Chapter 6
Arya rode on top of the horse with Nysa. Sansa had refused to talk to either of them. Nysa would tell her once they were settled that Lady had been released and was running with Nymeria now. Arya told her that there was no need, Sansa would not believe her. Nysa knew that it would help encourage Sansa though and decided it would be best that Sansa knew the truth.
Arya turned around to face her and smiled. "We're here!" Nysa took a deep breath as they rode into the Capital. Something blinded her eyes for a moment and she was struck with a memory of a woman singing to her.
"Nysa?"
She shook her head and saw her brother looking at her.
"Nysa, are you alright?"
She nodded in response. "Just the immensity of it all."
"It is nothing compared to Winterfell," Arya said quickly as Nysa chuckled and kicked their horse forward.
Looking around, she could not help but think that it was grand like Winterfell but it held so much color here. Nysa thought it just as beautiful as Winterfell but decided to keep that comment reserved for later or perhaps her next letter that she'd write to the North. For a moment, she wondered if she was to stay close to Jory's quarters or if Lord Stark would place her nearer to Sansa and Arya.
"Welcome Lord Stark," a man came out and bowed before Lord Stark. "Grand Maester Pycelle has called a meeting of the small council. Your presence is requested."
Lord Stark turned around to them. "Get the girls settled in," he instructed Septa Mordane. "I'll be back in time for supper. Jory, you go with them."
"Yes, my Lord," her brother answered.
"And Nysa," Lord Stark called her as she was helping Arya down from their horse. "You will come with me."
"My Lord Stark, the meeting is for..."
Lord Stark turned to look at him and the man simply coughed before nodding.
"Why would father ask you to go with him and not your brother," Arya asked.
"Arya," Septa Mordane scolded.
"It is alright," Nysa told her before leading Arya towards the door. "I do not know the answer myself. Perhaps I will be doing something boring as serving wine and water, just as how I did when we were stopped in the Barrowlands. But imagine all the interesting information I am about to learn from merely pouring wine for the small council. Won't this be an interesting tale to tell Jon?"
"It would be," Arya smiled.
"You best go and find a room you like before your sister," Nysa encouraged. It made Arya take off quickly into the tower.
Lord Stark explained things along the way. She would serve the water and wine to the small council - just as she told Arya. Then he stopped the two of them once they had entered another room. "This is the throne room," he stated as the doors closed behind them. "This is where people come to court and stand before the King, much like what happened at the Inn."
"I am sorry, my Lord," she began, "about what happened during..."
He shook his head. "We must be cautious of who we talk to here, do you understand?" She nodded. "You know a sense of justice, honor and mercy that is not known here in the South. Not even among Kings," he added. "The people here advise the King and follow his orders. Some of them, carry out tasks behind his back." She nodded to show she understood. "Not everyone here can be trusted. Not everyone will speak truth, especially here in King's Landing."
"Of course, my Lord," Nysa nodded again.
"Remember the North, remember what Lady Stark and I taught you, remember names and faces and their Houses," he urged. "I brought you here to do more than speak to your Lord Uncle, Nysa."
"What do you mean?"
"Thank the Gods you're here Stark," she heard a voice call from within.
Lord Stark turned to the man before looking at her. "Stay here," he commanded. Nysa nodded and fell back, looking around at the throne room.
She did not think that it would have been this grand. When she wrote her next letter, she would not know how to describe it. The glass windows were beautiful. The designs on the columns were magnificent. She could not have been more entranced than she was at this moment. Nysa looked down as she saw her dress. Perhaps she and Lord Stark should have changed their clothes for the meeting with the small council. It was then that she looked ahead at Lord Stark and saw he was talking to Ser Jamie. She took a few steps forward before stopping, a sudden voice calling in her head. She spun around but no one was there.
"Throne," she heard a child's voice.
Again, Nysa turned but saw no one there. She looked back at the Iron Throne and took a deep breath at seeing how impressive it looked. Her eyes narrowed as she continued forward.
"When the Mad King died, I remember him laughing when your father burned," Nysa heard Ser Jamie as she drew closer. "It felt like justice."
"Is that what you tell yourself at night," Lord Stark asked. "That you were serving justice when you shoved your sword in Aerys Targaryen's back?"
"Tell me, would you mind if I had stabbed him in his belly instead of his back?"
Either way he was a Kingslayer, Nysa wanted to point out but she saw Lord Stark take a step towards Ser Jamie and say something that almost made his arrogant smirk disappear.
"Come Nysa," he called for her then as she picked up her skirts and hurried after him. She spared a glance Ser Jamie's way before looking once more at the Iron Throne. Her steps faltered in front of them, hearing the child's voice again. Throne. "It is impressive to finally see up close, isn't it," Lord Stark walked towards her.
"I think it's beautiful," she whispered. "They say that Aegon had a thousand swords used to forge this throne. He used his dragon Balerion." Her feet took her closer towards the structure. Slowly, her hand reached out and touched one of the blades at the bottom. Throne. A smile formed on her lips as she felt the cool edge before withdrawing from it.
"Nysa."
