Robb had ridden off hours ago with his army and Narcissa had found herself wandering the camp aimlessly. Clive and Travis were off to battle as well, Catelyn still hadn't returned and no one needed her help in the kitchens since most men were away and there were less meals to be prepared.
Narcissa wondered then if she ought to pray, like Catelyn always did. What if the Gods really did exist and her mother-by-law's prayers did protect Robb in battle? With skepticism, Narcissa kneed down in her tent and closed her eyes, waiting to feel a sudden presence next to her but there was nothing.
"Are you there?" Narcissa whispered quietly, feeling rather ridiculous. All she could hear was the heavy rain falling on the canvas. She was about to get back up when the loud sound of thunder nearly ruptured her eardrums. Was this a yes, she wondered with amusement.
"I don't know what Catelyn usually does when she prays but it seems to work, so I want to do same," she said, barely loud enough to hear her own voice during the thunderstorm. "So, keep him safe." Narcissa concluded hesitantly before quickly adding something. "Please?"
She wasn't sure how long she knelt there, trying to pray to Gods she didn't even know, but her kneecaps started to hurt before the rain stopped. It made her feel powerless, not knowing if they had heard her if they even existed at all and powerlessness was a feeling she hated.
Abruptly, she stood up again to go sit at Robb's desk and started studying the parchments where she had copied Westeros' map. The enemies of my enemies are my friends, Narcissa thought as the tip of her fingers brushed over Dorne. If there was anyone who hated the Lannisters as much as the Starks did, then it was the Martells. Stannis Baratheon was also very keen on getting Joffrey off the throne and she knew Robb had no intention on sitting on Iron Throne either. All he wanted was to go back home with his family, with her and she wanted the same thing.
"Take me to the prisoners please," Narcissa said loudly, stepping out her tent to find her guards were drenched. Robb had insisted that she keep them still, not as surveillance but as protection when he wasn't there. It didn't exactly please her but it didn't bother her to the point of arguing over it either. After all, it was only while he was away.
"To the prisoners, your Grace?" One of them stuttered, blinking.
"Yes." Narcissa insisted. The guards looked at each other, feeling rather uncertain about the request but she was the Queen as in the end, they did as asked.
Narcissa had never to this part of camp before. It was at the very edge of it, beyond the armory and the makeshift stables and she realized pallidly how many of them there were. Pens and pens filled with men stretched out further than she could make out in the darkening sky. They looked filthy but none of them appeared injured or beaten.
"Which ones of you are native to King's Landing?" She asked loudly, announcing her presence and immediately, all the men turned around to stare at her. The animosity was vivid in their eyes but she ought to have it expected it. They were enemies after all. "I would like to ask a few questions."
There were murmurs inside the pens but with the rain she couldn't understand what any of them were saying. "And why would we help you?" One of them suddenly pat, pressing his face to the bars of the cell with a smirk that almost chilled her to the bones.
"Because the questions will take place around a nice, warm supper away from the rain." Narcissa said spontaneously.
At once, everyone volunteered to be questioned and she had to pick out which ones looked the most trustworthy, and also, the least likely to kill her over dinner. In the end she picked out two middle-aged soldiers and a younger one. "Have them cleaned and then brought to me in an hour."
Narcissa would never admit how nervous she was then, waiting for the prisoners as she sat alone at a table. Her guards had strongly advised her against it, and the word 'mad' had even slipped from one of their mouths but she was determined to be useful in this war. She'd never amount to a skilled fighter like Maege Mormont but her father had always called her a natural politician.
"Take a seat," Narcissa said cheerfully, trying to hide her fear, when the three men were brought to her tent. They were cleaner now and she was happy to notice that the stench was gone. Hesitantly, the soldiers sat down around her and she could sense the way her guards kept their hands on the handle of their swords, ready to intervene at any moment. "Please help yourselves."
They didn't have to be told twice and the stew was almost gone by the time she helped herself to it, but she didn't mind. If she was hungry later, she could get a snack from the kitchens. "So, tell me, did all of you grow up in King's Landing?"
The prisoners stopped eating at once, and she witnessed them looking at each other warily until the youngest one, who looked about her age, finally replied. "Aye. My mother was a whore in a fancy brothel held by Petyr Baelish."
