GoT: The Blessed and the Cursed

Prologue 7



Ned Stark woke up from another deep sleep. It was the only thing he could do in the state he was in, and on the other side, his dear friend, Howland Reed, was lying in the wooden bedding, naked as the day he was born, with bandages covering his torso and the big red mark of blood that stained them. 

The nurses had said that he would make it, and looking at his complexion, which had improved since yesterday, he was finally relieved. 

His eyes scanned the empty room again, where there were only two beddings and a latrine attached to it. 

They received food once a day, were given a single jar of water, and having fasted like this for eight days, his eyes were now sunken, and his cheekbones more prominent. 

He gritted his teeth as he glanced at his own nakedness. 

They were not bound or tortured, but they both still felt humiliated. 

Not even a loincloth was spared to them to cover their manhoods, and the giggles of the nurses and maids, whenever they sneaked glances at his pecker, humiliated him even more.

Angry at his current predicament, he shot up to his feet and marched over to the door to hammer his fist on it. 

He was not expecting any response. The Knights outside always remained silent, except for that obnoxious Oswell, who loved throwing insults at him, his House, and all the 'Rebels'.

Ned prayed to the Old Gods to give him an opportunity to punch that bastard in the face, but now, he started feeling like he would forever be stuck in this tower. 

*click* 

The Stark surprisedly stepped back when he heard the door being unlocked, and when it opened, his heart became restless as he found a maid standing there. 

Again, she looked at his manhood and held back a snicker, a humiliation that no man could ever bear, and then she threw over the clothes she had been holding in her hands. 

"Get dressed. Lady Lyanna wishes to speak to you." 

Ned barely paid attention to her words, but when he heard the familiar name, his eyes shot open, and so did his mouth. 

"Lyanna?!" 

The nurse rolled her eyes at his behaviour and then left the room. 

He chased after her, not caring about his nakedness, but was stopped in his tracks as Gerold Hightower, who was guarding the door today, drew his Valyrian Sword and pointed it dangerously close to his manhood. 

"Get inside, Stark. Or the son you have just had will be your only child in this life." 

"Son?" Ned looked at him in surprise, and despite himself, a smile crept on his face. 

"Aye, a son. They say he is born with the Tully hair, and people are speculating, Stark." 

"He's my son!" 

"So you say." The White Bull smiled at him and then closed his sword even more, forcing Ned to stumble back into the room in a very pathetic manner. 

He growled as the door closed, but then quickly dressed up. He was finally relieved in his heart, and he no longer cared about any insults. 

All he wanted to do was to meet his sister now. 

"I am ready. Take me to see my sister!" He loudly said, and the door opened again.

This time, there was Oswell present with Gerold, and in his hands was a stick and a rope.

The way the Kingsguard suggestively waved the stick, sent chills up his spine, but he already knew what it was for and turned around, putting his hands behind his back. 

Ned winced when the Kingsguard bound his hands in a cross behind his back, a stretch that was so uncomfortable that it already ached his shoulders. 

But he cared not, as he was going to see his sister. 

On the way, as they climbed the stairs of the Tower, he glanced at the height, and suddenly fear started whispering in their hearts. 

Was Lyanna dead? 

Were they going to throw him off the Tower? 

Is this what they meant when they said that Lyanna wanted to see him?

The questions made him stop for a moment, and the evil snicker of Oswell chilled his heart. 

"You finally realised it, Stark. Unfortunately, your son will never see your face..." The Knight stopped and laughed when Ned started struggling. 

"Enough. You are not dying today, Lord Stark." Gerold coldly said, and despite himself, Ned believed those words. 

Gerold was a man of honour, unlike Oswell. He would not kill his prisoner in such a dishonourable way. 

He finally breathed a sigh of relief when they did not drag him over to the edge but brought him to a door, and after knocking once, Gerold opened it and pushed him inside. 

Ned stumbled into the room, but he had already seen the face of the girl who was sitting on the cushioned bench, holding a newborn in her arms. A scene that froze him. 

"Lyanna..." 

"Ned." 

They greeted each other before Oswell grabbed him and pushed him to sit on the opposite bench to his sister. 

The two siblings remained silent as they looked into each other's eyes in mixed emotions,  but as soon as Ned saw his sister give an affectionate smile to the baby in her arms, he had already begun questioning everything. 

