The Broken Stag

"The Prancing Stag!"

"A Stag of shit!"

"Parley breaker!"

"Lord Tywin fucked you right up your arse."

"You like that, though! Sword swallower!"

"Did the Tyrell boy fuck you, too? Or did you fuck him?!"

Renly heard it all and said nothing to his tormenters. Shit coated him as he wallowed in own piss and horse dung. Lords and knights alike spat at him when they passed. Not that Renly cared. I can't feel my legs.

A crippled.

Broken and ugly.

And Renly gave into despair. It didn't matter if he was rescued or released. I died with Bryce and the rest. They bound him in this wooden cage, ropes secured his wrists and when they moved, they tied him to the back of a horse like a sack of flour. Men struck him as they rode and the Lannister guardsman assigned to him turned a blind eye. When he begged them to intervene, the one with missing teeth told him. "You won't die, milord. Doesn't mean we can't have our justice for Ser Kevan." He learned to keep his tears to himself as the bruises and welts formed. It only made it worse to complain. Renly closed his eyes and remembered the warmth of Loras's body under the covers. The Warrior made flesh, especially after a day in the training yard, sweat glistening from his skin. A light blush crept on his face when he caressed his jaw as soft as glass. Loras was always beautiful when he blushed. Did it happen? Or was it only a dream? Please let me awake in my apartment in the Red Keep. Let me wake with my legs whole again. Loras would be wrapped tightly around him. He would tell a jape about the nightmare.

"A true loves kiss shall make you forget."

Darkness claimed him, and he slept. He dreamed of when he was beautiful and whole. As beautiful as Robert was. Tall and strong, a king in the making. His story should have begun by vanquishing the Old Lion.

Instead, he lost everything that mattered. A crown, use of his legs, and his beloved knight of flowers

Renly woke gasping as a bucket of water drenched him. "Wake up milord!" He groaned and shivered from the chilly water that froze the skin. "Stand up in the presence of Lord Tywin Lannister!" He barked.

"I can't." His teeth chattered.

The butt of a spear cracked against his stomach. Renly wheezed. "Stand!" He cried out, tossing him by the collar into the muddy grass. He sunk into the filth until his eyes disappeared underneath the mud. As a child, he detested the mud, and now he was covered in it. Could one drown in mud? A part of him hoped so. It would be a release from the pain. Maybe he would see Loras again? Renly lifted his shaking head up from his squalor to gaze into the eyes of his captor.

Lord Tywin stood above him, a proud smirk on his face. And who are you the proud lord said…The song echoed in his head. It almost broke him into a fresh round of tears. A boy with blond hair and green eyes hovered around him, his expression neutral. One of the Lannister relations, but there were too many to keep track. "Stand before the Lion of the West!" The man raised the spear, and Renly lifted his hands to protect himself. "Enough." Lord Tywin said, and the blow never struck. "You may go." The man bowed at once and obeyed.

"Now, tell me what you see nephew, before you."

"A broken man."

"Yes." Lord Tywin agreed. "Do you know what broke him?"

When the boy held his silence, Lord Tywin answered his own question. "Vanity." He said. "Vanity and recklessness. It was the downfall of the prancing stag. Let that be a warning to yourself." The storm had broken in his chest and his head lowered submissively. "Look at him, broken legs rolling in his filth. The Lord of Storms End, the brother of the king, brought so low. The maester tells me he'll likely never sire an heir."

"And that's the most important thing for a lord!" The boy exclaimed.

Lord Tywin nodded with approval. "Without an heir legacy fades away. Only the family name lives on."

Even in the mud and muck, he had sunk even lower. I'm the object of a lesson for a boy. "Send me back to my cage." He mumbled.

"No japes?" Lord Tywin asked. "You had so many."

"Send me back to my cage." He repeated. "Damn you! Send me back!"

Lord Tywin gazed at him like he was only a bug to squish underneath his boot. "Your tired." He said in a detached manner. "I suppose defeat does that to a man. Send out captive back. Our lesson is done."

They tossed his limp body into the cell. He landed face first in a pile of his own shit as they laughed and jeered. The final straw broke as he curled up in a ball. It bounced off him like rocks off a shield. There was nothing left to hurt anymore. The choice became only one. Nothing else matters. Crippled and broken. Deprived of Loras. Every day a living jape to be tormented amongst the Lions. A broken shell of a man. He needed it to be over. Renly couldn't even walk to his end, but he crawled to an inglorious end. He grasped the bars, lifting himself up, and struck the bars with strength that Robert would be proud of. Blood flowed as he yelled out in pain. He did it again. "Stop him!" The cry came. Too late. Renly smirked, and his vision darkened.

His eyes fluttered open and Renly wondered if he would see his parents again. Or would it be Loras that greeted him first? Then a feeling of dull pain as his mouth was dry. "Water." He moaned. "Water." His throat was as dry as the desert of Dorne. He tried to move his hand, but found he couldn't. Chains bound him and prevented his movement. Chains? Oh, I failed. Loras was beyond him. He was still a broken man and a captive of the lions. They took his only chance of relief from him.

The tears flowed, and he wept.

Jasper

The irritation grew as they looked at him with big, eager eyes. "Are we almost there yet, cousin?" Cousin Bran asked him.

His grand uncle snickered and rode on.

Traitor.

Jasper wanted to groan. He saw little sympathy in his sers eyes. I know I left them with you. His wards were fine, lads, but the constant stream of questions would try anyone's patience. It had been a long trip. "We'll get there when we get there."

"And how long is that going to be?" Cousin Bran groaned.

