The Captive Lady

The boorish man burped loudly and chugged down the contents of his goblet filled to the brim with Sweet Arbor wine. "Ah!" He said slamming it to the table. "As sweet as always. Tis a fine meal, my lady. Wouldn't you agree?"

She ignored him and ate another small, controlled bite. It was bitter seeing the man in her seat at the head of the table. Her banners had been ripped from the walls and replaced with the crimson red of House Lannister.

"You are upset." He said after a long moment, deep in thought.

"I've made my opinion clear, ser." Arwyn replied.

Ser Lyle groaned. "My lady, I've kept my promise." And in a twisted way, the so called StrongBoar had done so. "I've not harmed a single hair on any of your brood. Even the young wildcat of a grandson you have." He laughed. "Fierce little bastard killed one of my men! He should have been born in the West!"

"That's one interpretation, I suppose."

He groaned. "I apologize, my lady, if you assume trickery! But I had orders from the Old Lion himself. Put everyone to the sword not of high birth. We can't have anyone betraying the garrison I leave behind."

She raised a slender brow. "And if you received orders to put us to the sword, would you forsake your promises to me?"

Ser Lyle spat out the wine and reddened. "Lord Tywin would never ask of such a wicked thing!" He coughed. "Even lions have manners, my dear."

It was her fault for surrendering the keep, but her grandson Leo and her eldest son were on a hunt when they came upon them like ghosts in the night. She had received no word from Highgarden to suspect an attack, nor any warning from the border crossings until the banners were at her gates. She didn't have the stores for an extended siege and when they played the Rains of Castamere with her eldest boy and grandson at knife point; she lowered the gates, hands trembling. Forgive me… They slaughtered her household down to the man drenching the courtyard with a river of blood. Only Maester Gwaine and Septon Cassius were spared.

"I find I wish to pray at the sept ser." Arwyn said.

"I shall join you then!" Ser Lyle declared. Even sitting, he towered over her, standing. She thought her father a big man, but compared to Ser Lyle, he was thin and sickly. He looks like the Warrior himself. He offered his hand, and she had little choice but to take it. It was comical how large he was compared to herself. They walked in silence to the sept, but he ended it with a whisper, as she could smell the incense of the candles. "It was well you surrendered, my lady. You made the right choice. You were spared the fate of Goldengrove"

Nothing bothered her anymore. She was old and lived only for her children and grandchildren. "And what has happened, Ser Lyle?"

There was little mirth in his face. "Lord Mathis defied Lord Tywin's command to surrender his castle, and my liege was forced to storm it. He could not leave it threatening his rear. A bloody thing, but Lord Tywin took it." At some cost, it seemed. She mused. Lord Mathis was a stubborn man and capable in the art of war. He would defend his keep well and would extract a cost from the Old Lion. She had sent her youngest Arys to be fostered with the man. A decent man with an amiable smile on his face with his friends, but loyal and brave. A good man. At least her youngest boy was safe in the Eyrie guarding the Crown Prince. It was a small blessing. "Mathis is a captive as well, then?" He would hate that stubborn old goat. He took his oaths to Highgarden seriously and would have wanted to join the host Lord Tyrell had to be assembling by now.

"Nay. Lord Tywin had him beheaded for his defiance."

"YOU MEN OF THE WEST ARE BUTCHERS!" Arwyn pulled away from him. "WHAT HAS BEEN DONE TO HIS DAUGHTERS?"

Ser Lyle had the grace to look ashamed. "A noble foe, should not die on his knees. It was ill done." He puffed up his chest. "If I were there, I would have challenged him to a duel of combat and submitted him that way!" His voice boomed, waking even the Gods. "His daughters have been sent to Casterly Rock, where they shall remain for the rest of the war." Who knows what had been done to them? Her own granddaughter had nearly been raped by one of her captors. To Ser Lyles credit, he gelded the man himself in the courtyard. His screams were pleasing to the ears, as sweet as any song. Lord Rowans youngest girl, Bethany Rowan, was betrothed to her grandson Leo. She would be the Lady of Old Oak one day. If either of them survived this war. The Lannisters were without mercy.

"In the sight of the Seven, I want you to know my words, to be honest." Ser Lyle said.

A knot grew in her stomach as she realized the brutish knight had an ulterior motive for escorting her to the sept. No lady would break an oath sworn in such a sacred place. "Tonight you shall be sent with the rest of your family back to the Rock."

"You swore we could remain here." Bitterness overwhelmed her. "More lies ser?"

"I fear it's safer for you and your kin to be sent away."

"This is our home." Arwyn said. "Profaned with blood of our household, it may be. It is still our home and you would rip us from it."

Ser Lyle nodded. "It's a hard thing to be ripped from your home, but you shall be treated according to your station and birth." He said. "I pity you and your kin suffering for your wicked lieges, debasing themselves with womanly poison." The only wicked men she knew followed the crimson red and golden lion. Arwyn hoped Lord Mace and his sons would leave the grounds littered with Lannister dead, but she held her tongue. Ser Lyle would not appreciate such honesty.

