Blood and Winter
Chapter XXII
The offer was tempting, very tempting.
But that was the problem.
Stannis wanted to refuse, knew he should as the possibility of victory was still there, close and within reach. Yet Robb Stark's words made sense and what he spoke of was something he had also considered. Not the ruling from the shadows with a puppet on the throne, but the fact that Westeros would be severly damaged from the aftermath of this war, falling into ruin before the Others even arrived.
He held belief that with R'hllor upon his side that he could emerge victorious all the same, overcoming all trials in his path. But Stannis could not deny that Robb's offer was tempting purely because it would solve many of his problems immediately. Westeros would be able to begin the long road to recovery and better prepare itself for when the Others came.
When that might be he was not certain.
For now, the Others remained trapped in the Lands Beyond the Wall, unable to venture south. However, it had been foretold that the Long Night would come again and Stannis, as the Azor Azhai would be the champion of the Lord of Light to drive them back. It was his destiny to be the hero that saved Westeros and no one elses.
Yet, all things Robb made sense, more than Stannis would like to admit. Having a puppet with many factions holding an interest in keeping them on the throne was better than those very same factions attempting to take him down. Thus, Stannis would be able to control all of Westeros without being their main target, that would be Robb who would volunteer to take the brunt of their hatred and anger. All decisions he made for the good of Westeros to fght against the Others, would be Robb's and therefore, the backlash would be directed towards the Young Wolf and not him.
However, despite holding the power of a King, Stannis did not feel comfort in that fact. Robb had said that he would gladly give up power, said that he held no desire to be King and Stannis believed him. Eddard had never held desire to be King and it was well-known that the North and Riverlands had proclaimed Robb King after his victory over the Lannisters early on in the war, the Reach following suit little over a year later.
It was true that Robb seemed to hold no desire for the title or power that came with it and so, Stannis was considering the offer rather than outright dismissing it. But at the same time, he did not know if he could fully trust the offer, that little part of him whispering that this could be a trap.
So, as Stannis often did in these situations, he turned to the one person he trusted most. "What have you seen?" He asked of the Red Woman, Melisandre who had remained silent. "Can the offer be trusted?"
"The Lord has been silent on this matter." That was not normal and Stannis frowned heavily. "However, many times throughout my life, the Lord has not given me answers, leaving it to me to discover it for myself. He is a sherpard guiding his sheep, but also a teacher giving us a chance to grow on our own."
He would have to decide for himself it seemed.
That made Stannis' face twist even further into a visage of displeasure.
Sitting comfortably upon his chair, Robb stared upon the various letters he had received from the south. Each detailing what was going on throughout the entirety of Westeros as it moved into a new era. A hard fought accomplishment that was far from complete as now they moved onto a new enemy, one perhaps even greater than the Lannisters or Targaryens.
The fallout.
Westeros had shifted into a state of war, all of its kingdoms mobilised and in doing so, it was slowly being drained of all its worth. Now they had to work on building it back up lest the Seven Kingdoms fall into ruin and see Westeros collapse in on itself. Yet above all else, he had to begin preparing for the fight against the Others.
That would by no means be an easy task, though one made easier having convinced some of the greatest minds in Westeros to the truth. Some were still hesitant, but his use of magic had made them fall in line. Robb had known it was a risk, but it had been one that he knew he had to take, as all risks he took throughout his last few years, it was a calculated one. Above all else, despite what magic could mean, Robb knew that even the most pragmatic of them would focus purely upon what it could mean.
A threat to them.
A threat that they did not know how to fight against.
Perhaps if it was anyone other than him, who had not done what he had, they might have tried to resist still. Yet considering all he had accomplished, the feats he had achieved, they would not step out of line so easily. Especially when they didn't know the truth of what he could do, that mystery would keep them in line for the time being.
Hopefully, long enough for the Others to showcase themselves.
Or for him to find something more effective to keep them in line.
That was how this game was played as he was beginning to learn.
Hearing the entrance to his tent parting, Robb looked up to see Jon and Smalljon entering. "Smalljon, it is good to see you in good health." Robb said, rising to his feet and clasping hands with one of his most trusted vassals. "I had not thought you would be with us for the rest of this campaign considering your injuries."
"Bah!" Smalljon scoffed heavily. "Nothing would keep ma from leading the charge against the mad fool, yer grace."
