What if Ned Stark Killed Jaime Lannister in King's Landing

The night [music] is dark and full of theories. [music] What if Ned Star killed Jaime Lannister in King's Landing? Let's explore the depths of it in the video. If this video gets 3,000 likes, we'll make a part two. The streets of King's Landing wreak of fish, sweat, and secrets. In the fading twilight, Lord Eddard Stark stands before one of Peter Beish's most discreet establishments. His face carved from northern stone. The Hand of the King has been investigating the death of John Aaron, following threads that led to dangerous truths. But tonight, he's simply returning from meeting with one of Littlefinger's informants. Behind him, his guards shift nervously. Jory Cassell, his father's wart, and one of his most loyal men, stays close to his lord's side. Huard and Will flank them, hands on their hilts. Then, a voice cuts through the evening air like a blade drawn from its scabbard. Stuck. Jaime Lannister emerges from the shadows, his white cloak trailing behind him, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword. The King Slayer's face carries that familiar smirk, but his green eyes are hard as emeralds. Behind Ned, his guards tense. Behind Jaime, Lannister men emerged from the alleys, red cloaks bright as blood in the dimming light. I hear you've done something remarkably bold, Lord Stark. Your wife seized my brother on the King's Road, dragged him off to the area as a prisoner. Lady Catelyn took your brother on my orders. Tyrion Lannister is accused of plotting to murder my son. He's being held to answer for his crimes. Your orders? The hand of the king orders the abduction of a lord's son based on what? The word of your wife. Some invented slight. You Starks think you can do whatever you want in this realm. Seize whomever you please and face no consequences. I think I can bring accused criminals to justice. If your brother is innocent, he'll be freed. If he's guilty, he'll face punishment. That's how the law works. Lannister law. You speak to me of law while you have my brother changed in some cell in the eerie at the mercy of that mad [ __ ] Liza Aaron. You expect me to believe he'll get justice there? I expect you to remember who you speaking to. I'm the hand of the king and drawing steel towards me is treason. I'm tired of you Starks and your self-righteous honor. You think you're better than everyone else. That your actions are always justified because you're so [ __ ] noble. Well, the hand of the king just committed an act of war against House Lannister. and honor won't protect you from the consequences. The tension snaps like a bow string. Jaime's sword is out and the streets erupt into chaos. Steel rings against Steel as the Stark guards clash with Lannister men. Ned draws ice from his back. The massive Valyrian steel greats sword singing its own deadly song. Jaime comes at Stark guards with speed and skill that made him the youngest knight ever appointed to the King's Guard. His blade a silver blur in the failing light. Around them, the melee intensifies. Jory finds himself facing off against Jaime. Their blades locked in a deadly dance. They circle each other, trading blows, until Jory sees an opening and lunges forward. [music] He doesn't see Jaime<unk>s knife. Jory's eyes widen in surprise as it punches through his left eye and into his brain. He drops without a sound, blood pooling beneath his head on the cobblestones. For a moment, time seems to stop. Ned sees Jory fail. sees the man who taught his son to ride, who stood guard over his daughters, who served House Stark with unwavering loyalty for decades, die on King's Landing streets far from home. Something breaks inside the Lord of Winterfell, something carefully maintained, controlled that has kept him measured and cautious in his viper Nest of a city. The rage that fills him is pure and terrible, a northern storm given human form. He fights like a man possessed, like the warrior who helped Robert Baratheon win a throne, like the son of Frickard Stark, who watched his father and brother burn. Ice becomes Silver Whirlwind in his hands. And Jaime Lannister, for the first time in his gilded life, knows what it means to face an opponent who wants him dead more than anything in the world. They trade blows, sparks flying where the swords meet. Jaime fights with the confidence of a man who has never truly been tested, who has won every turn and duel through sheer natural talent. But Ned Stark learned his sword craft in Robert's Rebellion, where mistakes meant death and honor was measured in survival. He fights with grim determination. Each swing of ice calculated and brutal. Jaime's confidence waivers. He gives ground. His defense parries growing [music] desperate. Ned presses forward. His gray eyes cold as the walls of Winterfell. And then he sees it. The opening. The moment when Jaime's blade is a fraction too slow. When his footing is uncertain on the blood sllicked stones. Ice swings in devastating arcs. The Valyrian steel blade, forged in dragonfire and sharp as whisper, severs Jaime Lannister's head from his shoulders. The King Slayer's body stands for [music] a heartbeat longer as if refusing to believe what just happened before crumpling on the ground. His head rolls across the cobblestones, those green eyes still wide with surprise and comes to rest near a gutter running with filth. The golden-haired knight who broke his oath to save a city who pushed a boy from a tower and fathered a king's bastard on his own sister dies on a dirty [music] street in front of a brothel seeking vengeance for his captured brother. The Lannister guards freeze, staring at their lord's air, lying in pieces before them. Then reality crushes down like an avalanche and fury overtakes shock. They surge forward with savage roars, swords raised, intent on cutting down the man who has just killed the son of Tywin Lannister. Ned Stark stands his ground, ice still in his hands, Jory's body behind him. Huert and Will rush to his side, but they are three against a dozen, and the Lannister men fight with the rage of soldiers who know their Legelord will have their heads if they let Ned escape. They corner the Stark men against the wall of Littlefinger's [music] establishment. Their circle tightening like a noose. Steel flashes in the deepening twilight, and blood, both northern and western, stain the stones. Ned fights like a demon from the old stories. Ice reaping Lannister lives, but he cannot hold against such numbers forever. Huard falls with a sword through his gut. Will takes a blade on the shoulder and drops to one knee. This is where it ends. Ned thinks, far from Winterfell, far from Catelyn and his children. But if he must die, he will take as many of these Lannister dogs with him as he can. Enough. This fighting stops now by the order of the king's peace. The situation is already catastrophic without adding more bodies to the count. >> Then the city watch arrives. Gold cloaks flood into the street from both ends, their spears and swords gleaming. At their head rides Peter Veish himself, mounted on a fine gray corourser, his stark beard trimmed to perfection, and his expression unreadable. The master of coin raises his hand, and his men form a wall of steel between the Stark and Lannister forces. There is a tense moment where the Lannister men seem ready to charge through the city watch. Damn the consequences. But they're in the capital now, surrounded by royal authority, and even their rage must contend with cold calculation. They are outnumbered and killing the hand of the king would mean their deaths regardless of the circumstances. The Lannister Guard, a grizzled veteran with blood on his face, points his sword at Ned. >> Lord Tywin will hear of this. Every kingdom will hear that Eddard Stark murdered Sir Jaime in cold blood. I murdered no one. Your lord drew steel in the hand of the king and killed my men. He died because