Ned

"I Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Hand of the King hearbye sentence you to die."

The grey banners of House Stark fluttered in the wind carried by his guardsman as the Crowned Stag flew proudly on the red battlements. Three men kneeled before him. Guilty of attempting to bribe the Commanders of the Dragon Gate and Iron Gate. Eddard Karstark and Ser Wendel Manderly had informed him at once and he issued warrants for their arrest. Death or the Wall his judgement. Five other men had agreed to be sent to the Wall resided in the Black Cells this day. They all spoke of men with crimson cloaks whom gave them coin and whom to give it towards. But no names, and the words of watchmen, stableman, merchants would mean little to Robert, anyway.

Jory handed him Ice, the sword of House Stark, and he swung. Three heads rolled in little time.

Ned hoped this would finally send a message. All the Lannister gold in the world won't save you from a sword. And he had the most in the city. The first few days in the city, he had overseen the replacement of Watchmen and the installation of his men into position. But the Lannister Queen did not seem easily deterred, and he doubted it would sway her to his growing dismay. How much more will I have to do to get you to yield?

"See that they give the bodies to the Silent Sisters for burial."

Jory bowed.

Tomard and Alyn flanked him in the hallways as one of Roberts squires, a boy with the golden hair, appeared with several red cloaks behind him. "Lord Stark," He said with the haughtiness of youth. "His Grace has summoned you to the Iron Throne to answer to charges brought against you by Queen Cersei of the House Lannister."

Ned nodded. "If that is Roberts command." What whispers is she feeding you, Robert? I'm your Hand overseeing your realm.

Robert adjusted himself upon the Iron Throne as he entered. Court was not in session, but five white cloaks remained with them. An annoyed look lived on Roberts face. Beside him, the Lannister Queen was as cold as ice, wearing a dress of crimson red. Ned offered a light nod of his head. "Your Grace," He said dutifully. "I'm yours to command."

"Ah, Ned." Robert said. "My wife tells me you are executing men in your own name without my leave."

"I'm your Hand Robert. I speak with your voice and you've informed me you don't wish to be involved with the small things of ruling."

"You overstep your authority, Lord Stark!" the queen said, her green eyes burning. "Men will mock you husband in their cups that Stark wears the Crown and not you."

"It's justice Robert. Every man is guilty of his crimes. I swear it by my honor." Ned said. "And everyone has blamed men with crimson cloaks. Tis the only reason Her Grace has levied these charges against me."

"Now he slanders House Lannister! Will you stand for such my king?"

Robert was vexed and let out a loud groan. "Gods, I should be drinking, not dealing with the two of you." He laughed and turned his attention to him. "Alright Ned, have you slain any man with noble blood?"

"No, your grace." He answered honestly.

"If you bring any men with noble blood, you shall summon me before deciding their faith. This isn't Winterfell Ned!" If only it were.

Ned nodded and swore he would do that. The Queen eyes became as tight as arrow slits. "Is this your idea of kingship? The man mocks you with every breath and accused me your queen of crimes."

Robert laughed. "It's Ned. Simple honorable Ned. The thought of dishonor would never cross his cold Stark heart." He sighed and grumbled, "I'm not happy with either of you. This damn quarrel ends with the both of you. YOU UNDERSTAND ME! I SHALL NOT HAVE MY QUEEN AND HAND QUARRELING!"

"I serve you Robert, I swear."

"That remains to be seen." Queen Cersei remarked.

Robert glowered. "Yes, my king." She agreed with a thin smile.

With that, Robert walked down the steps of his throne and threw his meaty arms around him. "And you Ned! You damn fool, you shall join me for drinks in my solar punishment for making me walk all this way." He looked red faced and out of breath. Kingship had not treated his old friend well.

"Robert-"

"I command you Ned! You'll drink with me!"

Ned nodded and followed his king, that he scarcely recognized. Over a couple of drinks and Robert was smiling and laughing, talking of the days in the Vale. Ned couldn't keep a smile from his face. Ah, Robert, you still live. This man was his friend whom he marched to war with. A good man that cared deeply for his friends and family. That was the man he saw on the Trident when he carried out justice against Prince Joffrey, his own flesh and blood. He didn't speak of matters of state. Robert would just ignore him about counting coppers. How Jon Arryn allowed Robert to spend all of that gold was beyond him? Oh, Jon, you had to tell him no.

