Ned V

The hooves of the horses were a rolling wave of thunder. Ned did his best to focus on that sound, rather than what was in front of him. He could vaguely see the outline of the small wall barely covered with men. A few were likely looking towards them, but if everything went as plan…

He felt a breath he'd been holding as he saw the gate open. Now, instead of having to pull his horse up, he dug his heels into his horse, and the beast doubled its speed. He could feel the horsemen around him doing the same. His eyes rose up to the great Trout banner at the very front of this host, and sighed in relief that Hoster Tully had agreed to join them for this battle. In fact, as he looked back at the open gate to the Stoney Sept, to say that the Hoster had merely joined them in this battle was to make small his actual contributions.

Hoster hadn't merely joined them for this battle, he'd planned it. That was why the Rivermen along the walls were letting them through the gate.

The first through were Hoster Tully and his guard, around forty men. Several men at arms jumped from their horses, though Ned lost sight of them as they moved to the sides of the gate. They were now likely doing their best to secure the gate house to the Stoney Sept, to allow the rest of the army to follow through. He could also see Hoster and the most armored of his men riding further into the walled town, the distinct sound of bells ringing through the air as the Lord of the Rivers made their way further into the town.

Right behind him was around three dozen knights following a banner with a white falcon on a bright blue sky. Denys Arryn rode at the front of this vanguard of the Knights of the Vale. He recognized many of the sigils along the shields of the men riding with the Arryn heir. He could see the Runes of the Royce, the Nine Stars of Templeton, the White Spider-Crab of Borrell. He had met most of those knights while he had been fostering in the Eyrie, and it did his heart good to see them shoot through the open gate. They had met Robert too, and they would fight fiercely to save the Lord of Storm's End.

And then finally, it was the turn for he and his guard to make their way through. Alongside the nine men that had agreed to make his guard, he was joined by around twenty other armored horsemen with round shields and spears. And of course…

His eyes moved towards the smallest figure among the horsemen. The good news was they had managed to get a set of armor that had fit her. It had taken some work by a blacksmith, one that had not thought much of the request but done so when a bag of twenty silver coins hit his hand, but the armor fit her in as safe a manner as possible. She was able to ride with that armor well, just as he imagined she would from his memories of the tourney.

Yet still…he worried. He knew she would ride with him, but the thought of her being out and alone, exposed so some random knight might skewer her with his lance, concerned him. So he had her placed near the middle of the group, far back so she would always have one of his men near him to help her. He hoped she didn't mind, she hadn't brought it up, but he hoped she didn't realize what he was doing, and if she did, didn't think it was a disrespect to her.

His mind was pulled from his lady wife as he and his horse crossed below the gate to the Stony Sept. As he did so, he moved his head around, and saw that the men who had dismounted from Hoster Tully's initial breach had taken control of the gatehouse, many getting in defensive positions to hold the gate. He looked over to try and speak with one of them, when suddenly he saw what he had feared.

Around thirty other horsemen appeared from one of the different streets. Ned only needed to stare for a second at the shields on the leading knight of that group to see it was not one of their allies. A wavy blue bend on a golden field, a Goodbrook. A river house that had chosen to serve under the banner of the three-headed dragon.

'I suppose we knew we'd be fighting these men,' Ned thought as his group gathered up, and prepared to engage with this group of oncoming loyalists, 'They would be the men that would be most able to talk the town fathers into letting them search for Robert.'

'Robert…'

"Come on!" Ned shouted, as their horses picked up their pace in a building charge. They needed to smash this group of knights now and get moving towards the center of the town, where Robert Baratheon was supposedly being hidden by friends of Hoster Tully. He lowered his spear and raised his shield.

And then the two groups of horsemen crashed into one another.

Ned felt the spear become far lighter, the long shaft splintering from impact along a tough metal shield. He kept his balance though, holding up his shield for protection. It proved wise, as he felt a hard impact on his arm, and could see a mace pull back in the hand of one of his opponents. That man was let out a strange squelch as a long metal spear shot out, and impaled him. Ned could only take a second to look back at Cu, who removed Steelbite from the corpse and used his spear to block two incoming swords, before swinging that metal shaft and knocking both men from their horses.

Ned ambled his horse forward, doing his best to pull out a short sword. Part of him wished he had Ice, but that had been with his Father when Rickard had ridden down to King's Landing. Even if he had it, he'd never had any chance to practice with the greatsword, and its weight would make battle on horseback nearly impossible. He raised his blade and clanged his sword into another one of the Goodbrook's men's own sword. He twisted it, and brought it down.

"Glurck," escaped the man's throat, the sword managing to slide right through a break between the shoulder and the neck. As the man fell from his shoulder, however, Ned suddenly realized his error, as he was pulled by the descending body forward. HIs horse had been moving in the opposite direction, and Ned could not help but fall from the beast. He slammed into the dirt road, before with the upmost speed forcing himself to his feet, his shield raised. He tried to pull the sword from the dead man, but it had been caught in the bone, and now rested useless. He looked to reach his horse, but cursed as it was soon beyond his ability to reach it.

And then he saw the Goodbrook Knight not thirty paces. He'd come out of a pass through Ned's group, his own lance now shattered somewhere back in it. He stared at Ned, and Ned could see the recognition in his stance. Then, from his side, the knight pulled out his own sword, and charged forward towards Ned. Ned could only raise his shield in hope to block the strike-

SHLLLIINNKKKK

That never came.

It took Ned a second to realize what had occurred, the Goodbrook's horse passing along him, riderless. He looked up, and saw that the knight had been not only taken from his horse, but impaled by a steel tipped lance, in the exact manner that one was to strike at a tourney. The lance had cut through the golden field of the Goodbrook's shield, and then passed into his armor, then somehow out the man's back, and into the river stone wall of the small cottage along this road. As he looked at his savior, he felt for an instance a bit of sheepish shame at the predicament.

After all, he would recognize the Golden Lion on the blue background anywhere.

