NOTE:
Hello guys! I'm baaack!
God that was hard! I lost count how many times I tried to rewrite parts of this chapter! There is so many complicated scenes I wanted to do good!
I think this one is the hardest I ever wrote in this story... I hope you'll like it.
I can't thank you enough for all your comments! You are wonderful! It was so great to read your reactions and thought! I see you have high expectations for what will happen next. To Kyria, Sansa Arya... All I will say is that some of you might be disappointed with this chapter.
I have plans for those girls! Big plans! MOUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAh!
Rhm.
Sorry.
Anyway, before we go on to the main event, let me answer your wonderful reviews ^^
Shade: Thank you so much! I'm happy you liked that! Kyria's reaction to the situation will be a bit more... graphic in this chapter ^^ As for Arya... Huh. You're cute ;) I hope you'll enjoy that!
M: Thank you so much! I hope you'll enjoy this chapter too!
And now boys and girls, onto the story!
See you at the end!
Chapter 17: Consequences
Year 298 after the Conquest, Ninth Month.
Kingslanding
Arya
Arya was furious.
Why did that happen? With Cersei, Father, Kyria, Sansa! What was that?! How could they?!
They took Syrio away! They dismissed him as a mere nuisance! How could they?! What right do they have to chase away her master!? What right do they have to threaten them like that?! To Arrest her father?! How dare they accuse him to be a traitor! Her father was not a traitor! He was the most honorable man in the entire Realm! They were just nasty old men soured and rotten to their pathetic little cores who couldn't stand the idea of a man as good and perfect as her father!
And Septa! They had killed Septa Mordane! Her Septa! How could they!? Arya never really liked the new gods but she knew them! To kill one of their servants was a great fault! One of the greatest! Stupid fools! Septa didn't deserve to die! To have her head cut like a criminal! In the middle of a corridor! Fools! Coward! If she had been there…
Oh, she would have killed them! All of them with their fancy cloaks and shiny armors! She was quick and she was good! She would have taken them all!
The worst of it is that no one complained! They let a woman, a holy woman being cut like a pig in the middle of the corridor and they did nothing! Like there was nothing out of ordinary!
But there was! This was wrong! So so so much wrong!
And other people had been hurt! She knew it. Those screams… She could still hear them. So many people were screaming and no one moved or tried to do something. All foolish stupid cowards! The whole pack of them!
She couldn't believe one of those stupid knights had hit her. She tried to ignore how much it had hurt. I still did. But she won't complain. She refused to. She was Arya Stark of Winterfell. She was a Wolf of the North, with the blood of the first men in her vein. No stupid little knight would ever make her cry. Never. She swore it.
If Father knew, he would have killed this fool. Robb too. And Jon. If they knew they would have-
But Father was not there. Robb and Jon were never there to begin with but Father was locked up now. All because of those… those fuckers! Fuckers yeah! Those fuckers had locked her father up like some criminal!
They couldn't do that! They had no right to do that!
Anger was building and building inside her, with each step she took that put her further away from the Queen's room. How could they do that? Why would they do that? Those mean stupid people. All of them. She hated them. She should have killed them when she could! If Kyria hadn't held her back!
Oh if only she had Needle with her. But they took it away from her too! They took Syrio! As if they had any right on him. He was their master he was her teacher!
All those screams. Resonating in the corridors. She could still hear them. They were long gone but she could hear it... It was awful. Why would they do that?!
She remembered the Throne room. The people on the floor. Some of them she recognized. She could swear she had seen them before. With her father. She wondered. Were those the people who screamed in the corridors? Where- Where they the people who came with them from the North?
What was wrong with the people around here?!
Arya huffed angrily, looking between Sansa and Kyria's back, both in front of her. They forced her to shut up in front of the Queen. Kyria obeyed the Queen. Sansa bowed to the Queen like a slave. Why?
And that letter! How could Kyria do something like that?! Those people had locked Father up like some kind of animal, they betrayed Father, they stabbed him in the back, and Kyria still helped them! How could she do that! Betrayal ran deep in Arya's gut. She had trusted her sister to do the good thing. The right thing. She was the one who kept talking about family and responsibilities. She scolded Sansa all the time about it since they left Winterfell. How could she do something like that!?
To see Sansa crawl at the Queen's feet had not surprised her. She was disappointed of course and angry that Sansa could turn her back on their family and everything they hold dear so easily, but she was not surprised. Sansa always liked the Queen better than her or Kyria. She even trusted the Queen above Kyria!
But Kyria was supposed to know better! She said it! When Arya accepted to spy for her! She hadn't wanted to, but Kyria had said it was to protect them all. How could she betray that! Arya trusted her!
More than anything else, it was the idea of Kyria's betrayal that angered her. She couldn't understand how her big sister could be such a hypocrite! She was supposed to be better! She was Kyria! Kyria was smarter and wiser and cleverer than anyone else Arya ever met before!
Why would she be so stupid and bow to Cersei like that?! After what they just learned, what they just witnessed?!
Her thought was confusing, jumping from anger to indignation to anger again. Betrayal and confusion were gripping her gut with an ice-cold hand and she didn't know how to deal with all of this. She didn't know what to think anymore.
The little girl shacked, holding back furious tears as she followed the red cloaks that surrounded them. She looked white and sick. Two angry red patches colored her cheeks, and her burning eyes couldn't drop from her sister's backs.
She was so deep in her thought she barely noticed the door appearing in front of them.
"Get inside." ordered the soldier on their right.
Kyria shushed them inside, a cold hand on Arya's back. Biting back a snap, the little girl took a look at her sister's protest dies in her throat. She looked deathly pale, the pressure on the muscles of her jaw looked like they were close to just snap. Her eyes were huge and sharp. She looked scary. Affraid. Terrifed.
The door slammed right behind Arya, leaving her finally alone with her sisters. She was to open her mouth, to scream, rage, express all the anger that was boiling inside her. But before she could do that, she found herself stopped by Kyria's explosion.
