Chapter 20: Winter is Coming

There was a balcony on one of the higher levels of Maegor's Holdfast that had an excellent view of the main road that connected the Red Keep to the rest of the city, and it was the one that Cersei Lannister and her twin brother Jaime were staring out of as they watched at least 200 Knights of the Vale ride into the castle. Jaime was just impressed with the formation, while Cersei was more concerned about the ulterior motives behind such a move.

"He's planning something." She said to Jaime.

Jaime just smirked. "He's planning to take his mad trout of a wife away. I'm sure even you have heard her screaming from her chambers, asking every servant under the sun to bring her Ned Stark's head."

Cersei looked up at Jaime unamused. "Be serious. When has Jon Arryn ever needed this many men?"

"Women can be extremely feisty when they want to be." Jaime shrugged, before leaning in and whispering into her ear. "After all, I still have the scratches from last week."

Cersei slapped him on the chest. "Not here." She said sternly. "What if Arryn knows something?"

"He's an old man." Jaime shrugged.

"He's Robert's closest confidant, besides his whores." Cersei said sharply, glaring at Jaime. "If he knows…"

"He doesn't know." Jaime said quickly. "If he did, he wouldn't be alive to tell anybody."

Cersei shook her head. "Something isn't right, Jaime." She said, emotion getting to her. "Ned Stark coming here, Stannis and Renly leaving in the dead of night without a word, now this many soldiers… I'm worried for my children."

Jaime sighed, and placed a hand caressingly on her shoulder. "I promise, nothing is wrong." He told her. "But if it makes you feel any better, I'll guard you and the children personally. If anybody tries anything because of what they think they know…" He grabbed her wrist and put her hand against the hilt of his sword. "Then they shall taste my steel."

Cersei smiled, the words reassuring her. "Thank you." She whispered, taking his hand and squeezing to show she meant it.

While the White Harbour levies had marched directly to Moat Cailin Ned, Jon and Torrhen along with Robin Arryn had all ridden directly for Winterfell. They were slowed down slightly by the heir to the Vale's inability to ride, and so Torrhen was extremely relieved to see the towers of Winterfell surrounded by tents.

"How many do you think there are?" Jon asked, in awe.

"18,000." Torrhen said after a quick count.

Ned turned around to look at Torrhen with an impressed look on his face. "Good eyes." He noted. "It looks like the Karstarks are here too. Good."

He jeered his horse into a gallop, as the small group raced down towards the castle. They made the obligatory greetings as they arrived in the courtyard, and Ned quickly called a gathering of the Lords and commanders. Robb, Torrhen and Jon were stood to the side, listening in.

"My Lords." Ned greeted them all from the high table. "The time is here. Very soon King's Landing shall call upon us to march our banners South and into the Westerlands. I would have us ready. Already Lord Manderly and Lady Dustin have amassed their men at Moat Cailin, and as soon as we are able I would have us do the same. Lord Umber."

The Greatjon perked up at hearing his name. "Aye."

"You will lead the march down to the Moat, but you will be there to guide him. Take three quarters of the men gathered and set up on the Causeway."

The Greatjon grinned and nodded his agreement. "I'll have us there in no time."

A few more logistical orders were given, and soon enough it was just Ned and the young Starks in the Great Hall of Winterfell. Robb broke the silence first. "What are we to do?"

Ned straightened himself. "I need to stay here and finalise some things before I march, but as soon as we hear word from Jon Arryn in King's Landing we will group with the others and march down."

"All of us?" Jon asked.

Ned took a deep breath and shook his head. "No. Robb and Torrhen shall join me."

Jon gritted his teeth and clenched his fists, but he nodded his head. Torrhen just looked pointedly at Ned, who looked almost heartbroken. Breaking the silence, Torrhen clapped his hands together. "Well then, I guess we should get down and train Robb."

Robb noticed the tension in the air too and led Torrhen out of the room. They closed the door behind them, and Robb whispered almost immediately. "What's going on?"

"Father is going to tell him." Was all Torrhen could say. "Jon is finally going to know who he is."

It was time. King Robert had ridden out with most of his Kingsguard towards the Kingswood for a two-day hunt, and only Ser Jaime and Ser Meryn had been left behind in the Red Keep to guard the King's family. His absence however gave Jon Arryn the opportunity that they needed. As soon as he heard the hooves fade away he sat down at his desk and pulled out a letter from one of the drawers. It had four seals on the letter, the direwolf of House Stark, two stags of House Baratheon and the falcon and moon of House Arryn, Jon's own seal.

