Most people describe Kings Landing as a warm place but for Torrhen Stark, the last two days he felt coldness in the warm place. The chill of the approaching winter seeped into the very bones of Kings Landing for the Heir of Winterfell, whispering secrets through the ancient castle walls. Torrhen Stark stood in the shadows of the castle's secret passage way, his heart heavy with uncertainty. Above him, the streets bustled with activity, but all he could focus on was the distant echo of his father's voice, a voice filled with wisdom, strength, and now, peril.
A raven's cry pierced the stillness, and Torrhen's thoughts drifted to the chaos that had unfolded in recent days. His family was fracturing under the weight of betrayal, and each moment felt like a countdown to disaster. He gripped the hilt of his sword, feeling the cool steel beneath his fingers, a reminder of the legacy he bore. Remembering the simple times, but Torrhen always embraced his legacy. He enjoyed, no thrived as the holder of Dawn, but now his thoughts went to Winterfell. What his siblings must be thinking. The North had always demanded loyalty and courage, and now, as the shadows deepened, Torrhen knew he could no longer remain a passive observer. The last two days, he had been a busy man, he figured word would had reached Robb by now, speaking of which, he needed to send a raven to him.
Torrhen had hoped during his time in Kings Landing that bonds he had built, would come through for him. Torrhen had a plan to rescue Sansa and Ned. In a matter of fact, he had several plans, he knew he could not rely on a single plan, not when lives were at stake. Luckily, he ran into Arya after Ned was imprisoned, she was staying with a friend he trusted with his whole heart.
In the Dungeons, Ned has no idea how long he has been here, no one has come to see him. He has no idea if his family is even safe. Usually you have the flickering of torchlight casts long shadows across the damp stone walls, but Ned has none of that. The jail cell Ned sits on a cold floor, the weight of his situation pressing heavily on him. The door creaks open, and Varys is cloaked in his signature muted robes, glides into the cell with a soft, measured grace.
Varys: Lord Stark, you must be thirsty. 'he gives him water but is hesitant to drink'
Ned: Varys
Varys: I promise you it isn't poisoned. 'Ned just stares at him' Why is it no one ever trusts the eunuch? 'Ned finally drinks the water' Not so much, my lord. I would save the rest, if I were you.
Ned: What brings the Spider to my web? 'Narrowing his eyes towards Varys
Varys: 'Smiling faintly' A delicate inquiry, my lord. A curiosity about the state of your mind.
Ned looks at Varys, his face hardening.
Ned: Curiosity? Is that what you call it while you spy on the realm?
Varys steps closer, lowering his voice.
Varys: I prefer to think of myself as a humble servant of the realm. Information is a currency far more valuable than gold.
Ned: And yet it's cost me dearly.
Varys tilts his head, a glimmer of something unreadable in his eyes.
Varys: The game we play is a cruel one. You are a man of honor in a court rife with deceit. Tell me, do you believe your sense of justice will shield you from the blades of treachery?
Ned leans forward, fists clenched.
Ned: Justice is all I have left. If I surrender that, then what am I?
Varys studies him, his expression softening just a fraction.
Varys: You are a Stark, and the North remembers. But the South... the South forgets easily. It is not too late, my lord. There are paths to tread that may yet lead you back to your family.
Ned's eyes flicker with hope and skepticism.
Ned: And what price do you ask for this information?
Varys chuckles lightly, the sound echoing eerily in the small cell.
Varys: Ah, my lord, there is always a price. But I offer you a choice: act with caution or stand resolute in your honor. The choice may very well save your life.
Ned straightens, a glint of defiance in his eyes.
Ned: I will not be swayed by threats or bribes. My honor is my own.
Varys's smile fades, replaced by an earnest intensity.
Varys: And that, dear Ned, is precisely why I find you so intriguing. But remember: sometimes, survival is the highest form of honor especially for your kids, but rest assure Torrhen has young Arya hidden but Sansa is still with the Queen, she still plans to marry Sansa to Joffrey so she is safe.
As Varys turns to leave, Ned's voice stops him.
