Read. Enjoy. Review. (The reading and enjoying are for you ... the reviews are for me.)
I own Lenora Baratheon, nothing more.
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So usually I answer reviews at the end of the chapter, but the wonderful RHatch89 had a question that I figured the answer would be useful for everyone. So I'm going to answer it up here. The question was, "As Robert's only heir wouldn't Lenora be first in line for the throne? Robb marrying her would only strengthen their ties together."
And as answer for that I have two examples of where my mind is going. One from history and one from GoT.
First history: Henry VIII is my favorite English King. There is just something completely wonderful about a man who has a pattern for getting rid of his wives (divorced, beheaded, died, divorced, beheaded, died). Anyway, his first wife Catherine gave him a daughter, Mary. And no other living children. Before Henry decided to completely piss off his country and change everyone's religion and basically declare war on the Pope just so that he could get a divorce, Henry was so desperate for an heir (read: son) that he legitimized one of his bastard sons born from a mistress: Henry Fitzroy. Fast forward he divorces Catherine, marries Anne, has Elizabeth, beheads Anne, marries Jane, finally has his sone Edward. Somewhere in that timeline Henry Fitzroy dies, but it's okay because Henry finally has a son.
The problem becomes that he only has one. His last three wives don't give him children at all, let alone heirs. He's sick, it looks like he's going to die. So he does something that hasn't been done before, desperate to keep a Tudor on the throne, he puts his daughter Mary I and Elizabeth I in the line of succession. They were never supposed to rule. He planned for Edward to live a long, happy life and pass the throne on to his own sons. This didn't happen, Edward died young and Mary Tudor became the first Queen to rule England.
Elizabeth became the second. Elizabeth never married because it was already a stretch to ask England to be ruled by a woman. If she had married the people would naturally look to her husband as their King. In everything except for chess ... King trumps Queen.
Now GoT: Think about the show. Tywin Lannister ordering Tyrion to marry Sansa and get her pregnant shortly there after. He calls Sansa the Key to the North. Her children will be the heirs of Winterfell, specifically her sons. Sansa will never be in control of Winterfell, her son with a regent would be.
I'm going to assume that the same concept would apply to Lenora and the Iron Throne. She is Robert's only trueborn child. At this point in the story, Westeros is not ready to be ruled by a queen, they'd probably sooner legitimize Gendry before that. She would not rule, but her sons would be able to. So if a family, say the Boltons (though I'm not naming any names or making any promises) were to capture her, force her to marry their heir, get her pregnant, have that child be a boy ... he could be King. And if that family, say the Boltons (though I'm not naming any names or making any promises) did that ... the boy king would need a regent. Oh look, here's Roose Bolton (not naming any names or making any promises).
So being the one true child on Robert Baratheon puts Lenora in danger of that sort of situation. A family who wants control of the Seven Kingdoms and would use Lenora and any sons she had to gain it. She wouldn't rule, honestly if the family was cruel they would just keep her pregnant repeatedly until they had enough heirs to guarantee that the succession was safe. And then once her son came of age they'd probably kill her.
And there you go, my long winded explanation of my thought process. If anyone is still reading I hope that clears some things up.
Now on with the chapter!
Chapter sixteen: Blood and Sweat and Steel
Catelyn
The woods were whispering to her. She supposed that was how they had gotten their name. The Whispering Wood, where the trees were full of whispers and moonlight. The whispers did not frighten Catelyn as she sat on her horse, beside Lenora, waiting for them to return. Waiting for whoever them meant.
The two ladies were surrounded by guards, Robb had insisted. He had wanted fifty men to guard his mother and his betrothed when he went to battle. Catelyn had told him that ten would be sufficient. Lenora had only wanted a sword, she had sworn she could protect them herself. In the end they had settled on thirty men. Neither Robb, nor Catelyn, nor Lenora were happy.
Hallis Mollen had requested to lead the group, it was his right as the Head of the Guard of Winterfell and Robb had not refused the man, though it was Ser Willum, the knight who had been tasked with guarding Lenora who stood closest to the princess's black charger.
Lenora no longer sat in the saddle, she had been fidgeting too much, unaccustomed to waiting. Catelyn had raised her eyebrows at that, sure that a princess would be taught patience, but then she realized that Lenora had probably never waited on anything. She had been raised for the first part of her life by Jaime Lannister, a man who her uncle, the Blackfish, had sworn never learned patience himself and was unlikely to pass it down to his charge; and then when finally returned to her family the little princess had most likely been spoiled by the father who had missed her so much.
