Casterly Rock -Kevan
When he returned to the Rock at the head of a party of fifty knights and twenty-five men of arms, they swirled around him, baring the crimson red of House Lannister. It was lifeless. Even in the heat of the day, the Rock held a sense of dread. Servants hustled with sunken eyes and quick steps. It afflicted everyone, from the knights of his brothers household to the lowest pauper. Tywin was displeased, and no one wished to be at the receiving end of a Lion's claws.
Tywin had summoned him back from the Golden Tooth with a single word by raven. Return Kevan obeyed. His brother was the elder and his liege. Duty demanded he serve him in all matters. Whatever it was, it had been something terrible.
The slights from the Reynes came to his mind or the insults of the Mad King. A similar feeling had descended upon the Rock. Both now resided dead and forgotten, living with the maggots in the dirt. Who had pulled the Lion's tail? Kevan wondered. It was not anyone in the Westerlands. Not even the greatest fool of a bannerman would dare, even in the safety of his mind, to insult his brother. Even outside of the Westerlands, a simple playing of the Reynes of Castamere earned compliance.
Servants ushered Kevan into his brother's solar. His brother was sitting nose deep in parchment. Tywin didn't even look up as he uttered. "Sit."
He obeyed and observed. No visible signs of exhaustion on his face or annoyance. Simply calculating green eyes that had brought House Lannister from the cusp of ruin. Eventually, Tywin finished his foe and looked up. "Here Kevan read this." Tywin extended the parchment to him, which he grasped and read. Each word filled him with a sense of war. The words carried a sense of mockery and embarrassment, neither things Tywin would ever forget, nor forgive.
"A new heir to the Iron Throne? Your other grandson disinherited. A new court being formed filled with the Vale, Riverlands and the North. Poor tidings." Kevan said. "What do your sources say? Is this some plot of Lord Arryn and Lord Stark?"
Tywin chuckled. "I thought the same, but they all say that Prince Joffrey marred Princess Myrcella and nearly slew his own brother. My legacy nearly destroyed in one petulant act of a spoiled boy." His brother shook his head with a cold grimace. "Madness and stupidity. The boy is no grandson of mine. I care not for his faith. If my son was not with them, I would let him starve in the squalor he earned."
Kevan nodded. Kinslaying is a terrible thing such a prince could never be king.
"But it's my daughter that is the biggest disappointment. I've told her to send me my grandson Prince Tommen to be fostered here at the Rock.
"Tyri-"
Tywins eyes blazed with fire. "I have need of an heir, but she wouldn't be parted from the boy and now he shall be raised in the foolish honor and chivalry of the Vale. Our future king a falcon instead of a lion or mayhaps a trout pretending to be a falcon."
"If she couldn't stop the fostering, she should have sent a Lannister cousin with him. Impress the need of him to be around family." Kevan admitted.
Tywin gave a single nod. "My thoughts exactly and the madness does not stop." What more could have transpired? Kevan was in disbelief by the change of fortunes already and there was more?
"Read the words of my granddaughter."
Dearest Grandfather, I intervene only out of a sense of duty as a princess of the Iron Throne, and duty to my brother Crown Prince Tommen. Still, I beg your pardon for interfering out of my place. I fear I have little choice. Mother refuses to give up Joffreys claim to the Iron Throne. She plots to see him renamed. I fear such would be disastrous for our family should this come to pass. A mothers madness has befallen her. Joffrey, despite the love I bare him cannot be king after the Trident. My words hold little weight with her, but I know you to be wise and dedicated to our future. If any man in the Seven Kingdoms may help us prevent such a disaster, it would be yourself. I pray you find my words truthful and honest, but if any doubt remains merely ask her yourself and I'm confident you'll see the truth in her eyes. Even here in the capital, everyone knows you cannot successfully lie to Lord Tywin Lannister. I've written this letter despite the risks to myself should mother discover my treachery, but I remain dutiful to my family and will bear such uncertainty with grace.
Sincerely Princess Myrcella of the House of Baratheon.
Kevan coughed. "The folly. Just pure folly." He said when he was finished. How could Tywins daughter be that incompetent? It was a jape of the gods. She was trying to return Prince Joffrey to the line of succession. The plot was laughable. Slandered and disgraced Prince Joffrey, whom men would mock underneath their cups. His jaw shattered by the kings anger groveling before the court like some pathetic cat. It was not the interest of House Lannister to seat him on the Iron Throne. What was she thinking? The madness of a mother it seemed. Though he found it curious that Princess Myrcella was the one to bring word to Tywin.
