bound_by_honor (bound_by_honor) wrote in doorslogs, @ 2012-06-19 22:56:00 |
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Entry tags: | daenerys targaryen, door: a song of ice and fire, eddard stark |
WHO Eddard & Daenerys
WHAT Getting yelled at in person. Awesome.
WHEN Directly after this
WHERE The Great Hall, Winterfell
WARNINGS None!
Winterfell was his home and he was hesitant to allow her within its stone walls. He certainly wasn’t going to invite her into the Godswood, as that was a sacred place and whatever it was she wished to say to him in person would not be appropriate in that setting. She would have to settle for the Great Room, where she would certainly be warmer despite her protests. Instead of stepping through the door like she requested, he simply opened it for Kitane. If Daenerys did not want the girl to know that he resided within her keeper, then he would comply. Ned was not looking forward to speaking with the spitfire Khaleesi but if this was what she needed, then he owed it to her. There were a great many things that he owed to others. He owed it to Sansa to find her and keep her safe; to Robb to counsel him in the finer points of war and politics; to Jon to tell him of his mother; to Arya to take some of that anger and violence from her and soothe the pains his actions caused her. There were so many more, but Ned could not bear to think of them now as he waited for Daenerys Targaryen and her wrath. He could only hope that her dragons were still babes and that she had the sense not to risk seeing if animals could cross. He stood tall in front of the door, dressed in his boiled leather and a sword sheathed at his waist. Ned did not take for granted who had access to Winterfell and he was preparing for the day Theon Greyjoy was fool enough to step into his realm. That child, his own ward, would meet his sword if he had anything to say of it. He had no intention of raising his sword, or a hand, against the white blond hair of the Dothraki Queen. She was still a child, one who had been through a great deal, but a child all the same. Her brother had whispered lies in her ear from the moment of her birth and filled her with hate. That hate would blind her and see her meet death far too early. Ned would not stand by, not if there was something he could do to stop it. He owed her. She was right in that he hadn’t been able to protect her, despite what he believed his best efforts. Robert was too mad, too angry, when it came to the Targaryens. It was unfortunate that the young woman was caught in the aftermath of a war that had nothing to do with her. Ned waited for the door to shut behind her before bowing his head. “Khaleesi,” he greeted, the word unfamiliar on his tongue. It was her title, however unfamiliar, and that was what he would call her. The word sounded strange on his tongue, foreign as it was to a Westerosi. That didn't stop her from coming through, her short stature changing by a bare inch, but it was her hair and eyes that changed the most. Ebony faded to silver blond, and bleached blue to passionate violet. She was a barely of a height to come up to his chest, dressed only in the same light lavender silk dress that she had worn in Qarth, but she was as unafraid as she had been when she was half a world away. "What of your actions before you became the Hand?" She demanded as she stepped through, her small hands balled into fists. What she would have given for her dragons to be larger, but only Drogon was large enough to ride and she would not risk him. One did not need to be a dragonslayer to hurt them now, Meereen had proved that on her flight from the city. Another time she would bring her dragons to these shores, and they would not come in a ship, but she would be riding one as her ancestors once had. "When he was hunting my brother and I down? What of then? Where were your words to save me then?" She demanded, stalking through the cool hall towards him. "How much did your words help my baby nephew, Aegon? His sister Rhaenys?" It was better to finally get to yell at him as she wanted, but it wasn't hate that twisted her words, they were far too passionate for that. Hate was as cold as the frozen North and fire had purified her long ago. Her words and the passion behind them were a stark contrast to her appearance. The Daenerys Targaryen of his time was not much older than Sansa but after seeing little Arya grow it did not startle him to see her in her older teenage years. He wondered how many years she had aged truly since his death, but now was not the time to ask such a question. When she stepped through into Winterfell, Ned took a step back, keeping a respectful distance between them in order to assuage any fears she might have had for her safety. Theodore would sooner have Ned fall on his own sword than raise steel against the Khaleesi and Ned would not intentionally harm Theodore’s ward. There was no denying her beauty, dressed as she was, but the anger in her words reminded him of Robert, ironically enough. It was a good thing the Lord of Winterfell had such control over his features or he might have smiled at the thought. “My actions only held intent to save my sister and then to avenge my father and brother. Robert would never have allowed Rhaegar to live after kidnapping Lyanna just as I would not have stopped