Jasper

"Quick Silver snatched victory from you, didn't he?" Robert grinned. "He left poor Thunder in his dust."

Jasper held his arm around his brother and laughed as they entered his solar. "The day is yours." He patted him on the back. "Fortune favors you today." They shared a chuckle between them as they settled in from their hawking expedition. Jasper disappeared behind his desk while his brother took a seat, still excited from the expedition. Robert was lanky, with thin arms and legs, but his skin held a healthy color from his fostering in Runestone. The Stranger no longer threatened him even if he didn't hold a robust frame. His brown hair flowed handsomely, and Lady Jaina would appreciate that much about him. I need him to bind the Redforts further to my cause. Jasper looked for any hints of treachery in his eyes from his sire, but he noted no cunning in his conduct. Robert's wits were slow, and he was no soldier either, even if he showed spirit. Tales of valor and legends of the past lived in his mind, and Jasper didn't have the heart to truly dispel such notions from his heart. Brotherly love made the task hard, and it seemed kinder to humor him.

You shall always be my brother, Robert. I shall always protect you.

"Let us drink to your success, then. The good shit." Jasper proposed.

Robert smiled. "To House Arryn! And to you as well, brother!" Goblets clashed together like swords.

A little wine swirled between them. Though neither of them were truly drunk. Arryns don't get drunk. And it was nice to have his company with Ser Brynden in the Riverlands with his wards. Life had grown a little less hectic. Even if his children made sure it wasn't too quiet. A pang of worry knotted in his chest. Tommen and Bran needed to go to the Riverlands. Jasper knew. His base of support needed to be shored up among the River Lords as Kings Landing grew disquieting with Lord Starks weakness. His sources in the Royal Court confirmed his decline and plans needed to be made to quickly restore control in the capital. Marriages needed to be honored between Stark and Baratheon, then Lord Stark could finally be sent home to Winterfell as Tommen would be the perfect symbol to rally behind. He's only a boy. He's not ready. Too young. But they had no choice due to Lord Stark's ailments. They couldn't risk losing control to other factions in court. The River lords would be given a greater slice of the pie to secure their support. Uncle Edmure would join them, especially with his Lannister wife whispering into his ear. Tommen would give the appointment of Master of Coin to Lord Willem which had bought the Lannisters to their cause. Lord Stark had served honorably and had righted the financial ship, but he had done little to shore up House Baratheons position within Kings Landing and beyond. Lord Stannis never should have been permitted Dragonstone and Storms End. It belongs to the Heir of the Iron Throne. And he would correct such errs for the good of the Crown.

"I wish I could have joined you on campaign." Robert said sullenly. "The glory I could have achieved for House Arryn."

Jasper paused uneasily for a moment before offering his default flashy smile. "You missed little. Don't let those greybeards or green boys tell you otherwise." He missed only the sounds of dying men calling out for their families or the Gods. No one would save them. Better men died while they who lived lingered on in the world. Guilt gnawed at him. The burden of lordship. No, Robert didn't miss anything of note. "You shall earn plenty of renown, Robert." Both of his wards performed admirably on the field. Bran had uncovered a small goat path towards the villages of the Burned Men and allowed them to take them unaware. The Northern Clans followed Red Rain into battle as oaths sworn in Winterfell promised. And they were fine men Jasper was proud to fight with. A fine victory that did much to strengthen the position of his clansman in pacifying the region. A more peaceful realm for his children to soar safely and the innocents of the Vale to travel his lands without fear of being accosted. Tommen slew Chief Timmet son of Timmet in a fierce clash and before the Northern Clansman and Arryn men Jasper knighted him for it. "Crown Prince Tommen! Crown Prince Tommen!" They chanted his wards name as if he were a king. "A Knight of the Vale!" Dawn howled, a loud whine piercing the heavens. And when he squinted his eyes, it looked like a crown rested on Tommens brow. He remembered almost weeping.

"When?" Robert asked with hope.

"Well, you are wedding Lady Jaina soon and you shall further our family line. A great service to our family."

"But that isn't the field of battle." He whined.

Jasper sighed. "Don't be so eager to march, Robert. Your day will come." He grasped him on the shoulder. "You serve our family by tying us to House Redfort. You are serving House Arryn. Do you understand?"

Robert nodded. "She is a fine woman, I suppose."

"Aye, she'll make a man of you." He winked.

And when Robert held his newborn child in his arm, he would forget all about knights and duels on the battlefield. Dreams of glory would vanish from his mind and everything would be fine. His brother rolled his eyes. "I guess." He mumbled. Conversation soon shifted to more lighthearted topics, like falconry and horse breeding. Both of them enjoyed such things. Myrcella helped him with finding something in common with Robert. Thank the Seven for her. Or he would still be a distant stranger in Robert's eyes.