Having led the charge against Stannis' followers stationed at the Last Hearth, House Umber's ancestral home, Smalljon had sustained many injuries in the fight. He had no desire to wait and had simply stormed his family home without proper siege weapons or anything, hundreds of his men dying in the process. Yet his actions were unconventional and Smalljon's savagery terrifying to behold that even fanatical followers like those that served Stannis were unable to stop him.
Last Hearth had been reclaimed within a matter of hours whereas it had taken the Northern Mountains and Karhold to be retaken only recently, the sieges lasting nearly two weeks. Though costly, Smalljon's tactics could be effective, though Robb knew better than to use Smalljon as anything more than brunt instrument.
He was of little use elsewhere.
"There might not be need for such a thing if all goes well." Robb said, though did not dwell on that further. "But if it is required, I shall make sure the vanguard is yours."
Smalljon smiled visciously at the thought.
Robb then turned to Jon.
"Have you spoken with the Wildlings?" He wondered.
Jon nodded his head. "Many of the chieftans are...hesitant to meet with you without Mance south of the Wall." Both knew that in reality, the Wilding chiefs had refused to come to him, though Robb was fine with that, he would solve that problem after Stannis was dealt with. "However, Val has agreed to come speak with you in their place when she arrives in a few days."
"Val?" Robb murmured. "The one they call the Wildling Princess?"
"Yes."
Robb hummed. "Very well."
She had heard of Robb Stark.
The King of Westeros.
The Young Wolf.
The Wolf King.
The Stark King.
The King of Winter.
He held many titles and names.
Yet Val had never had a face to place to the name. Robb was a busy man one who seemed to barely have enough time for his own brother, Jon let alone a Wildling like her. However, she had caught glances of him during his arrival at Westeros and then their march to the Wall. But this was the first time she got to meet him and view him in full and she was not sure what to think.
He was handsome, much like Jon.
Strong also.
He was a good head taller than Jon with a much burlier frame though even then, the two brothers seemed smaller than many of the Wildlings and Northerners she had seen. Even then, the difference was not as noticeable with Robb as it was with Jon who seemed to fit in more with the Southerners.
However, there were two features about Robb that made him stand out.
Those being his fire-kissed hair and his bright blue eyes.
The bright red hair that framed his face was considered a blessing in their kind, a symbol of good luck something Val supposed would have helped him in his conquests in the south. He had gone to war at the age of fifteen and yet had masterfully defeated all his foes in the course of the war that had lasted four more. She would not doubt the rumours of his tactical brilliance but Val was certain that the luck gifted by those kissed by fire had only aided in his ventures.
It was his bright blue eyes that stood out the most.
Peeking out from his red mane of hair in stark contrast they were impossible to not notice. Yet they made it difficult for Val to retain eye contact with him as his gaze bore into her own. She had seen eyes like those before, they belonged to the undead that wandered the lands beyond the Wall. Seeing such eyes upon a living man was unnerving especially when such eyes possessed intelligence.
"They call you the Wildlings Princess?" Robb questioned having finally finished his observations of her and turning away, Val feeling a weight fall from her shoulders when those blue eyes turned from her. "Why is that?"
"You Southerners do." Val said bluntly and Robb paused for a moment as he looked over the reports on his desk, for a ghost of a moment Val thought she had seen him smile. "You tell me?" There was a scrapping of swords as Perwyn and Olyvar Frey who had remained inside the tent for this meeting started the motion of removing their swords.
"Watch your words carefully, Wildling." Dacey Mormont warned from behind Val, hand resting upon the head of her axe as a warning. "You are speaking to the King. Any more of this insolence and your head shall be removed from your shoulders, Princess or no."
Here, Robb laughed.
The sound broke through the tension of the tent as everyone turned to the King whose short burst of amusement caught them all off-guard. "She is no princess, Dacey." Robb told them, a rueful smile on his face as he sat down in his seat. "And there's no need to give such warnings to a Wildling. They choose their own Kings and Chieftains after all. Warnings such as those will simply fall on deaf ears."
Val spared a glance at the large woman behind her and shot her a slight smirk.
"However, I suppose that in turn does raise questions of its own." Val turned back to look upon Robb who reclined in his seat comfortably, Grey Wind rising from its position on the floor and circling around the table to approach her. It had grown even larger and Val would be hard-pressed to remember seeing a Direwolf as large as the one before her, most only ever reached the height of a man's waist, a few rare exceptions she had seen to grow to their chests.
Yet this Direwolf was as big as her.
