A/N: Thank you all for tuning in on the next chapter of Our's is the Fury. This chapter is a timeskip, as Eddard is captured off page, and a flashback will show what happened when Janos Slynt and the guard turns on him. Renly is also gone, and other things had happened from Odyn's explanations. These will be addressed further in the next few chapters. Today is kind of an experimental chapter with these types of timeskips if they work with the continuity. Honestly this the best time to do it as I am very hungry for war. We will begin the war after Arya's execution POV as thing change very quickly after that. Thank you for your continued support and I'll be coming back at you, Wednesday.
Enjoy!
Sansa
Of all the mistakes in her life, this one seemed to sting the most in her heart. Her selfishness had caused great pain and sorrow to her, and now her father had been captured by those she now saw as an enemy. She had watched as her own father was captured, and betrayed by the city watch, and Lord Baelish. Stafford tried to protect him, but he ended up taking a heavy blow from the back of a pommel from Joffrey's hound. Arya was also gone, and as soon as she realized it, she had practically been taken prisoner in the Landing. This is what you wanted right? Now, you don't have to go back to Winterfell. The sick masochistic voice in her mind told her. To think that she had once thought she loved Joffrey after all that he had done, now. She had guardsmen watching her move now, and she had been forced to write letters back to her family reassuring that everything was alright, even though they were clearly lies. She wondered why Stafford hadn't rode off with Renly when he strode into the throne room, right before the city watch arrested her father. She had been called to attend her 'betrothed', King Joffrey's first court session.
This was the first court session of Joffrey's reign, so Sansa looked about nervously. A line of Lannister house guards stood beneath the western windows, a line of gold cloaked City Watchmen beneath the east. Of smallfolk and commoners, she saw no sign, but under the gallery a cluster of lords great and small milled restlessly. There were no more than twenty, where a hundred had been accustomed to wait upon King Robert.
A herald's voice rang out. "All hail His Grace, Joffrey of the Houses Baratheon and Lannister, the First of his Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, and Lord of the Seven Kingdoms. All hail his lady mother, Cersei of House Lannister, Queen Regent, Light of the West, and Protector of the Realm."
Ser Barristan Selmy, resplendent in white plate, led them in. Ser Arys Oakheart escorted the queen, while Ser Boros Blount walked beside Joffrey, so six of the Kingsguard were now in the hall, all the White Swords save Jaime Lannister alone. In a different time, and in a different place, she would be breathless. She would see Joffrey, as her golden prince, and the one, who could do her no wrong. But now, that was far from reality, and even now she wondered why she had even told the queen her father's intentions. Her images of what Prince Joffrey was were now clouded by his brother, the person who had swept her off her feet from literally out of nowhere. He was her dream, and losing him seemed unthinkable to her right now. Sometimes inside her, she thought Stafford was just some infatuation she had with tall handsome royal princes. But, something else had told her, they actually shared a connection. And even when Joffrey was a king, he could not be more of a man than his brother. If hadn't had said anything, you would never see Stafford again. But was it really worth putting father into this predicament?
"Grand Maester Pycelle, I command you to read my decrees,"
Pycelle pushed himself to his feet. He was clad in a magnificent robe of thick red velvet, with an ermine collar and shiny gold fastenings. From a drooping sleeve, heavy with gilded scrollwork, he drew a parchment, unrolled it, and began to read a long list of names, commanding each in the name of king and council to present themselves and swear their fealty to Joffrey. Failing that, they would be adjudged traitors, their lands and titles forfeit to the throne.
Among the names were Stannis Baratheon, Renly Baratheon, both of Stafford's uncles, who were not here despite being in King Robert's small council. Both Lord Royces and their sons. Ser Loras Tyrell. Lord Mace Tyrell, his brothers, uncles, sons. The red priest, Thoros of Myr. Lord Beric Dondarrion. Lady Lysa Arryn and her son, the little Lord Robert. Lord Hoster Tully, his brother Ser Brynden, his son Ser Edmure. Lord Jason Mallister. Lord Bryce Caron of the Marches. Lord Tytos Blackwood. Lord Walder Frey and his heir Ser Stevron. Lord Karyl Vance. Lord Jonos Bracken. Lady Sheila Whent. Doran Martell, Prince of Dorne, and all his sons. Before Grand Maester Pycelle could say anything, something unexpected happened.
