Pentos

Before he had left, Ned had been allowed to send a letter to Robb. He had urged his son not to be rash; the Starks had suffered a mighty blow, but they were all still alive. Soon after sending the letter, he had been ushered away onto the first ship leaving Westeros. That was how he had arrived in Pentos, penniless, and weaponless, dressed in little more than rags.

Ned wasn’t sure what to expect as he stepped off of the ship, simply glad to be alive. He wasn’t sure what he planned to do now or what he actually could do. He certainly wasn’t expecting to find a man in colorful robes waiting for him at the docks.

“Welcome to Pentos, Lord Stark,” the newcomer smiled, stroking his beard. “I am Magister Illyrio and I have been patiently waiting for you. I have an offer...”

Ned swallowed hard, studying the two armed and armored guards standing beside Illyrio. Neither of them were paying him much attention, but they both kept a hand on their swords.

“I’m no longer a Lord,” he replied evenly. He crossed his arms, trying to appear calm and composed. It was difficult after being stripped of his title, position, and even his family. However, if Illyrio noticed that Ned couldn’t support his posturing, he chose not to mention it.

“So I have been told,” Illyrio nodded, “But, my friends have informed me that you are a man of honor, Lord Stark—an increasingly rare trait. And it takes honorable men to properly rule the Seven Kingdoms. If you take my offer, you could once again be a noble lord, helping to rule Westeros. Serving a true king. A Targaryen King.”

Ned’s blood went cold. He recalled hearing from Robert that two Targaryen children had managed to escape to Pentos and was trying to buy an alliance with the Dothraki. For a moment he considered taking Illyrio’s offer. He could be restored to power. He could return with the Targaryens and the Dothraki and right the wrongs that had been done to him and his family. He could destroy Cersei and Jamie and the Lannisters.

But the last Targaryen king had been far from a fair ruler. He had murdered Ned’s brother and burned his father alive. He had allowed his son to kidnap and **** Ned’s sister. What guarantee was there that this one would be any different? And how were they planning to move an army of barbaric horsemen across the narrow sea?

Regardless of the questions that plagued him, Illyrio was still waiting for an answer and his patience seemed to be wearing thin.