Wife of the Wolf, Husband of the Sun
Chapter Ninety-Two
The ground was sodden from the rain storm the night before and Ned knew that if it was cold enough, then the rain would have no doubt turned into snow which would have slowed their progress to the capital greatly. Thankfully, it did not and so they had made good speed and the capital was drawing ever and ever nearer to them. The land was already begining to take the familar shape that he had seen the last time he had been to King's Landing.
Of course, even with the lack of snow Lord Tywin had the lead on them when it came to reaching the capital, instead of making the charge as was the plan that they had learned later from the prisoners that they had taken the Lord of Casterly Rock had instead ordered his own forces to retreat from the battle as the armies of the king had bleed and died on the Trident.
Their own forces had needed time to recover before they could persue him, they might have won the battle but the cost of doing so had been great indeed. Bodies littered the ground and chocked the ford and the smell of blood had stained the air so thickly that even now Ned was certain that he could still smell it and taste it as the back of his throat.
Ser Denys Arryn, the cousin of Elbert Arryn and the heir of the Vale after him, had fallen in the battle as had Lord Rickon Umber. To see such a large man brought down almost seemed unreal to Ned, even more unreal than the sight of his son holding him and wailing like a babe who could do naught else to deal with his sorrow at such a loss.
But greif could fuel a fire and while Lord Umber had died, the man that slayed him had not had long to savor his victory. Ser Gregor Clegane it was said was the largest man in all of the Seven Kingdoms and each time that Ned had seen him he could have well believed it. His Father and all of the Umbers that Ned had ever meet towered over him, and yet Ser Gregor had bested the lot of them when it came to height.
But the great height that he had did not save him from the wrath of Jon Umber, who had managed to bring the man down. Ned had seen the body when the battle had been finished, the head had suffered heavy blows to the point that it looked like a rather roughly chopped piece of meat and any features that he might have had had gotten lost in the gore of it all.
The Umber men-at-arms had already taken to calling their new lord the Mountain Crusher, the men from from the mountain clans simply had taken to calling him the Greatjon. Perhaps in time he would come to enjoy the new titles that he had been given, but in the moment his sense had been lost to the grief.
And when the grief faded, then had come the rage. No voice had spoken louder for striking off the heads of the prisoners that they had taken after the battle than him so that they might send them on to King's Landing so that Mad Aerys could know what awaited him when they finally reached the capital.
But Ned would have no such butchery occuring and thankfully both Lord Hoster Tully and Lord Jon Arryn agreeded with him, many highborn prisoners had been taken but none more imporant that the two knights of the Kingsguard Ser Barristan Selmy and Ser Lewyn Martell. Ser Barristan had yielded almost as soon as he had seen that his prince was dead and that the battle was lost.
As for Ser Lewyn, well, his wife's uncle had not yielded to them, not in truth at the very least. In the truth of it, at some point during the battle Ser Lewyn had turned his cloak and turned his blade on the men that had walked with him into battle. He had carved a bloody line through the soliders until he finally arrived at their own lines and then he fought on with them.
When all was said and done, it seemed that more of the men called for Lewyn's head than for Ser Barristan's considering that he was a turncloak but at the same time none could deny that he had not fought well, and to be against your own family and countrymen in a war could be no easy thing not the least when you were serving a king that was such a monster.
But then vows were vows, and they were meant to be followed even when they were not easy to follow and Ned did not know what to do. It got even harder for him to think of what to do when Ser Lewyn told them in the command tent that in order to prove his loyalty to Aerys that he had been forced to take on the role of executioner of the prisoners that had followed Robert to King's Landing.
Which meant that his wife's uncle was the same man who had murdered his friend. For a moment, the rage that Ned felt in his heart then was so great that he wanted to pass judgement on him then and there. He could have, he was one of Renly's regents after all. He could command in the young king's name that the man who murdered his eldest brother and then stood by and did nothing as Stannis burned had his head struck off. He did not even think there would be all that resistance, even from the advocating for less bloodshed.
But even if that was what he wanted, he knew that he could not. Lewyn had simply followed his King's commands, had he not? And the King was to be obeyed, if Ned punished him for obeying then what did that mean? And he could hardly punish him for turning his cloak on the King either, every single one of the rebels were from a certain perspective oathbreakers and turncloaks after all.
