[King's Landing]

As she had mentioned to her father, Arya was in fact chasing a cat through the Red Keep.

"Come on. I'm not gonna hurt you." She tried.

[King's Landing -- Chambers of the Hand of the King]

Ned Stark is seated at his desk listening to Lord Varys who walks around securing the windows and doors so they could sit down for a private conversation.

"How is your son, My Lord?"

"He'll nevr walk again."

"But his mind is sound?"

"So they say."

"A blessing then. I suffered an early mutilation myself. Some doors close forevr ... others open in the most unexpected places. May I?" He gestured to a chair. Receiving a nod, he sat.

"If the wrong ears heard what I'm about to tell you, off comes my head. And who would mourn poor Varys then? North or South, they sing no songs for spiders. But there are things you must know. You are the King's Hand and the King is a fool ... your friend, I know, but a fool ... and doomed unless you save him."

"I've been in the capital a month. Why have you waited so long to tell me this?"

"I didn't trust you."

"So why do you trust me now?"

"The Queen is not the only one who has been watching you closely." Varys informed him. "There are few men of honor in the capital. You are one of them. I would like to believe I am another, strange as that may seem."

"What sort of doom does the King face?"

"The same sort as Jon Arryn. The tears of Lys, they call it. A rare and costly thing, as clear and tasteless as water. It leaves no trace."

Ned quickly rose, turning his back to Varys and walking over to the open-air entrance to the balcony.

"Who gave it to him?"

"Some dear friend, no doubt. But which one? There were many. Lord Arryn was a kind and trusting man. There was one boy ... all he was he owed to Jon Arryn."

Ned turned to look at Varys. "The squire, Ser Hugh?"

"Pity what happened to him, just when his life seemed to be going so nicely."

"If Ser Hugh poisoned him, who paid Ser Hugh?"

"Someone who could afford it."

Ned walked back to his desk and placed his hands on the chair back. "Jon was a man of peace. He was Hand for 17 years -- 17 good years. Why kill him?"

"He started asking questions."

Which is exactly what Lord Stark had been doing.

Elsewhere in the Keep, Arya Stark was still chasing a cat through the dungeons. She stops suddenly and stares at a statue of a huge dragon's skull. As she explores, she hears two men approach. Quickly, she hid within the dragon's open jaws so she could listen.

"He's found two bastards already. He has the book. The rest will come." Varys told his old friend, Magistar Illyrio Mopatis.

"And when he knows the truth, what will he do?"

"The gods alone know. The fools tried to kill his son. What's worse -- they botched it." Varys closed and locked the corridor gate. "The wolf and the lion will be at each other's throats. We will be at war soon, my friend."

"What good is war now? We're not ready. If one Hand can die, why not a second?"

"This Hand is not the other."

"We need time. Khal Drogo will not make his move until his son is born. You know how these savages are."

"Delay," you say. "Move fast, " I reply. This is no longer a game for two players." Varys told him.

"It nevr was."

Arya watched as the men left before emerging from the dragon's jaws and running to the gate, only to find it locked. With no other choice, she ran off in another direction.

[King's Landing -- The Throne Room]

Littlefinger stood staring up at the Iron Throne when Lord Varys entered the room.

"The first to arrive and the last to leave. I admire your industry."

"You do move quietly."

"We all have our qualities." Varys told him.

"You look a bit lonely today. You should pay a visit to my brоthеl this evening. First boy is on the house."

"I think you're mistaking business with pleasure."

"Am I? All those birds that whisper in your ear ... such pretty little things. Trust me, we accommodate all inclinations." Littlefinger teased.

"Oh, I'm sure. Lord Redwyne likes his boys very young, I hear." 

"I'm a purveyor of beauty and discretion -- both equally important."

"Though I suppose beauty is a subjective quality, no? Is it true that Ser Marlon of Tumblestone prefers amputees?"

"All desires are valid to a man with a full purse."

"And I heard the most awful rumor about a certain lord with a taste for fresh cadavers. Must be enormously difficult to accommodate that inclination. The logistics alone ... to find beautiful corpses before they rot. "

"Strictly speaking, such a thing would not be in accordance with the King's laws."

"Strictly speaking."

"Tell me. Does someone, somewhere, keep your balls in a little box? I've often wondered."

"Do you know, I have no idea where they are? And we had been so close. But enough about me. How have you been since we last saw each other?"

"Since you last saw me or since I last saw you?"

"Now the last time I saw you, you were talking to the Hand of the King."

"Saw me with your own eyes?"

"Eyes I own." Varys replied.

"Council business. We all have so much to discuss with Ned Stark."

"Everyone's well aware of your enduring fondness for Lord Stark's wife. If the Lannisters were behind the attempt on the Stark boy's life and it was discovered that you helped the Starks come to that conclusion ... To think a simple word to the Queen ..."