It took all of her poise not to laugh then. She had hoped food would make them more cooperative but she hadn't expected blatant honesty of this sort. "And who is this Petyr Baelish?"
"He's Master of Coin," the one with the beard replied. "Along with the Spider, he's most likely the one who holds most power in King's Landing."
"The spider?" Narcissa asked with curiosity.
In the hours that followed, Narcissa learned more about King's Landing than any book could ever have taught her. She learned about the Mountain and the Hound, about Joffrey's barely disguised tendencies for cruelty and most of all, how the Lannisters weren't really appreciated by the smallfolk.
"If you have any more questions, I'd be happy to help, your Grace," the youngest one replied with a smile now that his belly was full and it was time for them to go.
"I'll keep that in mind," Narcissa chuckled. She remained seated until she was left alone in the tent and then hurried back to her desk, writing down all the new information lest she forget.
There were some things she already knew before even setting foot in Westeros. The Crown owed a tremendous amount of money to the Lannisters and the Iron Bank. Father told her once how he had found out through spies that the mines in Casterly Rock were slowly running dry and that soon, the Medici would not just be the richest family in Essos, but in the known world.
She knew the Iron Bank would refuse them any more loans at this point, which meant that the Crown would be forced to ally with a rich family. They might even try to broker a deal with the Medici bank but she was sure her father would refuse, especially once her letter arrived and he found out she was now on the other side of the conflict. Maybe they could starve out King's Landing if they were able to get Lord Baelish and Lord Varys to switch sides.
Narcissa spent most of her night and the following day writing down ideas, trying to come up with a plan that would help them win the war with little bloodshed. The thought of Robb's safety was always there, in the back of her mind, and she was resolved to find a way to keep him away from more battles. The worry was consuming, most likely clouding her judgment and she was certain she would grow mad if the war went on for long.
And then she heard the sound of blowing horns and bolted out of her tent like Catelyn after the battle of the Whispering Wood. Narcissa watched as Robb rode back to camp, Grey Wind at his side, as night was falling again. He jumped off his mount as soon as he spotted her in the middle of the crowd, hair plastered to her face and shivering in the rain. Robb couldn't help but notice the large grin on her face as he approached her before kissing her forehead.
"Why aren't you wearing a coat?" He asked with concern when he noticed her wet clothes and her shivering frame.
"I forgot," Narcissa admitted softly, almost embarrassed. "I was so excited to see you again, I didn't think about the rain."
There was nothing that he wanted more than take his wife in his arms and warm her up in an embrace but his armor didn't allow for much movement and it was covered in blood. "Let's get back to our tent."
Narcissa stopped a couple of servants on their way and asked them to bring food to their tent and prepare him a bath. Robb observed her natural, calm authority with awe. She didn't need to raise her voice to be heard in a noisy crowd and everyone quickly followed her orders. He knew Narcissa would run Winterfell like a clockwork, there was no doubt in that.
"Are you saying that I'm filthy?" Robb teased, watching her as they walked hand in hand.
"You smell like a wet wolf," she replied with her nose wrinkled before laughing.
Either they had taken a long time to get there, or the servants were particularly efficient, but by the time they reached their tent, a bathtub filled with hot water stood in the center of the room and there was a plate of food sitting on the table.
Narcissa helped Robb take off his armor, barely cringing as her fingers touched the dried up blood on the metal. Narcissa didn't know how it was possible, but his skin was dirty even beneath the clothes and armor. Did he roll around in the mud like a wolf, Narcissa wondered silently, watching him. The water was most likely still boiling hot but he lowered himself into it without complaint. "Will you join me?" Robb asked with a hopeful smile.
Narcissa eyed the greying water with reluctance, ready to refuse when she caught his buoyant blue eyes. She sighed dramatically before undoing the laces of her dress. "Don't even think about getting my hair wet!" She said sternly but the menace was lost on Robb who couldn't keep his eyes off his wife as she revealed her naked body to him.
"You're beautiful, you know that," he said huskily when she stepped foot inside the bathtub and realized with relief that the water wasn't as hot as she had expected it to be.
"Flattery won't get you anywhere with me, your Grace," Narcissa joked, knowing how much he disliked being called by his title. It wasn't that he disliked it per se, but he had confided in her that it felt like too much pressure was put on his shoulders.
