A/N - I'm so sorry. I uploaded this chapter and then never posted it. Good news is the next chapter is coming soon...
Chapter 16
"Everything all right, your Grace? If you don't mind me saying; you look grimmer than usual"
Bran turned to Ser Davos; observing the man he had named hand of the King. A good, kind man and loyal to a fault - the onion Knight was a great help and very capable. Bran would have asked him to join his council in another capacity if he'd stuck with his first choice of hand. The castle was stirring to life in the morning sun and Bran had requested Ser Davos to meet with him in his chambers as soon as possible. While Kings Landing was just waking up, Bran had been awake for hours; seeing both too much and not enough.
"I fear I made a mistake, Ser Davos" said Bran, tone emotionless as he gestured to the chair opposite his wheelchair "and my brother is paying the price"
"Jon's in trouble?" said Davos, a note of panic in his voice.
Bran smiled sadly at his concern "No, I mean my new brother"
"Tyrion?"
"When Sansa asked me for his life I agreed to her request because there was a chance"
"A chance for what?"
"Many things" said Bran, eyes turning distant
Ser Davos shifted uncomfortably, as he was prone to do when the answers were vague "Is there no longer a chance for these many things?"
"Do you think Tyrion is a good man?"
Ser Davos sighed at his lack of an answer "I think he's a complicated man, but I rather liked him. He tried to do the right thing"
"Even though he killed your son?"
"It was war" said Davos, sorrow filling his eyes "Stannis would have killed his family if he hadn't beaten us. I wanted to hold it against him, but I couldn't. I'm in his position now as Hand and if we were attacked I'd probably do the same thing and another man would lose a son"
Bran laced his fingers in front of him, staring at the onion Knight "After my fall, Tyrion came to Winterfell with a saddle design that would let me ride again"
"Good of him - knowing Lannister's aren't well liked in the North"
"I'm the three-eyed raven now; I know and see many things. Things about my family, things about strangers, even things about you" said Bran watching the older man flinch "It's a strange kind of power - to look at someone and see their whole life even clearer than they do"
"Not sure I'd like that power"
"The three-eyed raven neither likes nor dislikes it" said Bran, straightening in his wheelchair "Yet, I'm still Bran Stark; and he remembers his excitement at Tyrion's gift. It gave him hope when he had given up"
"Has something happened in the North?"
Bran smiled; Davos was getting better at following his often wandering thoughts. As his hand it was a main requirement of the job.
"Many things have happened in the North, but it's my brother that concerns me. He's in great pain and there is nothing the three-eyed raven can do to help him. I asked Sansa to look after him and she hasn't. When I was going to name him hand, I visited his past to be certain of my choice - and I saw so much suffering. He may have made bad decisions but Tyrion is a good man; he doesn't deserve what's happening to him now"
"Can we help him? You know Podrick will be upset when he finds out"
Bran's thoughts turned to his sworn shield. He'd turned down Podrick's request to join the Kingsguard telling him it wasn't time. Instead he'd asked the young man to serve as his sworn shield and knighted him. He wasn't sure why he'd refused Pod's request, but there was a vague sense allowing him to join the Kingsguard was wrong.
Bran's face turned downwards "I fear there is nothing we can do now, and I cannot intervene. Ser Davos, I trust you will see to my duties today"
"Of course, your Grace"
"Good. I may not be able to help Tyrion, but Bran Stark wishes to be with him all the same"
Ser Davos left the chambers as Bran's eyes turned white, his mind already flying through a thousand different eyes before settling into the familiar comfort of a raven. He flew through the Wolfswood, reaching a farmhouse buried in its maze of trees. Landing on a post the raven peered into the stables. It was empty save for a stall at the far end where Tyrion Lannister was slumped on the straw covered floor. A collar was fastened around his neck connecting him to the wall behind him, while his hands were chained and stretched in front of him, tethering him to the floor with no room to move from the awkward position.
The raven settled on to the post observing his brother.
Family, duty, honour.
It was midday when a rider bearing the sigil of house Cerwyn found Arya. All morning they'd expanded the search, with both Lord Cerwyn and Lady Tallhart sending out their own guards to assist them.
"Lady Arya, you should come at once" called the man, pulling his horse up beside her and Lyle. He was older than most of the other guards, with short brown hair that was starting to turn grey.
