Author's Notes:
There are multiple POVs in this chapter. For clarity, the POVs do not happen on the same day, but they do happen within days of each other.

Summerhall

Howland

He woke up with a pounding headache, a parched throat, and extreme weakness. "Water," he croaked, and one of his men brought a water skin to his lips. He wanted to drink like a man who had found water after wandering for days in a desert, but his man only allowed him a little before taking the waterskin away.

"How long?" He asked.

"Two days, milord. You were burning up with a fever the likes we have never seen. It refused to go down. We feared for your life, milord."

A sigh escaped his lips. The green dream had been different than any he had had in his life. The magic at Summerhall was different than the one at the Isle, and mayhaps the two had reacted poorly to each other, resulting in his state. He had had to rest for a few hours post his green dreams but he was never abed for two days, and there was never a chance of him not waking up. This was something he should never do again, he thought, even if the dream did provide him clues.

"Do you feel you can eat something, milord?"

"A bowl of broth, do not fill it up. Help me sit before you go, Owain."

Once he had a few mouthfuls of the broth, he enquired about Lord Forrester.

"He and a few Rovers went scouting for a village, milord, to get some supplies and the like. He has started to think about taking some men and going on his own, milord."

"How many men are in the camp currently?"

"Ten; a few are with Lord Forrester, one we sent the morning after your dream to Lord Stark, and a few are collecting herbs and the like for you."

"Okay. Send one man to catch up with Lord Forrester. They need to find out the house that has a sigil of a skull with a crown or a skeleton with a crown, something like that. Ask in the villages near here. Also, ask if there is a ruined tower near the border here, in the desert, possibly near the house with the skull or skeleton with a crown. If they do not get the information, send one Rover to Lord Stark to find out the information."

Giving even these instructions had tired him out.

"Help me lie down. Wake me up when Lord Forrester gets here."

Instructions given, Howland went back to a deep slumber.

Outside King's Landing

Wyman Manderly

Eddard Stark sat seemingly calmly in a chair in his tent. His eyes and the set of his jaw, however, gave the rage away. He had wondered briefly, after the battle on the Trident, whether or not to tell the Stark about his tells, but had dropped the idea. It was too advantageous for him to read his liege's mood through the facial clues, especially when said man was trying to portray a calm facade in front of him. He was young though, closer to Wendel and Wylis' age than his own, and he may learn yet. And if he did not, all the better for Wyman to read his moods. He was about to greet the Lord when he was invited to sit.

"Lord Manderly, have a seat."

"Thank you, My Lord."

"Would you prefer an ale or some wine?"

"Some wine, please."

They sat in companionable silence until one of the soldiers poured their wine and retreated outside the tent. He had noticed the soldiers keeping a distance from the tent, and others were actively discouraged from coming nearer. With the fact that the tent was surrounded by the northern army, the conversation was bound to remain private; something which he approved wholeheartedly.

"Lord Manderly, I need counsel, and I would heed your advice."

"My experience, knowledge, and wits are at your disposal, My Lord."

"Please call me Eddard when in private My Lord."

"And you must call me Wyman, Eddard."

A nod, before the lord broached the actual subject.

"If you were to stay away from White Harbor for a few years, who would handle things and how good would they be at handling your responsibilities in your absence?"

He took a sip from his goblet to take a measure of his thoughts as well as the young man. He had been expecting a small council position for a Northman, and few more positions in court, of course, but he was expecting few of Eddard Stark's newly made friends to get those, especially the Dustin, to get him and that wife of his away from the North and the resentment of the Starks. Then again, this was before his lord's outburst in the court, an ill-done thing, he thought. A clearing of the throat brought him out of his thoughts, and he smiled ruefully.

"A habit of mine Eddard, one that I have found hard to break."

"I understand. So, your responsibilities, can anyone in your family handle them if you are away for a few years?"

"With the right help, Wylis is capable of handling them. And if he faces any issues, he can certainly write to me about them."

"Good," he seemed to be struggling to put his thought into words as he continued hesitantly, "if the king were to offer you your old lands in the Reach tomorrow, what would you do?"