"At least she has some wits about her." Tywin said with almost a hint of a smile. "She knows I'm the only one who can bring her to heel and we shall or more accurately, you will bring my daughter to cease this folly."
"And how will I do that? She is a Queen and I'm not you. She'll ignore me." Kevan reminded. His niece was a proud woman and would not listen to reason, nor counsel save from her own fathers lips.
Tywin nodded. "Indeed. Inform her of the unpredictability of sell swords. The ones that guard the spawn she calls a son. That should do the trick, I think. She'll understand the meaning. The love she bares it will allow us to tame her."
Kevan understood the threat well, and Cersei would as well. Tywin is only as harsh as he needs to be. He gave a nod of agreement. "And my other orders." He knew Tywin would have other tasks that needed to be accomplished.
"Secure the interests of House Lannister in the capital by whatever means necessary. Our position in court has fallen because of the inability of my daughter to make the king forget a woman whom has been dead for a decade and a half." He scoffed. "My daughter should have made friends and rehabilitated the image of House Lannister and she has failed. Only the conciliatory nature of Jon Arryn has permitted us this position we enjoy. Now, the daggers will be out to finish us. Tyrells, Starks, Arryns, Tullys. They circle around us like vultures, as if we were little more than a dying carcass. Keep my daughter as queen Kevan and maintain Lannister influence in court as long as we hold the queenship Crown Prince Tommens position is secured. Make Stark an ally if you can. Despite being an honorable fool, his daughter shall be queen and it does us well to keep him close."
Only one question remained to him. "Why am I going and not yourself?"
"Subtle preparations must be made if things go awry. Plans I must oversee from here."
War. Kevan thought.
He thought of his children and his wife. Sweet, dutiful Dorna and the children she had born to him. Lancel was in the capital. It had been two years since he had seen him. Martyn and Willem, two sweet lads and his beloved daughter Janei, were with his wife. Dread filled him at the thought of war. His children had grown up in a long summer without conflict or strife. Peace that Tywin provided the Seven Kingdoms.
Tywin has never lost a war. He won't lose this one. And Kevan would do his duty and left with a bow.
Riverun-Lysa
Liquid as sweet as honey was shoved down her throat. She fought. She clawed like a beast at the maester and his servants as they pried open her throat. The blood she drew when she bit the maesters stubby finger was sweeter. Pain and darkness overwhelmed her, and she slept peacefully. Sleep. Liquid. Cries. Blood. Every day blurred together since Jons son ripped her away from her little boy Sweetrobin, sending him to that wretched Lord Royce.
He has his fathers dark eyes and should have been born first. Lysa lamented.
,In brief moments where she dreamed she could taste his sweet lips against her. "Lysa," He would say with love. "My sweet Lysa, please hold on a little longer. I shall rescue you." And her Petyr was always so clever and brilliant. He would make everything right. He would see Jasper thrown through the moondoor and would reunite Sweetrobin with them both. Then she would marry him and they would sire more Sweetrobins safe in the Eyrie. It would be the perfect ending and her Petyr would see it come to fruition.
Days became weeks and weeks months as her hope faded. More sweet liquid. More sleep. Cries and screams wore her down. She had lost weight. Her eyes sunken into pits of despair. She realized they had forgotten her in this tower. Why would her love abandon her? It shouldn't have taken this long to rescue her from her old decrypt father and foppish brother. Why was it taking this long? Lysa kicked the bucket of waste, seething and weeping. Cat, you whore, you stole him, didn't you? Lysa knew this had to be true. She received everything before her. Everyones praise from visiting lords and ladies. Father's love and admiration.
"My pretty Cat." He would say. "How beautiful you look."
Never her, despite how she outshined her. My hair was brighter and shined as brilliant as the stars. Cat was stupid and couldn't even see the love Petyr bore her, and she abused him, always stringing him along like some puppy. But for the first time, she won something over Cat and made him hers. When he took her maidenhead, it was the sweetest thing. Only for the son she carried in her womb to be murdered by father. I didn't know it was moontea. Father lied to me.
Now Cat had stolen his attention again. Tears overwhelmed her as footsteps entered and the mess was cleaned up. More sweet honey and peaceful sleeping in soft blankets of silk. She dreamed of what her boy would have looked like. He would be older than Jon's son. He would have been tall and slender with beautiful Tully eyes. But she birthed the Arryn. The boy robbed her beautiful son of the life he should have lived, and she had never forgiven him for it. If only I drowned him. But Jon Arryn would have had her killed for it. She pretended he wasn't his son. But whenever she looked at the falcon's nose, she saw him for what he was.
