The story will start to become a bit different from the series not that they are back in King's Landing. I know Noah seems a bit in the background at the moment, but his story truly begins when he leaves the castle with his grandfather in a few chapters. He'll get more interesting then.
For now, Noah seems very brainwashed and wanting to please everyone with the last name Lannister, but that will change as the story progresses I promise you.
Eddard.
When they arrived at King's Landing, everyone beyond the tall sand walls came to see their king return from his journey. Ned hadn't been to King's Landing in a long time, only vaguely remembering pieces from Robert's Rebellion, but even that seemed like very long ago now. The palm trees shook slightly in the breeze, and everything had a yellow hue to it. The heat made wearing his riding leathers uncomfortable, and the white horse he was riding was panting beneath him.
They slowed down and finally stopped, Ned wasted no time dismounting and hastily gave the reins of his horse to one of the servants nearby. He looked back at the carriage that was carrying his daughters and their Septa. Sansa was looking around with a pleased look on her face, squinting in the sunlight like everyone else. Somehow she even made squinting look graceful. Her auburn hair shined brilliantly in the sun, it was as if she belonged in the South. Her hair never shined like that while they were in the North. Her younger sister Arya was also squinting and admiring the large castle, her mouth slightly agape unlike her older sister. She twitched in her seat, probably getting antsy from having to sit for most of the day.
As he walked towards the doors of the castle, a man approached him. He had an odd face, and his hair was wet with sweat. His outfit did look like it was taking in a lot of the heat from the sun, wearing mostly black in King's Landing could make anyone die from heat exhaustion.
"Welcome, Lord Stark." the man said, bowing curtly as Ned approached. "Grand Maester Pycelle has called a meeting of the small council. The honor of your presence is requested."
Ned hadn't even been in King's Landing properly for five minutes and he already starting his duty as the King's Hand. They had been riding all day, surely the small council meeting could have waited until the follow. Not having the energy to argue, especially with knowing the consequences, he turned around to look at the carriage that was pulling Jory, his daughters, and their Septa.
"Get the girls settled in, I'll be back in time for supper." Ned commanded. "And Jory, you go with them."
"If you'd like to change into something more appropriate…" the man said, nodding at Ned's uncomfortable dark riding leathers.
Ned stared at him as he removed his riding gloves, his hands already starting to cool down from being trapped inside the hot leather. He followed the man inside the castle, which was only slightly cooler than the outside was. The halls were sparkling, the marble gleamed in the sunlight as they went through door after door protected by Baratheon guards in yellow capes, until finally they reached the throne room.
The only person inside was Jaime Lannister, sitting on the steps that led to the Iron Throne. It was a great contrast, Jaime's shining golden armor next to the twisted iron swords that made up the throne. The throne was beyond ugly, but held a sort of power that made everyone in Westeros want to sit upon it, everyone but Robert's oldest.
"Thank the Gods you're here, Stark." Jaime said, while Ned tried to avoid his gaze as he approached.
"About time we had some stern northern leadership."
"Glad to see you're protecting the throne." Ned said, looking at Jaime as he sauntered his way towards Ned.
"Sturdy old thing." Jaime said. "How many Kings' asses have polished it, I wonder? Um, what's the line? The king shits and the hand wipes."
Ned stared blankly at Jaime. His insult although well delivered, did not even put a damper in Ned's already low mood.
"Very handsome armor." Ned commented, anything else he wanted to say would have not been very kind. "Not a scratch on it."
"I know." Jaime said, quickly. "People have been swinging at me for years, and they always seem to miss."
"You've chosen your opponents wisely then." Ned pointed out.
"I have a knack for it." Jaime said softly.
The two watched each other for a few moments, as if they were sizing the other one up. Jaime with his attractive face and glistening armor, while Ned's face was aged with war and other circumstances in his riding leathers that made him smell like a pig.
"It must be strange for you coming into this room." Jaime said. "I was standing right here when it happened. He was very brave, your brother. Your father too."
Of course Jaime had to bring up his late relatives, Jaime seemed to always bring up things that he knew he could hit a soft spot on the person he was talking to.
"They didn't deserve to die like that." Jaime stated. "Nobody deserves to die like that."
"But you just stood there and watched." Ned replied.
"Five hundred men just stood there and watched." Jaime pointed out. "All the great knights of the seven kingdoms - you think anyone said a word? Lifted a finger? No, Lord Stark. Five hundred men and this room was as silent as a crypt. Except for the screams of course...and the Mad King laughing."