"I shall see my boys cooperate ser." She promised.

It was all she could do.

Ser Lyle prayed for the Warrior. "May my sword be true in battle. My heart filled with courage and valor. Give me strength to move even mountains, we pray."

She went to her knees after he finished and prayed to the Mother. "Gentle Mother, font of mercy, save our sons from war. We pray, stay the swords and stay the arrows. Let them know a better day."

Arwyn hoped the Gods were listening.

Jasper

The Small Council chambers had been converted into a war room meeting for all the martial lords left in Kings Landing. Men who had fought war while he still was sucking on his nurse maids tit. Most of them were Northern warriors , like Mors Umber or Arnolf Karstark. Rough men like the land they hailed from. Skilled warriors no doubt and men of courage, but save for Stark leadership he wasn't too impressed with their ability to plan campaigns. Jasper thought as they spoke loud and fiercely only quieting when Lord Stark spoke. They do respect my uncle though. But he remained polite as courtesy demanded. Lord Yohn Royce sat with a grave solemn look as he hunched over, tracing his finger over troop positions of the Tyrell and Lannister hosts. The Seven favored him by having one of his strongest supporters in the room with him. The bitterness towards his uncle had not faded, but he understood in these days of war they had to show a united front. And no man could deny that Lord Stark was every inch a man bred for campaigns. Two wars under his belt. He was more qualified than almost any man in the Seven Kingdoms to lead the Crowns response. He sat in the place of the King at the end of the long table. The pin of the Hand stuck to his chest. The symbol of his office.

Other men sat with them. There was Ser Moonton, Ser Vadris Egen, Ser Wendel Manderly, Ser Ronald Vance, and Ser Donnel Waynwood. The only man not of the sword who sat with them was the eunuch Lord Varys and his soft powdery hands that filled him with disgust. He had never fought a day in his life. Still, they needed eyes on the ground, and the spymaster knew his craft well.

"The Storm Lords are gathering at Storms End answering Lord Renlys call. A host of thirty thousand strong. They seek to defend the honor of the newly made Lady of Storms End." Lord Varys said softly. "My little birds tell me it was quite the wedding."

Hors Umber cackled with laughter. "Should we be concerned? What battles has this prancing stag won?"

"He could threaten the capital with his host." Ser Moonton whitened.

Jasper scoffed. "Little chance of that. He would be a fool to risk offending us any further."

"And he would seek to join up with the Tyrell host at any rate." Lord Yohn lifted his head from the map. "Overwhelm the Lannisters with pure numbers and drive them back to her lands." He pointed at the castles of Old Oak and Red Lake. Lion Pieces held them on the board. Word from the front of their sudden fall. Tales of brutality have spread as well. It was not pleasant to think about them. "From this position, Lord Tywin can either move on Highgarden and hope for a decisive, victorious clash or he shall likely split up host and meet the Stormlord before they can join up."

Lord Stark nodded. "Lord Renly has ignored our commands and courts his own damnation." He said solemnly. It had been his suggestion to send a royal command forbidding him from marching up the Kingsroad. Lord Stark assumed he was trying to prevent conflict from escalating, but he merely wanted to give Lord Renly pause. Every day he wasted, more men of the Reach and Westerlands would perish. More of her lands would burn, depleting her strength. It would make them easier to sweep away and would help damn Lord Renly in the postwar settlement. I have stained him ever further a rebel and turncoat. The Lord of Storms End position would be weaker for it.

The marriage of Tyrell and Baratheon troubled him. If they swept the Martells in her camp, it would be the entire South united against them. A dangerous bloc that could challenge them. One hundred and fifty thousand men could be fielded between the three of them. All the more reason to reincorporate a weakened House Lannister back into the Crowns good graces. We need them to beat down any potential challenge. But he found the alliance between Tyrells, Baratheons, and Martells unlikely. The enmity between the Reach and Marcher lords of the Stormlands would make it almost impossible to maintain in the long term.

"I intend to meet him, my lords, with what men I can raise from the Crownlands." Lord Stark said. "I shall get him to heel and see Roberts brother ends this folly."

Everyone raised their voices in protest of his wishes. "You can't be serious, Lord Stark!" Hors Umber roared. "The men we have here can't be trusted to beat off thirty thousand southerners. Even a bunch of summer boys pissing grass!"

Ser Wendel guffawed. "My lord, you would march to death! What would we tell your lady wife?"

"I'm aware of our inferior position to meet him in battle." Lord Stark replied. "But I'm convinced I can sway him to cease this madness." He voiced with a growing sadness. "I know many of the lords that march with him. They are good men that served Robert well. They'll listen to me and dip her banners."

"And if not." Jasper said. "They may seize you! You are the Lord Regent of the Iron Throne. You are too important!"

