One week.

An entire Gods be damned week Ned had had to put up with Robert.

Regardless of the Kings previous observation that catching up may be better left until after the Ironborn had been defeated, he had spent the entire time awaiting the Dornish arrival following the Northern Lord around Riverrun.

"Come! Let's spar!"

"How is dear Catelyn, I hear she's with child again!"

"Tell me more about your son, the one you named after me!"

"I hear young Sansa is already a beautiful little lady! You know, I have a son just a year older than her."

"Come to the whorehouse with me, Ned!"

"Come drink with me, Ned!"

It was enough that he almost wept when the guards up on the ramparts sounded their horns, signalling the approach of an army that could only have been the Dornish. As the last to arrive, Ned was not the only one eager to see them and as such his hurried walk - or dignified jog according to some - away from the King garnered no gasps or stares and caused no offense to the man that was similarly rushing to get into position to greet the hated newcomers as regally as possible.

"Make way for your King!" He shouted, cheeks turning red as he had to push curious onlookers out of the way. "Get me my cloak! And my helm! And where the fuck is my warhammer?"

If Ned didn't know better, he would think his childhood friend was trying to impress the desert lords. As it were, he simply shared an amused glance with Lord Arryn as he got into position.

Within minutes, the courtyard was cleared of all but the Lord Paramount of each kingdom and a few servants. King Robert in the middle, flanked by his Hand Jon Arryn and Ned, with Lord Hoster Tully on Ned's other side and Mace Tyrell after him, and Lord Tywin beside Jon. The only one missing was Stannis Baratheon, who despite not being the Lord of the Stormlands - Robert having passed that title on to his youngest brother much to the confusion of the realm - had been chosen to lead the Stormlander army. After arriving a few days before the Northern party and ensuring his men were settled and duties were assigned, the man had ridden off with a small host of men towards the nearest coast, where he would meet the Royal and Redwyne fleets.

The castle doors opened and a score of men riding their horses at a fast pace up the beaten road became visible, Prince Oberyn at the head of them. It did not take long for them to barrel through the gates, pulling on the reins of their horses to stop their advance. Almost twenty men, all carrying spears at their back and swords at their hip, wearing leather doublets that matched the colour of their skin, covered by furs that Ned was sure came from Bear Island. As soon as they hopped off their steeds, servants hurried from the sides of the courtyard to gather them and lead them to the stables to rest with the other Lords' horses, the Dornishmen not even turning their attention towards them as they strode purposefully towards Ned and his group.

Faces all remained serious and set in stone as the men stopped a dozen or so paces away, leaving Prince Oberyn to approach alone, no one moving or speaking as he finally stopped before the King. He stood there for an unbearable ten seconds that had Neds' heart beating faster before finally taking a knee, though not before shooting a smirk at the Northerner.

Bowing his head, the Prince intoned loudly: "Your Grace, King Robert. As you know, my eldest sibling -" a slight phrasing of words that reminded them all of his other sibling and consequently her brutal death "is currently debilitated by his illness and is unable to leave Sunspear. As such, he sends me to speak and fight on his behalf."

Robert grunted in acknowledgement of the man's words but did not signal him to rise.

"To speak on his behalf, you say?"

"Yes, Your Grace." The Dornish Prince shifted slightly, and a slight tightening of his jaw that Ned was sure he only noticed because of his time spent with the man indicated how the situation grated on him. "Considering the recent rebellion of the Ironborn, my brother thought it high time we swore our oaths to you as our King."

The Lords all made sounds of surprise or pleasure, Lord Tywin drawing himself taller with a smug look upon his face, as if he had won a great victory. Considering the entire realm knew it had been he who had ordered his dogs to attack the Princess and her children during the Sack of King's Landing, Ned imagined hearing that his greatest threat was to swear loyalty to his son in law would indeed please the man immeasurably.

A slight flick of Robert's fingers had Prince Oberyn rising, a pleasant - if somewhat patronizing, Ned thought - smile on his face and all trace of discomfort or displeasure gone.

"A ceremony shall be held this evening in Riverrun's great hall to allow you and Lord Stark to pledge your vows of fealty." Robert stated, his tone firm though the lines on his face has softened slightly.

