If there's one thing I've learned through all this time south of the Neck, is not to believe the stories the smallfolk popularize.
"Hey Hatten," I said from my desk. "Do you believe Lord Tully crushed the Mountain in one strike?"
My right hand man let out a long suffering sigh before replying, "Jon, I don't care if Lord Tully gutted the Mountain and hanged him from a tree. The Moat's steelworks is running low on iron."
"Yeah, I don't believe that tale either."
I mean, I've shamelessly spread exaggerated facts about my brother's campaign, but the new Lord Tully crushing the Mountain with a single blow? Please, even propagandists have standards.
In an instant, my brain supplied images from my past life…
Alright fine, I guess good propagandists have standards.
The bards in Maidenpool have been hard at work, but I guess calling for a new song writing contest for Lord Tully's efforts was a good policy. Only, to make it a little bit more credible, I'll ask for Lord Beric's contributions to be raised a little bit. 'The river that broke the mountain' perhaps? Probably needs something about lightning too. I'll leave it to the artists to decide.
"Also, about the raw iron, I'll write to Lord Manderly, and to my brother. Manderly can set up a deal with Vale lords, last I remember the Royces have a small port town, the Melcolms too, and Redforts and Waynwoods have good iron. As for Robb, well, he'll look gracious and very royal for his foresight when the Vale lords meet him."
I didn't hear an answer for a while, so I raised my gaze from the parchment I was writing to understand my aide's silence.
"…Uhm, isn't the Vale… uhm you know…" Hatten said.
"Not on our side?" I said and my friend nodded, thankful to not being the one slandering (telling the truth about) a great noble house. "Well, we know of at least four Vale houses firmly on our side, I say we should show how being friends with us comes with great benefits."
Is setting up a profitable trade deal with the Vale lords supporting our cause pressuring the Lady Regent of the Vale to fully stand with the North and Riverlands? Of course not, it's just a trade deal, no shady politics of any sort anywhere in sight.
I didn't know why Lady Lysa Arryn nee Tully hasn't helped yet, but I seriously wanted to find out.
Hatten looked like he wanted to say something, but thought better of it and settled for: "New caravans from White Harbor will be then."
With that we returned to our work.
It has been ten days since the storming of Harrenhal, the riders I sent to Riverrun explaining Arya's safety should be finding my brother soon.
It would've been easier if Robb came with the army to Harrenhal, alas, my brother was too cautious.
The Kingslayer massing an army west? That's obviously to tie a part of Robb's army there. Robb only needed to select a loyal man to hold the mountain pass and call it a day. The Kingslayer would be insane to attack the Riverlands again.
From how I view it, he's killing time until he finds a passage to King's Landing. Well good luck with that. I'm sure some greedy sellsails could try to get them past the Redwyne fleet, or perhaps hire some legendary smuggler to move a couple tons of gold to hire all the sellsails of Essos and break Stannis blockade.
In short, the Lannisters are fucked.
I needed no further proof of that fact other than the letter sitting on my desk.
The letter beared the royal seal and is signed by the Hand of the King himself.
After trying to stroke my ego, downplaying Robb's achievements and a litany of how the Iron Throne rewards its leal subjects, the letter ends with: "The North should be in capable hands."
…Tywin must be desperate.
I had been sorely tempted to burn the letter, but decided against it in the end. I sent Robb a raven to warn him about the possibility of some unfathomably stupid lord believing Tywin's spiel and going against him. Better safe than sorry and all that.
I also showed the letter to Arya last night while dining. I thought she'd have a laugh. Instead, she became furious and went off to pound the straw dummies in the yard. I had to patiently wait for her and reassure her and calm her down. "No one is stupid enough to betray Robb," I told her, in many different ways until she finally believed me.
Night fell and I picked up a few pieces of parchment from my desk.
"Well then Hatten." I stood from my chair. "Everything is ready, keep the good work in my absence. Now, let's go for dinner."
We left the room to the night shift guards and went our way to a manor some Tyroshi merchant left unattended.
"Say Jon," Hatten said. "Did you decide to bring your halberd with you?"
