(A/N: I fixed the timeline a bit, and corrected a mistake or two, it's two months instead of two weeks now)
[Two moons later]
Nine weeks...
That was how much time had gone by in what seemed like many decades. Tension was building, with news of Lyanna Stark having been abducted by the prince Rhaegar, whom Edric had taken to dubbing "Mad Prince" ever since that moment.
And Eddard, while not keeping to himself, was growing even quieter than before, if that was possible. The burden of worry about the well-being of his younger sister was heavy upon him, and Edric, while having no brother or sister which would help him relate to this situation, in this life or the last, still clearly understood the sheer weight of his plight.
Not only that, but knew had reached his ear, and no doubt his father's as well a moon ago, about Brandon having been imprisoned by the king.
The man had been supposed to marry Caitlyn of house Tully in Riverrun, but had impulsively left the castle to confront the monarch upon hearing of Lyanna's kidnapping.
His father was no doubt in Kingslanding pleading with the Tyrant, and Edric hoped in his heart that no harm would come to his friend's family.
Eddard watched as Robert and Edric had a brawl, trying to lose themselves in the moment. This time, Edric was winning and his sheer size and strength had become a real thorn in the Storm lords side.
*Caw* *Caw*
Both immediately stopped and looked up, following Ned's movement. Ravens were leaving one of the towers, one after the other in rapid succession.
"What's going on?" Ned asked, although to no one in particular.
He was right to inquire, and with the already tense atmosphere that had begun to settle in after the tourney of Harrenhal, this event seemed to bode I'll for the future.
"Lord Robert! Eddard Stark!" one called out to them. It was a steward coming out of the walls of the Eyrie. "Lord Arryn has requested your presence! He has urgent news to deliver!" he added while running towards them.
Both named parties looked towards their friend almost apologetically.
"What are you looking at me for?" Edric asked. "Don't cry for me, I'm simply a knight."
Ned smiled lightly, "We'll meet this evenin' I suppose."
Robert nodded before mocking him, "You didn't beat me haha." He slapped his shoulder. "You're lucky he came, or I would have won."
Edric simply crossed his arms as he watched the Baratheon laugh at him, albeit playfully and then spoke, smiling, "I'll wait for you here."
Both nodded and left along with the steward, who most likely led them to Jon's chambers.
Edric sat on the ground and watched the other knights spar. He had finished more than a dozen armors in these moons, and had started another this very day. He had of course, maintained the standard he had set at first without it being too luxurious or beautiful like the later armors he had crafted for Ser Kevan and lord Lannister. A plain coat of dark plate was all that was demanded, and that was all he provided, with maybe the sigil of the house Arryn being the only decoration he provided.
He sighed.
Westeros was becoming dangerous, he wouldn't even be surprised if a civil war broke out, with all that had happened. How could the Mad King and the Dragon Prince or Mad Prince as he liked to call him, antagonize the North, the West, the Stormlands, Dorne, and possibly even the East given how close Ned and Robert were to Lord Arryn. Only the Reach hadn't been offended.
Not yet at least, Edric thought. And the Iron born weren't worth thinking about due to how little their impact was in the grand scheme of things.
The Smith rose up from the stone floor of the courtyard before heading to challenge one of the knights. As he did so, he was struck with a thought.
Who's side would he take if war broke out?
No—that was a foolish question. Of course he would take his friends' side, and try to provide advice about tactics and strategies that he learned during his history course. The question instead, was what would he do if they won or lost.
If they won then that would be great, but if they lost, he would most likely flee to Essos and head to Qohor to continue his trade there.
Since those were settled, it was time to think about what his role in the war would be. He couldn't be a mere foot soldier as he was now a knight, a wealthy one at that.
But he definitely wouldn't have any command whatsoever of the army as a whole. Perhaps he would lead a small squad, perhaps he would give advice in the war council—.
"Oi, Edric, what are you standing there doing nothing for?" a familiar voice resonated in his ears. It was Ser Vardis speaking.
"Ah, Vardis, didn't see you there," Edric said, turning to him. "How have you been? Constant fighting against the mountain clans hasn't worn you out yet I hope?" he jested.
"While I'll never be known as Mountain's Bane, I am still skilled enough to overwhelm some scattered bandits. In my humble opinion, it is not their fighting prowess that inspires fear, but their unpredictability—how they disappear from one place and appear in another." the wielder of the first dark steel sword responded, wisely educating any would be listeners.
"True." Edric admitted. "Do you mind a small brawl? Just to get our blood rearing." He asked.
"I'd be a fool to accept. You'll break me with that big body of yours." He rejected him, dimming the giant's mood. "Ask another."
Few—if anyone disagreed with that statement. Edric could ask however and whomever he wanted in the courtyard, but the answer would remain the same.
Edric, while slightly saddened by the rejection, didn't think too much of it deep down. He understood it in fact. Only Robert was mad enough to challenge the still growing monster that was he.
He simply left to sit back down where he sat in the beginning, thinking about the gold coins he had earned previously, until a certain wolf and stag were back before him, hours later, everyone having left.
Their faces were solemn, and immediately, Edric understood, whatever had been discussed between the members of three great houses had been very serious.
———
*Crash*
A cup had been thrown, and its delectable contents wasted upon the stony floor, the sound it had made being audible.
Eddard's features had narrowed. His hands were clasped underneath his chin, as if he were in prayer, with sweat glistening and trickling down from his forehead, catching the amber colored light of the flames in the furnace.
"Your brother… and father… were executed?"
Edric was in disbelief. Mad truly wasn't suited enough to paint the picture 'insane' described the current King of Westeros far better and even then.
"'Executed' doesn't do their suffering justice, I tell you! Richard was burnt alive by wildfire when he demanded trial by combat and Brandon strangled himself trying to reach a sword to save both of them. Aerys was laughing all the while it took place!!"
"All that because they wanted Lyanna back. " Ned muttered, a single tear threatening to fall from his now cold grey eyes.
"He called for Jon to send him our heads, mine and Ned's. As if he hasn't taken enough!?"
"But Jon refused right?" Edric inquired.
Neither responded for a moment. Letting the weight of the situation settle in further, until it booted their speech out of them.
"Of course," Robert answered finally, confirming Edric's thoughts. The old falcon cared much for these men, as if they were his own sons. "The Ravens we heard before being called; that was him calling his banners." he stopped and Ned finished for him.
"We are now in open rebellion against the Iron Throne."