Winterfell
He was finally separated from his son, his only living child now, after having been forced to share the small cell with him for countless weeks. He had never before experienced much patience or joy in the company of his illbegotten son, but after having been forced into this close living with him, even the last barrier was nearly reached.
He could not remember anymore what the last spark was, which then finally had set the glimmering madness in his mind up into a burning and all control consuming Fire, nor did he really care to even think about it anymore.
It had felt good though. It had felt good to strangle the creatures short neck, to feel him struggling against the fatherly rage, against the ever more tightening hands, against the oncoming death. The possibility, the good Chance to finally get rid of this murdering thing, this creature whose birth murdered its own mother, it all was just so righteous.
And then he had been hit, over his head, on his arms, his fingers had been forced to open, his legs had been kicked apart and he had been forced away from this gasping, twitching thing which was his son.
He would have needed just a few more moments, just a few more seconds of denied breathing and he would have had no more living children.
They had brought his last sadly living son away, out of this cell, closed the door after them and he was finally alone. Blessed silence. No more sharp tongued dwarf near him, spitting on the proud legacy and twisting the honor of his family. But no, that had been done by all three of them, had it not?
All three of them, of his own children, had ruined his legacy, his honor and the pride of his noble and ancient House.
The door opened once more and a boy stepped inside. No, not a boy anymore, but the acting Lord Stark. He scoffed. The acting Lord was still a boy to him though.
"What do you want, boy?"
...
The young Lord who had entered the Cell, stayed for a moment in the doorway, looking at the older Lord who had just asked him what he wanted. Then though, he calmly walked into the small, barely lit room, his young handsome mien showing no emotion whatsoever. He stopped in front of his prisoner and calmly looked down to the sitting older man.
If the Lannister Lord would have been standing, then he would have had the advantage of the superior height but since he remained sitting, the younger man was towering over him.
The prisoner looked up to the young Lord and repeated his question, this time with a clearly snarling voice.
"What do you want, boy?"
The younger man remained silent once more, his mien still showed no emotion and he just kept standing there, directly in front of the Lion Lord.
After a few more heartbeats, the older man once more opened his mouth as to say something but now, the young Lord finally reacted.
"Do you know why you are still alive, Lord Lannister?"
The older man flared up his nostrils at the blunt question and the snort which followed, was accompanied by an arrogant sounding harruumphing noise.
"I am still alive because I did no crime and because there would be War if you would have murdered me, after all you are holding me here to force my brother's hands to stay still and because you are still only a boy and you would not even dare to put me to sword without the word of your father and the King." answered the Lion Lord in a dismissive tone.
The younger Lord's lips turned up into a slight smile.
"The word of the King is the only reason why your grandson is still alive, for King Robert had put him under the guard of Winterfell and thus under mine, till he knows for sure that he would not fall to the same crime which your grandson had committed so gleefully. That is the only reason why this sibling murderer, this Kinslayer Joffrey still has his head, just because King Robert needs to find out if this little monster is his own son or not.
You though, Lord Lannister, are partly right about why you are kept here, because with you here, your Westerlanders are forced to remain peaceful but if you would had succeeded in killing your son, then I would still have taken your life for being a kinslayer, for the King put you under the laws of my family and no matter how important for peace and how valuable you are to us all, our laws are strict for kinslaying. So be glad that you have not managed to murder your son or your head would have been departed from your neck by my own sword."
The sitting man sneered when he heard the words of the younger one.
He looked up into the face of the standing young man and his thin lips and some muscles under his skin moved just a tiny fraction, so that his stern mien now looked like he was smiling sardonically.
"You boy, you would not have the stomach for beheading me. With the King's words or without, with your father's words or without, you yourself would simply not have the guts to behead another Lord for something like this, for some in-family problems."
And with these mocking words on his lips, Lord Lannister was now standing up, directly in front of the younger man, so close that barely a hand could fit between their bodies and the old Lion used his extra couple of inches in heightto look down onto the young Wolf.
In the first few heartbeats of both men now standing and so close together too, nothing happened besides that Lord Tywin's lips turned a tiny fraction more upwards. Then though, the young Wolf stepped backwards and away from the towering Lannister Lord, though not by much more than the span of two hands and then, before the older Lord could react in anyway to the younger man's changed standing, Lord Robb punched the older man hard in his belly.
The Lion Lord coughed out his breath because of the hard, short punch and before he could even try to react, he received another hard punch, this time directly in his face. The Lion's nose gave way to the hard force, the bones clearly damaged and blood streaming from both nostrils.
The older man tried to bring up his own arms, either to just defend himself or to attack the younger one, but he just was not quick enough, for he already was punched for a second time in his belly and then received two quick punches onto his manhood. These were really too much, the Lion Lord snapped forward first and then crumbled downwards because the last two punches just forced him to the ground.
And while the proud Lion was now half laying and half cowering down on the floor of the cell, painfilled grunts and wheezes now the only noises from his mouth, the young Wolf was standing tall above him, his young mien still calm and his breathing unbothered and even.
He looked down at the older man.
"As long as my father is in the South, I am the ruling Lord of these Lands and as the Lord here, I absolutely abide the laws of our Lands and I see to it, that all others abide them too, even other Lords. So, you Lord Lannister should be thankful that you were interrupted in your handling of your in-family problems or you would have now not just tasted my fists for your behavior but my sword instead for kinslaying. You should not forget this lesson."
After that, the young Lord turned around and left the cell, while the older Lord was still on the floor in pain.
The old Lion watched the young Wolf leaving and he narrowed his eyes slightly. He promised himself to give this painful attack back to the young Wolf tenfolds.