That was a sore spot of mine. Had I known my weapon would become a foci that substantially increased my skinchanging capabilities would I still choose my unwieldy halberd?
"I'm taking it with me, just… well, I'll see what I do when it's time."
Guards received us and a servant guided the way to the manor's main hall.
This feast was a celebration for the successful retaking of Harrenhal and the mark of the beginning of a new campaign. Due to that, I was seated in the same table with the Mootons. It was a good enough dinner, grilled fish, deep fried fish, mutton and crabs were served. Lord Mooton talked about how great His Grace was, and how loyal the Mootons were.
It was exhausting. Thank the gods that Lady Mooton stopped her husband half way through his speech on loyalty and politely asked to retire for the night. For that alone, I decided to gift her something nice for her nameday.
With Lord Mooton out of sight, my night became a tad more relaxed. And while the ale and wine circulated through the guests, I limited myself.
When the ambient was merry and looser I went off my table and talked my way through the Neck lords toward my objective.
"I'll come back before you know it Arya."
The Mormont squires were in the main hall of the feast. So I took advantage to talk to my little sister.
"Father said the same."
"Father didn't know what he was up against."
Her eyes turned steel. "The city smells awful, the people are mean and hurtful, and Joffrey and the queen…" Arya said while turning her head away from me. "I hate them."
We had this conversation a couple of times already. I could understand her, she was a child who went through something horrific and somehow, someway, was able to find her way to a trustworthy adult-like figure, only to be separated once again.
"You know why I must go."
She was quiet for a moment before turning her head back to me. "What if you don't come back?" she whispered with her jaw clenched.
I ruffled her hair with my hand. I could have lied. "Even if I knew I wouldn't be back, I'd still go," I said instead.
Perhaps if we were back at Winterfell, my sister would've believed a white lie, but this was not Winterfell, and this was not the Arya from back there.
"Ser Cleos Frey arrived two days back, he holds Robb's terms. The army is marching to Duskendale to put pressure on the crown," and Renly and Stannis, "so that they give us Sansa back."
"Then take me with you!" my sister said. "I've been to King's Landing, walked its streets. I know of some of the tunnels in the Red Keep."
How to make her understand without using the 'because I said so'?
"Arya, what would you do if Rickon told you that he wants to accompany you into King's Landing to find Sansa?"
Her face scrunched up. "I'd take him with me."
"We both know that's not true." I gave her a half hug with my arm, she leaned into it. "It's just the way things are, lil' wolf. There are some things you just have to do."
She buried her face in my shoulder and between sobs, she made me promise to come back.
After Arya exhausted herself, Jorelle picked her up to her room.
I turned to the other squire staying in Maidenpool. "Melissa, please keep an eye out for my sister."
"I will, m'lord," the girl said and I nodded.
Throughout the days, more people came to know Cat of King's Landing was in reality Arya Stark of Winterfell. We relaxed the secrecy once the Night's Watch was gone, but we were selective about it. To the world at large, Jorelle Mormont had a feisty lowborn squire.
"Well then." I stood up. "Hatten please take care of the shipments, the fields must look great by my return."
Hatten was staying in Maidenpool, his talents with logistics would be a great boon for this campaign.
"For that to hold true, we'd need a dozen green men, my lord."
"Knowing you, you'll find a couple of them for cheap."
###
We left at dawn.
The ones staying in Maidenpool were Lord Boggs, Jorelle and Hatten. The orphan boys of the Night's Watch also stayed. They didn't have a place marching into the Crownlands with a very debilitated army.
With every step closer to Duskendale, there was the possibility of Tywin taking every man he had and crushing us before our reinforcements from Harrenhal arrived.
It was a possibility. Not a very likely one with Stannis and Renly marching on King's Landing. It was a calculated risk and a show of strength on our part.
Besides, I didn't plan on laying siege to Duskendale, or at least not really. I thought to send a raven to Lord Rykker to clarify our position, but it was a dumb idea.
Lord Rykker may not like the Lannisters, but he didn't like the Starks neither.
Due to that, my army (and the Harrenhal reinforcements) were ordered to not burn fields nor do wanton slaughter. This was just to pressure the kings marching on King's Landing.
