The Watchers On The Couch

Chapter 3: Lord Snow

Disclaimer: I do NOT own «Game of Thrones» or any of its characters.


Catelyn inhaled sharply. "H-he's awake… Bran's awake!" Her eyes were watering, tears of relief flooding down her dimpled cheeks.

Suddenly, it felt like a boulder had been lifted off the Stark family's shoulders. Bran's state of health had been weighing down on each of them heavily.

Ned slumped into his chair and exhaled in relief. "Thank the gods".

Robb and Jon's faces broke into grins. "I knew he would wake up!" Robb said and gave Jon a strong embrace.

"Aye, you Starks are hard to kill" Jon chuckled, equally elated.

Sansa went off to comfort their mother, tears of happiness welling in her eyes, while Arya hugged her father tightly.

Tyrion smiled at the heartfelt scene. He was truly happy for the Stark family. However, he couldn't help but find that his mind was drifting off to other matters. Now that the boy was awake, would he tell someone what caused his fall? Did he even remember? If the truth about Jaime and Cersei was to reach the ears of the other houses, it would cause an uproar. It would also be a huge black spot on the Lannister name, which couldn't be washed away no matter what, for centuries. No house would willingly marry off someone to a house that had tricked the realm and tried to seat an incestuous bastard child on the Iron Throne.

Tyrion's face turned grim. No, the future of house Lannister was not looking good.

As the screen started playing the next episode, each went to take their separate seats. Bran's new development creating a joyful atmosphere among the audience.


The smallfolk were bustling outside the gates of King's Landing, as they watched the new Hand and his family ride in through the gates.

Ned and Jory were riding at the front, while Arya and Sansa were seated in a carriage alongside Septa Mordane.

The Stark banners fluttered in the wind, and Ned go off his horse, a man briskly coming to meet him.

"So, you finally arrived, eh?" Bronn mused.

"Welcome, Lord Stark. Grand Maester Pycelle has called a meeting of the Small Council. The honor of your presence is requested" The guardsman spoke.
Ned turned to the Septa. "Get the girls settled in. I'll be back in time for supper. And, Jory, you go with them"

"Yes, my Lord"

The guardsman spoke up yet again. "If you'd like to change into something more appropriate…"

Ned gave the man a blank stare before taking his gloves off. The guard realized Ned's disinterest and the two began walking to the council chambers. First, they walked through the Great Hall, where the throne sits.

"Wow, it's so big and pretty" Sansa was in awe. She had always wanted to visit King's Landing.

"That's the Iron Throne!" Arya marveled.

Jaime Lannister was lingering in front of the throne.

"Thank the god you're here, Stark. About time we had some stern Northern leadership"

Ned snorted. This dishonorable fool wouldn't know honor even if someone hit him over the head with it.

"Glad to see that you're protecting the throne" Ned replied scathingly, but Jaime just took it in stride.

"Sturdy old thing. How many kings' asses have polished it, I wonder? Hm, what's the line? The king shits and the Hand wipes" Jaime's mouth curled upwards smugly.

"Well, it's kind of true" Bronn said.

Ned eyed the golden armor of the kingsguard. Looking brand new, it was both ornate and pristine. "Very handsome armor. Not a scratch on it"

"I know. People have been swinging at me for years, but they always seem to miss"

"You've chosen your opponent's wisely then"

Jaime's smug smile dropped. "I have a knack for it" He paused a little. "It must be strange for you coming into this room. I was standing right here when it happened. He was very brave, your brother. Your father too. They didn't deserve to die like that… Nobody deserves to die like that"

The viewers listened closely. For the Stark children, this was like experiencing a whole different side of their father. He was always kind in their presence and had never really shown any real hatred towards anyone.

Yet, the contempt was clear in his eyes when he eyed the Kingslayer.

"But you just stood there and watched" Ned shot back.

"500 men just stood there and watched. All the great knights of the Seven Kingdom. You think anyone said a word, lifted a finger? No, lord Stark. 500 men, and this room was as silent as a crypt. Except for the screams, of course, and the Mad King laughing. And later… When I watched the Mad King die, I remembered him laughing as your father burned"

Jaime leaned a bit closer to Ned, peering into Ned's dark brown orbs. "It felt like justice".

The viewers listened intently. Even though the stories about the Mad King's madness and cruelty was known all over the Seven Kingdoms, it was still an enrapturing tale.

Dany felt a sense of horror and disgust building in the pit of her stomach. There were people in this very room, that had experienced the plague that had been her father. The kind northern man, Eddard, had lost many loved ones because of her father.

She felt guilty and her view of her family was being shattered, more and more, as they continued watching these "episodes". Rheagar had started a war, her father was known as a madman, and now Viserys was following in their footsteps. Would she too, eventually, become like them?

She shook her head in denial. No, she would not let that happen, anything but that.

"Is that what you tell yourself at night?" Ned snorted mockingly. "You're a servant of justice? That you were avenging my father when you shoved your sword in Aerys Targaryen's back?"

"Tell me—" Jaime began. "if I'd stabbed the Mad King in the belly instead of the back, would you admire me more?"

"You served him well, when serving was safe" Ned replied and walked away, leaving Jaime alone in the throne room.

Tyrion watched the scene sadly. He knew of why his brother had done what he'd done.

One day, Jaime had just been unable to bear the scathing looks and whispers as he walked amongst the people. Pushed over the edge and unable to bottle up the truth anymore, he'd told Tyrion the entire story.

To say Tyrion had been flabbergasted would've been an understatement. A burden of that size was difficult to bear.

He'd been forced to swear never to tell anyone of what Jaime had told him that night, and even now, 17 years after the end of the rebellion, no one but him and Jaime knew of the truth of what had happened in that throne room.


Ned entered the council chambers.

Like all of the other rooms of the Red Keep, the council chambers were highly decorated, truly a sight to behold.

In the center stood a table, with a brown cloth with golden linings draped over it. Food and drinks in placed in golden utensils. The chairs surrounding the table were a work of true art. Complex markings engraved on the pristine wood and the leather having a crowned stag, the sign of the royal Baratheon, on it.

On the wall behind the table, was an enormous painting, of a battle most likely.

From one of the chairs, a man stood up to greet the new Hand.

"Lord Stark" He said and offered a hand in greeting.

"Lord Varys" Ned replied.

Dany's eyes widened. "He's the one they call the spider, isn't he? The spymaster?"

Ned looked to her a bit surprised. Not many knew of the man. He was meticulous and cunning, and no one really knew his true motives. "Aye, how do you know him?"

Dany looked down. "W-well… He's the one Viserys says is constantly sending his spies and assassins after us. He's the main reason we've had to move so often"

Ned's eyes narrowed a bit. Had Robert been the one to issue such an order? He's hatred for the Targaryen's was well know. He'd have to look into this later.

"I was grievously sorry to hear of your troubles on the Kingsroad. We are all praying for the prince Joffrey's full recovery" Varys said.

"It was barely a fleabite" Tormund scoffed.

"A shame you didn't say a prayer for the butcher's son" Ned replied and walked past the man. Varys' smile dropped instantly.

Ned moved on to a face he recognized very well, a face he was glad to see. "Renly, you're looking well" He grinned and gave the boy a strong hug.

"And you look tired from the road. I told them this meeting could wait another day, but—"

"But we have a kingdom to look after" Another voice interrupted.

Sansa eyed Renly, he was rather handsome she noted, her cheeks a bit red.

Arya seemed to pick up on this and rolled her eyes.

"I've hoped to meet you for some time now, Lord Stark. No doubt Lady Catelyn has mentioned me" the man said.

"She has, Lord Baelish" Ned answered, hanging his cloak over the chair. "I understand you knew my brother Brandon as well"

The newly named Baelish grinned. "All too well. I still carry a token of his esteem from navel to collarbone"

Catelyn sighed. Baelish had been a ward to her father Hoster Tully, when they were kids at Riverrun. When she'd been offered as a bride to Brandon Stark, Baelish had been distraught.

He'd gone off to duel Brandon for her hand. Such a stupid thing to do. Baelish was no fighter; he'd never even held a sword in his life!

Littlefinger had almost died that day. Her pleading to Brandon to have mercy on her long-time friend, had been what had saved his life.

"Perhaps you chose the wrong man to duel with" Ned said with mirth in his eyes.

"It wasn't the man that I chose, my lord. It was Catelyn Tully. A woman worth fighting for, I'm sure you'll agree"

Ned's face turned serious again, and he looked away from the man.

"You shouldn't be doing this, Ned. You should've rested after your long ride; it isn't good for your health" Catelyn told her Husband worriedly.

"Cat, as the Hand, it's my duty to attend to these matters. Rest may come afterward"

Catelyn sighed yet again. Her husband could be so stubborn at times.

"I humbly beg your pardon, my lord Stark" A deep and aged voice spoke up, belonging to the oldest man in the room.

"Grand maester" Ned greeted

"How many years has it been? You were just a boy" Pycelle reminisced, but Ned didn't seem to be fond of the man.

"And you served another king"

Robb looked to his father. "You talk to each other as you were friends, but there is an underlying tension to the conversation. The only one I feel like you were genuinely happy to see was Renly. Why is that, father?"

Ned closed his eyes in thought. "If King's Landing is a viper's nest, then the men in that room are the vipers. They might act as if they're doing what they're doing for the good of the realm, but each and every one of them has some hidden agenda. None of them have shown their true colors, and to some extent, it unnerves me" He answered truthfully and Robb nodded in understanding.

"Oh, how forgetful of me" Pycelle mumbled, reaching down into his pockets in search of something. "This belongs to you, now" He added when he found what he'd been looking for.

