Chapter 9:

Seeking an audience with the king was not a difficult task. With a new Hand to run his kingdom, King Robert was in a joyful mood – something King's Landing had not seen in quite awhile. She had arrived in King's Landing two days earlier, feeling eager, restless and, nervous. She was tired, for sleep did not welcome her during the nights, and her worries would often plague her mind during the day.

It would only be until the King's verdict which would put her mind at ease.

She stood in the throne room, amongst the other nobles, knights and courtiers would were there for the same reason – to seek the King and ask for his favour and support. She had often seen King Robert turn away even the simplest request, seen him fly into a fit of rage and seen him offer his support – it all depended on his mood.

He came strolling in with a sweat on his brow near high noon and sat on the Iron Throne, rather impatiently. He stared out into the hall, his stare penetrating to those that gathered to seek his audience and roaring to his servant to fetch him a cup of strong wine.

Isabel waited patiently, but could not help control the constant fidgeting in her hands. She clasped them together in a failed effort to calm herself, only leading to her nails digging into her skin in anticipation.

"So who's first?" he roared out, startling her.

One by one, commoners, nobles and knights spoke out for their various causes, hoping to seek favour from King Robert. Most of them were rejected, while others were publicly insulted by the king, and only a handful were granted their wishes. As the hours went out, and the hall diminished in size, she took a deep breathe, and stepped in front of the remaining audience.

"Your Grace," she called out, as she unconsciously straightened her posture and held her chin up high.

An amused glint appeared in the King's eyes, as he took another large gulp from his cup. "Isabel Arryn, daughter of one of my most loyal and trusted friend, Jon Arryn" he called out, "What business do you have with your King?"

She hesitated for a moment, suddenly incapable of speaking. She began to doubt herself, slowly losing confidence in her ability to voice her cause.

Never cower in the face of the shadows, a voice reassured. I am right here, with you always. Remember? You and me.

She gulped in silence, and pushed all her fears away. "I've come here in need of your blessing and support, your Grace," she began slowly. "With my father gone, the responsibility of the Eyrie and the Vale has now fallen on the shoulders of my brother, Robert Arryn…a mere child with no knowledge of this world, nor the strength to fight it. The Lady Lysa Arryn, my father's wife now rules as regent in his name."

The King gave a loud grunt. "What does this have to do with me?"

"I have just returned from the Vale, and the lords of my father's sworn houses have seen fit to declare my brother unfit to rule as Defender of the Vale, and Warden of the East. They have no faith in the Lady Lysa Arryn's judgment, and they fear she will bring them to ruin. Instead, they have pledged support to me to rule in his stead….and now I ask you with great humility to ask for your support as well. A King's dispensation would avoid all necessary conflict."

King Robert looked at her as if she was the most foolish person in the room. His glare made her feel insignificant and like a young girl being scolded. "A woman who wants to rule," he mused. "You should speak to my wife, the queen…something you two have in common."

Isabel pursed her lips, but remained silent and patiently waited for the king's judgment. She stole a glance to the King's right, and caught Jamie Lannister smirking at her, as if he was mocking her.

"Tell me, why should I take away your brother's birthright?"

"For my father," she stated quietly, "it was his one wish, his dream, as well as my mother's…to have me rule."

"And what makes you think you can rule the Vale? What makes you think you can call your father's houses and ride into battle when the King commands it?"

"With all due respect your Grace, I have done battle every day of my life since living in this city. I may not have battled with steel, but I have battled and fought with words…and in my experience, words are often more dangerous than steel."

"Spoken like a true politician," he commented, "I see you've taken some cues from my Master of Coin."

A tense silence engulfed the room, as the king sat on his Iron Throne pondering his decision. Isabel bit the inside of her cheek to rid herself of the nerves which were creeping into her body until she was sure she had drawn blood.

The King shifted in his seat, and once away called for his cup to be refilled. She saw Lancel Lannister, the Queen's cousin run from his spot and quickly poured the King another glass before stumbling back into his place.

