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The Last King by Greed720
 Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Game of Thrones Xover Rated: M, English, Percy J., Words: 184k+, Favs: 4k+, Follows: 5k+, Published: Jan 22, 2018 Updated: Oct 27 1,644Chapter 7
AN: So here is the next chapter, hope you all enjoy it. Originally I was hoping to update 'The Asura', my My Hero Academia/Naruto crossover, unfortunately I could only do about half of it before I got stuck. So instead of forcing that story, I decided to update this story. As with this one I have so many ideas I can't help my self.
But anyway, here is the next chapter, I hope you all enjoy it. Please leave a comment or a review at the end please.
Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or Game of Thrones.
( - )
(Last Time)
"Not that this really has anything to do with us. After all the boy is Lord Stark's son." Tyrion spoke up dryly, before giving Jamie a frown. "And as a 'cripple' myself, I would just like to say that for once I agree with Tytan."
"Ok fine, I was just saying." Jamie said as he raised his hands up in front of him.
Tytan rolled his eyes as he heard that, but let the issue drop. After all Tyrion was right, this had nothing to do with them, it was up to Ned Stark what would happen.
"And personally I would be very interested in hearing what the boy has to say when he awakens." Tyrion continued, looking between his two elder siblings as he did so.
"Can we drop this for now, it's hardly a pleasant conversation for breakfast." Cersei suddenly replied, as she cast a gaze over the table. Silencing the others for a moment as the family ate their meal in silence for a few minutes, before conversation began again, only this time focusing on the imminent journey back to King's Landing.
( - )
Chapter 7
( - )
(Sometime Later, In the North)
The Royal Processions departure from Winterfell had been somewhat of a demure affair, especially when compared with their dramatic arrival a few days before. Though considering what had happened the day before they left, then maybe the reasons behind the column's quieter exodus were somewhat understandable. After all one of the Stark family son's was comatose, and many presumed not long for this world.
Still despite their swift and somewhat solemn departure, Tytan had taken the time to say his farewells to some of the people he had come to know over his time at Winterfell. Including young Robb, the Prince and the Stark Heir having become quite friendly over the short course of the King's stay. Then there was Roz, the whore, who after he had had another quick shag, he had given a golden necklace and told her to seek him out if she ever decided to come to King's Landing.
Tytan having become very fond of the beautiful, quick-witted girl. So much so that he had been tempted to invite her back to King's Landing with him, and have her as a live in mistress. Though in the end he had not made the offer, partly because he didn't want to put her in the awkward position of having to refuse the Crown Prince if she didn't' want to come, and partly because he didn't quite trust his father not to try something on with her when they were on the road. Which is why he had instead made her the offer if she ever found herself wanting to head south.
After his goodbyes to those he had come to care about, Tytan had then also, as propriety dictated, given his regards to Lady Catelyn Stark and her children, Rickon her youngest, and Bran who was still comatose. After all these were the only Stark's who were remaining in the North, as both Arya and Sansa were joining their father in King's Landing.
The exact reasons why Stark was bringing the two girls was a bit lost on Tytan, but a part of him suspected that Ned Stark might be hoping to find matches for his daughters whilst in King's Landing, after all neither of them were betrothed, or at least they weren't as far as Tytan was aware.
Though of course that wasn't without trying on the part of Robert, who Tytan knew had attempted to set up a marriage between Sansa and Tytan. The fat King having been hoping to bind his and Ned's House's together through blood.
How Tytan knew that was simple, Robert had bluntly told Tytan he was going to do so on the ride up to Winterfell. To which Tytan had replied by politely telling him to piss off. Surprisingly Robert had seemed to listen to as he had backed off the idea, though that might have also been because Cersei weighed in with her opinion. Making it clear that marrying Tytan off to the Stark girl made no sense, after all the North was already loyal to Robert due to his friendship with Ned Stark.
Either way, that brief conversation with his mother and father was the last Tytan had heard on the matter. So as far as he knew he didn't have any matches yet. Though his Uncle Renly kept trying to make a match between Tytan and Margery Tyrell, which Tytan wasn't necessarily against, only he would generally want to get to know the person he was going to marry beforehand, which seemed unlikely considering the Tyrell maiden rarely if ever left Highgarden, her House's seat of power, and Tytan had never really had the urge to visit.
( - )
Pushing those thoughts out of his head for now, Tytan instead concentrated on the here and now. After all currently Tytan, Jamie and his guardsmen were riding down a small track that wound its way through a thickly wooded area in the North. The group of eight having travelled many leagues away from the King's Road that the Royal procession was using.