The largest she had ever seen.
She would forever deny it, but the sight of such a beast made her tense in fear as it approached her.
Its frame was already large and its fur was matted grey and white, with patches missing revealing deep scars from its many battles fought. This was not an average Direwolf that fought amongst its fellow kind and against the few Wildlings hunting parties that it would encounter. No, this was a Direwolf raised in war, one who had slaughtered men by the hundreds and grew stronger as it feasted on its prey. In the War of Five Kings, food for the beast was plentiful and it had been allowed to grow into a truly fearsome beast that was powerful and strong, just like its owner.
"What questions?" Val asked quietly, noticing Perwyn and Olyvar sheathing their swords fully as Dacey moved to the side leaving her standing alone in the centre of the tent.
"You see, I'm aware that Jon made an agreement with the King Beyond the Wall, Mance Ryder."
Val was quick to speak here. "An agreement you agreed to, Jon gave his word on that."
"Did I?" Grey Wind circled Val who remained rooted to the spot, its fur brushing against her slightly and making her heart pound heavily. "Mayhaps I did. But then again, this war has been long with many things happening. It would not be surprising if something like that skipped my mind. Especially when all I seem to now gain from such an arrangement is a rabble of rebellious savages."
"We helped you take back the North!" She argued.
"No." Robb shot down. "You simply helped retain the tentative balance that had befallen the North. It was I who retook the North after I dealt with the Lannisters and the Targaryens in the South. It is I who am dealing with Stannis Baratheon. You Wildlings have done the bare minimum and what? You expect me to hand you lands in the North, my home?"
"You gave your word!" Val had heard many a tale of the Starks from many in her time at the North. The honour they held and that their word when given could be trusted. So why was it now she was finding out that the Starks could not be trusted for theirs after all?
"You gave your word!"
He had.
When Jon had proposed the plan of offering the Wildlings land in the North in return for their aid in battling their enemies, Robb had indeed given his word that this would happen. It was a good idea at the time, the North had lost much of its populace in the War of Five Kings and while they would be able to recover in time, it would take some years to do so. Robb had known that if he was to make sure that the North would be able to rebuild itself they would need an influx of population and the Wildlings represented that opportunity.
However, things had changed since then.
Robb had changed since then.
He still intended to allow the Wildlings to reside in the North and would very much like to make that the case. Yet he would not sacrifice the stability of the North in order to simply increase its population. The Wildlings represented instability and before he would even consider allowing them to venture south beyond the Wall in force he would first need their loyalty.
If that could not be gained, then he would have to ensure that they would not be additional forces for the Others.
"Nay, I did not." The lie fell easily from his lips. "I simply told Jon that he was to do whatever he felt was necessary in order to win the war in the North."
Val's glare deepened, her fear for Grey Wind so plain to see when his Direwolf had shown its full height, giving way to anger. "Your brother gave his word! Would you make a fool of him by going against him?"
Robb tilted his head slightly, bemused by her sharp tongue and words. 'Despite being a Wildling, she possesses some skill in politics.' However, Robb had spent far too much time around the likes of Garlan and Margaery to be caught off-guard by such words. "Whether Jon gave his word or not, that means little to me. I rule the North, I rule the Seven Kingdoms, not he. Perhaps I might make a fool of my brother by rendering his word null and void, but I would be the greater fool to invite rebellious savages into my lands and risk instability. Nay, I will not allow such a thing to happen when I have every opportunity to prevent it."
"You have not yet defeated Stannis."
Robb did not so much as blink at the blatant threat in her words. "Stannis will no longer be an issue requiring war to defeat. My small need for the Wildlings in this war has run its course. You pose no use to me anymore."
"So, you would throw us aside, just like that?"
"I would like not to." Robb's words caught her by surprise and it was clear to see. "After all, we both know what really resides in the lands Beyond the Wall and why you Wildlings burn the bodies of your dead."
Here, Val's eyes widened.
"I would like to offer the Wildlings an opportunity to survive and fight alongside us. Alone you stand no chance. But beside us and under my leadership, there is a possibility of victory." Robb told her. "All that I would need from you, Val, the Wildling Princess, is for you to convince those Chieftains already south of the Wall to bend the knee."
"Wildlings do not bend the knee." Val retorted.
"They will learn and you will teach them." Robb was not deterred.
