Author's Note: I'm back with Book Two. Book Two will follow the events of A Clash of Kings and season two of Game of Thrones. Much of this story will be based off of the show more than the books, as there is not a lot of information on Robb's actions for most of the middle of the book (when Catelyn is treating with Renly). I'm also not sure if I'm going to have Robb marry Jeyne Westerling or Talisa. Leave a review telling me which one you prefer. Enjoy.

It was warmer in Riverrun. Matt was used to the cold temperatures of Winterfell, where it snowed often. Snow hadn't been seen south of The Neck since last winter, almost ten years ago. When the guards brought in the captive, Robb called for his sword. Olyvar Frey offered it up hilt-first, and Robb drew the blade and laid it bare across his knees, a threat plain for all to see. "Your Grace, here is the man you asked for," announced Ser Robin Ryger, captain of the Tully household guard.

"Kneel before the king, Lannister!" Theon Greyjoy shouted. Brave Sir Robin forced the prisoner to his knees.

"Rise, Ser Cleos." Robb's voice was not as icy as his father's would have been, but he did not sound a boy of fifteen either. War had made a man of him before his time. Morning light glimmered faintly against the edge of the steel across his knees.

Yet it was not the sword that made Ser Cleos Frey anxious; it was the beast. Grey Wind, Robb had named him. A direwolf large as any elkhound, lean and smoke-dark, with eyes like molten gold. When the beast padded forward and sniffed at the captive knight, every man in that hall could smell the scent of fear. Ser Cleos had been taken during the battle in the Whispering Wood, where Grey Wind had ripped out the throats of half a dozen men.

The knight scrambled up, edging away with such alacrity that some of the watchers laughed aloud. "Thank you, my lord."

"Your Grace," barked Lord Umber, the Greatjon, ever the loudest of Robb's northern bannermen . . . and the truest and fiercest as well, or so he insisted. He had been the first to proclaim Robb Stark King in the North, and he would brook no slight to the honor of his new- made sovereign.

"Your Grace," Ser Cleos corrected hastily. "Pardons."

"I brought you from your cell to carry my message to your cousin Cersei Lannister in King's Landing. You'll travel under a peace banner, with thirty of my best men to escort you."

Ser Cleos was visibly relieved. "Then I should be most glad to bring His Grace's message to the queen."

"Understand," Robb said, "I am not giving you your freedom. Your grandfather Lord Walder pledged me his support and that of House Frey. Many of your cousins and uncles rode with us in the Whispering Wood, but you chose to fight beneath the lion banner. That makes you a Lannister, not a Frey. I want your pledge, on your honor as a knight, that after you deliver my message you'll return with the queen's reply, and resume your captivity."

Ser Cleos answered at once. "I do so vow."

"Every man in this hall has heard you," warned Ser Edmure Tully, who spoke for Riverrun and the lords of the Trident in the place of his dying father. "If you do not return, the whole realm will know you forsworn."

"I will do as I pledged," Ser Cleos replied stiffly. "What is this message?"

"An offer of peace." Robb stood, longsword in hand. Grey Wind moved to his side. The hall grew hushed. "Tell the Queen Regent that if she meets my terms, I will sheath this sword, and make an end to the war between us."

In the back of the hall, Matt noticed the tall, gaunt figure of his father, Lord Rickard Karstark, shove through a rank of guards and out the door. No one else moved. Robb paid the disruption no mind. "Olyvar, the paper," he commanded. The squire took his longsword and handed up a rolled parchment.

Robb unrolled it. "First, the queen must release my sister, Sansa and provide her with transport by sea from King's Landing to White Harbor. It is to be understood that Sansa's betrothal to Joffrey Baratheon is at an end. When I receive word from my castellan that she has returned unharmed to Winterfell, I will release the queen's cousins, the squire Willem Lannister and your brother Tion Frey, and give them safe escort to Casterly Rock or wheresoever she desires them delivered.