Under her eyes, her composed, always calm big sister started to pass anxiously around the room, her hands furiously gripping her hair, her eyes huge and febrile. She was mumbling something but Arya was too far to hear it. And she didn't really want to get closer.
Kyria seemed panicked. Close to faint. Or explose in thousand little pieces.
She took a prudent step closer, not sure what she was supposed to do with her sister. But stopped. That was strange, unusual. She didn't know what to do with her own feeling and the bruning something in front of her.
Suddenly Kyria slapped her hands against the closest table, making both younger girls jump at the loud sound.
"FUCK!" she screamed furiously.
A loud bang echoed somewhere in the short corridor on their right, but Arya ignored it. She watched as Kyria slammed the table, again and again, making it tremble with the strength she put in it. With her hair disheveled around her face and her eyes huge and red, she looked mad.
"Kyria?" called Sansa slowly.
" We're fucked! We're fucking trapped in this blasted city! Oh, it's a mess. It's a mess, It's a fucking mess!" babbled Kyria, one of her hand pushing her hair back. "Gods, good gods, how are we supposed to get out of this now. How are we supposed to- Oh no, it's such a fucking, fucking mess! Fuck, fuck, FUCK!"
She couldn't say why or how, but seeing Kyria like this broke something inside Arya. Something snapped. I exploded inside her chest and she couldn't hold it back anymore. Everything she had ruminated burst out of her mouth.
"Why did you do it?!" she accused a finger pointed at her panicking sister. "Why didn't you say the Queen to fuck off!? You said we had to stick together! You said we couldn't fight each other! You liar! You lied! You betrayed Father! You're a Liar and a Coward! Both of you!" her finger moved to Sansa's astonished face. Then back to Kyria. "Why did you do that!? Family is supposed to be important! More than anything else! You said that Kyria! Why did you do that!?"
"Shut up! The Prince-"
"I don't care about your stupid Prince! He locked Father in a cell! I should kill him! I should kill him like the stupid pig he is!"
"Shut up Arya!" snapped Kyria, her eyes suddenly alert and burning a hole right through Arya's little body.
Arya gasped in the middle of her rambling.
"You shut your mouth! Both of you!" she ordered a finger right under their noses. "Do you have any idea of the mess we are in? Do you!?"
Arya blinked, astonished by the anger in her sister's voice. Kyria was never angry. Or so rarely. But never like that.
"I- we-" started Sansa.
"No you don't!" cut Kyria throwing her arms as if she wanted to throw them at the wall.
Somehow, Ayra wouldn't be surprised if she did. Anger was bumping out of her like waves of heat. Burning and threatening.
"Father got himself locked up in a cell. We are officially hostages. All three of us! One wrong move, one wrong word and we're dead! Or worse!"
"But- I- I am betrothed to the King, surely he wouldn't-" tried again Sansa.
" Arya is the sister of the King's betrothed and she had been slapped like a nuisance! Why would you be so different?! You're nothing! None of you are worth a blink for them don't you get that?!" raged Kyria. "We should have left when we had the chance. All of us. Or better, we should never have left Winterfell."
"But Kyria, I'm about to be Queen! No one would attack the Queen family!"
"They put Father in a cell! He's your family too isn't he?!"
Sansa blushed, then paled.
"He's yours too! You betrayed him!"
"I didn't!" protested Kyria immediately.
"You did! I heard you! I saw you write this letter to Robb!"
Kyria opened her mouth, then sighed pitching her nose between her fingers. Her back was round, as one of an old person. She looked older.
"What you saw was me trying to protect you two." she groaned finally. "I was playing the game."
"What game?!"
"Their game!"
She pointed her finger to the wall. In the general direction of the room, they just left.
"Their games of politics and intrigues and everything else!"
"Why?!"
"Because it's the only way to survive here! What do you think they will do to us if we protest a bit much? They won't just slap you next time Arya!"
"We are high born daughters of a-"
"Our family name means nothing here Sansa! This is not the North! Do you know how the other Kingdoms see a northern man?"
"I-"
"Like a Wildling, only on the other side of the Wall," she said harshly. "We are savages who mean nothing to those pompous politicians and nobles people. We are little girls thrown in the middle of a giant snake pit. And no one will protect us. No one! Not like Father would!"
She sighed, defeated and sat in the closest chair. She dropped her head in her hands, hiding her face from the world. Arya watched her, lost between anger and confusion. Part of her wanted to snap again at Kyria, for what she did back with the Queen and those men, for what she said. For how she behaved like she knew everything.
But what she was saying. It resonated in Arya's brain. Touching something here, that she tried very hard to ignore.
"Alright, Arya, you're angry with me," she said and Arya couldn't not roll her eyes at that because really? You think? "Because you think I betrayed our family."
"You did! You said it, I heard you! And then you wrote this letter!"
"Did I?"
"We both saw you Kyria," said Sansa, her voice very strange and calm in all of Arya's whirling fillings. "You wrote that letter in front of everyone."
"Not the letter. Did you heard me say that I would betray our family?"
"You said Father betrayed you first!" accused Arya "You lied! Father never betrayed you!"
"He did. I trusted him to protect us all and to do the right thing when it was necessary. He didn't. He didn't do any of that, even though I warned him again and again about this place and those people and whatever it was he was searching. He didn't listen to me and now, because of it, we are stocked here!" her voice came louder and louder, ending up nearly shooting to their face. She took another deep breath as if to try to control herself or something like that. Arya wanted to roll her eyes, everything was always about control with was annoying! She wanted to shoot, to be angry, then she should do it! Arya certainly was not going to restrain herself! "He didn't listen, and he put us in danger. He betrayed the trust I had in him."
Arya blinked. It made sense. That was what was worse. It made sense. She would have preferred it wouldn't. Now she felt angry and stupid. It made her even angrier.
