Chapter Sixteen: Dangerous Secrets
"I can't believe it," gushed Ashara, her face looking into her own staring back at her. It was her standing in front of her, it was amazing every mannerism was hers. She reached out and touched her own face before circling around to look at every aspect of her mirror image.
"How long have you been able to do this Edric?" she whispered when she returned to face herself.
The face in front of her that was her own smiled back at her and in her own voice Edric spoke, "Over a year now"
"Why didn't you tell me?" she queried in confusion feeling a little hurt.
Rickard stepped forward, "I told him to keep it quiet, I saw the advantage it would have for us if this was a secret"
"How can this help us now?" pressed Ashara still feeling confused, looking to Rickard in confusion.
Rickard looked to Edric in the form of Ashara and nodded his head once, "Show her"
Ashara sat and watched as her son in her form bent down and picked up a medallion. A Stark medallion.
Edric took a deep breath and in an instant he changed form from Ashara to Lyanna Targaryen, his aunt.
Ashara cried out a little in surprise and sat back in her chair looking up at her son showing her his gift with shock and wonder on her face.
"Tell mother what else you can do Edric" said Rickard from across the room
In response Lyanna closed her eyes and smiled, "I can access her thoughts and memories for a short time"
Ashara leaned forward and could not contain her excitement, "Thoughts?"
Lyanna nodded, "It comes as flashes and sometimes I don't know what things mean but-"
"It's all we have for now" interjected Rickard, "and it's our best shot at finding something for Oberyn"
"I'm glad Oberyn didn't find out you can do this," breathed Ashara as she gazed up at Lyanna, "He would've killed us all for this, in his eyes we would be the most dangerous threat to his family. Speak of this to no one" she warned seriously, her face grave.
"We won't mother," said Rickard coming to sit across from Ashara, "because tomorrow we are leaving"
"Where are you going?"
"Driftmark" said Edric in Lyannas form, "that's where she went from here"
Ashara mulled things over in her mind, she was loathe to let her boys out in the world without her but she knew it was time for them to be without her. After a moment she looked to Rickard with concern.
"Keep safe and take only our most trusted guards, bear no sigils and keep your wits about you. Frankly I'm surprised nobody else has gone looking on Driftmark for Targaryen survivors before. I suppose nobody thought they survived so they didn't bother"
"The Lord of the Tides himself went to Kings Landing and bent the knee, he gave King Robert no reason to suspect otherwise," said Rickard in his even way of speaking. "It will be interesting to see just how much he knows"
Rickard stood and went to walk past his mother, she reached up and grasped his arm.
"Rickard whatever you do make sure it's in the most subtle form you can manage, please," she looked to him with pleading eyes, "don't be discovered"
Rickard smiled down at the concern she showed for him and in the moment was grateful she was his mother.
He gently patted her arm, "Of course, with a situation this sensitive I will tread carefully"
Satisfied she smiled slightly and released the grip on his arm, "Look after each other and keep your eyes and ears open at all times"
Her purple eyes shone up to her beloved son glistening with tears as she spoke, Rickard leant down and gently kissed his mothers forehead.
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The waves crashed gently against the boat as the unmarked vessel sailed away from Starfall. Ashara had waved them off from the dock and stayed there wistfully watching and whispering protections over their journey. The wind swayed her long dark hair from side to side, her purple eyes glistened with tears and from behind her the sun shone. She felt helpless and this was the only action she could take to keep her sons safe. With the boys wolves by her side she remained on the dock until they disappeared over the horizon. The boys watched from the boat as their mother and home grew smaller and smaller in their wake. Both felt trepidation but excitement at what was to come. It had been their secret dream to travel the world together and when Edric had shared his gift with Rickard they knew it would come useful someday. Now they stood side by side, waves crashing against their boat and the spray peppering their faces. Next stop, Driftmark.
"What's our plan when we actually get to Driftmark?" asked Edric softly as the ocean sprayed their faces and the sun shone warmly across the ship.
Rickard smiled and simply replied, "You are my plan"
The merchant ship bobbed happily on the breeze over the waves of the calm sea for day after day. The two Stark boys are known to the crew, yet they blend in as if they are the crew. They work while the sun is in the sky and they drink and laugh under the stars. At first the work was tough being noble born and all but after a few days of constant sweat on their brow and aching hands after a hard day they become accustomed. In a short time they seized their role as sailors and relished every moment of it. Sinking cups of ale under the starry sky with their crew was a highlight of the journey and often the brothers would peel away from the group and sit side by side and drink together. It was the most freedom they'd ever felt in their lives, it made something within them sing and they wanted it to never end. The only parts of home they missed were their wolves and their mother.
A week passed and then another before land emerged from the horizon, calls from above rang down the mast.
DragonStone.
They were close now, Driftmark was the next island over. This island was one they wanted to steer clear well of, DragonStone was claimed by Stannis Baratheon who they'd been told took counsel from a Red Witch from across the Narrow Sea. This made both brothers feel an ominous feeling in the pits of their stomachs, and rightly so they wanted to stay as far from her as possible.
