Chapter 2:

The council room seemed empty now. Over the years, she had grown accustom to accompanying her father to many of the council meetings he held every week when he began to give her small tasks to complete for him. There are different ways to battle a war, his voice echoed in her brain.

Now standing in the room, which suddenly seemed a lot bigger than before, she felt wary for the coming days. With no Hand, who will run the kingdom? Not Varys and Baelish I hope.

"Where is Stannis?" she inquired to no one in particular.

"Gone. Run away, who knows. That bastard," replied his younger brother Renly. With Robert on the throne, his two brothers Stannis and Renly had taken the back seat over the years, letting their king bask in the victorious glory while they were busy fighting to keep his throne. Isabel knew they resented Robert for it, but it was Robert who stood up against the Mad King during the rebellion and it was Robert who won the throne.

She looked over to the empty chair that her father once sat in, and let out a sigh. Petyr observing the young girl, followed her gaze and smirked at her. "Thinking of taking over your father's role Isabel? I've heard that chair in particular is quite comfortable. Not as...sharp as the Iron Throne."

She glared back at Petyr Baelish but said nothing in return. Sometimes, he wasn't worth her breathe. She took her usual spot, which was at the end of the table beside Lord Varys. Her father had given her regular task to record notes during the council meetings to which she had taken pride in over the years. As her father grew older, and herself a little wiser, he began to entrust Isabel on diplomatic missions on behalf of the Hand, allowing her to travel throughout Kings Landing and its neighbouring cities. She had once even made it all the way to Casterly Rock, much to her own displeasure. Nonetheless, the lessons she learned from the King's Council taught her how to play the game.

And it also taught her never to trust anyone.

Lord Varys cast a sideways glance at her, which she caught in the corner of her eye. They said nothing to each other, but he gave her the slightest of nods, an indication that his meeting last night went undisturbed and assumingly well.

"The King wishes to travel for Winterfell as early as tomorrow," said Renly.

"The King hasn't been to Winterfell for nearly a decade. What business does he have there?" asked Maester Pycelle.

"Robert and Ned Stark were both like sons to Jon Arryn. No doubt to grieve with his old friend."

"A new Hand perhaps? We all know Robert has gotten rather…paranoid over the years. All those lions dancing around his feet all these years…he needs a trusted friend here at the Red Keep."

"Ned would never leave Winterfell. He did it twice, he won't do it again," mused Petyr Baelish.

"Ned Stark is an honourable man. Free from corruption and ambition. Perhaps that's what the King needs. What he doesn't need is Jamie Lannister or his father in this council room." Isabel offered.

"Ah, Ned Stark is a rare specimen. But honour never got you very far in the South, and it most certainly doesn't keep you alive in King's Landing."

"It's the King's decision nonetheless," Renly stated. "Knowing the pompous bastard he is, he's making it a grand affair. He's taking the entire family, Lannisters and all with half of his men on his adventure. Cersei's not too happy about it, but she must do what the king says."

Petyr let out a small chuckle. "Bring the lions into the wolf's den…does he intend to start a war? It will be an expensive journey, but I'll finance the coin. Don't you worry."

"Will you be joining the travels Isabel?"

"Why would I be going to Winterfell?" she questioned.

"Lady Catelyn Stark is your step-mother's sister, and Ned Stark was fostered at the Eyrie with Jon. And let's not forget you were once betrothed to their eldest son up until only a few years ago. Seems to me like you're practically family with the Starks. I'm sure Robert wouldn't mind," Petyr mused.

"Well," she began trying her hardest not to lash out at the Master of the Coin. "I didn't know my personal life was up for discussion amongst the King's Council."

"Oh please don't take offense my Lady, I was only suggesting that it seemed fitting to grieve with the ones who knew Jon the most. A loss like this is hard on anyone, let alone such a fine lady like yourself. You need to be with people who can comfort, unlike the vultures here."

Before Isabel could lash out anymore, Maester Pycelle broke their growing argument. "It seems like the decision has already been made. Cersei has already requested Isabel to accompany her. Her children aren't used to long journeys, and she'll need another hand to help her."

Isabel folded her arms in frustration. "She has her septas for that. I'm not their babysitter."

Maester Pycelle gave her an earnest look that made Isabel feel like a small child being scolded. They both knew they could not deny a request for Cersei, not matter how much she put up a fight.

"And I expect you to send your reports on the King's proceedings," suggested Varys.

"Among other things," muttered Renly.

"Ah! So I must babysit the King as well?"

"Yes," stated Petyr Baelish.

Having had enough of Littlefinger's mind games, she abruptly stood from her seat and gathered her books and proceeded out of the room, excusing herself from the rest of the meeting. I am not a king sitter, she said to herself.

Ah! But my child, it's all apart of the game, whispered a voice. Play this game and you shall be rewarded.

She sat perfectly still as her mother brushed her brunette hair which was now growing past her mid-back. She would do this everyday as far back as she could remember, every morning and every night. Her mother, gentle and loving would whisper sweet words into her ears.

"My lovely child, what a beautiful lady you will grow up to be one day," she mused.

"Will I be as beautiful as you?" the innocent child asked. "Will I have my own daughter whose hair I can brush everyday?"

