The Unyielding Stag (Game of Thrones AU/Invincible)
Chapter 32: Lord Stark

A/N: Ned Stark POV!

-x-X-x-

Nothing good ever came from Starks traveling South. That was an axiom that Ned Stark, Lord of Winterfell, had lived by for over twenty years now. His brother had gone South and been thrown in the Black Cells for it. His father had gone South and been killed along with his brother. His sister had died from childbirth in a lonely tower in Dorne.

The only Starks to survive the Mad King's Reign and Robert's Rebellion were Ned and Benjen. And of the two of them, Ned was the only one to go South and return to tell the tale. But even he couldn't say he'd escaped unscathed.

Between the sight of Elia Martell's dead children and Lyanna lying in a pool of her own blood on the birthing bed, Ned had more than enough fuel for his nightmares over the years.

And yet, here he was all the same, once again in King's Landing. Duty trumped superstition at the end of the day, and as Lord Paramount of the North, it was his duty to answer the call to his King when it came, no matter who that King was.

That didn't make him any less relieved that everything had ended so cleanly though. The combined armies of the North, Riverlands, and Vale had just made it past Darry when the letter speaking of the Trial by the Seven and Axel Baratheon's victory over Renly had reached them.

Just like that, the war was over. Perhaps others were upset by this… Ned knew that Edmure, for instance, as the youngest Lord Paramount, had thought to make something of himself in the coming war. Him and dozens of other young fools besides, all itching for bloodshed and glory.

But Ned was too old for that kind of thing. Ultimately, he was just grateful that it had all ended without costing too many men their lives. In the end, the total casualties of Renly's war had come out to but a handful of men, with even Renly himself being allowed to take the Black rather than having his head chopped off.

Once they knew that their full armies were no longer needed, sending most of the men home had been prudent, of course. Ned had ridden on though with Lord Edmure at his side as well as their vassal lords and a few hundred knights apiece.

They'd certainly made quicker time to King's Landing without so many people bogging them down. From there Ned had finally had the opportunity to both lay eyes on his new King for the first time as well as swear his oaths of fealty to the crown in person.

Axel Baratheon reminded him a lot of what Robert had been like when they were younger. Well over six feet tall, the young King cut an imposing figure just like his father had, and to hear it told, he'd been quite the dashing warrior during the Trial by the Seven as well.

They were saying that Axel was blessed by the Seven themselves, that he could not lose because they would not allow it. The most fanciful rumors even claimed that Axel was an Avatar of the Seven. They said that he had singlehandedly slew the multitude of knights that represented Renly's first attempt on his life on the Kingsroad. Furthermore, they claimed that he'd survived what should have been a lethal blow by the Knight of Flowers during the Trial, only to win it all.

As a follower of the Old Gods, Ned found himself skeptical of all these claims… but he couldn't deny that Axel was a strong, handsome looking lad. Which was precisely why he wished he could have gotten out of King's Landing and headed back North before Jon was able to corner him for this meeting.

Alas… even after all this time, the Lord of the Eyrie knew Ned too well. And so the North's Lord Paramount finds himself sitting in Jon's office within the Tower of the Hand, waiting for the other man to get on with it.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me Ned. Especially since I'm sure you know what I'm going to ask of you."

Sighing, Ned shakes his head.

"I wasn't about to spurn you, Jon. But I doubt you'll like my answer. Still… ask."

The Lord Hand sighs back, gathering himself up for a moment. Funny, Ned feels older with every passing year… but that makes Jon Arryn positively ancient by comparison. It's obvious that the years as Robert's Hand have not been entirely kind to the man, though at least he hasn't had to survive the hard living of the North at the same time.

"… The King needs a Queen, Ned."

Of course he did. He was a young King, barely enthroned. He had no wife and no heirs. Until there was a Queen and until she'd popped out at least one son, the Realm was not secure. And that left everyone on edge.

