The Pack Survives

by LordStark5

When winter comes, and cold winds rise, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives. The Starks find themselves scattered in the midst of the War of the Five Kings, but only through uneasy alliance with unnatural forces will they be able to ultimately change their fates and ensure that the pack will endure.

14. The Wounded Warrior

The Wounded Warrior

Melantha, Eddard and Theo ignored the blood as they pounced onto Robb. "Did you win?" Eddard asked curiously.

"We won," Robb assured him. We wouldn't be here if I hadn't.

"Father always wins," Melantha declared, looking at her brother like he was a fool to even ask such a question.

And I need to do a better job keeping you away from my bannermen. "Come on," he said, standing up again. "Let's go find somewhere in the castle."

Deep Den was certainly a unique castle. Like most castles of the West, it was built around its mines. However there was only an outer ringfort around the hill and otherwise the castle had been built into the hill, making it true to its name. It did feel as though it was a deep den. The castle was lacking in defenses from the west, which made it an easy castle to take for Robb and his host, made even easier by more than half the slim garrison pissing themselves and abandoning their posts at the sight of the host. Only six of the twenty men at arms in the garrison were slain, the rest taken captive, while Robb's host had not lost a single man. As far as he could tell, the only wound anyone had was his, and he had gotten that the night before.

A pair of freeriders must have gotten it into their heads that by killing Robb, Lord Tywin would grant them half the wealth in Casterly Rock. They had waited near Robb's tent and made an attempt on his life as he was retiring for the night after a brief meeting with his lords. Both men were slain, one having his throat ripped out by Grey Wind and the other being cut down by Robb, but the man he had slain was able to slash Robb across his unarmored chest and had given him a wound that had reopened during the battle.

Taking Deep Den wasn't a great victory. It wasn't another Whispering Wood or Camps or even Oxcross. Robb knew taking the castle didn't bring him any closer to winning the war, but he wanted to make some sort of show of force as he left the Westerlands, and leave knowing that Lord Tywin would need to spend far more men retaking his lands than he had needed to take them. Ashemark, Nunn's Deep, The Crag and Deep Den would all be held by his men. And if Robb wanted to, he would have at least one road secured into the West if he desired to return to campaign there again.

Robb led the children to the Great Hall, where it seemed most of the men were gathering. Tonight there would need to be a feast in celebration of the victory and they wouldn't be riding any further even though it was not even quite yet midday. The hall was much bigger than what Robb was expecting. Even though it was smaller than Winterfell's, the tables were much tighter and closer, allowing for it to hold almost a thousand.

"The King in the North!" the men started to cheer when Robb entered, loudly and repetitively, and at his side he could feel Theo nervously clutching his leg. Robb found himself wondering if when the boy was older and knew the truth of Myrcella's father if he would be made even more nervous about these men, and his looks.

Eddard and Melantha weren't as nervous, but even they seemed a little bothered by the shouting too. Joanna meanwhile must have been taken by her wetnurse to some private chamber.

Robb picked his younger son up and carried the boy in one arm while he made his way to the high table. He spotted Jeyne walking in a little later too, escorted by her brother, Ser Raynald, and uncle, Ser Rolph.

Jeyne had dressed simply as she had ever since they departed from the Crag. She wore her crown well enough that none could doubt she was a queen. The greater concern was of her family, as always, just as it must have been Myrcella's struggle. Robb's bannermen would always doubt her, no matter what she did, entirely on the basis of the actions of her mother and father. Some bowed for their queen as she made her way towards the high table, but for every bowed head, there were two more that remained up.

"Lord Lewys was a fool to leave so few men," Robb heard his uncle saying. "I would hardly even call what transpired today to be a battle."

He turned to see the Blackfish was standing behind him, having managed to sneak up on Robb without him noticing. "Aye," he said.

"Lord Lewys's maester isn't here. According to the steward, he is with Lord Tywin's host in the east."

That might have seemed a little odd to Robb, but he remembered that he had heard from somewhere Lord Tywin had brought two maesters with him from the west. He supposed it made sense that Lord Lewys's would have been one of them, and it certainly made more sense than the maester having somehow run away.

"Have you questioned the steward at all?" Robb had waited outside the castle for quite a while after the battle, so he figured his uncle must have had some time to do work within.

"Aye," Ser Brynden affirmed. "It seems Lord Lewys truly was foolish enough to leave such few men behind. The captain of the guard, Ser Roger of Sarsfield was one of those slain in battle."

"Ser Roger of Sarsfield?" Robb raised an eyebrow. He would have expected the captain of Lord Lydden's garrison to be from much closer lands than that.

"Seems that he came to Deep Den as a boy, but always called Roger of Sarsfield," his uncle explained.

"Do you trust the steward?"

"I don't see any reason not to on that matter. At most he's hiding some members of his lord's family."

"Aye." Robb had more than enough hostages as it was. The problem was he needed to be able to exchange and ransom those prisoners or figure out something else to do with them. "Let him have his secrets if he wants them. I don't care."

"Lord Lewys's children are gathered in the private audience chamber, when you wish to speak with them."

"I'll see to them shortly," Robb said. First he needed to speak with Jeyne. And address the crowd.

It did not take long for his wife to make it to the front of the hall. Her brother and uncle must have parted from her while Robb wasn't watching, as she was alone when she made it to him. "Congratulations on this most splendid victory, your grace," she said, bowing her head when she got to him.

Robb bid her to lift her head. "Thank you, my lady," he said. Something about calling her my lady bothered him. For years he and Myrcella had referred to one another as my lord and my lady for years without it ever feeling strange to him, but now those same formalities with Jeyne just didn't feel right. Being called your grace made him feel even stranger, but that was another matter entirely.

Jeyne gave him a gentle kiss on the lips. A sweet kiss. She wouldn't ever try to harm the children like her mother did, he thought to himself.

"Another great victory for the Young Wolf!" Robb heard a man in the crowd cheer over the loud chatter. Others cheered similar toasts, and reluctantly he was forced to turn away from his lady wife to address the men.

Standing by the high table, he raised his free hand to quiet the crowd. It took almost a minute, but the entire hall soon came down to a low murmur. Robb felt the stare of hundreds of eyes as everyone was looking at him, waiting to hear the words he would speak.

"Today was another great victory," he announced, his voice as loud as he could muster without a shout. He remembered his father having taught him for years to have a lordly voice, and how much he had practiced it. "Tonight we celebrate and rest, but on the morrow we continue our ride towards Riverrun."

"Aye!" the Greatjon boomed. "The King in the North!" The rest of the hall quickly took up the Greatjon's cheers, which Robb was grateful for as he stepped away. Soon they would begin drinking and feasting to another victory while he would be free to spend the night away.

"Come on," Robb said to Jeyne, as he started walking, putting the hand that was not holding Theo out to lead Eddard and Theo as they made their way out through the door behind the main dais out of the Hall.

