Interlude 3: Decisions, Deceptions and Detections

The Godswood of the Red Keep was a secluded part of the castle. It was created for those who followed the religion of the First Men, but with time, the Faith of the Seven became more prominent for the Royal family since King Baelor the Blessed became a devout follower of the faith and declared the Great Sept to be the seat for the High Septon. The Godswood remained as it was but it had lost its importance to the people, becoming a part of the Royal garden. Only people who visited the Godswood were those who seek a quiet place to sit and collect their thoughts away from the hubbub of the general populace.

The Wolfpack had quietly made their escape from the praising crowd, they had endured the admirations and accolades for as long as they could – what with Ser Jon becoming even more popular with his winnings. Every male wanted to shake the hands of the man who dominated King's tourney, while every woman wanted to get close to the man who had won quite a bit of fame and fortune. As soon as they found an opening, they made a run for it. The older attendees of that little celebration could only stare at them with amusements as they ran past, laughing like madmen, but the womenfolk let out a collective huff of frustration seeing their 'prey' eluded them once again.

As they reached the Godswood, Asher and Torrhen peeled off from the group and entrenched themselves into the greenery, keeping a lookout for possible pursuer or eavesdroppers. Jon and Robb continued to venture further into the trees. They came to a stop before an ancient oak tree that was the Heartstree of this Godswood instead of a Weirwood tree. Jon placed a hand on the tree trunk and closed his eyes.

He opened his eyes with a deep sigh and sadly shook his head, at Robb's questioning look, he answered, "Just a faint tingle. As if they are welcoming me but cannot communicate with me further than that."

The brothers made themselves comfortable on the roots of the tree. Soon, a loud caw of a raven sounded from somewhere in the leaves. Jon looked up at the branches overhead.

"It was Munnin. Asher must have seen Lord Arryn."

True to his words, a couple of minutes later, the old lord of Eyrie came into their view. The brothers got up to their feet to greet him.

"Good evening, My Lord."

"Good evening to you too, lads. Have you been waiting for long?"

"No, My Lord, a few minutes mayhaps. It was quite hard to evade all those people who wanted to have a chat with us."

Lord Arryn chuckled hearing that, "That is quite understandable. One of you is the heir to a Great house, heir to inherit a wardenship, and the other is becoming a living legend. If I am not wrong, most of the people who crowded you were of the fairer gender?"

Both the brothers blushed at that, Lord Arryn was having fun at their expenses before turning sober.

"None of them followed you, I hope?"

Jon shook his head, "We can talk freely here, My Lord. Our other brothers are keeping a watch and will alert us of anyone else's approach."

Lord Arryn nodded as he sat down on the roots and leaned back to the trunk, giving a kind smile at the young men before him.

"By your note to me, I gather you have understood why I sent you to that shop?"

"Aye, My Lord. But what we don't understand is what do you want us to do about it?" Robb asked.

"I am quite sure your brother has an inclination of my intention." Lord Arryn peered at Jon.

Jon smirked at the older man, "You want to protect the young man, Gendry. Mayhaps you even want to send him away from this place which our father aptly calls the viper's pit, for the other Baratheon bastards are relatively safer in other kingdoms, the ones who are in here are not quite so. And if I am not mistaken, Gendry is the eldest male child of King Robert. So he is the unofficial heir to the Stormlands because Lord Stannis only has a daughter and if the rumours are true, I don't think the Lady Selys Baratheon of House Florent is capable of bearing anymore child for Lord Stannis."

Lord Arryn had a pleased but surprised look on his face, he wasn't expecting the young lads to be so insightful.

"Furthermore, I believe you are aware of Lord Renly's proclivities?" Receiving a wide-eyed nod of acceptance from the lord, Jon continued, "Aye, even in far North, we heard tales about how Lord Renly is quite fond of his young squire, Lord Loras Tyrell, third son of the Lord of the Highgarden…and thus, we have reached the heart of the problem that is politics."

Robb had been listening closely to his brother, he frowned then and asked, "How so?"

"Think about it, Robb, Stannis is the next oldest brother after Robert, yet he is not the Lord of Storm's End, Renly is. I don't know what is the relationship between the brothers, but the King has quite literally snubbed his brother when he skipped him and bestowed the lordship to their youngest brother. What do you think will happen in the King's absence? There will be two factions, one supporting Lord Stannis, the other supporting Lord Renly. Add to that the relationships they had cultivated so far, House Florent from Reach in support of Stannis and House Tyrell in support of Renly. Not to mention that the Florents were spurned when the Tyrells were granted the wardenship, what with the Florents having a distinct connection with the family of the Gardener Kings and the Tyrells being the family of stewards. A civil war between two factions which will span across two kingdoms."

Robb leaned back with a thoughtful look on his face. Lord Arryn had quite a proud and happy smile beaming at Jon.

"You are making me curse Ned's name that he didn't consider me to foster you, lad." He turned to face Robb, "Your brother is absolutely right in his deductive reasoning. There will be a civil war in near future. Now, think what some opportunist individuals can do with the information that there is an elder male child of Robert, those who will back Edric Storm's claim for him being Robert's son will be challenged by this new faction who will back Gendry's claim, and I am afraid all of these will result in ending of the House Baratheon, a Great House of the realms. Some may argue that Edric is a noble-born bastard whereas Gendry is a low-born, but both of them being the King's get throws that argument in the fire."

His gaze narrowed as he turned to look at Jon, "And don't think I didn't notice your action this evening, lad. That was quite a risk you have taken there."

"Pardon me, My Lord, but what did he do?"

"Think about his actions after the jousting, think hard about his wordings."

Robb did so, and after a couple of minutes, Jon smirked as he saw his brother's eyes widening. Robb had sprung onto his feet.

"'You are the very image of your lady mother.' Oh, you cunning bastard."

Jon's smirk only widened more.

"We are the wolves, dear brother. We are meant to be cunning predators; did you forget that?"

"Fuck you, Snow!"

"Same to you, brother!"

"Language, boys!" Jon Arryn sighed as the brothers sheepishly apologized to him, "I can see why Ned had separated you two for a few years. Your antics can give grey hair even to the most patient of men."

He clasped his hands together and rested his chin on them, "Be thankful that what you have said was taken as compliments by all and leaving even the ones in the know none the wiser. But now, you have come under the direct gaze of Her Grace and her lord father. Be wary of the lioness, Jon. She will take her chance to pounce on you."

"Which is why I did what I did, My Lord. I want to have a conversation with her."

"You are taking quite an interest in the Lannisters. May I ask your reasons?"

