Silence. It was so dreadfully silent now. Now that Ned had left him alone, he was all alone with his thoughts. Dark thoughts. Pain. Sadness. Loss... Hatred. In a way he felt helpless as well. And if there was one thing that Robert Baratheon hated, then it was to feel helpless. He wasn't some weak willed fool. He was the king of the Seven Kingdoms. He had taken the throne from the thrice damned Targaryens by force, with his hammer in his hand. He had crushed the crown prince himself and taken his throne. He wasn't weak... but he was helpless.
"WINE! Bring me wine!" He roared. He needed a drink. The alcohol would take these dark thoughts away. Drown them in the slight buzzing and the warm feeling. But no one came. "WINE!" He yelled again. But none of the servants reacted. He realized that he had sent them all away. None were left to bring him his wine. "LANCEL!" He yelled for his squire. But even the young Lannister boy was nowhere to be found.
He slammed his fist down on the table, with enough force to crack the wooden surface. He may no longer be as able bodied as he had been in the past, but his strength had not diminished yet. Seeing the damage to the table gave him some satisfaction. He smirked... until his eyes found the note, which Ned had left behind on the table. Immediately his face lost all emotion and became a blank mask.
Jon... Jon is dead. Murdered. And Robert had no doubt who had done it. His true enemy was no more than a few hundred yards away right now. Some may believe that she was nothing more than a foolish young girl, hopelessly lost in a world ruled by more powerful men. But Robert saw what she truly was. Rhaenys Targaryen was his enemy. The greatest threat to his rule. A monster that only waited for the right moment to take everything away from him. Now she had taken Jon Arryn, his foster father. Who would come next? His son and heir? His brother? Stannis and Renly? Pah, he wouldn't even mourn the last two. There was no fondness, just duty when he though of his parents' other sons. But the Targaryens had already taken so much from him. All the people he held dear had died or are now threatened by the damned dragons.
He remembered it all too well. The hatred he felt, when he was informed that his parents had died on their ill-fated assignment for the Mad King. They had been taken from him, so the crown prince could have a bride, not that his parents work would have mattered. Aerys had already made other arrangements. His parents died for nothing, that enraged Robert.
Then they had dared to steal the woman he loved. His Lyanna. He had loved her so madly, ever since the first time he had laid eyes on her. But they took her as well. Rhaegar stole her. And the king had her brother and father killed, as if they were nothing more than common thieves. In the end Lyanna died as well, leaving him as a broken men, to rule the kingdoms he had never want. All he had wanted was her. He would never have her. The only woman he had ever truly wanted. None of the others could ever hope to compare to her.
And now they had taken his foster father. The man who had raised him. The man who had made him the man he is today. The one man who had tried to fill the void that his parent's death had left. Now he was dead. Murdered by that Targaryen whore.
All he had left now were Ned and his own children. And they were in danger as well. Why did Ned refuse to see this threat? Why would he insist on waiting, on allowing them the first move? No, he wouldn't wait and allow them to kill the last few people he cared for.
"Guards!" He yelled. This time there was an immediate reaction. Three heavily armored men entered. His Kingsguards. Lord Commander Barristan Selmy, Ser Meryn Trant and Ser Boros Blount. The only remaining members of his guard, who had remained here. The other four had gone with his wife, to guard her and the children. The women even had the gall to demand the he would send all of his Kingsguard with her! Oh how he hated her as well.
"You grace, how may we serve you?" Ser Barristan asked dutifully.
Robert scowled at first. He had hoped that Selmy would have left with the other knights and left some of his underlings behind. He really did not trust this man, though he had served him for so many years, ever faithful. But it was no secret that the man still had lingering loyalties from his time at the Mad King's court.
"Gather my men. Every loyal man with a strong sword arm. I will end this madness, once and for all." Robert barked angrily.
Ser Barristan looked disconcerted by this. He had obviously not expected that the king would dare to make such a bold move. He knew that there would be a war, but the situations was not really in the kings favor at the moment. Not to mention that there were still countless unarmed women and children on the tournament grounds. And he was not entirely sure whether he should fight against Rhaenys Targaryen... but duty would demand it of him... King Robert would demand it of him.
"Your grace, is that... wise?" Ser Barristan asked carefully.
Robert glared angrily at the Lord Commander, before he yelled, "Wise? Wise! You dare to question my orders? I should have known that your lingering loyalties to that whore would turn you into a traitor sooner or later."
"I remain loyal, your grace," Ser Barristan defended himself, "But what I meant, was that we currently have only a handful of men. For every trustworthy man you have in your employ, the Tyrells can field five at the moment. We would get slaughtered by them."
This seemed to calm the king, if only for a few short moments. Robert considered his Lord Commander's words. It was the undeniable truth. He had a hundred men at best, at least at such a short notice. And from what they had seen, the Tyrells had hired hundreds of household guards for this tournament.
