Chapter 17:
She was alone and surrounded by enemies over the following days. Isabel was confined to a tent that had two guards stationed outside at all times, making it impossible for her to escape. Even if she tried, there was no way that she could have escaped undetected. The whereabouts of her men were unknown, and Ser Tommas was no where to be seen. Even if she managed the impossible and evaded the Lannister guards, she was sure she would not last the night in the open fields of the Riverlands where the rumoured Brotherhood now ravaged civilians and soldiers alike.
So she sat and she waited like a lame lamb. Tywin Lannister had forbid her from sending any ravens, save for two instructed letters – one to the Eyrie, informing her lords of her well-being, and the other to Robb Stark and his army.
What have I done?
It was a stupid decision coming here, and she mentally yelled at herself for being so stubborn in her ways. She knew the danger, and yet her arrogance had willfully blinded her to recognize the true danger in her actions.
She had wanted so badly to prove her worth, she had willingly fed herself to the lions – and now they had her by the throat.
No one would give her any answers in the camp, and the only time she received company was a page boy who gave her food and water everyday. Tywin and his brother, Ser Kevan had not visited her and she was left clueless of the world around her.
Her stomach curled at the thought of returning to King's Landing, as she was now forced to head back into the fighting pits. Lord Varys, Petyr Baelish, Cersei Lannister….they'll all pull her from different directions in an attempt to use her for their own means. It was a tiresome game that she no longer wanted to play. She thought her time was done – she had the Vale in her hands, but her arrogance and greed had begged her to continue to play this dangerous game.
And now she would pay the price.
The tent of the flap lifted and she immediately stood up to see who it was. "I demand to be released back to the Vale at once. I have done nothing wrong to be deserved this treatment," she yelled.
"Be grateful…your lucky my father didn't kill you on the spot, or give you to the knights," he replied.
Tyrion Lannister was now dressed in his red leather armour, and standing tall and proud, a most ironic scene in Isabel eyes. Only days earlier was he the prisoner, and she herself who yielded the power.
"What is going on?" she asked in defeat, "Nobody is telling me anything."
He looked somberly at her, and his eyes glanced at the floor before he looked up again. "The king is dead."
She stepped back a few times, as she tried to balance herself. The king is dead. Four little words that weighed so heavy on her heart. The king is dead.
"He ca-cannot…" she whispered, but could not find her voice to finish her sentence.
"You are to return to King's Landing immediately," he instructed.
"Have you heard anything about Ned Stark? Is he alive?" she asked, wondering what his condition was since she last saw him.
"That's…partially the reason why my father has decided to send you back at once. It appears that Ned Stark, has denounced my young nephew as the rightful heir. My sister has placed him under arrest under charges of treason. I'm told it was quite the showdown when it happened. With the Hand now disposed, my father believes that your presence back at court will help dissolve some tension. Let's be honest my Lady, you're the only one who can control Varys and Baelish. We need you there."
"No one can control them," she bitterly spat.
She covered her face on her hands, letting the information sink in. Her mind raced to Sansa and Arya Stark, and to Lord Varys and Petyr Baelish.
I will take as many lives as it takes, a sinister voice whispered in her head.
This was her fault, she told herself. None of this would have happened if only she had the courage and honour to speak out against Varys and not give into his devilish ways.
"Robb Stark marches south, I assume then. To avenge his father's honour.," she found herself saying.
"He's crossed the Twins, and makes his way down to meet us. We are to ride out in the morning to meet his army. He's only a green boy who still plays with wooden swords. It's hardly a fair match, in my opinion. If and when he joins forces with the Tullys, my father will still crush them."
"Then you underestimate your enemies my Lord, a most foolish thing to overlook."
"No seasoned warrior would follow the young wolf into battle."
"No seasoned warrior would follow a woman into battle, and yet here I am in the middle of all this."
"I do not see an army behind you, Lady Isabel."
"Then I will ask you to wait until you see the houses of the Vale ride from the horizon to meet your father, and then you will meet the army that I command."
"A bold statement for someone who is currently a prisoner in my camp," he dryly commented.
"It is a promise you will meet for the offence you and your family have committed against me, and this realm. You Lannisters have plunged this country into war."
"I do believe it was Lady Catelyn Stark who started of all this, when she decided to ambush me at Crossroads Inn. My family is innocent of this mess."
"Then are you truly blinded by your own arrogance," she commented.
"If my arrogance allows me to be proud of my family, then I apologize for the offence. Though, I would say we all are then guilty of that fault."
"Tyrion…" she pleaded warily, "What of my men?"
He paused for a moment, unsure of what to say. He knew they had all been sent to die, with some of the lords and knights of the noble houses kept prisoner for good measure. They would not be given an execution's death, however. Even his own father could recognize that would be a waste of some good soldiers. No, Tywin would use them in his war plans; a diversion, or bait to draw his enemies out. Either way, the Valemen Isabel brought with her was sure to meet their deaths.
"There is no mercy in war," he simply stated.
"Ser Tommas?" she asked hesitantly.
"Don't worry…your knight is safe for the time being. But I cannot say the same for the others."
She closed her eyes. "I have just sent one thousand men to their deaths then."
"A small price to pay. Be grateful it was their lives and not yours."
"Is that what you tell yourself at night before you sleep? A thousand lives for your own? Are our lives worthy of such a sacrifice?"
"Why do you think wars are started? Thousands die for the advancement of one great individual. They die because they love us. History remembers the victors; it does not speak of the foot soldiers that lie dead in the ground. History remembers the kings, not the common people. It is just the way it is…how it's always been, how it always will be. Thousands will die for you, their blood spilled for you. And in return, we continue to fight for their sacrifice, because as soon as we give up, their lives will have meant nothing."