'I must find my horse,' he thought, trying to push the realization that Artoria had just saved his life once more from his head. He quickly spotted it, the steed having stopped about fifty paces away. With the Goodbrook group either engaged or dead, it appeared now that only a few of these hosemen had full plate, he could make it quite easily. He began to run forward towards his horse, when he gave one last look back at Artoria.

Whose horse was still where it had been before, standing perfectly still, right in front of the impaled body of the Goodbrook knight. The knight was dead, but Artoria's hand was still around the spear. Her body had seemed to have gone straight as a plank of wood, and she moved as much as one as well. As he continued to run towards his horse, his eyes remained on the girl, and even as he flew onto the beast, she still stayed absolutely still.

"Arto-"

"Donnel!" another one of the armored knights pushed out from the melee, likely attempting to retreat from the collapsing loyalist circumstances in that brawl. The knight's eyes had been drawn to his kinsman, his shield the same blue river. He lowered his lance, and charged towards Artoria, who only now seemed to stir from the daze she'd been under. However, she seemed to try and pull her lance out, and it was clearly stuck. Now she was the direct target of a lance upon a charger.

CRACK-SLUNK

Only for a familiar blue haired spearman to cut in between them, the steel spear first smashing the wooden lance, and then twisting around, and shooting directly beneath the helmet of the charging knight. Ned, even among the din and the chaos could swear to hear gurgling from the dying knight. He then saw Cu shoot his arms forward, and for somehow Steelbite to chew out the back of the dead man's neck, and then, with a flick of his wrist, Cu pushed his spear up so that the knight's helmeted head popped from his shoulders.

Ned could feel his jaw fall open at the display of strength, and thanked the Old Gods for his loyal hound. As he moved up towards his dog and wife, however, he felt a sigh build in his chest at their discussion.

"Girly," Cu wasn't even focusing on the fighting much anymore, as the remaining Goodbrook men were either fleeing or surrendering, "You want to die out there?" he waved his metal spear down at the corpse of the second knight, "Cause you stand like a statue again, and even an idiot like this fucker is going to manage to kill you."

"I-"

"This is why I didn't want Ned to br-," Cu turned his head up and his eyes caught Ned's, "Ned, I told you this was a ba-"

"We can finish this conversation later," Ned said quickly, though he regretted the time that would take, "We need to find Robert," Cu was about to say something before finally just growling, and letting out a massive wad of spit. Ned finally was able to look back at the gatehouse, and let out a massive sigh of relief as more and more of the horsemen they had led in a massive ride poured into the city.

It had only been five days ago when he and the van of the Northern Army had arrived in Riverrun. Jon Arryn had been meeting there with Hoster Tully, and the hope was that Robert Baratheon and the five thousand Stormlanders he'd lead up north after the battle of Ashford would arrive soon. However, they'd soon learned that due to a slight wound Robert had taken, Ned's foster brother had rested at the Stoney Sept, leaving him open to possible capture by an army of Targaryen Loyalists nearly twenty thousand strong. It was a mix of northern reachmen like the Fossoways, downstream Rivermen like the Goodbrooks, and around three thousand crownlanders from King's Landing led by the Hand of the King, Ser Jon Connington.

Upon realizing that this army might be able to catch Robert and send the Rebellion into a tailspin, Ned, Hoster and Jon's heir Denys would lead a contingent of horseman south as quickly as possible, all the while Hoster would use his connections to the town fathers of Stoney Sept to keep Robert alive and open the gates for the rest of the host. It'd seemed to have paid off so far, and now, with this relief army firmly in control of the North gate, they only needed to find Robert, and get him behind their lines. Together with the remaining Stormlander forces north of the town, they would be able to withdraw in good order back to Riverrun, and meet with the rest of their armies gathered there.

Ned raised a new sword into the sky, and his companions were soon riding with him down the road that the Goodbrook men had arrived down. The road was empty of Smallfolk, the Bells that had been the alert for the men-at-arms manning Stoney Sept had also served to alert the ordinary people to remain in their homes and hovels, and allow the fighting to harm as few of them as possible. It was the least to be done for them, considering how they had helped keep Robert alive.

The clear road meant that their ride to the town square was short, and it was there they once again ran into chaos. Denys and Hoster and their warriors had made it into the square sometime ago, and the fighting here was fiercer than it had been against the Goodbrooks. As Hoster had suspected, most of the men here were other Rivermen, Jon Connington having used them for the search in an attempt to win over the people of the Stoney Sept. Butterwell, Shawney, Hawick, Smallwood, Mooton and Ryger men were busy in clumps fighting the Vale Knights or the men-at-arms of Riverun. Ned could see Hoster Tully dueling a Shawney knight, the trout and catfish attempting to swallow the other in a dance one might see along a riverbed. Yohn Royce, his horse nowhere to be seen, stepped over a body with a blue shield covered in white birds, the stoic man's eyes scanning for the next to fall beneath his runic blade. A tullyknight with a black trout along his chest, Hoster's younger brother Bryden, was riding in battle with two Ryger men on each side, deftly keeping the four blades around him in check.

"Let's not let them have all the fun," Ned felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand tall as he saw Cu ride forward. The crazed wildling's horse sprang directly into a crowd of knights under a banner filled with white, green and gold waves. Horses and men shrieked as he began to battle the half dozen knights himself, and not merely by surprise, as Steelbite had already slain two of the horses and one of their knights, all the while Cu and his horse shot out the other side and began to turn, both seemingly unscathed. Ned saw the man in most ornate armor among that group turn with his lance to try and meet Cu before the spearman could charge once more.

"Ned!" Willam's voice cut through the screams, and Ned turned his head to the Lord of Barrowtown. Doing so, he saw what had caught his friend's eye.