"Forgive me, Lord Stark," embarrassingly looking away.
"It is quite alright," he nodded before holding out his arm to gesture for them to continue to the meeting.
As they entered, a serving maid looked at Nysa before bowing her head and departing.
"Lord Stark."
Nysa turned to see a bald, somewhat heavy man approaching them. He seemed friendly but Nysa kept Lord Stark's advice close to her mind. As friendly as he looked, this man could be untrustworthy. He had on a most regal outfit and Nysa had to turn towards the cups to hide her smile. She was no longer in the North.
"Lord Varys," Lord Stark replied.
"I was terribly saddened to hear of the troubles on the Kingsroad. We are all praying for Prince Joffrey's quick recovery."
Nysa snorted lightly as she poured a cup of water.
"A shame you didn't say a prayer for the butcher's son," Lord Stark said.
Nysa smiled then, remembering Tyrion's words. "But remember, you need your wits too, when in King's Landing." It would appear as though Lord Stark knew that as well. She followed to where Lord Stark went to sit, placing the cup down for him. As he discussed his brother Brandon with one of the other council members.
"Would you like something to drink, my Lord," she asked the man next to Lord Stark.
"Lord Renly Baratheon," he smiled at her, taking her hand and lifting it to his mouth.
"The King's brother," she asked.
"Aye," he nodded, "and water is fine." She nodded and went to pour his cup. "Thank you, my Lady." She was about to correct him but instead turned sharply towards the other man speaking about Lady Catelyn.
"It wasn't the man that I chose, my Lord. It was Catelyn Tully, a woman worth fighting for," he said with a daring look towards Lord Stark. "I'm sure you'll agree."
"Catelyn Stark," Nysa spoke up.
He turned then and saw Nysa. "Excuse me?"
"That woman's name is Catelyn Stark," Nysa repeated. "And she has been the Lady of House Stark for many years." She paused and upon seeing that others were looking at her, she dipped into a curtsy, "my Lord."
The man cast a confused look around the room for a moment before settling back on her. "I..."
"I just thought that with the way you spoke of her, you may have forgotten that she wed Lord Stark and became Lady to a great House, my Lord."
His eyes narrowed at her for a moment. "I have not forgotten," he said before smiling and looking towards Lord Stark. "And is this your bastard daughter? I heard that you had one of those."
"No," Lord Stark answered simply before sitting down.
"Might I introduce myself then," he stepped closer to the table. "I am Lord Petyr Baelish," he nodded to Nysa. "And you are..."
"Serving the water and the wine," she smiled in reply. "Which would you prefer, my Lord?"
The King's brother released a slight chuckle before moving to sit down.
"Wine," Lord Baelish answered as Nysa went to the tray. She took out the cup and began to pour a cup for Lord Baelish.
"You were a young man," she caught the words from the Maester sitting in the corner as she set the cup down for Lord Baelish.
"And you served another King," Lord Stark commented.
Nysa bit her lip and moved to towards the first man who approached Lord Stark. "My Lord," she asked.
"Water," he answered. "And may I inquire as to how you came to be in our service this fine day?"
"I am just a serving maid here to pour the wine and water."
"Yes, but who are you really," he asked. "Serious things are often discussed here that one must ask."
Nysa nodded. "My father was a knight that served House Stark. My Uncle, also a knight, serves as the master-at-arms for House Stark. My brother is captain of the guard for House Stark," she smiled and leaned down. "I am here to do the same as my family, my Lord."
"Well met, my Lady."
"Without the King," Lord Stark asked then, drawing both her and Lord Varys's attention his way.
"Winter may be coming," Lord Renly began, "but the same does not apply to my brother."
"Ah yes, His Grace has many cares. He entrusts some small matters to us that we may lighten the load," he explained, "thank you, my dear," he thanked Nysa as she set the cup down.
She nodded towards the man and went to stand on the side after being dismissed by the Grand Maester. She listened to the council discuss a tournament in honor of Lord Stark. A smile formed on her face as she thought of Sansa. Perhaps that could brighten her mood. Her attention was won when they mentioned the prizes that could be won. Her brother would want to know of it. She looked down and sighed when they mentioned archery. Chances are, she would not be able to submit herself in the competition.
Lord Stark's raised voice made her look up when speaking about finances and how much was owed to the Lannisters. Quickly she grabbed the wine and walked towards Lord Baelish who had just run out.
"More w..."
She smiled and took Lord Baelish's cup from his hand and poured it before he could finish.
"Thank you," he nodded. "As I was saying the Crown is in debt. The Master of Coin finds the money. The King and the Hand," he gestured to Lord Stark before lifting the cup to his mouth, "spend it."
She doubted that they could spend that much coin and wondered the same as Lord Stark. The Grand Maester began to speak and she watched how he seemed to be a simple-minded man. Perhaps a little influence on the council but obviously, a man of his talents was needed. She studied the rest of the conversation, observing how Lord Stark was set against this tournament. Now that she knew the King had bankrupted the Realm, she did not want one either. Another smile formed on her lips as she thought of how Robb would not be able to handle such matters. He could barely work out the accounts for Winterfell.
