Chapter 41
SANSA STARK
She had heard many stories about her mother's home, and the castle had managed to live up to them all. Winterfell was a castle built with function in mind, the keep had little to no room for opulence and luxuries, for it was built for winter and war.
Riverrun, on the other hand, was much smaller and relatively newer. Its walls were fashioned to look like the scales of a fish, and the sigil of House Tully was incorporated into all parts of the castle.
Winterfell was so vast that, despite spending her entire life there, she had yet to explore it fully. While it had taken her but a few weeks, and she had already seen all she could of the castle.
She would have gotten bored here all by herself, though thankfully, Cregan had come to visit their grandfather as well, bringing along his intended—the Princess. And unlike her own sister, the Princess and herself had much more in common.
Though she had not missed how the Princess had grown quite bold and assertive, and was not afraid of throwing a tantrum or two to get her way. Even then, she seemed helpless in front of Cregan, who had departed to his own keep a few days ago.
And she still could not believe it that her twin had already become a lord. Her twin had helped uncover a great plot against the King and his family and had been rewarded richly for it.
Harrenhall was a castle famous throughout the continent, and though she worried greatly about its curse, her twin had assured her that he would be careful and take all the necessary precautions.
And it was not only the Princess and Cregan who had come to Riverrun. Her Aunt and great-uncle had come from the Vale as well to pay their respects to Lord Houster Tully, who was on his deathbed.
She had yet to meet her Aunt, who remained secluded in her room, refusing to see anyone. Her Grand Uncle, Brynden, was a famous knight, known throughout the land as the Blackfish.
He was old and filled with a thousand tales from times long gone. He had even ridden against Prince Rhaegar and the famous Arthur Dayne in a tourney at Harrenhall years ago and had told them all about the majestic tourney in great detail.
Her and the princess had been much interested in the dresses, and the ladies who had been present, though Arya had been more interested in the stories about the toruney and the melee.
But Sansa had now come to terms with the differences between the two of them. It was why the Princess's presence was a blessing for her, as she found in her a companion as her mother remained busy caring and praying for her ailing father.
"He still has not written to me," the Princess complained as they sat down for breakfast.
"He should have reached Harrenhall by now," she added, sulking as she continued to play with her porridge.
"Who has dared offend the Princess?" her Great Uncle Brynden added as he appeared behind her, his hair wet with sweat from morning training, perhaps.
Myrcella glanced back and complained to him as well.
"Cregan," she replied as her uncle raised a brow.
"Oh! My own nephew dares offend the Princess," he said with a smile as he sat down between them, as the Hall began to fill up with guards and squires coming in for breakfast.
"He promised that he would write to me as soon as he reached Harrenhall, but it has been a few days, and yet no letter has come from him," and she saw the old knight's lips turn up, yet he nodded seriously.
"Such insolence! I shall see him punished for it as soon as he returns," he said, ruffling up her hair as the Princess's expression turned a bit cold, as she began to look at her a bit nervously.
"No," she began slowly.
"There is no need for that," her uncle smirked, and the Princess continued nervously.
"He must have gotten busy," she was quick to defend him, as the grey-haired knight continued in pretence.
"Maybe. But he must know better," he added sagely.
"Ignoring a Princess is a crime, and he should be punished for it," but the Princess shook her head.
"No. There is no need for punishment. You should just tell him to stop being so busy and spend more time with me," she added, as Ser Brynden.
"If you say so, Princess," he added as he began to look around the table.
"Where is your sister?" he asked her as Sansa slowly bit into the fish soup that had been prepared for her.
"She is still asleep." Arya had spent the entire night foolishly chasing after a cat, and so she was still too tired to wake up.
"And your mother?" and she did not know where she was.
"I don't know. I have not seen her since last night," and that was not so unusual, given that she had been spending most of her nights with her father.
Still, she saw him frown as he called for a servant, and as the maid lowered her head, she saw him whisper into her ears.
The servant nodded and went off as he broke his fast with some porridge and bacon. The knights and the other servants all broke their fast in the Great Hall.
Sansa finished her meal, and as her mother remained absent from the table, she decided to go and search for her, since she had been absent from the dinner as well.
"I will go and look for mother," she said to Ser Brynden, who shook his head.
"You don't have to. I have sent a servant to go and call her," he said, but she shook her head.
"I will do it myself," she suggested, for she did not have anything better to do.