Especially given what had happened with Robert and his boys. The line of succession had been secure one moment and completely upturned the next. Then things had devolved from there thanks to Renly's greed. While it was a little better now that Renly was going to the Wall and Stannis was the clear successor, it was still far from ideal. Just like it had been back in the day when Robert was newly made King and Stannis was HIS heir.

That said...

"There are plenty of prospects for the King to marry without turning your eyes northward to Winterfell, Jon."

The Hand grimaces and shakes his head.

"I'm afraid that's not quite true. Axel is unwilling to marry any woman too much younger than him. His exact words were that he doesn't want some girl maiden who's barely flowered. Given that he is the King and his Queen needs to have a certain… pedigree, that lowers the amount of options considerably."

It would, yes. On the one hand, Ned can honestly respect and even appreciate Axel setting such a criteria. It's always bothered him how quickly they married off young maidens for all that it was tradition. In a way, he and Catelyn had worked out as well as they had precisely because they were of an age with one another… and that was only because Brandon was Catelyn's initial intended.

But the amount of stories Ned had heard of exceedingly young women dying in childbirth had left him leery of the practice of marrying off his daughters too early. And that had been one of the many excuses he'd used when Robert had first come knocking years and years ago.

The King, his old friend, had never come all the way to Winterfell himself of course. Thankfully. But the letters had started when both Sansa and Joffrey were still rather young. Letters hinting at the possibility of a betrothal between their children, to marry their houses together.

Robert wanted Ned to send his daughter South, to be wife to his heir and one day Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. And Ned had balked. He'd balked hard.

It wasn't just because of Sansa's age though. Nor was it his superstitious fear of what might happen to any Stark who ventured South. The truth was, Ned actually had given Robert's proposal due consideration when it first arrived. And then he'd sought independent clarification on some things.

Not from the man sitting across from him now, even if that might have been the obvious choice. No, as Robert's Hand, Ned hadn't known if he could trust Jon to be particularly… impartial. Instead, Catelyn had suggested that she could write to both her sister and Lord Petyr Baelish, an old friend of hers that had become Master of Coin on Robert's Small Council.

Through them, he and Catelyn had figured they would get an unvarnished version of things. And what they'd been told by Lysa and Petyr… well, it had certainly turned Ned off to the idea. Purportedly, Robert had become a fat, drunken whoremonger. Meanwhile, his eldest son Joffrey, the very same young man who he wanted Sansa to marry, was apparently a cruel, vain, sadistic creature who terrorized both the Red Keep's serving staff and his own siblings.

When Ned had put these accusations in a letter to Jon and directly asked him if they were true, the Hand of the King had done his best to equivocate in his response… but he hadn't been able to properly deny even a single one of the claims.

That was when Ned decided that Sansa and Joffrey would never marry, no matter how badly Robert wanted it to happen. Not unless Robert came all the way to Winterfell and made it a direct order from his King anyways.

Unfortunately, by the same token Ned had not been able to marry Sansa off to any of his vassals either, because doing so would be seen as an insult to the Crown when negotiations for her hand in marriage were still 'ongoing'.

But now… now Robert was gone. So was Joffrey. Ned had thought that maybe Sansa was in the clear now and had already begun putting together a shortlist of candidates to offer her hand to… but alas, it seemed he'd been much too optimistic, in the end.

"Even so Jon, Starks do not do well in the South. Sansa belongs in the North. I can't just betroth her at random when all I'm supposed to be here for is bending the knee."

Far from looking disappointed, Jon actually brightens up a bit, the older man leaning forward and steepling weathered fingers together.

"Ah, but that's just it Ned. Our new King… he was raised as a bastard. He's still learning a lot about what it means to be King… and more than that, he's still developing his own interpretations as well. He doesn't just want a woman of age with him; he wants a woman who wants him back."

Ned furrows his brow in confusion, not quite sure what Jon means. Fortunately, he elaborates.

"We're not asking you for a betrothal right this moment… we're just asking you to send for her. Have her come South to King's Landing, just for a visit. Stay the entire time she's here if you want to make sure she's happy and safe. Let her and Axel meet, let them see for themselves if they get along or not. That's all the King is asking for, Ned."

