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My name is Chloe Jane and my suggested youtube videos looks a lot like a Lannister wedding. "Rains of Castamere" EVERYWHERE.
Chapter Nineteen: King in the North
Lenora
Something had changed between Robb and Lenora, but she couldn't put her finger on it. He was nicer to her now, kinder - but there was a wall between them. A low one, an old one, a wall that could have been knocked down easily if she cared enough to try. But she couldn't say that she did care enough. She knew he was hurt - she hadn't expected that, but it was true. She had thought that he would have appreciated that she was finally his true wife, but it had hurt him.
It took her a week to realize that Robb was hurt by the fact that she had consummated their marriage not because she loved him, but to save herself from a worse fate with a different family. When she first read the letter from her uncle Stannis she had believed that Robb had told her that he loved her and married her because he had wanted to be tied to Robert's only true heir. But when she realized that she had hurt him she also realized that she had been wrong.
Robb had married her to keep her safe.
Robb had married her to protect her.
Robb had married her for love.
And she had taken all that love and thrown it back in his face when she had used him to save her own skin. Yes, they were a true husband and wife now, but she wasn't acting like a wife. She was acting like her mother. When she was still talking to her uncle Jaime he had warned her not to listen to her mother, not to take Cersei's advice. And when she had sex with Robb she had done the opposite. Her mother would be proud.
But all Lenora felt was ashamed.
And now he was in more pain.
Her poor Robb.
They were close to Riverrun, it would only be a few more days before they overtook the Lannister army surrounding the castle. Theon had been the one to shoot down the raven, flying toward Riverrun, to Lord Tulley to announce the news of Ned Stark's death.
Theon had been the first to read the announcement, he had read it silently, but the look on his face when he glanced up at Robb and then Lady Catelyn was all Lenora needed to know what sort of news the parchment carried.
Dark wings. Dark words.
She had thought it was one of the girls, probably Arya. Even in her darkest thoughts she had never imagined that her mother would have allowed Joffrey to have Lord Eddard Stark beheaded. Joffrey was an idiot, but her mother was not. She wondered how much control over her brother Cersei had lost since the last time she had seen her family.
She had sat quietly in their tent as Robb and his mother read the letter together. Catelyn's legs had given out before she was done reading and she had fallen to the ground, tears filling her eyes.
Robb's blue eyes had narrowed as he finished reading the letter. He had crumpled the letter in his fist and dropped it to the ground, lifting his gaze to hers. His jaw clenched and for a moment she thought that he would yell at her, strike her, something. But instead he shook his head and stormed out of the tent.
Lenora stayed where she was, he was angry and hurt and he didn't need the daughter of his enemy running after him. Even if she was his wife. She helped Catelyn off the ground and bundled the older woman up in her cloak. She quietly walked her mother in law to her tent, commanding her servant to fetch some hot wine for the woman. Catelyn had shook her head, silently refusing the wine.
But Lenora had shushed her, she did not know the specific pain the woman was suffering, but she knew that nothing would soothe her now. The only thing she could do for the woman was to warm her up and hopefully help her to sleep.
The wine came and though Catelyn had refused it she drank when Lenora told her to drink and she allowed the younger woman to steer her toward her bed. Lenora spent a half hour with Catelyn; slowly convincing the woman to lay down, covering the woman with her blankets, and sitting with her, holding her hand as she cried herself to sleep.
Only once Catelyn was sleeping did Lenora leave the tent. The camp was alive with whispers of the news. Theon had not waited long before he had told Robb's bannermen. Ned Stark was dead. Joffrey had beheaded him on the steps of the Great Sept after he had begged for mercy. He was still betrothed to Sansa, though Lenora had a feeling that it would not last, Joffrey would rid himself of the Stark girl as soon as he realized that marrying her was not going to help him control her older brother.
She wandered the camp, looking for Robb. Many of the knights and lords she passed bowed low to her, greeting her with My Ladys and apologizing to her as if it were her own father that they had lost. If it weren't for the horrible fact that one of the most honorable men in the Seven Kingdoms had been beheaded like a traitor it would have amused Lenora that more of these Northern Lords were apologizing to her now than they had when she had lost her father.
