Chapter 9: The Hour of The Wolf
Chapter 10 : 'Is a man worth a Throne'
Chapter 11 : 'In the Eyes of the Seven'
Chapter 12 : 'The Hand of the King'
Chapter 13 : 'The Rulers of the Red Keep'
Chapter 14 : 'The Queen and the Hand'
Chapter 15 : 'The Shadow of Arthur Stark
Chapter 16 : 'The Nastiest Viper'
Chapter 17 : ' A Game of Pain & Passion'
Chapter 18 : 'A Tale of Waters and Snow'
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Chapter IX: The Hour of the Wolf
Since his first night inside the Red Keep, Arthur hadn't had one good night of sleep, not once. Not because his bed was uncomfortable, for it was the most comfortable he had ever slept in, but because while his body rested, his mind did not. One of the first things he had read about the Red Keep, had been the secret passages of Maegor the Cruel. A maze inside a palace. A trap within home.
So Arthur did what he had to do; he warged inside the mind of the first rat he saw, and send it through the first crack he saw. The first night made Arthur realize how much work he had if he wanted to discover all of Maegor's little secrets. One rat would not be enough, he needed a hundred.
That is when things started to get difficult, Arthur was a powerful warg, a very powerful one according to his Skagosi mentor. But even a powerful warg had limits, warging inside a hundred rats at the same time would be suicide. Arthur needed training as much as he needed rats. So, during the first fifty nights after he had entered Rhaenyra's service, he would leave the Red Keep through the secret passage he had found in his room during his first tour as a rat, and go to a rat-catcher's establishment in order to buy two rats. Many rat-catchers illegally kept the rodents they caught and sold them to bakers and weavers, in order for those to ruin their competitors' business within the capital. But never before had a client bought a hundred rats. Arthur took his time, trained his mind and his rats, kept his rodents within large cages hidden in the secret tunnels for no one to discover. The more he trained, the more rats he bought, and for every rat he failed to control, Shadow gained a snack. After almost two moons of intense training, he was finally able to control his hundred rats at the same time. It took him a week of nocturnal explorations to discover all of the secret passages within the Red Keep, three more days, and he had discovered the ones within Maegor's Holdfast. Two more weeks, and he knew the entire maze like the back of his hand. After many months spent in the capital, Arthur could now command all of his rats in his sleep without losing control of even one of the rodents.
His ability allowed him to spy on everyone inside the castle, two hundred eyes to watch more than four thousand residents. Every night, he learnt something new, every week, something meaningful.
But tonight, he did not see anything, instead, one of his rats caught a scent he knew all too well, for Shadow was now as familiar with it as he was with his.
The rodent hurried down the stairs to catch the visitor, who yelped when she saw it.
"Damn rat!" Rhaenyra growled, wearing rags that made her look like a young boy.
She kept eyeing the rodent with a scowl, then she ignored it and went on her way. Lying in his bed, Arthur opened his eyes and sighed in dismay.
"You gotta be shitting me." He growled as he got up in a blink, put his clothes and boots on, strapped his sword and dagger around his waist, and covered his head with a hood and his face with a scarf.
He warged back inside his rat's mind to catch up to her, and saw that Daemon had been waiting for her. The Rogue Prince was standing against the backdrop of the city of King's Landing, he smiled and went down the nearest stairs with Rhaenyra on his heels.
"Fuck." Arthur muttered and dashed through the secret door of his chamber with Shadow behind him.
(-)(-)(-)
Catching up to them had been a real trial for the Stark since uncle and niece mingled in the crowd like a drop of water in the ocean. Fortunately, he had Shadow. And even if the wolf had to meld in the darkness to stay out of sight, it could still smell Rhaenyra's unique scent in that sea of flesh. It took him almost half an hour, but he eventually spotted the ones he had been looking for. In order to avoid being spotted, he too, melded with the crowd, watching them from afar.
