Disclaimer:
A Song of Fire and Ice does not belong to me, nor do any of the images shown. This fic was created by me for entertainment purposes.
NA 1: This is a translation from Spanish, made with a text editor, so spelling and grammatical errors are possible. My apologies to all.
NA 2: If anyone wants to help with corrections or translations, and serve as an editor, please send me a private message. Again, my apologies to all.
Robb 5
After the taking of Riverrun and dispersing Jaime Lannister's army, and knowing the fate of his father, his lords met to brainstorm about what to do.
Robb, who had received news from Roose Bolton, was in a good mood, considering that in the last few days they had killed his father. When the news came, Robb could only think about his next moves. He calculated everything, refusing to cry. His new heartless part, had already forced him to accept his father's death, when he received Sansa's letter. He could have no hope of being able to save her life.
His father did not die by accident, his father was killed because Littlefinger needed a war. Varys could give him time, because his plans beyond the sea were in their infancy, but Littlefinger could not. If he somehow stopped the execution, Littlefinger would still seek another way to accomplish his purpose. So, he had no hope, only calculations in his mind to avoid thinking about it. That was something he learned from his other life.
To work and forget about everything. To set a goal and not be distracted by things he considered inevitable. Still, all was not lost, and even though his life and that of the rest of his family could be lost, he could still fight for it. He could still put a hope in it, set his goal and work for it without looking at his sides. Thanks to that, he now had some results, which could be a small progress in his current goals. That small progress, was the letter from the Lord Leech, which he now held in his hands, and which was the second one he had received from him.
The Lord Leech, sent his first letter five days after their parting, he did not dare, or did not plan to disappoint him this time. He marched with pomp and fanfare against Tywin Lannister, making a great fuss so that the latter would focus his attention on him, but unlike Robb knew, Roose did not rush into combat, and marched at a normal pace, so before he faced Tywin Lannister, news reached Tywin Lannister that the northern army had split and Roose was a decoy, so Tywin Lannister turned back, knowing they were after his son, and spared no effort to go in haste.
Roose did not stand idly by and watch them depart, and with his small army of three thousand men, he harassed Lord Tywin day and night, attacking his supply lines and his rear, capturing the craftsmen traveling with him, blacksmiths and even prostitutes.
The Lord Leech plundered everything he could from the lion, making him suffer great material losses, craftsmen and blacksmiths, which he would later miss during the war, and that his army of needy people, would come in handy. In addition to plundering the defenseless supplies of the lion, Roose also made three raids on his hasty and unsuspecting ranks, causing him losses of not less than a thousand men, with hardly any losses on his side, due to his hit"and"run tactics.
The old lion, at the terrible insistence of Roose Bolton, had to halt his march and stand up to him, but Roose turned aside and gave up all attempt to storm the enemy's camp, so that Tywin could only curse, and so far could only resume his march at a slow pace, to avoid further disaster, and still suffer losses in lightning attacks, which took horses and supplies, so Roose sent word in his first letter, that they were well equipped and could go on tripping the lion for another couple of years, while he retreated like a wounded and raging beast that bled to death.
Robb replied to his first letter, telling him that if the lions fell in this war, perhaps he would be the next Lord of Casterly Rock, and warden of the west.
Now Robb read Bolton's reply, and his second letter, assuring him that Tywin Lannister would lose five thousand men before he took refuge in some fortress, which made Robb inwardly guffaw. Perhaps he had rid himself of Bolton's ambition, and it had come to breathe down the lion's neck. And Robb wasn't lying, if Bolton followed through on what he said, he would be a shoo"in for the Lannister seat.
If he tried his best, Robb would be sure to use every influence he possessed to see that he was made Lord of the West. He did not care about the lords of the West, for if he was the winning party in this war, they would all fall along with Tywin Lannister, and their lands would be treated as spoils of war for their lords and the lords of the Riverlands, who stood out in battle.
The Northerners were stubborn, and mentioning the south made them spit on the ground, so Robb did not believe they would be willing to take lands there. In contrast, Roose Bolton was almost a southern lord, and Robb suspected that by ascending to a major house, he would not mind trading his lands.
Robb watched it all, as he reread Bolton's letter to encourage himself and raise hopes for his own plans, seeing that he was getting small results that might ultimately bring his plans to fruition. His lords, and the few lords of the Riverlands they had been able to free, were hotly debating which king to serve, between Renly and Stannis.
