*I had this written for some time, however, this past month has been a wild ride. Finals, graduation, moving, and changing lives. I hope you like this chapter as well.


299 AC

Eddard Stark

It was done…it was done.

Word had been sent from Robert ordering him to execute the golden twins of Tywin Lannister. As much as they deserved it, he knew in his heart that any chance at peace after this war would be destroyed.

It did not help them that seemingly the only useful Lannister, Tyrion, had ardently argued for their lives. He was Tywin's lawful heir, and he could certainly make their life hell after this war.

The little lord of lions was a curious fellow. After the news of his siblings arrest, and the subsequent war, he hadn't really opposed it in any way. Truly, it seemed he hoped for Cersei to be treated harshly, he even displayed a cold emotion at the mention of his father Tywin. The only member of his immediate family that he seemed to truly love was his brother the Kingslayer.

Lord Tyrion had continued to serve as the Master of Coin on his small council. Which…is where his suspicion had initially been raised.

The Reach had been oddly silent in this entire endeavor. Someone was leaking information from the capital, to Tywin, and others. His three initial suspects were Tyrion Lannister, Lord Varys, and Grand Maester Pycelle.

Stannis had originally wished for Lord Tyrion to be removed, however after he argued that the post-war effort would be much easier if they had at least one Lannister on their side. He too had harbored suspicion, yet after the efforts of Dale and Allard Seaworth, they knew that Lord Tyrion was not sending messages. In fact, the only thing the little lord seemed to enjoy was whoring, drinking, and taking jabs at Lord Stannis. Robert would've been amused at the antics, but he had grown weary of them greatly.

Regardless, that left Lord Varys and Grand Maester Pycelle…and Ned thought of a plan that could catch the great traitor in its midst.

He had gotten the idea from the small lord of lions actually.

One evening, just after the conclusion of a small council meeting, Lord Tyrion began explaining how he was placed in charge of all the sewers of Casterly Rock and Lannisport. 'The shit had never flowed so easily!' the half man had amusingly reported. However, drunkenly, Lord Tyrion told him of how he would have to send his whores to different locations in order from them being kept from his father.

And that inspired him. He would hold meetings with the two men individually and give different information. he would tell the two that he would publicly declare that Cersei Lannister and Joffrey Waters would be sent to two different locations for 'safe keeping' and see which news got out.

It was total horse shite of course. They'd continue to reside in the capital under arrest. But if Lord Lannister made a move in any way, he and Stannis would know which one had shared the fake information.

He wasn't concerned about the Grand Maester, he was fool enough to believe anything he said, however, Lord Varys was another issue. Although he wasn't omniscient, he was well played at this game of thrones, and in order for Lord Varys to believe him, he'd have to play the 'honorable fool' card.

He hated to use it. He liked to think he was honorable, at least more so than these fake knights of the south. Regardless, Lord Varys was experienced enough to see through a simple lie, so he'd have to really play the part.

And let the games begin.


"My Lord Hand, I…I…I…must protest…"

"Why Grand Maester, surely you do not support this traitorous affair that the former Queen and the Kingslayer engaged in?"

"Oh…oh…of course not my Lord Hand. Yet would it not be better for them to remain here, under the crown's protection. No doubt their safety could be integral to ending this disastrous war?"

More like saving your own hide in case you are the traitor.

"Grand Maester-" He held up his hand in mock resistance. "-I informed you of this matter as nicety. This will be done, I will be sending an escort of one hundred men, twenty of whom shall be my elite Hunters. Is this clear?"

"Of…of course my Lord Hand. Shall I inform your lady wife? She is serving as one of the Regents for young Robin Arryn?"

"No need grand maester, I've already sent a rider."

"I…I understand my Lord Hand." The old man doddered.

"And remember, the realm mustn't know, this must remain among the council."

The old, feeble man nodded secretively. "Oh yes my Lord Hand, a most wise decision indeed."

Now, onto other matters; as much as the man may be a traitor, he was still certainly quite intelligent.

"Grand maester, may I seek counsel on another matter?"

"Of course my Lord."

He noticed the change in speech pattern of the elderly wiseman immediately.

"In private matters, I need two things addressed. Firstly, how is Lord Arryn recovering?"

"Ah, the former Hand is doing well my Lord. He is recovering slowly, due to his age, but I am confident that he will be able to return to his home soon. Though, if I may share with you something in confidence?"

"Grand Maester, I am the Hand of the King, if you cannot share with me, who can you share with?"

"Ha, of course my Lord Hand. Well, it is my educated prognosis that Lord Arryn, once he returns to his seat, will most likely never leave again. He was already an old man before he succumbed to the deepsleep. He still is lively and thank the gods that his mind is still with us, but his body, I'm afraid, will never return to its original strength."

Inside, his blood was boiling. But, he had appearances to keep. "He has deserved to rest for the rest of his life. He will be remembered when your gods call him."