Instead, he allowed the debt to grow with House Lannister. The Lions claws were still deep into the Crown and it would take him years to lean them off the Lannister gold.

"It was fucking terrible what happened to Jon. Gods, I loved the man, but I think he was a fool, Ned. This marriage is terrible as hell. I know that woman is lying, but she comes with a lot of gold and one needs gold to run the seven kingdoms."

"We need to cut spending, Robert. Allow me to make some modest cuts."

"And give up my feasts, tourneys? Jon Arryn argued the same, but I didn't listen to him. Why would I for you?"

"When you wish, tourneys inform me and I shall come up with a more sustainable course. I know this isn't the North Robert. I'm still overseeing plans for the Tourney of the Hand, but we need to get this spending under control. The Lannisters hold too much power over the Realm." Did it matter that he had seized the majority of court? This debt was crippling a sword hanging over them all. Lord Tywin had Robert with his claws and he needed Robert to see it and the dangers it represented.

Robert laughed. "That's funny, I believe I see more gray cloaks than red around my keep."

"Swords are not the only form of sway." Ned sighed, rubbing his temples. "I've spoken with your brother Renly. He informs me that Lord Tyrell will offer a generous loan. I'd suggest you accept it and use it to repay some of the Lannister Debt. Your realm will be better for it."

"That fat fool?" Robert scoffed. "You know, he claims he's the only man to beat me in the field. It was Tarly, not that fat flower, but I suppose it makes little difference where you get the funds. Produce the coins to fund my wishes, you know the saying about the Hand and King." Robert was grinning like a boy.

"The king shits, and the hand wipes." Ned said after a sigh as Robert laughed and laughed.

Later that evening, after supping with his family and household with some northman joining them, Ned retired to his quarters surrounded by walls and walls of parchment. Damn it Robert, why must you be so negligent. The Tyrell loan would be a saving grace for the Crowns finances and would allow him to sleep more soundly at night. For a moment, he shoved the quill away and thought of Winterfell and Cats arms. How he missed her and his children that remained scattered in Winterfell and the Eyrie. Leaving Bran was one of the hardest things he had ever done. Honor and duty called me south with Robert. Ned sighed. At least his household was at peace. The conflict between his daughters had ended. Jon had played a hand in that. The boy was taking well to the court despite the stain associated with being a bastard. Ser Barristan had told him he would make a fine knight one day.

Not a king. Of all the people in the capital Ser Barristan worried him the most. He spent the most time with Prince Rhaegar of any man in the city and his oaths sworn him to Robert. Would he betray Rhaegar's son to him if he discovered the truth? Honor would demand it. Yet everyone said he loved Rhaegar. But the Old Gods favored him and Ser Barristan simply saw him as his son. Not Rhaegars. The memory of Rhaenys and Aegon made him shiver. Promise me, Ned, promise me. Lyanna had begged. Jon would be fine in this city and if need be, the option of a sword would remain to him. It did him little good thinking of unlikely roads that would be traveled. He picked up the quill and started his battle. The battle was still being raged when Jory appeared, saying Lord Baelish wished to see him.

"Send him in Jory."

Lord Baelish was an amicable man with a quick wit that he liked little. His eyes were always scheming. Both his wife and nephew had told him to trust him and his talents. Jasper Arryn pledged to him he would serve him well, per his wish as his bannerman. Yet, he merely wanted to skewer him and his insolent eyes. The way he speaks of Cat…

"Busy at work, I see Stark. The king has left you with much, it seems."

"Speak your words Lord Baelish." He said far too brusquely as he rubbed his temples. "Forgive me, for my tone."

"You should watch it. I've come here with a warning Stark. One you would do well to listen too." He sighed. "Why I bother is beyond me. Keeping my promise to sweet Cat is such a tedious thing."

The game of words and quips, Ned liked little. "Then say the warning." He said with a frown.

