AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hello guys! :) Thank you for reading this. I'm looking forward to read your comments and know if I should or not continue this fanfiction. I don't write fanfics in years! And it's the first time I'm writing in English (I'm portuguese) so I'm a little nervous. If you like the Prologue, I would really, really, really, appreciate your feedback. Thank you.

GLORY FOR TRAITORS

by

Eduardo Aranha

PROLOGUE

"I am Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Hand of the King," his hard, harsh voice carried across the plaza, "and I come before you to confess my treason in the sight of gods and men."

All of his time at King's Landing had come to this. He had tried, but in the end, he had failed. And even now, hearing himself saying those words – a cost he had to pay to save his daughter's life – he actually felt like a traitor.

Eddard Stark was betraying the realm by letting a bastard sit on the Iron Throne.

"I betrayed the faith of my king and the trust of my friend, Robert," Ned lied, and it sickened him. "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." I failed you, my friend, "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."

The first stone came sailing out of the crowd and smashed into his forehead.

This is how they will remember me.

Blood, warm and slick, ran down his face from a deep gash across his forehead. More stones followed. One struck the goldcloak to his left. In the pulpit where the king stood beside his mother and Sansa, two of the Kingsguard stepped to protect the royal family with their shields.

Only when the crowd calmed down did the High Septon kneel before Joffrey and his mother. Eddard didn't look at the priest.

"As we sin, so do we suffer," intoned the fat septon, in a deep, swelling voice. "This man has confessed his crimes in the sight of gods and men, here in this holy place. The gods are just, yet Blessed Baelor taught us that they are also merciful. What shall be done with this traitor, Your Grace?"

A thousand voices were screaming. Traitor, they called him. Kill him. Cut his head off. Make him pay.

His eyes darted off toward the pulpit. Not looking for the boy king, but for Sansa. There she was, smiling. She almost looked happy. As if she didn't know that everyone she knew and trusted had been slaughtered; Fat Tom and Septa Mordane, all the other Stark guards and the steward, Vayon Poole. Like as not, Vayon's daughter and Sansa's friend, Jeyne, was also dead. No, she couldn't have known that. She kept on smiling as if everything was perfect.

And there was no sign of Arya.

He refused to believe that his little wild girl, so much like Lyanna, had died in the bloodshed at the Tower of the Hand. In his mind he kept imagining the girl lost in the city, running from the guards in red and gold, that little sword of her right at her waist.

When Joffrey waved to greet the crowd, Eddard could not look away from the boy. The sight of Robert's crown sitting atop Joffrey's golden curls made him sick.

"My mother bids me to let Lord Eddard take the black, and my Lady Sansa begged mercy for her father." The bastard smiled with a wicked gleam in his eye. "But they have soft hearts of women. So long as I am your king, treason shall never go unpunished." The jeers started again. "Ser Ilyn, bring me his head!"

Even before he could understand what those words meant, Eddard sought Sansa in the chaos. The smile had disappeared on the girl's lips. All the confidence was gone, her childhood dreams crushed with just a few short words. Eddard could not hear her among the cries that filled the plaza but the movement of her lips was clear enough. Joffrey, please. Stop. Stop it! But the boy king was not listening. With a dangerous glint in his eyes, the king was actually ignoring everyone.

The Queen was whispering something in his ear, speaking quickly, her brow furrowed with worry. Lord Varys was near too, a grave look on his face. At that moment, Eddard knew it was the end. When you play the game of thrones, you win or you die, Cersei had said to him. He should have known that being allowed to live, as Varys had promised he would be, was another lie.

Ser Ilyn approached with his boots gleaming in the autumn sun. Ice, the Valyrian steel greatsword that had belonged to House Stark for centuries, was in his hands. They are beheading me with my own sword, Ned realized. And that was not the most hurtful thought that crossed his mind at the moment: it was the fact that Ice would probably never reach the hands of the future Lord of Winterfell.

Oh, Robb. His heir, ravaging the Riverlands, caught up in the mess started by the Lannisters. He could only hope that the boy could and would make peace with the Throne. Cat would advise him to do so, even if she wanted revenge more than anyone else. How could she support his decision to go to war? He was only fourteen years old. She would never allow him.

They are still children, all of them.

What would happen to Arya? Most likely the gold cloaks would find her. She would be confined to a cell next to Sansa and both of them used to negotiate peace with Robb. And what would the younger boys think? He almost could see the despair in Bran and Rickon's eyes, believing their father was beheaded like a traitor. And there is Jon, of course. He will never forgive me.

Since Varys had told him that the crown would allow him to take the black, he had found little consolation in that idea: at least he would see the boy. He could even tell him about his mother since Robert was now dead.

