The sun hung high over the Dornish estate, casting warm, golden light across the sandstone courtyard. Edric stood near the fountain, listening intently as Oberyn Martell spoke. The Red Viper's voice was smooth and confident, he was recounting a tale of his younger days in Volantis.

Arianne stood close to Edric. Draped in flowing silks of deep orange and crimson, she leaned lightly against his side, one arm hooked around his waist. Her head rested against his shoulder, her dark, curling hair cascading over his chest. The gesture was casual. Edric's arm was looped around her back. A faint flush colored his cheeks, though he held himself with composure.

"...And that's when the fool realized his dagger was still sheathed," Oberyn finished with a chuckle, his sharp gaze shifting between the two younger figures before him.

Edric hesitated, glancing down at Arianne for a moment, her dark eyes meeting his. "You know Lord Oberyn." he said, his voice steady but low. "Arya is missing her usual lesson today, and she's been restless ever since." He hesitated briefly, "Would you be willing to fill in? I think she'd benefit from your... expertise."

Oberyn tilted his head thoughtfully. "Arya Stark... She's the little wolf, yes? Fierce and wild?"

Edric nodded, his gaze steady. "She is. And she has potential. More than anyone realizes, I think. I'd rather she not lose a day of honing it."

Oberyn considered for a moment, then gave a sweeping bow, though the mischief in his expression never faded. "For you, perhaps I can make an exception. Let us see what the little wolf is made of."

"Thank you," Edric said earnestly, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly.

"Don't thank me yet," Oberyn replied, his grin turning sly. "You might regret unleashing her on the world with even sharper claws."

Edric chuckled "I think I will" Edric gently loosened Arianne's hold on him, his arm slipping away from her waist as he straightened. "Excuse me," he said softly, his tone polite but distracted. Arianne raised an eyebrow but didn't stop him, her dark eyes following him as he stepped away.

With measured strides, Edric left the courtyard and began making his way to Arya's chambers, intending to let her know about Oberyn's offer. On his way to Arya's room, a gnawing instinct made him glance toward Sansa's chamber. The door was slightly ajar, and when he stepped closer, he saw it: empty. Her bed was undisturbed, the chamber eerily still. A flicker of unease began to spark in his bed was untouched, the room eerily neat for someone so prone to emotional storms. A pit formed in his stomach. He stepped inside, his eyes scanning the space for any sign of her. None.

"Sansa?" he called out, his voice firm but carrying a tremor of concern. Silence answered.

Quickly, he pivoted and strode to Arya's room, pushing open the door without preamble. Arya was seated on the floor, her needlework abandoned in favor of a small, carved wolf figurine she was inspecting. She looked up at him, her expression a mixture of annoyance and curiosity.

"Where's Sansa?" Edric demanded, his tone sharper than he intended.

Arya furrowed her brow. "How should I know? She's probably sulking somewhere about Joffrey again. Why?"

"Her room is empty," Edric replied, the tightness in his voice betraying his growing fear. "You haven't seen her at all?"

Arya shook her head, her irritation fading as she noticed his tension. "No, I haven't seen her since breakfast. Why? What's the big deal?"

Edric didn't respond immediately. Instead, he turned on his heel and strode down the hall, his pace quickening as panic began to creep into his thoughts. He flagged down the first servant he saw, a young woman carrying a basket of linens.

"Find Lady Sansa," he said firmly, his voice leaving no room for argument. "Now. Tell the others to search every corner of the estate—inside and out. She's missing."

The servant's eyes widened in alarm, and she nodded hastily before hurrying off. Edric paused, his breath coming quicker, his mind racing. Where could she have gone?

The servant's eyes widened, and with a quick nod, they darted off to carry out his orders. Edric strode into the main hall, summoning another servant. "Check the outer gates. Ask the guards if they've seen her. I need to know the moment anyone spots her."

He rubbed his temples, trying to keep his composure, but his pulse raced with every passing second. Where could she have gone? The estate was secure, but the idea of Sansa wandering outside its bounds sent a shiver through him.

A thought crossed his mind—a dangerous one. Joffrey. She wouldn't... would she?

Edric's footsteps echoed against the stone floors as he made his way back to the courtyard his mind churned with anxiety. His thoughts were a chaotic jumble.

He quickened his pace, turning the corner, only to see Arianne and Oberyn standing near the fountain. Another man was with them—a servant, judging by his attire—but the sight of him immediately drew Edric's attention. The man was panting heavily, his face slick with sweat, and his hands clutched his knees as if he'd just sprinted from the harbor.

Arianne noticed Edric first, her expression a mix of curiosity and concern. "Edric," she called, stepping toward him, but the servant's frantic words cut through the air before she could say more.

