Private Tales Fireworks and a White Rabbit

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Hob smiled charmingly and offered her hand to the noble, giggling a bit and batting her long lashes at him. “Charmed. Hoblina, please.” She said politely. “I’m so glad you know Varys. Perhaps you can help patch him up. He’s still a bit spotty, the poor thing.” She leaned up and kissed Varys’ cheek, leaning over to whisper into his ear. “Get your shit together.”

She pulled back and playfully touched Niv’s arm. “Bachelor nothing! He could have fooled me.” She winked back at Varys. “But he’s so secretive. Please, you have to tell me everything.”

Hob took Niv’s arm, making sure that her breasts brushed him. A little charm never hurt. If they were to squeeze every bit of information they could, she needed to smooth over Varys’ awkwardness. Keeping a man’s blood from his brain tended to help with situations like that. “Why don’t we find a cafe nearby?”

Varys
 
Varys scowled down at Hob's whispered scold, which seemed to trigger a response in their new 'friend' Niv. He raises his eyebrows and places his hand over Hob's leaning in closer as he laughs. "Pleasure to meet you, Hoblina. You must be one hell of a woman if you can put up with this old grouch." Niv noticeably leans into Hob's chest a bit as she presses her ample figure against his arm, grinning as he reaches out to pat Varys' arm. "I merely jest, of course. Still, if you landed this beauty, you must be doing something right. Come on, San'Seya, take a seat at my table. It's been too long my old friend."

He turns and begins to walk back to his table in the square, waving for the two of them to follow. The other men at Niv's table had cleared out, mingling with the other tables and nursing drinks held in jeweled goblets. Varys remained quiet for his part, not wanting to say something that could ruin their chance again. Thankfully Niv seemed quite the talker. "I met Varys about 55 years ago now, we were both apprentices under the same Master, eager to learn the ways of magic, as so many are when they're young and ambitious. He picked up on Transmutation a lot better than I did mind you, but I was able to use it well enough to get a nice little spot for myself." He smiled coyly back at Varys, who offered a decidedly better acted smile back this time. Niv had obviously followed Hob's idea of using Transmutation in the way of thievery. "We each had our motives. I wanted riches, and Varys wanted..."

"Eternal life." Varys finished as he lowered into a chair at the table, pulling out the one beside him for Hob. "The secret to living forever, the power to break one of magic's cardinal rules." He'd almost gotten it too, if the fire hadn't killed his father, such a plan might have worked.

"Yes..." Niv began, sitting on the other side of Hob. It was an odd seat choice, but Varys suspected it confirmed that Niv was taking Hob's bait. "Tell me Hoblina dear, have you ever heard of Razoth's Prism?"

Jonathan Burr
 
Hob knew Varys was upset. She understood, gods knew she did. This reprehensible ass was talking about hollowing out a defenseless boy’s skull, as though an elf was something someone could just move into. Varys was a sweet man, not a damned abandoned house waiting for an owner. Hob resented the very idea. It reminded her of Jon. Emelia had expected Jon to step into the role of public puppet after her husband had outlived his use. This other Varys had the same expectation of Varys, before his untimely death.

Good, she hoped it was slow.

For now though, this man’s lips were loose and she wasn’t afraid to play up to him. She sat down next to him, elegantly folding herself into the chair. So this Niv could speak to inanimate objects...they needed to keep him away from the wagon at all costs. Riches were easily obtained by those who could sweet talk any lock. Varys’ father had turned to...the Transmutation of life. The forbidden ugly secret of trabsmutation: creating another being. Gods. Had this maniac used pieces of himself to recreate Varys?

She shoved those thoughts away. She had to keep his tongue loose. She smiled and leaned on the table, her hand sneakily sliding up his thigh. Just close enough. “Varys told me a little...it’s a magic focus, right? Something to sharpen your magic? Make it...a little less hard?” Her fingers whispered over his crotch as she withdrew to settle back against the chair, a coy smile on her lips.

Varys
 
Varys was perfectly aware of what Hob was doing, and while he silently promised to pay her back for it when they returned to the hotel, for now he was far more concerned with getting information out of Niv. It this is what it took, then so be it. Niv, for his part, had begun to reply to her question, before stopping short when he felt her delicate hand cross over the lower portion of his robes. Varys had picked up quite the minx, hadn't he? If he wasn't so aware of his old friends infamous temper, he'd be groping her right back. Clearing his throat, he continued.

