Chapter 3

  CREGAN STARK

  Pain. Debilitating and excruciating pain that had been the first thing he had felt as he had first woken up in this world. The cold chill of his room in Winterfell had bee followed by utter fusion.

  To this day, he ofterapped in a dream, waiting to wake up.

  Yet as he felt another jolt of pain rip through his leg, he bit his lip as he bent down to avoid the sword that had just passed where his head had beehe excruciating pain made it impossible for him to get back up as he found himself crumbling to the ground, as the blunted edge of a sword was brought to his neck.

  "I yield," he mao utter through the pain as he let go of his own blunted bde and reached for the wineskio his side. He ope quickly as he gulped down a mouthful of diluted milk of poppy.

  "Sometimes I question your sanity for pushing yourself like this," uttered the man who had been one of his only panions in this wretched pce.

  Despite his affli and much protest, Lord Eddard Stark, his father, had refused to listen to him and had sent him away to the capital to foster with the man he had once called his brother. The capital, which was filled with Lannister men, was run by Lannister gold and armed by Laneel.

  "I don't, and I believe a barrel of fine wine shall be enough to drown those questions," Cregan answered as he poiowards the pouch of gold he had given to the plump man of rather good height.

  He was an outsider like him, born iy of Myr across the Narrow Sea, as ah son before his father would give him to the temple of the Red God.

  "Ahh, and fine wine shall it be," said Thoros of Myr with a chuckle as he pocketed the Gold and helped him to his feet as they found themselves in one of the underground tunnels beh the Red Keep, away fr eyes.

  Cregan wasn't idiot enough to believe that their rather regur meetings over the st year had gone unnoticed by the likes of Varys or perhaps Baelish, yet there wasn't much to hide in the first pce.

  The milk of poppy took its effect, and the pain began to dull, as Cregan took in a deep breath as he sat down on the floor beside his teacher, who offered him his wineskin.

  "Drink. It will dull the pain," he said, and though Cregan didn't like to drink wine, he would indulge himself sometimes, though in modesty. And giveributions of the past few days, he felt that he deserved a sip or two and took the offered wine, much to the surprise of the priest.

  "You must be rather troubled to take my offer," muttered the fat priest as Cregan handed him back the wineskin.

  "I thought you preferred Arbor to this tasteless swill," Cregan uttered as he forced the tasteless swill down his gullet, he had expected Arbold or perhaps a Dornish vintage.

  "I do, but the golds dried up in the past few moons, no touro test my mettle. I have heard its to do something with the hand falling ill," questiohe man as he looked towards him, and Cregan nodded.

  "Yes, Lord Arryn's dition has worsehe Graer isn't certain of his recovery," her does he wish or work for it.

  Though he didn't say that as Thoros of Myr nodded.

  "God bless the old man. He certainly had me living a vish life," said the follower of the Red God, and Cregan chuckled as he recalled how much Jon Arryn would try to viheir King to not waste money on a tourney every other moon.

  "Then I believe the Gods shall be blessing the wrong person, for it was the King who insisted oourneys. Lord Arryn was often opposed to them," Cregan replied, and the red priest chuckled and raised his wineskin.

  "Then may God bless The King and his Hand who may anize many more such tours," said the man as he gulped down a mouthful of wine, his words making Cregan still for a moment, for he kneas going to be the hand.

  His father. Eddard of House Stark he would e to the capital bound by his duty to his friend and King and would die by treachery.

  And he could stop it all. And he would try to, though he often doubted if he could.

  Being born as he was, Cregahat he had to ge things. Yet it was as if the very fates plotted against him, sending him to the capital for a f that was useless to him, pg him in the den of snakes where he could do nothing but watch.

  And though he may have failed to do much ba Winterfell as well, yet being in the capital had robbed him of his very freedom while putting a massive target on his back.

  "Though I have always wohe King has the realm's best swuarding him. You could have any of them train you for free. Then why do you e here i and pay me to train you when you could have the likes of Barristan the Bold or even the Kieach you in the yard of the Redkeep," questiohoros, and Cregan looked towards the man.

  His face was smooth, and he had shaved his head, his robes red as an homage to the God he once served.

  "The castle has many eyes and ears," Cregan replied cryptically, and though the reason robable, it was not the real reason for his discretion.

