"Gosh, would you look at this beauty?"

Eddard couldn't be bothered with horses right now. His mind was still lost in the lustful confusion from the night before last's. He found he could think about little else, and was barely keeping up with Brandon and Benjen as they wandered the grounds before the final tilts.

People were still abuzz after the previous day's excitement, with the Knight of the Laughing Tree appearing, knocking a few sorry Sers off their asses, and disappearing just as quick. King Rhaegar, his friend Robert, dozens of other Knights and Lords had gone on the search, but all that had been found were a few loose pieces of armor and a stolen horse.

The melee and archery contests were already over, and the murmurers were packing up their shows, which left only two true events to this tourney: The final tils this afternoon, and the wedding tonight.

"You're in a good mood for being unhorsed yesterday," Benjen quipped to Brandon, who was still gawking at the grey speckled gelding.. Eddard was struck by what foils these brothers of his were; twenty year old Brandon was so tall, broad of jaw and shoulder, flesh and eyes and hair awash in tans and greys and dark browns. Meanwhile, fourteen year old Benjen was almost too sharp of features and tongue, his pale skin and eyes standing in contrast against hair black as pitch.

"The King himself unhorsed me, and no other man in the lists would have been able to. Besides, horses always make me happy," Brandon shrugged off his loss. "They remind me of Barbrey."

"Don't let father hear you say that," Eddard cautioned. "If he hears you speak of any Lady but Catelyn-"

"He'll what, beat me bloody with his riding crop, like we're seven again?" Brandon blustered, whirling on Eddard. "I'm the perfect noblemen when I'm around her, I smile sweet and call her 'my Lady' and listen to her talk about that little ward of her father's and her bloody seven gods, I even wore her favor in the joust! What more can be asked of me? Besides, with any luck our dear King will take the Tully twit and leave me free to marry a woman who understands me, understands the North… You and Ben will understand one day what that's like, then you won't blame me."

I do understand, though, Eddard thought. His mind drifted back to Ashara's laughing eyes, her soft hair, her softer lips...

"Not me," Benjen sneered. "I don't get all this obsession with Ladies fair." he made a face as he said the last two words. "I'm just going to be a warrior. A Knight, maybe!"

Brandon shook his head. "It's not the Ladies fair part we like, Ben. It's the ones who can be Ladies but still act like dirty wenches, right Ned?"

Eddard sighed. "No, not for me." He turned to Benjen. "There aren't Knights in the North. Knights have to stand vigil before the Warrior in the Sept, or be knighted after a great feat of battle by a King or Lord. Would you turn your back on the old gods?"

"Maybe if it got me a Knighthood."

"Bah, that's not worth thinking on right now. Come on, let's see if we can find Robert and Lya." Brandon marched off through the crowd, followed closely by Ben. Like a child of the forest chasing a giant, Eddard thought as he slipped after them.

Robert and Lyanna were already at their seats, along with Eddard's father, Lord Rickard Stark, and the green eyed Howland Reed. Lord Stark looked stoic as usual, giving only a small nod to his sons when they arrived. Lyanna looked relieved with Robert slid away from her, allowing Brandon, Benjen and Eddard to sit between the two.

They were to the right of the Royal seating, where the Queens Red and Black perched with their respective heirs on their laps. King Rhaegar's throne was empty, as he was one of the four finalists in the jousts. Eddard was disappointed in their seating, as Ashara had told him she'd be sitting with the court ladies, on the left side.

"Why aren't you with your own father and brothers?" Benjen asked Robert, gesturing to the area across the tilts. Dozens of Stormlands Lords sat across from them, including Lord Steffon Baratheon, his wife, and Robert's younger brothers. Steffon and Stannis looked so similar, Eddard realized then, both lean men with the raven hair and ice blue eyes, the biggest difference where their mouths. Lord Steffon's had humor, where Stannis's looked like it was carved of stone.

"They're not as fun," Robert answered with a waggle of his eyebrows, lifting his goblet.

