It was an odd place that the group had opened their eyes to. For one the viewing hall was similar to the Hall of Hearths in Harrenhall, able to house thousands and consisting of a hundred hearths that did not burn. The wall of looked like it was made of Dragon glass, but nobody was certain since they did not inspect the thing closely. But it looked smooth and should anyone touch it they'd either feel cold or get a zap as if lightning lived inside the wall. Tables were arranged against the walls to one side, each one large enough to hold a month's worth of food from the looks of it. Food of that amount had appeared the one time they ate there, but mostly the tables remained empty.
Then there was the door, the only door in the entire hall. It was a single door made from wood and iron. There was nothing special about the door, no motifs or carvings on the things. Such doors one would find in the parts of the castle where the servants lived, plain wood and metal with a ring for the door handle. The corridor it led to was just simple, walls and floors made from the same polished black stone as the viewing hall was. Doors were lining up each side of the corridor, and nothing special about each door. It was not similar to the door that led into the corridor, these were made mostly of wood and carved finely like the doors used for the bed chambers of Lords and the like.
But it was what these doors led to that made them special.
Depending on who needed the chambers, the chambers behind the door would change, but only once. Like when Ned needed a place to calm Rhaegar down, the chamber had taken on the arrangement and the decorations of Rhaegar's chambers at Dragonstone. Only two doors led to a smaller corridor, while the rest led to either two more doors or a single chamber. In the case of Houses Stark and Baratheon, their chosen doors led to a smaller corridor. For the Starks, the corridor was made similar to those in Winterfell and held nine doors for ten members, each door made from the same material as the ones in Winterfell. For the Baratheons the corridor was constructed similarly to the ones in Storm's End and contained six doors, each one made similar to the ones in Storm's End. Each room in that corridor led to a chamber, and each chamber arranged itself similarly to the chambers of the occupants of Winterfell and Strom's End respectively.
In this manner, House Lannister's door leads to three more doors, House Tyrell's, House Greyjoy's and House Martell's leads to two. House Arryn had the one chamber, as did Varys and Gendry. Only Daenerys' chambers were different from the rest. It had a red door and when she went inside the scent of lemons welcomed her with a warm hug.
Of course, nobody actually knew this. They were ignorant of the greater magic at work in the place they were in, and none of them really cared enough to find out. They had their own things to worry about.
Like Ned and Catelyn were discussing right now.
"What Arya said during her little breakdown was…troubling Ned stated calmly, putting his pants back on.
"She is young Ned. In time she will understand everything and be the proper Lady she needs to be" Catelyn soothed her husband, covering her nude form. The stress of the events had led to a very… heated encounter. Catelyn could still feel the warmth of his seeds inside her. Could she get pregnant in this place? If so, she hoped she could give her Lord Husband another son.
"No, Catelyn, we are going about this in the wrong way" Ned shook his head. "Arya is not Sansa, she has more of the North in her than the South. Perhaps her education could take on a different form."
"What do you suggest, my Lord? We teach her how to wield a sword? How to fight? That is not what women do, Ned."
"Just because she can possibly learn how to wield a weapon, does not mean she can't learn the duties a Lady has. Perhaps we ignore the things she's bad at, like the stitches. She would still need to learn how to manage a household. She feels pressured into believing that she must be like Sansa, we just need to show her that she doesn't need to be like Sansa, that we expect her to be her and nobody else."
Catelyn tried her best to smile because that was something she did not agree with. A woman shouldn't learn how to fight, that was what her husband, the men at arms and her possible sons were for. All a woman needed to do was look pretty, pop out children for her husband, manage the Household and raise the children. Anything else was entirely unnecessary.
"And we need to speak with the Septa about her biases. We need someone who can teach our daughters with equal attention."
"Ned, Septa Mordane has been around since Sansa was a child."
"Then she should know what we expect of her," Ned said with a sigh. "If she can't keep her biases in check, perhaps we should look for someone else."
This time Catelyn did allow the frown to show.
**The Tyrells**
"The Prince is… troubling to say the least" Margaery stoked the fire in the fireplace, her face pensive.
"Do you think the betrothal will stand?" her grandmother asked.
"No. Cersei will do something, I can feel it" The girl looked away from the flames to her Grandmother.
