A.N. That was quite a break...Well, I was just a bit down on the whole inspiration thing. I was mostly concentrating on original works and personal life these months, I know you guys will understand.

Contrary to the words spoken before the king, Ned was hesitant to speak to the half ghost after the incident. And to be frank, few dared to do this. By the time the entourage approached the capital, there wasn't a single soul outside his usual circle that wished to talk to him. Perhaps his show was a bit too much. After all, he showed to be a boy who barehandedly ruined a thick, solid piece of metal, besting one of the better swordsmen around. Clegane's own fear only added to the impression. It was always the quiet ones - that world probably had a similar saying. And while the halfa was far from being quiet, he was certainly unassuming at the first glance. But Danny could listen and he could hide to eavesdrop.

Listening to the soldiers felt somewhat nostalgic. Ever since Disasteroid pulled down his mask and revealed him to the world not as a menace, but a saviour, he never caught such looks. He could, of course, wallow in misery, but it was never his way, even in his early hero days. Instead, his young mind was curious about the tales they told. Coupled with stories about wildlings each child was told, it created an interesting mixture he was eager to taste. They told the tales of wildling women sleeping with 'The Others', and he was supposed to be the result. A charming version of the events. Bran explained to the halfa that 'The Others' were legendary undead creatures, who, while supposedly gone for millennia, looked just like the monster Danny faced beyond the wall. The tale was as ludicrous as it was hauntingly close to the real condition of his. He was half-undead, after all, even if his parentage had nothing to do with it.

Danny did not encourage it, nor did he deny the tale, leaving his young friends wonder. There were other rumours that traced his life back to various corners of their world, which was certainly enlightening. The entourage was composed of young noblemen and those that stuck by for a while, so it was a rather educated company. Educated, and yet held captive by their own perceptions and Danny's lack of desire to work on his reputation. So far it did him some good, because nobody bothered him again, not even Joffrey. He was a coward, but now that even his bodyguard didn't want to take a step closer to him, the prince backed off.

Finally, the long journey came to a close. The wild trees that grew as they pleased were replaced by rigid, neat rows of their more cultured, groomed sisters. Whilst looking over their peaks, one could make out the high towers of the royal castle - the Red Keep. But first they all would have to pass the imposing city walls and the city of King's Landing itself. To Danny, it looked like a more grimy version of European South one would see at postcards. It was very warm in that region, so it only made sense. The aforementioned grime came with the day and age. The street leading to the castle was quite broad, but evidently nobody cleaned it up in a while, letting it be consumed by a ravine of trash and products of digestive system. The smell accompanying such a force of nature was on par with all expectations.

The city was certainly more impressive than Winterfell, and Danny was already liking it more. He already got used to the downsides prevalent everywhere in that world, so he could only see the upsides: the size, the beauty and warmth. The entourage was immediately surrounded by curious crowds and the capital was
brimming with life, no matter how lowly such life may have been. Danny smiled and occasionally waved to the city-folk. That alone made him the most cheerful person in the escort of Lord Stark. The rest were carrying the air of grim Northern seriousness, but that's what the soldiers were for, one of which Danny was not. However, when Jory looked his way, Danny put up the face of even graver seriousness, which made a bunch of people laugh, their reaction lost in the sea of cheers and the noise of many hooves hitting the stone road.

The final destination was indeed all red, as the name entailed. The ever knowledgeable Bran shared some titbits about how it was built and how grand the keep was, but Danny had his own observations to make. About the tiresome marathon between a lavatory and a bedroom one would have to endure in the middle of the night. His own castle had a renovation coming for some time. He could not deny that the size was meant to display the power the monarch held, but his own major complaint was the fact that his new supposed abode was filled with deathtraps.

When the entourage finally came to a stop, after riding through the gates of the keep, a time came when everyone had to settle in. Danny was partially spared that fate, for all his belongings were already on him, but he opted to nonetheless help the servants and the guards. It would be a waste not to, with his supernatural strength. Lord Stark himself was summoned to an urgent meeting, but the halfa wasn't interested in it. He was more curious about a separate room, graciously provided by the Queen, bless her reign.

