See? I promised you this update would come quicker than the previous one, and I kept that promise! I proofread this, but there are bound to be some mistakes left, sorry.
I hope you'll enjoy this. Please share yours thoughts with me! I've read all your reviews and comments from chapter 15 but haven't had a chance to reply yet. I will do that as soon as I have time, but I do want you to know that I read them all and that they mean a lot to me :)
I listened to the new GoT song, Jenny of Oldstones by Florence and the Machine, while writing this. Maybe I could encourage you to listen to it while reading this.
Without further ado…
Narcissa woke up startled, panicking until she recognized her brother's green eyes in the dark. He was hovering over her with a torch in his hand. "It's Robb." He whispered flatly. It took her a few seconds to realize that this was not part of her dream before ripping the torch away from his hand and bolting out of bed without caring for her soreness.
She ran through the narrow hallway, her long, white nightgown billowy flowing behind her, somehow instinctively knowing the way.
She passed a handful of soldiers on her way but none seemed to recognize her dressed like this. Nothing slowed her down, not the steep stairs she had to descend nor even the sharp turns she had to take where she felt the heels of her feet slip on the stone, her steps echoing in the high walls. All too quickly, she was standing by a closed door in front of a round man, dressed all in white robes.
"Lady Narcissa de Medici, daughter of Sir Cosimo de Medici, I presume?" The round man asked, giving her a quick once over. He had a peculiar quality about him – neither young nor old, neither pretty nor ugly, neither reassuring nor scary, he just was.
"Yes, that's me," Narcissa panted, still out of breath as she rested her arm against the wall for support.
"My name is Leonardo Visconti, a healer from the Great City of Florence," he said proudly, introducing himself before stretching out for her to shake which she reluctantly did. "Myself and the Medici family healer have been taking care of your Lord husband."
Narcissa waited for him to continue, but it seemed the man was all about dramatic pauses, as if expecting a reaction from her after every sentence and she was starting to lose patience. "And?" She asked urgently.
"We were able to remove all the arrows. None of them pierced through an organ or a major blood vessel, though the one on the right thigh was source of a few complications." He explained in a monotone voice as if he was reading her a chapter of a lexicon and not reporting on her husband's status. She had almost forgotten this about most Florentine people she knew, a complete lack on emotion in all circumstances. "However, the stabbing wound was deeper than expected. Combined with the arrow injuries, we estimate the blood loss anywhere between 30 and 40 percent of the total blood volume, though the higher margin seems more likely."
Narcissa looked at him expectantly, but he remained stoic. She closed her eyes, trying to remember her classes with that arrogant preceptor she disliked. She was sure she was once told how much blood an adult man had, but she couldn't remember it. Wasn't it one and a half gallons? She wanted to ask when the door was pulled open just a few inches and Frederico, a healer she knew all too well, walked out. He gave her a tight lipped smile as he took place next to Leonardo.
"I am with child, or rather was," Narcissa said quickly before correcting herself. "That ought to have increased my blood volume significantly, enough to allow a significant transfusion."
Frederico shook his head softly but didn't say anything. He had always been a quiet man, even when he dined with them after examining her mother, he rarely said more than was absolutely necessary. "You do not share the same bloodline, the risk of rejection is too great," Leonardo replied in his stead. "Besides, we are past that point now. The heartbeat was very elevated but the blood pressure too low when he got here. We tried to balance those out for the greatest part of the night, but the heartbeat slowed and the blood pressure didn't pick up." The round man drawled and Narcissa found herself nodding at each word, trying to make sense of it but her mind wasn't cooperating. She raised her eyebrows at him, incenting him to continue but Leonardo didn't pursue.
Instead, Frederico stepped forward and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Narcissa, I am truly sorry." The ginger man said compassionately, he knew the girl had already lost her mother only recently. "But the heartbeat is too faint. Too much time has passed already, and he hasn't woken up…" He didn't finish his sentence but Narcissa didn't need him to. She knew how it went, if he has not woken up so far, he wouldn't do it now.
