Author's Note: Hey everybody, thank you so much for the amazing reviews! I'm so thrilled that everyone seems to be enjoying the story so far – I'm so excited to write each and every chapter. I hope you guys like this one as well! Special thanks to mcummings329 for reading through this and answering my questions!
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Chapter 16: King in the North
His fingers dug into the sides of his wife's thighs, gritting his teeth against the overwhelming pleasure and trying desperately to hold back as she rode him, lifting and rolling her hips in the most erotic way. He could feel how close she was in the way she fluttered around him, in how her nails dug in to his chest and the way her throaty moans grew louder. He loved how uninhibited she was when they were like this, her noises unchecked and every movement performed because she wanted to, not because she was trying to impress him.
"Robb," she whimpered throatily, her eyelashes fluttering. A growl rumbled deep in his chest as her expressive brown eyes disappeared and he suddenly sat up, surprising her as he fisted his hand in the hair on the back of her neck, wrenching her head back and causing her eyes to shoot open again. He held them for a second, watching as he began to lift his hips to match her thrusts. "Yes," she hissed, her forehead tilting down to meet his own, her hands sliding up his neck to grasp either side of his face, her lips crashing down to his hungrily.
Sweat clung to their bodies as their pace grew even faster, each of them driving the other higher and higher until finally, they both plummeted over the edge. Robb swallowed her surprised cry as she fell apart before following her, his eyes clenched shut, a groan in his throat as white spots danced behind his eyelids.
He didn't remember collapsing back against the pillows – both of them must have passed out for a few moments, because when Robb became aware of his surroundings again, Maliya was sprawled across his chest, their legs tangled as the sweat began to dry on their skin. Heart still galloping in his chest, Robb lazily pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "I've missed you," he murmured, smiling slightly as he ran his fingers through her hair.
He felt her eyelashes flutter against his chest as her eyes opened, turning her head so she could look up at him. She propped her chin on her hands, her eyes twinkling happily. "And I love you," she whispered almost shyly, completely different to how she first told him just a couple hours ago.
His smile widened, still hardly daring to believe that this was real and this was happening. "I love you too, Maliya, even if you are the most stubborn, infuriating woman that I have ever met," he teased lightly, even though his words were true.
"Then it seems we are a perfect match," Maliya responded, giving him a significant look and making him roll his eyes. She sighed heavily. "So I can assume that you are still mad at me?"
Wanting desperately to avoid another fight, Robb cast his mind around to figure out a way to explain his thoughts without upsetting either one of them. "I'm… frustrated," he corrected, frowning as he thought. "I know that way of life in Dorne is different than here, but women do not typically fight on the battlefield, Maliya. Just the thought of having you out there, in danger, terrifies me."
"Rhaenys and Visenya Targaryen fought alongside their brother Aegon when they conquered Westeros," Maliya countered, looking a little annoyed but struggling to keep her voice even.
Robb quirked an eyebrow. "That was three centuries ago," he reminded her gently. "And they were riding dragons," he chuckled, shaking his head. "Do you have a dragon hidden somewhere that you're not telling me about?"
Yes. "Of course not!" Maliya scoffed quickly. "What about Maege Mormont and her daughter Dacey?" She countered immediately. "They are both very capable fighters and women in case you haven't noticed! Seven hells, Robb, you've made Lady Mormont one of the commanders in your army!"
"That's different," Robb insisted firmly. "All of the women of Bear Island have to learn to protect themselves from the raiding ironborn while their men are away. They are the exception – "
"Well maybe they shouldn't be!" Maliya cried, pushing off his chest and sitting up. Robb was saddened to see that despite his best efforts she had become agitated anyway. He was even more saddened to see her wrap the sheet around herself and hide her body from his view. "Did you know that my uncle Oberyn has taught of each of his eight daughters to fight?" She asked him, getting herself worked up as she kneeled on the bed next to him. "When he went to go claim my cousin Obara, her mother did not want him to take her. She cried and he threw a spear at Obara's feet. He pointed to both of them and asked which weapon she would choose. She picked up the spear, Robb." He just blinked at her, not comprehending the importance of the story and she huffed. "How can I make you understand this?" She muttered, an adorable crease forming between her eyebrows as she thought. "Fighting is to me what being the heir to Winterfell is to you. It's a part of who I am, it's a part of my identity. I am not the type of woman to stay meekly in the tent while you're off fighting the battles. It's like me asking you to allow Bran be to Lord of Winterfell in your place."
Robb nodded slowly. "I think… I think I understand where you're coming from, Maliya."
She sighed again, the fight draining out of her. "But it doesn't change how you feel about it," she concluded, her voice heavy.
"I don't want to fight again," Robb told her, sitting up and reaching for her, his hands sliding down her arms as he coaxed her to lie back down with him. "This night has been too perfect for that."
"I'm going to change your mind about this," Maliya promised, reluctantly allowing him to pull her close again, her head on his chest and one of her legs entwined with his. "One of these days we're going to be fighting the Lannisters side by side."
Robb didn't think that day would ever come, but he wasn't about to tell her that. He decided it was time to change the subject. "Where did you get these?" He asked in concern, turning her arm over to reveal four semi-healed scratches down her forearm. Maliya fell silent, gently running a hand over the scratches. "Maliya?"