"Still, we best make our plans," Lord Baelish insisted as she walked towards Lord Renly's cup.
"There will be no plans until I speak to Robert," Lord Stark's voice boomed in the room as everyone seem to fall silent.
She looked around before taking a step further towards the table. "Forgive Lord Stark, my Lords," Nysa started, "we've had a far journey and encountered some trouble along the way," she nodded to Lord Varys.
Lord Varys nodded towards her before turning away. "You are Hand of the King, Lord Stark. We serve at your pleasure."
"Then perhaps we could convene at another time, after I speak to the King," Lord Stark stated as he made to stand. "Lady Nysa, will see that any other matters come to my attention."
She nodded before turning towards the Lords.
"May I solicit an audience with her," asked Lord Varys.
"What did Lord Varys want," asked Lord Stark as they headed back towards the tower of the Hand. "Your conversation seemed short."
"He desired to know about my family. I explained to him only what the general populace knows. My mother is a Lady from the South and my father is a knight from the North. I do not know anything else, other than my brother Jory and my Uncle, Ser Rodrik," she answered.
"You were cautious about things that were said?"
"Yes, my Lord," she nodded.
"Good," he smiled and held the door open for her to enter. "You are to keep a room near Arya." She nodded again. "Your brother is just down the hall. I will ask that other than being at Sansa and Arya's service that you could follow your brother and I to certain meetings."
"Like that of the small council," Nysa asked.
"Aye," he replied. "Your brother will fetch if when needed."
"I fear if I leave Arya again then..."
"I will have another guard watch her. After all, what other troubles could they be getting into?" They both shared a laugh before their eyes lay on Arya being led away by Septa Mordane. "What is going on here?"
Arya sighed and shook her head as the Septa began to explain.
"Go to your room, I'll speak with you after."
Arya nodded but not before sending a smile Nysa's direction. Nysa moved towards the open chair and faced Sansa. "Sansa, I wanted to tell you something about Lady. That night that..."
"I do not wish to speak of Lady," Sansa sassed.
Septa Mordane looked over at her. "Sansa, that is rude."
"The Queen did not like the beast, so why should I mourn her," Sansa questioned.
"There's no need to mourn her," Nysa went to reach for Sansa's hand but she withdrew it. She bit her bottom lip and looked down. "Sansa, I just thought it help if I tell you what happened." Sansa turned away from facing her. Nysa felt like her heart had broken. Sansa always looked up to Nysa when she was a young child. She copied Nysa, often confided in Nysa and now it was like something had changed.
"Why don't you see to Arya, Nysa?" She looked up to see Lord Stark with the same pain in his eyes that she felt and nodded sadly.
She opened the door to Arya's chambers, still feeling hurt about what happened with Sansa. "Doesn't anyone knock anymore," Arya asked.
"Why? Do you have a knight hiding in here that your father not know about," Nysa turned around and smiled as Arya stuck out her tongue.
"A knight hiding here," she snorted, "seven Hells!"
"Arya that is no such way for a Lady to talk."
"You talk like that all the time with Jon and Robb."
Nysa smiled as she sat on the bed. "And as I said that is no way for a Lady to talk," she patted the bed as Arya sighed. "Now will you tell me what happened outside?"
"Sansa won't admit it but she lied at the Inn about Prince Joffrey," Arya looked at her.
"I know she did," Nysa brushed some of Arya's hair back.
"And Septa Mordane doesn't like me."
Nysa laughed. "I thought we went over this. Isn't it best to just follow what she says and then after lessons are done, you can do whatever it is that you want," Nysa suggested. "How do you think I got through my lessons with her?"
"It's different because you were the eldest, the first one for her to watch over," Arya shook her head. "Then Sansa followed and after that it was Jeyne. And even your cousin Beth," she protested. "Why can't I learn the bow like you?"
"I've taught you the bow and quite frankly Arya, I think you would surpass me," Nysa smiled.
Arya shook her head. "No, you know the bow well. You could out-shoot anyone in the North."
"Do you know what I heard during the small council meeting?" Arya brightened at that. "They are to hold a tourney in your father's honor. They are to have an archery competition. I want to enter but I doubt it that it would be much appreciated here."
"You could always hide under an armor, pretend to be Jory," she suggested as Nysa laughed then.
"Jory would have a fine bosom wouldn't he," Nysa said as Arya blushed and began to laugh as well.
"What else did you see," Arya asked her with eager anticipation.
Nysa explained how she met Petyr Baelish who Arya mentioned was known as 'Littlefinger'. Then she spoke about Lord Varys and the Grand Maester. Nysa did not seem to take a liking to any of them. But she did think that the King's brother was rather good looking. When Arya gave her a look of disgust, Nysa smiled and assured her that men like Jory, Torrhen, Jon and Robb were still handsome to her.
"Will you write to Jon about the meeting?"
"Probably," Nysa nodded.
"Will you tell him about my sword-play?"
