Chapter 10 - Chapter 10

ANTEA

Water, all around them there has been water for days. Antea had never seen the open water and she found it quite fascinating. Theon Greyjoy had told her that the seas were beautiful, he remembered well the waters all around the Iron Islands. 

Winterfell was far away from the sea; the only water Antea had ever seen were the hot pools in the Godswood.

Shadow didn't like the sea very much; she preferred the woods, and Antea agreed with her. The waters were beautiful, but the woods felt like home. She would have liked to ride all the way to King's Landing, but by ship, they would have reached the Capital faster, and her mother wanted to arrive there before the King's party. Before the Lannisters.

Antea just hoped she could have seen her father, but she wasn't sure she would. She wanted to be sure that her family—him and her sweet sisters—was fine.

Antea looked away from the sea, and her gaze fell on her direwolf. She seemed almost sad. A night, almost around the Riverlands, she had found Shadow howling at the moon. Her song seemed a mourning one, and Antea found herself crying, a desperate cry like she had lost a brother or a sister. And she hoped with all her heart that it wasn't the case, but she couldn't know now.

"We'll be in King's Landing within the hour, my ladies," Captain Moreo Turnitis's voice reached the girl. The Captain was a curious man from Tyrosh. Under his green beard, his lips were always turned up in a smile.

When Antea turend she could see the shape of lands not far from them, in not long she would have seen King's Landing for the first time.

Cassie, you should have talked about the South more, Antea thought. 

She had no idea of what was ahead of them, what she had to expect from the Southerners. She didn't know why, but the fact that her brother's best friend never spoke to them about her home wasn't a very comforting thought.

"Your oarmen have been well by us, Captain," she could hear the polite voice of her mother. "Each one of them shall receive a silver stag."

"Thank you, Lady Stark," the man answered. Antea didn't like to let strangers know where they were heading, but Ser Rodrick said that they needed Moreo's ship; it was one of the fastest in all the Seven Kingdoms. Of course, they hadn't said what the purpose of their travel was, but Antea would have felt safer if no one had known who they were. But it was her mother's choice.

"But the pleasure it's all ours," the captain added. "Having fine ladies like yourself and your daughter is all the reward we need."

"But you'll take the silver anyway," her mother insisted, studying the man. So, she didn't trust him, either.

Antea focused her attention on Shadow again. She was set by her side, and she looked at every person who passed near the young lady. Antea almost laughed every time someone looked at her pup. Their eyes were always wide, their mouths ajar and no one approached her when Shadow was around.

"Have you heard, girl?" Antea said, petting Shadow's black fur. The pup immediately looked up, showing her golden eyes. "We'll land soon," her tail moved happily, and Antea smiled down at her.

"Someone is going to notice us if the wolf is coming," Ser Rodrick said, gazing at Shadow, making Antea look at him.

"Do not worry," Antea answered, scratching Shadow behind the ear. "No one will notice a thing," she sounded almost proud. Sometimes, Arya had asked Antea if she didn't feel lonely; all her brother's wolves were always with them, and Shadow wasn't. But the truth was that Antea was never abandoned by her pup, ever. Shadow had the talent of going unnoticed if she wanted to be, but she always watched, always observed from afar.

"The wolf is coming, Ser Rodrick," her mother said, approaching them. Since Bran's direwolf had saved him, her mother seemed to accept the pups more way more than before.

"As you say, my lady," the man answered. Then, her mother stopped next to Antea and looked at the sea. The two of them hadn't talked much since the beginning of their journey, they were still tense around the other. Catelyn had not forgotten what Antea said weeks before, it was clear. Antea didn't apologize for her words; she didn't know if her mother really meant the terrible things she said to Jon, but since she had never said otherwise, Antea never took her words back. But a part of her didn't want to, it seemed like turn her back to Jon.

"The captain told me that the voyage is almost at an end," Catelyn said.

"So soon?" Ser Rodrick said almost happily. He hadn't felt well during the journey; his face was pale, but that day, it seemed he was feeling better.

"Apologise, my lady," he said to Antea's mother. I haven't been the most valiant of protectors." Antea was about to smile. If he wasn't feeling well, it didn't make him less valiant.

