Chapter 59: ASOIAF 2

Young Carl sat in the Godswood with a scowl on his face, looking at the location where his family had fallen apart nearly a year ago. Where his twin and younger sister had chosen to believe in a lying snake over their own brother.

It had taken all his self discipline not to kill the arrogant little boy when Petyr would smugly smile at Carl at the dinner table on a daily basis.

Even his father wouldn't hear a word against the little Baelish brat. He kept claiming that the son of his good friend Lord Baelish couldn't be that bad.

Carl was beginning to suspect that Lord Baelish had taught his despicable son the same kinds of tricks he'd played on Carl's father, to fool them all.

While the rest of his family didn't believe that a young six, now eight year old boy could be so underhanded and sneaky, Carl knew it was more than possible. His own intellect and ability at a young age had proven to him that age was no real indication of skill. He had been incredibly skilled from a young age.

But he had never gone the route of being a sneak thief fooling the people around him into believing his lies of innocence.

Carl punched the nearest tree in frustration, cracking the trunk so the tree leaned dangerously close to falling.

There were so many times over the past year that he wanted to just kill the little sneak. He was sorely tempted. The only thing keeping him from doing so was his family's words. What his family think of him, and what it would do for his family's standing with the other lords. What it would do to their honor when word got out that fostering with the Tully's wasn't safe for other young lords.

That would be a stain on their honor, an impediment to their ability to govern the Riverlands that wouldn't be easily washed away.

Despite his estrangement from his sisters, Carl had made sure that Petyr never had a chance to pull any more of his wooing tricks on his sisters. Even though he was frustrated with them, he wouldn't let them be taken advantage of.

Carl sighed in frustration from where he leaned against the tree he had punched. The fury hadn't departed at all with his expression of anger. If anything it was worse. He still wanted to punch Baelish's head off. Why would his family automatically believe Baelish but not their own blood?

Determined to think about the problem logically, Carl finally managed to push his anger away for the first time in nearly a year. The way he had been going about this problem was all wrong. It wasn't getting solved. He had been too close to the problem, and too hurt, to think about how to solve the problem.

And, he must admit, he had been sulking a bit. Sulking at the fact that his family didn't listen to him. He had been feeling sorry for himself instead of solving the problem.

So now Carl finally sat down and thought over the issue with as detached a mind as he could

After thinking about it for some time, Carl froze in shock as he finally fully realized just how stupid he had been about the whole thing.

He had been reacting emotionally, instead of planning and acting. He had been pouting that his family wouldn't take his side, and was just waiting for them to come to the realization that he knew best.

Instead Carl should have been thinking up plans and methods to expose Baelish's true nature to his family. The only way to solve a hidden sneak and planner like Baelish, aside from straight up killing him, was to use his own kind of sneaky traps against him.

After all, the strategies that Baelish was using were so effective, why not use them against him?

And once his mask was ripped off, once his family truly saw what kind of person Baelish was, they wouldn't fall for his innocent act anymore. Then things could finally return to normal around here.

Carl scowled in frustration. He had already wasted so much time! He needed to work on plans to uncover Baelish's duplicitous nature as soon as possible.

A few weeks later the pounding on the door woke Hoster from his sleep. Grunting in anger at being woken up, he tore open the door and was about to yell at whoever was waking him in the middle of the night when he saw it was his eldest son, Carl.

"And what is it that couldn't wait until morning?" Hoster demanded of his 12 name day old son while noting his focused look.

"Father. There is something you must see this night." Carl said before immediately walking away, only pausing a few steps away to give his father time to join him. Hoster scowled at his son's back, but eventually decided to see what his son was up to. This past several months had been uncomfortable while his son and daughters were estranged and not talking. He could at least give his son the benefit of the doubt and see what his son thought was so important in the middle of the night.

Carl then led his father to a specific room that he had prepared in the castle for this night of revelations.

Over the past few weeks as he made his preparations, Carl had occasionally had some strange dreams. In one of the dreams he learned about a symbol in strange symbol writing. He instinctively knew it meant silence, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out how he knew that.

Inside the room that Carl led his father to, Carl's siblings were already sitting in their chairs. Or rather, they were tied to chairs.

Carl's two sisters and his brother's mouths were open as if they were shouting, but they were completely silent. They were jerking around, trying to free themselves but unable to due to the ropes tying them to chairs.

The unnatural silence the three children were under was an effect of the symbol Carl had carved into their chairs.

Hoster paused as he took in the scene. "Just what are you doing here, Carl?" He asked his eldest boy in a dangerous tone of voice. The oddity and wrongness of the scene put him on edge.

"Giving you proof." Carl replied flatly. "None of you would listen to me, your own family when I told you the true nature of the Baelish brat. You all were fooled by his honeyed words and looks of innocence. So if you'll take your seat, you'll see just what kind of a person he really is." Carl gestured to an empty seat near Carl's siblings for Hoster to sit at. Carl's father remained standing as he glared at Carl, demanding answers.