he was a fool who valued pride over sense. The Lannister men want to charge, want to kill, [music] want revenge for the lord's heir. But Littlefinger City Watch holds firm. And slowly, [music] reluctantly, they lower the blades. Four of them retrieve Jaime<unk>s remains, the body wrapped hastily in a red cloak, the head carried with shaking hands, and retreat into the maze of King's Landing streets, their curses and promises of vengeance echoing off the stone walls. Littlefinger dismounts and approaches Ned, careful to keep his expression neutral. He served faithfully. He deserved better than to die in this cess pit of a city. Many deserve better than they receive in King's Landing. Lord Stark, come. The king must hear your account before others poison his mind against you. >> The journey back to the Red Keep feels like a death march. Citizens scatter before them. Word of the fight already spreading through the city like wildfire. By the time they reach the castle gates, Ned can see guards and Lannister crimson gathering in small knots, their faces dark with anger. The Stark banners hanging in the courtyard [music] seem terribly few against the sea of lions surrounding them. Ned doesn't waste time. He strides directly to the king's chambers, ice still in hand, Littlefinger trailing behind him with a small contingent of City Watch. The king's guard standing outside Robert's door. Sir Barristan Selme, the old knight, whose honor is legend, steps forward with a hand on his on his sword hilt. >> Lord Stark, the king is in his cups and has retired for the evening. Perhaps in the morning. This cannot wait until morning. Sir Barristan, I need to see Robert now. There has been bloodshed. >> Something in Ned's tone makes Barristan step aside. He opens the door and announces, "The hand of the king requests urgent audience, your grace." >> Robert Baratheon looks up from his wine cup, his face already flushed with drink. The king has grown fat and tired in the years since his rebellion, but his eyes still hold some of that fire that won him the throne. [clears throat] >> Ned, what seven hoes? You look like you've been through a battle. What's happened, >> Robert? I need you to listen carefully. Sir Jamie attacked me in the street. [music] He killed Jory Cassell, and I was forced to defend myself. Jaime Lannister is dead. The wine cup drops from Robert's hand. Red liquid spreading across the floor like blood. For a moment, the king just stares. And then his face turns purple with fury. >> Dead. You killed Jamie [ __ ] Lannister. N what? Why would he attack you? My wife arrested Tyrion Lannister on the king's road. I claimed responsibility for her actions to protect her. Jaime came seeking vengeance. God damn it. You arrested a Lannister without coming to me first without >> The door crashes open. Cersei Lannister sweeps into the chamber like a storm given human form. Her household guard behind her and Sander Clegane the hound at her side. The queen's beautiful face is twisted with rage and grief. Tears streaming down her cheeks. Behind her, more Lannister men file in and suddenly the room feels very small and very dangerous. >> Treason, murder. Roberts. This man has killed my brother. slaughtered him in the streets like a dog. I demand justice. I demand you arrest him immediately. >> Sir Barristan's hand goes to his hilt, his weathered face tight with tension. The old knight position positions himself subtly between Cersei's guards and net, ready to draw if needed. The air in the room becomes thick with potential violence. Every man's hand near his weapon. Robert rises from his seat, swaying slightly from drink, but suddenly seeming more present than he has in years. >> Woman, I'll hear what happened before I do anything. Men wouldn't kill a man without cause. >> Cause? What cause could there be for murdering one of your king's guard? He has killed my brother, Robert. He has taken Jaime from me. From our children, from >> from you? Your brother was my king's guard woman. If there was killing, I'll know why before I make any judgments. >> Then you're a fool. He murdered Jaime. What more do you need to know? Arrest him. Execute him. Give me justice. The tension in the room ratchets [music] higher. Cersei's eyes are wild, her hands clenched into fists. She looks at her guards at Sander Clegane with his burned face and brutal reputation. And for a moment, it seems she might give an order that will turn this room into a slaughterhouse. Sir Barristan shifts his weight, ready to draw. Littlefinger, who positioned himself near the door, watches everything with those calculating eyes. Robert Baratheon slams his fist on the table with a crash that makes everyone jump. >> Enough. I am still king in this realm, woman, and I will not have the hand arrested on accusations alone. I will investigate this matter thoroughly, and I will hear all sides before I make my judgment. Do you understand me? Cersei's face goes white, then red. She opens her mouth, closes it, opens it again. Her eyes dark to the ground to the hound, and Ned can see the calculation [music] happening behind them. She has enough swords in this room. She could give the order. Could try to take Ned by force despite the king's command. Sander Clegane's hand [music] rests on his sword hilt, waiting for his mistress's word. The moment stretches like a bow stringer pulled to breaking. Then Robert speaks again, his voice cold as the grave. And let me make myself perfectly clear to everyone in this room. Whoever draws steel in my presence will find their head on a spike outside my window, and I will remove it personally with my own hands. I don't care if you're a queen, a guardsman, or the bloody hound himself. Do I make myself clear? Sandor's hand slowly moves away from his sword. Cersei's guards straighten, their aggression draining like water from a cracked cup. The queen herself stands frozen, her chest heaving with barely controlled fury. >> Get out. Get out while I get to the bottom of this and take your men with you now. >> For a moment, Cersei looks like she might refuse. Then she whirls and stalks from the chamber, her guards following her. At the doorway, she turns back one last time. >> This isn't over, husband. My father will hear of this. The realm will hear of this. And there will be blood for blood. >> Then she's gone. and the room can breathe again. Robert slumps back into his seat and reaches for another cup of wine with shaking hands. >> Gods, Ned, tell me what happened. All of it. And don't leave anything out. Ned tells him. He speaks of Catelyn's letter, how she seized Tyrion on the king's road and took him to the Eerie to answer for attempting to murder Bran. He explains how he claimed responsibility to protect Cat from the Lannister repetribution, how Jaime confronted him in the street and demanded his brother's release. How the fight erupted. How Jory was murdered. how in his rage he took Jaime<unk>'s head. Robert listens, his face growing darker with every word. His massive hands clenched so tight the knuckles turn white. When Ned finishes, the king sits in silence for a long moment. Little finger, you were there. You saw the fight. Tell me true. Did Ned murder Jaime, or was it self-defense? Peter Baylor steps forward, his expression grim. Your grace, I witnessed the entire encounter from my establishment's window. Sir Jaime drew steel first. He attacked Lord Stark openly in the street. Sir Jaime killed Jorah Cassell. Lord Stark defended himself and his men against a superior force. Everything he told you matches what I saw with my own eyes. What do we do? I don't know yet. But I know we need time to think, to plan. The Lannisters won't let Jaime's death go unanswered. Tarin will. A knock at the door interrupts him. A messenger enters, his face pale, and bows quickly to the king. Your grace, word from the Riverlands. Lord Sirewin Lannister has called his banners and is raiding Riverlord