Chapter 62: The King's Summons, The Wolf's Duty, and the Shadow's Unfolding Gambit (The Game Begins: Part 1)
The fragile peace that King Robert Baratheon's reign had imposed upon the Seven Kingdoms, a peace bought with Targaryen blood and maintained by Jon Arryn's steady hand and Lannister gold, began to unravel with the swiftness of a snapped anchor chain. The year was 298 AC. For fifteen years, Aelyx Velaryon had watched from his eternal seat in Mount Skatus as Robert's realm indulged in a long, boisterous, and increasingly indebted summer, while his own hidden kingdom on Skagos flourished in disciplined secrecy, its roots sinking ever deeper into the bedrock of magic and time.
The first ill omen arrived at Skagos via a heavily secured, magically relayed message from Tibbit's network in King's Landing, days before the official ravens took flight: Lord Jon Arryn, Hand of the King and Robert's foster father, was dead. The death was sudden, attributed to a swift illness, but Aelyx's agents, with their unparalleled access to the Red Keep's shadowed whispers, reported hushed rumors of poison, of secrets Jon Arryn had been on the verge of uncovering.
"The game quickens," Aelyx announced to Lyanna and his immortal inner circle – his children and most trusted grandchildren, their Valyrian features ageless, their eyes holding the wisdom of centuries. The Obsidian Council Chamber, its ceiling a swirling galaxy of captured starlight, seemed to hum with anticipation. "Jon Arryn was the linchpin holding Robert's disparate reign together. His death creates a vacuum, and nature, especially political nature, abhors a vacuum. The wolves, lions, and stags will soon be at each other's throats."
Lyra and Daenys, their greensight perpetually sifting the currents of fate, confirmed his assessment. "A shadow falls over King's Landing, Greatfather," Lyra whispered, her eyes clouded. "A shadow of golden lions and hidden daggers. The King will ride north."
Daenys nodded. "He seeks a new Hand. He seeks Eddard Stark. And with him, he brings the seeds of war."
As predicted, the official summons soon arrived at Icefang Keep, addressed to Lord Lyulph Volmark (Aelyx's public descendant, a man whose stern Northern features were strikingly offset by the signature Volmark violet eyes, now in his early fifties and renowned for his quiet wisdom and Skagos's continued, almost offensive, prosperity). Lord Eddard Stark, Warden of the North, had been summoned by King Robert Baratheon to Winterfell, for the King himself, with a vast royal retinue, intended to ride north to offer Lord Stark the position of Hand and to propose a betrothal between his heir, Prince Joffrey, and Lord Stark's eldest daughter, Sansa. Lord Lyulph, as one of the North's most prominent and wealthy vassals, was expected to join his liege lord in welcoming the King.
"Eddard Stark as Hand," Aelyx mused, a flicker of something unreadable in his ancient eyes. "An honorable man, a just man, a loyal friend. He is everything a king like Robert needs, and everything a court like King's Landing will devour. He walks into a nest of vipers armed only with his integrity. A noble, but likely fatal, gesture."
Preparations on Skagos began immediately, on two distinct levels. Publicly, Lord Lyulph Volmark ordered the readying of a suitable delegation and lavish gifts befitting a royal visit. Icefang Keep's forges and workshops, fueled by the endless bounty of the (publicly known) "Heir's Hoard" mine, produced wonders: a ceremonial suit of Skagosi steel armor for King Robert, black as night and inlaid with polished jet and silver weirwood leaves, its strength belying its artistry (a subtle Aenar enchantment ensuring its resilience); a necklace of perfectly matched Northern pearls and violet Skagosi amethysts for Queen Cersei, so luminous they seemed to possess an inner fire (Rhaenys's illusionary touch enhancing their gleam); finely wrought hunting knives with weirwood handles for the royal children; and chests of gold, of course, to demonstrate House Volmark's unwavering loyalty and boundless resources.
