Chapter XIV
Arianne
The wind's howl resonated through the thick walls of Storm's End. Once more the war effort had grinded to a halt due to autumn storms, and Jae had taken that time to secure the Stormlands, one keep at a time. Stannis Baratheon now held Dragonstone, Cape Wrath, and a few minor keeps in the Crownlands.
But the victory over Renly had come at a price, the price of her uncle's life. Obara raged at the fact that she could have prevented it, and for the first time ever, Arianne saw her cry, she who was always ever defiant and strong. His bones were sent to Sunspear, to be buried alongside Elia's. Wherever they were, she hoped they would be together.
Nymeria, Sarella and Tyene had wept, and no doubt that Elia, Obella, Dorea and Loreza would also weep along with Ellaria when his remains reached the Dornish capital. But for now, the time for weeping was over, and the time for conquest was up.
Robb Stark had taken Lannisport and shifted his focus to the Rock, and Daenerys Targaryen had sacked Lys and was besieging Myr. She could only hope that her and her dragons were not Maegor the Cruel or Aerys the Mad reborn, and wouldn't cause another civil war at the worst time. For she knew, she would look to Westeros next.
Arianne had also grown sicker and sicker over the past few days, and Sarella had assured her that she could be delivering any day now, and it made her worried. Jae and mother had stayed by her side, to the point where she felt Jae was spending more time with her than with his council or his knights.
"Are you alright, your grace?" Jeyne Swann, one of her ladies in waiting asked, as Arianne found herself dozing off.
"Just the usual. Feeling slightly sick, but I manage." Arianne answered truthfully.
"You should take some rest." Jeyne smiled. "I know bearing a child is complicated. When I had Henry and Shelia it took a toll on me every time, but you cannot run in circles like a wolf in a cage."
A whimper made itself heard in the background, as Ghost slowly woke up, yawning as his red eyes darted towards Jeyne and her. Jae had insisted on having the direwolf brought from Sunspear to watch over her while he was away.
And she felt good in his presence, for in Ghost's red eyes, she often found Jae's dark grey ones, staring back at her, and she could see him smiling from wherever he was. She felt that connection uniting Jae and his direwolf, a connection she couldn't understand, but she could feel despite the unnatural nature of their connection.
Ghost stared at them both, eyeing them for half a minute, before dozing off close to the bed, taking up a lot of space as he did so, for he'd grown to the size of a horse, and barely squeezed passed the door, which was still quite massive for a fortress such as Storm's End.
The seat of Baratheon power had fallen quite easily once Renly had fallen, along with most coastal seats such as Parchments, Greenstone and Evenfall Hall, on the island of Tarth, who'd been taken by the Velaryon fleet a few days prior. As such, the castle had yielded once Jae promised no harm would come to the defenders, especially not to the young Edric Storm, who Jae promised would be under his protection.
And indeed, Jae had been merciful with the boy. Edric was but a prisoner and a bastard when Jae entered the castle who flew Baratheon banners then. When Targaryen banners had been raised, Edric Storm was no more, and Edric Baratheon, Lord of Storm's End and Warden of the Stormlands was born.
Many had argued against it, but Jae wouldn't hear it. Edric was the eldest son of Robert Baratheon, and as such he was to inherit the castle, provided Edric abandoned any claim to the throne and did not punish the Stormlanders that had defected to his side. Edric, Ser Cortnay Penrose and Ser Andrew Estermont, the last defenders of the castle, had been taken aback by this offer, and accepted immediately.
Jae then made Edric kneel and offer vows of fealty, under oath and witnessed by his whole retinue. And with that, Storm's End was under Baratheon rule once more, and their line saved by a bastard, a fitting story, considering the line was founded by one. There existed a few other bastards Jae knew of, but he didn't know exactly where they were, and doubted they'd be of any threat to him. Most would have been killed in the capital, and Mya Stone was safe in the Vale and likely would never even voice a claim to the throne.