holdings. Villages are burning. The tallies are calling for aid. >> The room goes silent. Robert stands slowly, his hands braced on the table. He's already moving. The bastard is his forces ready before Jaime even died. That's what Tin does. He uses fear and violence to make examples. He did it to House Rain, to House Tarbeck. Now he's doing it to the Rivalents to punish them for being my wife's skin. Then he's a traitor and a rebel. I'll not have a lord making war in my realm without my leave. Send ravens, your grace. I'm sorry to interrupt, but that's not all. Out with it then. The the queen has fled the city, your grace. She's taking the royal children and her household god and left through the king's gate. Not half an hour passed. Last we saw, they were riding hard for the Westerlands. Robert's roar of fury shakes the chamber. He sweeps his arm across the table, sending cups and papers flying. She what? She takes my children and runs. Barristan, send riders after them. I want them brought back. >> Your grace, they have too much of a head start. By the time we organize a pursuit, they'll be past our reach, and forcing the issue might harm the children. Robert paces like a caged bear. His breath coming in angry gasps. Finally, he wheels on Ned. >> This is open rebellion. Cersei has stolen my heirs, and Tywin is raiding in the rivers. The Lannisters have declared war on the crown. Tell that old lion that he's to appear before me. To answer not just for his raiding the Rivlands, but for harboring the queen who has stolen the king's children. Tell him if he doesn't come peacefully, I'll drag him here in chains. As for you, old friend, I need you in the north. Call your banners. Gather your strength. Tywin won't come peacefully. Then when he refuses my summons, we'll need to hit him from both sides. I'll lead the southern forces. You bring the north. We'll crush the old lion between us like we crushed Rhaegar at the Trident. >> Ned nods, his mind already racing ahead to logistics to men. He'll need to the defenses of Winterfell. >> I'll need to take my household, my daughters. >> Yes. Yes. Take them all. Get them out of this Vipers list. Ride fast. Ride hard. And then I'm sorry. I'm sorry. You were right to be cautious about the Lannisters. I should have listened years ago when you warned me. There's still time to make this right. We'll end this, Robert, together. Like we did before. Together. Now go. The sooner you reach Winterfell, the sooner we can show Tower and Lennister to what happens when you go to war with the crown. Ned makes his preparations with the efficiency born of years of northern winters and military campaigns. Within hours, his household is ready to depart. He gathers Sansa and Arya, his daughters who have been living in the southern capital, experiencing its wonders and dangers. Sansa is heartbroken when he tells her they're leaving, that Joffrey has fled with his mother, that there will be no royal wedding. The girl has dreamed of being queen since she was old enough to understand what queens were. And [music] now that dream is ashes. She weeps in her chambers while Septa Mordane helps her pack. But when Ned sits with her and explains, not everything, not the worst of it, but enough, she begins to understand. He tells her about Joffrey's true nature, about the cruelty he's shown to the butcher's boy, about how sometimes beautiful things hide ugly truths. He tells her that they're going home back to Winterfell where she'll be safe. >> Father, will there be war? >> Yes, but you'll be safe in Winterfell. And when it's over, we'll find you a husband worthy of your heart. Someone who will cherish you as you deserve. Arya, by contrast, is thrilled to be leaving King's Landing. The girl has never fit in in the South Southern capital with its rigid rules and courtly manners. She practically runs to a room to pack, already imagining the forests and freedom of the north. When Ned tells her what happened, she simply nods. >> Good. He deserves it for killing Jory. >> The journey north is long and hard. They travel with a strong escort. 50 good men loyal to Host Stark, and they move quickly through the Riverlands. Ned [music] can see the signs of Tywin's raiding burned villages in the distance. Refugees on the road. The smoke of conflict staining the horizon, but they don't have time to stop and help. Every hour matters now. Ned has sent ravens ahead, carried by the fastest birds the Red Keep's maester could provide. The messages are simple and direct. Call the banners. Prepare [music] for war. The old lion moves against us. By the time they reach the neck and pass through the protection of Mo Kalin, word has spread throughout the north. Lords and knights are already riding for Winterfell, answering to the call, as they have done for thousands of years. The North remembers, and the North gathers to defend its own. When Ned finally rides through the gates of Winterfell, he finds Rob waiting for him in the courtyard, and his son is no longer a boy. At 17, Rob Stark has grown into a man tall and strong with the tully coloring of his mother's hair, but the gray eyes and bearing [music] of the north. The courtyard is filled with armed men bearing the banners of a dozen northern houses. The umber giants, the Kstark sons, the Glover fists, the Mormont bears. Rob embraces his father, then his sisters before stepping back. We received your ravens, the banners are called. Every lord in the north is riding to Winterfell, and we're already here. We have over 10,000 men assembled with more coming daily. What happened in the south? In the great hall of Winterfell, beneath the ancient stone walls and the direwolf banners, Ned tells his assembled lords what transpired in King's Landing. He tells them about Jaime Lannister's death, about Tywin's raids on the Riverlands, about the king's command to march south and join the royal forces to crush the Lannister rebellion. The great Jon slams his fist on the table. >> The bastards killed Jory Cassell, a good man, Jory. His death demands a reckoning. We'll ride south and teach those southern lordlings what northern steel tastes like. >> What of our defenses? If we march south with our full strength, we leave the north vulnerable. We leave enough men to the garrison, the castles who protect our holdings. But the king is calling and we must answer. Besides, the Greyjoys are quiet. We have no enemies in the north. Our war is in the south. The council of war goes late into the night. They plan supply lines, march routes, coordination with the Riverland forces. Lord Wayan Manderly pledges his ships and men from White Harbor. The Mountain Clan send word that they'll harry an army who dares come north. By the time they finish, the North is ready for war. Ned retires to his chambers, exhausted but determined. Catelyn is there waiting for him, and when he enters, she rises and embraces him. She has heard everything from Rob, and her face shows the strain of worry. >> The gods are cruel to bring you home only to send you south to war. The gods give us the trials we must face, and I'll face them knowing you and our children are safe in Winterfell. >> They don't speak of the darkness ahead, of the battles to come, of the possibility that he might not return. Instead, they hold each other in the quiet of their chambers, taking strength from their shared presence, finding comfort in [music] the familiar warmth of their home. The next morning, Ned wakes up to troubling news. A raven has arrived from King's Landing, and the seal is wrong. Not Robert's stag, but the crowned stag of the royal house. When he breaks the seal and reads the message, the blood drains from his face. King Robert Baratheon is dead. The message is brief and devastating. The king fell ill suddenly, suffering symptoms consisting with poisoning. [music] Despite the best efforts of the Grand Maester, Pycel and every healer in the capital, he died in agony