"The... Winds Witch," the man gasped, his voice ragged. "She's been sabotaged... sunk in the harbor."

The words hung in the air like a thunderclap, silencing the courtyard.

Edric froze mid-step, his heart lurching in his chest. "What?" he demanded, his voice sharp, almost disbelieving.

"The Winds Witch," the man repeated, straightening though his breaths were still labored. "Sabotage, my lord. Fire in her holds—she went down just an hour ago. Saboteurs... we think... no survivors from below deck."

Oberyn's face darkened, his jaw tightening as his sharp eyes burned with fury. "And no one saw this happening? No one stopped it?"

"Forgive me, my prince," the man stammered, bowing his head. "The guards at the docks said it was swift—no warning, no signs until it was too late."

Arianne's eyes were wide as she turned to Edric. "That was our ship," she whispered, "We were supposed to leave on her."

Edric's fists clenched at his sides, his mind racing. The Winds Witch was supposed to be their escape from King's Landing, their lifeline out of here. Sansa's disappearance now felt all the more ominous.

He stepped closer to the man, his voice low and dangerous. "You're sure that no one saw who did this? Were there any witnesses?"

The servant shook his head. "None that we know of, my lord. But the harbor is in chaos—rumors are already spreading."

Edric glanced at Oberyn, whose expression was unreadable but simmering with a deadly calm. "This isn't a coincidence," Edric said, his voice steady but laced with fury. "Someone knew we were leaving on that ship."

Arianne's hand found his arm, her grip firm, though her own fear was evident. "What do we do now?" she asked softly, her gaze flickering between him and Oberyn.

Edric exhaled slowly, forcing his mind to focus despite the chaos. "We find Sansa first," he said, his voice resolute. "Then we plan. Whoever did this... they won't stop here."

Oberyn's eyes darkened, his usual smirk replaced by a cold calculation. "This changes things."

Edric turned sharply toward him, his frustration evident. "Changes things? It changes everything! We have no ship, and now Sansa is god knows where. Do you have any idea what this means?"

Oberyn stepped closer, his tone level but firm. "I understand better than you think. But rash actions will get us nowhere. We need to figure out who did this—and fast."

Arianne placed a hand on Edric's arm, her touch gentle yet firm. "Edric, calm yourself. We will find a way. First, we must ensure your sister's safety. Then, we can focus on finding out who sabotaged your escape."

Edric nodded, but his thoughts were already scattered in different directions. The Winds Witch was sunk, and their plans were now in ruins. And with Sansa still unaccounted for, he wasn't sure how much time they had before everything came crashing down.

Oberyn's voice broke through the tense silence, his tone calm yet carrying a certain assurance that cut through the chaos. "It's not all lost," he said, his gaze steady as he looked at Edric. "I had prepared another ship, just in case something like this happened."

Edric blinked, disbelief flickering in his eyes. "Another ship?" he repeated, his voice tinged with a mix of relief and skepticism. "You knew this could happen?"

Oberyn's lips curled into a wry smile, though his eyes remained serious. "I have learned to never rely on a single plan, especially in this city." He gestured toward the horizon. "The new ship is waiting in the harbor. It is not the Winds Witch, but it will get us, not to Winterfell, but to Dorne safely."

Arianne's expression softened as she placed her hand on Edric's shoulder, offering a comforting squeeze. "We're not without options, Edric. We'll still get out of here."

As the three stood in tense silence, a second servant rushed into the courtyard, his face pale and his breathing frantic. He stumbled to a halt, bowing hastily.

"My lord," the servant began, his voice quivering, "we... we've searched the estate thoroughly. Lady Sansa... she is nowhere to be found."

Edric's heart dropped, a cold wave of dread washing over him. His jaw tightened, and his hands clenched into fists as he fought to steady himself. "Nowhere?" he repeated, his voice sharp and filled with disbelief.

"We checked her room, the gardens, the kitchens... even the servants' quarters," the man stammered. "No one has seen her since this morning."

The weight of the words hung in the air for a moment before Edric's composure cracked. He stepped away from Arianne, his grip on her falling away as he clenched his fists. His voice exploded, sharp and furious.

"Gods fucking damned it, Sansa!"

Arianne startled slightly at the outburst, her brows arching as she looked between Edric and the servant.

Edric pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering a string of curses under his breath before saying. "The Red Keep. She's gone to see Joffrey."

Oberyn's frown faded, replaced by a look of mild incredulity. "The Red Keep? With all that's transpired, she chose now to chase after that boy?"

"It's foolish," Edric snapped. "And reckless. She's going to get herself killed—or worse." Edric turned back to Oberyn and Arianne, his face etched with a mixture of anger and worry. "I'll have to go after her. If she's already inside the Red Keep, this could spiral out of control fast."

