Finding the small man wasn't easy. Syrio Forel. A former First Sword of Braavos. Ned Stark hired him to teach Arya the water dancing—good for her, since no matter how much she tried, the little twig wouldn't be able to do hack-and-slash any time soon. Maybe there's only one girl out there who can.
Brienne of Tarth.
Now that was a knight I would like to meet one of these days. Arguably the only decent knight who actually cares about a knight's conduct.
"You must be Ser Thor. It's an honor to meet the one who defeated the Mountain. They are calling you the Mountain Slayer," Syrio said with excitement. Though his tone and words didn't give away the grumpiness he was hiding from being forced to get up early.
"The pleasure is all mine. I've heard much about the First Sword of Braavos," I replied, a little bashful for waking the short man this early, but I couldn't help it. I needed someone trustworthy to help me out.
"I would like to hire your services." I didn't wait much and directly came to the topic—didn't have much time on hand.
"I have already been hired by the Lord Hand to teach Arya child the water dance."
"Yes, I'm aware. Here is the rest of the reward you've been promised." I took out a pouch of gold and placed it near him, which earned me a curious and confused glance from him.
"Ned Stark has ordered me to take both of his daughters back to Winterfell. King's Landing is not safe anymore for them," I said and saw his smile, mixed with a hint of irritation regarding the timing, stiffen a little upon hearing me.
"I need someone to help me protect them. I don't believe anyone in the city. You, however, I believe are trustworthy. As I said, I've heard about the First Sword of Braavos,".
He didn't respond immediately. He pondered over it before finally nodding his head—just when I was about to put more money on the table.
"You sure? It will be dangerous."
"I'm a hired mercenary, ser. My entire life is dangerous."
"You help us, and the rest of the Seven Kingdoms might as well call for your head. Is gold worth courting death?"
"Men never court death, good ser. Death's call comes to us. And Syrio Forel, the former First Sword of Braavos, has only one thing to say to the eternal peace."
"NOT TODAY..."
[Throne Room]
The heavy doors of the throne room opened wide as Eddard Stark walked in with his guards. His face was calm, but his eyes were sharp. He knew that what he was doing wasn't wise. This would definitely put a target on his back—if not, he might even lose his life here in the south. Not even his bones would reach the North. But he had to do it. His honor wouldn't let him just sit by and let a bastard take the Seven Kingdoms for himself. In his hands, he held a rolled letter—King Robert's final order, naming him Protector of the Realm until the true heir was of age.
Well, of course he changed the last words of his friend, but only to keep the realm secured.
On the Iron Throne sat Joffrey Baratheon, dressed in royal colors, a smug look on his young face. The Queen stood proudly beside him. Lords and knights lined the hall, many unsure of what was about to unfold.
Ned didn't bow. He walked straight to the center of the room.
"I come with the last command of King Robert Baratheon," Ned said loudly so all could hear. "His final words, sealed by his hand."
Ned looked at Ser Barristan Selmy, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. "I believe no one could question your honor in this room, Ser Barristan. I ask you to read the letter."
Barristan stepped forward, took the letter, and broke the seal. He read the words aloud, his voice clear and steady. When he reached the part naming Ned as Protector of the Realm, the hall fell silent.
Cersei's face hardened. She stepped forward, her eyes cold.
"Give me that letter," she demanded.
Barristan hesitated but handed it over.
Without blinking, Cersei tore it in half. Then again.
"But those were the king's last words," Ned Stark said with a little stunned face.
"The king is dead," she said. "We have a new king now."
Ned took a step forward. "I won't let that happen."
"Then you are a traitor," Cersei replied without any emotion in her words.
The Queen kept on staring at Ned, but he didn't back down and went on to tell the truth about Joffrey's real parentage. Of course, this led to Joffrey asking for his head. Tension rose in the room.
With a single motion, the Queen signaled. Swords were drawn. The white cloaks of the Kingsguard turned on Ned. His northern men raised their blades in response.
Steel clashed.
The throne room erupted into chaos.
Ned fought to protect himself, but he saw that they were outnumbered. One by one, his men fell. Now that he thinks about it, maybe Thor being here would have really helped. But for him, his daughters' safety was more important than his own life.
Knowing that with Thor on their side, they would be safe, he was relieved. He didn't wish this to happen, but the fight was inevitable. The war coming would have been inevitable. His heart was still in conflict, however. Ned Stark still did what he has been doing his entire life—do what his honor tells him is just.
He saw his men dying. He brought them to their death. A sense of guilt spread onto him. He knew that even if he won, the outcome would be bloodied, and winning was unlikely. He brought all his men—northern men—to their deaths.
"Capture him! I'll have his head! Bring me his head!" shouted Joffrey, pointing at Ned Stark, who was struggling now—he was outnumbered.
Cersei, hearing this, immediately tensed up. She might be just as crazy as her brother; however, even she knew what would happen if Ned Stark were to die here. War would start. And unlike how she behaves, she knows that there are not many kingdoms who really support the Baratheon rule completely like they used to with Targaryen. They still needed North's support.
She had to stop her lion from doing that. Not to mention she was also worried about where Thor was. By now, even the entire King's Landing knew that Thor might as well be the mightiest warrior the Seven Kingdoms has ever seen.
She definitely wasn't over-exaggerating because she got hot for him. So, him not being here unnerves her. In fact, she was especially worried about Thor. If he really fights, would anyone be able to stop him?
Ned Stark sighed. He knew his outcome—knew it even before he entered the Throne Room. He should have listened to Thor, but even now, he didn't regret anything. Nothing but one: that he brought his daughters to the south. Now he could only hope that Thor kept them safe.
"Surely the Old Gods won't be that cruel to demand my children's lives..."
xxx
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