Each of his lords had his opinion, and Robb listened to them all. The only one who had no supporters was Joffrey, because word had already spread that he was a bastard. They weren't sure about Stannis, however, because of his grumpy nature and penchant for laws and rules. Renly was noted for his diplomacy, but he had no rights and that made him a traitor to his own brother. He also had no military merits to his credit, which made most Northern lords give him a resounding thumbs down.
That started more arguments, until Great Jon's voice boomed over the others, and as Robb expected, after a short speech, the giant of somewhat thin build, named him King in the North, and the other lords, pressed by the cheers, supported the decision, but Robb did not rise to thank them or to accept his figurative crown, so there was silence.
"My lords," Robb said without rising, and looking several of them in the eye, including Great Jon. Your loyalty and pride in our land honors me, but I do not see myself capable of wearing a crown," Robb said sincerely. I fear such a thing would only lead to disaster, and our original purpose here was peace. Peace that no longer exists, for now there will only be war, until all our enemies are dead, or surrender.
"In wars we need allies, and by putting a crown on my head, we will get none.
"In wars we need who to trust, and my experience is barely enough to be a proper lord. In wars we need resources, and winter is coming, our land is lonely and many will die, if we don't end this quickly.
"Finally, in a war we need numbers, and our army, though we have the bravest men, they are few, and our enemies are numerous, and they breed like maggots infecting a festering, gaping wound.
"No, my lords, we do not need a crown on my head, we need to end this war, and end it by winning it, for our sake, and that of our families. And that we can only do, by following King Stannis. But not for a matter of rights, which is no small thing, however, in these circumstances, we care little for rights, for ours have been trampled upon time and time again, in just a few days.
"No, we will follow Stannis, for he can lead us in this war with honor, duty, strength, AND an unbreakable will, that will assure us, that he will never ever try to come to any agreement with our enemies, and that means, that by his side we can face them all to the death! "Robb declared, rising from his seat and showing his anger by pounding the armrests of his chair as he did so.
His anger was more than real, because even though he had already accepted his father's death, the new part of his personality also brought him great anger, and he would make sure that Joffrey would die in the same way as his father, and Littlefinger would not even get to contemplate the end of this war, he was going to die, and he was going to die writhing in pain from his poison….
Robb smiled in his mind, for he already knew how he was going to kill Littlefinger.
As he made another creeping plan, Great Jon was the first to shout "Stannis is vengeance!", and everyone chanted behind him approvingly. Robb was taken aback by the giant's quips, but shrugged his shoulders and shouted along with the others.
"Stannis is vengeance! "Robb shouted.
…
Three days later, Robb summoned everyone to the hall, for he had guests, though these guests made their lords frown. His guests also looked at everyone in the great hall dubiously, especially the grumpy old man, Rickard Karstark, and the Bear Woman, Lady Maege Mormont, who were the graphic description of a savage because of their "if you look at me too much you're dead" expressions. Nor were the others examples of elegance and good manners, for they looked at them with suspicion, and without any dissimulation looked them up and down.
"Lord Torden Fregar, representative of the Sea Lord of Braavos, and Lord Tycho Nestori, representative of the Iron Bank of Braavos," introduced what would become their chancellor.
Robb smiled as both guests from the front looked at the chancellor. From his knowledge of this world, Robb knew that Braavosians did not present themselves as lords, and the men of the Iron Bank were clerks, and proud of it. Torden and Tycho did not come alone, behind them were ten others in similar garb, so it was clear that they came together, but in these cases, only the representatives were named, and the others were bypassed.
"Robb Stark? "Tycho asked as he came within ten feet of his throne. Robb nodded at his question.
Tycho was a tall man, who looked even taller because of his lean frame and pointed purple hat, with a distinctive thin beard. His clothing was broad, and he wore a purple cloak. His companion, the man surnamed Fregar, wore the same type of clothing, which in his old world would be of an oriental style, but none in such showy colors as Tycho wore. Tycho did not seem convinced by his answer, and called one of his attendants who handed him a hardcover book in which were engraved some letters, which read Robb Stark.
"The same Robb Stark who wrote this book? "Tycho asked.