"And when she does we'll be ready" Olenna Tyrell smirked. "Worry not my girl, the Prince won't be an issue by the time our turn comes around."
The girl hummed softly. "The Starks interest me."
"Which one?"
"Lord Stark."
"He might be too old for you, Margaery."
"That is not what I meant Grandmother" the girl playfully glared. "He seems like a disciplined and a man of principles."
"He is. Has been for a while now. People will tell you he gets it from Jon Arryn, but his father is no different" Olenna barked.
"Isn't it curious that a man like him has a bastard?"
"Men are creatures of their cocks. If they feel it harden they will put it in the closest moving thing" Olenna stated. But she had a smirk on her lips.
**The Martells**
"The Daynes were not wrong in their assessment of Lord Stark" Oberyn mused, swirling his cup of wine, "the man is a man of principle and honour, and he has a deep-rooted dislike for the Lannisters. Something close enough to becoming hatred."
"You suggest we ally ourselves with them, brother?" Doran suggested, staring intently into his cup of wine. "Perhaps a betrothal, Arianne with the heir of Winterfell?"
"Or perhaps Arianne and someone better amongst them."
The brothers shared a smile.
"We'll probably find more allies by the time all of this is done" Doran added.
"We won't mind that would we."
"Certainly not."
The following morning, or what they assumed was morning, the group gathered back in the viewing hall to find the tables filled with breakfast items. They all dug in without an invite or question, made small talk and retook their seats.
The dragon glass wall lit up with a gentle glow once more.
[Arya is unsheathing Needle privately in her room as Ned knocks on the door.]
"Where did you get that?" Catelyn questioned sharply.
"How would I know? That hasn't happened yet" Arya rolled her eyes and looked away from her mother.
"Perhaps it was a going away gift" Robb suggested.
Catelyn frowned at her son. Robb wouldn't have given her that, she taught him better. Ned wouldn't either. That left only one person.
Catelyn glared at Jon, who pointedly avoided meeting her eyes.
"Go away!"
"Arya, open the door. May I come in?"
[Ned walks in.]
"Whose sword is that?"
"Mine."
"Give it to me."
[Arya hands the sword over with a frown.]
"I know this maker's mark. This is Mikken's work. Where did you get this? This is no toy. Little ladies shouldn't play with swords.]
"I wasn't playing. And I don't want to be a lady."
"Come here."
[They both sit on the bed.]
"Now what do you want with this?"
"It's called Needle."
"A sword with a name," Brandon said with amusement in her eyes. It suited the thing. That blade couldn't hack or slash anything or anyone. It would be only good to poke and prod.
"A blade with a name. And who were you hoping to skewer with Needle? Your sister? Do you know the first thing about sword fighting?"
"Stick 'em with the pointy end."
A round of chuckles ran through the room.
"She isn't wrong," Oberyn said in amusement.
[Ned laughs]
"That's the essence of it."
"I was trying to learn. I asked Mycah to practice with me. I asked him. It was my fault."
The mood in the room instantly dropped.
"It's not your fault" Jon whispered to his sister with some force.
Arya smiled at him and hugged his side.
No, sweet girl. You didn't kill the butcher's boy."
"I hate them! I hate all of them. The Hound, the Queen and the King and Joffrey and Sansa."
"You should keep your voice down, girl. You never know who is listening" Olenna warned, her eyes pinned on a smiling Varys.
A shiver ran down Varys' spine.
"Sansa was dragged before the King and Queen... And asked to call the Prince a liar."
"So was I! He is a liar."
"Darling, listen to me. Sansa will be married to Joffrey someday. She cannot betray him. She must take his side even when he's wrong."
"It's still unfair" Arya mumbled. But from the look on her face, she understood what her father wanted to say. Ned smiled at that.
"But how you can let her marry someone like that?"
The smile fell from his lips. Could he allow that to be now that he knows what kind of a creature Joffrey is? He looked at Robert, who was looking at him. Ned shook her head and Robert nodded, a little dejected but still nodded.
"Well… Look at me. You're a Stark of Winterfell. You know our words."
"Winter is coming."
"You were born in the long summer. You've never known anything else. But now winter is truly coming."
"Our children might see a winter not even we are prepared for" Lyanna whispered to her brother.
Ned sighed at the reminder.
