Chapter 15
Ned Stark sat at the head of the long wooden table, his face set in a mask of stern resolve as he listened to Sansa and Arya's pleas to accompany him to King's Landing.
Sansa, ever composed, made her case first. "Father, it would be a great honor to see the capital and the royal court. I've always dreamt of it."
Arya, less restrained, added with a pout, "I want to see the capital too."
Ned sighed, shaking his head. "I understand your wishes, truly. But with Robb, Jon, Harry, and Fleur traveling to Moat Cailin to oversee its refurbishment, Winterfell will need strong leadership in their absence."
He turned his gaze to Sansa. "Sansa, as the eldest daughter, your presence here is essential. You will need to assist your mother in managing Winterfell and looking after Bran."
Sansa's face fell, but she nodded, understanding the weight of her responsibilities.
Arya started to protest, but Ned raised a hand to stop her. "Arya, you have a duty here as well. Your lessons and training will continue, and your presence will support your family during this time."
Sansa sighed but nodded in acceptance, knowing her father's decision was final. Arya, though visibly disappointed, did the same, much to Ned's relief.
—
Ned Stark sat at his desk, deep in thought. Harry's words echoed in his mind, painting a grim picture of Joffrey's true nature. The boy was not just a petulant prince but a potential danger to anyone close to him. Sansa's infatuation with Joffrey worried Ned, and he knew he had to act swiftly and decisively.
A soft knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. It was Catelyn, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity.
"Ned, what troubles you?" she asked gently, stepping into the room.
Ned sighed, rubbing his temples. "Harry told me things about Joffrey, things that made my blood run cold. That boy is not fit to be king, or a husband to our daughter."
Catelyn's eyes widened. "What do you mean?"
"He is cruel, sadistic. He enjoys causing pain," Ned explained. "And there is more. Joffrey is not Robert's son. He is the product of Cersei and her uncle Kevan Lannister's incest. I have no solid proof yet, but I need to protect Sansa and our family."
Catelyn sat down, absorbing the gravity of his words. "What can we do?" she asked, her voice steady despite the worry in her eyes.
Ned sighed deeply, the weight of his responsibilities pressing down on him. "We must keep Sansa and Arya here, away from Joffrey and the dangers of King's Landing. I'll continue my investigation into Joffrey's parentage and gather the evidence needed to expose the truth. Harry will be instrumental in this."
Catelyn nodded, her trust in Ned unwavering. She knew that Harry, who had become Ned's trusted confidant and spymaster in such a short time, would play a crucial role in their plans. She didn't fully understand how Harry gathered his information or why Ned trusted him so implicitly, but she had faith in her husband's judgment.
"Ned, how does Harry get his information?" she asked softly, her curiosity getting the better of her.
Ned shook his head, a small smile playing at his lips. "Harry has his ways, Cat. Ways that are best kept secret for everyone's safety. What matters is that his information has always been reliable."
Catelyn accepted this explanation, sensing that pressing for more details would not yield answers. "Then we will trust in Harry's abilities and your plan. We will keep Sansa and Arya safe here in Winterfell."
Ned reached out and took her hand, squeezing it gently. "Thank you, Cat. Your support means everything to me. We must remain vigilant and prepared for whatever comes next."
Catelyn returned his squeeze, her eyes reflecting the determination and strength she drew from her husband. "We will, Ned. Winterfell stands strong, and so do we."
—
Joffrey strode across the courtyard with an air of self-importance, his eyes locked on Dany as she stood near the training grounds, watching Jon and Robb spar. He had been drawn to her mysterious allure ever since her arrival and was determined to win her favor.
"Lady Fleur," Joffrey called out, his voice carrying an exaggerated charm. "I must say, your presence here brightens Winterfell considerably."
Dany turned to face him, her expression carefully composed. "Thank you, Prince Joffrey. You are too kind."
Joffrey puffed up with pride, encouraged by her polite response. "It's only the truth. I was wondering if you would do me the honor of a walk through the godswood. I could show you its beauty, and perhaps share some stories of the court in King's Landing."
Dany hesitated, glancing briefly towards Harry, who was engaged in conversation with Lord Stark. She had been warned about Joffrey's nature and knew she had to tread carefully.
"That is a generous offer, Your Grace," she said, choosing her words with care. "However, I must decline for now. I have promised to observe the training and provide some insights from my homeland."
