A/N: Thanks for the support on the last chapter. Lot of different opinions for Jon's name, maybe I'll make it my next poll, but no promises. The wedding is still a few chapters away, but first we need to wrap up some other things.
Our Blades Are Sharp
By Spectre4hire
55: Family, Duty, Honor
Myrcella:
"You're smiling."
"I was?" She had let her mind wander while Tommen had been reading. In her mind's eye, she had conjured images of Robb riding into their encampment, and asking to see her. He'd look so handsome in his armor, and when his blue eyes found her, he declared for all to hear that he chose her as his wife.
It had been perfect.
She looked up from the table where Tommen had closed his book. "I am happy, brother." She did not want to reveal that she was daydreaming again.
"Good," Tommen beamed at her. "You deserve to be happy."
"Thank you, brother," She reached across the table to squeeze his hand. Not for the first time did she find herself wondering why the gods had made Tommen her younger brother and not the older.
Uncle Kevan had been true to his word, getting her and Tommen out of the city. Her mother had not been pleased, but Myrcella knew it was not because she cared for them. No, Mother was not pleased, because having them leave was a slight on her power. It made her look weak.
Tommen would soon be leaving for Casterly Rock where Aunt Gemma would continue his education. She would miss her brother dearly, but she knew he would thrive at the Rock, and would not begrudge him the opportunity.
As for her, it was Riverrun she hoped to set her eyes on. Robb too. She added, her cheeks going warm at the thought of seeing her betrothed once more.
They were a few day's ride from Riverrun. Uncle Kevan had set up camp to allow better and swifter communication between them and the seat of House Tully. Messengers had ridden back and forth, but with each new term or truce suggestion, they seemed no closer in agreeing to something.
She knew Uncle Kevan was getting frustrated. Last night, she had overheard him talking to some of his men. He had said Tywin was getting impatient, and that they'd need to turn their attention south soon.
Let me go to Winterfell, let me someday call Robb my husband, she had prayed every night. With no conclusion in she was not sure if the gods were listening or not. The waiting and the not knowing what was to happen had made her tummy ache constantly. She didn't want to return to the capital, to her brother and mother.
Please let them take me, thinking of the north and riverlands, and of her Robb. Let me go to them. I will be a good wife. I will show them that a southern princess can do well in the north. I will win their affection and prove that I am not my brother.
A chance, she prayed, All I need is a chance.
"Nothing?"
"No, my lord," She did not like to disappoint her future good father. She was sitting in his tent while he hobbled in his pacing resembling an agitated wolf. The sight reminded her of Sansa's direwolf, Lady, when she had first arrived to the capital.
She understood why he was upset. They had been here for nearly a week and he remained their prisoner. He wants to see his family. They are close but he remains in our clutches.
It saddened her to see him in such a way. I do not blame him. I do not want to here. Robb was so close, my hope, my escape, but I am still here too. She was not foolish enough to compare herself to Lord Stark who was her Uncle's prisoner, while she was a princess but she understood his need to reunite with his family.
"Are you sure you do not want to sit down, my lord?" She could see that his constant movement was bringing him more pain. He leaned heavily on his cane, and his steps became slower after each circuit he had made in the tent her Uncle had provided for him.
"I am fine." His grip on his cane tightened.
"Of course," She bowed her head, not wanting to further upset him. Then she remembered the maester's words and warnings that he should not further aggravate his wound. "They would want you to rest."
He stopped at her words. He turned to her, and for the first time since she could remember, he was giving her his full attention. Something passed over his face as their eyes met, but she was not certain what it was. It had happened so quickly.
"You have a kind heart," He looked at her with a sad smile. He then very slowly relented to her request, and took the seat across from where she was sitting.
She beamed at his praise. Myrcella could not remember the last time she had seen him smile at her. Joffrey's stupidity nearly poisoned her fruitful relationship with the Starks. It was just another reason why she despised her brother.
"I've always wanted to see Riverrun," She found herself saying aloud.
Any day, the truce will be agreed, she hoped. Lord Stark and myself will walk to the gates of the castle together. Robb would be waiting for me and smiling.
"It is a fine castle."
"You were married there were you not, Lord Stark?" She remembered the stories Father would tell about his rebellion against the dragons. The weddings in the Riverlands that secured House Tully to her father's cause.
"I was."
I'll be married at Winterfell, she smiled at the thought. In front of all the North. Tommen will be there for me, not Joffrey, she decided.
