KING'S LANDING
A tournament was being held to celebrate Joffrey's nameday. The Hound was currently fighting a knight, both of them armed with maces and shields. Joffrey, Alerya, Sansa, the Royal Court and noble citizens were watching the spectacle.
The Hound blocked the knight's block, swinging his mace before hitting him with his shield. Then he hit the knight's shield with his mace two times and the knight tried to hit the Hound, but he dodged the mace and knocked the shield out of the knight's hand. The knight hit the Hound's helmet, causing him to swing his mace in retaliation. The blow was strong enough to push the knight over the edge and fall to the ground below.
The spectators cheered and applauded.
"Well struck," Joffrey commented. "Well struck, dog."
The Hound removed his helmet.
Joffrey looked at Sansa. "Did you like that?"
"It was well struck, Your Grace," Sansa said.
"I already said it was well struck," Joffrey told her.
"Yes, Your Grace," Sansa replied, looking away.
Joffrey turned his head away, watching as the dead knight's body was dragged away, his blood staining the ground. "Who's next?"
"Lothor Brune, freerider in the service of Lord Baelish," the Herald announced. Lother Brune walked out. "Ser Dontos the Red of House Hollard." There was silence as people waited for the knight to appear. "Ser Dontos the Red of House Hollard."
"Here I am," Ser Dontos said, hurrying down some stairs. "Here I am." Ser Dontos dropped his helmet and quickly picked it up, putting it on his head. "Sorry, Your Grace. My deepest apologies."
"Are you drunk?" Joffrey asked.
"No," Ser Dontos answered, lying. "No. No, Your Grace. I had two cups of wine."
"Two cups?" Joffrey repeated. "That's not much at all. Please, have another cup."
"Are you sure, Your Grace?" Ser Dontos asked.
"Yes," Joffrey answered. "To celebrate my nameday. Have two. Have as much as you like."
Ser Dontos nodded. "I would be honoured, Your Grace."
"Ser Meryn, help Ser Dontos celebrate my nameday," Joffrey instructed. "See that he drinks his fill."
Ser Meryn approached Ser Dontos, hitting him and three members of the Kingsguard grabbed him, making him kneel on the ground.
Joffrey sat down next to Sansa.
Kingsguardman 1 held Ser Dontos' arms, restraining him while Ser Meryn forced a horn into his mouth and Kingsguardman 2 poured a barrel of wine into the horn, making him gurgle from the excessive amount.
"You can't," Sansa protested.
Joffrey looked at her. "What did you say?" Sansa looked at him, uneasy. "Did you say I can't?"
"I only meant it would be bad luck to kill a man on your nameday," Sansa said.
"What kind of stupid peasant's superstition--" Joffrey started.
"The girl is right," The Hound told him. "What a man sows on his nameday, he reaps all year."
Joffrey sighed. "Take him away. I'll have him killed tomorrow, the fool."
The Kingsguardmen stopped at Joffrey's command and Ser Dontos vomited, making Joffrey laugh.
"He is a fool," Alerya told him. "You're so clever to see it. He'll make a much better fool than a knight. He doesn't deserve the mercy of a quick death."
"Did you hear Lady Stark, Ser Dontos?" Joffrey asked, standing. "From this day, you'll be my new fool."
Ser Dontos bowed his head. "Thank you, Your Grace. And you, my lady, thank you."
"Beloved nephew," Tyrion called out as he and Bronn walked closer. "We looked for you on the battlefield." Joffrey sat down. "You were nowhere to be found."
"I've been here, ruling the kingdoms," Joffrey told him.
"What a fine job you've down," Tyrion said. He looked at Myrcella. "Look at you." He gave his niece a kiss on the cheek. "More beautiful than ever." He looked at Tommen. "And you! You're going to be bigger than the Hound, but much better looking. This one doesn't like me."
"Can't imagine why," Bronn expressed.
"We heard you were dead," Joffrey stated.
"I'm glad you're not dead," Myrcella told him.
"Me, too, dear," Tyrion agreed. "Death is so boring, especially now with so much excitement in the world." His gaze finally fell on Alerya and Sansa. "My ladies, I'm sorry for your loss."
"Their loss?" Joffrey repeated. "Their father was a confessed traitor."
"But still their father," Tyrion told him. "Surely, having so recently lost your own beloved father, you can sympathise."
"Our father was a traitor," Alerya said, playing her role. "Our mother and brother are traitors too. My sister is loyal to her beloved Joffrey and I am loyal to her."
"Of course you are," Tyrion replied. "Well, enjoy your nameday, Your Grace. Wish I could stay and celebrate, but there is work to be done."
Joffrey turned, watching his uncle walk away. "What work? Why are you here?"
>*~*<
The Small Council and Cersei were having a meeting.
A man walked in, holding a covered bird cage.
"A raven arrived from the Citadel this morning, Your Grace," Pycelle informed her. The man set the cage down on the table in front of the Queen and removed the cloth, revealing a white raven inside. "The conclave has met, considered reports from maesters all over the Seven Kingdoms, and declared this great summer done at last. The longest summer in living memory."
"Well, the peasants say, a long summer means an even longer winter," Varys said.
"A common superstition," Pycelle replied.
"We have enough wheat for a five-year winter," Littlefinger told them. "If it lasts any longer, we'll have fewer peasants."
Lord Janos Slynt spoke up. "The city's drowning in refugees, Your Grace, fleeing the war. We have nowhere to house them. And with winter coming, it'll only get worse."
Cersei gestured for the man to take away the white raven. "You command the City Watch, do you not, Lord Slynt?"
The man did as commanded, taking the bird cage and leaving.
"I do, Your Grace," Slynt affirmed.
"And are you not a lord at my command?" Cersei asked.