Up on the steps of the Sept the town was named for, bells continuing to ring all the while, were two knights no longer on horseback. There was Denys Arryn, the great white falcon flying along his shield, fighting desperately against another man. This other man was not another Riverlander, but rather a man of the stormlands. He had no shield, but upon his chest were two mighty griffins dueling one another, one white and one red, the latter matching his fiery hair. Ned recognized Jon Connington from the dance the heir to Griffon's Roost had had with Ashara Dayne. For an instant he remembered the joy he'd felt that knight, of how everything for but a few short moments had seemed right with the world, and now, instead the only dance around him was one of death.

"We must help him!" Ned shouted, and his guard moved charged towards the steps. Denys was a fine knight, but it was clear as day that Jon Connington was a ferocious fighter. He needed help if he was to survive. However, as his horsemen charged forward, several warriors adorned acorns on a yellow background ran in front of them spears stretched outward. Ned's men weren't caught by the rudimentary tactic, but it meant they were forced to separate out from one another and call off the charge. As they did so Ned looked up once more-

To catch Jon Connington's axe come down and cave in Denys helmet. Ned's world stopped as he saw his old companion freeze. Then Jon let the handle of the weapon go, and Denys fell backwards, his armor clanking against the stone steps as the bells above continued to ring.

"DENYS!"

Yet the bells were overwhelmed by the sound of a shout from the other side of the square. Ned's world started once more, as he knew that voice, and he turned his head to see a familiar twelve-point rack stand above the crowd.

"Robert," he said, to himself or to those around him, Ned could not say, yet all that mattered was that it was true, that Robert Baratheon had joined the fray. Ned did not even think of the wound his friend had taken, as with one mighty swing, a half dozen men wearing red salmon were sent tumbling away. One of the Mooton men still remaining on his horse attempted to wheel around and attack Robert from above, only for Robert to raise his warhammer high above what any man should be able to, and then bring it down. The Mooton knight, horse, armor and all, crumpled beneath the strike.

"Connington!" Robert screamed, advancing forward over the screaming horse, the knight far too compacted to make any noise ever again, "I'll have your head Connington!"

Three of the same Smallwood men that had impeded Ned's charge stepped in front of Robert, only to be knocked aside, shattered bodies rolling along the ground. A few others who had been about to join them stopped, and began to turn away as the mighty stag advanced towards the Sept's steps. The remaining Mooton men were already in full flight, most abandoning the body of their commander to escape this apparent war god. It seemed to be a growing feeling among many of the men around them, as he saw men with green trees and catfish abandoning the square as well.

Connington, seeing this advance, readied his shield, and pulled loose his sword, the axe being left in Denys's skull. Ned couldn't understand what the man was thinking, perhaps Jon Connington thought he might be able to further the wound enough that Robert would die even if he lost. To Ned's mind, this was already over, and had been the moment Robert had shown he could fight.

Robert raised the hammer over his head once again, and slammed it down where Connington was meant to be. Jon had seen that before, and dodged to the right, clearly hoping to catch Robert in the downswing with a stab to the gut. However, as he did so, Robert, with merely one arm, pulled his hammer back, and then raised the other arm to steady the shaft so it deflected the strike outward. As the blade hopped behind Robert, the massive man turned, and gave himself a shot at Connington. He wasn't able to fully raise his hammer, but instead swung it slightly, but that was enough that when it hit Connington's shield, it broke the top right corner from it.

The impact of the shield and the splinters sent Jon forward, barely catching himself with each step. Finally, he stopped, and turned around, only to raise his shield once more to try and stop another strike from Baratheon's hammer. The shield this time completely shattered, though it had kept the hammer from fully connecting with Connington himself. Jon attempted to slice at Robert's throat, but the tip of the blade bounced along the front of the helm. Jon caught himself, and stabbed this time, but Robert, merely dodged to the left, and then slammed his helmet into Connington, sending him sprawling alongside the still screaming horse.

"Die you bastard!" Robert shouted, bringing his hammer down. Jon rolled away from the strike, meaning the hammer merely put the poor Mooton horse out of its misery. Connington returned to his feet, sword still in hand, though his face was a mess, as the slam of Robert's helmet had broken the Hand of the King's nose.

It was only then that Ned realized that the battle was well and truly over. Not only between Connington and Robert, but for the square of the town itself, with his allies slowly encircling the pair. Bryden Tully had slowly slipped onto the right side of this fight, his fight with the Rygers over. He was joined by his brother, as well as a half dozen knights of the Vale, their fights already won. And on the left side-

On the left side was Cu, still on his horse, the body of Lord Butterwell impaled through the chest on Steelbite. Cu seemed almost lazy as he watched the fight, the blood of the Lord of Whitehill pouring down onto his shoulder. Ned could sense fear from the those around him looking at the former wildling, and Ned only tempered his own fear from a knowledge that Cu would always be loyal to House Stark.

"Traitors!" Connington shouted, waving his blade at Robert, then the Tully's, then at Cu, and finally at Ned himself, "Traitors all of you!"

Robert did not even respond, merely swinging his hammer upward, and knocking the blade from the griffon's grip. As the sword was flung backward, Jon Connington realized he had no way to fight anymore. He seemed stunned at the realization, as he did not move a muscle, as Robert began to advance forward.

'Robert?' Ned asked, the Baratheon's posture not loosening his grip, 'Wait, he's unarmed, you can't ju-'

"Cuz!"

Ned was pulled from his thoughts when a horse burst out of one of the few uncovered streets into the square. The rider was all in armor, his chest adorned in the same crest as Jon Connington. Connington's eyes widened, and he seemed to stare up at the rider in front of him. Before he could say anything, the rider held out his hand, and Connington, likely seeing the battle lost, reached up and grabbed it, before being pulled onto the horse.

Robert, regaining his composure first, screamed and attempted to slam his hammer into the horse, but somehow the horse's hind hopped out of the strike. The horse began to make its way towards the nearby street, when Cu appeared between the opening and the rider.

