ACT ONE — CHAPTER SIX
Middle-Ground ✧*:･ﾟ

Castle Darry, 298 AC

Desmera Redwyne

The bailey of the small castle was crowded with knights and men-at-arms alike as they broke off into groups to organise the next wave of Lannister search parties. Their crimson cloaks fanned out behind them in the wind that keened down from behind the high stone walls of the keep and golden lions sat proudly on their chests, illuminated by the sun that hung above them in the early afternoon sky.

One of the knights was fumbling with the clasps on his chest plate, cursing loudly as his stubby fingers failed to do his armour up again and again. Desmera could not help but smile as she watched him. Serves him right, she thought amusedly, preparing to hunt down a little girl. Desmera held no illusions when it came to the true meaning behind the Lannisters incessant searching for Arya Stark.

Lord Eddard and his men were searching for the girl out of worry, not willing to leave her on her own to face the trials of the wilderness that lay alongside the Trident. She was a little girl who had not been seen in two days — the Stark soldiers were only concerned with returning her back to her father and siblings safely. As were Ser Elias and the few men he had brought with him from the Reach, who Desmera knew had been aiding Jon Snow with his part of the search since news of what happened had first reached them.

But the Lannisters had no such regard for Arya. Desmera did not doubt Queen Cersei had ordered them to bring Arya back to the king's party injured or not, nor would Cersei care as long as the girl returned to pay for the supposed attack she had orchestrated against the queen's precious Joffrey.

It was unsurprising that the Stark men seemed eager to get to Arya first.

The party's host, Lord Raymun Darry, whose keep had been taken over in the wake of the search, seemed just as eager for the Stark girl to be found, though not for the same reasons as everyone else. House Darry had been staunch supporters of the Targaryens during Robert's Rebellion — a fact that neither he nor King Robert had forgotten, and tensions had hung thick between the Baratheon and Darry factions over the past few days. With the Lannister, Stark and Tyrell men added on top of that, it was a recipe for disaster.

Already, Desmera knew Lord Darry and the king had been forced to put down disputes between their men, and the fighting between factions was undoubtedly only going to get worse if Arya was not brought back soon so that the king's party could move on.

Desmera herself had been greeted rather warmly by Lord Darry after she had been introduced to him alongside Myrcella. House Redwyne, too, had fought for the Targaryens in the last war — although, from what Desmera knew of their history it seemed her father had mainly sat around on his ships and antagonised Stannis Baratheon for the duration of the conflict — and it seemed Lord Raymun had not forgotten that either, just as he had not forgotten that it was Robert's men who had killed his cousin, Ser Jonothor, and driven his cousin, Ser Willem, to exile in Essos.

And of course, despite their Baratheon names, both Myrcella and Tommen had managed to endear themselves to the old lord as well. Anyone could see that the prince and princess were sweet children, innocent of their parents' crimes. Raymun Darry was no more able to resist their charms than anyone else they had met on their journey.

Whilst Joffrey had mostly been sulking in the chambers allotted to the royal family in Castle Darry since the incident along the Trident, Desmera, Myrcella and Tommen had been using the reprieve from travelling to explore the keep with Lord Darry's young son.

Lyman Darry was a gangly boy of Myrcella's age who seemed to know all of the secret passageways and hidden rooms throughout his family's keep, much to the delight of the other three children. It was he who led them through the bailey now. Lyman had insisted on showing the prince and princess Castle Darry's gardens, but in order to get to them they had to travel through the bustling main courtyard and out beyond the first curtain wall of the castle to where the gardens lay in between the inner and outer walls.

Ser Barristan Selmy trailed behind the four children. The old knight had ridden down the Kingsroad with Lord Renly to escort the royal party the rest of the way back to King's Landing the morning of the Trident incident and thus had landed himself stuck in Castle Darry with all the others. Currently, he was charged with watching over Prince Tommen and Princess Myrcella and, as such, had been an unfortunate companion to the children's many adventures the past two days.

He did not complain, though. The old knight was much too chivalrous for that. Desmera liked to think that Ser Barristan was one of the last true knights left in the realm and she knew the prince and princess much preferred to be guarded by him then some of the other members of King Robert's Kingsguard.

Desmera herself loathed the days when Ser Meryn Trant was charged with Myrcella and Tommen's care. The droopy-eyed knight always looked at her with barely concealed lust that made her want to run from his gaze and take a long, scouring bath. If I am ever alone with him, I shall take great pleasure in kneeing him between his fat little legs, Desmera had decided the first time he had spent one of his shifts gawking at her.

Today, however, Ser Meryn was off hunting Arya with Ser Jaime, and Desmera could relax under the watchful eyes of Barristan Selmy. He reminded Desmera of her grandfather on her Redwyne side in some ways — the old Lord Redwyne had died when she was little, but in her memories he was warm and white-haired just like Ser Barristan. She knew Barristan would likely cut his own hand off before he touched her inappropriately, and cut Ser Meryn's hand off before he got the chance to do so as well.

As long as Barristan Selmy was Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Desmera knew Ser Meryn would never be able to do more than stare at her.

The small group had just crossed to the other side of the bailey when a loud roaring screech came up from the northern gate of the keep. The great, iron portcullis of the castle was being heaved up, which could only mean that one of the search parties was returning.