"Princess," she gave the young blonde a small bow as she made her way out of the Great Hall and headed towards her mother's room, and as she reached the doors, she turned towards the guards.
"Is my mother inside?" she asked, and they shook their heads.
"No, my lady," they answered enthusiastically.
"Lady Catelyn did not return to her room last night," and she frowned.
"Is she with Grandfather?" she asked.
"No, my lady. She went to meet Lady Lysa and did not return afterwards," and she had heard many things about her aunt. Some good, some bad, and some worse.
The good had come from her own mother, and the worse from her twin, who had called the woman a rather unique collection of words ranging from an idiot to a traitor.
He had also asked her to be cautious around the woman, not that she had been given the opportunity to put his words into action, as her aunt refused to see anyone at all.
So, after thanking the guards for their help, she turned around and made her way to the other side of the corridor where a series of stairs led up to her aunt's room.
Two guards were stationed there as well, and she greeted them again.
"Is my mother up there?" she asked, and the two men nodded in response.
"Yes, Lady Catelyn is in the room. Lady Lysa came down and told us that she had fallen asleep in her room. She asked us not to disturb her," and she frowned at those words, finding it surprising that her mother would choose to sleep in her sister's room rather than her own.
"And where is Lady Lysa?" she asked, and the two guards looked at each other.
"We do not know, my lady. The other guards told her only this," and it was strange, for she had not seen her at all. In the end, she began to climb up the stairs,
And she was forced to cover her nose as a pungent was spread all around the stairs. It grew thicker and thicker as she climbed up and up, as she reached the door and began to knock on it.
"Mother! "Mother," she began, and yet she heard no answer. Yet, suddenly, she noticed that the door was not locked. It was not polite to enter a room without permission, but the smell was so pungent that she began to feel her stomach turn upside down.
And as no answer came, she decided that she must go in. Just as she pushed the door, she missed the thunderous sound of footsteps behind her and Ser Brynden's shout.
"SANSA! Wait!" he shouted as he jumped up the stairs, yet it was too late, as the door was open, and she saw the source of the pungent, rotting smell lying in front of her.
"AHHHH!"
0000
EDDARD STARK
Eddard had been woken up early by the news of the Queen entering into her labors and had not had the chance to sit down ever since. The entire castle was abuzz with servants rushing from one place to another as the Maester took the Queen to the birthing chambers for the birth.
The screams were loud, and he had been told that the child was in the wrong position, making the birth difficult and arduous. And despite Robert's rage, there was little anyone could do for her, as they simply waited outside the chambers as the Queen's screams tore through the castle.
"I cannot wait like this," Robert finally gave up, as he turned towards him.
"You can go, I will wait here," he said, but Robert shook his head, and he had seen his friend so nervous only before battle. But he did not blame him for this nervousness, for even Eddard would grow nervous each time his own wife would enter the birthing chamber to give birth.
After all, childbirth was no less dangerous than a war in a way.
"I must go and visit the Sept. I have been making the High Septon delay his prayer, but it seems I can do it no more," and there was little he could do to help him in that regard.
"What about the Prince?" he asked, for Prince Tommen stood a few paces away from them and had been sitting beside his mother when her labors began.
And for all his bravery, he was young and should not be here for this. But the boy was nervous and was glued to his father's side.
"I will take him with me," Robert added after a second's thought as Eddard nodded.
"Go, I will take care of it all," and with that, Robert turned away and walked out of the corridor as Eddard began to pace outside the room, his heart racing as the Queen's screams grew louder and louder.
Eddard paced back and forth, still tired from his lack of sleep. Although his workload had decreased after the arrival of the new Master of Coin, he was still fulfilling the duties of both the Hand of the King and the Master of Laws.
And Robert had already added to his work by dismissing his other brother from his position as well. While he had tried to defend Lord Renly, there was little he could say in defense of the Lord of Dragonstone.
Lord Stannis had refused to heed his King's command, and though the man may have his own reasons, he had turned down the King too many times. And now the realm was without another councellor, which he was to replace.
He had hoped to write to the Lord of the Pyke, or more specifically his brother the Lord Rodrik Harlaw of Ten Towers, to offer him the position, yet Robert had spoken against his choice. He had not forgotten the treason of the Iron Islands and would not consider having any of them in his council.
Though they had finalised a name for the new Master of Laws. Robert had suggested that he name another Northern Lord to the position, but in the end, he had convinced him that such a notion could divide the realm. After much consideration, they agreed to name a Lord from the Reach to the position.