Another problem arose when Jae was faced with what to do with Asha Greyjoy, who had been a ward of House Baratheon for more than ten years. A hostage in all but name. She had a sharp tongue, but not many wits, and had lost most of her old fury, but Arianne could see it, she was a killer. She knew how to handle swords, axes and other deadly weapons.
Truthfully, she was of no real utility, as Theon Greyjoy was the heir to the Iron Islands, and was by Robb Stark's side. As such, Jae freed her from any obligations, but sternly reminded her that he would not let the Iron Islands follow the old way ever again. Asha just shrugged and asked for a place in the Royal fleet, much to Jae's surprise.
It turns out that Asha Greyjoy just wanted to be on a ship and sail the world and the seven seas. She had disinterested herself from reaving for a long time, and only wanted a good fight, a sturdy ship, and orders for her to follow. Jae was happy to oblige, and gave her a small ship captured at Tarth, as well as a crew, and placing her under Monford Velaryon's authority, not expecting the Greyjoy woman to do much.
However, the Greyjoy girl was more than useful, and had a tactical acumen many in the Royal fleet lacked. Using hit and run tactics, she downed six of Stannis Baratheon's ships and captured two more, earning herself a few lands south of Cape Wrath, and a position as Squadron Commander in the Velaryon fleet. Soon enough, she founded her own house, House Greybeard, which took for sigil a grey kraken on a yellow main.
In short, Jae had found allies, while Stannis was reduced to a dwindling fleet and less than ten thousand stormlanders and reachmen for only allies. It wouldn't take long for him to break.
She laid down flat on the bed, sighing and thinking about how soon enough, Jae would have to leave again, when suddenly a huge pain came from her stomach.
Jeyne immediately rushed to her side, while her mother, who'd been outside conversing with a servant, rushed in and immediately came by her side. Blinded by the pain, Arianne could only mutter:
"It's coming…"
Her mother nodded and quickly fetched some towels as well as Arianne's cousin Sarella, who'd been trained as a maester and was now acting as help for whenever she and Jae needed it.
Quickly, Arianne found herself resting against the bed, pillows easing her back pain as she tried to push out the baby from her body. Her mother called for her to stay strong, and Arianne squeezed her hand with all her might as she pushed through the pain.
Suddenly, the door flew open and Jae rushed to her side, kissing her hands as he urged her to stay strong as well. His presence made her smile despite the pain of the baby moving through her, and helped her push it out. Suddenly, she felt something drop on the bed sheets, and finally felt like the pain had stopped.
She laid down exhausted, but the commotion in the room had now fallen into dead silence. And with silence came fear. No, no, no, it couldn't be.
"Is…is it…" Arianne cried.
"Twins." Sarella said, stunned as if something dreadful had happened. And suddenly Arianne's heart shattered in a thousand pieces. Two children, her blood, no…
Then Jae broke the silence. Not in a cry of agony, but a laugh. A laugh that made her feel warm, a laugh that felt like someone had told him the funniest joke in the world. And soon both Sarella and her mother had joined in laughing with Jae.
Suddenly, Sarella brought up the two babies to Jae, who then slowly placed them in Arianne's arms. And then she saw what had stunned them into silence. They were a boy and a girl, the boy had dark grey eyes, and the girl had inherited Arianne's golden eyes, but both had beautiful, bright silver hair.
And Arianne laughed as well, as if a huge burden had been lifted off of her shoulders. There was always a part of her that doubted, but now, now she didn't doubt anything. Ned Stark, you beautiful bastard, you did hide the truth under everyone's nose, and these two children – her children – were the final nail in the Baratheon dynasty's coffin.
"What should we name them?" Arianne asked with a smile.
"Since they have silver hair, I think we must give them Targaryen names." Jae sighed. "It is only fitting."
"How about Visenya?" Arya Stark, who'd been silent as a ghost, and whom Arianne hadn't even noticed being in the room before then, asked.