Some gaunt man emerged from the council with the seal of Renly's personal coat emblazoned on his chest. He wanted to make a statement and the statement he did. He had a look on his face like he was about to go through a battle against a dragon, but he pressed on.
"I stand here for Lord Renly Baratheon. And he has told me a response to your decree of fealty," he began. The entire court looked to him, "Lord Renly will not pledge his fealty to you! Lord Renly asserts that you are not the true heir to the crown!" The entire court began to murmur and some even shouted traitor.
"What is this treason! Bring me his head!"
"We can't just execute people in the court, your grace," Ser Barristan told Joffrey, and he still wouldn't calm down. Sansa did not know whether it was foolishness or bravery that drove this messenger to act, but she certainly admired it.
"The true heir is Stafford of House Baratheon, first of his name. And Lord Renly has told me if you do not abdicate to him at once, he will seize the throne for the prince himself!" The mere mention of Stafford's name in this regard made Sansa's heart skip a beat. Ser Barristan looked at him, and Joffrey now looked like he was going to execute everyone in the court.
"I have had enough of this, guards escort this man out," Joffrey signaled. Immediately ten city watchman dragged the man out. He kept on yelling as he went out.
"Mark my words, Lord Renly and the true king will be at your doorstep, and the true king Stafford will SEIZE what is rightfully his!" he yelled.
"Call for Stafford immediately," The queen stated to someone.
"The prince has instructed me to not bother his training session today, your grace," Ser Barristan told her.
"This is a matter of importance, have someone fetch him," Ser Barristan nodded and signaled for a guardsman to get him.
Grand Maester Pycelle rolled up the list, tucked it up his left sleeve, and pulled another parchment from his right. He cleared his throat and resumed. "In the place of the traitor Eddard Stark, it is the wish of His Grace that Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West, take up the office of Hand of the King, to speak with his voice, lead his armies against his enemies, and carry out his royal will. So the king has decreed. The small council consents." Whispers engulfed the room when this was declared.
"It is also the wish of His Grace that his loyal servant, Janos Slynt, Commander of the City Watch of King's Landing, be at once raised to the rank of lord and granted the ancient seat of Harrenhal with all its attendant lands and incomes, and that his sons and grandsons shall hold these honors after him until the end of time," Sansa knew it was clear, this is why the city watch turned on her own father. Sansa glimpsed motion from the corner of her eye as Janos Slynt made his entrance. This time the muttering was louder and angrier. Proud lords whose houses went back thousands of years made way reluctantly for the balding, frog-faced commoner as he marched past.
As Lord Slynt took his place, Grand Maester Pycelle resumed. "Lastly, in these times of treason and turmoil, with our beloved Robert so lately dead, it is the view of the council that the life and safety of King Joffrey is of paramount importance. He looked to the queen.
Cersei stood. "Ser Barristan Selmy stand forth."Ser Barristan had been standing at the foot of the Iron Throne, as still as any statute, but now he went to one knee and bowed his head. "Your Grace, I am yours to command." Before anything else happened someone else stormed into the room. He was in full plate armor, without a helm on. There was a black stag and this time only a stag upon a yellow cloth in front of the plate armor. The plate looked bulky and dated and there was a chain keeping some of his armor together. But the face was of her prince Stafford Baratheon, who wasn't too pleased to be called in.
"What in the seven hells do you want Joffrey?" Stafford viciously stated. The crowd gasped.
"Is that how you address your king? Maybe the watch ought to teach you respect," Janos Slynt threatened Stafford.
"Maybe I can introduce you to the head of my axe, Slynt. Or are you just going to hide behind your men like you did against Lord Stark?"
"You little…" Janos Slynt muttered.
