Game of Thrones: The Storm

S1E4 - Cripples, Bastards, and Broken Things

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The Hand's tournament was inching closer every day. The streets of King's Landing were filled twice as much as they usually were. People flooded in from all over Westeros, some of them to participate in the Hand's Tournament, while most came just to spectate.

You were reading, or doing your best to read, a book that you had stolen from Maester Pycelle while sitting in a large tree in the middle of the castle gardens.

You thought it was the best place to have some peace and quiet. Your father never went there, and neither did Joffrey, meaning that everyone else with the slightest bit of importance rarely decided to just randomly take a stroll through it.

That was until you heard the ever-annoying sound of Littlefinger. You hadn't known the weaselly little man for very long, but just the short impression he made, put a bad taste in your mouth.

"Is there someone in your service whom you trust completely?" You heard Littlefinger ask. Slowly and quietly, you closed your book and shifted so that your body was more out of sight.

"Yes."

You recognized Ned Stark's voice as well as you held your breath and listened closely. It was all too obvious that Littlefinger was plotting something, he just had that ever mischievous smirk, and it always looked like he had something plotting inside his head. 

There were even a few times before you all rode North, where you had walked into the throne room and seen him just staring at the Iron Throne. As if he yearned for it.

"The wiser answer was no, my Lord," Littlefinger told Lord Stark. "Get a message to this paragon of yours, discreetly. Send him to question Ser Hugh. After that, you might want him to visit a certain armorer in the city. He lives in a large house at the top of the Street of Steel."

"Why?"

"I have my observers, as I said, and it's possible that they saw Lord Arryn visit this armorer several times in the weeks before his death," Littlefinger continued as your interest had hit its peak.

"Lord Baelish, perhaps I was wrong to distrust you," Lord Stark said, his voice laced with shame.

"Distrusting me was the wisest thing you've done since you climbed off your horse."

When you heard the sound of light footsteps walking away, you took it as your cue that Littlefinger had finally walked away, leaving Lord Stark to his own devices. When you heard Lord Stark finally walk away, you waited a few minutes more to finally climb down from the tree, leaving the book so you could come back to it later.

After you left the gardens though, you quickly made your way to the stables to get one of your horses.

After picking out a horse, you tacked them up in a hurry so that you didn't run into Lord Stark or whomever he was having go talk to Ser Hugh.

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When you finally arrived at the Tournament grounds, you hitched your horse near the stands where your father and the rest of the nobility in King's Landing were to be seated.

When you seen the pompous prick counting the steps of the jousting track, you could only assume it was Ser Hugh. You met him once when he was a squire, but you remembered his blonde hair and his tall, thin disposition. He wasn't hard to miss anyways, wearing all blue, the same blue from house Arryn.

As you observed him from afar, you noticed the captain of Lord Starks guard approach Ser Hugh.

"Ser Hugh?" Jory asked but was immediately ignored as Hugh continued to count his steps. "Ser Hugh!"