"Ah... well you see... Not exactly, my dear. It's an artifact of great power, that Varys discovered in the caves deep below the small mining town of Osteriam. He to this day refuses to tell me any specifics about where it was found..." He offers a pointed look over to Varys. "But I nonetheless helped him study it. It's a focal point that seems to be capable of storing any form of energy in existence, and seamlessly transfers it."

Varys leans forward to speak; if he let Niv explain everything, it would cast suspicion on him for not knowing what he should know, memory loss or otherwise. He knew this much for himself: "I was nearing the end of my life, and I still hadn't found the secret to eternal life. I'd heard telling of forbidden arts, the creation of new life using magic. With my ability, it was a simple matter to create a boy in my image. Then I used Razoth's Prism to transfer my soul and life into that boy. Immediately after that, I lost everything in the wildfire."

It made him feel rather sick to say it out loud.

Niv nodded, leaning back and moving his arms back into a stretch. When they came back down, the arm on Hob's side not so subtly rested on her own thigh for half a moment, giving a squeeze before he dropped the arms to his side. "A shame really, but impressive how lifelike you made your 'doll'. The last time I saw you, you couldn't walk without a cane." He peeks over at Varys once again, a little smirk on his lips. "If you really came all this way to ask for money, then don't worry about it. I already instructed the Dalriada Bank & Treasury to cut some out in your name. I did it while you were practicing with those flowers over there." Clearing his throat once more, his smirk fades into a look much more... cold. "We're even now, San'Seya. Don't say I'm not a man of my word."

Jonathan Burr
 
Hob listened, smiling. She kept up the appearance of the ignorant wife, flicking one of her long ears as the man squeezed her thigh. She wanted to snap that hand off and feed it to him. “Thank you so much for your help, Niv. I couldn’t stand sleeping in one of those grimy motels again. You feel like you can never get clean.” She said happily. “Though I have to ask...even for what? Menfolk, especially mages, can act so mysterious at times.”

Inside she was reeling. Gods, what that bastard had planned to do to Varys! Pooka didn’t have perfect grasps on morality but Hob would have never hurt a child. Sure, a haunting here and there but nothing like what Niv was describing. Gods she hoped there was no bad blood with this elder mage. Varys wasn’t experienced enough to stand on his own two feet magic wise.

“You should come to the show tonight. Varys is very skilled.” She told Niv. She was going to make the young elf look like a prodigy. She wanted to make this man black with jealousy.

Varys
 
The elf beside her was equally curious as to what Niv owed his father for. Of course, if Niv was giving them some money, it would make things a lot easier on Hob and Jon while they were here. The old man leaned back with a scowl, a hand raising to run over his bald head. "Near the end of our apprenticeship, I was starting to truly come into my own in terms of getting through locks and the like, stealing to earn enough to get up in the world. I made the retrospectively foolish decision to steal our Master's savings and flee to start the life I now enjoy."

He looks over at Varys, sneering. "He's always been such a goodie two-shoes. He caught wind and told our Master. When I went for the money, Master tried to kill me in his rage. Varys intervened and slew him to save my life. He's held it over my head ever since. Well, no more. The amount I've left you is the exact amount I tried to steal that night."

Leaning on his elbow, Varys raises a brow. "I can't remember that vividly. Must be part of the spotty memories." He refused to put faith in a story that painted his wretched father as a reliable friend of any sort. Surely he must have had his own reasons for the killing? He wouldn't give the idea of THAT Varys being a 'Goodie Two-Shoes' the dignity of pretending to remember it. "Hoblina is right though. I'm planning on performing here in the square when night falls. You should come watch, I've learned some new tricks you may find quite intriguing." He puts emphasis on his next few words. "And profitable."

There's an all too obvious sparkle in Niv's eye, and he raises suddenly from his chair. "Profitable, you say? In that case, allow me to advertise for you. I'll gather up some of the biggest coin-pigs in Dalriada and bring them here when the sun goes dark. We'll split the profit and make off well, what do you say, San'Seya?"

Varys was rather hesitant to agree to such terms, but one look at Hob, who was barely hiding her desire to rip the man to shreds at this point, and he knew it would work out. He nods to Niv.

"Tonight then. Come along my love, let's head out for now."