Lord Lyulph himself, a man meticulously trained for his public role since birth, prepared to embody the perfect Northern vassal: strong, loyal, prosperous, but with no ambition beyond the welfare of Skagos and the service of his Stark liege. He would be accompanied by his eldest son and heir, another Torrhen Volmark, and a retinue of fifty elite Skagosi guards, their discipline and equipment a silent testament to Volmark power. Among his personal attendants, as always, would be glamoured house-elves, led by the current 'Master Eloric' (Tibbit's descendant, centuries old but appearing as a venerable, keen-eyed steward), Aelyx's direct line of observation and subtle influence.
Within Mount Skatus, the preparations were of a different, far more critical nature. Aelyx convened his true council. "The great game of thrones, as they call it in the south, is about to enter a new, more dangerous phase," he declared. "The death of Jon Arryn is almost certainly murder, likely orchestrated by those who feared what he was uncovering – the true parentage of Cersei Lannister's children, I would wager, given the whispers our agents have gathered over years."
This was a secret Aelyx had long possessed, confirmed by his own scrying and the observations of his Emissaries in King's Landing. Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen Baratheon were not Robert's get, but the incestuous issue of Queen Cersei and her twin brother, Ser Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer. It was a truth so explosive it could shatter the Seven Kingdoms.
"Eddard Stark, with his unwavering honor, will inevitably uncover this truth if he accepts the Handship," Aelyx continued. "And when he does, he will confront Cersei and Robert. The Lannisters will not allow such a secret to destroy them. They will act. This royal visit to Winterfell is not merely a king seeking a new Hand; it is the opening gambit in a war for the Iron Throne, whether the players yet realize it or not."
His orders were precise. The Emissary network in King's Landing, Lannisport, and Storm's End was to be placed on highest alert. Every rumor, every troop movement, every whispered conversation in the Red Keep was to be reported instantly. Lyra and Daenys, with their cadre of younger Volmark seers, were to focus their greensight on the key players: Robert, Eddard, Cersei, Jaime, Tywin Lannister (who, though at Casterly Rock, was a constant, brooding presence), Littlefinger, and Varys.
"We must understand the motivations, the strengths, the weaknesses of every piece on this board," Aelyx stressed. "Lord Petyr Baelish, the Master of Coin, a man of low birth but limitless, insidious ambition. Lord Varys, the Master of Whisperers, the eunuch with his network of 'little birds,' whose true loyalties remain an enigma. These two, more than any blustering lord or mailed knight, will shape the chaos to come."
He also issued instructions regarding the potential interaction between the Volmark delegation and Tyrion Lannister, who would undoubtedly be part of the royal retinue. "Tyrion is intelligent, observant, and he left Skagos years ago with unanswered questions. Lord Lyulph, young Torrhen, you will treat him with courtesy, but extreme caution. He will be probing, testing. Reveal nothing beyond our established public facade. Eloric will ensure his movements and interactions are closely monitored."
The journey of Lord Lyulph Volmark and his retinue to Winterfell was swift, their Skagosi-built ships making good time to White Harbor, whence they rode overland. Winterfell was a hive of activity, the ancient castle straining to accommodate the vast Northern delegations arriving to greet their King, and to prepare for the even vaster royal party. Lord Eddard Stark, a man whose face was etched with grief for Jon Arryn and a deep unease at the impending royal summons, greeted his Skagosi vassal with genuine warmth. The Starks had long come to rely on House Volmark's steadfast loyalty and immense resources.
Lyulph presented Ned with a personal gift from Skagos: a magnificent weirwood bow, its wood ancient and pale, strung with dragon sinew (a Skagosi secret, its true origin hidden), said to be capable of unparalleled accuracy and power. "A gift from my house to yours, Lord Stark," Lyulph said, his voice resonating with carefully rehearsed sincerity. "May it serve you well in these uncertain times." Ned accepted it with gratitude, unaware of the deeper symbolism Aelyx had imbued in the offering – a subtle reminder of ancient Northern strength and hidden power.
The atmosphere in Winterfell was thick with anticipation as they awaited King Robert's arrival. Lyulph Volmark, always accompanied by the unobtrusive Eloric, moved through the castle's bustling courtyards and crowded halls, his violet eyes observing, his ears catching every stray word, every nuance of conversation, all relayed instantly to Aelyx deep within Mount Skatus. He noted the excitement of young Robb Stark, the quiet apprehension of Catelyn Stark, the childish squabbles of the younger Stark children, and the brooding presence of Jon Snow, Ned Stark's bastard son, whose true parentage Aelyx knew was the realm's most dangerous secret, a secret he himself guarded with patient interest.