Luckily, his great-uncle followed as well, and once they were through the door the steward was there waiting for him. "Y-y-your grace, will you be-"

"-Yes, I'll see your lord's children," he interrupted. "My great-uncle will come with me while you lead my wife and children to a room suitable for them. Find Joanna and her wetnurse too and bring them there." Robb handed Theo over to Jeyne who seemed a little disappointed that he would not be joining her right away. He gave his wife a kiss just as she had earlier, before he bent down to speak with Melantha and Eddard. "Be good for Jeyne," he whispered. "I'll be back with you before you know it."

"As you command, your grace," the steward said with a bow. "I shall do just that."

"Once they've been settled, come find us." The steward nodded, and without a word began to lead Jeyne and the children down the hall. Once they reached the end of it and turned around the corner, Robb and his uncle began to leave going the other way down the hall.

"We will need to be holding a council soon, your grace," the Blackfish said as they walked. "There are urgent tidings from the south."

"Tomorrow," Robb said. "We'll have a council tomorrow."

"Perhaps over supper…"

Robb shook his head. "I promised Jeyne I would eat with her and the children tonight, privately."

The Blackfish understood. "We should remain here tomorrow as well then. The men could use another day of rest. It would be unwise to march without a council meeting to discuss the tidings."

"Fine," Robb sighed. "Tell me what happened on the morrow." I owe tonight to my family.

"As you wish."

"What are their names? Lord Lydden's children? Myrcella told me about a handmaid she had while in King's Landing who was Lord Lydden's daughter… Lyanna?"

"Lynara," the Blackfish corrected, "she wed Lord Banefort's second son two years past according to the steward and dwells with him there."

"The others?"

"Lyessa is fifteen. Betrothed to one of Lord Lefford's sons. Leo is twelve, Lord Lydden's heir. And Leila is five."

"Perhaps the Leffords would be willing to pay a ransom for Lyessa too then," Robb suggested.

"Aye," the Blackfish agreed, "you mean to ransom them?"

Robb didn't know. "Maybe… Maybe not…"

"What would you do with them then?"

"If Lord Lydden should fall, his men would be bound to Leo. I could take him as a page or squire…"

Ser Brynden Tully raised an eyebrow. "You mean to try and bring another one of Lord Tywin's vassals to your cause?"

"Yes," Robb said. "I don't see why it's not worth trying. Deep Den would be easier to add to my kingdom than the Crag at least."

His uncle nodded, though his face conveyed neither approval or disapproval. "It might be worth the chance," was all he said.

"Even with all these victories… What chance do we have against the Lannisters now that they have the Tyrells and Martells?" Robb asked. "Renly is dead, Stannis is defeated and the Greyjoys turned against us. If only Aunt Lysa…" He felt so defeated now, even without having lost a battle. Maybe with Myrcella they could have made a peace, but that ship felt like it had sailed too. Father always knew what to do. He would have known what to do now.

"We're here," the Blackfish said with a grim face, stopping in front of a door.

"I'll speak with them alone," Robb said, before stepping in.

It seemed the room that they were being kept in was one of their bedchambers. The older girl who would have been Lyessa was sitting with the younger, Leila, in her lap on the bed while Leo was reading something while laying on the bed.

"A-a-are you the king?" Lyessa asked nervously when she saw him enter. "Is it true you mean to kill us and feed our bodies to wolves?"

"I am the king, yes, but I don't mean to hurt you," Robb answered. After closing the door behind him, he decided to take off his crown and set it down on the nearest table, and regretted the fact that he hadn't told Rollam to take his sword when he had changed out of his armor earlier.

"We're your prisoners, aren't we?" Leo sounded less confident than his sister did. "If you're not going to hurt us, we're still your prisoners."

"You are, yes," Robb nodded. There was no use in hiding the truth from them. "I won't have you in a dungeon or wearing irons, but soon my army will be marching from Deep Den, and you will travel with us."

"For how long?" Lyessa said. "Will we be able to see father soon?"

"I don't know," Robb sighed. "Perhaps your father or Lord Tywin will be able to come to an arrangement with me and you'll be returned to him safely."

"If not?"

"You'll continue to be my guests. Your letters will be read before they're sent and you won't be allowed to leave, but you'll have food and drink and some place to sleep at least. None will mistreat you." Robb paused for a moment. "If you would like, I can give you positions in my court."

"You could be a handmaiden for my wife, Lyessa, and you could serve as my squire, Leo," Robb offered.

"What about Leila?"

"How old are you," he asked the girl, even though he had already been told the answer.

"Five," she said, sounding both proud and nervous at the same time.

"My daughter Melantha is the same age," said Robb. "The only children she's had to play with are her brothers…" Melantha had seemed quite sad since coming to the Crag, not only missing home and Myrcella, but all her friends she had made too. It would be good for her to have another.

Lyessa spoke up. "Are we spending the night here? In this bedroom?"

"If you want your own bedchambers back, I'll order my men to vacate them if they're occupied," he offered.

"Leo will," Lyessa answered, "Leila usually sleeps with me."

"As you wish. Just tell the guards outside when you want to return to your bedchambers and they'll take you there. If you're hungry or need anything, let them know." Robb stood. "I'll speak with you again soon."

Lyessa gave a nod, while Robb began to walk out.

The Blackfish was waiting for him when he exited, and there were a pair of guards out there too, standing watch. Robb gave the guards their orders before he followed the Blackfish back to the main hall where they found the steward waiting.

"Your wife and children were settled in Lord Lewys's chambers, your grace, if you would have me take you to them."

"I would," Robb said immediately. He looked out over the hall where he saw that the feast must have already begun. The sun wouldn't be setting for at least another hour, but most in the hall already seemed quite drunk. "Take me to them."

The steward did as he was told, leading Robb out to a long corridor, and then up a spiraling stairway. At its end, Robb was a tall doorway that Owen Norrey and Dacey Mormont were standing by, and he didn't need the steward's gesturing to figure out that was his room. "Here they are, your grace. One of the few rooms that breaches the surface of the hill. I thought perhaps you and your queen might enjoy the view."

And the potential for us to be slain in the night. Robb didn't know for sure if this man was simply being generous or truly had a sinister plot, but Robb didn't want to find out. "Not here," he said, "we'll find somewhere else."

"Y-your grace, does the view not…"

Robb didn't say another word to the steward, but instead moved to the door that he couldn't hear anything coming from the other side of.

The door swung open, but inside nothing was amiss. It seemed that Jeyne had chosen to take a nap, with Theo and Eddard laying next to her on the bed, while Melantha was quietly reading and Joanna was sleeping peacefully in her cradle.

Distantly he was aware of Dacey and Owen following him into the bedchamber, while he began to study it. The bed was large and seemed quite comfortable. Perhaps this is Lord Lydden's bedroom, he thought to himself, and the banners and loose objects seemed to confirm his suspicion.

True to the steward's word, there was a window, though the curtains were covering it, keeping the room mostly dark while Melantha was reading by some candles.

But it wasn't just a window that led out. There was a window as well, a window that

The view outside was gorgeous, he could see the landscape around Deep Den for miles to the west, but he also noticed how easy it was to sneak up to. If an assassin were to climb up the hill, they could easily get up to the balcony.

