Ormund had mixed feelings about leaving Winterfell. On the one hand, even if he despised King's Landing and everything inside it, it was still the only home he had ever known. As a whole, however, Winterfell had seemed much more pleasant. There was something far more authentic about it and its residents. He smelled an air of honesty about it, something that he hardly recognized at first.

Witnessing the Stark family was an even stranger yet more pleasing experience. Eddard and Catelyn Stark genuinely loved one another, something he dearly wished his own parents were capable of. Lord Stark was honest and forthright, an excellent choice for Hand of the King and perhaps an individual who could finally clean up the corruption.

After he saved Bran's life, all of the hostility the Stark siblings felt towards him had immediately evaporated. Jon and Robb treated him as one of their own, the greatest compliment they could give him. Even Sansa had warmed up to him somewhat, though she still considered him too crude for her liking.

He looked over at his Father, who was laughing and wrapping his arm around Ned's shoulder. Ormund's father was happier than he'd seen him in years.

"I'm glad to have met your family." Ormund announced, mostly telling the truth. "Well, perhaps I should say future members of my family, considering that my brother's about to be married."

"Thank you for saving my brother's life." Robb clasped his hand on Ormund's shoulder. "He'd be dead if not for your actions."

"I merely did what was right." Ormund was inwardly glowing when he heard the praise, though attempted to act humble. "Your brother might not be able to walk again, but that doesn't change who he is." He doubted any of his siblings would turn their backs on him, though he had seen cruel surprises in the past.

"Your Grace, please do everything you can to protect my sisters." Robb all but pleaded with him. "I know little of the city, but if it is anything like you described it, they'll be in constant danger."

"You don't even need to ask me that." Ormund shook his head. "We are going to be family, after all. We'll be future good-brothers, however difficult it might be to imagine." He couldn't help but laugh.

"No more difficult than seeing Sansa as the queen of Westeros." Jon pointed out. "If I ever see her again, I'll have to start bowing and calling her 'Your Grace'." His jovial face turned into a more concerned one. "I merely hope your brother is good is her."

"I'm sure they will be; they seem quite taken with each other." Ormund had already seen the two of them kissing, even if he had elected not to disturb them in the act.

"Farewell, Your Grace." Robb said his final goodbyes to the Prince. "I hope your journey is safe and uneventful. And I hope we meet again soon."

"And thank you for persuading me not to go to the Night's Watch for the moment… even if you could have been more polite about it." Jon sighed slightly. "I don't know if my path will lead me there regardless but it's not a decision I have to make now."

"I hope the next time we meet, it'll be under more pleasant circumstances." Ormund waved. "However short our meeting might have been, it's a welcome break from the Capital. I only wish I'd be able to see more of your land."

"When we meet again, I hope we'll be able to undertake that hunting trip you were talking about when we first met." Jon suggested. "It's been some time since any of us were able to spare the time."

"Or we could have another sparring match and see you defeat him once again." Robb laughed.

"If we do, I promise you: I won't lose to you again, Snow." Ormund was still slightly angry about what happened, though he decided to let it pass. "I underestimated you once; I won't do so again." He laughed at the very thought. "Farewell, Good-brother."

"Farewell, Your Grace." Jon smiled slightly at that, fully aware how much it annoyed Ormund.

XXXXXXXXXX

He spent a great deal of his time during their journey back to King's landing watching how Joffrey and Sansa interacted with each other. They were laughing, joking, with Sansa's hands all over him. For Joffrey's part, he appeared entranced with her. Neither of them knew that Ormund was watching them, of course; he'd learned how to keep to the shadows a long time before this.

It had become close to an obsession with him. The instant they left Winterfell, Ormund had promised himself that he would speak to Ned Stark about the capital and how best to keep from being murdered in his sleep, but had not yet gotten around to it. When he wasn't exploring the countryside or trading wits with Tyrion, he was observing his brother and future good-sister.

However overjoyed he might have been for his brother, there was an empty feeling in Ormund's heart that shouldn't be there. He expected to be relieved at the thought of his older brother no longer annoying and frequently tormenting him, but instead he felt the opposite. He had become accustomed to Joffrey's presence, however unbearable he frequently considered it.

"It's only natural to miss your brother." His mother had told him when she encountered Ormund sitting, feeling sorry for himself. He should have known that his mother wouldn't leave him alone for long about the subject.

"I don't miss him!" Ormund had denied, his face red. "I don't miss him at all! I was just wondering what it would be like to have a young woman look at me that way." He had found that the most effective types of lies were ones that were coated in truth. Ormund did wonder what such an experience would be. It wasn't as if he didn't have opportunity, as numerous noble families had tried all but pimping their daughters to him in an effort to gain favor at court.