Jon ran his hand through his hair, he looked up to the leaves of the trees which were bathed in a warm glow from the light of a dying sun.

"Lord Tyrion once told me that he has a soft spot in his heart for bastards and broken things. I reckon I have the same feelings. Tyrion, being a dwarf, is a bastard to his father's eyes. Those are his own words, not mine. And for Ser Jaime," Jon sighed and looked down to the ground, "I don't know what it is, but he is a broken man. Some of his behaviours rang true to my heart, from the time when I thought that I was a no-good leech to my lord father's home."

Robb opened his mouth to interject, but Jon stopped him, "Peace, brother. We both know that whatever issues were there, are resolved now. What I am talking about is that I could relate with the man. I tried to give him a chance, the same chance that I was given, to prove myself, to show the world that I was more than what they thought of me. I didn't do anything in hope for rewards, I just wanted to help a few suffering souls."

Lord Arryn placed a gentle hand on Jon's shoulder, "You are a good lad, Jon Snow. You are a credit to your father's name."

"Thank you for your kind words, My Lord, will you permit me to ask something?"

"Go ahead, lad."

"If I am not mistaken, your intention for us is to take Gendry along when we leave this place, to keep him safe and prepare him for any coming conflicts." Jon waited for the lord to nod his head in consent, "What I want to ask is why us? Why didn't you ghost him away to the care of one of your leal lord's command?"

Lord Arryn sighed, he had a far-away look on his face.

"What do you know about the war of the Ninepenny Kings?"

Jon frowned at this question, "Surprisingly, not much, My Lord. The library of Winterfell is sorely lacking any decent account of those days, bar the general movements of men and the result. Even the Royal library is quite curiously bereft of the same."

Lord Arryn nodded, "Not that surprising for some of us who have lived in those days, lad. What you don't know is just before that conflict, there was a strange event that baffled the seven kingdoms. Nobles died of diseases, almost as in a routine. And then there were these strange occurrences, people turning up dead or disappearing into the nothingness. Even the Maesters weren't spared. Many had fallen to ill fate or downright killed by unknown persons. The Citadel were at their wit's end. There weren't many articulate or literary men left in the Maester's Guild to record the tidings as previous Maesters did for other conflicts. But I digress, while all of these were going on, news came from across the sea during the end of King Agon V's reign, that a group of nine had banded together to form a powerful cabal, each individual claimed one specific area as their kingdoms and proclaimed themselves as kings and with a pact that they would help each other to acquire their chosen kingdoms. Maelys I Blackfyre, the last of the Blackfyres in the male line, was one such individual, and he claimed the Seven Kingdoms as his own. When they had invaded the Stepstones and made it their primary base for their invasion of Westeros, King Jaehaerys II was pushed to call for banners by his then Lord Hand, Lord Ormund Baratheon."

The boys were listening to the older man's recounting with rapt attention.

"Many young knights and lords have made their fame during that campaign - Steffon Baratheon, Tywin and Kevan Lannister, Brynden Tully, Aerys Targaryen…most of all Barristan Selmy. The then young Barristan the Bold cut a bloody path among the ranks of the Golden Company and slew Maelys in a one-on-one confrontation, ending the conflict and the Blackfyre's claim to the Iron Throne once and for all."

Lord Arryn let out a long, shuddering sigh, "Everything was alright after the wars. But the older generation – Lord Rickard Stark, Lord Hoster Tully and myself, we felt an unease in our bones. Something was brewing in the winds. We had kept with corresponding among ourselves afterwards, only to ease each other's mind that everything was indeed alright."

"What you may not know, was the fact that Aerys Targaryen, Tywin Lannister and Steffon Baratheon were quite close since their childhood. They grew up together in this city. When Aerys ascended to the throne, he named Tywin as his Hand. As of now, the then young Tywin was quite adamant to restore the Lannister legacy that received quite a blow during his father, Lord Tytos' time. He had rendered the Reynes and Tarbecks to extinction only to prove to the Seven Kingdoms that he is not like his father."

Lord Arryn peered into Jon's eyes, "You remember what I told you about the darkness that roosts in a man's mind?" Jon nodded his head, "After the debacle of Duskendale, Aerys' madness started to come to the front. He had started to see enemies all around himself. The first thing he did after recovering from his ordeal was to replace Tywin as the hand with his other friend Steffon. But he didn't leave it at that, he wanted to snub Tywin further. He knew that the lion wanted his blood to seat on the throne. Because of that and to spurn his once friend, even more, Aerys ordered Steffon to visit the eastern lands in search of a bride of Valyrian descent for his heir, Prince Rhaeger."

"By then, I had Robert fostering in Eyrie, learning that, Lord Rickard sent his second son, your father Eddard for fosterage under me as well. We were of the hope that whatever was coming, we would weather it together. Rickard and Hoster made an agreement of betrothing the Northern heir, your Uncle Brandon with the eldest Tully daughter, Catelyn."

Lord Arryn looked tired and older than he actually was, the brothers understood that retelling the past was taking a toll on the old lord. They wanted him to stop, but he ploughed on –

"I do not know if you are aware of this or not, but I have been married three times in my life. My first wife had gifted me with a strong heir, but she died giving birth to my Jonnothor. My second wife, gave me a beautiful daughter, Joanna. But neither of them lived for long. Both her and my Joanna died of a fever while Jonnothor and I were busy at the Stepstones. Not only that, but I also lost my brave and strong son on the battlefield. I returned to a home which was empty of my dearest ones."

Tears were flowing abundantly from the old man's eyes. Jon and Robb looked at each other uncomfortably, for none of them knew how to console the man.

"That is why I bestowed all my affections to the little lads who came to my home – Robert and Ned. Robert was a bright-eyed boy, albeit mischievous. I can't remember how many times I had to reprimand him for his misdeeds." Lord Arryn chuckled at the memories, "Then there was Ned, a happy but sombre child. They were complete contrast of each other, yet, they had formed a bond strong as of brothers."

"Even with all his happy demeanour, I glimpsed darkness in Robert. Which came to existence because of the birth of his brother, Stannis. As you know, every new mother tends to spend more time with their newborn babe. Lady Casanna wasn't any different. She was a lovely lady with a heart full of love, but Robert felt that Stannis stole his dotting mother from him." Lord Arryn sighed, "That resentment never went away, only grew with passing time. Then there was the ill-fated journey to the eastern lands. Lord Steffon had sent a letter to his home and heir that they were returning. They were unable to find a bride for the Crown Prince. But Steffon laughingly boasted that he found a fool who can even make his dour son, Stannis, to laugh, making Robert even more resentful of his brother."

