Kingslanding, Crownsland
Jon Arryn, Hand of the King, had called for an emergency meeting of the Small Council. Every member was present—even Robert, though judging by the scowl on his face, he was far from pleased about it.
"Why in the seven hells did you drag me here, Jon? What happened now?" Robert grumbled as he slumped into his chair, rubbing at his temples.
Jon Arryn said "I received a letter from Aryan Stark this morning, Robert. The matter concerns the North."
The mention of the North made the council members take notice.
"What happened now?" Renly Baratheon asked, as if expecting some petty grievance.
Jon exhaled slowly. "Aryan Stark has informed me that pirates from the Three Sisters launched an attack on Ramsgate. In response, the North may be retaliating. By now, their forces have likely descended upon the islands. If so, he is breaking the King's peace."
Robert scoffed. "I still remember it, Jon. Ned warned you. He told you they were sick of these raids. You asked for time, and they gave you time. When I suggested we deal with them together, you told me you would handle it yourself."
Jon's jaw tightened. "I tried, Robert. But there were more pressing matters in the realm."
"If you can't even deal with a few pirates, then let the North handle it," Robert snapped as he pushed himself up from his chair.
Jon's patience snapped. "Robert, this is serious! The Starks have invaded a territory under the dominion of the Vale. They are massacring my people. They have broken the King's peace!"
Robert waved him off. "I told you my decision. Let them deal with the pirates if you can't."
With that he walked out.
Jon Arryn inhaled sharply, controlling his frustration. He turned to Varys. "What do you know of this?"
Varys sighed "My little birds have brought me whispers, Lord Hand. I can confirm that Ramsgate was attacked by the Sistermen. But I have yet to receive full reports of the North's response."
_____________________________________________________________________
Varys had brought him the news earlier that day—the Northerners had wiped out every noble houses of the Three Sisters. And the Northern army is now stationed there.
Jon had spent the past hour rereading Aryan Stark's letter, as if expecting the words to change.
Finally, he set the parchment down.
"Grand Maester Pycelle," Jon said "send a raven to Winterfell. Aryan Stark is summoned to court to explain his actions against the Three Sisters. If he does not come within two months, then he will be branded as a traitor to the realm and an enemy of the crown, and the full weight of the Iron Throne will be brought down upon him."
Pycelle bowed "At once, Lord Hand."
Jon then turned to Baelish. "Lord Baelish, you are to travel to the Vale in my stead. Ensure that no rash action is taken on their part, but be prepared for anything."
Baelish smirk like always "Of course, Lord Hand. I shall do my utmost to keep the peace."
What has your nephew done, Ned?
This was a dangerous situation. If this escalated, it could plunge the entire realm into war again.
He knew he was going against Robert's words, but he will make him see sense. Otherwise this will set a very dangerous precedent.
_____________________________________________________________________
Winterfell, The North
It was night time, fire was burning and crackling in the brazier. The scent of burning oils had filled the room due to Kinvara's ritual. Aryan was standing at the edge of the room with his arms folded, watching the flames twist and coil.
It was time.
He had delayed this—not out of fear of Arianne's reaction, but because he had wanted her to settle into Winterfell first. More than that, his wife was not someone who would believe in the truth of the White Walkers without proof. Even his mother had needed to see before she could fully accept it. The northern lords had been the same. For them, he had taken them beyond the Wall and shown them visions through Bloodraven's help.
If Arianne still had doubts, then he would take her to Bloodraven too.
But for now, Kinvara had sworn to make the visions as clear as daylight, just as she had done for his mother.
The door opened and his mother entered first. She casted a glance at him and then at Kinvara, who stood motionless beside the fire, waiting. Then came Arianne.
She wore a skeptical expression, her eyes were flicking between Kinvara and Aryan.
"So," Arianne said. "What is it that you wanted to show me?"
"You asked me why I brought the Free Folk south of the Wall," Aryan said.
"Yes, but why is Kinvara here? And I had also asked you that why does she follow you?"
"You'll understand soon," Aryan said, gesturing toward the fire. "Kinvara, show her."