"And in the winter, we must protect ourselves, and look after one another. Sansa is your sister."
"I don't hate her. Not really."
Sansa smiled a little at her little sister's confession. She didn't hate Arya either. Sure she was annoying, wild and nothing like her, but she did not hate her for it.
"I don't want to frighten you, but I won't lie to you either. We've come to a dangerous place. We cannot fight a war amongst ourselves. All right? Go on. It's yours."
"Ned…"
"She will need it."
"When? She is protected by our men all the time."
Husband and wife stared at one another, neither backing down from their stance. Eventually, they both looked away.
"I can keep it?"
"Try not to stab your sister with it. If you're going to own a sword, you'd better know how to use it."
[Scene changes to Bran's bedside in Winterfell. A crow lands on his windowsill.]
Bran frowned, tears in his eyes. He looked horrible on the wall. The covers stuck to his legs and gave a good outline of them, twisted and mangled. He could never walk again…
Bran heard a sob and felt his mother hug him tightly and his father ruffling his hair. He hugged his mother back.
"Don't listen to it. Crows are all liars. I know a story about a crow."
Yara grunted in agreement, thinking about a certain Crow's Eye.
"I hate your stories."
"I know a story about a boy who hated stories. I could tell you about Ser Duncan the Tall. Those were always your favourites."
"Those weren't my favourites. My favourites were the scary ones."
"Oh, my sweet summer child. What do you know about fear? Fear is for the winter when the snows fall a hundred feet deep. Fear is for the long night when the sun hides for years and children are born and live and die all in darkness. That is the time for fear, my little Lord when the White Walkers move through the woods. Thousands of years ago there came a night that lasted a generation. Kings froze to death in their castles, the same as the shepherds in their huts. And women smothered their babies rather than see them starve, and wept and felt the tears freeze on their cheeks. So is this the sort of story that you like? In that darkness, the White Walkers came for the first time. They swept through cities and kingdoms, riding their dead horses, hunting with their packs of pale spiders big as hounds…"
The room shivered and trembled at the words of Old Nan, both the young and the old. Before they would all have shrugged it off as legend and stories, as stories told to make children behave. Now, now that they've seen the White Walkers, seen them with their eyes and know what they would do to them, none of them held back their fear.
"Do you think she was around when they came the last time?" Arya whispered to Jon.
"Old Nan is old but not that old, little sister. It's been 8000 years since the White Walkers caused us an issue. She couldn't have seen it."
"Maybe she dreamt it" Arya suggested, "what if she's a greenseer!"
"There haven't been greenseers for years."
"Neither have there been White Walkers" Arya challenged.
Jon frowned.
"It would make sense why her stories are so vivid" Robb added.
"Perhaps" Jon conceded.
[Robb walks into the room, interrupting Old Nan's story.]
"What are you telling him now?"
"Only what the little Lord wants to hear."
"Get your supper. I want some time with him"
[Old Nan walks out slowly.]
"One time she told me the sky is blue because we live inside the eye of a blue-eyed giant named Macumber."
Jon raised a brow at Robb.
"Not all her stories have to be!" he defended himself with a small blush.
"Maybe we do."
"How do you feel? You still don't remember anything? I've seen you climb a thousand times. In the wind, in the rain... A thousand times. You never fall."
"I didn't fall" Bran mumbled softly.
Catelyn threw a glare at Jaime, who pointedly avoided her look.
[Scene changes to Catelyn and Rodrick arrive at King's Landing, entering through a back entrance.]
"Fewer eyes back here, my Lady. But still too many."
"It's nine years since I've set foot in the capital. And no one knew who I was the last time I came either."
"You've already been made out I fear, my Lady" Jon Arryn shook his head.
"We just entered," Catelyn said in shock.
"Our Master of Whispers is quite capable. And there are more people invested in keeping their eyes and ears open" the old man explained.
"My Lady."
[Two guards pull up to her on horseback and hand her a scroll, informing her that she is to follow them.]
"Welcome to King's Landing, Lady Stark. Would you mind following us?"
Jon Arryn smiled at the woman, who looked a little disturbed. How good were these spies, and how good was the Master of them?
"I would. We've done nothing wrong."
"We've been instructed to escort you into the city."
"Instructed? I don't know who's providing your instructions, but..."