"I owe my title and lands to your generosity, Your Grace," Slynt answered.
"Then do your job," Cersei told him. "Shut the gates to the peasants. They belong in the field, not our capital."
"Yes, Your Grace," Slynt nodded.
Tyrion walked in, whistling.
Everyone looked at him.
"Don't get up," Tyrion told them. "More ravishing than ever, big sister." Cersei looked away as he gave her a kiss on the cheek. "War agrees with you." He walked around the other side of the table. "Forgive the interruption. Carry on."
"What are you doing here?" Cersei asked.
Tyrion sat down. "It's been a remarkable journey. I pissed off the edge of the Wall, I slept in a sky cell, I fought with the Hill Tribes." He poured himself a glass of wine. "So many adventures, so much to be thankful for."
Tyrion had a drink.
"What are you doing here?" Cersei repeated, firmly. "This is the Small Council."
"Yes, well, I do believe the Hand of the King is welcome at all Small Council meetings," Tyrion said.
"Our father is Hand of the King," Cersei reminded him.
"Yes, but in his absence . . ." Tyrion trailed off, handing Varys a letter.
Varys read the letter written by Tywin. "Your father has named Lord Tyrion to serve as Hand in his stead while he fights."
Cersei rose to her feet in anger. "Out! All of you, out!"
Varys, Littlefinger, Pycelle and Slynt stood and bowed before leaving.
Cersei approached Tyrion. "I would like to know how you tricked Father into this."
"If I were capable of tricking Father, I'd be emperor of the world by now," Tyrion told her. Cersei sat down. "You brought this on yourself."
"I've done nothing," Cersei said.
"Quite right," Tyrion agreed. "You did nothing when your son called for Ned Stark's head. Now the entire North has risen up against us."
"I tried to stop it," Cersei told him.
"Did you?" Tyrion questioned. "You failed. That bit of theatre will haunt our family for a generation."
"Robb Stark is a child," Cersei said, blithely.
"Who's won every battle he's fought," Tyrion told her. "Do you understand we're losing the war?"
"What do you know about warfare?" Cersei asked.
"Nothing," Tyrion answered. "But I know people. And I know that our enemies hate each other almost as much as they hate us."
There was a moment of silence as the siblings stared at each other.
"Joffrey is king," Cersei told him.
"Joffrey is king," Tyrion repeated.
"You are here to advise him," Cersei added.
"I'm only here to advise him," Tyrion said. "And if the king listens to what I say, the king might just get his uncle Jaime back."
Cersei tried to conceal her reaction upon hearing her twin brother's name. "How?"
"You love your children," Tyrion expressed. "It's your one redeeming quality. That and your cheekbones. The Starks love their children as well. And we have three of them."
"Two," Cersei corrected.
"Two?" Tyrion asked in disbelief.
"Arya, little animal, she disappeared," Cersei informed him.
"Disappeared?" Tyrion asked. "What, in a puff of smoke? We had four Starks to trade. You chopped one's head off and let another escape. Father will be furious. It must be odd for you to be the disappointing child."
Tyrion smirked, slightly as he drank more wine.
Cersei looked down in concern.
>*~*<
WINTERFELL
Bran was sitting in the Great Hall, carrying out his duty as Lord of Winterfell by listening to the troubles of men loyal to House Stark.
A man named Leadranach stood before him. "My lord, may the old gods watch over your brother and all our Northern sons. The walls of my holdfast will not stand the winter. The stones were last mortared in the time of King Aerys, and I'm afraid the masons today are not fit to carry their fathers' hammers. When I was a boy, I remember seeing them put up a new tower at Torrhen's Square in a summer. Men worked back then. Today, my holdfast looks like it was built by drunk children. At night, you can hear the wind howling through the gaps. Gods forbid it rains. Why, I might as well sleep beneath a waterfall."
Maester Luwin spoke up. "Maintenance of a holdfast generally falls to the lord of that holdfast."
"Generally, yes," Leadranach agreed. "But I've sent all the young men off to fight Robb Stark's war."
"King Robb," Bran corrected. "And it's not his war. He didn't choose it."
"Maybe not, my lord," Leadranach said. "But he called in his banners and took the men."
"Joffrey killed my father," Bran told him. "Your liege lord. Do you remember your vows, ser?"
"Of course I remember!" Leadranach replied, outraged.
"We can spare four masons for a week, my lord," Maester Luwin told him. "Will that be sufficient to repair your walls?"
"I believe it will," Leadranach said before leaving.
Bran looked at the maester.
"We didn't want him here all day, did we?" Maester Luwin asked.
"I didn't like the way he was talking about Robb," Bran expressed.
"Nor did I," Maester Luwin agreed. "But listening to people you'd rather not listen to is one of your responsibilities as Lord of Winterfell."
Bran sighed.
Another man stepped forward.
"Lord Portan," Maester Luwin greeted him.
"My lord, may the old gods watch over your brother and all our Northern sons," Lord Portan said.
>*~*<
KING'S LANDING
Alerya was having a dream of running through the woods, she could hear cawing and looked up into the sky, seeing a red comet in the sky. Looking away, she approached a pond and she looked at the water, she didn't see her own reflection, but that of her direwolf Lyanna.
Alerya woke up and sighed, wondering where her beloved direwolf was at this very moment and prayed to the gods that she was safe.
>*~*<
WINTERFELL
Hodor walked through the godswood, carrying Bran on his back. Osha was walking a few paces ahead of them. She knelt down in front of a plant to gather a medicinal ingredient.
"Boil this for an hour and drink the tea," Osha said, standing. "Makes all your pain go away."
"Don't have any pain," Bran told her.
"Lucky for you," Osha replied.
"That way," Bran instructed.