Who was she to scold them like that?! If she was so sure that everything would have gone wrong since the beginning, why didn't she do something?
"Then you should have said something! You did nothing!"
"I tried! It was just like I said, I tried to do something! But I can't act if no one, especially Father is listening to me!"
Kyria breathed again, her hands trembling for a minute. She breathed a long time this time, and Arya had to stop herself from punching something. Kyria's face, Sansa's, anything. Even though she wanted it.
"Now, did anyone of you heard me said I would betray my family? Those exact words." Kyria said again.
She talked slowly, word after word, and it annoyed Arya even more.
She frowned and thought about it. Really thought about it. She remembered Kyria saying Father had betrayed her. Then she wrote that letter. That stupid pompous letter. It was proof, wasn't it? She had been so sure then, so angry. But now she was confused. Why all of this? Why those words, why all of those double meanings and machinations, and plots and she couldn't even say what else. Why couldn't she just say the thing she was thinking? Kyria always told the truth! That was what annoy Septa Mord-
The little girl flinched. Septa… Septa was dead. They had seen her in the corridors. The gold cloaks killed her. Those people killed her. Why? Why?!
"You didn't," mumbled Sansa. "You didn't say it."
"I didn't." agreed Kyria. "that's what the game is. That's politics. I used truth, something I felt, something I thought, and I told it to them, without the part that matters. The part that is just as true."
"What part?" groaned Arya.
"Family."
Arya frowned. She was not making much sense to her and it pissed her off. Now was not the time to be so cryptic!
"Why would you play their game?"
"Because we're already part of it. They will keep us, they won't let us go now. Not if Robb does what I think he will do. What I asked him in this fucking letter!" groaned Kyria in an outburst she didn't seemed to control. "They will keep us as long as they can. Because we matter to the North, and Mother and Robb. We're hostages. That makes us pawn in their games. If we don't play the game, they will smash us. They'll do anything with us because we have no one to protect us from! We are at their mercy!"
Arya crossed her arms defensively in her chest. A part of her was hearing what her sister said. But what she only took form all this nonsense was that those people believed they could keep her here. Her and the wolves. Idiots. They couldn't. They won't.
"DO you understand what it means?" asked Kyria.
Sansa shacked her head before Arya could talk. Not that she wanted to. A plan was already forming in her head, slowly moving to place and, if she was lucky, something that would allow her to snuggle right under their noses.
"You must not allow them to control you completely," she said.
"But the Queen and the pr-"
"Sansa for the love of all the gods that ever existed shut up about the Queen and hear what I say!" exploded Kyria.
Arya jumped.
"They won't save you! You're not a princess of a song! You're a tool! Stop thinking you're not because they won't forget! If they can hurt you, break you into something they could use, they will! Think of Elia Martell and her children! Think of Queen Rhaella, of Maegor the cruel's wives! They may have been Targaryens, but the principle is the same!"
Sansa burst in messy sobs, shaking violently with her sorrow and Arya had to take a step back. Seeing Sansa cry like that was uncomfortable, but right now, Arya didn't want to feel bad for her. She had been the one who stayed attached to the Queen and the Prince and her idea of what they should be. It wasn't her fault if Sansa had been too stupid to understand that it was only a dream.
Kyria took Sansa into her arms. Arya frowned. She didn't look pleased that she had to comfort Sansa. The little girl snorted. She would have punched her if it was her. And the girl would have deserved it. She was stupid.
"I can't clean all of your messes Sansa. You have to learn to shut your mouth and use your brain. You and Arya both." said Kyria. Arya frowned. She didn't mess up! Not Like Sansa!
"I don't need you to clean up for me! I can manage on my own!"
"Can you? So you wanted to get punched by the guard?" snared Kyria full of irony.
"I- It's still better than doing nothing! At least I tried to understand!"
"Understand what? That our people were slaughtered in the corridors? That we were arrested like criminals?! You could have gotten that by yourself if you had stopped fighting for a minute and kept your mouth shut!"
"Not everyone thinks they are as smart as you!"
"It has nothing to do with me!"
"Then why didn't you do something if things were so wrong?! You did nothing! You're a coward!"
Arya fled the room before the other girl could answer. She found the wolves in one small room, all three of them attached to the wall with big chains. Lady was prostrated in the far corner of the room, whining and crying like a pup. Frost and Nymeria were growling around her, passing and snapping.
Nymeria, once she saw her, tried to run to her, tail wagging on her back. The chain stopped her mid-course.
Arya made the rest of the way, a plan slowly forming on her mind.
If Kyria and Sansa wanted to play hostages, it was fine by her. She won't let herself get caught like that. She was no one's prisoner! She was Arya Stark of Winterfell. No one would never keep her prisoner, that she would swear!
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Ned
Darkness.
It was the only thing around him. Darkness. He couldn't even see his hands or his nose. He knew he was against a wall. The cold hard surface was a good give away. But other than that, he couldn't even say how big the room was. Or where was the door.
He knew where he was of course. He had read enough about this place to recognize it. The Black cells.
It was the only logical place where they could lock him up. And he knew why. They wanted to break him.
He was alone, isolated in the darkness of the place. Without any way or mean to know how much time was passing. The only thing he could do was thinking.
How things could have gone so wrong so quickly?
No. No that was not the good question. He knew, how things had gone wrong.
He only had to close his eyes to hear her again. The despair in her voice. The tears on her face.
Do you remember my nightmare?
Someone cut a head. And it rolls right to mu feet. This head, it's yourself
They are not just dreams Father!
You have to listen to me!
Father, I beg you, whatever you are doing, whatever you are searching around the Lannister's business, stop it. Stop it and bring us back home. Where we're safe.
