Who Let the Wolves Out? Pt. 1

Jason Todd was up on a tree looking out for any advancement of the enemy forces. He was one of the scouts the Lord of Greywater Watch deployed to keep a closer look at the troops, and if possible, create mayhems in their camps. As he leaned into the tree trunk, Vinr fluttered down on his shoulder. Jason smiled at the sparrow and caressed its chest with a finger.

"Where have you gone off to, Vinr?"

The bird chirped at him and shuffled its wings. Jason was about to say something when a sound of movements alerted him. He leaned down to watch a patrol was passing by the tree he was perched upon. It was clear from the soldiers' movements that they were not used to traverse through dense forest. They were making as much noise as if a mad auroch was let loose inside of a home. Jason narrowed his eyes, why would the soldiers send out a patrol? They were supposed to establish camp just beyond the neck. Have they ventured into the forest already?

Ping!

Quest Alert!

Find the enemy camp, kill as many soldiers as you can.

Bonus Objective: Destroy the camp if the situation permits.

Jason smirked down at the men underneath him. Vinr had taken off from his shoulder. He slowly uncoiled a piece of rope from his waist, it had a long and sharp metal spike attached to an end. He was eyeing the last man in the column. As soon as the others were a few paces away, Jason hurled the spike aimed at the man. It flew with deadly accuracy and pierced the man in his neck. Jason jumped down from the tree branch he was perched on with rope gripped tightly in his hands. The man was hauled upwards by the rope, his legs were kicking in the air and his hands clawing at his neck trying to remove the spike. Jason brought out a dagger and shoved it at the man's heart, making him hang limply in the air. He let go of the rope and caught the man before he hit the ground and make noise. He dragged the corpse into a nearby bush and removed and recoiled the rope-dart around his waist.

Jason got out of the bush and darted between trees, keeping the patrol within his sight. The shadows created by the overhead leafy canopy helped him to hide within his environment. Soon, they reached a makeshift camp in the woods of the Neck. Jason thought that his hunch was correct, Southrons indeed have ventured into the Marshlands. Well, if they were eager to meet their Stranger the hard way, who was he to complain. He made a round of the camp perimeter as quietly as he could. There were about one hundred to one hundred and twenty men in that camp. Jason's orders were clear - locate enemy camps, and if possible, destroy enemy camps.

He again climbed a tree and hid between the branches. He warged into Vinr's mind and flew over the camp, trying to find a point of attack. A sudden movement at the eastern side of the camp caught his eye, he flew there to find that a lizard lion was trying to maintain distance from the annoying two legs and catch its prey. He slipped out from Vinr's skin, a plan was forming in his mind.

As quietly as he could, Jason made it to the other side of the camp, travelling from branches to branches. He perched on the tree underneath of which the lizard lion had shifted. It was almost concealed within the bushes, and from the right side of the tree, where there was a small watering hole, came the sound of some animal slurping up its after-meal drink. Jason brought out his blowpipe and aimed it at the head of the lizard lion, he had only moments to act, else the thick skin of the creature won't be penetrated by the small dart. Soon, a fox scurried out from the side of the watering hole, the lizard lion tried to snap at it, but the wily beast was too quick for it, it dodged and ran for its life. It was all the time Jason needed, he had tagged the lizard lion with his dart the moment it opened its maw. He sat back on the branch he was perched upon and leaned into the tree trunk, waiting for the fun to begin.

The lizard lion tried to slink back into the foliage, but the concoction had started its work reaching its bloodstream. It shook its head as if trying to deter an annoying insect. It let out a sound that was between a growl and a hiss and charged at the two legs, the ones that had intruded into its hunting place.

The men at the camp weren't ready to fight off an enraged lizard lion. They had heard about these ferocious creatures and kept a safe distance from them, but one had found its way into their camp and was attacking anybody it could get its teeth, claw or tail on. They had forgone their heavy plate armours in the humid environment of the marshland and favoured leather armours, but now it seemed detrimental to fend off the attack of the bloody creature. It also didn't help when some of their men started to attack them in a blind rage. Could the creature be poisonous that its teeth or claws turned the men into unthinking, bloodthirsty monsters? The more they tried to fight for their lives, the more they cursed their lords for their ambition to invade these Godsforsaken lands. Everything in these lands, from the water to the animals were fucking death traps.

Jason had changed his position the moment the commotion brought all of the camp's soldiers out of their tents. He went to the opposite end and fashioned a ball of dried reed, leaves and vines. He poured the sleeping potion on it and got ready for the perfect moment. As soon as he heard the noise of the small skirmish dying down, he lobbed the ball into the unattended main campfire and ran away from the place. By his calculation, it would take about an hour for the fume to act its magic. He chose a high branch from where he could keep the camp in his sight from a safe distance, and brought out his dagger and started to whittle the piece of wood he had in his pouch to a figurine of a dragon, his little brother demanded that he gave him a dragon.

After about an hour, Jason put his carving into his pouch and the dagger back in its sheath. He wrapped a piece of cloth around his nose and mouth and started to slowly advance towards the enemy camp by the ways of trees. He reached the camp border and as he had expected, most of the men who were still alive after the battle with the lizard lion, lying about on the ground as if drunk out of their gourds. He smirked behind his mask and switched his magical blades out, it was time to finish his lord's order.

When Jason left the campsite and trudged back on his way to the keep to report on his mission, only a handful of Southrons left alive in that camp of hundred. The lucky bastards would get up in the morning and would find their fellow soldiers massacred all around the camp. Legends would be told of this night, how the entire world had come alive to protect the North from invasion. Even the shadows of the night were dangerous enough to slay over eighty soldiers in their beds.

Ping!

Quest Completed!

Find the enemy camp, kill as many soldiers as you can.

Bonus Objective Completed: Destroy the camp if the situation permits.

[CotW]

Jon woke with a start, he needed to have a moment to understand where he was, for just a few moments ago, he was traversing through the woods of the Neck. The constant motion under his back and the sound of waves crashing against wooden planks reminded him that they were on a ship onwards to Kings' Landing. He shook his head to clear the fog of sleep. They had heard stories from Lord Howland about the legend that an unknown Crannogman scout had created among the invaders that they were afraid to even set a single foot into the marshlands. Who would've thought that the unknown scout was once a Champion?

Jon got up from his bed and nudged Torrhen to wake him up. Robb and Asher were sharing another cabin opposite of them. As he started to change his clothes for the day, he thought back on his dream, the rope-dart thing the scout used, it seemed a very useful weapon to have. He needed to put some thoughts into it. Ghost nipped at his heel as he went out of the cabin.