Oberyn nodded and the line disbanded, Lords Arryn, Tully and Lannister giving short bows to the King before returning to the castle to tend to their affairs. Ned, Mace Tyrell and Prince Oberyn gravitated towards each other, this being the first time they saw each other since their meeting at Highgarden at the beginning of winter, and of course, Robert was not about to go anywhere else without his best friend. Oberyn shot the northerner a look seeing the King's proximity and he struggled to keep himself from sighing and rolling his eyes.

You have no idea what I've had to put up with while waiting for you. Ned tried to convey. Considering the Prince's expression turn from annoyed to amused, Lord Stark was fairly sure he got his point across.

"I trust winter has not touched Dorne too terribly, Prince Oberyn?" Lord Tyrell asked with only a slight hint of polite curiosity in his voice. Clearly the man was not as oafish as his mother often complained and was downplaying his relationship to the other two in the alliance. In fact, Ned realized that in the past week that they had been in the same castle, they had only ever exchanged a few polite words of small talk rather than resuming some of the intersting conversations they had been having via raven. Though Robert's presence really made serious discussions and debates quite difficult to have regardless of who it was with.

"It has not, Lord Tyrell, thank you for asking." Oberyn responded, bowing his head slightly. "Of course, the weather became more temperate and we had to rely on our southernmost fields for the farming of some of our luxury items. Really no different than any other winter we have been through. I must say though, these Northern furs really are top quality, Lord Stark. I imagine they bring you much coin."

Watching Robert's head swivel from one person to another was almost comical as the trio engaged in inconsequential prattle, something he never imagined Eddard Stark of all people participating in. One could almost taste the man's confusion as the they continued their talk, practically ignoring the 6 foot 4 bear of a man with a gleaming golden crown.

"Through tax, perhaps." Ned responded, sparing a small smile for the Dornishman much to Robert's shock. "The furs you and your men are wearing are from Bear Island, I believe. Only Mormont men can produce cloaks of that quality."

"Is that so?" Mace asked, tilting his head to the side. "I wonder why that is."

"Well, though the North is quite a wild and primal place in general, Bear Island is known to be an absolute hub for wildlife. I'm uncertain what it is but the location is simply perfect for the the animals there to thrive, particularly bears as the streams and rivers are absolutely overflowing with salmon. Anyway, their fur is much thicker and healthier than any you can find on the mainland. Additionally, those that live on the island are trained from a young age to fight off large predators, and often become the best hunters in the entirety of the North."

"I do believe you mentioned Lord Mormont gifted two cloaks of bear fur to Jon and Robb during their first nameday celebration." Oberyn commented.

"Jon and Robb's?" the King said, his brows furrowing. "I thought the first nameday celebration was only for the heir?"

Ned nodded, turning slightly as he noticed that the three of them had formed a triangle and left Robert standing slightly outside of the boundary. "That's right, traditionally that is the case, but considering how close in age the boys are and that Jon is the son of a first born - bastard or not - I thought it ideal to celebrate both of them."

It seemed Robert's frown softened slightly as he stepped forward into the newly formed square of men and Ned's heart unclenched somewhat. Only to completely stop beating at Oberyn's next words.

"How is little Jon, anyway Lord Stark?"

Whipping his head back from the King to the Dornishman, he tried his best to keep his eyes from widening at the question. Was the man mad?

"Jon Snow?" Robert asked, his frown returned with a vengeance. "How do you know Ned's nephew?"

"Jon was born in Dorne, didn't you know?" Oberyn replied, a hint of a smirk on his face. It seemed even Mace realized they were stepping into dangerous territory as he cleared his throat and shuffled his feet slightly, sending the northerner a worried glance.

Ned however was preoccupied by Robert's sudden questioning look as heat spread throughout his body and he hoped his face was not reddening.

"Dorne?"

"Yes, Robert." The Northerner responded, trying to convey with his tone that surely he had mentioned this to his friend before, no? "He was handed to me by a villager near Starfall after I had returned Arthur Dayne's sword to his family."

Lifting his chin as if to convey a silent 'Oh', Robert paused a moment before resuming his interrogation. "But when did he meet Prince Oberyn?"

An idea blossoming, Ned suddenly shifted his demeanour, standing taller and pursing his lips as if in disapproval. "I went to present my condolences to the Martells once my duties to House Dayne were complete. They met him there."

