Blood and Shadows (Game of Thrones)

Varys

He had been in King's Landing for neigh on twenty years now. He had first come to King's Landing to serve King Aerys the second, after Duskendale Aerys had been convinced that his own shadow was out to get him, and so having heard of a man across the narrow sea with a penchant for gathering secrets and information had him sent for. And so Varys had arrived in King's Landing the capital city of Westeros all those years ago and had set to work. It had taken him some time to get into the King's good graces, but once he had Aerys listened to his whispers and council more frequently than he did his own hand, the mighty Tywin Lannister. It had been on Varys' suggestion that Aerys had married Prince Rhaegar to Elia Martell, the better to strengthen ties to a kingdom that had been part of the royal family before. Of course Varys could not have foreseen how frail and sickly Princess Elia truly was, she only managed to give Prince Rhaegar two children, and Prince Aegon was born during his father's absence from the capital, whilst he was away with the Stark Girl.

Rhaegar died on the Trident and Aerys panicked, he refused to send Princess Elia and her children to Dorne where they would be safe, instead he kept them close by as hostages, and when Tywin Lannister was knocking on the gates, for the first time since Varys had been in his service Aerys ignored his advice and followed the advice of that turncoat Pycelle and opened the gates, and of course the rest as they say is history. Tywin Lannister sacked the city, and had his men butcher Princess Elia and Princess Rhaenys. The man and the rest of Westeros believed that Prince Aegon had been killed by Gregor Clegane, but Varys knew that was a lie, for when news of the Trident had reached the city, Princess Elia had come and found him and begged him to protect her son, and so he had, he found a pisswater prince in the slums of Flea Bottom and bought him from his father for a jug of Arbor Gold, and then brought that pisswater prince into the Red Keep, and had Aegon smuggled across the narrow sea with Varys' own sister to Pentos and to a waiting Illyrio Mopatis.

He had of course been pardoned by King Robert when he ascended the throne, along with the Kingslayer and Ser Barristan Selmy and Pycelle, though if Varys had had his way Pycelle would be rotting on a spike on the walls of the Red Keep. With a new reign had come new players, Tywin Lannister happy now that his daughter was queen and that his grandson would be king returned to the Rock. Robert Baratheon made Jon Arryn his hand, and with Jon Arryn soon came Petyr Baelish. Now Jon Arryn epitomised his house words, he carried out his dealings honourably and without a hint of deceit, he skilfully managed to negotiate a peace with Dorne when they were calling for blood, but he lacked the skills to effectively play the game and for that he was paying the price. Baelish, the man was cunning by half and smart as well, he knew the game and how to play it, he was carrying out an illicit affair with the Hand's wife right under the man's nose, and kept Jon Arryn none the wiser. Cersei Baratheon, was more Lannister than ever, she played the game well but had little patience to truly nurture the seeds that she planted and for that she would be found out and dealt with in due time.

When word reached him through his little birds that Jon Arryn and Stannis Baratheon had been seen walking the streets of King's Landing together, he knew that they were discovering the truth of Cersei's children's heritage, that they were in fact the Kingslayer's and not Robert's. Varys had found out the truth long ago, when Princess Myrcella came out with the same golden locks as her mother, Pycelle knew of course, but the man was so deep in Tywin Lannister's pockets that he would never, ever say a word to Robert. Baelish found out later of course, but also said nothing to Robert or to Jon Arryn about it, to suit his own ends. And Varys, he did not tell Robert Baratheon the truth, for what good would the word of a former Targaryen loyalist do to prove anything against the Queen and the might of Casterly Rock. No he laid subtle hints along the way for Jon Arryn and Stannis Baratheon to follow and to find, it was he who suggested that he read a book by Maester Mullion about the lineages of the Great Houses knowing that he would find the confirmation that he was looking for. Then the man fell ill, and Varys suspected that perhaps Cersei Lannister had played her hand early, it made no matter he would adjust his plans, if war was to come he would be ready, he would make sure the rightful king was ready.