"Longer if you keep thinking of it."

Prince Tommen rode up with a bright smile. "Cheer up Bran! Soon we'll be making camp!"

"Good thing for Adrian, I suppose." Bran grinned at the struggling Belmore. His horsemanship left much to be desired. Jasper sighed. The fault lies with me. I'll have to spend more time with him. One of his knights was seeing to him. Cousin Bran and Prince Tommen soon engaged in conversation and left him to his thoughts. His days followed the same routine. Arise, break up camp and set out on the march with his lords and wards. Make camp. Oversee the training of his wards in lance and sword. It was just the way he liked it. Perfectly structured with few surprises. They had recently joined up with Ser Moonton and his River Lords. More men for him to play this mummers farce with. Two days had passed since they left Maidenpool. Everyone seemed high in spirits over the glory they would seize. His grand uncle called them fools. "They'll be pissing themselves at the first charge." And he couldn't help but agree. The only glory was survival, and he would kill anyone to return home. I'm going to defeat my enemies and return home. Now, he had something important waiting for him and he would not treat callously. It would be shameful to do so.

The sun died behind him. A full moon will be upon us soon. Jasper opened the flaps to his pavilion, his fake smile fading from his face. Lord Belmore and Lady Anya Waynwood disappeared from view. The conversation about the supply lines and the quarrels between the River Lords was draining. He had cooperated with Ser Moonton, a fine man, to smooth things over and keep the peace between all the different parties. When they arrived in Kings Landing, this shall become Lord Starks problem. Let him handle our petty squabbles. On his desk sat parchment, neatly folded. Everything in his pavilion had its place. Perfectly orderly as he needed it to be. A book hidden underneath his pillow for a read late in the night. It was on Ser Ryam Redwyne, a true knight and a terrible hand. It was a riveting tale of tragedy for an honorable man and it made him wish to weep, thinking of it. A true knight makes a terrible lord.

He walked towards his chair, bent down on his knees, and pulled out the object of affection. A simple jade knight.

"I can't take this from you. You would have an incomplete set." Jasper said, holding her tightly.

"I have another set." Myrcella folded it back into his hand. "It's my favorite piece. It reminds me of you. My knight in shining armor." Her arms wrapped around his neck. "I want you to have it. I know you'll return it to me."

Her words turned his heart into a soggy puddle.

"I'll always return Myrcella." He sealed his promise with a chaste kiss. "I accept my quest. I'll return this piece back to you."

Jasper played with the jade knight, twirling it between his fingers before setting it down on his desk with a small sigh. She trusts me too much. Doubts haunted him as he sat down and penned his letter for Myrcella. It was his favorite part of the day, writing to her. He imagined his golden princess playing with a loose strand of hair when she read it. She always played with her hair when she read. It was the small things he found he missed the most. This was the only time of the day he permitted himself to think of her. He focused everything else on running the host and seeing it get to Lord Stark in one piece.

"Penning a letter to your wife, boy?"

He didn't lift his head up. "I am. Is there something else I should do?"

"No. Seems a good use of your time." The Blackfish snorted. "Probably writing something soft and sentimental. Ladies like that sort of thing."

Jasper nodded.

His grizzled uncle watched him, arms crossed, standing. "Please sit grand uncle wouldn't wish you to tire in your advanced age." Jasper's lip twirled up at his ribbing.

A single snort.

"I'm not old enough that I couldn't put you into the dirt."

Jasper chuckled and sighed. He knew why he was here. "You want another row, don't you?" He said, suddenly tired. "You know we don't have to. Why argue over something that can't be changed?"

His eyes narrowed as tight as arrow slits. "We grow closer to the Capital…" Jasper rubbed his temples. "You'll be meeting Lord Stark and you've yet to tell me what you are hiding."

"Nor shall I." Jasper said with some heat. "I swore an oath. And I will not break it."

"Stubborn boy. How can I help you if you won't speak of it?" Ser Brynden said. "And what if the secret comes out Jasper Arryn?" He flinched as if struck by the mention of his full name.

"It won't." Jasper said through clenched teeth. "I buried the secret." Only Queen Cersei and Myrcella had any knowledge of it. Nothing could implicate him or Myrcella, save the word of the Queen. And it would damn her if she did so. Whomever secured the poison for her grace would know of the queens involvement, but not Myrcella. She had told no one else. Not even Cousin Sansa. How could anyone possibly know?

"Secrets have a habit of coming into the light. I hope you are prepared for it."

"It won't come to that." Jasper said as he gazed at the Jade knight.

"I hope you're right."

The honor guard approached them outside of the walls as the sun glared from the center of the sky. The sigil of House Stark and the Crown flapping in the wind. It was Lord Stark, Jasper recognized at the head of the column on top of a great warhorse. The man looked born to lead armies of men. He sat in the saddle well. Among the party, the Commanders of the Watch Ser Wendel, Ser Tallhart, Ser Donnel Waynwood, Eddard and Harrion Karstark and a dozen Stark guardsman as well. On his side Ser Brynden rode with him as well as Lord Yohn Royce ontop a white warhorse. The servants dressed his wards in clean attire for the ride through the city gates. Ser Arys shadowed Prince Tommen. "We are here!" Jasper said and winked at Bran, who reddened. "Well, let's not keep them waiting any longer!" And kicked Arrows side, sending him into a steady gallop and a storm of dust formed behind them. When he arrived, Lord Starks eyes burned into him as harsh as the Father himself. It took Jasper aback and almost made him forget his words.

