Game of Thrones: Ghost of the Uchiha

< Eddard Stark POV >

I've been thinking of what I would feel when I arrived at King's Landing, but even witnessing it from a distance, I have already started to feel a dreading tension in the air.

As our army strides closer to the city, fires and smoke were seen rising high obscuring even the sunlight from our perspective, the cries for help and anguish of the fallen were being heard by the thousands, blocking out any sounds of birds in the sky. 

Feeling grim, I start to get a better understanding of that man Tywin Lannister.

The fact that he could allow such devastation to unfold frightened me. I could only imagine my pain if this was Winterfell.

I understand that my thoughts may sound naive if heard by a second person, but I have always honoured the idea of fighting for what you believe in and protecting your family, in turn, your enemies should respect your determination and at least give you a proper soldier's death.

This should be a battle against one army to another and leave the innocent out of it.

This belief is what has driven me through every battle, and every hardship, and has allowed me to be an excellent leader in the North.

However, what I have laid my eyes upon was not a war anymore. This was pure murder, an unnecessary slaughter.

Marching here, we had already planned for a siege against the Targaryen and Lannister army, With our timely scout reports we were well aware of the Lannister army being stationed outside King's Landing, and then the start of the attack. 

Those Lannister soldiers ransacking King's Landing were no longer in my eyes. They were monsters. Slaughtering and pillaging with no honour that would bind them.

This only proved to me that the North was more suited for me, and not down here in the South.

Subconsciously, I touch my stark sigil.

'Honor.'

That word can be said to be my foundation. The very pillar that supports everything I am. Growing up on stories of those honourable knights in shining armor all the while being respected and loved by the people. This.. this is what I want to become.

I want for when people talk about me they will subjectively place me in the category of trustworthy and honourable.

Without honour, who can or will want to trust you? Who would follow you? I have to keep reminding myself this constantly for I am a man of my word, and even if others look down on me for wearing my words and actions on my chest, I will never change who I am.

For I know should the need ever arise for me to call my banners for war, those who answer will follow me will not be from fear, but out of loyalty and respect.

As we continue to get closer to the city, my hands clutching my reigns tighten, clearly showing my unease and tension of what might be seen.

I glanced to my left and riding beside me was my best friend Robert. His face looks serious and stern, but it's hard to tell what's truly going through his mind at this moment.

For a man who started this rebellion, Sometimes I wonder what he is thinking, ever since the killing of Rhaegar Targaryen he seemed happy and arrogant at first, claiming next he would bash the King's chest in, but as we slowly approached and the lesser news about Lyanna coming in, he seemed dazed. 

Now I wonder if he feels remorse or maybe the same way I felt just now or maybe he would be happy to see the Targaryens suffering. I hope we share our thoughts.

Perhaps I am just deluding myself. I shake my head in sadness, Perhaps I want to believe Robert is more honourable than he truly is.

After all, we were both raised as sons of Jon Arryn, and his teachings of duty and honour were ingrained in us from the start, but when it came down to my sister Lyanna, Robert turned into something else, at least a major fact for the start of this rebellion was from his uprising after Rhaegar took my sister.

I shake my head, as if this will help me shake these thoughts out of my head, finally keeping my head turned looking at Robert.

"Looks like Tywin Lannister beat us to it," I say, breaking the silence as we ride.

"Aye, Ned," Robert responds with a sneaky smirk, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. "Looks like I'll have to give that Lion a good pet when we get there. How should I reward him?" He chuckles loudly, I could understand that this was sarcasm.

"Robert," I begin, my voice heavy with unease, "we still haven't found Lyanna. I can't shake this feeling of emptiness. I'm worried… worried that they might kill her out of anger or..." I point to the sacking, and the hidden underlining meaning in my final word."Revenge."

I can barely bring myself to imagine what horrors my sister might be enduring because of us... because of our so-called treason.

'Though I don't see it as treason. We were forced into this.' I tell myself.

'Lyanna, please be safe.' I again pray, 

'sorry for being such an incompetent brother who couldn't even protect you.'

The words repeat in my heart, a quiet mantra as I try to find solace.

Robert's smirk fades after hearing me say this, especially the word Lyanna. He looked me in the eye, his tone unusually serious. "I promise you, Ned, we will find her. We'll find Lyanna. Otherwise… what was the point of all of this?" as he laughs in misery at himself.

Then he gestures broadly, first toward the burning city of King's Landing and then back to the army following behind us, nearly 38,000 soldiers marching under the flags of rebellion. Banners of different colours and sigils, representing Houses from the North, the Vale, the Riverlands, and more. United in this uprising.

