Chapter 36
CREGAN STARK
Leaving Kingslanding at this time was not ideal, but it was necessary in a way as well. Cregan now had a castle of his own, along with lands. Harrenhall may be a ruin at the time, but it was one of the largest castles in the realm, beholden to a massive land fertile land mass.
And with the Seven Kingdoms always entering a tumultuous era, it was best for him to progress these lands as quickly as he could. But developing such a piece of land would need some rather large sum of Gold, thankfully the King had been generous in his blessing and had given a part of the Gold the Crown had sized from Petyr Baelish.
That, along with the gold he had taken for himself, made him a very rich man. At least for some time, until he was forced to use it all to pay for the reconstruction of the massive castle.
But moving such a vast sum of gold was not simple and needed protection. Thankfully, they were not leaving the capital alone, but were leaving with all the prisoners that were leaving for the wall, which numbered into some hundreds.
His father had chosen to send fifty of his own guards with him, and Cregan had arranged some men of his own, men who were being led by a very familiar name.
"You are not coming with us?" he asked the Priest who had come to greet him at the door and replied with a shaking head, much to his surprise.
Carts, upon carts, were gathered at gates of the Red Keep, many of them filled with prisoners, all of whom wore chains around their necks and hands, while the guards inspected them all.
The drunken Red Priest was supposed to join him in this venture. He was a man whom, Cregan had begun to trust and rely on, and so he was much surprised when the man told him that he would not be joining them.
"I am afraid I won't be able to join you as I promised," he said, much to his dismay.
"Why?" Cregan, not missing how the older man seemed somewhat nervous and troubled for some reason.
"I cannot say," he replied with a fickle smile as he motioned for the man standing behind him to step forward.
"But I can assure you, all your belongings will be incapable hands," and the man was tall and thin, with black hair and a small stubble. He was a hard man, yet his eyes and smile spoke of a cunning not so unlike him.
"This is Bronn, he will be leading the men in my absence," and it was a loss to be without Thoros, for the priest was one of the best fighters in the realm, but Bronn was a name both familiar and alarming to him.
It was a name he had recommended himself to Thoros to recruit some time ago.
"So, you are the one who pays for us all," he asked, in his Essosi accent, as Cregan raised a brow.
"Is that a problem?" he asked, and the man looked into his eyes before shaking his head.
"Not at all," and the rest of the fifty men were mostly men to hire he was taking with him to maintain a semblance of order at Harrenhall.
"How many men do you have?" he asked Bronn.
"Fifty," and at the pointed stare from Thoros, he added slowly.
"My lord," as Cregan shook his head.
"How many of them can I trust?" The words seemed to still him for a second as Cregan saw him smirk.
"None," and he had known that.
"Not even you?" he asked again, and the man shrugged.
"Depends on how much you are paying?" and Cregan smirked.
"I think I am paying you plenty, but gold is not all I offer," and the man's eyes glinted at his words.
"You know I have been made a lord of a large castle and an even larger land. Serve me well, and you will be rewarded aptly," and the man shrugged.
"Well, then I will be happy to be of service, my lord," and he walked away, leaving him alone with Thoros once more.
"Well, I am afraid that thi..."
"Cregan!" but before he could finish, he heard his name being called out and looked behind and saw his own father walking towards him.
They had not in a day, as the hand of the King chose to spend the days resting in his room meeting, meeting no one ever since Cregan had told him his greatest secrets.
"Yes, father," he came upon him and glanced at Thoros, who gave him a small nod.
"I will take my leave now, my lord," and with that, he retreated as Cregan saw his father look into his gaze.
"Walk with me," he said, and Cregan followed after him as they slowly reached a corner of the yard, as Cregan's heart began to race with anxiety. It was not easy for him to reveal such a secret to the man infront of him. There was a reason that he had not spoken of it to anyone, for he knew the minute he did, either he would be called a madman or, worse, a heathen to be burnt at the stake.
And yet, it was too late. Things had begun to change, both because of him and even without his intervention. And he could not put his trust into the plan of the three-eyed-raven, not when he knew the sheer suffering waiting for his family.
And they were his family, distant, cold, and troubling, but family nonetheless.
Their feet stopped as Eddard Stark turned to face him once more, his lips shut as he looked down into his gaze with those cold, grey eyes of his as Cregan's heart hammered in his chest.
"I believe you," and the words stilled him, as his eyes widened in surprise, as he saw the man's own frustrations and trouble with the thought as he rubbed his stubble in near disbelief.
"The day I heard of your fall and how you refused to wake up from your slumber, I found myself in front of a Heart tree after a long time," the man began, as he chuckled.
