Hello everyone. I strongly advise you to reread the fourth chapter 'Winterfell'. It has been modified, and the content has been changed.
Anyways here's the next chapter. Enjoy and please leave a review.
Chapter 21
Stronger
"Who am I speaking to," Mace Tyrell said. Robb and Lord Tytos Blackwood had reached the court of Highgarden, only to find an oafish man sitting on the lord's seat and the slimy Petyr Baelish speking on behalf of Joffrey. The announcer had already announced their names, yet Mace Tyrell insisted on hearing them again.
"Lord Tytos of the House Blackwood," Lord Blackwood cut in before Petyr Baelish could open his mouth to speak, "and Prince Robb Stark of Winterfell."
"My lord," Robb said, and gave a small bow.
"A prince who bows," Baelish remarked with amusement, and turned towards Lord Tyrell. "Clearly this one hasn't gotten used to being addressed as a Prince."
Robb's temper sparked, yet he replied calmly, "I stand before Lord Mace Tyrell of Highgarden, Warden of the South, Defender of the Marches, High Marshal of the Reach." Robb turned towards Mace Tyrell, who was looking at Robb with bewilderment, mouth agap like a fish. "It is clear that my lord's assortment of titles makes mine look pale." This subdued Baelish. Robb touched his sword's handle which he was carrying on his waist, and prayed to the Gods that none of his nervousness showed on his face.
"As I was saying," Tytos Blackwood continued, "I and Prince Robb came to your home and hearth with a proposal my lord Tyrell."
"What is that proposal," Tyrell demanded.
"Best said in private my lord, especially because of the likes of the people you have in your hall right now." Tytos took a sideways glance towards Baelish.
"He names me despicable," Baelish spoke in his silk smooth voice, "yet he is the one who joined up with a traitor to rebelled against our good king Joffrey."
"I won't answer any of the questions raised by your vile toungue," Lord Blackwood spat.
"Then I will ask you the same question," the source of the voice was a small lady present in the court. Robb took some time in recognizing her. She was Lady Olenna Tyrell, the Queen of Thorns.
Lord Blackwood turned towards Lady Olenna. "My lady, it is a delight to look at you after such a long time."
"Spare me my lord. Until you justify your actions you riverlanders will all remain traitors in my eyes. So tell me, why did you rise up against King Joffrey."
"My lady, why would you want to hear a traitor ramble," Baelish spoke, and turned towards Mace, who was watching the exchange from his high seat. "They have come to include you and you kin in their treachery against the Iron Throne and King Joffrey Baratheon."
"Baratheon," Tytos smirked, "I call him Joffrey Lannister, or Joffrey Waters. They did not make a last name for an abomination like him."
"Wild allegations my lord," Baelish spoke.
"Silence both of you," Lady Olenna rebuked. Robb was perplexed by the commanding mother of the silent lord of Highgarden. "Now Lord Blackwood, explain yourself."
Tytos Blackwood was about to speak, but Robb silenced him by raising his hand. He looked straight in the eyes of the old woman, and the lady's eyes widened slightly.
"My lady," Robb began, thinking hard on the words he was about to put in his speech. "I am sent here by my father Eddard Stark, King of the North and the Trident, with Lord Blackwood here as my councilor and escort. If anyone should justify the cause of our actions, it should be me." Robb spoke about Bran's fall, mishap at the Trident, abduction of the Imp and butchery in the Riverlands, House Stark joining the war and the Crowning of his father. The whole of the court heard Robb speak in rapt attention.
"Very well Robb of House Stark," Lady Olenna spoke. "Now Lord Baelish, what do you have to say for yourself and the Iron Throne."
Lord Baelish spoke in a subtle manner. Robb didn't fail to make out the offers made to the Tyrells, hidden craftily in his well chosen words. He also took time in mentioning the Northern alliance with Prince Oberyn Martell. The little birds of Varys were good.
"My lord Tyrell," Robb spoke, and the slight uproar about Oberyn joining the Starks subsided. "You son Ser Loras has declared for us, and has pledged his sword to my great uncle Brynden Tully. Petyr Baelish here offers him a place in the Kingsguard, but I know him better than that. He is a knight, and he won't give up his word for any pretty white cloak offered to him. As for Prince Oberyn, let me tell you that Dorne still remains neutral in this war. It is only Prince Oberyn who wishes to join us, for the fact that he wants to avenge his sister Elia. He fights only for vengeance, and wishes to return back to Sunspear after the war is over."
