Ned Stark

Ned sat at the head of the table in the grand hall of Winterfell. His new title, Hand of the King, weighed heavily on his chest. It meant leaving his home, The North, and everything he knew behind.

He was not a politian, and King's Landing was a dangerous place, full of schemers and cutthroats. Ned glanced at the King, who was laying on a bench, wine dripping down his beard, as he roughly groped a servant woman. Robert would need protection in the capitol.

The Lannisters sat at one side of the high table. Cersei was tight lipped at her husband's behavior, and Jaime and Tyrion sat, heavily in their cups, joking sarcastically.

Eddard sighed and sank back into his chair, picking up his mug of ale and looking to his wife. The royals left on the morrow, and he with them.