"Actually I didn't write the book, my maester did, I only dictated to him and made some sketches," explained Robb. But yes, the book is of my authorship, it was also me who sent it to Braavos and called them to this place," Robb added, stroking the head of Grey Wind, who was amusing himself devouring a sheep's leg next to his throne and the crunching of the bone was making Tycho's companions uncomfortable, so Robb stroked him to show his manners.
Grey Wind reluctantly detached his head from the sheep's leg, and looked at his group of guests with enmity, which caused them to tense up, causing the opposite effect Robb wanted.
"Forget it, keep eating," Robb said quietly and with a tone of helplessness.
Grey Wind gave a lick of pleasure and continued eating, not caring. Tycho was a little apprehensive, but normal for someone who was in front of a wolf almost the height of a person.
"Lord Robb, I don't mean to be rude, but at the time this letter was sent, you were in Winterfell, but the place of the appointment is at Riverrun, two months later," Tycho said suspiciously.
"Can't a man plan a vacation in advance? "Robb asked, raising an eyebrow. Besides, you'll hardly find another Robb Stark in these parts," Robb said.
Robb was aware that if the Iron Bank believed that a teenager sent the book, many doubts would arise that would delay negotiations. Therefore, he played a little trick by putting his real name but a different address, to make them think he was not a teenager, but a different person.
"We have been told that you are here because of a war and that your original destination was King's Landing, so your presence here is a coincidence that I knew nothing about two months ago," Tycho accused unceremoniously.
His mother, who knew nothing of this matter, was growing more and more nervous, standing at his left side. Robb smiled.
"Ha, coincidences always happen when the Winter Wolf is present. If not, ask the Kingslayer's Arm," said Great Jon, and all the lords nodded, some spitting on the ground and grimacing grotesquely at the memory of the sacrilege committed against the Sword Arm, the finest swordsman in Westeros.
They were aware of the problems this was causing for the honor of the north, because now there were rumors that he captured the Kingslayer and then crushed his arm, so it was no longer a matter of self"defense, but a gossip that risked his honor. This had his lords on edge, demanding that the Kingslayer come out and testify on his behalf and tell them all that his arm was duly crushed in battle.
"My lords, he charged, I only set out to save my life. It was an unfortunate accident," Robb declared. Besides, the maester says the bone broke without further damage and Ser Jaime will be able to use his arm again in a year at the latest," Robb said with annoyance, for he had explained the matter a million times.
His lords looked at him with enmity, and that was only a suspicion. These guys were too rigid. Robb grimaced and looked at Great Jon, who was about to spit. It seemed the giant wouldn't forget that he tried to cut off his head once. Robb narrowed his eyes to warn him that he would be angry if that spit came out of his mouth, and the giant swallowed his spit and looked away.
"My lords are somewhat scandalous. Actually, this is my grandfather's castle, and he was gravely ill, so I was about to pay a visit before passing through King's Landing," Robb lied cheekily.
Tycho turned his attention to his mother, who looked at him with wide eyes of surprise, for he dared to use his dying grandfather as an excuse.
"Bring the box! "Robb ordered with annoyance. With these barbarians present, it was impossible to play subtle games.
The Ursa woman, whom he had instructed on the matter, ushered her daughter in, who carried a rectangular box about three feet long and half a foot high, which she placed between Robb and the representatives of Braavos.
"Mr. Tycho, Mr. Torden, I believe you are here to see this, not to ask questions about my identity or whether or not I should be here," Robb said, as Dacey Mormont opened the box and the lords jostled each other to see what was inside, being somewhat disappointed to see what looked to them like some toys.
The apparent toys were something resembling a teapot"shaped carriage, a small pile of wood for a fire, lamp oil and tinder. But the craftsmen behind Tycho and Torden hurried forward and lifted the little teapot"shaped carriage, and being careful not to spill the water inside, inspected its wheels and the mechanisms that made them move.
"I've never seen anything like it. I understand the mechanism, and it's great, but I don't understand its usefulness," said a stout"bodied, bearded old man with faint traces of having been burned more than once, ignoring everyone and looking at Robb. Robb nodded.
"That's because the fire is missing," said Robb looking at Dacey Mormont, who shrugged and proceeded to light the fire using the lamp oil.
"I placed the model over the flame, and don't worry, all the mechanisms are steel, they won't melt or warp easily," Robb explained to the old man, who seemed reluctant to place the model over the fire once it was lit. Tycho frowned a minute later, because nothing was happening.
