Eddard VI
"I should have smashed those whores brains out myself! Make her watch the dragonspawn die with her own eyes!" Robert raged at the news of Lyanna, but it was Ellia that he spoke of, as well as little Rhaenys. Jon Arryn was the only other person in the room with them, yet the Voice spoke to him of the tunnels in the walls with children having their ears to the wall, listening, whispering.
He looked at the wall to his right, ignoring Robert's words. 'Is there a child listening to it right now? Will the child tell everything to Varys who will send those words to Doran?' Eddard thought. 'A bit of a pessimistic outlook on the world, even for you. Maegor built those tunnels to spy on others, would he build a tunnel to spy on himself? It was always a King's solar.' The Voice did nothing to ease his worries, another war would come, Eddard was sure of it, though he did not know when. Robert's reign will end in bloodshed.
"Ned!" The King's rage filled scream got his attention. "Tell me! Why did you ask me to keep this bitch alive! To send her back Dorne even!" Eddard truly hoped that there were no ears pressed to the room walls. 'With him yelling so loud I doubt that there aren't at least twelve accidental ears that heard his words. At least it sounds clear that you asked for her survival.' Yet it was a different word that Eddard concentrated on. 'You were right in the end, he called them dragonspawn.' He liked it not.
Jon took it upon himself to mitigate his foster son's anger. "Eddard already spoke of the help Oberyn provided him, I myself know the dangers of childbirth." Ned remembered well the rumors of Jon's past wives. "Not even a grand maester can save everyone." Especially since maesters tend to offer boiled wine and heroine for almost every wound.' Eddard knew not what 'Heroine' was.
It took him a few more minutes before Robert stopped raging. "At least the bastard girl died." Eddard didn't react, it was not the first time that Robert spoke such words, he also knew that it was emotions that spoke through his foster-brother. He would rage, he would drink and he would whore but he wouldn't act on his drunken whims.
'If Robert were to find out that the stillborn girl was in fact a still alive boy hidden away as your bastard, would he truly not act?' Ned decided not to answer, for he knew the pain it would bring him. Lyanna, Brandon and Rickard were not the only ones that he lost in this war. To him, Robert was also one of the ones that perished at the Trident, if not to wounds then to his inner demons. 'To Robert, it was Rheagar that won this war, he will dream of his and Lyanna's deaths every day till his death, sapping away on his sanity and care for the realm.' Eddard knew that well, yet he didn't care. The man has called his nephew, the only thing he had left from Lyanna, a dragonspawn.
"I need a drink. You tell him, Jon." No one stopped Robert from leaving his own solar. 'You just saw how the new King will rule, small matters or great. Six thousand northmen died for this.' He knew that well.
Jon took a seat that Robert just vacated, signaling his position as Hand of the King. Then he spoke. "Words came in, Quellon Greyjoy has perished on the Mander as you marched south to relieve Storm's End. Balon Greyjoy took over the Iron Islands as was his birthright, according to Varys the new Lord is worshipping the old ways, despite his own father's teachings." Ravings would start all over again, small hamlets and villages razed to the ground here and there. Even if only a few hundred were to die it would cause thousands to flee the western shore. 'And Rickard's attempt of repopulating the Western shore and raising a new Lordship will fail. The North cannot afford to build a fleet on the western shore to protect a few villages and hamlets. However few ships there are, they will be needed to patrol the passage from Saltspear to Seagard.'
'And in a few years the man will call himself King.' Eddard knew not to say it aloud, it would raise too many questions. 'An opportunity.' He knew that well, yet how many thousands would die to pay for that opportunity. Ned decided not to think about it now, it was still years before it would happen.
"I will warn my bannermen of it, thank you my Lord." Jon nodded and before he could try to reassure his foster son about Robert not meaning his words he left. Eddard had enough words of sympathy, in the end they meant nothing.
'In the end everything comes down to how much gold we can gain and infrastructure between South, Braavos and the North that will…' The Voice stopped speaking as Ned noticed a young boy at the Red Keep's gardens that he was just walking through. Yet it wasn't truly a boy, but a dwarf of ten, almost eleven years. 'Tyrion Lannister.' The boy was infamous enough for Eddard to have heard of him. 'If he is here then no doubt he has accompanied Cersei.' Tywin acted fast, yet he could do nothing to stop it as he denied the possibility of murder. 'You speak as if I wanted to kill her, a single word that the order came from you and Tywin would do everything in his power to answer in kind. It is best to ignore southern politics, they don't matter much either way.'
