Part Three of Three
As they stood in the godswood, Robert secured the silver bracelet of linked wolves around Arya's wrist, hoping to bind her to him.
When he commissioned the trinket more than a month ago, he planned to present it upon their official engagement. But her manner with him suddenly appeared so cold and reserved. Where she had once chattered away and told him whatever was on her mind, she now recited practiced phrases and gave guarded replies. Robert hoped a gift would make her warm to him again.
Arya did smile when she noted the golden topaz eyes on the wolves. "Like Nymeria's."
That hadn't been his intent. Robert wished to blend their House colors – her grey and his gold. But the king didn't correct her as she held out her wrist for that beast of hers to inspect.
Yet, when she thanked him it was all lady-like graciousness with a load of blather about how honored and humbled she was by the gesture.
She bit her lip as she continued to examine the bracelet.
"Why does the queen think I want to hurt her children?" Arya asked suddenly. "Joffrey is a little shit, but- what I mean to say is, I never harmed them or her brother. Though I would have if I could. The Kingslayer that is, not the children. But why?"
"Damned if I know," Robert said. But he had wondered on that as well. Many times over the years Cersei had made outlandish accusations before to get what she wanted, but this was quite odd. "She is grieving and stabbing at shadows."
Arya looked back down at the bracelet.
"It is beautiful, Your Grace, but I can't wear it, not until we talk to Father," she said. But they could not talk to Ned until after he set Cersei aside, a possibility that moved further and further out of reach.
"Soon," Robert vowed, kissing her hand. "Ned won't be pleased at first, but he will come round."
"He should be pleased," Arya said. "He wants me to marry your brother because he is Lord of Storm's End. He wants me to marry Willas Tyrell because he will be Lord of Highgarden. You are Lord of the Seven Kingdoms. He and Mother will be happy that I did so well for our House."
Robert frowned. "Most ladies do not speak of their betrothals so."
She twisted her face in confusion. "Why not? Isn't that what marriage is about? Choosing the right husband or wife based on their title or their father's title?"
"What?" She looked up at him innocently. "Isn't that the truth of it?"
He cupped her cheek wondering how she had gotten these notions so young. None of the singers spun tales of marriage contracts, useful alliances, and dowries.
One drink would do no harm. Robert swirled the strongwine in the glass contemplating it.
An audience with the High Septon had left him wroth with frustration. He did not out and out ask the man if he would support him in setting his wife aside. He just hinted at it, trying for that subtly he was so unaccustomed to, for all the good it did him.
Cersei was right, damn her. She had out bid Robert with the Faith. Even the slightest hint of what Robert intended sent the man into about House Lannister's virtues – the queen most of all.
"Oh, before the conquest a number of kings in the past were unfortunate enough to be forced to set their wives aside due to their inability to produce children or if she were found guilty of a great crime," the High Septon said. "Your Grace is lucky not to suffer that misfortune. Our good queen has fulfilled her duty with two strong princes and a princess too."
Robert had returned to his solar to think on how to proceed. But he was not to have any solitude for the guard soon announced that Ser Horas Redwyne was outside and requesting an audience.
"One of the Redwyne twins," Ser Arys said. "Lord Paxter of the Arbor's son and heir. I told him Your Grace and the council were to hold court on the morrow for any petitions, but he claims this is a matter of great import only to be discussed with the king immediately. Will you see him?"
Robert continued to swirl the wine. "Bring him in, bring him in."
A plain red-haired knight walked in looking very pleased with himself as he went through all the necessary courtesies. Robert remembered seeing him compete in the Hand's Tourney but failed to remember who he unhorsed.
"Your Grace, mine uncle, Lord Mace Tyrell, has written bidding me speak with you on the great matter of your marriage," he said. "He is-"
"My marriage?" Robert demanded. "And why in the seven hells would he do that?"
Startled, Ser Horas suddenly didn't look near so pleased. "Well… he wishes to know how you fare in- in settling things – in setting the queen aside, that is."
"What would Mace Tyrell know of that?"
"Your brother, Your Grace. Lord Renly. He told my uncle. He said you had settled it with him that you wished to set your wife aside and take the Lady Margaery to wife. Mine uncle only wished to know how you fared and how he might be of -"
"Lady Margaery?! I have never laid eyes on the girl! I am warning you, boy, if this is some sort of jape-"
"No, Your Grace, this is no jape, I swear it," Ser Horas insisted. "My uncle truly wrote to me. He wishes to marry Margaery to you and his son to the Hand's daughter. He only wanted me to-"
"The Hand's daughter?! Lady Arya?"
