Author's Note: You guys, I think this is some sort of updating record for me and I can't help but feel very proud of myself. Don't get used to it though! I had a few days off over the holidays and spent many, many hours churning this out for you guys. Thank you to everyone who reviewed, favorited and followed my story! I was really blown away by all the thoughtful responses, thank you for all your support. And welcome to all my new readers and reviewers!
So, this chapter got away from me a bit. I pushed off half a dozen scenes until the next chapter and it still turned out really long. Hope you guys enjoy it! Don't forget to review :)
Oh and Happy New Year!
Chapter 21: Reunions
Maliya woke the next morning feeling more emotionally stable than yesterday, though she still felt a bone deep exhaustion in her body. She and Lady Stark hadn't talked much last night after Maliya had explained what had happened, but her presence and her comforting silence had seemed to soothe her a bit. She pushed the bed sheets off her and swung her legs over the side. Her head swam and pounded as she sat up and she winced, bringing a hand to her temple.
Cursing the bastard that had managed to hit her, Maliya dressed for the day, choosing a simple riding dress and braiding her hair in a straight plait down her back. The mood in the camp was somber as Maliya exited her tent and broke her fast with Lady Stark and Brienne.
She overheard some of the guards as she ate. Rumors were already reaching them from the Baratheon camp. They were blaming Brienne for King Renly's death, though both Maliya and Lady Stark had been present at the time as well. Unfortunately, the rumors also said that most of Renly's army went over to join Stannis, all except the Tyrell's who retreated farther south instead. All in all, it wasn't good news for Robb's army or his cause. Not only did they fail to make an alliance, but now one of their enemies has grown larger.
She couldn't help worrying over Stannis's harsh words against Robb. It was a worry that seemed to settle permanently in her stomach, eating away at her insides and stealing her appetite. A wave of longing swept over her and Maliya found that she wanted nothing more than to be in her husband's arms once more.
"Are you alright, my dear?" Lady Stark asked, her concerned blue eyes searching her face when Maliya turned towards her. Brienne had just volunteered to get the horses ready for their departure. She pressed a hand to Maliya's forehead and cupped her cheek. "Were you able to get any sleep?"
"I managed to get a few hours sleep," Maliya assured her as she withdrew her hand. "Though I tossed and turned most of the night."
Lady Stark nodded as if this was what she expected to hear. "You've just been through a traumatic experience, even though it was your decision to get involved in the first place." Maliya frowned. Had she been through a traumatic experience? Killing Lorch had been something that she had been wanting ever since she was old enough to understand what happened to her and her family. She supposed killing him hadn't been the traumatic part. What was traumatizing was the darkness that had taken over her while she was committing the act. It appeared to have affected her more than even she had realized. "Robb will not be pleased when he hears about this, you know."
"Oh, I know," Maliya answered, inwardly wincing as she just imagined his reaction.
"It's best to just tell him," Lady Stark said, patting her hand reassuringly. "Ned and I were always of the belief that honesty is the best policy in a marriage." Maliya's entire body tensed at her good mother's words. All of the lies and secrets that she was currently keeping from her husband swirled in the forefront of her mind, bring with it the sharp, bitter taste of guilt. She swallowed harshly and could almost feel the guilt settling deep in her stomach, adding to the fist sized pit. "Every healthy relationship is built on a foundation of honesty and trust."
"So you or Lord Stark have never kept a secret from each other your whole marrirage?" Maliya asked her, turning to face her completely and hoping that she didn't hear her voice waver. Half a second too late she realized that her question was entirely inappropriate and intrusive.
Lady Stark shook her head and opened her mouth to answer but paused, a forgotten pain coming to light in her blue eyes as a conflicted expression crossed her face. "Well…. Not every marriage is perfect, unfortunately." A moment later her expression cleared and her pain disappeared. "It's time to go," Lady Stark murmured, the relief evident in her voice. "Are you ready?"
Maliya nodded and set aside her still full plate, before standing to retrieve her bag from her tent so the guards could take it down. She wondered at what Lady Stark was thinking. Lord and Lady Stark seemed to have a strong, healthy marriage – what secrets could there possible have been – She falterered midstep, her eyes widening. Of course! She didn't know how she didn't see it before. Lord Stark had never told anybody the name of the woman he had laid with while he was at war. The identity of Jon Snow's mother was one of the best kept secrets in all of Westeros.
A horrible thought struck her. What Maliya was doing to Robb was several times worse than what Lord Stark did to Jon Snow and Lady Stark. What originally started out as a secret about her real identity snowballed into her secret about the Moon Tea, the dragon egg, and now the letter from Lord Stark. Her fear and her guilt were growing until she felt as if it would consume her alive.
She jumped as Lady Stark joined her once more while she was tying her bag on Shadow's saddle. "Thank you for taking Shadow with you when you left the Baratheon's camp," she said gratefully, patting Shadow's neck as she tried to calm her racing heart. "My cousin gifted him to me before I left Dorne and I'm very fond of him."
"Of course," Lady Stark smiled, before swinging herself up into the saddle of her own horse, Brienne and the other guards doing the same. "Now, come. Let's go back to Robb."
Their small, somber group rode straight for Oxcross, choosing to have a small lunch in the saddles rather than stopping and wasting another hour or two of daylight. Luckily they didn't run into any other obstacles during their journey. When the sentries to Robb's camp finally rode out to meet them, the sun had already set and it was well after supper time.
"Your Grace, my lady," one of the guards greeted, bowing his head. "It is good to see you. The King will be relieved to see that you both are safe and well."
"Thank you," Lady Stark responded graciously. "Where is my son?"
"At the command tent, my lady."
Lady Stark turned to face the guards that had journeyed with them. "Thank you for everything that you all have done for us in keeping us safe. Now, go enjoy a hot meal and a good night sleep."
"Hear, hear!" Ser Wendel Manderly and the other guards cheered before riding off with tired smiles.
Maliya perked up as she and Brienne followed Lady Stark through the camp, excitement beginning to trickle through her at the thought of finally seeing Robb again. She had left feeling bitter and disappointed, but at the moment none of it seemed to matter. The soldiers grinned and greeted them as they rode past, bowing their heads in respect and she was amazed at how different this camp felt than Renly's.
Her eyes were scanning faces as they neared the command tent, looking for Robb as her heart began to beat faster in anticipation. She was looking for him so intently that when she saw an out of place familiar face, she did a double take, her mouth flopping open. "Uncle Oberyn?" Her eyes widened at the blonde woman standing next to him. "Tyene?"
She jumped down from Shadow's back, a wide, disbelieving grin spreading across her face. She hurried over to them as fast as her years of princess training would allow before ditching etiquette altogether and throwing her arms around her uncle's neck. Her uncle laughed at her eagerness and Maliya screwed her eyes shut as he wrapped his arms tightly around her, lifting her several inches off the ground. She breathed in the scent of him and happy tears pricked the corners of her eyes. He smelled of her childhood and of Dorne.
"Ah, my sweet niece, I cannot tell you how good it is to see you," he told her as she pulled away.
"I cannot believe that you both are here!" She laughed, feeling happier and lighter than she had in ages. She turned to Tyene, pulling her in for a tight hug and holding on for a moment longer than usual. "I have missed you both so much, more than you could ever imagine."
Tyene's blue eyes took in the tears swimming in Maliya's gaze and she grinned, one of her eyebrows rising. "Why, uncle, I do believe that marriage and a crown has made our Maliya soft."