Daemon and Rhaenyra dashed through the long and narrow streets of King's Landing, eating strange treats and drinking foul-tasting homebrews. The Realm's Delight could not remember the last time she felt so happy and free, she fully immersed and betook herself to the various low places her took her within the shire of King's Landing, and there they did squander several hours of the night in the company of thieves, derelicts, miscreants, pariahs, spalpeens, curmudgeons, gamblers, bawds, whores, trulls, brigands, topers, tosspots, sots, lobcocks, smellsmocks, runagates, rakes, and other assorted and felonious debauchees.
Arthur and Shadow stayed out of their sight, only making sure their Princess and friend was safe. The Northerner wasn't mad at the Valyrian girl for enjoying herself, he knew she had needed to find a way to release her stress, as long as she did not do anything stupid, he would not judge her. She deserved it.
When the moon reached the position of the hour of the owl, a boy not older than ten climbed on a baril and declared:
"The matter of the Great Iron chair will be settled at Fishmonger's square! For those who wish to see the royal's feud, hurry, for this show is worth being viewed!"
Half the commoners abandoned what they were doing and went down the Muddy Way towards Fishmonger's Square. Arthur was about to follow Daemon and Rhaenyra when his sleeve was grabbed by bony fingers and sharp nails.
"Would you like to hear about your death, young man?" A blind crone cackled at his face. "Let me tell you this: the Stranger will hiss!"
"Then it's a good thing I follow the Old Gods," the Northerner curtly replied, freeing himself from the cackling crone and quickly catching up to the Prince and the Princess.
At Fishmonger's Square, a stage had been set up, and actors dressed in hideous makeup was welcoming his spectators.
"And now we come to the matter of the great iron chair... And whose bum it might bear!" the actor bellowed. His makeup was so appalling he looked more like a monkey than a man in Arthur's eyes, "Our great king names his daughter – a girl – his heir!"
A cry of boos and hollers came from the crowd that Daemon, Rhaenyra, and Arthur stood amongst.
"...Rhaenyra, the Realm's Delight, a girl so young and so slight. Loved by all her people... But, would she make a powerful queen? Or would she be feeble?"
Another outcry raptured from the audience. Arthur hoped Rhaenyra would keep her sharp tongue behind her teeth.
"...Though Aegon, the babe Prince, might long for a claim... He has two things Rhaenyra cannot: a conqueror's name! And a cock!"
"Lies! Slander!" Arthur heard his Princess' voice joining the crowds. For a brief moment, he feared that she would give away her disguise.
"Keep your bloody mouth shut…" He muttered, twenty meters behind her.
(-)(-)(-)
"Protest as you will," Daemon said, his eyes still on the show, "but many of the smallfolk are like to believe that as a man, Aegon should sit the Iron Throne."
Rhaenyra huffed, "the smallfolk's wants are of no consequence."
Daemon snickered.
"The smallfolk's wants are of great consequence if you expect to rule one day," he told her, but he could tell she was not listening.
"For one night, I wish to be free of the burden of my inheritance." She sighed in tiredness.
She could hear Daemon chuckle.
They left the swarm of people and went off to explore a different area of the city, Daemon took her to many places across the city, but as the hour of the Wolf approached, lavender's scent invaded Rhaenyra's nostrils.
Daemon led her to one specific destination. At first, she was bewildered as to the purposes of the building he had taken her, but quickly, the nature of the establishment became known.
"What is this place?" she found herself asking, even though she had already guessed.
"It is where people come to take what they want," her uncle answered, as he led her deeper and deeper into the depths of the whorehouse. "Watch the girls carefully," he whispered into her ear, "These girls earn their coin through the enticement of men. They, of all, know best how to allure."
Rhaenyra did as her uncle bid, her eyes taking in the pale and naked forms of the whores and trulls that surrounded her. The rational part of her mind screamed at her to storm out of the brothel, and run back to the Keep in disgust. But she could not stop her gaze – a precocious sort of curiosity polluting her good sense, and she struggled to pry her eyes off the wretches and queans that came together, nor could she stop herself from listening closely to the sounds made from the toils of orgasm.