So, in the end he held his tongue and if some of the rage still burned in his heart when he thought of what had been done to Robert, then he smothered it with thoughts of Elia and her eyes and her gentle touch and how happy she would be that her uncle was alive and away from the Mad King.
In the end, both Ser Barristan and Ser Lewyn would be kept as guests of Lord Hoster until the war was done and what would be done with them after would be decided then. Lord Hoster also did not intended to send them back to Riverrun, at least not for the moment and thus they would need to have tents arranged for them to stay in.
As they had been dealing with all of that, men had been preparing to ride out. Some five thousand, made up of Northmen, Dornishmen, Valemen and Riverlanders to ride on to the capital. The remaining of their force would remain to recover before joining up with them later, but some had to go forward to catch Lord Tywin.
And that was finally how they had ended where they were, rushing across the fields in order to get to King's Landing as quickly as they could. As Ned had rode, it became clear to him that they had been too late and that Lord Tywin must have reached the capital by now but he had not been able to stop and worry about it, they simply needed to reach the city and wait for the others to join with them so that they could lay a proper siege to it.
When they finally came on the city, nothing was like Ned had expected it to be. The gate they came on, he assumed that it had to be the dragonsgate considering the great carvings around it and the fact they had come down the kingsroad fairly close, had been open and more than that it had been left open which made no sense at all as the last thing any city that could any day be under siege was going to do was to leave one of it's gates open.
Out of a sense of curiosity, he ordered some scouts to ride out around the entire city and then to report what they had found. Much as he had suspected, all of the gates were open which just added to his own confusion as all of the gates should have been closed in order to defend themselves against a siege, a siege would not be needed if they could just ride right in.
It was almost as if the city had been left open for them, as if they wanted them to come inside. But why, what advantage would that gain them?
Putting that aside, the second thing Ned noticed was that there were no defenders on the walls. The last time he had come to the capital with Elia, he had seen the city Gold Cloaks standing on the walls and that was in the time of peace. Now, in the time of war the walls were barren, not a man stood ready to defend his home.
The last thing he noticed was the smell, the smell of the rain that had fallen the night before almost hide it, washed it away like it had never happened but Ned could smell it clearly now the closer and closer that they drew to the city. The smell of smoke, the smell of blood, the smell of shit and the smell of death. It was a smell he had come to know well.
There had been fruit stalls when Ned had ridden through the Dragon Gate the last time, women who offered the produce that their men and their suns had brought in from the fields that morning to travelers in from the Kingsroad. Apples as red as blood and as large as a child's fist, green gapes just pulled from the vine, pears that looked like they would burst from nothing more that a single brush of fingers against it's skin.
Ned had bought a pear from one of the stalls, he recalled. In truth, he had not really wanted it as he had not been that hungry but many of the peddlers had been quiet insistent and the peddler who had been offering the pears had been a young girl aiding her mother at the market that day and to Ned's eyes she had looked a great deal like a young Lyanna and so he found her could not help himself, taking the pear and in exchange pressing a silver coin into the girl's small hand.
She had never seen real silver before in her life, Ned had been able to tell as soon as the coin was in her hands the girl had ran over to show her mother. Ned had then bitten into the pear and he had found that they were less bitterand solid than pears in the North, indeed the flesh was so soft and it filled his mouth with juice and it dribbled down his beard.
To tell the truth, the fruit stands were still there but many of them were broken, tipped over and burnt out. And there were corpses strewn about, some were men and some were women, some were garbed in the gold cloaks and plate of the city watch and some were children as naked as the day that they were born. He could not see any sign of the girl that gave him the pear, but in a war he had come to learn that meant less than nothing.
"Oh, Mother have mercy." Ser Elbert whispered as he took in the devastion all around them. That did not seem the right word, a storm brought devastion unthinking and without a single drop of hate or rage involved at all. Only men could be capable of the cruelty that they saw that day, the sheer, wanton brutality.
Ned had come to know it well.
Homes had been ransaked, other shops had been burst into and burned down. There were people, and Ned was certain that they were the people of the city. They wandered about, some of them were walking in a way that spoke to the fact that there was nothing else they could do. Others tried to go about their lives, their business, ignoring the corpses in the streets. A young boy, not much older than Mors or Torrhen would be now, was shaking the shoulder of a woman on the ground who was not stirring.
