Chapter 21: Direwolves

King Robert Baratheon never really expected a grand welcome back to King's Landing every time he went hunting, the Sack of King's Landing had seen to that. Even so, he expected more than for all the citizens of the city to be hiding away. He led the group up Aegon's High Hill and towards the Red Keep, and what met him as he neared his castle shocked him to his core. Up high on Traitor's Walk was the head of his foster Father, his Hand of the King, Jon Arryn.

"Ser Barristan." He called his Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. "Tell me I'm seeing things."

Ser Barristan couldn't. "To arms." He called, and the 5 Kingsguard that he had taken with him all unsheathed their blades. Robert dismounted, bringing his own sword out of its sheath and he walked through the main gates.

He was greeted by Lord Baelish, who was deep in discussion with Janos Slynt, the commander of the Gold Cloaks. Baelish noticed him storm in flanked by his Kingsguard, and quickly turned to face him. "Your Grace…"

"What the FUCK has happened here, Littlefinger?" Robert bellowed. "I've been gone two days. Two fucking days!"

"Well… that's just it. We don't know." Baelish admitted. "As soon as you left Lord Arryn's men and the Queen's men just started battling in the Red Keep. Corridors were drenched with blood. It took the Gold Cloaks marching in to put a stop to the violence."

"And why is Jon Arryn's head on a SHITTING SPIKE?" Robert screamed, saliva flying from his mouth.

Littlefinger placed his hands together almost apologetically. "I did send somebody to take that down. Honestly Your Grace I'm as perplexed as you are. The Tower of the Hand is closed off by Lord Arryn's men and they aren't letting anybody in. Lady Arryn has vanished, presumed dead and the Queen, the Kingslayer and the Princes and Princess have all disappeared too, in fear of their lives."

Robert was fuming. Not knowing what to think, he stormed past Baelish and thundered towards the Tower of the Hand. There were dozens of Arryn men standing off with Gold Cloaks, but all of them moved aside once the King arrived on the scene. He shoved past the men at the gates and stomped up to Jon's rooms. He looked around, feeling the tears and the anger in his eyes. Wiping the tears away, he turned to Barristan who followed him in. "Secure the corridor. Nobody in or out until I figure out what the fuck to do."

Barristan bowed and shut the door behind him, meaning that Robert could finally let his emotions go. He clenched his fists together before slamming them down on the main table, smashing it in two with the force. He then picked up one of the remnants and threw it against the wall with a roar.

His face was red and his eyes stinging from the tears, and he walked through the room looking for more things to smash. He came into Jon's bedroom expecting some breakable objects when he saw a letter propped up against the pillows. He went over to it and picked it up, seeing his name written above four seals. Ned's, Jon's, Stannis' and Renly's. Intrigued he sat down on the bed, breaking them all and unravelling the parchment.

Robert,

If you are reading this then it means the worst has happened and I haven't lived long enough to be able to tell you the truth in person. Do not mourn for me, my son, as you have much bigger things to worry about than the death of an old man.

We have been deceived. I can only beg for your forgiveness that I didn't see it sooner, that I didn't stop it sooner. I must also ask that you forgive me for making you marry Cersei in the first place when you were adamant against it. The woman is a traitor, a cuckolder. She committed incest in the bed of King's and passed off the Kingslayer's spawn as your own. I do not make these claims lightly my boy, both myself and Stannis worked tirelessly towards the end of my life to prove these facts true. Your promiscuous activities have proven to be fruitful, and a number of your bastards have given us the proof we need. The seed is strong, my old friend. Every Baratheon to have lived has produced offspring black of hair and blue of eye. Every single one of your bastard children are the same, along with every Baratheon Lannister union in history.

I am so sorry I could not be there to tell you this in person, but do not wallow or it will be your doom. You are amongst more traitors than just the Lannisters, Robert. Littlefinger has been stealing off of us and is up to something that only the Seven can work out. Varys has always had too many secrets and Pycelle… well I don't need to warn you about him.

Go North to Ned, who knows as much, if not more than I do. Get as far away from this city as you can until you have an army larger than that of the Rebellion. You have not had a happy Kingship, but now is the time to show the realm why we chose you. Why I chose you.

We have had our troubles, but I will forever be grateful for your Father allowing me to foster you. You have been a true son to me, Robert.

With all my love and loyalty,

Jon Arryn, Hand of the King.

He sat there for what must have been over an hour, reading and rereading the words until they were seared into his brain. Treason, incest, bastards, Ned. It came back to Ned.

"BARRISTAN!" Robert roared. A moment later the old knight himself was in the room.

"Your Grace."

Robert thrust the letter into his hands. "Read." He commanded.

Barristan did as he was ordered, and he couldn't help the gasps. "Treason… I can't believe it."

