The Night is Dark... (Torin)

[Torin Lannister]

Torin Lannister did not want to say it out loud, but he believed what Halaevia was saying. He had never given the Seven much love, but he was an anointed Knight none the less. There had been a Septon in Casterly Rock. But this foreign God....R'hllor. He felt it in his very core.

Ser Torin was supposed to be loud, boisterous and powerful. He swung his sword and killed men in their droves, he drank and laughed and sang. He was the largest lion of Lannister. An Unstoppable juggernaut in red and gold plate. He laughed at confrontation and ground the idea of defeat beneath a cruel and uncaring foot. Now he was back in Dragonstone, adorned in rags and discovering God. Last time he had in Dragonstone he wore rags too, for humility sake when he was knighted.

"The man in red...his face. It was me. I saw myself." In Westeros red was the Lannister colour. Despite popular belief their words were not 'A Lannister always pays his debts' and their colour was not gold. Hear Me Roar and Red. "Am I to Champion for the Lord of Light?" what else was he good for? He was a Knight-Commander of House Lannister. He fought and he fucked. Sometimes one because of the other. There was sense in him being a Champion of R'hllor. He could oust the Septon from Casterly Rock and the Eyrie, instate Red Priests, begin offering all those beneath him the light of the Lord.

He even had access to the Great Sept of Baelor. Ser Torin Lannister could convert it into the center of faith in R'hllor in Westeros.

[Halaevia Baratheon]

Torin had seen himself there. Met himself at the heart of the circle of flames. It was not the answer Halaevia had been expecting, but she saw at once that it was fitting, and she nodded. She knew that one had to be careful, with such matters of faith. Torin didn't need convincing, only a laying out of the truth as it was. She knew well enough that the light once seen could not be forgotten.

His question took her a little by surprise. Champion for the Lord of Light? It sounded a fine thing, and that he asked it told her much. It told her not only did he think it was the true meaning of his dream, but in some way the prospect appealed to him.

'You might,' she began, carefully. 'It would be a great and worthy thing if you did - but first you must be certain that you are capable.' It wasn't his skill she questioned, but the strength of his belief. 'You see,' she continued, 'you must fight either for the Darkness or for the Light. You must live either for the Darkness or the Light, and that is not a choice that I or anyone else may make for you. Torin-' she paused then, sighed softly, 'there is a war, and I do not mean only that for the Iron Throne. If the Lord of Light has called you, if you know it to be true? You and I cannot remain on opposite sides. It is a contradiction that cannot stand. You can forget it utterly, let the imprint of the light upon you fade until it is an old memory, reject the gift that you have been given - or you can step forward and become the Champion of the true god, the Lord of Light from whom that vision was sent.'

The implication was clear. There was no middle ground, not to her. Halaevia held up a hand before Torin could respond. 'Perhaps it is not to be decided quickly. Think upon it a while.' It wasn't as if he had much else to occupy himself with at the moment. If he was uncertain, reflection might make all the difference.