And we've breached the 40K word barrier, woo!
Thank you all for sticking with it until this point, support has been amazing from the reviewers.
Before you start reading though, this chapter is bit longer than the others because I maybe crammed a bit much in but me and a few other thought it was best done this way.

Kingslanding, The Crowlands, Westeros

The sea winds battered against the walls of the Red Keep, making it hard for anyone to keep a hold on the centuries old stonework, but that wasn't a problem for the person trying to get in tonight. Feeling for handholds the thief slowly scaled the outer wall of the castle, digging a small pick into stone bricks where he couldn't find any and never once looking down, lest the height harm his nerves. The moon was high that evening and the clouds virtually nonexistent, this was however both a boon and a curse, for the way may be easier to see but the guards would also be able to see more clearly as well.

After nearly a solid hour of climbing the thief found himself at the top of the outer wall, looking over cautiously he saw he was in the gardens of the grand castle. After a quick glance around for guards he slid over the top of the wall and dug a spike into the wall to hang a rope off of, both to allow himself to descend but also as a quick way to escape if need be. Slowly lowering himself into the garden and behind a few trees he made sure to make as little noise as he could, relying on experience to avoid any possibly crumbling bricks.

Touching down onto the grass softly the thief hung the rope on a low branch before crouching down and beginning to creep through the carefully maintained flowers, hedgerows and trees. Every so often he stops to listen, checking for footsteps against gravel, but he's only met by the rustle of leaves from the wind.

Slowly making his way through the garden the thief eventually comes to the wall of the Keep itself. Looking around to check for guards one last time before he begins to scale it he lowers himself behind a hedge when he sees a torch in the distance. Waiting patiently the guard passes by, none the wiser. When the thief sees the torch disappear behind a corner he stands back up and pulls his small pick out again he begins his hazardous ascent, moving very slowly and making care to stay as quiet as possible.

A few dozen feet up he tries to dig the pick into the wall when he found himself without a handhold higher up but instead of latching onto the stonework it finds a crumbling part of the old construction. Purely on a reflex action the thief clamps his left hand as tight as he can and pushes himself away from the now falling mortar that crashes down in to the garden with an audible thud. Not waiting to see if someone will investigate he begins his ascent again, making for the first window he can see, which is a mere eight feet away.

Reaching the window ledge just as the orange glow of a torch becomes visible below he clambers in, sighing slightly as he relaxes on the solid stone floor. Looking around he seems to have reached a bedroom of some kind. Sliding the pick back into its place on his belt he slowly stands to get a better look around, he had indeed entered someone's bedroom, the occupant sleeping soundly in a large bed. Silently creeping around the room the thief searches for anything worth the visit.

After a few tense minutes of searching the room and glancing back to the bed to see if the occupant has stirred the thief carefully opens a large chest in the corner and searches through it. Inside there appears to only be various bundles of clothes and such but the thief persists and is rewarded for his time. Feeling something long, thin and hard bundled in some cloth he slowly extracts it and begins unwrapping it. Only a few mere moments later he finds himself holding a long and thin sword of clear quality. Smirking to himself he slides the scabbard into his belt and quietly makes his way out o the room, soon finding himself in the annoyingly well lit hallway.

Sighing in annoyance the thief moves down the hallway as quietly as he can and checking each corner before turning round it, waiting for any guards to move along on their patrols and past him before trying to move past them. After nearly getting lost a couple of times the thief eventually finds the stairs he's been looking for and quickly ascends.

Several floors later he finds the room he's been looking for. Carefully opening the door and slipping in before closing is quickly and quietly he looks around for his target. Seeing the large bed he slowly creeps towards it, never taking his eyes off of the sleeping occupant. When he finally reaches the bed he glances around for the object he wants, quickly seeing it on the bedside table. Reaching over he picks up the small pin shaped as a fist in a circle and silently slinks off, again never taking his eyes off of the sleeping man in the bed.

Closing the door behind him the thief quickly makes his way to the adjacent chamber, knowing it should be empty. Opening the door and closing it behind him he sees nothing but the dark of the room set against the moonlight spilling in through the window. True to his word the thief's client had left a generous amount of rope. Picking up the long coil and walking to the window he looks out to gauge the distance to the ground.

"My little bird said you were good, but I have to say I didn't expect you to succeed." Swivelling around in alarm as an orange light flickers into existence from the far corner of the room. Sitting in a chair, wafting a small stick of fire out after having lit a candle, is a rather rotund, bald man. "Don't look so alarmed, you must have known this was too good to be true." He cocked his head slightly. "Mustn't you, Delvin mallory?"