"My sisters and I haven't been on the best of terms ever since that day, so I had to do something to ensure their attendance. I wouldn't want them to deny what was reported to them later, after all. They need to see it with their own eyes." Carl added a bit of venom to his voice. The betrayal of his sisters still hurt him greatly. "In an old chest I found some books about magic symbols. One of them had the use of putting the immediate area under silence. That way, my sisters won't disturb what they are about to learn with their shouts."

Hoster looked at Catelyn, Lysa, and Edmure. The three seemed fine, aside from not being able to talk and being tied to a chair. He finally, grudgingly sat. He really didn't appreciate his son and heir dictating to him, but he was willing to let him put on the show. If he wasn't satisfied, his son wasn't too old to have his hide tanned.

Once Carl saw his father sit, he opened a particular window looking box on the wall, exposing the room on the other side of the wall to the view of all who were there. In the other room were two figures, a 14-15 year old girl, and the almost 9 year old Petyr Baelish.

Catelyn and Lysa immediately blushed and would have gasped or screamed out loud if it wasn't for the silencing runes on their chairs. Edmure blushed but seemed intrigued by the view of the naked girl who Baelish was having sex with.

Carl smirked at the betrayed faces his sisters were making. Petyr was always so good at acting like a sweet and innocent boy, that seeing him blatantly and lustily having sex ruined the image he had crafted for himself. Especially when Catelyn and Lysa got a good look at the expression on Petyr's face now that he wasn't making any effort to hide who he really was. The greedy and arrogant look wasn't something they had ever been allowed to see on his face before.

Hoster scowled at Carl for showing him a scene of a boy making time with a whore. Everyone did it, it wasn't anything special and it wouldn't make him think differently about Petyr. So far, it was a waste of Hoster's time. Besides, why was Carl exposing his daughters to this sight?

"Give it a moment or two, you'll find you answers." Carl answered the unspoken question Hoster had.

At about that time, Petyr finished up and collapsed on the bed next to the young whore.

The girl propped herself up on her elbow, looking down at the boy. "I still don't know why I'm not enough for you, my little lord." The girl said as she stroked a finger over Petyr's bare chest. "Why do you still give those Tully girls attention? They can't do for you what I do. You know the older one only thinks of you as a brother anyway."

Petyr sarcastically laughed. "Hah. Like a brother. They treat me better than their own brother. I saw to that!" He bragged to the girl.

Carl saw out of the corner of his eye that Catelyn and Lysa flinched at Baelish's words, and looked at Carl in mingled regret and begging for forgiveness. The show wasn't over yet, so Carl didn't acknowledge them for the moment. There would be time enough after everything was revealed to mend fences.

"Tell me your plan again, Petyr. I so love to hear how smart you are. It turns me on so." She purred as she leaned down and kissed him.

"It was my father's plan initially. But I modified it when I got here when I saw how nice the two sisters looked." Petyr grinned. "The stupid Lord Fish thinks my dad saved him that day in the war, which gave us the opening we needed." Petyr didn't disguise his contempt for Hoster, which had the Lord grinding his teeth at being so disrespected.

"The stupid Tully sluts will soon be mine. I've already gotten them in my pocket and estranged them from their pain in the ass brother. I've just got to keep them isolated a bit more, and they will be more than willing to give it up to me. I'll fuck them good and they'll be mine forever. I'll marry Catelyn and become Lord of the Riverlands. Then I'll sell off Lysa to some lord to cement his allegiance, while I keep fucking Lysa behind his back." Petyr bragged.

"Ooh, so manly. Tell me more." The girl moaned as she writhed against Petyr.

"Their older brother will die in some ambush in a months time. No one will ever know who did it. I've already worked on making the younger brother so wishy washy in his decision making, that he'll never be able to inherit, and if he tries, an accident waits for him, too."

"So sexy." The girl moaned even more.

Carl looked at his family. His sisters were crying, tears running down their faces. Edmure had a look of anger on his face. Apparently he was remembering some of the manipulations Petyr had been pulling. And Hoster's face was set in a stoic mask that barely contained his anger.

"But why did you target the Tullys? Wasn't your father friends with Hoster?" The girl asked, since that point hadn't been brought up enough yet. Carl wanted to make sure Hoster knew what the Baelish father and son were like, and didn't try to keep his friendship going with the father.

Petyr laughed loud and sarcastically. "No. He just made use of the situation to get in Hoster's good graces. My father saw that Hoster mistook him for the one who actually saved him, and let him continue thinking that while striking up a friendship, just in case he proved useful. When he learned about the two daughters that Hoster had, he came up with a plan to send me to foster. He taught me all I know about manipulation so I could bag the two girls when they were still too young and naïve to know any better. And I was a very good student of my fathers." He bragged.

Carl's dreams of strange but useful symbols had more than just the one for silence. One that encouraged those under it to speak the truth, and another that encouraged the running of the mouth were placed in the bed, while the young lady was on Carl's payroll to ask those questions and get Petyr talking.

Carl had finally taken a page out of his enemy's book and created the scene he needed, while bringing those who needed to hear it. It was all the better because he was using the truth from the bastard's own mouth to condemn him.