"You aren't going anywhere," Cu held Steelbite out towards the opposing rider, only for the horse to keep coming towards that street. Cu, smirking at his next victory, shot his spear forward towards the horse itself-

"HIYAAH!" the rider shouted, as the horse suddenly jumped to the side, slamming its hooves into the nearby house. Cu, reacting on instinct, threw threw Steelbite back. The back end of the metal spear did collide with the head of the rider as the horse returned to the ground behind Cu, but it merely knocked the helmet to the side, as the Rider kept balance for himself and Jon Connington.

The horse then raced down the open street. Ned at first made to chase after them, but as he looked after his escaping foes, he was shocked to see that they seemed to be halfway out of town. By the time they'd actually organized the party for pursuit, it was likely that Connington would already be with the rest of his army gathered south of the Stoney Sept. Part of him grimaced that even though they'd managed to save Robert, they still had failed to win as fully as they could have.

"Ned!"

Ned was brought from his stupor by his Foster brother. Robert's anger seemed to have fallen, and now he was standing there, looking every bit like the laughing storm as Ned could have imagined. He'd missed his personal revenge, but Robert knew he would have something more soon enough, and now…now he was just glad to see Ned.

"Robert," Ned smiled to himself, waving his hand at the Baratheon, "It's good to see you alive."

"Ah!" Robert laughed, "You didn't think these lizard fuckers could kill me that easy, did you?" Robert smiled, before grabbing one of the surviving horses, "Come on," he pushed himself up onto it, "Let's go see if we ca-"

"Lord Baratheon?"

Robert turned to Hoster Tully, who was sitting on his horse proudly. For a moment, Robert seemed to resent the title, but he sighed and nodded. Ned could see the exhaustion from the men around him, whether they were from the North, the Vale or the River Lands. In the distance, to the South, Ned saw the remainder of the Royal Army slowly beginning to move, though they did not quite seem to be gathering for battle.

"What are they doing?"

"Likely preparing for a retreat," Bryden "Blackfish" offered, "We managed to surprise them and rout them from the town. They most likely think we are the van of all of our forces, and by seeing all of us here," he made a motion, "He likely thinks all of our forces are likely coming up soon, rather than a force of mostly calvary," the veteran of the last Blackfire Rebellion kept his eyes on the forces to the south, "Even if they knew, we have a walled town and enough men that they might fail to take it, and a loss like that would leave the way open for another army to go East to Kings Landing itself."

'So we have won,' Ned thought to himself. He had thought his first major victory in battle would be more heartening, but as he looked around, at the bodies of his friends and his enemies, he felt a pit in his stomach. He rode up to Robert, who was glaring out at the retreating form, but Ned could see that he was leaning against his horse, and his hand against his side. Ned placed a hand on the taller man's shoulder.

"Let's go to Riverrun Robert," he said, and felt relief as the massive rack of antlers nodded in assent. He looked over at Artoria, still almost a straight board in her saddle, and Cu, who was resting Steelbite along his shoulders. He sighed to himself, before adding, "There is much we must speak about."

Ned didn't like to look up along the Tumblestone Wall of Riverrun.

Riverrun was a triangle, with three walls, a northern one along the Tumblestone river, a southern wall along the Red Fork, and a western wall that had a large moat that could be filled with water if needed. Ned had found the system of gates to turn Riverrun into an island a marvel, though he had made sure to move through the dry moat as quickly as possible when he had been invited to move he and his entourage into the wall itself. He still continued to, he had just come from inspecting his camp of soldiers who were mixing with the Rivermen, Valemen, and Stormlanders.

Yet, he did not care to look over at that Northern wall when he walked through the strong yet compact castle. Along the wall were seven pikes, and on those pikes were seven heads. Ned had seen death, he'd seen heads lobbed from their shoulders since he had been five and his father had taken him and Brandon to see justice be dealt to a man who'd not been willing to join the Night Watch. Ned couldn't remember what crime the man had done, only that he had screamed fouly before Ice came down. Yet the proud display of a dead man's head was…distressing. More than once when passing beneath Hoster's Trophies had Ned reached up and massaged his own neck, thinking that he would prefer to avoid any chance that he might be given the same fate.

Though at least the men up along the wall had been in battle or already dead when their heads had been taken. Donnel and Ser Gorman Goodbrook, the Lord of Brookland and his cousin where the men that Artoria and Cu had slain in the initial push inside Stoney Sept. Ser Hober Smallwood had been killed by falling from his horse and breaking his neck during the Vale Knights initial charge into the square, and Ser Rickard Ryger, had been killed by a horse trampling him around the same time. Ser Robin Hawick had been Yohn Royce's conquest, and Lord Jon Butterwell had been the man who'd been killed by Cu in the square. The seventh head was actually a helm that had a massive dent in it, as they would not have been able to remove Ser Myles Mooton's head from the helmet that Robert had caved in without a massive spill of brains and other parts.

Hoster Tully had insisted on bringing these men's heads and displaying them to all. They had been men whose families had been sworn to the Tully's as their Lord Paramount, but they had decided to rise for the Targaryens against Hoster's wishes. Ned had seen several of the noble prisoners march beneath the heads as they were brought to Hoster's Solar to discuss having them reach out and call down their men from continuing to support the Targaryens. The memory of Lor Lymond Goodbrook, not yet thirteen, shaking while looking up at his father and uncle. The message had been received, with all the River Houses besides House Darry had sent their men home, with their Lords agreeing that they had broken their vows to the Tullys, and would pay well to atone for their transgressions.

'Of course,' Ned thought darkly, doing all he could to not stare into Gorman's one remaining eye, 'You hadn't declared yourself a rebel until they had already joined the royals. Perhaps they did not know you were their enemy until you rode through the gates of the Stoney Sept,' he then stopped in his tracks, and cursed himself, 'What are you thinking? This man has taken you in and thrown his lot in with you against the Mad King. And you dare question his honor?'

