13

Chapter 13: Part XIII... THIRTEEN!!

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Disclaimer: I own nothing, just borrowing for a while.

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"The night is dark and full of terrors but the fire burns them all away"

Melisandre

"Pity about the collateral damage, eh?"

King Joffrey

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The Red Keep - King's Landing – 298 AL

Entering the king's bedroom Eddard Stark found Robert sat up in bed, his shirt hanging open to reveal his chest was tightly bounds by loops of bandages. "Take a seat Ned" Robert greeted him, "but first pour us both some wine and then try some of this roast boar" he instructed his friend, indicating the crystal decanter and silver cups on the nearby table and the large plate piled high with meat that was lying on the bed beside him. "Best I've ever tasted" Robert declared, picking up a large piece and stuffing it into his mouth.

The Hand of the King smiled and poured two cups of wine, handing one to his friend before sitting down on the chair next to the bed. "How are the ribs?" he asked.

"Bloody painful every time I move" Robert replied after washing down his mouthful of roast boar with a swig of wine. "Haven't had broken ribs in years" he continued, 'last time I got them jousting and before that it would have been in battle' he said.

"From what I remember of those battles it was usually you breaking other men's ribs not your own" Stark recalled.

"Yes well you might have favoured a sword but I always preferred hitting them with the hammer, smash the whole bloody breastplate in, they weren't getting up again after that" Robert replied, grinning. "Go on, try the boar" he insisted, Stark reaching over to take a piece and popping it into his mouth.

"It's good" Stark agreed.

"Too right it is" Robert replied. "Best attempted regicide I've ever tasted" he joked, raising the cup to his lips again.

Eddard Stark chuckled but then looked serious again. "You were lucky" he told the king.

"I was lucky my son was there to save my drunken arse" Robert replied. "Twenty years ago I would have never missed with my spear but I'm too slow and too fat these days."

"From what I heard you were too drunk" Stark chided.

"That too" Robert admitted. "I used to have more sense than to fuck about with something that can kill me while I had a bellyful of wine."

Stark smiled. "And it's a lot more of a belly to fill these days."

"Easy now, I already admitted I was fat, no need to keep mentioning it" Robert growled before smiling again. "My boy did good" he said proudly, "kept his nerve when things went to shit and made his bolt count" he continued before reaching for something else that was resting beside the plate of meat. "I'm going to get it gold plated" he said, holding up a crossbow bolt, the steel point slightly deformed by impact and the wooden shaft stained red with blood. "Something Joffrey can show our grandchildren" he continued, looking at the thing intently. "The crossbow bolt he saved their grandfather's life with."

"You were never a fan of crossbows" Stark observed. Like many in the nobility Robert regarded the weapon with distain. Any peasant could bring down the mightiest armoured swordsman in the Seven Kingdoms with a crossbow and some luck, and they wouldn't even have to be close enough to the swordsman to be in danger from him while taking aim.

"No, but I'd knight the one that fired this fucking bolt if I could" Robert declared, laughing uproariously for a moment before his ribs expressed their objection with a stab of pain. "Gods that hurts" he complained, putting down the crossbow bolt again. "I should send for Stannis, no chance of him ever making me laugh and I gave up trying to get him to laugh years ago."

Stark chuckled again. "I guess sending your court jester in to brighten your spirits while you're stuck in here waiting to heal would be a bad idea then" he joked.

"I'll be back on my feet in a couple of days, mark my word" Robert vowed. "I might not be up to running around chasing whores by then but I can still sit on the Iron Throne and rule the kingdom" he said before looking down. The bandages around his chest made his belly stick out even more than normal. "I must have gained five stone since I won that throne" he said sadly.

"I'd have said eight" Stark told him honestly. "Could be five since you kicked Balon Greyjoy's arse though" he said. "You still fitted in your armour and could swing that damn great hammer around like it was a toy back then."

Robert Baratheon sighed. "That was a good war" he recalled wistfully. "Knights from all over Westeros rallied together to kick the living shit out of those fucking pirates and their "Drowned God" bollocks" he said. "I'm not good with peace" he admitted. "Part of me wishes the Targaryens would return, Dothraki Screamers in tow, so I could smash in some breastplates again."

"The Dothraki don't wear breastplates" Stark pointed out. "Talking of which Joffrey gave me a book about them, I'll lend it to you to keep you from getting too bored in here if you like" he offered. "I've read the first couple of chapters, it's not bad" he said. "Lots of fighting and bloodshed, you'll like it."

"Seven hells, he hasn't got you reading as well has he?" Robert replied. "If I hadn't dragged him away from his damn books you'd be eating that boar at my funeral feast."

"There are worse ways for the heir to the throne to spend his time" Stark opined.

"And better ways for a teenage lad to spend it too before the poor sod has to sit on the bloody thing" Robert retorted before turning and looking out of the window. "He's one drunken accident away from wearing the crown" he said in a maudlin tone. "I worry that his blasted mother will try to rule through him, and her own blasted father try and rule through them both" he continued before turning back to Ned. "As soon as my hangover faded this morning I wrote up a will that names you as Lord Regent and Protector of the Realm upon my death" he told him, "If Joffrey hasn't come of age by then anyway" he said. "You'll rule the Seven Kingdoms in his name until he's a full-grown man and can rule himself, you'll hate it even more than I do but you'll do it better than I ever did too."

Stark swallowed. "Where is this will?" he asked.

"The original is in the desk over there and there are copies being made, I had Selmy out there witness it' Robert replied. "Someone might challenge the will but I'd love to see the man with the balls to accuse him of bearing false witness" he added, grinning evilly.

