The journey south passed much as it had done on the way up to Winterfell. The Queen's wheelhouse was as slow as ever, as was the huge baggage train, all trundling along at agonisingly slow speeds, for league after league after league. The first time he had travelled down this way, Ren had been four years old, riding down with his mother to Riverrun, sitting in front of her on her horse. That journey had gone in a blink of an eye, his child self eagerly taking in all the new sights and sounds. This journey, on the other hand, felt like even more of an eternity than it had on the way North.

His days were spent riding with Loreon, often Tommen too, as the boy did not like to be left with his father without his half-brother there. Crow - growing larger every day - ran beside his horse at times, and though went off hunting with Arya and Sansa's wolves at others. Sansa's Lady was sweet-natured and docile, whilst Arya's Nymeria was adventurous and fierce. Crow was darker and leaner than the rest, with a mean, hungry look in his yellow eyes that made him menacing despite his young age. The wolf was known to snap at anyone he disapproved of who got too close. As a result, Tommen tended to give Crow a wide berth, as did many others, and even Loreon and Jaime still gave the wolf wary looks every now and again.

Ren didn't see Morganna much during the day; she was always riding with Princess Myrcella, whom she had befriended, against all odds. Myrcella was a nice girl, and not nearly as vile as her twin Joffrey, but she seemed far too well-behaved for his little sister to be interested in her. She must have had a hidden side, for Morganna rarely hung around with people who bored her, regardless of whether they were a Princess or not.

Sansa was still fawning over Joffrey. Apparently the way he had reacted to Edrick beating him up hadn't put her off at all, which was a shame. Whilst Ren had to admit the little shit could be charming when he wanted - and acted like a gentleman around Sansa - he knew it wouldn't last. He only hoped that his innocent little cousin would not find that out the hard way.

Arya, on the other hand, was never to be found, darting throughout the column causing trouble and making friends with anyone and everyone. Her latest companion was a butcher's boy, Mycah, who Sansa turned her nose up at. Arya came back covered in leaves and dirt every evening, looking like she'd had the time of her life, babbling about exploring some place or other off the road.

Travelling through the Neck was always the worst part of the journey. The wheelhouse and heavy wagons got stuck in the muddy ground more times than could be counted, and sleeping on the ground at night was always damp and miserable. By the time they reached the Trident, the whole party was frustrated and irritable; the Northmen because of the frustratingly slow pace and the southrons because of the boggy lands they had just gone through.

Once in the Riverlands, things were somewhat better. The going got faster, conditions improved and there were far more inns where some of the party could sleep inside. That rarely included Ren, however, so he was largely indifferent to that. There was no chance of Crow being allowed inside, either. In the night hours where the direwolf wasn't hunting with Lady and Nymeria, he liked to curl up next to Ren's bedroll.

"If that thing gets any bigger, I won't be able to fit into my own tent," Loreon complained; the two of them shared.

"Just shove him out the way if he's on your side," Ren said.

"You've got to be joking," His friend was incredulous. "If my toe so much as touches that wolf in the night, he snarls like he's about to tear my foot off. He's not a tame hunting hound, Ren,"

"If I didn't have Crow here, you'd have brought back half a dozen camp followers by now without a care," He said, amused. "Which is exactly what happened on the road North, so don't deny it,"

Loreon laughed despite himself. "Nothing stopping you doing the same,"

"You know exactly what's stopping me,"

"You left your mother back in Winterfell, she's not going to swoop in to scold you. As if she doesn't know what we get up to in King's Landing. As if she would care - she had you somehow, didn't she, she's hardly a blushing prude?"

"Ugh, don't talk like that," He pulled a face. "And have you met my mother?"

"It's not an insult, I like your mother! I think she's hilarious, the way she talks to Father. And she's only slightly terrifying, now I know her better, but that's mainly because she's somehow made a friend of Cersei and I don't know how,"

"Slightly?" Ren disagreed. "I was always scared to death of Lord Bolton as a child, but that was nothing compared to when Mother got truly angry,"

"I've never heard her raise her voice?"

