The sounds of battle were deaf to the Young Wolf's ears as he surveyed the remains of the battlefield. Lannister men and his own soldiers laid out across the ground in a bloody, mangled mess. He grimaced at the horrible loss of life and hoped the dead would be able to find their peace in the afterlife. The siege surrounding Riverrun was lifted but at what cost? He had sent over two thousand Northern men to their deaths, and what was his prize?
Jaime Lannister.
The Southern swot who started this by pushing his little brother off of a tower. Now as he watched as his men collected the rest of the prisoners and their wounded brothers he wished his brother was here with him. Gods he prayed Jon was safe, and he prayed they both would come out of this alive. But was life ever certain in a war?
Robb pushed the dark thoughts from his mind when he noticed Theon riding towards him along with Greatjon Umber and Lady Mormont. The Northern highborn fighters each regarded each other before they clambered onto their horses and began the trek back to their encampment. During the ride through the Whispering Woods Robb appreciated the cool breeze upon his face as his horse led the rest of the troops through the winding paths. As the path brightened he breathed a sigh of relief and smiled as the other soldiers picked up their pace towards the end of the tree line. The Northern forces rushed into the clearing and Robb's spirits brightened more when he caught the form of his mother and Ser Rodrik Cassel waiting for the army's return. He dismounted from his horse and his mother rushed towards him, pulling him into a tight hug.
The auburn man slowly released his mother from his hold and they separated, she became a stern lady once more and he returned to his stoic visage. The other Lords dismounted their horses while two soldiers dragged the captured Lannister to his mother's feet. Robb glared at the golden-haired man while Lord Umber held the exhausted Southern knight up, "By the time they knew what was happening it had already happened."
The Kingslayer greeted the woman in front of him, "Lady Stark, I'd offer you my sword but I've seemed to have lost it."
"It is not your sword I want," She spat out. "Give me my daughters back, give me my husband."
Jaime sighed as pain flashed through his body, "I've lost them too, I'm afraid."
"Kill him, Robb," Theon suggested. "Send his head to his father. He cut down ten of our men, you saw him."
The Stark shook his head, "He's more use to us alive than dead."
Catelyn nodded her head in agreement, "Take him away and put him in irons."
As Theon and the Greatjon brought the knight to his feet he spoke up, "We could end this war right now boy, save thousands of lives." He gestured between himself and Robb. "You fight for the Starks I fight for the Lannisters. Swords, lances, teeth, or nails: choose your weapons, and let's end this here and now."
Robb quirked his brow, "If we do it your way Kingslayer you'd win," He shook his head. "We're not doing it your way."
Lord Umber scoffed at the Lion's poor attempt to win his freedom, "Come on, pretty man." He hauled up the prisoner and dragged him away from the Starks while the soldiers surrounding them cheered and applauded for their victory. Robb froze at the cheers and his face paled at the sight of celebration around him.
"I sent two thousand men to their graves today."
Theon smiled at his friend, but Robb caught the worry shining in the Greyjoy's eyes, "The bards will sing songs of their sacrifice."
"Aye," He agreed. "But the dead won't hear them." He stepped forward toward the men who were joyous for their success. "One victory does not make us conquerors." the soldiers quieted as they listened to their Liege Lord. "Did we free my father? Did we rescue my sisters from the Queen? Did we free the North from those who want us on our knees? This war is far from over." The crowd watched as Robb finished with his words and stepped away from the center of the mass of men. But before he could remount his horse and continue towards the camp they had set up further away from the river a familiar voice cut through the air.
"The Gods work in odd ways brother, just have to trust that we Northerners are smart enough to listen to them."
Robb shot his body back around to see the forms of four people on the outskirts of their men, dressed in simple peasant clothing. The soldiers near them had drawn their weapons worried the four were spies of the Lannisters, but the auburn man quickly sprinted through the crowd until he was face to face with his previously missing brother, Jon. He wrapped his arms around the man and nearly crushed him against his armor, but let go when Jon's breathing became staggered. He pulled back to see Myria standing next to her husband looking worse for wear, but unharmed and pulled her into a bone-crushing hug as well.
"Wow Robb, you hug Jon's wife instead of me first. Shows how much you care." The snarky voice of his youngest sister had Robb freezing once more and his mother crying out as she ran towards her little girl. He and his sister-in-law separated just in time to see Arya get swept up by her mother. The older woman cried as she held her daughter, and Arya awkwardly accepted her mother's affection. The men around them relaxed and many started to laugh and cheer for the small band of Starks who had found their way back to their rightful place.
"Oh, Arya! Oh my little girl, thank the Gods."
The She-Wolf then attempted to squirm out of her mother's grip, "Bloody hell mum, let me go."
