Chapter One: Robb
When dawn broke a league away from Bitterbridge, Robb Stark was already awake in his tent, pacing the floor as he thought about what to say.
Renly Baratheon, the King in Highgarden, had amassed a host of nearly 100,000. The might of the Reach and the Stormlands were behind him, whereas Robb only had the North and the Riverlands, and a host of maybe 30,000. Robb laughed as he thought about the pale comparison between the two hosts and what the Greatjon Umber would say: "Northmen are worth five Southron soldiers any day!" By those numbers, Robb had the advantage. He laughed as he imagined telling Renly that.
Grey Wind was still sleeping; he had been hunting late into the night. But when Robb stepped near, the direwolf leapt to his feet and gave a small growl, as if to say, You weren't thinking of leaving without me? Shaking his head with a mild chuckle, Robb emerged from his tent to find the Greatjon, Maege Mormont, and Ser Wendel Manderly already awake and cooking breakfast.
"Good morrow, Your Grace," called the Greatjon with a mouthful of bread. Grey Wind padded over to the fire where Ser Wendel gave him a roast quail to devour.
"Good morrow, Greatjon. Mind your manners today, I'd hate to have to tell the Smalljon that he is now the Lord of Last Hearth because his father mouthed off to some southron soldiers."
"Ha! Good one, Your Grace," laughed Maege Mormont.
"If anyone is going to spoil this treat, do you not think it more likely that the She-Bear with her uncouth ways of fucking bears will be the one," shot back the Greatjon. With a disapproving yet amused look from Robb, the Lord of Last Hearth smiled and said, "No need to worry, Your Grace. I'll keep my tongue so long as Renly Baratheon agrees to help. Otherwise, he might find my sword shoved up his bunghole just before we leave."
Ser Wendel snorted. "I think your sword might find some competition with Ser Loras', my Lord."
Robb turned as the three lords snickered at that, but said nothing. According to Ser Wendel, Renly's camp was not far, for they were due to reach the upper Mander today. Now I truly must think about what I am going to say to him. He kept thinking about just what he would say to the King in Highgarden as they set out. The air was warm and humid in the Reach, and the lands were relatively flat and easy to traverse. The sky was cloudy, though no rain was expected. It had been nearly five days since they had departed Riverrun. He had almost sent his mother in his stead, but she had convinced him otherwise. "He may see it as an insult if you do not go to treat with him yourself," she warned. Robb had left the Blackfish in command, ordering him and Ser Edmure to hold the ancestral castle of House Tully no matter what. The Blackfish had snorted when Robb gave him his orders just before he departed. "I will never allow Tywin Lannister to take my home from me, Your Grace. Have no fear on that account."
Around midday, Robb's scout, Robin Flint, came back to announce that sentries on a mill had spotted him, though when they reached the mill, it was not two sentries that awaited them, but rather a small outrider group of twenty men that greeted Robb courteously.
"Greetings, Lord Stark. I have the honor to be Ser Colen of Greenpools, here to escort you to his Grace, King Renly Baratheon, the true king of the Seven Kingdoms."
Robb noted that the knight called him 'lord' rather than 'king' but said nothing. He shot a warning glance at the Greatjon, who, as Robb expected, had opened his mouth to correct the outriders. With Robb's glance, the Greatjon reluctantly closed his mouth. "Lead the way, Ser Colen," commanded Robb.
As they rode, Ser Colen announced that they would head for Bitterbridge, for that was where Renly's host was encamped. Robb noticed that Renly's knights were very wary of Grey Wind, who seemed to take their riding as challenge to run faster. Soon enough, they could smell the smoke of fires burning in the morning breeze, and the sounds of horses whinnying and men shouting filled their ears, growing louder and more raucous as they approached.
Robb thought he knew what a lot of men were when he called the banners of the North and 20,000 men answered his call. Then they passed over a hill and saw Renly's mighty host.
A sprawl of 100,000 men were encamped in the valley on the banks of the Mander. Their house banners were raised high into the air. I should have sent my mother. She would probably know all of these houses and would not insult one by not recognizing them. Robb recognized the golden rose of House Tyrell emblazoned on green fluttering in the wind, with many smaller house banners around. He recognized the fox-and-flowers of House Florent and the red huntsman on dark green for House Tarly, the burgundy banners of House Redwyne, but that was all.
