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NED IV
Looking over the bloodied and lifeless bodies of Ser Hightower and Lord Glover, Ned lamented over what how much in blood his men had paid to see him come this far. Letting out a deep breath, the Warden of the North pondered on just how much more he should have to see paid to see his nephew to back North, where he should belong. No matter how long he all he could think was how impossible the task ahead of him would be, he had never crossed blades with the likes of Arthur Dayne, but he had seen plenty who had, none had lasted long. No matter what Lord Stark did he was sure to pay even more for it.
"Lord Glover lived well. May the old gods watch over him," Ned spoke, his tone grim. Sheathing his blade, Ned turned and looked Howland in the eyes, "And may they watch over us as we finish what we started."
"Lord Stark," Howland said, his voice shallow as he gazed upon Lord Glover's planning face. Looking to his lord Howland seemed to let his anger show in his voice as his desire for vengeance seemed to rear up, "What shall we do now, my Lord."
Howland was a hard man and loyal to Ned's House to the end. He had no doubt that he would follow him to the ends of the Earth for whoever carried the direwolf banner in the name of the Warden of the North. However, he knew how close he had been to Lyanna, and while Reed may not have shown it, Stark knew he wanted to do right by her memory. Which was why Ned dreaded what he had to request of Howland now. "Howland, I can ask no more of you."
"You need not ask, I give it freely Lord Stark," Howland replied. "It is my duty as your Bannerman to see you will be done. The Starks and Reeds have spilled blood for one another for generations."
Ned nodded, knowing he would reply in such a way, but still he knew Howland could not follow him any further, he had to honor Lord Glover. He would not slight Lady Glover by leaving her husband. He had been captive in the deep dungeons of King's Landing. Lord Glover had been spared death from the Mad King when Brandon had demanded Lyanna be returned to the North and even after all that they had done to him over the course of the war he had been eager to run back into harm's way for Lyanna a second time, and it cost him his life. No, Lord Stark would not let his body rot on the side of the road for the crows.
"You have my thanks, Howland, but our duties lie on different paths now." Ned uttered as he turned in the direction of Sunspear. "I must see this through, and you must see that my we pay our debt to the Glovers by seeing their now late lord's bones home where they belong."
Howland was silent for a long moment as, it was obvious that he knew that Ned was right, and yet the young Lord of Greywater Watch wanted to follow his friend headfirst into a fight with Ser Dayne. After a long moment of silence, Howland finally agreed with his lord and removed a Lord Glovers bedroll from the satchel of his mount along with some twine. Using the two, Howland set out pairing the body as best he could until he could find a more suitable arrangement for moving the body.
Ned watched as Howland lofted the body of Lord Glover upon the Bannerman's house before climbing atop his own. The two looked at one another, Ned knowing that he would likely not return if it came to crossing blades with Arthur, but none the less he would not relent now.
"Howland, should I not return," Ned trailed off for a moment at the thought of what his death would mean to his House. "Lord Karstark will rule till a time as which Robb is old enough."
"I will look for a raven when I reach King's Landing, my Lord."
With a nod, Ned himself atop his steed grabbed ahold of the reigns and dug his stirrups into the creature's sides, commanding it forth. Ned rode hard, giving not so much of a glance back as he pressed onto Sunspear. The riding of the past several days had already chafed away much of the sick around his thighs, and he could feel the scabs that had formed peel as he rocked back and forth to the horse's strides, his legs bleeding as his skin cracked. Though the pain was merely a minor annoyance now, his mind was elsewhere.
The thought of crossing blades with the likes of Arthur Dayne occupied his mind. While Ned was certainly no craven, he dreaded the prospect of fighting such a man in earnest. However, if it came to that, he would certainly lay down his life to see his nephew back to Winterfell. Though Ned hoped he could talk some sense into Ashara's brother, get him to see that the boy belonged to his family in addition to assuring him that he would not be harmed for his part in what happened to Lyanna. He would convince Robert as much if necessary. After several hours of hard riding, Ned, at last, could see the capital of the most southern kingdom of Westeros, and it truly was a remarkable sight.
The capital of Dorne, Sunspear, sat perched next to Narrow Sea with a plethora of starches hugging the outermost wall of the three walls and the Threefold Gate, known only as the Shadow City. Sunspear was impressive in terms of its sheer size, but Lord Stark did not find it to his liking. Unlike the structures of the other six kingdoms, Sunspear was made almost entirely from sandstone giving it an ugly, dun color to it that reminded Ned only of dust. Around Sunspear there where towers that rose, pillaring up into the sky. However, two most chief towers, Spear Tower, and the great, domed Tower of the Sun loomed over the Sandship, the first home of the mantel family a long building in the shape of a dromond.