The Stark matriarch gasped, "Arya Stark you watch your language." The mother continued to berate her child while Robb noticed Jon and Myria standing by an unknown boy with ink-black hair and ocean blue eyes.
"And who might you be?" The boy fidgeted under the questioning gaze of the Lord.
"Uh, Gendry Waters, m'lord," He kept his eyes locked with Robb's blue orbs. "I'm an old friend of Lady Dayne, well I guess Lady Stark now."
"Aye, that sounds about right," Robb chuckled. "Any friend of my sister's is a friend of the North." The Northern men around the small group cheered at their Lord's declaration and Gendry flushed from the attention he was surrounded by. "Now," The auburn man turned and wrapped his arm around his brother's shoulders. "How in the Seven Hells did you get out of King's Landing and all the way here?"
"A lot of bloody luck."
Robb smirked at Jon's quip, "Let's get your sorry souls back to camp, and then we can further discuss your lot's grand adventure."
"Believe me," The Stark man glanced over to the Dornish woman. "Not much of an adventure, more like a horrible trip with two squabbling children."
"Oi! Ria, you know Gendry always started it," Robb laughed at his sister's hot tone.
"Oh of course," The black-haired boy rolled his eyes. "Cause a lady never starts fights, not at all."
Arya struggled to get out of her mother's tight grip on her shoulders, "I told you, I'm not a lady!"
The young adults laughed at the bickering of the two young counterparts while Lady Catelyn rolled her eyes at the foolishness before the small Stark group led the rest of the now far more hopeful Northern army back to their encampment.
The small group of family members quickly swept through the camp towards the larger tents ladened with Stark flags, with every man they passed bowing towards the new members of the camp as they walked by. Jon followed behind his brother as they entered a tent with a long wooden table covered in maps and troop movements. The Lords in the tent stood from their seats at the entrance of their Liege Lord and raised their brows at the ragged group behind the auburn man and Lady Catelyn, who had yet to release Arya's hand from her own.
"We leave for ten minutes and all hell breaks loose it seems," Roose Bolton jested. "So who are these new faces?" He calmly asked as he swept his eyes from grey, purple, and blue ones.
"Gods Roose, you must be getting old if you can't tell who's a bloody Stark anymore," Greatjon bellowed as he moved through the tent and clasped his hand onto Jon's shoulder. "You must be Jon judging by Ned's grey eyes."
The man in question nodded, "Aye, Lord Umber he's my brother, Jon. And this," He gestured to the Dornish woman. "Is his wife, Lady Myria of Houses Dayne and Stark." The Northern Lord offered his hand to the enchanting woman and she politely let him bestow a kiss to her hand. "And this little beast is my sister, Arya." The girl grumbled at her introduction and Lady Mormont smirked at the child's attitude.
"Well, it is our damn lucky day then!" The old Lord proclaimed. "Caught a Kingslayer and a whole pack of wolves." The other Lords and Lady in the tent except Lord Bolton nodded their heads in agreement.
"And how was it Lord Stark and his wife were able to escape King's Landing?" The Lord of the Dreadfort questioned. "Last I heard both Stark daughters were still in the Queen's grasp. And why not bring Lord Stark's other sister with you?"
The merriment halted at the man's suspiciously toned sentence, but the spiced accent of the black-haired Lady cut through the silence. "A good question, Lord Bolton is it?" The man tilted his head. "We were lucky to leave the capital before Robb's father was arrested, and he insisted Jon and I bring Arya with us."
"But, why would Ned not send Sansa too?" Lady Catelyn worriedly asked.
"Because Sansa was still engaged to the Crown Prince at the time. If we tried to leave with her the Queen would have noticed for certain," The younger lady pointed out.
"Lady Catelyn," The mother turned her gaze to her husband's bastard. "We left before King Robert had passed, we did not know Sansa and Lord Stark would have been arrested."
She glared at the grey-eyed man, "You should have known, you went to the capital to warn Ned of danger but failed to inform him of the danger right under his nose."
"Lady Stark," A quiet voice chimed in, and many in the room turned to the previously silent boy standing near the entrance of the tent. "They left the city because your husband commanded them to, I think Lord Stark wished to keep as much of his family safe as he was able."
"Thank you Gendry," Myria added. "And if we are throwing blame we must discuss your own, Lady Catelyn."
"Excuse me, Lady Myria?"
"It was you who followed Jon and me to the capital when we asked you not to, as it was too dangerous," Robb quirked his brows at his mother as she flushed red with anger. "And you were the one who unjustly arrested Tyrion Lannister which started this conflict in the first place. If you had not then Ser Jaime would not have attacked your husband in the streets of the city and ignited this ember to a flame which has now engulfed the Seven Kingdoms."