"For all his bravery and prowess in the battlefield, Robert never grew up as a man. He is still the same lad whose mind stopped maturing after he reached his sixteenth namedays. The age he was in when his parents died. Lord Steffon and Lady Casanna were returning back to their home when their ship was wrecked at Shipwreck Bay. Killing all hundred men and deckhands abroad, only the famed fool, Patchface, emerged alive from the wreckage, but he was not the same since. Robert started blaming everything on Gods' earth on the Targaryens, the deep-seated hatred for his parents passing grew with each passing day, and it all culminated when Aerys killed your Lord Grandfather and uncle."

Lord Arryn looked to be a truly old man who had spent all his lifeforce, he held his head in his hands as he continued to speak in a raspy voice, "I knew Robert wasn't the best option to sit on the Throne. I, myself, pushed for your father to claim the seat, for he was the one who had lost the most. But you Northerners are stubborn to a fault. Ned didn't agree with me and left to rescue his sister. Hoster and I, seeing no other option, put Robert on the Throne, because the blood of the dragons flows in his veins through his Lady Grandmother, who was a Targaryen. I forced myself to take up the position of the Hand to keep some control over Robert, for I knew he was not suitable to rule the kingdoms. Better it be I who holds the reins. But now I am getting old, I don't know how long I will live. My own house faces extinction because I have no proper heir. Oh, I do have another son after so many years. But young Robert is a frail boy, and it doesn't help the way his mother smothers him. The legacy of House Arryn will rest in the hands of my sister's nephew, Harold Hardyng. Here I am, looking from the precipice to the destruction of my forefather's house, and worrying for the future of my foster son's legacy." He chuckled ruefully.

The brothers looked at each other and had a silent conversation of their own. After a few frowns and shaking of heads, they nodded their heads as one. They both got up from where they were sitting and went to their knees in front of the mentally broken old lord.

"My Lord Arryn," Jon spoke in a sombre voice, making Lord Arryn raise his head, he was surprised to see the boys kneeling before him, "You call our Lord Father your son, that, for all intents and purposes, makes you our grandfather."

Robb spoke up from beside Jon, "You have taught our father, and he, in turn, taught us your lessons. So we are what we are now due to your teachings. As your grandsons, we are indebted to you for your valuable lessons and the familial love you have shown our father and to us since we arrived here."

"Aye, My Lord, we, your grandsons, hereby give you our words, we will do your bidding to the best of our abilities. We also promise you to help your heir, be it young Robert or Harold Hardyng, we will not let the Arryn legacy disappear into an abyss."

Robb took out a dagger from his belt and sliced open his left palm, then passed the dagger to Jon who proceeded to do the same. Lord Arryn opened his mouth in alarm, but the boys remained stoic, nary a flinch of pain shown in their faces. Together, they began to intone –

"This we swear to you – we swear it by earth and water, we swear it by bronze and iron, we swear it by ice and fire!"

A gentle wind blew through the leaves, it felt like that the very earth accepted the oath the boys had just given. The old lord sat there dumbfounded by what he just witnessed.

A cawing of a raven broke the quiet reverie. Jon looked up to the leaves and nodded.

"We do not have very long, My Lord. Someone is approaching this place. But some things remain to be discussed so I will be quick and brief." He waited for the lord's nod, "Gendry cannot be seen to be leaving along with us. He needs to leave ahead, and just so he is not spotted leaving this city, we will cause a diversion to turn all eyes and ears upon us. You, My Lord, need to make sure that the lad leaves quickly once we give you the word. Also, keep an eye on the other children of the King, do not use ravens to send such instructions to Vale directly. Send a raven to our father, I hope you have a secured way that only the two of you would be aware of the content of the message?"

Lord Arryn again nodded his head in confusion, "Great, kindly do so, and tell father to send a message to Lord Royce. He is your most leal lord from what we have heard from him and the rest of the Valemen. Tell him to take Mya Stone under his care and send some trusted man to keep watch on Edric at Storm's End." Jon sighed and lowered his head, "I do not think we will have any further chance to speak alone again. So, kindly tell Lord Royce to send messages for Ser Harry and any of his trusted friends to travel to Old Town with all haste, while you yourself prepare a missive for him, sealed with your personal sigil. A raven will soon come to you with our planned diversion, please give the missive to the raven so we will have it in hand to quench any question Hardyng may have."

Voices could be heard a short distance away. The brothers got up to their feet at the sound. Lord Arryn took some time to get up on his feet. The three of them made their way out of the Godswood, passing a few nobles who had decided to venture into the King's gardens. They bowed as the three passed and received generous greetings in turn. As they neared the keep, Lord Arryn stopped in his tracks and looked around, only to see the two friends of the lads following them at a distance, they gave an assuring nod to the lord.

"I have something for your lads here. I almost forgot to hand it over to you." He took out a sealed scroll from the folds of his clothes, "This is a certificate addressed to the Iron Bank. You need to present it there to have a vault opened in your name, either of you, and a generous sum will be deposited in the said vault." He raised his hand to stop any incoming argument, "Do not argue with me on this, boys, call it a grandfather's prerogative. I need to be sure that the three of you – you two and Gendry, will be secured financially while your stay at Essos. Kindly let me do this for my grandsons." He shoved the scroll in Jon's hand.

"I will await your raven." He gave them a nod and strode away, he looked quite happy by the outcome of their meeting, as if a great burden was lifted off of him.

*Line Break*

The feast was, in one word, uncomfortable for Jon. Every noble-born woman, even the married ones, had surrounded the four friends. As much as they tried to portray their brave faces, Robb and Asher, the self-proclaimed ladies' men of the group were quite worried by the behaviours of some of those women. Women as old as to the likes of being their grandmother had pressed their bodies to the young men in what they hoped to be a rather enticing manner, but to the four, it was a very awkward and uncomfortable situation for them, more so, for the White Wolf. Jon was literally only moments away from bolting from the place when he found Lady Madelyne within his arms as they swayed to the music.

"I thought you have forgotten about me, Ser Jon." Madelyne said with a pout.

"Of course not, My Lady, I still carry your favour, after all."

Madelyne's eyes twinkled at that remark, "So, have I managed to make an impression upon the legendary White Wolf?"

Jon smiled back to her, "I don't know about being a legend, but aye, My Lady, you have certainly made an impression upon me. 'Tis not every day that I meet a woman who can interact fearlessly with my Ghost."

"Is it what you look for? Measure a person's worth by the way they react to your wolf?"