And that was that. Oberyn's eyes flashed in anger at the mention of his sister and Robert, in a rare moment of thoughtfulness, immediately backed off and let the subject go. As foul as his mood was, Ned almost backhanded Mace when he heard a small sigh of relief escape his lips.

"Well." He said instead, his tone still closed off and his face set in a stern expression. "I need to check on my men before the feast tonight and I assume Prince Oberyn needs to get settled in, so I will leave you now."

Barely bowing his head in respect to his King, the Northerner immediately turned and headed towards the stables to fetch his horse, and before long he was out the gates and riding along the path that would lead him to his army's camp. Sighing, he realized that he would have to agree to every one of Robert's requests to spar and drink to get him forget that little episode and he cursed Oberyn Martell and his arrogant mouth.


The next morning saw the Lords Paramount of the Seven Kingdoms - barring of course Lords Balon Greyjoy and Stannis Baratheon - gathered in the main solar of the castle, on one of its highest floors. It was a ramshackle group of men and in fact only Tywin Lannister and Ned seemed their usual selves, having only had a few glasses of wine at the feast the night previous. Everyone else was slumped in their chair, pale and squinting at the light of the sun through the window. There wasn't much Eddard Stark and Tywin Lannister agreed on, but in this instance they both stood at their places around the desk, lips pursed and stances rigid as they looked upon the others with disapproval, a perfect mirror of each other. Turning up to a war council hungover, what an idea!

That said, Ned was still in a better mood than he had been for a while, having a weight that had burdened him for over a month finally removed from his shoulders. As promised, both Oberyn and he had sworn their vows of fealty to King Robert before the feast, in front of hundreds of witnesses.

"I, Eddard of House Stark, Lord Paramount of the North, do swear before the Gods Old and New my loyalty to King Robert Baratheon, first of his name, King of the Andals and the First men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, and accept the privileges and duties that come with."

Simple and to the point, as everyone had come to expect of the Quiet Wolf of the North; no words wasted. What everyone failed to notice is that firstly, he had only pledged himself, not the North and that secondly, his vow had only been to Robert, not any of his descendants. He was not about to offer his fealty in perpetuity as his ancestor had done for the Targaryens. Actually, he had been quite surprised that Oberyn's oath had been quite similar, though with more flourishes and additions: he had only promised fealty to Robert himself, though he did include the entirety of Dorne in his vow.

Regardless, that was over with and Robert was appeased. And hungover, staring blankly at a map of Westeros.

"If you would like us to begin, Your Grace?" Tywin asked, though his tone held more steel than was necessary for a request of his King.

Robert barely noticed, instead jerking to attention. "Eh? Oh right. Yes. Aye."

He stood, pushing up with his arms to help him out of his seat and huffing at the effort before coming to lean against the table and the maps that lay upon it, the other Lords following suit.

"So." The King cleared his throat and scrunched his face, as if to clear some of the numbness. "The Ironborn have already attacked Lannisport, Oldtown, Flint's Finger and Bear Island." He said, pointing at each location on the map as he said them. "Not a single Riverland town has yet been touched, despite it being a fairly rich and poorly defended area. It is the closest of the kingdoms to the Iron Islands and the rivers allow easy access far enough inland to take the whole damn territory."

Lord Tully huffed, but even he could not deny Robert's words. The Riverlands had never been an easily defensible land and as such had played host to a multitude of battles throughout history; the Battle of the Trident during Robert's Rebellion and the Field of Fire during the Conquest being the two most prominent ones.

"Seagard is a strong port within easy reach of the rest of our coasts." He argued nevertheless.

"Aye." Robert agreed, eyes moving to the point on the map. "That is why Greyjoy will aim to cripple Seagard before moving onto the rest of the Riverlands."

There was a moment of pensive silence as the Lords pondered on that, eyes tracing the map, searching for weak points and tracing easy routes from the Iron Islands.

"With Seagard comes the Riverlands, and with the Riverlands taken, the Seven Kingdoms will be split in two. The North on one side of the enemy and the rest of us on the other." Prince Oberyn commented. "And with the Northern army down south with us, that leaves it open for invasion once the Ironborn have a hold on the mainland."