I nod quietly, though I'm not sure if I share his confidence. I've been chasing rumours of Lyanna's whereabouts endlessly, and most point south to Dorne, somewhere in the Red Mountains.

My eyes wander back to the burning city ahead.

'I hope this all ends soon. Once it does, I'll lead my closest men from the North to find her. To bring her back home.' Unwavering eyes and a clear goal in my heart these words come inadvertently to my mind.

Arriving at the gates, I noticed that the Targaryen banner had already been pulled down replaced by a bright yellow flag, with a Stag in the middle.

Tywin Lannister although taking the city with his army, clearly knew of our upcoming arrival claiming this victory without losing a single man from our army.

If he wanted to win the hearts of these men who did not have to fight with a chance of death. He will have succeeded.

Seeing the Stag banners on the city walls worked wonders for Robert. His grin was reaching from ear to ear unabashed, and full of pride. He was never one to hide his emotions, for better or worse...

His ability to wear his heart on his sleeve was a double-edged sword, but it was part of what made him my dearest friend and brother.

As our horses trotted into the city, the streets told the story of what had transpired there.

Scorched and broken into buildings, garbage and messes everywhere, and the corpses... so many corpses... we watched as they were being dragged away by Lannister forces as a clean up.

My eyes would linger on the women we passed. Not because I was interested in them, no. They all had similarities, they all bore bruises and marks, their expressions hollow and distant.

I felt a rage simmer within me, but I forced myself to hold it back.

'Not Yet' I tell myself.

Not until I saw Tywin. Naturally, I would blame these acts on the man who gave the command.

Just like my own motto 'A man who passes the sentence should swing the sword'

The sound of hoofbeats beside me drew my attention, and I felt a gentle touch on my shoulder.

I turned to see Jon Arryn, my father in all the ways that truly mattered. Fostering me since the age of eight, I truly saw him as a second father figure. He has been guiding and helping me a lot through life. His gaze followed mine, taking in the same horrors that filled the streets. He said nothing, only shaking his head gently as if to caution me.

With no words spoken I was unsure what to think, no I simply didn't understand.

Was he telling me to suppress my emotions? To accept this as the nature of war? How could I? Or perhaps he meant that now was not the time to act and that it would be unbecoming of a lord to show such outrage in public.

Maybe I was wrong about his meaning. Maybe I was grasping at straws to make sense of it all.

Either way, my emotions grew harder to contain with every second getting closer to the Red Keep and every new horror we passed.

My resolve nearly shattered when I heard the cries of a young woman. Her voice cut through the sound of marching, and the moving of steel clanking, I heard pleading filled with grief.

She was seen clutching the bodies of her husband and child, her face bruised, her skin exposed, and covered in dirt and ash from the burning building behind her.

I closed my eyes tightly, telling myself not to imagine the horrors she had endured.

She looked around the same name day as my sister Lyanna, once this thought sprouted I could only start to imagine the horrors of my sister suffering similar cruelties under Rhaegar's hands.

These disgusting acts had finally overwhelmed me. My heart ached with the weight of it all, and I couldn't move forward. I didn't want to move at all.

I stopped my horse.

The sound of the march behind me slowed, and I realized my actions had brought Robert and the others to a halt as well. I dismounted without a word, ignoring the questioning looks from those around me.

My focus was on the grieving woman before me. She didn't flinch at my approach, too consumed by her loss to notice or care. Her arms tightened around the lifeless forms of her loved ones, her gaze unfocused.

I felt a ripple of water appear in my eyes, but quickly tried to pull them back.

'She isn't Lyanna' I keep telling myself, even though I was now substituting her due to my emotions going awry.

Before my thoughts could keep up with my actions.

I pulled off my cloak, a thick, finely made garment bearing the Stark sigil. It was valuable, but I didn't care. I draped it over her shoulders, hoping to give her some small measure of comfort, some sliver of dignity.

She froze at my touch as if her body was shivering under the weight of the cloak. When her eyes met mine, they were filled with fear and desperation, a silent plea for help I knew couldn't give.

What could I do for her, truly? Perhaps my gesture was meaningless in the grand scheme of things.

Perhaps it wouldn't ease her pain or change her circumstances.

But it was what I could do. It was what kept me grounded in honour and nobility, these ideals I clung to, the ideals that separated me from the monsters who had done this to her.

As I look towards the fogged sky blocking out the blue, and the sun blurred from the smog floating in above our heads, I reminisce those fabled tales that always spoke of noble knights offering hope in the darkest of times. Maybe this was my moment to try, even if it was just for her.