Carl smiled coldly in satisfaction when he saw that his family finally saw Petyr Baelish for what he was. They finally knew the truth that Carl had been right all along about the weasel. He closed the hidden viewing window, which was kept hidden from Baelish by another strange rune, and turned to his family.

"I love you all. I want nothing more than to see you have happy lives. But I find myself very hurt that you couldn't trust me when I told you about Baelish's true nature, and chose him over me. I'm glad that you're finally seeing what's real."

Carl then released his siblings from the ropes, and was about to leave the room when his sisters tackled him in a hug, not willing to let him stalk off in anger like he had been the past year or so.

The apologies and tearful begging for forgiveness finally touched inside his heart that had been so cold for over a year. It cracked through the ice armor he'd been employing, and made him feel again the love of a family. He had missed those feelings greatly over the past year. So he finally started letting go of his anger, in order to reconcile with his family.

He tentatively hugged his sisters back in the first time in a year. It felt awkward at first, but he soon started feeling like it was normal.

'Maybe we can't go back to how it was.' Carl thought as he was being reconciled with his family. 'But at least we can build a close approximation. Family.' Carl thought as he reveled in the feelings and closeness that he thought was long gone. 'And maybe our bond will be stronger for having gotten through this ordeal.' Carl hoped.

The next day Carl answered a summons from his father to the solar. When he arrived, he saw only his father sitting inside. Usually the maester would also be there, to take notes and messages at the least.

"Sit, Carl." Hoster sternly said when he saw his son. "Your…unconventional method of uncovering the truth will not be repeated." Hoster ordered his son. "If you dare to treat your Lord so cavalierly in the future, no matter what age you are, you'll get a tanning you won't soon forget. Am I clear?"

"Yes father." What else could Carl do but agree. He had been a bit high handed with his Lord Father. He let his emotions get the better of him, and wouldn't do that again.

"Now, despite his despicable plans, Baelish didn't actually do anything. As much as I'd like to send Baelish off with a nasty telling off and hiding, or something worse, there are some considerations that I must take into account."

Carl scowled at the thought the brat might get off scot free. Maybe he should have just made the sneak disappear? Hoster continued, breaking Carl's thoughts.

"If word began getting around the lords that I can't even handle fostering one little brat, the next thing we know, we'll be dealing with all kinds of other rumors and troubles from the various lords. The brat hasn't even really done anything yet. So it all would devolve to rumors and hearsay."

Carl thought about it and saw the sense in what his father was saying. Even though Hoster was the Lord Paramount of the Trident, their family was in many ways weaker than the other houses that owed allegiance to House Tully. Their unstable position made it difficult to do many things. They had to be careful in all they did.

Their family had attained the Lordship yeas in the past when Lord Edmyn Tully had led the rebel River Lords who deserted King Harren the Black during Aegon's Conquest back in 1 AC and joined Aegon the Conqueror. Lord Edmyn Tully had been rewarded for his support with dominion over the Riverlands and the title of Lord Paramount of the Trident for his support of King Aegon.

But they hadn't grown as rich or numerous of many of the other lords. Even the fat bastard Frey squatting on the Twins had more money, men, and knights than they did. He was often testing the bounds of what Hoster would put up with from him.

In the 275 years since the Tullys were awarded the title, they had struggled to stay in their position. And because they were the Lord Paramount, they had struggled to ensure the prosperity of the Riverlands, even at the expense of their own family's prosperity at times, due to their commitment to Duty.

When Carl though about it, he found that he didn't think much of the Lords Tully that made those decisions. Family was first before Honor or Duty. So for them to put other Lords and family's benefits before their own family was wrong, in his opinion.

"So what are we going to do with the little bastard?" Carl finally asked.

Hoster sighed. "I'm going to let my brother know about his duplicitous nature and send him off with him. It will get him away from the girls. And your uncle is very strict with anyone not family. Maybe he can beat decency into the boy before he becomes too set in his ways."

Carl frowned. Obviously he wasn't going to get his wish to execute Baelish. At least he would be out of their hair and suffering under their uncle. Uncle Blackfish loved Carl's sisters, and once he was informed of what Baelish had planned for his nieces, the brat wouldn't have any good time being under their uncle.

"Okay, father. As long as Baelish doesn't come along when Uncle Brynden visits." Carl finally allowed. "I don't really care if Baelish does get suspicious of why he's suddenly carted off and not allowed to visit. As long as he doesn't get a chance to sweet talk Catelyn or Lysa around again." Carl replied.

"I'm not so worried about Catelyn. She can get stubborn when she thinks she's right." Carl ruefully said. "So I don't think Baelish will be able to talk her around after what she saw. But Lysa is just too sweet and nice. If he gets the chance to employ that golden tongue of his, she'll likely give him another chance. And if that happens, I'm liable to kill him myself, damn the consequences."

"Agreed, son." Hoster could see that his son was serious too about that promise. Sometimes it startled him just how seriously his son took their house words. "The other thing I wanted to inform you of was that I've been in talks with Lord Stark. We're planning on betrothing his son Brandon to Catelyn. What do you think?"

