Eddard I
Eddard looked over the broken body of Robert Baratheon, the body recovered by some of his faithful knights during the retreat on the Trident. His hand formed a fist. If only… if only… I was there. Eddard drowned in a wave of guilt. He swore to fight for Robert. If he had been there, he would have fought besides Robert until the very end. Until the bitter end. But the chaos of the battle split the two apart. The last moments they saw each other flashed back in Eddard's mind.
Robert was fighting some Dornish lord, his hammer smashing and crunching through bone and metal like a god of war. Eddard fought besides him, his bannermen fighting with him through the muck and the river. Sweating and bleeding, Robert smiled like a madmen, the fury and joy of battle upon him. He was always the better fighter, with that monstrous iron hammer of his Eddard could barely lift. Eddard heard horns wildly sounding to his left - the Reachmen were fording the river. Robert finished mangling the Dornishman's head in with one final sweep of his hammer.
Eddard turned towards the river. The golden rose of House Tyrell flying above the army, the knights of the Reach were thundering towards the Northern battle-lines. Robert turned towards the Stark. "You meet those knights. Their horses won't be able to charge properly through the mire." He pointed his warhammer towards the distance, Eddard could make out a knight on horseback, his armor sable-black and his helm like a dragon. "I will kill that worm and put an end to this," Rob said as he made his way over, rallying his men to force his way up. "Good luck, brother." Eddard wished him. They never saw each other again. He died like he lived, warring and whoring. But that was little consolation to Eddard. He looked over Robert's body. The maesters had tried to hide his wounds before the burial, but the Stark could still make out the outline of where Rhaegar had stabbed straight through his chest.
"I failed him. I failed my brother." Robert was as much family to him as Rickard had ever been. Hell, they were raised together in the Vale. Eddard remembered their days as wards together under Jon Arryn as clearly as he remembered yesterday. Jon Arryn was a second father to him. And now that his true father was dead - Jon was his own father. A strange family, they made, but one which whose bonds were stronger than steel. And now Robert was… dead… dead by Rhaegar's hand.
Rhaegar. Eddard's hand formed into a fist as his hands shook with rage. The prince had stolen and raped his sister, and now had killed his brother on the field. The king had killed his father and killed his trueborn brother. If only Ed was there. Hee would have killed Rhaegar with his bare hands and crushed his head in until it cracked and his blood turned the Trident red and his black heart stopped its beating. As far as he was concerned, the only good dragon was a dead dragon. If there was any justice in this world, whatever gods there were would surely grant him that.
The Stark felt a calm hand on his shoulder. "Eddard…"
Jon Arryn stood there, his watery blue eyes full of grief. His light brown hair was turning grey, and Eddard noticed lines on his face that he had not noticed before.
"I know how you feel, Eddard." The childless Jon spoke in his somber and calming voice. "We have lost our king, but I have also lost a son." Jon sighed. "I am getting old, Ed. I have seen too many men die. Madness has overtaken the realm. And to think, all of this… started by one prince."
Eddard's voice was full of rage. "I'll kill him, Jon. I swear I will do it by my own hand. I'll kill him just as he killed Robert." Jon sighed again.
"This isn't about us. Eddard. This is about the realm. This is about duty. You are the Lord Stark now." Jon gently rebuked him. "You have a duty to your House. You have a duty to your bannermen. They placed their honor on the line to defend House Stark when a Mad King called for your blood. When Aerys demanded your heads, I raised my banners to defend you two. Now that Robert is dead, they are fighting for you. We are fighting for you. The time for vengeance will come. But for now, do your duty. Lead your men."
Eddard flushed with shame. He was being selfish. This wasn't some quest for revenge against Rhaegar, or even a quest for revenge against Aerys. Jon is right. But how am I supposed to lead? My brother was raised to be the Stark in Winterfell, not me.
A chill entered the room in Harroway's Tower. It was there that they decided to set up their army after the retreat, a strategic town where they could regroup.
"We lost many men on the field, Jon. How, exactly, am I supposed to do my duty?"
The Arryn knowingly smiled. "Not all hope is lost. You will see."
The war council had begun.
Jon was seated at Eddard's right, and Hoster Tully to his left. The council was held in main hall of Harroway's tower. The rebel lords gathered around in a semicircle. Present were all the great lords of the North, along with their bannermen and sworn swords. All were dour-faced and dressed in their dark cloaks and furs. Lord Bolton gazed at Eddard with his eyes pale as moonstone as Lord Umber sharpened his blade. Fat Lord Manderly merely sat down, waiting, while the Mormonts were lead by Ser Jorah.
The lords of the Vale were present as well, knights in bright burnished armor, lead by Jon Arryn. Lords of the other houses of the Vale - Corbray and Royce - were there as well. Those lords who had answered Hoster Tully's call to arms were there as well, chief among them Lord Mallister. There were not as many as there could have been, as many of the riverlords swore allegiance to the crown when the rebellion broke out. Those few stormlords who did not remain south with Stannis grumbled amongst themselves. A fragile alliance, Robert the only thing holding them together. All of the men sat around a table with a map of the Riverlands on it, Jon Arryn stood up, addressing the assembled lords and knights. He cleared his voice.