Setting the letter down on Jon's own bed with the seals facing upwards, he sighed before calling for his new squire, and waited patiently as the boy helped him into his armour for the first time since the battle at the Trident against Rhaegar Targaryen. He strapped his own sword onto his hip though, hoping that he wouldn't be forced to embarrass himself with it.

He left his chambers and saw one of his guards. "Roland." He greeted. "Are we ready?"

"We are, Lord Hand." The man nodded.

"Good." Jon said firmly. "Nobody exits or enters this tower unless they are either myself or the King himself. Not the Queen, not the Princes, not Lady Arryn, not even a serving girl. You are in a siege now."

"Yes, Lord Arryn." The dozen others in the small corridor chanted. Jon smiled grimly before making his way slowly down the steps to where his new soldiers had gathered.

"You all have your tasks." He called out. "See to them." Men in large groups darted off to different areas of the castle. Some to secure the armoury, some to secure the stables, some to ensure the Small Council stayed where they were and to subdue the Lannister soldiers roaming around the castle. Jon was left with around 20 of his finest men, Ser Vardis Egen at the front.

"Ser Vardis." Jon greeted.

"Lord Arryn. We are ready." The loyal knight bowed his head.

Jon nodded once. "Good, let us get this over with."

The elderly Lord let the way towards Maegor's holdfast with his men marching behind him. He ignored the stares of the servants, and thankfully the Baratheon guards knew him by face and let him be.

The lack of resistance ended as they got to the corridor outside of the Queen's chambers, where 5 men all in Lannister armour were standing. The captain, Vylarr, was the first to notice the armed Arryn forces arrival. "Lord Hand." The Westerlander greeted. "This is unexpected."

"Stand aside, Vylarr." Jon said firmly. "We don't need innocent blood spilled."

The other 4 Lannister men had surrounded Vylarr suspiciously, their hands on their sword hilts. "What is the meaning of this?" The Lannister man asked.

"The Queen is under arrest, Ser." Jon replied sternly. "I say again, stand aside."

"Under what charges?" Vylarr asked, his own hand on his sword hilt.

Jon listed them off. "Adultery, treason, incest."

"Lies." Vylarr scowled, unsheathing his blade. In a matter of a second the other Lannister men had their blades out, and a second after that the only man in the corridor to still have his weapon in his sheath was Jon. "Turn around, Lord Hand, and we'll forget all about this."

Jon just sighed, defeated. "I'm sorry, Vylarr. You deserve better than this." He turned to Ser Vardis. "Do it."

The Knight's of the Vale charged past Jon, as the Lannister men charged too. Swords clashed quickly as red liquid began to splatter against the walls and pool on the floor. Jon grimaced at the cries of the dying, but in a matter of moments it was done, and 12 men lay dead on the ground. The remaining 8 Valemen then charged through the door to find Jaime Lannister sat alone in his full Kingsguard armour and a sword across his lap.

"Lord Arryn." He said slowly. "This is most peculiar.

"Where is the Queen, Kingslayer?" Jon asked impatiently.

Jaime smirked, and scoffed a laugh. "And why would I tell you that?"

"It is your duty to the King you serve." Jon told the Lannister.

Jaime outright laughed at that. "The King I serve? That fat drunken monster? Come now, Lord Arryn. If you really know the truth as you believed it outside, you should know that I don't really serve King Robert, the First of his Name."

"No." Jon shook his head. "You serve your sister, or is she your lover?"

Jaime stood up, a wide grin on his face that didn't reach the rage in his green eyes. "You tell me."

"Take him alive." Jon ordered. Ser Vardis was the first one to reach Jaime, although he only lasted two clashes of the sword before his throat was opened and he choked on his own blood. The next two Valemen lasted even less time, with Jaime dodging the blows towards him as he stabbed the first one in the face with his sword, before pulling out a dagger with his left hand and thrusting it underneath the others chin. He withdrew both blades at the same time and waited for the men to drop to the floor with a thud, before shrugging at Jon.

The Arryn Lord withdrew his own sword, shaking slightly at the weight of it. In that time Jaime had decapitated another one of his men, before getting a scratch on his face at the hands of the fourth to face him. That just enraged him, as the Lannister swordsman carved through Jon's other guards like a hot knife through butter.

It hadn't gone to plan at all. Jon had planned on Jaime being away from Cersei and capturing the Queen and the children quickly before subduing Jaime on his own. Now all of his men were dead, and he was the only one left. Holding his sword out with both hands, He swung clumsily, old age having caught up with him. Jaime toyed with the old man, parrying the blow away. "You're weak, Lord Arryn."