This, more than anything, told her that they truly did see her as one of their own. She was no longer a Southern Princess. She was a Northern Lady, their Northern Lady. It hit her suddenly, she was now Lenora Stark, Lady of Winterfell. She felt tears spring to her eyes at the thought. She had not known Ned Stark as well as she would have liked. But she knew he was a good man, a brave and honorable man and that he had not deserved the end Joffrey had given him.
She found Robb in the woods, still dressed in his mail and armor. He was yelling and using his sword to hack away at a tree in front of him. If it weren't for his pain she would have lectured him, yelled at him even for mistreating his sword, for ruining it. But she would not fault him for how he dealt with his pain. She could not fault him for it.
She stood, there, amidst the trees, watching him as he swung his sword over and over again at the tree in front of him. He had ruined his sword, he was going to need it, he planned on marching on the Lannister army that surrounded his grandfather's castle the next morning and they would need every sword that they had. This one would not be usable anymore. Her heart broke as she watched tears sliding down his cheeks with each slash and stab at the tree trunk. He was heartbroken and she was sure that he did not want her sympathy, but it was all she had to give.
"Robb," she called out to him quietly, trying to get his attention. He didn't look up, he continued swinging and yelling. "Robb," she tried again. More tears filling her own eyes, overflowing and sliding down her cheeks. "Robb Stark!" she tried one final time, raising her voice above the sound of the metal hitting the tree.
This time he looked up at her. And she had to bite back a sob of her own as she saw his tearstained cheeks. She couldn't cry in front of him, she had to be strong. It would not be fair to him to have him feel as though he needed to shoulder her pain as well as his own. It would have been cruel. She moved a step closer to him, her hand reaching out toward him. "I am so sorry, Robb," she told him, her voice little more than a whisper now that she had his attention. "For your father, for your mother, for you. I am so sorry."
He stood in front of her, watching her for a moment before he dropped his sword to the ground and moved closer to her. Lenora took a step away from him, unsure of what he was going to do. She would not have been surprised if the man raised his hand to hit her. But instead he crashed into her, his arms wrapping around her, crushing her cheek against his breastplate and holding her tight against him. Now, with his arms around her she could feel him shaking. In fact, her whole body shook from the force of his sobs.
She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her right hand lifting toward the top of his head so that she could run her fingers through his auburn curls. And she was sure that she had never wished for anything more than she now wished for the ability to turn back time, to take away his pain.
"I am so sorry," she whispered to him again, at a loss of what else she could say, what else she could do to ease some of his pain.
"I could kill them all," he told her and she felt one of his tears land on her forehead. "Every last one of them, I could kill them all."
She nodded, she understood his pain and she would not argue with him. She would not point out that them all was her entire family. She would not beg him to spare her family after her mother and brother had showed so little care for his own. "My love," she whispered, pausing for a moment, shocked at the endearment that had slipped from her lips. "They have your sisters. You have to get those girls back, for your mother." She paused again, unsure of what to say next, unsure of what she wanted or wished. "And then you may do whatever you wish with them," she promised him.
It was then that Robb seemed to realize who he was holding. He pulled away from her, frowning when he caught sight of her cheek. He reached his hand out, brushing his fingertips against her cheek, when he pulled them away they were wet and red with her blood. The metal of his breastplate had dug into her skin when he held her crushed against him. She was bleeding. "I'm sorry," he whispered to her, his voice rough with emotion.
Lenora shook her head, reaching one of her own hands up to wipe at the blood on her cheek. "It's nothing," she promised him, trying to force her voice to be light. "It's a scratch, I daresay I will see much worse than this by the end of everything."
"I'd say that it's a bit more than a scratch," Robb told her, his voice a little gentler. "And that wasn't what I meant," he added. "Your father died and I never even told you how sorry I was. I let you suffer and when you asked to send a raven to your family I forbade it." He shook his head, disappointed in himself. "I was horrible to you."
Lenora pursed her lips and nodded, she wasn't about to deny it to save his feelings, "You were a bit of a prick," she told him. "I won't lie to you, even today. But I will not blame you either."
Robb reached down, grabbing for one of her hands and interlacing his fingers with hers. "You are too good," he told her, his voice almost a whisper, "too good to me."
Lenora shook her head, "You have a pretty low standard for too good," she told him. "If acting like a human is too good to you."
Despite his pain Robb chuckled and shook his head, "I want to ask you something," he told her.