He kept an eye on Viserys and Danaerys, they may have wandered across the Free Cities no better than common beggars, but Varys always made sure that they had food and shelter, and that the hired assassins that Robert sent after them always entered the city after they had left. He knew it was too risky to have them meet with Aegon whilst Viserys was still alive, for the innocent boy whom Varys remembered from King's Landing had become mad, insanely mad during his time in exile and would more than likely kill his nephew, so Varys was determined that Viserys had to die before Aegon could meet the rest of his family.

He had also been keeping an eye on Dorne since the rebellion; he knew that that kingdom still seethed with the injustice. Prince Oberyn had tried to get Dorn to rise up in rebellion for Prince Viserys, but his older brother Prince Doran had a cooler head and had prevailed, it had been Prince Doran and not Prince Oberyn who had negotiated the peace with Jon Arryn. Though it had been Prince Oberyn who had gone to Bravos to negotiate a marriage pact between Viserys and Arianne Martell. Varys knew this and yet he kept it close to his chest, it would do no good for Robert to know, the man hungered for war, he had not fought a battle since the Greyjoy rebellion and yet still mourned his lady Lyanna, he had become a shadow of the man he had been during the rebellion, and yet Varys knew that the man had to die, but not too soon, if Aegon was to ever reclaim the throne for Robert had the undying loyalty of the north, and with it the Riverlands and the Vale. Joffrey however, did not.

Robb

The summer snows were falling in Winterfell, had been falling for some days now. Robb did not truly mind, after all it gave him something else to think about other than his upcoming nuptials. It was not that he did not like Alys Karstark, he liked her well enough, she was pretty and she was funny, it was just that he knew that this was sign that he was becoming a man, and he was not so sure he was ready to give up on his childhood just yet.

He heard a knock on the door, and said for whoever it was to come in. His cousin Jon entered the room. Robb smiled at him, since Jon had arrived with his sister Jeyne at the age of eight, the three of them had become quite close. Robb had enjoyed having a boy his own age to play with, had enjoyed trading japes and stories with Jon and Theon, and had been happy that Sansa had someone to play with and follow as well in Jeyne. Of course Sansa had turned into a right little lady since those days and now spent most of her time sewing and doing other ladylike pursuits with Septa Mordane, and so it had fallen to Arya to take to following he, Jon and Theon around. Jeyne because of her frail health spent most of the time with Sansa sewing, though Robb knew she hated it.

"You look grim Stark. Come on I'm sure Lady Alys isn't that bad." Jon said.

"Ah Sand, you don't know the half of it." Robb joked.

He saw Jon give one of his rare smiles, and heard him reply. "Are you nervous Robb?"

"Aye," Robb said, it was true he was very nervous.

Jon grinned at him then, and he knew some jape was about to come out of his cousin's mouth. "Well you shouldn't be. All that time you spent with her the last time she was here, I think you're both more than knowledgeable of what you'll have to do when the time comes." Robb blushed and cursed at his cousin, causing Jon to laugh uproariously.

Once Jon had finished laughing, he turned serious and asked. "But seriously how are you doing?"

Robb smiled, it was just like Jon to worry about others, putting everyone else's concerns before his own. "I'm good Jon, truly I am. How's Jeyne doing?" Jeyne had fallen ill a few days past and they were worried that she might not be able to attend the wedding, or worse she might not even be able to get out of bed in time for when her and Jon's mother came to visit.

Robb saw Jon's body tense, as it so often did when talk turned to Jeyne, his cousin was very, very protective of his sister. Robb remembered once when they had been no older than Arya was now, Jon had broken some stable boy's jaw, because the stable boy had made a joke about Jeyne's frail health. The boy had been dismissed from Winterfell, and Jon had been reprimanded by Robb's father and mother, though secretly Robb knew that they both approved of what Jon had done. Jon sighed. "She's getting better; this illness was harder on her than it should have been. Luwin says that she should be fine and should be up and about in time for the wedding though."

Robb smiled reassuringly at Jon, "That's good then isn't it?"

Jon merely grunted. "I hope so, or I may need to have words with Luwin."

They both shared a laugh at that, though they both knew that if something did happen to Jeyne, Jon would be distraught and would more than likely blame himself for it even though it wouldn't be his fault.