"She doesn't have to,"

"Oh, you've got to give me more than that,"

Ren thought for a moment. "I used to play with the servants' children often, in the Dreadfort. The steward's daughter, Annalise, was one of those spiteful children who knows when to whine to get their own way. She was hateful, everyone thought so, but her father was the most important so she got away with it. But then one day - I can't remember what it was she did, but it annoyed me so much I pushed her in the dirt and made her cry, for real this time. We must have been about eight - old enough that I was stronger than she was, given I'd started training at five. Mother saw it when she was crossing the yard,"

"I bet Lady Rosennis was so proud,"

"Hardly. She dragged me by the wrist to her chambers and gave me a sharp slap. She didn't often hit us, so it was quite a shock. She said something like 'a stronger person only hits someone weaker than themselves because they know they can't hit back', and her son would not grow up to be one of those people. I tried to say that Annalise provoked me, that it wasn't fair and she deserved it. Mother said that by hitting the girl, she had already won, as I had nothing more clever to say back to her,"

"Yes, you really shouldn't have hit an innocent young girl, Renan," He friend intoned like a Septon.

"Piss off,"

Loreon just laughed. "As I said, I like your mother. I think it's a waste, that women like her are married off to some lord - she would be excellent on the Small Council,"

Ren grinned. "When you, Loreon Storm, the King's bastard, get to choose who sits on the Small Council, I'm sure you'll be very grateful,"

*

Their journey took them to the castle of Raymun Darry. Camped outside the castle with the majority of the party, Ren had been sharpening Jaime's sword outside his tent when he saw the four children trudging past, looking rather worse for wear, two wolves skulking behind them. Crow, who was gnawing on a leftover pig bone beside him, rose when he saw his littermates approaching, trotting up and giving Lady a small, affectionate nip before barrelling into Nymeria, knocking her off course.

Ren frowned as the children drew closer. Sansa was crying quietly, Arya had a look on her face that could only be described as pure rage mixed with white-faced terror. Tommen was pale, and covered in dirt, whilst Morganna...

"What the fuck is that?" He was on his feet in an instant, moving over to his sister. Sansa winced slightly at his rough language, but he ignored her, grabbing Morganna's face and tilting it sideways, ignoring her protests. "Who did that to you?"

He'd kill whoever it was. Spreading across his little sister's face was a deep purple bruise, the skin broken in several places. You didn't get a bruise like that just from playing. That was worse than many of the deliberate injuries he had suffered in the training yard.

"Joffrey," Arya sounded as close to hysterical as he'd ever heard her, anger burning fiercely in her grey eyes alongside the fear. "He cut Mycah, so I threw his sword in the river and Nymeria nearly attacked him and - and - "

"Bloody hells," Ren cursed. "Where is that little prick now?" Why the hells is Tommen with them?

Sansa started crying again.

"We left him in the woods," Morganna, of all of them, only looked slightly shaken as she tossed her hair. Deliberately unconcerned, to tell the truth, which told him all he needed to know about how bad the situation was. His sister didn't take anything seriously. "It wasn't far away,"

"I still don't think we should have left him?" Sansa said tremulously. "What if - "

"Oh who cares?" Morganna snapped. "You can't still be mooning after him after this?" She jabbed a finger at her own bruised face. "You're meant to marry him, you'll probably be putting up with this for the rest of your life!"

Sansa opened her mouth to argue back - Tommen was conspicuously silent - but Ren cut them off.

"Someone will find him if he can't get back on his own," He didn't care much either way, trying to ignore the part of him that wanted nothing more than to go out with Crow and find the prince himself. That would end well for no one. As though sensing his mood, the wolf growled. "And when he does, it won't be pretty,"

All of them went a little more pale at that.

Ren sighed. "Come on, we'll go and find Lord Stark," He glanced at Tommen. "Go to your uncle. There'll be trouble if you don't go to your family straight away, and I can't imagine you fancy explaining to your mother what happened,"

Tommen went even paler, but did as he said.

Lord Eddard heard the jumbled version of events with a cold, stony expression that barely moved a muscle. From what Ren could gather, Arya and her friend the butcher's boy had been playing at swords by the river, using sticks. Joffrey, who had been walking with Sansa, found them, and starting picking on the butcher's boy like he did with anyone he deemed below him. Arya had been angry, and almost attacked him, but then Morganna - who had somehow ended up spending the afternoon with Tommen, he hadn't quite caught why - arrived.