Catelyn on the other hand was used to waiting. Her men had always made a habit of making her wait for them. First her father, then Brandon Stark, and then Ned Stark and now she waited on her son Robb. She waited and hoped for her son to come back to her in one piece.
He had left them hours ago in the woods, but she could still remember the preparations as if they had just happened. If he was frightened, he had given no sign of it. He had moved around his soldiers: touching their shoulders, joking with some, praying with others, calming the anxious horse of at least one.
He wore armor and mail over his entire body, only his head was left bare. He had wanted to make sure that as many of his men saw him before the battle as he could. Catelyn had looked away from her son, aware of the precious chance of seeing him alive she was giving him up to look at the princess beside her.
Lenora had been quiet since the day they had arrived at the Twins and Robb and Walder Frey had struck their deal. The princess had changed since she had last seen her at Winterfell gone was the beautiful smile and easy laughter; she had been smart enough to realize that she was a hostage and while she was not thrilled at the prospect she had tried to make the best of it. Until she had learned that Robb meant to give her younger sister and brother to Walder Frey in order to cross the Green Fork and that he intended to keep his betrothal to her.
The girl never smiled now. She never laughed. She didn't talk to Robb's men as she had once done. She barely ate, if the bags under her eyes were any indication she didn't sleep. She rode silently beside Ser Willum when Robb's host moved. She dismounted when she was told. Went to her tent when she was told. Mounted her horse again the next morning and rode when she was told. She rode by Robb's side; walked by Robb's side; ate, what little she did, by Robb's side. But the familiarity that had been growing between the two of them at Winterfell was gone now.
And now, more than ever, Catelyn realized just how much the young woman took after her mother. She was hard, cold, and icy like the North, but she was every bit Cersei Lannister, a few inches shorter with Robert Baratheon's dark hair and grey eyes.
The princess had watched Robb move among his men with stormy grey eyes. Catelyn had longed to know what the young woman was thinking, but had not dared to ask. It turned out that she didn't need to, Lenora volunteered the information.
"He's a genius," the young princess had told her, her voice little more than a whisper. "This whole time he has me thinking that he was going to march his entire host against my grandfather. And this whole time it had neither been my place nor my inclination to tell him how foolish that would be. And now it appears that was never his plan. Split your host, put an uncrossable river between Tywin and Jaime Lannister. Attack the son at night, the father the next morning. Catch one by surprise and hope to hold your own against the other." She was talking to herself, that much was clear, but Catelyn listened to every word.
"It's something even my battle-tested grandfather wouldn't think of," Lenora had added, a tone of awe and maybe even respect coloring her words, no matter how unbidden the feelings were.
The night was warm and the wind ruffled his auburn hair as he and his giant wolf Grey Wind walked among his men. Catelyn had closed her eyes in a brief prayer that the Gods would bring her son back to him. That they would let him grow old, see his own children grow, and die warm in a bed. When she opened her eyes she noted that Lenora's eyes were closed as well, she was praying too.
They were praying for different things. So Catelyn forgot her prayer to the new Gods and prayed to the old ones instead - the Gods of her husband, her children, the Gods of Winterfell and the North. One way or another the night's battle would prove who was stronger: Robb or the Kingslayer, the North or the South, the Old Gods or the New.
The two woman had sat on their horses side by side as Robb mounted his own. Walder Frey's son, Olyvar, held his horse steady for him. The new squire strapped Robb's shield in place and handed his helm up to him. Robb held the helm in his left hand, his horse's reins in his right, he did not put it on right away. Instead he rode up to his mother and his bride-to-be to say his farewells.
"I must ride down the line, Mother," he told her, still mounted on his horse, "Father says that you must let your men see you before a battle. That it will give them courage."
"Go then," Catelyn had given him her blessing. "Let them see you."
Robb turned his attention on Lenora, and for the princess he climbed down from his horse. He left his shield strapped to his arm, but placed his helm on the ground so that he could hold his left arm out to the young woman. "Nora," he had asked, his tone almost pleading when the stubborn princess had not immediately climbed down from her horse.
Lenora sighed, but gave him her hand and allowed him to pull her down. His brows were furrowed, his face full of concern for her when he had whispered, "I cannot promise that he will not be injured, but I can promise you that we will not kill your uncle. He will become our prisoner."
"You better try to kill him," Lenora told Robb, shaking her head. "Because Gods know that he will kill you if you don't."
