Chapter Text
Pain in Its Many Forms - The Red Keep - Eddard
His friend was dead. The Dragon had killed him.
He still had a hard time accepting that fact. Prince Rhaegar Targaryen had killed Robert Baratheon at the Trident. Their pursuit of justice washed away when his friend’s blood had darkened the waters. Robert had become the heart of their campaign. He bolstered their spirits and fought with the fury of a storm. And yet, it had not been enough…
‘’I am sorry, brother.’’ He weakly whispered.
Eddard Stark had not left the battlefield unscathed. Even now he could feel his wounds. After he had killed Ser Jonothor Darry, he had crossed blades with Ser Barristan Selmy.
Which left him soundly defeated. He had lost his left eye to Selmy and received a rather large cut running down the left side of his face. In addition, Someone had seen fit to try and cut him in half diagonally. So now, he sported a large wound down his back as well. The maester had said that he was lucky to be alive. Ned was not quite sure himself. He had given Ned milk of the poppy, but had also cautioned its use. Too much of the liquid would cloud his mind.
He was standing in the Red Keep at the entryway to the throne room. His face and body bandaged, with a walking stick in hand for support. He had not partaken of the milk. Today was too important. Along with him was his mentor Jon Arryn, his good-father Hoster Tully and the skeletal Stannis Baratheon. The two remaining Baratheons had been starved inside Storm’s End, in a craven act of lazy cruelty by Mace Tyrell. Robert’s fury would have been immense at the sight of his gaunt younger brother, of that Ned was sure.
They were the four great lords. The great traitors of the realm. Behind them were three Kingsguard. Ned did not care who. The honorable knights of the Kingsguard had just stood there as his father was burnt alive and his brother died trying to save him. In the very room before them now. Honor? These knights were little more than well-dressed loyal dogs, willing to follow the orders of madness. Why should he view them as any more than what the truth had shown him?
He calmed himself, it hurt. He looked to his left and saw Jon. His mentor gave him a look of pity, as if he had read Ned’s mind. Perhaps he just pitied Ned for his new appearance. Ned looked away, straight ahead. He would not cower. He would do this for his people, like Torrhen Stark before him. He would kneel to spare the North.
The doors opened and the four lords entered. The Iron Throne loomed before them. Tall and twisted, thousands of swords melted together by the flames of the Black Dread. Upon it sat King Rhaegar Targaryen. They said the Mad King had died in his sleep. Sure, he had slept in. Likely with a pillow pressed to his face. That madman’s head had been Ned’s to claim. In that moment, he hoped the new king would bleed himself dry upon the broken swords of his throne.
The four went to bend their knees, as they had been ordered to beforehand.
‘’Your grace’’ They said. Loud and clear for all to hear. They each swore fealty. One by one. It hurt, in more ways than one.
The new Hand of the King had been brought back from his brief exile. Jon Connington had told them that no severe punishments would be served. That the king wanted no bad blood in his realm. The King’s Hand had ended his long winded speech with a warning: Any rumors of disloyalty or treason would be met with swift and devastating force.
No bad blood? There had only ever been bad blood between Starks and Targaryens! His family had only ever lost from their allegiance to the Crown… Although his sister would likely disagree.
His sister, now Queen Lyanna, stood at the side of the Iron Throne. He had not seen her since Harrenhal. She looked like herself but for her attire: A dress of black and red. Showing her new house and loyalties. She stood next to the king’s other wife, Queen Elia. When he looked at Lyanna, she gave him a smile.
Lyanna, his sister. Was she truly so naive? This is where their father and brother died! Why was she smiling? Ned felt the pain once again, along with something new. It was almost too much to bear.
He stopped himself. Yet he could only send a scowl her way, or as much as a scowl could be seen with half a face bandaged. Lyanna’s smile disappeared in an instant, a quiet shock painted her face. Her new sister-wife glanced at her with worried eyes. Ned hadn’t the will to care. The king began to speak.
‘’My lords. I thank you for your restored fealties. I know why this war started! In his madness, my late father broke much of the trust between the Crown and those who serve it.’’
Trust? There had never been any trust.
‘’However, Robert Baratheon was far too hasty in his call to banners. His nature was revealed as one of greed. A would-be usurper who coveted the throne. The Seven Kingdoms bled because of his greed! I know that you four before me are not of the same stock.’’
The king was slandering his dead friend. His brother in all but blood. Ned wanted to scream, but if he did The North would suffer for it.
‘’Therefore, before this court and the realm itself. Let it be known that I, King Rhaegar, First of my name. King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, hereby declare that Lord Jon Arryn, Lord Hoster Tully, Lord Stannis Baratheon and Lord Eddard Stark will all keep their lands and titles. The war is over! It is time for the Seven Kingdoms to heal and thrive!’’
Applause and cheers filled the throne room. The lords and ladies celebrated their merciful and generous new king. All of them are sycophants, Ned thought. He felt pain throughout his body and his heart.