Men and honor, she thought, rolling her eyes.

"We are here, Ser Rodrick," her mother replied. And safely, that's what matters." Antea agreed with her; they were all alive.

"What now?" Antea asked, crossing her arms over her chest. One of her mother's hands was hidden behind her cloak, where she kept the Valyrian steel dagger. Antea had noticed that she often touched it with her still-wounded hand.

"We need to find the king's master-at-arms and pray he can be trusted." Antea's eyes were diverted to the sea at her mother's words. Could they really trust anyone? Maybe it would have been better to wait for her father; maybe he could have told them who to trust.

"Ser Aron Santagar is a vain man but an honest one," Ser Rodrick said, and then he looked at Catelyn with serious eyes. "But once there, my lady, in the court, someone could recognize you on sight." 

Her mother nodded. "Littelfinger," she muttered with a tight mouth.

Antea frowned. "Who's Littlefinger?" she asked, lost, studying her mother's expression. She didn't seem pleased at the mention of that name.

"Lord Baelish, my lady." Antea had never heard of that name.

"Is he important?" Antea asked, looking at her mother's expression.

"He was my father's ward," Catelyn explained. "We grew up together. I've always seen him as a little brother, but his feelings for me were… more than brotherly." Antea listened closely to her mother. If they had grown up together, why wasn't she happy to hear his name? 

Catelyn looked at Antea from the corner of her eyes. "When it was announced that I was to wed Brandon Stark, Petyr challenged him for my hand." Antea's eyes widened.

"You had to marry Uncle Brandon?" She exclaimed; she had no idea.

But her mother ignored her. "Brandon was twenty, Petyr was fifteen. I had to beg Brandon to spare his life, and he did, but he left Petyr with a scar. After that, my father sent him away, and I haven't seen him ever since," she lifted her face, almost sad. "He wrote to me after Brandon was killed, but I burned it unread. By that time, I knew Ned would marry me in his brother's place." Ser Rodrick nodded when Catelyn ended her story.

"You… were to wed… Uncle Brandon," Antea repeated more to herself than her mother.

"Is it all you've heard, Antea?" Her mother said with a strict tone.

"I'm just surprised," Antea argued. "You've never told us." 

"It wasn't important," Catelyn said quickly. 

Antea's parents had never told them what had happened before her and Robb's birth, not specifically anyway. It was just that Antea grew up with the idea that her parents always meant to be together, but it wasn't like that. She wasn't disappointed, just surprised. 

Was it so easy to wed off children? Alliances were that important? More than sons and daughters' happiness? 

Of course, her mother was happy and in love now, but Antea could see the pain in her eyes just by talking about Brandon again. Had she been happy to marry Ned? And had he been happy to marry Catelyn?

"I've heard Littlefinger sits on the small council." The small council was composed of the King's councilors; her father would soon be sitting among them as the Hand of the king.

"I knew he would rise high," Catelyn said. "He was always clever, even when he was a boy. He wasn't wise, though."

The three of them turned around, and for the first time, Antea saw King's Landing. It was situated on hills, going from the sea to the top of the hill, where, of course, there was the Red Keep, the castle of the Capital. His red stones shined under the sun. The air was very different from the North's. It was heavy and hot, and Antea had to lose the knot of her cloak around her neck.

The city was more visible. There were inns near the shore, merchant stalls, taverns, and brothels, but Antea diverted her eyes to those.

"My lady," Ser Rodrick spoke, making Catelyn turn to him, "I think it is best for you and Lady Antea not to enter the castle."

"You will be in danger as much as we would," Catelyn argued, but the man laughed with his rough voice.

"I'll be fine, my lady. The time is passed and you can see it on my face, not even my mother would recognize me."

"And where should we go?" Antea asked; she hoped that her voice hadn't been too harsh.

But before Ser Rodrick could answer, the captain walked towards her. "King's Landing, my lady, as you commanded. Will you need assistance to carry your things to the castle?"

Her mother smiled at the man. "We are not heading to the castle," she said. "Maybe you can suggest an inn."

The man did know of a good place near the river. Before leaving, Catelyn paid each man personally, as she had promised.