"One shudders at the thought."

"Ooh." Varys shuddered, mockingly.

"But you know something? I do believe that I have seen you even more recently than you have seen me."

"Have you?"

"Yes. Earlier today, I distinctly recall seeing you talking to Lord Stark in his chambers."

"Was that you under the bed?"

"And not long after that when I saw you escorting a certain foreign dignitary ... Council business? Of course you would have friends from across The Narrow Sea. You're from there yourself, after all. We're friends, aren't we, Lord Varys? I'd like to think we are. So you can imagine my burden, wondering if the King might question my friend's sympathies -- to stand at a crossroads where turning left means loyalty to a friend, turning right -- loyalty to the realm."

"Oh, please."

"To find myself in a position where a simple word to the King --"

Renly Baratheon, brother to King Robert, barged into the throne room, speaking as he cut across the room to another doorway on the other side. "What are you two conspiring about? Well, whatever it is, you'd best hurry up. My brother is coming." As quickly as he'd come, he'd left.

"To a small council meeting?"

"Disturbing news from far away. Haven't you heard?" Varys mocked.

[King's Landing]

Arya emerged from a tunnel outside the castle walls. She makes her way to the entrance of the castle, but was stopped by two guards.]

"Off with you. No begging." The first guard said as she approached.

"I'm not a beggar. I live here." Arya told him.

"D'you want a smack on your ear to help you with your hearing?" He asked.

"I want to see my father."

"I want to fսck the Queen and the Princess, for all the good it does me." The second guard told her.

"You want your father, boy? He's lying on the floor of some tavern, getting pissed on by his friends." The first guard said.

"My father is Hand of the King! I'm not a boy. I'm Arya Stark of Winterfell and if you lay a hand on me, my father will have both your heads on spikes! Now are you going to let me by or do I need to smack you on the ear to help with your hearing?"

[King's Landing -- Hand of the King (Ned Stark) Chambers]

Arya was led to her father's chambers.

"You know I had half my guard out searching for you? You promised me this would stop."

"They said they were going to kill you."

"Who did?"

"I didn't see them, but I think one was fat."

"Oh, Arya."

"I'm not lying! They said you found the bastards and the wolves are fighting the lions and the savage ... something about the savage."

"Where did you hear this?"

"In the dungeons, near the dragon skulls."

"What were you doing in the dungeons?"

"Chasing a cat."

Jory knocked before entering. "Pardon, My Lord. There's a Night's Watchman here begging a word. He says it's urgent." Ned nodded and Jory allowed the visitor to enter.

"Your name, friend?"

"Yoren, if it pleases. This must be your son. He has the look."

"I'm a girl!" Arya shouted. Why did everyone keep calling her a boy?

"Did Benjen send you?"

"No one sent me, My Lord. I'm here to find men for The Wall, see if there's any scum in the dungeons that might be fit for service."

"Ah, we'll find recruits for you."

"Thank you, My Lord. But that's not why I disturb you now. Your brother, Benjen ... his blood runs black -- makes him as much my brother as yours. It's for his sake I rode here so hard I damn near killed my horse! There are others riding too. The whole city will know by tomorrow."

"Know what?"

He looked over at Arya. "Best said in private, My Lord."

Ned kissed Arya on the head. "Go on. We'll talk more later."

"Jory, take her safely to her room."

"Come along, My Lady. You heard your father."

Jory and Arya exited the chambers and walked down the hall.

"How many guards does my father have?"

"Here in King's Landing? Fifty."

"You wouldn't let anyone kill him, would you?:

"No fear on that count, little Lady."

[The Hand of the King's Chambers - door closed]

"Well?"

"It's about your wife, My Lord. She's taken the Imp."

[King's Landing -- Castle Courtyard --]

The Royal Steward hailed Ned Stark as he strode purposefully along a walk.

"Lord Stark, your presence has been requested in the small council chamber. A meeting has been called."

"I need to see the King first -- alone."

"The King is at the small council meeting, My Lord. He has summoned you."

"Is it about my wife?"

"No, My Lord. I believe it concerns Daenerys Targaryen."

[King's Landing -- The Small Council Chamber -- present are: Ned Stark (who is standing and facing the others seated at the table), King Robert Baratheon, Renly Baratheon, Littlefinger, Lord Varys, and Grand Maester Pycelle]

"The whοre is pregnant." Robert spoke plainly.

"You're speaking of murdering a child."

"I warned you this would happen. Back in the North, I warned you, but you didn't care to hear. Well, hear it now. I want 'em dead, mother and child both -- and that fool, Viserys as well. Is that plain enough for you? I want them both dead."

"You will dishonour yourself forevr if you do this."

