Guess the streak continues. This chapter falls after 'GOT Sansa I' and concurrent with 'GOT Eddard III' This is, in my opinion, the most that I'm going to deviate from AGOT canon, simply because Olyvar's inclusion in affairs, as well as his personality, calls for it.
Disclaimer: I do not own nor do I claim any ideas, places, or characters from the 'A Song of Ice and Fire' series. Cheers
"Ride, damnit!" The fury had not dulled since Olyvar learned of Arya's disappearance. It had taken the coaxing of both his uncle and Maester Colemon to prevent him from striking Joffrey down after hearing rumors of prince's jests and insults towards his cousin. Now, having heard that Arya had been retrieved by a party headed by Jory Cassel on the fourth day of searches, he rode with his guard of twenty back to the castle of Lord Darry, where the royals had taken up residence.
"My lord, remember to calm yourself!" Olyvar had heard the maester's call, but completely ignored it. He was furious at the turn of events. Firstly, he was already four days behind on his return to the Eyrie, where he still had to be sworn in as Lord of the Vale. But most important was that his cousin had been driven off by that arse of a prince.
They had now made it back to the edge of the encampment, where the Lannister men had set up their tents. "Make way for the Lord of the Vale!" Ser Hugh called out, the newly anointed knight sending warning that their horses were not likely to stop, and that those in their way would be at the mercy of the stampede. Men moved quickly out of the way as Olyvar and his men rode relentlessly towards the front of the castle.
"Lord Arryn-" A servant began to address him, one which Olyvar recognized as one of Cersei's men.
"Where?!" Olyvar demanded, dismounting his horse and nearly drawing his weapon if not for Ser Hugh and Maester Colemon restraining him. The man was a tad smaller than Olyvar and stood in fear of him, taken aback by the aggressiveness of the Lord of the Eyrie.
"T-the audience chambers." Olyvar shrugged off his own men, storming through the gate towards the chambers, ignoring the audible murmurs from behind him.
"My lord, I implore you. Be at peace, show dignity!" Colemon's pleas went unanswered again. The past four days had been a nightmare at Castle Darry, stronghold of the former Targaryen loyalists. Stark men, Lannister men, king's men, Darry men and Arryn men. All inhabiting a castle that was far too small for them, and all about to tear one another's throats out. "Be reasonable. We do not want a repeat of your spat with the queen's men!"
The confrontation had occurred on the first night of their stay, when Olyvar had overheard one of Cersei's knights belittle his father publically, unaware that he was Jon Arryn's son. Swords had been drawn, and it had nearly grown out of control before Robert and Lord Darry stepped in to quell both sides. A slight I will not forget. Olyvar grinded his teeth as he remembered the spat.
He came to the doors of the chambers, opening them without a second thought. He heard Joffrey's voice. "They all attacked me, and they threw Lion's Tooth into the river!"
"A likely tale, you being beaten by a girl!" Olyvar had not contained himself as he entered along with a small contingent of the men who had been searching and riding with him. The scene came into view. It was crowded, the king and queen seated at the head of the chambers, Joffrey standing near his mother. Lord Stark had been facing the king, but had turned around to see who had entered. He looked stern.
And there was little Arya, bathed in dirt with a hungry face. A sense of relief swept over Olyvar as soon as he saw her. Thank the Seven, she is safe. She gave a weak smile at him, but his anger would only allow him to nod to her.
The rest were of little consequence. Lord Darry was hiding his look well, Lord Renly smiling for reasons unknown, the Lord Commander Ser Barristan looking grave. And Lannister men shooting most hostile faces at the Lord of the Eyrie.
"How dare you!" Cersei rose from her chair, irate with the intrusion. "How dare you speak to your Prince in that matter!"
"Cersei!" Robert demanded. He looked older than usual, his face sunken in as he sat on Lord Darry's chair.
"You would let him speak ill against your son?!" The queen had extended her finger at Olyvar, pointing at him as she addressed her husband.
"Silence!" roared Robert, causing Cersei to lower her finger. She looked defiantly at Robert for a few moments before lowering herself in her chair, eyes now fixated on Olyvar, giving him a look which he repaid in kind. "Now, child. You will tell me what happened." Robert was now addressing Arya. "Tell it all, tell it true."
Arya recanted the story of how she and the butcher's boy, Mycah, had been playing in the Ruby Ford. Olyvar heard the door open behind him and saw his uncle's steward enter with Sansa, who Olyvar had been told had also been present at the confrontation. She looked dejected, her eyes averted downward as to not make contact with another pair.
Arya had gotten to a part where she said she had disarmed Joffrey and thrown his sword into the river, at which the king's brother began laughing aloud. "Ser Barristan." The king addressed the Lord Commander. "See my brother out."
"You are too kind. I can find the door myself." Renly bowed before addressing Joffrey. "Perchance you can recall to me later how a girl three years your lesser managed to disarm you so easily. And with just a broom handle." Renly made his way towards the door, but not before catching Olyvar's eyes. The Lord of the Storm's End was smiling from ear to ear about the situation, but Olyvar kept his face stoic. He had never liked Renly Baratheon, who came off as far too superficial for his tastes.
"Joffrey." As Robert regarded his son, Olyvar turned his head back to observe. "Tell your tale. And tell the truth, boy."