within hours of the first signs of illness. With Joffrey gone and Ned in the north, Lord Renley Baratheon, as the highest ranking member of the royal family, present in the capital, has taken the throne to maintain order and manage the [music] realm's affairs during the crisis. Ned reads the message three times, each time hoping the words will change. Robert, his friend since they were boys, fostered in the veil, his brother and all but blood. The man who fought beside him with the trident and won a throne, who's dead, and not from battle or illness or accident, but from poison, murder. He calls an immediate council in the great hall. The northern lords gather and Ned shares the news. There's shock, anger, and confusion in equal measures. Poisoned? Who would dare poison a king? Someone who has much to gain and access to do it. This changes everything. And indeed it does. Because before they can even process Robert's death, another raven arrives. This one bearing a seal Ned recognizes immediately. The fiery heart of Stannis Baratheon. The letter that Stannis sends is an address just to Ed, but to every lord in Westeros, to every house major and minor, to every knight and septum and merchant who can read. It's a declaration that will shake the realm to its foundations. Stannis writes that he and John Aaron discovered truths before the former [music] Han's death. The truth that got Jon murdered. The letter explains in stark detail how Robert Baratheon's three children were with Cersei are not his offspring at all, but the products of incest between the queen and her twin brother Jaime. Stannis provides the evidence, the book of lineages, the pattern [music] of Baratheon features, the testimonies of witnesses. He declared that the children are bastards with no claim to the iron throne. And then Stannis makes his claim as Robert's eldest survivor brother and true heir. With Robert dead and no legitimate children to succeed him, Stannis Baratheon is the rightful king of the seven kingdoms. He calls upon all loyal lords to swear falty to him. The great hall erupts in chaos. Lords are shouting over each other, arguing about oaths in succession and which Baratheon brother has the right to it. Some argue for Stannis. He's the elder brother. And if his claim about the children are true, then the law is clear. Others point out that Renley holds King's Landing and has possession of the capital and the royal treasury. Master Luen, old and wise, raises a hand for silence. >> My lords, there's more. Another raven has come from King's Landing itself. >> This message brings news almost as shocking as Robert's death. Renley Baratheon has entered into alliance with House Tyrell of High Garden. To seal the bond, Renley has agreed to marry Marjgery Tyrell, the beautiful daughter of Lord Ma Tyrell. The Reach's massive armies now march to support Renley's claim to the throne. [music] Ned sits heavily in his seat at the high table, his head spinning from the succession of shocks. Robert dead, possibly murdered. Renley and Stannis both claiming the throne. The Tyrells throwing their considerable weight behind Renley. And all the while, Tywin Lannister rampages through the Riverlands. his own grandson technically the rightful king and one ignor if one ignores the incest claims. This is madness. The realm is tearing itself apart. What do we do? We do what we must. We focus on the immediate threat. Talin and the Lannisters. Robert called us to war against them. And that war still needs fighting. This squabble between Renley and Stannis can wait. First, we save the Rivals and your mother's family. He calls for parchment and ink. Working through the night, he crafts a letter to Stannis Baratheon. In it, he acknowledges the validity of Stannis's claim and the truth of his revelations about Cersei's children. He expresses his grief at Robert's death and his suspicion about who might be responsible. But he also proposes a plan. Join forces against Tywin Lannister first. The Old Lion is the immediate threat. Raiding and burning through the Riverlands. His army already raised and blooded. [music] Deal with Tywin together. Then both of their forces, Northern and Baratheon, can march on King's Landing and address Renley's occupation of the throne. The Raven flies from Winterfell's Rookery at dawn. winging its way toward Dragonstone and the man who styles himself the rightful king of Westeros. [music] But Ned doesn't wait for a reply. Time is against them, and every day Tywin operates unchecked in the Riverlands means more destruction, more death, more of Catelyn's homeland reduced to ashes. He gives the order to march. 20,000 northern soldiers. The largest army of the north has fielded since Robert's rebellion. Begin the long trek southward. The column stretches for miles. [music] Bannermanmen and knights and common soldiers all marching under the direwolf of House Stark. Rob rides at Ned's side. At every mile, the boy seems to grow more into the role of commander. He questions scouts, inspects supply wagons, speaks with the lords about their men in their readiness. Ned watches his son with pride and sadness in equal measure. Pride at the man Rob is becoming. Sadness that war has forced his growth upon him so soon. Meanwhile, in a military encampment deep in the Westerlands, Taiwan Lannister sits in his command tent. A map of Westeros spread before him. The Lord of Castle Rock is 70 years old. But his mind is as sharp as any blade, and his strategic brilliance has made House Lannister the most feared military power in the realm. He looks up as his adviserss enter. Sir Kevin Lannister, his brother and most trusted lieutenant, and Sir Gregorane, the mountain, a brood of a man useful for terrorizing the enemy. They bring news from King's Landing. [music] Robert is dead. >> Poisoning. They say it happened quickly. The king was dead before sunset. Tywin's expression doesn't change, but his eyes glitter with cold calculation. >> And the Rome's response, chaos, my lord. Renley sits the throne in King's Landing with Tyrell's support. Stannis has declared himself the rightful king from Dragonstone and sent letters accusing Cersei of incest. The realm is splitting apart. For a long moment, Tywin says nothing. Then slowly, a thin smile crosses his weathered face. I have nothing to do with Robert's death, but I cannot say I mourn it. This changes everything to our advantage. Now there's no king to unite the realm against us. [snorts] Now there are two Baratheon brothers fighting over a throne, fracturing the Southern Alliance. Now we can focus our full attention on the Starks and getting justice for Jaime. >> He stands and moves to the map, his finger tracing the geography of war. Even if we defeat combined Stark and Rivalent forces, we'd be too weak to stand against either Renley or Stannis, let alone both. We need to bolster our numbers significantly. Over the next weeks, Tywin's ravens fly across the narrow sea. He hires sell sword companies, the brave companions, the stormcrows, smaller bands, looking for gold and glory. He contracts with free cities for ships and fighting men. Gold flows from casterly rocks, seemingly bottomless coffers, and in return, foreign steel pledges the Lannister cause. But Tywin knows that mercenaries alone won't be enough. He needs allies in Westeros itself, particularly allies positioned to disrupt his enemy strategies. His eyes fall on the twins, the great double castle that controls the only reliable crossing of the green fork, of the trident for hundreds of miles. Whoever controls the twins controls passage between the north and the riverlands. He sends a message to Lord Walder Frey, the ancient lord of the crossing, a man known for his changeability and his ambition. This offer is simple but tempting. Support the Lannisters. Close the twins to the Northern and Riverland forces. In an exchange, when Joffrey takes his [music] rightful place as king, he will marry