Chapter 16: The Demon of the Trident

King's Landing looked just as shit as Torrhen remembered. As Frostfang sailed towards the city he looked up at the Red Keep in what was almost disgust. Bran meanwhile was extremely excited on the other side of the ship.

"500,000 people." Ned's voice came from behind Torrhen. "Crammed into that."

"It's a wonder people care so much about the Iron Throne, given that this is your reward for sitting in it." Torrhen said grimly. "I'd rather stay north of the Neck."

"Aye, me too." Ned agreed. "But we have a duty to our King, and to our people."

Torrhen sighed. "How long has it been since you saw King Robert?" He asked.

Ned thought for a moment. "8 years or so, on Pyke." He answered.

"He's fat now." Torrhen told his Father. "With no war he has no purpose. He eats and drinks and whores and sleeps and doesn't do a lot else. If the boar hadn't have got him then the drink would have."

Ned wanted to argue but couldn't find the words. "He has time now though." Was all he could say. "With all that is about to happen, he shall surely have a purpose once more."

Torrhen wasn't sure. "Perhaps the man that killed Rhaegar Targaryen could lead us through the Long Night, Father. I'm not sure that His Grace has that in him anymore."

Ned didn't respond to that but watched on as Frostfang sailed further towards the city. The anchor was dropped just before a small cove close to the Red Keep and a rowboat was dropped for the Stark party to row to the private docks of the King. Torrhen stood, his hand on the wolf head pommel of Winter's Bite. He saw the golden banners of House Baratheon mixed with the blue banner of House Arryn and realised that he was about to meet Jon Arryn for the first time.

The boat came to a stop as it hit the banks, and Ned was the first off. Torrhen helped Bran over the edge before joining his Father and brother in kneeling before King Robert Baratheon, the First of His Name.

"Get up, Ned." Robert told his friend. Torrhen rose just after his Father. "8 years, where have you been? Why haven't I seen you?"

"Guarding the North for you, Your Grace." Ned answered politely. Robert just chuckled and stepped forwards, clasping Ned in a tight hug. Torrhen looked around at the people that had come to greet them as the friends released one another. Jon Arryn was here, as were three of the Kingsguard and a handful of other guards dressed in either Baratheon or Arryn colours. Thankfully no Lannisters were in attendance.

"You must be Torrhen." Robert was in front of him now. "Already wielding, let's see the blade." Torrhen looked at Ned who just nodded his head once. The Stark gripped the handle and unsheathed the sword. "Valyrian Steel." Robert was surprised, but grinned. "Tywin Lannister has been after one of these for decades, and House Stark has two. Ha!"

"How did you get it?" Jon Arryn asked, stepping towards them and greeting Ned fondly.

Torrhen just shrugged. "It was a gift from the Old Gods, Lord Hand."

"Please, Jon is fine." The old man smiled. "We are technically kin after all."

Robert moved along to Bran next. "You'll be a knight one day."

"I'll be Kingsguard." Bran grinned cheerfully.

Robert laughed again. "I look forward to having you guard me." He ruffled Bran's hair. Robert turned back to Ned then, and so Torrhen sheathed the blade. "Your message has scared my council."

Ned didn't betray any emotion. "I apologise for the wording, but fear is a good emotion to have, Your Grace. I bring news, and it's not good news."

Jon was concerned. "Come, let us head into the castle and find Lord Stark and his sons some rooms before we discuss this."

Ned agreed, and so Robert draped his arm around the Warden of the North's shoulders and dragged him away to the castle. The Kingsguard and Jon Arryn followed him, leaving Torrhen with Bran making up the rear. "Is that really King Robert?" Bran whispered.

"Aye, little brother." Torrhen replied.

Bran looked confused. "All of Father's stories about him, the Demon of the Trident… I didn't think he'd be that fat."

Ned had told Torrhen to take Bran to the training yard with Ser Barristan while he spoke with Robert and Jon alone. The Small Council chamber looked empty; Robert was sat in his seat with Jon Arryn in the seat to his left. Ned was stood up, knowing that he needed to get what he came for. He placed a tall box on the table.

"You've had me pondering ever since your raven came, Ned." Jon admitted. "The North has been silent for so long, and then we get a message saying that you are travelling Southwards when I know how much you hate it here."