"I know my worth, nephew." He said with the quiet nobility of a man of honor that made him forget his bitterness towards the man. "But our king has entrusted me to keep the peace of his realm and, with his refusal to return, it falls upon me to speak with his voice. This course of action is filled with risk, but also great reward. It would shorten the conflict." And that's why it was unacceptable. I need the Stormlands to bleed as well and Lord Renly to be attainted. Not returned to the Kings Peace. Jasper thought. Lord Renly was a snake in the grass and he needed him removed from the garden to ensure his ward's safety.

Jasper stood from his seat. "I respect your optimism and nobility, but this is far too risky." Men looked at him like he was a green boy. Especially the Northman. I'm still one until my first battle. "Let him march and join the conflict while we summon our full strength. Our hand would be better, and if I learned anything from playing cards with Ser Brynden." He voiced with a dry soldier's wit, knowing his audience. "You always use your best hand or you lose your pot. Our best hand is to gather our strength and restore the Kings Peace!" He finished with conviction.

Lord Yohn nodded. "Lord Arryn speaks truth, Lord Stark. It's the better course." All of them piled on Lord Stark until his long face gave a deep sigh and yielded to the fierce opposition from his war council. It might have actually worked. Jasper thought. But it wouldn't be in the long-term interests of House Arryn and the Crown. I shall break apart Storms End and Highgarden.

"Very well." Lord Stark twisted to him. "Lord Arryn and Lord Royce, within two days you shall be on a boat to the Eyrie." Already Ser Brynden had sent word to summon the banners in his name. "You shall take command of a host of twenty thousand strong and are to march it to Kings Landing to be placed under my overall command. You shall march with all due haste." He turned to Ser Moonton, whom dipped his head. "Lord Regent," He said, "I'm yours to command."

"Ten thousand swords will be placed under your command in Maidenpool. Once assembled, you shall march to Kings Landing and I shall take over the host of Riverlords, Crownlands levies, and Valeman." No one voiced any objections. Lord Stark was an experienced captain of war and the obvious choice to lead them in a campaign. "My son and heir will head south from Winterfell with a twenty thousand strong host and shall be joined by twenty thousand River Lords rallied by Ser Edmure at Riverrun. Once our forces are assembled, we shall see where the war stands." He saw no flaw in it. I wish I could drag it out longer, but it would strain the alliance with the Starks to do so, and he saw no benefit with that.

"Lord Varys," the eunuch giggled. "Tell me of the Iron Islands what have you heard from them." Iron Islands, what did iron born have to do with this conflict? Jasper wondered. "In times of strive, they'll feed on the realm as if it were a dying carcass with raids."

"It's silent from the Iron Islands." Varys admitted. "A worrisome prospect, but it could mean several things."

"Then we shall send a raven to Lord Greyjoy, reminding him of the cost of disloyalty." The death of the Greyjoy boy. Peon? Tion? Jasper couldn't recall his name. The life of an iron born meant little to him, but he hoped Lord Balon would be foolish enough to raid the Reach. It would increase the devastation and weaken their position in a postwar settlement. It could secure the peace for a generation. And the Greyjoys could prove a good scapegoat to unite the realm in their destruction, just as they did for King Robert. The Greyjoy Rebellion united the Seven Kingdoms under Baratheon rule and mayhaps it could work a second time. No one likes those dishonorable whelps from those rocky isles where little lives or grows.

"My lords." Lord Stark stood, and all of them did likewise. "May the Gods show us good fortune in our tasks."

Sweated still beaded down his forehead from his spar with Ser Donnel Waynwood. He won two of the six matches against a fine knight. He fought with other men in his household guard and japed with them until he grew irritated with their company and departed with a false smile. It always pained him to be outgoing, but he had to do it to keep up appearances. I can't be seen as aloof and uncaring. "You are almost as bad as Arrow." Jasper said, smiling as he fed Honor another carrot. "What you don't think so?"

Naturally. His big eyes told him. Jasper always thought he could understand what horses told him. They were intelligent creatures. Much better than people. They never judged him. "I'm seeing Myrcella tonight." He knew she would accept his invitation to dine with him. Soon they would depart for the Eyrie together, but he hoped they would depart fully reunited in heart and body. He would have to go freshen up for it. It would be hard to woo her, covered in sweat and grime like some stableboy.

Honor snorted in approval.

"Yeah, I know you like her." Jasper snorted. "She overfeeds you. You lazy beast."

She's prettier than you, too.

"I hope so she's a girl." Jasper chuckled and stroked his mane. "Do you think she'll accept? I hope so, boy. I wish to see her smile once more."

You better treat her well! It would not be gallant otherwise! Honor was ever sensitive about the feelings of ladies in distress. It was a shame he would have to leave Honor behind here. It bothered him to leave, but duty demanded it. "I'll have you brought back to the Eyrie latter." He promised. "You'll love it! I have another beast named Arrow. I think you shall become fast friends."

I'd like that. I've enjoyed our rides together. Got to stretch my legs.