Joffrey's smile faltered slightly, but he quickly masked his disappointment. "Of course, Lady Fleur. Another time, perhaps. But if there's anything you need or any way I can assist you, do not hesitate to ask."
Dany nodded graciously. "I will remember that. Thank you, Prince Joffrey."
As Joffrey walked away, trying to hide his frustration, Dany let out a quiet sigh of relief. She was grateful for the brief reprieve and the distance she could maintain from the prince.
Harry had observed the interaction from afar, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched Joffrey's attempts to court Dany. He made his way over to her, his expression one of mild concern.
"Is everything all right, Fleur?" he asked, using her alias with a knowing look.
Dany smiled, her eyes twinkling with a mix of amusement and exasperation. "Yes, Harry. The young prince seems quite determined to win my favor."
Harry chuckled softly. "I noticed. It's best to keep him at arm's length. Joffrey's intentions are rarely pure."
Dany nodded in agreement. "I know. But for now, I can handle him. We have more important matters to focus on."
Harry's expression softened, and he reached out to gently squeeze her hand. "Indeed we do. Let's keep our eyes on the prize."
—
Joffrey, seething with frustration after being politely rebuffed by Dany, stormed through the courtyard. His usual arrogance was replaced by a barely contained rage. As he rounded a corner, he nearly collided with Sansa, who was walking with a book in her hands.
"Watch where you're going!" Joffrey snapped, his eyes flashing with anger.
Sansa, startled and flustered, dropped her book. "I'm sorry, Your Grace," she stammered, bending down to pick it up.
Joffrey's irritation was palpable as he glared down at her. "Do you always go about crashing into people, or is this some special skill of yours?"
Sansa looked up at him, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "No, Your Grace, it was an accident. I apologize."
Joffrey's expression softened slightly as he took in her contrite demeanor. He was still angry, but there was something about Sansa's meekness that soothed his wounded pride. "See that it doesn't happen again," he muttered, turning to leave.
Jon and Robb, having finished their sparring session, had seen the entire interaction from a distance. They exchanged a concerned look, both bristling at Joffrey's treatment of Sansa.
Robb clenched his fists, his protective instincts flaring. "He's a real piece of work, that one."
Jon nodded, his expression dark. "We need to keep an eye on him. Sansa shouldn't have to deal with his temper."
They started to walk over to Sansa, who was still visibly shaken.
Joffrey, still fuming, continued his brisk walk through the courtyard, not noticing that Sansa was now being comforted by her brothers. He was too consumed by his own anger and embarrassment. As he strode away, he muttered to himself about the day's humiliations.
—
Cersei Lannister walked through the dimly lit corridors of Winterfell, her mind swirling with a mix of envy and frustration. The young and captivating Fleur Peverell, who had quickly become the center of attention, was a constant thorn in her side. Cersei couldn't stand the idea that someone younger and more beautiful was stealing the spotlight she believed should always be hers.
"She thinks she's so perfect," Cersei muttered to herself, her green eyes narrowing as she recalled Fleur's serene demeanor and the way everyone seemed entranced by her. "But beauty fades, and power is what truly matters."
Her musings were interrupted when she spotted Lancel Lannister, her cousin and the squire to her husband, King Robert. Lancel was standing at attention, his boyish face showing a mix of nervousness and eagerness to please. Cersei's frustration found a new target as she approached him, her lips curling into a predatory smile.
"Lancel," Cersei called out, her voice dripping with false warmth.
Lancel turned quickly, bowing his head. "My queen," he replied, his voice trembling slightly with the mixture of respect and fear Cersei always inspired.
Cersei moved closer, her eyes locking onto his. "You seem tense, cousin. Has Robert been working you too hard?"
Lancel swallowed, his cheeks flushing. "No, my queen. I am happy to serve."
"Such dedication," Cersei purred, her hand reaching out to brush a lock of hair from his forehead. "But you needn't be so formal with me. We're family, after all."
Lancel's eyes widened as Cersei's touch lingered, her fingers trailing down his cheek. "Thank you, my queen," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.
Cersei's smile widened as she took a step closer, her body nearly pressing against his. "Perhaps you could help me relieve some of the tension I've been feeling," she suggested, her tone leaving no room for misinterpretation.
Lancel's breath hitched, his eyes darting nervously around the corridor. "My queen, I... I don't..."
Cersei silenced him with a finger to his lips. "Hush, Lancel. No one needs to know. Come with me."