"Is something amiss, your grace?" Dacey called from behind.

"We can't stay here," Robb answered, looking back, "not after what happened…" He thought back to Theo nearly eating the poisoned plum, and the assassin who had tried to kill him the night before.

Dacey seemed to understand, and she went over to Melantha. "Come on princess," she said softly, reaching her hand out to gently offer it, "we're going to move somewhere else."

Melantha looked up from her book. "I wanted to-"

"It's alright. We won't go far." Dacey took the book, carefully keeping it open to the page Melantha had been reading and then took the girl's hand as well. She whispered something to Joanna's wetnurse, who then began to start working on moving the cradle, then turned back to Melantha. "Let's go."

"Can you take the boys?" Robb asked Owen, looking at the bed. The young man gave a nod as Robb put his arms under Jeyne and scooped her up off the bed, trying to not disturb her sleep. He could feel the warmth of Jeyne's body as he held her.

His wife remained undisturbed as he carried her out of Lord Lydden's bedchamber, following Dacey and Melantha. They walked down the steps, with Dacey looking into each door that they passed through until she found a room she deemed to be satisfactory, and led Melantha inside of it.

It was much smaller than the room the steward had offered, but it had a pair of beds and other furnishings, with a hearth without a fire burning in it. But most importantly, it didn't have a window or some other entrance an assassin could sneak through.

Robb put Jeyne down on the bed and once Owen Norrey entered, he took Eddard and Theo and set them down on the bed too, tucking them in next to Jeyne.

Meanwhile Dacey and Owen both exited, leaving the room with only Melantha, the steward, Joanna and her wetnurse, Jeyne and the boys still asleep.

"Your grace, might I ask why you did not find Lord Lewys's bedchamber to be to your satisfaction?" the steward asked. "It is a fine view."

Robb unbuttoned his doublet enough to show the bandages on his chest. "This is why," he said.

"That w-wound, your grace. It seems most perilous. Was it dealt to you in battle?"

"No," Robb answered. "Someone attacked me last night, had his throat ripped out before he could tell us who had hired him."

"Are you a-accusing me?"

"Maybe you did hire the assassin. I won't hold a trial for you though or make a show of executing you, it all goes back to Lord Tywin anyway. It wasn't the first, and I'm sure it won't be the last. As long as we're safe for the night, no harm will come to you."

"P-perhaps I should leave."

"Indeed you should," said Robb, "have someone bring some firewood after you go."

"I-I will, yes." The steward bowed and left.

Robb sighed as the door closed and then went over to sit by Melantha.

They ended up staying at Deep Den for two full days, instead of leaving the next morning as Robb had initially announced. On the first night when he dreamt, he relived the attempt on his life from the nameless assassin that he would never know.

The next day brought a war council. His uncle had brought dire news.

House Tyrell had sent a portion of the army still positioned at Bitterbridge, at least ten thousand strong, north, marching into the Riverlands. Ser Edmure's Riverlander army still remained positioned near the castle, ready to face the oncoming foe, but all were in agreement that this new host, under the command of Ser Alladar Oakheart, the heir to Old Oak, and Lord Titus Peake, the Lord of Starpike.

Eventually, they came to an agreement that they ought to march at once, aiming to use their speed to take the Reacher host from the rear, scattering it before they would have to face the Riverlander forces. It would be risky, and their force would be heavily outnumbered, but they were battle tested and hardened, while the force they would be facing was unblooded.

When they finally departed from Deep Den, the army seemed to be much fresher, having been allowed two days of rest. They looped further south, following along the Golden Road, with his uncle and his scouts screening, allowing for their army to march as undetected as possible.

On the third day of marching, they came across signs of a host that had marched through several days prior, and at that point they began to follow the tracks, riding hard in pursuit of the army.

On the seventh day it seemed that they finally caught up, as they were about to reach the Stony Sept.

"The host isn't far ahead of us," his uncle said at the council that night. "They don't know we're pursuing them. They're prepared for the possibility of an attack from the north or the west, but not the south."

"How many do they have?" Robb asked. "How strong are they?"

"Twelve thousand. Almost entirely on foot."

"They'll have us more than two to one, almost three to one," Galbart Glover said. "I don't like this."

"What's our plan?" Lady Maege Mormont wondered. "How will we beat them?"

"We attack them," Lord Rickard said. "They'll flee once they've had just a taste of us."

"Tomorrow," Robb said, firmly. Luckily this would not be the first battle he and his men had fought near the Stony Sept, so he felt he already had a plan. "We'll attack from the south. We'll have archers positioned on the hill where we fought the first time and they'll set fire to some of their tents, just before dawn, when we'll come out of the woods and attack them. Uncle, you'll have command of the archers, and the Greatjon will command the Vanguard."

"Do you think this will yield a decisive victory?" Lord Galbart asked. "With how much they outnumber us, you can't surely hope to-"

"-I don't," Robb admitted. "We won't beat them in a single battle. Once we've scattered them, we'll have several more battles to fight. This will only be the first." Robb paused for a moment, considering if there were other possibilities before hardening his resolve. "You should return to your tents and rest. Tomorrow we'll march."

The council left as he commanded, though he suspected that fewer than half of them would sleep at all that night with how early they would need to wake. It had been a particularly short council, where others usually dragged on for hours, this one had only taken a few minutes.

When they were gone, he blew out the candles and laid down in his cot, with Grey Wind laying beside him. Jeyne and the children were staying in a different tent, one where they would remain while they marched and while the battle was fought.

He didn't expect to get much sleep, but to his surprise, dreams came almost instantly.

The next morning, he woke to young Rollam Westerling's voice. "Your grace, your grace, you must wake. The army is preparing to march."

Robb slowly sat up, looking at the boy's face for just a moment, about to ask what was going on, but he remembered. The battle, he thought to himself. "Help me get ready," he said, pointing at the armor.

Dutifully, Rollam helped Robb get into his armor, and ready for the battle, though when it was over he told the boy to go to where Jeyne was staying, and to remain with her until they had orders from him to go somewhere else. Whether it be coming to the newly set up camp in victory, or fleeing in defeat.

As he made his way out of the tent, he could hear the horn blowing. There was a full moon and it seemed to be descending as Robb found his horse and mounted it. Grey Wind was silent beside him.

Before long, the battle began. Robb's men had formed up just out of sight from the Lannister men, while a man reported from his great-uncle that he and the archers were in position and had gone the night undetected. He ordered the man to return with orders to begin firing on the Reacher camp.

When the first sounds of chaos began, they charged.

As they emerged into the clearing where Ser Alladar and Lord Titus's force was camped, several tents were on fire and the men seemed panicked.

Some had prepared themselves for battle, but many more were still unarmed and unarmored. Without any palisades or trenches dug around the camp, which was scattered around the entirety of the Stoney Sept, Robb's men were able to ride straight into the camp, where they began cutting down their foes in droves.

The battle began a disorderly mess, as Robb's men began to spread throughout the town and the camp around it. Bells and horns filled the air as Robb rode into the center of town, encountering a knight whose shield depicted nine green dots on the otherwise plain oak wood.