To the other side of the Mander, the Stormlords were not to be outdone by the Reachmen. The green sea turtle of House Estermont and the quills of House Penrose were the ones he noticed, but the giant banner that drew Robb's attention was the familiar crowned black stag on gold of House Baratheon. Renly's banner hung over the most impressive tent in the camp, drawing eyes to it immediately.
Next to Robb, Maege Mormont stopped her horse and leaned over. "This king must not be very concerned about enemies if he's just going to announce where his quarters are in the camp."
Ser Colen heard her. "His Grace is protected by 100,000 men. No enemy could get through to him even if they tried."
Robb pushed forward. "Good ser, take me to see King Renly if it please."
The outriders guided them not to Renly's tent, but to a large clearing where it seemed at least 10,000 men were encircled watching something. By the sounds emanating from the clearing it was a melee tourney.
"I wish I could enter, Your Grace," rumbled the Greatjon. "I would show all these southron men how a northman fights true enough!"
Robb smiled. If we were not here so urgently, I might've let the Greatjon do such a thing. Ser Colen stopped his horse. "Lord Stark, if your men would be so kind as to wait here, I shall present you to the king. And if you wouldn't mind, please, um, leave the wolf."
Robb nodded, for words would never reach Ser Colen's ears with this kind of roar. He turned to Lady Maege. "Keep them in line, and please do not do anything foolish." Maege grinned and nodded as she disembarked her horse. Robb leaned down to Grey Wind in earshot of the others. "Stay by the Greatjon. If he does anything you do not like, take a few more fingers." Robb saw the Greatjon grin widely as Robb turned and followed Ser Colen's horse, though it was difficult with the crowd.
As they pushed through the mass, Robb glanced at the melee fighters. One man, decked in blue, seemed to be the man to beat. He was far taller than any of the other men, and he sported the quartered sun-and-moon sigil of House Tarth. As Robb rode forward, he was aware that the blue knight was winning, and rather easily too. The men around him shouted, some in glee, some in surprise, and others yelling for Loras Tyrell.
Renly Baratheon sits here holding tourneys while my men bleed every day to fight Tywin Lannister. I could put these men to good use, blood them properly.
At last, he could see the gallery properly, where many of the lords and ladies whose banners he had recognized were watching. Lord Randyll Tarly beneath his huntsman banner was watching, with a look of indifference upon his face. Under the green sea turtle of House Estermont sat Lord Eldon Estermont. Robb scanned their faces and spotted the one he was looking for.
Renly Baratheon was Robert all over again, but instead of fat and thick-bearded, he was lean and clean. When Robert had visited Winterfell, Robb had expected a lean, fierce warrior, and instead got a fat, albeit fierce drunk who fathered numerous bastards and yet had no idea that three children he believed were his were not. Renly looked exactly how Eddard Stark used to speak about Robert. He looks like his brother who toppled the Targaryens. Perhaps he can oust the Lannisters.
But it was the girl who sat next to Renly that caused Robb's heart to skip a beat.
Renly's queen was none other than Margaery Tyrell, daughter of Lord Mace Tyrell, the Lord of Highgarden, Lord Paramount of the Reach, and the Warden of the South. She had a doe's sweet eyes and long, light brown locks that fell to her shoulders in lazy ringlets. When Robb looked at Margaery, he wanted nothing more than to be near her. To talk to her. To feel the warmth of her touch. To hear the song that would come every time she spoke. Those rumors cannot be true about Renly. The most beautiful girl in the world sits beside him. With a beauty like her, why would anyone prefer the company of anyone else?
But then Robb awakened back to reality. The girl was another king's queen, and he was promised to a Frey. A king for a crossing, what a stupid price to pay. Those thoughts had come not for the first time since the Twins, but stronger than ever as he gazed upon Margaery's face. Robb shook his head and turned his attention to the tourney at hand.
In the melee, Ser Loras Tyrell was the last man against the blue knight. The Knight of Flowers raised his axe, but the blue knight charged into it and both of them went sprawling. The blue knight tackled Loras and pulled a knife from its sheath. He held it at the queen's brother's throat.
The roar had subsided, and Robb could properly hear Loras mutter, "Yield. I yield."
As Loras clambered away to regroup, the blue knight came before Renly and knelt. "Rise and remove your helm," the king commanded.
The blue knight removed his helm, and Robb saw that it was not a he at all. The warrior lady rose and exchanged words with Renly, but Robb leaned over to Ser Cleon. "Who is that?"
"Brienne of Tarth, daughter to Lord Selwyn Tarth of Evenfall Hall."