She knew her eyes were glistening with tears and she tried to rub them away with her fingers before anyone would notice, especially her brother. "You asked for me so I could say my goodbyes?" She asked then, with a forced smile, thanking them for their gesture. Both doctors slowly nodded at her.
"Very well," she breathed out, nodding as well. "I would like to be left alone," she insisted, forcing her way past the men and to the door.
Narcissa forced herself not to look at the bed right away. Instead, she noticed the open window and felt an unreasonable amount of anger at the sight. This was not how he liked it, the cold was coming in from the outside, as well as the smoke from the mass cremations outside. The room smelled of salt, Narcissa realized, the healers had most likely used a saltwater solution to clean the wounds. Immediately, she lit up a couple of candles and closed the window, barely noticing the red color on the stars in the sky despite the dusk. "It's tomorrow," she whispered to herself as she walked over to the fire to add more logs until the flames were so high, they were almost coming out of the fireplace.
Only then did she allow herself to look at him. His skin was pale and somehow that took her by surprise even though she ought to have expected vessel constriction. His eyes were closed, the dark lashes resting on his cheeks. If she tried hard enough, maybe she could convince herself he was simply sleeping.
Silently, she made her way over to the bed, pushing back the covers to lie down next him. She noticed all the bandages on his torso and quickly pushed the covers back up, to their chins and pretended those were not there. Narcissa grabbed his left arm and wrapped it around herself as she rested her head on the crook of his shoulder. She took his hand in hers, entwining their fingers as she tried to ignore the coldness of his touch.
He was always so warm, irradiating heat no matter what. That was the one thing that had bothered her about him, when they fell asleep cuddling and she woke up sweating like she had been scorched by the sun. She would have given anything to feel that way now.
Narcissa let her other hand rest on his chest. If she closed her eyes and focused hard enough, she could feel the weak, sporadic heart beat beneath her palm. She tried counting the seconds in between, quickly noticing that they were spacing out.
"Arya is here," she whispered as her tears fell on his chest and she quickly brushed them away, not wanting to taint him with her sorrow. "She looks well, and strong. She's just as your mother described her to me – all boyish energy, no ladylike composure." Narcissa chuckled at her words but it was a dry laugh, with no joy.
"Roose Bolton, Walder Frey, all the Freys actually, they're all dead," she continued, absentmindedly playing with his chest hairs. "I thought you'd like to know that, so that you can be at peace." Narcissa felt her heart tightening further with every word she spoke until her own heart was barely beating either. She might have killed them, but they had still won, they had ripped him away from her, ripped her happiness away from her.
"My brother, Lorenzo, is here," she smiled weakly as the tears ran inside her mouth, a feeble salty taste to them. "He'll take good care of me, pull me together when I need him to. Don't worry about me, Robb, I am strong. I'll be standing long after all the Lannisters are dead." She promised quietly.
"But I'll miss you, Robb. I'll miss you so much you can't even imagine," she sobbed harder into his chest. She tried to make the tears stop but they kept coming out. "You were right all this time. You and I and our children in Winterfell, playing with the snow in the courtyard, that would have made me happy. I would do anything to make that dream come true." She whispered on and on, but the longer she went on, the less her words made sense to a point where even she no longer knew what she was saying or if she was even speaking the common tongue any longer. A random string of words and cries as she kept her palm over his heart until she couldn't feel it anymore.
She lied still next to him, waiting for the next heartbeat. First a few seconds, then a minute quickly followed by another one, but she didn't feel it again. And then the cries turned into curse words as she felt blood rush to her temples in the worst headache she had ever felt before. "This is not how it ends!" She shouted, sitting up abruptly on the mattress, her hair sticking to her face with dried tears. "I will not allow it to end like this," Narcissa howled loudly in the dark room as she straddled his waist.
She fisted her hands together and brought them to his chest, right over his heart and started digging them into his ribcage with all her strength before letting go all at once. Again and again, repeatedly, way past the point where her arms were shaking with effort and she could no longer feel her fingers, tightly laced together. Behind them, the fire was burning high in the hearth, too high. One more inch and it would set the drapes on fire. Despite it all, Narcissa was aware of it and yet she made no move to leave. Let them burn together! At least they would never leave each other that way.