But when all saw them approach, they fled away from them. "Fear and blood is in the air." Howland Reed spoke, his voice as soft as a bell and his green eyes like lilly pads took in everything around them and missed not a single detail. "Hate as well, oh yes. A great deal of that. Enought to burn the world to the ground if left uncontroled, but also enough to be put to good use if tempered well. Oh yes."
Howland said things like that, at times. Things that oft did not make any sense at all and in truth Ned had stopped trying to find the sense in them. He knew that some of the men thought that he was mad, but Ned did not care about that. He was a loyal friend and a good fighter and Ned had been glad to have him at his side.
Brandon, unlikely for him, seemed less generous. His elder brother had been in fine sprits since he had killed Rhaegar, indeed Ned did not think that he had seen him so happy in a very long time. But any trace of that good mood had gone now and Ned well knew why, it was the same reason that taking any joy in any victory felt wrong to him, well one of the reasons at any rate.
Lyanna was still out there somewhere, and they had no idea where to start looking. Indeed, it felt like taking a massive step forward only to find that the ground where you placed your foot was treacherous and slipped out from under you, sending you rolling all the way back down the hill meaning you would have to climb it all over again.
"What are you talking about Reed?" Brandon said with a growl as he threw a glare over his shoulder at the younger man, his rage was clear to see and Brandon had never had any trouble at all when it came to feeling his emotions and showing them. Besides his brother Lord Willam Dustin placed his hand on Brandon's shoulder to try and calm him, but Brandon shrugged it off.
"I simply speak of what I see, a great city. A wounded city. A king's city. A fool's city." Howland feel into humming then, keeping his eyes dead ahead as they rode. Ned noted that he seemed to be humming words of the old tongue, Ned only knew a few of them which was rare even in the North but the Crannogman seemed to be able to speak in whole sentances with it.
It had been said they married close to the children of the forest, after all.
Brandon scoffed at him, which considering how well Ned knew his brother and how dealt with both his anger and people who anoyed him, was probably the best outcome that Ned could have hoped for in truth. And so on they rode, the great castle atop Aegon's High Hill that the Conqueror had never seen finished to completion was waiting for them.
Of course, it could never be so easy. There was a blockage in the road, a formidable looking barricade in truth that no doubt had been built to slow the progress of any army through the city. They could no doubt pull it down, given enough time but Ned was eager to be on and he could tell that the rest of the men wished for the same thing.
And so, they turned and rode to the nearest street and up so they they could try and find the crossing. This area seemed to be more for homes than anything else and again many were burned or had their doors burst in and those that were not were barred and barricaded from the inside. If he tried very hard, then he could just make out the sound of someone sobbing in one of the houses.
Eventually, they found a passage that would take them back to the main road towards the Red Keep. A narrow passageway between two houses, it was so narrow that they would need to ride down it in a single line but it would do in the mean time. Ned took the lead of riding through and Brandon came up behind him, the army following after them.
Soon enough they were all through, or near enough all that Ned gave the order to keep riding up the road. Up and up and up again they rode, a thousand and one tales of suffering they saw as they did but Ned hardened his heart to them. He would stop and help them all if he could, but he could not. He simply had to keep moving, naught else mattered.
A high scream burst through the air just then and a girl burst out of a near by house, a man in red and gold armor on her heels. Her simple dress had been torn at the shoulder and across the skirt. They were both blind in their own world, neither of them noticed them. The man sized the woman by the wrist and pinned her to the nearest wall, squeezing her wrist so tightly that the woman screamed again.
No choice then, Ned smoothly dismounted his horse and drew his sword. The man was so caught up with his crime, that he did not notice Ned coming up behind him until his shadow fell over him. He let go of the woman who slide down the wall and fumbled to draw his sword out of his scabbard. Ned allowed him too, so none could say that he had killed an unarmed man, before he killed him.
The girl, for that was what she was gods be good she could not have been more than fifteen, stared up at him with mistrust and fear while she held her dress together with her hands and Ned did not know what to say, what could he say? Words had never been his strong suit, he was not a singer or a mummer who would have need of them after all.