Now that Carl's judgment had been proven true in Baelish's case, Hoster was more open to seeing what his eldest son thought about the Stark boy. Carl was Hoster's heir, after all, and it was important to teach him of the matters regarding the Lordship.

"Well, I haven't met him yet, have I?" Carl said with a smile to show he wasn't being sarcastic. "Get him and his dad to come visit. I'll let you know if I think they are decent people. At the very least, they have good reputations. And their visit will let Catelyn meet him and get to know him." Carl suggested.

"Hmm. I'll try, but those Northern Lords hate coming south for anything other than wars." Hoster said. Carl chuckled in response at the truth of that statement.

"Aye, they are a hardy and stubborn lot." Carl got up and started pacing while thinking about the situation. "From what I've heard, Brandon is a decent sort, if a bit excitable. It would be good to be friendly with him and be on good terms with their family, even if he and Cat don't get along."

"Okay, then. That's all I had for you. Get back to your practice then, son." Hoster said after agreeing with Carl's last statement.

"Yes father."

Carl nodded to his father and left to go back to the practice yard in good spirits. His family was finally getting back to the way it should have been. Now he just had to make sure the guards kept Baelish away from his sisters like he ordered them too. 'If those guards let the bastard's golden tongue convince them to let him by despite my orders, they will spend the next month up to their gills in the sewer.' Carl swore to himself.

"Carl!" The voice of Catelyn called out just as Carl was about to enter his room for the night.

Carl turned and saw his two sisters standing in front of him, looking nervous.

"Hey there, Cat, Lys. Are you two alright?" Carl asked.

"We just wanted to be sure you really forgive us?" Cat said nervously.

"We're sorry we didn't listen to you." Lysa added contritely.

"All's forgiven. You're my family, I'll always love you." Carl assured the girls. He hugged them reassuringly "And I'll always look after you. Best as I'm able."

After some more reassuring words, Carl escorted his sisters to their rooms. As he was leaving, he made sure to give the guards the hairy eyeball, making sure they knew not to slack. Even though Carl was only 12 name days old, he had a reputation for martial prowess. He could defeat any two men in the practice yard, so he had quite the reputation and influence with the guards.

He returned to his room, and started up his extracurricular studies. He had found over the past year that he only needed a few hours of sleep to remain alert and have his wits about him.

He didn't know why he was so physically unusual compared to everyone else, but he was happy for it. Without his strange dreams and runes that caused Baelish to run his mouth, he didn't think he would have been able to convince his family of the runts duplicitous nature anytime soon. He would have had to figure out a way to disappear the lad. And with all the guards and servants eyes around, that would have been a difficult prospect.

Carl had a good sleep that night, but didn't have any unusual dreams.

'Those unusual dreams must have been triggered by my intense need for help with the situation I had. Strange.' Carl made his way down to the practice yard. Ever since he had solved the issue with Baelish, he hadn't been having new dreams with strange but useful symbols in them.

He didn't really know what to think about the situation, but he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

A couple hours later, as Carl was in the midst of his daily practice, he noticed many riders entering the castle. The first group had the standards of Lord Bracken. The next group that entered separately had the standards of Lord Blackwood.

Carl was interested in what was going on. Those two houses were houses that owed the Tully's allegiance due to their role as Lord Paramount of the Trident. Both houses had more wealth and had a larger number of military and knights than the Tullys had. And the two houses, Bracken and Blackwood, had a long running feud with each other. So it was unusual to see them both arrive here.

Carl was very interested in learning what they were both here together for. Deciding to end his practice early for the day, Carl washed up quickly before making his way to the big hall.

When he arrived, his father and Lords Bracken and Blackwood were in serious discussion. After listening for several minutes, Carl came to realize that the two lords were seeking to put their family feud behind them because their continual fighting only served to hurt their two family's interests. So they brought their concerns to their Lord to mediate between the two as the families attempted to reconcile with each other.

Carl scowled a bit on the inside while thinking about the situation. Even with the two houses feud going on and wasting their resources on fighting each other, the two houses were wealthier and had more military than House Tully. If they ended their feud and could put their resources towards getting stronger, and House Tully didn't keep up, then it would put his family in a precarious situation.

He would have to keep an eye out for possibilities to help grow House Tully so they would be in the premier position they should be in, instead of the precarious situation they were in.

Carl only briefly considered using underhanded methods to keep the houses under them weak, so they wouldn't overtake his house. But he immediately discarded those ideas. Even thinking that way reminded him of the Bastard Baelish.

Besides which, doing underhanded methods to hurt his vassals would be going against his house words. Duty. Honor.

And there was the final consideration that even if House Tully was the top of the heap inside the Riverlands, there were many wealthy and powerful Lords outside the Riverlands. It wouldn't benefit them any if House Tully was the strongest of a weak lot that could be pushed around by any two bit lord from outside.

No. House Tully needed ways to get truly strong.

After some hours of discussion between the various parties, Lord Tully invited the two groups to stay for a dinner feast while they continued to patch up the relations with the two houses, which they accepted.

Later that night, Carl was enjoying the feast until he spotted the Baelish Bastard making his way to his sister Catelyn to ask her to dance. Scowling, he made his way over and intercepted the boy before he could talk to his sister.