Desmera hoped it did not mean that Arya had been captured by the Red Cloaks at last. If it is Arya, let her come through that gate with the Starks in tow.

Thankfully, it was men bearing the snarling direwolf of House Stark that cantered into the courtyard. Desmera breathed a sigh of relief as she noticed the young man leading the group. It was Eddard Stark's bastard son, Jon Snow, and wrapped in his arms sat his little sister.

Arya had been found by the Starks, just as Desmera had hoped.

But her relief proved short-lived as Jon Snow's mount came to a stop — Desmera recognised the captain of the Winterfell's household guard, Jory Cassel, as he reigned in by the boy's side — and was immediately swarmed by the men of the Lannister party Desmera and the others had passed by just a few moments before.

This is not going to end well, Desmera thought anxiously as she watched that same soldier that had struggled with his armour draw up ominously beside Ser Boros Blount, the apparent captain of this particular group of men-at-arms.

Ser Boros was almost as bad as Ser Meryn out of the seven that made up the Kingsguard, and one of Queen Cersei's loyal men to boot. The man was as homely as Meryn was as well, sporting a big bald head and prominent jowls. It was obvious he was not going to let Jon and his sister pass without trouble.

In the corner of her eye, Desmera caught Ser Barristan placing a hand over the pommel of his blade in anticipation.

"Go fetch the king," Barristan told young Lyman. The boy, despite being a lord and therefore outranking the old knight, was quick to run from Tommen's side and comply. He disappeared back into the castle as Desmera slipped a hand into Myrcella's to comfort the princess as they waited to watch what would happen next.

Jon Snow swung off his mount calmly. His feet hit the ground with a thud and he turned to whisper something to his sister in the saddle before he stepped forward towards Ser Boros and the other Lannister men. As if appearing from thin air, the boy's direwolf, Ghost, was suddenly by his side, snarling and snapping. The appearance of the white wolf was enough to send a few of the Lannister men scrambling back, but the mean-faced Ser Boros stood his ground.

"Step aside, Snow," he drawled, his voice as rough and as ugly as he was. "The queen has ordered the girl to be brought directly to her when found. We'll take care of your sister now."

Despite being much younger than the Kingsguard before him, Jon did not look afraid as Blount spoke. In fact, instead of fear in his eyes, there was mirth and he seemed to take great amusement in the older man's words. "Thank you, Ser Boros, but no thanks. I mean to keep my sister by my side until our father returns from his own search. If the queen wishes Arya to come before her, she can very well ask my lord father later on, once he has had the chance to reunite with his daughter. For now, Arya stays with me." His voice brokered no argument, but still Ser Boros continued.

"You would deny the queen, bastard?" He asked angrily, taking a step forward towards the boy. Ghost growled at the movement warningly, but the Kingsguard idiotically paid the wolf no mind.

"I'm not denying Her Grace anything," Jon shrugged. Jory Cassel had moved closer to Arya atop the boy's horse, ready to protect her should things escalate. "My lord father gave me orders to bring my sister directly to him. I'm merely doing as I was told. I am sure Lord Eddard would be most willing to bring Arya to visit the queen later if she wishes, but he will need to see his daughter first before he makes such a decision."

"Let the girl go, Ser Boros," Barristan said loudly from his spot across the bailey. He did not move from Prince Tommen's side, but his voice carried all the same and the hand on his sword was plain for everyone to see. "It will do no harm to the queen for her to allow the girl to see her father before she's brought before her. I imagine Lady Arya is most exhausted from the whole ordeal of the past few days and would be most pleased to have some time to gather her thoughts and make herself presentable before visiting Her Grace."

Even from this distance, Desmera could see Arya Stark bristle at being called 'lady', but one look from Jory beside her kept the girl from speaking aloud. If the circumstances were different, Desmera might have laughed at the sight.

"I'm just following orders, Selmy," Ser Boros spat, still unwilling to relent. The Lannister men around him had backed off some more, however, and were looking to one another in question. Clearly, they were unsure of what to do.

"We are Kingsguard, our orders come from the king," Barristan corrected his homely brother coldly. "And the king has said nothing of the girl having to be taken to him directly. I'm sure an allowance can be made to wait for Lord Eddard's return."

"Aye, it can," a new voice added to the fray.

Young Lyman had arrived back from inside the castle with King Robert in tow, just as Ser Barristan had demanded. The king's face was already red from wine and a button on his doublet had popped loose against the strain of his round stomach, but his eyes were wide and alert.

He looked between Jon and Ser Boros with a frown on his face. "I'll have no man of mine speaking to a son of Ned like that, bastard or not. Especially when Ned's boy has the right of it. It's a bloody miracle his sister has been found at all; we can afford to give the Starks some time to rejoice. As Ser Barristan told you, it is I who gives you orders, not my meddlesome wife, so you'll shut up and do as I tell you or you'll lose your heads. All of you."

The Lannister men blanched as the king stared them all down. Desmera had to give it to King Robert, he may have grown lazy with age but that did not make him any less intimidating. The Demon of the Trident, indeed.

Jon, however, bowed his head in a sign of respect as he seemed to remember his courtesies. "Thank you, Your Grace."

