Eddard stood at the ready, prepared to welcome his king. Winter sat obediently behind his left shoulder. Prophet and his crew waited in the crowd of smallfolk for the moment King Robert asked to meet them. None of the crew seemed nervous or agitated. But then, what did they have to worry about? If Robert banished them from Westeros, they'd just try again somewhere else in the world.
Finally, after almost 300 bannermen had filled the yard, the royal party reached them. Ned hardly recognized the man wearing a crown until he heard him speak. "Seven hells, Ned! Where'd you find a wolf that big and well-trained?"
"Your Grace," Ned knelt, along with his family and the smallfolk. The Visitors didn't kneel or bow, but then Robert wasn't their king. "Winterfell is yours."
Robert walked up to him, lifted him to his feet, and embraced him like a brother. Robert had, no two ways about it, let himself go. He'd gained over a hundred pounds since Ned had last seen him during the Greyjoy Rebellion, and he'd grown out a beard. "Enough with the 'your Grace's and answer the damn question, Ned."
"Winter was a gift from the Visitors. He's not just a trained direwolf, he's actually as smart as you or I. And he can talk," Ned added matter-of-factly.
"Ah, yes, these people who've come from the sky. Your honor guard told us the story, but I hardly believed it. But you look me in the eye, Ned, and tell me it's true, I won't doubt you," Robert boomed in his usual boisterous manner.
"It's true. Winterfell has been host to a party from another world," Ned said in utmost seriousness.
Robert turned to Winter. "Well? Say something!"
"Something," Winter said dryly.
Robert nearly jumped out of his boots. "Well, I'll be damned! A talking direwolf." Shaking his head, Robert moved past Ned to Cat. "Cat! Been too long!" He kissed her on the cheek and grinned. Robert went on to greet all five of Ned's children as the Queen and Robert's own children descended from a massive wheelhouse. Ned kissed his queen's hand and worried idly he'd have cut on his lip; cold, knife-sharp anger radiated off the woman, most of it aimed at her husband but some at her surroundings. Ned didn't need a mind-link with Cersei to know she hated the North, it was clear in her eyes.
"Come, Ned. I wish to pay my respects," Robert called as he finished greeting little Rickon.
"Is that really necessary right this moment? We just got here," Cersei Lannister protested.
"Ned!" Robert summoned.
Ned obeyed his king. "Fetch us a lamp. Winter, stay with Cat," he ordered. A servant gave him an LED lamp, which Ned activated with the press of a button once he and Rob reached the crypts.
"Fuck me running! Bottled light!" Robert gaped.
"A handy device to replace torches. It charges when placed in the sunlight and can stay on for hours," Ned explained to his foster brother.
"How much did they cost?" Robert asked.
"Nothing. The Visitors didn't come to trade. There's nothing we could give them that they don't already have. They have repeatedly stated their only desire is to observe us living life and to help us with freely offered examples of their technology," Ned said as he walked towards his sister's grave.
"They just gave you this, for free? No charge, no favors?" Robert asked dubiously.
Ned, trusting Rob like no other, spoke his mind. "I get the impression that they're so far ahead of us in terms of technology that what they've gifted us is the equivalent of baubles you'd give to entertain a child. Rob, they sailed between the stars to get here. Bottling light is as simple and common to them as lighting a torch is for us."
Robert didn't seem disturbed, merely excited. "Well, I'd love to meet them. And the women are unmarried, yes?"
Ned hid a frown. "Yes, they're all unmarried. Ignoring the fact that you are, Rob, I don't see any of them falling to your advances. They're not the same as we are, however alike we look. They might view bedding one of us as akin to you bedding your horse." Ned failed to mention how Solomon, the Grey Man, was a regular at the brothel in Wintertown.
"Bah! I'll see about that. Now, where is she? I always get lost down here," Robert complained.
Ned stopped, having reached the graves of his father, brother, and sister. "Here we are."
Robert looked at Lyanna's stone face with pained longing. "Why'd you put her down here, Ned? She should be somewhere she can see the sky, with flowers all around her."
"She was a Stark. This is where she belongs," Ned said firmly.
"I kill him every night in my dreams," Robert confessed.
