(a/n: Well, here you go! Sorry for the looong wait. Enjoy!)
Part 5: Mountain of Madness
The sky over the Giant's Tooth was a dull grey. The clouds sagged heavily with morning rain and the sun illuminated the darkened sky. The moderate sized castle sprouted out of the grey stone of the mountain, which allowed it to over look the town and the long, twisted river a short distance below.
The castle, although not very large like the Red Keep or as ancient as Winterfell, Giant's Tooth was as strong and proud as them both. The old seat of House Wayne received its name from the mountain that it sits under. The mountain rose above the old castle and town, growing narrower until it comes to a point, giving the impression of a lost tooth of a giant creature.
The town they overlooked was a modest fishing village that subsisted on fishing and trade that came from the Blue Spear, which was a small tributary of the Trident River. A cool wind swept through the town, across the river and went skirling up to the Giant's Tooth, where an old man with hard, stony features was scanning the horizon from his balcony.
The old man shivered and drew his cloak around him tightly. For weeks now the long, warm days were waning and were slowly being replaced by shorter, cooler days with longer and even colder nights. Having lived many years in the north, the old man knew what everyone in the North has known for a few weeks now.
Summer is ending and a cold autumn approaching and with it will come an even colder winter.
The old man smiled a little and the words of House Stark came to mind. Winter is coming. Such a simple phrase but it carried a deeper meaning and it always rang true: The fair golden days of summer never last and the people of Westeros need to be ready for the approaching cold.
The words of House Wayne may not be as old or as impressive as House Stark's, but they are equally important for all children of House Wayne to remember as they grow older: Honor, Strength, Sacrifice.
The man's mind drifted to the current situation at hand. Jon Arryn, the old Hand of the King, is dead and there is tales of a pale lunatic gallivanting around Westeros and slaughtering the innocent. The maester was old and has seen wars, diseases and all sorts of madness that ravaged the continent but something deep in his bones told him that something terrible was coming; something worse than anything the Seven Kingdoms has ever endured before.
Gazing at the stars the previous night didn't help either, not with the odd alignment that reminded him of something he read about years ago when he was at the Citadel.
"Maester Arkham?" said a young girl, tugging on his cloak.
The old man turned his head and saw a very young girl with blood-red hair standing there with an old doll in the crook of her arm.
"Yes?"
"Have you seen Jason?" asked young Katherine.
A warm smile appeared on the maester's craggy face "Not recently I'm afraid. Have you asked Alfred?"
"Yes, but he hasn't seen him either" replied the girl, pouting "Jason was suppose to play with me today but I can't find him."
"I'm sure he'll turn up soon." assured the old man. The small girl pouted and she folded her arms. Maester Arkham's smile widened a little.
Katherine, the youngest child of House Wayne, was very much like her mother, unlike her siblings. Katherine had her mother's hair, her eyes and even her manners at times, while her siblings took after their father. Her brothers and sister wanted to learn how to fight and how to ride, Katherine wanted to be a proper lady much like her dearly departed mother.
"Has my father returned?" asked the girl.
Maester Arkham shook his head "I'm afraid not. He has sent word that he still has business to attend to in the south."
Katherine frowned and let out a little groan. "However…" continued the old man "He has said that he is bringing gifts with him."
"Gifts?"
"Yes, plenty of gifts from the south." The little girl's expression brightened and she grinned with excitement.
"Would you like to see a white raven? It just arrived today from the Citadel." asked the old maester. Katherine nodded and the old man took her by the hand and led her back inside and out of the chilly air.
Jon and Sam stood before the heart tree in complete silence. Two senior brothers of the watch accompanied the two younger members so that they may keep watch of the new initiates as they take their vows. Jon couldn't believe this day has come. The young bastard had spent the last few weeks going through grueling training drills, exhausting labor and suffering through the sharp words of the master-at-arms, Ser Alliser Thorne.
But today was the day that both he and Sam would make their vows and they would finally be recognized as full brothers of the Watch.
Jon glanced around and wondered where Ghost went but he remembered that his white direwolf had snuck off to do some hunting when they arrived.
"Hurry up and get on with it" growled one of the men accompanying them "I don't want to lose my toes."
"Don't listen to him" said the other man "Take your time lads." The man noticed the death glare he was getting from his friend and frowned "What's wrong Mick? It's a beautiful morning, so cheer up! And we get to witness the induction of two new brothers into the Watch!"
"Shut it Leonard!" grunted the first man "You know I hate the cold"
"Not my fault that you have such poor luck. If fortune had been kinder, you would've stayed on that merchant vessel bound for the Jade Sea"
"Bah!"
Jon tried his best to not smile. The two men, Leonard and Mick, were always good company. Ever since he arrived at the Wall, Jon was treated as if he were the bratty son of a highborn lord. Ser Alliser and some of the others gave him grief about his father being Eddard Stark, calling him "Lord Snow" but Leonard and Mick were different.
