Ned I
Eddard I
283 AC, Crossing at the Trident
Battered and defeated, Eddard Stark awaited his fate on his knees in the commander’s pavilion of the royalist forces. The Battle of the Trident, along with what was already being sung as ‘Robert’s Rebellion’, had ended with the death of his friend and one time foster-brother, Robert Baratheon. Antler helmed and Warhammer in hand, Robert’s seemed one of the Old Gods to Ned. A forest spirit like the ones Old Nan had told him as she put him abed, unable to fall to mortal hands.
The battle had screamed around him as he fought through the fray to reach Robert in the shallows of the ford. He had spotted him mounted on his destrier locked in single combat with the dragon himself, Rhaegar Targaryen. The two men seemed to be the other’s equal, until Robert’s Warhammer grazed across the latter’s night-black breastplate, nearly unhorsing the prince. The decorative rubies that had been arranged in the Targaryen three-headed dragon were broken loose and scattered the ford. Triumph had only momentarily shown on the larger man’s face, only till he turned his mount about and saw the prince had righted himself.
By some gods will Rhaegar’s blade had found an opening in Robert’s armor as he returned the attack and found home. The sword broke as Rhaegar thundered past, the tip of the blade remaining in Robert’s chest. Ned, and the world around him all paused as Robert took in the blood spraying out of his chest and with a look of surprise he fell into the rushing water. With their main leader fallen the rebel army had not known how to proceed. A thousand eyes had turned to Ned and the lords Arryn and Tully to see if any of them would continue the cause.
Despite the ballads calling it Robert’s war, Ned had just as much cause as his friend. Vengeance for the murder of his father and brother, to fight against the tyranny of a mad man fate had cruelly made king, and the alleged honor of his sweet sister. The cause could have lived on through him or the man who had been ordered to send the heads of his wards to King’s Landing. They both called their banner’s along with Robert and had brought the Riverlands into the war by way of marriage. Yet as the young Lord of Winterfell looked upon his fallen friend as the current washed over him, he looked around at the other fallen men. Great lords and knights, fathers and sons, soldiers from both sides lay dead and broken; in the span of a few moments Ned realized how tired he was.
He turned towards Rhaegar, still mounted but cradling an injured arm, and sank to his knees in the shallows. He pulled of his helm before offering up his blood covered sword. His grey eyes meat indigo before bowing his head.
“The day is yours, your grace,” he said. He could feel the weight of a thousand stares as each single one contemplated his own fate. The Northmen were the first to follow their liege, casting aside their arms and joining him on their knees. Jon Arryn came next to him, clasped him on the shoulder, and did the same. Ned’s good-father seemed to hesitate longer than the other two before offering his own submission. The prince had nodded and accepted their surrender in the name of House Targaryen before ordering the uninjured rebels bound and the wounded on both sides tended too.
The rebel leaders had been taken under Targaryen guard unbound to the pavilion to wait for their sentencing. Lord Hoster knelt red faced, his anger pulsating off him, while Jon Arryn shared in Ned’s icy solitude. As they waited their fate, Ned realized he had forfeited all their lives. He had known from the start they were enacting treason against the Iron Throne yet he could not continue on knowing it had been for a lie. Ned rallied his men to him in the name of his father and brother, not for the abduction of his sister by the crown prince as Robert had used to rally men.
“I should have heeded my advisors and never allowed you to pull me into this damn war,” Lord Hoster spat at last. “House Tully had been loyal since the conquest but now we will follow in the steps of House Hoare.”
“We could have continued this war,” Jon Arryn agreed, sparking a deeper sense of guilt in the young lord. “Robert may have fallen but we could have fought on. We could have ended the mad king.”
“It was not Aerys who met us on the field but the prince,” Ned replied. “Robert claimed the Iron Throne through the blood of his grandmother, a claim that died with him. We lost our king. My fight was never with Rhaegar or House Targaryen but Aerys.”
“Rhaegar abducted your sister, Ned,” Jon Arryn reminded him. As if he needed to be reminded, it was all Robert raged about. Without Robert alive Ned had no reason to keep the truth hidden any longer.
“That is what Robert believed, yes. When I arrived at Winterfell, my brother Benjen told me the truth of it. Lyanna had fallen in love with Prince Rhaegar at Harrenhal, my sister went with him of her own will.”
“Why keep this from us?”
