[The Kingswood]

Robert, Lancel, Renly, and Selmy walked through the forest. Robert in front, holding a spear, Lancel just behind him, holding wine, Renly behind Lancel, also holding a spear, and Selmy behind Renly.

Lancel Lannister approached Robert. "More wine, your Grace?" They all stopped walking as Robert took the wineskin from Lancel, taking a chug. He gave it back and they resumed walking, Lancel stepping back to be between Renly and Selmy.

"Now, what was I saying?"

"A simpler time." Renly reminded.

"It was. It was. You're too young to remember. Wasn't it simpler, Selmy?"

"It was, your Grace."

"The enemy was right in the open, vicious as you like, all but sending you a bloody invitation. Nothing like today."

"It sounds exhilarating." Renly said.

"Exhilarating, yes. Not as exhilarating as those balls and masquerades you like to throw." He teased his younger brother, letting out a hearty laugh as Renly swallowed his irritation. They continued to walk deeper in the woods. "You evrr fսck a Riverlands girl?"

"Once. I think." Renly replied.

"You think? I think you'd remember. Back in our day, you weren't a real man until you'd fսckеd one girl from each of the Seven Kingdoms and the Riverlands. We used to call it "making the eight."

Ser Selmy moved up to be in front of Lancel.

"Those were some lucky girls."

"You ever make the eight, Barristan?"

"I don't believe so, your Grace."

"Those were the days." Robert reminisced.

"Which days, exactly?" Renly stopped walking and Robert turned to him. "The ones where half of Westeros fought the other half and millions died?" The rest of the party stopped as well. "Or before that, when the Mad King slaughtered women and babies because the voices in his head told him they deserved it? Or way before that, when dragons burned whole cities to the ground?!"

"Easy, boy. You might be my brother, but you're speaking to the King."

"I suppose it was all rather heroic... If you were drunk enough and had some poor Riverlands whοre to shove your prick inside and make the eight." He slapped his spear to his other hand and walking off in anger, Robert looking after him.

Lancel walked up to Robert. "More wine, your Grace?"

Robert grabs the wine and took a long swig from it. He shoved it at Lancel's chest and walked away. Lancel looked back at Selmy before following after Robert. Selmy looked on at Lancel as he resumed walking.

[Red Keep - Throne Room]

Ned Stark was seated on the Iron Chair, with grand maester Pycelle seated on a chair to his left and Petyr Baelish to his right, sitting on a chair with a feather and papers on his lap.

He was currently listening to the report of a farmer.

"They burned most everything in the Riverlands. Our fields, our granaries." Some farmers behind him look down, sullenly. "Our homes. They took our women, then they took 'em again. When they was done, they butchered them as if they was animals. They covered our children in pitch, and lit them on fire " His voice croaked as he tries not to cry.

"Brigands, most likely." Pycelle suggested.

"They weren't thieves. They didn't steal nothing." One of the other farmers shook his head. "They even left something behind, your Grace."

"It's the King's Hand you're addressing," Pycelle said, causing Ned to look at him. "Not the King. The King is hunting."

The farmer threw a sack to the floor and lifted it from the bottom side, fish falling out onto the floor. People at court murmured and exclaimed, appalled at the sight.

This was clearly a direct response to his wife and her house in response to her abduction of Tyrion Lannister.

"Fish. The Sigil of House Tully." Baelish asked as he leant his head towards Ned Stark and whispered, "Isn't that your wife's house... Tully, my Lord Hand?"

"These men, were they flying a Sigil? A banner?"

"None, your... Hand. The one who was leading them... Taller by a foot than any man I've ever met, saw him cut the blacksmith in two, saw him take the head off a horse with a single swing of his sword."

Baelish, still leaning, said, "That sounds like someone we know. The Mountain."

"You're describing Ser Gregor Clegane." Ned told the man.

"Why should Ser Gregor turn brigand? The man is an anointed knight."

"I've heard him called Tywin Lannister's mad dog. I'm sure you have as well." Baelish told Pycelle before turning to Ned, lowering his voice. "Can you think of any reason the Lannisters might possibly have for being angry with your wife?" He stared at Ned, who stared before returning his attention to the farmer.

"If the Lannisters were to order attacks on villages under the King's protection, it would be..." Pycelle began.

"That would be almost as brazen as attacking the Hand of the King in the streets of the capital." Baelish commented.

Pycelle mumbled to himself. Petyr and Ned exchange stares before Ned turned to the farmer.