Oberyn rested a hand on Edric's shoulder, his tone both firm and reassuring. "Calm yourself. Rushing in there hot-headed will solve nothing. Let's approach this with a plan."

"Plan or no plan, we don't have time to waste," Edric shot back, shaking Oberyn's hand off. "If she's already there, I don't even want to imagine what kind of trouble she might be stirring up."

Arianne gave him a knowing look, stepping back slightly to let him prepare himself. "Then go, but don't lose your head. You're no good to her—or anyone—if you make the same mistake she did."

Edric's gaze hardened as he addressed Oberyn and Arianne, his voice resolute. "You two, take Arya and assemble the entire guard. At sundown head straight for the boat, and do not wait for us. If I'm not back in time with my father and Sansa, you go. Do you understand?"

Oberyn caught Edric's eyes, his gaze unwavering. "You speak as if you already know that you won't make it."

Edric turned away for a moment, his thoughts shifting toward what was at stake. His hand clenched at his side as he added, "If I miss the ship—if we miss it—then my father, Sansa, and I will most likely ride to Storm's End or if possible sail to Dragonstone. It's a longer road to Storm's End, but we'll make it there. The Lannisters will be harder pressed there, and I'll take my chances with their forces over whatever awaits here."

Arianne stepped closer, her voice firm. "You won't miss it, Edric."

Edric met her gaze, his resolve building despite the uncertainty. "I have to be sure. No more mistakes." He turned to Oberyn, his voice steady now. "Keep your guard on high alert. If anything goes wrong, we need to be ready."

Oberyn smiled slightly, a rare sign of warmth. "We will be."

With that, the plan was set into motion. Oberyn and Arianne moved to gather the guard, while Edric, still burning with determination, began to make his way back to find Sansa and his father, his mind set on ensuring the safety of his family, no matter the cost.

Edric's hands were steady but his heart raced as he strapped his sword and knife onto his belt. His mind churned with thoughts of Sansa, of the looming threat, and of his father. The courtyard felt smaller with every passing second, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. He paced quickly, boots clicking against the stone as he gathered his thoughts.

He had to act fast.

With one last glance at the estate. He turned toward his horse, the animal already saddled and ready, as if anticipating the chaos to come. He leapt onto the horse's back, his grip on the reins firm, his posture rigid. The rhythmic sound of hooves echoed in the courtyard as he spurred the horse forward, galloping toward the gates.

"To the Red Keep," he muttered under his breath, a mantra of resolve. He needed to reach it before things got worse. Every moment counted.

The streets of King's Landing blurred as he rode, the wind cutting through his hair. His eyes were fixed ahead, his pulse quickening with the urgency of the situation. There was no time to waste—Sansa had already made her move, and he had to catch up, or else the entire plan would be in jeopardy.

Edric's boots hit the stone of the Red Keep with a heavy, determined rhythm as he ran up the stairs of the Tower of the Hand. His heart raced, his thoughts consumed with finding Sansa and his father. The urgency gnawed at him, but he forced himself to focus. He had no time to waste.

As he burst through the door to the solar, his eyes locked onto the scene before him—his father, Eddard Stark, seated at the table, speaking quietly with the ever-smiling Petyr Baelish. The sight of Baelish's smug expression made Edric's blood boil. That man—always lurking in the shadows, always scheming.

"Out," Edric barked, his voice cold with authority. "Now."

Baelish turned slowly, his eyes narrowing slightly at the unexpected intrusion, but Edric's anger left little room for negotiation. "I do not have time for your games, Baelish. You need to leave."

Edric moved toward him, stepping forward with every intention to physically remove him if necessary. The tension in the room thickened, but Baelish only gave a small, knowing smile.

"I see, but I feel more inclined to listen to your Lord Father, Lord Edric" Baelish said coolly, clearly unshaken. Edric didn't flinch. Instead, he grabbed Baelish's arm, forcing him toward the door with a sharp jerk. "Out," he repeated, his grip tightening.

With an exasperated sigh, Baelish allowed himself to be guided out, throwing one last glance at Eddard as he went. Once the door was slammed behind him, Edric turned to his father, his breath ragged from the run up the stairs.

"Father, listen to me." His voice was urgent, steady despite the panic threatening to break through. "Sansa's gone. She's missing. And the Wind's Witch has been sunk at the docks. Oberyn—he's got a backup plan for Dorne. There's another ship ready to sail at sundown."

Eddard stared at his son, the weight of his words slowly sinking in. "What do you mean, missing?" he asked, his face darkening with concern. "Where has she gone?"

"She somewhere here, the royal apartments maybe," Edric said, clenching his fists. "We've searched the estate. But there's no time now, Father. We need to find her quickly."

