Dorne: 283 AC: 1 Day Later:
Ghost Hill was finally in sight, Arthur breathing a breath of relief as he laid his dark blue eyes upon the castles white walls from a hill a few minutes ride from the castle. Atop the walls, the green dragon of House Toland could be seen and Arthur wondered if they would recognize him before he even made it to the ship. He would certainly kill any man who did if it came to it. Before the castle, lay a small village, its dust tracks leading to a small harbor that bore a ship with white sails. Varys was true to his word after all, a rare thing for one such as him. Behind Arthur, his men were exulted at the sight of the ship just as much as Arthur was. The last day they had spent in Dorne had been the hardest. The heat of the desert sun had almost become to much for them and their horses. However, Arthurs only concern was for the baby they carried with them.
"Finally, we can get out of this cursed desert." One of the men behind Arthur cheered.
"Calm yourselves. We must first gather provisions for the journey to Dragonstone, it may take some moons." Arthur replied, attempting quell the excitement behind him.
A murmur of agreement was heard behind him as one they rode from the hill and to the village before them all. Arriving at the village, all six of them drew suspicious looks from the smallfolk that inhabited the place. None more so than the Midwife who held the baby Aemon. Perhaps they wondered if she was some high born lady with a personal guard coming to see those from House Toland. Arthur took no chances on any suspicion being raised about who they were as he he cut a piece of cloth meant for the Prince and wrapped it around the pommel of Dawn. If they did not recognize him, they would certainly recognize his sword. Once in the center of the village, they all dismounted and set about looking for provisions. Having no coin they bartered with their horses, having little use for them any more. They spent time bartering for bread and milk, dried meats, soft fruits, anything they could think of that they needed, they bought. As they finished they made their way to the ship, the men aboard just as on edge as they were. As they approached, the sailors gripped the hilts of their swords tightly as if expecting a confrontation.
"Halt! Who goes there?" One of the larger sailors shouted.
Arthur sighed, not wanting to shout his name for everyone on the docks to hear. "Is there a man in charge I could speak to?" He asked.
"Wait there!" The man shouted back at him.
A few moments later an even larger man with blonde hair appeared on the deck of the ship. "Ser Willem Darry?" Arthur asked astonished. "Varys sent you?"
Willem laughed at Arthurs bewilderment. " He did. I was sent word to come to Dorne the moment you left the Tower, Sword of the Morning. Come aboard. Quickly."
As one, Arthur and his party boarded the ship and settled in. Arthur and Willem locked in eager conversation with one another as they went below deck and to Willems private quarters. "Do you have the King, Ser Arthur?" Willem asked, the concern showing in his eyes.
"I do. He is with the Midwife."
"Gods be good." Willem breathed. "We must depart as soon as possible. Dorne is not safe for those who are true to the King."
"How long before we do."
"An hour at most. There are only some final preparations that need to be made before we go to Dragonstone." Willem smiled. "Bring your Midwife to these quarters with the Prince. I assure you nothing bad will come to him."
Arthur did as he was bid and brought the Midwife down to Willems quarters. He spent some time talking with the woman. Asking of her name and family and if she would like to go home when all this was done. She was lowborn but had grown fond of baby Aemon. She promised Arthur and Willem that she would protect him as if he was her own child, something that made both men smile. With that Willem left his quarters and began to help his sailors around the ship. He helped men tie knots on masts and helped Arthurs own men bring their provisions on his ship. Arthur watched as he did so and noticed how the mans hands would shake, the nerves perhaps becoming too much for him. Arthur then took the time to remove the cloth from the pommel of Dawn. Where he was going he had no need to hide who he was. After some more time, his fear began to grow as he could hear voices of men not of his own making conversation of those that were of his own. Stepping out onto the deck he saw Willem shouting down at some men on the docks. Their banner flying high, the green of the dragon catching the reflection of the sun, marking them as men loyal to House Toland.
"No. We're not pirates." Willem shouted. "Simply merchants."
"Then you wouldn't mind us looking around your ship then, would you?" The scarred man on the docks shouted back. Behind him flanked four more men, all bearing arms.
"I cannot, I'm afraid lads. I have very fragile stock. Can't have you breaking anything down there." Willem laughed, attempting to sound as innocent as possible.
"What are you transporting?" Another man asked.
"Glass, my Lord. Headed for Kings Landing. The city will need rebuilding after the sack and there's lots of coin to be made if you have the materials."
An eerie silence grew over the Toland men before the one with the scar spoke up. "Fine...fine be on your way, but I want you to make it worth my while."