But eventually, even her anger wasn't enough for her to keep going as she fell on his chest, completely exhausted, crying. This was it, this was really it, she muttered to herself, closing her eyes. It was over and there was nothing she could do. He was gone and not coming back. Narcissa started picturing a world without him in it but it was so dark, she couldn't even make it out in her mind.
She started to wonder whether she ought to call for Arya. The girl would most likely want to say goodbye to her eldest brother, Narcissa decided as she pulled herself away from him, her hand on his chest for support. And then she felt it, faintly, almost imperceptible beneath her fingers. Once, twice, thrice. Slowly but rhythmically, steadily.
She picked up his arm abruptly, knowing that it would have hurt him but she didn't care. Her fingers went to his wrist, applying just a little pressure. She felt it again, more strongly.
"Robb!" She cried out, letting his arm fall back on the mattress as her hand anxiously went to his face, cupping his cheek and jaw. "Robb, wake up!" She insisted urgently.
His blue eyes slowly fluttered open and she suddenly felt light as a feather. His eyes were trying to focus on anything, something and Narcissa knew he must be confused and startled after what had happened. She leaned forward to pour him a glass of water on the nightstand and then brought it to his lips, sliding her hand behind his neck to tilt his head forward so he wouldn't choke.
"I'm here, Robb," she promised softly with a grin as she forced him to take a few sips of water. "Everything is okay. It's over." She repeated as his eyes finally appeared to focus on his surroundings and his pupils dilated when they landed on her.
"Cissa." He breathed with difficulty as he tried pulling himself upright, but she carefully pushed him back against the pillows.
"It's me," she smiled, kissing his cheek before moving away from him, settling down next to him instead, suddenly conscious of her weight on his wounds.
Silence settled in then, only broken by her relieved whimpers and the crackling of the fire, which was now burning lower in the fireplace, no longer threatening to burn them both. In a wave of euphoria, Narcissa started kissing every inch of his body as tears continued falling down her face, now in happiness. She wasn't sure how it was possible, maybe the Gods had heard her prayers or maybe he was just that strong, but she didn't care for details. Not when he was next to her, breathing again.
"How is this possible?" He breathed out, his blue eyes wide open and Narcissa diverted her attention from his chest to his face, immediately noticing the deep frown. "I felt myself die, Cissa," he whispered, slowly running his hand through her hair, carefully twisting one strand of dark hair between his index finger and thumb as if he couldn't believe he was really touching it. Robb brought his hand to her cheek then, feeling the wetness between his fingers and he tried brushing the tears away, but it was like he was doing the gesture for the very first time.
"But you didn't, Robb. You didn't," she smiled brightly, removing the hand from her face and taking it between hers, before kissing it. "You're still here and so am I. We're still together."
He watched her smile. It looked both familiar and foreign, as if he had seen it a thousand times before and never at all, at the same time. Her eyes, he knew he had stared into them every day since they'd met but he was only now noticing the fine honey colored lines in the brown pupils for the first time. It felt like she was the only constant in his life and yet, he was rediscovering her again. "I love you," he breathed. That had not changed.
Narcissa was already by the door, throwing it wide open before Robb could even try protesting. Frederico and Leonardo, came rushing in at once, right to his bedside to examine him. Robb tried to pull away but Narcissa appeared in front of him again, taking his hand in hers and kissing it again. "Don't worry, you're safe. These are good people," she promised.
She watched attentively as the healers fussed over him, wanting to be certain it wasn't just her tired mind playing tricks on her. Frederico turned to look at her, a surprised look on his face and Narcissa only felt her smile grow wider. This was real.
"It seems the heart is beating steadily and blood pressure has substantially increased," Leonardo commented to himself before turning to Narcissa. "I suggest strict bed rest for a few weeks, maybe even over a month," he said and Frederico nodded in agreement.
"Great!" Narcissa exclaimed before grabbing both healers by the back of their robes and dragging them to the door. "Have someone bring Arya over when she wakes up." She made her way back to him as soon as they were left alone again.
