Chapter 18:
Her return to King's Landing was coolly welcomed by the suspicious eyes that roamed the halls of the castle. Unfamiliar eyes looked at her with uneasiness, and everywhere Isabel looked, she saw Lannister men everywhere. She was given no guards of her own, no ladies or servants. Everywhere she went, she was sure that some Lannister spy was following her and reporting her every move to the Queen.
It was like a glorified prison, and every passing minute she spent there had slowly begun to drive her insane.
Standing now in front of the Iron Throne, she watched helplessly as King Joffrey ordered a commoner's tongue to be cut out for simply singing a song that had offended Cersei. Through the cries and screams of mercy and forgiveness, Isabel could do nothing but glare at the young king in shock and horror at his disregard for lives.
It made her body shiver to think that the realm was once ruled by a man that was ten times as cruel as Joffrey Baratheon. Was the young boy slated to be the next mad king?
The young king locked eyes with her, and he gave her a smirk allowing himself to enjoy the moment of power.
"Lady Arryn!" he called out.
She held her breathe, unsure of whether to step forward, and suddenly fearful of her life. Her feet reluctantly moved forward as she placed herself in front of the Iron Throne and forced herself in a deep curtsey.
"Your Grace," she replied.
"My father has granted you the titles of Defender of the Vale and Warden of the East, has he not?" he asked.
"He did…right before he passed," she quietly spoke.
"And as my Warden, I would have expected you to call to your King's aid and help him rid him of his enemies. And yet you have failed to call your bannermen in the name of the King. Your lack of military action can warrant for treason," he warned.
"I was not aware we had declared open war," she cautiously replied, "I was sent on a mission of peace by your father."
"The time for peaceful measures has long past, and as my Warden…I would have expected you to recognize that. Do not make me doubt your ability to rule, Lady Arryn. I may not yet have the power to reverse my Father's Laws but I still hold the power to remove you by charges against your King."
It was an open threat – revenge against Isabel for failing to side with the Lannisters, and now they were using King Joffrey to undermine her current hold on her father's lands. The King's dispensation would be difficult to revoke as it required the unanimous vote of the King's council, and Isabel could only be comforted by the fact that Varys was at least would not betray her. Nonetheless, the Lannisters could threaten her by some other means – imprisonment was one form, false charges of treason was another, and the threat of death was inevitable. She looked to her side and saw the timid figure of Sansa Stark, another one of the Lannister's honoured guests. The poor girl looked frightened, and dared not look at Isabel directly. A closer glance could see the faint bruises below her neck, an indication to Isabel that Sansa had been put in harm's way.
If Joffrey Baratheon could hurt Sansa Stark, a girl barely yet a woman and get away with her, it made her ever more unnerved what the young king could do to her.
"I assure you, Your Grace that I have not instructed my Lords of the Vale to act against the King. They have not provided aid to the Stark army, but they sit idle in the Vale…awaiting my orders."
"Then you will order them to join the Lannister camp! I don't think you need to be reminded of what I do to traitors. I could have your head on a spike."
"The governance of the Vale is not so cut-throat," she carefully explained, "Our council must unanimously decide. Because of the on-going conflict between my brother and I, I'm afraid the council is rather divided and broken. Even I cannot force them to agree on such matter."
"Then they will be all committing treason against their King!" he yelled.
Cersei Lannister, who was sitting triumphantly beside her son, did little to hide the arrogant smirk that appeared on her lips. The two women stared intently on one another, with Isabel silently promising herself the vow she made to avenge her father. The Queen Regent did not bother to seek the audience of Isabel, much to her relief. However, in the court's eyes, it was a slight and public gesture that Isabel Arryn had fallen out of favour and was now seen as an enemy from the royal family. With a court that sought to please the king in every possible way to advance their own ambitions, Isabel Arryn quickly found herself alone against every vulture of the Red Keep.
I want them all dead.
"I trust the judgment of my lords," she humbly said.
Her words had angered him, but she had carefully played her cards right. She gave him neither promise, nor lies on her current predicament. King Joffrey could condemn them to a traitorous death, but that would invite the Vale to join the Stark army, and would give considerable aid and resources against the Lannister army. She inwardly smiled at King Joffrey's foolishness. He was only a pretender in her mind. The boy couldn't rule, and the only reason he was able to hold onto the throne was because people were afraid of him.
I am my father's daughter, she whispered to herself. I am not afraid of anything….not even you Joffrey Baratheon.
"That was very bold of you. You know King Joffrey's temper…it would not be wise to light anymore oil to the fire."
She glanced to her side and looked at the Master of Whispers with careful eyes. He maintained his distance, and stayed at least an arm's length away from her. Her gaze remained in front of her and for some time the pair walked side by side, silently down the castle's long corridors.
Isabel noticed Sansa Stark walking towards them from a distance, with the ladies that the Queen had personally appointed to her. Her eyes were cast down, with her head and shoulder hung low that the Northern beauty had failed to watch where she was going and nudged shoulders with her own.
"My apologies, Lady Arryn," Sansa said timidly.
Isabel gave her a small smile, and took her hands into her own. "There are no apologies needed, Sansa."