"You don't say," replied Robb. He could tell that the fact that a woman had bested a knight was unsettling to more than a few in the crowd. Personally, Robb did not see the issue, for a warrior was a warrior, especially if she could defeat someone who had the skills of Loras Tyrell. Hell, his own bannerman, Maege Mormont was proud of her prowess in combat, and loved to remind the other Northern lords of this. Robb looked up and was pleased to see that Renly seemed to have the same mindset.
"Done. You shall be one of my seven! Rise, Brienne of the Kingsguard!" Renly clapped, as did the queen. The rest only joined in when Renly did, but Robb doubted Brienne cared as she looked at Renly with pride.
Ser Cleon dismounted, and Robb followed. "Your Grace, I beg your leave. I have the honor to bring you Robb Stark, Lord of Winterfell."
Robb felt the words escape his lips before he could stop them, "Lord of Winterfell and King in the North." Renly looked at him, and Robb felt all eyes turn to him.
Renly smiled warmly, though there was a slight look of surprise on his face. "Of course, King Robb. Titles are rather unimportant, what with the present war at hand. There will be time for all that later. Nevertheless, we are most pleased to have you in our company. May I present my beloved wife, the Lady Margaery of House Tyrell."
Queen Margaery leaned forward. "You are most welcome here, King Robb. I am so sorry for your recent loss." As Robb expected, her voice seemed to fill him with unbound strength. He almost wished Tywin Lannister and his whole army were here right now; with her speaking to him, he felt as if he could take on all of them at once. He wondered if this was the feeling the Greatjon seemed to constantly possess.
"You are most kind, Your Grace."
"I swear to you that I will see the Lannisters answer for your father's murder." In a slightly higher and more commanding voice, Renly announced, "When I take King's Landing, I'll bring you Joffrey's head!" The lords and knights around him roared in approval.
"Thank you, Your Grace, but it will be enough to know that justice has been done."
"Have you marched against Tywin Lannister yet?" interrupted Loras Tyrell. The Knight of Flowers had recovered from his defeat and had marched over to face Robb. Before he could answer, Lord Randyll Tarly spoke up, "At least you had the decency to come pay homage to King Renly yourself. What have you done with the Kingslayer?"
Robb faced Ser Loras first. "My war councils are just that, ser. Mine. Perhaps if we come to an agreement I would be more than happy to share with you my plans. But make no mistake, ser, I am fighting a war. Not playing at one."
That drew a laugh from the crowd, the king included. But Robb noticed that the queen did not laugh. Robb turned to Lord Randyll. "As for the Kingslayer, he remains my prisoner at Riverrun."
One of the other lords, the one seated beneath a golden tree, leaned forward. "Why is he still alive?"
"If I had the Kingslayer, I'd slit his throat without a second thought."
"Perhaps the direwolf is tamer than the lion."
"Show the Lannisters that you pay your debts too! They killed your father, pay them back by killing Joffrey's!"
Many other calls and yells had arisen from the status of Jaime Lannister's imprisonment. But Renly silenced them all by raising his hand and turning to the golden tree lord. "Lord Rowan go easy. Any man who can capture the Kingslayer is no weakling. And lest we forget, Cersei Lannister has his sisters as captives in King's Landing."
Renly turned to Robb. "My lords, find suitable places for our guests. King Robb, you are welcome to use mine own pavilion. After you are rested, perhaps you would be so kind as to dine with me, my sweet queen, and mine lords." With that, Renly rose from the gallery and strode off toward the castle of Bitterbridge, leading Margaery away. The queen glanced at Robb one last time and followed the king towards the castle, along with Brienne of Tarth, Ser Loras, and about thirty other lords and knights.
Robb turned and strode towards Renly's impressive tent. Ser Cleon had taken Robb's companions to their own tents, and Grey Wind had already made himself at home on a fur rug that lay at the side of Robb's bed. Inside, Renly's armor decked the green halls of the canvas tent, but it was obvious from the lack of marks that the armor had rarely, if ever, been used. There was scarcely something Robb could imagine that was not provided for him in the tent, from entertainment to reading material. Robb could not imagine trying to lug this luxury around the Riverlands. Oh yes, the Mountain is approaching, you say? Sure, let me put down my harp and board games and show him what for!"
For the first time in what felt like eons, Robb removed his armor and wore the white and grey garb he had worn when King Robert and the royal court had visited Winterfell. He had become so accustomed to battle that he honestly wore nothing but armor except to sleep. At last, he was ready to attend the feast and summoned Grey Wind to accompany him. He wondered what his mother would say if she knew he was going to treat with mistrusting lords and ladies with a wild animal at his side.