Their fight was brief, as Grey Wind frightened the knight's horse, causing it to throw the green dotted knight from his saddle. However, the knight did not yield after returning to his feet, and attempted to fight, even without his horse, but together Robb and Grey Wind easily killed him.

As more and more of his men began to ride into the town, they started to organize to enter the buildings, knowing there were likely to be many foes still inside. Robb participated in the storming of an inn, where inside a dozen Oakheart men were held up. In the brief skirmish, Robb's men came out victorious, with half their foes yielding and the other half being slain.

The battle was still raging outside as Robb made his way to the roof of the inn to get a look at the view around. Most of the tents around the sept were burning. Hundreds of men were fleeing the battle while Robb's men had clearly won the day.

This was too easy, he thought to himself, but he couldn't complain. Robb had been kept up at night wondering how he would be able to match the Lannister's numbers now that they had aligned with the Martells and Tyrells and defeated Stannis, but with a victory like this…

All he could hope was that a victory like this would give Lord Mace Tyrell a reason to give pause to his alliance with Lord Tywin.

The hours after the battle were a blur to Robb. At some point he spoke to Jeyne and saw that the children were being settled in a vacated inn. He spoke with his men throughout the night, seeing them erect shelters for men who had been taken captive, tending to the wounded, cleaning and setting up camp. He praised them for their valor in battle and thanked them, and even participated in some of their activities while being tailed by his companions.

His great-uncle reported that fewer than two hundred of their men were dead, while at least half their foes had been slain. A quarter had defected or surrendered and were now prisoners whilst the rest had fled.

Night soon settled in and Robb ate among his men and companions in the camp around the town. They seemed quite festive, and he tried to keep his sour mood to himself. We won a great victory today, he told himself over and over again.

After he was finished eating, they walked back to the center of town. As they went, he suddenly noticed a strange tower. The tallest building in all the Stoney Sept, but it had not been there the first time Robb had visited the town. A single torch burned high outside the tower to the left of the only visible window he could make out. It emitted a low-green glow, beckoning him, urging him forward. He sensed that he needed to give the tower a visit.

After a few more minutes, Robb paused. "Go on without me," he told his companions. "I have Grey Wind to keep me safe, that should suffice."

Hesitantly, they did as he asked, walking back towards the middle of the town, while Robb continued on his own with Grey Wind towards the mysterious tower. The mysterious aura of the tower only seemed to get stronger and more powerful. With each passing step it seemed to grow colder, until Robb found himself able to even see his own breath.

He wanted to turn back, to return to the center of the town with his companions, a sentiment he sensed he was sharing with Grey Wind, but almost as though in a trance, neither was able to. Nobody even seemed to notice them walking through the streets, continuing their activities without even looking or paying any mind as their king was walking past.

Robb was at the foot of the tower before he knew it. He knocked thrice, feeling a hollow ringing reverberating throughout the tower. Something powerful was stirring inside, coming closer to answer.

Nobody seemed to notice him, but he felt as though he was being watched. For just a moment he could have sworn a pair of green eyes in a bush, but when he blinked, they were gone.

The door opened, and a man stood before Robb. He wore a pair of spectacles unlike any Robb had seen before, with grey and blue robes, his sleeves much looser than they needed to be, similar to how maesters wore them, but it didn't seem as though there were any trinkets or letters within, nor did he wear a chain. In fact, there was no belt and certainly no weapons.

Long and slender, the man stood almost three full inches taller than Robb. He had long, oily, black hair that fell to his waist, and a clean shaven face. There was not a wrinkle or scar to be seen on the man that Robb could tell, save some strange marks around his neck, which looked like the marks of a noose. His lips were thin and small, just as his nose was. But most noteworthy was his eyes.

They were a very strange orange, unlike any eyes Robb had ever seen before. In fact, he had never seen anything with that sort of shade before. The closest thing they reminded him of were the eyes of the direwolves, but even then…

"It has been a long time since I have spoken to a king," the man said, "please forgive me if I forget my courtesies, your grace. I have the honor to be the mage Sarwyn. Once there was a time I might have introduced myself as being of the great city of Novigrad, though I would not call the city great anymore, nor have I visited the city in some time."

"A mage?" Robb had heard stories of King Stannis's red woman, who had slain King Renly and Ser Cortnay Penrose with blood magic. He'd heard stories of people who claimed to be witches and sorcerers too, but Maester Luwin had always told him those stories were farces. "Where is this city of Novigrad you claim to be from?"

"The same place as this tower," said Sarwyn, "it comes from a world you have never known, and I doubt you ever will."

"No it's not," Robb declared. "You're not from Westeros, but you're from somewhere in Essos. Your Novigrad isn't real, just a story you're making up to hide where you're really from."

"I'm afraid it's not," the claimed mage replied. "You know as well as I that this tower was not here before, and the villagers most certainly did not manage to construct this in the time you were gone with this war waging." He opened his arms and smiled. "I brought it here. Now come, allow us to speak within."

Robb looked over at Grey Wind and heard the wolf giving a very faint growl. Less than a second had passed before Robb had unsheathed his sword and brought it up to the man's scarred neck.

"Hm," Sarwyn said, "I would urge you to try, though I think it would be a waste of both our time." He raised his hand and put a single finger on Robb's sword, pushing it down, away from his throat. Despite Robb's resistance, it seemed almost effortless to him, as though Robb were trying to wrestle with the Greatjon. "Put away that sword of yours, and I will gift you with a better one. One truly worthy of a king." He started to walk into the tower, though paused when he didn't hear anyone following behind him. "Come," he said, this time his voice was more a command than a request.

There was no other choice but to follow. Robb stepped inside the round tower, finding inside was a spiral staircase at its center. He and Grey Wind walked onto the stairs, seeing the man who claimed to be a wizard standing a little further up the stairs.

Suddenly, he heard the door close behind them, and strange red lights behind them. "The door is locked, and I'm its key," he announced, "if you have any wish to leave this tower, you will follow."

Robb followed obediently, walking up the long spiraling stairs, never tiring despite the brisk pace they walked at and his heavy armor. As they walked he saw many doors just like the one he had come through, marked with runes that he didn't know how to read. They walked and walked, until finally the mage stopped at a door, and made some strange gestures with his hands to open the door.

"Go on," he said. "If I wanted you dead, you would already be so."

Once more he was forced to go in despite his better judgment. Grey Wind went first, and after them, Sarwyn came in, closing the door behind him, though Robb noted he did not seem to cast any spell this time, leaving the door free to open or close.

As he looked around, Robb found himself perplexed. This was his room. The one he had stayed in at Winterfell. The room's dimensions were the same, the location of the fireplace, the windows, the beds, the chairs, the cribs and dressers. Everything was where it was.

But it wasn't.

The sheets and furs were different, what he saw outside the window was not Winterfell, and all the smaller and simpler items were out of place. Myrcella's books were not on the table next to their bed as they usually were, and everything felt so cold.