But Ned had no time to dawdle, for a servant came up to him, telling that the Small Council was to hold a meeting at that very moment. Unwilling, the newest Hand of the King still relented and decided to come after a change of clothes.

As soon as he probably could Ned already came to the Council chambers. It was a huge contrast to his usual working conditions, as he was to be watched by rows of Valyrian sphinxes and mysterious creatures and heroes depicted by imported tapestries. A room worthy to hold the most powerful men in the kingdom. And speaking of such, one of them, the eunuch Varys, a small man wearing lavish robes with the air of expensive perfumes around him, welcomed the newest Hand.

"Lord Stark, I was grievous to hear about what happened on the kingsroad. We have all been lighting the candles in the sept, praying for his recovery."

Ned prevented himself from grimacing at the sweetened assault on his senses of smell and reason. It was but a branch.

"The gods have heard you," Ned slowly pulled away his hand from Varys's grip. "The prince is getting better every day."

Ned turned his attention to lord Renly, who was conversing with the short, nondescript man that could only be Littlefinger, Lord Baelish. Renly turned to them and smirked.

"I'd wager that the Hound also secretly hopes for our prayers," he quipped. "He sure seems on edge after what Lord Stark's guest did to him."

"I've heard some concerning rumours," Littlefinger strolled closer. "They say that that lad is nothing short of a demon."

"There is a difference between devilry and sorcery," Varys noted with cold displeasure.

"Didn't take you for someone trusting this nonsense, dear friend," Baelish smiled.

"I assure you, lords, he is no demon," Ned responded, unhappy that that's how the conversation started. No matter how helpful Danny could have been, he was most certainly a burden on the Starks' reputation.

"Then can you tell us what to expect? You should understand everyone's concern," Varys said.

Ned turned to him. "If you don't stop his rounds around the library, he won't pay attention to you. He will leave eventually, once he finds what he is looking for. Lords, I made a long journey, can we get down to business?"

"Of course, lord Stark," Varys made an inviting gesture towards the table.

-Linebreak-
Meanwhile Danny's first action was to drop on the bed, the best one he had ever since coming to that world, and nearly fell asleep then and there, but he knew that he had no time to waste.Turning his head, he noticed two things. One, a fresh set of decent clothes, just as arranged. Two, a flagon on the small table. Danny decided to have a bath now that they were in a giant castle. Surely there was something resembling one. But before he left, curiosity got the best of him. Phantom got up, approached the table and poured himself just a little. It was wine, obviously, and while he didn't drink, he was there to check one thing. After making a small sip, he soon flinched, before sighing.

"You can do better than that, Your Grace," he mumbled.

She could wait just a bit to poison him. Danny didn't know what Cersei planned to do with his body, but she obviously wanted him dead as soon as possible. Nonetheless, his body was already filled with a dangerous toxin, what would a drop of another do? He promptly disposed of the liquid by spilling it out of the window and onto the coastal rocks. Lest a sneaky servant tried to have a sip and died.

His next stop was the bath. The journey would have been shorter if Danny didn't take additional detours, occasionally peeking into rooms in an attempt to learn the layout. The castle didn't exactly have any direction signs. He took notes, learned about what to do and what he should avoid in his own home. It was, in general, quite enlightening, although he did not manage to find the library just yet. He would get to it soon enough, right after washing off the dust and dirt. He was the first and only person at the moment to be there, so it was a pleasant experience. The servants provided him with everything necessary, although cautious of the newcomer to the castle. Still, his confidence made them less suspicious and more willing to cooperate. Then he simply lied in the warm bath, wondering about what to do next. His pondering was stopped when he heard someone enter. Looking back, Danny smirked upon seeing Jaime.

"Hello there," he called and saluted.

The knight did not look happy to see him. "What are you doing here?"

