A/N: I don't usually post an update for a story so quickly, but considering the positive response to the first chapter, I think that you guys deserve it.

So far there's only been one question asked, posted by Clara Wright. She asks 'Are you going to give Olyver a paring or not?' While I don't have any plans on giving Olyvar a pairing at this point, I do think that this could change as the story goes on. Right now, I'm more interested in fleshing out Olyvar and giving him a personality that people can connect with and find believable. Speaking of which, this chapter is intended to introduce you more to Olyvar and his thoughts after the unfortunate passing of his father. Cheers :)

Father, why did you have to leave me? Olyvar Arryn thought in silence as he rode his horse up the Kingsroad. The boy had been lost in his own thoughts since the death of his father, the Hand of the King, unable to truly come to terms with the departure. He spoke very rarely, and did not engage anyone in conversation. In fact, the only three people he had spoken to after his father's death were his mentor Lord Stannis, King Robert and Maester Colemon, and despite the best attempts of the latter two, neither had helped to dull the pain he was feeling. Olyvar felt alone. Even when he was surrounded by his guard and by all the Baratheon men that were escorting the King and his family to Winterfell, he felt isolated from everyone around him.

But it was his loneliness that served as the reason why he was going to Winterfell in the first place. He had not seen his cousins in two years. Or was it three? Even Olyvar could not remember when the last time he had made the trip to visit his family in the North. But he did remember the feelings of joy and contentment he had felt during his last encounter with the Starks. He was hopeful that such feelings would be repeated again.

"Lord Arryn…Lord Arryn!" Olyvar's concentration was broken by the calls of his name. He turned to the left to see that men from the royal procession had doubled back to find him. "Lord Arryn, we come with a message." It was a foreign feeling to him, being addressed as Lord Arryn instead of simply Olyvar or 'Young Lord Arryn' as he had formally been addressed by. He cleared his throat before addressing the supposed messengers.

"From the King?" Olyvar inquired, curious as to why Robert would send men back to deliver a message. Often the King would simply ride back to where Olyvar was and deliver the message himself, usually requesting that he dine along with the royal family or to go off on a hunt or to do something else the King enjoyed.

"No, my lord. Our message is sent from Lord Tyrion Lannister. He requests an audience with you." Olyvar raised a brow in curiosity. He had come in contact with the infamous Imp on more than one occasion during his time in King's Landing, but had never engaged him in conversation. What is it that he would want with me? Olyvar pondered for a few moments. Likely to extend his condolences. That's what everyone else has been doing.

"Tell Lord Tyrion that I shall ride to him within the hour." The men nodded and rode back towards the front of the caravan, Olyvar watching with slight suspicion as they rode off.

"Lord Olyvar." Olyvar turned left to see that Maester Colemon had appeared, now riding alongside of him. The maester had been in the service of his father and the House of Arryn, and had been aiding in the recovery of his father on the night of Jon Arryn's passing. To Olyvar, the maester was a tentative, but honest and loyal man who served his house well.

"Maester Colemon. I did not hear you ride up alongside of me." Olyvar saw a concerned look on the maester's face, despite seeing the smile that Colemon seemed to always wear whenever he addressed a member of the Arryns. "You seemed troubled, Maester."

"I know it's not my place to question you, my lord, but do you think it wise to meet with the Imp? His reputation is a tad bit…dubious, if I may say."

"So I've heard." The whispers of the Imp's behavior had not miss Olyvar's ears. Not that it's any worse than Robert's. "It is curious that he would request my presence, but I don't feel as if there's any harm to indulging his summon." Compared to everyone else at court, Olyvar had honestly found the Imp to be the most enjoyable to be around. If it had been up to Olyvar, he would have preferred the company Tyrion Lannister over Littlefinger.

"Perhaps you're right, my lord. Still, I advise you to use caution when in the presence of lions." Olyvar nodded and looked forward once more. Colemon's advice was sound and warranted, the Lannister were not an easy house to trust. Especially after the sacking of the capital, which had been led by Lord Tywin's forces. And although his father never said anything to foster distrust with the lions of the West, his mother never shied away from sowing distrusts.

Mother. In the turmoil of his father's demise, he had nearly forgotten the flight of his mother, Lysa Tully, back to the Eyrie. She had tried to take him in the dead of night, a day after his father's passing. She had told him that King's Landing was not safe for him, that the Queen had killed her father, and that the lions of Lannister would do the same to him. She had been hysterical, and cursed at Olyvar when he had refused to go with her. The next morning, he found that she had also taken his brother Robert back with her, along with most of the entourage that had followed the Arryns to King's Landing.