Kinvara stepped forward, lifting her hands toward the flames. The fire twisted unnaturally. Arianne's expression hardened, but she said nothing.
"Look into the flames, Lady Stark," Kinvara said "See what lies beyond your current understanding."
Arianne hesitated. She had heard stories of red priests and priestesses from her uncle, but she did not know what to make of them. Yet Aryan had never lied to her, and Ashara also stood calmly there. If this were some trick, her goodmother would have said something.
Slowly, she stepped closer to the brazier and looked into the flames.
At first, there was nothing but fire.
Then, shapes began to form.
The world within the flames turned white, gray, and blue, stretching into an endless expanse of ice. A mist curled through the vision, and from it, figures emerged—tall, inhuman, their flesh pale as milk, their eyes burning an eerie blue. They moved with unnatural grace, their weapons made of ice.
And behind them came the dead.
Corpses, their flesh blackened with rot, their eyes vacant, yet they moved as though life still clung to them.
Arianne's breath caught.
The vision shifted.
She saw an endless army of the dead, marching south, their numbers stretching across the frozen wastes. She saw a castle's walls—but ice crept over them. She saw men in black cloaks fighting.
Then the flames flickered.
And for a moment—a single terrible moment—she saw Aryan standing on a battlefield.
Then the vision stopped.
The fire returned to normal, crackling red and orange, as though nothing had ever happened.
Arianne staggered back, breathless. She turned to Aryan, her eyes wide, her skin paler than he had ever seen it.
"That was real," she whispered.
"Yes," Aryan said simply.
Arianne inhaled sharply, trying to steady herself, then turned to face him fully.
"Tell me everything."
And so, he did.
_____________________________________________________________________
(Next Day)
Aryan sat in his solar. His mind was already racing, anticipating what Jaqen would bring him.
A soft knock.
"Enter," Aryan said.
The door opened and Jaqen walked inside.
Aryan wasted no time. "What is this most important information you have uncovered?"
Jaqen's spoke emotionlessly "We have found out that your father was most likely at Riverrun when he first heard of your aunt's supposed kidnapping. Before that, he was acting normally. It was only in Riverrun that he started declaring that Rhaegar would pay for it."
Aryan became still "And how do you know this?"
"A servant from that time still works in Riverrun. It took some time and gold, but she told what she knew. She remembers it well. But as to who first whispered the rumor into your father's ear… that remains unknown."
Aryan clenched his jaw "Then keep looking."
Jaqen inclined his head slightly. "There is more. We have traced the origin of the rumor to a tavern. We have found the establishment itself. I have sent a miniature portrait of Petyr Baelish to all our people in the Riverlands, but the trail is very weak, so we will require more time to uncover if it was him, or someone else who spread it first."
Aryan's voice became deadly. "Jaqen, I don't care what it takes. If you have to burn the whole Riverlands to the ground, do it. Find out who started the rumor, and who carried it to my father. You know how important this is to me."
Jaqen bowed his head slightly. "A man lives to serve the master's command."
There was another knock on the door.
"Enter," Aryan said.
The door opened and Marwyn walked inside.
Aryan spoke to Jaqen "Anymore informations?"
"Jon Arryn has sent Petyr Baelish to the Vale," Jaqen informed him. "His orders are to ensure the Vale does not retaliate against the Northern army, but also to prepare them if necessary."
Aryan clenched his fist. "Fuck!!" He shot up from his seat and started pacing. "I was waiting to go to Kingslanding and tear his mind apart, to learn all his secrets. No matter. I'll get my hands on him one day." His eyes were cold.
Jaqen continued, "There is more information from Kingslanding. We have confirmed that Queen Cersei Lannister and her brother Ser Jaime are engaged in an incestuous relationship."
Aryan asked curiously "So the Queen has been fucking her own brother all this time. And no one ever found out?"
Jaqen inclined his head slightly. "A man suspects some have, but few dare voice such thoughts. The risk is great."
Aryan thought I can't let this informations go to waste. I have to think carefully when and where to use it.