She sat down on the opposite side of the tub, facing him with a smirk when she noticed he was already aroused. "And what will get me anywhere with you, your Grace?" Her husband asked suggestively, trying to keep his eyes on her face.
Narcissa tried kicking him in the chest with her foot but his reflexes were too fast and he caught her leg mid-air. Robb laughed at her pout before placing a kiss on her ankle and resting her foot on his shoulder. "It's the second time you've tried striking a king."
"I can promise you it won't be the last time either," she replied, attempting a wink but failing miserably.
Narcissa watched him closely as he washed the grime off his skin, not bothering to remove her leg from its position. He didn't have a single scratch, she happily noted. He did have some small scars, but those dated back to his childhood and they were all healed now. She noted with fright that there was blood on his hair before realizing that it wasn't his. Still, the concern remained, at there were some matters she wanted to address.
"I did a lot of thinking while you were away."
"Thinking about what?" Robb asked cautiously, stopping his washing mid-track, afraid she had decided to leave him after all.
"The Martells hate the Lannisters as much as you do, you'll have no trouble bringing them to your side." Narcissa explained, rubbing her toes up and down his chest. "And Stannis Baratheon is the rightful heir to the throne. If you side with him, you might be able to convince him to leave you the North."
"Stannis is a fickle man," Robb sighed. "And Doran Martell is sickly and never keen on waging war."
"Just like you said," Narcissa purred with a smirk, "Doran is sickly. His brother Oberyn, however, wishes nothing more than to avenge his sister."
She had met him in Dorne when she first arrived in Westeros. He was a very handsome man for his age and very brazen too, Narcissa recalled, remembering how he had invited her to a night in his and Ellaria's company. She would keep that herself however, Robb surely wouldn't appreciate learning about that.
"I just returned from battle," her husband said gravelly. "There are many things I'd rather do with my wife than talk about politics." Robb added boldly, before tracing the inner side of her leg with the tip of his finger, starting at her ankle and then descending slowly all the way down to her thigh. Maybe their talk could wait.
Narcissa bit her lower lip, suppressing a chuckle at his impatience. "Like what?" She asked leeringly.
Robb didn't reply, instead he leaned forward until her body was covered with his and she felt his erection press against her, as he trailed his tongue along her neck. "Like making love."
-/-/-/-
The victory at the battle of Oxcross left everyone in high spirits, especially because it was quickly followed by the Sack of Ashemark which helped them restock their supplies. Stafford Lannister was dead and with him over two thousands of his men, with lots more held as prisoners. Robb told her how some of his men were disapproving of his choice to keep so many prisoners, especially Lord Bolton but Lord Karstark wasn't exactly pleased either. Keeping them alive was maybe not the most logical decision, but it was the honorable and she knew he'd always follow that path.
"They have my sisters, I cannot afford to anger them," Robb sighed with exasperation late at night, sitting at his desk in their tent.
The single candle that was still burning didn't provide for much light and from the bed, she couldn't quite make out his expression but she didn't need to. By now, she knew him well enough that any mention of his sisters was enough to bring a frown to his face. "I was never raised to be king, but now that I am, I want to be a good one and to me, that doesn't include executing men unnecessarily."
Narcissa patiently listened to his rant though there wasn't much comfort she could offer. He hadn't been raised to be king, and she hadn't been raised to be queen either. It made her realize that the both of them were nothing more than children. Sure, both were of age but the truth was nothing in their lives had prepared them for this.
"What would you be doing right now in Winterfell if all this hadn't happened?" Narcissa asked, hoping to lighten the mood.
Robb went into deep thought at her question. It felt like eternities had passed since he left home, to the point where he hardly remembered who he used to be or what he used to do. "I'd probably be showing you around the Wolfswood before Winter comes and it all turns white with snow."
Narcissa's first reaction was to smile at his words even though she didn't like being in the woods a lot, but then something dawned on her. "You and I would never have met if it weren't for this," she whispered, both knowing what 'this' meant. It was a terrible thing to realize they met and got married because of war neither of them wanted. They met because the Lannisters imprisoned his father and Narcissa wondered if in later years, that would be all he'd see when he looked at her.
"Old Nan once said that there cannot be darkness without light or light without darkness," Robb said calmly, as if he had heard her internal worries.