"Lord Stark." Jasper said with a dutiful dip of his head. "We are at the service of the Iron Throne. Twenty thousand swords and lances at your command."

"They shall serve well." Lord Stark agreed as his grey eyes fell upon young Brandon and softened. "Bran? Is that you?"

Bran nodded. "Yes, father!"

It was a heartwarming scene between father and son as he placed his hand upon the boy's shoulder. Yet, Jasper felt bothered by Lord Starks initial reaction to him. Suspicion? Or did he imagine it? Jasper hoped it was his mind playing tricks on him. He shook his head. Bran returned to his side as they rode to the Red Keep. "Ride with your father, cousin." Jasper gave a small smile. "Your place is by his side."

Bran grinned. "Thank you, my lord!" A boy should be with his father.

When they passed through the gates, Jasper tightened, and his nostrils recoiled at the smell. Men in the city lived like rats back close together in their own squalor. How could people live like this? So close to one another. It made him tighten seeing so many eyes gazing at him. He looked back and Prince Tommen shot him a cheerful smile unbothered. "I can't wait to see mother. I just know she'll be proud of me."

Jasper nodded. He couldn't find it in him to say anything kind about her grace. She harmed Myrcella. His vision darkened, and he knew he would have to avoid her like the plague, less he was the reason the secret was spilled. Though when Lord Stark gazed at him again with the same look in the courtyard, Jasper wondered if that was even possible. "Come, nephew, I wish to speak with you in private." Lord Stark told him as they dismounted.

"If that is your wish, my lord." Jasper replied. "Though if you wish to spend time with your son, I won't fault you."

"This can't wait." Lord Stark said solemnly.

When they entered the Tower of the Hand(Lord Stark didn't wish to live in the Tower of the King) Jasper knew it was over.

He knows. Every gaze. Every look in his eyes told him the truth and when Lord Stark entered his solar and sat behind his desk. "Take a seat, nephew." He said as a long face of a Stark studied him with a stern look. He won't take her from me! I won't let him. He vowed. But he heeded the rules and took his seat.

"Gladly my lord." Jasper said, keeping his voice cordial.

"Is there something you wish to tell me, nephew?" He crossed his fingers in his lap to keep the nervous energy hidden.

Jasper gave a quizzical look before shaking his head and played the fool. "I think I've mentioned everything relevant in my letters about Cousin Brans progress or the war effort." His voice perfectly polite and measured.

Lord Stark sighed. "Did Queen Cersei kill Ser Kevan?Did you know Princess Myrcella did it?" He asked him and the dread overwhelmed him. His heart quickened in his chest as he had to defend Myrcella's honor and protect her. It commanded him and made a slave of him. Lord Stark became a threat in that moment. A threat to his wife and the reputation of House Arryn. His intentions were an enigma as his body screamed for him to act. You won't win! I'm going to defend them both! He hated when his grand uncle was right. Damn grizzled trout. The secret had come home to roost as he told him it would and Jasper was unprepared with how to contain it.

"It wasn't her fault." Jasper snapped rising with great vigor from his seat. "She's a sweet innocent girl that didn't know her mothers intent!"

"So it is true. Why didn't you tell me?" Lord Stark asked and Jasper almost scoffed.

"I didn't know what you would do to her, so I held my tongue." And that was the truth of it. Jasper never thought he would have slandered House Arryn with a public trial, but he would have. All he knew of Lord Stark were the stories he had heard and he admired him until he twisted the dagger in his back. I don't know him. I don't understand him.

"You thought I would harm Roberts blood?" Lord Stark asked, shocked.

Jasper nodded. "Yes, that's exactly what I thought." He said bluntly. "I didn't think you would have brought my mother before a public trial, but you did." His voice was barely civil.

A change overcame Lord Stark. He hardened. "You shame Jon Arryn." His words made him see stars. "You skirt justice. For what? The sake of appearances? You would have let the murder of your father go unpunished. Is that what motivated you with Princess Myrcella? Simple appearances?"

Jasper felt dazed with fury like from a blow in the training yard, but he eventually found his voice. "I did it to protect her, and I do it again from a man who names himself a friend, but acts otherwise!" His skin burned by the foul claim. "Why should I have trusted you when I understand you not. You say one thing, but do another." Why was he trying to destroy his family and his fathers legacy? Jasper didn't understand him at all. Father loved you. You were his greatest success.

"I have no idea how you've reached such flawed conclusions."

"You would have dragged my family's name through the muck. My fathers legacy destroyed by your false belief my mother is anything more than a madwoman."

Lord Stark shook his head, with a voice filled with sadness. "You think Jon cared for legacy? You think that was some precious thing to him?" He sighed. "I suppose Jon did neglect you if you think this. I promise he did not care for legacy, only seeking justice." It was a lie. His father cared about the legacy of House Arryn, his letters told him as much. Lord Stark didn't know him as well as he thought.

"There is nothing to worry over a public trial. It is a just course."

Jasper laughed bitterly. "Even when I proved her innocent men would always whisper that she murdered him." He scoffed. He could heart the jeers and the japes about his father. A weak man murdered by his wife. Old. Frail. Senile. Men may even question their birth. It was unacceptable. Robert his frail brother couldn't handle that. It's not true! "My father sacrificed everything for you! He raised his banners and fought the Targaryens and risked his life for yours. Then, for seventeen years, he ran the Seven Kingdoms for the sake of honor until it killed him and this is how you repay him? By spitting on his memory! His legacy! All destroyed in one trial led by his former ward. A man he considered a son."

Lord Stark only gave him a resigned look as if he had committed some great sin.