A ring of gold, with a hand inside, looking to be holding a staff, which was most likely used to fasten it to the person. Ned eyed the symbol of the Hand of the King and procured it to his clothing, near his breast pocket.

"Should we begin?" Pycelle asked, looking to each of the council members.

Ned looked around surprised. "Without the king?"

"Winter may be coming, but I'm afraid the same cannot be said for my brother" Renly replied seating himself.

Jon furrowed an eyebrow. "Isn't the king supposed to be at all council meetings?"

Tyrion's mouth curled into a small smile. "Well, the king has other, more… practical duties to attend to"

Bronn chuckled lightly at the joke.

"His grace has many cares. He entrusts some small matters to us so that we might lighten the load" Varys explained carefully.

"We are the lords of small matters here" Lord Baelish supplied and Renly handed Ned a scroll, which Ned accepted thankfully.

"My brother instructs us to stage a tournament in honor of Lord Stark's appointment as Hand of the King"

Lord Baelish donned a serious expression. "Mmm, how much?"

Ned read the instructions on the scroll. "40,000 gold dragons to the champion, 20,000 to the runner-up, 20,000 to the winning archer"

Pycelle looked to Baelish. "Can the treasury bear such expenses?" His frail old voice asked.

"I'll have to borrow it. The Lannisters will accommodate, I expect. We already owe Lord Tywin three million gold. What's another 80,000?

Their eyes widened.

"Are you telling me the crown is three million in debt?" Ned asked flabbergasted.

"I'm telling you the crown is six million in debt"

"What?!"

"S-so much…"

Ned's thoughts went to the old lion. He knew Tywin all too well. The Lannisters were a strong and rich house, and Tywin the one who had made it so. The old lion was one of the most respected and powerful battle commanders alive. He would not loan such a sum of money, unless it was somehow to his advantage.

Ned palmed his face. Robert. That fool. He seemed to have no issues burrowing himself, and the realm, deeper into debt.

Ned looked around incredulously. "How could you let this happen?"

"The Master of Coin finds the money. The king and the Hand spend it" Baelish replied nonchalantly.

Ned stared into Baelish's eyes unflinchingly. "I will not believe Jon Arryn allowed Robert to bankrupt the realm" He said with utter faith.

"Lord Arryn gave wise and prudent advice, but I fear his grace doesn't always listen" Pycelle sighed and stroked his unkempt beard.

Renly stroked his forehead with his index and middle finger, vexation clear in his voice. "Counting coppers, he calls it"

"I'll speak to Robert tomorrow. This tournament is an expense we cannot afford"

"As you will. But still, we'd still make our plans" Baelish tried, but Ned was not having it.

"There will be no plans until I speak to Robert" He raised his voice and all the attendants stiffened at his sudden exclamation. Realizing his mistake, Ned sighed tiredly. He rubbed his face, the ride to King's Landing and the sudden influx of bad news taking a toll on him.

"Forgive me, my lords, I'm— I had a long ride" He apologized.

Varys eyed him with a sliver of sympathy. "You are the King's Hand, Lord Stark, we serve at your pleasure".

Davos looked at the Lord of Winterfell in understanding. He knew the feeling of having to deal with constant problems. Being the right-hand man to the Lord of Dragonstone, the position had come with many responsibilities. He knew how tiring the burden of authority could be.


[With Cersei and Joffrey]

"Ow!"

Cersei rolled her eyes at her son's whimpering as she put ointment on his slightly wounded arm. "Please, it's nearly healed"

Robb, seeing the miniscule wound, could not help but voice his thoughts. "That's it? That's what had him crying like a little girl? It's barely a scratch!"

"It's ugly" Joffrey whined, mouth tipping downwards into a frown.

"A king should have scars. You fought off a dire wolf. You're a warrior like your father"

"He screamed like a frightened whore; you mean" Theon said in a deadpan.

"I'm not like him. I didn't fight off anything. It bit me and all I did was scream" Joffrey bowed his head to look at the floor shamefully. "And the two Stark girls saw it, both of them"

"That's not true. You killed the beast. You only spared the beast because of the love your father bears her father"

"Gods, woman. What part of the little cunts whining like a pussy led you to that conclusion?" Bronn scratched his head in thought.

Tyrion sighed. "Leave it to Cersei to fill her already unstable and sheltered son with delusions of grandeur and self-glorification"

"I didn't I—"

"When Aerys Targaryen sat on the Iron Throne, your father was a rebel and a traitor…" Joffrey quieted and Cersei placed a hand to gently stroke Joffrey's own. "Someday you'll sit on the Iron Throne and the truth will be what you make it"

Joffrey eyed his mother carefully. "Do I have to marry her?"

"Yes. She's very beautiful and young, and if you don't like her, you only need to see her face on formal occasions and when the time comes, to make little princes and princesses"

Cersei tried to cheer him up, but at the upset look on her son's face, decided to give further relief.

"And if you'd rather fuck painted whores, you'll fuck painted whores. And if you'd rather lie with noble virgins, then so be it" She placed her hand underneath his chin and lifted it so that their eyes met. "You are my darling boy and the world will be exactly as you want it to be"

Ned's eyes narrowed. They would stoop so low as to dishonor their betrothed in such a manner. Disgusting.

"That vile, evil creature of a woman. What is she thinking?! Teaching her son, the crown prince, to behave like some savage whoremonger" Catelyn raged.

Bronn leaned into Tyrion. "Well fuck me, that doesn't sound half bad" Bronn mused.

"I'd settle for just fucking the whores" Tyrion replied and they laughed lowly.

"Do something nice for the Stark girl" Cersei spoke up after a brief silence.

"I don't want to".

"No, but you will. The occasional kindness will spare you all sorts of trouble down the road"

Joffrey got up from his seat, annoyed. "We allow the northerners too much power. They consider themselves our equals" He proclaimed like it was some sort of grand offense.

"How would you handle them?" Cersei asked in mild interest. Her son was to rule after all, it would be a smart to get to know what her son thought of the politics of the realm.

"I'd double their taxes and command them to supply 10,000 men to the royal army"

Theon promptly spat out the wine he'd been drinking.

"Ten thousand?! Is he mad?" Jon said incredulously.

"A royal army?" Cersei raised a delicate eyebrow.

"Why should every lord command his own men? It's primitive, no better than the hill tribes. We should have a standing army of men loyal to the crown, trained by experienced soldiers—instead of a mob of peasants who've never held pikes in their lives" He continued.

Tyrion rolled his eyes. "He says that as if he has ever held a pike in his life"

"And if the northerners' rebel?" Cersei inquired.

"I'd crush them"

That seemed to amuse everyone in the room.

"You got beat into tears by a nine-year-old girl half your size. The only thing you'd be crushing are those delusional thoughts you're having" Davos japed and the others laughed heartily.

"—Seize Winterfell and install someone loyal to the realm as Warden of the North. Uncle Kevan, maybe" Joffrey continued.

"And these 10,000 northern troops, would they fight for you or their Lord?" Cersei inquired.

"For me. I'm their king" He replied haughtily.

"I doubt it".

"Yeah, no chance".

"Mm-hmm. But you just invaded their homeland, asked them to kill their brothers"

"I'm not asking" Joffrey stated arrogantly, his emerald green eyes boring into his mother.

"The North cannot be held—not by an outsider. It's too big and too wild. And when the winter comes, the Seven Gods together couldn't save you and your royal army. A good king knows when to save his strength…" Cersei stood up from her seat, her cascading golden hair swaying a bit as she did.

"Well the woman's got brains. How come her son is so stupid?" Bronn asked with a furrowed brow.

"She isn't half as smart as she thinks she is" Tyrion replied.

"… And when to destroy his enemies." She added coolly, donning a slight smirk and Joffrey observed her in slight surprise.

"So, you agree then…" He stepped closer to his mother, smirking in the same fashion as she had. "… the Starks are enemies?"

"Anyone who isn't us is an enemy"

Bronn had to give it to the woman. She was doing a fantastic job in molding the perfect retard. The boy would probably be a fully-fledged mongrel in a couple of years.


Arya, Sansa and the Septa all sat around the dinner table. There was wine, steaming hot potatoes, fruits and salads from various vegetables.

Dunk! Dunk! Dunk! Dunk! Dunk! Dunk! Dunk!

Arya kept on stabbing the table repeatedly, glowering all the while.

"Enough of that, young lady. Eat your food" The septa chided while scowling at the unladylike behavior. Sometimes she wondered how she and Sansa could even be sister. Sansa embodied everything that a lady should be. Arya, on the other hand, was very ill-mannered.

"I'm practicing"

"Practicing for what?" Sansa asked annoyed.

"The Prince"

Jon chortled. That was exactly like the Arya he knew. Always ready to fight.

"She's a fierce one" Tormund sniggered. She reminded him of particular young arrow shooting redhead at home.

"Arya, stop!" The Septa gasped.

"He's a liar and a coward and he killed my friend"

"The Hound killed your friend" Sansa corrected

"The Hound does whatever the Prince tells him to do" Arya replied with a fierce glare.

"I'm his sworn shield, that's what I do—Whatever he tells me to"

"You're an idiot" Sansa shot back.

"You're a liar. And if you told the truth, Mycah would be alive" Arya said finally and stabbed the knife a final time, embedding it into the pristine tabletop.

"Enough!" The Septa got out of her seat, finally having enough of the childish bickering, she begins escorting Arya away from the table as Ned walks in.

"What's happening here?" Ned asked in a demanding tone.

The Septa turned to her Lord to give him an answer. "Arya would rather act like a beast than a lady"

Catelyn watched the scene unfold with a hint of disappointment. Arya was too wild. Unlike Sansa, she despised the thought of staying at home while doing her duties as a lady. However, the cause of her discontent wasn't stemming from Arya. No, the cause was Sansa.

