Author's Note: Here is chapter 2 guys. So I'm gonna be honest and say that this story will have my attention for now. For those who are following TKoSaW, it will be a bit longer until the new chapter is out as I am having to redo the whole chapter as my old laptop died on me, resulting in me losing the old version. I'll get on it asap, so once again, I'm very sorry.
Anyway, without further ado, read on and let me know what you think guys. Cheers.
Chapter 2
The Game Changes
Varys
The silence in the room was deafening. Everyone was sat down around the table of the room set aside for the small council to use. Queen Cersei was red with fury, while all of the others were sat uncomfortably; Littlefinger looked a little pale while Pycelle was looking ready to drop; the corrupt commander of the Gold Cloaks, Janos Slynt, was wide eyed with fear, and the boy who sat the Iron Throne looked very frightened and pitiful. Varys of course had to paint a face of discomfort for everyone else to see, though in truth he was quite impressed with this news. The messenger who arrived just this morning had brought news that Varys (and indeed everyone else) did not expect. Only eight days ago, Robb Stark had successfully trapped and captured Tywin Lannister just east of the Green Fork of the Trident river. Such news was not expected by anyone, for the Lord of Casterly Rock has never been defeated.
"Those Northmen have captured my father?" Cersei said, her tone laced with hatred.
"Yes your grace," the messenger said uncertainly. "The Northmen lured Lord Tywin into a trap, using a decoy to pose as Robb Stark. Ser Gregor Clegane led the charge against the host that the Northmen used as the lure. They were all slaughtered, but for everyone of theirs slain they killed one of our own in return. Only after we slaughtered that host were we trapped by the rest of the Northmen, and then we realised that we were surrounded. Lord Tywin was wounded by an arrow that pierced his calf, and his horse was brought down by two more arrows. His mount fell on his other leg, trapping him. After that the Stark men charged in and surrounded us. Not even your brother Lord Tyrion's reinforcements could withstand the onslaught of Northmen your grace." Varys noticed how Cersei's eyes hardened at the mention of her dwarf brother.
"I have to ask, what reinforcements did Lord Tyrion bring?" Varys asked before Cersei could say anything. "The last we heard was that Lord Tyrion was a prisoner of Lady Stark before somehow gaining a champion to stand for him in a trial by combat, and after that we've heard nothing." The messenger straightened himself up before he spoke.
"Lord Tyrion brought with him a few hundred Clansmen of the Vale," he answered. "But they were no match for the Northmen. I saw with my own eyes the Greatjon Umber bring down one of the Clansmen chiefs, and that man was a beast of a man who could wield two battle axes as if they were only hand axes. Everywhere you looked the men of the North were cutting down our own men, showing little to no mercy. Ser Gregor Clegane was wounded by dozens of bolts and arrows before being killed by a knight of House Manderly, and I saw Ser Amory Lorch being bested by a woman of Bear Island." Varys was further pleased at this news; he has always hated Clegane and Lorch for what they did during Robert's Rebellion, specifically the murders of Princess Elia and her children Rhaenys and Aegon Targaryen. Robb Stark seems to have done rather well for his first battle.
"How could this have happened?" Cersei muttered to herself, her voice full of panic which would have made Varys smile any other time.
"Well, what else happened?" Joffrey demanded, finally adding his voice to the room.
"It was all so quick your grace," the messenger continued. "Stark had us decimated. It was a well planned ambush. He led the attack himself, leading his warriors into the fray with his accursed direwolf beside him. That foul beast tore open dozens of throats and felled many horses. Our men fled as soon as Ser Kevan fell." Cersei gasped at those words, looking up sharply at the man.
"W... what?" she mumbled. "My uncle?" The messenger seemed to tremble then, and Varys could not blame him.
"I am sorry my queen. Ser Kevan fought bravely, and his death was mercifully quick. He fought the Young Wolf personally, but he could not best the man. Your cousins Willem and Martyn were among those taken prisoner." Varys watched Cersei as she slumped in her chair. The news of her beloved uncle's death had clearly hit her hard. Before anyone could say another word Joffrey stood up, his face contorted into an angry sneer.
"Send for Ser Ilyn," he commanded. "I want Eddard Stark's head on a spike at once. And make Sansa watch so she knows what happens to those who challenge me." Varys looks at the youth, taken aback by the sudden command. Sansa had asked for mercy for her father, asking for him to be sent to the Wall, but this would only make things worse. Varys has for many years wanted to see Westeros destabilised to make things easier for the rightful King to return to his throne, but of all of his plans the death of Eddard Stark does not play into them. He would rather see him back in the North where he belongs with his family. Knowing what to do, Varys speaks up before anyone can move to follow Joffrey's command.
"Your grace if I may," he began, and waited to see if Joffrey would interrupt him or not. "Eddard Stark is a traitor who deserves to be punished for his treason. I think we are all in agreement here. But, to execute him now would be very dangerous."
"Why?" the youth spat. "His son has taken my grandfather prisoner..."
"Exactly your grace," Varys cut in before Joffrey could continue. "He has taken Lord Tywin prisoner, along with your uncle Lord Tyrion, and your mother Queen Cersei's cousins Willem and Martyn. He has personally slain Ser Kevan Lannister, your great-uncle who was known to be a superb swordsman even in his later years. He has captured many lords and knights from the Westerlands, and his men have killed a few notable individuals such as the Mountain that Rides, Ser Gregor Clegane. To kill Robb Stark's father now would be beyond foolish my king." Joffrey looked insulted by Varys's words and seemed to be ready to shout at him when Cersei finally regained the use of her tongue.
"Lord Varys is right Joffrey," she said, her voice full of despair. "If we do anything to Lord Stark or his daughter then Robb Stark will do worse to my father, your grandfather. We need to gather our allies and command them to gather here. As long as we hold Eddard Stark alive Robb Stark cannot march on us for fear of us executing his father." Varys was relieved that Cersei spoke sense into her son. The youth paced around the room for a minute before finally sighing.
"Very well," he said rather petulantly. "I'll keep Stark alive, for now. In the mean time we should command the kingdoms to rally to us. Send word to my Uncle Stannis to bring the Royal Fleet back here and to get Uncle Renly back in line. And call upon the Vale, tell Lady Lysa to send the Knights of the Vale to engage the Northmen and keep them stalled."