Traveling forth, Ned found himself riding into the Shadow City. It would not do the lord well to enter the city, it was best he didn't attract attention to himself as many in the Dorne had backed the Targaryen Dynast during the war.
For a moment, Ned thought of passing through the Threefold Gate and seeking assistance from the House Martell but was doubtful that they would aid Ned in his venture in stopping Ser Dayne. Besides, even if he could be assured of their support he doubted even more that the if he involved them that they would remain silent on the existence of Lyanna's son, especially with him now being the heir to House Targaryen.
Ned was happy for the late evening, as the streets lay mostly bare, save groups of loud men making for the taverns and brothels that no doubt spotted the city. Ned found Shadow City to be a labyrinth, the building packed together so tightly that he found it hard to believe a person could live as such. But beyond that, the smell of was rancid, slop and dung coated the streets once one left the main road to the gates of Sunspear.
Urging his horse ever forward, Lord stark looked about as he made his way to the port, hoping to arrive there as soon as possible. He imagined if any ship was to sail, it would have to leave soon or be forced to remain in port till the dawn broke. With a glance to the sky, Ned could guess that there was little more than two hours of daylight remained. Eager, Ned whipped his horse into a fast trot, forcing those on the narrow streets to dive out of his path as the Northern Lord passed by.
After navigating the Shadow City, Ned had, at last, arrived at the port of Sunspear. Looking out to the coast, Lord Stark could see the seemingly endless body of water that was the Narrow Sea. Dismounting his horse, the northerner fastened the reins of his steed to a steady enough post and proceeded to make the rest of his journey afoot, to do otherwise would make his obvious to any who would be looking for his arrive.
Looking around the port, the first thing Ned noted was just how quiet it was. The port was long, the planks below his feet creaking with every step, and the air was aloft with the scent of salt water and dead fish. The Port was scarcely populated, save a few drunken sailors laughing against crates as they drank their mead in peace.
All around all Ned saw still ships, docked to port for the coming night, save one at the very end of the port. The ship was by no means a dreadnought, by the looks of it would only man take two or three dozen sailors at most. Yet, it seemed to be the only ship in port whose men were running about in preparation to set sail before nightfall.
As Ned made his approach toward the ship he found his hand resting firmly upon the hilt of his blade as his eyes scanned over the men around the port. Walking up Ned spotted a man shouting orders to the men running about the ship whom he assumed to be the vessel's captain. Come up to the ramp that led aboard the ship, Lord Stark stood and glanced at the man sizing him up. The captain was an old slender man with a flat face that was cracked and wrinkled from old age or the sea, Ned couldn't tell. The man's head was shaven and glistened with sweat from even in the waning hours of the day with if falling as he moved about shouting at some poor sailor boy who had displeased him in one way or another.
After some time, the man, at last, seemed to notice Lord Stark, a spat out at his men to continue making ready the ship before he, at last, approached him. "Pardon m'lord, had I seen you sooner I'd of spoken to you sooner." The man said offering a nearly toothless smile. "What brings you to my ship, m'lord?"
"How do you know I'm high born?" Ned asked narrowing his eyes.
"I've seen more lords and ladies than I care to keep track of m'lord. You all seem to have the same air about you lot." The captain lets out a hearty laugh.
"Fair enough." Ned conceded, rubbing his hands to release some the tension that had built up there. "Your ship, may I ask where it's setting sail for?"
"Pentos of the Free Cites in Essos m'lord. However, if you're looking for passage across the Narrow I'm afraid I have little room left aboard. Though by the look of your not looking for passage there."
"No, I'm not," Ned admitted. "However, I have come looking for a man, he would have had a small babe with him and a long sword across his back."
The man scratched his chin in thought, "Sounds familiar, perhaps, but that would have been hours ago, m'lord."
Nodding Ned looked past the man toward the hold of the ship. "I wonder, would you permit me to inspect this vessel of yours."
"I would. I haven't got much time to get to sea before the night keeps me in port. I'm late as it is to set sail much longer and I'll have to stay in port for the night." The captain seemed too defensive now.
"I would commentate you for your trouble," Ned said taking a step forth but felt the captain's hand clasp down on his shoulder.
"Not another step m'lord." The man said his free hand falling to a dagger at his side. At his point, Ned looked around and noticed near everyone aboard had stopped and had been glancing at him as he stood before the captain.
"Ser Dayne is here then," Ned said more to himself, gripping his own sword tightly. For a long moment, the air seemed to be thick with tension as Ned sized up the men before him. He counted close to twenty men on the deck of the ship, the captain included, most armed with daggers and hooks. While Ned could best many of them, he thought impossible to best them all and still walk intact, let along cross blades with Arthur, if he was ever aboard this ship. Yet he seemed to be left with little choice in the matter as his honor compelled him to act.