They left the ship, and as soon as Antea's feet touched the ground, Shadow was already gone. A little smile appeared on the young lady's face when she saw Ser Rodrick looking around, searching for the pup.

"Shall we go?" Catelyn said before walking in the crowded streets of the Capital.

The inn where they were supposed to stay wasn't far, but she had the opportunity to see the people of King's Landing. They were all living their lives, and children were running around, but something caught Antea's eye; there weren't soldiers around to keep the ground safe and help people. And the buildings were so many and so close to each other that it made the passage difficult. 

Once at the inn, they went to the room that Antea would have shared with her mother. It was a small room with a bed, a table, and a chair. Outside the window, the river shone under the sun.

Suddenly something moved against her leg, Antea smiled without looking down, amazed by how silent Shadow was.

"It is better if you stay away from the common room," Ser Rodrick said. "Even if it's not the castle, we could never know who is watching." 

Watching… Antea thought, and without notice, she looked around, like someone was there. She wasn't used to all of that secrecy, and she wondered how her mother could be so calm.

"I'll be back before nightfall with Ser Aron," Ser Rodrick added. "Rest now, my ladies." 

"Thank you," Antea said before the man left the room.

She then turned to see her mother sitting on the bed. Catelyn was silent, and she looked around the room, messaging her hands. Shadow sat next to the lady, sniffing her wounds as if she were checking if they were healing.

Antea walked to the table and opened her bag. She moved her spare dress to find a piece of cloth. She then turned to her mother and sat next to her on the bed, taking one of her hands in hers.

"You need to change the bandages," she muttered, unwrapping the cloth around her hand and revealing the deep cut on it. She couldn't understand her mother sometimes; she was so fearless and kind, and other times, she seemed cold, thinking just about duties and rights. 

"You don't have to," her mother whispered. Antea started to bandage her wound with a clean cloth.

"It will be easier for you," Antea replied. "Do not worry, I've looked closely at Maester Luwin." 

Silence fell between them, and then Catelyn spoke again. "I'm sorry we are like this now," Antea said, focusing on her other hand and biting her lip. "But I need you to trust me."

"I trust you, Mother," Antea answered, then looked her mother in the eyes. "I just don't understand you sometimes," Catelyn laughed bitterly, looking at the floor.

"You are young."

"I thought you said I was getting old," Antea said.

"Some things became rational in other times of your life," Catelyn said, looking at the work Antea had just finished.

"I don't think I'll ever find it rational; your behavior with Jon," Antea replied, getting up with the dirty clothes and walking to the table. She noticed her mother biting her lips, displeased.

"I wasn't rational at that moment," she said. "On some things, anyway." Antea turned to her mother at those words. She wasn't regretting all she had said. She could not understand. Why did she hate Jon so much?

"You've grown fond of Cyel," Antea said, scrubbing her hands with a wet cloth.

"Of course," she heard her mother answer, and the girl nodded her head.

"Yet she is a Sand," Antea stated.

"It is not the same." Antea turned when her mother spoke. Her eyes wide in confusion. That made no sense. If she hated Jon for being a Snow, she must have hated Cyel as well for being a Sand.

"Why? Because her father is Prince Oberyn Martell?" she argued, and at that, Catelyn got up.

"Because Oberyn Marell is not my husband!" her mother exclaimed. Antea observed the woman before her, taking a deep breath and rubbing her face. Catelyn talked again, "I need to rest now." 

Antea stood quietly, looking at her mother lying down in bed. It didn't take long for Catelyn to fall asleep. Antea was tired, but she preferred to stay awake if they were alone. Her mind is constantly thinking back to the conversation she had shared with her lady mother. She still couldn't understand why she blamed Jon, but not her father. Antea had so many questions; she knew of lords and their bastards. She knew that it was no secret that many noblemen would have mistresses, and she, of course, didn't think of her father to be such a man, but everybody made mistakes, and Jon was not to be blamed for that. 

Shadow was set next to Antea, with her muzzle on her lap. Antea didn't know for how long she had been sitting there petting her pup's fur, but suddenly, Shadow growled just before a knock came from the door. The knocking had woken up Catelyn too, who set up immediately muttering to Antea not to talk, but whoever it was knocked again.