The mother smiled. "Of course darling! Perhaps you will have more than one daughters and perhaps sons as well."

"Father says when I'm old enough I'm to marry the young Lord Stark," she said quietly.

"You seem unhappy, my child. Robb Stark is a strong and smart boy, not much older than yourself. His father was like a son to your own father."

"He smells like grass and he put a bug in my hair," she stated, remembering that only a week earlier she had just returned from Winterfell with her father to stay with the Stark family.

Her mother chuckled. "I'd assume all boys smell like soil and grass at this age."

"Why can't I stay with you? Why must I accompany father to King's Landing?"

"It's what all little ladies do at your age. You have to leave and learn how to be a lady on your own. You'll be a stronger woman that way."

"Like you?" she asked hopefully.

"Yes, like me. And perhaps one day, you will defend the Vale like your father with honour and justice."

"I heard some say that I could never be like father, because I'm a girl. They say girls aren't suppose to lead men or ride into battles and fight wars."

The mother turned her daughter around and looked straight into her eyes. "You are a trueborn Arryn. You are your father's daughter, and heir to the Arryn titles and lands. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

The raven arrived at dusk, just as Ned Stark's party was returning to Winterfell after bringing his sons to witness a deserter's execution. It was Bran's first one and Ned was initially reluctant to let the boy see such atrocities at such a young age. But he knew it was time for the young boy to grow up, just like his elder brothers Robb and Jon. Sooner or later, he realized, they would all become men of the North.

His sons took no time wasting as they ran off to find their sisters to show them their new pets. Six direwolf pups had been found on their way back, and Bran had asked to keep them. Ned had an uneasy feeling about the whole thing. Was it a good sign from the gods? Were they meant to be protectors for the long winter ahead?

Maester Luwen arrived to meet Ned, just as he dismounted off his horse. "My Lord," he said. "I trust things went well. I couldn't notice you've brought home more than just yourselves."

They both looked over to the six direwolves that had now caught the attention of a small crowd. "Their mother was slain."

Maester Luwen took out a letter and handed it to Ned with a solemn look on his face, "I'm sorry my Lord. I'm afraid its not good news."

Ned took a silent gulp, dreading for the worst. He carefully unrolled the small scroll and read each word carefully as its meaning sunk in his heart. He closed his eyes in disbelief, and then reread the letter to confirm the news. "Jon Arryn is dead."

"A fever took him…but he was not strong enough to survive it," said Maester Luwen.

"Does Catelyn know?"

"Yes, my Lord. She is writing to her sister to express her condolences. But there's more," he added.

Ned looked up, unsure of what other news could be worse than to here that the man who practically raised him was now dead. Master Luwen took out another scroll and handed it over. Ned quickly skimmed it and pursed his lips. "King Robert and his party have set for Winterfell?"

"It seems like we'll be entertaining the entire King's court very soon."

"What is it father?" a voice broke out.

The two older men looked towards the door and saw Robb holding his wolf in his arms. Ned gave him a small smile. Just looking at his son reminded of his own time when he was forced to become a man. After his brother and father were murdered by the Mad King, it didn't take long for a young Ned Stark to avenge his family's honour and become a true man that his father would have been proud of. Though he wanted so badly for Robb to become a strong and just man of honour, he would never want Robb to witness the war and injustice that Ned fought against during the Rebellion. No boy should ever have to live through those dark times.

"The king is coming to Winterfell," he told his son. "..and it looks like Isabel Arryn is amongst the party."

He waited for a reaction from Robb's face at the mention of her name. For a small second, he saw his son's eyes light up, but he was quick to mask his emotions from his father. He cleared his throat, "What business does the King have here at Winterfell?"

"Jon Arryn has passed away. Why the king journeys here…I don't know," he replied truthfully.

"And Isabel? Why is she coming to Winterfell?" he asked, though Ned could sense a hint of bitterness in son's voice.

"The letter doesn't mention anything else," he simply said and handed his son the letter. He watched his son's eyes skim its contents, and not once did his face give any emotion away. It's been a little over four years since their engagement was broken, surely the resentment must have past, Ned pondered.

Robb handed back the letter to his father, "It sounds like they've already left King's Landing...they'll be here by the next full moon. It doesn't give us much time for us to prepare for their arrival."

Maester Luwen stepped forward and bowed his head, "I'll get started right away, my Lord."

The older Stark took his son by the arm and led him towards the Great Hall, and waited until they were alone. "You're taking her visit rather well I think," Ned observed.

Robb hesitated to answer and was slightly taken back at the sudden interest that his father had in Isabel Arryn. "I didn't expect to ever see her again. She made that pretty clear the last time she wrote to me," he replied truthfully.

"That was a long time ago," his father replied. "Times have changed, people grow up. Perhaps things will be different between the two of you."

"Why do I get the feeling you're still think there's still hope between us?" Robb asked suspiciously.

His father put up his hands in defeat and stifled a chuckle. "You two were inseparable as children. I don't believe that whatever happened is just gone. I'm sure she had reasons in breaking the betrothal, and now the gods have given you a second chance to mend things."

"Bloody hell, you're worse than mother."