"Me?!" Sansa snapped, her voice shaking still from what she'd seen. "It was your fault! You were the one who attacked my sweet Prince like a barbarian! All of this is your fault!"
"Sweet Prince?! That little monster?! He killed Mycah! He lied and got Lady killed! You were there! You saw it!" Arya jumped out of her seat and pointed an accusing finger at Sansa. "You saw everything and refused to tell the truth! If you did they wouldn't have killed Mycah or Lady!"
"Arya!" their mother warned and Arya swung around to face her mother.
"What? Still, see me as the one wrong here?! How?! I was playing! Joffrey came in and ruined everything! And she stood and watched and like a coward said she saw nothing!"
"Your sister is going to marry the Prince-"
"SO?! WHY WOULD THAT STOP HER FROM TELLING THE TRUTH?!" Arya roared. "SHE CAN MARRY WHOEVER SHE LIKES! WHY DID SHE HAVE TO LIE AND GET MY FRIEND KILLED?!"
"If you'd only made proper friends none of this would have happened" Sansa muttered, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her dress.
"Yes because they would be my friends instead of yours" Arya whirled to face her sister. "Every friend I tried to make in Winterfell became your friend and they forgot me! Perfect Sansa with her perfect stitches and perfect manners. Who would want to be friends with little Arya Horseface?!" she spat, eyes watering and teeth grit. "Nobody cares what I want to do! It's always 'Be like Sansa', 'Why can't you do it like your sister?', 'No, you can't do this because it's not ladylike. Look at your sister!'. You Septa Mordane, Mother, everyone wants me to be like you! Well, I tried and I can't! I can't be like perfect little Sansa. I can't be the perfect little lady who can do perfect stitches and have the perfect manners! All I want to be is Arya and nobody lets me be Arya!"
"Arya, child…" her mother whispered.
"And then the one time I do end up making a friend, it gets him killed! Because my sister would rather deny everything and support me when I'm right!"
Arya turned on her heels and ran for the doors, only to bump into someone. She looked up and found Jon staring down at her with a frown.
"What's wrong?" Jon asked.
Arya broke down sobbing.
Jon quickly scooped her up in his arms and looked around the room in question. Sansa was standing. So there was an argument.
"Do you need to go to the chambers and have a moment to yourself?" Jon whispered.
Arya shook her head, clinging to him tighter.
Jon nodded and walked to his seat. He sat down with Arya still clinging to him. Robb reached around Daenerys and ruffled Arya's hair.
Sansa watched Arya with a stubborn frown, her words still ringing in her ear. She looked around when she felt a hand on her head. It was her father.
"I know why you held back or will hold back," Ned said kindly. "But the things Arya said were… are they all true?"
Sansa frowned and lowered her gaze, both in thought and out of guilt. She remembered someone making the name 'Arya Horseface', either Jeyne or someone else she wasn't certain. She had used the name many times and often laughed when the name was brought up. More often than not Arya was there to hear them laugh.
Sansa's silence made Ned sigh.
"When we return, we will have a word about how you sisters treat each other" Ned said sternly, "and also about what we expect from our daughters" this one he said to Catelyn.
"She's a Lady Ned-"
"A Lady of the North as well" Ned cut her off smoothly. "Sansa might have taken to the Southern ways like you, but that doesn't mean Arya had either. If the ways of the South do not suit Arya, then she will not be a Southern Lady."
"My Lord, if she doesn't learn she will never find herself a good husband" Catelyn argued gently once Ned had taken his seat.
"Lyanna over there was no Southern Lady and she had Robert Baratheon wanting to marry her and Rhaegar Targaryen who did marry her. Arya will find her own way in this world and we will help her find it. Am I understood?"
The sternness in Ned's voice had Catelyn pulling back. That was the voice of the Lord of Winterfell, not her loving husband, that spoke. It was not because Catelyn agreed with the man that she held her tongue back. Otherwise, she would have mentioned that his sister had eloped in the end.
The dim wall lit up again slowly and all hushed whispers slowly died.
[The King, Eddard and the rest of the posse have arrived at King's Landing.]
"Welcome, Lord Stark. The Grand Maester has called a meeting of the Small Council. The honour of your presence is requested."
"I was not aware that the Grand Maester could call a council meeting" Rhaegar commented with a frown.
"He can't. But I am assuming that Robert left the Small Council in charge of matters while he was away. And since I had died, the interim powers of the Hand fell on the Council. In that capacity, he might call on a meeting" Jon Arryn explained.
Rhaegar nodded, happy with the explanation.
"Get the girls settled in. I'll be back in time for supper. And, Jory, you go with them."
"Yes, my Lord."