"Very well Stark," Lord Baelish said. "I've been told through my contacts in the Westerlands Ser Kevan Lannister is riding with some two hundred knights among them the Mountain that Rides for the Tourney of the Hand. Lord Tywin has not been pleased with events in the capital. What he means to do, I fear I can only speculate, but Ser Kevan is Lord Tywins right-hand man. He speaks for Lord Lannister. Mayhaps they shall demand some of the debt the Crown owes for the slights to House Lannister? Something I shall remind you we won't be able to do. We would have to default."

Ned chuckled. "Well, then it seems we already settled such a problem. I shall be able to pay a down payment if asked."

"Oh?" Lord Baelish asked with a curious glint. "How is that I wonder?"

Ned told him about the offer Lord Renly had brought to him from Lord Tyrell. "Ah," He said. "Then you seem to have matters well in hand, Lord Hand. I shall take my leave from you then."

Would Lord Tywin truly take such a drastic step? One day his grandson Prince Tommen would sit the Iron Throne. Lannister pride, He thought, but he was certain he could keep the peace. If it came to war, the Lannisters would stand alone while Robert could summon the entire realm against them.

He fell asleep heavy at work. The smell of perfume greeted him when his eyes fluttered open. He squinted. "Varys?" He said, aghast. He could scarcely recognize him in his garb. How had he got passed his guardsman? Was Robert's Master of Whispers truly capable of sorcery as men whispered?

"Pardon me my lord for disturbing you at this late hour, but I fear the Realm is heading to catastrophe and you are the only servant of the Realm left." Varys smiled sadly. "Yes, the only friend left to Robert I think."

These plots gave him a headache. The Lannister Queen. Littlefinger. Varys. All playing some murmurs' farce. "What do you mean Varys?" He saw no apparent danger hurdling towards them. "If there is a threat, we must warn His Grace."

The Spider giggled. "Oh, he wouldn't listen to me. But you, my lord, he would. His boyhood friend. Yes, I think he would listen to you."

"Speak the threat then and I shall tell Robert." Ned said.

"The Tyrells and the Lannisters will arrive in full force in the capital for the Tourney of the Hand. Lord Mace Tyrell has just left Highgarden with his lovely daughter, Lady Margaery. I wonder why. Mayhaps, the faith of Prince Joffrey has encouraged them to take a more aggressive stance in Roberts Court, aided by Lord Renly. You are the reason as well, I think. Stacking the court with your men has declawed the Lions, and that means they can rise high on the Lannisters corpse. A fine move, I may add. Securing the court with your men it'll help you in the days to come." Varys giggled. "The Lannisters will dislike what the Tyrells do. I fear blood may flow if you don't act. Prince Tommens future would be in jeopardy."

Ned was aghast. "Why would the Lannisters care about Lady Margaery? She'll be wed to Lord Renly, the Lord of Storms End. And how does Prince Tommens faith play into this?" And that made perfect sense to him. Renly had spent much time in Highgarden with the Tyrells, and he had yet to wed. The Rose and the Stag would be a good thing for Roberts Realm. What concern could the Lannisters possibly have to that?

"You must think my lord with Prince Joffrey removed. King Robert now only has one son, and the world is often so cruel, and you've seen that the King and Queen bear little love for the other."

"Robert would never." Ned said, realizing what Varys implied. "Setting aside his Queen for no crime? It would be madness." Would he? Once Ned would have been certain, but this King Robert was almost a stranger to him. If he saw a pretty maiden from Highgarden and was offered riches and gold to fund his feasts and tourneys, would he do so? Some doubt gnawed at him.

"And if you accept this loan, I assure you the Lannisters will assume that is exactly what is planned. Blood will flow in the streets and the realm as well." Varys said. "You must deny the offer and speak with courtesy to Ser Kevan when he arrives. Convince him that no threat resides to Lord Tywins grandchildren. That Cersei shall remain Queen of the Realm."

"You ask me to serve the Lannisters the butchers of children."

"I ask you to serve the Realm, my lord." Varys said.

Is that why Lord Renly offered the generous loan? Ned wondered. Is he part of the plot? He couldn't believe that Renly wouldn't undermine his own niece and nephew purely to put House Tyrell by Roberts side. The Lannisters held a sword over Roberts realm, and according to Varys, if he removes it'll lead to bloodshed. Dead children. Could he risk that? Sansa had spoken kindly of Princess Myrcella, and Brans recent letter spoke highly of Prince Tommen as a good friend. Or was this another lie? Did Baelish speak the truth, and no threat existed save that of Lannister ambition? These were the hard choices of a Hand of the King.