Maliya laughed again, blinking away the tears and pulling them both in for yet another hug. "Oh, stop it. What are you two doing here?" She asked, one hand on her uncle's arm and the other encased tightly in Tyene's hand. "Did father send you?"
"He did," her uncle confirmed, his smile fading slightly. "We should discuss all that somewhere more private, but just know that he sends his love and hopes that you are well."
"Everyone's written you letters," Tyene added, and Maliya was smiling so wide that her cheeks were
beginning to hurt. "Arianne's letter is more of a novel really, Trystane spent days cooped up in his bedchambers as he wrote his and even Obara wrote you a little something. I have them all in my tent when you have a spare moment or two to read them."
"I would absolutely love to," Maliya responded, that lump returning to her throat. A noise from behind her captured her attention and she glanced over her shoulder to see Lady Stark and Brienne dismounting from their horses. She waved them over to introduce them. "My lady, you remember my Uncle Oberyn. This is my cousin, Tyene. Tyene, this is my good-mother Lady Catelyn Stark." Uncle Oberyn kissed the back of Lady Stark's hand and Tyene smiled, giving her a small curtsy. "Uncle Oberyn, Tyene, I would also like you to meet Brienne of Tarth." Tyene's eyes widened as her gaze trailed up Brienne's tall body and when she opened her mouth to make some sarcastic comment, Maliya interjected quickly, giving Tyene a pointed look. "She saved my life the other day."
Uncle Oberyn shook Brienne's hand. "Well then, Lady Brienne, it seems that we owe you a great debt for saving our Maliya." Maliya wanted to roll her eyes at his comment, but couldn't stop the corners of her mouth from lifting. She was nine and ten years old, a wife and a Queen and yet her uncle still looked out for her as if she were no taller than his knee. It made caused a warmth to spread through her, starting in her chest and moving throughout her body.
"I gave my word to Lady Catelyn that I would bring Her Grace back to the Stark's camp safely," Brienne responded seriously, looking slightly uncomfortable with Uncle Oberyn's words. "And besides…" she said, glancing over at Maliya and nodding at her. "She saved my life first."
"It sounds like an interesting tale," her uncle commented with raised eyebrows, looking between the two of them.
He added something else, but Maliya was distracted by a deep voice saying her name from behind her. "Maliya?" It was a voice that she would recognize anywhere, one that made her heart leap in her chest and an automatic smile appear on her face.
She turned, her skirts swirling around her ankles and there he was. Auburn curls, icy blue eyes, broad shoulders and warm smile – her eyes eagerly drank him in, feeling like it had been ages since she'd last seen him. "Robb," she murmured softly. Everything and everyone faded into the background as Robb strode toward her purposefully. She met him halfway, his arms snaking around her waist as she launched herself at him, her own arms wrapping around his neck.
"Gods, I've missed you," he whispered shakily, burying his face in the crook of her neck.
Standing there, encased in his arms with his body pressed against hers… she felt whole again, as if she had left a piece of her behind with him when she had left. She felt safe, as if nothing could hurt her while she was here with him and it was then that she realized… home wasn't a place. It was the feeling inside of you when you're surrounded by the people that you love and that matter most to you. For Maliya, wherever Robb was, that was her home.
Maliya pulled back slightly so she could look up into his face, her brown eyes light and teasing. "Well if you stop sending me away, then maybe you wouldn't have to miss me."
"You might have a point there," he agreed, surprising her completely. "Now stop talking and kiss me, wife."
"If you insist," she sighed happily, standing on her tiptoes and capturing his lips with her own. Almost immediately, one of Robb's hands pressed against the small of her back, eliminating even the smallest of spaces. The other hand rose up to fist around her braid, holding her in place as he angled his head and deepened the kiss. She relished the feel of his warm lips against hers, the hunger and impatience she could feel in his kiss and the tension in his body. She wanted nothing more than to pull him into their tent and rip all his clothes off, but she belatedly remembered that they had an audience. She couldn't help but chuckle at his soft noise of disappointment when she pulled away.
"Soon," she whispered in his ear, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "I promise."
Robb sighed as his eyes fluttered open and looked at her. Heat swooped through her lower belly at the desire shining from his eyes, which were a deeper blue than usual. "Not soon enough," he murmured in a husky voice, unable to resist kissing her one last time before looking up.
"Well," Tyene grinned widely, as Robb and Maliya approached, one of his arms firmly wrapped around her waist. "That was quite a performance. I have to say, I've never been more proud of you, 'Liya."
"Ty," Maliya scolded half-heartedly, though she couldn't help laughing lightly. She had missed Tyene's crass way of speaking too much to really be mad at her on behalf of her new family who was unused to such behavior. "You'll have to excuse my cousin, it seems this Northern air is affecting her head."
"It's quite alright," Lady Stark answered with a polite smile. "Now, it is getting late. I don't know about anyone else, but my very bones ache from riding so hard for so long. Robb, we should debrief you on everything that's happened."
"Of course," Robb said. "Mother, I've had a tent set up for you already for when you returned, but Lady…." He trailed off, looking at Brienne.
"Brienne, Your Grace," she answered, bowing slightly in a sign of respect. "Just Brienne."
"Brienne," he smiled. "You are very welcome here. I'll have some of my men set up a tent for you as well."
"I'll accompany her and show her around a bit," Tyene volunteered, already knowing that she wouldn't be invited to the debrief meeting. She turned to face Maliya. "We'll have a chance to talk on the morrow, right?"
"Of course," Maliya promised, pulling her in for another quick hug. "I'm so glad that you are here."
Tyene smiled at her before joining Brienne. "So, how tall are you exactly?" She heard Tyene ask Brienne just before they walked out of earshot. Maliya and her uncle shared an amused look, shaking their heads in exasperation.
"Shall we?" Robb asked, gesturing to the command tent. "Prince Oberyn, you are more than welcome join us, of course."
"Thank you," her uncle said. "I am most interested in hearing this tale."
They all filed into the command tent. Maliya and Lady Stark sat at the table opposite each other, while Robb stood at the head of the table and Uncle Oberyn lounged on the bench on the other side. "We've heard several rumors about what happened, but I'd like to hear a firsthand account from you both."
"Renly Baratheon was murdered," Lady Stark told them in a grave voice, cutting right to the chase. "But the manner in which it happened…." She trailed off, shaking her head. "Nobody would have believed the truth, so we had to get out of there real fast."
"It was dark magic," Maliya added, looking from Robb to her uncle. "There was this… this shadow that rose up from the ground and stabbed Renly in the back. It appeared out of nowhere and then just vanished into thin air."
"A shadow?" Robb repeated, a doubtful frown on his face.
"A shadow with Stannis Baratheon's face," Lady Stark told them.
"Of course!" Maliya gasped, snapping her fingers. "That's why it looked so familiar, I don't know why I didn't put it together before."
"So you think that Stannis killed his own brother?" Robb questioned incredulously, looking as if he couldn't wrap his head around the fact that two brothers would want to harm each other. "With dark magic?"
Uncle Oberyn had a slightly intrigued look on his face as he drummed his fingers against the table. "Magic may be extremely rare in these parts, but it's not unheard of across the Narrow Sea. There are warlocks in Qarth that possess great powers, and there are rumors of sorcerers, necromancers and the like in the lands by the Jade Sea and Asshai by the Shadow."