"Come on, boy." He called for him to follow. The wolf got up and slowly made his way out of the cabin, the voyage didn't agree with the wolves, Ghost and Grey Wind spent most of their times hiding inside of the cabins. He knocked at Robb's cabin door to wake them up and made his way up to the deck. Ghost whined a little as they came into the chilly wind of the open sea, if the ground moved under his paws, his brave direwolf acted like a scared puppy. Jon scratched behind his ears and went to the railings. He was glad that this time around they didn't suffer from sea-sickness. They could only take so much of Robb's boastings.

Jon took a lungful of fresh sea air. He watched as their ship moved forward through the waves, thinking about the events from the past few days.

He had gone to Lord Reed with his proposal of administering the Weirwood paste to Jojen. He told them what to expect and how much a pain it was for them to later get their head on straight again. Lord Reed asked scores of questions before he allowed Jojen to eat the paste. As expected, he went into his sleep like trance for nearly a day. When he woke up, he wasn't the same stony-faced lad Jon had come to expect, there were signs of life in his visage, Lord Reed too was pleasantly surprised to see his normally sullen son's smiling face. Lady Jayna sobbed holding Jojen close to her breasts as her son was finally acting like a child that he should. Poor Maester Luwin didn't have any inclination of the happenings, he prescribed some medicines for soothing stomachs of little children to a bemused Lord Reed, saying that the correct application of the medicines would help Jojen to become more lively.

They had departed from Greywater Watch after a couple of days to go to White Harbour. Ser Arthur, quite obviously, had joined their group. Now that he finally met with his prince, he won't let anybody keeping him from the side of his royal charge. As they were leaving, Jojen told Jon to expect a raven from him sometimes during their stay at Kings' Landing. Which will help them to decide on their journey. Jon had grumbled good-naturedly about seers and their vague instructions.

Their welcome at the White Harbour was marked with a feast. Although, if rumours were to be taken into consideration, Lord Wyman was heard to throw one feast per week, it could have coincided with their arrival. Still, Robb was greeted as if a son was returning home after a long time. Ser Wendel had praised the four to all who would listen after his return from Skagos. They were seated as guests of honour at the high table that night. Lord Wyman's other granddaughter, Wylla Manderly, had planted herself at Robb's side while the other three were mobbed by various ladies of the extended Manderly family. The wolves were greeted with much adoration. Stories had travelled to far and wide about the four carrying the she-wolf on their horses, and when they saw the fluffy wolf pups the size of small hounds, the ladies cooed at them, brushing their fingers in their soft furs. Ghost and Grey Wind didn't leave their human's sides much for the fears of the weird female two legs.

The next day, Robb and Jon had a meeting with Lord Wyman. The cousins presented the lord with a letter from Ned where the Lord of Winterfell had commissioned the Manderly lord to build two cargo ships and two galleys. Lord Wyman had listened with utmost interest as Robb describe the plans of establishing a trading port at Skagos and making deals with Essosi merchants. The fat lord was quite an adept economist, he had provided a few insights and small changes to the initial plan which would prove more profitable for the North. He accepted the commission to build the ships and promised Robb that he would contact Lord Stark with his additional ideas and would provide help with establishing business relation with the eastern lands.

They had boarded a ship bound for the Capitol three days later. They knew that they would arrive at Kings' Landing quite early for the tourney, but they wanted to explore the most famous city of Westeros before it became too crowded to walk. Jon was worried that someone the likes of Ser Barristan or Ser Jaime might recognize Ser Arthur, but the knight assured him that the nobles at Kings' Landing didn't pay any attention to the staff on principle, thus, he would be quite well hidden among the men as a captain of the troop so long that he didn't come to the throne room.

Jon was of two minds to tell the knight what they had concocted back at Winterfell to explain his purple eyes. But he had to tell him, as it would be quite insulting otherwise to the man's deceased sister.

*Flashback*

Jon found the man standing at the prow of the ship watching the waves break against the ship's hull. He went and stood beside him.

"Good morning, Uncle Eric."

Arthur smiled down at him. He quite liked when Jon called him uncle.

"Good morning to you too, Jon."

Jon was trying to think about how to broach the subject. Arthur noticed his restlessness and asked –

"Something is on your mind this morning, Jon?"

"Aye, Uncle. But I don't know how to bring up the subject as it is quite sensitive."

Arthur turned around to face Jon, "Just say it out loud, Jon. I think I can handle it."

Jon took a glance around to ensure that they were by themselves at that part of the deck, then he told him about how there were rumours that people thought of him to be Brandon Stark's son by Lady Ashara. Now that his eyes have turned purple, they had decided to discreetly encourage the rumour to keep his identity hidden for as long as they could. Arthur had turned back watching the sea as Jon was talking to him. His hands had turned white from the tight grip he had on the railings.

"I am sorry, Uncle. We had no idea about you…well, you know…"

"You didn't know that I am alive and since there were people who have already speculated about the relationship between my sister and your uncles, you thought you could just confirm their assumptions with detachment, by neither confirming nor denying the rumours. Am I right in my way of thinking?"

"Aye. I am sorry."

Arthur sighed and dropped his head on his chest, "What you don't know Jon, that there was indeed a relationship formed between Ashara and your Uncle Brandon. They fell in love at Harrenhal and kept in contact through ravens. As far as I know, Brandon travelled quite early for Riverrun so that he could confess to Lord Hoster. The marriage between the Tullys and Starks were already discussed throughout the realms apart from the rightful reason of the union between two Great Houses, what with Lord Tully's ward challenging Brandon to a duel to the death for Lady Catelyn's hand. Ashara had told me that Brandon was even ready to denounce his claims as Heir of Winterfell for his younger brother Eddard's favour. He had noticed how Eddard seemed to be quite keen to spend time with the then Lady Tully. Brandon wanted to cancel his betrothal, but then, the ill-advised charges against Prince Rhaeger by Brandon Stark happened and he was thrown into the Black Cells. Ashara visited him there in secret, quite frequently I might add, and inevitably, she became pregnant with Brandon's child. The ever-thoughtful Princess Elia, sensing the volatile situation of the political climate as well as Ashara's growing belly, staged a fight between the two of them and made Ashara leave Kings' Landing so that she can be secured in her home at Starfall with the child in her womb."

