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May 284, a month of grand celebrations for the Seven Kingdoms. It had been just a year since Robert Baratheon had taken the Iron Throne, a year in which peace and abundance had blessed the kingdom. May was also the anniversary of the King who was at present known as Robert the First of His Name, King of the seven kingdoms and protector of the realm. To pay tribute to these events, the royal family organized a splendid festival whose festivities lasted seven days and seven nights. As you would expect, great families from all over the kingdom came to the festival. Ceremonial drums and trumpets signaled the arrival of each member in order to properly honor their presence. Banquets and balls were planned. Fireworks and forbidden pleasures were also in attendance.
To tell the truth, the young king was seeking saucy entertainment at these parties. His marriage to Cercei Lannister was stable by virtue of their respective titles but fragile emotionally. Indeed, the king and queen barely spoke to each other. No children had yet blessed this political union and given the king's infrequent visits to the queen's chamber, none would arrive promptly. The king counted on the divine right which had been passed on to him at the time of his coronation to make this festival a reason for leisure and luxury. No one would dare or even be able to oppose this behavior because no one dared question their king... Let me tell you that not even the deities would intervene in this dreadful tale.
The castle was quickly adorned in anticipation of its incoming guests. The Red Keep looked like a rising sun from the hundreds of mirrors that had been hung on it. The suites had been arranged so that no two were alike, and every corridor, staircase, and balcony was lavishly decorated with a thousand flowers imported from the Reach. Throughout the day, the hooves of hundreds of horses had been heard entering the courtyard, all dragging the highest names with them: Arryns, Tyrells, Martells, and countless others.
Each time, Robert went out to formally greet them. But it was with impatience that he waited to see the Stark banner enter the courtyard because of all the guests, Eddard Stark was the most expected. Stark was many things to Robert. He was a duke of the court, he was warden of the north and he was Lord of Winterfell. But above all, Stark was his oldest friend. They had been raised together in the Vale with Lord Arryn and Robert thought highly of the man even if the years and responsibilities had separated the two.
The first lunch was therefore spent without the presence of his friend. This did not, however, hinder the king's enthusiasm as he delighted his audience with lively political discussions. The Baratheon brothers stirred up the assembly with their rivalries while Tywin Lannister enlisted nobles into his administration. At the other end of the table, Queen Cercei conversed suspiciously with other ladies whose reputations were as dubious as the kingdom's coffers. It wasn't until late in the afternoon when Robert was engaged in a sword tournament, that a valet informed him of the arrival of new guests, including the Starks and Tullys.
A few moments later, Robert saw Eddard marching toward him on the battlefield with a slight smile."Ned!" Robert exclaimed hurrying in direction of his friend. "Your Grace." Ned bowed when they faced each other. "Oh please, none of that from you." A laugh similar to the sound of a wounded boar exploded in the king's throat, at least it was being sincere. They left the arena and settled in a small side garden that offered peace and privacy, a rarity in the red keep.
"So, tell me about it. How heavy is the crown?" The king sighed. "The crown would be fine if there were several of us bearing it. But I'm handling it well enough with strength and fear. The Red Keep however makes me think of a lion pit with all these Lannisters, there’s no one you can trust here. But you don’t want me to bore you with all of this horseshit." He turned around and called for a valet nearby. To bring more wine of course. "I was amazed to learn a lone wolf such as yourself had found a woman. A southern moreover."
Stark had married the eldest daughter of Lord Tully of Riverrun last summer. This hasty engagement was also due to political alliances. Indeed, the seven kingdoms did not leave anything to hazard. Everything was a matter of strategies and personal benefits. However, it was said the two newlyweds had found happiness in this marriage, even though the foundations of this union were built on ruins and grief. Catelyn Tully would have been married to Brandon Stark today had he not died last year, leaving his brother Eddard with all his titles, his lands, and his bride. This is why the surprising blossoming of tenderness among them had caused a stir as far away as King’s Landing. The king's apparent and blatant envy of Eddard's refreshing wedding tales was understandable but highly inappropriate. Ned Stark soon realized this and asked to retire to rest from the long journey. The evening dinner was going to be a grand affair.
Scarcely an hour later the ball began with a sumptuous banquet with several courses and appetizers, fine wines from all over the world, and thrilled guests. The moon was already high in the sky when the people started to get up to converse, stroll and mostly dance. An orchestra was waltzing the couples and providing rhythm to the chatting. King Robert didn't waste a second of his night, he would talk to all the ladies in the room, charming them by praising his power and wealth. More than one of them had already been the focus of his lust. Amidst this folly, he did not linger at any moment on the bruised and hateful look that his wife wore. He did not care either about the reputation it got him.
It was during a heated argument with Stark that the King spotted a sublime creature turning in his direction. What one could first notice was the copper-red of her hair and how it crashed over her bare shoulders. The curls surrounded a flawless milky complexion, shaped by a pair of strong, arched eyebrows which eased down gently on crystal blue water eyes. Each of her graceful gestures was evidence of a keen mind and a strong curiosity. A carver couldn't have made cheekbones better. When she broke into a beguiling smile, the room felt lighter, brighter. It felt like a horse fall, like a plunge into freezing waters. His gaze descended upon the swan neck covered in light curls and small pearls, everyone would have felt a burning sensation at the thought of the softness it would feel like to have their lips here. She cheekily conversed in a voice as sweet as any songbird. This vision that bordered on indecency ravished the King’s soul.
"Tell me Stark, do you know her? Who is this lovely little lady?" Robert said sternly. "Sire King, she is my wife, Catelyn."