"I failed, Robb," she confessed in a whisper, sounding genuinely upset. "I messed up in a very large way and I don't think I will be able to fix it."
Robb's concern was growing at the tone of her voice. "What happened Maliya?"
"I – I promised Rickon that I wouldn't leave Winterfell," she told him in a soft voice. "He overheard me telling Bran and Maester Luwin about my decision to join you before I was able to tell him. He was so mad, Robb. He was yelling, he called me a liar and when I tried to explain myself to him I must have gotten too close because Shaggydog – "
"Shaggy did this to you?" Robb interrupted sharply, alarm running through him as he sat up slightly, shifting her so he could see her face. "I know Rickon and Shaggy had been a little wild when I had left, but I cannot believe he attacked you – "
"He was feeding off of Rickon's anger and fear, Robb," Maliya told him gently. "Shaggy was just warning me away. I don't blame either of them for one second – this was entirely my fault." She shook her head and looked down. Robb could have sworn he glimpsed a sheen of tears in her eyes. "I handled the whole thing poorly and now I'm not sure if Rickon will ever forgive me."
"He will," Robb told her, lifting her chin with two fingers. "Once we rescue my father and my sisters and go back home, he will understand."
A single tear trickled down her cheek as she looked at him and he was surprised by how torn up she was about this. He knew that she had become very close to Rickon since she had arrived at Winterfell, but it seemed as if her heart was breaking. "You didn't see his face."
Robb was at a loss for words. He sat there silently for a moment, unsure what to say to make her feel better other than to wait until they get home so they could talk to Rickon. "I'll write to Maester Luwin and check in on both Rickon and Bran," he reassured her, gathering her in his arms once more. "I'm sorry that this happened, Maliya. I'm sorry that all of this is happening. Believe me, I would very much rather be home at Winterfell with my entire family and focusing on creating our own little family."
Maliya stilled in his arms. "Our own little family?" She repeated. He didn't seem notice that her voice was higher pitched than usual.
"Of course," Robb smiled, rubbing his hand along her bare back, his other hand folded behind his head. "Have you realized that it's been nearly a year since we've been married?" He asked, hardly able to believe it himself. "My mother always tells me how I was conceived on their wedding night, but I suppose it differs for everyone. Maybe it's for the best that you're not with child yet," Robb mused out loud, looking up at the ceiling of the tent. "Because you know what this means, don't you?" He swiftly flipped her over, slipping between her legs and hovering over her. "It just means we'll have to keep trying… every free moment that we get," he murmured, grinning before burying his face in her neck.
Maliya couldn't help but laugh at his overexaggerated attempts, even though half of her was panicking and ready to flee. She grabbed the sides of his face and pulled him away, her eyes flickering between his, a question on her face. "You… you're ready for children?" She asked hesitantly, silently praying that his answer was no. "Even with everything that's going on?"
"Well sure, I think so," Robb's smile faded slightly at the serious expression on her face, and he took the time to honestly answer her question. "I mean, the thought of being a father is more than a little terrifying – to be in charge for a little life, to take care of them and raise them is a huge responsibility. But I want to create a child with you. A son with your brown eyes or a daughter with your smile. Can't you picture it?"
No, Maliya wanted to yell. I'm not ready to become a mother! I'm not ready to put aside my plans – there are still so many things I have finish. Still so many people who have to pay for what they have done to my family. "I – I don't – " She stammered, not knowing how to respond without lying outright.
Robb seemed not to hear her. He drew back a little, his eyes troubled. "While we're talking about this, there's something I should probably tell you. Now, I don't want you to get mad and you should keep in mind that I did what was needed. There was no other way."
Maliya frowned up at him, pretty sure she wasn't going to like where this was going. "Why would I be mad?" Maliya asked slowly, trying to read his face. "What did you do?"
He sighed heavily, shifting off her. "In order to cross the Trident, Lord Frey has demanded certain… things from us."
"Bennar mentioned that he exacts tolls on those who wish to cross," Maliya muttered, feeling apprehensive. "What did you have to pay?"
"A squire, a few wards at Winterfell, a marriage betrothal for Arya and Rickon and…" he trailed off, watching her reaction as if he was waiting for her to explode. "When our first born son reaches his tenth nameday, he will be sent to be fostered at the Twins."
Maliya's mouth opened and closed several times, flabbergasted as she tried to shift through her initial feelings. Outrage was her first reaction. "You sold our future son?" She accused, her voice quietly furious. There was a delayed second reaction that questioned her anger, the small voice reminding her that she didn't want children right now anyway – it was all very confusing. "To the Frey's?"
"It was the only way for the army to cross!" Robb repeated, holding his hands out to the sides. "If we had said no than we would have been too late to save the Riverlands – "
"But that's going to be our son, Robb, our child!" Maliya exclaimed loudly, sitting up as well. Shut up, the small voice shouted. Why are you getting so upset? "I don't want to only have him for ten years and then lose him!"
"Neither do I!" Robb insisted heatedly. "I hate everything about this deal! But I'm responsible for the twenty thousand men in my army as well as all their families back home. I have to think of them before I can think of our hypothetical son."