"Honour?! I've got Seven Kingdoms to rule! One King, Seven Kingdoms. Do you think honour keeps them in line? Do you think it's honour that's keeping the peace? It's fear -- fear and blood."

"Then we're no better than the Mad King." Ned told them.

"Careful, Ned. Careful now." Robert warned.

"You want to assassinate a girl ... because the Spider heard a rumor?"

"No rumor, My Lord. The princess is with child."

"Based on whose information?"

"Ser Jorah Mormont. He is serving as adviser to the Targaryens." Varys told him.

"Mormont? You bring us the whispers of a traitor half a world away and call it fact?"

"Jorah Mormont's a slaver, not a traitor. Small difference, I know, to an honorable man." Littlefinger chimed in.

"He broke the law, betrayed his family, fled our land. We commit murder on the word of this man?"

"And if he's right? If she has a son? A Targaryen at the head of a Dothraki army ...What then?" Robert asked.

"The Narrow Sea still lies between us. I'll fear the Dothraki the day they teach their horses to run on water." Ned told him.

"Do nothing? That's your wise advice? Do nothing till our enemies are on our shores? You're my council. Counsel! Speak sense to this honorable fool."

"I understand your misgivings, My Lord. Truly, I do. It is a terrible thing we must consider, a vile thing. Yet, we who presume to rule must sometimes do vile things for the good of the realm. Should the gods grant Daenerys a son, the realm will bleed."

"I bear this girl no ill will, but should the Dothraki invade, how many innocents will die? How many towns will burn? Is it not wiser, kinder even, that she should die now so that tens of thousands might live?" Maestar Pycelle noted.

"We should have had them both killed years ago." Renly commented.

"When you find yourself in bed with an ugly woman, best close your eyes, get it over with. Cut her throat. Be done with it." Varys rolled his eyes at Littlefinger's comment.

"I followed you into war -- twice -- without doubts, without second thoughts. But I will not follow you now. The Robert I grew up with didn't tremble at the shadow of an unborn child."

"She dies."

"I will have no part in it."

"You're the King's Hand, Lord Stark. You'll do as I command or I'll find me a hand who will."

Ned removed the pin signifying his position as Hand of the King and tossed it onto the table in front of King Robert.

"And good luck to him. I thought you were a better man."

"Out! Out, damn you! I'm done with you." Ned gave King Robert a slight nod, then turned and left. "Go! Run back to Winterfell! I'll have your head on a spike! I'll put it there myself, you fool! You think you're too good for this? Too proud and honorable? This is a war!"

What none of them knew, hidden away in a secret compartment, not known to many, was the Princess Aelinor.

Satisfied all the men had left, Aelinor emerged from her hiding place.

"Just when I thought you couldn't get any worse," Aelinor muttered to herself. She grabbed a spare piece of parchment, quickly scribbling something down, before folding and sealing it.

She returned to her room, Ser Fowler standing outside.

"Princess?!" His face was one of shock. "I thought you were inside."

"You should know by now Ser Fowler. This Keep has many secrets. Including hidden passageways. Which reminds me, I need your help with something. But first, I need you to send this note with a raven. It would gather too much attention if I did it myself."

"Of course Princess," he bowed before going off to complete his task.

[King's Landing -- Ned Stark's chambers]

Ned was quickly packing his belongings when Jory entered his room.

"I'll go ahead with my daughters. Get them ready. Do it yourself. Don't ask anyone for help."

"Right away, My Lord. Lord Baelish (Littlefinger) is here for you."

"His Grace went on about you at some length after you took your leave. The word "treason" was mentioned."

"What can I do for you?"

"When do you return to Winterfell?"

"Why? What do you care?"

"If you're still here come nightfall, I'll take you to see the last person Jon Arryn spoke with before falling ill. If that sort of thing still interests you."

"I don't have the time."

"It won't take more than an hour. But as you please." Littlefinger turned and walked out into the hall, but he didn't get very far before Ned grabbed his sword and gave Jory some last orders before joining him.

"Round up all the men we have and station them outside the girls' chambers. Who are your best two swords?"

"Heward and Wyl."

"Find them and meet me at the stables."

[Across The Narrow Sea - Daenerys]

Daenerys had been relaxing after completing the task of eating a horse heart. The Dosh Khaleen said this meant she was to have a son; The Stallion Who Mounts The World.

The news of her son, whom she decided to name Rhaego, was both exciting and frightening.

Exciting due the growing bond she had with her husband, Khal Drogo, and frightening because it meant bringing another being with Targaryen blood into the world.

Blood that would cause some to want to harm him.

She had been in the midst of pondering on her future with her family when Irri entered.

"There is a message for you Khaleesi." She handed her a sealed piece of parchment.

Trust food nor drink from none but your own, it read.

Had the threats to her and her child's life already begun?