"It will take a little longer, be patient," said Robb.
They all waited for four more minutes, until the lid of the teapot wagon suddenly lifted, and the model ran off on its own, eliciting shouts and curses from their more superstitious overlords.
Tycho and the envoy of the Sea Lord watched the scene wide"eyed with surprise. The craftsmen they brought with them ran after the teapot cart, and Great Jon shouted and guffawed.
Dacey Mormont, who was the one standing next to the prototype steam vehicle, jumped back and drew her sword ready to cleave the contraption in two, but the model came out in the opposite direction from where she was standing.
After about ten seconds, and without the heat of the fire, the model stopped on its own, and the craftsmen seemed desperate to pick it up and study it again, but it was a steel jalopy and had been over the fire, so it was extremely hot.
"The full"scale model will make the fire an internal part of the machine, making it move constantly, and the boiler will be separate from the wheels, but in principle it is the same: a machine that will move on its own, whether on land or on the sea, without the need for horses, rowers or sails," explained Robb, drawing the attention of all, who had calmed down when they saw the miniature model stop.
"Do you think I exaggerated when I told you that I could show you the future if you were truthful in proceeding with the information detailed in that book? "Robb asked with a smile. Tycho and Torden looked at each other and then looked at the old man.
"It is possible, but it would take a decade to go from this to what he describes," said the old man.
Robb nodded and pulled a book from his side to hand it to one of his guards to hand to the old man with the burnt beard, but before he opened it, Robb raised his hand.
"I warn you that if you open that book and see its contents, if I do not come to an agreement with my guests, only your head will return to them, and if you want to keep it, you will have to serve me for the rest of your life," Robb explained.
The old man hesitated for a second, but then opened the book decisively, his eyes widening as he read.
…
"I would be honored to learn from the person who wrote and made these plans," the old man declared five minutes later, as he pushed the book aside so that the other craftsmen could not even see its cover.
Robb grimaced, apparently the old man didn't believe all this stuff was his doing either. But that didn't matter. Robb looked at Tycho.
"They don't need a decade to accomplish anything, for in that book is everything needed to build what I have described," Robb said and Tycho looked at the old man who nodded decisively. Of course, this time I will not make a wager of confidence in you, and if you want that book, you will have to offer the corresponding payment, for this one, and for the first one I sent you, which apparently has also impressed you," said Robb. Tycho looked at him calmly.
"My lord, the Iron Bank would never steal from its valued customers, our conduct is impeccable and our reputation precedes us," Tycho declared. Robb mimicked him, giving him a calm look. He would be a complete idiot to believe such absurd propaganda, knowing the reputation of these guys. Tycho said no more in an attempt to prove his point.
"The Iron Bank is offering six million gold coins for everything described in the first book, and as you have requested, we are willing to share fifty percent of the market for the second book, provide you with eighty percent of the initial production for a period of three years, plus allow the Manderlys, and their craftsmen, to participate in the construction of this project," Tycho offered.
They had accepted his terms for the second project, but they were ripping him off with the first, because the things detailed in that book were the industrial production of paper, printing, soaps, colognes, and the manufacture of quality steel using blast furnaces. That was a business for life, and would yield profits in the billions of gold coins at its peak, and tens of millions in the short term.
"Mr. Tycho, Mr. Torden, have you seen my beggarly face? Why do you mention six measly millions of gold coins as if it were a great offer? It's just small change compared to what I'm offering you! "Robb scolded with righteous indignation, but Tycho looked at him and said nothing, only turning his head to indicate him to look at his lords, who stood with their mouths open in sheer astonishment.
"Yes, they are the graphic description of a beggar looking at some good coin," Robb thought feeling a growing headache. His lords were there to make the Iron Bank understand that he had an army behind him, and they couldn't try to play tricks because he would have them on his doorstep to claim any improper treatment. But these gentlemen were causing him a lot of trouble.
"Ten million gold coins and the cancellation of the Iron Throne debt. It is not necessary for them to recognize someone as king," Robb said helplessly and regretfully.
In the end, their overlords ruined most of their plans. They could not be trusted with subtle matters such as these.
"We can discuss those terms, but I don't think there will be any problems. Now let's talk about the form of payment. According to your letter, my lord is interested in ships and supplies as part of the payment? "Tycho asked.