He shook his head, and made his way towards the tower he and his guards had been assigned, one with six rooms, enough that they could all have their rooms in pairs. The hospitality had been something Ned had been grateful for, as a real bed had been something he'd been wanting to sleep in for months. He had been heading there for a short rest after his inspection of his army, and a hope he might finally push some of this exhaustion from himsel-

"Yo Ned," Cu smirked as he opened the door that led to the tower with their room. Ned sighed as he saw his friend and companion smirking at him. He wasn't wearing his leather armor, instead dressing in a fine red silk cotte, fresh blue wool brais and no shoes upon his feet. In his mouth was a long reed, which he was playing with between his teeth. He leaned against the door, and Ned felt his left eye twitch as he looked over his companion.

"What are you wearing Cu?" he asked.

"Oh, just a few things I managed to scrounge up from the Trout's old attics," the former wilding laughed. Ned could only sigh again at the thought of Cu sneaking up into one of the towers to covertly nick a few of these clothes, only to groan, almost certain that Cu would not feel the need to attempt to hide such behavior. Ever since they'd returned from the Stoney Sept, Cu had been even more brash and brazen in his behavior.

"You know that you can't just keep acting like a fool Cu," The past few days had actually been marked by several complaints by other lords in the allied army complaining about how "Stark's hound", had been making himself a nuisance. As Cu just continued to smirk at him with the reed in his mouth, Ned continued, "For the Gods sake, the other lords won't tolerate more foolery from you."

"They will," Cu then pointed back at the wall, "After all, I brought in two of the Fish's new trophies myself," Ned could see a glint of blood lust in Cu's features, "He owes me."

"Perhaps he does," Ned conceded, walking up the stairway back to his room, with Cu following close behind, "That doesn't mean you aren't making my life more difficult."

"Ned," Cu cut in, his smile never wavering, as they stopped on the second floor where his and Willam Dustin's room was, "You know this is just who I am."

"And that appears to have been my great misfortune," Ned shot back, and then winced as he saw Cu's features fall. Ned was about to offer an apology, but he held his tongue, and continued up the tower.

"You don't mean that," Cu said, the puppy now desperately seeking absolution, "Come on Ned."

"Fine," Ned sighed. The sound of Cu's voice sounded far too much like Brandon or Lyanna, "I don't," he looked back, and could already see relief on Cu's face, "But please, at least try and keep some control of yourself."

"I'll do what I can," Cu added, before he added. Ned turned to make his way back to the room, yet as he did so, he heard Cu take several steps up behind him as he moved higher in the tower, Ned looked back and indeed did see the younger man following him upward.

"What are you doing Cu?"

"Ah, well," Cu said, "I've been meanin' to ask to have a private talk with you, and doing it while heading up to your room with no one else in the tower seemed like the best time to do it," he got so he was walking right next to Ned, "So, why don't we talk for a bit while no one else is here to listen in."

"Well Cu," Ned said, wanting to get to his room so he could attempt to rest his eyes for the afternoon, "I believe we aren't the only ones in the tower, Artoria is likely still in my room," before Cu could assume his customary smirk, Ned spoke up quickly, "And I also know we do not need to have this discussion," he remembered the Stoney Sept, "Artoria will still be joining the campaign if she wishes to."

It had been a point of contention on the ride back to Riverrun. Where at first only really Cu had stood up about Artoria being part of Ned's guard, the voices had grown louder once they had met up with their Southorn allies. Hoster in particular was shocked to see Artoria ride along with them during the attack down South, and even some other of Ned's Northern companions, like Martyn Cassel and Mark Ryswell had said it might be good for Artoria to remain in Rirverun for the rest of the war. Yet Artoria had said she still wanted to fight, and as far as Ned was concerned, until she was actually hurt, that was good enough for him.

"That's not who I wanted to talk about," Cu grumbled, "I know you can't stop letting that girl lead you around by your cock," Ned would have like to reach back and slap him, but decided that it wasn't worth the effort to do so, "No, I think we need to talk about your big burly friend."

"Wh-," asking that was a bit vague, as Ned had several followers who were quite massive, and Ned wasn't sure what Cu or the Great Jon had done if Cu needed to talk to Ned in private.

"I'm talking about Robert," Cu whispered under his breath, and Ned stopped and turned.

"What about Robert?" He felt something in his gut twist. He'd heard they had been out together in the camp the day before, "Did you anger him o-"

"Hells no," Cu chuckled, placing a hand on Ned's shoulder, likely trying to relieve him of his worries, though Ned could tell that his face did not reflect a loss of fear, as Cu seemed to grimace as he continued, "We had a great time," Ned was still probably giving him a look of disbelief, so he went even further, "We got drunk, we sang, we punched each other up a-oh come on Ned, you know he started it!"

Ned could feel himself breathing in far too quickly for his own good. The thought of Cu, a outsider of the outsiders, punching Robert Baratheon in the face made him fear for a horrible incident. The only thing that kept him from reaching out and strangling the man who he'd accepted as his dog…

"He probably did," Ned admitted through gritted teeth, "And he thought likely the whole thing a lark."

"That he did," Cu's laughter was sincere, and made Ned relax just an inch further, "Besides, he was plenty glad of it once he brought me down in arm wrestling," Cu just held up his right hand, and Ned shook his head, "Was close though, I almost got him down a couple of times, but that stag ain't nothin if he isn't strong."

"Yes," Ned could imagine Cu sitting across from Robert, their hands clinched together as they attempted to over power one another. He could do so since he had seen Robert in that exact situation a dozen times while they had gallivanted through the Vale as boys. They would land in an inn or a tavern on one of their adventures, and Robert would attempt to show his strength to all around him. And he'd always win. Whether it be against farmers, or knights, or even the odd clansmen, Robert would always overpower them. The Baratheon's strength was as unrelenting as a coming storm, and Ned was glad to have that on their side again for the coming battles.

"Well," Ned sighed to himself, "It cheers me to hear you and Robert are friends," Ned looked back down at Cu's room, his mind going to the Hound's roommate, "Not everyone seems to have taken to him as much as you have."