Danny looked around, raised his hand from the water and examined it. "I am bathing. It was a long road, after all."

"In the room which is not meant for the likes of you, brat. I suggest for your own good that you leave."

Danny sighed. "Come on, can't a guy take a bath? I know you people don't try to wash daily, but I try to keep a proper level of hygiene. You came here for a reason, right? Come on, get in, let's just talk."

"I am afraid we won't find many topics for discussion. Ones that will be interesting to me, at least."

"I don't think so. Can't two Kingslayers chat for just a bit?"

Jaime stared at the boy in front of him. Danny appeared serious about what he said, besides the many layers of sarcasm. He remembered how the boy reduced Hound to a shouting pup, so he was obviously more dangerous than he let on. And it could be within his power to murder some wildling or any other 'king'.

"Which king did you kill?"

"Oh. Now we are actually talking. I didn't KILL Pariah, but he is deposed and locked up in a very unpleasant prison forever. Or until my lovely frootloop for a family friend releases him again."

"Pariah? That a nickname?"

"Well, in a way me and him are similar, too," responded Danny with a small chuckle. "We both once held nicknames that stuck so hard that nobody sees the difference. Phantom, the Great One, Pariah's Bane...whelp..." the halfa recalled multiple monickers of his. "What about you? I've heard that you stabbed the Mad King in the back and got nothing but a nickname out of it."

"Did the world a favour, I would say. When your king loses his mind, it is not pleasant to go down with him. Am I going to hear complaints from a child?"

"No," Said the halfa. "It may not be the most honourable thing, but chivalry is dead. If he really went mad and started killing everyone, then it was the right thing to do. I still wouldn't turn my back to ya, but I understand what you did."

"Now my conscience is at ease," Jaime huffed. "This doesn't change anything, lad, you still are not supposed to be here."

"Party pooper," Danny sighed. "Well, I was about done, anyway," he sighed and reached for the towel. As he was heading outside of the bathroom, he turned around and smirked. "Oh, and please, tell her Grace that poisoning someone upon arrival is not the kindest of welcomes."

Jaime blinked and wordlessly stared at him. Cersei must have been at the limit of her patience. She couldn't have done so during the trip, where half of the most important figures in the kingdoms were. Here, before anyone could settle in, she had hoped to kill the boy and dump him somewhere unnoticed. But how did the boy survive and knew of poison? Pycelle must have been losing his touch...or the boy was actually a demon impervious to conventional methods, which was an unsettling thing to consider. Cersei had to know of this, indeed.

After dressing up in some decent clothes that definitely had not been received from the Queen herself, Danny set out for the library. He had no time to lose. Asking the guards for directions, he eventually found it. The towering shelves of books presented a challenge yet unseen during his time in Winterfell - there were just so many to look through. The library had several floors atop of that. Danny whistled and decided that it would take him a while with no librarian in sight. In general, the room did not seem very friendly to a newcomer, it was more of a book storage than a library in a sense Danny was used to. There was no system, books were scattered nigh randomly. Perhaps, the man responsible for watching over the library would know where everything was located. And just as Danny picked up a random tome with this thought in mind, his ear caught the sound of the door opening and closing.

From the second floor where he was located, the halfa glanced over the railing and saw the entering person. It was a hunched old man with balding head but with luxurious and long white beard that made him look almost wizardly. Dressed in red velvet robes, he also spotted a chain around his neck that immediately gave away his position. Danny immediately noted a significant difference in the amount of those links, so that old man must have been very knowledgeable. Deciding not to sneak up on him, lest the scare gave him a heart attack, Danny first decided to call out to him.

"Hey, down there!" He said and sat on the railing.

The Grand maester looked up and stared. "Oh, I didn't expect to see anyone here," he half-stuttered.

"Yeah, I kinda went in uninvited," Danny shrugged and jumped down, softly landing on the ground near the old man. "Sorry about that."

"If you are allowed into the Keep, you are allowed here also."