Brandon would have known what to do.

"I shall think on this Varys." He promised.

Ned thought about it all night and made a choice.

Jasper

"Who would pass the Bloody Gate?"

The High Road had narrowed to support only rows of four horsemen and droplets of rain pelted against the company as heavy as stone. It soaked to the bone even with the heavy cloak protecting him. Over the two battlements the sky-blue falcon soaring against a white moon, on a sky-blue field stood proudly amid the storm. Behind him some one-hundred guardsman and knights, along with his squires. Brandon Stark was riding a small shaggy beast. Maester Roland had said it would be fine for him to ride short stretches. Maybe I should have overruled him? His cousin looked weary and tired. Thankfully, they would find some respite here.

"I, Lord Jasper Arryn, Lord of the Eyrie and Warden of the East, have returned home to the noble Vale with two new wards. Crown Prince Tommen of House Baratheon and Lord Brandon of House Stark. "

The Knight of the Bloody gate undid his helm. "And we are glad to have you, Lord Arryn." Ser Mychel Redfort said. "Your men shall find food and shelter from the storm here."

Behind him, his grand uncle snorted.

Every man in the party was wet and tired and eager for a warm fire to heat them and crunchy bread to eat. "And for that ser, we are thankful. I shall break bread with you and Mya."

Ser Mychel smiled like a man hopelessly in love. "That we shall Lord Arryn."

Stableboys saw to their mounts and Jasper followed Ser Mychel up to the main battlement, where the Knight of the Bloody Gate slept and ate. Grand Uncle Brynden was behind him. Two deep blue eyes widened when Ser Mychel opened the door of ironwood. She had dark raven hair and wore a red dress where once it was leather and breaches. The boy Jasper had named her a friend, but he was the Lord of the Eyrie and he did not embrace her. A single lordly nod of acknowledgment.

"Look who tumbled their way up the trail." Ser Mychel japed.

Mya smiled. "Lord Arryn, and Ser Brynden, I trust the road treated you well."

"Like an ugly old wife. Constant nagging and complaining and the irksome squires quarreling the entire High Road made it the Seven Hells." Grand Uncle Brynden said.

"In good humors I see." Mya said.

Jasper shook his head. "My grand uncle exaggerates. It was a fine trip, but we are glad to be in the Vale."

Bread and a warm porridge was served and while famished Jasper only ate in controlled bites. Ser Brynden and Ser Mychel were discussing the Mountain Clans and the trouble they still poised. Jasper listened along.

"They are becoming bolder. I think we may have to ride against them in the coming moons."

"Poor tidings then." His grand uncle snorted. "We'll have to do it right. A half ass job and it'll only encourage further raids."

Jasper nodded along. "And that we shall. I will defend the Vale and my people." He vowed. "With the Blackfish and the Knight of the Bloody Gate by my side! We shall drive those savages back into the hills."

Ser Mychel's chest rose with pride at his words.

Mya was strangely silent just watching him with a curious look that had him bothered. Still, he smiled, complimented Ser Mychel on his swordsmanship and pledging a quick spar before they left, praised Mya for her beauty and wit. His grand uncle gave a nod of approval at his behavior and he kept a fake outgoing smile on his face the entire supper. Listening intently to Mychels concerns about the clansman and the security of the Bloody Gate. By the end, he could feel the irritation grow and his need for a respite. He retired for the evening, shaking Mychel's hand and giving Mya a chaste kiss on the cheek as if she were little more than another lady of the vale.

Jasper retired for the evening after sending his grand uncle to check on his squires and make sure they all still lived. They are going to give me gray hairs. I was never that bad.

And he allowed sleep to claim him

The howling wind screamed around him. His mothers pudgy neck was turning purple and Jasper's eyes burned. "You tried to kill us! We are your sons!" He said, intent on choking the life out of her. "Why are you like this? You should love us!"

"FLY! FLY! MAKE HER FLY!" Robert said.

"Son." she said through clenched teeth.

She mumbled incoherently, trying to pry his fingers away from her throat. But he would have his justice. Justice of an Arryn and the Lord of the Eyrie.

