Troubles of a Father

Eddard perspective:

Men called out to the new Hand of the King as he crossed the castle yard under the darkening sky and Ned feigned ignorance as he rushed past them. Still he was moving far too slow for his liking. He wanted to run, but his new position forced him to keep up an appearance of dignity. So, he maintained his steady pace, damning it within his heart, thoughts heavy with not a word leaving his mouth.

Ned felt as if everything had gone to shit since the raven arrived at Winterfell. Starting with the death of his mentor and friend Jon Arryn and continuing when he was appointed the King's Hand.

He wished he didn't have to leave. How he longed to be back home with Catelyn and his ailing son, but fate was cruel. Despite what his wife said and how she urged him to go, he knew despite herself she did not want him to. He knew she needed him, and his not being there would certainly wear heavy on her heart. It had been a long time since he had felt like this. Helpless. He didn't belong here he thought, but as his wife had told him before he left, "A man cannot always be where he belongs."

Then there was the matter with his son, Jon. Was he going where he belonged? Or was he being sent somewhere he didn't. The image of his son taking up the black had replayed in his head over and over again since they had separated and there had many a time been thoughts of turning back around to stop him. However, it was impossible to change the past and questioning his decisions would get him nowhere. Jon's destiny was in his own hands now, and Ned could only wish him happiness from afar.

There were few pleasures on the journey south and for most of it Ned had kept to himself, consumed by his thoughts and worries, whilst having to maintain a look of confidence and indifference befitting of his status.

Fortunately, it couldn't be said there were no joys to been seen on his travels. Ned got to watch as his other son, Derren, flourished. Derren seemed to be thriving away from the judgment of his bastard title. Everyday he could be seen with Rain, talking and laughing cheerily with other squires and soldiers. He was becoming a man Ned thought, and the sight of it was one of the only things able to bring a smile to his face as of late.

Recently, Robert had taken him out riding and while there had been moments of rekindling for the friendship it had ultimately just reminded Ned of the King's madness. When they had reached a safe enough distance away from the camp for the Robert, the man sat him down to speak of new information from Varys, the Master of Whisperers.

The news came from a Jorah Mormont, 'A slaver turned spy!' Ned thought, and it contained a report on how a young Daenerys Targaryen had wed some horse lord. It brought out the king's madness. He hated the Targaryen's with every fibre of his being. "I will kill every last Targaryen I get my hands on, until they are as dead as their dragons, and then I will piss on their graves!" were his words and Ned believed them. 'Promise me Ned' he remembered. He knew Robert would never be able to quench his thirst for revenge on the Targaryen's.

Then there was today. Earlier Sansa had come running to him, close to tears. There had been an incident with the Robert's son, Joffrey and Arya which resulted in the prince being injured by his daughter's direwolf. As soon as Ned heard what happened he had charged his way to Arya's tent, only to find that she had already been brought before the King.

Ned was furious. She should have been taken to him first. Robert should know better he thought. However, he understood that he could only push his grimace with the King behind him for now and make his way to his daughter.

She had been taken to the audience chamber of the castle of Darry. Darry was only half a day's travel south from the Trident on horseback and belonged to Ser Raymun Darry. They were not welcome visitors. Ser Raymun lived under the King's peace, but his family had fought under Rhaegar's dragon banners at the Trident, and his three older brothers died there. Obvious to say neither him or Robert had forgotten.

When Ned arrived at the chamber he made his way in, ignoring the guards and pushing the doors open with more force than was needed. What welcomed him were the stares of men and women all crowded together. He looked around for Arya, with this large a crowd here was little chance of him and Robert settling the issue quietly.

Robert was slouched on Darry's high seat, a touch of guilt in his eyes looking at Ned. Arya on the other hand was in the middle of the room, alone save for Jory Cassel, the captain of his houseguard.

"Arya!" Ned called, and the girl turned speedily running to his embrace. Ned went to one knee, taking her into his arms.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"I know," he said. She felt so tiny in his arms, nothing but a scrawny little girl. It was hard to see how she had caused so much trouble. "Are you hurt?"

"No." Her face was dirty, and her tears left pink tracks down her cheeks. "A bit hungry, that's all."

"We'll feed you soon enough," Ned promised. He rose to face the king. "What is the meaning of this?" His eyes swept the room, searching for friendly faces. But for his own men, they were few enough. Ser Raymun Darry guarded his look well. Lord Renly wore a half smile that might mean anything, and old Ser Barristan was grave; the rest were Lannister men, and hostile. Their only good fortune was that both Jaime Lannister and Sandor Clegane were missing, leading searches north of the Trident. "Why was I not told that my daughter had been found?" Ned demanded, his voice ringing. "Why was she not brought to me at once?"

