Chapter 22

  CREGAN STARK

  It took much time to vince her mother and sister to leave his side. Both Sansa and his mother were insistent on staying by his side, as Maester Luwio treat the Princess at the King’s behest.

  Only when the old maurned and assured them of his recovery did they finally leave leaving him alone in his room to ponder and see.

  Joffrey’s death ged much, aher was it all for worse nor was it all for the better. He had always known that Joffrey did not like him, though he had never really thought that the animosity between them had been aggravated to su extent that he would try to kill him.

  And had he really dohis by himself or at someone else’s behest? And if so, who? And Why?

  There were a thousand questions in his mind, and he did not have answers. And now, with Joffrey’s death, it had bee neigh impossible to prove the Queen’s iy because, from what he had mao find out, she had much of the sympathy of the realm and the King.

  To denounce her for iy at such a time would not wiven that the King would be far less ined to believe their words because of his grief.

  And there were the bandits? Their words, he still remembered them.

  ‘Gold’ they had e after him, fold. There was only one person capable of this, and though he doubted their interrogations would lead them toward him, he had an inkling about just who was behind the attack.

  Baelish.

  This was his doing. Or was it?

  And then there was Blood-raven, which part of all this was his doing. And why were his powers so much more potent here in the North? Why had he not been affected while he was in the South? What were his iions?

  Was it a war he sought? Or was it his death?

  Still, he spent all night twisting and turning as all these thoughts ran around in his mind. His initial pn had all been wasted by this oack, for with Joffrey's death, the Lannisters had both been strengthened and weake the same time. Because now Tommen was heir. Sweet and young Tommen, who was not proo the idiocies of his elder brother.

  Tommen was also much closer to him and Myrcel, unlike Joffrey, who was his mother’s pet.

  Now, the board had all bee away, his advantage dimio quite aent, and Cregan wondered what he was to do now with it all ging.

  The night passed slowly as he barely got much sleep. He tio twist and turn in his bed until it was finally m, and he heard the door to his room open once more.

  He was alert in an instant until his eyes nded on the bck furs around the man, and he reized them instantly.

  “Uncle Benjen,” he greeted as the man walked into the room with a smile.

  “Cregan, I thought you would be awake,” he said as he walked in closed the door behind him, and sat down on the side of the bed.

  “Yes, I couldn’t sleep at all,” Cregan replied as the man nodded.

  “I wao see you before I left,” and that surprised him.

  “You are leaving,” and the man nodded.

  “Aye. I just came to meet the King to tell him of the Night’s Watch’s plights, and now with my mission plete, it is time for me to return,” Cregan stilled as he remembered the fate that awaited him at the Wall.

  “Will Jon be going with you?” he asked, and thankfully, the man shook his head.

  “No,” he answered as Cregan realized that things were ging, and they were ging rapidly. And if he were to save them all, then he must adapt as well.

  “He is too young to take the vows of the Night’s watch yet,” Benjen added, and it was true.

  “You are First Ranger aren’t you?” Cregaioned, and his uncle seemed to perk up at that. He nodded.

  “Yes, I am. I venture beyond the Wall to fight and track the wildlings,” he answered, though Cregan wondered if they were all he fought and found beyond the Wall. Did he know of the dahat lihere? And if not, then should he tell him?

  “Is that all you find there?” he asked, and he did not miss how his uilled as he looked straight into his eyes. There was silence for some time before he broke it as he asked in barely a whisper.

  “Why do you ask me that?” Cregaated, his mind rag on what to say before he finally opened his mouth.

  “Before I came here, Father executed a deserter from the Watch. Will, a ranger much like you,” and he chose his words cautiously.

  “Yes, he was a brave boy. Braver than most,” Benjen added as Cregan nodded.

  “Yet before he died, he spun a rather iing tale about his st ranging, about his desertion...” and there it was, those grey eyes narrowed as Cregan tinued.

  “...about what he saw?” Cregan asked, and Benjen did not answer him before Cregan finally took a gamble.

  “Father did not believe his words. He thought it to be a tale spun in desperation. But...”

  “But?” Benjen asked as Cregan swallowed his own saliva to wet his mouth as he answered.