Hodor walked towards the pond near the weirwood tree.
"You've been having those dreams again," Osha stated.
"I don't dream," Bran said.
"Everyone dreams," Osha told him.
"I don't," Bran replied. "Heard some of the men talking about the comet." The red comet was soaring through the sky above. "They say it's an omen. They say it means Robb will win a great victory in the South."
"Did they?" Osha asked. Hodor knelt in front of the pond and Osha unfastened Bran's harness. "I heard some other fools say it's Lannister Red. Means the Lannisters will rule all Seven Kingdoms before long. Heard a stable boy say it's the colour of blood, to mark the death of your father." She grabbed Bran and laid him on the ground. "The stars don't fall for men. Red comet means one thing, boy. Dragons."
Bran crawled towards the pond, looking at his reflection in the water. "The dragons are all dead. They've been dead for centuries."
Bran moved his hand through the pond water, causing it to ripple.
Osha looked up at the red comet.
>*~*<
THE RED WASTE
The red comet was soaring over Rhaenyra, Daenerys, Jorah and the remaining Dothraki as they walked across an endless wasteland.
One of Rhaenyra's dragons, Drogon - named after her deceased husband - shrieked as he stood on his mother's shoulder.
Rhaenyra held a piece of meat and tried to coax him into eating it. "Mmm. Mmm. Mmm."
Drogon wasn't interested in the meat.
Doreah was walking behind Rhaenyra. "What did your brother say about them, Khaleesi?"
"He said they ate meat," Rhaenyra told her.
"He didn't tell you what kind of meat?" Doreah asked.
Rhaenyra shook her head.
"Our brother didn't know anything about dragons," Daenerys told her. "He didn't know anything about anything."
Rhaenyra held out her other hand and Drogon climbed onto her palm. "Eh."
A Dothraki carrying Drogon's abode came to a halt and Rhaenyra opened the door, letting Drogon go inside.
Up ahead, Silver whinnied as she collapsed to the ground. Jorah rushed to check on the steed.
Rhaenyra saw what had happened and ran towards them.
Daenerys closed the door to Drogon's abode and watched in concern.
Rhaenyra knelt down, looking Silver over and turned towards Jorah.
Jorah shook his head, signalling that Silver had perished from exhaustion.
Rhaenyra looked down in sadness. "She was Drogo's first gift to me."
"I remember," Jorah said.
"I promised to protect them," Rhaenyra told him. "Promised them their enemies would die screaming. How do I make starvation scream?"
"A trick I never learned, I'm afraid," Jorah replied.
Rhaenyra looked around. "Does it ever end?"
"This is further east than I've ever been," Jorah informed her. "But yes, Khaleesi, everything ends, even the Red Waste."
"And you're sure there's no other way?" Rhaenyra asked.
"If we go south to the land of the Lhazareen, the Lamb Men will kill us and take your dragons," Jorah answered. "If we go west to the Dothraki Sea, the first khalasar we meet will kill us and take your dragons."
Rhaenyra shook her head. "No one will take my dragons."
"They are too weak to fight," Jorah told her. "As are your people. You must be their strength."
Rhaenyra looked at him. "As you are mine. Zhey qoy qoyi! [Blood of my blood!]" She stood as her bloodriders, Rakharo, Aggo, and Kovarro approached. "Zhey Rakharo, zhey Aggo, zhey Kovarro. Fichi hrazef zinayi kishi ayer. Ma yer adothrae tith; ma yer heshtith; ma yer valshtith. [Rakharo, Aggo, Kovarro. Take our remaining horses. You will ride east, you south east, and you northeast]."
"Fin kisha fonoki, zhey khaleesi? [What do we seek, Khaleesi]?" Rakharo asked.
"Vaes, che thiri che drivi. Ma verakasaris ma voji. Che ashefaes che tozaraes che Havazzhife Zhokwa. Ezo athchilar Athasaroon Virzetha hatif kishi, ma reki vekha yomme moon. [Cities, living or dead. Caravans and people. Rovers or lakes or the Great Salt Sea. Find out how far the Red Waste extends before us, and what lies on the other side]," Rhaenyra answered.
"Varanno, gwe. [Right away. Let's go]," Rakharo said, looking at Aggo and Kovarro.
The bloodriders walked away to get ready to leave.
Rakharo approached his horse, petting its nose.
Rhaenyra walked closer. "Rakharo. Yer athzalar nakhoki anni, zhey qoy qoyi. [Rakharo. You are my last hope, blood of my blood]."
"Anha vos oziyenek shafkea, zhey qoy qoyi. [I will not fail you, blood of my blood]," Rakharo said.
"You never have," Rhaenyra told him.
"This is bad time to start," Rakharo said, speaking in the Common Tongue.
Rhaenyra gave him a smile and watched as her bloodriders mounted their horses and rode off into seperate directions of the Red Waste.
Daenerys looked up into the sky, staring at the red comet.
>*~*<
BEYOND THE WALL
The Night's Watch were travelling through the woods on their horses, heading towards Craster's Keep
Jon looked at Sam. "Having a rough time of it?"
"Nothing's killed me yet," Sam said.
"Your arse killed the sledge," Grenn told him.
"You offered me a ride," Sam replied.
"I just wanted you to shut up about your damn blisters," Grenn said.
Jon dismounted his horse and walked through the front gate of Craster's Keep.
Eddison Tollet stood next to him. "I was born in a place like this." Jon looked at him. "Later, I fell on hard times."
Sam looked at Craster's wives and daughters. "Are those girls?"
"Craster's daughters," Edd told him.
"I haven't seen a girl in six months," Sam said.
"I'd keep on not seeing them if I were you," Edd advised.
"What, he don't like people messing with his daughters?" Grenn asked.
