LION PRIDE.

To those of King's Landing, the coming wake of King Jaehaerys II was more jarring than expected, the collaborators in the upper echelons of the militant capital now forced to adjust their routine to accommodate the summons of faraway Houses. The stubborn attitude, inherit of such prideful people, nearly opted to ignore the call altogether-as was likely expected from their neighbors. Yet, as banners began to crawl over the horizon, it would seem that this time, King's Landing would venture from their momentary sanctuary.

There were three of them, a trinity that seemed the only thing they shared in common was the Lannister emblem fastened to their clothing. Among them stood a familiar figure, his gaze seemingly distant as he lead the pack towards the Master of Coins chamber, his Highborn Lannister armor not dawned for the day, only the blade he'd become so accustomed to using resting at his side. With him, a lady in robes far too voluminous for her much more petite frame, shuffling through the hallway just as much as her legs held a personal war with the fabrics that engulfed them. The other, a much more unruly, gruff of a man, almost as if he was chiseled from the vary mountains themselves-followed behind, his eyes closed to the world-his chest exposed to the elements.

Logan raised his left hand, and both the woman and the large man stopped dead in their tracks.

The Lion's march halted, glaring toward the both of them. "Go see that my mother is looked after," he ordered. The two bowed before leaving their commander to himself.

For a brief moment, Logan was able to relax, the constant shadowing of two of his mother's trusted servants forever troubling him. He was a lion more than capable of handling himself, even in the unruly hallways of King's Landing.

Upon arriving at the capital with the remaining member of House Lannister, Logan had immediately sent a raven to his dear sister Yuliya, hoping to reunite if only for a brief moment, understanding that she still had an important job to uphold. A man of family before all else, despite all their differences Logan cared for each of his siblings. However, he had always kept a soft spot for Yuliya. In many ways she was like him, strong, well-minded and filled with integrity for her House.

He longed to see how she'd grown, hopeful the young girl he'd loved and grew up with hadn't changed.

Coming to her door, he breathed a sigh of relief, then knocked.

She welcomed him inside, and he burst through the door like an ordinary brother would when greeting his sister.

"You've gotten big!" He grinned, the scar upon his lip curled as his grin drew wider. "What on earth are they feeding you here, dear sister?" He joked, embracing his sister in a hug.

His sisters embrace felt like they were children again, Logan briefly imagining the pair always straying too far from Casterly Rock as they played knights outside the steep castle walls. Logan was always the daring type, never far from putting himself in danger, yet Yuliya was always mere steps behind her brother and his adventures. The two were inseparable, and finally reunited albeit briefly. In a moment of privacy, Logan cherished their reunion, knowing all too well that after departing from King's Landing that it could be months, or even years until he'd see his dear sister again.

"Thank the maker they don't serve shyte here like in the north," he joked, squeezing Yuliya, imagining he'd never have to let her go again.

In a time such as this, it was astounding to feel such joy.

Logan knew better, aware it would not last.

The moments they had, while few, he'd be thankful for.

"Are you deathly busy, Yuliya? All I hear are whispers that the Master of Coin spends tiring days and sleepless nights frantically trying to piece together the royal families spending habits..."

The Lannisters wealth was unprecedented, yet it was their managing of such abundance that truly lead their great House to be feared. Their father had given the responsibility of handling the crown's expenses with Yuliya, and in turn protecting the Lannisters own investments.

"If you have time to spare... I'd like to show you something," Logan grinned, peeling away from his embrace.

"Perhaps the Starks like you more than I," he jested, before continuing. 

The Master of Coin was no doubt surrounded by the eyes of the city guard, however Logan had planned an adventure for the both of them on the outskirts of King's Landing altogether. There would be no unwanted visitors unless by some stroke of sheer luck.

"The sheep talk, Yuliya. A lion can do nothing but listen." There was little worry of whether his sister could handle the task given to her. She was gifted both in strong mind and body, and would do a better job than most men.

"We must be quick," he moved with haste, hoping his sister followed swiftly and silently.

The streets were pooling with people, some beggars, some trying to sell used tailored goods to others. While the lion did not have a detailed map of every nook tucked away in the capital, he had been here many times before, albeit under circumstances involving a few scantily clad women during his fruitful days of youth. They had shown him ways to move about the city to avoid confrontation with any watchful eyes from the city guard or the people who roamed the streets daily.

Dipping past a back alley, Logan lead his sister to the Blackwater Rush, one of the most significant rivers of Westeros which stretched and began far westward, flowing into hills and great valleys. 

"There we are," he plucked a few branches of foliage away from the riverbank, revealing two quivers and bows, one for the each of them. "Lets see if you're as good a shot as you are balancing coin for the royal family." 

