"A man could not always be where he belonged, though. Resigned, Eddard Stark put his boots into his horse and set off after the king."
- A Game of Thrones, Eddard II
When Ned awoke, the waves were crashing outside and they sang the harshest hymn.
It was likely just remnants of the night's festivities echoing through his mind, he reasoned, sitting up slowly in his bed. The guest chambers at Storm's End that Robert had given him were spacious and well appointed. But they did not provide the comfort he sought. All he wanted was to return to Winterfell. To throw his arms around Benjen, to see the red tears of their heart tree.
His eyes shut tightly.
To hear father's voice.
His fingers pushed back through his hair, pulling at the strands. More than anything, Ned wanted to spin back in time and find a way for life to make sense again.
As his body dropped back down to the bed, his head hit the pillow with a thud. Wincing, he silently cursed himself for letting Robert sway him last night. Though it wasn't his friend alone that pushed Ned to drink so much. No, it had been the guilt as well, and dwelling in those depths somehow felt far easier than letting himself truly feel the loss of his father. So he chose guilt; that need to somehow make amends to Robert for what had happened with Lyanna. And if ale helped to remedy this all in the slightest, so be it.
But Ned wasn't sure how - or even if - amends could truly be made.
They'd ridden together to Storm's End, even though Ned felt he should stay with Brandon and Lyanna, at least until his brother had finished that which was needed. But Brandon had insisted he leave, that he did not want them all there together.
"Leave now before the...king changes his mind, Ned," Brandon had commanded him. And it was then that Ned could see in Brandon's eyes that the terror of being held prisoner had imprinted itself upon his brother terribly - and would not leave him quickly, if ever.
And so Ned and Robert left the Red Keep in the dead of night before anyone was the wiser. Perhaps there was no need to be so cautious, yet somehow it felt necessary. Though for he and his friend's sake or Rhaegar's…
He did not know.
Since that meeting with Lyanna, with everyone, Robert had swung between pretending it had not happened...to raging about Rhaegar...to occasionally eyeing Ned as though he was the person who had betrayed their friendship somehow.
When they reached Storm's End, they were greeted by Robert's two younger brothers and the maester who seemed to watch over them while their grandmother was away. For all the blood they shared, Ned felt like Robert treated him more like a brother than his own. Robert barely spent any time with Stannis and young Renly before he sought ways to distract himself.
And so perhaps it was inevitable that a large feast would be held soon enough. A storm had brewed outside all the while, sending in wafts of air that tasted of tangy salt water. There was nothing to celebrate, of course, but somehow Robert could make any evening a celebration - and make sure Ned's mug never emptied.
Robert distracted himself with each serving girl that passed by. His primary method though was drowning his anger, burying it deeper and deeper. Though it would come back eventually of course.
Robert's anger was not a dead body but a living creature.
Ned was shaken from his thoughts when Robert threw back the contents of his mug and tossed it into the air with a roaring laugh. It was punctuated by the mug shattering spectacularly, pieces falling and clattering around him. Ned could only shake his head and smile all at once. Occasionally the parts of the Robert he knew and loved would resurface - the easy charm, strength and happiness - a reminder of what he had wanted and hoped Lyanna would see as well.
He wondered why he and his sister saw everything so differently.
Taking a long sip of the ale, when he lowered his mug, Ned found Robert eyeing him with an expression he could not place - or perhaps did not want to. Instead he simply raised his eyebrows in question at the Lord of Storm's End.
After a moment of silence between them, Robert finally spoke. "You did not know?"
Ned stared back at him and made to speak -
'Robert will never keep to one bed.'
He winced as his sister's voice echoed in his mind briefly, and Ned bit back a curse. "No," he pleaded, though somehow that one short word felt difficult to speak. He'd lost count how many times his friend had asked him this. "I speak truly, Robert. I did not know." Though perhaps, after all, I am not surprised.
Robert's brow furrowed in pain. "We would have been family, Ned. How could she do this?" He had a new mug now, filled to the brim, and his hand tightened around it. "Why?"
"I cannot answer that, Robert. But at least for Rhaegar's actions, your grandmother and Brandon will find recompense, I am sure."
"Recompense," Robert scoffed so harshly, Ned wondered that his friend's throat did not bleed from speaking. "So they said. So they may try."
Ned looked at him, trying to find the clear blue eyes he so often admired. Instead the gaze that met the northerner was a muddled storm, shifting and searching.
Robert stared back at him for what felt like hours, until he finally spoke. "Your eyes," he muttered. "They're the same as hers."
If only they were. "We all have grey eyes, Robert." Well, Benjen's are a bit more blue, he'd thought to himself wistfully. He was about to rise when he saw Robert's hand move up slowly before pausing in the air, nearly hesitant. They would have been family, bound by blood; and now they were bound by a broken promise.
After a moment, Robert smiled and brought his hand to the back of his neck, buried beneath dark black hair. And then a casual laugh had tumbled from him. It felt bitter when the breath of it landed on Ned's skin.
"I suppose you'll tell me to find new eyes to search for, aye, Ned?"
"Would you listen to me if I did?"