-/-/-/-
It was with great joy that they welcomed Catelyn back at the new camp in Oxcross a handful of days later. Sadly, her mother-by-law came back with news of Renly Baratheon's death. The tall lady in armor who accompanied Catelyn insisted Renly had been killed by a shadow with Stannis' face. No one seemed to believe her, but Narcissa had heard weirder stories from other free cities when the Lord of Light was concerned and decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. Though, the question that everyone was asking themselves was with whom Renly's men and the Tyrells would side with. And at this point, no one knew for sure yet.
Narcissa had hoped that having Catelyn back would help her cope better with Robb's absence during battles but her mother-by-law had heard about her failed escape attempt and wasn't as quick to forgive as her son was. Catelyn looked at her with resentment and she couldn't blame her for it. "My son was so good to you and yet you jumped at the first chance to leave him," she spat in anger when Narcissa tried to talk with her.
This meant that while Robb was away fighting at the Yellow Fork, Narcissa spent her time in the council tent staring at the map as if a miracle solution would come to her if she just focused hard enough. The only reasonable option she saw, was convincing Stannis Baratheon to lay siege upon King's Landing in the Blackwater Way and for to Robb use his men in order to block all roads leading to the Capital, and wait for them to starve. Robb kept telling her it was impossible to do so now because that meant they had to control at least some part of the Reach and Stannis wanted all seven Kingdoms, not six. Alliances would have been much easier to come by if the North hadn't declared its independence.
The rest of her time, Narcissa spend it coughing blood into a napkin until she got so annoyed by it she decided to admit something was wrong and seek help from the healers, lest Robb find out. She recognized a nurse named Talisa she remembered from that afternoon spent mending clothes and headed to straight to her.
"Do you have an antitussive?" Narcissa asked quietly, knowing that word travelled fast around camp.
Talisa Maegyr frowned at the request before nodding quickly and leading Narcissa to a small shelf where differently colored vials were stored. "This is good if you only have a cough," Talisa said, handing Narcissa a light blue liquid, "but if you have a cold, it won't work."
Narcissa shook her head. She hesitated, looking down a few seconds before deciding that she needed to tell the truth if she wanted to get the appropriate medication. "What causes the coughing of blood?" Narcissa whispered, making sure no one was within ear shot.
The nurse's eyes widened suddenly, taking up most of her slim face. "There are many causes. Usually it's bronchitis or pneumonia, but it can also be the result of ingestion of corrosive substances."
"Do you have any examples?" Narcissa asked. She wasn't an uneducated person but the healing arts had never been her area of interest.
"Well, there's poison," Talisa suggested cautiously. Insinuating someone might be poisoning the queen was a grave thing, but Narcissa wasn't convinced. She had continued helping in the kitchens and they seemed to like her well enough. They had no motive to poison her as far as she knew. "There are also plants which can cause someone to cough up blood if ingested in high doses – cassava, tansy, pennyroyal, for instance – but I doubt you've in been in contact with any of these, your Grace."
Narcissa managed to thank Talisa and exit the tent quickly, hopefully before her paleness became evident. She almost laughed at the irony of it, knowing that the only person who was poisoning her was herself. Gloria had told her the herbs were a mild form of moon tea, less dangerous for the body but Narcissa should have expected a long term consumption to cause complications.
Before she could dwell on it too long, her guards informed her that Alton Lannister had returned from King's Landing with something for her. The messenger handed her a short letter and a carefully wrapped package.
Dear friend from the inn,
I notice we now stand on opposite sides in this war though I can't imagine how you've found yourself with the Stark army. I do hope that you'll satisfy my curiosity.
I intended to give you this in person but I do not wish to end up a prisoner like my brother. (Give him my regards!)
I look forward to drinking with your again,
Tyrion Lannister.
Narcissa excitedly tore open the paper to find the sword that had brought her to Westeros in the first place. The Valeryan steel shone brightly even in the dimness of the clouded sky, and she found herself beaming, knowing that she'd be able to return it to her father once the war was over and make up for her mistakes.
And when the horns sounded, signaling Robb's and his men's victorious, Narcissa forgot all about her conversation with Talisa, rejoicing in the fact that he was back and every won battle was a step closer to the end of the war.
