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Benjen Stark III

Castle Black, Wall, Year 284 AC

Benjen woke up somewhere...he did not remember what happened nor where he was supposed to be, everything was still hazy in his head. He looked at himself and saw that he was wearing the black clothes of the Night's Watch but in his head was bandaged and then everything returned to him...Finn of fucking Mudgrave had given him a beating after Benjen defeated him fair and square. What a bloody coward!

"You have awoken." Benjen immediately turned to an old man, bald and wrinkled, small of stature but with a pleasant smile on his face that was seated by a dark wooden desk. On his nearly fleshless neck, there was a Maester's chain with plenty of links: gold, silver, iron, lead, tin, and many others, probably even more than Maester Walys and that was saying a lot. Well...not really, the only Maester Benjen was Walys. Benjen still wondered what in Seven Hells happened to the man...did he really die? "I'm glad."

"Am I in the Maester's quarters?" Benjen inquired as he looked around still confused, finding it much smaller than Winterfell's but it was to be expected.

"You are." The Maester replied. "You were brought here by Othyn and a few other lads who have been visiting you quite often. They are worried about you but I told them you were fine. It is only a bump and nothing more."

"For how long have I been here?" The young Stark asked.

"One day and a half." The Maester replied as he returned to his papers. "You should be fully healed in no time, though I will need you to come and meet me regularly to make sure your head is fine and there is no lasting damage. This sort of bump is nothing serious but can still cause some lasting damage on the head."

"Fucking Finn..." Benjen cursed as he rubbed his head and felt it sore.

"You must have met the classic bully-like recruit." The Maester said. "There is always a couple of them in every new group of recruits."

"No one knows why he is such a cunt to everyone." Benjen admitted.

"Some people are so insecure that they turn hostile. When you live as long as I, you can see it clearly."

"You believe him insecure? He is tall and bulky, good-looking too, why should he be insecure?"

"There are plenty of reasons for that but there is no point in me speculating, the best way is to analyze the recruit in question or better yet question him directly but I'm more than sure I'm right in my assessment." The Maester avowed. "What about you? I know you are a Stark of Winterfell, I have seen my fair share of your family as they usually come visit the Wall every now and then. How are you adapting?"

"I...found a few friends but because I'm good with the sword, quite a few other lads hate me." Benjen admitted grimly.

"Young lads such as yourself, especially the kind that usually ends up here do tend to be competitive and common-born folk also do not appreciate highborns because they feel they will always be a step behind them be it in quality or opportunities. It is very hard for a peasant to become a commander of one of the castles let alone of the entire Watch, for being a Stark, you are guaranteed to hold a position of importance in a couple of years."

"I want to earn what I get," Benjen assured. "What's the point of seeking honor here if everything is handed to you just because you are a Stark?"

"You think honorably, young Stark but not all think like you. A lot of highborn folks are cocky and enjoy the misery of others but they enjoy most power and here, they can get it pretty easily." The Maester explained simply. "It's not too different from the rest of the world." Then he looked at him with kind eyes. "Northerners do tend to be somewhat less cocky but that is because serving in the Watch is still appealing to them, as it is to you, but many knights from the south do not think of it the same way."

"I can't really contradict that..." The young Stark admitted as he finally took a proper glance to the Maester's eyes. They were purple, darker than Ashara's but with some whiteness in them too... "Are you from Essos?"

The Maester chuckled at his question. "I'm not, young Stark, though my ancestors were."

Then it hit him. "You are a Targaryen?" he asked surprised.

"Yes, the name is Aemon." The Maester said smiling. "Everyone knew my name a couple of decades ago but I'm glad I have been mostly forgotten."

"Why?"

"I was a pawn in the Game of Thrones when I was younger, I was a Maester but plenty of people wanted me to claim the throne after my father, King Maekar died as they did not find my brother, Aegon, or as I liked to call him, Egg, fit to rule because he was half a peasant."

"King Maekar?" King Maekar had been dead for almost a century or something of the sort! Maester Aemon was probably as old as Nan! "Gods you are pretty old then..."

"I am almost six and eighty of age." Maester Aemon confirmed. "I have indeed lived a long life. I have outlived my dear brother Aegon, his children, half of his grandchildren, and even great-grandchildren."

"You mean King Aerys and Prince Rhaegar?"