"Yes, and what number of cup are we on already this late morning? Five, six?" Brandon asked sarcastically, winning an approving look from Lyanna.

"Seven, if you'd believe it!" Robert called back. Eddard shook his head at his dear friend. He couldn't tell if Robert was missing the implications on purpose or not, a strategy he had seen put to use in their eight years together in the Eyrie.

"Congrats again on your win, Lord Robert," Eddard said, knowing Robert would bluster at being called 'Lord'.

"My father's not dead yet, Ned. And you could have won that melee just as easily, I don't know why you didn't sign up. We go blow for blow together, easily."

"You know it's not my thing," Eddard said.

"Neither is jousting, for either of us," Robert said with a hiccup, before sipping more wine. "I wish they let the melee winner crown the Queen of Love and Beauty, though. Who would you crown, Ned?"

"You would crown Lyanna."

"I know who I would crown, dimwit!" Robert thundered with a laugh. "I asked who you would crown."

Eddard sighed, before leaning in close. He didn't want Benjen or Brandon hearing; they would run to Lord Rickard before he got the chance to, and they wouldn't understand... Besides, Brandon would never let him live it down, the fact that he suggested they danced in the first place. "You will keep this to yourself?"

"Of course."

"Lady Ashara Dayne. I'm going to ask for her hand."

Robert let out a low whistle, leaning to peer at the Lady where she sat down the lists. Her dress today was a pale orange, much more Dornish in make than the other Ladies. She sat between Lady Wynne Whent, our blushing bride and current Queen of Love and Beauty, and some other young woman of Rhaegar's court who he couldn't place. Ashara saw the two young men peering at her, and gave a small waive.

"Not as fine as your sister, but a woman I would happily bed."

"Take it back," Eddard snapped without thinking.

"Okay, okay…. Wait, Ned, did you… you did! Finally!"

"Quiet!" Eddard hushed him, glancing nervously to see if his brothers were paying attention. They weren't, thankfully, distracted by Howland telling some story about a lizardlion. I don't want anyone to know yet. I don't want to dishonor-"

"Who cares about honor, I've been trying to get you in bed with a woman for as long as I've known you, and it happens as soon as I look the other way? You're eighteen, this should have happened years ago."

Ned shook his head. "I appreciate your concern, brother, but you know I wanted to wait for the right woman, and well, she's it."

"I can see how right she is."

"Take that back! She's beautiful, and a great dancer-"

"Like you have some great opinion on dance-"

"-and she's bright, and we want the same things out of life."

Robert smiled at him. "How drunk were you again?"

"I wasn't… okay I was a… bit drunk but I still mean every word, Robert."

"I know you do, Ned. You know I'm giving you a hard time," Robert bumped against him playfully, spilling some of his wine. "I wish you a warm holdfast, cold ale and a fat firstborn son to name after his uncle Rob, okay?"

Ned smiled. These were the moments he loved best with his adoptive brother, the brother who he fostered with in under the guidance of Lord Arryn. "Thank you, Robert."

"And It'll be the same for Lya and I, just you watch. Well, except Storm's End, not a holdfast… and a son named Ned, not Robert-"

"I get it, brother," Ned laughed, shaking his head. "Now drink your wine before I drown you in it."

Robert went back of his wine, and Eddard thought guiltily over the comments of Lyanna. When Robert asked him to bring the proposal letter north, he had been excited. This man who was like his brother, becoming his goodbrother. But the letter had caused nothing but grief from Lyanna since it's arrival, driving the two siblings apart. He and his sister had gotten into numerous arguments over the Baratheon heir's bastards and drinking, his bad temper and the fights he had gotten into over nothing, leaving Eddard feeling torn between two people he loved most.

"He loves you, Lya," Eddard had promised during their most recent exchange, on the road to Harrenhal. "He'll change for you."