"Believe me, I know the importance of negotiating alliances and deals," Maliya reminded him. "I was used as a pawn to broker an alliance between Dorne and Winterfell, as were you! But more than that, my brother Quentyn was sent off to be fostered when he was very young. I barely remember him, but I do remember how it tore my mother apart, day after day, year after year until she eventually left my father. I don't want that to happen to us."
"It won't," Robb reassured her, moving closer and grabbing both her hands. "We'll –"
She never heard what he was about to say because he was interrupted by the abrupt appearance of none other than Theon Greyjoy. Maliya yelped and Robb cursed, practically tackling her and yanking the sheet up higher around them to protect their modesty. "What the fuck, Greyjoy?" Robb shouted, attempting to shield her with his body as he turned to glare at his friend. "You can't just enter someone's tent without announcing yourself – "
"There's been a raven from King's Landing," Theon interrupted. Maliya felt her body tense as she took in the uncharacteristically grave expression on Theon's face and Robb must have noticed it too because he sat up. The sheet fell down around his waist as he took the rolled up parchment that Theon walked over and handed to him.
"Robb?" Maliya questioned softly, watching him unroll the letter and read it over and over again, his face going pale. She shifted to her knees next to him, making sure the sheet was completely covering her body. "Is everything alright?"
"It's bad news, isn't it?" Theon guessed, his voice solemn. "We haven't heard from them in a while."
Robb was still alarmingly silent, and Maliya was pretty sure that besides his eyes, he hadn't moved a single muscle since he opened the letter. "What is it, Robb?" Maliya urged gently, heart beginning to beat quicker as she braced herself for what he was going to say. "What do they want?"
Instead of answering them, Robb stood up, uncaring of his nudity as the letter fluttered from his fingers. Maliya watched his stiff, mechanical movements with worried eyes as he went to put on the pants and shirt that she had stripped off him just hours ago. Maliya and Theon shared an alarmed glance as Robb stepped into his boots without lacing them. "Robb, just wait a minute, tell us what's going on," Theon spoke up, trying to put a hand on Robb's shoulder. Robb shrugged him off before walking out of the tent without even bothering to put his cloak on. "What in the seven hells does that letter say?" Theon demanded roughly, trying to cover up his confusion and concern.
Maliya hesitantly reached for the letter, a little scared of what she might read. Refusing to acknowledge the fact that her fingers were trembling, she picked it up and began to read. Her breath grew shallower with every word until she stopped breathing altogether, feeling dizzy as her mind tried to discover all the implications of what she read. She looked up at Theon, her eyes wide.
"Lord Stark is dead," she told him, voice cracking. "King Joffrey had him beheaded as a traitor to the crown."
Doran watched his brother restlessly pace the length of the throne room, his continually growing frustration only serving to make him weary. His gout was steadily growing worse, his joints all red and inflamed. He now needed a stick in order to walk, which was why he had ultimately made the decision to move to the Water Gardens, where his enemies couldn't see how weak he was growing. He loved this peaceful and serene palace. There were fountains and pools for the children to play in, blood orange trees that offered a delicious scent and a soft sea breeze that made the thin curtains flutter.
"I don't know how many more times we have to go over this, Doran," Oberyn snarled, the rage leaking into his voice. "You have read this letter just as many times as I have. 'The wolves have begun to gather, the entire pack marching away from it's home. I pray everyday that the sun will guide them in the right direction and keep them safe.'" Oberyn threw the now flat and well read piece of parchment at Doran who caught it, looking down at his daughter's elegant writing. "The Starks are marching to war with the entire North at it's back. That's Maliya's family now – her husband is marching to war and if I know Maliya she's made it so that she's right there next to him. We are the sun, Doran, she's asking us for our help. We cannot turn her away. We cannot sit here and do nothing!"
"That is not what I'm suggesting," Doran responded, appearing calm in the face of his brother's anger. "I would never just abandon Maliya when she needed us the most, but I needed some time to think about what our safest move will be. You must understand that every decision I make must be made for the good of Dorne. If we give outward support for the Starks, if we go against the crown and the Lannisters, then we are putting every one of our people in danger. We will be labeled an enemy and a traitor and our allies would be too far away to aid us if need be."
"Then what do you suggest?" Oberyn demanded, finally stopping his pacing and turning to face him with his arms crossed.
A knock sounded on the door. "Enter," Doran called, turning his gaze away from his brother.
Areo Hotah partially opened the door and poked his head through. "Apologies for interrupting, my prince. The princess is here as well as a few of her cousins. They wish to speak with you."
Doran sighed. "Please inform them that I am in the middle of a very important meeting and do not wish to be disturbed – "
"Father, you've been locked in that room with Uncle Oberyn for a fortnight now!" Arianne shouted through the door, trying to peer around Areo's large body. "We know that you've received a letter from Maliya despite the fact that you've been trying to keep it a secret. What is going on?"
"They have a right to know," Oberyn murmured to Doran when he stayed silent. "It's better that they hear it from us than from somebody else."
Reluctantly nodding his head in agreement, Doran waved the girls inside. Arianne entered first, her dress swirling about her ankles, with Obara, Nymeria and Tyene right behind her. Even the way the Sand Snakes dressed showed the unique differences between them. Obara with her warrior style outfit, her whip tied to her belt. Nymeria with her simple dress, which probably concealed about half a dozen knives, and Tyene, the picture of sweetness and innocence in a pale blue gown. All three deadly in their own way, and together a force to be reckoned with.
