Return Of The Prince

With the Iron Isles subjugated under Edric's overwhelming royal forces, the Realm had known peace again. The swift invasion which had swept up the Iron Isles would forever serve as a reminder to those who have questionable loyalties to the future King. Though a boy, Edric's fury struck greater fear in lesser men than all else. All who had come to witness it first-hand would never dare to forget it.

Under the Seastone Chair, Prince Edric would officially knight Arthur of the House Tudbury.

…

After the battle had come to a close, Edric went to rest and left his body in the care of his trusted maester. Meanwhile, he left Lord Stannis in charge of settling all other matters. 

"You fought with great courage, Your Grace." Ser Barristan stated, standing by his bedside.

"I have these wounds as proof." Edric managed a smile, dropping his head onto his pillow. "Even though the wars of arms have ended, the true war has hardly begun. In that war… I'd like the people I trust most to stand by my side."

"Which war would that be?"

"The war of words and shadows… politics." Edric shook his head. "In all these years serving Kings, you should've seen it first-hand. I am but a boy in their eyes… and they will seek to take advantage of that."

"You have many wise and powerful lords by your side." Ser Barristan countered. "Many more than would seek to harm you and your rule."

"Yet, even if they do support me, they do not support each other. The contention for the Hand of the King and lord regent…" Edric sighed. "The deaths of my father and Lord Eddard left a hole of power that many will seek to fill for their own ambition."

"Then you should be wise and choose the right men." 

"... The right men are not always the ones that are accepted," Edric remarked, narrowing his eyes. "If no one approves, then what right do they have to command anyone? Regardless… I wish to expand the ranks of the Kingsguard. There's only three as of now."

"I am well aware." Ser Barristan sighed. "To think that more than half would defect to the Lannisters…"

"My father was careless and allowed those gold hairs to dictate far too much." Edric smiled slightly, tilting his head. "My Kingsguard will be different… people whose loyalty is unquestionably towards me over all else. I've already decided on the next person to don the white cloak…"

"Oh?"

…

When Edric was well enough to move, he came to visit one of his new prisoners. A lean and long-legged woman with black hair cut short and eyes just as dark. Her nose was quite big and sharp - almost like a hawk's. She did not look like a lady at court, certainly. She was the fallen kraken's daughter, after all.

Her eyes stared up at Edric as he approached alongside Dorian and Arthur, who held a torch to light up the dark cells.

"What do you want?"

"I simply wish to extend my greetings, Asha Greyjoy." Edric smiled slightly. "I hope my arrows didn't leave any long-lasting wounds…"

"They were the bites of a flee…" Asha scoffed.

"As intended." Edric nodded. "If I wanted you dead…-"

"I'd be dead already, is that it?" Asha questioned.

"Quite so."

"You're wasting your breath, bastard prince…" Asha chuckled, leaning back against the wall as her chains rang with a metallic noise. "What do you hope to accomplish? Make me another one of your pawns? I'd sooner die with my axe in my hand."

"You'd sooner die in this cell."

"So be it… as long as you leave my body to the sea."

"I would be more inclined to leave it in the sands of Dorne."

"Whatever your wish is." Asha shook her head. Her eyes were not at all dead. "The Drowned God will find me."

"The Ironborn are rightfully famed for their stubborn nature." Edric shook his head. "Instead of thinking with your heart, why don't you think a little more with your head? If you have anything in that skull of yours, that is."

"I will not kneel to the boy who killed my father."

Asha tried to spit in his face but didn't quite reach him.

"So you will allow his legacy to die out?" Edric questioned, raising an eyebrow. "Everything he, his father before him and their fathers came to accomplish and build… you would toss it all into the flame?"

"You would." Asha countered. "Isn't your goal the death of the Old Ways?"

"That does not mean the death of House Greyjoy." Edric clutched the glove covering his left hand, stretching it slightly. "I would not lose sleep at night either way. However… I would prefer a more stable Realm, and you could help me work towards that. You don't have to do it for me. Do it for your people."

"Did you forget what I said already?" Asha looked him dead in the eye. "I wil never kneel to you."

"One day, you will." 

Edric's unwavering confidence made Asha question her own stance. He had spoken those words with such certainty as if it were a prophecy written in the stars.

'That is… if you're as smart as I believe you are.'

…

As Asha denied Edric's offer to serve him, the wiser Rodrik Harlaw had been appointed as Lord Paramount of the Iron Isles. He was granted the lands and titles that Balon Greyjoy once held, becoming the Lord of Pyke. The problem was that he had no direct heirs and did not intend to wed again… despite his new position.

Even if he did, he was quite old, which meant that he was only a temporary solution. That is why Edric intended to string Asha along. 

After making preparations and settling down the unrest that plagued the region, the royal army was ready to set off from the Iron Isles. Edric was making his way to his flagship when he was intercepted by Theon Greyjoy. Robb Stark and his entourage followed behind him.

"Why is Rodrik the Lord of Pyke?" Theon questioned, raising an eyebrow as he stood in front of Edric. "It should have been me! It is my birthright."

Edric looked directly at him, his blue eyes staring into Theon Greyjoy's very soul. It unsettled the youthful man greatly despite being eight years older. He was shorter, weaker and looked timid compared to the young prince who towered over him.

Suddenly… he began to regret his choice of words. 

"Watch your tone, boy." Dorian grinned slightly. "Or you might lose that impudent tongue of yours."

