Chapter 8: The Kingsroad

Character Ages:

- Jory Cassel: 35+

On the Kingsroad (near Riverrun)…

Tensions were rising, burning hot and heavy. Eddard Stark took a search party to find his missing daughter Arya, but was recalled to the nearest holdfast as soon as word reached him that Arya was found… by Lannister soldiers! Once inside the audience chamber was crowded with Baratheon soldiers, Lannister soldiers, and Stark soldiers, all of them crammed against each other. Eddard pushed his way to the front.

King Robert was slumped in a chair at the front, his face closed and sullen. Queen Cersei and Joffrey stood beside him. The Golden Lioness had her hand on her second son's shoulder. Thick silken bandages still covered the boys arm. Daveth, meanwhile, leaned against the nearest wall with his arms crossed.

Arya stood in the center of the room, every eye being upon her. Eddard immediately went to her, his boots stomping on the stone floor.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Arya trembled as she embraced her father.

Eddard looked her over. "Are you hurt?" he asked concerned.

"No," she shook her head.

Eddard nodded and rose to face the Robert.

"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded, his voicing loudly ringing. "Why was my daughter not brought to me at once?"

Eddard's eyes swept across the room barely able to contain his fury; his own men were few, the rest were Lannister men… and hostile.

"How dare you speak to your King in that manner," Queen Cersei answered.

At that, Robert stirred. "Quiet, woman!" he snapped, straightening in his seat. "I'm sorry, Ned. I never meant to frighten the girl. But we need to get this business done quickly."

"And what business is that?" Eddard put ice in his voice.

Cersei stepped forward. "Your girl and that butcher's boy attacked my sons," she accused. "That animal of her nearly tore Joffrey's arm off."

Daveth blinked. 'Of course you of all people would say that, Mother…' he thought bitterly. 'Because that is NOT what happened!'

Earlier this morning Daveth had a heated argument with the Queen, arguing over what had occurred at the riverbanks of the Trident.

"Joffrey is your brother!" Cersei scolded, her cold eyes focused on her eldest son. "How could you let that girl and her beast do that to him?"

Daveth met his mother's cold eyes with his own.

"I had the situation firmly under control since he started it in the first place, Mother. As for the direwolf, it came out of nowhere. As I said, if he hadn't been stupid enough to brazenly threaten the beast's mistress, then perhaps Joffrey wouldn't have had his arm bloody and mauled. He's lucky enough to even keep it."

"And you think that justifies your assault on him earlier?" she narrowed her eyes.

"So now it's fine if Joffrey starts trouble and gets away with only a few kind words, but it's fine to blame me for simply doing my duty? For defending myself?" Daveth was livid. "I gave him explicit commands to cease his recklessness, but he chose not to heed it. Joffrey never listens to anyone, and you damn well know it."

"Watch your language when speaking to your mother," Cersei warned.

"Then act like one," Daveth retorted. "Because if you won't keep that little monster tied to a short leash, then I'll do it myself."

Cersei was stunned by her son's attitude. He had never spoken back to her like that before. But before Cersei could argue even further, Daveth had already turned his back and marched out of the room.

"On that, you have my word," was all he said.

"That's not true!" Arya spoke loudly. "She just… bit him a little. He was hurting Mycah."

"Joff told us what happened," Cersei continued. "You and that butcher's boy beat him with clubs while you set your wolf on him."

"That's not what happened!"

"Yes it is!" Joffrey insisted. "They all attacked me, and she threw my sword in the river!"

Eddard noticed that he did not so much as glance at Arya as he spoke.

"Liar!" Arya yelled.

"Shut up!" Joffrey yelled back.

"ENOUGH!" Robert roared, rising from his seat with his voice thick of irritation. Silence fell as Robert glowered at Arya and Joffrey through his thick beard.

" He tells me one thing, she tells me another! Seven hells what am I to make of this?" he spoke as Robert turned his gaze towards his eldest son. "Boy!" he bellowed out, "Come here!"

Daveth unfolded his arms and stepped away from the wall before making his way to the center of the room. All eyes were on him now; Arya looked up at Daveth, her eyes peering at the back of his head as if silently demanding his support.

"Your Grace," Daveth coolly spoke up, giving a quick bow.

Robert shook his head. "Now, your brother and the girl all gave their side of the story. Both say that you were at the scene when it all happened," he said before calming himself. "Now, tell me everything."

Daveth calmly composed himself.

"I was there, yes," he began his testimony. Robert, Cersei, Joffrey and Arya all looked at the Crown Prince. "I was busying taking a morning stroll near the banks of the Trident. Lord Stark's daughter and the butcher's boy were playing. Nothing serious like rough housing, I assure you. Children often at times have a tendency to reenact dream of knights and practice swordplay with nothing sticks. At first it all seemed to be going rather well," he said before glancing at Joffrey, "that is until Prince Joffrey arrived at the scene."

Joffrey was pale as his brother continued speaking.

