Sorry for the long wait. I had some trouble with this chapter because of the consequences it could have. Comments about these decisions are appreciated.

It's a bit longer than usual, so here it is. Hope you enjoy.

Chapter 48 : A Wolf's New Fur

The Red Keep seemed to be infested with things he disliked. Robb just wanted to get rid of everything that could be a reminder of the Lannisters ever living in that place. He also wanted to erase the signs of murder, betrayal and blood that were staining each room. It sickened him to believe his sisters had been kept prisoners, that those thick walls hid secrets that had finally cost his father's life, and especially that the same people who were begging for their lives and offering services to him were the ones who had conspired to kill him in the past.

"Your Grace, you need to do this as quickly as possible. Your advisors-"

"My advisors will be chosen by me!" Robb exclaimed, clearly agitated with the demands Lord Varys was making.

It had been Dany who had stopped him from kicking the eunuch out of the castle and stripping him from all his titles. He had been ready for their arrival. In fact, he had organized a small group of servants to prepare certain rooms. Robb had cleverly agreed with him staying, but all his servants being replaced – Dany assured him that wouldn't be enough to stop the Spider from snooping around, but at least they had narrowed down the chances.

In that moment, Robb found himself sat at the head of the table, while his banners sat around it. To those men were added Petyr Baelish and Varys. Most of the other lords had died or escaped, which Robb thought fortunate, considering how little sympathy he had for them.

"As you wish," Varys replied in a small voice, ducking his head.

Robb was about to speak again when the doors of the room opened. The guards looked thoroughly ashamed as they made room for Daenerys to walk inside, with Ser Barristan and Theon following.

"Have I not been invited?" she teased. She seemed to glide over the floor in her long and pale silver silk gown. "Or do I need permission from the King?"

Robb smirked. "You're free to go wherever you wish to go. I believe nothing can be worse than these men fighting over titles and who will take what." He glared at some, and then his gaze lingered on Roose Bolton, who had been terribly quiet.

"May I make some suggestions?" Dany asked while she moved closer to Robb. All men's gazes were on her when Greywind joined her side and let himself be petted on his massive head; they all had seen the direwolf yanking arms and legs off their enemies during battle, and now he was as docile as a puppy next to her.

"If it'll ease my burden."

"Lord Varys has done a very good job as Master of Whispers. I sincerely trust he cares for the interest of the Seven Kingdoms."

"As long as they agree with his," some lord mumbled.

Dany didn't bother to raise her eyes and search for the culprit. "That's right, but if so, he always prepared for when you arrived, Wolf." She smiled at Robb.

"Is that so?" Robb spat towards the Spider, who kept himself with a peaceful expression on his face.

"You hear things here and there. Little birds sing songs of praise too, Your Grace," he replied cryptically.

"All right, since at the moment I believe you, you'll stay. Just don't be too comfortable."

Varys bowed his head, his ever present smile on his lips unnerving Robb to some degree. There was something about people south of the neck that always made his hair stand on end. He would never trust them completely.

"Not at all," Dany remarked. Then she turned to Robb once more. "Should you inform them about your decision regarding Tyrion?"

In the room it could be heard the noise of chairs scratching the floor as the men shifted uncomfortably.

It was known by all of them that Tyrion had been taken prisoner long before the siege of King's Landing. It had been Cersei who had charged him with many crimes, one that included Sansa's escape. Robb was aware of such. His sister had told him how close she and Ser Jorah had been from being discovered in their escape, but the Imp had allowed them to leave without calling the attention of guards. Robb knew that as much as Tyrion was the same blood as Cersei and Tywin, he was not the same. He owed life to the man.

"He'll be released," Robb muttered. He frowned at nothing in particular and then turned to Smalljon. "And I need him here as soon as possible. Send someone to fetch him."

Despite the murmurs around the room, no one complained. They knew it was a sore subject to speak about the rescue of Robb's sisters. It had been difficult and he had rewarded each person who had helped him reunite his family.

"If I may, Your Grace," Littlefinger said with that sly tone he usually used. "Before you continue forming your council, I must inform you I will not be able to continue performing my duties as Master of Coin."

"Is that so?" Dany asked, feigning honest curiosity and also using a very docile voice that hid her inner fire. Robb looked at her for a moment too long, quickly realizing that now she would be playing a game. She was hiding her claws until she deemed it necessary.

"It doesn't matter as with this debt, I think you did a poor job," Robb snapped. "Your advice was probably terrible."

Dany snickered, as did some other men when Petyr Baelish cleared his throat.