Jaqen continued "There is information from Essos. Prince Aegon and Jon Connington had joined the Golden Company, and recently fought a battle, which they won. And the lessons of Prince Aegon and Princess Daenerys in politics are progressing well."
Aryan nodded in approval. "Good. If they want to sit on the Iron Throne, they'll need experience."
Jaqen continued "This information is from the North. Your cousin Robb interrogated Donnel Sunderland. And he found out that it was Petyr Baelish who had set up Donnel Sunderland to carry out piracy attacks."
Aryan's his fingers curling into the armrest of his chair.
"Where is Robb?" he asked coldly.
Jaqen answered without hesitation. "He is in the Barrowlands. He has not yet gone to Moat Cailin."
Aryan exhaled slowly "Immediately send him and Lord William Dustin a letter. Tell them not to speak of Petyr's involvement to anyone—not a single soul. If word leaks before I decide to act, I will not be pleased." His tone left no room for misinterpretation.
Jaqen said "It will be done."
"Kinvara and Melisandre are free nowadays," Aryan mused, his lips curling into that cold smirk. "I'll set them on Petyr until I get my hands on him." The thought of Baelish squirming under the weight of horrifying visions and whispers pleased him greatly.
Aryan asked, "Anything else?"
Jaqen shook his head
Marwyn gave him a parchment "A letter from Kingslanding has arrived."
Aryan exhaled sharply. "Let me guess—a summon?"
Marwyn nodded. "You are ordered to appear before the court to answer for your actions. If you do not comply, then you will be branded a traitor to the realm and an enemy of the crown."
Aryan scoffed. "We already knew this. Ros informed us before the raven even arrived. I will go to Kinslanding." He turned to Marwyn. "We know Jon Arryn is going against Robert's words. If I play it right, then I can use this to my advantage. If I remind Robert of his past, maybe, just maybe, I can get him to strip the Vale of 'The Three Sisters' and grant them to the North."
A smirk formed on his lips. "Of course, I'll need to make Jon look incompetent first. As Warden of the East, he failed to control his own lands. It'll be easy enough to at least plant the seeds of doubt in Robert's mind. And if I don't receive them now, then my deal with House Targaryen is still there."
Aryan turned to Marwyn. "Give orders to begin preparations. I will leave for Kingslanding tomorrow morning. Send for my mother and my wife."
Then he turned to Jaqen. "Alert all our people in Kingslanding. Robert himself will do nothing, but I cannot say the same for the others. Have them prepare for the worst."
Jaquen and Marwyn nodded, and went out to follow his orders, and then do their respective duties.
______________________________________________________________________
Across Aryan sat his mother and wife, they were reading the summon that came from Kingslanding.
Neither of them looked afraid.
That, at least, was a relief. They knew this wasn't like last time.
Unlike his grandfather, Aryan wasn't walking into a deathtrap.
He had more men in King's Landing than the City Watch itself. And his men were trained Northern soldiers, loyal only to him. Escape routes were already planned, caches of weapons were hidden, wildfire were stored in places no one would think to look. He had spare ships ready to take him out of the city should it come to that.
If they tried to capture him, he would burn the capital to the ground before he let them take him.
Ashara was the first to speak "As expected. Jon Arryn would not let this go unanswered."
Arianne asked curiously. "What are you thinking?"
Aryan leaned back "That I will go."
His mother did not look surprised. Arianne, however, arched a brow and said "Of course you will." Her lips curled. "Wouldn't be you otherwise."
Aryan smirked "Jon Arryn and Robert aren't aligned on this. Robert is on our side—he has been since the start. Jon Arryn is the one pushing for this, and the last I knew Robert didn't even knew that a summon was sent. That is a division I can perhaps use."
Arianne hummed "The Three Sisters?"
Aryan nodded. "Yes. The Vale has never truly controlled them, not in any real sense. If I make Robert see how much of a burden they are, and how Jon Arryn has consistently failed to manage them, I may be able to convince him to change the control from the Vale to the North."
Ashara said "Jon is Robert's foster father."
