New students start from 'Game of Thrones'

Chapter 9 The Provocation

"Bran! How many times have I warned you not to climb so high!" Catelyn shouted, spotting Bran scrambling down the castle wall."Mother, I saw the king's procession! Hundreds of people—they're coming up the Kingsroad!" Bran exclaimed, excitement lighting up his face.Catelyn paid no heed to this. She fixed Bran with a stern gaze. "I want you to promise me—you'll never climb that high again.""Fine... I promise," Bran mumbled, staring at the tips of his shoes."You know, you always stare at your shoes when you lie," Catelyn said, sighing in exasperation at her second son.Bran just grinned, unashamed at being caught in his lie. Catelyn could only shake her head. "Come on. Go find your father. Tell him the king will be here any minute."At that, Bran called his direwolf Summer and hurried toward the Wolf's Keep.The thud of hooves echoed through Winterfell. The king's procession had turned off the Kingsroad and was heading straight for the castle. The vanguard knights had already ridden into Winterfell, continuing their march toward the Wolf's Keep.Owen stood with the Stark family in the keep's courtyard to greet the king—but he positioned himself at the back of the group.It wasn't that he wasn't "qualified" to stand closer; he simply didn't want to. Two reasons: first, he was unusually tall—only Hodor, Bran's squire, came close to matching his height in all of Winterfell. Second, Owen had no desire to kneel before the king. Having grown up in a society that taught respect only for parents and elders, he felt no urge to kneel to a king from this world.So Owen deliberately stayed at the back. With his cloak hiding part of his body, he could just squat when everyone else knelt—no one would notice.The entire royal procession had now entered Winterfell, and the vanguard knights had filed into the Wolf's Keep courtyard.Watching the knights in Lannister armor, cloaked in red and bearing the lion banner of House Lannister, Owen thought Robert made a sorry king.The Lannisters controlled nearly all the military power in King's Landing. Most of the remaining lords were either Lannister lackeys, bribed by the family, or had their own agendas—hardly anyone was truly loyal to Robert. It was a miracle he'd held the Iron Throne for so long.The procession continued to pour into the courtyard. When a red carriage rolled in, King Robert finally appeared on horseback, riding before the Stark family.As the king dismounted, Eddard Stark quickly led his family and the guards behind him to their knees. Owen squatted down, using his cloak to obscure himself among the crowd.Robert waved Eddard to his feet. Their eyes met."You've put on a bit of weight, old friend," Robert said, clapping Eddard on the shoulder.Eddard said nothing—he just looked Robert up and down. The two shared a smile, then pulled each other into a tight hug."Nine years... Why haven't I seen you? Where the hell have you been hiding?" Robert asked, after greeting Catelyn and turning back to Eddard."Guarding the North for you, Your Grace. Winterfell is always at your service," Eddard replied.Robert chuckled. He turned to Eddard's children, greeting each one by name. His words made it clear how fond he was of the Stark family.While Robert greeted the Starks, Queen Cersei Lannister stepped down from her carriage."Your Grace," Eddard and Catelyn said, bowing to her."Show me to your crypts. I wish to pay my respects," Robert said to Eddard, after greeting Bran."We've been traveling for a month—surely you can wait to gawk at corpses!" Cersei snapped, her voice sharp with suppressed anger.Cersei had every right to be furious. She knew exactly who Robert wanted to visit: Lyanna Stark—the "she-wolf" who still made her seethe with rage and jealousy.But Robert ignored her. He called for Eddard and strode toward the keep's crypts. Eddard could only follow, helpless."Was it really necessary to bury her here?" Robert asked, staring at Lyanna's statue. He reached out, his fingers brushing the cold stone of her face."She was my sister. She belongs here, Your Grace," Eddard said, watching his old friend.There was nothing he could say now. Lyanna was Robert's obsession—no words of reason would reach him."She belonged to me too!" Robert growled, his jaw tight. "Every night, I kill him again in my dreams. That Targaryen bastard!""You already killed him, Your Grace. House Targaryen is gone," Eddard said, gently humoring him."But I didn't finish the job!" Robert snarled, his eyes dark with bloodlust."Eddard—come south with me. Stop hiding at the edge of the world, wasting your time. You're needed," Robert said after a moment, his tone softening.Eddard opened his mouth to refuse, but Robert cut him off. "Lord Eddard Stark—I name you my Hand of the King."Eddard was stunned. He knelt. "I fear I am not worthy of such a great office, Your Grace.""I don't care what you fear!" Robert snapped, leaving no room for argument. "You helped me win that Iron Throne—now you'll help me keep it. Stand up."Robert turned back to Lyanna's statue, his voice trembling. "If Lyanna had lived, our houses would have been joined. But it's not too late. Your eldest daughter and my son—they'll bind our families together."Without