Robb looked at his wife, a thousand questions in his mind. He never thought he'd see her again. When his eyes closed the last image on mind was Narcissa bludgeoning Roose's head and he had been quite sure that would be the last thing he ever saw. "How?" He breathed out with difficulty even though his throat was no longer dry. "I saw him stab you, in the chest," he murmured, suddenly afraid she was only a mirage, a way to torture him further. Maybe he had died and gone to hell, and he would have her ripped away from him again.
"I was wearing a chain mail," she replied with a short smile, noticing him frown at the words. "It's a long story. But the blade never made it past the metal." Narcissa replied, sitting down on the edge of the mattress, next to him.
"So the baby…?" Robb asked, his face suddenly illuminated with hope as if he hadn't been dying just minutes ago. He remembered clearly, watching her being stabbed twice, first on the chest and then the belly. Even if arrows hadn't started hitting him from everywhere then, he would fallen to his knees all the same at the sight.
It broke her heart to know she would be the bearer of bad news. Edmure, Maege, Clive, they were all dead. So was his mother. And Grey Wind, she didn't even about the dire wolf. "I started bleeding after the second hit," Narcissa admitted, ashamed she hadn't been able to protect their baby. "Not from a wound, there was none, but from…" She whispered, unable to finish her sentence.
"It's not your fault, Cissa," Robb immediately murmured, his eyes boring into hers, somehow knowing what she was thinking. He had been looking forward so much to having a son, already loving his child even though it wasn't yet born but he was alive, so was she. That was more that he would have dared asking for. In due time, maybe, they could try again. "What did the healer say? Are you alright?"
Narcissa averted her gaze to the floor. Despite his words, she knew it was her fault. Her family had never seen it like that, but she knew how things were outside of her home. Women had one purpose, one purpose only, and it was bearing children and she wasn't even capable of that. An utter failure was what she was. "I haven't seen a healer yet," she confessed.
Luckily for her, Arya came barging in then, running right to Robb without missing a beat. He hugged her back despite his injuries but Narcissa could see the way his face twisted with pain as the girl wrapped her arms tightly around her brother.
Narcissa tiptoed to the door, hoping none of them would notice her leave. She closed the wooden door behind herself as quietly as she could. Walking back to her bedchambers to change into proper clothes she noticed the windows had been opened and bright light was streaming through now. They would be alright.
-/-/-/-
"I didn't even know you were coming with the mercenaries," Narcissa said loudly, announcing her presence to her brother who looked like he had been expecting her.
He scoffed before replying. "Father said my little sister was in trouble. I wasn't about to sit still and do nothing."
Narcissa smirked at him, before taking a seat at the same table, purposefully avoiding looking at the floor. "Took you long enough to get here," she commented, finding a half full wine glass on the table and drinking it.
"Bad weather slowed us down, both on sea and on land." He replied sternly and Narcissa looked away, pursing her lips. A slaughter wasn't avoided because of bad weather, how characteristically absurd of life.
"They tried to kill you." Lorenzo stated calmly, twirling his gold dagger between his fingers. Narcissa had always disliked that thing, an ostensible display of wealth that was of very poor taste.
"And they failed." She concluded just as calmly, leaning back against her chair. How she had missed her brother! They had been educated under the same rules, taught the same structure. She felt like an entirely different person when she was with him, like the Narcissa she had been before leaving Essos.
Lorenzo twirled his dagger one last time before throwing it at the wooden door where it forcefully landed in the very middle, only the hilt sticking out. "Their failure doesn't affect the fact that they attempted to murder you, sister," Lorenzo hissed, taking a sip of red wine before spitting it back out. It really wasn't the same quality as back home. "No one can plot to kill a Medici and live to the tell the tale."
Narcissa sighed at his words, almost pointing out the fact that they had in fact succeeded in killing a Medici but decided against it. Her brother was already angry enough as it was and she had never enjoyed his hot-headedness. "Roose Bolton is dead. So is Walder Frey and all his heirs. They didn't live to tell the tale, brother."
"Does that make me the Lord of the Twins, now?" Lorenzo asked sarcastically though he was most likely right. They were the last two Freys in the castle. Narcissa had even made sure Olyvar was executed though she didn't know if he was even involved. "We both know who is behind all this. The Lannisters cannot attack the Medici family and run away free."