He should have listened. His poor girl. His poor clever little girl. He should have listened to her. He could picture her, like it was yesterday, grabbing his arm in her small hands, begging him to go, to reconsider. To leave this place. He didn't listen, then he had been wounded and before he could think again, everything was over. He discovered the ugly truth about the Queen and her brother, the Crown Prince completely Lannister, and he had trusted the wrong person.
He knew it was his fault. Baelish had betrayed him, yes, and the Queen and her guard had arrested him, slaughtering his entire household while they were at it. But he started it all.
Kyria had been right. They should have stayed home. Where it was safe.
He was angry. At himself mostly. Why couldn't he listen to his own blood? Had he truly become that arrogant? That blinded by his own opinion?
Why couldn't he listen to his own children?
He had a lot of time to think about his mistakes. As he had said to the Queen, he made a lot of them during his life. Now that he had all the time in the world to think about it, maybe he could say one of them was not allowing himself time with his children. Other than Robb, who, of course as his heir had to spend a lot of time with him. But he never really thought about spending time with the rest of them.
He let Catelyn take care of their education. The girls most of all. He didn't know what to do with girls so he never really tried. He never really spend time around young girls before his daughters. Lyanna had not been the best example in femininity and at the Eyre, he had only Robert and Jon.
He just let his wife take the lead and watched from afar.
Now maybe it had been a mistake. Maybe he could have spent more time with them. Those few afternoons with Kyria Robb and Jon in the Godswood couldn't count. As much as he had tried to teach them some things it was so small compared to fifteen years of neglect.
Maybe that was why. He hadn't spent enough time with them. He hadn't seen them grow up. He didn't think his little girl could have been wiser than him. He didn't even need to close his eyes to see his girl as she had been. Young, small and happy. His sweet little girl. His first girl.
Fool. He was a bloody fool, nothing else. Maybe she was still young, but his girl certainly had a good head on her shoulders. She hadn't been a child for a long time now. He couldn't even say when it had changed. He didn't know.
Fool.
He should have listened to her.
He had time to think in his dark cells. He thought of his mistakes. Should he have kept his mouth shut when he learned the truth? No. It had been the right thing to do. Giving the Queen a chance to save her children.
Ned frowned.
She did… somehow. Just not the way he thought she would. He thought she was going to run away. He underestimated her thirst for power. He truly was a fool. Why would she had run? When she could betray him?
The worst was that he didn't even think about it. The possibility of betrayal. It was not right to put the boy on the throne. He had no right on it. But why would she bother with rights? A woman who had slept with her brother. More than once obviously.
He had thought he was doing the right thing. He had thought he was… honorable.
A fool.
Ned couldn't say how long he stayed here. It was dark and lonely.
Until the door opened again. The light blinded him for a long moment. He hid his face in his arms, hissing in pain.
Someone moved a torch in front of his face, and Ned hissed again.
"My poor Lord Stark..."
He knew this voice. Of course.
Varys. Why was he there? What else could he want? After everything.
"What do you want Lord Varys?" raped Ned, his throat hurting with lack of use.
"Oh do not trouble yourself with me, my Lord. I am but a poor spider. A messenger for someone else."
"What are you talking about?" grunted Ned.
Something moved behind the cloaked figure of the Master of Whispers. Ned blinked and met two familiar blue eyes.
"I told you so." trembled the voice.
"Kyria..."
He made a move to stand up, take her in his arms, anything, but the sharp pain in his leg stopped him. She made a strangled noise and went through the few inches that separated them. She threw her arms around his neck, and Ned had to bite back a wince. Sitting here with his wounded leg in such a place is a very bad idea indeed. But then again, did it matter? He wouldn't last long there anyway...
He started to understand how Cersei might think.
"What are you doing here girl? You shouldn't have come..." he rumbled softly.
He couldn't say he was truly angry with her though. She was there. His clever girl. She was there and he couldn't have been happier to see a friendly face in the hell that was his life.
"Lord Varys offered to help me," she said softly.
He took his time looking at her. She looked like her mother. People were always saying how much Sansa looked like his Cat. And she did, of course, remarkably. But she had something more. Something he knew was coming from his side of the family. Something he was sure would make her one of the most beautiful women in all the Seven Kingdoms. But Kyria… she looked like Cat now. Like she was right now with her little nose and large eyes. It was hard to see it, generally, people tended to compare her to her brother rather than her mother. But now that he had only her to look at, he saw it.
Those eyes, full of sorrow and contained anger were his Cat's eyes.
"Father..." she said hollowly. "Why did you do that?"
He sighed.
"I- it was the right thing to-"
"No, it was not. It was stupid and irresponsible. Lord Varys told me of what you did. All of it."
Cold fear gripped Ned's throat. He turned his burning gaze on the little man.
"You-"
"I'm afraid your daughter can be very persuasive my Lord. She would have understood on her own anyway."
Ned had to take a couple of deep breaths, only to stop his rising panic. Part of him was rebelling at the mere idea of his girl in danger because of this. He knew he sent to Stannis this letter. Soon the entire kingdom would know about the Queen's little secrets. Including his own family. But Kyria… she could be killed for that.
"What- What has he told you exactly?" he managed finally.
"Everything. What you did, what you tried to do, what you discovered." she paused, her eyes searching something on his face. "So that was it… The thing that was so important you put your entire family in danger..."
"Kyria-"
"Don't even try to deny it Father!" she snapped, her entire demeanor changing completely. "You are locked in a cell by a power-hungry bastard King who you just challenged! Our entire household had been slaughtered, practically right in front of us! I had to write a letter to Robb telling him to come here to pledge his sword to Joffrey! And don't be a fool if he comes here alone he'll never go back home! All of this for what? So you can know why your precious Jon Arryn died?! So that you could go to the Queen and throw your brand new knowledge right on her face?! So you could do the right thing?! Well, guess what?! The right thing could very well kill us all!"
"My lady lower your voice!" warned Varys behind them.
His head was out of the cell, looking in the corridors, searching for spies or people susceptible to hear them.