"I cannot give you back your homes or restore your dead to life, but perhaps I can give you justice, in the name of our King, Robert. Lord Beric Dondarrion." Berric stepped forward from the crowd. "You shall have the command. Assemble 100 men and ride to Ser Gregor's keep."

"As you command."

Ned stood with his stick, slightly struggling. "In the name of Robert of the House Baratheon, the first of his name, King of the Andals and the first men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and protector of the realm, I charge you to bring the King's justice to the false knight Gregor Clegane and all those who shared in his crimes. I denounce him and attaint him." Gasps, murmurs, and voices of outrage sounded amongst court. "I strip him of all ranks and titles, of all lands and holdings, and sentence him to death."

Maester Pycelle stood, outraged "My Lord. This is a drastic action. It would be better to wait for King Robert's return."

"Grand Maester Pycelle."

"My Lord."

"Send a raven to Casterly Rock. Inform Tywin Lannister that he has been summoned to Court to answer for the crimes of his bannermen. He will arrive within the fortnight or be branded an enemy of the crown and a traitor to the realm."

Ned left Pycelle standing. Petyr put the quill in his book, left them on the chair, and followed Ned. He walks with Ned, who was taking steps down from the Throne Stand.

Petyr Baelish spoke to Ned, voice lowered. "A bold move, my Lord, and admirable. But is it wise to yank the lion's tail? Tywin Lannister is the richest man in all the Seven Kingdoms." He stopped walking and raised his voice. "Gold wins wars, not soldiers."

Ned was now on the Throne Room floor. "Then how come Robert is King and not Tywin Lannister?" He walked away.

[The Hand Of The King Chambers]

Ned walked with his stick up to Sansa and Arya, both sitting on his bed.

"I'm sending you both back to Winterfell."

"What?" Sansa said.

"Listen." Ned told them.

"What about Joffrey?" She asked.

"Are you dying because of your leg? Is that why you're sending us home?" Arya joined in the questioning.

"What? No."

"Please, father." Sansa pleaded.

"You can't. I've got my lessons with Syrio. I'm finally getting good."

"This isn't a punishment. I want you back for your own safety."

"Can we take Syrio back with us?"

"Who cares about your stupid dancing teacher? I can't go. I'm supposed to marry Prince Joffrey. I love him and I'm meant to be his Queen and have his babies."

"Seven hells." Arya muttered.

"When you're old enough, I'll make you a match with someone who's worthy of you, someone brave, gentle and strong..."

"I don't want someone brave, gentle and strong. I want him!"

Arya smiled and lightly chuckled. Ned, doing his best not to follow suit, looked down.

"He'll be the greatest King that ever was, a golden lion, and I'll give him sons with beautiful blond hair. "

Ned looked up, pondering at that statement.

"The lion's not his sigil, idiot. He's a stag, like his father."

"He is not. He's nothing like that old drunk King."

Ned shooed his daughters away. "Go on girls, get your Septa and start packing your things." He turned and walked to his desk.

"Wait!"

Arya, deciding to listen for once, grabbed Sansa's arm and pulled her towards the door. "Come on."

"But it's not fair!"

Arya opened the door and exited with Sansa, who quickly turned her head back at Ned before being pulled out of the room.

Ned sat on a chair and opened a book on his desk, The Lineages of The Great Houses of Westeros. He turned a few pages before stopping at House Baratheon.

"Lord Orys Baratheon, black of hair. Axel Baratheon, black of hair. Lyonel Baratheon, black of hair. Steffon Baratheon, black of hair." He turned a page "Robert Baratheon, black of hair. Joffrey Baratheon... Golden-hair." He looks up with a look of realization as he closed the book.

He had found the reason Jon Arryn has been searching for and speaking to Robert's bastards.

He was ready to leave, but, first, there was one more thing he had to do.

[King's Landing - Gardens]

Ned was sitting by himself in the gardens and appeared to be waiting for someone. Cersei then entered, walking up to him.

"You're in pain."

Ned used his cane to slowly stand.

"I've had worse, my lady."

"Perhaps it's time to go home. The South doesn't seem to agree with you."

"I know the truth Jon Arryn died for."

"Do you, Lord Stark? Is that why you called me here, to pose me riddles?"

Ned noticed the bruise still on Cersei's cheek.

"Has he done this before?" He indicated to the bruise.

"Jaime would have killed him. My brother is worth a thousand of your friend."

"Your brother....or your lover?"

Cersei realized the implication he was making and smirked, causing Ned to realize he was right.

