Arya POV: Day 1
"Left," Arya blocked Syrio's attack from the left. This is better than chasing cats, Arya thought. "Right," Syrio said. Arya moved to block right but Syrio tricked her and with a swing of his sword knocked her wooden sword out of her hands. Every lesson with Syrio brought something new, something to look forward to. Like chasing cats or even practicing in the gardens to move like the wind but that was squandered by the posh Prince and her sister. This time however they spent more of the time fighting with swords, Syrio had told her that she must learn to defend herself. The Prince would hurt her again if he got the chance and she must learn to fight when that time comes.
"Now you are dead," Syrio said.
"You said right, but you went left."
"And now you are a dead girl."
"Only because you lied."
"My tongue lied, my eyes shouted the truth. You were not seeing."
"I was so, I watched but you-"
"Watching is not seeing, dead girl." Syrio approached her, "The seeing, the true seeing. That is the heart of swordplay." Arya thought to herself that she was getting better. Tommen had introduced her to the art of dueling and told her that she had great potential. She wasn't sure if he was mocking her or not but she decided that he wasn't or she at least hoped he wasn't. Syrio was letting her exploit the potential that was promised and she thought that in a few weeks, she might possibly be the one disarming him.
The doors barged open, and several Lannister men at arms along with a large Kingsguard, came through the door and moved to stand in front of her. Their steps were heavy, unlike the soft footfalls that Syrio and Tommen had taught her. A warrior should stay light on their feet… she thought. Their hands were firmly on the pommel of their swords. "Arya Stark, come with us. Your father wants to see you." She recognized the Kingsguard, Ser Meryn I think is his name.
Arya moved to join them even if she was a bit scared, Syrio held his hand in front of her and then spoke. "And why is it that Lord Eddard is sending Lannister men in place of his own? I am wondering."
"Mind your place dancing master, this is no concern of yours."
"My father wouldn't send you," She picked up her fallen wooden sword. "And I don't have to go with you if I don't want."
Ser Meryn laughed, "take her," he ordered one of the Lannister men.
"Are you men or snakes that you would threaten a child?" Syrio asked, bringing his sword to position.
A large man wearing Lannister red approached, "Get out of my way little man."
"I am Syrio Forel."
"Foreign bastard-" He was cut off by a strike to the skull from Syrio making the Lannister fall to a pillar unconscious.
"And you will be speaking to me with more respect."
"Kill the Braavosi, bring the girl," Ser Meryn ordered, stepping back.
Three Lannister men at arms approached cautiously. "Arya, child we are done with dancing for the day. Run to your father."
It happened like a blur, Syrio danced around the Lannister men making them look like fools. He wasn't using half his skill against me or the Hound, Arya realized. He looked fast enough to fight raindrops. He was better than her first teacher, the Prince, and indeed better than anyone she had ever seen. He used their own weapons and armor against them. He knocked down several Lannister men with his sword with deft strikes making them look like paper lions.
Once all the Lannister men were all unconscious Arya observed one of them missing an eye all because of a water dancer with a wooden sword.
Ser Meryn unsheathed his longsword and cautiously approached. "Bloody oafs," was all he had to say for his comrades that lay on the ground.
"Be gone now, Arya."
"Come with me, run." Arya pleaded, she silently wondered to herself how good a warrior Ser Meryn was. He was a knight from the Stormlands her father told her and was a good warrior. Not to be underestimated or trifled with.
"The first sword of Braavos does not run."
Syrio used his speed to glide around the lumbering Knight but Ser Meryn met the Braavosi's strikes blow for blow and he possessed greater strength than Syrio could ever hope to bear. After a bladelock Ser Meryn used his mailed fist to snap Syrio's sword in two.
"What do we say to the God of death?"
"Not today," Arya responded, her voice broken as she accepted the fact that her dancing master might not live.
Ser Meryn, despite having a monumental advantage, approached Syrio cautiously, having a new respect for the dancing master.
Arya ran out of the room, As fast as a cat, she thought. She grabbed a torch and began to run down the stairwells but turned to look back when she heard a sword clatter to the ground.
No… She felt a cold gloved hand grasp her shoulder as another hand grabbed the torch. She turned to look at the man who had captured her. He was as tall as Syrio which wasn't very tall. His skin was pale and his head was nearly bald besides a few white hairs. He was also wearing Lannister armor. He had emerald green eyes, there was a pensive yet soft nature to them. Arya tried to escape his grasp but it was to no avail. "Come child," he said. "We need to get you out of the Keep."