"Visenya is a good name." Jae nodded. "A warrior."
"Visenya." Arianne nodded. "And the boy?"
"How many kings are well-liked in Dorne?" Jae asked. "If we are to name him for a Targaryen, let us name him after one respected by the North and Dorne alike."
"Daeron." Arianne said instantly. "Daeron the good. He united Dorne and the Seven Kingdoms by marriage, and is respected in Dorne."
"Then Daeron it shall be. Daeron and Visenya." Jae smiled at the twins, who Arianne knew were about to make her days even longer now.
"Daeron and Visenya Targaryen." She smiled.
The Targaryen dynasty was secured once more. There were now five dragons in this world.
Jaehaerys
Jae smiled as he held Visenya close to him. It had been little over a month since Arianne gave birth, and he still couldn't believe it. He was a father, and both his children reflected his shared heritage. He could hardly believe it when Sarella showed him the silver-haired twins, and yet, here they were.
Two Targaryens, in flesh and blood. Jae felt relieved. Deep down he wondered if he just wasn't a part of a convoluted plot made by Ned Stark, or a pawn in a bigger game, and the dreams he had were from hallucinogens or some other potion he'd unwillingly drank.
But Daeron and Visenya were living proof that Ned Stark hadn't lied about his heritage. Jae was really the son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark, and Daeron would rule after him if the gods were good.
He continued holding Visenya, rocking his golden-eyed daughter until she fell asleep, before placing her in her bed, next to Daeron. He smiled at both children, now fast asleep, and quickly went to join Arianne in their bed.
"They're beautiful." Jae smiled at her as she smiled back, her golden eyes staring at her just like Visenya's just had.
"They take after their father." She chuckled.
"And their mother." Jae corrected.
"And their mother." Arianne laughed back. "But their silver hair…they'll become more than just children, Jae. They'll become proof."
"I have no intention of parading them, Arianne." Jae sighed. "As much as they prove my own heritage, I do not wish to have them paraded like animals in front of every lord and lady of the realm."
"Of course not." Arianne responded, holding Jae's hand. "But we must acknowledge that word will travel fast, and many will seek to see them."
"I'll have Ser Archibald guard them day and knight." Jae answered. "Besides, Vissy already likes him."
Arianne chuckled as Jae thought about the eerie scene that had occurred, no one managing to soothe both the babe's cries until Archibald Yronwood came in and managed to calm the, instantly. It seemed like the giant had a comforting presence, and as such was now on babe-guarding duty.
"Congratulations, you've been promoted to chief wetnurse." Jeyne Swann had japed to the giant dornishman, who showed a small smile.
"Do you ever think about what could have happened?" Arianne asked him, breaking his small reverie.
"No." He shook his head. "I never thought about it. When I was young, I thought I'd be sent to the Wall, the only prospect as a bastard. I'd likely have lived and died there, killed by a wildling raid or the cold for that matter."
"The Wall?" Arianne inquired, brushing her hand through his hair. "What a waste of your talents."
"There isn't much future for bastards in the North, especially those hated by their father's wives."
Arianne acquiesced. The Dornish culture was different than the Northern one, but she knew enough about how bastards were treated elsewhere to know it would have been hard.
"And we'd never have met." Arianne sighed with a tear in her eye. "I would have lived my entire life not knowing you existed, my father marrying me off to some lord in his grand scheme that would've failed anyways."
"Don't cry." Jae wiped off her tear, kissing her lips. "What matters is right now. And we're together, till our dying days. We have Daeron, Visenya, and any other children you wish to have."
"Do you really have to leave?" Arianne clutched at him, not letting him move.
"Stannis Baratheon wants to parley. He has nothing left; he will have to bend the knee."
"And will you send him to the Wall?" she inquired.
"No." Jae shook his head. "I will offer him something more…suitable. It will be fine, I promise."
Arianne nodded.
