Robb put his back into the door and pushed with all his might, but instead of caving open, the warped and charred wood splintered under his cloak, almost sending him sprawling into the room. He breathed heavily, the air at the top of Kingspyre Tower in Harrenhal was thin and climbing the thousands of steps necessary to reach it had been far from easy on his legs. The tower itself had become strange, melted stone folding and flowing into shapes, warping staircases and corridors so much that it was like viewing them after a dozen cups of wine. This door was the last though, the room into which he had nearly fallen was the last of them. Covered in rushes and the corpses of rats and bats, there was no other door leading up from here. Bats that had been nesting in what remained of the rafters shrieked and scattered swirling out of holes in the melted stone. He looked around the room, but saw nothing to indicate what it had been before the Black Dread's flames wrought their devastation. It could have been a rookery or a bedchamber, open to the sky to observe the movements of the stars, or an enclosed chamber to work fell sorcery. Many in the dark annals of Harrenhal had been said to use the dark arts. Rhaena Targaryen, Alys Rivers, Danelle Lothston. The Castellan, ser Kyle Condon had told him that the locals still spread tales about the mad and cruel sorcerers and tyrants that claimed Harrenhal as their own.

From the openings in the stone, Robb could look out across his kingdom and his breath caught. He knew that the land had been ravaged by war, his lords were endlessly petitioning him for help to rebuild and resow, but from here it all seemed tranquil. He saw villages surrounded by fields of green grass and golden wheat. To the north the tributaries of the trident curved through the land like sapphire veins and to the south the God's Eye was a flat surface of blue reflecting the white clouds of the sky. Carried on the winds were the bells of a sept in the far distance, a septon performing his duties, unknowing that he was heard by a king. With the dragons gone, no king would ever look down on the Riverlands from such a height again.

A noise from behind him made him turn. "What is it Grey Wind?" Robb asked. His wolf had gone over to one corner of the room and was digging around in the rushes. "Grey Wind?"

He came back to Robb, dragging something in his jaws. Robb's hand went to his sword. It was a body. He knelt beside Grey Wind and examined it. The flesh had peeled and gone, leaving bones picked clean and warped by heat, but Robb could tell they were the bones of a powerfully built man, with shoulders far broader than Robb's even in all his clothes. He had died in mail, the links rusted, many of them broken. The tatters of a hauberk caught on the loose chains, but the cloth had rotted and faded leaving no sigil that Robb could find. A leather sword belt remained, studded with silver nuggets and when he pulled out the sword he found it was in usable condition, though time and exposure had worn its edge dull. Robb wondered who he had been, or what he had been doing in this room when he met his untimely demise. Was it even a man. Mad Danelle Lothston had been infamous for her warplate black as night.

Someone called for him, the voice echoing off the stone. "Up here!" He called back. His hand went to his sword, but Grey Wind was unconcerned, still examining the corpse.

He heard a panting from behind him and turned to see- "Lady Roslin. What are you doing here?" His future wife was standing in the doorway, one hand on the wall to steady herself, another on her chest as she caught her breath. "Are you well?"

She tried to reply, but then nodded instead waiting for her breath to return. "I… am…" she gulped. "Forgive me, your grace, there are a lot of stairs in this tower. More than I could have expected."

"It is a tall tower," he replied. "What brings you up here?"

"I have something for you," she pulled out a letter from her belt. "A messenger has arrived from King's Landing, from your brother."

"Is he well?"

"He says he is, but King Joffrey is not. He's dead."

Robb snatched the letter from her hand and read it over. "Gods above." This was the last thing he needed. Joffrey was a monster, but when kings die, chaos ensues, and Robb needed stability. "When did this arrive?"

"Just now, your grace."

"And you thought to bring it to me yourself?"

She flushed. "Forgive me if I overstepped my place, your grace. Olyvar was going to bring it himself, but…" she bit her lip. "I insisted."

Robb nodded. "Who else knows?"

"You, myself, your mother, Lord Edmure and Olyvar."

"No others?"

"None. What will you do, your grace?"

"Tristan must be recalled, and all who accompanied him too. I will not have them trapped in a city of vipers after the murder of a king."

"Murder? The messenger spoke only of death."

"Tristan writes of murder. Assassinated in his own wedding bed." He wouldn't have. Would he? "So no one knows that Joffrey was murdered?"

"No one but you or I. Would I be too presumptuous to assume your brother instructed the messenger not to mention the assassination except to yourself?"

"Indeed," Robb smiled. He regarded little Roslin. "What do you think will be the consequences of this?"

"What do I think?" She swallowed. "I think his brother will become the new king."

"And?"

"Well, the last time a king died there was war."

"You think there will be another war?"

She swallowed again, sweat beaded on her temples. "I pray not."

