The city gathered as Lord Eddard stood on the High Septon's pulpit outside the doors of the Sept of Baelor, supported between two gold cloaks. He was thinner than Jon had ever seen him, his long face drawn in pain, the cast over his leg gray and rotten.
The squat, fat High Septon stood behind him wearing long white robes and a crown of spun gold and crystal wreathing his head with rainbows whenever he moved.
Jon stood off to the side with Sam watching the knot of knights and high lords clustered before the marble pulpit. Their escorts stood behind them, Sam having joined Jon in his honor of having a personal guard ready to kill him. Though Varys and Littlefinger surely knew of Sam's all but being disowned by his father, it seemed they wanted to be ready to use him if they had to.
Joffrey stood prominent among the lords, clothed in crimson silk and satin with a golden crown across his curls. The queen mother stood beside him in mournful black with a slash of crimson and a veil of black diamonds in her hair. Jon felt anger stir in him seeing her wear the colors that should have been his.
The Hound now wore a snow white cloak over his dark gray armor, joined by three other kingsguard. Varys stood near Littlefinger, and Jon wondered which of them had told his father of his presence in the city. Pycelle might have, but he doubted the man would bother visiting the cells, where he wasn't certain with Varys and had little doubt Littlefinger would be petty enough to go down and boast to his father after the betrayal Ser Barristan told him of. He knew they'd told him when Ned was brought out and there was little shock on his face when he saw Jon, only sorrow as a long line of gold cloaked spearmen held the crowd at bay.
When the bell ceased quiet settled upon the crowd and Ned raise his head to speak. His voice was so weak few could make him out, causing others to yell for him to speak up. Jon wanted to get him a proper drink of water or speak on his behalf, but he'd already done his part. He just hoped he'd done enough.
"I am Eddard Stark," he began again in a raised voice. "Lord of Winterfell and Hand of the King, and I come before you to confess my treason in the sight of the gods and men."
Jon kept his face slate as the crowd cursed and shouted obscenities at Ned. Jon found himself looking to them, hoping he could remember them and find them in the future. King's Landing could use a few less people crowding its streets.
"I betrayed the faith of my king and the trust of my friend, Robert," he shouted. "I swore to defend and protect his children, yet before his blood was cold, I plotted to depose and murder his son and seize the throne for myself. Let the High Septon and Baelor the Beloved and the Seven bear witness to the truth of what I say: Joffrey Baratheon is the one true heir to the Iron Throne, and by the grace of all the gods, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm."
A stone sailed through the crowd, hitting Ned's forehead hard enough the gold cloaks had to keep him from falling. Blood trickled from the gash as more stones followed, one hitting a knight while Kingsguard stepped in front of Joffrey and Cersei to protect them.
The High Septon knelt before Joffrey and Cersei. "As we sin, so do we suffer," he spoke so all could hear. "This man has confessed his crimes in sight of gods and men, here in this holy place." Rainbows stretched across his head as he raised his hands. "The gods are just, yet Blessed Baelor taught us that they are also merciful. What shall be done with this traitor, your grace?"
Thousands screamed suggestions as Joffrey stepped past the kingsguard. "I have heard that time in a cell changes a man's heart. Others have said not even my father would let such treachery go unpunished!" Some of them shouted in support while Cersei and Varys looked tense before Joffrey smiled. "I believe the punishment should fit the man as much as the crime. Lord Eddard," Joffrey turned to the Hand, "you will take the black."
Ned looked as relieved as some of the other lords as he nodded. "If that is your command, your grace."
Joffrey's magnanimous smile twisted into a cruel grin, his emerald eyes dancing as he nodded. "Then you shall be sent to the Wall to take the black," he said turning and pointing, "after you have been scourged by Ser Jon Snow." He ignored the confusion and whispers from Varys and his mother. "Let this show that disloyalty can turn even your own blood against you." Joffrey walked toward Jon, smirking as he asked quietly, "Unless you can't do as your king commands?"
Jon met his eyes and shook his head. "No, though I would need a whip."
Joffrey snickered, turning to call out, "Ser Ilyn, bring a whip and bind Lord Stark."
Jon felt his stomach twist in anger, not only at Joffrey's cruelty, but at the looks of disappointment he noticed on the faces of Ilyn Payne and Littlefinger. Had they wanted more? Ilyn had looked ready to draw his greatsword. Maybe they had tried to suggest Joffrey to do as they desired, much as Jon had.