The door creaked open as Roland came into the solar, swinging his toy sword at imaginary foes. "Father! Uncle Robert! Look at me!" His voice was high and happy. His lips twirled up lightly. My son and heir. Grand Uncle Brynden convinced him it was time to give him a toy sword. "You do the boy no favors, Jasper. It is time to prepare him." Jasper wished otherwise. "I know ser. A toy sword for now. Soon he shall train under Ser Edmund, I swear. Just one more year. I can spare him that."

Jasper chuckled, amused. "I see you, my boy. Are you the Falcon Knight? Defeating villains?"

"No, I'm you father wielding Red Rain killing the mountain shits and the squids! Lesser bastards!" Roland slashed with his sword and his heart smashed in his chest like a drum and the ringing overwhelmed his ears. He sounds like me. He'll become me. Innocents and honorable men dead following their haughty lord to battle. The weak and the brave always suffered the most while the wretched lived. Men with ambitions in their hearts. Kinslayer. A cursed lord. Jasper's cheek flushed with anger. You will not become me! He grabbed Roland by the collar.

"WHO TOLD YOU THAT BOY! ANSWER ME!"

"Father." Rolland looked at his shoes.

"LOOK ME IN THE EYE WHEN IM TALKING TO YOU!"

Robert stirred. "Brother-"

"STAY THE FUCK OUT OF THIS! HE'S NOT YOUR SON!" Robert stumbled back, silenced. He twisted to Roland, who held tears in his eyes. "Quit your whimpering and answer me!" And he did not hide the fury in his voice. How could he say that? Roland sobbed uncontrollably at his tone. It shamed him to have brought him to tears. Why did you say that?

"I- I- I Just heard it somewhere. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

He paused, deeply uncomfortable by his weeping. Another man might have disciplined him with the rod for this shameful dishonor, but Jasper didn't have the heart to do it. I don't wish him to fear me. A long moment passed with Roland's occasional sniffle as he nodded. "Alright. Alright. Don't say that again. Don't say that again, Roland." He repeated with a lord's voice and gave his leave to depart. Roland dropped his toy sword and bolted from the room as quick as an arrow. Why did he say that? Have I failed him so? He picked up the wooden toy and gripped the handle and gave it a practice swing. It was good work. Rolands words were that of an ignorant child. He didn't know what he was saying. I should not have acted so emotionally. Some Arryn I am. Grand Uncle Brynden would have given him a stern lecture, not driven him to tears. It's what a father should have done. Robert looked at him awkwardly.

"Thank you Robert for your company. You can go."

"That was ill done." Robert mumbled.

Jasper offered no reply and started some work reading letters and writing replies. He didn't get too far as he disappeared to the Strangers Realm again. Five blows before I slashed the man's throat open. His lifeblood splattered over my helm. Red Rain, the cursed blade, drank his blood. His breath was heavy from battle with the banners of the Vale swirling around the rocky ridge and the distant sound of steel kissing. The clansmen son ran from the mud hut, escaping the mother's arms. A hunting knife in his hands and vengeance in his heart, like a stupid boy. "Drop it! FUCKING DROP IT!" He shouted. The boy pressed forward screaming. A lance kissed him through the chest. One of his knights offered a nod, as if he should be pleased with the pool of blood in front of him. The woman's wails pierced his chest worse than any blade. What happened to the woman? He couldn't recall. Jasper didn't want to know. Move forward. He had to move forward or he would die. Where were his wards? Were they dead? They were fine. Another man swung, and he sent him to the gods with a thrust of Red Rain.

He grabbed his head, crushing strands of auburn hair trying to banish his migraine. I'm Jasper Aryn, Lord of the Eyrie. I'm Jasper Arryn, Lord of the Eyrie. I'm in the Eyrie. I'm in the Eyrie. Everything is fine. Everything is fine. You're fine. You're fine. He repeated these words in his until he calmed. Jasper knew he couldn't collapse. Too many depended on him. Myrcella, Roland, Alyssa, Robert, Brynden, Arrow. Myrcella told him to think of things he loved when he needed to relax, and it helped most days. He focused on a happy memory; Myrcella working in the garden with the children running around laughing. Alyssa found a new rock to give him, and he tossed Roland into the air. "Higher father! Toss me higher, father!" He sighed. Jasper turned his head to his work, and he had done more than he thought. All of his letters and missives were stacked neatly to the side. When he was a boy, he would have sought Arrow and gone for a ride to clear his head, but he was a father as well as a lord and couldn't run from his errs.

Myrcella entered as beautiful as always with an intelligent glint in her eye. No doubt she had some clever plot, but he knew what he needed to do. "Jasper-" He kissed her on the lips and her cheeks reddened prettily.

"Worry not Myrcella. I shall speak with our boy. I shall make things right, I swear." He promised. "No need to be subtle."

"You think strangely of me, husband." Myrcella said sweetly. "But I think that is lovely lord husband. I know you'll do well." And gave him a small kiss on his cheek.