"Follow me, Lady Stark."
[At Baelish's brothel.]
Many made a face, the uglies of them being Ned and Catelyn's.
"Ah, Lord Baelish," Varys said with a small smile. "That is one of his brothels."
"Petyr would never disrespect me like that" Catelyn snapped.
"Cat!"
Catelyn's face fell. Then it turned red as a cherry. That worm!
[To his whores]
"Go on. Go upstairs."
"You little worm! You take me for some back-alley Sally you can drag into a…"
[Two naked whores interrupt, and Baelish snaps at them to leave.]
"I meant no disrespect to you of all people."
"How dare you bring me here! Have you lost your mind?"
"No one will come looking for you here. Isn't that what like you wanted? I'm truly sorry... about the locale."
"He seems genuine" Renly hummed. Hardly had he ever seen that man be genuine.
"How did you know I was coming to King's Landing?"
"A dear friend told me."
[Varys enters.]
"Lady Stark."
"Oh, I'm a dear friend of his I see" Varys giggled, the sound putting them all off a little.
"Lord Varys.'
"To see you again after so many years is a blessing. Your poor hands."
"How did you know I was coming?"
"You underestimate them too much, my lady. I must warn you that it would be a not so wise move on your part. Might even be your undoing" Oberyn explained.
"Petyr is a friend-"
"Littlefinger is a friend of no one but those he can benefit from. Trust me on this" Renly added.
Catelyn frowned. She did not trust him on that.
"Knowledge is my trade, my Lady. Did you bring the dagger with you, by any chance? My little birds are everywhere. Even in the north. They whisper to me the strangest stories."
[Catelyn hands him the dagger.]
"Valyrian steel."
"Do you know whose dagger this is?"
"I must admit I do not."
"Well well, this is an historic day. Something you don't know that I do. There's only one dagger like this in all of the Seven Kingdoms. It's mine."
"Why is he lying?" Stannis narrowed his eyes.
"Yours?"
"At least it was, until the tournament on Prince Joffrey's last nameday. I bet on Ser Jaime in the jousting, as any sane man would. When the Knight of the Flowers unseated him, I lost this dagger."
"To whom?"
"Tyrion Lannister. The Imp."
Outrage broke out from the Starks, all of them glaring daggers at Tyrion. It was only Jaime's laugh that drew their attention to him.
"Littlefinger is really using your lack of knowledge of us against you Lady Stark" the golden knight grinned arrogantly. "My brother never bets against me, I can bet you all the gold of the Westerlands on that."
"Petyr would not lie to me" Catelyn fumed.
"Cat… I can't believe I'm saying this but the Kingslayer is right. The Imp never bets against the Kingslayer, even if the Kingslayer is losing" Robert of all people put in his support.
"I never lose."
Robert ignored the man.
Catelyn went to say more but Ned stopped her.
"If Robert says-"
"Petyr is my friend, he would never lie to me" Catelyn insisted, furious that her husband was even nursing the thought.
"Perhaps if we keep watching, we'll figure this out" Oberyn cut in.
Catelyn looked away and back to the screen with a scowl.
[At Castle Black, in a courtyard. Grenn and Jon are swordfighting, Jon getting the best of him and breaking his nose.]
"You're showing off" Robb muttered.
"Am not" Jon huffed.
"If that were a real sword, you'd be dead. Lord Snow here grew up in a castle spitting down on the likes of you. Pyp. Do you think Ned Stark's bastard bleeds like the rest of us?"
[Pyp steps forward and with one move Jon has him on his back.]
"You're showing off" Arya said this time.
"I always fight like that" Jon argued.
"Yes, with Robb. None of them are Robb" Arya pointed out.
"What's your point? I should hold back?"
"Maybe you should take it easy and test them a little" Ned stated calmly. "Let them benefit from you for a change."
Jon frowned a little but did not speak to the man.
"Next!"
[Jon quickly dispatches another newcomer, we see Lord Commander Jeor and Tyrion looking on from a balcony.]
"Next!"
[Another man starts against Jon Snow, and as another joins, Jon defeats the two of them almost instantly.]
"Lord Snow, it appears you're the least useless person here. Go clean yourselves up. There's only so much I can stomach in a day."
"He's a bitter man" Margaery commented.