Jon Arryn's son, not my own. A mistake that should never have been made.
When she placed the poison in her husband's wine, she had been happy watching his last pathetic gasps and the life leaving his frail body. My happy ending was just around the corner. When she arrived in the Eyrie, she would tell Jon's son about Lannister treachery and, like dear Cat, would demand justice and call for war against House Lannister. The boy would march off to war where he would die and her Sweetrobin would become the true Lord of the Eyrie. It was a perfect plan, but then he ruined it by sending him to Lord Royce. The look in his eyes was as cold and calculating as father has ever been. Sweetrobin would never survive without me and I won't share him with anyone!
Bitterness overwhelmed her. Forgotten and betrayed by her lover, her only son taken away from her. I have to make them hurt and feel my pain, but I can't do that like this.
"Mi lady," a soft voice said, undoing the curtains. The sun peered through. "You must eat." Several servants behind her along with two men of arms.
For the first time, she nodded and smiled. "Yes, I suppose it is. Whatever have you brought?" She smiled.
"Porridge milady if it pleases you."
"Thank you." Lysa demurred.
Lysa smiled. "I think I can eat for myself this day."
They shifted uneasily before nodding and granted her a spoon. For several days, she played the part of a sweet, submissive girl. They slowly restored freedoms to her. The honeyed medicine that made her sleep stopped. They permitted her walks under supervision. Eventually, her brother Edmure visited her, still sporting a missing chunk of his nose where she bit it clean off. These visits brought her news of the outside world. Cats husband, Lord Stark, had been named Hand of the King. Jasper was now betrothed with the Lannister queen's daughter. Petyr remained Master of Coin and had done nothing to bestir himself. He loves Cat now. Not me.
"You look better, Lysa." Edmure's voice interrupted her musings. He sported a weak smile, like the fool he was.
"Thanks to being around family." She said, without the venom and hatred in her heart. "I'm terribly sorry about your nose, brother. Do you think father will come soon?"
Edmure laughed. "Worry not. I've told everyone it was a training accident with a mace." His face became serious. "You wounded him sister trying to attack him at dinner and the letter from your son speaks of terrible madness. It'll take him time to come around. He has a right to be weary, but have patience. He'll see your progress as I do."
If only I could have plunged that steak knife into the murderers heart. Lysa thought. She imagined bathing in his blood and it was a sweet dream.
"I understand Edmure. I was in a poor place when I arrived. Do you think I could write to Cat? I long to tell her sisterly things."
Edmure raised a thin reddish brow. "Father doesn't want you sending letters Lysa."
"Please Edmure. I long to talk with my sister. Cat would understand my plight well."
Her brother held firm for a moment before weakening. "Just Cat?" He asked a little above a whisper.
Lysa nodded.
Edmure rose from his seat with a broad grin. "Well, I'm all, but acting Lord of Riverrun, I suppose I can allow it. Family Duty Honor. I would be a poor brother to refuse you."
She hugged the dumb fool, allowing him to think she cared for him. I care only to see my Sweetrobin again and to see Cats love for Petyr die a painful death.
Does he not fear a woman's scorn? And her scorn was going to be something fierce.
That night she wrote the letter and upon the morning sent it by raven to Winterfell, smiling at the pain it would cause.
Highgarden – Olenna
"You're an oaf."
"Mother!" Her son Mace bemoaned, his fat cheeks reddening. "I will not be spoken too like this! It's a good plan, very sound in design. Lord Renly came up with it, the brother of the king."
"Oh, if Lord Renly came up with it." Her voice dripping with mockery. "If you had the wits, the Gods gave a turnip, you'll see how stupid this plan is." Trying to set aside Queen Cersei for their precious rose would stir the wrath of the Old Lion out of his den. Even if Lord Tywin did nothing and Margaery became queen, they would still have to deal with not only Prince Tommen but also Prince Joffrey. Prince Joffrey may be disinherited, but he was not dead and could easily be a puppet of the Westerlands or anyone that wishes to topple a Tyrell babe princeling. Not to mention the prickly honor of the Starks and Arryn. They wouldn't take too kindly to such dishonor and naked ambition.
"Speak sense to your grandmother, Willas!"