The tent was silent as the two women stared each other down. Jon huffed at his wife's confidence against his brother's mother while the rest of the members of the war council waited for the Lady of Winterfell to denounce the Dornish woman's points, but were surprised more when the older woman scoffed and pulled herself and her small daughter from the tent without another word.
"I thought you said this woman was from the South, Robb," The Greatjon broke the silence. "Her words are as icy as our homeland." The tense feeling in the room left as the men laughed lightly at the lord's jest. Jon glanced at his wife's stoic face and gently placed his arm around her waist, smiling when she relaxed at his touch.
"Aye, she is as North a woman as my own mother is," Robb agreed. "Jon, if you wouldn't mind leaving your wife and Gendry here to their own devices for a bit I would be most interested in having you part of the council." Jon nodded his head to his brother and kissed his wife lightly on the cheek before she and Gendry were led from the tent by a Stark guard. The two friends walked silently through the camp with the guard until he stopped at a large tent with Stark banners on either side of it.
"Lord Stark's tent, my Lady," Myria smiled at the man and thanked him as she and the blacksmith stepped into the tent. The ground in the tent was luckily covered in animal skin rugs to block the wet ground and there was a small table with sturdy chairs surrounding it as well as a sizable bed draped in a multitude of blankets separated from the rest of the room with its own curtained doorway. Candlelight illuminated the inside of the tent as she and Gendry claimed two of the table's chairs as their own. They had barely taken their seats when a small mousy woman walked in with two piles of clothes in her arms. She quickly placed the clothing in front of each of the tent's occupants before swiftly returning to her normal duties. Myria picked up the offered clothing and wandered into the closed-off bedroom area to change out of her uncomfortable peasant's dress.
As she held up the new dress to observe it she recognized it as one of Lady Catelyn's own. The dress was of fine blue wool with fur lining the edges of the hem and sleeves. The dress was also accompanied by a clean shift, cotton petticoat, and stockings. A pair of black flats tied the ensemble together. She quickly redressed herself into the clean clothing and mused at the different style of dress than she was accustomed to. The Northern dress was looser on her body than the tight Southern dresses she was used to and far more insulated against the cold air that filtered through the tent. And while the dress was far softer than the one she had been in for the past few weeks the fabric did not compare to the softness of silks or organzas she was accustomed to as a child living in the South. She appreciated the lack of need for a corset with the style of dress, as it snugly laced up in the back instead of the usual buttons.
She waited a few more minutes before rejoining Gendry in the main area of the tent and glanced at her friend's new attire. He rubbed his arm as he attempted to sit comfortably in the new layers he now donned. A dark green tunic with a brown doublet and black jerkin layered over it, as well as wool breeches and new leather boots made him want to sweat even though the temperature in his old clothing was frigid.
"Too many layers for your Southern temperament Gen?"
"Don't you find it a bit tight?" She laughed at his concerned tone.
"Gods no," She retook her seat across from the boy. "How about I put a corset on you and then you tell me if a tunic and a few layers are tight."
He cringed, "Point made Ria." The two passed their time waiting with short anecdotes and Gendry was in the middle of a story involving himself, a wheel of cheese, and a stray dog when Arya came bursting into the tent with her mother not far behind. The girl struggled with her new grey dress but still laughably sat onto one of the rugs in the room instead of the table where her mother gracefully placed herself.
"Ria you'll never guess who I found!" The Stark girl shouted once she had found a way to sit without choking herself on the torture device her mother had squeezed her into.
The Dornish woman raised her brow with a sparkle in her eye, "Who did you find Arya?" Instead of answering the woman, the girl let out a shrill whistle that had Gendry plugging his ears to escape the ear-splitting noise. The purple-eyed woman turned her head to the tent's flaps and smiled as two forms lumbered their way into the tent. The large grey and black mass made her way over to her master and Arya squealed as Nymeria licked her face, while the even larger white wolf quietly placed himself by Myria's feet and happily wagged his tail when the woman gently began to pet his soft fur.
"Gods, are those-"
"Direwolves, yes Gendry. They are," Arya called proudly. "This is Nymeria, she's mine. The white one is Ghost, he's Jon's."
The Lady of Winterfell reluctantly nodded her head, "Robb insisted on bringing the animals with them, his own, Greywind, barely leaves his side." Speaking of the other direwolf, the giant mass wandered into the tent with his master and Jon following behind him. The wolf quickly wandered over to Arya and Nymeria laying down by the girl's side. The two brothers joined the Stark women and Gendry at the table and Jon smiled at Ghost sitting by his wife's side.
Robb took in the sight of his previously missing family members and sighed, "Jon informed me how you found your way here, following a scout," He glanced at his sister-in-law. "Smart thinking, Myria." She lightly bowed her head at the compliment. "But we are far from the clear ending we all hope for; however, now that we have the Kingslayer in custody and Arya with us, trading him for Father and Sansa should be quite easy."