"Ned..." Robert's voice called out to me, but I didn't want to hear it. Without responding, I climbed back onto my horse and spurred my horse forward, letting it pick up speed as I rode for the Red Keep.

I needed answers.

Tywin Lannister had to answer for this.

I wasn't naive enough to question his decision to sack the city as war is brutal, and victory often demands unspeakable choice.

I also know that just because I couldn't do it, doesn't mean others can't.

However, that still doesn't tell me why hadn't he stopped this. Of all men, Tywin had the power to prevent such atrocities. A single order from him could have controlled his soldiers to only kill the enemy soldiers and then control the city, yet he chose to let this happen.

Perhaps this is what they mean when they say a wolf and a lion cannot coexist.

I dismounted outside the Red Keep and rushed through its gates, my boots clicking against the stone floors as I made my way to the throne room.

Soldiers bearing the crimson and gold of House Lannister stood idly in the halls, laughing amongst each other or cleaning up their messes from the sacking. Having blocked my path. I shoved past them, and each step closer to the throne room fueled my anger and frustration.

Taking a deep breath in front of the throne room doors, I push the doors open.

I was left with a chilling scene.

At the far end of the room, I saw Jaime Lannister sitting on the Iron Throne, his expression smug and unbothered.

At his feet lay the bodies of five Kingsguard, a civilian, and the man who had started this war. King Aerys II, lifeless and soaked in blood.

"Kingslayer!" The word erupted from my mouth before I could stop it, filled with all the disdain I felt.

"Have you forsaken your vows? Have you forgotten your oath?" I demanded, my voice echoing through the chamber. My hand instinctively went to Ice, my greatsword, as I glared at Jaime.

The Lannister guards around the room tensed, hands moving to the hilts of their swords. I could feel the heat of their stares, but before I could act, a stern voice cut through the tension.

"You have no right to pass judgment, Lord Eddard Stark."

I turned to see Tywin Lannister entering the throne room, his presence commanding as ever.

Behind him stood a group of battle-hardened soldiers, their armour bearing fresh marks from the sacking of the city.

Trying to catch up closely behind them were the people I arrived with. Robert and Jon Arryn.

"Jaime Lannister saved this kingdom from a tyrant," Tywin continued, his tone as cold and sharp as steel. "If you're looking for someone to blame for all of this, blame Aerys." he points to the lifeless king's body, finally ending his sentence with "My son did what was necessary."

I turned to Robert, seeking some sign of agreement with my actions. Instead, he looked... conflicted. "Ned," he said carefully, "let's gather everyone and discuss what comes next. There's much to decide, a new king needs to be enacted to even have a trial for Jamie Lannister first of all, sec-."

"I have no interest in politics, Robert." My voice was interrupting. "All I care about is finding my sister." followed by a calm tone. 

"You can't keep running, Ned!" Robert roared. "YOU'RE AS MUCH A PART OF THIS AS THE REST OF US!."

"I'll leave the crown to you," I quip back "I never wanted it." finishing my words in a cold-saddening tone.

Without waiting for a response, I stormed out of the throne room. Tywin's voice followed me, not forgetting how I tried to pass judgment on his son. "A wolf in a lion's den. You'd best run back to the North where you belong."

Stopping to clench my fists, I loosen them and continue outside.

Outside, I found my loyal companions waiting: Howland Reed, Lord Willam Dustin, Ser Mark Ryswell, Ethan Glover, Martyn Cassel, and Theo Wull.

Each man had pledged himself to House Stark, and each would follow me from the respect I gave them in return and the oaths they pledged, a real pledge that they would follow, unlike a certain Kingslayer.

As we prepared to ride, a child suddenly darted out from the nearby alleyway, nearly colliding with my horse. Having to pull the reigns in a stop, which almost nearly resulted in me falling off my horse.

I could only stare blankly as he nimbly stuffed a scroll into my hands before disappearing back into the shadowy alleys. Breaking the simple red stamped seal, I found a single, chilling message:

"Lyanna Stark rests at the Tower of Joy, surrounded by Ser Arthur Dayne, Ser Gerold Hightower, and Ser Oswell Whent."

My heart sank, I felt a chill on my neck. Was this a trap? The Kingsguard were formidable, and three of them together especially these well-known named ones, not those fakes in the throne room.

I heard that Kingslayer was good at fighting based on rumours, but compared to someone like Arthur Dayne, he would never have been able to kill Aerys if he had been present.

This letter was no coincidence. But I simply couldn't afford to ignore it. Folding the letter, I slipped it into my pouch.

"We ride south," I told my men. "To Dorne."

As our horses thundered down the road, my thoughts were consumed by a single vow of determination.

'Lyanna my dear sister, I will rescue you.'