"He was a Targaryen Loyalist. He chose the Watch over death when Father sacked the city" Jaime explained. He had seen the man once or twice in passing. He was in the city watch.
Rhaegar perked up a little at hearing about a supporter of his.
[Tyrion and Lord Commander talking, overlooking the courtyard.]
"A charming man."
"I don't need him to be charming. I need him to turn this bunch of thieves and runaways into men of the Night's Watch."
"And how's that going, Commander Mormont?"
"Slowly."
"If we are to fight against the White Walkers, we need these men in their best condition" Ned sighed.
"We'll make sure our first line of defence is prepared" Jon Arryn nodded.
"We'll whip them into fighters, every last one of them" Robert grunted.
[Back in the throne room, just outside of the small council chambers.]
"Lord Stark. I meant to give you this earlier. So forgetful these days. A raven from Winterfell this morning."
"Good news? Perhaps you'd like to share it with your wife?"
"He's being too brazen" Brandon growled. Catelyn was supposed to be there in secret, and the man was openly speaking of it.
"Catelyn's friend might not be what he seems to her" Lyanna whispered to her eldest brother, who nodded.
"My wife is in Winterfell."
"Is she?"
[Baelish leads Ned to the entrance of his brothel. Ned is not so keen on the idea and begins choking Baelish.]
"That is the second time he's pulled a stunt like that without any prior warning" Catelyn sighed in frustration. What had gotten into the smart boy she knew from long ago?
"I thought that she'd be safest in here. One of several such establishments I own."
"You're a funny man. A very funny man."
[Catelyn poking her head out of a window.]
"Ned!"
"The Starks... Quick tempers, slow minds."
"Maybe if you're a little more clear about your intentions" Lyanna growled the insult to the family something none of the other Starks took kindly.
[Inside Baelish's brothel.]
"The mere suggestion that the Queen's brother tried to kill your boy would be considered treason."
"We have proof. We have the blade."
"Which Lord Tyrion will say was stolen from him. The only man who could say otherwise has no throat, thanks to your boy's wolf."
"Because it isn't mine" Tyrion muttered with a groan. He was going to get caught up in something he wanted no part of for sure.
"Petyr has promised to help us find the truth. He's like a little brother to me. He would never betray my trust."
"I wouldn't trust him if I were you, Lady Stark" warned Renly.
"He might be something to you all entirely, but to me, he's a little brother and I trust him with this" Catelyn glared at the man.
"Your funeral then" Renly shrugged.
[Scene changes to Jon in the armoury of Castle Black, putting away equipment when the gang of guys from before jump him.]
"And now they gang up on him" Ned sighed. None of them were remotely what they needed.
"You broke my nose, bastard!"
"It's an improvement."
"If we threw you over the Wall, wonder how long it'd take you to hit."
"I wonder if they'd find you before the wolves did."
"Jon's wolf might find you lot before any of you could even do it" Lyanna glowered.
"Easy sister" Brandon chuckled in amusement.
[Tyrion who had been watching makes himself known.]
"What're you looking at, half man?"
"I'm looking at you. You've got an interesting face. Very distinctive faces. All of you."
"What do you care about our faces?"
"It's just I think they would look marvellous decorating spikes in King's Landing. Perhaps I'll write my sister, the Queen, about it."
"We'll talk later, Lord Snow."
[The group walk away.]
"Everybody knew what this place was and no one told me. No one but you. My father knew and left me to rot here at the Wall all the same."
Ned flinched and Jon pointedly avoided his father's eyes.
"Grenn's father left him too... Outside a farmhouse when he was three. Pyp was caught stealing a wheel of cheese. His little sister hadn't eaten in three days. He was given a choice: his right hand or the Wall. I've been asking the Lord Commander about them. Fascinating stories."
"They hate me because I'm better than they are."
"You're better than they are because unlike them you have been trained by a master-at-arms" Brandon the elder pointed out with a disappointed shake of his head. "You've been thrown a terrible lot, suck it up and make it your own. You're a Stark, we don't whine about the injustices."
Jon lowered his head and kept his silence. But he was frowning, thinking about what his uncle said.
"It's a lucky thing none of them were trained by a master-at-arms like your Ser Rodrik. I don't imagine any of them have ever held a real sword before they came here."