Kyria took a deep breath, her eyes tightly closed.
"Kyria, it was the right thing to do."
"You're a fool Father." she groaned. "A fool who just started a war." she accused, the calmness of her voice cutting deeper than the screams earlier.
The guilt that had been floating at the edge of his brain explode inside him. She looked defeated. Tired. Almost old, with this light suddenly extinct in her eyes.
"Kyria, I'm sorry for not listening to you," he said finally, his throat tight. "You were right my girl and I am very proud of the smart, wise woman you are becoming." he paused.
"But?" she cut in.
He smiled. His smart girl.
"But I don't want you to come back here."
"Father-"
"You are right. I am a fool. I should have go when you told me to instead of following Baelish." his teeth greeted at the mere mention of that slimy traitor. "But those are my mistakes. I can't train you and your sisters in this mess."
"You don't get it, do you?" she said hollowly.
"My Lord," interrupter Varys, kneeling in front of Ned with a skin in his hand. "I'm afraid your daughters are now a ward of the crown. And they will stay that way until your release, or your son's arrival to the capital."
"Neither can happen without blood now," said Kyria. "I tried to send a message to Robb. But even if he does not get it, he's still smart enough to know he won't be able to leave peacefully if he comes here alone. He'll fight to free us..." she rubbed her face. "and you threatened Joffrey and Cersei, both of them. None will let you leave this place."
"Kyria,"
"No. I warned you, Father. I tried again and again, but you couldn't listen. How could I know, after all, I'm just a stupid girl am I?"
"Kyria-"
"If I see your head leave your shoulders Father, I will never forgive you." she threatened, her voice full of restrained tears.
Ned hushed her, pulling her face close to his shoulder, in an attempt to stop the waterfall he felt close to coming. She trembled a little, for a short time. His shoulder wet with her tears, but too soon, she had to pull back.
"We have to go now my Lord," said Varys, offering him the skin.
Ned drank it. The man had brought him his daughter, he could be trusted not to poison him. Not that it mattered much in the end.
"Lord Varys..." he said offering back the skin. "I know I can't ask you anything. But take care of them please."
"I am no knights my Lord." answered the man.
They left at that. His brave girl looked at him one last time, her slim silhouette lightened by the fire behind her. He tried to stick to this vision, feeling it like the last time he could look at those sad eyes. One way or another, he couldn't possibly leave this place in one piece.
As the door locked behind her in a loud sound, leaving him again in the dark, Ned prayed his gods. He prayed his mistakes hadn't doomed his family. He prayed them to protect his girls, his sons, Cat. Jon. He prayed for all of this to end well.
He even dared to pray for his head. The idea of his children witnessing his beheading scarier than anything else suddenly.
Please hear me out… He prayed.
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Sansa
Everything was confusing. She was tired, sad, scared, confused and so many other things she couldn't even name.
She didn't understand what was happening around her. The fight between Kyria and Arya still fresh in her mind. The words there, the expression on their faces. The sound of the door slamming in the corridor. She hadn't understood. Why all of this was happening? Why?
She felt even more confused when out of nowhere, Kyria disappeared too, following a small girl in one of the rooms. Sansa felt tempted to follow her. But the outburst she witnessed earlier stopped her. She didn't want to suffer another lecture from Kyria. Not after what just happened.
Too much happened really. Too much too soon. So she found the last door, opposite to the others, and locked herself in.
She cried again then, letting go of all the things she couldn't deal with in loud embarrassing sobs. She stayed like this for a long time, wishing above all else that Lady was there with her. She had no idea where her dear companion was, but somehow she knew she was not around. A part of her knew the Queen wouldn't allow them to keep their friends so close.
The idea made her cry harder. Everything had gone so wrong so fast! How could things have turned this way?
Now she was treated like a criminal, even though she was the new King's betrothed! She was alone and sad and no one was helping her!
She could have spent the rest of her days crying, but too soon, noises in the parlor caught her attention.
Unable to resist her growing curiosity, Sansa wiped her face and slowly made her way to the door, her entire attention on the voices behind it.
Soon, she recognized her sister's. She was talking to a man. The voice seemed equally familiar to the girl.
"...don't know if I'll ever be able to repay you, my Lord."
"You live a troubled day my dear lady Kyria." answered the voice. " You are braver than most, doing what you do."
"Can you send it soon? I need them to arrive before the letter the Queen made me write to Robb."
Letter? What was that about? Kyria had more letters? Why not give them to the Great Maester?
"The three letters will leave tonight my lady, do not fret."
"How can I not? Father won't stay long in those cells, we both know it."
"Your Father in this cell is the best guarantee the King can have of the North good behavior."
Kyria didn't answer, but a sigh was heard after a moment.
"Yet, you are right. If the great Lion was there, Lord Eddard could still be saved. But the Queen is passionate in her anger."
"And her son is a spoiled little shit, we both know it Lord Varys."
Lord Varys? Kyria was talking with Lord Varys? But- Why?
"Be careful with your words my lady. Walls have ears around here."
"Even if I didn't talk like that, you'd be naive to think I will last long in this city."
The man didn't answer. Sansa's heart climbed its way to her throat. What did she mean by that? Was Kyria planning her escape? How? Why? Would she leave them here? Sansa and Arya and the wolves? Father?
It didn't make any sense. None of it!
"Don't worry about your correspondence, my dear. I will send it. My little bird flies high and far from this place."
"I wish I didn't have to ask this to you, my lord."
"This is no trouble."
"As for my part..."
"Don't worry. I will receive my payment in due time, I trust your word on it."
"You have it. Thank you, my lord."
Sansa heard something moving in the other room. Lord Varys probably. Then nothing. A long, uncomfortable silence fell on the entire place. Then something moved again. Sansa stayed at the door, too scared and confused to even move away. Something was pushing her in this position, forcing her to listen to everything happening on the other side.