Arthur had a glazed and faraway look on his face. His voice shook the next he opened his mouth, "Afterwards, ravens were inspected or getting lost. I didn't know anything till news reached us at the tower that war had broken out due to the Mad King's deeds. Rhaeger left us to guard the princess, who had become heavy with you. I prayed to the Gods for my sister, my unborn niece or nephew, my friend, the princesses. I prayed to them for keeping them all safe. Then, one day, your Uncle Ned visited us." He chuckled mirthlessly, "I was just a couple of days behind them travelling, you know? When I reached near the castle of Starfall, the place was buzzing with the rumours that the beautiful Lady Ashara had thrown herself off from the Palestone Tower to the sea. I didn't want to bring the Capitol's notice upon Ulric, my brother, so I sneaked into the keep, I wanted to know exactly what happened to my little sister. There, I found that Ash had given birth to a little girl, but she was stillborn. She went into premature labour when news of Brandon's death had reached Starfall. Losing her love and her child not that long apart drove her into madness. When Ned Stark reached Starfall with Dawn and the news of my demise, that was the last thing for her already fragile mind."

Jon stood there horrified, listening to the man as he lamented about his sister's death.

"How many more?" He croaked.

"What?"

"How many more lives were destroyed? My parents - all three of them, my sister, Uncle Brandon, Lady Ashara, yourself. Viserys and Daenerys, Grandfather Rickard…all of these lives were scattered to the winds because of a few men playing the game of thrones. I can't help but think that my birth was a cursed one."

Arthur squeezed his shoulder, "Your parents loved you, Aemon. Never doubt that. But yes, it is true that however wrong steps were taken by them, it was others who had moved the pieces of the Cyvasse from the shadows and tore our families apart…"

"…and I intend to find them and tear their still-beating hearts from their breathing bodies." Once again Jon's eyes have taken to look like small purple flames.

"Calm down, Jon. You don't want to have an outburst right here in the open, do you?"

Jon took a deep breath to calm himself down, "Aye, Uncle Eric, you are right."

*Flashback End*

Jon found Arthur and Maester Luwin in deep conversation. The old Maester had taken a liking to the knight, although he didn't know of his true identity, but he was glad to find another dual wielder and hounded him with questions to reflect upon his research. Arthur was amazed at the technique the Maester adapted into training Jon with his use of his offhand weapon. They smiled at Jon as he approached them.

"Ah, you are up early, as usual, Jon. Go and get your friends ready, we are not that far from the Capitol."

"Really? How can you tell?" Jon saw nothing but water around him.

Arthur smirked, "' Tis all about experience, lad. Don't worry, you will know pretty soon, or better yet, your nose will inform you."

Jon nodded and rushed back down below the deck, yelling at the others to get a move on. After about fifteen minutes, they gathered on the deck as the ship sailed by the Blackwater Rush to the docks. Maester Luwin pointed out the prominent buildings beside the Red Keep, such as the Great Sept of Baelor or the Dragonpit. As they neared the city, the air became heavy with an ungodly stench.

Asher coughed and covered his mouth and nose by hand, "Interesting places you drag us into, Jon. If we are not freezing our balls off, we are being choked with the stench of shit." Everyone snorted at his remark.

Maester Luwin was but a cautious man, moreover, Lord Stark had entrusted him with the charges of his sons. He chided Asher, "I would refrain from making such japes within the hearing of the resident nobles, My Lord Asher. You never know who will take offence."

"Aye, Maester. I will be careful in future."

Luwin nodded and pointed at the dock, "It appears that we have a welcoming party awaiting us. If I am not mistaken, the man in the white cloak is Ser Barristan Selmy, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard."

It was true, as young heir and bastard son of Lord Stark, the Northerners didn't rate anyone from the Royal family to welcome them, that was quite understandable, though Jon expected that Lord Arryn may come down to welcome his foster child's sons. Arthur cleared his throat –

"I will see to the men and make sure that they are ready to disembark." He gave a pointed stare at Jon, who nodded in understanding, Arthur didn't want to face Ser Barristan.

As the party disembarked from the ship, Ser Barristan approached them, keen eyes assessed all of their faces, though he did a double-take when his eyes fell upon Jon. He controlled himself and unerringly addressed Robb.

"Lord Robb Stark, I presume?" Robb nodded his head, "I am Ser Barristan Selmy."

"Of course, Ser. Who wouldn't recognize Barristan the Bold? Kindly allow me to introduce my companions – These are Lord Torrhen Karstark of Karhold, Lord Asher Forrester of Ironwrath. This is Maester Luwin. The good Maester is here to act as a chaperon for us, as our lord father doesn't trust, in his words 'rambunctious boys'." Ser Barristan chuckled at that, "and finally, my brother, Jon Snow."

The knight peered closely at him, "The famous White Wolf, yes, lately the bards have been singing quite a few songs about you."

Jon felt his cheeks warm under the scrutiny of a legendary knight like Ser Barristan. He ignored the snickering of Asher and Torrhen and bowed to the knight. "They exaggerate, Ser. I hope they are not spreading embarrassing tales about me."

"The latest I heard was about the White Wolf prowling in the night so that the maidens can kip and dream of their saviour."

Jon could only groan at that. It was quite hard for the other three to not burst out laughing at his expense.

"If you will allow me, My Lord Stark, I am here to escort you to the Red Keep. Lord Hand would have come to greet you in person, but he was held back to perform his duties. His Grace is waiting eagerly and asked me to present you to him at the earliest."

Ghost and Grey Wind chose that moment to come down from the ship. The wolves ambled forward and came to stop beside their humans. Ser Barristan looked warily at them and cleared his throat.

"Pardon me, Lord Stark, but are those…?"

"Aye, Ser Barristan, they are direwolf pups, our companions."

Ser Barristan nodded. The pups were already as big as any hounds he had seen; he could only imagine the size they will grow into once they fully matured.

"While I do not doubt that you have perfect controls over them, I don't think it will be prudent to bring them along as you present yourselves before His Grace."

Robb opened his mouth to argue, but Jon gave him a slight jab to keep quiet. "Of course, Ser, we understand. If you will excuse me, I will leave them with our captain of guards." He gave a short bow and turned on his heels. "Ghost, to me."

The white pup turned away and followed Jon, reluctantly, Robb ordered his companion, "Go with them, Grey Wind."

Jon took the direwolves to where Arthur was standing behind a few men. He tried to make himself as inconspicuous as he could with bent back and slumped shoulders. He watched with anxious eyes as Jon approached him.

"What is the matter?"

"Ser Barristan thinks its best if the wolves do not come with us. Would you keep an eye on them, Uncle Eric?"

"Of course, Jon." He leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "Watch out for any trouble, I will not rest till you come back." Jon nodded and went back to join the others.

They got up on the horses that Ser Barristan had brought with them. Jon glanced back at where their men had gathered. Arthur gave him a discreet nod from within a knot of soldiers. Ser Barristan asked them to not worry about the troop as they would be taken care of. As they rode, the knight pointed out various places to them on their way, such as – the Fishmonger's Square, Street of Steel, the far-away tops of the Sept of Baelor and the Dragonpit. Jon's eyes were trained on the people on the road rather than the attractions. He had never seen these many people congregated at one place. People from all over Westeros, easily discerned by the clothes on their backs or the way they looked. Children stood by the roads looking at their procession with wide eyes, Northmen were not that common in these parts of the land. Some even pointed at him, whispering excitedly behind their hands, because he was quite distinguishable for his white wolf kerchief which he had always taken to proudly wear on his arm.