To Joffrey, this was a clear message of strength. Together with Ser Cleos Frey arriving at King's Landing with my brother's terms, this should ensure Sansa's prisoner exchange.
To Stannis and Renly, this was putting pressure on their campaigns and infecting their ranks with doubt.
From the skies, Cerati saw farmers working on their fields. It was a sunny day and his vision was unparalleled for keeping my host safe.
I would be able to see enemy scouts or an army long before they would be able to spot us. I was sure Westerosi commanders would sell their firstborn for such an advantage.
"Lord Stark," Perwyn said from my side. "You think Renly will take King's Landing?"
We didn't yet have confirmation of Renly's movements, we didn't know for sure if he divided his army to retake Storm's End and King's Landing or if he was marching with everything to either of those objectives.
Having said that, almost everyone believed he was taking his whole army to King's Landing.
The issue with dividing his army, aside from showing lack of confidence to his bannermen (thank you Westeros), is Robb's army. Our sole presence in close proximity to the Crownlands should be enough for Renly to keep his army together and, at the same time, make things harder for Stannis.
Our side doesn't intend to fight any of the Baratheon brother's, but they don't know that for sure. Keeping our presence to Duskendale should give us enough leverage against all sides while at the same time giving us a way out. All we needed was the competent scouts coming with Lord Edmure.
"Jon?" Perwyn said while leaning on his horse. "Got enough sleep?"
I shook my head. "Don't worry about it, I slept enough." I paused to check on Ghost's string. "Renly has the biggest army, on parchment he should be taking King's Landing…"
"But?"
"But a seasoned commander like Stannis wouldn't be marching if he didn't thought he had a chance. He has to have something, maybe allies within the city, maybe allies inside Renly's camp, or…" magic? "I don't know, but he has to have something."
With that, the steady lull of the march continued.
Our thousand and seven hundred men marched forward. Farmers and common men got out of our way, and thankfully my host kept their discipline and I didn't had to hang anyone. Small victories I guess.
Once we reached Duskendale, the next part of the plan would come.
###
Across from Sansa Stark, with a cup of wine in hand, the Queen Dowager sat, eyes lost on the morning sky.
It had been a while since Sansa saw Joffrey. She didn't miss it, in fact she was quite happy not to see the king. And it was all thanks to the arrival of the new Hand.
Sansa had known of what Lord Tywin did to the noble houses who opposed him. "Root and stem" Father said about it. Besides that, Lord Tywin was the one who faced Robb in the war.
The moment the Hand saw her, she felt shivers course through her. Where her father's eyes were kind and welcoming, Lord Tywin's were cruel and cold. And even then, she was thankful.
Since his arrival, no one had hurt her and Joffrey didn't call for her no more.
"Lady Sansa," Princess Myrcella said from the side. "Could you help me with my embroidery? My stag's eyes look… don't look like eyes."
"Of course, my princess. Should we go over there?" Sansa gestured toward the side where padded chairs were.
Both girls offered their courtesies to the queen before leaving the table.
"My grandfather says I should practice my needlework with the rose of the Tyrells, and with the direwolf of your house Lady Sansa," the princess whispered. "My mother doesn't like me practicing, I think she's jealous of my needlework."
In her first meeting with Lord Tywin, Sansa had been terrified. She remembered of every time Joffrey called for her, and thought that perhaps Lord Tywin was about to claim her head.
However, in the end, he simply told her that from that day onwards, she would be a companion to Princess Myrcella. That they would have their meals and lessons together.
Sansa had to admit, her days with Myrcella had been pleasant. In every meal, the queen would only spare a word or two for her and the princess. It served Sansa quite right, she didn't want the queen's attention on herself.
Myrcella, on the other hand, had been a nice change. The princess was polite and of easy smiles, nothing like Joffrey. When they spent time together, Sansa could almost forget she was a hostage.
And because of that, because she hadn't seen Joffrey for a while, because Myrcella was a sweet girl, because the queen ignored her existence, because she felt grateful to her brother's enemy… because all of that, Sansa felt guilty.