Maliya and Lady Stark shared a look of dawning realization. "The Red Priestess," they both exclaimed at the same time.
"There was this woman with Stannis when he and Renly met to discuss terms," Maliya elaborated at their look of confusion. "She said that she serves the Lord of Light and that 'the night was dark and full of terrors.' She must have somehow created that shadow to kill Renly!"
Lady Stark leaned forward. "Renly had finally agreed to form an alliance with us and we were in the middle of negotiations when the shadow appeared. Needless to say, the alliance fell through. We had to ride out of there like the Stranger himself was chasing us and now we're hearing that most of Renly's force has joined Stannis' cause."
Robb sighed, wiping a weary hand across his face. "Well, this isn't ideal, but it sounds like there were unexpected and unforeseen circumstances. There's nothing to be done about it now."
"There's more," Lady Stark spoke up again, giving Maliya a pointed look and a raised eyebrow.
Maliya put her hands in her lap, playing nervously with her fingers. "Brienne and I got separated from the others as we left the camp and we headed back here on our own. We… met a little trouble on the way."
Robb frowned at her and she could feel Uncle Oberyn's piercing gaze on the side of her face. "What sort of trouble?"
Maliya took a steadying breath. "We came across a small village that was being attacked by a group of men. When we got there, one of the houses were on fire and all of the village men had already been killed. The men who attacked them had rounded up the women and were going to rape and kill them. Brienne and I saved them and set them free." She turned to look at her uncle, a strange tone in her voice. "It turns out that one of those men was Amory Lorch. He's dead, Uncle Oberyn. I killed the man who murdered my cousin Rhaenys."
Burning triumph flared in her uncle's eyes and there was a moment of silence as they took the opportunity to savor the sweet taste of revenge. The look on his face showed that there was more that he wanted to say but couldn't in present company.
The moment was broken by Robb, who couldn't stay silent any longer. "How many men were there?" He asked heatedly, bracing his hands against the table as he leaned forward. "There were only two of you against dangerous men who already showed that they have no problem killing. How could you be so reckless?"
"I think I shall retire for the night," Lady Stark broke in quickly, obviously wanting to leave before it turned into an argument. She murmured a good night to Maliya and her uncle, and patted Robb on the shoulder before leaving the tent.
"I should probably go too," her uncle said, rising from his seat and coming to stand behind Maliya. "But there is something I must say before I leave, Young Wolf. Tywin Lannister and those dogs of his murdered my sister and her children and caused my family irreparable pain. There has never been any justice for their actions because there has never been any evidence. While I know it was a risk for Maliya, I can't be sorry that she did it. We are that much closer to the justice that we are deserved for the past six and ten years and I have to say that I would have done the same thing."
"And now there is something that I must say," Robb said, drawing himself up to his full height and looking every inch of the King in the North. Her eyes flickered apprehensively between her husband and her uncle. "I appreciate the fact that you are Maliya's uncle and that you love her. Believe me when I say that I can understand first hand your need for revenge against the Lannisters. I value your advice and experience as a fighter and a battle commander, but I want to make one thing very clear from the start. I am in charge here. Maliya is my wife, now, and a Stark. There are certain conversations and decisions that shall remain between the two of us."
Maliya waited with baited breath, her body tensed as if ready to spring up in front of her husband in case her uncle lost his temper. She was sure that he could count on one hand the number of times that a man stood up to him, unwithering under the strength of the Red Viper's intimidating gaze. She jumped when her uncle moved, but it was only to clap Robb on the shoulder with a chuckle. "Spoken like a true king. I appreciate a strong backbone in the family. Good night, Robb, good night my beautiful niece." He pressed a kiss to Maliya's temple. "I'll see you on the morrow."
"Good night, uncle," Maliya murmured as he left, and she heard Robb let out a breath that he had apparently been holding. Her eyes reluctantly met his impassive gaze once more and felt a wave of weariness wash over her. "Robb, your lady mother has more than likely given me the same lecture you are about to give me right now. While I'm glad that Lorch is dead and those women were saved, I acted impulsively and I realize now that our plan could have gone horrible wrong. I'm sorry that I put myself in danger, I wasn't thinking properly."
Robb's face looked surprised as she acknowledged her mistake, before softening and coming around the table, crouching in front of her and reaching for her hands. His blue eyes searched her face for a moment before he spoke. "I know that you are a skilled fighter, Maliya, but I want you to promise me that you won't be so reckless in the future. I can't lose you, Princess," he murmured, using his old nickname for her and making her melt into a puddle on the bench seat. "I'm not sure I would survive it."
Maliya swallowed at his words, a stab of guilt shooting through her that she struggled to push away. It was on the tip of her tongue to promise him anything he wanted at that moment, but she hesitated, her mind racing. If she hadn't been reckless a few days ago, not only would all those women would have died, which would be morally wrong, but Lorch would have walked away free once more. What was more important to her? Her safety or revenge for her family?
She scooted closer to Robb, reaching out with one hand to brush an auburn curl away from his forehead. "I promise that I will be more careful in the future," she told him softly, changing the wording of her promise slightly. "You won't lose me Robb. I don't plan on going anywhere." She placed her hands on either side of his face and bent over and kissed him lightly. "Now take me to bed, husband. That is an order from your Queen."
"It would be my pleasure, Your Grace," Robb grinned wolfishly, pressing his lips to hers once more before standing swiftly, lacing his fingers with hers. Maliya giggled as she had to practically run to keep up with Robb's long, impatient strides as he dragged her through the camp to their tent.
They had barely made it inside before Robb attacked her, his hands moving to pull up her skirts and his lips hungrily devouring hers. Her hands shot out to grip his biceps as she staggered back at his eagerness. "Robb," she muttered, pulling away, gasping as he just moved his lips to kiss and nip at her neck. "Robb, slow down." She placed her hands on either side of his face again and made him look up at her. "Slow down, love," she whispered breathlessly, feeling slightly shaky. "We have all night long, I want to savor this for as long as possible."
"You're right," Robb panted, closing his eyes briefly as he tried to gain control of himself. "I'm sorry. I've just missed you so much."
Robb bent his head towards her again and this time when their lips met, it was a slow, sensual kiss. A kiss that made her toes curl and caused a steady build-up of desire to flood through her body before pooling in her lower belly. His fingers pulled the ribbon free from her hair before running through it, undoing the braid so his hand could fist in it and take control of the kiss. Their tongues met in an intoxicating dance and Maliya completely lost herself in his kiss. Their passion began to build and their breathing began to grow shallow.
Their movements were slow and unhurried as Maliya unhooked Robb's cloak and the belt holding his sword, allowing it to drop to the floor in a heap. Her fingers unlaced the leather jerkin he wore, helping him remove each layer of clothing until he was standing in just his trousers and boots, his chest bare to her. Her hands moved down his neck, her fingers tracing patterns in his soft chest hair before moving down lower, dancing over the muscles in his abs before slipping around his back.
A shiver ran down his spine at the feel of her fingers and he let out a shaky breath, before his hands moved to the laces of her own dress. She slipped her arms out of the sleeves and stepped out of the dress, never breaking the kiss. Robb's hands roamed over her now bare arms and shoulders, pulling her flush against him once more. Even though they were lined up chest to chest and hips to hips, somehow it still wasn't close enough.