"Your father has raised you well…I see no fear in your eyes," he observed. "I loved your father…he was a loyal friend here, and he ruled my lands well. But relinquishing your brother's rights is something…I cannot do."

She thought she had heard wrong and she stood frozen in her spot, "Your Grace…I..I don't understand."

"You stand here asking me for a dispensation. Well, tomorrow, I may see the Frey's in that same spot you stand at asking me to declare their father unfit to rule…and before you know, the entire realm will be at my feet declaring their lords unfit to rule!"

"And…that is your decision then?" she said, forcing herself to swallow her disappointment.

"It is," he commanded. "I know you mean well Isabel, and I would have done anything else for you had you asked it…for the sake of your father. But this is something I will not do."

She didn't know how long she stood there for, but by the time Ser Tommas shook her shoulders to snap her out of shock, the King and his kings guard had disappeared, as well as almost all of the King's court. Isabel looked up at Ser Tommas, who could only offer her sympathy and a leaning shoulder to cry out. She could feel the tears forming, but mentally told herself that crying was useless now.

"I didn't realize that my dreams could be shattered like that," she said quietly. "What am I to do Ser Tommas?"

"We'll find another way, my Lady," he said softly.

They exited the great hall, and Isabel fell into a slow and dazed walk, ignoring her surroundings and the people who would give her curious glances as they passed by. She found herself in the courtyard, and gave leave to Ser Tommas, wanting to be alone for the time. Sitting on the bench underneath the great weirwood tree in the godswood, she closed her eyes and let herself relax.

It was strange that the sacred tree of the Old Faith could give her a sense of serenity. She remembered that Winterfell had one, and Robb would often take her there in their youth. The godswood in Winterfell was bigger in size in comparison to the small enclosure here at the Red Keep, while the Eyrie barely had a godswood at all. The one at the castle was barely used at all since the Faith of the Seven was the dominant belief, leaving Isabel alone in her much needed solitude.

"I have just heard the news," a voice from behind spoke out.

"Word travels quickly," she commented.

The Master of Whispers giggled and took a seat beside her. "Strange that some men still believe these trees still hold some kind of ancient magic," he mused.

"What do you want, Lord Varys?" she asked warily.

"Your cause it not dead yet," he suggested. "There are other ways of reclaiming your father's lands."

"War," she stated. "Without the king's support, I will subject my people to war. Bloodshed is something I did not want."

"Attacking the Eyrie is a most difficult task," he pondered, "You will need men, resources, money, and in the end you may not even succeed."

"Thank you my Lord, for stating the obvious," she sarcastically replied.

"Although, you may have a few options…seeking help from your friends, is a start," he suggested.

"The Lannister? Tyrell? " she asked. "They are not my friends."

"Perhaps then, you should look to the east."

She turned to look at him. She knew he had many friends and contacts across the Narrow Sea, and she knew Targaryen children were being housed at the Magister's estate, for she had served for many years as the messenger between the two men. What she did not know, however, was the nature of their business – something she refused to get herself involved with.

"What do you want," she asked suspiciously.

"Your support, when the time is right," he said cryptically, "and in return, you will get all that you ever desired."

"You forget, it was my father who raised his banners first," she stated.

"Sometimes, enemies can be forged together in times of need…pasts can be forgotten and forgiven, if the end reward is great enough."

"And how does a friendship such as this become certain? What must I give as a sign of loyalty and trust?"

He said nothing, but she already knew the answer. "Marriage," she coldly stated.

"You will get all that you ever wanted, and then some," he said. "Imagine…all the Seven Kingdoms under your rule…as Queen."

"Those are treasonous words you speak," she said cautiously, "you speak to me too boldly sir."

"And yet you do not call the guards to have me arrested," he calmly stated, "you wouldn't have stayed and listened if you didn't think otherwise."

"You are not the first to have suggested such a friendship," she said recalling on the Queen's offer of an alliance.