“Robert would never have believed it,” Ned explained. “He was to blind in his rage and slighted honor. Besides, Aerys burned my father alive, and my brother strangled in his attempts to free him. By the time I learned the truth, the North had already rallied to avenge them and the war was already being fought in in the south. I couldn’t not march to a war that was partially being fought on behalf of my House. It was not Lyanna I went to war for but to end the Mad King who demanded my head after murdering my kin.”
“When you bent the knee, you ended any hope of seeing the end of the Mad King’s reign. Because of you it is all in vain. Our great houses will fade into obscurity and my poor daughters will be left widows if the gods have mercy. Don’t think for one moment Aerys won’t hesitate to end all our lines.”
Hoster’s words hit Ned like a slap in the face. He hadn’t thought of Catelyn or the child she carried that she had written him of. Young Benjen he thought he left safe in Winterfell, what if Aerys demands his head as well. Perhaps all the rebels would burn as Rickard Stark had.
Their talk was interrupted by the tent flaps being pulled open and Prince Rhaegar entered, followed by a small retinue and an obedience of servants. The latter group carried in several trays ladened with cheeses, salted meats, and from the promising aroma, freshly baked bread. As the servants set up the army camp meal, Rhaegar came before the kneeling men.
The silver-haired prince looked as battle worn as any of them. Since he left them on the field, he had removed his armor and his wounded shoulder had been tended, bound, and his arm put in a sling. He wore no finery, a simple stained undershirt and breeches clothed him to the world, his long hair loose and still wet from being washed hung around his face. Ned watched him for any hint of what was to come but Rhaegar betrayed nothing.
As his war counsel laden their trenchers with food and drank heavily from offered cups, Rhaegar stood over the three rebels morosely. He didn’t seem to take any joy from his victory, did not revel in it as Robert would have, Ned thought. Though glossed over from milk of the poppy, his dark purple eyes betrayed a deep sadness but there was an iron determines that held Ned.
“You fought well, my lords,” the prince finally broke the silence. “I have hardly ever seen the match to each of you. I would have been proud to have had you fight alongside me.”
“Instead, you’ll take pride by mounting our heads on spikes,” Lord Hoster said gruffly. “You should have spared us all the time and had done it out on the ford.” Rhaegar watched him with his strange, haunted eyes, looking for something Ned didn’t know.
“I could have,” the prince agreed. “My father would have been delighted in news of my victory accompanied by your heads.”
“Do with us as you must, your grace but I beg you to show mercy on our kinsmen,” Jon Arryn pleaded. “Our shame and treason are our own. Let our heirs have what is theirs and they will prove more loyal to the Iron Throne than we. I’d ask for mercy for our bannermen as well. They only did as their lieges commanded.” A small smile appeared on the prince’s comely face though did not break the sadness rooted there.
“I swear by the old gods and the new that your bannermen and theirs shall receive no retaliation from the crown,” he swore as he knelt to help the older man to his feet. He nodded for Hoster and Ned to do the same.
“I would ask that you return my sister to Winterfell,” Ned broke in. “She and Benjen can take comfort in each other. Perhaps in time she can recover from her shame and find some northern lord to take as a husband.” Rhaegar shot him a look before turning away towards the serving table.
“There is much to discuss here today, your sister’s honor one of them,” he personally poured each of them a glass of wine and handed it to them.
“Are we toasting our own execution,” Hoster inquired, not accepting the offered cup.
“Mind your tongue or I’ll have it out,” Lord Randyll Tarly spoke for the first time, his hand on his dagger hilt. Two knights held him back as he started towards them, “I regret I didn’t meet any of you on the battlefield! None of you deserve Rhaegar’s mercy.”
“Mercy,” Jon Arryn inquired looking between the man and prince.
“Lord Tarly,” Rhaegar warned, his voice more severe than it had been.
“There will be no mercy,” Hoster spat. “Aerys would never allow it.” A heavy silence filled the room the rebels eying the loyalist with equal hesitation. Rhaegar let out a sigh as he grabbed his own cup and proceeded to take a heavy squig.
“My father is an evil man. On behalf of House Targaryen, I ask forgiveness for the sins he has committed against not only your houses but also the realm. And I ask you not to judge a son by the sins of his father. Our great houses have been allies for centuries and those have been the best centuries the Seven Kingdom’s have ever known.”
“Your father did not run away with a betrothed woman,” Hoster interrupted coldly, the prince flinched against the accusation. Rhaegar straightened himself and closed the distance between them.
