Chapter Text
Robert rode slowly towards his tent in roaring silence, the sounds of the throngs of tourney goers drowned out by the weight of his thoughts. Robert, to put it bluntly, was confused. He had told that self-righteous prick that he would become Hand of the King to oppose him. He had achieved what he said he would do, even though it was upon the whims of a madman. He should have counted it a victory, but it felt as if it was anything but. In truth, he didn't want to be anywhere near the throne, let alone sit in on even if it was only in place of the king. He admitted to himself that his ultimatum to Rhaegar had been ill-thought-out, and it infuriated him that he was now forced into the position. He was left with a single path forward and hated it with a burning passion. It was a familiar hatred, comfortable like a warm cloak. It was a hatred of dragons that burned so deeply in his soul that he had once thought the murder of defenseless children was justified. Recognizing that old hatred gave him pause. He knew he could not fully give in to such blind animosity again, but there is such a thing as righteous anger. He would have to move forward with caution and guile. He would have to play the game. The mere thought made bile gather in the back of his throat and caused his anger to burn even hotter.
He was shaken out of his brooding by the voice of his betrothed calling his name. He looked up to see her moving towards him as fast as dignity allowed for a well-dressed lady. He smiled and dismounted to meet her. She looked as if she were preparing to leap into him, but she seemed to reconsider her surroundings just in time and came to a stuttering stop just before him.
"My lady," Robert said with a fond smile.
"You are well?" She replied cautiously, seemingly unsure if it should be an observation or a question.
"I am no worse for wear than when we last spoke," he said, hoping to allay her concerns. Lyanna smiled, though she could scarcely hide her desire to launch into a dozen questions. Robert reached out and gently held her hands to reassure her.
"I know we have much to discuss, Lyanna, but I'd rather not have to tell and retell the story. So, please be patient until I can tell everyone who needs to know all at once," he said in what he hoped was a convincing tone. He then offered his arm to escort her back to the tent. She accepted his arm with a sigh.
"I suppose I'll have to be patient," she said while giving him a look that promised consequences should he not follow through.
"Of course, there are some things that need to be shared in confidence. How about a ride in the godswood after we make our appearance? Ned can act as our escort, and I will answer any other questions you have." Robert suggested. Lyanna smiled and agreed.
Once they were finally in the tent, Robert saw that his family, friends, and a score or more of his bannermen had gathered for an impromptu celebration. A small cheer went up as he entered the tent. He may not have clinched the ultimate victory, but his performance was still impressive. He acknowledged the greeting and prepared to share the king's decision.
"Thank you all for being here to celebrate the end of the tourney with me, even if it did not end exactly the way we would have wanted it to. If you haven't heard already, the king summoned me immediately after the end of the ceremony, and to cut right to it, he has appointed me as Hand of the King. He demands that I return to King's Landing with him tomorrow morning."
The response from the gathered lords and ladies was about what he expected. He saw their shock morph into a hail of cheers and congratulations. His banners were more than happy to have their liege taking up such a prestigious position, as it would no doubt open doors for them. Robert made eye contact with Ned and could immediately sense the tension in his foster brother's posture. Robert gave him a small nod of acknowledgment before he held up a hand to call for silence once again. He turned to Stannis, who had once again donned a stony mask. If it were not for the moons he had spent working closely with his brother, he might have taken it for anger or jealousy, but now he could tell it was worry hiding beneath the mask.
"Since I will not be staying here until the end of the tourney, I leave the household here in your capable hands, Stannis. Furthermore, I am entrusting our home to you while I am away. You are a grown and capable man now and will rule our kingdom in my stead," Robert said, nodding to his not-so-visibly surprised younger brother. Delena beamed as she squeezed Stannis' hand in support. Robert continued.
"Your first task will be to gather a proper household to join me in King's Landing. I would rather not be left alone for long in that foul city."
"I'll see it done," Stannis replied dutifully.
"Pardon me, my lord," Robert heard Ser Penrose speak up. "But you will not be alone. It will be my honor to act as your shield while you serve in the Red Keep."
Moments after the declaration, there was a small rush of knights offering to act as his guards in the capital. Robert could tell that most only sought the prestige of such an honored position. Fortunately, he had spent enough time with this group of warriors that he was able to pick out a handful of knights he could trust to shield his back should his worst fears come to fruition. In the end, Robert would be accompanied on his journey to King's Landing by seven knights. The number was pure coincidence; it was simply just how many men present he could truly count on. No doubt, some overly zealous septon would see this and retell the tale as some divinely inspired affair. Robert squashed the thought with an internal grimace before once again addressing the crowd.
"Thank you once again for your support. Please enjoy the hospitality of House Baratheon for as long as you wish. Though I must take my leave, as I have promised to accompany my betrothed on a ride," he said as the crowd responded with a few cheers and perhaps some slightly suggestive comments. As expected, Brandon played the part of the concerned brother, demanding that they be accompanied, and Ned was quickly roped in to do so.