"You can't lie to me, sweetie." His mother had shaken her head, smiling slightly. "Just because your brother is infatuated with his bride-to-be doesn't mean that he doesn't care about you anymore."

"Mother, I'm fine." Ormund refused to admit weakness to anyone. "I am slightly envious at the fact that he's found a young woman who loves him so, but that doesn't mean I actually miss him! I'm happier without dealing with all his bullshit!" She left him alone after that, but wasn't convinced. He was attempting to convince himself and was doing a rather poor job of it.

At the moment, though, he had more important business to conduct. From what little he did know of his father's best friend, Ned Stark was not at all suited to life in King's Landing. He was decent and honorable, two traits that did not lead to a long life expectancy.

He moved his house next to Ned's, hoping to catch his attention. When he saw that Stark was lost in his own thoughts, Ormund was forced to interrupt him. "Lord Stark, I need to speak with you." Ormund demanded. "It's quite important and it can't wait."

"Of course, Your Grace." Ned bowed his head. His father was paying little attention, telling dirty jokes to his entourage. His mother would still be in the carriage, meaning that neither of them would notice his disappearance.

"I need to speak with you in private; this isn't something I want anyone to overhear." Ormund mentioned in a tone that brooked no disagreement. Stark acquiesced and the two of them moved ahead of the column. Both were well aware that this would make some suspicious, but it was better than actually being overheard.

"Lord Stark, what do you know about life in King's Landing?" Ormund asked once he was reasonably sure that they would not be eavesdropped on. He needed to know if his worries were correct.

"I've heard many things, little of it good." Ned Stark frowned. He was clearly unhappy about being the Hand of the King and had reluctantly accepted it for his father's sake. Ormund remembered an old Valyrian saying that men best suited for power were individuals that were the most reluctant to take it. Stark qualified there, no doubt.

"Well, in that case, I hope you're willing to listen to what I have to say about that shithole of a city." Hopefully unlike Sansa, Ned would at least be willing to hear him out. "The rule is simple: trust no one. Everyone has their own agendas, their own plans, and the truth is a completely foreign concept to them."

"I suspected as much." Ned sighed. "I care little for the city, but Robert is my oldest friend and this is the least I can do to honor him."

Even after everything that happened, he still doesn't fully trust me. Ormund noted with some displeasure. On the other hand, that kind of approach might make the difference between life and death for him. "The first thing you should know is that my father was not joking or exaggerating. You're going to be the one doing most of the actual ruling. He's sat over perhaps half a dozen Small Council meetings in his entire reign."

"What?!" Ned screamed, his horse nearly throwing him in response.

"Hard to believe, perhaps, but it's true." Ormund shrugged. "Over the last year where I've been sitting in on them, he hasn't shown up once. Uncle Stannis and Jon Arryn did most of the actual government, while he focused on other pursuits." As his father's oldest friend, Ned Stark no doubt knew what they were, but he decided not to speak of it out loud.

"How could Robert have done that?" Ned scowled. "I've known him since he was a boy and he frequently skipped his lessons, but I can't conceive of him treating the crown with such indifference."

"He's never said as much to me, but my father hates being King." Ormund confessed, hoping that Stark would be able to at least partially motivate his father to take a more active role. "A couple times, I've even heard him say how much he wished he could abdicate the throne and become a sellsword in Essos. He cares nothing for running the realm. I do not wish to denigrate my father, but the truth is what it is and you deserve to know it. You need to know what you're walking into."

"Thank you for warning me, Your Grace." Ned bowed his head in thanks. "I still find it a little much to believe, however."

"Well, anything you heard about this city doesn't even come close to the truth." Ormund admitted. "I've done a few things to clean up the corruption, but it's like trying to hold back the Narrow Sea with your bare hands. The Small Council meetings are dull and tedious, though I do my utmost to suffer through them. With you as Hand of the King, I am hopeful that we will be able to curtail things before we collapse."

"I cannot believe Robert has reduced the realm to such a state." Ned Stark could hardly believe what he was hearing. "Surely Jon Arryn and his brother Stannis would be able to talk some sense into him."

"When it comes to economic matters, my father refuses to listen to anyone." Ormund sighed. "He has had shouting matches with both of them, but he will not bend and ultimately, he is the king and his word is law. I've managed to persuade him a few times, but there's only so much I can do. I'm hoping since you're his closest friend, you'll have better luck than the rest of us."

"If the city is as bad as you claim, I will set it to order." Stark vowed. "I'm sure I can get through to Robert."