A strange feeling came over her as she felt his heart beating a frantic rhythm against his chest. She kissed him harder, her nails digging into skin as she tried to convey her love for him through her movements. A bead of sweat trickled down the side of her neck and Maliya whimpered as Robb's hot tongue followed it's path back up, nipping gently at her earlobe.
She was overwhelmed with a fiery heat, the warmth of his body against hers, the scent and taste of him only making her want more. Her hand slipped down his chest, almost of its own accord, dipping into his trousers to find him already hard and ready for her. Robb's lips faltered over her own, a low groan slipping into her mouth as her fingers danced over him. His hand shot out to grip her wrist, stilling her movements. "I'm not sure I can handle any teasing tonight," he panted as she removed her hand. His eyes were wild, deep pools of blue and the sight of his mussed hair and flushed cheeks made her breath catch in her throat. "I want you, Maliya. I want you, I need you, and Gods, I love you."
"Ao emō ñuha, Robb, you have me," she murmured, hearing his breath hitch when she spoke Valyrian. That always served to drive his arousal even higher, driving him insane. She couldn't help her small smile, feeling so incredibly happy at this moment. Making sure their gazes were locked, she stepped out from his embrace, toeing her boots off and moving backwards towards the bed. Slowly, torturously, she inched the hem of her slip higher up her thighs, his eyes hungrily watching her every move. The dagger strapped to her thigh came into view and she grinned at the sound that came from his throat at the sight of it.
She took it off the potential danger hazard and tossed it to the side, her brown eyes on his again as she lifted her slip over her head in one fluid motion, revealing herself to him completely. She lowered herself onto the bed, crawling backwards and resting against the pillows, a smile on her face as she crooked a finger at him, beckoning him over.
Robb sprang into action, hopping slightly as he struggled to pull off his boots and yank off his breeches. She laughed as he leapt on the bed, making her bounce slightly in his haste to kiss her once more. He swallowed her giggles, turning them into a moan as his hands trailed up her sides, thumbs brushing against her breasts. He settled between her open thighs as he hovered above her, his mouth moving from her mouth to her neck, settling above her pulse and sucking gently. Maliya couldn't contain her loud gasp as heat zinged through her body, her nails reflexively digging to his back.
He let out a sharp breath at the combination of pleasure and pain, his hips thrusting forward and rubbing against her. "Robb," she groaned impatiently, feeling as if she were going to spontaneously combust if he didn't do something soon. "Please, please, please," she chanted breathlessly.
She stopped mid-chant as Robb willingly obliged her, his hips moving forward and finally joining them as one. "Oh," she gasped, back arching slightly as Robb paused, giving her a moment to adjust. It had been so long since they had been together like this that she felt as if he was stretching her slightly.
That strange feeling came over her again as he hovered above her, supporting himself on his elbows. He was pressing small, feather like kisses wherever he could reach – her mouth, her cheeks, her neck, her eyelids and she felt her heart swell. Her hands trailed down his sides, gripping his hips and bringing them forward, gasping again as he moved inside her. He took up a slow, steady rhythm, pulling almost all the way out before snapping his hips forward once more.
She took a moment to observe him and commit this moment to memory before she was completely overwhelmed and could not think clearly. She could feel the strength of the muscles in his arms and shoulders. She watched his eyebrows furrow in concentration, her eyes trailing over the sweaty curls plastered to his forehead. His burning blue eyes nearly rolled back into his head as she hooked her legs around his back, taking him even deeper and meeting him thrust for thrust.
Breath hitching, Maliya wrapped one arm around Robb's neck, pulling him as close to her as possible and he did not resist. She found the weight of him, the feeling of him surrounding her completely both safe and comforting. Her other arm clasped the side of his face, guiding his lips back to hers and she moaned deep in her throat. He tasted of passion, desire and need and Maliya thought she could kiss him all day, especially when he sucked her bottom lip into his mouth, biting gently before soothing it with his tongue.
He must have felt her fluttering around him, the coil inside her spiraling her higher and higher, because his pace increased, their kiss growing sloppy. "Shit," she whimpered against his lips, her eyes screwing tightly shut. Her nails dug into his shoulders, the other hand twisting in the sheets as she desperately tried to find something to anchor herself.
She could tell Robb was close because he could barely contain the low moans spilling from his mouth as both his breath and his pace grew erratic. Her eyes snapped open just before she flew over the edge, her gaze locking on his. "I love you," she murmured frantically, eyes widening, before her hips snapped up one final time, mouth dropping open in a silent scream as her body exploded. Robb followed immediately after her at the feel of her tightening around him, burying his face in her neck as he groaned her name, his body shuddering at the force of his release.
Maliya panted, staring up at the ceiling of the tent, eyes wide as her body trembled, pleasurable aftershocks running through her limbs. One of her hands lightly rubbed up and down Robb's back as his chest heaved, struggling to get his breath back under control.
She felt his head turn, his lips pressing against her throat, trailing lazy kisses up over her jaw, shakily raising himself on his arms to press a light kiss to her lips, sighing in contentment. "I love you too," he smiled, slipping out of her and rolling off her onto his back. His arm threaded under and around her neck, bringing her with him so that her head rested against his chest, a leg threaded between the two of his. She couldn't help but smile as she felt his fingers threading gently through her hair, her arm winding around his waist as the sweat dried on their bodies. She had missed this. She had missed him.
She must have dozed for a moment or two because she came to a little while later, shivering slightly as the cool night air hit her now dry skin. She was exhausted, her body still pleasantly heavy, but she found that she couldn't drift back to sleep. Sighing in annoyance, Maliya peeked up at Robb's peaceful, slumbering face, looking so much like the boy she had married a year ago without the worries of being the King in the North.
Carefully, she slipped out of his embrace, freezing for a moment as he grumbled, rolling over onto his stomach and grabbing her pillow instead. Smiling slightly at the sight of his attractive, bare ass, she gently pulled the sheets over his body before sliding off the bed and wrapping Robb's robe around her. She glanced around the tent, wondering briefly where Grey Wind was as she took in the sight of the clothes strewn about the ground.
Deciding to leave it for the moment, Maliya walked opposite the bed to where one of the guards had brought her bag after she had arrived. She dug past the dresses, undergarments and gloves to where her most prized possessions were hidden and pulled out the flask with the Moon Tea. Sighing, she opened it and raised it to her lips to drink it when she froze. Don't you want a child of your own? Shaking her head to dispel the voice and muttering angrily to herself, she forced herself to take a swallow. Almost immediately, however, she spat it out, wiping her mouth against her sleeve as a feeling of panic and disgust washed over her.
Closing the flask, she hurriedly shoved it back in her bag so it was out of sight before collapsing back on the ground, stunned as a realization swept over her. She didn't want to drink the Moon Tea.
An image appeared in her mind, unbidden. A baby boy looking up at her with Robb's dazzling blue eyes, and a little girl with long, curly auburn hair. She pictured Robb snuggling their child close, teaching their son or daughter to ride a horse or swing a sword. A warmth spread through her chest at the images and she faltered slightly as she realized there was a smile playing around the corner of her lips.
Somewhere along her journey over the past year, her constant desire for revenge diminished slightly as she fell in love with the husband that she was determined to hate and now… well, she still wasn't completely sure if she wanted children, but she did know that she wanted the option to have them. Somewhere along the line, the thought of becoming a mother didn't seem like the worst thing in the world. If she had a man like Robb Stark by her side, then surely even she could be a mother.
