Chapter 21 – "Wolves Among Lions"
The gates of King's Landing loomed before them, tall and worn, bristling with gold-cloaked guards and the banners of House Baratheon and House Lannister. The streets beyond were crowded with merchants, noblemen, and commoners who whispered and craned their necks as the procession rode through.
At the head rode Eddard Stark, solemn as stone. Robb Stark beside him, straight-backed and calm. Cregan Stark followed, cloaked in blacksteel and fur, his dark hair tied back, a scar curling near his left brow. Riding beside him was his young niece, Lady Lyanna Stark, nearly four and already famous for her willful charm.
Cregan's direwolf, Shadow, a great black beast with red eyes, walked with soundless grace beside his stallion. Grey Wind, Robb's grey-furred companion, kept to his master's side, his sharp gaze unsettling many of the city guards.
They looked nothing like the South. And that was the point.
As they reached the Red Keep's inner courtyard, the King's Hand himself, Jon Arryn, awaited them.
He stepped forward, flanked by Ser Barristan Selmy and Grand Maester Pycelle. Jon Arryn's age was clear in his bent posture, but his mind remained sharp. His eyes scanned them, resting longest on Cregan and the young girl beside him.
"Lord Eddard," he greeted with warm familiarity. "And your family."
"Lord Hand," Ned said with a small nod. "You know my heir, Robb. And this is my son's daughter, Lyanna. And my son, Cregan."
Jon Arryn bowed his head toward them, then turned to Cregan.
"You must be the young wolf everyone in the court whispers of."
Cregan dismounted in one fluid motion. "So they say, my lord."
Jon Arryn chuckled softly. "Indeed. The court is curious. Lords and ladies whisper of your wolves, your keep, your steel, your trade empire. And, most of all, your silence."
Cregan's smile held sharp edges. "Silence often guards the truth better than a sword."
"Come," Jon Arryn gestured. "The king awaits."
---
The great hall of the Red Keep was as Cregan imagined it: too warm, too bright, and reeking of perfume and ambition. The king lounged on the Iron Throne, one leg slung over an armrest, a goblet in hand. Robert Baratheon, King of the Seven Kingdoms, looked half-drunk and wholly amused.
"Ned!" he bellowed, rising to embrace his old friend. "Gods, it's been too long. And these must be the wolves you keep up North!"
Ned bowed with a slight smile. "Your Grace."
Robert turned to Robb and gave an approving nod. "You look like your father did at your age. Maybe more hair though."
Robb smiled. "Your Grace."
Robert's gaze shifted to Lyanna, then to Cregan.
"And you must be the one I've heard so much about. The keep, the steel, the wolves."
Cregan bowed, but only just. "At your service, Your Grace."
Robert studied him with amused interest. "You're the one building your own snow fortress, eh?"
"Only a keep, Your Grace. Kingdoms are made of people."
Robert burst out laughing. "Well said! Gods, you sound like Stannis but smile like Renly. And this little wolf?"
Lyanna straightened proudly. "I'm Lyanna Stark, Your Grace. Future Queen of Love and Beauty."
Robert let out a roar of laughter. "She's got fire in her! You sure she's not mine, Ned?"
Ned gave him a look that said nothing and everything.
---
As wine flowed and courtiers whispered, the wolves were introduced to the court. Cersei Lannister stood beside the throne, regal and cold. Her eyes lingered on Cregan a moment longer than needed.
"The North grows bold," she said quietly to Pycelle.
"They send wolves now instead of words," Pycelle replied.
Jaime Lannister lounged near a pillar, arms crossed, golden armor gleaming. "So this is the wild one from the North. You look like you haven't smiled in years."
Cregan smiled lazily. "Depends who I'm talking to."
Jaime smirked. "Careful. Sharp tongue for a boy."
"Blunt one, actually. The sharp end's my sword."
The exchange was mild on the surface. But eyes watched.
Varys, the Spider, observed from the shadows, plump hands folded.
"The wolf has claws," he murmured.
"More than one," Littlefinger added beside him. "But which one bites?"
---
Later, in the small council chamber, Jon Arryn sat at the head of the table.
Ned Stark and Cregan joined as invited guests.
Cersei did not attend.
"We welcome the northern lords," said Pycelle. "Especially young Lord Cregan, whose... enterprise has reached even Oldtown."
"So many ships now from the North," Renly commented. "More than we expected from a second son."
Cregan said nothing. He simply watched.
Jon Arryn continued. "The realm should take note of such industrious lords. Especially as the East grows... uncertain."
"The blacksteel trade," Varys said with a small smile, "has become quite the curiosity. There are whispers in Lys and Pentos about weapons that rival Valyrian steel."
"Blacksteel is North-forged," Cregan said simply. "We keep what we earn."
Renly raised a brow. "And sell what you must."
Cregan leaned forward. "Only to friends."
Pycelle cleared his throat. "Such secrecy and strength... may trouble some."
"Only those who plan to trouble the North," Ned replied.
Jon Arryn steered the conversation to the upcoming nameday tourney. "The king wishes it to be grand. A celebration for Prince Joffrey. The northern lords may participate, should they choose."
Robb nodded. "We will."
"And Lady Lyanna?" Varys asked softly. "The northern flower that stole the court's heart with her letters and painted gifts?"
Ned allowed a faint smile. "She rides with us."
"She declared herself Queen of Love and Beauty already," Cregan muttered. "Without asking a soul."
---
As the sun set over the Red Keep, the North retired to their chambers. Squires bustled about with furs and armor. Servants whispered of the wolves in the halls.
Cregan stood at the balcony, staring at the city.
"Too many whispers," Robb muttered beside him.
"Too many eyes," Cregan replied. "This place smells wrong."
Lyanna ran into the room, her arms full of ribbons. "Do I need to wear all these to be Queen of Love and Beauty?"
Cregan raised an eyebrow. "If you want to blind them, yes."
She stuck her tongue out, then gave him a hug. "Promise you'll win."
Cregan sighed, but smiled. "Aye. For you."
---
The wolves had arrived.
And King's Landing was no longer safe from winter.
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