She felt like something gnawing inside her every time she felt relieved, every time she felt grateful to her family's enemies.
"Look!" Myrcella said while showing her work. "The eyes look uneven, even though I counted the stitches for each one."
"Ah, that's because your stag is turned to the side, my princess. You should use less stitches for the farthest eye."
Sansa spent the afternoon explaining perspective to the princess. They even went to the library so see more drawings for Myrcella to understand what she meant.
They were singing together in Princess Myrcella's gardens when hunger struck them.
"Arra, bring us some bread, olives and cheese, please," Sansa asked a maid.
"I want honey too!" added the princess.
Sansa had been doing steady progress in getting to know the servants. By now, she knew the name of all the maids assigned to her, four in total. Thanks to spending time with the princess, she also got to know a couple of the servants taking care of the royal family as well.
She didn't know if it would help her, however, it did made her feel safer. As if knowing that little bit more gave her some tiny sliver of control back in her life.
The princess chose to try honey and olives together, even after Sansa warned her.
"Yuck! Puah!" Myrcella scrunched up her face in disgust.
"Here, my princess." Sansa handed her a cup of juice. "Drink to wash your tongue."
When the princess calmed herself, they locked gazes and broke down in laughter.
"That was awful," Princess Myrcella said, between her laughs. "You should try it next!"
Instead of olives, Sansa tried cheese with honey. It wasn't awful. In fact, she thought she could grow to enjoy the taste.
After stuffing herself with bread and honey, the princess left to her rooms. Not before Sansa promised her to help her with the embroidering of the direwolf of her house.
Sansa watched the princess leave and moved deeper into the godswood.
"Arra, eat please," Sansa said while out of sight of the guards.
"Thank you, m'lady," the maid sat by her side, looking around between each bite.
It was a crime for the servants to eat from the king's pantry, but Arra had a babe and the Maesters always said how mothers needed to eat for two. And food for the smallfolk was scarce these days.
The first time she offered, Arra had been petrified. Sansa had to cup the maid's hands and offer reassurances to get her to taste some bread.
After a few more minutes, Arra stopped eating. Sansa was certain the maid wasn't full, but she wouldn't be able convince the maid to eat much more.
"Thank you, m'lady. You are too kind." Arra bowed to her.
"Clean the crumbs off and help me take the last of the bread and cheese to my rooms."
She reached her rooms with Arra by her side. The maid left the plate of bread and cheese in a small table and left her alone, not before repeating her thanks.
It was times like this when Sansa didn't feel useless. Arra was a lowborn woman who worked at the Red Keep, there were many like her in every castle of the realm. And yet, whenever she showed gratitude toward Sansa… it made her feel a tiny bit more important.
Sansa picked up her book from the shelves and went to lay on her bed.
Her tears didn't come as fast now. Her sobs didn't wreck her body now.
And yet, Sansa still cried everyday.
She dried her face with a white cloth, and called for a bath.
After her bath, only the maidservant brushing her hair was left with her.
"Have you heard more about what you told me yesterday?" Sansa asked.
"I didn't get any names, m'lady." Annara said. "Only that the queen sent a Northern girl to Lord Baelish."
Annara was a young woman, younger than Arra perhaps a year or two older than Robb. She was an innkeeper's daughter, niece to a cook in the Red Keep. She was saving up for her dowry, even if she hadn't found a 'good man' just yet.
"I am glad then," Sansa said. "Lord Baelish is my mother's friend, and has always been courteous to me. If Jeyne is truly with him… she's in good hands."
Annara grew still, but quickly returned to her task.
"Annara please, tell me what's in your mind, I've grown to prefer the harsh truth to a rosy lie."
The only sound in the room was that of the brush for a while.
"Are you sure, m'lady?"
"I am."
Sansa was surprised of how easy those words came to her now.
Annara sighed. "Lord Baelish gives loans to anyone desperate enough to take them, m'lady." Sansa knew about the loans, she didn't quite understand how that was bad. "He also owns multiple brothels in the city, when people can't repay the loans… Lord Baelish takes his payments in flesh. Wives or daughters, it matters not to a man like him," she spat to the floor. "I-I'm sorry, m'lady!" she yelped.
