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Knock.

"Come in!" Tyrion called, lowering his quill. He sprinkled sand upon his newly written words so that the ink would not run, and set the raven scroll aside carefully to dry.

A second later, with a clanking of heavy chains, Samwell Tarly burst into the chamber. His face was rather pink from what had clearly been a sprint through the Keep to find the Hand of the King. Between pants, his mouth stretched into an enormous grin.

"It's ready, my lord!"

Robin fled through the corridors of the Red Keep, skidding along the stone floors in his haste. As he ran to his chamber, his vision grew more impaired by the moment as hot, angry tears clouded his eyes. Indeed, he almost knocked over two separate handmaids and a squire carrying an enormous jug of wine in his haste. All the while, Brandon's words echoed deafeningly in his ears, reverberating unbearably through his heart.

"We're leaving tonight!" he shouted thickly as he slammed the door of his chamber. At the desk, Alyssa looked up from her raven scroll in surprise. "We're going home to the Eyrie, and we're never, ever coming back!" Once more, he cast himself upon the bed, and began, noisily, to weep.

Instantly, Alyssa dropped her work and rushed to her charge's side. "Seven hells, Robin, what's happened?"

"The k-k-king was p-perfectly cruel to me!" he sobbed, not troubling to raise his head. "H-he insulted me! He d-d-degraded me! And worst of all: he-he knew all these things ab-b-bout me that he oughtn't have known!" A pathetic little wail escaped him, muffled by the blankets. "It was terrifying! He k-knew everything! L-like he could see all of it h-h-happening right in front of him! Oh Alyssa, I was so scared!" Miserably, he waited for Alyssa to comfort him.

Alyssa did not speak immediately. Neither did she lay her hand on his back, or even stroke his hair. "You knew this about Brandon Stark. You knew of his visions. What did you say to provoke him?"

"Provoke him?" Robin was confused, lifting his head an inch to wipe his streaming eyes. "How dare you! I didn't provoke him!"

"I find that hard to believe…" Alyssa whispered to herself, out of earshot of the distraught lord. Then-with some force-she spoke. "Robin, we can't leave. You have to marry the king."

"No!" Robin cried, his voice wet with tears. "I won't! I can't!"

"You will!"

Alyssa never raised her voice. But now-she shouted right back at him, her voice echoing up to the high stone ceiling.

"Stop acting like a spoiled brat!"

More surprised than anything, Robin turned his head to look at her, his eyelashes stuck together with tears. "Y-you can't shout at me." he said, sounding hollow rather than angry. "You can't say that! I am Lord of the Vale!"

Alyssa's face had grown quite red, her eyes very wild. "Of all the people in Westeros, Robin, you could benefit from being shouted at once in a while!" She stood tall over him, barking her words so furiously that spittle flew from her lips. "I have let you set the rules and play the game your way, but now, that is finished! It is over! And since you are lord of the Vale, I would have thought you'd put your people's interests ahead of your own selfish whims!"

Robin could hardly speak. "I-?" he whispered-before Alyssa started again.

"Do you think you are the first person in the world to be married against your will? Don't you realise how fortunate you are? For the sake of the Gods, Robin, every damn person in the world would kill to be in your position right now!"

Robin couldn't understand it. How could Alyssa, his closest confidant, his constant companion, have turned on him so? The world was upon its head. "I-if we were at home-" he began, gulping through sobs. "I-I would t-throw you through the Moon Door!"

"Oh, I'm sure you'd do it happily," Alyssa spat. "But we're not up high in the Eyrie. We're in Kings Landing, and you are here to wed the king! You are here to do what is right for the Vale!"

Robin felt like a helpless animal trapped in a cage. Hot tears spilled relentlessly down his cheeks and splashed onto the mattress. "I will never! You don't understand how horrible he was! I don't think anyone in the world has ever suffered as badly as I did at the hands of our king!"

Alyssa took a long, deep breath. When she let it out-finally, she grabbed Robin by the hand. However, this was not the comforting gesture he had been seeking. She was pulling him firmly to his feet.

"Come with me. I have to show you something."

"…What do you think?" Samwell asked nervously.

"Well…" Tyrion let out a long, low breath. By the light of the torches in the half-destroyed basements of the Red Keep, he regarded the newest invention in Westeros. And it was not a vision he would forget in a hurry.

It was a terrible thing, in truth. The contraption appeared to be comprised of two parts-the vertical, and the horizontal. The vertical part was a wooden frame that stretched high into the air; a good fourteen feet or so. However, there appeared to be a large metal blade positioned at the top of the frame, as sharp as glass and twice as deadly. Directly beneath the blade, there were wooden stocks, with a single large hole in the centre. The horizontal portion was on the same level as the stocks, and appeared to consist of a long wooden table-presumably, on which the person in the stocks would lie. And linking the whole thing together were an ingenious series of ropes and pulleys, whose operation were plain to any onlooker…

Tyrion was not by nature a proud man, and he was seldom seen even to smile in recent years. But there was a certain glint in his eye as he looked up at this magnificent contraption.