"I spoke a little about it in my last letter but I did not tell him of what happened." Arya sighed in relief. "Though, I did mention it to Robb." That made Arya groan in displeasure. "Perhaps he will not be too upset with you. You know your brother loves you."
"I miss them. I want to go back home."
Nysa laughed. "It's only been our first day here."
"The Queen had me send Nymeria away. You had to send Lady away," she looked at Nysa before getting up and walking to her trunk.
"Arya..."
She took out her sword and looked at it intently. The way her eyes stared at it, reminded Nysa of how Jon would often stare at something with such emotion pouring through him. Arya wore the same look. "I wish I could take out my sword and challenge the Prince to a real duel. I'd cut his other arm to match the one Nymeria bit at."
"Arya..." Nysa tried again but this time a knock at the door.
"Go away!"
"Arya," Lord Stark's voice came from the other side. "Open the door," he commanded. Arya sighed but it was Nysa who went towards it, taking off the latch and nodding towards Lord Stark. "May you excuse us, Nysa?"
"Of course, my Lord."
He took her arm just before she could fully walk away. "Forgive Sansa," he urged. "She did not mean it."
Nysa nodded once more before walking across the hall where her room was. She would try to talk to Sansa again later.
Almost an entire week had passed with Sansa still quietly grieving the loss of the Prince's company. Nysa had sat in two more small-council meetings, neither of which the King attended. In fact, Nysa had rarely seen the King present in court or any other place. If she was not with Lord Stark, then he encouraged her to sit with Septa Mordane and Sansa. After discussing with Sansa her betrothal - and met with quiet hostility - Septa Mordane turned to Nysa and spoke about her possible betrothal to Torrhen Karstark.
"Nothing is certain," Nysa answered shyly.
"If I hear correctly, the matter is being seriously considered by both Lord Karstark and Lord Stark himself," Septa Mordane smiled. "Marriage to House Karstark is a fine thing indeed."
"How could it be if she is marrying the third-born son," Sansa questioned, putting her sewing down. "There's nothing fine about that. He won't inherit anything."
"I don't care for much," Nysa replied gently. "After all I do come from humble origins," she looked to Septa Mordane.
"How modest," she commented in return with a hint of approval.
"Yes, humble origins are a light way of saying you were a bastard."
"Lady Sansa," Septa Mordane began to chastise her.
Sansa turned to Nysa. "Forgive me, Nysa. I did not mean it," she apologized quickly.
But it sounded rehearsed, Nysa thought. She nodded and thanked Sansa for her words before requesting to retire early for the night. She was still in her room brooding over what she could do about Sansa when there was a knock at the door. Cayn stood outside and gave her a small bow.
"Forgive me, Lady Nysa," Cayn began, "but your brother sent me for you."
It was rather dark out, causing her to wonder why Jory would be needing her at this hour. She hurried down towards the front of the tower to see that he was not there either. Nysa sighed and began to walk across the yard toward the stables. Wyl was there, tending to a familiar horse.
"Biter," she proclaimed as the horse's ears twitched at his name. "How did you get here, boy?"
Wyl chuckled and gave Nysa instructions to go out into the City. That is where she would find her brother and also the reason for the horse's presence. She was a bit frightened to do so but quickly went out to meet Jory, walking down and turning right when she was told to do so. There were not that many guards out here. In fact, there was not a soul in sight.
She saw a horse belonging to House Stark at the end of the street and picked up her skirts, rushing towards it. "Jory," she whispered as he turned to look her way.
"Sh," Jory scolded her as she came to a halt by his side. "Lord Stark has important business he's finishing here. Not to mention, I thought you'd want to see our Uncle."
"Uncle?"
Jory lifted his hand, pointing a finger at the other end of the street. There stood her Uncle, serious as ever. He nodded to her. She smiled and had just gone to speak to him before spotting the other figure there.
"Lady Catelyn," Nysa exclaimed as she was gestured again to walk forward. Lady Catelyn - who was still in the arms of her husband - smiled lightly at her. She hurried past Lord and Lady Stark before running towards her Uncle. "Oh Uncle," she threw her arms around him.
It was then that she spotted the horse she had rode out of Winterfell on - her Uncle holding the reins. After the long journey, Jory and her Uncle must have decided to switch horses. Biter would stay here and the horses they had brought would be used to return Lady Stark and her Uncle. She almost envied the horse.
"I wish we were back at Winterfell. I wish..."
"Hush now," he pushed her back slightly before tapping her chin, "keep your head up, child. It can't be all that bad."
"People here are deceiving. The Queen is cruel and the Prince is heartless. Sansa is upset with me and I don't understand why. And then there's the Lords on the small council," she shook her head.
"You've met with the small council?"
"Lord Stark has invited me to sit in. He said that I should learn. But all I'm learning is that there is manipulation and deceit. And the King is barely a King at all."
"Be careful, young lady," he warned. "Those are hateful thoughts that can lead to disastrous actions. Your brother is looking after you, I'm sure." Ser Rodrik looked over her head, "that is if you've been behaving."
"Of course, she has Uncle," Jory shouted across the yard. Nysa could tell that he was being sarcastic and shook her head, sporting an innocent smile before turning towards their Uncle.