The reason for this of course, was because Tytan had grown bored of the column's slow pace. It had been over a month since they had left Winterfell and they were still deep within the North. The Queen and King once again competing to see which of them could be the bigger pain in the arse when it came to delaying the column's progress.
For the first few weeks Tytan had stayed with the column, alternating between scouting ahead and riding alongside either his mother's carriage, where he would either entertain Tommen and Myrcella with heavily edited stories from his life as a Demigod, or subtly mocking Joffrey. Though he had to be careful with his mocking, as Cersei was protective of all her children, and Tytan wanted to avoid the embarrassment of being lectured by his mother. Not because her words would do anything, no, it was mainly because when it did happen he could sense his Uncle and friends around him hiding smirks and laughter at his expense.
For the most part though, very little of interest had happened so far on the procession's journey south. In fact one of the few things that did happen was, that a couple of days from Winterfell, Tyrion had announced that he was going to be accompanying Jon Snow to the Wall. Not to join the Night's Watch of course, but more for a bit of sightseeing.
After hearing what his Uncle was up to, Tytan had had to bite back his amusement, especially after hearing how his Uncle was planning on pissing off the Wall.
Still though he had gone to see his Uncle off, as although Tyrion might not be his favourite family member, he was still family and Percy would always remain loyal to his family. He had also tkaken the opportunities to say his goodbyes to Jon Snow, not that the dour boy had seemed that enthusiastic about going or about talking to Tytan, in fact he had seemed more serious and miserable than ever. Of course it was this attitude and his general lack of charisma or personality that made it so Tytan never really warmed up to the bastard, certainly not enough to offer him employment as one of Tytan's guardsmen.
That though had been more than a week ago, and practically nothing had happened since then as the column had simply meandered down the King's Road, occasionally stopping so Robert could go hunting, or so they could setup the camp for the night.
A month that had been about all that Tytan could take before he had gotten bored and decided to break away from the procession and explore a bit more of the North. Of course he had informed the fat man and his mother what he was doing. Not that Robert had paid much interest, instead he had just given Tytan a brief nod before going back to his conversation with Ned Stark. His mother had been a bit more concerned, though that was likely more because Tytan was taking Jamie with him than any concern that he might be in danger, though he of course didn't mention that to her.
That had been a few days ago, and was why Tytan and the other seven were riding alone through the forest. All of them wearing mail and armour, though fortunately Jamie had left behind his Kingsguard armour and had instead replaced it with a set of Lannister guardsmen's armour. After all a set of clearly expensive golden, coloured armour was not that discreet and would make them a target if spotted by some well-informed bandits who would know his presence likely meant Royalty. Which when there were only eight of them, was something to keep in mind.
As for Tytan himself, he was back in his mail and leather armour. His mail now gleaming silver after having been scoured with vinegar by one of the Royal servants. His dark leather armour also having somewhat of a gleam due to it recently having been polished. The procession's departure might have been low-key, but impressions had to be maintained, or at least that is what Cersei said.
Around his waist Tytan had his longsword belted on his right hip and a long dagger on his left. On top of that he also had a hunting spear holstered onto the side of his warhorse, not because he was looking to do any hunting, but more because he was crap with a bow and he preferred to have some sort of long ranged weapon to fall back on if necessary.
The rest of Tytan's group were similarly armed with an assortment of their preferred weaponry, all of them riding large warhorses and wearing armour, not particularly inconspicuous, but then again they weren't trying to be. Eight heavily armoured soldiers weren't an attractive target for bandits, with many likely seeing them as more trouble than they were worth.
"So I'm curious, are we going anywhere in particular or just riding for the sake of riding?" Jamie spoke up calmly, breaking the silence of the last hour or so as he looked over at his Nephew.
"We're exploring" Tytan replied easily, a grin on his face as he looked around the quiet forest. "Besides it's not that bad, we get warm beds and good ale in the evening, far better than staying in tents and drinking that watered down piss they call ale back at the column."
"He makes a good point." Ivar chipped in with a grin, and Tytan did, after all the group had been staying at Inns and taverns for the last few days, which were far more comfortable that it would have been had they stay with the procession and slept in tents.
"I know but I would prefer if we have a destination, aimlessly wandering is almost as bad as being back with the column." Jamie replied as he looked over at the sly looking blonde, before turning back to his Nephew.
"You exaggerate." Tytan replied blandly, as he and his party continued to move through the woods, the only sound that could be heard, apart from their conversation, being the whistle of wind and the clump of their horse's hooves striking earth.