“Lord Tully, I am not the monster my father is, and I swear to you that I did not take her against her will.”
“That is what Lord Stark was telling us he believed,” Jon Arryn joined. “That she went with you to become your mistress instead of the lady of a Great House.”
“My wife,” the prince corrected. The tent fell deathly silent, even the few remaining servants held their breaths.
“But Lord Robert and Lyanna –”
“She did not want to marry him,” the former cut off.
“If what you say is true, what of Princess Elia? Where were you all this time,” Hoster Tully asked.
“If all of you would shut your mouths perhaps my nephew can tell you.” The room turned to a heavily bandaged Kingsguard. Lewyn Martell was heavily supported by two squires and the Dornishman was drained of colour and seemed pained with each small movement.
“Lewyn, you shouldn’t be here. You need to rest,” Rhaegar reprimanded as he helped the squires ease him down into a chair. The Dornishman waved him off and swatted away the squires.
“Maesters’ aren’t sure if I’ll make it,” he wheezed. “I figured if it is to be my last act as a Kingsguard perhaps I can help you clean up this disaster.” He allowed the prince to help him drink some of his wine and the two spoke in hushed voices. Rhaegar nodded and returned to the three men.
“We would have the truth of it,” Jon Arryn demanded, reminding Ned of the gentle but firm way he would inquire the truth out of Ned and Robert when they were young.
“You’re in no place to make demands,” Lord Tarly reminded them. Ned ignored him, stepping towards the prince.
“My father and brother died because we thought you stole her away. A war was started because of it. Please, your grace, tell us the truth.” Rhaegar stepped forward and clasped arms with him.
“The truth you will have, Lord Stark. Let us sit and eat while I tell you all the truth and my hopes for all our great houses moving forward. No matter side, the battle was hard fought, and we all need to regain our strengths for what is to come.”
“For mounting our heads on spikes,” Hoster asked though Ned detected a hint of a joke. Rhaegar regained his solemn expression.
“I have no plans for your heads, my lord. Though if what I intend should fail mine shall adorn the walls of Kings Landing beside yours.”
“I have a feeling we will be needing our cups filled for this tale,” Jon Arryn said signaling the page for more wine. When all the men were settled, and food placed before them Rhaegar began into his tale.
“As I said, none more than myself knows what my father is, apart from my poor mother perhaps. She has endured more of his cruelty than anyone can imagine and it’s for her sake I shall not divulge it to you all. We have all heard tales of how some husbands can treat their wives. The queen has suffered far worse than even I know, she always tried to hide it from me as a child.”
“As everyone knows that after Duskendale my father spiraled deeper into madness, and his paranoia worse so. I think it was always there, but Duskendale sprang it fully free, there is no sign of the somewhat sane man I knew as a child. As I grew older, I began to see how fractured the realm truly is and it can never be unified by a man like him. The realm needs to be united and strong to face what is coming.”
“And what exactly is coming,” Hoster inquired, and Rhaegar again gave a small, though sad smile.
“I shall explain that later, after my father is delt with.”
“You plan to usurp your father,” Jon Arryn said getting to the point of the matter. The prince nodded solemnly.
“I had plans to bring the matter to Harrenhall but my father’s spies caught wind of the scheme. When he attended the tournament, my plans were forestalled. He hadn’t left the Red Keep in years; I had no idea he would venture out then.”
“Instead, you meet Lyanna,” Ned reminded everyone.
“Your sister caught my attention when she upended her wine on your younger brother. I was touched how my song moved her, but it was that wild act that drew me to her. A lady in name, Lord Stark, but she had a wildness in her that I had never seen in the south. She was like a breath of fresh air amid the stench clinging to southern holds.”
“I trust you all remember the Knight of the Laughing Tree. After the knight refused to remove his helm, my father personally ordered me to find the knight and bring him his head.” He paused to take more wine. “I found said knight, throwing her armor and shield into the Gods Eye. This wild girl from the North shook with fear as she tried to explain away what she was doing out there and on the shore of the lake, I fell in love with her.”
Rhaegar paused for the men to take in what he had confessed to them. He watched the parade of emotion cross Ned’s face, but he could also tell that beneath his confusion the young man knew what he said was true.
“Father always said she had the wolf blood in her,” the northern lord confirmed, settling the matter for himself.