"Even if we get Father back," Jon began. "The Lannsiters will still want all of our heads on spikes. Joffery sits on the throne, which puts the Realm in more danger than we could even imagine."
"You're right Jon," Robb agreed. "Having a tyrant on the throne will do no one any good. This is why I believe when we get Father back we should support Stannis Baratheon as Robert's successor."
"While it is a good idea Robb," Myria cut in. "Don't put all of your eggs in one basket. Wait until we have Eddard back before we go proclaiming for a new King."
"A wise idea Ria, but why suggest it?" Robb wondered. "Not even an hour ago you practically denounced this whole conflict as my mother's fault when we all know the Lannisters were the ones who attack Bran."
"Yes, I won't deny I think they are at fault for attacking Bran, but I recall informing you and your mother in the Godswood the knife the assassin used was not Tyrion Lannister's. Yet Lady Catelyn decided to trust a man she has not seen in twenty years over her own family member."
"Lord Baelish actually could confirm Tyrion owned the blade," Catelyn defended.
"Did you hear Tyrion say this to the man or did you take Petyr's word?" The mother paused at the other woman's response. "Exactly, And if you asked any other in the Red Keep they would have told you the blade was won off King Robert by Lord Baelish over a year ago. Many remember that jousting tournament rather well."
"So you accuse me of arresting the wrong man?"
Myria shook her head, "I accuse you of following false evidence to the wrong man, I know not if Baelish was the one to hire the assassin or simply provide the blade. But he was involved and used your childhood friendship to throw you off his scent. You will find men like him are quick to save their skins than protect the good of the Realm."
Robb raised his hand, "It does not matter now, but you cannot go accusing my Mother in front of all of my Bannermen Myria. It is a bad front for morale if we don't trust each other," He then turned to his mother who wore a smug smirk. "And Mother, next time you want to do anything with the war effort or wish to offer an idea of guilt, bring it to myself and Jon first."
"So you do not want my counsel?" She hotly asked.
"That is not what I said, Mother," Robb quickly added. "I just want you to relax and look after Arya for the moment. I know how much you worried about her. And I will do everything in my power to bring Sansa and Father back to you as well."
The auburn woman let out a sigh and nodded her head while she rubbed her temples. She then rose from her seat, collected her daughter, and left to head back to her tent. Gendry and Jon let out breaths of relief once the woman had left.
"Gods, you could cut that tension with a knife." The other three at the table chuckled at the blacksmith's observation.
"So, now that you two have put aside your differences for the moment," Jon muttered as he glanced at his wife's annoyed face. "We had something to talk to you about Robb." Robb watched as his brother rose from his chair and wandered around the table to the leather bag sitting in front of his wife. Gendry sat up a bit straighter when Jon pulled a small box out of it as well as a velvet pouch with three lumps jutting through the red fabric. He pushed the box over to the auburn man, "Father showed me these after Myria and I were wed. Didn't believe him at first, but it's true."
Robb raised his brow as he opened the small chest and was greeted with a small mass of letters and an old wrinkled leather journal. He paused on a folded piece of parchment with a broken black wax seal depicting a three-headed dragon. He carefully lifted the old document and opened it to read its contents.
I, High Septon Maynard of the Faith of the Seven, lawfully and dutifully annul the marriage between Crown Prince Rhaegar Targaryen and Princess Elia Martell under the wife's pretense of great illness. The Princess may keep her royal title under the sight of Gods and men, and both counterparts are now allowed to remarry for the betterment of their own Houses.
I, High Septon Maynard of the Faith of the Seven, also allow and bear witness to the union of Crown Prince Rhaegar Targaryen and Lady Lyanna Stark in the Light of the Seven. May the lawful union of these two souls be secured with the witnesses' signatures and the blessings of the Gods.
I, Ser Arthur of House Dayne, bear witness to the union of Crown Prince Rhaegar Targaryen and Lady Lyanna Stark in the Light of the Seven.
I, Lady Clara of Houses Arryn and Dayne, bear witness to the union of Crown Prince Rhaegar Targaryen and Lady Lyanna Stark in the Light of the Seven.
"Seven Hells," Robb breathed out as he turned back to Jon. "You said Father showed you this? Where in the Gods' name did he find it?"
"With Lyanna when he found her," Jon answered. "Along with me."
"You," Robb echoed back. "Well, I suppose that would make us cousins instead of brothers."
Jon huffed as he nodded his head, "You'll always be my brother Robb." The Stark man then rose and pulled Jon into a tight hug. Myria smiled at the pair before turning to Gendry who was now reading the official document himself.
"I told you you wouldn't believe what was in the bag, Gen."