In the end, his actions would have to speak for themselves as they always did. He undid his cloak and handed it to the girl who took it readily enough and then Ned offered her his hand. That, she did not take so readily. But Ned waited for a long moment and the girl rested her hand in his and Ned gently as he was able helped her to her feet.
The girl stared at him for a moment before turning and running off, ducking into a house and slamming the door behind her. Well, that could have gone a great deal worse and Ned was grateful enough for that. He walked back over to his horse and climbed back on it, saying nothing. The men said nothing either, but he could see approval in a great many of their eyes. Even Brandon, who smirked at him.
Finally, they arrived at the foot of Aegon's hill. And it was there when things began to make a final, terrible sense. On the walls of the Red Keep, the Lion of Lannister flew proudly as if it belonged there and dared anyone to question it. Around the foot of the High Hill and spilling into the streets was all of Lord Tywin's strength and it was not insignificant.
But, high above any lion banner at the top of the tallest tower of the Red Keep, a crowned stag flew. And the way to the path up to the Red Keep was left open to them. To be sure, there were glares here and there and they were without a doubt outnumbered but none seemed like they were about to come charging in for the kill.
Ned was about to demand that Lord Tywin come forward, that they might speak but instead a single rider came out to meet him instead. He was a great beast of a man, he would not look out of place at Last Hearth with him grim features and heavy beard, when he spoke it was too the point. "Lord Eddard, I am Lord Roland Crakehall, my liege lord awaits you above in the Red Keep. No harm shall be done to you or any men you choose to bring with you, this I swear."
"The King?" He found himself asking, but he knew that he did not truly need to do so. There was really only one answer to that question, and the state of the city and the banners on the walls had long since provided the answer to it.
For for a strong looking man, he suddenly looked very uncertain. "My Lord, it would be...It would mayhaps be for the best if you saw that for yourself."
Mark Ryswell snorted then, looking at the Westerland lord with derision. "Oh, aye, see the knife that is about to stab us through the heart more than like. What foulness is this, turning on the King he served was not enough for him, was it? Now he means to strike down one of Lord Renly's regents, does Lord Tywin mean to name himself King, is that the way of it?"
"You would do well to remember your place, my lord. To my eye, we outnumber you." Lord Crakehill spoke, a dark look in his eyes before he turned his gaze back on to Ned. "We could have held this city against you, my Lord. But we did not, instead we left the gates open and allowed you to come in because my Lord must speak with you. You make take all of your force up with you, if it pleases you."
At a glance, that would seem the safest option. If all of Lord Tywin's strength was down in the city, then he could not do him much harm if Ned took all his strength up with him. But, a gnawing feeling in his belly told him not to do that and instead he bid Lord Crakehall to give him a moment and their army slowly backed away to a distance where they had at least a bit more privacy.
In the end, he decided to take only twenty men up with him. The rest of the army would remain within the city as Ned decided that they may be more use down there, if nothing else then it would serve as a warning to Lord Tywin that he expected to be able to come back down from the castle at any point that he wished too.
Brandon had not been best pleased with the plan, and as always his brother had made no bones about showing it. "Not the best idea you've ever had Ned, I won't pretend other."
Elbert Arryn had scoffed. "The gall of you to say that." And Brandon had glared at him in response.
And so, wanting to avoid a fight among his own men in full view of an enemy, Ned rode quickly back to Lord Crakehall and told him his wishes and the Lord nodded, turning his horse and riding up the path with Ned following him with his twenty men. He had chosen Brandon and the Greatjon to come with him, as well as Elbert Arryn and Howland Reed. Mark Ryswell and Willam Dustin looked grand on their great steads as they rode, Theo Wull choose to walk, Ethan Glover stood ready for any threat and Martyn Cassel seemed anxious.
There were Lannister guards on the walls was the first thing that Ned noticed when they rode into the courtyard, he spotted at least ten but he did not doubt that there were more. He simply told himself that he had an army down in the city if he needed it and he did not think Lord Tywin would be so bold as to ambush them knowing that.
But then, he did not know the man and he could always be wrong.
Once they had dismounted their horses, Lord Crakehall lead them over to the building which contained the Throne Room, it had been a long time since he had last been in the room and he had hoped that the last time would have been the last time but it seemed that he had not been so fortunate at all. Ned breathed deeply, and stepped closer.
