Chapter 12: The Lions in The bullette's den

Chapter 10

Eddard Stark, kin and good-brother of King Razvahn XI, royal advisor and castellan of Winterfell, felt at peace. He often did, whenever he was in the godswood, especially when he cleaned and sharpened his family's sword, Ice.

Eddard took a moment from his ministrations to examine his surroundings.

When the shadar-kai conquered what would be later named Ikemmu 7,000 years ago, they had brought with them a multitude of gods which, as their new subjects had learned, were very real and very powerful. Of course, King Razvahn I had allowed many of the ancient northerners to keep their worship of the old gods, which some still did to this day, though most had converted to the new religions. As such, the great heart tree had not only the customary face carved into it, but also had symbols of the other deities either hanging from its branches, or also carved into its bark. Many, especially the Umbers, felt drawn to Tempus, god of war. Ned, on the other hand, always felt a connection with the god of law and justice, Torm.

Right now, though, the ancient history of his homeland's religions was not at the forefront of his mind at the moment. No, what was worrying him was the message that had been sent from the Westerosi capital of King's Landing 3 weeks ago. A messenger raven had arrived bearing the sigil of Robert Baratheon, the king of the Six Kingdoms of Westeros. The message it had carried stated that the king and his entourage were coming to Winterfell, to discuss matters of great importance. Ned was honestly at a loss for what Robert would want to come to Ikemmu for. A diplomatic treaty? From what Ned remembered of Robert, it seemed rather unlikely. Though they had somehow become good friends during the man's rebellion, Ned was not blind to his faults.

Sighing, he went back to cleaning his sword. Ice had already been an ancient sword during the Stark's thousand year reign of the former North. Later, it had been re-forged and reshaped in the serrated style of the shadar-kai and inlaid with powerful spells both divine and arcane. The sword was massive, a good 6 and a half feet in length, with the blade itself dark grey, razor-edged, and decorated with silver runes down its length. The pommel was a proud Direwolf head with two Sapphires for its eyes. They were to signify Ned's marriage to Catelyn Tully 19 years ago. It had served the Starks, and by extension the Korlons, well for 7 thousand years.

Ned was shaken loose from his thoughts by the sound of footsteps. He looked up to see his wife had approached and sat down across from him. She gave him a smile, warm and loving, and he responded with one of his one.

The past seventeen years had been quite kind to Ashara Stark. Her hair was still like a cascading waterfall of ebony, colored with a few streaks of purple and silver. Her purple eyes were still as sharp as the day they had first met, all those years ago in the sunny lands of Dorne. She was a tad less trim than she used to be, courtesy of having had 5 children. She had adopted the northerner's custom of piercings, with a small line of silver studs along her nose ridge, one on her lower lip, and a few in her ears. While their marriage had been that of a political union, they had grown to love each other very deeply.

After a moment of silence, she spoke. "I had thought to find you here, Ned. You always do enjoy coming here when you feel troubled."

Ned grunted. "Aye, that letter from King's Landing has me troubled." There had been reports that Jon Arryn had died. While never knowing the man personally, Ned had met him a few times, during the Westerosi Rebellion and the Greyjoy Culling. For a man over seventy, he had been remarkably hale and hearty.

"I have no idea", Ned continued, "Why Robert would be coming here at all. It is true that we are friends, forged in blood and steel, but I do not know."

As he spoke, Ashara walked over and put her hand upon his shoulder. "You are overreacting, Ned, as always. I am sure everything will be fine. Now, come, your cousin has been wondering where you are, as have the children. Robert will be arriving in a few hours. We must be ready."

