Chapter 35
CREGAN STARK
"You wish for me to go to Riverrun," he asked, trying to confirm what his father had just said to him.
"Yes," and he had not heard wrong. The capital had been rather tense for weeks now because of the rather untimely death of Petyr Baelish. And yet, even after a thorough investigation, no evidence of foul play had been found.
In the grand scheme of things, his death had not mattered much. However, he had not missed how a rather important member of the Council had been missing ever since that day. Though, it was not rare for the Master of Whisperers to vanish for months.
Yet Cregan felt something rather strange here.
He had tried to search for the man, yet his search had come up short, for as well as he knew the city and its secrets, the Spider knew more.
"I believe it is time for me to bring your mother and sisters to the capital," and that was a surprise as Cregan raised a brow.
"Are you sure of this?" he asked, and his father nodded as he rubbed his face.
"I cannot stand being here by myself anymore," Cregan said, understanding the hidden meaning. He did not push as his mind raced, for with Petyr Baelish gone, he had rid the realm of one of the greatest dangers to his family.
Now, his next target was the Lannisters, but in that case, his hands were tied, at least until the Queen had given birth.
"Sansa and Arya have been asking to come to the capital for many moons now, and I believe it is safe enough for them to come," and it was, in a way, for the Starks now controlled the Gold Cloaks and had consolidated much power here.
"Then why must I go to Riverrun?" he asked.
"Because of your grandfather," and that was a name he had not heard in some time, as he nodded in understanding.
"His health has deteriorated greatly, and the Maester at Riverrun thinks that he does not have many days to live. It is your mother's desire that you come and visit him," and he had met Lord Houster Tully a few times, and yet by then, he had begun to lose his mind.
From what his mother had told him of the man, he was a loving and doting father, even though he knew that he was not as noble or caring as she made him seem. The man was an astute politician who had secured much influence and glory for his House by making it the lynchpin of the Baratheon-Stark-Arryn alliance.
"It will also give you time to survey your castle and lands and make your vows to Lord Hoster," and though that was a formality, in his case, the idea of being able to visit his lands was tempting.
Harrenhall was a giant castle, and the lands associated with it were just as vast. Currently, both the castle and the lands lay in ruin, but he had plans for them, and he had already found a suitable Steward for them.
Given its condition, rebuilding the castle would take him years, and so it would not be a bad idea to get started as quickly as he could, especially given that much of his plans would require some initial oversight.
But leaving the capital was a matter in and of itself, and so he looked his father in the eye.
"I am not averse to the idea, but don't you have need of me here?" he asked candidly, as his father sighed and shook his head.
"As much as I value your insights, I believe I will be fine on my own for some time. And I doubt you could help me much in the organization of a tourney," and that was true, for as tense as the capital was, there was a sense of joy and hope lingering in the air as well, as the day of the birth of the new Prince of Princess grew closer and closer.
The King had ordered that a Grad Tourney be arranged in honor of the child, and the capital, which had not seen much joy ever since Prince Joffrey's death, was abuzz with excitement again.
"You should go and meet your grandfather. It would be prudent to do so before you appoint a steward and begin reconstruction at Harrenhall," Eddard Stark added again as Cregan nodded.
"As you say, Father," he said, agreeing to it, given that he would have to do so sooner or later, and the better it would be for him to have his own castle and lands developed.
"Then there is also the matter of the prisoners," his father began with a sigh, and the Black cells were full at the moment.
"A man from the Watch came yesterday. He will escort them all to the Wall," and that was good, for these men, while craven, were good enough to bolster the numbers at the wall.
"He also had a rather strange request from the Lord Commander," and at that, his father reached to the side of the table, and put forward a piece of cloth, motioning for him to to see what was inside.
And as he did, he found himself staring at a broken piece of Dragon glass arrowhead, and as he looked up, he found his father's pointed gaze focused on him.
"The Night's Watch has asked for more of this material. They call it Dragonglass, or obsidian," he began as his body stiffened.
"I did not recognize it initially, but I knew that I had heard of it before. It took me a while, but I remembered you mentioned it before. At Winterfell, as a gift for the man who rescued you," and one could say many things about Eddard Stark, but the man was sharp.
"What is it, Cregan?" he asked, but he did not speak at first because he knew he had to be careful about his words.
"There is another name for it," he began as his father frowned.
"It is called Frozen Fire, and the watch has need of it, not just the watch but the men that live beyond it as well," and a frown appeared on his face at his words.
"What is it, and why do they need this?" he asked, and Cregan hoped that his word would be enough.
"Because Winter is here," and his father frowned at his words.
"And the Dead are here with it," he finished as silence filled the room, and the words took a second to register, and then a rage-filled those grey eyes.
"Are you making fun of me, Cregan? What nonsense...."
"I am not lying," he cut in quickly.
"What reason would I have to lie to you?" he added.
"The dead? You want me to believe that such creatures are real?" he asked, with a hint of ridicule and disbelief lingering in his tone.
"They are just like giants, dragons, and skin changers. And I am not the only one who knows of them," and his father was shaking his head, not yet convinced.
"Before I came to Winterfell, you beheaded a man," and suddenly, his father perked up at his words.
"A young ranger who had run away. He told you about them as well, yet you did not believe his words just as you don't believe mine, but the dead are real," he tried to convince him, for he had no other choice now.
"I cann..."
"Uncle Benjen knows of them as well," and the mention of his brother made him turn his eye.
"So does the Lord Commander, yet they do not mention it for the same reason as I, for they know that none would believe us." Eddard Stark was quiet at this, and he could see his mind racing.
"How?" he questioned.
"I cannot..."