There was that bit again where it was equivalent to someone twisting a knife in Ned's chest. Jaime knew just what to say to people, and his father and brother's death was not something that Ned took lightly.
"And later when I watched the Mad King die, I remembered him laughing as he watched your father burned." Jaime said. "It felt like justice."
"Is that what you tell yourself at night?" Ned asked. Jaime clearly did not expect that answer from Ned, and he raised his eyebrows as he watched the Hand of the King. "You're a servant of justice? That you were avenging my father when you shoved your sword in Aerys Targaryen's back?"
"Tell me - if I stabbed the Mad King in the belly instead of the back, would you admire me more?" Jaime asked.
"You served him well, when serving was safe." Ned said, leaving towards the small council room without another word spoken.
Upon arriving, the table that was set for the small council did not include the king, who was probably running behind. Lord Varys, who was sitting at the table in pale green, rose to his feet to greet Ned.
"Lord Stark." Varys said, holding out his hands to shake Ned's.
"Lord Varys." Ned replied cordially.
"I was grievously sorry to hear of your troubles on the Kingsroad." Varys said, but for some reason he didn't sound very sorry. "We are all praying for Prince Joffrey's full recovery."
"A shame you didn't say a prayer for the butcher's son." Ned said, pulling his hand from Varys's to take his seat on the small council table.
"Renly!" Ned said, upon seeing Robert's youngest brother. "You're looking well."
"And you look tired from the road." Renly responded, as he hugged Ned. "I told them this meeting could wait another day, but-"
"But we have a kingdom to look after." a man spoke up, who had been standing off to the side since Ned arrived in the room. "I've hoped to meet you for some time, Lord Stark. No doubt Lady Catelyn has mentioned me."
"She has, Lord Baelish." Ned said. "I understand you knew my brother Brandon as well."
"All too well. I still carry a token of his esteem, from navel to collarbone." Lord Baelish said, pointing to his chest and neck.
"Perhaps you chose the wrong man to duel with." Ned remarked, smiling slightly.
"It wasn't the man that I chose, my lord. It was Catelyn Tully." Petyr said, as Ned's smile faded. "A woman worth fighting for, I'm sure you'll agree."
"I humbly beg your pardon," Grand Maester Pycelle spoke up. "How many years has it been? You were a young man."
"And you served another king." Ned responded.
"Oh, how forgetful of me." Pycelle said, digging through his robe's pockets for something. He pulled out a large pin, and held it out for Ned to see. "This belongs to you now."
The pin was of a gold hand, the pin that the Hand of the King wore all the time to signify his position.
"Should we begin?" Pycelle asked, as everyone around him moved to take their seats around the table.
"Without the king?" Ned asked, looking around at everyone.
"Winter may be coming, but I'm afraid the same cannot be said for my brother." Renly said, sitting down. Robert was probably off eating dates and plums to celebrate his arrival back to King's Landing, and it oddly did not surprise Ned anymore. Ned hoped that their would not be another feast for the King's arrival, he didn't know how many he would be able to take.
"His Grace has many cares." Varys spoke up. "He entrusts some small matters to us that we might lighten the load."
"We are the Lords of small matters here." Petyr said, as Renly held out a letter for Ned to take from his hand.
Ned took it tentatively, and unrolled it to read what was written on the inside.
"My brother instructs us to stage a tournament in honor of Lord Stark's appointment as Hand of the King." Renly said, and Ned internally groaned. He should've known that one of these was coming, Robert always found an excuse for a tournament or a feast.
"Mmm, how much?" Petyr asked, they all knew that this tournament was not going to be a cheap one.
"40,000 Gold Dragons to the champion. 20,000 to the runner up, and 20,000 to the winning archer." Ned read off.
"Can the treasury bear such expense?" Pycelle asked, his face clearly astounded by the amount of money they were going to need for this tournament.
"I'll have to borrow it. The Lannisters will accommodate, I expect." Petyr said. "We already owe Lord Tywin three million gold, what's another eighty thousand?"
"Are you telling me the crown is three million in debt?" Ned asked, shocked that Robert could've done that in his reign already.
"I'm telling you the crown is six million in debt." Petyr corrected.
"How could you let this happen?" Ned asked.
"The Master of Coin finds the money. The King and The Hand spend it." Petyr said.
"I will not believe the Jon Arryn allowed Robert to bankrupt the realm." Ned said sternly.
"Lord Arryn gave wise and prudent advice, but I fear His Grace doesn't always listen." the Maester said.
