Chapter 37-A Web Untangled!

Chapter 37

ROBERT BARATHEON

"What!" his brother raged at his words, as he had expected.

Yet his mind was made. Despite Ned's council, Robert had found it hard to trust the very counsellors who had let a man like Littel Finger rob him blind. His decision would probably cause his Hand some headaches, but he could no longer see these traitors sitting on his council.

"I thought I was much clear," and he sat in his solar, having summoned Renly to his solar to give him the news.

And his youngest brother seemed as angry and frustrated as he had expected.

"You are no longer needed in my council. You are free to gather your belongings and take your leave," and Renly's face flushed in rage and humiliation, not that he cared for it.

"But I am your brother, how can y..."

"And you are as useless as an oaf," he challenged, raging at his disrespect.

"You lot let Little Finger plunder the realm and saw nothing of it," Renly scoffed.

"I was the Master of Laws, not Coin. And why is it that you blame me for Little Finger's actions, when there are others in the council who have failed you as well?" And indeed, the others were nearly as useless as him.

"Don't worry about them. They will not be part of the Council anymore," and they had already replaced Slynt with a new Commander of the City Watch, and Baelish was set to be replaced by a new Master of Coin.

The Spider. He wished to hear his excuse before he took the man's head. Ned was suspicious of the man, arguing that it was impossible for the Master of Whisperers to be unaware of Baelish's schemes and plots, hence making the bald man implicit in his treason.

It was also rather suspicious that none had caught even a glimpse of the man ever since the day Baelish had died, and the guards guarding his cell had spoken of only one visitor.

Varys.

Though there was no proof, it was obvious that the bald bastard had killed Baelish. And there was but one reason he would do something like this.

The man was worried about the words that would come out of Baelish's lips. And it made him wonder just what kind of tales would the bastard have sung had he not been killed.

The Gold Cloaks had been given their orders and were actively searching for the bald man, yet the man had vanished into thin air.

"You will regret this," Renly lashed out as Robert waved his hand dismissively.

"I regret the day I thought you be competent enough to be one of my councillors. Yet you could not even see how the Crown was being robbed by the man sitting right besides," and Renly was on his feet.

"Jon Arryn was your hand before Stark. Baelish was his man. You cannot blame me for the incompetence of Jon Arryn," and the insults made him rage.

"Do not utter that name with your filthy mouth," Robert warned him.

"Jon Arryn was twice the man you would ever be," and yet a part of him could not deny that the man had been wrong in putting his trust in that rat.

"Gather your things and go back to Storm's End," and Renly's nostrils flared as Robert picked up a goblet and drowned it.

"Ha! I should have expected this from you," Renly scoffed shaking his head, as he looked him in the eye.

"It has always been like this with you. Stannis was right about you," and his eyes narrowed at the mention of his other brother, the one who had been rather defiant in answering his summons.

Robert had written to him twice now, and yet had been rebuffed each time as Stannis refused to return to the capital. And for all his faults, he had thought better of Stannis. He had always been dutiful and respectful for all his faults, and yet even he grew defiant and rowdy.

"You were more of a brother to Stark than to either of us," and he was on his feet as he reached for the pin on his chest and threw it across the table.

CLANG!

"You can have it back, but do know this, your grace." his tone was taunting and cold.

Had it been any other man besides his own kin, Robert would have skinned them alive, yet he held his rage as Renly rounded off and walked towards the door.

"If you think me a traitor, then Stark is an even bigger traitor than I," and he was on his feat.

"You dare accuse Stark of treason!" and that was it, as Robert jumped to his feet.

"That man has more honor in his one finger than you do in your entire pathetic being!" and he was disgusted by his own brother, for none would ever accuse Eddard of being dishonorable in his presence.

"Is that so?" Renly taunted as he looked into his eyes.

"Then do ask him, what was he doing in the Street of Steel some days ago? Ask him that and you will have your answer," and he did not let him speak any more as he headed out of the room, leaving him alone in his solar.

Robert plopped down on the chair as he began to drown out his rage with wine and ale. Renly's words continued to stir in his mind, yet he soon put them out of his mind, thinking them to be useless ramblings as he tried to think of a man to replace his idiot brother on the Council.

