Eddard

Rays of sun cut through the canopy of leaves above him, filtering down into the Godswood and lighting it gently in the early morning. A few red leaves filter down in the wind. One falling to his knee where it rests. Ned picks it up delicately, studying it momentarily. He thinks of Winterfell, as the Weirwood leaves easily bring to mind the sprawling Godswood of his youth that he would spend plentiful time within. He recalls early evenings spent with Lyanna swinging her wooden sword at him while Benjen cheered and Alys sat nearby on the edge of the small pool of water, her feet sending waves rippling through the waters. He remembers Brandon coming to them and fetching them all for sleep, carrying Benjen on his shoulders when he was still little enough, the twins rushing ahead arm in arm and Ned behind them all, slower and smiling at his family.

Ned lets out a steadying breath, a hand coming up to run over his face before he stands. There will be time for memories and praying at a weirwood later.

It is the early hours of morning after the battle of the Trident. They are camped around Harrenhal, bringing a strange mix of emotions to Ned as he walks from he sprawling Godswood back towards the melted castle where he's going to find Jon and Robert. Of the three of them Ned and his men were the least injured, and as such Ned was set to leave within the next hour in pursuit of the Royalists who escaped the field.

Jon Arryn was busy with recollecting the force they were left with after the Trident, which was better off than the Royalists had been but still in need of recuperation. Robert, on the other hand, was injured. Not long after the battle had died off had Ned rushed to his friends side as he listed atop his horse, a long slice up his front bleeding through and mingling with the already bloody water of the Trident.

He'd spent most of the evening being looked over by a maester. Not his own, as he'd sent his own maester instead to the sole surviving Kingsguard of the battle. Ser Barristan barely clinging to life when he'd been brought before Robert. Ser Barristan was certainly in a worse shape than Robert, though the three heads of the Rebellion had yet to fully decide what would become of him when he recovered.

Robert already seemed better this morning though, as Ned enters the main hall where Robert sits with Jon, his front bandaged heavily and a loose tunic covering him. He glanced up at Ned and nods, "you leaving soon?"

"After I finish speaking with the pair of you, yes," Ned moves to the table and sees the now familiar sight of a map with different pieces indicating different factions. Some letters sit off to the side by Jon and Robert sighs as he looks it over himself.

"There's been word," Jon starts, a frown to his face more of contemplation than anything. "Tywin Lannister's forces have started moving."

"Towards us or…?" Ned questions.

"Seems they are heading in the direction of the city." Ned gazes over the map, and sees the finely carved lion head upon it. He looks at the distance between those lions and the capital and the distance of his own men.

"It'll be tight." He remarks, "he'll possibly make it before I can get there."

"Yes." Jon's frown deepens. "Our only saving grace in that regard is that he hasn't declared yet which force his army will fight."

"Sitting on his golden ass this whole time," Robert grumbles, "even now, the Prince is dead, his army is limping its way back to the city and still Tywin Lannister doesn't pick a side."

"Could be strategic." Jon offers, "if he declares for us then it's unlikely the city will welcome his army within it's walls."

"We won't know until we face him," Ned settles, voice grim. "I trust the Lannisters to only do what is best for them, if they see gain in defending the city then we have more hard times ahead."

"And if they see it best to join us then they might just make it all the easier." Jon offers.

"I couldn't care less if it's easier or harder," Robert huffs, "so long as this finishes with the Targaryens as dead and gone as their bloody dragons."

Jon and Ned are both quiet, but they nod. "I should get my men ready," Ned says after a few more moments. He looks to Jon and Robert both, "I will get the city ready for you to follow."

Jon nods, reaches over and rests a hand to Ned's shoulder and squeezes before turning back to the letters and maps. Robert smiles, "I know you will, Ned." Robert doesn't stand, the injury on his front keeping him in his chair, instead he reaches grabbing Neds hand in his and squeezes. A flash of a smile blazes upon his face and he jokes, "keep that throne for me, I want to find out if it's as uncomfortable as they all say."

Ned returns the smile, though less fully, before nodding once more to them both and leaving the hall.