one of Lord Walder's numerous daughters, elevating House Frey to unprecedented heights. Walder Frey, sitting in his hall, surrounded by his endless brood of children and grandchildren, reads Tywin's letter and smiles, a toothless smile. The North has always looked down on House Frey. The Tullies have always treated them as lessers. But the Lannisters offer respect, power, a royal marriage. The choice, to his mind, is obvious. His ravens fly to Casterly Rock with his acceptance. Tywin receives the news with satisfaction. With one stroke, he's isolated the North from the Riverlands and created a Riverlands civil war. Frey forces against Tully forces, splitting his enemy's attention and resources. The strategic implications are enormous. But in the Riverlands, the consequences of this betrayal are immediate and brutal. Brendan Tully, called the Blackfish, rides at the head of the Riverland's scouting force approaching the twins, intending to secure the crossing for the northern army's arrival. Instead, he finds the gates closed, and Frey forces manning the walls. When he demands entry, arrows are the answer. The brief battle is bloody and one-sided. The Blackfish's force is outnumbered and unprepared for treachery from a supposed ally. They force they're forced to retreat with heavy casualties, leaving dead men floating in the Green Fork. The Blackfish himself escapes, but barely. An arrow crease in his armor, a reminder of how close to death he came. He writes immediately to Riverrun and to the Northern army. Mold phrase declared for the Lannisters. The twins are close to us. We are betrayed. >> The Raven reaches Ned's army as they march south through the neck. When he reads the message, Ned feels the weight of another complication added to an already complex war. Without the twins, joining the Riverland's forces becomes much more difficult. They'll have to find another crossing or besiege the castle or split their forces. Any option costs time they [music] don't have. He calls his war council. Rob is there along with the great John Roose Bolton, Lord Rickard Karstark, Mage Mormont, and the other major commanders. They study the maps by lamplight, tracing routes and considering options. We could go around, cross further east or west. It'll take longer. it. Every day we waste is another day and burns the Riverland and another day that he has to prepare for our arrival. Speed is essential. >> Then we take the twins by storm. My men will. >> A messenger bursts into the tent, wideeyed and breathing hard. >> My lord, White Harbor is under attack. >> The council chamber goes silent. Ned rises slowly. >> What did you say? A fleet, my lord. Lannister ships and cellul vessels. They've blockaded the harbor and are besieging the city. Lord Manderly sends word that he's holding for now, but he needs reinforcements. The city won't last long against such numbers. Ned's mind races through the implications. Tywin has outmaneuvered him. While the northern army marched south to help the riverlords, the old lion sent his newly hired fleet north to strike at the North's largest port city. While White Harbor is the North's window to the sea, its primary trading port and home to Lord Weman Manderly's considerable holdings. If it falls, the North's economy will suffer severely, and Taiwan will have a foothold in the North itself. He's faced with an impossible choice. Continue south to help the Riverlands and allow White Harbor to fall, or split his forces and potentially doom both objectives. Ned looks at his son, seeing the young man's sharp mind working through the same calculations. Then [music] Rob speaks, his voice steady. Father, send me to the twins with a third of the army. I'll take them and open the crossing for the Riverlands forces. You take the rest to White Harbor and stop Tywin's gambit in the north. That's too risky. Splitting our forces means it means we address both threats. If we march the entire army to White Harbor, the Riverlands will be lost. If we ignore White Harour, the North is compromised. We have to split our forces. But we do it cleverly. Ned studies his son's face, seeing the determination there, the confidence. Rob has been trained for this since childhood. He has studied warfare and command under Winterfell's master at arms. And in the lessons Ned himself taught him, the boy, no, the man is ready. Robert Glover will go with you. He's experienced and steady. Take the Glovers, half the Ember forces, the Kstarks, and the Mountain Clans. That'll give you about 7,000 men. Storm the twins. Take the crossing and link up with the Riverlands host at Riverrun. The rest of us will ride for White Harbor fast as we can. Tywin wants to strike at our hearts. We'll show him Northman steelances such insults. The northern army splits at dawn. Rob rides west with his assigned forces. His [music] direwolf Greywinds lopping beside his horse. Ned watches him go, pride and fear waring in his chest before turning his own column north and east toward White Harbor in the coming battle. The ride to White Harbor is punishing. Ned pushes the men hard, knowing every hour matters. They cover in days what normally takes a week. And by the time the city comes into view, the signs of siege are everywhere. Smoke rises from fire set by Lannister forces. [music] The harbor choke is filled with enemy ships, their halls blocking access to the port. The sounds of battle echo across the water. But as Ned crests the final hill and looks down on White Harbor, he feels a surge of pride in his people. The city still stands. The walls are battered but unbroken. And from the wolfen, the ancient fortress that guards the harbor. Defiance flies in the form of the merman banner of House Manderly. Tywin's forces have underestimated what they face. White Harbor is the North's only port city, and it's built for defense. The harbor entrance is a choke point, narrow and treacherous, lined with archer towers and ballista. Any ship trying to force its way through faces a gauntlet of fire and stone. The Lannister and sail vessels that attempt to rush the port lie broken and burning in the water, testament to northern markmanship and Lord Wyman's defense preparations. And the [music] Wolf's Den itself, ancient and formidable, has proven nearly impossible to storm. The fortress was built by the first Starks to guard this region, and its walls are thick. Its approaches deadly. Tywin's forces have tried to take it multiple times, and each attempt has been repulsed with heavy casualties. Bodies lie thick around the fortress walls. Lannister Red and Cells sword maltly mixing with Northern Gray. But the siege is taking its toll. Med can see it in the thinning defenders of this wall and the damage [music] to the towers and the smoke rising from inside the city where fires have caught and burned. White Harbor is holding, but it's bleeding and without relief, it will eventually fall. Tywin Lannister himself stands in his command post on a hill overlooking the siege, studying the city through a far glass. At 70, he should be an old man slowing down, but his mind is as sharp as ever, calculating angles and approaches, directing his forces with precision that made him perhaps the finest military commander in Westeros. He's surprised by White Harbor's resistance. The report suggested a trading city, soft and rich, easy to take once the fleet secured the harbor. Instead, he's found a fortress city defended by people who fight like cornered wolves. Lord Wayan Manderly has been a far more capable commander than anyone expected, and the northern soldiers defending the Wolf Sten have turned into a killing ground. Still, Tywin knows it's only a matter of time. Numbers matter in siege war, and he has the numbers. Another few days of assaults, another few hundred bodies thrown at the wall, and the defenders will break. [music] They always do. Then a scout comes riding in hard, his face pale. >> My lord, an army