Roland was under the covers, clutching his toy horse. Sunlight still peered through the window. His cheeks were puffy and red from his tears. Jasper thanked the Seven Alyssa was elsewhere for once. "You left your toy with me." Jasper said and leaned it against the wall. "I thought you would want it back."

"Thank you, father." He mumbled, refusing to meet his gaze as he took a seat at the edge of the bed.

"Its alright Roland." He tried to reassure him. "Get your warmest cloak. We are going on a trip, you and me."

"I'm sorry." Roland swore.

"This is no punishment, Roland." He softened his voice and offered a smile. "Listen, I'm sorry for yelling. You didn't deserve that. There is no dishonor in admitting you are wrong and I should not have done what I did." He pointed at him. "It still doesn't excuse your words. Understand?"

Roland bobbled his head up and down. "Yes, father." His voice was still far too quiet, and he grabbed his cloak quickly. It took the rest of the day to venture down to the Gates of the Moon, where the staff treated them to a warm meal that improved both of their spirits. Roland got to feed the mules as well and was back to his cheerful self. It lessened his fears that he hurt his son beyond repair. At dawn they departed by horseback with a company of guardsman and knights. Roland rode with himself. A quick trip to where the Arryn Kings and Lords of the Eyrie were laid to rest. The crypts were buried deep into the bowels of the mountain. The company of Arryn guardsman flanked behind them. Arms. A sky-blue falcon soaring against a white moon, on a sky-blue field. "Where are we going?" Roland asked.

"To meet your grandfather." Jasper answered.

He ushered Roland down into the cold earth, guided only by torchlight. The Arryn Kings hugged the walls with eyes that judged you, but he no longer cared. Let them judge me. They were flawed men, too. "Is this grandfather?" Rolands said, teeth chattering. It was cold, damp, and dead. Jasper didn't enjoy visiting this place. I held vigil here all night when father was interned for his last rest as was tradition until I was on the verge of collapse. In some accounts of prior Arryns before him, they spoke of hearing their fathers in these tombs, but Jasper heard nothing. Back then, he supposed Jon Arryn had little to say to him, but now he thought he had too much. I don't want to speak with him now. It had been six years since his last visit.

"Aye Roland, this is your grandfather Jon Arryn." The statue beside of him was Denys the Daring. His father had him interned as well, along with Elbert. Though neither had sat the Weirwood Throne in the Eyrie. Heroes they may have been, but it was a mockery to tradition. Only those who achieved great things for House Arryn were permitted here sons who soared higher than their sires. And Denys and Elbert died too young. "Some men say he was the greatest Arryn that has ever lived. He overturned the House of the Dragon for the sake of his wards and served as Hand of the King for seventeen years. He soared beyond his sire, my namesake Jasper Arryn." Jasper admitted. "But he erred too Roland, no matter how high he soared. He allowed traitors to our house to be forgiven and retain their privileges when they should have been stripped." Jasper was still bothered by not taking Gulltown from House Grafton, leaving him to deal with their treacherous line. "And his kindness towards vultures was a mistake. One should never be kind to predators of the night." Though he didn't wish Roland to fear poorly of his grandsire. "He was still an honorable man that inspired love and loyalty." A better man than I could ever hope to be. He was no kinslayer

"I wish I could have met him." Me too, my boy. Me too. "But I still don't understand why we are here?"

Jasper turned to him and went down to his level. "The Eyrie, my boy, is the shiny castle on the mountaintop above the meanness of people. When you descend into the valleys below of dirt and filth it's a complicated place that makes your head hurt villains." He thought of Harry or Lord Baelish. "Heroes." The face of Grand Uncle Brynden came to him. "They all blur together in the muck until your head is spinning and the truth is impossible to see. In the dirt they test your honor and try to confuse you. It is important to see what is right and wrong, for lords shall turn to House Arryn for wisdom when the night grows darkest. The blood of Artys Arryn flows through our veins. Noble blood from a heroic man." Pride filled his voice. A pride in their history and conviction that House Arryn would lead the way. "It is our House that shall create a more honorable realm guided by our honor." He squeezed his shoulder gently. "I grew worried the other day." Jasper paused awkwardly. "All Arryns want their sons to soar beyond them reaching new heights and your words were not how lords should behave. We kill our enemies, but we don't hate them. They are still men flesh and blood with dreams in their minds, like you or me."

Roland nodded solemnly. "I understand, father. I promise I'll be better." He bit under his lip. "But." His voice was soft. "Can I still be your son, too?"

Jasper struggled not to weep. A father should not cry in front of his son, and he didn't, but his voice cracked with emotion. "Yes, oh yes. You are my son." He wrapped his arms around him. "I'll always love you, my boy. Never forget that Roland. You are my son." Jasper knew he should tell him more often, but it never came easily to him. It was easier being a lord than a father. Easier to kill a man than tell his son he loved him. Myrcella was better at this emotional nonsense than him. "I love you and your siblings. It hurts." He separated for a moment with a small smile. "Just don't grow up too quickly. Let me worry about this dirty world for now." And as long as he had strength in his limbs, he would do his duty to his family. I shall protect them from harm, no matter the cost.

