The stairs to the solar seemed to grow in number every year. He was simply glad that his bones were not creaking like the steps beneath his feet. Winter would come to Sunspear before he admitted it, but he almost looked forward to the day when he would leave this world. All of the careful planning he had done to ensure the future of House Stark was being torn apart...by his own daughter, no less…
He couldn't say that he was completely blindsided by Lyanna's actions. She never made it a secret how much she despised young Robert; Rickard just thought she would express it in some other fashion. He had prepared himself for multiple possibilities and he took her threats to flee to Essos or join the wildlings as seriously as he could for a girl of fifteen namedays. If she was truly determined, he wouldn't put it past her to follow through on them but not once did he consider that she would run off with a man, let alone the crown prince. He had always possessed a high opinion of Rhaegar but he was reconsidering that assessment now that he has proven stupid enough to commit this folly.
Rickard may be old but he wasn't blind. He knew something was amiss when Lyanna seemed happy to attend Brandon's wedding. When his heir reminded her that Robert would be there when they got to Riverrun, she only looked surprised for a moment before laughing as if he had told a great joke, completely befuddling everyone in the party except young Benjen, who only looked anxious.
He sighed as he opened the door to his solar. He couldn't help but glare slightly at his youngest son as Rickard sat down behind his desk. He was grateful that his son came clean about his role in Lyanna's escape, but it didn't change the fact that he shouldn't have helped her in the first place. He schooled his expression as he met the gaze of his eldest. He was pleased to find that Brandon's current attitude was appropriately solemn for the occasion. Rickard understood that his son was pleased about his marriage being 'delayed' but there was a war brewing and one way or the other, House Stark would not stand by the wayside.
Eddard looked tense sitting between his brothers, but he seemed to be taking recent events in stride for the most part. He might just be bottling up his anger since he wasn't there to stop his sister but he had confidence that Eddard would keep his composure. Rickard thanked the gods that he didn't have the wolfsblood as well, as their retinue had a hard enough time containing Brandon when he found the winter rose on Lyanna's bed. They didn't need a repeat of that when they returned to Winterfell. Rickard was concerned about him, though. He seemed to be taking it too well.
The letters that arrived in Winterfell before their return painted a clearer picture of what happened in King's Landing during their tense stay in Riverrun. Maester Walys had kept them a secret from Eddard as they were specifically addressed to Rickard. His son was not pleased and Rickard decided to bar the Maester from the meeting to avoid confrontation. He had read the letters and thought hard over the ramifications of them for a day before calling his sons to a discussion in the solar.
They had heard all manner of rumors in Lord Tully's hospitality and the only things that they agreed on was that Steffon was dead and Aerys was responsible. Lord Arryn had to have his men restrain his ward and all but drag him back to the Eyrie when the first whispers reached the Riverlands. At the time, Rickard was glad someone had the sense to stop the lad before he rushed down to charge the Red Keep, warhammer in hand, and throw his life away. Now though…
The alternative would have been so much simpler.
"What did the letters say? What's happening, Father?"
Rickard was broken out of his thoughts by Brandon who was starting to shift nervously in his seat as he would when he was a boy. The sight reminded him of happier times and nearly brought a smile to his face before he ruthlessly suppressed his ill-timed sentimentality.
"Lord Baratheon was executed on the orders of King Aerys after being found guilty of treason against the crown. The King's letter also claimed that Steffon personally tried to murder him in violation of guest right."
Rickard left out some details, but he did not lie. Despite the fact that he was displeased with Maester Walys for ignoring Eddard's authority as acting Lord of Winterfell, he was somewhat grateful that no one had read the missives when they arrived and their contents were left sealed. It would make things much easier.
Brandon's eyes widened. "That doesn't sound like Lord Steffon."
Rickard nodded. "I know, but he still has the fury in him when he's provoked. Both the King's and Lord Arryn's letters agree that he rode into King's Landing to demand the release of Lyanna. Steffon obviously thought Rhaegar abducted her on the King's orders to deprive his heir of a wife."
"Why would King Aerys do that?," Eddard asked. "He'd have nothing to gain and would greatly anger two Lord Paramounts in the process. His sanity might be in question, but he's no simpleton."
Rickard barely held back the urge to chastise his son for speaking with such disrespect, although Eddard likely thought himself frank in his assessment. He supposed his old friend deserved it though, given what chaos he spawned, but old habits die hard. It didn't help that they were all on edge. Gods, he missed Lyarra...
He rubbed circles into his temples as he placed his elbows on the desk. "He would not and did not," Rickard stated firmly. "The accusation is not completely baseless, however. The two of them have been at odds ever since Steffon returned from his expedition to Essos four years ago. I was there when he told the King of his failure. Aerys wanted a wife of pure Valyrian blood for Rhaegar and when Steffon came back empty-handed, His Grace accused Lord Baratheon of conspiring with Tywin Lannister to force his heir to marry a 'servant's daughter'."