Arya bowed her head, too, but she did not say anything. Her eyes were ringed by darkness and if Desmera had to guess, the young girl had not eaten or slept in days. It was only then that Desmera realised that the girl's wolf was nowhere to be found. She had the beast with her during the incident with Joffrey, hadn't she? The wolf had supposedly taken a good chunk out of the arrogant prince's arm during the 'attack' after all. Where is the formidable creature?

Before she could think on it any further, King Robert was waving Jon and Arya off and sending them and their men on their way. He commanded Ser Boros to ride out with his party to find Ned Stark and inform him of his daughter's return (much to the Kingsguard's fury) before turning to where Ser Barristan stood with the three children and making his way over towards them.

King Robert patted Tommen on the head affectionately as he came to a stop, and threw a jovial wink at Myrcella and Desmera, before he turned to Ser Barristan and sighed. "That Ser Boros is a nasty piece of work, Selmy. I don't pity you having to command him. I still remember the days when the Kingsguard was full of the best knights of the Realm, hopefully I shall get to see a time like that again before I'm through."

If Ser Barristan was offended by the king's words, he did not show it. His face was the same impassive mask it always was in front of King Robert. "Of course, Your Grace," he said politely. "I hope the same."

Desmera remembered Ser Barristan served under the White Bull, Ser Gerold Hightower, once, along with renowned warriors like Ser Arthur Dayne and Prince Lewyn Martell. She wondered if he ever missed it. Probably, she thought, but to say that would be treason. He and his brothers fought against King Robert in the rebellion, just like Raymun Darry. I wonder whether he's spoken to Lord Darry about Ser Jonothor — he served in the Kingsguard alongside Barristan as well. Did the old knight see him fall? The thought sent a shiver up Desmera's spine.

Robert turned to his children then and frowned. "You two and your friends best be getting inside. If your mother has her way, there will be a council called as soon as Lord Eddard's returned and I expect Cersei will want you by her side for it, insipid woman. This whole business is ridiculous, I tell you." He muffled Tommen's hair again and knelt so that he was eye-to-eye with his youngest son. "You would never be so foolish as to get yourself beaten by a girl, would you, eh boy? No, you'll be a great warrior like your father some day." Tommen only giggled in response as Robert stood again and turned back to Ser Barristan.

"Escort my children and their friends back inside, Selmy. They should not have to bear witness to any more trouble, and with the Kingslayer, Joffrey's dog and Ned still about, there is bound to be some. Then see to it that your brothers follow my orders. I won't have my wife meddling anymore than she already has."

Ser Barristan nodded, ignoring the way Lyman, Desmera and the others deflated at the news that they would not get to see Castle Darry's gardens after all. King Robert had given an order and the king's word was final.

Desmera wondered whether she and Myrcella would be forced to return to the room where some of the other ladies of court had taken up their sowing. There was nothing else much to do with all the waiting around, but even there the tension between the ladies of House Darry and the ladies of Robert's court was palpable. Not to mention, Sansa Stark would be there with Jeyne Poole. Desmera had pointedly been trying to avoid the red-headed girl and her friend since they brushed her off when she tried to offer her condolences about what had happened with Arya the day before. The girl Jeyne had even gone so far as to hiss at her to leave them alone.

The thought made Desmera deflate even further, and she gripped Myrcella's hand tighter with her own as they reluctantly followed Ser Barristan back into the keep. King Robert bustled off, undoubtedly to continue drinking in his private chambers until Ned Stark returned.

Despite feeling sorry for Arya for the unpleasantness that lay ahead, Desmera could not help but hope that Lord Eddard would return soon and that there really would be a council called. At least that would be much more entertaining than spending the rest of the day doing needlework.

Seven hells, Desmera thought, maybe all this journeying is taking its toll if I am wishing to attend court. For the first time in my life, I cannot wait to be back in King's Landing.

__________

Jon Snow

The guilt had been eating away at him for days. He had been unable to sleep, unable to eat, unable to think about anything other than finding his sister. And now that he had Arya back, Jon would not let her out of his sight again until it was time for him to part ways with his family for Highgarden.

He knew it was not his fault for what had happened between his sister and Prince Joffrey alongside the Trident. Both Sansa and Arya explained to Jon and Lord Eddard what exactly had happened, and they knew that the only person to blame for the incident was Joffrey himself. But still, if Jon had not been so wrapped up in his own mind and his worries regarding Old Nan and her words, he might have been with his little sister when the accident occurred and able to help her.

Jon had been glad to be the one to find her in the end — although, in truth, Ghost had done most of the work for him and Jory — but it did not erase his guilt. And as he stood outside the audience chamber where his sister was supposed to meet with King Robert and Queen Cersei, Jon knew that he would do anything to ensure that Arya was not punished for something that she did not do.

They had already been forced to send Nymeria away for her safety. Whilst Jon was certain that Arya would not get into trouble for what happened, there was no denying that Nymeria had bitten the prince and, as such, there was no way the direwolf would be able to escape punishment. Jon and Jory had both agreed that Nymeria would be put down if they brought her back to Castle Darry with Arya. Sending the wolf away was a necessity. Jon just hoped it would be enough to satiate the queen.

Jon had come into command much over the past few days, especially since the arrival of the king's party at Castle Darry. Eddard Stark had been sick with fear for his youngest daughter and his bastard son had been more than happy to take his place in organising the searches whilst the older man rested and grieved.