On the wall was a portrait, but it wasn't any ordinary portrait. It was of him and Myrcella, and the children, with Grey Wind there too, the children seemingly just a little bit older, with him and Myrcella wearing crowns together. And it was not art as Robb had traditionally seen, a drawing or painting, but almost like looking into a mirror.

Next to the picture hung a sword. Just like Sarwyn's eyes, it was unlike anything he had ever seen before. It had dark ripples, like Valyrian steel, but it had amethyst runes that seemed to give the blade a powerful aura, just like the tower and the mage did. It reminded Robb of Lord Yohn Royce's armor, engraved with hundreds of ancient ruins in an old language that not a man alive knew how to read. The blade made him think of Dawn, the ancestral sword of House Dayne, that was said to have been forged from a fallen meteor.

"It's yours, your grace," he heard the man say behind him. "Wolfsbane, the sword is called. A sword worthy of you and your sons, that might be passed to their sons and those sons' sons after. A true ancestral blade for your house."

"Ice…" Robb thought of his father's ancestral greatsword. One of countless things he had sworn he would win back, but had of yet still not been returned.

"Has been melted down and reforged by the Lannisters into two new swords they call their own. That blade is no more."

Robb looked back at the blade hanging from the wall, then reached up to grab it. Turning back to the mage, who was now sitting down, he only had one question. "Why?"

"I see far and wide, your grace. I have visited many lands and worlds, and seen many years despite my appearance," the sorcerer began. "My powers are great, but they have their limitations. I cannot stray far from this tower, even if I can see a good deal further in any world but the one my Novigrad is from. To create a gateway… I require several centuries afterward to make another, and even then, most worlds are only capable of housing two or three at most."

Get to the point. "What does this have to do with me?"

"Patience would serve you well, your grace," the mage said with a chuckle. "This world's time is strange. It has been tampered with many times, and now there seems to be another tampering with it, opening the world to its past and its future. You will certainly not find me to be the only one who has come or returned to this world now." Sarwyn sighed. "This tower is a prison. My exile. I've toiled here for too long."

"You want me to free you?"

"Yes and no. To be blunt, it is not you who interests me so much as your wife," Sarwyn answered. "Myrcella, not Elinor or Jeyne," he clarified.

"What about her? S-she's dead."

"She is not," he told her. "I see far and wide. I could tell you where she is right now even, perhaps even show you her, though I could not take you to her or bring you to her."

Robb was confused. "Myrcella is alive?"

"No," he said, "nor does she interest me as much as she used to, since the day you took her virginity." Sarwyn gave another sigh. "Myrcella had much potential, though I cannot stray much further than this sept, and my only other gateway is in the ruins where Old Valyria once reigned. Once this was a place of power too, though no more." He shook his head. "There is power in Myrcella's blood, the power I require. The same power that runs through her sister's veins, and her mother's and grandmother's. But none of them ever came so close as to ever contact me, at least not before they wed and sacrificed their maidenheads to other men."

"You want to kill me then, is that it?" Robb asked. "This sword… It's to make it a fight."

"I have no wish to kill you, your grace." Sarwyn frowned. "It is your little one that I require. The princess."

"What do you want with her?" Robb could feel the room calming him almost, quelling his anger. Under normal circumstances, he certainly wouldn't have asked like that.

"It is her power that I want," he said. "I see the girl for what she is, what she can become. With her power bound to mine, I would be able to escape this prison."

"Bound to you?"

"The line of Lady Rohanne Webber is a powerful one. I do not know what world she came from, but the true Lady Rohanne died in the cradle, and was replaced by the one who would be known as the Red Widow." Sarwyn paused for a moment. "The blood has been best preserved through the line of Lord Tywin and Lady Joanna, strengthening even within their offspring. But their powers become binded with the one who deflowers them."

"Why wouldn't you steal Joanna then?" Robb still didn't understand why Sarwyn had bothered even doing this, when he could have just as easily used his powers to sneak into his camp and steal Joanna out from under his nose.

"My curse is to only be able to take what is given," he said. "I may coerce, but I cannot take without consent. I require yours. Promise me the girl's hand in marriage."

"No," Robb said without a second thought. "I won't."

"You will have her for a time, though with your word, her fate would be entwined with mine. I will not have her until she is ah… Suitable…"

"No, no, no." He grabbed the sword. "You won't-"

"-You will be trapped here, forever, if you kill me now, your grace. That is if you kill me, which you won't. You'll have nothing but that painting to keep you company, and doors that will never open. This tower will become your prison as it is mine, though you will not even have the strength to take the small modicum of freedom that it allows."

"No," he said again. The gods only knew what power this mage would do with his freedom. Robb raised Wolfsbane, which felt almost weightless in his hands, and began to rush at the sorcerer.

He brought it down in a savage arc, trying to split the man in two, but just as with his plain castle forged sword, the sword seemed to be stopped by some invisible force. The ruins on the blade were glowing more intensely than before, illuminating the whole room, while there was an orange glow where the sword and the invisible shield met.

"Metal of any kind won't serve you well. Not against me anyway," he said, punching Robb in the gut.

The blow was hard and knocked the wind out of Robb, causing him to fall to the ground.

Sarwyn stepped forward. "You'll die like any man, pup," he taunted. "All you kings claim to be chosen by gods, when it is the very magicians you oppress who are."

Robb felt himself cough up blood. Next to his hand was Wolfsbane, while his sword from Winterfell had completely disappeared from its scabbard. Desperately, Robb swung the magical blade at the man's ankles, but again it failed.

The mage bent over Robb and punched him again, this time in the chest. Another punch, and then another, while he was powerless to fight back.

"It needn't be this way, if you would just say the words," said the mage again, pausing for just a moment.

"N-no," Robb said again. He would die before he allowed Sarwyn to get his hands on Joanna. "Never."

Sarwyn grabbed Robb, dragging him over towards the bed.

"Leave him be." A woman's voice said, causing the mage to suddenly stop. Her voice was as soft as a summer's rain. Very much like Myrcella's, though not exactly the same, and most glaringly having a different accent.

Robb weakly turned his head to look over. The woman was standing in the door, her hand projecting fire, with Grey Wind standing by her side. She was beautiful, with bright auburn red curls and eyes as green as emeralds.

The fight passed like a blur, with Robb not able to follow what was happening. Many flashes of light seemed to shoot at one another, runes and spells were being cast, but Robb could barely see any of it.

Only instinctively was Robb able to keep track of where the two combatants were, and which was which. I have to help her, he resolved, gathering what strength he had to rise on his own power, his chest and stomach burning with pain. There was blood smattered on his doublet that he had no doubt was coughed up by him.

Silently, he staggered, making his way towards Sarwyn, who didn't seem to be paying him any mind. Robb was able to get behind the man without any trouble, where he spotted a dagger on the man's waist that hadn't been there before.

Perhaps… he thought silently, in a swift motion reaching for the dagger before the mage could react, pulling it and then stabbing it into his back.

Sarwyn gave a scream of pain, and Robb twisted the blade and then pulled it out. The wound was smoking, and the man's blood began to flow.

