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Sitting with her elbows resting on her desk and her face in her folded hands, Nyra Nox stared down at the words sprawled out before her. It had started out as pure curiosity on her part. A curiosity born from the numerous women who had come to the Red Keep, claiming to have a baseborn son or daughter of the King and wanting them to be tested in hopes that they would achieve the same heights as Gendry. Of the dozens or more women and children she'd seen, only two had proven to have any affinity with the Force. And when put side by side, it was clear that the two children shared a father. The more she thought of it, the more she realized that these two she'd found looked incredibly similar to Gendry and even to the child Barra. That had led her to think about the inheritance of the Force and the few lessons of something called 'genetics' that her husband had given her. How children were literally, and figuratively, half of each parent. However sometimes one parent's half would be stronger than the other, making the children favor one parent or the other. Thinking back on the King's four bastard children that she knew of, she realized that each looked incredibly like one another.
That thought had led her to think about the great houses of Westeros and key features each was said to have. Of the great houses it was the Starks, Targaryens, Baratheons, and the Martells that seemed to have the strongest connection to the Force. Unsurprisingly, all four were from lines that were known practitioners of magic in the past. The Kings of Winter and descendants of Bran the Builder. Descendants of the Dragon lords. And the descendants of the Rhoynar. That realization had led her to realize that each line had specific traits that they shared. And it was with that thought that she called upon the Grand Maester to give her a specific book. The Lineages and Histories of the Great Houses of the Seven Kingdoms. A book that was continuously updated with each new generation that was born to each Great House.
The Grand Maester didn't question her request, simply went back into his library, and quickly retrieved the book. When she questioned how he was able to locate it so quickly, as it wasn't a book that was called upon often, the Grand Maester informed her that the previous Lord Hand, Lord Jon Arryn, had recently requested the book and had had it in his possession until his passing. The revelation was a bit odd. But when she asked why the previous Lord Hand had had the book, the Grand Maester simply shrugged and said that it was not his place to question.
After retreating to the Tower of the Hand, she began looking through the various Houses; primarily the Starks, Baratheons, Martells, and Targaryens. The reading was dull to say the least. Each House and their descendants were consistent in their appearance. The Starks always lighter complexion with darker hair, though that varied slightly, solid builds and stormy eyes. The Martells were their opposites. Lithe with darker complexions, always black hair and dark eyes. The Targaryens were well known for their white-blond hair and fair looks. A trait they made permanent by their continuous inbreeding. And the Baratheons, despite being originally from House Targaryen, were always solid build, dark hair and blue eyed. At least of course until the current crown princes and princess. All of whom were blond of hair and green eyed. Just like their mother.
Reading that gave her pause. Blinking, she reread Joffrey Baratheon's description again, then again, then again. Then after reading it, she pictured him in her mind standing next to Gendry. But the two couldn't be more distant from one another. Next she pictured Myrcella next to Barra. But again, the two looked nothing alike. If anything, Myrcella looked identical to Anna, who she knew to be Lord Tyrion's daughter…a girl who was almost turned into a plaything because of her uncanny resemblance to the Princess.
Desperation started to take hold of her as she began reading through the Baratheon lineage, looking for a single example of a child born within the Baratheon line being born with anything other than the Baratheon looks. But no matter the mother, even a few Lannister women who were noted to have green eyes and blond hair, not a single male child since the founding of House Baratheon had been born without black hair and blue eyes. Until the current royal children. And try as she might, she could not find a single aspect of King Robert in any of the children.
Which led her to one unsettling conclusion. The royal children were not Robert's children. Which meant that the Queen had a lover, perhaps more than one…and this lover had given the Queen her children. Children that she was now passing on as King Robert's trueborn children.
The Queen having an affair itself was a crime that warranted banishment or death, a double standard she despised considering the King's affinity for whores. And if it was just a case of the Queen taking a lover, Nyra wouldn't have cared. But this? This was not just about the Queen having a lover, or lovers. This was about the Queen passing off her children as the children of the King, which they certainly were not.