He moves for some way in the direction of the doors, but pauses in his step a second before turning and heading deeper into the keep. He moves through the halls, deeper and further until he reaches the farthest rooms where he spots two guards of Jon's outside the door he was seeking. They both nod to him as he enters and he pauses after shutting the door behind him.

The maester is in the room, checking the bandages and shifting through his collection of medicines.

But Barristan is awake at the moment, which if Ned recalls he hasn't been much since he was dragged before Robert.

The older knight was a man likely near Ned's father's age before he died, hair turning white on his head and beard. His eyes, previously closed until the door had shut behind Ned, open to show pale blue eyes that look remarkably tired and sad. They blink at Ned a moment before he starts to push himself up.

"You don't need to strain yourself," Ned remarks, holding up a hand and the knight nods sagging back into the bed. Ned moves closer, standing at the side of the bed and trying to think the best way to ask what he wishes to know.

"You share your sister's eyes," Barristan remarks, his voice rough and deep, and slightly strained in both pain and grief. "I was always sorry for her situation. It…" he pauses, seeming to think on how best to word his sentence. "It wasn't a fair way of things, how it all went."

"How was she?" Ned inquires, his own voice rough with his own grief. "When you last saw her?"

"As well as one would expect in her situation," Barristan says, "good days and bad." He coughs a second, pain clear on his face as he does. The maester tuts at them and pulls out a small vial and mixes it in a goblet of water. "She is a very kind girl, I always found her company pleasant when I was her guard at the beginning." He pauses a second, "She was no longer being guarded during the day when I left, and she's made some friends."

"Friends?" Ned frowned.

"They try to treat her more as a ward of the crown than a hostage," Barristan clears and Ned nods. Recalling that her letter to Benjen— who'd written of what he received to Ned— had described some factor of that. "Some of the queens ladies have taken a fondness for her. Lady Tyrell in particular."

Ned nods again and after a second Barristan adds, "Ser Jaime as well, the pair have become close in his guarding of her."

"Jaime?"

"Lannister." Barristan glances at the maester moves him up enough so he can drink the small goblet easier.

"He needs rest," the maester informs Ned who nods. He has to be leaving anyway.

"Thank you," Ned says, "for being kind to her as it seems you have. And for… for telling me what you could."

"She is an innocent in this all," Barristan states, "I am sorry she has had to suffer as she has." He takes the goblet and drinks slow. Ned nods once more to both the older kingsguard and to the maester before he takes his leave. Barristan already slipping into sleep as the door shuts.

Before long Ned is sat upon his horse and moving even further south with his army behind him. A quick pace ahead of them in hopes of beating the Lannister forces from the west. Or at least to arrive not long after them.

Ned looks forward, towards the horizon where King Landing lies. He thinks of Alys and hopes he sees her soon.

Alys

Alys was making her way back to her rooms from her evening visit to the Godswood when she hears the news. A pair of ladies are stood in a little balcony off the garden path, they don't see her and as such they don't lower their voices as she passes.

As such she hears them say, "Rhaegar died, Robert Baratheon killed him himself."

Alys's steps faltered at the words, it took all her control to continue forward, to not inquire further about those words. She pushed herself to keep walking and walking until she made it to her rooms. She shuts the door and then just stands, feet planted in the spot right after the doorway and unable to move further as her mind whirs and processes what that all might mean.

It could be false. She could have heard wrong. It could be the other way around and the rebellion is lost.

But she heard it. Rhaegar died.

Rhaegar is dead.

She presses a hand to her mouth and finds she doesn't know whether to laugh or cry or both.

There's some guilt, at the notion of laughing of another persons death.

But it's more what his death means.

It means the war has truly turned in the favor of her brother. Of the rebellion.

A smile plays at her lips as she lets out a breath of relief, leaning back against the door as her eyes shut gently.

There's worry. That little sentence was all she's heard and so for all she knows her brother could have fallen as well. A thought that sends ice through her veins but she pushes it away, pushes away the threat of grief at just the thought. Until she knows otherwise it is better to believe he made it through the battle that killed Rhaegar. Better to hope than to grieve before it's needed.