Jonathan Burr
 
“A noble act for certain.” Hob smiled at Varys. “Varys is a good man. He saved my life as well, a long time ago.” She nodded at the plan, winking at Niv. “Bring all of them, and leave the performing to us. I’m sure you two would welcome the chance to pull one job together. We’ll see you tonight Niv.”

She got up, planting a kiss on Niv’s cheek, and hurried to take Varys’ arm. She walked away with him, steering him back toward their hotel. As soon as they were out of earshot she whispered to him. “We let him gather up the big fish. We make sure all their cash stays with us, and I’ll help you hide half of it. The other half? We transmute from dirt. We’ll be miles away by the time his coin purse turns to dust.” She growled determinedly, flicking her ears.

Gods she hated that man. “Let’s go up to our room. I have to wash a spot on my thigh.” She grumbled, leaning in to Varys.

Varys
 
Varys took Hob's arm, leading them back to the Hotel. They had a few hours time before night would come. At the very least that would give them time to prepare, and would give Niv time to gather up all the potential money tossers he knew. Regardless, Varys had never been so glad to leave a place in his entire life. With all the same steely determination that dripped in her voice, he replied in turn, leaning his head down to her ear as they turned a corner.

"And here I was thinking of going the simple route, maybe leading him into an alley and letting you do exactly what you were itching to do just a moment ago."

He smiled, opening the door for her when they arrived at the Widow's Head. He briefly left into the alley beside the hotel to check on the Wagon. Everything seemed to be untouched, so he entered the inn behind her. The man behind the counter took his name, and directed them to a room upstairs. Hob may not have noticed it, but the entire trip up to their room, he clutched her just a bit tighter. He would only release her to sit on the edge of the mid-sized bed. The room wasn't filthy, but it wasn't high-class. Certainly better than the inns he'd stayed at in Fal'Addas. Taking a deep breath, he clutches the legs of his pants. He needed to process what had just happened.

Jonathan Burr
 
Hob smiled and leaned over to kiss him. “Now where’s the fun in that?” She whispered fondly, and stuck close with him on their way back to the hotel. Despite Varys putting on a strong face...she knew it disturbed him. What Niv had said would shake any man to his core. She followed him upstairs and briefly glanced at Jon’s room. The Transmuter was asleep in bed. He looked like he’d just barely managed to dry himself off, and was cuddled on top of the covers in a bathrobe. Hob closed his door and went to Varys’ room.

Her poor elf was seated on the bed, holding his pant legs tightly. She could practically see steam coming out of his ears processing what had happened. She gently pried his fingers off his pants and knelt in front of him, holding his hands in hers.

“The old man is dead and gone, Varys. It’s not his face or his name anymore. It’s yours. You are who you choose to be. Not what he’s set out for you.” She said softly, her thumbs caressing his hands. “I’m sorry you had to see that today.”

Varys
 
He couldn't pretend that he wasn't seething. The whole idea of it all: That he was some "doll" , devoid of identity or rights, for his father to use as a backup body when his own failed... It's exactly what he was afraid of finding out. In truth, he'd suspected it. Hearing it from a reputable source stung tenfold though. It just confirmed the doubts he'd been trying to fight back from. It was too sobering to bear.

His fingers felt as though they would dig through the fabric of his pants before hob knelt in front of him, taking his hands in hers. He tried his best not to look as defeated as he felt, and while her words lessened the sting, they couldn't fully numb the pain he was in at the moment. He leans down, resting his forehead against hers and holding her hands in his.

"I can't escape it though. It's always going to follow me somehow..." He swallows, attempting to 'reset' himself. "Thank you, for being there for me today Hob. You're very important to me... I hope you know that. I couldn't have sat through that nonsense without you." He offered a smile and let her hands go. He only hoped he could focus on his performance will all this... uncertainty. "Go wash up. We have a few hours before dusk, and I need to clear my head."

Jonathan Burr
 
“You will be more than he ever was.” Hob reassured him, leaning up to kiss him. She knew how shattered he felt. He needed time alone to think and process. She touched his cheek and nuzzled him, rising and pulling the dress up over her head. She sauntered toward the bathtub, and slid into the water. At least Jon had thought to order them a bath before he conked out. The water was cold but....she touched the tub. Steam sprung forth, and she smiled and snuggled down into the water. Hob bathed herself, carefully cleaning the insides of her ears. As long and as lovely as they were, they were also large and unwieldy.