"Some things are greater than my own feelings about King's Landing." Ned said ominously. "The Night's Watch needs aid."

Robert scoffed. "They always need aid. That man, what's his name Jon?"

"Yoren."

"That's it!" Robert exclaimed. "He comes every year or two begging us for men and we send what we can. Have you been roped in to do his dirty work?"

Ned shook his head. "I come on behalf of Winterfell, on behalf of Westeros."

Jon stroked his brow. "Tell us, Ned."

Sighing, Ned leant on the table. "Both of your Houses are young compared to mine. Jon, your ancestors arrived with the Andals. Robert, yours came with Aegon the Conqueror. House Stark though has been in the North for over 8,000 years. We broke bread with the Children of the Forest and the Giants. We battled the White Walker's in the Long Night. We have known magic; it is in our blood."

"What are you saying?" Jon asked.

"Torrhen is a Greenseer." Ned explained, using the lie. "He has visions of the future and so far they have all come true. He wasn't lying when he claimed that the sword came from the Old Gods. He travelled to the Isle of Faces and pulled two blades from a Weirwood stump. He has seen a second Long Night, he has seen Winterfell at the heart of a great battle between life and death."

The other two occupants of the room didn't know what to say. Jon Arryn let out a held breath and Robert just looked unbelieving. "He sees the future. Your lad?" The King asked.

"And the past, sometimes." Ned told him, trying to work out what to say and what to keep hidden. "Robert, he was summoned by the Green Men."

Jon leant on his elbows, wringing his hands together. "You must admit Ned, this is extremely fanciful."

"It's the truth, Jon." Ned insisted. "The Long Night is coming again. We are seeing more deserters and Wildlings coming from the North than ever before. Benjen has been to the North and found them. He's seen the dead walking." That shocked the pair. Ned sighed and undid the box. Inside was a cage, small enough to hold an arm. The smell was revolting, and the flesh was falling off of the bone, but the arm still moved. Robert bolted out of his chair, standing upright as the severed hand closed and opened again. Jon just stared at it wide eyed. "This is the arm of a dead Wildling. Whatever is going on up there, the dead are moving."

"What black magic is that." Robert whispered.

"This is what will become of us all, Robert. Unless we stop them." Ned explained. "You are the King. Issue a decree to all the Lords to send capable men to the Wall. Offer them gold for their families or places at court, whatever you have to. We need to arm the Wall as a matter of urgency, before it is too late."

Robert was nodding. "You wouldn't come all this way if it wasn't urgent. Jon, see to it that the ravens get sent. I need a drink." He mumbled the last bit to himself. "Ned, join me for supper tonight. We can discuss this… business… then."

Robert left the room with speed, but Jon was still staring at the hand. He reached out for the cage, but Ned stopped him. "Careful, it will try and claw you to death."

Jon nodded, but unlatched the cage anyway gripping the hand by the forearm. It tried to scratch at Jon, but the Arryn held it at arm's length. "How do we stop it?" He asked.

"Fire, they don't like fire." Ned admitted. "But we can make plenty of that in the North. The other request I have of you is to let me meet with Stannis."

"Stannis?" Jon asked.

Ned nodded. "He is the Lord of Dragonstone is he not? I need the obsidian in his mountains. Dragonglass kills these creatures."

Sweating and with heavy breaths, Robb rolled over onto his side of the bed, moving his arm so that his wife could cuddle up into him. She had her eyes closed and a satisfied smile on her lips.

"Who taught you to do that with your tongue?" She asked sleepily. It was early morning, the time the couple usually spent being with each other before they had their duties to attend to.

Robb snorted a light laugh. "Nobody taught me, I just heard women like that is all."

They had been married for almost a year by now however, and Wylla knew him better than that. "You mean Theon told you."

"What? No… no of course…" Robb began to protest, before chuckling. "He may have."

Wylla snuggled closer to him so that their bare bodies were pressed up against one another once more. "He frightens me."

"Theon?" Robb asked. "He's harmless." As soon as he said that though he saw an image of an older Torrhen and a bearded Theon brawling on Dragonstone.

