Hey guys sorry it's been a while, I don't have much time to sit down and write at the moment so updates may become more sparse but I haven't given up on this story! I will still finish it. Anyway I hope the sunshine has reached you, the weather has been warming up and soon summer will be upon us! I'm talking to those who live in the U.K where it's rainy and dull about 95% of the time. If you live in Miami or somewhere as equally as warm then I am positively jealous of you.

Anyway, keep safe!

Slightlynerdy.

Wolves and Hounds.

Chapter 15.

King's Landing rose huge and imposing above into the sky. From where Tarynn was she could see the Red Keep and Baelor's Sept, they towered, examples of magnificent architecture. Sansa was beside her, riding a mare.

"It's wonderful isn't it Tarynn."

"Yes, yes it is, absolutely breath-taking."

It had taken the entourage the best part of a month to reach the gates of King's Landing. Streams of people surrounded them, clapping and cheering, alternating between shouts of King Robert and Lord of Winterfell. Tarynn rode behind her father, her two younger sisters on either side. Sansa was waving at the small folk, as was Tarynn when she felt the need arise, but Arya sat still in her saddle.

"Arya, tell me, what's wrong?"

"I just want Nymeria back." Tarynn reached out, patting her little sister in a consoling way on the shoulder. "And all these people are staring at me."

Sansa's whisper was fierce, "That's because you're supposed to be a Lady of Winterfell. Now act like one!"

Tarynn withdrew her hand and sat back in her saddle. Toby was just in front of her to the side, he made up part of the guards that surrounded them as they neared the city, she could see the king as well, leading the columns into his seat of power. Joffrey was there, as was the Hound.

She had not spoken to the Hound for a week, under Toby's orders. Whenever she saw the Hound heading towards her she would take another route or make some sort of excuse, apologise and leave. She knew he was hurt, even though he never visibly showed it, but he never complained nor did he try to stop her like he had in the stables. Instead he had reverted back to treating her as if she didn't exist. He would grunt in passing or if Joffrey made him do something which also involved Tarynn he would do it without a word unless it was common courtesy.

But she knew he watched her, often times she would feel eyes on her back and she would turn round to find the Hound standing somewhere his arms folded, and his grey eyes on her. She wondered how long she would be able to keep this up. She wasn't close to forgiving him for the murder of Mycah but he had been right, whether it had been or cold blood or self defence she too had taken a life from this world. The men in her father's guard would speak of the Hound's prowess with a blade; how he could lop a man's head clean off without even exerting himself. Whenever they spoke of Sandor, Tarynn would lean in and listen carefully.

They often spoke of Sandor during the war, where he had proven himself in various battles and had earned himself, by right, the title of Knight. Yet he had refused, and now corrects anyone who addresses him as 'Ser'.

"Tarynn look."

Sansa was motioning to the fact that they were now passing through one of the gates that led into the city, the portcullis was raised and when Tarynn looked up she could see the spikes that adorned the bottom of it. Somewhere a trumpet sounded long and loud, rising up over the boiling city, after the last blast from the trumpet that was when the cheering started. She was overwhelmed by the sheer number of people who occupied the sides of the winding roads, children hanged out of windows, women waved coloured sheets in the air, a couple of people who stood at the road's edge waved flags coloured crimson and gold, the colours of House Baratheon. And to Tarynn's shock, more than just a few waved flags the colours of House Stark.

Shouts of King rose from the crowd, and not before long cries of Stark and Hand joined the thunderous voices. Her father did not wave, he didn't wave to his subjects in Winterfell so no one could expect him to wave to a bunch of unruly southerners. Sansa waved delicately, playing the part of a princess, herself and Arya however remained still. She acknowledge a couple of people but she felt uncomfortable with everyone staring at her, she kept her eyes downcast and rode silently as Sansa giggled and laughed.

"Isn't this just wonderful? The city, the people?!" Sansa continued to wave, smiling brightly as she commented on the obvious as they rode through the thick swarm of people.

Tarynn loved her sister with all her heart but at times she could lose her head in the clouds and not come down for days. She was so obsessed with aesthetics, the exterior of things rather than the interior. Tarynn was not interested in the bright colours and the flags, her eyes were fixed on Baelor's Sept which rose high into the sky and her mind wandered. Thinking about the tomes on the Seven that must be stored in there, thinking of the history and architecture. She was so fixated on the possibilities that she almost didn't see the small child that had run out into the road.