"Yes, he wishes to form alliances so we might fight the Lannisters together should they prove difficult. Truly, Your Grace, this is the truth. This is what I was told. Forgive me if I misspoke."
"Have you spoken to the Hand of this?"
"Not as yet. Uncle Mace wished to write to him directly in response to Lord Stark's proposal. He wrote to make a match between Willas and his oldest girl and-"
"Out! Now, damn you!" Robert threw the wine at the young knight as he ran.
"Truly, Ned, this is folly," Robert said. He prowled Ned's solar furiously. "What are you thinking making betrothals with the Tyrells at a time like this? Lord Mace is surely mourning the Ser Loras."
At least he damn well should be instead of trying to his daughter onto me.
"I wrote him before all of this began," Ned said. "I wanted to arrange a visit to Highgarden so Arya might meet Tyrell's heir and I could discuss the possibility of a marriage contract with Lord Mace. I had no thought of receiving an answer at a time like this. But just as well. Willas Tyrell will make a very good match for Arya. I hear he is a good man."
"What does Lady Arya say of this?"
"Robert." Ned regarded him coldly. Why are you concerning yourself with Arya's betrothal?"
A moment passed before he realized his mouth was open. Quickly, he smiled.
"Ned! Don't be a bloody fool. You and I are more than just a King and his Hand. We're close as family. Of course I care about our family."
His friend's stare remained as cold and impassive as the wall.
"Arya has Lya's look," he said.
"Aye, she does."
"But she is not Lyanna," Eddard said. "You would do well to remember that."
Not long after Jaime's body began its journey down the Goldroad to rest at Casterly Rock, a party of knights, soldiers, and smallfolk made their way up to the capital. Their original intent was to present witnesses to the king and his court of the atrocities Gregor Clegane reaped upon the Riverlands and plead for permission to seek vengeance on Tywin Lannister and his mad dog. Instead, their news contained an added urgency.
The Lannister army was moving in haste toward King's Landing.
They collected the information from one of Clegane's men after a skirmish. On their way to the capital, they took the Mountain and his men by surprise where the Goldroad dipped into the Riverlands. Clegane had attacked a party of armored men who traveled under no banner with three children. They drove Clegane off, but the party under attack was killed save one of the boys. The man they captured was near death, but was able to tell them that Clegane's troops were sent to burn a path ahead of the main force of the Lannister army. Ser Jaime's death had apparently proved the greater offense when weighed against Tyrion's kidnapping. Thus the old lion planned on seeking swift vengeance by taking King's Landing and sitting his grandson on the throne quickly before the rest of the realm had time to take notice.
As the court hummed and hissed with the news, Pycelle balked at the story. Standing on shaky feet he denounced the notion that Tywin Lannister would march on Robert, who was his son by the laws of gods and men. He also insisted that the atrocities they were describing couldn't possibly have been the work of Lord Tywin or the anointed knight Gregor Clegane.
The knights responded by presenting the witnesses who described a savage warrior of monstrous size who cut men in half, burned villages, and raped women and children. Though he flew no banner, he could only be the Mountain That Rides, or so Ser Raymun Darry claimed.
"This one here saw and recognized the Mountain," Ser Raymun said as his men carried forth a small plump boy with dark curls. The blood soaking through his filthy clothing and the whimpering sound he made every time the men carrying him took a step made it clear the boy should be nowhere but a bedchamber receiving care for his wounds.
They placed the makeshift litter before the council table. When Robert rose from that monstrous uncomfortable throne to get a closer look at the lad, the other council members followed.
"The boy was pleading for mercy from Clegane when we reached him," Ser Marq Piper said. "Called him by name. Tell them, boy."
The lad weakly opened his eyes revealing them to be a vivid green. Those eyes meekly searched the sea of faces above him before settling on Robert.
"Father," he rasped out. "Father…help me… please…"
"This is no time for a prayer. Tell the king of Clegane."
"Father, please…It's me, Tommen…I am, Tommen…They won't listen."
"Out of his wits," Baelish said in a bored tone.