"Did you even intend to keep your pledge to investigate your mother?"

"I gave my word." Jasper said, offended at the mere suggestion he would break it. " I intended to speak with her once the war was done. I suggest-"

"A war of your making you mean?" Jasper sat back down, stunned at the allegation. "You could have stopped it if you came to me. Do you even understand what war entails? Have you heard of the savageries being committed in the Reach? All of that blood you could have stopped." Not blood of the Vale. Jasper thought. Their position would be stronger for it. They were threats to their dominance over the realm and needed to be removed. Why stop them from making a grave mistake?

His cheeks reddened at the charge. "It was the Tyrells and the Lannisters who did this. They chose their own fate. I did nothing to encourage them." He stood up." I safeguarded my ward. I defended the Crown. I fulfilled my oaths."

"That's right, nephew, you did nothing." Lord Stark said and judged him. "I'm sure that is small comfort to the lives lost."

Jasper forced himself to swallow. "As you will." He calmed himself. The war of words would not suit either of them or the Crown. They couldn't be so divided. Not yet while hosts stood breaking the Kings Peace. "If you wish to punish me, I only ask it be done after the conflict is done. Duty demands we keep a unified front for the good of the Royal family."

"Listen well," Lord Stark said with an icy command like the Kings of Winter of Old. "You will do exactly as I say and when I say it." He bristled. "I should bring this before the court, but I won't out of the love I hold for your father. Your actions were shameful. I find them disgraceful. No matter the noble reasons behind them." Jasper nodded, accepting the bitter rebuke. "You shall give Lord Yohn overall command of your host." He clenched his teeth at the lawful command. "You'll be under my direct command. It's time I taught you what Jon instructed in me."

He didn't know what to say. He should say something, but he felt like some mute. When he was a boy, that's all he wished to hear. All I wanted was to be fostered with fathers ward. After a slight pause, he mumbled, "And Princess Myrcella?" He said, not caring for the queen.

"I see little reason to involve Princess Myrcella in this. I'm sure she is an innocent girl."

Lord Stark told him he intended to set the Queen aside and to have a trial. He nodded along and gave his support, though it meant nothing. It would not be the time to speak out for his vision of a postwar world. To see that Prince Tommens reign lay secured. His influence lay in tatters and may never improve. Not while Lord Stark was regent. But Jasper would accept the choices he had made and their consequences. Actions have consequences and he had made his. And every choice had been for the good of House Arryn and the Vale.

Tommen

Tommen paced across the room bombarded by thoughts, each worse than the last. He was wearing out his boots, but he barely noticed.

Mother is imprisoned and there is nothing I can do.

Sons were supposed to defend their mothers. In the Vale he had learned that under Septon Layne and Maester Colemon. And in the courtyard under the tutelage under Ser Edmund Redfort and the Blackfish, they taught him to use a sword like Uncle Jaime. A heavy thing the thought of using it Tommen knew. In the courtyard it was fun swinging against his brothers and he was alright at it. But the thought of swinging it to hurt. To kill tied his stomach up in knots.

I'm failing her.

The thought overwhelmed him as he struggled to breathe. The red walls of the Red Keep swirled around him as eyes watched him with concern. Most of them human. I have to help her. I just have to. Mother needed him to be strong like Ser Arys or Lord Arryn, as strong as a knight. Princes had to choose Tommen recalled from his lessons with Lord Arryn, but he was frozen with indecision. "I don't know what to do Bran," He panted. "I don't know Bran. Gods, I don't know what to do."

"Slow down Tommen. Take a breath."

Bran offered an easy smile. It steadied him as Adrian's thick arms wrestled him into a chair. All of them were gathered in his old room in the Red Keep. Jon was writing a letter aloof to everything . Adrian and Bran stood above him, united in trying to calm him. Tommen yelped when Dawn jumped on top of him and licked him. It gave him a little courage being surrounded by his brothers not of blood, but choice.

"Listen to the wolf." Adrian said. "For once he's right."

"I'm always right." Bran grinned before crossing his arms. "What did Lord Arryn tell you?"

"I don't understand!" Tommen said, teary-eyed. "There must be some mistake. My mother couldn't have done this!"

Lord Arryn gazed at him sadly. "She is guilty, my prince. I'm sorry for the anguish this brings you." He wanted to believe it a lie, but Lord Arryn would not lie to him about this.

"Will they kill her?"

"If found guilty, yes," Lord Arryn sighed. "I know that is not what you wish to hear, but I won't soften the truth."

"Help me prevent her death." His voice was laced with the desperation he felt in his heart. "Help me save my mother, my lord." She loved him and Myrcella. He couldn't let them kill her. It was a mistake. Joffrey's exile must have caused a mother's madness. She always loved him the most, but it didn't matter. He was still her son. Lord Arryn didn't move. His face was stiff and aloof. "You promised me you would always help me!" He stood up. "I thought a man was only as good as his word?"

Lord Arryn sighed. "Aye, a man is only as good as his word." His hands squeezed his shoulder. "I'll always help you, my prince, but this time, not publicly. I've angered Lord Stark enough. I dare not push him any further. I need to fall in line for the good of your realm. For the war effort." It made his head hurt whenever he talked to Lord Arryn about political matters.

Tommen paused, his eyes widening. "Publicly? You'll help privately then."

Lord Arryn smiled. "Yes, I promised to provide you with honest counsel. Now and always."

"What must I do?"

"Only political pressure can save your mother. It'll come at a cost. These things always do. Will you accept them?"

Tommen hesitated before giving a tepid nod.

