Arya rolled her eyes as the septa practically dragged her to her room to change her clothes. As if ladies couldn´t wear breeches as well as men. She was about to give the septa a choice of her chosen profession when she remembered why she was behaving. She frowned, entering the room and allowing for the woman to throw a dress into her bed. Arya allowed herself then to be bathed, changed and arranged, all the while thinking about what her role would be in this new reality. Maybe she could even… eliminate some threads before they became blocks on their road. Her servant had just finished with her hair when someone entered the room.

"Leave us alone, please" Sansa declared in the authoritative tone a queen would use. The servant bowed and left. "You look nothing like yourself."

"Thank you" it was one of the most beautiful things her sister had said to her when not complimenting her professional skills. "I was thinking about ditching this stupid thing… who wants to be in a room full of lords and stupid ladies anyway? Or sew and gossip with them during tea?"

"More my thing than yours, I´m afraid" the redhead answered and just for one second, the both of them exchanged a smile. Until Arya remembered exactly what her sister had made her do. A scowl replaced her happy expression. "I´m not going to do what you expect me to do, Sansa. Not anymore."

"Would you leave your sister to the mercy of the Lannisters or to the likes of Ramsay and Roose Bolton?" the former Queen in the North sat down next to her sister. "I know what I can convince you to do, Arya, and what you are implying… a long time ago I noticed that it won´t work again. I will have to… consider other solutions."

"Does it mean that you are not going to kinslay or merely that I´m not going to be the assassin wielding the knife?"

"I´m only saying that I´m considering solutions that might or might not include a knife on someone´s back." The redheaded Stark daughter smirked. "And father might have something to do with that." She extended a hand. "Shall we?"

Arya got up by herself, but accompanied her sister into the Main Hall. It was filled to the brim with Northern Lords, all of them called by their father. Lord Stark and his Lady were there already, Robb by their side, greeting those that arrived. The girl stared at the Greatjon Umber, who was laughing as he saluted his Liege, presenting his young daughters to the heir of Winterfell. They were at least a head taller than her brother, so she thought it would be awkward when the time came to dance with them. Behind the Umbers, Wynafrid and Wylla Manderly waited for their turn with their grandfather. And behind them…

"See?" Sansa whispered to her, knowing exactly what to say to make her sister want to do her will. "There is still plenty of things for what your… unique talents are required."

She left Arya by herself to go dance with one of the many lords reunited there. It didn´t mean anything, her father had promised her that she wouldn´t be betrothed until she felt ready, the same he had promised to Arya herself… but that was beside the point there. Roose Bolton, Barbrey Dustin and Rodrik Ryswell were there. The traitors that conspired to kill her brother and steal her home. Umbers and Karstarks too… they will receive their due in time. The Freys too. All she had to do was approach them and…

"My Lady, would you like to dance?" a man said, approaching her. A Ryswell man.

Arya wanted to groan, but she had a role to fulfill. And a good assassin sometimes needed to do their job while fulfilling a role, one that put suspicions away from them. Yes, she had a role to fulfill and she would fulfill it. Unfortunately, that role was one she still detested, no matter how much time it had passed since she had to play it. Unknown to her, she was not the only member of the family that was having a bad time.

"From all the stupid ideas Lord Stark could have before having to host the Usurper and his court, my uncle decides to hold a meeting in Winterfell" Jon complained as Larence helped him with his hair. "Ridiculous."

His knight nodded as he braided a complicated set around an adornment that was originally supposed to be worn in another part of the body. He tried to convince his Prince that it was a bad idea, but he insisted. So Larence did as he was told and helped his Lord to get ready for the meeting. He had learned how to braid hair in the Valyrian style during his many years in Volantis, including around many ornaments. The Bastard of Hornwood took a step back when he finished, admiring his Prince´s look. The hair was fine, but the clothes he was wearing were all black, like a Brother of the Night´s Watch´s, and old. Of a fine quality, but obviously inferior to those worn by the Starks. Even so, he managed to look every inch a Prince. If only he could have the same as they did in Volantis…

"You don´t have to go if you don´t want" Larence said, knowing that the last thing the Prince wanted to spend time with the enemy. "You yourself said it, this ball is to find the young Lord Robb a bride…"

"That doesn´t mean I can simply be absent."