"Why have you brought a boy half out of his mind and in need of a maester's care before the king and council?" Pycelle demanded.
The boy's green eyes remained locked on Robert in a plea. Those eyes looked so familiar, but this plump boy with dirt on his face and dark curls could not possibly be Tommen. Yet, those were Cersei's eyes, Robert would swear to it.
"His hair," Ned said. "Could that be dye?"
Barristan knelt beside the child and gently stroked his dark curls. His fingertips came away stained.
"Ser Arys," Barristan called. "Go to Maegor's. Ensure that all three of the royal children are safe."
"Which member of the Kingsguard is with them?" Ned asked.
"The queen wanted them under the sole charge of the Lannister household guard," the lord commander said, looking as wretched as Robert felt. "I have a white Cloak look in on them once a day. Since they were taken ill they have each been found abed."
"Pycelle!" Robert did not lift his gaze from Tommen – for Tommen it was. How did he not know immediately? "Did you know of this?"
"Know of what, Your Grace?" the old man asked. "You could not be suggesting this-"
"If the princes and princess have fallen ill, surely you would have been at their bedsides every day," Ned said.
"It is not a true sickness the children are suffering from," Pycelle stammered. "It is an illness of the mind, not the body. It is grief – grief for their fallen uncle – that they suffer from. The queen agreed. I saw no need to call upon them again. Your Grace, my lord Hand, surely you do not believe this raving child's claim. How would Prince Tommen have traveled out of King's Landing without anyone the wiser? No, these false knights have brought a half crazed boy before us to help spread their lies about Lord Tywin."
"How dare you, old man!" Ser Raymun shouted. "You need only wait a few days when the Lannister host is crashing against the city walls to know the truth in our words."
Robert knelt beside Barristan. "Tommen, tell us the truth of this."
The entire court was silent and straining to hear. The boy barely managed to rasp out some words about his mother sending him, Joffrey, and Myrcella to Casterly Rock in disguise for their safety. By the time he finished, Ser Arys returned with confirmation. The royal children were not in their chambers. In their places were Lannisport Lannisters.
"You mentioned two other children in the party," Barristan said.
Robert looked up at the river knights. They looked ready to piss themselves.
Ser Marq fell to one knee, followed by the others. "Forgive me, Your Grace. We could not save them. We buried their bodies and those of their escort beside the road."
The crown prince and the princess of the Iron Throne buried beside a road in unmarked graves…
The lords and ladies of the court buzzed with excitement, not even bothering to whisper any longer.
"We must bring an end to this," Ned said.
Robert rose to his feet and bellowed for silence before calling an end to the court session.
Two of his children were dead, a third was on his way to the Stranger, and Tywin Lannister was marching in haste toward the capital. Yet he didn't feel grief or fear or rage or much of anything, save old and tired.
"I should have known," Robert said as he and Eddard followed Tommen's shabby litter toward the Tower of the Hand.
They could not take him to Maegor's because the gold cloaks were raiding the royal apartments to arrest Cersei, the remaining Lannister guards, and all the servants responsible for assisting in concealing the royal children's kidnapping.
"What kind of man is none the wiser when his children are missing?" he asked. "What sort of king has no idea what' going on in his castle?"
Ned had no answers for him.
As they neared the Tower of the Hand, shouting could be heard, sounding suspiciously familiar.
Robert sped up his pace, leaving Ned and the guards who assisted him behind. He charged past he guard at the door. Barristan and Arys were beside him as he found Cersei and Arya once again in heated argument. This time Stark and Lannister household guards stood about them on either side. One of the grey cloaks was attempting to sooth the situation. Arya's septa looked ready to faint in horror.
The chamber slowly quieted as he entered. Arya was last to notice him.
"…and I will see your head on a spike!"
Suddenly aware of the silence, she looked about her to find Robert stepping further into the room and Ned entering with the assistance of his men.
"Did you hear her?" Cersei demanded.
"Do you think me deaf, woman?"
"And you would let this savage girl speak to your queen thus?" Then she smiled and laughed. "Oh, I had forgotten. You mean to set me aside for this." She gestured to Arya, who was garbed in the dirty cut off breeches she wore while training with her Braavosi. "No wonder she thinks she can strut about speaking to me as she likes."
Piper and Darry stood behind Ned carrying Tommen. "Should we take the boy elsewhere, Your Grace?"
