Chapter 10
Robb POV
"So, exactly which areas of murder and revenge would you like to discuss?" I say pathetically – when you use a conversation starter like that, you know things are getting pathetic.
"Well, I'm sure you'll agree that we'd both like to talk about the heinous things we'd like to do to Joffrey Lannister and his family. But a) we can't make assumptions, and b) you saw what happened today when you got on the wrong side of Joffrey." Daenerys's signature matter-of-fact tone echoes down the phone line.
"I follow your logic." I quip back at her, and I mean it. Daenerys can make the most complex of situations seem crystal clear.
"But I was thinking about everything that's happened to you, and I honestly think it's Mr Baelish we should worry about."
"Mr Baelish?" The way I see it, the grey-haired headmaster of my school may be able to crush dreams and ruin reputations, and hide himself behind walls of intricate deceit, but he doesn't even begin the pose the same kind of threat to my family as the likes of Joffrey.
"Yep." Daenerys replies, with a touch of cynicism. "He said the whole thing 'required further investigation'." She imitates Mr Baelish's pompous voice for the last three words. I laugh a little at her attempt at lightening the mood. She does the same, her laugh breathy and high-pitched, but quickly sobers up, and continues her monologue.
"And what'll that further investigation involve? Baelish just having a quick chat with Joffrey and you, and later both your mums, and maybe another with some of your friends? Getting their sides of the story, and working out who's in the wrong? I don't think so. Mr Baelish won't do what's ethical, like you would if you were headmaster. He'll do whatever suits him best."
I suppose that should've been obvious. That I couldn't trust Mr Baelish to sort out the matter and make everyone involved forget about it, like I could with the gentler teachers in the school. But it wasn't immediately obvious. I was so sidetracked with figuring out whether the Lannisters were innocent or guilty, that I didn't see the treacherous threat lying right in front of me, who could turn the case against my favour, if the need took him. And of course, Daenerys is the one to point it out to me.
"You've got a point." I say casually, as if I already knew what she said about Mr Baelish, and she simply put my thoughts into sentences. "But we can't exactly spy on his office all day, every day, listening in to his conversations with Joffrey and Cersei and my mother, can we?"
"No. Of course we can't. But if we know that we can't trust Mr Baelish to find out the truth about your father's death and clear your name, we have to do it ourselves. Which is scary, I'll admit, but you can't hide behind naïve ideas like the school always being willing to help you. I am the one willing to help you."
Her saying things like this make me forget about Mr Baelish, and Joffrey, and my father being dead, if only for a second. "Thank you, Daenerys. You don't have to blindly give me your loyalty so quickly." I know I promised to help her too, but I still wonder if there's more to Daenerys's sudden devotion than meets the eye.
"There's an old saying in my family." Daenerys has a wistful, yet regretful, note in her voice, the way she always does when she discusses her past. "My ancestors used to get tattoos of it, or chant it at parties. 'Fire and Blood'. My father took it a bit literally, and my brother's starting to go the same way. Burning things, and stabbing things…" she trails off. "But I think it's less about actual fire and blood, and more about the passion. The passion with which you execute revenge, the passion with which you take back the things that are rightfully yours, the passion with which you bring honour to your family. And, Robb Stark, you don't need to be a Targaryen to have that kind of passion. As long as you keep a hold of the fire and blood within you, I am willing to help."
"And as long as you're still passionate about being a successful Targaryen, I'm willing to help you too."
"You'll be helping me a very long time, then." Daenerys whispers into the phone, with the same passion she described only a minute ago. I hear a deep voice yelling angrily from the other end of the phone line.
"Oh, that'll be my brother." Daenerys sighs, in a way anyone would've said was too casual a response to the cries of fury I was hearing. "I should go. We'll talk more about finding truths and clearing names at school tomorrow."
She hangs up the phone. For a while, I just lie there on the bed, the phone beside my ear, thinking about her. I'm still unsure of whether having someone like Daenerys as an accomplice will be a help or a hindrance to my plans of…whatever I plan to do with all the issues at my fingertips. At the moment, despite everything she said on the phone, I'm thinking hindrance. Hindrance because of the way her silvery blonde hair surrounding her ever-thoughtful features has imprinted itself on my mind, hindrance because of her wistful tones replaying over and over in my head, hindrance because of how she destroyed every expectation I had of her. Robb, I tell myself. There's an entire family who you suspect of murder, and there's a headmaster who could turn against you at any time, and instead you're obsessing over the girl who's meant to just be helping you? Stop, Robb. Stop. Please.
Daenerys POV
Viserys just had to end my conversation with Robb, didn't he? It's a shame our common goal of success for our family makes it so hard to hate him. I walk into the hall of our apartment, which doubles as a very limited kitchen. I'm not sure why I do that, though, considering I can hear him perfectly well from the bedroom.
"Hi, Viserys," I say calmly. The way to handle my brother's random fits of rage is to pretend it's all a normal conversation, and wait until all his emotions have dissolved.
"I heard you on the phone," he seethes, through gritted teeth, slinging the duffel bag he takes to work forcefully on the ground. "You're the last hope our family has of getting anything good out of going to school, and you're spending the first afternoon of your final year not doing the work you desperately need to do, but rather…socialising?"
"It was someone from school. I wanted some help with a paper we both have to write." I lean against the countertop, trying to talk and act as casually as I can, though my brother isn't buying it. I can't persuade him like I can other people; all my persuasive techniques were learnt from him.
"Hmmm." He says, unconvinced. "If you're going to waste our phone bills, at least waste them on Drogo."
"Drogo?"
He sighs. "I told you. At the start of summer holiday, remember? He's the leader of a weird hipster clique in your form. Obsessed with having a more traditional lifestyle, or something. Like, riding horses and stuff." Now that he'd gone into detail, I did remember the name, and seeing his clique around school.
"Basically, there are a hell of a lot of them in this clique, and most of them don't really have any particular familial loyalty. So if we make them loyal to the two of us, we have twenty or so more people who want nothing but success and reputation for our family. They could even help when we get the family company running again! They're hard-working, traditional people, right? Anyway, all you need to do is befriend Drogo. Or perhaps more. You're growing up to be somewhat pretty, you know, Daenerys." What should have been a compliment comes off as reluctant, a pathetic way to excuse a glorified forced relationship with this Drogo guy.
"I'll consider it." I say curtly, hiding the conflicted emotions inside of me, and walk back to the bedroom.
Lying down on my squeaky camp mattress, squeezed between those of Viserys and Jorah, I think through what I've just heard. If Viserys had told me about this before today, I would have been neutral, or even willing to comply with his plans. After all, Drogo's clique doesn't sound too bad; "traditional lifestyle" is a fairly innocent-sounding phrase. But then again, before today I didn't know Robb Stark. Robb Stark, who I seemed to have a natural need to help, protect and avenge. Robb Stark, who I wish I'd known in calmer times. Robb Stark, who probably thinks of me as nothing more than a sidekick in his plans for revenge.
A/N: Hi, I'm back! Just a heads up: since the story's been very Robb/Dany storyline-heavy recently, in the next couple of chapters I'll probably be focusing more on Joffrey/Sansa storyline, and probably also bring in Renly and the Tyrells, which I've been planning for a while. Hope that's okay!