.

.

.

And as he had expected, some time later the door to his solar swung open once more as Ned raced in with a raging expression.

"What have you done, Robert?" he raged, as Robert simply shrugged, having no care for the trouble he may have caused his hand.

"What I should have done many moons ago," he replied, and yet he had tried to let Ned talk him out of it.

But in the end, he could not stomach the thought of those idiots being a part of his council any longer.

"You have just cut down half the Council," Ned pleaded as he rubbed his temples.

"We have no idea about the whereabouts of Varys. The new Master of Coin has yet to arrive, and now you have also removed the Master of Laws," and he shrugged.

"All of them are either useless or, even worse, traitors. Why should I let them be a part of my Council?" he argued, and it was better to be done with all of it at once rather than waiting and letting the rot fester.

"I cannot run the realm on my own!" Ned argued, his voice growing louder in frustration.

"I am not asking you to," Robert retorted, thinking his friend was too boorish over this entire affair.

"The Master of Coin is set to arrive soon. His ship is a day's ride away from the capital," and Eddard had told him this himself.

"He will be here by tomorrow, as for Renly's replacement, bring me a list of suitable candidates and I will make a choice," and he emptied the cup.

"Sit!" he cut in before Ned could pester him anymore about this.

What was done was done!

And he pushed forward the goblet as he offered him some wine.

"Drink, and ease your worries. The realm will not crumble if you stop working for a few days. By the Seven, you could use some rest," and Eddard's lips thinned, yet he took the wine.

"As if you let me," he argued as Robert smiled at the jape.

"I never should have accepted your offer," and Robert chuckled at those words.

"It is too late to have regrets now. You are the Hand, and you must have heard what they say about the Hand," he taunted, as Eddard nodded.

"The King shits, and the Hand sweeps," and that was the truth of it.

They sat there for some time, joking and japing as he tried to help his old friend ease into life. He was thankful for all that he had done for him and the realm, yet he could see that it was taking a toll on him.

He hoped that the arrival of his wife and his daughters would bring him some comfort.

"A Septon came for you today," Eddard suddenly cut in.

"The High Septon has arranged a grand prayer for the Queen and the child in her womb. He has extended an invitation to you and the Queen to attend the sermon," and he hated this, yet it was a tradition.

One which he disliked very much.

"I remember this. I used to have Jon attend these things in my stead," and the expectation was evident as Eddard shook his head.

"I am afraid you cannot do the same with me. The Stark keep to the Old Gods," and that was a problem.

"Perhaps I could send someone else, Renly maybe..." and Eddard raised a brow, as suddenly it clicked together.

"You just had him removed from his position in the Council. I highly doubt he would be in the city for much longer," and for the first time ever, he regretted his decision to remove Renly from his council.

Yet even now, the regret was only about doing so early.

"We will deal with tomorrow. Today, you and I are going to do nothing else but drink wine and remember the old times," and his friend made to argue he cut in.

"The realm can go to hell for all I care! I did not bring you to the capital to have you hole up in your solar! I brought you here for I missed my friend! We have not had the opportunity to sit down like this in ages! Today, you will do nothing but sit with this King and drink!" he added grandly.

"But Robe...."

"Your King commands it..."

0000

VARYS-The Spider

There was little that a man such as him feared in life. He had seen it all in his life, sickness, hunger, death, pain all of it. And yet to this day, he had seen nothing more vile than the art of magic.

It was the one thing he feared. One thing that he had no answer to.

When he had left Myr, he had thought that he would never see it again. Afterall, the Maesters were much fond of saying that magic had vanished from their world, and all that remained were parlor tricks.

And it was true in a way. Yet, he could not be so certain any longer.

The Stark boy had always been a strange one. Too quiet. Too observant. Even as a child, he knew too much for some reason, being aware of uncanny secrets and knowledge that none in the realm should be privy to.

He had thought it to be a farce, believing the lie that children grew much quicker in the absence of their parents, and though his parents were not dead, he was without any parent in the capital.