"As you say, my Lord." Willem exclaimed as he threw the man a coin purse. Satisfied with himself, the man with a scar began to turn away. However one of his men, never took his eyes off of Arthur, or his sword.
"Say, that is a fine sword you have there." He shouted as Willem turned around to face the stunned Arthur, his eyes wide with horror.
"My sword? I won it in a game of chance."
"Must have been a rich opponent. Who was he?" The man smiled.
"Ah, his name escapes me. I'm afraid." Arthur falsely smiled.
"How convenient. Come closer, I would like to get a good look at it."
Arthur acquiesced to the mans demands and walked off of the ship to the man on the docks below. Arthurs own men and Willem stood frozen on the deck, watching everything. Their hands gripped tightly around their sword hilts.
"Unsheathe it. I want to see the blade." The man demanded, his features becoming colder.
Arthur sighed and did as he was bid. Unsheathing Dawn and allowing its beauty to shine. Its blade as pale as milkglass, alive with light. "Quite the beauty. Say, wasn't some riders asking about someone wielding a sword like this, Stevron?" The man shouted to the scarred man behind him, his dull eyes never leaving Arthurs own.
"Said they were an enemy of the Crown if I remember. Said the sword he had would have a golden star on its pommel. Said he had a large bounty on his head. Dead or alive." The scarred man smirked as he slowly unsheathed his blade.
Arthur smiled. "You made a mistake, Sers." His eyes narrowing.
"The only mistake made he-." The mans voice was cut off along with his head. Dawn doing the honors.
The four men left in front of Arthur looked stunned as the headless corpse of their comrade dropped to the ground with a sickening thud. Before any more words could be said, Arthur rushed the remaining men. The scarred man attempted to block Arthurs thrust to no avail, Dawn effortlessly piercing leather and flesh alike as the man fell. Before the remaining three men could even draw their swords, Arthur cut them down as if he were a farmer cleaving chaff in a field. Their eyes wide with horror as he let Dawn go about its bloody business. Wiping the blood off of Dawn on the dead men's cloth, Arthur turned around to see Willem and his men on the deck with their swords drawn, the look of disbelief evident on their faces. Arthur smirked at their reactions. He knew how good he was. He wouldn't let it go to his head though as killing men such as these held no honor or glory. He only did his duty to his King.
"Thank you for the help." Arthur chuckled as he made his way back aboard the ship and placing Dawn on his back.
"Are you mad? Do you want to put the Princes life in danger, hm? Draw every man with a sword to us?" Willem questioned, sheathing his sword.
"They weren't going to let you go, Willem, don't be so naive. The threat to the King is gone."
"They would have if you hadn't shown up on deck." Willem accused.
"Enough Willem. What's done is done. Let us depart and get to Dragonstone before the Toland's notice their men missing." Arthur snapped as he went below deck.
Willem sighed and rubbed his temples. "You two. Dump those bodies in the water. Especially that banner." He said, pointing at two of his sailors.
The two men did as they were bid and dumped the bodies in the water around the docks. Arthur hadn't noticed at the time but many people saw what he just did to those five men as the docks were full of workers. It would only be a matter of time before somebody told the Lords at Ghost Hill what had happened. By then Arthur would be leagues away and on Dragonstone, if the Gods were willing that is. Once the sailors had reboarded the ship, Willem gave the order to set sail with haste. Arthur breathed a sigh of relief. Finally he had put Dorne behind him and all the harrowing things that occurred there, at least physically he had. He felt as though the memories of his fallen brothers would remain until he breathed his last.
He went back to Willems quarters and checked on the baby Aemon, happy to see he was sleeping soundly. The Midwife was concerned with the blood on Arthurs clothes, however he reassured her none of it was his and spared her the grim details of what occurred. Arthur lay on the bed in the quarters, hoping to get some rest and regain his strength. All of it would be needed for the trails to come.
Kings Landing: 283 AC: The Same Day
Barristan stood in the throne room looking upon the empty iron chair before him. The room around him stood as empty as the throne, save for the noise of servants going about their cleaning. Everything he had ever done was for those who belonged to sit in that throne he now looked upon. To see it disgraced by a man he silently named a usurper, enraged him so. Being forced to serve him angered him even more. Had he been present when Robert smiled at the bodies of the slain Targaryen children, he felt nothing could have stopped him from killing the Stag then and there. How he wished he died on the Trident along side his silver Prince, an honor he so craved. If only Robert listened to Roose Bolton when he told him he should have his throat cut for being loyal to the King. Something they all should have been. Although Barristan himself silently admitted his own loyalty waxed and waned in the final years of King Aerys' reign, he would never out right rebel. He swore an oath. One he intended to keep. Barristan's thoughts turned to his outlaw brother, Arthur Dayne. He smiled at the thought of him slaying all those who would dare harm the true King. If he could be there with him now, he would. Only if he knew where he was. Before Barristan could continue to fantasize he was interrupted by the large doors behind him opening to reveal Robert Baratheon storm in arguing with his brother.