"Jory? As in little Jory?" Lyanna asked in excitement. "He's grown so much!"
"Aye, He's the captain of the Winterfell Household Guards," Ned said with a smile. "He's stood up and distinguished himself after the death of Martyn."
"Martyn's dead?" Brandon asked. The man was older than Brandon by four years, but they were still friends.
"Died in the Rebellion" Ned smiled sadly. Martyn had been with him at the Tower of Joy, and that was where he was buried.
"If you'd like to change into something more appropriate…"
"What did he expect Lord Stark to change into?" Renly laughed.
"Cleaner clothes probably. The man's not used to seeing such dull colours" Robert snorted.
[Ned Stark gives the guard a blank stare while taking off his gloves]
"Oh I hate that look" Lyanna muttered.
"Me too. It's like you just said something stupid and he's judging you extremely hard for it" Brandon added with a sigh.
"Maybe because you do say and do a lot of stupid things that you get this look" Ned cut in with a roll of his eyes.
[The guard realizes Ned's disinterest and the two begin walking to the council chamber. First, they walk through the Great Hall, where the throne sits. Jaime Lannister is lingering in front of the throne.]
"Thank the gods you're here, Stark. About time we had some stern northern leadership."
"Stop trying to antagonize him" Joanna hissed at her son.
"I'm not, I think. Ned Stark's brand of leadership is very necessary to reign in the chaos of the capital" Jaime whispered back. "Should have named him Master of Laws instead of Renly."
"The North is a harsh place, mother. They take their responsibilities very seriously" Tyrion added seeing the look on his mother's face.
"Glad to see you're protecting the throne."
"Sturdy old thing. How many kings' asses have polished it, I wonder?"
"Eighteen Kings from Aegon I to Robert I," said Oberyn Martell with a smile, "I thought your father would have made sure you were educated well in these things."
Jaime said nothing, only smiled a tight smile.
"What's the line? The King shits and the Hand wipes."
"You are antagonizing him again" Joanna looked at her son sternly.
"I'll be sure not to do that this time around" Jaime sighed.
"Very handsome armour. Not a scratch on it."
"I know. People have been swinging at me for years, but they always seem to miss."
"You've chosen your opponents wisely then."
"Isn't that the point of lessening casualties? You always go for the man who you know you can win against instead of the man who can prove to be an issue. There isn't anything bad about it" Theon spoke, looking at Lord Stark curiously.
The Lord of Winterfell nodded stiffly, while Jaime Lannister just smirked triumphantly.
"I have a knack for it. It must be strange for you to come into this room. I was standing right here when it happened. He was very brave, your brother. Your father too. They didn't deserve to die like that. Nobody deserves to die like that."
Jaime closed his eyes and sighed. Sometimes he could still hear them, the screaming and the begging. When he reopened his eyes he saw the Starks in question staring at him. Not in the same manner as Ned Stark did, he noted.
"But you just stood there and watched."
"That is a little unfair Ned" Lyanna whispered to her brother, so only he could hear her. "Even if he wanted to help, he was one knight against many more no doubt. What could he have done if say Ser Barristan had come against him? Or even Prince Lewyn Martell? Or Ser Jonothor Darry? He's skilled but against three he wouldn't stand much of a chance."
Ned remained silent, his jaw shut firmly. Lyanna just sighed.
"500 men just stood there and watched. All the great knights of the Seven Kingdoms. You think anyone said a word or lifted a finger? No, Lord Stark. 500 men and this room was silent as a crypt. Except for the screams, of course, and the Mad King laughing."
Brandon shut his eyes and shuddered. The screams of his father came roaring back into his mind as the recollection had triggered it. He was helpless to save him, a noose around his neck and the sword mere inches from him. Whether a blessing or not, he had died first, and the screams of his father were the last thing he heard.
He opened his eyes when he felt a large hand on his knee. It was his father, stern and silent. But his father's hand held his knee firmly, comfortingly. Brandon placed his hand over his father's and gave it a firm squeeze.
"And later... When I watched the Mad King die, I remembered him laughing as your father burned... It felt like justice."
"Is that what you tell yourself at night? You're a servant of justice? That you were avenging my father when you shoved your sword in Aerys Targaryen's back?"
Nobody cared about the Mad King dying, not even Rhaegar who watched in silence. Only Daenerys seemed to react though, flinching when she heard about her father's death. Or perhaps the flinching was a late reaction to learning what her father did, a little late on getting over the shock and disgust.
"Tell me... If I'd stabbed the Mad King in the belly instead of the back, would you admire me more?"
"You served him well, when serving was safe."
