Chapter 7
In the Red Keep's grand Throne Hall, morning light struggled to filter through the tall windows, casting long, eerie shadows across tapestries that told stories of ancient wars. King Robert, imposing as a standing bear, stopped hugging Ned. He was about to speak when he was interrupted. "Robert..." Ned began, voice thick with caution, but before he could continue, Robert interrupted him with shrill glee. "Ned, you don't know how happy I am to see you here. Finally, I can talk to someone who isn't a snake poisoned by court games."
Ned, struggling to maintain his composure under the watchful eyes of the knights and nobles watching from afar, tried again. "Robert, I..." But the king, with his characteristic impetuosity, cut him off again. "How long do you plan to stay, Ned? I hope it's a long stay this time." His voice was like distant thunder, resounding against the stone walls.
Ned, feeling the gravity of the moment, looked at the dancing flames in the hall's fireplace, trying to find the right words. "Robert, I have to say..."
But he was interrupted by the impatience of the king, who, with a look that quickly turned dark, asked, "And Lyanna, Ned, have you found her?"
Ned lost his temper, and in a louder voice than he intended, revealed, "Robert! Lyanna is dead!" His statement reverberated in the hall, causing even the furthest guards to turn around.
The air seemed to freeze around them, and Robert backed away, his words like whispers of cold wind. "That can't be true... She can't be dead... My wolf..."
In the seconds that followed, Robert seemed like a ship adrift in a storm, before being engulfed by rage. His eyes, which once shone with joy, now burned like burning coals. "Damn dragons, I'm going to wipe them all out!" He turned abruptly to a servant cowering near a column and roared, "Gather the small council. I want to sail to Dragonstone as quickly as possible!" His voice echoed through the hall, causing even the ravens on the battlements to stir.
The servant, pale as milk and visibly shaken by the king's fury, ran away, stumbling in his haste. Ned, observing the storm of emotions wracking Robert, extended a hand in a gesture of calm. "Robert, calm down."
But Robert was beyond the reach of reason, his voice hoarse with anger. "How can I calm down, Ned! They killed MY wolf!" With a sudden gesture, he broke away from Ned's touch and hurried out of the room, his footsteps resounding like distant thunder.
Ned stood there, lost in the commotion, his heavy breathing mixing with the sound of the crackling fire in the fireplace. It was then that Ashara spoke, her soft voice cutting through the silence. "You should have left this until last. Now it will be a while before we can talk about Alaric and ask for the reward from the North."
Ned, with a heavy sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the world, admitted, "I know, I just... When he mentioned Lyanna, I couldn't help myself. I'm sorry." His expression was a reflection of the pain and responsibility he felt.
I tried to cheer my uncle up with some comforting words, "Don't worry, Uncle Ned. You have every right to be irritated." My voice was young but full of sincerity.
He offered me a weak, almost imperceptible smile and came over to me, ruffling my hair with affectionate familiarity. I tried to push his hand away, but my youthful strength was still insufficient. Ned, however, seemed slightly impressed by my strength.
"Maybe we can walk around town and look for a store that sells cold-weather clothing," Ned suggested, his voice now lighter, trying to change the gloomy atmosphere that had settled in. "I don't want you to get sick on the trip to White harbor."
Ashara nodded, a faint smile touching her lips. "That's a good idea. Neither Alaric nor I have ever been in cold weather, although I don't remember Alaric ever being sick before," she mused, her face taking on a contemplative expression as if distant memories flashed through her mind.
Leaving the Red Keep, we ventured into the city, where the smell of fresh fish, hot bread, and manure mixed in an insult to the senses. "It'll be fun," I said, trying to keep my spirits up, "but that smell will just ruin my mood."
Ned laughed, a sound that seemed to defy the gloomy morning. He ruffled my hair again, his eyes briefly shining with a mischievous light. "Can't you stop doing that?" I protested, feigning displeasure.
"No, I can't," he replied, his voice carrying a joking tone, and we set out in search of a quality store. The streets were full of traders and passersby, each one absorbed in their tasks, forming a lively and colorful carpet that stretched out before us.
After two hours of walking Through the winding streets, we found a suitable establishment, with a modest but inviting facade. "Welcome customers. How can I help you?" asked the attendant, a middle-aged woman with a gentle smile.
"We'd like thick woolen clothes for them," Ned said, pointing to me and Ashara. His voice was firm, but his eyes continued to reveal the worry that haunted him.
She quickly measured us with an experienced eye and brought us two thick gray woolen tunics. They were heavy in the hands but promised warmth against the biting cold of the North. "I like it, let's take it", Ashara decided after trying them on, the fabric falling elegantly over her figure.
Ned agreed and paid for the clothes, and we left the store in our new outerwear, our footsteps echoing on the cobblestones.
As we returned to the Red Keep, I only hoped that King Robert had calmed down enough to listen to Ned. The journey was just beginning, and I, Alaric Stark, knew that the days ahead would be full of challenges.