  “I do,” his eyes wide his words, and the man did not say anything for a few seds.

  “I do not think he was lying, and I do not think that the Wall was made to keep out wildlings. No, it was created for a much greater purpose, a much graver purpose,” Cregan finished, hoping that he had not just doomed himself.

  But Beark was his family. His kin and he did not wish to see him die, not when there was an army of the dead marg towards them.

  “Have you spoken of this to anyone else?” Benjen asked, and Cregan shook his head.

  “Good. Do not,” he said emphatically, making him frown.

  “But...”

  “Listen to me, Cregan,” he said as he grabbed his shoulder tightly.

  “The words you speak, I do not know how you learned about it all. But none will believe you, and if they hear them out of your mouth, they will call you mad and senseless. They would be wrong, but it would not matter,” and he frowned.

  “So, promise me. Promise that you will keep it all to yourself until the time is right. Promise me,” he asked, and Cregan nodded.

  “I promise,” he replied as his unodded.

  “But I am right, aren’t I?” he asked as the man rose up, and he gave him a subtle nod, firming his suspi that Benjen did indeed know of the white walkers.

  “You are...”

  “Then go into my room and operunk under my bed,” he said, making the man frown.

  “Is this about the gift yht for me?” Cregan nodded.

  “Yes, bring it here,” the man nodded and walked out of his room, leaving him all aloil he walked back while holding a small sack.

  “What is this?” he asked and Cregan pushed himself up to sit as he had him empty the sa the table.

  “A on to bat the white walkers,” Cregan added, making the man’s eyes widen before he reached inside and took out a dragon gss dagger.

  “Dragongss,” he gasped as Cregan nodded.

  “This was all I could obtain without raising much suspis, but I know for a fact that this is amongst the only three ons that are effective against the dead,” he answered and Benjen nodded as he looked ihe sad saw the rest of the ons.

  “Use them. ime you go North of the wall, take them with you,” Cregan asked, and the man nodded.

  “I will, but the sack is only half full. Where are the rest of them?” he asked as he looked into his eyes and it was sharp of him to pi that.

  “I gave them away,” he did not lie.

  “To another man, one who had just as mueed of them as you,” and Benjen did not uand that.

  “Who?” he asked, and Cregaated, yet he answered heless.

  “The King Beyond the Wall....” at his words, Benjen’s eyes widened as he sat down on the chair.

  “How?” he gasped after minutes of silence.

  “It does not matter how. But I believe that if we are to face this army of the dead, then we must make peace with the Wildlings,” and Benjen shook his head.

  “You have no idea what you are talking abo...”

  “I do!” Cregan cut in emphatically as his uncle’s head sowards him.

  “It is the only way, uncle, for when it is time for the final battles, either the wildings will fight with us ainst us,” he tried to add.

  “There are no sides to this war. here are only the living and the dead, and I would much rather make peace with the living than join the dead,” he hoped the man would see reason.

  “You are a Stark. The name carries weight. I know it is nearly impossible, but there has to be a way, and you must find it,” and the man bit into his lip before he nodded.

  “This has been quite illuminating,” his uncle chuckled as he looked at his face.

  “I will try,” he said, and Crega a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders.

  “That is all I ask,” the man said, standing up and about to walk out when he spoke up once more.

  “Won’t you ask me how I know all this?” Cregan asked, and the man turo look at him, his face grim and filled with pity.

  “I saw many wonders when I ventured beyond the Wall and heard many a tales. Tales of skin gers, wargs and Greenseers— men and women who saw too much,” he whispered as Cregan gulped nervously.

  “I did not believe them at first, but now I do. And I pity you, Cregan, to be born with such a burden,” he said, and Cregan nodded.

  “I will keep your secret, just as I hope you would mine,” and with that, he walked out of the room, leaving a much-tired Cregan in his wake as he y there looking at the ceiling, thinking whether this entire gamble was a mistake or not.

  0000

  TYRION LANNISTER

  The entire castle mourhe death of Prince Joffrey. Tyrion mourned as well, for as vile as the boy may have been, he was still a boy and his nephew. He was family.

  The tensioween the Lannisters and the Starks that had gripped the castle sihat damnable day had lessened a bit, but only by a bit. And it still lingered as the men of the two families eyed each other with distrust.