Lenora smiled softly at him, "Thank you for the warning," she told him, even now unable to hold back her sarcasm. "What do you need, Robb? Name it and it's yours."
"I need you," he told her, his voice both quiet and desperate.
"You have me," Lenora told him, shaking her head in confusion.
"No," Robb told her, shaking his head. "I need you."
"You have me, Robb," she told him. "I am your wife."
Robb shook his head again, "I don't want you if you're only doing so out of duty," he told her.
Lenora smiled softly at him, "I would never do something simply because of duty," she told him. "And if you think I would then you do not know me at all." She started to pull him out of the woods, intending to bring him back to their tent.
"I don't want you to do so because you feel sorry for me."
She paused, turning to look at the man behind her. "Then come along."
He followed her to their tent and once the flaps closed behind them he really did his best to seem excited by the prospect. He placed his hands on her hips and held her tight. He kissed her lips, but she knew that his heart was not in, not like it was on their first night together. He needed this, he needed her, but he could not bring himself to actively enjoy it.
She undressed him, slowly and carefully taking off his armor and placing it on its stand. She took off his shirt and untied his pants, her hands did not shake this night, she was more sure of herself. He seemed lost, as if he was unsure of what to do next. She kissed him and lowered him into a chair. Then, hoisting her skirts up she climbed on top of his lap, slowly lowering herself down on top of him, flinching slightly as she adjusted around him.
"You're still sore," Robb whispered, reaching up to stroke her cheek.
Lenora shook her head, the last thing she wanted was for him to worry about her. "I am fine, Robb," she told him. "I swear it."
She kissed him in earnest this time, allowing her tongue to slip between his lips and taste the inside of his mouth. She smiled slightly as his hands came back to her hips. He began to kiss her back and his hands helped guide her hips. Setting a pace that was much faster and rougher than she had intended.
It hurt a bit, though Lenora was not going to argue with what Robb wanted or needed. She rolled her hips against him, smiling wider when he groaned. He bit her lip, sucking it into his mouth, Lenora could not help but cry out. It was too much, for her. She had tried not to get lost in the sensations, this was for Robb, not for her, but it all felt too good, too real for her not to feel so much.
Robb's thrusts quickened, going deeper and as he came to a finish his hands tightened on her hips and he brought her crashing down on top of him, holding her tight to him as his thrusts slowed.
Lenora waited until he had stopped moving before she leaned forward, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose before she started to climb off of his lap. Robb's eyes darkened in concern as she flinched. "I'm sorry," he whispered to her as he watched her let her skirts fall to the ground.
"For what?" Lenora asked him, turning to look at him underneath her eyelashes.
"I used you," he told her, looking away ashamed. "I used you in a way no husband should use his Lady."
Lenora smiled at him softly, walking closer to him so that she could press a kiss against his lips, "I would consider us even then," she whispered against his lips alluding to the first night they had been together, when she had used him.
-.-.-.-.-
Robb
The boat rocked with the waves of the river as it moved quickly down the Tumblestone, the rowers were given a bit of a reprieve as the strong current of the river propelled the boat toward its destination. Riverrun.
Lenora had said the word as if it were some kind of magic spell. And he realized that to her maybe it was. She was a princess, the princess of the Seven Kingdoms and before she came to him the only places she had ever really seen were Casterly Rock and King's Landing.
Then she saw Winterfell.
And Moat Cailin.
And now, she was sitting with him and Theon at the bow of their boat, craning her neck, hoping to catch the first sight of Riverrun. She reached down absentmindedly to pet Grey Wind's head as she looked ahead, "Littlefinger has told me so much about the beauty of Riverrun," she told him. "At King's Landing. He used to go on and on about how beautiful and green this place was. At first I thought that it was because he wanted to talk to me. But I quickly learned the truth of it."
"And what was the truth?" Theon asked, leaning forward
Lenora turned her head slightly to smirk at Robb, her eyes sparkling almost playfully. "The truth of it is that Lord Baelish likes to hear the sound of his own voice. And he loves to talk about your mother."
Robb raised his eyebrows, "My mother?" he asked.