The day of the wedding dawned bright and early, the whole of the north had come to see the son of the Ned marry, and so Winterfell was filled to bursting. The Karstarks had been the first to arrive of course, Alys Robb's betrothed had simply glided into the great hall, and Robb had felt himself growing oddly flustered in her presence, something that had caused Jon and Theon to jape about constantly, since. Next had come the Umbers, the giants of Last Hearth, bellowing about this and that, then had come the Boltons, Roose and his household, his bastard was not welcome, then the Hornwoods, the Manderlys, the Cerwyns, and the mountain clans. The last to come from Dorne, Jon and Jeyne's mother Lady Ashara with their cousin Edric Dayne the new Lord of Starfall.

Robb was stood by the heart tree in the godswood dressed in his house colours of grey, when he saw Alys walking in on the arm of her father the gruff Rickard Karstark, she looked lovely, truly she did, and Robb felt the nerves begin to grow within him, soon he would be a married man. As her father led her up to the heart tree and left her to stand beside him, she flashed him a warm smile that Robb returned. Then they both turned to face the heart tree and Robb's father.

Lord Eddard was a solemn man by nature, though he loved his children and his niece and nephew dearly, and the pride in his voice could be heard as he began the wedding prayer. "We are gathered here today, to witness the uniting of two people, to see them bonded in the oldest and purest of traditions If there is any here who believe that this union should not happen, let them speak now, or forever hold their peace." A moment's silence, then Lord Eddard went on. "Who comes?"

Rickard Karstark stepped forward then and said "Alys of House Karstark. Who claims her?"

Robb stood forward and in as bold a voice as he could manage said. "Robb of House Stark comes to claim her."

Lord Eddard turned to them both then and said, "Marriage is a sacred bond between a man and his wife. Do you both swear to love and care for each other, to protect each other to the best of your abilities from this day, till the day you die?"

"I do," they said in unison.

"Do you swear it by Ice? Do you swear it by fire? Do you swear it by the old gods and the new?"

"I do." They replied.

"Then I pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss."

Robb leaned down and brought Alys' face closer to his, and then brought his lips to hers. It was not the first time they had kissed, but it was the first time that they could do so in the open, and so Robb couldn't help it if he held the kiss for longer than perhaps was strictly appropriate, drawing many cat calls and wolf whistles, from some of the young men in attendance. They broke apart after a space, and then led the party back into the hall for the wedding feast, and then the bedding to come.

Bran

The morning dawned clear and cold, with a crispness that hinted at the end of summer. They set forth at daybreak to see a man beheaded, twenty in all, and Bran rode among them, nervous with excitement. This was the first time he had been deemed old enough to go with his lord father and his brother and cousin to see the king's justice done. It was the ninth year of summer, and the seventh of Bran's life.

The man had been taken outside a small holdfast in the hills. Robb thought he was a wildling, his sword sworn to Mance Rayder, the King Beyond the Wall. It made Bran's skin prickle to think of it. He remembered the hearth tales Old Nan told them. The wildlings were cruel men, she said, slavers and slayers and thieves. They consorted with giants and ghouls, stole girl children in the dead of night, and drank blood from polished horns. And their women lay with the Others in the Long Night to sire terrible half human children.

But the man they found bound hand and foot to the holdfast wall awaiting the king's justice was old and scrawny, not much taller than Robb. He had lost both ears and a finger to frostbite, and he dressed all in black, the same as a brother of the Night's Watch, except that his furs were ragged and greasy.

The breath of man and horse mingled, steaming, in the cold morning air as his lord father had the man cut down from the wall and dragged before them. Robb and Jon sat tall and still on their horses, with Bran between them on his pony, trying to seem older than seven, trying to pretend he'd seen all this before. A faint wind blew through the holdfast gate. Over their heads flapped the banner of the Starks of Winterfell: a grey direwolf racing across an ice white field.

Bran's father sat solemnly on his horse, long brown hair stirring in the wind. His closely trimmed beard was shot with white, making him seem older than his thirty five years. He had a grim cast to his grey eyes this day, and he seemed not at all the man who would sit before the fire in the evening and talk softly of the age of heroes and the children of the forest. He had taken father's face off, Bran thought and donned the face of Lord Stark of Winterfell.