Jasper dragged her to the edge of moondoor the wind kissed them both. She struggled like a floppy trout, but he held her down and tilted her head to look down to the oblivion that stared back. Tears streaming down her cheeks. "ARE YOU SCARED?! NOW IMAGINE HOW ROBERT FELT!"

"I-"

"NO!" Jasper said. "You don't get to speak. You'll listen to me and suffer my judgement. Pray to the Gods Mother for they shall show more mercy than I."

Jasper awoke from the dream covered in sweat. He dressed quickly for a midnight walk to calm down. The midnight walk turned into a rigorous exercise to sweat out the terror. He pressed down and pushed himself up, using his chest until he felt on the verge of collapse. I need to keep myself in peak form. The nightmares got worse the closer they got to the Eyrie. A few guardsmen wandered the wall carrying torches, but Jasper didn't need one to see. The crescent moon was above them the sigil of his house. When he was a boy, the moon comforted him and even now it soothed his heart, but he thought of the weeks ahead. Lord Yohn Royce, he would have to keep close. It would do him well to keep him in good counsel. Nestor Royce still held his position as High Steward, but he would strip him of his post as Keeper of the Gates of the Moon. That title he would bestow upon his grand uncle. A loyal man and well respected by the Valeman. Albeit, it would be ceremonial. He had no intention of ascending up to that white marbled cage save his wedding day. But on days when he left to visit his vassals, he wanted Ser Brynden to be watching his wards and not Nestor Royce.

I'm taking something from him. I'll offer him a soothing gift. The title Paramount Knight of the Vale for years of honorable and dutiful service should suffice. Most of the men in his household were his fathers men, and he had been slow to replace them. I want men I pick around me dependent upon me, but I have to honor dutiful service.

Jasper rolled onto his back, sweat streaming across his brow. Thank you, grand uncle. Some men in his household had already departed for King Roberts Court to take up positions, freeing him to replace them with individuals connected to him. It was a strategy his grandfather Lord Hoster had employed to help tie together the quarrelsome Riverlands. The Master of Arms Ser Edmund Redfort, a distant cousin of Lord Horton. The Captain of the Guard Marywn Belmore. Belmores, Redforts, and Royces, the principal three, he rewarded.

The welcoming feast for Prince Tommen and Lord Brandon would be a grand affair. The entire Vale needs to see it. Jasper thought. Only problem was all the talking he would have to do with every lord and lady and how taxing it was being outgoing and gallant. But he would plan out his day and would have to structure some breaks in between the dancing and speaking.

"Not sleeping well, my lord? Mind if I join you?" Mya asked, appearing next to him.

His stomach twisted into knots, and he fought the urge to groan. Put on the show and offered his flashiest smile. "And I'm grateful for that, otherwise I would not have your company this night." He rose from his sweaty position on the ground and kissed the back of her hand, as the show required. He wished it fooled her. But she was as stubborn as the mules she once oversaw. For a moment, she didn't speak, and he almost believed she would give up.

"You put on a great show at supper, as you are now. Very courteous to Mychel." She chuckled. "Though that's easy. Praise his swordsmanship and he'll like you, but you smiled far too much. You're unhappy."

Jasper laughed. "Show?" He raised his brow as if puzzled. "I'm no actor fair lady. My smile is as real as the esteem I hold for you. Ser Mychel is a lucky man."

"They are false smiles." Mya said bluntly. "I've seen your actual smile as a boy when you fed the mules carrots. You're much like Ser Brynden. Your smile is a smaller thing."

He did a flippant wave of his hand. "If that is what you wish to believe, my lady." And tried to shift the conversation to her marriage with Ser Mychel. But she held a stubborn glint in her eye like a mule and he expected she wouldn't let this go. "Do I have to give Ser Mychel a stern talking to my lady?" His voice turned into his lord's voice. "And remind him how a man should treat his wife? Why else would you be out this night?" Eyes narrowing lightly as he watched her like with everyone with a sense of dread.

"Tis unneeded Jasper." Mya smiled. "Mychel is a sweet husband." She was by his side, shoulders brushing. "I'm out this night for the moon. It's a beautiful one."