Cersei led Lancel to the secluded and rarely used Broken Tower, her grip firm on his arm. Once inside, she closed the door behind them, her eyes never leaving his. The power she felt in these moments, the control over someone so pliable, gave her a twisted sense of satisfaction. It was a brief escape from the insecurities and the ever-present need to assert her dominance in a world that constantly challenged her.
"Now, Lancel," she whispered, her voice low and commanding. "Show me how devoted you truly are."
Lancel, caught between fear and desire, nodded shakily. "Yes, my queen," he managed to say, his voice quivering.
—
Bran Stark, the young and adventurous son of Eddard and Catelyn Stark, was scaling the ancient stones of the Broken Tower. His love for climbing often led him to explore the hidden and forgotten corners of Winterfell. Today, his curiosity had brought him to the Broken Tower, a place he rarely visited but found intriguing nonetheless.
As Bran reached a ledge near the top, he paused to catch his breath, his small hands gripping the rough stones. It was then that he heard muffled voices coming from within the tower. Intrigued, Bran edged closer to a narrow window, peering inside to see who might be there.
—
Cersei and Lancel were entwined, lost in their illicit affair. The flickering torch light cast shadows on the walls, highlighting their forbidden embrace. Cersei's eyes were closed, a look of satisfaction on her face as she reveled in her control over the young squire.
—
Bran's eyes widened in shock as he realized what he was witnessing. His heart pounded in his chest, and he instinctively leaned back, his mind racing. He knew he shouldn't be seeing this, but his body seemed frozen in place, unable to tear his gaze away from the scandalous scene unfolding before him.
In his panic, Bran's foot slipped on the ledge, sending a small shower of pebbles clattering down the side of the tower. The noise echoed in the otherwise quiet air, startling both Bran and the pair inside.
—
Cersei's eyes snapped open at the sound, her head turning sharply toward the window. She spotted Bran's small form just outside, his wide eyes betraying his shock and fear. For a moment, their gazes locked, and Cersei's expression hardened with a mix of anger and fear.
"Lancel," she hissed, shoving him aside and quickly straightening her clothes. "Someone's watching us."
Lancel, confused and flustered, followed her gaze to the window. His face paled as he saw Bran.
—
Realizing he had been seen, Bran's survival instincts kicked in. He turned and scrambled down the tower as quickly as he could, his heart racing with the urgency of escaping before Cersei could reach him.
Bran's foot slipped on the wet stone, and he found himself plummeting towards the ground below. Panic seized him, his arms flailing as he struggled to regain control. But before he could hit the ground, he felt a sudden jolt and a rush of air.
—
Bran landed softly on his bed, his surroundings shifting instantly. He was back in his room, safe and sound. Confused and disoriented, he looked around, trying to understand what had just happened. The necklace around his neck glowed faintly, the Emergency Portkey having activated to save him from a life-threatening situation.
—
Harry, who was with Dany in their chambers, felt the sudden surge of magic from the necklaces he had gifted the Stark children. He immediately recognized the activation of the Emergency Portkey and traced the magic back to Bran.
"Dany, something's happened to Bran. The Portkey activated," Harry said urgently, already moving towards the door.
Dany nodded, her face set in determination. "Let's go. We need to make sure he's alright."
—-
As Harry and Dany rushed through the halls, they encountered Robb and Jon.
"What's going on?" Robb asked, noticing their urgency.
"It's Bran. Something happened," Harry explained quickly. "We need to get to him now."
Jon's face tightened with concern. "Let's find Father."
—-
The group reached Lord Stark's study, where they found Ned going over some documents.
"Father," Robb called out, "Bran's in trouble. We need to go to him."
Ned's eyes widened, but he didn't hesitate. "Lead the way."
—
Harry, Dany, Robb, Jon, and Ned hurried to Bran's room. They burst in to find Bran sitting on his bed, looking shaken but unharmed.
"Bran!" Ned exclaimed, rushing to his son. "Are you alright?"
Bran nodded, still trying to catch his breath. "I'm fine, Father. I was... climbing the tower and... I slipped. But then I was here."
Harry stepped forward, examining the faint glow of the necklace. "The Portkey worked as intended. It brought him to safety."
Ned turned to Harry, his eyes filled with gratitude. "Thank you, Harry. I don't know what we would have done without your help."
Harry nodded, his expression serious. "We need to find out what caused Bran to slip. This might be more than just an accident."