Soon, they neared the gates of the Red Keep. Massive doors made of bronze and adorned with iron spikes opened for them with the groaning sounds of metal. They had passed what was called the Traitor's Walk on the way to the gates, Ser Barristan pointed the spikes jutting out of the ground and told them stories about how the previous Kings had displayed the heads of their enemies on those spikes. As they passed through the gates, they looked around the keep. It was made of pale red stone, thus the name of the castle. Though it was smaller in size than that of the castle of Winterfell, seven massive towers crowned by iron ramparts were erected around the castle. Massive curtain walls surrounded it, thick stone parapets, about four feet high at places protected the outer ramparts. The walls and the gates were manned by men wearing gold cloaks of the City Watch. The knight led them through cobbled inner yards to a set of the winding staircase which he called the serpentine steps. He pointed out to them the Tower of Hand, Maegor's Holdfast, the Small Council chambers and other buildings of the likes. He had told them that they were the firsts among the guests to visit the Capitol for the tourney. Other nobles would arrive as the time nears for the festivities.

After strenuous climbing on the winding steps, they finally arrived before the gates to the Throne Room. A member of the Kingsguard stood vigilant beside the door, who offered a nod to Ser Barristan as they passed. "Ser Arys Oakheart." The knight muttered to his charges. Quite a crowd was gathered inside of the Throne Room. The King was sitting on the Iron Throne, on his left, sat the Queen on an ornate chair. An old man who Jon guessed to be Lord Jon Arryn, Hand to the King, by the sigil of a falcon on his doublet, was standing at the right side of the throne. The nobles were whispering among themselves as the Northern party entered the Throne Room, some of them were standing on their tiptoes to get a good look at them.

Ser Barristan indicated them to follow and approached the throne which was situated atop an iron dais with high and narrow steps. He bowed from the waist to the King while the foursome and Maester Luwin got down on one knee with bowed heads.

"May I present, His Grace, King Robert of House Baratheon, the first of his name, King of the Andals and the Rhoyner and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and protector of the realm, defender of the faith." He turned to the King, "Your Grace, allow me the pleasure to present to you Lord Robb Stark, eldest son and heir to Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell, Lord Torrhen Karstark of Karhold, Lord Asher Forrester of Ironwrath, Jon Snow, Lord Stark's natural son and acting as their chaperon, the good Maester Luwin."

King Robert waved his hand dismissively, "Yes, yes, we all are aware of our titles. Come on, lads, up on your feet. Let me get a good look at Ned's whelps."

As Jon got up on his feet, he took a quick look at the faces before him. The King was looking at them with hungry eyes as if they were juicy morsels. Lord Arryn had a curious look on his face. The Queen looked down on them with a small frown. Jon couldn't deny that Queen Cersei was indeed one of the most beautiful women he had seen in his life, if not the most beautiful. But He thought her beauty was marred by the subtle sneer that formed on her face when her eyes fell upon him. Another member of the White Cloak stood by the Queen's side, his golden hair and features matching with the Queen told Jon that it was Ser Jaime Lannister, the White Lion…or the Kingslayer to some.

"Ah, yes, Robb Stark, my namesake. You favoured the looks of your mother, didn't you, lad? The beautiful Lady Catelyn. How is she faring in that cold? And what about Ned, how is that dour fuck?"

Robb bowed his head, "They are quite happy and healthy, Your Grace. Our lord father had sent his regard and asked me to convey his apologies that he couldn't come for a visit as the North needs its Lord at this moment."

"Yes, we have heard about the Skagosi invasion." Robert nodded and turned towards Jon, "and you've been at the thick of things since the beginning, haven't you, lad? By the Gods! look at him, Jon! He is as if Ned and Brandon put together, only his…" he trailed off with a frown as he looked into Jon's eyes.

Jon bowed his head, "Aye, Your Grace, Lord Stark tells us how I favoured the Stark colouring unlike my brother Robb here."

Jon Arryn had a calculating gaze on his face, "But you also inherited some features of your mother, lad."

"I wouldn't know about that, My Lord, for I have never met her and Lord Stark is very reluctant to talk about her."

"Yes, Ned would be like that, considering the history…"

"Yes, yes, we can all discuss Ned's romps at a later time," Robert cut him off, "what I want to know is about the lads' adventures. Tell me, White Wolf, you have been into bloodbaths. How was it like?" A very eager and disturbing look formed on his face.

"It makes one very aware of his own mortality, Your Grace." Came Jon's solemn reply.

The gathered crowd collectively became very confused. They had expected boastings of their prowess in battle, telling tall tales to inflate their egos while expecting all to praise them to high heavens, but these four young Northern boys had very dark looks upon their visages as if the memories of the battles were not of glory, but nightmare-inducing and they couldn't shake off the images from their minds any sooner.

"What?" Robert was unprepared for such a reply.

Jon had his head bowed and shoulders slumped, in a low but clear voice he started to speak –

"Pardon me for being blunt, Your Grace, as these words of mine mayhaps not suitable for some of the present lords and ladies, but I am from the North, I don't know any other way of speaking than speaking my mind. I have heard some of the stories they were saying about the battle of Bear Island. I can assure you, My King, it was nothing as heroic or glorified as the songs made it to be. We were fighting, every man and woman there were fighting to protect their homes, and it was ugly, filled with blood and gore and screams from the dying souls. I, myself, was often trying my hardest to keep the man beside me alive. Sometimes, they were my brother, Lord Robb or my friends, Lords Asher and Torrhen, sometimes, the man beside me was a soldier who was just following my command. I do not want to dishonour the sacrifices they have made, but they expected us to protect them. As commanders of the troop, we felt liable for every life lost under our commands. I still remember Jared and Aaron – two otherwise unremarkable but brave Flint soldiers, who stood shoulder to shoulder with Asher and I and two others when we faced the Ironborn reavers who attacked the homes of innocents in the darkness of the night. They followed my lead to fight against immeasurable odds and lost their lives in the process. I can only pray to the Gods that they grant me the courage when I come face to face with their families and ask their forgiveness for leading their sons to death."

The entirety of the Throne Room fell silent after Jon finished his speech. Maester Luwin was trying to glare at Jon amidst the incredulous stares that were aimed at him, exceptions were Lord Arryn, who had a proud look and small smile on his face; Sers Barristan and Jaime were giving him appreciative nods; the Queen was looking at him with a frown of clear disdain, but there was something else in her eyes, a glint of some kind as if she was seeing him in a new light while the King was opening and closing his mouth like a fish.

