Book 1: Prints in the Snow

Chapter XX • Religious Experiences

Lyon had unpacked her belongings when she reached her chambers. Slowly, trying to keep her fears from churning her stomach. Robert Baratheon was likely on his deathbed. There would be no leaving Kingslanding for a long while yet. Seeing Bran would have to wait. She supposed that was alright. Lyon still had quite a bit of unfinished business.

She left her rooms to wander the halls idly. A guard followed her mindlessly and she did little to pay him any mind. He was the same that accompanied her before- the one who shared the sight of Robert Baratheon's bloodied body. Soon to be a corpse, she thought.

"I wish to see my father." She said to nobody in particular, but the guard suddenly took the lead and she followed. Through the halls, he led her, until they stood before her father's chambers. "Remain outside." She ordered, and the guard relented as she slipped inside without even a knock.

The room was empty. No hair in sight of Ned Stark- he was probably seeing to the King. She decided to sit and wait, even as the door slipped open and a hand found her shoulder. Lyon turned her head slightly and sighed.

"My assignment has been dealt with."

"So it has." Raphael mused. He sauntered to the desk, catching eye of haphazardly strewn paperwork. He sat before her, upon Ned's desk. "You did well, but there's only so much praise I can give you. The body was found almost immediately after. It speaks of sloppiness."

"You never said I had to do anything but kill him."

"In our line of work, there is a reputation to uphold. If his body had been disposed of then no one would know it was a murder. We don't want to guard coming and investigating. If we left everybody we dealt with out in the open we wouldn't be operational, would we?"

"I... I suppose not." She replied.

Raphael beamed. He reached a hand, taking hold of her chin. "Such a good girl. And as assured, your little sister Arya will be kept safe and sound. You have my word. Now, I assume you wish to continue with your work."

Lyon bit back the bile that was rising. "Of course."

"Good, good. There is a woman, Alaya. She's a... competition of sorts. But messy. Very, very messy. She'll likely be tailing noblemen and women who venture into the market. You see, stealing their belongings isn't enough for her. The thrill of the kill sates her for a time, but it's been a while since we've last heard tell of her. Do as you do. Patrol the market place, it won't be strange. Everyone knows Lyon Stark is fond of shopping by now."

Raphael rose as footsteps began to advance down the hall. He lifted his eyes, then they darted to the window. "I'll be seeing you shortly."

His apparel was a blur as he swept out of the window and disappeared, and at the same time, Ned Stark entered his rooms.

"Lyon-" he uttered, brows high in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

It didn't take long for her recollect her senses. "The King lays on his death bed, doesn't he?"

Her forwardness was beginning to deter him, what with the day's occurrences. "Yes."

"And Joffrey will be king?"

Ned came forward at sat at his desk adjacent to Lyon. He eyed the parchment in his hand, shaking his head. "Joffrey will not be king until he comes of age. Until then, Robert has named me protector of the realm in his passing."

"How lucky for us then. Here I was, packing my things when... King Robert Baratheon is marched into the Red Keep, bleeding like a-"

"Lyon."