Chapter 86 - A Conversation with Lord Stark.
[Chapter Size: 2300 Words.]
Third Person POV.
Kingsland.
...
...
"Promise me, Ned... Promise me..."
Lyanna's voice echoed in Ned Stark's mind as he remained alone in the darkness of his empty cell. His only company was the oppressive silence, and his thoughts were in chaos after everything that had happened.
They hadn't even put him in a proper cell, keeping him in that dungeon instead, as everyone was occupied with the king's burial. They were probably discussing how he was a traitor or how he had tried to seize the throne—that he had planned Robert's assassination... The idea that he had attempted to usurp the throne with Jon's help was absurd.
He didn't know what to think. His men had been slaughtered before his eyes. Littlefinger, with his cynical smile, had pressed a knife to his throat and whispered that he should never have trusted him...
His men had fallen one by one, betrayed and massacred by the city guards serving _____. And the queen... She had just smiled.
Ned felt a crushing weight of guilt. Not only for the death of his men, but because his daughters were still there, in danger. He should have been more careful.
He hadn't foreseen that Sansa might side with the queen and reveal his plans, believing she was securing her marriage to the prince. He didn't know what had happened to Arya, but he hoped she was safe.
The situation outside the castle wasn't any better. There was Jon, and beyond him, his wife had made a mistake with Tyrion Lannister, and now Tywin wanted retaliation.
He didn't know what was worse.
"Where did I go wrong to end up here...?" he murmured as he began to hear footsteps approaching from the darkness.
"That's a good question, but only you can answer that, Uncle."
The figure then emerged from the shadows, and as Lord Stark looked at him, his eyes widened upon seeing who was there.
His nephew, Jon.
"You..."
"Am here? Of course I am. Did you think I would miss the chance to speak with you in this state?" Jon said, looking at him, almost amused by Lord Stark's condition.
"You're behind all those rumors... behind the attack on Robert. You acted savagely, cutting off his limbs..." Lord Stark murmured, looking at him in disgust, but Jon didn't care.
"I didn't lie about the rumors, I just thought it would be interesting for the people to know the truth about those who govern them. Isn't it interesting? Varys, in the end, takes orphaned children and turns them into sneaky spies crawling through the hidden walls of the Red Keep after mutilating them. Or Pycelle, taking advantage of young girls... Not to mention Petyr Baelish, who seems to have a fetish for wanting to sleep with your wife, aside from the fact that he's been stealing from the crown through the loans he's taken from the Iron Bank..." Jon said, watching Lord Stark, who didn't respond.
"In my view, I'm playing a fundamental role for the common people, the nobles, and even for you and the realm." Jon spoke with an ironic tone.
"How do you know all of this?" Lord Stark finally asked, looking directly at Jon.
"I did the same as Varys's spies. After learning all the secret paths, I started exploring the Red Keep... But I ended up seeing some unpleasant things too—like Pycelle surrounded by prostitutes, brought in secretly, and even the queen fucking her own cousin. Did you know that the king was slowly poisoned by Lancel Lannister himself while he was out hunting?" Jon said.
"Before you tortured him?" Lord Stark raised an eyebrow in disgust.
"I gave him a fight. Even though it was just the two of us, I faced him after telling him the truth. But unfortunately for him, even if he were still in his prime, he was up against me, and the result would have been the same..." Jon said, a smile spreading across his face as he looked at Lord Stark.
"Do you intend to kill us all?"
Lord Stark remained silent for a few seconds before asking, his voice weaker than before.
"I have no interest in destroying your families through death, but I do want to destroy their names and their lands. I won't allow them to continue their lineage after what they did years ago. I won't kill children, but I will erase their names." Jon said.
"You know that's cruel..." Lord Stark said, seeming to accept his defeat before his nephew.
"Cruel is what they did to my brothers. I hate the idea that, even without knowing them, they were slaughtered like animals." Jon spoke in a dark tone.
"You can do this in other ways... You don't have to throw the realm into chaos." Ned said, while Jon looked at him with irony. After all, this was the same man who had told him he had no army to support him—that ruling Westeros might be impossible for him.
"Chaos is going to happen either way. I'm just revealing the truth that the common people don't know. This city is doomed to rebellion, the Crown is drowning in debt, the realm is nearly in the hands of Tywin Lannister, and now, with his grandson—the bastard born from the queen's incest with her brother—the Lannisters will have total control over the Seven Kingdoms. Ironic, don't you think?" Jon said.
"..." Lord Stark said nothing.
"You were looking for Jon Arryn's killer. You knew it wasn't the Lannisters, though the queen did order it in passing once the former Hand started uncovering the truth about the bastards... but the one who killed him was none other than Lysa, your sister-in-law." Jon said.
"I don't believe it!" Lord Stark immediately said.
"Don't believe it, then. And die deluded, just as you are, dear uncle. But she didn't act alone—she was influenced by her lover, Petyr Baelish. Then, Maester Pycelle ensured that Jon Arryn died without anyone discovering which poison had killed him. It's all an unchecked mess. Not even in Skyrim or in Tamriel itself were there courts where people plotted to kill each other so much, or where corruption ran so deep... I mean, sure, there was always some bastard giving in to power here and there, but in Westeros? It's excessive." Jon spoke, mocking the situation.
"Skyrim? Tamriel? Is that where you've been?" Lord Stark looked at him in surprise, searching for answers.
Jon raised an eyebrow at that.
"Yes, but you shouldn't be worried about that. After all, you've never really been there. Not that it matters now—you'll be executed soon." He said.
"I don't think it will happen so easily... I am still the Lord of the North... That would cause a war." Ned said.