"'Counting coppers', he calls it." Renly said.
"I'll speak to him tomorrow. This tournament is an extravagance we cannot afford." Ned said, rolling up the scroll.
"As you will, but still. We best make our plans." Petyr said.
"There will be no plans." Ned interrupted. "Until I speak to Robert."
The men looked around at each other upon Ned raising his voice, clearly it wasn't something that they were used to. Ned, realizing what he had done, leaned forward and put his head in his hands.
"Forgive me, my lords. I had a long ride." Ned apologized.
"You are the King's Hand, Lord Stark." Varys said. "We serve at your pleasure."
Noah.
Noah had finally gotten rid of his hot riding leathers, and was in pale blue like his mother and brother. Noah was sitting on one of the window sills, his back being hit by the wind whenever it blew by as he watched his mother changed Joffrey's bandages. Their blonde hair glistened brightly in the sun, just like how it used to before. Noah's dark brown hair never shined like his siblings or his mother, and never would.
"Ow!" Joffrey exclaimed, trying to rip his arm back from his mother's grasp as she dabbed healing cream onto the closing wound.
"Please, it's nearly healed." their mother said, as she dabbed the other spot. Even though Joffrey was only a year younger than him, he still acted like a child sometimes. Younger than Tommen even.
"It's ugly." Joffrey said, looking at his scar. It was Joffrey's first scar, unlike Noah. He didn't expect Joffrey to resent the scars that he had on his body, most men wore them with pride.
"It's only a scar." Noah said, watching Joffrey shoot him a look.
"A King should have scars, look at your brother Noah." Cersei said, as she wrapped his healing wound in cloth. "You fought off a direwolf. You're a warrior like your father and your brother."
"I'm not like them." Joffrey said, as Noah hopped down from the window sill and walked towards his mother's side. Joffrey looked up at him as Noah rested a hand on the back of his mother's chair to watch her wrap Joffrey's arm. "I didn't fight off anything. It bit me and all I did was scream. And the two Stark girls saw it, both of them."
Noah almost felt bad for his younger brother, just because he wasn't as athletically inclined as other boys his age and couldn't properly handle a sword. His cockiness that he got from the Lannister's seemed to be what was damaging Joffrey, thinking he was excellent when in reality his skills were anept. His stubbornness also got in the way of practicing his skills.
"That's not true. You killed the beast." Cersei assured him. "You only spared the girl because of the love your father bears her father."
Noah's hand on his mother's chair tightened, what his mother was saying didn't seem to add up. From what he understood, Joffrey didn't do anything at all. Why was their mother trying to make Joffrey sound like he had done something heroic? Sparing the girl? Joffrey's sword was at the bottom of the river, and it had been Ned who killed Sansa's direwolf.
Joffrey seemed to realize that too, and immediately spoke up. "I didn't, I-"
"When Aerys Targaryen sat on the Iron Thrones, your father was a rebel and a traitor." Cersei said, tying the cloth as she looked at Joffrey. "Someday you'll sit on the thrones and the truth will be what you make it."
"The throne was never supposed to be for me, Noah-" Joffrey protested.
"Was supposed to be heir." Noah finished for him, as he walked around the table. "But I abdicated, so it's your responsibility now to protect the realm when our father dies. And one day, I'll be sworn to protect you."
"Yes. And you'll wear gold armor just like your uncle." Cersei said, looking up at her older son as she stroked his arm lovingly. "My two oldest boys will make a great king, and a great knight."
"Do I have to marry her?" Joffrey asked, and it took a moment for Noah to realize who exactly Joffrey was talking about.
"Yes." Cersei replied. "She's very beautiful, and young. And if you don't like her, you only need to see her on formal occasions. And when the time comes, to make little princes and princesses."
Joffrey did not seem persuaded by what their mother had to say. If Noah was Joffrey, he would've married Sansa Stark with no hesitation. Well, if he didn't abdicate he could be the one marrying Sansa, not his brother. Curse his luck.
"And if you'd rather fuck painted whores, you'll fuck painted whores." Cersei added. "And if you'd rather lie with noble virgins, so be it. You are my darling boy and the world will be exactly as you want it to be."
A small smile formed on Joffrey's lips, and Noah watched as mother and son had their moment. Noah hadn't gotten a 'darling boy' from their mother in years. Even though he knew that she was still proud of him and his accomplishments, he still missed the loving affection she seemed to only reserve for her middle son Joffrey.