"Maester." Olyvar called back to Colemon, who had been turning his horse to venture back to where he had come from in the procession.

"Yes, Lord Arryn?"

"The night after my father's death. You did not flee King's Landing with my mother and brother, when so many others did. Why?" It was true, out of many of the servants that the Arryns had brought with them to King's Landing, nearly all of them had fled back to the Eyrie. But Colemon had stayed alongside his young master instead of returning to the Eyrie alongside Olyvar's mother.

"My place is at your side, Lord Arryn. I was sworn to serve your father, and now I am sworn to serve you. And I promise you, my lord, that I will not fail you like I did your father." Olyvar could only give a small, forced smile at these words. The memory of his recently deceased father still pained him, but the maester's loyalty and council was greatly appreciated.

As Colemon left him, Olyvar's mind wandered back to the day after his mother fled, particularly to his conversation with his mentor. In truth, Olyvar had only refused his mother because he wanted to speak with the Lord of Dragonstone before taking any action. Stannis' words were wise and just, even if he did seem like he was in a foul mood most of the time. Even during their final meeting before parting, Olyvar felt that Stannis was trying to conceal that he was in a foul mood for some reason.

Their meeting had been brief, as Stannis said that he had business to take care of back at Dragonstone. It had been Stannis that had informed him of King Robert's intention of travelling north to visit his old friend, Eddard Stark, at Winterfell. He had also suggested that travelling alongside of Robert and meeting his Stark cousins would help to relieve the pain and loneliness that Olyvar was feeling.

Considering Stannis' guidance had rarely steered him incorrectly before, Olyvar decided to follow King Robert and his escort up to Winterfell for a visit with his family. From there, they would travel back down the Kingsroad into the Riverlands before parting off and making to the East and the Eyrie. Home. It was strange even thinking it, considering he had spent most of his life being fostered in King's Landing and Dragonstone. But the Eyrie would soon become his seat, along with the title of Warden of the East, as was traditionally given to the head of House Arryn.

Olyvar let some more time pass before spurring his horse forward towards the front in search of the Imp. Finally, he came across Tyrion Lannister, riding his horse near middle of the caravan. "Lord Tyrion. You requested my presence."

"Ahh, Lord Olyvar." The Imp flashed a crooked smile at Olyvar, one that was quite as unsettling as his mismatched eyes. "Yes, I do believe that I did send someone back to retrieve you. I was thankful to have received word that you would join me, although the fools I had sent to find you took their sweet time about it."

"The caravan is large, my lord. You can't blame them for the time it took to find me. Especially during times when I don't particularly like being found." The Imp's grin grew wider, apparently he had been amused with Olyvar's answer. "Tell me, Lord Tyrion. Have you called me here to express your condolences as well?"

"Oh no, Lord Arryn. They are offered, yes, but no, that's not the reason I sent for you. I called you here to see if you would be interested in playing a game with me."

"A game?" What are you getting at, Imp? "What sort of game, Lord Tyrion?" Caution and curiosity fought for control of Olyvar's mind, the warnings of Maester Colemon fighting with his desire to learn about this game the Imp mentioned.

"The game is called Cyvasse. Perhaps you've heard of it?" Olyvar's interest intensified. He had heard of the board game that was played by many of the nobles of Westeros. He had always wanted to try his hand at it, but Lord Stannis had always diverted his attention towards books and studies, calling the game a waste of time and 'childish'. That was one of the few faults of Stannis. Olyvar thought to himself with slight humor. He often forgot that I was a child.

"I've heard of the game, but Lord Stannis never let me play it while I was his ward."

"Naturally. Stannis never did have time for fun." Tyrion must have noticed that Olyvar had an annoyed look on his face upon hearing an insult towards his mentor, and quickly continued. "Perhaps you would like to learn at the next inn we stop at? I have been having a hard time finding a worthy opponent amongst us, and feel as if you would enjoy the game."

Olyvar thought about the proposition for a moment. He had always wanted to learn how to play, but the warnings of his mother and Maester Colemon curbed his enthusiasm slightly. After a moment to ponder, he agreed to take the Imp up on his offer. "Yes, I do believe that I would like to learn how to play this game. Thank you for your offer, Lord Tyrion."

"Wonderful to hear." Tyrion flashed another grin and turned to look forward. "Perhaps I can make you into a worthy opponent yet. We are a long way from Winterfell, and I don't want to be bored the entire way there."