She waited, for something. Anything really. A clue, to understand what was happening around here. In her sister's mind. But nothing came.
After an agonizing minute, Sansa dared take the last step to the door and slowly grabbed the handle.
That's when she heard it. It was small and barely noticeable, but still, she heard it. Sansa opened the door.
She found Kyria collapsed in an armchair, her face in her hands, shaking with silent sobs. From time to time, small sniffs escaped her. Sansa took another step. Kyria...
The door busted open.
"Get in there girl!"
"LET GO OF ME!"
Sansa gasped a cry at the imposing silhouette of the Hound dragging Arya inside the parlor with one of his giant paw crushing her tiny arm. The girl was fighting him with everything she had, her face and clothing all dirty and ripped in some places. One of her eyes seemed to slowly change its color to a worrying blue.
"Arya!" called Sansa alarmed.
"What is happening? Where does she come from?!" pressed Kyria, her face marbled with tears.
"The little bitch tried to escape with your pets."
"She what?!"
"Caught her close to the old dragon skulls with the beasts."
"Where are they?"
The hound grunted, half throwing Arya to Kyria's feet. Sansa grabbed the girl closer with shaking hands, while Kyria was pinning the monstrous man with all the strength of her gaze. The man snorted, unphased.
"Where are the wolves?!" she demanded again.
"Locked them in a cell. The Queen won't have it otherwise." snorted the man, his lips curled on his teeth like a dog.
Kyria waved on her feet.
"You will stay in this room. The first who goes out will be killed," he ordered again, an armored finger pointing the floor.
Sansa jumped again when he slammed the door close. Arya slapped Sansa's hands from around her and ran to the door.
"Arya!"
"NO! Come back you bastard! Give them back! Give them back!" screamed the girl in a fit Sansa hadn't seen in a long time.
"Arya!"
"He took them! This fucker took them! GIVE THEM BACK!" she kept on.
"ARYA THAT'S ENOUGH!" boomed Kyria.
Sansa whined again.
"No!" said Arya. "I want them back! They will- They-"
"You shut that mouth, you come right here and you listen to me!" growled their sister.
Sansa thought she had seen her angry before. But never like that. She looked mad. Like something had snapped inside. Sansa took a step back. She had never been like that before.
"Why should I listen to you!?" said back, Arya.
"Because if you keep going they will storm right back in this room and beat the shit out of you until you shut your mouth, you stupid girl!"
Arya's jaw cracked with it slapping shut.
"Don't you get it? We are nothing! The first occasion they have they will hurt us! Not just you, me Sansa, the wolves! Father! All of us! We are at their mercy."
"I am not! No one tells me what to do! I am Arya Stark of Win-"
"You are dead if you keep going you little fool!" cut Kyria.
"Kyria-" tried Sansa.
She wasn't even sure what she wanted to say. But the words died in her throat anyway, as her sister fall right back in her chair, trembling from head to toes. Her breath was quick and harsh. It took Sansa a moment to notice that it was wrong.
"Kyria?"
She didn't answer, her breath hard and even faster. Sansa confusingly looked at Arya, but the girl seemed determinate to look everywhere but to her sisters.
It took Kyria a long moment to catch back her breath. Sansa awkwardly stood close to her door, not knowing what to do with herself, or anything else. Her sister looked bad, distressed. She was pale and then red, and pale again. Her eyes were glassy and distressed. Sansa didn't know what to do. She would have liked to go comfort her sister, if not for the anger she still saw burning through her. She didn't want to be submitted to another of Kyria's reproachful lectures. She had had enough for one day.
"Arya..." finally said the oldest girl. Sansa held back a wince. She sounded so tired. Why would she sound like that? She wasn't supposed to sound like that.
"Arya," she said again, "how did you intend to escape?"
That was a good question. Sansa looked back, suddenly very eager to hear this peculiar conversation. A deep part inside her winced at the meaning behind her little sister's actions. She had wanted to escape. She was close to escaping. With the wolves. Without them. Sansa and Kyria. She wanted to go alone. To-
"You were leaving without us," said Sansa, something broke in her voice.
She wanted to abandon them. Why?
Arya flushed.
"Like either of you would have followed me!"
Kyria's eye twitched strangely. Sansa blinked. What?
"And why wouldn't we?"
"You were all eating in the Queen's hand like a freaking lapdog! You and Sansa!"
"Do-" she stopped herself, with a humph, and took a deep breath. Sansa's eyes stopped at the vein on her neck. It was pulsing strangely fast.
"Do you even listen when I talk?" she said finally.
It didn't take more for Arya.
"Shut up! You betrayed Father! You obey the Queen! At least I tried to do something! You just- You stay there like a stupid princess and wait for others to do the job for you! I won't! I wanted to escape and go to Robb so he could-"
"What?" growled Kyria. "So you a little girl all on her own would have somehow fled the city with three full-grown and very recognizable Direwolves and would have made all the road to the North on your own?! Without weapon or food or anything that could give you the tiniest chance of success? And you truly thought it was a good plan?!"
"I almost did it! I would have found the secret passages under the keep and-"
"AND YOU WOULD HAVE BEEN KILLED, YOU, STUPID CHILD!"
Kyria didn't wait for them to react to her last outburst. She stood, looking defeated and still incredibly furious. Sansa was still wondering how she could even manage such an expression when she talked one last time.
"Whatever. I'm tired of talking to the wind with the two of you. Get yourself killed for all I care."
And she left.
After that, Sansa stayed in the room. She couldn't say for how long. Her mind tried to grip something. Anything to make her understand what happened. All of it. All of this awful day. But nothing came.
She blinked slowly, listening to the sound of her breath, of Arya's on the other side of the room. Her eyes stayed on the floor for a long time. She sat at some point.
The silence around them was loud. Agonizing. Lonely. She desperately wanted the door to open. To Septa Mordane's kind face, or Jory's smile, or Father's tall silhouette. Anyone. Anything, that could prove that everything was just a nightmare.