Ned had nothing to say to that.
"I was meant to marry her, we could have been brothers in truth!" Robert exclaimed. "Well, it's not too late. I have a son, you have a daughter. We'll join our houses!" Robert grinned and clapped Ned on the shoulder. Then he got a serious expression. Ned braced himself for what was to come. "Eddard Stark. I would name you Hand of the King."
Ned went to his knee. "I am not worthy of the honor, your Grace."
"Fuck 'worthy'. I want you to run my kingdom while I eat, drink and whore my way to an early grave," Robert said jovially but with expectation behind his words. "I'll give you till sundown tomorrow to think it over. Now take me to see these Visitors!"
Ned, in a daze, led Robert out of the crypts and to his solar. The whole of Prophet's crew were waiting still as statues by the door. Ned let his king and his guests into his private work space. As was proper, Ned offered Robert his seat and stood to the side as Robert assessed the aliens.
"So, what are you all named? The stories about you muddled things up, I'm sure," Robert asked genially.
"I am Prophet, the Captain. Set and Brunhild work Security. Solomon and Minerva work Interpersonal Relations. Vivaan and Harriett work Medical. And Lao Zi and Inari work Science and Technology," Prophet gestured to each couple of his crew.
"And what exactly is it you want from me as king?' Robert asked.
"Your blessing to walk on your lands and gift our technology to those who ask. Nothing more," Prophet said solemnly.
"Well, that sounds simple enough! I'll give you my blessing, even put it in writing. Ned! Get me a roll of parchment and a quill."
Ned handed the parchment and a silver stylus. "Another gift. The ink is inside the pen. Just write, no ink well needed."
Robert's eyes lit up like a little boy's at the gadget. He quickly wrote down "I, Robert Baratheon, and so on… give permission to the Visitors to go anywhere in the Seven Kingdoms and grant them full rights to distribute their technology." Robert got some hot wax and pressed his seal into the parchment. "There! That should be good enough, right?"
Prophet accepted the rolled up parchment with care. "You have my thanks, King Robert, on behalf of my crew. Now, if this audience is over, we have many questions to ask your retinue. But Harriett will stay behind to discuss your ailing health." With that, eight Visitors left the solar, leaving the Green Woman.
"Ailing health? Am I sick and don't know it?' Robert asked bewildered.
"You said you wanted to, quote, 'eat, drink, and whore' yourself to an early grave. Well, you're well on your way. Between your morbid obesity and your alcohol consumption, it's a race to see whether it's your liver or your heart that kills you. If you continue your current behaviors, I give you less than ten years before your demise. And that's if you didn't catch a sexually-transmitted disease from a prostitute," Harriet said clinically.
Robert frowned. "I only fuck clean girls. And are you saying I have to stop or I'll die?"
Harriett pulled out an injector like the ones that gave Ned and his family the mind-link. "In this injector, there is a swarm of nanobots. Imagine little workers that can build stuff up or break it down. If you consent to let me inject you, I can restore you to peak fitness. Your fat gone, you organs restored, the works. Do I have your consent, King Robert?"
Ned eyed his king as the man gawped. "You stick that in me and my fat will disappear? Come and do it already!"
Harriett nodded, tilted Robert's head back, and injected the nanobot solution into the jugular vein. "Done. The full effects can take a few minutes, an hour tops. I hope you packed tighter clothing, because you won't fit your old ones anymore," Harriett said with a cheerful smile
"If this works, I'll give you anything you want, Harriett. Just ask and it's yours," Robert said gratefully.
"There's nothing you have that I want. But I appreciate the sentiment. Good day."
Ned and Robert watched incredulously as Robert's middle visibly shrank until he was falling out of his pants. Ned took Robert to the king's suite and the king ripped off his shirt to marvel at his body. He now looked how Ned remembered him, muscled like a maiden's fantasy.
"Seven hells… seven hells and damnation… I'm back," Robert breathed out.
Ned left briefly to go to his own chambers to retrieve the bodysuit the Visitors had gifted him. "This should fit, your Grace, until your old clothes can be adjusted to your new shape."
"Fuck, Ned! I feel better than when we were fighting in the war! 15 years of damage undone!" Robert crowed.