Robb backed away without a second thought, as the woman continued casting her spells, now with a much greater effect, as the man fell to his knees in pain. "Again, father," the woman said, "do it again."

Father? Robb didn't have time to think about the woman's words. His strength had been returning to him, and now he was able to rush at the mage, and this time pushed the blade deep into the man's shoulder, creating another wound, while the mage was powerless to defend himself from both Robb and the sorceress.

Weakly the man tried to grab Robb's arm, but Robb just grabbed his arm instead and twisted it, breaking the bones which snapped much more easily than he thought they had any right to.

Sarwyn fell forward, howling in pain, no longer casting spells or trying to defend himself, and Robb knelt down next to the man, putting a hand on the man's hair and pulling his head up, to cut his throat. Blood began to flow swiftly from the wound, while the sorcerer went limp, his body sinking, and resisting no more.

Robb let go of the man's hair, the lifeless corpse falling back to the ground, while he turned his attention to the one who saved him.

"Y-your grace," the young woman said. "I-it is my honor to meet you."

And who might you be? Robb already knew the answer. He saw it in the girl's eyes. "Joanna?"

She nodded. "Y-yes, father," her voice sounded very nervous. "I'm Joanna."

"How are you… How are you here?" What happened to the babe in my camp? "What happened to you?"

"He took me when I was young," she said, "from mother. He had me raised in another world, where I wouldn't be able to stray far, and then when I came of age…"

Robb gave a nod to indicate he understood.

"I resisted though. That's why he wanted you to promise me to him. N-not me me, but the other me, the one in your host. If you promised her to him, she wouldn't be able to resist him like I did."

"How are there…" his voice faltered. Robb found a million questions racing through his head, none of which he had the faintest idea what the answer was.

"Two of me?" Joanna gave a sigh. "Sarwyn said that time in this world, the one we're from, it doesn't work properly. Someone keeps going back in time and changing things, creating a new timeline, but he didn't say who. He stole me in a previous one, but he didn't in this one."

"How come you're…"

"He gave me over to some witches in a different world, one where it's time doesn't keep being reset… Had me grow older there."

"Oh," from the sound of it, Robb gathered Joanna didn't want to talk more about it. "You don't need to tell me about it, not unless you wish to."

She gave another nod. "I-I'm not really your daughter. I'm not your Joanna."

"What happened to your father?"

"He was murdered, I think. I-I was never really told much about what happened, and I was too young to remember anything before Sarwyn took me. If he wasn't killed, it doesn't matter anyway, that world doesn't exist anymore. My mother was killed too… She was burned alive."

"How did you escape?"

"It wasn't hard," she admitted. "He wants my power for a reason, and this tower is infinite. Hiding from him is the easy part…"

"And now he's dead," Robb finished. "What do we do now? Was he lying about there being no way out?"

"He wasn't lying. You'll never get out on your own, you'll be trapped in here. I can get you out."

Was he lying about Myrcella being alive too? "And what about you?"

"I can't," she said. "I can't leave here. Sarwyn's curse is mine too."

"Have you tried?" Robb asked.

Immediately he regretted asking that question. "Of course I've tried," she said, her temper flaring just a little. "I've tried more times than I can count." A tear was starting to form in her emerald eyes. "I-I'm sorry…"

Robb stepped forward, and raised his hand up to Joanna's cheek. She looked so much like her mother, yet it was clear how different they were too. "I-I'm sorry I didn't find you sooner," he said. "I'll stay here with you."

"You can't. They need you," she said, pointing up at the portrait of their family on the wall. "You have to return back to your camp."

"I can't leave you-"

"-You can, father. You must." Her voice was wavering, but she still remained certain. "I'll do what I can to help you, but you can't help me."

"I can…"

"The sorceresses that raised me… One of them told me about you, how you would help me rise up against Sarwyn. She said you would free me, but not on our first meeting. S-she said there would be a cost. One that can't be paid yet."

"A cost?" Robb didn't like the sound of that.

"Some toll… She never said what. And that you wouldn't be ready to help me. You're not strong enough yet." A tear glistened in Joanna's bright green eyes. "I-I want to be freed, but I'll wait. When you're strong enough, I'll make sure you know."

Robb could feel his desire to return back to the town outside and leave the tower. Something must have been amplifying it while simultaneously suppressing his desire to help Joanna, but he wasn't aware of it. "I'll go," he said at last.

"Good," Joanna replied. "Come on."

Before Robb knew it, she was leading him out of the room and they were descending the tower again. Time seemed to pass without him noticing, and everything seemed to blend together. Eventually, Joanna stopped at a door that seemed like any other, and gently brushed the ruins engraved on it.

The door opened, revealing the entrance area that Robb was first brought into. "Your sister is here in the town," Joanna said. "She's being kept in one of the whore houses. Find her before going back to Jeyne."

The whore houses? Robb didn't have time to ask for details when the door started to open.

"Go," Joanna said, her voice a powerful command, and immediately Robb obeyed.

He heard the door close behind him, but when he looked back, the tower was gone. In his scabbard, hanging from his belt was the new sword the mage had tried to offer him, Wolfsbane, rather than the sword he had tried to bring in with him, and now Robb felt completely lost. Grey Wind was there too, though Robb hadn't the slightest memory where the wolf had gone between when they had gone to that room and now.

My sister is here. Robb could only imagine that Arya would have been able to run away from King's Landing like that, and the letters that the Lannisters had sent only ever mentioned Sansa. The thought of finding his sister at thirteen serving as a whore in one of the brothels of the Stoney Sept gave him a shudder.

"Go to Jeyne," Robb ordered the wolf. Thankfully, he was dressed plainly and had a bag that he was able to tuck his crown away in. If he was going to find Arya here, he needed to be able to go undetected.

The wolf did as he was told, and now Robb found himself alone on the southern edge of the town. He felt quite aware now of just how overfull the entire town was. How could I ever hope to find Arya here?

He walked past several houses that were being used as infirmaries, and spotted some areas where men were being buried in mass graves. To the outside, men were drinking and jesting in the camp that had been erected after the battle was won. If Arya really was serving as a whore at some brothel, then he wondered how he would be able to find her if she was servicing some man out in that camp.

Joanna told me to find her now. In one of the whore houses.

The first whore he encountered came to him. She was a brown haired wench, half-stumbling from too much wine, walking the streets, scantily clad and barefoot with a plain face. "Perhaps you would like a night with the famed Shaena of Stony Sept?" she asked, somehow not slurring her words as she put a hand on his chest. "I'll make it a night you won't forget."

"No," Robb admitted.

"Even the maiden herself isn't so fair as me. Me mum was a septa till I was put in her belly. Always said she was made for better than worshipin' some homely goddess."

Robb moved past her, spotting the brothel she must have come from. The House of Lilys it was called. It seemed to have three levels judging by the windows, and was quite big compared to what few brothels Robb had ever come across.

When he stepped into the establishment, he was surprised by just how empty it was. "How might I be able to service you?" a voice called to him, as he stepped in. "Perhaps there's someone you're looking for?"