But no one came.
The night fell and no one came. Only silence.
She looked at Arya then. Her little sister. She didn't look angry anymore. She was looking at the window, her little face twisted into something sad and stubborn and painful to watch. She thought about earlier. Arya's anger. Kyria's anger. Everything.
"You wanted to abandon us," she said, her voice strange in her ears.
Arya blinked a couple of times.
"What?"
"You took the wolves, our wolves and you tried to leave us behind," she said again.
She couldn't say where she wanted to go with this. If she wanted to be angry too, or sad, or disappointed. She couldn't say which one was the right one. A mix of all of them maybe.
But she needed to voice it.
"You wouldn't have wanted to leave your beloved Prince anyway." snorted Arya, and there was something here, in the line of her brow, the expression of her face, that Sansa had almost forgotten.
Something she had thought belonged to their past quarrels. Apparently, it was not the case…
"It doesn't matter. You wanted to leave us behind," she said again. Something inside her didn't want to let go of this point.
"I would have come back! I wanted to get help!"
"Would you have? It could have been your great adventure. You could have lived like you always wanted to live." she said. Something clicked in her mind. Because this, right now, this was important. She needed to say that.
"You say that Kyria had betrayed Father, but you would have betrayed us to live your adventure." she accused softly.
She wasn't even angry. She couldn't be. Too much happened today. But, as she stood and found the door of the room she had chosen for herself, she felt like something had broke in this room. Between her and Arya, or Kyria and Arya, or the three of them. Whatever. But she could almost hear it. The high pitched sound of something breaking on the floor. Leaving pieces all around for them to clean and pull back again.
She was not sure she wanted to.
Whatever. She was tired.
OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo-GOT-oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO
They kept them locked in these apartments for three days. They would bring them food three times a day, always with one of the blond handmaidens that the Queen had assigned them to the first time they came into the Tower of the Hand. Sansa had been happy to see Jenny at first. But the girl hadn't talked to her. She had smile strangely and had looked at her like she never even talked to her before. When Sansa had tried to talk, Sara, Kyria's old handmaiden had said they had been forbidden to talk to the traitor's daughters.
There had been giggles in the corridor after they left.
Sansa had cried.
It was so unfair!
Arya had learned the hard way that they couldn't leave. She tried to sneak by the windows, but they had them high enough in the towers for it to be a very dangerous idea even for the adventurous little girl. She had tried to sneak by the main door while the guard was not looking. It didn't work either. The hound grabs her again, and threw her right back in Sansa's arms, fuming and kicking like an angry kitten. Sansa hadn't even dared say anything. The man scared her too much.
They couldn't leave. And Sansa didn't know what to do now.
She thought of going to Kyria, but Kyria started to scare her too. She hadn't talked much since the first time they locked them in these apartments. She sat in the far corner of the parlor, close to the window, and she watched outside. For a better part of the day.
She had nightmares too. Again. Sansa could hear her screaming in the night. It was frightening. She would have wanted to go to her, to ask for advices, reassurance, anything. But the look in her eyes dissuaded her. She looked empty. Sad, closed up. Like she gave up.
On the morning of the third day, Sansa woke up with a new determination. Sadness and confusion had been pushed away in her mind. Far enough so she could finally act and express the only emotion she had to keep to herself since the beginning of all this.
Kyria often said that they should never start a conversation when they were angry. But right now anger was the last thing Sansa could use. The only thing she had powerful enough to erase her fears. For a time at least.
With a strong set on her jaw, Sansa crossed the distance between her and Kyria, who kept sulking on a corner.
She sat firmly in front of her, her hands displayed on her pretty blue dress.
"So. What do we do now?" she asked firmly.
Kyria blinked.
"What do you mean?" she asked slowly.
"What are we supposed to do now? With Father, our situation, everything!"
Kyria snorted.
"And why should we do anything? We are screwed, Sansa. Whatever game I tried to play with those people, I lost. What else do you want to do?"
Sansa rolled her eyes. Good gods…
"Not everything is about you Kyria," she said a bit exasperated.
When has she started to talk like that? How could Sansa miss something like that? It was the very same thing she was trying to chase away from her thought. With less success than what she hoped to be frank.
Kyria frowned.
"It's not about me. It's about all of us," she said back.
"If it's not about you why do you make it about you?" groaned Sansa. "We are all in the same mess. We can't even go out of this place. And instead of thinking of a way to solve this mess, you stay there all day sulking in a corner like the entire world just dropped on your shoulders."
"What would you want me to do Sansa?" sighed the girl. "You said it yourself, we are stuck in there, for the gods know how long. What do you want me to do?"
"I want you to help me find a way to solve this mess!" pleaded Sansa. "There must be something we could do! For Father at least if not for us! One of the guards said he had been thrown in the black cells Kyria. The black cells!"
"I know." she sighed.
"There must be something we can do!"
Kyria rubbed her neck, her eyes in one of the seat next to Sansa. She looked at her then, blue meeting blue.
Sansa flushed when her sister kept looking at her face. She seemed pensive.
"What?" she groaned, uneasy.
"Nothing… you- What would you want to do?"
Sansa bite her lip, absentmindedly playing with her necklace.
"I thought I could try- I mean I- I'm still the King's betrothed. And he- He said I would be his lady, now and forever."
Kyria's face didn't move, but something shifted in her eyes.
"You want to try to plead for Father in front of our new King."
Sansa nodded.
"I know-" she started before Kyria could talk again. "I know what you think of him. But I thought- I wouldn't hurt to try, at least?"
Kyria closed her eyes.
"We don't have much more to lose at trying it's true."
"Do you agree?" pressed Sansa. "you would let me do it?"
"I can't let you do anything Sansa." smiled Kyria. "It's your decisions. If you think this is a good idea, then you have to try."