Aryan said "Robert is ruled by his emotions. He doesn't like being made to feel like a fool, and Jon Arryn sent this summons without even informing him. If I can remind Robert how the Vale has struggled to keep control, how it's been nothing but a headache, he may just hand the Sisters over out of spite. And even if I am unsuccessful, then we will get them when Aegon takes the throne."
Arianne almost pleaded "If you plan to do this, then please be careful."
"I know." Aryan said "This will be delicate."
For a moment, they sat in silence.
"There's something else."
Arianne arched a brow. "Good? Or bad?"
Aryan let out a chuckle. "Depends on how you look at it." He paused, then said, "My spies in King's Landing uncovered something… interesting."
Aryan said "Cersei and Jaime Lannister are lovers."
Arianne blinked. Then she let out a sharp, amused laugh. "The Kingslayer and the Queen? Together?"
Aryan nodded.
Ashara's expression did not change. "Robert is blind, but even he would not let this stand if he knew. If it became public, it would shake the realm." She paused. "Even the legitimacy of the royal children would come into question."
Aryan's smirk faded. His mind was already working, piecing things together. He turned to Arianne. "You told me once... what did you say about Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen?"
Arianne frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"
"You said they all look like Lannisters."
Arianne nodded. "Yes, I heard it from Lord Anders. All three of them—" She stopped. Her lips parted slightly.
Aryan realized "None of them are Robert's."
Ashara said "They're Jaime's."
The room fell silent.
Aryan's fingers curled into a fist. "If Robert finds out, he'll kill them all. But the Lannisters might still survive. He'll remarry. Have legitimate heirs. And then his brothers may not press their claims" He said. "But if this gets out after Robert's death… his brothers will definitely press their claims."
Ashara nodded "We cannot let this leak from our side."
Arianne muttered, "And hope no one else does."
Aryan shook his head. "We'll have to ensure it stays buried—for now. I will talk with Varys when I will be in Kingslanding."
Another silence settled over them.
"Mother. Arianne. I have a task for you two," Aryan said "I want matches for all of my cousins. I want them arranged quietly. Take help of Jaqen if you have to. But don't speak of it to anyone else, not yet. When I will return, I'll present the idea myself. I will make sure they'll accept them without any grumbling."
"Aunt Catelyn wants a southern match for Sansa. She dreams of her daughter draped in gold, married into some powerful house of the Reach or the Vale. And Robert…" He paused, lips tightening. "Robert may come one day to propose a match between one of his so-called children and someone from Uncle Ned's or Uncle Benjen's family. I won't allow it. That match would be like a noose around my neck."
Aryan continued "I'm also sending Sansa here, to Winterfell. She'll be your handmaiden, Mother. That blasted Septa is filling her head with songs of the seven and delusions about gallant knights. For the peace of Uncle Ned's marriage, I've tolerated it. But no more. Teach her how the real world works. Hammer that septa's teaching out of her if you must."
Aryan thought It's high time that septa met an unfortunate accident.
"Very well," Ashara sighed. "Send her to me. I will teach her."
Arianne smiled in amusement. "We'll make her more than a pretty little bride."
Aryan said "Arianne, please don't teach her anything. She'd have a stroke if she learned about Dornish customs. Let Mother deal with her."
Arianne pouted, her eyes wide with mock innocence. "As you say, husband. I'll be behave, and stay away from her."
Aryan just sighed, clearly not convinced.
_______________________________________________________________________
Kingslanding, Crownsland
Aryan and his retinue finally arrived at the capital. Robb had asked to accompany him, and Aryan, after a moment's thought, allowed it. Let his cousin see what the politics of the Seven Kingdoms looked like up close—the truth behind all the stories.
They were led through the Red Keep's winding corridors, until they stopped before the doors of the Throne Room.
The hall beyond was full—lords, knights, and courtiers lined the sides, and save for Petyr Baelish, the Small Council was already assembled at either side of the Iron Throne. As Aryan entered, flanked by his men, murmurs started.