Ghost had proved invaluable in ensuring the Starks found Arya before Queen Cersei's men. Nymeria was the wolf's sister, after all, and the direwolves had a connection with one another that went beyond that of common animals. Jon had just been glad to be allowed to bring his wolf with him — Sansa's Lady had been locked in Lord Darry's kennels on the order of the queen. It was only King Robert and his brother, Renly's, interference that had kept Ghost out of the kennels as well.

"His sister's beast may have harmed Joffrey," Renly Baratheon had said to Queen Cersei the first night after the attack. Jon had been standing in the king's tent outside the walls of Darry as his father, King Robert, Queen Cersei and the high-ranking men of their party discussed what to do in the wake of Arya's disappearance. "But I don't see how keeping the boy from his wolf will help bring the Stark girl back. Just because one egg is bad, does not mean they all are. If that were true, His Grace and I would be stomping around like Stannis all the time and outlawing any semblance of fun. No, I think Jon Snow should keep his Ghost, as long as he controls it."

Jon had blanched at the implication that Arya's wolf was a 'bad egg', but had managed to keep a hold of his tongue. It would not have done him any good to argue with a man who had been helping him in his own strange way. Especially as Lord Renly's words proved enough for King Robert to order Cersei to stand down and leave Ghost alone (for the moment, at least).

Now, Jon straightened up beside his sister as they waited for their father to return and let them know that the king and council were ready for them. Septa Mordane had forced Arya into a dress in an attempt to make her look more like an innocent lady in the eyes of the makeshift court, but his little sister looked so angry and uncomfortable at the fact that it had the opposite effect. Jon smiled as he watched her shuffle awkwardly on her feet.

"Stop that," he told her with a small smile, so she would know he did not intend to be strict. "You'll just make yourself look guilty by fidgeting. Soon this will all be over and you can go back to running around in your riding leathers all day. Maybe I'll even give you some lessons with Needle, how about that?

His attempt to cheer her up had not worked, however, and Arya turned to him with a frown. "You do not know that it will be over soon. What if the queen insists I be punished for harming her sweet Joff?" She said the last sentence with so much disdain that Jon could not help but chuckle and move to muss up her hair.

He ruffled her hair affectionately, knowing Septa Mordane would most likely curse him if she were there to see, before pulling away and gesturing to the pommel of the blade he wore at his hip. Jon had taken to wearing steel since the Trident. "She won't. And if she tries, I will make her regret it."

Arya's eyes were wide. "You cannot threaten the queen!"

Jon shrugged and gave her a wry smile. "I will have no need to, if she does not threaten you. There is nothing I would not do if it meant keeping my little sister safe, you should know that by now."

At his words, Arya teared up slightly and threw her arms around his middle. There had been a moment, in the forest by the Trident, when Jon had worried his sister might never forgive him for not being there for her during Joffrey's attack. But with her arms around him now, Jon knew his worries had been childish. They may not have the same mother, but they were family and there was nothing that could happen to change that.

Just as Arya began to pull away and ask whether Jon had been true in his offer to train her with Needle, Lord Eddard slipped back through the doors of the chamber and faced his children. Jon knew Sansa was already inside with Jory, ready to come forward and give her version of events if it proved necessary.

"Is it time?" Jon asked him to break the heavy tension that had suddenly filled the air.

Ned gave his two children a reassuring smile. "Yes," he said, "but do not worry. We have had time to get our stories straight thanks to Robert granting us the afternoon to reunite and allow your sister to recuperate." He turned to Arya then and knelt down before her, holding his daughter by the arms. "As long as you tell the truth, sweetling, the queen and her son will have no leg to stand on. They cannot presume to punish you without reason."

Arya nodded at her father and her chest puffed out in resolution. "I will tell the truth. Joffrey attacked me and Mycah. He is the one responsible for what happened."

"You explain that to the king," Ned agreed soberly before rising to his feet again and gesturing for the two of them to follow. As he led the two siblings into the room, Ned hung back behind Arya to address Jon. "If the queen refuses to listen, she will have the Lannister guards at her back. You have spoken to Ser Elias and his men?"

"The Tyrells are on our side," Jon told his father, eyeing the first lords and ladies they passed with apprehension. "They may be few, but they are better than nothing. We will not let them harm Arya. But from what I saw in the courtyard earlier, I do not think King Robert or Ser Barristan will allow the Lannisters to harm her either."

"Good," Lord Eddard said, but he did not look entirely convinced. Jon knew that his father resented Cersei Lannister for insisting on the council at all. The public nature of having this meeting in Lord Darry's audience chamber was undoubtedly a purposeful choice by the queen and Jon knew his father would have much rather settled the matter with King Robert in private.

Alas, it seemed the will of even the king only stretched so far when pit against the might of House Lannister, and Robert had been forced to concede to his wife and her followers along with everyone else. The Lannisters might just be the most deadly force in the Seven Kingdoms, Jon thought wearily. The idea of Arya, Sansa and his father being surrounded by such people in the capital still did not sit right with him. The Lannisters were to be watched, for sure.

He caught Elias' eye as he followed his father and sister up to the raised dais where the royal family sat. The Reach knight gave Jon a small nod, and he immediately felt himself relax a little. At least we will not be facing the lions alone.