Bran's eyes darted nervously between them. "I saw something, Father. In the Broken Tower... I saw Queen Cersei and Lancel..."
The room fell silent as the gravity of Bran's words sank in. Ned's face hardened with determination.
"Thank you for telling us, Bran," Ned said, his voice firm. "We'll handle this. For now, you need to rest and stay safe."
As Ned left Bran's room, the group exchanged tense glances, knowing that what Bran had seen could have far-reaching consequences for all of them.
—
Cersei and Lancel stood frozen in the chamber, the gravity of their situation slowly sinking in. Panic began to set in as they realized the implications of Bran witnessing their illicit affair.
Cersei's mind raced, calculating their next move. "Lancel, we can't let this get out," she hissed, her voice barely a whisper. "If the boy talks, we're both finished."
Lancel, pale and trembling, nodded shakily. "What do we do, my queen?"
Cersei clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms as she fought to maintain her composure. "We need to act quickly. We can't afford any mistakes."
Cersei paced back and forth, her eyes darting to the window where Bran had been moments before. "We need to find out if the boy has already spoken to anyone. If he has, we'll have to deal with it."
Lancel swallowed hard, the fear evident in his eyes. "Deal with it? How?"
Cersei shot him a withering glare. "Use your brain, Lancel. We need to ensure his silence."
Lancel looked around the chamber, his thoughts scattered. "We could... we could threaten him, make him promise not to say anything."
Cersei shook her head vehemently. "No, threats won't be enough. If he talks, we're doomed. We need to make sure he doesn't say a word to anyone."
Lancel's face paled further. "Are you suggesting...?"
Cersei didn't answer immediately, her mind still racing. Finally, she turned to Lancel, her expression cold and determined. "We need to make sure he stays quiet. If that means silencing him permanently, then so be it."
—
As Cersei and Lancel made their way through the halls of Winterfell, their movements were quick and calculated. Cersei's mind was already formulating a plan, one that would ensure their secret remained hidden.
Cersei stopped Lancel before they reached Bran's room. "Listen to me, Lancel. You will make sure that the doesn't have a chance to speak to anyone about what he saw."
Lancel nodded, his face still pale but his resolve firming. "Yes, my queen."
Cersei gave him one last piercing look. "Remember, our lives depend on this."
As Lancel hurried off to carry out her orders, Cersei took a deep breath, steeling herself for what lay ahead. The stakes had never been higher, and she knew she couldn't afford any mistakes. Not now, not ever.
—-
Lancel crept into Bran's room, his footsteps soft and deliberate against the stone floor. The flickering torchlight cast dancing shadows across the chamber, adding an eerie atmosphere to the scene. Bran lay asleep in his bed, completely unaware of the danger lurking nearby.
As Lancel approached the bed, his hand tightened around the hilt of his dagger, his resolve steeling as he prepared to carry out Cersei's orders. Just as he raised the blade, a voice sliced through the silence, freezing him in his tracks.
"Stop right there!" The voice was sharp and commanding, filled with authority.
Startled, Lancel spun around, his heart pounding in his chest as he found himself face to face with the concealed figures of Robb, Jon, Dany, and Harry. His breath caught in his throat as he realized he had been caught in the act.
Robb stepped forward, his expression a mixture of anger and disbelief. "What do you think you're doing, Lancel?"
Caught off guard, Lancel's mind raced for an explanation, his hand instinctively tightening around the dagger. "I... I was just..." he stammered, his voice faltering under the weight of their accusing stares.
Jon's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Just what, Lancel? Planning to kill Bran?"
Before Lancel could respond, Harry's voice cut through the tension like a whip. "Drop the dagger, Lancel. Now."
Lancel was brought before Eddard Stark, who sat at his desk, his expression grave. The room was somber, the gravity of the situation hanging heavy in the air.
Lord Stark regarded Lancel with a steely gaze. "What were you doing in my son's room, Lancel?"
Lancel swallowed hard, his nerves on edge as he struggled to find an explanation. "I... I was..." he began, but the words caught in his throat, the weight of his actions pressing down on him like a vice.
—
Ser Rodrik Cassel, Jory Cassel, and Vayon Poole were quickly briefed on the situation unfolding in Bran's room. With grim determination, they joined the group as they made their way through the corridors of Winterfell, their footsteps echoing against the stone walls.
