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298 AC
Kingslanding
Ned Stark Pov
The capital of the seven kingdoms stank of feces, sweat, rot and perfume.
'He smelt it the moment they rode through the city's gates. He had known cities before, if Winterfell could be called one or perhaps white harbor or even Bolton's own developing coastal town, but this place was as he once first saw it more than a decade ago, was a beast unto itself. Its air smelt of the sea and sewage, even spilt wine, this was the heartbeat of thousands upon thousands of small folk bundled together on cobbled streets and apartments .
What a mess it was.
He had not desired the office of the Hand. He had never wanted to leave the lands of the North, nor his sons, nor Winterfell's quiet peace. Yet duty and the command of a king, rarely concerned itself with the desires of a lesser man.
The iron throne as he remembered it was the same ugly crude large thing it had been. Neither majestic nor noble. It was sharp angled, cruel iron jutted out and points that looked eager to slice flesh from bone were always exposed.
The throne reflected the city well enough. That he could agree on and Robert whenever he was present if ever he was, would slouch in it as if it were merely a comfortable chair.
Even the small council chambers had seemed to be worse than flea bottom when it came to discussing the everyday workings of a kingdom. Lies and deceptions he couldn't call out for what they were. Dishonorable deeds and false promises.
Petyr Baelish with his sly smiles, Varys with his soft voice and silk robes. Renly preening, Pycelle droning on like an ancient crow. He felt no kinship with any of them. Perhaps he could've with stannis if the middle Baratheob was present.
And most times when they spoke he merely listened , adding his opinion here and there but he mostly sat and listened. Listening had always served him much better than speech after all.
And sometimes the meetings would end with seals and in pages of accounts so poorly recorded they would shame a Winterfell steward.
The crown was in debt…. deeply. Though no one wished to say so plainly. The coffers of the capital had been drained faster than wine.
"All if not most spent on tournaments, banquets, ships, bribes, contracts, trade and payment to the city guards and castle servants." According to the master of coin.
It was a wonder the realm still stood as it did.
He had asked Baelish how much the crown owed and he was shocked to find out that it was over six million. He might've surely jested but the master of coin had been sorely serious.
Six million gold dragons. He himself nor his house hadn't even an eighth of such a sum yet the crown owed it.
Robert had never been a careful man, but this was beyond all expectations . This was carelessness. Not only on his part but also on the council's.
Robert was driving his rule into bad financial decisions and through vanity. He whored away at day leaving all administrative tasks to his council yet he couldn't sit comfortably with how the man had been ruling.
He remembered a saying from Wyman Manderly when he'd had visited Winterfell for the summer festival. " The look of a city would show you the rule of a king and depending on said look it would be decided if his tule would be short lived or not".
He cringed at his words thinking about them now, but they had some truth to them. Kings landing perhaps not on paper , had turned into a place much more stagnant than it was with the Mad King.
The council made the man do as he wished without ever properly putting up some form of defense to his vices and he found himself slowly doing the same.
How frustrating it all was.
He had spent today's afternoon walking the keep, quiet hours where he could breathe without someone flattering or demanding something. Arya had been a handful lately but she too had to adapt to the life of the capital. She and her older sister often quarreled as sisters do but he could not fault neither for their preferences. Sansa liked the city and Arya didn't, that among other issues of their common disputes.
One morning, Arya asked if Winterfell missed her. He told her the truth, it did. Their home would always yearn the presence of that which is stark.
"My lord Stark!" He heard a knock on his door.
It was Jory.
"Come in" he called.
"Lord Commander Janos Slynt is here to see you." He stated.
He gestured with his hand to the man who he could see standing at the door way.
Janos Slynt a crooked man under the influence of the Lannister more than the king himself.
"Commander Slynt what bothers you so that you took time off your duties to come here directly?" He asked.
"Well my lord Hand a goldcloak captain came to me with rumors from the docks, a ship arrived unregistered, it goods untaxed based on what we've seen, its men had disembarked with no reason to be here save trouble. Smugglers, I thought at first, but they had flown the sigil of one of your vassals" He said now unfolding a flayed man banner.
"We have right to believe they are smuggling",
"Why would one of my banner who had been trading legally for years turn to smuggling especially here of all places", He inquired raising an eyebrow at the man.
"W-Well my lord, the queen had gotten valuable information that these ships were smuggling arms and steel instead of textiles as they only should've",
"The queen?"
"And what would the queen know of such things, she is not the harbor master nor is she master of whispers, yet she would bring up such allegations against a loyal house of the north?" He said through a frown.
"Well my lord, I'm not one to question the queen's will", Slynt stammered.
Though he had not been the best of friends with the Young Lord Bolton he could not recount the man being a man of corruption.
Based on his encounters with Domeric Bolton the man was everything but what one would think of a bolton.
"I'll look into the matter personally and take over from there lord Slynt. But thank you nevertheless for this information". He replies to the gold cloak.
The man gave him a stiff bow before leaving as quickly as he could.
This all seemed to like a set up. Boltons smuggling weapons into Kingslanding for what exactly? This seemed so far fetch yet so stupidly set in place as if to frame someone.
A trip to the docks was now on the schedule it seems.
"Jory ready my horse and eight of your men , we'll be going down to the docks"
"Aye my lord", he nodded.
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One Man to Rule them