"Love is sweet, dearest Ned, but it cannot change a man's nature," she had said before shutting down the discussion completely. Lyanna had barely spoken to him the entire tourney. She seemed to be denying the inevitable. Lord Rickard had been excited to say yes to the proposal, the idea of his only daughter marrying a great Southron Lord.

But then news of the Queen's death came, and all proposals around the Kingdoms seemed to hang in the air, waiting for their answers until the King made his move. Robert considered the deal set in stone, though, and had been calling Lyanna his fiance since before the proposal letter even left his hands in the Eyrie.

Eddard couldn't help but think it set as well. Brandon was right, Rhaegar would take his Tully bride, or he'd take Allei Waynwood or some Bracken or Blackwood, and the realm would stop holding it's breath and sigh with relief at a new Queen.

In the meantime, he half watched the joust as Robert ordered more wine from a serving wench. Lord Yohn Royce tilted against King Rhaegar and lost, a man who had been so sure of seat the past few days falling completely from his horse in the first tilt. The bronze armored lord cursed as he stood, throwing his helm at a squire as the smallfolk cheered their King. Rhaegar's lance was donned with two favors, one black and purple from his mother, the second red and silver from his daughter.

Arthur Dayne came out next to face Barristan Selmy, the face off that Eddard was the most excited for. The Sword of the Morning had been a hero to him since he was small, the great knight who at such a young age had defeated the Smiling Knight, putting an end to the Kingswood Brotherhood. And this great man will be my goodbrother!

Eddard signed as he watched the Sword of the Morning hold out his lance for Lady Ashara's favor, soft lilac cloth embroidered with small white stars. She loves her family as much as I love mine, even if they get on my last nerve... Another way she's perfect… He sighed, a dreamy boy in love, suddenly regretting not enlisting. He pictured hoisting his own lance, painted in Stark colors but tipped with that lilac blessing…

A blessing that seemed to help the Sword of the Morning very little. The two Knights broke half a dozen lances on each other before Barrison the Bold finally knocked Ser Arthur clean in the head, a move that caused screams in the crown. Ser Arthur looked dizzy as Barristan helped him up from the dust, and his face was bloody as he removed his helm. Barriston helped his defeated foe off the field and into his sister's arms.

Eddard stood to go offer assistance, but Robert pulled him back down. "They're fine, Ned, lesnot miss thaction," his friend slurred, then yelled for more wine.

"No, no more wine, I think," Eddard told the servant when he rushed over, to Robert's dismay. Eddard shook his head, and decided Robert needed more tending than his hero and his love.

Once the squires had picked up the pieces of broken lance and scattered dry dirt over the blood, the final tilt began.

Ser Barristan the Bold took up on the nearside of the lists. The white enameled scales of his armor were almost blinding in the midday sun, and a slight breeze stirred the white cloak on his back and the white mane of his charger.

All eyes were on the far side of the lists, though, as King Rhaegar rode out on his midnight coated warhorse. His helm was already on, it's ruby red plume tossing with each step the horse took. The plume matched the rubies in his chest plate perfectly, the three headed jeweled dragon there seemed to swallow sunlight. Every maiden cheered, waving their favors over the railing to him.

He circled the list, waving to his subjects, but taking none of the favors offered. He paused before the stand where his mother, brother, and daughter sat, giving a bow to each of them, before returning to his place and taking the lance from his squire.

Ned hadn't been paying attention to his blood brothers, but it was at this point that Benjen grabbed his arm. "This is exciting. It's a rematch, really."

"What?"

"At Lord Steffon's birthday tourney a few years ago, at Storm's End. We didn't get to go but Robert, you were there, right?" He didn't even pause to let Robert answer. "Ser Barristan won in the final tilt against Rhaegar, when he was still prince. I hope he wins again."

"I'll put five dragons on the King, against Ser Barristan."

Benjen, Eddard and Brandon all peered down the row at their sister, whose smile made her look like a wolf in sheep's clothing. "I'll take that bet!" Benjen exclaimed, eyes lighting up. Both siblings pulled out small pouches, and placed the coins on the railing before them.

