Hour of the Red Wolf

Description:

It was Brandon Stark that was fostered at the Eyrie with Robert; whist his younger brother, Eddard, was fostered at Casterly Rock. With a more cunning, more ambitious Eddard Stark finding out that his beloved sister had borne the Heir to the Iron Throne would he truly allow Robert to keep it? Would he truly hide his identity with the wealth and armies of the Westerlands beside him?

OR

In which a more cunning, more ambitious Eddard Stark who had been fostered in Casterly Rock takes the throne as regent in name of his infant nephew: Prince Aegon Targaryen with the backing of the Westerlands; and brings upon Westeros the Hour of the Red Wolf.

A/N the first chapter will focus on the first days of Eddard's fostering at Casterly Rock, before skipping to the Tourney of Harrenhal

Begins in 271 AC, meaning it is summer (though winter is coming) and that Tyrion is not yet born, thus Lady Joanna is still alive, and the twins have already been born.

Chapter 1 – the Wolf

Eddard Stark was tired.

He had been upon the Kingsroad travelling to the Westerlands – more specifically Casterly Rock – for over a fortnight, with little rest.

It would take just under a month, he knew, to get to the Rock as his lord father had once told him that to get to King's Landing whilst riding at a slow carriage's pace would take a month, as recorded by Cregan Stark. And while they were riding at a reasonable pace, the Rock was further than even King's Landing. Meanwhile, Brandon's journey to the Eyrie would be half of Eddard's, in fact, Brandon might even be there already.

The thought made Eddard frown. Initially, he was meant to be heading to the Eyrie, to be fostered by Lord Jon Arryn, Lord of the Vale and Warden of the East alongside Robert Baratheon, the Heir to Storm's End and Brandon was meant to be fostered by a Northern Vassal: Lord Dustin, who would now – instead – eventually foster Benjen when he was old enough.

In truth, the second son of Lord Rickard Stark and Lady Lyarra Stark had fretted over it, as he had never been good at making friends, far more reserved than his brothers, and even his sister. His father had jested that Brandon and Lyanna had so much wolf's blood in them that there had been none left for Eddard.

He was even called the Quiet Wolf in the North.

Looking back, he could remembering praying to the Old Gods to not make him leave his home. He wanted to stay in the North, his home, with the harsh summer snows – Winter Is Coming his father had told him, the fierce dropping in temperature informing them that it would be upon them in months – and the merry laughter of his little sister and his younger infant brother.

Now he wished he had done no such thing. As instead of going to the Eyrie, to be fostered with a Lord with a good, fair reputation he was now going to the Rock, to be fostered with a Lord with a reputation for cunning and deceit.

The boy of eight – who even at such a tender age, was known by many as an honourable boy – often wondered if the Old Gods were punishing him for his ungrateful attitude towards Lord Arryn's offer.

When he had questioned his father after he had been told that instead of being fostered at the Eyrie he was now going to be fostered at the Rock – especially as Lord Rickard Stark had no love for Tywin Lannister's dishonour and brutality (like at Castamere) – his lord father had told him, "Lord Tywin is a cruel, dishonourable and deceitful; but make no mistake, the man is far more intelligent than many a man could claim to be, his is cunning and resourceful. From him, you will learn not only how to be a Lord, but also how not to be a Lord."

When Ned had protested, after all, he would never be Lord of Winterfell, his father had continued: "no, you may not be my Heir but second sons can make a name for themselves too, just look at Aemon the Dragonknight. And regardless, if Brandon were to pass – the Old Gods forbid – then you would need to know how to take up the shoes of a Lord. I see potential in you, Ned, don't let me down."

Young Eddard Stark desperately wanted to prove himself to his father, and was determined not to let him down, and so, after that talk, Ned never complained once more about going to Casterly Rock.

Well, out loud anyway.

They had already passed the Twins, to where Lord Walder Frey had eagerly introduced many of his daughters and granddaughters to Eddard, and, when Eddard kindly complimented all of them as 'lovely' – even if he did not really think so – he had offered to marry Eddard to one of his matured daughters on the spot!