"No," Eddard answered. "Poole, show them to a spare room and see to it that he is made as comfortable as possible."
Cersei barely gave Tommen a glace. With the crown of his head covered in dark curls instead of gold, even his mother didn't recognize him.
"Your betrothed informed me you are to be married," Cersei said, still smiling. "Oh, yes, she gloated quite wantonly of how she would take my place, take everything that is mine, and see my head on a spike for what I supposedly did to her crippled brother."
"What madness is this?" Ned demanded.
"Ser Barristan, see to the queen," Robert said.
The old knight stepped forward, but the two Lannister men blocked his path.
"Stand aside in the name of the king," Barristan commanded.
The two lions looked uncertain, but they stood their ground.
"Does Lord Stark truly have no idea that you have been panting after his daughter all these months or is he just being coy?" Cersei asked.
The king could feel Ned's gaze on him. "Robert?"
"Oh, don't you want your good friend to hear?" Cersei asked with mock innocence. "I will not be sent to my chambers like a petulant child while you attempt to explain this away."
"You have the right of it there," the king said. "You will not be sent to your chambers. You will be taken to the black cells like a criminal."
The defiance paled from Cersei's face.
"Is she being arrested for what she did to Bran and Jon Arryn?" Arya asked.
"No, child," Barristan said. "We are arresting the queen for taking the royal children and spiriting them away without the king's knowledge and permission, which is paramount to kidnapping and treason."
Cersei seemed to calm a bit and turned back to her husband. "Have you finally noticed they are gone? It has only been a fortnight. They will be safe at the Rock. Safe from her and her plots."
"They weren't safe from your father's men," Robert said.
"What are you saying?"
"Damn you, Cersei, they are dead! You sent our children to their deaths!"
My children are dead.
The numbness ebbed away revealing the full reality. His children were dead or dying and he didn't even notice they were gone until one was thrust before him.
My children are dead.
"No, you are saying this to frighten me," she insisted, not at all certain of her own words. "They are safe at Casterly Rock by now."
"Get her out of here Barristan, or gods help me I will choke the life from her!"
The red cloaks finally stepped aside and the lord commander escorted Cersei out. She could still be heard for some time proclaiming it wasn't true and begging the old knight to tell her it was all a lie.
A long uncomfortable silence followed the departure.
"Robert!" Ned growled. "You tell me there is no truth in what the queen said about you and my daughter."
"Father, we are to marry once he sets the queen aside," Arya said, quickly.
"Is that what you told my daughter before robbing her of her virtue? Damn you, Robert! She is my daughter and younger than your oldest girl!"
"I didn't touch her, Ned, I swear it."
"You swear? The Others take your oaths and vows. I more than anyone know their worth. Would that my leg were healed, I would-"
"Father, there was no robbing of any virtue," Arya insisted. "I still-"
"Arya," Ned's voice snapped sharply. "To your room. Desmond, see that she does not leave her chambers."
Ned silenced her with a look and she sullenly made her way up the winding steps. Before disappearing, Arya stopped and turned on Ned.
"It was you who said I'd marry a king and my sons would be princes and lords and knights and a High Septon. And you were right."
Another of those monstrous silences followed her final departure.
"Ned," Robert began.
"There is an army bearing down upon us and your son may be dying," Ned interrupted. "I will not fight with you now. You should go to the prince. I will see to fortifying the city and sending ravens."
Tommen died a few hours before sunrise with the dirt of the Goldroad still covering him.
Robert stayed with him until the end. I was the most time he had spent with the boy all at once. He tried to recall any close moments between the two of them, but could think of nothing.
For the remainder of the day and into the night, Grand Maester Pycelle scurried about more quickly than the king had ever seen the old man move, desperately trying to save the young prince's life. But if Robert knew much of anything it was of death. He'd seen enough of it; he'd caused enough of it. As the night stretched on, the stench of death only grew more foul.
Tommen slipped away at last after Pycelle finally accepted that he had failed and gave the boy milk of the poppy to ease his passing.
Silently, Robert watched them carry his son's body away to the Silent Sisters. He wanted to hurt, no, kill something. He wanted to twist Pycelle's head off that frail neck. He wanted to choke the life from Cersei. He would have to settle for Tywin Lannister though.
The white knight stepped forward from his place against the wall. "Forgive me, Your Grace. We have failed-"
"Find Ned. I would speak with him if he is awake. I would know what is being done to defend the city."