They treated him like they would with everyone else. They, like Sam, treated him like a brother and after a bit of time and a bit of humility on Jon's part, others started treating him as they did, except Ser Alliser.
The two men were a mystery to Jon at first. When he first arrived, Jon had mistaken them for willing volunteers, knights who willingly took the black to protect the Wall. From the way they acted and the way others showed them respect, it seemed very likely, but Jon was surprised to learn that the two were in fact criminals.
From what both he and Sam could piece together, Leonard and Mick were notorious thieves. Leonard was very forthcoming in sharing his story but Mick remained silent when questioned. No matter how much anyone prodded, the large man would not divulge what he had done and how he had gotten the numerous burns on his neck and arms.
Whatever he did in the past was the past now. All that mattered was that the two were men of the Night's Watch.
Jon glanced around the snow-blanketed forest. For thousands of miles and among the thousands of towering trees around them there was nothing but silence and snow. A pang of loneliness and longing hit Jon's heart.
He missed Winterfell, he missed Arya, Robb and the others. The young bastard wanted to go home and be with his brothers and sisters but he knew he couldn't go back. Not now, not ever. Fortunately for Jon, he will have a new family. The two decided to make their vows before a heart tree, instead of a sept, but because Castle Black didn't have a godswood, the two had to journey out beyond the Wall to a grove ancient weirwood trees to do so. Fortunately, the Lord Commander sent Mick and Leonard to accompany them.
Jon nodded to Sam and the two took a deep breath and recited the oaths of the Night's Watch. "Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers, the shield that guards the realms of men. I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch, for this night and all the nights to come!"
Silence fell and swallowed up their words. For a moment, the two young initiates stood in silence, staring at the eerie face on the heart tree, as if expecting a response.
Finally, after a long stretch of silence, Leonard walked over and clapped the two new brothers of the Watch on the shoulders, grinning "Welcome to the Night's Watch lads!"
"Yes, hooray…" grumbled Mick, drawing his fur cloak tightly around him. Jon smiled and Sam looked ecstatic.
Leonard motioned for his new brothers to follow "Come, let us go and celebrate your new postings!"
"No need for that" said Sam, bashfully "We're just stewards."
"Aye but stewards to Maester Aemon and the Lord Commander!" replied Mick, with a grin "And you know what that means?"
"What?" asked Jon.
"It means that we have an in!" answered Leonard.
Jon and Sam gave the two older men confused looks. "He means that you will soon be in positions of power," explained Mick "Sam has Maester Aemon's ear and Jon could very well be Lord Commander one day."
"That will never happen" scoffed Jon.
Mick and Leonard shook their heads. "In the Night's Watch, the Lord Commander's Steward is usually groomed to be his successor" said Leonard "It has happened a number of time's in the history of the Watch."
"Just you wait," said Mick "Very soon, we will all be calling you Lord Commander Snow". Sam chuckled and Jon felt a sense of dread at that idea. Before Jon could speak and change the subject, he noticed something.
The new member of the Watch saw his direwolf appear from behind a nearby weirwood tree, sniffing around its base. Jon frowned a little. Sam and the others noticed the look on his face and followed his gaze. The four saw Ghost stop beneath the face of the weirwood tree he was sniffing. The wolf backed away and let out a low growl, the fur on his back rising.
The four brothers of the Night's Watch looked on in interest as Ghost begin pawing at the snow at the base of the tree. Small clumps of snow fell away, revealing a bit of black clothing. Jon and the others shared a shocked look and rushed over. Ghost got out of their way as Jon, Sam, Mick and Leonard dug away the at the snow, until they found something that made their blood run cold.
"By the Gods" breathed Sam in shock.
"Son of a…" murmured Mick.
The four men of the Watch gazed down at the body of a friend and brother of the Watch lying half buried in the snow.
That man was a well-known ranger named Victor.
Jon remembered Victor. He was a rather quiet and solitary man. He didn't interact that much with others in the Watch, except for maybe Mick and Leonard. Although he was quiet and kept to himself, Jon knew that Victor was a well-respected man. It was probably why he was selected to go ranging with Jon's uncle, Benjen Stark. Sam stared at Victor's pale, motionless form in horror.
Jon figured that it was Sam's first time seeing a dead man. Then again, this was also the first time Jon has ever seen a dead man. Mick and Leonard inspected Victor's body. "Looks like he was pierced with a blade of sorts right here" observed Leonard, pointing toward the hole in Victor's tunic and the huge dark bloodstain that surrounded it. "Here too" added Mick, pointing towards the hole in Victor's tunic where his heart was.
"Probably ambushed by wildlings" murmured Leonard. Mick nodded in agreement.