Luckily, Horace Snow – the bastard brother of Greatjon Umber and a Stark household guard – informed the elderly Lord Frey that Rickard Stark would prefer to be informed of his son getting married, and would have to approve it.

And so the older man had scowled and Eddard had been relieved to be on his way the next day, especially with the smiles that lady Walda Frey was sending his way.

After that, they had been passing through the Riverlands. Past Seagard, and Oldstones – nearby which they had stayed in an Inn, one that overlooked the castle ruins, in fact, which was once run by House Mudd – and then on past Fairmarket.

Today, they were riding onto Riverrun to where they would stay the night as guests to Lord Hoster Tully before continuing onto the river road that led to Lannisport.

On their many days passing through the Riverlands, Eddard had seen rich forests, emerald plains, rolling hills (the sight of the Mountains of the Moon that belonged to the Vale of Arryn could be seen, on a clear day, to the very far East) and river upon river, true to it's name. Eddard could not help but notice how completely different this was to the endless white of the snow of the North and the frozen lakes; and wondered if the Westerlands would be just as different.

It made him wonder if Lady Catelyn Tully, who was betrothed to Brandon, would ever be happy in the North. If she liked the warmth and the nature of the Riverlands then he supposed not.

"There is Riverrun, Lord Eddard," Horace Snow informed him, pointing to a castle that sat at the confluence of two rivers, "soon, you shall be able to rest."

"I'm not tired," the young boy objected.

The baseborn brother of Lord Umber gave him a look of disbelief but did not say anything, only looking forward towards the castle. It was much more colourful that Winterfell, he mused as they came closer, though not as large.

It was a three-sided castle, bordered on the North by Tumblestone, on the South by Red Fork and on the West there was a massive man-made ditch, which made the castle an effective defence system, Eddard noted. He also remembered that his Maester had told him of how sluice gates could be opened in order to fill the large ditch with water, which would turn Riverrun into an island, a castle surrounded by water at all times.

Eddard had thought it was a brilliant idea when Maester Luwin told him and Brandon – who, in opposition, wasn't at all very interested – about it. It was a shame that it couldn't work in the North, as the water would most likely freeze over.

Once, Eddard had suggested that it could work, as even if the water froze over if enough people – an army – was trying to pass then surely it would break and send them all into the freezing water.

"Only in summer," the old Maester had told him, as in winter the ice would be far too frozen to give way at all.

When they finally reached the castle, the entirety of the Riverrun household was there to greet them. At eight, Eddard had not seen much of the world outside the North, to which near every man, woman and child had dark hair and, normally, grey eyes. So when he caught sight of the auburn hair of the young Tully siblings and their mother – Lady Minisa Whent – he was surprised, and stared at it for a while, before blushing in embarrassment realising how rude he must be being eyeballing their hair.

He got off of his horse – Honour, he had named the dark stallion – and swiftly moved to greet Lord Hoster, "I thank you for your hospitality, my lord, as does my lord father."

Hoster, a proud man, nodded to the boy and returned his greetings cordially before Eddard moved on to kiss Lady Minisa's hand – as taught by his father – and then did the same with Lady Catelyn and Lady Lysa, and greeting a young boy last.

He knew that Lord Hoster's Heir: Lord Edmure, was but a month old and still in the nursery so that could only make the short, dark haired boy the Lord of Riverrun's ward: Petyr Baelish.

He soon headed inside, more than relieved when he was shown to his chambers, and deciding that he had more than enough time for a midday nap before dinner.

TRW-TRW-TRW

It was not long that they stayed at Riverrun, just a two day stay where they collected more resources from the nearby towns, collected their bearings and rested.

During that time, Eddard had been told to spend time with Catelyn, Lysa and Petyr.

It had been awkward.

He had been asked question after question after question by the Lady Catelyn about Brandon, who seemed entranced with the idea of being a Lady and marrying the Wild Wolf, as they called Brandon in the North.