  "Hmph, I don't believe you are na?ve enough to believe that the eyes and ears you speak of aren't aware of our little escapades," Thoros answered, and Cregan looked towards the man with a raised brow.

  "The tales of the Spider's web were famous even in Myr. I hardly believe that ur meetings are a secret from the man," and Cregan nodded as he thought whether he should tell him the real reason.

  "It's because of the Prince," in the end, he decided to answer. After all, it wasn't anything sinister.

  "The Prince," and Cregan nodded.

  "Yes, in the yard, I train with him, and our Royal Prind his Queen mother do not take it kindly if someoshihe Royal prick," Cregan answered, and Thoros nodded.

  "Ahh, now it makes sense. You hold yourself ba the yard, and to make up for it, you have me train you," Cregan nodded. It was the most suitable solution.

  And Joffrey and Cersei's jealousy wasn't limited to the yard. Even in his lessons, Cregan was forced to hold himself back as he kept pace with the Prihough that didn't stop him from taking advantage of the vast colle of texts hidden in the Royal Library.

  "Of course, or did you think I liked being trained by a drunken priest instead of the likes of Ser Barristan the Bold," Cregan japed as both of them broke out into a chuckle as Thoros made to stand up.

  "Ahh, I believe I must be on my way. You have improved quite a lot over the year," he said as Cregan pushed himself up once again. The once excruciating pain had now been reduced to a dull ache, one which he had tended himself to live with for the rest of his life.

  "You still ot fight for long because of y. But you have got the basics down and could hold your own against many of the fake knights trodding around this city," said the man, and the praise made him smile as a sense of etioed in his heart.

  It wasn't useless. All the time he had spent trying to learn the sword hadn't been useless. The man walked away, though he suddenly stopped as he questioned suddenly.

  "Though I must ask, where do you get all this gold?" questiohoros, and Cregan smiled as he gave the man a cryptic smile.

  "From the clutches of a little Mogbird."

  0000

  CERSEI LANNISTER

  The Queen of the Seven Kingdoms hadn't slept in peace for days as the Red Keep whispered of the Hand's unfortue. They spoke of how the man had died so suddenly. They sang his praises, and each time they mentiohe name of the old Lord of the Eyrie, she felt as if a knife oi her neck, a khat would cut it out any sed now.

  Yet, as she saw the unmoving body of the old man infront of her, her heart eased slightly. Yet she khat until she had taken care of the people closer to him, she wouldn't get rid of that knife aimed at her neck.

  "I never sidered you to care much for the dead, dear sister," and that voice filled her heart with ease as she looked to the side as her other half ehe sept, shining white armor, with neigh a scrat it. His hair, golden, much like her own, had been fashioned with oil and reached his shoulders, his unblemished face as if chiseled by a master.

  "I just came to pay my respect to the te Lord Hand," she remarked regally as she stared at the Septon standing by the body. The man uood her signal ahe sept, leaving her aloh her brother who had now e to stand by her side.

  "You are too careless with your words, brother," she chided him, yet he paid her words no heed and smiled without any care in the word.

  "And you worry too much, whatever Jon Arryn knew, died with him," he remarked, and she shook her head, feeling the etal of the knife pressed against her neck as she turned her head to look at her other half.

  "The man could have told someone we ot leave any loose strand," she spoke, and Jamiw shook his head as he replied.

  "And what do you think will the people at court think when suddenly people close to our hand began to turn up dead, the man told no one, I guarded the door to his chambers myself when he fell ill. The man was reduced to blubbering mess in a few hours. You o rex," he said as he swung his arm around her shoulder, his head reag for her shoulder.

  She shrugged and pushed his arm away.

  "The boy, I have heard that he called the Stark boy to his room in the night," she spoke. She saw Jamie frown as he nodded with a sigh.

  "Yes, he did," he replied, and she felt her lips thin as she spoke up.

  "He could have told the boy!" she shouted, and Jamie shook his head.

  "I was there when the boy met him. He didn't say anything to him. And why would Arryhink of telling the boy about it? What good would that do," Jamie said with a shake of his head.

  He had always been like this, oblivious to the plots and maations around him. So it fell to her to protect them, protect him. Yet it was a task she would do gdly for him, both now and before when she had ruined one of her friends for thinking that they could tempt him.

  "Think. Jamie. Think! Who was the lord who grew up beside Robert in the Eyrie, the man whom Robert loves more than his own brothers, the same man who also called Arryn a father," she told him and finally realized what she was alluding to.