"They would have damned me to the wall," Jon had told them during court. "He doesn't know what it is like. The only times he wasn't safe within the walls of some keep were when he was at war alongside your father, but I've visited the Wall. I've been to Castle Black, spoken with the men and trained with them. Though the older ones have it broken, the young are cruel, still criminals. He would have cast me into that life, much as he sent his youngest brother to suffer it."
Even whenever they spoke briefly in passing after that, Jon tried to bring up the Wall if he could. He'd done all he could to make the poetic justice of sending Ned to suffer at the Wall seem too enticing to pass up. If this is what it took to keep Ned alive, then Jon would do it. He wouldn't have to bear the scarred back, only the knowledge that each one was given by him.
The crowd watched as Ned was bound to the marble pulpit, Joffrey ignoring the High Septon's pleas as Ilyn returned with a scourge which he handed to Jon. Taking a breath, Jon watched them cut open the back of Ned's doublet, revealing his bare back.
Joffrey's face darkened as he smiled in anticipation of the first strike. But after a moment passed where Jon simply looked the whip over he started to call out, "Let-"
Jon turned and struck hard enough the crack was heard across the plaza, making the crowd gasp. Blood trickled from the marks across Ned's back as Jon threw his arm back and swung again. Ned screamed while the lashes peeled his back, leaving cuts in varying patterns with every strike.
Joffrey had been startled by the sudden start, but it gave way to sadistic joy watching Jon apparently give in to his anger and yell with every strike, which seemed to be as hard as he could muster. Sam frowned watching Jon, but when he glanced at Joffrey and saw the boy smiling, he wondered if Jon had a reason behind acting so aggressive. He seemed more angered than sorrowful of each strike, as if he truly didn't care for his father, or perhaps was using this to vent his anger at those watching.
Sam's brow furrowed slightly as he wondered if Jon was using this to get close to the king. Joffrey's sadism was well known to them, yet for all the court knew Jon shared the same trait but hid it because he had to. Was this another way to earn the king's trust? Or perhaps even a way to get close enough to have some influence on him?
Let him think Jon like him in a way. He was near enough Jon's age and would surely want to find his own advisers. Did Jon plan to be one? Or was he simply doing this to support their view of him as an angry bastard willing to support the Baratheons because they gave him a chance at a better life while the Stark kept him from achieving what he could?
Ned hung limp from the pulpit as blood ran down his back, dripping down the steps while Jon stood staring at the shredded flesh across Ned's back while taking heavy breaths. The crowd stood in silence until applause drew their eyes to their king, who walked toward Jon and placed a hand on his shoulder. "A true knight who deals the king's justice even against his own uncaring father." Joffrey laughed, looking to Ned. "Take Lord Stark to be treated, then have him brought to the Wall."
In the crowd Yoren quickly made his way toward the gold cloaks to tell them of his impending departure while Jon was pulled aside by Joffrey. "You did well, Snow. I never expected that."
"I apologize if it was too much, your grace." Jon bowed his head, handing the scourge to Ilyn. "I fear I let myself lose control for a moment."
Joffrey shook his head. "No harm done," he said as the gold cloaked lifted the unconscious Ned and dragged him to the maester. "I'll make sure you have a chance to speak with your father before he leaves."
"Thank you, you grace," Jon said with a put on smile, remembering what Robert had said before knighting him. "I admit to finding a certain joy in putting those who look down on me in their place, even if they are my kin."
Joffrey chuckled, patting his shoulder as he departed, leaving Jon to return to Sam's side. Walking back to their chambers they were silent before Sam finally asked, "Are you okay?"
Jon nodded, keeping his eyes forward as he whispered, "I'm going kill them all." Joffrey, Cersei, Littlefinger, Ilyn Payne, Varys, the High Septon, hells he'd slaughter everyone in that crowd who cursed or threw rocks at his father if he could. He'd bring the sept down if he could, build a Godswood in honor of Ned or let Thoros build a temple for R'hllor to spite them all.
The nightmares that night didn't surprise him. They only made his blood burn even more than it already did.
After finally seeing her brother and father Catelyn found Robb in the godswood with others who kept the old gods. It was there she learned that Renly had made claim for the Iron Throne rather than support Joffrey. Once the others left to form a council to meet that evening, she looked to Robb.