After Joffrey gave his orders and dismissed the council Varys made his way to his own chambers. Once there he began to put a new plan into place. He knew that all he had managed to do was buy Lord Eddard a few more days of life, but no one could tell when Joffrey would demand his head again. It took four days to plan, during which Varys had learned many things including that the Northmen had set up a garrison at Harrenhal and were just sitting there for the time being. After another two days Varys set his plan into motion. Knowing full well the price should he fail Varys made sure that his escape plan was set up and ready, as well as the secondary plan of escape. Just before he set off one of his little birds, as he calls his agents, came to him and told him that they had found the youngest Stark girl.
It was night time, and the streets of King's Landing were nearly deserted. Varys moved along the road he was walking on as quickly as he could, his features hidden under the robes he wore whenever he was beyond the Red Keep. He was wandering the Street of Steel where he turned a corner and came face to face with the youngest daughter of Lord Eddard.
"Hello my lady," he said softly as she drew a thin bladed sword that looked very similar to what the bravos of Braavos use. She blinked rapidly at him, the tip of the sword pointing at his throat.
"Who are you?" the child demanded. Varys sighed as he lowered himself down onto his knees.
"I am Varys my lady," he said. "I am planning to help your father to escape from captivity. I thought that you might want to leave this city with him." Arya Stark looked back at him, her eyes narrow as if she was trying to tell if he was lying or not. Of the two daughters of Lord Eddard, only Arya had the classic Stark look; dark brown hair, a long face, and grey eyes. Her older sister Sansa has their mother's Tully features of auburn hair and blue eyes.
"How do I know that this isn't a trick?" she asked, her voice trembling. Varys sighed as he looked at her.
"Believe me child, I have no need to try and trick you," he spoke. "All I want to see is you and your family return to the North. You must be hungry after being on the streets for the last few weeks?" he asked as he handed over a roll of bread that had been baked that morning. Arya took the bread from his hands and tore a big bite from it. She chewed the bread gratefully, and Varys gave her a smile and a quick wink of his eye. "I still have some things to do, including getting your sister Sansa out of the Red Keep, but I have some men doing that just now. In the mean time I would like you to go with my friend here," he said as he gestured to the man who appeared behind him. "He will escort you to the ship that will take you and your father and sister away from the city." Arya looked between him and the man wearily, her hand tightening around the grip of her sword, before she nodded.
As Arya left with Varys's agent taking her to the ship that will leave King's Landing, Varys returned to the Red Keep. His first stop was at the rooms of Ser Ilyn Payne, the King's Justice. When he entered though he met two of his older birds; a young woman of nineteen who was quite pretty, and a scarred man who has fought Ironborn during the Greyjoy Rebellion as well as other assorted scum over the years. The woman served as a distraction for Ser Ilyn, using her rather lovely body to draw the older man's attention while the scarred man snuck behind him and slit his throat. Varys looked at the woman, who was wiping blood off of her face.
"Tis done milord," the woman said gesturing to Ser Ilyn's lifeless body. "We have the sword as well." Varys looked to the scarred man who held the greatsword; a two-handed weapon whose blade was forged from Valyrian steel, a metal that was spell-forged in Old Valyria before the Doom, and is lighter than regular steel and never looses its edge. Any other weapon needs a whetstone to keep it sharp, but Valyrian steel will slice a whetstone in half as well as take the fingers off the man holding the whetstone.
"Very good my friends," Varys said. "Now we must go. Elyn, go to the room where the Lady Sansa is being held, our mutual friend should be done with her guards and be talking to her now. Duncan, do follow me to the Black Cells. We will get Lord Eddard out of there where you will give him back his sword and help us get back to the ship." The sellsword looked mournful at the idea of giving up the sword but none the less he nodded in agreement. The three of them left the room, Varys closing the door behind him and locking it to ensure that no one found Ser Ilyn's body sooner than needed. Elyn wandered off to go to Sansa's room, while Duncan followed him into the Black Cells. Upon entering the dank darkened corridors that led there Varys grabbed a lit torch from the wall and held it before him as he walked. Once at the door to Lord Eddard's cell Varys entered and made his way to the wounded former Hand of the King.
"What do you want now Varys?" he asked after looking up at him. Eddard Stark looked worse than when Varys last spoke with him ten days ago. His long brown hair was filthy and looked uncomfortable while his beard was longer and no longer neat. His grey eyes seemed devoid of all life already, as if he were expecting his end at any moment.
"Things have changed my friend," Varys said softly. Eddard gave a little noise at Varys's words, something like a 'hmm' sound.
"So I am to be taken from here to stand before Joffrey and confess my crimes?" he asked bitterly.
"Far from it," Varys said, and he smiled when Eddard looked up at him in confusion. "Your son, Robb, has done the impossible my lord. Robb Stark and his host of twenty-thousand men have not just defeated and captured Lord Tywin, but also annihilated his own host. Many have died, including the Mountain, who I think you'll agree has been long overdue his punishment for his dreadful actions fifteen years ago, and Lord Tywin's brother Ser Kevan Lannister whom Robb had killed himself. It was Ser Kevan's death that broke the Westermen and sent them fleeing, but none escaped from what we know. Robb allowed a messenger to come here to spread word of his victory at what people are already calling the Humbling of the Lion. We have been informed that as well as taking Lord Tywin prisoner Robb has also taken his son Lord Tyrion, who I must say is probably getting a bit bored of being taken prisoner by Starks." This managed to get Eddard to chuckle a lit bit. "He has also taken Ser Kevan's twin sons, Willem and Martyn, Ser Kevan's good-father Ser Harys Swyft, and Ser Amory Lorch who it is said was bested by a woman, which I must say I find curious." Eddard's lips curled up slightly at that.
"That must have been Maege Mormont or her daughter Dacey," Eddard said. "Maege fought with me during Robert's Rebellion and the Greyjoy Rebellion, while Dacey was too young on both occasions. She must be old enough by now, and as Maege's heir I doubt that she would stay away from the fight when there is one to be had." Varys smiled at that.
"Ah yes, the warrior women of Bear Island. Such a brave people, considering all of their past plights. You are fond of them, despite the actions of Jorah Mormont?" he asked. At the mention of the exiled lord Eddard's face hardened.
"Jorah Mormont betrayed the laws of the First Men," he growled. "He sold poachers he caught on his lands into slavery. No man, no matter what he has done in his life, deserves such a fate. But instead of admitting his crimes and facing his fate he chose to run like a craven." Varys sensed a keen hatred towards this man who has kept him aware of the actions of the last two children of old Mad Aerys; Viserys and Daenerys, the former who has died after threatening his sister in front of her husband, and the latter who had survived the attempt on her life before Varys's man could get to her. Eddard shook his head. "Forgive me Varys, but I prefer not to talk of lords who break the laws that they should uphold and then flee when justice comes for them." He took a deep breath then before sitting up straighter. "So then, as my son has captured Tywin Lannister I suppose that means that I'll be free in a few more weeks then?" Varys sat down beside Eddard then, a wide genuine smile across his face. It amused him that Eddard was disturbed by this.