"He's my son, Ned." 

"A bastard..." The words subconsciously left his mouth. He did not mean to say it and regretted it immediately. "Did he..." He swallowed his words, and seeing the glare that she sent his way, he already had the answer. 

"His name is Rhaemon. Rhaemon Targaryen." She told him, and even though he was already expecting it, his mind still went blank. "No, my husband did not rape me. He was more honourable than you and your friends who sullied my honour, claiming that I was raped, and used my name to achieve your goals." 

"We did it for you..." 

"No. You did it because you wanted to avenge Father and Brandon. You never cared for me, Ned. And you are only here because you want to gift me to your sworn brother." 

Tears pooled out of his eyes as her words cut deep inside his heart. 

"Come with me, Lyanna. I promise..." 

"Winterfell is no longer my home." She cut him off. "I and my Child will stay away from you and your Usurper of a friend. I have heard what he has ordered. He wants every Targaryen dead. He even wants the heads of Azaerys, Viserys, Aegon, and Rhaenys, who are innocent children. Is this the honour you so proudly wear on your chest?" 

There was nothing Eddard Stark could say in response. He regretted the day he had proposed the union between Robert and Lyanna. And now, he was starting to regret every decision since that day. 

"Lyanna..." 

"I have only called you here to ask some questions, Ned. Do not ask me to do anything that you know I would never do." She coldly told him and wiped away the tear that slipped out of her eyes. "Where's my brother?" 

Eddark Stark felt like his heart was being ripped to pieces by her words. 

Did she not even consider him her brother anymore? 

"Benjen is at Winterfell." He answered. 

"When did you last talk to him?" 

He frowned at her question. 

"Before or after Father left for King's Landing?" She asked again, being specific this time.

"Before," replied Ned.

"Did Father confine him?" Her voice trembled as she asked the question. 

"Aye," he nodded his head. "I sent the command to release him and appointed him as the acting Lord of Winterfell when I called my Bannermen." 

"You should have spoken to him, Ned..." Her voice broke, and he felt even more restless. "He was there that night. Helped me sneak out... I gave him the letter to deliver to father. I also gave one to Lysa." She wiped her tears. "I was not kidnapped, Ned. I left with Rhaegar by choice. I loved him." 

"But Father and Brandon..." He wanted to argue but then felt like someone had poured a bucket of cold water on him. 

He knew how much his Father detested the Targaryens. He knew how he always used to say that Cregan Stark should have claimed the Throne when he had the opportunity. 

Ned knew that his father wanted to see the Mad King gone. He wanted an Independent North. 

"Aerys was a Mad King, Lord Eddard. But he was not so mad that he would burn your father without a reason." Ser Gerold spoke. "I was there, and I remember your brother asking for Rhaegar's head when he arrived in King's Landing." 

"Do you know that asking for your Crown Prince's head is treason? Remind me, Lord Stark, what is the punishment for Treason in the North?" Oswell coldly asked. "Aerys was furious, and your brother was arrested. Arrested, not killed. Your father was called to the court to answer for his sons stupidity and treason, but instead of declaring his allegiance to the Crown, apologise for his son's treacherous words, he challenged the King's Authority, called him a Mad King to his face, and questioned the honour of the Targaryens in his disguised words." 

"Rickard asked for a Trial by Combat for his son, which Brandon had already requested, and Aerys was indeed the Mad King," sighed Ser Gerold, "In his eyes, the people who held treacherous thoughts did not deserve a way out, so, he accepted the request but named Fire as his Champion. The King burned him alive and made your brother watch it happen. Your brother, in his attempt to save your father, and trying to reach for a nearby sword, strangled himself to death." 

"The people who were there at the court that day, five hundred of them, had mixed feelings. Most felt that Aerys was a bit excessive, too cruel, truly mad, unwise, but no one would deny that your Father and Brother had committed treason," Oswell smiled. "The punishment of treason is death. Does it matter how it is awarded?" He questioned. "And now we know that your Father always knew that Lady Lyanna had not been kidnapped. Makes us wonder what his intentions were when he did not correct his son at the court and also demanded her return." 