Ghost trotted away from Victor's body and stopped a short distance away. Mick trudged over and sifted through the snow. He stopped and glanced over his shoulder "Two more bodies"
"Seven hells…" cursed Leonard, scratching his chin.
"He was with my uncle Benjen" said Jon, emotionless. A cold sense of dread crawled its way up from the pit of Jon's stomach. Thoughts of Uncle Benjen lying dead in some barren, icy field began to flood the young man's mind but he quickly pushed them aside.
Leonard nodded "Indeed he was but Benjen is a very skilled ranger, he can handle himself. I'm sure he's fine." Jon nodded but he didn't believe Leonard, and judging from the look in the thief's eye, neither did he. Leonard turned to go and assist Mick but he stopped when Sam spoke up.
"Uh…Jon, Leonard… i-it's V-Victor h-he's…" Leonard and Jon looked and they both looked astonished. Victor's body shifted a little and his eyes fluttered open, slowly breaking off the frost and ice that covered his eyes. Icy blue eyes greeted the four crows and looked about in confusion.
"By the gods…" murmured Leonard. He rushed over to Victor and knelt down.
Victor groaned and forced himself up a little. He looked around at the four black brothers who were staring down at him in shock "L-Leonard? W-where…" he paused then he heaved out a few more words "Leonard…they…they are coming. They're coming…" Without warning, Victor's eyes closed and he fell over, unconscious.
For a moment, nobody said a word. Needless to say, all four crows were confused at what just happened but they all felt a terrible pall descend upon the silent forest.
Catelyn Stark stood alone in the throne room, gazing out a window as pale morning light filtered through the clouds, illuminating the cold insides of the Eyrie. The ancient seat of House Arryn was perched upon a staggeringly high mountain peak that commanded a majestic view of the Vale below. Patches of farmsteads, glistening ribbons of water and stretches of forest spread out as far as Catelyn could see.
It was strange. The Vale was calm and peaceful, protected by the powerful natural mountain range which surrounds them, and the Bloody Gate, which repelled many an invasion. Yet, just beyond the safety and security of the Vale there was something stirring, Catelyn could feel it. Something awful was brewing and she was stumbling blindly through it.
The beginning of their troubles was the strange death of Jon Arryn, former Hand of the King and Lord of the Vale, then there was the bizarre message from Lysa, Catelyn's sister, accusing the Lannister's of treachery and lastly was the attempt on Bran's life at Winterfell. The more Lady Stark thought about it, nothing seemed to make sense. At first it seemed like Jon died of natural causes for a man of his age.
However, after the attempt on her son's life, Catelyn decided to take her sister's warning more seriously. With the dragon bone hilt dagger that the would-be assassin tried to use on Bran, Catelyn searched for answers and was directed towards the owner of the dagger: Tyrion Lannister.
The gods seemed to have smiled upon her, for as she journeyed back to Winterfell, she discovered him at an inn that she was to spend the night in. They noticed each other and she called upon the men there who had sworn oaths to serve both the Starks and Tullys and seized the impish Lannister. At that moment, Catelyn was sure that she caught the mastermind behind her son's assassination attempt but now she's not so sure.
The journey through the Mountains of the Moon was rigorous and some men of the tribes living in the mountains had ambushed them. Several good men died and they slain a number of their attackers. It was a harrowing ordeal, but what truly shook Catelyn was the fact that Tyrion Lannister, her prisoner, saved her life. They arrived at the Eyrie late a few nights ago, after a long and arduous climb up the mountain to reach the castle.
Catelyn's escort was given food and some rooms to rest in, while Tyrion was confined to one of the Eyrie's infamous sky cells.
When they arrived, Catelyn expected a warm reception and some cooperation; instead she was met with suspicious looks and some hostility. Lysa greeted her in the solar with some of her house guards when she arrived but once the guards were dismissed, the warmth and civility vanished and Lysa demanded to know why her sister had come unannounced and with one of her enemies. Catelyn tried her best to explain but her sister seemed to not heed her words.
It struck the older Tully how much her sister had changed. Although Lysa was her younger sister, the once young and smiling girl now looked twice her age and drained of happiness and vitality. Catelyn tried to plead her case. Instead, the younger Tully silenced her at every turn and rambled about how she miraculously escaped King's Landing and managed to keep her precious child out of the vile Lannister's reach.
Catelyn could do nothing but listen to her little sister and her ramblings. She occasionally added some words but still, nothing seemed to be working. However, something strange came up. Among the rapid near mad stream of words that escaped her sister's mouth, Catelyn heard Lysa say "-and that horrid phantom haunts me still"
Catelyn looked up at her sister "What?" Lysa stopped and she hesitated to speak for a few moments.