"Damn them all to the seven hells and back!" The king cursed angrily. "She is within my grasp, the end of this cursed conflict is so close, yet I cannot strike!" It frustrated him to no end. He was sure that they were mocking him, right that moment. Laughing at him. Oh how he hated her. Rhaenys Targaryen! The gods had obviously chosen her to be the bane of his existence.
"Then get me the man Baelish has sent. His special... associate." Robert ordered. Ser Meryn nodded curtly, before he left the tent in search of the man. "And you," Now he looked at Ser Barristan once more, his eyes showing nothing but anger and distrust, "I do not want you here. Saddle your horse and follow my wife."
"But my place is with you, your grace. Your protection is my sworn duty."
"You already failed that duty to your last master, I don't expect you to be able to uphold your vow this time." Robert replied scathingly. "Or maybe your duty to the Mad King is not over yet? No matter, begone from my sight, before I decide that there is a new opening in my Kingsguard."
Robert knew that Barristan Selmy was an honorable man. One of the greatest knights that had remained after the bloody rebellion. But he was never sure, whether it was the right decision to pardon the man after the war. Of course Ned had welcomed this act of civility. But he couldn't be sure, whether the man would truly serve him or the rest of the deposed royal family. The closer they got to the real war, the less he could trust this man to uphold his oath and do his duty. At least not to him.
And even now, in this disrespectful dismissal, Ser Barristan merely looked passively at Robert. A calculating look maybe, one that was impossible to read though. How would he react to this?
"So I am dismissed, your grace?" Ser Barristan asked almost coldly.
"Begone from my sight."
With one sharp movement Ser Barristan turned around and left the tent at a fast pace, pushing past Ser Boros who showed his Lord Commander an ugly smirk. Robert really wondered how much influence the man really had on his fellow brothers of the Kingsguard, considering this sad display of gloating. And once more he wished that someone would finally get him some wine. He really needed a drink now.
But to his chagrin the next man to enter the tent was neither a servant, nor his squire, but Ser Meryn with the strange associate of Peter Baelish. The Master of Coin had sent this man with a glowing recommendation for... special purposes. But just looking at the man revealed that this was not an employee of Baelish's whorehouses. A man with a gaunt face and long hair, half red, half white. Not the most pleasant fellow to look at. No, it was obvious that this man had an entirely different purpose.
"No further. Kneel before your king," Ser Meryn growled, as the man approached Robert. The king noted with interest that his Kingsguard seemed to distrust this man entirely. Ser Meryn's hand was on the hilt of his sword, the entire time he was close. But the man complied and went down on one knee.
"This man feels honored by your summoning, your grace. But this man is curious why you have called for my service." Robert narrowed his eyes, annoyed by the way this man spoke, but he was also curious whether this man would be useful.
"Petyr Baelish sent you here, but what is your use? What is your profession?"
"Death. I offer names to the Many-Faced God," the man replied.
"An assassin. Your grace, allow me to get rid of this scum for you..." Ser Meryn said quickly, as he drew his sword and got ready to strike the man down.
"Stop," Robert commanded. He gestured for Ser Meryn to resheat his sword, his eyes never leaving the assassin before him. "You, what is your name?"
"This man has the honor to be called Jaqen H'ghar."
"My lord, this one is dangerous..." Ser Meryn tried again, but Robert wouldn't listen. Instead he was curious. An assassin, here of all places. Why would Baelish send such a man, when they had no intention to kill anyone when they came here? Had the Master of Coin foreseen the conflict that would start here?
"There is one that needs to die, can you do that?"
"For a price this man can give death to whoever you desire. Give me a name and my payment and you shall have that persons death." Jaqen replied.
"Rhaenys Targaryen. I want that whore dead. Sooner rather then later. Kill her and I will pay you generously."
"A princess, a possible queen even. Her death will be costly."
"It doesn't matter. Kill her and you shall be paid whatever you demand." Robert said.
"As you wish. The Many-Faced God will have his due." Jaqen replied, before he stood up and left the tent.
Robert watched the assassin leave, obviously pleased with his decision. If his assumption was right, then this man was one of the Faceless Men. That would mean that Rhaenys Targaryen would die without a doubt. But the price he would have to pay for this would be immense.
"Ser Meryn, when this man returns, kill him. I won't have such a man prance around unchecked, once he has done his duty for us." Robert ordered, before he stood up to get his wine by himself.
"Gladly, your grace." The knight replied, a cruel smirk on his lips.
Several hours passed before someone else came to interrupt Robert in his brooding. Ned had come back, a look of anger and disconcert on his face. He came with two of his guards, which was most unusual in Robert's opinion. Ser Meryn and Ser Boros immediately tensed when they saw the Warden of the North and his armed me.
"What is the meaning of this, Ned?"
"Have you truly done it?"
"Done what?"
"Don't try to fool me, Robert. I know you better than this. So is it true? Have you hired killers to get rid of the girl?" Ned said with more insistence.
"I did what I had to do, Ned. I have seven kingdoms to rule, I have to make decisions that men like you don't approve of." Robert barked, clearly annoyed bis his friend's disapproval. He really wanted Ned's cooperation, but deep down he knew that Eddard Stark was too bloody honorable to approve of such methods. "Someone had to do it, Ned."