"Ah…no, My Lady, pardon me if I sound uncouth, but I have only met Northern women who are made of sterner stuff. Whereas Southorn lasses are generally…"

"Generally what, Ser Jon?" There was a challenging tone in Madelyne's voice.

"More delicate." Jon looked deep into her eyes, making her blush more prominent.

"Tell me, Ser Jon, how many of these brave Northern women have found their ways to your heart?"

"There are plenty, My Lady, it would take a while to name them all." Jon smirked at Madelyne's widened eyes. "Did that surprise you, My Lady?"

"I had thought that you were kind of shy, and your previous behaviours also supported that notion."

"Oh, and what behaviours were those, if I may ask?"

"You are easily flustered, for a warrior of your fame, it was said that you were shy as a maid for that reason only."

Jon let out a chuckle hearing that, he twirled Madelyne around the floor before once again securing her within his arms, "Tell me, My Lady, what do you see around us?" Jon indicated the room with his chin.

Madelyne frowned and cast a discreet glance around, "I see the nobles of the realms indulging themselves."

"Aye, but look closely, look at their eyes, their postures and demeanours…" Madelyne tried to do so, "What do you see now?"

"I am not sure what you want me to see, Ser Jon."

Jon sighed a bit, "While you are seeing the nobles of the realms indulging themselves, I see the lords taking measures of each other. I see the ladies casting about to ensnare a suitable betrothal for their children or themselves, I see the nobles trying their best to ask a few favours from the Crown. You may call me paranoid, you may say that I am as skittish as a mare in the densest of jungles, but do not forget, My Lady, that I was brought up as a bastard. A noble-born, aye, but bastard nonetheless. I had to train myself to notice such things so that I can avoid the very same and don't bring more shame to my lord father's name."

Madelyne opened her mouth to speak, but Jon didn't give her the chance, "We from the North, we laugh easy, we fight even easier. For we know that life could be stolen in the next moment. We fight with the last of our strength so that we can laugh the next day. Our trust is so very hard to earn, but once you earn that, 'tis quite hard to break. And if you manage to break it, you run…you run like the Others are after you. The women here who made me blush and shy away from them, try to entice me with their perfumed bodies, their painted faces. They press their teats to my arms or rub their cores to my thighs in hope that I would fall under their thrall and spill my innermost desires to them. I shy away from these people."

Once again Jon twirled Madelyne with the beats of the music before bringing her close to him, he leaned his head down closer to her, so close that their noses were almost touching.

"Then there is you, My Lady Pryor, you found your way to me that first night, accompanied by your brother, and in the subsequent nights, you have hunted me on your own. You have kept the other…vultures, for the lack of a better word, away from me. You even bestowed me with your favour even before I became a knight of the realms. As one warrior to another, I can understand your brother to a level, but you, My Lady, intrigue me. Why would a noble-born lady pursue a bastard? Why would she keep the others away in so fierce yet subtle way? What does the Lady Madelyne Pryor from Pebbles, Vale want from Jon Snow, the Bastard of Winterfell?"

Madelyne didn't take her eyes off of Jon's face, emerald orbs kept looking into the glowing purple orbs. Slowly a mischievous smile, which Jon had associated very deeply with the Lady from Pebbles, formed on her lips.

"You are a very clever young man, Jon Snow, but still, you know nothing. You shouldn't have said all these things to me if you have so much distrust about me in your heart. You should have maintained the mask of 'young man shy as a maid'. But now, you have ripped it off and presented the real Jon Snow before me, the one who is quite cunning and observant, but still a bit green to the games of thrones."

"And do you know why I did that, My dear lady?"

"Why?"

"So that we are on the same level of understanding with each other. I am from the North, and just as I said the day I arrived here, we do not shy away from saying what is in our hearts. I opened up so that we can stop dancing around each other. Oh no, I didn't mean this dance." Jon dipped Madelyne all of a sudden to make her gasp before bringing her up and snuggled to his chest once again, "I quite like the dance we are having, and who wouldn't with such a beautiful lady in his arms. I meant the verbal spars we tend to have whenever we meet. You say I know nothing, I am a greenboy to the games of throne, mayhaps I am, would you be kind enough to teach me the rules of this game?"

Twinkling green eyes looked deep into the intense purple eyes, "I might, once I know the names of the ladies who managed to have a place in your heart."

Jon laughed heartily, "You may, once I get to know the Lady from Vale a little bit more."

They stopped dancing as the music ended. Madelyne stood on her tiptoes and placed a kiss on Jon's cheek, "Oh, you will, believe you me, you will, Jon Snow."

Jon bowed down and placed a kiss of his own on the lady's hand, "Till then, I fare you well, My Lady."

[CotW]

A very flustered Madelyne Pryor searched every inch of the hall for her brother, she found him in hearty conversation with some Vale knights. She took a deep breath to centre herself and approached them.

"Pardon me, Sers, may I borrow my brother for a little bit?"

"Of course, My Lady."

Madelyne almost dragged Ser Hugh towards a secluded corner of the hall.

"Madelyne, what is the matter, sweet sister?"

"Have you had any talk with Lord Royce?"

"Yes, I did. He will be quite pleased if we ask for a place in his court. Should I hurry?"

"No brother, not yet. We will be travelling to the Old Town with the Northerners."

"The Northerners? Did they offer us such?"

"No, they didn't. But they cannot shun travelling companions who are on their way to the same destination, can they?"

"Be careful, sweet sister, the Northerners are quite dangerous to have as enemies."

"I know, brother, the wolves are truly quite fearsome."

[CotW]

All the nobles in attendance at the feast were being entertained by the drunken four young Northerners. Well, the blame could not be placed upon their shoulders alone, Lord Edmure Tully and his friends had decided to get his nephew and friends drunk at the feast as a rite of passage. Afterwards, they cheered them on as they stumbled towards the stage where the bards were performing, the four young men got up there, stood on swaying feet and started to sing 'The Bear and The Maiden' – well, Jon Snow and Torrhen Karstark sang, as they were taught how to sing, the other two only joined in the chorus. Everybody present had a merry time, even King Robert was seen to be banging his goblet on the table in appreciation. Queen Cersei had an amused smirk on her face. But Lord Hand Jon Arryn shook his head in consternation at the idiocy of the four, reminding him of the times when he dragged his foster sons by the ears from the taverns of Eyrie.

After a few more songs, the foursome stumbled off the Hall and went to their rooms on unsteady feet. Instead of going into their designated rooms, the four entered and crashed in Ser Jon's room wherever they could. They were unconscious to the world the moment their heads touched the soft surfaces of the bed or couches. The servants quietly entered the room and extinguished the lamps before closing the doors.