"Well, if I could explain. The demands of past kings-"

"You cannot," Robb sentenced.

Littlefinger, instead of losing his temper or looking ashamed, grinned. "Your Grace, what would your Lady Mother say? She and I have been friends for so long, and yet you treat me like a stranger."

"What would she say?" Robb slammed his hands against the table and stood up. Greywind's neck's hair stood on end while lowly growling. "She'd wonder why if you could've protect her late husband you didn't. And why if you claim to be such a good friend, you stayed with the enemy."

"I only intended to be helping from here. Your dear aunt Lysa knows this."

"She wasn't of help either," Robb grumbled. "So you can go, but half of your fortune will stay here, to help us rebuild our kingdoms." Robb smiled sardonically. "Since you've been so graceful to help us from here, I'm sure you understand. After all, the last kings seemed to have squandered the resources they had."

"Your Grace-"

"Sounds quite fair to me. Doesn't it, Lord Baelish?" Dany provided, seemingly distracted as she smoothed her dress. "A small price to pay for keeping you alive when everyone else is, well, not."

Littlefinger's smile vanished. "A very just King. Absolutely," he spoke through clenched teeth.

"Well, you can go now. You're no longer needed here," Robb continued, motioning for him to go. "You're not part of the council any longer, so these matters are none of your concern."

Greatjon let out a raucous laughter that some others joined as Littlefinger was escorted out of the room.

From the beginning, Robb was aware that many of the northmen weren't fit to carry on with the tasks the council demanded. They were fierce and loyal like no other men would ever be, but they disliked the duties behind a desk, making counts and sweet talking other lords. Robb counted himself among them, even if he had been raised to become lord one day.

"Continuing, Ser Wendel Manderly will be Master of Ships, if you agree," Robb said, looking at the massive man almost directly in front of him. Wendel Manderly smiled and nodded his head before he expressed his agreement in usual boisterous fashion. "Master of Laws, as previously agreed, will go to Randyll Tarly." The older man only harrumphed, his face stoic and chin up. "Now, as a proof of gratitude, Price Doran Martell was granted the title of Master of Coin. Given that it's not possible for him to leave Dorne, he has sent his brother, Prince Oberyn Martell."

Oberyn bowed his head, while smiling. Robb couldn't help but notice the intent way in which he stared at Dany. Even if the action bothered him, Robb decided to let it go, as he had to admit his Queen was the only woman in the room and one of the most beautiful in Westeros and beyond.

"I believe Ser Barristan has agreed to return as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard," Robb stated, looking at the man once again in splendid uniform. It had taken a lot of Dany's coaxing to get Ser Barristan to accept, but he had done it for her. She claimed there was no one else she trusted with the life of her husband and King.

Robb glanced at Dany's shy smile and then turned to the rest of the men once more.

"We still await for the Conclave's decision about the new Grand Maester, since maester Pycelle was unfortunately killed during battle," Robb muttered while staring at Robin Flint, who didn't look very apologetic regarding the subject. "Finally, the Hand." Robb sighed and threw a look at Dany.

Neither of them was happy with the decision, but they saw it as a test. For a moment Robb seemed with his mind set on having his mother as Hand, which would be controversial. But as Dany had pointed out, he needed to set aside his image of young boy and also let his mother help Bran and Sansa who were still learning the duties they would need to perform in the future.

They both knew there wasn't many people who were both trustworthy and also sufficiently skilled to be Hand. Robb had pondered on the possibility of making his uncle Edmure fill the position, but given that he was the only son of his grandfather, that would leave Riverrun unprotected. The Blackfish would never take the position unless it was absolutely necessary – he was already complaining about having to look after the Westerlands.

"Given his commitment to our cause, his great advice on the battlefield, and courageousness, perhaps Lord Bolton would accept this honor," Robb said in an overtly expressive tone.

The Lord of the Dreadfort smiled almost imperceptibly, before replying. "It's an honor I would graciously accept."

Daenerys smiled too sweetly for Robb's taste. "And let's never forget the fate of the Hands before you. May the Seven and the Old Gods keep their souls. We wouldn't wish you the same fate, Lord Bolton."

Robb could almost taste the threat behind Dany's words. It was just as they had talked about. Most men in the Small Council hated Roose Bolton, and therefore would keep a close eye on him. Every decision he made would be known by Robb, and at the first moment he gave him a reason, they would dispose him. Since Edmure's wedding, Robb still had trouble trusting Roose Bolton.

"That's all for now," Robb finally sentenced. Many of the northmen were sweating profusely, as was Robb. They all welcomed the rest, since even if winter was fast approaching, King's Landing was still too warm for them.