Robb looked down toward the men, where the group that had been assembled by his mother and his bannermen waited for him. They were calling him the Young Wolf and many of the lords bannermen's sons had volunteered for the task of guarding him. There were two Karstarks, a Mallister, Smalljon Umber, a Hornwood, Theon Greyjoy and at least twenty more. And Grey Wind shadowing every one of his steps. "I'd like to see him try," he murmured to her.
"He's the Young Lion, to your Young Wolf. He was the youngest to ever be made part of the Kingsguard. Fifteen years old when he was raised up. Do you think my grandfather bought him that honor?" Lenora asked him. She shook her head, not waiting for an answer, "No. Jaime earned it with blood, and sweat, and steel. And during this battle he will try his hardest to bring me your head."
Her statement was not a threat. It was a promise. Her uncle would try to bring her Robb's head. She never said if she wished for it or not. The girl was smart, she was hedging her bets. If her uncle won the battle she could tell him that she had known he would and recount this conversation. If Robb won, well Catelyn was sure that Jaime would try to kill him so the girl would be right either way.
Robb had not taken offense to her statement, though Ser Willum had bristled at Lenora's side. He had chuckled and shaken his head at her. Even leaning down and pressing his lips against the corner of Lenora's lips. "When I come back, we will marry," he promised her, his voice a hushed whisper. "I won't make you wait long, I promise."
And then he had gone, to ride among his men, to lead them through the trees and to a battle that Catelyn could only guess at the end of. And he had left his two women to wait for him.
Lenora was sitting on the ground, her dark skirts flared out around her, a pile of dark blue flowers in her lap. She had gathered them after Catelyn had suggested that she dismount and walk to keep from fidgeting. Catelyn had not paid much attention the flowers the girl had gathered while she was gathering them. But now she looked.
Lenora was stringing them together, making a flower crown. She had been working on it for almost an hour and it was almost complete. Catelyn squinted through the dark at the flowers, a cloud that had been blocking moon light blew away after a moment or two and lit up the woods. The flowers were a bluish-purple and looked hooded. Catelyn gasped and quickly ordered Lenora to drop the flowers. The girl had not stopped stringing the flowers together, but she had looked up at Catelyn with raised eyebrows, silently wondering what had her so worried. "Those flowers are Wolf's Bane," Catelyn had told her. "They will kill you."
Lenora had smiled sweetly at her and lifted her flower crown, placing it atop her dark hair. "I studied plants under Grand Maester Pycelle," she told Catelyn. "He tried to stay away from the poisonous ones, he could not imagine a reason for why a princess would need to know about poison, but he taught me about Wolf's Bane. You see, my uncle Tyrion told me that when I was a baby a Targaryen spy tried to poison me. They almost succeeded." She gestured to the dark blue crown atop her head. "They used Wolf's Bane. What most people don't realize is that there are many species of Wolf's Bane. This one - Atis Root is completely harmless. I could even feed it to Grey Wind and it wouldn't do a thing. It's been my favorite flower ever since I learned how to identify it."
Catelyn studied the girl, she certainly wasn't acting as though she had been poisoned. She must have been right. She remembered when the queen had told her about when Lenora had been poisoned, Cersei had never told her that it had been Wolf's Bane.
"It's curious," Catelyn murmured.
"What's curious?" Lenora asked, she had stood from the ground and was now braiding the dark blue flowers into her horse's mane so that they would match.
"That when you were a baby you were poisoned and almost murdered with Wolf's Bane. And now you are betrothed to a Stark of Winterfell. It's as if you were always meant to be a wolf."
Lenora glanced up at her, her grey eyes glinting and for a moment Catelyn was struck with how similar she looked to Lyanna Stark. "No," Lenora told her, shaking her head. "I was meant to be a lion. Like my mother."
-.-.-.-.-
Robb
He had left his mother and Lenora high on a ridge, well above where he planned for the battle to take place. He had no fear that if the Lannisters won they would keep Lenora safe, but there was no promise for his mother. And he wanted them both safe.
Safe. And high up. And far away from the battle taking place in a tree covered valley in the forest below them.
They had lured the Kingslayer and his men into the valley. Lured them into a trap with a few hundred men raiding the Kingslayer's host and carrying Tully banners. The Blackfish, his uncle, had sworn to him that Jaime Lannister would find it impossible not to go with his men when they searched for the raiders. And he had been right.