"Old Corpsy in one of his moods, huh?"

Cu had always had a way with new names for those around him. Corpsy was as fair enough moniker for Willam Dustin, he was the Lord of Barrowtown, but it did seem that Cu was still pushing his luck with the man. They may have become friends of a sort through Wyman Manderly's strange drink and a shared love of teasing Ned, but they both were still deeply proud men, and it was a near run thing that they had not yet come to blows again.

"I suppose you could say that," Ned admitted, "Willam has yet to tell me why he doesn't like Robert, though I have a few ideas."

It was likely because Robert was so much like Brandon. Willam and Ned's older brother had been foster brothers, quite like Ned and Robert, but the experience had left the Lord of Barrowtown cold to the then heir of Winterfell. He supposed the qualities that so endeared Robert to Cu were the same ones that picked at Willam so badly.

"I mean," Cu finally said, grabbing at Ned's shoulder, and pulling him upwards, "There is a problem though," Ned got closer, "During our time together, we ran into some whor-"

"Cu," Ned seethed, and Cu refrained from using that specific word."

"Camp followers," Cu said, "And Robert, well-"

"Don't tell me he actually sle-"

"Oh," Cu shook his head strongly, "Oh no, he didn't, he did his best to look away. But…well, he could barely keep his eyes off a few of them, and by the end of the knight he wasn't trying not to look at them anymore."

Ned slowly breathed out a bit of his worry, "At least I don't have to worry about him having another bastard," he sighed, "I am thankful that he's trying at least. It's against his nature to keep control of himself. Hopefully when we save Lyanna, having her there will finally chain up his lust."

Ned again looked at Cu, and saw something cross the younger man's face. Cu opened his mouth to say something, a frown clear across his features, but he stopped, and closed his mouth. He then opened it again, before his words died once more. Finally, he stopped, took in a deep breath, and then looked Ned clear in the eye.

"I don't think that's a good idea Ned."

"What?"

"Lyanna marrying Robert," Cu said flatly, "It would be a disaster."

"Cu," Ned felt knocked off his stance, "What's in you?" he generally couldn't imagine where this was coming from, "Why don't you think Lyanna should marry Robert?"

"Well, first of all, from everything Lynna ever said, she doesn't want to marry him," Cu said. Ned just raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, I know she said she didn't want to marry Robert," Ned admitted, "She even told me last I saw her," he remembered a confrontation after the melee, when Robert had provided her the trophy he'd won from the contest, a fine silk gown. Lyanna had taken it, but once she was back in the Stark tent had tossed it to the ground. Ned had been the only one to see, so he'd had to try and calm her, "But that is the way of the world. She was promised to Robert years ago, just as Brandon was promised to Catelyn Tully."

"She certainly wasn't happy about the idea of marrying a man who had a bastard already," Cu said, and Ned had to nod at that.

"Yes," Ned remembered how Lyanna had looked away at that, one of their last meetings, tears in her eyes, "I told her how hard Robert was trying to behave, and she said that "Love is sweet Ned, but it does not change a man's nature,"" Ned remembered seeing only the back of her after that. It wasn't a happy memory at all, "Yet, Robert was trying, he was trying harder than anything to prove he could be worthy of her," Ned remembered the conversation that he and his foster brother had had, "He said, "Ned, whatever I need to do, I'll do to please your sister," and by the Gods he tried and he succeeded. Yes, he might have had a bastard, but once he was married to her, and had her with him, he would be able to tame his lust, and love her as a husband should."

Cu just looked at Ned like he'd grown a second head. Hell, he looked at Ned like he'd grown a third head. The wild man sighed, before lending against the stone wall of the tower, and said, "You really don't hear what you're saying."

"Do you think so little of Robert that he wouldn't be willing to control himself with the woman he loved by his side?" it was an honest question. It seemed as long as someone was there to offer a counterpoint, Robert could keep other women out of his bed.

"Even if I did think he could," Ned noticed that Cu had avoided the actual meat of the question, but allowed him to continue, "I'm not sure he actually loves Lyanna."

Ned just stared at Cu for a moment, this time feeling like he'd been slapped in the face. He then broke out laughing, and for a moment, it felt nice to be able to release his pent up anxiety in laughter.

"Robert obviously loves her," Ned laughed, "He's fighting a war to have her back."

Cu just let Ned finish his laughter, all the while staring at him. Finally, after Ned was done, Cu began, "When I was hanging out with old Bobby Baratheon," Ned felt the desire to tell Cu off for using such a silly name to describe their leader, but he let it slide, "We talked about a lot of stuff. What's the better type of weapon, the better type of beer, which camp follower had better tits, ya know, fun stuff."

"I hope yo-"

"DIdn't have the time," Cu cut Ned off, and continued, "Well, anyway, that conversation ended with your buddy declaring that the whores all had fine tits, but none compared to Lyanna's," Cu leaned forward, "I love your sister Ned," Ned nodded at the surrogate little brother they'd brought into their pack, "But let me tell you, Lyanna's breasts ain't that great."

"Why are we talking about my sister's breasts?"

"Because they're part of the story," Ned continued, "And well, trying to keep our conversations going, I got him talking about Lyanna," Cu stopped, and his face twisted into a deeper frown, "Probably not my best idea, but, well, Robert started to describe what he like most about her."

Cu coughed into a fist, and then, "Oh, the lass is a beauty beyond compare," spoke in a shockingly good imitation of Robert Baratheon's voice, "Her hair is dark as midnight, and she has a love for riding horses along the fields," Ned almost snorted, the imitation was quite good, "And she has such a good humor, nothing enrages her, or angers her. Always calm when confronted with things that anger her, always in control, and always willing to take the winds of the world in stride. She cares for those around her beyond herself. She loves with her whole heart, and gives it to those who do not deserve it."

"That was good," Ned couldn't keep the laughter out of his voice as he spoke up. Yet, when Ned looked into Cu's face, there wasn't any merriment or frivolity. Cu's eyes were pointed directly forward, and Ned quickly close his mouth.