"Come back to me soon." She smiled. "I'll have something prepared for your return."
"I love you, never forget it." Jae smiled as she kissed her cheek and lips.
"And I love you, Jae."
Soon enough, they fell asleep in each other's arms, and as dawn broke, Jae kissed his queen on the lips, wished good morning to Daeron and Visenya, put on his armour and crown, a small golden band made of pure gold, and left the room, escorted by his lord commander, Ser Balon Swann.
"Ser Archibald and Ser Andrew will stay with the Queen today." Balon curtsied as he and Jae entered the courtyard. "Ser Daemon and I will be your escort today."
"Very well." Jae nodded. "And where shall the parley take place?"
"In front of Storm's End's walls." Balon replied, but as Jae was about to saddle his horse, he saw Edric Storm…no Edric Baratheon, saddle his own horse.
"What are you doing, Lord Edric?" Jae inquired.
"Well, your grace, as lord of Storm's End and son of Robert Baratheon, Stannis is my uncle." He replied, his voice as sure as could be. "I could persuade him to bend the knee."
"Or he could see you as the boy who stole Storm's End from him." Jae replied sternly.
"Were you ever planning on giving it to him anyways?" Edric shrugged.
"Point taken." Jae chuckled, "Right, fine. But you do not get to talk until I say so, do you understand?"
"I understand, your grace."
"Good, let us ride on then."
The party exited through Storm's End's main gate and rode off towards Stannis' main camp. The camp still flew the Burning Stag banner, but Jae noted that although it was prominent, the crowned Baratheon stag started to make a comeback. And although the camp was large, it was by no means impressive, boasting less than two hundred tents. It seemed that the war had taken its toll on Stannis Baratheon.
Jae and his party entered the camp, and headed towards the main tent, a large oval tent bearing the flag of truce, instead of the usual crowned stag or burning stag. He looked to his side, where Monford Velaryon was frowning. He'd thought about bringing the red priestess to show Stannis that all his allies, even his closest ones, had left him, but ended up heeding Alyn Dayne's advice and only bringing along the Velaryon lord, and Lord Morrigen.
The party unhorsed and entered the tent, where only a handful of men were present, standing in the centre of the room, and in the middle, a man with a red, fiery crown, who looked broken, like he hadn't slept for days.
The man approached Jae, eyed him up and down, and removed the crown from his head with a sigh, placing it on the table before them.
"I imagined you would be taller, Jaehaerys Targaryen." Stannis Baratheon chuckled, as if disappointed.
"I imagined you with more hair." Jae answered bluntly, not even bothering to correct him.
"It seems most of it burnt when my bannermen decided to turn on me." He snarled, looking in Lord Velaryon's direction.
The Seahorse lord just shrugged.
"We joined the true king of Westeros. We joined the house that gave us the power and influence we had today, and you might want to do the same, for your sake, Lord Stannis." Monford Velaryon replied.
"Bold words coming from a traitor." Stannis scoffed. "If your bastard hadn't laid waste to my fleet, and the Manderlys hadn't destroyed what was left of it with their wolf ships, I would have chased you through the Sea of Dorne."
"Magnificent, weren't they?" Jae smiled. "I saw some under construction in White Harbour. The Audacious to be precise, the fourth of a class of fifteen ships based on the swan ships of the Summer Isles, but better suited for war and northern weather. Do you wish to hear their names again?"
"I don't…" Stannis started, but Jae cut him off.
Jae grinned while reciting the name of the fifteen swan ships that had laid waste to Dragonstone. "Fifteen ships to doom your war effort, Stannis Baratheon. Face it, you have fought, and you have lost."
He could see Stannis Baratheon trembling with rage, but it wasn't he who spoke, but a man in strange colours, a ship with black sails, with an onion on it.
"Forgive me, your grace, but we are here to discuss terms, not insult each other gratuitously like children."
"Forgive me, my lord, but I know not your sigil, who are you?"