There was a shout from the crowd, and Tarynn looked down from the majestic building to the road that stretched out in front of her. A small child ran towards the horses, the guards a top them hadn't notice for the shouts and cries of cheers that emanated from the bustling crowd drowned out the thin cry that wisped through the air. Tarynn didn't think she simply did, jumping from her horse, she ran towards the soldiers on horseback, shouting loudly.

"Stop… STOP!"

One of the guards turned their heads to her as she ran towards the soldiers, the crowd was still roaring but everything seemed to have slowed down for Tarynn. The guards had still continued riding forward oblivious to the small girl cowering in their path. Tarynn grabbed one of the soldiers' reins, pulling the horse round abruptly before darting through the gap it created and rushing towards the bawling child. Only then did the soldiers realise what had happen, and one by one they slowed, halting. She gathered the child in her arms, her face was streaked with black dirt and from amidst the grubbiness of the child's face two large brown eyes stared up at her. The girl stopped crying and it was then that Tarynn realised that the crowd had stopped its cheering and the entire train of people that made up the entourage had fallen to a standstill.

A hand was on her shoulder and she looked up, half expecting to see Toby looming above her with a look of disdain upon his handsome face. But it wasn't.

The Hound offered her his hand and she took it, he pulled her up gently as she held the child to her hip. When she stood she looked around her, at the faces of the people who made up King's Landing, at her father's stony face as he stood beside his horse, he had dismounted when he had realised that Tarynn wasn't on her horse. At the King's face as he scrutinised her, with his arms folded, at Arya's and Sansa's, Sansa's mouth hanged slightly opened, at the Queen's callous expression when she emerged from her wheelhouse, the Kingslayer close by. She even looked to Toby, and sure enough the look of disgust was painted on his perfect face.

She left Sandor until last, looking up at him, the child nestling her face against Tarynn's neck. She wondered if she would see the same look that was on everyone else's faces on Sandor's, that look of utter revulsion as they came to terms with the fact that she was holding a filthy peasant child to her chest as if it were her own babe. But he didn't, instead he wore the same impenetrable mask that he always wore, but there was something else in his eyes which made Tarynn question herself over wherever she had been too quick to judge him.

He stood slightly beside her, and to an outside eye they would have looked like a family, the mother in front holding the child, with the father behind watching over his family. Like the way they were portrayed in the huge portraits that hung within the halls at Winterfell.

Apart from this child has a mother, I heard the scream.

She scanned the crowd, until she saw the woman who she surmised had screamed, she had knelt on the floor, her hands over her face. The woman, well she was girl really, was haggard with long brown hair. As Tarynn neared her, the little girl still in her arms, she saw that traces of beauty still remained on the woman and that she was not native to Westeros.

"I believe this is your little girl?"

Tarynn held out the child, towards the woman who had been sobbing profusely. The girl looked up blindly at Tarynn and then at the small girl who was being held out by Tarynn.

"Aima?"

"Mama!" The child reached out towards the woman with her chubby hands and the girl accepted her babe back into her arms. Tarynn withdrew a step back, allowing mother and daughter to have a moment together.

"You saved her, you saved my little girl." The woman's voice was laced with the thick accent of Myr and so Tarynn responded to her in her own tongue.

"Please, I am just glad that no harm came to your beautiful little girl."

The woman's tears turned to tears of joy as she moved towards Tarynn, most likely to embrace her had Sandor not spoke in his gruff voice.

"Know your place woman."

The woman retreated a step, eyes downcast.

"No, allow her to come near." Tarynn gestured to the woman. "What is your name?"

"My name is Tilana."

"Tilana… What do you do Tilana?"

"I… I work the streets… M-my Lady."

Tarynn had never come across that expression before, she looked to Sandor.

"Prostitute." His voice was low as he responded.

"I see."

She reached for the woman's hand, for some strange reason the young girl with the child balanced on her hip reminded her of Greta. "I will have someone send for you; you will come and work for me. No longer will you have to sell yourself in order to live."

"My Lady that is most kind."