Lady Catelyn had her mother's auburn hair and the Tully blue eyes, with fair skin and high cheekbones. Eddard thought that she was very pretty, even if she did look very strange compared to other girls in the North, like Lyanna with her dark hair and grey eyes.

She had seemed nice too, until Horace had introduced himself and she had stuck her nose up at him and informed him that she did not speak to bastards.

Eddard had been most affronted. After all, his own father had taught him to treat everybody – baseborn and trueborn – with respect, as no matter their conception everybody was a person. And Horace happened to be a very kind person.

In a moment of anger, which he later apologised for, realising that it was most dishonourable to speak to a lady in such a way, he had shouted, "well you best get used to it Brandon will not be faithful!"

While he apologised, he could not lie and say that it was not the truth.

Having her surprised and hurt expression ingrained in his memory he was happy to be leaving Riverrun, especially as Petyr Baelish struck him as rather… odd. Of course, Ned never told him such a thing and treated him no differently; and had noted how Lysa, at the young age of five, looked up at him like he was the stars and the moon.

And so, with no regret of leaving, Eddard's party swiftly continued on west via the river road, heading straight to Lannisport from where they would continue on to Casterly Rock.

TRW-TRW-TRW

While Eddard found that the Westerlands' hills were more rugged than those of the Riverlands', there was not much of a change of scenery between the two. Still, there were rivers and lakes and forests and plains, alongside caves and caverns of which were harder to spot.

Lannisport was a massive port city enclosed in walls, and less than a mile south of Eddard's final destination: Casterly Rock. It was the largest settlement in the Westerlands, Eddard knew from his lessons, and larger than the North's port: White Harbour; created by the Lannisters of Lannisport, a minor branch from the main bloodline.

They did not linger for long, merely passing through, switching from the river road onto the gold road that led all the way to Casterly Rock, which Eddard could already see in the not so far distance.

Casterly Rock was carved out of a colossal hill by the Sunset Sea, it had walls and gates and watchtowers, and was three times the height of the Wall. Eddard's grey eyes could not help but watch it in awe as they approached, having never seen something so huge.

He had heard rumours that, at sunset, it resembled a lion. And he truly hoped that it did, it would be a wondrous sight to see.

The entrance, as Horace pointed out, was called The Lion's Mouth and was a cavern reaching two hundred feet high. It was grand beyond anything Eddard had seen before, but then, the lion was a prideful animal and it did not surprise him that they had chosen such a home.

Well, tricked the Casterly's out of such a home. But he would not be discussing that with the said to be formidable Lord Tywin Lannister, who ruled as Hand of the King from the Rock.

The closer they got, the more nervous fidgeting Ned emitted. He knew that Lord Tywin had a wife – Lady Joanna – and that together they had six year old twins: Jaime and Cersei.

He was worried that he would not get along with them. He did not have any friends back in Winterfell, or any friends that were not only being friendly as he was the son of Lord Rickard Stark or because he was the Wild Wolf's brother, so he supposed that the twins would not like him either.

He knew that he was shy, and that he was not overly talkative, or loud. He wasn't wild like Brandon or Lyanna, or a prankster like Lyanna.

But he was honest, thoughtful and kind, as his mother had reminded him when he had gone to her with such worries. She had told him that any child who did not want to be friends with the honourable Ned Stark was awfully stupid.

Keeping his mother's words in mind, he continued on, ignoring the way his throat seized as they travelled through the Lion's Mouth, only to become face to face with the Lannisters at the end of it.

They, he noticed, were even stranger than the Tullys. Though instead of auburn hair and blue eyes, they all had blonde hair and green eyes.

Jaime and Cersei were identical, almost impossible to tell apart if not for Cersei's longer hair, especially as both were remarkably beautiful in appearance.

Jaime happily smiled at the young Eddard, who returned a small, awkward one of his own whereas Cersei studied him calculatingly, making him shift uncomfortably, before offering him a slight smirk of her own.

Lady Joanna Lannister was just as beautiful as her children, with her long, curly golden hair and bright green eyes, she smiled warmly at Eddard, though he did not miss the same calculating gleam in her own eyes as in her daughter Cersei's.