Robb let the words sink in, and then spoke again, "as for the marriage proposal, let me make you aware that the 'good King' Joffrey has been asking for my sister Sansa to be shipped to him, so that she can marry him and become his. He threatens to kill my father if he doesn't do so. Would you want your daughter to marry such a person. Lord Baelish talks of a place in the Small Council, my father has something far better to offer." He produced a parchment and extended it towards Lord Tyrell, but Lady Olenna insisted that it should be given to her. She broke the direwolf seal of Stark, and unrolled the document. She read it, and read it again, and then turned towards Robb. "I see," she spoke in a low voice, and scanned Robb up and down.
Robb felt compelled to speak. He drew his sword from the scabbard, and the steel shone in the dim light. "The word of a Stark is worth all the gold in Casterly Rock. Join us my lords of Tyrell. Become kings of all the Reach, and we vouch for your protection from all our vile enemies."
"My lords," Baelish spoke. "The Iron Throne is the only monarchial power in Westeros, has been for 300 years. We all know what happened to those who tried to usurp the power."
"Aye, one of them became King, and established House Baratheon of King's Landing. You are only making my point Lord Baelish," Robb chuckled. "The Targaryen dynasty and the Iron Throne were both forged by dragon fire. Even while sitting in the Red Keep, false kings won't be able to make us follow them, unless they break us by using dragon fire."
"Lord Baelish is right," Mace Tyrell seemed afraid. "The King on the Iron Throne is the only King in Westeros."
"Shut up Mace," Lady Olenna snapped. She addressed Robb. "You ask for my granddaughter's hand in marriage. My Margerry was raised in all the comforts of the Reach. Do you think we will send her to the cold dank place you call home. We all have heard of where Lysenne Hightower ended up."
This time Tytos Blackwood spoke, "my lady, the Mormonts are a poor family, and the marriage between Jorah Mormont and the Hightower girl was not a wise decision. Your daughter on the other hand will marry the Crown Prince of the North and the Riverlands, and will one day become the Queen of the North. That boy who sits on the Iron Throne still wants Princess Sansa Stark for his wife, and Baelish here is making false promises to you. Joffrey has only the Lannisters backing him. Prince Robb is an honorable man grown, has already fought and won battles. He is an accompolished scholar and ruler, and is loved by on and all in the North and the Riverlands. He is truly worthy match for your granddaughter."
"I understand it well," Lady Olenna said, and walked towards her son on the high seat. "Congratulations Lord Tyrell, you will soon be King of the Reach."
"Surrounded by usurpers I am," Stannis spoke, with the Red woman watching him intently. "I can't defeat Ned Stark with my numbers, and without defeating him I can't take the Iron Throne."
"You will defeat them all my King. I saw it in the flames," Melissandre spoke, "but first you must give yourself to the Lord of Light."
"I said the words damn you," Stannis rasped, "I burned the idols."
"You must give all of yourself," she said seductively, and undid her robe.
Stannis watched her lustily, tracing his vision from her lush and supple breasts, her toned abdomen to the red tuft of hair between her legs. Then abruptly he turned his gaze away. All of a sudden Stannis Baratheon looked very afraid, like a child caught in the act of stealing food.
"I have a wife," he gasped, "I took a vow."
"She is sick, weak and disgusts you. She has given you no sons. Only stillborns." She ran her fingers through his hair and whispered to him, her warm breathe striking his ear. "I will give you a son."
Sansa watched Lady Hornwood intently as she left Winterfell with her men, and prayed that the gods never make anyone see days she was experiencing. Her lord husband and son were dead, and the other lords were looking hungrily at her and her lands, with some extrovertly asking her for her hand in marriage with their bawdy proposals.
Lady Hornwood's talk about Ramsay Snow had been giving her nightmares lately. She had talked to Lord Tallhart about it. "There is no definte proof against him princess," he said in reply.
The harvest feat went well. Sansa was in charge of the feast, and was proud of herself that everything worked out well. Watching her mother plan the earlier feasts of Winterfell had helped a lot.
After seeing the last of the Stark bannermen out, Princess Sansa Stark walked back to her chambers and fell on her bed, and sleep engulfed before she knew it.
Please let me know what you think of this chapter...
TheSwordInTheDarkness310