Originally Posted by
Pericles of Athens
Alton Waters stalked the beaches of Dragonstone, he’d spent half the morning rehearsing it in his head, over and over. The bastard was one of Daemon’s sworn swords, but he was one of many that had gravitated toward the charismatic old pirate and the two weren’t particularly close. In truth he could count the number of real interactions he’d had with the man in a single hand. He threw a stone into the water to calm himself, *skip* *skip* *splash*, as it smacked into a swelling wave and sunk beneath the murky waters.
He sighed deeply, pushing his bone white hair out of his face. “I may be a bastard.. and I’m hardly a noble.. but, surly Daemon wouldn’t turn his nose up at me..” He spoke the words aloud, stammering as he went, to embolden his faultering confidence. “After all.. the worst that could happen would be..” He gulped, a hint of fear and resignation on his face. “Better fed dragons.” He said, voice low and uneasy, as if he’d whispered some well kept secret. He shook his head, kneeling down and cupping his hands in the cold surf of Dragonstone. Once his hands were filled he splashed the water over his face, washing away his concerns for the moment.
Shortly there after Alton made his way back up toward the keep, knees weak and arms heavy. As he entered the keep he made to visit Daemon, praying to the Seven the King wasn’t one of his infamous moods.