Tarynn turned away, Sandor accompanying her as she returned to her horse. He helped her up before returning to his own. There was a brief pause of silence and dread crept into her heart as she realised that what she had just done had been incredibly foolish. But then the crowd erupted.

Shouts of wolf and Lady Stark rose up high into the cloudless blue sky she gave a slight wave, nodding to Tilana before gripping the reins tightly and urging her horse forward, a wave of calm washed over her fears and she began to smile easily, falling quickly into the pattern of waving to large groups of people at once. Still the shouts of Lady Stark rumbled the cobblestone road and caused the glass in the windows to rattle. Among the shouts were cries of Stark and Hand. The Starks had made a fine entry into King's Landing. And they had also won a popularity vote through the fact that Tarynn had willingly helped someone of the lower casts.

The crowd began to quiet as they neared the Red Keep. The King entered first before dismounting and practically threw his reins to one of the stable boys. Her father followed suit as did Joffrey, Renly, the Hound, and some of the Kingsguard including Barristan Selmy. When it reached Tarynn's turn to dismount she had been instructed to wait for her sisters and two guards; Toby and Jory before waving one last time to the swarm of people that clustered around the gate before heading into the large expanse that was King Robert's home. She did, she waited for Arya and Sansa to join her side, and then Jory and Toby. She gave one last wave before following her protectors into the fabled keep.

Toby's face was twisted into a snarl as they entered the keep, and Tarynn knew that she would have to face his anger later when he visited her. On the dais before the haunting iron throne stood an assortment of men. An elderly man with a long beard stood teetering to the left, he wore a heavy chain symbiotic of his role as the head Maester. To his right was a soft, effeminate, plump man with a shaven head. His face was smothered in powder and he wore soft purple robes. To the right of him was a thin, short man. With a triangular beard and deep black hair speckled with grey, he wore black with a silver doublet. Tarynn's eyes ghosted over him, but his gaze was fixated on her. She didn't know who he was but his interest in her was unnerving.

"Come girls… And Tarynn. Welcome to the Red Keep. And this bunch of motley fools is what makes up my small council. Little Finger tell me, has my city been trodden down in bankruptcy since I have been gone?"

"My King this is not the…"

"The only bankruptcy this kingdom suffers is your own, my sweet husband."

Cersei swanned past, heading towards a door to the back of the hall with her children following her like little ducks. Tommen broke from the order for a moment, running to his father. Robert Bartheon struggled to bend but he reached down, ruffled Tommen's yellow hair before pushing him towards Cersei. The stoic Queen smoothed Tommen's hair out in disgust before sweeping her children away and out of the throne room.

"My darling wife… Always the truthful angel. But we have some business to attend to. Ned with me. Someone will sort your daughters out with their rooms… This meet will also require Tarynn."

"Robert?"

"Ned. I need someone fluent in Valyrian and Myrish. Tarynn is the only one standing in this court capable of doing such a task."

"My daughter is just a…"

"Capable young woman. Did you not see how she acted with that child?! The people love her; I have half a mind to…"

Tarynn watched the exchange from afar, out of the corner of her eye she could see the Hound, and beside him Joffrey who was seething with anger and hatred directed at her.

"No." Whatever Robert's implication had been her father had been quick to object to it, "You could hire someone to do it, a slave maybe?"

"And what, leave the secrets of this Keep out for every fucker to hear?" Tarynn instinctively went to cover Arya's ears, just like mother used to do whenever Theon cursed whilst practising his bow. "Tarynn will scribe for us, and then she will use that information to compose a letter written in the language of those savage cities that lie to the East. I am your King Ned, and I command it."

She watched as her father submitted to the King, duty had always been part of her father's beliefs and his duty was to the King. "Tarynn, come."

She moved forward, leaving her sisters behind with Jory and Toby. She could feel everyone's eyes on her as she moved to stand beside her father.

"Right. Your daughters will be given rooms in the Tower of the Hand. Littlefinger, Varys. Shall we adjourn to the small meeting room?"

"Of course, your majesty." Varys voice was a smooth a silk as he responded, before gliding out of the room on silent feet.

King Robert followed, motioning to Ned to walk with him.