"Whamakes you so confident in, heh?" Robert slurred, staring Lyanna down.

She smiled. "Well, like Benjen said, the King lost last time. It'll make him fight harder this time. Plus, he's had a few years of training since their last tilt, and while he's still Bold, the Ser is also getting old."

Brandon chuckled. "Well said, sweet sister. I'm siding with you." He slapped down his own gold dragons, lining between Lyanna's and Benjen's. "Another five, on the King."

Eddard felt Robert inflate next to him. "Five and twenty dragons, on Ser the Old," his friend growled.

"Yeah!" Benjen hooted.

"No, Robert that's foolhardy," Eddard pressed his friend, who was flailing about for his coin purse. "Stick to the five, like everyone else."

"Izit fool hard to be confident in a great hero?" Robert blustered, dropping his entire coin purse on the railing.

"When you blow all of the money your Lord father gave you for the day? Yes."

"Ah Neddy, always counting the coppers."

A horn blew, and the two riders charged. Everyone in the stands seemed to jump to their feet, cheering loudly for either side. Black met white in a spray of splinters, as both lances shattered on their opponent's shields.

The King circled his horse right in front of the Stark family, almost coming close enough to see the indigo eyes peek through the visor. His squire rushed up with a new lance, and before he could even catch his breath, the King's horse was thundering back down the lists towards Ser Barristan.

Benjen and Robert were a few of the only people cheering when King Rhaegar missed on the second run. He was struck, and almost slid off his horse, to the scared screams of the audience.

"What should I buy with your gold, brother?" Benjen asked Brandon, throwing a playful elbow into his ribs. Brandon ruffled his hair.

"Don't count your dragons before they hatch, boy, look!"

For King Rhaegar had steadied himself, and was thundering back towards them, lance locked into place. Barristan charged too, both men calling out their house words as they struck in the center. Barristan hit, lance coming apart, but Rhaegar's lance found the sweet spot mid chest. The old knight fell from his horse, and the crowd roared for their Dragon King.

"I thank you kindly, goodbrother." Brandon grinned as he snatched the purse. The grin turned to a wince when Lyanna struck him. He looked at her, meeting her offence with his own. "What? I didn't mean you and him, I meant him and 'Neddy'!"

Eddard stood. He could have struck his brother then, all three of his brothers. He looked down the lists, past the grandstand with the royal family, and saw Ashara sitting back down, Ser Arthur squeezing in beside her, his head wrapped in fresh bandages.

But Benjen pulled him back down, as Lord Whent had appeared on the royal stage with the crown. Eddard could see the thing was thick, a circle of blue winter roses, ranging from icy to lapis in shade. King Rhaegar stayed ahorse, but pulled off his helm, setting it on the edge of the dias. Lord Whent, the chubby white haired man in bright yellow, beamed at him and the cheering crowd.

"King Rhaegar Targaryen, First of Your Name, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. You have honored me greatly, not just by attending this wedding tourney and blessing the marriage of my only daughter to your Lord Hand, but in riding with all the strength and courage of a true Dragon King. Nothing makes me happier than being able to present you with the grand prize! Ten thousand gold dragons, the victor's shield-" He gestured to his son Whittaker, a youngster who had been serving his brothers as squire over the course of the tourney, walking towards the King with a large tower shield. The shield was painted, quartered with the red-griffons-on-white of house Connington and the black-bats-on-yellow of house Whent.

"-and of course, the Queen of Love and Beauty's crown, yours to reward to the Lady of your choice."

The crowd hushed, and Rhaegar's voice carried over the slight breeze. "I thank you, my Lord, for entertaining us with such a spectacle. The gold I shall donate, part to the Seven, and part back to the wellbeing of your own lands, for being such an accommodating host." There was a cheer at that, and Lord Whent himself looked relieved.