And so, at that moment, Maliya decided to stop taking the Moon Tea, resolving to let nature take its course. In this instance at least, she was going to allow the gods to decide if or when she should have a child.
Everything was going to shit. Theon's mine raced, trying to recall exactly when things had started to spiral out of control. Was it when his father gave most of the ships and the forces to his Uncle Victarion and his sister Asha? Was it when his Uncle Aeron urged him to offer Benfred Tallharts Wild Hares to the Drowned Gods? Or was it his decision to take Winterfell in the first place?
The world seemed to come to a standstill – it was almost as if everything that was happening wasn't really happening to him. He could feel every drop of rain as it poured from the sky. He could feel the mud squishing beneath his boots and the weighted stares of both his own men and the people of Winterfell alike.
I should have put a sword in your belly instead of your hand, Theon Turncloak. Ser Rodrik had growled, struggling from where Black Lorren and one of his other men held him captive. His sharp words were accompanied by a glob of spit that Theon angrily swiped of his face. Theon's first instinct was to throw him in the dungeons but Dagmar Cleftjaw was whispering in his ear that his men would never respect him if he let this go.
He clenched his jaw, the rain dripping off his hair and down his face as he glanced away from Ser Rodrik. For some reason when he looked into the furious eyes of the old man, he couldn't help but think of the first wooden sword that he had had made for him, all the times he coached him through the footwork that went along with swordfighting, or the pretend sparring tournaments that he had with Robb and Jon Snow.
"When he spits on you, he spits on all of us. He spits on the Drowned God," Dagmar grunted in a low voice. "They'll never respect you while he lives. He must die."
At his words, Theon straightened his shoulders, his resolve strengthing. He was reminded of who he really was and what he was doing. His name was Prince Theon Greyjoy. He was the heir to the Iron Islands and Lord of Winterfell and he was going to prove to his father that he should be trusted above his sister. "Ser Rodrik, I sentence you to death!" He shouted, loud enough for the entire courtyard to hear.
He didn't need Ser Rodrik reminding him that he was raised here in Winterfell by Ned Stark. He didn't need the reminder that these were his people or that he grew up alongside Robb and the rest of the Stark children. Ned Stark was dead and he didn't treat Theon anything like he treated his own sons. Theon was no more than a hostage, his brothers killed by Stark men and held in Winterfell to prevent any more uprisings from his father.
"No!" Theon heard Bran shout from where he was seated off to the side. "You said no harm would come to them if I yielded!"
Maester Luwin hurried forward and began speaking to him in a low, urgent voice. Theon stared down at him as he pleaded his case, pushing aside the images of the maester wiping a wet cloth across his forehead when he was two and ten and had come down with a fever or the time the time the old man bandaged his wrist when he broke it after a bad fall off his horse. Annoyed with himself, he cut the maester off mid-sentence. "You'll address me as Prince Theon or you'll be next," he snapped, pushing him aside and gesturing Black Lorren to bring Ser Rodrik over to the chopping block.
"No!" He heard Bran wail, and he glanced over to see tears streaming down his face as Maester Luwin attempted to comfort him. Osha, the wildling woman who had just attempted to pledge her loyalty to him, was hugging a terrified Rickon, murmuring comforting words in his ear. More images appeared; it seemed his mind was determined to torture him with useless memories. A curious little Bran who used to follow after him several years after he was brought to Winterfell, or watching little Rickon as he grew and learned how to walk and talk. "Please Theon, I beg you, don't do this!" Bran pleaded loudly, his voice cracking.
Theon tuned him out and turned to where Dagmar stood over a kneeling Ser Rodrik, his sword at the ready. "He who passes the sentence should swing the sword," Ser Rodrik growled, staring up at Theon with hatred in his eyes.
Curling his lip contemptuously, Theon yanked his sword free, heart pounding and his stomach swirling unpleasantly. "Any last words, old man?"
"Gods help you, Theon Turncloak. Now you are truly lost." Bran's yelling increased as Theon raised his sword and Ser Rodrik glanced over at him. "Hush, now child. I'm off to see your father."
With a savage grunt, Theon brought the sword down on Ser Rodrik's exposed neck with all his strength. Blood spurted from the old mans mouth and Theon was appalled to see that his cut didn't go all the way through. Whenever Ned Stark beheaded a man, he did it with one swing. Filled with panic and anger, Theon brought the sword down again, failing to block out the sounds of Bran's screams, Rickon's sobs and horrified gasps and whispers of the rest of the town folk. Warm blood spattered across his face and his flinched, but with a third hack and a kick, the head finally separated from the neck and Ser Rodrik was dead.
Sighing happily, Maliya snuggled deeper under the furs as she felt a warm breath against her face and neck. She giggled sleepily when she felt a cold nose against her jaw. "Robb, stop that! Your nose is cold and – augh!" She spluttered, eyes snapping open as a hot wet tongue licked up the length of her face. "Grey Wind!" She laughed, sitting up and pushing his face away when he licked her again. "Where have you been, you big hairy direwolf?" She asked, scratching behind his ears and pressing a kiss to his nose.
Grey flopped down next to her, taking up more than half the bed with his huge size, and placed his head in her lap with a contented sigh. "Well, I missed you too, Grey," she smiled, fixing her pillows so she could lay back. Her hands absentmindly scratched the top of his head. "You know, you're getting almost too big to snuggle with, boy." She glanced over at Robb's side of the bed, glancing around the tent and finding it empty. "Where is that Robb of ours, hmm?"
"Your Grace?" A deep voice called from the entrance to her tent.
"Yes?" Maliya called, glancing down at the nightgown that she had slipped on last night before she went to bed and making sure it properly covered her. Wincing, she stretched and reached over Grey Wind to the end of her bed and threw her bedrobe on over her shoulders and covering her chest. "What is it?"
"There's a Tyene Sand that wishes to speak with you."
Maliya relaxed. Tyene had seen her in worse than this. "You may send her in."
"Thank you," Maliya heard Tyene say to the guard sweetly. She could almost picture her cousin's sultry grin and the hand that she placed upon the guard's arm. "I am so glad that there's someone like you to protect my cousin from harm." She heard the guard stuttering and stammering as the tent flapped opened and Tyene walked in wearing a beautiful, flowing white dress, with her blonde hair down and loose. As always she looked sweet and innocent and Maliya knew it was because Tyene could get away with so much mischief when she was underestimated as nothing more than a simple woman. "I apologize Maliya, but I feel as if I've been waiting for you – "
She froze at the sight of Grey Wind lying across her lap, her blue eyes widening in shock. "It's alright, Ty, he won't hurt you."
Tyene looked uneasy and unconvinced. "I'll still keep my distance, thanks," she responded. "I heard some of the men say that he killed a dozen men in the last battle alone."
Maliya gave Grey Wind a proud pat and a grin. "I'm sure he did." She rolled her eyes slightly as Tyene stayed right where she was and didn't budge an inch. "I suppose he can be slightly intimidating if you haven't seen him grow from the pup he was to the big monster he is now. Alright, Grey, run along, now," Maliya urged, gently pushing him off her lap. "It's been over a year since I've seen Tyene and we need to talk." Grey Wind got up with a grumbling sigh and jumped off the bed, slowly stalking past a very still Tyene and out of the tent. "Well, come on!" She told Tyene impatiently, patting the bed next to her.
