A Vow Without Honor

The Rose

Ned

Had he known how much trouble being Hand of the King would become before he even reached King's Landing, he would have stayed in the North.

He found himself storming into the local keep the caravan had taken refuge in for the last few days, his daughter Myra and Jory in tow. For four days, they had searched the nearby forests relentlessly, looking for Arya after an apparent incident with the young prince, Joffrey. The boy had apparently been bitten by her direwolf, but he had heard no more on it, and Sansa was not about to speak of it.

Now his youngest girl had finally been found...and immediately sent before the Queen, who had in turn brought her before Robert, all before informing him. It made his blood boil, his daughter being treated as some criminal. Despite whatever may have transpired at the river, she was the daughter of a lord and deserved better treatment than this.

"Father, what could the Queen possibly want with Arya?" Myra asked as they approached the door to the keep's great hall. Even from outside, he could hear the drone of men whispering gossip and feel the likelihood of a bad ending. "She can't mean to make an example of her. She's a child."

That's precisely what she means to do.

He would never say it aloud, even the thought felt treasonous, but he did not have to. Myra was adept at reading most anyone, him included. He could see the revelation dawn on her face, her skin paling slightly as she glanced over at Jory. The captain of the guard shook his head, his eyes dark.

They entered the room and all fell silent, guards, both Stark and Lannister alike, watching their every move. At the center of the gathering, Robert sat in the lord's seat, Cersei and Joffrey standing beside him, and in front of him, a small, shaking form in the shape of his daughter. She bolted for him, mumbling sorries over and over as they embraced one another. He passed her off to Myra, who took Arya by the shoulders and held her close.

"What is the meaning of this? Why was my daughter not brought to me at once?"

Robert had the decency to look somewhat ashamed, at least as far as his pride would let him go, but Cersei only held the statement in contempt.

"How dare you speak to your King in that manner."

"Quiet woman!" Despite the situation, Ned felt a muscle in his jaw twitch at the way his friend addressed his wife. "Sorry, Ned, I never meant to frighten the girl, but we need to get this business done quickly."

"Your girl and that butcher's boy attack my son," the Queen continued, her eyes boring holes into Arya. "That animal of hers nearly tore his arm off."

Given the state of the bandages on Joffrey, Ned doubted that very much, but he said nothing. Surely Robert would have noticed.

"That's not true!" Arya countered, stepping forward despite Myra's grip on her. "She just bit him a little. He was hurting Micah."

Others take him, his daughter was not helping.

"Joff told us what happened. You and that boy beat him with clubs while you set your wolf on him."

"That's not what happened!"

Joffrey stepped forward. "Yes it is. They all attacked me and she threw my sword in the river."

"Liar!"

"Shut up!"

"Enough!" Robert shouted, slamming his fist on the arm of the chair. Myra quickly gathered Arya back up, whispering something in her ear. "He tells me one thing. She tells me another. Seven hells, what am I to make of this? Where's your other daughter, Ned?"