"Yes...Aerys was mad. There was always a hint of it ever since I first saw him as a child but Rhaegar...it surprises me that he turned out to be...mad too. A different sort of madness but still madness." The Maester said with a sad expression. "I must admit I enjoyed his letters and his conversations. He was a very erudite individual and very interested in prophecies and old books, the same thing as me I suppose."

"My sister told me something about those prophecies...he was convinced she had some part to play in some war to come or whatever it was," Benjen said grimly. "Then when they were both drunk he took advantage of her and claimed she would give birth to a Visenya."

"Yes...I do remember that he said he needed the three heads of the dragon once and I pointed out to a proverb of old that said that Aegon, Visenya, and Rhaenys all together made the three heads of the Targaryen sigil." Maester Aemon explained. "He also wrote to me that his wife was incapable of giving him more children and that he wanted some advice on how to proceed...I told him that it was just a common folk proverb and no legend but it seems I was too slow...you see these eyes are losing their sight with each passing month, I struggle to read and write and soon I will not be able to see."

"I'm sorry for that, Maester."

"I am too." The Maester smiled. "I'm more sorry for your sister, she must have spent quite the time...to some extent it's my fault for indulging my great-great nephew in his vices and failing to correct him..." Benjen nodded his head as he sought what words to say but there were none appropriate in his head. "Anyway, let us forget about it, for the time being, thinking of it does not help anyone. You should be able to return to your room but as I said I will like to make at least a weekly check on your condition."

"Sure no problem Maester." Benjen stood up from the bed, stretched his arms and his neck, and then turned to the Targaryen Maester. "When will I be able to take these patches?"

"In a week, I would say." The Maester assured. "But you will be able to resume your training tomorrow. Do not worry though, I'm writing a letter to Frostfinger so that you shall not fight for about a week to be properly healed."

Somewhat it made him both sad and happy that he was not fighting for a week. He had taken fancy to fighting in these past few weeks but maybe it was because it felt good beating people... "I will see you in a week then, Maester."

"Good luck with your training young Stark." The Maester wished. "We shall see each other more often than naught."

Benjen exited the Maester's quarters below the rookery and walked a few meters before he found Ethan and Owen coming in his way. "Ben!" Ethan shouted happy to see him as Owen and he climbed the stairs with haste and the Glover hugged him. "It's good to see you walking again! Are you still us though?"

"Aye." Benjen smiled. "It takes more than Finn of Mudgrave to beat me."

"That is good to know," Ethan admitted. "Man it's good to see you alive and well, we're all worried about you mate. And we worried that you would be as smart as Owen..."

"I save some food for you," Owen said completely oblivious to Ethan's words. "But I ate most of it...sorry..."

Benjen chuckled, there was something in Owen's lackwit humor that endeared them all. "Don't worry Owen, you can eat whatever remains, I'm good."

"Even tonight's food?" His lackwit friend question with hopeful eyes.

"No, that one will be eaten by me. I'm a good lad but not that good my friend." Benjen smirked as he patted his friend's back ."Plus it looks as if you are gained a bit too much weight while I was sleeping."

"I did not!"

"If you say so..." Benjen kept the smirk on his lips. "It's good to be back. Where are Alan and Ronnel? Have they been admitted in the Watch while I was away?"

"No, they are practicing their maths Othell Yarwyck."

"And you both are not?"

"Well Owen is lost cause and I have shown a decent mathematician, my friend," Ethan explained. "Ronnel sucks at counting and Alan is illiterate."

"I suppose now we all will know how many punches Finn of Mudgrave will need..."

Ethan smiled. "Aye!" Then he wrapped his left arm around Benjen's neck. "It's good to have you back Ben! All of us are in this together and we will make it to the Watch and we will give Finn a good beating if it comes to it. No man behind!"

"No man behind indeed." The young Stark agreed as they left to find their friends.

Jaime Lannister II

Red Keep, King's Landing, Crownlands, Year 284 AC

Dear Jaime,

I hope you are well and gallant as I remember you. I have been meaning to write to you for a long time but I was worried I would bore you with how dull my days are when compared to yours. I imagine staying still for hours is marvelous and entertaining.

Anyway, aunt Genna and uncle Gerion encouraged me to write you and so I finally got the courage to do so. I have been must invested in learning because I will not be a warrior like you and aunt Genna has given me plenty of extra lessons on mathematics and other subjects when the Maester is not with me. She told me I have plenty of wits and commended me for the hard work which made me very proud of myself.