And the situation just got more complicated from there. Obviously, Tywin Lannister would not stand for the accusation. With Robert's well-known general despise of the Queen's family, it wasn't hard to imagine that he would not hesitate to have Cersei executed and the children either killed or exiled. And while she didn't care about Cersei's fate, or even the potential fate of Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen were both sweet children. And Robert clearly cared for the two younger children… So, perhaps, they would be spared? But regardless, between Robert's unavoidable reaction and Tywin's predictable response, there was only one logical conclusion: war. Perhaps this was the war that Alim foresaw, the one that would take place before the war with the Others. Was this the causing factor?
As she was mulling over the fact that war might be on the horizon, she began thinking of just who would side with the Lannisters and what the line of succession would look like. And technically, with the King having no trueborn children at this moment, that left three, well…four options as legitimate heirs. Primarily, Stannis as the King's brother, then Renly. Then there was also Edric Storm, King Robert's bastard son by a noble woman and the only one of his bastard children who could claim a 'noble' lineage. And the last was…well…Jon Stark. Though she doubted that Jon would even want to step foot in King's Landing, let alone accept his true parentage. So, that just left Stannis. Who was held up in Dragonstone and was refusing all summons to return since the death of the previous Lord Hand.
Thinking of the previous Lord Hand…the Grand Maester had said that Jon Arryn had requested this same tome and had had it in his possession until the day he died. While his death was ruled a fever, a fever that took the lives of dozens in the Red Keep… Was it possible that he learned what Nyra had? And if so…had the Queen learnt of his discovery and had him poisoned, before poisoning a good portion of the Red Keep to cover her crime? She knew that there were several poisons that mimicked a sickness. Had the Queen, or someone else, killed the previous Lord Hand to silence him? And had Stannis known, or at least had the same suspicion as to the royal children? Was that why he was held up at Dragonstone? The Queen was ruthless…and coveted her position as Queen…so as appalling as the act was, she could see the Queen committing, or ordering someone to commit such a crime.
"Answer one question…and uncover a dozen others," Nyra muttered to herself, not sure what, if anything, she should do.
She was suddenly much, much more desperate for her husband to be by her side. Not just for his guidance, but for his power. Cause, and she was willing to admit it, they were not in a good position. They were far from the North with few allies and fewer friends. Her husband, despite being only one man, was an army unto himself. To be sure, Arya and Sansa could help tip the scales slightly. But they were still heavily disadvantaged.
"Lady Nox? Are you in?"
Nyra wanted to curse aloud. Of all the people she would want to see at this moment, the voice that called out to her was perhaps one of the last on her list. Sure, she had sent word for him, but that was before she had fully figured out just what sort of situation they were now in. "Yes, Lord Stark," she said, desperately wracking her brain as she tried to figure out just how to go about the conversation she was sure was about to take place between them. "Come in."
Lord Stark strode into her solar alone, making sure his guards stayed outside to prevent any unwanted ears before shutting the door. "You sent for me? The messenger boy said it was urgent."
Nyra wanted to truly kick herself. It wasn't that she didn't trust Lord Stark. On the contrary, she trusted him with her life. But…he was honorable. To a fault. By his own admission, he had no head for the game nor even a want to play the game. And this situation required a truly daft hand and one truly versed in the game. But…there was no helping it now. She would just have to try and do what she could to mitigate any fallout until Alim managed to return.
Sighing, Nyra nodded and pushed the book before her towards Ned. "Yes, Lord Stark. Since we arrived…I have had only two potential Force sensitive children be brought before me. Both of whom…were named to be bastard children sired by none other than King Robert himself. Both children have the look to back the claim. So…I began thinking of maybe looking for a commonality in the Baratheon lineage, and the lineage of other lines with notable magic. Namely the Starks, Martells, and Targaryens. And…well, I believe that it is easier if you saw this yourself."
Frowning, Ned crossed the room and looked down at the book before him. She could see his eyes going over the words on the page quickly, but clearly he was reading the words but not seeing the treason behind them. "The Baratheon line, much as with the Starks, are well known to carry down certain characteristics for sure," Ned nodded. "I believe Nox referred to such a things as…genetics?"