She settled her cheek against the side of the tub and looked at Varys. The poor man. She climbed out of the bath, clean, and held her hand above the water. A softball sized orb of dirty water and fur rose out and she carefully opened a window, lobbing it out into the street. “The bath’s clean and hot.” She called to Varys, and went to check up on Jon.

She sat on the bed next to him and brushed his hair back from his face. He wasn’t so hot anymore; the magic exhaustion was fading with some good sleep. She leaned over and kissed his cheek.

Varys
 
Varys sat on the bed, remaining rooted to the spot he'd picked as she cleaned herself. No matter how much he trusted Hob's word, the lingering questions that remained still plagued him. He'd remembered so much about Oban, and it was somehow because of his father's own memories of the place. It had been one thing to assume that he may have hid the Prism's location in his memories, but Oban? He had no reason to purposefully plant such nostalgia. He couldn't help but wonder how much of him was his father. Was he just a carbon copy? Were all of his memories locked away inside of him, all of his traits? He'd even taken up Transmutation, just like the Varys before him...

He looks up at Hob when she calls out to him, but he doesn't hear what she says. Pulling himself up from his seated position on the bed, he walks to the bath, more or less on autopilot. Reaching his hands behind his head, he pulls off the tie holding his hair up, and tosses it aside. Undressing, and folding his clothes neatly in a pile beside the bath, he sinks into the water.

He doesn't make any attempt to wash himself. He lets the warmth of the water engulf him as he stares at the ceiling. He had to get over this, for himself, for Hob, and for Jon. It wasn't fair for them to share this weight with him.

Jonathan Burr
 
Hob fussed over Jonathan for a bit, making sure he was cuddled up in bed and ordering some food for him to be ready when he woke. It would be the last of their cash, but hopefully...they would make out like bandits tonight. She cuddled her master up, smiling down at him. “You know...I owe you. If you hadn’t summoned me...I wouldn’t have found a very, very sweet and troubled boyfriend. You have a talent, Jon.” She whispered, not wanting to wake him.

Hob returned to Varys, who was laying in the tub with his eyes at the ceiling. Well...she wasn’t dressed yet. She straddled the tub, giving him quite the choice view, and looked up. “And um...what’s so interesting up there?” She asked sweetly.

Varys
 
If anything was able to break his silent focus on the situation he was in, it was the view she'd so graciously decided to offer him. His eyes widen a bit, and he turns his head, clearing his throat awkwardly. "Well, I can think of a couple things that catch my attention now..." He ends up laughing though, unable to remain so stoic through her actions. Eventually, he turned his head back to look up at her with a little smile.

"Well, I was trying to brood on the dire implications that I've learned tonight, but now I'm being distracted." He reaches up and rests his hands on her legs. "I won't lie, Hob. I'm nervous. What if I can't focus out there tonight? What if I mess it up? I know you're on my side, and I adore you, but that... that wasn't supposed to happen."

He shakes his head, sinking deeper into the water. "How's Jon?"
 
Hob looked down at him with a smile and a laugh, his reverie broken. Good, she was beginning to worry. “You’ll be fine. You can’t mess it up. Every mistake is a joke unrealized. When Jon’s fire flowers wouldn’t go off, he would play with them. Lecture them for the crowd, or tell a child to wake up the little flower for him. There are no mistakes in performance. I’ll be there guiding you every step of the way.” She smiled at him. “You did so well lighting off that flower. Remember, we have a limited stock so I’ll help you get them to last longer and do more creative things with them.”

Hob smiled and reached down to mess with his hair. “Jon is fine. Resting. Looks so much better. He always does better when he’s had a bath. He should be right as rain by morning.” She said affectionately.

Varys
 
Varys nods to her, relieved to hear Jon was improving. It had been a scary few days for the man, and Varys prayed he'd never have to see his Master in that condition again. The good news, coupled with Hob's presence and comforting words, were doing wonders to help him forget what he'd just been so upset about. He begins to pull himself out of the bath, his arms wrapping around Hob and lifting her up as he does so, carrying her out with him. He wasn't totally concerned with getting dressed at the moment.

"There's something else we need to talk about while we have this time alone. Regarding the two of us."

He moves back to the bedroom with her as he speaks, clicking his tongue in thought. "I know this is a loaded question, Hob. It's one I think we both need to answer though. How do you feel about me, in all honesty?"

