Fapman: Well they'll be in the same city, whether or not time will give them the chance or they'll take it is another matter.
BLACK-OP1: Well he hasn't done anything illegal yet, we know he's written the letters and is planning to take the throne, but they don't and you can't name someone an enemy of the crown without cause.
Anon: I think survival is more in their interests than escaping, but there are still some Targaryen loyalists around who can help Dany if they are brave enough.
Tristan didn't remember Riverrun well. He had wanted to pass by it on the way to the tourney of Highgarden with Domeric, but the Bolton heir had insisted on riding down the Kingsroad, which would be quicker than going through the heart of the Riverlands, and avoid having to pay the massive tolls of the Twins. So he had not been here since his birth, but what a sight it was. From every tower the trout of Tully flew, coupled with the beautiful Direwolf of Stark. The camp outside was hosting the six thousand horse that his brother could call upon to fight the war, the veterans of the Whispering Wood and the battle of the camps. He wished he could count himself in that number, but no matter, now he was here, his brother no doubt wanted him to ride alongside him for the next campaign. He crossed the drawbridge of Riverrun and entered the castle, dismounting in the courtyard. "Elmar," he called to his young squire. "Take the horses. Theon, let's go find our new king."
"Gods," Theon muttered, grinning. "I wonder how he'll act, now that he's got a crown."
Tristan shrugged. "Who can say?" He asked. "But Robb will be Robb, that much I have faith in."
A man in steward's robes greeted them as they approached the keep. "Lords Tristan and Theon?" He asked, and they nodded. "His Grace, King Robb, has requested your presence."
He escorted them to the great hall of Riverrun. When they arrived, a man in the twin towers of Frey was being dragged out by the Greatjon's men. "That will bode well for his wife," Theon chuckled.
Inside, Robb was sat on the great chair, his furs around him and smiling as they watched the Frey leave. But his smile grew when he saw Tristan. On top of his head was a crown. Not gold, as was worn in the south, but a circlet of bronze with nine iron spikes shaped like longswords. "Tristan," Robb called down to him, getting to his feet. "You came!"
"You called," he replied, greeting Robb in a fierce hug. They pulled apart, and then Tristan remembered. He dropped to one knee and bowed his head, "Your Grace."
Robb laughed and dragged him to his feet. "Come," he said, clapping him on the shoulder. "I would hear of how you fared from your own mouth. And we have matters to discuss."
With that, Robb dismissed all but himself, Theon, Tristan and the Direwolves. "So," he said, sitting back down, taking off his newly forged crown and rubbing his temples. "This battle against Tywin Lannister, I hear not all went well."
Tristan shook his head. "No, the Lannisters were able to press us hard, and we couldn't make up the difference against their knights." He clapped Theon on the shoulder. "It's only thanks to Theon that we survived, he raided the baggage train, forcing the Lannister reserves back long enough for us to retreat. We all owe him our lives." Theon couldn't stop himself looking smug at that.
"He seems to have suffered for it," Robb commented, indicating the deep scar on Theon's left cheek that marred his handsome Greyjoy features. "A Lannister blade, Theon?"
Theon shook his head. "I owe your brother for this one," he said. "When he heard about Lord Eddard's death..."
Tristan felt his fingernails dig deep into his palms.
"You attacked Theon?" Robb asked, incredulous.
Tristan shook his head. "No, I was attacking a tree, Theon and others tried to stop me. If you think that's bad, you haven't seen the tree." He had beaten his blade blunt against the tree, hacking off chunks of bark and cutting deep gouges and furrows into the wood. Theon and four men had to wrestle him down. "Or the Lannisters... when I get my hands on Joffrey, he will wish he was flayed."
"With some fortune, Joffrey will die, Tristan, I intend to see that through. But even if he doesn't, we will take two kingdoms from him." Tristan looked at Robb. That wasn't enough. He needed Joffrey to die, he wanted to taste his blood and feed his carcass to Shield and Nymeria. He wanted to slice off those red wormy lips and gouge out his eyes, rip out his tongue and strangle him with his own entrails. That was all he deserved. "Tristan, I am King in the North now, I have to protect my people, and I will do so in father's name." He shrugged off Robb's hand. He would follow his twin, as was his place. But if he got his chance to kill Joffrey, nothing would stop him. "Theon," Robb said. "I'm sorry, but can I speak with Tristan alone."