"Actually Lord Eddard, I am doing the sensible thing for the present time and freeing you now," he told him. Eddard blinked at those words, as if he did not trust his own ears then.
"You are?" he asked, to which Varys nodded his head. "Why now? Why are you doing this now instead of when I had asked you however long ago that was before?" Varys sighed before he answered.
"Because freeing you at any other time puts you at risk of being killed my lord," he told him honestly. "News of your son's victory arrived nearly a week ago now, and after the news had sunk in Joffrey demanded your head. I was able to convince him to spare you, and Cersei to her credit talked further sense into her son. It was then that I realised that you were not going to live to see home if Joffrey were to get his way. I confess my lord that had I known Joffrey's true intent earlier then I would have acted sooner in getting you out of the city to allow you to go back to Winterfell. As it happens though, my little birds have found your youngest daughter Arya. One of my men has taken her to a ship, where I will bring both you and your elder daughter Sansa to once we are done here." Varys stood up and then removed a key from his robes. "This is the only way to achieve peace my lord," Varys said as he slid the key into the shackles that bound Eddard in place. With his wrists and ankles free Eddard stood up and stretched his limbs, hissing in pain as he did, no doubt forgetting the wound on his leg from when Ser Jamie accosted him some months ago.
"In that case Lord Varys, we should leave now," Eddard said. "I have no wish to go and meet the same fate my father and brother met here years ago." Varys nodded his head in agreement.
"Quite right my lord," he said as he led Eddard out of the cell. "Oh, and by the way, Duncan here has managed to retrieve your sword, Ice." Duncan stepped forward then and held the greatsword out to Eddard.
"You have my thanks ser," Eddard said as he took Ice from him.
"You're welcome milord, but I am no knight, just a sellsword with an influential friend at court," Duncan said. Eddard winced as he secured Ice across his back, the wolf-pelt scabbard hanging from his shoulder.
"Either way, I am glad that I will not be leaving this in Lannister hands," he responded, hissing again due to his leg.
"There is a healer onboard the ship," Varys said. "He shall look at your leg and do what he can. I am certain that Pycelle has not done even half of his best in treating your leg, but then again he is a lackey of Tywin Lannister, and more than likely does as Cersei tells him to."
It took a couple of hours to leave the Red Keep with Eddard in his condition, but once they were outside Varys led them to a stable where some others had already gathered. Varys's agents were all assembled along with Elyn, who was standing next to Sansa. Eddard's eldest daughter had tears running down her face, and her hair was quite wild having not been brushed back before being brought down to the stables. Upon seeing her father Sansa ran to him and threw her arms around him, apologising profusely for going to Cersei and telling her of his plans to send her and her sister away. Eddard just held her and hushed her, telling her that things would be alright. After a few moments the group all mounted their horses and rode off towards the docks. It took an hour to reach the docks but once they did they all boarded the ship. Varys boarded after Eddard and Sansa had got on, and as he walked up the gangplank he saw Arya rush over to her father and wrap her arms around him. The ship began to sail not long after that, leaving the capitol behind them. They had gotten maybe five miles away before Varys could hear the ringing of bells back in King's Landing.
The group went below deck and got some much needed sleep, with Varys sleeping in a simple cot while Eddard and his daughters slept in the captain's cabin. When he woke up the following morning Varys made his way up to the top deck and looked out to the mainland from the ship's port side. He stood there for a short time before approaching the captain and talking with him. Once he was done talking Varys went below deck again and walked to where Eddard was sat with his daughters breaking their fast. Varys joined them as the food was served up. They ate quietly until their plates were almost empty, when Arya looked up and spoke.
"Has Robb marched south with an army father?" she asked, her voice full of curiosity. Eddard nodded his head.
"Lord Varys told me last night that Robb has already fought and defeated Tywin Lannister," he told her. "He also told me that Joffrey had initially ordered for my execution in response to his grandfather's defeat." Sansa and Arya both looked at their father in shock.
"But, I don't understand," Sansa said. "He promised to show you mercy after I spoke to him in the throne room. Why would he go back on his word?"
"Because he's a liar Sansa," Arya snapped at her elder sister. "That's all he does, why can't you..."
"ENOUGH!" Eddard shouted, making both girls jump. Arya looked shocked at hearing her father speak like that while Sansa looked on the verge of tears. When he spoke again his voice was stern. "My leg is still in agony from being wounded all those weeks ago, I'm worried about your mother and how she is handling all of this, and I am concerned for Robb and how he is managing this whole situation. I do not need you two at each others throats, not today of all days." Varys watched as Eddard's daughters stared at their father, both shocked at his words. After a moment Sansa stepped up from her seat and fled the room in floods of tears.
"Sansa," Arya called out to her before following her. "Sansa wait, I'm sorry." As Arya left Varys heard Eddard sigh.
"War truly is easier than daughters," he mumbled after a minute of silence.
"They are still adjusting to what is happening to them my lord," Varys said. They sat quietly for a couple of minutes or so before he spoke again. "I had spoken with the captain not long before I joined you for breakfast. He says that we are nearing our destination quickly." Eddard looked up at him then.
"And where is it that we are going to?" he asked. Varys put his cutlery down onto the plate and pushed the plate away slightly.
"This ship is sailing for the mouth of the Trident river," he said. Eddard's eyes raised at Varys's words. "Once there we shall dock and meet up with some other friends of mine, after which we will ride for Harrenhal where Robb has left a large portion of his host. If my sources are correct then Robb has taken a few thousand men and is riding for Riverrun, where he no doubt intends to lift the siege and defeat Ser Jamie. With the Kingslayer as a prisoner Cersei will have no choice but to listen to you if she wants her beloved brother released unharmed." Eddard snorted at that.
"That woman will never give up the throne," Eddard said as he lifted his cup of water up to his mouth to drink. He took a long drink before setting the cup down. "Stannis will have a hard time getting Renly to follow him."
"Indeed he will my lord," Varys said. "However, it would be most wise if neither of the Baratheon brothers were to sit the Iron Throne." Eddard looked up at Varys then, his eyes hard.
