Trials and Tribulations of the Oathkeeper

Chapter 43: Old Rivalries and a Bitter Cold

―At King's Landing―

Red Keep ― Royal apartments...

Arya Stark had been running around the Red Keep, either it is chasing cats or gathering whatever necessities her sister Sansa's been asking for. Ever since she learned she was going to be an aunt, Arya playfully tried to play it down – but deep down, she was happy; despite finding Sansa's demands to be seemingly overbearing with her backaches, aching feet, vomiting, emotional mood swings and strange cravings.

Ugh! So many demands! Guess this is what it's like.

She would have normally searched for Bodrin since he was one of King Daveth's contacts in the city, but he was nowhere to be found. Still, Arya kept searching for someone – until she found herself wandering about the Tower of the Hand. Stepping inside the building again, brought forth bitter sweet memories of when her late father Lord Eddard Stark was Hand of the King. Now, Lord Tywin Lannister resides here. It made her somewhat upset, yet ever more determined – if not daring.

Arya pulled out a scroll from her pockets and reviewed the list of supplies she'd have to get. Herbs... check. Pillows... check. Water... check. Lemon cakes... check. Ink and quill... uncheck. Hopefully there were at least a couple of spares lying about. Surely Tywin wouldn't mind; he is the King's grandfather, after all. Still, the young she-wolf wasn't going to take any chances with him despite his reputation. Utilizing her keen senses as well as her familiarity with her surroundings, Arya swiftly yet stealthily snuck past Tywin's guards and made her way into his chambers. She took a moment to observe the area; Seven hells, how things have changed this past year. Wherever she looked, she saw lion sigils around the halls. Lannister. That's who she found herself surrounded by. Time was of the essence, Arya reminded herself. Tywin or his guards could be back at any moment.

Just grab what you're looking for and get out!

Looking at the desk, Arya searched one drawer after another until she found an extra ink and quill. Feeling herself sigh with relief, Arya was beginning to turn away until a certain parchment caught her eyes. Leaning in to get a closer look, Arya took up and read the parchment.

'Moving the Lannister and Rewyne fleets north past Fair Isle. Estimate to reach the Iron Islands and Seagard in four days, three if we have the wind. Will establish a blockade around the perimeter to prevent our forces on the mainland from getting overwhelmed.

Scouts report His Grace, the King, moving troops through the Trident on foot with the intent on ensnaring Moat Cailin in a pincer attack coordinated with Robb Stark.

Once Moat Cailin is secure, pick up His Grace and his soldiers at Seagard and commence a full invasion of the Iron Islands.'

It wasn't much, but Arya knew that every bit of news she could find would help lift whatever worry Sansa must be feeling. After all, her husband and their brother are out there on the battlefield, and Arya resolved to do whatever she could. Taking a moment to make sure the coast was clear, she rolled up the parchment and stuck it in her pocket before making her way out of the Hand of the King's office. On her way back to the Red Keep, however, she wasn't paying attention and bumped into one of Tywin's bannermen, Ser Amory Loch, and stumbled onto the floor. The knight is described as a cruel, simple and small portly man of average height, as well as having a pale piggy face with small pig-like eyes, and a high, thin voice. Ser Amory looked behind him and noticed Arya looking up at him.

"What are you doing here?" Amory gruffly demanded, grabbing Arya's arm and yanking her up.

Arya knew she was exposed and was in a very precarious position. She had to think of a way to get out real fast, and make her excuse a rather convincing one. "I got lost, ser. I'm sorry. I'll leave at once," she lied.