"Have you found Tyrion?" she asked, posture stiffening
"No m'lady" said the guard, lowering his gaze "but we have found something you should see"
Arya needed no more prompting and spurred her horse onwards, Lyle at her side. They followed the man until they came across an upturned cart, its owner struggling in the grip of two guards. Dismounting her horse, Arya approached the group studying the man they held. He was young and lanky, terrified eyes darting around the area.
"Who is this?" asked Arya, her eyes never leaving the man
"Says his name is Glenn" said the captain who led them here
Arya nodded, taking in the man's nerves "What has Glenn been doing?"
The older man shifted uneasily, before reaching for a bundle on the ground. It was wrapped in brown cloth as he passed it to Arya.
"We were checking carts in case Lord Tyrion was being hidden in one. This package was found in this man's cart..."
He trailed off as Arya unwrapped the bundle, fear clawing up her throat as she looked at what was undoubtedly Tyrion's bloodstained tunic, a piece of golden hair in the middle of the pile. Arya's hands trembled as she carefully rewrapped the bundle placing it to the side.
Needle slid easily into her hand as she strode towards the man who now trembled in the guards grip.
"Where's my brother?" she said, resting the tip of her sword at his throat
"Please...I don't know..."
"Wrong answer"
"Really, I don't know" he said, voice rising "Please…I just got told to deliver the package"
"Who gave you this package?"
"There was a man…in an inn. Paid me to take it to the Kings Road and leave it there"
Arya pushed Needle against the man's skin, grey eyes watching him like a predator with prey "Do you value your life?"
"Yes m'lady"
"I don't. I value my brother's life"
Glenn's face paled "I don't want to die"
"Then you will take me to the inn and describe the man you saw. If you've lied to me, you will die"
The man swallowed, nodding eagerly "Of course m'lady. I didn't know what was in the package, I swear"
Arya reluctantly lowered needle. Glenn appeared to be telling the truth, fortunately for him. Her eyes moved to the package and she grimaced at the thought of its contents. This was the closest thing they had to a lead; but the thought of showing Sansa made her blood run cold.
"All that blood…" muttered Lyle also eyeing the package
"He must be alive" said Arya, forcing her voice to sound certain "someone was trying to send us in the wrong direction. If he was dead they wouldn't bother"
Lyle nodded though his face betrayed his uncertainty. Arya had to believe he was alive and they would rescue him soon. When he was safe, she would kill whoever had taken him; whoever hurt him in the most gruesome way possible.
Tyrion shivered against the cold breeze, his restraints making it impossible to huddle for warmth. When the young lords had finished with him, he'd been dragged off to the stables and chained in place. The collar around his neck was unbearably tight as the chain attached to it kept his head from moving too much in any direction. His hands had been cuffed and chained to the ground in front of him, effectively holding him in place.
His position was humiliating. The lord of Winterfell – chained like a dog, wearing only his breeches with a slave collar around his neck. Though of all the indignities he'd suffered it was the mark now permanently etched on the back of his shoulder that caused him the most shame. Even hours later the brand burned as if the hot iron was still being pressed into him, pain radiating across his back and down his left arm. A permanent reminder of what he was.
Surely his father and Joffrey were laughing at him from their place in the seven hells. Cersei would no doubt be delighted at the state of him. Jamie wouldn't laugh at him though. His big brother had never mocked him; only ever laughing with him. Tyrion wished his brother was here. He didn't want to be alone.
The sound of raised voices caught his attention and Tyrion's heart sped up. He'd been left alone all morning with a guard positioned outside the stables. From his place on the ground he couldn't see much else besides trees and some sky over the wooden gate that covered his stall. He knew the guards had been out looking to recapture the slaves and he'd dreaded hearing news they'd been found.
Why wouldn't they just kill him and be done with it? Tyrion squirmed as much as he could, hoping to find a slightly more comfortable position. His mind pondered the question that had bothered him since arrival. Robin had told him plainly when Tyrion was dead he would seek to marry Sansa, though that didn't answer the question of why they'd kept him alive so long. It was as if they were waiting for something or someone. Tyrion closed his eyes and let his head drop forward. Was this justice for all the mistakes he'd made? He would die beaten and alone, shaming Sansa even in death. A lump formed in his throat at the thought of his Queen. She had trusted him when he hadn't deserved it. Certainly no-one else in the whole of Westeros would have wanted anything to do with him, and this is how he repays her kindness? Tyrion screwed his eyes shut, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall. He wouldn't bring anymore shame on the Starks. Ned or Robb Stark would have fought valiantly to their last breath, dying with honour. Yet, he was a Lannister. A lone lion surrounded by wolves - and Lannister's were not honourable, nor did they deserve an honourable death.