Family. Duty. Honor.

Those were the words of her house, and they always applied in that order. Family always came first, and in this case, Sansa had abandoned her family in the hopes of pursuing her own childish fantasies with the prince.

Yes, she was a child, placed in a difficult situation. But, a person's behavior as a child would often come to be reflected in adulthood. She needed to realize that there were more important things than her own wishes.

Ned sighed. "Go to your room. We'll speak later"

Arya left the room and Ned approached his oldest daughter. "That's for you, love…" Ned said, placing a wrapped package in front of Sansa on the table before she unpacked it to reveal a doll.

"The same dollmaker makes all of Princess Myrcella's toys. Don't you like it?" Ned asked gently.
"I haven't played with dolls since I was eight… May I be excused?" She was frowning and her dissatisfaction with the gift was obvious as day.

"You've barely eaten a thing" Mordane prompted.

Ned sighed and rubbed his temples. "It's all right. Go on."

She got up from the table, leaving only Ned and Septa Mordane.

"Spoiled little brat" The Hound said and Tormund gave a grunt in agreement.

Jon frowned a bit at his ungrateful sister. Father had gone out of his way to get her a toy made by a prized toymaker and his sister had blown him off without even a hint of gratitude or appreciation.

He had yearned for his father's attention more than anything since childhood and even now, if he's father had come to him with some toy for children, he would've been thankful. It showed how much their father cared, and seeing his sister act so spoiled was really annoying him.

"War was easier than daughters" Ned grumbled under his breath.

"Hey, what's that supposed to mean!" Sansa whirled on her father.

"Yeah!" Arya looked just as offended.

"Umm…" Ned looked to his wife for help, and Catelyn turned away stifling a little chuckle.

Traitor…

"Oh look! The next scene is about to begin!" Jon exclaimed, pointing at the screen with over the top excitement that looked off on his usually brooding face, and the girls whipped their heads to the screen.

Ned exhaled lightly and looked over to his son with a thankful smile, Jon giving a nod in return.


[In Arya's chambers]

Arya unsheathed her sword, Needle, privately in her room as Ned knocked on the door.

Jon's lips quirked into a small smile at the sight. He was glad that she treasured it so much.

"Go away!"

"Arya, open the door" Ned asks, his voice muffled and Arya unlocks the door.

"May I come in?" His voice was calm and soothing, and he closed the door behind himself. "Whose sword is that?" He asked upon noticing the weapon.

"Mine"

"Give it to me" Ned said and Arya handed it over reluctantly, afraid he was going to take away her gift from Jon.

Ned inspected the weapon carefully. "I know this maker's mark. This is Mikken's work. Where did you get this? This is no toy. Little ladies shouldn't play with swords" He chided, sitting down on one of the many chairs.

"Indeed" Catelyn bristled shooting Jon a glare. "What were you thinking when you gave Arya that sword? She could get hurt!"

"We already discussed this, Cat. It was a parting gift from Jon, let it go" Ned told his wife, wincing slightly at her unforgiving tone.

"I wasn't playing. And I don't want to be a lady"

"Come here" He chuckled and patted the seat beside him. "Now what do you want with this?"

She took a seat next to his. "It's called Needle"

The hound snorted, grumbling something about people naming their swords being cunts.

"A blade with a name. And who were you hoping to skewer with Needle? Your sister? Do you know the first thing about sword fighting?" He inquired.

"Stick'em with the pointy end."

Ned laughed at that. "That's the essence of it"

"I was trying to learn" Arya frowned slightly. "…I asked Mycah to practice with me. I asked him. It was my fault" She said and looked down sadly.

"No, sweet girl" He placed a gentle arm around his daughter. "You didn't kill the butcher's boy"

From the other couch, Robb spoke up. "Don't blame yourself for that, little sister. It wasn't your fault. Mycah's death is on the Queen and Joffrey's hands"

Arya Nodded slightly, but she couldn't shake the feeling that it was still her fault. If she hadn't gone and hit the Prince, Mycah would've probably gotten away with some cuts. But she had to go and anger him, and now Mycah was dead.

"I hate them! I hate all of them. The Hound, the Queen and the King and Joffrey and Sansa"

"Sansa was dragged before the King and Queen... And asked to call the Prince a liar"

"So was I! He is a liar" Arya stated hotly.

"Darling, listen to me" Ned sighed and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Sansa will be married to Joffrey someday. She cannot betray him. She must take his side even when he's wrong"

"But… how you can let her marry someone like that?" She asked in a mix of confusion and disgust, and Ned looked a bit nonplussed himself.

Most of the viewers were thinking the same. They'd only seen a little of Joffrey and it was already clear that the boy was a bad choice. He was pathetically weak, laughably deluded and unbearably arrogant. Adding that to that horrible superiority complex, and you'd have a bomb of madness waiting to explode right in your face.

"Well… Look at me" Ned said after a second of thought. "You're a Stark of Winterfell. You know our words"

"Winter is coming"

"You were born in the long summer. You've never known anything else. But now winter is truly coming. And in the winter, we must protect ourselves, look after one another. Sansa is your sister"

"I don't hate her. Not really" Arya confessed at her father's word.

Sansa processed that in her head, a bit stunned by her sisters' words. "I don't hate you either" They both then shared a little smile before their attention went back to the screen.

Catelyn and Ned couldn't help but share a smile. At least some good was coming out of this whole watching-the-future business.

"I don't want to frighten you, but I won't lie to you either. We've come to a dangerous place. We cannot fight a war amongst ourselves, all right?" He told Arya earnestly and offered her the sword, handle first. "Go on. It's yours"

"I can keep it?" She asked delightedly.

"Try not to stab your sister with it" He joked and headed for the door before turning around to look at Arya with a knowing smile. "If you're going to own a sword, you'd better know how to use it"


[Bran's bedside in Winterfell. A crow lands on his windowsill.]

"Don't listen to it. Crows are all liars" A old woman spoke up from his bedside, sitting on a chair close to the warmth of the fireplace while knitting. "I know a story about a crow" She said when she saw Bran's bored expression, hoping to cheer him up with one of her many tales.

"I hate your stories" Bran said in a childish fit of annoyance.

"I know a story about a boy who hated stories. I could tell you about Ser Duncan the tall. Those were always your favorites"

"Those weren't my favorites. My favorites were the scary ones"

Old Nan sighed. "Oh, my sweet summer child. What do you know about fear? Fear is for the winter, when the snows fall a hundred feet deep. Fear is for the long night, when the sun hides for years and children are born and live and die all in darkness. That is the time for fear, my little Lord, when the White Walkers move through the woods. Thousands of years ago there came a night that lasted a generation. Kings froze to death in their castles, same as the shepherds in their huts. And women smothered their babies rather than see them starve, and wept and felt the tears freeze on their cheeks. So is this the sort of story that you like? In that darkness, the White Walkers came for the first time. They swept through cities and kingdoms, riding their dead horses, hunting with their packs of pale spiders big as hounds…"

[Door rattles] Bran startled at the sudden noise and Robb walked into the room, interrupting Old Nan's story.

"Damn, that gave me goosebumps" Bronn shivered.

"Aye…"

"She's one crazy old woman, I tell you"

Dany shivered a bit herself. "That ominous music… it made her story so much more, more…"

"Alive" Tyrion finished for her.

"Yes"

There was a short silence. The old woman's words were both awe-inspiring and fear-inducing at the same time. The way she talked almost made them feel as if they were standing in a forest decked in snow in the middle of winter, all alone and scared.

Tormund who'd been quiet for a while spoke up. "Always listen to the elders. They may be old, but they've lived for a long time and seen many things. They're wise, and often their advice can be more precious than gold or weapon. It's how we survive out in the North. We learn from the mistakes of our forebears"

Davos nodded slowly, looking thoughtful.

"It makes you wonder, though" Tyrion asked with a frown. "If the white walkers are real… are the ice spiders from the stories real? Grumpkins and Snarks? Could they be out there, somewhere in the white wastelands of the lands of always winter?"

"I wouldn't count them out" Tormund said after a second of thought. "… Many have tried to explore the lands of always winter and every time they come back with some mysterious story about seeing strange creatures roaming in the thick snows. Every once in a while, scouts or scavengers come back to camp claiming to have seen White Walkers, Ice Spiders, Yeti's or even the Jötunn (Frost giants)"

The mere thought of these mythical creatures being real sent quivers down their spines.

"What are you telling him now?" Robb asked upon entry, smiling to himself.

"Only what the little Lord wants to hear"

"Get your supper. I want some time with him" Robb said kindly and waited till she left and turned to Bran. "One time she told me the sky is blue because we live inside the eye of a blue-eyed giant named Macumber" He told Bran when they were alone.

"Maybe we do"

Tyrion snorted amusedly. He could believe the things about White Walkers, now that he'd been presented with evidence. But there was no way he was going to believe that they lived in Macumber's gigantic blue eye.

Some of the others chuckled too.

"How do you feel?" Robb asked, sitting down next to Bran on the bed. "You still don't remember anything?"

Bran shook his head sadly and Robb continued. "Bran, I've seen you climb a thousand times. In the wind, in the rain... A thousand times. You never fall" He stated seriously.

"I did though… It's true, isn't it... what Maester Luwin says about my legs?" Robb, unable to speak, shook his head in silent confirmation.

"I'd rather be dead"

That one sentence was like a vicious blow to the gut for the Stark family. Catelyn's heart dropped, eyes turning glassy. Sansa and Arya had tears in their eyes by now, and the boys were all facing away with grim looks on their faces.

"Don't ever say that"

"I'd rather be dead"

The tears fell down her eyes, and she clung to her husband in sorrow. Her son was hurting so much inside. So broken and sad. She just couldn't handle seeing him like that, her sweet Bran.