"He don't like people messing with his wives," Edd answered. Jon, Sam and Grenn looked at him in shock. "He marries his daughters, and they give him more daughters. And on and on it goes."
"That's foul," Sam said, disgusted.
"It's beyond foul," Grenn expressed.
"All the other wildlings for a hundred leagues have disappeared," Edd informed them. "Craster's still here. He must be doing something right."
Edd walked away.
"What happens to the boys?" Jon wondered.
Sam looked at him. "Hmm?"
"He marries his daughters," Jon said. "What does he do with his sons?"
>*~*<
Mormont was sitting inside with Craster, warming his hands on the fire.
"He said he planned to stop here on his way to the Frostfangs," Mormont said, talking about Benjen.
"People make all sorts of plans," Craster replied. "I haven't seen Benjen Stark in three years. Haven't missed him." Jon walked in. "Always treated me like scum. Haven't had any good wine for a long time. You Southerners make good wine, I'll give you that."
"We're not Southerners," Jon told him.
Craster looked at him. "Who's this little girl? You're prettier than half my daughters. You got a nice wet twat between your legs? What's your name?"
"Jon Snow," Jon introduced himself.
"Snow, eh?" Craster said. "Listen to me, bastard. All you lot from south of the Wall, you're Southerners. But now you're in the North, the real North."
"The lad meant no harm," Mormont told him.
Craster looked at the Lord Commander. "I catch that pretty little bastard talking to my daughters . . ."
"No one will talk to your daughters," Mormont assured him. "You have my word." He glanced at Jon. "Now, sit down and shut your mouth."
Jon did as he was told.
Craster drank, emptying his cup. "You bring any of that good wine with you?"
"We did," Mormont said. "We passed through six villages on the way here. All six were abandoned. Where have all the wildlings gone?"
"I could tell you, but I'm thirsty," Craster stated.
"There's a barrel of Dornish wine on the sledge," Mormont told one of his men. "Bring it in here."
"Yes, Commander," A Night's Watchman said, leaving.
"You want to know where they've all gone?" Craster asked. "North, to join up with Mance Rayder. Your old friend."
"He's no friend of mine," Mormont answered. "He broke his vows, betrayed his brothers."
"Aye," Craster agreed. "But once he was just a poor black crow and now he's King-beyond-the-Wall."
Mormont nodded, barely. "He's been calling himself that for years. What's he king of? A frozen lake somewhere?"
Craster pointed to the Night's Watchman sitting next to Mormont. "That's a good-looking axe. Fresh forged?"
Mormont held out his hand. "Give it here. You'll have another made at castle Black." He handed the axe to Craster. "Here."
Craster examined the axe. "That's some lovely steel." He swung it into the ground. "You want to know what Mance Rayder is doing? Gathering an army. What I hear, he's already got more than any of your Southern Kings."
"And where does he plan marching this army?" Mormont asked.
"When you're all the way north, there's only one direction to go," Craster answered.
"These are bad times to be living alone in the wild," Mormont expressed. "The cold winds are rising."
"Let them come," Craster said. "My roots are sunk deep." He grabbed one of his daughters, Gilly. "Wife, tell the Lord Crow how content we are."
"This is our place," Gilly said. "Our husband keeps us safe. Better to live free than die a slave."
Jon watched Gilly walk away.
"Don't it make you jealous, old man?" Craster asked. "To see me with all of these young wives and you with no one to warm your bed?"
"We chose different paths," Mormont answered.
"Oh, aye, and you chose the path with no one but boys on it," Craster told him, standing. "You'll be wanting to sleep beneath my roof, I suppose and eat me out of pigs."
Mormont stood. "A roof would be welcome. It's been hard riding. We've brought our own food and good steel for you."
Craster nodded, looking around at the men of the Night's Watch. "Any man lays a hand on one of my wives, he loses the hand." He looked at Jon. "And I see this one staring too long, I might just gouge his eyes out."
"Your roof, your rules," Mormont said.
Mormont started to leave, walking outside and all his men followed, including Jon.
>*~*<
Mormont grabbed Jon, pushing him against a beam. "Who am I?" Jon didn't answer. "Who am I?"
"Lord Commander," Jon said.
"And who are you?" Mormont asked.
"Jon Snow," Jon answered.
"Who are you?" Mormont repeated.
"Your steward," Jon stated.
"You want to lead one day?" Mormont asked. Jon nodded. "Then learn how to follow."
Mormont stepped back and walked away.
>*~*<
DRAGONSTONE
The red comet was seen in the sky.
Maester Cressen carried a torch and panted as he ran towards a gathering on the beach.
Stannis Baratheon, his wife Selyse Florent, Ser Davos Seaworth, Davos' son Matthos and men loyal to House Baratheon watched as a Red Priestess named Melisandre performed a ritual that required the statues of the Seven-faced God to be burned.
"Lord of Light, come to us in our darkness," Melisandre expressed. "We offer you these false gods. Take them and cast your light upon us, for the night is dark and full of terrors."
"For the night is dark and full of terrors," Stannis's men chanted.
Maester Cressen gave his torch to a knight and stood next to Ser Davos, horrified by what he saw.
"After the long summer, darkness will fall heavy on the world," Melisandre continued. "The stars will bleed."
Maester Cressen looked at Ser Davos. "We need to stop her."
Ser Davos glanced at Stannis.
"The cold breath of winter will freeze the seas . . ." Melisandre said.
"Not now," Ser Davos said, looking down.
". . . and the dead shall rise in the North," Melisandre concluded.
Maester Cressen stepped out to address everyone. "All of you men were named in the light of the Seven! Is this how you treat the gods of your fathers? Are you so eager to spit on your ancestors?"