  And food reason.

  None were oblivious to the Queen’s wild accusations against the sed son of the Starks, and though few dismissed those words as the folley of a mother in m, they were not the words of a on woman.

  No, those words had e out of the Queen’s mouth, and though the King had ighem as he did for most of his sister’s words, a divide betweearks and the Lannisters had been made, one he feared the marriage between Myrcel and Cregan would not heal.

  The annou for the match was made yesterday after the Maester firmed that the young Stark boy’s life was out of danger. It was a good matot the best for a Princess, given that the boy was but a sed son.

  But it was good for Myrcel. The girl was rather fond of the boy and had been ever since he had arrived in the capital. And now, the boy had just saved her life—more accurately, the direwolf had, but it was the boy’s direwolf and his quick thinking that had saved the Poor Myrcel from the clutches of the bandits that had taken Joffrey’s life.

  He was a good boy, honorable, and with a good head on his shoulder.

  That is why he wondered why his siblings were so against the idea.

  “I have heard that the King annouhe match between Myrcel and the Stark boy yesterday?” he asked as he joined his brother for breakfast.

  The Queen awo children were still absent. They were all still m the loss of Prince Joffrey, and rightly so, for he was her son.

  Cersei was rather relut to let either Tommen or Myrcel out of her sight ever sihat day, with Jamie guarding them himself all the time.

  Jamie’s grimad pause told him what he thought of the match.

  “A useless match, to marry the realm’s only Prio a crippled sed son,” Jamie scoffed as he ate the pe while Tyriohe burnt ba. His own brother had been much saddened by the death of Joffrey, for the boy was not just a Prince.

  He was his nephew as well.

  “I wouldn’t quite agree,” he answered, and Jamie finally looked up with a raised brow.

  “The boy saved her life and is the son of the Hand of the King. It is not as bad a match as you make it sound,” and Jamie’s eyes narrowed.

  “He is a cripple. He will have never be a knight or a lord,” and Tyrion drank a sip of the Northern ale.

  “Ahh, there are many castles that are in need of a lord. Robert could make him oh the stroke of a pen; as for being a knight, I doubt a Southern knight would have done what he has, saving the Princess’s life while risking your own. That is the kind of thing bards love to sing about, and the pywrights make little pys of,” yet her Cersei nor Jamie liked the boy.

  Why?

  From what he had learned of it, even Joffrey's death seemed too mysterious—the misfire, the bandits, and then the bme afterward.

  It all seemed rather strao him.

  “Do you really think the Stark boy killed Joffrey?” he asked and Jamie stilled at his question before he looked up.

  “Despite it not being announced, I doubt that the boy khe King’s iions for him to marry Myrcel,” Tyrion began as he spooned out some pe and ed aied it into his mouth.

  “He was to be Joffrey’s kin soon? Why would he ever want to kill Joffrey?” he asked, and this was why he did not believe his sister’s and Jamie’s accusations.

  “Jealousy,” Jamie added, and Tyrion scoffed.

  “Anyone who knows the boy would tell you that he cared little for Joffrey,” and that was the truth.

  “You are defending the boy,” Jamie asked, his displeasure obvious in his tone.

  “I am poking holes in your accusation, and I defend him only because I see what you and Cersei refuse to,” and this time, his tone was far more serious, for in their misguided anger and frustration, both of his siblings were making a mistake, ohat could one day e to haunt them.

  “And what is that?” Jamie asked as he pushed away the bowl and leaned forward oable.

  “That someone has just tried to incite a war in this kingdom, has tried to pit House Lannister against House Stark,” Tyrion added, and he doubted that Jamie was naive enough not to uand it with the truth fag him.

  “I have heard that Robert interrogated one of the bandits himself and found that Joffrey was not evearget of the bandits,” it had not surprised him at all.

  Joffrey’s death had always seemed a bit too ial to him, and now it was being clearer and clearer exactly what had transpired in that forest.

  “Then who was their target?” Jamie asked.

  “Cregan was,” he answered, and Jamie’s eyes widened, and the surprise was real. And he was relieved internally, for he did know of Cersei’s disapproval of the boy and had hoped that she was not naive enough to do such a thing.

