A/N: RE-UPLOADED! For those of you who have read the previous uploaded chapter, you have read my notes. Basically, a version of how this story is gonna go. I spoiled you, I'm sorry! I uploaded this at 4am and have been cross eyed by the time I did. So, yeah. If you read it, it was a draft. This is the real one. Hopefully I can make justify it in the future. That last bit was waaaaay down the road. If I don't change my mind about how this story is going to go. Anyway, comment and let me know what you think.
Disclaimer: Game of Thrones is not mine.
Summary: When Ned finally told Catelyn about Jon Snow's mother, he had not expected for things to turn out the way they did in the end. It was so unfortunate that Robert had been smarter than Ned ever thought he was. AU.
ROBERT
Robert read through scroll after scroll that Yayne gave him. Each more distressing than the other.
His bannermen's reports from the frontlines against Tywin have been a stream of losses, their armies forced to take defensive measures while losing ground inch by inch. Tywin has employed his tactics that earned him the Rains of Castamere, reminding Robert who won the throne for him. Robert could only grit his teeth whilst writing orders after orders of how to prevent him from advancing even further. He had sent both Renly and Stannis out to the frontlines, hoping to bolster any sort of hope in his men with both Baratheon brothers in their midst. Robert had given them more men to lead, more lands to cover, more castles to take as strongholds, but there wasn't much he could do from the safety of the capital. He needed to be there to give these orders to his men himself. He needed to be there to fight with his own hands.
But he couldn't leave. Not yet. Not when the city had just attempted to tear itself apart. Not when he isn't sure Jon would be safe. Since he took the throne in earnest, Robert could barely spare a time to visit Jon. He worked fucking hard, day to night and barely slept, if at all. Robert counseled and convened with useless noblemen and other fools, reassure them and promised pointless words to keep them safe.
White lies, Robert thought. Lies all the same.
But Tywin Lannister's war is the least of their worries. Yayne had informed whatever remained of the council that the North had mobilized in earnest. They are no longer waiting and watching Robert's war with the Lannisters, they are coming for blood themselves. Tales of an armada nearly twice as massive as the crown's is sailing for Pyke. The Ironborn will be slaughtered as cut-off as they were from their allies. Robert is disgusted with himself that he even considered them as such.
Thinking about his past decisions, Robert is disgusted with himself for a lot of reasons.
But Varys has promised Robert a stalemate with the Starks. Their scheme seemed to have been taken in bad form by Ned's son. The response of one of the boy's bannermen in Riverrun wrote them an excessively crude letter that Robert would've found it hilarious if it wasn't so aggravating. Robert had employed the Spider's full attention on this matter. Stalling Ned's advance is in everyone's best interest. Most especially Jon's. Varys will see to it that they understand that the game has changed. But Robert didn't think there was any way to stop them from coming for the Iron Islands. Their way is the old way, and justice is served with the stroke of their own swords. The Starks were betrayed. Ned and his son will come for Theon Greyjoy. Even the Spider cannot save them. So, they won't try.
Pyke's fate is sealed.
The Northern armies marching and sailing for Pyke has given Tywin limited paths for his. It slowed him from amassing his armies to head straight for the capitol. It's a small advantage but an advantage all the same. It bought them the time they desperately needed. Tyrion has assured him that the preparations are nearly complete. Soon, Robert will gain back his allies and this war can go to seven hells. The board will reset and the game will be replayed once more. Robert intends to come out of this alive with all those he gained with him.
"Your Grace, Lady Margaery Tyrell will reach the capitol in six days. Her caravan is delayed by her constant curiosity of the people she met on her journey I believe." Yayne commented, setting aside the scroll he just read. He didn't even try to hand the scroll over to the king, knowing full well it didn't warrant any sort of importance other than a passing thought. "Curious girl, if I may say so."
Robert scoffed. If only it was that simple. The Tyrells have always wanted to tie themselves closer to the crown. They had their eyes set on Cersei's sadistic bastard before Robert made it clear he wanted a Stark girl for a future queen. They simmered back to wherever shit hole they came from, bidding their time. But now, they've grown impatient and the Queen of Thorns has grown bolder. The Rose of Highgarden is rumored to be a beauty incomparable to any other maid in Westeros. Robert would not doubt it. Highborn powerful, young women are usually a great beauty to any fool who hasn't seen their way through a woman's ass.
"Prepare her chambers." Robert commanded tiredly, chucking the scroll he had in his hand. "Make it as far away from Jon as possible."
Yayne looked bemused but complied. "Yes, Your Grace."
"Is there anything else?" Robert asked impatiently, itching to leave. He wanted to visit Jon before he retired to bed. He hasn't spoken to him in days.
"I was wondering, if Your Grace wouldn't take offense, what you were planning to tell the Starks about these new… developments?" Yayne timidly broached.
Robert paused. He hasn't considered what he could possibly say for Ned to believe him when even Robb Stark had called it all horseshit. He saw the way his own council reacted to his plans, the way their eyes followed him as if he had lost all his fucking wits. Except for Varys. Varys salivated over the idea of making Jon Snow a prince. But maybe Robert had lost all of his wits. Maybe this is madness. Maybe this is what it feels like to slowly lose all reason. Robert wouldn't be the first king to lose his mind. He had gone to war against one. But it didn't feel wrong either.
Then again, killing Rhaegar Targaryen's other two children didn't feel wrong either. Maybe that was the true madness.
Robert shivered, extracting himself from his thoughts. "Have Tyrion draft me a letter. We will discuss it in the Small Council tomorrow."