Robb could feel the anger rising in his chest as he watched, hidden in the trees, as the Kingslayer led his men through the woods, the moonlight glinting off his golden hair, turning it silver. He did not even wear a helm, that was how sure he was of victory.
They would teach him a lesson about that tonight, he promised himself silently.
The Lannister men and some of Lord Tywin's bannermen marched into the valley. And Robb and his men waited in the dark. It did not take long, a matter of a few minutes before Maege Mormont blew her war horn in the East, signaling that the last of the Kingslayer's men had entered the trap.
From his spot, hidden in the trees, Robb could see the way the Lannister men's heads turned east, looking for an attack, sure that one was coming from behind them.
Grey Wind threw his head back and howled, his howl echoed off the ridges of the valley, seeming to come from all directions at once.
The Greatjon added the sound of his own war horn to the chaos. The Frey's and the Mallister's blew their own horns from the South and the West.
And North, Lord Karstark blew his. Signaling to the Lannister men below that they were surrounded on all sides.
The Kingslayer's men began shouting, their horses reared and cried at the noise. The Kingslayer slammed his helm on his head, finally, and tried to gain control of his men, yelling orders to them and telling them to prepare for battle.
But it was not so easy to ready men for battle when they were caught by surprise in the dark, surrounded on all sides, and a giant direwolf howled in their ears.
The spot for the ambush had been well picked. With the way the walls of the three ridges closed in on the valley below sound acted strangely. Robb could hear the whispers of men in his ears, both his own and Lannisters. And the sound of Grey Wind's howl would be in every man's ear, making him sure that the giant wolf was just behind him, ready to attack.
The archers that Robb had ordered to hide in the trees, released their arrows almost simultaneously, the sound of one hundred bows sighing out a breath in unison as their arrows landed in the valley below; some sinking into the ground, some into flesh.
The battle had just begun and the field was already full of the screams and wails of agony that came with dying men.
Robb raised his sword high above his head so that it glinted silver in the moonlight and yelled, "Winterfell!" before he spurred his horse into a gallop and began to lead his men down into the valley below them.
It was complete chaos, all around him as he and his men rushed to the fight below. Some were ready to kill, others to die. But all were ready to fight.
Swords were clashing everywhere around him competing with the yells of Winterfell and Lannister. Tully and Riverrun!
Robb's white horse cut through the men on the ground, Grey Wind ran beside him. Between his sword and his wolf Robb was sure that no harm would come to him. Even as a Lannister man swung his sword and gutted his horse in one swing.
Robb launched himself off of the falling horse and though he had stumbled a bit on the landing no one would remember that because he had also managed to ram his sword under the lip of the soldier's helm and embed the metal in the man's throat.
The guard his mother and his bannermen had insisted on cheered as he wrenched his sword from the man's neck and they continued forward, many of them now on foot, slashing and cutting their way through men and horse. Looking for the Kingslayer.
Grey Wind ran beside him, snarling and biting his way through. Ripping off arms and legs, tearing out throats as he went. Whenever he got too far away Robb would call him back with a soft, but forceful call of, "To me!" He wondered how Grey Wind knew who their friends and enemies were because in all the dark and all the blood, the wolf never got it wrong.
"Robb!" Theon yelled from somewhere to his right, a warning. Instinctively Robb threw up his shield arm a matter of seconds before a Lannister sword landed on it, cutting through the wolf face that had been painted on it not too long ago. But the shield had done its job and Robb was uninjured with the exception of a bruise that he could already feel forming on his forearm.
He could not allow his mind to wander, he realized, turning toward the Lannister man and advancing on him, meeting the knight strike for strike with his sword. Until, with one lucky swipe at the man's sword hand he managed to disarm him. The man fell to his knees, begging for mercy, but he would not get any. Robb's sword cut through the man's chain mail and drove deep into his chest.
It was too early in the battle to take hostages.
Men yelled and cursed all around him as the battle raged on. Grey Wind snarled and growled, his teeth snapping loudly as he tore flesh from bone on men and horse alike. It seemed as though they had been fighting for just a few minutes and it felt like hours since the battle had begun at the same time.
And then finally, in the middle of the valley, covered in other men's blood he finally found him. The Kingslayer.
He had removed his helm, a bold move, though there was no way that any of Robb's men would be able to get close to him, he realized. He watched as the blonde knight swung his great sword and almost cut one of the Mormont men in half from the top of his head down to his gut.