“She explained how she was defending the honor of one of your father’s bannerman’s sons. I thought that if a mere girl could stand up to such injustice, then surely, I must be able to do the same. So, I returned to Dragonstone and began to court her from afar as I made my plans.” He reached for Ned’s arm again, willing the northerner to believe him.
“I swear upon the old gods and the new, I have brought no dishonor upon your sister or House Stark. Under the old gods on the Isle of Faces, I took your sister as my true wife, Ned.” The use of his private name surprised the young lord. “You are my good-brother as I am yours.”
“But Princess Elia,” Hoster began only to be motioned to silence.
“Is still his legal wife, his first wife and Aegon is still Rhaegar’s heir,” Lewyn supplied for Rhaegar who still clasped arms with Ned.
“Targaryn’s have taken multiple spouses in the past. It is not an uncommon thing for us,” Rhaegar defended himself. “Elia new of my intent with Lyanna and gave her approval. While our marriage is no love match, I do love her for our children and respect her enough to have gained her approval before all this.”
“In Dorne we are more understanding of… unusual relationships,” Lewyn explained. “My nephew needed assurances of the continued legitimacy of Elia’s marriage and that of her children and their place in the succession.”
“Why would Princess Elia agree to this,” Jon Arryn asked for all of them.
“Because she loves me in her way as I do her,” Rhaegar repeated. “She is a sweet creature but delicate. She can never give me another child and knew how important it is to me to have more.”
Ned stewed on this. Lyanna would have done anything to get out of her marriage and she was headstrong. Enough so to run away with a marriage man and damn the consequences of it, though what they brought no one could have known. She never cared about what was proper and her diminished honor would be nothing to her. Looking at Rhaegar’s hand on his arm, the eagerness he found in his face for him to believe what he said. He believed him.
“Where is Lyanna now,” he asked. Rhaegar released him, leaned back beaming.
“Safe, in Dorne,” he told him. “A place in the Red Mountains we call the Tower of Joy. After we wed, we made straight for Dorne, Elia and I knew we would need Dorne’s aid for our plans to work. Despite Elia’s reassurances to Prince Doran, it still took time to convince him of our plan.”
“I doubt Oberyn made it easy for you,” Lewyn chuckled before erupting into a coughing fit.
“He did not,” the prince said. “I’m lucky to have made it out of Dorne.”
“Tell me, how was my sister when you last left her,” Ned asked, eager for news. Rhaegar gave a real unhindered smile.
“She is well,” he beamed. “I left her with three Kingsguards and she is well attended as she awaits the birth of our child.” After the long battle and the revelations of the day, this news broke Ned. He felt tears beginning to flood his eyes.
“She is with child,” he gasped through an escaping sob.
“A girl, if the gods be good,” Rhaegar laughed as well.
“Blessings of the Seven be upon you,” Hoster congratulated him shortly. “I will host a tourney for the babe myself if we can get to the damn point!” Rhaegar only nodded.
“I would ask that we join our armies and march to Kings Landing, take the city and call a Great Counsel. Have all the Great Houses and nobles decide to remove my father from the Iron Throne.”
“And have you crowned in his stead,” Jon Arryn observed.
“I am not blind to how fractured the Seven Kingdoms have become. I have plans to unify us more than we have ever been before.”
“How is that may I ask,” Hoster inquired.
“Marriage. A serious of marriages linking all the Great and Noble Houses in Westeros together. Not only to each other but also to House Targaryen. Without dragons, it was one of my family’s greatest mistakes to keep ourselves so isolated from alliances that marriages bring.”
“Lord Hoster, I offer to marry your heir, Lord Edmure to my daughter, Rhaenys. Finally aligning our houses as they should have been during Aegon V’s reign.”
“House Targaryen is not known for their keeping with betrothals, Prince Rhaegar,” Hoster reminded him dryly. “Did you not just confess marrying an already betrothed woman?”
“I mean for them to marry now, as children. Edmure can serve as my royal page and the children can grow to know one another till they are mature enough to become man and wife in every way.”
“A royal princess is a very odd reward for a rebelling lord, Your Grace,” Hoster observed skeptically.
“Your alliance was sealed by marriages, my lord, and I wish to marry myself into it against my father. By each of my marriages I have bound Dorne and the North to me. Forgive me for any assumptions, Ned.” The Northman considered for a moment before replying.
“If you are truly my sister’s lawful husband and you mean to see your father off the Iron Throne, then the North is yours, Your Grace.” The dragon prince nearly gave a full smile at that, nearly.