"What are you and Lady Catelyn doing here?"
Ser Rodrik looked up again before turning back towards her. "The lions are dangerous here, my niece. We've come to warn Lord Stark. You best watch yourself."
"What is happening," she questioned but it was then that Lady Catelyn appeared.
"Run along now, Nysa. Listen to your brother and my husband, alright." Nysa nodded before giving her Uncle another hug. She was about to hurry back to Jory when Lady Catelyn grabbed her arm. "Do not tell the girls that I was here, do you understand?"
"But..."
"They must not know," she cautioned. "Remind them that I love them both, that I want to protect them, all of them. They must listen to their father, to Jory, to you," she said. "I am proud of what you did on the Kingsroad with those dire wolves. The Gods know I did not want them in the Winterfell," she smiled, "but I have seen how they've protected my children. Lady was not the only member of House Stark the Lannisters wanted to kill. You remember that, Nysa," she placed her hands on her shoulder, "remember they will kill anything and anyone that gets in their way."
Jon twirled the golden flower in his fingers before smiling and placing it down. Nysa had no idea the joy that he felt when receiving her letter. He thought it would have been much longer until she wrote to him. But after everything that had happened here at the Wall, he was glad that she had wrote. She described her journey and now he'd tell her his.
It is large, I can guarantee you that. It is larger than anything I have expected. To think that a Stark built it - and as you would say he did it with the help of giants and the children of the forest, magic and sorcery. That was not meant to mock you. I was just remembering how you would try to best Robb and I during our lessons.
A chuckle left Jon's mouth. He shook his head, trying to picture Nysa's face when she read those words. She would laugh about it later.
Tyrion thought it was a magnificent sight. I was privileged to enjoy his company on the road. He's a bit rough around the edges. He delivered your letter along with the letter from Winterfell explaining to me that Bran has awakened. That day started off horrid but ended nicely once I read the letters and spoke to Tyrion. I must say that I have somewhat found a friend of sorts in him. My new brothers mocked me upon my arrival. They called me 'Lord Snow' and the ever common one - bastard. Tyrion helped me put things into perspective and I was reminded of how you and I had training that no other person of lower status could have. There is one boy here, who cannot read or write. Another who never picked up a sword before in his life. And despite many of their sad stories, I remembered that I was given privileges none of them had. It also makes me realize that the Wall has no true fighters, no real soldiers. I've taken to training them.
"Good for you, Jon," he could imagine Nysa smiling at him. "I'm glad you've made this place your own."
He closed his eyes and her face disappeared from before him. Her words floated away in the wind. It had not been that long that they were apart but still he prayed he could see her, he prayed he could see all of them, talk to them. With a sigh, Jon sat up and began to write again.
I miss my family, everyone - especially you. Almost as soon as I came, Uncle Benjen left to go beyond the Wall. I wanted to go with him. I know I could fight whatever is out there. He will be gone for months. Yes, I have gained brothers and made friends but they do not replace the hole in me that should contain all of you.
It is so white, so cold here at the Wall, Nysa. It is a space of emptiness, blinding snow and deafening wind. I was glad that you sent a piece of your journey with you. If I could, I send you a piece of the Wall but I fear it would melt before it even leaves the North. I have the gloves you made for me as well as the small clothes so do not worry about how I am staying warm.
He blushed and remembered Tyrion finding the small clothes. They were warmer than others, he said in his defense. To his gratitude, Tyrion said nothing to the others. To his horror, he did ask how it came to be that she had made it for them. Nysa had tried measuring him and Robb one night to make it. She argued that at Karhold they used another sort of material that helps dry quicker and keep the air out. Robb had quickly taken off his tunic and breeches. It was not the first time he had done so in front of Nysa. But truth be told the last time was well before they were grown.
I have not received any other letter from Winterfell - other than informing me of Bran's well-being. I wonder what it is like now - without you, Arya and father there. I pray that I can protect my home from whatever monsters are over the Wall. Do you think they are real, Nysa? Do you think that
"Writing letters to your seamstress, Lord Snow?" Jon smiled and put down the quill, turning to see Tyrion. "The two of you are rather interesting bastards, you know that, right?"
"And you are a rather interesting dwarf," Jon countered.
Tyrion snorted before both shared a laugh. "Come with me," Tyrion gestured as Jon got up from his chair.
As Jon followed him out, he thought about where he was being led and realized that he'd trust the little Lannister over many of the other men here. It seemed odd to think highly of someone who spoke so bluntly. Jon looked around as Tyrion led them towards the top of the Wall. He thought the little man was about to jump. That is until he heard the unmistakable sound of relieving oneself. Tyrion was taking a piss off the Wall. He did say that he would do it. Jon could not help but chuckle.
Tyrion turned around and shook his head. "When you do go out ranging, do tell me if my piss froze," he smirked.
Jon shook his head before dropping his smile. "I'm sorry to see you leave, Lannister."
Tyrion seemed shocked by the honest confession. In truth, Tyrion came to enjoy Jon Snow's company as well. The boy was a bit too serious for his age - unlike the female Snow counterpart. He did not want to admit it but this bastard was a pretty decent fellow.