"Under my own nose." Robert growled. "That wanton WHORE!"

Barristan was downcast. "I should have seen something Your Grace… he was my sworn brother."

Robert shook his head. "No longer, his life is forfeit. As is hers." He took back the paper and placed it in a pocket in his clothing. "Prep the Kingsguard and my own household knights only, and don't tell anybody else a single thing. We ride North as soon as everybody is ready. I must have words with Ned Stark."

Torrhen didn't realise that it was the day until Theon had come to find him to tell him to saddle his horse. Realisation set in immediately, and he quickly bade Sansa farewell before he went to prepare his jet black destrier, who he had amusingly named Obsidian.

The party rode through the Wolfswood to the execution block that had sat there for thousands of years, and Torrhen watched on in silence as deja vu kicked in for the first time in a couple of years. The same member of the Night's Watch was babbling about the White Walker's, and Ned gave him his final rites before swinging Ice and severing the man's head.

"Burn the body." Ned ordered one of the guardsmen, before handing Ice back to Theon and joining his sons and Jon by their horses.

"It seems pointless, executing a man when we need everyone we can possibly get for this fight." Torrhen noted.

"He swore an oath." Ned explained. "And he was to be of no use to us, the poor boy was maddened."

"He saw them." Torrhen said. "I never took any notice of it before, but it's obvious now."

Ned just nodded. "Mount up, let's get back by mid-afternoon."

Torrhen did as he asked, but he could barely contain himself as they rode back through the Wolfswood. Even as they saw the dead stag in the road, he was excitable. He dismounted and waited as Ned inspected the dead animal, looking at Torrhen as he did so. Torrhen just nodded the once and led the group down the path towards the stream where the dead mother direwolf lay, the antler in her throat once more and her babes were suckling at her teats.

"It's a freak!" Theon complained.

"It's a direwolf." Ned explained. "Tough old beast." He strained as he pulled the antler out.

Robb was concerned. "There are no direwolves south of the Wall."

"Now there are 7." Jon commented, picking up Summer.

Torrhen knelt down before the carcass, eyeing up the jet black direwolf, his own direwolf, Balerion. The baby direwolf stopped suckling and turned to face Torrhen. "Hello old friend." Torrhen whispered, emotion filling him. He held out his gloved hand and let Balerion sniff him, before the baby jumped up into his arms.

"It's a sign from the Gods." Ned told them all. "7 direwolves, 7 Stark children."

"Seven?" Torrhen asked, having not listened to Jon beforehand. There had only been 6 last time. But there, closest to the dead mother's belly was a direwolf with bright red fur. "Of course… Sara." He whispered.

Robb looked at Torrhen oddly, before he too knelt down and picked out Grey Wind. "Is this him?" He whispered to Torrhen so nobody else could hear. Torrhen just nodded. Robb smirked. "I feel this one in my mind." He said louder. "This one is mine."

"Are we sure we should let them live?" Jory asked Ned.

Ned just nodded. "Look at them, the connection is clear and we've only just come across them." He threw the antler down on the ground. "Take the pups and keep them warm, the children can choose their wolves when we get back."

Torrhen grabbed Lady too and walked back up to his horse, placing them both in his satchel with their heads poking out. He mounted up once more to see Robb had Grey Wind and Shaggydog, while Ned had taken Nymeria and Summer. Jon was the last to reach the road again, and Torrhen grinned as he held Ghost in his arms alongside the red pup. Torrhen looked down at Balerion once more, who was watching Torrhen with a cocked head, and the Stark boy just grinned, kicking his horse into movement as he raced back to Winterfell.

Once he arrived into the castle Torrhen took his satchel and sprinted towards Sansa's room. He did their knock, rapping five times on the door. He waited until he heard the three knocks from Sansa, and the door swung open.

"What are you doing here?" She asked him.

"I've got a present for you." He smirked.

Sansa didn't look amused. "I'm in the middle of making a dress for Jeyne, Tor. I don't have time for you to throw mud in my face or whatever it is you have planned."

Torrhen pouted. "Would I really be so cruel?"

Sansa looked at him pointedly. "Yes."

Chuckling, Torrhen reached behind him. "I promise it's a good gift." He insisted, bringing Lady around.

Sansa instantly melted. "Aww a puppy!" She squealed.

"A direwolf." Torrhen corrected as he handed over the creature. "We found seven on the road. This one is yours. Her name is Lady."

Sansa held Lady up to her face. "Hello Lady." She cooed. "A perfect name for a perfect direwolf."

Torrhen brought Balerion out of the satchel too and sat him down on the floor. "Mine is Balerion." He told her.

"Of course you'd name a wolf after a dragon." Sansa rolled her eyes. "Are they really ours?"

"Aye, we've all got one, even little Sara." Torrhen grinned. "We must look after them ourselves though, no help from Farlen."