"Are you certain about this?"
"I am," Robb nodded, looking to where Grey Wind and Ghost stood off to the side watching them. "It's as they said it would be."
While they had spent the night resting with them, Alyn told him what Jon had told his Fellowship. "He intend to entice them into making your father take the black. Him and his friend seemed confident they could."
"And if they let him?"
"They'll likely send a group to escort him and make sure you don't try to break him free." Ser Raymun said with a smirk. "You'll never get the chance before a fellowship from the Riverlands holds him ransom and has you pay for his freedom. Or so they'll hear."
Robb hoped it was a freedom he accepted. His father may still have him stand down, become neutral against the warring south. He could even think to take the black as some way to assure them of his intent to keep true to whatever promises they made him make after Jon had lashed him before the city.
"Word will have reached them by now," Robb told his mother. "Jon's fellowship will find and free father."
Catelyn frowned. "How can we be certain this isn't all some act? That his sending the men North isn't some act in itself, a way to have them take Winterfell for him?"
Robb frowned at her. "Mother…"
Catelyn sighed. "I worry, Robb. They follow him because he nearly died saving them? Doesn't it seem odd they would be so loyal simply because he was brave?"
"And because he survived what few others could," Robb added. He'd told her only a version of what the Fellowship had told him, keeping Jon's death and his dragon a secret, saying he miraculously survived a wound instead. That their loyalty was born from Jon's bravery and a common goal of justice. If it hadn't involved father he might not have even told her that much. "You worry for no reason, mother. Let the others worry of Jon's betrayal. Once I know I can trust them I'll tell them the truth of him, but until we're secure I can't risk it. So let us at least put our faith in Jon."
That faith was rewarded when before their council meeting stewards rushed to get Robb and Catelyn, telling them, "Riders approach. Riders with wolves."
Their confusion gave way to joyful relief as they saw Ser Domeric Bolton leading in a group with Arya and Sansa followed by Jeyne and an unfamiliar face as well as three wolves led by Nymeria, who had grown near as much as her brothers who rushed to her side.
Catelyn was in tears watching her daughters dismount, taking a shaky breath, waving them to her. Sansa lifted her skirts, nearly knocking her mother with her steel cap as she went to hug her. Arya quickly followed, Catelyn bending slightly to hold them both.
"Look at you," Robb said with a laugh as Arya turned to him. "You look half a knight."
"She is near enough one," Sansa said as she stepped away from their mother and the sisters moved to hug their brother. "She saved me and Jeyne from Lannister bandits alongside Dom and Syrio."
"What?" Catelyn asked with a gasp, watching Arya chew her lips as she backed away.
"We were attacked by Lannister men," Domeric explained as he approached. "Syrio and I slew the bulk of them, but Lady Arya was forced to defend herself, Sansa and Jeyne from another." Looking to her he wore a slight smile. "She did what she had to, and she did it well."
Arya flashed him a thankful smile while Robb frowned, pulling off her caps to run a hand through her hair and make her look at him. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Arya assured. "He deserved it. He wanted to…" She didn't need to finish for them to understand.
"Good," Robb told her.
"Robb!" Catelyn said with a click of her tongue, though she didn't disagree.
"I killed my first recently as well," he told her. "If you need to you can come to me, you understand?" Arya nodded and his gaze rose, stepping forward to shake the hands of the men who returned his sisters. "I am more grateful than I can ever say, my lords."
"It was nothing, Lord Robb," Dom said with a smile. "I know your father had hoped Master Syrio would remain as Lady Arya's sword instructor, which is why I made sure to bring him."
"My father truly let you train Arya?" Robb asked with a smirk while Catelyn frowned.
"He did, my lord," Syrio nodded. "Give her time and she will be your First Sword."
Robb glanced at Arya, who turned her gaze sheepishly at Robb's smile. "Okay," he said nodding, making her look up in shock as he turned to Syrio. "If these four trust you then so will I. We'll find a place for you and you may continue to instruct her."
Syrio gave a bow. "I thank you, my lord."
Robb looked to Dom. "Ser Domeric, if we could, I'd like to speak in private." At that he glanced toward Ghost, making Dom nod and follow him to his chambers. "Have you heard of what's happened in King's Landing?"
"It depends what you mean, Lord Robb."