Delvin threw the rope off of his shoulder. "It crossed my mind." He crossed his arms. "Litle birds eh? That what you call them?"

The bald one shrugged slightly. "I'm sure those in your business have names for your informers, and I find it's quite appropriate." He stood and walked over to Delvi. "My name is Varys, and I believe I may have some use for you."

"That right?" Delvin frowned and rested a hand on the hilt of the thin sword he'd stolen earlier. "That why you sent the boy to hire me was it?"

Varys nodded. "It was. I know my associate, Lord Baelish, has already approached you after you arrived and I wanted to see who this thief he'd been trying to get was. I have to say I'm impressed by the results."

"Yeah I met the guy, didn't seem like much."

"I advise you not the underestimate this man, he's far from harmless." Varys said without changing his expression an inch. "Now, I'm sure you want to hear what I ask."

Delvin smirked slightly. "Yeah, I do."

The other, paler man smiled slightly. "I offer you help in your endeavours in the capital, and protection from Lord Baelish. In return I will require your expertise in stealth and... acquirement, among other things, which will of course be fully paid for."

"Right, so I scratch your back, you scratch mine?"

"Precisely."

Mallory nodded slightly. "Think you've got yerself a deal there. You keep the city watch off my back and I'll do some jobs for you." The seasoned thief held out a hand.

Varys looked at the hand for a moment before reaching out with his own pale one and shaking it. "I think this the start of a successful partnership." He said with a small smile.

Delvin smirked and nodded. "I hope it is anyway." He pulled his hand away and picked up the rope again, securing the end of it to the large table in the chamber.

"Oh." Varys spoke up. "Before you go, I'll take the pin of the hand."

The Breton sighed and tossed the pin over, which Varys caught. "And the Hand's daughters sword." He added.

Frowning slightly Delvin walked over and handed the small sword to the bald man. "Your little bird had better have the pay when I get back to the inn." He muttered before walking back to the window and swinging out, getting ready to climb down.

"I assure you my little bird has the gold waiting for you." Varys spoke evenly as he checked the rope on the table. "Along with a little... gift, as a sign of co-operation."

Delvin smirked. "To co-operation." He chuckled before descending the rope, back down to the garden below.

The eyrie, The Vale, Westeros

Idolaf stood in the throne room of the Eyrie for the second time now, though this time it was filled with several of the other lords of the Vale, along with the survivors from lady Catelyns band of knights and a few of the Imperial Turma. Leaning against the back wall were Bronn the sellsword and Njorn, the two of them having taken to sharing various stories over drinks and on occasion swapping songs. Neither Idolaf, Njorn or any of the other legionaries were in their armour, instead just wearing simple tunics.

Up on the throne the boy, lord Robin, was banging something against the white wood of the throne. His mother however was looking down at the man that everyone was gathered in the room for. "You wish to confess your crimes?"

Tyrion Lannister looked slightly at the ground. "Yes, my Lady. I do, my Lady."

Lysa smiled and turned to Lady Catelyn, who was standing next to the throne. "The Sky cells always break them." Still smiling she turned back to Tyrion. "Speak, Imp. Meet your gods as an honest man."

Tyrion glanced around the room for a moment. "Where do I begin, my Lords and Ladies? I'm a vile man, I confess it. My crimes and sins are beyond counting. I have lied and cheated, gambled and whored. I'm not particularly good at violence, but I'm good at convincing others to do violence for me." Idolaf could hear Njorn chuckling behind him and Idolaf turned to join him against the wall.

"So different from our trials." He muttered and nodded slightly at Bronn before looking back to the centre of the room.

Tyrion continued speaking "You want specifics, I suppose. When I was seven, I saw a servant girl bathing in the river. I stole her robe. She was forced to return to the castle naked and in tears." Lannister bowed his head slightly. "If I close my eyes, I can still see her tits bouncing." Again Njorn chuckled and was joined by the sellsword. "When I was ten, I stuffed my Uncle's boots with goatshit. When confronted with my crime, I blamed a squire. Poor boy was flogged and I escaped justice."

"Sounds like Balgruuf's boys, eh Idolaf?" Njorn nudged him with a smirk.

Tyrion spoke up again, his voice still filled with what sounded like remorse. "When I was twelve, I milked my eel into a pot of turtle stew." A few gasps murmured throughout the hall. "I flogged the one-eyed snake." A few of the knights from the Riverlands and Lords from the Vale began chuckling, with several of the ladies smirking. "I skinned my sausage. I made the bald man cry..." Tyrion rangled his chains just below his waist line, clearly imitating cracking one off. "Into the turtle stew, which I do believe my sister ate, at least I hope she did." Idolaf tried to suppress a laugh and had some measure of success. "I once brought a jackass and a honeycomb into a brothel..."