King Robert was slumped on Darry's high chair, his face redder than it had been earlier in the day as he had evidently drunk much and more in the time since he had settled Jon's depute with the Red Cloaks.

Cersei and Joffrey were by his side. The queen's eyes glittered with malice as she watched Jon's sister and father approach, and her hand tightened on her son's bandaged shoulder. Princess Myrcella and Prince Tommen stood with Ser Barristan and Lord Renly on the king's other side, whilst Myrcella's little friend — Desmera, Jon thought her name was — stood uncharacteristically away from the princess and down beside Ser Elias.

Of course they know one another, Jon chastised himself as he eyed them with surprise, they are both highborns of the Reach.

"I do not see the need for this," Lord Eddard spoke loudly as he drew himself and Arya to a stop in front of the king. He kept his shoulders high and Jon watched from behind as he gave Arya's hand a reassuring squeeze. His sister looked nervous and Jon could not blame her. The contempt in the queen's eyes would be enough to send any man running for the hills. "Robert, you know you are like a brother to me. Let us settle this in private and spare our children this fanfare."

Jon knew his father had attempted to seek an audience with the king earlier in the day, upon his initial return to the keep. But Robert was adamant that the council would go ahead as his wife wanted, and there had been no swaying him after the fact.

"You dare speak to your king in such a way!" Queen Cersei snapped. When he had first laid eyes on her, Jon had thought the queen to be one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. Now, with her face twisted in delusional fury, to think Cersei Lannister anything other than a snarling lioness seemed silly. "That girl of yours attacked my son. Her and that butcher's boy. That animal of hers tried to tear his arm off!" Those green eyes turned to Jon then and he had to force himself not to baulk underneath their gaze. "Perhaps your bastard played a role in it too. Ser Boros has told me of how he took it upon himself to refuse my order for the girl to be brought directly to me."

Jon could practically feel his father willing him to not bite back, so he kissed his teeth with his tongue and kept silent. The queen was a liar, but they had to trust that once the king heard Arya's testament of what happened that he would force his wife to let the mummery she clung to go.

"Oh, quiet woman!" Robert said, straightening in his seat and rubbing a tired hand across his face. "I told you, I was the one who commanded Ser Boros to stand down. Ned's boy had the right of it and don't you dare insult him again. I am the king, not you. Shut your mouth before I make you."

Cersei's mouth clamped into a thin line at the rebuttal, but her eyes spoke a thousand words. Jon was suddenly grateful that the Kingslayer was out searching for the butcher's boy and was not present to attempt something stupid in the name of his sister's honour. He remembered the casual cruelty he had seen in Jaime Lannister's eyes when he had confronted him that morning by the Trident all too well, and he did not want Arya anywhere near it.

"Now," the king began again, turning his attention to Arya, "Joff claims that you and the butcher's boy beat him with clubs while you set your wolf on him." The exasperation in his voice showed that Robert did not believe a single word that passed his lips, but it was enough to get Arya tearing up again all the same.

"That's not how it was," Arya said as she clung closer to her father.

Lord Eddard sighed and placed one of his hands on his daughter's shoulder before stepping closer to where his old friend sat with a pleading look on his face. "Your Grace, I have reason to believe your son is lying. Both my girls tell the same story and in it, it was Joffrey who provoked Arya, not the other way around."

The crown prince's pouty face curled up into a crimson fury like his mother's then. "They're the ones who are lying! How dare you question me, I am your prince! They all attacked me and she," he glared daggers at Arya then, "threw Lion's Tooth in the river!"

Jon might have laughed at the ridiculous and oh so very Lannister name Joffrey had given his sword if he were not so focused on watching King Robert and Queen Cersei for their own reactions. His sword hand rested permanently on the pommel by his side and out of the corner of his eye he could see Elias' gaze firmly locked on him, ready for when Jon gave the signal.

"Enough," the king said. He rose from his chair and glowered sternly at his son. "Ned is my Hand, he may speak as he pleases." Robert once more faced his childhood friend with a frown. His eyes darted between Ned and Arya. "Child," he told the girl, "you will tell me what happened. Tell it all and tell it true. It is a great crime to lie to a king."

Joffrey and Cersei both bristled but King Robert held up a hand to silence them. "When she is done, my son may then have his turn. Until then, Joffrey will hold his tongue," his raised eyebrows brokered no question.

Jon felt himself relax slightly as Arya nodded at the king and began to tell the story of what had happened that morning by the Trident. He did not see how there was any way someone could listen to her version of events and not believe her. Unlike Joffrey, Arya's story was much more realistic and she was not shy to own up to her own mistakes.

When his sister got to the part about how she had taken the prince's sword from him and tossed it off into the Trident, Jon could not help the small, proud smile that crept its way up his face. And it seemed he was not the only one amused by the tale, for Renly Baratheon laughed so hard that King Robert had to ask Ser Barristan to escort him from the hall. Renly had refused, of course, citing that he did not need an escort, and his laughter could still be heard echoing through the walls of the keep long after his body disappeared from view.

Lord Renly's last words to his nephew hung uncomfortably in the air. "Perchance later you'll tell me how an eleven-year-old girl the size of a wet rat managed to disarm you with a broom handle and throw your sword in the river. Lion's Tooth. What folly!"