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Arriving at Driftmark was chaotic, the port was busy and somewhat congested. It was after all a port town, and the galleys and ships seemed to come from all over the world. Traders and merchants of all types were attracted to Driftmark. All around banners of House Velaryon flew, reminding one and all who was the ruling family. Once the Merry Maid which the Stark boys affectionately called their ship docked it was time to unload. And just because they had an ulterior motive for coming to Driftmark didn't mean they could shirk their responsibilities. Carts of wares were unloaded, cases of fine Dornish wines, rolls of fine material, and more seemed to be packed into the ship. All of which it seemed had been ordered and paid for by someone who awaited for them here. Men scurried to and fro once the load was ashore, and without question the haul they had travelled with disguised as sailors dissipated. The crew went about their usual jobs and the boys took that as their cue to take their leave. And so they slipped off the boat and made their way into the busy port town as the banners of House Velaryon flapped and snapped over their heads in the wind.
"What are we looking for exactly?" Edric asked his brother as they wound through a busy market bustling with vendors selling their wares.
Dodging the chaotic and unpredictable crowds with a fluid ease Rickard glances at his brother knowingly.
"We need a way in, a way that won't get us killed or discovered"
Edric gulped and looked around, the task they had been given began to feel impossible again.
The brothers hatched many plans and ideas to try and get close to Monterys Velaryon but nothing seemed to get them where they needed to be. Edric spent an unhappy night as a popular courtesan to Rickards amusement, another as a servant in the castle, several nights as a cook in the kitchens and the shortest role he tried was working in the stables. Whilst all of these had the possibility of getting close to Monterys Velaryon Rickard wasn't satisfied, they lacked something. He wasn't sure what but it didn't feel right and so with each and every plan that was scrapped their confidence took a hit.
"It's just not right," emphasised Rickard, "it has to be perfect we only have one chance to do this"
Edric tiredly watched his brother pace in their cramped quarters of the ship, rubbing his eyes and yawning he was on the edge of falling into slumber.
"We've tried many different ways brother" said Edric sleepily, "maybe we should sleep on it"
Temporarily Rickards shoulders slumped as he faced away from his brother, Edric sat up and looked curiously at his older brother. Rickard was thoughtfully stroking his chin, his mind running through scenarios in his head over and over.
Suddenly he turned, a smile on his face, "I've got it! I think," he paused and looked sheepishly at Edric, "but you're not going to like it"
Edric groaned, "Don't even think about getting me to be a courtesan again!"
"No, no we can't do it the same way twice. But I have a way into the castle, once you're in there I need you to let me in and then I'll take over"
Edric looked curious, "How am I getting into the castle?" he asked with a hint of trepidation.
Rickard smiled mischeavously, "You're going to get arrested"
Edric rolled his eyes but patiently listened as Rickard began to detail the plan as the candles flickered all around them.
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The following night sailors from all corners of the world converged on the inns and pleasure houses of Driftmark. Eager to drink away whatever they sought to drown, they were packed shoulder to shoulder in the inns jostling for a table and yelling over each other to be heard. The noise was defeaning, the smell was pungent being a mixture of salt and sweat. Seasoned sailors and hardened men toasted to their fortunes or drowned their miseries. A tall dark haired man shouldered his way to the bar to return drink in each hand, from the side he was shoved abruptly sending a shower of ale over the men closest to him. Yelling in disdain he looked after the offender only to see a younger man running off, coin purse in hand shouldering his way through the swarm with ease.
Instantly he shouted, "Thief stop! Guards, stop the thief!"
Across the inn several guards stood waiting for trouble, they bristled and sprung into action without hesitation. They gave chase as the thief emerged from the swarm of bodies, following the thief out into the night. Rickard burst out of the inn and followed the guards, in search of his stolen coin.
The air was cool and salty, darkness enveloped the alleyways and cloaked the thief's escape. His footsteps echoed around him as he ran breathless down an alley, the shouts of guards in his wake. They blazed after him torches in hand, and turned to follow him into the alley. Running still, in the dark the thief tripped over a stack of empty crates falling with a crash and a thud onto his knees. The coin purse slid across the ground with several coins clattering across the alleyway noisily. Panting from the chase the thief hurriedly sought to scoop them up, but as he was closing his hand over the last remaining coin a large black boot clapped over his hand. Looking up, a stern ominous face peered down at the thief, purple eyes flashing. Sword out, pointed directly at him, the thief was caught. Dropping his head wearily, Edric stood and was roughly arrested and charged with his crime. Rickard came running down as Edric was hauled away, "That's him! That's the thief that stole my coin! Where is it? Where's me coin?" he spoke in a rough dialect of a commoner, face indignant staggering slightly as if inebriated.
"Don't know what you're talking about," returned the soldier gruffly, "we didn't find no coins"
"Seven hells….." started Rickard in outrage, but he was met with a spear and a sword to the throat and gut.
"Be quiet lad or coins won't be the only thing you be losing tonight" warned the purple eyes guard.
Rickard raised his hands in surrender, stepping back slightly, "Alright, alright I hear ya. Just glad ya caught the thieving bastard" he spoke venomously and spat towards Edric.
Unable to avoid the spray Edric turned his head and cursed which seemed to inflame Rickard. He charged the thief, and had to be held back by the guards with free hands.
"I hope they let ya swing!" he yelled after Edric the thief belligerently as his brother was dragged past him.
As Edric passed by though Rickard stepped forward and said almost inaudibly, "Three days"
Edric bobbed his head, but Rickard was unable to tell if he nodded in acknowledgement or pain. All he could do was hope this would work.
