BLACK-OP1 - Thanks for pointing that out, it has been corrected. And I'm glad you like those two. Lyonel and Shireen are probably my two favourite characters to write right now, certainly for book one, though right now I'm on book three and Loren is really picking up.

shadespace - Tristan and Robb have their own arcs, Tristan is definitely not just a replacement for his brother. But as to him correcting Robb's mistakes; this isn't just a fix-fic for the Starks, that's not Tristan's purpose in the story. Also it's difficult for a less clever person to correct the mistakes of his cleverer half.


Robert had finally attended a council meeting, which was enough to surprise Ned in and of itself. But the topic that Robert was obsessed with was not a surprise to him. "So there is no news of the girl?" He asked. Ned silently lamented the hope that Robert had come to administer the kingdoms. He had been overjoyed when he had heard of Pentos being sacked by the Dothraki but that euphoria had died away and now he wanted to find the kidnapped Targaryen princess. Ned thought that there were much more important things to be worried about than the fate of one girl, the last of a fallen line but Robert's hatred for Rhaegar was blinding him.

Varys shook his head mournfully. "I fear not, Your Grace," he said. "My little birds have reported no sightings of her anywhere."

"A girl like that," Renly said with a smile, "with the Valyrian look, was likely taken to Lys, sold into one of the pleasure houses there, she will be no concern."

"I would not be so certain, Lord Renly," Littlefinger said with a smile as sly as a fox. Ned raised his eyebrow and looked intently into those eyes that revealed nothing.

Robert had also taken notice. "You know where she is?"

Littlefinger's smile remained. "Not for certain, Your Grace," he said. "But I was having such a pleasant chat with a merchant captain this morning. This captain was lucky enough to escape Pentos whilst it was being sacked."

"Piss on the bloody backstory," Robert declared. "And tell me, do you know where she is or not?"

"I fear the story is necessary to the explanation, Your Grace," Littlefinger said and Robert, impatient and bored, waved his hand.

"This captain witnessed the ship that took the Princess, the sails were plain, no identifying markers," Robert growled and Littlefinger coughed, clearing his throat. "When he was coming to King's Landing, his ship was seized and taken to Dragonstone for a full search."

"What?" Lord Renly asked. "What is our dear brother doing?"

Littlefinger shrugged. "He has been seizing and searching ships ever since he left, keeping some behind whilst letting others go, this was one such ship."

"We must ask Lord Stannis what he is doing," Ned commented, with the treasury in shambles they could not truly afford to delay trade for too long. "For now, continue, Baelish." Ned was curious himself as to where this was going.

"The same ship that took the Targaryen," Littlefinger said with a smile. "The captain saw it at Dragonstone."

There was silence around the table. "Are you saying," Robert said dangerously. "That the girl is on Dragonstone, on my very doorstep and we did not know this," Robert looked at Varys and Ned followed the gaze, surprised to see that Varys looked just as surprised as others.

"I have heard of nothing, Your Grace," he said. "But I haven't heard anything lately, Lord Stannis seizing ships had limited how much news we can get from there."

"Send a message to Stannis," Robert ordered, slamming a huge fist on the table. "You, Baelish, send a description of that ship. He will scour that Island from top to bottom if he has to, he will find the Targaryen girl and bring her to me."

"And then?" Ned asked. "What do you intend to do with her, Robert?"

Robert looked like he wanted to take up his warhammer again. "I'll decide when she arrives," he said.

"There is something else, Your Grace," Varys said. Everyone looked to him. "Well, the information is most appreciated, but also begs another question. Lord Stannis" son Lyonel was in Essos, is it entirely impossible that he was the one who brought the girl back."

"He was in Volantis," Ned said. He had said so when he had refused to give Arya instructions on archery, Ned had asked him. My father heard that his father may have left something in Volantis, he said. I went to see if it was true, it was not. "That boy may be many things," he said. "Hard, unyielding, stubborn."

"All traits of his father," Renly commented making the rest of the table laugh.

"Either way," Ned said, who had not laughed. "He does not tell falsehoods."

Thankfully, in this instance, Robert seemed to listen to him. "Ned is right, the boy would not dare bring my enemy here." He stood up. "Send that letter now, nothing else matters at this council." Grand Maester Pycelle nodded and Littlefinger leaned in to offer a brief description of the ship. Ned meanwhile, stood up and followed Robert out.

"This is good Ned," Robert said, smiling. "If the girl can be brought here, then she will be no threat."

"You think so?" Ned asked. Hopeful.

"It might be good to have the Last Targaryen here," Robert laughed. "Show her the new power in King's Landing."

This was more the Robert he knew; laughing, boasting, ever eager to speak of his own glory, to show it off. He'd passed of the comment as though he'd been gifted with a splendid new warhammer. Ned remembered when he'd gotten his famous one in the Eyrie, he invited all the young men of the vale to lift, it, booming with roaring laughter when each of them failed in turn before hefting it over his shoulder like the child he'd been presented with but a few days before. He'd forgotten the girl, but the warhammer was close to his heart from that day forth, and after he'd slaked it in Rhaegar's blood he'd come to love it as his most prized mistress. He'd love a woman in an evening and leave them in the morning, but not that hammer, never that hammer.

"Do you remember before the Trident?" Ned asked.