"My Prince…"

"Better dead than to show weakness in front of a pack of wolves, Larence, remember that" he snatched his fan from his nightstand, a simple and worn thing with a broken mirror. "Let´s go so this nightmare could be over."

The two of them walked down to the Main Hall, the Hornwood bastard a few steps behind his master as they used to do in formal occasions in the court of Volantis. It was something strange, considering that they were not Prince and knight anymore, but Larence would first fall into his own sword than letting something happen to Jon. As they approached, the sounds of lords feasting and getting drunk reached their ears. It was not the first time they entered like that kind of environment, not even in the North… now that he remembered, he used to be used to that kind of feasts… once upon a time… long ago… when he was young and still thought like one of them, before he had the chance to see world. Now he was a different person altogether. His eyes then fell into a group of men wearing a three sentinel trees on a field of brown.

"My P…"

"No, Larence" Jon answered, frowning even deeper. But he was right, they can´t back out. To show weakness, specially in their situation, could and would be a great mistake. Larence also knew that, he wouldn´t have survived as one of his knight and then a lord if he didn´t. Even so… "Stay as close to me as you can."

"Of course, my…"

"And don´t call me that" he whispered. "Here, I´m Jon Snow, a fellow bastard."

"Yes, my… Jon"

"Good" the former Prince gripped his fan even harder. He was counting the minutes until that nightmare finished. "Let´s go to the…"

"Jon!" Robb approached quickly, leaving his dancing partner, one of the Umber girls, in the middle of their dance. She put an offended face. "Where were you? I was expecting you to come down with our sisters. What, did you entertain yourself so much styling your hair?"

"I had to leave you some time alone with the ladies. Had I been there all the time, none would have given you attention" Jon retorted in a way that seemed friendly banter to Robb, but anyone who spent their time in a court would detect the insult in his words right away. "Anyway, Larence and I were just heading for…"

"Oh, nothing like that. If I have to suffer with the ladies, then so do you" the Stark said, not letting his brother slip from his gasp. This one opened his eyes wide, but didn´t resist. Not even a Larence sent him a concerned look. "I was just dancing with Jana, with whom I will have to dance another song so she might consider forgiving me. She was also telling me about her sister, Jayna…"

"Robb, there is no need, I…"

"You once told me that you didn´t want to have a family, that you wanted to join the Watch. But, the more I hear you these days, the more I realize that it wasn´t true, that you were only doing that to protect me and reassure my mother, that you wanted a family…"

"Robb, really, whatever you have heard…"

"You deserve that, Jon. You deserve that and more. A wife, a family, a holdfast on your own… I will give you that this time" he promised. Jon, behind him, frowned. "That being said, let´s begin with the wife. I´m sure you will find Jayna Umber lovely."

Jon wanted to say that he would prefer Wun Wun over an Umber or any other northerner any day, but bit his tongue. Instead, he allowed himself to be conduced to the girl and danced with her. And with Wynafrid Manderly, Alys Karstark and Dacey Mormont. He barely dodged dancing with Eddara Tallhart by saying he was going to get a drink from the table. He sat down near Larence, sipping the wine that was served in the squire´s table, inferior in quality to the one served to the lords and muttered some threats to the Heir to Winterfell in Valyrian. An Heir who apparently had made it his mission to find him a northern wife. By how he kept pushing him towards the Mormont or Manderly heiresses, it seemed that he wanted to get him a wife that could give him her last name too. A last name and lands.

"I see that you managed to evade your cousin for the now."

"And you yours" Jon retorted, seeing how Larence was putting as much distance as he could between himself and the Tallhart men. And their lords. "I think I offended your cousin" he commented when he saw the lord´s daughter glaring in their way. "when I got out of dancing with her."

"I don't recognize those people as my cousins" the Hornwood bastard answered, drinking the watered down wine and missing the fine, spicy vintage from Volantis even more.

"Likewise" his Prince answered, missing that and something more. "Don´t see the time to leave… but there are still some things I have to do before that."

"Does it include the Usur…"

"Larence" Jon stopped him before he could say something more. "You should remember that there are some places where you have to be careful with your words. This is one of them" even if no one would pay attention to the conversation between two bastards. "We will have to wait until we are home."

"Yes, of course" the boy cursed inwardly. He knew that well, he had lived the life of a lord for nearly as long as Jon had been a Prince, he was very aware of that. But these last few months… then something occurred to him, making him lower his voice even more. "And… how are you going to explain this night to the Queen? Because she isn´t going to like you being courted by anyone who isn´t her."