"Lord Davos Seaworth, your grace."
"Lord Seaworth." Jae nodded. "You are right. We aren't here to boast of our achievements. I have indeed come to give you fair terms."
"And I suppose those terms involve me taking the black?" Stannis growled. "You would send me to the Wall, while you give Storm's End to a bastard!"
Stannis pointed to Edric Baratheon, who to his credit stood tall, and didn't move a single muscle, slightly unsettling Stannis.
"No." Jae answered simply. "I won't have you sent to the Wall. That would be a terrible waste of your abilities. You are an honourable man, or so they say, Lord Stannis. Do you know of duty and oaths?"
"I know more of duty and oaths than you ever…"
"Good." Jae nodded, interrupting him. "Then you know that your ancestor Orys Baratheon made an oath to my ancestor Aegon, promising eternal fealty, in thanks for elevating House Baratheon from a bastard status, to that of lord paramount. While you declare yourself king and made moves against me, you violated that oath."
"I have." Stannis nodded, not even trying to deny it. "Your family lost the throne by right of conquest."
"And now I am reclaiming it by the same right, as well as that of blood." Jae smiled. "Now, Lord Stannis, Storm's End will never be yours, as I have given it to Robert Baratheon's eldest, bastard or not."
"I do not follow."
"It is simple, I wish for you to make amends for your treachery, as you have stained your house's honour the second you raised arms against me." Jae shrugged. "I recognise that the war to bring down Aerys the mad was legitimate, but when I claimed the throne, you should have bent the knee to me. Instead you took up arms against me. I will require a punishment for this."
"If it is my head, then promise me, as a nephew of Eddard Stark, that no harm should come to my daughter." Stannis nodded, realisation finally dawning on him. "I will accept any punishment you see fit, so long as it is fair, and my family isn't harmed."
"Who talked about harming you?" Jae grinned. "That would be a terrible waste of your abilities. No, Stannis Baratheon, I would name you Hand of the King."
"I…I do not follow." Stannis was taken aback, as the room went dead silent around the two men.
"My father has always praised you for being an intelligent and efficient man, Lord Stannis. I do not intend for your abilities to go to waste." Jae answered simply. "But this is no reward. You will continue to serve as hand, and hold no other office until you are dead or unfit to serve. You will not hold any lands or titles. You will not remarry or have any other children, and most of all, you will renounce all claims to the Iron Throne, and swear your allegiance to me and my dynasty under oath to all the gods including the Red God that you value so highly."
"A prison with gilded bars." Stannis Baratheon winced.
"A chance to redeem you and your family in the face of House Targaryen." Jae smiled. "I will ensure no harm will come to any of your men, let the Reachmen go home, although I will have to turn over Alester, Alekeyne and Selyse Florent to the Tyrells for trial, and I will find a good match for your daughter Shireen, and keep her at Storm's End for the rest of the war."
"Fine, but I wish one condition of you, your grace." Stannis moved his crown towards Jae. "This man, Lord Davos Seaworth, he is a loyal man, He has served me well, and will continue serving me to the last. He stood by me when so many deserted me. I wish you give him a place if not on your council, then allow me to keep him by my side."
"I can vouch for Ser Davos, your grace." Monford Velaryon nodded. "He is lowborn, and as such knows of the struggles of the smallfolk. He can be a good advisor to you."
Jae didn't particularly like the fact that Stannis was imposing a condition on him, but if he was going to achieve peace, then why not give this Davos Seaworth a chance. And if he failed in his duties, or succumbed to treasonous acts, well there was always the Wall or the executioner's blade.
"Very well, I will see if I can find a place for Ser Davos on my council."
"In this case, I accept your offer, your grace."
"Swear to me."
Stannis nodded and got to one knee, facing the ground, and placed a hand on his sword.