The gasp that tore from his mouth was a thing of disbelief, sorrow, and a lot of unnamed emotions. The question was so unexpected that his mask and composure had been completely broken through, shattered! The Manderly heirs had never forgotten the humiliation in the Reach and the generosity of the Starks, but never in several generations had anyone asked them such a question. Indeed, only the heirs knew of the exact history of the flight from the Reach and the shelter in the North, at least he thought so. The story was not taught to others and he sure as hells had not heard any of his smallfolk reciting or knowing the story, even the few families that had originally come with them from the Reach. More than likely, no one else knew the exact details, lost to history as they were.

"I would decline My Lord, instead ask the King for a boon in place of the lands." He explained further when he saw his Lord's raised eyebrow. "At the end Eddard, before we left, for a few years at least, mayhaps a decade, there was no peace in those lands, and at the very end, no support for us; all our supporters dead or turned. Even if we get the lands now, the next few generations of Manderlys will keep facing resentment, jealousy, and strife; it would end up being a cursed gift. There may even be another war in the Reach, a war that will drag all other kingdoms. Instead, a boon would see us flourish, and in turn, the Starks and the North as a whole would benefit."

"I see. You have given this some thought previously."

"Not the issue of the King granting the land, My Lord, but every Manderly heir is taught about the lands we came from, and we keep an eye on the current politics in the lands, just in case. I am sure several generations have wondered whether to try and gain it again, mayhaps for a second son. What made you ask the question, Eddard? Has the king said something?"

"The king has not said anything; I am sure the king has not even thought of this, no. I have been thinking about the fondest or greatest desires of the Starks as well as all our vassals. I wanted to see your reaction, wanted to know if you had thought about it."

That was surprisingly shrewd. Eddard had asked the question to see his reaction, to see beyond his mask, and he had certainly achieved the purpose. Even more, he knew the question which would give him an unguarded reaction, even if it was asked hesitantly and with low confidence. Before he could go further with his thoughts, the Quiet Wolf questioned him further.

"And how do you keep an eye, so to say, on the politics of these lands?"

"We have maintained trade relations with the Reach, Eddard. Information can be gleaned from a drunken sailor or a friendly merchant, sometimes with the aid of a few coins."

"Hmm. And what about the other regions in the Reach? What about other kingdoms? Do you keep an eye on them too?"

He was once again surprised by this follow-up question; however, he did not reveal his surprise, his mask, and composure, back in place. At the start of the war, he would never have imagined Eddard Stark to think about politics or spying, let alone ask such questions of him. He wondered if he was being asked this question because of trust or if his lord had asked others the same question naively.

"I do not have any active spies, of course. However, White Harbor is the largest port in the North. As such, we get merchants and sailors from all the kingdoms, even from across the Narrow Sea. I receive a lot of information through them. In the past, White Harbor has shared all pertinent information with Winterfell and will continue to do so, My Lord."

"You know about the game then?"

It was time for Wyman to raise an eyebrow then. "That is a typical Reach word Eddard, a tug of war game between multiple families to gain the largest possible political influence, a game of thrones, used since the time the kingdoms were separate. Yes, I know about the game. Why do you ask?"

Eddard Stark sighed before speaking further, "It seems that the North needs to play the game, now more than ever, even as isolated as we are, especially due to the current instability and the changed political scenario. I need someone in this wretched city to play the game for the North, someone with knowledge on how to play the game, someone with the patience to deal with the Southrons, someone to ensure that we are not neglected, that we do not get just the scraps, and to keep an eye on the politics of the new dynasty and the kingdoms as a whole, as you say. What do you say, Wyman? Would you be amenable to living in the city as one of the small council members, to be my eyes and ears in this city?"

"It would be an honor, My Lord."

"Do you understand that the city has not been kind to its residents in the recent past? Do you need more time to think about the potential risks?"

"I understand, Eddard, and I really do not need more time. I am happy to serve, as always."

"Very well, let us discuss in more detail what I want from you."

Wyman exited the tent after a couple of hours with politics and food on his mind. He was ravenously hungry since the meal offered by his Lord was nowhere near sufficient for him. At the same time, his mind was churning with the possibilities that a small council position would afford the Manderlys in particular and the North in general, while also worrying about the capability of Wylis to manage everything in his absence. In any case, interesting times were ahead for him.