"Secondly, my lord father's bones will be returned to us, so he may rest beside his brother and sister in the crypts beneath Winterfell, as he would have wished. The remains of the men of his household guard who died in his service at King's Landing must also be returned.

"Third, my father's greatsword Ice will be delivered to my hand, here at Riverrun."

Matt watched Ser Edmure as he stood with his thumbs hooked over his swordbelt, his face as still as stone.

"Fourth, the queen will command her father Lord Tywin to release those knights and lords bannermen of mine that he took captive in the battle on the Green Fork of the Trident. Once he does so, I shall release my own captives taken in the Whispering Wood and the Battle of the Camps, save Jaime Lannister alone, who will remain my hostage for his father's good behavior."

Matt looked at Theon, who had a sly smile on his face. He had a way of looking as though he knew some secret jest that only he was privy to; that was one of the only things Matt didn't like about him.

"Lastly, King Joffrey and the Queen Regent must renounce all claims to dominion over the north. Henceforth we are no part of their realm, but a free and independent kingdom, as of old. Our domain shall include all the Stark lands north of the Neck, and in addition the lands watered by the River Trident and its vassal streams, bounded by the Golden Tooth to the west and the Mountains of the Moon in the east."

"THE KING IN THE NORTH!" boomed Greatjon Umber, a ham-sized fist hammering at the air as he shouted. "Stark! Stark! The King in the North!"

Robb rolled up the parchment again. "Maester Vyman has drawn a map, showing the borders we claim. You shall have a copy for the queen. Lord Tywin must withdraw beyond these borders, and cease his raiding, burning, and pillage. The Queen Regent and her son shall make no claims to taxes, incomes, nor service from my people, and shall free my lords and knights from all oaths of fealty, vows, pledges, debts, and obligations owed to the Iron Throne and the Houses Baratheon and Lannister. Additionally, the Lannisters shall deliver ten highborn hostages, to be mutually agreed upon, as a pledge of peace. These I will treat as honored guests, according to their station. So long as the terms of this pact are abided with faithfully, I shall release two hostages every year, and return them safely to their families." Robb tossed the rolled parchment at the knight's feet. "There are the terms. If she meets them, I'll give her peace. If not"—he whistled, and Grey Wind moved forward snarling—"I'll give her another Whispering Wood."

"Stark!" the Greatjon roared again, and now other voices took up the cry. "Stark, Stark, King in the North!" The direwolf threw back his head and howled. Blaze joined in.

Ser Cleos had gone the color of curdled milk. "The queen shall hear your message, my— Your Grace."

"Good," Robb said. "Ser Robin, see that he has a good meal and clean clothing. He's to ride at first light."

"As you command, Your Grace," Brave Sir Robin replied.

"Then we are done." The assembled knights and lords bannermen bent their knees as Robb turned to leave, Grey Wind at his heels. Olyvar Frey scrambled ahead to open the door.

"You did well," Lady Catelyn told her son in the gallery that led from the rear of the hall, "though that business with the wolf was japery more befitting a boy than a king."

Robb scratched Grey Wind behind the ear. "Did you see the look on his face, Mother?" he asked, smiling.

"What I saw was Lord Karstark, walking out."

"As did I." Robb lifted off his crown with both hands and gave it to Olyvar. "Take this thing back to my bedchamber."

"At once, Your Grace." The squire hurried off.

"I'll wager there were others who felt the same as Lord Karstark," Ser Edmure declared. "How can we talk of peace while the Lannisters spread like a pestilence over my father's domains, stealing his crops and slaughtering his people? I say again, we ought to be marching on Harrenhal."

"We lack the strength," Robb said, though unhappily.

Edmure persisted. "Do we grow stronger sitting here? Our host dwindles every day."

"And whose doing is that?" Catelyn snapped at her brother. It had been at Edmure's insistence that Robb had given the river lords leave to depart after his crowning, each to defend his own lands. Ser Marq Piper and Lord Karyl Vance had been the first to go. Lord Jonos Bracken had followed, vowing to reclaim the burnt shell of his castle and bury his dead, and now Lord Jason Mallister had announced his intent to return to his seat at Seagard, still mercifully untouched by the fighting.