"It's either me or this cold and it doesn't appear to be going anywhere," he looked away from Jon.
"Do you plan on stopping by Winterfell on your way South?"
"I expect I will," he replied. "The Gods know there aren't much feather-beds from here to King's Landing."
"If you see my brother Bran," Jon sighed, "tell him I miss him."
"Of course," Tyrion nodded.
Jon shook his head, thinking about Bran. He, Robb and Nysa may have caused a lot of havoc while they were growing up but Bran could explore places that they could never get to. And now, he released a sigh thinking about it. "He'll never walk again."
"Aye. But if you're going to be a cripple, better to be a rich cripple," Tyrion told him, once again reminding Jon that Bran would still have advantages that others would not. "Take care, Snow."
"Farewell, my Lord," Jon shook his hand before stepping aside to let him pass.
Jon looked out over the Wall one last time. He was not there for them now. Arya was practicing sword-playing. He should be there to help her, teach her. He gave her sword but was that enough? Robb was there, learning how to be a Lord but Jon knew that Robb would always ask him for advice. Sansa always ignored him and Theon. She would become Queen and he would not see any of that. Nysa would be with him - even at night - telling him that things were alright and listening to his concerns. She always listened. Bran and Rickon, he thought about next as he stared over the snow. He missed them. He missed them all.
"How exciting," Nysa heard Sansa's squeal of delight. Arya rolled her eyes and was about to run back to her room when Nysa grabbed her arm and pulled her to the front.
"The tourney is in honor of your father," Nysa told her. "It be best if you show up and support him, don't you think?"
"I rather be practicing my lessons," Arya snorted.
So far, the only persons who knew about Arya's lessons - other than Arya and her dance instructor - was Nysa, Jory and a few other guards who would ensure that she arrived on time. After discovering the sword, Lord Stark decided that Arya ought to learn how to use the sword, properly that is. Nysa had gone to Arya's first lesson to watch her as she wrote her second letter to Jon. She read his letter while writing hers and smiled constantly at his words.
"I told Jon of your dancing lessons," Nysa smiled.
"And what did he say," Arya asked excitedly.
"I'm not sure. I have not got his response, yet," she smiled and shook her head. "But he is having lessons of his own."
"Why," Arya questioned, "Jon knows how to use the sword."
Nysa let out a small laugh then. "What I should have said is that Jon is giving lessons," she corrected as Arya tilted her head. "The others at the Wall do not know how to use the sword so he is helping them."
Arya smiled. "If anyone can teach them, it would be Jon. He knows how to fight."
"So as much as we miss him, do you see how a man like Jon was needed at the Wall? We may want him here with us, but imagine if he didn't go there," Nysa explained. "There would be men who are untrained serving as the Night's Watch. I'm proud that Jon went."
"Now that you mention it, I'm proud he went too," Arya smiled.
"Nysa," the both turned to see Sansa hurrying to her side. "I've been invited to dine with the Queen."
"I guess it isn't about the tourney," Arya mumbled as Nysa bit her bottom lip to hold back a laugh.
"How gracious of her Grace to honor you with such an invitation," Nysa said, patting Arya's shoulder encouragingly.
"Yes, how gracious of her," Arya deadpanned. Nysa closed her eyes, taking a deep breath before looking back at Arya who merely shrugged. It was possibly the best she could do and Nysa should not hold it against her.
"I wanted you to come with me," Sansa said.
"But..."
"Father said it would be okay. He has to see the Grand Maester and some other business," Sansa waved her hand. "I want you to come with me. I must look good for her and behave my best and you can help me with that. Please Nysa," she pleaded grabbing onto Nysa's hand.
"After you've been ignoring her," Arya asked, narrowing her eyes at her sister.
"Nysa knows that I was simply in one of my moods. Please Nysa," she began to beg, "this might be my one chance to apologize to the Queen for my behavior on the Kingsroad."
"Your behavior," Nysa questioned. "You did exactly what she wanted you to do."
"And that involved lying," Arya finished.
Sansa eyed her younger sister before turning towards Nysa. "I need to make her happy. I need the Queen to be pleased with me. Please Nysa," she asked again.
Nysa sighed and went to help Sansa get ready. She still had not told Sansa about Lady. Sansa was making it rather difficult for her to talk and Nysa knew she could not say it anytime she wanted to, not with the warning she took to heart from her Uncle, Lady Catelyn and Lord Stark. She had just finished braiding Sansa's hair and decided to help her into her gown when Sansa began to talk about how much she wanted the Queen's approval, how it would mean the world to her if she could wed the Prince after what happened. She could not picture herself without him.
"Is that how you feel with Robb," Sansa asked suddenly causing Nysa to look at her in the vanity.
"I care for your brother, Sansa. That is all," Nysa answered.
"The Prince was looking at me the same way that I would see Robb looking at you," she said with a twinkle in her eyes. Nysa turned away and began to fix something else - anything as long as she was not looking at Sansa. She highly doubted that Joffrey could cast a kind look upon anyone. "I want to wed him, Nysa. And he's already displeased with me."