But not anymore. Eddard was going to die and take the truth about Jon to the grave.

So lost in his last thoughts, he didn't noticed that the crowd had grown silent. Ser Ilyn was right next to him, the smoky blade of Ice gleaming at the sun. Gulping, he looked over his shoulder.

Something was happening in the pulpit.

The Queen was definitely not happy. Her blonde hair was disheveled and she had an unusual glint in her eyes. Fear. Digging her nails into Joffrey's arm, she kept whispering something to him. Varys was right behind her, more pale than usual. After listening, the king answered aggressively. For a second or two, Eddard thought that he might actually strike his mother. What would that look like in the eyes of the city? But the Queen apparently knew how to control her son.

"Ser Ilyn, hold." Cersei ordered, her eyes still locked with Joffrey's. The executioner stopped right in front of Eddard, ready to swing the sword.

Someone in the crowd protested, yelling, "Kill him and be done with it!", but no one else encouraged that thought. All of them were still looking at Cersei Lannister.

The queen then made a gesture to Lord Varys and the eunuch stepped up and showed something to the king. A little bit of parchment. Whatever it said, it was enough to change Joffrey's mind. With his face twisted with anger, the king yelled for the entire plaza to hear.

"Ser Ilyn, your services will be not necessary after all. As my mother just reminded me, sometimes showing mercy to a criminal is a worse punishment than death. And shedding blood so early in my reign is not a good omen for the future." The boy didn't mean one word, Ned knew it. His eyes fell on Eddard Stark one last time, filled with something more than hate. Madness. "Someone take then traitor back to the blacks cells. He leaves for the Wall tomorrow."

At that moment, Sansa fainted right beside the Queen, taken by all the emotions of the day. Sandor Clegane, with his new white cloak, caught her before she hit the ground.

Two guards grabbed a surprised Ned Stark by the shoulders. He could barely believe it.

He had escaped death by a whisker.

Ned Stark waited in the dark.

He knew someone would come for him soon. Maybe Varys, again masked as Rugen the Gaoler. Grand Maester Pycelle was also a possibility. The old man liked to poke his nose in where it was not needed, and was Cersei Lannister's creature. And even the wicked Littlefinger could make an appearance to gloat of his victory.

But who he really needed to see was Sansa before leaving to the North. The girl would soon be living all alone in a den of lions. And she has to find Arya, he thought. He knew the girls had never been able to stand each other, but they were sisters. As long as they were at each others' side, they would not be alone. If Sansa's marriage could not be prevented, then the girl would need someone strong beside her. What better choice than a Stark who could actually use a sword? But she will not marry that monster. A part of him still believed - hoped, even - that the boy king would call off the wedding.

Later that day, when a guard brought him some bread and water, Ned realized for the first time how lucky he was to be alive. He saw everything with different eyes now, as if he had been reborn. The moldy bread tasted like one of Winterfell's pies and the spoiled water better than any Dornish wine he had ever tried. He was alive, bound to go to the Wall, but alive. He had to believe that something waited for him in the future. He could still make something of his life beside Jon and Benjen. Maybe in time he could even receive leave from the Lord Commander to visit Winterfell for a night or two.

No, Castle Black will be my home soon. He remembered. Not Winterfell.

It would not be easy to adjust to that new life. Not that he was disturbed by the fact that he was no longer Lord of Winterfell. In truth, he believed Robb would do well ruling the North. The Umbers, the Karstarks, the Mormonts, the Boltons and all the other Houses would stand behind him. Not to mention Catelyn and Maester Luwin, always ready to give him guidance, just as they'd given it to Ned when he needed it most.

No, what was worrying him was the vows he would have to make to the Night's Watch. Taking the black meant leaving his family behind. How could he do that knowing that all of them were so close to him?

But all of us are alive, he said to himself. That is all that matters.

A light flicked outside his cell, making him flinch. Covering his eyes with his hand, Ned looked towards the door as it opened. A guard appeared, holding a torch and, standing right behind him was the Queen Regent, Cersei Lannister herself. The red dress she was wearing at Baelor's had been taken off in favour of a grey one. Still managing to maintain a regal look, Cersei was clutching a handkerchief under her nose to keep away the smell of piss and shit.

"Your Grace, pardon me if I don't bow." he said, when she stopped right in front of him. He tugged the chains so they could rattle. "I'm not in a good place to do so."

"I don't think that will be necessary, Lord Stark." she replied coldly, looking around with disgust in her eyes. Ned smirked in the shadows, though he was slightly confused. Why had she come down all the way from Maegor's Holdfast? Why hadn't she sent one of her lackeys?

