She had been late to rise that morning, and had been rushing, fingers fumbling, to dress herself. One of the other women that shared the quarters with her had woken her with a shark kick to the edge of her mattress, which jerked her from sleep and left her in a foul mood. The door creaks open softly as she laces her shoes, the only thing remaining that was truly hers.

"I will be there in a moment!" Viola snaps without looking up as she tries for the third time to tie her left shoe. Something about the two missing finger tips made tying her shoes a mighty challenge.

"I wish for a word." The voice of Lord Stark echoes softly through the small room as he closes the door silently.

Viola jumps to her feet, leaving her shoe untied as her face reddens.

"My Lord, I beg forgiveness, I did not-"

"Nonsense." He chuckles before bending down and tying her shoe himself. "You warned me that there were birds in the forrest. I know now what it is that you meant. I have sought you out many times since then, yet you are always in the company of who I believe to be the birds you speak of."

"My Lord—"

"Hush now, girl." Lord Stark cuts her off and raises his hand to silence her before moving closer to whisper in her ear. "You need not speak; simply nod your head. Did Prince Joffrey do this to you?"

Reluctantly, with a pounding heart, Viola nods her head sharply.

"Sandor Clegane?" Viola raises a brow and cocks her head, having not heard the name Sandor before. "The Hound?"

She shakes her head no, which leaves Lord Stark with a surprised look in his eye.

"Who then, assisted the boy? If it were his uncle, Ser Jamie Lannister, I am already well on my way to issuing him a warrant for other crimes he has committed."

"Payne." Viola whispers in his ear, her heart beating in her own ears louder than she had spoken.

Lord Stark simply nods his head and exists the room as quickly as he had come. Viola spends the remainder of the day jumpy and on edge, constantly looking over her shoulder in case anyone were to come to the kitchens to fetch her.

The Hound, Sandor Clegane, is the only presence within the kitchen that did not belong, but she doubt he would be sent to fetch her as he had come to the kitchens already drunk that morning, and no doubt remained close by, as he was back every hour or so for another bottle of wine, until the cook finally cuts him off and the man stumbles away muttering to himself about needing to take a piss anyway. She had no idea how the man managed to drink as much as he had that day without falling dead on the floor, even if he were an overly-large man, for he returned late into the evening, looking especially ragged with dark circles beneath his eyes while Viola was alone kneading dough.

"Drink this." She tells him as she passes him a mug of water.

"No fucking water." He rumbles, his voice echoing in her chest.

"You look like shit." She admits as he chugs the water anyway.

"As do you."

"Yeah, well, at least mine wasn't self inflicted. Never seen a man drink so much in my life."

"A man has a thirst." He plops himself down heaily on a wooden stool, which creaks loudly beneath his mass. "That bread nearly done?"

"No. This bread is far from ready." Viola dunks her hands in a bucket of water and wipes them on her apron. She turns and fetches a half eaten loaf of that morning's bread from a wooden box, and slices a large portion of cheese from a wheel and passes them both to him. "There's salt meat over there, but I won't be the one to cut it. Cook will have my hands for that."

"Fuck the cook." The Hound proclaims loudly between bites of bread. "I hear you're close to scampering away, little fox."

"Oh?" Viola stops in her tracks and looks over at him, her mouth slightly open in surprise.

"Word is there's a party leaving King's Landing and headed towards The Trident in a fortnight. Word is, you and I may be in it."

"You and I?"

"King's protection only goes so far, little one. He sends you out with those cunts and you'll be well broke in before nightfall, if you aren't already."

"Do you speak the truth? Am I really going home?" Viola ignores his jape and excitedly runs to his side, a smile plastered upon her face at the thought of seeing her father again.

"I am no liar. So long as you didn't go running your mouth, I'll see you home to your blessed father."

The three days that follow her conversation with Sandor Clegane, Viola is on top of the world. She smiles as she works, she smiles at others as they pass her by, she even greets the cook as she enters the kitchens, something she's never done before, allows the one of the girls in her room to braid her hair before bed, and even holds her head high as she walks the halls to and from the kitchens. She is happy, happier than she had ever remembered being in her life, because she is finally to see her father.