Eddard Stark nodded. Not only was Ser Barristan's reputation as a man of good character accepted across the Seven Kingdoms, only a lunatic would publicly doubt the veracity of his word. Doing so would result in a trial by combat with a man who even Jaime Lannister wouldn't want to risk taking on lightly. Selmy might be getting old now but he had lived long enough to get that way by cutting down every opponent that tried to put him in the ground, plenty of great knights having tried and failed over the years. "If that is what you want" he said eventually.

"I think he'll be a good king, better than me at least even though that's damning the boy with faint praise I know" Robert said. "I didn't used to think so, he used to a horrible little ingrate, but he's growing into a decent man don't you think?" he asked his friend hopefully.

Stark nodded. "He's a nice lad, smart too" he replied.

"At least when I do go to my grave I'll know for certain that my son chose to save my life when all he had to do to sit on the Iron Throne was aim high" Robert said. "Nobody would have ever known" he continued, reaching for another piece of roast boar. "I bet his mother's bloody annoyed with him right now" he suggested only half in jest. "She'll be a lot more angry when she reads her copy of my new will though!" he added with a smirk.

Elsewhere in Maegor's Holdfast, the castle within a castle at the heart of the Red Keep which contained the Royal Apartments, Lancel Lannister was trying to hurry to his destination without looking suspicious or indeed like he was hurrying. He need not have bothered however since as squire to the king and cousin to the he had practically free reign to wander about anyway. As such he was practically ignored by both guards and servants as he made this way to one of the smaller rooms that was accessed by a corridor leading to the Queens Ballroom.

Lancel slowly opened the door and as expected he found Queen Cersei standing there alone. Judging by her expression she was less than happy.

Stepping inside and closing the door behind him Lancel faced Cersei and opened his mouth to speak. Before he could utter a sound however she slapped him across the face, hard.

"I'm sorry" Lancel simpered. "I did what you told me to do, it's not my fault he's still alive."

Cersei glared at him and then slapped him again, harder if anything. "You imbecile!" she snarled. "What if the boar had attacked Joffrey instead of Robert when the drunken fool missed his thrust?" she hissed. "My son could have been gored to death!" she exclaimed, the horrifying image of her beloved Joffrey torn open by the boar's tusks flashing through her mind. "Why did you still get him drunk?" she wanted to know.

Lancel blinked. "I carried out the plan" he defended himself. "You didn't say not to go ahead if Joffrey was there."

The Queen stared at the squire incredulously. "I didn't know Joffrey was going to be there, Robert doesn't usually drag him out on hunting trips" she said. "Don't you have any brains or personal initiative at all?" she asked in disbelief.

"I just did what you told me to do" Lancel persisted. "Does this mean we won't...' he paused. "I mean you promised to let me…" his voice petered out.

Cersei made a sound of derision before narrowing her eyes and slapping Lancel a third time. "Robert's right" she said, not something she could be heard to say often with sincerity, "You are a bloody idiot" she stated. "Why did I ever put my trust in a man that once spent two hours looking for a breastplate stretcher before finding a blacksmith and asking him to make one?"

Lancel blushed with embarrassment, with one side of his face already bright red because of being repeatedly slapped this actually made him look more symmetrical. "What should I do know?" he asked.

Queen Cersei took a deep breath and counted to ten before letting it out again, regaining her composure. "You are going to go see Robert and say you blame yourself for what happened, you should have stopped him drinking once it was obvious he'd drunk too much, and if he wants a different squire you understand."

"But my father will be furious" Lancel responded in dismay. "I'm the King's Squire, it's the only thing he's proud of me for."

"I doubt Uncle Kevan is proud of you for anything" Cersei disagreed. "But in any case Robert won't dismiss you for always being on hand with wine" she continued, "he doesn't want a squire that says no when he asks for a drink."

Lancel was confused. "But then why say I blame myself and offer to leave?" he queried.

"So nobody thinks you did anything wrong" Cersei responded, rolling her eyes. "People who are guilty of something don't go around pleading their guilt" she explained. "Robert is going to blame himself, he knows he drinks too much and fortunately everyone knows that you're intimidated by him and always trying to get on his good side."

"Oh I see" Lancel replied, pouting.

Cersei sighed. Robert was still alive but at least it didn't seem like Ned Stark had told him anything yet regarding suspicions he might have regarding Joffrey's true parentage. Her spies had indicated he was about to, noting that he had visited Robert's bastards, had clandestine private meetings with Varys and Littlefinger and had obtained a book regarding family histories and lineages but perhaps she had moved too early? Or maybe that northern oaf Stark simply wasn't intelligent enough to join the dots and have the picture reveal itself?

It never occurred to her that some of her spies might also be working for someone else and had deliberately spun a tale designed to push her into this course of action prematurely.

Cersei had many character flaws but one of her greatest was that she wasn't as smart as she thought she was and was far from being the master manipulator in reality she was in her mind.

When it came to spinning tales and webs of intrigue it was the spider Varys that reigned supreme.

Notes:

Note from the author:

In the show Arya overhears Varys talking to another Targaryen loyalist regarding Eddard Stark having the book that Jon Arryn had been studying before his death, thinking it was therefore only a matter of time before things came to a head, he was always well aware of what was going on thanks to his spy network (and both Cersei and to a lesser extent Baelish not being as sharp as they like to think) and since it suited his purpose to let it continue he did nothing to prevent the ongoing machinations of the other players.

Since Ned still wasn't doing anything regarding his suspicions (to the annoyance of Baelish no doubt) Varys has stirred the pot by leading Cersei to believe her incest was about to be revealed to the king.

So many factions, sometimes with the same goals, other times in opposition to one another.