"That day, I prayed to the Gods, I prayed to them for a miracle, to save my child, and after so many years of suffering and unanswered prayers, the Gods finally answered my prayers." His face softened as he put a hand on his shoulder, gripping it tightly as he continued slowly.
"When you woke up, I knew you were different. The Maesters said that the fall had taken some of your past from you, yet you were smarter, more quick-witted, and sharper than your siblings. I had thought it to be a blessing from the Gods to make up for what they had taken from you," he said, looking at his cane and crippled leg.
"I never thought about what they may have burdened you with," and with that, he reached into his pocket, took out a missive, and held it out for him.
He reached for it and slowly unfurled. He saw that it was a letter written by his hand addressed to Stannis Baratheon.
"I plan to send this letter to Lord Stannis today, but on two conditions," he said, and the letter carried a decree from him asking for the lord to grant the Crown rights to mine some Dragonglass from the caves of Dragon stone.
And they were once more looking at each other.
"Jon is to join you in this trip, but I want you to promise me that you will not reveal to him the secret you spoke of in my solar," and Cregan nodded as he retorted.
"But he deserves to know," and his father nodded as he turned to the side to look at their brother, who was preparing his and Cregan's horse for the ride, inspecting everything that he could.
"He does, but not yet. Not here," he added as he turned towards him and continued in a harsher tone.
"And it is not yours to tell. I promise that I will tell him about it but in my own time. You will not speak of it, promise me this Cregan. Promise me," and though he disagreed with him, he nodded nonetheless.
"I promise," he repeated, and the man nodded.
"And as for the second thing, once you are back from the Riverlands, you will tell me everything," and his eyes widened at that.
"I know that what you spoke of in my solar was not everything. I know you have more to tell, and if you are right and the dangers you speak of are as real and deadly as you make them out to be, then I must know of them and all that you know," and that was not something easy, to trust someone else with all his secrets.
It was not easy, not for someone like him who had always been forced to hide and act in the shadows and whispers.
But if there was anyone in this entire realm he could ever think of trusting with his secrets, then it was his father.
"You are my son," he added as Cregan lifted his head and saw that the man's expression had softened as he gave him a bitter smile.
"Whatever burdens that you have been laced with, do not change that. You are my son, and your burdens are not only yours to carry. I was blinded to them before today, but now that I know of them, I will not turn my eye away from them," his voice was soft, and perhaps for the first time in his life, Cregan felt the shroud of frustration and anger lift slightly, as he felt the burden on his shoulders lessen.
"Let me help you, but I refuse to be kept in the dark any longer," and there was a finality in his tone as his expression turned harsher.
"Once you return, you will tell me everything," and in the end, a part of Cregan had always known that such a day would come, and now it had.
"It will not be easy to hear it all," he warned his father, who nodded.
"I will be fine," and Cregan gave him a slow nod.
"Then you will hear it all when I return," and so the man nodded as he grabbed his shoulder tightly.
"Good," and then he turned to look at the wagons and the carriages.
"It will be good to have the family together once more," he said, and indeed, with the exception of Robb, the Starks were going to all gather in the capital.
"After all, when the winter comes, the lone wolf dies..."
"...but the pack survives." Cregan finished, hoping that this pack would be enough.
0000
JAMIE LANNISTER
It had been some time since he had stepped into this solar. Months now, ever since she had told him the truth about the babe in her belly, and who the real father was, and hearing Robert's name had filled him up with a sense of rage and jealousy that he had not felt in years.
In all his life, Jamie had only ever found the truth in one thing, and that was Cersei, her other half. He was no true knight, he was no protector of the weak. None of them were, for they had all stood in this very castle and watched the Mad King burn and kill thousands of innocents, and yet they had done nothing.
No, he had even gone so far as to betray the very King he had sworn his oath to. Kingslayer, they called him behind his back, calling him a disgrace, and yet he bore it all. All of the insults and the japes, and he did so for her.
Only she understood him, and yet such was her fear of the Starks that she had betrayed him, choosing to bear Robert, a son, and he was not proud of how he had reacted at that declaration.
But the months had allowed his rage to soothe as he understood her fears and trepidations and saw the reason behind her actions. Loathed as he was to admit it, she was right.
A blue-eyed babe, one born from her womb, would do much to bury all those rumors swirling in the air. And yet it irked him to see her bearing his blood, for she was the only thing he had claimed for himself in this entire world.
"You called for me," he asked slowly as he walked into the room, and there she sat on a sofa, with maids nervous and perspiring maids surrounding her on all sides.
"Leave us!" she thundered, and the servants all perked up, unmoving until she snapped once more as she looked at him.
"I said, leave us!" And that was enough, as the servants scattered out of the room, leaving him alone with her. He stood there, clad in full armor, ready to leave with the retinue gathered in the yard.