Ned gave a small smile, then relented to being gently led back to the throne room.

xxxxxx

Cersei had decided, from the moment that the royal entourage had entered Ikemmu, that she hated it. She detested the perpetual gloom, abhorred the way that it always appeared to be dusk, loathed how the air seemed to stick to your skin, but most of all she despised its inhabitants. To her they were like the uncivilized, bloodthirsty demons from a mummer's tale, with their piercings, tattoos, scars, and wild looks. Whenever they passed one or a group upon the road to Winterfell, she would close the curtains to the wheelhouse windows. She did not want the children to have nightmares, after all. She was honestly not surprised that Robert was friends with one of them. Eddard Stark, a cousin to Ikemmu's king. And Robert wanted to make that creature a member of his small council. How abhorrent.

As they entered Ikemmu's capital, she decided to at least take a look out her wheelhouse's window at her surroundings. She was not impressed. Everything seemed garish yet grey all at once. She saw many shadar-kai and shadowborn humans watching the royal procession with curious interest. She ignored them. Robert, on the other hand, she could hear shouting greetings to the creatures. What a fool.

One of the only good things about this trip was the fact that her half-brother was with her. Darren Lannister, Tywin Lannister's legitimized bastard. Roughly five years older than she was, he was tall, handsome, golden haired, green eyed, charming, and skilled in many ways. Apparently the end result of the only time Tywin Lannister had ever imbibed too much alcohol, Darren Hill, as he had been known then, had been borne to a common washerwoman. Unacknowledged for years, it was only when Tyrion and Jaime had…. left, that her father had actually recognized his existence. Later, Darren was legitimized by Robert, and Tywin had a new heir. Jaime's departure had hurt very much, considering how closehe and Cersei had been, but Darren had quickly filled the role. At first, she had not liked him, but, after a while, she found her opinion of him was more positive.

At that moment, Darren spoke. "Copper for your thoughts, sister?" He said with a rakish grin.

She sighed. "I detest this place, brother. It is a blight."

He grinned again. "I would not worry much, little sister. We need only spend at least one or two more days in this land, and then we shall depart for King's Landing. Just grit your teeth and bear it, like with Robert."

She rolled her eyes, but gave a light smile nonetheless.

When they entered the main courtyard of Winterfell's castle, with the walls proudly adorned with the banner of House Korlon, a mighty Silver creature known as a "land shark" over a field of dark Grey, earth brown, and gold, the wheelhouse came to a stop. At that, she and the children each stepped out of the wheelhouse with royal dignity.

As she stepped out, she beheld the royal family of Ikemmu. Like the rest of the shadar-kai, they were grey skinned, black eyed, and covered in piercings, scars, and tattoos. All that is, except one, a lovely human woman with long black hair, Ashara Dayne.

In the middle of the group could have been none other than Ikemmu's king, Razvahn XI. Taller than anyone else in the courtyard, very muscular, and riddled with piercings, scars, and tattoos of all shapes all over. He had skin the color of a stormy sky, long, braided hair dyed white, gold, red, and black, and was dressed in fine clothes of the same colors. Upon his head was a crown wrought in the shape of axe-blades and swords. On either side stood his extended family, the Korlons and the Starks, all similar, except for the woman. The meeting of the two kings was ruined by the fact that Robert was struggling move his large bulk out of his saddle, and eventually had to be awkwardly helped by a few pages.

Finally, Robert was on the ground, and, followed by Cersei and the children, strode over to Razvahn, who extended, to Cersei's disgust, a clawed hand which Robert took with minute hesitation. The shadar-kai then spoke in a surprisingly deep and commanding voice.

"King Robert, I welcome you to Ikemmu. No Westerosi King has ever visited our fair kingdom. I am proud to call you the first. Welcome!"

With a smile filled with pointy teeth, Razvahn clapped both his free hand upon Robert's shoulders. Without missing a beat, Robert replied, "Yes, King Razvahn. I am honored to be the first King of Westeros to view your fair capital. I wish for nothing but friendship between our two kingdoms. I believe we have much to discuss."

"Aye, indeed we do, which we shall over a feast, for your journey has been long and you and yours must be famished! Come, let us sup on fine dishes, and partake of good wine!"

At this point, both royal parties began to walk towards the large doors leading to Winterfell's main hall. Cersei and her children followed silently.