As soon as the doors were closed, four shadows stood up straight on their feet. They quickly divested off their garbs and changed into clothes of darker shades with hoods. One of the shadows secured the bolt of the door and stealthily, the four shadows got out of the windows and started to scale down the sheer stone walls of the keep. Their deft limbs finding hands and footholds between the stoneworks and the decorations which adorned the walls.

The shadows emerged outside of the Red Keep from a secret doorway that most had forgotten about. Almost wraith-like, the four shadows traversed on rooftops – running, jumping, sliding and avoiding every obstacle in their way with unbelievable grace.

The four shadows stopped running when they reached a dilapidated house near the port, the building was an old warehouse during the Targaryen dynasty. When the Lannister men came into the city, in their looting frenzy, they had burned it with everything and everybody inside. People avoided the building since, fearing the spirits of the dead haunting the building, trying to find a way out so they won't be burned alive.

The four sat down comfortably on the broken roof, looking over as the gentle waves of the Blackwater Bay lapping at the bottom of the pier.

"What did Lord Arryn wanted to talk about?" Torrhen Karstark's low voice sounded from one of the shadowy figures.

"Many things, some of them don't matter much, some of them do." Ser Jon's voice answered.

"Oh?"

This time Robb Stark's voice came from the darkness, he began to tell what they had heard from the old lord of Eyrie.

The four sat in contemplative silence after Robb's tale. Once again, Torrhen broke the silence –

"So, which of it matters and which doesn't?"

"The issue which doesn't matter is how I feel about the fucking stag still. Lord Arryn tells us that Robert Baratheon stopped maturing beyond his sixteen namedays. Tell me, lads, we are about to enter the same age. Which of us here resent their young siblings so much that it turned into scornful hate just for the cause that they were born? Robb, do you hate Bran and Rickon because they take the entire attention of Aunt Cat?"

Robb laughed, "No, I fucking don't. Moreover, I am thankful that they are there, they managed to somewhat get Mother's attention off of us. Don't you agree with that, Jon?"

"Aye, I do. What about you, Torrhen? You were the youngest before Little Alys was born, do either you or your brothers hate her?"

"You saw us with her, Jon. We will fucking kill anyone who even looks at her in the wrong way."

"Asher? 'Spare of the spare of the heir to the seat of Ironwrath', that was how you introduced yourself to me when we first met, do you resent your brothers for being born before or the other siblings who came after you?"

Asher took a few moments to answer, "I am not resentful towards any of my brothers or sisters. Fucking hells, it was my brothers who took time to train me, making sure I was attending my lessons…if I am resentful to anyone, it is Father. But I cannot blame him for his ways, none of my elder brothers ever received any attention from him. If I haven't met with you, Jon, and went along the madness you have dragged us to, I am not quite sure that he would have even acknowledged me as his son. He is a cunt, but also a dutiful lord. I know our house is not the wealthiest in the North, our people suffer almost as much as the Mountain Clans. But it was because of Father's thoughts and rule that Ironwrath still stands tall. I cannot blame him for his absence because he is working hard so that our people can live. I heard that our Grandfather was the same way as our Father. I can only hope that Rodrik doesn't turn the same way when he takes up the lordship."

Asher sighed and looked back at his brothers, "As for my younger siblings, they were just toddlers when I left my home to go for my fosterage at Deepwood Motte. While I love them dearly, I actually didn't get to know them. The only one who I was closer to, was my sister Mira. She left home about the same time I did, but she went to Highgarden to become a ward and lady in waiting for the Tyrell girl. I hope to see her again once we visit Old Town, only if the Tyrells deem to bring her along with them. So, no, I don't have any resentment or hate lurking in my heart for my blood siblings, and have the truest respect and love for my chosen brothers."

He extended his arm palm up towards the three and they, in turn, placed their own hands upon his, ensuring their mutual respect and solidarity without even uttering a single word.

A few minutes passed in silence, then Jon spoke once again –

"Lord Arryn says that the stag never grew up beyond his sixteenth namedays, due to the tragedies of his parent's death. But wasn't this…this madness already there before the incident? I grew up as a bastard, earning scorn for simply existing. I know what the darkness feels like, it would have been so easy to plunge into it. Then I thought about Robb, my brother; Sansa, my 'bestest' friend – her words; Arya, my little sister; Father. I never told any of you this, but I always used to spend my time before my mother's statue in the Crypt whenever I became broodier. I didn't know about her then, but sitting before her made me peaceful."

He looked up to see his brothers, they were listening to him intently, "My Grandfather was the Mad King, he killed people who displeased him. He killed my other Grandfather and Uncle. My Father, people call him the beautiful prince, the bard prince. But if you listen to Uncle Arthur, you would know that even he wasn't spared from the claws of this madness. He devoted his life chasing after a prophecy. I am not completely free from it either, I reckon. I disregard my own wellbeing and throw myself into immeasurable dangers. But Robert's madness brought the Seven Kingdoms down in chaos. His jealousy, lust, petulance nearly wiped out both sides of my family. I seek revenge, for my Father, my Mothers, my sister – the people I never got to meet. The only issues that stay my hands from seeking open confrontations right now are two reasons – One, we are not prepared ourselves. Two, for the respect of Father and Lord Arryn. The old man did his best in what he could do to take care of his sons. I cannot disrespect that. But I also do not plan to let the travesty against my family go either. Winter will definitely come for them all, with Fire and Blood."

Robb put a hand on Jon's shoulder, "Peace, brother." He indicated at his hands which had started to smoke once again.

Jon closed his eyes and took a deep breath to calm himself. He nodded his head at Robb in appreciation.

Asher tried to bring some levity into their conversation after a few more minutes of tense silence, "I couldn't help but notice that you were quite charming with a certain lady. But we all know that you suddenly become tongue-tied whenever a lady gives you the minutest attention. Care to explain this to us, Jon?"

Jon sighed and leaned back, "You all know how Lady Minerva sends me dreams of previous Champions. So far I dreamt about Theon Stark and a Reed bannerman. The Hungry Wolf gave me the location of the buried treasure and the Reed man gave me the idea to use the sleeping potion in a different way. Of late, I have been having dreams of Theon Stark, nothing too important, just he performing his duties as the King of the North and spending time with his family. I reckon his interaction with his lady wife somehow affected my behaviours? Who knows." He shrugged his shoulder.

Torrhen, the ever pragmatic one among them, asked, "What were you talking with her, if you don't mind me asking? Because I saw her quite flustered as she went in search of her brother after your dance ended?"