The sudden touch startled the younger girl and she jolted her hands away from Isabel's grasp and took a small step back from her. Isabel furrowed her brows in confusion and suddenly felt concerned for Sansa's well being.
"Has he hurt you?" she whispered in a low voice. "You need not fear him, Sansa."
"Joffrey is my one true king," she said tonelessly, as if she had rehearsed the words a thousand times over. "He is my bethrothed and my one true love."
"Sansa…." Isabel began.
"My Lady, we must go," said one of her ladies-in-waiting said, "King Joffrey will not be pleased that you are late."
Isabel narrowed her eyes at the woman standing some feet behind her and easily recognized her as one of Cersei's spies.
"Be careful, Sansa," Isabel urged.
The blue eyes looked up, and in a flash moment, Isabel saw Robb Stark standing in front of herself. Her heart jolted, feeling a sense of joy and immediate sadness when his face disappeared away from her. As Isabel blinked away her small delusion, she was greeted with a small smile from Sansa before she was scurried away from Cersei's ladies.
"If she continues her little game, she may yet survive this court," Lord Varys observed.
Isabel frowned, silently disagreeing with Varys, but decided to voice her own thoughts. "Have they found Arya?" she wondered out loud.
"There's been no sight of her."
She gripped her hands together, her mind filling with hope that Arya had made it out of King's Landing safely, and that a ship had taken her back to the north.
"I would urge you, Isabel to take a cue from young Sansa Stark. Mind what you say, for they may be very well your last."
"That sounds like a sizable threat," she replied bitterly.
"It may well turn into a reality if you fail to heed my warnings, my Lady."
She spent the remainder of the afternoon with the Great Sept, finding peace in the solitude and presence of the Seven. Isabel walked silently back to her quarters– a daily routine that she had quickly fallen accustomed to. With eyes lurking in the shadows, it was now dangerous to even try and seek out private audiences with her members of the court.
With the sun now reaching its way down into the horizon, Isabel felt herself quicken her pace; not wanting to remain out in the open and exposed when night fall arrived. The corridor was nearly empty now, as the courtiers and ladies of the court had gone to fill the Great Hall for the evening's festivities. As she turned the corner, Isabel felt her body quickly jolt, losing her balance when an unknown force pulled and collided her into the stone wall.
A shock of pain went up her body, as her shoulder was forcefully rammed into the stone. She opened her mouth to scream, but the sounds of her voice became muffled as a mysterious gloved hand covered her mouth with a cloth. Her attacker held her by the throat and tightened his grip, making it difficult for Isabel to breathe. She tried to gasp for air, but found herself choking at the lack of breathe.
She put her arms out, in an attempt to strike her attacker's face, which was hidden in a hood so deep that his face was masked in black shadows. A glimpse in the rising moonlight revealed the black markings on his face, which made him more menacing and terrifying in the shadows. Her eyes looked at him in horror, as her mind raced thinking her would-be assassin was one of the infamous guild, The Faceless Men.
She punched his shoulders and chest to no avail. Her arms were simply out of reach and had made no significant impact on the stronger warrior. Tiny black dots began forming in her sight, feeling the loss of air in lungs beginning to give way. The assassin loosened his grip ever so slightly, but was quick to draw a dagger and raised it dangerously close to Isabel's cheek.
He hissed at her, but said nothing. Again, she tried to scream and wriggle her way out, but his grip was much too strong for her.
It was at that moment that she wished Ser Tommas was with her and that her Father was still alive. She began to regret at pursing such ambition dreams, and wished for nothing more than to be back at the Vale, safe, naïve and happy.
Isabel did not want to die. Not like this.
"Little bird," the assassin said, "Go back to your nest."
He lowered his dagger to her collarbone ever so slowly and she felt the cold steel against her exposed skin. All of a sudden, the steel began digging into her skin, and she felt the blood seeping out of her body and the pain that followed.
She screamed as loud as she could, but no sound came out against the cloth that still covered half of her lower face. The dagger dug deeper, and she felt the blood drip down her chest. She felt numb, cold and utterly helpless that she could not fight her attacker.
"Fly home, little bird…fly home," he whispered.
He loosened his grip and she immediately fell to the floor. Isabel coughed and heaved, welcoming the open air and gripped her chest to stop the bleeding. By the time she looked up, the assassin had disappeared leaving Isabel alone dropping in blood and gasping for air.
She yelled to call for help, but only broken sounds came out that were barely above a whisper. Isabel felt light-headed, and the wound inflicted on her began to numb, as a slow throbbing sensation began to overcome her senses. Dizziness overcame her, and she found it difficult to focus and she began to feel cold, unable to feel her fingers or the warmth of her skin. She found herself unable to move, having lost all her strength and energy.
"Help!" she croaked out, hoping that somebody would find her.
Isabel finally collapsed on the floor, and her eyelids flickering as she tried to fight the blackness that overcame her.
Fly home, little bird…fly home.
Robb Stark hunched over the wooden table in his tent, looking over the maps and battle plans, trying to determine when to attack the Lannister army next. When the ravens came announcing that his father had been arrested on charges of treason, it did not take much to convince the Northern Lords to march south towards the Trident.
