Westeros, The North
Winterfell
298 AC
The next day finds the Lord of Winterfell's solar crowded with people once more. Though now it is the royal party facing the leaders of Winterfell as opposed to them convening amongst themselves. Aerion and Robb, as the aggrieved party, are allowed to be present.
Aerion's sources told him that the king had attempted to resolve the situation quietly between him and Ned, but the Lord of Winterfell would not have it. Perhaps the Lady of Winterfell had a hand in his decision, or perhaps an attempt on his son's life is not such a simple matter that his fractured friendship with the king can be used to smooth it over, or perhaps the attempt on his son's life was the final straw to make Eddard Stark realise that Robert Baratheon's hands off leadership is not as harmless as he thought it to be.
Robb seems to believe that it is a mixture of the latter two and Aerion is inclined to agree, the fact it took this much irks him something fierce however. Though, being honest with himself, Aerion can admit that in that regard his uncle is a better man than he, for Eddard Stark's loyalty is unshakable lest one's views are in direct opposition of his. This can easily be seen in every timeline where Eddard Stark distances himself from the crown due to Robert choosing to send assassins after Daenerys Targaryen despite his council to do otherwise; Eddard Stark would choose to give up power that places him above all but the king rather than be accomplice to the assassination of a stranger. A child yes, but a stranger still. One whose family has brought nothing but harm and sorrow to him.
Aerion does not think himself capable of such righteousness, at least not if it would potentially harm those he cares for; and that is exactly what distancing oneself from the crown in favor of the previous dynasty would do, paint a target's on one's back for those who wish to curry favor to the current royal family.
"How do you want to deal with this Ned?" sighs Robert Baratheon, shaking Aerion from his thoughts.
The King of the Seven Kingdoms sits before them with a frown on his face. A face that is already reddening from all the drinking he has been doing since sitting down. They have not been here longer than five minutes and already the man has downed three full mugs of their strongest ale. Truly his survival up to this point is a marvel of the capabilities of the human body. Between the excessive drinking, the horrible eating habits, and the fact that no one ever checks his food or drinks for poisons, one would not be wrong to expect him to have died long ago.
"An apology at the very least would be appreciated." Eddard Stark says, his voice devoid of emotion.
Robert stops, his mug halfway to his open mouth, before he slowly looks to his side where his son sits. With speed that Aerion is barely able to track, Robert smashes the mug into Joffrey's already damaged and bandaged face.
"Robert!" screams Cersei as she springs from her chair on Robert's opposite side and runs towards her unconscious son.
The king would have none of it however as he picks her up with one hand, and, as if she weighs nothing, throws her back into her seat. With the other hand Robert grabs Joffrey by the collar of his tunic and shakes him awake.
The entire ordeal happens in the span of five seconds at the most, and truthfully Aerion admits to himself that were the victims not a woman and a child twelve years of age he would be impressed. He would struggle to match that explosiveness and speed were he to fight Robert currently.
"Did I not tell you to apologise?" Roberts demands as Joffrey blearily comes to. "Answer the fucking question, boy." he snarls.
"Why should I?" Joffrey says, slurring his speech. "They are naught but northern savages. Dogs to obey our every command." he adds.
Hearing Joffrey's words, Robert's snarling face turns bright red as he grits his teeth and tightens his hold on the prince.
Yet before he can smash his fist into the boy's face Eddard Stark is there, placing a hand over the king's fist. Outraged at whoever has the audacity to stop him, Robert drops Joffrey and turns to the one responsible with a roar as he swings his other fist at them.
"Who fucking dares?" he demands
Eddard catches that fist too and the impact creates a wind that ruffles loose clothing and sends papers flying in the air.
Having his fist stopped a second time seems to shock the rage from Robert's mind for he blinks down at Eddard with wide eyes before a smile grows on his face.
"Hahahaha. Seems you haven't been skipping the practice yard." Robert laughs as Eddard lets go of his hands. "You've gotten stronger, Ned." Robert says as he makes his way to the table and chugs down the pitcher of ale.
Eddard does not answer him, choosing instead to observe him with a barely visible frown on his face that Robert rolls his eyes at, causing Eddard's frown to deepen.