His sister had laughed at the Prince - gods only know what she actually said - and he had lashed out with his sword in anger. Whichever idiot gave the boy live steel deserves to be flogged. Thankfully, Joffrey had only caught her with the hilt still held in his fist, and she fell to the floor, as the Prince laughed.

That was when Tommen had lost it. Ren blinked in surprise as Morganna recounted how the normally placid, friendly prince had leapt at his elder brother, seeming to follow Edrick's example from a few weeks ago and pushing him over. He's finally managed to grow a backbone... only took us five years. However Tommen, unlike Ren's brother, hadn't quite known what to do then, allowing Joffrey to start flailing around with his sword again. Arya had stamped on his arm to make him let go, the butcher boy had run away, and Morganna had thrown his sword in the river.

Ren had smirked at that. His uncle did not.

Before he could do anything more than ask if they all agreed with what had happened, they were interrupted by the arrival of a messenger, carrying a sharply-worded summons to Lord Darry's audience chamber. It was a royal seal, but it blatantly came from the Queen, not Robert.

The chamber was far too crowded for such a small matter. As darkness fell, the news spread that something was happening and more people flocked to the hall.

"Remember what I said," Ren hissed in his sister's ear, and she nodded, giving him a small grin. On the way there, he had told her to play the innocent victim. If she started making snide comments and jokes, she would turn people against her. "And don't look like you're enjoying it so much,"

Her grin fell in an instant, replaced by a sorrowful, hurt look. "Better?"

"Uncanny," Ren said, which she seemed pleased with. "Try and squeeze out a few tears, if you can," He patted her on the shoulder before taking his place in the crowd.

Sansa, Arya, and Morganna were stood before the King, who was slumped in Darry's high seat looking like he'd rather be anywhere else. The Queen and Joffrey were stood to his left, both their faces twisted in anger as they glared at the children stood before them. Sansa looked anxious, and Arya looked furious, but wide eyed and scared. Morganna, for all her faults, was a scarily convincing actress and looked a picture of wounded innocence. Tommen wasn't there at all, which was not promising, and he didn't see Jaime anywhere.

"What's all this about?" Loreon moved up to stand beside him.

"See my sister's black eye?" There was no humour in the look Ren gave his friend. "Your brother did that,"

Loreon hissed between his teeth. "I'll give him two for himself when I next catch him alone,"

"Good luck," Ren scoffed. "His mother won't let him out of the Hound's sight after this," He paused. "Anyway, I think my uncle will beat you to it,"

Lord Stark was furious, that was plain to see. "What is the meaning of this, Robert?" He coldly demanded, gesturing around the crowded chamber. "Is the matter to be made into a public spectacle?"

He spoke to the King, but it was Cersei who answered.

"How dare you speak to your King in that manner!" She sounded outraged, trying to undermine his uncle, but she had misjudged the situation. There was no chance of Robert siding with the wife he despised over the man he had considered a brother for decades.

"Quiet, woman," Sure enough, the King snapped at her impatiently. "I am sorry, Ned. I never meant to frighten the children. It seemed best to bring everyone here and get the business done with quickly,"

"Well then let's get it done with,"

"My son was attacked, Stark. Again," Was he. Cersei stared him down, or tried to. His uncle held her stare, one of the few who could. Surely the fact he had been attacked multiple times in the space of a month said more about Joffrey than anyone else. "By your feral daughter and - "

"That's not true," Arya said loudly. "We just took his sword. He was hurting Mycah and hit - "

"I do hope the Prince is alright," Morganna cut her off, with an admirable look of concern. "He had quite the fall earlier," Sly little thing, that one, wanting the reveal for herself. It would be a reveal, for Joffrey surely wouldn't have told anyone.

"Joff told us what happened," Cersei said imperiously. "You and the butcher boy beat him with clubs and threatened him with wolves," She looked that Arya then Morganna. "Then the Bolton girl stole his sword. Your mother would be ashamed of you, girl,"

Interesting, she hadn't mentioned Tommen. Perhaps she was deliberately leaving it out, not wanting to land her other son in trouble, but that seemed unlikely given that Joffrey was her favourite. At the very least, she should be accusing the girls of corrupting her younger son against his brother.