"Didn't Ser Barristan do the same?" Margaerys commented, an innocent comment not meant to cut open any wounds. "By your logic, Lord Stark, Ser Barristan should have taken the Black or killed himself after the death of King Aerys. Yet he serves Robert Baratheon. He served the next Kinng when it was obvious that serving him would save his life."
"Ser Barristan swore himself to Robert because Robert had won him over in battle" Ned pointed out roughly, but not unkindly. "He did not stab his King in the back."
"The same could be said for Ser Jaime too, that he had been won over by the cause of the Rebellion and he killed the King in the moment he turned cloak and decided that he would rather serve King Robert."
"It's not the same girl" Robert spoke this time, "he was sworn to protect the King and kill the King's enemies or die trying, not kill him when his back was turned."
"Same as Ser Barristan killing you or dying in the process?" Margaery asked.
"Enough of this! Continue watching for gods' sake" Olenna snapped, breaking the argument before it could build further.
[Scene changes to Ned entering the small council's chamber where the others are already awaiting him.]
"Lord Stark."
"Lord Varys."
"I was grievously sorry to hear of your troubles on the Kingsroad. We are all praying for Prince Joffrey's full recovery."
"A shame you didn't say a prayer for the butcher's son."
"Neither had the rest of the Council, I can assure you of that Lord Stark" Varys said with a small smile.
"He isn't wrong" Renly added his support. The man did not exclude himself from this, something Ned noted.
"Renly! You're looking well."
"And you look tired from the road. I told them this meeting could wait another day, but..."
"But we have a Kingdom to look after. I've hoped to meet you for some time, Lord Stark. No doubt Lady Catelyn has mentioned me."
"She has, Lord Baelish. I understand you knew my brother Brandon as well."
"He did?" Brandon raised a brow.
"All too well. I still carry a token of his esteem from navel to collarbone."
"Oh, him" the man snorted. He'd forgotten about that.
"Perhaps you chose the wrong man to duel with."
"It wasn't the man that I chose, my Lord. It was Catelyn Tully. A woman worth fighting for, I'm sure you'll agree."
"She still fancies your wife" Lyanna whispered and Ned nodded his head.
The wife in question was smiling at the pictures. It was good to see her friend do well in life.
"I humbly beg your pardon, my Lord Stark."
"Grand Maester."
"Oh, he is still there," Rhaegar said with a frown.
"Any problems with the man?" Renly raised a brow.
"Yes. A Grand Maester is supposed to be unbiased and help his King with his necessities. Pycelle there preferred and was biased towards Lord Tywin more than appropriate."
"That hasn't changed" Stannis grunted. The man was biased towards the Lannister agenda still now.
Rhaegar's frown deepened.
"How many years has it been? You were a young man."
"And you served another King."
"You will find that Maesters are like that, Lord Stark. They serve the position rather than the man who holds it" Tyrion pointed out with a smile.
Ned ignored him.
"How forgetful of me. This belongs to you, now."
[He hands the badge of the Hand to Ned.]
"Should we begin?"
"Without the King?"
"Winter may be coming, but I'm afraid the same cannot be said for my brother."
"His Grace has many cares. He entrusts some small matters to us that we might lighten the load."
"We are the lords of small matters here."
"How often do you attend the meetings?" Ned looked at his friend.
"When I need to" Robert shrugged. Which was another way of saying he did not attend. It made Ned frown.
"My brother instructs us to stage a tournament in honour of Lord Stark's appointment as Hand of the King."
"Mmm, how much?"
"40,000 gold dragons to the champion, 20,000 to the runner-up, 20,000 to the winning archer."
"Can the treasury bear such expense?"
"Why can't it? 80,000 is nothing with the kind of gold we had" Rhaegar frowned. He had missed the wince from Jon Arryn.
"I'll have to borrow it. The Lannisters will accommodate, I expect. We already owe Lord Tywin 3 million gold. What's another 80,000?"
"Are you telling me the Crown is three million in debt?"
"Impossible!" Rhaegar stood, accusing eyes on Robert. "You should have ten times that amount! How are you in debt?!"
Robert had nothing to say to that.
"I'm telling you the Crown is six million in debt."
Rhaegar's eyes nearly popped out from the looks of him.
"Lord Arryn… what the fuck?" Rhaegar almost whined.
Jon Arryn threw Rhaegar an apologetic look and the man fell on his ass. All that gold… how the fuck had Robert managed to spend it all?!
"How could you let this happen?"
"The Master of Coin finds the money. The King and the Hand spend it."
"And the Master of Coin is there to advise against it" Rhaegar growled. "He is not just there to count coins and find people to borrow from! Who put him there?!"
"Petyr has proven to be quite a handy Master of Coin. He has, in his tenure, doubled the crown's profits and found more avenues to add to the royal treasury" Jon Arryn defended his choice of Master.