"I was told I might find you here."

Jasper didn't bother turning around as the happiness in his chest vanished like a wisp of smoke. "Lady Stark." His voice was icy. "Committed another murder, mayhaps?" He could hear the outtake of her breath and felt some satisfaction. You deserve it for making me soil myself in dishonor. Lord Baelish did not deserve such an end for his loyal service.

"Nephew, please turn around."

He couldn't. I may forgive her if I do so. Aunt Catelyn was still kin despite her crimes and he didn't wish to hurt her anymore than he wished to hurt Robert or his cousins. "My lady," He said. "I struggle to see what you hope to accomplish by this visit."

Aunt Catelyn's voice got closer. "I merely wish to bridge the divide that has grown between us. You are family nephew."

"Family? I'm kin if we are being generous and a stranger at worst." He chuckled. "And what divide is this?" He asked. "I've defended your husband and my cousins with word and deed. That has not changed. Or have you gone deaf and simple in your thoughts? I've denounced Lord Baelish, a loyal man, to cover up your murder."

"It was not intentional, and he was guilty."

"By the word of my mother!" He turned around furiously. "A sick woman. She is unwell and still you listen to her words." Jasper glowered and weakened, gazing at her face. She looked at him with more concern than his own mother had ever shown him his entire life. It made him bitter. Why couldn't you have been my mother? Would you have acted like my mother if I lived in Winterfell? However, it was a life he never lived and, like his mother, she betrayed him with her actions and the wound ran deep.

Jasper strengthened his resolve.

As High as Honor!

"It was wrong of us to hide it from you." She admitted. "But we wish to spare you pain, nephew-"

"Spare me your apologies and your false words." Jasper replied, as harsh as the whirling winds. "If you seek absolution, speak with a septon and the gods, for you shall find none from me. Through your actions, an innocent man has died-"

"He was not innocent. You did not gaze him in the eyes or hear his voice." Aunt Catelyn said sharply. "He did not mean you well."

It was too much. "You don't even show any shame for it?" He said abashed. "Have you no honor?"

She walked to him, and he resisted the urge to embrace her. "Myself and Ned have your best interests at heart. Lord Baelish did not." Her voice was pleading, and it tore at him more than he hoped it could.

"That's close enough." He warned. "I shall not endure this slander in private."

"Read the words of your mother and judge for yourself."

"I do not need to read the mad ramblings of my mother."

She pressed the parchment towards him, but he batted away. "I shall not read it, Aunt Catelyn, if you truly wish to help me. Leave me alone." He sighed. "Maybe time shall heal this wound, but it will not be today." He vowed with steel. Jasper knew he owed Lord Baelish that much. "Good day Lady Stark." He said, stiff with cold formality, and brushed past her.

Myrcella

Myrcella imagined she looked ghastly, with skin as pale as snow with red-rimmed eyes. Her hair was a mess, and she had yet the draw a bath since the dinner. I'm as dirty as I feel. "Myrcella, I worry for you." Sansa said. "You look-"

"I know how I look." Her voice was flat and without emotion."What do you want?"

"Your hurting. I wish to help you. I'm your friend Myrcella, and friends help one another in days like this."

Myrcella snorted. "You're a piece to me. Not a friend." She said, not meaning a word of it. "All of us are mere pieces on some board." It was like a game of cyvasse. Am I a knight? Or a man of arms? Mother used her like a piece to get rid of brave Ser Kevan. She didn't care what it did to her. How it darkened her heart. But she wasn't Joffrey, so her feelings didn't matter.

I'm ruined. I'm soiled, as if she had given up her virtue.

"Oh, princess." Sansa whispered, placing her hand on her shoulder and squeezing. "In times like this, you should be in the company of friends."

Myrcella twisted away. "Leave before I summon a guard." She threatened.

Sansa sighed. "You should really be with someone, Myrcella, maybe your betrothed?"

She laughed, a bitter sound that made Sansa flinch. Jasper was the last person in the world she wanted to see. Myrcella couldn't bear to look him in the eyes without remembering. I would have killed him, too. His blood would have been on my hands. In her dreams, she imagined kissing him and his body convulsing on the floor, coughing up his lifeblood as she wept. The last time she had seen Jasper, he had kissed her, and she erupted into tears and bolted from him.

"Your mother asks for you."

Myrcella stirred to life. "Did she now?" Her voice was dangerously low.

Sansa was oblivious to the change in tone. "Yes, I heard whispers from some of the guards that she asks of you. She loves you deeply. I know when I'm upset, I would want my mother's company. To brush my hair and soothe my worries away. I can speak with my father about you visiting if you-"

"Why would I want that?" She spat out with venom. "If your father were smart, he would muzzle her like a rabid dog." It was the happiest news she heard since she exiled herself to this room amid her crippling guilt and shame. They imprisoned her in the Maidenvault. She smiled when they told her. Myrcella hope the walls would drive her raving mad and she would choke on her stupidity.