At his sons' confused glances, Rickard clarified. "Tywin's daughter, Cersei"
Brandon let out a loud snort followed by an even louder laugh. His brothers followed with chuckles of their own.
Rickard allowed himself a small smirk. "Check your amusement, Brandon. You are likely to marry her yourself if the betrothal with Lady Catelyn fails."
His son's laughing instantly turned into hacking coughs as Ned patted him on the back, not bothering to hide his brief glee at his brother's discomfort.
As Brandon recovered from his coughing fit and reached for the water pitcher, Rickard continued his explanation. "Steffon accused the King of excessive paranoia and, needless to say, Aerys didn't take that very well. Insults were exchanged and if we all didn't share blood, some would have been spilt that day. Once Aerys started making unsavory claims about Steffon's wife, he gave a rather vulgar, verbal resignation from his post as Master of Ships. His Grace got the last word, however. He told Steffon that if he ever dared to show his face in his presence again that he would 'wake the dragon'."
And wake the dragon, he did...
His sons looked slightly disturbed at that. Any time a Targaryen thought himself a dragon, it never ended well for anyone.
"What will Robert do now?" Brandon had met the young Baratheon on multiple occasions and while they often clashed because of their similar personalities, Rickard picked up no true animosity between them.
"He's already declared himself King..." Rickard was interrupted by the high, surprised voice of Benjen.
"What?...I mean...why?" He looked mortified that he had spoken up at all, let alone in the manner that he did. Brandon and Eddard looked just as shocked as their brother with their mouths hanging half agape.
Rickard sighed. "Robert Baratheon has sent his declaration throughout the seven kingdoms. He claims that the actions of King Aerys have stained his rule in the eyes of gods and men and lays claim to the Iron Throne through his great-grandfather Aegon the Unlikely."
"What of Rhaegar?...baby Aegon?...Viserys?" Brandon asked. He saw Eddard twitch at the mention of Rhaegar. While Brandon's anger burned hot and fast before dissipating just as quickly, his brother's lingered and seethed. It was always easier to forgive someone you considered a friend and Brandon spent much of his fostering years around the prince developing a rapport with him. Rickard got the impression that the prince considered Brandon to be somewhat annoying but they seemed fond of each other just the same. Eddard had only met Rhaegar a few times but shared mutual friends with him. Rickard hoped that would be enough to stop the two from coming to blows if they crossed paths…
He shook his head. "He claims that the entire line has been tainted in the eyes of the gods by being spawned by a kinslayer and tyrant and that Rhaegar proved his treacherous blood by kidnapping his betrothed."
Eddard spoke up, his grey eyes narrowing. "He was at Riverrun. Both Lyanna and Prince Rhaegar shamed our family by running off together, but there was no kidnapping."
Brandon huffed. "Robert won't believe something if he doesn't want to."
That was oddly profound of Brandon. He knew that Steffon was always on the boy's back to stop whoring for fear of ruining the betrothal, but his son paid him little heed. Rickard very nearly did break it off when he heard about Robert's bastard girl in the Vale. The love he held for his cousin, Steffon, was the only thing that held the betrothal together. Well...that and the fact that there were no other realistic options among the great houses...
Rickard shook off his musings to respond. "Whether he believes Lyanna was kidnapped or not, it is still a lie presented to the entire realm as truth. We know this for certain, thus putting his other claims about the injustice of his father's death in doubt."
His sons seemed to be accepting of his rationalization with Eddard only hesitating slightly before nodding and asking "Who would stand with him?"
"He should have a hard time gathering further support, but most of the Vale and the entirety of the Stormlands already support him. With those numbers, this has the potential to be the largest conflict since the First Blackfyre Rebellion."
Brandon shrugged "He'll still be crushed swiftly then. Two against five are hardly favorable odds."
"I wouldn't count on that, son. The Iron Throne can only truly count on Dorne and...perhaps the Reach in addition to the Crownlands, of course. Hoster Tully is a good friend of Lord Arryn and an opportunist to boot. He can't be counted on to remain loyal..."
Rickard recalled that Hoster and Lord Arryn excused themselves for a private conversation during their last day in Riverrun. He was not insulted that they didn't see fit to include him, far from it. He had no desire to be an accessory to treason.
"...The Iron Islands won't intervene on the account of any loyalty to greenlanders and will likely pick a side when the war is all but over…"
"Cravens," Brandon muttered, earning an annoyed glance from Rickard for his interruption.
"...and...It pains me to say, but Tywin won't rouse himself on behalf of Aerys unless he's left with no choice."
"He can't oppose him either. Jamie is in the Kingsguard, a hostage in all but name," Eddard interjected.
Rickard nodded. "Aye. Lord Tywin will have to remain neutral for now, leaving the two sides just about equal before we involve ourselves."
He saw Brandon perk up at those words. "We're calling the banners, then?"
"Aye. We're bound by oath and blood. The Starks of old never faltered in their duty and neither shall we. This usurper must be stopped or the realm shall surely descend into chaos." Rickard stood up from his desk to clasp his eldest on the shoulder.