"And you'll lose it all over again if you don't take care of yourself," Ned pointed out.
"Well, then I'll just have Harriett or one of the Visitors inject me again! Oh, Ned, I'm going to abuse this new body so hard!" Robert shouted.
Ned sighed. Robert and his appetites. A dark corner of his mind wondered if Harriett had done the right thing in 'curing' the king.
Ned left Robert to pose in the mirror. He wandered the grounds, until he found himself on a wall, looking off into the distance.
"Penny for your thoughts?" Prophet asked, appearing at his side.
"I'm just wondering… if these 'nanobots' can cure and restore, surely it follows that they can enhance, yes?" Ned said calmly.
"Yes, but we did not enhance King Robert. We restored him merely to his natural best," Prophet said back.
"What I'm really asking is, if nanobots are so simple you don't feel threatened offering them to us… how advanced are you and your crew? Physically, mentally?" Ned mused.
"We are smarter and stronger than you, this is true. And nanobots are indeed an old invention on our world. My crew and I are enhanced a different way."
"How?" Ned asked, curious but at the same time afraid of the answer.
"Are you sure you want to know?' Prophet asked gently.
"Yes, I am," Ned said, firming his resolve.
"Around 50 of our years ago, my people discovered the means to transfer a soul to another body. All memories, the full personality intact. At first, it was used only to save the dying and terminally ill. It wasn't long though before someone had the idea to build a better body than the one they were born into and transfer into it. And so our people became two races: the humans, who stayed in the body they were born in; and the cyborgs, who transferred their soul into smarter, stronger, more durable bodies." Prophet spoke in a steady cadence not unlike a teacher giving a lesson in the classroom.
"And all of your crew are cyborgs?" Ned asked astutely.
"My crew were all born flesh and blood like you, Ned. They made the informed decision to become metal and clockwork. A human soul in a mechanical body, one several times more capable than any human could hope to achieve."
"What about you, Prophet? How were you born?" Ned asked.
Prophet sighed. "You know the thinking machine on our ship? I am it, or at least a puppet for it. As long as I stay in range of the ship, I can continue to use this form to interact with my crew and you aliens of Westeros and the Known World."
Ned eyed Prophet. "So you didn't even start human. You were a machine from the moment you were born."
"Yes, I did not start out organic. That doesn't mean I wasn't human. I had a mind built and shaped by humans. I felt human emotion. I felt love for my creators as you loved your parents. If there's one thing my people have learned, it's that it's not what you're made of but what you make of it."
Ned nodded, thinking over what the Visitor said. "If anyone on this world asked to become a cyborg, would you do it?"
"They would have to prove they understand the full scope of what they were asking. But yes, we would. But we rarely tell anyone about cyborgs when we visit a new world. I told you because I like you, Ned. You're a man of rare honor and integrity."
"Thank you for your kind words. Now, I believe I should find my wife before the feast and tell her what Robert's gotten up to."
They parted ways. Hours later, the feast began. The Visitors had agreed to sit with the smallfolk, freeing up room at the head table for the Stark and Baratheon and Lannister families. The king's new appearance caused quite a stir, especially as he was dressed only in the Visitors' skin-tight bodysuit. Once the procession of nobles had made it to the high table, Ned ordered the food be brought in. The feast went on for over an hour. Robert predictably if regrettably made a fool of himself. He got blind drunk on summerwine and grabbed as many handfuls of flesh from the serving wenches as he could, al in full view of the queen.
"I hear we might share a grandchild someday," Ned heard Cersei say to Cat.
"I hear the same," Ned's wife replied.
"Sana will do well in the South. She's wasted up here," the queen said, casually insulting the whole North. Ned prayed to the old gods he'd make it through this feast.
He retreated with Cat to their chambers, relayed the events of the day, and then Ned tried to lose himself in Cat, her kisses, her body. When they were done, Ned walked naked to the window to open it and let in the cold night air.
"I'll tell him no," Ned said decisively.
"You can't. Not without insulting him after he came all the way here. Ned, Sansa could be Queen! How can you deny this opportunity?" his Southron wife demanded.