This brings me to my next point, since I'm smart and cannot be a knight for obvious reasons, I decided that I will become the next High Septon. They will call me the dwarf one but at least the Crystal Crown will make me a foot bigger. What do you think? Does it sound good? Perhaps father will finally have some pride in me...at least he will stop being spurned by all those maids' fathers that refuse me. I cannot criticize him for not trying...no one wants a dwarf in their family, not even a rich one and heir to the Rock...

Speaking of father, he was pretty irritated a while back about you remaining in the Kingsguard...he wanted you out of it pretty badly and made sure our dear uncles and aunt knew of it. I hope you do enjoy being in there, brother because our uncles and aunt are suffering quite a bit from it but I'm sure you are.

I'm planning to visit you soon now that the war ended and it's safe to ride. I'm pretty excited to see our King, Aegon the Babe, he is quite the individual when at one or two of age he already has these people bowing to him. It still sounds so strange that Westeros was ravaged by war...here in the Westerlands, everyone was worried about it given what I heard from servants but luckily for them, father only joined when everything was won. You, however, I'm sure, suffered quite a bit and I would love to hear your tales of this war when we are face to face, hopefully with me less nervous...

Be happy,

Your brother Tyrion.

Jaime chuckled a lot after reading his brother's letter and one or two tears came to his eyes mainly because even if it was not his brother's intention it made him remind him about Aerys and his abuses to everyone. He was quite surprised with most of his brother's tales and his undeniable sharp wit and sense of humor and decided to write a letter of his own.

Dear Tyrion,

Why were you so nervous to write me? We are brothers are we not? I'm always happy to read a letter from you and I'm glad our dearest aunt has been so active in your life, it warms me much and I must praise your wits brother, they are as sharp as my sword and you can trust me that I always keep it sharp.

I'm not sure about you wishing to be Septon but I suppose something can be worked out for it...I must say I would love to have you here for a bit, there are a few people I would very much like to introduce you to that I'm sure you will love, perhaps even the High Septon to get you started...Also, I must assure you that the King is terrifying when he wants his food, he will roar like a dragon but a pleasant lad when he wants to play. He will like to meet you I'm sure.

I'm not very good with words but...I'm as proud of you as aunt Genna and never fear writing me brother because you are not a burden, you're my brother.

I shall wait for our meeting,

Jaime

While the letter ended up much smaller than what Jaime hoped, courtesy of his lack of writing skills, it had everything he wanted to say and that was what mattered. He picked an envelope and placed the parchment inside and then decided to go give it to Pycelle to be sent.

Today was his free day so he was going to enjoy it maybe by practicing with Stark or Ser Arthur in the yard. Or perhaps he should begin practicing for the jousts of the upcoming tourney as quite a lot of time has passed since he rode a horse and even more since he rode in combat. If he was to try to win against his sworn brothers he needed to be on peak form.

As he exited the White Sword Tower and walked a few steps, he saw a familiar face in the distance at the exit of Maegor's Holdfast, Melara Hetherspoon, Cersei's companion and friend. That is if his sister had friends in the first place...If anything, Melara would be the closest thing to a friend that Cersei Lannister had in her life. Jaime was about to ignore her as she was quite far away but then he noticed that she was walking in his direction at a quick pace which meant she wished to speak with him and so because he was determined to be a good knight and gentleman, he waited for her. "Lady Melara, it's a nice morning today, is it not?" he proclaimed once she was at a hearing distance from him.

"Good morning, Ser Jaime," she replied with a smile as she completed her walk and rested a bit, she clearly had made an effort despite him waiting for her. "I suppose it is."

"I got the notion that you wished to speak with me..." he confessed. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"I must first thank you for understanding my purpose...when I saw you exit the Kingsguard tower an idea to hopefully fix a problem that has been tormenting me came to my head." Melara said, avoiding his eyes for a little bit.

"If I can help, I will be at your service." he smiled a cocky smile to emphasize his point.

"It's about Cersei..." Why does it not surprise me... "She has been especially insufferable as of late, everything seems to anger her, she is constantly complaining, and when she is not complaining she looks at her window endlessly and empties one wine bottle a day that she forces me or Jeyne to fetch."

Jaime almost smirked but refrained from doing it because Melara seemed both annoyed and worried but did it not feel good to have Cersei finally experience a blunt no from her pet that no longer did her bidding? "Luckily our family has a lot of money to waste on wine and I'm sure the vine makers are happy about it too...is it from the Arbor? Father surely will appreciate improving the family's connections with House Redwyne."