Arianne glided over to her father, examining his expression for a moment before bending down to kiss his cheek. She took the seat next to him while Nymeria perched on the arm of the chair. Tyene settled on a chair across from them but Obara remained standing, her arms crossed and her expression stony. "What is it, father?" Arianne asked, tucking her hair behind her ear. "What did Maliya say?"
"The Lannisters have imprisoned Eddard Stark for being a traitor and are holding his two daughters captive in King's Landing. In response, Maliya's husband has mobilized the northern armies and are marching south," Doran informed them in a heavy voice.
Their reaction was immediate and explosive. "Is Maliya marching with them?" Arianne questioned, leaning forward.
"What reason did they give for calling Lord Stark a traitor?" Asked Nymeria.
Obara shared her father's quick temper and her mouth was set in a snarl. "Who do these fucking Lannisters think they are?"
"When do we march?" Tyene asked expectantly, her wide eyes looking between her father and her uncle.
Oberyn raised a hand to silence them. "There are things that still need to be considered," Oberyn announced, glancing over at Doran who gave him a small, appreciative nod, glad that he saw his point of view for the moment. "While we can't declare our support for the Starks outright, we also won't leave Maliya without help."
"We have to send men to help them," Obara persisted, her hand straying to the whip on her waist. "We forged an alliance with the Starks when Maliya married the heir to Winterfell and that means both men and resources."
"We can't send them right up the middle of Westeros," Arianne added, turning to her cousins as they began to develop a plan, ignoring the two men in the room, one a seasoned warrior and the other a seasoned ruler. Doran watched them with a small smile on his face, enjoying watching the girls defend their cousin. "Our army would have to pass High Garden, King's Landing, and Riverrun in order to reach the north."
"What if they were disguised?" Tyene suggested, her eyes lighting up. "Nondescript clothing, no banners and no sun and spear."
"Those are all exceptional ideas," Doran complimented, tilting his head toward them. "And all of you are right. After many days and nights of deliberation, I have decided that we will send five thousand men to aid the Starks against the Lannisters. They will travel by sea, sailing around the coast out of sight, undisguised until they meet up with the northern army."
"Five thousand?" Nymeria repeated, sounding disappointed with the number. "Will that be enough?"
"It is all I can spare, I'm afraid," Doran sighed. "It is a very fine line that we are going to walk. All of Westeros knows that Maliya married the Young Wolf. We don't want the crown to think that we are traitors so we can't vocally support the Starks just yet, but we will be secretly aiding them. It is only a matter of time before word about it gets out, but I want to forestall it as long as possible. And when they do find out, I'm going to need as many men here as possible in case we are attacked. I cannot leave Dorne undefended."
"Who will command the army?" Arianne asked her father.
"I will," Oberyn announced before Doran could answer, but he had to admit that he wasn't surprised. Oberyn and Maliya shared a special bond while she grew up here in Dorne. While Doran suspected that most of it had to do with the fact that she was Elia's daughter, it was also the girl herself. Oberyn taught her and doted on her more so than any of his own daughters. He adored Maliya and Doran knew there was no was no way that he would let her fight this war on her own. He immediately felt reassured that Oberyn would be there to protect Maliya, and there was a weight lifted off his shoulders.
"I will go with you, father," Tyene declared immediately, rising gracefully from her seat. Gone was the innocent expression on her face, and in it's place was a dangerous one that reminded him so much of her father. "Maliya is like a sister to me, there is no way that I am allowing those fucking Lannisters to hurt her or her new family."
"We have to protect her," Nymeria agreed, flicking her long braid over her shoulder. "But if we're going to go through with this plan, we can't have too many of us going where we can be easily recognized. I will stay here and help protect our home."
They all looked to Obara, who ended up surprising them the most. "I will stay here as well. I will also continue to train Trystane and the younger Sand Snakes. They have to be prepared for whatever is coming."
"I'm glad you will be staying here, cousins," Arianne said, reaching out to take Obara's hand briefly and smiling at Nymeria. "A part of me wishes that I could fight so that I could come with you all if it meant that I could see Maliya. I've missed her something dreadful – make sure you give her my love."
"We will," Tyene promised.
"Gather your best men and assemble your army, Oberyn," Doran commanded in a deep voice. "You sail north the day after tomorrow."
Lord Stark is dead. Her husband's father and the father of six other children was dead. The only other person besides her two uncles that knew her secret….dead. She repeated it over and over in her mind, but that didn't seem to make it sink in any faster. Lord Stark was a good man, an honorable man – what could he possibly have done to be labeled a traitor to the crown?
Now fully dressed, Maliya sat on the edge of the bed, the letter still in her hands. She knew that she should find Robb or Lady Stark, offer them words of consolation that she knew would be meaningless to them. She just couldn't believe that the Lannisters had once again murdered a part of her family. Once again, they had taken away someone that she cared about and hurt the people that she had grown to love. Her hand unconsciously clenched into a fist, crumpling the letter.