…
Davos
Davos Seaworth watched the gathering darkness as he approached the harbor. Still, as he docked his ship, he did not hesitate and set sail for Dragon Rock Keep, a fortress as old as the stories heard of it.
When Davos announced his arrival, it was almost midnight, but as he expected, he was shown in immediately, and a few minutes later, in a room lit by the light of a bonfire, he found his lord, Stannis Baratheon, lord of Dragon Rock and crown prince to Robert Baratheon. The late king, recently killed in a hunt, but according to the surrounding rumors, was murdered by the queen, because her Hand was about to accuse her of treason, incest and the murder of the former Hand.
For these crimes, it was said, both the king and his new Hand paid with their lives. But these were all rumors. Rumors that came from the north, but about which there was no official pronouncement from any lord.
"Ser Davos, welcome, take a seat and tell me the words of my lords," the king commanded gruffly.
Davos sat in an armchair beside him, though his lord remained standing, his great height and muscular body creating shadows as the flames danced in the fire. He was already half bald, but he was not quite forty and closer to thirty, for he was the younger brother of King Robert Baratheon. Beside him was the Red Woman, a priestess from across the sea who had become Lady Selyse's confidant, and now also one of the Lord's advisors.
Davos felt a small shiver as he looked at her. Not because she was ugly or because of any detail about her. The Red Woman was one of the most beautiful Davos had ever seen, what made him shiver at her was her whispered magic and what had happened a month ago….
Davos turned his attention away from the Red Woman and back to his lord.
""My king, the storm lords said many words, but none of them were an endorsement or an oath of allegiance," Davos summarized because his lord did not like to be given speeches. In turn, he pulled out a letter and rose to pass it to his king, who showed no surprise at his earlier words and received the letter.
"A raven dropped it on my face as I was leaving the Stormlands," Davos explained. That unwelcome animal blew it right into his face, and with the speed he was flying, it was not a pleasant experience.
King Stannis frowned and looked at the letter with a critical eye as Davos sat back down.
"The Winter Wolf," he commented, looking at the seal on the letter, which was unlike any Davos had seen so far.
The seal was the head of a direwolf, etched on snow"white wax, and its eyes were sapphire blue. Davos had said the same thing as his lord when he saw the letter, because there were all sorts of strange rumors about Eddard Stark's son, including that he could send ravens to specific people… Well, that was no longer a rumor because he checked it out himself.
"So Tywin Lannister's misfortune is true," said his king, smirking as he looked at him.
"Your Majesty, considering that I have seen him in person, it is most likely," Davos confirmed.
It was said that the Winter Wolf played the mighty Lannister like a helpless puppy using this very trick to mark his movements, lure him away with a decoy and then go to capture his son, whom some rumored to have injured his sword arm for wielding it against his father. Of course, such a thing would be an atrocity in the eyes of men and gods, so the Winter Wolf swore that the Lannister charged him, and he only defended himself. Jaime Lannister himself was a witness to it.
Their lords had also sworn that the events happened as described, and Jaime Lannister also sent a letter, but he was a prisoner in the hands of the Winter Wolf and it was necessary to wait until he was released to know his version of events.
With all that Davos had heard from the Winter Wolf, he would not believe that this was an accident, there were even rumors that the Winter Wolf had sent to prepare the crossbow with which he injured the Lannister when he left his castle, more than a month before, and that at that time he was not carrying more bolts than the ones he used against Jaime Lannister. It was evident that he was only waiting for the Lannister to ram him in order to injure him. Figuring this out was not too difficult because the Kingslayer was known for his volatile nature. Of course, if so, the Winter Wolf would be guilty, but they could not charge him with anything because the Kingslayer had rammed into him as he had originally described….
"Five thousand men," King Stannis muttered.
Davos knew what he was talking about. These were the actions of one of the Winter Wolf's lords, Roose Bolton, who was sent to serve as a decoy for Tywin Lannister while the Winter Wolf captured the Kingslayer.
The ruse did not last long, and Tywin Lannister found out three days later, when he had not yet encountered Bolton's army of distraction, so he turned back and prepared to go to the rescue of his cub, believing that Bolton would not dare attack an army ten times his own, but he was utterly mistaken, for the Lord attacked his supplies, stealing half of them, and then launched a determined attack on his rear ranks, claiming the lives of three thousand of the lion's men, who, indignant, had to halt his rescue march and face him for three days, during which time Bolton disappeared from his sight.