Despite the welcoming words, Pycelle was closely examining the lad, having just heard of his existence on the Small council. All those rumours made the child appear more imposing compared to what Pycelle was seeing at the moment. But if he really was a sorcerer, the ability to appear completely unassuming was something to watch out for. Pycelle simply decided to wait until the boy signed his own sentence.

Nevertheless, Danny beamed.

"Then can you please help me? This place is as orderly as my parents' lab, and I would like to be done soon."

A married couple in possession of something even that barbarian considered a lab. Pycelle's mind drew a rather prejudiced picture of bird guts and pig tails twisted in some unholy "research project".

"Oh, certainly," Pycelle smiled and lightly bowed, grunting as befitting an old man like him. "What are you looking for?"

He said this, but without the Queen's instruction he would not simply hand him a book. That, and his pride as a Maester. A barbarian from Beyond the Wall did not deserve such an honour.

"I'm looking into records of anomalies of sorts. Something that could be mistaken as some magical...incident."

"Mistaken as? You don't believe in magic, lad?"

That wasn't something he expected to hear from a supposed sorcerer.

"No, magic definitely exists. But if it is what I am looking for, it is nothing but a thinned out veil in space-time continuum."

Pycelle blinked.

"Well, I am not sure if I have ever seen anything by that term, but it is probably in historic tome section. You were just on your way there when I came in. It is the...oh, my memory is not what it used to be...the second row, I think."

Danny grinned once more. "Thank you, sir, I won't be a bother, promise."

Pycelle nodded and closed his eyes to think for a moment. Yes, the boy was to yet taste the poison-laced wine. He would just have to hope the lad doesn't rip anything. Once the Grand Maester opened his eyes, he saw that Danny was already carefully rummaging through the shelves. How did he get there so fast? And so damn quietly. Unsurprising that the lad was called a demon.

Danny's search was not very fruitful that day. He did not expect much out of that very surface-level endeavour. But there already were some books that caught his interest. An interest that proved to be incredibly fleeting. His curiosity about the castle was fuelled by a lengthy tome on that very royal residence. So, Danny was quick to set out to explore his new haunt for the nearest weeks at the very least. That evening Cercei would receive reports that apart from the library Danny was spotted in nearly every corner of the castle. If the Queen did not know better, she would have thought him a spy, and some people on the Small Council would probably arrive at the same conclusion.

But they also ought to know that lord Stark was not that capable of the Game. It would befit Varys to use a child for scouting every escape route, nook and cranny just in case. Or perhaps they all misjudged him. No, Cersei knew what it was like - that child was surprisingly conniving for his age. And whilst he was in the picture, serving the Starks at least on paper, Eddard could achieve a lot if he set out against the Lannisters, even if that Northern buffoon may not have realised this. That brat needed to be out or dead.

In the evening, the aforementioned Northern house, or, at least, the members that were in the capital, gathered in the dining room, discussing how well they settled in.

"Oh, these rooms are wonderful, father," Sansa was expectedly in awe of the King's Landing. "So spacious and warm even without the fireplace lit all the time."

Ned nodded. "It's great," was his brief response as he looked at his young son. "What about you, Bran?"

"When do I start training? I can't wait."

"In due time. We've just arrived. I'll have to talk to the Master at..."

Suddenly the door opened, and as that very dining room was in his path, Danny was bound to cross it once more on the way to his quarters, several scrolls in toe. Arya brightened up at the sight.

"Danny! Where have you been?" She asked.

The halfa turned to the girl. "In the library. Don't wanna waste any time."

Ned approved of such diligence. The sooner he was done, the better.

"And how is it going?"

"Well, the old man there was not very helpful. Doesn't even remember where he puts his things," Danny shrugged.

Ned nodded. "Come sit."

"What an honour," the halfa responded slowly and hesitantly. Once Ned made another nod towards the table, Danny relented and did just that.

