Chapter Text
A few days later, I received word that Ned wanted to see me in the Hand’s office as soon as possible. I made my way through the castle, bumping into Sandor on my way.
“Hey, do you know if your brother is planning to participate in the tourney in a few weeks?”
“Aye, he probably will, Lady Cassandra. He loves any chance to hurt someone and get paid while doing it.”
“Drinking buddies?” I offered. Sandor grinned down at me.
“You always know how to keep a dog happy,” he said, continuing on his way, presumably to find Joffrey.
Whenever his brother was in town, he would be on edge and even more… Sandor. It got to the point once that Robert wanted him killed just for the “extra fucking ugly look on his face”.
When Robert had said that to me, I took Sandor that same evening and got him so shitfaced that he didn’t even remember his brother was around. He became much more pleasant the drunker he got, I found. I also found out that we got along very well. It never felt like a chore- in fact, I used it as a time to get away from my own problems. It became a tradition of ours almost every tourney, whenever Gregor was present.
When I finally made it to Ned’s meeting chamber, I saw Jory was posted outside. He gave me a soft smile as I walked up. Jory had become one of my favorite people on Ned’s staff. He appeared loyal, smart, and courageous from what I’ve heard others say. I had to admit that I was envious that Ned had someone like Jory to rely on. The Baratheon guards and staff were loyal to Robert and then to Renly. They would protect me and do whatever I ask, especially as the Lady of Storm’s End, but they would never put me before my brothers. I often found myself wishing I had someone that had the same unwavering loyalty for me as Jordy did for Ned.
“Good afternoon, Lady Baratheon. You can go right in; I know he won’t mind.”
“Thank you, Jory,” I said patting his shoulder as I passed. I opened the door and stepped inside, leaving it open just a tad behind me.
Ned was so lost in whatever he was looking at that he didn’t even notice me. I was in no hurry, so I took the time to study him. He was so out of place here in the South. Everything down to his hair style screamed that he was a Northern man. Yet here he was, in the Southern capital, doing his duty as the King’s Hand.
“You look tired, Lord Stark,” I spoke, finally bringing his attention to me. His eyes met mine and his perplexed gaze softened at the sight of me.
“Cassandra, thank you for coming on such short notice. Jory, close the door please.”
I glanced back as the movement of the door caught my eye. Once it was firmly shut, I turned my gaze back to Ned. He gestured to come around to where he was standing.
“I have something I need to discuss with you,” he spoke in a hushed tone. “But first I wanted to apologize for the other night. You were trying to be a good friend and I dismissed you like it meant nothing. I truly am sorry, Andra. You didn’t deserve that. I am thankful to have someone I know I can trust here in the capital.”
“Thank you, Ned. Now, what’s going on?”
“I spoke to Maester Pycelle after the small council meeting the other day. I was asking him about Jon Arryn’s death and he said Jon came to him the night before he died and asked for this book.”
I furrowed my brow, taking a look at the tome Ned saw gesturing to.
“Jon Arryn? Why are you asking about him?”
“The night of the feast in Winterfell, Catelyn received word from her sister that Arryn was poisoned by the Lannisters.” Ned’s voice was so low that I almost couldn’t hear the words.
My head whipped up to look at him.
“Ned, Lysa is…unwell. I would not take her word as truth.”
“I didn’t, at first. But when Cat brought me Tyrion’s blade-“
“Eddard Stark, listen to me,” I said seriously. I’ve only used Ned’s whole name a handful of times in our lives, so he knows that when I say it, I mean the words that follow. “Tyrion Lannister is no killer. I know him better than anyone else in the realms. He did not commit the crime your wife accuses him of. You claim that you trust me, so trust me on this matter.”
Ned paused, looking at me.
“Catelyn feels that-“
“Catelyn can feel all she wants, Ned. I know.”
“How, Andra? How could you know a Lannister so well?”
“Because he and I are the same. We think the same, we speak the same, we act the same. He is not foolish enough to equip an assassin with his own fucking dagger. Besides, how do you even know it’s Tyrion’s?”