[Catelyn and Rodrick arrive at King's Landing, entering through a back entrance]

"Fewer eyes back here, my Lady. But still too many" Rodrick uttered glancing around warily.

"Nine years since I've set foot in the capital. And no one knew who I was the last time I came either"

Two guards pull up to her on horseback.

"Welcome to King's Landing, Lady Stark. Would you mind following us?" One of the guards said.

"I would. We've done nothing wrong"

"We've been instructed to escort you into the city" He added.

"Instructed? I don't know who's providing your instructions, but..."

She's interrupted when the guard hands her a scroll.

"Follow me, Lady Stark" The gold-cloak said again, and led them through the narrow streets of the capital.

"Wonder what's in the scroll" Samwell whispered to Jon. "Who do you think sent it?"

"If I was to venture a guess. I'd say that it was someone from the King's court"


[At Baelish's brothel]
"Cat!" Peter Baelish greeted the two when they entered the room. He turned to his 'company' "Go on. Go upstairs"

"Who is that and how did he know she was coming?" Theon asked with a befuddled expression. Lady Catelyn had ridden in a small party consisting only of herself and Ser Rodrick, and no one had known of their journey beforehand. There was no way he could've known, right?

"That, my dear little squidling, is Peter Baelish, the Master of Coin…"

"And brothelkeeper" Bronn added hastily while Theon looked more than a little annoyed at the nickname.

"… He, alongside Varys, control more spies than the rest of the Seven Kingdoms combined. Nothing ever happens without them knowing. Knowledge is their trade. It's what has made them so powerful, even though they both come from poor backgrounds"

Catelyn looked ready to explode of rage. "You little worm!" She yelled in anger and threw the scroll she'd been handed earlier at Baelish. "You take me for some back-alley Sally you can drag into a…"

Two naked whores interrupt and Baelish snaps at them to leave.

"I meant no disrespect to you of all people" He apologized earnestly.

"How dare you bring me here! Have you lost your mind?"

"No one will come looking for you here. Isn't that what you wanted? I'm truly sorry... about the locale"

Ned uttered a low growl. This little weasel dared bring his wife to such a filthy establishment.

"How did you know I was coming to King's Landing?" She questioned and Baelish's eyes shifted to somewhere behind her.

"A dear friend told me" He said, and she turned to see where he was looking.

"Lady Stark" A voice greeted from behind the curtains and Catelyn recognized the person immediately.

"Lord Varys?"

"To see you again after so many years is a blessing… Your poor hands" Varys spoke softly and took one of her bandaged hands in his own. Her reaction was immediate and she retracted her hand straight away.

"How did you know I was coming?" She inquired yet again.

"Knowledge is my trade, my Lady. Did you bring the dagger with you, by any chance?" Catelyn nodded to Rodrick whom handed the dagger to Varys. "My little birds are everywhere. Even in the north. They whisper to me the strangest stories"

"You see what I mean" Tyrion said to Theon, gesturing to the screen. "Nothing ever gets by those two" and Theon nodded dumbly, still a bit shocked.

"Valyrian steel" He stated when he recognized the rare metal.

That little tidbit of information had Davos thinking since the last episode. Why would someone give a Valyrian steel dagger to a common sell-sword? They were weapons of extreme value which were often passed down from generation to generation in houses as family heirlooms.

Tyrion's thoughts mirrored those of Davos. The secret to making Valyrian steel had been lost to the world when the Doom had befallen Old Valyria. Now, there were only a handful of such weapons left, and even less whom knew how to reforge the steel.

"Do you know whose dagger this is?"

"I must admit I do not" Varys answered dejectedly.

Baelish chuckled. "Well, well, this is a historic day" They all turned to look at the brothelkeeper inquisitively. "Something you don't know, that I do. There's only one dagger like this in all the Seven Kingdoms…"

Everyone stared at the man expectantly.

"… It's Mine"

"What?" Davos asked stupefied.

"Huh?!"

"What do you mean 'It's mine'?!"

"Yours?" Catelyn's eyes widened in incredulity.

"At least it was, until the tournament on prince Joffrey's last Nameday" He added hastily.

"I bet on ser Jaime in the jousting, as any sane man would. When the knight of the Flowers unseated him, I lost this dagger"

"To whom?" Catelyn asked, her face stony.

The viewers were leaning in in anticipation.

"Tyrion Lannister, the Imp"

Dead silence ensued the statement and Tyrion squeaked out a "huh?", utterly flabbergasted.

Everyone turned to stare at Tyrion with wide eyes.

He suddenly noticed their stares and frowned. "Oh, you can't be serious! You actually believe him?! I thought we already established that I wasn't the type to throw children out of tower windows, that was Jaime and Cersei!"

The Starks wore conflicted expressions and Davos spoke up to ease the tension.

"Well, it doesn't really make sense for Lord Tyrion to do such a thing. We all saw how the boy was thrown at the hands of Jaime Lannister, and when Tyrion joined them at the feast afterwards, he was absolutely clueless as to how the boy had fallen. He did also express genuine concern for the boy, if I remember correctly"

"If anything, this looks like a plot to frame him" Bronn piped up.

That seemed reasonable, but what Catelyn couldn't wrap her head around was why Baelish would lie to her about such a thing. They had been close friends in childhood when he had served as her father's ward. He had even confessed his love to her, and fought her betrothed at the time for her favor. What was there to gain from lying to her? What could he possibly gain from betraying her trust like that?


[Castle Black]

At Castle Black, in a courtyard. Grenn and Jon are swordfighting, Jon getting the best of him and breaking his nose while Tyrion and The Lord Commander watch from a distance.

"If that were a real sword, you'd be dead" Ser Alliser sneered. "Lord Snow here grew up in a castle spitting down on the likes of you… Pyp. Do you think Ned Stark's bastard bleeds like the rest of us?"

"Someone obviously doesn't like you" Davos remarked.

"Yeah, well, he's not the first"

"That's Ser Alliser Thorne" Ned stated, glaring at the man who was so blatantly insulting his son. "He was a Targaryen loyalist. Benjen goes on often and loudly about him. He's hated us Stark's ever since Robert's rebellion, when we ended the Targaryen dynasty"

They all nodded in understanding.

Pyp steps forward, shouting as he swings his training sword in a sideways arc, aiming for Jon's head. Jon leans backward letting the swing pass him by and then lurches forward, stabbing Pyp in the gut with a furious grunt, the blunt blow sending Pyp sprawling to the ground, heaving heavy breaths.

"Next!"

Jon quickly dispatches of another newcomer; we see Lord Commander Jeor and Tyrion looking on from a balcony.

"Next!"

Arya cheered for her brother. Happy to see her big brother kicking ass.

While Jon Snow is fighting, another joins in and Jon defeats the two of them almost instantly.

"You've gotten better, Snow" Robb said with a grin, clapping Jon on the back.

"You should probably work on your own swordsmanship, else I might leave you behind, Stark" Jon replied with an equally cheerful grin and Ned eyed Jon with pride gleaming in his brown eyes.

"Lord Snow, it appears you're the least useless person here. Go clean yourselves up. There's only so much I can stomach in a day" Alliser concluded, sending the boys away.


[Tyrion and Lord Commander are talking, overlooking the courtyard.]

"A charming man" Tyrion said with a small smirk.

"I don't need him to be charming. I need him to turn this bunch of thieves and runaways into men of the Night's Watch"

"And how's that going, Commander Mormont?"

"Slowly" He replied and reached for something in his pocket. "A raven came for Ned Stark's son" He said, handing the message to Tyrion.

"Good news or bad?"

"Both"

"I bet it's about Bran" Arya chirped.

"Yeah, those are most likely the good news" Tyrion supposed. "Though I wonder what the bad news could be"

"Most likely about the poor lads' legs" Bronn shrugged.


[Back in the throne room, just outside of the small council chambers, Ned is walking when Pycelle arrives looking for him]

"Lord Stark" The grey bearded man greeted. "I meant to give you this earlier. So forgetful these days. A raven from Winterfell this morning" He said, carefully making his way down the few steps to hand Ned the message. He was breathing heavily, the short walk taking a toll on his frail old body.

Ned gave a grateful nod, and Pycelle bowed and left.

Is that the same message as Jon received? Tyrion pondered silently.

"Good news?" A voice uttered, startling Ned and making him look up to the speaker. "Perhaps you'd like to share it with your wife?

"My wife is in Winterfell" Ned replied as a man stepped forward to reveal himself as Peter Baelish.

"Is she?"


[At Baelish's brothel]

"I thought that she'd be safest in here" Baelish explained as Ned dismounted his horse, leading the Hand to one of his many brothels in King's Landing. "One of several such establishments I own"

Ned's head whipped around to glare at the gaunt man, anger filling him as soon as the man uttered those words.

He yanked Baelish by the neck, startling the man and pressed him into the cold, hard stone wall.

"You're a funny man. A very funny man" Ned growled with a forced smile, a firm hand around Baelish's throat, pinning him to the wall with an overwhelming strength the smaller man couldn't fight against.

"Ned!" Catelyn admonished lightly, slapping her husband playfully on the arm.

Baelish desperately scratched at Ned's hand, trying his damnest to escape from the northerner's firm hold.

"Ned!" [Catelyn pokes her head out of a window]

Ned's eyes shot up in surprise at the sudden exclamation, and found his wife poking her head out of the window of the Brothel. He relinquished his hold on the Master of Coin and entered the Brothel.

Some of the viewers chuckled and the Stark children found themselves laughing at their father's antics.

Baelish gasped for sweet fresh air, his lungs greedily sucking in oxygen.