fighting against the Mad King after what he did to Brandon and my father.” Ned spoke evenly and plainly with her. There was no reason at all to raise his voice to match hers. He did not flinch as she stalked towards him, did not take a step back or move. He would stand his ground in his home and she would not best him in this. “The Lannisters moved without counsel against the Red Keep. Cowards that they are, Tywin Lannister waited until the battle was all but won to take King’s Landing. The Mad King would have burned the entire city to the ground with wildfire had Jaime Lannister not killed him. As for your niece and nephew, that was on the orders of Tywin Lannister, again without counsel. Honorable men do not kill women and children.” He paused there, but knowing she would likely bring up the attempts on her life, he addressed those as well. “I counseled against taking action toward you but Robert still felt the loss of Lyanna very deeply when news of your wedding came. The khalasar you inherited could have posed a slight problem had you crossed the Narrow Sea but I assured him such a thing could not happen and thought the matter concluded. News of your pregnancy inspired an even greater terror and although I very strongly advised against it, there were others in the Small Counsel that overruled me.” Still, he would not tell her that he had given up his role as Hand over the issue. She'd already heard his side of the story when it came to Rhaegar and Lyanna. Viserys had told her otherwise, led her to believe they had run away to elope and she had believed him. Why shouldn't she? He was her brother and it wasn't unknown for the men of her House to take multiple wives if they so desired, whether they were Targaryens or not. Even Ser Jorah had made the passing reference to her taking more than one husband. None of that calmed her, nor the words that continued to come out of his mouth. "Honorable men do not send others to bloody their hands with the lives of women and children." She continued to advance on him, uncaring if he gave her quarter or not. What he did not give, if she wanted it, she would take. "You condemn your false king with your own words!" She was tired of hearing about poor Robert Baratheon, so in love with Lyanna that he tore her kingdom apart. Her brother's kingdom, her father's kingdom, and her father's father's kingdom. Yet she knew that whatever condemnation that Eddard gave the Usurper, he would still follow that damn man. It kept her rage burning bright and as soon as she was close enough, before the thought had ever been fully considered, she was slapping him hard enough that his beard stung her palm. "While you were advising your gracious Usurper, it was Ser Jorah and his steel that were protecting my life! It wasn't your words, it wasn't your advice, it wasn't your resignation that saved me and it wasn't that man drowning in his cups either!" “Very few Lannisters are honorable men. I know of only one,” he replied calmly, referring to Tyrion. Ned didn’t think for a moment that she would take kindly to the apparent life changes Jaime Lannister had been through. Even still, Ned was not quite at the point where he could forgive the man for pushing Bran from the ledge, causing him to break his legs. Still, he could understand her anger. Her entire family was taken from her and she was forced to live on the kindness of strangers. Viserys had been called the Beggar King for a reason and he could only imagine what her life had been like before the television series or book started her story. He wasn’t far enough through the books to speak confidently on her experiences, particularly after reading the first few chapters that centered around the Khaleesi. He saw her hand raise, knew it would find purchase against his cheek, and did not flinch from the blow. She needed an outlet for her anger, lest it control her, but he would not let her strike him again. “He was my brother, more so than Brandon was in some ways. I did not always agree with everything Robert did, but I stood by him because I loved him and I would have done anything to keep him safe.” His eyes darkened considerably when she mentioned Mormont. “You will not strike me again, Khaleesi,” Ned warned, though his hands were nowhere near his sword. He would not hurt her, but he would certainly stop her if she tried. “I am aware of Ser Jorah’s affection for you and that is why he raised steel to protect you. I regret that there was need of it, but Robert held nothing against you save your blood. It does not excuse him, but tell me this. How far would you go to avenge the death of the man you loved above all else?” It was, as Theodore would say, a low blow, but he knew how far she’d gone for Drogo. Would it really be so hard for her to understand why he stood behind Robert? It was the challenge, the mention of Ser Jorah's affection, and then the backhanded implication of what she would do for Drogo that incensed her further. "I would not kill children," she spat at him. The northern man could say all he wished of how she wouldn't strike him again, but it wouldn't stop her from trying. Only this time, the only thing that connected was his hand to her wrist, keeping her small hand away from his face. She no longer felt the cool air of the hall as she raised her other hand, only to have that wrist