The former Regent shuddered when he heard that. His wife was… a fiery woman with a temperament. Ardent and… a bit jealous too. Not overly, as she understood that sometimes he needed to dance or talk with a lady or the other, but some ladies putting their hands on her husband, trying to openly court him… that was another history. Them being northerners would only fan the flames of her anger. Were she to know about their dances and that Robb Stark had tried to pair him with those ladies, then the North would be the first target of her anger. Not even rivers of blood would remain to flow when the ashes settled down after the Wrath of a Dragon descended over them.

"Let´s not do something we regret la…"

"Jon!" Robb appeared in that moment, letting go of the hand of Alys Karstark. "Come here, you have rested enough! And Lady Tallhart is waiting!"

"Seems like I didn´t evade your cousin after all"

Arya was also watching the scene with worry. She knew her… goodsister… had a temper and could be dangerous in the most flammable meaning of the word. She surely won´t find it funny if Robb´s attempts to match Jon with one of the eligible ladies in the North succeeded. Neither would Jon, who loved his wife more than he loved that family. And, given the opportunity, Jon can have as much a temper as her. A very flammable temper. Which was why, when Robb retired for a bit from the Main Hall, she followed.

"Robb… Robb, wait!" she called for him as he was rushing away.

"What?" he asked, halting to face his sister.

"We need to talk" the girl said, approaching her brother to lower the volume of her voice. "Is it my imagination or are you trying to get Jon a wife?"

"Is not your imagination, sister" the Stark heir answered, very full of himself. "I´m looking for a wife for our brother" Arya´s expression became one of consternation. "I thought that, now that father and mother want to get me a wife in case the worse happened again and the Freys want to take advantage of my unmarried status, it´s time for other Stark heirs to also get married. The one closest to my age is Jon and we surely will benefit of…"

"Are you insane?"

"What´s wrong with you? I expected such a reaction from mother, not from…"

"And what gave you the idea that Jon would go along with your ridiculous plan?"

"It´s not ridiculous!" Robb frowned at his sister. "The other day Theon and I heard Sansa and Jon talking about family and other things and Jon mentioned wanting a wife and children…"

"Did he mentioned WANTING a wife or that he already HAD one?" now that she was saying it like that… Arya groaned. "Robb, Jon already has a wife. At least in the old life…"

"Our brother probably chose a wonderful woman, but so did I, and it ended up not being the best of choices…"

"Jon is not you, Robb, he didn´t committed the same mistakes as you" the girl´s answer actually made him mute. "What you just did probably only offended him, because he loved his wife a lot. And not only because of that, but because in the old life he lost her in a terrible way" she put her hands on her hips. "Yes, Robb, old Jon was a widower. And he not only lost his wife, but his baby daughter at the same time. He had to take care of his three remaining children alone for years."

"Wha… what happened?" he asked, concerned.

"That… that´s not the point" the assassin said, not wanting to dwell in details. "The only thing that does is that perhaps you should leave these things alone. Follow Father´s plan, allow Jon to become a Man of the Watch and avoid…"

"And if he doesn´t want that? Are you going to force him to take the Black, sister?" Robb asked. He didn´t recognize his siblings anymore… what had happened in his absence? What had they done? "Maybe my plan is better. Maybe that way he doesn´t have to suffer through it anymore."

Robb left, Arya stayed alone in that corridor. She looked at her hands for a long time, feeling them unclean, dirty and… warm with blood. With THAT blood. Robb was mistaken, there could not be any children of Jon´s blood because… because then she or some other… Sansa and Bran won´t let anyone spoil their plan, their ruthless selves won´t allow it. If she wasn´t the one holding the knife this time…

Outside, the lords were enjoying themselves. Lord Eddard Stark called for silence in that moment and announced the betrothal of his heir, Robb Stark, with Lady Alys Karstark. The lords clapped and congratulated the couple. Ned and Catelyn exchanged a look. With this, they hoped that the Red Wedding was avoided. If not, then they would have to look for another way. They saw Robb dancing with Alys, smiling satisfied. They made a good couple. The smiles died a bit when their son practically forced his bastard brother to dance with Jayna Umber again. Catelyn was sour about that, as she didn´t want the bastard to get any marriage, specially not one that can help him usurp her son in the future. Eddard was only worried. What could happen if Jon were to marry and sire children? He didn´t want to go to the Wall anymore, ruining his plans. Should he force him? Does he have the heart to do so? He didn´t know anymore.