The silence was broken by the sudden, booming laughter of the King, "Ned's boy through and through, eh, Jon? Your lord father was like that, lad. No matter how much skill or bravery he showed on the battlefield, at the end of the day, he would mourn for the lives lost. But if you heed my words, try to enjoy the praises that you have earned. Songs are being sung in your names. The White Wolf, steadfast in his duties and protector of the innocent, the sword of justice, stalks anyone who would cause harm – these are the legends that you created. I am sure Ned is very proud of you two. But I would advise you to not become like him, embrace your legacy, take pride in it. The womenfolk prefer their men with stories of bravery." He winked at them and laughed at his japes.

The Queen shifted in her seat as if trying to put some distance from the vile man that sat on the Iron Throne. Lord Arryn cleared his throat and tried to steer the conversation on a different path –

"Ah, yes. You are quite early to arrive for the tourney. I am afraid you have to wait quite a while for the festivities to begin."

"Aye, we know that, My Lord," Robb gave the man a wicked smile, "we have heard so much of the Capitol that made us want to explore it to our heart's content. Father indeed tried to stop us from leaving as soon as we did, but we wanted to see the sights of the known world, and couldn't wait any longer."

Robert sat forward, "Oh? And where do you plan to go from here?"

"Oldtown for sure, Your Grace. Maester Luwin wanted to present his findings at the Citadel. Afterwards, we plan to travel to Essos."

"Bah, the stuffy Maesters won't hold many excitements for lads like you. Go to Stormlands. Consult with Renly, he can tell you of the sights you can explore there." His eyes took a faraway look, "You know, your father and I planned to travel just like you. We wanted to see the Free Cities, the Giant of Braavos. We badgered Lord Arryn here with our questions and begged him to arrange such a tour for us. Remember that, Jon?"

"Yes, Your Grace."

"Go on then, lads. This here is the boring parts of the ruling. You don't need to remain here. Go and take loads off your feet. Jon, where are they staying?"

"I have arranged for a manse outside of the Red Keep for Lord Stark and companions, Your Grace."

Robert frowned, "Why? We have perfectly good chambers here at the Maidenvault. Put them up there."

Queen Cersei voiced her opinion, "My love, mayhaps we should hold those chambers for the guests who would be arriving in the coming days. Lord Hand has already made arrangements for our Northern guests, after all."

"And who is this more important guest than the sons of my best friend? Do not speak about things that you don't know of, woman." He turned to Lord Arryn, "Jon, see to it immediately."

Cersei seethed while Lord Arryn bowed his head, "Of course, Your Grace."

"Go on then. Go and explore the keep. When I was your age, I went to Eyrie for my fosterage. The first thing I did there was exploring the keep for any kind of secret that I could find. Remember that, Jon? You tanned my hide for hiding out in a faraway corner for an entire day trying to find a secret tunnel that never existed. Hah, those were the good times. Kingslayer! Go with them. You are young enough for them to not feel bored out of their gourds. Show them around."

Ser Jaime gave an exaggerated bow, "Of course, Your Grace. By your leave." He climbed down the steps towards the Wolfpack. "If you would follow me, My Lords."

They bowed low to the King and went out of the Throne Room after the knight.

Jon, while walking beside the knight, tried to get a feel of the knight's personality. "We are sorry that you are stuck with us boys, Ser."

Jaime smirked at him. "Think nothing of it, Snow. We are, after all, servants to the throne."

"I was wondering if you would permit us enough to grant a favour, Ser?"

The knight raised an eyebrow at him, "Already? Normally people stutter and dance around some more before asking us Lannisters for any favours."

"We are from the North, Ser, we speak what is on our minds."

"Very well, Bastard, ask away." He watched as Robb and the others bristled at that, "Did I offend you? Didn't you just say that Northerners preferred to speak what is on their minds? I thought I may as well try that."

Jon shook his head subtly at the others. "Of course not, Ser. You speak the truth. We shouldn't shy away from who we are, bastards or Kingslayer."

Luwin coughed in warning, Jaime frowned at him, "Quite a sharp tongue you have there, Bastard. I would be careful which words they utter if I were you, especially in a place as dangerous as Kings' Landing. Anyway, we have deviated from our topic. What is the favour you were speaking of?"

"Well, we were wondering if we could have a spar with you at some time in the future. It is not every day that we meet with a warrior of your skills."

Jaime appeared thoughtful as they walked in silence for a few paces. Finally, he sighed and nodded his head, "Why not. All I have here is either Barristan the old or other idiots who feel they are entitled to the White Cloak. It will be interesting to lock blades with you, White Wolf…" he gave them all a smirk, "You have your favour, Bastard."

As they continued down the serpentine steps, they came face to face with a man who hurried his way up the steps. He had a thin built and wore a pointy beard and thin moustache, a pin in the shape of a mockingbird was fastened on his breast. As his eyes fell upon them, a condescending smirk formed on his face. Jon had to stifle the sudden urge of sending the man down the steps with a kick at his middle.

"Ah, the news was indeed true then. Our Northern friends have finally graced us."

Jaime frowned at the man, "Weren't you suppose to already be in the Throne Room for today's meeting, My Lord?"

The man turned towards Ser Jaime, "I was, Ser Jaime, but unfortunately some of us have to earn their living. I had to attend to a few things that ate away most of my morning today. I finished as soon as I could when I heard that Lord Robb has arrived, along with Lord Eddard's…bastard." A subtle sneer formed on his face.

Robb narrowed his eyes at the man while Jon bowed low, he understood the subtle verbal jab the man threw the knight's way. He decided to play his tune back to him, "Pardon my ignorance, My Lord, but you are…?"

"Lord Petyr Baelish."

"Ah, of course, Lord Baelish of…" he scratched his head as if trying very hard to remember where the lord hailed from.

"Lord Baelish of Baelish Keep." Irritation was evident in the man's voice.

Jon frowned and turned towards Robb, mouthing the words "Baelish Keep?"

Jaime stood back watching the interaction with a smirk on his face, Lord Baelish was very much irritated by then, he forgot his smile and spoke through greeted teeth, "It is a small keep situated in the Fingers…of Vale. You do know of Vale, I hope."

"Of course, My Lord, I beg your forgiveness. But it is indeed shameful that the Heart of the North, Winterfell doesn't have its library as updated as we all thought to keep a record of even the smallest homesteads. Why, just before you arrived, Ser Jaime was telling us about the vastness of the library at Casterly Rock, and we inadvertently went into a debate of which castle or family can boast of the most enriched history between Winterfell and the Rock."

