Chapter 27

  JON SNOW

  Jon had hought that he would get to leave Winterfell, a here he was thousands of miles away from his home as he rode towards the capital city of Kingsnding. The jouro the capital was much quieter and somber as the royal family still mourhe loss of the Prince.

  Despite his stant desire to leave Winterfell to make something of himself, Jon found himself missing his old home and the people i even as he rode. He missed Robb, and Arya and even Sansa with her sharp quips, all of whom were still at Winterfell, as their father had chosen to take only him, Cregan and his ward Theon to the capital with him.

  Sansa and Arya had cried much at that, yet the Lord of Winterfell had been persistent. Though he had promised to call them to the capital after sometime after he had settled into his new role as the King’s Hand.

  “When I learhat I would be riding with the King, I had thought that there would be feasts, and drinks and hunts,” came a familiar voice from the side as Jon sat around a fire as they made a final stop before entering into the nds, after which they would be a few day’s ride away from the capital city.

  “Not all this riding,” piheon as he kicked a piece of wood into the raging fire, and a part of him agreed with Theon.

  “I doubt that the Royal family is in any mood for festivities,” he answered, and Theon’s head sowards him as he scowled.

  “All because of that prick of a Prince?” he asked, and Jon looked around cautiously to see if any Lannister or Baratheon guard was hem to listen to this insolence.

  “It has been weeks since he died,” Theon pined, but he wondered if any sembnce of time was enough to get over the loss of someone of such importance.

  “Mind your tongue,” Jon warned quickly as Theon scoffed.

  “Or what? Will it offend that bitch queen,” Theon spoke curtly, gng towards the giant carriage that sat the Queen and the rest of the Royal children.

  “If it was not for that we would already be in the capital,” Theon pined.

  “And I would be enjoying the warmth of a whore, rather than cutting and gathering wood,” and the Carriage did indeed slow down their journey quite a lot, because it was the size of half a house and needed six horses just to draw it.

  Though he wondered what Theon was pining about. From what Jon knew, he had seen him vanishing into the woods with one of the castle maids several times, but the less he spoke of that, the better.

  “Still, Cregan is a lucky bastard,” Theon tinued as Jon raised a brow, his lips thinning at the mention of his half-brother.

  “He gets to ride with that bitch queen in that carriage while the rest of us have to slog away on our horses,” and there was envy in that toheon and Cregan had never seeo eye, and the retionship had worsened much after Cregan’s return as Robb’s attention was diverted towards his brother as he igheon.

  “I still ot believe why Lord Stark would bring you with us, bastard,” and Jon’s gaze narrowed at the taunt.

  “He left all of them bad yet brought you to the capital for some reason. I wonder why?” and Jon did not respond to his teasing, though he khe reason well enough.

  “Was it because the rest of your siblings could not stand...” but before Theon could say anymore, a guard walked up to them.

  “Snow, Greyjoy, Lord Stark wants to see you both,” and the both of them jumped to their feet as the man poiowards the tent.

  “Why?” Jon asked, as Desmond simply shrugged.

  “I do not know yet, but he has called for all of you,” and then the mahem to the King’s tent, and Jon’s eyes widened as he saw their father talking to a man White armor of the Kingsguard.

  He had not been part of the retihat had e to Winterfell, but despite that Jon was quickly able the man, for that was just how famous he was.

  “Is that...” he asked, nearly gasping as Desmond replied with a nod.

  “Ser Barristan the Bold.” Jon had grown up hearing tales about the man, ae his age, he could feel his prowess as he talked with their father.

  Barristan teh Bold was still one of the most skilled swordsman alive, a man who had si of the Bckfyres and had won many tournies.

  “Jon, Theon, you are here,” Lord Stark turo face them, and Jon was so lost in reverehat he missed Cregan standing there besides their father as he walked upto him.

  “You summoned us, Lord Stark,” he greeted, his eyes still focused on the older knight, who gave him a smile.

  “I did, I want you meet Ser Barristan of the Kingsgaurd, he rode with a message from teh capital a few ho,” their father introduced them to the man.

  “You must be Theon greyjoy, Lord Stark’s ward,” the man asked Theon who perked up at that.

  “Aye,” and the man gave the Greyjoy heir a small nod before he turowards him, as his smile dulled.

  “And you are,” he asked with a narrowed gaze.

  “Jon, my lord. Jon Snow,” and the man that.

  “You must be Lord Stark’s bastard,” and Jon did not like that hough there was no lie in them.

  “He says you are rather good with the sword,” and Jon saw their lord father smile as he nodded.

  “Not as good as you, my lord,” he added as the older man smiled.

  “Not yet, but one you just might be. You have steel in your eyes,” and at that, he turowards their father.

  “That one does,” and their father nodded as the man walked away, as Lord Stark turo face them.

  “I wao tell you all that I will be riding ahead to the capital,” he said, seeing Cregan’s eyes widen as his brother quickly intervened.

  “Take me with you fath...”

  “I ot,” the man cut in before Cregan could finish.

  “I will be riding fast and without a. You are still rec from your injuries. You will ride with the Queen,” he ordered before turning towards him and Theon.

  “And you two will keep riding with the retinue. Do not make trouble for the men,” he ordered as Jon nodded.