"The Targaryens wed brothers and sisters for 300 years to keep bloodlines pure. Jaime and I are more than brother and sister. We shared a womb. We came into this world together. We belong together." Cersei spoke proudly.

"My son saw you with him.

There was a long pause as Cersei regarded Ned shrewdly.

"Do you love your children?" Cersei asked.

"With all my heart."

"No more than I love mine."

"And all but your eldest are Jaime's."

Cersei laughed. "Thank the Gods. In the rare event that Robert leaves his whores for long enough to stumble drunk into my bed, I finish him off in other ways. In the morning, he doesn't remember."

"You've alwys hated him..."

"Hated him? I worshiped him! Every girl in the Seven Kingdoms dreamed of him, but he was mine by oath. And when I finally saw him on our wedding day in the Sept of Baelor, lean and fierce and black-bearded, it was the happiest moment of my life. Then that night he crawled on top of me, stinking of wine and did what he did, what little he could do, and whispered in my ear, "Lyanna". Your sister was a corpse and I was a living girl and he loved her more than me."

"When the King returns from his hunt, I'll tell him the truth. You must be gone by then - you and your children. I will not have their blood on my hands. Go as far away as you can, with as many men as you can. Because wherever you go, Robert's wrath will follow you."

"And what of my wrath, Lord Stark? You should have taken the realm for yourself. Jaime told me about the day King's Landing fell: he was sitting in the Iron Throne and you made him give it up. All you needed to do was climb the steps yourself. Such a sad mistake."

"I've made many mistakes in my life, but that wasn't one of them."

"Oh, but it was. When you play the game of thrones, you win or you die. There is no middle ground."

Cersei left, Ned watching her go, a wary look on his face.

[Red Keep]

Later that day, Ned was walking down a hallway with Kormed and Tomard.

"Your Captain of the Guards now, Kormed. I need you to ensure that -"

"Ned!" He heard someone call.

Renly suddenly appeared from the staircase behind them. He appeared to be out of breath as he approached them.

"It's Robert. We were hunting - a boar -"

Renly ran off, Ned looking shocked, followed after him, Tomard and Kormed following suit.

[Princess Morgana's Chambers]

The princess had found herself unable to relax upon her father's departure to the Kingswood.

Instead, she occupied herself pacing, and waiting for news of his return.

She heard footsteps nearing her door.

"Father?" she called out, hoping against hope that it was him who had come to see her. But the figure outside her door did not answer. Instead, it was one of her mother's ladies-in-waiting, carrying a candle and looking worried.

"My lady, I have some news," the woman said, rushing into the room. "It is about your father."

Morgana sat up straight, her heart pounding in her chest. "What is it? Is he injured?"

The lady nodded solemnly. "Yes, my lady. He was hurt during a hunt today. A wild boar attacked him, and he is badly wounded."

Morgana felt a cold dread creeping over her. This was exactly what had happened in her dreams. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes as she realized that her worst fears were coming true.

She rushed to her father's chambers, hoping against hope that she could reach him before it was too late. As she ran down the winding staircases and through the twisting corridors, she could hear the sounds of chaos and confusion echoing throughout the castle.

[King Robert's Chambers]

Robert was lying in bed, Joffrey sitting beside him, appearing devastated while gripping his hand. Cersei, Grand Maestar Pycelle, and Barristan Selmy were also in the room. Barristan's armor had blood smeared on it.

"I should have spent more time with you, shown you how to be a man. I was nevr meant to be a father." Robert told Joffrey.

Renly led Ned into the room.

"Go on. You don't want to see this."

Joffrey left, albeit reluctantly.

Morgana felt a cold dread creeping up her spine as she approached the bedside. Her father's injuries were severe, and she knew that he might not survive. But then, something struck her as strange. This was exactly how her dream had played out just last night. She had seen her father being attacked by a wild animal, and now it had come true.

She glanced around the room, searching for any sign of recognition or understanding from the others. But they all seemed too caught up in their own grief to notice her confusion.

"I warned you all," she whispered to herself, remembering the words she had spoken to her family just hours ago. "I told you that this would happen if we didn't listen to me."

But no one had listened. No one had believed her. And now, her father lay dying because of it.

Morgana took a deep breath and forced herself to focus on her father's condition. She knew that she needed to stay strong for him, even though her heart was breaking into a million pieces.

"We need to get him to a healer," she said firmly, trying to keep her voice steady. "We can still save him."

Her mother just shook her head. "It's too late for that," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "There's nothing anyone can do."

Morgana felt a surge of anger mixed with her grief. How could they give up so easily? Didn't they understand that her father was the king, and he deserved better than this?