"Yes," Nyra nodded. "Ned…I want you to picture Robert and Renly in your mind. Then compare them to Gendry and Bara. Then, think of the royal children and compare them against everyone you know who carries the Baratheon name. Then read the book again."
Ned frowned, but clearly did as she requested as he stared off into space. His frown deepened as the time went by before he began almost frantically flipping through the pages detailing the makeup of House Baratheon since its creation. "By the gods," Ned breathed, as the realization of what she suspected dawned on him. "You…You believe that the royal children are…not Robert's children at all?"
"I…cannot say for certain," Nyra responded slowly. "But the chances of the royal children inheriting only traits from the Lannister line and none from the Baratheon line, especially considering how…dominant the Baratheon characteristics are? Well… The chances are highly, highly unlikely to the point of being impossible."
Book still in hand, Ned sat down heavily into the chair across from her as he kept flipping through the pages, reading over the history of House Baratheon. "That isn't everything," Nyra said, knowing her next suspicion would not be received well by Ned. "According to the Grand Maester, this book was last in the possession of Jon Arryn, who had it until the day he died. I also learned the former Hand had recently taken a great interest in all of Robert's bastard children and had in fact written down the details to each. A list which I have been unable to locate since our arrival in King's Landing."
Ned caught on much quicker this time around. "You believe that…that Jon learned of the Queen's actions and…and she had him killed?"
"I believe someone did," Nyra responded. And while she was completely certain that the Queen would be willing and able to kill dozens to keep her secret, she was not ready to point the blame at her for this act. Not yet at least.
She could feel the rage roll of Ned as his eyes flashed yellow. "We need to take the Queen and her children into custody now and send word to Robert of the Queen's act—"
"Ned. Stop." Nyra said, cutting across Ned's anger and bringing him up short. "Right now, we cannot do anything. The number of men sworn to House Stark are far in the minority in the city. Hells, even if you combine all of the men sworn to House Stark, House Baratheon, and even House Tyrell, what few there are here, we will still come up far short when compared against the number of men sworn to House Lannister. And while we could call on the goldcloaks, their allegiance is to the Royal Family first and foremost…and as history has shown their second loyalty is to their won purses. If we act on our suspicion now, we'll just end up with our heads decorating the walls of the Red Keep. We need to wait until Robert returns from his hunting trip before even thinking of taking any action. And even then, I wouldn't want to act on anything we have until we have more men, and my husband, here in the city."
Ned frowned, clearly now just realizing what sort of situation they were in. She loved Ned, not romantically, but she was raised under the banner of the direwolf. Even though she might be 'Lady Nox' now, she would still owe part of her allegiance to House Stark. That being said, she was not blind to his faults. And she knew that if he handled this situation the way he wanted to, it would end in disaster for all of them.
"I will send a raven to Winterfell, requesting Bran be sent down to work on his training with his siblings and perhaps be given a chance to train with the knights of the realm." Ned said slowly, trying to put together a plan. "He will need to be escorted by a…significant guard. And I will also send a request to Robb to send down as many Wolf Rangers as possible to help Lord Dondarrion with the brigand issue that has come up."
It would take days for the raven to arrive, then a full moons turn or more if they went by sea. But still, having more men with them would be a comfort. "A sound idea, Ned."
Scratching his beard, Ned pressed on, "I will also send another missive to Stannis. He has ignored all summons…but perhaps he too has had certain suspicions. And if we reveal that we also have the same suspicions, it might push him to return."
Nyra winced at this thought. "Ned, I do not know if contacting Stannis will do any good," she said slowly, drawing a sharp look from Ned and prompting her to press her point. "All we know is that Lord Arryn was perhaps looking into something that involved the Baratheon line, and then he and a dozen of others died. Before their bodies were even cold, Stannis took those under him and went back to Dragonstone and ignored all summons to return. There is a possibility that…he might be dead already. So, sending a missive with our suspicions might be tipping our hand to whoever is holding Dragonstone. However, if he is still alive, and if he has these same suspicions, that means that he is purposefully ignoring his potential danger and treason against his brother the King. And there is a very important reason as to why he would do that. If the children are not Robert's…that means that Stannis is next in line for the throne. And he could just be biding his time, waiting for Robert to pass before letting all know what he suspects and putting his name forth as the true heir to the Iron Throne."
