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King Joffrey's voice rang out in the tense courtyard of Sept Baylor
"Ser Ilyn, bring me his head!"
Just when he commanded a sudden screeching sound tore through the air, shattering the moment. The crowd looked up, bewildered, as an eerie cold wind blew through the space, making them panic.
Amidst the chaos and confusion, a big shadow loomed above them, blotting out the sun. Gasps and fearful screams came from everyone as a white owl, with wingspan stretching like a carriage, swooped down. The creature descended with a majestic grace, its talons outstretched towards Eddard Stark who was frozen in his knees.
It swiftly grabbed the man lifting him from the ground. The crowd could only watch bug eyed as the gigantic bird soared into the sky, cradling the lord in its grasp.
Stark dangled helplessly in the air, his surroundings were a blur as they ascended higher and higher. The wind rushed past him, whipping his hair wildly and the ground below shrink into insignificance. His mind racing trying to comprehend the turn of events. Condemned to die and now flying.
The air carried echoes of the city's clamor that now seemed distant and muted. He felt the owl's sturdy talons clutching him tight. He didn't know how to sort out his feeling, everything felt unreal. 'Is it a dream? All those days in the dungeons made me crazy?'.
As the owl soared higher his eyes stayed fixed on the Red Keep's silhouette.
-----
The King's Council convened in a flurry. Their faces etched with disbelief and unease.
Joffrey sat down in a clumsy manner, his youthful arrogance momentarily subdued.
Cersei's fury soon crackled like wildfire, her piercing gaze fixing upon Joffrey with indignation.
"You fo-" She hesitated. "You had Eddard Stark in our grasp, and you chose to squander it!" Her voice full of dismay.
Joffrey, pouted but tried to maintain composure. "He was a traitor! He deserved to die, mother." His words held a hollow bravado, just a kid trying to be a man.
Varys continued "A misstep, Your Grace. A misstep that may cost us dearly."
Pycelle quietly changed the subject, "Your Grace, the appearance of that... That bird must be investigated."
Baelish keeping more composure than the rest, but sickly pale, added "It might serve us better to focus on the repercussions of this incident. The North will not take this kindly. How are we to explain what happened?"
Cersei's frustration simmered. "We need to contain this. You need to fix this! Even with all the talks of your birds you missed it, Varys" The queen spat his name with poison.
The man simply bowed.
As the council meeting continued he fell into silence, the gravity of the situation settling upon him like a heavy cloak.
Varys contemplated and his thoughts painted a grim picture.
'Joffrey's impetuousness and that dammed bird may plunge the Seven Kingdoms into chaos.'
His expression unreadable as he observed the Council's heated discussions.
'The young king is a wild beast. If he keeps doing awful actions we may be doomed. His urges must be kept in control, as much as possible, no one wants another Mad King.'
His concerns extended beyond the immediate ramifications of Eddard Stark's escape. The fate of Lady Sansa, now left at the mercy of the capricious Lannisters. He understood the vulnerability of the Stark girl, caught now in the more and more turbulet King's Landing.
Navigating ahead would demand more than mere cunning—it would require a delicate manipulation of events to salvage what remained of the fragile peace.
'The North will demand answers that we do not have. What to say? The king wanted your Warden dead, but don't worry an owl flew away with him. To where? Not a clue.' he grimace with disgust. ' Ah, this is just wolderful. Even Baelish shouldn't be pleased'.
The topic of the owl remained a baffling anomaly. Their discussions only growing louder.
Joffrey snaped to the guards. "Did any of you see where that beast flew off to? Where did it take the savage traitor?"
The guards exchanged uncertain glances, one of them stepping forward. " It flew north, your grace".
And the room was dead silent.
Pycelle, attempting to quell the growing unease, interjected, "Y-your Grace, the north is vast, surely It's impossible to discern any specific destination or purpose behind such a flight." He fidgeted and stuttered.