Robb and Jon, their expressions hardened with resolve, dragged Lancel along by the hand, his movements reluctant and subdued. The weight of his betrayal hung heavy in the air, casting a pall over the group as they marched towards the king's chamber.
As they entered the king's chamber, the atmosphere was tense with anticipation. Eddard Stark stood at the head of the room, his expression stoic as he awaited their arrival. The king, seated upon his throne, regarded them with a mix of curiosity and suspicion.
Lord Stark stepped forward, his voice commanding attention. "Your Grace, we have apprehended Lancel Lannister in the act of attempting to harm my son, Bran."
King Robert's brow furrowed in disbelief. "Lancel? What in the Seven Hells is going on here?"
—
Robb and Jon stepped forward, their voices steady and unwavering as they recounted the events that had transpired in Bran's room. The king listened intently, his expression darkening with each passing moment.
As the truth of Lancel's betrayal became clear, King Robert's face contorted with rage. "You would dare to harm an innocent child?" he bellowed, his voice thundering through the chamber.
Lancel cowered before the king, his shoulders hunched and his gaze fixed on the ground. The air in the chamber was heavy with tension as Eddard Stark stepped forward, his voice steady as he addressed King Robert.
"Your Grace," Lord Stark began, his tone solemn, "there is something else. Bran... Bran saw something he shouldn't have. Something that concerns the Lannisters."
King Robert's brow furrowed in concern, his gaze shifting from Lancel to Lord Stark. "What did the boy see?" he demanded, his voice tense with anticipation.
Lord Stark hesitated for a moment, his brow furrowing as he weighed his words carefully. The air in the chamber grew thick with tension, every eye fixed on him, awaiting his revelation.
"He saw Cersei and Lancel... together," Lord Stark finally admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. The words hung in the air like a heavy fog, casting a pall over the room.
King Robert's expression darkened, his features contorted with disbelief and anger. "Cersei and Lancel?" he repeated, his voice laced with fury. "Is this true?"
Lord Stark nodded solemnly, his gaze never leaving the king's face. "Yes, Your Grace," he confirmed, his voice steady despite the weight of his words. "Bran witnessed them in the act."
A heavy silence settled over the chamber, thick with tension and anticipation. King Robert's labored breaths echoed in the stillness, his features twisted with a mixture of disbelief and fury at the revelation of Cersei's infidelity.
"Ser Barristan!" King Robert bellows.
In the corner of the room, Ser Barristan Selmy stood silent and watchful, his presence a stalwart beacon of loyalty amidst the chaos. As the king's voice thundered through the chamber, commanding and authoritative, Ser Barristan stepped forward, his eyes meeting the king's with unwavering resolve.
King Robert's gaze bore into Ser Barristan, his voice a thunderous roar that reverberated off the stone walls. "Bring her," he commanded, his words laced with a fury born of betrayal and heartache. "Bring my whore wife to the great hall. We have a trial to attend to."
Ser Barristan nodded solemnly, his face a mask of determination as he turned to carry out the king's command. With purposeful strides, he left the chamber, his thoughts consumed by the weight of the task before him.
As the tension in the room thickened, King Robert turned to Eddard Stark, his expression grave. "Secure all the Lannisters present," he ordered, his voice low and urgent. "This will only get more complicated if we don't."
Ned nodded in understanding, his mind already racing with plans to ensure the safety and stability of Winterfell in the tumultuous days ahead.
King Robert's gaze bore into Harry, his eyes piercing and intense, as he posed the question that hung heavy in the air. "Can you handle the Kingslayer once again?" he asked, his voice laden with expectation and urgency.
Harry met the king's gaze with unwavering determination, his mind already racing with strategies and contingencies. "I will do whatever is necessary, Your Grace," he replied, his voice steady and resolute.
Robert nodded in acknowledgment, a grim satisfaction etched upon his features. "Good," he muttered, his tone heavy with the weight of impending conflict. "Because Cersei will most likely invoke 'Trial by Combat,' with Jaime being her champion."
As the reality of Cersei's likely course of action settled upon them, the group braced themselves for the trials that lay ahead. The prospect of facing Jaime Lannister in combat filled them with a mixture of dread and determination, knowing that the outcome of the trial would have far-reaching consequences for the future of the realm.
In the heart of Winterfell, amidst the whispered murmurs of intrigue and the resolute determination of its inhabitants, the stage was set for a confrontation that would test the limits of loyalty and honor, and reshape the destiny of the Seven Kingdoms forever.
---
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