"I can confirm with Arya had already told you: the Prince had indeed inflicted a minor wound on the butcher boy's face as he continued to despite my calls for him to stand down, and can dispute the notion of Joffrey's accusations of him being beaten with clubs. If my brother's testimony were indeed true, then where are the bruises? Where are the bumps? Where are the welts? If he really was beaten with clubs, the marks on his face and body would be visible for all to see. All he ended up getting as that bite on his arm from Arya's direwolf, who only acted in defense of his mistress."

Cersei frowned deeply. Joffrey turns his head to the side in shame. Arya felt a surge of confidence as she gave Joffrey a "Told you so!" glance before Daveth quickly turned his gaze towards Arya.

"Now it is true that he did threaten the butcher's boy, however," he pointed out, "I would like to point out that as I had already moved to take appropriate measures to prevent unnecessary violence from escalating further, Arya had already taken the stick she was using to hit Joffrey as I was escorting him away."

Arya's eyes widened. Joffrey felt the need to grin, but remained silent.

"Had the girl not done so, I believe this unpleasantness would have never occurred in the first place. The overwhelming need to protect her friend, however understandable and misguided, caused her to impulsively lash out and strike a Prince of royal blood."

Daveth returned his eyes to Robert. "As such, I can conclude that both sides were to blame as each contributed the incident."

Robert studied his son closely, listening to every word with his fist pressed against his chin. As Daveth finished giving his side of the story and was done talking, Robert nodded and waved his hand. He looked like a man who wanted to be anywhere but here.

"Where's your other daughter, Ned?" Robert asked.

"In bed asleep," he answered.

Cersei shook her head. "She's not. Sansa, come here, darling," she calls out.

Eddard turned to see Sansa hesitantly stepping forward. She was dressed in blue velvets trimmed with white, a silver chain around her neck. Her thick auburn hair had been brushed until it shone. She blinked at her sister, then at the two princes.

"Your daughter was there as well," Cersei said. "Perhaps she would care to shed some light on all of this?"

Robert sighed and massaged his temple, feeling a headache quickly coming. He was going to be here for quite a while. "Now, child… The four of you were at the Trident when all his was going on. Tell me what happened. Tell it all and tell it true. It's a grave crime to lie to a King."

Sansa looked as though she wanted to bolt. "I…" she stammered, taking occasional glances between her family and her betrothed's family.

"I don't know," she blurted out. "I don't remember. Everything happened so fast, I…"

Daveth lowered his head in disappointment. Arya, on the other hand, was furious.

"You rotten!" she shrieked, knocking Sansa to the ground, pummeling her and pulling her hair. "Liar! Liar! Liar! Liar!"

"Arya!" Sansa screamed as she struggled to free herself.

"Stop it!" Eddard shouted at his daughters. The captain of his household guard, Jory Cassel, pulled Arya off Sansa, kicking. Sansa was pale and shaking as Eddard lifted her back to her feet. "That's enough of that! Stop! Arya!"

"She's as wild as that animal of hers," Cersei said. "I want her punished."

"Cersei, look at her," Robert swore. "She's a child. What would you have me do? Whip her through the streets? Damn it, children fight. It's over."

The Queen was furious. "Joffrey will bear these scars for the rest of his life."

As his parents were arguing, Daveth spotted a hooded individual hiding amongst the Lannister soldiers. He nodded and motioned for them to move, luckily no one even noticed. King Robert Baratheon looked at his second son.

"You let that little girl disarm you? Perhaps this will teach you a lesson," he said to Joffrey disappointingly before returning his sights to Daveth. "That'll be all, boy," he spoke, pleased with Daveth's testimony as he looked at Eddard. "Ned, see to it that your daughter is disciplined. I'll do the same with my son."

Eddard breathed a sigh of relief. "Gladly, Your Grace."

Robert started to walk away, but Cersei wasn't done. "And what of the direwolf?" she called out. "What of the beast that savaged your son?"

"Ah, seven hells…" Daveth muttered under his breath, being as quiet as possible.

The King stopped, turned back, frowning. "I'd forgot the damned wolf."

"We found no trace of the direwolf, Your Grace," one of the Lannister soldiers spoke up.

"So be it," said Robert.

"We have another wolf," Cersei said. Her voice was very quiet, but her green eyes shone with triumph.

'So you'd another take the fall? One who had nothing to do with what happened?' Daveth quickly realized his mother's intention.

It took everyone else a moment to comprehend her words, but when they did, Robert shrugged irritably.

"As you will."

"Robert, you can't mean it," Eddard protested.

"A direwolf's no pet," Robert said, clearly in no mood for more arguments. "Get her a dog. She'll be happier for it."

At that moment, it was when Sansa Stark finally seemed to comprehend what they were talking about. Her eyes widened with fright.

"He doesn't mean Lady, does he?" she asked her father, seeing the truth on his face. "No," she said. "No, no, not Lady! Lady didn't bite anyone! She's good!"

"Lady wasn't there," Arya shouted angrily. "You leave her alone!"

Sansa looked from her father to Daveth. "Please, stop them," she clutched both his arms pleadingly, "please, don't let them do it, please, please, it wasn't Lady!" she started to cry.

Daveth said nothing. "Lord Stark…" he finally spoke up.