Melara narrowed her eyes and Jaime cursed internally because his mouth spoke what his mind was thinking but he should not have done it especially with Melara... "You know what Septa Saranella told us all these years ago when we were twelve?" she questioned him and he was about to say that he did not even remember the woman questioned but the raven-haired woman did not give him the chance. "You can drink wine but never in high quantities because for one it's an excess and thus you will become a drunk and if it continues you will become an ugly abomination, drunk women have their breasts sagged, their faces full of pimples, their hair dry..."

"And do you believe in it?" he asked amused. "I thought of you as a...rational woman..."

"I have no reason to doubt it if men get ugly why wouldn't women do as well?" she replied with a reasoning that put him in his place. "Besides...I have no reason to not doubt that these fits of your sister may have something to do with you." This was why Jaime had feared Melara's wits for so long...she was very astute and cunning and when you want to passionately kiss your sister without being seen...well...the probability that this particular woman could find out was above average and that would have been a bloody mess. Luckily that's all past now.

"What makes you say that?" he questioned curiously.

"Every time someone spoke of Cersei or Tyrion being sad, you would immediately ask why and go see them, now you are dismissing the situation and almost making fun of it." She is cunning indeed. "Is it not odd?"

"I may have something to do with it...but what do you want me to do about it?" he asked. "You know how she is."

"I was going to ask for you to try and find out since she always liked your company..." Melara admitted. "I already know it will do no good unless you ask for forgiveness..."

"It's not going to happen Mel." Jaime quickly said. "Not when I'm the right one in the argument. Apologizing is not an option."

Melara sighed as she led her hand to her forehead. "The Seven help me...you Lannisters are so complicated because of your stupid pride...what I'm I to do with her then? Jeyne has been crying in my arms for three consecutive nights, she was always too soft to be Cersei's lady as she is clumsy and not the brightest but she has a strong will to do what is expected of her but you know your sister just as well as us..."

"Look, I'm sorry about you both especially about Jeyne but there is little I can do," Jaime explained. "If I go apologize then she will keep doing what is wrong, right? I will be doing what's wrong." That was no lie, both of them would continue to be wrong and he would be back to being Cersei's pet and that was the line he settled for himself, he was a lion and not someone's bloody pet.

"And to think I love you..." Melara murmured bitterly as she sighed absent-mindedly. Not even paying attention to what she was saying. "Sometimes you are so similar to her...twins indeed...the thing is that she is causing more and more problems and I'm unsure of what to do..."

She led her right hand to her face as she thought about something but Jaime's mind had stopped hearing after a specific expression...I love you? "What did you say?"

"That is she causing more and more problems and I do not know what to do."

"No that...before that you said that...you love me..."

He saw Melara get red as a tomato in a second's time after she finally understood what she had whispered. She looked so frightened and ashamed at him and so red that she must have caught some kind of fever... "Oh Gods...Oh Gods...I can't believe...Oh Gods...must go...fetch Cersei's wine...forget this conversation happened..." Jaime never saw a woman in a skirt ran as fast as Melara Hetherspoon that day...

I know her for years and never have I seen it...Seven Hells...this caught me off guard...I know women have a thing for me, after all, this face is precious but...Gods I have never...gave it too much thought about it...I have been so consumed by my love for Cersei that I couldn't even see her best friend...have a thing for me...

"Lannister what are you doing there standing in the middle of the field?" The rough Northern accent caught him off guard too. It was Brandon Stark. "Aren't you supposed to be off duty today?"

"I am."

"Then why are you wasting your time guarding the courtyard like a fool? And why was your sister's maid running and blushing? Did you make a bawdy comment? Lannister that's low you know?"

"No Stark, I'm not a person I know..." Jaime replied. "And I was not planning on guarding this courtyard in my free day."

"She is a runner alright..." Brandon turned around likely to try and see Melara running but she was nowhere to be found. "By the way...what is happening with your sister?" Oh for the love of the Gods...

"You have met my sister, huh?" he smiled a nervous smile. "She is pretty eye-catching..."

"I mean I was returning to my room yesterday and she was ranting at her blonde maid while that one that seems to enjoy running was trying to calm her down. The blonde one was shedding tears and was looking at the floor in shame, you know that puppy face..."