"I suppose you know why I'm here." she continued, as if reading his mind. Even from his place on the wet and soiled ground Eddard could almost taste the smell of roses coming from her, so pungent was her perfume. Clearly nervous, the guard stood in the corridor, holding the torch and awaiting orders.

"I confess I don't, Your Grace." he admitted. "But now that you are here, I have a plea to make. You must allow one more act of mercy before I make my way to the North. Let me see my daughter."

"Which one?" she interrupted calmly, though Ned sensed the victory in her tone.

So they have found Arya.

"Your savage daughter was found at Flea Bottom this afternoon by one of Varys' little birds." Cersei continued, as if she could read Ned's mind, clearly enjoying herself. "It seems the girl was with a man of the Night's Watch, Yoren, I think his name was. Apparently the fool was trying to smuggle her out of the city with other men bound for the Wall. I suppose he was going to try to sell the girl to your wife as soon as he reached Riverrun. But the City Watch stopped him in time. The girl is safe in the Red Keep and the man was beheaded for treason not one hour ago."

It seems the king has already forgotten that nonsense about not shedding blood.

"How is Arya?" Ned managed to ask.

"Strong enough to kick one of my guards and attempt an escape." she said disdainfully. "You have a true little wolf there, Lord Stark, I have to give you that."

Yes, that sounds like Arya.

"A wolf that would do better in the North, don't you agree?"

The chains rattled in the dark as Ned moved, lifting his head to look at the Queen. Was she being honest or just cruel?

He clenched his hands. How much could a man take?

"Yes, I agree." he knew that the Queen wanted to hear those words. Make him beg for his daughter.

After making the handkerchief disappear gracefully into one of the sleeves of her dress, Cersei clasped her hands and looked at him seriously.

"The girl can go home."

Surprisingly, she seemed honest. "But only if you help the Crown first."

The game continues.

"I'm in chains, Your Grace. I think I will not be able to do much for the Crown."

"Oh, but you can," insisted Cersei, once again with a calm voice. "My father says that some wars can be won with quills and ravens instead of swords and spears. I think we can work together to prove that, don't you think?"

"You want me to write to my son." he realized, before understanding that it could not be just that.

"Sometimes our children need some guidance." she said, clearly referring to her quarrel with Joffrey at the steps of the Great Sept. "My son, for instance, doesn't know yet how to rule this kingdom and …"

"He doesn't know how to play the game of thrones," Ned interrupted, bolder than he expected to be. "The same game that can only end in death or victory, as you once told me."

It sounds like I'm threatening the King.

"Are you trying to say that you want to die, Lord Stark?" Cersei asked coldly. "I saved your life today. Don't make me regret that decision."

"You saved your son's life." Eddard corrected her. "If I had died today, your son would have brought war to Westeros. The fury of the Starks, of the Tullys and maybe even that of the Vale. In less than a year, Joffrey would have been king of a broken kingdom … this is if he managed to keep the Iron Throne until then. You know that. And that's why you are here. You need me to secure the realm for your son. Your father is losing against Robb in the Riverlands. The bloodshed has no end in sight."

Even in the shadows, he could see the smirk on Cersei's lips, though she wore it like a mask to hide her fear that he was right.

"Looks like you have learned a thing or another about this game." she didn't give him time to answer. "And yes, you are right. Your son is at this moment marching on King's Landing. I don't know what he hopes to achieve by raiding our walls and causing mayhem in the Riverlands … but that is now unnecessary. You've confessed your crime and will soon take the black. No one else has to die. You can convince your son to lay down his weapons, swear his loyalty to my son and return to that freezing hellhole you call home. As a gesture of goodwill, the King will take Lady Sansa as his wife and will allow Lady Arya to go home."

The king will take Sansa as his wife.

"Your son still wants to marry Sansa?" He swallowed the bitter taste of those words before continuing. "The daughter of a traitor?"

"He appreciates the girl, Lord Stark." replied Cersei, although she surely didn't truly believe that. "And Robert wanted this marriage to happen. Baratheons and Starks united at last."

Robert was a fool. And your son is no Baratheon.

"My wife will want to take home both our daughters." Yes, Catelyn would want that. "I think I could convince Robb to agree to this marriage but it would help if Sansa could return to Winterfell for a year or two. We - they - need to mend their wounds. Time spent together. As a family"

He had almost forgot that he wouldn't be at Winterfell with them. He would not guide Robb in the hard times, would not embrace Sansa every time she cried in fear of the loveless marriage she was bound to, would not watch Arya in her dance lessons ever again, see Bran recovering from his fall, watch Rickon grow until he was as tall as Ned. And then there was Cat. The thought of her in the glass gardens caused him so much pain. The thought of her alone caused him even more. A southern lady frozen in an eternal winter. The tears pricked behind his eyes. She didn't deserve that.