Joffrey was pale as could be, recalling a very different set of circumstances where he had been viciously attacked by Nymeria on orders of Arya and Mycah. A farce of a story if I've ever heard one. When he had finished, the hatred in Olyvar further increased.
Robert sighed. "Gods, what do I do about this? He says one thing, she another."
"There was another present." Eddard Stark turned in Olyvar's direction. "Sansa, come here and tell them what happened."
Olyvar observed his cousin walk towards her father, carefully avoiding his gaze. That's when he realized it. She's not going to speak truth. Olyvar had observed her falling over Joffrey ever since the arrival in Winterfell, and even more so when their betrothal had been announced, much to Olyvar's dismay. Now, she was going to betray the truth and her family. Sansa, please do the right thing. He only hoped that his thoughts reached her.
"I-I don't know what happened." Olyvar closed his eyes and breathed heavily as his cousin spoke hesitantly. "It-it all happened so fast…"
"Liar." Olyvar opened his eyes to the scene of Arya tackling her sister to the floor, pummeling her before being separated by Lord Stark and Jory Cassel. Sansa looked terrified of her sister, pale as the snow that had been on the ground of the North.
"That child is as vile as that filthy animal of hers." The queen's voice brought Olyvar's attention back to the front. "Robert, I want her punished."
"Gods, Cersei, she's only a child. Children fight. Ned, discipline yours, and I will discipline mine."
"Joffrey will bare those scars for the rest of his life." Cersei reminded him.
"Aye, and perhaps they shall serve as a lesson." Robert looked grimly at his son before he rose from his chair and began to exit from the chambers. Olyvar sighed out in relief. It seemed as if nothing had come of the ordeal.
"And what of that direwolf?" Cersei was still looking for a scapegoat. If she didn't get Arya, she will try her best to get Nymeria.
"There were no signs of it." Jory Cassel now made his voice heard.
"No? So be it?" Robert replied simply.
"No matter." Cersei turned darkly towards Lord Stark, voice eerily quiet, yet a gleam of triumph in her green eyes. "We have a wolf."
"No." Olyvar understood immediately and couldn't contain himself any further. This is madness.
His uncle must have understood the statement as well. "Robert, you cannot allow this."
The king sighed. "Ned, I'm sorry, but it must be done. That direwolf is a savage beast, and it would have turned on your girls eventually. Better to get her a dog." By this point, the girls had understood the implications of Robert's words. Arya shrieked and Sansa begged, both requesting mercy for Sansa's direwolf, Lady.
"Like the dog you gave your son, Robert?" Olyvar's fury was now directed at his father's ward. He had never had issue with Robert Baratheon before this, but he could now understand why Lord Stannis had been so bitter towards his brother. "Is this the type of justice that the Eyrie instilled in you?"
"Silence boy!" The shout did not come from the man known as King Robert Baratheon. It could not have, it was too loud, too fierce. No, somewhere Robert had called forth his past self, the Robert that had fought Rhaegar only a short distance away from here. That was the owner of that prideful shout. "Do not speak to me of Jon Arryn!"
"Robert, please." Ned Stark was begging his friend now. "For Jon's sake. For the love you bear me and my sister. I beg you."
"I will hear no more, Ned. From either of you." The king's voice gave a tone of finality to the decision. Sansa's wailings for mercy, Arya's fierce curses, his uncle's pleas. None of it mattered to the once great Stormlord. The man Olyvar had once admired, the man his father had once considered like a son, was gone, the only remnant being the shout that he had been given by the king.
"Then do it yourself, Robert." Olyvar turned in surprise to observe his uncle. He had never heard Eddard Stark's voice ring with as much coldness as it currently possessed. "Or do you lack the courage?"
Robert Baratheon simply looked into Ned Stark's eyes, and left without uttering a word.
"Send for Ilyn Payne. Where is that wolf chained?"
"There is no need." Ned Stark stood tall, addressing the queen with steel in his voice. "I shall do it myself."
The queen looked upon him with suspicion. "You? Why?"
"Lady is of the North. She deserves better than a butcher." Olyvar heard the anguish in his uncle's voice, and soon saw why. Sansa's look surely would cut his uncle the deepest. "Olyvar." He stepped forward at his uncle's behest. "Take Arya to her chambers. Jory, take Sansa."
"Come now, little one." Olyvar took Arya under his arm as he guided her out, giving one last look to the triumphant queen and her prince, who was also smirking. He turned heel and guided Arya to the door.
"Lord Arryn." He stopped immediately as he was addressed by the queen. "You would do well to control that temper of yours. What would your father say?"
"Olyvar. Go, now!" His uncle's demanding tone had been enough to quell him from action. Despite his desire to voice his opinion to the queen, he continued the task his uncle had entrusted him with.
They were in the stairwell when Arya spoke again. "I hate them." Her voice was quiet, but fierce.
He looked down at her puffy red eyes, her cheeks still stained by the marks of tears that had fallen. "I know, Arya, I know." She had his sympathies as they continued together up the tower, Ayra clutching his cloak the entire time, his hand on her head.
A/N: A far cry from the usually passive Lord of the Eyrie, isn't it?
No questions were submitted, but I've noticed a great deal of Myrcella and Olyvar interest, and I don't feel like I've addressed that matching properly. Might have to do a Myrcella chapter one of these times to at least show you guys the dynamic of their relationship. Because honestly, even though I have plans for where this betrothal will go, I still haven't really sat down and thought about how they would interact myself.