Ned: If you truly wish to help, then help me see my family again. They are my only concern.
Varys pauses, glancing back with an enigmatic look.
Varys: Then keep your wits about you. The winds are shifting, and you will need every ally you can muster.
He steps closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially.
Varys: And rest assured, young Torrhen has taken a keen interest in your predicament. He may yet prove a valuable player in this game.
Ned's eyes widen, a mix of hope and concern flashing across his face.
Ned: Torrhen? What are you saying?
Varys smiles cryptically.
Varys: Only that plans are afoot, my lord. Watch the shadows, for sometimes they hide the brightest stars.
With that, Varys slips out into the darkness, leaving Ned alone once more, the flickering torchlight dancing ominously on the walls.
In the Great Hall, Robb is reading a letter he received from Sansa, Maester Luwin is standing beside him, while Theon is sitting at the table.
Robb: Treason? Sansa wrote this?
Luwin: Itisyour sister's hand, but the Queen's words. You are summoned to King's Landing to swear fealty to the new King.
Robb: Joffrey puts my father in chains, now he wants his ass kissed?
Luwin: This is a royal command, My Lord.
Robb: But why? Torrhen is the Heir to Winterfell, not me, not only that, they don't even mention him
Luwin: By addressing you directly, they aim to fracture the Stark name. They know Torrhen is absent, and they intend to use that to their advantage. Their goal is to undermine your position, to create doubt among your bannermen
Robb: They think that will work? They know nothing about Northern culture! It won't work!
Luwin: They want to see how far they can push you. If you refuse, they may escalate their tactics, which could endanger your family
Before Robb could respond, a. guard came in with a letter from Kings Landing. Robb read it then handed it to Luwin
Robb: Is that actually from him?
Luwin: I believe so
Theon: What is it, Robb?
Robb: It is a letter from Torrhen. He says he is fine. He has Arya. He's working on a plan to free Sansa and Father
Theon: That's great, is it not?
Robb: It is
Theon: Then why aren't you a little happier?
Robb: He also says if we don't hear back from him in a week to assume the worst
Theon: What will you do Robb?
Robb: His Grace summons me to King's Landing, I'll go to King's Landing.
Theon: Robb-
Robb: But not alone. Call the banners.
Luwin: All of them?
Robb: They've all sworn to defend my father, have they not?
Luwin: They have
Robb: Well right now he and his heir needs them. Now we see what their words are worth.
Theon: You scared
Robb: Aye
Theon: Good
Robb: Why is that good?
Theon: It means you aren't stupid
With that Luwin and Theon leave while Robb stays
Robb: Don't worry father, Torrhen, I am coming, just hold on . . .
The cool stone corridor of the Red Keep felt oppressive as Ser Barristan Selmy strode through the dim light, his thoughts heavy. As he was getting closer to the training yard, his thoughts went to Torrhen. He had watched Torrhen Stark from afar, noting the young man's demeanor and bravery. Then one day, he decided to train with him, the two became very close, he had hoped the boy was safe, but you don't know, especially in Kings Landing. In many ways, the boy reminded him of someone, noble, determined, and bearing the weight of a legacy he didn't yet fully he approached the training yard, he spotted Varys, the Spider, waiting by the entrance. The whispering shadows of the court seemed to cling to him like a shroud.
Varys: Ser Barristan, 'a glimmer of urgency in his eyes.' I need to speak with you.
Barristan: 'nodded, motioning for Varys to follow him into a quieter alcove.' What troubles you, my lord?
Varys:The situation grows dire, 'his voice low.' Joffrey has removed you from the Kingsguard, and the threat to Ned Stark increases daily. But there is a plan—a chance to help him escape.
Barristan: What plan?
Varys: 'leaned closer, ensuring no prying ears could overhear.' Torrhen has devised a strategy, one that involves a small group of loyalists within the castle. They intend to create a diversion to free Ned.
Barristan: 'felt a surge of pride for the young Stark.' Torrhen... he has spirit. But he's still untested in these treacherous waters.
Varys: True. But he possesses a certain quality something that sets him apart. He has the potential to rise to greatness, even in the darkest of times."