Myrcella

Myrcella reached for a hanker chef of silk to blow her snot filled nose. I'm a snot princess. She mused annoyed. Colds were terribly annoying. Her head was pounding like a drum and she shivered underneath the blankets. Maester Colemon gave her some tea for her headache and to clear her nose, but it wasn't helping as much as she hoped.

At least Jasper is on a hunt with Robert and won't see me like this.

Roland and Alyssa came to see her, holding little Brynden's hand, but she sent her sweet little babes away. The only thing worse than her pounding head imagining her children with colds. It would be a nightmare three sick children. If Tommen were here, he would have remained by her bedside or sent his cats to keep her company, but he was off in the Riverlands with the Blackfish on a small Royal Progress, demonstrating himself as a prince of the realm.

The door creaked open and the serving girl dipped her head and extended some parchment. "Your daughter, princess."

"Thank you Ellen." Myrcella smiled. "Just leave it at the bed. Come no closer. I don't wish you to get ill."

When Ellen left, Myrcella stirred herself and grabbed her daughter's letter. She read it over several times, beaming with pride at the courtesy written in ink. How bright her little girl was to think of sending a letter when she forbade her from coming. Sweet Alyssa was a perfect little angel and would make a fine queen one day. She would wear the crown perfectly! I should take a heavier hand in her education and I'll mold her into a queen. A mere lord wouldn't be worthy of her. She deserved the best to be married to one of her cousins where she could-

Don't think like that! Myrcella thought, appalled. She is only a girl of five name days.

It felt like something her mother would have done, and it placed her in a sour mood.

Myrcella sneezed, a high pitch sound that hurt her ears and made her migraine worse. "Stupid cold." She mumbled and rubbed her temples. She refused to see any of her ladies-in-waiting for fear of getting them sick. Her beautiful jade cyvasse set mocked her, but it hurt too much to think about playing. Even her garden was denied to her. The Blue lilies are really blooming. Only sleep and rest remained to her.

Are you sick as well Sansa? Myrcella hoped not. They may be quarreling, but it would be awful for her to feel sick. She murmured a quick prayer that she was well and hale. It was heartbreaking Sansa Stark was hellbent on making them foes and she had to answer the challenge. It was almost as annoying as this cold. Sansa turned lords and ladies of court into her own little pawns and as the future Queen of the realm they flocked to her like a horde of ravens seeking her favor. A few remained to her, but it mattered little. Soon her little Sansa problem was going to be at an end. Myrcella giggled. Did you really think I wouldn't have prepared a replacement should you prove unruly? Poor Sansa silly girl. Arya Stark wasn't her first choice. They were hardly great friends, but she cared for her brother. Somehow she actually liked Tommens god awful animal puns. Myrcella smiled at how adorable they looked when they danced together. But above all, she wasn't an enemy to her family. I don't tolerate threats to my little flock. Sansa remained blind to the threat that would sweep her from the board and into the wilderness.

Tommen, I know you love Arya. I see it in those green eyes of yours.

During the stay at Winterfell, she watched them and subtly encouraged Tommen to spend more time with Lady Arya. By the end of their stay, she noted the occasional awkward glance between them. Something happened! It simply needed to be grown and nurtured. Friendship easily could lead to romantic love.

But he was proving to be a very stubborn, honorable boy about it. Jasper's teachings are proving a detriment in this case. Myrcella knew better than to confront Tommen about it. No boy wanted their sister to intervene in the matters of the heart and then he would be more suspicious of her actions. No, it's better to be delicate about it. She had singers sing songs of forbidden love or fierce northern maidens in the Halls of the Eyrie. She told stories to Alyssa, whom told her favorite uncle every word. It planted the seeds in Tommens mind even if he wished to deny it. Happy little seeds that would solve all of their problems. All she required was getting Lady Arya down to the Eyrie and Myrcella was confident Tommen would have a new betrothed by the end of her stay.

Lord Robert Arryns' wedding to Lady Jaina Redfort provided the perfect excuse.

"Checkmate." Myrcella said whispered before clutching her throbbing temples.

Sansa was never great at cyvasse. Maybe one day they could be friends again and could be a better teacher? I would really like that. Still, Myrcella couldn't permit Sansa to remain as Tommens future Queen. I shall not have a threat to my husband or children wear a crown. Sansa was like a weed in her garden and needed to be removed.

A weed is a bit mean. Myrcella thought, appalled. A beautiful invasive plant that needs to be potted up and transported to a different garden to flourish with other beautiful plants.

Sansa would find a nice, charming husband and have many adorable little children. Just not with my Tommen. Hopefully, it would be far away in the North, away from the Royal Court.