"The Starks... Quick tempers, slow minds" Baelish muttered, fixing his collar and followed after Ned.


[The armory at Castle Black]

Jon was putting away his gear after the training session, alongside the other trainees when the one named Grenn shut the door and directed a glare at Jon.

"You broke my nose, bastard!" He spat out.
Jon turned around to face the three other trainees in the room. A small smirk adorning his face. "It's an improvement"

"Are you blind, Snow? Can't you see they outnumber you three to one?" Theon quipped.

"Numbers don't always guarantee victory, Greyjoy" Jon shot back.

Arya then stepped in to back up her brother. "And Jon beat them easily when they were training"

Before Jon had any time to react, the two trainees next to him, Rast and Pyp, grabbed his arms, hindering any movement. Grenn rushed towards Jon furiously, grabbing a small knife in the process and holding it to Jon's throat.

"If we threw you over the Wall, wonder how long it'd take you to hit the ground" Grenn snarled.

"I wonder if they'd find you before the wolves did" Pyp added.

The Starks stiffened and the tension became palpable. Robb gripped his knee tightly in worry for his brother. Ned turned quiet while Sansa and Arya looked equally horrified.

"See, I told you so, Snow. Not. A. Good. Idea" Theon whispered harshly.

Abruptly, the door to the armory creaked open and Tyrion waddled in on his short little legs. The two groups eyed each other for a second. Tyrion analyzing the situation with a keen mind.

"What're you looking at, halfman?" Grenn questioned.

"I'm looking at you. Yes. You've got an interesting face. Very distinctive faces. All of you"

"What do you care about our faces?" Rast replied this time.

"It's just, I think they would look marvelous decorating the spikes in King's Landing. Perhaps I'll write to my sister, the Queen, about it"

They quickly let go of Jon, clearly reading the underlying threat.

Robb exhaled sharply, the surge of relief lifting the unease and worry from his shoulders.

"We'll talk later, Lord Snow" Grenn mumbled lowly to Jon and he along with Pyp and Rast all started putting away their gears.

Jon exhaled deeply, slumping backwards onto the rack for practice swords.

"Everybody knew what this place was and no one told me. No one but you… My father knew and left me to rot here at the Wall all the same"

Ned flinched. It was true. He had known what the Wall was and even though Jon had been insistent on joining his uncle at the Night's Watch, he knew he should've put down his foot on the matter. The wall was no place for a boy. Jon had his entire life ahead of him and the Wall wasn't going anywhere. It hurt him a lot to see Jon so downtrodden and knowing what he knew about Jon's heritage made it even worse. A boy whom was owed so much, yet bereft of everything.

Tyrion gave Jon a sympathetic look. "Grenn's father left him too…" The other trainees' heads snapped in Tyrion's direction. "Outside a farmhouse when he was three. Pyp was caught stealing a wheel of cheese. His little sister hadn't eaten in three days. He was given a choice: his right hand or the Wall" Tyrion continued. "I've been asking the Lord Commander about them. Fascinating stories"

"They hate me because I'm better than they are!" Jon exclaimed in anger.

"It's a lucky thing none of them were trained by a master-at-arms like your Ser Rodrik. I don't imagine any of them ever held a real sword before they came here" Tyrion cut in snidely and Jon took a step back, suddenly unsure of his previous actions. He sighed and reached into one of his pockets, retrieving the message handed to him by Mormont.

"Your brother Bran" He said, handing Jon the message. "He's woken up"

Ned's eyes trained on the dwarf. He'd been kind to his son and given prudent advice, even going out of his way to help his son outright and Ned could feel his respect rising for the man.


[At Baelish's brothel]

"The mere suggestion that the Queen's brother tried to kill your boy would be considered treason" Baelish reasoned. Attempting to dissuade Lord- and Lady Stark from their misguided thoughts.

"We have proof. We have the blade" Catelyn replied; confident it was enough to convince the King of the Lannisters guilt.

"Which Lord Tyrion will say was stolen from him. The only man who could say otherwise has no throat, thanks to your boy's wolf"

She turned to her husband. "Petyr has promised to help us find the truth. He's like a little brother to me. He would never betray my trust"

"I'll try to keep you alive, for her sake. A fool's task, admittedly, but I've never been able to refuse your wife anything"

How lovely. First, they blame me for the attempted murder of a child and then play the role of the loyal friend who's putting himself at risk for your cause. Just fucking fantastic.

"I won't forget this. You're a true friend" She said, fixing him with a sincere gaze.

Catelyn could feel her heart ache at those words. She had truly considered him a friend and in return he'd betrayed her where it mattered the most.

"Don't tell anyone. I have a reputation to maintain


[In the Queen's chambers.]

Hearing a knock on her door, Cersei quickly opened it and Jaime entered wearing his usual outfit.

Jon growled in anger. This wretched ignominy of a man had hurt his little brother. Jon could feel his hands twitching and he had to remind himself that they had no weapons. Oh, how he yearned for that the opportunity to rip the Kingslayer apart, butcher him as brutally as he could possible manage, to beat the ever living shit out of him. There would be nothing more satisfying, nothing more gratifying than that, at this very moment.

She locked the door behind him and snapped her head to meet his gaze, eyes blazing. "How could you be so stupid?" She demanded furiously.

"Calm down"

"He's a child... 10 years old. What were you thinking?"

Tyrion found himself asking the same question. How? How could his brother have stooped so low? What madness had driven him to throwing an innocent child out of a tower in hopes of killing him. The disappointment was overwhelming and Tyrion averted his eyes from the screen, unable to cope with the disgrace of it all.

"I was thinking of us. You're a bit late to start complaining about it now" Jaime replied snidely. "What has the boy told them?"

"Nothing. He's said nothing. He remembers nothing" She replied; voice laced with worry.

"Then what are you raving about?"

"What if it comes back to him? If he tells his father what he saw..."

"We'll say he was lying. We'll say he was dreaming. We'll say whatever we like. I think we can outfox a 10-year-old" He said, taking nonchalant steps towards his twin.

"And my husband?" Cersei questioned warily.

"I'll go to war with him if I have to. They can write a ballad about us" He grinned. "The War for Cersei's Cunt" And received a stern slap to the face. He laughs and shrugs it off, and Cersei tries hitting him again. This time, however, he spins her around and hugs her from behind, wrapping her up in his arms.

The others couldn't help but gag in disgust.

"Let me go"

"Never"

"Let me go"

Robb suppressed a retch at the overly cliché lovers quarrel.

"The boy won't talk. And if he does, I'll kill him. Him, Ned Stark, the King… The whole bloody lot of them, until you and I are the only people left in this world" He whispered softly into her ears.

One day, I will kill you like the dishonorable coward you are, Jaime Lannister. Mark my words. For my family, for my friends, and for the realm. Ned vowed to himself, boiling with vengeance.


[In a back alley]

"I wish I could see the girls" Catelyn said, holding her husband's rough hands in her own softer ones.

Ned's eyes softened at his wife's words. "It's too dangerous"

"Just for a moment" She pleaded.

"Until we know who our enemies are..."

"I know they did it, Ned. The Lannisters" Catelyn said with the utmost conviction. "In my bones, I know it"

"Well, you're right about it being the Lannisters, just the wrong one" Davos remarked.

Ned sighed. "Littlefinger's right. I can't do anything without proof"

"And if you find the proof?"

Ned looked down to the ground with a contemplative expression. "Then I bring it to Robert... And hope he's still the man I once knew..." His hazel eyes shifted to meet his wife's blue ones. "You watch yourself on the road, huh? That temper of yours is a dangerous thing"

"My temper?" Catelyn chuckled. "Gods be good, you nearly killed poor Littlefinger yesterday"

"He still loves you"

"Does he?" She replied and they stared into each other's eyes for a few more seconds in silence and then embraced each other and let their lips meet for a chaste kiss.

"Awww, that's so sweet" Sansa cooed. That was such a romantic and sweet moment and she couldn't help but wish that her own future relationship would work out just as well.

Arya, on the other hand, did not have the same reaction. She wrinkled her nose cutely. "Ewww…"

"Off with you" Ned said when they broke the kiss. Cat gave a slight nod and walked away, Ned gazing at her retreating back.


[In the King's chambers]
"Yeah,
It's been a long time" The King sighed, twirling a glass of wine in his hand. "But I still remember every face... You remember your first?" He asked the current Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Ser Barristan Selmy.

Eyes widened when they met the visage of the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. Jon and Robb ogled the man with awe.

Barristan Selmy, also known as Barristan the Bold, was a living legend. A man who'd fought countless battles and won valor and glory. His chivalry and honor were second to none. He'd been knighted by Aegon V after defeating Ser Duncan the Tall at the age of 17, and become a member of the Kingsguard at 23. This man was one worthy of respect and admiration.

"Of course, your Grace" Barristan replied stepping forward.

"Who was it?"

"A Tyroshi. Never learned the name"

The King gave a scoff. "How'd you do it?"

"Lance through the heart"

"Quick one. lucky for you" Robert replied putting down his glass of wine. "Mine was some Tarly boy at the Battle of Summerhall. My horse took an arrow so I was on foot, slogging through the mud. He came running at me, this dumb high-born lad, thinking he could end the rebellion with the single swing of his sword. I knocked him down with the hammer. Gods, I was strong then. Caved in his breastplate. Probably shattered every rib he had. Stood over him, hammer in the air. Right before I brought it down, he shouted, "Wait! Wait!"... They never tell you how they all shit themselves. They don't put that part in the songs. Stupid boy. Now the Tarlys bend the knee like everyone else. He could have lingered on the edge of the battle with the smart boys and today his wife would be making him miserable, his sons would be ingrates, and he'd be waking three times in the night to piss into a bowl"

Sam suppressed a wince as he heard the King utter the Tarly name. His father, Randall Tarly, often bragged about how the Tarly's were the only ones to defeat Robert in battle during the rebellion.