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The cells were a miserable place, constantly wet and damp with ways for the seawater to creep in at the turn of the tide. Thrown into a cell only big enough for one Edric languished for two days. Knowing only the change of day to night by the tiny slit of light that penetrated high above his head. Otherwise he would've been in complete darkness and disorientated about how long he'd been there. Water began to swish and swirl around his feet, coldness rising all around him. Lifting his constantly wet feet out of the water he crouched on the hard rock slab grumbling internally about how terrible his brothers plans are for him. Nonetheless he didn't forget his purpose for being here, he watched, waited and planned the whole time he was imprisoned. Guards came twice a day bringing food making sure to keep their distance with spears. They came in pairs every morning, but only one came at night. This pleased Edric, he sat in silence and waited.
On the third evening, the lock rattled on time and Edric looked up and smiled. The guard opened the door and looked around warily, he wanted to shove the food down and get out. He was late for his rounds which would surely give his superior something to punish him for. Stepping into the cell slightly he saw the prisoner standing, smiling.
"Step back scum," he growled angrily shoving the plate towards him.
Edric simply smiled and showed his hands, he was free of his chains. Starting forward the guard went to restrain the prisoner, the plate clanged to the ground and the rotting food tumbled across the floor. Edric simply stepped aside and changed form.
The guard reeled from missing the prisoner and turned to see where he went, if he had escaped-
But as he turned his heart froze, his wife stood behind him tears rolling down her face holding a bundle in her arms.
His face dropped, his heart froze and he lurched forward to touch her. His hand passed right through her, she dissipated into smoke. Suddenly the wails of a baby echoed all around him, the echoes of the baby he lost and the sobbing of the wife he lost to the birth. Scrambling around the cell, surrounded by eerie smoke he frantically searched for the prisoner and his wife. He was confused, she was dead, why was he seeing her. A scornful laugh rang around from behind him, he knew that laugh. It was a sound he had dreaded his whole life, the laugh of his mother.
'Such a disappointment,' murmured the voice of his dead mother, 'useless….'
The voice hissed around him as he fell to his knees, grabbing his ears and screamed painfully. Smoke still swirled around the room and Edric emerged from the smoke behind the guard. Staring down at the man crouched in agony on the ground he touched the guard who startled at his touch. Before the guard knew what was going on Edric retreated from the cell, in the form of the Guard. Slamming the cell door shut and turning the lock the men came face to face. Edric stared back at the guard with his own face, while Edric looked at his own face looking at him from behind bars. This was a new development in his abilities, something he didn't know was possible, but useful all the same. The trapped guard screamed for help, calling for the other guards to release him. Edric smiled and disappeared into the dark corridor, wondering to himself how long he would stay in the guards form and how long the guard would stay in his.
His time as a servant gave Edric a basic understanding of the castle layout, just as Rickard had instructed him he went to the western gate. The only light came from the moon high and bright in the sky, he strode as if he was on patrol nodding to other guards as he went. Passing by the Western gate it was empty of guards, covertly he raised the lock and it creaked slightly ajar. Rickard quickly slipped through and the brothers flitted through the dark, damp castle in search of the Lord of the Tides.
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Monterys Velaryon stared out from his window across the ocean, the room behind him lit with numerous candles flickering as the breeze swirls through the room. His wife lays asleep in bed, her slender form covered but her silver hair cascading down her back and over the side of the bed. He was content, his domain was prospering, he loved his wife and his children were healthy and strong. Yet something felt like it was missing, ever since Rhaegar had left he felt like he was just existing. Looking across the sea he longed to know where his cousin was, he was alive out there somewhere. And he knew one day he would return, that possibility caused excitement to bubble in his gut. Monterys sighed, "Where are you cousin?" He murmured, "When will you return?"
A breeze picked up and swirled around the room causing the candles to flicker, and some to extinguish completely. Monterys hair flew around his face, he chuckled to himself.
"All in good time I suppose," he said to himself as he turned from the window and extinguished the remaining candles to retire for the night. Just as he reached the last candle a sharp knock sounded at the door, Monterys looked up sharply. This was unusual, no one disturbed him at night, what was wrong?
Opening the door only slightly he murmured so not to wake his wife, "Who is disturbing me?"
He saw through a wall of guards, "Sir an urgent scroll has come, for your eyes only"
A scroll was held up for Monterys, he slipped an arm out to grasp it but the guard held it back.
"You need to open it in your office," spoke the guard in an even tone, which Monterys was not aware was full of compulsion.
Monterys hand froze in the air, and slipped back inside the door, a moment later he emerged to whisper instructions to his personal guards.
"Follow me to my office," he said with authority, "I'll read the scroll in there"
The guards nodded and followed Monterys as he swept past them, leading them to his offices.
Once in there he sat and looked up expectantly at the Guards, "Why do two guards bring me urgent scrolls? Where is Maester Aelyn?" suspicion rose in his voice as he felt something was off.
The guards looked to each other and one of them removed his helm.
Monterys produced a dagger, "Tell me who you are, now"
"Put the dagger down Monterys" said Rickard, obediently the dagger was lowered, "no one is here to hurt you"
Monterys looked shocked, "what do you want?" he spoke through gritted teeth sure they were here to hurt him.