approaches from the south. Northern banners. It's Lord Stark himself. >> Tywin's eyes narrow. He turns his far glass toward the reported direction and sees them. A host of northern soldiers perhaps 13,000 strong marching in disciplined formations toward the har the White Harbor. The direwolf of House Stark flies at their head. And even [music] at that distance, Tywin can see the grim determination in their ranks. >> He split his forces. Interesting. [music] A risk, but necessary given our position. Stark will try to relieve the siege. We need to finish this before he arrives. Intensify the assault on the Wolf's Den. Take it now, and we'll have a fortress to defend against Stark's relief force. The Lannister and Cells sword forces throw themselves at the Wolf's Den with renewed fury. Men scale ladders only to be thrown back by oil and arrows. Siege towers burn before reaching the walls. Battering rams splinter against the ancient gates. The defenders fight with desperate courage, knowing relief is coming, knowing they just need to hold a little longer. Ned's forces arrive at the run. Men pouring [music] across the landscape toward the besieged city. They smash into the Lannister siege lines like a hammer, taking the besieur by surprise. Suddenly, Tywin's forces are fighting on two fronts. The stubborn defenders in the Wolf's Den and the fresh northern army hitting them from behind. Ned himself fights in the vanguard. Ice reaping lives with every swing. The battles of his youth haven't left him. The muscle memory of war, the instincts honed in Robert's rebellion. [music] Around him, northern soldiers fight with the fury of men defending their homes, their city, their lord. The battle rages through the day. Tywin's forces are trapped between the Wolf's Den and Ned's relief army. But they fight with the desperation of men who know they're far from home with no retreat. The Lannister forces are professional soldiers, well-trained and disciplined, and they give ground slowly, making the northerners pay for every foot. Tywin himself rides among his men, rallying them, directing defenses, trying to salvage what he can from the deteriorating situation. He is a lion in truth, dangerous even when cornered. And his tactical adjustments keep the battle closer than it should be. The siege lasts longer than Tywin would have liked. He's lost a lot of men. Too many. Though he knows the northern army can't last long with his blockade and no food for the soldiers. Then, as the sun begins to set on the seventh day, ships appear on the horizon. At first, Ned fears the reinforcements for Tywin. More cell vessels coming to support the siege. But as they draw closer, he sees the banner they fly. Not the line of Lannister, but the fiery heart of Stannis Baratheon with the crowned stag at its center. Stannis Baratheon is come to the north. The meeting is arranged on neutral ground after the battle in the great howl of the Wolf's Den with Lord Wyman Manderly hosting despite his exhaustion. Stannis comes with his commanders, Ned with his northern lords. The ships storm into the harbor choke. Their ram smashing through the Lannister blockade. Stannis's forces are experienced sailors, veterans of countless naval battles, and they tear through the cell vessels with ruthless sufficiency. The choke, which had been the Lannister's advantage, becomes a death trap as Stannis's fleet boxes them in and destroys them ship by ship. On land, Stannis's [music] soldiers pour from the vessels that managed to land, adding fresh troops to the battle. They're disciplined, wellarmed, and led by capable knights loyal to the man who styles himself the rightful king. They hit the Lannister force from yet another direction. And suddenly, Tywin's army is surrounded on three sides. The Wolf Den, Ned's army, and now Stannis's forces. The Lannister lines break. It's not a route. Not at first. Tywin's discipline holds for a time. His commander organizing fighting retreats. His rear guards selling their lives by to buy time for others to escape. But surrounded and outnumbered, there's nowhere to retreat. The Lannister forces are systematically destroyed, pushed back into smaller and smaller pockets until there's nowhere left to run. By the time nightfalls, it's over. The Lannister forces are annihilated, killed, or captured to the last [music] man. Bodies litter the ground around White Harbor, the snow stained red with blood. The northern city is held, battered, but unbroken. The Tywin Lannister's gambit has failed catastrophically. Tywin himself found among the dead a northern arrow through his chest and a baratheon blade through his gut. The old lion died fighting, taking men with him to the end. But even his legendary military genius couldn't overcome being trapped between three armies. The man who terrorized the reigns and Tarbex, who served as hand of the king, who built House Lannister into the most powerful force in Westeros, dies on a battlefield in the north, far from Casterly Rock and the golden halls of his power. In the aftermath, Ned meets with Stannis on the walls of the Wolf's Den. The two men stand side by side, looking out over the carnage, the smoke, the smoking ruins of Lannister ambitions. Stannis speaks first, his voice clipped and precise as always. I heard from my scouts that Tywin was planning this attack, said Davos's connections among the smuggling community. They hear things legitimate merchants miss. When word came that Lannister ships and salsaers were gathering to strike north, I knew you need aid. I couldn't let you face this alone while my brother's usurpus sits comfortably in King's Landing. You have my thanks. Without your arrival, the battle might have gone very differently. White Harbor might have fallen, perhaps. His jaw clenches, and Ned can see the frustration radiating from the man. Renley sits the throne in King's Landing. My throne. He took the crown while I was gathering my forces at Dragonstone. claimed it with Tyrell backing in the support of the soft lords who care more for charming smiles than the law and right. The realm is fractured, but Tarwin is dead. The Lannister threat is ended, at least for now. Dead along with the strongest army in the Westerlands. I don't have forces to assault King's Landing. Not with Renley commanding the capital's garrison and the entire strength of the Reach. But I also won't let my brother's actions stand. The throne is mine by right and I will have it. Then we wait, regroup. I've sent my son to take the twins and join with the Riverlands forces. Between your men, mine, and the riverlords, we'll have an army that can challenge Renley. But first, we consolidate. Secure the north. Ensure the Lannisters can threaten us again. Agreed. We'll need time to rebuild our strength. But mark my words, Lord Stark. I will not rest until I sit the Iron Throne that is mine by every law of gods and men. Meanwhile, far to the south, Rob Stark's assault on the twins is reaching its climax. The young commander has proven himself more capable than anyone expected, using the mountain clans to scale the walls under cover of darkness, opening the gates from within the main assault. The Frey forces caught between betraying their supposed Lannister allies or dying [music] to Northmen steel, largely surrender. Walder Frey himself is dragged before Rob, the ancient lord pleading and blustering in equal measure. Rob's judgment is harsh but fair. Walder Frey is stripped of the twins and confined to a tower for the remainder of his days. The castle is given to House Tully's governance, ensuring this vital crossing will never again be used to betray the North or the Riverlands. The combined Northern and Riverlands forces link up at Riverrun, where Rob meets with the Blackfish and the other Riverlords. Together, they begin clearing Lannister raiders from the Riverlands, pushing the invaders back toward the Westerlands. Without Tywin's leadership, and with