He spoke to Robert, but it was Cersei Lannister who answered. "How dare you speak to your king in that manner!"

At that, the king stirred. "Quiet, woman," he snapped. He straightened in his seat. "I am sorry, Ned. I never meant to frighten the girl. It seemed best to bring her here and get the business done with quickly."

"And what business is that?" Ned put ice in his voice.

The queen stepped forward. "You know full well, Stark. This girl of yours attacked my son. Her and her butcher's boy. That animal of hers tried to tear his arm off."

"That's not true," Arya said loudly. "She just bit him a little. He was hurting Mycah."

"Joff told us what happened," the queen said. "You and the butcher boy beat him with clubs while you set your wolf on him."

"That's not how it was," Arya said, close to tears again. Ned put a hand on her shoulder.

"Yes it is!" Prince Joffrey insisted. "They all attacked me, and she threw Lion's Tooth in the river!" Ned noticed that he did not so much as glance at Arya as he spoke.

"Liar!" Arya yelled.

"Shut up!" the prince yelled back.

"Enough!" the king roared, rising from his seat, his voice thick with irritation. Silence fell. He glowered at Arya through his thick beard. "Now, child, you will tell me what happened. Tell it all, and tell it true. It is a great crime to lie to a king." Then he looked over at his son. "When she is done, you will have your turn. Until then, hold your tongue."

As Arya began her story which Ned found to be similar to the story Sansa had told him prior, save for his daughter's attempts at preserving the Prince's image. Ned heard the door open behind him and he glanced back and saw Vayon Poole, his steward, enter with Sansa. They stood quietly at the back of the hall as Arya spoke. When she got to the part where she threw Joffrey's sword into the middle of the Trident, Renly Baratheon began to laugh. The king bristled. "Ser Barristan, escort my brother from the hall before he chokes."

Lord Renly stifled his laughter. "My brother is too kind. I can find the door myself." He bowed to Joffrey. "Perchance later you'll tell me how a nine-year-old girl the size of a wet rat managed to disarm you with a broom handle and throw your sword in the river." As the door swung shut behind him, Ned heard him say, "Lion's Tooth," and guffaw once more.

Prince Joffrey was pale as he stepped forward, appearing feeble and weak. Clearly acted up the part.

"Stop whimpering!" Robert commanded him, "Behave with dignity, like the man you are." Hearing his father, the blond obliged touch yet still not completely dropping his hurt countenance and began to tell his very different version of events.

When his son was done talking, the king rose heavily from his seat, looking like a man who wanted to be anywhere but here. "What in all the seven hells am I supposed to make of this? He says one thing, she says another."

"They were not the only one's present," Ned said. "Sansa come here. Tell us what happened." His eldest daughter stepped up hesitantly as she was beckoned. She was dressed in blue velvets trimmed with white, a silver chain around her neck. Her thick auburn hair had been brushed until it shone. She blinked at her sister, then at the young prince. "I don't know," she said tearfully, looking as though she wanted to bolt. "I don't remember. Everything happened so fast, I didn't see . . . "

"You rotten!" Arya shrieked. She flew at her sister like an arrow, knocking Sansa down to the ground, pummelling her. "Liar, liar, liar, liar."

"Arya, stop it!" Ned shouted. Jory pulled her off her sister, kicking. Sansa was pale and shaking as Ned lifted her back to her feet. "Are you hurt?" he asked, but she was staring at Arya, and she did not seem to hear.

"The girl is as wild as that filthy animal of hers," Cersei Lannister said. "Robert, I want her punished."

"Seven hells," Robert swore. "Cersei, look at her. She's a child. What would you have me do, whip her through the streets? Damn it, children fight. It's over. No lasting harm was done."

The queen was furious. "Joff will carry those scars for the rest of his life."

Robert Baratheon looked at his eldest son. "So he will. Perhaps they will teach him a lesson. Ned, see that your daughter is disciplined. I will do the same with my son."

"Gladly, Your Grace," Ned said with vast relief.

Robert started to walk away, but the queen was not done. "And what of the direwolf?" she called after him. "What of the beast that savaged your son?"

The king stopped, turned back and frowned. "I'd forgotten about the damned wolf." He looked at Ned and sighed, "Then be done with it."

Jory, noticing Arya's frame tense up at the mention of Nymeria spoke up quickly, "There has been sighting of the direwolf since morning, Your Grace." The Queen frowned.

"No? So be it then," said Robert getting up, clearly having no interest in continuing the conversation anymore.

