The Way Of Winter | Robb Stark

ARYADNE - X

NO SOONER HAD Aryadne's tears dried, the order came for the Court to meet in the Great Hall. In a fresh, black dress and a veil over her bruised face, she stood by her mother's side, at the foot of the Iron Throne. It was an impressive structure. Steps led up to the seat of dulled swords, with even more spiking out around it at all angles, forged from enemy blades by Aegon the Conqueror's dragonfire. It had been her father's for her entire life. Now, her brother sat there instead.

Ser Barristan Selmy and the rest of his most senior members of the Kingsguard lined the steps before them, and more stood at either side of the hall, their spears ready. Though she looked around at each face, she could not see any courtiers, only guards.

The doors at the far end of the hall opened. Through the dark silk of her veil, she watched Ned Stark limp into view. Two dozen polished helms glistened in the shadows behind him.

An announcement rang out with each step he took towards them. "All hail Joffrey of Houses Baratheon and Lannister, the First of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm."

He stopped. Behind him, leading the City Watch in their march, were the lords Varys and Baelish. Even now, Renly was not with them. She sensed a cold pricking of her skin at the sight of their approach and his absence. Surely Ned could not have been so foolish as to bring armed men into the safety of the Great Hall. Her brother would not take kindly to it.

Above on his new throne, the one he had been eyeing since he was old enough to know he should, Joffrey regarded them with all the extra arrogance afforded by his new position - she prayed that Ned had finished writing up her father's last decree. "I command the council to make all necessary arrangements for my coronation. I wish to be crowned within the fortnight. Today, I shall accept oaths of fealty from my loyal councillors."

She didn't expect much else from him. Still, she thought he would know the folly in making demands so soon.

Ned was quiet for a moment. He looked out at them, to her brother, then to where she stood, to her mother sat before her, and finally to the guards that separated him from a true conversation. "Ser Barristan, I believe no man here could ever question your honour."

He produced a scroll. Confused, the elder man took it from him and turned it over in his gloved hands with caution. "King Robert's seal - unbroken." At a slight nod from her mother, he approached and unfurled it, reading aloud, "'Lord Eddard Stark is herein named Protector of the Realm, to rule as regent until the heir come of age'."

Behind the safety of her veil, Aryadne could not help her smirk at the sight of Joffrey's horror. The aching of her cheek was a quick reminder of her place. She bowed her head again, hands clasped before her, and watched in silence as her mother rose. "May I see that letter, Ser Barristan?" He gave it to her without a word. She looked it over. "'Protector of the Realm'. Is this meant to be your shield, Lord Stark? A piece of paper?"

The parchment fell to the floor in torn pieces. The breath caught in Aryadne's throat and yet she did not dare to speak out, not even for her father's last wishes. Ser Barristan was the only one to protest, albeit timidly, "Those were the King's words."

"We have a new king now," she coldly replied. "Lord Eddard, when we last spoke, you offered me some counsel. Allow me to return the courtesy. Bend the knee, my lord. Bend the knee and swear loyalty to my son, and we shall allow you to live out your days in the grey waste you call home."

Aryadne nodded her head, just enough for him to see, praying that he would abandon any sense of pride in favour of his life. His eyes locked with hers. "Your son has no claim to the throne."

"Liar!" Joffrey yelled.

"You condemn yourself with your own mouth, Lord Stark. Ser Barristan, seize this traitor."