She knew that this wasn't the work of Tywin Lannister this time, it was that awful boy-king Joffrey and his mother. The whole family was terrible, and Maliya found herself questioning whether she had misread Lord Tyrion as well. Sighing, with a heavy heart, Maliya stood and put the letter on the table before pulling out the bag she hidden in the tent and taking out the flask with the Moon Tea and taking a long swig from it, grimacing slightly.
"My Lady?" Theon called from outside the tent. She hurriedly put everything away before moving several steps to sit back on the bed.
"It's alright, Theon, you can come in," Maliya called back, lacing her fingers together. "Well? Did you find him?"
Theon nodded, still uncharacteristically silent. Maliya had never seen him without his smirk for so long. "Word has somehow spread throughout the camp already. Robb grabbed his sword and has gone into the forest – people kept going up to him and saying they were sorry for his loss."
Maliya sighed, looking down at her hands. "I suppose I should go find him and tell him…" she trailed off, looking up at Theon with uncertain, lost eyes. "What do I tell him? What could I possibly say to a man who just lost his father, someone he looked up to, loved and admired more than anyone else?"
Theon scoffed, rolling his eyes uncomfortably and laughing off her question. "I don't fucking know, my father is still alive – "
"Come on, Theon, be serious!" Maliya chided, frowning up at him. "I've never lost a parent like Robb has," she partially lied. She had actually lost both her parents, and while it hurt terribly, she hadn't been as close to them as Robb had been to his father. "I don't know what to say either but as his wife I'm supposed to comfort him! I just thought that since you've been his best friend for longer than I've been his wife – " she broke off, shaking her head and sighing. "Nevermind. I don't know what I was thinking." She stood, brushing out the skirts of her dress and moving towards the exit. "I should go find Robb."
"With Robb, actions speak louder than words," Theon blurted as she drew level with him. He rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably when she turned to look at him in surprise. "I don't think there is anything that you can say that will make him feel better. My advice would be to just… be there for him, I guess," he shrugged, lifting a shoulder.
Maliya gave him a small smile, reaching out to put a hand on Theon's arm. "I know we haven't always gotten along, Theon, but… thank you," she murmured gratefully, turning to leave again.
"Maliya?" Theon called before she walked out. She paused, looking over her shoulder quizzically. "Did Robb tell you about the deal he had to make at the Twins?" He asked, shifting on his feet awkwardly.
"Yes," she nodded, looking troubled once more. "He told me what he had to pay– "
"You can't let him go through with it," Theon suddenly exclaimed, cutting her off and making her blink in surprise. "You can't give your son to the Freys."
"Theon – "
"You need to be the one to raise him yourself," Theon insisted and Maliya had never heard him sound more passionate about anything. "He will be the heir to Winterfell one day and the Frey's are a lesser house – it's practically an insult! I know my situation is different, but I haven't seen my family in nine years and your son deserves better than that. I just… if you don't want to send your son to the Twins, I just want you to know that I'm on your side."
Maliya could have fallen over in shock. She had to force her jaw from flopping open, reminding herself of Theon's current situation. He was a ward himself. Not voluntarily, true, but at least he had grown up with a family like the Starks. Her future son would not be so fortunate. "I… wow, Theon," she stammered, completely blown away. "Thank you, I really appreciate that. And so does my unborn, hypothetical son."
"Sure," Theon answered gruffly, looking slightly embarrassed as he waved her gratitude away. "You should go find Robb now. He can be pretty impulsive when he's angry and upset."
She sent him a small smile before pushing aside the tent flap. Greywind was pacing around right outside the tent, looking anxious. He could tell that something was wrong and as soon as she stepped outside, she could as well. The camp, which was normally a bustle of activity, cursing and the sound of swords and shields was abnormally silent. Even the horses were quieter than usual.
He padded over to her, pushing his nose against her hand with a soft whine. Maliya pulled her cloak tighter around her and crouched down next to him, scratching behind his ears. "Hi, Grey," she murmured, no longer unnerved by the fact that he could understand every word that she was saying. "You can sense that something's wrong with Robb, can't you boy?" She pressed a kiss on the top of his head. "C'mon, let's go find him."
Grey Wind bounded off immediately through the camp, turning around every once in a while to make sure she was still following. The men were silent as she passed, bowing their heads and murmuring words of condolences. She accepted the words as graciously as she could, slightly surprised that they were extending their respect to include her.
Maliya paused at one point while walking through the camp, her head turning towards the section where they kept all their prisoners. From here she could see the outline of Jaime Lannister who was cuffed and chained to a pole. Hot, swooping anger flushed through her body at the mere sight of him. When would that family stop terrorizing the rest of the Seven Kingdoms? While she knew that he had nothing to do with Lord Stark's death, he was their prime suspect for Bran's fall, he had murdered her grandfather and he was related to Twyin Lannister.
Her mind drifted to the gift that Tyene had given her before she left Dorne. One drop of The Long Farewell on his skin and he would die a slow, painful death. It would all be worth it. She could imagine the looks on Tywin and Cersei Lannisters face when they learned that he was dead. It would be one last Lannister in Westeros – who knows how many lives she would save with this one, small, untraceable act.
She turned with her eyes narrowed, to go back to her tent and get the poison, but before she could, Grey Wind came up behind her and gave her a small nudge. She blinked and jumped, the murderous rage clearing from her mind as she looked down at the direwolf. "Right," Maliya stammered, shaking her head slightly. "Lead on, Grey Wind."