Ten Lannister men-at-arms were standing in a loose circle in front of the Iron Throne, as Ned and his own men approached the Iron Throne most of them tensed and looked ready to draw their swords from a single wrong look. In truth, as Ned got closer he found that he did not care about the guards at all and instead he cared who was sitting on the Iron Throne itself.
So high above them all, sitting the throne like he was born to it, was Lord Tywin Lannister, the Lord of Casterly Rock, the Lord Paramount of the Westerlands, the Shield of Lannisport, the Great Lion and the Warden of the West, garbed in plate where King Aerys had once favoured robes of Myrish silk. He stared down at them for a long moment, his pale green eyes burrowing into all of them before he rose and stepped down on to the dais.
"Lord Eddard, you and I have a great deal to discuss." There was something about the man, they had been enemies for so long and yet something about the way he spoke, it made people wanted to listen. Ned hated him, he knew that to be true and yet still all the same he listened as the man spoke. "The future of the realm would seem to be at stake."
Ned then noticed something off to the side of the Throne, there in a crumpled heap was King Aerys of the House Targaryen, the Second of his Name, King of the Andels, the First Men and the Rhoynar, the Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and the Protector of the Realm. The Mad King. King Scab. And he was dead, there could be no doubt about that.
"Did you kill him?" It was the only thing that Ned could think to say, it seemed that some of the others who had come with him had not seen the body until now. Not till he drew attention to it. Brandon cursed and the Greatjon laughed, Howland Reed hummed and Ser Elbert let out a small sigh at the sight.
"We should discuss all of this in private." Lord Tywin began but Ned interrupted him before he could say another word.
"Did you kill him?!" Ned shouted, suddenly feeling like every battle and injury and all that had happened in the last year all came rushing out of him. The wound that he had suffered at Prince Rhaegar's hands all suddenly burned and not for the first time did he wish that he could simply lay down. "Answer me, now."
Lord Tywin stared at him, long and hard and perhaps it scared him but Ned did his best not to show it. Perhaps it worked and perhaps it did not, but either way it was clear that he was not going to relent and so Lord Tywin shook his head. "No, not I. In truth, my son Ser Jaime Lannister slew him around a full hour ago. I have taken on my authority to see him confined to a tower cell."
Jaime Lannister. Well, that was a headache he did not wish to deal with. The memory of how close he had gotten to Elia, that he had been there while his sons were born, that he had been in the room still tied his stomach into knots and left a bitter taste in the back of his throat. And now Ser Jaime Lannister was a Kingslayer. And an Oathbreaker.
Cursing began to fill the air then and Ned held up his hand to stop them, there was grumbling and Brandon cursed but at least they stopped. Ned cleared his throat then and turned his attention back to Lord Tywin. "Ser Jaime broke his vows and will be cursed as a kingslayer and an oathbreaker, I imagine that there will be many who wish for his head and it is not my place to judge him alone. King Renly has other regents, other Lords."
Lord Tywin nodded then. "As I say, I wish to discuss many of these things with you in private." He glanced at Aerys's body for a brief moment and his face...changed. It did not soften, no take on the shadow of sorrow. But it just, altered ever so slightly and his pale green eyes were filled with something, perhaps it was the shade of remorse or regret or memory.
But if it was there, then it did not last long. The stone mask slammed back into place and the pale green eyes were cold once again. "I would suggest that the both of us meet in the solar at the top of the Tower of the Hand, you and myself. No guards, no weapons. And we speak." He held out his hands. "The decision is yours, Lord Eddard."
If that was true, then why did it feel like it was more Lord Tywin's than his? The truth of it was that it was a delicate balance, both their armies were outside the walls and neither could afford to push the other too much. Battles in cities were ugly things, and while Lord Tywin's army was larger than his own it was not so large that Ned could not manage to secure a victory.
But still, it would be a close thing.
"Very well, my Lord. I agree, if you would give me a moment before I come to meet with you." Lord Tywin nodded and stepped down from the dais and left the throne room, his guards trailing after him like ducklings behind their mother duck.
When the doors to the Throne Room slammed shut, all the hells bubbled over as one. Considering that he had only brought twenty men with him, it surely should not have been that loud and yet they managed to make it so, it seemed like a thousand people were screaming at him all at once and he could not catch one word in a thousand.
