The Crown

5 years previously

Ned

The throne room had been cold that morning, the grey mist which shrouded the harbour seemed to ease through stained glass windows chilling the small gathering to the bone. The torches had been lit that morning and yet their fires still did not seem to penetrate Ned's skin. The King and Queen however seemed unperturbed. They were Targaryens of course. Their blood was fire, and the King himself had grown up at the wall where, Ned as a boy was told that not even dragon fire could warm your bones. Ned had grown up in King's landing, fostered from a boy by the King, his uncle. A false technicality and yet his mother insisted all the same that he was to be called Uncle Jon in close contact, and your grace in court. The King was a hard man, a seasoned warrior, but fair. He had always been fair. He had raised Ned's own father from bastardy because he had proved himself loyal in the Battle for the dawn. Ned had been born only a few years after the war and the ascension. His mother, a Stark of the North had, despite her outward protests, married his father on the bequest of the King. His mother had always told Ned that the King wanted his favourite sister close to him and as Arya had been childhood friends with Ned's father she had given in to the protests. The King was of course her favourite brother. They weren't brother and sister though and it wasn't until Ned's tenth name day that the King in his solar had explained the story. Smuggled as a babe into the north by his uncle, Ned's namesake Eddard Stark, the Lord of Winterfell. Proclaimed to be Jon Snow, Ned Stark's bastard, the King had been brought up in Winterfell, and when Eddard Stark had ridden south to fulfil his duty as hand of the King, to Ned's grandfather Robert Baratheon, Jon Snow had ridden north to the wall. It wasn't until many years later, after meeting Daenerys Targaryen that Jon Snow had been told by the seer Brandon Stark about his true parentage. Battles were then fought and Jon Snow had ascended the throne with his wife and their names were now the most famous in all history.

At the age of 6 and 10 Ned had been betrothed to the Princess Lyanna, a girl of 3 and 10 who was all limbs and mouth. Ned had not been impressed. He remembered the arguments all too well with his Lord father and Lady Mother.

"She is the heir to the crown Eddard, it is a good match and you will be grateful that your Uncle, the King has made such a match" His mother had said firmly as she had stared out wistfully to the grey waves lapping against Storm's End.

"Exactly you make your point mother, my uncle has betrothed his daughter to me! She is my cousin!"

His father usually quiet had lost his temper then. "I swear to god boy I will clout you so hard if you continue this damned nonsense. You'll marry the girl on when she turns 8 and 10 and you'll do your damned duty."

"You speak of duty, my Lord as if you understand what it is" Ned had spat, his fists clenched "You were nought but a bastard on the streets of flea bottom before the King granted you your usurping father's titles"

Ned had been sent North for that. The very next day his mother had woken him and instructed him tersely that he would said for white harbour and then onto Winterfell by day break.

"The cold will do you good" Lady Arya Baratheon had muttered. "Get your priorities straight. I do not wish to fight Ned, but you are being immature about the whole thing"

Ned had shrugged sullenly "You never wanted any of this though. You didn't want to be a lady in a high castle. You wanted to be knight. As do I. I don't want a wife, princess or not."

His mother had smiled up at him ruefully and had cupped his face lovingly. "Oh, my boy, I always wanted your father, and that's why it works. Perhaps you will never want the princess as I wanted your father, but she will make you happy, she is kind and fierce. I would never send you off with some drip of a girl. But for now, go north, learn of your grandfather, learn of the north. One day you will help rule that vast realm. I shall see you within the year. Be kind to your Aunt, she can be formidable."

Ned's father had not seen him off, only his mother, dressed in riding leathers her dark hair blowing in the wind. Ned had wondered whether his mother wished to go with him, to her home. Alas he never found out.

The year at Winterfell had been hard. He had been drilled for battle from day break to days end every day by the infamous grizzly Jamie Lannister. The North had been his place of exile after the war with his bastard daughter Joanna Waters. It had taken Ned a while to understand the situation with Jamie Lannister, until one night in the great hall whilst he sat next to the blonde-haired beauty Joanna had explained her father.

"He has been Lady Stark's lover for as long as I have known. My sister Catelyn was raised from a bastard as a present from the King on her first name day. But Lady Stark will never marry my father even though they oft share a bed more than not."

"My aunt does not treat you like a daughter then?" Ned had asked stupidly and Joanna had snorted into her wine.

"Good god no, I am the daughter of a terrible woman, the Mad Queen who murdered most of the Starks way back when the usurper ruled and my mother was Queen. She tolerates my presence only for my father's pleasure. I think that she hopes that winter will come and take me, but I've lasted so far. She resents her brother the King for allowing me to live here I think." Joanna Rivers had drained her cup quickly and had stood flirtatiously before Ned on that particular night, and he had been infatuated with Kingslayers's bastard daughter since that night for the duration of his stay at Winterfell.

Joanna Rivers had taken his virginity swiftly from him within weeks of him arriving and they had been infatuated with each other for a good part of the year, that was until she was sent away to Bear Island to serve Lady Mormont. Ned had suspected Catelyn Stark had had something to do with it. Many an occasion the heir to Winterfell had wondered haphazardly in on them fucking like rabbits. Whilst she had never said anything Ned could distinctly see the sly glances she would give to her mother. The day Joanna had departed for Bear Island, Ned had received the first raven from King's Landing. From Lyanna.