“What of the other kingdoms,” Lord Arryn inquired.
“I have been in contact with Tywin Lannister, he marches on the capital as we speak and will begin the siege until we are able to catch up. Hopefully, the city will surrender and there will be no need for a long siege. Along with agreeing to be my Hand of the King, Lord Tywin has promised his daughter Lady Cersei to Oberyn Martell which shall tie in the Westerlands to our alliance. Next, Lord Stark, your younger brother Benjen shall marry Lord Tywin’s cousin, Cerenna Lannister. She is a child still but perhaps going North so young may help her transition into your ways easier.”
“My brother dreams of joining the Nights Watch, Your Grace,” Ned countered. “It has been his dream for a long time.”
“Perhaps in another life it would have been but now your house is greatly diminished, and these ties are vital for the continued security and prosperity of the realm. My own brother himself marry the girl’s younger sister.”
“That is four kingdoms, Your Grace,” Lord Arryn said.
“Correct. As Robert’s brother and heir, Lord Stannis shall be forgiven his treason against the crown if he bends the knee. As well as wed Lord Tyrell’s youngest daughter as House Tyrell have continued to be loyal vassals. The younger brother, Renly, he shall serve at court and in time he shall marry my niece, Arianne.”
“Alliance through marriages is a good start but that cannot be your entire plan to prosper the realm.”
“Lord Mace seems to be getting the short end of the bargain in all this as well,” Lord Hoster surmised.
“Lord Mace shall serve on my Small Council as Master of Coin and Lord Treasurer. I wish for all my Lord Paramount to take part on my Small Council or serve as Advisors. Lord Arryn, your honor knows no equal, I would ask you to serve as my Master of Laws and you Lord Tully as my Lord Justiciar. Ned, I would ask you to serve as Advisor or name one of your bannermen in your stead, I wish for each of the Seven Kingdoms have a voice in my reign.”
“You honor us, my prince,” Lord Arryn bowed to him along with Lord Tully. “You honor me greatly.”
“And I,” Lord Tully agreed, “First we need to win you the damn throne though.”
“Ned,” the dragon prince asked looking to his good-brother. The young lord watched the rich red wine swirl in his cup, his thoughts far to the North and of dire wolves and deep snow. He did not want to leave his sister alone in the south, but a Starks place was in Winterfell.
“Starks do not fair well in the south, Your Grace. I am honored at your offer but my place is in the North. I will help you win your throne and see my sister crowned by your side but after that I must return home. I will find an alternative Northerner to serve you if you will give me leave.”
“Of course, brother,” the prince agreed. “I trust you know your countrymen better than I and as your good-brother I will always trust in your loyalty and your judge of character.”
“What of the eunuch? The creature has been whispering in the Mad King’s ear for years and has poisoned his mind more than his madness already had,” Lord Tully asked. Rhaegar nodded in agreement.
“I will exile him back across the Narrow Sea. To long has he conspired against me for me to ever trust him. I had thought to keep him close as to keep an eye on him, but I would never be able to be at peace with him in the Red Keep. Oberyn Martell will take his place as Master of Whispers. I have also written to the Citadel for a replacement for Grand Maester Pycelle, he is another who has conspired against me.”
“What of the Iron Islands,” Lord Arryn inquired. “What is your plan to incorporate them into the fold?”
“Lord Greyjoy shall be offered the position of Master of Ships. What else could seem more natural.” The prince seemed to make a joke, Ned observed quietly. Perhaps this solemn prince will bring peace to the Seven Kingdoms, and he prayed happiness to Lyanna.
“Will you accept? Will you all swear fealty to me and help me claim the Iron Throne and end the reign of a mad king?” Ned felt a surge of energy pass through him, there was determination behind Rhaegar’s words, hope in his eyes, a fervent faith in, what? Himself? The alliance? A future many have dreamed of but not dared speak of for fear of the Mad King?
Once again, Eddard of House Stark knelt to the Targaryen Prince. Ceding the day to him and vowing his support and in perpetuity his loyalty. Hoster and Jon knelt next and pledge the same, vowing to see him on the throne or to die trying. Soon the war would be over and Ned would see his sweet, wild, sister once again. He would hold her in his arms and grieve for their father and brother with her, gods willing he will meet her child before he returned North.
“Ned, as your good-brother I charge you to gather all able men and march to Kings Landing. I will stay behind to see the wounded are tended and ready to move before hastening to join you.”
“As you wish, my king.”