Sansa looked horrified, sputtering. "I-"

"Get out." Myrcella whispered, fighting back the tears. "Get out!" She wailed with a desperate command. Myrcella needed to be alone and Sansa was just making everyone worse. I'm a kinslayer. I'm a broken princess. When she remained in the room, frozen in place, Myrcella leaned over and flung her hairbrush. It flew wide above her head and Sansa made a hasty retreated from the room, ducking as she left. Myrcella collapsed onto the pillows and sobbed. Stupid… so stupid. She should have picked up on her mother's plot, Ser Kevan may still draw breath if she had. If she had been quicker, Cousin Lancel would be alive as well. All the good men that followed him on a fools crusade for honor would draw breath. Even the wretched Lady Margaery didn't deserve to be maimed. Her ladies-in-waiting didn't deserve to be put to the sword like pigs, to the slaughter.

But she failed.

Fooled by the false love, mother showed her. Despite everything, I yearn for it. She thought her tamed and declawed by Ser Kevan. Only one thing would stop her, and I don't have the courage to see it done. Myrcella mused. Unless she killed Jasper, I would kill her for that. A vow she would keep, even if it meant her own life. It still amazed her she struck mother and her hand didn't fall off.

It was the guilt that haunted her. Only the truth could set her free. Several times she considered dressing and throwing herself at Lord Starks feet and confessing her crimes. My heinous crime. It wouldn't change anything. War would still take place between her grandfather and Lord Tyrell, but she could look at herself in the mirror again. But she couldn't. She was afraid of leaving Tommen alone in this world. Lord Stark might punish her for being the catspaw. I carried the poison that did the deed. It was not a risk she could take, but the guilt was overwhelming. Maybe it was a fate she deserved? She went over that day over and over in her mind and she should have realized it. Why didn't I put it together?

Jasper

Jasper wore his finest doublet he brought with him from the Eyrie for dinner. Septon Layne would be in tears if he saw him. He played lazily with his cold food; a handsome steak with mashed potatoes coated in a thick gravy. He twisted around and looked at the hour and sighed. She isn't coming. The candle at the center of the table had burned through the wax. Princess Myrcella's silverware was set, and he had her favorite dessert prepared apple pie. A dozen white roses sat by the candles in a vase and a copy of Septa Eleyna's Poems on Love on his lap. A rare tome with moving works that warmed the heart. I wish to charm her heart. Jasper's knuckles whitened as he gripped his silverware. A feeling of frustration coursed through him. What am I fucking doing wrong? A romantic dinner for two. He was certain she would have accepted his invitation. Letters, gifts, none of which swayed his golden softness in his chest made him feel weak and vulnerable, like that stupid little boy who loved songs and stories of knights rescuing maidens from towers. Politically everything was going perfectly to plan. He derailed the investigation into his mother. Secured a seat on the Small Council for the Vale. The Tyrells and the Lannisters would slaughter the other, and they would pick up the pieces. It was perfect. House Arryn future had never looked brighter, but none of that made him truly happy.

Jasper grumbled and shoved the book of love poems to the floor and stood up, hot and bothered. I need to hit something. I need to act like a man and not some soft willed boy. He lost his appetite as he worried more over the heart than about summoning his banners. I had something with her. I was making something with her. And somehow he had dashed it. Ruined it and nothing he could do would repair it. Hope leaves the worst scar on the heart. Every time I think I could be happy, I ruin it. Maybe he was destined to only have his duty? It seemed to be the case. I can't keep doing this to myself. I just can't.

It mattered little duty served him well enough. He would have to give the cooks his thanks, though. They had put effort into making this meal for him and he didn't have a bite. I must thank even the small for doing their duty well. Maybe he would give them his meal? It seemed the honorable thing to do. Otherwise, they would simply throw it out for the gutter rats. The city was swimming with them. Myrcella had shown him when he traveled with her to some orphanage. Yet, another reason the capital was a cesspool, along with the courtly intrigue. Lords have duties that their high birth entrusts to them and it was disgusting how they shirked their obligations, but men are weak. There is little good about people. Most are rotten and selfish to the core, but there were innocents as well.

The realm bleeds because of the rotten..

Your rotten too.. A small voice reminded him and Jasper could feel a hint of guilt. I didn't cause it. They afflicted these wounds themselves. The Tyrells should have known better, and the Lannisters earned this fate for what they did to those poor babes. How could you slaughter new borns? It was uncivilized, unbefitting a noble bloodline like the Lannisters. The line of Lann the Clever should have known better than to stain their reputation in dishonor so openly. Have they no shame? Prince Rhaegar's children should have been sent to Winterfell, where they could cause no problems and when they reached adulthood sent to a noble order where they may find some honor for the sins of their father. Princess Elia should have been married to Lord Stannis and if the Seven were good, would have sired a son to stay Dorne's hand. Men told him his father brought the Dornish back into the fold. "Lord Jon left with the whispers of war swirling and returned with blessings of peace." Though Jon Arryn never told him how it was done. I was soiled in his eyes. Never worthy of being his heir.