The door creaked open. "I said-" Myrcella let out a high-pitched shriek and disappeared underneath the sheets. Her handsome Jasper was at the door, and it quickened her heart. A nightmare come to life. He can't see me like this! So sloppy!

"Myrcella? My silly wife get out from underneath there."

"Please go away. I look disgusting!"

"You are sick. I care not how you look." Jasper said and sat beside her. Myrcella could see his broad form underneath the covers. He carried a platter of something as he sat down by her bedside table. "Now come out this instant." He commanded with a stern voice, but she heard the concern underneath it. Why are you here? Why did you end your trip early?

Myrcella came out shyly and promptly sneezed. "Sorry Jasper! I'm so sorry." It struck him straight in his handsome face.

"Tis fine." He wiped it away.

"Please Jasper, could you go? I wish you not to see me like this."

Jasper snorted. "I've seen worse." And squeezed her hands when she refused to meet his gaze. "It would hurt more to stay away." He remembered the words she used against him all of those years ago when they were young youths in Kings Landing. Myrcella looked up and Jasper winked. How long ago that was and Jasper still remembers. She swooned into his chest. It was warm and safe. It was a pleasant place to be, even if she felt gross.

"I love you." Myrcella whispered.

"Only because I brought you soup." His voice was incredibly dry, the sarcasm of a soldier. The thick sweet soup made of pumpkins smelled wonderful. Her favorite soup. "And a Blue Lilly. They are in bloom."

Myrcella's nose wriggled. "That's not why, Jasper, but it was very sweet of you." She giggled as she took one to her chest and admired it.

When he commanded her to open her mouth, she complied without complaint, and he fed her several delicious gulps. It warmed her from head to toe until she was dizzy with warmth. Then he pressed her down and wrapped her snugly in thick blankets until she was cocooned and she pouted. "Jasper, I want your arms, not blankets. Please hold me."

"Well, what If I like you like this?" He rubbed his chin. "I see the advantages of this."

"Jasper!" She whined. "Don't tease me."

"Should I be frightened of teasing you?"

Her nose wriggled madly.

He chuckled before bringing her to his chest. And she was very content. "I took down the white hart." Jasper told her. "I shall have the pelt for you shortly. It was only a light jaunt. Arrow did most of the work though, like always." His small smile twisted into a frown. "And I come back to my princess being unwell. You will get well. That's my command." His face hardened as if she were a foe in the yard, but he was a soft boy at heart. He was only worried about her and she struggled not to giggle.

"Yes, husband." Myrcella agreed. A hint of mischief on her mind as she batted her eyes shyly. "A hug would make me feel better." And it would make you feel better! Her husband needed more hugs! It was really sad no one hugged him as a boy. Jasper loved them even if he wouldn't admit it.

"If it shall make you feel better, I suppose. It's practical, you know." He waved a finger, trying to get his point across. "I'm being practical." As if one hug would make him less a martial man. Jasper was a silly man. She fought the urge to roll her eyes.

Myrcella hugged him tightly, and he surrendered easily. I win! Both of us win! And those were the best victories. Eventually her dutiful husband had to leave her to fulfill his responsibilities as Lord of the Eyrie. He needed to do his job in keeping them all safe by fulfilling his role. Our roles protect us. Normally when he left she merely kept busy, but there was little for her to do. Maester Colemon came in to give her some medicine for her head. "Oh." He shook his head when he was done. "I forgot, princess. A letter came this morn from Kings Landing for yourself." On the parchment, the wax seal held the grey direwolf of House Stark. Oh Sansa! Who else could it be but her? Maybe she was trying to make amends with her.

My dear Myrcella, I wish to extend to you my deepest confidence that the foul rumors of your involvement in Ser Kevans death are false. I've told everyone around me this I know, you would never sully yourself like that. King Robert's sweet daughter, the golden doe of the realm. You are above such murderous tricks, but you know that. I wouldn't pay these rumors any mind. Just mindless drivel of those with active imaginations. Though it seems to have spread to every corner of court, you know how it is, but it's just gossip. I know you aren't a kinslayer. You would have told me of the misdeed. We are such good friends after all, as close as sisters.

Your friend Sansa a future Queen of the realm

Her hands were shaking by the end.

Ser Kevans coughing up blood on the velvet carpet flashed before her. Kinslayer! Dirty! Once more, it reared its ugly head in her life. She had not thought about it in years, and now it roared to life. What if her babes heard about this? No they won't hear about it. Her and Jasper would see to that. She couldn't breathe and curled up, shuddering, before rising from the bed and paced around the floor. Cheeks flushed with embarrassment and fury as she yanked on a single strand of hair pulling on it as she thought about the irksome thought. Why would it come now? Someone did this to her. It was a calculated act designed to humiliate her and break her resolve. And it would not work she stopped playing with her hair. I'm a princess and I shall not be bullied.