"I've fought in many a war, Ser Jaime." Jon said sternly, swinging again and being parried again. "The Peake Uprising, the fourth and fifth Blackfyre Rebellions, the Rebellion." Jon swung again, with more power behind it and he almost surprised Jaime. "And I survived every one of them."

Jaime parried another blow and snarled, and with sheer pace he snapped his wrist downwards, disarming Jon Arryn before he plunged his sword deep into the elderly Lord's chest. Jon Arryn gasped, his hands coming to the blade deep in his body. Jaime leaned into Jon's ear, and just whispered. "Until me."

The Kingsguard knight pulled his sword out of Jon's torso and sheathed it once more, before he walked back into Cersei's chambers and pulled a candle sconce. Jon could only watch, blood filling his mouth, as the wall opened to reveal Cersei and the three young children. Jon held his hand out towards them. "Traitors." He whispered, his voice weak, before his breath left him and his hand slumped to the floor lifelessly.

The tunnels in between the walls of the Red Keep really weren't very wide. Sandor Clegane, Joffrey's sworn sword, led the way away from the room with all the dead Arryn's inside, and Jaime made up the rear, protecting them in case they were followed.

"Hurry up!" The Lannister male insisted through gritted teeth.

"Where are we going?" Cersei hissed in front of him.

Jaime rolled his eyes. "We have to get away from here, Cersei. You heard him, you heard what he wanted to arrest you for."

"But he's dead." Cersei had stopped and faced Jaime. "Why are we leaving?"

Jaime placed his hands roughly on her shoulders. "Jon Arryn is dead, in your chambers. The King's surrogate Father is dead. In YOUR chambers. What is Robert going to think of that?"

"We can tell him anything." Cersei insisted.

"Cersei." Jaime said exasperatedly. "Jon Arryn had hundreds of men in the castle. Do you really think none of them know why they are here? If we stay, we die. We'll go to Casterly Rock and regroup there. Father will know what to do."

"I'm the Prince!" Joffrey exclaimed from in front of them. "I can't leave!"

"You'll do as you're told." Clegane grunted. "Are we just going to stand here or are we going to move?"

Jaime looked at Cersei pleadingly. She seemed hesitant at first, but she soon nodded her head. Jaime breathed a sigh of relief and the party of 6 soon was on the move again.

They came out to a little cove, where a hunchback man with a hood was there waiting for them with a rowboat, an unconscious woman already inside it. Clegane instantly withdrew his sword and growled. "Move the fuck out of the way old man."

"Stand down, Clegane." Jaime ordered. "Varys here is helping us."

The bald eunuch lowered his hood and looked at them all with his creepy smile. "Of course I am, Ser Jaime. Your Grace."

"You." Cersei said harshly. "Why are you helping us?"

Varys looked at the three children. "With what Lord Arryn was planning, noisily, may I add, it was inevitable that the children would be put in harms way. I cannot abide the harm of children, Your Grace."

That warmed Cersei, as she turned to Jaime. "What now?"

"We sail to Rosby." Jaime replied. "From there we will have to travel as smallfolk until we get to the Westerlands. I don't know who we can trust, certainly not the Tyrell's." He turned to the petrified Myrcella and Tommen. "You need to get in the boat now, alright?" Myrcella nodded, grabbing Tommen's hand and stepping into the boat. "You too, Joffrey."

"Why?" Joffrey demanded to know. "Why are we fleeing? I'm to be King here I can't run!"

"Get in the damned boat." Clegane growled, grabbing Joffrey by the collar and flinging him in. Cersei made to complain but Jaime stopped her.

"If you don't want to lose your head, then you'll do as we say." He told both Joffrey and Cersei. His sister huffed but picked up her skirts and sat down next to her eldest. Clegane got in next, picking up the oars, and Jaime turned to Varys. "Thank you." He said.

"I did it for the children, Ser Jaime. Just don't get caught." Varys said warningly.

Jaime just nodded before pushing the boat further into the water so it was floating. He climbed in as well as Sandor began rowing northwards. He watched as Cersei stared at the Red Keep disappearing in the distance wondering if he had made the right decision, a thought that disappeared as soon as he heard the bells begin to ring.

The giant gate creaked loudly as it heaved open to show the party the vast open space that was North of the Wall. Ser Waymar Royce led them; the young man having joined the Night's Watch recently had been chosen to lead his first ranging North of the Wall. In his group was Gared, Will, Artos Flint and Ulmer. Normally he would have only been in command of 2 men, but the known dangers out in the wild were no longer just Wildlings, and so the First Ranger had changed policy.