the news of the disaster at White Harbor spreading, the Lannister forces in the Riverlands begin to collapse. Some surrender, others [music] flee west. The invasion crumbles. By the time the Ravens carry news of Rob's victories north to White Harbor, Ned allows himself the first genuine smile he's had in weeks. His son has proven himself a commander. The North has defended itself successfully, and Tywin Lannister's threat is ended. But even as the North and Riverland celebrate their victories, in King's Landing, events are unfolding that will shake the realm to its core. The royal wedding between Renley Baratheon and Margie Marjgery Tyrell is the grandest celebration the capital has seen in years. The Tyrells, desperate to cement their alliance with the new king, spare no expense. The great hall of the Red Keep is decorated with flowers from High Garden, gold cloth hanging from every wall. The feast features delicacies from across the seven kingdoms. Roasted swans from the reach, boar from the Kingswood, fish from the sunset sea, fruits from Dorne, wine flows like water, the best vintages from the arbor and beyond. The ceremony itself is beautiful, renley, handsome, and charming. Speaks his vows with the confidence of a man who believes the throne is hid his by right. Marjgery, lovely, and gracious, plays her part perfectly. The high septum presides over the union, blessing the marriage in the name of the seven. Lords and ladies from across the realm watch and celebrate, putting aside their doubts to join in the festivities. The feast lasts for hours. Lords grow drunk and boisterous. Ladies dance and laugh. The Tyrells move through the crowds, cementing alliances, making promises, building the foundations of Renley's reign. Oenna Tyrell, the sharp-witted monarch of House Tyrell, watches everything with calculating eyes, seeing her family's ambitions coming to fruition. As the night grows late, the musicians play the traditional song for the bedding ceremony. It's time for the new queen to be escorted to the royal chambers. Time for the marriage to be consummated and made official in the eyes of gods and men. Lords and ladies begin to form the procession, drunk and laughing, ready to participate in the ancient ritual. Then, Lady Elena stops mid-stride. Her nose wrinkles. She smells something wrong, something repugnant beneath the perfume of flowers and the smell of feast food. It's faint at first, easy to dismiss, but it's there. Accurate chemical. Wrong. >> Do you smell that? >> Others begin to notice it, too. The smell grows stronger, permeating the hall. Lords and ladies look around in confusion, searching for the source. Guards shift nervously, hands moving toward weapons, sensing danger, but unable to identify it. Then, someone sees it. Liquid seeping from beneath the stones of the hall, pooling in low spots, spreading across the floor. It's thick and green black with an oily sheen that catches the torch light. The liquid spreads quickly, much too quickly to be natural, flowing from cracks in the walls, dripping from hidden reservoirs in the ceiling. A voice shouts from the back. Wildfire. The word spreads through the hall in a wave of dawning horror. Wildfire, the substance the pyromancers create, more volatile than any oil, burning with a green flame hot enough to melt stone. There are thousands of pots of it hidden beneath the city. place placed there years ago by the mad king in his final paranoia, ready to burn King's Landing to ash if his enemies came for him. Someone has opened those reservoirs. Someone has let the wildfire flow into [music] the Red Keep. And someone somewhere is about to light it. Panic erupts. Lords and ladies surge toward exits, climbing over each other in their desperate in their desperation to escape. But the doors are too few and the crowd too large, and the wildfire is spreading faster than people can run. Renley shouts for order, trying to rally his guards, trying to organize an evacuation. >> Everyone remain calm. Move to the exits in an orderly. >> But his words are drowned out by screaming. Ladies trip on their gowns and are trampled. [music] Knights push through the crowd, abandoning any pretense of chivalry and their desperation to escape. The smell of wildfire grows overpowering, making people's eyes water. Their throats burn. Marjorie grabs Renley's arm, her eyes wide with terror. >> Renley, we have to run now. Lady Elena, old and wise, knowing she won't make it to safety in time, closes her eyes and thinks of High Garden, of her family, of the roses that bloom in spring. She reaches for her granddaughter's hand one last time. >> Tell your father I'm proud of what we built. Tell him. >> Then the first flame touches the wildfire. The explosion is visible from miles away. The red keep erupts in columns of green fire. The flames roaring upward into the night sky with a sound like the roar of a thousand dragons. The heat is so intense that stone cracks and melts, that metal runs like water, that flesh and bone are consumed in an instant. Every [music] lord and lady in the great hall, every servant and guard, friendly Baratheon and his new bride, Marjgery, the flower of House Tyrell, and the cream of the Reach's nobility, die in seconds. The wildfire spreads through the Red Keep, consuming everything. The throne room burns. The iron throne itself growing red hot from the flames. The royal chambers, the small council chambers, the armory, all burn with that terrible green fire. Anyone who was in the red keep when the explosion happened, who didn't flee at the first hint [music] of danger dies in the inferno. The city watches in horror as their ancient seat of power burns. The small folk pour into the streets, start staring at the pillar of green fire that turns night into day. The city watch tries to maintain order, but there's nothing they can do. Wildfire burns until it exhausts itself. And there's no water in the world that can quench it. By dawn, the Red Keep is smoking [music] in ruin. Its towers collapse, its halls destroyed. The Iron Throne sits amid the rubble, warped by heat, but intact. A symbol of power that has survived disaster. And King's [music] Landing is leaderless, its king dead, its government destroyed, its future uncertain. In the aftermath, as the fires finally begin to die, Peter Beish stands before the assembled survivors of the city watch and the garrison forces that [music] weren't in the Red Keep during the feast. The master of Fitcoin's face is grim, his voice shaking with what seems like genuine grief and rage. This is Stannis Baratheon's work. Who else had the motive? Who else stood to gain from Renley's death? Stannis, a man so bitter about being passed over that he'd murder his own brother and all the lords who supported him. Stannis, who wants the throne so badly, he'd use the Mad King's wildfire to kill anyone in his path. The soldiers listened, their faces dark with anger. They saw the explosion. They saw their comrades die. They saw the nobility of the Reach, their king and his beautiful young queen consumed in green flame. They want someone to blame, someone to punish. We will have justice. I swear to you, by all the gods, Stannis Baratheon will answer for this atrocity. The Tyrell forces, those who weren't in the keep last night, will ride for vengeance. And I will ride with them. I will make certain that the man who did this, who killed a king on his wedding night, faces the punishment he deserves. The soldiers roar their approval. Littlefinger has given them a target for their rage, a purpose for their grief. And in that moment, chaos begins to organize itself around a new center. The man clever enough to survive the disaster, influential enough to command attention, and ruthless enough to use tragedy to seize power. But in the shadowy chamber beneath the ruins of the Tower of the Hand, a very different conversation is taking place. Lord Varys, the master of whispers, stands