"Secure the support of the High Septon to plead for mercy. Pious lords and pious knights will take his wishes to heart. Lord Stark would be forced to heed to their wishes less an open schism form in his host." His eyes hardened. "but it'll come at a cost. He shall seek favors from you. He will not have your interests at heart." Tommen flinched at Lord Arryns harsh voice. It cracked like a whip. "He shall abuse you and seek to wrap his fingers around you. Are you wise enough to handle him? I can't come with you. I can't send anyone to come with you."

"I don't know." He answered him, on the verge of tears. His mother's life hung in the balance and he didn't know.

Tommen rubbed his temples, vexed, and gazed at his concerned friends. "He gave advice." Tommen sighed. "But I'm conflicted. It's confusing." He sighed. It was one like one of Moonboys japes he never understood. "I can't play this game. I'm not wise enough." He despaired. "And my mother is going to die for it."

"Of course you can, you pissy prince!" Adrian's voice boomed as he punched him on the shoulder. It would likely bruise. "Show some gull!" And Adrian was the oldest of them. A boy of thirteen namedays!

Bran looked affronted. "Your mother won't die!"

"She murdered my grand uncle Ser Kevan. It caused the death of so many. When they find her guilty, they'll have to."

"Your being stupid Tommen. Go to my father. Ask him for mercy." Bran said. "My father is a just man. I know he'll show it."

"Do you really think so?" Tommen asked, feeling a sense of hope for the first time. Lord Stark seemed more manageable than going before the High Septon.

Bran swore it.

Jon smacked the parchment into his chest. "Memorize this and say it before the court on the morrow." He smirked. "I've been working on it all day."

"Ha! It must be good then, Tommen." Bran boasted.

If Dawn wasn't on him, he would have hugged him for it, but Dawn was as heavy as a stone with terrible breath. Instead, he beamed a bright smile. Father, sending me to the Vale was the best thing he could have done. He strengthened with confidence. "Yes, I can do this. I'll take Ser Arys with me as well. It'll make me look more princely."

All of them agreed Ser Arys accompanying him would be wise. A man of the Kingsguard behind him would give his voice more weight.

The Iron Throne loomed before him, a monstrosity of melted swords from Aegon the Conqueror. Thousands had died to forge the throne. Even more had died to keep it. I'll have to do the same. He almost sighed. If only I could do so without so much death. Tommen had few memories of court mother always forbade him from attending. "It's unimportant for a spare to attend." Mother had said. Though Tommen suspected she didn't wish him to listen to Lord Jon Arryn. Hear his arguments and judgements. It might have embarrassed Joffrey for him to know things. But Joffrey hated court considering it boring.He enjoyed our torment. He would have tormented everyone. Tommen was happy he was dead. When the Old Falcon held his court, Arryn guardsman in their beautiful sky blue cloaks and men of the kingsguard dressed in snowy white stood before the Iron Throne, symbols of nobility and honor. It was a time of peace with the strength of his father's warhammer to keep it. Now, Stark guardsmen stood at the foot of the throne, looked fierce with their rugged faces and grey cloaks. Hard men without shiny suits of steel. Hard men for hard days. It gave him pause as he navigated amongst the lords and ladies of the realm. Among them, he saw familiar faces from his days in the Vale. Lord Yohn and his son Andar. Or Lyman Darry. This was his first time in the courtroom. House Darry had supported Prince Rhaegar on the Trident and did not travel often to his father's court. Everyone welcomed him and it made him feel a Crown Prince. Lady Anya Waynwood offered condolences about his mother. "Thank you, my lady." He replied. "It is kind of you to say." In the corner, Jasper Arryn gave him the tiniest nod of encouragement.

This is my throne. A grave responsibility larger than anything.

It was a cage as well, but it wouldn't be so bad with his friends by his side. It was a burden with their help he could bear. In the stories they sang of his fathers valor in Roberts Rebellion and ignored everyone else as if the clash of the Trident was the only reason he won. Yet that wasn't the truth. It was the friendship between Lord Stark and father that won the war. Together they defeated the dragons without him father would have failed. And Tommen felt that is where father erred. All of his friends left him. Lord Stark went home to Winterfell and left father alone. He wasted away without his friends. Tommen refused to make a similar mistake for as long as Bran, Adrian, Jon, Lord Arryn stood with him he could do it. I won't waste away! As High as Honor!

"Ser Andrew Estermont!" Father's herald proclaimed. Or the Lord Regents herald, Tommen thought. "Approach the throne." A murmur ran through the crowd. He had left with father on his crusade to the east.

"Lord Regent," He said dutifully. "I bear with me word of our good King Robert. He has agreed with your recommendations that Cersei Lannister stands trial for crimes against the realm. He requests that she be set aside as well." Ser Estermont raised a scroll of parchment. "It is all here."

Lord Stark nodded. "So be it. Robert has spoken and we shall obey. Send word to the High Septon the trial shall start on the morrow." No one spoke in protest. Mother had few friends left. Tommen scanned the room and saw little in the way of sympathy or disgust. It made his shoulders sag. Father had released his mother so easily from his protection. They had never been close, but I had hoped he'd care enough to protect his wife.

Court wound down as the herald declared. "Is there anyone else who seeks the justice of the Iron Throne?" Tommen adjusted his collar and approached the Iron Throne. Pushing through the crowd of nobility as they parted for him. Ser Arrys trailed behind him, towering over him. The herald's eyes widened. "Crown Prince Tommen of House Baratheon!"