"I, Stannis of the House Baratheon, do solemnly swear, under oath and under the eyes of the old gods, the new gods and the red gods, to defend House Targaryen and its king, Jaehaerys the third of House Targaryen. I swear to renounce all claims me or my family have to the Iron Throne and vow for me and my descendants to follow House Targaryen whenever they should call on me to serve or fight. I place my house under House Targaryen's mercy, to do as they see fit of me in punishment for my crimes against the crown, and such at any time they would like to see the debt paid. I swear this by bronze and iron, I swear this by ice and fire."
Jae smiled. With one master stroke, he had united the Stormlands, and gained a Hand of the King most could only dream of, with the certainty that he would never turn against his family, and fulfil his duty to the crown.
"Then rise, Stannis Baratheon, Hand of the King."
Robb
Robb scratched his head in frustration yet again. Lannisport had fallen with quite a fight, and the city had been secured, with any ships left in the harbour set alight. But the Rock still stood, and after a siege of three months, the Northern-Riverlander host was getting nowhere nearer to a favourable issue, and with Tywin Lannister apparently on the move, there needed to be
"There must be a way in, there has to be!" Robb fumed as he looked over the plans of the Rock in front of his war council.
"We've checked the ramparts, every inch of them." Brynden Tully sighed. "No sign of any weaknesses, anywhere."
"It seems like the Rock might truly be impregnable." Roose Bolton whispered.
"Any chance we can poison the wells?" Robb retorted.
"None." The Greatjon shook his head. "The Rock has several underground rivers running through it, even if we managed to poison some of their men, they would find another source."
"Poison is a woman's weapon." Rickard Karstark grumbled. "We don't swoop that low."
"I'll go that low if it helps to protect my family and save more northern lives." Robb sighed, pouring himself a cup of ale as he looked at the plans.
"Lord Stark, I might have a solution to your problem." A voice made itself heard through the war room.
All eyes turned to a small figure in the back of the command tent, a man not really intimidating in appearance, but with a large trident on his back that revealed his identity.
"Speak, Lord Reed." Robb sighed as the crannogman moved forward.
"We crannogmen are expert scouts, we can detect passages like no other. However, I must admit that we cannot breach the ramparts through the coastal side." He pointed at the map. "But we haven't explored the sea side yet. I've learnt that a castle like this generates a lot of shit and piss. Surely, they don't just keep it in there and throw buckets out from the ramparts? Those sewers must lead to the sea."
"What do you need?" Robb nodded, not giving away a faint smile he kept at the back of his lips.
"A few rowboats, and a few good men, expert in silent movement. Wildlings and crannogmen would do the trick. Mormonts can also do the job provided they aren't fat so as to not get stuck in the sewers."
"Who did you just call fat you little…" Lyra Mormont raged but quickly backed down as the looks darted to her.
"Right." Robb nodded. "You will have these. But how will we know you have succeeded?"
"If I succeed in infiltrating the castle, I'll have the western gate opened when the moon is the highest in the sky, and then you'll be able to attack." Reed answered.
"Very well. You have a week Howland, I need these boats to ferry gold and supplies through the Riverlands, they are precious, don't waste them." The Stark lord answered as he dismissed the meeting.
Robb Stark truly didn't expect him to succeed, but it was a shot he could afford to take, a week without a dozen rowboats wouldn't be that hard a strain on logistics, and he could focus on the battle ahead with Tywin Lannister.
He'd recalled Bran and Edmure Tully's hosts and made them stay at Pinkmaiden to observe any movement on the Goldroad, and taken a contingent of knights of the Vale to bolster his own heavy horse.
Good news kept piling up with the fall of the Stormlands, and Arya being safe and sound with Jon. Now all that was left to worry about was the Lannisters…well and the threat that lurked beyond the wall, but that was another issue entirely.
So, for four days, he waited and waited, looking without much hope at the western gate. And every night when the moon was high in the sky, it did not open. Howland Reed came back every day, saying "they were close to a breakthrough" but nothing came of it.
