Chapter 107 – Unlucky

[298 AC]

Walking silently through the secret passages of the Red Keep, Varys' mind slowly relaxed as the feeling of safety provided by secrecy and silence washed over him.

With every day he continued to stay in the Red Keep and King's Landing the Spider felt more and more on edge as if he was only one step away from the abyss. He knew that most of these feelings came from the fact that the Red Temple seemed to gain more power every day.

It was subtle almost imperceptible, but Varys could see it and feel it in his bones – the Red Temple was the greatest threat to the Realm, as was the Red God.

He also knew that any type of plan he might have had with a Targaryen climbing back onto the Iron Throne was basically obsolete, as 'he' would not allow it. And even if 'he' did, they were all part of the Red Temple at this point.

This left the Master of Whisperers with little to no other choice than to set his gaze on the honorable Eddard Stark to rule the Seven Kingdoms like Jon Arryn had done, as this was the best outcome he could see for the short term.

And hopefully, in time, maybe find a new more adequate heir for the throne that would serve the Realm and its people instead of just himself, as neither Stannis nor Renly was an option to inherit the Iron Throne, to speak nothing of the Prince, Joeffrey Baratheon.

Seeing Stannis Baratheon on the throne would be akin to handing the Seven Kingdoms to the Red Temple, while Renly Baratheon would be nothing but a puppet for the Southern Lords.

Prince Joeffrey was naturally not a candidate as he would probably be the second coming of the Mad King, though maybe his younger brother Tommen could grow into a great ruler someday.

Sadly such was not an option, as not only was House Lannister too closely intertwined with the Red Temple, the news Varys had received just minutes ago made it clear that House Stark and Lannister were bound for war.

The Spider just hoped to be fast enough to warn the Hand and maybe help him and his daughters leave the city as the Queen and her brother were bound to react most violently to the news of their brother's death.

The North was also the Kingdom where the temple had the least influence and with Eddard Stark already being the Hand of the King, who else was there that could save the Seven Kingdoms from whatever the temple planned and ensure that the next King would be a suitable one?

If it came down to it, the King would just have to father another bastard and legitimize him, as Varys was dead-set on supporting the new Hand, mostly because he was left with no choice. A King didn't necessarily have to be born great, but could just be guided to be so from a young age, at least the Spider believed so.

Drawing closer to the exit from the secret passage that would lead the Spider near the quarters of the Hand of the King, Varys suppressed his nervousness and fear, forcing himself to calm down.

He knew that his actions would inevitably be considered a betrayal of the oath he had sworn before the Red God, but even if this would cost him his life, what other choice did he have left?

Walking hurriedly through the pitch-black passages with the utmost caution, so as to not trigger any one of the many many traps, while holding onto a small torch that allowed Varys to see barely a few feet ahead, the Spider came to a sudden halt as fear surged in his heart.

Just outside the corona of light produced by the small torch, Varys saw a figure wrapped in blood-red robes with fiery hair and deep red eyes.

Every muscle in his body tensed, as the Spider became ready to fight, even though he knew it to be a futile effort as no mortal could oppose a High Priestess with only a small dagger. Even a hundred of him would be no match for the woman in front of him.

"Lady Melisandre, I didn't know that you enjoyed exploring the secret passages. It seems that we have more in common than just serving the same Lord.", Varys addressed the Red Priestess with a schooled expression, hiding his fear behind a mask of deceit.

Slowly a smile settled on the priestess' lips as she gazed at the Spider with barely concealed pity.

"To think that you really believe that you could fool 'his' senses when even I can smell your lies and see your deceit so clearly. From the very moment you spoke your oath, the Lord knew that you would betray the Red Temple.", Melisandre remarked, as she turned her wrist slightly.

Immediately the shadows all around sprung to life and latched onto the master of whisperers without giving him any chance to escape. One shadow tendril directly wrapped itself around Varys' neck and the lower part of his face, taking away his ability to speak and denying him any opportunity to explain himself.

"Unfortunately for you the Lord just told me to take care of you and left it up to me how to go about this business.", the Red Priestess continued with a light tone, though the look in her eyes was one of menace.

Suddenly her eyes changed form, her fiery irises turned into a deeper and deeper shade of red until they seemed almost black, before they rapidly expanded and Melisandre's eyes looked like two lightless gates that lead into the abyss.

Struggling with all his might, Varys was stricken with such bone-chilling terror that he had already lost any sense of self-control. Like a frightened child, he just wanted to escape and get away from the demoness before him.

"Truly, you are unlucky Spider, as I am not just a Red Priestess. I am also a shadowbinder of Asshai and a true practitioner of blood magic.", she whispered, before the shadows moved to devour the only source of light in the otherwise pitch-black passage.

…

*Knock* *Knock* *Knock* *Knock*

Opening the door to his quarters with a deep frown, after he had just covered himself hastily with a thin robe, Renly Baratheon was just about to blurt out insults and threats at the one who dared to wake him this late into the night, when he saw who it was that had knocked on his doors.

Frozen stiff in fear and trepidation, the young Lord of the Stormlands did not know what to say for a moment as he looked at the beautiful warrioress with the feather-shaped face tattoo before him.

"L-lady Feather, w-what can I do for you at this late hour?", Renly finally managed to greet the woman he had only ever seen follow behind the Red Priestess.

He knew very well what this woman represented and he was also very clear on the fact that the Feather before him was said to have even greater might than the High Priestess herself. After the short but memorable display at the tourney a few days ago, the young Lord Baratheon was more than willing to believe that.

Giving Renly Baratheon a look that was most definitely filled with disdain for the man's weakness, Mera told the man the reason for her visit.

"Tyrion Lannister died while being a prisoner to Catelyn Stark. The King will die of poison during the next hour, while the Hand of the King too will die during this time at the hands of the Queen's other brother and his men.", the Feather stated apathetically, as if wholly unconcerned about the gravity of this information, which she in fact was.

Mera generally had not much interest in the squabbles between nobles, as her own strength made these fights seem like battles between children. And while she was the female leader of the Feathers, she was also the one that was most comfortable with only her brothers and sisters around.

"If you do not want to end up as a prisoner to the new King, who is, in fact, the bastard son of Jamie Lannister, then you should not waste even a second more and leave King's Landing right this instant.", she ended calmly, before directly turning around and walking down the dark corridor, melting into the shadows and completely vanishing from sight only a moment later.

The King's younger brother was practically frozen in shock, unable to comprehend the words that he had just heard from the Feather. Only when he saw Mera magically disappear into the shadows, did he manage to finally shake off his daze and react.

Hurriedly closing the door as fear and panic slowly bloomed in his heart, Renly Baratheon looked into the face of his younger lover, Loras Tyrell, who while also shocked, was much calmer.

In the end, they both followed the Feather's advice and threw on the bare minimum of clothes, before leaving the castle in a hurry, taking only a handful of their guards with them.