In the end, he simply waited for all of them to stop talking and when they were he jabbed his finger directly at Elbert Arryn, so that he would speak first and then glared at the others to make it clear that he would not tolerate any interruptions. "Ned." Elbert spoke. "Whatever happens, you must not let Lord Tywin suggest any leniency for his son. Jaime Lannister broke his oaths, stained his cloak and killed his king, that can not be forgive."
"That's what your worried about?!" Willam Dustin exclaimed, looking at the heir to the Eyrie and the Vale like he had grown a second head which had started to sing the Bear and the Maiden Fair. "We have any army outside the walls, and so does Lord Tywin! It could come to a bloody battle in the streets and I do not think it's one we can win, we need a light touch until Lord Arryn, Lord Tully and all the rest arrive."
"You are not a knight Will." Ser Mark Ryswell spoke, one of the very few knights in the North who did not live in or near White Harbor. "The vows we swear matter, and Ser Jaime broke all of them. It is not a light matter. You should know this."
"Oh gods, piss on all of that." Brandon shouted and Ned frowned as he turned and span to find this his brother was now standing over Aerys's body. "He's an oathbreaker and a kingslayer and who bloody cares? We're all bloody oathbreaks, we swore an oath to stay loyal to the throne or our fathers did in our place anyway and we all broke that, one of us would need to put a knife in his heart in the end and we would still be a Kingslayer. Or did that not matter cause he's not the rightful King, cause the little boy hold up behind the walls of Storm's End is the right king so killing this one does not count unless we had been staying loyal to him?"
"I'll remind you, my lords, that this is the same man who was burning children alive for nothing more than stealing food from his kitchens, this is the man who burned the representative of the gods your vows are sworn to." Neither Elbert nor Mark seemed like they could answer that but Brandon did not seem like he was done. "The man who raped his wife behind closed doors and hurt her as well, I was cruel to my own former wife, I will not deny that, but I never struck her, I never raped her, I never would."
"This is the man who forced your wife away from you Ned, out of nothing more than a massive sense of spite. The one who made it so that your children were not born in Winterfell, so that you could not be there to be the first to hold them and to give them there names right there and then. This is the man-" Brandon's voice went deeper then and Ned did not think he had ever seen him angrier than in that moment. "Whose son kidnapped our sister, and we still have no idea where she is or what that silver haired shit has been doing to her,"
"And yet, you want me to believe that Jaime Lannister should be punished for killing him? That he should be ashamed of it? That he should lose his head for it? As I said, piss on all of that. In fact, I think I will." Brandon then reached down to his pants and it was possible that it was sheer shock that had made it impossible for him to move forward, to do anything to stop him.
But it just might also have been possible that Ned did not wish to stop it as well, he honestly was not sure.
Brandon loosened his pants just enough to pull out his cock, he pointed it at Aerys and almost as soon as he did so a thin golden stream began to landed on the dead king's arm, turning the purple silk that he was still dressed in a darker shade.
For a long few moments, the only sound was the sound of his brother pissing on a dead man. Then, Jon Umber moved forward and pulled out his own cock and joined it.
They were soon done and fixed themselves accordingly and Ned simply stared at the both of them, not having the slighest idea what to do or to say? Clearly neither of them were ashamed, they simply stood there and smiled as if what they had done was something to be proud of. A fine achivement that they were to be clapped on the back for.
Ned closed his eyes and breathed deeply through his nose, not too deep mind. "I need to go and speak with Lord Tywin, Howland, you're in charge untill I return. Everyone, we aren't safe here no matter how it may seem so remember that and be ready for anything to happen, including that we may need to fight our way out. Brandon...just be quiet and stand still."
With that Ned turned and left the throne room as quickly as he could, he crossed the courtyard to the Tower of the Hand. There were no guards on the doors, so it seemed that Lord Tywin had not lied to him about that if nothing else and so Ned pushed open the doors and began to ascend the stairs to reached the Hand's chambers at the top.
It seemed that Lord Tywin looked just as comfortable behind the desk as he had done atop the Iron Throne, seeing him sitting there made Ned realise something as he recalled that Jon Connington had been the Hand. "What happened to the rest of the royal court, aside from the guards and yourself the throne room was empty."