"My lords, we have lost the battle, but we have not yet lost the war. We have taken losses, yes, but our forces are still strong. We might have another chance at victory."
Jon placed a letter on the table for all to see, with a red seal of the three-headed dragon prominently displayed. The royal seal.
"King Aerys has exiled Prince Rhaegar Targaryen from the realm. I can hardly see how Rhaegar will ever submit to this order. This means the crown has a new enemy to fight, one with a larger army. While the two dragons are fighting, we will strike, and strike hard." They murmured amongst themselves.
Rhaegar and Aerys fighting? It looks like the Mad King has finally cracked.
Lord Manderly raised his voice. "Then let us swear allegiance to Rhaegar. His is the largest host - we can swiftly put an end to the Mad King."
Fool. Swear allegiance to Rhaegar? The man who killed Robert Baratheon?
The handful of stormlords that remained loudly dissented, along with some others. Lord Grandison cried out "Stannis is Robert's heir. He is the grandson of Rhaelle Targaryen. The throne belongs to him by right of blood, if the Mad King and his spawn cannot rule." The Baratheon men concurred.
Lord Manderly gave a hearty laugh at that, his body shaking. "You jest. Robert was never the heir by blood, he fought for it with his hammer. Stannis is no king." He said with a spit.
Eddard raised his voice. "Stannis is holed up in Storm's End, besieged by the Tyrell armies. How can he lead us?" Stannis was all that his brother was not. An unsmiling lad, to all accounts, not one that would inspire great love in his people." The men in this room would fight for Robert Baratheon. But would anybody in this room die for Stannis?
Roose Bolton softly spoke "We never swore an oath to Stannis. We fought for Robert, not for House Baratheon."
"Aye." The lords said in agreement. Lord Grandison, incensed, stood up our of his chair and stormed out of the room. The rest of the men sworn to House Baratheon slowly followed him.
Eddard moved up to stop them. Jon placed a firm hand on Eddard's arm. "Let them walk. They'll be back" He assured Eddard. "Well, we just lost the stormlords." He whispered back. This caused a stir among the assembled lords. Lord Umber thundered out "What is to be done? Will we fight two dragons?"
Lord Manderly concluded "All that can be done is bend the knee to Rhaegar."
"The man who killed Robert Baratheon?" asked Lord Corbray.
"Our causes are the same now."
"If you want to lick Rhaegar's boot, be my guest, Lord Manderly."
"By the laws of men, Stannis is our king."
Chaos broke out in the room as voices were raised. Some stood for Stannis, others for Rhaegar. Some voices even called to sue for peace before Aerys. This alliance is crumbling. Forget Rhaegar and Aerys, we'll lose half of our men before battle if we keep this squabbling up.
Ethan Glover roared above the sound of the lords debating. "Silence!" Quiet fell over the council. He paced about the room as he spoke.
"The dragons fight each other." He scoffed. "Let them fight. Let them kill each other. Have you forgotten Brandon and Richard Stark? I saw them die. I watched… as they tied a noose around his neck. He strangled himself reaching for his sword, trying to save his brother. Him? They dressed him in his armor and the king's pyromancers lit a fire under him. He screamed for mercy as the wildfire torched him, and Aerys only laughed. We owe no loyalty to any Targaryen, not any longer. Aerys or Rhaegar? I say neither! The same blood runs through both of their veins. Their entire line is cursed with madness."
Lord Glover loosed his sword from its scabbard, raising it upwards.
"It was to Aegon's dragons that the North bowed to. The dragons are nothing but bones now. Why shouldn't we rule ourselves again? The kings play their games using us as pawns. What do we owe them? Nothing! There is only one king who I will bend my knee to. Only one king that I will die for. And his name is Eddard Stark: The King in the North!"
The King in the North? No… I couldn't be king…
In turn, Jason Mallister stood to his feet. "My brother was killed by the cruel hand of Aerys. Many of you here have lost men to the mad king's wrath. Let us avenge ourselves against the dragons! Let us bow to no Targaryen ever again! The King in the North!"
Brynden Tully rose from his seat, unsheathing his sword. "My lords. Shall we scrape ourselves down before the dragons? No! I will have one king, The King in the North!"
Jon Arryn looked over at Eddard, a gleam in his eyes. Do your duty. Lead them.
Lords, one by one, stood up, unsheathing their swords. Lords of the North, lords of the Riverlands, and even the lords of the Vale. Raising their blades, they as one took up the cry which had not been heard in almost three hundred years -
"The King in the North!"
"The King in the North!"
"THE KING IN THE NORTH!"
Hiya again! Just a note for the future, since the last few chapters came out in quick succession. I release the chapters as soon as I finish writing them. I'm not sure how long it'll take for me to write the next few ones, I might be a bit busy. Just wanted to let you guys know. Anyways, tell me if you liked it! ~ Moradhel