Meanwhile, Jon couldn't help but frown a bit at the unsightly appearance of the King. He'd listened to fathers' stories about how he'd fought alongside the King in the rebellion. Robert Baratheon had been nicknamed the 'Demon of the Trident', yet the only thing Jon could see of the man now was that he was fat, drunk and lazy.

Robert was scowling at the end of his tirade and whipped his head to his cupbearer. "Wine!" He bellowed and Lancel quickly approached the king and poured what few drops of wine he had left. "Lancel. Gods, what a stupid name" He said staring at the shaking squire. "Lancel Lannister. Who named you? Some halfwit with a stutter?"

They laughed at the jape.

Robert looked down to take his cup and noticed it was still empty. "What are you doing?"

"It's empty, your Grace" Came the reply.

"What do you mean it's empty?"

Lancel was sweating at this point. "There's no more wine"

"He looks ready to shit himself" Tormund laughed.

"Is that what empty means?!" The king yelled. "So. Get. More" He snarled accentuating each word.

Lancel hurriedly made his way to the door, almost sprinting out in fear.

"Poor boy"

"Tell your cousin to get in here. Kingslayer! Get in here" Robert yelled after the boy and Jaime who was standing guard outside the door.

Calmly, Jaime strode into the King's chamber. "Surrounded by Lannisters" Robert glowered and Jaime did his best to hide his annoyance. "Every time I close my eyes, I see their blond hair and their smug, satisfied faces. It must wound your pride, huh? Standing out there like a glorified sentry. Jaime Lannister, son of the mighty Tywin... Forced to mind the door while your King eats and drinks and shits and fucks. So come on. We're telling war stories. Who was your first kill, not counting old men?"

"Ouch"

"Yeah, he really hates the guy"

"I can see why" Robb muttered.

"One of the outlaws in the Brotherhood" Jaime answered the King.

"I was there that day. You were only a squire, 16 years old" Ser Barristan complimented and Jaime gave a little nod.

"You killed Simon Toyne with a counter riposte. Best move I ever saw" Jaime gave his own compliment to the aging knight whose mouth curled into a small smile.

"Toyne?" Robb furrowed an eyebrow looking to his father for answers.

"Simon Toyne was the leader of the Kingswood Brotherhood, a band of outlaws and bandits opposed to the rule of House Targaryen. They were based in the Kingswood, a large area of woodland south-east of King's Landing. Roughly 20 years ago, King Aerys II Targaryen ordered them destroyed, a mission led by Ser Barristan himself" Ned informed.

"A good fighter, Toyne, but he lacked stamina"

"Your outlaw" Robert interrupted. "Any last words?"

"I cut his head off, so no" Jaime replied smugly.

"What about Aerys Targaryen? What did the Mad King say when you stabbed him in the back? I never asked. Did he call you a traitor? Did he plead for a reprieve?" Robert questioned sounding genuinely interested.

"He said the same thing he'd been saying for hours… 'Burn them all'" The room quieted quickly at that and the King and Jaime shared a long hard stare.

Dany quivered at those three words.

"If that's all your grace…" Jaime said and excused himself, giving the King and Ser Barristan quick nods.


[Somewhere beyond the Narrow Sea]

A vast expanse of forestry could be seen and on a narrow path, rode Khal Drogo's Khalasar. Drogo rode at the front, his Blood riders following him closely, while Jorah and Daenerys were further back.

"I wonder where exactly that place is. It's certainly very beautiful" Davos wondered out loud. He'd been a smuggler before becoming Stannis's advisor, and as such had visited many wonderful lands. However, he'd always avoided the Dothraki shores.

"It is a curious thing, the geography of the world, I mean" Tyrion said. "There are still so many undiscovered places. From what I've read the only known lands are Essos, Westeros, Sothoryos, and some archipelagos. We don't even know what lies west to Westeros"

To Arya, that sounded like the most amazing thing in the world. To go out on adventures and discover new lands. It would be a dream come true.

"Do the Dothraki buy their slaves?" Dany questioned.

"The Dothraki don't believe in money. Most of their slaves were given to them as gifts" Jorah answered.

"From whom?"

"If you rule a city and you see the horde approaching, you have two choices: pay tribute or fight. An easy choice for most. Of course, sometimes it's not enough. Sometimes a Khal feels insulted by the number of slaves he's given. He might think the men too weak or the women too ugly. Sometimes a Khal decides his riders haven't had a good fight in months and need the practice" Jorah explained as best as he could manage.

Suddenly Daenerys sees one of the Dothraki men strike a slave with a whip for not moving fast enough.

They all looked at the scene with varying degrees of disgust. Slavery had been abolished in Westeros and selling and or buying slaves was punishable by death. Seeing it happen so casually was utterly repulsive.

"Tell them all to stop"

"You want the entire horde to stop? For how long?" Jorah asked, unsure if it was a wise decision.

"Until I command them otherwise"

"You're learning to talk like a Queen" He smiled lightly.

"Not a Queen. A Khaleesi"

Tyrion nodded to himself. It would do her good to embrace her new role of authority. If she was to survive, she needed to know how to utilize her position to her gain.

Daenerys dismounts her horse and walks through the field off of the path. She hears noises coming towards her and grass snapping. Her brother Viserys storms into the clearing on horseback wielding a sword.

"You dare!" Viserys roared absolutely livid.

"Oh dear, here we go…"

"You give commands to me? To me?! You do not command the dragon" He snarled while grabbing Dany by the neck and bringing his sword close to her throat. "I am Lord of the Seven Kingdoms. I don't take orders from savages or their sluts. Do you hear me?" He spat, face twisting angrily.

A snapping noise can be heard and suddenly something wraps itself around Viserys's throat, a moment later he's yanked off his feet and thrown backward onto the muddy ground.

"Ha! Got what you deserve, princeling" Theon laughed.

"Wow, that was so cool!" Arya shouted in awe.

Ned chuckled at his daughters' antics. "Aye, that was some skill he displayed"

Dany looked up startled and sees Rakharo, one of the Dothraki warriors, with a whip in hand. He asks her something in Dothraki, eyes glaring at the downed prince like daggers.

"Rakharo ask if you want him dead, Khaleesi" Irri translates for her.

"No!" She cries and Irri conveys her reply to Rakharo who looks a bit stunned at that.

Tormund twisted his head to look at the silver haired girl in some confusion and decided to voice his thoughts. "Say, little girl, why do you insist on protecting that boy. He's done nothing but hurt, humiliate and use you" And the others couldn't help but wonder the same thing.

"I—He's my brother" She replied shakily.

"But he—"

"The only family I have left…"

Tormund silenced when he heard her quivering voice and sad eyes, knowing he shouldn't pry any further.

"Rakharo say you should take ear, to teach respect" Irri says yet again, when Rakharo continues in Dothraki.

"Taking his ear would certainly teach him a lesson" Tyrion pointed out.

"Please please, don't hurt him" Dany pleads, but her eyes soon meet those of Jorah's whom gives her a pointed look. She calms down when the meaning of it dawns on her.

"Tell him I don't want my brother harmed" Dany rephrases, this time in a more authoritative voice and Irri translates yet again, though a bit reluctant.

Rakharo releases Viserys from his whip with a low Dothraki 'understood'.

Finally, able to breathe properly, Viserys gasps, coughing, wheezing, and greedily sucking in as much of the fresh air as he possible can.

"Mormont! Kill these Dothraki dogs! I am your King!" Viserys screams frantically.

Jorah briefly locks eyes with Rakharo, before he turns to Dany.

"Shall we return to the Khalasar, Khaleesi?" Jorah says, holding his head up high. Dany eyes her brother unsurely, but in the end, mounts her horse with the help of Irri and then proceeds the join the Khalasar.

"Yeah, I wouldn't try my luck against that whip either"

Viserys picks himself off and dusts off his clothes a bit, glaring all the while at Dany. He picks up his sword and stomps over to his horse, but is suddenly stopped when Rakharo blocks his path.

"Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh… You. Walk"


[Castle Black]

The cold winds can be heard whispering as Jon is walking hurriedly though the Castle while clutching his fur coat tightly for warmth. He enters the lift and another man of the night's watch pulls the lever for the lift to take off. It creaks as Jon slowly rises to the top of the Wall.

No matter how many times they showed the wall, Jon couldn't get enough of it. It was such astounding sight to behold. An 8000-year-old colossal fortification stretching for 100 leagues along the Northern border of the Kingdom of the North. Made entirely of solid ice and reaching up to 700 feet in height, it separates the realm from the domain of the wildlings beyond.

Bells ring as he finally reaches the top and exits the lift and makes his way through the narrow passages on top of the wall.

"Oh, so that's how it's like on the top"

"I always wondered how they could patrol the top without risking falling off"

Finally, he arrives at his intended destination and grins seeing the familiar face of Benjen Stark huddled near a campfire. He gives a short embrace and walks past the man to stand at the edge of the Wall and gaze out over the frozen horizon.

"Wow, it's, it's—" Sansa started, unsure how to even describe what she was seeing.

"breathtaking" Jon finished for her.

"Yeah" Robb added, similarly awed.

"I wanted to be here when you saw it for the first time… I'm leaving this morning"

"You're leaving?" Jon asked incredulously.

"I'm the First Ranger. My job is out there" Benjen says nodding towards the lands beyond the Wall. "There have been disturbing reports"

"What kind of reports?"

"The kind I don't want to believe"

Jon turns to his uncle while straightening up to look him directly in the eyes. "I'm ready. I won't let you down"

Ned tensed at those words.