Lenora nodded, "He grew up here, a ward to your grandfather. He loved your mother and now, as an older man he relives their time together by talking about her whenever anyone will listen to him. Oh, he's sly about it. He talks about Riverrun, he talks about his time spent with both the Tully sisters, he never specifically says love and your mother's name in the same sentence. But you can hear it if you listen carefully enough."
She turned her gaze back to the river in front of them, "Littlefinger likes to play games," she continued, "he speaks too many words and speaks them so quickly that you're lost in the conversation as soon as it's begun. But his words didn't do this place justice."
Robb smiled at that, pleased that she liked Riverrun. "I was born here," he told her, his own gaze turning to the landscape in front of them.
Lenora turned to look at him, her eyebrows furrowed, "Not at Winterfell?" she asked him.
Robb shook his head, "My mother and my father were married shortly before our fathers marched against the Iron Islanders. My mother came here when she learned that she was pregnant and she had me here. I spent my first two years here and then at the end of the war Mother and I traveled to Winterfell to meet my father."
Lenora smiled sadly and reached out for his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. Robb smiled at her gratefully. Something had really changed between the two of them. He did not want to get his hopes up by believing that everything would be fine between them, but at least his wife did not hate him anymore. They were a team again, a pair, but they didn't talk about it.
And they needed to.
They could pretend that their families' battles were not their own. But the truth of the matter was that her brother had murdered his father. He could not forgive that or forget it. And one day he would get his revenge.
At the expense of her family.
But for now, after the death of his father, Lenora was being kind to him. And he wasn't going to let that go to waste.
He moved closer to her and instinctively she leaned in to him, her temple resting against his cheek. He turned his head slightly, pressing his lips against her cheek, "Are you happy?" he asked her, his lips brushing against her skin with each word.
He watched her as she closed her eyes and a sad smile slid onto her lips, "As happy as can be expected," she whispered to him, her eyes still closed. She opened her eyes and turned her head to look at him, "Oh no," she whispered, she must have seen something on his face, "you don't make me unhappy - at least not as much as I thought you would." She sighed and looked away, turning to glance over her shoulders at all the boats that followed their own down the Tumblestone. "It's just all of this," she told him, turning back to look at him.
"Not how you pictured your life?" Robb asked her.
Lenora smiled at him, "Is it how you pictured yours?" she parroted back at him.
He chuckled and shook his head, "No," he told her, his voice serious despite his laughter. "I assumed I would marry you, have a child or two, watch my father grow old, and become Lord of Winterfell once he had died an old man."
Lenora nodded, "Sounds a bit boring now, doesn't it?" she asked him.
"No," Robb told her, shaking his head, "it sounds wonderful."
"I don't know," Lenora told him with a nonchalant shrug of her shoulders, "I could stand to see a bit more of the Seven Kingdoms before we head back to Winterfell."
It was embarrassing for Robb to admit, even to himself, how pleased he was that Lenora considered her heading back to Winterfell as inevitable and that they were still a we. His happiness must have shown on his face because he heard Theon snort and he looked up to see his friend grinning at him as if he could read his mind. "Shut up," his hissed at his friend.
Theon opened his mouth, probably about to taunt him, but Lenora interrupted. She sat up a little straighter, her neck elongating, her shoulders tense. "Is that it?" she asked, coming up onto her knees to get a better look. "Is that it?" she asked again, turning her head to look at Robb for confirmation.
Robb nodded, he stood up from his seat and moved so that he was standing behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders. He leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear, "Welcome to Riverrun, Lady Stark," he whispered.
When the boat finally docked his mother had rushed off to see her father, many of Robb's men had gone to the hall for food and ale, Robb pressed a kiss against Lenora's cheek and told her to head to the hall. He would find her there, but first he would go to the Godswood. He had thought to go alone, but he was not the only one of his men who kept the Old Gods.
This wood was much smaller and much less wild than the one in Winterfell, but it would do. He found the Heart tree and knelt in front of it, thrusting the point of his new sword into the hard ground.
He closed his eyes and for a moment he was unsure of what to do. He had come to the Godswood because that is what his father would have done, he had hoped that being here would bring him some solace, some sense that his father was at peace. He had hoped to find some bit of the man who had raised him here. But all he found was a tree with a bloody face carved in it, a restless wind, and silence.