"The shield, as well, I chose to gift, to my Lord Hand and dearest friend, Jon Connington. May it serve as a reminder of this happy wedding day, and a symbol of your strong marriage with the wonderful Wynne Whent." There were more cheers as Lord Connington and Lady Wynne stood from their seats near Ashara, and waved to the attendees.

"Wynne looks much more excited for this attention than Jon does," Brandon observed smugly. Eddard had to agree, despite his lingering annoyance with his elder brother. Even from here he could see how tight-lipped the bridegroom appeared compared to his laughing, erratic bride.

"I will, however, happily take the crown."

The entire audience seemed to take a collective breath. Every unmarried Lady and her father seemed to sit forward, smiling, hoping.

"Who do you think he'll crown?" Benjen asked to no one in particular.

"A future Queen, hopefully." Lord Rickard said wistfully, surprising his four children.

Rhaegar steered his horse away from the Starks, towards Ashara and her Ladies. Eddard tried to swallow his nerves and nearly choked. What would I do if he crowned Ashara? Please, anyone but the Lady Ashara, please….

His gods appeared to hear his pleadings, as the King road past her and the Ladies of his court, curving around the far side of the lists. As he rode forward, all the smiles seemed to die in his wake. He circled slowly, painfully slowly, past the Tully sisters, past Westerland Ladies all in red and gold, past Lord Arryn's niece and Tyrell cousins, curving farther and farther around until finally he hit the area filled with the Northerners.

Oh no... Eddard cursed the selfish, short sightedness of his prayer. It should have been 'anyone but the Lady Ashara... Or my sister'

But before his sister was exactly where King Rhaegar stopped. The Lords and Ladies in attendance we're whispering, full of confusion, except for the Northern nobles. The Umbers, the Karstarks, the Glovers, all cheered the choosing of their liege Lord's daughter.

Lyanna looked as confused as every other Lady in attendance as she stood, and fell to a curtsy before the King.

The King cleared his throat, and all the whispers fell away. "Lady Lyanna Stark of Winterfell," he announced, loud enough for all to hear. "I want to give you this crown, for it is fitting. You are the most beautiful woman I believe I have ever met, and the most fascinating. You've entranced me."

Lyanna's eyes were great grey moons, rising over the hands that covered her gasping mouth.

The King continued, "But I want this crown to also represent something more. I want it to represent the crown I wish you to take up. If you would have me, and if your father would accept, my Lady, I would have you as my bride."

"Yes!" The muffled answer came with zero hesitation. Her hands dropped from her face as tears dropped from her eyes, and she leaned her head forward. "Yes, my King, I would gladly be your bride." Rhaegar smiled, a large and true smile, something Eddard had heard was, well, unheard of. The Dragon King laid the blue rose crown gently upon the She-Wolf's head, and there was polite applause.

Eddard had been so enthralled, he didn't notice Robert stand, or draw a sword, only that he had begun to slip through the railings to the ground. Jolted from confused happiness to dread, he grabbed for his friend. "Robert, stop."

"No." Robert pulled against Eddard's grip on his doublet.

"Rob-"

X X X

The lights had gone out in Eddard's world for a moment. His head felt like a horse had stomped on it, and his face was hot and sticky. When the lights came back, there was blue spring sky straight above him, and blue spring sky eyes staring down at him. Four eyes, two eyes, four again, folding and blurring in and out of each other.

"Ned, Ned! Wake up are you okay?!"

There was a scream somewhere out of his vision, the scream of some dying animal. There was an earthquake below him, jumbling him…

His vision refocused. It was Benjen's eyes above him, he almost struck Benjen in the face with his own as he sat up. The world was blurring, slowing, like a smudged painting. The earthquake was the feet of a thousand fleeing figures. The scream was the dying black war horse, fallen to the ground, it's haunch and stomach torn open from the jagged swipes of a greatsword, it's entrails and blood painting the dust below it pink and red.

