"Arya, don't rush too far ahead!" Griffith called out to his younger sister, who had already run around the corner ahead.
He heard her giggles echo down the corridor and sighing he rushed after her.
She probably hadn't heard him, the long passageways made it hard to understand people thanks to the echo it provided.
Running around the corner, Griffith nearly ran into Arya.
She was standing at the top of a long winding flight of steps that led down to who knows where.
Griffith frowned and grabbed onto Arya's shoulder as he heard a pair of voices coming from the darkness.
Turning to look up at him, Arya frowned, "What's wrong?"
His visage instantly shifted to a toothy smile, "Nothing," he glanced out of one of the windows, "but I think you should head back now, I would prefer an evening where you and the septa don't fight for a change."
Arya scowled, "And what about you?"
That caused Griffith to laugh, "I still have some business with the prince, I'll join you once I'm done. Now go on."
Pouting, Arya stuck out her tongue, before running past Griffith back from where they came.
The older boy's eyes narrowed as he stared down the hallway she had gone down.
He wanted to make sure she had truly returned to the Tower of the Hand.
Hearing her footsteps slowly fade as the distance between them grew, Griffith turned back towards the flight of stairs, from which the voices were still coming.
Grinning, he placed a hand on the hilt of the short sword he had acquired since his own had broken, and slowly, with care, he descended the stairs.
Reaching the bottom, Griffith looked around the, now not so dark, hallway.
He quickly spotted the door through which light was pouring.
"Yes, the boy must be united with her, they can not come back before we manage that." a soft and rather high pitched voice said.
"But only after the Khal dies, she must gather enough power before she returns.'' This time the man who spoke had an oily voice with what seemed to be a foren accent.
"The King is weakening, only a few more months and he would have run Westeros into the ground, but with Lord Stark present…" the high pitched voice trailed off, and Griffith heard a few chairs scraping against the ground.
Straining his ears he tried to hear what the person whispered, "There's someone outside."
Griffith stiffened, and spinning around sprinted back up the stairs.
Whatever those shady figures were talking about seemed extremely important, but right now it seemed imperative for him to get away.
He could hear the door slam open just as he reached the top of the stair.
Bolting down the corridor, he began distancing himself from the Tower of the Hand.
He didn't want whoever he was listening to to find out who he was.
Glancing back, Griffith noticed that he wasn't being followed and slowly slowed down to a walk.
Only then did he notice that he had no idea where he was.
"Damn it!" he swore, looking around for some sort of indicator to give him an idea as to where he might be.
Griffith had only been looking for a few minutes when he ran into someone, who he was in no mood to talk to, Cersei Lannister.
He quickly bowed, and smiled at her, "Your Highness, what a coincidence."
The Queen's lips tightened but she still gave him a half-hearted smile, "Yes, quite."
His smile widened and he straightened up, "I do hope you arrived well, it must have been hard travelling all the way to Winterfell and back."
Cersei's eyes narrowed, and she strolled past him, "You mustn't worry, we Lannisters are made of sturdier stuff."
Griffith chuckled lightheartedly, causing the Queen to stop and look back, "What was your name again?"
"Griffith, Griffith Snow." the boy said, bowing again.
The Queen gave an amused chuckle, "Well Griffith, accompany me."
"It would be an honour." he said, joining her as she walked down the corridor.
***
I hope you enjoyed the chapter and please tell me if you see any mistakes.
Sorry for the kate and short chapter but this week has been very stressful and I barely got this chapter out.
Then I hope you have a nice day or night depending on where you are, goodbye ;)