Myrcella read the letter again, and Sansas words were hardly so sweet. You did this! It was you! Unkind thoughts flashed in her mind. I shall rip you apart root and stem and leave you for the crows and rabbits. A plan would not come tonight while she was off balanced and emotional, for it would likely be too spiteful and would not be beneficial for her little babes and her family. A temporary pause, but she was going to get the last laugh. Myrcella vowed. "Future Queen." She huffed in annoyance. "You'll be the queen of nothing. You wanted a war, well, you have one now."

You never should have played Sansa.

I'm better than you at this.

Sansa

Martyn escorted her up the steps. Their arms were entangled. He had grown from a boy into a young man with a thick mop of Lannister blond hair. Though the hair was coarse, unlike Prince Tommens delicate strands and his face was more plain. Still, he was handsome enough. And his brooding expression held a few admirers amongst the ladies of court. "Do I have your favor, my lady?" Martyn asked hopefully. The sullen look he normally wore vanished. A small melee was being held amongst the Knights of the Red Keep, and all the young men wished to compete. She wished it was a Grand Tourney, but father refused to hold them no matter the complaints of the Small Council.

She offered a sweet smile. "Of course Martyn. I'm sure you shall fight gallantly."

His gaze lingered for a moment too long on her chest, but Sansa didn't mind. It's only a look. And nothing would come of it. She was kind to him when he first arrived a hostage for his family's crimes and Martyn had developed a small crush. She was very beautiful, as everyone always said. It made him very useful. He would serve on Tommens Small Council when Crown Prince Tommen took up the Crown of his father and Martyn would do as she said. She thanked the Old Gods and the New she convinced her father to keep Martyn in court and send the Frey boy away instead. He was a bad influence on Martyn. Bran would be Hand even if she had to browbeat him into doing it, Martyn as Master of Coin, bringing the Lannisters into the fold, Uncle Edmure would remain as Master of Laws. Barristan the Old would pass one day and her brother Jon would be the ideal Lord Commander. Four allies, three by blood, and one by desire, and the Small Council would be a sweet friend to her. Cousin Jasper would leave without an office to take up and would drag his meddlesome wife back to the Eyrie and Sansa wouldn't have to stomach her manipulations. There would be no one left to challenge her.

I'll be the Queen.

"I shall, my lady. Mayhaps you could save a lemon cake for myself?"

Sansa giggled. "I shall brave ser on my honor as a Stark."

Tomard and Haryn held guard and offered nods of greeting. The grey cloaks of House Stark was always a welcoming sight to see. Maybe I shall convince my husband to turn the Gold Cloaks into the Grey Cloaks. Many of the commanders were Northman, anyway. Grey was by far superior to crimson red or gold. Her guests arrived in short order. Jeyne Cassel, her oldest friend. Lady Rykker, a buxom woman with a quick jape. Cerenna Tully, her Uncles Lannister wife. A quiet thing with an irksome laugh, but Sansa would never slight her. It would be a slight against House Tully, her mother's house. Once Wylla attended to her, but she was Robbs' wife now. Few Northern Ladies ventured to the capital, preferring Winterfell to Kings Landing. That'll change once they see the wealth that could be earned. They would seize all the offices and honors of court. It is what we are owed for years of service.

She greeted them with kisses on the cheeks and brief hugs. Compliments flowed from her lips easily that had everyone smiling as the servants provided the lemon cakes and cups of simmering hot tea. A few musicians played some soft tunes for them. Sansa listened intently. I always had the best pick of singers being the Regents daughter and the future queen. Once when she was a girl, she begged her father to bring a singer to Winterfell, but no one ever came up the Kingsroad. Here she was drowning in talented singers and performers. All of them were tripping over themselves to play for her. And the songs would never stop. It shall always be summer here.

Lady laid demurely beside her. She had grown a little fat and laid around in the sun most days. My lazy girl. She scratched behind the ear and fed her some scones from the table. Everyone always complimented how well behaved she acted.

"I think Ser Jory shall win the day." Jeyne declared. "This is his hour."

Lady Rykker snorted. "Oh dear. You only think that because he's your husband." The irksome laugh of Lady Cerenna filled the room. It bled the ears, but Sansa only smiled.

"I'm sure Ser Jory shall perform well." Sansa said. "He is the Captain of my fathers guard." She finished with a little bite. He's a Stark man and is beyond critique. And everyone in the room understood that and quickly chimed in agreement with her. Though she thought Ser Donnel Waynwood was the likeliest to win among the participants. He lived the sword like a true knight of the Vale.

"Enough about men and their swords." Lady Rykker said, leaning forward. "What do you think about Princess Myrcellas scandal? She clearly had a hand in Ser Kevans death or so my sister tells me. Everyone is saying so." Varys, her precious spider, was earning his keep in spreading the truth to every corner of court. It would humiliate Princess Myrcella and punish her for her monstrous behavior, and she deserved it. This is merely the consequence of her actions.

"You must have something on Princess Myrcella! Some secret I can use against her!" The Godswood proved a perfect place to meet with a spider.