Sansa placed Lady on the bed, and the direwolf sat up straight. "She's so good!"

"Takes after her mistress." Torrhen noted. Balerion jumped up on the bed too and nudged Lady over, and the two began playfighting.

"As does Balerion it seems." Sansa said with a chuckle. She moved to hug Torrhen. "Thank you, I love her!"

Torrhen grinned, hugging his twin back before settling down on the bed as he began to explain exactly how they found the direwolves.

While Torrhen was giving Lady to Sansa, Ned watched as Jon immediately handed the red pup to Robb before taking off for the crypts. Sighing, he knew that he had to speak to Jon about their last conversation and handed the two pups that he had carried into the castle over to Robb. "See that Arya and Rickon get their wolves and understand their responsibilities."

Robb nodded, looking over at the retreating Jon. "He will be ok, won't he?"

Ned nodded, though his smile was an uneasy one. "It's a big shock. I lied to him his entire life."

"To keep him safe." Robb said pointedly. "He knows that deep down."

Ned gripped Robb's shoulder and nodded, before he turned to follow Jon down to the crypts. The younger man was sat by Lyanna's tomb, stroking the calm albino direwolf as he looked up at the statue.

"I don't know what to think." Jon admitted, hearing Ned's slowing footsteps.

"Explain it all then." Ned suggested. "Everything you're feeling."

Jon sighed. "Anger. I feel so angry that it was kept from me, that for so long I thought I was a stain on your honour, that Lady Catelyn rightfully hated me. I felt angry that you would never talk to me about my Mother, that you dismissed me almost. But I feel sadness too, sad that my Mother is dead, sad for you that every time you see me you must see her."

"I do." Ned admitted. Now was the time for complete honesty. "But I see it in Arya too. They are so alike it scares me sometimes. But you, while you look like Lyanna, you act more like him."

"Like Rhaegar?" Jon asked. "My… sire." He couldn't bring himself to say the title for a man he didn't know."

"He brooded like you I am told." Ned chuckled lightly. "He was a fine swordsman too. But your movements, the way you hold yourself despite everything you've felt all your life, that's Rhaegar."

"He's not my Father." Jon said adamantly. Ned went to say something, but Jon stopped him. "I know he is really, but he's not at the same time." Jon stood up, facing Ned. "I may still feel angry that you kept it from me, but I understand why."

"I lost her." Ned said weakly. "I wasn't going to lose you too. You may not be my son, Jon, but you are my blood."

"And you are my Father." Jon told Ned. "Now and always. You raised me as your own when you didn't have to. I owe you my life."

"You owe me nothing." Ned insisted. "I am truly sorry, Jon."

Jon smiled. "I know."

They both stared back at the statue for what seemed like an age, until Ned needed to ask the question on his mind. "Have you decided what you are going to do?"

Jon nodded. "I have. It is so tempting to stay here, to look after Rickon and the girls. But I'm not needed here, am I?"

Ned shook his head with a smile. "I'd love nothing more than for you to come with me, but I took you in to keep you from Robert. To march down South after everything…"

"It seems detrimental to your choices over the years." Jon finished. "No, I shall go where I am needed. Where I can be both Jon Snow and the son of Lyanna Stark. I'll travel to Pentos and protect my aunt."

Ned smiled, gripping Jon on the shoulder as a mark of respect. "You're a braver man than I, Jon."

"I doubt that." Jon laughed, before sighing. "Why do you care if she lives though? If you know where she is, shouldn't you have told the King?"

"I should have." Ned admitted. "But then I think of you, knowing that they are your family. I think of Aegon and Rhaenys' bodies and I feel ill. The one thing Robert and I would never agree on was that the sins of the Fathers were not the sins of the children. If I told him where they were he would give them painful, painful deaths and I couldn't have that on my conscience."

Jon was thankful for that. "I'm oddly excited, is that normal?"

"Of course it is." Ned chuckled. "While we will always be your family, so will the Targaryen's across the sea. Go and know them, go and have incredible adventures. Just be sure to be back here when the true war starts."

"I will, Father." Jon promised, staring back at his Mother's statue. "I will."

"What does the letter say?"

Edmure Tully was furious. The letter from King's Landing signed by Littlefinger was as brief as anything that he had ever read in his life. His uncle, Ser Brynden read it out again as Edmure paced in the main hall of Riverrun. "Lord Tully, I regret to inform you that Lord Jon and Lady Lysa was murdered by Lannister forces in a skirmish in the Red Keep."

"Murdered." Edmure growled. "How? How has she been murdered?"

"Edmure!" The Blackfish raised his voice, snapping the younger man's attention to him. "Calm yourself. You are the acting Lord of Riverrun now, rationalise your thoughts."