"Do something nice for the Stark girl." Cersei said, as she leaned back.
"I don't want to." Joffrey protested.
"No, but you will." Cersei said, as Joffrey stood up. "The occasional kindness will spare you all sorts of trouble down the road."
"We allow the Northerners too much power." Joffrey said, as Noah went back to leaning on his mother's chair from behind. "They consider themselves our equals."
"How would you handle them?" Cersei asked, and Noah was just as interested to hear how Joffrey would handle the situation. Would he be able to think like a king and make good decisions? He was going to be doing it someday after all.
Joffrey thought for a second, "I'd double their taxe. And command them to supply 10,000 men to the Royal Army."
"A Royal Army?" Cersei asked.
"Why should every Lord command his own men?" Joffrey asked. "It's primitive, no better than the hill tribes. We should have a standing army of men loyal to the crown, trained by experienced soldiers instead of a mob of peasants who've never held pikes in their lives.
"And if the Northerners rebel?" Noah spoke up, Cersei's chair creaked as he pushed more weight onto it.
"I'd crush them. Seize Winterfell and install someone loyal to the realm as Warden of the North. Uncle Kevan, maybe." Joffrey said.
"And these 10,000 troops, would they fight for you or their Lord?" Cersei asked.
"For me. I'm their king." Joffrey said sternly.
"But you've just invaded their homeland, asked them to kill their brothers."
"I'm not asking." Joffrey said, shaking his head.
"The North cannot be held, not by an outsider. It's too big and too wild." Cersei said, standing up. "And when winter comes, the seven Gods together couldn't save you and your Royal Army. A good king knows when to save his strength...and when to destroy his enemies."
"So you both agree?" Joffrey asked, looking to his mother and brother for support. He stood in front of Noah and his mother, trying to search their eyes for some sort of confirmation. "The Starks are enemies?"
Cersei looked down at her son's hands and took one from both boy's in hers. Noah's rough large tan hand and Joffrey's smooth paler one looked like great contrast in her two hands. She squeezed both of them fondly, and looked up into both their eyes.
"Everyone who isn't us is an enemy." Cersei said, her son's looking back at her like she could tell no lie.
He didn't know why he was in his father's room, it was extremely pointless to him. All his father was doing was eating and drinking wine while Noah's cousin stood off to the side with a pitcher to refill the glass whenever Rober pleased. Noah had never been close with his cousin Lancel Lannister at all, when they were young boys he remembered wanting to chop of Lancel's long blonde hair since it was down to his shoulders. Noah couldn't complain much about Lancel's long hair, since his hair had gotten pretty long on their journey to and from Winterfell. He had only recently cut off part of his hair, getting it back to the ear length wavy hair that he usually kept it.
The only other person besides his father, his squire, and Noah was Ser Barristan the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. He had been serving for over forty years, and his gold armor was scratched and dinged in various places, unlike his Uncle Jaime's. Noah didn't have armor anywhere near as nice as the Kingsguard armor, at least in his eyes. Even though it was getting to be dinner, he hadn't put on his armor and practiced all day. In fact, he had been exhausted for most of it, and sleeping on his bed again was going to feel spectacular.
"Yes, it's been a long time." Robert spoke up, tilting his wine glass to see the last of the summer wine sploosh around inside. "But I still remember the face."
Noah's eyebrows furrowed. He hated when people spoke out of context, expecting the person who the comment was aimed at to immediately know what they were talking about. The men in the room remained silent, unaware of how to respond to the king.
"You remember your first?" Robert asked, looking at Ser Barristan.
"Of course, Your Grace." Ser Barristan said, walking towards the middle of the room near Noah.
"Who was it?" Robert asked.
"A Tyroshi." he replied. "Never learned the name."
"How'd you do it?" Robert asked.
"Lance through the heart." Ser Barristan said, almost sadly.
"Quick one." Robert grunted. "What about you Noah?"
"I was Lord Tywin's squire." Noah said, looking towards one of the walls as he remembered. "The camp was under attack and I was in his tent when a boy about my age burst in with his long sword out, almost swinging it madly as he cut over the cloth of the tent. He was a brave boy, or a cocky one who thought he could kill Tywin Lannister and be a hero. He wouldn't have been able to even if I hadn't been there, he didn't even have proper armor on. We both looked into each other's eyes, and for a brief moment I thought he was going to fight back. But he froze, and by the time I had slashed my sword at him, my blade cut into his side so easily, like butter. I just remember distinctly the pain in his green eyes as he fell to the ground, still looking at me in shock as blood gushed from his mouth and the life left his eyes."
