A Vow Without Honor

The Players

"I don't suppose any of them are going to be witnesses at the trial," Ned spoke, his humor making a rare appearance. He always had been better at it when his life was on the line.

"Afraid not, Lord Stark," Barristan said. "You're quite alone in this place."

Strangely, the thought was a comforting one. It meant his children were far away, and could not be used against him, or their brother should he decide to do something. If he had to die alone in the South for their safety, he would declare his guilt for the entire kingdom to hear.

Ser Barristan was ever the noble knight, allowing Ned to freely walk to the throne room, while he stood at his side. Though his hands were still bound, his lead had been cut, allowing him some dignity as he entered.

A hundred faces he did not know turned to him at once. Young lords and ladies whose fathers and grandfathers he had once met, fought beside, or even against, watched him with accusing and bemused eyes. Guards stood in silent vigil on either side, looking at anything but him as they held the line between the accused and the gallery. And at the end of it all sat the Iron Throne, and the lions he was to be thrown to.

Joffrey, whom he supposed had been crowned king since he was locked away, was seated on the Iron Throne, looking more a boy than ever as the seat of authority threatened to swallow him. Cersei was to his right, still dressed in black, though a large, red lion had been embroidered on the bodice of her dress. The smug look on her face only diminished slightly upon realizing he wasn't been dragged into court the way she would have wanted.

Ned took some small satisfaction in that.

To Joffrey's left, however, was an unexpected sight. Janos Slynt, the Commander of the City Watch, had taken up a seat of honor. His grin was possibly more unbearable than Cersei's.

Barristan returned to his place beside the boy king, leaving Ned to stand alone before the throne. They had not even placed pulpits for the witnesses. No one expected this trial to last long.

"Lord Eddard Stark," Joffrey began, looking far too comfortable in his seat of power. He hardly seemed like a boy who had just lost his father. Although, Ned supposed Robert had never been much of a father to him or to any of his supposed children. There was a bastard girl in the Vale he had taken to once, long ago when she was his first child, but like most things, his interest had waned. "You stand accused of regicide, for the murder of my father, King Robert Baratheon. How do you plead?"

Ned looked at the three people staring down at him. What a farce this was.

"Am I to be tried by my accuser?" he asked, looking between Cersei and Joffrey.

The Queen smirked. "You are accused by Ser Boros Blount of the Kingsguard."

Of course he was.

"And what of this man?" Ned motioned to Janos. "Am I not to be judged by a proper lord?"

The commander's face reddened at the slight. "I have been granted Harrenhal's seat, for my role in ending your traitorous schemes."

For his role in slaughtering his household, more like. What sort of man took pride in butchering servants and septas?

Cersei's smile grew. "Lady Whent relented the castle to my father some days ago."

Ned thought to end it there, to just let them be done with it all, though he doubted they would actually execute him right away. With his daughters gone, Cersei had no one to hold the North at bay other than him. But Ned was no fool. No scenario was going to end with him walking away, not even if he requested trial by combat. If he was fortunate enough to survive fighting one of the Kingsguard, there was no doubt in his mind a knife in the dark would find him at some point.