"I simply just asked about her motivation for hounding us, moreover, myself. I don't know how much you have heard in the feast, but I have learned quite a bit. It's a wonder what people reveal when they think you are too drunk to care."

"And…? What did you learn?"

"Quite a bit. It appears that the Pryor siblings, for all intents and purposes, are banished from their lands. Also, their lord father has suddenly become destitute right after the siblings left their keep. As far as I understand Ser Hugh is a man who lives by his sword. He won't be the one to scheme in such a way. Which leaves her sister, she does appear quite cunning, and the way she left her father after being banished from her home, also proves the ruthlessness of her character. Lady Madelyne has taken quite an interest in me. How much do you want to wager that they will come along with us on our way to Old Town?"

Asher had a thoughtful look on his face, "So we will be getting a few Valemen in our pack?"

Jon sighed, "It appears that way. Harrold Hardyng, the Heir Presumptive of Eyrie is sure to be one of them. I distinctly hope that Lord Royce uses his discretion in choosing a suitable ally for Hardyng – either with Ser Rober Royce, his son or Ser Lyn Corbray. What I have heard of those knights, they are steadfast and honourable, along with being the very image of a Vale Knight. So, there are the two of Valemen, besides the Pryor siblings, to join our little troop. Oh, and don't forget that Lord Arryn had basically fostered Gendry with us."

"Aye, that is another issue I wanted to discuss. How are we getting him out of the city without alerting the Lannisters or Varys?"

Jon smirked, "Very simple, Asher, distraction."

Asher looked confused at that, "Pardon?"

Before Jon could say anything, Robb let out an explosive sneeze, startling them all. Torrhen and Asher muttered blessing to him and turned to face Jon once again. Asher's eyes went wide as he saw Jon twirling Freedom in his hand. The axe, which was secured in his belt, had somehow found its way to Jon.

Jon winked at him, "Lord Reed will certainly be very disappointed in you, lads, that you have forgotten your lessons. Distraction or misdirection is how we are getting Gendry out of this viper's pit."

Asher grabbed for Freedom grumbling under his breath. Jon's smirk widened at his friend's antics, "What was that, Asher?"

"I said, fuck you, Snow!"

"The feeling is mutual, Forrester."

*Line Break*

The Wolfpack rose with the sun as were their norm and prepared themselves for a few hours of gruelling physical exertion. With the feast of the previous night which announced the ending of the King's tourney, their act of drunkards to entertain all and then later their excursion into the darkened city had taken its toll by the way of fatigue. People, who saw them passing, gave way, not only because they were lordlings or the King's favoured, but it was because of a certain Northern warrior. Ser Jon the White Wolf, who almost single-handed dominated the tourney had received his winnings from the King himself – a thousand Gold Dragons for winning the archery event; five thousand Dragons for securing the second place in the melee; and the biggest of the rewards, fifteen thousand Dragons for winning the jousts. In all, Ser Jon was now nearly as wealthy as a minor lord of the realms with his total earning of twenty-one thousand Dragons from the King's tourney.

They had only started with their warm-ups when they saw Ser Jaime approaching them behind an exuberant Prince Tommen and his Royal guards, but he was not there to spar with them, as it was made clear by his complete garb of a Kingsguard.

"Good morning, My Prince, Ser Jaime."

"Morning, lads. Please, do not stop your training on my account. As you can see, I am here on Kingsguard business. Ser Jon, if you kindly follow me, Her Grace has summoned you."

Jon looked at the knight with shock. Though he had expected a conversation with Cersei Lannister, he didn't think it would be this soon. He nodded at his friends and walked forward to join Ser Jaime. He tried to engage the knight in a conversation, but it appeared that the knight was tensed for some reason. When they turned around a corner and found themselves at a relatively deserted corridor, Jaime suddenly turned towards Jon, grabbed him by his jerkin and pressed him against the castle wall.

"What the fuck do you think you are doing, Jon?" Jaime hissed at him.

"I do not understand, Ser Jaime! What are you talking about?" Jon was surprised by the knight's manner.

"Do you have any idea how much of the fucking shit you are in?" He growled.

"Err…" was Jon's intelligent reply.

"First, you approach my brother and me and formed a friendship with us. Then, you kill my father's most loyal dog in front of everyone. Afterwards, you declare my sister and her daughter as your queen and princess of love and beauty. You are pulling on the tails of lions, Snow, do not think you will leave unscathed. I have grown fond of you, so have Tyrion. Trust me when I say that you are treading on very dangerous territory."

Jon removed Jaime's hand from his throat and straightened up, "Believe me, Ser Jaime, I do not have any device whatsoever concerning your family. I am grateful that Lord Tyrion and yourself have accepted me as you did. As for Ser Gregor, it was an accident. Why would have I surrendered myself for the King's justice afterwards if I had done something wrong? I even asked Lord Tywin for his forgiveness which he granted me. And tell me, who could have been a better recipient of the crown other than Her Grace? I mayhaps became a knight due to your generosity, but I am a bastard. Noble-born, aye, but a bastard nonetheless. My crowning of any other ladies of the court wouldn't have been received favourably."

Jaime sighed and rubbed his gloved hand over his face, "Forgive me, Jon. The last few days were very stressful for me. But I was indeed very serious when I said that you need to watch your steps. You have come under the scrutiny of both my sister and lord father. That is a place you do not wish to belong, ever. Why do you think I have joined the Order of the White Cloaks as soon as I could? Be very wary of Cersei, my young friend. I do not wish to know that you have been ensnared in her traps. For she was one of the reasons why I left the Rock. It is only because of Tyrion that I didn't take up the Black."

Jon put a hand on the older knight's armoured shoulder, "You have my thanks, Ser Jaime. I will heed to your words. But I truly do not think that there is a need. I do not plan to stay here for long now that the tourney is over. And quite soon, all of us will be on our way to Essos."

Jaime sighed, "I hope for your sake and your family's sake, Jon, that there is nothing to fear. You may call me unreasonable, but I feel that there is a change in the wind. Keep a very careful watch on your pack, White Wolf."

[CotW]

Cersei sat in her chambers waiting for her guest. She had ordered the servers to provide platters of food and the finest bottles of Arbour Gold to her rooms. She was reclined on the settee, drinking her wine when the knocking on her doors alerted her of her guest's arrival.

"Enter!" She called out.

Jaime opened the doors and took a step inside the room, Cersei's eyes narrowed just a bit as she observed her brother's stony façade.