"What would you have me do?" Narcissa sighed, rubbing her temples. She was tired to such an extent that a good night's sleep wouldn't change anything. And now Lorenzo had just accidentally reminded her they still needed to deal with Roose's bastard.
"Come with me to Florence and plot their downfall with father. I know he doesn't condemn war but this was a direct attempt on his darling daughter." Her brother replied, making her remember that she had yet to ask about how father was coping as a widower. She hoped Valentino was with him. "He'll hire the Golden Company and their elephants and march them into King's Landing!"
Narcissa smirked at his suggestion. Yes, that was definitely her brother. Brute force. "I am the Queen in the North, Lorenzo. I shall live and die in Westeros." She exhaled deeply, taking a look around the room. The corpses had been removed but blood still littered every surface and arrow stuck out every piece of furniture. Maybe that explained the wine's funny taste. "As for the Golden Company, that is out of question. I am not marching elephants to Westeros only to have them slaughtered for my cause. Besides, those mercenaries cost a fortune."
"Who else can afford them but us?! Before long, not even the Lannisters will, their mines have run dry!" Lorenzo shouted, standing up abruptly before pacing around the room, not carrying to dirty his shoes with blood.
"It's not because we can, that we should. Remember father's words." Narcissa took another look around the room, trying to imagine how it would look once cleaned. Maybe they could turn it into sanctuary for those who had lost their lives in the slaughter. "I know father would hire them if I asked but I refuse he spend so much money for me." Giovanni and Cosimo had not worked their whole lives for her to squander their fortune like this.
"What good is money if we don't spend it to keep the family safe? What good is our name if it doesn't convey respect and fear? " Lorenzo protested, standing right where he had found her the previous night. His little Cissa on her knees, wounded, crying and screaming. That would not go unpunished.
Narcissa was silent, still sitting by the table. Did she really need twenty thousand men? Wasn't one powerful man worth five thousand soldiers? She had managed to control the Signoria during her father's exile without ever setting foot inside the building. Wasn't the same possible with King's Landing?
"I think it's time for me to go outside and thank the soldiers for their service." Narcissa stated, not waiting for her brother's agreement. She wasn't quite sure if they'd welcome her, maybe they'd think she was in on her grandfather's shenanigans but she couldn't leave them in the dark about what was going on inside the keep.
The hallway was eerily quiet and empty. The sound of her heels clicking on the stone echoed under the high ceilings. Narcissa stopped for a moment once she was sufficiently far back to enjoy the new art pieces. Bloody bedsheets hung on one side of the double doors while Roose's skin decorated the stone wall on the other side. Now this was art.
Four guards pulled open the gates as they saw her approach, respectfully bowing their heads at her with whispers of 'your Grace' but Narcissa was mesmerized by the sight in front of her. Rows and rows of spikes with their enemies' heads adorned the courtyard. She recognized Black Walder's first and decided then that his skull would make a very useful lantern once the crows had finished their job.
Narcissa descended the stairs as a fresh gush of wind hit her face, smelling of death. Will everything smell of death from now, she couldn't help but wonder. Will there ever be a day when she won't see the image of a dying Robb as soon as she closes her eyes? Narcissa mounted her horse on her own for the very first time and was surprised to succeed on the first attempt.
She rode out of the courtyard into the fields surrounding the castle where the tents had been set up. Carmel stepped on dozens of corpses as Narcissa toured part of the encampment. Every man stopped what he was doing as she rode past them, dressed entirely black with a lace dress the same color as a raven. "The angel of the night," she heard a Stark soldiers speak.
Slowly the men started gathering around her. Narcissa noticed there were about as many Stark soldiers left as there were mercenaries, but she also remarked that none of them wore defeat on their face, all looking about as angry as she felt.
"Yesterday," Narcissa bellowed loudly for every man to hear, "a slaughter took place in this very site. We lost Lady Catelyn Stark, Lord Edmure Tully, Lady Maege Mormont, Clive Havield and many more men I am ashamed to admit their names I do not know though I grieve for them all the same."