Although, thanks to Stannis' letter Robb knew that Lenora was the only one of the queen's children who actually belonged to the king. Even though he knew that there was no way that Jaime could be Lenora's father. He saw some of her in the Kingslayer's fight. Or maybe he saw some of the Kingslayer in what he could remember of Lenora's fighting.
He could see why a young princess might watch her uncle fight and decide that she too wanted to be knight.
There was a certainty, a precision, a magic to his swings. Robb watched as one of Karstark's sons rushed forward to fight against him. The fight did not last long, in a matter of minutes the Kingslayer had grounded Lord Karstark's son with a casual swing of his sword, cutting off Torrhen's sword hand. Robb gasped, he had seen that move before, Lenora had used it on one of the wild men that had attacked his brother back at Winterfell.
"Where are you?" he called out, his tone taunting. "Have you held back? Are you too much a coward to face me? Will my niece be fighting all your battles?"
Robb shifted, almost bouncing on the balls of his feet. He wanted to move forward, to step into the Kingslayer's line of sight, but Daryn Hornwood stopped him, moving forward instead. "No, My Lord," the man had told him. "Let me."
Moonlight glinted off steel as the two men clashed their swords. Daryn Hornwood was giving the fight everything he could, the Kingslayer looked a bit like a bored child, playing with his food. He yelled Robb's name, as if to make sure that he was watching before he swung his sword over his head and brought it down on Daryn's head, cutting it in half, helm and all.
"I know you're close," the Kingslayer yelled, moving further up the hill toward Robb. "I've seen your wolf. I remember Winterfell, that beast never left your side. Maybe I should just cut off the monster's head, would that draw you out?"
Grey Wind growled beside Robb and started to move forward, but Robb called him back. "To me," he ordered the wolf. "To me." The wolf seemed to glare at him balefully, but he listened to Robb's command.
The Kingslayer kept coming, slashing through men as came. And then, he stood in front of Robb. "There he is," the blonde knight yelled, his arms flying out to the sides. His sword hand came forward to point at Robb's chest, the tip of the blade no more than a foot away from him. "The Young Wolf, they're calling you. At least you're not hiding behind your mother's skirts." He looked at Robb, raising his eyebrows and waiting. "We can end this right now, boy," Jaime offered him without even sparing a look to the man who now lay on the forest floor at his feet, clutching his bleeding stump. "Stand up against me. You for your army, me for mine. Trial by combat. One death instead of thousands. I promise to make it quick."
Robb shook his head and took a step forward, raising his sword to meet Jaime's, "No, Kingslayer," he said. "Because if we do it your way you will win." He pulled his sword back and swiped, trying to catch the older man in the stomach. Jaime jumped back, quick as a cat, unharmed. Robb glared at him, "We're not going to do it your way."
The Kingslayer chuckled, "Fine then, tell me, since you've seen her more recently than I have. Would my niece prefer me to bring her your head, or your dogs?"
It had been a taunt, a jest to make him lash out, to make a mistake, Robb was sure of it. But before he could respond Eddard Karstark pushed forward to meet the man and engage his sword. Eddard held his own for longer than his brother or Daryn. But in the end the Kingslayer still won, embedding his sword so deep in the young Karstark's neck that when the young man's body fell to the ground, the sword went with him.
Jaime Lannister stooped to pull the sword out of the man's neck, but stopped when he heard Grey Wind's growl. He looked up through some sweaty strands of his hair to see Grey Wind no more than a foot from him, his teeth barred, ready to fight. His green eyes shifted to the left and the right to see ten swords pointed at him.
The man was no coward, but he was not an idiot either. He knew when he had been beat. He stood up straight, his hands held up in surrender, "I surrender," he told Robb.
Robb accepted his surrender, ordering Theon to bind the Kingslayer's hands and hold him hostage. Then he had nodded at one of the Frey's who started to blow a higher pitched horn than war horns from the beginning of the battle. The signal that the fight had finished.
He pushed past the Kingslayer, his shoulder hitting the knight's armor to check on Torrhen Karstark. He had only cut off his arm and Robb hoped that the man would still be alive.
When he found him on the ground there was blood, too much of it. The young man groaned, still alive, but just barely. He heard the Kingslayer laugh, cruel and humorless from behind him. "Do him a favor and kill him, boy," he suggested. "He won't make it through the night as it is."
Robb knew he was right and as much as he hated taking the Kingslayer's advice he pulled a small dagger from his side and turning Torrhen's head away so that he wouldn't see it coming he drove the dagger through his neck, just below his helm and killed him.