The brush fell as Annara frantically rubbed the floor with her skirt's hem. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry" she was saying.
Sansa stood from her chair and kneeled by her maid's side.
"I'm not offended," she said patting Annara's back. "No one will know what happened here, or what you told me."
The maid was scared, she could raise her gaze from the floor and her back was stiff. A memory of Father crossed her mind, and with that she knew what to do.
"I won't tell anyone of what happened here or what you told me, I swear it on the old gods and the new."
Annara glanced at her and Sansa gave her a nod and a smile.
Tears were pooling in her maid's eyes.
"M'lady is too kind. Thank you, m'lady, thank you."
After a few minutes, they moved to her bed to continue with the brushing.
"Can you tell me what vexed you so?" Sansa asked.
She felt her maid tense again.
"It's… I lost a friend to Lord Baelish brothels, m'lady. Lily was her name, her and her husband used to have a bakery close to my family's inn. She would always give me sweet bread when I was a little girl, but then… they were robbed, her little house trashed and her husband took a loan from Lord Baelish. They couldn't pay, and her husband left the city not much after she was taken to a brothel.
"I saw her twice after that, one time while walking in the Street of Flour. She was looking for sweet bread." Annara smiled at that. "She had a nice dress and smiled at me, but her eyes. Her eyes were sad.
"I beg your pardon, m'lady, but I lied to you. I wasn't saving coin for my dowry, I was saving my coin to pay Lily's debts and free her. I begged my aunt for a job, and somehow or another, she got me inside the Red Keep. The second time I saw Lily was a few moons later, I told her of my plan, of how with both of us working, we would pay her debts faster. She laughed and hugged me and gave me sweet bread, it was the happiest I've ever been.
"I never saw her again, m'lady. When I asked around, all anyone ever told me was that 'whores die, it's just the way it is'. I never knew where she worked, and I was too afraid to go asking around brothels on my own. Whatever you do m'lady, please, I beg of you, please don't trust Lord Baelish."
Sansa had never known why people called Baelish a flesh peddler.
"Annara, Is every- Are all brothels like that?"
"I don't know, m'lady. I-I think?"
Before hearing her maid's story, she thought that Jeyne being with Lord Baelish was a good thing, but now, she wasn't so certain.
"If in those brothels… if a noble lady was—"
"Never, m'lady. No noble lady would work in a brothel for a debt. If it were so, the good people of King's Landing would burn the place to the ground."
With that, she decided to keep being courteous to Lord Baelish. She couldn't understand why her mother considered him a friend, but Sansa wouldn't make an enemy of him.
###
Sansa liked the Red Keep's godswood.
Princess Myrcella was having lunch in the Tower of the Hand with her grandfather and Sansa spent her day with her needlework in the godswood. She was embroidering the heart tree, it was hard to keep the branches and leaves consistent. It was good to keep her occupied.
She had crossed paths with Lord Baelish a couple of times, it was hard to look at the lord's eyes now. Not with what she knew. She had been polite, just as usual.
"Greetings, my lady," someone said startling her. "I'm so sorry Lady Sansa, I didn't mean to scare you."
Sansa carefully stashed her needles away, it was her brother's gift, and she couldn't bear another loss, not in King's Landing.
"No worries, my lord. I was distracted myself and didn't hear you coming."
"I too find myself oft distracted these days," he said with a giggle. "And what a better place to be a little distracted than the godswood, right Lady Sansa?"
The godswood of Winterfell was a hundred times better. "I can't think of a better place in the Red Keep, Lord Varys."
###
A/N: Ngl, I think now I know why a lot of fics end up being abandoned. The brainstorming for this next chapters got me bashing my head against the keyboard (sometimes literally), but thankfully, Sansa exists! Expect to read more from her PoV. (lowkey, I understand Martin a bit better now)
I'm a bit worried that Jon's part give a little too much of what the 'next phase' will be, but meh, especulation go!
You can give me tips: p.a.t.r.e.o.n.c.o.m / yorud, only if you want and can.
Give me your comments! (☞ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)☞