"You'll leave my sisters alone, and leave this feast if you have any desire to keep your teeth in your mouth, you little cunt." Carl stated flatly, staring down at the smaller boy.

"I don't know what I've done to earn this enmity, my lord. I assure you, I remain your family's friend." Baelish replied in a smooth manner, his voice pitched to carry to their audience, especially to Catelyn who was behind Carl.

Carl had to admit, the way the kid could act was impressive. Especially the way he was talking and looking at Carl, but so obviously at the same time giving the puppy dog eyes to Catelyn behind him. If Catelyn hadn't seen for herself what Baelish was really like, she would have stormed over and torn a verbal strip from Carl for harassing her friend.

But unfortunately for Baelish, all Catelyn did was sniff disparagingly and turn away. Petyr's look of shock at his golden tongue failing was absolutely delightful for Carl.

"Last warning, Baelish. Leave now, or be carried out." Carl stated.

With a scowl, Bealish made his way out. Carl didn't trust the look of cunning the boy had gotten while turning away, so he discreetly kept an eye out.

He knew he was right to do so when a half hour later a servant entered the hall with a drink and a note in his hand and made his way directly towards Carl's sister Lysa. Scowling, Carl intercepted the servant.

"Hand the note and drink over, now." Carl ordered when he was standing in front of the young servant man.

"I'm sorry, milord. I was instructed to not hand it over to anyone but the young lady." The servant stated in a mock apology tone, but with a hint of arrogance underneath it.

Carl simply looked at the young man for a moment, furious that his family's own servant thought he had some backing in the Baelish bastard and could defy him, the Heir of the Riverlands. Carl kept those thoughts off his face, though, to see how the servant would react. Just when the man thought he had succeeded in warding off Carl and was going to move around him, Carl struck. The servant dared ignore his orders?

A quick blow to the sternum to stun and wind the man, and Carl grabbed the cup and note out of the man's hands before he could spill the contents. Sniffing the cup, he could tell that something had been added to the wine. That was another one of his senses that he knew was incredibly acute, his smell. His enhanced sense of smell had been handy over the years, but at no time was it more useful than at this moment.

He looked over the note, which was from Baelish, offering to Lysa of a nice cup of wine Baelish had saved for her and a request to meet with Baelish in his quarters. Reading the note caused Carl to frown as he stood glaring down at the servant while he debated how to handle this situation.

Looking over, Carl saw one of his house's guards and motioned for him. The guard swiftly approached him and the wheezing servant that was collapsed on the ground.

"Take this piece of trash and lock him up. Don't let him out until I or my father comes or sends someone with a note from us." Carl ordered.

"Yes, milord." The guard acknowledged Carl's orders before grabbing up the servant and frog marching the still winded man away.

Carl found another guard and ordered him to go to Baelish's room and ensure that no one, especially Carl's sisters, were to be allowed inside. If Baelish tried to leave, he was to be detained and kept inside his room. Carl emphasized strongly that if the guard listened to Baelish and let him out, he wouldn't like the punishment that would come his way. Once the guard respectfully acknowledged the order and departed, Carl then sought out the castle's maester while carrying the cup of tainted wine.

"Maester Naet. I need your assistance for something. Would you be so kind as to accompany me to your study?" He asked the man who was sitting off to the side of the main feast.

"Certainly, my young lord." Maester Naet got to his feet and walked with Carl away from the noisy hall.

Once they had arrived in the man's study, he spent a few minutes lighting some candles from the banked fire.

"So, what did you need my expertise on?" The old man curiously asked. He had a great deal of respect for Carl for his intelligence, and was flattered that the young lord would ask for his help.

"I know that this wine is tainted, but I need your expertise on discovering just what it is tainted with." Carl put the matter to the man straightforwardly. "I will also need you testimony later, Maester."

Maester Naet frowned as he took the cup of wine. "Of course. Give me some time to determine what class of substance is in the wine. You can trust me, young lord."

Nodding gratefully, Carl stood watching as the maester performed several tests with substances that Carl didn't recognize. While watching, Carl had the thought that it might be good if he learned as much as a maester so he could do similar tests on his own. But only if he didn't have to spend his time at the Citadel. He enjoyed the martial arts too much to live a life of scholarly pursuit.

As the saying went, two men can only keep a secret if one of them is dead. And being able to utilize a maester's knowledge base and skills without the possibility any other knowing the results of his studies was an attractive idea. While Carl respected the maesters, he didn't trust that they wouldn't be sending any information they learned on to the Citadel or other maesters.

Humans so loved to gossip, even erudite scholars.

"My lord. I've determined what was added to the wine." Maester Naet proclaimed after some time. "It is a powerful aphrodisiac. If a lady were to ingest this wine, they would not be able to control themselves and would be in the throes of passion all night long."

Carl nodded. It wasn't outside his expectation for Baelish to do such a thing. He was still furious at hearing just what the bastard was up to, though.

"Please write out an official affidavit on your findings, Maester Naet. Bring your report to my father's solar tomorrow morning, where we will meet to discuss the matter. Other than that, thank you for your expertise, and I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening." Carl offered, before departing.