His victory, however did not come without a price. His mother had managed to convince House Frey to join their bannermen on the condition that he marry a Frey girl, and take on a squire from the same house.
It was one request that he did not want to agree on. His heart was already given to Isabel, and he had made a promise to her that they would be together some day. There was a moment in his mind to refuse the offer, but time was running out, and his army needed to cross the Twins.
It was the only way to ensure a victory against the Lannister army, and he had paid a heavy personal price.
The game had changed, and so had the rules – Robb Stark was beginning to realize that now. His hopes and dreams had to put aside, if he wanted to avenge his father and seek justice. The two dreams simply could not go hand in hand.
Isabel, where are you?
It had been weeks since he had last received word of her whereabouts since she retained within the Lannister army. As the young Lord of Winterfell, he could not seek out his personal mission and go and rescue her. His men simply would not have allowed such a foolish endeavor to happen. They did not trust Isabel, though she was Jon Arryn's eldest child. They did not trust her because she had grown up in the South. They did not trust her because of what she did to her brother, and they did not trust her because she was a woman.
He had written to the Eyrie, hoping to sway the Lords of the Vale to come to his aid and free Isabel from the Lannisters, but they were slow to reply and it gave Robb little hope that he could count on the Valemen in this war. He had enough men, with now House Frey joined to his army, but the Lannister still outnumbered them two to one, and now rumours were surfacing that a Martell-Lannister alliance was forming, which would send their numbers up.
A page boy entered his tent and gave a low boy. "My Lord," he called out.
"What is it?" Robb asked.
"A messenger, my Lord…from King's Landing," the younger man hesitantly said. He pulled out a rather large parchment from his belt and gave it to Robb before taking a large step backwards, afraid of being such close proximity to him.
The parchment was poorly wrapped in a black cloth, and the young wolf was quick to unwrap it. A small dagger fell on the floor startling Robb. A small blue bird, bloodied with his head cut off followed suit, dropping down to the ground before Robb could react.
The colour drained from his face, and he knew that this was no simple warning. He picked up the dagger, which was caked in dried blood and carefully examined it, hoping it would tell him who the messenger was.
There was no letter, or anything that suggested something more – just a bloodied dagger and a dead bird; the sigil of the Arryn house.
But it was enough for Robb to know its malicious meaning. Isabel's life was in danger, and every minute she continued to spend her days in King's Landing, the closer she was to death. He did not know whose blood was on the dagger, but his heart already knew the answer.
"Who sent you this?" he angrily demanded
"He didn't say…he left right after he gave it to me. Kept riding, even after I tried to call out after him. I couldn't even see his face. It was as if he had none…hidden in the shadows," the boy explained.
He gripped the blade in his hands in anger – anger at the fact that someone had tried to kill Isabel, and scared that she may be dead.
His mind no longer thinking, his heart was asking him what he told himself not to do. But it didn't matter anymore – Isabel's life was in danger, and he would never let himself rid of the guilt if she had died.
He had made his choice. Damn the Freys, damn the lords…damn them all.
I am coming for you Isabel.
In the darkness of night, and blackness of black, the shadows of the caves hid the secrets of the Red Keep for centuries. It was only with the threat of light, that only the wisest and most clever man could maneuver their own through the crevices and cracks of the red stone to unveil the treacherous truths of the dead king's past.
He raised his torch high above his head to illuminate the path ahead of him. The weight of the pouch carrying a rather large sum of golden dragons hung tightly on his belt, and Petyr Baelish was anxious to rid himself of it, in exchange for the crucial piece of knowledge that he sought.
The man he sought out had no name, no family and no history. They have described him as the death's messenger, and his presence was feared by all the noble houses. At a heavy price, the man could be bought, and he was your loyal servant until the debt was paid.
He laid hidden in the shadows, refusing to reveal himself in the light. But Petyr could feel his presence, and he held his breathe for a moment. Petyr Baelish was not afraid of many things, but this man unnerved him.
"Your task is complete," the man whispered in a low voice.
"It's done? The message has been sent?"
"Your little bird lies in a pool of blood, and your young wolf now rides south with even more determination than ever. Your war is now certain."
"Then it is done," he repeated with a victorious satisfaction.
He untied the knots of the strings and let the heavy pouch loose from his belt. He handed it over to the man, where he felt the weight disappear into the shadows.
"I must ask, how much harm did you inflict on her? You know I need her alive."
"I did what you asked and nothing more," he reassured him, "Gave her a nasty scratch, to serve as reminder of how close she came to death. The wound will heal, but will leave a scar. I gave the Stark boy my regards, and I have word he writes to the Eyrie once again to join forces."
"Then our transaction has completed. Until next time."
It took a few passing moments before Petyr Baelish realized he was alone in the underground caves of the Red Keep, unsure of when the man had left him. He shivered, feeling unsafe and exposed in the darkness and proceeded to leave as quickly as possible.
The task was done – love will fuel the chaos and plunge the Seven Kingdoms into further war.
What a young man wouldn't do for love, he bitterly thought.
Now all he had to do was sit and wait – wait to save the day.
A/N: Stay tuned to see what happens next! xoxo :)