"You cannot ask my river lords to remain idle while their fields are being pillaged and their people put to the sword," Ser Edmure said, "but Lord Karstark is a northman. It would be an ill thing if he were to leave us."

"I'll speak with him," said Robb. "He lost two sons in the Whispering Wood. Who can blame him if he does not want to make peace with their killers...with my father's killers . . ."

"More bloodshed will not bring your father back to us, or Lord Rickard's sons," Catelyn said. "An offer had to be made—though a wiser man might have offered sweeter terms."

"Any sweeter and I would have gagged."

"Cersei Lannister will never consent to trade your sister for a pair of cousins. It's her brother she'll want, as you know full well."

"I can't release the Kingslayer, not even if I wanted to. My lords would never abide it."

"Your lords made you their king."

"And can unmake me just as easy."

Finally, Matt spoke up. "Let me speak to my father, Your Grace."

This caught Robb off guard, "How do you know that he will listen to you?" He asked. "The day you joined us at The Twins was the first time that the two of you had seen each other in years."

"I'm still his son. The only child he still has in the south. Harrion is the heir and Alys was betrothed to Daryn Hornwood. They are both still at Karhold."

Robb thought for a moment. "Fine," he consented. He turned back to his mother. "The Kingslayer will stay in his cell."

"If your crown is the price we must pay to have Sansa returned safe, we should pay it willingly. Half your lords would like to murder Lannister in his cell. If he should die while he's your prisoner, men will say—"

"—that he well deserved it," Robb finished.

"And your sister?" Catelyn asked sharply. "Will she deserve her death as well? I promise you, if any harm comes to her brother, Cersei will pay us back blood for blood—"

"Lannister won't die," Robb said. "No one so much as speaks to him without my warrant. He has food, water, clean straw, more comfort than he has any right to. But I won't free him, not even for Sansa."

"Are you afraid to have Jaime Lannister in the field again, is that the truth of it?"

Grey Wind growled, as if he sensed Robb's anger, and Edmure Tully put a brotherly hand on Catelyn's shoulder. "Cat, don't. The boy has the right of this."

"Don't call me the boy," Robb said, rounding on his uncle, his anger spilling out all at once on poor Edmure, who had only meant to support him. "I'm almost a man grown, and a king—your king, ser. And I don't fear Jaime Lannister. I defeated him once, I'll defeat him again if I must, only . . ." He pushed a fall of hair out of his eyes and gave a shake of the head. "I might have been able to trade the Kingslayer for Father, but . . ."

". . . but not for your sister?" Her voice was icy-quiet. "Girls are not important enough, are they?"

Robb made no answer, but there was hurt in his eyes. "I'll do all I can for my sisters," Robb said. He looked at Matt. "Both of them. If the queen has any sense, she'll accept my terms. If not, I'll make her rue the day she refused me."

Plainly, he'd had enough of the subject. "Mother, are you certain you will not consent to go to the Twins? You would be farther from the fighting, and you could acquaint yourself with Lord Frey's daughters to help me choose my bride when the war is done."

"You're old enough to decide which of Lord Walder's girls you prefer without your mother's help, Robb."

"Then go with Theon. He leaves on the morrow. He'll help the Mallisters escort that lot of captives to Seagard and then take ship for the Iron Islands. You could find a ship as well, and be back at Winterfell with a moon's turn, if the winds are kind. Bran and Rickon need you."

"My lord father has little enough time remaining him. So long as your grandfather lives, my place is at Riverrun with him."

"I could command you to go. As king, I could."

Catelyn ignored that. "I'll say again, I would sooner you sent someone else to Pyke, and kept Theon close to you."

"Who better to treat with Balon Greyjoy than his son?"

"Jason Mallister," offered Catelyn. "Tytos Blackwood. Stevron Frey. Anyone . . . but not Theon."