Daemon suddenly removed the piece of clothes that had been covering her head, letting her straight silver hair fall as a shining waterfall on her shoulders. Some men and women around her raised their eyes from their partners' flesh to notice her, and she hurried on her uncle's heels to flee this embarrassing moment.
Daemon led her to a small room, where a powerful and arousing incense seized Rhaenyra's nose and caused her to cough a little, she suddenly felt her heart beating faster, her inner parts getting wet and her senses arousing.
If Daemon said something, Rhaenyra barely registered his words as she gazed at the writhing of flesh around her. There was altogether too much of it, and she found herself whelmed with the scent of it all. Going awash in the sheer unrestraint that she never thought was possible. Something filled her body and mind, as if a spell had been cast on her by the very witch of fuck.
"Marriage is a duty, yes," her uncle said, "but that doesn't stop us from doing what we want. From fucking who we want."
She found herself spinning around, and staring Daemon in the eyes. At that moment, she felt that something was there, and she could tell that he felt it too. His hands had still been on her shoulders, and the feeling of warm flesh on hers ignited a fire within. Her mind was filled with want. A warmth filled her belly, and her breath intermingled with his as they leaned toward each other.
Daemon's lips tasted like rum, he probably had more of it than she did. She let her right hand run through his hair while the other explored his body under his clothes, his skin was soft to the touch and his muscles firm. His teeth started to gently bite her lips, and she understood that he wanted more. He pinned her against a wall and started kissing her neck, a moan escaped her lips as she felt herself being dragged into a whirlpool of pleasure. Daemon's hands went to her breasts, gently massaging her hard nipples, she moaned again.
Then, his fingers went down, and Rhaenyra's eyes suddenly widened. She pushed her uncle back so violently that she caught him off guard and almost made him trip on his own legs.
"No." She whispered, as she tried to catch her breath, still aroused. "I-I I must remain a maiden…"
It was one of the first thing Arthur had made her promise, and if she had found his request ridiculous and presumptuous at that time, she now understood why he had insisted; if she were to loose her maidenhead, she would loose the throne.
Daemon looked at her with a strange gaze, both disappointed and vexed… and perhaps… perhaps there was understanding as well, in those deep purple eyes of his.
The Rogue Prince let out a deep sigh.
"I see, forgive me."
And then suddenly, he was gone, storming off into the darkness with an air that conveyed disgust.
"Daemon?" Rhaenyra called, glancing helplessly around the whorehouse. That is when she noticed the clothes that she hadn't realized she had lost, and hastened to cover herself up. Humiliation and frustration fluttered through her body.
She looked around, desperately searching for help, but all she saw was a sea of flesh and sweat, whose moans kept invading her hears.
Feeling her breath going erratic and her private parts getting wetter, Rhaenyra rushed through the building's corridors, desperately looking for a way out. A powerful gloved hand suddenly grabbed her wrist, and another covered her mouth to prevent her from screaming.
She paralyzed herself and widened her eyes in terror, the man who had grabbed her was tall and strong, he was wearing a hood and had a scarf around his face, yet, the Princess managed to notice those grey eyes of his, and she instantly recognized them.
A confused frown appeared on her face, signaling the man that she had recognized him. He put his hand off her mouth.
"Arthur?" She asked, whispering.
The Stark temporarily lowered his scarf for her to confirm his identity and pulled her hair up to hide it behind the piece of clothes Daemon had removed earlier.
"Let's get out of here." He muttered
Rhaenyra was more than happy to obey, reassured to have a new protector by her side.
They left the brothel together, and disappeared into the darkness of the street.
(-)(-)(-)
Five minutes after they had left the whorehouse, Rhaenyra grew nervous, Arthur had not spoken a word, he was dragging gently but firmly towards the Red Keep.
"Were you following me?" She asked.