Everyone grows to hate me, eventually. Mother. Father. Harry. Lord Stark. Aunt Catelyn. His cousins. Maybe even Myrcella. How can I make so many mistakes when I only wish to make the right ones? Thousands of Valeman depended on him to make the right choices. If he couldn't handle his own heart, how could he hope to handle the Vale? Would he be known as the Arryn who failed? So many needed him to make the right choices. It was his responsibility and his burden alone. It was a burden that gave him many sleepless nights. Maybe he would always be a lone falcon? It seemed to be his curse. Maybe he deserved it for his imperfections? He was isolated too long in the Eyrie in his cage. He forgot how to be human.

It was a bitter thought, and it always played out the same. "It doesn't matter." He mumbled. "I'll do my duty to the Vale no matter the end."

"My lord." Ser Marwyn Belmore popped his head in and Jasper found his heart racing. Myrcella? Are you coming after all?

"Lady Sansa of House Stark wishes entry. Shall I deny her?"

Jasper masked his disappointment. "Of course not." He used his fake outgoing smile. "Send in my cousin." She walked in with the perfect poise of a lady and offered a curtesy. He kissed her hand immediately. "What a lovely surprise. My sweet cousin as beautiful as the dawn."

"My lord. Gallant as always." Cousin Sansa replied and peered at the dining table of uneaten food. "Oh, do you have guests, cousin? I beg your pardon if I'm interrupting."

"It's only myself." Jasper said. "I fear my guest decided not to show."

He knew he sounded a bit irritated and tried to recover with his fake smile that dazzled maidens. "Would you care to join me, cousin?" He asked. "The food is cold, but I'm sure you may enjoy the apple pie."

"It's a kind offer, cousin, but I shall dine with my family shortly. You could join us if you wish?" Cousin Sansa offered.

Jasper stiffened at the thought of a dinner with the Starks. "tis a fair offer, but I doubt they would find me good company." I shall not dine with the man who wished to destroy my family or the woman who killed a loyal banner. As sad and twisted as it was, he still had to defend what remained of it. He would work with Lord Stark to maintain an honorable realm, but he would not dine with them. It would be dishonorable to do so. As High as Honor!

"Oh, that's a shame." She sounded disappointed. "You haven't quarreled with father, have you?" Her voice raised a pitch.

"It's little of your concern." He said curtly. "Tell me cousin why you are truly here?"

Cousin Sansa's eyes twinkled with a sight he saw in women. Intervention. She wishes to meddle in something. "I'm ever so worried about Princess Myrcella. She's unwell, and I thought you could help her."

Jasper hardened. "You thought wrong." It was far too harsh, and he softened when she flinched from his tone. She is a lady of noble birth. A gentle creature of soft disposition. Jasper reminded himself. "I apologize." He said. "Forgive my tone, but there is little I can do."

"How can you be so certain?"

"Trust me, I've tried everything. Letters, gifts, I even kissed her. None of it has ended well." He sighed. Even now, it puzzled him. In the tiltyard, it required decisive, firm action to secure victory. You had to trust your instincts and what your gut and eyes tell you. Jasper trusted his gut. When she came to him hysterical, stricken by some womanly madness, it told him to kiss her and true love would be restored between them. All the songs said it should have been so. She should have kissed him back, calmed by his strong declarations of affections. Instead, she bolted from him, weeping as if he were a monster. It was maddening. It was irksome, and he liked none of it.

"Maybe you should have listened to her instead?" Cousin Sansa suggested.

Jasper crossed his arms. "That sounds girlish."

"What do you have to lose, cousin? You both look so miserable." It was a reasonable position. He was quite miserable. What do I have to lose at this point?

He scoffed. "It's not so simple." He said, walking towards the balcony. It was a beautiful night with the stars above them. Jasper could stare at the stars for hours. Myrcella loved the stars, and he wished to show her the constellations his grand uncle had shown him. It was a fine dream of summer. She would likely learn more than him. Myrcella always recalled things better than him. "She needs distance. It's what she wants." His voice weakened with bitterness.

Cousins Sansa's hand touched his wrist. "She needs you to listen to her cousin.

Jasper sighed. "I'm not convinced that's true and I've made my choice." It would be a mistake to seek her out before she was ready with whatever ailed her. Cousin Sansa was staring at him with worry and it annoyed him. I shouldn't make her worry. It wasn't knightly to make a maiden worry. He chuckled and twisted sharply. "It is well enough. Now." He pointed. "I best get you back to your father. I wouldn't wish him to worry over your whereabouts." Jasper offered his hand.

"And Myrcella?" She asked with a stubborn glint that demanded an answer.

Jasper stiffened and spoke honestly. "She'll be fine without me. She doesn't need me. Myrcella needs her friends like yourself."