… How utterly strange. For someone who has been raised as a noble his whole life, and who has quite literally put his own love before duty… Ned would be lying if he said the idea didn't appeal to him in a way. Even if it sounded like a fantasy rather than anything couched in reality.

But then, that was part of being King of the Seven Kingdoms, wasn't it? You sometimes turned fantasy into reality if you wanted to. Still, Ned had a problem… because he knew full well that even if he didn't believe she should go South, neither Sansa nor her mother would actually agree with him.

Sansa was as much a Tully as she was a Stark, and she hewed more towards the Seven than she did the Old Gods. She would leap at the chance to come South and potentially become Axel's Queen. And with Robert and Joffrey both out of the picture, Catelyn would leap at it too.

He hesitates… and Jon senses weakness.

"Please Ned. You'd be doing me a favor if nothing else. The only other reasonable choice on all of Westeros given Axel's conditions would be Princess Arianne Martell of Dorne. I've already sent the letter to Sunspear, but you and I both know that Prince Doran is unlikely to even read it, let alone give it the time of day."

… Yes, Dorne was still quite angry over what had happened to poor Elia and her children. Frankly, they had every right to be. And while much of that anger was directed at House Lannister, no small amount was also directed towards House Baratheon for not doing anything about it after the fact.

"If you turn me down here and we get no response from Dorne… then our options get rather thin. There's Margaery Tyrell, and while I'd like to think Axel would never go for her, she's very beautiful and very present in the Red Keep… I don't have to tell you how little I want him to marry that woman, even if she and Renly never actually consummated their marriage."

Ned winces. No, that would… not be good.

"Aside from her, the only other options would be Asha Greyjoy or searching over in Essos. And while the Targaryens would sometimes seek out a bride with Valyrian Blood from Volantis or one of the other Free Cities, I would prefer not to resort to that so early in House Baratheon's dynasty. Not when such things often come with ties to slavery."

Fuck. Jon was wearing him down and he probably knew it too. Ned finds himself feeling like he's twenty again as the Lord Hand lays it all out for him. Jon always knew how to handle both him and Robert, just as he knew that each of them needed to be handled in very different ways.

With Robert, it was about give and take. You had to reward him when he did well and punish him when he did wrong. He didn't respond to conversation, only action and reaction. But Ned… Jon had always known he could simply talk to Ned, explaining things to him and laying out the facts.

Even from a young age, Ned had been willing to listen when the Lord of the Eyrie told him what needed to happen and why it needed to happen. And because they were very similar men at the end of the day, he often found himself agreeing with Jon by the time they were done talking.

… Like now. Once again, his sense of duty is beating out superstition. The Realm needs stability. And if Sansa might be the viable option that didn't result in calamity, then Ned owed it to his vows of fealty to try and make it happen. Besides…

"Can you promise me that she'll have a choice, Jon? If they aren't compatible, she'll be allowed to say no? That's what you're offering, right?"

Jon looks relieved even as he nods.

"Yes. Axel is a good man Ned, and he'll make an excellent King now that this mess with Renly is over and done with. He's all of Robert's strength and none of his flaws."

Ned raises an eyebrow at that, before letting out a rare derisive snort.

"… No need to lay it on too thick now, Jon. I'll send for Sansa. And admittedly, I probably won't stay in King's Landing. Instead, knowing Catelyn, it'll be the two of them who come down here so that Sansa and Axel can meet. But I'll hold you to your promise all the same. It'll be her choice."

Jon places a hand on his chest and nods again, this time more sharply.

"On my honor, I swear it."

With that, Ned lets himself relax a little bit even if he highly doubts Sansa will choose anything but becoming Axel's Queen, given half the chance. At least there was always the possibility that Axel himself wouldn't find Sansa to be his type. She might be older than most maidens by this point, but she was still rather sheltered after all.

Only time would tell, in the end…

-x-X-x-

A/N: Got ourselves our first prospective bride lined up~

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