"Yes."
A single word, pronounced with an impassive tone. The Princess' nervousness increased.
"Since when have you been following me?"
"Since you stepped one foot outside the Red Keep," he answered cryptically.
Rhaenyra's eyes almost popped out their sockets, she reviewed everything she had done tonight and realized Arthur had seen it all.
"You were there," she almost accused him, "This whole time, you've been watching me."
"I was and I have."
Again with the short impassive answers, Rhaenyra was going to have a hard time pulling the truth out of him.
Then, she realized they were going around the Red Keep, and not straight to it.
"Why are we making a detour?"
"To avoid Flea Bottom."
That made sense, at least she was safe with Arthur by her side.
"Where is Shadow?"
The Direwolf's eyes suddenly appeared next to her, startling her. Had he been here this whole time?
She held out her hand to pet him, but Shadow refused her touch and growled at her, shocking her. The Direwolf had never acted that way toward her.
"You reek of your uncle's scent." Arthur informed her as if it was obvious. "He is not gonna let you approach him until you've taken a bath."
The Princess felt her body crumbling, as if someone had hit her with a hammer.
"You… you saw that?"
"It was hard to miss, I had to bribe the guard to enter the brothel with my face hidden."
Rhaenyra suddenly stopped walking, she was so consumed by shame that she looked at her feet in disgust. Arthur let out a sigh.
"Why did you not stop it?" She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I almost did. I was close to knock some teeth out of Daemon's mouth. But I chose not to."
"Why?"
"Because I realized that if you were feeble enough to do it once, you would do it again. Meaning my presence was useless since you would have been willing to cause your own ruin for a moment of pleasure. Had you fucked your uncle, I would have been gone from this disgusting city by the morning."
Rhaenyra widened her eyes in horror, not once had she thought herself this close to lose her only friend, she couldn't even begin to imagine what she would do without him.
"Why?" She actually whispered in disbelief. "No one would have known…"
Arthur looked at her as if she was the dumbest girl in the Seven Kingdoms.
"Are you fucking stupid?" He asked crudely, now being the one in disbelief.
Rhaenyra was so shocked by his insult that she found her voice missing, never in a million years had she expected Arthur Stark to talk to her like that.
"Everyone already knows." He hissed through his teeth. "The moment Daemon revealed your hair for all to see, every person that saw you in that place identified you. By the morrow, everyone in King's Landing will know that you were in a brothel with your uncle and people will gossip. Everyone will believe you fucked him even if you didn't do it, you should expect your father at your door the moment you wake."
Rhaenyra remained speechless, slowly processing everything her adviser told her. She couldn't believe it, she… this… this was a nightmare! How? Why? How could…?
It took her a whole minute to realize what had happened, and even if everything pointed to that conclusion, she could not believe it…
"Daemon… He… He tricked me? He betrayed me?"
"Betray you?" Arthur rolled his eyes. "What made you think he was on your side in the first place? Had he managed to fuck you, you would have been forced to marry him to escape a scandale and to keep your claim to the throne."
"B-But Daemon's already wed!"
"And you think him incapable of murdering his 'Bronze Bitch'?" The Northerner asked, his patience running thin. "Now let's get back to the Red Keep before dawn. The Hour of the Wolf is almost over, the moon will shine again during the hour of the Nightingale, making our entrance harder to hide."
Rhaenyra did not answer, she simply let him drag her along the streets like a walking rag doll. As he dragged her back to the Red Keep, she tried to understand everything that was happening to her, and in what kind of situation she was in since she had been named heir to the Throne. All the lords were lusting after her, all the ladies badmouthed her, the common people did not want her, her mother was dead, her best and only friend had betrayed her, married her father and produced a male heir, her uncle had tricked her to win the throne for himself, her father barely supported and defended her… She had nothing, she had no one, she was… alone… well… almost alone.
She did not question Arthur regarding his knowledge of the secret passages inside the Red Keep, even though he looked like he knew exactly where he was going, while she had a hard time recognizing which corridor she had gone through to leave the castle.