Barristan frowned, sensing the layers in Varys's words. "You speak as if he carries a legacy. What do you mean? You know something, don't you?
Varys: Only that the past often shapes the present in ways we cannot foresee. Should the opportunity arise, you might consider guiding Torrhen beyond Westeros. He may find allies who can help him navigate the future like Daenerys.
Barristan: Daenerys? You believe Torrhen should seek her out?
Varys: It's a suggestion, of course, 'Varys said with a sly smile.' But alliances forged in adversity can be powerful. And in uncertain times, it's wise to look to those who understand the weight of legacy.
With that, Barristan strode out of the alcove, determination etched on his face. He would protect the Stark legacy, and perhaps, in the shadows of the past, he could help Torrhen discover the truth about his own.
Torrhen has been busy the last few days, he has a feeling the execution is here. It will be soon, probably in a few hours or so, his mind is racing, trying to make sure everything goes according to plan. He is not worried about being caught, when Torrhen wanted to, he could disappear, it made him think of his earlier days, when the rare times he didn't want to go to study, no one could find him until he wanted to be found. Torrhen was now in one of the castles many secret passage ways, Torrhen always admired the Targaryens but now his respect for them grew, such genius behind these tunnels, sometimes he did wish he could be a Targaryen. Torrhen walked a couple more minutes until he found Arya.
Torrhen: Little wolf, come here
Arya: What's wrong?
Torrhen: It is happening today. You remember the plan?
Arya: Yes, I don't have much to do
Torrhen: Because I want you safe, now listen to me
Arya: I always do
Torrhen: I know but listen closely, once we have father, the only way for him to escape will be for us to probably separate
Arya: No Torrhen, remember the pack has to stay together
Torrhen: I know little wolf, I know but it is the only way
Arya: Fine
Torrhen: If this happens, you and Father should meet up with Robb and the rest of the north. Now go get into position and stay hidden
Arya: Where are you going?
Torrhen: It is a secret, little one, I have a few things that I have to do, I will be safe, don't worry
Ned has only one visitor since being in this cell, makes sense to him, he figures he is in the most lowest cell of the castle that is guarded with enough guards to fend of a small army. The worst part was his eyes had gotten use to the dark and now that the doors are opening and in walks someone with a torch that is blinding Ned, finally after a few seconds, Ned sees it is the spider again visiting him, this surprises Ned.
Varys: You've seen better days, my lord.
Ned: Another visit. It seems you're my last friend.
Varys: No, no, many still love you, in fact, plenty of whispers in support of you. Then there was Sansa coming to court for you, she got on her knees, begging for you
Ned: did you laugh with them?
Varys: Laugh? You do me wrong, my lord. Your blood is the last thing I want.
Ned: I don't know what you want. I'd given up on guessing
Varys: When I was still a boy before they cut my balls off with a hot knife, I traveled with a group of actors through the free taught me that each man has a role to play. The same is true at court. I am the master of whisperers. My role is to be sly, obsequious and without scrupIes. I'm a good actor, my lord.
Ned: Can you free me from this pit
Varys: I could. But will I? No. 'Laughs' As I said, I'm no hero. 'in a whisper' thats Torrhen's job
Ned: What do you want? Tell me. No riddles, no stories. . . Tell me, what do you want?
Varys: Peace. . . Did you know that your son is marching south with an army of northmen? LoyaI Iad. Fighting for his father's freedom.
Ned: Robb? He's just a boy!
Varys: Boys have been conquerors before. But the man giving Cersei sleepless nights is the king's. . . the late king's brother. Which is good for us
Ned: Lord Stannis has the best claim to the is a proven battle commander and he is utterly without mercy. Stannis Baratheon is Robert's true heir. The throne is his by rights.
Varys: We shall see but I know you don't mean that 'tuts' Sansa pleaded so sweetly for your life. lt wouId be a shame to throw it away. Cersei is no fool. She knows a tame wolf is more use to her than a dead one. Her biggest mistake is thinking she already tamed a wolf
Ned: You want me to serve the woman who murdered my king, who butchered my men, who crippled my son?