Her mind went back to Riverrun, to Robb, to the Tully's, his mother's family. Their house words coming to her from her lessons. "I think I'd be a poor Tully."
"Pardon?" Lord Stark seemed caught off guard by her words.
She turned to see his grey eyes were looking at her. "Family, Duty, Honor," she recited, "Family comes first to them, and I love my brother Tommen, but," She paused, uncertain if she could go on, what would he think of her if she did? Maybe he'll realize I'm not like them, that thought encouraged her to continue.
"But my Mother, Joffrey," She could feel her face scrunching up at the thought of them. "You could not pay me fifty thousand gold dragons to put either of them above others." Above you, she wanted to add, but she wasn't bold enough.
"I suppose that makes me a bad daughter." She could already picture Septa Eglantine scowling and scolding her for making such a sinful confession. In that admission, she did not want to look up to see Lord Stark, fearing he'd be just as disappointed as her old septa.
"I'd be good to Tommen," She defended. "I just wish we had a family like yours," she confessed.
A foolish dream, but one I cannot stop having. I cannot change where I come from but where I'm going I could have that family I longed for, with Robb, and all the other Starks. I could finally be a part of one…
She eventually looked up as the silence stretched on between them. His face was unreadable. His grey eyes were unyielding. She found herself discouraged by his reaction. She feared what he must suddenly think of her. She got to her feet.
"I will leave you, Lord Stark." She dipped into a curtsey, and slipped away before he could say anything and before he could see her tears.
Sansa:
In the distance she could see Riverrun's sandstone walls.
She and Domeric were currently walking along the Tumblestone. The sunlight was shimmering down on them, fresh and colorful flowers as far as the eye could see. The rush of the river was loud, but it diminished the noise coming from where the northern forces were camped outside of the Tully's ancestral seat.
It had been Domeric's idea to escape the castle. They had wanted to take horses, but Robb had refused, saying he couldn't guarantee their safety if they traveled too far from Riverrun. So this was the compromise. Behind them were more than a handful of Stark guards serving as chaperones to insure appropriate behavior was observed between her and her betrothed. Those had also been non negotiable on her brother's part.
Sansa was more amused than annoyed at her brother's protectiveness. Accepting them with a smile before she and Domeric with Lady and their chaperones left the castle.
Soon, we will not need chaperones. She reminded herself. I'll be his wife, and him my husband.
Up ahead, she could see Lady sprinting along, splashing into the shallow end of the river.
If I concentrated, could I feel the cool mist of water as Lady ran through it?
Her lessons with Jon had helped her immensely. He was right that the knowledge of it alone was a boon in her trying to improve. It made her more conscious of the shift between her and Lady. She had trouble holding it when she slipped into her direwolf during the day as opposed at night. When she slept and she'd all but reach out to Lady and stay in her wolf until she woke the next morning.
I'm a warg. It was a strange confession to make. When Jon had spoken of it, she felt a slight pull in the back of her mind, memories of when she was a young girl. The word was more familiar than she thought. In the days when she was still enraptured by Old Nan or Father's stories about the old north and its legends. Before her attention shifted by a needling Septa, and her desire to make her Mother happy had her turn her focus on the south and the Seven.
A particular memory had stood out to her. Sansa was six. She was in Robb's room, huddled closely to her eldest brother, Jon was on his other side. They were all in Robb's bed, wanting a story from Old Nan. Her brothers listening intently while trying not to react especially in fear. It was a game between them, she remembered, to see who would get scared first from one of Old Nan's tales.
He was a fierce foe. They said he had animals do his bidding. They hunted Stark's soldiers. Refusing to bend to the direwolf. They did not just kill them, but they ate them too. An army of predators who knew no fear of man, and were led by the dangerous and deadly Warg king.
One of your ancestors was torn apart and eaten as the Warg King looked on, cackling. Robb and Jon had both jumped at that. Sansa had been too busy trembling to see who had reacted first.
In the end, like all the kings who fought the Kings of Winter, the Warg King was defeated. Robb and Jon had been very proud of this fact. Talking in hushed whispers about the feats of their ancestors who came before them.
The King was slain, as was his sons, and his beasts, and all the other creatures that had become his thrall, but some were spared. She paused, daughters of the Warg king were taken back to Winterfell. Her eyes never leaving Sansa when she finished. So in a way the Warg King lives on in the blood of the Starks, in the blood of you. She had pointed at her then and Sansa had cowered in terror.
I'm not that little girl anymore, afraid or ashamed.