But she pushed those thoughts aside and knelt beside the bed, taking her father's hand in hers. She knew that he was slipping away, and she needed to be there for him in these final moments.

As she held his hand, she couldn't help but wonder if this was all some kind of twisted punishment for her disobedience. Had she really been so wrong to trust her own instincts and try to warn them? Or was this simply the price they paid for ignoring her warnings?

Either way, Morgana knew that she would nevr forget this moment, and the pain and regret that came with it.

Ned approached Robert.

"My fault..." He laughed weakly. "Too much wine. Missed my thrust."

Ned lifted up Robert's blanket and saw a massive bloody gash across his torso.

"It stinks. It stinks like death. Don't think I can't smell it."

Cersei looked on as Ned covered Robert back up.

"Morgana," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I am proud of you, my daughter. You are strong and wise beyond your years. Promise me you'll take care of yourself, and our kingdom, after I'm gone..."

Tears streamed down Morgana's face as she nodded vigorously, unable to speak through her sobs. She knew that her father was dying, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. All she could do was hold his hand and comfort him until he met the Stranger.

"I...I'm sorry. I shouldn't have ignored your warnings. You were right, I should have listened."

Morgana's eyes filled with more tears. "It's not your fault, Father. It was just an accident."

But deep inside, she knew that wasn't true. This was more than just an accident. This was fate, playing out exactly as she had seen it in her dreams. And she knew that her father would nevr recover from this wound.

Robert laughed again. "I paid the bastard back, Ned. I drove my knife right through his brain. You ask them if I didn't. Ask them!" Robert coughed a few times. "I want the funeral feast to be the biggest the Kingdoms ever saw. And I want everyone to taste the boar that got me." He told Ned before turning to the others. "Now leave us, the lot of you. I need to talk to Ned."

"Robert, my sweet -" Cersei began.

"Out, all of you!" Robert coughed again.

Everyone else left, Cersei and Pycelle doing so somewhat more reluctantly than the others, but doing so nonetheless, leaving Ned alone with Robert.

Ned sits down at Robert's bedside. "You damned fool..."

"Paper and ink on the table, write down what I say."

Ned grabbed the paper and quill and began writing.

"In the name of Robert of the House Baratheon, first of..." you know how it goes. Fill in the damn titles."

Ned did as he was told.

"I hereby command Eddard of House Stark" - titles, titles - "to serve as Lord Regent and Protector of the Realm upon my death to rule in my stead, until my son Joffrey comes of age"."

Ned hesitated, before writing "my rightful heir" instead.

"Give it over."

Ned passed it to him, Robert putting his signature down on the letter before handing it back.

"Give it to the council after I'm dead. At least they'll say I did this right, this one thing. You'll rule now. You'll hate it worse than I did, but you'll do it well." A solemn paused passed as Ned regarded his friend sadly. "The girl - Daenerys. You were right. Varys, Littlefinger, my brother - worthless. No one to tell me "no" but you. Only you. Let her live. Stop it, if it's not too late." Robert told him.

"I will."

"And my son....help him, Ned. Make him better than me."

"I'll....I'll do everything I can to honor your memory."

"My memory?" He laughed feebly. "King Robert Baratheon, murdered by a pig..." He laughed feebly again, Ned watching him sadly. "I was a horrible father. Not just to Morgana, but to all my children." He sighed. "Give me something for the pain and let me die."

Ned left the chamber, which was being guarded by two other Kingsguards. Barristan, Varys, Pycelle, and Renly were all waiting expectantly for him.

"Give him milk of the poppy." Ned told Pycelle.

Pycelle re-entered Robert's chambers, carrying a small bottle of milk of the poppy, Renly going in after him

"He was reeling from the wine. He commanded us to step aside, but....I failed him..." Barristan said, looking crestfallen.

Ned shook his head. "No man could have protected him from himself.

"I wonder, Ser Barristan, who gave the king this wine?" Varys asked.

"His squire, from the king's own skin."

"His squire....the Lannister boy?" Ned asked, suspicious. He had seen firsthand the man's poor treatment by the King.

Barristan nodded, looking confused.

"Such a dutiful boy to make sure his Grace did not lack refreshment. I do hope the poor lad does not blame himself." Varys commented.

"His Grace has had a change of heart concerning Daenerys Targaryen. Whatever arrangements you made, unmake them. At once." Ned told Varys.

"I'm afraid those birds have flown. The girl is likely dead already." Varys replied.

Ned looked disappointed, and walked off.