Tyene walked over to her, looking at the bed for a moment before choosing to perch gingerly on the edge of it next to Maliya. She explained at the look of confusion on Maliya's face. "I don't know what sort of debauchery went on in this bed last night and I don't want to know – " She paused, thinking, before a devilish grin crossed her face. "Actually, yes, I do want to know. Tell me everything. What's the Young Wolf like under the furs? They say the Northmen are wild and your husband has a sort of rugged handsomeness about him. Plus, you're just waking now and with the state of your hair it must have been a very interesting night."
Maliya's face flushed red as memories of last night surfaced in her mind. She couldn't help the smile that crossed her face, though, as she gave Tyene a gentle shove. "Oh, be quiet," she chuckled, her hand lifting to her long hair as she attempted to comb through the snarls with her fingers. "What happens in this bed is between my husband and I. Though I will say that Robb is wonderful and every time is absolutely incredible." Maliya looked over at Tyene and smacked her arm again.
"Ow! What was that for?" Tyene cried indignantly.
"I know you, Tyene Sand!" Maliya scolded with a halfhearted glare. "Stop picturing my husband naked!"
"Well, can you blame me?" She grumbled, rubbing her arm. "Your husband is a handsome, foreign king and it actually seems like he's a decent man."
"He is," Maliya smiled, sinking further into her pillows as a faraway look entered her eye. "We had a rough start, but Robb is a kind man who genuinely cares for all his men and the smallfolk, he's considerate of my feelings and he's a good king. The most admirable part is that he loves his family and would do absolutely anything for them."
"You love him," Tyene observed quietly, sounding mildly surprised.
"I do," she admitted, her voice warm. "Somehow, the entire Stark family has found a place in my heart. But enough about me, how are you?" Maliya asked, looking at Tyene with an imploring look on her face. "How is everyone else back in Dorne?"
"We're all fine," Tyene reassured her, waving a hand. "Everyone misses you, of course, it's not quite the same. Trystane spent the first couple weeks after you left moping about the palace, but Obara and Nymeria began teaching him how to fight and that seemed to perk all of them up. Arianne has been kept busy running Sunspear, but she talks about you all the time."
"Running Sunspear?" Maliya repeated in confusion, sitting up straighter at the news. "Why? Where's my father?"
"Uncle Doran…" Tyene trailed off, biting her lip. "He's… well, he's moved to the Water Gardens, Maliya. He left a few weeks after you did and he hasn't been back to Sunspear since."
"Is he alright?" Alarm was running through her, making her eyes widen and her heart pound in her chest. "What happened, Tyene, why did he move to the Water Gardens?"
"He missed you, I think," Tyene told her gently, reaching for her hand. "The palace wasn't the same without you, it lacked a certain light. It was more than that, though. A month or two after you left, his gout worsened and he had to start walking with a stick. It continued to get worse and more oft than not, now, he uses a specially designed chair with wheels that Areo pushes him around in. Father used to visit him twice a fortnight and says that he spends a lot of his time by the pools watching the children."
"He's in pain?" Maliya asked in a high voice, sounding as if she were in pain herself. "How much pain? Are there any other complications that go along with the gout? Oh, seven hells," she swore, throwing off the furs and jumping out of the bed. "I need to go to him – "
"Maliya, don't be ridiculous!" Tyene said loudly, grabbing her hands and forcing her to meet her eyes. "Your father would not want you to go rushing off to him because he's in a little bit of pain. You're needed here, after all."
"Oh, I just can't stand the thought of him alone and in pain so far away," Maliya confided, the fight leaving her as she collapsed down on the bed and putting her head on her hands. "He and Arianne don't always see eye to eye and Trystane is too young to travel back and forth from Sunspear to the Water Gardens."
"Uncle Doran will be fine, Maliya," Tyene reassured her, patting her back comfortingly. "He's got the Martell blood in him, after all. Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken."
"You're right," Maliya sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I just worry. It's been a year since I've seen him and with his health problems, sometimes I fear… nevermind." She shook her head, determined not to think such dark thoughts. "Let's talk of something happier."
"How is Maliya?" His mother asked in a concerned voice as they strolled through the camp, her arm looped through his. "She didn't seem quite like herself during our journey back."
Robb sighed, trying not to let a frown cross his face as his men greeted him when they walked past. "I'm not sure. Last night we… didn't talk much," he said, feeling his cheeks heat as he realized what he just admitted to his mother. "I had business to attend to this morning and have been busy ever since. I suppose we haven't really had a chance to talk yet." He glanced down at his mother as a sudden thought crossed his mind. "Are you worried about her?"
Her mother looked offended. "Maliya is my good-daughter, of course I'm worried about her!" She caught the look on Robb's face and continued on. "Admittedly, we weren't close when you first married her… then everything with Bran happened and I rode south shortly after that. But I think our relationship has strengthened on our recent journey."
"I'm pleased to hear that mother," Robb smiled, putting a hand on top of hers. "You are two of the most important women in my life. I really – "
"Apologies, Your Grace, my lady," a soft voice said, causing the two of them to turn. Roose Bolton was standing behind them, a grave look on his face. "There's a letter for you from Winterfell. It's waiting for you in the command tent."
"From Bran and Rickon?" Lady Stark questioned, perking up. She pulled her hand free from Robb's arm and lifted her skirts. "It's been so long since we've heard from them," she said as she rushed off.
"Lord Bolton would you find someone to send for my wife?" Robb asked, feeling unsettled by the man's pale, grey eyes.
"Of course, Your Grace."
Robb strode off after his mother, entering the tent just as she was plucking the rolled up parchment from the table and opening it. He watched her eyes scan the letter quickly, her face paling and a horrified expression crossing her face. "What?" Robb asked urgently, walking over to her. "What is it?" Mouth parted, eyes wide, she wordlessly handed the letter over to him. A pit of dread settled in his stomach as Robb took it from her and began to read. The words were barely legible, but he recognized the writing as Maester Luwin's written in a hasty scrawl. He had to read the sentences over and over again before the understanding sunk in.
"There's news from Winterfell?" He heard Maliya ask in a bright voice as she swept into the tent, wearing a long sleeved, green colored dress. Robb looked up at her and though he didn't know what expression was on his face, she knew instantly that something was wrong. "Robb?" She questioned, walking over to him, glancing between him and his mother. "What's happened?"
"Winterfell has been taken," Robb told her in a shocked, empty voice, bracing a hand on the table as he slowly sank into a seat. "By Theon."
Maliya blinked at him, beginning to shake her head in disbelief. "But.. but you sent Theon to Pyke to get his father's ships… why would he take Winterfell?"
"I told you," his mother spat in a shaky voice, beginning to pace back and forth. He could feel the anger and anxiety emanating off her in waves, and it slammed into him, leaving him off-balance. "I told you never to trust a Greyjoy!"
"This cannot be true," Robb implored, looking at Roose Bolton who entered the tent behind Maliya. "There must be some mistake."
"We've had ravens from White Harbor, Barrowton and the Dreadfort," Bolton informed him, his face impassive and his voice emotionless. "They all tell the same tale. The Greyjoy boy is calling himself a Prince and has taken Winterfell in the name of his father, Balon Greyjoy, King of the Iron Islands."
"But why?" Robb asked, hating that he sounded like a confused, lost boy. He felt Maliya place a hand on his shoulder as she stood behind him and tried to take some comfort in her touch. "Why would Theon – "
"Because the Greyjoys are treasonous whores," Bolton shrugged.