"I do," Robert replied, almost dreamy, his eyes gazing forward and Ned knew he was remembering that night of dread and promise, of final oaths and wagers. He had hoped to spent the time quietly, alone in prayer and thought, had Cat conceived in their fortnight together? Was Benjen struggling at Winterfell, would he be left as Lord after the coming battle? Lord Hoster had been the last to arrive with his loyal forces after ravaging the lands of the disloyal Lords Darry and Goodbrook, and he'd brought news of the battle coming to them. Rhaegar was marching north with a host ten thousand men larger than their own. He'd wondered if they'd been wise to split the host, but Jon and Hoster had said that without Tywin's intentions known they had to watch the River Road for possible movement from the host of lions. At Riverrun the Blackfish had split with his brother, and it was agreed that Ser Brynden would take just under half the host and remain to watch the River Road for a Lannister advance. Robert had agreed as well, declaring he would lead half their number again to victory against Prince Rhaegar's army. The clean shaven veteran that he had been, even Ned had believed it. They had drawn the Prince north, crossing the Trident before turning. They would battle the Targaryens at the crossing, negating the advantage of numbers that they had.

"Back then... we could've done anything, conquered the world, killed dragons, marched into the heart of winter itself," he let out a booming laugh. "Now look at us. I'm fat and you're old."

"Not so old," Ned replied, letting a smile creep onto his face. "Not yet."

Robert laughed so hard his beard shook. "Tell that to the grey hairs you've got," he chortled.

He rubbed his chin and the flecks of ash in his brown beard. "I wouldn't seek to encourage them."

"Ah how I've missed this," Robert said when his laughter died down. "I loved Jon like a second father, but I haven't had a chance to just talk and think about the good old days. Jon just wanted to talk coppers and crowns, Renly would be busy admiring his dresses and skirts, Barristan stands like a white statue, Stannis just grinds his teeth, I'm sure that there's no enjoyment in that man's soul, and it's in his children as well." He shook his head. "The bow, I ask you. Though that daughter of his was quite a blessing."

"Do you think Stannis will find her? What if she's not there?"

Robert waved it away like he was swatting a particularly stubborn fly. "If she's not there she"ll be in some slaver's hands before long, and not worth bothering with, if she's there, Stannis will find her. He'll search every ship to confirm it or prove that Baelish's contacts have brains the size of his finger." He nodded. "He'll find her." He had a look in his eye like a plan. "There will be a hunt," he declared. "Yes, a grand hunt, in the Kingswood, hounds, horns, everything, there are still many lords here left from the tourney I believe."

Ned nodded. "There are." Lord Royce was taking his time making preparations to return to the Vale, and would likely ride at Robert's side in the hunt, and he was not alone. Likely there would be other tagalongs as well. Ned had had piles of requests from landless and masterless knights to take up arms in his service or to the king and the chance to be noticed by the king would be too much for them to miss out on. A royal hunt was no cheap affair, fodder had to be gathered, stipends for some of the guests, and the servants and hounds as well as the rest. But if it kept Robert in a good enough mood it was worth it. If the girl was found and Robert's mood was dark when she arrived... He shook his head. Robert wouldn't kill an innocent girl when she was before him, would he? Or had hatred of the Targaryens seeped into his very blood, his very bones, his very soul.

"My Lord." The two of them turned. It was Jory. "My lord there's a messenger for you, a Black Brother."

He turned back to Robert. "Your Pardon, Robert?"

But Robert was already waving him away. "Go, see to what the watchman wants, but begin preparations for the Hunt as well."

"As you command, Your Grace."

"None of that!" Robert called after him.

Ned allowed himself a smile as they left to the Tower of the Hand. "Did this brother of the watch say what he wanted."

Jory shook his head. "No my lord. Though he was rather more ragged than expected when he arrived, and he insisted on speaking with you, my lord, personally and at once."

Ned nodded. It was likely he hoped that as the Warden of the North, Ned would be able to get more recruits for him. We do have an abundance of knights in the capital, though the idea of freezing on the Wall and defending against Wildlings is likely not what they had in mind when they deemed of seeking glory.

The watchman was a hunched man, a thick black beard covering his face, his black clothes faded to a dark grey. The recruiters were often allowed leeway in their dress for all their travelling. He had a sword belt at his waist , the pommel plain and the handle worn, and he was chewing on something, from the smell, he would guess sourleaf. "M" lord," he said, getting up and bowing at the waist.

Ned nodded back in respect. "Your name, friend?"

"Yoren, if it please you."

"You're a recruiter," Ned said, making his way around to his desk and sitting down. He nodded at Jory who turned and left, closing the door with a soft click behind him.

"I am, m'lord," he replied. "I was hoping to scour your dungeons for potential recruits, perhaps look to some of the knights from the recent tourney."

He nodded. "I'll get you access, and give your name to the knights, along with my own," hopefully that would persuade even a few of them to go. Every knight was a treasure to the Watch.

"Many thanks m'lord," Yoren replied. "But that's not why I came to you this day."

"No?" Ned asked. "Is it Benjen?"Had something happened to his brother?

But Yoren shook his head. "Not in the way you're thinking m'lord," he said, spitting out some red juices, confirming what he was chewing on. "But his blood runs black, making him as much my brother as yours, and in his friendship I come to you today." He turned his head and checked the door. "I hope to give you some advance warning, though it'll be known to all before long. I wasn't the only witness, and other riders will be riding as well. West to Casterly Rock where the lions brood, south to Highgarden and Storm's End and East to the Vale."

"What is it?" Ned demanded.

"It's your lady wife, m'lord. She's taken the Imp."