Varys: I want you to serve the realm! Tell the queen you will confess your viIe treason, tell her how you just wanted to carry out the wish of your dying friend, tell your son to lay down his sword Cersei knows you as a man of honor. If you give her the peace she needs, and promise to carry her secret to your grave, thanks to your son, she would let you go back to your family
Ned: 'Chuckles' You think my Iife is some precious thing to me? That I would trade my honor for a few more years of. . .
Varys: Of what?!
Ned: You grew up with actors. You learned their craft and you learnt it well. But I grew up with soldiers. I learned how to die a long time ago.
Varys: Pity, such a pity? What about your daughter's life? or Torrhen's? Who will protect him then? is that a precious thing to you?
The flickering torchlight cast dancing shadows on the cold stone walls of the Red Keep, illuminating the grim faces of the two men in the dim chamber. Torrhen Stark stood with his arms crossed, his youthful features taut with an anxiety he struggled to mask. Ser Barristan Selmy, his white hair framing a weathered face, leaned against the wall, his armor gleaming dully in the low light The two had spent the last few days going over this plan, making back up plans, having a back up plan for their back up also found as many people as they could that they could trust and surprisingly, they had a decent amount of people that believed and supported them. So far, everything was going on as planned. Granted, it was only step one of a few steps but they were off to a good start.
Torrhen: You know, 'he began, forcing a semblance of ease into his voice', when I imagined coming to King's Landing, it was not like this.
Barristan: 'he chuckled softly, the sound a deep rumble in the silence'. Few ever do. The grand halls, the feasts what they don't tell you is the weight of the throne. And the shadows that lurk beneath it
Torrhen: Do you ever get use to it?
Barristan: Never. A knight learns to carry his fears, not to discard them.' his tone was steady, yet there was a glint in his eye that hinted at deeper truths' And you, my Lord? Are you nervous?
Torrhen: No
Torrhen replied, his voice firm, but the slight tremor in his hands betrayed him. He looked away, focusing on the distant torchlight, as if it might reveal a way out of the impending darkness. Barristan studied him, his gaze unwavering.
Barristan: It is natural, my Lord. Even the strongest men feel fear. What matters is how you face it
Torrhen: I won't let them see it. My father taught me better.
Barristan: Then remember this: honor and courage are not the absence of fear, but the resolve to act despite it.
Silence settled between them, the weight of their situation pressing down like a heavy shroud. They both knew the time was drawing near an execution that would shatter lives and reshape the very fabric of the realm. At last, the distant toll of a bell echoed through the halls, a grim reminder of what was to come. Torrhen turned to Barristan, determination flickering in his violet eyes
Torrhen: it is time
The knight nodded, drawing himself up to his full height.
Barristan: Then we face it together.
Torrhen: I thank you for that, Ser. For everything you have done for me, I will never forget.
Torrhen took a deep breath, steeling himself as they moved toward the door, the shadows closing in behind them. With each step, he felt the weight of his father's legacy on his shoulders. There was no turning back now.
The sun hung low in the sky, casting a fiery glow over the square in front of the Red Keep. The crowd had gathered, a sea of faces filled with anticipation and dread. Torrhen Stark stood hidden in the shadows, his heart pounding in his chest as he listened to the echoes of Joffrey's cruel laughter. On the steps of the Great Sept of Baelor, stood Joffrey, Cersei was to his right, while they waited for Ned to be brought.
Barristan: We don't have much time, 'Barristan murmured, eyes scanning the crowd.' They'll bring Ned out any moment now.
Torrhen: Once they do, it'll be chaos, 'his mind racing.' We need to create a distraction."
Just then, the massive gates swung open, and Ned Stark was dragged into the square, his hands bound and a look of defiance etched on his face. He was brought a few feet away from Joffrey on the king's left. The crowd roared, some crying for justice, others chanting his name in a futile show of support. Torrhen's stomach twisted at the sight.
Torrhen: Father 'he whispered, anguish washing over him.'