  "Eddard Stark," he whispered before he shook his head, in dismissal.

  "I was there when the boy met Jon Arryn, by then, the man couldn't even take his own name and could barely speak. And I asked him myself of what Arryn spoke to him. The boy said that the fever had gotten to the man's head and that he had called him Ned, and apart from that, eh hadn't been able to make sense of anything else," Jamie told her, and though his words assured her, she still couldn't let this go.

  "The boy could be lying," she ventured, and Jamie raised a brow.

  "I told you to rex. The boy knows nothing," and she sighed as she thought of how her husband had mentiohat wretched name himself.

  "Robert spoke of Eddard as well," she told Jamie, who was now listening with rapt attention.

  "I believe Robert wishes to make him his Hand," and she saw Jamie's lips thin at this for a sed before he shrugged.

  "A Stark this far up South, it has been some time since a Stark became the Hand," he remarked, and she khat Jamie was not fond of the an. After all, it had been him who had given him his accursed moniker.

  Kingsyer, and though he ughed it off, she didn't miss how his eyes would tighten whehat accursed name would call him.

  "You should be the Hand, or even father, not a barbarian from that wastend," she muttered and Jami didn't deny her words as he ed his arms around her.

  "I assure you he won't st long here in the South. Everyone knows Starks don't do well in the South. He will probably end up resigning within a year," and maybe he was right. She was w over nothing.

  Yet, as she remembered the Stark boy's ominous gaze, she shook her head as she sighed.

  "He did," she added, as Jamie scoffed.

  "He is no Stark, he is a boy," Jamie dismissed her , but she could not. She saw what others did not.

  "That boy ules me. He is quiet, too quiet," she remarked, and that was odd. Usually, boys his age would be boisterous, loud, and filled with wonder aement.

  Yet the boy was quiet. Quiet enough that if one were not to pay attention, they would often fet that he was even there, and that gaze. Those grey eyes they somewhat reminded him of the eyes ar, filled with an unspeakable burden.

  "You fet who he is father is. They called ark, the Quiet Wolf. The boy simply takes after his father too much," Jamie remarked and that was reason enough even though her heart told her that there was something else hidden uhat gaze.

  Yet no matter what she felt, as long as he was in the capital, she could not move against him. Yet away from the capital. Yes, after all the woods be such a dangerous pce for a crippled young d.

  0000

  Outside the red stone walls of the Red keep, in one of the rgest building so the city, one infamous for fulfilling every desire a man could have, a small man, dressed in fine garbs flushed in rage as he berated tow man armor.

  "What do you mean you haven't found the mohis is the third time, we have been robbed a you still have no lead!" the man thundered, and the Gold Cloaks dipped their heads, though one of them tried to speak up.

  "We searched the whole Flea Bottom, my lord. There was no sig…."

  "I don't care! I want my money found! And the man who dared steal from me at my feet!" the man spoke in a ce, and the two guards simply nodded.

  "As you say, my lord!" and thewo guards rushed out of the room, leaving the man alone in the room. The maled down in his chair as he poured himself a cup of wihe truth was that the money wasn't muearly a huhousand Gold Dragons. Ahis was not the first time it had happened but this was the rgest amount they had stolen.

  "Who are you and what are you even doing with this gold," he whispered for despite vast searches they had not ever found any of the gold stolen from him. Who would steal from him just for the sake of stealing from him.

  Or was it a plot from that damned spider, and the more he thought of it, the more it began to make sense.

  "Could it really be you, Varys," he whispered as he put down the cup and his eyes glinted.

  "We will see about that," and at that he picked up the bell and rung it as a guard ehe room once more.

  "Have the gates and the docks sealed. I want every carriage and trunk that leaves the city in any way searched for the stolen gold. No one leaves the city without a proper search," he ordered. The man nodded and motioned for him to leave. Then he plopped donned his little revenge.

  As he sat there seething in rage, a raven sat outside his window, eyeing the man unnaturally before it took to the skies and vanished into the skies darkened skies once more, as a brown-haired boy opened his eyes in his room smiling at his misfortune.

  0000

  Read ahead and support me on Patreon. Help me write this and other such stories by being a Patron. It would be pretty awesome of you and would mean a lot to me.

  /Drkest

  Have a nice day!