Torrhen tried his best to keep the rage contained within him as he kept his eyes closed. The first time he had truly experienced true rage was when he was a child. Torrhen had gone with his father North to visit one of his vassal, he didn’t remember how he got separated from the party. All he remembered of the incident was a wildling, he had come across, who snatched him from his horse. His vision had turned red then and his father found him stabbing the dead body furiously with a dagger Torrhen had stolen from one of his father’s guardsmen. They had to wrench him away from the body, as he thrashed and screamed in fury.
It flared again threatening to break out when Arya and Joffrey argued to determine what had truly happened. He had heard from Rose when he arrived in the castle, what had really taken place.
“Enough!” the king roared, rising from his seat, his voice thick with irritation. Silence fell. “Now, child, you will tell me what happened. Tell it all, and tell it true. It is a great crime to lie to a king. When she is done, you will have your turn. Until then, hold your tongue.”
They both told their stories and Prince Renly had to leave because he couldn’t stop laughing at his nephew.
“What in all the seven hells am I supposed to make of this? He says one thing, she says another.” The King said.
“They were not the only ones present,” Ned said. “Sansa, come here. Tell us what happened.”
Torrhen opened his eyes and looked at Sansa. She blinked at Arya, then at the young prince. “I don’t know,” she said tearfully, looking as though she wanted to bolt. “I don’t remember. Everything happened so fast, I didn’t see …”
“You rotten.” Arya flew into Sansa knocking her to the ground, Torrhen rose and picked her up as she thrashed. “Liar, Liar, Liar.”
“Arya stop it,” his father said. He picked Sansa up and asked her, “Are you alright?”
“The girl is as wild as that filthy animal of hers,” Cersei Lannister said. “Robert, I want her punished.”
“Seven hells,” Robert swore. “Cersei, look at her. She’s a child. What would you have me do, whip her through the streets? Damn it, children fight. It’s over. No lasting harm was done.”
The queen was furious. “Joff will carry those scars for the rest of his life.”
Robert Baratheon looked at his eldest son. “So he will. Perhaps they will teach him a lesson. Ned, see that your daughter is disciplined. I will do the same with my son.”
“Gladly, Your Grace,” his father said with vast relief.
Robert started to walk away, but the queen was not done. “And what of the direwolf?” she called after him. “What of the beast that savaged your son?”
The king stopped, turned back, frowned. “I’d forgotten about the damned wolf.”
Arya tensed in Torrhen’s arms. Torrhen spoke for the first time in the hall trying to keep his anger out of his voice. “I found no trace of the direwolf.”
Robert did not look unhappy. “No? So be it.”
The queen raised her voice. “A hundred golden dragons to the man who brings me its skin!”
“A costly pelt,” Robert grumbled. “I want no part of this, woman. You can damn well buy your furs with Lannister gold.”
The queen regarded him coolly. “I had not thought you so niggardly. The king I’d thought to wed would have laid a wolfskin across my bed before the sun went down.”
Robert’s face darkened with anger. “That would be a fine trick, without a wolf.”
“We have two wolfs here,” Cersei Lannister said. Her voice was very quiet, but her green eyes shone with triumph.
The rage threatened to be let out. Torrhen could see blood at the edge of his vision as the king shrugged irritably. “As you will. Have Ser Ilyn see to it.”
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“Robert, you cannot mean this,” Father protested.
Winter rose too sensing Torrhen’s emotions.
The king was in no mood for more argument. “Enough, Ned, I will hear no more. A direwolf is a savage beast. Sooner or later it would have turned on your children the same way the other did on my son. Get them a dog, they’ll be happier for it.”
Sansa and Arya said something but Torrhen could not hear their voice, his gaze locked on the King. The ease with which he decided to kill off Winter and Lady, regardless of them being innocent. He knew the King had no mind to rule but he didn’t knew the extent of it.
“Please, Robert. For the love you bear me. For the love you bore my sister. Please.” His father said.
The king looked at them for a long moment, then turned his eyes on his wife. “Damn you, Cersei,” he said with loathing.
Father stood, gently disengaging himself from Sansa’s grasp. “Do it yourself then, Robert,” he said in a voice cold and sharp as steel. “At least have the courage to do it yourself.”
Robert looked at Ned with flat, dead eyes and turned to leave but stopped when Torrhen spoke.