Joffrey POV: Day 3
The Stark loyalists were all dead. Eddard was in the black cells waiting for a trial. Sansa was in her chambers crying herself to sleep as she heard men scream and die. Tommen was brooding in his chambers, as usual, preferring the company of books as opposed to actual people. The Tyrells all walked with several of their household guards by their side, afraid of possible arrest or an unknown Stark loyalist assassinating a member of the House as they participated in the purge to show loyalty to their new king.
Tommen is bowed. The Tyrells are bent. The Starks are broken…
Everything was settling in perfectly. Now that war was almost destined to happen in the Riverlands. He could imagine it, he would ride into battle leaving his fat little brother in Kings Landing while he crushed Stark forces and those who were opposed to him. The way to win Margaery over… Joffrey mused. He didn't need to win her over he could take her any time he wanted, without repercussions. Tommen had triumphed over his brother in every way imaginable, it was embarrassing living in the shadow of a boy two years his junior. Tommen is the spare heir… Joffrey thought bitterly. It was not Tommen's place or right to shame his brother so. It was not right for people to call him the 'golden prince' when he was simply a spare.
At least I'll have this… this lone thing. I will win a war single-handedly while I order my brother to look after the Keep. Then he would be able to escape the shadow that had seemed to hang over him since the weasel was born.
Stannis… The thought came to him abruptly. Stannis was still sulking on Dragonstone keeping the majority of the Royal fleet with him. His leave was unauthorized, after being refused the title of Hand Stannis fled to Dragonstone like a scared little girl. The Crown needed a fleet and they did not have it. Joffrey walked to his door and opened it, Ser Barristan was already at attention while Ser Meryn had to straighten his back. "Send for Grandmaester Pycelle I require his services."
"At once your Grace," Ser Barristan replied and then brusquely walked off to do as he was bid.
Joffrey returned to his chambers where he got two pieces of parchment and a quill and put it on a table for the grandmaester. He would rather do this himself but Granmaester Pycelle had good writing and had not lost control of his dominant hand.
Joffrey leaned against his desk as he crossed his arms over his chest waiting for the old piss-smelling maester to appear. After a few minutes of waiting the door opened and the Grandmaester entered, he bowed before Joffrey and spoke, "How may I serve you, your Grace? Is your arm bothering you? I brought milk of the poppy just for it and nightshade if you are having trouble sleeping due to the pain."
"No, thank you Grandmaester. I have a different task for you in mind. Sit." He said gesturing towards the chair.
The maester did as he was bid and he noticed the parchment and quill sitting on the desk. "Write down what I say." He commanded as he uncrossed his arms and began to stroll around his room.
"I, Joffrey of houses Baratheon and Lannister order you; Stannis Baratheon to sail with your fleet back to Kings Landing. To retake your position as Master of Ships and explain your unauthorized exile. If you do not arrive within the fortnight you shall be stripped of all ranks and titles and branded an enemy of the Crown."
"That is all for that one maester now get the parchment under it." Pycelle did as he was bid and readied his quill to write as Joffrey started.
"I, Joffrey of houses Baratheon and Lannister ask you; Tywin Lannister to take up your old office as Hand of the King. I can think of no other more suited for the position, no one more loyal, or experienced. It would be a great honor for you to serve as Hand while my mother the Queen serves as Regent."
"And that is all for that one too maester, place my seal on them and take them to the Rookery. I want the ravens sent as soon as they are able."
"Yes, my King."
"You may go, grandmaester." After the Grandmaster left the seat and was heading toward the door Joffrey remembered, "And leave the essence of Nightshade along with the milk of the Poppy. I shall be needing them." The throbbing pain in his arm seemed to agree. The pain had gotten better compared to what it had been on the first night but Joffrey still felt light-headed and the pain prevented him from sleeping.
Pycelle soon left the room and Joffrey went to the windows and opened one of them. The smell of the salty sea of the blackwater breezed through the windows with the faintest smell of human shit.