She focuses instead on getting ready for sleep, knowing that soon enough Jaime would be joining her and he would be her best chance at finding answers.

Jaime has been sleeping in her rooms since that first night when Lord Chelsted died and Jaime came to her rooms in a state of being that was so unlike what Alys was used to seeing him. It wasn't exactly something they'd spoken and agreed upon, more it just sort of happened. And Alys couldn't bring herself to dislike it. She certainly slept leagues better with him beside her, and she got the distinct feeling that he did as well. It wasn't as though anything untoward occurred, he still never went below her own covers, and the most that occurred was Alys curling against his arm in the evening and waking with it around her.

No, she rather liked it if she was honest.

Liked the comfort and the ease of it with Jaime beside her.

True if it was discovered it would likely cause a scandal, she'd be thought of as ruined and he'd… well she can't imagine much would happen to him. At least until her brothers learned of it, then perhaps there'd be some trouble.

But the fact remained that they didn't do anything. Just slept. It was a fact she could use to settle Ned and Benjen, most likely. Not a fact that would stop rumors of her from swirling if it was discovered, but after the last year she can hardly care much on rumors.

Perhaps it would be smarter to end it, sleep alone even if it's restless sleep.

But she simply does not want to. She finds comfort in it too much.

Though it also has the added benefit of knowing she will be seeing Jaime on the daily. And as such she knows she'll be seeing him today, which will allow her to ask for news and answers to the questions the press on her mind.

Questions that have her pacing the space before her bed until she hears the now familiar slide of stone that indicates Jaime's arrival. She spins to face him and he has a small quirk to his lips at seeing her pacing state before he jests, "I assume you've heard the news then?" Even with the jest she can still hear the tenseness that Rhaegar's death likely has brought to him.

She can't imagine it's easy. He is sworn to protect the royal family. That means Rhaegar as much as it means the King and the Queen.

"I have," Alys confirms, sitting herself before her fire and watching him walk around to join her. He does look tired, she notes, worn out. She imagines the king wasn't pleased.

No that's wrong. Of course the king wasn't pleased, even more than that most likely. Grief likely plagued him, and the queen. Their eldest son has died…

Alys feels a pang of guilt stir in her chest as she realizes she is pleased that Rhaegar fell.

It seems that guilt shows to her face as Jaime nudges her, "you're allowed to be happy."

"People are dead…" She swallows harshly and frowns. "That is no reason for glee."

"Your father and brother are dead," He reminds, perhaps harshly as it does make her shoulders drop and her eyes shut, "the king was plenty gleeful of that."

"But Rhaegar isn't his father," Alys states.

"Perhaps not," Jaime says, contemplating a moment before he adds, "But he still did things that hurt you and your family. He was still in some ways responsible for the deaths, and if I recall didn't show the same guilt you are for it. Even though you have even less of a hand in his death than he did in your families."

"How do you do that?" Alys asks, looking over at him.

"Do what?" He inquires.

"Make things better," she says.

He smirks, and remarks, "natural talent, my mere presence makes everything better."

Alys rolls her eyes but she can't disagree, at least when it comes to her own comfort around him. "I mean, whenever I'm teetering on the edge of true despair you always manage to make it all make sense. To pull me back."

He shrugs, "I just state the facts."

"Somehow that seems like something one wouldn't expect from you," she says.

"Are you calling me a liar?"

"I was always told all southerners, Lannisters especially, were liars." She jokes and he laughs now.

"Well you're right about that," he smiles, "All a great game of lies and deception down here in the south. I'm sure it makes the North seem quite simple."

"Greatly so," She nods, "I miss that simplicity. The most lying I had to worry about in Winterfell was lying about in the snow."

Jaime laughs again before sighing, "all right, your rising guilt over a death you had no hand in over… ask away with your questions. I'll tell you all I know of the battle."

"My brother?" it was the foremost issue in her mind.