Finally, the younger Tully barked a command and a taller, slender young man in grey robes entered the solar. Lysa introduced the young man as Maester Crane and that he would show Catelyn where she will be spending the night. Catelyn was surprised to see a young maester, especially one who looked old enough to be her son. Stranger still, the young man looked familiar.
Without another word, Lysa departed and Catelyn was left alone with the young maester. The young maester led her to her room and Catelyn, overcome with exhaustion and frustration, fell fast asleep.
The next morning was just as successful as the night before.
Lysa refused to listen to reason and ended their meeting early and scurried off and wasn't seen since. This morning, Lysa seemed to have her mind fixated on exacting horrible revenge against the imp without even getting the truth from him about what happened to Jon Arryn or Bran. During the meeting, the young maester stood in the shadows behind the throne watching carefully and only spoke when allowed.
From their brief encounters, Catelyn was able to judge that Maester Crane was certainly worthy of the title of maester. The young man's speech was soft, measured and precise like a scholar. The maester chain around his neck was similar to Maester Luwin's, although it was shorter by a few links and there were a few links that Catelyn wasn't familiar with. One of the links in particular was made of a metal that was dark, dull and looked like petrified smoke. She tried to question him directly and get some answers but Lysa blocked Catelyn at every pass.
However, once Lysa had dismissed their last meeting and scurried off, Catelyn managed to speak with Maester Crane and arrange for them to speak alone in the throne room the next morning.
Footsteps shook Catelyn free of her reverie. She looked and saw Maester Crane walk into the throne room. The young man was still dressed in flowing grey robes. His raven black hair was ruffled and his pale face remained placid like an undisturbed lake.
Catelyn greeted the young man "Thank you for meeting with me."
"It is a pleasure to meet you Lady Stark," replied the young maester "I hope you are enjoying your stay here in the Eyrie."
"I am, though I had hoped the reception would be a little warmer".
The young maester nodded slowly "Indeed. When we received word from the Bloody Gate of your arrival, I had hoped Lady Lysa would be overjoyed to see you. But alas, it seems this dreary gloom has only deepened."
Catelyn frowned "Gloom?"
"Yes. A terrible gloom has fallen upon the Eyrie and upon Lady Lysa. Ever since Lord Arryn's passing and Lady Lysa's escape from King's Landing, she hasn't been the same." Catelyn nodded in agreement. Lysa had once smiled more freely and would've welcomed her with open arms but now; it was as if she was a complete stranger.
"Why is she like this? What could've changed my sister in such a way?" asked Catelyn.
Maester Crane frowned a little "From what I have seen, the death of her dear husband would be a central cause. Her lord husband loved her and she him. His death came as a horrible blow to everyone, Lady Lysa included. The issue with the Lannisters has only made it worse."
"Issue?"
"Yes. May I speak freely, my lady?"
Catelyn nodded.
"Lord Arryn felt that his wife was a little too…smothering" explained the maester "In order for the boy to learn the ways of court and to strengthen relationships with a major house, he felt that he should become a ward. To whom I believe it was Lord Tywin Lannister."
Catelyn raised an eyebrow "I see"
"Lady Lysa eventually acquiesced. However it never came to fruition, what with Lord Arryn's sudden passing."
Catelyn nodded slowly, absorbing this information. So Jon Arryn and Lysa were going to send their son to be a ward in the west with the Lannisters. It was an intelligent move. Their meek little boy would help mend some frayed relations between the Iron Throne and the wealthy house and it could do the boy some good to be children close to his age.
Catelyn couldn't blame her sister at being hesitant. She didn't trust the Lannisters that much either. The golden lions were the ones who took King's Landing through treachery and through said treachery slain the Mad King. Catelyn remembered the reason why she came to the Vale and asked the maester.
"Do you know who may have murdered Jon Arryn? My sister sent me a message and accused the Lannisters."
Maester Crane scratched his chin "I am afraid that I don't know. I was here in the Eyrie attending to some matters that required my care. I was to join Lady Lysa and her husband but by the time I had completed my required duties, Lady Lysa returned and was in an uproar."
Catelyn frowned deeply. No such luck. She had hoped that the young maester would have some answers but it appeared that he didn't.
However, Maester Crane continued "However, I did receive a few peculiar letters from Lord Arryn before his untimely death."
"You did?" Catelyn felt a bit of hope rising within her.
The young maester nodded "Lord Arryn had asked for my counsel on a few items that he was researching, which was an old legend that I am not very familiar with."
"What legend?"
"A legend pertaining to a figure from the Age of Heroes. I believe it was in the Blood Crown Cycles or some other obscure tome. The figure was called 'The Kingmaker' or some such name".
Catelyn frowned. The Kingmaker. That name sounded familiar. Catelyn grew up listening to her mother tell her numerous old stories and hearing songs of great battles and heroes from Lysa. This one she didn't remember very well. It was like trying to remember a half forgotten dream.