"Occasionally we invite a petitioner from Winterfell to share a table," Ned explained. "I suppose this extends to you, too."

Danny chuckled as the nearest water flagon poured him some water on its own. He took the cup and made a sip.

"I'm not making a petition, though," he remarked. "I've got all I need."

"I would be surprised if you were," Ned commented. "You DID get further south than any of your supposed brethren. That is their main excuse."

"At the chopping block?"

"Each and every wildling we find ends up becoming a bandit. You are more fortunate."

"Not everyone can be so useful."

"That's what everyone seems to believe."

"Including you, lord Stark?"

Ned sighed. Well, since nobody would believe otherwise, he might as well not refuse the extended hand.

"We are far from home. We could use any help that we can get."

"Yeah, Danny can beat all the Kingsguard!" Arya said and punched the air.

Bran looked a bit more reluctant. "I hope he won't have to..."

"He shouldn't," Sansa finally spoke up. "The Kingsguard serve the King, they will be protecting us."

Somehow Danny thought that 'us' did not extend to him. Still, he as usual did not hold anything about the young girl's scorn. The halfa sighed.

"I promised I will protect your family, lord Stark. As long as I am here. But I don't want any part in the local schemes."

"I'm starting to feel it won't be our choice," Ned sighed.

"Father, you said that there will be tourney!" Bran changed the topic, smartly sensing the silence that fell after Ned's statement.

"Don't remind me," his father said, but he did sound a bit more relaxed.

"Well, if you won't take part, then maybe we can send Danny? He will definitely win."

"Yes. I wanna see those idiots' faces," Arya snickered.

"A tourney, huh?" Danny smirked, starting to seriously consider this.

"No," Ned said firmly. Sensing confusion, he continued. "We don't need to draw more attention to him than he already has. Besides, he is not of noble birth, so this will have its own set of problems."

"I was knighted," Danny grumbled quietly, not actually pushing it.

"Besides, this whole tourney is just a waste of money."

"Yeah..." Danny said slowly. "Just for the record, how much is the reward?"

"Twenty thousand gold dragons."

Danny may not have been much on the local economy, but that sounded like hella lot. He could use all the funds. It did look like cheating. After all, he was politely refused at every sport competition back home, now that everyone knew he was far above all Olympic champions. Still, if he didn't end up spending it on his immediate needs, he could just spend it all on some sort of charity. He would have no need for gold coins in his homeworld.

"Thatsh a lot," Arya said while chewing, to the visible displeasure of Sansa.

"Yes," Ned agreed. "And this is no time to go around wasting it. Daniel...if you want to be of help, don't make it worse by such scandals. The lords will not take kindly to being bested by a wildling."

Danny hummed, and a plan was hatched in his head. What if only a select few, those disinterested in the tourney, knew of his participation? One such person happened to wear a crown, owing him qute a bit.

The next morning Cersei woke up and immediately saw the hated brat sitting on a chair by her bed.

"Morning, Your Grace," Danny smiled and tilted his head. "Didn't know that His Majesty sleeps separately. Quite convenient."

"How did you get in?!" Cersei hissed with hatred, tempted to shout.

"I can go through walls," Danny responded as if it explained everything.

"Get out immediately or I swear..."

"You tried to poison me," the halfa pretended to be genuinely hurt. "I deserve to take a couple of minutes of your time."

Cersei stared at the madman. That wasn't a proper reaction to an assassination attempt.

"What do you want?" The Queen hissed and sat on the bed.

"I want in on the tourney. Unfortunately, lord Stark won't finance my blunder..."

Cersei was ready to claw out his eyes with rage, but suddenly, the anger subsided. Tourney was often a place for nasty accidents of all sorts. And knowing who will also take part...

"Fine, you will have the money, now get out."

"I knew I could count on the Lannister generosity," Danny smirked, before getting up and approaching the opened window. "See you soon!" he said and jumped out.

That boy had to die. And now a boy who just learned to ride a horse was to fight a mountain that could.