Lord Baelish decided to ignore Jon at that moment and turned towards Robb, "I had hoped that your lady mother has spoken about me. We are, after all, old friends."

Robb had cottoned on what Jon was trying to do, he frowned at the man, "You were? I am sorry, My Lord, but I cannot, for the life of me, recall Mother ever mentioning your name."

Baelish frowned at that, "She didn't? We grew up together at Rivurrun…"

Jon chimed in from Robb's side, "Ah, aye. You were the ward of Lord Hoster." He gave an elbow jab to Robb, "Don't you remember, brother, Lady Stark talked about the lad who challenged Uncle Brandon?"

Robb widened his eyes as if he suddenly remembered, "Aye, she did. You challenged Uncle Brandon for Mother's hand in marriage and in the ensuing duel, Uncle Brandon gelded you. Mother was saying something about you working in a whorehouse now…"

Jaime had to turn away lest he laughed out loud at the horrified and incredulous face of Petyr Baelish. They could feel that Asher and Torrhen were trying very hard to keep straight faces behind them while Maester Luwin was spluttering. Baelish' face and neck had turned red, but whether due to embarrassment or rage, that was up for debate. He chewed out his next words through his teeth –

"He didn't geld me, and I own a few brothels but I don't work in there. I am the current Master of Coin for His Grace."

Robb gave him a deep bow, "I am truly ashamed, My Lord Baelish. But we had heard these stories so long ago, and then we went on our fosterage without any visits for a long time…stories from our childhood simply slipped out of our minds. Please, forgive us that our memories have failed us."

"Aye, My Lord. We didn't intend any slight towards you, we beg your forgiveness for any misunderstanding."

Baelish gave them a stiff nod, "I am afraid that I have to cut our conversation short. I am already quite late for the meeting. We will again converse sometime soon."

He walked around them and hurried his way towards the Throne Room. As he disappeared through the doors, Jon blurted out in a very innocent voice –

"I hope we didn't offend him too much, did we?"

That was it for Jaime Lannister, the knight lost his composer and roared in laughter. He had to brace himself against the wall as he wheezed out his breaths with tears streaming down his cheeks.

"The Northmen speak what is on their minds, eh? You sure didn't hold anything back there. Yes, life is going to be quite pleasant for the next few days with you lads here."

"Please, good Ser, do not encourage them. This is exactly the kind of behaviour that I was charged to prevent by Lord Stark."

"No harm done, Maester. Just some innocent queries by young lads that had bruised some ego. It would be quite funny if someone is to spread the tale. I, myself, would pay a few Gold Dragons to see Little Finger's face if people are to discuss the tale - lord of the smallest homestead and gelded by Brandon Stark – heh." A mischievous glint appeared in Jaime's eyes, Maester Luwin could only shake his head in consternation, "Come, we have to finish the tour of the keep, don't we?"

As the others continued to walk down the steps, Jaime held Jon back.

"Do not think that I didn't understand what and why you did back there, Bastard. I didn't need you to defend me, but I appreciate the gesture nonetheless."

"I am quite sure that I don't know what you are talking about, Ser Jaime. I just wanted to pay my respect to a skilled warrior and hoped that he would give me some lessons. Everything else was just happy coincidence."

Jaime peered at Jon with narrowed eyes, "You are so much more than meet the eyes, Jon Snow. Alright, you have gotten yourself a deal. Instead of a single spar, I will train with you lads and give you pointers whenever time permits me. I am also thinking of introducing you to my brother, Tyrion. With your mind and tongue, I believe you will find him quite a kindred soul. Come, let us join the others."

[CotW]

As the King commanded, the Wolfpack was housed at the Maidenvault. Maester Luwin was placed near the quarters of Grandmaester Pycelle as Luwin wanted to get an opinion of the Grandmaester on his research before he placed them in front of the Archmaesters at the Citadel. The old man was quite happy to have the chance to converse with the Grandmaester and largely sequestered himself within the Maester's solar, surrounded by tomes and parchments, leaving the four alone for better parts of the day.

Jon and the others had made rounds of the city numerous times. They could now claim that they would find their way from anywhere within the city. They had visited the larger attractions but also paid visits to the slums of Flea Bottom. The people there looked at them with distrusting eyes, but little children always swarmed to them. They were starry-eyed to see the White Wolf in front of them. They had heard songs about him and to see him in person was like precious treats to them. Jon indulged the children with stories from the North, of the Wall, he talked with them about Ghost and promised that he would bring him around to meet all of them sometimes.

Jon and Robb had taken the wolves out of the city and to the forest of Kingswood. They were afraid that their companions would get sick if they are contained much longer in the hot and humid city full of shit-stench. They had gone out for a day for a ride to the site where the stands for the tourney was being erected while making a detour for the woods so that the wolves can roam free. They had kept a close watch on them through their warging each night, and found that the wolves were quite happy to finally allowed to run free after being cooped up on a ship and later, behind stone walls.

Gale had taken the raven chick whom Asher had named Munnin (Mind in Old Tongue), under her wings. Jon was surprised to see his fussy avian companion showing such maternal instincts. She had taught Munnin to fly and hunt for food during their stay at Greywater Watch and travel to White Harbour, and throughout their journey by ship, the birds had commandeered the masts for their nest. Granted, for such a young chick, Munnin shouldn't have been able to follow Gale as he did, but Lord Reed was of the opinion that the magic of the lands, which helped Asher forming the bond with the bird, would also help Munnin to grow up rapidly, just as it did in the case of the direwolves. Ghost and Grey Wind had both grown quite larger than their littermates as the other Stark siblings had yet to form a bond with their wolves. Jon expressed his doubts that if they would ever form such bonds, Jojen had smiled mysteriously at him in reply. The growth was very evident in Ghost as he was once the runt of the litter. Now, both the wolves stood at the same height. Asher wanted to teach Munnin to speak, he was very impressed with Lord Commander Mormont's raven, but Jon advised him to wait till they leave Kings' Landing behind. It just won't do if anybody learned about their abilities. Although, he helped his friend to fly under Munnin's skin regularly.

Ser Jaime was true to his words as he came down to the yard when the four was warming up for their daily training. He had asked them about their warming ups as it was something he never saw before. Jon told him that he developed the routine and it helped him quite well to keep on his toes during the battles. He had invited the knight to take part in their warm-up routines, but Jaime declined, citing he was too old to learn new things. Their routine had garnered so much attention that every morning, men-women alike found excuses to be present at the yard when they come down to train. Jon had spotted the golden head of Princess Myrcella once or twice, looking down at them from a balcony. Even the Queen feigned disinterest to whatever the four was doing and said that she was just passing by the yard and stopped to talk with her brother, but apparently, she always made her presence known quite earlier than the knight himself had come down to train. They had yet to encounter with the Crown Prince Joffrey other than the lad sneering at them from afar whenever their paths crossed. But Prince Tommen had come down to the yard on the second day, and quite eagerly tried to follow in their steps. Jon and Robb found it quite endearing as the lad was of the age with Bran and like him, was always full of questions. Ser Jaime always had a smile for his young nephew and appeared quite indulgent towards the lad.