The lion, aware that his son was in danger, resumed his march, this time guarding his rear for three days, and seeing that he was not attacked, he again hastened on without consequence. Then, being near his destination, he learned that his son was already a hostage, and decided to march to Harrenhal, but three days after starting his march, Roose appeared out of nowhere and attacked head"on, giving the old lion the scare of his life, who had concentrated his forces to protect his rear and supplies, staying in front with his battle guard, his lords and the most tired soldiers.
He had expected an attack on his rear to decimate Roose's forces, which appeared in his face, killing left and right, and it was said that even the lion had to fight for his life to get out of there, and at this moment he lay dying at Harrenhal. Rumors had called the battle "the lion's tragedy."
Davos could only stand open"mouthed at the cunning of the Northerners, who had always been known for their brutality, but were decimating the Lannister forces with one ambush after another.
"Lord Tywin was marching with a large number of followers, it may be that most of the dead are these people. Such an army would lose no more than two thousand men in an ambush made by only three thousand men, for they would only have a few minutes to hit and run before being pursued and put to the sword by their enemy's superior numbers," Davos opined. King Stannis nodded in agreement as he broke the seal and pulled out a letter to read.
As he read, his lord gritted his teeth repeatedly, so Davos guessed it was not the news he expected. Davos did not understand.
While at Storm's End, he had heard the phrase, "Stannis is vengeance," and it had spread throughout the realm, as a declaration that both the North and the Riverlands would rally to his lord, but this attitude of his lord's said otherwise. Davos was silent and waited expectantly for his lord to finish reading the letter, which he did three times before throwing it into the bonfire with a gnashing of teeth.
"You undisciplined, arrogant brat! "He looked at Davos. He talks a lot of nonsense, but in essence, he says he will stay and play Tywin Lannister in the Riverlands, keep me informed of the enemy's plans, and swear fealty to me as it should be, in front of the Iron Throne, when he has conquered King's Landing," his lord snarled and gnashed his teeth.
"In short, he's not going to give us a single man," Davos thought contritely, but was distracted by a soft chuckle, one coming from the Red Woman. He and his lord looked at her.
"My lords, the young man is not arrogant, he only expresses his absolute trust in the chosen R'hllor, the lord of light. I am of the same opinion, our promised prince does not need armies to win the Iron Throne, only his faith in R'hllor," Melisandre declared.
Davos thought many things about this statement, which he would not dare to say in his life.
…
Tyrion
Tyrion Lannister reread the letter he had been given upon submitting his papers as Acting Hand of the King, after a corresponding sigh of annoyance towards his sister Cersei, who according to all the rumors he had heard over the past few months, was one of the most insane, psychopathic and despicable people he would ever meet in his entire life.
Among the many rumors about her included the murder of a king, who was her husband, two king's hands, the king's bastard children (including a breast baby), having three of her own brother's bastards, being mistress to her cousin Lancel Lannister, being an alcoholic and, of course, being a slut. There were so many rumors that no one would think they were mere coincidences, though there was still no official accusation against her.
Tyrion looked at the broken seal stuck to the edges of the letter, which according to Maester Pycelle, Grand Maester of the realm and one of the members of the Council, a raven threw at his face as soon as he entered his raven tower, pecking him in the eye and flying away. The old man's bandaged eye served as proof of his story and also attested to rumors of how his lord father was played by a child.
Tyrion gathered up the broken seal. It was a seal of white, engraved with a direwolf with sapphire blue eyes. Strange and fascinating at the same time, Tyrion wanted to know how that seal was made, but this was not the time to admire the art on a letter seal, but to evaluate the words.
In short, after greetings and proper protocol, the boy wanted his sister Sansa Stark back, and he was trading her for none other than his brother, Jaime Lannister, only son and heir to Casterly Rock, in the eyes of Tywin Lannister. The boy was asking for nothing more than his sister, not even an extra gold coin, though from what he had heard, he didn't need the money now either.
"Stop reading, you've been reading that letter for half an hour already. Now let's concentrate on discussing the process of delivery to secure my brother's life," Cersei said.
To someone else, she was vague in her words, for she had two brothers, but to her she was being accurate, for she did not see Tyrion, the dwarf who killed her mother, as a brother, and she reminded herself of it every time she looked at him, imprinting as much disgust and revulsion as she could into the expression on her face.