He heard movement to his left and he turned his head to see Lenora slowly and carefully making her way through the group that had followed him to the wood. She wanted to be near him, but she was trying her best not to disturb the others. She knelt beside him and turned her head to smile softly at him for a moment before she reached out for his hand. Once their fingers were interlaced she turned back to the tree and closed her eyes.
Robb kept his eyes open, he looked at the long line of the woman's neck, watching her pulse point where he was convinced he could see her heart beating underneath the skin. She must have felt his gaze on her because she opened her right eye, turning her head just enough to look at him. "You should be praying," she whispered to him. "There will be plenty of time for you to stare at me later."
Robb looked around to make sure that their whispers weren't disturbing anyone else. But his Lords Bannermen had given him enough space that he was sure they could not even hear them. "I don't know what to say," he admitted, his voice so quiet that the rustling leaves above his head completely shielded his words. He shook his head, "I had hoped to find my father here."
Lenora nodded, she had expected that, "And you did," she told him, turning back to the tree.
"If you don't think that he is with you right now than you are a fool, Robb Stark."
"What will you pray for?" Robb asked, turning the discussion away from him.
"I will pray for your father," Lenora told him. "And for mine. I will thank the Gods for keeping me safe so far, and for keeping you safe, and for watching over my uncles even if they are your enemies. I will pray for the people of Westeros who neither asked for this war nor needed it. I will ask the Gods to help this war end without any more unnecessary bloodshed. I will pray for your sisters and your brothers. I will ask for the Gods to watch Jon on the Wall and keep him safe. I will pray that my own younger siblings are treated well, despite what they are now. I will ask forgiveness for my mother and uncle. I will pray for Lord Karstark and his three sons. I will ask for mercy. And then I will be selfish and beg the Gods to grant me happiness at the end of it all, even though I am sure to lose something on one side or the other and I have done nothing to deserve that happiness."
Robb looked at her, "I like your prayers," he told her, squeezing her hand. "At least most of them."
Lenora smiled ruefully, "Well," she finally said, "you are more than welcome to borrow them, My Lord Stark. Maybe your Northern Gods will hear them better from your Northern heart than from my Southern one"
"I cannot believe that any of your prayers would fall on deaf ears," Robb assured her, "whether the ears are Northern or Southern, Old or New."
"You would be surprised," Lenora told him before she turned away, closing her eyes.
Robb left her alone with her prayers. He still had not found what he had hoped to find in the Wood, but he did find himself hoping that at least some of Lenora's prayers would be heard. Instead of praying he closed his eyes and brought forward images of his father, playing through all of his favorite memories of his father in his mind. He could remember when he had learned to ride a horse, when his father taught him to shoot a bow, the first time Ned had brought him to the Godswood in Winterfell, and when he had sat at the table with his father when he conducted his business, learning how to be Lord once his father had passed on. There were so many lessons that Ned Stark had taught his son, but there were so many more that he never got the chance to teach, always believing that there would be more time.
There was no more time now.
Robb would have to teach himself.
After a time he stood up from the ground and waited, his hand outstretched until Lenora finished her prayers and slipped her hand into his, allowing him to pull her off her knees. They turned together to leave the Godswood and he was surprised to see his mother standing away from the praying Lords, watching him and Lenora with tears in her eyes.
He squeezed Lenora's hand and pulled her along with him as he moved toward his mother, "Mother," he greeted her once they were standing in front of her. "We must call a council. There are things to be decided."
"Your grandfather would like to see you," Catelyn told him, her voice shaking. "Robb, he's very sick."
Robb nodded as Lenora squeezed his hand, a comforting gesture, "Ser Edmure told me. I am sorry, Mother ... for Lord Hoster and for you. Yet first we must meet. We've had word from the South. Renly Baratheon has claimed his brother's crown." Lenora gasped quietly beside him, it was news to her. She started to pull away from him, whispering that she would go to their chambers to rest, but Robb shook his head, "You will come to the council," he told her, his voice forceful.
"Is that wise?" Lenora whispered, turning her head to look at the Lords who were now rising from their own prayers. "You're fighting against my grandfather on my mother's side. And soon my uncles on my father's side if you're particularly unlucky. And there are still so many who would see me as an enemy."
Robb shook his head, "You are my wife," he told her. "You bear my last name. You sleep in my bed. You pray to my Gods. You mourn my father. Hopefully soon you will carry my children. You will sit on my council."