"Tarynn, this meeting is for men. Do not offer your opinion, just sit and write. The King can take things the wrong way when someone opposes him. If it was my decision you wouldn't even be sitting in on this meeting."

"Father, I promise, I won't say a word."

"Good." Ned Stark patted his daughter gently on the arm before moving off to walk through the stone corridors with the King.

Tarynn waited for a moment compiling her thoughts when a voice interrupted her. "My, my Lady Tarynn you do remind me of your mother. The same shaped eyes, and light skin, the same nose."

Tarynn turned to the voice and was face to face with Littlefinger, so called for his short stature but he was still at least 5 inches taller than Tarynn. The skin around his eyes wrinkled when he smiled, but he wasn't an ugly man.

"You will have to excuse me but I don't know your name my Lord."

"Petyr Baelish. Master of Coin for our beloved King Robert." Littlefinger snatched up her hand, lifting it to his lips. "The King tells me you are gifted with that tongue of yours."

Tarynn removed her hand before he kissed it, "If you would excuse me I must call over my guard." She turned to where Arya and Sansa had been standing, but they were no longer there. Thankfully however she saw the back of Toby's lean figure. "Toby!"

He turned in the doorway at the sound of his name. She motioned him over to her and he dutifully complied, a grin stretching over his face.

He is very quick to change his mood.

"Toby could you please accompany me, my father insisted that I had a guard."

Another lie, but this Littlefinger is creeping me out, he seems too slippery and untrustworthy.

"As your father commands."

Littlefinger on realising that he wouldn't be left alone with Tarynn stalked out of the room, once Petyr was safely in front of them, Toby leant in, pressing his hand against the small of Tarynn's back.

"What was that stunt you pulled earlier?" His whisper was furious as he dug the heel of his hand painfully into Tarynn's tailbone.

"Toby please… The child would have been killed. "

"So you leap off your horse and put yourself in immediate danger? Have you learnt nothing?!"

Her palm itched, a strange tingly sensation that spread like wildfire could be likened to it. "Ser, remove your hand, I am a Lady of House Stark and I will not be treated this way."

Pain and malice flashed through Toby's green eyes, but he removed his hand and walked beside her woodenly. She felt a surge of guilt and sorrow for what she had said and done, surely he was only saying those things because he cared for her.

"Toby I…"

"Lady Tarynn, the King requests you join the meeting immediately. You are to be seated beside Lord Renly."A small squat man addressed her; she thanked him courteously before looking back at Toby nervously. He had regained his composure but there was something in his eyes that made her wonder. She pushed open the door, admitting herself into a light and airy room. A table occupied the middle of it and seated around it were the men that made up the small council. There was an empty seat beside Renly and the Maester, she moved towards it silently, her heart beating fast. Renly stood like he had done that morning that had seemed so long ago, whisked out the chair and motioned for her to sit. She thanked him, and he grinned in return.

"Right, now that our scribe has finally made her way to the meet. Shall we start gentlemen?"

There were murmurs of agreement around the table. She picked up her quill and moved a bottle of ink closer to her before dipping the feather into the black substance, drenching the end in ink. She scratched a rune onto the parchment, before finding a position that was comfortable for her to write with and began to transcribe everything that was being said in the meeting. Later she would have to write out three letters, two of them being in Valyrian and Myrish and the other Westeros.

"Your Grace another report came through from our neighbours in the East."

"What language have those heathens written it in?"

"Myrish, I have been able to make out the gist of it but you will need someone much more gifted in the art of languages then I to decipher it."

Her father's voice was quiet and calculating, "Why would they write in Myrish?"

"Safety my Lord Hand, there are hardly any Myrish in Pentos at this time of year; this way any correspondence can be guaranteed to be delivered to the King safely and unread."

"Well then give it to our linguist Varys." The Spider handed it to her, and Tarynn took it lightly, the letter was heavy in her hand as she opened it, unfolded the parchment and scanned over it. The flow of writing was excellent and the language had been expertly written. "Read it out to us."

She cleared her throat and looked tentatively around the room and the faces of the men who were all watching her. She spoke in what she hoped was a confident voice.