The Lord Tywin let nothing slip through his stony facial expression, observing Eddard, his ever watching green eyes unnerving Eddard as the cold within them was worthy of the North.

"Welcome to Casterly Rock, Lord Eddard Stark."

TRW-TRW-TRW

It had been but four days that Eddard had resided at Casterly Rock. The guards that escorted him had gone back to Winterfell, his lessons had begun with the Maester Creylen and he had finally settled into his bedchambers.

Over the dinner table, Lady Joanna had made polite inquiries as to the welfare of his lord father and lady mother and siblings, Jaime had asked many a questions about the North, what tourneys they had there – to which Eddard had had to let the boy down by informing him that they did not have knights and tourneys in the North like they did in the South – and how they fought.

The yellow haired boy wanted to be a Knight, he had been told.

But, despite that, he had yet to make a proper friend of either Jaime or Cersei and had not even spoke to Lord Tywin again. Eddard frowned, wondering if his time at the Rock would continue to be this lonely, without Lyanna's pranks and Brandon's booming laughs.

They had invited some of the children of the nearby Lords, banner men to the Lannisters, over upon this day, and Eddard was determined to be less shy and do better. After all, Jaime seemed perfectly nice, in fact, when Cersei did not have that calculating or plotting gleam, then he found that she was nice too.

Gregor Clegane, Sandor Clegane, Lira Sarsfield and Aidyen Kenning were some of the children coming over that he had heard Jaime mention, and they had already arrived.

So, wearing his house colour of grey, he headed out into the court yard to meet them. It did not take long to see them, especially with the twins' golden hair acting like beacons.

He walked over to where Jaime was speaking with a girl – Lira, he supposed – and a boy, laughing at a silly joke he had made; soon enough, he noticed Eddard.

"Lira, Aidyen, meet Eddard Stark, he used to live in the North but he's come to be fostered here! He's my father's very first foster!" Jaime spoke very loudly and excitedly, as he often did. It made Ned smile, how enthusiastic the boy was.

Putting on his best smile, he stated, "nice to meet you," and kissed Lira's hand.

Soon enough, however, the conversation continued on and Eddard soon found himself left out when he could not summon the courage to put his own input in. And so his forced smile became an easy, disappointed frown.

"I want to fight!"

"You're a girl!"

"So? I can be just as good as you, I bet you're just afraid. I'm going to be a Knight."

He turned around to watch Cersei arguing with a scarily tall boy, one of the Clegane's he guessed, whilst a shorter – though still big – Clegane watched on silently.

That argument reminded him of the ones that Lyanna would make when she wanted to take part in his and Brandon's swordfighting lessons. Even going as far as to try and dress up as a boy in order to take part within them.

"You can't be a Knight, no girl can be a Knight, stupid," the older boy sneered, and Ned could see from here the tears building up in Cersei Lannister's eyes.

Swiftly, Ned strode over, angry at the boy for shattering the dream of a girl clearly a lot younger than them, further angered as he saw Cersei run off, and the boy laughing.

"Who are you to tell her that she can't be a Knight?" Eddard demanded, scowling at the older boy with the ice of the North in his grey eyes.

The older boy scoffed, and moved to make himself more towering, looking down at Eddard in a way of intimidation, "girls can't be Knights," he spat, "have you seen her? She's too small, I'm far bigger," he looked boastful at his last statement.

"And?" Ned inquired, icily glaring the boy down, "if she's small then that means that she can manoeuvre out the way of your hits more swiftly, and you won't be able to as you're 'too big'."

The boy glowered, before offering his next argument, "she's too weak to hold any large sword."

"She can use smaller swords, lighter ones that would mean that they were easier to swing, and therefore would take less time in between each hit for her, whereas with a large, heavy sword it would take longer between each hit and therefore she could have struck you twice by the time you've raised your sword."

Finally, the elder Clegane brother burst out angrily, "she's a girl!"

"How does ones opposing," Ned blushed bright red before he said the next part, "parts display skill or knowledge?"