What she did question, however, were the numerous cages filled with rats that were lined up against a wall.
"Why are there so many rats in here?" She almost screeched in disgust.
"That is for me to know, and for you to never find out." Arthur curtly replied, which made Rhaenyra feel like a child.
The corridors ended up looking familiar, and the Princess now knew her adviser was bringing her back to her chamber. That was until he suddenly stopped to press a brick, triggering a mechanism that revealed a door to his own room, he motioned for Shadow to enter and followed him while taking off his hood and scarf, Rhaenyra was about to follow when he turned to block her way.
"Your room is the third door on right." He indicated emotionlessly with his finger.
Rhaenyra felt like someone had ripped her heart from her chest and squeezed it in front of her eyes. Yet she tried to hide her despair behind anger.
"How do you know that?" She demanded.
"I've never been inside your room, I just know where it is."
"How?"
"That is for me to know, and for you to never find out, goodnight Rhaenyra."
But the Princess refused to let it end like that. Before he even had the time to put his hand on the secret door, she rushed inside his room and hugged him fiercely, catching him off guard. She tightened her embrace as hard as she could, she feared he'd disappear, she feared being rejected, she feared being alone.
Her sudden embrace broke Arthur's stone face, he had not expected that, and he did not know what to do. Rhaenyra had managed to frustrate, exasperate and infuriate him tonight, but he could not find it in him to push her away, judging by the way she was clinging to him.
He did not want to return the hug either, what had happened had deeply wounded him, even if he would never admit it out loud. His wolfsblood had boiled like it never had before when he had seen her and Daemon. He knew he was attracted by her, and that his reaction had been mere jealousy, yet, the fact that she had seemed willing to sacrifice everything they had done, and to throw away everything they had planned in order to lay with her uncle had deeply disappointed him. It was only because she had ended up repelling Daemon that he had decided to stay by her side. But that did not mean he didn't have feelings, that didn't mean he was not disappointed, that didn't mean he wasn't hurt.
A sob escaped Rhaenyra's lips, Arthur widened his eyes.
He had never seen her cry, not with his own eyes. He had never expected her to show weakness, not even in private.
Rhaenyra slowly rose her head to look at her friend's confused grey eyes, shamefully showing her tears and her despair.
"I… I…" She whispered, unable to find her words.
Needless to say she felt horrible, she was suffocating. Everyone was against her! Everyone wanted to shame her! The World itself wanted to hurt her! Everyone but Arthur…
"Please don't betray me." She whispered, it was such a pitiful plea, but she did not know what else to do. She didn't know what else to say. "You're my only friend…"
Her desperate gaze melted his icy heart in a matter of seconds, his anger and frustration disappeared and only compassion remained, finally, he locked his arms around her shoulders and hugged her back.
"I won't." He promised, and she instantly believed him.
She let her head fall against his chest, and cried again. She released all the emotions she had accumulated over the years, for in his arms, she felt safe. For the first time in years, she had a place where she could wash away her worries.
She didn't know how long she cried, perhaps half an hour, but she didn't care, surprisingly, she really didn't care. She felt so comfortable in Arthur's arms, and she knew he would never chastise her for releasing her tears. Despite the fact that she had managed to calm herself, she found that she didn't want to leave, at all. Who cared what people would say? She didn't want to drink tea and eat cake with ladies, she didn't want to sit on the small council listing to Otto's attempts to manipulate her father, she didn't even want to sit on the Iron Throne! She wanted to stay in her Northerner's arms forever, where no one would torment her.
Once again, she rose her head to meet his eyes, and found nothing but affection and warmth. Hypnotized and desperate to feel all the promises those grey orbs held, she stood on her tiptoes to try to catch his lips with his, but his hand blocked the way and shattered her fantasy.
In an instant, Rhaenyra was reminded of who she was, what was expected of her, why Arthur was by her side and not in Winterfell, why she could never have everything she wanted.