"Your Grace, I hope this letter reaches you sealed, and bares no signs of being tampered with or neglected. I have been asked to co-ordinate an assassination attempt on the last remaining Targaryens. I assure you, the best route would be to employ the talents and skills of the Faceless Men, however they ask a hefty price for their services, although they always succeed in eliminating their target. If the price they ask does not please you then I have an alternate. A few wine merchants are in my employ and I can station them at cities where we feel that Daenarys Targaryen and the rest of Khal Drogo's Khalasar may visit. A few drops of poison in a small goblet of wine and the deed will be done; you will have no more Targaryen usurpers to worry about. Consider my proposals your Grace, I await your response. Yours faithfully…"

Tarynn was cut off by Renly's voice flowing out into the small room beside her, "You are organising the assassination of Daenarys Targaryen?"

"She is a Dothraki bitch now Renly, we need to crush her before things get out of hand."

"She's just a child." Lord Stark's eyes flickered towards Tarynn.

She's the same age as Sansa.

Daenarys Targaryen was the youngest daughter of the Mad King Aerys, only her mother, who had been with child and her older brother Viserys had survived the Sack of King's Landing. Rhaella had been set away to Dragonstone by her husband-brother in an attempt to protect her, yet she died when bringing forth Daenarys into the world.

Tarynn had learnt the history of the Targaryen Dynasty, admittedly she had some trouble remembering the details of certain aspects of the past but she could reiterate the general facts readily enough.

"She is old enough to give birth then she is old enough to die," Tarynn winced at his words and she felt someone's hand on her wrist, she looked down to her right, which was where Renly sat. He looked at her apologetically, but his countenance was strange, as if he was apologising for something other than Robert's complete disregard of a child's life. "We must be rid of her before this she-devil spawns another."

There were mixed opinions, Varys silently agreed, as did the Maester and Littlefinger, but her father and Renly voiced words of compassion for the young girl whose life was currently in the hands of an extremely vengeful King of Westeros.

"Robert if you would just listen to yourself…"

Robert's fist came crashing down on the table, bits of wood splintered, "I am doing this for Lyanna Ned, I promised to get rid of those Targaryen scum because of what they did to your sister, my betrothed. I will not rest until the rest of the Targaryen inbreeds have been discarded. You should be grateful; I am avenging the death of your father, your brother, Lyanna…"

"Daenerys played no part in Aerys machinations."

"You are my Hand Ned, but I am your King. You do as I command." There was a brief silence before she watched her father's indignant nature simmer down as he complied with the King's wishes. "Now. All of you leave me; I wish to write this letter myself with Tarynn." The men began to stand, Tarynn was frozen to the chair, and she did not want to be left alone in the room with just this grossly ignorant man for company. Her father lingered behind until Robert barked more orders at him, "Leave Ned, you will get your own copy of this letter I assure you. And no doubt your daughter will give you an accurate detailed version of what happened later. My steward will guide you to the Tower of the Hand…"

"I know where the Tower is," He turned from Robert and towards Tarynn, "I want to see you immediately after you have finished with the letters." She nodded her acknowledgement before focusing her eyes on the King, offering him her complete attention. She expected it to start off with the subject of the letters immediately, but perhaps that was too much to ask.

"Does your father ever talk about Lyanna, his sister?"

Tarynn sighed, dipping her quill into more ink, "No, he doesn't talk much about the past…"

"She was beautiful, an amazing horsewoman, a fighter… I've seen how you ride Tarynn. You remind me of her…" The King sat back in his chair, his hands folded behind his head.

Tarynn remembered noting before the fact that even though the King was overweight and he struggled to fit his immense size into a normal size chair, traces of the handsomeness that people often used to describe him when depicting him during the Rebellion still existed. She was almost sure that with the right plan and willpower to lose the heavy stones that weighed him down that he would once again be the young warrior that rebelled against the Mad King Aerys. However the King was obnoxious and stubborn, he loved his wine and women too much.

"Please your Majesty, the sooner that we write these letters the sooner our duty will be done."

"You talk to me just like your father does... What do you call those brightly feathered birds that come from Pentos?"

"Parrots?"

"Yes Parrots? You... Parrot your father. But you are right, never thought I would say that a woman was right, let's get this out of the way then.

Tarynn made a brief silent prayer to the Old Gods, a prayer of forgiveness and patience, she was after all sealing the last of the Targaryen's fate.