A red dawn was breaking in the East as Robb stood and moved toward Theon and the Kingslayer. "Tell me," Jaime drawled out, "Just tell me how she's doing?" His voice was slow and bored as if he did not care about the answer either way, but his green eyes were sharp and urgent. "Is Lenora being well cared for? Is she safe?"
"I don't owe you anything." Robb growled at him. And for a moment he thought about not telling him anything, but he knew man would see for himself soon enough that Lenora was fine. And he wanted the Kingslayer to suffer. "She is safe for now, Kingslayer," he told the knight in front of him, stepping closer to him so that he could whisper in his ear. "I've kept her fed, and safe, and protected her honor from men at camp who would have raped her and killed her in the same night. But who knows? With you as our prisoner, I might bed her tonight. Maybe she will scream loud enough that you will hear her from wherever we cage you."
-.-.-.-.-
Lenora
Waiting for the battle to end had been torture. Lenora spent a great deal of time fidgeting in Casterly's saddle before Lady Catelyn had suggested that she get off of her horse to calm her nerves.
The moving had helped for a time, until she realized that if she was quiet she could hear sounds from the battle below. She had turned away from the edge of the ridge and noticed a patch of dark blue flowers growing at the base of a tree. Wolf's bane. Upon closer inspection she had recognized it as Atis Root, one of the only species of wolf's bane that was not poisonous.
She had picked as much of it as she could and sat on the ground, braiding and twisting, and weaving it into a flower crown. She had felt Lady's Catelyn's eyes on her several times while she worked and she knew that the older woman must have thought that she was terrible. That she was callus. She was making a flower crown like it was an early spring day while men were dying in the dark in the valley below.
What the older woman did not realize was that Lenora had simply been looking for something to do with her hands to ease her worry. That with every flower she added to the crown she said a prayer for the men fighting below.
They were mixed prayers, she wasn't sure what outcome she wanted from the battle. She would say a prayer for her uncle's safety and then she would match it with one for Robb. And so it continued all the way around the crown: Jaime, Robb, Jaime, Robb, Jaime, Robb. Her family or the man she could have loved.
The fighting finally ended as day broke in the East. And all Lenora and Catelyn could do was wait at the top of the ridge One way or another they would soon know who won. Lenora knew that she was safe either way: if Robb won he meant to marry her to spite her family, if Jaime won then he would take her back to King's Landing. Lady Catelyn was not so lucky. She would only be safe if Robb won.
Robb came back to them on a different horse. The wolf's head painted on his shield was slashed, raw wood showing in deep gashes through the paint. But Robb, himself, seemed to be unharmed. That was until he rode closer to them, his mailed glove and the sleeve of his surcoat were black and sticky with blood.
Before she could stop herself, not even sure if she wanted to stop herself Lenora rushed forward on foot, grabbing the reins of his horse to steady the creature as Robb jumped down. "You're hurt," she said softly, not wanting to embarrass him in front of his men.
Robb had smiled grimly at her concern and shook his head as he handed his horse's reins to one of the stablehands. "It's not my blood," he told her as he grabbed her hand and began to gently pull her toward his mother.
Lenora stood strong though, she was not going to allow him to distract her until she was sure that he was all right. She grabbed his hand and lifted it closer to her face, letting the early dawn light land on it. Robb sighed, but he humored her, opening and closing his fingers so that she could see that his hand still worked. "This is ... Torrhen's blood."
Only then did Lenora allow him to lead her toward his mother. He looked down at her, studying her face, "Tell me, Nora," he asked her, his voice grim. "Is this concern for me self-serving? Are you trying to align yourself with me now that you know that I've won the battle? Now that you know you are to be my hostage for a bit longer?"
Lenora was quiet for a moment, honestly thinking about the answer to his question before she voiced it. "I don't know," she finally told him. "At different points throughout the night I wished that you would win or lose. It varied by the minute," she shook her head, trying to make sense of how she was feeling. "I only know that no matter what I did not want you hurt."
"No?" Robb asked her, he seemed honestly surprised by that. Lenora nodded. Robb reached for her head, his fingers playing with the flower crown that still rested on her head. He took it off her head and held it in his hand. "And what is this?" he asked her.
Lenora shrugged her shoulders, "Something to do with my hands since you won't put a sword in them."