"Ser Jon has arrived as per your request, Your Grace." He intoned in a flat voice.

"Ah, do send him in, Ser Jaime." She sent a smirk towards her brother. She would get him back one of these days. They were, after all, one soul in two bodies.

Ser Jon, the White Wolf entered her domain and went down on his knee, "My Queen."

Cersei waited for Jaime to get out and close the doors behind him before she got up from the settee. She slowly walked towards the young knight as she kept observing his kneeling form. She had met Brandon Stark once or twice at Harrenhal. Later, she had met with a young Ned Stark. It was indeed true that the young man before her was a Stark by his features and colouring, but somehow, somewhere, the White Wolf ignited a long-forgotten feeling within her. She was not quite sure what the feeling was telling her, but her senses were screaming at her with pleasure. A shiver ran down her spine as she went closer to the young man, she bit the inside of her lower lip to that pleasant feeling.

"Do get up, Ser Jon, a warrior such as you look better standing tall and proud."

"My Queen?" Ser Jon raised his head to look at her confused. She dug her nails in her hands to stop herself from doing anything foolish, those purple eyes of his were too alluring for her.

"I am your queen, aren't I? Your queen of love and beauty?" She tilted her head to a side and let her unbound golden locks shimmer in the morning lights.

"Aye, My Queen." His voice was unsure.

Cersei laughed, "Come, my brave knight, join me for the morning meal." She turned on her heels and walked back towards the settee, her hip was undulating in a mesmerizing way through the rather sheer Myrish silk dress she had chosen to wear this morning.

"My thanks for this honour, My Queen."

Cersei waved her hand dismissively as she sat down, "Think nothing about it, Ser Jon. I simply wanted to meet the brave knight who have won the precious crown for me. I felt that I just had to know more about you. Beyond what the tales a few drunks say or what the songs the bards sing."

She leaned forward to prepare a small platter of cheese and fruits, giving the young man an unobstructed view of the valley between her ample chest. She smirked to herself as she offered the platter to him and saw his blushing cheeks.

"I am afraid there is not much to tell, My Queen, I lead a fairly normal life, I spend most of my times in the yard with my brothers, and the rest of the time, if I am not out hunting or merely riding, I spend reading in the library. I am afraid that I am quite uninteresting."

Cersei laughed, "I am sure you are mistaken, Ser Jon. You have acquired many a title at such a young age, your lust for the battle surely shows in all the times you say that you spend in practice."

"Pardon me, My Queen, but I do not have a lust for battle. I take lives out of necessity, not because I crave conflicts. I am capable of lending my help to those who cannot protect themselves. My talent with arms, as I believe, is a duty to the people of realms, not a privilege."

The purple eyes appeared as if they were flames, burning with intensity, sending another jolt of painful pleasure throughout Cersei's body. She crossed her legs to retain some control over herself.

"Hmm, that is quite an admirable look towards life, Ser Jon. Tell me something, why did you think it best to honour my daughter as the Princess of Love and Beauty?"

"Oh, Princess Myrcella is near the same age as my little sister, Arya. I just wanted to tease her a bit. If it was Arya, I would have received a blow to my head for my action. I do apologize if I have crossed my bounds. I had no other intention, My Queen."

She let out a burst of joyous laughter, she felt quite elated and…relieved by his answer.

"Oh, she will be quite heartbroken if she comes to know about this. For long she had been eager to learn about the new adventures of the White Wolf. And she was beyond excited when she heard you are coming to King's Landing for the tourney. Do you know, she never misses your sparring sessions? But unlike my son Tommen, she observes you from her balcony."

The knight only blushed some more and smiled at her. She took a gulp of wine and assessed him once more with her eyes.

"This Arya you spoke of… I take it she is Lord Stark's daughter?"

"Aye, My Queen, she is the youngest daughter of Lord Stark. She is quite free-spirited and very mischievous."

"And what of the other daughter of Lord Stark?"

"Ah, Sansa. She is the perfect lady like her lady mother. A gentle soul."

"You are very fond of your half-brothers and sisters." She proclaimed her observation.

"Aye, they are all very dear to me."

As the conversation continued, Cersei started to see glimpses of the man behind the legend of the White Wolf. A very gifted warrior who valued honour above all else, it was not hard to understand since he was raised by that fool Eddard Stark. But where Eddard Stark was dull as stalest bread, this young man was quite sharp. His baseborn status, which his uncle so foolishly tried to maintain, made the young man quite perceptive, but inexperienced still. It must be the Dayne blood in him which attracted her to him. Cersei tried to think about a still alive Arthur Dayne, but she never was attracted to the man. She always thought him nothing more than a brute. It was definitely his mother's charm.

At the end of their meeting, Cersei allowed him to kiss her hand. That merest touch was enough to ignite a fire inside of her and her core to moisten. Her eyes fell onto her brother who was still standing beside her doors.

"Ser Jaime, will you kindly see if Ser Daven is free from his duties? I have some instructions for him to pass on from my lord father."

Jaime's eyes bore into her, but she only smiled sweetly back at him. She needed to plan carefully. She wanted the young warrior beside her – or any other position. That would show Jaime, she tittered to herself at the imagery of seeing Jaime's widened eyes as he observed his newest pupil under her thrall. But for the time being, she needed to satiate herself. She would get back Jaime, after all, Lannisters never fail.

[CotW]

Jon ran straight to his room, he wanted to have a bath. He wanted to have some compassion for the fat stag, but then again, the stag reaped what he sowed.

*Line Break*

"…We will have quite a restrictive timeframe to act. So, we must be all be prepared."

"I do not approve of this plan."

"I know, Uncle Eric. But trust me. We will see each other again, and very soon. And I promise to you that I will not be putting myself or others in any danger. You have my word."

"Uh, Wolf? What am I to do again?"

"For the love of Gods, Wade, we have been through this over a hundred times now…"

"Oh, calm down, will you? I only wanted to see if you can laugh…"

"Wade, this is not a laughing matter. You will have a young life depends on you. Your act as a fool with us is appreciated, truly, but be careful that your levity doesn't cause harm to the young lad."

"Aye, Wolf. I know. And you have my word that the cargo and the lad will both be taken care of."

"Jon, are you certain that it is wise to send this man along?"

"Aye, Uncle Eric. Wade mayhaps a tad insane, but he is very reliable."

"I want you to know, Jon, that I will be performing my duties under protest."

"Of course you would, you are one of the greatest knights in the last century, after all. Now, shall we depart?"

"Yes."

"Aye."