He turned to see who he guessed was the lady who ran the whorehouse. The woman was almost forty it seemed, her hair blond with a little grey mixed in. She was great with child too. "As it happens, I am," he said. "Looking if my sister is here."

"If your sister is here, you're not like to get her back," the woman said with a chuckle, "most my girls are out in that camp, but you're free to see the ones that are here. Maybe even Lucinda would agree to a night with you, since you're handsome enough."

"Lucinda?"

"My prettiest girl. She's on the top floor. Picky about the men she takes though. Hasn't had anyone tonight to my knowledge." The lady gave a sigh. "You do have coin on you, do you not?"

Robb fumbled in his pockets, and found a small pouch of silvers. "I do."

"Good. I remember the night after the Battle of the Bells well enough. Not a man paid me for my services that day."

"I won't be needing services tonight," Robb said. "I'm just here for my sister."

"Best don't tell the girls that. They don't like a man who only come to look at them." The woman paused. "Your sister, how old is she?"

"Thirteen now, I suppose." Robb wasn't quite sure if that was correct. "You have girls that young?"

"Some of the girls have children who live here," the lady of the establishment said. "Youngest girls I have here though are Lucinda who is fifteen, and Lyla. Lyla's thirteen now, but she's always lived here."

"Has Lucinda ever told you where she's from?"

The woman frowned. "Not that I can recall… She said her mother was from around Riverrun though…"

Riverrun? "I'll have a word with her." Robb didn't think Arya could easily pass for a girl two years older than she was, but it was worth investigating. "Could you lead me to her?"

"No," she said with a sigh. "By rights I should be resting now, but someone needs to run things on a night like this. I would if my feet didn't-"

"-I understand." He still remembered carrying Myrcella to bed several times when she was heavy with child, since she was too tired and sore to get there on her own.

"The second room to your left once you reach the top of the stairs."

"Aye," he answered.

Robb's audience with the lady of the establishment was done, and now all he could do was find Lucinda. He was quite overpowered by the scent of perfume in the air as he walked over to the stairs at the edge of the common room, and then made his way up. The second floor seemed a little busier, and he could hear multiple couples making love, but the third floor was quite quiet.

The layout of the third floor was more open than Robb expected, with it almost having a common area of its own just like the first floor. It wasn't difficult to see what the woman meant though, when she said the second door to the left, and he went over and gave a knock on the door.

"Come in," a soft voice called.

Robb opened the door. The smell of lavender filled the air within, and by the window he spotted Lucinda, sitting up against the window, looking out over the edge of the town and the camp beyond. "I hope Hebba told you I don't just take anyone," she said without even turning. "I've already had to turn away three men today. Try not to make yourself the fourth."

Right away, Robb knew that this girl wasn't his sister. Her hair was a very dirty blond, and she wore loose silks leaving a good deal of her body exposed.

"I was just-" Robb wasn't sure how to finish the sentence.

"Wanting some place to get a good view?" Lucinda turned, studying him. "Hmmm. You seem familiar."

And I haven't the faintest clue who you are. "I'm from Winterfell," he said.

"Well of course you are," she said. "You wolves have been through here once before already, were you not."

"I'm sure you glimpsed me as I passed."

"Yes… Oh yes… I remember now." Lucinda gave a grin. "Sit down your grace. Please, make yourself welcome here."

"I should go," Robb said. "My wife-"

"-Isn't here," Lucinda finished. "Tell me why you tried to sneak anonymously into a whore house and chose the girl who you would have been told was the prettiest of the establishment?"

"I'm looking for my sister," Robb answered. "Her name is Arya. I was told she might be in a brothel here, in the Stoney Sept."

"A princess here? It's the Peach you're looking for. A girl there named Bella claims she's the daughter of a king."

"My father wasn't a king," he reminded her. "How old is Bella?"

"Eighteen I think… The king she claims to be the daughter of is King Robert."

My wife was the daughter of King Robert. Or at least, she was. "Where is she?"

"The Peach," Lucinda answered quickly. "She's probably already with some man for the night though."

"I need to start somewhere, looking for my sister," Robb said. "Can you take me there?"

"No," Lucinda was firm.

Robb's hand went to the small pouch of silver at his side. "It's yours if you help me."

The girl's brown eyes widened. "Fine… Just give me a few minutes to dress myself."

"As you will," he said. "I'll be waiting outside with the purse when you're ready."

Robb stepped out of Lucinda's room, and found himself a seat on one of the couches in the common area outside. Thankfully, no one else was out there to ask him anything, which meant he just had to wait silently. He found himself thinking about the Mage, wondering if what the man had said was true about Myrcella's power, and more importantly, how it could be true. Myrcella had never cast any spells or made things move without touching them. She never showed any signs of powers like what the older Joanna had done. He wanted to believe it was all just some mistake, but he knew he wasn't. Myrcella will haunt me until the day I die, just like Elinor.

Something about this place reminded him of Elinor. Perhaps it was the smell of perfume that she always wore that the brothel seemed to share. He remembered holding her hand as she was taking her last rugged breaths, her face covered with sweat and tears, the life slowly draining from her eyes as she breathed for the last time. After some time, Maester Luwin and his father had pulled him away from the bed, leading him to his own bedchambers, and the maester having him drink dreamwine to put him to sleep.

The next morning had been a blur. It had been Jon who was there when he had woken, offering to take him to Melantha. He had insisted on holding the squalling babe and managed to soothe the girl to sleep after she was given to him by the wet nurse. He had remained with his daughter the whole day, only taking breaks from holding her when he had to and fell asleep with her in his arms in her nursery.

On the day after, Robb forced himself to face his family as well as Myrcella. She was breaking her fast in the Great Hall with Jon, Sansa, Arya and Bran, and rose to hug him as he entered. He knew he needed to apologize, but he couldn't muster up the words. It was Myrcella who ended up saying she was sorry instead, before asking how Melantha was.

After breakfast, Myrcella told him they ought to find his father so they could speak with him. Robb followed her as they ended up finding him in his solar, talking with Maester Luwin, discussing plans to send Myrcella back to King's Landing. Robb had only listened as she pleaded with Lord Eddard, begging him to let her stay. 'Please my lord, I want to be Robb's wife, I don't want my father to marry me to someone else. I promise I'll be a good wife… a good Lady of Winterfell.'

Robb's father gave a sad smile. 'I'm sorry princess, but it is not just about your will… If your mother and father demand your return, and an end to the betrothal…'

Myrcella had tried urging them not to write to King's Landing, though both Lord Eddard and Maester Luwin had told her that simply wouldn't work. Word would eventually reach there, whether it be from the spider's whispers or a letter from Lord Walder Frey to the Grand Maester. She left, sobbing, leaving Robb to face his father alone.

When they were done, Robb ended up finding Myrcella at Melantha's nursery, singing softly to the infant while rocking her in the rocking chair. Her eyes had still been red from crying. And that night, he fell asleep in the nursery again, this time sitting next to Myrcella who was holding Melantha.

