WARS TO COME, game of thrones

𝐕𝐈. capital

And so Anrir finally ended up back in his chambers in the Red Keep, where he had already spent the nights during the days after his father's funeral.

The maids were also the same, only this time clothes had finally been brought from Riverfall.

The journey had been long, and the incident with Joffrey and the butcher's boy that led to the execution of Sansa's direwolf had made for a noticeably tense atmosphere. Now Anrir was just glad to be able to wash and shave in peace, to slip into clothes that weren't just practical. He had never thought that the first few days in the capital could be so pleasant.

And so Anrir now rested on a divan, still wearing only a loose shirt and soft trousers of the same fabric, and unfolded the letter that Lark had brought him.

"She really did it," Anrir murmured in disbelief, "Lysa banishes me from the Eyrie." The letter from his stepmother - an unpleasant thing to call her - was brief and consisted only of the message that Anrir had been stripped of all his offices in House Arryn and would no longer be welcome in the Eyrie.

"Will she also remove he soldiers from Riverfall? And my village... the villages?" Lark asked, and Anrir was only more worried that the knight sounded seriously concerned.

"She wouldn't dare," Anrir muttered and stood up, stepping to the window. His gaze slid over the capital, the foul smell of which still reached him. He wrinkled his nose.

He had to assess his options.

There was no way he could leave Kings Landing now, Robert wouldn't let him. And he knew that his maester was a loyal representative. He briefly weighed up the idea of sending Lark to tell those who remained in Riverfall that they should hold their ground. That he would be able to take care of the surrounding villages despite everything. He took a breath, then began to draft a letter.

Lark would stay here. Otherwise he would be all alone in this corrupt city.

He pressed the note into his faithful knight's hand. "Send a raven. It won't change anything."

The older knight didn't show if he had any doubts and just nodded. Anrir felt a sudden sense of gratitude for the loyalty this man had shown him.

Still, worry took a firm place in his mind. A warm breeze filtered through the window to him and he missed the pleasant coolness and soothing song of the waterfall he would find back home. Ned was probably in a meeting of the small council right now. He was a little amused by the idea of the taciturn Northman meeting men like Varys or Maester Pycelle for the first time. He himself was glad not to be invited. He didn't particularly like Littlefinger or any of Robert's advisors. At the same time, it reminded him of how little he meant here in the capital now that he was no longer his father's representative.

He knocked on the door and Anrir was torn from his thoughts, calling out a little hoarsely: "Come in?"

To his surprise, Ned entered. His first days in the capital seemed to have been less than gentle. He looked sweaty and tense. "We..." Ned let his eyes wander over Anrir's, his shirt open. "Need to talk," his childhood friend finally continued and Anrir interrupted him before Ned could stammer further awkwardly. "Good, sit down, I'll change."

With that, he disappeared into the adjoining room where he slept and which the maids had filled with his robes from Riverfall. He opted for a black overcoat, embroidered with silver threads on the sleeves and back. His hair was quickly tamed and a little later he joined Ned. "Shall we walk a little?" he offered the Northman, knowing that in the safety of his chambers he would probably be too distracted by the possibility of removing Ned's clothes and taking him here and now on this divan.