It looked as if tears were filling Lenora's grey eyes, but she quickly blinked them away. "Just so," she whispered with a nod, he would hear no further argument from her.
"Renly?" Catelyn asked, still surprised at what her son had said. "But Lord Stannis has already declared himself King. I would have thought that Renly would have declared for his brother."
"So did we all, My Lady," Galbart Glover told her, approaching their group. "But it seems that Renly would fancy his ass on the Iron Throne as well. And he does not mean to wait until his older brother dies to do it."
"He wouldn't," Lenora told them, her voice quiet as the group left the Godswood to walk to the Great Hall for their council meeting. "Uncle Renly has never held much respect for Uncle Stannis. The small folk love Renly, they do not love Stannis. Uncle Renly believes that the people's love is all he needs to deserve to be King."
The war council convened in the Great Hall at four long tables arranged in a square. Robb's uncle Edmure sat in the high seat of the Tully's as his father, Lord Hoster, was too sick and too weak to leave his quarters. The Blackfish sat next to him at his left. Lord Hoster's Bannermen sat to the left and right at the side tables. Robb sat opposite Edmure with Lenora on his left, his mother on his right and the Northern Lords to his left and right. There were less of them, but compared to the River Lords they looked stronger, more battle ready.
To Lenora's left sat the Greatjon and then Theon Greyjoy; Galbart Glover and Maege Mormont sat to Catelyn's right. Lord Rickard Karstark took his seat looking like a deadman. He had not slept or ate or bathed much since the Battle of the Whispering Wood where he lost two of his three sons. The third, he had not heard from since he had marched against Tywin Lannister on the Green Fork.
The arguing raged late into the night. Robb did not speak much, he listened and gave every Lord at the table a chance to speak. And they did speak. They also yelled, and cursed, and jested, and begged. They threatened and they walked out of the hall only to return some time later smiling, sullen, or embarrassed. Robb listened, and watched and out of the corner of his eye he kept a watch on Lenora's facial expressions, only guessing at what was going on in her mind.
Roose Bolton was reforming what was left of their force at the mouth of the causeway; Tallhart and Frey still held the Twins; Lord Tywin had crossed the Trident and was marching on Harrenhal. There were three Kings in the realm and no one could agree on which ones to support. The only general consensus was that Joffrey did not belong on the Iron Throne.
Some Lords wanted to march on Harrenhal and take out Lord Tywin.
Others urged Robb to attack Casterly Rock.
Some begged him to continue his march on King's Landing.
While some of the River Lords loudly shouted that Robb should join his forces with Renly's, declare Renly King and march with him.
Robb watched as Lenora's fingernails dug into the wood table they were sitting at, she did not approve of any of the suggestions so far, but least of all that last one. He realized with a surge of sympathy that she had probably been right to wish to go to her chamber. No matter how much he wished for his Lords Bannermen to trust her, no matter how much he wanted her council - this entire meeting was about destroying one part of her family or another. It had been cruel of him to bring her with him.
He finally spoke up though, "Renly is not the King," he announced to the River Lord who had suggested joining forces with him.
"You cannot mean to hold us to Joffrey, My Lord!" Glover shouted. "He put your father to death and if Lord Stannis is to be believed he is not King Robert's trueborn son."
"That makes him evil and not fit to rule," Robb told Glover, his voice calm despite the fact that the older man had yelled at him. "I do not know that it makes Renly King though. He is Robert's younger brother. Bran cannot be Lord of Winterfell before me and Renly cannot be King before Stannis."
"So you mean to declare us for Stannis?" Glover pressed.
"Renly is crowned," Marq Piper, one of Lord Hoster's bannermen argued. "High Garden and Storm's End support his claim. The Dornishmen will not drag their feet. If Winterfell and Riverrun join him he will have five of the Seven Kingdoms. Six if the Arryns join! Six kingdoms against the Rock! We could end the Lannister power in Westeros. What does Lord Stannis have against that?"
"The right," Robb told him, stubborn.
Ser Stevron Frey suggested patience, that they bide their time and let the three Kings in the South fight it out. If things turned against the Lannisters they could always offer their peace. Lord Tywin would be sure to accept it if he was facing a battle on all sides.
Lenora shook her head beside him, "Such a Frey," she whispered, glaring at the knight in question.