Rickard and Edric exchanged a glance, then Edric stepped forward.
"We are like you, waiting for them to return. We are not your enemies"
Monterys froze, "waiting for who to rerun exactly?"
Rickard leaned forward across the desk, "You know who, they left through your port many years ago"
The colour drained from Monterys face, "How could you know that?"
"We just do" returned Rickard, but quick as lightning Monterys grasped the dagger and held it to Rickards throat.
"Tell me…..who…..you…..are" he spoke menacingly.
"Time for a change of plans," grinned Rickard, he looked down to Monterys, "you don't want to do this…."
He laid on the compulsion thick and heavy, more than he wanted to use. Monterys' eyes glazed over and a pleasant smile spread across his face.
"I don't want to do this," he said dreamily, and the dagger cluttered back to the desk.
"You will tell us everything," continued Rickard while Edric watched in amazement still in the form of the guard.
"I'll tell you…..everything…." parroted Monterys.
"We only want to know about the Targaryens," said Edric as he stepped forward trying to not raise his voice too high. He was conscious of other guards outside the door.
Rickard nodded in agreement and turned back to Monterys, "Tell us everything about your cousin and his family. Do the children live?"
"Yes," giggled Monterys blissfully in full grips of the compulsion, "all Rhaegar's children live…."
"Give us proof," said Edric, "how can you prove Rhaenys and Aegon live?"
"Yes," pressed Rickard, "give us proof they live"
Without hesitation Monterys opened a drawer and pulled out a small bag and placed it between himself and Rickard on the desk.
He smiled blissfully unaware he just gave away a valuable piece of proof he had harboured Rhaegar and his family.
Rickard gently picked up the bag and opened it, he drew out a dress and a necklace in the shape of a three headed dragon.
"What is this?" Rickard questioned suspiciously
"These belong to Princess Rhaenys, my personal servants found them when I told them to scour their suite for belongings. It had fallen down the side of her bed"
Rickard held the dress and necklace in his hands for a moment before passing them to Edric. He too gently held them in his hands and activated his magic, Rickard watched expectantly.
"Well? Is this what we need? We need to get out of here brother"
Edric looked up, his eyes shining, "This did belong to Rhaenys"
"Go," ordered Rickard, "I'll meet you at the boat"
"But-" started Edric.
"No brother you must go, your disguise is fading. Times running out, go. I need to leave in my own way"
Confused but knowing better than to argue especially with time running out Edric stepped out of the room to hurry back to the boat.
The next day the sun rose and slowly rays of light lightened Monterys room, he groaned slightly and moved his head. Instantly his head pounded painfully, he felt like his head was full of cotton wool. Confused he tried to remember his evening, but that only made his head hurt even more. Bracing his head with his hand he rolled to the side to face his wife, she chuckled and rested her arm across his body.
"You were so restless last night my Love" she purred.
"Allara, what happened last night? I feel like I-"
"Drank too much?" she chuckled, "you do smell that way"
"But I don't remember…."
"That's what happens dear," she smiled and lowered her voice, "I know you're struggling Monterys, but they will return one day. Rhaegar promised they would come back, be patient"
The mention of Rhaegar triggered some recognition but as quick as it came thundering headaches took over. Monterys went to open his mouth but it felt like a desert.
"Allara, water please"
She put a cup to her husbands lips and helped him drink, she traced her fingers across his forehead.
"Rest today my Love, it seems you need it"
Monterys smiled sleepily, his eyes closing heavily. Allara continued stroking her husbands face until he was deeply asleep. She smiled sweetly as she watched over him, her lilac eyes kind and loving. Monterys began to snore slightly which gave Edric his cue to go. Lady Allara slipped from the room and as she stepped into the corridor the disguise changed into that of a guard. Only then did Edric slip down to the docks and seek out the Merry Maid to return home.
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Bran slipped in and out of consciousness as he swung helplessly on the cliff face, the pain would come and send him back into a fit of dreams and visions. He didn't know how long he had been there, but when they failed to return Ned Stark sent out search parties to find them. Little did Ned know just how deep in the woods they had ventured, despite their best efforts they couldn't find Bran and Arya. The wolves followed trails but the trails went cold, in the dark they circled noses to the ground puzzled at being unable to find them. In the distance a wolf howled, they raised their heads and returned her call, their leader was coming. A short time later she emerged through the moonlight, leading a hooded figure through the forest. Lyarra stopped in front of the figure and looked up to him, she whined slightly. Behind her the pack assembled, hundreds of furry bodies had come from all corners of the North to find their missing Starks.
"Over here," spoke the figure quietly as he pushed through the dense scrub in the dark, pushing through without light following some unseen trail. Lyarra followed along with several of her closest from the pack, the figure lead them into a part of the forest they hadn't searched yet. The trees suddenly had stopped growing and the clearing that they emerged onto was a rock ledge, the figure peered over carefully. He pointed.
"Bran is there"
Lyarra also looked over the edge and whined before growling loudly. She stood very still only swivelling her ears as she listened for a response. A noise came, which was inaudible to the figure standing by Lyarra but she leapt back and spun excitedly in a circle. Looking up at the figure she whimpered slightly, even if Bran was there how would they get to him.