Opening his mouth, Jamie was about to make another snide comment. Not because he was really that bothered by the situation, but more because he enjoyed a bit of verbal jousting with his Nephew. However before he could, he was cut off by the distant sound of a scream, followed by the faint barking of dogs. The silence of the forest having been well and truly broken now.
Twisting in his saddle, Tytan immediately locked onto the direction the sound came from. All previous cheer gone from his face, as his jaw clenched and his fists tightened on his reins. Already he could feel his blood pumping faster, his heart beginning to beat faster at the prospect of a fight. His Demigod spirit coming to the fore.
"Well it appears now we have an aim, Uncle." Tytan spoke up, his voice holding a hardness it lacked before.
"I'd advise caution Nephew, we don't know what may be happening, or why." Jamie replied, though like his Nephew he had tensed up at the sound, his right hand unconsciously moving to the sword he had sheathed at his hip.
"Well there's only one way to find out then, isn't there?" Tytan responded with a devilish grin, before he dug his heels into the flanks of his horse, ignoring its irritable complaining, as he goaded it move faster. The rest of his party matching his pace.
( - )
(Deeper within the forest)
Another scream sounded out in the forest, as a half-naked young woman ran through the woods. Her eyes wide with fear, and blurred by the tears that uncontrollably streamed from them. Her breath coming out in exhausted pants as she forced herself to continue running, the only thing driving her forward being her terror fueled adrenaline.
Behind the girl, the barking and howling of the dogs grew louder. As to did the sounds of laughter, and the beat of hooves. Her pursuers were closing in on her, deep down the girl knew she would not escape. Very few ever did escape him.
Still the thought of what would happen to her if she was caught drove her on. After all a quick death was the best outcome should her hunters find her, getting eaten alive by the hunting dogs that was the fate that was more likely.
Stumbling slightly as she ran, the girl let out a loud shout as her foot plunged through the mossy ground, her ankle twisting as it got caught up in the gnarled roots of a tree.
Letting out a scream of despair as she fell to the floor, the girl once again tried to force herself back to her feet. Her ankle throbbing with pain, and her breaths coming out even more ragged as she stumbled to her feet and risked looking back. Her brown eyes wide with fear, and her long brown hair matted to her skull with sweat.
Behind her the howls of the dogs sounded again, this time were a lot closer. So close in fact she could hear their loud panting breaths and the rustle of leaves and branches as they chased after her scent. She could also hear the dozen or so people chasing her. Half of them on horseback, the other half on foot.
Turning the girl lunged forward, trying to once again lose them in the woods. As she did though, she put weight on her ankle, which caused her to let out an involuntary shout of pain as she sagged against the tree. Her injured ankle not being able to fully support her weight.
Once again the dogs howled, the great, black beast now partially visible as they flitted through the trees.
Pushing herself up again, the girl once more attempted to flee. Before she could though, she was brought up short by an arrow striking her in the side. The force of the blow knocking her to the ground with a scream, the arrow finding its way through her rips and penetrating deep into her chest.
Yet more laughter followed this as the dogs finally caught up to her, there masters following after them.
Looking up, one hand clasped to her side, trying to stop the blood from flowing out her wound. The girl looked at her attackers. Eleven of them were lightly armoured men, with pale northern complexions and leering, pock marked, scarred faces. All of them were wearing leather hunting clothes, and were armed with swords and spears, with a few of them, including their leader carrying bows.
The leader of the group was as dark haired and pale as the others, with short dark coloured hair, a wispy beard, slightly protuberant blue eyes and sneering mouth full of slightly yellowed teeth. He was dressed slightly more richly than the others, with him wearing a leather armour over the top of chain mail. A castle forged steel blade sheathed at his right hip, and a finely crafted bow in his hand. A look of cruel amusement evident in his cold eyes as he looked down at her, glorying in her pain.
The final member of the group was a girl, maybe sixteen, with lank, stringy, dark coloured hair and pale skin. Like the leader she was armed with both a bow and wore cruel smirk across her plain face.
"Looks like we caught the little bitch!" The girl called out, her voice filled with mockery as she knocked another arrow and pulled back the string.
"It was a good shot, it's just a pity the hunt had to end so soon." The leader replied blandly as he looked the fallen girl up and down, a disappointed look in his eyes as he saw where the arrow had struck.
"P-please!" The wounded girl cried, her voice weak and pained. "I've done n-nothing wrong, w-why are y-you doing this?!"
"Why?" The leader mused, the men behind him all chuckling at the question. "Why not, I'm doing it because I can, what other reason would I need?"
The girl couldn't say anything to that. After all she could barely comprehend the words coming out of the man's mouth. They were sick, they were twisted and they were evil.