Nothing until tonight that is. As Robb walked in front of his tent, a few shouts coming from the outer walls were heard. Nothing unusual, as the soldiers atop the walls generally taunted the Northmen at all hours.
But this time was different, he could hear large thuds and flops, and sent men to investigate. Then, he saw a man drop from the ramparts, his throat slit. The golden lion sigil on his mail left no room for doubt, this was a Lannister man.
Then, to Robb's disbelief, he saw the drawbridge of the western gate slowly lower itself. Quickly, he rallied his troops, in as much silence as could be. However, word spread fast, and soon everyone wanted to be the first to enter the fearsome fortress.
The entry was a bloodbath. Robb, Rickard Karstark, Brynden Tully and Stevron Frey entered the castle in the second line, and the whole courtyard was already in chaos. Lannisters were fighting men in Tully, Stark or Arryn cloaks, with the lions falling back towards the second set of ramparts, and the infamous lion's gate.
The lion's gate had never fallen.
Fueled with rage and desire to end it all, Robb lunged forwards.
"NORTHERNERS, TO THE GATE!" he howled at the top of his lungs, followed by a company of footmen eager to be the first through the legendary feature.
However, the Lannisters were ready for them. Soon enough, hot oil and rocks were being thrown at the Northerners and Riverlanders, who struggled to keep formation. For a moment, Robb thought he'd be stuck between the outer and inner walls with his host.
"And now what?" Brynden Tully shook his head.
Robb was about to answer truthfully that he didn't know, but a feminine voice interrupted him.
"Don't worry kneeler, this is our job." The blonde-haired woman patted him on the back like he was her best friend and whistled towards the western gate.
Suddenly, two full-grown giants appeared, holding chains as wide as the width of a full-grown man. Under a flurry of arrows, the giants attached the chains to the iron-barred gate and started pulling.
Robb and his men stared baffled as the giants shrugged off any attempts on their lives and continued pulling. Then one bar broke, then two, then three, then four. And then the gate fell. And hell followed with it.
One giant crumbled, from exhaustion or his injuries Robb didn't know, and didn't particularly care as he joined his host in storming the Rock.
The Lannisters were desperate now, as they came at the Northmen under-armoured, holding anything as a weapon. Robb had to fend off two chandelier attacks, three chairs, a stool and even a whole table. But he kept slashing and slashing his way up towards the tower overlooking the sea.
It was dawn when the fighting finally ended, with Lannisters dropping their swords everywhere. Robb looked at his armour, red in blood and guts from six gruelling hours of fighting, but the sunrise on the ocean in front of him left no doubt as to the result of the battle. He'd won.
"Lord Stark!" Howland Reed yelled at the top of his lungs; his own body covered in blood. He was accompanying a man looking defeated, but who managed to keep an ounce of dignity nonetheless as he tried to stand up to Robb defiantly. "This, is Kevan Lannister."
Robb smiled and eyed the man, who met his gaze easily, still trying to stay as defiant as possible.
"Well, Ser Kevan." Robb chuckled. "It seems the Rock isn't impregnable after all."
"My brother will come. And he will crush your host." Ser Kevan growled.
"Mayhaps." Robb shrugged. "But when he comes, I'll make sure that he knows the north remembers. And I will make sure his incest-ridden Lannister dynasty ends at the foot of the walls of his family home."
Kevan didn't answer, and instead just looked into Robb's eyes, as if to look for a hint of fear or intimidation. But there was none. Robb then turned his gaze towards his men, who were amassing in the courtyard below.
"THE ROCK HAS FALLEN!" Robb shouted. "WE ARE VICTORIOUS!"
"STARK! STARK!"
"TULLY! TULLY!"
"JAEHAERYS! JAEHAERYS!"
A flurry of chants erupted as Robb turned back towards Kevan, smiling from ear to ear.
"Send a message to your brother. Tell him we're ready."
Next Chapter: Tywin meets Robb, and a few surprises.