He took a deep breath as he smiled at his triumph, Bowed, bent, broken…
Eddard POV: Day 4
He licked his dried and broken lips, the black cells were living up to their reputation. They were utter hell, he had received only one visitor thus far and that was the eunuch, Varys. He wasn't sure if he was thankful or displeased. The cells smelled of piss and shit and mud, he found no peace in them. King Maegor was truly cruel… It was pitch black in the cells too, not the faintest of light could be seen, he didn't know how many days it had been since that fateful day in the throne room. He supposed it had been a while. He found no rest in the cells, they were too cold and too silent. Whenever he did sleep he was terrorized by nightmares over what might have transpired to his daughters. The lone wolf dies but the pack survives… Three wolves were in Kings Landing, the rest of the pack in Winterfell. A Stark is never safe in Kings Landing…
His daughters and he were now political prisoners of the Lannisters. The war is lost… he knew. Before it even began… Robb was likely assembling a host to march on King's Landing. He hoped that Robb wouldn't meet the same ending as his father Rickard Stark when he marched South all those years ago… but with this new King, Joffrey, that was looking like a possibility. I shouldn't have been so foolish to come here… I should have listened to Cat.
Every time a Targaryen is born the gods flip a coin… Eddard wondered if Joffrey's cruelness was a product of incest or his upbringing, perhaps both. Though he supposed he should not dwell on such things, his daughters needed his help and there was nothing he could do to help them. He only hoped that cooler minds prevailed so that his daughters may return home to Winterfell.
There was a creak in the distance and a light emerged from that. A torch… Two shadows walked down the stairs in front of Eddard's cell, one plump with a hood covering their head. The other lean with no hood. The plump man with the torch stopped a good distance away. Eddard could recognize the outline of the face, it was nothing more than a boy. While the lean man continued forward and kneeled in front of Eddard's cell, he did not see the face but he recognized the voice. "Viserys Targaryen is dead…." Tommen said, "Killed by the Dothraki. He was given a golden crown fit for a King in his last moments apparently." Eddard didn't know what he meant by that and the Prince seemed uncaring to elaborate.
Eddard sighed, he didn't want to talk about news in Essos but he supposed he might be able to help Daenerys. "It was your father's last wish to spare the girl."
"… We couldn't afford the Faceless men if we wanted to. The girl is safe for now… so long as she doesn't turn her hordes west."
"That's fair…"
"Your entire household apart from your daughters have been killed, Lord Stark. I am truly sorry it came to this my lord, as a Prince of the Realm I did my best to protect the young and vulnerable, especially the ones who have attracted the ire of my brother."
A relieved and saddened laugh escaped Eddard, Arya is safe…
"I understand my Prince, Is Sansa safe?"
Tommen sighed, "She has been placed in her chambers for the past few days my lord. She is… well. Joffrey wouldn't hurt the one he is to marry." He sounds like he is trying to convince himself… Eddard mused.
"What's to be my fate? Do you know?" Eddard asked.
The Prince's voice was tired and unsure, "I'm not sure my Lord, a council meeting shall be held tomorrow. I'll voice my opinion to send you to the wall once this war has ended. Proclaim Joffrey as the one true King and your life shall be spared." Eddard nearly laughed, Joffrey was not the one true King and he didn't deserve the throne even if he was.
"Stannis is the one true King by rights, not you, not your brother. It's Stannis." Eddard's tone took on a more angry one, "Do you have no honor? So much like your father- your real father. You pretend to have honor and you hide behind it like a veil masking the monster underneath. Your just like any other Lannister a lion waiting to strike."
"Forget about your bloody honor and listen to what I'm telling you. If you do not confess your life and your daughter's life is lost." Eddard could hear the Prince rise from his kneeling position. "I can influence my brother Lord Stark. Proclaim him King and your life shall be spared."
He scoffed, "Honor is nothing more than a relic in the South."
Tommen ignored Eddard's slights against him, "Take the black, my Lord. Save yours and your daughter's life. It's the best option, the rest are filled with endless misery and death." After that, the Prince left him there to make his decision.
Tommen POV: Day 5
Tommen scribbled his signature down on a bill. Corlan had asked for a large loan to pay for Chatayas brothel, yet Baelish met their offer at every turn forcing him to increase the amount several times over what it had been at first. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes as guilt and frustration built up in him. The Council had decided for Lord Eddard to take the black after the war between the Lannisters and the Starks had ended. In two days he would announce his crimes before the people of Kings Landing and ask for mercy. Tommen knew what was to happen regardless of whether he proclaimed his guilt or not. He sipped on some Dornish. It brought brief memories of looking at Myrcella's body, murdered by Dornish whores, the sandsnakes… they killed their princes Doran and Trystane and murdered his sweet sister Myrcella. The purest person he had ever known, more pure than the boy I used to be…
"How has my sweet Tom changed so?" He looked up in shock as he observed Margaery. Not the Margaery that he was so desperately wanting to undress in these days. No… The Margaery that looked at him now with those sweet blue eyes of hers died all those years ago at the Sept. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and looked again, she was running her hand over her growing womb.