"You're not going" Benjen says, avoiding his eyes. "You're no ranger, Jon"

He relaxed his body, and let out a sigh of relief. The lands beyond were dangerous and knowing what he knew now about the White Walkers being out there. Just the thought of it sent shivers down his spine.

"But I'm better than every—"

"Better than no one! Here... A man gets what he earns, when he earns it" He says and places a firm hand on Jon's shoulder. "We'll speak when I return."


[Yoren and Tyrion getting drunk on wine in a the mess hall of Castle Black]

"A bear's balls" Yoren laughed.

"You're joking?" Tyrion chuckled.

"and his brains and his guts, his lungs and his heart all fried in his own fat. When you're a hundred miles north of the Wall and you ate your last meal a week ago, you leave nothing for the wolves"

The realization of what they were speaking about hit Sansa and gagged at the imagery.

"And how do a bear's balls taste?" Tyrion asked grinning.

"Eww…"

"Yuck"

"That's nasty"

"A bit chewy" Both laughed. "And what about you, my Lord? What's the strangest thing you've eaten?"

"Do Dornish girls count?" They burst into laughter yet again and Tyrion continues shortly after catching their breaths.

Bronn and Theon laughed at the joke, while Catelyn rolled her eyes.

"…So, you roam the Seven Kingdoms, collaring pickpockets and horse thieves and bringing them here as eager recruits?"

"Aye, but it's not all of 'em's done bad things. Some of 'em's just poor lads looking for steady feed. Some of 'em's high-born lads looking for glory"

"They have a better chance finding feed than glory"

"True" The hound said offhandedly

Unexpectedly, Benjen enters the hall.

"The Night's Watch is a joke to you, is it? Is that what we are, Lannister? An army of jesters in black?" He said, stopping directly in front of the Lannister dwarf, towering over him and staring down with serious eyes.

"You don't have enough men to be an army and aside from Yoren here, none of you are particularly funny" Tyrion replied shrugging off the matter and taking a quick sip of his ale in a nonchalant manner.

Tormund laughed. He could appreciate others making fun of the crows.

Benjen did not seem amused and the atmosphere turned serious. "I hope we've provided you with some good stories to tell when you're back in King's Landing. But something to think about while you're drinking your wine down there, enjoying your brothels... Half the boys you've seen training will die north of the Wall. Might be a wilding's axe that gets them, might be sickness, might just be the cold. They die in pain. And they do it so plump little lords like you can enjoy their summer afternoons in peace and comfort"

Tyrion decided that he didn't like the air of seriousness that Benjen brought to the room. "Do you think I'm plump?" He asked Yoren who looked away trying his best to smother his laughter. "Listen, Benjen... May I call you Benjen?" Tyrion sighed, putting away his empty cup.

"Call me what you like."

"I'm not sure what I've done to offend you. I have great admiration for the Night's Watch. I've great admiration for you as First Ranger" Tyrion said trying to sound earnest, but Benjen only scoffed and leaned forwards, putting one arm on his knee.

"You know, my brother once told me that nothing someone says before the word "but" really counts"

Ned nodded. His father had told him the same thing when he'd been young and it had always remained true.

Tyrion smirked mischievously. "But... I don't believe that giants and ghouls and White Walkers are lurking beyond the Wall. I believe that the only difference between us and the wildlings is that when the Wall went up, our ancestors happened to live on the right side of it"

"You're right. The wildlings are no different from us. A little rougher maybe. But they're made of meat and bone. I know how to track them and I know how to kill them. It's not the wildlings giving me sleepless nights. You've never been north of the Wall, so don't tell me what's out there" He stated, the serious air returning once more and the man stood up.

"Do you think he's seen any of it out there before?" Sam whispered to Jon.

"I don't know, he's never talked to me about, but it would seem so from what he's saying"

"Are you going below?" Yoren asked rising himself and Benjen gave a nod. "Keep well, keep warm" He clapped Benjen on the shoulder.

"Enjoy the capital, brother"

"I always do" Yoren replied and after Benjen exited the room, Tyrion spoke up.

"I think he's starting to like me" Yoren laughed. "Going below"?

"Into the tunnel and out the other side. He'll be north of the Wall for a month or two" He explained.

Jon got a bad feeling. Two months out there with White Walkers and whatever other dangers were lurking out there. He silently prayed for his uncles' safe return.

"So, you're heading down to King's Landing too"

"Day after tomorrow" Yoren replied. "I get about half of my recruits from their dungeons"

"Let's share the road. I could use some decent company"

"I… I travel a bit on the grubby side, my Lord"

"Not this time. We'll be staying at the finest castles and inns. No one turns away a Lannister.


[With Daenerys]

Irri is braiding Daenerys hair while Dany practices her Dothraki. Irri notices something about Dany and her hand suddenly reaches out to feel Daenerys' breast.

The boys turned a bit red-faced at the action. The silver haired girl sitting in the room not far away, was certainly beautiful and the revealing outfit she was wearing on screen was definitely not helping matters.

"What're you doing?" Dany asked with a hint of confusion.

"When was last time you bleed, Khaleesi? You change, Khaleesi. It's a blessing from the great Stallion" The young hand maiden said and placed a hand on Dany's stomach, switching to Dothraki mid-sentence

Her eyes widened when the meaning of the implications dawned on her. She was with child. That… That was shocking. She'd always wanted to have children someday, but so soon? Was it the right time? And with a man like Khal Drogo? She looked happy enough in the episodes, but was it what she truly wanted? Dany couldn't help the cacophony of thoughts that whirled in her mind.

The others seemed to come to the same conclusion and the atmosphere in the room turned a bit awkward with the others sneaking glances her way or avoiding looking at her.


[Jorah and Rakharo around a fire in a tent]

"For a man on horseback, the curved blade is a good thing, easier to handle. It's a good weapon for a Dothrakan. But a man in full plate…" Jorah says and uses his hand to gesture to his upper body to get his message across. "The Arakh won't get through the steel. That's where the broadsword has the advantage. Designed for piercing plate"

How do they even fight with those strange blades? Robb couldn't see how one could effectively shield or parry with such a weapon. Yes, it would probably do well offensively, but there was more to sword fighting than just slashing.

"Dothraki don't wear steel dresses" Rakharo says in Dothraki.

"Armor" Jorah corrects. He had been teaching the boy some of the Westerosi language lately as he was one of the Khaleesi's personal guards.

"Armor make a man… Vroz?"

"Slow"

"Slow" Rakharo repeated.

"It's true, but it also keeps a man alive"

"My father taught me how to fight. He taught me that speed defeats size" Rakharo spoke in Dothraki.

"I've heard that your father was a famous warrior"

"He was bloodrider to Khal Bharbo… And your father, Jorah the Andal? He was a warrior also?" The young man asked curiously.

"What's a 'bloodrider'?" Arya asked.

"They—"/" It's—" Both Tyrion and Sam spoke up at the same time.

"Oh, sorry, go ahead" Sam apologized nervously and Tyrion continued.

"A bloodrider is a Dothraki warrior who had pledged his life in the service of his Khal. His blood is considered the Khal's blood. It's basically their version of a Kingsguard"

Arya nodded satisfied.

"He still is. A man of great honor. And I betrayed him" Jorah answered; eyes downcast in shame.

Ned grimaced. He remembered clearly how distraught the old bear had been when he'd gotten the news of Jorahs' betrayal and subsequent exile.

Another person entered the tent they were resting in, Irri, the flaps of the tent swaying lightly as she entered. "The Khaleesi wants to eat something different tonight. Kill some rabbits" She told Rakharo.

"There are no rabbits"

"Find some ducks, she likes ducks"

"Have you seen any ducks, woman? No rabbits, no ducks. Do you have eyes in your head? Do you?" The young Dothraki warrior was getting annoyed with her attitude.

Some laughed a bit at his annoyance.

"Dog then. I have seen many dogs"

"I don't think she wants to eat dog" Jorah interrupted hesitantly.

Irri went silent for a second, scrutinizing them with a piercing stare "… The Khaleesi have baby inside her. It is true. She does not bleed for two moons. Her belly start to swell"

Both Jorah and Rakharo straightened at the news. "A blessing from the Great Stallion" Rakharo muttered.

"The Great Stallion? The fuck is that?" Theon asked.

"It's their horse god" Sam answered before Tyrion had a chance to speak up.

"They worship… a horse?" He was honestly confused.

Sam just shrugged in response.

"She does not want to eat horse"

Jorah sat there deep in his thoughts. "I'll have the boys butcher a goat for supper" He told Irri and she left the room with a curt nod. "I need to ride to Qohor" Jorah said suddenly, standing up and grabbing his sword.

"We ride for Vaes Dothrak"

"Don't worry. I'll catch you. The horde's easy to find" Jorah replied and left the tent.


[Back again in the courtyard of Castle Black. Jon is battling his brothers in black as Tyrion overlooks from the balcony]

Jon blocks a strong overhead strike from Grenn. He locks their swords at the hilts, twisting it roughly and quickly yanking it out of Grenn's weakened hold, bringing his own to Grenn's throat. Which Grenn slapped away playfully grinning all-the-while.

"Don't stand so still. It's harder to hit a moving target" Jon advised him, he looked up feeling eyes on him and he locked gazes briefly with Tyrion whom gave a little lopsided smirk and then turned to Pyp. "… Except for you. You move too much. I could just hold my sword out and let you do the work for me"

"Teaching the other recruits, Snow? Don't tell me you had a change of heart" Robb joked and Jon grinned.

"I'm just being kind, and sharing my amazing talent in sword-fighting" Jon boasted, puffing out his chest.

"…You're barely defeating green as grass boys who've never wielded swords in their lives, wouldn't get so cocky if I were you" The hound mocked, and Robb and Theon laughed loudly. Jon instantly deflated and his face turned sour.