"Many of them were cowering in their chambers when we arrived, to fearful of Aerys to do anything or to try and leave. They remain there at this moment, under the watch of mine own men."
"And your daughter my lord, your grandchildren?" Ned found that he could not help but ask.
Lord Tywin looked at him sharply and his voice was soft as he spoke, soft and dangerous. "They are safe within my daughter's chambers in Maegor's Holdfast, when siege was laid on the Red Keep I sent my own trusted knights to scale the walls to ensure their safety. Quite a great number of my knights continue to be with them, to continue to ensure their safety."
"I mean them no harm, my Lord." Ned spoke and he meant it. Cersei Lannister would never hold a fond place in either his heart or his mind but he bore her no ill will and her children were innocent of any crime, Ned would not hold them to the account of the sins of their Grandfather, or their Father. There had been enough blood as it was.
Lord Tywin did not look like he believed him but he said nothing of it. Instead, he rose from behind his desk and walked over to the table at the side of his desk and picked up the pitcher that was placed on it and filled a cup with the wine that it held and then filled another with it and then brought both cups back to his desk, setting one in front of Ned as he sat back down. "You should drink."
"I am not thirsty my lord, thank you."
"The purpose of wine is not to drink it to quench thirst, you should know that at least." Ned did not make any effort to reach out for the cup and perhaps Lord Tywin understood his fear as he began to speak once again. "Lord Eddard, I did not bring you hear to poison you. You have an army in the streets of the city and a much larger one bearing down on me that could be here any day. I simply wish for us to speak."
"Maybe you would not poison me, but having me drunk could be to your advantage." One glass of wine was not going to get him drunk, but all the same Ned was not about to take any chances when it came to Lord Tywin and he did not know what kind of wine it was just by looking at it, so he choose caution. "If we are hear to speak, then speak."
"Very well then." Lord Tywin spoke as he leaned back in his chair ever so sightly. "You saw the stag of House Baratheon flying from the Red Keep when you rode in, I trust? Aerys is dead and I delivered you both this city and the Red Keep, in order to ensure peace from now on then I would suggest that King Renly be betrothed to my granddaughter Rhaenys, when the both of them reach a suitable age."
It was a bold thing to ask, considering that he had been fighting against them and for the king for so long. He would walk away from this rebellion with his granddaughter being the Queen. There would be objections to that, they would not be few and they would not be small and Ned could already start to feel another headache brewing behind his eyes.
But all the same, he could not deny that he was curious. "And why would we agree to that, my Lord?"
"Because just because Aerys is dead does not mean that the war is over, not even slightly. Queen Rhaella and Prince Viserys left the city for Dragonstone, I do not doubt that soon enough another young boy will have a crown on his head. And men will rally around him, some will do so because they are loyal to House Targaryen, others will do it because they wish a bloody vengence on you rebels, still others will do it because of ambition that blinds them to the reality of the matter."
"My granddaughter is a Targaryen, the daughter of Prince Rhaegar who despite his own folly was well loved by many. If Targaryen blood runs through Renly's children, more than it already does, then his claim to the throne will be seen as more legitament and more of those loyalist houses will be more willing to bend the knee to him."
"In more practical terms, this will bind me to you. And more importantly, will bind the rest of the west to you." The Lord of Casterly Rock spoke, so certain that none of his bannermen would ever defy him. "Doing so will leave those still loyal to House Targaryen with a great lack of strength, for as well people as the Reach is they can not stand against the rest of the Seven Kingdoms alone and after the Trident the forces of the crownlands are little more than an after thought at this point. This could end the war, by the morrow."
Ned could not deny, Lord Tywin knew how to convince a man. Perhaps fate would have done better to make him a cheese merchant instead of the Lord of Casterly Rock. "I am not Lord Renly's only regent, as I said, this offer is not mine to accept on my own even if I were to concide that it does make a great deal of sense to accept."
"Then bring my offer to them, the important ones will agree with me. Estermont and Mertyns are both old and they've been under siege at Storm's End, they will want an end to this war and the unimportant ones can be convinced." Lord Tywin took a sip from his glass and then set it back down on the table. "Peace, my Lord. And end, surely you want that."