After a moment's silence, Tommen decided to indulge in his overactive imagination, "The boy you knew is dead… he is a man now."
Margaery smiled at him, a sweet smile as she used her hand to cup his cheek. "A man yes, but a boy in so many ways that you refuse to see. You're going to let Eddard die aren't you?"
"Yes," Tommen muttered, "He was a fool to not bend the knee to Joffrey and he shall pay for it with his and his family's lives."
Margaery took on a sad look as she got to her knees beside the young lion, "The Tommen I knew wouldn't sacrifice a man and his family for his own benefit, he couldn't even think of it. He wouldn't allow war to start in the Seven Kingdoms for his own selfish desires… This isn't you Tommen…"
"Was it ever real Margaery?" Tommen asked, looking at his wife. "Did you ever love me? Or did I end my life for something that was never real?"
Margaery looked down from Tommen's eyes as she ran her hand over Tommen's, "I didn't love you at first," She admitted. "But after you filled me with your child I recognized you for who you were. I know I would prefer no other to you, no other to father our child. I did love you Tommen…"
Tommen laughed a melancholic laugh, "And then you died… So soon after you started loving me. What was it? A month you were with our child and heir." We were married for two years… and you only loved me for a month… he thought bitterly. Tears started brimming in his eyes, as he closed them and shook his head. When he opened his eyes his wife was still there, still gently stroking his hand with hers. He swallowed a rather painful lump in his throat before he spoke. "I suppose it doesn't matter… you're not real, just a figment of my overworked mind." Why does this feel so real?
Margaery smiled sadly, "You've changed so much… hurt does that to people. Just promise me to not lose yourself, Tom, don't forget the sweet boy you used to be…"
"The boy I used to be got you killed… the boy I used to be got your brother killed, he killed his grandfather, his granduncle, his sister. The boy I used to be let sycophants run the Kingdoms while he sulked in his room. That boy was too… naive, I suppose. Not fit to be King. Not fit to have a wife as beautiful and as pure as you."
Margaery laughed a little, "That boy was only a boy with the weight of Seven Kingdoms on his shoulders. You cannot blame yourself for what happened. Besides, I'm the one who didn't deserve you… you were too good for me. You haven't any idea how I dreamed of plunging a dagger into your mother's heart, or watching her burn at the stake and I had many chances to. But I didn't, because I knew how alone you were and how much you needed your mother."
"And it cost you your life…"
Margaery nodded, "Yes it did. You've accomplished so much in your new life," Margaery looked around his room, "The golden prince, the one who maidens wish to wed, wishing they shared your bed at night. The prince that people wish were the heir…"
Tommen smiled at her, "I belong to you alone, Margaery, and always will."
Margaery returned the smile and changed the subject back to what it originally was, "It isn't right to let Lord Stark die Tom… You know this as well as I." Her tone took on a more serious and pleading one, "I beg you Tom, don't lose yourself. Don't let Stark die, don't forget who you were, who you are. You're strong now Tommen, strong enough to know what needs to be done. I beg of you to stop his death the only way you know how."
"The only way I know how…" Tommen muttered to himself, when he looked to where his wife was she was there no longer. Her message and request being delivered to him. The Golden Prince… he thought to himself. Kingslayer, Kinslayer, Corrupted One…
He left his chambers soon after, deciding what must be done. She was only a figment of his overactive and tired mind but Tommen knew she was right regardless. He walked to the other side of the castle to the spider's chambers, a dagger firmly in his grasp. While his other hand clutched a torch. He was nearly out of breath when he reached the spider's chambers and rapped on his door. He heard something clatter in the room and soft footfalls approached the door as it was opened. The smile Varys carried at first vanished as Tommen brought the dagger to Varys' large gut. "There are passageways in the Red Keep, you know of many of them, including those leading to the Royal apartments. Correct?"
"Ye-yes my prince. My birds have discovered many of them."