All Eddard could do was take his daughter into his arms and hold Sansa while she wept. He looked across the room at Robert, his old friend. Gently disengaging himself from Sansa's grasp, Eddard spoke up in a voice cold and sharp as steel.

"Is this your command… Your Grace?"

Robert looked at Eddard with flat, dead eyes and left without a word, his footsteps heavy as lead. Silence filled the hall.

"I'm sorry for all of this, Lord Stark," Daveth said. "Really. But I'm afraid this is a problem that won't simply fade away with words alone."

Eddard looked at the Crown Prince in disbelief, all the weariness of the past four days still returning to him.

"Where is the beast?" Cersei Lannister asked when her husband was gone. Beside her, Prince Joffrey was smiling.

"Chained up outside, Your Grace," said one of the Lannister soldiers.

"Ser Ilyn, do me the honor."

The King's Justice stepped forward, only to be pushed back by Eddard.

"No," he said. "Jory… take the girls to their rooms. If it must be done, then I'll do it myself." The words tasted of bile in his throat as he forced them out.

Cersei looked at him suspiciously. "Is this some trick?"

All eyes were staring at him, even Daveth's, but it was Sansa's look that cut.

"The wolf is of the North," he said sternly. "She deserves better than one of your southern butchers."

Eddard left the room with his eyes burning and his daughter's wails echoing in his ears, still can't find himself believing he would actually be forced to do it.

Outside…

"Lady," Eddard said, tasting the name. He never paid much attention to the names of the direwolves his children picked for them, but he knew that Sansa had chosen well. Lady was the smallest of the litter, the prettiest, the most gentle and trusting.

On his way to the chained up wolf, Eddard saw Sandor Clegane and his riders strolling through the road, back from their hunt. There was something slung over the back of his horse, or someone. He pulled back the cloak, dreading the words he would have to find for Arya. It was the butcher's boy, Mycah, his lifeless body covered in dried blood. He had been cut almost in half from shoulder to waist by some blow struck from above.

"The butcher's boy… You rode him down?" Eddard asks.

The Hound eyes seemed to glitter through the steel of his dog's-head helm. "He ran…" he said looking at Eddard's face and laughed. "Not very fast."

Disgusted, Eddard shook the image from his head and continued to find Lady… only to discover the chain keeping Lady in place was broken and the direwolf missing. A small trace of blood left a trail.

"What happened here?" he ponders surprised.

He followed the trail of blood, and found the trace. A wolf laid in a puddle of its own blood.

Eddard examines the body more closely. "Something's not right…" he concludes. "This wolf is a bit smaller…"

It didn't take long for Lord Eddard Stark to determine this was not in fact Lady, but another animal's life had been taken in Lady's place.

"No need to worry about the beast, Lord Stark…" the cloaked individual announced quietly.

Eddard turned around. "Who are you?"

"Who I am doesn't matter, my lord," he assures the Stark patriarch. "What matters is that the Crown Prince will be pleased."

"Daveth did this?" Eddard realizes. "This isn't the direwolf…"

The man in question shook his head.

"It wouldn't be the first time the Oathkeeper defied the King's orders. He only acts whenever necessary. Most of us in the realm owe him a great many favors. And when he calls on us, we repay our debts and carry out whatever his instructions are thoroughly. With interest, I might add."

"The King-"

"… will not care even the slightest," he interrupts. "As for the Queen and the Illborn, however, they will be none the wiser. All they'll know is that the deed was done."

Back at the inn…

Night time befalls the inhabitants.

Sansa hadn't stopped crying since her father left to carry out the King's order, despite Jeyne Poole's father Vayon attempt to console her. Even Arya, brooding silently, felt bad for her sister as Sansa finally cried herself to sleep.

Daveth stood outside the door, having relayed the news to Jory. The captain of the guard nodded and assured the Crown Prince he will tell them once the time is right.

As he walked away, Daveth turned to the shadows - where one of his contacts was waiting.

"It is done, Oathkeeper," he said.

"And the direwolf?"

"Unharmed, and safely in our custody."

"Good," he said. "Be sure to be as discreet as possible. You know how relentless and cruel the Queen can be when it comes to her children. And if someone so much as catches wind of this, you know what must be done."

The hooded figure nodded. "Throats slit, heads cut off."

It was a great risk Daveth was taking, and it was one he was willing to take if it meant doing the right thing.

"And what of Lord Stark?"

"He appears to have some difficulty taking us at our word, but rest assured, my Prince: Ned Stark will come to understand your motives. He will forgive you."

Daveth shakes his head. "It is not forgiveness I seek. I only do what is necessary for the good of the realm."

The man nods again. "Of course, my Prince. The realm is deeply indebted to you."

"I'm sure they are," Daveth rolled his eyes. "Now go, before people get suspicious."

"We will await your summons. Good day," he said before vanishing into the shadows.

Now alone, Daveth left to return to his room as he noticed Eddard making his return. No doubt he intends to break the news himself.

'In due time, Lord Stark,' he thought, 'you'll come to understand; even if your Northern honor and stubborn nature won't allow it. You'll see that I have my reasons.'