The Northern Lords were outraged at the idea of finding a truce with the Lannisters, but Catelyn surprised her son by asking, "Why not a peace?"
Robb turned on her, his eyes narrowed, "My Lady, they murdered my Lord Father, your husband." He unsheathed his sword and laid it on the table in front of him. The metal glinted in the torchlight much like Lenora's eyes when she was angry. "This is the only peace I have for Lannisters." He felt Lenora stiffen beside him and he reached out for her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, a silent reminder: you are a Stark.
Catelyn defended herself. She told the Lords that she only wanted her daughters back, that war would not bring her husband back to her, would not bring back their sons, would only bring further bloodshed. But they did not listen to her, she was speaking women's words in a woman's voice.
And they were speaking of war.
Lord Karstark wanted revenge for his sons' deaths.
Lord Bracken wanted justice for what the Mountain had done to his lands at Lord Tywin's command.
Lord Blackwood asked what would happen if they supported the claim of one King only to have another one win the war.
Marq Piper declared that whatever happened he would not have a Lannister for a King.
Finally the Greatjon stood up from his seat at the table, "My Lords!" he yelled, loud enough to bring a complete silence to the room. "Here's what I have to say to these three Kings!" He spat on the floor, turning for just a moment to nod an apology to Lenora and Catelyn before he continued. "Joffrey is a bastard! Renly Baratheon is nothing to me, nor Stannis neither. Why should they rule over me and mine from some flowery seat in the South? What do they know of the Wall? Or the Wolfswood? Or the First Men? Even their Gods are wrong! The Others take them all!" He reached over his shoulder to the cheers of the men around him and drew his two-handed greatsword. "Why shouldn't we rule ourselves again? It was the dragons we married, and the dragons are all dead!" He pointed at Robb with his blade. "There sits the only King I mean to bow my knee to!" he thundered. "The King in the North!"
He knelt, laying his sword at Robb's feet.
"I'll have peace on those terms," Lord Karstark agreed, standing from his seat and for the first time since the Whispering Wood he looked alive. "They can keep their red castle and their iron chair as well." He withdrew his sword, laying it down and kneeling beside the Greatjon, "The King in the North!"
"The King of Winter!" Maege Mormont declared, standing and adding her spiked mace to the swords at his feet.
The River Lords were rising, the Northern Lords too.
"The King in the North!"
"The King in the North!"
"THE KING IN THE NORTH!"
Robb stood from his seat, turning to look first at his mother and then at Lenora. Lenora watched him, tears filling her eyes before she nodded, "The King in the North," she told him softly, adding her voice to the chant, only once.
But once was enough.
It was only then that Robb nodded, agreeing to his new role.
-.-.-.-.-
Jaime
He could hear them from his cell underground. He had heard them the night before proclaiming the boy King in the North. And he had laughed, these Northerners were fools if they thought that the Young Wolf would continue beating Tywin Lannister. There hadn't been a King in the North for more than three hundred years and there wouldn't be one for much longer.
The boy came to see him that night, Jaime knew it was him because of the sudden outburst of activity from the jailers. He could hear the boy walking toward his cell. "The King in the North," he yelled out, a sarcastic greeting before the boy reached the door. As the jailer opened it he added, "I would kneel, but," he gestured to the chains that kept him bolted close to the wall of the cell. "I'm a bit busy sitting in my own shit."
He glanced over the boy's shoulder, looking for Lenora, hoping that his niece had come with her husband as well. But she was not there. The newly named King smirked at Jamie's disappointment as if he could read his mind, but did not rise to Jaime's comment. Jaime tried again, "I kept waiting for you to leave me at one castle or another. Will I stay here for safe keeping or will you continue to drag me along from camp to camp?" He lowered his voice, "Have you grown fond of me, Stark?" he asked, his voice dripping with innuendo. "Is that it? I've only seen you with one girl."
The boy nodded, "Your niece," he agreed. "Shall we ask her how fond of you I am?" He shook his head. "No, Kingslayer, if I left you with one of my bannermen, your father would know within a fortnight and my Bannerman would receive a raven with a message. Release my son and you will be rich beyond your dreams; refuse and your house will be destroyed, root and stem."