"Open, in the name of the King." Catelyn closed her eyes before answering.

"A moment," while Catelyn moved to the door, Antea noticed the Valyrian steel dagger on the bed table, and calmly, she shielded it with her body. Her mother opened the wooden door to reveal soldiers. They were wrapped in golden cloaks, and their expressions were strict. 

Why were they there? Had someone betrayed them?

"We need to escort you to the castle, my lady," one of them said to Catelyn.

"By whose authority?" Antea asked, careful not to move too much, but her tone was strict. Someone wanted to see her mother; she wanted to know who and let him know that her mother would not be moving without her.

The man looked at Antea before putting out from under his cloak a parchment. There was something on it, but Antea couldn't see from where she was. Catelyn took the small stroll in her hands.

"Petyr" she muttered. 

Her mother's childhood friend? Antea looked her mother's worried expression, had something happened? Maybe Ser Rodrick needed help and he asked Lord Baelish for it.

"Do you know who I am?" Catelyn asked, and Antea could feel something behind her, moving the skirt of her dress. The young lady didn't look down so as not to let the men notice Shadow.

"No, m'lady," he answered. "M'lord Littlefinger said just to bring you to him, not mistreated." Antea looked closely at her mother, waiting for her next decision.

"Wait outside; I will be out in a moment," she said before closing the door and turning to Antea.

"You really want to go?" Antea asked in a whisper with her arms crossed.

"I have to," the girl nodded at her mother's words. She took the dagger in her hands and then walked to Catelyn.

"Let's go, then," Antea said.

"Antea," her mother whispered with her serious tone, "I don't trust this man."

"One more reason for me to come," Antea insisted. Mother, I promised I would have helped you; I won't stay behind." Then she moved to the door, waiting for her mother, who took a breath before approaching her daughter. 

When Catelyn opened the door, the man looked at Antea.

"M'lord Littlefinger asked just for you." Antea fixed her dress.

"I don't think he will mind," she said with a smile. The man seemed unsure, but Catelyn spoke.

"Shall we?" The soldiers moved, and Antea carefully left the wooden door open for Shadow to follow.

This was going out of the plan; they wanted to be unseen while in the South, and now they were riding surrounded by golden guards to the Red Keep. When they were near the gate, the sun was setting, and the lights inside the castle were already possible to see. They left the horses, and the guards escorted them up on the steps of a tower. A door was on the top and when they opened it, Antea saw a short man and was very short for a grown man, her twin brother Robb was taller, his face was thin and, on his chin, there was a pointy black beard. His eyes were grey-green, shiny, and clever. He was slim, and he didn't seem a threat, but still, her mother didn't trust him, and Antea found herself quite agreeing with her.

"Cat," Antea frowned. His tone was very friendly for two people who hadn't seen each other for years. And besides, only her father could call her mother Cat.

Littlefinger dismissed the guards, and then his eyes traveled to Antea. He seemed surprised to see her there, like he had just noticed her.

"Is that your daughter?" he asked, getting up, but Catelyn didn't answer. "She looks a lot like you, but not in the colors." It was just for a moment, but his tone seemed almost disappointed. Antea studied every single movement of the short man; she didn't like his eyes.

"Your hands…" he gasped, walking closer to Cat, who ignored him.

"You can't summon me like a serving wench." Antea couldn't help but widen her eyes. She had never heard her mother talk like that. "Once you knew the meaning of courtesy."

"I've angered you, my lady; it wasn't my intent." Antea kept studying him. He wore dark clothes and a mockingbird-shaped fastening on his neck. If that was the banner of his house, she didn't know which one it was.

"How do you know we were in the city?" Her mother asked, almost angry.

"Lord Varys." 

Who? Antea thought as he spoke. 

"He knows all, and he will be here shortly. I wanted to see you alone, but I didn't know that you would have brought your daughter."

"I thought you wouldn't mind," Antea spoke for the first time, stopping next to her mother. "Since I've come to know you knew my mother."

"Not at all," he answered, then looked at Catelyn. Antea didn't like the way he was observing her mother. "I didn't know you'd talked about me to your children, Cat."

"She didn't," Antea answered shortly. The two of them looked at each other in silence, a fake smile on both their faces.