Everyone was silent.
Melisandre looked at the Maester. "You smell of fear." She touched his face, caressing his cheek with her thumb. "Fear and piss and old bones. Do you want to stop me?" Melisandre walked around him. "Stop me."
The Maester sighed, walking away.
"In the ancient books, it's written that a warrior will draw a burning sword from the fire," Melisandre stated. "And that sword shall be Lightbringer. Stannis Baratheon, Warrior of Light, your sword awaits you."
Stannis walked towards one of the statues and pulls out the burning sword impaling it. His men cheer. Stannis stabs the sword into the sand and all his men kneel.
"Lord, cast your light upon us!" Everyone chorused,
Melisandre smiled. "For the night is dark and full of terrors."
Melisandre looked at Stannis.
"For the night is dark and full of terror," Stannis repeated.
Stannis, Selyse, Melisandre and Stannis' men walked away, leaving Maester Cressen and Ser Davos alone on the beach.
"This woman will lead him into a war he cannot win," Maester Cressen stated.
"Stannis is our king," Ser Davos told him. "We follow where he leads, even if we don't like the path."
"King," Maester Cressen said. "Since that boar killed his brother, every lord wants a coronation."
"I don't serve the others," Ser Davos replied. "I serve Stannis."
"As do I," Maester Cressen expressed. "But loyal service means telling hard truths. He's surrounded by fools and fanatics." Davos grabbed Stannis's sword. "But he trusts you, Davos. If you tell him the truth . . ."
"What's the truth?" Ser Davos asked.
Ser Davos walked away.
Maester Cressen realised he will have to deal with Melisandre himself as he stared at the burning statue before him.
>*~*<
Stannis, Melisandre, Ser Davos, Maester Cressen, and Davos' son Matthos were sitting around a table shaped like a map of Westeros.
Matthos was writing the letter he had written for Stannis aloud. "'And I declare upon the honour of my house that my beloved brother Robert--'"
Stannis cut him off. "He wasn't my beloved brother." Matthos looked up. "I didn't love him. He didn't love me."
"A harmless courtesy, Your Grace," Ser Davos said.
"A lie," Stannis told him. "Take it out."
Matthos crossed out the word 'beloved', continuing to read. "'That my brother Robert left no trueborn heirs, the boy Joffrey, the boy Tommen, and the girl Myrcella being born of incest between Cersei Lannister and her brother Jaime Lannister. By right of birth--'"
"Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer," Stannis corrected. "Call him what he is."
Matthos rewrote the letter as requested. "'And her brother Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer'." Davos watched Maester Cressen spike a goblet of wine. "'By right of birth and blood, I do this day lay claim--'"
"Make it Ser Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer," Stannis said. "Whatever else he is, the man's still a knight."
Matthos wrote in the correct title. "'Ser Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer. By right of birth and blood, I do this day lay claim to the Iron Throne of Westeros. Let all true men declare their loyalty'."
"When Eddard Stark learned the truth, he told only me,' Stannis expressed. "I'll not make the same mistake. Send copies of that letter to every corner of the realm from the Arbor to the Wall. The time has come to choose. Let no man claim ignorance as an excuse."
Ser Davos spoke up. "Your Grace, the Lannisters are the true enemy. If, for the time being, you could make peace with your brother . . ."
"I'll not make peace with Renly while he calls himself king," Stannis stated.
"Well, many have already declared for him," Ser Davos told him. "Mace Tyrell, Randyll Tarly."
"Stannis does not need to beg this lord or that lord for support," Melisandre said. "The Lord of Light stands behind him."
"And how many ships has the Lord of Light got in his fleet?" Ser Davos asked.
"He has no need for ships," Melisandre answered.
"I'm sure he doesn't," Ser Davos said. "But we do if we're going to war. If not Renly, Your Grace join forces with Robb Stark."
Stannis looked at him. "Who would steal the northern half of my kingdom. I've always served thieves according to their desserts, as you well know, Ser Davos. Joffrey, Renly, Robb Stark, they're all thieves. They'll bend the knee or I'll destroy them."
Maester Cressen stood. "I owe you an apology, my king. My duty is to serve. You have chosen the new god over the old gods. May the Lord of Light watch over us all. Shall we drink together?"
"Don't," Ser Davos murmured.
Maester Cressen touched Ser Davos' shoulder as he walked past. "A cup of wine to honour the one true god."
Maester Cressen appraoched Melisandre.
Melisandre stood, facing him.
Everyone picked up their goblets.
Maester Cressen drank some wine before handing his goblet to Melisandre. The poison started to take effect, making him grab the table to steady himself as blood trickled from his nose and mouth.
Melisandre drank the wine, but was unaffected.
Maester Cressen collapsed, causing everyone to stand in alarm.
"The night is dark and full of terrors, old man," Melisandre said, staring down at Maester Cressen's body and seeing him lying in a pool of his own blood. "But the fire burns them all away."
The jewel on Melisandre's necklace glowed as magic eradicated the poison in her system.
>*~*<
THE RIVERLANDS
The Northern Army had set up camp, the bannermen holding up the banner of House Stark and other noble Houses. One of the bannermen was standing atop a tall lookout with his helmet and shield hanging over the front of the wooden structure, the iron shield was adorned with a direwolf. Behind him, the camp was full of tents and numerous fire pits.
Robb Stark was walking through the camp, heading towards Jaime Lannister's prison cell. A guard unlocked the cell, allowing him to enter.
Jaime was sitting on the ground, his hands bound behind him around a wooden post and his skin was covered in dirt due to his captivity.
Jaime raised his head. "I keep expecting you to leave me in one castle or another for safekeeping, but you drag me along from camp to camp. Have you grown fond of me, Stark? Is that it? I've never seen you with a girl."