gripped as well. "How dare you?" Dany snarled, nearly as wild as her dragons in her anger. "Ser Jorah was sworn to me." Had he loved her then? She did not know and pushed forward, trying to get her hands closer to the Usurper's dog. When that failed, she tried wrenching them back and out of his grip. “Neither would I,” he insisted, just a small amount of emotion finally showing through. She was questioning his honor and that was unacceptable in his book. Her hand moved to fly again and he caught her wrist deftly, holding her firmly but not hurting her. It hardly mattered that Theodore was telling him not to hurt her for fear of hurting Kitane as well. Ned was a man of honor and the only woman he would ever harm held the name Cersei Lannister. Daenerys Targaryen, despite whatever she might have believed, had nothing to fear from him. Her other hand lifted and he stopped her again without pause. The counterargument of Ser Jorah Mormont was pathetic. “Sworn to you, and yet it did nothing to stop him from informing back to Varys on your whereabouts. He wanted a way back to Westeros and he did not trust that you would get him there.” These were hard truths, but she would have to hear them sooner or later and she already hated him. She kept pushing, but he held her firm and the moment she tried to pull away, he gripped just a little bit tighter. “Stop,” he commanded rather forcefully, as if he was telling Arya and Sansa to stop bickering. “I will release your hands if you agree not to strike me again.” She already knew the truth about Ser Jorah Mormont. The nature of his betrayal and the reasons why, but hearing it again, from this man, was nothing short of a cruel reminder of the way her bear had failed her and the deeply buried truth of how she had failed him. He'd never known that she intended to take him back home and return him to the island that he had loved. Dany wouldn't be there though, as much as she loved him, as much as he meant to her, she was never going to be his woman. None of that eased the pain of his treason. No agreement came from her once those words passed his lips, and she only struggled harder, a scream working up and out of her throat as she struggled against his hands. There was no letting go and with the scream finally breaking free, she pushed hard against him. He easily had half a hundred pounds on her, if not more, and that didn't include the armor. Yet it didn't stop her from forcing her slight weight against his, fingers outstretched to reach anything they could. He expected her to argue further but he had hoped that she would give up on physically attacking him. She was so much smaller than him and surely she could see how pointless it was to continue struggling against him. Unfortunately, he was wrong about that and he wondered if he’d gone too far with what he said. Surely she knew about the truth of Mormont’s allegiances. Her scream distracted him from his thoughts for fear that he’d actually started to hurt her but it took all of a moment to realize that he wasn’t. She was just that angry. “Khaleesi,” he said firmly, using her title with a slightly chastising tone in an attempt to make her remember herself. “Stop this immediately.” He did not want to hurt her, but he wasn’t going to let her strike him. She was acting like a child, reminding him just slightly of Arya, though his youngest daughter would never raise a hand to him. Not many people would and even fewer of them were people he could not strike back. It was rage, pure and true that burned in her now and if he wouldn't move, she would move him. Grunting softly, her teeth bared at him, she stepped back and wrenched her wrists from his grip. If she had bruises later, so be it, but at least she wasn't attempting to hit him again. Dany could feel her tears hot in her eyes, but she refused to let them be seen, especially by him. He would not have that satisfaction from her. She was the dragon. "Do not speak to me of how you tried to protect me again. Until it is your steel saving me from my enemies, your words are nothing but dust in the wind and useless to me!" Yelling at him face to face was a great deal more relieving than yelling at her journal. As soon as she moved to pull away, Ned released her. He kept his eyes on her, fully prepared for her to come at him again, but she kept her distance. The tension in him stayed, unwilling and unable to let his guard down around her after how she physically and verbally assaulted him in his own home. It appeared that he had overestimated her ability to remain level headed when faced with those she did not like. He would not allow her here again. “If that is how you feel Khaleesi, you should leave.” The words were a sharp reminder, both of her place and where she was. Dany was not daunted by a Northern man though, not even the ones with ice in their veins and steel in their hearts. "Words are wind and you know it as well as I," she said to him, already stepping back, her violet gaze linked with his colder one. It wasn't until she was nearly at the door that she finally turned and opened it, only to shut it with enough force that the frame rattled. Rage still burned too hotly within her to return to Kitane's world. Jamming her key into the lock, she opened the heavy door and stepped through once more to her side of the known world. |