"Lord Stark." The boy greeted as he came closer, a small bow accompanied his greeting that came out a little stiff. 'He is so nervous and cute.' The Voice spoke, yet all Eddard could see was a mismatched eyes and fear stricken face.
"Lord Tyrion." He greeted back, although still a boy, he would take measure of a person that according to the Voice inherited his father's mind, if not body. "I hope the travel through Riverlands and Crownlands went uneventfully, there are still aplenty brigands there from what I heard. Wars tend to leave scars upon the lands, whenever for just reasons or not." 'Spoken like a true suthron.' Eddard thought about his own words.
"The roads were safe, my Lord father made sure of that before sending for my dear sister." The dwarf boy laughed awkwardly, yet the smile did not spread to Eddard himself. Before he could speak more, clacking of steel plates stopped him in his words.
Tyrion's older brother clad in gold armor and a Lannister red cloak with a lion of Casterly Rock embroiled into it. 'Looks like threads made of gold, if you snap it I will look the other way.' Putting Voice's bad jape aside he turned to the new arrival, Jaime's face was unreadable, no longer did he wear that small smirk that he so often wore.
"Ser Jaime." Eddard greeted, the man only nodded in response. If it were from anger directed at himself or puzzlement of what to do he did not know, not truly cared. Ned knew well when his being was not needed, nor liked. "I apologize but time is of the essence as the northern host will soon march home, do congratulate your sister in my name though." He turned and walked away, not waiting for more words. 'You were walking the other way, if you walk this way it will take you around the barracks in the east and take ten minutes more or so.' Eddard has chosen this path, and out of shame he dared not to go back, lest the Lannister brothers notice his mistake.
'Speak more of what you spoke before.' The Voice entertained Ned's order. 'The better the infrastructure the cheaper the costs of transport making goods more bulky and cheaper and more feasible to transport, such as grains or wool.' Eddard knew that well, even though he never liked to count copper coins, the maester at the Eyrie taught him well. 'What you were taught consisted more of a way to enrich the Lords, not the realm. How is money made with the roads?'
'Tolls, the Lords pay to repair the roads which come through their lands and they charge everyone who passes over them…' Eddard thought, knowing well what the Voice meant. 'In the end the price of goods stays the same and not many decide to make the journey despite the better road. What if the Lords couldn't exact tolls? What if there were three, four times the number of traders that decided to make the journey due to better margin of profit even if they had longer to travel?' He knew that when winter came even if Stark's had gold they had no way to spend it truly, for who would travel with a wagon full of grain through the snow or mud that northerners called roads or when a man could freeze in the snows.
'It took six thousand dead northmen for the Iron Throne to commit to build a single road and even now Jon is grumbling about it, you heard him before. The other road would be funded by a child killer and a man I wouldn't even wish to speak to if it weren't for you and your advice.' Eddard spoke in his mind, careful for his face to remain stoic as some glanced at him during his walk. 'What would be the price for more roads that could stand the bogs created by melting snow that covered the whole North during warmer winter months? What would the Lords do if I were to take away their right to exact tolls from their own lands?'
The Voice had an answer to it as well, it seemed he had an answer to everything. 'It will have to be done step by step, small changes over the years as they pass. Set the maximum amount of tax that can be levied out of every food wagon at start, safe gold for a road between Winterfell and White Harbour along the White Knife river.' That could work, Eddard thought. But it wouldn't bring much change. 'Why not ships then? The port tolls would be easier to control. Most winter's allowed for river craft to pass the White Knife.'
'For every ship there are a hundred wagons on the roads, it is best to focus on all aspects. The port at Saltspear that with time will turn into a proper city and toll-free roads that will connect the whole North.' Eddard had thought of similar things before. 'Dreams for spring.' This time Ned could feel anger in the Voice. 'Say what you will, but you are now Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. You cannot hide on a pile of rocks any more as you did before the war, you have a duty to your people.'