Once Arya had finished, King Robert gestured to Joffrey to begin his very different version of events. Events, Jon noticed, that painted him in the most favourable light, just as Jon and his father had anticipated.

Robert, however, was not yet so convinced of his son's lies. He rose from his chair once more, looking like a man who would rather be doing anything else. He is more a warrior than a king, Jon thought to himself. He despises having to handle this situation more than any of us. "What in the seven hells am I supposed to make of this? He says one thing, she says another."

Stark honour meant much more than the shit Lannister's had for honour, Jon wanted to say. But he knew antagonising the queen and her family would only succeed to weaken Arya's case. It was time for Sansa to be brought forward. She, at least, had been present at the Trident and could verify Arya's version of events. By the Gods, I should have been there too. I will never make that mistake again.

"They were not the only ones present," Lord Eddard said. "Sansa, come here." Both his father and Jon had heard Sansa's version of events the night after Arya had first gone missing. They knew that she was telling the truth. "Tell us what happened."

Sansa looked like a fish out of water as Jon took her in arm and led her away from Jory to be presented in front of King Robert. Her eyes swivelled wildly between their father and Prince Joffrey, and Jon's stomach sank as he realised what the expression on her face meant. Despite not being as close as they could have been as children, Jon had grown up around Sansa all the same. And he knew what she was thinking at that moment.

"Sansa..," he whispered so that the royal family would not be able to hear. "Do not do it.. you must tell the truth..."

But it was too late. His sister had taken one look at Cersei and Prince Joffrey — at the hatred in their eyes — and lost any of the courage she'd had earlier in the day when she had agreed to accompany her family to the audience chamber.

"I don't remember," she blurted out timidly. She looked ready to bolt, only Jon's fingers gripping her arm held her in place. "I don't know. Everything happened so fast, I didn't see..."

Arya exploded in anger, flying at Sansa like an arrow and only just being restrained by Jory in time to stop her scratching at her sister's face. Jon understood her reaction. Part of him wanted to shout at Sansa for lying too. How could she stand there and pretend she did not know what transpired when it could mean her younger sister might be harmed? But he also knew Sansa was in a more precarious position than the rest of her family, being betrothed to the prince. She no doubt did not want to risk angering Joffrey and his mother by telling the truth.

Jon sighed and quickly let go of Sansa's arm in shame as he realised he had been gripping her too tightly in his fury. So much for justice prevailing. Now it really is Arya's word against the crown prince.

"Arya, stop it!" Ned Stark shouted as Arya wriggled around in Jory's arms. Sansa looked pale and was staring, unseeing, at her sister.

This was all the proof Cersei Lannister needed. "That girl is as wild as that filthy animal of hers," she said. "I want her punished!"

Jon pushed Sansa behind his back and met Elias' eyes before rounding on the queen. "I would die before I let you touch either of my sisters!"

"Jon—" Ned Stark warned.

"You would dare—" Cersei's green eyes burned like wildfire as she started angrily towards Jon. He was not afraid, though. Let her do to me what she will, Jon thought, as long as she leaves Arya and Sansa alone.

"Seven hells!" Robert swore, loud enough to cut off all the arguing and once again bring quiet to the room. He turned to his wife, silently goading her not to disobey him. "Cersei, look at the girl. She is a child. What would you have me do, whip her through the streets? Damn it, children fight. It's over. No lasting harm was done. Perhaps his wound will teach Joffrey a lesson." He looked to his oldest friend then, and his eyes softened. "Ned, see your daughter is disciplined and that your boy minds his tongue in the future. I will do the same with my son."

Ned moved forward and practically yanked Jon's hands off the pommel of his sword. He gave his son a look that implied they would talk later before replying to the king. "Gladly, Your Grace."

But Cersei Lannister was not done. All tension wormed its way back into his body as she levelled her eyes onto Jon's own. The challenge was silent but unmistakable. He had insulted her and her son, along with his family, and she was not going to let it slide without some sort of lasting consequence. "And what of the direwolf?" She called out to Robert who had begun to leave. "What of the beast that savaged your son?"

The king sat back down into his chair with a tired sigh. "I had forgotten about the wolf."

Jon and Jory looked to one another, whilst Arya shuffled uncomfortably in the latter's arms. They had expected this and knew what to say. Let it be enough, Jon prayed.

"We found no trace of the direwolf, Your Grace," Jory said quickly and Jon felt Sansa take his arm again as they waited for the king's response.

Robert did not seem displeased with this. In fact, he seemed glad. "No? So be it."

"We have another wolf," Cersei offered, her eyes honed in on the Starks and Jon knew that this was what she had wanted to happen all along. "Two, actually."

His whole body stiffened as he thought of the implication of the woman's words. Sansa had frozen as well and looked to her brother with confusion in her eyes. The fact that she had turned to him in this moment instead of their father might have warned Jon's heart if it was not currently full with fear for Ghost.

"No," Jon said before he could think on what he was doing. He had not shouted, but the hardness of his voice was enough to turn the king's attention back to him. Jon looked at Robert with wide, disbelieving eyes. "Please, Your Grace, I understand that your son was gravely injured by Arya's wolf, but mine and Sansa's direwolves had nothing to do with it. They are innocent and do not deserve to be punished for a crime they played no part in."