"If I left you with one of my bannermen, your father would know within a fortnight and my bannerman would receive a raven with a message, 'Release my son and you'll be rich beyond your dreams. Refuse and your House will be destroyed, root and stem'."
"You don't trust the loyalty of the men following you into battle?" Jaime asked.
"Oh, I trust them with my life," Robb answered. "Just not with yours."
"Smart boy," Jaime said. "What's wrong? Don't like being called 'boy'? Insulted?"
Robb looked outside the cell.
His direwolf, Grey Wind could be heard snarling.
Jaime looked around, nervous.
"You insult yourself, Kingslayer," Robb told him. "You've been defeated by a boy. You're held captive by a boy." Jaime saw Grey Wind approaching, walking just outside the cell. "Perhaps you'll be killed by a boy."
Grey Wind walked into the cell, standing next to Robb. He had grown to a massive size, the direwolf was now over half the size of a grown man.
"Stannis Baratheon sent ravens to all the high lords of Westeros," Robb informed him. "King Joffrey Baratheon is neither a true king nor a true Baratheon. He's your bastard son."
"If that's true, Stannis is the rightful king," Jaime stated. "How convenient for him."
Robb laid his hand on Grey Wind. "My father learned the truth. That's why you had him executed."
"I was your prisoner when Ned Stark lost his head," Jaime reminded him.
"Your son killed him so the world wouldn't learn who fathered him," Robb said. "And you, you pushed my brother from a window because he saw you with the queen."
"You have proof?" Jaime questioned. "Or do you want to trade gossip like a couple of fishwives?"
"I'm sending one of your cousins down to King's Landing with my peace terms," Robb told him.
"You think my father's going to negotiate with you?" Jaime asked. "You don't know him very well."
"No, but he's starting to know me," Robb answered.
"Three victories don't make you a conqueror," Jaime told him.
"It's better than three defeats," Robb replied.
Robb pushed Grey Wind slightly as he turned to leave the cell, granting the direwolf permission to approach Jaime.
Jaime closed his eyes in fear as Grey Wolf growled in his face. After a moment, he opened his eyes and saw both Robb and Grey Wind were gone.
>*~*<
KING'S LANDING
Shae was standing on the balcony of the Tower of the Hand, smelling the air.
"This city stinks," Shae said. "Like dead bodies."
Tyrion was inside. "A bit corpsey, yes."
"And shit," Shae added.
"I thought you wanted to come here," Tyrion said.
"I love it," Shae told him, walking inside.
"You love the smell of dead bodies and shit?" Tyrion questioned.
Shae turned around. "And cum and garlic and rum."
"You can smell cum from the balcony?" Tyrion asked.
"I love the stink," Shae answered. "I love the noise. Cities make me want to fuck."
"And so did the country," Tyrion told her.
Shae laid down on the bed, sighing in delight. "This is where I belong."
Tyrion looked at her. "Yes, well, you need to be careful. No one can know you're here."
"No one will know," Shae assured him.
"You can't trust anyone in King's Landing," Tyrion said. "They're all liars, good liars, bad liars." Shae rolled onto her stomach, looking at him. "One or two great liars."
"What about you?" Shae asked.
"Me? I'm not from here," Tyrion answered. "I'm a slave to the truth."
Shae laughed. "Truth? You're the biggest little liar I have ever met."
Tyrion stood up onto a step next to the bed, putting his hands on his hips. "Why do you think I am so little? I'm being crushed beneath the weight of all that truth." He leaned on the bed, holding Shae's hands before they both rolled onto their backs. "Ned Stark actually slept on this. As if the poor man didn't suffer enough. One of the many changes we'll have to make around here."
Tyrion and Shae shared a kiss as a bell could be heard ringing in the distance.
>*~*<
Littlefinger was walking around a courtyard in the castle.
Cersei and a few Lannister guards approached him.
"Lord Baelish," Cersei called out.
Littlefinger turned around, bowing. "Your Grace."
"I wonder if I might ask you for a favour," Cersei inquired.
"Of course, Your Grace," Littlefinger said.
"Ned Stark's youngest daughter Arya," Cersei expressed. "We can't seem to locate her."
"If she's escaped the capital, Winterfell seems the logical destination," Littlefinger stated.
"And yet my friends in the North report no sign of her," Cersei told him.
"Curious," Littlefinger expressed.
"If we choose to negotiate with the Starks, the girl has some value," Cersei said. "Whoever finds her . . . Well, you know what they say about Lannisters and debts."
"Well, you could ask Varys where she is," Littlefinger suggested. "He'll have an answer for you. Whether you believe it . . . Myself, I have always had a hard time trusting eunuchs. Who knows what they want?"
Cersei chuckled, slightly and touched the silver pin adorning Littlefinger's collar. "A mockingbird. You created your own sigil, didn't you?"
"Yes," Littlefinger told her.
"Appropriate, for a self-made man with so many songs to sing," Cersei acknowledged.
"I'm glad you like it," Littlefinger said. "Some people are fortunate enough to be born into the right family. Others have to find their own way."
"I heard a song once about a boy of modest means who found his way into the home of a very prominent family," Cersei told him. "He loved the eldest daughter. Sadly, she had eyes for another."
"When boys and girls live in the same home, awkward situations can arise," Littlefinger replied. "Sometimes, I've heard even brothers and sisters develop certain affections. And when those affections become common knowledge, well, that is an awkward situation indeed, especially in a prominent family. But prominent families often forget a simple truth, I've found."
"And which truth is that?" Cersei asked.
"Knowledge is power," Littlefinger answered.