"He's Ironborn." Wylla reminded him. "My Father told me tales about their rebellion when I was a child."

Robb sighed, kissing the top of her head. "Theon has grown up in Winterfell, he's one of us whether he admits it to himself or not. If the time comes when Balon Greyjoy is as stupid as he was a decade ago then he'll be locked up, I swear to you."

Wylla smiled. "I just don't want to risk us, or any future children we have."

"At the rate we're going that will be sooner rather than later." Robb grinned.

Wylla laughed and slapped him on the chest lightly. "Robb!" She exclaimed with a smirk. "I can't help enjoying it so much. I was always taught as a child to put up with my lecherous husband as he had his way with me."

Smirking, Robb pulled his wife on top of him and kissed her deeply. "If anything it's you that has your way with me." He noted.

Wylla smirked again, sitting upwards on his stomach and reaching behind her for his cock. "Perhaps." She grinned. She gripped him in her hand and began stroking, when a knock on the door came. Wylla yelped and faceplanted the bed beside her, pulling the covers up to her chin.

Robb laughed at that, making sure nothing below his chest was showing before shouting. "What is it?"

Maester Luwin entered the room. "Apologies for disturbing you My Lord, My Lady. Another deserter has been captured."

Robb sighed. "Another one?"

"Yes, My Lord." Luwin confirmed.

Groaning, Robb nodded. "Alright, I'll be out soon. Send word to Jon and Theon to meet me by the stables." He then remembered his Father's parting words. "And get Theon to bring Ice. I shall be needing it."

Luwin bowed his head, a small smile on his lips. "At once, My Lord." He backed out of the room, firmly shutting the door.

Wylla groaned. "Do you have to go now? Give the deserter 10 more minutes of life."

Robb laughed, kissing her cheek as he got up. "As much as I want to stay in bed, we have duties."

Wylla feigned unhappiness, but she too got up and put her shift over her head before covering herself with Robb's robe and leaving to her own chambers to get ready for the day. Robb put on his boiled leather armour for the first time, relishing the fact that his Father had trusted both him and Torrhen to start wearing it. Once he was ready, he looked in the mirror. He was 15 now and hair was starting to grow around his face. He stroked it gently, feeling the short, scratchy hair on his fingertips and nodded, before leaving the room to meet out Northern justice.

Jon Arryn led Ned through the Red Keep until they got to a small room, with only a desk and a bookcase inside. Stannis Baratheon was sat at the desk scribbling out on some parchment. He looked up as Ned and Jon entered the room. "Lord Arryn." He greeted. "Lord Stark."

"Lord Stannis." Ned greeted back.

"This is a surprise." Stannis admitted. "Your visit has had us all asking questions as to why you are here."

Ned moved into the room and shut the door, locking it. "I'm actually here to see you." He admitted.

Stannis was visibly shocked. "Me? I thought Robert would have been the reason."

"I needed to tell Robert about the problems we are due to face North of the Wall." Ned admitted. "But it is you that will be the key to winning, not Robert." Ned then explained everything he had already told Robert and Jon, speaking about the White Walkers and the Long Night, and showing Stannis the moving hand. He also went into details about wanting to sure up the Night's Watch before adding. "But I need you, or more importantly, the obsidian on Dragonstone."

Stannis was almost enthralled at the tale. "We have a mountain of the stuff." He admitted. "And you're sure that it can defeat this army of the dead?"

Ned nodded. "My brother, Benjen, found a cache of it on the Fist of the First Men and used it to defeat the others in this wights party." He nodded to the hand on the table. "But the cache wasn't enough, we need enough to arm every man, woman and child in Westeros if we are going to be successful."

Stannis nodded his understanding. "Very well." He looked at the hand once more, creeping the Baratheon Lord out. "What does my brother say about this?"

Jon cleared his throat. "He agreed to reinforce the Night's Watch and has asked for ravens to be sent everywhere to send for men and supplies, but then he begged off for wine."

"Of course he did." Stannis muttered. He stood up, sighing. "How long do we have?"

"Around eight years, give or take." Ned admitted. "Enough time to sort out your other matter."

Both Jon and Stannis looked sharply at Ned. "What other matter?" Jon asked.