Yayne finally bowed. "As you wish, Your Grace. I shall take my leave."
"Very well." Robert rumbled absentmindedly, shuffling papers for the maester to take with him as he got up to leave. He waited for a few more seconds before rising himself, his Kingsguard following in tow. He made his way through the eerie stillness of the night, thoughts running in his mind. The only thought that had been preoccupying him in all his spare moments lately since coming back to King's Landing.
They have lost track of Jon's attempted assassination. It ran cold the night it happened but Robert had believed that he could gain answers from the witnesses. They saw nothing and heard nothing save for the sound of a bolt firing and Jon falling to the ground. But the peasants whispered among themselves, their eyes wandering as they exchanged those hidden truths or lies, and Robert had angrily demanded all them be questioned until they heaved, until truth bled out of them. But he had nothing. Not even Varys had anything. It was as if whoever had done it had been a ghost. A Faceless man.
Robert vehemently assumed it was Cercei. The Lannister had the gold and they had the connections. Littlefinger left the crown with a hefty sum of debt to the Iron Bank that the Lannisters had been steadily paying for until they didn't. Until even their own coffers were bled dry of gold. It wouldn't be impossible to convince the Braavosi bankers to eliminate Jon. But why Jon? Why not Robert himself? It wouldn't have been hard considering he was neck-deep in the warfront. Accidents happen when you're fighting in a goddamn war. Why not kill him instead and reinstate the Lannisters' power on the Iron Throne?
Tyrion was right. It wasn't his family. Tywin would not waste such an opportunity over Jon Snow. It's not in their best interest to make enemies with the North either. This was something else. But who? Who else is playing the game? The shadows may hide them for now but he would find them. And when he does, Robert would cleave their fucking heads off.
He reached Jon's doors and gave a nod of acknowledgement to Barristan who stationed himself to guard for the night. He ordered the Kingsguard behind him to open them and to stay with his Commander.
Robert entered alone. He padded quietly into the chambers, expecting Jon to be asleep. But to his surprise, he saw the boy was still awake. Jon was in bed, reading a book in the dim candlelight. Well, he didn't look to be reading but staring blankly on its page.
"Jon?" Robert called softly. The young man jumped, his eyes scanning for danger until he saw Robert. He could see Jon force himself to relax, his jaw flexing as it clenched.
"Your Grace." Jon greeted with a small bow. His eyes strayed to Robert's chest.
"I see you are taking your lessons to heart, reading at this hour." Robert commented. The first full sentence he had said to Jon in a long while. "Yayne is singing your praises."
"I am flattered the maester thinks so." Jon answered formally. Robert wanted to sigh but he made himself be a little more patient. Jon was still healing.
"I wish to speak with you about something important." Robert said as he took a seat next to the bed.
"What about, Your Grace?" Jon asked blankly. He shut his book quietly and Robert saw that it was a book about the Starks. Robert pitied him but said about it nothing for now.
"I will send your family a missive tomorrow morning regarding your health." Robert began. Jon's eyes snapped to look at his. "I'm sure Tyrion has told you that they are marching for the Iron Islands and will begin fighting their own war soon."
Jon inhaled sharply. "No, he didn't. Tyrion hasn't visited me today. Ser Bronn told me he was busy with matters to the crown. Your Grace."
Robert nodded, grimacing. "Of course. I assumed that he visited you. Apologies. Robb Stark marches through the Riverland and will sail for the Iron Islands in a few days' time. He is accompanied by scores of the North and Riverrun's bannermen along with their allies from Dorne. Ned will follow when he arrives from the Wall. I don't know when that will be."
Jon looked distraught for a moment until he forcibly controlled his emotions leaving only an unfathomable look. He took a steady breath before looking back to Robert fully meeting his eyes.
Good lad, Robert thought, jaw clenching. You're learning.
"Thank you for telling me about my family, Your Grace." Jon said, hiding back behind courtesy. A well-crafted armor. "I pray the fighting ends soon."
Robert sighed. "As do I. Is there anything you wish to let them know? I will have my Hand include it in the missive."
Jon gaped at him as if he had two heads. Robert had honestly only thought about it on the whim but now that he offered, it felt like this is something he could do for Jon. If the boy misses his family, then Robert will be damned if he didn't find a way to have just a little piece of them to give back to him. Lyanna would have wanted that for Jon. She trusted Ned with her son for a reason.
"Is this a trick?" Jon whispered horribly.
"No, Jon, listen—"
Jon shook his head angrily. "I don't want to play this game. You don't get to use me against my family—"
"I'm not trying to use you!" Robert shouted and Jon inched away. Robert sighed. "I want to give you a chance to speak with them."
"Speak with them?" Jon asked, voice colored in disbelief.
"Don't repeat me, boy." Robert grounded out. He pointed at the book. "You miss them, it's plain to see. I can't send you home but I can give you something from home."
"In exchange for what?" Jon asked suspiciously, regaining his composure.
"Nothing. This is not a trick." Robert said firmly but calmly. "What would like to say to them?"
Jon considered him while Robert stayed absolutely still. The boy is right to be wary and Robert would commend him if it didn't chafe so much. Jon didn't trust him but Robert will ensure that will change.
Jon took a few deep breathes before saying, "Just tell them I miss them."
Robert nodded. "I will. I'll have Tyrion tell you what they say in return."
This time, it was Jon who nodded. "Thank you, Your Grace."
Robert got up to leave. "Sleep well, Jon."
He didn't wait for a reply before he strode out of the chambers, feeling as if he accomplished something. This was only the beginning. Robert will prove it.