"That's not how it was," Arya sounded half angry and half terrified.

His uncle put a hand on his younger daughter's shoulder. Ren watched silently, glancing between the King, the Queen, Joffrey and his cousins. Morganna was doing much the same, peering around the room.

"Yes it is!" Joffrey insisted. "They attacked me, and she threw Lion's Tooth in the river!" The Prince threw a particularly vicious look at Morganna.

Cersei turned her glare on Ren's sister now, but the girl said nothing, just lifted her chin slightly. Again, no mention of Tommen. She doesn't know. It made sense. If Tommen had done as Ren had said and gone straight to Jaime, he wouldn't have had a chance to be interrogated by his mother - under which he would most definitely crack, the boy couldn't lie to save his life and would no doubt be feeling guilty about the whole thing - and Ren couldn't imagine Joffrey falling over himself to let the whole court know his timid younger brother, whom he so often tormented, had knocked him to the ground.

"Liar!" Arya had no such inhibitions about staying quiet.

"Arya, stop, you're ruining everything," Sansa protested.

She was drowned out by Joffrey yelling at Arya. "Shut up!"

"A mature, well-thought response from our future King to the nine-year-old daughter of a great lord," Loreon muttered beside him under his breath, and despite himself, Ren stifled a laugh.

"Enough!" Robert roared, rising from his seat, voice thick with irritation. Silence fell and the King turned to Morganna. "Now, child, as the most sensible one of this wittering lot, you will tell me what happened," Most sensible? Ha. "Tell it all, and tell it true. It is a great crime to lie to a King," Then he looked at Joffrey with thinly veiled dislike. "When she is done, you will have your turn. Until then, hold your tongue,"

Morganna gave a small, gracious smile. Ren knew it promised trouble.

"He hit me," She started off well, by pointing to her bruised face with a tearful sniff, which had purpled even more since they had come out of the woods.

"Who did?" Robert frowned.

She hesitated. "I don't want to get anyone in trouble,"

Ren knew his sister relished every word, though she made a good show of being a wide-eyed, innocent girl.

"Whoever bruised a young lady's eye like that deserves to be flogged," Robert scoffed. "Lady Rosennis would never forgive me if I let the one who lay hands on her daughter get away with it. Was it the butcher's boy?"

Morganna's lips twitched for half a second, not enough to break the illusion. This couldn't have gone more perfectly.

"No, it wasn't. I - I don't want to get into trouble," She glanced anxiously at Joffrey and Cersei.

Even Robert had the tact to catch on, swelling in fury. "Joffrey did that to you?"

Morganna looked bashfully at the ground, not denying it. There was an outburst of gasps and murmurs from the assembled crowd. Joffrey's face flushed a delicate crimson, and the Queen said nothing, glancing at her son sharply. Not because he'd hit a girl - Cersei wouldn't give two shits - but because he hadn't given her time to prepare his defence for it.

"That's what I was trying to say," Arya exclaimed, indignant. "He hurt Morganna! She was only laughing, and he hit her with his sword,"

Ren doubted very much that Morganna had only been laughing. His sister could come out with some truly vile things when she wanted to, designed to infuriate and cut deep. But the girl could've been beating an unarmed, crippled Joffrey around the head with a mace and he still would've taken her side.

"How do we know that that is the truth?" Cersei dismissed her smoothly. "Children injure themselves often,"

"That," His uncle said darkly. "Was made by a sword hilt,"

"And how are you certain, Lord Stark?" The Queen asked her, in that disdainful way she had managed to perfect. "It could be anything,"

"My sister Lady Rosennis had several marks much like that, after years at the mercy of Aerys Targaryen," His voice dropped a shade colder. "I know what such a bruise looks like, and I never wanted to see one on her daughter,"

Silence followed this. The implications of his words were obvious and even as Cersei sneered she glanced warily at Robert, who hadn't seemed to notice the comparison as he glowered at his son.

"You're all saying that Joffrey hit her?" He broke it, addressing the three girls.