There were questions asked and answers given there in the chill of morning, but afterward Bran could not recall much of what had been said. Finally, his lord father gave a command and two of his guardsmen dragged the ragged man to the ironwood stump in the centre of the square. They forced his head down onto the hard black wood. Lord Eddard Stark dismounted and his ward Theon Greyjoy brought forth the sword. "Ice" that sword was called. It was as wide across as a man's hand and taller even than Robb. The blade was Valyrian Steel, spell forged and dark as smoke. Nothing held and edge like Valyrian Steel.

His father peeled off his gloves and handed them to Jory Cassel, the captain of his household guard. He took hold of Ice with both hands and said, "In the name of Robert of the House Baratheon, the First of his name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the realm, by the word of Eddard of the House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, I do sentence you to die." He lifted the greatsword high above his head.

Bran's cousin Jon Sand moved closer. "Keep the pony well in hand," he whispered. "And don't look away. Uncle Ned will know if you do."

Bran kept his pony well in hand and did not look away. His father took the man's head off with a single sure stroke. Blood sprayed out across the snow, as red as summerwine . One of the horses reared and had to be restrained to keep from bolting. Bran could not take his eyes off the blood. The snows around the stump drank it eagerly, reddening as he watched.

Later as they rode back to Winterfell through the woods, Bran found himself speaking with his cousin Jon. "Do you still wish to take the black Jon? Knowing that that man spoke of wights and others?" He shivered involuntarily.

His cousin chuckled and said. "Yes Bran, I still wish to take the black. There is honour in serving the Night's Watch and besides the man was a deserter and delusional, there are no wights and no white walkers." With that Bran watched as his cousin spurred his horse forward and raced after Robb and Theon Greyjoy.

He was so deep in thought that he did not hear the rest of the party ride up until his father moved up beside him. "Are you well Bran?" he asked, not unkindly.

"Yes, father," Bran told him. He looked up. Wrapped in his furs and leathers on his great warhorse, his lord father looked like a giant. "Robb says the man died bravely, but Jon says he was afraid."

"What do you think?" his father asked.

Bran thought about it for a moment then asked. "Can a man still be brave if he is afraid?"

"That is the only time a man can be brave." Was his father's solemn response.

They saw Jon riding up fast toward them, he stopped his horse just short of them and said "Bran, Uncle come quickly. You have to see what we've found."

And so they followed Jon, riding until they were deep into the forest, the rest of the party following them. And there deep in the forest, they found Robb and Theon standing over a creature, that looked like a wolf, but was bigger than any wolf Bran had ever seen before, and it had a stag's antler jutting through its chest. Bran tore his gaze away from the creature and gave a cry of delight when he saw the bundle in Robb's arms. "Go on," Robb told him. "You can touch him."

Arguments soon broke out when Bran's lord father came, mutterings of how strange it was to see a direwolf south of the wall, of how the bitch had whelped pups, but whether or not the pups would survive or not was never truly discussed, until Theon tried to yank the pup Bran had in his hand out of his hand. Jon spoke then, "Lord Stark," it was strange to hear call father that, so formal. "There are five pups," he told father. "Three male, two female."

"What of it Jon?"

"You have five children," Jon said. "Three sons, two daughters. The direwolf is the sigil of your house. Your children were meant to have these pups my lord."

Lord Eddard regarded Jon thoughtfully. Robb rushed into the silence he left. "I will nurse him myself father," he promised. "I will soak a towel with warm milk and give him suck from that."

"Me too!" echoed Bran.

The lord weighed his sons long and carefully with his eyes. "Easy to say and harder to do. I will not have you wasting the servants time with this. If you want these pups, you will feed them yourselves. Is that understood?"

Bran nodded eagerly. The pup squirmed in his grasp, licked at his face with a warm tongue.

"You must train them as well," their father said. "You must train them. The kennelmaster will have nothing to do with these monsters I promise you that. And the gods help you if you neglect them, or brutalise them, or train them badly. These are not dogs to beg for treats and slink off at a kick. A direwolf will rip a man's arm off his shoulders as easily as a dog will kill a rat. Are you sure you want this?"