"Aye Lord Hand, that he will."

"As for my other issue; as you may know, early into my tenure, my daughter traveled further south to live with her betrothed in Starfall. How far is Starfall from the capital?"

"Oh, well, I cannot precisely say, but safe to say well over three hundred leagues. May I inquire as to why?"

"Well, my eldest, Sansa, is due to be married in less than a few years, perhaps a ship would be an easier mode of travel?"

"Oh yes my Lord Hand, very much so. When I first traveled here to serve under Aegon the Unlikely, I traveled overland. The entire time I was wishing I had been aboard a vessel."

"That reminds me, do you ever miss the Targaryens?"

"Certainly not!"

"Calm yourself Grand Maester, I am not setting any knight inquisitors upon you-" Not yet at least. "-but certainly under the earlier rulers, it was a good place? After all, I only remember the reign of the Mad King."

"Well…" It was clear the maester was wary of speaking of the former dynasty. After all, Eddard Stark was among the leading commanders, and one of the most successful battle commanders. "…before Aegon V attempted to foolishly bring the dragons back at Summerhall, he was a good king."

"I see…well, I see this is an uncomfortable discussion for both of us. Unless there is anything else, you are dismissed."

"Lord Hand." He bowed. "Until the next meeting.

Yes…until the next meeting. Mayhap you believe yourself safe. We're watching you.


"My Lord Hand…you called for me?"

Looking up from a stack of parchments on his desk, Eddard looked up. In his study in the Hand's tower, he had called the Spider sometime after the Grand Maester.

"Ah, Lord Varys. Please, come sit."

"Lord Hand, what can I assist you with today?"

"Tell me Lord Varys, where do you hail from?"

"My lord?"

Time to sell it. "I'm of the North, I would know a man's worth. Where do you hail from?"

"I am originally from Lys, but-"

"Lys? 'Twas the Valyrians pleasure colony, aye?"

"Yes, Lord Hand, it was also-"

"What an interesting people. Of course they were naught but sheepfuckers as my ancestors ruled as Kings in the North."

Lord Varys looked at him than adopted a fake smile. "Of course my Lord Hand. What an interesting story."

"Aye, it is. But! To the point of your presence."

"Yes, I must admit that I am rather curious."

"I called you here because I have news that you must ensure must not reach the realm."

"Ah, secrets. My favorite."

"In a moon's time, I shall order that Cersei Lannister and Joffrey and Tommen Waters are sent to Storm's End. May they face the King's justice there."

"Ah, of course. Yet I must admit Lord Stark, I would have expected the dour Lord of the North to take his King's orders to execute the two now, as was in his raven."

Damn.

But he was prepared for this. As much as he was willing to suspend his honor for this goal, his time during the Sack of King's Landing still affected him. He would not take the life of children, ever. He of course had no plans to allow Robert to execute the children…but Varys need not know that yet.

And if the advice of his wife was anything to go by, nothing better than using real emotion, to twist the truth.

"I shall not kill children Lord Varys. To this day I am upset that Robert condoned such behavior from Lord Tywin."

Varys seemed to examine him for a moment before he nodded. "Very well Lord Stark. Your secret is safe with me."

We shall see Spider…come the moon, we shall see.

"Speaking of children, have you word of the Targaryens in Essos?"

"Ah yes, the last scions of the dragon dynasty. My little birds sing in my ears Lord Hand. There are only two remaining, Viserys and Daenerys."

"What were the King's last orders for them?"

"Well to hunt them down of course. He expressly wished for them to be assassinated."

"I see…well, regardless, consider that order rescinded as of now. As long as I am serving as the Hand of the King, the Iron Throne will not, and shall never, condone the murder of children, parentless and coinless no less."

Lord Varys examined him for a moment. Suddenly his whole face changed. "You do not belong here my Lord."

"I beg your pardon?"

"This city…this keep, it's a mess of vipers, each lord and knight serving themselves. You are too honorable for it. No doubt any other man ordered that directive to be rescinded, he'd be facing the fury of the king surely."

He leaned forward.

"I marched twenty years ago Lord Varys, because of justice. I know what the southerners call us." He almost sneered. He was passionate about this. "I know the whispers and open smirks. Barbarians, savages, tree worshippers. Tell me oh great Master of Whisperers, who was it that murdered people by burning them alive? Who was it that raped and killed Princess Elia? Who was it that dashed little Aegon's head against a wall?" He stood, laying his hands on the desk, his voice raising. "Who was it that stabbed young Rhaenys a hundred times? Was it us 'savage northerners'? No!"

He slapped the desk and Lord Varys eyes widened.

"It was the southerners! Those that preach 'honor and chivalry' ha! You point me to a true knight, and I'll throw myself from the Wall. I am done. I've had it. No more. These snakes think that they can run this realm the way they see fit. This war, this is a reminder of House Stark. Whether you are the royal family or are lesser lordlings grabbing at power…justice!...justice is all we have! And by the Old Gods…I will not see this realm fall into further chaos because of greed and ambition!"