"You are happier than I am to have such a beautiful wife. If you granted it to me, I would gladly take care of her."
Eddard Stark backed away, shuddering with dread. He fixed his gaze on the king, anxiously examining his expression, it was devoid of any sort of mockery. On the contrary, his stare was direct and unwavering.
"Pardon me?" Ned muttered unsure of his choice of words.
"You heard me, Stark. She will be mine."
"But Robert... Listen, you are - " He was interrupted abruptly by Robert. "Your king. I am your king. And you will obey me."
After several seconds that seemed to last a lifetime, Stark seemed to realize how adamant Robert was and how tricky it was to persuade him to change his mind. He was well aware his friend had been fed with tales of mighty kings wielding their divine right to their heart’s content. He could bring up the unbreakable vows of marriage, but old and new gods were their witnesses, and gods answered to the King on earth. He could mention his long-lasting friendship with Robert, but then again, they were both children and this era was gone. He could also mention Queen Cercei, but she did not exist in Robert’s world. Some numerous things may well be specified, but none seemed great enough to persuade the King.
Ned looked longingly at his wife, so innocently unaware of the threat that hung over her. It would shatter his heart to consider that he could lose this person in whom he had learned to confide. But especially a person whom he had learned to love. They hadn't known each other for a year, but already Ned was obviously yearning for all the moments that the king wished to rip away from him. He thought of the projects they had dreamed of together in the darkness of their room. Wishes of travel, for Winterfell, but mostly wishes of having many children together.
"Were you not king, I would seek revenge." He swallowed down his pride, his love through clenched teeth. "But as you are the king, to your obedience."
"Ned, do not get upset. You made the wisest decision for your will is worth nothing. You know well enough that refusing would only jeopardize yourself and your wife’s honor. This is your duty to me."
Transfixed and unable to move, Ned witnessed what used to be his friend advance to Catelyn and engage in a discussion with the deftness of a predator. In the face of the king's infinite power, Ned was nothing more than a man, and like everyone else in that ballroom, he had to be obedient. Soon Lady Catelyn would also be confronted with this power. Just a few moments went by until Lady Catelyn's face broke down, losing all the glory that had been there just a few moments earlier. Her gaze sought out her husband, whom she knew to be close by. No sound came out of her mouth, it was as if she had been petrified on the spot, in the middle of this waltz, of this crowd, of this celebration. King Robert kept whispering things in her ear, probably praising the benefits of living in the Red Keep, but probably and mostly, the benefits of being the King’s first concubine.
The news spread like wildfire, you could overhear people whispering among themselves in every corner. What a scandal. It's embarrassing. Oh, I can understand his decision. Does he even have the right? Poor girl. The queen must be sick with jealousy. Every party needs its scandal. This one came much sooner than anyone thought.
The hustle and bustle of the gossip made it impossible for Stark and his wife to reach each other until this miserable evening was over. It was only thanks to the crowds wandering the hallways and up to their room that they managed to get closer together unnoticed. They were distant, and neither of them dared to utter a word. At last Lady Catelyn mustered the strength to look at her husband, and trembling, she fell into his arms. The universe, ashamed to part lovers, fell quiet for a brief moment. Only the weak light of the moon ventured to give some clarity to the pair.
"Our time is running out, Cat."
"I know." She pressed her forehead against his, intertwining their fingers together. "Ned, did we mean anything?" She murmured trembling. Eyes locked together, Lord Stark leaned in to press a light kiss that grew into a desperate embrace. The king had shown no mercy to the two of them and if he desired Catelyn for only himself, then he would leave at the break of dawn, unable to witness such sight. In addition, a valet had notified Catelyn moments earlier that her newest suite, which was adjacent to the king's, was fully prepared and awaiting her that very evening. The embraces became more hectic and replaced everything they wished to say to each other but had no time to do so.
Farewell my beloved
Farewell my happiness
Farewell to my hope.
By the first light of the second day, the horses were ready to leave and Stark would return to Winterfell with a small party. As he was about to mount his horse, a footman hastened in his direction. "My lord! My lord! It’s the Lady Catelyn!"
Following their midnight encounter, Catelyn dutifully made her way to the room that had been prepared for her. It was sumptuous and befitting a royal chamber. A large square bed stood in the middle and was covered with white linens. At the four corners of the bed, large bouquets of white lilies gave off a stunning fragrance. After King Robert’s declaration, the queen ordered bouquets to be prepared to welcome Lady Catelyn in her new room. Everything truly looked regal.
Lady Catelyn, overcome by exhaustion, slipped into the sheets and resolved to find some sleep in hopes of forgetting the dreadful events. In a matter of hours, her life had taken a completely new path. She had no idea how a simple man like Robert had the power to break vows taken before the Gods. Maybe what they said in Winterfell was true, she didn't belong to the North. But at least she'd known she mattered to the man who mattered the most to her. As sleep drew near, she sensed an icy chill seizing her heart. Her face felt like it was marble stiff and her lips had lost their colors. Catelyn understood despite the numbness that the scent of the flowers was poisonous. And so, as she drifted to what would be an eternal slumber, a swift thought crossed her mind. The King was doomed to fall to Ned's vengeful wrath.
It is said that death is the end of all evils. However, the cruelty and savagery of this assassination led as expected to a great tragedy. The silent and faithful valet I am could have prevented the war that opposed great families and regions against one another. Witness to the latest day, I alone could have prevented the bloody retribution that was destined to happen. But I, Petyr Baelish, am but a pawn in the shadows, and my checkmate shall be lethal.