"Yesterday, I failed you as your Queen. I led you into this place, into this massacre believing that we were safe in my grandfather's home. I apologize to all of you, to every Northern and Riverland Man and Woman and Child for not having been able to foresee and prevent this."
"Today, I stand before you as a humbled Queen and woman. The loss we all suffered last night will never be fully compensated but seeing our enemies' heads on spikes in the courtyard was a first step in that direction. Walder Frey and Roose Bolton paid for their treason with their lives, I saw to it myself and I invite you all to visit the great hall. The Lannisters won't escape either, that I can promise you."
"Last night, they tried to assassinate their Queen and yet she stands here before you today," Narcissa stopped for a moment to catch her breath and heard the men cheering around her. "Last night, they tried to assassinate their King and yet Robb Stark is still in that castle behind me, living and breathing as we speak." She announced, immediately spotting the relief on every man's faith. "Last night, they tried to defeat the Kingdom of the North and they failed!"
"Today, we tend to our wounded, bury our dead and mourn our losses. They think we are dead, they think they have defeated us. Let them!" Narcissa shouted and was met with confused stares as expected.
"Today is Hour Zero. Today we begin anew, from our ashes. Stone by stone, step by step until we are stronger than we ever were before. And then, we take the Lannisters by surprise just as they did to us!"
Narcissa rode off, back to courtyard, surrounded by Robb's men, her men and their cheers. Brave people they were, able to laugh and smile so soon after the massacre. She felt jealous of them. They carry out orders with the strength of their bodies while Narcissa would lock herself in a room, trying to find some way to clean this mess. For now, she had managed to cut all communication with the rest of the continent but she wasn't sure how long she could keep their survival a secret. Weeks most likely, months if they were quite lucky.
She was heading straight to her late grandfather's office when she felt two pairs of hands lift her up by her arms and shoulders. Narcissa tried to kick the men, hoping to set herself free but they were quick to subdue. Lorenzo and the Blackfish were carrying her in the opposite direction, to her bedchambers. Her brother kicked open the door and Brynden carried her to bed. She tried to get up just as soon as her back had touched the mattress but he held her down as Frederico and Leonardo made their way inside the room.
"Don't even think about running off because he and I will be standing guard outside and you won't get past us," her brother said, pointing at Brynden before leaving her alone with the healers.
"I know you don't want to be examined, but your brother is very worried about you, Narcissa." Frederico said, putting on a clean robe over his clothes as Leonardo lit a few more candles for light.
Narcissa sighed with resignation, arranging the pillow behind her head. "Just get it over with," she ordered in a groan.
It took longer than she had expected. She complied with every instruction – turning on her side when asked, pulling up her dress and parting her legs when instructed to and kept her mouth shut when they listened to her heartbeat. Frederico rubbed a balm over the hematomas on her breast and belly as Leonardo wrote something down on a piece of paper after palping her stomach. This was ridiculous, really. She knew what they would say, she wasn't a healer but she wasn't stupid either.
She ripped the parchment from Leonardo's hand, managing to read just 'detached placenta' before he grabbed the paper back. She watched as they moved to the far end of the room and started talking in hushed voices. Her examination was over and she got dressed. She opened the door and found there was no one outside. They had lied to her, she thought with dry amusement.
Narcissa picked up a fast pace as she finally headed to the Lord's office and locked herself inside it. Finally, she was alone for the first time since the wedding. Finally able to be herself, she grabbed a liquor bottle and a glass from a small table by the door. She set both things down on the desk and sat on the fancy chair. She poured herself a drink, filling up the glass to the rim and drank it all until her head started spinning. She didn't have a baby Stark to worry about no more. Maybe Robb would even find himself another wife in time if it turned out she was no longer able to conceive after her miscarriage.
She filled her cup again, emptying the bottle in the process and threw it against the wall where it exploded into a thousand pieces. Narcissa lifted her legs and rested them on the desk before lifting her glass in front of her as if wanting to give a toast. "To my enemies' failure," she scoffed drily and then drowned the whole cup all at once, a burning sensation in her throat.
