Chapter Twenty-Six: In This Twilight
A/N: Finally another chapter. Honestly, I continue to be amazed at you guys. 356 reviews, over 600 favourites and nearly 900 follows. Could you be any cooler? I'm hoping you're enjoying the new season of Game of Thrones so far. Don't worry, I have plenty more twists and turns in the works for Robb and Mella ;) Enjoy!
Mella stood on the safe side of the rickety wooden fence, one hand pressed to her stomach and the other fidgeting nervously in the folds of her dress. Across from her, Daenerys watched Aegon with an impassive expression. It was so hard to tell what the Targaryen girl was thinking, especially when it concerned her nephew. Mella took a deep breath, forcing herself to retain her calm. She was a Queen, she should certainly be acting as such, not like a fearful and hormonal teenage girl.
Robb walked onto the pitch, to the cheering of his banner-men. There was a determined glint in his blue eyes, but Mella didn't for a second stop to wonder why. He was fighting for her. Of course he was going to be determined. He stretched experimentally, turning to glance at her. She offered him what she hoped was an encouraging smile, before it faded as Aegon walked onto the pitch.
The dragon prince was garbed in fine armour, just like Robb, but somehow it seemed to exaggerate how much bigger he was than Robb. Oh, he was slender – but tall. Mella swallowed as she watched him draw his sword. Robb's shoulders tensed and he moved forward, leaving Mella to mill at the fence and pray to all seven of the gods that he would make it through this. He had to, for the sake of their unborn child.
It was Aegon who lunged first, swinging his sword in a wide arc towards Robb. Robb managed to step away from it, but the sword came swinging back again. This time he blocked it, the resulting screech of clashing steel making Mella wince. Parrying the blow, he stepped forward and slashed at Aegon, a confident move for a young man who had previously been in the defensive only moments before.
Aegon's violet eyes glinted and he and Robb parried several blows, their teeth gritted in concentration. Mella licked her dry lips, feeling her child kicking. Even the baby was making quite a show of its support. She leaned over the fence, watching her husband closely as he and Aegon traded more blows, the echo of ringing steel resonating around them. Daenerys was still watching as if she didn't care, but Mella could see how wide her violet eyes had become, and for some reason, it made her feel triumphant. So the dragon girl did care.
It carried on for some time, the trading of blows. Every now and then, one of them would draw blood, causing the other to hiss. Mella would grip the fence hard when it was Robb who was cut, always worrying that it might be a mortal wound. They were tiring, it was obvious to anyone. Their slashes were lazier, and Mella worried that weariness would be Robb's undoing.
Then her husband stepped forward and slashed, Aegon being too slow to block it. The wound was not fatal, but the sword scraped his leg. The dragon prince stumbled, blood beginning to trickle down from the wound. He looked up at Robb, and his expression darkened. He lunged with a renewed ferocity – and his sword slashed deeply across Robb's face.
Mella screamed, putting her hands over her mouth as Robb staggered and hit the dirt. Aegon advanced, but paused when he saw his enemy with a hand pressed over his face. Mella's heart hammered in her chest, unwilling to believe that Robb had fallen, that Aegon had won. Then her husband pushed himself to his feet, despite the blood that streamed down the left side of his face. The sword must have been slippery in his hand, but it never showed.
Aegon lunged towards Robb, but the younger man managed to duck the blow. With a sudden burst of strength, Robb swung his sword up in an arc, cutting Aegon's head off. Mella grimaced and turned her face at the sickening thump of the older man's head hitting the sound. Everyone was silent, Daenerys gnawing on her lip. Whatever they had anticipated from Robb, it clearly hadn't been that.
Mella pressed her hands over her mouth, feeling both disgusted at the sight of Aegon's headless body bleeding out on the sand, and proud of Robb. There was still a bloody cut down his face and he was panting heavily, clearly exhausted. But as he staggered towards her, Mella couldn't quite help the delighted smile that spread across her features. He had won, and she was free.
"Will you honour your word?" Mella inquired, turning to face Daenerys and raising her eyebrows. The Targaryen girl had gone quite pale, but Mella was impressed at the way she met her gaze levelly. Mella raised a hand to the swell of her stomach, and Daenerys flinched slightly, as if seeing her with child was physically painful to her.
"Yes." Daenerys's voice was strong. "I am a woman of my word. You are permitted to stay until your husband's wounds have healed, but after that, you are to leave and re-join your own camp."
"Sit still." Mella dabbed at Robb's face with a damp cloth, biting down on her lip as he winced. He was scared of what they might find once all the blood had been cleaned off, and so his wife had been the only one permitted in the tent. Even Mella was wary, taking care to be extremely gentle as she cleaned the dried blood from the wound. She bit her lip, because what she was finding underneath the gore was not good.
The cut along Robb's cheek was deep, having torn the flesh open in a jagged way. Looking over it, Mella could tell that it would never heal completely. Robb would always have a thick, ugly scar across one side of his face. She didn't know whether she could bring herself to tell him this, but her eyes must have said everything.
"It's bad, isn't it?"
She sighed. "Robb…"
"Please, just tell me the truth." Robb averted his blue eyes, and she felt a surge of protectiveness towards him, for reasons unbeknownst to her. She knew that it would hurt him to learn the truth, but that it would hurt him more if she lied.
"You're going to have a scar," she said quietly, unwilling to meet his gaze. "A thick one. It won't be pretty."
"Ah," Robb said, but the sadness in his eyes told her everything. She felt ashamed, knowing that the fight had been for her, and that if it hadn't occurred, he wouldn't have been badly cut in such a manner. She reached out and tentatively touched the wounded side of his face, before kissing his lips. She wanted him to know that even if one side of his face would never be the same, she would always love him.
"I wish you hadn't done that for me. But I love you all the more for it, scar and all."