"Yes, Stark I do know...why don't you get to the point..."

"Don't worry, I'm there already." The Northerner assured. "Thing was that I was looking a bit too much at the scene and your sister began ranting me too, telling me to mind my business and stop staring at ladies and I replied that she was making her maid cry and your sister said that she would do what she felt like it and would make me cry too if I did not mind my own business...when I was about to answer her, the runner pulled her inside her room kicking and screaming and the crying one followed her too and the door was closed on me."

Well...it does seem like Melara had a reason to be worried about Cersei getting drunk because by the look of it she is getting out of hand...and if father...correction when father finds out, things are going to get nasty for her...but then again if I go see her she is going to rant me too before she accepts a parley and in this parley, it will be me being forced to apologize and that can't happen. Not after all the work I put in to get myself free from her... "I guess I will see what the matter is...apparently she has gotten...quite vivid lately..."

"Is she on...her moon blood days?" Brandon questioned. "I was told by some guys that..."

"I don't know Stark, she might be." Thank the Gods it was Stark she ranted to and not Lord Arryn or the Blackfish or worse, Lord Stannis Baratheon. The damage would be far greater. "But do not expect an apology..."

"I was not planning on receiving one from a Lannister but it will have to happen at some point, Ser Jaime," Brandon said in a serious. "I may suck at it but I'm still the Lord Paramount of the North and one of the Regents, if people find out your sister just did that to me, whatever authority I have left will be further undermined and that can't happen. So your sister will have to suck on her pride and apologize."

"Fair assessment." Brandon Stark did have a point, a very good one too but Cersei apologizing to anyone but father was...a never-before-seen moment... "I will see what I can do. Though my father will surely convince her to kneel before you and apologize if it comes to that."

"Maybe that is going too far but I appreciate it."

"Want to have a round in the yard after I send a letter to my brother?" The Lannister proposed. "I feel like I need to get some things off my head..."

"I'm not in the mood..." Stark said with a grim expression. "I was actually going to the Godswood to pray."

"Never saw you too much as a prayer type." Jaime japed. "Do you wish to talk about it?"

"We Northerners pray a lot and Northerners who have been imprisoned in the Black Cells for almost a year not to mention tortured by a mad cunt, will surely become more zealous," Stark explained. "As to if I wish to talk about it...I'm not sure..."

"It helps you know?"

"Yes but..."

"Come on, don't be shy Stark, I'm a good listener." That wasn't a lie...

Brandon looked at him grimly but then sighed. "I learned that Lord Stannis has asked for Catelyn Tully's hand."

"Did you not refute to resume the betrothal with her?" Jaime recollected from what he heard Ser Oswell speak.

"I did."

"Then what did you expect? Hoster Tully might have gone insane or whatever happened there at Riverrun but she is still a daughter and a sister to two Lords Paramount of the Riverlands, she is extra valuable on the marriage market, she is also young, comely, and until further notice fertile."

"I know all that and frankly Lord Stannis does not seem like a bad match for her considering what I know of both so I'm not sure what is wrong with me...I never loved her, I respected her and before I was arrested I did not wish to marry...so why am I like this now? I should be happy for fuck sake!" Brandon replied worriedly.

"Maybe you did have feelings for her and you just did not know it..." Jaime proposed. "We men seem to be like that a lot...oblivious to our feelings or other people's feelings."

"You might be right in that regard." Stark spared a shy smile. "Maybe I did feel something..."

"There is still time to try and convince House Tully in reigniting the marriage if you want," Jaime warned. "Now you have fearsome competition but..."

"The thing is...I don't think I will be a good husband to anyone..."

"Why?"

"I'm quick to anger, sometimes very stupid, wild and I used to be a womanizer...How could I be a good husband to someone like Catelyn? I feel guilty for what happened to my father and friends, I have nightmares where I see their deads constantly...at times I think I'm broken beyond repair...I try to look strong for everyone I care about but I just want...I don't even know..."

Jaime still remembered everything just as lively as Brandon, it had all been so nightmarish that sometimes he of course had nightmares about it too. "None of us can live in the past..."

"That is true but neither can we forget things, especially those that haunt us."

"No but you can hide them in the depts of your mind," Jaime assured. "You just need something to distract you, to clean your mind of harmful thoughts."

"And what is that? I'm all ears if it means I feel less like shit."