Sansa smiled brightly.
"Thank you Kyria."
She stood up before her sister could answer, hope blooming in her chest. Maybe things could turn in their advantage after all!
Two days later, the Queen finally allowed them to go out of their room. They still couldn't see the wolves and were escorted everywhere by half a dozen guards intimidating and desperately quiet, but they could go out.
Sansa was the one who explained her idea to Arya. The little girl was not pleased with it, but she seemed to have cooled up since their fall out on the first day. She was oddly silent.
The three of them arrived in the Throne room, as a united front. For the day, they had to be irreproachable. So Sansa had spent a thoughtful evening sewing their dresses especially for the occasion. Kyria wore a pastel blue Southern dress, similar to how Sansa made hers, without the large corset-like bodice she had taken a likeness to, or even her white shirt with long sleeves. This dress was attached to one side and embroidered with blue flowers, darker than the main fabric of the dress.
Arya's dress was more simple, Sansa was not foolish enough to waste embroider on her little sister. She knew the girl hated it. Still, she made the effort of sewing a small direwolf on her right shoulder, discreet enough so she wouldn't complain. The dress was southern too, in a light grey, for their house. She found this particular shade had the magical power of making her look more innocent.
As for Sansa herself, she put out her latest dress, a pale pink that made her look like a doll. She had sewed a pretty little dragonfly on one shoulder, with little flowers cascading on her arms and back.
They looked as perfect as they could be in their situation.
The sight of the poor man singing by the throne feet made Sansa want to run back at their room. For the first time since she met him, she felt scared of Joffrey. The way he happily asked for the man which appendices were more important to him made her skin crawl. It was awful. How could someone enjoy something like that?!
But then, Joffrey had asked if anyone else had something to say to him, and Sansa had known it was her moment.
She took a deep breath and painted her more innocent expression on her face. The word pronounced the day of Father's arrest was still fresh in her mind. Children were innocent of their Father's sins. She had to stay innocent. As much as she could.
She bowed and kneel in front of the throne, and put on her best show. Joffrey's gaze was heavy on her. It made her shiver. It had nothing to compare with the shiver this face used to conjure in her. She refused to be scared of her future husband, but she couldn't say she was at ease in front of him. Not after the sight of Ser Ilyn pulling out the man's tongue in front of an entire crowd of people, who didn't even try to help.
"Your words touched me, my lady," he said finally, and Sansa could have sobbed. "But you are not the only child of the traitor Lord Stark present here." he kept on, speaking louder. "What are your sisters thought on the matter? Lady Kyria! Mother told me a very interesting tale about you recently."
Sansa's heart squeezed in her chest. She didn't dare look back, but she heard the movements of the guards and Kyria's skirt softly brushing the floor. Then, in a display of blue, her big sister kneeled next to Sansa, her head low. Her braid brushing Sansa's shoulder as it fell with her sister's head.
"I share my sister's feeling regarding my Father your grace."
"Do you? You said he betrayed you."
"He did your grace. He didby not taking us into consideration when he tried to do what he did." Kyria answered. "It does not make him less our Father, however. And while we agree he deserves punishment for his foolishness, none of us want to see him dead."
It was impressive, how many words could flow out of Kyria's mouth while she wasn't saying much at all. No more than what Sansa herself said a minute before.
Joffrey smiled.
"Very well then. I can swear to you my ladies, that your Traitorous Father will receive the mercy he deserves for his crimes against me."Sansa smiled, relieved. "IF he bows in front of me and confesses his crimes in front of the Seven and the Kingdom."
Sansa's heart beat hard in her chest.
"He will your grace!" she nodded.
He had too!
She stood up, hands shaking with emotion, and followed Kyria, as the oldest girl slowly walked back out of the room. They joined Arya, who didn't stay too far from them. She looked even smaller surrounded by guards. She looked closed up like she did every time Sansa was looking at her since Father's arrest.
She waited for them to be back in their room before voicing her opinion.
"Why did you even made me wear this stuff? I stayed on the back!" she complained once the door closed.
"King Joffrey could have called you too, Arya! We needed to have every chance on our side if we wanted to succeed."
"Did we?"
Sansa blinked.
"What do you mean Kyria?"
Kyria hummed between her teeth, her face morphed in a worried expression.
"I wonder… Did we truly succeed?"
"Of course, you heard him! King Joffrey swore he would do everything in his power to release Father!"
"That's not what he said!" protested Arya.
Sansa was about to roll her eyes, semantics didn't matter after all, but Kyria's frown stopped her.
"I'm not sure if we truly succeed Sansa."
"What? Why?"
"He said Father would receive the mercy he deserves."
"Yes, I know!"
"But what mercy does he deserve?" asked Kyria, to no one in particular.
Sansa blinked. She hadn't thought about it, but it was true that the King had not been precise.
No, surely he would be merciful like she knew he could. He has to be.
It couldn't be otherwise. They had played their last card, Sansa knew that. There wasn't much they could do now. All that was left to do was wait.
Wait and hope.
TBC.
...Have we lost anyone? No sudden murder tendencies? Sure?
So! Arya, Arya, Arya... You were all cute thinking I would let her go that easily! Besides, I'm not sure if that was very clear, but even if she'd had escaped, she would have been on her own. And by that I mean without Yoren and Gendry and everyone! Because I'm a bitch and I messed up the timeline so the guy would be there earlier (read, during the tourney)and consequently, leave earlier too!
So she couldn't have hid with them.
Sorry if it wasn't clear.
As for the wolves, some of you might wonder why Cersei had not killed them yet. Well I still have plan for them! Let's say that Cersei is a sadistic bitch and she would rather use them to hurt the girls rather than just kill them in a dark corner.
Anyway, what do you think of all that? Share your opinion my little friends! Don't be shy!
Again thank you all for liking what I do and following my work, I appreciate it very much! I hope to see you soon!
Bubyyye!