"Do you care so little for your honor? For what the rest of the realm will think about you?"
"Honor does not rule the realm. Neither does it keep the dragons away, Ned."
"No, but honor has always been what made you different from the Mad King," Ned implored. But it was futile. Robert only felt insulted by this.
"Careful, Ned, careful with what you say."
"I didn't want to believe it, when Ser Barristan told me about your decision. When he said that you have finally discarded what honor you had left, to kill this girl. Rhaenys Targaryen does not even have to make a move, you are on the best path to destroy yourself."
"Your grace! Your grace!" Robert's squire, Lancel, suddenly entered the tent. The boy looked scared beyond his wits, though Robert was of the opinion that the boy was the most witless Lannister he had ever met.
"What now, Lancel. This better be important."
"We are under attack, your grace. The Tyrell are turning on us. Something about an incident at the Targaryen camp. Your men are being pushed back as we speak. Some have already fled." Lancel said. It was obvious that the boy wanted to flee as well, but his fear of Robert kept him from doing so.
"So it begins." Robert muttered. This was what he wanted. A war that would crush his enemies once and for all. He knew that the death of Rhaenys Targaryen would not prevent the war, but the blow to his enemies' spirit was well worth the loss of that last shred of honor he had left. "Ready our men, we will meet them in battle."
"Robert, you don't have the men for such a fight. You'll get slaughtered. I won't sacrifice my men for such a fool's errand."
The king growled angrily. He had to admit that Ned was right. They neither had the men to storm the Targaryen's camp, nor did they have the men to resist the Tyrell's attack now.
"Your grace, we have to act quickly. We need to escape." Lancel said fearfully. "They will have us surrounded in no time."
"Gather the men, we will ride back to King's Landing. But tell them to kill any traitor they happen upon." Robert ordered, as he stood up and grabbed his sword from the table, where he had put it in anticipation of the bloodshed.
"But the men have already left! Everyone has left, your grace! All have fled, there are only enemies left. It is only us and a hand full of guards outside." Lancel yelled, clearly panicking now.
"We need a way to stall them, so we can escape." Ned said. Robert looked at his friend, hoping for some plan that would get them out of this mess alive. Abandoned by his own men... what a mocking page in the history books this would be. King Robert the Strong, won the throne from the Targaryens by force, lost it when everyone shat on him and fled because of the murder of one little girl.
"Any ideas, Ned?"
Ned merely shook his head after some moments of contemplation. "No. We can only hurry now."
"The tents, your grace. We could burn them behind us, to keep the enemy at bay." Ser Meryn offered.
"The entire camp is full of innocents. Servants, women and children. The fire would spread too quickly for them to escape. You would kill countless innocents." Ned interjected harshly. "Robert, you can't be considering this!"
But the king actually considered the option. War would always cost lives. War knows no innocents. And he had already given up on his honor. But the look Ned gave him made it clear that burning down the tents could possibly cost him his friendship. The northern lord would not condone such an act of violence.
Robert took one more deep breath, before he said, "Burn them. Burn them all."
"You are no better then the Mad King. I thought I knew you better then this, Robert. I was obviously wrong." Ned said. The look of disappointment on his face cut Robert deeper than any sword possibly could. "But I cannot allow you to kill these people. I can't allow you to doom yourself. Even if that means protecting your from yourself." And then he did the least thing Robert had expected. The northern lord drew his sword and blocked the exit with his men.
"Put down your sword, Ned. For the sake of our friendship, put down your sword and stand aside." Robert growled.
"I can't, Robert. I am sorry."
"So am I, old friend." Robert muttered. This betrayal stung. I hurt so damn that it threatened to drive him mad. "Guards, arrest these traitors. But I want them alive and as unharmed as possible."
The few remaining guards from outside stormed the tent on their king's command and Ned was quickly surrounded. The northern lord was by no means willing to harm his friend, the man he had once seen as a brother. But he couldn't just stand by and watch as Robert threw away his honor. He wouldn't be part of this madness. In an last act of defiance, he threw his sword at Robert's feet and left the tent, surrounded by the king's guardsmen.
"You are making a mistake! I will have no part in this." Was all Ned said, as he left.
"Tie him up and take him away." Robert dared not look at Ned again. "Make sure that he goes to King's Landing with the next group that leaves. Ser Boros, take some men and burn down the tents." All men did as they had been told and left the tent. Robert lingered for another moment, as he tried to wrap his mind around the fact that his own friend, his chosen brother had raised his weapon against him. He dared not call it treason. No, not Ned. Not Eddard Stark, the only remaining person in Westeross whom he had considered as a true friend. They would talk about this in King's Landing and put their differences aside. But for now this was inevitable. He really hoped that at least the Targaryen whore was burning in one of the seven hells now. "Ser Meryn, make sure our horses are ready. It is time to leave this place." But he swore that he would be back. With an army unlike any other before. And then he would make sure that Highgarden would fare a worse fate than Harrenhal.