"Yes father." Bran said.

"Yes," Robb agreed.

"The pups may die anyway, despite all you do."

"They won't die," Robb said. "We won't let them die."

"Keep them then. Jory, Desmond, gather up the other pups. It's time we were back to Winterfell."

It was not until they were mounted and on their way that Bran allowed himself to taste the sweet air of victory. By then, his pup was snuggled inside his leathers, warm against him, safe for the long ride home. Bran was wondering what to name him.

Halfway across the bridge, Jon pulled up suddenly.

"What is it Jon? Bran's lord father asked.

"Can't you hear it?"

Bran could hear the wind in the trees, the clatter of their hooves on the ironwood planks, the whimpering of his hungry pup, but Jon was listening to something else.

"There," Jon said. He swung his horse around and galloped back across the bridge. They watched him dismount where the direwolf lay dead in the snow, watched him kneel. A moment later he was riding back to them smiling.

"They must have crawled away from the others." Jon said.

"Or been driven away," Bran's father said, looking at the two direwolf pups, one's fur was white, his eyes were as red as the blood of the ragged man who had died that morning. The other was a sandy yellow colour , with eyes that were as black as midnight. Bran thought it curious that these pups alone would have opened their eyes while the others were still blind.

"An albino and a sickly pup," Theon said with wry amusement. "They'll die even faster than the others."

Jon gave the ward a long, chilling look. "I think not, Greyjoy." He said. "They belong to me and Jeyne."

Catelyn

Catelyn watched from the yard as her children and her niece and nephew played with their wolves. The boys had come back from the execution not as grim nor as quiet as she had come to expect, the reason for that she had soon found out. They had brought direwolf pups back with them, according to Maester Luwin these were the first Direwolves to be seen south of the wall in nigh on two hundred years.

The children's excitement had been a joy to behold, they had each quickly chosen a direwolf, Robb's Greywind was as grey as his name suggested, Sansa had called hers lady, Arya named hers Nymeria after the warrior queen earning a smile from Lady Ashara, Bran was still unsure what to name his and was going through various names and trying to find the right one, Rickon had named his Shaggydog, Jon had named his albino Direwolf Ghost and Jeyne had named her sandy coloured direwolf Sandy.

She watched her children play with their cousins, next to her Lady Ashara Jon and Jeyne's mother sat and watched them play as well. Ashara had come with her nephew for Robb's wedding to Alys Karstark a week past. She had only been to Winterfell once before, six years ago to leave Jon and Jeyne in Winterfell for fostering, though of course no date had been set for when the children would return to Starfall. Catelyn did not mind the children's presence in Winterfell, for one thing she thought that it was good that her own children knew their cousins, for another it was good that they had someone to play with other than each other, though she could not help but think of Jon and think of what she had heard of Ramsay Snow, Lord Bolton's Bastard who had it was rumoured killed his own true born brother Domeric a few years ago. She knew that perhaps she was being irrational and unfair to Jon, for he was a good lad, nice and kind, but she could not stop the fear that perhaps one day when he got older he would try and claim Winterfell from Robb, after all he was older than Robb, by a few months and Brandon had been the older sibling.

She was taken from her thoughts when one of the helpers gave her a letter, she noticed that it bore the royal sigil, curious as to what it could be she broke the letter open and read it quickly. She glanced at her children playing the courtyard and then excused herself from Lady Ashara's company, and made her way to the godswood, Ned would need to know of the news that had come.

She had never truly liked the godswood. She had been born a Tully, at Riverrun far to the south, on the Red Fork of the Trident. The godswood there was a garden, bright and airy, where tall redwoods spread dappled shadows across twinkling streams, birds sang from hidden nests and the air was spicy with the scent of flowers.

The gods of Winterfell kept a different sort of wood. It was a dark, primal place, three acres of old forest untouched for ten thousand years, as the gloomy castle rose around it. It smelled of moist earth and decay. No redwoods grew here. This was a wood of stubborn sentinel trees armoured in grey green needles of might oaks of ironwoods as old as the realm itself. Here thick black trunks crowded close together while twisted branches wove dense canopy overhead and misshapen roots wrestled beneath the soil. This was a place of deep silence and brooding shadows, and the gods who lived here had no names.