Tower of the Hand

Tywin

"So, how was the Lords' meeting or is it the small council meeting now?"

He looked up from the paper and pointed Kevan towards the chair. Only Kevan was allowed to interrupt his writing, and he was smart enough to do it very seldomly. He went back to finish his notes and waited for the ink to dry before putting the notes away.

"It is the Lords' meeting still. The small council meetings will start soon though, few positions have been finalized by the King and the Hand."

"Ohh! You are not happy."

Kevan's observation was on point, as always. He was the only one of his siblings who seemed to be able to read him. He sighed and relaxed, something he did with only those who had gained his absolute trust.

"No position for any Lannisters, yet. Arryn will be the Hand, as expected. Pycelle will retain his position. Manderly will be the Master of Coin. Varys may or may not retain his position, it is yet unresolved, and he remains for now a 'guest' of the crown. Most likely, the other positions will go to Stormlords; mayhaps a Riverlander, but have not been decided yet. Robert will not marry until the siege at his home ends and until he has news about the Stark girl."

"When are we to move out of here?"

"A couple more days, most likely. For now, Arryn is happy not to climb these many stairs."

"Any news of the Stark girl?"

"Nothing yet. We will see."

"What about the Kingsguard, and what about Jaime?"

"Robert offered to release Jaime from the vows; the fool says that he has not yet decided. Other positions will be filled once the rest of Aerys' Kingsguard is dealt with. It seems that Ser Barristan is a prisoner of the Stark, and Robert wants him to bend the knee and be his Lord Commander."

"Another point where they do not agree, I suppose."

"Indeed, the northern fool wants to escort him to the Wall or ransom him for the men who captured him or some such nonsense."

"And what of Dorne and Dragonstone?"

"Both unresolved until Storm's End is relieved of the siege. Dorne's strength is halved though and Doran will not act rashly, so that can be handled later. The same for Dragonstone; they do not have enough men to launch an attack, and none of us currently have enough ships to challenge them. If Reach comes into the fold peacefully, we can think about using the Redwyne and Hightower ships. Until then, we wait."

"What do you think of them; Robert Baratheon, Jon Arryn, and Eddard Stark, now that you have seen them closely?"

"Arryn is the one to watch. He will rule, much as I did with Aerys. The Baratheon and the Stark are fools, Stark is a bigger one, mind. Robert has some wits in that brain of his, not as much as Steffon, but enough to listen to Arryn. He does not have a mind for ruling though, he has seemed disinterested to the point of falling asleep for most of our meetings so far. He will be a poor to middling king, better than Aerys, but then that is no standard for any king. The Stark has murder in his eyes and contempt on his face, and not just for me, the same for the Baratheon. On many issues, Stark seems ready to fight Robert."

"They are at the breaking point then."

"They are. Arryn seems to be holding them together for now. However, Stark has been given the responsibility of bringing Tyrell to heel; he will be out of court, giving me enough time to break them apart further, as well as convince Arryn and Baratheon to accept Cersei as the queen. Once the marriage is done, then we can think further about the Stark, if necessary. The fool may break the alliance himself once Robert marries Cersei, wroth as he is with us Lannisters. We can then slowly increase our influence at court."

He dismissed Kevan and his thoughts turned toward the players. Robert could be manipulated, he had seen Arryn do it already in the couple of meetings that they had had. Stark would likely return to the North and would be irrelevant. Arryn would be the power behind the throne; he would need to find Arryn's weaknesses before deciding on how to manipulate him. The only unexpected factors, for now, were the Stark girl and Jaime. Robert still seemed to be infatuated with the girl. If she survived and Robert married her, then mayhaps he would offer for a marriage between Cersei and Stannis, if he survived. The game would change, but he was adaptable and patient. He would turn the game in his favor, whether the Stark girl lived or not. The matter with Jaime was more complicated; if he failed to convince the fool to give up the white cloak and return home, then he supposed he would be forced to marry, lest The Rock went to the dwarf. The thought of sharing a life with someone other than Joanna was repugnant, some empty-headed twit wanting to marry him for the riches of The Rock. No, never! He would drag Jaime in chains if need be, but his heir was coming back with him.

Author's Notes:
Expect a delay in the release of the next chapter. I know where I am going and what I want, just finding it difficult to put it into words.