[Scene changes to the King's chambers, he's drinking and eating at a table.]
"It's been a long time. But I still remember every face. You remember your first?"
"Please tell me he's not talking about what I think he's talking about" Lyanna muttered in disgust.
"He's sitting with Ser Barristan, so no, he's not. Probably" Brandon snorted at the glare his sister sent him.
"Of course, your Grace."
"Who was it?"
"A Tyroshi. Never learned the name."
"Oh gods…"
"How'd you do it?"
"Lance through the heart."
"See? I told you" Brandon smirked at a still-glaring Lyanna.
"Quick one. Lucky for you. Mine was some Tarly boy at the Battle of Summerhall. My horse took an arrow so I was on foot, slogging through the mud. He came running at me, this dumb high-born lad, thinking he could end the rebellion with the single swing of his sword. I knocked him down with the hammer. Gods, I was strong then. Caved in his breastplate. Probably shattered every rib he had. Stood over him, hammer in the air. Right before I brought it down he shouted, "Wait! Wait!"... They never tell you how they all shit themselves. They don't put that part in the songs."
The ones who did not take a life yet made faces at the wall.
"Stupid boy. Now the Tarlys bend the knee like everyone else. He could have lingered on the edge of the battle with the smart boys and today his wife would be making him miserable, his sons would be ingrates, and he'd be waking three times in the night to piss into a bowl. Wine! Lancel. Gods, what a stupid name. Lancel Lannister. Who named you? Some halfwit with a stutter?"
"You could be a little kinder to him" Lyanna admonished.
"Too much kindness makes a man weak and soft. If you don't believe me look at my son. All he ever had was kindness" Robert argued with little heat.
Lyanna shook her head and turned away.
"It's empty, your Grace."
"What do you mean it's empty?"
"I think you know exactly what that means, Robert" Lyanna growled.
"Lyanna" Ned warned.
Lyanna snapped her gaze elsewhere.
"There's no more wine."
"Is that what empty means?! So get more. Tell your cousin to get in here. Kingslayer! Get in here. Surrounded by Lannisters. Every time I close my eyes I see their blond hair and their smug, satisfied faces."
"You've gotten even worse as time passed" Lyanna grumbled.
"And whose fault is that?" Stannis spoke, stunning everyone. The serious man hardly spoke during the entire viewing. "He wanted you but you left him a broken man."
"I did not want to marry a drunken whoremongering-"
"And a husband and father of two was such a better idea? A man you knew for a few months at best!"
"Rhaegar is a better man than Robert could ever be" Lyanna stood up in outrage.
"If he was then he would have stuck behind and prevented a fucking war!" Stannis stood as well, his chair falling with a loud bang. "Instead you two ran off gods knew where and got married, while the realm burned!"
"We left a letter…"
"Fat load of shit that did! The letter never reached your father, or your brothers or my brother. And you know what happened then? Brandon charged to the capital with his friends because he was told you were abducted! He demanded that Rhaegar show himself or die. Of course, Rhaegar was not there, but your brother and his friends were arrested and sentenced to die for plotting the crown prince's murder. Your father came next and he demanded a trial by combat for your brother's life. Do you know who was Aerys' champion? You should because we just heard the story. Both your father and brother died and then Aerys demanded Robert and Lord Stark's heads! Because you and your precious perfect Prince decided to run away the entire realm had to be plunged into war! While you were in the comforts of wherever you went, the men and women suffered because of your and your Prince's actions! Do you know what it's like to be so hungry that you have to resort to eating rats? Do you have any idea what it feels like to be under siege and watch your enemies dine on the finest of food? Because Renly and I know it too well, the both of us have been through it for the major part of the war!"
"Stannis that is enough" Robert muttered, finally out of the shock of hearing his brother rant as he did. Stannis was not the kind of man who ranted, he was the silent type, made his displeasure known in his expressions.
Stannis scoffed at his brother.
"I got tired of her making you a villain when everything you have become is her fault and her fault only. I got tired of her thinking her sins were erased because she wrote a letter that did not reach anyone. And I got tired of you taking her abuse."
Stannis picked his chair up and sat back down, but he did not stop glaring at the woman.
The room fell into an awkward silence.