"I think it's exactly what Monkoen had in mind." He reached out a hand, and patted Sam on the back. "You have done very well."

"This is going to change everything!" Sam gabbled, staring up at his masterpiece with pride. "No more hacking at people with swords, no more mindlessly swinging blunt axes around. This will do the job cleanly, quickly, and consistently." He beamed at Tyrion. "Your instructions were impeccable. I couldn't have done it without you."

Tyrion gave a tight grin in return. "Indeed. The dawn of the humane execution is upon us." His tongue rolled around the oxymoron with some distaste-but the point stood. "I'd take it over burning, anyway…"

Hooded cloaks casting their faces in shadow, Robin followed Alyssa uncertainly through the back streets of the capitol. He had fought against her firm grip upon his hand-but now, he held on for dear life. All around him, the grey stone walls were covered in scratchings and graffiti, the ground beneath his boots was strewn with filth, and what Robin desperately hoped wasn't excrement.

"What's happening?" he asked, staying as close to her as he possibly could. "Where are we?"

Alyssa cast a dark look over her shoulder. "Welcome to Flea Bottom, Lord Arryn."

"Flea Bottom?" Robin felt more fearful by the step. "I don't like it. I want to go back to the Red Keep!"

"That's not an option for the people who live here," Alyssa said shortly. "And keep your voice down. One sniff of an accent like yours, and you'll be mugged."

Instantly, Robin pressed his lips together, his heart thumping in his chest.

Finally, they emerged onto a dirty cobbled street, which was overcrowded with residents of the slum. Robin gasped, and clapped his hand over his nose and mouth to try to smother the distinct smell of urine that filled the air. Lining the street, there were several sludge-coloured awnings, under which root vegetables and parts of extremely pungent fish were sold. Dominating the place was a stool that appeared to stock only a thin brown liquid brewing in a huge metal cauldron, which was sold by the bowlful for only a few pennies. Dogs barked incessantly, chasing the rats that scuttled busily down the gutters.

Robin stared, and stared, and stared.

But worst than all of this, were the people. Now he stood, literally face-to-face with the very poorest of Westeros for the first time in his life, he could hardly believe his eyes. He had never seen bones jutting out of flesh, nor eyes too large in their sockets, nor skeletal children sleeping curled up in doorways. Most strikingly of all…a far larger proportion than one would expect of the residents of Flea Bottom sported ugly burn marks.

"Please!"

Robin was startled. A young woman had thrown herself at Alyssa's feet, her muddy dress hanging off her shoulders-which shone sickeningly with burns.

"Please, my lady!" she begged.

Alyssa said nothing. Calmly, she reached into her pocket, and produced a silver coin. The moment this was received-the beggar rushed off into the crowd. She moved unbelievably quickly, almost a blur as she ran. Robin's stomach churned as he imagined just what she might have to run from…

"My mother came from a place like this," Alyssa's voice broke into his thoughts. "She was a whore."

Robin had no idea what to say.

"I don't ever want to hear about your "suffering" again."

Robin was almost too choked to speak. He simply could not fathom that places like this really existed in the world. The whites of the beggar girl's eyes haunted him…now, he could not shut the curtains of his carriage. Now-he was forced to face reality. "But-" he began-before lowering his voice to a whisper. "But-but why doesn't anyone do something about this?"

Ignoring his question, Alyssa turned to him, and placed her hands firmly on his shoulders. "Now do you see that the world is a cruel, and harsh place? Now do you see how lucky you are?"

There was nothing to say. Beneath his hood, Robin had begun to weep once again.

"I know you don't like him," Alyssa's voice softened slightly-before, passionately, it rose once again. "Gods, I can see how disagreeable he is. But this is bigger than you. For once in your life, think of someone other than yourself!"

As Alyssa led him back to the Red Keep, through the backstreets of the slums, Robin kept his head bowed. Again and again, the image of the beggar woman flashed through his mind. The whites of her eyes…for the first time in his existence, he realised that she had been every bit as human as he was…

Alyssa locked Robin's chamber door behind her as she went. The lord had asked her, very firmly, albeit with a funny sort of look in his eyes, to leave him to his thoughts. This, she was all too happy to do.

It was so close, she could almost taste it. Soon, she would drop her bastard name, leaving it and all its limitations behind her. She would be Lady Alyssa Royce of Runestone…

And after that…she had many, many plans…