"So, it was the King's Spider who found us." At her mother's words, Littlefinger turned to her.

"You don't want to call him that," he warned with a vicious smile. "He is very sensitive, but yes, he was the one to know. He has spies everywhere, his little birds, he called them." Another vicious lord to know, Antea thought. She had been there for less than a day, and she had already missed her peaceful North.

"And he came to you," Catelyn said suspiciously.

"Why?" Antea asked with a frown.

"Why not?" he exclaimed, smiling. "I'm a councilor of the king after all."

"Does he know…"

"Varys knows everything," he interrupted Catelyn. "Except why you are here." As if we were going to tell you, Antea thought, understanding the implied question.

"A wife can't miss her own husband and daughters?" Her mother answered without hesitation. But the man laughed.

"Don't try to lie, Cat," he said. "You are using your house's words."

"Family, duty, honor," her mother stated solemnly. Those were Tully's words, and now, more than ever, they sounded like warriors' words to Antea.

Littelfinger repeated those words: "But that required you to stay in Winterfell, where the Hand left you." Antea's hands clanged in fists. What did he say about her father?

"No, my lady," he added, "You are here for something much more important. I beg of you, let me help you." Antea wouldn't even let him help her pick up something on the floor.

Suddenly a knock come from the door, making them turn. The man took a breath before the invite came in.

A plump man entered the room, his head bold and his body wrapped in purple, red, and golden clothes.

"Lady Stark," he said with a bow, "To see you is a cause of immense joy." Then he took Catelyn's hand in his "Your poor hands," but Catelyn took it away from his grasp.

"My Maester Luwin had taken good care of them," the plump man turned to Antea.

"Lady Antea," he bowed to her. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Varys." Antea didn't know how to reply, so she just bowed her head.

"It was so sad to hear about little Bran," he said, turning to Catelyn again. "The gods are cruel sometimes."

"On that we agree" her mother said and Antea looked down for a brief moment, trying to put the sadness aside, she didn't want to show it to them. She wanted to hide it like her mother was doing.

"Lord Baelish tells me that I have to thank you for bringing me and my daughter here."

Varys giggled, "I'm guilty, my lady. I hope you both can forgive me. Now I wonder if you could show us that dagger." Mother and daughter looked at each other from the corner of their eyes. He really knows everything—first Bran, now the dagger. Unless he wasn't the one who sent the killer, would he have really talked about it if he was guilty?

"What dagger?" Littlefinger asked, getting closer.

"My little birds listened to your master-at-arms, Ser Rodrick, I believe, talking to Ser Aron about a certain dagger," Varys explained calmly, sensing their suspiciousness. "Do you have the dagger with you?" Catelyn pulled out the dagger.

"Here," she said. "Maybe your little birds know who this belongs to." She almost growled. Antea knew that her mother couldn't wait to find whoever he was, and she wanted that, too.

Varys took it in his hands and studied every part of it.

"Careful, it's sharp," Catelyn said, observing closely lord Varys.

"Nothing is sharp as Valyrian steel." Antea turned to Littlefinger at his comment, and she saw him taking the dagger in his hands. "Such a sweet balance. If you wanted answers, you should have come to me."

"Is that so?" Antea said skeptically, looking at the man, who laughed.

"Of course."

"And if I did," Catelyn said, "What would you have told me?"

Littlefinger handled the dagger skillfully, and with an expert flick of his hand, the dagger flew and stuck against the door's wood. Antea turned to look at the man with wide eyes.

"I would have told you that there is just a man who has such a blade in all King's Landing." Lord Baelish spoke again, and Antea immediately thought of Jamie Lannister: "Me." 

Antea eyes widened. Him?

"Yours?" Her mother said uncertainly. It didn't make any sense. It was his? And he was telling them openly?

"Until the tourney for the Prince's name day" he said nodding his head "See I backed Ser Jamie Lannister, like half of the court, but when he lost against Ser Loras Tyrell, I lost my knife" he explained simply. Whoever won that dagger wanted Bran dead.

"To who have you lost it?" her mother asked, impatient to hear the answer.

Littlefinger smirked triumphantly. "The Imp."

"Tyrion Lannister," Antea growled in anger.