"Time for the twins," the cocksure Greyjoy said, grinning and nodding. "Of course," he bowed before Robb and left the room, closing the door behind him.
"Tristan," he said, when they were alone, hugging him again. "I wish we had more time together, but I have remained still and silent for long enough. Now I have delivered my peace terms to King Joffrey-"
"What!" He demanded. Peace! No, it was too soon for peace, he hadn't shed enough Lannister blood by half.
"Don't worry," he said, placing his hand on her shoulder. "The Queen Regent will never consent to them. I mean to make the Lannisters pay in blood before the war ends."
He nodded to his brother. "We both will."
Robb sighed and shook his head. "Not together, at least, not at first. I have a task for you."
His eyes narrowed. "What task? Unless you want someone carved up, you had best send someone else."
"I don't think so," he said. "I think for this task, you are the best suited man I have. I am sending you to negotiate with Renly Baratheon."
He must have heard wrongly. That was exactly the sort of thing he was worst at. "Renly Baratheon?" He asked.
Robb nodded. "Of everyone I have, you are the one who met him most recently."
"In passing," he replied. They had met at Darry, but had never said so much as three words to each other. They may have greeted each other, but that was all.
"That is more than any other," he said. "Mother met Renly Baratheon as a child, not since. Besides," he said, glancing around. "Mother wants to get our sisters back, more than anything. I fear if I send her to Renly Baratheon, she will make an arrangement that is unfavourable to me and my realm. To us all. I want Sansa and Arya back," he added, defending himself. "But I can't surrender the Kingdom of the North to do so."
Tristan nodded. "I see," he said. "But of all our allies, why Renly Baratheon?"
"He is the only one we can reach," he said. "Aunt Lysa is in the Vale, walled by stone and steel, and Tywin Lannister stands between us and her. She is not like to join us anyhow. I have sent a dozen ravens from as many holdfasts, not one reply has come to us. The Martells of Dorne may hold no love for the Lannisters, but they are too far south. That leaves Renly Baratheon as our only chance. Well... Renly Baratheon... and Balon Greyjoy."
"Greyjoy," Tristan repeated. "You mean to negotiate with him? Who are you sending?"
"Theon," Robb replied. "Theon will be the best man to negotiate with his father."
He nodded. He saw the sense in it, only Theon really knew the Ironborn. Besides, they had rebelled against the Baratheon kings once before, now they had a chance to do it again, a better chance.
"Okay, Theon is going to the Greyjoys, but aside from my brief encounter with Renly Baratheon, is there any reason why you think sending me is a good idea?"
"There are a number of reasons," Robb said. "Renly has crowned himself king now, sending someone lesser might be perceived as an insult. And you know his wife's family."
Tristan's breath hitched. "Who?" He asked, praying that Robb wasn't about to say the name he thought he was.
"Margaery Tyrell," Robb replied, shattering Tristan's hopes.
"Robb," he said quietly. "I am your twin, your younger twin, and you are my king. If you order me to go, I will, but I beg you, please don't. Please."
"Tristan," Robb said, calmly. "I know you want to be with me in the war. I want to be with you as well. But Renly Baratheon's host in said to number over one hundred thousand. If we can get his support, we will win. Unless there's another reason why you don't want to go, I need you."
Tristan closed his eyes. What happened at Highgarden still haunted his dreams from time to time, though time was seemingly mending the wound. But if he told Robb... he couldn't lose his brother's love or trust, they meant everything to him. "No," he said quietly. "I'll go, Robb." He would deal with the scorn of the Reachmen during the negotiations, if it kept him in his brother's graces.
"Thank you," his twin replied, pressing their foreheads together. Tristan held the back of his brother's neck as Robb did the same to him.
"What are you going to be doing?" He asked Robb.