He soon found the captain of the castle's guards, and ordered him to ensure that Baelish was to remain imprisoned in his room, no one allowed in or out.

"Captain, I assure you that if you slack in this duty, my father will find a very painful way to teach you this lesson." Carl warned the man when it looked like he wasn't going to take the duty seriously. "Baelish already tried to delivered a spiked cup of wine to one of my sisters. Do you really think that my father would take dereliction of duty lightly where it concerns his family?" Carl smiled coldly at the man as he gulped in nervousness. "I thought not. Carry on your duty, Captain, and our family thanks you for your dedication."

Carl departed with satisfaction for having put another fool in his place. Carl wasn't sure just how many people Baelish's golden tongue had influenced. He didn't think the Captain of the Guard had been directly influenced, but apparently he had listened to some gossip or other that painted Carl's hostility to Baelish in a certain light such that he hadn't taken Carl's orders seriously at first.

Carl paused in his steps. "Just how did I know all that?" He whispered to himself. Because it wasn't just a supposition. He had somehow known the whole sequence of events that caused the captain to take his orders lightly.

After a moment's consideration, Carl shrugged and continued on his way back to the hall. It didn't really matter too much how he had known something, so much as that it had been useful and helped him head off trouble. As long as he continued getting these helpful hints and abilities and knowledge, he would keep using them, and be grateful.

And if all his strange bits of knowledge just stopped coming one day, then he wouldn't be worse off than any other person. He would just have to remember not to rely on them, since he didn't know when the helpful things would come.

"…and so I ordered the guards to keep Baelish in his room until we were able to discuss his attempted crime against our family, father." Carl was reporting the next morning with the relevant people in attendance. Baelish and the arrogant servant from the day before were also there under guard, looking the worse for wear. Carl hadn't been gentle with the servant that conspired with an outsider.

Baelish was attempting to brazen it out, acting innocent even now. The servant on the other hand was cowering in fear and had been pleading mercy until they had been forced to gag him to shut him up.

"With Baelish's own actions, he has spit upon guest rights. He has spit on House Tully's honor. He should be punished accordingly." Carl finished with a faint feral grin tossed towards Baelish.

"Well done in preventing the affront against your sister's honor." Hoster praised Carl before looking at Petyr Baelish. "I once considered your father a friend. It was why I accepted fostering you, Petyr Baelish. But you have spit upon that friendship and attempted to assault my daughter. In remembrance of the friendship I once had with your father, I will not execute you. But you will be imprisoned until such time as your father can ransom you. Take him away."

The guards dragged Baelish, screaming and pleading, away. The brat finally realized that he wasn't going to be given a chance to use his golden tongue to wriggle out of punishment. And apparently he didn't think his father could afford to pay the ransom, if his pleadings were to be taken seriously. Carl wasn't too bothered by the idea of Baelish being in prison for the rest of his life.

"And now for your sentence." Hoster looked at the servant. "You were a trusted member of this household. But you conspired with someone to attempt to assault my daughter. I have no idea what other crimes you have committed against your lord. But what you have already done is enough to sentence you to death. You will be hung until dead tomorrow morning. Take him away."

Both Carl and his father ignored the man's muffled pleas for mercy. Where was his loyalty and mercy when he was aiding Baelish to set up the rape of Lysa? The traitor was getting what he deserved.

Hoster looked at Carl in pride, and Carl felt proud at his father's approval. They moved on to talking about the various duties and considerations of a Lord Paramount. Hoster had begun teaching Carl recently as he would need to know many things before he came of age at 16 and began helping Hoster with the ruling of their lands and eventually taking over as Lord Paramount.

With the event behind them and with Baelish out of the way, the Tully's family life settled down to what it was before Baelish had arrived. Carl once more enjoyed his time with his family, and they were closer than ever. The knowledge of how a smooth talking outsider had almost ruined their family closeness made all of them work even harder at making sure their family bonds were solid.

Family.

Life returned to normal for the Tullys soon after. Carl and his siblings continued their various studies, and Carl and Edmure trained in the practice yard.

Edmure had expressed a desire to become a knight, so Hoster had assigned Edmure as a paige. If he did well and was conscientious in his duties, he would be assigned as a squire to a knight for several years until he was knighted himself.

Hoster's brother Brynden had offered to take on Edmure if he proved that he was dedicated enough. Carl did what he could to help Edmure prepare for his being a squire and knight. Part of that was knowing how to take care of all of a knight's gear. So they often spent hours in the armory learning how maintain and repair armor and weapons.

Carl's sisters were quite ladylike, so they stayed far away from the boys as long as they smelled like a pile of metal. Carl always smirked when he would give either sister a big hug, breaking into laughter at their squawks of outrage.

Life was good for Carl now that he had his family back.

Later on in the year 276 AC word spread around the kingdom that King Aerys II and his sister-wife Rhaella had another son who seemed healthy enough to survive. It had been 17 years since the last child that had survived. They named him Viserys.

