Chapter Text
Ned
He couldn't stop it now. Aerys had called for his head and there was no stopping it; Aerys had to go. He though back to what Ashara had told him of Rhaegar before they parted.
'Single-minded, but kind and intelligent. He fancies himself a poet more than a prince. Foolish at times, but never cruel.'
Not the sort of man who kidnapped and forced women, not the sort who frequented brothels. Lyanna was not the sort of woman easily kidnapped. These things did not go well with what he had been told by one of the men in this room.
Hoster Tully sat across from them, his hair thinning and going to gray, but vigorous otherwise. Brynden Tully sat beside his brother in a suit of black mail. Jon Arryn was beside him, reserved and aloof. It was all a sham, but if he did this wrong he had no doubt he would die. He hoped Ashara would be safe in that scenario, but he doubted it. These men were supposed to be friends, Jon Arryn was supposed to be like a father, but if Ashara was right, they had used his family to generate the war they needed.
"Robert is trapped at Stoney Sept. A force led by Jon Connington advances on him from King's Landing," Jon said. Robert had somehow become the central figure, and only now did he see Lord Jon's game, Hoster's game... father's game? Robert had nothing about him other than his charisma. He was a peerless warrior, but not much of an actual tactician. The man had been Lord of Storm's End for over four years now, and had spent less than six moons there. Lord Jon encouraged it. That made no sense. He was no longer blind to Robert's faults, as he had been when Lyanna begged him.
"I will need each of you to wed one of my daughters. That is the price of my alliance," Hoster said.
"Done," Jon said.
This was it, he'd been preparing for it. "No. You have less than one third of your banners that you can call on. Your army is not worth two marriages to Lords Paramount. Under the terms my father negotiated, full banner support was part of the marriage."
Hoster Tully glared at him, Brynden was unreadable.
Jon put a hand on his shoulder, and he shook off the impulse to shrug it off. "Ned," he began in a fatherly tone. "We have no choice, not if we wish to save Robert."
He turned to stare at Jon and said nothing. Eventually Jon removed his hand.
"One marriage should do this, Lord Jon, don't act like it won't. He's trying to play tough, but the truth is he has to get on our side now because he sat the fence too long and his banners started fighting anyway, most of them. I could walk up to Tytos Blackwood right now and he'd fight under my banner, not Riverrun's. That's half of what you intended us to get from you," he said quietly. "Lord Hoster, I will not be marrying either of your daughters, for the reason I have given, and also because I'm a man wedded and bedded."
"WHAT?!" Lord Jon asked. "When? Who? You will set her aside!"
"It's done before Gods and Men," he replied. "If the marriage is so important, have Robert's brother do it when time allows."
A slight smirk on Brynden Tully's face. The man winked at him?
Hoster Tully's face contorted in soundless rage, but the man still said nothing as his face approached the color of a pomegranate.
"Ned, this is no game..."
"No, Lord Jon, it isn't. But you've been playing one with me for some time. When did you know you intended to make Robert King? Was it when he was betrothed to my sister?" He asked, staring at the older man to judge his reaction.
Jon said nothing, but the flash of acceptance was there. Gods, he should kill them both right now, but then he'd never walk out alive.
"Aerys Targaryen has a price on my head, but that doesn't mean I won't negotiate. I am young, but that doesn't mean I won't negotiate. Robert is in danger, I'm still going to negotiate," he said, his voice growing stronger in the absence of another speaker.
Ser Brynden snorted. Did the man think this a jape?
Hoster spoke in a soft voice that he imagined was supposed to be intimidating. It wasn't. "Your father agreed to this boy. You are obligated."
"And so are you, but you can't provide, so why should I?" He leaned in to look at the older man. "You look at me and name me boy, well, this boy's army is two and half times the size of yours. I don't take orders from you." He'd not even had to give Ashara's name, they'd simply taken him at his word after that. He played on Robert's well-being heavily with Jon, and it worked. Stannis would wed Lysa when the war was over, Jon married Cat that day. A Lord Paramount and the future king's brother was more than enough for what Hoster could give them.
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It was done, after a fashion, and they freed Robert from Stoney Sept. They were riding to the Ford now, where they would hopefully meet the crown's forces. He'd been able to learn nothing about who told Brandon it was a kidnapping, everyone sent him to someone else, which meant it was definitely Hoster. The man took a wound at Stoney Sept, so he tried to give him some leeway, but this whole war was horse shit, and Hoster had spread it. He was trying to talk to Robert without Lord Jon around.
"They lied to us, Robert, Hoster and Jon both. The lie got my family killed, they got my family killed," he said, just loudly enough to be heard by the man beside him.
"They took your sis-"
"Don't tell me you still believe that, Robert, not you," he said. "Not now, after you've gone through every whore in the Riverlands. You used to love Rhaegar, so don't tell me you think him a rapist."
Robert hung his head. "We got no choice now, Ned. The mad bastard wants our heads."
"So I'm to pretend these men are friends? The ones who cost my family?" He asked.
Robert was angry, which was normal when he got confused, especially if he was sober. "Nothing else we can do. It was a good plan, they won."
"If you become king?"
Robert shook his head. "Can't punish men who fought for me."
They had refused to let him attend parlay, saying... they'd given no good reason. He could make out Rhaegar arguing animatedly with Robert and Lord Jon, but he already knew it would go nowhere. He couldn't ride off, he couldn't sit out, he'd have to fight, like it or not he was in for the full race on this one. The sack of King's Landing. He'd seen girls as young as six raped to death by Tywin's army. The man needed to die. He saw what happened in the throne room. The man needed to die. Robert saw no babes, only Dragonspawn. His friend had changed. He lifted the siege at Storm's End, such as it was. The whole thing was a big damn mummery.
Which found him and six of the finest men he'd ever known faced off against three of the finest knights in Westeros.
But he was kin to one of them.
"Goodbrother," he said quietly.
Arthur nodded. "You have a son, Stark. She named him Jon, though the Gods know why, Jon Arryn is disgusting."
His heart began racing. "Is she well?
"She and the babe are fine," Arthur said, smiling slightly. Relief for worries he'd not known he bore came to him.
As serious as what they were about was, he found himself smiling. He did not want to die.
"Is there a way out of this that doesn't end in blood?" He asked his Goodbrother. "I just want to see my sister, and I want to take my family home."
Arthur looked to Ser Gerold, the oldest of the knights. "She's poorly, Stark. Her babe... was stillborn. She's not like to survive the fever. You can see her."
The midwife was an old woman, who simply shook her head sadly. Lyanna... she looked half a skeleton, and the stench of blood was everywhere. She held a crown... the crown Rhaegar gave her at Harrenhall. Ashara had been right about everything, and there was nothing he could do about it now, there hadn't been since Aerys called for his head.
"Ned?" Her voice struggled to carry across the floor to him.
"Aye, I'm here Lya," he said, only slightly louder as he moved to her bedside.
"Ned, I don't want to die," his sister said, and he couldn't stop his tears at how small she sounded, how weak. "Promise me you'll make them pay. Promise me, Ned."
He thought of Ashara and Jon, who he'd never even seen. He thought of Benjen. He thought of Father and Brandon. He thought of Lyanna. He thought of all the men he'd lost, and those he'd been forced to kill. So many dead so that a few men could control the crown. Men were blaming Rhaegar, but what he did would not have started a war on its own. "I promise, Lya, one day, I promise."