Lord Varys just coolly looked at him, and for a moment all was quiet. Yet, only a blink later, Varys stood from his chair and gave him a small smile. It was the first smile that he had seen from Varys that seemed to actually fit his face…almost genuine.

"Lord Stark…you may just survive the future yet."


It had been nearly two turns of the moon until he had his answer. The previous turn, he had personally seen the mock caravan leave the courtyard of the Red Keep. Surrounded by a hundred riders and half a dozen crossbowmen from Lord Stannis hiding in the wheelhouse.

The convoy had left the Gate of the Gods and had traveled as far west as it could to maintain appearances. Once leaving the sight of the capital, a second planted wheelhouse joined them and split into two different directions.

On the second day after one of the wheelhouses turned north, the convoy was ambushed by a number of sellswords and disgraced hedge knights. Unfortunately, his men suffered some deaths, but the enemy were all slain, the few survivors were questioned. Paid to bring the 'Rightful Queen' to the safe arms of her Lord father.

This meant only one thing, either Tywin Lannister possessed some degree of psychic power, or that Pycelle was a treasonous coward.

And Eddard knew which one he believed more.

Which is how he found himself marching through a corridor of the Red Keep with a band of his men behind him. Lord Stannis accompanied him as well. He humorlessly smirked at the thought…he and Stannis had done quite a bit of marching throughout the Keep the past few moons.

Without giving a warning, he nodded to one of his trusted men. His man-at-arms, Alyn nodded back and kicked the door to the Grand Maester's chambers down. They all marched in with them.

Before them was a disgusting sight if there ever was one. Apparently, in Pycelle's belief he was within a safe place, he thought he could entertain the pleasures of the flesh.

"Out." He coldly ordered the whore that had fallen onto the floor in fear. As the pleasure-woman quickly ran from the room, he made note that one of his men gave the woman a silver stag. I'll need to note that, repay him for that. He resisted nodding in approval. Despite his own lack of interest, he knew that the unfortunate fact was that many lowly women had to resort to such proclivities to make a living.

No reason to make her life harder…she was about to lose a customer it seemed.

"Wha-what-who-what in the gods is this?" Pycelle petulantly asked.

"Silence." The ice in his voice sucked out all air within the room. Gone were the protestations and shouts. All waited for him.

"Pycelle, you evidently do not seem to honor your sacred vows to you order, do you?"

"My Lord Hand, if only-"

He held his hand up. "I do not wish to hear any excuses, for this, you are clearly not taking the position of Grand Maester, nor any simple maester, seriously. For this, I hereby declare, as the Hand of the King, that you, Pycelle, are hereby stripped of your position as Grand Maester and stripped of your chain."

The man's face widened further. "My Lord Hand, this is-"

"Further!"

He shouted to control the room again.

"Further…you will, until otherwise deemed fit, be remanded to the Black Cells."

"My Lord Hand! I must protest, purchasing the services of a girl does not land me within those blasted cells!"

"No." At this point he had already made his way to exit, so turned to look over his shoulder. "But treason does."

Without waiting for a response, he left, vaguely listening to protests of the old man as his men were bounding and dragging him to his awaited cell.


Tywin Lannister

"My Lord, a rider requests your presence." One of his red cloaks relayed.

Without looking up from the report he was musing over within his war tent, he responded. "Send him in."

In mere moments, a man was escorted into the tent. He was of middling height, with no discernable features other than a scar that extended from his left brow, down to the middle of his chin.

He vaguely remembered the face, one of the 'captains' of the sellsword group he had hired.

"Speak."

"You sent us into a trap!"

For the first time since the man entered, he looked up and paid attention seriously.

"Excuse me?"

"You told us to rescue your girl! You conveniently left out the hundred riders and crossbows sent our way!"

This isn't good, not good at all.

"I want my gold, and I want to leave!" The man yelled. In return, two of his red cloaks rushed into the tent at the commotion.

"At ease." The two guards lowered their weapons but did not leave the inside of the tent.

Looking into the eyes of the man, he nodded. Standing, he grabbed canvas sack filled with some wax to give it some weight. "Here." He said as he gave it to the man.

The man grinned, his lost comrades forgotten. The man looked up in a frown when he opened the bag and there were no gold dragons inside.

"Hey! What the-"

Before the man could continue, Tywin took his dagger and shoved it straight into the sellsword's throat.

He turned to his men. "Put him into a dead soldier's tunic and dump him with the rest of the dead."

The two guards bowed and began to retrieve the body as he returned to his desk, the report all but forgotten.

Damn, I'll need to find another way to get Cersei and Jaime.

But before he could think of anything else, he heard a loud cheer. Standing once more, he made way to the entrance of his tent and looked out to the castle before his camp, Riverrun.

And he finally smiled like a lion with its prey 'neath its teeth.