Her belly had swollen up, and her face was flushed as she beckoned him close, and he walked close to her and dropped down to his knee as he put his face in front of hers.
"I tried to make him change his mind," she raged in frustration, and it was obvious that she was speaking of Robert.
"But he is blinded to the ploys of the Starks," she raged, and that was true. Eddard Stark had been able to do what even Jon Arryn could not, as he reinvigorated Robert's interest in his realm. Though it remained minimal at best, the King had begun to involve himself in the ruling of the realm and upbringing of his heirs.
He would often join them in the yard to train with them and would even spend some time with Myrcella and Tommen, much to their delight.
Though they did not have his blood, they still called him father and laughed and smiled as they played in his arms.
"Promise me that you will protect her," she said as she looked into his eyes.
"Promise me," and she did not need to ask that of him, as he assured her.
"I will not let any harm come to her," he assured her.
"You will have two more Kingsguards with you, no matter what happens, do not let her out of your sight," and it was rare to see her so distressed, but a swollen womb was said to make women more prone to worry and crying.
"Is that wise?" he asked, and she nodded.
"I will be fine," she assured him, Stark will not dare act while his two sons are away from us. Tyrion is certain that the Starks will not act if I give them a reason not to," and the words took a second to register.
"And once I have given birth to this child, Stark will have that reason," and her own expression was seething as she caressed her belly.
"I see," and they looked into each other's gaze as Cersei's hand tightened over his.
"I had to do this, Jamie. There was no other way," and there was not.
"I know," and he felt her face soften at his words as she continued.
"I cannot lose her, Jamie. Not another child," she pleaded, and she did not need to ask this of him.
"I will protect her with my life," and he would. This was an oath he meant to keep.
"The Starks, they are planning something. I do not know what, but they are planning something. You must win us influence in the Vale. I have also written to Father to come and visit, but he refuses to answer any of my missives," and that was not much, unlike Tywin Lannister.
"I heard Robert mention that the Vale lords are rather angry with the Starks for some reason, that Lysa Arryn is seething at her sister and her family. Perhaps we can find some common ground with them," and that was a surprise to him, for he had not heard about such a thing.
"Why?" he asked.
"He did not say but called her a mad woman who had lost her senses after the death of her husband. The rest, you should find out on your own. You are the Warden, and the title comes with a lot of Power, and we need friends, we need them now," and he nodded.
"I will do what I can," and he would. The Starks were indeed becoming a problem, and they needed to be handled quickly.
Doing so in the capital was not easy, given that the man controlled the Gold Cloaks now, having rid them of Baelish's men but away from the capital.
"And..." Cersei hesitated as she continued, looking straight into his eyes.
"...if you see an opportunity, I want you to"
0000
Miles and miles away, across the Great Wall a massive encampment now covered the plains of the true North as the King Beyond the Wall led his men in this campaign, and yet as Mance Rayder, stood in his tent, looking down into the pyre thinking of all that he had heard and witnessed in the past years, a woman stepped into the tent, thin with hair red like fire.
"He is here," she spoke in a gruff tone as he answered without lifting his head.
"Bring him here," and her frustration and rage were obvious enough, yet she obeyed the order nonetheless as she walked out of the tent, before entering it again, yet this time with a man nearly twice her size, clad in the Black Woolen Cloak which he had once worn.
He looked up and found the face familiar, for this was one of the finest Rangers that the Crows had, one who was more than just a ranger, for the name he bore was Stark, and while that would have meant little to him before, it meant quite a lot now.
"Leave us," he said to the girl.
"Bu..." she tried to argue.
"He won't do anything, one can say many things about the Starks, but they are no oath breakers," and the man had already sworn in to Guest rights.
Ygritte, the girl, became quiet as she left the tent, leaving him alone with the Ranger, whose name was Stark.
"You must have some courage to walk into these lands by yourself," and Benjen Stark raised a brow.
"Not any more than what it took you to go all the way to Winterfell," and that was true, as the man plopped down on the wood opposite to him.
"Why are you here, Stark?" he asked as he stared into his eyes.
"It is no secret that the Crows bear us no love..." he quickly cut in.
"I could say the same for you lot. It is not as if our kind are much welcome here," and they were not.
"Still, I am here because of the very person who gave you that arrow," and he had expected as much.
"Because I was told that there was a chance that we may be able to make peace with one another, for we both know that the true enemy is not the living. The true enemy are the..."
"...Dead," he finished, and he had expected as much.
"It is a noble thought, but we do not kneel," he answered.
"Aye, but I am not here to speak of kneeling. I am here to speak of peace..."
0000
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