"You do?"

"I was at the Twins when Benfrey returned my king." Her voice, so often light was cold like a chill had caught her. "I cannot imagine that happening to others."

"How was he?" Robb remembered Benfrey's quivering face, his inability to speak after the blow to his head that he had taken in place of his brother.

"He was there, and not there. Father had no time for him, but we sent him on to Winterfell at your command." Her fingers curled into fists. "Black Walder had no time for him either. Benfrey saved him, and Black Walder thought to thank him by bedding his wife."

"He did what?"

She was quivering with anger now. "Black Walder… he came to see Benfrey's body and barely gave it a glance as he started trying to seduce Jyanna. She slapped him instead, and he would have killed her had she done it in private. They left the next day which like as not saved her life. To my shame I wished she'd put a dagger in him instead."

He hadn't seen this anger in her before, this drive. Perhaps she would be able to stand at his side.

"You are under my protection now, my lady, as it Benfrey's body and widow. You may be assured that no one will harm you."

"Thank you, your grace."

"But now I need you to be strong." She looked confused. "I must needs inform my lords of this development and there will be many who wish to go to war again with the Lannisters. I need you to talk down any who think this way. There must not be another war. I will make it clear that peace is my will, but those who seek the opposite will push for me to call the banners again. You are to be my wife, they may seek to get to me through will talk them down."

"I… will try, your grace."

Robb nodded and smiled, hoping to lift her spirits. "Come here." He held out his hand and she took it stepping up to him and he directed her view out the tower.

Roslin's eyes widened as she looked and saw. "I've never seen the Riverlands so… small."

"It is a sight to behold." He placed his hand on her back. "Our sight, and no one else's."

She looked up at him. "It is true then, you mean to tear Harrenhal down?"

"This castle and its curse has blighted the Riverlands long enough. It is too large to garrison effectively and too important to leave ungarrisoned. To tear it down under the reign of the dragons would have been an insult to the Targaryen dynasty, but now they are gone, save one imprisoned princess. And we need the stone."

"What will become of the land?"

"A smaller castle will remain, still strong but nothing of this size."

"House Whent has died out, who will it go to."

"Whomever I choose," Robb said. "My own grandmother was a Whent, I have a claim on it as strong as any living man."

"All the more reason to tear it down then, and be rid of that curse." He looked down at Roslin who smiled sheepishly. "You have a good smile, my lady."

The two of them descended the tower carefully, Robb carrying the skeleton over his shoulder to have it buried while Roslin held his other arm.

Outside he commanded that the body be prepared for burial and summoned his lords and court. They entered the Hall of a Thousand Hearths, the Great Hall of Harrenhal. There weren't a thousand hearths, but they were all cold and empty, leaving a dark chill in the room. Several tables were set with placements for Robb, his court and the entire garrison and still less than half the hall was used, the rest given over to shadows and storage.

He sat on his throne, his attendant lords and councillors assuming their positions and faced the lords who had crowned him. They sat at the tables at his request and Robb was pleased to see a greater mixing of his lords than before. Lord Karstark took a seat between Black Walder Frey and Lord Piper while the Lord Blackwood, Master Glover and Alysanne, sister of slain Dacey Mormont sat as one on the other side of the table. When they were seated, Robb addressed his lords, telling them of Tristan's letter and that King Joffrey was dead. Every lord and representative had the right to speak and they exercised it fully. Most questioned the status of Tristan and his party, particularly those lords whose kin were with him. Lords Vance and Mooton were the first to question if the peace sealed with Joffrey was still settled with Tommen.

"Stannis Baratheon's daughter has not abandoned her claim, and the Lannisters will not want to go to war with us while she remains in the field." He hoped his assurance would be enough to allay some of their fears, but immediately others leapt on it. Lord Umber proposed raising the banners and demanding fresh concessions out of the Lannisters. Lord Piper instead proposed openly fighting to install Shireen Baratheon in exchange for territorial gains in the Golden Tooth and along Crackclaw Point and his position was supported by Lord Karstark and Helman Tallhart. Thankfully there were others, Lords Slate and Norrey, Locke and Blackwood who stood against war. Then there were the more duplicitous, Lord Bolton suggested quietly that perhaps nothing direct need be done… but that a few ships and supplies to Dragonstone might bolster the Baratheon cause against the Lannisters and keep the south in turmoil for many more years. Softly spoken he may be, but convincing, the WIth Rodrik Ryswell and the representative of Lady Dustin concuring, as well as Black Walder Frey and a knight of House Vypren, who claimed that Lord Bracken would agree. Lord Bracken is in King's Landing and can agree with nothing right now. Lucias Vypren was a feudalist and stood with House Bracken on a number of issues. Thankfully, Lord Bracken was away and the feudalists were weakened.