"Silence!" Lysa Arryn called as she stood up, scowling at the dwarf.

"What happened next?" Robin asked innocently, well at least he doesn't know about that, Idolaf thought.

Lysa held a hand out to stop Robin but kept looking at Tyrion. "What do you think you're doing?"

Tyrion responded in a quite clearly fabricated confused tone. "Confessing my crimes."

"Lord Tyrion." Catelyn spoke this time. "You are accused of hiring a man to slay my son Bran in his bed, and of conspiring to murder my sister's husband Lord Jon Arryn, the Hand of the King."

"Oh I'm very sorry." The Lannister replied lowly. "I don't know anything about all that."

Lysa scowled. "You've had your little joke. I trust you enjoyed it. Mord!" The jailor, a fat bald man stepped forward. "Take him back to the dungeon. But this time find a smaller cell, with a steeper floor." Idolaf looked across at Njorn who frowned and muttered some curses under his breath.

"Is this how justice is done in the Vale? You accuse me of crimes, I deny them, so you throw me into a cell to freeze and starve?" Tyrion asked, his voice louder than before. "Where is the King's justice? I am accused and demand a trial!"

There were a few murmurs around the room and Lysa scowled again. "If you are tried and found guilty, then by the King's own laws you will pay with your life."

"I understand the law."

Lysa looked at him for a moment. "We have no executioner in the Eyrie, life is more elegant here." Elegant would not be the way Idolaf would describe it and he heard Njorn and Bronn snort slightly. "Open the Moon Door." Lysa commanded as she looked to her left.

Two men nodded and moved over to a corner of the throne room and turned a metal wheel. The sound of pulleys became evident and 'sweet' Robin Arryn clapped in apparent joy. Glancing around Idolaf saw everyone was focused on the centre of the room and he looked to see what it was. In the centre of the room, where Idolaf had just assumed there was a covered well, a metal door opened and wind gusted in, the signs that there was little more than the mountainsides outside.

"You want a trial, my Lord Lannister." Lysa asked mockingly. "Very well. My son will listen to whatever you have to say, and you will hear his judgment. Then you will leave... By one door or the other." She spoke, nodding to the main door of the hall and the moon door beneath her.

"No need to bother Lord Robin. I demand a trial by combat." Tyrion replied evenly before most of the lords and ladies of the Vale began muttering and a few chuckling.

Lysa didn't speak for a while and looked across at her sister for a moment before turning back to the dwarf. "You have that right."

"My lady I beg the honour." One of the knights of the Vale stepped forward. "Let me be your champion."

"The honor should be mine." Another, older knight stood forward. "For the love I bore your Lord husband, let me avenge his death."

Several other knights called out their requests to fight a man who barely came to their waists. "Bunch of milk drinkers." Njorn muttered. "They want to fight a man who can barely walk." Idolaf nodded slowly, how was this justice.

"Make the bad man fly!" Robin's shout stopped the calls of the volunteers for a moment and Lysa gave a half smile while looking at the knight that had brought the company from the Bloody Gates to the Eyrie.

"Ser Vardis." The knight looked up at her. "You're quiet. Don't you want to avenge my husband?"

Vardis stepped forward. "With all my heart, my lady." He knelt down. "But the Imp is half my size. It would be shameful to slaughter such a man and call it justice." At last, a man who had some sense of honour.

Tyrion nodded appreciatively to the knight. "Agreed."

"You demanded a trial by combat." Lysa half spat.

"now I demand a champion." The dwarf continued. "I have that right, same as you."

Ser Vardis stood. "I will gladly fight the Imp's champion, for you." He gave a deep nod to Lysa Arryn.

"I wouldn't be too glad ser." Tyrion smirked. "I name my brother, Jaime Lannister."

Again there were murmurs around the crowd, Jaime Lannister must be a good fighter. "The Kingslayer is hundreds of miles from here." Interesting title.

"Send a raven for him." Tyrion replied. "I'm happy to wait."

Lysa shook her head. "The trial will be today."

Tyrion turned around, looking at the court, and in the direction of Idolaf, Njorn and Bronn in particular. "Do I have a volunteer?" The assembled lords and ladies laughed, so much for justice, it made Idolaf's blood boil. "Anyone?"

Idolaf sighed to himself, he couldn't believe he was about to do this. "I'll stand for him!" He called out as he walked forward, drawing a raised brow from Njorn and a smirk from Bronn who looked like he had been close to volunteering as well.