Joffrey:My mother wishes me to let Lord Eddard go home... maybe strip of all titles and powers, he could serve the realm in permanent exile. And my Lady Sansa has begged mercy for her father. But they have the soft hearts of women... so long as I'm your King, treason shall never go unpunished! Ser Ilyn, bring me his head!
Cersei: 'panicking' Don't do this Joff!
Joffrey: 'stepped forward, a wicked grin on his face, having heard his mother and people cry out. 'Bring forth the traitor! Let his blood cleanse the throne!
Torrhen: 'felt his heart drop' We have to act now! 'He turned to Barristan.' I'll create a scene to draw the guards away. You get Ned and Arya to safety."
Barristan: 'nodded, resolve etched on his face' Be careful, Torrhen.
As the guards began to close in around Ned, Torrhen took a deep breath. He stepped out from the shadows, shouting at the top of his lungs.
Torrhen: Joffrey! You coward! You think you can kill my father and get away with it?
The crowd fell silent, shock rippling through them. All eyes turned toward Torrhen, and in that instant, he saw his father's eyes widen in surprise and hope.
Ned: Torrhen, no! 'he called out, desperation in his voice.'
Torrhen: Don't worry Father! 'he shouted, his voice steady despite the fear that coursed through him' I'll hold them off! I can take them with my eyes closed
Joffrey: 'expression morphed into fury' Seize him! 'he screamed, pointing at Torrhen.' No one stands against the crown!
Guards surged toward him, Torrhen slowly backing away, leaving Ned alone, with no one paying attention to Ned, a cloaked figure came up, freeing Ned's hands, while Arya ran from the shadows and hugged her father!
Barristan: 'shouted' Protect Lord Stark! 'He drew his sword, positioning himself between Torrhen and the advancing guards'
Barristan: Go! Now!
Barristan urged, glancing back at Ned and Arya. The loyalists surrounding them moved swiftly, ushering them toward the edges of the turned to see Ned looking at him, the bond between father and son palpable.
Torrhen: I'll find you! I promise! 'he shouted, heart heavy with the weight of those words'.
As he turned to face the guards, he felt a surge of adrenaline.
Torrhen: You'll have to catch me first!
He taunted, threw an old rotten tomato at Joffrey hitting him in the face, Torrhen laughed then sprinted away from the square. Making sure he was the main focus, not Ned and Arya.
Joffrey: Stop him!
Joffrey shouted, his voice filled with rage he completely forgetting about Ned as the guards pursued Torrhen, their shouts echoing in the square.
Stay with him!
Barristan commanded, but Torrhen was already dashing down a narrow alley, leading the guards away from his father and sister. The sounds of pursuit grew louder, and Torrhen's heart raced.
As he ran, he glanced over his shoulder, the guards gaining on him. He needed to create enough distance for Barristan to escort Ned and Arya to safety. In a desperate maneuver, he darted into a side street, narrowly avoiding the guards' grasp. The echoes of shouts and clanging metal filled his ears, the chaos electrifying the air.
Back in the square, Barristan led Ned and Arya through the crowd, urgency driving them forward. Arya looked up at her father, fear etched on her face.
Arya: We can't leave Torrhen! 'she protested with teary eyes'
Ned: We have to! 'he insisted, his voice strained' He's buying us time! we must get to safety. I will not lose you too.
With Barristan leading the way, they moved through the crowd, the chaos around them serving as a cover. But as they neared the edge of the square, a shout rang out behind them.
There they are!
A guard spotted them, and chaos erupted anew. Barristan turned, sword raised, ready to defend Ned and Arya.
Go! I'll hold them off! 'Barristan shouted, giving them a fierce look.'
Ned: 'yelled' No 'but Barristan was already moving, engaging the guards with a ferocity born of loyalty.
Barristan: Run!
he bellowed, and in that moment, the bond of trust and love propelled Ned and Arya forward into the afternoon as the sun was getting close to setting. They dashed down another alley, the sounds of battle fading behind them.
Ned: We'll find Torrhen!