"I will not have those beasts in King's Landing!" Cersei insisted.

"Then banish them from the capital," a new voice put in. Jon turned in time to see Elias shake his head at him to tell him not to interrupt, before the knight stepped in front of the king and bowed. "But you need not kill them."

"And who are you?" Robert said, intrigued. The king looked immensely grateful that someone had interrupted what would have undoubtedly been another dispute between Jon and the queen. There are only so many times he can listen to, and defend, a bastard, Jon realised bitterly. The king would have taken Cersei's side this time, Jon was sure of it.

"Ser Elias Mullendore, if it pleases you, Your Grace," Elias continued. "I am in the service of House Tyrell and am charged with Jon Snow's care until we reach Highgarden. I understand that Her Grace does not want the wolves near her family in the wake of the prince's injury, but it would be a waste to kill such magnificent creatures, especially since neither one of them were the beast who injured your son."

"Go on."

But it was Jon who spoke next. "We will take the wolves with us to Highgarden," he said, catching on to his friend's plan. "Ghost and Lady will be far from King's Landing there, and will be much happier amongst the gardens of the Reach than stuck in the busy city."

Elias nodded. "Lord Willas trains hounds, Your Grace. I am sure he would not be displeased to have two direwolves under his care. In fact, I imagine he will view the wolves as a new challenge. With both Willas and Jon present, the two direwolves will be kept well under control and Lady Sansa may travel to the Reach whenever she wishes to visit her own wolf in time, as long as Lord Eddard permits. I know Lord Tyrell would not object to welcoming a member of another great house into his home."

Sansa did not look entirely happy at this prospect, but from the lack of objections spilling from her lips Jon knew she understood that what Elias was proposing was much better than the alternative. At least this way they would keep both Lady and Ghost alive. And Jon did not truly plan on keeping his sister's wolf away from her in Highgarden forever.

Queen Cersei did not look pleased either, but it was a fair compromise to what she herself had proposed. It was evident that the king had not cared for the idea of killing an innocent animal in place of the true perpetrator of Joffrey's attack and there was no way she could continue to argue for Lady or Ghost's deaths without coming off in an unfavourable light. Especially when Robert looked eager to agree with the Mullendore knight at once.

Jon bit back a smile as he watched the queen falter for a minute before she painted a venomous grimace on her face. When she next spoke, she did it through gritted teeth. "Fine. But if I hear wind of one of those beasts anywhere near King's Landing instead of down the roseroad where they belong, I will have it hunted down and skinned alive."

That was as much concession as the Starks and Ser Elias were likely to get, but it was enough for Robert to crack an exasperated grin and slap his leg heartedly. "Good, then it is settled. The direwolves will go to the Reach. Now, I call an end to this council. We will rest here again for tonight, but tomorrow we will continue our journey to King's Landing."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Jon flashed Ser Elias a thankful grin before following after his siblings as his father began leading them out of the chamber. He glimpsed Queen Cersei ushering her children out of another doorway with a scowl — Ser Boros Blount dogging their steps all the while — and felt a flush of pride that his family had managed to make it through the meeting without allowing the malevolent woman to order any of their heads to be lopped off.

If Jon had harboured any remaining doubts about Queen Cersei's nature before, he certainly did not now.

As soon as Lord Eddard and his children had made their way back up the steps to the chambers they had been given by Lord Darry, Sansa rounded on her father and brother with a frown.

"Will Lady really have to go with Jon?" She asked quietly, as if afraid the Lannisters might still be able to hear.

"I'm afraid so, dear one. You heard the queen. If she finds Lady in the capital, she will have her killed," Sansa deflated as Ned Stark spoke, but her father did not seem to notice for he had already turned his attention back on Jon. "What you did in there was both incredibly brave and incredibly stupid. I am proud of you for standing up for your sisters, but I will never hear you speak to any of your superiors like that again. The Lannister woman may be nasty, but she has more power and more influence than almost anyone else in the Seven Kingdoms. I will not see your hurt because you cannot learn to control your tongue."

Jon flushed, but he had expected a scolding. He knew that if Lady Catelyn were here with her husband she would complain of the devious nature of bastards and remind him to remember his place. Like I could ever forget it.

He had not spoken up to the queen because of insolence caused by the fact he was a bastard; he had spoken up to her because he knew he was the only one who could. Sansa, Arya, his father — they would all be trapped with the Lannisters in the Red Keep in barely a moon's turn time and vulnerable to any retaliation the lions may order enacted in response to wounds against their pride. But Jon would be in the Reach by then, and as free from the Lannister clutches as he possibly could be. Cersei might send someone after him, but they would never get to him in time before he could flee. Jon had the freedom to shun his heritage and live his life in exile if he wished. A freedom his siblings did not have.

But he took his father's tongue lashings all the same. Lord Eddard was only worried, and it was always gratifying to be reminded that Jon had a father who cared about his well-being. Most of those in his situation did not.

"Yes, Father," he said solemnly.

"Good," Ned Stark looked exhausted. The mental toll of the past few days had finally caught up to him. "And make sure you tell Ser Elias that he has my thanks. The Lannisters are not the only ones who pay their debts and House Stark owes him a great boon." He did not wait to see if Jon agreed before he swept through the door of his family's temporary chambers after Arya and Jory.