Varys giggled. "Oh, and what has happened between you and the princess? Another quarrel?" His eyes were far too inquisitive, as if he were in charge. It made her skin crawl. She was going to be queen, not him.

She narrowed her eyes as tight as arrow slits. "It doesn't matter! You want your position to remain when I marry Prince Tommen? You'll do as I say."

"My lady is harsh to a small spider of the night." He sighed. "But I know something."

"Tell me." Sansa winced at the desperation in her voice.

Varys made no comment. "Our sweet princess played a hand in the murder of Ser Kevan. She delivered the poison to his lips. A kinslayer, how dreadful."

Sansa gasped. "And you never told my father!" It all made sense she was a wreck for weeks, but that was likely just an act to get Jasper Arryn to lower his guard to stick her sweet claws into him.

"Oh, I told him." Varys smiled. "But he believed in the sweet princess tale that she was an innocent lamb. Lord Eddard Stark wished to spare her the dishonor."

It was very foolish of her father to believe the lies from that false creature. His honor made him blind to the manipulative girl. She tried to ruin me and she turned Tommen against her. And was a clear enemy to House Stark. It was her doing placing those threats in Tommens lips. Jeyne agreed with her when she told her what had trespassed in Winterfell, that she was to blame. "Prince Tommen would never have said something so vile unless prodded, too." Though his threats made her shiver at night. I like killing my enemies Sansa. Don't become one. It reminded her of Joffrey and the terrible day on the Trident where she held Brans lifeless body, but everyone said Tommen was kind and was Brans closest friend. A gallant prince like Prince Aemon the DragonKnight, nothing like his drunkard of a father or a villain of a brother. Sansa knew he was only pretending to be vicious. And they were hardly foes. It was his sister to blame. Once I cow her into submission, everything will go back to normal. When a lady grew defiant, she humiliated them in court and they always came groveling back to her. And she always forgave them if they did it well.

Arya would influence Prince Tommen to see the light along with Bran. Two of his closest friends speaking the truth and he would understand. They'll both do it for House Stark. They were going to win this game and devour the spoils.

Jeyne swallowed her food and added her voice to the fray. "Like daughter, like mother. She is just as rotten as Queen Cersei!"

Sansa shot her a nod of approval. "Well, I suppose it's true what they say. The apple rarely falls far from the tree."

"So you think it's true?" Lady Rykker smirked. "Well, isn't that something? You were close friends with her once. I suppose you would know."

"Yes." Sansa smiled. "Poor girl is as mad as her mother. It is in her blood. My poor cousin having to deal with her." Her hand fell to her breast in mock concern. "But I suppose he's used to it, given his mad mother. Maybe he likes that sort of thing?" She laughed lightly and smirked. Lady Lysa had tried to kill Robb once. She was a foul woman with a wicked mind. "And we all know the crimes Queen Cersei committed. Why wouldn't the daughter?" Everyone giggled and laughed with her, but she didn't hear the irksome laugh from Lady Cerenna. Lady lifted her head up, sensing her displeasure as she twirled the contents in her teacup. "Do you disagree, Cerenna?" And Lady trotted over a subtle threat.

The woman reddened and shook her head quickly. "Of course not Lady Sansa. My mind wandered is all." At least lie better, dear. She mused, but Sansa said nothing. It wasn't open defiance, and she still understood the social order within court. Sansa praised her on the lovely silk dress she wore well, and the diamond necklace around her neck. It earned a more compliant smile. Lady returned to her side and laid her head back down and Sansa gave her another treat. Good girl. All throughout the court people were talking about it and she knew Myrcella wouldn't wish to leave her room once it reached the Eyrie.

A servant was busy brushing her hair as she prepared for dinner with father. The events of the teatime had faded from her mind. "Your father has summoned you to the Tower of the Hand, my lady." Jory informed.

"For what matter? It's not time for dinner."

"He did not say." Jory sounded apologetic.

Sansa thanked him for doing his duty well.

When she was ushered into fathers solar, it was hard to hold his gaze without wincing. The realm had not been kind to him. His face had grown gaunt from stress and sleepless nights. Long wrinkles covered his forehead and cheeks as if he were an old man. He only needs to hold on a little longer than he could rest in Winterfell. She begged for him to rest more, but he always rebuffed her. Father's voice was hoarse as he leaned on his cane. It took some effort to rise. "Sit Sansa." The impersonal voice startled her. He never used that tone with her as if she was some convict.

"Yes, father." Sansa replied dutifully. Hands rested on top of her lap. She showcased perfect posture.

"Please tell me, sweetling, that you did not breathe legitimacy to these rumors swirling around the court." Rumors. Sansa wanted to scoff. The truth you mean. But she wouldn't admit to that or he would ruin everything.

She took a moment before responding. "Oh, I was merely speculating with a few friends. Mayhaps I misspoke?" She granted graciously. "I was not representing House Stark publicly, father."