Ned assured Arya, though he could feel the dread in his heart. He was telling himself as much as he was saying it to Arya. As they ran, Arya looked up at her father, determination mixed with sadness in her eyes.
Arya: Torrhen will be fine. He's smart, the best warrior in the realm and he'll find a way back to us.
Ned clenched his jaw, knowing they had to keep moving.
Ned: For now, we must get north. We'll regroup with Robb. I heard he called the banners
With heavy hearts and the echoes of chaos still ringing in their ears, they slipped into the shadows of the night, the hope of reunion lingering in their thoughts. Not knowing if they saw Torrhen for the last time
The night was thick with tension as Torrhen and Ser Barristan navigated the quiet streets of a nearby coastal town. They had managed to evade the guards, but their journey was far from over. The moonlight glimmered off the water as they approached the docks, a sense of urgency driving them forward.
We should find a ship soon Barristan said, scanning the horizon. Time is of the essence, and we cannot risk being caught here.
Torrhen: 'Determine' I know a captain who owes me a favor," Torrhen replied, determination He'll take us to Pentos. From there, we can search for her.
As they reached the docks, the scent of saltwater filled the air. Torrhen spotted a familiar figure standing by a modest ship, his silhouette illuminated by the lanterns swinging in the breeze.
"Captain Morin!" Torrhen called out, hurrying toward the man. Morin turned, surprise mingling with recognition.
Morin: Torrhen Stark! I heard rumors you'd gone missing, 'his brow furrowing with concern' What brings you here?
Torrhen: There's no time for explanations. We need to leave King's Landing immediately. I'll explain everything on the way, but we're not safe yet.
Morin: 'eyes darted back to Barristan, who stood watchfully beside Torrhen'. And who is your companion?
Torrhen: This is Ser Barristan Selmy, a loyal knight. He's been big help to the safety of my family. We need your help.
Morin: 'nodded, respect evident in his posture' Of course. My ship is yours, but we must be quick. The harbor is crawling with guards, and I've heard whispers of Stark supporters being hunted.
As they boarded the ship, Torrhen felt a mix of anxiety and hope. He glanced back at the shore, the distant lights of the city still flickering behind them.
Torrhen:cWe'll find Father and Arya,
He said, more to reassure himself than anyone else.
Barristan: We will,'a sense of resolve in his tone.' But first, we must ensure our own safety.
As the sails filled with wind, the ship began to drift away from the harbor. Torrhen took a deep breath, the salty air invigorating him. They were leaving behind a world of treachery, but ahead lay the unknown a chance to reclaim their lives and find the allies they needed. The journey would not be easy, but Torrhen felt the fire of determination burning within him. With Barristan by his side, he was ready to face whatever challenges awaited them on the horizon.
The ship rocked violently on the storm-tossed waves, the sound of thunder rolling across the dark sky. Torrhen lay in his cabin, the wood creaking ominously around him as he struggled to keep his thoughts anchored in reality. Exhaustion soon took him, and he slipped into a restless sleep, the tempest outside mirroring the turmoil in his heart.
In his dream, the world had shifted to a darker place. The storm raged with an intensity that eclipsed anything he had experienced, the winds howling like restless spirits. Torrhen found himself standing at the mouth of a cave, its entrance gaping like a maw against the swirling chaos outside. A voice, soft almost motherly yet insistent, called to him from within, beckoning him closer.
Tentatively, he stepped inside. The air was thick and damp, the darkness wrapping around him like a heavy cloak. He could see nothing but the faint outline of jagged rocks, yet he felt an undeniable pull, an urgency that urged him deeper into the gloom.
As he walked, the sound of the storm faded into an eerie silence. The cave seemed to stretch endlessly, twisting and turning, but the call grew stronger, resonating through his bones. Each step felt as if he were traversing a dreamscape where time and space had lost their meaning.
After what felt like an eternity, he reached a small chamber. At the center lay a pedestal, and atop it rested an object its surface shimmering with a mesmerizing blue and silver sheen, glowing faintly in the dim light. Torrhen couldn't see exactly what it was, how big or small it was, it seemed alive like it was calling to him, pulsing with an energy that resonated deep within him
Torrhen approached it slowly, his heart racing. As he reached out, the bright blue and silver light enveloped him, spilling forth like liquid stars. It consumed his vision, washing away the darkness and filling him with warmth, hope, and an overwhelming sense of destiny.
Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the vision shifted. The bright light flickered and dimmed, and Torrhen felt himself being pulled back, the cave and its secrets slipping from his grasp.
With a gasp, he woke up, the storm still raging outside, but a strange calm settled within him. The blue and silver light lingered in his mind, its significance just beyond his understanding.
Torrhen rubbed his eyes and shook off the remnants of the dream, the echoes of the cave's call still whispering in his ears. What did it mean? He glanced out the porthole, the waves crashing violently against the ship, but inside him, something had awakened.
He had a feeling that the storm was not just outside; it was within him, too. But he did know something, he will be making one stop before heading to find her.
The small council chamber felt stifling as King Joffrey lounged on the Iron Throne, his youthful arrogance barely masking the chaos that surrounded him. His fingers drummed impatiently against the armrest, his gaze fixed on the assembled councilors.
Joffrey: Report! 'he commanded, trying to sound powerful but his voice a sharp edge of frustration.'
Grand Maester Pycelle: 'stepped forward, his expression grim' Your Grace, we have received word from the guards. They failed to capture Lord Stark or his son, Torrhen. It appears they escaped into the city.
Joffrey: 'face contorted with rage.; How could this happen? They're traitors! What about the other Stark? Where is she?
Pycelle: Reports suggest she was seen leaving with them
Joffrey: Fools! 'Joffrey shouted, rising from his seat' They should have been captured! I want them found now!
Petyr Baelish leaned back in his chair, a sly smile playing on his lips. It could be worse, Your Grace. At least you still have your loyal subjects to rally around you.
Joffrey: Worse? 'Joffrey snapped, glaring at Baelish. What could possibly be worse than losing my enemies?
Varys: 'seated quietly in the corner, interjected, his voice calm and measured' It is worse, Your Grace. Sansa Stark is missing. She was last seen with her father and brother.
Joffrey's face went pale, fury boiling over.
Joffrey: You're telling me that not only did we lose Ned and Torrhen Stark, but now we've lost Sansa too? 'He turned to Pycelle venom in his tone.' What are you doing about this?
Pycelle: Your Grace, we're organizing a search. I assure you-
Joffrey: Enough! I want them found, or you will pay the price!
As the tension in the room thickened, Varys leaned forward slightly, his eyes glinting with amusement before he spoke
Varys: Perhaps we should have paid more attention to Torrhen Stark. He earned the nickname "Shadow of the North" for a reason.
The councilors exchanged confused glances, unsure what to make of Varys's comment.
Joffrey: What do you mean? 'he demanded, his ire shifting to Varys.'
With a faint smile, Varys began to weave a tale.
Varys: Legend has it that or little whispers, Torrhen is as elusive as a shadow, capable of slipping through the cracks of even the most secure walls. When he was younger, he would often evade capture in the practice yard, much to the chagrin of his teachers. A clever boy, resourceful and bold. Sometimes as a game, they called it catching the shadow, kids would try to find him with no luck even or even their guards.
Joffrey: crossed his arms, skepticism etched on his face.' And what good is that now?
Varys: Your Grace, had we understood the implications of his resourcefulness, we might have prevented this embarrassment," 'Varys continued, a twinkle in his eye.' And perhaps, we might have thought twice about underestimating him.
Joffrey: 'glared at Varys, frustration palpable.' I want every man we can spare searching for them! I want their heads on pikes by sunset!
As the council murmured in agreement, Varys remained oddly serene, a small smile still lingering on his lips, knowing full well the chaos he had indirectly helped to orchestrate. A win for the Shadow of the North.
Varys: 'Thoughts' I can't wait to see what you do Torrhen Stark . . . . . . . .
AN:
Whatcha think?
Favorite moment of this chapter?
Ned is alive . . . . . for now . . . . or will he be alive the whole time? . . .