They all nodded, though Sansa hesitated, head barely dipping once. She couldn't not do it, however, not with the proof in front of her, even if she had wanted to side with her betrothed. Ren hoped this had shaken her a little out of her stupid daydreams for Joffrey.

The King glowered at his son, but motioned to Morganna to continue, not unkindly. "Come on girl, tell the story,"

Ren's jaw tightened as it had the first time, as they all listened to Morganna talk. She had been bored, as Princess Myrcella was spending the day with her mother, and had found Tommen on his own too.

"Tommen wasn't there," Cersei interrupted.

Morganna frowned in feigned puzzlement. "Yes he was, your Grace,"

Arya and Sansa both nodded. Joffrey looked strained, perhaps starting to regret the public setting.

"Carry on," The King waved a hand.

Morganna continued. The two of them had wandered off together. Ren read between the lines there, picturing Tommen being dragged along by his sister, who was rather difficult to say no to. They had found Sansa in the woods with Joffrey; Morganna claimed her cousin invited them to join her and the Prince, but judging by the brief flicker of surprise on Sansa's face, that was news to her. She likely hadn't done anything of the sort, if anything the opposite, but Morganna had tagged along anyway. She seemed to delight in going out of her way to irritate people she did not like, so Joffrey must have been a challenge she couldn't walk away from.

Soon after, the four of them had come across Arya and the butcher's boy playing with sticks by the river. Joffrey had already been annoyed by Morganna being there. The girl didn't mention any provocation on her part, of course, though there undoubtedly would have been. Joffrey turned on the poor butcher's boy, drawing his sword and threatening him. Morganna had warned Arya off jumping to the boy's defence, telling her to keep her direwolf back or Nymeria would get defensive.

Horsehit, Ren thought with some amusement. She had already told them all in front of their uncle that she had laughed, saying mockingly to keep the wolf back or Nymeria wouldn't need to be fed for days.

In the tale she told to the King, however, Joffrey had then rounded on her, angry. She had got the better of him with words, and they had all laughed but Sansa, who started to cry. Furious, the Prince had lashed out at her with his sword hand, catching her cheek and eye with the hilt and knocking her to the floor. Morganna paused in her story.

"When I fell, Prince Tommen got quite angry at his brother," She eyed the Prince with a brief nasty gleam in her eye.

"Stop," Joffrey protested angrily. "You're lying. Mother, she's lying,"

No one paid him any attention except the Queen, who glanced at him sharply.

"He jumped at Prince Joffrey and knocked him over," Morganna said.

Several surprised murmurs and a few giggles rippled through the room. Tommen was well-liked throughout the court, being a friendly and sociable boy, but it was Joffrey who was feared, particular by the servants.

Arya had held down - not stamped on, Ren was glad to hear in this version - his wrist and Morganna had grabbed his flailing sword, throwing it in the river.

At this point in the retelling, Renly Baratheon laughed so much he had to leave the hall, whilst Robert just looked at a flushed Joffrey in disgust. Cersei opened her mouth to utter more expressions of outrage, but Robert waved her down.

Morganna finished with how the butcher's boy had run away, and left out how all four of them had left Joffrey squirming on the floor. She didn't use the word squirming, but the look in her eyes made it very clear that was what she meant.

Joffrey was pale facing his father's accusing stare as he began his very different version of events. He was trying to spend a nice afternoon with his betrothed, only to be harassed by the brazen Morganna Bolton and his annoying younger brother. He had been attacked by the butcher boy and the younger two girls, greatly injuring his wrist. Strange, how he would rather be beaten by two little girls than his brother.

When Joffrey was done talking, the King rose heavily from his seat, looking like a man who wanted to be anywhere but here.

"What in all the seven hells am I supposed to make of this? He says one thing, she says another,"

"The Stark children are wild," Cersei was saying. "The Boltons are worse - their mother would be ashamed of them. And their direwolves are savage beasts that deserve to be put down. You heard it out of the girl's own mouth, if she hadn't stopped it then the creature would have attacked our son. They would be a danger in the capital,"

"Fine," Robert shrugged. "Set the wolves loose, or send them away,"

Ren's uncle nodded, and the faces of both Arya and Sansa fell in disappointment. Arya tried to protest, but her father waved her down. Ren glared at the Queen, not that she would've noticed. He had grown quite used to his rangy black wolf, and had been looking forward to walking around the Red Keep with the beast at his heels. At least Loreon would be happy to have more space in the tent, he supposed.