Time flows strangely under the eaves of The Reach; a day could pass in an eye-blink or stretch away into eternity. Indeed, it could do both at once, for the passage of the seconds is never so subjective as it is within the forest's timeless glades. It was there where Logan had spent his best days hunting, honing his aim with a bow when not traveling through the Westerlands. 

In his youth, Logan listened to stories preserved through the ages by the stories and songs of courtly skalds, and within the ornate ritual performances of tellers of tales.

The chronicles of these tales were commonly broken down into a series of great seasons; rebirth, redemption, and so on. Each great season marked the passage of several generations, and therefore many lesser season passed over; ice, rebirth, the hunt and the great unknown. When we was a boy, Logan could not comprehend such depth of detail the stories had, yet he'd always been drawn to the hunt.

This game between himself and Yuliya was no different.

"Is it now?" He looked puzzled, almost shocked. "Was it not me who taught you how to shoot in the first place?" While renowned in the kingdoms for his lethality with a blade, Logan was quite fond of archery. He'd spent countless adventures in the wilderness perfecting his craft.

His fingers glided along the bowstring, his opposite hand reaching for a single arrow within one of the quivers.

"Pick a spot across the river, and if I miss you win. If I hit it, I'll pick your spot." The string pulled back without much effort, Logan tightening it until Yuliya gave him the go ahead. Who said sibling rivalry wasn't good for family bonding?

"Aye, you're right," he remarked, the norm never intending for a lady to be on the front lines of the battlefield, let alone shoot a bow. More often than not he was scolded for going out of his way to teach Yuliya when they were younger, but that never stopped the boy then. A firm believer in change, from a young age Logan had seen how absorbed Yuliya was in the world and its rules; and how she so wanted to break them.

As an older brother, it softened his heart knowing if an occasion ever escalated within the confinements of King's Landing and its high castle walls, he knew full well his sister was more than capable of protecting herself. "But while the people might not think one is not capable of putting an arrow through a man's heart," his grip loosened as the string slid across his forearm, Logan's expression changing to one of certainty, concentrated and firm on the task at hand.

He reveled in the silence before the shot. "I've done it, unfortunately." The arrow hit with precision, plunking into the decrepit tree. He glanced to Yuliya, impressed with himself but far from finished.

"You should concentrate less on winning," he reached for another arrow and fastened it into the bowstring, his breathing steady as he aimed and fired another shot.

It hit its mark, the second arrow resting beside the right of the first, on the exact same worn down tree.

Logan exhaled, grinning. "And more on hitting the gap between each of my arrows."

Logan's thoughts traced back to the hares of the westerlands and how he pitied ending them. Preferring larger game, he'd quickly worked his way up from hunting rodents and tree climbers to game that took skill and patience. 

In the end he hated the idea of killing an animal and not using it for food, but such was the fate of a lesser creature.

If anything, it was a reminder to Logan of the things to come.

Forests would burn, homes splintered, the very foundations they built this peace upon torn asunder in the blink of an eye. The passing of the King would usher in an era of war the likes of which the Seven Kingdoms had not partaken in for hundreds of years.

House Lannister forged at the center.

Peeling yet another arrow from the bundle, Logan's gaze trained itself on the hare, watching his every move. His breath steadied, the shot twanged and the life quickly vanished from the small creature, Logan having given it a quick death.

"Are you happy in King's Landing?" his arms dropped, his tone changing as he shared a glance toward his sister.

His question seemed to lack conviction.

Yuliya spoke of their father, and Logan hung his head.

They had always tried to do right by the man, striving only to be seen in his good graces.

"Father's wishes," he barked. Logan drew yet another arrow from the quiver that rested by his side, his gaze peeling from his sister and resting on the riverbed across the water. "What about Yuliya? What does she want, hm?"

The Lannisters had always put family first. Forever and always.

But what if they were the least bit selfish? What if what they desired most would come to fruition? "If Yuliya Lannister could do anything, be anything, travel anywhere in the world... where would she go? What would she do?"

Deep down Logan knew Yuliya longed for something. He did as well. Since he was a young lad he'd always dreamed of becoming a knight, living through adventures like in the stories he heard; those tales never revealed how much pain one would go through, or how one could almost forget themselves after living a life of serving others. Logan found himself wanting more, then Yuliya's question chipped away at the golden boy exterior.

"...No." he said softly, shocked that he'd allowed himself to state the truth. Becoming a knight was a boys dream fulfilled, but Logan was no longer a small child playing pretend. A soldier at heart, he wanted something more for himself. For the both of them, their younger siblings as well.

"The crow," he pointed across the water with a nod of his head, the bird having eyed the two Lannisters for quite some time. It was perched atop a tree, its branch bending at the slightest shift in its perch. "That's your shot."