Game of Thrones Iron Stark

Even though every advisor told Robb to keep Rickon's death quiet, he refused.

He held the funeral in the wolfswood and sent ravens south to King's Landing. Ned and Catelyn needed to know.

Catelyn read the letter and collapsed. When she woke she went straight to Ned with tears still on her face.

"Eddard, Rickon was our youngest. We never gave him enough. I'm going back. I have to."

Ned looked at her and said nothing.

"You won't come with me?" Catelyn's voice rose. "You would rather stay here and serve your king than bury your own son?"

"Robert is my brother," Ned answered quietly. "I've already lost one."

He did not need to say Brandon's name. They both remembered the screams from the throne room.

Catelyn stared at him for a long moment, then turned away.

"I'm taking the girls. Sansa and Arya are coming home with me. At least they won't have to suffer here any longer."

She walked out without looking back.

Ned's guard captain waited until she was gone before stepping inside.

"My lord. The king summons you."

---

In the finest brothel in King's Landing, Littlefinger raised a cup with Joffrey.

The prince was in high spirits. A girl sat in his lap, doing her best to keep him happy. Baelish had promised the girls good coin if they kept the prince smiling.

"Now that Cat and Eddard are divided," Littlefinger said, "we take the next step. We cut him off from Robert completely. Then we remove him."

Joffrey laughed, golden hair bright even in the dim light. "Without Eddard Stark whispering in my father's ear, the throne will be mine. Finally."

---

Robert was already half-drunk when Ned arrived.

"Eddard! The lords are pouring in. Tywin Lannister, that fat flower from Highgarden, and Oberyn Martell with his red viper tongue. Come meet them with me."

Ned bowed his head. "As you command, Your Grace."

Robert studied him. "You look like shit. What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing, Your Grace."

Robert grunted but let it go. He had no idea Rickon Stark was already in the ground.

---

Catelyn found Sansa and Arya and told them.

They held each other and cried until there were no tears left.

Sansa wanted to go home. Arya wanted blood.

"The killer is here," Arya said. "Robb said someone hired the Faceless Men."

Syrio Forel, who had been teaching her, spoke quietly from the corner.

"The Faceless Men do not fail. And they do not come cheap. They serve the Many-Faced God. Death is their gift."

He told them the old story — how the first Faceless Man had been a slave in the mines of old Valyria, how he had understood that all gods were one god with many faces, and how he began giving the gift of death to those who could no longer bear their suffering.

"They can change their faces," Syrio said. "They can become anyone. And once they have your name, they will find you."

Arya's small hand tightened on Needle.

"I'm going to Braavos," she said. "I'll join them. I'll find out who paid for Rickon's death."

Catelyn grabbed her arm. "No. You are not leaving."

Arya looked at her mother, then at Sansa.

"A wolf can travel a thousand miles and still eat meat. I'll be fine."

She pulled free, slung Needle across her back, and walked out of the room without looking back.

Sansa started to follow. Catelyn caught her wrist.

"Let her go," Catelyn whispered, voice breaking. "Just… take care of me instead."

Outside, Arya did not look back at the Red Keep.

She headed for the docks and the first ship that would carry her across the Narrow Sea.