"Stannis is Robert's lawful heir," he spoke. "Renly is next in line until Stannis's wife gives him a son. The laws of succession are very clear in this matter." Varys held his hand up in peace.
"Very true Lord Eddard, but ultimately irrelevant," Varys responded. "My little birds on Dragonstone have reported that Lord Stannis has taken a Shadowbinder into his service. A red priestess by the name of Mellisandre, a servant of the Lord of Light, R'hllor. Much like old Thoros of Myr, but a hundred times more pious and just as fanatical. She has burned many 'heretics' in R'hllor's name on Dragonstone, and word has it that she has converted Lord Stannis to her religion, and intends to make all of Westeros cast aside the Seven and the old gods, or burn." Varys let his words hang in the air for a moment, taking a sip of water before he continued. "And Lord Renly has also declared himself as King down in Highgarden where he has married Lord Mace Tyrell's daughter Lady Margaery, something that Lord Mace has wanted for a long time or so I have heard. Both brothers will come to blows soon enough. If Renly should take the Iron Throne then he will become a worse king than Robert ever was, and the debts will worsen. If Stannis on the other hand were to take the throne then there will be a war of faith, one much worse than when the Andals first came to Westeros for there will be three religions fighting each other, four if you count the Ironborns Drowned God." Varys watched as Eddard thought about his words clearly before sinking his head into his hands.
"Stannis's new religion will clash with the rest of us, then eventually the more pious followers of the Seven will rise up and the faith militant could more than likely be brought back, and that will lead to conflict with the North and any who hold the old gods," Eddard realised. Varys nodded his head when Eddard looked at him. The Northman sat back in his seat and drew a deep breath. "Too much," he said. "Too much bloody war. I'm sick of it Varys. I should've just stayed in Winterfell with my wife and family. I should never have taken the girls either." He looked over his shoulder to where his daughters had run off to earlier. "Sansa's direwolf would still be alive, Arya's friend would never have been run down by the Hound, she would not have had to kill that stable boy that she told me about last night. And Jon..." Eddard trailed off then, looking down at the table in front of them. "Jon would never have had to go to the Wall. He would not have taken the black." Varys heard the regret in Eddard's voice then upon speaking of Jon Snow, the boy he has claimed as his bastard son. Varys cleared his throat then.
"Actually my lord I have heard that Jon Snow is no longer at the Wall," he said.
"What?" Eddard said, his eyes wide with horror. "Please don't tell me he has deserted."
"No my lord, he has not," Varys said reassuringly. "In fact he has not taken his vows at all. From what I have heard Jon was to be made a steward instead of a ranger, and so he left in anger. He had made some friends at the Wall, including Randyll Tarly's son Samwell, whom he had been helping to adjust at the Wall. Ser Alliser Thorne, Castle Black's master-at-arms, took offence to that, and so made life hellish for him, and I do believe that he had a hand in making Jon a steward. Well anyway, as Jon was leaving he was joined by three others who had not taken their vows, including Samwell Tarly. He left for Moles Town before going back to Winterfell." Eddard sighed at that information, rubbing his forehead.
"How is it that you even have so many spies all across Westeros?" he asked. Varys smiled.
"In my profession one learns to cultivate sources beyond wherever one goes," he said. "It has allowed me to learn much over the years without having to go far. By making a contact in Pentos I can learn of matters going on within a certain branch of society in Pentos. By having several contacts in different branches of society I can learn of much more going on within Pentos, and perhaps even beyond. With the right contacts I can have information on what business is happening between a magister of Pentos and his mistresses family, and I can learn of this Pentoshi merchant's shady deals with slavers from Volantis. The same principle allows me to learn of much here in Westeros, such as which minor lord from King's Landing has a preference for boys, which knight from the Reach has a bastard from a woman he raped some years back, to which Lord Paramount of the North has been sheltering his long dead sister's son by a certain silver prince." That last sentence got a look of fear from Eddard's eyes, but the fear was gone soon, replaced with a dangerous look that made the Lord of Winterfell look very much like the beast upon House Stark's banners.
"Never, ever, bring that up," Eddard hissed quietly. "I will not allow that to be known to anyone." Varys shook his head at Eddard's stubbornness.
"Like it or not my lord, Jon Snow, or should I say Jon Targaryen, is the rightful Crown Prince," Varys spoke quietly. Eddard glared at him, anger clear in his eyes.
"Rhaegar Targaryen lured my sister with sweet words, and when she learned of his true intent she tried to leave, only to be held against her will and then raped by that cretin again and again. Jon has believed that he is my son for as long as he has been with me, why should I tell him otherwise?"
"So you believe it is alright to let the rightful king believe that he is a bastard?" Varys challenged.
"Far better than to realise that he is the result of his mother being raped," Eddard answered, his voice quiet yet furious. He struggled up from his chair and limped to the other side of the room, picking up a cane that had been left there for him to use.
"What?" a voice spoke suddenly, startling both men. Eddard looked to the doorway where his daughters had left the room from, and Varys followed his eyes. Stood in the doorway, with a look of hurt in her eyes, was Arya, with Sansa stood right behind her.
Arya
Arya rushed after Sansa as she cried. She was shocked by her father's words at them, but she did not think that Sansa would break down like that. Arya ran to her elder sister and threw her arms around her waist.
"Sansa, stop," she said.
"Let me go you stupid girl!" she snapped between tears. Arya refused to let her go, stopping her from going anywhere.
"Please Sansa, I'm sorry," she repeated.
"No you're not, you always ruin everything!" Sansa yelled at her.
"No I don't," Arya pleaded, hating how pathetic she sounded but not caring right now. "Can't you see that right now I just want my big sister?" she yelled. Sansa looked down at her, her eyes full of hate.
"You have always caused me trouble, ever since we were still young children," she said accusingly. "You have done nothing but be a pain for as long as I can remember, always being so childish, running around with Robb and Bran as if you were a boy."
"As if you haven't done those things," Arya snapped back. "I remember when we used to run in the godswood together, throwing snowballs at each other and rolling in the mud." Sansa looked at her then as if she were mad. "I remember climbing up a tree after Bran and how I fell and hurt my leg. Do you remember that? Bran came down quickly, crying thinking that he was in trouble, while you..."