Tyrion looked her up and down. She wore a gown fit for a queen and sported the body of a goddess, with long golden hair and green eyes. There was nothing to indicate that her brains were missing.
"Don't you think there's something strange about this letter? "Tyrion asked seriously. He did not think it possible that his sister could be so stupid.
Varys, the bald, fat coin counselor, dressed in silk, powder and perfume, whom they called the spider, let out a nervous chuckle. Beside him, Petyr Baelish, whose head the Northerners claimed because they somehow learned he had betrayed their Lord, the former Hand, Eddard Stark, stroked his groomed little beard.
Baelish was only two heads taller than Tyrion, and even skinnier, there was no doubt why he was nicknamed Littlefinger. Then there was Ser Janos Slynt, an animal Tyrion planned to take care of soon. Janos was a fat, bald, sunburned, sweaty as a pig in midsummer, who offered him a greasy grin every time he looked at him.
"Yes, it seems the Northerners will now suffer the consequences of putting a child at the head of their army," Cersei said.
Tyrion understood that it was useless to try to reason with her on his own, so, for the sake of peace, he proceeded to explain the situation to her.
""Cersei, dear sister, in the last attack, our lord father has captured more than six hundred Northmen, including the heir of one of his lords, Wilys Manderly, and many of their sons," he said.
"Yet, being able to demand most of them as hostages, including his sister if he was willing to make an exchange, an incomprehensible action, for no one in his right mind would exchange my brother Jaime Lannister for anyone less than one of the great lords of the Seven Kingdoms, and I still have doubts about any of them, this boy demands only his sister, ignoring all the other prisoners, and even his other sister, who until this moment, I thought was in our hands, but now I realice that the Northerners know more about what we have and don't have than I do," Tyrion concluded, for the letter also implied that Arya Stark was not in his hands or that his brother was not interested, which was foolish to think.
Varys stirred uncomfortably, and Littlefinger went back to stroking his beard. Tyrion would not even look at Janos and Pycelle.
"Who cares what that boy plans? If he wants to trade that child for my brother, we need only ask where he wants the brat sent and what he wants her dressed in," Cersei said.
Tyrion grimaced. He had already met Sansa Stark when he arrived. She knew how to rise above her nephew's mistreatment and humiliation, but she was nothing to write home about. Tyrion saw nothing in her that made her as valuable as her brother.
Sansa Stark could be said to surpass her brother in intelligence, but that could be said of almost every noble in the realm. He was the first to admit that his brother would never be a genius or someone who excelled in cunning or intelligence. But this was not a contest of attributes, but of courage, and Jaime's value as a hostage outweighed Sansa Stark's a thousandfold. In part, Cersei was right, and they should not hesitate to take the deal.
However, Tyrion, who had studied the Winter Wolf ever since he saw how he played with his father like a cat with a dying mouse, had that nagging little voice repeating in his head that on no account should he return Sansa Stark or exchange her for Jaime. And this was not a hunch, it was his own experience, or rather, the experience of his unfortunate lord father, who underestimated the child early on and was now licking his wounds at Harrenhal after a disastrous campaign.
In his last battle, where Roose Bolton came out of nowhere and charged headlong, when his father had fortified his rear and set up at least ten ambushes in his path to make sure to make him suffer a disastrous loss to the insistent lord, his lord father was played by the Northerners' strategies, and although that battle could be called a victory, for Roose retreated with little more than half of his three thousand men, it should be borne in mind that his father lost five thousand men, and that his enemy had only three thousand men while his army numbered twenty thousand.
The men Bolton lost did not exceed four hundred, for the rest, after killing to their hearts' content, when surrounded, threw up their hands and surrendered, offering gold for their ransom while brazenly reminding his father's men that the Winter Wolf held more than five thousand Lannister prisoners, including the lion's whelp.
Faced with this clear threat, his lord father could only swallow his anger and lock them all up, despite the fact that in battle and before fleeing, Bolton himself had tried to cut off his head, leaving him with an ugly scar on his right cheek. Fortunately, they were few, and his father's battle guard was able to repel them, leaving fifteen sons of great families dead, who now claimed revenge, giving terrible headaches to his father.