Carl's family had a feast in celebration of the news of Viserys' birth and gave wishes of good health. When Carl asked Hoster in private just why they needed to have a feast when they weren't anywhere near the family in question, Hoster told him about the King's spymaster who had informants everywhere. And it wouldn't do their family any good if they weren't seen to celebrate the royal family's triumphs.

Carl made a note to himself to never complain about their rulers where anyone might hear. He wasn't sure if that level of paranoia was justified, but it was better to be safe than to accidentally bring disaster down on his family because he had a loose mouth.

One day early in the year of 277 AC, Carl was woken up by the noise of many people in the castle all moving about, creating a big racket. When he exited his door, he saw his siblings also looking around for answers.

"I'll go ask father what is happening." Carl reassured them when he saw how nervous his siblings looked. "Why don't you stay together and I'll be back soon."

When Carl entered his father's solar, he saw Maester Naet and the military commanders of his father, as well as the guard captains.

"Father, what has happened?" Carl asked his Hoster.

"It's insanity. Lord Darklyn has rebelled and taken King Aerys II captive, and is making demands. We are being called to join the besieging force to rescue the King." Hoster informed Carl. "You will remain here. Brynden will be here soon to look after you and your siblings. I want you all to be good for him." Hoster sternly told him.

Something in Hoster's voice made Carl aware that there would be no give in those orders. Even though Carl wanted to join Hoster and their military as they went to rescue the King, he knew he would be denied, so Carl swallowed down the request and acquiesced to his father's orders.

Carl returned to the family wing and informed his siblings about what was going on, and what would happen from then on. The siblings piled together in one bed, talking together until they fell asleep all together. Carl smiled as he looked down at the sight. Up until he and his twin sister were 8 name days old they had shared a room together. But it had been 5 years since then. He sometimes missed the time when he and his twin were so close. But that was just part of growing up.

The siblings were up early the next morning to see their father and their soldiers off as they left for the siege.

Life felt different with their father gone. Carl spent more time working with the various servants and stewards, learning about their lands and making decisions on how to govern it.

Carl's sisters, especially, were nervous while their father was gone. They didn't understand war too much, being ladylike young girls. But they knew war was dangerous. They had already lost their mother at a young age, and were nervous about their father being in danger while he was gone.

Carl did what he could to comfort his sisters, but it was just one of those things that he couldn't really fix, even with strange dreams. The only solution would be for their father to return home safely.

The siege lasted for six months. With the King hostage, the loyal forces didn't dare attack for fear that the rebels inside would kill the King in retaliation. Carl and his siblings received occasional letters from their father that reassured them he was still fine, which eased their worries.

Catelyn and Lysa relaxed a little when they learned that there wasn't really any fighting going on. Edmure simply continued to focus on his duties as a paige, more determined than ever to become a knight.

Carl, on the other hand, began studying all the military books they had on siege warfare, as well as questioning everyone who had any knowledge of the topic. His interest was whetted on military topics due to the events currently happening. Besides, they lived in a castle as well. What would he do if he was besieged in Riverrun? How would he defend against an enemy right outside their walls?

While Carl was studying the manuals on sieges, he was inspecting their home with an eye for how to defend it, as well as what the enemy would look for when seeking to attack.

He started taking notes of all the little things. Like stacks of wood and straw that were out in the open that would be easy to light on fire with arrows. Carl analyzed the frequency of patrols and the patterns that infiltrators would look for. Where the armory and supplies were, and how long they could survive on what they had if they couldn't get outside supplies.

Carl wrote them up as reports and presented them to his Uncle, since he was a knight with experience. Brynden was greatly impressed with Carl's intellect and ingenuity, and started working with the guard captains to fix some of the holes and vulnerabilities that Carl had pointed out.

Eventually the Defiance of Duskendale and the siege was over, and Hoster returned to Riverrun. From what Hoster told Carl of the siege, Lord Tywin of the Lannisters, who was the Hand of the King, had decided they couldn't wait anymore after six months of the siege. The rebels being besieged were getting more desperate the longer their demands weren't met, and they were more likely to do something rash. Their best bet was to break in and hope for the best.

But Ser Barristan Selmy of the Kingsguard was concerned about the fate of the king if they attacked. He offered to infiltrate alone and save the king. He had had 6 months of studying the enemy to know how he would infiltrate, and he was a very skilled swordsman. So he was allowed to make the attempt.

Amazingly enough, he succeeded in his attempt. Ser Selmy managed to get inside the city disguised as a beggar before scaling the castle walls at night. He managed to get to the cell where the King was being held and free him. He then escorted the King out of the walls to freedom, despite taking an arrow to the chest in the attempt. It was a very captivating tale of bravery, that all the Tully children were spellbound listening to it.

Without a hostage to keep the loyal forces at bay, Lord Denys Darklyn surrendered. But it didn't do them any good anyway, they may as well have fought. The Darklyns had not treated the King well during his captivity, and the King was seriously unhinged after being held hostage for 6 months.