"She needs you. Have you not seen her?! Myrcella never leaves her room haunted by whatever she has suffered. Her eyes puffy from her tears without her gallant knight by her side."

"You are mistaken." He dismissed with a wave of his hand. "I shall speak no further of this."

It couldn't possibly be that bad. Myrcella held a strong character. The mere death of her grand uncle shouldn't have caused such a collapse.

Cousin Sansa blinked, astonished. "So you abandon her in her hour of need."

It was absolutely the wrong thing to say. He darkened. "Abandon?" He mumbled, thinking of the Eyrie and all of those lonely nights listening to the roaring wind curled up in the sheets wishing for his parents to tuck him in. Wishing more than dreams and songs. Wishing for a mother's tender caress and a father's warm hand. "Abandon!" His voice cracked like a whip, and she flinched at the change in his tone. "I've never abandoned anyone a day in my life!" He raged. "How dare you accuse me of such?"

"Cousin I-"

"You are a silly girl who knows absolutely nothing!" Jasper seethed.

"Ser Marwyn!" He commanded with his lord's voice as cold as the winds of the Eyrie. His man came stumbling in. "See, my cousin is escorted back to the Kings Tower." He twisted to his subdued cousin as quiet as a lamb. Silenced by his fury. "Enjoy your dinner with your family and have a good night." He said with the thinnest of courtesy.

When she left him, he mumbled. "Abandonment…" Shaking his head in disbelief.

His parents abandoned him to his golden cage high in the clouds, but he would abandon no one. Jasper didn't abandon Robert when mother dropped him over the Moondoor. He didn't abandon a simple man of arms outmatched by a clansman axe. He charged forward with reckless courage, risking life and limb for one of his men, not caring what happened to him. Grand Uncle Brynden had scolded him for it, but he would do it again. It was his duty as an Arryn to defend those sworn to him. Even Snow a stain of dishonor he didn't abandon him to a dishonorable fate. Jasper would never abandon anyone in need of his protection. Especially those he loved.

I didn't abandon Myrcella. She knows that. Doesn't she? Doubt hounded him, but he shook it off. Cousin Sansa is over-exaggerating. Myrcella is fine. She doesn't need me. I'll just make it worse.

Jasper knew what the truth was and would keep to his strategy. Distance. Patience. Gifts. She didn't feel abandoned. It wasn't possible.

Myrcella

She was lost in her thoughts and regrets as she came in and out of sleep when the object of her affections walked in, his honest eyes wide with disbelief. "I… I should have come sooner." Jasper said. "I thought you needed space after my previous attempt at comfort." He kissed me. She said nothing in reply and couldn't even look him in the eyes. He sat at the edge of her bed, legs crossed. "I was wrong. Very wrong."

"You should go. I'm terrible." She sniffled.

"I find that hard to believe." Jasper replied. "I know you are a good person with a kind heart. I've seen it firsthand."

"You would be wrong then."

Jasper tried to inch closer to her. "Myrcella…"

"Get away from me! Don't touch me!" She kicked away from him, backing herself against the backboard of the bed, feeling trapped like a cornered beast about to be slaughtered. He flinched as if struck and stood up, his face contorting with annoyance. He grabbed the bridge of his nose and swallowed it.

"I was raised by a rough man. A solider, I know precious little of the affairs of the heart or the sentiments of women." Jasper sighed deeply and sat back down. "I want to help you, but I confess I don't know how." His eyes sparkled with a quiet determination. "But I shall not leave this room until I know you are well. I would rather die than see you suffer so."

It twisted a dull blade in her stomach. "You don't mean that."

"I would face the flames of a dragon for you. There is no greater honor than dying for those you love." And the dumb brave fool meant it. Jasper's beautiful, honest eyes spoke the truth, and his face was always infuriatingly handsome. A rugged handsomeness that made her dream of the marriage bed. Somehow he was like a knight in shining armor, one she always dreamed would ride up to the Red Keep on a white stallion and rescue her from mother and Joffrey. I don't deserve it. I don't deserve him. He was not the perfect knight of a song, but he came closer than most. Harsh in his judgement and rash in his actions, but he was also kind and brave, like a man of the Kingsguard

"Please stop Jasper. I'm unworthy of such."

"You should have thought of that before you stole my heart like a thief in the night." Jasper glowered. "And I shall not have it returned to me. It's yours from this day until my last day."

"Stop." Her voice was weak as he said words that made her blush. Warm sentiments she craved to hear from his lips. "Please Jasper, say not these words."

"How can you think yourself unworthy?" Jasper asked. "I'm the unworthy one. My thoughts and deeds are shameful and everything I touch turns to ash, but you." He spoke with fondness. "you are a perfect princess that could love even a pigheaded fool like myself. I've met no one who's more perfect than you." He smiled. "Every time I tried to ruin what could grow between us, you fixed it with the skill of a maester. I admire you deeply, princess. I admire your kind heart and your intelligent mind. You make me feel as if I could actually be a true Arryn. A man of honor that won't fail everyone." It made her blush a bright crimson red. He adjusted his collar with some uncertainty at the awkward silence between them. "Please say something, or have I made a fool of-" She didn't let him finish and buried her face into his chest, weeping.