Jon had noticed that like Ser Arthur, Jaime too scratched a line with his sword in front of him before they start their bouts. When he had asked the knight about it, Jaime gave him a sad smile and answered that it was something he had picked up from his mentor, Ser Arthur. Jon had discussed this later with the man, Arthur though was of the mind that his once student was an oathbreaker as he slew the King whom he was sworn to protect and didn't want to talk about the man. He was also quite cross with Ser Barristan because he had bent his knee and further taken the oath to protect the very man who had killed their prince.

That morning, Jon decided to visit the Royal Library. Ser Jaime couldn't join their training that day for his Kingsguard obligations. After washing off the sweat and grimes, he changed his outfit for a fresh one and went to peruse the tomes they had in their archive.

Jon was lost in the pages when a deep voice woke him out of history induced trance –

"I thought I was the only one who was eager to pursue knowledge this morning."

Jon turned towards the voice to see a small, blond man with mismatched eyes peering at him interestedly. Even without the golden lion motif on his clothing, it wasn't hard to tell that this was the second son of Lord Tywin, the dwarf Tyrion Lannister.

"Nay, My Lord, I believe knowledge should be pursued by everyone who sought to learn from their predecessor any time they could manage to find."

Tyrion nodded his head and climbed onto the chair from across Jon, "And what does the Bastard of Winterfell sought to learn this morning?"

Jon smirked inwardly, "I was reading Septon Eustace's account on The Dance of Dragons, My Lord, just to see where the good Septon went a different way than the dwarf's tales."

Tyrion raised an eyebrow at him, "Jaime warned me about the edge of your tongue, Bastard, but I wanted to see it for myself." Jon opened his mouth to reply but Tyrion had his hand up to stop him, "He also told me about your nature. You have stood against the defamation of my brother and protested in a very unique way. No matter how small you think your effort was, you have earned the respect of Jaime and thus, you have also earned mine, for my brother is the dearest to me. I want to extend my hand of friendship to you." He extended his small arm over the table towards Jon, "Greetings, my name is Tyrion Lannister, otherwise known as the Imp of Casterly Rock."

Jon grasped his forearm, "Pleasure to meet you, My Lord. My name is Jon Snow, otherwise known as the Bastard of Winterfell."

"Do not forget about the moniker of White Wolf, Bastard."

"As long as you don't forget about your own, My Lord." Jon's eyes travelled the entirety of Tyrion's physique.

Tyrion paused for a moment before laughing out loud, "You are indeed something else, Jon Snow. Jaime was right, the times will be very interesting for the duration of your staying at Kings' Landing. Now, please sate my curiosity, how are you able to decide that the Septon's account deviated from the dwarf's? As far as I remember, Baelor the Blessed have ordered every copy of that book to be burned. There might be a copy or two remain at the Citadel, but I've also known for the fact that you've never been to the Old Town."

Jon smirked at the man, "One copy of the Testimony had found its way to the Library of Winterfell, My Lord."

Tyrion's eyes glazed over at the mere thought of reading said book. He shook himself out of the daydreams to concentrate on their conversation, "And you've read that tome. Pardon me for saying so but I thought that the White Wolf knew nothing other than swinging his sword all day long."

"I would reply to that as it is all thanks to Maester Luwin. He had drilled it in my head quite early that besides a fit body, a warrior needs a sound mind to complement it. And as one can keep fit by physical exertions, the mind needs books to stay sharp. He has always encouraged my quest for knowledge. Later, Maester Darryl at Karhold only helped to stoke the fire even hotter."

They spent the day discussing and debating various subjects. Both were impressed by the depth of knowledge of the others. Though Jon was quite young to properly understand the nuances of court politics or politics in general, Tyrion found him to be a bright mind and was quite happy to have the chance to finally converse with someone who could carry their weight against him in a debate. They departed from each other with a promise to continue their discussion at a later date.

[CotW]

Days passed at a steady pace as the time for the tourney drew nearer. Meanwhile, the four had found themselves in the presence of the King. Robert had heard from Tommen about their training in the mornings and wanted to talk with the boys himself. The evening was spent by Robert boasting about the battles he had been in himself. Jon had to clamp down hard on his emotions to control himself when the fat king boasted about how he had caved in the 'rapist bastard' Rhaegar's chest with a single hammer blow. That night, Jon drank like he never did in his life before. His friends were quite worried about him as he kept staring out of the window with a stormy look on his face while he guzzled down bottles after bottles of wine. It took Gale to visit him to bring him out of his melancholy. Gale had landed on the back of the chair Jon was sitting upon and rubbed her head to his cheek, making Jon crack a smile and stroke the plumage of the bird's chest. Robb later told the others that he felt Grey Wind's anxiety as the wolf tried to restrain an unrestful Ghost.

The next morning, Jon was still feeling rather down and tried to shake it off in the yard. As it was a day when Ser Jaime was occupied performing his Kingsguard duties, only Robb dared to cross blades with his cousin. The two of them exchanged blows after blows with no hold barred. The onlookers were amazed at the ferocity the Stark boys showed that morning. Prince Tommen was awestruck, his reverence to the boys had bordered on worship, which climbed a few notches at that morning's display.

As they were returning to their chambers to wash and change, Jon was surprised by a quest alert –

Ping!

Quest Alert!

Lead a team to excavate under the rubbles of Dragonpit!

Jon frowned at this new quest. What was he to find there - he wondered. Sighing, he turned to the others –

"Lads, what say you about going out for another treasure hunt?" He asked them in a low voice.

Their eyes widened at the question, Asher drew near him and asked, "Did you have another dream?"

"You could say that. So? Do you?"

"Of course, we do. You had to ask?" Robb was buzzing with excitements. The Prospect of unearthing some more forgotten secrets had also chased away Jon's melancholy.

They hurried to their rooms to change and went down to the barracks. The Stark men were loafing about after a gruelling training session under the watchful eyes of Ser Arthur. The knight frowned to see the four rushing into the barrack with flushed faces.

"What are you up to now, Jon?"

"Uncle Eric, we are about to go for some digging. Would you mind getting a few gents together and gather tools such as spades and pickaxes?"

"I might just do that if you tell me what you are up to."