He bowed his head to hide any sign of weakness.

"Take Sansa back to the North? Joffrey will never allow it." Cersei replied after considering the matter for a few seconds. "Sansa has to remain in King's Landing."

Not only to marry Joffrey and become Queen, but to make sure that Robb behaves.

That was the true purpose of that marriage. There was nothing to be done. Sansa had to pay for all her family, and the crown on her head would not change that. Whatever he said now would not change that. If that couldn't be avoided, Ned could at least try to do one last thing for his eldest daughter.

"I understand," he said, remembering how Theon Greyjoy was still a hostage in his care for the crimes committed by his father. "And eventually Robb will understand too. But for this to work out, you will have to meet his terms."

"And what terms do you have in mind?"

"First of all, the Iron Throne has to handle this mess in the Riverlands with justice. I know that my wife should not have taken the Imp as prisoner. That was a mistake. But it was not her who started pillaging all those villages in the Trident. You know who it was."

Gregor Clegane.

"Robb and the Riverlords will demand justice." Ned pressed. "And the Iron Throne must give them that to restore peace to the Seven Kingdoms. Real justice."

"I will do my best to make that work, Lord Stark." Cersei was clearly not comfortable with that. Even if they didn't acknowledge it, they both knew that her father was the mastermind behind the attacks. Would Joffrey really punish his grandfather? It would never happen but at the least Eddard had to try. "I will make sure that the culprits receive what they deserve once your son and my father put down their swords."

Promises for Cersei Lannister were only words but for now it would be enough. He had more important demands in mind.

"If my daughter is to be Queen, she will need her mother's support." Ned continued. It would be a relief for both Sansa and Catelyn. He was depriving the other children of their mother, but they were all safe behind the walls of Winterfell. Sansa wasn't, and would never be again.

"Lady Catelyn will be welcomed at court. I think Lord Baelish will be pleased to see her."

No, he will not. Ned would make sure Catelyn knew the part Littlefinger had played in his downfall.

"My son will also send an escort with my wife." Eddard continued, looking the Queen in the eye. He could almost hear the Umbers, the Karstarks and the Mormonts fighting each other for a place in the Queensguard. "Those men shall later be installed at court to grant protection to their future queen."

Cersei wouldn't like that. Warriors from the North roaming through the Red Keep? That would certainly be hard to swallow.

"There is no need for that. The Kingsguard will protect Sansa …"

They will not protect her from the wicked mind of your son.

"Robb will not rest until he knows that his sister and mother are guarded by his best men, Your Grace. Would you rest if your brother was at the hands of your enemy?"

Somehow, the Queen seemed disturbed by that answer. She stood silent for a few seconds and when she spoke, her voice trembled.

"Has Lord Varys paid you a visit today?"

"I'm afraid not."

That was an odd question. More strange than that was the fear glinting again at Cersei's eyes.

"My brother is currently a hostage of your son," Cersei revealed, making an effort to keep her voice strong. "Lord Varys received a message right before you were taken to the Great Sept. It seems there was a battle three nights ago, at the Whispering Wood. Your son's army defeated the troops of my father and it seems that they have captured Jaime."

So she is not doing this for the realm, he finally understood. The queen was not acting out of mercy or thinking about power moves. She has saved me to save her brother. To save her lover.

"You have nothing to fear," Ned assured her, playing her game. "I will write to Robb when given a chance and make sure the Kingslayer is treated honorably. And you can have your brother back very soon, I promise. But only if you agree with all the terms I proposed."

He considered insisting on calling off Sansa's wedding but Cersei would not go so far to save her brother. Giving away Sansa would be too dangerous for the crown. They needed a hostage of their own to secure peace.

"I will present your terms to my son," she answered, without a shred of shame. Her incestuous relationship was condemned by gods and men but there she was, proudly proclaiming her love for the man with whom she had shared a womb. "And you will write to your son. I have arranged a small room for you in the Red Keep. You will be there within the hour and there you can find anything you need to write to the Young Wolf. Then, at dawn, you will make your way to the North. Lady Arya will accompany you until you reach Winterfell."

"Very well, Your Grace."

He still hated that woman and how viciously she had plotted to destroy Robert's legacy. But a part of him admired her; she reminded him of Catelyn. Maybe a little more cruel, but deep down acting only out of love for her family.

"Then there is nothing more to say, Lord Stark. I wish you safe travels."

When she turned to leave, Ned stretched an arm, catching the hem of her dress. Annoyed, Cersei turned to look at him one last time.

"You were wrong, Your Grace. There is a middle ground in this bloody game after all."

The queen actually laughed at him.

"No, there isn't," she looked at him from top to bottom, his clothes stained and all covered in piss and shit.

"You don't need to die to be dead."