I find that hard to believe. You wish to meddle. Jasper thought. In the corner of his eyes, he saw Mya under the moonlight and saw what Mychal appreciated in her. A pretty, but loyal woman as stubborn and unmovable as the rocky cliffs of the Giants Lance. Those were the qualities the boy Jasper valued. Without her loyalty, I would have been a pampered weakling. The Vale owes her a great debt.

I owed a great debt and repaid it with a plot to see her happy, but she thinks it Mychel my part she remains unaware.

Jasper preferred it that way. I couldn't be seen as favoring a bastard and he couldn't afford to be the soft boy.

"A better night than when you smuggled me out of the basket." The winds were fierce that night with rain heavier than the past few days, but he wasn't afraid. Maybe he should have been.

Mya's voice was with great cheer. "It was a straightforward thing hiding you with the turnips."

Jasper gave a genuine smile. "Made for a good snack." He said before giving up trying to be Lord Arryn this night and turned. "It's good to see you Mya, I'm very happy seeing the life you've made here." And it was no mindless courtesy from himself. He meant every word. "You and I have come a long way from those days." He smirked. "Look at you, you're a Redfort! It's what you've always wanted."

"And yourself, my lord. Do you have what you want?" The words cut at him. No, but I'm incapable of ever achieving it.

He snapped his fingers. "Forgive me. I forgot to give you your gift. Damn myself!" He thumped his forehead. "It's always the small things, but worry not, I shall rectify my err. It's in my quarters." Jasper was pleased to take the conversation to a location that afforded him greater control and security. I wish to give her the gift though. I hope she'll love it.

"And pray tell, what is it?" Mya asked.

"It's a surprise."

"I dislike surprises my lord."

"Unfortunately for you, I love them and I'm the Lord of the Eyrie, so I win." He winked and enjoyed the small victory over her as she bristled. Not such a pleasant feeling. Is it having someone under your skin? He offered his hand as he did in the courtroom with an exaggerated flair. "Lady Mya Redfort shall you accompany me?"

A single unladylike snort and her hand entangled with his own, she leaned into his ear. "You know you'll make the men gossip terribly." She whispered.

He scoffed. "My conduct is beyond reproach. I would not do that with a married woman, but if you worry over your honor, I could send for Ser Mychel."

"It bothers me not. I'm used to such speculation." Mya said. "I was just teasing my lord."

They attracted a few stares from the sentries, but Jasper didn't pay them much mind as he led Mya to his quarters. It was scant compared to most of his accommodations, but it was serviceable. A warm feather bed, and a desk of oak with a few chairs and a single table of chestnut. Everything he needed. He had hoped Mya would stay at the doorway while he rummaged through the desk looking for the gift, but she was bold and sat on top of his desk, legs crossed. "My surprise is on this desk?" She huffed a loose strand of hair.

"Yes," He grumbled. "Give me one moment. I have a lot of parchment to sort through. I was going to give it to you on the morrow."

"I thought you forgot to give it to me at the dining table." And he felt like a boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. A nervous laugh left his throat as he stretched his collar.

"I must have misspoken. My apologies, tis a crime to fib with a lady, especially a friend." And dipped his head apologetically. Jasper thanked the Gods for Ser Orryns Book on Proper Manners and Virtues of a Knight. I would be beyond hopeless without the book. He had committed it to memory, and it was the wisest thing he had ever done. I would babble like an idiot otherwise.

Mya didn't look too convinced, though.

Her hand was rather curious and stumbled upon the letter that had him hot and flustered.

"A letter from the princess?" She grinned. "Are you truly courting her?

Jasper snatched it out of her hands." It's a political match, nothing more." He said with ice, trying to silence that amused expression with a harsh look. Princess Myrcella was sweet, but it was just politics. He would not try again like a damn fool. I can't do it, I'm too bad at it.

Mya laughed, clutching at her sides. "As you say, my lord."

"It's for the good of the Realm. For the Vale." He believed those words, but Mya didn't look convinced, which had him scowling as he finally found it.

"Ah, one letter from King Robert to Mya Redfort congratulating you on your wedding." Jasper offered the letter to her with a smile. Her features turned serious, and she glared as if it were poison. The moment dragged on and he raised his brow. "If you don't-" She snatched it out of his hand, but made no move to open it. Studying the wax seal of House Baratheon, and sighed. "Maybe one day I'll open this, but I've little desire to see his words today."