  And he also khat Cersei would hardly do anything without speaking of it to Jamie, and if Jamie’s surprise was genuine enough.

  “And you know of this how?” Jamie asked, and he nodded.

  “I am, I heard the eale from the gaoler’s mouth itself. Someone had paid them gold to kill Cregan Stark, and if the Stark boy was to be killed, who would the Starks suspect first?” Tyrion asked, specifically about how Cersei was behaving.

  “Who?” Jamie asked, and Tyrion rolled us.

  “Us, brother. Us, the Lannisters,” Tyrion added and saw Jamie’s eyes widened.

  “I see,” and he finally uood the point.

  “Joffrey’s death was simple a mistake. A tragic ce,” Tyrion added, he had not been much fond of his nephew, but still no mother should ever have to bury her young son like that. Let alone his own sister.

  “I know that Cersei is suffering, and so are you. I am too. Joffrey was my nephew as much as he was yours,” Tyrion added as Jamie’s lips thinned as he nodded.

  “But this was not the Stark’s doing. No. This was someone else, someone who wishes to pit our two families against one another,” Tyrion added, as Jamie raised a brow.

  “What would you have her do?” he asked, as Tyrion smiled.

  “Make peace with the Starks for some time and start being so obtuse to how your as and words are perceived. Eddard Stark is a soldier. He will be bored with the politid duties of being the Hand in a year or two at most and after than she have Robert name someone else Hand,” Tyrion added, for he did not know why his siblings tio plot and rave against Cregan and the Starks, but knew well enough that their excuse of distraught at the demise of a nephew and son was running out.

  The Starks may be fiving and uanding for some time, and even King Robert seemed to be eaining this nonsense for some time, but soon their patience would run out, and both Cersei and Jamie would have to answer for their words, so it would be best for them to mind what left their mouth.

  It was already proven beyond doubt that Cregan was i, ahey both tio insist and plot against him for some reason.

  “And what of the match between the boy and Myrcel? With Joffrey’s death, the match bees even more imbanced,” Tyrion shook his head at Jamie’s question.

  “I see no fault in it, but there is still much time ich. Cregan and Myrcel will not wed until she has bee a woman, which won’t be for a few years at least. It be ged anyhow until the two have not said their vows,” Tyrion advised as Jamie smirked.

  “You always were quite clever, brother,” Jamie teased, and Tyrion shrugged.

  “If only the Gods had given me your face, I would have been the best Lannister, but the Gods are fair. Cruel but fair,” Jamie chuckled, and it was good to see his brother smile. Joffrey’s death had made him dull and somber.

  “You are a Lanyrion. We are the richest men in the Land,” and Tyrion raised his cup as he looked into those eyes.

  “Aye! That we are! And a Lannister alays his debts,” he said.

  “And we shall pay them back a hundredfold for the death of Joffrey,” Jamie added as they both drowheir cups and fiheir breakfasts.

  And when Jamie left, Tyrion could only hope that his sister was more amicable to Jamie’s tohan his own. It was why he had approached Jamie rather than Cersei, for he khere was little love between them.

  And then, as he was sitting there, he saw a rather iing face walk into the Hall.

  “Ahh, Lord Beark,” he greeted the youark brother, the one who had forsaken all the good things in life to join the Night’s Watch.

  “Lord Tyrion,” the maed him as he saw down beside him as a serving girl came and asked him about the breakfast.

  The man seemed troubled for some reason. Tyrion had hoped to visit the Wall, but after Joffrey’s death he was forced to resider his itment, but he was still ied.

  “I have wao meet you for quite some time,” Tyrion added, and the man raised a brow.

  “And why is that?”

  “I have always been fasated by the Night’s Watch. I had hoped to visit the Wall, but as, Prince Joffreys’ death has forced me to postpohis adventure,” and the man’s eyes narrowed.

  “The Wall is no adve is a duty,” the man replied coldly, offended by his words.

  “Of course, a has stood tall for a thousand years. I find it rather fasating. You have stayed there for more than a decade. You must have quite a few tales to tell,” and with that, he reached into his pocket and took out the fi Arbor he had, and put it oable.

  “Perhaps I could tempt you to part with a few of them....”

  0000

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