Brandon Stark came howling into King's Landing with a dozen or so equally passionate friends at his back, after his lost sister.
Robarra had to admire his nerve, and if she was honest was rather glad that someone was here who had the guts do something about the grave insult done to both House Stark and House Baratheon. She didn't dwell much on the specifics, but in her head Brandon's arrival would force Aerys to send out men searching for Rhaegar, bringing him back to the city with his tail between his legs for her to berate in front of the whole court. And Lyanna would be safe too, of course.
Her (perhaps rather foolish) hopes were dashed quickly, however. The moment she heard of Stark's arrival in the Red Keep, she raced down to the courtyard, just in time to hear Brandon damn himself.
"Rhaegar Targaryen, come out and die," He shouted up at the keep, not caring for the servants, guardsmen and several nobles who had all heard, and stopped dead at his words. The whole courtyard went deathly silent, ringing with the force and inevitable consequences of his words.
Even she could see that his plan wasn't quite watertight. A reasonable and just king could not let such a public threat stand; as it was, they had Aerys, whose reaction would be so much worse. Whilst Robarra was angry enough at her husband to share Brandon's sentiment, and would ordinarily have laughed at such a thing, she could not let Ned's brother get himself killed.
"Stark," She lifted her skirts and ran over to him. "He's not here! Shut your thrice-damned mouth - Ned would never forgive me if your head ended up on a pike,"
There was no trace of the laughing young man who she had met at Harrenhal as Brandon rounded on her. He grabbed her arm roughly, no trace of warmth in his eyes, only a fury that seemed just as powerful as any Baratheon's, but sharper, colder and with more teeth. This was the wild wolf of Winterfell that people spoke of.
She had only seen Ned's eyes look that way once before, when he had come across one of Lord Jon's household knights getting far too familiar with her in a deserted corridor during a feast where she had drunk rather too much. Her friend was not a violent man, and had not resorted to violence then, only a cold, sharp tone and stare to match which had the man backing off immediately. Robarra's memory of the encounter was hazy, but she remembered that stare. It was hard to forget.
"Are you lying?" Brandon snarled at her, grip so tight it would no doubt leave bruises. "Has that silver-haired wretch sent his wife out to beg for him? The wife he scorned for her brother's betrothed, no less,"
"My good-for-nothing husband left months ago," She didn't lose her temper at him in response to his unseemly treatment of her, not especially bothered, though scowled at the reminder of Rhaegar's action. Robarra was no delicate flower, and knew she would be just as angry if someone had kidnapped Stannis or Renly. "Trust me, if he dared show his face here, the whole city would have heard me welcome him home,"
Another time Brandon might have laughed at that, but this time Ned's brother just let her go, eyes dark.
"Where the fuck is he then, Robarra?"
"No one knows," She said, rather more forcefully. "But Stark, you've got to leave while you still can. You threatened the prince - Aerys is mad as it is, he takes being looked at the wrong way as treason, let alone - "
"I'm not leaving until Rhaegar returns Lyanna, and if that treacherous cunt has harmed a single hair on her head - "
But it was too late. More guards were already flocking into the courtyard, half of the Kingsguard amongst them, swords drawn to apprehend Brandon and his companions. It was a dozen men against a hundred, they had no chance, but Stark drew his sword anyway and the others followed suit. Elbert Arryn was one of his companions, Robarra realised suddenly. She recognised Jon's nephew from her time at the Eyrie, though as he was not there often, and was some years older than her and Ned, they had only ever been acquaintances.
Perhaps stupidly, she moved to stand between them, hoping she could calm the situation somewhat, but then she felt the cold bite of steel at her neck. Brandon Stark had grabbed her from behind and held his sword to her throat.
For fucks sake.
There were shouts of alarm from the guards, who drew back immediately at the sight of the crown prince's wife being held hostage. Stark's companions formed a protective ring around him and Robarra, preventing any ill-advised rescue attempts.
"Seven hells, Stark," She swore. "I was doing you a favour," She didn't think he'd actually kill her, though could've done without this. "You've just signed your death warrant,"
"If Aerys doesn't murder me then my brother will, aye?" He sounded darkly amused, close enough for her to feel his breath on her neck. Robarra had to laugh despite the circumstances.
"He's always said I have a talent for getting in trouble,"
"That how you ended up with the bastard?" Her throat tightened in panic, for perhaps the first time in her life lost for words. She was glad his voice was too low for anyone else to hear. "I'm sure you'd beg for my life anyway, for Ned's sake, but I thought a reminder was necessary, just in case you were having doubts,"
"I'm not going to beg," Robarra found her voice, anger and voice rising. "Did he tell you?" Because she would knock him to the ground if he had. She had used to win most of their fights as children, being larger than him for most of it; her fury would carry her to victory now.
"Not exactly,"
She wished he could elaborate on that, but there was no time.
