When The Throne Bleeds

21. The Ghost of House Lannister

Irida stood in the Great Hall's gallery, with a few other noblewomen, overlooking the proceedings. She was biting the inner skin of her lips, as she neatly folded her hands over the nervous flutter in her abdomen.

In the absence of the King, his Hand automatically became the acting ruler. And so Ned Stark sat on the Iron Throne, patiently listening to the pleas of the commonfolk as they entered the hall like ants. Irida looked at her father, thinking.
What would have happened if Ned Stark had conquered the Throne?
He was certainly a better ruler than the Baratheon fool. Maybe the people would've been happier with Ned, with a king who actually cared about his subjects.
A smile flitted on her face as Ned adjusted his position, straightening his back and softening his features as a tired woman came in to ask for help.
Robb used to do that too in Winterfell. Like father, like son.

Suddenly Ser Barristan Selmy marched in hurriedly, a parchment in his hands, and an honourable determination on his face. The commander walked up to Ned, and whispered something in his ear, handing him the parchment. Ned took one look at him, then closed his eyes, sighing.

"My lady," he addressed the woman in front of him, "I apologize for the inconvenience, but an urgent matter has come up for the Crown. I request you to come back an hour later, and your request will be heard."

"Yes, m'lord." The woman nodded, a bit taken aback at having been given respect by someone who sat on the Iron Throne.

Ned pinched the bridge of his nose, then appeared to gather his strength and called out, "Lord Petyr Baelish, I ask you to stand before the Throne."

Irida lifted her face ever so slightly, a victorious smile on her lips.

Petyr Baelish, who was standing with the small council near the Throne, looked at Ned in confusion, an expression he wasn't accustomed to.

"I'm sorry. I don't quite understand."

"I asked you to stand in front of the Throne. Do it." Ned snapped.

Petyr walked up to his position, his breath shallow as he nervously waited to hear his next words.

"You have been dealing with the illegal shipments of narcotics and hallucinogens in the port of King's Landing. You have been selling these illegal goods to the men who visit your brothels to sedate them for pleasure. This," Ned held up the parchment, "has all your illegal transactions accounted for. Do you accept the statement I just made against you?"

The noblewomen gasped at this, and most of the lords in court looked at the whoremonger accusingly, realizing that they had all been drugged at some point of time.

Petyr immediately turned his shocked expression into a passive one as he recognised his stamp on the parchment. Irida glanced at the maidservant with the dirty golden hair standing in the corner, sharing a tiny smile with her. She had done her job well.
Petyr Baelish would be busy cleaning up his own mess and Irida would have him out of the way, one less of a challenge.

"I accept I had been dealing in these shipments." Petyr bowed slightly, his voice becoming extremely guilt-stricken. "I shall pay the Crown six thousand gold coins as penance for my activities against it's morals, along with offering my humble apology."

"You have disgraced the reputation of a Master of Coin in the small council, by hoarding money like that, Lord Baelish." Ned spoke sternly. "I hereby relieve you of that position, taking into account your illegal monetary activities in the capital. You shall pay three thousand gold coins as penance for your crime and a team of financial officers shall visit all your brothels and your home, to investigate for any further unlawful practices."