Val's gaze flickered away from him at that moment, her shoulders tensing as Grey Wind growled, a deep reverberating noise that even made his own knights stand on edge. "What makes you think they will listen to me?" Val asked.
"That is because the reason you are called the Wildling Princess," Robb answered. "You are no Princess, but you do hold influence over the Wildlings and that is why you gained such a title. Convince the Wildlings to bend the knee to me and I shall allow them and their tribes to come south. Tell those who come to me first that they will be the ones to gain the richest lands I have to offer you following the distribution of rewards to my other noblemen."
He had no intention of truly empowering the Wildlings greatly.
They were a savage people and it would take time to truly integrate them into the ways of the North, but they would have to learn. That would be the duty he would give Jon and Mance Ryder, if the Wildling Chieftains that ruled these lands could not abide by his laws, it would be up to them to punish and replace those chieftains with those that could.
In the end, they would all conform and slowly lose their Wildling habits.
Though it would certainly take time.
However, in the end, they would never be able to pose much of a threat to him.
He already knew which lands would be distributed and to where, it had taken time and had been the one thing to occupy his time the most during his time in the North. Carefully planning which lands went to which nobleman, which titles and positions of influence to best reward them for their deeds yet also retain balance within the realm. The Wildlings was a piece he would use to ensure that power would be divided and that the Starks firmly remained in power.
Yet in turn, he knew that Mance would have kept the chieftains most loyal to him in the lands Beyond the Wall by his side. By giving those already south the opportunity to come to him first he would be able to rob Mance of gaining too much power.
Politics.
He hated it.
However, Robb knew that this was a new theatre of war he would have to become adept in or else he would fall.
With the threats to come, Robb would not allow himself to fall.
He had far too much left to accomplish.
The Wildlings were simply a stepping stone upon that path.
If they could not fall in line.
Then he would simply ensure they could not be used to empower the Others even further.
"And you would keep to your oath?" Stannis wondered as he and Robb stood across from one another.
They were once again exposed in the open snowy fields laid out before the Wall and between the vast army that was under the command of the Wolf King. Each stood alone with their horses' reigns in one hand as they rested the other upon the tips of their handles. Though they came under the pretext of peace, neither man had fully let their guard down, each prepared to move in an instant should they feel their lives were being threatened.
"I would." Robb agreed. "You have my word."
The offer was tempting, Stannis could not deny that.
Nor could he deny the sense in which Robb spoke either.
Yet it was precisely for that reason he disliked it.
Robb as King had the support of most of Westeros beside the handful of Lords who had sworn their oaths to him. In order to face the Others and prepare for the Long Night that was to come, Stannis knew he needed the power of the nobles and their armies. Without them, Westeros would be doomed and Stannis as the Azor Azhai would not allow that to happen.
It was his destiny to save Westeros and defeat the Others.
He needed to wield the power of the nobles in order to do that.
However, Robb possessed their loyalty, not him.
So long as Robb remained in the picture, Stannis would be unable to earn their oaths of loyalty and wield that power to emerge victorious in the Long Night. Yet at the same time, Stannis knew earning said loyalty even without Robb present would be an incredibly difficult task to achieve. Stannis held faith that he could succeed, but the Starks, the Tyrells and the Targaryens would each stand in his path and fight him every step of the way.
That was not something Stannis could afford either.
The War of Five Kings had already cost Westeros dearly and it would take many years to fully recover and begin the steps to prosperity. Should the war continue even more which it would should he and Robb come to blow and Stannis emerge victorious as was prophesied, then Westeros would take even longer to recover.
However, should Stannis accept this offer, then Robb would remain King in title only while as his Hand, Stannis would hold all the real power. Any decision he made for the betterment of the realm and any hard sacrifice he must take to prepare for the Long Night, all of it would be placed at the feet of Robb. The Wolf King would bear the blame and the fault, he would be the target of assassinations and the noble's ire all the while, Stannis would be able to move freely in the shadows as the true King of Westeros.
During his time in Robert's Small Council, Stannis had seen the disgruntlement and even hatred of the decisions they made had created. The discontent and anger the nobles felt when perceived snubs were given as well as lost favour and stolen rewards they believed theirs. All of it had been directed toward Robert who had been wholly absent from said decisions.
To prepare for the Long Night, Stannis knew with the realm in the state it was, it would require many difficult decisions to be made. The commonfolk and the nobles alike would be united in their discontent and anger, all of it directed toward one singular figure.
The King.
If Stannis bore that title.