"Order! Stafford we will discuss why you have been called after we deal with the final decree," Cersei stated. "Rise, Ser Barristan," Cersei Lannister said. "You may remove your helm."
"My lady?" Standing, the old knight took off his high white helm, though he did not seem to understand why.
"You have served the realm long and faithfully, good ser, and every man and woman in the Seven Kingdoms owes you thanks. Yet now I fear your service is at an end. It is the
wish of king and council that you lay down your heavy burden."
"My . . . burden? I fear I . . . I do not . . ."
The new-made lord, Janos Slynt, spoke up, his voice heavy and blunt. "Her Grace is trying to tell you that you are relieved as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard."
The tall, white-haired knight seemed to shrink as he stood there, scarcely breathing. "Your Grace," he said at last. "The Kingsguard is a Sworn Brotherhood. Our vows are taken for life. Only death may relieve the Lord Commander of his sacred trust."
"Whose death, Ser Barristan?" The queen's voice was soft as silk, but her words carried the whole length of the hall. "Yours, or your king's?"
"You let my father die," Joffrey said accusingly from atop the Iron Throne. "You're too old to protect anybody."
"What in the seven hells are you spouting you MOTHERFUCKER!" Stafford boomed to the surprise of everyone in the court, "Joffrey, I have had enough of the disrespect you have shown to one of the most legendary knights of the Kingsguard, you have the HONOR of having under your service. He has served the realm since he was a man of thirty-three and fought and survived the trident. I WILL not stand for this." Everyone in the court started to talk loudly after Stafford's sudden interjection. Stafford's bold statements, and even his straight up
"How dare you address your king in such a disgusting manner! I am KING, here. Know your place, Stafford, Ser Barristan is to be removed from the kingsguard, and there's simply nothing your-"
"Fine, you forced my hand. If you want to remove Ser Barristan from the Kingsguard, fight me yourself Joffrey. I will protect his right to keep his position, and even if you nominate a champion to fight in your stead, I swear he won't surv-" Before Stafford could say anything else, Ser Barristan put hand on the plates of Stafford's armor.
"Stand down, Stafford. There is no need for you to risk yourself over me," Ser Barristan told him, "I was chosen for the White Swords in my twenty-third year. It was all I had ever dreamed, from the moment I first took sword in hand. I gave up all claim to my ancestral keep. The girl I was to wed married my cousin in my place, I had no need of land or sons, my life would be lived for the realm. Ser Gerold Hightower himself heard my vows . . . to ward the king with all my strength... to give my blood for his . . . I fought beside the White Bull and Prince Lewyn of Dorne . . .beside Ser Arthur Dayne, the Sword of the Morning. Before I served your father, I helped shield King Aerys, and his father Jaehaerys before him . . . three kings . . ."
"And all of them dead," Littlefinger pointed out.
"Your time is done," Cersei Lannister announced. "Joffrey requires men around him who are young and strong. The council has determined that Ser Jaime Lannister will take your place as the Lord Commander of Sworn Brothers of the White Swords."
"The Kingslayer," Ser Barristan said, his voice hard with contempt. "The false knight who profaned his blade with the blood of the king he had sworn to defend."
"Have a care for your words, ser," the queen warned. "You are speaking of our beloved brother, your king's own blood."
Lord Varys spoke, gentler than the others. "We are not unmindful of your service, good ser. Lord Tywin Lannister has generously agreed to grant you a handsome tract of land north of Lannisport, beside the sea, with gold and men sufficient to build you a stout keep, and servants to see to your every need."
Ser Barristan looked up sharply. "A hall to die in, and men to bury me. I thank you, my lords . . . but I spit upon your pity." He reached up and undid the clasps that held his cloak in place, and the heavy white garment slithered from his shoulders to fall in a heap on the floor. His helmet dropped with a clang. "I am a knight," he told them. He opened the silver fastenings of his breastplate and let that fall as well. "I shall die a knight."