She was right in thinking that Ned did not like her line of thought. "Stannis is a good and true man. Loyal to his brother. He would not—"
"Then explain to me why he has ignored all summons to return, Ned," she pressed, rising to her feet. Her actions surprised her. She had never fought against Lord Stark like this, and clearly, he was surprised as well by her defiance. "It is well known that Stannis and Robert hold no love for one another. Hells, Robert spited Stannis by taking away Storm's End from him after he failed to capture the last of the Targaryens. Before you say that he was given Dragonstone because he was Robert's heir, you know that is horse shit. We have to navigate this carefully, Ned. Otherwise, it won't just be our heads decorating the walls of the Red Keep, but we'll be alongside all those we love and care for as well."
She could see that her words were starting to hit home with him, especially when she reminded him that it wasn't just their lives that were at stake, but those of his children and those sworn to his household as well.
"Very well," Ned sighed. "We will navigate this per your direction an—"
"Lord Stark!"
Both Nyra and Ned turned to the door as one of the guards began frantically pounding on the door. Nyra wasn't concerned that they could be heard, one because the guards of House Stark would not breathe a word they said. And two, she had used what little Force ability she had to muffle Ned's and her own voice to any outside the room. "What is it?" Ned called out, after receiving a nod from Nyra as she ceased using the Force to muffle their voices.
"The King's hunting retinue has just been rushed into the Red Keep, milord! The King… There's been an accident and he's calling for you immediately."
Ned couldn't remember ever moving as fast as he was as he all but ran through the halls of the Red Keep, servants and guards clearing the way for him as he made his way into the royal wing. Arriving at what he knew to be Robert's chambers, he saw all of the Kingsguard save for Ser Barristan standing vigil outside the doors. Without even pausing to acknowledge them, Ned forced his way past the Kingsguard and threw open the doors to the royal chambers.
Inside the room was…well…it was as Ned expected and feared as he saw Robert laying on his bed, bloodied linens around him and over his ample gut as Grand Maester Jeorge worked tirelessly to try and stem the flow of blood from leaving the King while Ser Barristan stood vigil over his King and a few other servants scurried about the room doing what they could to aid the Maester. But Robert, his old friend, didn't even seem to care about the mortal wound on his person. His attention was all on the two children on his bed, Myrcella and Tommen. His false children… Yet his old friend was looking at them just as he himself looked at Jon, as if they truly were Robert's children. And both of the young ones were crying openly as they stayed by their false father's side.
Across the room, nowhere near the King, was Queen Cersei and Joffrey. The Queen was looking at the scene with a look that he could honestly not describe. Something between sorrow and…disdain. As if she couldn't decide which emotion to be feeling. The false Prince, however, was merely looking at the scene with just a blank look, as if he was just witnessing an everyday occurrence and was ready to leave.
"You both…need to be strong for one another," Robert was saying to the two youngest children, both of whom were wearing black and gold with tears falling freely down their face.
"I – I don't want you to go, father…" Tommen cried, and it seemed only because of Myrcella's hands on his shoulders that kept him in place instead of on top of Robert.
"I know," Robert smiled, a true genuine smile. One Ned had not seen since before their rebellion against the Mad King. "Unfortunately…we don't always get what we want. But you two…you two will carry on. And always remember: we do not fear the storms that come…"
"Because we are the storm, for ours is the fury," both children chorused lowly in response. Finally, the small boy lost his composure, lunging forward to wrap Robert in a hug, which Robert returned slowly, patting the small boy on the back.
As Myrcella joined in the hug, Robert's eyes met his own. "Now…go on, children," Robert said, giving the two a smile, "I…I don't want you two to remember me like this. The rest of you… Besides Jeorge, Barristan, and Ned, get out."
"My love, perhaps we should—" Cersei tried to say, taking a step forward.
"No, we shouldn't," Robert replied, his voice like iron as he glared at Cersei and Joffrey. "All of you. Out. Now."