At that point Ned still had no wish to marry the girl and he had shared this only with Ser Jamie who had only smiled grimly and patted him on the back and offered consoling noises. Lyanna and Ned's correspondence had been polite, she would update him on the adventures of her brother Daeron, who was a childhood friend of Ned and Ned would update her on the goings on at Winterfell. After 2 months Ned looked forward to hearing from the Princess, after 6 he longed for her words of news, snippets into a life that he was bound to. Lyanna had been on a progress through Dorne with her father, she had been sent to the reach to learn of the Dothraki culture her mother the Queen so favoured, she would speak of her sailing lessons and archery, and soon her responses were quick witted even humorous. On the anniversary of the battle for the dawn Winterfell had been abuzz with celebration and mourning and whilst Ned had trained with the Wildling Tormund a dark shadow had flown over the castle and the Princess had arrived in a flurry of summer snow. Tormund knocked Ned flat on his back as Lyanna watched standing amongst her guard, which included her brother Daeron and Ned had cursed himself into oblivion for being so struck with a girl, who once long ago he wanted to refuse.

Now the eve before the marriage Ned stood looking up to the King and Queen, sitting god like in their marble carved thrones, adorned with jewels and armour. The remanence of their conquest a melted iron carpet upon the stone steps.

Even at four and forty Queen Daenerys was still beautiful. Her long silvery hair piled atop her head and fasted by her heavy ruby encrusted crown. Her violet eyes measured, with a hint of fondness. Her silks and velvets were bound heavily with leathers from neck to ankle and Ned knew that she was the most formidable woman he had ever met. His mother's words had echoed in his head. "They were impossible to defeat, Daenerys with her dragons, and Aegon with his Valyrian sword. They were and always will be the true eminence of House Targaryen. Fire and Blood"

The King's hand Tyrion Lannister was reading from a scroll but Ned did not listen. He stared at the man who would as of tomorrow by his father by law. That hardened face, which rarely smiled. His greying grisly hair the only proof of his Targaryen heritage and the scars which ran across his face the remanence of the wars he had fought in and won. There had always been mutters about the King. The Queen of course was magic in her own right. Lyanna had told him as much. She could not be burned.

"It was how she came to lead the Dothraki. She set the Khals aflame and emerged unscathed. It was how she became the mother of dragons."

The King however. Whispers in the dark about betrayal at the wall. Ned had seen the scars only once. When the king had visited Storm's End when Ned was child and he had swum in the sea with Daeron and the twins. It was a rare moment to see the King smile but Ned had been fascinated by the angry red scars which marred his body. Before Ned could open his mouth however he had been sent away by a wary mother. IN the North Ned had heard more rumours, mainly form wildlings claiming that he was a god reborn, even some going so far as to say that Ned's 'woman' would never be Queen, only because her Papa had already met death once and would not again.

The King and Queen rose to their feet and descended the steps and Ned pulled his mind from his many musings and sank to one knee. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Lyanna in the gallery, her hands twisting with nerves.

"Eddard of House Baratheon" The King said clearly, his accent lilted with the North. "From this day I King Aegon the sixth of my name"

"And I" The Queen presented "Queen Daenerys the first of my name"

"Do grant you and any heirs male of your body the titles of Lord of Dreadfort, Earl of Highgarden and Duke of Casterley"

The Valyrian steel was cold even through the fur lined cloak that Ned wore. The steel tapped both shoulders and then Ned rose taller than both monarchs. The King's hand grasped his firmly and a congratulations was whispered. Whilst Daenerys very delicately embraced her soon to be son by law. They departed swiftly and Ned's father clapped him on the shoulder "Well done" He muttered gruffly and followed the King and Queen. Ned's mother, he noticed was nowhere to be seen. It wasn't surprising, Arya Baratheon saw little importance in pomp and ceremony. Most like than not she would be with the younger ones telling them tales of battles or instructing on what she called water dancing. Making his way through the crown he met his future wife at the foot of the steps to the gallery.

"And?" She asked staring up through her violet eyes questioningly.

He cocked an eyebrow "You were there weren't you? I gave up my titles to the Stormlands, my career, my name and in return I get this" He gestured around the emptying hall. "The establishment."

Pursing her lips, Lyanna's eyes flashed dangerously "Or you win the greatest prize of the realm."

Ned shrugged hooking his thumbs onto his sword belt. Lyanna's face grew stony and solemn and, in that moment, Ned could see she truly was her father's daughter. He stepped closer and bent close to her ear.

"It's also what I think Princess." Glancing around to ensure that Lyanna's septa, or Lady Naarth were not in close proximity he drew her slim figure towards him and lay a chaste kiss on her lips. She gasped in surprise but relaxed into the kiss almost immediately. Gendry had seen her naked only once a few months previously after the end of the second rebellion. Lyanna had been injured atop her dragon, Ned had visited her in her rooms against the Maester's wishes. She had been bathing her bruised body and Ned had been unable to rid himself of the site ever since. IN only a day she would be his and he would finally be able to take that creamy skin in his arms.

"I'll see you tomorrow" Lyanna whispered, her fingers clutching at the fastenings of his furs.

"Aye, try and get some sleep" He brushed her blushing cheek."
"You too" She called as Ned strode away from her grasping the pummel of his sword.

He laughed and turned to her "I doubt it, your brother and I are heading into the city, sleep would be a gift not given."

If looks could kill, Ned would have been dead at the foot of the Targaryen thrones.