wtfbengt
patreon
Chapter 144
🕑 Added 2025-01-28 22:31:51 +0000 UTCThe door to the Hand’s office was flung open without warning, and the guards outside didn’t even attempt to stop the intruder. Had their vigilance deteriorated, or had they simply abandoned their sense of duty?
Eddard Stark barely had time to feel either confusion or anger. He looked up, only to rise from his chair in shock. "Your Grace... you’re back already? This morning, I was told the earliest you’d arrive would be tomorrow."
"Don’t get me started. I’ve been riding all day." Robert Baratheon strode to the chair opposite Eddard’s desk, his face dark as he pulled it out and sat heavily. "With this mess happening at home, how could I leisurely hunt or chase skirts along the Kingsroad? I didn’t even properly deal with that madwoman Lysa—just sent her back to Riverrun and got on my way."
"Your Grace, Lysa was involved in matters concerning Jon Arryn’s death. Handling her so hastily seems... rather careless, doesn’t it?"
"Enough! Barristan’s already driven me mad with his nagging—don’t you start as well!" Robert snapped, slamming his palm on the desk. "It’s your wife’s sister, for the Seven’s sake. What would you have me do? Hang her? Stick her head on a spike outside the Red Keep? And why in the bloody hell don’t you have any wine in here?"
"I usually drink water. Alcohol dulls the mind." Eddard sighed, reaching under the desk for his water jug. He poured a cup and handed it to Robert before sitting back down. "It’s not about punishing Lysa. It’s about maintaining appearances. Sending her back home without any form of consequence—"
"The Seven help me! I haven’t had plain water in over a decade!" Robert downed the cup in one gulp, but the bland liquid didn’t quench his thirst. He put the cup aside with a dissatisfied grimace. "Three children who carry my name but might not be mine, and you think I have the patience to debate how best to deal with Lysa? Enough talk—tell me about these blasted rumors spreading through the city. What’s going on?"
"The rumors were spread by a few pimps and doormen from a brothel that used to belong to Petyr Baelish. The mastermind is none other than Littlefinger himself, the former Master of Coin who has now fled."
"I’ve read your reports, Ned. Spare me what’s already in writing. What I want are the results of your investigation!"
"Results?" Eddard leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he fixed his oldest friend with a deep gaze. "Robert, what kind of result are you looking for?"
"What kind of result?" Robert’s face flushed red as he stared at Eddard. "I want to know how much of these rumors are true! Did Cersei actually sleep with Jaime? Are Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen even my children? Is that clear enough for you?"
"Perfectly clear." Eddard’s expression darkened. "And, regrettably, my answer is that I don’t know. You’re well aware of my hatred for the Kingslayer—I’ve never hidden it. I even urged you to send him to the Wall. But despite that, I won’t lie just to confirm my biases. All I can do is share the facts I’ve uncovered and let you decide what to do next. Does that sound acceptable?"
Robert clenched his jaw, his chest rising and falling with barely suppressed fury. Few things were more humiliating for a man than having his wife’s infidelity and the legitimacy of his children questioned. But as a king, Robert had to tread carefully. This was a royal scandal that couldn’t simply be dropped on the Hand’s shoulders to resolve.
Swallowing his anger, Robert spoke. "Fine. Tell me what you’ve found."
Eddard studied Robert’s face, noting that for once, the king appeared calm and rational. If only he could always be like this, Eddard thought bitterly, the realm might not be in such disarray. He cleared his throat and began.
"The individuals spreading the rumors have been captured. To ensure they weren’t scapegoats set up by the accused parties, I had their activities, from the crime to their arrest, thoroughly investigated. It was confirmed that they weren’t framed. However... their capture involved Tyrion Lannister’s intervention."
Robert frowned. "Tyrion? What does he have to do with this?"
"That remains unclear. It’s possible he was simply concerned about the rumors implicating his siblings and acted to minimize the damage. It’s a plausible explanation. I won’t speculate—I’ll only provide the facts and let you draw your conclusions."
"Go on," Robert said, his tone restrained.
"On that note, there’s something I need to confess. During your journey north to Winterfell to recruit me as Hand of the King, Catelyn and I received a letter from Lysa, claiming that Jon Arryn had been murdered by the Lannisters. In hindsight, it seems likely that Littlefinger was behind her accusations. If that’s the case, his long-standing enmity toward House Lannister explains his role in spreading these rumors before fleeing."
Robert’s expression softened slightly. "So the rumors were indeed orchestrated by Littlefinger?"
"That appears to be the case, yes," Eddard confirmed. "His motives remain unclear, but the evidence suggests that he was the one who fabricated and disseminated the rumors."
Robert nodded, the tension in his face easing somewhat. "That’s good to know. But catching the spreader doesn’t mean the rumors themselves are false. There’s no causal link there. What I need are the facts—the proof to confirm or deny these claims!"
How long had it been since Eddard had heard Robert speak so coherently and logically? He couldn’t recall. That it took a scandal threatening the very foundation of his rule to make him think critically was both tragic and infuriating. Shaking off the thought, Eddard continued.
"I thought the same, which is why I dug deeper. And in doing so, I uncovered a problem."
"What problem?" Robert’s eyes widened.
"The Lannisters have far too many people in King’s Landing." Eddard shook his head. "If we exclude the City Watch, the Lannisters’ personal guards outnumber those of both House Stark and House Baratheon combined."
"The City Watch counts as Baratheon forces, Ned," Robert countered with a scowl. "They may not wear the stag, but they’re loyal to the crown in King’s Landing. The Baratheons of Storm’s End and the Baratheons of the Red Keep may be distinct branches, but we’re still one house—at least for now."
"Perhaps, but I have my doubts. The commander of the City Watch, Janos Slynt, is a man who would do anything for gold."
"I know exactly what kind of man Slynt is," Robert interrupted. "He’s a scoundrel, but he’s loyal to me. Everything he has, I gave him. As long as I’m alive, he won’t betray me. Trust me on that, Ned. I may spend my days drinking and whoring, but I’m not blind when it comes to matters of survival."
"Fair enough." Eddard raised a hand to end the topic. "Let’s assume the worst happens and something erupts in King’s Landing. Do we have the strength to take control by force? Now, about finding the truth—how do we uncover it?"
And so the search for answers began.