As the Lord of Winterfell and the King appear to converse silently amongst themselves, Aerion observes the rest of the room's occupants, finding what he expects to see on everyone's face; shock, awe, and even slight fear in the case of Lady Catelyn.
What intrigues Aerion however is Ser Jaime's murderous glare directed towards the King while his hands tightly grip the handle of his sword. No one else seems to have caught onto Ser Jaime's blunderous lack of self-control, and Aerion is not one to let an enemy know when he has identified a weakness and as such continues on as if he saw nothing.
"Everyone out." commands Robert. "Ned and I will speak alone." he says.
Yet everyone, save for the queen and prince, remains where they are for the shock of the king's violence has yet to wear off.
"I will speak with Robert alone." Eddard tells the people of Winterfell, prompting them to start walking. As they make their way out, Aerion cannot help the slight amusement he feels as Robb meets his eyes, for they seem to have the exact same idea.
If their father thinks that his conversation with the king will truly happen with no witnesses then he is sorely mistaken.
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As the door closes behind Jon, Eddard cannot help the slight wince that crosses his face as he removes his gloves to look at his reddening hand. Despite Robbert letting himself go and increasing his own training, Eddard still cannot take the full might of Robert's strike.
Making his way back to his seat, Eddard retakes his position across from Robert.
"Where did I go wrong with the boy, Ned." sighs Robert.
Hearing Robert continue to call him Ned does not surprise him, yet he no longer finds comfort in it. Rather it now sounds patronising and Eddard wishes that their friendship will recover from this recent event but Eddard does not think it possible.
"I do not know, your grace." Eddard replies .
"Bah, it's just the two of us now. You can stop with that bullshit." Robert scoffs.
"I cannot, your grace." Eddard says once more, causing Robert to frown.
"Fine. Let's just get this shit over with so I can go home." Robert replies.
For a moment Eddard makes to tell Robert that an apology will suffice before quickly catching himself. He cannot do that, Eddard thinks to himself.
"Winter is coming, and with the length of this summer it is bound to be a brutal one. Exempt the North from taxes for its duration, and return the New Gift back to us. The Night's Watch has wasted it and it is valuable land where the North can grow more food." Eddard tells Robert.
For a moment the solar is silent as Robert regards Eddard with a slight frown.
"Seven hells." swears Robert with a sigh. "You're too honorable by half." Robert says. "Your heir almost dies and your bastard loses his eye and instead of fleecing the Crown for all its worth you just want a barren wasteland and to not pay taxes for a measly couple of years?"
"Anything else would be unseemly." Eddard says with a frown.
"Good!" exclaims Robert. "Be selfish for once in your life." Robert tells him. "Here, how about I elevate the North to a principality while we're at it?" he says, shocking Eddard.
"The other lords would not accept it." argues Eddard.
"Bah, so what? What are they going to do about it, rebel? If I let Dorne keep their title and rights as a princedom, I can damn give you those same rights and title." Robert responds as he takes a blank piece of paper and quill from Eddard's desk and begins to write.
"I, King Robert Baratheon, blah, blah, blah, we know all the bullshit that comes with it. Do hereby elevate the North to a Princedom, and confer the title of Prince and all its rights and privileges to House Stark in perpetuity. In addition, for the duration of the coming winter, House Stark and all its vassals are hereby exempt from taxes." Robert mutters to himself as he writes.
"Here." he says as he signs the paper and hands it over to Eddard.
When Dorne joined the Seven Kingdoms through marriage, as opposed to conquest, Prince Maron had won a few concessions in the accord, and the lords of Dorne hold significant rights and privileges that the other great houses do not—the right to keep their royal title first among them, but also the autonomy to maintain their own laws, the right to assess and gather the taxes due to the Iron Throne with only irregular oversight from the Red Keep, and other such matters. The list of privileges were so favorable to Dorne that none were happy with the Iron Throne for agreeing to such an accord.
As Eddard sits there dumbfounded and looking at the paper, Robert stands from his seat and makes his way towards the door.
"I'm going home Ned, have to go before my waste of a son makes another mess. When winter is over I'm throwing a tourney to celebrate, I better see your frozen face down south when the time comes; you and your family." Robert says, bringing Eddard out of his head.
With one last look towards the paper, Eddard stands and follows Robert.
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With his father and the king gone, Aerion carefully slips the ring from his finger and braces himself for the fatigue that comes with accessing the realm between worlds.