The servants quickly came forth and ushered Tommen and Myrcella out of the room, though neither child appeared willing to leave. Cersei and Joffrey both remained still, almost as if they were refusing to leave. Cersei made to make another protest. But another hard look from Robert quelled whatever words might've passed her lips. Instead, the Queen merely turned to her son and ushered him out of the room, leaving Ned alone with Robert, Barristan, and Jeorge.
"What in the Seven hells happened?" Ned demanded, glancing towards Ser Barristan.
"An ambush," Ser Barristan replied, shocking Ned. "They came out of nowhere just before dawn. We have no idea who they were, but they attacked us. They managed to wound and kill several, before reaching the king and the prince, wounding the king. None were taken alive for questioning. They died to the man rather than be captured."
Ice formed in Ned's gut. Even though Ser Barristan didn't say it, there was no doubt what this was. An assassination attempt on the King. Stepping forward, Ned glanced at the wound on Robert's gut. He'd seen enough of war and its results to know that the wound on his old friend was fatal. Albeit it would be a slow death. "I will call for Sansa," he said. "With her abilities in healing, she will be able to—"
"No."
Ned blinked, staring at his friend as if he'd grown a second head. "What?"
Robert scoffed, then winced at the pain the action brought him. "Jeorge already brought up bringing your daughter into this…but I already told him no."
Frowning, Ned turned towards Barristan and Jeorge. Both men frowned but nodded, confirming the King's command. "And might I ask why you would rather keep my daughter away when she can easily save your life with but a snap of her fingers?" Well, he doubted that it would be that easy, but he had no doubt in Sansa's ability.
Robert began coughing, blood spittle flying from his mouth before he managed to catch it in his hand. "Because I'm a selfish bastard, Ned," Robert sighed once the fit passed. "This…This is how I should die, with a wound from battle. Not dying of some sickness, wasting away and waiting for the Stranger to claim me. You know, I killed three of the fuckers before one managed to get a lucky hit in? Even then, I caved in the man's fucking head with my bare hands. For that one moment, I was once again the Demon of the Trident. Not some fat ass king who can't even mount or dismount his horse without help. And more…I'll have died protecting Tommen… They were after him, Ned. The one who did this to me was trying to put his dagger in Tommen. And I – for the first time in maybe forever…I acted like a true father to the boy. So, yes, Ned, this is how I want to die. A warrior. A protector. A…A father. Please…I know it's selfish, especially with what comes next… But, please…Ned, do me this kindness and let me die like this."
Ned wanted to rage against his friend, to deny his request. There was still far too much that needed to be done. With what he and Nyra had discovered regarding his false children…could Ned truly afford to let his friend go now? In the end though, Ned merely dropped his head and nodded his agreement to his friend's last request. Things would be more complicated without Robert. But, seeing his friend and how he was now, seeing the hope that he would die in the manner he wanted to, even if he was defending a child born not of his seed… How could Ned take that away from him?
"Gods, Ned… You're a good friend and a better brother… It's a shame I've always been such a shit at both." Robert coughed, more blood coming up from his lips and seeping further into the linens. "All three of you, get some quills and paper. You'll all take down my last words and keep them with you. Just in case that bitch tries to say the words were forged."
The Grand Maester quickly retreated to the King's desk, collecting three pieces of paper and three quills with ink before returning and giving one of each to Ser Barristan and Ned. "Now, sit down and listen, the three of you," Robert breathed, "I don't know if I'll be able to say these again…so listen well. I, Robert Baratheon…titles titles…do hereby declare these to be my final words to be carried out upon my death. Joffrey Baratheon…is to be disinherited in perpetuity from the line of succession to the Iron Throne. His fate will be determined by his grandfather, Lord Tywin Lannister, who shall take wardship of Joffrey immediately following my passing."
Ned's quill, which had been flowing neatly across the page, stopped as he fully heard just what Robert was declaring. Glancing up, he saw that both the Grand Maester and Barristan were wearing equally surprised looks upon their faces. "What?" Robert asked, glancing at all three of them. "You all know that boy is a shit prince and will be an even worse King than I ever was. He cannot be allowed anywhere near that fucking chair, and you all know it. Now, let's keep going. As Myrcella and Tommen are too young, I hereby appoint Lord Eddard Stark, titles titles, to the position of Regent of the Seven Kingdoms for a period of five years, or until the end of the next winter. After which, a Grand Council will be held to determine if either Myrcella, or Tommen, or another candidate is worthy of the Iron Throne."