When Robb arrived at the feast, all eyes turned to him and the whispers began as he and Grey Wind strode into the hall. The bemused look on Renly's face made it difficult not to laugh as he approached the dais.
"My apologies, Your Grace. My friend here was a tad hungry and I could not refuse him a proper meal. It did not seem prudent to let him wander the woods for supper."
Renly laughed, but was more interested in studying Grey Wind. "As long as you promise he won't eat any of my bannermen, he may stay. I say, a direwolf south of the Wall…" Queen Margaery on the other hand was very interested in Grey Wind. She gazed at him curiously before gently tossing a roast goose down to him. It never made it to the floor, for Grey Wind leapt up and snatched it out of the air. Many of the other lords gasped, one even actually stood and ran a few paces before quickly sitting back down, but Margaery looked most impressed.
During the feast, Robb sat next to Lord Mathis Rowan, the Lord of Goldengrove who had called him out for not killing Jaime Lannister. To his right was Renly himself, who likewise had Margaery on his right. Robb could not remember the last time he ate food with such splendor. Highgarden, the seat of House Tyrell, had provided the feast, and they did not disappoint. But it was the lords that Robb was most anxious to observe.
Renly spoke with Margaery and planted light kisses on her cheek during the feast, but seemed more lively with Ser Loras, who stood behind his sister. Many of the other lords were lively and became less composed as the feast wore on, and Robb ended up making conversation with Lord Rowan and Brienne of Tarth, who seemed most interested in her food, only looking up when spoken to.
"I hope you will forgive me, Lord Stark, for my rudeness earlier today, it is not my place to tell you what to do with your prisoners. I had forgotten the Lannisters have your sisters."
"There's nothing to forgive, Lord Rowan."
"These men are so young, you know. Barely men and marching off to war against the likes of Tywin Lannister and Stannis Baratheon."
"My mother would pity them, my lord. And for good reason."
Brienne of Tarth looked up at Robb. "For what reason could you have to pity them?"
"Because they are the knights of summer, and winter is coming," replied the Young Wolf.
Both Brienne and Lord Rowan looked derisive. "Winter will never come for us. We will either die gloriously in battle in the name of King Renly and be immortalized in the songs of summer or else we will fight and live to see His Grace crowned," Brienne exclaimed boldly.
Robb said nothing, but in his head recalled something his father once told him. 'The Stark words never lie. Winter will always come, again and again.'
Suddenly, Renly leaned over to Robb. "Apologies, my friends. Might I steal away the King in the North for a few moments?"
Brienne leapt to her feet. "Your Grace, give me a but a moment to don my mail and keep you safe."
Renly waved her off. "No need, Brienne. Eat and enjoy your victory. I daresay I am in no danger surrounded by own men, and should any trouble arise, the Young Wolf and I can fight off any challenge together."
Robb could tell that Renly's words stung Brienne, but the warrior the others mockingly called "Beauty" said nothing and sat down to her meal. Robb followed Renly out of the pavilion.
The two kings strolled along the hall and up a stair tower. "I meant what I said to Lady Brienne. Together, I believe that Stark and Baratheon can fight off any peril, even the Lannisters."
Robb mulled over that as Renly changed the subject. "Is Ser Barristan Selmy in your service at Riverrun?"
That took Robb by surprise. "The Lord Commander of Robert's Kingsguard? Should he not still be in King's Landing, sworn to Joffrey?"
Renly shook his head as they ascended another staircase. "Apparently, the Lannisters dismissed him shortly after Joffrey took the Iron Throne. Said he was getting too old. I'd take a single Barristan Selmy over a hundred swords any day. Legendary warrior, you know. When he did not turn up at Highgarden, I assumed he had gone to Riverrun for you. It's said that he left to fight for the true king."
Changing topics again, Renly said, "Of your father, he was a good man. He was loyal to Robert through and through. I offered to help ensure his place on the throne, but he would not hear of it. I am sorry that I did not stay to help him, but I knew Cersei would capture me if I stayed in the capital."
Robb gave a solitary nod. Even now, thinking of his father was hard. The stories had come from all over at Riverrun, but the details that seemed to recur the most was that Eddard Stark confessed to treason against the Crown and was beheaded in front of his daughter.
Just then, a knight caught up to them. "Ser Alyn Estermont," greeted Renly.