"Please," Robb shook his head, closing the door. "You're Jon's friend and one of the few who know the truth. Well," Robb laughed, "one of the hundred now, I suppose."
"What do you mean?" Dom asked tilting his head. "The last I knew of Jon he'd ridden to bring justice to Gregor. I'd heard a few stories, but nothing solid, and they were all so different I couldn't tell what was true."
Robb told him what he had been told by Alyn's group. Dom's eyes darkened when he heard of Gregor cutting down Jon, but then flooded with confusion and disbelief when he spoke of Jon's apparent rebirth following his own dragon's birth.
"It can't be-"
"I saw it myself," Robb said with a laugh. "They held a chest which they kept it in and showed me the dragon. Bloodwing he called it. They sent it north, to his uncles at the Wall."
Dom sank into a chair shaking his head. "I should have been there."
Robb moved to sit across from him. "I wish I had been as well, but he's alive. He returned to King's Landing and word's come of his betrayal. It seems they believed him, though they had him scourge my father himself outside the Sept of Baelor before making him take the black. The fellowship apparently plan to kidnap him once he gets close enough."
"Good," Dom said with a solemn smile. "He's thinking. Using them. At least he'll have Sam and Loras."
"Not Loras," said Robb. When Dom looked to him he explained how the Tyrells were supporting Renly Baratheon's claim for the throne, Loras having fled with Renly the day Dom did.
Anger seemed odd on Dom's face as he squeezed the arm of his chair. It wasn't just anger, but the hurt of betrayal as he realized not only had Loras not told him of his intent to leave, but they may end up fighting against him. Dom knew early on Loras was the one Jon saw more as a rival, more of a par martially, yet he was as much a friend to Jon as Dom or Sam had been, and similarly a friend to Dom as Jon or Sam. If it came to the field, if they had to test themselves with true steel, Jon would be distraught at being forced to kill Loras. His only hope was that Jon would be kept in the city, far from the fighting.
Dom sighed, letting his anger freeze and fall away. "Renly's a fool. He'd be near as bad as Robert in some ways."
"But he is a fool with a large army backing him," Robb said with a frown. "That matters more than if he's ill suited for the crown."
Dom nodded in agreement before looking to Robb. "Jon isn't. He could be a good one."
"I imagine he will, but we need to help him get there. For now that means letting him play the part of traitor. My mother knows some of the truth, but the only others who I know as much or more are his Fellowship of Fire, and the pair that joined him and Samwell." Seeing Dom's questioning gaze he answered, "Thoros of Myr and Edric Dayne."
Dom laughed. "The fool, he asked Thoros of his fire god so he might use Dark Sister and claim her hilt a sign for the Lord of Light. And Edric thinks himself Jon's milk brother."
"Alyn thought them loyal."
"Doubtless every man there is after seeing him be brought back from death while having a dragon born upon his chest." Dom sat back shaking his head. With a sigh he wondered aloud, "What am I supposed to do now? I can't return to King's Landing and be at his side."
"You could help me," Robb suggested.
Dom arched his brow. After a moment of thought he asked. "What of my father?"
"He is distracting Tywin along the Green Fork," Robb answered. For a moment he hesitated before saying, "He doubted you would live but if you did said he intended to have you return to the Dreadfort. Now that you're here, I intend to have you council me as it seems you did Jon."
Going against his father had never been too tough for Dom, but others often seemed too intimidated to do so. The fact Robb would do so just to keep Dom there made the knight nod respectfully. "I will do what I can to see Jon sat safely upon the Iron Throne."
"I as well," Robb nodded. "Whatever it takes. We'll find a way."
Dom looked forward to aiding Robb, who Jon saw as a brother despite being his cousin by blood. He'd been surprised to find the Stark heir greeting him so readily, but they were united in their goal. A goal which suddenly became more complex as that night the council gathered. With Ned not there, without knowing of his impending kidnapping and freedom, and thinking Ned as likely to make it to them as he was to die of some Lannister treachery, the lords of the North named Robb their King in the North.
Robb looked to Dom as they knelt around him and shouted, "King in the North!"
He hadn't wanted this, but he couldn't tell them of Jon yet. So, much as Jon was forced to play the traitor, Robb would play the king. And when the time came Robb would accept his place as another King Who Knelt once Jon came to claim the North.