"Your Grace, surely you could do with sleep and some time-"
"Find Ned and don't make me repeat the order again."
His old friend was still awake and meeting with Janos Slynt, Varys, and Barristan in the council chamber. With frozen eyes and icy courtesy, Ned gave a report of their progress. Ravens had been sent to holdfast throughout the Corwnlands, to Storm's End, to Dragonstone, and to Riverrun where a fresh army waited. Slynt, always preening and deferential, assured the king that the City Watch would hold King's Landing for as long as necessary. Lords, knights, squires, and retainers who remained at court after the Hand's Tourney were also alerted and at the ready.
"The city will hold," Eddard said.
"Good, good." Robert gave a tired sigh. "Leave us, the lot of you. I want to speak with Ned."
The others shuffled out with bows and vows of victory.
"Are you certain you should be away from your son's side?" Ned asked once they were alone.
"Tommen is dead."
Ned's impassive face melted. "The prince is dead? Robert- Gods be good. My condolences." He looked around unable to find something more to say. "Barristan and I will take the command and hold the city until our levies arrive. You are in no state to be in a war room."
"I have no fit place but a war room unless it's a battlefield." Or a bed chamber. But he stopped himself before adding that bit.
"Mightn't you wish to go to the royal sept and-"
"Pray?" Robert asked. "No. I want to be doing something, damn it all! I will not stand for any of this waiting and beseeching the gods."
"As of now, we can do no more than wait." Ned sighed. "The ravens are sent, the orders are given. Now we wait for Lannister to come."
Tywin Lannister no doubt thought to find King's Landing unaware and feebly defended. Instead, the capital was on high alert and far from defenseless.
When the scouts returned with news of the army's approach, there was a sense of high excitement. Robert hadn't had a good battle in nine years. But for all the cheers and blessings the king received from the smallfolk as he and the Kingsguard road through the streets toward the Lion Gate, they felt fairly undeserved. Holding a city wasn't near so invigorating as conquering one or facing an army in the field. Even after Twyin's army arrived nothing happened on their side but watching, receiving reports, and trying to send ravens that didn't end up with arrows shot through them.
To build siege weapons, Lannister's men were forced to make their way across the bridge of Blackwater to cut down trees in the Kingswood and return with them to actually build the damn things. The process was slow as it was, made even worse by all the arrows Robert's men feathered them with.
"Mightn't we offer to send some of our own carpenters to assist them?" Barristan suggested when Robert complained about how long they were taking.
The king laughed. "If I didn't know Tywin would send us back the messenger's head, I would."
Their forces weren't nearly so numerous as the Lannisters and there were more watchmen, showmen, and green boys than true soldiers. The surest way to unite their ragtag forces and make them fight more fiercely than even they knew they could was to befriend them. Make them ready to fight and die beside you. Make them love you.
To achieve that the king knew the men had to see him among them and know him. As Robert made his way along the walls, he repeated Barristan's joke with the men, chatting with groups of them in turn to make them laugh and raise their spirits. They joked that after crushing dragons and krakens, a mere pride of lions would be nothing. He even stopped to play a few rounds of dice with some of them.
Every so often one of the men would offer condolences for the king's loss which brought an end to any frivolity.
When he reached the place where some of the Stark household guards were stationed, Robert would have sworn he was returned to Winterfell and the frigid winds of the North. Each of the armored men were courteous in their greetings but politely unreceptive to further talk. Robert noticed one of the shorter men in shiny white armor didn't even bother removing his helm and kept his back to the king after a bow. Robert moved on from them quickly.
Morale aside, no true progress was made until the third day of the siege. Unfortunately for Robert, he had no true part in the victory.
The towers still weren't erected yet when the Lannister army was forced to face their foes. Troops bearing the crowned stag of Baratheon took Tywin in the rear having crossed the Blackwater further upstream.
"This could not be the work of the ravens we sent," Barristan said as the men cheered around them.
"Renly," the king said. His shiny, useless little brother who knew nothing of war was responsible for saving the city. "He sent ravens before he left for Highgarden. He told the storm lords to raise their banners and make haste to the capital. Gods be good! Now he'll act even more like a peacock when he returns."
The Westerlands forces were so unprepared, their pants might as well have been about their ankles. The Stormlands host crushed the lions against the city walls as though they were stuck between an anvil and a falling hammer.