"Ah well, we might as well finish it." The leader spoke again, his voice almost childlike as he looked down at his victim.
"We should probably get back to the Dreadfort soon, so how do you want to do it?" One of the other men asked, this one having shoulder length black hair, and a prominent scar running across his face. "Fast or slow?"
The leader clicked his teeth as he heard that, before he smirked. "Why not let the dogs decide, they need a good meal every now and then, after all."
With that the man let out a slight whistle, some of his fellow hunters laughing, whilst others looked away, not quite able to stomach the sight they were about to see as they dogs began to move towards the downed girl.
It was as this was happening that chaos suddenly descended on the group. The first indicator being the spear that shot through the trees, striking the leader in his shoulder and hurling him off his horse and to the ground with a shout of agony.
This was soon followed by the sound of hooves as more than half a dozen armoured and mounted men exploded forth from the trees. Catching the group of men, and one woman, by surprise, as they suddenly went from the hunters to the hunted.
( - )
(With Tytan, a few moments before)
With a slight grunt of exertion Tytan stood up in the stirrups of his horse, a spear held aloft in his right hand and the reins of his horse in his other. His eyes narrowed as he saw the group ahead, his breath coming out low and slow as he pulled his arm back. His gaze fixed on the man he presumed was the leader.
Then without a sound Tytan hurled his spear, before he lowered himself back into his saddle. His free hand now grasping onto the dragon bone hilt of his sword as he unsheathed it in one fluid motion. Around him he could hear his men doing the same. Jamie, Arthur and Matthias drawing swords, whilst Martin and Luke readied their bows, nocking arrows as they skillfully guided their horse with just their legs.
As this was happening Ubba pulled his war axe off his back, a loud roar issuing forth from his beard mouth as he spurred his mount onwards, moving slightly ahead of the rest of the group. The battle fury having begun to descend on the giant of a man. Following closely behind him was Ivar, who unlike the others was wielding a spear, his eyes narrowed as he prepared to use it like one would a lance.
Within moments Tytan and his men had burst forth from the trees and descended on the unprepared group of men. Ubba making first contact, as with another roar he leaned over in his saddle and slammed the head of his axe into the scarred face of one of the men. The sharpened steel blade sheering through the man's face, and sending him sprawling to the ground dead.
Following swiftly behind Ubba was Tytan, who with neither a shout nor a war cry, barged his horse into one of the mounted men. His sword shooting forwards like a striking snake as he slipped his blade through the man's unprotected neck. Before tearing it out and twisting in his saddle to deflect the clumsy blow from another of the mounted men. Tytan not pausing for a second as he twisted his blade, and slashed out again, his blade slashing across his new opponent's throat.
Soon enough the rest of Tytan's men engaged the unprepared hunters, Martin and Luke bringing the hunting dogs and one of their handlers. Their arrows flying true as their bodkin headed arrows easily penetrated the cheap leather armour the man was wearing, and tore through the thin hide of the blood crazed animals.
Within moments all of Tytan's men were engaged in battle, the more experienced and better armed men massacring the marauders. None of them showing any mercy or any remorse as they butchered them. Ignoring the pleading of a fewer of the more cowardly men as they either fell to their needs and surrender, or turn tail and ran. Ivar's spear making short work of two of them as he plunged the blade of his spear through their skulls.
Ignoring this Tytan simply dismounted his horse, his feet landing heavily on the ground as he looked around. His expression cold as he saw that most of the hunters were now dead or dying. Ignoring that for now though, Tytan instead moved towards the downed girl, the victim of these cruel men's actions.
Going down on one knee next to her, Tytan could tell with a glance she was already dead. Her eyes having somewhat of a glassy look to them, one side of her body almost bathed in her own blood. Letting out a sigh Tytan closed the girl's eyes, his gaze straying for a second on the arrow that took her life. The tip having likely punctured one of her lungs, causing her to drown in her own blood.
Pushing himself to his feet Tytan looked away from the girl's body, and instead surveyed the area. Ten of the men were either dead or dying, all of the dogs were dead, and as he looked around he could see the young girl who had been with them was also dead. The bloody trench that had been carved into her body, telling Tytan that Ubba was the likely culprit. Though as he saw the bow in the dead girl's hands, and the quiver of arrows on her back, Tytan could only think the girl reaped what she sowed.
Looking away from her Tytan instead walked over to the leader of the group, the pale man having if possible gone paler as his bloody hands useless struggled at the spear Tytan had lodged in his shoulder.
Coming to a stop just in front of him, Tytan looked down at him in distaste.