On the third day, Elinor was finally buried.

The door opened and Lucinda emerged. She wore a black gown with her hood pulled up to cover her face. Like this, she looked like just any other woman.

"Come on then, let's go," she said, urging Robb to stand up.

Robb stood, and let Lucinda lead. They walked down the stairs and exited the House of Lilys to find themselves on the street which looked roudier than he remembered it was before. Half a dozen men were gathered near the door to the brothel, and several other smaller groups could be seen on the street as well.

"Oi, you there," one of the men called. "Where do you think you're going with a wench like that?"

Robb felt himself going red. These men would leave him alone if they knew who he was, but if they knew who he was, word of this would start spreading like wildfire.

Lucinda seemed to be a quicker thinker. "Leave us be," she demanded. "You wolves defeated some lions and now I'm not allowed to walk with my husband?"

"Out a brothel, eh?" another man retorted, drunkenly laughing. "He's no husband to you, you're just his whore for the night. What you say to a night with us instead?"

"We enjoy whores together," Lucinda declared, "now let us have our fun."

Robb's fingers were itching towards the sword at his scabbard. A fight would certainly end badly here, but if they didn't back off…

"Just a kiss from you, m'lady," the first man said, "just one and we'll leave you be then."

"Fine," Lucinda huffed. "Just one."

He watched as the whore stepped over towards the drunken man. His hands were now firmly grasping the hilt of the new magical sword he had taken from the wizard. She stood on her tippie toes and put a kiss on his cheek, then quickly turned away. Robb anticipated that they would try to do something, but they didn't. They just allowed her to walk back over to him.

"Come, husband," Lucinda said, "let's go." She took his hand and together they began to walk away.

It seemed to Robb that they were just wandering the town. He didn't have the slightest idea where the Peach was and it seemed Lucinda didn't quite know her way around the area as much as he had initially thought. They passed at least two other brothels on their way to the Peach, which as it turned out was in the main market square.

"Here we are. The Peach." It was certainly the best looking establishment in the town, and even from outside it was obvious there were many patrons. It had a wooden sign depicting a peach hanging from above the front door, and in the alleyway between the brothel and the inn next door he spotted a patron and a whore who were loudly fucking for all the world to both see and hear. "Gross," he heard Lucinda mutter in disgust.

They entered the inn, where the common room was bigger than that of Lucinda's brothel. At least a dozen patrons were there, some sitting on cushioned couches, others talking to each other, drinking or eating. He spotted three girls there, two who were talking with the men and the third who was sitting on the couch, eating a handful of grapes. And there was a singer singing a song that Robb didn't recognize.

Lucinda walked over to one of the men, a clean shaven man who must have been around thirty, who on another day might have been unremarkable, but here seemed out of place next to all the soldiers. "Might we be allowed to have the night with Bella?" she asked the man.

The man raised an eyebrow. "Both of you?"

"Yes," Lucinda answered, "can we?"

"I'm sure Bella has already laid with a score of men tonight, if she isn't with one right now. She'll be in her room though."

"Thank you," said Lucinda. Then she began to walk over to the edge of the common room, forcing Robb to follow, then leading him up the stairs. On the second floor, she stopped in front of a door, the fourth one to the right, and knocked. The door appeared not to be locked though as it opened slightly just from that, and so Robb and Lucinda both stepped in.

"Welcome," said a black haired girl of eighteen sitting on the bed. Her eyes were a very deep blue, with a strong, square jaw. King Robert Baratheon's daughter indeed, Robb thought with horror. He didn't want to be here anymore, most certainly didn't want to speak with this Bella, but he knew he had to. Her eyes widened as she caught a glimpse of the two of them walking in. "A man and a woman," she said, intrigued.

Lucinda pulled down her hood. "We're looking for someone, Bella."

"You sure you aren't looking for me? I'll give you bells a good ring if you've got the coin…"

"I'm here for my sister," Robb announced. "I was told to look in the brothels to find her."

"Your sister?"

"Brown hair and grey eyes, short and skinny, thirteen or near enough," said Robb. "Have you seen anyone like that?"

"As it happens I have," she said with a grin. "Girl was here some days ago, traveling with those boys from the Brotherhood. Said they were taking her to the Lightning Lord and they found some other prisoner the next day after that who they left with."

"The Brotherhood Without Banners?" Robb was confused. He supposed it made sense she would have ended up with outlaws if she had run away, but it still perplexed him. "Where did they take her?"

"Don't know, they said she was worth a good ransom though," Bella said sadly. "That sound like your sister?"

It does if they know who she is. "Maybe," he said instead. "Thank you."

Robb started to back out, though Lucinda grabbed his hand. "I… I need you to take me back to…"

"Oh," he said. "Of course."

Bella looked at them with disappointment. "You won't be-"

"No," Robb said, shaking his head. He found a second purse of silver in his pocket that he took out and tossed towards her. "Thank you for your help."

The walk back to the House of Lilys was shorter than he expected. On the way, Lucinda remained silent, holding his hand while thankfully nobody dared to challenge them as they went. When they made it back to the brothel, they parted ways. "Perhaps you could pay me a visit some time," Lucinda suggested.

"Perhaps," Robb agreed, "I could find some place for you in my court if you don't wish to be here anymore…" He wouldn't get some great lord who would be willing to marry a woman who had once been a whore, pretty as she was, but he could find her some place in his household, and wealth, and in time she could have a family of her own that could rise even higher.

"Are you offering-"

"-A debt of gratitude, not as a paramour," he clarified.

"I'll think about it."

Author Notes:

Hey!

It's been a little while. Writing has been a struggle for me these past few months, as well… let's just say life sucks. It sucks a lot. Things are starting to… I guess… fall into place, even if they are hardly ideal, so um… just bear with me. And sorry if the chapter feels like a bit of a mess as it just kinda got out of hand and eventually I just wanted to finish it up as soon as I could.

What I will say is that I do have five finished unpublished chapters that will need to be touched up a little, written (though they're pretty scattered and none are immediately coming out) as well as several more that I have pretty damn good starts on.

But um… Just make sure to give the people you love a hug, since we don't all get to do that, and it really sucks when you can't…

Anyway, here's an awkward transition so uh… I guess I should touch up on Witcher canon here.

With regards to how the Witcher canon fits in with all of this, basically, it's following book canon (minus epilogue stuff that ends up not really fitting here, as well as some alterations to the lore that may come up later down the line, or ones we've seen like Sarwyn who just isn't a thing at all in the books though theoretically could have existed since he existed well before the main story and was both banished and stricken from all history and records). This doesn't follow the game canon, however some quests and plot developments (particularly the political ones) will show up, but we'll be following the characters through them or there will be text that addresses it. So don't sweat it.

And for those who haven't read the books or played the games… Feel free to let me know if you're feeling confused about things (and vice versa if you haven't read the ASOIAF books or watched Game of Thrones) because I am very happy to answer any and all questions or add additional information about the lore and characters you may feel is missing.

I hope you guys liked the chapter, and as always, thank you so very much for all taking the time to read this.