Chapter 131: Even the Hand Can Get Slapped
King Landing has been awaiting the Trial of Bjorn Stark. It is one of the hottest topic in the realm right now. Many Lords has come to Kings Landing for the trial , six to judge it and several more to witness it.
But There is one Lord whose visit is this time will shock the realm.
Eddard Stark had not felt like himself since the ship carrying him and his party from Skagos rounded the final bend of Blackwater Bay and King's Landing rose into view, red and sprawling and exactly as ugly and smelly as he remembered.
It was strange, this feeling. He'd spent years being a quiet and Diplomatic Lord. Years learning that a still tongue kept a man safer than a sharp one, that patience outlasted pride more often than not, that the North needed a Lord who thought before he spoke and weighed every word twice before letting it loose. That had been Eddard Stark for most of his adult life—the Quiet Wolf, many called him, some kindly and not always kindly, though he'd never minded the name. Quiet had kept North steady through years that could have broken lesser men. He has endured the critics as well as the respect associated with the tittle and name.
For people accepted it or not, he has been the Lord in whose rule North developed the most, although the credit goes to all Stark brothers Him, Benji and Artos especially. But the main achievement of Lord Eddard Stark has always been to handle , trust and guide his youngest brother to keep him sane , To handle the most volatile person in the realm.
But something had shifted in him since he Heard about the news of this. It seems Lions once again has put a step against the Wolfs. That one thing he isn't able to endure. It seems both Father and Son got talent in making Tywin pride hurt.
But it didn't matter to him as he always will support his family no matter the Cost.
So after receiving a letter from Stig and Yor, he decided to travel with them and the warriors of Skagos who'd sailed south with him—men who didn't bow easily, didn't flatter, didn't dress their words in southern courtesy. Perhaps it was simply time, and the slow erosion of patience that came with watching his brother's schemes ripple through the realm from a distance, unable to do anything but wait and trust. Whatever it was, by the time his boots hit the docks of King's Landing, something in him had hardened into a shape closer to what he might have been, had the world asked different things of him sixteen years ago.
Though he has been the rebel, even though realm won't see it. A promise to his sister made him more of a Lord that needs to stay silent.
But it seems a time has come once again that would need his other side, More Northern side.
He walked through the Red Keep's outer yard with that hardness settled plainly across his face, Stig and Yor flanking him, the Skagosi warriors trailing behind in a loose formation that made the city guards along the walls straighten and watch with poorly hidden unease.
It was near the second gate that he came upon two familiar faces.
Ethan stood there in the black and gold of the City Watch commander, and beside him stood Beron, weathered and steady as ever.
Both men turned at the sound of approaching boots, and both went very still when they registered exactly who was walking toward them.
"Lord Stark." Ethan recovered quickly enough, offering a respectful bow, though something in his eyes had sharpened with immediate, careful attention.
Eddard didn't slow his pace. "Ethan,Where is my brother."
It wasn't a question so much as a demand wrapped in the barest courtesy, and something about the flatness of it, the sheer unhesitating authority behind it, made Ethan's spine straighten before he'd consciously decided to react at all.
He'd faced Artos Stark's temper more times than he cared to count these past years—the cold fury, the quiet threats, the particular weight of a man who'd earned the name Demon Wolf through decades of things Ethan didn't fully know and didn't ask about.
He'd thought that had prepared him for most things realm could throw at him.
He was wrong.
Whatever this was, standing in front of him now, it carried its own kind of gravity, different from Artos's but no less real. Ethan felt it settle over him like a hand pressing down on the back of his neck, and it took real, deliberate effort to keep his voice level when he answered.
"The yard near The Tower of Hand, my lord. East wall. I can escort you, if—"
"No need." Eddard's tone brooked no argument. "I know this keep. Simply tell me the way, and return to your duty."
Ethan blinked, some part of him wanting to insist, the rest of him recognizing, with startling clarity, that insisting would not go over well. "East wall, past the second courtyard, my lord. You'll hear it before you see it, most days."
Eddard gave a single, short nod, and then he was moving again, Stig and Yor falling into step behind him without a word exchanged, the Skagosi warriors following in silence.
Ethan watched them go until they'd rounded the corner and vanished from sight, and only then did he let out a long, unsteady breath.
Both men sighs at first.
"Fuck," Beron muttered beside him, echoing the sentiment perfectly. "I never thought I'd see that side of Lord Stark once again."
Ethan turned to him, brow furrowed. "You've seen it before?"
Beron's expression went distant for a moment, some old memory surfacing behind his eyes. "Aye, Though rarely Lord Stark temper is no joke. Sixteen years back. In the Throne room, right after the Rebellion ended. Lord Stark threatened Tywin Lannister to his face, in front of the King and everyone watching." He shook his head slowly and hesitated but spoke " Also after the reconciliation of Lord Artos and Lord Stark during Greyjoy Rebellion. Lord Stark even Slapped Lord Artos in front of everyone though it was in different context. It was more on a emotional Fueled."
Beron continued"Didn't think I'd ever see that look on him again. Man's spent damn near two decades burying it under courtesy and quiet words."
Ethan glanced back toward the corner where Eddard Stark had disappeared, something uneasy and fascinated warring in his chest.
"Gods help whoever gets in his way today, then."
---
Lord Eddard Stark is going towards the area where Artos supposedly is and looked towards Yor who has more anger than anyone here.
Stig understand the situation better than anyone and is calm which is a suprise and shock. Though he understands the danger of the situation for his nephew.
Yor on the other side as a Skagosi and lover of Artos Stark , should be understanding but as a Mother of the Child involved she is angry and scared. More scared than angry.
Eddard Stark is just preparing himself for the worse as he knew the angers of Northerners even a respected Lord like him couldn't control the anger of all the Lords. Though this time even he don't want to.
Artos stood at the yard's center, He caught the movement at the yard's entrance from the corner of his eye and some suprising guests , some familiar faces.
Eddard.
Stig.
Yor.
And behind them, Skagosi warriors he hadn't laid eyes on in years, weathered and watchful, exactly as he remembered them.
Artos lowered his sword slowly, disbelief flickering openly across a face that rarely allowed such things room to show. "Brother—"
He never finished the word but saw Yor coming at jim
Yor moved fast for a woman, faster than most people expected , and he saw the flat of her palm caught coming hard across his face.
He could have avoided it with his speed but he didn't. He knew Yor and understand her reasons.
So to the suprise of every men and women present there. Somebody dared to slap Artos fucking Stark.
It made a impact on his face hard.
The crack of it echoed sharply off the yard's stone walls.
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