More than any other faction in his new kingdom, the feudalists had opposed his new town charters, granting the trader towns of the trident greater liberties than they had held under the Targaryens. Lord Bracken might have rallied them to present unified opposition, but Robb had heard their grumblings and bought them off. He had asked Lord Slate to dine with him and offered to take his younger son Lyle into his Household Knights. Lyle was too young to fight in the war, but now would have pride of place in the household of the new king to advocate for his family's interests. The Roote's of Lord Harroway's Town were also opposed to the new charters, and so, on the same day he had presented the town with their charter, he had given Lord Roote's son Lucas the position of Bursar, in charge of paying the salaries of Robb's court. He had also named them the protector of the town's liberties. With them bought over, the loudest safely away in King's Landing, the rest of the feudalists had been brought back into the fold by the granting of the right of appeal to the crown if convicted in a town court. They had wanted more, so he had heard from the grumblings, but lacking unity and with many bought away, they accepted the right gladly and had made no more demands of Robb.

"My lords, I understand your desire to go to war once more, to see the Lannisters punished further for what they did to us. But there will be no war, can be no war. We can return home having won our victory and freedom, and bury our fallen fathers, brothers and sons with honour. They died so that we no longer need be directed by what happens in King's Landing or the Red Keep. Would you have us return to that world? We are a new kingdom, one built on honour, justice and liberty, that we might rule ourselves. We made an agreement of peace with the south, would you have us break it and have our first act of negotiation with another independent power be to break an agreement we sealed with them in true faith? What does that make us? I say let the southern kingdom burn, and let it concern us no longer while we build something new. I will not start another war and risk everything we have won in the last one." I will not risk my throne on another battlefield I do not have to fight. He was still a warrior king and warrior kings could lose their crowns in war just as easily as they could win them.

Robb's allies served him by saying nothing, nodding along with Robb or banging the tables in support of his statement. They left the warmongers quiet and separated allowing Robb's authority to settle.

After the lords were settled on the matter of war, Robb gave orders for messages to be sent to King's Landing, by horse and raven, summoning Tristan back. There would have been advantages to keeping him there a little longer, to see the strength of the new regime in King's Landing, and keep the more recalcitrant lords away a little longer. The feudalists might be curbed for now, but the nostalgists were still conspiring, and with Robb happy to introduce new liberties for the burghers of the towns, they were pushing for him to do the same for them. But King's Landing would be dangerous and Sansa had been too long away from home.

Then he met with ser Kyle Condon outside of the melted stone walls. In the shadows of those stones, two men were burying the body Robb had found and a septon was speaking holy words over it. The Castellan gave him an update on the area. "The Freys you sent have been most helpful, together we rounded up a band of zealots, holdouts of the Handless uprising. They also allow my men to patrol the nearby villages, and our presence alone does much to restore order in the area."

Robb nodded. Perhaps Lady Mariya would be granted the castle of Darry after all. With things clearly in hand here, Robb could continue his royal progress with his mind at ease and he turned to the last matter. "Which is the first to come down?"

"The Tower of Ghosts," Kyle replied, pointing up at the most ruined of towers on the eastern side of the castle. "We've undermined the walls and are ready to burn thm at your command."

"And that will be enough?"

Kyle explained how they'd had to undermine the tower a hundred yards across if they were to have the desired result, and reassured him that the tower would fall outwards, but they called out the entire household and garrison anyway. "The Kingspyre Tower will be more difficult," he pointed out at a village in the distance. "We'll need to be careful or we'll flatten that village there." As he explained the complications involved in pulling down a castle so large with fused stone, Robb began to understand even more why no one had tried to pull it down before.

But when the court and garrison were outside, Robb gave the order and Kyle had the undermined tunnels set alight. The timbers in the tunnel burned with thatch and pitch. Black smoke poured out of the opening into the sky as though Aegon's dragons still rested beneath the castle. They watched with baited breath until they heard a rumbling in the ground which began to cave in. The great curtain wall cracked, split and then, together with the tower above it slumped and broke, cascading down to the ground in a roaring tumble, creating a slide of stone and brick that broke further on impact until, finally, where the tower of ghosts once stood, there was only a pile of rocks and rubble left.

"Let all who need stone for their walls come and claim it," Robb declared.

Roslin came up beside him. "That pile of stones is still higher than the Twins."

"And there are four more towers to come down with it," he reminded her. Robb had wondered if it would be enough, but now he knew for certain there were enough stones here to safeguard his towns and their people. As is my duty as their king.


Guest: The war is in its third year since the initial battles between the Tullys and Lannisters. Joffrey's wedding takes place 6-9 months later it does in Canon but it started at roughly the same point.