"You said you were a womanizer right...well...honestly this is probably a horrible idea but why don't you go to a brothel and fuck some women and see how that leaves you?"

"That is definitely a bad idea Lannister," Brandon said with a hint of a smile. "I thought your family was a bunch of smart individuals..."

"Well not all of us are blessed with the great intellect of Lord Tywin Lannister," Jaime admitted. "But I still think you need to send Catelyn Tully and those memories to the depths of your mind."

"I will admit that I do miss fucking women..." Stark admitted. "I put an end to it because I was to marry Catelyn but I admit I have a lot of lust pent up...I mean...it has been like three years since I last put my sword inside..."

"Yes, yes, Stark I can imagine what you did."

"And how this stress and..." It seemed that the Northern was actually considering it... "What about you? Have you ever fucked a woman?"

Jaime considered for a little bit what he could or should answer to that and eventually he decided on the following approach. "I have."

Brandon smirked. "And didn't you like it?"

"I did enjoy it very much," Jaime admitted. "I will never forget it."

"Was she a whore?"

Jaime did think on saying Cersei was a whore but...that was not true...for all her faults she was not a whore. "It does not matter if she was a whore or not, she was a woman and I fucked her."

"Fair enough." Stark nodded. "I just asked because you ended up in celibacy and yet you seemed to have a good fuck..."

"She broke my heart."

"Huff..." Brandon whistled. "That's rough buddy..."

"Yes..." Jaime sighed. "What do you say if we go sour all disgraceful love lives in some tavern in this shit-smelling city for the time being and then we spar in the yard? I do need to practice for the upcoming tourney."

"You want to spar drunk Lannister? Can't beat a man when he is sober so you have to get him drunk?"

"You know I like to even those odds Stark..." Brandon chuckled. "Otherwise you would be wiping the dust off the floor, my friend."

Stark laughed. "Sure...let us get drunk in some tavern, it's been a while since I took a few gallons of wine down me throat."

"I will just send this letter first," Jaime warned.

"Sure, I will fetch some of my men to join us, the lads can't handle the smell and deserve a drink too."

"So it's you who is paying then?" Jaime teased.

"I thought you Lannisters shitted gold..."

"Trust me Stark if my shit was gold this city would smell much worse." Brandon immediately began laughing loudly and Jaime followed suit.

Brandon Stark III

King's Landing, Crownlands, Year 284 AC

He and Lannister had come about an old inn on what he learned to be Eel Alley. It was quite away from watchful eyes of court and there seemed to be a few brothels around too. Honestly, he was now seriously considering relieving himself from three years of celibacy and pent-up stress on a whore's cunt but he was not fully sure about it...

They were all drunk and the day had just begun...it was a bad idea but at least he, Lannister, and his men were having fun. "You will like my brother, Stark, he is pretty similar to us, his sense of humor will amuse you."

"I'm down for it Lannister but why the fuck do ya look so bloody gloomy?" he questioned after noticing that Lannister was slightly more broody than normal.

"I'm not gloomy..."

"Yes, you are mate." Brandon insisted.

"Ok I am..." The blond fool admitted. "I don't know why I brought us here...it was here I took that woman I spoke to you about...it only..."

"You dumb Lannister," he said indignantly and with too much wine in the mix. "This was meant to warm our moods not get us more depressed!"

"I am dumb..."

Brandon because he was looser due to the alcohol decided to confess some of his insecurities to Ser Jaime Lannister. "If it serves you any better...you speaking of fucking whores made remember a woman too...her name was Eli...she was a whore at Wintertown..."

"Do you love her or something?" The golden-haired boy asked with curiosity in his tone.

"I did enjoy her company, her laughs, her pretty face, her red hair...and my big shaft inside her fat arse." Brandon admitted as he took another sip of that shitty wine remembering Eli's beautiful and shapely arse shaking when he told her too...her cunt wrapping his cock tightly...he still remembered his first time with her warmly because she was his first. "She was such a good fuck..."

"At least you had fun with her..." Lannister said. "I hope you treated her right, I'd hate to make justice upon the Lord Paramount of the North."

"She died in labor..." Brandon said grimly as it hurt talking about it especially after reliving such fond memories.

"Oh..."

"I was at Barrowton when it happened...and when I returned home...I did not visit the brothel or anything..." he led his hands to his face, feeling remorse. "She deserved better..." he made a fake smile as tears began forming in the corner of his eyes. "See Lannister this is why I can't love women..."