"Ah…so the Lannisters have already planted their seed. A powerful house to support your cause, but at what price? Surely you know they seek to undermine you and take the Vale for themselves. You are not a foolish woman, Isabel…I think you know what the right decision is. That is…if this is what your truly want."

She looked at her hands, and strangely enough pictured the baby bird in her hands bringing her memories back to Robb Stark. She told him she would never marry for political advancement - she told him she would only marry for love.

And now…her heart was torn in two.

"My heart is not mine to give," she said in barely a whisper to herself.

But Lord Varys was quick to catch her words and he giggled at her sentiment. "Young love…a tempting factor to just forget about everything else you fight for. A Stark alliance would be advantageous…but their strict code of honour would have them support your brother instead."

His words spoke the truth. House Stark were Northern men and followers of the Old Faith and free from all the political intrigue and corruption. They upheld honour above all things – and they would see Robert as the rightful because he was Jon Arryn's firstborn son.

Her hands felt tied, as she tried to come with another solution – one where she could have both worlds. "Why me?" she asked. "You could have asked anybody…what makes you think I can convince my father's bannermen?"

"You are far more powerful than you think, Isabel Arryn. You will have suitors at your feet, not because of love or adoration but because they seek to win your support. You control one of the noblest and powerful armies in the realm, your bloodline is one of the purest in the realm, and your father was one of the most respected men in all the Seven Kingdoms."

"So is that it then? I am just a pawn, in your game?"

"You have much to learn, my dear…that sometimes, you cannot win the game of thrones alone."

It felt strange standing in the room that her father once occupied in the Red Keep. She could almost remember the books and papers that were on his desk and his chest and wardrobe filled with his robes and cloaks. Now all of that was gone, and had seen been replaced with Ned Stark's belongings.

"I hope you're settling here well," she told him.

He gave her a sad smile, showing his displeasure of the Southern court. When she had arrived back in King's Landing a couple of days earlier, she was quickly told by the servants through their gossip in her household about the events that had unfolded after she had parted from them on King's Road. The direwolves had been killed, when Prince Joffrey was allegedly attacked by one of the creatures, which now resulted in the growing tension between the Starks and the Lannisters.

"I had forgotten how harsh this environment can be," he told her truthfully. "I've not been in the south for a very long time."

"You get used to it," she said, "you learn quickly who your enemies are, as well as your friends."

"I have heard that you sought an audience with the King," he stated, "I am sorry his decision unsettled you."

The smile she gave Ned Stark did not reach her eyes. "I'm sure it doesn't surprise you, my Lord. You must think I'm some kind of usurper…taking away my brother's rights."

Ned Stark gently patted her on the back as a way to comfort her. "I know you are disappointed, but your brother is the firstborn son of your father. You may doubt his ability to rule, but he is still young. He has much to learn and see before his time comes. And you, Isabel can help him be the good lord that would make your father proud. Use your strength and knowledge to guide him, not hinder him."

She knew he was trying to reason with her, to give her some peaceful solution to her conflict. But a compromise was not what she desired. The words of Lord Varys were burned into her mind, and the rising temptation of his offer became more and more desirable.

"You are a man of honour my Lord, a rare trait in most men I meet in this court," she said.

He chuckled, and walked back to his desk and sat down as he proceeded to sift through some scrolls and documents. The images of her father in that very chair doing the same tasks brought a warm smile to her face, as she remembered the moments when she'd run into his room and jump up on his lap, disrupting whatever work Jon Arryn was doing.

A glint at the corner of her eye caught her attention, as the sun was reflected on an object which was hidden underneath a scroll of papers on Ned's desk. The hilt was slightly sticking out in plain view, and Isabel noticed the beautiful carvings of dragonbone, and the jewels that were adorned on it.

He caught her staring at, and quickly moved it from sight. "That's a pretty blade," she observed. "Dragonbone…a rare find, if I do say so myself. Was it a gift?"

"Surely, you must have heard through the gossip around here," he hesitantly began, "that someone had tried to kill my son after we had left Winterfell…that someone tried to murder my child?"

