The Long Winter | Jaime Lannister X Stark OC | GOT/ASOIAF

Not My Place

The news was all around the court almost as soon as it had happened. Most events here made it to the gossip mill fast, although in this case, it wasn't like anyone involved had bothered to keep their voices down. As far as Ren had heard it - from, but not limited to, a serving maid, stable boy, several squires and Renly Baratheon himself, who had been laughing about the matter in a courtyard - the Hand had resigned, right before the furious king ordered (yelled) his dismissal, in protest against killing Aerys Targaryen's exiled daughter, pregnant with a Dothraki horselord's child.

Ren understood where his uncle was coming from. It wasn't pleasant to consider the murder of a young girl, a similar age to his sister Aileen, let alone a girl who was with child. Daenerys Targaryen had not yet proven to be a threat, though her very existence was dangerous to the Baratheon crown.

He also understood Lord Stark's distaste at sending a nameless assassin to do their dirty work for them. Ren would feel a similar way if it were up to him. He wasn't sure if that was a Northern principle, or one learned from all the people he'd grown up with. Jaime was another one who would insist on swinging the sword himself, although that was more a matter of pride than one of respect. Both men's motivations - ironically, considering they hated each other - were a matter of honour.

Despite all this, the girl had to die. It wasn't a nice or easy solution, but it was a practical one. Daenerys might not be a threat yet, but who knew where they would be in a year, five years, even ten? Ren would go and stab the girl in the heart himself if it eliminated the possibility of forty thousand Dothraki screamers crossing the Narrow Sea and wrecking havoc, destroying the Seven Kingdoms like they had wiped out so many civilisations in Essos, killing and raping for the sake of it, blood for the sake of blood. And as his mother would say, the Targaryen's blood itself was tainted with madness and cruelty, fed by power and unfit to rule. His mother was not an unreasonable woman, and had good reasons to hate. No dragon would ever sit the Iron Throne whilst Rosennis Stark lived, that was for sure.

But what was done was done. Robert would send assassins after the Targaryens regardless of his friend's views, as Lord Stark was Hand of the King no longer. Which, to Ren, was a blessing, given the nature of what the man was investigating. It would end in chaos one way or another. Best that didn't happen whilst Sansa, Arya and Morganna were caught in the middle of it. Ren had enjoyed having his family here, strange as it had been to have his two worlds collide, but now it was increasingly a risk. If he was alone, it would be fairly easy for him to slip out of the city unnoticed if it came to it, but it wasn't so easy with an entire household and three young, highborn girls. Once his family were shipped off back to Winterfell, far out of reach, then let the whole court implode.

Ren had learned not to rely on court gossip, so had gone to try to find his uncle, to ask him himself what had happened. It couldn't have just been a simple argument to have the King removing his closest friend from office, the one person save perhaps Renly and Loreon who Robert actually gave a shit about in this place.

Upon arriving at the Tower of the Hand, though, Ren was surprised to find that none of the Starks were even there. Arya was in a dancing lesson; he was still surprised not only that his tomboyish cousin had agreed to these lessons, but that she was actually enjoying them, going for hours every day and talking excitedly about her dancing master every time he saw her. Sansa as with the Septa and her friend from Winterfell, the dark haired steward's daughter, Jeyne. And Morganna was with the Princess.

It was Lord Stark's whereabouts that troubled him now, however. His uncle had supposedly left the small council chambers in a fury, the King's angry words at his back, and should be here, wound up and making preparations to leave for the North as soon as possible. But he wasn't anywhere to be found. Whilst searching the tower for any trace of Lord Stark, the heavy book on the desk in the Hand's solar couldn't help but catch his eye. It was hardly light reading, even if you enjoyed books, which his uncle did not. An odd thing to keep out. Out of curiosity, Ren glanced at the cover. The Lineages and Histories of the Great Houses of the Seven Kingdoms, by Grand Maester Malleon. Well that looked absolutely anything but interesting.