Only a moment after Ned had made his dissection to act, the door to the cargo hold swung open, drawing the attention of all but the captain who's eyes never left Ned. Glancing over Ned saw him standing in boiled leather, a pale white longsword in his hand as the two exchanged looks at one another. "Lord Stark." Arthur offered with a nod. "Captain Barres if you would kindly free his lordship from your grasp I would be most pleased."
"You sure you want what ser? We could easily take care of him for you." The man said pulling his knife from his belt. "It would be quick."
"No," Arthur commanded. "There's little honor in that."
Nodding the Captain replaced his knife and stepped away from Ned, though his gaze never left the man as he slipped back into with the rest of his men. Ned looked up as Arthur approached his right hand holding dawn at his side. "You have you come Lord Stark? Why chase me so many leagues and spend so much blood."
"You know why." Ned frowned.
"Lyanna's death was a tragedy-"
"I've not given chase only for what happened to Lyanna." Ned abruptly interrupted. "The boy Arthur."
Ser Dayne sighed as Ned mentioned the existence of his Lyanna's child as if some faint hope had been dashed. "Are you here to see the Usurpers slaughter of the House of Dragons continues?"
"I'm here to see he is with his family. The boy belongs in the north, with his family."
"And how will you protect him? Hm?" Arthur said his voice laced with anger. "Would you have a Targaryen raised in your halls? The Usurper would march on Winterfell just to see another Targaryen head laid before his feet. Already he's shown he has no qualms with having children murdered." Ned felt his eyes drop as he recalled the bodies of Rhaegar's children before his feet, the rumors of how the Mountain had ended them came flooding back to him. "No Lord Stark, the prince is not safe in the halls of the North."
"I would call him my own. Robert would accept him if he were Snow and not Targaryen."
Arthur narrowed his eyes seemingly more insulted than ever before. "The heir to the Iron Throne and House Targaryen paraded around the Seven Kingdoms as a highborn bastard? I'd sooner cast Dawn into the sea than allow that." Arthur lifted his blade in a defensive stance as he eyed Ned. "I will give you this one chance, walk away Lord Stark."
Ned sighed as he drew his own sword. "I cannot, not without my family."
Arthur nodded. "Captain Barres, should Lord Stark happen to best me, you're to cause him no harm. Do not think of interfering."
With that the two began to circle one another, feeling out each other. Ned sent forward a few quick strikes at Sword of the Morning probing to test his opponent, both being parried without a thought on his opponents. Taking a deep breath, Ned thrust his sword forward, now ready to fight in earnest. The move, while quick, was easily parried by Ser Dayne who quickly rebutted the move with a strike of his own. With a turn of his wrist, Ned quickly smacked the cut away, but that was followed quickly by a second. Soon Ned found himself peddling back, blocking more often than taking sticks. Ned felt sweat flowing from his brow as he avoided cut after cut, though he felt that it would only be a matter of time before a strike landed if he didn't start pressing the offensive.
Hitting aside another thrust aimed at his chest, Lord Stark, at last, seemed to find an opening in The Sword of the Morning's defense and took the opportunity to send his blade flying at the man's left side; and yet all his blade found was the salty air. Ser Dayne had used the momentum of Ned parry and easily averted the strike, however, the lord wasn't quite as luck with the stick that came in reply. Ned let out a breathy gasped of pain as he felt the cold hard edge of Dawn run down his left arm, blood flowing as he lost all feeling in his extremity. Not a moment later a sharp pain came from his back as Arthur Dayne used the long sword as a bludgeon, smacking the flat of the blade there, forcing him to his knees.
Ned felt his head grow cold, as sweat pour down his face as he looked down at the planks of the deck his hand gripping at his wound. Grimacing, Ned felt the sharp tip of Dayne's weapon press on the back of his neck, drawing blood at its touch. "You fought well Lord Stark. Better than most." Dayne commended him. "But the day is mine."
"How will you survive? You're only one man you alone cannot raise a child." Ned spat, though his eyes remained on the floor.
"Even in this darkest of hours, there are those who support the Targaryen's. This ship for example, though I will not tell you who it belongs, they indeed want to see Rhaegar's heir take his birthright." Arthur informed Ned. "While I was home, do you think I and Ser Hightower didn't send ravens?"
"I see." Ned sucked in a deep breath. "Kill me and be done with it then."
Then something Ned didn't expect happened, he felt the Dawn lift from the back of his neck and the sound of the sword's metal pressing into the plank behind him. Turing Ned looked back at Ser Dayne who looked down on his with a frown. "You'll not die today Lord Stark. I've little to gain by killing you now." Arthur then looked to one of the sailors and nodded to Ned's weapon. "Take his sword."