"Sansa?" Her betrothed stood before her. He was wearing a pale red tunic and black trousers. The flayed man was stitched into the cloth in a dark pink.
It took her a moment to realize he was holding something in his hand. It was a wildflower with purple petals and a golden center.
She smiled when she accepted it. She brought it to her nose where the scent was sweet and inviting.
"May I?"
Sansa permitted him with a nod. He gently took the flower from her grip, and then tentatively brushed some of her hair away before tucking it behind her ear. He smiled when he was finished. "Beautiful."
She blushed. She thanked him by kissing his cheek before they continued on their walk. She slipped her hand into his arm as they went.
He was better than the songs I once admired, she thought, Better than any knight or southern prince I once dreamed of. Sansa knew how fortunate she was that he was the man she was intended to marry. In a different life I would've been betrothed to Joffrey, she nearly shuddered at the idea. It was her betrothal with Domeric that shielded her from that fate. And there was no other man she wished to call her husband than him.
And soon I will, the reminder excited her. It was no longer years or months or even weeks. It was days.
"I sent the letters before we left."
She perked due to the importance of the reveal. "Who did you send them to?"
"I wrote to Houses Redfort, Royce, and Waynwood."
It was at the Battle of the Greenfork where Domeric had made a startling discovery:
The Lannisters had made an alliance with numerous mountain clans of the Vale. The lions gave them steel, horses, and the promise to grant them the Vale in return for their service. A promise she doubted the Lannisters were fully invested on giving, but nonetheless it could not be overlooked.
This was something they could not afford to ignore. Aunt Lysa remained stubborn and silent hiding within her mountain fortress. She returned none of their letters. Her father's lands were being burned. Her good brother was in chains. Her husband was likely killed by the Lions. Yet she did nothing to help them, to help her family.
She forgets her own family's words- Family, Duty, Honor.
Sansa could never imagine ignoring a call from Robb, or Bran, or Arya if they requested help. The thought of abandoning her family in a time of need made her sick.
With their Aunt continuing to ignore them, Domeric made what some had claimed to be a bold suggestion: He could write to some of the important houses in the Vale.
If the Vale finds out that the Lannisters are supplying the Mountain clans they'll be furious. They'll demand action.
Domeric had been confident. He had spent four years living with Lord Redfort and his sons. He had gotten to know several other houses, their lords and their families.
The suggestion seemed too good to ignore, but there was some hesitation because of what those letters could possibly do. It could stir the Vale into possibly rebelling against their own blood, in their Aunt Lysa. It could be seen as a threat to try to undermine their cousin's rule. That they were pushing the bannermen of the Vale into a possible revolt against their liege lord, where a civil war could erupt between the factions.
Sansa did not think it could come to that. She believed that her betrothed was right despite the perceived deviousness of his plan and what it could lead to. The Vale wants to fight. Can we ignore such a strong alliance because one person was wrongly standing in their way? She would not allow Lysa's idleness to threaten those that Sansa loved.
She had her chance, Sansa argued, when some remained undecided. She's proven to be unloyal and untrustworthy. She didn't think of Lysa as an aunt, but as an ally who was tied to the north and riverlands, but did nothing to help their cause.
Sansa felt no sympathy if Aunt Lysa was removed from her position. If anything, she'd welcome a change if it meant getting the Vale forces to join their cause.
She thought back to the words of her mother's family-Family, Duty, Honor.
For family, for their duty to one another, this was the right course, but honor?
There was little honor in what they were doing between the Vale bannermen and their current liege lord, Aunt Lysa. I will not call it honorable, but I will call it right.
"How do you think they'll respond?"
"Lords Royce and Redfort will be furious. They spoke often of Lord Stark. They respect him. I will not be surprised if even before my letter reaches them they've already considered joining the war against the Lannisters," Domeric paused. "I do not know Lady Waynwood as well, but she will not be pleased. The Lannisters threaten all of their lands with this. It should be seen as an act of war. The clans have been quarrelsome for years, and with the Lannisters backing them," He shook his head. "I do not think the Vale houses will sit idly by once it is known."
"Good," Sansa prayed that they'd join them. Since it would mean more forces which would mean more help for her brothers and Domeric for the battles to come.
With the mention of battle, she was reminded of a particular piece of gossip that she had heard back at Riverrun before their departure.
"There is word around the castle that you commissioned the blacksmith to make armor for Lady."
"I'm paying him to see if its possible." He looked out to where Lady was. "We armor our horses, why not the direwolf?" He shrugged. "I suppose it sounds silly."