"I don't know who you are, but you'll pay for this." The man snarled as he saw Tytan standing over him. His cold blue eyes filled with hatred as he gave up on the spear and instead went for the sword belted at his waist.
In response Tytan grabbed the shaft of the spear and twisted it. Causing the man to let out a cry of pain.
"Who I am doesn't matter. What I'm more interested in, is who you are, and what House you serve?" Tytan asked, his voice light as he released his grip on the spear and instead kneeled down next to the man.
"And what makes you think I serve a House." The leader sneered back at Tytan, ignoring the throbbing pain in his shoulder as he instead just glared into his attacker's green eyes.
"Your weapons, your horse, your armour." Tytan replied dryly. "It's all a bit too good quality for it to belong to bandits."
The man didn't reply to that, instead he just glared at Tytan.
Tytan let out a sigh as he heard that. "I want your name, and the name of the House you serve. Tell me now, and I'll give you a swift death, don't answer and I'll have to make you."
"As if some southern ponce like you could. You don't have the balls." The pale man replied his tone mocking.
Tytan let out a sigh at that, before without a word he grasped the spear lodged in the man's shoulder and ripped it out. The action causing the injured man to let out a loud scream of agony, even as Tytan inspected the blade for damaged before throwing it to the side for now.
"I-idiot!" The injured man sneered, his voice filled with pain from the bloody wound on his shoulder, the spear having caused a lot of damage. "I'm probably going to bleed out now, before you get any of the answers you're after!"
"That's unlikely." Tytan replied easily as he glanced over at the man's shoulder, noting the blood that was pouring out of the man's wound. Raising his hand Tytan began to draw on his Demigod abilities. "Tell me, did you know that the human body is more than seventy percent water?"
The man frowned in confusion as he heard that, not understanding what Tytan was saying.
"Oh yeah, you probably don't understand. Well let's just say men like you have a lot of water in their bodies. I know, it sounds like a bit of useless information. But personally I always found it interesting." Tytan continued, forgetting for a moment that the people of this world were not as advanced as the ones Tytan remembered from his old one.
Hovering his hand over the man's bloody shoulder, Tytan began to force the blood to thicken, clotting the wound. After that he then began to focus on the blood he could feel running through the man's veins and arteries, his gut clenching slightly as he drew on his abilities once more.
"W-what a-are yo…" The man began before he let out a shriek of pain as his arms and legs began to jerk. His body twisting as if some unknown hand guided it.
"Now, here's what's going to happen, you're going to tell me everything I want to know, or I'm going to hurt you." Tytan said, his voice still calm as he manipulated the man's blood, controlling the man's body like a puppeteer might his puppet. Controlling a person's blood, a powerful ability that required a lot of concentration and control. An ability that as a young teenager would have sickened him, but after several centuries spent in Tartarus it didn't make him batter an eye.
"N-no…" The man gasped out, before letting out another cry as he felt his blood begin to boil. The pain almost too much for his mind to comprehend, as he twisted and contorted, before he soiled himself. "P-please stop…"
Twisting his hand Tytan now caused the blood in the man's body to grow colder. The tips of his fingers rapidly darkening, as Tytan leeched the warmth out of the man's body, causing frostbite to set in.
"I will stop, all you have to do is tell me what I want to know." Tytan replied easily, before he twisted his hand again, this time causing the blood vessels in the man's veins to tighten. Making the man cry out as agony lanced through head.
"O-ok, o-ok, I'll tell you!" The man screamed out, his voice almost breaking from the pitch.
Relaxing his hand, Tytan nodded his head grimly. "Good, so let's start off with your name."
"Y-you're a monster!" The man cried out as Tytan stopped his torture.
"No, I'm a Prince. Now your name?" Tytan replied, not at all bothered by the man's accusations. After all he had faced true monsters, he had seen the literal embodiment of evil, the embodiment of the Pit, and knew where he stood with it. Tytan was not some insecure little boy, he was a fully realised Demigod, one who had utmost confidence in who he was as a person.
"R-Ramsay! Ramsay Snow." The now named Ramsay Snow cried out, as Tytan once again forced his limps to twist and jerk, his arm fracturing at the unnatural angle Tytan made it bend. Tytan's gaze as unforgiving as the ocean as he met Ramsay's scared blue ones.
"And the House you serve?" Tytan said calmly, ignoring his men who had gathered around him. None of them looking either surprised or horrified by what he was doing.
"Bolton, I serve House Bolton. Roose Bolton, he's my father!" Ramsay sobbed out, his voice almost breaking.