"The Queen." Ned said bluntly. "I told you Torrhen was a Greenseer, Jon. He has seen it. Your concerns are justified. Robert's heir is in this room." The other two didn't have a clue as to what they were going to say. "We've been preparing for war." Ned admitted. "We've been silent as we didn't want anybody in the West especially to find out. I told you we have time; we need to sort this matter out and defeat the inevitable reaction from Tywin quickly so that we can recover for the battles that truly mean something."

"Ned, are you aware of what you are saying?" Jon whispered harshly.

"If this wasn't urgent I wouldn't be here." Ned snapped. He turned to Stannis. "I'm willing to offer you my son Brandon to marry your daughter matrilineally. He can take on the Baratheon name, give her Baratheon children. I'll even leave him here to be squired by you, but we need that Dragonglass and we need our focus to be on the North, not fucking around down here with who deserves to sit on the Iron Throne after Robert is dead."

"We can't rush in…" Jon began.

"Torrhen has seen the end of the world, Jon." Ned said harshly. "If we dither and wait then we will all die. All of us. All your children, all of your family will be slaughtered in the chaos. We need Dragonglass and we need unity. We can only get unity when we have a Westerlands that accepts that Stannis is the rightful heir and that Cersei Lannister is a cuckolding traitor, and Tywin will never admit that."

"Who is the father?" Stannis asked.

Ned sighed. "Ser Jaime."

"And how can we prove it?" Jon asked.

"The Lineages and Histories of the Great Houses of the Seven Kingdom's." Ned told them. "A book that details that of every union between Lannister and Baratheon, the only children are of black hair. You've found the smith apprentice, have you not?" Jon nodded. "And little Mya Stone. There was a pair of twins in Casterly Rock that Cersei had killed, there's a girl in the Stoney Sept fathered during his hiding there, there's Edric Storm in Storm's End and there's likely either a pregnant woman or a newborn girl in one of Littlefinger's brothels right now. That's all that I know."

"How do you know so much?" Jon whispered cautiously.

Ned sighed. "Dragon dreams and fire priestess' aren't the only method of prophecy, Jon. Greenseer's are gifted."

"What else do you know?" Stannis asked, intrigued.

Ned leaned back against the door. "I know that Littlefinger wants Jon dead to cause strife between Stark and Lannister. I know that Cersei wants Robert dead before her treason can be exposed. I know that unless we act now, war will tear the Seven Kingdom's apart and all will be lost."

"If all of this is true…" Stannis began.

"It is true." Jon whispered, shocked at the declaration about Littlefinger. "Stannis, I know Eddard, he wouldn't lie about this, not to me."

"Never to you." Ned promised. "I'm here to try and save you."

Jon gripped Ned's shoulder in a mark of respect. "Then we do need to act."

"I'll move back to Dragonstone the next time Robert leaves the capital." Stannis suggested.

"Take Renly with you." Ned said. "Get him away from Lord Tyrell, he'll whisper poison in Renly's ear."

Stannis nodded. "We'll take the fleet, ensure that we have the capability to siege from the sea if needed."

"And I'll call the banners of the Vale." Jon added, taking one of Stannis' parchment pieces and scribbling on it. "I'll give the message to you now, Ned. I don't trust Pycelle not to read it."

"Don't trust anybody." Ned warned them both. "Littlefinger, Varys, Pycelle. Everyone here is out for their own agenda. If we are to do this cleanly, we need to be swift."

The pair nodded. "When do we act?" Stannis asked. "You won't stay, Lord Stark."

Ned shook his head. "Once I'm back in the North after this blasted tourney I'll call my own banners. Wait until Robert goes on a hunt and then arrest the Queen and Ser Jaime. With any luck we can have this over with at that."

"I'll need more men." Jon said to himself. "That will be easy enough I can claim Robin needs to see his home and he will be sent back with an escort; I'll send that request with a raven tonight."

"Robert cannot know until we have proof." Stannis told them. "We can continue searching for the bastards and through that book you mentioned Lord Stark."

"There is still much to do." Ned admitted. "As I said I will stay until the end of the tourney, think of what I have said and make your preparations. If you need me to do anything on the journey back, then all you need do is ask."