"Unfortunate." Robert said, interrupting Noah from his memory. "Mine was some Tarly boy at the Battle of Summerhall. My horse took an arrow so I was on foot. Slogging through the mud, he came running at me. This dumb high-born lad, thinking he could end the rebellion with a swing of his sword."
Noah and Ser Barristan listened intently at Robert's story, Robert recounting it like it had happened yesterday.
"I knocked him down with the hammer. Gods, I was strong then." Robert said. "Caved in his breastplate. Probably shattered every rib he had. Stood over him, hammer in the air. Right before I brought it down he shouted, 'Wait! Wait.'"
Robert chuckled, and Noah's fists tightened on how awful it must've been for the high-born who was stupid enough to go after his father.
"They never tell you how they all shit themselves." Robert said. "They don't put that part in the songs."
Noah looked at Ser Barristan, who was watching his father with a saddened expression, and then to Lancel who was clutching the wine pitcher with white knuckles.
"Now the Tarly's bend their knee like everyone else." Robert said. "He could've lingered at the edge of the battle with the smart boys. And today his wife would be making him miserable, his sons would be ingrates, and he'd be waking three times in the night to piss into a bowl. Wine!"
Lancel jumped slightly at King Robert's thunderous voice, clearly startled by the sudden rise in his voice. Lancel stepped forward and pour the last mouthful of wine into Robert's glass.
"Lancel." Robert said. "Gods, what a stupid name. Lancel Lannister. Who named you? Some halfwit with a stutter?"
Robert snickered at his insult, and Noah looked at Lancel's tightening face. Noah kept his facial expression blank as he watched his father bully his cousin, having no power to do anything about it.
"Noah Baratheon. See that's a name that will make people tremble upon hearing it, King Noah Baratheon would've made men piss their pants. But I guess Ser Noah Baratheon is the best I'm going to get from you."
Lacel continued to stand their in his red cape and long blonde hair, gripping the handle tightly in his hand.
"What are you doing?" Robert asked, looking at Lancel who was still standing there.
"It's empty, Your Grace." Lancel spoke up.
"What do you mean it's empty?" Robert asked.
"There's no more wine." Lancel said quickly.
"Is that what empty means?" Robert asked, his voice raising and angry. "So get more."
Lancel left in a hurry, fleeing the room to fetch more wine for the king. Noah felt bad for him too, his father seemed to pick on everyone. Lancel was doing his best to satisfy the king by bringing him endless food and wine until Robert was full.
"Tell your cousin to get in here!" Robert yelled to Lancel, referring to Jaime who was standing guard outside the door. "Kingslayer! Get in here!"
Jaime Lannister entered the King's chambers, looking at Ser Barristan and Noah as he walked in slowly. Lancel closed the door behind him so that they could quickly run to get more wine.
"Surrounded by Lannisters." Robert commented. "Everytime I close my eyes I see their blonde hair, and their smug satisfied faces."
Jaime opened his mouth to respond, but Robert beat him to it. "It must ruin your pride, huh? Standing out there like a glorified sentry. Jaime Lannister, son of the mighty Tywin. Forced to mind the door while your king eats and drinks and shits and fucks. You see what you're going to get yourself into Noah? You should've kept the Crown Prince title while you still had the chance."
"So come on, we're telling war stories." Robert said. "Who was your first kill? Not counting old men."
"One of the outlaws in the brotherhood." Jaime said.
"I was there that day, you were only a squire. Sixteen years old." Ser Barristan admired."
"You killed Simon Toyne with a counter riposte." Jaime said. "Best move I ever saw."
"A good fighter, Toyne." Barristan said. "But he lacked stamina."
"Your outlaw, any last words?" Robert asked.
"I cut his head off, so no." Jaime responded.
"What about Aerys Targaryen?" Robert pressed. "What did the Mad King say when you stabbed him in the back? I never asked."
Noah looked at Jaime, trying to remember if Jaime ever did properly tell him the story of how he killed the Mad King.
"Did he call you a traitor?" Robert asked. "Did he plead for a reprieve?"
"He said the same thing he had been saying for hours...'burn them all.'" Jaime almost whispered. "If that's all, Your Grace…"
Jaime bowed to both Robert and Ser Barristan, even bowing slightly to Noah before exiting the now silent room, leaving each man to contemplate his thoughts on Jaime's reveal on what the Mad King said.