"House Bolton eh?" Tytan mused, before he looked to Jamie. "What do you think?"
"From what I've heard the Dreadfort is well position fortress, and Roose keeps a garrison of at least one hundred spears in it." Jamie replied back, already knowing what is Nephew was thinking. "An attack on it by the eight of us would be suicide."
"I've no doubt." Tytan replied unbothered, having come to that conclusion himself and dismissed the idea. "Still I'll make sure to remember the name, maybe mention what happened here to Ned. Let the Warden of the North sort this issue out, for now."
"A sensible option." Jamie said with a nod.
"Yes, I don't want to tread on too many toes." Tytan said as he got to his feet.
"And what are you going to do with the bastard?" Jamie asked as he looked down at the pitiful figure of Ramsey Snow.
"Well, I'm going to get as much information from him as I can. Then I'm going to kill him." Tytan replied nonchalantly as he looked down at the man. Before with a frown he looked over to the half-naked body of the dead girl. "Whilst I'm doing that, can you lot wrap the girl in a cloak. We'll endeavor to give her body back to her family if we can, that and whatever money these men had on them."
( - )
(A month or so later)
It had been more than a month since the skirmish in the forest, and since then Tytan and his group had quickly returned to the Royal Procession. Before they did though, like Tytan had said, they had delivered the girl's body back to her parents, along with all the money her killers were carrying. The family having lived quite close to the Dreadfort, meant that Tytan was able to get a look at the imposing structure.
Despite that though, the entire experience had but somewhat of a bitter taste in his mouth, as he had seen how understandably devastated the family was about the girl's death.
The only comfort he had been able to give them was that her death was quick, and her attackers had been brought to a swift and final justice. With Ramsay having met a particularly painful end after imparting everything he knew to Tytan. With his body, along with the bodies of his men all having been left in the forest for the animals to eat. Tytan having refused to give them a proper burial, or allow them to have funeral rights.
Soon after that though, Tytan and his company had ridden back to the column, and there he had confronted Ned Stark about the actions of one of his bannermen. Eddard having apologized for the actions of the man's son and his soldiers, before he had promised to look into it, as had Robert, who in a rare displayed of nobility, had almost lost his temper after hearing of what happened.
That had been a few weeks ago, and from what Tytan had heard, Eddard Stark had sent word to his son at Winterfell. Instructing him to call the banners and place Roose Bolton under arrest, before sending him down to King's Landing to face the King's Justice for the actions of his men.
The last Tytan had heard the Dreadfort had been placed under siege after Roose Bolton had refused to give himself up. Luckily though there were many men in the North who were experienced in the ways of war, like Rodrik Cassel and Bigjon Umber, so Robb as acting Lord of Winterfell did not have too much responsibility on his shoulders. Plus his army was growing daily as more Lord's answered Winterfell's call to arms.
Of course after returning to the procession, Tytan had soon returned to the monotony of travelling slowly south. It was also during this time that he had learned that his father had eventually got his own way, like usual. With him having arranged a betrothal between Joffrey and Sansa. Justifying marrying his second son to Ned Stark's daughter as a way to bring a close friend even closer by binding the North to the South by blood.
For Tytan this was somewhat of a relief, as the last thing he wanted was to be married to some simpering, waif of a girl. Which after having spoken to Sansa a few times, was exactly what the girl was. A girl with little to no personality, who did what she was told, when she was told. She didn't have the independence of thought, the strength of will or the ferocity of spirit that Tytan was looking for in a woman. Instead she was just too… bland and boring.
It was only a pity the girl didn't realise what a bastard his brother was, instead she was blinded by the glamour of being married to a Prince and the friendly mask Joffrey had learned to put on when dealing with new people.
Soon though the girl was likely to have her bubble burst, because after the procession had stopped off at the Crossroads Inn, a particularly unpleasant incident had taken place.
The exact details of just what this incident was, Tytan wasn't sure as he had been at the Inn getting pissed with some of his men, and trying to court the attention of some of the camp followers at the time. In fact he had only known something was wrong when a servant had told him his brother, Joffrey, had been attacked by young Arya Stark, and that Tytan's presence was required at the King's tent.
( - )
(In the King's tent)
Currently Tytan was stood on the raised dais that had been setup within the King's tent, beside Tytan was his father, Robert. The fat, dark haired monarch looking particularly pissed off at the moment as he wedged himself in his throne like chair, his ruddy red cheeks for once not caused by excessive consumption of alcohol, but instead by annoyance.