among his hidden passages, surrounded by the tools of his trade, [music] maps, letters, reports from his network of spies. He's heard Littlefinger speech. He knows what's being said in the streets. And he knows the truth that no one else suspects. Littlefinger enters through a concealed door, his expression shifting from the grieving public servant to something cold and calculating. He looks at Varys with a thin smile. >> That went well. I think the narrative is set. Stannis will be blamed and the realm will rally against him. You've played a dangerous game, Lord Bees. Wildfire is unpredictable. If the flames had spread beyond the keep, but they didn't. I made certain of that. The reserves I opened were specifically chosen, calculated to destroy the great hall and its surrounding without igniting the larger caches under the city. I'm not mad like Aries. I don't want to destroy King's Landing. I want to rule it. >> He moves to Varys's table, studying the maps laid out there. >> I have been playing this for years, you know. Not this exactly. The specifics changed as opportunities arose. But the broadr was useful as long as he lived, but his [music] death was necessary to create the chaos I needed. A little poison carefully administered and the realm fractures. Stannis and Renley tear at each other. The Lannisters fight the Starks. And in confusion, I positioned myself to take control. You poisoned King Robert. I did. A rare substance from Essos, difficult to detect, symptoms consistent with many natural illnesses. Poor Grandmaster Pycel never suspected a thing. And Renley was so focused on securing his throne with the Tyrell marriage that he never thought to check beneath the Red Keep. Never wondering if the mad king's wildfire might still be there, waiting for someone clever enough to use it. And now, now I rebuild. The City Watch is loyal to me. I've been paying them and building their trust for years. The Tyrell forces will need direction. Need someone to lead them against Stannis. I'll [snorts] provide that leadership. And with you and your little birds providing intelligence, we'll create a new order in the chaos. Together, we can rule this realm more effectively than any king. You with your information network, me with my financial acumen, political skills will build the true power behind whatever throne we choose to place. I serve the realm, Lord Beish. I've always served the realm. What you've done, the lives you've taken, the chaos you've unleashed. This doesn't serve the realm. This serves only your ambition. The realm is chaos. It always has been. Lords fighting for power, kings rising and falling, the small folks suffering regardless of who sits the Iron Throne. I'm simply acknowledging that reality and positioning myself to benefit from it. And you will help me. Or or what? Littlefinger's hand moves with surprising speed, drawing a dagger from his sleeve. Or you become another casualty of the tragedy. A victim of the wildfire perhaps? Or murdered by Stannis's agents? There are many possibilities in times of chaos. Varys looks at the blade, then at Little Viger's face. He sees the complete lack of remorse there. The cold calculation. This is a man who poisoned a king who burned hundreds of nobles alive, who will kill anyone who stands between him and power. You won't succeed. You're clever, Lord Beish. Perhaps the cleverest man I've known, but you lack what's truly necessary to rule. You don't understand people. You see them as pieces to manipulate, not as human beings with their own desires and will. That blindness will be your downfall, perhaps, but you won't live to see it. Goodbye, Lord Varys. You were our most useful. The dagger strikes quickly, punching through Varys's robes and into his chest. The spider gasps, his eyes wide with shock, and sags against the table. His little birds, the children he's trained to gather secrets, [music] are scattered throughout the city, unable to help their master. He dies in the shadows where he lived, his secrets dying with him. Littlefinger wipes his blade [music] clean and steps back, looking at the body. One less obstacle. He turns and leaves through the secret passage, already planning his next moves. Over the following days, Littlefinger consolidates his position with ruthless efficiency. He elevates Jenna Slint, the commander of the City Watch, to Lord of Harrenhal, rewarding his loyalty and securing his continued support. He arranges a marriage between Slint and a minor lady of the Crownlands. Giving the upjumped cell sword of an ear of legitimacy, he reaches across the realm to Dorne. Prince Doran Martell, cautious and calculating, is initially suspicious of overtures from the king's landing. But when Littlefinger offers the position of hand of the king to Prince Oberin Martell, the Red Viper, beloved and Dorne and respected throughout the realm, [music] Doran sees an opportunity. The Martell have been isolated for too long, and a position of power in the capital could serve their interests. He accepts the alliance. Finally, Littlefinger sends word to the veil. Liza Aaron, his secret lover and longtime pawn, has been waiting for years for him to call. He offers marriage, offers to bring the veil into his new regime, offers power and security. Lysa accepts immediately, and the knights of the veil begin preparing to ride for King's Landing. Within a fortnight of the wildfire catastrophe, Peter Beish has assembled a coalition that spans half [music] the realm. The City Watch, the surviving Reach forces, Dorne, and the Veil all rally to his banner. And with Varys dead and no one else suspecting the truth, he declares himself protector of the realm, ruling King's Landing in the absence of a clear king, the news reaches the combined Stark Baratheon Tully forces like a thunderbolt. They're encamped at Riverrun, planning their next moves against what they thought were the remaining Lster forces when Ravens arrive with reports from the capital. Renley is dead. The entire Tyrell leadership is dead. The Red Keep destroyed by wildfire. And Peter Beish has emerged from the ashes to seize control of the city. Ned reads the reports multiple times, unable to believe what he's seeing. Little Finger, the master of coin. How could he? What could he possibly? I should have seen it. He positioned himself perfectly. Close enough to power to seem important. Not important enough to seem threatening. He was there when Robert died. He was there when the wildfire was set. And now he's the last man standing, ready to pick up the pieces. He must have planned it all. Robert's poisoning, the wildfire, everything. He manipulated the realm into tearing itself apart so he could seize control. A man that clever, that ruthless, he's more dangerous than Taiwan ever was. Talwin wielded military power. Middlefinger wields chaos itself. Ned looks around at his allies, Stannis, Rob, the Riverlords, the Northern Commanders. They've won victories against the Lannisters, united their forces, secured their territories, but now they face an enemy unlike any they found they fought before. A man with no armies of his own, but with the loyalty of the City Watch, the support of three kingdoms, and the proven ability to manipulate the realm itself into dancing to his tune. We need to plan carefully. Littlefinger has positioned himself cleverly, but he's not invincible. He has armies, yes, but he's not a commander. He has allies, but those alliances are based on expedience, not loyalty. We can beat him, but we need to be smarter than we've been. We need to think like he thinks. Several moves ahead. Then let us begin planning. Peter Beish wants to rule the Seven Kingdoms. We'll show him what happens when clever schemes meet cold iron and the wrath of righteous men. That's our theory. Westeros is a land filled with exciting stories and possibilities, and we love exploring them. 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