"No," she interrupted, squeezing his arm. "It does not sound silly." She thought it was inspired, and also sweet that he was looking for ways to protect Lady. She said as much before kissing his cheek.
He smiled, looking relieved at her judgement. "I have the gold." He explained, "I thought why not invest some of it to see if it can be done." His smile turned into a smirk when he added. "If a direwolf was a fearsome sight on the battlefield imagine our enemies reaction when they see an armored one, charging them."
I won't have to imagine. She remembered the kills she made during the battle. She thought them strange dreams, visions from the Old Gods, blessing her, but now she knew it was her. Her and Lady together helping and protecting Domeric. A discovery I've yet to tell him about...
"Sansa?"
"Yes?"
"Are you well?" He took her silence as if something was troubling her. "Should we return to the castle?"
"No," she was touched by his concern. "I'm happy." She revealed, "So incredibly happy because in a few days, we will have Father back, Mother will be here and then," she paused. "We'll be married."
She felt his hand cup her cheek. She looked to see his warm brown eyes on her. "I count the hours until I can call you my wife." He kissed her forehead.
Soon, he will be my husband, and I his wife. Her heart was brimming with happiness.
"The Lannisters will concede," Domeric said confidently. "Everyday their position weakens. And when Renly's army starts to march. They will have to decide what is more important- fighting in the Riverlands or protecting the capital."
She had been thinking along similar lines. Knowing that such facts will be needed to take advantage of in the negotiations. Their pride will buckle. She took satisfaction at the Lannisters being humbled. They will realize their demands will not be met.
"A prisoner exchange may be all they can get," she voiced her opinion, "but if that means the return of Father in exchange for the Kingslayer then we should consider ourselves thankful and make it."
"Indeed," Domeric nodded. "How about there?"
She looked to see where Domeric was pointing. He had picked out a place beneath a looming, and old birch tree on the riverbanks. Its branches would provide them plenty of shade. It would have them close enough to the river's edge so they could feel the cool water if they so desired.
"It's perfect."
Domeric looked pleased it met with her approval. He then turned to the Stark men to inform them of their intentions.
Sansa had moved ahead to the spot they decided on. She felt the coolness of the shade instantly. She was pleased to feel the grass was dry as she sat down. She was uncaring of how the grass and mud would stick to her dress or how it could wrinkle. She smoothed it out after sitting, only to look up to see Domeric approaching her, and in his arms was his harp.
He was smiling when he neared. He must have read the surprise on her face. She had not seen him pack it and realized he had planned it that way.
"My lady," he strummed a few chords, a sweet noise followed suit. The beginning of a song that Sansa loved.
"Oh Dom," She greeted him with a kiss when he moved to sit beside her. Uncaring of their chaperones. Her heart fluttered when his lips met hers in a kiss that brought a tantalizing tremor beneath her skin.
He broke the kiss with a dazed smile. "I should surprise you more."
She felt her cheeks go warm, but she smiled along. "It is not a bad thing to spoil your wife."
"My wife," He repeated, still sounding a bit dazed.
Still smiling, she moved to lean on his shoulder. The soothing sound of the harp filled the air. She hummed along with it. Lady had moved to join them, curling up at her feet.
She prayed this moment would last forever.
"Why do you think he's called us back?"
Sansa had not been pleased by her brother's interruption. He had summoned them to return to the castle with all haste. "Do you think the Lannisters have agreed to terms?"
That will be the only acceptable reason. She had been so content there with him, his harp, and Lady. For it to end because of something trivial, she would make sure Robb knew of her displeasure.
Domeric's hand squeezed hers. "We will find out."
They entered her grandfather's solar to see Robb had already gathered a few others. Jon, Uncles Edmure, and Brynden, and Theon were all sitting around the table.
"Good," Robb looked pleased upon seeing them. "I'm sorry to have disturbed you, but this is important. We've received a messenger. "
"Is it the Lannisters?" Sansa took her seat with Domeric taking the one beside her.
"No," Robb shook his head. "It is something else. Or should I say someone else."
That was when a person she had never seen before stepped forward. A man with brown hair that was peppered with grey. It was the same with beard that covered his cheeks and chin. He was wearing plain clothes and black gloves. He looked like a merchant or a commoner, until she spotted a simple, but telling sigil stitched into his shirt. It was a black ship with an onion on its sails.
What a strange standard, she thought, but it seemed familiar to her.
"This is Ser Davos Seaworth," Robb introduced, "And he comes on behalf of Stannis Baratheon."
