Upon entering the Red Keep, Eddard Stark found himself feeling both familiar and strange around his old friend Robert.
He remembered parting ways after the Greyjoy Rebellion. Back then, Robert was a powerfully built giant, his face clean-shaven, his eyes clear—a man who made maidens swoon. When clad in his war armor and his great antlered helm, wielding his warhammer, he was a true titan, striking fear into the hearts of all his enemies.
Who could have guessed that in just six years, his waistline would have expanded to match his height?
"I need a room to change, and if possible, a tub of hot water," Eddard told the Steward of the Red Keep, who was waiting nearby.
His riding leathers were soaked with sweat, and his linen shirt clung uncomfortably to his back. He reeked not only of sweat but of the heavy scent of horse from days of hard riding.
The Steward bowed. "Lord Arryn has already prepared chambers for you and your retinue in the Tower of the Hand, my lord. Please, follow me."
"Uncle."
Eddard turned to see Arthur and Jory approaching quickly.
He grasped Arthur by the shoulders, looking up slightly to examine his nephew, who had now grown taller than him.
Black hair, violet eyes, tall and handsome. For a fleeting moment, Eddard felt as though the late Brandon Stark was standing before him once more.
"Arthur. Let me get cleaned up first. Rest assured, I am here now." Eddard patted Arthur on the shoulder, then instructed Jory to settle the men.
After washing up and changing into a fresh silk tunic, Eddard stepped out of his bedchamber.
In the solar, Arthur was showing Dawn to the guards from Winterfell.
As Eddard looked at the milky-white, glass-like greatsword, his mind involuntarily drifted back to the Tower of Joy and his dying sister, Lyanna.
"Promise me, Ned... Promise me." She had cried out to him in that room that smelled of blood and roses.
"Some lies... are not without honor." Eddard banished the dusty memories from his mind and addressed the guards gathered around the sword.
"All right, leave us. I need to speak with Arthur alone."
Once the guards had left, only the uncle and nephew remained in the room.
"Tell me everything about your time in Starfall," Eddard said.
During the years Arthur was in Braavos, letters had still arrived. But after he reached Starfall, news had become scarce. Starfall and Winterfell were worlds apart, making communication difficult.
As Eddard listened to Arthur's account, he studied his nephew's face, no longer boyish. He hadn't expected Arthur to experience so much in just a few years.
Small skirmishes and wars, tourneys, becoming the Sword of the Morning, and even taking a paramour...
Just as Arthur finished recounting his journey, a knock came at the door.
"My Lord, the King summons you."
Eddard stood up and patted Arthur's shoulder again. "Lord Paxter's actions were devoid of honor. Just wait for the summons to the inquiry."
Crossing the corridor, Eddard followed the servant to the Small Council chamber. Along the way, servants were rushing about, busy preparing for the welcome feast.
"Robert, you are the King! Ordering assassins to kill is dishonorable!"
"They are dragonspawn! They deserve to die!"
"I will not agree to this."
As soon as Eddard entered the Small Council chamber, he heard Robert and Jon arguing fiercely.
"What is happening?" Eddard took the seat next to Jon Arryn.
Jon rubbed his forehead wearily. Robert drained a goblet of wine in one gulp, roared at a blonde squire to refill it, and then looked at Eddard.
"We were discussing sending men to eliminate the dragonspawn across the Narrow Sea. Viserys Targaryen and Daenerys Targaryen."
Eddard asked tentatively, "Your Grace, surely you do not mean to hire assassins? That is murder. And the targets are children. Murdering children is... it is unspeakable."
"Unspeakable?" Robert slammed his fist onto the table, splashing wine from his goblet. "What Aerys did to your brother Brandon, that was unspeakable! Think of how your father died screaming—that was unspeakable! And Rhaegar... how many times do you think he raped your sister? How many hundreds of times?"
"It was because they committed such dishonorable and monstrous acts that the gods, the lords, and the people abandoned them, leading to the fall of the Targaryen dynasty," Jon Arryn countered, his brow furrowed. "Robert, do you wish to follow their path?"
The King opened his mouth, his face flushed red, wanting to retort. In the end, he just grabbed his goblet and washed his words down with wine.
"Your Grace," Eddard said softly. "You killed Rhaegar on the Trident. You won the crown. Two children cannot threaten the realm."
"I would kill Rhaegar ten thousand times for what he did to your sister," Robert growled, wiping wine from his beard. He glared, his voice rising again. "Even innocent children grow up. And we will grow old. Did you not hear what the commoners called me just now? Usurper! The Beggar King's bane!"
His voice suddenly turned hoarse. "How many lords in the Seven Kingdoms still think of me as the Usurper? When the dragonspawn Viserys lands on Westeros and raises his dragon banner, how many lords will flock to him?"
Jon rubbed his temples tiredly. "I hear Viserys has pawned his crown. The people across the Narrow Sea call him the Beggar King. As long as we rule justly and keep our honor, who would support a Beggar King?"
"Jon, Ned... perhaps you are right." Robert deflated like a punctured wineskin, slumping back into the chair that represented the King's authority. He let out a self-deprecating laugh. "A mercenary king is at least more respected than a beggar king. A mercenary trades coin for service, while a beggar trades dignity."
"Damn it all. It's your fault for shoving this iron chair under my ass."
Taking the opportunity, Eddard formally requested to serve as a judge in the dispute between the Arbor and Starfall.
Robert waved his hand dismissively. The fire in his eyes had faded, replaced by deep exhaustion. "Do as you please. Just don't miss the feast I'm throwing for you tonight."
He paused, his voice suddenly softening. "And Ned... if you dare call me 'Your Grace' again, I'll have your head on a spike. Between the three of us, we are more than just King and subjects."
"I will not forget," Eddard replied quietly.
At the welcome feast later that evening, many nobles were in attendance, including a significant contingent from the Reach: Mace Tyrell, Mathis Rowan, Paxter Redwyne, and others.
Eddard had Arthur sit beside him, a clear sign of his support.
Robert, meanwhile, did not sit on the dais upon the King's throne. Leaving the Queen to sit alone, he descended to the tables below, drinking with the gathered lords and knights, refusing no food or wine offered to him, and displaying his immense, charismatic charm.