Then it would be he who was blamed and he who would be at risk.
Yet, should it be Robb?
Then Stannis would be free of it all.
However, despite seeing the sense, Stannis still distrusted it.
"Your word?" Stannis murmured, looking upon the son of Eddard Stark closely.
In some ways, the two bore a resemblance yet in others they were entirely different. Not simply in the bright red hair and piercing blue eyes that the man possessed, but in the way he held himself. Eddard stood tall and proud, yet never overbearingly so. Robb Stark, on the other hand, he too stood tall and proud, but the firmness of his gaze made his presence almost overbearing as he stared upon whoever had his attention. Stannis was a man of pride and he did not back down, yet the blue gaze that bore into him was unflinching and unmoving.
Robb Stark held himself like a King.
A conqueror.
A warrior.
He was not like the Quiet Wolf who could disappear easily.
There was no hiding for the Wolf King.
When he made his presence known it was impossible to ignore him.
"And I am to believe something as simple as that?" Stannis wondered. 'If it had been your father, but you?'
"The choice is yours." Robb did not flinch in the face of his questioning. "Believe me or not, it matters little to me. We both know what resides beyond the Wall and what they seek. You know of my prowess on the battlefield, the things I have accomplished. Do you truly wish to deprive yourself of a valuable commander? Do you truly wish to continue this war and plunge Westeros further into chaos that might risk you never being able to recover in time?"
Stannis did not know when the Long Night would begin again.
But one thing he did know was that Robb Stark had survived thrice when his death was prophesied.
Stannis believed firmly in Melisandre and R'hllor, yet he could not deny that he was wary when prophecies pertaining to Robb Stark left him doubting. Perhaps this time, the prophecies would hold true and Robb Stark would die, yet what if they were wrong? What if Robb Stark survived a fourth time?
War would begin anew and the destabilisation of Westeros would continue.
"As we speak, both Daenerys and Margaery are securing their positions in the south. The Tyrells have my heir to rally support behind whereas Daenerys has her lineage and Dragons. Meanwhile, the North in which you reside currently is my home, ruled by the Starks and steadfastly loyal." Robb continued. "Even should you emerge victorious here and defeat me, my death will accomplish nothing. We both know you will suffer heavy losses, enough so that you will not be able to even venture south of the Neck without being killed by the Northmen under my father's orders. Yet should you succeed, you will then have to contend with Daenerys and the Tyrells."
Stannis knew this already and his frown deepened.
"You may believe in your victory here." Robb told him. "Yet can you say that you would be able to continue beyond that point? Why risk everything now when I am offering you the opportunity to gain what you seek now? If defeating the Others is truly what you desire, same as me, then we should be allies. Not enemies."
"You would keep to your oath?" Stannis repeated and Robb nodded his head firmly.
"You have my word."
"Your grace."
Hearing the parting of his tent, Robb kept his gaze upon the reports on his deck, continuing his reading of the events happening throughout the realm. The war was ending, sooner than expected and yet his workload seemed to see no end in sight as various things required his attention. It seemed there would be no time to rest for him as Robb found with every challenge he overcame, a new one came upon him soon after.
"I wish to speak with you."
"About Lord Stannis Baratheon?" Robb had already expected this with news spreading throughout the camp about the peace talks between him and Stannis. Everyone knew and no doubt soon the entirety of Westeros would know as well and with it, Robb knew he would have many more conversations just like this one.
Stannis had made many enemies, especially in the Stormlands.
Ser Brienne was another in a long line of people vying for the Stag's head.
"...Yes." Why she was shocked by how he knew, Robb would not pretend to understand.
"You wish to know why I am engaging in peace talks with the man?" Robb questioned, his gaze finally lifting.
Ser Brienne seemed to gather herself following this, standing straighter under his watch. "Yes." She was more confident in her response, firmer and almost demanding. "I cannot understand why you would ally yourself with a Kinslayer. He killed King Renly and..."
"And the war has dragged on long enough." Robb replied simply knowing full well that anything said after that last bit was nothing more than repeated words from others who detested the negotiations. Ser Brienne only cared about the fact that Stannis had killed Renly Baratheon, a man even to this day she called King.
Nothing else mattered to her except that one single fact.
"I simply wish to bring this war to an end. Killing Stannis is not needed in order to accomplish that goal." No, Robb Stark had no intention of killing Stannis when he would be far more suited to keeping the balance between his two wives. The third faction he had his eyes on had always been Stannis Baratheon, a man who while believing himself King and wielding the power of the Hand, would work to counter his two wives and the factions that supported them.