They were tracking Wildling raiders in the Haunted Forest and had to travel into the large woodland area for a couple of days before they found anything of note. Will, the scout, had ridden off with Ulmer, a man who had once been in the Kingswood Brotherhood and was a skilled archer, while the other three made camp. Gared was keeping watch, and Waymar was rubbing his gloved hands together, trying to keep himself warm.

"You southerners." Artos Flint chuckled. "You would never survive a Northern winter."

Waymar smirked. "At least we have you here to teach us all how to survive, Artos." The Mountain Clansman just grunted as he sharpened his sword, and the only noises that Waymar could hear were the rustling of the leaves, along with a faint thundering of hooves.

Waymar turned to the direction of the noise to see both Will and Ulmer galloping towards them. Gared walked towards Waymar too, and all 5 were soon huddled in a circle.

"M… ma… massacre." Will shivered.

Waymar scoffed. "What do you expect?" He asked. "They're savages. One lot steals a goat from another lot and before you know it, they're ripping each other to pieces."

Will wasn't to be dissuaded, however. "I've never seen Wildlings do a thing like this." He told Waymar. "I've never seen a thing like this, not ever in my life."

"How close did you get?" Waymar asked.

"Close as any man would." Was Will's answer.

Ulmer agreed. "It wasn't natural." He said. "They were all dismembered, laid out in a pattern."

That sent chills down the other men's spines. "We should head back to the Wall." Gared suggested.

Waymar however, heard his Father bemoaning him for a coward in his head. It was his first ranging; he wouldn't run at the first sign of any trouble. "Do the dead frighten you?" He mocked.

"Our orders were to track the Wildlings." Gared responded unamused. "We tracked them. They won't trouble us no more."

"You don't think Stark will ask us how they died?" Royce asked. "Get back on your horse."

Will wasn't having it though, as he moved closer to Waymar and exclaimed. "Whatever did it to them could do it to us! They even killed the children!"

"We know what did it to them." Artos Flint muttered.

Waymar glared at him. "If they exist, they have never been this far South before. More likely it was a pissing contest that turned nasty." He turned back to Will. "We have a job to do. Either get back on your horse or run away. Of course, they will behead you as a deserter if you get caught." Will had no choice, and the 5 of them mounted. The scout let them back to the campsite that he and Ulmer had found the dead bodies, and to their surprise it was empty. Even Waymar was growing more concerned. "Are you sure it was here?" He asked.

"Positive." Will told him, and Ulmer nodded. "They was here." He pointed to a tree. "The girl was hanging there."

All of them had their swords in their hands, and Waymar pulled out the only Dragonglass dagger that the group had been given as he looked around nervously. "Find them, they can't have gone far."

They split up, each walking in a different direction away from the camp. Waymar was relying on all of his training both at Runestone and Castle Black to listen out for any noises. He didn't need to strain though, as a piercing scream came from his left.

Waymar raced towards the scream and bumped into Artos Flint as he ran. Ulmer was soon with them too.

"Who was it?" Flint asked.

"Not Will." Ulmer grunted. "He ran as soon as he heard.

Waymar cursed. "Fucking coward."

"There." Artos Flint pointed behind Waymar, who turned to see the silhouette of Gared in the distance.

Ulmer made a move towards Gared and called his name. "Gared! What are you doing?"

Artos had noticed something on the floor however and knelt down to inspect it. "Royce." He called.

"What?" Waymar asked.

"Blood. Fresh blood." Artos was shaking now as he looked back to Gared.

Waymar realised what he was getting at and looked to see Ulmer nearing the silhouette. "Ulmer get back!"

It was too late though. Gared's head lifted and even from the distance that the other two were, they could see the bright blue eyes. Gared then screamed a monstrous scream, unlike anything that Waymar had ever heard, and raced with a speed that Gared had never before possessed towards Ulmer, who was too shocked to do anything but stand there and have his throat torn out by his now undead brother.

"Fuck!" Artos swore, his sword out in front of him. Waymar raced forwards, swinging his steel sword to sever Gared's arm, before thrusting the Dragonglass dagger into Gared's chest. The body dropped almost suddenly, and Waymar breathed a sigh of relief. He then plunged the dagger into Ulmer's heart, to stop the same from happening to him.

He shouldn't have relaxed however, as the squelch of blood was heard from behind him. Waymar turned quickly to see what could only be described as a demon holding the Northerners head in the air, as his body slumped to the ground. Waymar could only watch on in sheer terror as the demon threw Artos' head towards him.

"Remember your training." Waymar whispered. "Remember your training." He stood up straight and took a deep breath, before charging at the demon with a scream.

It was the last thing that Ser Waymar Royce ever did.