"Lyanna we can-"
"No" the woman cut her brother off hoarsely and cleared her throat with a cough. "Let's continue watching."
[Lancel rushes out and Jaime enters.]
"It must wound your pride, huh? Standing out there like a glorified sentry. Jaime Lannister, son of the mighty Tywin... Forced to mind the door while your King eats and drinks and shits and fucks. So come on. We're telling war stories. Who was your first kill, not counting old men?"
"One of the outlaws in the Brotherhood."
"I was there that day. You were only a squire, 16 years old."
"First kill at 16" Joanna muttered. She was impressed and was glad that Jaime was not receiving glares at that moment.
"Jaime is a generational talent with the sword" Tyrion explained with evident pride at his brother.
Jaime puffed up.
"He is an idiot though."
Jaime sighed.
"You killed Simon Toyne with a counter riposte. Best move I ever saw."
"A good fighter, Toyne, but he lacked stamina."
"Your outlaw... Any last words?"
"I cut his head off, so no."
"What about Aerys Targaryen? What did the Mad King say when you stabbed him in the back? I never asked. Did he call you a traitor? Did he plead for a reprieve?"
"He said the same thing he'd been saying for hours... "Burn them all." If that's all, your Grace..."
Much like the Robert on the wall, they all looked shocked, uncomfortable and horrified at the words. But nobody said anything. Mostly because Stannis' rant still played in their minds.
[Scene changes to Daenerys riding horseback and walking through fields.]
The girl on the screen perked up in the room. She hadn't seen herself in a while. It made her wonder whether she was important to the future at all.
"Do the Dothrakis buy their slaves?"
"The Dothraki don't believe in money. Most of their slaves were given to them as gifts."
"Gifts" Oberyn spat. He'd been in Essos for years, he's more than aware of their customs.
"From whom?"
"If you rule a city and you see the horde approaching, you have two choices: pay tribute or fight. An easy choice for most. Of course, sometimes it's not enough. Sometimes a Khal feels insulted by the number of slaves he's given. He might think the men are too weak or the women too ugly. Sometimes a Khal decides his riders haven't had a good fight in months and need the practice."
Daenerys looked horrified at the explosion. That was what her brother had married her into?
[Daenerys sees one of the Dothraki men strike a slave with a whip for not moving fast enough.]
"Tell them all to stop."
"You want the entire horde to stop? For how long?"
"Until I command them otherwise."
"You're learning to talk like a Queen."
"Not a Queen. A Khaleesi."
Even after the words Stannis had said, even with all the guilt eating at him because of them, Rhaegar couldn't help the pride he felt in his sister. He had never seen the girl, and from what he saw of her, she reminded Rhaegar of their mother, gentle, kind and someone who took the suffering of others to heart.
But unlike their mother, Rhaegar could see that Daenerys would do something about it.
[Daenerys dismounts her horse and walks through the field off of the path. She hears noises coming towards her and grass snapping. Her brother Viserys storms into the clearing on horseback wielding a sword.]
"You dare! You give commands to me? To me? You do not command the dragon. I am Lord of the Seven Kingdoms. I don't take orders from savages or their sluts. Do you hear me?"
[Viserys has his sword to Daenerys' throat. Rakharo whips Viserys, wrapping it around his neck and yanking him to his back.]
Rhaegar's eyes flashed dangerously at Viserys. That boy… no, not boy… that was a man now, and that man was too arrogant for his own good.
Maybe that was a family thing. He had been too arrogant to think that people would just be okay with him taking another wife. A letter or not, he had been too hasty and for that, the realm bled.
The guilt clawed at him more violently.
Irri: Rakharo ask if you want him dead, Khaleesi.
"Would do us all a favour" Robert grunted.
"No!"
"Rakharo say you should take ear, to teach respect."
"Please please, don't hurt him. Tell him I don't want my brother harmed."
[Rakharo lets him go.]
"Kill these Dothraki dogs! I am your King!"
"King of nothing, a beggar king" Tyrion commented snidely.
"Shall we return to the Khalasar, Khaleesi?"
"You walk. [to Viserys]"
"Serves him right" Sansa muttered.
[Scene changes to Irri braiding Daenerys hair and teaching her Dothraki. She feels Daenerys' breast.]
"What are you doing?"