"What about Bran?" His mother asked desperately. "And Rickon?"
"We've heard nothing of them. But Rodrik Cassel is dead."
Robb abruptly stood, the pit of dread transforming into a pit of anger. "I must go north at once. What kind of King would I be if I cannot even hold my own castle? How can my men follow me if I can't even – "
Oddly enough, it was Roose Bolton who offered words of advice and comfort. "It's because you are king that you don't have to go north. Theon holds Winterfell with a skeleton crew. With your permission, I will send word to my bastard at the Dreadfort. He can raise a few hundred men and retake the castle before the new moon. We've come too far, Your Grace, we have the Lannisters on the run. If you go all the way north now, you'll lose what you've gained."
Robb gave him a single nod, trying not to convey the feeling that he was losing control. "Tell him that Bran and Rickon's safety is paramount. Tell him that I want Theon Greyjoy back to me alive," he growled, blue eyes flashing. So many emotions were swirling inside him. Anger at Theon, guilt at himself for causing this mess, fear for his brothers and a strong urge to do something to help. "I want to look him in the eye and ask him why. And then I'll take his head myself."
Bolton bowed slightly. "I'll write the letter at once, Your Grace."
"This is all my fault," Robb whispered once he had left. His throat burned as he looked up at his mother. "If I hadn't have sent Theon to his father, none of this would have happened."
"I was the one who said it was a good idea," Maliya added, a hand on her stomach, looking sick at the thought. "I should have been there," she realized, look up at them both with wide, horrified eyes. "I left Bran and Rickon in Winterfell by themselves, alone and unprotected! If I had been there with them, maybe I could have done something to stop this."
"It is useless to place any blame," Lady Stark told them, moving closer and putting a hand on each of their shoulders. "This is no one's fault but Theon Greyjoys. We have to pray that Bran and Rickon are alright," his mother continued fiercely. "Lord Bolton's bastard will take Winterfell back and the boys will be safe. There's nothing for us to do but pray."
With one hand braced against the wall next to the window, Theon looked out into the night, surveying Winterfell from Lord Stark's old bedchambers. Those bloody direwolves were still howling from where they had been trapped in the Godswood, adding to the throbbing pain already in his head. He hadn't slept properly in days and he had tried everything – drinking wine before heading to bed or losing himself in the always eager and willing Kyra – but nothing seemed to work.
His mind seemed determined to torture him. Theon raised the cup of wine to his lips and took a long swallow as he couldn't help but remember the nightmares that had been plaguing him ever since he took Winterfell. It always took place in the Great Hall, looking just as it did when King Robert came to visit, though the music had a haunting quality to it.
King Robert sat at the head of the table, laughing jovially as his guts spilled over the table. Lord Stark sat beside him, his neck dripping blood as he held his severed head in his arms. Familiar corpses lined the rest of the table. Jory Cassel and the rest of the soldiers who rode south, Ser Rodrik, Benfred Tallhart and even the wilding that he had killed while saving Bran. There were others as well. A pale, beautiful woman with a crown of blue roses and a bloody white gown, a burned man and another with a noose around his neck that he somehow knew to be Rickard, Brandon and Lyanna Stark.
It was always at this point where the doors opened, blowing out the remainder of the candles with a gust of cold wind. Robb strode in, his eyes dead and empty. Grey Wind stalked in beside him and both of them were dripping from half a hundred bloody wounds.
Grimacing, Theon downed the rest of his wine and walked across the room to pour himself his third… no possibly fourth cup. He desperately wished that if he drank enough, it would erase the guilt and uncertainty that he felt and make him forget the judgement and hatred that he saw in the eyes of everyone in this castle. Most of it, however, was directed at him from Bran. Rickon was just scared, he was too young to really understand what was going on. But Bran…. the betrayal in his eyes every time he looked at Theon seemed to cut straight through him. He couldn't help but be reminded that he had taken these boys hostage just as he had once been taken all those years ago.
A knock sounded at the door, sending a rush of annoyance through him and darkening his mood further. "What is it?" He snapped, turning towards the door. The room spun slightly and he had to put a hand on the table to steady himself. He must have had more wine than he thought.
The door opened and the men he had stationed outside his door walked in, a hand on the wildling woman's shoulder. "She said she wanted to talk to you, my prince," the guard grunted.
"I'm here to prove that I owe my allegiance to you," the wildling told him in her low voice.
Theon was in no mood for this tonight. "Why should I trust you?" He asked irritably, drinking more wine. "All wildlings are liars and savages with no loyalty to anything or anyone."
"I am no liar. Everything I've done I did so I could stay alive." The wildling, Osha was her name if Theon's blurry mind could recall correctly, just tilted her head to the side as she looked at him. "I owe no loyalty to the Starks – they took me prisoner and sent me to work in the kitchens. Let me serve you, my lord."
He finished his cup and put it on the table a little harder than necessary in his annoyance. "I'm a prince now. You'd do well to – "
"Let me serve you, my prince," she corrected immediately, undettered.
"And how, exactly, do you propose to do that?"
Osha wrenched herself free from the guard's grip, throwing him a disgusted glare before taking a step closer to Theon. "We know things, the free people," she murmured suggestively, playing with the ties on the front of her ragged dress. "Savage things."
Theon noticed the hint of a promise in her eyes and felt mildly intrigued. Not too long ago he had thought the woman worthy of a good fuck. "Wait outside," Theon commanded the man without looking at him. He left without a word. "I always wondered what you had on under there."
"It comes at a price," Osha warned him, though he watched her fingers continue to slowly unlace her dress.
"I'm not killing you," he reminded her in a drawl. "That's your price."
"I already had that. I want my freedom."
Maybe this was the distraction that Theon had been looking for. He moved closer to her, taking a finger and bringing it down the rest of the laces, loosening them so her dress slipped off her shoulders. She caught the dress before it fell to her feet, but her breasts sprang free and Theon was pleasantly surprised. "Alright, you can have your freedom," Theon conceded. "If you serve me well."
Osha pressed against him seductively, one hand cupping the back of his neck to pull his head down to hers and kiss him. Her lips moved against his eagerly, and her hands didn't stay in one place for long. They went up to run through his hair, one wrapping an arm around his neck and the other hand trailing down his chest, helping him out of his tunic before dipping into his breeches.
She froze, pulling back and looking up at him, her brows slightly furrowed. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Theon snapped, forcibly removing her hand and lacing himself back up again as embarrassment and irritation flooded through him. "Too much wine." Truth was, he's had much more wine than he had tonight and still been able to perform. For the first time in his life, he was in no mood for a good fuck. His mind just wouldn't allow him to enjoy it. "What are you doing here anyway? More oft than not I see you and that half wit with those Stark boys. What are you up to?"
"Nothing, my prince, I've told you before I owe no allegiance to – "
Feeling incredibly suspicious, Theon grabbed her and patted her down, rummaging in her dress until he found a small knife hidden in her pocket. Osha wrenched free of him with a snarl, quickly lacing her dress back up as Theon held the knife in the air triumphantly. "What were you planning to do, wildling? Kill me and escape into the night with the Stark boys?"
Osha glared at him fiercely but didn't deny it. He watched her eyes flicker around the room, looking for a way to escape. "Those boys are innocents," she hissed, shifting on her feet, glancing over her shoulder to the doors. "They don't deserve to have their home taken by someone they once thought of as a brother or to watch the people they care about be killed." He wondered if she could see the pain and doubt that he felt. "The little lord says that his brother will send men to rescue them – "
"My sister is at Deepwood Motte. I've already sent word for her to send more men."
