[North]
The wind was sharp and cold at the Wall when Rob Stark finally arrived. His face was hard, his eyes burning with worry and anger.
He wasn't alone. Ser Rodrik, Theon, and a dozen Stark men rode with him, all tired but determined.
Bran was missing and all suspicions were on the Hound. He was the only person who could have kidnapped Bran. It didn't help that both Sandor and Bran went missing at the same time.
But, that wasn't enough. Why would the Hound kidnap Bran, there wasn't anything for him, until someone told him.
Who else could it be than the Lannisters? At least Rob knew that without the Lannisters, there couldn't be anyone else who would act so brashly against House Stark in North no less. It was clear that no one beside those Lannister could order the Hound to act like this.
Rob had sent word ahead, ordering that Tyrion be kept at the Wall until he arrived. Done by Lannisters or not, they can't let the Imp out of the North right now.
The Night's Watch, bound by neutrality, was not fond of interfering with lords' quarrels, but they heeded the request. Becuase this request came from House Stark. In the North, if House Stark even dares to defy the king then the North will stay united behind a Stark. That how strong and ancient their lineage was.
When Rob dismounted and strode into Castle Black's yard, the first man he saw was Tyrion himself, standing short but proud, with his usual mocking smile.
"Well, well," Tyrion said, lifting his cup. "The Young Wolf himself at the edge of the world. I'd say it's an honor, though I doubt you came here to flatter me."
Rob's temper boiled at the sight of that smirk. He closed the distance quickly, he quikcly seized Tyrion by the collar of his fur cloak. The cup fell from Tyrion's hand and splattered wine onto the snow.
"Where is my brother?" Rob growled, his face inches from Tyrion's. "What have you Lannisters done with Bran?"
Tyrion did not flinch, though his breath grew short under Rob's grip. "I'd love to say I've misplaced him somewhere in my pockets, but alas, I travel light," he said, his tone sharp with sarcasm.
"Do not play games with me," Rob snapped, tightening his fist. "You'll answer for him. If he's been harmed—"
Grey Wind's teeth bared close to Tyrion's arm, a growl rumbling deep. The yard had gone silent, every crow of the Watch watching the scene unfold.
Tyrion raised his brows, calm even in the face of the wolf. "I assure you, I had no hand in your brother's vanishing. If I were clever enough to steal a boy from Winterfell, I wouldn't be here waiting to be strangled by you."
Rob's jaw clenched, his fury unsoftened. "Then you had best prove it. Because until Bran is safe, I will not trust a word from your cursed lion's mouth."
...
King Robert Baratheon was dead. An inevitable outcome seeing how he used to fuck and drink, but to everyone's amazement, that wasn't the cause why he's gone.
The news spread through the Red Keep like wildfire, and the castle was already shifting. From fake tears to genuine laughter, all in hush silence.
However, the news of the king's death wasn't as big of a deal as what happened after that.
Who's gonna be the next King? Robert Baratheon's heir hasn't come of age yet. Robert's will had yet to be read and lay with Ned Stark.
As for Ned Stark, as soon as he left the king's chamber after seeing his brother all but in blood die, Renly Baratheon caught up to him.
"We must strike tonight, Lord Stark," Renly said without preamble.
"Strike? At whom?"
"Joffrey. We should take Joffrey under our custody. We have to take action now before the queen acts."
Ned frowned. "There won't be any strike or blood in this castle, Renly. Tomorrow I'll read Robert's will and whatever he said will happen."
"And let Joffrey rule the Seven Kingdoms? Ned, even you should know what kind of..." Renly was saying, but Ned stopped him midway.
"I will not dishonor Robert's final wishes by shedding blood in his halls."
Renly let out a frustrated breath. "You are too honourable, Lord Stark. Honour won't save you when Cersei makes her move."
"I will do what is right," Ned said firmly.
Renly studied him for a long moment, then sighed. "Do as you wish." Without another word, he turned and left.
Ned exhaled slowly. He knew what was coming. Cersei would not sit idle. The city would soon turn into a battlefield.
He could not risk his daughters getting caught in it.
Sansa and Arya can't stay here anymore.
He quickly turn around, going to his quarters and calling for Jory.
"My Lord." Jory came rushing in, wondering what had happened now?
"I need you to gather our men, make sure that our quarters are well protected and inform me if there is any changes or discord in the Red Keep."
"Yes My Lord." Jory nodded, ready to do whatever his lord ask of him. However, just as he was ready to move out, Ned Stark once again called him.
"And find Thor immediately and ask him to meet me here."
...
The bells of King's Landing tolled heavily and slowly upon learning the news of the king's despise.
But none felt the weight more than his children. Princess Myrcella wept quietly, clinging to her mother's hand, while little Tommen sobbed openly, his small body shaking. Even Joffrey, who so often indulges himself in cruelty, seemed shaken. His eyes were red, his lips tight, though he refused to let tears fall.
Cersei stood beside him, regal and composed even in grief. She placed a hand on Joffrey's shoulder, her voice soft but filled with steel.
"You are his heir," she whispered, her green eyes sharp. "The crown is yours now. The realm will look to you. You must not hesitate, my Lion. Weakness invites vultures."
Joffrey straightened at her words, puffing his chest as though to hide his unease. "Then I shall be king," he said, his tone more boast than oath.
Cersei smiled faintly, pleased to see the fire in him. She leaned close, lowering her voice so only he could hear. "But remember, there are those who would take this from you. Some would place a council, or worse… let Lord Stark rule in your stead." The name dripped from her lips like venom.
"He wouldn't dare, I'm the King." Joffrey growled.
"I'll have his head on pike."
"NO..." Cersei immediately refused.
"What... why not. I'm the king. King get whatever he wish for." Joffrey chidded.
"Yes, of course. The king get whatever he wish. But, letting him live would prevent the north from starting a rebellion." Cersei suggest.
However, Joffrey didn't looked like he like that.
"Then I will kill them all. Send my armies and ravage the entire north. They wouldn't dare stand up against the king." Like a fool who doesn't understand anything about political warefare, he shouted.
Cersei was lost of words at this point. But she let it go for now. I'll try to explain her lion later on. Right now the most important thing was to capture Ned Stark and his daugther and take the control over the throne.
"I am king. Not Stark. Not anyone else. Me." Joffrey was keep on going.
Cersei's lips curved into a proud smile. That was all she needed—for her son to embrace his crown. The realm must see him strong, unquestioned.
But inside Joffrey's mind, darker thoughts stirred. He had not forgotten the humiliation Thor had put him through. The sight of Sansa Stark blushing at the mere mention of him still burned at his pride.
Oh, he will take care of that bitch sooner or later but now. He will make sure that northern man was put to his right place.
He said nothing to his mother yet, but quietly, he resolved. Orders would be given. Thor would be dealt with. The new king would not share his crown—or Sansa's gaze—with another man.
xxx
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