Just as the Clegane brother looked ready to strike Ned, they both heard a voice – the voice of Tywin Lannister, who stood there with a small smirk upon his face – from the balcony, "Eddard, come with me."

Ned was certain he was in trouble when he obediently followed Lord Tywin Lannister up to the balcony and then down the many halls to a room that he presumed was the man's study. The Cleganes were guests, and he should not have been so rude to them; especially as he was Lord Tywin's ward now and his ill actions would reflect badly upon him.

But Eddard did not regret it. He was defending Cersei, even though he knew well that women were not – and would probably never be – allowed to be Knights, and that was honourable. And there was nothing wrong with being honourable.

Ned's suspicions were correct, and Lord Tywin led them into his study, gesturing for his young ward to sit in one of the leather seats that looked upon the great mahogany desk and red velvet chair opposite it before Tywin sat upon the other seat himself.

The room was richly decorated, with red tinted windows and a mountain lion rug with portraits of famous Lannisters upon the walls around them, though Ned could only recognise Lann the Clever.

Lord Tywin's green – gold flecked – eyes pierced into Ned's own, and he found himself lowering his head in shame, "you surprised me today, Eddard Stark, pleasantly so."

Ned's head shot up, looking at him in surprise whilst the older man carried on.

"Of course, your argument was not exactly brilliant but it was more than I expected from a boy of your age. A keen mind. You used his own disadvantages against him to reason with him, which he stupidly gave you. You were cunning," Eddard went to object, he was not cunning, but Tywin ignored his attempt, "we both know that, untrained as she is, Cersei would not be able to out manoeuvre his hits. I see potential in you, a lion in you."

"If I may ask, Lord Tywin," Ned began to inquire, inwardly disagreeing with his words, a wolf could not be a lion and he was not cunning, cunningness was dishonourable, "why did you choose me as your ward? You've never had one before."

"You will not be taking lessons alone with Maester Creylen but with Jaime and Cersei as well, I believe that some of their more… unusual lessons may be of use to you," Tywin spoke.

TRW-TRW-TRW-TRW

281 AC (the year of false spring), Harrenhal

It had taken but a week of casual pace for the Lannister Party to reach Harrenhal in the spring of 281AC. Amongst the part was as any as fifty Westermen, all eager to win the grand prizes offered by the host Lord Walter Whent, as well as the five and ten year old twins of Lord Tywin Lannister: Lady Cersei Lannister and Lord Jaime Lannister and Tywin's ward, Lord Eddard Stark.

Lord Tywin himself had remained at Casterly Rock, refusing to come after a recent quarrel with the King. Also left behind was the youngest Lannister sibling: Lord Tyrion Lannister.

While both Eddard and Jaime enjoyed the boy of eight years' company, Cersei did not. Often, she looked down upon him and sent derogatory nicknames the young boy's way. More than once, Ned had scowled at her horrible names and tried to reason with her; but Cersei was prideful and stuck in her ways, and refused to respect 'the beast'.

In all honesty, Ned found that you couldn't help but respect the young boy for how intelligent he already was; what he was lacking in height and attractiveness he made up for in knowledge and intelligence.

Many things that the boy recounted to Ned had him baffled, for he could never remember so many facts nor think of many things in the way that young Tyrion did.

Over the years, Ned had found himself forging a sibling bond with both Jaime and Cersei – in fact, he'd say they saw him more as their sibling than they did each other, yes, while Ned may not have as keen a mind as Tyrion even he could not deny the obvious when it was looking one in the face – and found that while, yes, they did have many faults (especially Cersei) they were family.

And all their faults made up for the kindness, familiarity and love that they gave him.

He had been deeply saddened when Lady Joanna had died, who he had come to see as a mother figure. That was a death that broke both Jaime and Cersei, but also the death that had brought them all closest together.

In fact, many a mornings Lord Tywin's servants had found them all snuggled in bed together, tear tracks down faces from late night reassurances that while Joanna was dead, she wasn't gone.

And Tywin, if Ned may say so himself, seemed to have warmed up to him, bringing him meaningful nameday presents and giving him rare, warm smiles.