At the end of the hall sat King Robert Baratheon, slouching on the Iron Throne like it personally offended him. His eyes looked tired—but they brightened slightly when he saw Aryan.
Aryan walked forward and knelt at the base of the steps, lowering his head."Your Grace."
Robert leaned forward slightly. "Rise, Lord Stark. You've got some explaining to do, about your action on 'The Three Sisters'." Then his tone turned sharper, eyes flicking toward Jon Arryn. "I've heard a lot of noise." If Jon thinks that he can go behind my back then he is greatly mistaken.
Aryan rose. "Of course, Your Grace." He inclined his head slightly to Queen Cersei, then turned back to face the King.
"The situation with the Sisters isn't new," he began. "Pirates from those isles began harassing our ships not long after the Greyjoy Rebellion. They struck trade routes along White Harbor and the Bite. When we first heard of it, many northern lords suggested for a swift retaliation. I understood their fury. But I refused."
He let the his words sink in.
"The Vale is our neighbor. The North had had no quarrel with them. Lord Jon Arryn is my Uncle Ned's foster father. I didn't want relations between us to deteriorate. I didn't want blood spilled between us. I didn't want to break the King's Peace. So instead, I ordered the Northern navy to patrol the coast and wrote to the Lord Hand, telling him everything, and urging him to take actions against those pirates."
Aryan continued "I wrote every time our ships were attacked. Every raid. Every northern hull burnt. I urged Lord Jon to act—to bring the Sisters under control, to punish those responsible. But not once did I receive even a reply. Not once. Years have passed, Your Grace. Letters have gone unanswered. Attacks have been unavenged."
Jon Arryn clenched his jaw but remained silent.
"When my uncle came to Kingslanding," Aryan continued, "he raised the matter again—in front of you. You even offered to deal with the problem together, but Lord Jon still refused. He said he would handle it himself."
Robert grunted. "Aye. I remember that."
"But the raids did not stop. Instead they grew worse. Bolder. And then—they struck Ramsgate. They didn't only attack ships this time. They tried to raid our coast, burn our land. And they would have succeeded if my army wasn't there. That was northern soil, Your Grace."
Some Vale lords began shifting uncomfortably.
Aryan's voice rose slightly. "What was I supposed to do next? Keep watching while my people bled and my letters went ignored? The King's Peace is sacred, yes. But so is a lord's duty to his people. I was put in a position not unlike your own, once."
Jon Arryn's eyes flicked up, sharply.
Robert leaned forward. "What do you mean by that?"
Aryan met his gaze. "You remember the year 277 AC. After the Mad King was rescued from Duskendale."
Robert's expression darkened.
Aryan spoke clearly. "Aerys changed after that. He started seeing traitors in every corner. He started executing people without trial. He started burning them alive. It didn't matter if they were lords, knights, or smallfolk. The realm tolerated it, until one day he killed my grandfather and father… and called for your head. And for Uncle Ned's."
Aryan continued after a break "That was the realm's breaking point. You, Uncle Ned, and Lord Jon raised up your banners, and tens of thousands followed you, Your Grace. Because it was right."
Aryan took a breath. "I tolerated the Sistermen's attacks for years. I asked Lord Jon to bring the situation under control for years. But he never did. And when they attacked Ramsgate, that was my breaking point."
Robert sat back in his throne, tired again. He didn't speak.
"There's more, Your Grace" Aryan said. "The Sisters themselves."
Robert raised a brow. "What of them?"
Aryan glanced across the hall. "It's not a secret and I won't speak in half-truths. The Vale has never truly controlled the Sisters. Not before the Conquest, not after. The Sistermen pay lip service to the Eyrie, and did as they please. But the North?" He paused. "Our bannermen follow the laws. They don't raid or pillage our neighbours. We keep them in line."
He looked Robert in the eye. "I propose that the Three Sisters come under Northern dominion. If we're responsible for defending those waters, we should have the authority to govern them. I give you my word that they'll be tamed. And they'll also prosper."
To be sure Aryan used a soft Confundus Charm on Robert. Just enough to be persuasive.