All of her happiness comes crashing down around her on the forth morning when she enters the kitchens to find that not only had Lord Stark been injured the morning before while in the village, but King Robert will be leaving on a hunting party that very day. To further salt her wounds, The Mountain is currently tearing up The Riverlands in search for The Imp, Tyrion Lannister. All voyages outside of the castle have henceforth been halted.

Viola cries silently, hugging her arms tightly around her body as she shakes with violent sobs while hiding alone in the kitchens pantry. The door flings open without warning, showering her in golden candlelight. She hastily dries her eyes on her apron before smoothing her hands down her sides to clear any wrinkles in her dress. She is greeted by a yellow-haired boy with green eyes and a stern, young looking face.

"His Majesty the king requests your presence." The boy says flatly and turns without another word, leaving Viola to jog after him.

She follows the young man, no doubt a Lannister, through the castle, and up to the king's private quarters. She had never been in a castle before, and had no idea the number of stairs she would be climbing to reach the king's rooms. She is quickly out of breath, and wonders to herself just how King Robert remained so fat when he had to trudge these stairs day in and day out to reach his chambers.

The yellow-haired boy knocks hard on the king's door, and his booming voice from within grants them access.

"Out with you, boy!" The king booms the moment the boy she had followed opens the door. "And none of this listening at the door nonsense that you Lannister's love to do, or I will have your tongue!"

Viola locks her hands behind her back and bows down at the king as the boy slams the door behind her. The king rises and waves his hand in her direction, indicating that she should rise. He pours himself a glass of wine, then points over to a side table where a platter of glasses resides. She fetches a glass for herself and allows the king to pour her a generous amount before he gestures towards a chair opposite him before a roaring fire.

"Lord Stark has told tale that you have implicated my son, Prince Joffrey, and Ser Ilyn Payne in this attack upon you. Is this true, girl?"

"Ye—yes, Your Grace." Viola stutters as the wind sloshes in her hand due to the shakes coursing through her body.

"Drink, girl. Calm your nerves. I have no desire to cause you harm."

"Thank you, Your Grace." Viola drinks greedily from the cup to calm herself and places the now empty cup on the table before her, shaking her head in the process as the king attempts to fill it for her once more.

"I will hear the truth of it now, girl. The whole truth. None of this 'I don't remember' horse shit."

"Yes, Your Grace." Viola swallows a gulp and proceeds to tell the king the entirety of the story as he nods his head and steeples his hands beneath his fat chin.

"And that is the truth of it?" He asks once she finishes.

"Yes, that is the truth of it."

"I will see to it that my son and Ser Payne are each punished accordingly upon my return. Thus far, the only ones to know the truth of this are Ned Stark and I. I will keep it that way, for now. What is it that you want for this, girl? Gold? Land? The God's know there's more than enough castles in The Riverlands, I'll see to it that your father is granted one, even a Lordship if need be. Is this what you want?"

"No, your Grace." Viola shakes her head and shrinks in her chair at the kings glare. "I just want to go home, to my home, with my father. I don't belong here. I don't want anything else, only my father. I swear it."

"Very well. Upon my return, I will personally escort you home, along with my King's Guards, and see to it that you are returned to your father in one piece."

"Thank you, Your Grace. That is very kind of you."

"One more thing, girl. It is my understanding that my wife placed you in the kitchens as a maid. Those were not my orders. You will be moved, tonight, to your previous chambers, and I will see to it that you are paid the wages you should have earned for your troubles. None of this 'working for your keep' horse shit that she spewed to me. You are a guest here, and should have been treated as such."

King Robert dismissed her, and has his squire, the yellow-haired boy escorts her back to her previous rooms. They are large and well lit, a fire roaring in the hearth, and candles lit of every surface. A large window overlooks the city, which makes her feel small. She had not noticed the window in her previous stay, as the curtains had been drawn. Upon her pillow is a leather pouch containing several golden stags, which she promptly hides in her breast, and falls back on the bed.