All the while allowing him to focus on preparing Westeros for the Long Night.
Each faction would be simultaneously working to keep him alive and kill him, Robb knew that. His life was hanging by a thread the moment he had worn the crown, yet it would be kept intact by the very people seeking to kill him. That was purely because only by removing him in certain ways might they profit and deprive others of any power. As King, Robb knew his death had to be meticulously planned and performed to perfection otherwise no faction would gain anything from it.
The very shield keeping him alive was the daggers aiming for his back.
"I..." Ser Brienne began, seemingly losing her nerve for a moment before taking a deep breath. "I cannot accept this."
There was a pause, Grey Wind raising its head lightly, a low rumble beginning in its chest. "You cannot accept this?" Robb repeated, bemused by that response.
"Yes." Ser Brienne replied firmly. "I cannot accept this decision. Stannis Baratheon is a Kinslayer, as you proclaimed and now you treat with him? The only fate that should await Stannis is death! I beseech you, your grace, do not allow Stannis to live. Please, give me the opportunity to take his head."
"And in doing so, his fanatical followers would resist is to the very end." Robb pointed out. "He would become a martyr and this war would continue."
"Then I shall kill them all as well." Ser Brienne's response made Robb laugh.
It was short and mocking.
"You would kill them all?" Robb wondered, his lips twisting upward. "All thirty thousand of them?"
There was no response to this.
"Ser Brienne." Robb rose to his feet as did Grey Wind. "I will ask you once and once only. Will you let go of your grudge for Stannis Baratheon and continue to serve me as a member of my Kingsguard? Or will you persist on this foolish quest for revenge?"
"I will not abandon my vow." Ser Brienne stated. "I vowed to kill Stannis Baratheon and that is what I shall do."
Robb huffed, sitting down in his chair, yet Grey Wind did not lower itself. "Guards." The tent parted and in stepped the Hound followed closely by Ser Perwyn and Olyvar Frey, followed close behind by Dacey Mormont. "Ser Brienne of Tarth. I will ask you once more. Will you abandon your quest for revenge or persist?"
"I will not forsake my vow."
"I see." Robb rested his cheek upon his fist. "Then you leave me no choice."
He gave no order, simply a wave of his hand and quickly Ser Sandor rested a hand upon Ser Brienne's shoulder yet she reacted quickly. Brushing him, she lowered herself and began a motion to unsheathe her blade yet paused before fully drawing it free. For as she had moved, Dacey, Olyvar and Perwyn had done the same and far quicker. They had already partially drawn their blades upon entering the tent, each having stood guard and listened into the conversation within.
So when Ser Brienne reacted, they did so too.
Realising this, Ser Brienne paused, looking upon the four knights around her, only Ser Sandor yet to draw his blade as he stood before her. "Sheathe your blade, Ser Brienne." Perwyn warned lowly and Ser Brienne's gaze flickered to see him shifting to her right, she knew full well that while bigger and stronger than him, the man was a skilled warrior one who could match her for a time in a duel. With Olyvar, Sandor and Dacey, Ser Brienne knew this would not be a fight she could emerge victorious from, especially if Robb Stark joined the fray.
Yet the King had not moved.
He was still sitting and watching the proceedings calmly as Grey Wind prowled before his desk.
"Remove yer hand from yer blade before I break 'em." Dacey Mormont's hammers were held loosely in her hands, yet from experience, Ser Brienne knew how dangerous the She-Bear was in combat. Her fierce loyalty to the King would only intensify her skill and make her a dangerous warrior who stood as an equal to her.
Frowning, Ser Brienne continued to survey her surroundings and quickly realised that there was no escape for her in this situation. Yet she could not simply allow Stannis Baratheon to live, not after what he had taken from her. If she was taken away, Ser Brienne knew she would be imprisoned and with it would lose any opportunity in order to fulfil the oath she swore when holding the body of the man she loved in her arms.
"Ser Brienne." Robb spoke up. "Remove your hand from your blade and resist no further. If you do not, your punishment will not be light."
Despite those words, Ser Brienne remained torn.
Looking around the tent, Robb was hard-pressed to remember when his council of close advisors had changed so rapidly. It was hardly something he had taken note of until recently but as he looked around he realised just how vastly different it had become. He knew every individual, had fought by their side and known why they came here yet it was difficult for him to remember when the old faces had been swapped out for the new.