Tyrion looked at him with a confused expression, probably banked on the sellsword as well. While Lysa turned to look at Catelyn for a moment who also looked confused. Looking back to Idolaf she hesitated for a few moments. "... Very well, you will fight as the Imp's champion." She glanced down at Robin for a moment before looking back up. "According to our laws you are allowed one hour to prepare."

Idolaf nodded and glanced at Tyrion for a moment before walking back to Njorn, who was now standing properly with a grin on his face. "Get my armour, and bring Julius, he'll be needed."

Njorn chuckled and grabbed hold of Idolaf's shoulder for a moment. "Aye. Heh, this should be fun." He smiled broadly and walked off, back to the horses.

Turning around Idolaf saw everyone was looking at him, sighing to himself he also left the room, why was he doing this.

...

An hour later Idolaf returned to the throne room along with Njorn and Julius, the Turma's healer. Now wearing his armour he made for an imposing sight, his natural Nord bulk extenuated by the plate armour and the personal addition of his fur cloak only increased the effect, he looked every part a Nord of the Empire. Nodding slightly to Njorn and Julius the two backed up from him and quietly made their way to the edge of the room, Njorn still grinning at the future fight. There were a few mumbles from the lord and ladies of the Vale about the style of his armour and more than one of the ladies seemed rather more interested than they perhaps should have been.

Moving to the centre of the throne room, Idolaf glanced at Tyrion who looked uncertain and then looked up at Lysa and Robin on the throne. The boy seemed excited about the fight while Lysa had a similar expression to Tyrion's own. Vardis was standing across from him, now wearing a helmet and held his sword in his right hand while a servant was stood beside him with a kite shield.

Up on the throne Lysa again nodded to the two attendants by the wheel and they bowed their heads before slowly cranking it. In the dead centre of the room the Moon Door opened and the wind gushed in again, ruffling Idolaf's cloak.

Across from him Vardis took his shield from his servant and the two men focused on each other, waiting for the signal to start. Soon enough the voice of Robin Arryn rung around the room. "Fight!"

The two men approached each other and Vardis was the first to attack, swinging overhead and down onto the larger Nord. Raising his shield Idolaf let the blow slide off and to his side before he made a thrust at the Valeman.

Vardis too caught blow on his shield and pushed out, driving the Nord back a few steps and continuing his attack, going for a swing from the left.

Bringing his spatha back Idolaf braced himself for the impact and the clang of metal on metal told him he'd succeeded in parrying the blow. Before he could attack however Vardis struck again from the right but Idolaf, acting on pure reflex, brought his shield up and used it to hold Vardis's weapon to the side while he himself attacked in the one way he could with his sword further to the right. Bringing his helmeted head hard onto Vardis's, head butting the man as hard as he could.

The Valeman reeled from the impact and backed up several steps. "Come on Vardis!" Idolaf heard from the crowd as he moved forward and brought his strength to bare against the Valeman, swinging down from above.

To his credit Vardis recovered quickly and brought his shield up just as the sword crashed down on it and chipped the paint and splintered part of the wooden construction. Before Vardis could attack however Idolaf kicked hard onto the valeman's knee and sent him buckling. Swinging round with his shield the Nord battered the metal rimmed round shield into the knight's side, drawing a grunt of pain from him and finally driving him down to the floor proper.

As Vardis scrambled back and ditched his shield Idolaf pointedly looked up at the throne. Lysa Arryn and Catelyn Stark were looking on with anxious and concerned expressions while the boy, Robin, was watching excitedly. Hearing the heavily armoured knight scramble to his feat beside him, Idolaf turned and raised his spatha before yelling out a roar and charging.

The now panting knight grunted and raised his sword to bring a swing down on the Nord as he charged. The blade however found itself clanging against Idolaf's shield and reeled again as the larger, armoured Nord shoulder barged into his side.

As Idolaf backed up to give himself some more space the Valeman lifted his helms visor and looked up at Lysa, panting from exertion.

Also turning to look up at Lysa Idolaf saw her determined expression. "Enough. Finish this, ser Vardis!"

Visibly groaning the knight lowered his visor and shifted the grip on his sword before charging in an apparent last ditch attempt to overpower his opponent.

As Vardis started his charge, so did Idolaf, moving low and pushing his shield up to catch the knight as he impacted with the Nord. The sound of steel against steel told Idolaf that Vardis's sword had connected with his shield and acting quickly he pushed up with all his strength, lifting the knight partially over him and sending Vardis rolling towards the opened moon door.

Unable to stop himself Vardis dropped his sword and grabbed desperately for the stone railing that surrounded the opening. The whole room hung its breath as the armoured knight held on for dear life and let out a cry of pain.