"Show me to my brother's chambers. Now."
"Yes, my prince. Let us go."
Both Varys and Tommen quickly withdrew into the eunuchs room as Varys moved a bookshelf to reveal a tunnel, stone was moved to the side. Varys didn't care enough to cover it up as he was the only one to know of the passageways was himself. Tommen knew of one of them in his past life but he was too scared to explore it. Afraid that Joffrey would trap him there to where he would never be able to escape.
He had uncovered a few in his new life but they seemed to be mostly dead ends except for one which led out of the castle so Tommen gave up on searching for more. Tommen passed his torch to the eunuch as they began their journey. Varys seemed to know the passages from the back of his hand, navigating through the tight corridors filled with cobwebs. They took several turns and walked up several steps until they stopped in front of what appeared nothing until Vary's carefully removed a false wall with as much grace as he walked.
Tommen gestured for Varys to stay behind as he was afraid of both betrayal and of Joffrey smelling the eunuch's strong perfume. He managed to step carefully by the moonlit windows, as he walked into Joffrey's bedchambers he found his brother sleeping. Tommen readied his dagger and was about to slit his kin's throat when his eye caught something on the wall. It was a crossbow. Tommen recognized this crossbow, it had been Joffreys for a while. It was not the crossbow that terrorized Sansa Stark, it was not the crossbow that killed any animal that met Joffrey's sight. It was not the crossbow that killed Tywin Lannister. No… that crossbow had yet to have been produced. Though he was sure that this crossbow had killed its fair share of innocents.
He picked the crossbow off the wall, the way it was placed Tommen had to deftly navigate the device through different objects and animal skins. He slowly pulled the lever back as it pulled the string with it making more noise than he would've liked but he was confident no one would have been able to hear. Picking up one bolt that had been placed on a wooden table he loaded the crossbow. He then silently approached Joffrey's bedside with the crossbow in hand and aimed at Joffrey's neck, he took a baited breath and then pulled the trigger.
Joffrey's eyes shot open as he instinctively brought his good hand to his now open throat, blood slipped through his fingers as he realized what had happened. Joffrey's eyes shot to Tommen and his expression of shock turned to one of anger. He let out small whimpers as he died. Blood began to stream down the corners of his mouth and onto his bedsheets. Watching Joffrey die now was so much like watching Joffrey die at the purple wedding, he remembered watching Joffrey desperately claw at his throat. As the poison that Olenna Tyrell slipped into his goblet did its work.
He felt nothing as he watched his brother die. He had imagined it many times in his head, him killing Joffrey in a duel. Killing him with poison. Stabbing him in the back. This was not one of the fates Tommen imagined for his brother. He thought maybe he should feel guilt? This monster will not make me feel bad for his death. Sadness? I will not shed tears for him. Pride? Tommen felt no pride as he watched his brother continue to choke on his own blood. He felt nothing as he watched his brother die, not pride, not relief, not guilt. He felt nothing, an empty void in his soul. Tell me what it's like to burn… Tommen knew that if even one of the Seven Hells existed he would belong to them just as his brother did. The world of Westeros had finally corrupted him, just like how it had corrupted so many before him.
I had not planned on killing Joffrey so soon… Margaery was right, it would be selfish to keep him alive so long. Though he supposed he had good reason for it, my mother became mad after my brother died… there was no telling who would attract her ire now that her favored son was dead.
Now I am a Kingslayer… Tommen thought to himself, like father like son. Kinslayer… Joffrey's whimpers died out as his body relaxed. Tommen left him there placing the crossbow back where it belonged, and paced back to the passageway.
Varys had a solemn and anticipated look in his eye. The eunuch passed the torch to Tommen as he put the false wall back up. After he was done, Tommen pressed his dagger to the eunuch's throat, "Give me a reason not to kill you, Varys. We've both committed treason. Give me a reason not to kill you. A good reason, and perhaps I won't kill you."
Varys took shuddering breaths as he spoke, "I have served you as well as I can. I can serve you for many a year and serve you well. I helped you with finding your way into Renly's chambers and now I have helped you kill your brother. Because you are a leader the people deserve, a King the people need."
Tommen in reality had made up his mind long ago on the spider's fate, and he felt a pang of guilt as he dragged the dagger across the Eunuch's throat.
It's done, Tommen thought, This is how it is, and this is how it's got to be…