No, Tyrion did not trust the Northerners one iota, and he felt that at any moment he too would receive a cut on the cheek if he did not refuse this seemingly good deal. Tyrion had not had the luck of his lord father, who had survived as Hand of the Mad King, Aerys Targaryen, the war of Robert Baratheon, the war of the Ironborn, even the creeping, devious schemes of the Winter Wolf and his henchmen when they had thrown themselves at his throat. No, Tyrion had been unlucky all his life, even the gods cursed him when he was born a dwarf.
His mother died because of him, which made his father hate him; his sister had tried to kill him on several occasions… He was sure that this cut to his throat would not fail.
"Lord Petyr, what do you make of this? "Tyrion asked, trying to buy time. Petyr nodded as if he expected the question and showed nothing in his serene expression that betrayed any emotion. This fellow was cold to the bone, even his smiles were false.
"We could assume that Ser Jaime's sword arm was irreparably damaged, and that in fact, the story of how the events happened would also be false, so once Ser Jaime returns, he will tell us everything, and the Northerners already prepare their excuses in advance, offering us this exchange as a form of compensation, lest we besmirch their honor," Petyr said. Tyrion pondered, at least that was an interesting theory.
It was rumored that the Winter Wolf was a psychopath, that he tried to cut off the head of one of his lords so that the rest would not hesitate to follow him, and he did it in such a way that they could not reproach him for his honor, because he justly relied on it for his actions. Similarly, it was rumored that the crossbows that wounded his brother's arm had already been prepared since his departure from Winterfell, and all his lords saw it. It was also known that he had only two crossbows and that they were not put to use until they were fired at his brother, and then discarded.
This made it evident that the Winter Wolf had in fact already been planning to ruin his brother's arm for a long time, and planned to do so using a crossbow, a weapon that every swordsman despised as cowardly. But the official facts were otherwise, for all confirmed that his brother, when surrounded, did not surrender but charged at Robb Stark, and Robb shot him in self"defense; some would say he was fortunate that he did not kill him. Tyrion had also read an alleged statement from his brother, saying that he rammed and that Robb Stark's defense was lawful.
For all this, and despite the overwhelming evidence against him, the only doubt hanging over Robb Stark's honor was whether his brother's testimony was false. As he always did, the Winter Wolf shielded himself in his honor and duty to commit dishonorable acts, and without any honor but a thirst for blood and vengeance.
"That may be," Tyrion admitted reluctantly. Still, my brother is not one to keep his mouth shut, if the Winter Wolf acted dishonorably, he will say so without any fear, even if they call him an "oathbreaker." I don't see why they released him," Tyrion asserted. So was his brother. Varys let out another nervous chuckle, and Tyrion looked at him menacingly.
"Do you disagree with my opinion, Lord Varys? "Tyrion asked menacingly.
"My lord, your brother is, in fact, a most discreet person. If you have managed to get him to agree to say that his arm was justifiably broken in several places, he will not say otherwise even if you cut off his head," Varys said. Tyrion could only look at him stunned, even his sister looked at him in surprise. My lords, I'm afraid that's all I can say, if you want to know more, you must speak to Ser Jaime directly," Varys said as he gestured nervously with his chubby hands. Tyrion grimaced several times, did he not know his brother, Tyrion wondered in a dazed thought.
"Then we have probable cause: Ser Jaime himself secured his release by agreeing to uphold the honor of the enemy commander, and this exchange is just an excuse," Petyr said. Tyrion grunted, but was forced to nod, at least until he could talk to Jaime and ask him what the hell he was hiding, and how the spider knew… outside of that incest thing between him and Cersei, which Tyrion already assumed was real and didn't need to ask about.
"Well, we'll accept the exchange, but it must happen here," Tyrion said.
If the Northerners were so confident in this deal and weren't planning anything, they would accept the deal; if they didn't accept, they could keep negotiating and he would have more time to think things through.
NA: Clarification: If you didn't notice, the one delivering the letters is Bran. Robb wouldn't have time for that, he just writes them.
There is no way Robb would leave Littlefinger, who has killed his father, alive.
In the next chapter, we'll see more during the lull until the next war. We'll get a point of view from Arya, Tyrion, and I think Jaime, to see what happened to him after his capture. I don't know if it will be enough, though, because if it's too long, I'll split it into two chapters, like I did with the first one. I also wrote a point of view of Sansa for this chapter.
NA: Don't forget to leave your comments, bookmark, follow, and subscribe.