"It's not your fault she died, Stark," Lannister said. "You can't blame yourself for it..."

"I could have done more..." he insisted. "I don't know...I could have sent the Maester there...maybe he would have something that could treat her...or maybe I could have taken her child and raise her at Winterfell...yet I did nothing..."

"There is still time for that...how old is that child?"

"I do not know...seven years maybe? Shit, I can't remember it...I don't even know if she alive or not..."

"Send a letter to your siblings and ask them to bring Eli's child to Winterfell, that ought to make the woman smile whatever she is now. Maybe even warm your spirit..."

"That is not a bad idea, Lannister..." Brandon admitted because it was true, this way he could do something good for Eli, she deserved that at the very least. "Better than your previous idea of me washing my sours away with women's cunts."

"See? My Lannister brain still works decently." The golden boy said as he drank another full cup of Arbor Gold.

"True." Suddenly two of Brandon's men entered the inn with worried faces. These men were to protect him, about ten of Winterfell's Guards that would be lead by Ser Mark Ryswell who was by now a few miles away from the capital, they were all loyal and all of them served under his brother when the war raged on so Brandon knew he was safe with them around, not that he was weakling... "What is the matter?" he asked his men.

"Milord, we're guarding the perimeter as instructed and then we..."

"You what?" Brandon pressured his men. "Tell me what happened, Harmond!"

"Daryn was found dead, Milord." Another soldier, Osric confessed grimly.

"How?" Was all Brandon could ask because he was more than surprised by it all.

"He was gutted."

"But by whom?" Brandon asked concerned. "Did you see the guy who did it?"

"We did not see the person who did, it was near one of the tight alleyways, Robin saw a person hidden in a brown or black cloak run away after the deed but we could not catch him...we don't know these streets and we were afraid of getting lost..."

"We must inform the Gold Cloaks about this." Lannister proclaimed. "There is a killer on the loose and by Gods that cannot happen."

"Once I get my hands on this man, I will bring justice in Daryn's name!" Brandon decided angrily, this one of his men they were talking about and he swore he would protect them, that was the only thing he could do now and he was failing by the looks of it."

"The killer did leave something, Milord..." Harmond said.

"What?" Brandon asked. "Come on tell us, it might bring us to the cunt!"

"Could you follow us, Milord? It's better if we show you..."

"Of course." Brandon said as he stood up from the chair he had been seated on.

Lannister followed him. "I'm going too!"

Daryn had been a man of about Brandon's age, brown-haired and eyed with a beard. Now he was gutted on the floor of a shit-smelling city that haunted Brandon's life. His face was lifeless, his eyes with no brightness but there was a paper sheet with a weird spiral symbol made of blood in his stomach... "That's what the killer left." Osric pointed out as Brandon knelt and picked the sheet to inspect it.

"What the fuck is that symbol?" Jaime questioned.

"I don't know," Brandon confessed. "But there is no doubt that this is some sort of message but...what is its meaning and who the fuck sent it?" Brandon inquired as he eyed his men and Jaime, a worried expression in all of them.

free man writer: Thank you for the kind words, they mean a lot to me. Fortunately, I'm not that bad as some very good writers are and I have also been less consistent with my update schedule so...

Radomir's Renegades: Maybe Lynesse will be different or maybe she will not...time will tell. Edmure is the lucky man, even in the bloody show he got a pretty good ending, with the Blackfish grooming him he might be a powerful player indeed and maybe he will not fail to hit the target...

I'm back with another Chapter. This one grew larger than what I anticipated but I suppose you guys deserve it for the lack of constant updates.

First, we find out what happened with Benjen after his beating and we also Maester Aemon who is still not fully blind but going there.

Next, we have our favorite comedic duo with Jaime learning interesting stuff from the females of his life and his ruff speaking bro who is full of torments and is a mess despite showing himself as a strong individual. And finally...the mystery of this Chapter...what the heck happened to poor Daryn?

As always thank you for sparing time reading and I hope everyone has a nice day and stays safe.

P.S: I have been toying around with Art Breeder a lot, it's such a nice online program to create pictures that ended up creating a "Fancast" of sorts for my story. It's in Chapter 2 of archiveofourown as unfortunately, I don't think this site supports images that way. Currently and is by no meaning finished but I would like to have your thoughts on them, if that's your cup of tea otherwise just keep imagining the characters as you want.