Grey Wind steered her out of the camp and a short distance into the surrounding forest. She heard Robb first and when she stepped between the trees she saw him hacking at a nearby tree with his sword. He was still wearing the clothes he had slipped on before he had walked out of the tent, his boots unlaced and his shirt hanging open. The trees had deep cuts in it, his muscles straining as he used his full strength with each swing.
Tears were streaming down his face, his chest heaving and for a moment Maliya felt like crying herself. Grey Wind whined again. "Robb?" Maliya called hesitantly, walking a few steps closer. He didn't seem to hear her, he was so wrapped up in his attack on the tree. "Robb!" She shouted a bit louder to break through to him.
He abruptly stopped swinging, his eyes finding hers. An expression of utter devastation and loss covered his face, the look in his normally bright blue eyes was dead and empty. In that moment the fight seemed to leave him – his shoulders slumped and the ruined sword slipping from his fingers. He swayed dangerously and Maliya rushed forward, falling on her knees to catch him as he fell to his.
He buried his head in her neck, a shuddering sob echoing in her ear. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, one hand at the back of his neck and the other rubbing soothing circles on his back. She held him as tight as she could, trying to pour all of her love and comfort into her embrace. Grey Wind circled them a couple times, nudging his nose against Robb's tear streaked face. Robb made a noise that sounded like a combination of a gasp and a chuckle and pulled back slightly, petting Grey Wind on the head.
Maliya wiped Robb's tears with her thumbs when he turned back to her, her hands then sliding to either side of his neck. Robb closed his eyes, his own hands coming up to grasp her wrists, looking like he was trying to take comfort from her touch. When he opened his eyes again, the hopelessness in them scared her. "I failed," he whispered, dazed. "I called all of my banners, created an army of twenty thousand men to march to King's Landing and save my father… and I failed." His eyes slowly drifted to hers. "I promised Bran and Rickon that I would bring father home. How can I possibly go back to face them now?" He asked in despair, shaking his head as his eyes filled with tears. His voice dropped to a whisper. "I don't know if I'm strong enough for this."
"Yes you are," Maliya countered fiercely, making sure she had his complete and undivided attention. "You are strong enough for this Robb," she repeated. "And when you're not, you have me."
Robb swallowed loudly, nodding hesitantly. His gaze drifted to something over her shoulder and suddenly that look of despair was back on his face. "Mother," he murmured, brokenly.
Maliya glanced behind her and saw Lady Stark standing there, a similar look on her face even though her eyes were devoid of tears. She didn't know how long Lady Stark was standing there watching them, but Maliya could have sworn she caught an odd expression on her face. Was that jealousy she saw? But as quick as it came it was gone and Maliya was left wondering if she imagined it.
The moment passed and then Maliya was helping Robb back to his feet as his mother rushed forward to embrace him. Maliya made to step back, not wanting to intrude on this delicate, intimate family moment but Robb suddenly held her hand, stopping her from moving any further away from him. He hugged his mother with one arm and clutched at her with the other, holding so tightly that it hurt. "I'll kill them all," Robb vowed in a choked voice, his voice slightly muffled by his mother's cloak. "Every one of them… I'll kill them all!"
"They have your sisters," Lady Stark reminded him gently, brushing down his curls. "First we have to get the girls back. And then… then we will kill them all," she finished furiously, her eyes opening and landing on Maliya.
"They won't get away with this," Maliya chimed in, her voice dark. "The Lannisters will pay for everything that they've done."
Cersei stared out of her bedchamber window into dark, night sky, leaning against the wall with her robe loosely tied around her body. She took another sip of wine from the cup she was holding, her mind drifting as it always seemed to do lately, to Maliya Martell. The girl was a thorn in her side. Every small council meeting, Cersei was just waiting to hear the news that Rhaenys Targaryen was back from the dead and was claiming the Iron Throne. News of Eddard Stark's death must have reached them by now… what better way to respond than by revealing her true identity?
Cersei didn't understand why the foolish girl was continuing to keep her identity a secret, but frankly she could care less. The less people who knew about the girl's identity, the better for Cersei and her family. Ever since her 'by chance' realization that Maliya Martell might not be who she said she was, Cersei had been doing some subtle inquiring about her and what she found out what troubling.
The girl had been sick for the first two years of her life and hadn't been seen in public, which she thought was oddly convenient. She was the twin of Doran's middle child who was being fostered at the Yronwoods, she was beautiful and loved by her people… Cersei fought the urge to roll her eyes. There was no definitive evidence that the girl was who she said she was, and no evidence that she wasn't. It mattered not. All that mattered was the saftety of her family, and this Maliya girl threatened Joffrey himself. She had to die, there was no other option.
A small, hidden smile crossed her lips. The best part about all of this was that Cersei was going to take care of this little problem on her own. Jaime and their father were off fighting their battles and Cersei neither knew nor cared where the treacherous little Imp was. She would prove to all of them that she was capable of doing more than just giving birth to children.
She had given a lot of thought as to who should help solve her little Targaryen problem. The Faceless Men were the first to pop into her mind – they were professional and they were discreet, but ultimately the price for the job would most likely be exhorbitant. Not only was the girl a princess, but she was holed up in a castle all the way north, surrounded by the remaining Stark army. She didn't need Littlefinger or Varys prying into where all the money was going so she dismissed that idea.
