Pieces in Their Places

The Archon had his answers, and an unwanted nuisance too close to his seat. The Westerosi bastard had risen, suddenly brazen and bold again where she should've known to stay down and broken. The Archon was no warrior, a politic in velvet robes, slightly stain at the collar with peach juice, the bulging stomach and rotund form of the man made him look a merry old man, a successful merchant, or an artisan of some renown. Taerys was no mere merchant or artisan though, he was the Archon, and as the woman spat in his face speaking, his smile disappeared. The smile was a center piece of the Archon's look, and at least a hint of it stayed most times, giving a quality of happiness and generosity to the old man as his wrinkled, old skin raised, laugh lines deep on his forehead.

Now without the curl of his lips, the Archon looked much different, he eyes were full of fury, and teeth were clenched beneath his blue beard. The Archon looked more akin to his youth without the smile, of the man who had given anything to get farther ahead. The man who had pushed thousands of independent shops into his protection, who had not batted an eye when his father was slain in the street, who had seen his wife's entire family killed just for a place in the nobility. Age lines cut jagged rows across his face, crevices and depths. His eyes grew dark, sunken back slightly into their sockets, while dye blue eyebrows were bent deeply. A hand ran up to his face, wiping clear the bastard's spit from his old, dry skin.

He looked at the liquid in his hand distastefully and wiped it on a cloth that a servant quickly brought to him. Then his glare bore down on Gwyn as he stood, not too tall but a large, thick figure. He stood well on thick legs, strong with muscle from having to carry around the mass of his upper body. Cold, cruel anger came from his mouth, as he spoke so that everyone could hear the words he delivered, deeming it not worth his time to respond to the other two for the time being. There were matters to attend to first.

"Sit down, you western parasite." There was no suggestion in his voice, it was an order, completed whether she wished it or not. Two of his Unsullied guard moved forward to the bound woman standing before their Archon. One pushed her backward, watching her stumble toward her chair before slamming her in the chest with the butt of his spear to settle her back in her original seat. The second Unsullied moved behind her and tied her tightly to the chair, so she would not disturb the Archon again. They then returned to their post, while they left Gwyn to catch her breath and hope the force of the spear butt hadn't broken any ribs.

The Archon's demeanor did not change back as he continued on the course of his conversation, clear and intent. "Call the man what you will, at least he is worth more than livestock to me. You should know how little you are worth now, you've lost the worth of your investment. Now, as I was saying, it's debatable. The thought I would immediately go to is the hands, but there is so much a thief needs, one can argue. It's a bit of a debate."

"Is it their hands, to quickly and nimbly grab their quarry? Is it their sight, so they can spot guards, threats, and what is worth taking? Is it their anonymity, so they can blend into a crowd without problem, escape into the sea of bodies in a city?" The Archon lost the fierce look, returning to his normal face, though slightly thoughtful, pondering the questions he had posed to them all.

"Take them all from her. Take a hand to weaken her grip, take an eye to blind her. Brand her on the forehead with the word thief in both the Common Tongue and High Valyrian. You know, I am feeling generous. Take a foot from the Westerosi as well." Now he pointed at the woman as several of his men began to move forward, different implements in their hands. "You wish to go to Volantis so badly, then so be it. That was where I was sending you anyway, but if you wish to be so difficult."

"Enjoy your days being a blind, hobbling beggar outside of the Black walls for the rest of your days."

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