Sansa examined the items set before her in the great hall. She was joined by Maester Wolkan and Arya; her sister's hand continuously brushing the hilt of her sword. The Queen in the North understood her agitation all too well. What they had before them was a puzzle. Arya had returned not long after midday with a package containing the blood soaked clothes of her husband, complete with pieces of his golden hair. She'd also found the man who had apparently paid someone to drop the package on the Kings Road, and he was now secured in their dungeon awaiting their attention.
Sansa's eyes lingered on the dark tunic and cloak now covered in a deep red. Her first reaction had been that Tyrion was surely dead. Even now the thought sent waves of grief through her. Arya had been quick to dispel that idea, pointing out the blood was mostly on the outside of the clothes and the cuts in the material weren't consistent with stab or slash wounds. Truthfully, her sister's knowledge unnerved her, but she was grateful for it all the same. The left sleeve of the material was stained red both inside and out and a slash above the sea of red indicated that most likely was from an injury. Sansa's face hardened; someone had hurt Tyrion and they would pay dearly for it. Aside from that the package indicated nothing about where her husband was being held or who had him.
Then there was the letter Sansa had received earlier today.
It was Maester Wolkan who lifted it from the table, reading its contents "Lannister's not only ones who pay debts. Last lion will die and justice be done"
"It's someone with a grudge against Tyrion, obviously" said Arya, as Wolkan passed her the letter "this writing is poor – could be brigands or sellswords"
"Yet there's been no ransom demand" said Sansa "I don't understand what they want"
Arya nodded "If they just wanted Tyrion dead they could have killed him rather than kidnap him"
A shudder went down Sansa's spine at the words. The thought had occurred to her already, and left an unpleasant taste in her mouth.
"It's clear the package was merely a distraction" said Maester Wolkan "intended to send the search in a different direction"
"So, we'll expand the search in the opposite direction" said Sansa, eyes narrowing "I want the Wolfswood searched tomorrow. The Glovers haven't replied to my raven yet but I expect them to send some of their men to join the search tomorrow as well"
While Lord Cerwyn and Lady Tallhart had dispatched their guards as soon as the message was received the rest of the Northern houses would take slightly longer to receive their ravens due to their distance from Winterfell. Even so, Sansa expected them all to assist as quickly as Cley and Lady Tallhart had.
"Is there no clue who sent the letter?" asked Arya, placing it on the table
"Nothing obvious" said Maester Wolkan "though there is something rather familiar about it. I would like to study it more closely, your Grace, if you do not object?"
"By all means" said Sansa, nodding sharply to the older man "I believe it's time we visited the prisoner Arya"
It was early evening when Robin and Gawan came to him. By that point Tyrion was shivering against the cold as his head throbbed - he'd been starved all day and given nothing to drink. The cut across his arm from battling in the woods had stopped bleeding but the flesh still gaped open; it was a matter of time before infection set in.
Robin was normally quite good at hiding his displeasure, but as he leaned over the gate to Tyrion's stall his anger was plain to see.
"I need something from you" said Robin, sneering down at him
"You want my breeches too?" said Tyrion, tilting his head to one side
"Our men have been searching the Wolfswood for the slaves and found no trace of them"
"Did your men get confused? One tree looks very much like the other after all"
Robin's face curled into a snarl but Tyrion no longer cared. He was going to die here. Returning to Winterfell simply wasn't an option after what had been done to him.
Gawan was stood beside Robin, a cruel smile plastered over his face "For a small man you've caused us a rather big problem"
"I'll ask you again; where are our slaves?" said Robin
"How should I know?" said Tyrion, lifting his chained hands as much as he could "I've been sat in here"
"You're a clever man; you've hidden them somehow"
"I'm not that clever" said Tyrion, bitterness colouring his tone. If he was as smart as people thought none of this would have happened in the first place.