"You and our baby must be safe." Robb's hand drifted down to rest on the swell of her stomach. It scared Mella to know that their child would be born in only a few months' time, yet at the same time it excited her.
"We are now. Thanks to you."
Even though Robb was still recovering the next morning, both he and Mella agreed that it was time for them to leave. They felt on edge with only Daenerys and her companions. It was time to return to their camp, their loyal supporters. Daenerys raised her eyebrows as she watched the royal couple approach her, critically inspecting Mella in particular.
"I've heard you look a lot like him. Your father, the Usurper."
Something flared in Mella's eyes, but her tone was calm. "Yes, it is true. The Baratheon blood runs thick through my veins. But I wouldn't exactly call him a usurper."
Daenerys looked up to the skies to where her two remaining dragons circled overhead. Mella knew it would be foolish not to fear them, but her predominant reaction was always awe over terror. They were such magnificent beasts. Her great-grandmother had been a Targaryen, which was what gave Robert claim to the Iron Throne. Mella would never consider herself enough of Targaryen blood to ride a dragon, but they still astounded her. Her father had shown her the skulls when she had been a young child, yet they didn't compare to the real thing.
"Then what would you call him?" Daenerys asked, her eyes cold when they fixated on Mella once again. "Anything but what he is?"
"He stopped Westeros from plunging into the hell that your father would have made it," Mella raised her chin. Although she had Robb by her side, she did not need him to speak for her. She was not a woman ruled by her husband. It was through her that Robb now had claim to the Iron Throne. She was Robert's sole legitimate heir, and that very fact was sometimes what drove her.
"I will take back what is mine, with fire and blood." Daenerys glanced sharply at Robb, who had paled slightly as though he had seen a ghost. "Neither you nor your doe wife can stop me."
Mella bristled at that. Daenerys had her dragons, but what was she without them? The Golden Company may turn to her by default, but they had followed Aegon before. She stepped forward, her eyes narrowing. She might be a doe, but her house's words were as prevalent as ever.
"I won't stop you from raining wrath and ruin upon my grandfather and my mother, if that's what you want to do." Mella shrugged her shoulders. She was going to prove that she was not intimidated or amazed by Daenerys's threats. "But…can't? That's another matter entirely."
The baby kicked, and Mella rested her hand upon her stomach. Again, Daenerys's violet eyes drifted there, this time filled with something almost like sorrow. It struck Mella then that perhaps Daenerys was incapable of having children of her own. Maybe that was why she looked at Mella's swollen stomach with something so akin to envy.
"You are still a threat to me, Mella Baratheon, don't forget that," Daenerys warned. "Once the lions are gone, and any of the other pretenders…I will come for you."
"We need more allies," Mella commented as their entourage parted ways with Daenerys's camp. Where the dragon princess decided to go was her own business, but the threat of her return was always lingering. One day, she would confront Mella again. Mella was certain that she would be prepared for it when it happened.
"What would you suggest?" Robb glanced at her. The cut on his face stood out more in the sunlight, and Mella tried not to look for worry that it would make him self-conscious. She was still her handsome, kind-hearted Robb even with his face mangled in such a way.
"Perhaps the Vale." Mella bit her lip. Robin Arryn was a young boy, but he had powerful mentors. She had no love and no connection to House Arryn – but Robb was the boy's cousin. If anyone could convince his advisors to ally with them, it was him. They had proven themselves many times over.
"We can only try," Robb agreed, which caused Mella to become flooded with relief. She had been concerned that he would reject her proposal, and then she would tell him she had no others. They could only strike King's Landing once they had the support they needed. Even with Mella's men, some of whom had once been Renly's or Stannis's, and Robb's own army, they could not take the city.
"I think the baby will be born soon." Mella ran a hand over her stomach. Her walk was becoming more and more like a waddle, and she felt a fierce love for the active little one in her belly. "Perhaps he will be born in the Eyrie."
"Have you thought of a name for him?" Robb asked, glancing at her stomach with pride.
Mella smiled. "I thought perhaps Willem."
The time had come, Cersei Lannister thought, to admit that Mella was not coming home. That she would not be reasoned with, and that she was Robb Stark's creature now. She may not want her daughter dead, but she did not want her eldest poisoning darling Tommen with any of her lies. So it fell to Cersei to tell Tommen the truth about his sister, as unfortunate as it was. The boy needed to know.
"You realise we have many enemies, don't you, sweet?" Cersei inquired as she dined with her son. Tommen was taking well to his marriage with Margaery, although Cersei found herself despairing of the increasingly conniving Tyrell whore.
"Of course, Mother." Tommen looked up from his food. "I know that Daenerys and Aegon Targaryen…"
"Aegon is dead." Cersei set her knife and fork down, reaching for her goblet of wine and taking a sip. "Killed in combat by Robb Stark. Which is just who I wanted to speak to you about. Robb has many allies, including your sister Mella."
Tommen's brow furrowed as though he didn't quite understand. "But…surely you don't mean that Mella is a threat? She is one of us, Mother."
Cersei found his naivety both infuriating and adorable. How unlike Joffrey he was in that, what a sweet-natured boy. No doubt that would not last long, not with the battles occurring around him, and Margaery for a wife. Tommen was growing up too fast, and she did not like it one bit. But he needed to be prepared and strong, and for that, it meant there was no place for innocence.
"She is, Tommen. Your sister made her choice when she married Robb. Now she is heavily pregnant with his child. Possibly a boy."
Tommen remained silent as he processed this. Cersei could tell that her youngest son did not want to hate his sister – Mella had always been protective of Tommen, defending him from Joffrey's bullying. But the simple matter was that time changed people, and it seemed to have changed Mella most of all.
"In fact, I daresay that Mella is the greatest threat of all."