Now Ned nearly did drop his quill. Robert was…naming him King in all but name for five years? For the love of the gods, he could barely stand being in this city and being Hand of the King for a few months! "Robert, I –"
"Save your breath, Ned," Robert coughed. "Like I said…I'm a shit of a friend. I'm not doing you a favor. I'm doing this cause I know that you are perhaps the one man that can truly lead this Kingdom through a winter… Especially if this winter will be as bad as you and the Sorcerer are claiming it will be. And if you give me some shit about Stannis or Renly…I trust you more than either of them. One of them ran away from his duties, something I never thought I'd live to see. And the other has his head far too buried in the Tyrell's asses to be anything more than a puppet. Now finish up my words and hand them over so I can sign them while I still got some strength left in me."
Frowning, Ned finished writing out the King's decree along with Barristan and Jeorge before the three men handed their copies over to the King to review and sign off on. Going over each page, Robert took his time reading the words written before signing his name to the bottom of each and handing them back to them. "Each of you keep hold of your copies. Now, Barristan, Jeorge…leave. I want to have one last talk with my oldest…and only friend before I die. And it's not a talk for either of your ears."
The two men both took their copies of the King's will before bowing to Robert and quickly leaving the room. Now alone, Ned pulled his chair around closer to the side of the bed so that he was sitting within arm's reach of Robert. "I…I never thought I would see this day come," Ned said, truthfully not even sure where to begin.
Robert, however, just laughed. "You're still shit at starting conversations. You know that, Ned? But then again, you always have been. But…That isn't what I wanted to talk to you about. Not what I want our final talk to be about. Even though I know this is going to hurt, even more than that bastard's dagger that gutted me… We need to talk of…of truths."
Ned blinked. "I've always been truthful with you, Robert."
His friend merely laughed. "Horseshit, Ned. No one in this world is 'always' truthful. You've lied to me…I've lied to you. And now with my guts spilling out and my blood leaving me…I want us to stop with the lies… Just for once and tell the truth." Robert paused, his eyes closing as if bracing himself for pain. "She… She never loved me…did she?"
There was no need for clarification as to just who Robert was referring to. And while Ned immediately wanted to reassure his friend, he knew that Robert already knew. He just wanted to hear the truth. "No, she didn't."
A single tear escaped Roberts' closed eyes. "Did…Did she love him?"
This was truth that Ned had never lied on. "No."
Robert's eyes opened, and instead of seeing a relieved expression in them, Ned saw only sadness. "Because she loved…her, Elia Martell."
This stopped Ned cold. There…There was simply no way that Robert could have known about that! "Where would you—?!"
"No lies, Ned," Robert said quickly, shooting a look at him that stopped his words in his throat. "We're speaking truths here. And before you try and spin some mummer's farce, don't. I saw them—briefly—at Harrenhal. Embracing and kissing in a way that would send any man looking for relief, either by his own hand or with a whore."
Ned hung his head. "Aye. She loved Elia, but she was young and—"
"—and knew that I was a right bastard," Robert sighed. "I know she told you how I acted at Harrenhal, Ned. And…she was right. I was an idiot. I told her she was mine and she should just accept it. Bedding now or later, it didn't matter. That she would be mine. And she kneed me right in the fucking balls. Gods…such fire. I suppose that's what drove her to the Martells, and when I heard the silver-haired fuck absconded with her…I – I had suspicion that it wasn't…fully against her will. But I never gave voice to my suspicion."
Ned was honestly shocked. His friend, he…he suspected that Lyanna's kidnapping by Rhaegar wasn't fully true. And yet… And yet he never said a word. Fighting against the anger, the betrayal, Ned focused on what came next. "Regardless, Robert… The Mad King needed to be removed…after what he did to my father and brother, what he'd been doing to the realm. And even if my sister went willingly with Rhaegar, he had no reason to act as secretively as he did."