"I'm terrible." She sobbed harder, staining his doublet. "So terrible and wretched, like a villain." He said nothing and wrapped his arms around her and held her in place. Jasper wiped away her tears with his hanker chef, as chivalrous as a Knight of the Vale.

"Nothing could be so terrible, princess. I refuse to believe it." Jasper said.

Myrcella told him the truth. She had to tell him it was eating her alive. His eyes grew hard with judgement as she spoke the truth. It worried her what he was thinking. "Talk to me. Please. What are you thinking?"

"I wish you told me earlier." He mumbled. "Your mother is quite the villain. It's vile what she did." He said with disdain. "She should face the headsman, but we must keep it secret for your sake and the sake of the Crown. This is a scandal we cannot afford."

"You don't think me wicked?" Myrcella asked.

"You?" Jasper reached out and caressed her cheek as if it were made of glass. "You are innocent of any crimes. The fault lies with your mother, not with you."

She sucked in a breath. "I could have killed you, Jasper."

"But I'm not dead." Jasper said, clenching his jaw. "Now you will stop dwelling on this nonsense. Whats done is done. Now, we shall move forward." His voice forbade any further argument.

"Oh, Jasper, it's eating me alive. I have to confess to Lord Stark."

Jasper blinked and scowled. "You will do nothing of the sort, I forbid it!" He commanded as if she were little more than a servant to be ordered about at his beck and whim. "You shall hold you tongue until I say otherwise. I will not tolerate disobedience."

She stiffened and lifted her chin up defiantly. "You are not my husband yet, Jasper. You cannot command it of me."

"I… I." His façade of command crumbled as he grabbed her hands. "You can't Myrcella. Please." He begged. "I can't lose you. I don't know what Lord Stark would do. The man is an enigma to me. I think him a good man, but his interests are not my own." His voice trailed. "He would have killed my mother if he suspected her guilty and would tear apart my family and those I love for the sake of honor. I would do things to protect you." Jasper twisted away, ashamed. "Things I would regret…" He lowered his gaze. Myrcella could feel her heart pounding in her chest at this confession. It would hurt him to do those things, and she couldn't find it in herself to hurt him even to appease her conscience. I could make him do terrible things if I wished and he had similar power over her. Love made them both fools, but she would have it no other way.

"Do you feel so strongly about me?"

Jasper's cheeks were as red as his hair, and he nodded his head. "My father wished me to be a lonely falcon. Only alone can one maintain his honor." He said with a deep bitterness. "Flying above everyone, but I'm weak. I don't wish to be alone any longer." He coughed. "Can we cease this womanly talk? I dislike this warmth in my chest. I prefer action to this talking." He looked like a fish out of water talking about his feelings. It always embarrassed him. He did it for my sake.

She leaned her head on his shoulder. "Yes, Jasper, we can stop. Anything for my hero." She whispered.

"I'm no hero." He mumbled, flustered, wishing to be anywhere else. "I'm a lord."

"Your my shining knight Jasper, whether you care to admit to such. You live up to your words as High as Honor."

"I-"

Myrcella silenced his doubts with a kiss and, unlike her nightmares, he didn't spew blood onto the floor. He was with her and would always protect her as long as he drew breath. I'll help him keep his handsome head on his neck. She tried to ensnare his heart to protect herself and her brother, but she found she had grown to love him as well. Gods help me, I love him. And he would march off to war, leaving her alone in the Eyrie. The kiss deepened as she clutched strands of auburn beneath her fingers. It was a frantic and sweet kiss that left her breathless and wanting for more. She pulled away. "Myrcella," He said as she pressed their foreheads against the other. "Are you well again?"

It was a question with a straightforward answer.

And she gave it with another kiss.

Authors note: That was a huge chapter! So I made the mistake of writing our Jasper/Myrcella first cause I've written them the most so usually it's easier, but I wrote more than I intended. Next chapter, I'm going to focus on solely the War in the Reach. And then after that I'm going to write a huge Vale Chapter cumulating in a wedding between Myrcella/Jasper. I've added a small link on my profile to a poll if you want to do give me some feedback on who your favorite POV is I've written. I like to get some feedback and I think it'll be fun to see what the majority of you think. As always I enjoy reviews and I hoped you enjoyed it.

KingofSummer245: Yes, I'd imagine Robert would have married a female Ned that he was fostered with. He loves Lyanna solely cause of her connection with Ned and what she reprents. As for Tommen the kid has a soft heart and doesn't like the concept of killing or violence so it troubles him the realm is going off to war. And yeah the war is going to be brutal, I hope you'll enjoy it as I show more of it in the next chapter.

Matty: Well, I tried my best. If you don't like it oh well, I tried. I'm sure there are plenty of other stories on here you can enjoy!