"I don't care how much it costs, Stannis. I want a fleet built and I want it done now." Robert exclaimed.
"Robert, it will take moons before it is ready and by the time it is built, those on Dragonstone could be gone." Stannis attested.
Roberts anger grew at the mere mention of those he hated so much. "Do it regardless, I care not for the trivialities of it."
"As you wish, Robert." Stannis huffed before turning away.
Barristan looked upon the usurper as he walked past him. Despite his mind deteriorating in the past days as he struggled to cope with the loss of both Lyanna and Eddard Stark, he still looked like the warrior he knew him to be. His long black hair and beard painted him as a picture of the Father himself, whereas his tall stature made him look as though he was giant from the stories he used to read as a child. However, his impatient nature showed every time Barristan saw him. It made him wonder if he would be a good King or if he would be a rash King as Aerys was. Only time would tell. Robert stopped before Barristan, looking the man up and down as he did so and smiling.
"Now here is a man I am glad to see. A true warrior. Not like all these men of politics in this gods-forsaken city. How are your injuries faring?" Robert asked, his smile beaming the whole time.
"Better with each passing day, my Lord." Barristan responded.
"Good...good, when you have the time Barristan, come and see me in my solar. I have a task required of you."
"I will be there, my Lord."
"Good man." Robert chuckled before walking away.
Barristan had a sinking feeling in his stomach that he knew what Robert was to ask of him. Surely the mans senses hadn't left him this much. To ask him something that he would consider to be most dishonorable. Even with his hatred, surely someone else was more fit for the task he thought he would be asked to do. Barristan sighed at the thought and slowly made his way to Roberts solar. The walk through the Red Keeps halls always being a harrowing one for him, ever since the end of the Rebellion all he saw was the ghosts of those he swore to protect. Arriving at the solar, Barristan nodded to the guard outside who knocked on the door for him. Roberts booming voice bidding him to enter. Inside, Barristan found Robert sitting opposite Jon Arryn. The air was heavy with the smell of wine as if both men had spent the day drinking, Robert more than Jon, Barristan presumed.
"Ah, Ser Barristan. Please sit." Jon smiled, motioning to the seat beside him.
Barristan did as he was bid and slumped into the chair, a heavy sigh escaping him as the weight lifted off of his injured leg. His eyes turned to the Stag in front of him.
"I have a task of you, Barristan. When your injuries heal I need you to hunt down that fucking Dayne and the Dragonspawn he is protecting." Robert spat, evidently still not over Arthurs killing of Eddard Stark.
Barristan's heart sank. His worse fears have come true. Robert was seriously asking him to kill one of his Sworn Brothers. "I cannot accept, my Lord." Barristan bluntly replied.
Roberts eyes narrowed. "Barristan, your the best fighter I have at my disposal. Any other man I send after him will end up dead."
"We were Sworn Brothers, my Lord. I cannot dishonor myself to do it." Barristan retorted.
"Were. Were Sworn Brothers. Or have you forgot so easily that you bend your knee to me now?" Fumed Robert, losing any respect he had for Barristan in his anger.
"My Lord, you cannot possibly ask this. It is as if I asked you to kill Eddard Stark." Barristan argued.
Robert stood up in his chair, his fists clenched. "Do not speak to me of Ned!" He yelled. "I am commanding you to do this, Barristan. Refuse me and I will have no more use for you."
Barristan was shocked that Robert would disregard his honor so easily as this. To ask him, no command him, to kill Arthur Dayne. The thought sickened him. Until another thought entered his mind. A thought of opportunity. Barristan sat there a moment, the bright blue eyes of Robert staring through him. As he thought it through, this could be exactly what he needed. A way out.
"Very well, my Lord. If you command it, it shall be done." Barristan smiled, appearing as docile as possible.
Robert sat back down, his anger turning to relief as he began to sip his wine. "Good...good. Once you have healed, you will find him and kill him. Do not fail me, Barristan."
"I won't, my Lord. I swear it on my honor."
Robert smiled at Barristan's reply knowing that the knight staked his honor higher than anything else. Happy with Barristan's acceptance, Robert dismissed him from his solar and watched him leave. Turning his gaze to Jon Arryn, the old Falcon eyed him with an approving look. "Very well played, Robert." Jon smirked.