"Release the princess, Stark," Ser Jonothor Darry was saying sternly. Not much emotion to that one, only dead-eyed duty. "If you do, we will let you and your companions walk free, though you will be banished from this city on pain of death,"
"You'll cut me down where I stand the moment I let her go," Brandon laughed coldly. "Give me a more compelling offer,"
"You are hardly in a position for bargaining,"
"Just like my sister, when your darling prince and white-cloaked brothers carried her off kicking and screaming,"
"Enough!" Robarra's voice at full volume was loud enough to silence everyone else's. Her childhood septa had disapprovingly clucked that she had the volume of a battlefield commander, not a courtly lady. It came in useful now, as she addressed the Kingsguard. "Brandon Stark means no harm to anyone here. Not myself, nor the prince, despite his foolish words. Let him speak to the king concerning his missing sister,"
"He's holding a sword to your throat," Ser Jaime Lannister pointed out wryly, looking rather too entertained by the whole situation but equally poised to spring into action at a moment's notice. Lannister was perhaps her favourite of all the Kingsguard; better looking than even Ser Arthur, and as sharp-tongued as Ser Oswell, he made for amusing company.
"And violently threatened Prince Rhaegar," Jonothor Darry's eyes were hard.
"I personally vouch for him," She insisted. "I'm a bloody princess, I thought you all had to do what I say, for Seven's sake. Put your swords away and bring out bread and salt. Everyone can swear guest right and stop this turning into an even bigger storm of shit,"
"I - " She heard Brandon start to speak and stamped hard on his foot. He swore at her but she just glared at him.
"You wanted an audience with the king, Stark, now you'll get one. And don't think for one moment your blackmail made me do it. Stop acting like a bloody fool and let me go,"
He ground his teeth for a few seconds - not unlike Stannis did, oddly - clearly thinking on it.
"Not until they bring out that bread," Brandon grudgingly accepted.
She supposed that was fair enough.
An unfortunate servant came out after a few minutes, looking terrified as he passed around the bread and salt to Stark and his companions before fleeing back to safety. But then it was done, and everyone sheathed their swords, slowly and warily.
Robarra made a point of remaining stood next to the man, rather than running to the safety of the Kingsguard, even as they walked into the castle. She might not have any mind at all for politics, but even with guest right in place, she didn't trust Aerys not to pull any nasty tricks.
Quite rightly, too. Unsurprisingly, the king look one look at Brandon and screamed for them all to be thrown in the black cells. Yet, to everyone's amazement, his rather pitiful Hand (who had no chance of filling Lord Tywin's shoes) actually stood up for himself for once and insisted that killing Stark would be breaking guest right. Robarra backed him up, and even Aerys had to relent. After lots of mad ravings and violent threats, the king grudgingly agreed for the men to be placed under arrest in conditions more suited to their station.
Robarra couldn't help but feel uneasy. There was a nasty look in Aerys' eye when he had agreed to their suggestion. He might not despise her as he despised many others - he even seemed to like her some of the time, saying she reminded him of her father, when he wasn't muttering about her being overly familiar and whorish - but there was no chance of him listening to a woman on important matters.
Nothing seemed to come of it, however, and it was beyond her to spy and scheme to find out anything that wasn't obvious. Robarra checked on Brandon Stark and his companions every day, to make sure they hadn't been strangled in their sleep or slaughtered like pigs, but although restless and angry, they all seemed fine. What more could she do than that, really? It was down to her that they weren't rotting in the black cells, or their corpses thrown into Blackwater Bay.
Lord Rickard arrived to petition for his son's release some weeks later. He demanded a trial by combat to prove Brandon's innocence; of course he did, his son was most definitely guilty no matter how understandable the crime. A full trial would give him no chance.
Robarra dared to hope that everything would turn out fine. That all this mess would resolve itself, that the Starks would return home disgruntled but alive and her scumbag of a husband would bring back Lyanna completely unharmed and give her up without fuss. Of course, another part of her hoped to have to fight and scream to get what she wanted, to have to break down Rhaegar so that he released the Stark girl to her family, to see the Starks and Baratheons turn on Mad Aerys and take revenge on the Targaryen prince who had wronged them.
She watched keenly at the base of the Iron Throne as Lord Stark turned up in his armour to fight Aerys' chosen champion. Whatever she was feeling before was soon turned to rage and panic when the king revealed his champion. Wildfire.
"No," She stepped forward as Brandon roared in fury and was immediately restrained by four guards. "No, you can't," Four more apprehended Lord Rickard.
"Does the Baratheon whore presume to tell her rightful king what to do?" Aerys waved her away like an annoying fly, eyes fixed eagerly on the pyre now being constructed and jars of wildfire being wheeled in by dozens of pyromancers.
"You would dare to break guest right?" Rickard Stark sounded coldly furious.
"It was your heir who had our bread and salt, not you," The Mad King had the nerve to smirk.
Gods, she knew he was insane, but this was too much.