"I do," he bowed his head to her. "I've come seeking alliances for King Stannis' cause."
"King Stannis?" Domeric repeated, "How many more kings are going to crop up?"
Davos was undeterred. "Stannis is the true heir to the Iron Throne. He is the rightful king."
That didn't make any sense. The King had two sons that would inherit before Stannis. She felt her betrothed's eyes on her, looking to him to see the brief flicker of confusion that rested on his features before it became a mask once more.
"These are bold statements, Ser Davos," Ser Brynden put in gruffly. "I never thought Stannis a man of ambition, but this," He paused, shaking his head. "This reeks of it."
"It is not ambition, Ser," Davos corrected politely. "It is his by right."
"You claim he is king, but where is he?" Domeric challenged. "The Lannisters broke the king's peace and invaded the Riverlands, but I see no sign of this new king defending his people."
Davos frowned. "He has called his bannermen and is accepting their fealty."
"Bannermen?" Theon snorted, "How many does he have? Five?"
Robb sent his friend a reprimanding look before turning back to their guest. "You've come seeking allies, Ser Davos, but I cannot give you the north," Robb told him. "We will follow my Father. Once he is free from the Lannisters he will decide our cause."
"Lord Stark has already made his choice," Davos explained. "That's why I'm here."
"Lord Stark's declared for Stannis?" Uncle Edmure gaped. He was not alone in his surprise if this news was true.
"Our Father made no mention of any alliance with Stannis," Sansa observed, trying to recall any time Lord Stannis even came up in conversation when they were in King's Landing. She couldn't.
"He said nothing to me either," Jon added, who had stayed in the city after Sansa and Domeric had fled. Jon then turned to Ser Davos, realizing what they were implying of him. "With respect, ser. We do not mean to doubt you, but-"
"I understand," Davos didn't seemed bothered by their questioning. "I knew you'd need some proof," he then retrieved a rolled up piece of parchment from his pocket and handed it to Robb.
"This is my father's seal," Robb muttered in dismay.
"Aye, it is," Davos nodded. "He sent it to Stannis on Dragonstone when he was still serving as the King's Hand."
Robb quickly unfurled the letter and read it silently.
Sansa watched the color drain from her brother's face. "What does it say, Robb?"
"Robb?" Jon who was sitting beside him. "What is it?"
Their brother didn't answer instead he pushed the letter into Jon's hands.
Jon glanced down at its contents before his eyes shot up to the messenger. "This is-"
"It is." Davos confirmed grimly. "Lord Stark discovered the truth."
"What?" Sansa asked, biting back on the frustration and impatience that wanted to slip through. What was in that letter? She needed to know especially given the reaction it had gotten out of her brothers.
Robb remained pale and quiet. He looked to be in no mood to answer her questions or to reveal what Father had put in that letter.
Jon was shaking his head in disgust before he passed the letter to Uncle Edmure. "It's all here like Ser Davos said. It is written in Father's hand," Jon admitted, but he still looked to be grappling with what had been said. "He says that Robert Baratheon doesn't have any trueborn children."
"What are you on about, Snow?" Theon nearly laughed at the claim. "I know he's a little shit, but he's still the oaf's son."
Have they all lost their wits? Sansa didn't understand. "King Robert had two sons and a daughter."
"Father learned why Lord Arryn was killed. He found out the Lannister secret." Jon's grey eyes were solemn when he met hers. "The King's children aren't his. They're bastards born of incest. The Kingslayer is their father."
A/N: I'm not sure if its possible to armor a direwolf, but I thought it likely that someone like Domeric would at least look into it. This doesn't mean she's going to have any.
The Mountain clans are more a minor threat to the Vale, but I still believe they would not be pleased to learn that the Lannisters gave them steel, and horses and other goods. It's done in the books too, but I don't think its mentioned that Robb and them tried to use it to get the Vale to join their cause. So I thought I'd try to explore the possibility especially since Domeric spent time in the Vale.
In the prologue of "A Clash of Kings," it is revealed that Davos was in the Stormlands trying to recruit the stormlords to Stannis' cause. That would mean he did this during the ending events of "Game of Thrones".
So in this story, Stannis sends Davos to treat with Robb in the Riverlands instead, b/c The north has not declared Robb king, and Lord Stark is still alive, who supported Stannis' claim. Another small, but important ripple that happened in this story was that Ned was able to get his letter sent to Stannis unlike in the books.
I hope you enjoyed the chapter and will let me know what you think with a review.
Thank you for your continued support,
-Spectre4hire