The figure smiled and removed his hood, "It's not just the Starks who have power in the North my Lady," the moon shone over his young face as he closed his eyes and stilled his mind. Several minutes passed and nothing happened, a wind rose but it died down again. A slight rumble rattled the ground under their feet, but it was imperceptible at first. The sound of rattling grew louder as stones on the surface of the rock ledge began to clatter. The wolves whimpered and stepped back slightly, only Lyarra remained firm unleashing a powerful howl which seemed to encourage the reverberations under their feet to intensify so the entire ledge shook violently. Without warning several white roots exploded from the rock face, sending a shower of rocks and boulders crashing into the stream below. The roots spun and slithered along the rock face, several converging on Brans unconscious form wrapping around him firmly and pushing him upward. The young man and Lyarra stepped back as the weirwood roots gingerly placed Brans body on the now calm ground. The roots gently released their grip around him to allow Lyarra to check on him. The boy kneeled by Brans side and checked his pulse, he breathed in relief when he felt the flutter ripple under his fingertips.
"He's alive," breathed the boy in relief.
Lyarra whimpered and licked Brans hand excitedly, Bran groaned and stirred. The boy made a shushing noise, "Relax Bran, we will get you home soon"
"Who are you?" groaned Bran, "who sent you?"
The boy smiled, "My family is pledged to yours, I was sent by the Old Gods," he sat back so the moonlight fell across his face. Bran squinted his eyes as he focused on his face, the blurriness subsided and he saw the boy looking back at him.
"My name is Jojen Reed, and I've been sent to help you"
"Thank you," was all Bran could muster before he passed out.
Jojen placed a finger between Brans eyes and closed his eyes, a vision played out in his minds eye. The events that led to Bran being pushed from the ledge, and who was there. Standing grimly Jojen straddled the weirwood roots as they snaked between his legs. Raising an arm he sliced his skin with a dagger and let a steady stream of blood drop over the roots. The blood lingered for a moment before being sucked into the roots.
"Take this offering Old Gods, a tribute for the casting of a curse. A blood curse so devastating that the receiver shall know no joy, shall never sleep without terror, will watch everyone she loves die before her, and when death comes for her she will beg for it rather than fight. You will be the Cursed Queen, Cersei of House Lannister, the Old Gods are coming for you"
The weirwood roots shivered in response and began to slither away, back down the cliff face and into the depths of the earth. Jojen called after them, "Does this mean the forest is awakened?"
The roots stopped momentarily and the ground shook gently under Jojen's feet, before they disappeared completely. Smiling he turned back to Lyarra, "The Old Gods have risen"
Lyarra raised her head and howled loudly, and her howl reverberated across the valley being joined by thousands of wolves all across the North. The sound carried on the wind and as it touched the ears of wolves near Winterfell they joined in. The sound of howling woke Ned Stark and he realised Lyarra was not in his room. He ran to the window from bed, and stared out into the night as the howling continued. Hope was in his heart this chorus of howling meant his children had been found.
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The howling of thousands of wolves across the North rang throughout the night, it was heard in the suite given to King Robert and Queen Cersei. The energy of Lyarras magic combined with Jojens curse combined to push Cersei deeper into dreams. While Robert stirred and looked around groggily Cersei did not stir.
She slowly opened her eyes, she was back in her room in Kings Landing. Alone in her bed, the way she liked it, stretching happily like a cat she rolled on her side and stepped from the bed. A waiting maid slipped her favourite gown around her shoulders, crimson red with gold brocade, the Lannister lion draped across the back. Something about wearing this gown swelled her power, her sense of self worth and her sense of entitlement. She felt like a Queen, like THE Queen. Seating herself in front of her mirror she admired her reflection, a perfect mix of beauty and arrogance she turned her face from side to side in the flattering morning light. Slowly she began to brush her long golden hair that shone splendidly in the bright sunshine. Her maid quietly slipped a chalice next to her and faded away into the room, ready for more commands. Elegantly she lifted the chalice to her lips and took a long sip, yet instead of tasting sweet Arbor wine her mouth filled with vile, bitter liquid. Cersei dropped the chalice and it smashed at her feet, wine spreading across the marble floor like blood. She spat the liquid from her mouth, it looked like wine but it tasted like poison. Movement above her head caught her attention, her gaze was drawn upwards to an enormous snake coiled around the curtain rod. It's thick body coiled around the drapes and it's enormous head watched her with it's tongue twitching in and out of its mouth. Cersei shrieked and called for the guards scrambling backwards to escape. The chair she had been seated in fell and crumbled to pieces, the maid who had been at her beck and call was gone. The snake advanced on her and the moment it began to move a terrible hissing voice sounded in the confines of her mind. It smashed against her senses impacting her vision causing her to brace her head and scream. Seductively the snake slithered towards Cersei, as she writhed on the ground unable to stop the strange hissing language sounding in her mind. She could only see through the pain the tiniest bit and tried in vain to escape the snake. But she was weakened by the pain in her head, her hair trailed along the ground getting soaked in the wine as she scrambled away from the advancing beast. Before she knew it she could feel the snakes powerful muscles sliding along her body. It raised its head high above her and opened its mouth exposing its long, curved fangs dripping with poison. Shrieking again for help she tried in vain to protect her face with her hands. With a loud hiss the snake struck multiple times on her neck and chest, the shock of the strikes knocked the wind out of Cersei. She tried but failed to call out, her calls dying in her throat, everything went black as she collapsed blood pouring from her wounds and the energy of the curse slowly coursing through her body. The snake wasn't finished though, it slithered off her body and came to rest at her feet. Cersei's body tried to fight the curse running through her body, she convulsed on the floor blood pooling around her. The snake waited, it's tongue sliding in and out of its mouth and it's yellow eyes fixed on her body. Soon it would be time for a meal, as the blood poured and she slowly stopped convulsing the snake simply watched. At last Cersei stopped moving, the snake opened its mouth wide, and horrible cracking snapping noises sounded through the room as it's jaw unhinged. It needed to do this, how else was it to consume a human? The snakes mouth tripled in width and height, a perfect amount to swallow a human whole. The last part of the curse would be complete, with its enormous mouth wide open and fangs at the ready it began at Cerseis feet. Swallowing her body whole would take time, it slowly made its way up her legs bit by bit sinking it's fangs into the flesh of her legs to pull itself along. The fangs sunk in like a knife in butter, with absolutely no resistance. With the last of her strength Cerseis eyes fluttered open, and saw the snake devouring her. She screamed a blood curdling scream, so loud and terrible it shocked her out of the nightmare and back in her physical body. Back in Winterfell.