"It will happen because there are people who want you dead. One of them is Petyr Baelish, did you know that? You see, I was surprised to find someone so eager to destroy the Starks—more than me. I want to kill him, but I have no such desire against your children. But him... he's different. He wants to kill all of you." Jon said.
"What do you mean by that?" Ned immediately sought an answer. By this point, Jon had gained some credibility—he didn't seem to have lied about anything so far, no matter how outrageous his claims seemed.
"I found it strange at first, but I started looking into his past, and it was easy to see why... Brandon Stark, your brother, challenged Petyr shortly after the Tourney at Harrenhal—all for Catelyn Stark's hand. He was gravely wounded for it, but he still had to watch his beloved be forced to marry you for the sake of the war. He surely hates your family more than anything." Jon said, pausing before speaking what Ned Stark had likely already begun to realize.
"He's whispering in the king's ear that you must die, and that golden brat is clearly sadistic—he'll love seeing your head separated from your neck." Jon said.
Ned stood there, staring at the ground once again. If this was true, then he was doomed to die.
His gaze returned to Jon, studying him. He could ask to be saved by him, but clearly, his nephew had no such intention. Everything he had done so far made it clear—Jon was only watching all of this as if it were a spectacle. He had become extremely powerful and could act like an assassin.
Ned realized he knew nothing about his nephew anymore. There was nothing else he could ask. His fate seemed sealed here.
"My daughters... Are they safe? Can you at least tell me that, Jon?" He asked, almost pleading.
"I told you not to call me that—once." Jon spoke with disapproval, disliking being addressed that way by someone he despised.
But in the end, he sighed.
"Your eldest daughter is with the royal family at the funeral... but she's being kept as a prisoner." Jon informed him.
"Almost everyone you brought from the North is dead... only one or two survived, and they certainly won't have a good fate. Petyr Baelish took that Jeyne Poole to a brothel—she'll probably be made into a prostitute." Jon said.
"That... Arya?" Lord Stark couldn't help but feel the ground disappear beneath him as his rage toward Petyr Baelish grew like never before.
"Your youngest daughter managed to escape... I found her in the secret passages before coming here..."
This immediately made Ned look at him in surprise.
"I helped her get out and placed her under the protection of a group of people I met in the city. They will keep her safe and take her somewhere secure." Jon said.
Lord Stark let out a sigh of relief, believing that at least Arya would be safe.
"Can you get her out of the city?" Ned asked immediately, while Jon raised an eyebrow.
"I have no obligation to do that." Jon said.
"Please. I know I was never a good uncle, and maybe I was cruel to you... but please, save my daughter." Ned pleaded, looking at him with the eyes of a father desperate for his child's safety.
"How touching. If this were twelve years ago, I would've been jealous. After all, I was just a boy who wanted to be cared for like that too." Jon mocked.
"But I'm not that boy anymore. Anyway, goodbye. Enjoy your stay in your cell before you're taken to your execution." Jon said simply, turning around.
"Jon..." Ned called out, but Jon didn't even respond, disappearing from the cell, leaving Lord Stark alone once again.
Jon walked toward the throne room, passing through everyone as he thought about how to make his stay in King's Landing more entertaining.
"So this is the chair everyone keeps fighting over..." Jon murmured, examining it closely, running his fingers over the metal. It was made of swords, just as Aegon had forged it, built from the blades of his defeated enemies.
"Quite symbolic, in my opinion..." Jon murmured. "Maybe we can change a few things around here."
And so, he began to act.
A few hours later, everyone left the Great Sept of Baelor, returning to the Red Keep in mourning.
"I will start acting as king immediately." Joffrey announced as he moved forward.
"Don't you want to leave these duties for tomorrow, dear? You must be tired." Cersei tried to argue, but Joffrey shook his head.
"My father was murdered, we captured Lord Stark, but his bastard is still out there, spreading lies, calling me a bastard. I want him dead—I want to see his head chopped off as soon as possible!" Joffrey declared as the doors to the throne room opened for him.
Wearing a richly detailed cape, he stepped inside. He had been crowned king that very day by the High Septon in front of everyone, now wearing his golden crown.
But as soon as he entered, followed by the Kingsguard, he couldn't help but stop—just like everyone else.
They had expected to see the Iron Throne before them, standing in its rightful place.
But what they found was not that at all.
Because the Iron Throne was no longer there.
"Th-this..." Joffrey trembled, stunned, while the others were left in shock.
Where the Iron Throne should have been, there was now a chamber pot—one that Jon had taken from somewhere in the castle. And the stench of shit quickly filled the room, making everyone grimace, completely unable to comprehend what was happening.
"WHAAAAT IIIIIS THIIIIIIS?!" Joffrey screamed hysterically.
Jon smirked from a hidden corner, watching the spectacle unfold. He had taken the Iron Throne and stored it in his dimensional space. He could tell Daenerys that they had retrieved the throne in some way.
And he was eager to see how the Lannisters would handle this.
Joffrey kept screaming while Cersei and Sansa tried to calm him down. But replacing the throne with a chamber pot, now that he was king, had to be the greatest insult a ruler of Westeros had ever received.
Jon wished he could stay longer, but he felt something. His eyes turned white as he saw through his animals.
"Those idiots... Fine, don't blame me for what happens to you next..." Jon muttered to himself as he began to leave, abandoning the scene of the hysterical king searching for his throne—and the one responsible for the insult.
-------------Nexts Chapters ----------------
Chapter 91 - The trial of Lord Stark 01.
Chapter 96 - Meeting the Mountain.
Chapter 106 - The Blood Eagle.
Chapter 115 - Westeros hears about Braavos.
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