“King Aerys Targaryen killed my uncle and grandfather, Torrhen said, “when they sought justice because a Prince thought he could do as he wish and kidnap my aunt Lyanna.”
The King turned to face him.
“And when he demanded yours and my father’s head, did Jon Arryn give you both up to the mad King?” Torrhen said. As he removed his sword from its sheath.
Ser Barristan of the Kingsguard held his sword too and stepped forward. “Sheathe your sword boy.”
Torrhen ignored him and took a step forward brushing off his father as he tried to hold him back. The men in the hall watched as they held their breathes.
“What of it?” The Queen said with eyes of fury at his act of defiance.
Torrhen ignored her. He looked into the King’s eyes and said, “I have a witness with me who saw the everything that took place and I thought to spare your son the shame of his actions by letting it go after all he will be the King one day after you but you want the blood of Winter and Lady just to satisfy your wife’s lust for blood. You are the same as the mad King, killing innocents of house Stark. Winter and Lady have done no wrong, I would sooner die protecting them. What made you think that I would stand still as my Direwolves are murdered?”
The King looked at him with eyes of fury. The King had given a command to have the Wolves killed and going back on it would mean that his authority would weaken.
Torrhen didn’t hide from that furious gaze. He pointed his sword at the King. “The direwolves have the blood of the Starks in them. If any Stark blood is spilled on your command I give you my oath on my Father’s honor that this hall will be splattered with yours when I am done with you.”
Winter, and even Lady who always behaved in a dignified manner just like her name, growled and snarled. The pack dragged the girls behind them as they bared their swords at once ready to die alongside him. Ser Barristan held the grip on his sword tighter. The King’s men and Stark men took up their swords. The Queen shouted and commanded the King’s men to take Torrhen for Treason.
“Silence!” The King shouted. He looked at Torrhen with pure hatred. “There will be no bloodshed today.” The Queen started to speak but Robert turned his gaze towards her. “I want no blood to be shed on this day and anyone who does so, regardless of who it is, I will put them to the sword myself.”
“My Direwolves?” Torrhen said.
“You will keep your damn wolves in control boy,” the King barked. “If I hear once again of them hurting any one, they will be put down by myself. Do you understand?”
Torrhen nodded. The King turned and marched out the hall in anger and frustration. The Queen with rage concealed in her face followed him with her family. Ser Barristan looked at Torrhen for a moment before following the Royal Family,
Torrhen turned towards his Father.
“It was stupid,” his father said. “You could have gotten yourself killed.”
“Would you have let him killed Winter and Lady just because he was King and he commanded you to do?” Torrhen said.
His father didn’t reply but Torrhen knew the answer. That was the way it was with Oaths and bending the knee. You had to sell your soul along with your fealty and Torrhen would sooner die than bend the knee to someone.
He looked at Sansa, “I am disappointed in you Sansa. Very much. Until the day you learn what it means to be part of a pack, Lady will stay with me.” He whistled for the Direwolves to follow. Lady looked at Sansa for a moment before Torrhen said, “Come Lady lets go.” He left the hall, the pack following him.
“Where are we going?” Ser Cleyton said.
“Away from this retinue,” Torrhen said, “before I decide to set the Direwolves on that little shit Joffrey and Queen Cersei. I can’t travel with them any longer. Ready yourselves we will ride to Kingslanding on our horses.”
Sandor Clegane and his riders came pounding through the castle gate, back from their hunt.
There was something slung over the back of his destrier, a heavy shape wrapped in a bloody cloak. “No sign of your sister, boy,” the Hound rasped down, “but the day was not wholly wasted. We got her little pet.” He reached back and shoved the burden off, and it fell with a thump in front of Torrhen.
Torrhen for a moment thought it was Nymeria. But Winter and Lady would not have stayed calm if it was Nymeria that was in the cloak. They would have known. Torrhen bent and removed the cloak, it was the butcher’s boy, Mycah, his body covered in dried blood. He had been cut almost in half from shoulder to waist by some terrible blow struck from above.
“You rode him down,” Father was behind him by then.
The Hound’s eyes seemed to glitter through the steel of that hideous dog’s-head helm. “He ran.” He looked at father’s face and laughed. “But not very fast.”
Torrhen rose and walked back to the castle. He would have a word with the King.