"I must ride," he said. "I have been still too long. I'll give Theon his instructions and then we depart."
"Be careful," he warned Robb. "Tywin Lannister is dangerous, and I didn't see the Riverlords marshalled outside Riverrun."
"I let them go home," Robb said. "Clear Lannister garrisons off their lands. Uncle Edmure insisted. And I said nothing about Tywin Lannister."
"Where then?" Tristan asked.
"West" he replied. "Another Lannister host is being marshalled at Casterly Rock. Granduncle Brynden believes that Tywin Lannister is waiting on them. I agree. I will smash it and repay the Lannisters for what they have done to the Trident."
His mouth watered at the prospect. "I'll come and join you when I'm done," he said.
"No. When done, you'll return to your host. Tywin will have to leave Harrenhal to answer my challenge. When he departs Harrenhal, you must lead your men to seize it from behind him. Harrenhal is a valuable seat, take it and we can protect our flank."
Once again, he would be parted from his brother. "As you command, Robb." He said. "I'll hold Harrenhal and cut Tywin Lannister off from King's Landing." Then it dawned on him. "You mean to have Renly Baratheon seize it in the meantime."
Robb nodded. "If so, he can rid us of Joffrey the Queen and two of her brothers in one fell swoop. But you must not tell him this. Do not reveal our hand to him."
"Why not?"
"Because if you tell him that then we have no bargaining power," Robb explained. "We will just be giving him King's Landing, he'll have no reason to ally with us since we'll be doing it anyway."
Tristan saw that much. "Okay, I won't mention it."
Robb nodded. "Now I must make preparations with Brynden and the others. You should see to mother."
"I will," he said. "But there is something I must do first."
"What?" Robb asked.
Tristan looked aside, after his brother's perfect victories, how could he look him in the eye. "Daryn's father, Lord Harys," he said. "In my failed battle, he fell, I brought his bones, Daryn should decide what to do with them."
His brother seemed to understand. "Just make sure you go and see mother when you're done," he said.
"I will," he promised.
He found Daryn and Domeric crossing blades in the courtyard. "As good as ever," he commented, approaching them, Nymeria and Shield at his side. "But still not as good as me."
They turned to him. "Tristan!" Domeric called, approaching him and gripping him in a fierce embrace, and Daryn did the same, holding him tightly.
"It's good to see you again," he told them both. "And as for you," he said, smacking Domeric's shoulders. "I hear my brother owes you his life."
"I it wasn't me, it would have been another," Domeric replied, modestly.
"Doesn't change the fact," Daryn said. "You took the Kingslayer from his saddle."
Tristan remembered that Lord Bolton had threatened to smile when they had heard the news. His son had captured Jaime Lannister. It was enough to make any lord proud. "I wish I had news as good," he said, turning to Daryn and struggling to meet his eye. Be beckoned the guardsmen over, who brought the heavy wooden chest with them. "I'm sorry Daryn," he said. "But your father... did not survive the battle with Tywin Lannister."
Daryn looked crestfallen. "I heard," he said. "I wish I'd been there in his final moments," he said. "Are these...?"
Tristan nodded. "They are, I brought his bones, I wasn't sure what you would want done with them."
Daryn ran his fingers over the oaken box. "Thank you," he said. "I... must think... perhaps have some men return them."
"We may need every man for the war," Domeric reminded him.
"I'm sure Ser Edmure would let you keep them here until we're ready to return them," Tristan said. "But think it over," he added. "And please, keep protecting my brother."
"We aren't going with him," Domeric said. "He is entrusting us with keep you safe in the south."
Tristan wanted to feel insulted that Robb didn't think he could handle himself, and was throwing away the protection he had given him. But he was glad to have his friends riding beside him again. If only Cley were here, they would ride as four. He wondered how Cley's father fared, for he had been made prisoner by the battle that had killed Daryn's father. "I look forward to it," he said. "But I must now speak with mother. We'll talk later," he said.
They nodded and waved him off.
Negotiation, then taking an undefended castle. At this rate he'd never meet the Lannisters in battle again for the rest of the war.