Hoster Tully was bed ridden and weak, so Edmure as expected had risen up to the challenge of taking over until his Father improved. "Why is Littlefinger writing to us?" He asked, still in his rage. "Why not Pycelle? Or Robert himself. His Hand is dead! Where is he?"

"Likely dealing with the aftermath." The Blackfish countered. "The question isn't where is he. It is what are you going to do?"

Edmure huffed angrily, pounding the stone walls. "This cannot go unanswered." He insisted.

"No, it cannot." The Blackfish encouraged.

"Cat's boy, Torrhen." Edmure remembered. "He warned us about war. He said that Ned Stark was preparing."

"As have we." The Blackfish added. "You have a son now, an heir."

Edmure nodded, thinking on little Axel Tully. "Vyman!" He called.

The elderly Maester was in the corner of the room waiting to be called upon, and he moved closer to the two Tully's when he was called. "Lord Edmure?"

"Send word to Lords Vance and Piper. Have them gather their forces on the border close to the Golden Tooth. Have Lord Smallwood join them. And call the rest of the banners to Riverrun."

"All of them, My Lord?" Vyman asked.

Edmure nodded. "The Lannisters insult us by murdering my sister. Lord Stark may be gathering men, but it will take them time to get to where they are needed. We will answer this insult with Lannister blood." He looked to his uncle, who just nodded once in acceptance. The heir to Riverrun looked up at his Father's chair, seeing the Valyrian Steel blade hanging up above it. It had been placed up there after Torrhen had left the Riverlands and hadn't been touched since. Edmure strode up to the sword and took it down, holding the intricate silver hilt and running his fingers over both the sapphire in its pommel and the scaled trout that was the cross guard. He attached the sheathed sword to his belt and turned to face his uncle. "For family."

"For family." Ser Brynden smirked.

The news also reached Dragonstone fairly quickly, where Stannis and Renly sat alone in the Chamber of the Painted Table to discuss their options.

"We need to tell Robert everything." Renly insisted. "It would be better coming from us. Let's head to King's Landing now and explain…"

"Robert won't be in King's Landing." Stannis told his brother. "He'll ride up North to be with the only man he trusts."

"Then what do we do?" Renly threw his hands up in exasperation. "We have the Royal Fleet. Let's sail in and secure King's Landing."

Stannis was growing impatient. He threw the letter in front of Renly. "Read that again. If Robert doesn't trust King's Landing what is my small army going to do?"

"We can't do nothing." Renly spat back.

"We won't." Stannis said, standing up and staring intently at the Blackwater Bay part of the table. "Ned Stark has his army gathering. Hoster Tully will call the banners for his daughter and the Vale will want justice too. They will take the war into the West. What we need, is an army in the South." He placed a stag symbol onto Storm's End. "We sail for home, Renly. We gather your banners and then we march up the King's Road and we root out everybody that Robert doesn't trust. Smallfolk to Small Council members, we ensure that none of them can betray our brother."

"We should go now." Renly said stubbornly.

"Tywin Lannister was Hand of the King for 20 years." Stannis explained. "Do you really think he just packed up and left without ensuring he had people there to see out his interests? If we go and just take over after Robert left for a reason, then you're a greater fool than I took you for."

Renly shoved his seat back roughly and stood up, glaring. "Have care, Stannis."

"Sit down. I'm explaining." Stannis said, not impressed by the show. "Pycelle is a Lannister man. Littlefinger works only for Littlefinger. Varys is a mystery. It would be up to us and probably 2,000 men against whoever Tywin Lannister can bribe, be that a dagger in the dark or all of the sellsword companies in Essos. No, I will not risk a Baratheon life unless we have the men to take and defend the city against whomever comes for us. Let them rot for now. We go for Storm's End and rally the Stormlands, and then we take the city back."

"Then what?" Renly asked. Stannis looked at him questioningly. "We take the city, do Robert's dirty work for him and then what?"

"We find Robert a new wife." Stannis presumed.

Renly smirked. "I know just the woman."

"No." Stannis said quickly.

"She's perfect for him!"

"She's a Tyrell." Stannis snapped. "They tried to starve us, Renly. They feasted outside our walls while we licked leather!"

Renly stared at his brother and spoke calmly. "They did what they were bid by their King, as we did as bid by ours. It was 20 years ago, Stannis. Margaery isn't her Father. She comes from a wealthy family that will inevitably be one of the most powerful in the realm after this war. It makes sense."

The worst thing about it was Stannis knew he was right. He sat back down in his seat and put his face in his hands. "Fine." He said through gritted teeth. "Send the raven."

Renly grinned, clapping his hands together. "I knew you'd come around eventually, brother!"

"I'm going to regret this." Stannis groaned. "Send the raven and then prepare yourself. We leave for Storm's End at dawn."