"When was last time you bleed, Khaleesi? You change, Khaleesi. It's a blessing from the Great Stallion."
Everyone shifted uncomfortably, even Daenerys. It was clear what the girl meant, Daenerys was pregnant.
[Back again in the courtyard of Castle Black. Jon is battling his brothers in black as Tyrion overlooks from the balcony. Jon continues to defeat them, and he begins teaching them.]
"Much better" Brandon nodded in satisfaction.
[Tyrion reenters the hall to speak and drink with Aemon and Lord Commander.]
"How many winters have you seen, Lord Tyrion?"
"He's still alive," Rhaegar said with a smile.
"DO you know him?" Oberyn asked.
"Aemon Targaryen" was all Rhaegar said.
"Eight... no, nine."
"All of them brief?"
"They say the winter of my birth was three years long, Maester Aemon."
"This summer has lasted nine. But reports from the Citadel tell us the days grow shorter. The Starks are always right eventually: winter is coming. This one will be long and dark things will come with it."
"We've been capturing wildlings, more every month. They're fleeing south. The ones who flee... say they've seen the White Walkers."
"The more of them that die, the larger the army of the dead become" Jon suddenly realised and was loud when he said the words. The adults shared worried looks. How could they stop this thing?
"Yes, and the fishermen of Lannisport say they see mermaids."
"One of our own rangers swore he saw them kill his companions. He swore it right up to the moment Ned Stark chopped his head off."
"The Night's Watch is the only thing standing between the realm and what lies beyond. And it has become an army of undisciplined boys and tired old men. There are less than a thousand of us now. We can't man the other castles on the Wall. We can't properly patrol the wilderness. We've barely enough resources to keep our lads armed and fed."
"Your sister sits by the side of the King. Tell her we need help."
"When winter does come, gods help us all if we're not ready."
"Perhaps we can help the watch in gathering some resources of their own" Jon Arryn mumbled mostly to himself. But Robert heard him and grunted in reply.
[Scene changes to Arya in King's Landing.]
"You are late, boy. Tomorrow you will be here at midday."
"Syrio Forel?" Oberyn frowned in confusion. He hadn't heard from the first sword of Braavos in a while. Rumours had it that the man was dead.
"Who are you?"
"Your dancing master, Syrio Forel."
Oberyn's eyes flashed in recognition.
"It would suit her well" The man nodded his head, earning looks from the Starks.
[Syrio throws a wooden sword to Arya, she does not catch it, but drops it.]
"What dance requires a sword?" Robb frowned.
"The Water Dance of Braavos. It's a style of combat that uses the flexibility of the body and speed rather than brute strength. It would suit young Arya Stark and the kind of sword she wields."
Arya's eyes lit up with excitement.
Atelyn's darkened with distaste.
"Tomorrow you will catch it. Now pick it up. That is not the way, boy. This is not a great sword that is needing two hands to swing it."
"It's too heavy."
"It is heavy as it needs to be to make you strong. Just so. One hand is all that is needed. Now you are standing all wrong. Turn your body side-face. So. You are skinny. That is good. The target is smaller. Now the grip... Let me see. The grip must be delicate."
"What if I drop it?"
"The steel must be part of your arm. Can you drop part of your arm? No. Nine years Syrio Forel was first sword to the Sealord of Braavos. He knows these things. You must listen to me, boy."
"Perhaps I can learn this too, it looks interesting" Margaery commented.
The rest of the younger audience too found it interesting. Those who had a head for combat were thinking about how to incorporate it with their own way of fighting.
"I'm a girl."
"Boy, girl... You are a sword, that is all. That is the grip. You are not holding a battle-axe. You are holding..."
"A needle."
"Ahhh… Just so. Now we will begin the dance. Remember, child, this is not the dance of the Westeros we are learning... The knight's dance, hacking and hammering. This is the Bravo's dance... The water dance. It is swift and sudden. All men are made of water, do you know this? If you pierce them, the water leaks out and they die. Now you will try to strike me.:
[Arya takes several attempts as Syrio turns his back, defending her and disarming her constantly. She begins picking up on a few things but still needs much work. Ned enters in the doorway and his smile turns to a grimace watching his daughter swordfight.]
Catelyn's expression mirrored her husband's on the wall. She did not like her daughter learning all these unnecessary things.