Robb looked as though he wanted to say more, but Lenora had looked over his shoulder and caught sight of the mob of soldiers and knights and bannermen who were climbing the crest of the hill now. At the front were Theon Greyjoy and the Greatjon, dragging her uncle between them. "Uncle Jaime," she gasped out, meaning to run to him.
Instead of holding her arm Robb caught her around the stomach with his forearm and held her back. "Now is not the time," he told her, his blue eyes darting to the men around them, the men that would have been suspicious if the princess had been allowed to run to her uncle's side.
Lenora did not care if now was the time or not. Just as she had needed to check on Robb to make sure that he was all right she needed to check on her uncle. But Robb's restraining grip on her did not lessen and after almost a minute of struggling against him Lenora had stopped. Fighting him wasn't going to get her what she wanted, but behaving might.
He pulled her beside her horse and with two hands on her waist lifted her into the saddle. Theon and the Greatjon dragged Jaime up to them and dropped him to the ground in between Catelyn's horse and Casterly.
"The Kingslayer," Hallis Mollen announced though neither lady needed the introduction.
Jaime looked up, first to Lady Catelyn as expected, "Lady Stark," he greeted from his knees. Blood ran down one cheek from a gash in his forehead and Lenora's hands clenched at Casterly's reins, itching to jump down from her horse again and to wipe the blood from her uncle's face. To examine the gash for herself. To ensure that her uncle was just as safe and unharmed as Robb was.
But Robb put a restraining hand on her leg, a silent warning that she was to stay put.
"I would offer you my sword, but I seem to have mislaid it," Jaime told Lady Catelyn. Once he had said that his green eyes darted to Lenora. She watched as he scanned her face, her body, looking for any injuries, any signs of mistreatment. She saw the way his eyes narrowed when his gaze landed on Robb's hand on her thigh. She tried to give him a reassuring smile, to let him know that despite the situation she was not being mistreated. His jaw clenched.
"It is not your sword I want," Catelyn told him, drawing his gaze back to her. "Give me my father and my brother Edmure. Give me my daughters. Give me my Lord Husband back."
Jaime grimaced slightly, "I have mislaid them as well, I fear."
"Pity," Catelyn told him, her voice as cold as Winterfell.
"Kill him Robb!" Theon urged.
Lenora gasped and leaned forward on her horse, meaning to what? She didn't know, but if she could only get between her uncle and these men she thought she might be able to save him. Robb patted her leg, almost soothingly, as he said, "No. He's more use alive then dead. And my father never condoned the murder of prisoners after a battle."
"Take him away and put him in irons," Catelyn commanded.
Robb nodded, "Do as my Lady Mother commands," he told his men. "And make certain there's a strong guard around him, Lord Karstark will want his head on a spike."
Lenora watched quietly as her uncle was led away. Short of the gash on his forehead he seemed uninjured. She would go to him and make sure though. "Why would Lord Karstark want his head?" she asked quietly, her eyes never leaving her uncle's golden hair as it glinted in the early morning sun.
"He killed them," Robb told her, his voice both quiet and hard. An iron fist in a velvet glove. "Karstark's sons."
"No one will ever be able to fault Lannister on his courage," Lord Glover interjected. "When it seemed to him that the battle could be lost he alone fought his way up the valley hoping to find Lord Robb and cut him down. He almost did."
"He mislaid his sword in Eddard Karstark's neck. After he cut off Torrhen's hand and split Daryn Hornwood's skull open, that is. All the while he was shouting for me. If they hadn't tried to stop him -"
"That was their job," Catelyn interjected. "They died doing what they had sworn to do, protecting their liege lord. Morn them, honor them, but not now. We have won a battle, not the war."
"But what a battle it was!" Theon interjected. "My Lady the realm has not seen such a victory since the Field of Fire! I vow that the Lannister's lost ten men for every one of ours! They will write songs about the Battle of Whispering Woods!"
"Aye," Robb agreed with him, "but the dead won't hear them." He turned to look at Lenora, his blue eyes scanning her face as if trying to memorize it. "You'll want to see him, I suspect." A statement, not a question. Lenora nodded. "I'll take you to him."
He grabbed the reins of her horse and led him back to their camp. Lenora expected him to take her to a tent much like her own, one with a guard outside. But instead he took her past all the tents, past where the horses were kept, near the very edge of the camp.
And there he was, her golden lion of an uncle, laying in the mud, his hands chained, in an iron cage that was too small for him to stand in. "Uncle Jaime," Lenora whispered, as she climbed down from Casterly. She started to rush toward the cage, but stopped and turned to look at Robb, anger welling in her chest. She walked back toward him, "You're keeping him locked in a cage like an animal?" she growled at him.