Jaime shook his head and clucked his tongue in playful disappointment. "You don't trust the loyalty of the men following you to battle?"
The boy shook his head, "I trust them with my life. And with Nora's." His eyes narrowed, "Just not with yours."
Jaime nodded, he had to admit that the boy was smart. "Smart boy," he congratulated him, smirking when he saw the Stark King's jaw clench. "What's wrong? You don't like being called boy? Are you insulted?"
The boy smirked at him, somewhere in the dark cell Jaime heard a growl. He turned his head wildly, side to side looking for the source of the noise. He caught a glimpse of grey fur and wondered when the direwolf had snuck into his cell and how it had been so quiet. "You insult yourself, Kingslayer," the boy told him as the wolf came into view, walking up to stand beside him, staring Jaime down with its molten gold eyes. "You've been defeated by a boy. You're held captive by a boy." His hand fell to the beast's back, his fingers fisting in the animal's grey fur. "Perhaps you will be killed by a boy."
Jaime swallowed nervously, his eyes never leaving the wolf's. "Stannis Baratheon sent ravens to all the High Lords of Westeros," Robb continued. "That King Joffrey Baratheon is neither a true King nor a true Baratheon. That he is your bastard son."
"If that's true then Stannis is the rightful King," Jaime told him, trying to make him doubt. "How convenient for him."
"My father learned the truth and you had him executed," Robb continued as if Jaime had not spoken.
"I was your prisoner when Ned Stark lost his head," Jaime pointed out.
"Your son killed him so that the world wouldn't learn who fathered him," Robb spoke over him. "And you - you pushed my brother from a window because he saw you with the Queen."
That hit a bit close to home, Jaime did not like it. The wolf growled. "Do you have proof?" Jaime asked, trying to force his voice to sound taunting. "Or would you like to trade gossip like a couple fishwives?"
"Your niece certainly seems to believe it," Robb pointed out, smirking. He knew that he had Jaime beat. Jaime did not need to deny or admit anything. The very fact that Lenora, the child he had raised, had turned her back on him was all the proof the Northern King needed. "I plan to send one of your cousins down to King's Landing with my peace terms," he informed Jaime.
"You think my father is going to negotiate with you?" Jaime asked him, "even if you have me and Lenora as your prisoners?" He shook his head, "You don't know Tywin Lannister very well."
"No," Robb told him, shaking his head, "but he's starting to know me."
"Three victories do not make you a conquerer."
"Better than three defeats," Robb told him, getting the last word.
Jaime stared at him as the man released his hold on the wolf's fur and turned from the cell, walking away. The wolf lunged toward him, growling and snapping his teeth. Not for the first time Jaime wondered how Robb Stark controlled the wolf because he did not bite. With one last snarl the wolf disappeared from the cell, as quietly and quickly as he had come.
The only sound in the dungeon was the sound of the jailer closing and locking the cell door.
Author's Note:
And that, my friends, is the end of the first season/first book. Nineteen chapters, 100,000 words. But here we are ... you guys, me, and the King in the North.
I hope that you enjoyed this chapter! If you did, let me know in that fun little empty box just down there!
Thank you to all the wonderful friends who reviewed on the last chapter. You guys are fantastic!
DannyBlack70: I loved Lenora's reaction to Jaime. The first edit she was just angry and bitter, but the more I thought about it the more I realized it was wrong. Jaime had raised her basically; she loved him, looked up to him. She wouldn't just be angry, she would be suffering a loss, and for such a horrible reason. It wouldn't just be anger that she would feel and I'm really glad that came across.
Vulcran: I talked about it at the beginning of chapter sixteen, at least in depth, so if you want to read my long winded explanation you are more than welcome to. But in short, no, Lenora will not inherit the throne. But if she were to have a son, he would be able to claim the throne.
ZabuzasGirl: Thank you for your review! I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well.
Raging Raven: Calculating bitches are some of my favorite characters to write. Sweet, innocent people are boring. That's why I started writing Game of Thrones fanfiction, because very few of the characters are completely likable. Same with Lenora. I'm glad you enjoy it.
HPuni101: I'm glad you liked the chapter and I hope you liked this chapter too! It was a fun one to write.
RHatch89: Thank you! Hope you liked this one as well. We're moving on to fun things!
That's all I've got for now!
Until next time,
Chloe Jane.