Her body was shaking in fear, and she screamed so fearfully Robert rolled over and grabbed her in his arms tightly.
"Cersei?" he asked in the dark, worried. Even in the dark he saw the terror and fear in her eyes.
"You're- trembling" he whispered hoarsely, his voice lost after a night of drinking, yelling and whoring.
Cersei looked into his face and shuddered as the memories of the snake in the dream sent her body into panic. Without thinking she threw her arms around Robert and sobbed into his shoulder in the dark. Shocked and unsure what he should do Robert wrapped his arms around his wife and sat holding her. Two guards hastily entered the room at the sound of Cersei's distress their swords out, but Robert raised his hand to assure them all was ok. One of the guards was Jamie, his mouth dropped open at the way Cersei was embracing Robert. Pangs of intense jealousy bubbled within him as he watched the way she desperately clung to her husband instead of him.
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Arya's body lay bloody and broken half submerged in the creek. Trails of blood streamed from a nasty gash on her head onto the ground by her side and into the creek which bubbled incessantly behind her. Coming in and out of consciousness was painful and she had managed to clamber from the creek she had floated down before collapsing. The fall from the ledge had been devastating, she knew she had broken bones but the wind she had conjured shielded her from the worst of it. It had saved her life, and pushed her down the creek until she could manage to crawl out. Little did she know she was being hunted, by more than one interested party. She lay in the freezing water for days, shivering in and out of consciousness. Her mind was broken and fragmented, when she came to consciousness she couldn't remember…..anything. Not her name, not her family, not why she was so injured. Trying to think was exhausting and so she would collapse all over again.
She was passed out when he found her, the enormous beast they called the Hound, he couldn't believe his eyes when he saw her. A bloodied mess crumpled on the bank of the creek, still alive but barely. She groaned a little as he hoisted her over his shoulder, but she passed out again from the pain of being moved. The Hound stomped through the forest, Aryas hair swaying as he walked, and small drips of blood splashing onto rocks and the dirt as he went. A small trail from the creek to his horse was left on the ground, he flung her over his horse and muttered to himself as he strapped her on tightly.
He looked at her face closely, before he swung up onto the horse.
"How the fuck are you going to survive this trip? You're half dead already. Fuck Cersei Lannister"
He spat on the ground in anger and swung into his horse, spinning it around and galloping away to Kings Landing.
Hours later, a group of three scoured the creek. They too sought to find Arya, but found nothing. The men each shook their head to the leader who waited in the shadows, inside they all grimaced, they were too late. She'd either been found by the Starks or she was dead, and both options were bad for them.
"What do we do?" hissed the youngest, "if we return with nothing Lord Bolton will flay us all"
The others were silent.
"I'm not going back," he stammered defiantly.
"He will find you, it's not worth it. If you run it'll be worse"
"We have to stay on the hunt," decided the leader, "we can't leave until we know what happened"
"What if Cerseis men got her first?"
"Then we are dead, we should've been here first. We know the terrain," said the second Bolton guard.
"We keep searching," decided the leader, "you two keep looking along the bank, I'll move further down. There has to be something belonging to Arya Stark here"
The Bolton guards fanned out, and continued searching. They weren't aware though that they were being watched, a pair of yellow eyes watched them from under the scrub and when they were out of sight the wolf emerged from the scrub. Nose to the ground, it followed the trail that led it to this spot. The wolf found the blood, and followed the trail smelling man, horse and Arya. Without a word the wolf took off at a run, in search of the one who had Arya.
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The sun rose at Winterfell to the sound of cawing ravens, thousands sung in unison so loudly the servants in the castle stopped to stare in wonder. An army of dark wings had descended upon the castle, perched along the battlements and in the branches of all the trees. They cawed incessantly, at what nobody knew, most took it for a dark omen and stared ominously at them as they scurried about on their duties. Ned stared in wonder as he returned from his morning prayers, Catelyn walked by his side eyes red rimmed as she cried incessantly for her lost children. Without warning the gates to Winterfell opened suddenly and a group of wolves emerged through the morning mist their breaths forming plumes in front of them as they trotted forward, dragging something in a makeshift harness. Ned watched with his mouth open, unsure what was happening but the ravens had finally quietened. The only sound was the dragging of something and the puffing of the wolves as they exerted themselves coming to a stop in the middle of the yard. Following the wolf pack was a person silhouetted against the weak morning light. Ned rushed forward as he saw who was being dragged by the wolves, Bran.