Then, the horns blew. The royal procession had been sighted. King Robert Baratheon, a giant of a man, though now run to fat and drink, his black beard streaked with grey, rode into Winterfell's courtyard, his arrival a whirlwind of noise, courtiers, and Lannister gold. Queen Cersei, beautiful and imperious, followed in a great wheeled litter, her golden hair a beacon, her green eyes holding a glint of cold disdain for the rustic North. Their children – the petulant Prince Joffrey, the gentle Princess Myrcella, the plump young Prince Tommen – were presented, along with Queen Cersei's twin brother, the handsome, arrogant Ser Jaime Lannister of the Kingsguard, and her dwarf brother, Tyrion, his mismatched eyes taking in everything with a cynical, intelligent gleam.
Aelyx, experiencing the scene through Lyulph's senses, felt a thrill of anticipation. The players were assembled. The game was truly afoot. He watched Robert's boisterous, emotional reunion with Eddard Stark, a friendship forged in rebellion, now strained by years of kingship and differing paths. He observed Queen Cersei's barely concealed contempt for the North, and Ser Jaime's cool arrogance. He noted Tyrion Lannister's sharp, appraising gaze as it fell upon Lord Lyulph Volmark, a flicker of recognition, perhaps, or renewed curiosity from his visit to Skagos years before.
The initial interactions were a flurry of formal greetings, feasting preparations, and underlying tensions. King Robert, almost immediately upon arrival, dragged Eddard Stark down to the crypts of Winterfell to pay his respects to the deceased Lyanna Stark, Robert's lost love, and, in the same breath, to offer Ned the Handship.
"I need you, Ned," Robert's booming voice, relayed through Eloric who had found a discreet listening post, was thick with emotion and royal command. "Jon Arryn is dead. Someone killed him. I am surrounded by vipers, by Lannisters. I need a man I can trust. I need my brother."
Eddard Stark's reluctance, his deep sense of foreboding, was palpable even from afar. Catelyn Stark, too, was filled with dread, her instincts screaming against the southern journey. Aelyx understood their fears. King's Landing was a place where honor went to die.
As Robert and Ned spoke, Aelyx focused his attention on the Lannister contingent. He saw Cersei whispering with Jaime, their closeness too intimate for mere siblings. He saw Tyrion observing the Starks, the Northern lords, and his own Volmark descendant with a thoughtful, calculating expression. Tyrion, Aelyx knew, would not have forgotten his visit to Skagos, nor the enigma of its wealth. He would be watching Lord Lyulph, looking for any sign, any clue.
The preparations for the welcome feast were on a grand scale, Winterfell straining to match the expected royal splendor. Lord Lyulph Volmark, on Aelyx's instruction, offered a substantial contribution from Skagos – casks of rare northern wines, herds of Skagosi mountain sheep renowned for their rich flavor, and a chest of finely minted silver stags (a new Skagosi currency Aelyx had introduced for public trade, its value stable and respected) to "assist Lord Stark with the unexpected expenses of hosting His Grace." This generosity further cemented Volmark's image as a loyal and incredibly wealthy vassal, while also subtly reminding all present of Skagos's unique prosperity.
The first part of King Robert's visit was unfolding as Aelyx had anticipated. The pieces were moving into position. Eddard Stark, bound by duty and friendship, would inevitably accept the Handship. He would travel south, into the heart of Lannister intrigue, carrying his Northern honor like a Stark banner into a nest of southern vipers. The game was set. Aelyx Velaryon, from his hidden throne, watched with the patience of millennia, his mind already calculating the moves and countermoves of the bloody, tragic game that was about to consume the Seven Kingdoms. His primary goal remained the same: protect Skagos, preserve his dynasty, and observe. For in the chaos of mortal ambition, often lay the greatest opportunities for those who played the truly long game.