"Ned," Cu said, "Does that sound like Lyanna at all?"

"Of co…,"

"..."

"..."

"...Oh come on, you know her as well as I do," Cu finally said, and Ned sighed.

"No," Ned had to admit, "Those qualities," equanimity, calmness, placidity were not how he had ever pictured Lyanna. And willing to go with the flow was almost certainly something that her wolf blood would never allow, "Are not how I'd describe Lyanna."

"Ned," Cu said flatly, "It's how I'd describe you."

"...Me?"

"Robert thinks he's marrying you with tits Ned," Ned felt mortified by it, "Let's see, a proud and powerful man who is desperate for affection and a woman who will follow accommodate him in whatever way he needs her to," Cu placed a hand on Ned's shoulder, "You've been a fantastic brother to him Ned, always being there for him. But he for some reason thinks all Starks are the same, all the Starks are like you, and that he can have a version of you he can fuck."

"But-th-"

"I like Robert Baratheon," Cu said, "But even if we win this, even if we bring Lyanna home, she won't ever be what he wants," Cu looked to the ground, "What he needs probably."

They just stood there for the next few moment, Cu staring at the ground, and Ned, looking at him, trying to process what the hound had said. Finally, Cu turned on his heel, and walked back down the stairwell to his room, "Get some rest Ned, I heard the Old Falcon will be coming up soon to get you for a meeting."

Ned nodded as his friend left, and stared at the blue haired man's back as he rounded the tower, and disappeared back down towards his own room. He continued to stand there for a moment, still staring after the younger man, before sighing to himself.

'Robert…he loves Lyanna right,' he considered, before making his way up the stairs once more, 'He wouldn't be like this if he didn't love her, right?' though in the back of his mind, Cu's words picked up again, 'Or is it…the idea of Lyanna that Robert loves?'

As he processed these unpleasant thoughts, he finally arrived at the landing. This landing, being far higher up, only had one room. His room.

Well, his and his wife's room. Ned felt his cheeks blush again as he remembered the many adventures that he and his wife had already gone on in their short time together. That somehow an actual battle with the Dragons hadn't proven to be the deadliest of these was a testament to how much they'd already been through. Most couples wouldn't experience what they'd had in a lifetime, while they'd done so in less than a year.

Yet he and she had not done the duty that was most central to marriage. Ned was fairly sure that Artoria at least liked him now, they had had more than a few conversations about life and interests during their travel down to Riverrun, but he still didn't know if she actually wished to be his wife. And…well, he wasn't about to force her to perform that duty with a man she didn't love, he could imagine hurting her like that.

Yet it had seemed inevitable that they would keep being put in situations that almost seemed tailor made to have them finally lay with one another. There had been the hot springs of Winterfell, which had lead to most of the army thinking he and Artoria had already had sex. Due to Artoria not packing her own tent, they'd shared one on the way down, with Ned allowing her his cot, Ned would always seek to accommodate his lady, while he used blankets to sleep on the ground. Then they had been given a room together every single night, with Ned continuing to take to the ground, except the one time that they stayed in an inn in Fairmarket. The room was so small, and the bed so large, that the only way they could both lie down was on the bed. They had remained fully clothed throughout it, and Ned was quite sure neither had gotten any sleep.

So it had been no surprise that they had been given a room together, with Hoster Tully having heard the rumors about how…active he and Artoria were in their marriage. Ned hadn't even attempted to dissuade Hoster, as he knew it was already to late. Most of the army thought that the only reason Artoria was coming down was so Ned didn't have to lay with a whore, some strange version of Stark honor. Almost everyone was surprised when Artoria actually appeared in full armor.

Ned finally opened the door to their room, and nodded to himself as he saw what he expected. Artoria was where he expected her to be, laying on the bed, in a normal tunic and pants but none of her more formal wear. His wife had taken to sleeping a great deal more since the Battle of the Bells, and he did not blame her.

'I am still tired from the terror,' Ned admitted to himself as he silently closed the room, 'And for a girl of sixteen, it can't have been easy to nearly die.'

There was a part of him, just a small part, that wondered if Cu had been right. That it would be better to leave her here, in Riverrun…but he quickly determined that wouldn't be for the best. She had insisted on riding to battle with them, and unless she asked to stop, he would allow her to ride until they were done.

'It's not like she doesn't have the right idea,' Ned thought to himself, slowly slipping down into a lounging chair on the side of the room. He didn't feel like laying out blankets to sleep on the floor like usual, 'Just a few hours, and I might be able to recover myself,' he closed his eyes, 'I shall only need a moment to-'

"Eddard?"

Ned woke with a start, pushing himself nearly out of his chair. He nearly reached for his sword, but as he did so, he felt there was nothing attached to his hip, and his mind slowly recognized where he was once more. He stopped, looked up, and saw Artoria, in the process of putting on a formal blue doublet, staring at him from across the room.

"Eddard," she continued, looking at him in the eye, "Jon Arryn is waiting outside," she said firmly. For a moment, Ned wondered why Jon Arryn would be waiting, before remembering that he had been told that his Foster Father would be coming soon. He looked out the window, and cursed when he suddenly saw the orange rays of the sunset, "I am sorry, but I thought it would be best to let you rest for a while. You didn't wake when he knocked, so I imagined you needed some sleep."

"I…," Ned slowly reached his fingers up, and wiped away the sleep from his eyes, before nodding, "I probably did need some more sleep," he admitted, noticing that despite the uncomfortable angle he had been sleeping, he was feeling more refreshed, "Thank you Artoria."

"Of course Eddard," she nodded her head.

"...," Ned looked at her, and thought for a moment. He finally reached his feet, and began to go through the small cupboard that he'd placed his formal doublet within. He would need to be prepared for the meeting as well, so might as well use the time to prepare to be presentable. As he began to put it on, he looked over at the mostly finished Artoria, and remembered for a moment the battle they had just survived.