Tommen offered him a small smile. "Thank you, ser, but I think we all know who I am." He gazed up and almost gulped. Lord Stark looked down at him with grey piercing eyes as harsh as the North. Brans' eyes never sent a chill down his spine like that. He almost lost his nerve. Lord Stark is my fathers closest friend. He loves him like I love Bran. He'll listen to me.

"Prince Tommen." Lord Stark's voice softened. "Why have you come?"

"I'm told, my lord, the voice of a prince holds weight in the matters of justice." Tommen had done as Jon said and rehearsed it a hundred times. "I wish to make my voice heard." He mustered every ounce of command in his voice.

All of his father's advisors stood around the Iron Throne. "I believe Prince Tommen speaks of his mother." Varys chimed. "The innocence of a sons love."

Lord Stark leaned forward. "Is that true Prince Tommen? Do you come to defend your mother? Do you think her innocent?"

"No, my lord." Tommen knew better. "You are an honorable man. I believe the charges laid before her. I only request that mercy be shown." He paused. "My mother is unwell. My brother's exile must have made her mad, otherwise she would not have done what she did."

"I don't fault you, my prince, for coming." He voiced with a quiet strength. "But your mother's crimes are extensive and she remains uncooperative. It would not be just to show leniency with so many dead."

Lord Nestor nodded his block like head in silent accord.

"And if she confesses, my lord?" Tommen asked. "If she admits her crimes before the sight of gods and men. Would you agree to show mercy?" They paused. Lord Stark rubbed his chin, pondering it. Tommens heart pounded in his chest. Please say yes, my lord. Please.

Grand Maester Pycelle croaked. "Such could help bring an end to this dreadful conflict. And wouldn't that be wiser? More prudent?"

The Grand Maesters words seem to have hit their mark. "If your mother confesses. I Eddard of House Stark Lord of Winterfell swear I shall show mercy, but she must confess or there is only one end." Death. Tommen thought, terrified.

"I understand." He swallowed. "I understand."

Jasper

"Oh, Arrow, I have so many doubts." His voice was small. More a youth than a lord. "I wish I didn't have them. The clever singers should name me the doubting falcon." He whispered as he stroked Arrow's mane. Every stroke released the weight on his chest. Arrow was the only one he could be completely honest with."Do you think father had them when he defied the Mad King?" It was among the proudest moment in the history of House Arryn. The histories were littered with Arryn deeds of valor and it filled him with great pride. As High as Honor. Once he thought he knew what those words meant. No, I've never known what they meant. Jasper tried to live up to them, but it seemed out of his grasp. Faker. You stupid faker. And he was stupid about many things, but he didn't understand what he was missing. All he wanted was to be a good Lord of the Eyrie. A good brother. A good son. A good husband. As High as Honor. But it was an impossible riddle to figure out with too many complexities that made his head hurt. Maybe Lord Stark knew what they meant? And he could finally understand them. He wasn't sure how he felt being taken under his direct command. It's what he wanted for many years, but the way it happened made him bitter.

Jasper sighed. "Everything I've done has always been for a good cause. To defend my ward. To protect my betrothed. To safeguard House Arryn." Yet, Lord Stark had called his actions dishonorable and shameful in the Tower of the Hand. He chastised him in the former office of his father wearing his pin. His icy words still burned. "Maybe he is right." Unlike him, Lord Stark learned from his father. A more worthy student to be taught. I shamed father from birth. I wasn't perfect. Why couldn't I be perfect? I want to be perfect. Bitterness swirled in his chest. I didn't ask things to be this way. "Yet, I think Arrow I would do everything precisely the same. My responsibilities end with my wards and the Vale." Be confident. Be decisive. The Lannisters and Tyrells courted their own damnation. I did nothing to encourage them. They chose this path, not me. Why couldn't Lord Stark see that? He was being unreasonable. And looked how much they gained from it? It would protect their families for a generation. It placed them where they deserved to be in the center of the realm. They would create a more noble realm and the Arryn name would soar to greater heights. Tommen shall make a noble king. Jasper had seen that in the throne room. It filled him with great pride watching him petition the Iron Throne with the grace of a prince. If only he could have made Lord Stark see the benefit of keeping a weakened Westerlands in the fold. But the Lannister crimes were catching up with them. He would be hard pressed to sway Lord Stark to stay his hand. I'll be hard pressed to change his mind on anything.

"Do you think me a villain, Arrow? Am I shaming House Arryn?" Jasper tasted the bile in the back of his throat. Even the mere thought of shaming House Arryn made him sick.

Arrow placed his head against his own. "Thank you, boy." He mumbled. "You're the best friend a lord could hope for." It was nonsense. He had done nothing wrong, and he refused to feel any guilt over it. I made the best choices I could. The world is imperfect and trying to keep one's hands completely clean was impossible.

For a long moment, he stroked his fur and enjoyed the quiet of the stables. It was one of the few places in Kings Landing he felt at peace. A sanctuary from everyone that vexed him with their constant conversations and judgements. It could be overwhelming, but he refused to complain. Lords don't complain. Lords had to be dutiful creatures. Bound by law and traditions to serve their lieges and subjects honorably. Jasper was lost deep in his thoughts when Arrow let out a loud whine.

Someone is approaching. Jasper knew. Arrow acted as he taught him to warn him when someone approached. It couldn't be any of the staff. He had cleared the stalls. "Who goes there!" He used his lord's voice. "Show yourself!"

A man giggled. A familiar sound as soft as silk that he couldn't quite place. His hand fell to his sword. "Come out of the shadows." He commanded.