"Aye," Robert nodded. "Those dragon fucks needed to die for what they'd done. But…But now… Now I know that the children… They should have been spared. But I…I was just so angry and…and pleased to see that the bitch who'd stolen my wolf from me was dead, that I…I just let it go. I say I see myself killing Rhaegar every night, Ned. But that's…that's not all. I see them…all three of them. Looking up at me and I – Gods…"
Ned, honestly, he didn't know what to say to his friend. He was…There were so many emotions warring for supremacy within him that he honestly couldn't feel anything. He was just numb. "Robert…As we're talking truths…and children…you should know –"
"I already know, Ned," Robert sighed, giving Ned a look. "I'm a shit King and father. But I'm not blind. Especially after having my own bastard children paraded in front of me, looking like every Baratheon who came before them regardless of their mother. I know…Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen aren't mine. Honestly, I don't even care whose they are. Though I do have my suspicions. But even though I'm not their father…I love Myrcella and Tommen like they were my own and I want your word, Ned, that no matter what happens, you will do everything in your power to protect them."
Robert's admission that he already knew about the royal children not being his own shocked Ned deeply. "I – I promise, Robert. I won't let any harm come to those two." Both men had purposefully left out Joffrey, something which both knew and didn't need to be acknowledged.
"Thank you, Ned," Robert sighed, a grateful smile on his face, "I knew that you, of all people, would understand. To love a child you've raised who isn't your own."
"Robert?"
His friend turned his head and gave him a look. "Like I said, Ned. I'm not blind nor an idiot. Jon Stark…He's Lyanna's boy, isn't he?"
He wanted to deny it. It was his first instinct and reaction after so long. He wanted to fall back into the lie he'd been telling for nearly two decades. But he knew now that there was no point. "Aye, he is."
Robert nodded. "You were right, Ned. To hide the boy from me. Hells, to hide him from everyone. Tywin would've stopped at nothing to see him killed. And any still loyal to the dragons would've been trying to put his ass on the throne and use him like a puppet. You did good in raising him. And now Nox has given him power unlike anything ever seen since the Valyrian Empire." Pausing, Robert made sure he was looking Ned in the eye before finishing. "He will be a good King, Ned."
Again, Ned felt like he was being thrown about like a banner in the wind. "King? Robert…What are y—?"
"Just shut up and listen to me, Ned. For once, I know what I'm talking about," Robert said firmly. "You need to act now, even before I breathe my last, Ned. Don't wait for me to grow cold or for a proper time of mourning to pass. Act now. Cause that power-hungry cunt I call my Queen won't wait. She's always said that she should be King, and through her children, she will be in all but name. So, you need to act fast. Use your son's wife to shore up as many trade agreements with Volantis. Then up the timing of Sansa's wedding to Willas. Reinstate Stannis as ruler of Storm's End and betroth your other boy to Shireen. I know that your other girl, Arya, is as likely to gut a man as to let him touch her, but I'm sure you can find someone strong enough in the Vale for her liking. Then with the North tied to the Reach, the Stormlands, the Vale, the Iron Isles through Asha and Theon, Volantis, and Dorne, you put forth Jon's name and reveal his true parentage to the Seven Kingdoms and name him King once your regency has come to an end. Only then, with the entire realm against him, will Tywin Lannister concede defeat. If you don't…then there will be blood, Ned. And given what's coming…blood and death is the last thing the Seven Kingdom's need right now."
Ned, he didn't know what to say. His friend was…was telling him to all but usurp the throne from the Baratheon line…and to do it before his body was even cold. "Robert, this—"
"Gods damn your honor, Ned," Robert growled, which launched his friend into another coughing fit, spilling yet even more blood. "You can rule honorably every now and then, Ned… But you know that sometimes you need to feed your honor to the dogs to do what needs be done. This isn't about doing right by me. Or my shit brothers. Or my…my children. This is about doing what needs to be done for the good of the realm, Ned. This…This is the last thing I ask of you. As your friend…as your brother."
"I…gods damn you, Robert," Ned sighed, lowering his head and running his hand through his hair. "I – I'll see it done."