"You have a choice lord of Winterfell. You can tell me now what directions you gave them and where they're hiding – or I'll let Gawan take the answers from you. I had planned on keeping you in one piece for your execution" said Robin, shrugging "but I don't care much either way"
A shudder of fear went through Tyrion as he looked at Gawan's happy face. They hadn't found the girls which presumably meant his plan had worked. After discovering roughly where they were in the Wolfswood, Tyrion had recalled the old maps and lost routes he'd studied in the library. He remembered the conversation he'd had with Arya about a hidden path near Winterfell that ran towards Bear Island; though that night seemed a lifetime ago. The women were in no state to outrun their pursuers but if they'd found the path and it was useable there was a chance they could make it to Winterfell without being caught. Tyrion had killed the men who'd seen which direction the girls went in; the only other person who knew was himself.
"I am the lord of Winterfell" said Tyrion, gazing at his captors "and they are slaves no longer"
Robin's mouth fell into a tight line and he nodded sharply to Gawan, who entered the stall setting down a variety of tools beside him. The boy sat cross legged beside him, a cheerful smile on his face, before shoving Tyrion to one side and prodding the brand he'd made, sending shudders of pain through him at the touch.
"Looks good imp. No doubt who owns you now" he said, leaning closer to him "I hope you don't break too quickly – I'm hoping to enjoy this"
Tyrion fought to control his breathing as Gawan readied himself for whatever he was planning to do. He may have failed as Sansa's husband and the lord of Winterfell, but he wouldn't humiliate her any further. No matter what he wouldn't tell them where the girls had gone.
Arya appraised the man hanging in chains before her. He was big and brutish with a mess of dark hair and a scruffy beard. They'd found him not far from the inn where he'd given the package to Glenn. Apparently after fulfilling his duty he'd engaged in several rounds of heavy drinking, thus proving to Arya he wasn't the brains behind Tyrion's kidnapping. Anyone with a shred of sense would have left immediately. As it happened the Winterfell guards had easily apprehended the drunken man after Glenn had confirmed it was him. Arya had attempted to question him at the time but he was nearly unintelligible from drink – they'd been forced to wait several hours for him to sober enough to interrogate, leaving him in the Winterfell dungeons. His hands were chained and drawn above his head forcing him to stand up straight. Even so he leered at Sansa in a way that made Arya's hand tighten around her sword's hilt.
"Who are you?" asked Sansa, voice cold and calm as she stared at the man
"Name's Reg" he said, grinning at her
"I'm not sure why you look so happy" said Sansa, eyes narrowing "you're accused in the disappearance of my husband; Lord Tyrion Lannister"
"Guilty"
Arya's brow furrowed. Why did he seem so pleased about all this?
"What exactly are you confessing to?" asked Sansa, voice rising
"Me and my buddy Duke took the little bastard"
"Where is he?" said Sansa
"I aint telling you that"
"Yet you'll confess to his kidnapping"
The man leaned forward face turning dark "Your husband's a butcher, you know? He killed Duke and three more of my friends. He's getting what he deserves and it's still not enough"
"Your friend is dead?" said Sansa arching an eyebrow "Good. One less for me to kill when I find my husband"
"Duke was like a brother to me" said Reg, mouth curling into a scowl
Arya withdrew needle then, pointing it at the larger man "Then you'll understand. Tyrion is my brother. What do you think I'm going to do to you?"
Reg barked out a short laugh, cruel eyes watching them "The imp's as good as dead. Do your worst girl"
"That package was going to the Kings Road. Do you know what was in it?" asked Sansa
"Aye, of course I do. I held the little bastard down while they tore the clothes off him"
Arya saw Sansa flinch at the man's words, but her sister recovered quickly "I doubt your masters will be pleased you failed to follow orders. Surely getting so drunk you couldn't run and hide wasn't part of the plan?"
"I was drinking to honour Duke" said Reg, glowering at them "Besides your imp's got the same masters now – they've made sure he knows his place"
"Explain" said Sansa, her tone was clipped and deadly, but the man's face split into a smile.
"When you get his corpse, I want you to know I held him down while they did it. If I close my eyes I can still feel the little monster squirming in my grip. He struggled and struggled but I held him nice and tight, he soon stopped fighting when it was over. Pathet-"
Reg's words gave way to a cry of pain as needle sliced him across the face, drawing a deep line down his left eye.
"My eye!" he cried as blood streamed down his face "I can't see"
"Now that eye's permanently closed" said Arya, twisting the blade in her hands
The glee on his face as he recounted whatever torture they'd inflicted on Tyrion had been too much to listen to. Glancing at Sansa, Arya noted her sister's face had paled considerably at his words; though she retained her dignified posture. It was clear Reg wasn't particularly bright; all they really needed from him was a location.