Then the laughter felt a bit more true now, and then his gaze shifted towards the other side of the room. "I see a fine pair," he said and the blue seemed to come back for a moment, even if it was a bit sharper. Ned followed his friend's eyes and saw a serving girl pouring ale for Lord Estermont. An uncle, he remembered - or a great-uncle. He was not sure. Robert downed the contents of the mug before him as he stood with purpose. "She'll do for the night," he told Ned, tossing his mug away once more and making his way across the room.
Ned had wanted to leave then, but somehow Robert found a way to make him stay, even as he groped the serving girl, but eventually leaving with her. He never knew if he should judge his friend for such actions, nor was it something he wanted to dwell on. By the time he tumbled back to his quarters and into the bed, he thought - hoped - perhaps that the light in his friend's eyes and his returned laughter might mean he was moving forward to forgiveness.
The young northerner only realized how much he had to drink when he awoke the next morning. And now in the piercing light of day, he felt the ale a bit too keenly. He attempted to rise once more and nearly fell back down. His head pounded beneath his hands as he tried to massage away the pain that ale and wine had brought. Eventually he readied for the day and made his way through the keep to break his fast. As he approached the hall, he heard a voice that immediately made his back straighten.
"Where is Robert? Has he not awoken yet?"
Ned slowed his steps, hoping that he could delay his entry - or perhaps back away all together. And then the creaky wood beneath him betrayed him.
Violet eyes and silver-grey hair greeted him, somehow far harsher than the morning's light. "Ah, Lord Eddard." Rhaelle Baratheon looked bright and awake - and hungry, though perhaps not for food. Stannis and Renly were already inside eating, the former eyeing Ned cooly. The northerner's attention focused on the figure of authority in front of him, of course.
"My l- princess," Ned said in greeting, stumbling slightly for he always seemed to not quite know what to call Robert's grandmother.
Sensing his obvious nerves, Rhaelle smiled. Because of course.
"How was your journey home?" Ned managed to ask.
"Fine, uneventful. Just as I would wish." He wondered if she did everything with the efficiency by which she employed her words. "Now, will someone kindly tell me where my eldest grandson is?" she asked in exasperation before turning to look at Stannis, her gaze softening slightly. "And where is Cressen, my dear? It is not like him to not greet me upon returning here."
Before Stannis could attempt to answer, her query was solved when a voice arrived, booming through the walls of the keep.
"Why would they refuse?" Robert's voice echoed, angry and furious and bellowing like thunder.
"Well," Rhaelle sighed. "I suppose I should be thankful to receive an answer, however it was delivered." Then with a swish of her gown, she turned and began to march in the direction of her grandson's voice. But then surprisingly she stopped her steadfast march and turned slowly, looking at Ned. Her eyes were appraising him, but for what - he did not know. "Lord Eddard. Join me, if you please."
Both Ned's stomach and his mind greatly desired to say no. But he knew that was not an option. "Of- of course, princess." He walked to her with brisk steps before offering her his arm. As she took it and they began walking, Ned heard Renly ask Stannis in surprise, "Robert is awake? I want to see him!" And then a smattering of footsteps and Stannis calling after his younger brother followed - until Ned found himself walking with both the princess and the youngest Baratheon.
"Grandmama, I must tell you about what I have learned with Maester Cressen," the young boy urged her excitedly, tugging on the skirt of her gown as the trio walked towards the origin of Robert's bellowing.
"Of course, my dear. In due time," she told him with an easy smile. "I just need to speak with your brother first, and then I will hear all about it. How does that sound?"
"Yes! Yes, please! I have so much to tell you, you will not believe all the things I have learned since you were away!"
Ned realized it had been a long time since he experienced such childish enthusiasm, and it dawned on him how much he had missed Lyanna and Benjen. But before he could wallow too much in such painful lack of nostalgia, they reached...the library.
This was most certainly not where Ned expected to arrive on a path meant to find Robert Baratheon.
He pushed open the doors and stepped aside to allow his companions to enter first before he followed.
Robert's head rose quickly, and Ned observed a bundle of papers and large books on the desk in front of him. "Grandmother?" Lord Baratheon asked quizzically. "I did not expect you back so soon."
"Robert," she greeted him crisply, "at some point, I will begin to take offense that you are always surprised by my appearance and not terribly and utterly enthused by it." Her grandson had the good sense to look slightly sheepish in that moment, a look Ned was not used to seeing on him. Then Rhaelle directed her attentions to the maester who was standing by Robert. "Cressen, what are you two doing here? At this hour? And again I shall repeat - here ?"
The man's eyes went wide, flitting rapidly between his lord and the lady before him. "I...I..that is, his lordship…" An aggrieved sigh from Rhaelle seemed to wake him slightly from his stupor. Slightly. "I was just explaining a bit of history, you see… "
"Oh? And what is this fascinating history that has led the two of you here on this fine morning?"
The maester cleared his throat. "Of the...the actions Lord Lyonel Baratheon took…" Then Cressen looked to Robert before continuing, now much more quietly, "after Prince Duncan broke his betrothal."
"There. You see, grandmother. I am doing as you've wanted," Robert said with all seriousness and pride. "Embracing my family history."