By the time the men behind the city walls were marshaled and ready to join the fray, the work was all but done.
Lord Tywin, Ser Kevan, and a pair of Kevan's sons perished in the battle. The surviving remnants of their forces bent the knee or fled. Those who escaped were halted in their retreat by Ser Edmure and his army some days away.
Robert had no need for a long trial and public execution for Cersei. That dwarf brother of hers did the work for him. This time he was relieved to have the task relinquished from him.
Instead of the black cells, Barristan had taken the queen to one of the more comfortable cells reserved for high ranking prisoners. The lower cells overflowed with the usual criminals and the Lannister household guards as well as the servants, and Westerlands nobles who assisted with concealing the kidnaping of the royal children. By the time Lady Catelyn arrived in King's Landing with Tyrion Lannister, there was no place to put the Imp but with his sister. The guards said the siblings argued near constantly, blaming each other for their current circumstances and sure doom. If Tyrion weren't so foul and deformed a little creature who could not defend himself, even against a woman, none of this would have happened. If Cersei hadn't murdered Jon Arryn and attempted to kill the Stark boy, their House would not be in ruins. And so they went round and round.
The guards were not concerned until the fighting ceased.
"After a time, I unlocked the cell just to have a look and found Her Grace sprawled out on the floor," the guard reported to Robert and the small council. "Then the Imp said, all casual-like, 'Not to state the obvious, but I have strangled my sister and I am afraid she did not survive the ordeal. Might I request the honor of joining the elite force of the Night's Watch? Oh, and I would like my super as well, if you please.'"
Robert granted Tyrion's request. He also allowed Lancel and the bulk of the men who would face trial for their parts in the kidnapping to take the black as well.
"I spoke with Arya," Eddard said a week and some days after Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen's funeral.
The bodies of the princess and the crown prince were retrieved from the Goldroad to lay in state beside Tommen in the Great Sept of Baelor before being placed in their tombs.
"And Cat. Arya wishes to wed you to strengthen our family. The prospect of getting vengeance on the Lannisters for crippling Bran played no small part in her initial decision. My wife tells me this is an honor we cannot let pass."
Then he said no more, allowing those words to settle between them.
Robert wasn't one who often expressed feelings well, especially not through words. So he did not know how to tell his old friend that after everything – the loss of his children, the near loss of his kingdom, the war that was only stopped by his brother's stubbornness – he needed to have Arya – his Lyanna returned to him. He needed at least that to go right.
"I will make Lady Arya happy," Robert said. "I swear it."
"You swear," Ned repeated coldly, not looking at him.
Like a punch in the throat, Robert recalled his friend's words the day he learned of his intentions to marry Arya. The Others take your oaths and vows. I more than anyone know their worth.
"If I truly had any sense I would accept Mace Tyrell's offer and wed Arya to his son. If you had any sense, you would gladly wish for that, as well. But I have already told Cat I will agree to the match."
Half the realm descended upon King's Landing for the wedding.
Renly was quite wroth with Robert for choosing to wed Lady Arya instead of Margaery Tyrell. Apparently, he had gotten it into his head that the king wanted to set Cersei aside for the Rose of Highgarden not the She-Wolf of Winterfell. He was even fool enough to assure Lord Mace that this was the plan.
But Tyrell was pleased when Robert laughed with him about the confusion and offered Renly as a suitable replacement for the Lady Margaery's groom.
For the first time in Robert's entire reign, the Martell's appeared truly civil. Prince Doran could not attend, but Prince Oberyn and Princess Arianne gave his excuses and his congratulations. In addition to attending a wedding, they had the pleasure of seeing Gregor Clegane's head mounted on a spike at last.
Even Stannis seemed pleased for once. In his eyes, justice had finally been served. He did not even more the children. When Stannis attempted to explain that Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen were not in fact Robert's children but the Kingslayer's, the king repaid him with a shattered nose.
During the ceremony, Robert tried not to think of Ned's grim face empty of mirth as he unfastened the clasp of Arya's grey and white maiden cloak. He refused to compare how flushed and pleased Cersei had looked on their own wedding day with the calm and steady look Arya gave him. Wrapping the cloth-of-gold cloak around her slender shoulders, the king only allowed himself to focus on the fact that she was his now. He had finally won his Lyanna.