"We are going to dig under the rubble of the Dragonpit. I want to see if there is a dragon egg or two underneath it all."

Arthur's frown deepened, "Do you think the thought never occurred to anybody else after the Dance? Even if there was anything, that had been long removed."

"I am quite sure that nobody wanted to dig up there after they burned the Shepherd on the stake. Maester Munkun, Septon Eustace, even the dwarf Mushroom never said anything about searching the Dragonpit, and I have researched quite extensively for later years, nobody did something like this."

Arthur was in deep thought. After a while, he sighed and nodded, "You better ask permission from His Grace or mayhaps the Hand before you do anything else."

Jon slapped his forehead, "Of course, I completely forgot about that. You are right, Uncle Eric, I will see you soon." He yelled out before running out of the barracks with the others on his tow. Arthur could only chuckle at their antics.

They ran for the Tower of the Hand, guards and staff alike frowned as they rushed past them. Halfway there, Jon stopped and changed direction, when the others asked him where he was going, he told them that they would need Tyrion Lannister with them for this.

Jon almost ploughed Tyrion, who was returning perhaps after a night spent at some brothel, down on the ground in his hurry to reach the dwarf's quarters.

"Jon? Where is the fire, lad?"

"Lord Tyrion! I cannot express how glad I am to find you here and not knocking down your door to trying to wake you up from your slumber!"

"Oh? And why is that, pray tell?"

"We are going for a quest to excavate under the rubbles of Dragonpit!" He retorted excitedly.

Tyrion also frowned at that statement and raised the same questions that Arthur did. But Jon had an easier time in convincing the dwarf as they both had perused the pages and argued quite extensively on the subject amongst themselves.

"Alright," Tyrion raised a hand to stop Jon's ramblings, "I have a few questions. First, why come to me? Second, I am but a dwarf, so again, why come to me?"

Jon looked at the man incredulously as if he was trying to be dense on purpose.

"First, you are a Lannister of Casterly Rock above all else, also being Her Grace's brother would lend quite a weight to the request than that of a mere bastard of Lord Stark, even with the presence of heir to Winterfell. For your second question, pardon me for saying so, My Lord, but depending on the circumstances, even the smallest man casts quite a large shadow."

Tyrion's eyebrows had disappeared under his blond hair at Jon's answer. Never in his life had anybody given him importance for being a Lannister beside his brother. For the first time, pride swelled in his chest for his heritage. Also, Jon's total disregard of his stature had struck a chord within his being. He nodded his head –

"Very well, allow me a few moments to wash and change, and I shall join you." He started to walk fast towards his chambers.

"I don't mean to rush you, My Lord, but we need to hurry, lest Lord Hand leave for the Small Council meeting."

Tyrion looked over his shoulders with a smirk, "As you have said just a while ago, Snow, I am the Queen's brother, you need not worry."

[CotW]

Jon Arryn was getting ready for another dreary day of endless meetings. He cursed inwards for the unnecessary headaches all these tourneys and festivities brought for him. What was more, Petyr had arrived just a while ago with what seemed to him a rim of parchments for him to read through and give his stamp of approval. I am getting too old for this shit. – He thought to himself. He quite eagerly welcomed the break that appeared with a knock on the doors of his solar.

"Enter" He called out.

One of his guards poked his head in and said, "Pardon me, milord, but Lord Tyrion is here to see you. Lord Stark and his companions are also with him."

Jon frowned at that, Tyrion Lannister had never visited him before, and now he had come to him with Ned's sons. What in the name of Seven Hells were they up to? He looked questioningly at Petyr who shook his head indicating that he too had no idea what this was about.

Tyrion Lannister waddled into the room followed by Robb Stark, Jon Snow, Asher Forrester and Torrhen Karstark. Lord Arryn bade them take seats and offered drinks, only Tyrion took up on his offer and grabbed a goblet of Arbour Gold.

"Well, My Lord Tyrion, I have to say that I am quite surprised that you have decided to pay me a visit. And what are the lads doing with you?"

Tyrion gulped the wine and put down the goblet. He adjusted himself in his seat and leaned forward, "My Lord Hand, we are here to ask a very odd permission from you."

"Oh?" A frown formed on his face, "And what is this odd thing that I ought to permit?"

"We want to dig under the rubbles of Dragonpit."

Silence reigned inside of the room. Lord Arryn's jaw seemed to be unhinged and fell on his chest.

Lord Baelish coughed and leaned towards Tyrion, "I am sorry, My Lord Tyrion, I think I heard it quite wrong. It sounded as if you wanted to dig under the rubbles of Dragonpit."

"Do not worry, My Lord Baelish, your ears didn't fail you like your other appendage, you heard it quite alright."

Baelish' back stiffened and the smirk disappeared from his face. The rumour of his missing cock had made its round around the keep. Baelish gave a venomous glare to Jon and Robb and turned away from them.

Lord Arryn cleared his throat to cover the snort that inadvertently came out of his mouth.

"Yes, we have indeed heard you quite clearly, My Lord. But my question is, why? Why you want to dig up the rubbles?"

Tyrion picked up the goblet and poured himself some more wine, "It turned out that young master Snow here is quite a scholar. He and I have been perusing the tomes describing the Dance, and both of us are quite sure that there may be some hidden treasure buried under there. If nothing else, mayhaps one or two dragon eggs. I am sure that I do not have to tell you how much coins a dragon egg could fetch for the Royal treasury."

Baelish once again tried to insert himself into the conversation, "That may be so, My Lord Tyrion, but this close to the tourney…I do not think that it can be possible to spare any money or labour for your treasure hunt."

It was Tyrion's turn to smirk at the man, "The Lannisters will take up the expenditures, and as for the labours, a small company of Lannister men along with the Stark men…?" He looked at Robb, who nodded his head in assurance, "…and Stark men will take up the job. The throne doesn't need to pay a single Copper Star yet it stands the chance to fill its coffer if we are successful."

Lord Arryn had leaned back in his seat and was scratching his chin as Tyrion made his offer. After a few moments he nodded and sat back up, "Very well, Lord Tyrion, if you are sure that you are ready to carry the cost and provide the labour, I have no problem with this little venture of yours. You have my permission to dig up under the rubbles of the Dragonpit." He pulled a blank parchment towards him and jotted down the permit along with his stamp of approval. He pushed the finished document towards Tyrion who took it up and read it carefully. "If you require nothing else, My Lord, I am afraid that I need to get back to my work. A hand's job is neverending as you can see."

"Of course, My Lord Hand, I will let you get back to it. By your leave, My Lord. Lord Baelish, always a pleasure."

The lads also bade their farewell and went out of the room.

"Well, Snow, let's go and find out if our assumptions are correct or not."