But she knew she would find her husband here tonight. Whenever he took a man's life he would seek the quiet of the godswood. Sure enough she found him sitting on a rock facing the heart tree, cleaning Ice with a wet cloth and brush. When he noticed her presence they talked for a while about other things, such as how well Bran had done during the execution, about the children and their direwolves, and how they would soon need begin preparing the harvest for winter was soon to come. They also spoke about Jon and Jeyne, and how Jon wished to take the black and how Ashara and Jeyne were trying to convince him otherwise, though little reward.

Once that was done, Catelyn breached the actual reason for her visit to a place she did not often care for. She took her husband's hand. "There was grievous news today, my lord. I did not wish to trouble you until you had cleansed yourself." There was no way to soften the blow so she told him straight. "I am so sorry my love. Jon Arryn is dead."

His eyes found hers and she could see how hard it took him, as she had known it would. In his youth Ned had fostered at the Eyrie, and the childless Lord Arryn had become a second father him and his fellow ward, Robert Baratheon. When the mad king Aerys II Targaryen had demanded their heads, the Lord of the Eyrie had raised his moon and falcon banners in revolt rather than give up those he had pledged to protect.

And one day fifteen years ago, this second father had become a brother as well, as he and Ned stood together in the sept at Riverrun to wed two sisters, the daughters of Lord Hoster Tully.

"Jon..." he said. "Is this news certain?"

"It was the king's own seal, and the letter is in Robert's own hand. I saved it for you. He said Lord Arryn was taken quickly. Even Maester Pycelle was helpless, but he brought the milk of the poppy, so Jon did not linger for long in pain."

"That is some small mercy I suppose." He said. She could see the grief on his face, but even the he thought of her first. "Your sister, and Jon's boy. What word of them?"

"The message said only that they were well and had returned to the Eyrie. I wish they had gone to Riverrun instead. The Eyrie is high and lonely, and it was ever her husband's place not hers. Lord Jon's memory will haunt each stone. I know my sister. She needs the comfort of family and friends around her."

"Your uncle waits in the Vale does he not? Jon named him knight of the gate. I'd heard."

Catelyn nodded. "Brynden will do what he can for her, and for the boy. That is some comfort, but still..."

"Go to her," Ned urged. "Take the children. Fill her halls with noise and shouts and laughter. That boy of hers needs other children about him, and Lysa should not be alone in her grief."

"Would that I could," she said. "The letter had other tidings. The king is riding to Winterfell to seek you out."

It took Ned a moment to comprehend her words but when the understanding came, the darkness left his eyes. "Robert is coming here?" When she nodded a smile broke across his face.

Catelyn wished she could share his joy. But she had heard the talk in the yards; a direwolf dead in the snow, a broken antler in its chest. Dread coiled in her like a snake, but she forced herself to smile, this man she loved put no faith in signs. "I knew that would please you." She said. "We should send word to your brother on the Wall, and ask Ashara to stay for a little while longer."

"Yes, of course." He agreed. "Ben will want to be here. I shall tell Maester Luwin to send his swiftest bird." Ned rose and pulled her to her feet. "Damnation, how many years has it been? And he gives us no more notice than this? How many in his party, did the message say?"

"I should think a hundred knights, at least with all their retainers, and half again as many freeriders. Cersei and the children travel with them."

"Robert will keep an easy pace for their sakes," he said. "It is just as well. That will give us more time to prepare."

"The queen's brothers are also in the party," she told him.

Ned grimaced at that. There was small love between him and the Lannisters, and of course with Ashara here there would be tension because of her connection with Princess Elia. "Well, if the price for Robert's company is an infestation of Lannisters so be it. It sounds as though Robert is bringing half his court."

"Where the king goes the realm follows." She said.

"I just hope he does nothing untoward to provoke Ashara, she does not like him nor does he like the Dornish." Ned said, worried for a moment.

"I will speak with her if you wish." Catelyn said knowing that he would agree, she got on well with Jon and Jeyne's mother.

"Very well then." Ned replied.