"I am not very well versed with tales but I did what I could and responded to the few ravens he sent to me" explained Maester Crane "After a few weeks of correspondence, the ravens just stopped. His last raven to me bore a rather brief thanks and some odd words"
"What were they?"
The young maester thought for a few moments then said in a soft and ominous voice "I have found it. It has been before our eyes the whole time. Should I fall, remember this...the seed is strong."
An eerie silence fell on them. Catelyn felt an odd chill crawl up her spine. Those words are indeed odd but they were Jon Arryn's last words. The seed was strong? What could that possibly mean? Catelyn had questions before but now she was filled with even more of them.
"What could he possibly mean by that? The seed is strong?" Catelyn wondered aloud.
Maester Crane shrugged "I don't know. Lady Lysa believes that it was referring to her son and his health. However…" the young man trailed off and fell silent.
Catelyn gave him a look. "However?" tried Lady Stark.
The young maester hesitated for a moment then said finished his sentence "However, I believe that is not the case. I believe that Lord Arryn was referring to something else."
"What could he be referring to?" Maester Crane shrugged again.
Catelyn sighed. She was hoping for more, but it she was relieved that there was someone else who believed that Jon Arryn's death was strange. A thought came to her mind. "Maester Crane, my sister mentioned something about a phantom."
Maester Crane visibly winced and he let out a small sigh. "Yes, the phantom…I was wondering when you would mention it." He stopped and considered his words carefully then spoke, "You sister, Lady Lysa…I fear for her. Ever since Lord Arryn's death, she hasn't been the same."
"I suppose it may be the gloom as you mentioned".
The maester shook his head "It's not just the gloom." Catelyn gave him a look "Oh?"
"Aye. Gloom is a rather gentle name for it. I'm afraid that there's something else that is affecting poor Lady Lysa. I know grief when I see it and this is not it, my lady. If I were to be completely honest with my observation, I would have to say that she is…afraid. Something has made her afraid and it is twisting her up inside. Whatever it is, this fear is manifesting itself in the form of a terrible shade."
Catelyn frowned deeply. Fear. What could Lysa be afraid of? Could it be the murderers who killed her husband? "How do you know of these things?"
"Lady Lysa has terrible night terrors. For the past week she's been having horrid nightmares and has demanded that I give her a sleeping draught. It has helped but every other night the nightmares would return and she awakes screaming."
Catelyn was taken aback. That sounded dreadful. Lysa was never like this. If Maester Crane was truthful, than Lysa was certainly being plagued by something. "These nightmares, what are they about?" asked Catelyn.
"Lannisters, every night it is an army of Lannisters or some hired knives in the service of the Lannisters invading the castle and killing her in her bed. The most recent one was of a...scarecrow."
Catelyn was intrigued and a little disturbed. Lysa was certainly disturbed about something and the Lannisters seem to be at the center of the problem. It seemed likely that the Lannisters may be the root of all this murder and intrigue. But the last nightmare, a scarecrow? What could that mean?
It was then that Catelyn began to notice how haggard the young man looked. The young maester's face looked unnaturally pale and she could see dark circles under his eyes.
"By the seven" murmured Catelyn, astonished.
Maester Crane nodded slowly "I tried to assuage her fears but she refuses to see reason. The household guard has been doubled and her room is guarded night and day by several of her best men and yet she still is as comfortable as a hunted rabbit. The other lords of the Vale have only made the problem worse. All of them offered their services, or the services of their sons, to serve as her guards to catch these shadowy assassins and hopefully impress her. This phantom business was merely a trick of some shadows and a poor startled serving boy who ended up tumbling off a balcony and to his death".
Catelyn's eyes widened in shock "Oh my…" "It is madness, absolute madness. She is-" The maester stopped and he realized what he had said and what he was about to say. He made a bow "Forgive me, Lady Catelyn, I spoke out of turn. I-I forgot my place."
"No, it is alright" said Catelyn, sincerely "I thank you for your honesty. I am glad to finally have someone speak truthfully. As of late, no matter where I turn, I find nothing but questions, riddles and deceit".
A faint smile tugged at the young man's lips. "I am sorry if I haven't been of much help. But I swear to you, my lady, if there is anything you need of me you need only ask."
"Thank you, Maester Crane". Catelyn paused "Crane? That name is familiar to me. Where are you from, maester?"
"Normally maesters don't discuss such matters. But, since you are the first bit of civilized company I have had in many months, it pleases me to tell you my lady that I was born and raised in the North, though my ancestors and my distant cousins are of Highgarden."
"Do you have any relations to a Ser Stephen Crane of the Blue Spear?"
The young maester's chest puffed up a little "My father, an honorable knight and a sworn sword of Lord Wayne".
