

"Jin barely had the chance to withdraw his sword before you killed him in cold blood." She spat, the embers of her rage growing strong. "Your reason is unjustified. You spew in your hatred because we look different. Speak differently."

Each word she stalked closer to the murderer. Lyonel's hand inched towards his sword. "We are born the same way, bleed the same blood when cut, are we not inherently the same? Yet you entitle yourselves to our deaths simply due to suspicion?"

She turned to Viserys who held his head in his hands.

"An accident, Your Grace." Alicent called out, attempting to defuse the mutterings of the hall. "Lyonel had not known."

Hira didn't bother to hide her scoff of disgust. "An accident? Jin was murdered by his hand, Your Grace. He admitted it!"

"I have heard enough. Ser Lyonel is hereby stripped of his rank and title." Viserys declared, harshly breathing as a cough overtook him. "For the murder of the princess' guard."

"Your Grace, I adhere to rethink." Otto immediately said. "He is set to inherit Oldtown. Surely this can be dealt with another way."

Hira stilled, clenching her fists lest she withdraw her dagger and slit the son of a whore's throat herself.

"Disinheritance?" Hira seethed in disbelief. "Where is justice in that?"

"Your Grace, I beg of you." Lyonel cried.

"Your king has decided."

Hira withdraw the dagger from her sleeve, having enough of this injustice. She claimed restraint a second ago, but no more.

"A Han is owed a debt, a life for a life. What good is stripping this murderer of lands and titles?" She said in a cold voice. She lifted the dagger to Lyonel's face. "I will have my justice. I will have Lyonel Hightower's head."

Swords were drawn from both sides.

Viserys hastily stood up from the throne. His cold clammy hands pushed Hira's dagger downwards once he descended from the steps.

"He is Lord's Ormund's son, heir to the seat of Oldtown." He croaked. "Shelve your blade, now."

"I am your brother's firstborn." She quarrelled. "Jin was murdered by one of your wife's kin."

"It is justice, Hira!" He retorted.

She bared her teeth, nostrils flaring as she stared at Viserys, eyes wild. She spoke this softly for Viserys' ears only, for it was treason in and of itself.

"You have turned your head to the truth of your grandchildren, even when it is right in front of you. That scum declared the truth himself. Why do you ignore it? Must you turn your head to the grievance committed against me?"

Viserys eyes hardened, until it softened at the sight of a tear that leaked from Hira's eye. "On this I will not indulge you the way I do my daughter. The matter is settled."

The king departed the hall, leaving Hira to her rage.