"I held you," Sansa interrupted, her voice shaky and her eyes softer. "I hugged you and held you as you cried. It was the first time you ever cried over something like that. Bran came over and hugged you saying he was sorry over and over again. That was... that must have been about three or four years ago." Arya nodded her head then, tears now running down her face at the memory of the times before Sansa started to behave like a proper lady like their mother always wanted them to be. As the tears run down her cheeks Sansa wrapped her arms around Arya and pulled her into her then. "I am so sorry Arya," she said. "I'm sorry for not standing by you after what happened at the river, when Joffrey threatened you and Nymeria protected you. I'm sorry about Mycah, and for not caring. If I had told the truth then maybe he would still be alive. Maybe Lady would still be alive. Maybe..." Sansa trailed off then and both sisters then cried together for the first time in years.
For the last few weeks Arya has had trouble with sleeping, and not just from the fear of being caught by Lannister men. She has been afraid of what was happening to her father and Sansa. Ever since she ran from the training room where Syrio was teaching her the Braavosi Water Dance style of sword fighting she has been worried for Sansa, and that had led to her remembering the times when she and Sansa would play together, chasing after each other and throwing snowballs and mud at one another and being scolded by their mother for it. Sansa used to love rolling about in the mud, until she decided one day to sit with Septa Mordane and listen to her lessons on needle work and dancing and other ladylike activities. Since then Arya felt that she had lost a playmate, so she moved on to playing with her brothers.
Running from the training room as Syrio held off Ser Meryn Trant of Joffrey's Kingsguard had been the most frightening time of her life, but nothing had prepared her for what she had to do after she got away. Remembering how Syrio said that fear cuts deeper than swords she ran to the stables, stepping around the dead bodies that had littered the ground, until she got to a horse. A stable boy appeared and she asked him for help, but he decided to take her to the Queen. Arya had forgotten all of Syrio's training then, and froze with fear until she remembered something Jon had told her; "Stick 'em with the pointy end," he had said. So Arya did just that, and thrust Needle into the stable boy's chest. The boy died a moment after she drew Needle out, and then she had run away.
As she stood there in her sister's arms she told her of what had happened to her, and what she had done. Sansa was shocked, but she quickly recovered and rubbed her hand up and down her arm.
"It'll be alright Arya," she said. "I'm sure it will be."
"But how can it Sansa?" Arya said. "I've... I have killed someone. A boy our age. I murdered him just to stay alive." It was the first time Arya had given it any real thought. The boy's face would float in front of her whenever she did get any sleep, and she would usually wake up sweating and scared. Yes, she thought to herself, I murdered that boy. He had his whole life ahead of him and I just snuffed it out.
"Father will help," Sansa suggested. "He has had to... to kill people before." She nodded her head as she wiped a stray tear from her face. "And we both need to apologise to him anyway." Arya snorted a laugh at that.
"We'll have to face him anyway, so yeah, let's go and see him," Arya agreed.
As the sisters walked back to where they had originally run from they heard their father speaking with Lord Varys. Arya could not make out what they were saying to start with, but the closer they got the more she heard.
"Rhaegar Targaryen lured my sister with sweet words, and when she learned of his true intent she tried to leave, only to be held against her will and then raped by that cretin again and again. Jon has believed that he is my son for as long as he has been with me, why should I tell him otherwise?" she heard her father say as she approached the doorway. Arya heard Sansa gasp at their father's words.
"Jon?" she said uncertainly as Lord Varys spoke. "Did I just hear right?" Arya walked quietly to the doorway with Sansa not far behind.
"Far better than to realise that he is the result of his mother being raped," she heard her father say. Although he was quiet Arya could tell that her father was angry. She stopped at the doorway and watched as father was limping over to where a cane was laying on the other side of the room.
"What?" she said, her voice drawing the attention of both men. Varys was off to her right but she was not looking at him. Instead she looked at her father, and saw the look of fear and regret in his eyes. Arya felt betrayed all of a sudden. "Jon is not my brother?" she asked, her voice trembling.
"Oh Arya," Eddard began as he limped closer, but Arya stepped back.
"Jon, who I always thought of as my brother, is not my brother but in fact my cousin?" Arya said in a loud voice. "How could you? HOW COULD YOU!?" Arya felt the anger running through her then. "WHY DID YOU LIE TO US!" she shrieked.
"Arya stop," Sansa said, her voice trembling. But Arya was too angry. She turned and run, ignoring her father's voice as he called out to her.
Arya ran through the ship, dodging past the legs of the crew as she did. She ran until she was on the other side of the ship where the captain's cabin was, but instead of going in there she ran into another room and locked herself in it. She moved a table to block the door and then walked over to the bed at the other side of the room, where she threw herself onto the mattress and wept. She felt that a good portion of her life had been a lie; for a long time she thought that Jon was her bastard brother, her father's son by another woman. She had never given it much thought in the past other than to think that father was doing the right thing by raising Jon at Winterfell. But now she knew the truth, and it hurt; it hurt more than the thought that her father had been with another woman in the past. As she lay there crying Arya wondered if her mother actually knew what she had just found out today, and if she hated Jon because he was the son of her Aunt Lyanna Stark and Prince Rhaegar Targaryen. The result of her aunt being raped and then dying would be enough reason to hate Jon, but father had always cared for him, only raising his voice to him whenever he misbehaved, which was not often.
As she lay there on the bed crying Arya lost all track of time. She lay there on the bed, the tears pouring down her face, leaving a damp pillow where her head was laying down upon. She must have fallen asleep or something because when she looked out of the small window that looked out to the sea the sky was darker. She thought about leaving the room but decided not to. As she sat up though there was a loud banging on the door.
"Milady, could you please open the door?" a voice called from the other side.
"GO AWAY!" Arya shouted. The banging continued.
"Please milady, your lord father is worried for you," the voice called out. "Would you please open the door?" Arya lay back down on the bed and covered her ears with her hands. The banging continued though. "Milady?"
"JUST GO THE FUCK AWAY!" she screamed loudly. After a moment Arya realised what she had just said, and she was quite shocked at herself. But the banging had ceased. Arya was left in peace for a short while until the banging returned. This time though the banging was louder.
"Arya!" the stern voice of her father yelled through the door. "Open this door at once!" Arya scrunched her eyes shut and tried to will herself to sleep, knowing that she would likely be in trouble now for cursing. "Arya!" Realising that not answering would not work Arya sat up from the bed.
"GO AWAY FATHER!" she shouted in anger. There was silence for a moment before her father spoke again.
"Please child, open the door," he called out.
"WHY SHOULD I?" she yelled. "JUST LEAVE ME ALONE! I HATE YOU, DO YOU HEAR ME? I FUCKING HATE YOU!"