-/-/-/-
Narcissa woke up the following day to news of Jamie Lannister's attempted escape which resulted in the deaths of Alton Lannister and Torrhen Karstark. Robb left her alone in bed to go deal with the pressing matter but Narcissa couldn't stop thinking about the implications of this. Lord Karstark had lost his eldest son, Harrion, to Jamie Lannister during the battle of the Whispering Wood and now another of his sons had died at the same man's hands. She knew Robb would now face great pressure by the Karstark men to have the Kingslayer executed for this and yet, he couldn't because that would mean losing the only leverage he held over Tywin.
"Thank God I'm not a man and don't actually have to deal with that stuff," Narcissa whispered to herself as she closed her eyes, hoping get a few more hours of sleep but it was a lost cause. Her mind was too loud and she ended up going to the kitchens again to calm her nerves until she was summoned to the council tent in the afternoon.
"Your Graces, my lady, news from Wintefell," Roose Bolton announced as soon as she entered the tent before handing Robb a letter.
He read the short message a few times over as if the content would magically change. "This cannot be true," he muttered with disbelief, making Narcissa frown. She ripped the parchment from his hands to finally understand what was going on.
"We've had ravens from White Harbor, Barrowton and Dreadfort. I am afraid it is true." Bolton confirmed gravely.
"Why? Why would Theon-?" Robb asked emptily.
"Because the Greyjoys are treasonous whores." Narcissa would have laughed at that hadn't the situation truly been so dire.
"My brothers?"
"We've heard nothing of them. But Rodrick Cassel is dead," Bolton replied with little emotion.
"I told you never trust a Greyjoy." Catelyn shouted loudly, almost hysterically.
Narcissa froze then. She saw the three of talking in front of her but she wasn't paying attention to what was being said. Theon hadn't made a good impression on her from the first time they met, but she had always had the impression that he was loyal to Robb. If a close friend couldn't be trusted at this point, could they even rely on a vassal who was only bound to them by feudal allegiance? What was stopping any of the other lords from betraying them as well?
"Are you alright?" Robb asked with concern, slowly rubbing her arms until Narcissa came to focus on her surroundings again and noticed they were alone now.
"I'm sorry, Robb," she whispered, forcing a small smile. "Your mother told me a lot about your brothers. Bran is very resourceful, I'm certain they're fine." Narcissa lied and Robb's face told her he wasn't entirely convinced.
"Bolton is sending his son to take over Winterfell for me." Robb sighed, walking back to seat at the head of the table.
"I don't think that's wise, Robb." She advised carefully. "How do you know you can trust him?"
"I don't have a choice," Robb admitted with resignation. "If I march North, we'll lose the Westerlands and the Riverlands." Narcissa noticed him staring at the map and she followed his gaze, he was right. The Lannisters were waiting for them to make a mistake like that.
"I can convince my father to hire sellswords and ships and sent them North." She finally asserted confidently. It was true that Cosimo always kept himself away from matters regarding armed conflicts, but this around, he'd make an exception, she was sure of it. After all, the safety of his only daughter could very well depend on it.
"And how much time will that take?" Robb argued with irritation and no one could blame him for it after the news they had just received.
Narcissa sighed, realizing he was right. It would take a few weeks for him to receive the letter and organize everything, and then, the men would still have to cross the Narrow Sea and head North. "Make the Bolton situation temporary, just until the sellswords arrive," she pleaded. Somehow, she had a bad feeling in her gut when it came to the Boltons.
"Sellswords are loyal to nothing more than money, Narcissa." Robb exhaled, beckoning her to him and sit on his lap. He had never expected to marry a woman who was so keen on getting involved in matters like this, but then, Narcissa had always exceeded all expectations. "They turn on us as soon as someone offers to pay them more," he explained, softly rubbing her back until he felt her giggle against him.
"No one outbids a Medici."
First, I apologize for the long wait! I had to do an essay, which endedup taking much time and work than expected (I actually had to go to the law library, which I never do), and I'm just now finally able to breathe again!
Second, I do hope you enjoyed this chapter! It feels different to me because I wrote it over a few days instead of all in one go so it feels like a patchwork haha
Third, next chapter will focus on the take of the Crag! For those who have the read the books (which I haven't) you might be able to guess what will happen…
Until then, enjoy the good weather and have fun!