And teaching him.

At first, Ned had been most against some of the lessons that he was learning. Ones in cunningness, deceit, of selfish ambition, trickery, blackmail and the list carried on of more and more things that went against young Ned Stark's Northern honour.

But, soon enough, he was faced with the realisation that to be always honest, always honourable, always selfless… That gets you killed. He needed to be smarter. And how would he be able to protect and better his family if he just let others walk all over him?

Nay.

Ned Stark was still honourable and honest to a degree – enough so that Cersei often rolled her eyes at him calling him her 'most beloved fool of a brother' – but he was also as cunning, as intelligent, as ambitious as a Lannister.

Tywin had once called him 'the lion in wolf's clothing', and sometimes, Ned couldn't help but agree.

"Playing Knight, Lyanna? And here I thought that you might have changed over the past three years," Ned stated from where he stood at the entrance to where Lyanna was hastily pulling off a Knight's uniform.

The moment he had seen the slightly unsteady Knight he had known that it was his little sister, with the under average height and slight lack of skill.

But still, she had bested many who opposed her.

The dark haired, grey eyed girl in front of him grinned at him mischeviously as her long fingers swiftly worked at the fastenings of the breastplate, "I had to defend dear Howland's honour, if not I, then who?"

He smiled, a large, warm smile.

No matter how many years he spent with Jaime, Cersei and Tyrion, Lyanna would forever hold a special place in his heart. His favourite sibling, perhaps.

"I hear you've been betrothed to Robert Baratheon, little sister," Ned stated, watching as she tensed and scowled at the name, "how did that happen?"

"You sound like a right Lannister, Ned," Lyanna informed him with a laugh as she finally got the plate off and moved her attention to getting the boots off, "finding out and storing all the information for later use, no doubt. Wanting to know what dirty secrets Robert and Brandon have, what Robert is like."

Ned didn't argue.

Lyanna sighed, before she began, "Robert," he did not miss the disgust in her tone when she said his name, "and Brandon became best of friends at the Eyrie, you don't see one without the other," Ned had in fact noticed this from observing the two at the tourney, "and then Robert came up with the idea that if he married me, then they could be true brothers. Brandon immediately agreed, talked to father, and now I'm meant to be marrying the oaf."

There was such loathing in her tone that it immediately brought suspicion from Ned, as he questioned, "but you care for another?"

She stared at him. Dark grey staring into dark grey before finally admitting, "but I care for another."

"Robert has already got a bastard of his own," Lyanna spat angrily, "and when he saw me, you'll never guess what he said: 'your beauty is as fair as Rhaenyra Targaryen's once was'. All he cares about is my looks. He's in love with the idea of me, Ned, not me!"

Ned brought his sister into a tight hug and could only feel anger towards Brandon for putting her into such a predicament. But then again, if Jaime had not been so set on joining the Kingsguard – with or without his father's blessing – (and so in love with Cersei) would he have not wanted to solidify their brotherhood with Lyanna?

The thought that he could have made such a selfish move for his little sister's future made him feel sick, and he promised himself that he would do whatever it took to look after Lyanna.

After a moment, the two siblings broke apart, and Ned wiped away Lyanna's salty tears, "cheer up, Lya, I hear that the Prince Rhaegar will be singing tonight, we must go and get ready."

And so they did.

TRW-TRW-TRW

"You look better in red than in grey," Cersei Lannister stated as she smirked at Eddard's crimson attire, which would no doubt irk Brandon Stark.

"I think you look better in green," Ned cheekily informed Cersei, considering that her own outfit was a scarlet red, making her scowl at him as she offered him her arm.

He raised a brow, inquiring, "aren't you going into dinner with Jaime?"

"He's too busy fawning over Arthur Dayne to pay me any mind," Cersei informed him, her scowl growing, and growing more when Ned chuckled. Cersei truly hated anybody else but her having any attention at all.

"Well," she demanded, when Ned had yet to begin to make his way towards the great hall of Harrenhal, "are you not going to move, Red Wolf?"