"ARYA STARK!" her father's voice roared through the door. "NEVER, EVER SPEAK TO ME LIKE THAT AGAIN! NOW OPEN THIS DOOR AT ONCE!" Her resolve failed her then, and Arya walked over to the door, her eyes streaming tears like a fountain. She pushed the table out of the way and then unlocked the door before she pulled it open. When the door opened her father's hand grabbed the door and then opened it all the way. Arya saw through her watery eyes that her father was stood with a stern face, Sansa stood beside him with a scandalised look and Lord Varys stood just further behind.
Arya retreated into the room, walking back to the bed and sitting on it, looking only at the floor. She still felt angry, but now she was also feeling ashamed of herself. Never in her life has she ever spoken to anyone like that, not even her father. But now she knew she was in trouble. As she was sat down her father limped into the room and sat himself down beside her.
"I am very disappointed in you Arya," he said. The tears continued to flood down her cheeks as she leant into her father's side.
"I'm sorry father," she said weakly. "Forgive me." She spluttered as she wept into her father's side. After a moment she felt her father's arm wrap across her back. Arya continued to cry as her father sent Sansa back to the captain's cabin and dismissed Lord Varys. They sat there like that for a long time until Eddard spoke again.
"I understand that you are hurting Arya," he spoke, his voice softer this time. "I know that this revelation has been a huge shock. However that is no excuse for behaving the way you did. I want you to promise me that you will never, ever talk back to me like that again." Arya looked up at her father's face then and wiped her hands over her own face. She nodded her head.
"I promise father," she choked out. "I promise to never speak like that to you again." Eddard looked down at her, his face looking stern but his eyes soft. After a moment he wrapped Arya into a fatherly embrace, and Arya let the tears flow freely, her anger disappearing as she cried.
"You are so much like her Arya," Eddard said after a few minutes had passed. Arya looked up at him then, and saw a look of pain in his eyes. "Your Aunt Lyanna. You look like her when she was your age. When I held you in my arms for the first time I noticed just how much you resembled Lyanna."
"What was she like?" Arya asked in a hoarse voice. She saw a slight smile form on her father's face then.
"Very much like you," he said. "She always chased after me and Brandon, always wanting to play with us. She always played with Benjen too, once he was old enough. She was always smiling and laughing, so full of mischief, just like you. She preferred to play with swords rather than learn how to sew. She loved riding her horse, feeling the breeze in her hair. And she wasn't too enthusiastic about the idea of marrying." Arya giggled at that. It was true that the idea of being married did not appeal to her, but Arya knew that it would happen at some point unless she ran away or something. Just then a thought crept into her mind.
"Did Aunt Lyanna ever accept the idea of marrying?" she asked. Her father looked thoughtful for a moment before nodding his head slightly.
"Eventually," he said. "But she never wanted to be married to Robert. She knew of his ways with women before she met him. Once, after I introduced them to each other when Robert and I visited Winterfell when I was still fostered at the Eyrie, as she was sat in the godswood I tried to make her see past Robert's faults. Robert loved her fiercely, and wanted nothing more than to marry her. But despite my words your aunt did not agree with me. When I tried to get her to accept Robert, and plead with her that he would change for her, she said to me, 'Love is sweet, dearest Ned, but it cannot change a man's nature'." Arya looked at her father then and saw a horrific pain in his eyes. Her father looked ready to cry then, or maybe it was just the water in Arya's eyes.
They sat in silence for a long time, Arya no longer weeping. As they sat Arya thought about Jon, and wondered how he would take this news. She wondered if he would react like she did, or more likely just stand there and seethe quietly. Then she wondered if her father intended to tell Jon the truth. Arya looked up at Eddard then and tugged his sleeve.
"What will you tell Jon when you next see him?" she asked. Her father looked at her for a long time before he responded.
"I don't know Arya," he said. "I honestly don't know." Arya sighed at that.
"It's not fair that Sansa and I know and he doesn't," she said. "We should go to the Wall and speak with him."
"Jon is not at the Wall Arya, not anymore," Eddard responded. Arya began to panic then, thinking that Jon had deserted which even she knew meant death.
"But why? Why would he risk his life..."
"He hasn't deserted child," Eddard cut in. "Varys told me that he had heard that he never took his oath, and so he has come south." At that Arya smiled slightly.
"Good," she said. "I never wanted him to leave and join the Night's Watch. It was stupid of him to go in the first place."
"The Night's Watch is an honourable order Arya," Eddard said. "He would've done well there if not for the scheming of a man who took a disliking to him." Arya felt angry at that.
"Who was it?" she asked quickly. "Tell me who it was so I can deal with them." Her father laughed at that.
"Honestly Arya, what can a wee girl your age do to a knight who has served at the Wall for fifteen years?" he asked her. Arya opened her mouth to respond but then she stopped herself. She wanted to say that she would kill such a person, but then the memory of her killing the stable boy came back to her. She shuddered at the thought of taking someone's life. As she sat there her father put his hand on her shoulder. "Arya? Are you okay?" he asked. After a moment she shook her head.
"No," she managed to say. "That boy's face won't leave me be. I see his face every time I close my eyes. I see him sneering at me as he reaches for me before he gasps in agony as I shove Needle into him. The look on his face as he dies..." As she talks about it Arya remembers that day in vivid detail. As she remembers the tears start up again, and soon Arya begins to cry. As she does her father pulls her into his side.
"I know how it feels," he says. "The first time is always the worst. It is never easy to take a man's life, but for some it becomes second nature. For me, it has sadly become a part of life, but that is the way of a lord of the North." Arya sniffled then as she listened to her father.
"The man who passes the sentence should swing the sword," she said quietly.
"Aye," Eddard responded. "The man who passes the sentence. A woman should never have to take a life if it can be helped." Arya looked up at him then.
"But the Mormont women are fighters too," she said. "Don't they have to kill?"
"Well, House Mormont are the exception to the rule," he said, giving Arya a wink. Arya laughed lightly at that. "You know, before we received word of Robert coming to Winterfell, your mother and I discussed sending you to Bear Island to foster under Lady Maege Mormont." Arya looked up to him then, her eyes wide.
"Really?" she asked.
"Well, we disagreed over it. I thought, and still think, that it will do you good to learn from a woman like her," he replied. Arya has always liked women like the Mormont women of Bear Island. In fact she likes any woman who can wield a blade and defend herself. The idea of learning under the She-Bear herself has always appealed to her.
"I think I would like that father," she said. She looked up to him and saw him smile.