She chose to go with her second plan, which was to pick someone close to the girl, someone who can access her relatively easily. She ran through the Stark bannermen whose castle's were near Winterfell, dismissing the unfailingly loyal ones such as the Karstarks, the Umbers, the Mormonts, the Reeds and the Glovers. Then one name jumped out at her, one that had a long, bitter history with the Starks.
With the right words and the right incentive, Cersei knew that she could sway the man to her side. She had seen first hand how the offer of a woman, of money or of land could make a man do something he never thought he would do. Her smile grew.
Cersei was going to give the man an offer he couldn't refuse. If he helped take care of her Targaryen problem and aided in the downfall of the Starks, she would anoint him as Lord Paramount of the North, something that his family had wanted for a long, long time.
"Come back to bed, love," a voice called from behind her. Irritation crossed Cersei's face as he interrupted her musings. It was the wrong voice, the wrong face, the wrong body. A wave of longing swept through her and she found herself missing Jaime all over again. Sex with Lancel was nowhere near as satisfying as sex with Jaime – he just didn't feel the same inside her. He curbed the urges for now, but Cersei could already feel herself growing annoyed and bored with how infatuated and arrogant Lancel was becoming.
"Leave me," Cersei commanded, turning from the window and gliding over to her table to sit on the chair, taking another sip of wine before taking out a quill and a piece of parchment. "I have work to do."
Lancel looked disappointed and surprised, but slowly put his clothes back on, hesitating in front of the table before he left. "Will I see you later?" He asked, voice rising hopefully.
"Perhaps," Cersei drawled, unconcerned without even looking up at him. She took another sip of wine when she finally heard the door open and close and began to focus on crafting her letter.
Maliya sat next to her husband, surveying the arguing men around her. Robb had come to find her that night, hours after the sun had set. The expression on his face was grave as he told her that Renly Baratheon was claiming his brother's crown and he was going to call an emergency council to figure out their next move. Benches were set up outside, a fair distance from the camp so that they wouldn't be overhead.
She sat silently, listening intently as the lords argued back and forth. Maliya sat with Robb, Lady Stark and Theon on the northern side with the Greatjon, Galbart Glover, Lady Mormont and Lord Karstark. Her eyes lingering on him for a moment, taking in his hollow eyes and tangled beard, a pang of pity running through her. He had lost two of his sons in their last battle and he wasn't taking the loss well. On the other side of their group were the southern lords, most of whom she didn't recognize.
They had already been at this for well over an hour now, and they didn't seem to be any closer to making a final decision. There was arguing, there was yelling and cursing and there was frustration. The same points were mentioned again and again. Lord Tywin had crossed the Trident and were heading for Harrenhal. And now there were two kings in the realm, Joffrey Baratheon and his uncle Renly.
Some lords wanted to march towards Harrenhal and end Lord Tywin's power once and for all. Others suggested hitting his home of Casterly Rock. Still others suggested pledging their fealty to King Renly, adding their forces to his and then marching on King's Landing.
Maliya glanced at Robb occasionally throughout the proceedings. He hadn't spoken a word since the council started, yet there was a thoughtful look on his face as he respectfully listened to each and every one of his lords. He was holding up as well as could be expected since the news of his father's death. He was slightly more distant than Maliya had ever seen him, but she did not blame him for attempting to keep busy. He was stronger than she was and was handling this better than she ever would have. Her respect for him had grown exponentially over the past few days.
"Renly is not the king," she heard Robb say loudly, speaking up for the first time and jerking her back to the present.
"You cannot mean to hold to Joffrey, my lord," Galbart Glover protested, looking outraged. "He put your father to the death!"
"That makes him evil," Robb pointed out. "Not a king. Bran cannot be Lord of Winterfell before me, Renly cannot be king before Stannis. He was Robert's younger brother."
The council erupted once more. Lady Mormont agreed that Stannis had the better claim, but Ser Marq Piper argued that Renly was crowned and that if they added their strength to his, they could potentially have six of the seven kingdoms. One of the Freys, of course, suggested they wait and see who comes out on the winning side and everybody positively went mad with disgust and anger.
Lady Stark stood up at one point on the other side of Robb and every person in the council respectfully fell silent. "Why not a peace?" She asked in a calm voice.
There was a long, heavy silence following her words as everyone moved their gaze to Robb to see his reaction. Maliya could tell right away that he did not agree with her decision and he let it be known. "They murdered my lord father, your husband," Robb reminded her, his face grim. He reached for his sword and unsheathed it, holding it in front of him. "This is the only peace I mean to give the Lannisters."
The Greatjon led the cheering, pounding the benches and stamping their feet in approval. Lady Stark waited, her face impassive until the clearing was silent once more. Her voice filled with grief, she went on to say that everyone that they had lost was gone, and no amount of fighting was going to bring them back. "I will mourn for Ned until the end of my days, but I must think of the living. I want my daughters back, and the queen holds them still. If I must trade our four Lannisters for their two Starks, I will call that a bargain and thank the golds. I want you safe, Robb, ruling at Winterfell from your father's seat with your wife by your side. I want you to live your life, to father sons and daughters and I want to write an end to this. I want to go home, my lords, and weep for my husband."