Jasper stood awkwardly. "My apologies." He mumbled. "I shouldn't have asked." King Robert had penned the letter with only a little prodding. Apparently, he wished to bring her to court once, but said it would not be a good place for her. His Grace swore him to silence and he would keep his oath.

"It's fine my lord." Mya said. "It was thoughtful of you to ask."

Still, he felt he had to make amends. His grand uncle told him the best way was over a drink. His book said otherwise, but he figured the Blackfish was a better source of information. "Mya," He said. "Before I send you on your way, let me offer you a drink." He poured them two goblets of whatever wine they provided him with.

"And what shall we toast too?"

Jasper chuckled. "To a good night sleep!"

"To your betrothed Princess Myrcella!"

"To good King Robert!"

With that, the goblets clanged together, and Jasper drank the sweet contents down his throat. It warmed him and he smiled. She let out a small giggle as he asked about Mychel and how marriage was treating her. Small-talk he normally hated, but it brought him some happiness seeing her content living life like a song. I did this. I secured this for her. If nothing else, I did that one thing right.

"Oh, Jasper, promise me you'll try to find love with your betrothed as I found with my husband."

Jasper shook his head. "I will not make a false promise, my lady. It's a political match, and that's all it shall be, but I shall treat her well as befit her rank and status." Dreams and songs floated in his mind and he wanted it more than anything, but it just wasn't in the cards for him.

Mya snorted, annoyed. "When you fell off of your horse, you got back up. This is the same thing. You must try. Winterfell may not have gone as you wished-"

Jasper reddened, deeply embarrassed. "Don't speak of Winterfell." He twisted away.

"My lord." She said with some force.

"I won't speak of it." He said and sulked like a boy being chided by his older sister. "It was stupid. I was as stupid as the dumb boy with pet rocks trying to find a brother in Cousin Harry." And she knew the boy and not the knight or the lord he had become. Mya Stone knew the soft boy with his head in the clouds. I killed him, I killed him, damn it. I restored my honor.

"My lord-" She tried to reason, but he would hear of no further words from her.

"Thank you Mya for the company, but it's best you retire." He said with his lord's voice. Leave me alone you meddlesome woman.

"Then I name you a craven and a coward." Mya said bluntly.

Jasper gawked. "I'm no craven!" He snapped with steel at the challenge of his honor. "How dare you call me that! I've killed men, I've won tourneys, I've brought down great beasts. By what right do you name me such?" His body shook with fury. "Answer me." It was wrong to speak to a woman with such a tone, but she got his blood hot and fiery with her prodding.

"Oh, Jasper, you are lonely. You're still the same lonely boy I've always known."

And his anger left him as he chuckled, failing to drown out the bitterness. "Falcons soar alone. Falcons soar alone." He repeated. "I'm the Lord of the Eyrie. I'm the knight, and that's all I shall ever be. And by the Seven." Jasper vowed. "I shall fake it until the day I die. It's all I'm good for." He spent too much time in his golden cage, floating high above the world to do anything else.

"Your only hurting yourself."

It was the only life he knew, and he was terrible at trying to be something he wasn't. Jasper sighed. "It's fine Mya." He grabbed her shoulders."I'm fine, as long as you and my fellow Valeman are happy, I shall find contentment in that and I want you to be happy. You were a good friend." He rubbed his pant legs, uncomfortable by such declarations. "I think we were friends. I'm uncertain." His voice turned awkward.

Mya's gaze softened. "Yes, we are." She answered. "And you need to try again. You can't fake it your entire life. Tis not the way men are supposed to live."

But he was an Arryn and he offered his fake public smile. "Of course I can. I'm fantastic at it!" His voice turned slightly haughty. "Arryns soar above normal men." And before she could say a word of protest, he entangled his arm with her own. "Now, you silly woman, let me get you back to your gallant husband. No doubt he misses your company. Some knights have all the luck."

And when he returned, he shut the door behind him and slouched against the stone. He brooded on the floor, staring at the letter on his desk and what is represented. Love. Happiness. A chance to discover those things and to be Jasper again. Should he try again? Jasper simply stared, with no answer. No, I have an answer, but I like it little.