Yet, he was surprised when the boy unravelled the entire network of the cunning Master of Coin singlehandedly. A feat which even he could not pull off reliably. Petyr Baelish was too cautious a man, and he had spread his Gold all over the city, with his men occupying all the major offices.

The man had spent around a decade filling the Red Keep and the city with men loyal to him, and yet all of it had been unraveled in but one week.

All of it because of one singular purpose. And as the Mocking Bird fell, Varys began to feel the noose tighten around his own neck, for with Baelish gone his work of years was undone.

And so, he had tried once more, hoping to use his trial to stir trouble in the Seven Kingdoms, pitting them against one another so that, the true monarch could come and unite the realm.

And yet their plot was seen though by someone, and though he had little proof he had an inkling that Baelish's killer was none other than the Stark boy himself.

And it all made him far more dangerous than anyone else thought.

It was clear to him that the King would not let this go, and with Baelish gone the next logical target in cleaning up the Red Keep would be him.

He could have tried to stay and combat this, yet he was helpless against the secrets and powers of magic, and so he had run. Taking a ship to Braavos, he had written to his friend and partner Illyrio, seeking passage, as he abandoned his task in Kingslanding knowing that they would have to change their plans.

He landed on the ports within a moon with a carriage waiting for him. And so, he was taken to the manse of his friend, and as the servants led him to the Guest Room, he heard his partner come.

The doors opened and in walked a hulking figure of a man, and the wealth had made his old friend and partner fat, yet his mind yet remained sharp as he walked into the room with a boisterous laugh.

"It has been some years, my dear friend," he greeted him as Varys smiled at the man and shook his hand, as his servants served them with wine and fruits and Illyrio's favorite cheeses.

"Indeed so," he agreed as he sat down, and Illyrio had grown even fatter in the years. His beard was yellow parted at the end, and his head had begun to bald.

"So, I must say I was rather surprised when your missive came," and there was a reason to be surprised.

"It is not like you to run away from a place with such haste," and indeed, but to his shame, there was but one thing he feared.

Magic, and he had an inkling that the Stark boy was using that very thing.

"It is not, but I had no choice. The Game was up, had I spent another night within that city, I am afraid I would not have been able to come here with my life," and Illyrio's eyes glinted.

"That is a shame. It all leaves a bad taste in my mouth," he continued while biting into the thick cheese, and licking his fingers.

"To have all your work undone," and indeed, but his friend was not entirely correct.

"Not all of it," he corrected.

"I did manage to leave them a parting gift. But yes, it is sad but we must make haste and adjust our plans. The board has shifted greatly in the last few moons, and we must make our moves," and Illyrio finally put down his cheese as he stared into his eyes.

"Aye, but the boy is still young. You were the one who argued against making a move just a few moons ago," and he had.

"As I said, times have changed," and if they gave the Stark boy more time to consolidate power, they would lose this opportunity, for if the Seven Kingdoms were united behind a single banner, it would be impossible for any army, lest it had dragons, to conquer sit itself on the Iron Throne.

"It is time for us to make use of our two dragons," and Illyrio's mood soured.

"I have tried, but as the time passes, I keep thinking that perhaps it was a mistake to wed that girl to the Khal. She would have been the perfect wife for our dragon," indeed, but their hands were forced, and they had no idea that they would be forced into making a move so early.

"The Khalasar fears water. Drogo will not ride to Kingslanding, not as long as there is a sea between them," and that was troubling.

"Then perhaps we should give him a reason to...."

0000

And miles away on the shores of Kingslanding, a small ship made harbor, and yet all but one person stepped out of the boat. Her entire body was covered in a red cloak, and as soon as her feet touched the ground, she found a fat priest with red eyes similar to her own standing in her way.

His gaze, though, was not so welcoming as he asked in a cold tone.

"What are you doing here, Melisandrei of Asshai?"

She pulled down her gown, and the sight of her face made any head turn. People began to whisper that her skin was white as porcelain, and it shimmered in the light as she looked at the man standing opposite her.

"You know the answer to that," she replied to the drunken Priest Thoros.

"I am here to do our lord's work...."

0000

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