Maliya's first reaction to Lady Stark's passionate speech was disgust and a little bit of panic. This can't be the end, she thought frantically, her eyes flickering around the clearing to gauge everybody's reaction to what Lady Stark was saying. I am so close to finally moving against the Lannisters, this can't end now. Not when I'm closer than I've ever been before.
Thankfully, it seemed as if all the other lords wanted vengeance as well. Lord Karstark wanted his sons death to mean something, another lord questioned how long the peace would last and the southern lords pointed out that the Mountain had ravaged their homes and slaughtered their people – what would be the point of pulling back now?
There was one thing that most of the lords seemed to agree with. Nobody would ever call a Lannister their king. Maliya had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop the wide smile that threatened to spill across her face.
Lady Stark, defeated, sat back down on the bench looking disappointed and the Greatjon then lurched to his feet. His eyes were alight and a strange sort of electricity was suddenly running through the air, making Maliya's heart pump as the adrenaline spread through her body. "My lords!" He roared, spreading his arms wide and spinning in a slow circle to look at them all. "Here is what I say to these two kings." He spat and a few of them cheered. "Renly Baratheon is nothing to me, nor Stannis neither. Why should they rule over me and mine from some flowery seat in the South? What do they know of the Wall or the Wolfswood? Even their gods are wrong!" He reached over his shoulder and pulled his giant two handed greatsword free. "Why shouldn't we rule ourselves again? It was the dragons we married, and all the dragons are dead!"
There was more cheering at this point and Maliya was immensely grateful for the distraction. A strange, sudden impulse to leap to her feet at his words ran through her body. To cry that all of the dragons weren't dead, to reveal her true identity to the people surrounding her. She squashed the impulse almost immediately, but her body gave an almost violent twitch, one that both Robb and Lady Stark must have noticed.
"There sits the only king I mean to bend my knee to," the Greatjon boomed, pointing his sword at Robb, who tensed beside her. "The King in the North!"
Maliya watched with wide eyes as he knelt in front of them, placing his sword at Robb's feet. Robb slowly stood at this point, his shoulder straightening at the weight behind this moment. Maliya was momentarily struck by how much he had changed since the boy that she had married almost a year ago. Lord Karstark jumped to his feet as well. "I'll have peace on those terms," he declared, drawing his own sword and kneeling. "They can keep their red castle and their iron chair. The King in the North!"
"The King of Winter!" Lady Mormont cried, adding her mace to the others.
Theon Greyjoy enthusiastically leapt to his feet. "Am I your brother, now and always?" He asked Robb.
"Now and always," Robb agreed.
Theon knelt beside the Greatjon, his sworpoint in the ground and his head bowed. "My sword is yours in victory and defeat, from this day until my last day."
Feeling as if she should say something, Maliya rose to her feet as well and the crowd quieted. The momentous moment was not lost on her. Three centuries ago, Torrhen Stark knelt to her ancestors instead of fighting a war they would not win. It had been three hundred years since the title of the King of the North had been used, and now, for the first time since, they were declaring their independence once more. "You are my husband and now you are my king," she declared, her voice carrying so everyone could hear. "You have the support of Dorne behind you. Together we will make sure the Lannisters get everything that they deserve." Robb's eyes softened as they met hers and he knew he appreciated her words.
More cheers followed her declaration and the Greatjon called once more, "The King in the North!" The other lords joined in, chanting over and over until her head rang with the words. Maliya, unable to hold back a victorious, gleeful smile, looked around them and noticed there was only one person who wasn't on their feet, cheering with the rest. Lady Stark still sat on the bench, a defeated, sad look on her face as she stared at her first born son.
Robb's fingers brushed against her own, drawing her gaze, even if he wasn't looking at her. Pride ran through her as Robb graciously accepted the massive responsibility that had just been thrust upon him, and it wasn't until two seconds later that she was struck with a sudden realization.
Rhaenys Targaryen was never meant to be a queen, that right to rule would have fallen to her brother Aegon after her father. But somehow, against all odds, Maliya Stark had just become Queen in the North and she didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
Author's Note: And so season 1 is finished and the plot moves forward! Ned Stark is officially dead and Robb and Maliya have just become King and Queen in the North! Cersei is putting her own plan into action and Dorne is officially sending their support. Oberyn, Tyene and Maliya will be together once more! What did you guys think?
Next chapter starts the beginning of season 2! Don't forget to leave a review before you leave! :)
Guest 1 – Thanks so much for reviewing, I'm glad you liked the chapter!
Guest 2 – Thanks for your review! Since Robb was already married in my story I knew that Frey had to request something big, something that Robb and Maliya would hate and this is what came to mind! I hope you agreed with Maliya's response – I wanted it to come across as both angry and very confused. That scene with Robb and Maliya's reunion was so easy for me to write – I wish it was always like that! I'm glad you think Maliya being a warrior is legit. I knew that I wanted her to be able to fight from the very beginning and what better way than by being the Red Viper's niece! As for Robb's reaction to her fighting… it's going to be a long battle between. They're both very stubborn and won't be backing down soon. I'm not offended by what you said and I want to thank you for being respectful about it! I have taken it into consideration and hope that shows in this chapter.