"Alive," Jaime tells her and she smiles and releases a relieved breath. "And uninjured by all accounts. It seems of the rebel army the northerners fared the best in the battle." He studies her and adds, "already there are reports that at least your brothers forces have started this way."

"This way…" She repeats staring at the fire rather than at Jaime.

"Yes," Jaime confirms, his gaze still pressing upon her. "It seems your only weeks away from rescue should things go well." His voice is strained, likely at the thought of what will occur in those coming weeks. In the battle that will surely come, which strikes her odd. She'd think he'd be full of excitement at the thought of finally being able to fight in this war. A few weeks back when Rhaegar left for the Trident he had been desperate for it.

She glances at him now, and wonders faintly if something has changed.

The queen is leaving for Dragonstone. Alys learns this when she joins the Tyrells for lunch.

They're leaving too actually, but not to go with their queen. Mina needs to return in order to begin planning her wedding to Paxtor Redwyne with her mother, and Alerie bemoans that she misses her children. She's visiting her husband first as well, to wish him well as he sieges Storms End.

They're being cautious, that's what Alys deduces. Possible even scared. Though they hide it as well as they hide everything else. Regardless it's clear enough to Alys as they talk with her about how they hope she'll come visit Highgarden when the war is finished that they are nervous.

Rhaegars death has made all of Kings Landing on edge it seems.

Because the Queen is leaving for Dragonstone with little Prince Viserys in tow.

And apparently, according to Alerie, with another little one on the way.

The king is being cautious, or afraid, or both. Regardless he's sending them away because by now a few things are quite clear.

One that the war is coming for Kings Landing. A thing none of the court had anticipated it seems, as they had from the beginning assumed the rebellion would be ended swiftly and far away. But now that isn't what the court anticipates. Now the court is preparing for siege it seems.

The other thing that seems to have become clear is that the Targaryens are on a very precarious edge now.

Because they can, clearly, be killed.

Because Rhaegar has been killed.

Alys is actually happy that the queen and her son are being moved. She might not be fond of the queen, but she doesn't wish for a child, and an unborn one if Alerie is to be believed, to be harmed in the chaos that comes with an attack on Kings Landing.

As such Alys is alarmed when she learns later in the day that Elia and her children are not also returning to Dragonstone.

Elia seems equally alarmed at it. Worried over what will happen to her children.

"He wants to keep Dorne from rushing to the rebels side," Elia states, rocking Aegon lightly against her as he sleeps, his head pillowed on her shoulder. Alys glances towards Rhaenys where she plays with Balerion. "With Lewyn dead, and plenty of the Dornish soldiers who'd followed as well…" Elia's eyes were sad with the grief, and Alys felt it lightly too. Both for Elia's own pain and for Lewyn, who Alys had been fond of.

"He's worried."

"That's all anyone is around here now." Elia sighs, running a gentle hand over Aegons back. "I'm worried." She says.

"From what I've heard it's my brother heading this way." Alys offers, "he won't hurt you or the children. That's not the kind of man he is."

"And Robert?" Elia asks, her dark eyes meeting Alys's grey. "I've heard he's declared himself king. He won't want threats to his rule around." Her voice is strained, worried, and Alys glances away a second.

"I… I only know Robert sparingly," Alys admits looking back to Elia again, "but… but he's counseled by Ned and by Jon Arryn. My brother is honorable, and Jon Arryn has always seemed to be as well."

"Hopefully," Elia sighs, sad and worried and in a way that makes Alys's heart ache so she reaches over and grasps Elia's free hand and squeezes.

"Even if Jon isn't as honorable," Alys offers, mostly nothing because she has very little to offer, "he won't want to anger Dorne. Harming you or your children would be stupid. And from the times I've met Jon Arryn he's certainly not stupid."

Elia smiles, though it's barely there. "Thank you, Alys, for trying to comfort me."

"It's the least I can do." She says, "and if there is more I can do, I will."

Elia nods and Alys squeezes her hand again before looking to where Rhaenys plays again, the little girl chasing the black cat about the balcony as though the entire kingdom wasn't holding its breath for what came next.