And there was Robert Baratheon, stepping over the dying horse, gripping his sword with both hands. He walked towards King Rhaegar, who was on the ground, scrambling backwards. Ser Jonothar Darry and Ser Lewyn Martell charged in from either side, white cloaks flying out behind them as they tried to put themselves between Robert and Rhaegar.

The the Lords and Ladies of the Vale, the Reach, the Riverlands were scattering, struggling to get past one another away from the violence. Ser Gerold Hightower, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, and newly appointed Ser Danwell Frey were pulling Prince Viserys and Princess Myrcella off the grand stand, away from the carnage. Eddard could see his Lady Ashara, yelling at her brother, who had tried to stand to fight and subsequently fell to the ground.

"He struck me," Eddard whispered, touching his face. His hand came away bloodsoaked, and his nose and brow throbbed with every heartbeat. Eddard pushed away the concerned Benjen, and slid through the railings down to the ground.

Even drunk, and wielding a less favored weapon, Robert was a rabid beast in a fight. He had seen Robert taking on Knights in the Vale whilst drunk, for fun. He usually won. Robert roared with every swing of his blade, screaming, "-my bride! You thieving, spineless lizard! Damned inscest born coward, I'll kill you for touching what's mine!"

Jonothar reached him first, and barely exchanged any blows with him before Robert caught him in a heavy down swing, hitting the weak spot where the shoulder jointed, carving downward through his torso. The man coughed blood, and was dead by the time he hit the ground. Lewyn made it to Robert as his brother hit the dirt, and Barristan appeared to help Rhaegar up.

Robert fought forward, desperate to get to the King. Unarmored, he moved quicker, but lay vulnerable. Lewyn tried to stay between them, getting in a strike on Robert's leg. Robert roared, seemingly unhampered by his injury, and their blades locked with an echoing clang.

Eddard stumbled forward, his world still spinning. Everything in his vision seemed to slowly turn red as he knelt down next to the fallen Knight. Ser Jonothar's sword was well balanced, well taken care of. Eddard's hand tightened around the grip as he stood, and moved towards his best friend.

Robert had been cut again, this time on his side, but it was Lewyn who was in trouble. A lucky swing had chopped both of his arms, the blade managing to hit at unprotected wrists. The man screamed as waterfalls of blood drained from the stumps. Robert swung again, ending the man once and for all.

"Robert, stop!" Eddard screamed, lifting the dead man's sword. Robert heaved, turning his head. His face was blood spattered. Like a bloody demon…

"Traitor! You defend him?!" Robert screamed, raising his own blade higher.

"This is madness! He is your King!" Eddard moved forward, keeping his blade level. Everything else seemed to fade out of existence. He couldn't' tell the difference between screams of terror and the wind, which seemed to be picking up. "You're killing for no reason!"

"No reason!? He's taking my love! He's taking our family, Ned!" He had fully distracted Robert now, who stumbled back towards him.

"Please, brother, drop your weapon," Eddard pleaded. He let Robert get close, and tried a move Lord Arryn had taught the two of them, trying to disarm him. Robert resisted, though, and struck Eddard in the head again, with the pommel of the sword. Eddard fell, and his vision blurred again. He kept a tight grip on his sword, and looked up to see three of Robert standing over him, slowly raising his blade. "Please brother, don't!"

"Don't call me brother, you traitorous bastard!" Eddard closed his eyes.

It was over in a flash.

Eddard had moved on instinct. Another move he had drilled too many times with Lord Arryn and Robert and the other wards at the Eyrie, a move for this very situation. Blood leaked down the blade of the stolen sword, over the guard and onto his fingers. He opened his eyes to see the blade buried deep within Robert's stomach, having opened him from groin to rib as he had tried to finish his own swing.

Robert's sword had fallen to the ground, and was slowly being encompassed by the pooling blood as it streamed down from Robert's stomach.

No… NO!