Only Sansa and Jon were left standing outside the room. Jon gave his sister a slight bump on the shoulder with his hip as he noticed the tears that still threatened to spill from her eyes.

He looked around for a moment to check no one else was around before he leant down to whisper, "Do not worry, Sansa. I mean to find some way to return Lady to you, I promise. With the queen's threat it might take some time — I imagine she will have your chambers watched when you arrive at the Red Keep just in case — but I know Ser Loras Tyrell frequents the capital often and I am sure we can figure something out. It will have to be our secret for now though."

Sansa brightened up at the prospect. It was strange to see so much happiness in her expression directed towards him. Whenever she usually looked at Jon, it was with disdain. "Really? You would do that?"

"I promise," Jon said seriously.

His sister gave him a shy smile — it seemed she had not quite forgotten the space she had forged between the two of them either, but it was a start nonetheless. Sansa wrapped her arms around him in a quick, awkward hug before following after her father in disappearing into the room behind her. Jon watched her go with a smile of his own. Prior to that night, he and Sansa had not hugged since they were children. Well at least a better relationship with my sister has come out of me risking my life by defying the queen.

Deciding that he was not quite ready to retire for bed just yet, Jon headed back down the steps of the keep and towards the hall where a late supper would undoubtedly be served for those only just returning from their search parties.

The events of the past day had made him hungry and Jon planned on eating a good meal before heading out to visit where the queen had ordered Ghost and Lady chained up in the kennels.

A half hour later, Jon was sat at one of the wooden tables in the Great Hall of Castle Darry by his lonesome, breaking off wedges of bread from the small loaf he had been served by the castle cook to dip into the steaming broth that lay before him. He had just begun to think of ways he might be able to get Lady back to Sansa once he had safely arrived with the wolf in Highgarden, when a heavy body sat down on the bench opposite him and startled him out of his thoughts.

He looked up to find Raymun Darry sitting before him. The older lord had golden-brown hair cropped above his shoulders and a thick, golden beard. But it was his eyes that bore into Jon now — a lively brown that seemed capable of piercing the boy down to his soul. Jon felt uneasy under the man's gaze and he swallowed a thick mouthful of broth and bread as he waited for the lord to speak.

"You're Lord Eddard's boy?" Raymun eventually asked. His voice was gruff and deep, but not unkind. Jon supposed that was something considering his father and Lord Darry had fought on opposite sides during King Robert's Rebellion.

"Aye," Jon nodded, still confused as to why Lord Raymun had approached him at all. Yes Ned Stark was his father, but he was still only a bastard.

"You have the Stark look," the older man said, his eyes peering at Jon closely. "Though you look more like your Uncle Brandon than you do Ned."

That was new, Jon had never heard that comparison before. But he supposed it was fair. From what he knew, all of Lord Rickard's children had taken after him except for Benjen, who had his father's face but his mother's grey-blue eyes instead. Jon knew Brandon Stark had been betrothed to Lady Catelyn prior to his father and had spent a great deal of time in the Riverlands before his death. In the North, the lords knew his father and grandfather best, but a southern lord like Raymun Darry had probably been more familiar with Jon's uncle and more likely to associate Jon's 'Stark look' with him.

"Your little sister has the look as well — the one who supposedly attacked the prince," Raymun continued, not noticing as Jon bristled at the mention of Joffrey. "But she looks more like—"

"My Aunt Lyanna," Jon finished. "So everyone says."

Raymun cracked a smile. "Aye, I suppose they do." He leant forward then and clapped Jon on the back. "It was brave what you did, standing up to those lions. I've never been a fan of the Lannisters myself." The bold way in which he spoke against the queen and her family surprised Jon, but then again, the Darry's had been staunch Targaryen loyalists and even King Robert had not done as much to bring about the fall of the last dragons as House Lannister had. Jon knew his father had never forgiven Jaime Lannister for stabbing the king he had sworn to protect in the back, nor Lord Tywin for ordering the murder of Prince Rhaegar's wife and babes.

"That Mullendore boy said you're heading to the Reach to squire under the Tyrells. Is it true?"

Once more, Jon nodded. Despite having relaxed a bit as Lord Raymun continued speaking, he was still uneasy as to the man's true intentions behind approaching him at all. Surely telling him that he looked like his uncle and complimenting him on standing up to the queen were not the only reasons he had for speaking to Jon?

"Good," Lord Raymun said. He had that strange look back in his eye, like he was trying to solve a puzzle that he did not understand. Jon grew restless under the weight of it. "You'll make a fine knight someday, lad. I do not doubt you'll make your House proud."

With that, the Lord of Castle Darry clapped Jon on the back once more before sweeping up off the wooden bench and heading off to talk to some men-at-arms across the hall, leaving a still confused Jon in his wake.

It was not until Ser Elias sought Jon out and threw himself down into the lord's empty seat that he snapped out of the daze Ser Raymun had left him in. And even as Elias began to gush about how he and Jon had managed to save Lady earlier, and Jon confided in the young knight the thanks that his father had wished to tell him, his eyes stayed glued to the spot in which Raymun Darry had disappeared from view.

"I do not doubt you'll make your House proud." Jon could not shake the feeling that there was more to the man's statement than just talking about House Stark.

author's notes.

first update of 2024 — here's to the next update not taking as long (i hope)