In the beginning, when Robb had first set out for war to avenge his father his council had been composed of purely nobles from the North.
His greatest advisors had been the likes of Greatjon Umber, Maege Mormont, Gregor Forrester, Rickard Karstark and Galbart Glover. Robb supposed he could also consider Roose Bolton amongst those of his council, though he primarily kept him there as a means to assess his loyalty but there had been instances where Roose had provided some valuable insight. It was perhaps a hasty move of his to execute the man, one thing that had become clear to Robb as the war progressed was that the actions of Ramsay Bolton had not been done under the orders of Roose.
It was too unlike the man.
Roose was a careful man, sly and cunning.
To outright rebel when the war was still running its course with no party having an overwhelming advantage was foolish. Something that Roose was not, no Roose was no doubt continuing to play all sides and looking back on it, Robb would have liked to use Roose's mind to his favour. Perhaps that man's political acumen and cunning mind might have enabled him to better control the situation in the North, or come in handy when dealing with the Targaryens.
It was too late to focus on the what-ifs though.
Robb had made his decision to execute Roose and now he must deal with the loss of a valuable mind. He had been young then, still learning and growing, mistakes were a part of that and while he could look back and realise what he should have done differently, Robb would not obsess over it. Instead, he would continue to look forward and continue to move on the path laid out before him.
Especially with his new council of advisors that had continued to grow in size.
First with the addition of Brynden Blackfish, a man who still remained on his council to this day, same with Maege Mormont and Galbert Glover. Then following his conquest of the Riverlands, Robb had seen an influx of capable commanders join his ranks and with it, the capabilities of his army had risen.
With the likes of Jason Mallister, Tytos Blackwood and Jonos Bracken joining his ranks, Robb had been able to expand the avenues in which to fight his war. All three of them had proved themselves time and time again, along with an additional member, Marq Piper who despite being young had proven himself an invaluable commander who had long since made a name for himself.
All of whom have continued to serve in his ranks and remain by his side to this day.
Yet it was as the war progressed that young nobles had proven themselves in the midst of combat and risen to provide valuable insight and earned positions of command. To not include them upon his council would have been the height of foolishness and Robb had always been willing to listen to as many voices as possible. He was not foolish enough to believe he was infallible or unbeatable, Robb was still young and learning as much as he could and so he included the voices of those like himself.
Those being the likes of Rodrick Forrester, Smalljon Umber, Dacey Mormont, Patrek Mallister and Brynden Blackwood.
Then came with it the inclusion of the Tyrells and the Reach, bringing the likes of Garlan Tyrell, Randyll Tarly and his son Dickon.
Robb's council had grown immensely.
Continuing to grow with every passing day thanks to the arrival of his new wife, Daenerys Targaryen and the Vale.
"The choice is simple." Marq Piper stated, looking upon Harold Hardynq, a rising voice along with Gendry Baratheon, each of whom held a position of influence. "We will be giving Stannis Baratheon the position as Hand, but he will no doubt demand the Stormlands as well. Our focus should not be on this any longer. Our focus should instead be upon where we allow the Wildlings to reside."
Harold was not deterred though. "He may be a bastard, but Gendry is still the son of Robert Baratheon, legitimised by King Robb. It is his birthright to claim ownership of the Stormlands, not even Stannis can deny that. As Hand, he will have all the influence he needs, giving him the Stormlands as well will only make him more powerful."
"The Stormlands have been ravaged by Stannis' actions." Rodrick pointed out. "Many of the houses there are still recovering from when they refused to bend the knew following his defeat at the Battle of the Blackwater. Stannis was not kind to them, even by giving him the rights to the Stormlands, it will take many years before they will recover. Nor will that give him any real power to threaten the realm when we have the rest of Westeros ready to bring their might down upon him."
"And the Dragons." Barristan interjected.
Many nodded and Harold frowned deeply. "Then it is precisely why we should not give him the Stormlands. Surely he would be more focused on building his own position of power there than actually making decisions for the betterment of the realm."
Before any more arguments could erupt, Gendry placed his hand upon Harold's shoulder. "It's okay. Even if I am not to become ruler of the Stormlands, it was never a position I wanted in the first place." It was clear to anyone how uncomfortable Gendry was in his newfound position of influence, though he had gained some measure of familiarity with it thanks to his time spent with Eddard and other nobles of the Vales, it was still entirely too strange for him.