"A naked knight, it would seem," quipped Littlefinger. They all laughed then, Joffrey on his throne, and the lord standing attendance, Janos Slynt and Queen Cersei and Sandor Clegane and even the other men of the Kingsguard, the five who had been his brothers until a moment ago. Surely that must have hurt the most, Sansa thought. Her heart went out to the gallant old man as he stood shamed and red-faced, too angry to speak. Finally, He drew his sword. Sansa heard someone gasp. Ser Boros and Ser Meryn, with a subtle limp, moved forward to confront him, but Ser Barristan froze them in place with a look that dripped contempt. "Have no fear, sers, your king is safe . . . no thanks to you. Even now,I could cut through the five of you as easy as a dagger cuts cheese. If you would serve under the Kingslayer, not a one of you is fit to wear the white." He flung his sword at the foot of the Iron Throne. "Here, boy. Melt it down and add it to the others, if you like. It will do you more good than the swords in the hands of these five. Perhaps Prince Stafford chance to sit on it when his uncle's army takes your throne." And immediately everyone mummering and Joffrey seemed to take great offense to this comment.
"What in the…" Joffrey stated. But before they could do or say anything Stafford and Ser Barristan walked out, "Come back here, I am not done with you two. Traitors the both of them! Guards seize the two of them,"
"You earn the right to speak to me when you gain honor! I am never going before any council or court as long as you stay king," Stafford replied venomously as Ser Barristan and him continued to storm out. Not even the guards seemed brave enough to stand between the two men, clearly enraged in what had happened before their very eyes.
"He talks of honor like he knows what it is, my brother is the most dishonorable person in the entire seven kingdoms. First he does the unthinkable during the tournament, next he somehow convinces his uncle Renly to openly declare treason for him, and now this, disregarding my decrees and openly stating he will not support me as the king,"
"Very true, your grace," Janos Slynt stated to the approval of many of the crowd. Sansa wanted to say something back to Joffrey, but her father's life seemed to be at stake, so she decided against it. Stafford wasn't there for Joffrey's words, nor did he probably want to be. Sansa knew Joffrey was not the same person she had dreamed about when they first met at Winterfell, and her first impression of the what she thought was a gallant prince. However, she still had a belief that he would show her father mercy, if she would play along with his game. She hated being treated like this, but she knew she had to do what she didn't want to do, in order to atone for what seemed like a mistake to sell her own father out to the queen.
"They could be making plots with my uncles. I want them both seized and questioned." No one moved. Joffrey raised his voice. "I said, I want him and the old knight seized!"
Janos Slynt rose from the council table. "My gold cloaks will see to it, Your Grace."
"Not so fast, Stafford and Ser Barristan with the current mood they are in, will not just turn themselves in when seized, your grace. They would likely put up a fight, and with the amount of experience and influence the old knight has, be out of the Landing and to Storm's End within a fortnight if we were to take action against them now," Lord Varys told him.
"So what? Then send some of the White cloaks to get them. Stafford and Barristan aren't going to be able to stand against two members of the kingsguard!" Littlefinger and Varys turned to each other. With the amount of skill Stafford and Ser Barristan had in combat as a group, Sansa doubted whether or not the entire Kingsguard could stand against them. Especially with the 'extra' support Renly left Stafford with. He had almost twenty five guardsman, under his personal command. And Stafford knew how to fight and lead a group.
"Your dear uncle Renly left your brother with a detachment of twenty five shields, they under Stafford's direct jurisdiction, and if you attacked or tried to capture him now, you risk Stafford and Barristan an opportunity to escape by force. IF you are really worried that they are planning rebellion, then capture them when they least expect it," Lord Varys suggested.
"Fine, as long as he is seized, it does not matter when it happens it only matters how," Joffrey stated. I might have a chance to redeem myself in his eyes. Just you wait your grace, Stafford will be gone and safe before you even have a chance to seize him.
"Your Grace," Littlefinger reminded the king. "If we might resume, the seven are now six. We find ourselves in need of a new sword for your Kingsguard." Joffrey smiled. "Tell them, Mother."
"The king and council have determined that no man in the Seven Kingdoms is more fit to guard and protect His Grace than his sworn shield, Sandor Clegane." "How do you like that, dog?" King Joffrey asked.