And so Ned and Cersei began their journey, to what they did not know would be the night that started a war. And a night that would result in Ned Stark not being quite as honourable as the North so remembered.

TRW-TRW-TRW

"Gentle Mother, font of mercy,

Save our sons from war, we pray.

Stay the swords and stay the arrows,

Let them know a better day.

Gentle Mother, strength of women,

Help our daughters through this fray.

Soothe the wrath and tame the fury,

Teach us all a kinder way.

Gentle Mother, font of mercy,

Save our sons from war, we pray.

Stay the swords and stay the arrows,

Let them know a better day."

(ASOIAF – sang by Sansa Stark during the Battle of Blackwater)

Prince Rhaegar Targaryen finished upon the last note, his voice was beautiful and otherworldly, and clapping ensued.

Ned heard some muttering of how it was a 'woman's song' but the Prince had performed it perfectly, and Ned was drawn to think that they were only jealous that they did not receive an ovation for skills of theirs (specifically Robert Baratheon).

With much amusement, Ned noted that the song had brought Lyanna – and a few others, in fact – to tears, which was not something that happened often.

And watched with even more amusement as Benjen promptly teased her for it, earning himself Summer Isles wine all over his head.

"I rather like your little sister," Cersei murmured, her lips quirked up as Benjen scowled at Lyanna whilst Lyanna informed him that it 'served him right'.

Ned also noticed Prince Rhaegar watching the exchange with a laugh, his indigo eyes upon Lyanna for perhaps several seconds too long; ignoring what his beautiful, Dornish wife: Princess Elia Martell was saying from beside him.

Ned sighed deeply, hoping that Lyanna would not be getting herself into some kind of mess.

Soon enough, the music started and people were rising from their seats to begin to dance.

"Dance with me, Red Wolf?" Cersei requested of him, leaving her seat and offering him her hand. He nodded, getting up as the two headed to the dance floor.

Cersei, Jaime and even Lord Tywin had called him 'Red Wolf', for his part as being raised a Lannister since eight years of age – only going home for brief visits that never lasted longer than a month – and being born a Stark.

Lord Rickard Stark had frowned at first, when he had heard it; but when Ned began to show him his newly acquired skills from being fostered at Casterly Rock – even if Rickard didn't necessarily agree with them all – he too began to use the term, and allowed Ned to help him in negotiations with other Lords, seeing how well he did at spinning things to his advantage, using others words against them, and his own mass knowledge of others strengths and weaknesses and that of their houses.

He looked around to see many men gazing lustfully at Cersei, "Ser Baelor Hightower is very interested in a dance, I do believe."

"Ser Baelor is married," Cersei stated with a giggle that could only mean trouble as her green eyes were cast to the Heir to Hightower.

Ned only rolled his eyes in response, informing her that a dance didn't mean anything.

And, in turn, she replied that one dance could mean everything.

They didn't converse much after that; Cersei's eyes were caught on Jaime – who was staring at Ser Arthur Dayne as if he were the stars and the moon – and Ned's eyes roamed.

He could see his older brother – Brandon – dancing with his betrothed: Lady Catelyn.

Lady Catelyn Tully, he found, looked much like the young girl of seven years that he had briefly met at Riverrun. The same auburn hair, the same blue eyes, and – undoubtedly – the same sneer if she saw another baseborn man, woman or child.

He wondered what her reaction would be if she knew of Lady Blys Waynwood, the second youngest of Lord Jon Arryn's many nieces via his sister Lady Alys whom Brandon had taken the maidenhood of.

Ned had also heard rumours that she had had a baseborn daughter by him.

His brother was also much the same, as tall and handsome as he had been in his youth; with dark hair and grey eyes of the North; and with the same confident – bordering upon arrogant – grin as he whispered things into the Lady Catelyn's ear, who giggled and blushed in response.

Moving his eyes on, he saw Robert Baratheon talking to Lyanna, the latter of whom's smile was all too obviously forced and the former whose eyes wondered Ned's little sister's body in a way that made Ned want to poke his eyes out with a fork.