"Then war will be brought to the gates of Winterfell. I was just trying to keep the little princes safe," she snapped defensively, looking like she was preparing herself to fight. "I won't allow any harm to come to them."
A wave of weariness washed over Theon. He was so tired of this. Tired of feeling like he was being split in two different directions, tired of being told that he should owe his allegiance to the Starks who raised him while feeling like he had to prove himself to the father that created him. Tired of trying to forget that he watched both Bran and Rickon grow for the past ten years or that Winterfell hadn't been his reluctant home.
Theon Turncloak. Seven hells, how he hated that name. Was that what he was going to be remembered as for the rest of his life?
Theon fingered the edge of the knife, turning away from Osha and moving towards the window once more. "Just go," Theon told her impulsively, making a split second decision and not wanting to think too far into the possible consequences.
He could almost feel Osha's confusion. "You're just going to let me walk free and – "
"You're free to go," Theon reiterated, speaking quickly now before he changed his mind. "I don't want to know what you do or where you go, just get out of my sight." He knew that the way he phrased his words could effectively be interpreted as permission for the wilding to continue on with her plan of escaping with the Stark boys. There was no movement behind him, but after a moment, he heard the door open and close behind him and breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe now, that terrible feeling inside of him would ease up a little. Maybe now, he wouldn't be taking those boys down with him.
He trotted back out of the forest, the taste of his meal still fresh in his mouth and his belly full and sated. His keen eyes swept in front of him as he weaved through the small cloth buildings. The men recoiled away from him as he suddenly out of the darkness and he could smell the sharp tang of their fear. Other smells assaulted him from every direction – the coppery scent of blood and the acrid smell of rotting flesh, and the ever present stench of men.
As he neared the place where his man and woman slept, his pace slowed. Something was wrong. The two metal men who were usually standing outside the cloth building were missing and there was a strange, salty smell in the air. Hackles raising and his lips curling back to reveal his fangs, he slowly stalked forward.
He nudged the cloth aside with his nose and even through the darkness he could see the tall cloaked man standing over the bed, with something raised in the air. A furious snarl ripped from his throat, followed by a piercing scream as he took one bounding leap and lunged with his mouth wide.
Robb suddenly gasped awake, sitting upright as he registered that Maliya was on her knees next to him, her nails digging into his arms, her eyes wide with shock. Robb scrambled out of bed, acting on instinct alone as he dived for his sword. "Grey Wind!" Maliya cried, and he heard rather than saw Grey Wind attack the intruder.
The man shouted in fear and raised his dagger but with his large size, Grey Wind had already easily knocked the man to the ground, his teeth closing around the man's throat and ripping it out in a spray of blood. He was already dead by the time Robb pulled his sword free and made his way around the bed.
"Who in the seven hells was that?" Maliya demanded, looking shaken. Grey Wind was eerily calm now that his job was done. Blood still dripped from his muzzle as he leaped on the bed and laid down in front of Maliya protectively. She wound her fingers through the fur on his neck, an action that Robb was certain she didn't consciously think about.
"I don't know," Robb admitted, placing the sword on the bed and sitting next to her. "I don't recognize him." He scratched Grey Wind behind the ears, murmuring his thanks as his heart beat began to slow in his chest. "Are you alright?" He asked her in concern, wrapping an arm around her. He hated the slight glimmer of fear that he saw in her eyes and a surge of protectiveness surged over him.
At that moment Dacey Mormont burst into the tent, sword drawn as she quickly glanced around and took in the scene before her. Her eyes moved from the dead man on the floor to both Robb and Maliya, scanning them to make sure they were unhurt. An outraged look crossed her face. "Are you alright, Your Graces?" She asked, firing questions and continuing on without waiting for an answer. Where are the guards? Who is supposed to be stationed outside your tent tonight?" She strode out of the tent again and they could hear her yelling outside. "Raise the alarm, you sorry excuse for soldiers!" She roared. "Someone has attempted to murder the king right under your noses! I want to find out who this man is and how he got into the king's tent!"
"He got into our tent while we were sleeping, Robb," she murmured, looking up at him worriedly. "If Grey Wind hadn't been here… Who sent him? Stannis? The Lannisters?"
"We'll get to the bottom of this," Robb promised, rubbing her back soothingly as she leaned against him, thanking the Old Gods that they were both alright. He, however, had another thing to worry about in addition to the attempt on his life.
He had had that dream again, the one where he dreamt that he was Grey Wind. Except this time was different… this time when he woke up, he knew that there was a man in their tent, a man who was going to kill them. He knew that he needed to get to his weapon quickly and he also knew that Grey Wind was there to protect them, which meant that his dream wasn't a dream. It was impossible… yet somehow he had been inside Grey Wind's mind.
What was happening to him?
Author's Note: Well, Maliya has finally decided to stop taking the Moon Tea! I'm sure that will make a lot of you very happy. Also, it looks like the secrets that Maliya has been keeping from Robb are building up along with the guilt. Will she start cracking under the pressure?
She was able to catch up a bit with Tyene, but her heart to heart with Oberyn was one of the scenes that was put on hold. What did you guys think of the scenes with Theon? That was pretty tricky for me to write and I hope you were able to understand his feelings and his decisions.
Next up: Maliya and Oberyn, a group rides to the Crags, Theon deals with the consequences of his decision, possibly another conversation between Maliya and Jaime and a few other surprises thrown in there.
Charlie: Thanks for your review! You're very astute, Maliya will definitely continued to be affected by Lorch's murder. She's only human and if something like that didn't affect her, than something is seriously wrong lol. I hope you liked this chapter!
Rusty14: You were thinking along the same lines as Maliya! She didn't care who she was at that moment, morally she couldn't just leave those women to suffer that fate. Unfortunately, life isn't that simple for her anymore, something that Lady Stark helped her realize. Her big decision wasn't to tell Robb the truth, not yet anyway! Thanks for your review!
Guest 1: Thanks for reviewing, here's the update!
Ada: Welcome to my story, I really enjoyed reading your review! I'm not really a fan of giving away too many spoilers because I like to surprise you guys, but I will say that Varys successfully smuggled Aegon out during the Sack of King's Landing I can't tell you how happy it makes me that you like Maliya/Rhaenys. Sometimes it's very difficult to create characters that fit into Game of Thrones, so I'm glad you believe her fighting skills and her need for revenge. I hope you liked this chapter, I can't wait to read what you thought!
Betho: Welcome to my story! I have to admit that I've never quite had a review that made me think as much as yours did! I'm glad you like the story, cause the way you described Maliya was in a way that I had never imagined her before. She sounded incredibly annoying haha! Thank you for describing Maliya's flaws in a respectful way, it was quite refreshing to read. Your words have given me a lot to consider and it actually sparked quite a few ideas for future chapters. I appreciate you understanding that Maliya is still young and the story is still new, so Maliya has a long way to go before she can overcome her flaws. We're only on season 2, after all! I hope you liked this chapter too!
Guest 2: Thanks for your review! It will be just as hard for Maliya to forget what she's done as it would be for you. I hope you enjoyed her and Robb's reunion, it's so nice to write them together again. I hope they work out their issues too Hope you enjoyed the chapter!