#wicstart

No one has told Bran anything. He's heard that the fat, old King was murdered, but he doesn't know for sure. They must think that he's too young to hear about these things, but he's not too young, he's almost a man grown. He just wants to know whats going on and if the King is really dead. He doesn't know how the King can be dead, though. The Kingsguard is supposed to protect the king from things like this.

Cersei had secured all she wanted to secure. Sansa was in her chambers under guard, as were Catelyn and Ned. She had written and sent letters to each corner of the Kingdom to spread the news of the death of the king. All who were not already present at court were to swear fealty to the new king. She predicted she would see some struggle from Stannis but nothing she was afraid of. The Tyrell family was in the capitol and if she could secure their army she would not be afraid of an attack of whatever small fleet Stannis could scrape up for a siege. Finally she wrote a letter to her father, asking him to come to King's Landing where she would make him Hand yet again, but this time to her.

She rose from her desk, leaving her quill in the inkpot. She was incredibly pleased with herself. Everything ad worked out perfectly and it was all her own doing. Of course there would be variables to come but she would handle those in stride. Her father would be proud of her, she thought. She would rule now. It was her turn and no one would take it from her. She had watched Robert drink and whore and drive the kingdom into debt, never caring about the power or the politics of it and still he had more power than she did it had never been fair but now it was. It was her hour in the sun.

Her two guards flanked her as she walked through the hall, until she arrived outside Ned Stark's door, "Stay here," she said lightly to the guards, "I doubt there is any danger in there for me."

Alys had visited the Capital for the ball of welcome. She was from a lesser-known branch of Tyrell (she was the wife of Lord Tyrell's second cousin's son - not exactly prestigious) but that didn't stop her from having ambition. She was still popping out children and knew that they could help her rise - she had two daughters, Alla and Leona, who were ten and one, and ten. Not old enough for marriage, but for betrothal.

The King had died whilst she had been visiting - the whole realm was in mourning. It didn't particularly bother her that he was dead, but she knew she had to pretend. She'd spoken to the man, briefly, about ten years ago. Didn't think much of him. 

She sat in the gardens which reminded her of Highgarden, a place her and her family had visited so many times. She sipped some tea, and noticed someone sitting down in front of her.

Tywin was not one for balls, but today he saw it as an opportunity. Stannis had backfired - but he needed to continue to plant the idea in minds. He took a small sip of wine, as customary, and looked around for some lonely woman to prey on. Besides, women were particularly good gossips - it would help. He walked over to a nice-looking girl and gave a small bow. A new piece began to play.

Robb had been unable to sleep. It had been only a day since his mother had departed for King's Landing but he already felt uneasy about it. He would not, could not rely on the honor of Lannisters and every time he closed his eyes all he could see was his mother's hands, scarred and bloodied, as well as Bran, broken at the base of the tower.

He rose early, hoping to ride for some short time before the duties of the day required his attention. He wanted to clear his head, and was grateful for the snap of cold air and the smell of dirt and leather in the stable. He began saddling his horse quietly, the sky was lightening quickly but the sun was still not yet in the sky as he tightened the cinch on his saddle, making sure it was secure. He was about to mount when he heard footsteps.