On the other side of the King was Cersei, the golden haired woman standing stiffly, her expression inscrutable. Beside Cersei was Tytan's younger brother Joffrey, the skinny blonde haired boy looking unusually meek as he clutched one of his arms to his chest. The arm in question, having been wrapped up in bandages.
The rest of the tent was crowded by knights and guardsmen, from both the House of Lannister and Baratheon. Tytan's men weren't there though, save except for Jamie, the six soldiers having instead stayed at the Inn, happily getting drunk off of their Prince's coin a oppose to seeing what triviality the nobles had gotten embroiled in this time.
For Tytan he was still a bit confused as to what had happened, and why a scared looking Arya Stark was being made to stand before the King like a prisoner on trial.
From what little he had been able to gather, Arya along with some boy called Mycah had assaulted Joffrey without provocation by the river earlier today, with Arya's Direwolf having also been involved in the attack, apparently having nearly torn Joffrey's arm off.
For Tytan the entire story seemed a little off. For one Joffrey provoked people by merely existing, so the chances of him having not said or done something to deserve a good kicking was unlikely. Plus the chances of Joffrey having survived being attacked by a Direwolf, even a young one, was unlikely. His brother was a weak coward after all, and a wolf was a vicious predator.
Still judging by the bandages on Joffrey's arm, his feeble demeanor and the slight bruising on his face, Tytan could tell that at least something had happened.
Looking away from the scared looking Arya, Tytan instead eyed the angry looking Ned Stark, who moments before had burst into the tent. Before proceeding to lay into the people there about his daughter being brought before the King without him present. An understandable reaction all things considered.
"I'm sorry Ned," Robert was the first to speak, his voice gruff and irritated as he raised a pudgy hand and attempted to calm his friend, "I didn't want to bring her here so quickly, but I just thought it'd be best if we get this whole business dealt with quickly."
"And what business is that?" Eddard asked, his voice still holding a note of coldness to it. Though it had thawed slightly at Robert's apology. Which was not surprising as Robert Baratheon very rarely apologized.
"You know full well Lord Stark. That girl of yours and the butcher's boy attacked my son. That animal of hers almost took his arm off." Cersei suddenly snapped, the blonde glaring down at both Arya and Lord Stark, her emerald eyes flashing dangerously in the dim light of the tent.
Tytan glanced at his mother at that, sensing that this was not a show, and that she truly was this pissed off. Taking his eyes off her, Tytan then went back to looking at Eddard Stark, taking in the scuffed leather jerkin and birches, his mud stained boots and the sword sheathed at his waist. Guessing as he did so that Eddard had likely been out looking for his daughter, who had apparently run off with her pet wolf after the incident had taken place.
"That's not true!" Arya shouted, the girl having grown a bit bolder now her father was here. Bold enough to speak back to the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, "She just bit him a little."
Tytan snorted in amusement as he heard that. Earning himself a scowl from his brother and a withering look from his mother.
"He was hurting Mycah!" Arya continued fiercely ignoring Tytan's amusement as she instead tried to get her point across.
"Joffrey has already told us what happened," Cersei replied coldly as she looked back to the little girl, the Queen obviously a little irritated that the Stark girl was talking back to her, "You and that butcher's boy beat him mercilessly with clubs and then set your wolf on him."
"That's not how it happened!" Arya shouted back, her voice bordering on hysterical as the Queen second-guessed her story, and believed the lying Prince over her. Seeing this Eddard placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.
"Yes it is!" Joffrey shouted back at her, his voice a bit higher than usual and almost as frantic as the girls, "They all attacked me and she threw my sword into the river!"
Tytan did actually laugh at that, once again getting a warning look from his mother, who apparently didn't appreciate Tytan drawing amusement from his younger brother's plight.
"Liar!" Arya shouted back heatedly.
"Shut up!" Joffrey screamed back.
"Enough," Tytan said loudly, the two children's squabbling beginning to get on his nerves. At Tytan's word the tent quietened down, as even Joffrey and Arya shut up and looked at him. "From what I can see, Joffrey has obviously been roughed up a little. That being said though it is also obvious that Joffrey provoked Arya in some way. So without any other witnesses I say Ned choses a fitting punishment for his daughter, and the King does so for his son, and then we can draw a line under this."
Robert grunted as he heard that, the scowl on his face lessening as he saw an easy way out.
Eddard frowned slightly, but couldn't deny the fact that his daughter had admitted her wolf had bit the Prince.
Cersei frowned as she heard that, her gaze shifting to Tytan.
Seeing this Tytan shrugged. "The way I see it both of them are somewhat at fault, so both should be punished by their fathers. And at least this way we can hopefully get past this without any resentment."