Robb shrugged his shoulders, "Seemed like the most appropriate space for him," he told her. "Karstark would have my head if I gave him anything more comfortable."
"Your sister is being well cared for in King's Landing," Lenora pointed out. "She'll still have ladies and she'll be allowed to move freely around with a guard. And you put my uncle in a cage?"
"And what of my father?" Robb asked, his voice harsh. "Is he being well cared for?" Lenora had no answer for that, at least not one that Robb would want to hear. She knew where they put traitors in the Red Keep, a cage was better. Robb shook his head, no doubt reading the look on Lenora's face for what it was. "He killed Jory, and the rest of my father's men. He attacked my father."
Lenora felt sympathy for Robb then, but she would not allow it to color or soften her feelings for him now. "You have no honor!" she told him, her voice little more than a whisper, though she knew he could hear every word. "Whatever you feel about him. What ever he's done. Whether you are at war or not! He is the son of a lord, he is a knight! You don't cage him like an animal! Put him in a dungeon at one of your lords bannermen's castles! I am sure they would all volunteer for the honor of imprisoning the Kingslayer."
She had used her uncle's nickname to drive home her point, but it tasted horrible on her tongue.
Robb shook his head, "It would be too risky," he told her. "What if whatever Lord I choose gets greedy and sells him back to your grandfather? I will not lose the Kingslayer."
"Then give him a tent and a guard like me!"
Robb chuckled, dark and humorless, "Your uncle would need more than one guard. If you haven't noticed, princess, we are at war. I cannot spare the men."
Lenora shook her head, "My uncle might be the one who is treated like an animal," she told him, glaring at the man in front of her. "But it is you, Robb Stark, who deserves the cage."
She watched as a dark look flitted across Robb's face, he took a step closer to her, "You think that your uncle is so honorable?" he asked her, his voice little more than an angry hiss. "Ask him. Ask him about a certain letter that we received. Ask him about his honor. And you will find he is not the honorable knight that you think he is."
Lenora rolled her eyes, "If you're talking about how he got that horrible nickname, I already know his story. And if you knew everything that had happened I'm sure you would have done the same thing."
Robb shook his head, "I'm not talking about how he got the name Kingslayer. I'm talking about something else entirely."
Author's Note:
BOOM! I've been very excited about this chapter for a long time. And I hope that I did it justice. I really do. What did you think? Let me know in that awesome box down there! I'd love to hear it!
Thank you for taking the time to stop by and read. I really hope that you enjoyed this chapter. An even BIGGER thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter. Men will write songs about you and your selfless reviews. I'm sure of it!
ZabuzasGirl: Glad you liked the last chapter and I hope you liked this one as well!
RHatch89: Once again thank you for your review! In case you missed it I answered it up at the top of the story because I figured that it was information that everyone might need. Thank you for the question though, if you have any more let me know. I love giving long-winded answers about my thought processes. (And I promise, that was not sarcastic, even though the internet likes to make that statement sound that way!)
DannyBlack70: Yay you're back! I had worried that you had left us. I'm glad you liked the last two chapters and I hope that you enjoyed this one too. Things are really picking up now. I think ... I'd have to check what I've got written, but not published, but I think it'll be another two chapters before we see Lenora's reaction to Stannis' letter. But I think it's a good one.
Raging Raven: There you go, the start of the reunion between Jaime and Lenora. The real bulk of the reunion takes place in the next chapter though.
Nagtooth: Hello guest friend. Your review was for chapter one, but I'm thinking maybe you got to this chapter. So here's where I'll answer it. Thank you! I'm glad that you think that I'm a good writer. That means a lot. And thank you for the criticisms as well. No hurt feelings, I promise.
I know that the Stark family (specifically Robb or Jon and a Baratheon princess) are a bit of a cliche or a trope. But I like it and this is just where my head went (probably because I think Richard Madden is beautiful and I love his accent) and I'm hoping that by the time this story is done I will have done enough to make it original despite its cliche and very much my own.
That's all I've got for now! And for those of you that remember the week before last, my work week starts tomorrow. I might be able to post a chapter before I go to work tomorrow morning, it really depends on what my hours are ... I should really check on those.
If I don't ... fear not! Lenora and I will be back the Monday after next!
Until then,
Chloe Jane.