The whole room had descended into chaos. Brandon was still yelling in rage and so was she. Lord Rickard was dragged over to be hung from the rafters. The king ignored them all, eyes alive with cruelty and madness.
Robarra tried to move forward to stop them building the pyre, not really thinking, which only led to her being restrained as well, initially more gently, then less so as they realised how strong she was and how willing she was to fight.
She could do nothing but watch in horror as they lit the pyre and Rickard Stark burned, screaming. Everyone who burned here screamed. Aerys laughed as the man's heir howled with rage, fighting like an animal to escape his captors and reach his father, to no avail. The heat from the vivid green flames was overwhelming, as was the terrible smell.
And then it was over. Lord Rickard's armour was blackened and smoking, creaking awfully, a charred corpse inside. The new Lord Stark was dragged back to his comfortable cell with all kinds of threats and insults spilling from his lips, and glassy eyes too.
Robarra didn't think it was possible for her to become any more sickened with how the day had turned out, until Aerys snapped out of his amused malice, all traces of humour leaving his face in the blink of an eye.
"I want the heads of Eddard Stark and Stannis Baratheon," He demanded, to the few guardsmen present, leaving them all in stunned silence as he swept out of the hall.
The moment he left, one of the guards threw up in a corner, clearly having been holding it in. Robarra felt like doing the same.
No doubt the king thought the two other men who had ties to Lyanna would continue to threaten his house. But Stannis was her own brother, and she was a princess, so he was allied to the king, why would the king turn on his own allies? And Ned... Ned had done nothing. He wasn't even the heir, just a second son. Even Brandon was still alive; in a cell and ready to rip out Aerys' throat with his teeth, yes, but alive.
As the weeks after the murder of Rickard Stark passed, she heard from afar of her friend's return north. How Ned crossed the Bite to raise his banners and march back down through the neck to join up with Jon's forces from the Vale and the Tullys of Riverrun. Lady Catelyn was still betrothed to Brandon, after all. If Brandon died on the Mad King's whim in the coming months, then she would marry Ned instead. To sweeten the deal no doubt, news came that Elbert Arryn - as much a captive as Brandon - was betrothed to Lysa Tully.
Robarra also heard of Stannis' struggle bringing the Stormlands under the rebels banner. He had rebelled reluctantly, his duty to his king and sister's husband warring with his duty to his betrothed and the insult paid to his sister. Though a competent leader, her brother was not an inspiring one. Most houses thankfully followed their liege lord, though there were a few still loyal to the crown.
She wrote to many of these rogue houses herself, urging them to join Stannis, which helped in some cases and was ignored in others. It was worth the risk of being found out. Pycelle wouldn't tell on her, he was Tywin Lannister's creature, and surely if Lannister meant to join Aerys, he would have raised his banners already?
But no sooner had her brother managed to get an iron grip on his lands - and executed all the lords that refused to yield, for better or worse - he was forced to defend them against the royalist forces hoping to cut him off from the larger army to the north.
Every day Robarra feared hearing that Stannis was dead. They had never been close, but he was still her brother despite being a stubborn, dour-faced ass. She feared greatly for Ned too; he was not trained for leading, and though he was undoubtedly tough and strong, there was always something in him that seemed too kind for war.
The deaths of everyone she loved was a painfully real possibility, and Robarra was going mad trapped her, unable to help anyone beyond a few poxy letters.
If only she had been born a man, she could lead from the battlefield, carving a path through Targaryen loyalists with Ned and Jon at her side... But then Lyanna would be her stolen bride, not Stannis', and the situation would be different entirely. Or perhaps Lyanna would have been betrothed to Rhaegar from the start and this entire mess would never have happened.
Her children wouldn't have been born either, and no matter her other faults, or distaste for her husband, Robarra loved her children.
She knew the aim of the rebels was to punish Rhaegar and Aerys for the great insult dealt to the Starks, Baratheons and by extension, their allies. Did that mean they wished to put her daughter on the throne? Visenya was a girl of two, and queens did not have a good history on the Iron Throne.
Stannis, strangely, had a claim himself through their Targaryen grandmother. Robarra was half of a mind to let him take it over her own daughters. Not only would that tie her to this place for decades, but she had no desire to paint such a large target on her own child's back. Men like Tywin Lannister would tear her apart. Ambition had never been one of her traits; she would happily give up a crown and chance at power to live a simpler life where she could do exactly as she wished and her daughters were safe. Retreat to Storm's End and cause no trouble.
Surely whoever won this war would give her that much?
And the rebellion is in full swing! What should it be called? Stannis' Rebellion doesn't have as much of a ring to it, and he's not quite as inspiring as Robert was. Robert forgave the lords that fought against him, Stannis executed them instead, therefore he's struggling to bring the Stormlands to heel quite as fast. He ultimately succeeded, but the delay resulted in him being forced to defend his own lands rather than attack.
Hope you enjoyed, thanks for reading/commenting!