Wolves had packs. Lions had prides. Roses grew together. But Falcons soared alone. Anytime he got close to anyone, they were sent away. A sharp lesson to remind him. Mother would suffer no competition while she was away, and she was never in the Eyrie. Stories and songs his only true companions in his floating cage high above everyone. Cold roaring winds that howled. My prison. How I hate the Eyrie. He learned to be distant as they wished, but he still wanted families like the songs. When he wrote begging his father to send him playmates or to foster him in Runestone or Winterfell. His father Jon Arryn, the most honorable lord in the Seven Kingdoms, wrote to him. Falcons soar alone Jasper. Your place shall remain alone in the Eyrie, as is my command.

For a time Jasper accepted it, thinking he was doing great honor to his name. Then Cousin Harry told him the truth. What they thought of him. Weak. Coddled. Pathetic. Then he saw the white marble walls for the bars they were. Father was setting him up for failure because he looked like a Tully. He hated me; I embarrassed him. Harry was the Heir he wanted. Blond-haired and blue eyes, not auburn hair with light blue eyes. My father, the honorable Jon Arryn, judged me unworthy. Did he see something dark and evil in my conduct? He was probably right. Everyone in that castle was sworn to his mother or father and would never let him out to prove himself. To prove himself an Arryn worthy of his name. If it wasn't for Mya agreeing to deliver a letter to his grand uncle at the Bloody Gate pleading for him to return to the Eyrie, he would have failed badly.

He wanted me to fail. Strip me of my birthright. And honor says I must keep my silence.

He held his tongue.

Brynden Tully took him as a squire and taught him everything he knew. And he threw himself at his studies until every muscle ached and sleep took him, but he could never connect well with anyone. People were strange with so many rules and he did not know how they worked, save what he noted from observation or his book on how a knight was supposed to behave. He needed to be a perfect Lord Arryn and prove them all wrong. To make his father proud of him, but Jon Arryn died and died thinking him a failure. Or maybe he earned enough respect to keep being his heir? When they brought a raven of his death, he thought it would bring word he had been disinherited. That never happened. He could still make the Arryn name something to be proud of as beautiful as any song.

As High as Honor!

Jasper went to bed, and knew he would soar.

Authors Note: Next up will either be furthering the Eyrie/Kingslanding Story lines or an interlude chapter and a quick view at every power center, Casterly Rock, Riverrun, Highgarden, Sunspear and see the plots forming. As always I love seeing reviews.

Guest: Nice list!

Freedmoon: Yep, thats pretty much what I was going for with Ned/Jasper. I always thought the only pssoble reaosn Ned didn't bring anyone down with him was he thought he was just going to investigate Jon Arryns death find those responsible and then return North cause it's really dumb. When you become Hand you get to make changes at court thats just part of the position. You got the power systems down perfectly. Now the Stannis part is intrested, he knows about the incest, but he wouldn't come to the capital in canon and I'm convinced because he's very bitter about Roberts slights to him. He denied him Storms End and he went North to name Ned Hand. So even with the changes at court I don't see him coming by boat to the capital. Now, if Ned went to Dragonstone to see what was up. He would be like. "Incest Ned! Lot of incest!" And Ned would be like "AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME! WHATS WRONG WITH YOU!" As it stands if Stannis declares Tommen and Myrcella bastards born of incest Jasper would think it like the whispers that he didn't look Arryn enough. He would think it a lie and treason! Now, if he was investigating with Ned Jon Arryns murder and they came across the evidence he could be made to believe. I think a guy like Renly could marry Shireen to say Tommen to keep Baratheon blood on the throne, but this is hard as Iron Stanniss. Funnily enough, that was offered to him in cannon after the Blackwater, and he had Florent burned for it. Now if Robert commanded him, he would be like. "Not your kids." And Robert wouldn't believe him and would be fuming and Staniss would be grinding his teeth. I think this chapter has more political implications.

Blackhawk43: I'm glad you like it that much! You saw a hint of the Mountain Clans, as to their role. I'd imagine they'll play some role it's the Vale afterall.

Atp: Nope, they won't have peace. The Game of Thrones goes on