Ned and Cat argued back and forth until there was a knock on the door. Ned got dressed and Cat slipped under the covers. Maester Luwin was revealed on the other side of the door. "I apologize for the late hour but someone left a secret message in my office for Lady Stark."
Cat sat up and took the letter. "It's from Lysa. It's in a code we made as children…" Cat's face paled. Heedless of her nudity, she left the bed and threw the letter into the fire. "Lysa says that Jon Arryn's death wasn't a disease. That he was killed by House Lannister."
Ned gaped. Overwhelmed, he said the first name that came to mind. "Prophet! We need you. Cat, get dressed."
By the time Cat had slipped into a shift, there was another knock at the door. Ned let the lead Visitor in. "How may I help?" the albino asked.
"Was Jon Arryn's death natural?" Ned asked forthright.
"No," Prophet said simply, confirming Ned's worst fears.
Ned closed his eyes, rubbing his temples. "How did he die?"
"White arsenic, known colloquially as Tears of Lys. It was slow and painful," Prophet supplied.
Ned braced himself. "Who killed him and why?"
Prophet looked Ned dead in the eye. "Are you sure you want to know? You've no idea how large this conspiracy is, how powerful the enemies you'll make just by knowing the truth. If I tell you, I'm putting you in danger. I ask again, are you sure you want to know?"
"Yes," Ned said sternly.
"The poisoner was Lysa Arryn, who did it on order of Petyr Baelish, also known as Littlefinger. Baelish hopes to start a war between House Stark and House Lannister so that he can seize more power in the chaos."
"No!" Cat cried. "They, they wouldn't. Lysa… Petyr…"
"I never lie, Cat. I refuse to answer, I mislead, but I never lie," Prophet told her gently.
Ned's mind raced. "What reason would I have to declare war on House Lannister, other than this false claim that they killed Jon Arryn?"
"Jon Arryn was investigating something. A secret of the Lannisters. Baelish timed the poisoning to make everyone who knew assume the Lannisters did it after Jon found out," Prophet answered.
"What secret?" Ned asked. "And yes, I'm sure I want to know."
"None of Cersei's three children were fathered by Robert Baratheon. They are the product of incest with Jaime Lannister."
Ned sat down on the bed. He felt dizzy. "They… they're brother and sister. How could they?"
"I cannot speak to their mental states. But DNA doesn't lie. Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen are not Baratheon. They're doubly Lannister. Since none of Robert's bastard children are legitimized, the current true heir to the throne is Stannis Baratheon," Prophet stated. "We calculated a high probability of conflict once Robert dies between those loyal to the Lannisters and those loyal to Stannis. It could escalate into war."
"What a nightmare," Ned breathed out. "Jon Arryn poisoned by his wife, Littlefinger scheming, the queen and the kingslayer engaged in incest."
"Now you have to accept Robert's offer. You can't leave him to deal with all this alone!" Cat said emphatically.
Ned nodded. "Prophet, I know I'm asking a lot. But can you come to King's Landing with me? You can help me get proof to convince Robert more than your word."
"As it happens, my crew and I were leaving Winterfell anyway. Half of us, including myself, will go for King's Landing. The other half will go north to the Wall."
Ned furrowed his brows. "Why visit the Wall?"
"To observe and interact with the Night's Watch, the wildlings, and the White Walkers," Prophet answered.
Ned, Cat, and Maester Luwin paled. "The White Walkers don't exist," Ned insisted faintly.
"I'm afraid they do, Ned. And they're gathering an army of undead large enough to wipe out the Seven Kingdoms and the rest of the world along with them. In the event they move to render you extinct, we shall intervene. But until then, they are merely another race of this world for us to study," Prophet said calmly.
Ned very much wanted to go to sleep and wake up having forgotten this whole conversation. "Very… very well. You'll come with us in the king's party. Thank you for you help tonight. Good night."
Prophet bowed and left the room, followed swiftly by Maester Luwin.
"White Walkers. We're worrying about politics while White Walkers are readying for war. Gods old and new save us," Ned breathed out, feeling helpless.
"We'll deal with all that when the time comes. Now, let's rest," Cat said, stroking his back.
Ned took Cat in his arms and fell into a troubled sleep.