"Why let me live?" Ned asked, baffled.
"I've seen enough Stark blood spilled for one lifetime. If I kill you here there's little chance the North will forget it, and with your wife's place as the daughter of House Tully would pit both the North and the Riverlands firmly against Rhaegar and Lyanna's son in the war to come." Arthur looked to the sea. "I don't think you'll be with us, but it's better to fight the devil you know. Until then I suppose." Arthur motioned to a few of the men who ran over and pulled Ned to his feet.
Ned didn't struggle as the men tossed him from the ship back to the docks, pulling the platform that connected the two aboard. Ned looked onward, his face cold from the loss of blood, yet his blood was still thick with adrenaline so he'd yet to truly feel the pain that was sure to ravage his body in the nearing future. Stumbling to his feet Ned watched as the vessel began to drift as the men worked on pulling open the sail. Looking out, Ned felt his mind drift to one burning question that he yelled out as before the ship would leave his site forever, "What'd she name him?"
Arthur looked back to him with a smirk before calling back. "Jon, Jon Targaryen."
Nodding, Ned watched as the ship sailed away, his hopes to save his nephew from the life Ser Dayne would set him upon had been crushed. Yet, faintly he wondered how it would lead to. Would he one day fight his own blood on a battlefield, defending what he'd won for Robert, or would he never see the boy again? Whatever happened he hoped the boy would survive to seen manhood, not for his sake, but for his sisters.
With that, Lord Stark carried himself back to his horse, and ventured for the Threefold Gate, if he was now feeling the backlash of his fight and was in desperate need of a master.
A/N: Apologies for the long delay, I've at last gotten over my writer's block, and managed to find the time to write this chapter for you all. I was eager to get this one to you guys, so I hope you'll forgive the delay.
Now, I'd liked to answer some questions from reviews, this is something I'll be getting into the habit of. If anyone wants to know why I wrote what I wrote, or has any general questions to ask, I'd love to get back to you in a reply at the end to the next chapter. So without delay...
This is the end of the first Arc in this fic. The Next Arc is nearly done with the storyboard stage, so I'll try to have a chapter up sometime next month when I'm less hammered with class, I plan to board for longer chapters, this arc had shorter lengths due to the makeup of each part. Also, the next Arc will be the last one that takes place before the Events of AGOT.
Q: Why did Eddard and his trio dismount their horses to fight Hightower? They are too smart and seasoned to give up their advantage. They could have cut him down from above. Either that or they should have ridden right past him to rescue his family.
A: Eddard Stark isn't the kind of man to just lop off someone's head like that, I just can't see it in his character. While sure, he could have ridden past Hightower, what would just lead to him being chased down by someone else. It's not like that would have been any more helpful to his cause. You can argue I guess that they should have all just fought on horseback, but I liked it more like this for story telling purposes.
Q: I'm assuming you'll have Aegon (or would it be fAegon in this story?) as well? I wonder whose word will have more weight, Arthur Dayne's or Jon Connington's?
A: Perhaps, perhaps not. If he does, he won't play that major of a role.
Q: I hope it will not end with Arthur fleeing to Essos with Jon without at least Eddard Stark having chance to somehow negotiate with that bullheaded Arthur Dayne and convince him either not to go to Essos with Jon or at least secure better conditions for both little Jon and Arthur Dayne as if he flees to Essos in state in which he is now what kind of home can he provide for Jon, going from city to city ? How is that any way to raise a child? And what of endless days and nights of traveling from place to place and inn to inn?
A: Ser Dayne, as alluded to here, was a member of the Kingsguard and belonged to a royal house in Dorne. Much like the other Targaryen children, Jon has many who would love to see him back in charge in Westeros. I look at it like this, Jon is a baby, Arthur is respected in Dorne, and the Dornish in the books and TV show HATE Robert and the Lannisters for what happened to Elia and her children. It's not unlikely that they would funnel funds to Arthur Dayne to see that Jon makes it back. Just how I see it.
S: I hope this fix doesn't become one with Jon being sent to Essos, I would like for the story to end with Arthur failing to reach the ship and Edward catches them.
R: Jon won't be stuck across the narrow like Dany. No real point in him being there. Essos is more of Dany's playground, I'll be writing POV chapters for her there, but Jon's fate isn't to sit around and play breaker of chains. I've already decided against that.
UPDATE:
The blade that was taken was not ICE, it's just a regular sword. Ned didn't ride south with it. Lots of people have been asking, so I'll clear up the confusion.
Rough edited Version
Edited VR pending within the week