"If father wanted to rebel, he would have taken their forces with him to the capital..." Ned shook his head, not believing those words, and holding tightly on the last bit of his family's honour. 

His words did make them question things over, but soon their attention turned to the soft voice from the corner. 

"Perhaps, some people had promised him support at the court, but stepped back at the very last moment. Intentionally or, maybe, due to fear. Then again, your father probably thought that the King would not reduse his request for the Trial by Combat, given how many people and nobles were there that day." 

Ned turned to look towards the corner and was stunned to find a boy, who did not look like a mortal, sitting there, eating some grapes. 

"You were all used as pawns, and those who played the Game of Thrones achieved their goals." He smiled as he stood up. "Take him away." He ordered, and Oswell immediately pulled Ned to his feet and dragged him out of the room. 

"Lyanna!"

"Farewell, Ned." She did not even look at him as she wished him goodbye, and soon he found himself back in his empty cell. 

Howland Reed was awake now and he asked what happened, but Ned stayed silent as he sat in the corner and questioned everything since the day the betrothal of Lyanna and Robert was accepted by his father. 

Hours later, a maid entered and left them their meal, which he did not even touch, and by the time the sky darkened, he was so restless that he did know what was true and what was false. 

Was everything a lie? Their Rebellion, their fight against oppression... No. Aerys was a Mad King, with no regard for anyone. How many fathers and sons jad he not burned alive? How many houses were not exterminated? 

He still recalled the Defiance of the Dunkensdale, and what Aerys did to the Darklyn Family. He had wiped them all.

The Mad King would have done the same to more houses.

They fought against a cruel King. How could it be wrong? 

But Ned could no longer deny that the banner they banded under was a lie. 

Soon, all the rumours about the Crown Prince getting ready to save the Seven Kingdoms by forcefully taking the thrown hit him. It was no secret that there was tension between Rhaegar and Aerys.

Even now, despite everything that happened, there were people who believed that the Prince was kind and honourable. 

Ned recalled the Battle of Trident, he remembered it so vididly. He had watched the Prince fight with honour, and had it not been for his honour, Robert would have been the one slain on that day.

He felt suffocated as guilt crushed his heart, and he felt disgusted with his sworn Brother. What different was Robert than the Mad King? Ge too has called for the deaths of the Targaryens children. Every last one of them.

Overwhelmed with his emotions, he rushed towards the door, slamming his hand on it.

"I want to see my sister!" He begged, but no response came. 

In his agitation, he pulled the door and nearly stumbled back when it unexpectedly opened. 

There was no one outside. No one. 

And he rushed out. 

Ned climbed the stairs as fast as he could, ignored the maids and the nurses on the way, and when he arrived at the door of Lyanna's room, he stopped and nervously opened it. 

As he feared, there was no one inside, and he felt dizzy as he made his way to the bench and sat down. 

There was a note on the table for him, next to a sealed letter, and as he read it, his heart ached even more. 

"I forgive you, Ned. You are just as much a victim as I am. And if you really consider me your sister and care for me, accept my one last request. The sealed letter is for Benjen. Please, do not open it. Give it to him." ~ Lyanna.

He reached for the wine on the table, not caring if it was poisoned. The thought was not even on his mind as he downed two glasses, but it still did not help the restlessness in his heart. 

Someone entered the room then, a beautiful face and black hair that was braided and was hanging down her ample bosom. 

"Where's everyone?" He asked her, even though he already knew the answer. 

"They left right after you were taken back to your room, My Lord." She said as she came to sit uncomfortably close to him. "You seem unwell, her tender hand cupped his cheek, forcing him to look at her.

And after their eyes met, his emotions were no longer in his control. 

"What's your name?" He gently asked after their lips separated. 

"Jasmine, My Lord." She told him with a smile before she started helping him take off his clothes. 

It was a night, which despite his drunken state, Lord Eddard Stark would remember in detail for the rest of his life. 

Jasmine had made him feel alive again after all the pain that had gripped him for the entire day. And as much as he loved every moment of it, this night would forever haunt him as well. 

Far away from the Tower of Joy, a certain Targaryen, who was riding his horse into the night, suddenly smiled.

"Care to share the thoughts?" Lyanna, who was riding by his side, with her son in her arms, saw it and asked. 

"No." 

"Hmph! Suit yourself." 


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