"How can you be so certain?" he asked, and Cregan knew that there was but one way to convince him.
"Have you ever wondered how I knew about Petyr Baelish's treachery? How do I know all that I know?" he began, sighing and leaning back into his chair.
"Have you ever wondered about that?" and his father nodded slowly as he looked into his eyes.
"I have," he answered truthfully.
"The truth is Baelish's treachery was but a fraction of all I know. I know much more. I always have," he answered tiredly because it was tiresome, and so he decided to let
"I know of the Dead and the King Beyond the Wall whose name you do not yet know. I know of the treachery of my own aunt, and I also know of your own treachery," he finished solemnly as he met his gaze as Eddard Stark stilled at his words.
"What..."
"The tow of Joy," he added, as his father paled, and the very air in the room stilled, and it was a minute later that he continued softly.
"She lay there on the bed bleeding, dying when she made you promise," he continued, hoping to convince him.
"She told you of his name and made you promise to protect him," and he did not say anything as he stared at him intensely until he finally spoke up.
"What are you?" he asked, with a hint of fear, rage and trepidation.
"You must have heard of it from Old Nan, in her stories, for all her tales are not just tales," and his eyes widened as he finally connected the dots.
"Some of them are real as well," he finished as he closed his eyes, and suddenly the view of the room shifted, as a crow flew into the room from one of the windows and landed on his shoulder, as his father's face stilled, as the words escaped his mouth in a gasp.
"...A Skinchanger." And Cregan felt himself return to his body as the crow sat on his shoulder.
"....and I am not the only one."
.
.
.
The announcement of his departure was made, and even in these tumultuous times, the King desired a feast, as he felt it necessary to celebrate the end of the whole ordeal with Pety Baelish.
His father remained absent from the feast, ignoring him as he had been for the past few days, since they had talked about one of his greatest secrets. And so, he found himself alone at the feast. Alone and troubled with the gazes of the entire royal Family focused onto him singularly.
"You are going away?" asked the Princess from the other side as Cregan nodded.
"I am, Princess. I must go to Riverrun to meet my grandfather and to see to my lands," he finished.
"The Trident, we did not visit it in our journey," Lord Tyrion added.
"It is said to be a beautiful castle. Will you also visit Harrenhall?" he asked, and Cregan nodded.
"I plan to. I must appoint a steward to see to the running and reconstruction of that castle," he added as the Princess suddenly cut in.
"Can I go, Mother?" she asked, having grown much bolder in the absence of her Joffrey.
"NO!" the Queen was quick to cut in as the table grew silent.
"But why, Sansa and Arya will be there as well. I want to go visit them," she argued, but the Queen put down her fork.
"You will not be going anywhere, especially not to that rot..."
"Let her go," and this time it was the King who cut in, and he had yet to drown himself in his cups as he looked towards his Queen.
"How could you say that!" the Queen was aghast as she snapped at the King.
"Have you forgotten what happened to Joffrey..." and her argument was sound, and the King seemed to be convinced otherwise, when Princess Myrcella cut in.
"I have nothing to do here," and her voice was thin and soft, and it was obvious to him that she was trying to play with the King who had always held a softer spot towards his youngest two children.
"And I promise that I will stay with the guards. I will stick with Ser Sandor..." she pleaded softly as his eyes met with Tyrion, who intervened.
"I will accompany her," he cut in before the Queen could rebuff the Princess again.
"I was robbed of my visit to the Wall. It would be good of me to visit Riverrun before I head back to Casterly Rock," and the man had been called back to the Lannister castle by the Lord Tywin and was to head back.
"And what good will you be?" the Queen's condescending voice cut in.
"I will not have my daughter's life..."
"ENOUGH!" and it was the King's voice which cut through the noise as his cup fell to the floor, and Robert Baratheon turned to face the person sitting beside the Queen.
"Kingslayer!" he called for the man clad in white armor, and the Queen's other brother immediately perked up at that.
"You will go with her and make sure that she comes back with not a single scratch on her body," he ordered, and the Queen was glaring daggers at her brother, who found himself stuck in this spat.
"Is it wise, your grace, should I not stay here to go...."
"You will go with her, and upon reaching Riverrun, you are to go to the Vale," and that seemed to stun the entire table.
"I made you the Warden of the East until Jon's son is of age. Lord Royce has written to me speaking about some troubles in that place. It is time for you to do your duty as the Warden and establish peace in those lands," and that seemed to stun him for a second.
"Thank you, Father," the Princess added as she saw her ploy fulfilled.
"And you better make sure that you return without any harm, girl, for otherwise even I won't be able to rescue you from your mother's wrath..." he laughed boisterously as he drowned his cups, as the Queen suddenly sprang to her feet.
"Take me away to my room," and the maids rushed to her side as the Queen left the chambers, as the King began to eat and drink.
"So, when do we leave?" he asked him from the side.
"We leave in a day...."
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And as the Redkeep prepared for the departure of its Princess, Stannis Baratheon made his own decision to leave the isle of Dragonstone.
"This is it. I must go to Kingslanding myself," he announced to the woman in red who had yet to lead him astray.
"You must not, my lord. The capital is filled with traitors and heathens," she argued against his decision, hoping to change his mind.
"The traitor is dead," he argued as he threw the latest missive from the capital onto the table.
"Killed in his cell by rats, and my brother now threatens to replace me from his Council unless I return to the capital within days," he argued as he turned to look into those fiery red irises.
"I have no choice. I must go," he declared.
"No, not yet, my lord," she said as she placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Let me go in your stead, my lord, so that I may cull the evil hidden in the capital, and once I am done, you shall be welcomed to those lands, as deserving of the chosen of the Red God...."
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