The man complied. He wore silk robes and smelled of lavender. Jasper raised a brow. "Lord Varys?" Hand falling from his hilt. Why was the Master of Whispers in the stables with him? Jasper wasn't a member of King Roberts Small Council. It was peculiar. He had scarcely spoken a word to him in passing during the war councils. What could he possibly want with him? Lord Stark already knows my secrets.

"That is my name." Lord Varys smiled. "I have other names as well. I'm sure you've heard of them." His voice was sly, and it rankled him.

Jasper's eyes narrowed. He would not play this game. "Speak plainly, my lord. I'm not a creature of this city."

"Oh, of course not. You are the son of the late Lord Jon. It must seem dishonest to you."

A slight pause as Jasper studied the eunuch. Lord Varys reputation was not a good one. The man traded in secrets and called himself lord. It was unseemly. "Why are you here?"

"Because I'm afraid Lord Stark is not acting in the best interests of the realm. You are the last hope for little Prince Tommen and sweet Princess Myrcella."

He stiffened and raised his brow. Did he know of the divide that lay between them? "I have the fullest confidence in Lord Stark." He lied. "You should bring this to his attention. Not my own."

Lord Varys chuckled. "Oh, Lord Arryn, you are like your father. An honest man. You lie as well as I swing a sword." He darkened. "You don't like me. Nor trust my voice, but mayhaps you would trust the pen." Out of his long flowing robes, he took out three pieces of parchment. Jasper wanted to curse. He had his interests piqued. It's what he wants. But what choice did he have? If some harm stood against Prince Tommen…

"Very well, but I shall deliver this to Lord Stark."

"Oh, no doubt Lord Arryn."

He grazed his thumb over the first wax seal. A mockingbird of House Baelish and the second a golden rose of House Tyrell.

It was Lord Baelish's penmanship he recognized it, but the impossible words made him feel shame. Jasper couldn't finish the letter, so he read the Tyrell letter instead. It left his hands shaking with fury. Oh, Aunt Catelyn I should have believed you. The man was a worse monster than he imagined and he didn't see it. Blinded by a sense of loyalty. I should have thanked her. Not judged her for killing him. His shame turned to anger. "Why have you not told Lord Stark this? It changes everything!" He asked. "And how did you come by this?" Lord Baelish was many things, but sloppy was not one of them.

Lord Varys gazed with amusement. "Quite a little plot, isn't it?" He giggled. "Have the queen be so convinced she was responsible for the killing and yet she was but the pawn of an Old Rose and a Mockingbird."

"How did you come by this?" He repeated.

"One of my little birds slipped some milk of the poppy in the courtiers' drinks. Switched the letters out with forgeries. You never know when such evidence could prove useful."

Jasper found little glee in clever plots, and Varys was clever. The glint in his eyes was intelligent and the tale he told intrigued and disturbed him as Varys continued speaking. "Even Queen Cersei would think she killed Ser Kevan, and she did the deed in a manner of speaking, but they planned the plan in Highgarden. Queen Cersei was simply a pawn in this game."

"Do you know why?" Jasper asked.

"Oh, you know the answer, my lord." Varys sighed. "It was pragmatism and revenge formed into one. Revenge for the death of Ser Loras and knowing the bread crumbs would lead to Cersei Lannister. Removing the last remnants of Lannister influence from the capital. Bread crumbs Lord Baelish would leave behind." Jasper saw the cunning. A clean little plan. "Unfortunately, the plan went awry. You lived. Lancel Lannister rallied the Red cloaks in a suicidal attack that maimed the Rose of Highgarden. They didn't think the Lannisters would be so reckless to engage in a direct attack. And Lord Baelish suffered a tragic end with Lady Catelyn." Lord Varys snickered. "An amusing end for such a clever man. Unexpected and sudden."

"Lord Baelish was the one who benefited from my death." Jasper said. "It's what he got from this arrangement, isn't? It would have destabilized the Vale. Then he was also behind Ser Hughs attempt to kill me during the melee, wasn't he?" Everything fit together. A puzzle he didn't even realize needed to be solved. The entire web seemed to lead right back towards Lord Baelish. All of his mistakes, his manipulations. It made him feel a fool for not seeing it. If he was so brazen to attempt to kill me twice, did he kill my father? Were my mother's mad ramblings true? Jasper wasn't certain he wished to know.

Lord Varys clapped. "Well done, Lord Arryn. Well done. You pieced it together quickly enough."

"Did Lord Baelish kill my father?" Honor commanded him to ask, and he complied.

"I wondered if you would ask that." Lord Varys shrugged. "I don't know, my lord. It's possible, but I hold no evidence either way."

Jasper nodded. "I still don't understand why you're telling me this and not Lord Stark."

"Have I not told him, my lord?" Varys said and handed him the last letter. The wax seal of a direwolf said otherwise. In a night of revelations, this surprised him the most. Jasper read the missive. A command to see such evidence destroyed. It could be Lord Starks hand, though he wasn't too familiar with his handwriting and it was certainly his seal. But it was so unlike the man. Jasper struggled to see him issuing such an order and Varys, by his own lip, had forged other letters. It was not beyond his capabilities. The man balanced truth and lies well into a narrative. A believable story. He knows of my bitterness to Lord Stark and could try to take advantage of it.

"You must wonder why. Why did Lord Stark do this?" Varys let out a small gasp. "I hope you don't think me little Varys lying? I assure you I'm telling the truth. But I suppose you lords don't listen well to the words of a spider."

Jasper crossed his arms, unconvinced.