[CotW]

The entirety of the Red Keep was in a disarray. His Grace had thought that he would give the proper parting gift to his friend's sons by inviting them to a hunting trip, and as it was known, a King's hunting trip was always considered a Royal excursion, consisting of hundreds of men all bedecked in the best of their armours. It would take almost a week for every staff within the Keep working from sunrise to sunset just to be ready for the time the King would live for the hunt.

[CotW]

Lord Arryn sat in his solar going over the parchments before him, with the end of the tourney, the other troubles of the realms raised their ugly heads once again. The sound of a bird's wings and a raven's caw brought the lord out of his monotonous work. He looked at the window to see a raven on the windowsill, looking at him with its intelligent black, beady eyes. A roll of parchment was tied to one of its legs. Lord Arryn remembered his conversation with Ned's boys in the Godswood. He hurriedly got up from his seat and took the scroll off the bird.

Time to let the black fawn run free. – it read.

Lord Arryn reached into the draw and brought out his own missive, he looked it over once more before rolling it up and sealing it with his personal sigil. He took the scroll and tied it to the raven's leg.

"Take it to them, please…and be careful with it."

The raven shook its feathers and let out a caw in reply before flying off.

I wonder who among them had a Maester's training - thought the Lord Hand.

[CotW]

Cersei was seething, she had planned to have a few more private conversations with the handsome White Wolf before they left the city. But her oaf of a husband put a stop to that with his moronic idea of a hunting trip. Moreover, her father had somehow learnt of her interactions and had reprimanded her, quite harshly. She stood at the balcony watching over the yard as the King's party started to leave the keep. Her youngest children stood beside her. Tommen was sad to see his favourite knight leaving, but it was her daughter's despondent sigh that made her frown.

[CotW]

A small group of riders peeled off the main group as they slowly progressed through the streets of King's Landing. The smaller group quietly took a different route and reached the docks. Five men and one small boy dismounted and divided to go their separate ways. Four men and the lad went to find the captain of the ship who would set sails for White Harbour, while the last one disappeared within a tavern.

*Line Break*

He spent the evening sitting at the back of the tavern, drunk men were always the font of useful information, but what he was after, none had yet to deliver. He took a gulp from his tankard of ale when the boisterous Northerner just a few tables away from him welcomed a couple of Lannister men in a loud voice. He frowned at the sight before him, Northerners, by value, were always derisive towards the Lannisters. Even more so after the Rebellion. It was indeed quite odd to see one such man invite the Lannister men to share his table. He concentrated hard on their conversation.

Nothing, they just talked about the most ridiculously mundane things. Was it a ploy to throw off any possible eavesdropper such as himself? His resolve strengthened as he decided to keep very close eyes on the men before him.

His back and legs were killing him, he sat there at the table watching those men for almost half the night. While those fucking bastards had not paid attention to anything, he didn't dare to move or make any sound lest he missed anything amidst the cacophony of the crowded tavern.

His patience was almost at the end when finally, two of the drunks got up from the tables and made their way out of the tavern on swaying feet. The other one had gone up to one of the rooms with the giggling serving wench in his arms. He forgot about his aching back and legs and quickly stood up, threw a couple of stags on the table and swiftly followed the men outside.

He was confused when the Northerner led the Lannister man to the stable and let him pass out on some bales of hay. He wondered what was happening when the Northerner suddenly stopped pretending to be drunk out of his gourd, his mummer's farce was so perfect that even he was fooled. He saw as he signalled and a few shadows detached themselves from the darkness around and proceeded to unclothe the unconscious man. What kind of depravity have I stumbled upon? – he thought to himself as he listened to their conversation from his quiet corner. He was so flabbergasted with their act with a horse's brush that he couldn't manage to follow the shadows or the Northerner. He cursed himself for his idiocy, he should have been prepared for anything.

The next day, he was among the crowd as everyone was watching the jousting. He had seen the White Wolf dominate the archery and melee event, he even cheered along with everybody as the Lannister knighted the lad. The young man was truly a warrior who came out of the history books. He had never seen anyone such as him. The most astonishing fact was that the lad was only fifteen namedays old, he was yet to reach his majority and his true potential. As he watched, he saw the lad decimate his opponents from atop his charger. He had to give accolade to the design he chose for his armours, it was something that would induce nightmares upon his opponents.

He almost couldn't believe his ears when the herald announced the bout between the Mountain and the White Wolf. Surely they were aware that the brute of a man would kill the young lad? But to his and everybody's surprise, it was the young lad who came out the winner of that bout. Furthermore, the Mountain was slain in that bout. He didn't know if he should laugh or cry or deny what his own eyes have seen.

When he woke up the next morning, he heard the weirdest of tales - stray dogs had eaten the corpse of the Mountain. But it turned out to be a truth. There was even a trial for the men who were supposed to stand vigil over him. But the most interesting thing in the Throne Room was when the Hound had gifted the Mountain's horse to the White Wolf. He snorted to himself, everybody knew how the dogs of Lannisters were always at each other's throat. The Hound proved himself quite cunning by gifting the man who removed the bane of his existence in such a way.

He watched as the White Wolf proceeded to win the jousting, and afterwards crowned the queen and the princess. He frowned, what the fuck was going inside of his head? – he thought to himself. He had decided that he would wait around in the city till the Northerners leave. Something was going on and he wanted to know what.

After waiting for almost over a week, he heard that the fat stag had planned to send off the Northerners with a hunting trip at the Kingswood. He hid himself in the crowds as the procession left the Red Keep. He looked around and saw a few 'little birds' keeping a close watch on everything. He was about to make himself scarce from that place when suddenly his eyes fell upon one particular rider among King's party. He almost swore to himself loudly, for he could never mistake in recognizing those eyes, even with his face concealed behind his half helm and beard. He discreetly followed the men while keeping his target in his sight. He kept a lookout for any 'bird' who might catch on to his activity, but all of them were quite intently following the stag and the wolves, thus making his job much easier.

It was very hard to keep up with horseriders on foot, but thankfully the streets were crowded and he knew a few shortcuts, which kept him just in the vicinity of the group that detached itself from King's party. He watched from afar as they reached the docks and divided into two groups – four men and a young lad went one way while his target went inside a tavern. He followed him quietly. When he entered the tavern, he found his man to speak with someone, a ship's captain by the looks of his garbs. He frowned but kept watching them as the captain tucked a pouch of coins in his belt.

He followed them out of the tavern and found that the man was about to board a ship. He threw caution at the winds and ran after the man. He managed to reach him before he neared the ship and grabbed his shoulder from behind.

"Arthur!?" he hissed at him in a low voice.