All of House Tyrell lay crowded in Maces solar well furnished with silk rugs and beautiful tapestries. Trays of cakes and glasses of sweet arbor wine for all of them. Mace and his wife Alerie. All of her grandchildren, including Garlans wife Leonette Fossoway.
But it was not Willas who spoke, but her most foolish hot headed grandson. "Lord Renly has always looked out for our interests! No truer friend of House Tyrell lives anywhere!" Loras shot off with passion.
You love sick fool, Olenna thought.
Her buffoon of a son was nodding along. "That he is my boy." He crossed his arms with a look of satisfaction. "See mother, your worries are for nought. Lord Renly is a courtly man and understands these things."
"The only thing he understands is how to tell a good jape, but so does the court jester. We are hardly setting our houses future on his counsel."
Loras reddened and tensed like one of those damn rattle snakes in the garden.
"Mother!" Alerie said, abashed. "That was ill said. Lord Renly is a good man."
Before her youngest grandson could explode, Willas leaned on his cane and rose. "Peace brother."
"She-"
"Means well." Willas said calmly and everyone listened. He sighed. "It's high risk and high reward father, that has not been our traditional strategy, however this is a unique opportunity however, House Lannister has never been weaker. We have a new Hand whom has brought with him new actors to the stage." Willas stroked his chin. "Still, I think it ill advised father to pursue this action without two considerations. One we should not openly pursue to topple the queen. Instead, it must be Lord Stark that does this. A man of honor punishing her for some egregious crime. I'd imagine the queen has engaged in something ill. All we need it to uncover it and let Lord Stark do the work for us and then they'll send for our Margaery. Our hands clean by the honorable reputation of the Lord of Winterfell."
Garlan put down his goblet of wine. "And secondly brother?"
"Glad you asked Garlan how gallant of you to remind me!" He winked. "Second, less prove to be good friends of the Crown. Offer generous loans with better conditions than the Lannisters. Use Renly as our middleman to butter up King Robert. Send Margaery with father to attend the tourney and make King Roberts acquittance. Let him see our beautiful rose. Prove ourselves friends to the Iron Throne and see what it reaps us."
Olenna was pleased. At least my grandson isn't an oaf like my son.
"Ah!" Mace declared before scratching his head. "So you agree with me, son?"
"To a degree father."
"Grandmother should come with us." Margaery chimed. The beautiful rose of Highgarden, but she had a sharp mind as well. "Since you'll have to stay behind with Garlan in Highgarden Willas."
Olenna snorted. "Hours spent in a stuffy wheel house. How delightful. You'll have to be with me dear or I'd be bored to tears."
"Gladly, grandmother!" Margaery smiled.
Mace was beaming with pride as if he had just carried out the coup of the century. Garlan improved Loras mood by offering to joust with him in the morning to help him practice as she took a bit into a very sweet lemon cake and licked her fingers. At least it wouldn't be too dull. If nothing else, seeing Lord Stark and getting a measure of the other man behind the rebellion would be entertaining.
Sunspear – Doran
"Did you really think you could have fled without my knowledge?"
"No." Oberyn said. "But I wanted to test your reflexes, brother, as sharp as ever. The men whom mock you are rather stupid." He poured himself a glass of arbor wine and relaxed on a velvet couch stretched out lazily.
A small smile graced him at his younger brother's boldness. He was young and strong and swift and deadly as a viper, but he had a lively sense to him he loved. Both he and Elia had loved that brashness, and if she were with them, it would have made her smile. She would hate me for not avenging her. Indeed, when Jon Arryn came south to foster peace, he had bent the knee to the usurper and spoke words of fealty. Dorne was in no position to fight the rest of the Seven Kingdoms, despite what Oberyn wished to believe.
It did not mean he had sat idle while Elias murderers still breathed. They had made a pact between the dragon and themselves. Should Viserys cross he shall marry Arianne By then squabbling and rivalries would break the Usurpers alliance? Already it was cracking. Starks quarreled with Lannisters while the Roses wished to see the Lion replaced.
"Still, I wish to seek your leave to cross the Narrow Sea and seek a worthy prize."
"Ah," Doran said. "You wish to hunt the white lion and the golden stag?"
"Just the white lion." Oberyn smiled. "I don't kill children despite the sins of the uncle."
Doran nodded and tapped his fingers against his wheelchair. He had considered every angle. Calculated the risks and rewards of the action. "I don't know if you'll like the answer, Oberyn."