In an instant, her northerner's grey eyes hardened.
"No." He muttered firmly.
The Princess felt like he had punched her.
"Why?" She breathed.
"You know why, Rhaenyra. Whatever there is between us… it's not worth it."
The Targaryen girl suddenly felt a volcano erupt inside her.
"It is to me!" She screamed.
Arthur covered her mouth with his hand, and threw her a furious glare.
"No it's not." He stated coldly. "Whatever this is, it's not love…"
"How do you know that?" She demanded, her temper burning like one of Valyria's fourteen flames.
"Because I've been in love before." He replied, his voice cold as a blizzard of the Lands of Eternal Winter. "And I know that is not what I'm feeling for you."
Rhaenyra was stabbed right into her heart, his blizzard extinguishing her flame in a blink. Arthur did not love her. Of all the things that had happened to her in the past four years, nothing had ever hurt her like his words.
She released him, and let her arms fell beside her hips, strengthless. Her head lowered to hide the pain on her face.
"Why?" She whispered to herself, wondering why she would never find a bit of happiness in her miserable life filled with liars, schemers and traitors.
But Arthur thought she had spoken to him, and felt that he needed to make sure she would never try to kiss him, ever again.
"I do not want your uncle's saliva on my lips." He bluntly stated.
His words tore open Rhaenyra's reason, reminding her of Daemon's betrayal and the humiliation she had suffered from his hands. She slapped Arthur so hard she split his lower lip open, and then she fled, not through the secret passage, but through the actual door to the stunned Northerner's room. She ran across the Red Keep's corridors to her room, her eyes filled with tears and her heart torn to shreds.
The Stark had needed a few seconds to realize what had happened, he quickly close his door, then the door of the secret passage, then he felt the taste of blood in his mouth and spat a trickle of blood in his chamberpot.
A long and tired sigh filled with regrets escaped his mouth, as he undressed himself to resume his sleep, he crossed his direwolf's reproachful gaze.
"What are you looking at?" He growled, his own wolfsblood was boiling.
Shadow immediately lowered his head in submission, something his friend couldn't bare to see.
"Sorry." He whispered, kneeling to scratch his companion's head. "I'm sorry, boy. The night's been long."
He wiped his blood with the back of his hand, and allowed his direwolf to lick it.
"Far too long…"
(-)(-)(-)
Rhaenyra ran along the corridors of the Red Keep, not caring who might see her, not caring if she was crying, the only thing she could think about was her pillow.
She rushed past Ser Criston Cole, ever dutifully standing guard at her door, only realizing that she had snuck out once he saw her storming back into her bedchambers, and slamming her doors behind her. "Princess?" he asked, confusion plaguing his voice. "Princess, are you hurt?" She heard him through the wood of her doors. "... I should alert the Lord Commander," he said, after she failed to respond.
"No," Rhaenyra hissed, as she threw open the door. Ser Criston looked at her bewildered, and his discomposure only grew when he noticed her tears.
"Are you alright?" He asked, his voice laced with concern.
"No." She answered honestly. "There is no need to alert anyone for a stupid girl with a broken heart, Ser."
Realization dawned upon the Kingsguard who lowered his head apologetically.
"I see, I'm sorry Princess."
"Thank you, Ser."
She closed the door and smothered her cries in her pillow, yet, Ser Criston Cole heard each of her sobs. His grip on his sword tightened a little more each time.
(-)(-)(-)
Arthur was awoken far too early for his taste from a restless sleep by a man furiously drumming on his door.
"Open this door, by order of the King."
The Northerner frowned, put his doublet on and went to open his door while Shadow had started growling.
"What is the meaning of this?" He demanded, though the sight of three kingsguards gave him a bad feeling.
"By order of the King, Viserys Targaryen, the first of his name, you are under arrest, Arthur Stark."
The Northerner could not believe his ears.
"On what charges?"
"Treason."
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