"If you do go to Bear Island it will not be easy," he said to her. "Lady Maege is a stern woman, and she will teach you about the more womanly arts before she will teach you anything about combat." Arya rolled her eyes in annoyance at that.
"Sewing and singing are useless," she said, making her father chuckle.
"Why don't you ask her daughter Dacey when you meet them?" he suggested. "I'm sure she and her sisters will help you however they can. Anyway, enough of this," he said as he stood up. Arya looked up at him and saw the serious look in his eyes. "We must all sit down and talk; you, me and Sansa. There is much that I need to tell you both, particularly about Joffrey." Eddard held his hand out to her as he spoke. Knowing that her father would probably have a lot to say Arya took his hand and stood up from the bed, following her father as he walked out of the room.
Brynden
"Wait, please!" the Lannister man-at-arms begged just before Ser Brynden Tully thrust his sword into his throat. As the lad gasped for breath, clutching at his throat as his blood pumped out, Brynden shook his head. Another dozen men of the Westerlands dead. Tywin Lannister has indeed much to answer for. Brynden looked around the wood that he and his men were in; typical forests as can be found throughout the Riverlands, just with the unpleasant infestation of Lannister lackeys. It angered him that war had come to his brother's lands yet again. But as always whenever there is war in Westeros the Riverlands always suffer for it.
Cleaning the lad's blood off his blade, Brynden walked back to his horse where his second-in-command was standing holding the reins of both of their horses. The man was a typical Northman, with a beard and a weather-worn face. He was missing his left ear, no doubt from frostbite, and had a scar on the right side of his face.
"Another bunch o' Lannister scum sent to their gods," the man, named Beren, said. "The sooner we kill the lot of 'em the better. I'm sick o' their bleating when we kick 'em down." The man spoke with a gruff voice. Brynden mounted his horse and surveyed the area around them.
"The Lannisters made the mistake of sacking my brother's lands Beren," Brynden spoke as he looked around at the men who were checking the dead Westermen. "We Tullys take care of our own, though I would love to beat sense into my nephew right now." Beren laughed at his words.
"Aye, a good clout ne'er did me any harm," he said. "Still, the boy sounds like he needs more than a wallop after trying to take the Kingslayer on. If only you had a couple of lads of yer own Blackfish, then they could keep him from doing stupid stuff like that." Brynden smiled slightly at the man's words. He thought back to before Robert's Rebellion when he still lived in Riverrun, constantly putting up with Hoster going on at him about not taking a wife and siring children, and forever arguing with him about it. It was after one argument about it that he became known as the Blackfish, and went so far as to take a black trout as his personal sigil. "Ah, anyway we should get moving," Beren said, breaking Brynden from his thoughts. "With this lot o' fools dead we can get on with hunting others that may be hanging around. We must be getting close to yer old home?"
"Another day or so until we reach Riverrun," Brynden said. "There will likely be three camps laying siege to the castle. We will need to observe them from a distance and come up with plans until Robb gets here." Beren hummed in agreement.
"He's doing quite well so far, isn't he?" he asked as they urged their horses on while the men finished off what they were doing. Brynden looked at him. "Must admit I didn't expect much from 'im, seeing as he has Southron blood in 'im." Brynden eyed the man up carefully after those words.
"Is that any way to talk of one's liege lord's son?" he asked. Beren gave a hearty laugh before patting Brynden on his shoulder.
"The last couple of ruling Stark lords have all had Northern mothers, back to the Ned's grandfather whose mother was a Blackwood, who come from the Riverlands," Beren said. "There's Southron blood in the Starks these days, but they've been careful to choose decent women to birth their sons and daughters when they marry outside of the North." Brynden frowned at Beren's words. He had heard of this piece of Stark history years ago from Eddard's long dead older brother Brandon whom Cat was meant to marry, but was surprised that a commoner like Beren knew this.
"I must say you are quite well informed Beren," he stated. Beren smirked at him.
"It is good for people to know of their ruling lords family I think," he stated. "Plus my pa served under the Ned's father, Lord Rickard, many years ago, just before me ma pushed me out o' her belly." Brynden nodded his head at that.
"He learned much I take it?" he asked, and Beren's smirk widened.
"It was at Winterfell that me ma and pa met," he answered. "Ma always taught me and my brothers what she could, with pa helping out here and there. She had served the Starks in the kitchens of Winterfell for a good few years before pa came to serve as a soldier during some conflict or another. Ma was a strong woman, built for the winters when they arrived. Just a shame that we didn't leave the mountains sooner during the last winter a few years back." Beren fell silent then and Brynden did not push the topic, guessing that that was when Beren's mother died. After a few minutes of silence Brynden looked at the Northman.
"Is it in the northern mountains where you live?" he asked. Beren looked at him and nodded, a proud smile framing his face.
"Aye Blackfish," he said. "We of the northern mountains are a hardy folk, and loyal. The Starks have ruled us for thousands of years, treating us with respect. A few Queens of the North have hailed from our mountains, taken from the more powerful of the clans, such as the Wulls and the First Flints and the Harclays, though few ever remember that. We live in the high valleys and the mountain meadows during the summers, and retreat to the various keeps and holdfasts dotted about the mountains when the winter comes, or seek refuge in the winter town outside of Winterfell. The younger ones do that anyway, while us older folk usually leave to make ourselves useful for our people. Many other older men go out hunting instead, though most are ne'er seen until spring, when they can be put to rest. Yet many others are ne'er seen again, falling prey to wolves and bears. Even the beasts need to eat during winter." Brynden felt a slight shudder at the man's attitude to life. From what he can gather the mountain folk are a straightforward people with a simple take on life and death. Growing up as a child Brynden always thought of Northmen as being serious and dour from the tales he was told, but now he wonders just how true those tales were.
As they talked they rode through the woods south of Riverrun. Brynden learned much of life in the North beyond Winterfell. He has heard much from his niece Cat when she sent letters to him during his time serving as Knight of the Gate in the Vale of Arryn, but that was always in regards to Winterfell and the immediate surrounding area. As Beren told him of life in the North so too did Brynden tell him of life in the Riverlands. Both men reminisced about their younger years, and eventually they got talking about their wartime exploits.