"Right now, I wish for an answer to a question. I know well the insult that Prince Rhaegar did to your daughter, he crowned my sister and then he abducted her as well. You not being fond of him is not a surprise to me. But to abandon him as you did on the battlefield, the lords and ladies of Westeros will not forget that. Your granddaughter may be queen one day, but your grandson will never be a king. No doubt he will be disinherited, some may have call for his death, so why?"
Lord Tywin was quiet for a long moment, being careful with his words and his pale green eyes stayed locked on to him until he finally spoke. "When you get older, you begin to stop seeing how you can win and instead, start to see how you can manage the fall that when you finally land, you've broken as few bones as possible."
"Ironborn and Dornish raid my lands, burn my fields, kill my smallfolk. My fleet has burned outside the walls of the city that I am the protector of and the family of mine that rules the city has been hung from the walls of their home, except the daughter who was here within the Red Keep at the times and according to my daughter has fallen into hysteria to the point that Aerys had her tongue ripped out instead of hearing any more of it, the path at the Golden Tooth is still denied to me and thus the distance in order to reach anywhere of importantance and also for supplies to reach me is greatened, more so than is bearable."
"I was always good with numbers when I was a boy, my maester always praised me for how quick I was to grasp them. To put them together. I put the numbers together, Lord Eddard, and the answer to me became all too clear." Lord Tywin raised his glass to his lips once again, and this time the sip he took was larger than the first.
He did not think that he could win. Ned was conflicted on how to feel about that, on the one hand he could not deny the little bit of pride he felt down deep that they had caused Lord Tywin to surrender to them even if he would not say those words. But then, the pride became tinged with guilt when he considered that Lord Tywin had not surrendered at all, he had butchered a city and was now using the Red Keep and joining his strength to theirs as a side of beef to batered.
A side of beef that they may yet need, when it came to it. Storm's End had been under siege to long and they knew nothing of Renly, any raven that tried to go to or leave the castle was always shot down. Ned rose from his chair and bent his head to Lord Tywin. "As I say, when my Lords of Tully and Arryn arrive, I shall bring them the other and then to King Renly's other regents. My Lord."
Ned left the solar and Lord Tywin sitting behind his desk and he then hurried down the steps as quickly as he could, once outside he found all his companions were waiting for him and they all clearly wished to know what had been spoken of. Ned closed his eyes, sighed and thought of what his Lord Father would do in that moment.
Hoping that he had his father's steel in his voice, he opened his eyes and spoke. "Mark, Will. You are the fastest riders out of any of us, ride down into the city and bring up five hundred men. I need to be ready to hold the castle in case Lord Tywin's army tries something. Five hundred should not cause to great a reaction, but still be quick."
Once both Northmen had gone, Ned turned his gaze to his brother and Jon Umber. "Princess Cersei and her children are somewhere within Maegor's Holdfast, her Father has her under his protection when I need her to be undermine. She will be well guarded, so be ready for that and listen to me now. She is not to be harmed, neither are her children. Go."
Ned gave the orders and they all rushed to fill them, and soon he stood alone in the middle of the courtyard. He glanced up at the sky and found himself wondering that the war could indeed be almost over. Yes, he needed to hold the castle till Jon and Hoster arrived and yes the siege on Storm's End needed to be lifted and Renly brought to the capital and yes everyone would need to be ordered to return their homes and he had a horrible feeling that the Ironborn might prove stubborn when it came to that.
And most importantly, they still need to find Lyanna. But surely, the worst of it, the lion's share, was done.
Why then, with the sun shinning on his face and the sent of smoke on the breeze did it seem like it was only about to get a great deal worse?
Welp, I guess that's this arc of the story done, if you will. The war is done, all that's left is tidying up the loose ends. The next arc will be about Westeros and moving forward and that sometimes, the aftermath of war is sometimes more difficult to deal with than the war itself.
Next chapter will be an Elia chapter, so I hope you will look forward to that.
Also, as of this chapter this story will have over half a millon words and that is such a great milestone. The sheer support, from those who have simply read the story and those who have followed, favourited and reviewed as well as the fact that this story actually has a TV Tropes page means more to me than words can so, so thank you for that.
Keep reading, we aren't close to done yet.
With love and unending gratitude,
DiscordantSymphony