Robert looked down into his glass of wine, unable to look Jon in the eye. "It is dishonorable. What we are doing, Jon." He sighed.
"Some may see it that way, yes. But Arthur Dayne is an enemy of the Crown now and justice must be brought down on him. Do you not want to see him dead, Robert?" Jon asked, knowing just how to inflame Roberts emotions.
"More than anything." He growled.
"Very well then. Selmy will lead us to him and the Dragonspawn. If he does not have the strength to do what must be done, we will." Jon remarked, as if ordering the deaths of both a knight and baby had become as easy as ordering his wine to be brought to him.
Robert said nothing in reply, his mind still filled with the thoughts of his dead loved ones and the vengeance he swore to bring upon those who had killed them.
Riverrun: 283 AC: The Same Day:
Hoster Tully sat in his solar and rubbed his temples. All the plans he had made had now become naught but ash in the dragons flames. The news of Eddard Stark's death had sent ripples through his House. His daughter Catelyn had become inconsolable and she believed herself to be cursed when it came to marriage. First the death of Brandon Starks death and now Eddard's own. The only solace she found was in the birth of her son, Robb Stark. The new born Lord of Winterfell would need all the help he could get. So now this led to Hoster sitting at his desk with his brother Brynden sat opposite him. Hoster called on his brother personally, seeing him as the only man capable of solving a situation such as the one he now found himself in.
"What is it you want, Hoster?" Brynden asked.
"I'm sure you've learnt of Eddard Starks death by now, Brynden. My daughter has become most troubled by the news." Hoster sighed.
"Yes, Cat has become incorrigible. The only time I've seen her calm is when she is with her young boy." Brynden said, his features almost apologetic
"That is why I've asked you here, Brynden. The boy."
Brynden's widened at what he believed his brother was asking him. "You want me to take him as my Ward?"
"I do, Brynden. Lets not play coy with one another. We may have our differences, but you're the only man I trust with supporting Cat at this time and the boy will need a hardened warrior such as yourself to teach him all the right things he needs to know." Hoster flattered. "The thought of her being alone in Winterfell surrounded by snow and ice is not a future I want for my daughter."
"I don't know what to say, Hoster. I can hardly deal with a marriage let alone raising a child."
"Speak to Cat. See what she has to say on the matter." Hoster's eyes looking to the door.
"If you insist." Brynden sighed.
Brynden got up and left his brothers solar. The walk through the halls of Riverrun brought many fond memories to him. Memories of his childhood and playing with his friends. Despite all the dark times that are currently unfolding, the memories at least brough a small smile to his face. Arriving at the nursery, Brynden looked to find Catelyn sitting alone. Her long, auburn hair was matted and frazzled, as if she had not slept for days. Her eyes were sunken and dark circles appeared around them. Walking towards her Brynden offered a soft smile to his niece, one which she returned. In her arms he saw her only source of joy, the young Stark. Taking a seat beside her, he offered her words of comfort even though he felt they would have little effect on her.
"He is beautiful, Cat. He has your eyes." Brynden began.
"He is, isn't he?" Catelyn croaked, her voice hoarse from her hours of sorrow. "Did my Father send you?"
"He did, Cat. He wants me to take Robb as my ward and help you raise him. The idea of you being alone in Winterfell is not one he looks forward to."
"Of course I would welcome your help, Uncle." Her voice perked up slightly. "If you won't do it for my Father, do it for me. Please?"
Once she pleaded for him to help her raise her child, Brynden's mind was already made up. Saying his goodbyes to Catelyn and placing a kiss on his nephews forehead, he left the nursery and made his way back to his brothers solar. Inside he found Hoster staring out of the window onto the rushing rivers that surrounded the castle. "Well, Brynden?" He asked, turning to face his brother.
"I'll do it, Hoster. I'll raise the boy."
Hoster smiled at Brynden, for the first time in what felt like an age. Together they shared a glass of wine and to Brynden it felt as if they were young men again and there had been no differences between them at all. To Hoster however, he was just finally happy that he was living up to the family words of Family, Duty and Honor and not the Blackfish name he had become so accustomed to calling him.
A/N: Thanks to everyone who's read and reviewed. Means a lot still. In regards to this chapter some people may think it's a bit far fetched for Robert to losing his head and becoming like the mad king but I don't think it's that absurd or anything like that. The guy lost his best friend and future wife on the same day so I think that would make anyone lose their marbles a bit. I doubt I'll end up making him as bad as the mad king but we'll see just how far he's willing to go to get his revenge. Any suggestions or ideas feel free to tell me, I'm more than happy to implement and take on anything I think is good enough. Again many thanks for reading.