"He makes a good point Ned, tell you what I will deal with my son, and you deal with your daughter. Then after that, we'll say no more about it." Robert spoke up loudly, thumping his fist on the arm of his chair as he did so.
"What of the wolf?" Cersei questioned, once again making her presence known before Robert could completely dismiss the incident.
"Wolf?" Robert questioned with a scowl, before he nodded. "Oh yeah, the Direwolf."
"Lord Stark should see to it that they are both sent back North." Tytan spoke up, once again wanting to put an end to this incident without any bad blood. After all Ned Stark, despite Tytan's less than stellar opinion of him, was going to be the new Lord Hand, a powerful positon in the Capital.
Plus Tytan always had a soft spot for dogs. After all he had once had a beloved pet Hellhound of his own.
"Again, he makes a good point Ned. Direwolves are wild animals, the Capital is no place for them." Robert spoke up, as he gave Tytan an appreciative nod.
Ned frowned at that, before giving a short bow. "I will see to it that my daughter, Sansa's, wolf is sent back up North. Arya's though, Nymeria, has gone missing."
"Then it's back in the wild where it belongs." Tytan dismissed, as he stepped off the dais.
Robert nodded at that, before he lumbered to his feet and scowled around at the crowded tent. "Alright then, show's over!"
At those words the crowd in the tent began to break up, the guardsmen and knights all leaving now that the fun had ended. Leaving only the Kingsguard, a few Lannister guardsmen and a few Stark guardsmen, plus surprisingly Sansa Stark, though when and why she had come into the tent Tytan didn't know.
Soon enough though the King and Lord Stark both departed. Robert likely going off to be with a whore or to get drunk and pass out, whilst Eddard took his daughters back to their quarters. A half dozen Stark guardsmen following after him.
This of course left Tytan alone in the Royal tent with his mother, his Uncle and his younger brother. Plus a few Lannister guardsmen.
Glancing around at the guardsmen, Tytan waved for them to go. "Leave us." Which they quickly did, leave only the immediate family. "You to Joffrey, go pick the legs off of a spider or whatever else you do with your free time."
Joffrey scowled as he heard that, and made to responded. Before he could though he was cut off by Cersei, who after a quiet whispered conversation sent her second born son out of the tent.
"What do you think you were doing? Does the idea of family mean nothing to you?" Cersei asked harshly, rounding on the calm looking Tytan the moment they were alone.
Tytan scowled at that, before replying just as harshly. "Family means everything to me, even that little shit Joffrey. Unlike you though I don't let my emotions consume me!"
"And what's that supposed to mean?!" Cersei snapped back, her expression still irritated. But not quite as angry as before.
"It means that needlessly antagonizing the Hand of the King is unnecessary. Especially over a few scratches and a couple of bruises." Tytan replied bluntly.
Cersei scowled at that, but didn't deny Tytan had a point.
"On top of that the fat man wouldn't have done anything to the Stark girl, he loves Ned Stark too much for that, Stark though has a bit more backbone and will punish his daughter in some way. On top of that the King is too lazy to think up a punishment for Joffrey." Tytan added on, making sure his reasons were clear to his mother.
Cersei's scowl faded at that, her expression turning a lot kinder as she stepped closer to Tytan and gently caressed his face. "You're right, and I'm sorry I snapped at you."
Tytan nodded at that, completely unbothered by Cersei's previous irritation. Still though he did feel a point needed to be made. "Still, I think you should see to it Joffrey receives punishment. The boy is one of the Prince's, it's about time he grew up and learned how to act like a man and not a twisted little child."
Cersei frowned slightly as she heard her beloved firstborn's comments on his brother. A part of her knowing he had a point. After all she knew her second born son was twisted, he had done things that had shocked her, and Cersei was not often shocked. Despite that though she loved all her children, so much so that she would kill for them and die for them, but she could at least admit Joffrey was a monster.
"You might not like to hear it, but unless you want him to die young, you're going to need to bring him to heel." Tytan continued on bluntly. Knowing as he did so that he was telling the truth.
Cersei bit her lip as she heard that, but eventually nodded her head. "I'll think about it."
It was the best Tytan was going to get from his mother. The woman was too proud and too stubborn to give any more than that. Even to Tytan.
( - )
AN: So what did you all think. There was a few dark bits in this chapter, but unfortunately that is necessary when it comes to Game of Thrones stories. Still I hope you all enjoy the chapter, I quite like this chapter.
Either way I hope you all enjoy this chapter, I ended up polishing it off in a day I was so into it. So I hope you like it too.
Thanks for reading and I hope you all leave a comment or a review.
Greed120
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