Jaime

The king retires early the day he sent Queen Rhaella and Prince Viserys sailing towards Dragonstone. The man, upon learning of Rhaegars death, has only gone madder if Jaime was asked. He eyed everyone with suspicion and when news of Tywins forces moving their way he eyes Jaime especially like he has the answer to whether his father will declare for or against the royals upon arrival at the city gates.

The thing is Jaime doesn't bloody well know. If he's honest it could up end either way.

Though if he were in his fathers position he would back the rebels.

On a tactical front it makes more sense, they just got a win that many are believing to have been the deciding win. Rhaegar was dead, Aerys is mad, and any other Targaryen options for king are too young to be of much help. To join the royalists over the rebels would be a dangerous gamble seeing as all signs point to the end of the current royal regime.

On a more personal front, for Jaime at least, he can only think of the relief upon Alys's face when he told her that her brother was unscathed from the battle. As well as the smallest light of hope at the knowledge that Ned Stark was heading her way.

It's rather confusing for him. And worrying.

Because the king is only getting more unstable since the Trident.

He whispers with Rossart constantly, and Jaime has seen the Pyromancers flitting about the keep and out into the city on the daily.

Planting wildfire. He heard the plan himself, sort of. Caches of wildfire in strategic spots so that only one need go off to send the whole damn city ablaze.

Jaime, however proud and fearless he is, is damn terrified of it coming to that.

Not that he can do anything about it.

He's a Kingsguard, his duty is to the king and the king wants the bloody city to go to flames rather than let the rebels take it over and let Robert Baratheon sit his ass upon his throne.

Jaime's still terrified, and worried and he's particularly worried over Alys. Because how cruel would that be, for her to get so close to freedom and family only to go up in an almighty explosion of green flame.

So, when the king retires early and a retinue of gold cloaks arrive to take over for the evening, Jaime finds his way to where Alys sits out on a balcony in the gardens. The Stark girl enjoying the light of the setting sun as she gazes out over the Blackwater.

"Fancy a swim?" He inquires, leaning along the balcony beside her, the entire vision of calm because he doesn't want her seeing through to his worry like she so often does. An ability he doesn't quite understand how she has.

"A swim?" She asks, a bit of laughter in her eyes as she studies him.

He nods, he'd already changed into a lighter shirt and pants. "Come on." He motions her alongside him, and he leads her through the keep to a wall near the Great Hall where he pushes it lightly. "Pay attention now, this is a quicker path to a beach outside the keep." He leads her through, "the little Rhaenys might enjoy it sometime, I know you and the Princess Elia go swimming with her on occasion."

"Dipping our feet in more like," Alys states, and he can feel her eyes studying him even in the darkness of the paths. He doesn't struggle much with it, and explains the route as he goes through the turns and declines.

And soon enough there is a light at the end of the stone paths.

They emerge out onto a rocky patch of land still a bit higher than the beach, but he leads her carefully down a slightly more worn out path until they reach sand. "Quite hidden," she remarks, glancing about the area.

It was rather hidden, a small alcove of a beach where Jaime knows a few better smugglers occasionally dock. Gold cloaks try to go through regularly to check for such folk, but it's still a good spot because of its privacy and difficulty in reaching.

"Well, I imagine us being seen enjoying some sun and water would be quite the fuel for rumors," he informs as an excuse with a wave of the hand, "saving you some more questions of virginity upon your brothers arrival." She eyes him, grey eyes that see far too deep in him he thinks, but seems to let it drop with a shake of her head before she walks closer to the water.

She slips her shoes off and lifts her skirts enough so she can keep them relatively dry as she steps into the water. She stands there a few moments, a gentle smile to her face as the slow waves lap around her ankles. Eventually she glances back his way and raises a brow, "well? You were the one who recommended this, are you going to join me?"

He smirks, "fine, fine." He waves his hand before slipping his own boots off, rolling his pants up to his knees he walks into the water himself, the cool water rushing in around his legs as he does. He sees Alys fussing with her skirts until she's tied the loose fabric enough so it won't fall into the water, though some of the edges are already wet from the waves.

