Disclaimer: ASOIAF belongs to GRRM.

Ned used to think that silence was never present in the Red Keep, and the night before had proven it. He sighed as an image of the drunken king with a whore on his lap crossed his mind, and his leg started to hurt again. Where is the maester? he wondered as memories from the night before started to dance before his eyes.

All he remembered was being at the feast, going outside to get some air, and hearing screams, followed by the smell of fire.

The King's Hand had heard noises coming from the Traitor's Walk, so he headed for the source, expecting to find a fight. With so many drunk people here it's normal, he thought, but what he saw was beyond any image he might have had in mind.

The men that had decided to join the Night's Watch instead of being punished according to what they had done had attacked the guards. It was hard to tell the difference between the two sides through the smoke, but what caught Ned's attention the instant he arrived was the cage in which three men were trapped, fire advancing quickly towards them. Before he had time to think about it, he had picked up an axe from the ground and was heading for them as fast as his legs could carry him. His eyes were full of tears and his movements were slow, but he was able to reach them in time.

"Gave a man the axe!" one of them screamed. Ned could not see his features through his blurred vision, but his accent betrayed the fact that he was not Westerosi. Without any hesitation, he put the axe through the bars. His sword was heavy in the other hand as he backed awayfrom the flames. He needed to get out, to call more guards … he needed to … he needed to …

He did not even realize when he got hit in the back by a longsword, or when he lost consciousness and fell to the ground.

Sitting in his bed, Ned wondered why he had saved those people. But it was a pathetic question, because he knew the answer even before he started to wonder.

They were in chains and caged, surrounded by fire. Helpless, unable to defend themselves. It was his duty as Hand of the King to protect them, to try to save them. Ned didn't knew what they had done to get there, but he knew that no one deserved to die consumed by the flames. He sighed and felt his heart grow heavy as he thought of his own father, the image of him as he was the last time they saw each other crossing his mind.

It seemed that the fight had left some marks on the Red Keep – the Traitor's Walk was mostly destroyed, and so were some of the closest gardens. Countless prisoners had escaped before the guards had arrived and were now free in King's Landing. Ned thought about his daughters, promising himself that he would not let any harm come to them.

He closed his eyes, wishing the maester would come soon. Pain crossed his leg, as well as his back. The blow had not been a fatal one, but it was enough to leave him unconscious for some hours, until he was found next to the Hand's Tower. When he recalled receiving that information, Ned frowned. He did not remember going there.

The door opened with a creak, letting some light inside his chamber (the maester had decided it was better for him to stay in a dark room, as he needed to sleep in order to regain his ray was followed by a man Ned did not remember – his hair was half red and half white and a smile played across his lips, but it did not reach his eyes. Instinctively, Ned reached for a weapon but found none.

"A man does not wish you any harm," the strange man said.

The voice. Ned immediately recognized the accent and could now even identify it, even if he had not heard it in a long time. The Free Cities. Perhaps even Braavos, judging by the way his speech reminded Ned of Syrio, who now trained his younger daughter in swordplay.

"Who are you?"

It was hard to concentrate or to even talk with the pain that caught him, but he did not wish to appear weak. Reaching for a chair, Ned moved to it.

"This man has the honor of being Jaqen H'ghar, once from the free city of Lorath."

Countless questions went through Ned's mind – why did he came to Westeros? How did he end up in the cage? How did he get inside the Tower of the Hand, passing through the guards? Was he the one that had dragged him out of the fight, after escaping the fire? – but knowing he could not ask more than one at time, he tried to decide. But before he finished, the man Ned now knew was named Jaqen spoke again.

"A man should thank a lord for helping. A lord should know, a man pays his debts. A man owes three."

"Three?"

"Only death may pay for life. Speak the names, and a man will do the rest."

Ned's head started to feel like it was spinning. For a moment he thought he had not heard correctly – did that truly mean what it sounded like?

I was sure there must be a reason for him being imprisoned. A murderer, perhaps a hired assassin, offering his services to him! It was almost a slight on his honor as a Stark – he could easily see Tywin Lannister accepting such an offer, or even the Queen, but not him.

"I shall arrest you right now, Ser. I should put you in the cells and leave you there."

"A man is sure a lord must feel offended, through a man is having the best intentions."

"The best intentions? Guards!"

Ned screamed as loudly as he could, and heard footsteps outside, coming closer. What were they doing so far away from his door? He would surely need to talk with their commander.

"Speak three names and a man shall do the rest."

With that, Jaqen H'ghar exited through the same door he had entered in. Ned waited and waited, but he did not hear the sound of a fight. After few seconds, the two guards came inside, asking what the problem was.