"And yet the Crown is in debt! He is supposed to advise you and the King to not spend as you wish! The Master of Coin is not just a coin counter and a profit maker, he's also there to make sure the treasury does not take a large hit!" Rhaegar fumed.
Jon Arryn frowned in silence.
"I will not believe Jon Arryn allowed Robert to bankrupt the realm."
"Lord Arryn gave wise and prudent advice, but I fear His Grace doesn't always listen."
" "Counting coppers," he calls it."
"Counting coppers!"
"Rhaegar please calm down" Elia whispered to her fuming husband.
"I'll speak to him tomorrow. This tournament is an extravagance we cannot afford."
"As you will. But still, we'd best make our plans."
"There will be no plans until I speak to Robert."
"Sadly you are fighting a losing cause here, Lord Stark. My brother is not someone you can convince to do things he does not like" Renly smiled at the man.
Ned stared at Renly and then gave Robert 'that' look. The King shifted in discomfort.
[Scene changes to Cersei tending to Joffrey's "wound".]
"Please, it's nearly healed."
"It's ugly."
"What is he, a southern girl?" Yara snorted.
"A King should have scars, you fought off a direwolf. You're a warrior like your father."
Multiple people snorted in unison.
"I'm not like him. I didn't fight off anything. It bit me and all I did was scream. And the two Stark girls saw it, both of them."
"That's not true. You killed the beast. You only spared the girl because of the love your father bears her father. When Aerys Targaryen sat on the Iron Throne, your father was a rebel and a traitor. Someday you'll sit on the throne and the truth will be what you make it."
"That woman is giving the idiot dangerous teachings" Olenna muttered.
"Is she the one responsible for teaching Joffrey about his Kingly duties?" Joanna whispered to Jaim, who nodded.
"She does not allow anyone else to teach him anything."
"Stupid girl" the mother hissed in distaste.
"Do I have to marry her?"
Sansa flinched. The Prince no longer wanted to marry… all cause her stupid horse-faced sister was a wild animal! She did not say that out loud, knowing full well her father would be majorly displeased.
"Yes. She's very beautiful and young. If you don't like her, you only need to see her on formal occasions and when the time comes, to make little princes and princesses. And if you'd rather fuck painted whores, you'll fuck painted whores. And if you'd rather lie with noble virgins, so be it. You are my darling boy and the world will be exactly as you want it to be."
"She's creating a spoiled monster" Elia stated in shock. How could a Queen prepare a Prince and heir like this? What was she thinking?!
"She's already done it," Tyrion said darkly.
"Do something nice for the Stark girl."
"I don't want to."
"No, but you will. The occasional kindness will spare you all sorts of trouble down the road."
"We allow the northerners too much power. They consider themselves our equals."
"I'm not sure it's the Northerners who think they are better than the rest" Lyanna scoffed, sharp eyes piercing through Cersei. She did not like the vile woman.
"How would you handle them?"
"I'd double their taxes and command them to supply 10,000 men to the royal army."
"A royal army?"
"Why should every lord command his own men? It's primitive, no better than the hill tribes. We should have a standing army of men loyal to the Crown, trained by experienced soldiers... Instead of a mob of peasants who've never held pikes in their lives."
"That boy is going to cause a civil war when he takes the throne" Renly grunted in distaste. This nephew of his was always his least favourite, and now he had more reasons to despise the little monster.
"And if the northerners rebel?"
"I'd crush them. Seize Winterfell and install someone loyal to the realm as Warden of the North. Uncle Kevan, maybe."
"Good luck with that" Robb scoffed. There was a reason the Andals couldn't conquer the North. The enemy would choke at The Neck before they could even reach Winterfell.
"And these 10,000 northern troops, would they fight for you or their lord?"
"For me. I'm their King."
"But you've just invaded their homeland, and asked them to kill their brothers."
"I'm not asking."
"Very Aerys of him to do so," Oberyn said out loud for Robert to hear. The man turned and glared at him. Oberyn simply smiled.
"The North cannot be held... not by an outsider. It's too big and too wild. When the winter comes, the Seven gods together couldn't save you and your royal army. A good King knows when to save his strength... And when to destroy his enemies."
"So you agree... The Starks are enemies?"
"Everyone who isn't us is an enemy."
The wall turned dark and Olenna Tyrell stood, using the cane that had magically appeared to do so.
"I'm going to sleep, my mind's a much with so many things being shown to me all a once."
And with that, she walked away.
"I believe a little res might us all some good" Jon Arryn stood next.
The rest murmured their consent and slowly one after the other left the room and entered the corridor, each choosing a door and walking through it.