King Aerys II ordered the deaths of all the Darklyns living in Duskendale. All of Lord Darklyn's family; his aunts, uncles, and distant cousins, were executed. House Hollard, Lord Darlyn's goodkin (wife's relatives), were also executed. The only survivor of the Hollard House was a 15 name day old youth, Dontos Hollard, who was spared because Ser Selmy pled for clemency on his behalf. Dontos was taken to Kingslanding, where he would be made a squire.

Carl and his siblings were spellbound as their father told the tale of the Defiance of Duskendale. It was a good example to Carl of stupidity leading to the complete end of two once great houses.

As near as Carl could tell, the whole thing started because the Darklyns of Duskendale had seen their wealth and trade dwindle due to the growth of the nearby King's Landing. They had been desperate to do something to help their economy improve. Lord Darklyn had sought to win a charter for Duskendale, similar to what Dorne had, and been denied by Lord Tywin who was the Hand of the King.

After being denied by Lord Tywin, Lord Darklyn had decided to roll the dice in the mad venture of taking the King hostage and forcing him to sign a Charter.

Carl thought that move was especially stupid. Even if he had gotten a signed Charter, his death would have come in the next moment when the King regained his freedom.

For Carl, seeing how easily a once great house had been destroyed, he was all too aware of House Tully's precarious situation. They were surrounded by lords that ostensibly owed allegiance to them. But those houses had more wealth and men than House Tully did. It wouldn't take too much of an impetus to push them into a scheme against House Tully.

Especially if one of the Lords was a wily and sneaky bastard like Petyr Baelish had been. As a result of those thoughts and concerns Carl redoubled his studies of both the martial way and knowledge. He especially concentrated on the histories, especially about politics.

If he could familiarize himself with the various schemes that people had pulled in the past, it would help him spot future schemes as they were being shaped. Hopefully he could spot them early enough to put a stop to them before his family was hurt by them.

Soon enough Carl and Catelyn turned 14 namedays old, and had a banquet celebration. Surprisingly enough, Lord Rickard Stark, his wife Lady Lyarra Stark, and their children Brandon, Eddard, Lyanna, and Benjen visited for the birthday celebration, and to talk about the betrothal between Brandon and Catelyn.

Brandon was 2 namedays older than Carl and Catelyn while Eddard was 1 nameday older. Lyanna was the same age as Lysa, 12 namedays, and Benjen was the same age as Edmure, 10 namedays.

As a result, Carl and Edmure spent plenty of time with the Starks in the practice yard, along with Robert Baratheon, who was Eddard's friend and had been fostered along with Eddard in the Vale with Lord Jon Arryn. Robert was the same age as Brandon, and had chosen to journey with his friend 'Ned' to meet his family and the Tullys. So everyone there was close to the same age, and got along fairly well.

Surprisingly enough, all the Starks joined Carl in the practice yard, including Lyanna. She was a real wild one, preferring swords and fighting to the womanly arts. Carl just chuckled when his girly sisters expressed their shock at Lyanna's refusal to join them in the "gossip circle" while sewing or knitting.

Lyanna baldly labeling their time spent as "gossip" offended Carl's sisters, who left Lyanna behind in a huff.

Lyanna was fine with it, since it allowed her to join the boys in the practice yard, which was more to her tastes than wielding a needle.

Carl had a grand time testing his abilities against new people who he wasn't used to their styles of fighting. Carl himself was especially fond of used a bastard sword so he could switch between using a single hand or two hand style.

The older Stark boys favored the greatsword and a two handed style, which had something to do with their family owning an ancestral Valyrian Steel greatsword named Ice. It was a point of pride for them to be able to use the style, since their family's prestige was tied up in the greatsword.

Robert on the other hand favored a large warhammer and a style suited to his strong stature. He was a large and strong man, and was used to being able to overpower his opponents. So he was surprised when Carl, who was smaller than him, showed so much strength that Robert couldn't push Carl around. But Robert took it well and didn't get upset; he simply enjoyed the challenge and was happy to have a strong opponent to test himself against.

Lyanna favored a lighting quick one handed style that had Carl working hard to keep track of. She was very good at confusing her opponents as to just where her blade was going.

Carl really enjoyed the week he spent with the Starks and Baratheon. In the time they spent there, Carl could see that Robert was especially taken with Lyanna, even as young as they were. And while Lyanna was friendly with Robert, something told Carl that she didn't feel quite the same for Robert as he felt for her.

The castle seemed almost empty and quiet when the visiting Starks left at the end of the week. But in the time they visited, the parents had worked out the particulars of the betrothal. They had determined that Brandon and Catelyn would be wed after Catelyn had turned 18 name days old.

Carl found to his annoyance that Catelyn wouldn't shut up about it for nearly another two months. She was certainly smitten with Brandon. His charisma and good looks certainly had quite a bit to do with it. Carl was pleased that she had someone decent to look forward to marrying. Much better than falling into the schemes of a certain rat.

With his twin engaged, Carl's thoughts turned to the topic of his own marriage. He had no idea just who he would marry in the future. He knew his father was still weighing options and trying to maximize the benefits to for their house, based on available and potential allies. He just hoped that he could stand her, whoever she turned out to be.

But that wasn't something Carl needed to worry about for now.