The ride to the godswood was blessedly short, as he could tell that Lyanna was nearly shaking with the effort it took to keep her questions at bay. It was not until they dismounted and stood before the grim face of the heart tree that she turned to speak to him. Though she was a maiden of four and ten and nearly a head and a half shorter than he, the intensity of her grey-eyed glare made him feel as if she were towering over him.
"I would like to know everything going on between you and the prince and the king, Robert. If I am to be your wife, I will not be coddled and kept in the dark. And before you speak, remember that we are standing in the presence of the old gods, and they will not tolerate lies." Her tone was firm, though Robert could detect no true anger in her. He took a few deep breaths and thought about where to begin.
"I am not the only one who dreams," He started tentatively. "Prince Rhaegar and I both have seen signs that the long night will soon return, and the others will come to conquer the realms of man."
Lyanna's eyes widened at the revelation, and she seemed to want to interject, but caught herself and bid Robert to continue.
"Unfortunately, we differ in how to address this threat. Rhaegar seems to be convinced that the long night can only be stopped by a promised prince, a prince born of fire and ice, a prince born from House Stark and Targaryen." Robert stopped and let out a deep breath to calm the rising heat of anger in his chest. Lyanna's mouth dropped in surprise at the revelation, but it was Ned who spoke first, disdain for the prince dripped from his words.
"That is why he took Lyanna? He plunged the realm into chaos for the sake of forcing my sister to carry some promised hero?"
"You say that like it already happened, was it not just a dream?" Lyanna said, confusion on her face. Ned schooled his features and remained silent, clearly frustrated by his slip. Robert considered his next words carefully. He wanted to shield her from the terrible truth, but he also wanted to honor her desire to be treated as a partner. How could he trust Ned more than her?
"If it was a dream, then it was the most life-like dream anyone could have. I lived a life of triumph and sorrow and regret. The gods, old and new, have given me a chance to rewrite fate, but it seems as if some things are unavoidable. I told you before that I saw a life where I lost you to Rhaegar, and I'll be damned if I let that happen again." He could not help but let his anger bleed through into his words.
"Is that why you are becoming the hand of the king?" Lyanna asked. Robert let out a humorous laugh.
"Yes, and no, it has been in the king's mind since at least the start of the festival. He seems convinced that I can check his son's traitorous ambitions. However, when Rhaegar and I spoke, I used my potential position as the Hand of the King to force him to agree to leave you alone. I am not nearly as excited about that appointment as I made it sound in front of my banners." Robert said, his shoulders slumping in defeat.
"So, what do we do now?" Lyanna asked softly, clearly still processing everything that had been said.
"First and foremost, we get you back to the North as soon as we can. Even Rhaegar would not dare to approach you in your father's hall." Robert replied gruffly.
"I agree, but with everything happening, Brandon insisted that I accompany him to Riverrun. He's going there so he can learn to appreciate his betrothed's culture," Lyanna said, the last few words imitating her father's stern baritone.
Robert let out an amused huff at the idea of Brandon ever appreciating something southern.
"Well, I will not dismiss the idea of Rhaegar trying something under the nose of Lord Tully, but he is still a Lord Paramount. You should be safe there, but I would prefer if you would not tarry long. In that other life, you disappeared with the prince while on the road. Have you told anyone outside of your house of the change in plans?" Robert asked, hoping to allay some of his growing concern.
"No, we haven't, and I'm sure I can convince Brandon to find an excuse to leave River Run early," Lyanna replied with a comforting grin. Robert returned it.
"Hopefully, once you are out of the prince's grasp, he will have time to think through this madness. I will do what I can from King's Landing," Robert paused and let out a heavy sigh. "Not that I know what else I can do, other than weather the king's madness and try and curtail the worst of it."
"I will ask the old gods to give you strength, and perhaps even light some candles for you while I am in Riverrun," Lyanna said, gently placing a hand on Robert's arm.
"I will ask my father if I can join you in King's Landing," Eddard said in a tone that told Robert that he was not taking no for an answer. "It may be some time, but I cannot stand idly by while you are in the depths of that cesspit of a city."
Robert was touched, truly so. He felt as if just a small portion of the burden placed upon him would be lifted in time. He could not have asked for a better friend in Ned, and as with all true friends, moments such as these cannot go on without some amount of teasing.
"Your desire to come south has nothing to do with being closer to a certain dornish lady?" Robert teased. Lyanna giggled, and Eddard took it in stride.
"Well, there might as well be some benefit for me," Eddard responded in a matter-of-fact tone. They all laughed, and for a brief moment, Robert could let himself forget the looming storm on the horizon. Perhaps with his brother in all but blood at his side, he could weather the king's madness. Perhaps it wasn't going to be as bad as he imagined.