"I'll ask again" said Sansa, voice trembling slightly "Where is Tyrion?"
"You won't save him!" said Reg, shaking his head as blood poured down his face "Not after what he did. Reckon the young lord's carving him up right now"
"We're done here" said Sansa, voice turning icy "He's all yours Arya"
The Queen in the North turned on her heel, striding from the dungeons even as Reg continued to shout after her; his voice echoing off the walls.
"I hope they send your dwarf back piece by piece!"
Arya strode towards the man, placing the tip of needle under his chin.
"Enough. The only words I want from you are a location" she said, grey eyes studying the man before her "It's been a while since I've poked a hole in someone, and you've made me rather angry. It's unwise to provoke a wolf"
"Think you scare me, girl?"
Reg's words were brave, but they were just words. The man was glancing around the area, breath coming in ragged bursts.
"I know I scare you" said Arya, lowering needle to the man's waist and slowly pushing it forwards.
"Aww, poor little lion - looks like you broke your paw"
'You broke it' thought Tyrion, screwing his eyes shut as the cruel boy prodded his left arm.
Robin had left Gawan to his work after watching the young lord break two of the fingers on his left hand. No doubt it was revenge for the two fingers of Gawan's that Arya had impaled with a fork. From there the boy had unchained his left arm and pinned it beneath him, where he had then produced a hammer and taken great pleasure in seeing what he could break. Tyrion had struggled at first but his restraints made it near impossible and he'd been forced to accept he was at Gawan's mercy; not that he had any.
"So, are you going to tell me where those girls went?" said Gawan, maintaining his grip on his injured limb. Tyrion was in no doubt several bones in his hand were either cracked or broken; the appendage throbbed angrily and he dared not consider trying to free it from Gawan's grasp.
"No, I won't tell you" said Tyrion, turning to look the boy in the eyes "Your father is a decent enough man; he would be ashamed to see what you really are"
At his words Gawan's face turned pouty "All he wants is me to rule Deepwood Motte after him. Do you know how boring it is to rule? It's a lifetime of meetings, duty and pretending to care"
"I'm sure serving Robin and torturing me is much more enjoyable"
"I don't serve Robin - we're a team, imp. He can handle all the boring politics and I get to do what I enjoy"
Tyrion grimaced at his words. Gawan had put his hammer down on the straw covered floor and now lifted Tyrion's left arm up, the bones in his hand grinding painfully at the movement. He clamped his mouth shut; he would not scream no matter what. His right hand was still chained in front of him and the collar around his neck gave him no hope of moving away from the mad boy's torture.
"I like breaking things" said Gawan, crushing Tyrion's broken hand in his grip as he started to twist the limb "I prefer cutting things really, but we can't have you dying until your executioner arrives. Sure you don't want to tell me?"
He turned away from Gawan as his left wrist was twisted, tendrils of pain lancing up his arm as his hand was compressed and the wrist reached its maximum point.
"Come on Lannister; I want to hear you roar!" laughed Gawan, as he twisted the limb until a snap sounded in the stables. Black spots danced in his vision as his eyes slid shut and then open again. Agony enveloped his arm, reaching up to his shoulder and joining with the ever present ache of the brand on his back.
Rough hands grasped his face, twisting it to look into the amused eyes of Gawan.
"Aren't you a good little lord - trying to be as stoic and silent as the Starks. It won't work. You're not a Northerner, and you're not a wolf. You're a lonely little lion far from home. No-one in Westeros wanted you and no-one in the North wants you"
Tyrion's heart hammered against his chest at Gawan's words - they were far too accurate.
The heir to Deepwood Motte merely grinned at the pain spread over Tyrion's face "Hit a nerve did I? Tell me where the girls are and I'll leave you alone to face your past. I believe he intends a quick death, but it's hard to tell"
"Who?" said Tyrion through gritted teeth
"I'll tell you - if you tell me want I want to know"
Tyrion closed his mouth, glaring at the boy. He would find out sooner or later anyway, there was no way he would give them what they wanted.
"Suit yourself" said Gawan, reaching for the empty handcuff "I'll leave you to consider your options for a while. I've worked up quite the appetite from all this excitement"
His tormentor grasped his broken wrist with a squeeze, securing the heavy metal around it once more. Tyrion's body shook at the pain that exploded at the movement. The chains lay heavily against the broken bones and Tyrion's breathing grew ragged as Gawan patted him on the back - deliberately on the branded area.
