A/N: You may recall at the end of chapter 8 (Catelyn), Ned contemplates going to King's Landing to investigate Lysa's claims and to see his friend Robert. A few weeks after chapter 10 (Sandor), Ned decides to make the trip. This chapter tells you what he found there!
Ned wrote furiously, determined to commit to paper all he had learned that night. His path lay before him, bleak and dark and bereft of all that he loved, but unfortunately not at all unclear. At this point, there was no other way. He wished he could take a moment and lament the series of events that led him here, but there was no time. These missives must be on their way tonight, for tomorrow would be too late.
King's Landing was a pit of vipers; a cesspool of lies and deception. House Stark had only ever suffered from attempting to engage in its machinations. Ned knew now that he should never have come. Whatever intrigues occurred here meant nothing to the North, and Ned should have remembered that. Lysa and her coded ravens be damned, by the old Gods and the new, he thought furiously, but there was no point cursing his good sister and her paranoia; he had always known that winter was coming.
Ned had arrived at the Red Keep a week or so ago, amid a tense and chaotic atmosphere. The bells were ringing and the crowned stag of Baratheon flew above the Great Sept of Baelor, and though Ned didn't want to believe it, he knew exactly what they meant: the King was dead. His boyhood friend, hero of the Rebellion and one of the fiercest fighters Ned had ever known, dead long before his time, and apparently only a few days before he would have been able to see him. Worst of all, his death came not in battle as he knew Robert would have wished, but in a foolish accident!
The details of the hunting accident were had from Renly, Robert's youngest brother. Robert had always been a bit reckless, but the wanton negligence Renly described seemed so unlike the man Ned knew and loved like a brother. Apparently drinking too much had been the King's main occupation of late, and any warnings to slow down or abstain were met with his bellowing anger or sneering dismissal.
Ned did not recognize the man laid out in state at the Sept of Baelor. That man was hugely fat, with a face red and bloated from too much wine, and half-covered with a wild, graying beard that was long and unkempt. The Robert he knew was a warrior, tall and broad and fierce, feared by men he considered enemies, and loved by all else. What had happened to that man?
After offering condolences to Queen Cersei and her children (which were met only by frosty indifference), Ned was visited by nearly every member of the small council. Each visit went much like the one before it, with polite inquiries as to Ned's purpose in King's Landing. But tonight's visitor was different.
The man came not through the main doors of his chambers, but seemed to materialize out of nowhere; he was attended by no one. He was strangely dressed, wearing livery that Ned didn't recognize and couldn't recall being associated with any great house nor any guild associated with King's Landing or being in service to the Royal family.
After assuring Jory that he meant no harm, the man finally revealed himself to be Lord Varys, master of whisperers and member of Robert's small council. He apologized for the subterfuge of his disguise and his arrival via secret passageways, but insisted it was necessary.
"The Red Keep is full of eyes and ears, my lord," he said, "and unfortunately not all of them are mine."
The deception made Ned uncomfortable, but he couldn't deny that Lord Varys knew his trade. He was indeed full of information. It was obvious the man had no love for the Lannisters, and for that alone Ned decided to trust him. If even only half of what he said was true, Ned didn't have much choice but to follow his advice.
"I regret to welcome you to the city this way, my lord, but you are in grave danger. That you should arrive now, after the tragic passing of His Grace King Robert, is most unfortunate."
Ned had little patience with melodrama and men like Lord Varys who seemed unable to speak plainly. But he couldn't argue with him on this point. Since he set foot inside the city, not a moment had passed that he wished he had never come, that he was still at home in Winterfell with his wife and children.
"Now that Joffrey is king, your safety can no longer be guaranteed. He does not share King Robert's love for you or for your family."
The Lannister presumptuousness, although expected, made Ned suddenly angry. Robert was barely in the ground! "The boy is not king yet. Or has his coronation already happened? Even before his father's funeral?"
Lord Varys smiled a mirthless smile. "Yes, well...the man who truly rules the Seven Kingdoms is Lord Tywin, as I'm sure you know was true even in the Mad King's day. He did so after Jon Arryn's death when Robert couldn't be bothered, and he does so now in the name of his grandson. The lack of coronation means nothing in this, and will mean nothing when it comes to you and where your loyalties lie."
Ned bristled at this; what right had the Lannisters to doubt his loyalty? The Starks had held the North for the Iron Throne for generations without count. Ned had himself fought for Robert's cause, a cause to which Tywin Lannister committed himself only when it seemed assured they would win. If any House was without reproach in that regard, it was his own.
"Lord Varys, there is no reason to doubt the loyalty of House Stark. I fought for Robert's crown, my bannermen died to wrest control of the Iron Throne from the Targaryens and to secure it for Robert and his children. Why should Joffrey or Lord Tywin or anyone doubt my loyalty to Robert? Why would House Stark's loyalty to the Iron Throne change now that Robert has died?"