"... I-"

"What a foolish question." Edric stepped forward, looking down on Theon. "What gives you the idea that you are fit to lead the Ironborn… your bloodline? Do you have any experience with ruling? Does anyone here acknowledge you? Go on, bark orders at your 'people'. Let us see how they will follow you."

"I… could prove myself worthy." Theon lowered his head. "Your Grace." 

"You're embarrassing yourself." Robb grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back. 

"Prove yourself?" Edric questioned, contemplating it for a moment. "Of course, you may try and stay in your homeland. Lord Rodrik might need a steward."

"A steward?" Theon raised an eyebrow.

"It is up to you." Edric walked past him. "I've given you the freedom to choose your destiny as you are a man-grown and the Lord you have been ward to is no longer with us."

"... I will stay, then." Theon nodded, bowing. "I thank you for the opportunity, Your Grace."

"So be it."

'I wonder how that will turn out…'

Edric suspected that it wouldn't turn out too well initially, for obvious reasons… but the future could bear some fruit. Even if it didn't, he still had Asha.

'Maybe they will send him back.'

Edric smiled slightly.

~

With the flames of war having been extinguished at last, the royal army retreated from the Iron Isles and returned to the mainland where most of the banners split apart. Most of the levies who had been raised for the war effort were disbanded and sent home, led by their knights and sergeants. In most cases, the lords of the Realm rode with Prince Edric to accompany him and witness the crowning of a new King.

"Robb Stark… I don't believe we've spoken in private before." Edric went back a bit, joining the new Lord Paramount and Warden of the North. "It has all been war councils so far."

"What would you wish to talk about, my prince?"

"Spare me the formalities, Robb." Edric smiled slightly. "Our fathers were the best of friends, brothers in arms. We should do our best to honour their memory."

"They would've liked that, aye." Robb nodded, managing a smile. "His Grace would have been proud to know that his son brought peace to the Realm."

"Your father would be proud, too." Edric nodded, glancing at him. "You're a good man just like Lord Eddard was. Don't… blame yourself for his death."

Robb's expression suddenly changed to one of denial as his eyes widened.

"No… I-"

"I know you do… I would too if I were you." Edric sighed, looking up at the sky. "I sometimes wonder how things could've gone differently if I accompanied my father's side and did all I could to protect him. Maybe he'd be alive, maybe we would've smashed through their formation and maybe… Lord Eddard would be alive too."

"The Realm… would surely be a better place…" Edric's expression was one of sorrow and regret. "So, if anyone is to hold the blame…"

"It wouldn't be you." Robb Stark interrupted, looking at him. "You're just… a boy. You can't hold the blame for the death of a King and my father."

"... You're just a boy, too." Edric managed a smile, turning to look at him. "None of us are at fault, by that logic. The tragedies that happened… were ultimately out of our control."

"..." Robb Stark sighed. "I could've…"

"It's over, Robb Stark. What happened during this war cannot be changed. We can't walk our entire lives carrying this regret… if we do, we'll lose sight of what is in front of us." Edric pat his shoulder. "We have to move forward and carry on our father's legacies. That's what they would've wanted."

"... You're right." Robb Stark nodded, taking a deep breath. "You are right, my prince."

"I'd hate to be wrong." Edric jested, chuckling. "We will be brothers one day, should Arya marry me…"

"Should she marry you?" Robb raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean by that? Will you not be King and hold all the power?"

"I want to honour our father's wishes… but I won't force Arya to marry me. If she wishes to break off the arrangement, I will do it." Edric smiled, shaking his head. "She never wanted to be a lady, I know that much."

"You're a good lad." Robb Stark countered. "I believe that she would get around to you."

"You think so?" Edric chuckled. "She is a wild girl… I find it hard to imagine her playing the role of a Queen."

"Aye… I do too." Robb smiled. "Though, behind the wildness, she is a clever girl. Always has been."

"... Yeah." Edric nodded. "Whatever makes her happy. If she wants to return with you to Winterfell, who am I to object? I will not keep her by my side against her will."

"... Whatever makes her happy." Robb nodded. "If she walks away… I believe Sansa would be glad to take her place. All she had ever wanted was to be Queen. I still remember how she glowed when she found out that she would marry Robert's heir… whatever happened to Joffrey?"

"He's enjoying the dungeon cells of the Red Keep."

"A fitting place for that cunt." Robb smiled.

"Aye." Edric laughed. "That much is true."

'Twisting the truth… lying so easily… I've become someone I'd frown upon before.'

~

Along the way to the capital, Edric would often speak with Robb Stark and develop a friendship with the lord. They had similar interests, mostly revolving around warfare. Robb Stark would share his more unorthodox strategies while Edric would show him his deep bag of tricks - mainly revolving around his absurd skill with the bow.

Robb Stark's admiration for the future King only grew, coming to acknowledge him as one of a kind. 

Days would pass by…

After riding for over a moon, the banners of the Realm flew under the gates of King's Landing. The many lords swept up the streets, following their crown prince to the Red Keep. The gate was opened and the Iron Throne lied waiting for its next host… as it always did when a King or his Hand fell.

In his mind, he couldn't trust anyone else with it…

It had to be him.

Edric observed the colossal throne of swords with a look of intent, his eyes flashing a violet purple.

The very thing he'd run from with all his might before…

He sought to grasp and dominate.

'The Iron Throne… my throne.'