Lord Vary sighed. "Lord Stark is stuck in the past. The brutal sacking of Kings Landing by Lord Tywin, Ser Jaime stabbing his king in the back and the terrible murder of Little Aegon and Rhaenys. These thoughts weigh heavily on his mind. He sees House Lannister as the ultimate enemy. Now as Regent he can finally see them face justice." The spymaster swirled around him. "But you and I both know the alliance between Highgarden and Storms End is far more deadly and to weaken the Westerlands leaves Prince Tommen more vulnerable."

He said nothing and gave a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Lord Arryn?"

"Dismissed. " He said as if he were a lowly servant. "Surrender the evidence to myself. I shall decide what to do with it. Your words are sweet. Too sweet."

Lord Varys bowed. "Do as you wish, my lord."

"Even going to Lord Stark with what you told me?"

Jasper studied him, but Lord Varys gave nothing away. His eyes, a blank enigma. "I think we both know you won't. It isn't in the best interest of Prince Tommen."

His civility thinned, and his voice cracked like a whip. "You presume too much. Now leave me." Before his voice lowered and finished with courtesy "Have a good night and a fair walk back to your quarters."

Jasper rubbed his temples when Lord Varys left. What was a truth? What was a lie? The man told lies for a living and spun stories like a master spinster. But there was certainly truth in his words. Jasper simply struggled to see the full picture. The involvement of the Tyrells and Lord Baelish, he was certain. His handwriting was genuine and no fake. They had motive and means to do it. Jasper was thankful for the evidence it gave him leverage to dirty them and see House Tyrell punished should it prove useful. What if lords blamed House Arryn as well and besmirched their honor? It was his father that secured the appointment of Lord Baelish and he had supported him fiercely. People could believe that. I won't have the Arryn name dragged in the filth. And did Lord Stark know? Doubt swirled around him. I don't trust him. Our interests are not aligned. The feeling of betrayal lay heavily on his mind. But was he capable of this? He despised the Lannisters and everything they stood for. However, Lord Stark was an honorable man and a better Arryn than himself. A sense of nobility that made him wish to weep motivated every action he took. Father must have been like him! Maybe it was just a façade? A trick just like Harry, mother, father. All of them played tricks on him. Lord Baelish had played him false. Mayhaps Lord Stark had done so as well? If it is true, he's a hypocrite, a liar, and unworthy of the office of his father. Their duty was to defend the Crown, not punish crimes of the past, no matter how distasteful. How dare he lecture me about Arryn honor when he engages in such deception! How dare he stand where my father stood? Jasper thought bitterly of the words exchanged in the Tower of the Hand. Maybe he should make the letter public? Let the Lords of court to decide for themselves. Inevitably, he could see House Arryn benefited from the truth. How high could we soar…

You can't do that! The man is your uncle. A ward of father! A voice reminded him.

Jasper sighed and shook his head. I won't dishonor him as he did me. The laws that governed the behavior of lords was clear.

And if Lord Stark was unaware, he should tell him, and they could coordinate a response. Honor demanded it. Was that not a reason for the divide that had grown between them? The lies of honor he told.

He'll ignore you as he's done before. A dark voice sang in his ear. He's stuck in the past. Your voice isn't enough.

And Jasper feared that.

But he wouldn't decide tonight. It was a mountain of worries and concerns he couldn't sort through in one night.

He fed Arrow a carrot. "Don't worry, boy. I'm a slow learner, but I'll be patient this time." He let out a nervous chuckle. "I'll keep this close to my chest." He would ask his grand uncle for his advice and would wait. I promised Myrcella I would keep a cool head. And he had to keep his word. Eventually he left the stables and the Tower of the Hand loomed in the distance. An unworthy thought crossed his mind, and he wrestled with it even as he went to bed. Jasper was thankful for the nightmare of screams that followed. It gave him relief from his worst impulses.

Authors note: That was a long chapter! I made up for the short one! So in this chapter we saw the plot twist. It wasn't simply Cersei who ordered the hit, but she was merely the scapegoat behind the operation. Pretty much the plan was Ser Kevan/ Jasper Arryn would be dead. It would point to Cersei. They would use Ned to take her down. Maybe even Tywin. Marg could become queen theoritcally. And if not the last elements of the Lannisters would be pushed from the city. But the plan backfired when Lancel/Cersei went crazy and outright attacked the Tyrells in the city. Risking war with pretty much every kingdom save Dorne+Iron Islands.

It's funny though, Tommen did a Sansa Stark in this chapter, and in the next chapter Cersei might be doing a Ned at the Sept of Baelor! The Lannisters are becoming the Starks of cannon. Lucky for Cersei Ned isn't Joffrey though!

Next chapter we shall see Brienne on her quest to rescue Renly, Tommen shall make his pleas to Cersei, and the fate of the former Queen is had at the Sept of Baelor!

As always it's nice to see reviews! Love reading them. Actually, I have a bit of a conflict with how I want a character to react to events. If anyone would be willing to PM just to shoot off some questions/ideas off I would appreciate it! If not thats okay! I'm sure I'll figure it out!

ATP: Thank you! Yeah, not wise for Renly to do that!

Freedmoon: Always nice seeing your reviews! Renly is more useful as a hostage. Though as you see here Tywin petty the petty spiteful guy he is. Is allowing poor treatment for Renly. But yeah, killing him is going a step too far. Pretty much, tywins defense for his treatment will be they were traveling quickly and Tywin didn't order anything. All the captives at the Rock are getting good treatment.I know I'm one of like the only OC Arryn guys out there! Hopefully you enjoyed this chapter too!