They were the realm's second most prosperous kingdom and grew the largest amount of grain. In these times, when the actions of the traitor Baelish had beggared the Crown, they needed to bring such a wealthy and fertile land closer to the Crown.
It was politics, and though Cregan may be gone, his replacement was already here. Lord Manderly may be fat and boisterous, but only a few saw the sharp mind hidden underneath all that skin and fat.
It had been he who had suggested the name of Randyll Tarly, a stern but fair lord who was respected throughout the lands.
Robert had been reluctant to name him, having not forgotten about the loss he had suffered at the man's hand during the Rebellion. But in the end, he had been convinced that the other two options were Lord Kevan Lannister or Mace Tyrell.
And of the three, Robert had chosen The Lord of Horn Hill.
So, with the King gone, Eddard did his duty as his hand and saw to the running of the castle, as Maesters, acolytes, and midwives all walked in and out of the Queen's chambers as her screams filled the air.
He stood there dutifully as a Hand would, until he saw an acolyte stumbling while running towards the door.
"Be careful," he chastised the young lad whose face was pale and sweaty.
"My lord, I have received some urgent missives," and he frowned as he replied sternly.
"The Queen is in labor. You can bring them to her later," he warned, but the man shook his head.
"My lord, they are not addressed to the Queen. They are addressed to you," and that made him stop as he turned to face the man once more.
"From where?" he asked, putting his hand forward.
"One is from Dragonstone, and the other is from Harrenhall. Both of them are meant for your eyes only," and that made him still, for he had little reason to receive a missive from both of these locations.
He took the two scrolls and dismissed the man, and he quickly broke the seal of the first missive. It was the one from Harrenhall, and as his eyes skimmed over the contents, he stilled as he read about the attempt on his son's life by a few Vale lords.
"Seven Hells!" and his body burned with rage, though there was some solace that his son had managed to come out unscathed out of the attack, but it remained to be seen whether this was an isolated incident or a greater conspiracy.
He had half a mind to pick a horse and ride straight to Harrenhall.
And so, he put it in his hand, as he broke the seal on the second scroll, hoping that it bore some news better than the first one.
Yet his hopes were dashed as he saw that it was the Maester of the castle who had written to him. And he knew of Cressen, the old Maester who had served the Baratheons for years and had even accompanied them during some parts of the campaign.
His hand had grown unsteady over the years. Yet, his words were equally if not even more damning than the earlier missives, for Stannis Baratheon had just departed from Dragonstone along with the entire armada.
And though the old man did not state his purpose explicitly, Eddard was old enough to read between the lines as he realised that the Lord of Dragonstone was not coming here in peace.
The man was here to make war.
There could be but one reason that would justify such a drastic measure, and his body grew cold as he found himself at the center of such chaos. He glanced back towards the birthing chambers, as another scream from the Queen rippled through the castle as he stood there rooted to the ground.
But he knew that he had to act.
"Tell Desmond I need to see him at once. Have him wait in my office while I go and meet Robert," he said to one of the guards, as the man nodded and ran out of the corridor, and just as he was about to move, the doors behind him opened as the old Maester stepped out.
"My lord, the Queen has given birth," and his heart stilled as he turned to face Pycell.
"She has?" he asked, and the old man nodded.
"Yes, it was a difficult time, and she has bled much. But the Seven have blessed her with a healthy young girl," and at that, his heart sank as he remembered the promise he had made to himself months ago.
"I wish to see the child," he said.
"What about your grace?" Pycelle asked as Eddard slowly walked into the room and saw acolytes and servants all buzzing around the Queen.
"He has gone to the Sept to pray. I will have him summoned." Just then, a midwife stepped forward, cradling a young babe in her arms as his heart thumped in his chest in anticipation.
"The Queen is exhausted and has lost much blood. But she will be fine," Pycelle continued, as the midwife lowered her arms to give her a chance to look at the babe, and his heart grew cold as he looked at the small child.
She was small enough to fit in his hands, small and thin with raven black hair on her head.
"She has named the child Joanna, after her own mother. A beautiful name I would sa...." yet before the man could say anymore, the whole castle shook as screams filled the city.
BOOOM! BOOOM! BOOOM! BOOOM!
"What's happening!" "What is going on!" many screamed, and his eyes turned towards the windows as he saw a large cloud of smoke rising from one corner of the city.
"The Sept...."
0000
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