"Seize him," Cersei commanded. The four Lannister guards instantly grabbed Littlefinger, restraining him on all sides. "Cut his throat." One of the guards pulled out a dagger, pressing it against Littlefinger's throat. "Stop. Wait. I've changed my mind. Let him go."
The guards released Littlefinger, obediently.
"Step back three paces," Cersei ordered. The guards obliged, stepping back. "Turn around." The guards turned around. "Close your eyes."
Littlefinger looked around at the guards, before looking at the queen.
Cersei walked closer. "Power is power. Do see if you can take some time away from your coins and your whores to locate the Stark girl for me. I would very much appreciate it."
Cersei walked away and the Lannister guards followed.
A servant boy scrubbing the ground, turned to look at Littlefinger before continuing his tasks.
>*~*<
THE RIVERLANDS
Robb was in his tent, sitting at a table with Ser Rodrik and Theon beside him. Jaime's cousin stood before him with two guards behind him.
"You're Ser Alton Lannister?" Robb asked.
Ser Alton nodded. "I am, Your Grace."
"I offer your cousins peace if they meet my terms," Robb told him. "First, your family must release my sisters. Second, my father's bones must be returned to us so he may rest beside his brother and sister in the crypts beneath Winterfell. And the remains of all those who died in his service must also be returned. Their families can honour them with proper funerals."
"An honourable request, Your Grace," Ser Alton said.
"Third, Joffrey and the Queen Regent must renounce all claim to dominion of the North," Robb added. "From this time till the end of time, we are a free and independent kingdom."
"The King in the North," Ser Rodrik said, looking at Robb, proudly.
"King in the North," Theon and Robb's men chorused.
"Neither Joffrey nor any of his men shall set foot in our lands again," Robb said. "If he disregards this command, he shall suffer the same fate as my father, only I don't need a servant to do my beheading for me."
"These are--" Ser Alton started. "Your Grace, these are--"
Robb stood. "These are my terms. If the Queen Regent and her son meet them, I'll give them peace. If not, I will litter the South with Lannister dead."
"King Joffrey is a Baratheon, Your Grace," Ser Alton stated.
"Oh, is he?" Robb replied. "You'll ride at daybreak, Ser Alton. That will be all for tonight."
The guards led Ser Alton out of the tent and Robb's men followed. Theon was the only one who stayed behind.
Theon drank his wine before standing and approaching Robb.
"A word, Your Grace?" Theon requested.
Robb looked at him. "You don't have to call me 'Your Grace' when no one's around."
"It's not so bad once you get used to it," Theon expressed.
"I'm glad someone's gotten used to it," Robb said.
"The Lannisters are going to reject your terms, you know?" Theon told him.
"Of course they are," Robb replied.
"We can fight them in the fields as long as you like," Theon said. "But we won't beat them until you take King's Landing. And we can't take King's Landing without ships. My father has ships and men who know how to sail them."
"Men who fought my father," Robb reminded him.
"Men who fought King Robert to free themselves from the yoke of the South, just like you're doing now," Theon justified. "I'm his only living son. He'll listen to me. I know he will. I'm not a Stark. I know that. But your father raised me to be an honourable man. We can avenge him together."
>*~*<
Robb had told his mother about Theon's proposition.
"You don't want Balon Greyjoy for an ally," Catelyn told him.
"I need his ships," Robb said. "They say he has 200."
"They say a million rats live in the sewers of King's Landing," Catelyn retorted. "Shall we rally them to fight for us?"
"I understand you don't trust Lord Greyjoy," Robb expressed.
"I don't trust Lord Greyjoy because he is not trustworthy," Catelyn explained. "Your father had to go to war to end his rebellion."
"Yes, and now I'm the one rebelling against the throne," Robb told her. "Before me, it was Father. You married one rebel and mothered another."
"I mothered more than just rebels," Catelyn replied. "A fact you seem to have forgotten."
"If I trade the Kingslayer for three girls, my bannermen will string me up by my feet," Robb stated.
"You want to leave Alerya and Sansa in the queen's hands?" Catelyn asked. "And Arya . . . I haven't heard a word about Arya. What are we fighting for, if not for them?"
Robb raised his voice. "It's more complicated than that! You know it is."
Catelyn knew Robb was right but she was conflicted between her concern over her daughters and how to counsel her son, who was now a king.
"It's time for me to go home," Catelyn told him. "I haven't seen Bran or Rickon in months."
"You can't go to Winterfell," Robb said.
"I beg your pardon?" Catelyn questioned.
"I'll send Rodrik to watch over the boys," Robb told her. "Because tomorrow, you'll ride south to the Stormlands."
"Why in the name of all the gods would you--" Catelyn started.
"Because I need you to negotiate with Renly Baratheon," Robb explained. "He's rallied an army of 100,000. You know him. You know his family."
Catelyn shook her head, standing. "I haven't seen Renly Baratheon since he was a boy. You have a hundred other lords--"
Robb stood, cutting her off. "Which of these lords do I trust more than you? If Renly sides with us, we'll outnumber them two to one. When they feel the jaws beginning to shut, they'll sue for peace. We'll get the girls back. Then we'll all go home, for good."
Catelyn considered for a moment before nodding in agreement. "I will ride at first light."
Relieved, Robb kissed his mother on the forehead. "We will all be together again soon, I promise."
Catelyn looked at her son. "You've done so well. Your father would be proud."
Sadness overtook Robb's features for a brief moment. "Give Lord Renly my regards."
"King Renly," Catelyn corrected. "There's a king in every corner now."
>*~*<
KING'S LANDING
Cersei entered the Red Keep, which was being renovated in accordance to Joffrey's preferences.
"What is all this?" Cersei asked.
"Returning to room to its proper appearance," Joffrey answered. "Say what you will about the Targaryens, they were conquerors. That is a seat for a conqueror. It needs a room to match it, not vines and flowers."