"My father isn't actually a fool, even if most at court only see him as a drunken, lustful king." Ormund warned. "The problem is that he's fallen rather deep into despair and has become indifferent to his duties." Most of the time, Ormund wanted nothing to do with the throne and was happy to leave Joffrey the burden. Every so often, though… he wished he was the oldest son so he could set the city to rights.

"He truly did love her after all." Ned Stark remarked after a minute of silence. It took Ormund a moment to realize he was referring to his sister, Lyanna.

"You're going to be little more than a target, you and your daughters." Ormund decided to cut right to the chase. "You might be the second-most powerful man in Westeros on paper, but you're an outsider. You have no power base, no allies, no spies, yet you're going to have to play the Game of Thrones."

"I don't know how you Southerners do things, but up North, we do not play games." Ned Stark refused to listen. "I refuse to take bribes and succumb to corruption as you say so many others in the city have. Setting the city to rights will be my first priority, along with discovering Jon Arryn's murderer, but I will not play the game."

"I beg your pardon, Lord stark, but you really don't have a choice." Ormund was seriously tempted to grab a mace in order to see if anything was capable of getting through Stark's thick head. "So long as you are Hand of the King, you must play in order to survive. If not for yourself, think of your daughters and your men. Sansa is going to be queen and she's never had to worry about others trying to use her for their own gain.

"Nor can you expect any support from the Small Council, especially not now that Lord Arryn is dead and Uncle Stannis has fled to Dragonstone for reasons known only to him. I'll be blunt with you: I was listening to the conversation you had with my father. He's right; a war is coming, a truly terrible war, and it must be prevented."

"You were spying on us?" Stark glared at Ormund, a small scowl on his face.

"You'd better get used to that." Ormund dismissed. "As the King's hand, you're going to be watched every second of every day. Wherever you go, somebody is going to know about it. So are you willing to take my advice or would you prefer to blunder your way through your office?"

"Very well, inform me of everything." Stark responded with a resigned voice.

"Renly's not exactly corrupt, but he does not take his duties seriously in the least." Ormund did not mention his Uncle's depravity. It was an open secret at court; his father was probably one of the only men who didn't know. "Pycelle is my Grandfather's creature. He serves House Lannister completely, so anything you say to him is certain to reach Tywin's ears."

"Does the King know of this?" Realization was beginning to reach Stark's brain.

"Quite honestly, he's harmless compared to Varys and Littlefinger." Pycelle did not worry Ormund. While hardly the foolish old man he pretended to be, he was at least only focused on supporting House Lannister. "Those two are vastly more dangerous and even now, I have no clue what they truly want or what their ultimate goal is. Varys knows everything about everyone, it seems like. I'd like to know his secret.

"Littlefinger gets away with what he does because few see him as a threat. Oh, they don't actually trust him; it's just that he's seen as a harmless prankster and not a dangerous enemy. As Master of Coin, he's made himself too invaluable to be removed." Not to mention too clever. Ormund had replaced a few of his cronies with his own men once they were caught embezzling. He had a strong inkling that Littlefinger had a lot more to do with the debt than anyone believed, but had never been able to find any hard evidence to prove it.

"I still cannot believe Robert would allow that… man to become Master of Coin." Stark's voice was full of venom, something that delighted Ormund.

"Yes, well, the King is a big spender and Baelish has a gift for discovering Gold Dragons as if they were merely lying about on the ground." Ormund shrugged. "Then there are of course his boasts about taking your wife's maidenhood."

"Baelish has said this?" Ned had some skepticism in his voice, though the rising anger indicated that he was willing to hear him out.

"Yes. In fact, he's claimed to have taken the maidenheads of both your wife and your good-sister Lysa." Ormund confirmed. "In fact, he's willing to give every last detail to anyone who wants to listen. I doubt too many actually believe him, but they enjoy a good dirty story." Stark still appeared very skeptical of Ormund's claim. "Oh, you don't have to take my word on this. I would be amazed if you did, in fact. Once we arrive at King's Landing, you're free to verify what I've told you for yourself."

"Thank you for informing me of this." Ned Stark's voice turned to ice. He gripped the reins of his horse so tightly that his hands began to turn blue. "I am glad to know that I can count on at least one ally in King's Landing." Ned went silent and refused to speak any more, ending the conversation and moving back to Robert's side.

Ormund allowed himself a private smirk. While he wasn't above lying when it found it necessary, he had learned over time that the truth could be a far more devastating weapon. Littlefinger had indeed bragged of taking Lady Catelyn's maidenhood to anyone who could tolerate listening to him. He'd heard many stories of the short tempers of Northerners and while Ormund knew not to accept such stories at face value, the look on Stark's face told him that he was ready to kill.

With luck, Stark would gut Littlefinger and save him the trouble.