Rickard met Brandon's indigo eyes with his own. "Find Ser Martyn and tell him to prepare the men-at-arms and scour Winter Town and the nearby villages for men. I mean to bring the full might of the North down upon our enemies."
A broad smile crossed his son's face. "Yes, Father."
His son departed with a considerable spring in his step and Rickard didn't know whether to be proud or saddened by Brandon's excitement for war. He worried for his eldest sometimes. He looked like a copy of Rickard himself when he was that age: Tall and imposing with dark brown hair and deep purple eyes. He had the strength of an aurochs...but half as much sense. He was glad that Brandon would have brothers by his side when the time came, to assist in the more cerebral aspects of ruling.
As Brandon left the room, he turned to Benjen. "You will be the Stark in Winterfell when we depart. Can I trust you with such responsibility?"
Whether or not he trusted his son was irrelevant, as there were no other Starks left to perform the duty of ruling Winterfell in their absence, but he was not yet done reminding Benjen of his mistake.
"Of course, Father. I won't disappoint you again." Seeing such a serious expression on his youthful face reminded Rickard of just how fast his youngest was growing. Despite the fact that he was still quite cross with him, he was proud of the man he was becoming. He didn't have the hefty build of his brothers, taking after his grandmother, but he was quick on his feet and even more so with his mind.
He ruffled Benjen's silver hair. "I know you won't. Finish your lessons with Maester Walys, then go over the stores and accounts. Seeing the North through the rest of winter will require you to be familiar with the resources at your disposal."
Benjen gave quick words of assent and made to follow Rickard's directives, leaving him alone with Eddard. He admitted to himself that while Brandon was his favorite child, he and Eddard were the most alike in personality even though he took after his mother in looks. Most times, they understood each other quite well, but Eddard saw through him too often for his liking and it could make dealing with him rather tiresome.
"The outcome of our 'discussion' was fixed from the start." Eddard may have grown sharper during his fostering, but at times he could be as blunt as a spoon.
Rickard waited to answer until he was sitting behind his desk again. "Yes, yes it was."
"I won't forget Lyanna."
He took a vellum of parchment and a quill and began to write. "I wouldn't expect you to. The North remembers."
To Aerys of House Targaryen, Second of His Name, King of The Andals, The Rhoynar...
He could feel the tension in the room grow with each passing second as the faint scratching of his quill filled the silence. The lengthy pause was ended by Eddard's gruff whisper. "Will it?"
Rickard slammed his hand down on the desk. "So you would have us stand by as cousin kills cousin?"
"One cousin already has." Eddard stood up. "The King is mad. You know it. I know it. Brandon knows it. Hells...The entire realm knows it."
Rickard got up and grabbed him by the collar, speaking in a harsh whisper. "Yes, Aerys is mad and he likely roasted Steffon alive for little more than spite and personal amusement." He internally shuddered. The thought was even more sickening to him now that he said his suspicions out loud. "If Robert was merely calling for Aerys' head, I'd gut him myself for what he did, but no...Robert wants the throne...If he wins, every living Targaryen is a threat to his reign...Viserys...Rhaenys...Aegon. They all have to die for his reign to be secure. Do you understand that? Do you truly want Rhaegar dead so much that you would sacrifice the others? Because even Aerys' death isn't worth their lives." He let go of Eddard and his son staggered slightly before slumping back into his chair.
Eddard spoke in a soft voice. "No...no...I certainly don't think Lyanna wants him dead...I don't want that either...I just..." He shook his head and let out a long breath. "...just, should we cross paths, Rhaegar has a lot to answer for."
Rickard calmed himself as he nodded and eased back into his seat. "Aye, that he does..." They spent a few minutes in contemplative silence. "...Go find Brandon. He likely needs your help."
Had it have been Brandon or Benjen, he would have been more subtle with his dismissal, but he knew that Eddard preferred that he be direct with him. He continued to write as he heard his son get up and step out of the room.
...and The First Men, Lord of The Seven Kingdoms and Protector of The Realm…
"Father." Rickard looked up to see Eddard standing in the doorway. "We only ever had one choice, but we still made the right one." His son gave a firm nod before striding down the hallway.
Finally alone in his solar, Rickard leaned back in his chair and let out a long, tired sigh. Every argument with Eddard took a toll on him, but he was glad that his son had let out his anger and saw things his way for now. Steeling himself, he finished his formal letter to Aerys with florid and extravagant declarations of fealty that would be sure to flatter him...or at least assuage his anger somewhat…
He pondered his next move for hours into the night. If the stakes weren't so high, he would never consider it but when the pack was threatened, survival came before honor. They would need every advantage they could get in the dark days to come. Ice would have felt lighter than his quill as he wrote out his next letter.
To Robert of House Baratheon, First of His Name, King of The Andals, The Rhoynar and The First Men, Lord of The Seven Kingdoms and Protector of The Realm...