-In King´s Landing-

There were some times in his life Jamie wished things could be different. This was one of them. Unfortunately, the two Lannister brothers agreed that this needs to happen for them to cast down at least one of their problems. It was a pity, but Jon Arryn needed to be poisoned for them to have a chance to get rid of Baelish and Lysa Arryn or, in the worst case, Pycelle. Jamie would prefer to get Baelish, as getting rid of Pycelle would put both him and Tyrion at odds with their father… but if it was needed, then they would have to put the Grandmaester on Robert´s warpath. As he walked behind Robert, the Kingslayer wondered exactly when everything was going to explode.

"Excuse me, my King" Ser Hugh of the Vale appeared in front of Robert and his small retinue. "The Lord Hand is asking for your presence. He is really ill and…"

"What?! Jon is ill and no one told me!"

Jamie bit his tongue before he could say something about Robert not being informed because he was too busy in a brothel and followed his kingly goodbrother towards the maester´s chambers. He wasn´t surprised to see Tyrion already there, bothering the Grandmaester and the ailing Hand with questions. The King barged into the room, screaming at the Imp to leave the ill man and maester alone, which Tyrion did. There was no reasoning with Robert Baratheon when he was like that. A few hours later, even after several tries from his brother to bring poison to the King´s attention, Jon Arryn was dead. The man´s foster son raged for hours, turning his rage towards Tyrion as he was reminded by Pycelle of his intervention.

"It´s only that it was strange to me" the dwarf said when asked by a raging Stag why he interfered with the maester. "Pycelle was giving him the treatment for a common stomach ailment, but it in fact reminded me of something I read once…"

"What?!" asked Robert, impatient and itching to kill something.

"Something I read about the reign of Aegon III, when someone tried to kill his wife and ended up killing their food taster" the littlest Lannister continued despite the anger his mention of the Targaryens woke in Robert. "Their had the same symptoms as the Hand, but the maester managed to save the Queen with a strong purging potion…"

"Wait, someone tried to kill his wife?" Renly, who was also present, finally managed to catch the bait. Good for him, he wasn´t as stupid as Tyrion remembered. "Are you suggesting that the Hand was… poisoned?"

"I´m saying Queen Daenaera Velaryon suffered the same symptoms when she was poisoned with a rare and really expensive poison called the Tears of Lys" the small lion answered. "In fact, before Pycelle kicked him out, I think the maester in Lord Arryn´s service was giving the Hand the same treatment as…"

"CALL THAT MAESTER HERE RIGHT THIS INSTANT! I WANT TO HEAR IT FROM HIM!"

If Robert was raging then, he was purple of rage when he heard the maester in service of the Arryns explain how he had suspected it was poison and how he would have saved the Lord Hand if the Grandmaester hadn´t taken over Lord Arryn´s care and ordered him away. Pycelle tried to explain himself, lying about not recognizing the poison and not being proof about it being a poisoning incident, but, unfortunately for him, Renly Baratheon decided for once in his life to be efficient. He had ordered a maester in his employ to revise the symptoms and this one agreed that it was a case of poisoning with the Tears of Lys. The King, in his anger, completely forgot about the Lannisters in favor of Pycelle, who was accused of being the poisoner. The maester, trembling, denied it before being sent to the Black Cells.

"Your Grace, as much as I wish I could conclude this issue here, I don´t believe the Grand maester is the culprit" Varys intervened before Tyrion could even open his mouth. "Just think about it, what could he gain of the Hand´s death?"

"Maybe he had a secret he didn´t want exposed" Renly offered after a short chat with a recently arrived Loras Tyrell. "I sent some of my men to Pycelle´s quarters when he came into suspicions and they just returned. With factures of brothels and letters the Grand maester hid from the King. They were all addressed to the King."

"If they were found out, he would have lost his head or been sent to the Wall for treason, your Grace" the Knight of Flowers finished, proud of himself. "More than enough reason to kill a man."

"Yes, but that doesn´t explain how he slipped Lord Arryn the poison." Tyrion countered. "He didn´t send any tonic or medicine to the Tower of the Hand lately, no?" the Spider nodded, supporting Tyrion. "And the Tears of Lys is not a slow acting poison. He needed to at least have an accomplise in the Hand´s employment…"

"THEN WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?! RENLY! FIND THE FUCKING RAT THAT POISONED JON AND BRING IT TO ME! NOW!"