"It's not fair," she whispered.
"War is not fair, Lady Isabel. It is a gruesome and nasty thing, and you better get used to it. The ultimate sacrifice must be made if you want to keep your head and win this war."
"Have I not made enough sacrifices? What more must I give?"
"Everything you have. Everything you hold dear. Your fears, your dreams, your hopes. You must already think yourself as dead, so your fears will not hold you back. Only then can you attain all that you desire."
Power corrupts the soul, the voice whispered in her head.
"All this…all in the name for power," she said bitterly, "We war for the most obscure idea created by men. A most seductive illusion that has entrapped us in her beauty."
"And what a beautiful thing she is."
King's Landing was in chaos when word broke out that the Hand of the King was arrested for treason. Their king was dead, and the country was already at war. Hundreds of villagers from the Riverlands had begun to flock the city, congesting the streets and creating havoc for the City Watch.
Chaos was quickly unfolding and all Petyr Baelish could do was smile as he looked out to the city as he stood along the castle's walls.
Ned Stark was a fool to have given away his most powerful tool against the Lannisters. If he was anything like a shrew politician, he could have used the Lannister's secret to his advantage. But he was too honourable – and honour never kept anyone alive in King's Landing.
And he certainly wasn't going to share Ned Stark's fate.
No, Petyr Baelish only looked out for himself, especially in times of war. It was the only way to survive, and the only way to win.
He proceeded to walk back towards the castle, when he was stopped by Lord Varys who was hiding in the shadows like the little spider he was.
"Our little bird returns to us," Lord Varys chimed in.
"Lady Isabel?" he asked in surprise.
"It may seem that she ran into a little trouble while pursuing Robert's mission for peace. Taken hostage by the Lannisters, and now they send her back into their lion's den, where they hope she dare not run away."
"It was an ambitious endeavor, but a foolish one," he commented, "Women do not know the ways of men's heart. It is not so easily done to persuade a man to stop fighting one another."
"She has what neither of us has then," he observed, "Hope."
"Hope for what? Peace? Peace is but a concept conceived by women and men with weak hearts who are too afraid to face the harsh realities that we create for ourselves. We've always been at war, since the beginning of the First Men, and we always will until this world has ceased to exist."
Varys gave a knowing smile, "Hope is but a distant dream where all men wish to have. Power, love, money, land. Our dreams exist only to fuel our hopes to achieve the unattainable."
"And now I wonder what your hopes and dreams are, Lord Varys."
"I have none, my Lord. I've given my life to the realm. I have no ambitions, no desires, and no dreams. I am but a humble servant to the Iron Throne."
"And yet you scheme and plot like any other man. You pull and push these nobles to your liking. You mean to tell me that all you do is not to your own advantage? Its so tempting, is it not? You know all the little secrets. You can easily bring down the Iron Throne and claim it for yourself."
"As can you, and yet we choose to remain on the sides and keep our heads down."
"I simply wait until the time is right to strike."
"As do I, Lord Baelish…..as do I."
Isabel laid in her makeshift bed and stared out onto the floor, unable to sleep, unable to blink and unable to move. Her eyes remained wide open, still shocked about all the events that were unfolding so fast in front of her. It seemed like only yesterday when her father was still alive, and she herself felt safe and innocent.
How did it come to this?
She felt defeated, and the willpower to keep fighting grew less and less in her heart. What was the point to fight for her desires, if she had no one to share it with?
After what seemed like an eternity, the weight of her eyelids slowly began to close, and she found herself drifting away into the dream world – the one place where all her wishes came true.
She curled her body close to his, and the arm around her tightened its grip to hold her tight. He wrapped his black coat around them, and the furs of his cloak tickled her neck, sending cool shivers down her neck. They stayed like this, underneath the blanket of stars beneath the grass for hours. Neither spoke, but merely held each other in each others arms.
A cold drop landed on Isabel's nose and eyelashes before they both realized that snow was beginning to fall from the sky. She put her hand out, hoping to catch the snowflakes but was quickly met with Robb's hand as he intertwined their fingers. He rolled over so his body hovered over her own, engulfed underneath his cloak and in between the warmness of their bodies.
His lips came down to meet hers, and she was quick to deepen their kiss and allowed his hands to roam along the spine of her back and into her hair. In suit, her hands wrapped around his neck as his lips moved to the outline of her jaw line until his lips kiss the delicate skin near her ears, sending a small groan of desire through her lips. As their lips parted, they gazed silently into one another eyes, and no words were spoken,
No words needed be spoken. They desired one another; they needed one another.
"I must be dreaming," she whispered.
"Only if you believe it to be," he answered as he stroked her cheek.
"A stolen moment, then?" she wondered, "Neither past, present or future?"
"A moment I would wish to live in forever."
"Do we dare to wish such a dream?"
"Only if you're afraid to, my love."
"I am though," she said sadly.
"Why?"
"I am afraid to lose you Robb," she confessed.
"Then you have nothing to fear, because I'm not going anywhere."
She smiled at him, her eyes filling with hope. "Promise?"
"You and me. And nobody else…I promise you."
Their lips met again, their bodies intertwined underneath the blanket of snow and shining stars. Their worries forgotten and their hearts lost between one another.
A/N: Short, but sweet. I greatly apologize for the lack of Isabel/Robb moments. I beg you to be patient with me! Our little bird still needs to go through hurdles first! xoxo