Eddard paused, his hand resting on the doorframe as the weight of the situation settled heavily upon him. His mind was sharp, but time was slipping away. He knew his son was eager to act, but there was no room for mistakes, no time to second-guess.

Eddard's expression hardened, his eyes scanning Edric with a quiet intensity that belied the frustration building within him. He paused, weighing the decision, then met his son's gaze directly.

"No," Eddard said, his voice firm but steady. "We won't find her, I'll find her. You need to go to the boat. Board it, and wait for us there."

He took a deep breath, clearly struggling to make peace with the choice. "I will find Sansa. I'll protect her, and I will bring her back. But if we don't reach the docks by sundown, you are to set sail without us."

Edric was frozen, words caught in his mouth. Edric's jaw tightened, his hands clenching at his sides. "Father, I can't leave without you. We have to find her—together."

"Edric," he began, his voice firm but tinged with an underlying urgency. "You need to go. Now."

Edric looked up at his father, the fire in his eyes matching the storm within. "But Father—"

"No," Eddard cut him off, his expression hardening. "I need you to go to the boat. Board it and wait for us there. You must be ready to sail with or without us. If we aren't there by sundown, then you must set sail without us. Understand?"

Edric swallowed hard, his chest tightening with conflicting emotions. His father's words carried the weight of authority, but the command still tore at him. "And if I refuse?"

Eddard's eyes softened just a fraction, but his voice remained resolute. "Then you'll be a fool, and I will not allow that. I know you want to stay, but your place is at the ship. Do it for your family, Edric. Go now."

Edric looked at his father, his jaw tight, the storm of emotions swirling in his chest. "Father, I can't just leave—"

"You will," Eddard interrupted. His tone was calm, but there was no room for argument. "I will handle this. You are needed at the ship, where you can ensure our escape if things go wrong. Trust me, Edric."

Edric stood still for a moment, conflicted, his hands clenched tightly at his sides. He didn't want to leave his father or Sansa in danger. The urgency of the situation weighed on him, and he finally nodded, his throat tight.

"But I won't leave you behind, Father. If anything happens—"

"Nothing will happen," Eddard said with quiet certainty. "But if it does, you know what to do. Go now, and do what must be done."

Edric hesitated, the words sinking in like a dagger to his heart. The thought of leaving his father and Sansa behind gnawed at him, but his father's tone left no room for argument.

"You'll bring her back, won't you?" Edric asked, his voice betraying a hint of desperation.

"I'll bring her back," Eddard promised, locking eyes with him. "But you need to trust that this is the best course of action for now."

"I'll wait for you," Edric finally said, his voice tight. "But you better come back."

With a steely resolve Ned said "Make sure Arya gets to safety, and I'll make sure Sansa does."

He continued, "You do your part," Eddard said, his voice calm but resolute, "and I will do mine."

Edric's heart raced, the urgency of the moment thickening the air around him. "I will. I promise."

With a nod, Edric moved to leave, but Eddard placed a hand on his shoulder, his grip firm. "If we miss the ship, I'll find a way to either Dragonstone or Storm's End, you need not worry about us."

Eddard stepped past his son, moving toward the door that led to the royal apartments. "Stay safe, Edric. I'll bring her back. Trust me."

As Edric stood there for a moment, watching his father's back as he walked out, the weight of the decision hit him all over again. There was no going back now. His father was right. He had a duty to see the plan through, but there was a part of him, deep down, that feared they wouldn't make it in time.

With a final glance at the door, Edric turned on his heel, making his way swiftly back down the stairs to find his horse.

As Edric descended the stairs, his thoughts swirled in a storm of anxiety and determination. His father, resolute and focused, walked past him without a glance, heading toward the throne room and the royal apartments. His footsteps echoed off the stone walls, and Edric couldn't help but feel the weight of the decision pressing down on him.

His father's posture, rigid and unyielding, spoke volumes about the responsibility he bore. Eddard Stark was a man of action, but even he couldn't control all of the chaos now unfolding in King's Landing.

Edric watched his father stride past him, his posture rigid with determination. Eddard's heavy steps echoed through the stone halls as he made his way toward the throne room, the royal apartments, and whatever confrontation awaited there.

Edric stood at the bottom of the stairs, watching his father's retreating figure, wondering if this was the last time he would see him in such a state. The uncertainty gnawed at him. He knew his father's strength and resolve, but even that couldn't predict the dangers they were all facing now.

His father didn't look back, as though the weight of everything was too heavy to acknowledge any further distractions. Edric clenched his fists, his mind spinning with the need to act, to reach the ship and wait for the moment that would determine their future.

But he couldn't just follow his father blindly into danger. He couldn't help but fear what would happen if they failed to reunite, or if something went wrong.