The Lannister brothers inwardly smirked. The pieces were all in place. Thanks to some arrangements and a few coins, they had managed to put a dent on Lysa Arryn´s fleeing plan. Enough for her to still be in the Tower of the Hand when Renly began the investigation. The maddened woman barricaded herself inside her room, screaming something about not taking her Sweetrobin. Robert, convinced that she was the poisoner, grabbed his Warhammer and threw the door down, yelling at her that she killed her husband. Lady Arryn then tried to throw herself and her child from the window, but thanks to Ser Barristan´s heroic actions, the young Lord was saved.

"That bitch… she was madder than the Mad King himself" muttered Robert when they were finally back in the Throne Room. What remained of the Small Council was there around him. And Baelish looked too confident… he must have covered his tracks really well. "Renly, what do your men say happened?"

"We found a small bottle in Lady Arryn´s possession, filled with the Tears of Lys. According to Hugh, Lord Arryn´s squire, it was delivered by him straight to her a few weeks ago. He didn´t know what it contained" the Master of Laws said. "Apparently, Lady Arryn decided to poison her husband and bought the Tears, we don´t know from whom. She must have been aware of Lord Arryn´s investigation on Pycelle, so she paid him to make sure her husband died. We found a pouch of gold in another hiding place in the maester´s quarters which seems to conform the history."

A pouch of gold that a certain Mockingbird must have planted, even Jaime could tell. But he wasn´t going to ruin everything with a baseless accusation. Baelish will survive… for some time. The important thing was that he and Tyrion had gotten rid of Tywin Lannister´s creature and Littlefinger´s most important piece. The Grand maester had accepted to take the Black in exchange for his life, so the issue was closed. As for Baelish... Jamie had to refrain himself from smirking in triumph as control of the Vale slipping through the Master of Coin´s fingers as Robin Arryn was shipped off to Runestone as ward of Lord Yohn Royce (Stannis had already fled the city). Unfortunately, not everything was good news, as there was only one person Robert trusted in to run his Kingdom now that Jon Arryn was no more.

"I thought you had that in hand…"

"I thought my arguments were going to convince him"

"Certainly they did not!" Jamie made his best effort to recover control over his voice when he addressed the issue with Tyrion. "Looks like we are going to Winterfell anyway."

"Expected" Tyrion answered, crossing his arms. He wanted to avoid this if possible, as he wasn´t ready to face his old King, the Queen in the North or, the Seven have mercy, the Prince Regent, but if it was unavoidable, then he was going to make it better. Beginning with avoiding Brandon´s fall. "Prepare yourself, it´s going to be a tiring trip.

The Kingsguard nodded and went off to write a raven to Brienne. She needed to know how this was developing, in case they couldn´t avoid the course of events. So she could prepare… and convince Gendry of making them Valyrian steel. According to the Maid of Tarth, the Smith´s Chosen could be as bullheaded as his father when he wanted. He was going to honor the name Baratheon once his uncles finished killing each other off. Anyway, Winterfell… they were going to go to Winterfell. It certainly was going to be interesting this time around… no?

-In Wintertown-

"My Prince, what…?"

"Patience, Larence, I´m sure he is almost here" someone suddenly sat down in their table. Someone very well known for them. "A pleasure to see you again, Lord Admiral."

"Ser Velaryon" the bastard of Hornwood saluted. The bastard of Driftmark bowed to him.

"Ser Saeragyon, a pleasure to see you again" Aurane Waters grabbed his drink. "Now… what are your orders, my Prince? Are you going to meet the Queen soon?"

Jon smirked. His cousins could have learned to play the game sooner than him, but by the time he had to sit the newly created throne of the new Valyrian Empire because of Dany´s absence, he had learned. And became a master on his own right. His Flame of Meleys was a true diamond in the brute he had polished into a true gem as his personal knight and then commander, while his Flame of Shrykos the best admiral ever. And they were fiercely loyal to him and Daenerys. And how could they not be, they had been handpicked really well.

In the end, he had one thing to thank Tyrion Lannister for. How did he say? Cripples, Bastards, and Broken Things… nothing better than that.

Hello! Here is the next chapter. Hope that you enjoyed it! Review!