"You dare?" one of the Vale lords barked. "This is outrageous!"
Jon Arryn's spoke loudly "This is an affront to every law of the realm! You cannot strip lands from the Vale and hand them off to the North!"
Aryan didn't flinch. "Then let it be a trial. Give the Sisters to the North for like ten years. If we fail to bring peace and prosperity, then return them to the Vale. It's not without precedent—the New Gift was taken from us and given to the Night's Watch. When they failed to govern it properly, it was returned back to us."
More shouts rang out.
"You cannot do this!" shouted Ser Horton Redfort. "The Sisters are ours by right!"
"Madness!" Lord Belmore growled. "You can't hand off our lands!"
Another Vale lord snapped, "Is the Vale to be punished because the Small Council failed in its duties?!"
Aryan turned calmly toward them. "It was not the Small Council's failure. It was the Lord of the Eyrie and Warden of the East who is also the Hand of the King—who failed to bring the Sisters under control. With that much power, if he could not stop them, what more does the Vale need?"
The hall fell silent.
All eyes shifted to Jon Arryn.
He did not speak. He stood very still, hands clenched at his sides, jaw set like stone.
Robert broke the silence. "You have failed to bring those islands under control, Jon," he said flatly. "You ignored all the letters sent to you. You never took the raids seriously. You told me you'd deal with it. But you didn't. That's on you."
Jon opened his mouth, but Robert silenced him with a look.
The king turned to Aryan. "You'll have the Sisters for ten years. Make them safe, make them rich. But if you fail—then they will go back to the Vale. Just like I did with the Gift."
Aryan inclined his head. "As you command, Your Grace."
Robert stood up and gave his verdict. "The North will hold 'The Three Sisters' for the next ten years. And if they can't control 'The Three Sisters', then they will be returned back to the Vale. They are now your problem, Lord Stark"
He glanced at the Vale lords. "And if any of you want to fight over it, I'll bloody well let you take the matters with 'The Bloody Wolf'. Good luck with that."
He turned and stalked out, muttering, "Seven hells, I need a drink."
As the doors slammed shut behind him, Aryan let the faintest smile tug at the corner of his mouth. He turned and met Jon Arryn's eyes.
Jon stared at him, seething. He knew exactly what had just happened. And he knew he had been outplayed. Aryan Stark manipulated Robert.
Robb stepped up beside Aryan.
Aryan whispered quietly, "Let's go. I have some work to do. We'll will leave immediately after that. It's not safe to linger here."
_____________________________________________________________________
"You want to buy obsidian," Stannis said flatly. "Dragonglass. Most don't bother digging it up. Can't forge it. Can't sell it. Why?"
Aryan replied evenly, "I'll send my own men to dig. My ships will handle the transport. The work won't burden Dragonstone in the slightest. I'll pay well. All I ask is the right to mine it, and that no one interferes."
Stannis studied him with that hard, unblinking gaze of his. "You're too clever to throw coin at shiny stones. What's it for?"
Aryan met his eyes. "I give you my word that it will never be used against the Seven Kingdoms. It won't bring harm to its people."
Stannis didn't look satisfied. "Dragonstone's never been rich. If you're offering coin, I'll take it. But don't expect me to ignore strange behavior. If you're building something dangerous…"
Aryan said quietly, "I've already given you my word. I don't give many promises, Prince Stannis—but when I do, I keep them."
Stannis grunted. "Fine. Take your obsidian."
"Thank you, Prince Stannis," Aryan said, giving him a nod.
_______________________________________________________________________
Aryan waited until they were alone, well away from listening ears. Only then did he speak.
"Varys," he said quietly, "did you know about the golden twins and their cubs?"
The spymaster inclined his head. "Yes. My little birds whispered the truth to me quite some time ago."
Aryan's eyes narrowed slightly. "And do your birds also whisper who else knows?"
Varys folded his hands into his sleeves "Yes. The Falcon Lord knows, and of course Littlefinger also. Among the court and household, there are murmurs. Persistent, but vague. They whisper of the twins... but not the cubs."