waiting for Eddard's response, Robert turned and walked out of the crypt.By evening, the Wolf's Keep great hall was a scene of raucous celebration. In stark contrast, the training yard outside was quiet—save for Jon Snow, who hacked furiously at a practice dummy with his sword."Hasn't he died enough times for you?" a voice said from behind Jon.Jon spun around. When he saw who it was, his face lit up."Uncle Benjen!" Jon dropped his sword and ran to Benjen Stark, throwing his arms around him."You've grown, boy," Benjen said, hugging Jon and smiling. "Why aren't you inside, at the feast?""Lady Stark says it would insult the royal family to let a bastard sit at their table," Jon said, his voice heavy with bitterness.Catelyn was clearly targeting him—deliberately keeping him out of the hall."Well, the Wall has no such rules. In the Night's Watch, a bastard always has a seat," Benjen said, shaking his head slightly.He disagreed with Catelyn's treatment of Jon, but there was little he could do. He was only the First Ranger of the Night's Watch, while Catelyn was the Lady of Winterfell."Can you take me with you when you leave? If you ask Father, he'll say yes!" Jon's eyes lit up at the thought of freedom."Jon, the Night's Watch isn't what you think. We have no families—no wives, no children..." Benjen tried to warn him."I don't care. I'm ready, Uncle Benjen," Jon said firmly."You would care if you understood what it truly means... Now, I need to go inside and help your father. Think about it. If you still feel this way when I leave, I'll speak to your father for you."Benjen patted Jon's shoulder, then turned and walked toward the great hall.Jon watched him go, then turned back to the dummy—alone again, his face clouded with disappointment.Suddenly, a wineskin flew toward him. Jon reacted quickly, catching it."I didn't see you at the feast, so I figured you'd be here. Guess I was right," Owen said, stepping out of the shadows nearby. He held a large pouch of food in his hand."For you. Even if you're mad, you still need to eat," Owen added, holding up the pouch."Thank you, Owen," Jon said, his voice thick with emotion as he looked at the wineskin and the food."Well, isn't this touching?"Before Jon could say more, a mocking voice cut in.It was Tyrion Lannister—the Imp."How fascinating. A bastard, barred from the feast for no good reason, moping about and dreaming of joining the Night's Watch," Tyrion said, sipping wine from his own cup. He waddled over to Jon, craning his neck to look up at him.Jon's brief moment of warmth with Owen vanished instantly, soured by Tyrion's sharp tongue."Did I offend you, boy?" Tyrion asked, showing no remorse as Jon turned to leave."A word of advice: never forget what you are. The world won't. Wear it like armor, and it can never be used to hurt you," Tyrion said, his eyes fixed on Jon's stony face."You're not a bastard—you have no idea how it feels!" Jon snapped, angry now."Every dwarf is a bastard in his father's eyes," Tyrion said, unflinching as he acknowledged his own deformity.Clap. Clap. Clap.Owen stepped between them, applauding."Truly the Imp of Lannister. With just a few words, you stand taller than the Old Lion himself," Owen said, genuine admiration in his voice."I don't think a mere guardsman is entitled to judge the Old Lion of Lannister," Tyrion replied, eyeing Owen curiously."I see no harm in it. From what I hear, even the whores in King's Landing' Flea Bottom gossip about our 'charming' king—and they're still breathing," Owen said, unfazed."Ah, but those gossips in Flea Bottom speak the truth," Tyrion said, shrugging."So do I," Owen replied, smiling."Intriguing. What's your name?" Tyrion asked."Owen Reed.""I'll remember you, Owen Reed—guard of Winterfell," Tyrion said, his eyes glinting with meaning."Boy—if you do end up joining the Night's Watch, send me a raven. I'd love to see the edge of the world... and maybe take a piss on the Wall," Tyrion said, turning back to Jon. He waved at both of them, then waddled toward the great hall."If you really want to join the Night's Watch, go. Maybe you'll find something different for yourself up there," Owen said, clapping Jon on the shoulder."Come on—I didn't eat much earlier. I'm still hungry," Owen added, following Tyrion toward the hall.Inside the great hall, Robert—crown askew—was embracing one of Winterfell's kitchen maids. Cersei and Catelyn sat at the high table, chatting idly.Eddard, having just spoken with Benjen, turned to leave the hall for some fresh air. He'd never been comfortable at such rowdy feasts.But someone clearly didn't want him to go."Move aside," Eddard said, staring at Jaime Lannister, who blocked his path."I hear you're the new Hand of the King," Jaime said, not budging."It is the king's honor to bestow," Eddard replied."Then why not make the most of it? Hold a tournament here, to celebrate your appointment," Jaime suggested."And I think it would be entertaining to cross swords with you," he added, his tone sharp with challenge.Eyes had turned to them now—especially the Stark guards and the Lannister redcloaks. Sensing the tension, both groups began to gather around.Owen was among them. He knew Eddard would never fight—but the Lannisters clearly had no intention of letting this go.