"We can't find Arya Stark," Cersei told him.
"With luck, she's dead in a ditch somewhere," Joffrey said.
"Perhaps," Cersei replied. "But if not, we need her. They'll never give Jaime back to us for Sansa and Alerya alone."
"I think they might," Joffrey told her. "They're weak. They put too much value on their women."
Joffrey walked towards the Iron Throne.
Cersei followed. "We need to set our armies to the task of finding her. Send out as many men as we can. I'm sure if you asked Grandfather--"
"A king does not ask, he commands," Joffrey said, cutting her off. "And my grandfather's stupidity in the field of battle is the reason Robb Stark has Uncle Jaime in the first place."
"His life is in danger," Cersei insisted.
Joffrey looked at her. "We're at war. All our lives are in danger. I heard a disgusting lie about Uncle Jaime. And you."
"Our enemies will say anything to weaken your claim to the throne," Cersei expressed.
"It's not a claim," Joffrey told her. "The throne is mine."
Cersei put on a smile. "Of course it is. No one believes this foul gossip."
"Someone believes it," Joffrey said. "Father had other children? Besides me and Tommen and Myrcella?"
"What are you asking?" Cersei inquired.
"I'm asking if he fucked other women when he grew tired of you," Joffrey stated. "How many bastards does he have running--"
Cersei slapped Joffrey across the face.
All the workers stopped to stare at them.
Joffrey held his cheek, breathing heavily and when he looked towards the workers, they immediately resumed their tasks.
Cersei looked down, almost scared.
"What you just did is punishable by death," Joffrey told her. "You will never do it again. Never." He walked up the steps, leaving the Red Keep. "That will be all, Mother."
>*~*<
In the brothel, two prostitutes were having sex, the female was moaning loudly.
Ros was watching them. "No, no, no, no. Do you have any idea how ridiculous you sound? Ease into it. Slowly, with passion."
The prostitute did as commanded, moaning gently. "Oh, yeah."
"Go wash yourselves," Ros told them. "Put some clothes on. Both of you are working tonight."
Ros walked down a hallway, the newest member of the brothel followed her.
"We do things differently here, Daisy," Ros told her. "This isn't some five-copper bawdy house in Hayseed Hall."
"Haystack Hall," Daisy corrected.
"Wherever you're from," Ros said. "Our establishment doesn't cater to ploughmen and goat herders." She greeted one of the patrons. "Lord Olsen. Taste is everything here."
"Littlefinger's a fancy man," Daisy commented.
"Don't call him Littlefinger," Ros told her. "He doesn't like it. Lord Baelish." A prostitute led two lords out of the room, silently. "She pretends she doesn't speak the common tongue so that people will think she's exotic. She grew up just down the road in Flea Bottom."
"She's beautiful," Daisy said.
Ros shrugged. "She's a dumb slut, really, but a lid for every pot."
The City Watch suddenly walked in.
"Lord Commander," Ros said, looking at Slynt. "Good to see you again."
Slynt ignored her as his men dragged in a man, restraining him. He then snapped his fingers and the City Watchmen marched through the brothel, kicking in doors.
"You do realise this establishment is owned by Lord Petyr Baelish," Ros told him. "The King's Master of Coin. Coin which goes in many pockets."
"Orders," Slynt told her.
"Whose orders?" Ros asked, crossing her arms.
"Someone who doesn't care what Littlefinger thinks," Slynt answered.
Two City Watchmen walked closer, dragging out a prostitute - the same one Ned visited before his death - and she cried as she held her baby in her arms. The baby started to cry in distress.
Slynt looked at the man and the man nodded in confirmation. Slynt nodded and one of the City Watchmen approached the prostitute, taking the baby.
"No, you can't," the prostitute pleaded. "No! Please! No! Not my Barra! Please. Please!"
The City Watchmen pulled out his dagger.
"Enough," Slynt said. "Get it done. Kill the bastard."
The City Watchmen looked at his commander, conflicted.
"No, no!" The prostitute cried. "Please!"
"Give it here," Slynt said, taking out his own dagger as he approached the baby.
"No, please," the prostitute continued.
Slynt used the dagger to kill the baby, making the prostitute screamed in horror.
Once the deed was done, the City Watch left the brothel.
>*~*<
The City Watch had been commanded to search the capital for any bastard offspring of Robert Baratheon and dispose of them.
"Spread out," Slynt ordered. "Search every house. Every room. Look in every room."
A woman leaned against a wall, cradling her child protectively as the City Watch passed by her.
The City Watch barged into a house, killing a grown man believed to be a son of Robert.
A young boy was thrown into a river and drowned by a City Watchmen while his mother screamed in terror.
The City Watch held back a crowd of commoners who protested as a baby was taken away to be executed.
Slynt took off his helmet as he arrived at the blacksmith's workshop.
A City Watchman was holding the blacksmith's head above burning coals.
"Gendry!" The blacksmith said. "His name is Gendry."
"Where is the bastard?" Slynt asked.
"The Night's Watch!" The blacksmith answered. "Please, stop!"
"Where?" Slynt questioned.
"They took him up the Kingsroad, heading north," the blacksmith told them.
"How will we know him?" Slynt asked.
"He's got a bull's head helmet," the blacksmith answered. "He made it himself."
Slynt turned around, giving a command to his men. "Find him."
>*~*<
THE KINGSROAD
Gendry put his bag and bull's head helmet on the back of a cart before climbing up. He reached his hand out to help Arya onto the cart as well, who was disguised as a boy with her sword Needle tucked in her belt.
There were two carts travelling down the kingsroad as well as men and boys walking on foot, they were all bound for the Night Watch as they had been recruited by Yoren.