"He is not displeased with you," Nysa said as she sat down by Sansa.
"I took his side on the Kingsroad and yet he's been avoiding my company. It's all Arya's fault. She ruined everything!"
"She did not ruin anything, Sansa."
"We were having a pleasant time, walking like you and Robb," she turned to Nysa, "and then it all happened!"
Nysa took a deep breath and knew that now Sansa was telling the truth.
"He hit Mycah, cut his face with his sword," Sansa explained. "Arya pleaded with him to stop but then he turned his sword on her. I told them to stop. I told them!" Nysa ran her hand over Sansa's hair gently to soothe her. "He kept swinging his sword at her. I didn't think that it would have turned out so bad. Arya was on the ground when Nymeria came out and stopped Joffrey."
So, there it was, Nysa thought.
"I told them to stop," she repeated, "but they didn't and then when we were at the Inn," she shook her head as Nysa continued to comfort her. "I took his side and he is still upset with me! Why is he upset with me, Nysa?"
"A man does not like to appear weak in front of his lady. Sometimes that happened in the yard back at Winterfell," Nysa described a day that her and Robb were out practicing archery. "Robb would smile whenever I had a good shot with the bow but the second that he'd try and miss, the men would snicker at him. I had to placate Robb, say words to make him feel like a man again. That's probably all you need to do," she encouraged, "speak pretty words to the Prince, Sansa."
"I do not know what to say to him."
"Compliment him, speak of him as you are doing right now," Nysa instructed.
"I find myself unable to speak when I'm with him. He must think me a fool."
"That is the way of young love. Men will make fools of themselves as well."
"Not Prince Joffrey," Sansa shook her head. "He is smart and kind and," Sansa pouted, "and I don't know what I'll do if I don't wed him."
She could help but laugh lightly at that. "If you do not wed the Prince, I'm sure your father will be able to find another for you to wed. Perhaps a strong and brave knight that will..."
"A knight is nothing compared to Prince Joffrey," Sansa snapped as she stood up, "now let's go before we are late. I would not want the Queen to become displeased with me again."
Nysa followed Sansa towards where the Queen was hoping to have luncheon with her. It was outside in the one of the gardens. Nysa noted that two of the Kingsguards were here, one of them was Ser Preston while the other was another she did not recognize. Ser Preston nodded to her before being allowed to pass.
"Ah, Lady Sansa," the Queen held her arms open in welcome, "I am so pleased that you could come."
Nysa went immediately to grab a cup and pour some water for Sansa. Immediately the Queen's hand wrapped around her wrist and held it tightly.
"Did the Lady ask for some water?" Before she could reply, the Queen continued, "No, she did not." She released Nysa's hand and encouraged Sansa to sit while dismissing Nysa to stand on the side. "You have to train the girl better than that if she is to serve as your lady-in-waiting."
A strange feeling overcame Nysa then. She waited for Sansa's words.
"Her family has House Stark for many years," Sansa encouraged but then looked away timidly, "she knows her place."
The Queen smiled at her before turning towards Nysa. "I remember how she spoke out of turn at the Kingsroad," she began before patting Sansa's hand, "it was a most unfortunate event and I hope that you bear no ill-will toward Joffrey and me. You have to understand that your sister acted violently towards him."
"I do," Sansa nodded. "Arya always misbehaves."
"We would need to watch the company we keep, little one," she touched Sansa's cheek and Nysa had to look away again, "And what a beautiful face you have. You will do perfectly here at court. The Lords and Ladies will fawn over you. You are like a little dove, so innocent," the Queen said with a voice that made Nysa feel uncomfortable. "Train that creature over there," Nysa knew the comment was directed towards her, "and be cautious as to what your sister does. The next time, I won't be so forgiving. And you would not want to disappoint me, would you?"
"Of course not, your Grace," Sansa answered as Nysa closed her eyes and sighed.
Queen Cersei knew how to use her wits. She had Sansa wrapped around her finger. And the way Nysa was being treated as though she were nothing, she felt a little hurt. It stung when Sansa began to order her the same way that the Queen was. She saw the smile of approval that the Queen bestowed on Sansa. "The lions are dangerous here, my niece. We've come to warn Lord Stark. You best watch yourself." It appears she would also have to look out for Sansa also.
"How was your luncheon with the Queen today," Jory asked his sister when she came back to help Sansa change for sup. Nysa turned to look at him before looking back out the window. It was not long until she began to sob. Jory sighed and closed the door to Nysa's room then began walking towards her. "Come, sister," he held his arms open and she gladly threw herself into them. "What happened?"
"Sansa spilled her cup of water and the Queen made me clean it up," Nysa began to explain as her body shook with her sobs, "she made me clean it up with the skirts of my dress."
Jory closed his eyes and pressed a kiss to his sister's forehead.