She nodded and remained silent. "This dagger was used by the assassin," he stated.

Her hand went to its hilt and she pulled it out of its hiding place. The steel felt heavy to the touch, a pleasant surprise since Valyrian steel was known for its lightness. The jewels reflected fiercely in the sun, and the colours shone brightly, illuminating the room with its reflections.

"Lord Baelish claimed he had lost it in a bet to Tyrion Lannister," he said.

"Petyr?" she asked in surprised. His name seems to be a popular discussion nowadays.

"Yes, Lord Baelish has offered me to help track down this assassin," he replied.

She looked at Ned Stark suspiciously, and suddenly wondered why a man so devoted to his family would travel so far south to become the new Hand of the King. Why would a man so naïve of the political workings of King's Landing would risk his family's happiness?

"Why...are you really here?" she asked,

Ned Stark removed the dagger from Isabel's hands and placed it back in its hiding place. He turned around and looked out the window and let out a huge breathe. "I don't believe that your father's death was an accident," he suggested.

"What have you heard?"

"Your step-mother gave me reason to believe that Jon was murdered because he knew something…something so dark that the Lannisters had him poisoned. I believe Bran discovered the same secret, and was pushed off that tower," he said quietly.

"Those are dangerous words you speak, my Lord. I did not think anyone else knew of this secret," she said cautiously.

"You too, have also come to think your father was murdered?"

"I didn't want to believe it my Lord," she told him truthfully, "but seeing the Lady Arryn's reaction when I inquired about it…she had fear in her eyes."

Isabel was careful not to mention the letter her step-mother had sent during her visit in Winterfell – a desperate attempt by Lysa Arryn to scare off Isabel. She secretly hoped that it was be a forgotten memory, and no one would ever mention those dark allegations ever again.

"I must caution you, Lord Stark…Petyr Baelish is not the most trusting person in this city," she said truthfully.

"Is anybody in the city worthy of the word?" he asked.

She gave him a grim smile. "No, I don't suppose there is."

"I am wary of his nature too, but I must admit…he has been most helpful as of late."

Her suspicions of Petyr Baelish grew increasingly by the moment, and she made a mental note to herself that she would find out what he was up to. It was far too a coincidence that he had somehow meddled his way into everything.

"Did your father…say anything to you before he died? Did he act strangely?" Ned inquired.

Isabel thought for some moment, trying to recall the last few weeks when her father was still alive. "He was more paranoid than usual I suppose…I noticed he wasn't getting much sleep. I thought it was because the kingdom was about to fall apart. I noticed he grew weary at everybody…became more distrusting."

"Did he say anything before he died?"

"It was hard...watching him slip away from this realm. He called for my mother…called for his father…but I remember he kept saying…'the seed is strong', over and over again until Maester Pycelle gave him the milk of poppy to ease the pain."

"Maester Pycelle? Was not Maester Coleman treating your father?"

"Well, he was…but the Grand Maester claimed his treatments were not working. My brother had another seizure around then, so Maester Pycelle offered to looked after my father while Maester Coleman attended to my brother."

Ned Stark did not respond, and pursed his lips in concentration, letting the information sink in. Isabel had not noticed the changes in her father's behaviour prior to him falling ill, and she now regretted not recognizing the danger her father was in.

"I wish I knew," she whispered, "Had I known…I would have helped him…I would have taken the burden off from him. But he liked to keep things from me; he always said he was protecting me. Why didn't he let me protect him, for once?"

"It's a father's job to protect their children from the dangers in this world, even if it means sacrificing their own life. Isabel, it's not your fault. Do not blame yourself for something you could not have foreseen. I will get to the bottom of this. I promise you, I will find your father's murderer and bring him to justice."

A/N: Ahhaa...the plot thickens!

What is Varys up to? Will Isabel have proper vengeance against Jon Arryn's murder? What choices will she have to face when war breaks out? Will Robb and Isabel be able to hold on to each other, or will their quest for revenge and power consume one another?

Dear readers, you just have to wait and see :) :) xoxo