After they had been left alone, Dany giggled at him and his discomfort as he tugged on the collar of his clothes.

"I feel trapped in here. Suffocating. And you think it's amusing." He hadn't had time to get accustomed to the weather or the place, for that matter. Robb could only say he didn't like it. He'd much rather be outside, training or riding his horse. Being a king certainly felt more like a duty than a pleasurable activity, which made him wonder why so many men had fought for the title.

She laughed and then approached him, taking his face with one hand, angling so he would look at her. "You'll need new clothes, but don't worry since this is the last of summer we'll see."

Robb's hand covered her protruding belly. It seemed that now she had stopped hiding it, and for that he was grateful. His daughter was growing inside Dany, and this time pregnancy had been much merciful with her. Robb was sure mother and daughter would be very similar.

"She will be born in peace," he muttered. "Now we can have a family and care for our children the proper way."

She beamed at him. "You are a unique man, my wolf. Any other would only care for power and his new lands. You speak to me about family and children." Dany took his hands in hers and rose on tiptoes to press a playful kiss to his mouth. "I do hope our reign becomes a much prosper one. I trust you."

"And I trust your advice will also be of assistance, Dany. You and I will rule the Seven Kingdoms. Together."

"Together," she repeated.

-o-

"Your Grace?"

Robb was wandering around the Godswood, thinking to himself that he would need to order for it to be tended with more care, as it would surely become a spot for him to think and search for solitude whenever he felt overwhelmed.

At the moment, Greywind was doing some reconnaissance of their new home, sniffing around.

Robb turned and found before him a beautiful woman in a green dress. Her olive skin seemed to glisten under the sun, as her thick black hair. Her eyes shot him a shy and sultry look. She was covered in jewelry; she was clearly highborn. There was something in her that reminded him of Dany; she was as short and sensual, but in much raw fashion.

"I apologize for interrupting your time." She smiled, taking a few steps closer. "I'm Arianne Martell." Her extreme softness was alluring, but it also seemed like a trick. Dany sometimes did that, but to her was much more natural.

"Please, don't apologize, Princess." Robb was about to introduce himself, as he had always done, but she stopped him before any words could come out.

"We all know you. In Westeros and across the Narrow Sea, everyone speaks about the Wolf who conquered the Seven Kingdoms." She kept walking towards him, and Robb saw Greywind sat a few feet away, studying her. "You're much more handsome than stories tell. They don't do you any justice." Her dark eyes were captivating, he had to admit. "Your eyes remind me of the sea, and home."

"Thank you, Princess Arianne. You're a very graceful woman, as well. We're honored to welcome you as our guest."

She giggled. "Oh, yes, of course. As if you didn't need to deal with so many people already. You must be exhausted."

Robb couldn't help but to smile. "It's true, but it's my duty as king."

"You are a man of honor and loyalty," Arianne spoke in a very sultry voice and then reached for his face, pressing her hand gently against his cheek. It felt strange, and quite different from Dany's soft and gentle hands. "And power too. You've become quite desired, you know?"

"I'm married," he replied, but stayed still.

A roguish smile grew on Arianne's lips. "You are, which is a shame and also a necessity." Arianne stepped away and moved slowly around him. "Since you don't abide by the Faith of the Seven, I thought you might've thought about taking more than one wife. I don't believe anyone would dare to think of it as such sin, since you are the most powerful man Westeros has seen in a very long time."

Robb was taken aback by this statement. It hadn't even cross his mind to take more women, despite being aware of previous kings having multiple lovers and bastard children.

"You pray to the Seven. You know it's a sin."

"I do," Arianne replied. "But perhaps the Old Gods would welcome me and listen to my prayers. It would be an honor to be your wife. Even if I had to share with many others."

"I'm married, as you already know," Robb said harshly. "And I have an heir, if that were a problem. I apologize, but I don't take kindly to be lure into betraying my queen."

Arianne smiled at him. "You're pure-hearted, Young Wolf. I pray for this not to be your biggest flaw, for I know it won't play in your favor. This game is dirty. Your hands will never be clean. But I don't hold any resentment over this slight." She curtsied. "I wish you the best, Your Grace."

She turned to leave, but Robb called her name. "I do hope our relationship with Dorne isn't affected by this."

She laughed, a very melodic and deep laugh. "Not at all. You've only proven me we have to worry more about your wife than your lack of experience." He arched an eyebrow. "If Daenerys asked you for anything in the world, would you be capable of saying no?"

Before he could have time to ponder on the question, Arianne left.

It was frightening how much truth was behind that question.