First there was nothing but silence. Then Rhaelle leaned her head backwards slowly as she let out a deep and reverberating groan - or perhaps growl would be a more appropriate description. Yes, a growl was more accurate.
"By the gods…" And then she began to pace, shaking her head and muttering, "he's mad. He's absolutely mad. Looks every bit a Baratheon but of course, he'll get this particular part of my blood."
Hearing her mutterings, Robert let out a disgruntled squawk. "I've not gone mad! I am doing what is within my rights! What is right!"
She stopped her pacing then and glared at him. "Need I remind you that you are here because that little rebellion failed? I was what it took to resolve all that mess - not to mention a trial by combat. Is that what you are aching for? A chance to beat another man to a pulp? To prove you are a man? Hmm?" She threw her hands up in the air, though in exhaustion and certainly not defeat. "You should be grateful your great-grandfather failed in his rebellion - no matter how noble his pursuit may have been."
"I would raise more houses than he did before!"
"And if you spent more time here, you would know that we do not have the people to ever win, Robert!"
"Do you believe I should just simper and bow and let that silver twat get away with what he has done?" he hissed.
"No!" Rhaelle yelled back, slamming her cane against the floor for emphasis. "Which is why I was the one to sit through a meeting with that absurd farce of a king and his lickspittle advisors to create some semblance of a deal that leads to neither war nor shame on our part! That is what I did for you! And our people, if you would only be willing to see it!" With that she took a seat in a large chair, exhaling a deep and weary breath as she closed her eyes. "Cressen, if you would be so kind, might you be able to pour me a glass of wine from over there? Perhaps it is too early here, but it is late enough elsewhere, I'm sure."
As the maester made his way to oblige her, Robert took a seat as the tension between him and his grandmother seemed to abate just slightly. Ned stood away from them, unsure how or why he was still there. Meanwhile Renly watched the whole situation in fascination.
As Cressen handed her a glass of wine, Robert finally spoke. "Well, tell me of this wondrous deal that the dragonpiss of a king deigned to give us."
"Nothing was given, I took and fought for it," she corrected him. "And I've brought the paperwork, you may read through it all. I am not your teacher that I must read everything aloud to you."
The stormlord's jaw tightened, but there was nothing he could truly say to that - not least of all because it was his grandmother saying it.
"But I will tell you this - first, it is to our advantage. And second," Rhaelle continued, her voice clearly taking a slower track now, "you will marry. And it shall not be to Lord Eddard's sister." Robert stood from his chair so quickly, the furniture toppled over - but she continued nonetheless. "We will find a suitable lady together, and you shall marry. And that will be that."
"That will not be that!"
"The girl does not want you, Robert! Why would you force your attentions upon someone who clearly does not desire them? Pull yourself together, boy!"
It was at the moment that Ned greatly wanted to ask the lady for more information regarding Lyanna and Brandon, of what had happened in the capital since they had left. Would Lyanna return home? What was to happen? But he knew he could not ask for any of that.
Then Robert did something that Ned was not sure he had ever seen. He complied. Or seemingly so. "I think we've spoken enough for the time being," he said in a low and even tone, devoid of any emotion. "I best go see to reading over that beautiful paperwork you had crafted for us, shouldn't I?"
His grandmother was as taken aback as Ned by Robert's acquiescence. She, too, was surely more familiar with dealing with a fight or argument from Robert. So what was this? Rhaelle's eyes narrowed for a moment before settling upon something more open - though a bit wary still. "Yes, please do. Then we can speak again once we both have had some rest."
Lord Baratheon began to make his exit but before he did, she called to him. "Robert," she beckoned quietly, her hand outstretched. He stood still and looked to his grandmother before walking to her. When he arrived at her chair, he just looked down upon her, his blue eyes questioning. Her first reply was to slowly raise her hand and gently lay it upon his cheek.
And then softly she said, "Please."
With neither a nod of acceptance nor a shake of disagreement, Robert simply bowed down to lay a kiss on her cheek. "We shall speak later." And with that he walked out with purposeful strides, his eyes only settling upon Ned for a moment before he left the library all together.
The tension was only cut by Renly's young voice. "Why is Robert angry, grandmama? And you?"
Rhaelle took another deep breath before answering with a tired smile. "Do not worry about that, sweetling. Come," she said as she stood from her chair and then finished off her calming wine. "I would like to go inspect some of the land nearby - you shall come as well." She turned to Cressen and Ned heard her mutter, "his energy must be spent somewhere. He cannot stay inside like this."
"Of course, princess. And if you please, these messages arrived for you yesterday." The maester handed the sealed parchments to her and they all began to walk out, Ned following behind, feeling like an odd shadow.
Walking out of the library, he began to trail back from the trio ahead of him. But before they disappeared from his view, the sunlight from the windows they passed shone right onto the sigils embedded into the wax seals on the missives in Rhaelle Baratheon's hands.
He stopped walking altogether then. All he felt like he could do right then was look out the window to the sea. The waves had only grown more severe from when he woke, and the sky looked ready to overtake the sun with an unrepentant storm.