Of course! Catelyn now remembers the Cranes. Stephen Crane was a knight who served under Lord Thomas Wayne, a bannerman of her husband. Stephen was a thin, pale man who always had a calm look on his face. He was a skilled swordsman but he fell in battle during Robert's Rebellion. She can easily see the resemblance between the young man and his father.
"It is an honor to meet the son of a renowned knight," said Catelyn "Your father saved my husband's life during Robert's Rebellion."
"Indeed" said Maester Crane, his face glowing with pride "It is an honor to meet you as well Lady Catelyn." Catelyn smiled and she suddenly remembered the dagger.
"Maester Crane, I have a question concerning weapons". She drew the dagger and held it out in front of the young maester "What can you tell me of this weapon. It belonged to the Lannister imp. He tried to murder my son with it."
Maester Crane looked at the dagger and his eyebrows rose a little. "A pretty weapon" he murmured. He accepted the dagger and he inspected it closely. After a few moments, he handed the weapon back to Catelyn.
"I am not sure what I can tell you" said Maester Crane "Other than that the dagger is made of a fine piece of Valyrian Steel and dragon bone, I have not an inkling of who would have owned it."
"I need to know if this weapon belongs to Tyrion Lannister" said Catelyn "And why he sent an assassin after my son."
Maester Crane cocked an eyebrow "Why indeed. Tyrion Lannister does not strike me as a man who would murder a child"
"He is a Lannister, they are capable of all manner of evil" said Catelyn, bitterly.
"Indeed. I am aware of all the awful things that ghastly House has done in its long history. But of all the things that I know of Tyrion Lannister is that he is very different from his siblings. This reeks of the other two."
Catelyn wanted to correct the young maester but stopped. She slowly began to realize that he might be right. Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer, was notorious for his betrayal of the king he swore to protect and his sister, Cersei, seemed very dangerous to Catelyn as well. Petyr Baelish did confirm that the dagger belonged to a Lannister, Tyrion to be precise. But if the dwarf were the master of the assassin who tried to kill Bran, why would he save her life when the tribesmen of the mountain attacked them on the road. Could his siblings be behind this?
"I can investigate this further" said Maester Crane "There is a maester I know who know's weaponry very well, he may have some answers. I will inform you of what I have discovered. In the meantime, try and enjoy your stay here in the Eyrie."
Catelyn smiled and gave him sincere thanks. He bowed and then departed.
Once he was gone, Catelyn felt alone and soon an odd sensation slowly slithered up her spine. She felt as if that she was not alone and that she was being observed. She shivered and began to see why Lysa was acting strangely. This cold, isolated castle was enough to drive anyone to madness and paranoia.
Catelyn considered what the young maester had told her and began to pity the poor boy. Lysa was twisted by grief and fear, her bannermen were only stoking the flames of hysteria and it would appear that the young man was a lone sane voice on a mountain of madness.
Tyrion sat up when he heard the door open. Mord, the thuggish jailer, stood aside and allowed in a tall, thin young man garbed in maester grey. The young man was carrying in a plate of steaming hot sausages, eggs and a cup of water. Tyrion was surprised to see that they were bringing him food.
Judging from Lady Lysa Arryn's reaction to his appearance, he was almost certain that she was going to let him starve to death in the freezing sky cells.
The maester told Mord to wait by the door. The burly jailer grunted and stepped outside and closed the door. The young man offered the plate to Tyrion and he accepted it. For a few moments, he eyed the food suspiciously and tapped it with the fork gingerly as if to see if the food were alive. Finally, hunger overcame him and he began to down the eggs and sausages.
It had been a few days but it felt much longer to Tyrion. The sky cells were like a normal dungeon cell, only there was a wall missing and in its place was nothing but the cold windy skies of the Vale. Tyrion tried to sleep but the floors were built at a slight angle and if he wasn't careful, he would roll all the way to oblivion.
From his time in the cell, Tyrion found no possible method of escape, except the door and Mord guarded the door with excellent vigilance and would occasionally came in and struck Tyrion a few times with his club.
A maester carrying a plate of food was a welcomed relief to the imprisoned Lannister.
In between mouthfuls, Tyrion asked, "So…whom do I have to thank for this generosity?"
"You have me to thank," said the young man with a warm smile "I am Maester Crane, it is an honor to meet you Tyrion Lannister"
"And it is an honor for me to meet a maester as young as you" replied Tyrion "A young man with a chain like yours must be a quick learner"
"one of the quickest."
Tyrion was indeed surprised. Most maesters he encountered were usually wrinkly old men with long and heavy chains. Seeing a maester this young was a real wonder.
"Tell me, what have I done to deserve such a delicious breakfast?"
The maester continued to smile "Nothing. I thought that even though we may be on opposite sides, we shouldn't cast aside civility and hospitality."
Tyrion nodded slowly "Yes, and you do know what will happen if you do not promptly release me?"
