"What happened to Arya?" Eddard asked anxiously, his long, melancholic face etched with worry. He hated Lannister, and he hated himself even more.
"Your youngest daughter, Arya, escaped from Ser Meryn. She still has some of the wolf's wildness," Varys told Eddard. "I still haven't found her, and neither have the Lannister men. That, at least, is a mercy from the gods, because our new king, Joffrey, does not love her. Your eldest daughter is still Joffrey's fiancée; Cersei keeps her close. She pleaded for you in court a few days ago. If you had been there, you would have been deeply moved."
Eddard's heart ached. Sending his children south had indeed been the wrong choice. The winds of politics were cruel and merciless. Eddard, of course, knew that the Lannisters wanted to control the two girls; they were the best hostages.
"Lord Eddard, surely you know your tragic fate?" Varys asked him.
"I... I know. But Cersei wouldn't kill me, would she?" Eddard said, dizzy and disoriented. He was hungry and had drunk strong liquor. The alcohol quickly took effect.
"One can never say. You don't have many cards to play."
"Then let her kill me. You can kill me too; cut my throat." Eddard snorted, the alcohol burning in his blood, his body and mind utterly exhausted.
"You misunderstand me. I have little interest in the blood of wolves."
"But you didn't choose me. On that day in the Throne Room, you stood aside, silent."
Varys laughed heartily. "Lord Eddard, when will you truly awaken? If it were now, I would still do the same. After all, at that time, I had no soldiers, no iron, no armor, no helmet, and I was surrounded by Lannister Red Cloaks... Everyone has a role to play, both in and out of the play. It's the same in court: the royal executioner must look fierce, the master of coin must be frugal by nature, and the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard must be exceptionally brave... And the master of whisperers, of course, should be cunning, adept at flattery, and insidious in his actions. A brave master of whisperers is as useless as a cowardly knight."
Eddard looked at Varys's face, which seemed like a mask. Varys had many masks, but what was truly in his heart? "Can you get me out?" Eddard asked.
"Though difficult, it is not entirely impossible," Varys said. "But at what cost, Lord Eddard? All investigative leads would point to me. Why should I take such a risk? Unless..."
"Unless what?" Eddard looked at Varys, not expecting this clown to agree.
"A man in the Black Cells must bow his head. The Winterfell taxi soldiers cannot save you, and the taxi soldiers Across the Narrow Sea cannot save you," Varys said. "If I were you, I would beg for mercy without hesitation and find a way to survive."
"Are you asking me to... That would dishonor me."
"I didn't say that. But eunuchs don't need to worry about honor, and I don't have that fortune."
"Then can you deliver a letter for me?"
"That depends on the content of the letter. If you wish, I'd be happy to provide paper and quill. Once you've written it, I'll read it, and whether or not it's sent will depend on whether it aligns with my personal objectives."
"Your objectives? Lord Varys, may I ask what your objectives are?"
"Peace," Varys replied without hesitation. "If there was one soul in King's Landing who genuinely wished to preserve Robert's life, it was I." Varys sighed. "For fifteen years, I worked tirelessly to protect him from his enemies, yet in the end, I could not prevent it."
"But why did you return?" Varys asked him.
"Mercy and duty," Eddard replied painfully.
"You are an honorable man; I rarely encounter such people. But behind honor and loyalty, what is the cost? These cold Black Cells are your resting place." Varys looked around the Black Cells, damp, cold, and unforgiving.
"I already regret it," Eddard closed his eyes. "The wine the King drank was mostly related to Lancel."
"Why do you ask what you already know?" Varys looked at Eddard. "The King loved wine, and Lancel offered him wine. Cersei told her cousin that this was the King's favorite. Hunting accidents are common; even Tourneys have unexpected incidents. But it's irrelevant; if not a wild boar, there would be a venomous snake, or suddenly appearing arrows."
"But speaking of which, this is also related to you," Varys looked at Eddard.
"Me?" Eddard was stunned.
"Cersei wouldn't wait too long. King Robert was becoming increasingly difficult to control, and then there was you. With all due respect, Lord Eddard, you overstepped your bounds with what you cared about. Your visits to those Brothels, seeing bastards, were too conspicuous. And you absolutely should not have trusted Littlefinger."
"It's my fault," Eddard said painfully.
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