The ring is barely off his finger when Aerion finds himself swaying and leaning on his father's desk for support.
"Twice in as many days." says Ambrosius, and Aerion can feel his disapproval through the coin. "Beyond most mortals you may be, but that does not mean that you are not mortal. Anymore and you will find yourself falling into a deep slumber until your spirit recovers."
"It certainly did not help that I used magic while in there." Aerion whispers as he straightens himself out.
"Using Persuasion while in the realm between worlds did indeed exacerbate the issue." agrees Ambrosius.
Persuasion, magic that allows Aerion to sway someone's thought, words, or actions. An ability that he accidentally discovered through singing and has worked tirelessly to refine it until he can make use of it through a mere whisper. It is a powerful ability, one he admits that he has made liberal use of throughout the years.
Still, it is not all powerful for he cannot use it to make anyone act out of character, nor can it be used to overpower or subsume someone else's will. It is a tool of precision as opposed to one of power. Useless in the hands of brute, but dangerous once paired with a cunning mind.
It is that very tool which he used to have Joffrey attack Robb, and the very same one that has just used on the king. Granted he did not expect as much success when using it on the king; the guilt of his son's actions must weigh on him more than Aerion thought. It's almost sad enough to make him care.
"Your uncle Benjen and his friend did good." comments Ambrosius.
"Aye." Aerion agrees.
His uncle's task was a simple one, to speak of princedoms as much as possible around the king without arousing his suspicion. A trying task considering the limited amount of time he would have in order to do so; too much and it becomes odd for the First Ranger of the Night's Watch to do so, and too little and it becomes that much more difficult to use Persuasion to have the king elevate House Stark and the North for the thought would not cross his mind.
Per usual, Uncle Benjen is as dependable as ever.
"You have outdone yourself with this scheme." compliments Ambrosius, bringing a smile to Aerion's face as he sets about copying the document.
"In truth, it means nothing in the grand scheme of things." Aerion says. "King Robert has at most three more years, and when he dies the realm will fall into chaos. Between a continent spanning war and the coming of the Others, no one will care that House Stark is now a princedom."
"Then why make a copy?" Ambrosius asks.
"Just in case." is all Aerion says as he finishes and makes his way to the window.
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Westeros, The North
Queenscrown
298 AC
He should be dead. That is the first thought that comes to Waymar Royce's mind as he comes to. The pale sword had gone through his side and his brothers had abandoned him. He should be dead, or at the very least bleeding out on the snow beyond the Wall.
With a groan he tries to sit up only for a flash of pain to force him back down.
"Easy now." says an accented voice to his right. "The cold from the pale one's sword has damaged your insides. You will recover, but it will be a slow and painful one."
Turning to the voice, Waymar cannot see much through his blurry vision. "Who are you?" he asks.
"Once, I was a man of high standing. The patriarch of a clan whose power covered much of the skies of Yi Ti. Now? I am a disgraced patriarch whose clan only survived due to the generosity of a dragon who hides in the snow." says the man.
The mention of a dragon alarms Waymar as his mind quickly thinks of the only house whose sigil is a dragon.
"Ah, I see that there is already a misunderstanding. I am not one of those so-called loyalists. No, the dragon which I serve is not mad, nor is he white of hair." the man says.
Waymar makes to answer but he finds his thoughts disordered and his mouth struggling to cooperate.
As he reenters the realm of dreams all he hears is the old man mumbling to himself. "Sleep little Bronze Prince, the Dragon has use for you yet."
AN: Here's the next chapter. I struggled a bit with this chapter since there were two paths I was considering for this story, one where I keep the magic as vague as in the books and one where I go all in with the fantasy and amp it up.
Since it's a dc crossover I decided to go all in and amp it up. That's why we have the scene where the impact of Ned and Robert's hands creating that wind and little shockwave. The people of Westeros are easily stronger, faster, sturdier, etc… than regular humans. And the trained warriors are even more so. That means that legendary characters like Jaime, Barristan, Arthur, etc… are, well, Legendary.
We also get a sneak peak at something Jon and Robb have been working on but kept completely hidden from everyone, Ned included.
The next chapter ends the prologue arc.
As usual, tell me what you guys think and don't be afraid to comment.