"I must thank you again," Ned said, watching her finish lacing the top of the shirt. She stopped, and looked at him for a second, before continuing.

"Think nothing of it," she said stiffly, "You are my lord, was my duty to you."

Ned stopped, and stared at the girl. Clearly, she wasn't understanding that most Lords' wives don't ride off to battle and save their lords' lives because they stupidly got thrown from their horse. He shook his head, before adding.

"Tis not just a duty-"

"But it is-"

Ned stopped, realizing just how quickly Artoria had cut off the conversation. As he stood there still for a moment, he considered what she was doing, before finally saying.

"Is something wrong?"

"No!" Artoria then seemed to realize that shouting that so quickly had given away that, yes, something was wrong. She let out a sigh, before quickly adding, "Nothing that should worry you my lord," she stopped, "Nothing at all Eddard."

"Does not sound like it was nothing to me," Ned Stark said firmly, the last bit of lace being tied in. He turned towards the girl, the beauty that had somehow flown into his life and stolen his heart and his life in such a strange and magnificent way. There was no way he would allow her to simply stew in whatever was gnawing at her, "You can tell me what is bothering you," he placed a hand on her shoulder, and nearly winced as she seemed to flinch away at the touch, before stopping. Her green eyes met her gray, and for a moment they just stood there. Ned could tell she was trying to come up with the right words, and finally, after a few moments, she began to sputter.

"I was so sure I could…I thought it wouldn't bother me," she began, "I'd…I've read about what it was like in books, and the Masters and Septas told me what sort of things happen," she just shook her head, "But, when it first pierced through…the blood…it was-"

'She's talking about her first kill,' Ned suddenly understood better. Despite her prodigious skill on horseback or with a blade, Artoria certainly wouldn't have killed before. To her battles were simply tourneys that mattered more. When she had impaled Donnel Goodbrook, she had been given a close quarters introduction to what war was. The knights she defeated in these bouts were unlikely to ever get back up.

'Explains why she froze,' Ned thought, 'she just killed a man, it likely shocked her.'

"Artoria," Ned noticed his words calmed her, as she looked up again into his eyes, "You know you don't have to do it again if you aren't comfortable," better to give her the option to leave, let her get out if she wanted.

"I want to though," she said quickly, "I…it's my duty to you Eddard," she looked up at him, "I…"

Ned really didn't want to debate what he was owed as Artoria's husband. He was just glad that it seemed to be coming more from her own affection, rather than what her father had put inside her head a proper lady should do. Ned let his hands go from her shoulder, and then stared at the Lannister girl, smiling all the while.

"We both have a duty to each other," Ned said, "We have a duty to care for one another, so just let me know how best to manage this all."

"Yes Eddard," Artoria nodded. Ned could only smile before turning towards the main door. Artoria swiftly followed him out of it. She would be able to act as a sort of proxy for her father, despite him not formally joining the Rebellion, and she was of high enough birth that no one would question it.

When Ned opened the door, he saw a much older man standing out in front of him. His sigil of a White Falcon on a blue tunic was clear even in the setting sun, though the beak of the bird was slightly covered in his long white beard. He was slightly hunched over, owing to his growing number of years. And on his face was a bright smile as he looked Ned in the eye, pride seeming to flow out the older man and onto Ned.

"Ned," Jon Arryn said, "I am so proud of you."

"...what?"

"Oh, nothing," Jon chuckled as he looked and saw Artoria, "Let's get on to Hoster's Solar, we have a last few preparations to make," He then nodded at Ned's wife, who nodded back, doing her best to maintain courtesy with Ned's Foster Father. Jon turned, and motioned Ned and Artoria to follow him, which they swiftly did, "We should be able to leave in six days for the Trident."

'That will mean it will have only just over two weeks since the Battle of the Bells,' he shook his head, 'Gods above, we are taking our time.'

"That is good," Ned admitted, and he could see Jon nod, "Though I must ask Jon," the old man looked back, stopping his descent down the stairs, and looking back at Ned, "Any particular reason we aren't leaving on the morrow?"

"Yes, well," the old man spoke up, the words resembling his age quite a bit more now, "I can say negotiations with Hoster Tully have made a final breakthrough. He's a slippery trout Hoster," Ned winced, hoping that none of the Tully servants heard him, "But, he managed to get what he wanted in the end."

"A marriage," Ned noted, not even bothering to look back at Artoria. He knew that on some level Hoster had been counting on having Ned to marry his daughter off to, to make the whole rebellion really worth his while. But with his Lannister wife, Hoster didn't dare attempt to try and set her aside. No, instead, that mean-

"Two marriages, one here, and one later," Jon nodded. Ned could hear the frustration in Jon's voice. Jon had always been a man of words and planning, not battle, so it had made sense that he'd be the one assigned to negotiate the Lord of Riverrun's entrance into battle. Hoster had already fought with them of course, but Hoster turning on them would almost certainly end the Rebellion in defeat, so he was likely seeking his due. And that due had to deal with his two daughters.

"So the first is-"

"Mine," Jon Arryn sighed, "I'd hoped that Denys Arryn would be my heir for a time, but with his death, my family is on its last leg. I will not feel happy with marrying young Catelyn," Ned winced at the thought of Catelyn going from the young and dashing Brandon to the more elderly old man in Jon Arryn, "But if that helps bring down Aerys, I would marry a dozen girls like her."

"And what of the other marriage?"

Jon turned back to look at Artoria.

"Why, the marriage of will be once we win," Ned quickly realized who they were talking bout, "After all, If he can't have grandchildren be Lord of Winterfell, he might still have a grandchild as the Lord of Storm's End," Jon sighed, "Well, as long as young Stannis manages to keep himself alive.

AN: Sorry this took longer than a week. This is actually way behind the actual output of the story. The main thread where this is written is on Spacebattles. You should check the site out, lot of fun Fanfiction Threads that might be better considering how always seems to be in decline.