"So anyway," Beren started as he recalled an event at the start of the Greyjoy Rebellion, "there we were, me and several dozen other lads from the mountains, all gathered under Theo Wull, who is in charge of Clan Wull. We are sat in Winterfell just waiting for the Ned to tell us to shift our arses south o' the Neck, when Greatjon Umber looks down at me and says, 'huh, you think you can take on some Ironborn shits with that little blade of yours'." Brynden noticed that Beren's impression of the Greatjon was very uncanny. "So I take out me sword from its scabbard and show it to him and say, 'this here blade has slain more Ironborn than you've ever had, and I'd wager you've probably fucked more whores than I've killed men.' So after that Greatjon just stares at me, looking shocked at what I tell 'im, and while I'm putting on a smug grin I'm thinking to meself, 'oh shit I've really put my foot in it now'. As it turned out though the big Umber has a sense o' humour and he just couldn't stop laughing his head off." Brynden laughed at the story that Beren told him, and the two men continued with their stories until nightfall, when they set up camp for the night.
The next morning Brynden wakes up just as the sun is rising, to find Beren and five of his men stood up and waiting for the rest of the outriders to wake up. Brynden grabs a piece of hare that is being cooked on the camp fire while Beren wakes the rest of the men up. After they have all had something to eat the men mount their horses and ride to Riverrun. It takes them a couple of hours, during which they encounter a small patrol of six men who they kill quickly, dumping their bodies into the Red Fork to be swept away from Riverrun and so prevent the Lannister host from learning of their presence. Brynden and his outriders dismount their horses and move through the woods, walking quietly for half an hour until they come upon a fallen tree. Brynden drops down and crawls up to the tree, where he sees Riverrun in the distance. The old castle of House Tully sat with the Tumblestone river north of it flowing into the Red Fork that was south of it. In front of the west wall is a man-made ditch that was currently flooded to have all three sides of Riverrun bordered by water. Brynden noticed the three camps of Westermen that were laying siege to his brother's home.
"Just as you said Blackfish," Beren said quietly. "Three camps, all cut off from each other by the rivers. You Tullys picked a good place for your castle."
"Indeed," Brynden agreed. He watched as the men in the camps went about their business, while on the ramparts he saw his brother's guardsmen patrolling the walls. He also noticed from the distance a group of men who were not in the colours of House Tully, but in the colours of House Blackwood. As he watched he saw a tall older man with bright yellow armour walking among the guardsmen, with long dark hair that looked to be greying. "Ah, trust you to take charge Tytos," Brynden murmured once he realised that he was looking at the Lord of Raventree Hall, Tytos Blackwood. While he and his outriders may have been a good mile away from the edges of the southern camp, Brynden's eyes were still sharp enough to make out people from a distance.
"If I remember rightly, the Blackwoods used to live in the North thousands of years ago, until the Starks drove them from the Wolfswood," Beren said quietly. "And now they are friends with the Ned and his family, and loyal to your brother. Don't know much about Tytos Blackwood, but I've heard he's alright." Brynden nodded his head.
"He's a good man, and a fierce fighter," he said. "I'm sure he would rather be skinning the Kingslayer instead of being trapped in Riverrun." Brynden watched Tytos's movements until he walked into a tower and out of sight. Brynden then turned to look at Beren and tap him on his shoulder. "We should head back," was all he said.
The outriders made their way back to the horses, where half of them had stayed behind. Once there they gathered around a small camp fire and discussed what they all saw. Brynden listened as the men all gave their input, until he saw sudden movement to his right. He instinctively reached for his sword, the Northmen around him doing the same, as the man who drew his attention walked into view. The man was a knight that Brynden had met years ago, when said knight was still an up-jumped squire. He had a longsword secured to his belt, and wore plate armour with the sigil of House Frey upon it. The man was Ser Jammos Frey, one of the many sons of Lord Walder Frey of the Twins.
"Ser Jammos," Brynden stated. "What brings you here?"
"My lord brother's command Ser Brynden," he said. Brynden raised his brow at that.
"Lord brother?" he asked the Frey knight. Jammos looked down at the ground before shrugging his shoulders.
"My father, Lord Walder, is dead," he said. Brynden was surprised at this news, but he did not let it show. He really had no love for Walder Frey, and was glad to hear such news. "My eldest brother Stevron now rules the Twins, and as such is the Lord of the Crossing. He has sent me along with some other knights to scout the lands surrounding Riverrun. Upon recognising you I had to make our presence known to you."
"Wonderful," Brynden remarked sarcastically, which Jammos failed to notice, or if he did he did not show it. "Well then, where is Lord Stevron then?"
"I believe he is riding to meet up with your niece's son, Robb Stark," he answered. "He said he wants to treat with the pup himself."
"Watch your tongue Frey," Beren spat. "That's the Ned's son your talking about. The 'pup', as you call him, smashed the Old Lion at the Trident." Jammos seemed to be uncomfortable with Beren's stern words. "He is no pup, and you'll show 'im respect in the future."
"I don't take orders from some Northern barbarian," Jammos stated, as if he had found his backbone. Brynden stepped forward, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword.
"No boy," he said. "But you will take orders from me. That is my niece's son as you rightly pointed out. The grandson of your liege lord. By insulting him you insult my brother. If you insult my brother you insult me, and that my good ser, is something you do not want to do." Jammos Frey seemed to tremble then, and Brynden glowered at the man. I wouldn't be at all surprised if he pissed himself just now, he thought. "Watch your words in future Ser Jammos. Now tell us what you have learned." And so the Frey knight told Brynden and his men what the Freys knew about the siege, and he also learned that the Mallisters of Seagard had marched south to lend aid, with Lord Jason and his son and heir Patrek leading the host from Seagard. After the conversation with the Frey knight Brynden tells his companions to ready their camp and wait for Robb to arrive.
He just hoped that he did not have to wait too long...
Author's Note: So, there it is.
Now as you've noticed, I have gone for the old R+L=J theory (for the unenlightened that is Jon Snow's true parents being Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark). I firmly believe that if this theory is correct then it happened in one of two ways: 1, Lyanna was completely willing to go with Rhaegar and went ahead with his plans, not thinking things through carefully; or 2, Lyanna left willingly, but then realised that she made a mistake but was held prisoner and then raped by Rhaegar. Of course we do not yet know the truth on this matter, and we never will until GRRM tells us himself. For my story I'm going with the latter possibility.
I will stick with that but I would like to know what you guys think should happen here. Should I go with a Targaryen restoration with Jon as the new king, or should I go ahead with breaking the Seven Kingdoms apart? Let me know about your thoughts guys, but bare in mind that once I have made a choice in this matter, my mind WILL be set and there won't be any going back.
I hope you've enjoyed this chapter guys, number 3 will be started once I know what I'm doing. Bye for now.