Ned doubted the North was in any real danger: with the Neck to traverse and then Moat Cailin to get past - however incomplete it was, not to mention that the Northern Fleet could cut them off at the canal with barely any notice, any invasion from the south was doomed. Yet the risk was still too great, and regardless of victory or failure, Northern civilians would die in an attempted invasion.

"Stannis is already positioned in Ironman's Bay with the Royal and Redwyne fleets, ready to defend it when the Iron fuckers attack. And they will attack." Robert stated, turning his attention to them all one by one.

"Agreed."

"And the Northern Fleet is awaiting its orders on the northern side of the Cape of Eagles." Ned added, eliciting nods of acknowledgement from the others.

"We need to split our forces among the fleets: Royal to guard Seagard and the Riverlands; Redwyne to remain on standby and ready to take chase if the Ironborn head elsewhere; and the North ready to attack the Islands themselves, to be joined by the others during the last leg."

"Lords Baratheon, Stark and Tyrell already have their posts then, all that is left is to assign placements to the rest of the troops." Lord Tywin commented, drawing nods from the others. "With the Tyrell numbers they do not need much more reinforcements, I propose Prince Oberyn join them with his 15,000 spearmen."

If Ned hadn't already had words with the Dornishman about his behaviour, he was sure the hot headed Prince would have responded with something scathing. Or perhaps just drawn his dagger at the Lion's audacity. As it was, he simply narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw, nodding once in agreement yet refusing to deign the Lannister with actual words.

"Good." Robert continued, his energy slowly coming back as the meeting went on. Or perhaps it was his familiarization with hangovers that had him recovering quickly. "The Crownland forces will join the Starks on the frontal assault and the Riverlands will join my brother and the Stormlander forces at Seagard."

"Would the Crownlands not be with the Royal Fleet?" Mace Tyrell asked confusedly, echoing the thoughts of those around the table.

"No. Stannis will head the Royal Fleet and with him comes the Stormlands. Lord Stark and I have fought together before and know each other's strengths and weaknesses. I fight with him." Robert responded firmly. It was true, they had grown up together, leant to spar together and then fought a Rebellion side by side. If there was one man that Ned knew he could lead an army with, it was Robert, despite his hatred against him. It was bizarre having such contrary opinions. "Goes without saying, the Crownlands army goes where I do."

"Very well, Your Grace." Tywin nodded. "With 60,000 men on the Redwyne Fleet, 50,000 on the Royal Fleet and another 60,000 on the Northern Fleet, where shall Lord Arryn and I send out men?"

Ned let out a shocked breath at the numbers. With all the armies of the Seven Kingdoms united against a common goal, their force was impressive. Enough so that he wasn't sure there would even be room for them on the ships, as against the Ironborn, naval battles were sure to be the only fights there would be, rather than two armies comprising of archers, infantrymen and a cavalry facing off on opposing sides of a field. Perhaps it was arrogance that had made the Northern Lord muster up a total army of 35,000? Eagerness at showing the southerners than the North was no longer the weakest of them? He could have left the entirety of the host he had marched down with up North, left them at home and simply joined up with the 15,000 strong navy he had built.

"The Redwyne Fleet is over 300 ships strong, Your Grace. Considering we are unsure of the Ironborn's next moves nor the number of their ships, perhaps it would be best to station Lords Lannister and Arryn on that Fleet? After all, if the Ironborn head for multiple targets, they may need to split their forces."

"Aye, not a bad idea."

"Very well, Your Grace." The two remaining Lords nodded, accepting their positions.

"Good. Now, we will head to our stations as soon as our men are ready to move. It will take a week to reach Seagard, and another two or three days for Ned and I to reach the other side of the Cape Eagles. We remain on standby for one more week before the Northern Fleet heads for the attack, taking Blacktyde and Oakmont before moving west. The Royal Fleet will take Harlaw and join us when reaching Pike. The Redwyne Fleet, your main objective is destroying any Ironborn ship that leaves the safety of their islands, but if you are left available to attack then you come from the west, taking Great Wyk. Hopefully this shitfest will be over in less than two months."

That was music to their ears. They all had families waiting at home, they all had other duties to attend to, none of them wished to waste time and so the Greyjoys would be put down hard, and Ned would hopefully be home in time to see his next child born.