Jonathan Burr
 
Hob giggled in delight as Varys lifted her up, grinning and putting her arms around his neck. Well well, there was something to be said about having a strong man around. She let herself be carried, an amused look on her face. When did this spry young man get so muscular? She toyed with his hair, her smile fading a little when he mentioned talking.

“Well...I like you. You’re kind, and handsome, and you’ve got this air to you. You’re naive but you keep your head on your shoulders. Once you get over yourself you’re really a sweet man. Not to mention you fuck like a stallion.” She said carefully. “I’d like to...see where this goes. Us. Together. If you’re okay with being with an older woman.”

She toyed with his hair nervously as she spoke, looking up at him.

Varys
 
The elf chuckles at her reply, laying down with her still wrapped in his arms. He personally thought that she might be over-praising him, but she seemed quite serious. "Get over myself, huh?" He pursed his lips and hummed, his eyes trailing over the features of her face as his lips curled up into a content smile. "Suppose you're probably right. As usual." His head leaned against her hand, his own sliding up her back to rest against her neck.

"I know we didn't come together in a very conventional way. It was sudden, and kind of spur of the moment. I'm glad it happened though, and I'm happy that I've gotten to know the real you. You've been nothing but supportive of me, no matter what."

He leans in, pressing his lips to hers once more. His nerves were ever-present, but they were fading with every minute he spent with her. Hob was there to guide him through this, and if there was any positive to the truth about his father, it was that he was likely more gifted than he had any knowledge of.

"A part of me wishes I didn't have to leave this room tonight."

Jonathan Burr
 
Hob cuddled down on her side, smiling. “You’re like Jon. You get so wrapped up that you forget to be here.” She tapped his nose with a finger. She tilted her head up to kiss him, lazily throwing a thigh over his hip to press them closer. “We have to leave this room. Or I’m going to give in and completely exhaust you. That was the last of our coin...if we want breakfast we need to earn.”

She kissed him and got up, snatching her dress off the floor and wiggling into it. “Just keep your eye out. We’re planning on cheating your father’s old friend and we’ve pissed off the Abbey. Quite possibly Emelia to the point she’s sent someone here. Be aware, and don’t go anywhere without me.”

Hob returned to the bed and gave Varys’ rear an affectionate swat. “Come on, let’s show that old pervert not to mess with the White Rabbit banner.”

Varys
 
He supposed he couldn't argue with her assessment, as much as he'd like to dispel such comparisons. Jon was a dear friend, but Varys didn't really have any desire to be too similar to him. At least, not when he was already struggling with his identity as it was. He pulls Hob close to his body, smirking at her as she teases him. "That's a shame, because I have a few ideas of how to make myself feel a bit better, you see. They quite heavily involve you, bunny."

He lounged on the bed for a moment longer to admire her through half lidded eyes as she dressed, offering a whistle as she shimmied for him. "Bram? I mean, sure she could send somebody here, but I don't expect anybody could make the trip without at least one more day. You underestimate just how much time crossing that river saved us. It's a long trek to get around through the Allirian Strait. Nevertheless, we shouldn't be gone too long."

He stood and began to dress himself. He still didn't have a shirt to go under his jacket, as he'd used it to tend to their wounds after the skirmish with the Abbey. His bare chest was a bit visible, and it no doubt looked a bit unprofessional. Still, beggars couldn't afford to be choosers. They didn't have the time to hunt for clothes right now. Offering his arm to Hob, he leads her back out of the Hotel and back to the square.

There they would see that Niv had indeed kept good on his promise. As the sun began to fall behind the buildings around them, he'd gathered what looked to be at least 30 something rich looking folk, who sat at a table adorned with all manner of delicacies. The guards that had surrounded the square had lessened, and as the couple approached, beckoned them forward.

"Sir San'Seya! Your display is eagerly awaited!"

Jonathan Burr
 
Hob walked with him, on his arm. She sauntered, professional as always with her chin up and eyes forward. This was second nature to her; she had been performing with Jonathan for years. Not so much like this, as a female, but perhaps it was time to work less in the shadows. She had to help Varys. He was inexperienced playing the role of a master. Gods she hoped he thought as quickly as Jonathan had when he was still green.