"Cat!" was all Ned could muster as he threw himself by Brans side crying and kissing his forehead tears streaming down his face.
After several minutes of fawning over Bran who lay unconscious Ned glanced up at the figure standing over them.
"Who are you?" he questioned, his voice slightly shaken with emotion.
The stranger removed his hood and locked eyes with Ned.
"My name is Jojen Lord Stark," to which Neds face dropped, he stood slowly as the boy and Ned spoke at the same time, "Jojen Reed"
Ned drew Jojen into a fierce embrace muttering his gratitude to Jojen while Catelyn looked on with tears of joy, happiness and anguish streaming down her face.
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The candles flickered almost in unison around the room as Bran lay in the centre of the room, clinging to life after infection had set in. Maester Lewin grimly tended his wounds, wiping the ugly festering gashes along his body. The broken bones had been set as best as possible, his legs were broken and bloody, having been put in splints and covered to save Catelyn from worry. In the corner of the room sat Ned and Catelyn accompanied by Jojen. Ned refilled his cup constantly, yet no matter how much he consumed he couldn't dull the ache he felt in his heart. He knew this was the beginning of something sinister, but what it meant for his family he didn't know. Inside he felt restless, and exposed, two sensations that were not welcome.
"How did you find Bran?" question Catelyn quietly, her voice barely a whisper from crying and agonising for days on end.
Jojen met her reddened eyes and noticed her hand clenched around a cup but was untouched. He sighed slightly wondering how he was to convey the story.
"I'm not sure what you know of my people my Lady, but we also possess gifts from the Old Gods. Strange magic, some of which we don't even understand. I have the gift of prophecy, I walk in my dreams and that is how I found Bran. Well, not alone of course," he smiled and laid a hand on the side of Lyarra's face, "this lady helped bring me to the place he was found"
Ned raised his eyebrows, "Lyarra helped you?"
He didn't know whether to feel pleased or jealous, why hadn't she come to him?
Jojen read Ned's expression, "Lyarra came to me because I can harness a power that is awakening in the whole land. That is the only reason she came to find me," he pointed towards himself spreading his hand across his chest. He continued speaking, "My Lord, do you understand what is happening?"
Ned smiled and grimaced before speaking, "I feel many things young man, the grumblings of war and betrayal on my doorstep, and the stirring of something else I don't understand"
Jojen leaned forward, "Powers which laid dormant thought gone forever have been awakened, and are beginning to rise. Powers which will be harnessed, by your family"
Ned let the words wash over him for a moment, he took a long sip of his drink and grimaced from the burn in his throat.
"At what cost though son? I've lost two of my children, been attacked in my home, I've got traitors and enemies within my own walls…."
Jojen abruptly cut in, "The brightest stones are formed under the most intense pressure my Lord…."
But Ned retorted heatedly, "I'm not a bloody stone!"
Catelyn placed a calm hand on her husband and he dropped his head, the time since losing Bran and Arya beginning to catch up to him.
"Jojen, what of Arya? She was out riding with Bran. Was there any sign of her?"
Jojens gaze flicked to Catelyn and reluctantly he nodded, "She was on the same ledge I found Bran, but when I got there she was gone"
Catelyn leaned forward, "what do you mean gone?"
Jojen shifted uncomfortably and Ned said with a tone of warning, "Tell us everything Jojen, where is Arya?"
Again he looked up and met the burning gazes of Ned and Catelyn, "She's alive," he started slowly, "but she fell, or was pushed from the ledge. I can feel her now, she's alive but she's far away. Like she's been…..taken"
Catelyn shuddered into sobs as she broke down, pushed? Taken? What was happening? This nightmare just wouldn't end.
Ned consoled Catelyn as she sobbed into his shoulder, he lifted his gaze to Jojen.
"Who pushed my children off a cliff?" his teeth were gritted and he couldn't contain his anger.
Jojen indicated Bran, "Only he can tell you that I'm afraid, it's not my place to speak on this when I wasn't present"
"But you know who did it?" pressed Catelyn, fresh tears rolling down her face.
Jojen cringed, "I believe so, but I wouldn't dare speak names until Bran can confirm it. To do so would be my death, and if I'm wrong many will die unnecessarily"
Catelyn looked to Ned for where to go next, as angry as he was he wanted the truth too.
"We will wait for Bran then"
"Maester," spoke Catelyn pleadingly, "when can we wake him?"
Still tending the wounds and trying to stem the infection coursing through Bran, Maester Lewin looked grim.
"If he survives the next three days he will be out of the worst of it, until then I'm afraid I must keep him in induced sleep. But my Lady please I must warn you the injuries he sustained…." His voice broke slightly as emotion welled up in his chest, "Bran may not regain use of his legs, the wounds are…..devastating"
"I don't care if he can't walk, save his life" returned Catelyn as she stood and crossed the room. Agony filled her entire being as she gazed at her child lying wounded and broken in his bed. Smoothing back his hair she whispered in his ear inaudibly before kissing him between his eyes.