"Your Grace, beg your pardon, but Ser Loras is requesting to speak with you privately."
Renly nodded. "Of course. A strategy session. Robb, I would like to continue our discussion afterwards. If you would like, await me in my chambers. Ser Alyn here will escort you." With that, Renly strode briskly away.
Ser Alyn led Robb up to the top floor and pointed to a chamber door. "Wait for the king in there."
Robb entered the chamber and was surprised to see he was not alone.
Margaery Tyrell sat on the floor, stroking Grey Wind's fur ever so gently. It was only then that Robb remembered he had left Grey Wind at the feast. The fact that the direwolf trusted Margaery so quickly was surprising.
"Hello, Your Grace. Your companion, Lord Umber, was showing his hands at the feast and claimed that your wolf bit his fingers off. I was leaving anyway, so I thought I would prevent any lords from panicking by bringing him here."
Robb regained his composure. "It is no trouble at all, Your Grace. But please, call me Robb."
"Only if you call me Margaery."
Robb smiled. "It's a deal. So, Grey Wind seems to have taken a liking to you. Perhaps he likes your scent."
"He is so sweet. I can scarcely believe that this adorable creature has killed other men. You know, some men claim you ride into battle on his back."
Robb sat down on the floor next to her, scratching Grey Wind's chin. "Actually, Grey Wind runs beside me. He's saved my life more times than I think is reasonable."
Robb suddenly found himself with limited thoughts, so he smiled as warmly as he could. In return, Margaery gave him a soft, sweet smile. I hope Renly's strategy session isn't too short. "So, you are the queen," he said awkwardly, trying to think of something to say. Margaery laughed. "Yes, and you are a king. Do you have a queen?"
"I am betrothed to one of Lord Walder Frey's daughters. We shall marry as soon as the war is over."
Margaery smirked at him. "Lord Frey? I mean no offense, but why would you agree to marry one of his daughters? You are so comely, and from what I've heard, his family is, well, not." She said the last bit with an embarrassed look on her face. "I am sorry, I did not mean to insult the family of your future bride."
Robb shook his head. "I did not want it. But it was the price I paid to cross the Twins. I have sworn a vow; I must keep it."
Margaery nodded, understanding. "I know how you feel. My king, I met him only on the day of our wedding, and it was solely to unite our houses."
"I hope that you are happy with King Renly. I only met His Grace today, but he seems like a good man. You have made him happy."
Margaery's expression turned a little wistful. "His Grace is indeed a good man, but…"
"But…what?" asked Robb.
"It is nothing. I should not have spoken."
"Forgive me for prying, Margaery."
Margaery looked at Robb with a curious look on her face. "It has long been said that the walls of the Red Keep have ears. If I am to say something, I would like to say it without fear that someone would overhear it. Renly will take King's Landing, and when he does, I may never get another chance to tell someone."
"What is it?"
"Renly's happiness does not come from my company. He prefers the company of my brother, Ser Loras."
So the rumors were true. "My queen, if you are unhappy…"
Margaery gazed into Robb's eyes. "I thought I asked you to call me Margaery. Also, I am not unhappy. I am queen, and soon I will be the queen of all Seven Kingdoms, not just two. But, I must confess, I would be happier if I was married to a man who enjoyed my company."
"I enjoy your company, Lady Margaery." The words slipped out before he could stop them, and Robb found himself gazing into Margaery's soft brown eyes. Her eyes are so warm…Renly Baratheon is a lucky man, even if he does not know it.
Suddenly, both of them stood up so quickly that Grey Wind stood too and snarled at the sudden lack of stroking and scratching. "Your royal husband is to meet me here. We did not get a chance to finish our conversation. I might meet with him in the hall." Robb spoke so quickly he was not sure Margaery even understood him. Robb and Grey Wind burst out the door…smack into Renly.
"Robb, there you are. A rider has just informed me. My own seat, Storm's End, is under siege. I must head there immediately. I would ask you to accompany me."
Robb shook his head. "Lord Tywin could not have possibly left Harrenhal and made it all the way to Storm's End before my bannermen would have notified me."
Renly smirked. "It is not the Lannisters. It is my dear elder brother, King Stannis, as he so calls himself."
Author's Note: So this story will cover an alternate path of the War of the Five Kings, incorporating elements from both the books and the TV show. I plan to take it from Robb Stark going to treat with Renly Baratheon instead of Catelyn all the way through Daenerys Targaryen's war for Westeros. Also, as a disclaimer, I do not own George R.R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire or the characters.