Tyrion reenters the hall to speak and drink with Aemon and Lord Commander

"How many winters have you seen, Lord Tyrion?" Said Maester Aemon, his voice gravelly. The aged man staring ahead with a resolute expression.

"Eight... no, nine"

"All of them brief?" The Maester prodded.

"They say the winter of my birth was three years long, Maester Aemon"

"This summer has lasted nine. But reports from the Citadel tell us the days grow shorter. The Starks are always right eventually: winter is coming. This one will be long and dark things will come with it" An ominous music played in the background as the Master talked.

"Damn, that's some creepy music…"

"Mm-hmm"

"We've been capturing wildlings, more every month. They're fleeing south. The ones who flee... say they've seen the White Walkers" Jeor Mormont added.

"Yes, and the fishermen of Lannisport say they see mermaids"

"One of our own rangers swore he saw them kill his companions. He swore it right up to the moment Ned Stark chopped his head off"

"And he was right, even though it sounds completely mad" Davos added.

Aemon cut in again, his raspy, old and dry voice echoing off the cold wooden walls of the hall. "The Night's Watch is the only thing standing between the realm and what lies beyond. And it has become an army of undisciplined boys and tired old men. There are less than a thousand of us now. We can't man the other castles on the Wall. We can't properly patrol the wilderness. We've barely enough resources to keep our lads armed and fed"

"Your sister sits by the side of the King. Tell her we need help" Jeor implored and Tyrion looked away from his aged face.

Tyrion snorted. The mere thought of his sister even contemplating that request was totally ridiculous. Especially when that request came from him of all people.

"When winter does come, gods help us all if we're not ready"


[The screen roves over the Dragon eggs illuminated by the candles, showing the campfire and scattered clothes on the ground and over to The Khal and Daenerys who lay intertwined on the bed. Daenerys tilts her head to looks at Drogo and surprises him by speaking in Dothraki.

The eyes of the viewers flickered away from the scene, except a select few. Such private moments were very uncomfortable to watch.

"It's a boy"

He raises a curious eyebrow. "How do you know?"

"I know" She replies with a Cheshire smile and leans up to plant a chaste kiss on his lips.


[Atop the Wall]

Tyrion is pissing off of the wall. When done, he pulls up his breaches and turns to meet Jon's, an amused smile adorning his usually brooding face.

Sansa gasped and turned her head away hurriedly.

"Of course you'd piss off the edge off the wall, cause why not. It's not like you'll plummet hundreds of feet unto your death with a single slip up" Davos said sarcastically.

"Only you, dwarf, only you" Bronn added.

"Aren't you afraid that you'll fall?" Arya asked.

"What is life without a little fun every now and then" Tyrion replied.

"I'm sorry to see you leave, Lannister" Jon speaks up suddenly and Tyrion eyes him with wide eyes, surprise evident.

"It's either me or this cold. And it doesn't appear to be going anywhere" Tyrion replied.

"Will you stop at Winterfell on your way South?"

"I expect I will. Gods know there aren't many feather beds between here and King's Landing"

"…If you see my brother Bran, tell him I miss him… Tell him I'd visit if I could"

Tyrion nods sympathetically. "Of course,"

"He'll never walk again" Jon says in low whisper, sadness seeping into his voice.

"If you're going to be a cripple, it's better to be a rich cripple" Tyrion says and offers his hand to Jon.

"True"

"Take care, Snow"

"Farewell, My Lord"

"When did you guys get so buddy-buddy, huh?" Theon asked, a bit surprised at the unlikely friendship.

"Well, we haven't gotten all 'buddy-buddy' as you put it, yet" Tyrion replied.


[Arya arrives to her "dance lesson" in King's Landing]

Arya's tiny pair of feet can be seen taking slow and quiet steps into a room in which a man is standing with two wooden swords crossed behind his back while looking out over the Capital. "You are late, boy. Tomorrow you will be here at midday" The foreign voice speaks up mildly startling Arya.

"He speaks funny"

"Yeah"

"He looks kind of weird too"

She eyes him warily. "Who are you?

"Your dancing master, Syrio Forel" He says, taking out the swords behind his back in a grand pose and then proceeds to throw Arya a sword, which she isn't able catch.

The viewers laughed at her inability to catch the sword.

"Hey! It isn't funny, stop laughing" Arya grumbled and elbowed her father with all the strength her tiny frame could muster. Though Ned barely seemed to take notice and continued chuckling at the scene.

The man now introduced as Syrio Forel, holds his sword downwards on the stony ground and crosses his hands over the hilt of the sword. "Tomorrow you will catch it. Now pick it up" He says. Arya rolls her eyes but nonetheless walks over to pick up the sword.

"That is not the way, boy" He states, seeing Arya's twohanded grip on the sword. "This is not a great sword that is needing two hands to swing it"

More snickers erupted among the viewers.

"Did he just call you a boy?" Theon laughed alongside Jon and Robb.

"I hate you guys" Arya grumbled to herself, crossing her arms over her chest and turning away from the boys with a huff.

She tries to hold it up with one, but fails and it clatters down to the ground.

"It's too heavy"

"It is as heavy as it needs to be to make you strong" He throws the sword up into the air, catching it on his knuckles with perfect balance. "Just so. One hand is all that is needed"

"Now…" He continues. "You are standing all wrong. Turn your body side-face"

Arya does as bid and Syrio fixes her posture where it is needed with his sword. "You are skinny. That is good. The target is smaller" He says grinning. "Now the grip..." Arya shows him her grip on the sword" Let me see. The grip must be delicate"

"What if I drop it?"

"The steel must be part of your arm. Can you drop part of your arm? No. Nine years Syrio Forel was first sword to the Sealord of Braavos. He knows these things. You must listen to me, boy"

"First Sealord of Braavos?" Jon blinked at the title.

"I believe I can answer that one" Davos said. "First Sword of Braavos is a title held by the chief protector and champion of the Sealord of Braavos. While the Sealord is the elected ruler of Braavos"

"Elected?" Robb prompted.

"Ah, yes, in the free city of Braavos, the position of ruler is non-hereditary, meaning that one can't claim rulership through right of succession. Instead they chose a leader who then serves for life. Much like how the Kingsguard or the Night's Watch elect Lord Commanders" Davos finished.

Jon and Robb, and many other nodded at that tidbit of information.

"I'm a girl" She's more than a bit irked at him for misjudging her gender.

"Boy, girl... You are a sword, that is all… That is the grip. You are not holding a battle-axe. You are holding a—"

"A needle" Arya interjects with a smirk.

"Ahhh… Just so" He chuckles. "Now we will begin the dance. Remember, child, this is not the dance of the Westeros we are learning... The knight's dance, hacking and hammering" He swings his sword in swiftly to make his point.

"…This is the Bravo's dance... The water dance. It is swift and sudden" This time his movements are elegant and no movements wasted and each movement flowing beautifully into the next. "All men are made of water; do you know this? If you pierce them" He gently pokes Arya in the stomach. ", the water leaks out and they die. Now you will try to strike me"

"Water dance? What kind of horseshit is that?" The Hound scoffed, unimpressed.

He turns around and walks away confidently with his back turned to Arya and her eyes suddenly light up with an idea.

"Ha!" She cries out, rushing forward with her sword raised towards her teachers' head, but the man sways to the side, easily evading her strike without looking.

Arya takes several swings at Syrio, while he defends and disarms her with minimal effort. She starts picking up on a few things as they continue their practice.

Arya was beaming at this point. She couldn't wait for this to happen. Finally, she was going to learn how to fight and ride like she'd always wanted to. She wouldn't have to be 'proper lady' like Sansa, no, this was what she wanted.

Ned stop at the doorway and smiles when he sees his daughter practicing. However, his smile turns into a grimace as the teacher and student clash swords and the sounds turn to metal weapons clanging and warriors shouting.

"W-what is going on?" Catelyn was growing progressively anxious as the volume of the shouting increased. She glanced at Ned and was shocked to see his expression mirror that of the Ned in the screen. "Ned, are you alright?" She asked, her voice laced with concern.

Ned snapped out of his daze at her words and saw the look of alarm on his wife' face.. "I—Uh… I'm fine, don't worry" He tried to sound as nonchalant as possible to ease Cat, but inwardly he was nervous beyond belief. The sight of Arya practicing had elicited some bad memories. Memories that he did not want to deal with at this moment.

"Up! Dead. Dead. Very dead. Come. Again, faster" Syrio taunts each time he spots an opening in Arya's fighting.

The war cries of battle get louder and Ned takes a fearful gulp, the screen plunging into darkness.

Some experienced fighters in the room understood the meaning of that scene perfectly, but did not comment on it. It was obviously something that the man did not wish to speak about.


AN:

So, I'm finally done with the third chapter of The Watchers On The Couch. I apologize for the long wait and happily present to you this 16k word chapter. I'm not sure if I'm entirely happy with this one, so I might end up doing some rewriting. Though, that may very well depend on the reviews.

The story in itself has reached 150+ follows and 100+ favorites, which I must say, makes me feel giddy inside, especially since there were only two chapters until now and the story is barely over a month old! Knowing that people appreciate the work I put into this, feels amazing :)

Previously I asked if I should add any more characters to the story and there were mixed responses to this. I'll think about it some more and If I decide to add any more characters, it'll probably happen in the next chapter.

On another note, I'll most likely do a short AN chapter when I'm halfway with finishing the next chapter, answering some of your question if you have any. I'm also thinking about getting some beta-readers for the story. It would give me more insight as to how the viewers perceive the story and also help the story improve drastically.

~Please Favorite, Follow and Review~ Zenix404 ~