She cut him short " He is warden of the north you bloody fool! Where would it take him if not to damned Winterfell!?"
" We don't know for certain it the animal is helping him. It's a beast, how could it think?"
" I'd like to point that owls don't grow to carriage size, Lord Bealish. We need to admit that is special and if it wasn't saving Lord Stark why didn't it pick someone else in the crowd?" Varys quickly said receiving an angered glare from Baelish. If looks could kill...
"It doesn't matter." Cersei murmured.
"I want him dead! We can't-" The king cried with anger.
"We must! We won't have answers standing here. It flew away! Stark is lost! For now we focus on what we can, that is dealing of what to say to the other lords." Queen Cersei face was red and she looked visibly exhausted. 'What we say to my father'.
---
Despite the initial shock of the abduction, Eddard found himself marveling at the majestic creature. A snow owl, almost four horses large with the wings. Claws sharp as swords and pure white feathers.
It's flight was steady, silent and rhythmic. Could even call it peaceful, if not by the scaring sight of the ground.
'We are probably higher than The Wall'.
Clouds passed through now and then. The threes were the size of an ant, the roads barely visible, humans were indiscernible.
After what seemed like hours, the owl descended gracefully, landing on some mountain. Gently released Eddard onto the rocky terrain near a small cave with shadowed entrance by a craggy outcrop.
As Eddard steadied himself, the owl fixed its gaze upon him, a silent communication passing between them, an acknowledgment of safety. Or at least that's what the man understood.
The cave, though dimly lit by the faint light filtering through the entrance, bore signs of recent habitation. An old bonfire lay dormant at the center with some furs around, its embers glowing softly, evidence that someone had sought refuge here not long ago.
The beast nudged Eddard towards the cave. Trusting the silent guidance of the majestic creature he went cautiously, falling after some steps. His legs were weak and the adrenaline was long gone. The wound Jaime Lannister inflicted was not healed. It hurt like shit.
As he tried to find a comforting spot the owl spread its wings and took flight once more, leaving the Stark alone.
The silence of the cave felt deafening. His survival now depended on a freak bird.
Remnants of the bonfire provided a faint warmth amidst the chill, a welcome sensation after flying so long.
His mind soon ran thinking about the day's events. He confessed as they had planned, but was worthless. Arya disappeared amongst the people with Yoren, which he felt grateful for.
And Sansa... Her screams broke his heart. Just to know she was still with that monstrous boy fueled him with anger.
'Just like Aerys, only without wildfire and less paranoia. But they lost me. Sansa is now their last hostage and weapon against the North. Any harm to her will weaken their position.' He reassure himself. 'They need to control the King and keep her safe'.
The owl's guidance to this specific location raised questions. A recently used bonfire can only mean human intervention. Maybe someone control the animal. Or someones.
But who? And why save him?
He heard rumors that Stannis has allegiance with a Red Priestess of Asshai. Could be her magic somehow. He declared for the man as true heir and king of the 7 kingdoms so it made sense.
Thoughts then drifted towards the realms. His concerns weighed heavily, from the unsettling revelation about the Lannister children's lineage to the looming conflict brewing in the South. The Lannisters are driven by their hunger for power and control, they will do anything to keep it. Tywin Lannister still wanted revenge over Catelyn's actions against Tyrion.
Take the Imp as prisoner without proof and push a trial was foolishness. What was his wife thinking?
Stannis Baratheon's claim to the Iron Throne isn't secure. Rightful yes, but complicated. If he gets back to Winterfell he'll have to talk to his bannerman.
Another war, another Baratheon and another mad king. His daughter as the now imprisoned lady stark. He could only blame himself for it.
'Dorne will be neutral. The Reach is likely to side with whoever fits them better and ignore whatever law there is. The Iron islands will use the chaos to do what they do better, loot and plunder. The Riverlands and the Vale should be with Stannis, though it may cost something'.
Eddard pondered a bit longer, but tiredness slowly won over him. His sleep was full of terrors.