She knew that in King's Landing a small council meeting would be held as soon as they received news of the slaughter, celebrating their Lannister victory and the Stark's defeat. She could almost imagine the crude jokes that would be shared around their fancy table. No doubt they would be calling the wolf bitch who lost her pup. Would they ask for their heads as proof or would the letter be sufficient, she wondered. Maybe she'd try to find three similar looking heads later in the courtyard.
Narcissa tried to picture every person who would be sitting in the council room miles and miles away from her. Tywin at the head, no doubt. Maybe the cowardly king would make an appearance, even if only to taunt Tyrion. She knew Tyrion would be there too. Would he laugh at the news with the others, celebrate her death? Somehow she couldn't imagine him doing it. They were friends even if they had only met once.
The Queen Mother would be there too. Robb had once told how she dressed fancily, draped in expensive fabric and jewelry. Most likely to forgot the fact that her late husband preferred spending his time with whores instead of with her, he had told her in their tent. "Queen Mother." The words tasted bitter in her tongue. Would she ever be a Queen Mother herself? Would Cersei Lannister laugh when she found out a pregnant woman had been slaughtered, or would there be an ounce of motherly compassion that would prevent her from enjoying those news? Narcissa didn't care much about the woman's reaction. They had taken her daughter, she would take hers. Myrcella was it? She didn't remember exactly but she did know the girl was in Dorne with Oberyn.
And then her mind wandered to the only other person she was sure would be sitting by that table – Petyr Baelish, or Littlefinger as his foes called him for friends he had not. What did Littlefinger want? The Lannisters, it was obvious enough. They were family and they wanted the throne. But Littlefinger? He was smart enough to know a throne was a dangerous place to sit your arse on. Kings had a tendency to lose their heads after all. Money, yes, everyone wanted money. Even she wanted it even though she had been born in a golden crib. But there came a point where you had enough of it, it stopped being your first craving. He had brothels all around King's Landing and those were very lucrative businesses no matter where in the world. Lorenzo on his own had most likely turned the local brothel holder in Florence into a rich man, Narcissa reflected with a smirk. Yes, money wasn't it.
What could a man who already had it all still want? Dragons? They were extinct except if the rumors in Essos were true. Titles? Titles meant nothing when you already wielded all the power.
"What do I want?" Narcissa asked herself, staring outside through the open window. "I have money, I have a title, I have a throne. But what do I want?" She wondered, speaking to herself. Many would have believed her crazy, talking to herself, but she didn't truly care about other people's opinions. Except Robb's.
The realization of it made her slap her first on the desk as she pulled her legs back down. With new energy, Narcissa grabbed a clean piece of parchment and dipped the tip of the feather into the inkwell. Some wars were won with swords, others with ink and ravens. It was a risk, Baelish could decide to share her letter with the Lannisters but somehow she knew he wouldn't, not when she promised him his heart's desire.
Dear Lord Baelish,
We have not corresponded before and yet I write to you now with an offer you cannot refuse. As you will have realized after reading this letter, the Boltons and the Freys were defeated at the Twins. The wolves, however, continue howling in the night.
Having been a widow for over a year, Lady Catelyn Stark finds herself in need of a new husband and who is more appropriate for the role than her longtime childhood friend?
Alas, as you will understand, the hand of such a highborn lady come at a high price. The King in the North will offer you his mother's hand in marriage on two conditions: Bringing Lady Sansa Stark to us safe and sound, and assassinating the bastard king, Joffrey.
With our very highest regards,
Lady Narcissa de Medici-Stark, Queen in the North and Lord Robb Stark, King in the North.
Robb is still here! I'm not that cruel!
I'm on holidays now, which means I have more time to write but since from now on, there will be major divergences with the show, I don't how long updates will take. But I'll do my best to update regularly!
No spoilers from season 8, but I've just watched the three first episodes and I'm enjoying this season (and season 7, too) so much that I really want to write my take on that, so I intend to cover that timeline in this story :)
Thank you for the feedback and the follows/likes etc. Not only do they make me happy, but they encourage me to write whenever I have some free time which means regular updates ;)