Lord Varys' unctuous smile made another appearance, and Ned's frustration grew. The theater of court politics had never interested him, and he wondered that Varys couldn't manage to abstain from the performance, even now when it was just the two of them.
"You have been traveling long, my lord, and again I lament the timing of your arrival. King Robert died more than a week ago, and in that short time, his brother Stannis has been sharing some very interesting information with the great houses of Westeros."
Here he handed Ned a parchment, written in Stannis' spindly, slanted hand. It stated in the plainest language possible that Queen Cersei's children were not the trueborn children of King Robert, but bastards born of incest between her and Jaime Lannister, her twin brother. Stannis claimed the Iron Throne for himself, since Robert left no trueborn children to succeed him.
Could Lysa have had the right of it? Did Jon discover this treason and the Lannisters killed him for it? Ned looked up at Lord Varys in shock.
"Is this...is this true? Has anyone else...?"
"I know what you mean to ask, Lord Stark. You're asking if Lord Arryn made similar accusations? Unfortunately he chose not to confide in me...a pity, as I could have helped him...but it would seem that he knew something he shouldn't know...and perhaps told someone he shouldn't have told."
"So he was murdered, then?"
"Oh yes, Lord Stark, most certainly. The tears of Lys, I'd say. I know not why, but I know that was the how."
"They say that poison is a woman's weapon."
"They do say that, my lord."
"Are you saying that the Queen had a hand in the deaths of - "
Lord Varys was quick to cut him off. "I am not saying any such thing, my lord. I know not of what the Queen has or has not done, but I do know that without King Robert alive, you do not have many friends in King's Landing."
It was at that exact moment that Ned knew the dread and foreboding he felt upon entering the city was not for naught; he was in real danger. It was that exact moment he knew he'd never see Winterfell again. He'd never wake up next to Cat again, or see her warm smile or run his hands through her beautiful hair. The realization was sudden and painful, like a stab would to the chest he'd never recover from.
It became clear exactly what he needed to do, and that's when he began writing. Lannister incest was not the only information that needed to be relayed to Winterfell. Varys shared all manner of news and intrigues, including whispers of Targaryen heirs abroad, whispers which he assured Ned were true, but that were dismissed as mere rumors by the small council.
Robb would have to lead the North in the seemingly inevitable conflict, and Ned knew he would need this information. With Lord Varys' help, Jory would return to Winterfell that very night, smuggled on a boat bound for White Harbor. Ned would send letters for Robb and Catelyn along with his greatsword Ice. Would that Valyrian steel could cut through Lannister treachery...but the ancestral sword of House Stark could no longer do Ned any good. Ice belonged to the Lord of Winterfell, and after tomorrow, Robb would have to assume that responsibility in his place.
Jory came in just as Ned finished writing. He gave him strict instructions to speak of his mission only to Lord Manderly upon arrival in White Harbor, and to deliver the rest to the hands of Robb or Catelyn and no one else, or to die trying. Ned's heart constricted, knowing this conversation was the last connection he would have with the North. He knew it was futile to dwell on regrets, but it was impossible not to think on them...he'd never get to see Bran and Rickon as grown men with wives and keeps and children of their own. He'd never get to have conversations with Jon that he had always meant to have. He'd never see his daughters marry, would never know who Arya would be Bonded with.
Thinking of his girls made Ned think of Sansa's bonded mate. Sandor Clegane was well known throughout Westeros as both a fierce warrior and a Lannister lap dog. But Ned took comfort in the fact that no one knew of the effects of the Stark soul bond except those who had witnessed it. Lord Twyin no doubt believed he had a loyal servant within the walls of Winterfell, and there would be no way for him to know how utterly wrong he was. Whatever Sandor's previous loyalties to House Lannister were about, Ned knew that now his only loyalty was to Sansa. He had seen them together, and knew their bond was just as strong as Lyanna's had ever been. Ned knew with painful certainty that there were no limits to the extremes soul bonded mates would go to for each other. The power of the bond was unyielding, and nothing held sway against it – not oaths nor logic nor reason. Ned had no doubt Sandor would do absolutely anything for Sansa, the same way his sister's bonded mate had done the unthinkable for her.
As he sent Jory on his way with a final farewell, Ned recalled the master of whisperer's parting words.
"You will be called to court tomorrow my lord, and asked to swear fealty to Joffrey, and to reaffirm Winterfell's loyalty to the Iron Throne. Lord Tywin plans to make an example of you, in the hopes that other great Houses will be cowed into ignoring Stannis' claims...he and Joffrey both are expecting your defiance."
Who am I to disappoint King Joffrey? Ned thought to himself grimly. I will gladly tell him all he expects to hear of Winterfell's loyalties.