Robert smiled, a genuine smile. "Good…Thank you, Ned. I wish I could hold on longer…long enough for the Sorcerer to be here and aid in the transition. But…I doubt the Stranger will hold off on taking me for several moons. Give me some milk of the poppy, Ned…and leave me to die…a death I deserve."
Tears stinging at the corners of his eyes, Ned slowly stood up and picked up the small cup that he knew contained milk of the poppy. Giving his friend one last look, Ned handed the cup over before turning his back on his friend and leaving him to die.
Opening the doors to the royal chambers, Ned paid no mind to the Kingsguard standing vigil outside the King's chamber. He did note that Ser Jamie was absent, but truthfully he didn't care. When the time came, Ned fully intended on removing the disgrace from the Kingsguard. Though whether he would return him to the Wall or Casterly Rock, Ned still was unsure. He'd probably have to do the latter, at least to curry some favor with the Lannisters to aid in the transition. "Gods," Ned swore quietly to himself as he marched down the hall. "Here for only little over a moon's turn…and I'm already thinking and acting like a southern noble prick."
He just barely made it out of the royal wing before he was brought up short as Renly quickly stepped out into the hall in front of him, purposefully standing in his path. "So… My brother is dying, Lord Stark?"
"Aye," Ned responded simply, not in the mood for exchanging words at the present time.
"And he is denying any aid… Including from your daughter who could heal his wounds with but a snap of her fingers, right? Of course, he is… That's just how he is." Ned tried to walk past Renly, but the king's brother was relentless and proceeded to follow him. "He dictated a will to you, did he not? Let me guess, he made you Regent until his children are ready to take the throne."
"He did."
Renly chuckled, shaking his head. "She won't let you, you know. Cersei. She'll kill you before you can ever step foot towards the Iron Throne before her golden child has a chance to polish it with his ass."
Ned stopped at turned towards Renly. "I have the King's will–"
"A flimsy piece of paper that she will discard the moment my brother passes," Renly cut in. "And your men are out in the field dealing with whoever is that is slaughtering the faithful in the Crownlands. You have no real support here in King's Landing…but you can have mine."
Ned frowned as he looked, truly looked, at the man. "And what do you bring? The Baratheon men at arms here number my own and are less than half the number of Lannister men."
Renly smirked. "But I can also bring the Tyrell men, including Ser Loras, to our side. And all that you would need to do is accept me as King of the Seven Kingdoms. Hells, I'll even let you keep your position as Hand of the King if you wish, or you can head back to the North, which I know you prefer. Support me now, and whatever post you wish will be yours."
Ned was taken aback by the brazen request. "You – You would name yourself King? Before the royal children? Before Stannis?"
Renly's face twitched. "Cersei's spawn do not deserve to sit anywhere near the throne. Joffrey is a violent little shit. Myrcella is a woman and Tommen is far too weak. And Stannis, he may be a good soldier, but I think my brother has proven that good soldiers don't make good kings. And more importantly, none of them have the love of the people like I do. Discard the will, join me, and I will have a hundred swords in the castle tonight. Combined with your own men, we will easily take the Red Keep and put Cersei and her spawn into custody. From there, it is just a simple matter of my coronation and then you can do as you wish with my blessing."
Ned felt his rage building, the wolf within snarling at such a ridiculous command and plan. Even if Ned were to discard his dying friend's, his King will, he would not support Renly for the throne. Such an act not only went against every established law of succession, but it would also guarantee war throughout the Seven Kingdoms. "I will not dishonor Robert's final words. Nor disrupt the peace. I will carry out my friend's, my King's, last request to the letter, Lord Renly."
The young man fumed before him, his face going red. Yet Ned did not budge. He was a father of five, he'd seen children's tantrums before. And as he watched Renly sputter and fume before turning around and marching quickly away, Ned realized that that was exactly what Renly was. A child playing at being a man. Though Ned would concede that Renly wasn't entirely wrong. To say that the Queen would not be pleased with Robert's final will would be an understatement. He had to be ready for whatever move she might make. And the first step would be to secure his children's safety.
"Damn you Robert," he growled quietly to himself as he moved towards the tower of the hand.