The first event of the tourney was the archery, starting the day after the Starks arrived in King's Landing. Usually it was also the least attended event, but when the news that Torrhen was due to enter spread, King Robert, Lord Arryn and a number of other court members had joined Ned and Bran in the stands, and of course with the King in attendance, everybody wanted to join him.

There were 10 targets, and 68 entrants into the archery competition. Torrhen had made it through the first round placing third. The second round was just a single line of archers, the top ten. Torrhen was shown to the target closest to the royal box. He stared at the target trying to drown out most of the noise. He had 6 arrows to shoot at a multicoloured target, with each colour worth a different number of points.

"Archers! Nock your arrows!" The range master shouted. Torrhen did as he was asked, his Weirwood bow feeling good in his hands. "Draw!"

Torrhen pulled back the bow string as far back as he could. The wind was miniscule, so he aimed it close to the yellow centre of the target. "Old Gods hear me now." He whispered. "Send my arrow straight and true."

"Loose!" The Range Master called, and Torrhen released his two fingers holding the string, sending his arrow zooming towards the target, impacting just inside the middle circle. Cheers went up as all ten of the archers had hit the target somewhere. Torrhen didn't have time to check out his opposition however, as he was asked to nock another arrow.

He had quickly fired all 6 of his arrows, with a point total of 29, one off the maximum. Ser Eldrick Sarsfield was the only one to beat him with a maximum score. Grinning, Torrhen turned to the royal box and held his bow up towards them, watching with amusement as Bran was jumping around cheering, shouting his name.

"Well shot." An older man wearing a brooch of ivory and onyx swans, the sigil of House Swann in the Stormlands. "You'll be an unstoppable archer once you reach your majority."

"Thank you, Ser…" Torrhen trailed off.

"Balon Swann." The man smiled. "Lord Stark." He bowed his head.

"Lord Stark is my Father." Torrhen said uneasily. "Just Torrhen will do."

"Lord Torrhen." Balon smiled. "Is that a Weirwood bow?" He asked.

Torrhen nodded, holding it out for Balon to see. The Stormlander looked slightly jealous. "Well with a masterpiece such as that, Sarsfield won't have a chance in the final."

Torrhen felt his cheeks redden at the praise. "I appreciate the kindness, Ser Balon."

"Ah, it is no matter." Balon chuckled. "Just beat him, he thinks he's untouchable as he once squired for Lord Tywin's younger brother, knocking him down a few pegs would do us all a world of good."

Balon patted Torrhen on the shoulder with a firm hand before leaving the Stark to prepare for the final a few minutes later.

Within the hour, it was done. Ser Eldrick had misjudged a sudden burst of wind and had scored 3 points lower than Torrhen, who was quickly swarmed by a number of the others that had entered. A dark man in a feathered cape that called himself Xho picked up the Stark boy on his shoulders and was shouting and raving about the 'young prodigy' as he was being called. He was dropped in front of the royal box, and Torrhen knelt before King Robert.

"Rise, Lord Torrhen." Robert called formally. Torrhen did so and looked up at the large man. "You have performed admirably for a boy of your age. Your talent is to be expected given who your Father is, he was always going to sire talented children." He laughed aloud at that, clapping Ned on the back. "The prize money is yours to do as you wish. 7,000 gold pieces."

Torrhen looked up in surprise. He knew that Robert was exuberant in his spending, but that was a lot for the archery. Torrhen bowed his head and replied. "I thank you, Your Grace. The money will be well used to ensure my seat of Moat Cailin is rebuilt to the finest standards."

Robert just grinned, turning to Ned. "You raised him well Ned." He boasted. "Now then! Your winnings will be taken to your chambers, so come and join us up here boy and we'll watch some proper sport!"

Torrhen snorted a laugh as quietly as he could but did as he was asked. He sat down on the other side of Bran once he got up to the box.

"You were brilliant!" Bran gushed. "The other man kept looking over at you really angry every time you hit the middle!"

"I had the Gods on my side, Bran." Torrhen smiled.

Ned leaned over. "You shot well today." He praised. "That prize money will be most useful in the North."

Torrhen looked around and saw Ser Jaime Lannister preparing for the jousting. "There's more gold to come, Father. I swear to you." He said quietly.