"I've listened to you." Oberyn said hotly. "For 17 years I've listened to every cautious word that comes out of your mouth, but now you'll deny me my hunt? The Old Lions son, his precious Jamie, lies outside of Westeros and the protection of the capital." The anger boiled over and he jumped from the velvet couch, poised and deadly. Areo's grip tightened along his axe. "Elia, our sweet sister demands justice! At night she comes to me in my dreams and asks why do they still draw breath, the men whom butchered my babes whom forced themselves upon me. Don't you love me? I can never answer her and you'll deny me this? Are you so cruel Doran?"
Oh, brother. Doran wished to weep for him. "I love Elia too."
"Do you, brother?"
Doran gripped the armchairs until his skin turned pale, and he chuckled. "You goad me." He said. "But you still haven't heard my answer."
His brother ceased his pacing and laughed. "Then say it. You know my opinion on this."
"Three years Prince Joffrey shall be exiled. "He reminded with a ghost of a smile. "We have three years to maximize this blow, Oberyn. In a year from now, the Starks may be at the Lannisters throats or two years from now, the usurper may be dead and the boy Prince Tommen shall become a king. We should wait before we strike. The perfect moment shall appear."
Oberyn laughed. "All we do is wait, brother. There shall never be a perfect time to strike, and if we wait we shall lose the opportunity to punish our sisters killer. If Ser Jamie had proven true, our niece and nephew may yet still draw breath. Instead, he slew the Mad King and did nothing else."
"Very well." Some sweat dripped off his brow, and he wiped it away. "You have my leave to order a strike, but." He waved a finger forward with command. "You shall remain in Dorne. I will not have this traced back to us. Should you leave, Lord Tywin shall blame us and a Lannister Queen still sits on the Iron Throne."
His brother grimaced. "Fine," He said with heat. "I'll remain here. Justice would feel better coming from my spear, but I'll accept your wisdom. I still have some contacts from my sells word days that shall proof useful. They'll stalk him and kill him and mayhaps Elia will smile in my dreams afterwards."
"I hope so, brother."
Winterfell - Catelyn
The days had passed slowly since King Roberts party left Winterfell. She had helped Robb with the transition of becoming acting Lord of Winterfell. They went over positions to the household that had to be filled since Ned took most of the household with him down south. Robbs direwolf Grey wind constantly by his side. A symbol of House Stark and the favor the Gods had bestowed upon him. Still, Winterfell felt empty without Ned and her other children. She missed brushing Sansas hair and holding Ayra close to her. She even missed the sight of Bran climbing all the towers of Winterfell.
If only they could come back
When word came of Brans injuries on the trident, it took every ounce of self-control not to rush south and retrieve her hurt boy. But Ned wrote he would recover and Robb still needed her here. She wrote to Bran at least a dozen letters to the Bloody Gate. I probably embarrassed him. But she found she cared little. It was her idea to send him to Jasper Arryn. She had yearned for her children to be close with Lysas boys and Jasper was ever courteous. Uncle Brynden's presence also made it an easier choice.
Still, it unnerved her just how distant her nephew could be. He should have grown up with family. Jasper would have made better company for her children than the Greyjoy boy or Snow. She walked to Rickons room to check up on him and his wolf. A fierce beast, much like her youngest, but both were being soothed by Old Nan and her stories. Stories of the Long Night and the children of the forest. Strange things that she understood little.
With Rickon taken care of, and Robb was out in the training yard with Theon Greyjoy crossing swords under Ser Rodricks careful tutelage. Catelyn retired a bit early to prepare for supper. She wanted to look over some sums the steward had provided them. Under the candlelight she sat in Neds chair in his solar. It was there Maester Luwin appeared in his long, overflowing robes. "From Ned or Bran?" She asked with hope.
"Neither my lady." Maester Luwin said. "It comes from Riverrun. It bears the seal of House Tully."
What news was coming from Riverrun? She wondered.
"Very well." She took the letter from his outreached hands and opened the wax seal. She noticed immediately it was Lysas handwriting and her heart quickened.
My dearest whore of a sister. How much you prattle on about your honor and precious family, and you've stolen the man I love like a no-good harlot. You couldn't stand my happiness and had to take advantage of my misfortune by confusing him with your advances. But the sad thing is you still see him as an innocent boy with an amiable smile. Petyr is now a man. Did you know he killed Jon Arryn to be with me? Myself! Not you! You can't beat me at everything! Has he mentioned such to you? I think not he pretends to be decent around you, but he's so much better when not constrained by your memory. So dangerous and powerful, a true romantic in every sense of the word. How I wish he poisoned my eldest boy as well. I asked for that, you know, but he refused me said the time wasn't right that it would be better for him to die in battle and make him a hero for the Vale in a war with the Lannisters. Do you see how brilliant he is? He would have your husband fighting House Lannister. He's wasted on a dullard like yourself. I needed to let him free from his delusions about yourself, for he is weak by your memory.