  “But father, I have told you about the capi...” Cregan was not yet done.

  “Cregan,” the man turowards the brown-haired boy and pced his hand on his shoulder.

  “I will be fi is just a few days, I o make preparations for the Prince’s funeral....”

  0000

  VARYS

  The mood in the castle was somber as preparations were being made for the st rights of the young Prince Joffrey. Many mourned for the loss of the Prihough to his own mind, they should be celebrating rather than m—for they had been saved from the boy who erhaps the sed ing of Aerys, the Mad himself.

  Many still whispered about the Targaryen plot, and how the it was the disgruntled family, and their loyalists behind this attack, others whispered of Dorne and their treachery, yet few realised that the culprit of this death was far han they realised.

  The Mogbird, and it was such a fitting animal for the man, given his precarious situation. And while Varys could not be sure, it seemed as if it had been him who had hired the bandits who had saved the realm from the cruelty of Prince Joffrey Baratheon.

  Though he doubted that the Prince had been his intearget, however the fates had somehow intervened and the young Stark boy had mao emerge from the flict alive.

  The Master of had been rather nervous for a few days until word of the Royal Family’s eventual departure had e, and Varys wondered what games the man ying now, though he was not the only one pying games, was he?

  Varys walked out of the castle and towards the just-opened gates and watched as a dozen men rode through the gates, holding banners of the Royal family, and one more—a grey direwolf on a blue field, the banner of House Stark.

  And the men rode to the gates, as Varys stood there waiting until they all came to a halt, and one man jumped off of the horse. The years had ged the young man who had ridden into these very Halls for reveer the Mad King had burnt his kin alive.

  He wondered in that moment as he gave the man a bow.

  “Wele back to the capital, Lord Stark,” he began, as the man’s lips thinned, his face as emotionless and stoic as his own son, as he looked around the castle.

  “Aye, it is good to see you, Lord Varys,” the man said as he put forward his hand, as Varys straightened his back.

  “We are all much saddened about the loss of Prince Joffrey,” he tinued softly as he saw those grey eyes gng at him rather intensely.

  “The whole castle mourns his loss,” and the Warden of the North nodded as Varys led him into the castle.

  “I believe the King would appreciate it more if you could point him towards the man responsible for this,” and Varys’s lips thinned.

  “I am searg far and wide for the culprit as we speak and have kept yrace abreast about all my findings,” he replied as he led the man into the Red Keep.

  “The Targaryens,” the maioned sharply as Varys nodded.

  “I highly doubt a boy and a girl would have been capable of this,” and that was astute of the man.

  “Well, there are many who would a their behalf. The Targaryens ruled these nds for three hundred years. There must be many who yearn to see them return to these nds.” The Warden of the North did not reply as they walked to the main yard.

  “Should I lead you to your chambers, my lord?” he asked, and the new Hand of the King shook his head.

  “No,” he said as he slowed down.

  “Take me to the cil Chambers. I wish to ihe preparations for the funeral,” he said, nodding.

  “The cil has gathered in the chambers,” and the man nodded as Varys led him to the cil Room, and the rest of the journey was quiet until they came upon the cil Room and the doors opened as Eddard Stark walked in, as everyone in the room rose to wele him.

  “Lord Stark,” he was greeted by the young Master of Laws, who gave the man a firm nod as the Grand Maester added on in his feeble voice.

  “Lord Stark, it has been quite some time. Quite some time indeed,” and the Warden of the North returhe greetings, some with smiles, some with simple nods, until he came upon the man who may have just tried to kill his son.

  “Lord Stark, it is good to have you with us in the capital,” spoke the Master of as he put forward his hand.

  “We are much saddened by the loss of Prince Joffrey’s life,” he added, and Varys watched as the Northerared down at the Master of as silence desded in the room.

  “We all are saddened, but you need not worry. The young Prince will be given justice, and we will do everything we to find the one’s responsible for his death,” the Warden of the North added, as his lips thinned, and he ighe hand put forward by the Master of as he walked towards his seat.

  “I am rather tired from my journey, so let us get this underway at once,” and Varys smiled as he saw the face of the Master of flush with rage and humiliation as he took the seat besides him, as the cil Meeting began.

  “Tell me of the preparations for the funeral?” and so the meeting began, and the Seven Kingdoms entered a new era.

  0000

  And a young Jojeood in a forest as a raven tio circle him, a was no ordinary raven.

  “You uimated him, and now he is out of your reach,” the young boy added as the raven cawed loudly, as if in rage and frustration.

  “You keep trying to remove him aore the song, but do know this that there are other powers at py here, powers that are no less dangerous than the ohat rule these nds,” and it was as if he could talk with the raven.

  “He knows the risks. He knows the responsibility and the dahat e for us,” the boy tinued as the raven slowed down, desded, and sat down on the young boy’s shoulder.

  “Aegon’s song is old and fottehe boy remembers it. He knows of the Song as well. He could be the one. He is the better choice,” and the raven disapproved of those words as it pecked at the boy’s cheek.

  “He could tame it. Tame the hidden dragon ae the song,” the boy offered as he began to pet the raven.

  “But for that, he must show that he is ready,” and with that, the raven flew away.

  “I wonder, wheime es, what choice will you make, Cregan Stark....”

  0000

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