Gawan went to the end of the stall, before turning back to Tyrion and sweeping his arms forward as he inclined his head "It's been a pleasure, my lord"
Sansa's hands shook as she took up her needlework project. Having finished stitching a lion on to Tyrion's tunic, she'd turned her attention to making him a blanket. She knew Tyrion didn't like the cold, and his kidnappers had taken his heavy clothes from him. When he returned Sansa would make sure he was warm and comfortable.
'If you find him'
The hour was growing late, but she couldn't bring herself to sleep - not after the interrogation of Reg. The man clearly knew where Tyrion was but wouldn't tell them; giving her only enough information to haunt her dreams. If Reg was to be believed, they had enacted some kind of punishment on Tyrion though he'd refused to tell them what. Sansa shook her head, forcing the vile thoughts away. The idea of anyone hurting her kind, gentle husband caused her stomach to churn.
'This is your fault' taunted a voice 'You took him from his home. Look how you treated him…'
Guilt swelled within Sansa as tears pricked at the corner of her eyes. She never wanted Tyrion to get hurt…she just wanted him to be with her. She loved Tyrion; everything she'd done had been to keep him close - to bind him to her forever.
'You've betrayed him more than anyone else has'
Sansa's hand brushed over the dark woollen material in her hands, eyes lingering on the golden lion she'd started. This would be her third night without him. For the past two days, she'd sought something of Tyrion to bring her some comfort, and a taste of reality had slapped her in the face. There was nothing of him in Winterfell; nothing to show a lion was lord of the castle. Sansa bit her lip recalling her time as Cersei's hostage in Kings Landing. After her father's death the Queen had gone through her room and had everything with a direwolf sigil removed and destroyed. All her gowns in Stark colours were taken and replaced with Lannister colours.
There had been no trace of Sansa Stark left when the Queen and Joffrey had finished with her. She'd been dressed up and paraded around like a shameful prize – the traitor's daughter. Until she'd married Tyrion in Kings Landing; her new husband had gifted her a lion necklace similar to Cersei's soon after the wedding. The sight of it had turned her stomach, until Tyrion had grinned up at her turning it over to show a direwolf engraved on the back.
"Never forget who you are" he'd told her, bright green eyes sparkling with warmth
She'd lost the necklace at some point after leaving Kings Landing; but Tyrion's kindness had stayed with her. Now shame swept through her. Had she truly been so cold to her husband - stripping away all that made him Tyrion and treating him as his sister had once treated her?
A knock on the door pulled Sansa from her despair, however briefly the respite was.
"Sansa it's me"
"Come in"
She placed her needlework to one side as her sister entered the room, dropping into the chair opposite her without enthusiasm.
"Well?" asked Sansa
Arya shook her head "I'm sorry, he wouldn't give a location"
"It's okay" sighed Sansa, eyes downcast "you did your best"
"We'll search the Wolfswood in the morning" said Arya "Cley's men's will stay near the Kingsroad and Lady Tallhart's men will join us in the Wolfswood"
Sansa nodded, twisting her hands in her lap.
"How are you coping Sansa?" asked Arya leaning towards her "We won't give up, I promise"
Sansa drew her mouth into a hard line, locking eyes with her sister "I'll be fine when Tyrion is back where he belongs"
Silence fell between them as the hearth crackled warmly. Sansa needed to stay strong, crumbling wasn't an option right now – but she couldn't help but wonder if Tyrion was warm at the moment. Was he scared? Had they actually hurt him? Sansa refused to believe it - who would dare to harm the Queen's husband?
"Did you notice Reg said 'the young lord' when he was talking about who had Tyrion?" mused Arya, drawing Sansa from her thoughts
"I did" said Sansa, mouth turning downwards into a frown "It could refer to anyone though"
"It could, but it could also mean he's being held in a keep somewhere if a lord has taken him"
"What lord would do such a thing? They would bring destruction on their house if it were true"
"Nothing about this makes sense" said Arya, slumping into the chair.
"It doesn't" agreed Sansa "The letter and the package both seem separate from each other – as if they were different plans by different people"
"Two lot's of people need to die then"
Sansa allowed a small smile at her sister's words. Whoever was responsible would die and if anyone had dared to hurt Tyrion they would suffer horribly for it.
'Hold on, Tyrion. We're going to find you'