With love,
Lysa
Catelyn felt faint and could feel the bile in her throat as she stumbled and supported herself on the cold stone as Maester Luwin watched her. By the Seven. A cold shudder went through her body. Lysa, what have you done? She had refused to believe what her nephew had uttered in these halls. That Lysa could be capable of such horror, but these were her own words written by her hand. Was it true? Did Petyr really kill Jon Arryn? Or was this some fit of madness? Another lie. Then she thought of the words about her nephew and she was thankful that she had yet to eat supper. How could you write that about your own son? Catelyn could never even think about any of her children from her loins like that.
I told Ned to trust him like a brother. She remembered feeling pale and sick. What have I done?
Ned was in the capital unaware of the potential danger with her daughters, and her nephew was unaware that his father might have been murdered after all. She stumbled in the lords quarters screaming at Maester Luwins concerned face. "Robb, I need my son."
"My lady?" Luwin asked, alarmed. "Your shivering. What could possibly have been said? "
"Robb." Catelyn voice cracked like a whip. "I need my son here."
Maester Luwin offered a small bow, but she hardly noticed collapsing on the edge of the bed, reading over the letter until her eyes ached. Every line cut like a dagger to the heart. Tears wanted to flow, but she needed to be strong for her family. For Ned. For Robb. Family Duty Honor, she still lived by her family's words even if Lysa had forgotten every lesson they were taught. This was how Robb found her. Her beautiful boy stood tall and strong, and yet his voice was soft. "Mother? You're trembling." He asked, grasping her shoulders, supporting her with his own body.
"That matters little. You must read this." She shoved the parchment into his hand. "Both of you read this."
Robb hardened with every word he read just like her Ned as hard as the North itself. "Is this true?" He asked, handing it to Maester Luwin, whom read quickly and grew pale as a ghost.
"I know not Robb. It could very well be true. The words about myself are false. You know I love your father.
"Father must be warned and Cousin Jasper as well. They are in danger."
Maester Luwin finished and gulped. "This is grave news. Very grave, if true. Lord Baelish is Master of Coin and likely holds great sway in the capital, and this deceit with the Lannisters played brilliantly. It would have pitted you against House Lannister, for the aim I cannot say." She could scarcely understand the motivations of either of them. But she knew Ned needed to know what had transpired, and Robb and Luwin needed to understand the full truth.
"I must confess a truth to you. I didn't believe such, but Lord Jasper confessed to myself and your father that she threatened to kill her youngest son Robert Arryn."
Robb blinked vexed and swore. "I'm sorry mother, I know she is your sister, but-"
"I understand Robb. I feel similar."
Luwin stroked his chin, pondering. "But the question remains: how do we warn Lord Eddard?" Raven and messenger were out of the question. Who knows who has ears in the Eyrie or Kings Landing. The capital was a rats nest. It had to be one of them to bring the truth to Ned. They couldn't send anyone to the Eyrie without causing suspicion. Jasper would only believe it from Neds own mouth, and no one else.
"It has to be myself." Catelyn said. "I'll head south."
"Absolutely not!" Robb declared. "I'm the Heir of Winterfell. It's too dangerous for you to go, mother."
Cat shook her head. "All the more reason for you to remain in the North. This is your place."
Robbs shoulders slouched. "Fine, but you shall travel with a guard.
"It would be better to travel alone."
"No, mother you shall travel with six guardsman and Ser Rodrick himself." Robb used his lords voice to end it. "Take a ship from White Harbor. If the Gods are good, you shall arrive before the tourney."
If the Gods were good. They seldom were.
Authors Note: Next up a return to KL and the welcome feast at the Eyrie. As always I enjoy seeing reviews.
The Jingo: I'm glad you thought so! Any particular part you thought was savage?
Blackhawk43: Makes perfect sense to me. Jon was focused on the Realm and cleaning up Roberts messes while also dealing with an unhappy marriage with a girl 40 years his junior and he wanted to make Lysa happy. Plus, Baelish was seemingly good at his job so it makes sense.
Atp: I vow Ser Twenty good man won't appear!
Supremus85: It doesn't sound like a thing Jon A would say does it?