"She told Sansa to keep me away from the Prince. Girls like me may lead him away and with the Prince finding displeasure in Sansa at the moment, she would not want him to find favor with another," Nysa scoffed, "as if I would try to lure that insolent, vile beast! He's the beast, not Lady or Nymeria," she cried in his arms. "I know that he and Sansa are betrothed! Why would I want to take him away from her?"
"Surely Sansa rejected the idea," Jory replied. "She knows that you wouldn't dare do such a thing."
"At first, she didn't but then," Nysa paused. His sister's tears began to flow earnestly as she shook her head against his chest. It was obvious that Sansa allowed the thought to fester in her mind. "The Queen reminded her that Lord Stark had Jon and that Sansa would not want what happened to her mother to happen to her. It was just awful. I had to stand there and keep my mouth shut. I couldn't defend myself. And the more that the Queen spoke, the more Sansa agreed with her!"
"Nysa..."
"I don't understand why Sansa would let the Queen treat me like that!"
"She may be..."
"She lied about the attack on the Kingsroad, you know," his sister shouted. "Then to know that she pretended to dislike me too," she shook her head. "She treated me as though I were inferior. She's never done that before, Jory. Never!"
"Sh," Jory quieted her, rubbing her back comfortingly. "You have to keep your head up, sister. This is all the Queen's doing. We both saw how she weaved the Prince's sad tale around to those on our journey. It would be no different for us here. You cannot let the Queen see that she is getting to you. Remember what Uncle and Lady Stark told you," he pushed her back to look in her eyes, "we've come to a dangerous place, Nysa. We need to watch our backs wherever we go."
"I know," she sighed.
"As for Lady Sansa, she knows who her true friends are. She will come to see that in time, you will be her greatest ally here. Do not let the Queen see that you have given up. Understand," he asked.
Nysa nodded and wiped her face with her dress sleeve.
"Now, why don't I tell you what I did today?"
"What did you do," Nysa asked, glad for the distraction.
"I went with Lord Stark to see the City," he moved to sit them down at the edge of his sister's bed. "He's been following Lord Arryn's trail."
"Trail," she asked with a confused expression.
"Apparently, Lord Arryn was considering something and it seems as though we are on the right path."
"What did you find?"
Jory looked around the room before pulling his sister to stand and taking her towards the balcony of her room. They were open and he could see if anyone was looking at them, he gestured for her to lean against the wall before checking the side of the balcony and everything else about them.
"Do you truly believe that the walls have ears?"
"Aye," he answered before turning back to her. "Do not share this with Arya or write it in your letters back North," he instructed as she nodded. "We found the King has a son, a bastard son," Jory answered as Nysa's eyes widened. "He's about your age, maybe older. But Lord Stark said he looks just as the King did in his youth."
"Does the King know he's there?"
Jory shook his head. "I doubt anyone knows that he is there, except us and Lord Arryn."
"And now Lord Arryn is dead," Nysa whispered.
"And with the warning that we received from Uncle and Lady Stark, I think something is happening." Jory moved her back inside. "I was ill-treated as well," he placed her against the wall inside her room. "It reminded me that people are not like Lord Stark here. You'll be treated differently as will I."
"I don't understand," she shook her head. "Our father was a knight, our Uncle is a knight, why would they mistreat you?"
"Because I am not one," Jory whispered before pulling out his dagger. "I want you to carry this."
"Jory..."
"Listen to me, Nysa," he shook her slightly. She stared at him and nodded that she was paying attention. He pressed her further against the wall. "Take it," he placed it in her hand, "I know you like a bow better than a sword but you can't exactly walk around with a bow."
Jory looked intently at her to show how serious he was being about this. He moved her hand so that the blade would face him. With a quick movement, he shoved the dagger towards his chest.
"If someone pushes you into a corner, like how you are now," Jory wrapped his hand around hers, "you stab them right here."
"Jory..."
He saw the fear in his sister's eyes but he shook his head. Now was not the time to go soft or hold back. He could sense it. With the warning that Lord Stark received, the closer he got to finding out Lord Arryn's death and the way both he and his sister were being treated, he knew that no one would hold back in committing some sort of evil act against them. And Nysa would suffer the most - they made sure that young women suffered the most.
"You do not need to fight them for long if you get the dagger in here," he gestured to his chest. "You hit the heart right there. And if you miss," Jory moved their hands towards his stomach, "and hit the man anywhere else, you twist the dagger when you pull it out. Never let it go."
Nysa nodded slowly. Jory took a step back and lifted his head, exposing his neck.
"If your attacker is taller - which may happen," he took her hand and moved the blade in an upward direction towards his neck, "you stick him here, at the top of his throat, right below his chin," he repeated the gesture as he heard his sister gasp, "push it upwards into his skull, do you understand?"
"Yes," she whispered.
Jory withdrew, taking a step back again and dropping her hand. "If your attacker slaps you, hits you or does something to get you down," he motioned for her to kneel. He took a step forward and made a motion with his hand to lift hers. "You stab him here," he thrust her hand towards his thigh, "you keep on stabbing him until he falls too." Jory knelt before her. "Men don't have armor down there."
"Do you really think that it will come to that?"
He reached out and touched his sister's cheek. "I know it will."