"Come back to me my son" she whispered as she walked from the room tears streaming down her face.
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Ned watched the candles flickering over the stone statue of his lost sister, his mind was whirring at a million miles an hour as he wondered where she was. Slowly he ran his hand down her stone face and closed his eyes seeing her face in his mind.
'Lyanna I need you now'
He spoke the words in his mind as a tear spilled from under his lashes and splashed on the stone at his feet. The words echoed and reverberated around his mind before he was interrupted by the scraping of footsteps approaching.
Clearing his throat and stepping back Ned hastily turned and lit candles for his father and brother. Placing them just at the moment Robert emerged into the light. He glanced at Lyannas statue before continuing on to stand by Ned.
"This seems to be the only place I can actually speak to you where you cant run from me, or hide behind your banner men" he said in a serious tone.
"That's because I don't have anything to say to you Robert," returned Ned, harsher than he intended.
Robert exhaled loudly. "I know Ned, it'll never be as it was. I can't take back what I did, but that doesn't take away from the truth of the situation. I need someone I can trust as my Hand, someone who isn't tainted by that place and who can't be tainted by it. You're the only person I know who fits that," said Robert, almost pleading with Ned.
Ned had turned away when he began talking but now he whirled back around.
"You would ask me to leave my home and my lands when I've just lost two of my children and been attacked while we sleep? If I leave my lands will be torn apart by war and famine, right before winter is to come? Are you mad?"
Robert had nothing to respond with, he knew he was asking a lot of Ned but he was King and had the right to ask.
"My answer is no Robert, for many reasons"
"Many reasons? What else are you stewing on?" replied Robert losing his patience.
"I will not set foot in that city of yours Robert, its full of spies and traitors. And while she's"Ned caught himself as he was about to speak treason and stopped.
"I will not be able to maintain the office of the Hand of the King I'm afraid" finished Ned abruptly.
Robert suspicious stepped forward, "who were you talking about Ned? A woman, you said she. Who?"
"I'm not discussing this"
Robert shoved Ned roughly, "Honourable Ned Stark, ordered the death of thousands by beheading but won't speak to his friend the King?"
Ned became incensed but clenched his mouth in determination, refusing to speak. Robert made a sound of impatience and went to walk away, but only made it a few short paces before he came back angrily and swung at Ned. His fist connected and a spray of blood splattered across Lyannas statue face. Ned recovered and went on the attack, targeting Roberts former injuries and knocking the wind from him with a kick to the gut. Robert reeled and spun around, running at Ned and tackling him to the ground. The pair traded punches to the face until blood spattered the walls beside them in sickening patterns. Robert grabbed Ned's collar, blood dripping from his mouth and screamed at Ned.
"Tell me! Tell me what secret you're hiding from me!! Tell me!!"
He shook Ned so hard it seemed he might snap his neck. He glared into Ned's cold grey stare, his blue eyes furious and wild from the Adrenalin of the fight.
Ned exhaled raggedly, his face a bloody mess and one eye swollen shut.
"Ned….." huffed Robert, "tell me. Whatever it is I can take it, you're the only one I've ever trusted"
Ned was hesitant, "it's Cersei, she plotting to kill you Robert. She wants the throne for herself, I can see it"
For a moment Robert thought this was a joke, he began laughing so hard he coughed from what felt like a broken rib radiating pain in his side. Robert rolled off Ned and lay laughing on the ground, "That bloody woman? I think you've spent too long in the snows Ned. Cersei does what daddy says, and Tywin wants me alive. She will never step out of line. I thought you'd have something better to tell me as the last words we say to each other. Besides," he said with scorn, "wars have been fought before to stop a woman sitting that throne the realm would never accept it"
Robert rolled onto his side and stood painfully, spitting on the ground beside Ned as he limped away in the darkness.
Ned propped himself up painfully on his side, and heard Robert leaving the crypt.
Before he was out of earshot he shouted the last words he would speak to his former friend, "The seed is strong Robert, watch yourself in that castle"
Ned grimaced in pain and passed out under Lyannas statue as Robert hastily limped out of the crypt.
Many hours later a figure ran down the crypt with a blaring torch in hand, and found Ned passed out under the statue. Ned couldn't make out anything just the light from the torch, and a strong arm underneath him. He saw it was Jory Cassel when he was heaved back up into the light and gratefully nodded to him as his men carried him up to bed. Catelyn paced in their bedroom as the men brought Ned in, gasping in shock as she saw the injuries he sustained.
"Ned….who did this to you?" she whispered as she examined his face.
"The King," was all Ned could reply.
"Well that explains his injuries as well," spoke the matter of fact voice of Maester Lewin from across the room, "and his sudden departure. The King and his retinue have finally left us, and not with a friendly exit either. There is no good blood between the North and the Crown now, is there my Lord?"
Ned slowly and painfully shook his head, "None Maester, fuck the King"
Catelyn and Maester Lewin exchanged a charged looked above Ned's wounded body as he passed out again as the fire crackled and hissed in the fireplace across from him. Nobody saw the face which lingered in the flames before quickly retreating, hearing the words that were spoken and satisfied with what they had heard, going to report on what they'd seen.