"Is that all you plan to do?" Cersei exclaimed in outrage. "That Bolton boy attacked my son before, and now this. He is being targeted, unjustly. Joffrey claims the little Stark girl tried to break his wrist! Robert, I want her punished,"

"Seven hells," Robert swore. "Cersei, look at her. She's a child. What would you have me do, whip her through the streets? Damn it, children fight. It's over. No lasting harm was done,"

Joffrey was thirteen, hardly a child enough to be fighting a nine year old, but the queen was furious as ever nonetheless.

"Joff will live in fear whilst these savages are around him,"

"Just as the little girl he struck will fear him," Robert said coldly, though the brief scornful look in Morganna's eye said otherwise. "Maybe it'll teach him some humility. Ned, see that your daughter is disciplined. I will do the same with my son,"

"Gladly, your Grace," Ren's uncle no doubt felt lucky that his children had gotten off so lightly, considering how warped the tales that had been told were, but frowned that Joffrey had too.

Robert started to walk away, but the Prince was not done.

"What about her?" He called after him, desperate to see someone, anyone punished. "The other girl, who dared lay a hand on the heir to the throne,"

This is ridiculous. The King stopped, turned back and frowned, but Ren had already stepped forward. Enough was enough.

"My sister did nothing wrong," What were they going to do? Kill him? If anything, his uncle and mother had the King's favour. That counted for something, at least.

Cersei straightened at the sharp tone directed at her son, disdainful eyes flickering to him. She knew him as Jaime's squire, Lady Rosennis' bastard son, but they had never spoken. He knew her better than she knew him.

"And how did you possibly come to that conclusion, boy?"

"Go on, bastard," Joffrey was vindictive, vicious. "Explain how she almost crippled my wrist and threw my sword in the river,"

Ren didn't rise to the bait, pointedly turning to the Queen over Joffrey. Everyone was staring at him.

"My mother speaks very highly of you, your Grace," He said. His Northern accent - strong even after all his time in King's Landing - seemed even stronger against Cersei's polished southron tones. "When my brother Edrick struck the Prince for a few minor insults, she punished him duly. I am sure she would appreciate that, when her daughter - who is younger and smaller than the Prince - was struck with the hilt of a live steel sword, she should not be punished for throwing said sword in a river to avoid anyone getting more seriously hurt,"

There was a heavy pause, where Joffrey reddened in anger, and Cersei stared down at Ren, trying to work out his intentions.

"Quite right. Enough of this," Robert rumbled wearily before she could reply. Ren counted that as a victory. "Cersei, hold your tongue. Ned, punish the girl if you want, I couldn't give two shits. Although I'd get her a poultice first. Ha, I should have Joffrey do it. Teach him some respect,"

Chuckling darkly, the King left the room.

*

They all gathered around his uncle after the audience was over, and stayed well into the evening. Ren, Sansa, Arya and Morganna. The Stark girls were a little teary - even Arya though she tried to hide it - as the direwolves had already been sent on their way back to Winterfell with a (brave) escort. Nymeria and Crow had to be caged like rabid dogs, as they were so determined to stay. Lady was much more gracious and was allowed to trot alongside the wagon.

"Why do you have to ruin everything?" Sansa snapped at Arya and Morganna both. "I was having such a lovely day. Now what must the Prince think of me?"

"Joffrey didn't have to start bullying Micah," Morganna said. "You'd have carried on having a lovely day if he hadn't,"

"But he was right, Arya shouldn't have been playing swords with a peasant boy!"

"It's none of your business!" Arya protested, angry. "I hate your awful Prince. He's mean and awful, and a crybaby,"

As Sansa gasped in outrage, Lord Stark stepped in.

"Stop it, girls," They all quieted at his stern tone. "Sansa, I understand that you're upset. But from what I heard today, Joffrey was in the wrong - " He held up a hand, anticipating her protest. "Not that Arya and Morganna should have reacted as they did. Next time something like this starts to happen, all of you don't say a word, and come straight to me,"

The girls all nodded unhappily.