She leaned in to kiss Varys’ cheek. “Just worry about igniting them. I’ll do the rest. Start small. Think quickly, and play to the crowd.” She whispered in his ear, and drew away to bow to the crowd. She stood beside the table they had made, waiting for Varys to grasp a flower and begin.

The basket had an assortment of flowers. The ones with red stripes were screamers like the one he’d let off earlier. They were color coded, the paper wrappings corresponding to what color the sparks would let off. Any patterns or images would be purely to the talent of the Transmuter...and that was what Hob worried about.

Varys
 
It almost felt like all the nerves he'd been trying to rid himself of for the past evening fell back onto his shoulders in layers the closer they got to the small table Hob had crafted. The name the guard used didn't help; These nobles weren't here for a rookie who had only set off a couple blasts in his life. They were here expecting his father, who was apparently a vastly accomplished mage. Accomplished enough to make him, at least.

Perhaps that would be his salvation here.

He nodded to the hushed words his lover spoke into his ear, although he was certain it wouldn't be nearly that cut and dry in practice. Still, maybe he could afford to consider his origins a benefit just this once. If San'Seya had intended to take this body, then the chance it was equally endowed with talent such as his was extremely high. The question that remained was weather or not he could harness that talent. Turning to the crowd of nobles, muttering amongst themselves some in doubt and some in anticipation, he raises a hand and waves.

His father wouldn't have been boisterous and loud about this, and neither would he.

He reaches down, picking up a flower adorned with a blue wrapping and setting it on the table. Pushing his tongue into his cheek as his mind wanders a bit, he looks back down at the basket. It was a risk, but... He needed to do more than the status quo. They might not be bought into otherwise. He reaches down and retrieves a second flower, setting it beside the first. One red, and one blue.

"Ready Hob? Blue first, and then I'm going to do the Red immediately afterwards."

He places his hands over the flowers, his right over the Blue, and left over Red. Letting that invisible spring push down, building up all of the pressure he could bear... He tosses the Blue one up into the sky, and quickly follows with the second flower.

Jonathan Burr
 
Hob took a deep breath. Jon normally would touch the flower, and give her a conduit through which to pass her magic. It was like lightning down a rod from one man to another. Here? It was more like trying to mine through the ground with the same rod. It would be difficult. She put her ears back and sat. Contact with the ground would help. Transmuters needed the earth. Stone, glass, and steel. She listened, felt. Her power spidered through the stone and up the table, up to the flowers he selected.

He threw them in the air, and Hob reached for them. It was difficult in the air, more so than she’d bargained. The blue unfurled into a beautiful flower. The red burst behind it unaided in a shower of crimson sparks. She gave him a look. He needed to do more than throw them in the air! Explain what they were to the crowd. For the god’s sake...introduce himself! What was he doing?

She stood up and stepped delicately in front of the table. “Ladies and Gentlemen, I give you Varys San’Seya! An elvish lord from the northern forests. A man who looked through the veil of death and stepped through. A man who has reached up and plucked the very stars from the sky for you tonight!” She called, and bowed with a flourish toward Varys.

Varys
 
Varys couldn't help but breathe a deep sigh of relief as the flowers ignited about as flawlessly as he could have possibly hoped. It was a simple display; a smattering of red and blue hues across the night sky, but it showed him that this was not out of his power. He just needed to focus. He needed to push out of his mind how eerily familiar this was to him. The small round of applause he got only increased in volume with Hob's grandiose words, causing the semi-interested crowd to grow a bit more invested.

Of course, Varys had to grit his teeth at her choice of words. Stepping through death? Plucking the stars? How ridiculously cliché and asinine. What sort of an egotistical maniac would tout such claims? He certainly had no desire to see them attributed to him. Even so, her efforts were not in vain. He had to keep things up. Picking up a white wrapped flower, along with a screamer, he shifted his shoulder back to nudge hob, whispering.

"How long to the screamers go on for, give or take? I have an idea."

Jonathan Burr
 
Hob could see he was displeased with it. Well, one didn’t get gold from the rich by putting on a silent display. They might appreciate it, but demonstration was second instinct to her by now. They had a company to keep up. She swept aside, flicking an ear a little toward Varys.

“Twenty seconds.” She said softly. She could only hope that he had enough control over his magic to realize that idea. Or to realize that he needed to pace himself for a big finish, similarly to the first performance Varys had witnessed with Jon.

Varys
 
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