Cersei was not ready to drop this on the other hand and spoke up with her voice raised, "A hundred golden dragons to the man who brings me it's skin!"

Robert grimaced, "A costly pelt. I want no part of this, woman. You can pay for your damn fur with Lannister gold."

His wife appeared determined to fight him at every turn and replied to him in a cold tone, "I had not thought you a petty man. The king I had once married would have given me that wolf's pelt by the end of the night!"

"A fine trick without a wolf," he scoffed back at her.

"There is more than one wolf here."

Hearing her words, Ned cursed inwardly. He had hoped that the matter had finally ended and peacefully at that. He stared worriedly at his old friend whose face was wrapped in pondering, unable to crush the small hope he had remaining for the wolves.

Robert seemingly coming to a decision turned to one of his men, "Have it be done Ser Illyn."

"Ro-... Your Grace, surely there can be another way to solve this," he pleaded.

"I'm sorry Ned but they would have turned on your own children soon like this one did my son. I'm sorry but the must happen," he says to his queen's delight.

"Not Lady!" says Sansa, crying out before her father can respond, "Please not Lady! She's good. She'll never hurt anyone!" Robert simply shakes his head at her, with a look of pity. Seeing he was not changing his mind, she looked down for a moment before once again looking up having shed any hesitation she had and continued, "Please Your Grace, if a wolf must be killed, then have it be Derren's."

Cersei looked at her with a touch of interest, seeming a little impressed while Ned opened his mouth, clearly aghast. A moment passed silently before Jory once again spoke up. "I'm sorry, Your Grace, Sansa, but I'm afraid there has been no sign of Lady either and-"

"Then it will be your bastard's Ned," Robert interrupted.

Sansa quietens in shock, casting her head down sadly and Ned's brows raised with confusion written all over his face.

Robert wasn't finished speaking however, "Where can it be found?"

Knowing nothing can be done Ned lets out a dispirited sigh, "Rain never leaves my son's side," he said, "The direwolf will be wherever he is."

"Have your bastard brought before me then. The least I can do is tell him of what must be done myself."

"It will be done Your Grace," Ned almost spits out before simply nodding to his houseguard, who then turned and ran off. He had no mood to talk now and so stayed silent which resulted in an awkward silence surrounding the chamber as he sent both Arya and Sansa back to their tents. Seeing this, Robert decides to send most of everyone else out as well, saying that they would have to wait for quite an extended amount of time if they stayed, to which Ned was secretly grateful.

It was true though that they had expected to be waiting for a while as it would not be easy to find one man out of a thousand. However, not five minutes later Jory returned with Derren behind him. The houseguard looked far more nervous than when he had left, something which did not go unnoticed.

His son on the other hand looked quite confused although he had made an effort to try and hide it. He wore a grey cloak over his black leather tunic and his dark hair fell slightly over his eyes attempting and failing to hide his handsome countenance. His eyes were focused ahead with light from torches on the wall reflecting off them, making their colour apparent. A light grey. Everyone must have thought he had received them from Ned, but the man himself knew better.

After Derren stopped in the middle of the room, he bowed, "Your Grace."

Robert was silent for a moment, taking the boys visage in properly for the first time. For some reason he couldn't explain, he couldn't help but view the boy warmly. It was a similar feeling he got when he looked at Arya… however he pushed these thoughts to the back of his mind. "Do you know why you have been summoned boy?"

"Jory hadn't enough time to tell me, Your Grace," Derren said respectfully, starting to stand back up.

"Well what would you know of the day's events, hmm?" Robert inquired, leaning forward on his seat. "Surely you must have heard word of this?"

Ned saw the young man look up at his king, "In truth not much, Your Grace. Just rumours from around the camp, the validity of which I can't help but question."

"Oh?" Robert questioned, with interest, his lips curling, "Tell me about some of these rumours. And drop the whole 'Your Grace' for the time being. Makes talking a bore."

Derren nodded, "Well there was one man who said that the Prince had been mauled by a wild bear," he stopped for a moment, "and was on his deathbed."

"Utter crap!" Robert scoffed, "The men clearly have too much free time on their hands if this is the kind of ridiculous talk the get up to. Let me tell you the truth of the matter from what I have heard."

Ned watched and listened as Robert spoke to his son about the situation. The King had mentioned the tales from both his own son and Arya, be it briefly, and finally arrived at the reason his Derren has been brought here.

"You can see the trouble of the ordeal I hope," was how Robert ended his speech tiredly, looking away from the downcast boy's expression. Ned could see that his friend truly had no desire to do this but as he had already stated he would, he could no longer stop it.