"Do you wish to stick with this story?" Father asked stoically. His eyes pierced her like a blade as she wilted lightly, but she was no longer a little girl and held his gaze.

"Yes, father." Sansa replied evenly. None of my ladies told on me. They know better. He knows nothing concrete.

Father sighed and looked disappointed. "Poor girl is as mad as her mother. It is in her blood." He said, and her jaw nearly dropped. "You didn't say that?" Sansa knew better than to deny it. "Why would you say that, Sansa?" The better question was who told on her? It couldn't have been any of her ladies. Mayhaps one of the servants? They always felt comfortable to talk with her father about any matters. I shall find this traitor.

"It seemed what everyone else was saying." Sansa said, head lowered. "I was just saying what I thought everyone wanted me to say. I don't believe in it." She lied.

"And yet you said it." His face disappeared into his hands for a long moment. "I'm disappointed Sansa. Very disappointed. You are going to say otherwise tomorrow before the courtroom."

Sansa bristled.

"She will be your sister by law. You don't slight her merely for the approval of lords and ladies."

"But my reputation! You can't make me do this." She seethed. Mother never would have let father do this to me. She would understand what I'm doing.

Father rose without his cane, towering over her. It made her eyes go wide. "You will do this Sansa. You will heed my command."

Sansa flinched at his tone and nodded her head. "Yes, father. I promise."

For a moment, he looked like his old self, an authoritative Lord of Winterfell. The strong man who Sansa once believed would keep them safe from anything. Though for them, his eyes were always kind. They were kinder than any knight of song. When she was a girl he had given her rides on his shoulders. The powerful image of her father died before her as he collapsed on the ground, unmoving. The argument they had was so petty it vanished from her mind. She ran to his side. "Father!" She screamed. "Father!" She shook him, trying to rouse him, but he wouldn't move. "Guards! Guards!" She cried out. Her face buried into his chest. "Get up, father. Get up." She begged him, but he wouldn't move. Why wasn't he moving? He needed to be okay. Please be fine, father. I don't want you to die. Jory had to drag her away, tears streaming down her cheeks as they tended to him.

Authors note: Alright, that was a long chapter! We are getting closer to the end of this Act. Another 11 chapters assuming everything goes right we should be able to wrap this section of the story up! And move on to the final leg of the story! Next up we are going to see Bran on the Isles of the Gods, Arya at Bear Island, and good old Tywin will make another appearance. I have other good news I've been working on other POVs in advance so hopefully the next couple of updates will be faster. Fingers crossed!

Also I've released another fic on this site A Rhaegar Wins AU. I've already posted the first two chapters. The Savior of Ice and Fire. It's a lot of fun and I'm enjoying writing in that sandbox and to give my twist on it. Check it out if you guys want too. As always thank you for the comments love reading and replying to them.

Guest: Thanks I try my best!

ATP: I'm sure their fates will be reveleaed soon. Yep, the Reach seems to be on Faegon side don't they? I wonder about Dorne aswell.

Masterof DragonsGod: You nailed it! Good old Aegon.

Mthatha SA: I feel ya man I've put Jasper through the ringer and yeah the guy himself is certainly stressed got all that wartime guilt/ PTSD and a bunch of children and wards to care over. I'll admit he has taken a small backstep in the story cause I have to set everything else up. But you got a Jasper POV in this chapter and you get to see more of his family dynamics. Yep, happy moments and sad moment swirl together in this story.

skippyfromtechsupport: Well, the Tyrells and the Lannisters both have an incentive to kill her right? But also both have worse reputations due to their hands in everything. If Cersei dies both sides might blame the other and who knows who Ned would side with. And for her extents and purposes she is punished out of side and out of mind in the most backward covent in the middle of no where in the Riverlands.

JimmyBob2: These are valid questions and I'll explain my arguments for them. 1.) Everyone in Winterfell knew about Bran climbing from the guards that chased him off the walls, Luwin that tried to desuade him, Cat, Robb, Theon etc. Everyone knew I don't think it's unthinkable Jasper heard it and forbade it cause it was unseemly and Bran wanting to be a knight wanted to making a good impression obeyed.2.) I mean Jon is a bastard and a slight on his aunts honor and he spilled wine over him in the middle of the feast. Jasper assumed the worse and reacted with vitriol. It wasn't smart politically, but it was a human moment. 3.) Robert doesn't care about the Wall. He ignores Ned when he tries to talk about it. Robert is a guy that never really met Jon cause they hid him away, and once he saw a young Ned like guy fighting in the courtyard he wanted him to come south because its Neds son and Robert is a manchild that takes what he wants. And what a king wants a king gets. Now, some of these things like Jon running into Jasper you could argue is a bit contrived, but their is a new guy in Winterfell their should be changes. Things shouldn't stay the same. I believe canon should be changed when you have a new actor on the stage. It would be really boring and conservative otherwise. Thank you for the questions though!

Guest: Thank you for your imput. Hope you have a good day.