"Oh yes, I certainly do. In fact, your brother and sister are beginning to realize that you have been…waylaid."
"So you will release me and give me a horse and an escort to take me back to the King's road?"
"I'm afraid that I can't do that my lord. That is beyond my abilities. That is for Lady Lysa to decide."
Tyrion fought back the urge to groan. There was little chance at that. Lysa Arryn and her little runt of a son were more than likely to toss him out of through Moon Door than let him go free, unless he confess to a crime he did not do.
Probably noticing the disappointed look on Tyrion's face, Maester Crane continued. "However, I believe I may be of some help"
"Oh and how so?"
"Lady Catelyn wishes to know if you attempted to kill her son."
"I did not try to kill her son!"
"And I believe you."
Tyrion frowned "You do?"
"Yes. I know of all the things that your family has done and I also understand what a man has to do in order to survive these trivial political games but I believe that you did not send that assassin."
Tyrion stared at him in suspicion. Something about this maester seemed strange. He could tell that this young man had something in mind but was doing a good job of hiding it. The dwarf didn't fully trust this young man, in fact he hardly trusts anyone he doesn't know but so far, this boy seemed to be the only intelligent and logical being in the entire Vale. Everyone else was dim and afraid of some shadows, thus making him Tyrion's only hope.
The two sat in the sky cell together for a few long moments. Both were sitting with their backs towards the solid wall and stared out at the vast, blue horizon that stretched out before them. As the two sat there and stared out at the blue beyond, Tyrion thought of a question.
"Why do you believe me?" asked the dwarf "For all you know, I could have sent that assassin after Bran Stark. For all you know, I could've killed Jon Arryn."
Maester Crane smiled at that like he was smiling at a hilarious jape.
Tyrion frowned at him "What?"
"Oh, nothing. It's just, that I know for a fact that you didn't send that hired knife" said the maester calmly "A man as clever as you would not have sent someone to kill an enemy with a weapon that can easily lead anyone with half a brain back to you. It makes no sense for you to kill an innocent crippled boy, at least not without cause."
Tyrion nodded in agreement. The young maester reached down at his chain and held up a certain link for Tyrion to see. The metal was dark, dull and resembled petrified smoke. "This chain is a marker for a rather new field of study" explained Maester Crane "It is something of my own making. I specialize in the study of the mind."
"The mind?" echoed Tyrion, curious.
The young man nodded "Yes. Ever since the Mad King, the mind has been an intricate mystery. What is it that makes a man? What motivates him? What makes men act as they do? How do they go mad and is there a cure? What do men fear? I dedicated my studies at the Citadel to learning what makes a man and…here I am."
Tyrion slowly absorbed what the young man was saying. Studying a man's mind? That sounded very fascinating. If he weren't in this predicament, Tyrion would've ordered some wine and asked to hear more from this young maester but perhaps another time.
"Why are you telling me this?" asked Tyrion.
Maester Crane shrugged "I felt that I was going to tell someone eventually and I thought, why not someone as intelligent as Tyrion Lannister. Anyway, it didn't take me long to put some of the pieces together. You are innocent."
"And I should go free" added Tyrion.
The maester nodded "Yes." Something seemed to have appeared in the young maester's mind because a giddy look appeared on his gaunt face.
"I believe that I have an idea that can be of benefit to both of us," said the young man.
Jon, Sam and Leonard sat together at a bench in the common room at Castle Black, watching Mick carefully.
The day had already changed into night and most of the crows were eating an evening meal. It had been some time until the Old Bear, Lord Commander Jeor Mormont, and a few men from the Wall to arrive and cart the bodies off back to Castle Black.
Once they saw Victor among the dead, a number of men murmured in shock and paid their respects.
Mick tried his best to wake Victor, hoping that he was still alive and Maester Aemon tried to treat the mostly frozen man but it was all in vain. Victor was gone.
Mick stormed off in a silent rage and nobody stopped him. After he had left, Sam noticed that there was something strange about the frozen bodies and it was then that they all realized what it was. First, the bodies didn't smell of rot or anything like a normal corpse. Second, the bodies didn't have anything that indicated that wolves or shadowcats had taken a bite out of them. All the bodies were untouched, except for the stab wounds and strangely enough, the wounds didn't bleed or let out any blood like a normal wound.
The Lord Commander decided to heed Sam's counsel and lock the bodies in a storage room at the bottom of the Lord Commander's tower until the next morning when they will bury the bodies and have the sun at its highest to warm them.
For the rest of the day, Mick was silent and kept to himself until he eventually joined them for dinner. Jon watched as Mick sitting there and staring down at his steaming bowl of broth blankly.
Leonard told Jon and Sam to let Mick be because he was angry about Victor's death. In the past, Victor had saved Mick's life and the burned thief owed him a debt of gratitude. Unfortunately, Mick is now unable to repay his friend's kind act now that he's gone.