“Baelish told Cat he lost it to him when the Knight of Flowers beat Jaime Lannister during one of Joffrey’s name day tourneys.”
“Look at me, Ned.” When Ned’s eyes once again met mine, I put a hand on the collar of his vest, grabbed the leather, and tugged slightly. “Is there any life in which you would actually believe that Tyrion Lannister bet against his brother?”
Ned’s gaze dropped. He sighed, bringing his hands up to rub his face.
“No, of course not.”
“Then it wasn’t him, Ned.” I turned around, leaning my arse against the desk. Ned leaned forward, placing both hands on the desk in front of him. I threw my hands up in a small surrender. “As for Jon Arryn, I can’t see why anyone would try to poison him. I wasn’t the biggest fan on the Warden of the East, but he’s always been well liked by others.”
“I think he was on to something,” Ned said. “Do you know of any children of Robert’s other than Cersei’s?”
I bit my lip and closed my eyes. I brought my fingers up and pinched the bridge of my nose. Someone was going to find out sooner or later, at least it was someone I could trust. I took a deep sighed before nodding.
“Of course, I do. The man fucks anything with tits, Ned. Any time another bastard pops up, I pay the mothers to disappear with Baratheon coin, not the Crown’s purse.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because he is my brother, Ned. He’s given me Storm’s End, the least I can do is take care of his children.”
“Take care of? You think getting rid of them is taking care of them?”
“I think that setting their mothers up with enough coin to start their life anew is the best way I can take care of them. There was one that I couldn’t get out of the city. His mother died and he never knew who his father was. I met him once on the streets. He looked just like Robert. When I did some digging, I knew he had to be a bastard nephew of mine.”
“The one at the armorers? Gendry?”
“Aye, that’s his name. You’ve met him?”
Ned nodded. “Jory and I went together.”
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you about Jory,” I said, taking the opportunity to turn the topic away from Robert’s bastards. Ned gave me a quizzical look. “Do you trust him? He seems like a good man.”
“He’s my best.”
“Perfect. I’m going to do everything I can to get him on my staff. I don’t have enough trustworthy men.”
I gave Ned a wink and his face broke out into a grin.
“You’re welcome to try. He would never leave the North for any amount of coin. Maybe if you promised him a kiss or two.”
“You think that’ll convince him?”
Ned moved his arms, grabbing my waist and pulling me so that I was trapped in between him and the desk. It was then that my heart threw all logic and what little care about propriety I had out the window. Having Ned hovering over me like this was enough to make me act like a fool. He was just tall enough that I had to look up at him, even if he was leaning down towards me.
“Cassandra, any man could be tempted by a kiss from you,” he said, holding me in place. “Even my most loyal.”
“And you, Lord Stark,” I asked, tilting my face towards him. “Are you any man?”
Ned’s gaze dropped to my lips. For a second, I thought he was going to give in. He started leaning down towards me, his movement so minute that I could have imagined it. I closed my eyes, feeling his nose brush against mine. I could feel my heartbeat begin to speed up, excitement rushing through my veins.
That all ended abruptly when there was a knock at the door and Jory pushed it open enough to stick his head in. Both of our heads whipped up to look at the man. However, Ned kept me firmly in place by my waist. The Northerner’s eyes widened in shock, but he was quick to clear his throat.
“Sorry, my lord,” Jory began, his eyes trying to look anywhere but at us. “I- uh- I received word that Lord Baelish would like to meet you for a walk around the grounds, Lord Stark.”
“Gods, that man has awful timing,” Ned grumbled, closing his eyes in frustration.
“That must be my sign to go,” I said, smiling back at Ned. “I’m sure I’ll see you soon, Lord Stark.”
“Not soon enough for my liking, I assure you,” Ned muttered, finally releasing me.
As I passed Jory, I heard Ned’s voice.
“I’m sure I don’t need to warn you about what would happen if you ever spoke a word of this?”
“I’m not sure what you’re referring to, Lord Stark. I walked in to find you and Lady Baratheon looking at the book on your desk.”
Yes, I would have to find someone like Jory for my own staff.