She peers his way as well, as he joins her, and after a few moments of the pair of them simply standing amongst the lapping waves she lifts the foot closest to him and kicks. It sends a spray of water up his side and he gasps and glares.

"Very rude, Lady Alys," he tsks his tongue, turning to face her hands on hips and giving a glare in his best impression of a disapproving septa from his childhood.

"Perhaps," She shrugs, and then kicks the water again, sending more up his front. She laughs after, a musical sound that echoes just lightly around the cove.

"I'm much bigger than you remember, you're picking the wrong sort of fight." She smiles, though she attempts slightly to straighten her face as she steadily starts to stealth back away from him. "Ah, ah, ah." He shakes his head and leans enough down to put his hand through the water, "don't back away, you'll only make it all worse."

She turns then, moving awkwardly and slowly through the water back towards the beach just as he whips his hand through the clear waters, sending a much large spray up her away. It hits her along the back, and she scrunches her shoulders from the feeling before laughing and turning in the water to send her own spray back his way.

Jaime grins, enjoying the distraction of simple play much more than he thought. He hadn't planned much in regards to what they would do down here. He just wanted to show her the way to it. But he certainly was having fun. Which, considering his days and what was to come, was a very welcome thing.

They race about the shallow waters, splashing each other and getting well soaked in the process. Jaimes hair is dripping and likely looking rather brassy from it while Alys's dress is getting heavier as the skirts get more water thrown into them.

Eventually, after several minutes of back and forth she's bound a bit further and slips. Jaime's close enough to her that he reaches out and grabs her, his arm wrapping about her waist. It pulls him down as well, but he'd pulled her so it was his back landing in the water with her on top of him.

The sun had set further, painting the sky in a pink and orange hue while the final rays of sun shined down onto the waters. It all leant well to Alys, the sun at a point where it framed her head like a golden crown as she pushed herself up slightly from where she'd landed upon him. One of her hands was bracing on his chest as she did and some instinct in him that he couldn't pinpoint grabbed it with his own. Only a second, before he blinked and forced himself up, forced himself to focus on the unpleasantness of the situation rather than the pleasant parts.

The water soaking his back, the sand finding its way into his clothes. The slowly dropping temperature as the sun dipped away.

Not the still present smile on Alys's face from the remnants of their laughter. Not the light smell of her hair as it fell down by his face. Not the warmth that came from the points where her body was touching his.

He pulled them up, swallowing hard. "Are you okay?" Alys asks, eyes as gentle as always that makes him nod.

"Landed on a shell I think, or a rock." He shrugs, and trudges through the water until he's made it to the beach.

"Are we heading back?" She asks, and he doesn't think he's imaging the light disappointment to her voice. Though it's likely because at least out here it's slightly freer, no walls or guards or mad kings in this little beach.

"It's getting late," he remarks.

"Can we sit for a second," she asks. "Just till the suns set all the way?"

He glances at the horizon, estimating another ten or so minutes before its entirely gone. When he looks to Alys he can't help but nod, and follow suit when she plops upon the sand her knees pulled to her chest and arms resting upon it as she watched the sun dip lower.

Jaime joins her, after another second of shaking his thoughts free. Sitting beside her close enough that their arms are flush against each other. Still warm, and pleasant the way it had been in the water and at night when she always curled against his arm in sleep.

"Thank you," She says after a few moments of just the sound of lapping waves. "This was nice."

"Yes," he says, "well… I had an unpleasant day."

She glances at him, and again her damned grey eyes must be seeing far too deep in a way that makes Jaime want to shift upon the sand. He doesn't, just continues staring in the direction of the sunset, even as she leans further against him. Her head lightly coming to a rest against his shoulder and bringing more warmth than the last rays of sun could manage.

Thank you for reading and for your comments! I really appreciate them every time i get one! The sack of Kings Landing is coming and I'm very excited to get that all written out and for what comes after. You can always find me on tumblr at a-song-of-quill-and-feather.