Not far from there, the Prince Rhaegar and Princess Elia danced. It was obvious to those watching that they were by no means besotted by one another, but both had remained faithful to one another. So far.

They cared for each other, Ned remembered Tywin informing him when Jaime had inquired of the royals, but they had never loved one another.

Finally, his eyes did come to rest upon one person.

There was another duo dancing – not far from the Prince and Princess – both with midnight black hair, darker than any hair Ned had ever seen, and both with haunting violet eyes that reminded him of the Targaryen's.

One was female, and the other male. Siblings or cousins, he swiftly summarised as he gazed at the two; unable to take his eyes off of the woman. And felt himself by startled when she cast her violet eyes to his own grey ones, and offered him the most beautiful of smiles.

"Lady Ashara Dayne and her eldest brother, Lord Aenar Dayne," Cersei informed him, with a smirk upon her lips, "they say that her beauty surpasses all others. I, of course, disagree."

Of course you would, Ned thought fondly as he let out a small chuckle at Cersei's words, to Cersei, there was nobody more beautiful than herself; and he doubted that there ever would be.

"Talk to her Ned," Cersei encouraged when the song ended, and Ned found himself gulping.

I am the Red Wolf, he reassured himself as he made a step towards the beautiful Lady Ashara, I am a lion and a wolf; and we are not cowardly creatures.

He watched as Lord Aenar began to walk away, and as Ashara did too, so he forced the words to fly from his mouth as he burst out, "Lady Ashara," she looked back, and so did many others as he had spoken louder than he had so intended in his nervousness, "may I have this dance?"

She smiled once more.

May the Others take me, he thought to himself when he found that this smile of hers was even more beautiful than the last had been. Her full, rosy lips stretching upwards, her deep violet eyes shining with intrigue, curiosity and amusement, "of course, Lord Eddard."

He took her hand, and the two began to dance to the tune of the musicians, he twirled her and offered her his warmest smile – a complete contrast to the coldness of his home in the North – as they settled into a comfortable rhythem of dance.

He had never been a good dancer. Not for many years, not until Cersei promptly informed him that no woman wanted a man with two left feet, came down with steel shoes on and promptly stomped on his foot every time he got something wrong or trod on her feet.

He learned, quickly.

"I believe that Lord Jaime is vying for your attention, My Lord," Ashara informed him in amusement, causing Ned to look to the side to see Jaime mouthing things like 'get in there!' and felt his cheeks heat up as Ashara giggled.

"You are a wonderful dancer, my Lady," he informed her, shifting slightly in awkwardness at the silence that he could not conquer.

"And you are surprisingly good yourself from what your brother had been telling me, Quiet Wolf," Ashara stated, and Ned frowned. His older brother insisted on still calling him the 'Quiet Wolf' for the days of shy, reserved Ned Stark that seemed to come out again in the presence of Ashara.

His eyes locked with hers and he leaned in slightly, trying to remember how Jaime had been with the many maidens he had charmed, and stared into her purple eyes, telling her, "they call me the Red Wolf now."

Her lips quirked to a smirk as she leant in further, "is that so?"

Swiftly, he span her and dipped her, with a smile as she laughed, attracting the attention of many others as he pulled her back towards him, "yes," he informed her, unable to rid himself of grins, "that is so."

Damn, that is the longest chapter I've ever written! 26 pages! Anyways, I hope you enjoyed the backstory chapter. I've only read a Game of Thrones but I've watched the whole series and I've read many fanfics, but if you see any errors then please point them out :).

What do you think of Ned? You haven't seen too much of how being raised by Lannisters has changed him yet but you will!

I think him and Cersei have a good sibling bond, and I'm enjoying writing about Ashara… Maybe she might be in it for the long run ;)

Next Chapter: Ned finding Lyanna in the Tower of Joy and the beginning of their Journey back to King's Landing for Ned to take the throne as Regent until Prince Aegon comes of age!

Ooohhh… Robert won't like that!

By the way, this book was inspired by Court of Bastards by MariDark and Her Life and Her Death by magicmoon111!

Both are brilliant so make sure to check them out!