Dropping his sword and his shield Idolaf ran over and grabbed hold of the knight's arm and began dragging him up, who groaned in pain as the Nord yanked on his arms. "Do you yield?" He questioned as soon as Vardis's head came was above the opening. Throughout the room various lords and ladies of the Vale were calling for Idolaf to pull him up.

"Stop ser Vardis!" Lysa cried out. "Do not yield to the Imp's lackey!"

Vardis looked down at the sheer drop to the bottom of the valley the Eyrie inhabited before looking back up at Idolaf with a desperate and pained expression. After a few silent moments he slowly nodded. "Yes! I yield!" Cracking a half smile Idolaf pulled him up with substantial effort.

When the knight was back on solid ground Idolaf looked around, the rest of the occupants of the room were all silent. Tyrion was grinning madly and holding up his chained hands with Njorn a few metres behind him, also grinning. Nodding slightly to Julius who quickly rushed forward to see if either of them needed help. Up on the throne Lysa and Catelyn were looking on with astonished faces while Robin curiously looked over the prone forms of Idolaf and Vardis. "Is it over?" he asked his mother, who still looked onward.

"You..." She stared at Idolaf. "You... fight like one of the hill tribe savages."

Pushing himself up Idolaf glanced down at the now quietly suffering knight. "No." He spoke as he looked up at Lysa. "I fight like a Nord." With a last smirk at Lysa he turned to face Julius.

"His arm's dislocated."Julius muttered as he looked over the suffering knight of the Vale. Quickly taking out his knife the Imperial cut away the plate armour on Vardis's shoulder. "This may hurt, five, four." He never got to three and instead pushed the knight's arm back into place. To his credit, Vardis didn't let out so much as a grunt.

Idolaf held out his right hand for the knight, who looked at it warily for a moment before grabbing it and pulling himself up. "You..." He sighed heavily from exertion. "Fought well, very well, champion."

"Aye, ya did good Idolaf." Njorn chuckled as he clapped a hand over Idolaf's shoulder.

"Can I make the little man fly now?" Robin was heard asking his mother, causing all four men to look up at him.

"Not this little man." Tyrion said proudly as he walked across the throne room, his chains removed. "This little man is going home." He came to a stop as he looked at the old Stark bannerman who had been with Catelyn Stark. "I believe you have something of mine." He said with a smirk as he held out his hand. The bannerman looked down at Tyrion for a moment before looking at Catelyn, who after a few seconds nodded. Frowning slightly the man took a coin purse from his belt and tossed itdown to Tyrion.

Turning and giving a mock bow to Lysa, Tyrion walked over to Idolaf. "I don't think the Lord Robin will like you staying any longer, and I doubt Lady Stark will make for a good travelling companion now. Come with me, my father will see you rewarded and ensure you have ships."

Looking up at the fuming Lysa Idolaf thought it over for a few moments. "Hmm." He looked down again at Tyrion. "Promise me we will actually get up there and we'll go with you."

Smirking, Tyrion bowed his head. "You have a Lannister's promise."

"Very well then, give us time to prepare and we'll meet you outside the gates." Idolaf nodded to the dwarf.

Tyrion again smiled and turned to leave, tossing the coin purse to the jailor. "A Lannister always pays his debts." He remarked before leaving the hall.

"Well..." Vardis began, he was clutching his recently set arm and was clearly in some pain but would ultimately recover, every warrior there knew it. "Good luck on your travels, perhaps we'll meet again someday." He gave a nod before he himself walked off, probably to find one of the healers of his own kind.

"Right, let's go." Idoaf nodded to Njorn and Julius before bending down and picking up his sword and shield. "Got ourselves a new travelling companion... again." He muttered as he walked out, followed by Julius and a chuckling Njorn.

"And where d'you think you're all goin'?" Bronn half asked, half laughed.

"You know where." Idolaf replied, eyeing the sellsword.

Bronn shrugged. "Oh aye, I know that. I meant where d'you lot think you're going without me?" He grinned. "Going to make more off that little dwarf than I ever will off that old cow in there." He gestured to Catelyn. "Especially after you just did that."

Idolaf sighed. "So you're coming as well?"

Bronn nodded with a smirk. "Of fucking course."

Eadric Haraldsson - Hircine
Skjor - Hircine
Mystery person - Try guessing
Delvin Mallory - Nocturnal

So there's my longest chapter to date.
And I'm sorry for stealing the spotlight from Bronn in this instance, but, well, I wanted Vardis surviving.
As always feel free to leave a review.