"You are family," His uncle said. "Your Aunt Ross used to bicker with our sister Lyanna when they were children. They were very different, much as you all are. Ross liked to abide by the rules, and Lyanna... did not. But they loved each other more than anything, and when Lyanna died, Ross missed her more than anyone,"

"Mother doesn't talk about Lyanna often," Morganna mumbled.

"Neither do you, Father," Sansa said.

"Lya's death broke her heart," Lord Stark said. "As it did all of us," He turned to Ren. "You met her, Ren, briefly,"

"I did?" That was the first he heard of it.

His uncle smiled faintly. "I left King's Landing a few days after the Mad King was killed - I believe you were there for that too. I found her sat on the steps of the Iron Throne, with you in her arms, the Kingslayer sat on the throne itself, and Aerys - " He broke off, as though he had said too much.

"Aerys what?" Arya asked, eager for gory stories.

Lord Stark glanced at Sansa, who actually looked curious, before continuing. "Aerys was lying dead in a pool of blood at her feet. Then Ross smiled - I wasn't sure if it was at me, or at the King,"

The idea of his mother, not much older than he was now, being present for such a world-altering event - with him as an infant - was hard to wrap his head around. He knew Jaime had killed a King, but imagining the man he knew actually committing the act... Aerys Targaryen had not been kind to his mother, but the idea of her smiling over his corpse was - well, quite believable now he thought of it.

"What about Lyanna?" Morganna said into the silence.

"Yes," Their uncle said. "Ross didn't want to stay in the Red Keep any longer. A few days later, we left to find Lyanna. She insisted on taking you, Ren - she didn't trust anyone to keep you safe. You were a year old, and she was... weak from being a prisoner, even skinnier than she is now, but she strapped you to her chest and kept up with the rest of us for weeks on the road,"

"Of course she did," Arya said, as though that was obvious. "Aunt Ross is the best rider in Westeros,"

"Quite," He smiled. "We found Lyanna, eventually, in a tower in Dorne. She was... very sick. But she still had it in her to be astonished and laugh when her rule-abiding sister turned up with a baby strapped to her chest. I am sorry none of you ever got to know her,"

This was quite the insight into Ren's own childhood that he had never got before. Once the girls had been sent to bed, he remained up with his uncle for a while longer.

"I know it's not my place to say," He started. "But I can't keep it quiet, if Sansa is to marry him some day. Joffrey is a monster. This isn't a petty childhood rivalry - he is truly evil. The misery he has inflicted on his brother in particular is... concerning. He tortures animals for fun. He once cut open a pregnant cat to see what it looked like inside. He puts up a good act when he wants to, but you've seen what happens when he loses his temper twice now. At this is him at thirteen - imagine him as a King, at thirty, with no one to keep him in check. Sansa is a gentle girl - he'll destroy her,"

His uncle didn't dismiss the words of his bastard nephew, as he could easily have done. "I have been concerned of the same thing myself, though your words only add to that. Thank you for telling me,"

Ren dared to push further. "The King is your friend - surely he would not take too much offence to breaking the betrothal?"

Lord Stark sighed. "Not if I phrased it like you just did - out of concern for my daughter. He has no love for Joffrey. But... I will need to think on the matter. It would not be beneficial to earn the enmity of the Lannisters right before entering King's Landing,"

"Of course," Ren glanced out of the window, frowning. Then, alarmed, he got to his feet and peered out into the lanternlit courtyard. A hulking figure was riding in, with an awfully familiar bundle on the back of his horse. "They killed him," He said, numb. "Arya's friend,"

"The butcher's boy?" His uncle frowned, getting to his feet and looking outside too. "Who did it?"

"The Hound. Saints, the boy looks near cut in half,"

"He rode him down," Lord Stark said grimly.

It was an unpleasant thought. The boy must've been terrified, on foot and defenceless as an armoured knight galloped behind him, a greatsword swinging, splitting him from shoulder to hip. No one cared enough to save him. But Ren would rather that boy died than his sister or cousins suffer.

"I'm glad the girls didn't see that,"

"Aye," His uncle pulled the drapes closed. "Nasty business,"

*

Edited November 2024