Eddard couldn't tell if he had thought or screamed that. He let go of the blade and caught his childhood friend, his brother, his sparring partner in his arms. The icy blue eyes were gaining another level of cold, and the pink in his lips and cheeks was receding to snow white. "Robert, why? I'm sorry… I didn't…."

Something dripped from his face, onto Robert's dying one. A tear? Blood? Sweat? He couldn't tell. Everything was red.

There was pressure on his shoulder, and he flinched, his whole body jerking, losing his grip on Robert. He turned his head to see his father's his broad face, a face lined with worry, and an equally broad hand extended in offering. "Eddard, stand. Please."

Eddard swallowed. His mouth was dry and tasted like iron. "I… I don't know if…"

"Give me your hand, son. It's over."

Eddard took his father's hand, and was pulled up, out from under his dead brother. Kin slayer. They weren't brothers by blood, but Robert was still kin. And he had killed him.

The rest of the world flooded back into Eddard's vision as he was turned away from the corpses. Before him now, was the King, flanked by Barristan Selmy and Lyanna. The two appeared to be holding him up as he favored his left leg.

"Goodbrother," the King said quietly. Eddard winced at that endearment. That was meant to come from Robert's mouth, from Ser Arthur's. He refused to look the King in the eye, instead locking onto Lyanna's. Grey like Valyrian steel, eyes that were twins to his own.

"You saved me," the King continued, as Eddard searched Lyanna's soul. Why did you do this, shame him in front of so many… He knew why she had. She clung to the King's arm so desperately, like a log drifting through rapids, like he was all that was keeping her afloat. "Not only did you save me, but you saved me from a beloved friend, when my own Kingsguard fell before him. I… You are the epitome of a loyal subject. You are a hero."

No… don't glorify me for this…

"I would honor you, for what you have done for me today. I would appoint you to my Kingsguard, Eddard Stark."

"Of course he will accept." Lord Rickard's voice was like a mountain. A Kingsguard takes no wife… Ashara..

"I don't want that." It was barely audible, a whisper. No one noticed.

He looked for Ashara in the crowd, and found her, still by her brother. She was crying. She was frightened. Her face was filled with horror, that pretty smiling face twisted into a grimace and... She was staring at him… She's afraid of me… I don't deserve you, my love...

"I… I am no knight," He said, louder this time. "And I will not forsake the old gods"

"You don't need to. I can knight whom I wish as King. Ser Barristan, your sword…"

I don't want this… I want her… but I don't deserve anything else… I deserve to be dead, next to Robert…. Eddard closed his eyes as his father's hand pressed downward on his shoulder, and he sunk to his knees. He felt the tip of the blade tap either shoulder, but all the sound had gone out of the world. He felt like he was under water, in the dark, everything muffled.

He felt a heavy cloth drop over his back, and he was pulled back to his feet. He kept his eyes closed as he was lead along. His stomach cramped up, and he doubled over, cursing. His ears could hear again, and he realized his father had been pulling him along, and now was kneeling, checking his abdomen. Eddard could see the edges of a white cloak curling about his body, a blood splattered thing that made him feel ill.

"-didn't see you get struck there, and your flesh looks fine. I'm more worried about that broken nose honestly." His father stood, and Eddard realized they were already inside one of the towers. "As I was saying though, you've done more than I could have dreamed today. You'll be at your sister's side, protecting her, and it's well known that the Kingsguard is like a second small council to the King…"

Eddard had never heard his father say so much at once. He stopped listening again, and allowed himself to be lead down the dark, tunnel like hall, to wherever his future now lay.

X X X

Author's Note

This chapter took longer to write than I thought it would, in part because it ended up being about twice as long as anything I've posted so far, in part due to the subject matter. It's hard to kill your darlings, so to speak, and sword-fight-action-scenes are difficult for me. Any input on improvements would be appreciated.

I'll try to get the next chapter up soon, but I'm working on remodeling a basement this weekend so we'll see how much time I find to write.

Thanks to J and The Last Smith for reviews. Every time I see a new review or new follows and favs, it inspires me. :)