As they quietly ate their hot meals, Mick finally spoke. His voice was soft but the tone was sharp enough to cut stone.
"If I ever see a wildling, I will tear their heads off with my bare hands".
Sam looked a little green at the thought of someone having to face a large and furious man like Mick in battle. Jon was about to say something but he suddenly remembered that he had to take the Old Bear's dinner up to him. The new steward scrambled out of his seat and scurried off to accomplish his task.
Leonard, Sam and Mick ate in silence and eventually went off to do their duties; Sam went to tend to Maester Aemon, Leonard had to go man one section of the Wall with few men and Mick went to get some sleep before he took the early morning watch.
Mick walked alone in the dark, silent yard alone. The moon hid behind a wall of thick, grey clouds. Several other brothers walked by, heading off to eat dinner. Though it was a cold and miserable evening, there were some in good spirits and were chattering and laughing about something that Mick didn't care about.
He was not in the mood for anything. He just wanted to get some sleep and get on with life but he stopped when he saw a shape standing in the shade of some scaffolding. The burned thief stopped and faced the shape. He scowled and started walking towards the shape. Every once in a while, there was always some green boy from the south who likes to gawk at him or some idiot who thought he was tough enough to pick a fight with him.
Mick usually gives them a light beating and sends them on their way, but not tonight. Tonight, Mick was angry and he needed something to beat into the ground. Before he reached the figure, the figure stepped from out of the shadows and into the torchlight.
Mick stopped. His eyes widened and he immediately became confused and, for the first time in many years, felt afraid.
"Victor?" whispered Mick in astonishment.
Victor, the fallen ranger, stood there in his ice crusted clothing, looking confused.
"Mick?" said the ranger, looking around at the empty yard "W-what am I doing here? How did I get here?"
Mick shrugged "I-I don't know. You tell me, you were the one who died."
Victor's icy blue eyes seemed to glow in the dark and the torchlight. The ice crusted ranger gave him a strange look "What?"
Suddenly the chiming of bells began to sound, echoing through the night and the smell of fire filled the air. Mick spun around and saw that the Lord Commander's tower was ablaze like a torch. The burned thief's eyebrows rose "This day is full of surprises."
Lysa curled up in bed, drawing her blankets around her tightly in a futile attempt to feel safe and secure. Her servants had tended to her and left her alone. Although there were two guards standing by the door and the corridors patrolled by the rest of the household guards, Lysa still felt naked and unsafe.
The ruler of the Vale always dreaded the night. The morning was safe and the sunlight banished that awful demon. But when the sun had set, the demon always returns without fail. No matter how many guards she had posted, no matter how strong or skilled those men may be, that demon always outwitted them and always slipped through their fingers like smoke.
Lysa pushed her frantic thoughts down and assured herself that she was safe. She had her guards, the walls of the Eyrie, the Houses of the Vale and, most importantly, Maester Crane to protect her. Maester Crane had been a gift from the Seven. House Arryn's old maester had passed away in the night and her husband sent for a new one. The Citadel sent the young man and he had been a great boon for House Arryn. His advice and his draught have helped her through many a crisis. He was trustworthy and reliable.
Lysa turned over and almost drifted off into the arms of sleep when suddenly a sweet, familiar smell filled her senses. Her eyes snapped open. It smelled of blossoms. "Oh no" whimpered the ruler of the Vale.
"oh yes" hissed the demon.
In the corer of her eye, Lysa could see him. Standing at the foot of her bed, slender and inhumanly tall. Garbed in tattered rags and stitched up cloth, the terrible apparition stood there and stared down at her like a vengeful god.
"Please...please" wept Lysa.
"Oh my dear lady, don't cry." soothed the demon "Dry those tears." he glided around the bed and he knelt down by her side. A long, metallic claw reached out and gently brushed away her tear without cutting her cheek. Lysa's body shuddered uncontrollably.
She closed her eyes, hoping and praying that this was just a dream. Her heart raced like a galloping horse that was threatening to burst out of her chest. When she opened her eyes, she was faced with a horrible truth.
This wasn't a dream.
She was staring at the demon's horrible face; old sackcloth covered in all over by stitches with squirming little maggots wriggled through hundreds of little holes and eyes that glowed and blazed like wildfire.
"Now then" said the scarecrow, a dozen maggots and black goo dribbled from his mouth.
His voice soft like silk but it carried a hidden edge that made Lysa flinch "You and I need to have a little talk."
End of Chapter.
(a/n: So, what do you think? Please review! This would've been up faster but i have been very busy lately and didn't have the chance to do this.)
Next time: As Ned Stark investigates what the previous Hand of the King had been investigating, he encounter's an alluring woman named Selina. In Vaes Dothrak, things don't go overly well for Viserys and the Laughing Prince is on the move once again.