"I do understand, Your Grace," Derren said however Ned could tell there was something else he hadn't told them yet, so he looked to Jory to try and confirm his suspicions. The man had the same nervous look as when he had entered minutes ago and after recognising Ned's stare, walked closer to his lord.

"What wrong?" Ned asks in a whisper. Jory leaned forward and started informing him of the situation he had come across when he found Derren. After hearing what Jory had to say, Ned gasped although no one other than his houseguard heard him. He had to fight back a laugh, the situation felt quite ridiculous.

"I told you to stop it with that." Robert sighed, "You do remind me of your father bastard. Of when he were younger, always so serious. He looked pained as he reminisced. "I have declared to leave your sister's punishment in the hands of your father. Whatever he decides to do. I won't complain." His gaze returned to Derren, "However, the direwolf must be done away with. Do you understand?"

Derren's face twitched on his right side, clear dislike for the concept before he responded, "I do Your Grace, however, I myself haven't seen Rain for over an hour now and I'm not quite sure where he has run off to."

Robert's eye's widened and his gape deepened as he sat unmoving in his high seat.

"HAHAHAHAH-Hackk," he laughed, ending it with a cough in a non-king like fashion. His face reddened, and Ned was sure he spotted spittle fly out of his throat as he laughed even more. Fortunately for Ned and Derren, the King had been humoured by the situation instead of angered.

Cersei on the other was far from amused as her face soured, unable to feel the humour.

"Well Ned." Robert grunted after reigning himself in, "It seems there is nothing else to be done tonight."

"Aye, Your Grace," Ned flashed with a genuine smile.

"Wait just a moment!" the Queen all but shrieked, "How do we know the bastard is not just a lying fool!" Behind her Joffrey could be seen nodding his head, a vein popping up on his forehead in anger of not getting what he wanted.

Ned furrowed his eyebrows at her insult to his son. Questioning his son's honour was the same as questioning his own in his eyes. Such disrespect would not be forgotten and not to mention he already had little good will towards the Queen.

Robert was fed up with her antics but didn't go against her, "Do you have any proof of your claims boy?" he asked to which Jory chimed in as quickly as he always did,

"Your Grace when I had found Derren, it did indeed seem as though he were searching for the direwolf. He had been shouting out for it which was why I was able to find him as quickly as I did."

"That must have been why you looked as if there had been piss in your mouth Cassel!" Robert laughed as Jory's face blushed, feeling slightly shamed.

"When did Rain leave you Derren?" Ned asked his son curiously, getting his son's attention.

"Earlier, when I was walking with him, there were howls from the forests to the north. There were two howls, one after the other and when Rain heard them he ran off in their direction." Derren unable to hide his emotions, near spat out. His fists were clenched, and his jaw jutted forward slightly. He didn't look happy and when Ned looked at the eyes much like his own, he saw that they were holding back tears. His son looked betrayed and hurt by Rain's having run off and it was clear for everyone here to see.

Seeing his son's state, Robert saw fit to end the night there, "Well, only time will tell if the boy is lying," he started, "if the beast does not come back then we can be sure there were no lies here on his behalf. However, Derren, if it does come back. You should be prepared to face punishment befit of lying to your King." Robert warned, mainly to appease Cersei, using his name for the first time. "It has been too long a day. Everyone may leave now."

His son bowed his head and Ned replied, "I shall see you tomorrow then, Your Grace." Then turning and signalling for Derren and his men to follow him out.

Once outside, Ned breathed a long breath of fresh air, relishing in its coolness. Happy to be out of that stuffy audience chamber, he looked to his right and he watched as Derren did the same.

"Derren," he called.

Derren turned to him allowing Ned to see look at his face. "Yes father?"

Ned was surprised to see that there were no traces of tears within his eyes anymore, they seemed serene, not at all like they had been just moments ago. Ned threw the thoughts to the back of his mind, chocking it up to him not seeing clearly because of the dark. "I'm sorry to hear that Rain is gone, but you should make sure to sleep soon. We'll most likely be leaving early in the morning, as to please Ser Raymun," he said smiling kindly.

Derren smiled back at his father, "I'll try father, although you are the one who should be worried about getting enough sleep," he smirked, "I bet Arya and Sansa are arguing in your tent as they wait for you to arrive."

Ned felt his face drop as he could vision the likely scenario, and Derren chuckled at him. He found himself smiling despite the oncoming stress his daughters would soon bring him. "Goodnight Derren," he said.

"See you tomorrow father."

Ned watched as his son turned and walked off into the distance, able to see him due to the bright moonlight shining down.