The Hound's scarred face was hard to read. He took a long moment to consider. "Why not? I have no lands nor wife to forsake, and who'd care if I did?" The burned side of his mouth twisted. "But I warn you, I'll say no knight's vows."
"The Sworn Brothers of this Kingsguard have always been knights," Ser Boros said firmly.
"Until now," the Hound said in his deep rasp, and Ser Boros fell silent.
The herald's voice boomed out. "If any man in this hall has other matters to set before His Grace, let him speak now or go forth and hold his silence." Sansa quailed. Now, she told herself, I must do it now. Gods give me courage. She took one step, then another. Lords and knights stepped aside silently to let her pass, and she felt the weight of their eyes on her. I must be as strong as my lady mother.
"Your Grace," she called out in a soft, tremulous voice. Joffrey got a good look at her from on top of the throne. He smiled unexpectedly.
"The Lady Sansa, of House Stark," the herald cried. She stopped under the throne, at the spot where Ser Barristan's white cloak lay puddled on the floor beside his helm and breastplate.
"Do you have some business for king and council, Sansa?" the queen asked from the council table. "I do." She knelt on the cloak, so as not to spoil her gown, and looked up at her prince on his fearsome black throne. "As it please Your Grace, I ask mercy for my father, Lord Eddard Stark, who was the Hand of the King." She had practiced the words a hundred times.
The queen sighed. "Sansa, you disappoint me. What did I tell you about traitor's blood?"
"And why in the seven hells should I listen to you? I watched you betray my trust thousands of times, with my own brother no less," If you had turned out to be the man I thought you would be, maybe Stafford would have never come into my life.
"Do you deny your father's crime?" Lord Baelish asked.
"No, my lords." Sansa knew better than that. "I know he must be punished. All I ask is mercy. I know my lord father must regret what he did. He was King Robert's friend and he loved him, you all know he loved him. He never wanted to be Hand until the king asked him. They must have lied to him. Lord Renly or Lord Stannis or . . . or somebody, they must have lied, otherwise . . ." She hated having to blame someone, she knew Stafford had probably still associated with. Come to think of it, Stafford had never talked to Renly nor did he spread any type of rumors against Joffrey.
King Joffrey leaned forward, hands grasping the arms of the throne. Broken sword points fanned out between his fingers. "He said I wasn't the king. Why did he say that?" I wish you weren't King, maybe Stafford or seven hells, even Renly or Stannis would do better than you. If she had never met Stafford, or had never spoke to her she would still be blinded by the false image she had of Joffrey. However, through sheer coincidence, she had been free from the facade and knew at least some of the truth. If only she listen to her father, and left Winterfell. But then she would probably never see, Stafford again, and that would hurt her more than anything she could think of besides…she didn't want to think about the other thing that would make her feel worse.
"His leg was broken," Sansa replied eagerly. "It hurt ever so much, Maester Pycelle was giving him milk of the poppy, and they say that milk of the poppy fills your head with clouds. Otherwise he would never have said it."
Varys said, "A child's-faith . . . such sweet innocence . ..and yet, they say wisdom oft comes from the mouths of babes."
Joffrey rocked restlessly on the throne. "Mother?"
Cersei Lannister considered Sansa thoughtfully. "If Lord Eddard were to confess his crime," she said at last, "we would know he had repented his folly."
"Do you have any more to say?" he asked her.
"If you had any care for me whatsoever, even if I had wronged you with my actions in the past, just do me this kindness. Please, as your betrothed, even with all the mistakes I have done against you," Sansa managed to say. Even she got convinced by her reasoning. She hated her reasons, and never wanted to say this ever again.
"Your sweet words have moved me," he said, nodding, as if to say all would be well. "I shall do as you ask . . . but first your father has to confess. He has to confess and say that I'm the king, or there will be no mercy for him. He will confess before the Great Sept of Baelor, tomorrow." She might have just saved her father with her words, that she didn't fully want to say.
"He will," She said, "I know he will,"