Aryan looked out from the narrow slit. "Then make sure the Stag never hears of them."
Varys's expression didn't change "So you've come to the same conclusion. Good. Only the Falcon Lord might tell him... but after what you did today, their relationship has grown... strained."
"Still," Varys added, "I will do what I can. Distractions. Misdirection. Silence, where needed."
Aryan gave him a nod. "If you need anything in that endeavor... send word."
"Of course, my lord," Varys said, bowing slightly. "You have my discretion."
__________________________________________________________________
Winterfell, The North
Aryan sat in his chair with relaxed posture, but his eyes were sharp and calculating. Across from him sat Kinvara, Marwyn, and Jaqen—each of them were dangerous in their own right.
He didn't waste time.
"Jon Arryn and Robert's relationship has grown strained," Aryan said "Because Robert gave me the Three Sisters."
Marwyn raised a brow. "That would sour any Warden's stomach. The Sisters were part of the Vale. Giving them to the North… is an insult Jon can't ignore."
Aryan nodded. "It was unintentional. But Robert didn't think it through—he never does—but the damage is done."
He leaned back in his chair.
"No one knows when it will happen, but Jon may resign. And when he does…"
"The king will turn to your uncle," Marwyn finished for him. "Lord Eddard. Robert trusts no one else."
"And that is the problem," Aryan said flatly. "I cannot let Uncle Ned go to King's Landing. He acts with the tact of a raging bull. That city is a pit of vipers, and he walks into it like a man without a shield. Even with all my preparations… I don't fully trust that he'll survive."
Marwyn suggested "Then send him away. Invent a reason. A diplomatic trip. Something."
"I would if I could," Aryan said. "But I can't create a trade deal or a crisis in Essos on short notice without raising questions. And Robert—he won't be put off so easily. If he sets his mind to it, he'll ride north himself and drag my uncle to court."
"I need Uncle Ned to be… indisposed. Not hurt. Not in pain. Just… incapable of holding office. Then I'll have Qyburn diagnose him with something that requires rest for quite sometime. And Robert will have no choice but to look elsewhere."
Marwyn said "You want him bedridden, but unharmed."
Aryan gave a single nod. "Exactly."
"And how can this be done? I can't think of any way." Marwyn asked.
"With potions it can be done, but I don't have the ingredients," Aryan replied. "And it can't be with the spells. That's why I called you all here. Do any of you know a way."
There was a moment of silence before Kinvara finally spoke, with the trace of a smile at the corners of her lips.
"I can do it," she said.
Aryan turned toward her.
"I can perform a sacrificial ritual," Kinvara continued. "One that will inflicts no pain on your uncle. He will feel only weariness. Fatigue. The body will seem healthy to any healer, but he will need sleep, rest, and stillness."
"And the price?" Aryan asked quietly.
Kinvara didn't hesitate. "A vial of your uncle's blood. And another man—a proxy. He will suffer in your uncle's place. He will be in constant pain without any rest. And when you will ask me to release your uncle… the proxy's pain will deepen. He will die slowly."
Aryan's expression didn't change.
"Will Uncle Ned suffer anything? Will there be any risk? Will there be any side effects?"
"No," Kinvara said. "Only fatigue. He will recover completely once he is released."
Aryan was silent for a long moment. Then he nodded. "You'll have the blood. And the man."
Marwyn asked "You've already chosen someone for the sacrifice?"
Aryan spoke without any concern "I have many options in the dungeons. It doesn't matter who. I will pick one."
Kinvara gave a small nod. "Then I will be prepared to perform the ritual. Timing is key. I will act the moment the king begins his journey. Let me know the moment he departs, my Lord"
Aryan turned to Jaqen. "Send for my mother and wife. I want to speak with them about my cousins."
Jaqen inclined his head, rising from his chair and disappearing from the room. Kinvara and Marwyn stood as well, leaving the solar in silence.
Aryan remained seated, eyes fixed on the low burning fire.
It was done. His uncle would be safe.
Even if someone else had to suffer for it.