Robb squatted beside Grey Wind, ruffling the wolf's fur and incidentally avoiding her eyes. "Theon's fought bravely for us. I told you how he saved Bran from those wildlings in the wolfswood. If the Lannisters won't make peace, I'll have need of Lord Greyjoy's longships."

"You'll have them sooner if you keep his son as hostage."

"He's been a hostage half his life."

"For good reason," Catelyn said. "Balon Greyjoy is not a man to be trusted. He wore a crown himself, remember, if only for a season. He may aspire to wear one again."

Robb stood. "I will not grudge him that. If I'm King in the North, let him be King of the Iron Islands, if that's his desire. I'll give him a crown gladly, so long as he helps us bring down the Lannisters."

"Robb—"

"I'm sending Theon. Good day, Mother. Grey Wind, come." Robb walked off briskly, the direwolf padding beside him.

Matt took his leave as well. "My lady."

He found Theon where he expected to: drinking in the Great Hall. Matt sat down across from him and poured a cup for himself.

"Robb still intends for me to treat with my father?" Greyjoy asked.

"Yes, despite Lady Catelyn's protests."

"At least she tried," he looked Matt over for a moment. "You are not angry at Robb for attempting peace, even after what the Lannisters did to Ned and your brothers?"

"No, what they did to Ned can never be truly forgiven, but he was Robb's father as well. If Robb wants peace, then I accept his wishes. As for my brothers, I never really knew them."

They sat there in silence for a while. Finally, Theon spoke, "Your father seemed pretty angry, walking out like that."

"Yes, I actually need to talk to him about that. Do you know where he is?"

"The Godswood, I believe."

Matt finished his wine and stood. "I'll see you tomorrow, then," he whistled and Blaze bounded up beside him. "Goodnight, Theon."

His father was in the godswood, as Theon had said. Matt commanded Blaze to wait at the entrance. "Father," He said. "Robb is right to want peace. We don't have the men for—."

"You want peace?" His voice sounded pained. "Jaime Lannister killed your brothers and you want peace!?"

"I loved Torrhen and Eddard just as much as you! But how can you expect me to grieve this much when I barely even knew them?"

"What about your betrothed?" His father said, a little quieter. "I heard the Kingslayer threatened Arya Stark."

"And what could he do exactly? He has no way to send a raven. Besides, Arya isn't in the capital, Sansa is. If we kill Jaime Lannister, the queen will kill Sansa."

"Cersei Lannister doesn't have the guts to kill Sansa. The girl is to be Joffrey's queen."

Matt saw the truth in his words. "Peace is still the only option. We are outnumbered three to one. The smart thing to do would have been to declare for Renly immediately. He has the larger army. But we chose to follow the King in the North. We all swore an oath. We must uphold that oath."

Lord Rickard contemplated his son's words. "I suppose you are right," he finally said. "But, if this plan fails, King Robb will know that I was right."

"Thank you, Father," Matt hugged his father for the first time in ages.

Robb was waiting near the entrance. He was watching Grey Wind and Blaze rolling around in the dirt. "So," he said when he saw Matt. "How did it go? I heard shouting."

"We had a little spat, but I managed to convince him to support you."

"Thank you, Matt. Goodnight." He called Grey Wind and left.

When he went to bed that night, Matt dreamt of Arya. She was facing down some Lannister men in a burning building. He tried to call out, but, for some reason, his voice wouldn't work. There were more people with her: one boy was fat and didn't seem to know how to properly hold his sword; another was skinnier, but still did not know how to hold his sword; the last boy was tall and fit, with a mess af black hair that made him look strangely like Robert Baratheon. He watched the four of them somehow fight off seven Lannister men. Then, a beam fell from the roof. Sparks flew up and Matt heard Arya scream. Then his dream changed. He was Blaze again, running and hunting.

Author's Note: I decided to end on a cliffhanger that isn't really a cliffhanger as long as you've read the books. I figured Matt needed some character development, so I added the talk with his father. As always, leave a review with suggestions. Dire, out.