WARS TO COME, game of thrones

𝐗𝐈. mockingbird

Joffrey Baratheon - no, Joffrey Lannister sat on the iron throne. Anrir scrutinized the boy. A small, blond rat. A Lannister without doubt.

They had been expected on the way to the throne room, men of the city guard as well as Littlefinger and Varys accompanied them into the spacious hall where they were still standing now. On the way, Ned had been informed that Joffrey had claimed his throne, while Robert's brother Renly had run off with Loras Tyrell. Anrir had snorted at the news. Indiscreet young idiots. He wished Ned and he were the same.

Anrir stood diagonally behind Ned now, his hand resting on Beast as always. Lark stood near the doors to the throne room, looking tensely at the other guards here. His gaze made Anrir want to flee. But his place was here, with Ned. With his heart.

Joffrey had demanded that preparations be made for his coronation and pronounced that he expected oaths from the council and its members.

"You have no right to the iron throne," Ned spoke, his voice firm and loud in the hall. Anrir thought of how they had walked into this hall so many years ago. A Lannister had sat on the throne then too. And they had been able to remove him then too. "I am protector of the realm, according to the decree of the late king."

"Protector of the realm. Do you think this is your shield? A piece of paper." Cersei, standing next to her bored-looking son, smirked, completely unimpressed. She shredded the letter containing Robert's last will and testament, which Ser Barristan had read to her and then handed over.

The scraps of paper fell slowly to the ground, their contents destroyed and unimportant. Anrir pulled Beast and Lark behind him did the same with his sword, only moments later.

Ned raised a hand, whereupon Anrir tried to drive the tension from his body. Not to instigate a conflict that wasn't necessary, even if Cersei had the audacity...

He did not seem to be the only one appalled by the gesture. "Those were the king's words...", Ser Barristan objected.

"We have a new king now," Cersei smiled at the old knight, looking to Joffrey with a glint of pride in her eyes.

"Take Lady Cersei and her children away," Ned ordered the men of the city guard. Littlefinger had promised that the men would be on Ned's side. "Take them to their chambers."

"Men!" shouted the commander of the city guard and his men drew their weapons, the clang echoing in the throne room.

"No bloodshed. Put your weapons away, it doesn't have to be like this. No one has to die," Ned ordered, his voice as controlled as ever. He showed no emotion, none but determination. He had the men of the city guard behind him, Varys and even Littlefinger. If necessary, Anrir would take on all the knights of the Kingsguard to defend Ned's cause. His gaze met Barristan Selmy's. His eyes betrayed nothing.

Anrir did not see which man of the city guard drew blood first. A spear pierced the chest of one of Ned's Northmen. Anrir wheeled around, but the attack did not stop there. Blood splattered on the ground, Lark was suddenly at Anrir's side, fending off an attack.

From one second to the next, Anrir was at war again.

He snapped out of his stupor, crossing blades with the Hound, whose force almost knocked Beast from his hand. Anrir wore no armor, one mistake and he would be dead.

He let his reflexes take over the fight.

The blades sang, Anrir dodged every blow, parrying the ones he could stop. The main thing was that the Hound didn't get to the unarmed, still injured Ned.... Lark was at his side and together they pushed the Hound further and further back.