"Then let us instead turn our attention elsewhere." Lord Tarly spoke up. "The Wildlings are a wild lot, but there is no denying the changes Stannis has brought to the Wall. The defences they have constructed have made each fort as difficult to overcome as the strongest keeps in Westeros. We are lucky that Stannis was open to negotiating with us. Otherwise, the damage he would have been able to do to our forces would be immense. Short of relying on Dragons a pyrrhic victory would have been the only outcome."
"We will need to tear down those defences once this war comes to an end and we depart south." Lord Mallister agreed. "Then we can allow the Wildlings to inhabit the Wall. Have them work with the Night's Watch to defend the Wall."
"And keep out what?" Smalljon snorted. "The whole point of the Wall was to keep out the Wildling bastards."
"It doesn't matter." Tytos dismissed.
"First we have to gain their oaths of fealty." Here, the council members looked toward their most recent member, Jon Stark following the words of Brynden Blackfish.
"It's slow." Jon admitted with a sigh. "They're stubborn, but Val has managed to convince a few. Most though won't do anything until Mance comes south. They're hoping with him here that things might be different."
A few chuckles and smiles were shared at the foolish hope.
All of them knew that the moment Mance came south of the Wall should he refuse to bend the knee he would be made an example of. There was only one option for the Wildlings and that was it, unlike with Stannis the room for negotiation had been closed.
Hearing the tent parting, many looked to see Olyvar enter, bowing in apology before moving toward Robb. No one said anything, continuing to converse as Robb looked on and listened to how things developed. At this point there was little for him to need to say or input, his council was self-sufficient in this way and as the war entered a new theatre, Robb found himself sorely lacking. It was in times like these that Robb allowed those more experienced to take the lead as he listened and learned as to how this new aspect of war was played.
Yet, turning his attention away from it for the time being, Robb instead took the letter from Olyvar and opened it.
Once he did, Robb had to read through it twice and then a third time just to be sure.
If the contents were true then Robb had far too many questions that needed answering.
Nor could he spare much longer in the North.
The war was coming to an end.
At long last.
After four years of constant fighting ravaging Westeros's lands, the war was finally at its end.
Stannis and his men had bent the knee of King Robb and were beginning to tear down the Wall's defences. The armies brought North by King Robb were packing up their camps and preparing to return south to their homes. Everything had finally come to an end and at long last, peace would return to Westeros with Robb Stark as the new ruler.
A new dynasty was befalling Westeros.
A dynasty of Wolves.
Looking down from atop his horse, Robb gazed upon the vast army stretched out before his eyes before he turned to look upon the Wall. There was a fog rolling in down from the top of the Wall, slowly descending upon them all and within a few short hours it would be all but impossible to gaze upon this sight that was now in front of him.
Finally, he had achieved his goal.
Yet the taste upon his lips was not as sweet as he thought it would have been.
Nor did he feel a sense of accomplishment that brought a smile to his lips.
Though he had defeated his enemies and successfully brought Stannis over to his side as they prepared for the Others and the Long Night, Robb knew that things were far from over. The Long Night was a looming threat but not the only one and with the contents of the letter he had received, he knew it was only a matter of time before a new danger befell Westeros.
'But whether the letter can be believed is another thing.' Robb thought to himself with a frown, tugging at his reins and turning his horse to begin moving across the hilltops. Behind him, an entourage of young noblemen and heirs followed, descending the other side of the hill where a detachment of nearly five hundred cavalrymen awaited them. 'How did my father come by such information?'
If the information contained in the letter was true then the details of various immediate threats to his newly established reign could already potentially spell its undoing. There lay a tricky road ahead, one that would require much careful manoeuvring for him to be able to navigate a course to victory. Yet how his father knew what lay ahead and the dangers that lurked, Robb did not understand nor did his father explain which only made Robb wary.
However, that did not mean he would not trust it.
Certainly, he had been angry at his father for his absence during the war, but the control Baelish had held over the Vale was more than a good enough reason for it. The Vale Lords were heavily in debt, one made deeper by this war, for a rich man like Baelish to use that to gain their loyalty was a very easy task to accomplish. It was a miracle that some of the Vale Lords had been willing to work against Baelish despite this, which was perhaps the only reason Eddard had been able to survive long enough to come to his aid.
Ultimately, Robb despite his misgivings on that front, still trusted his father.
Not to mention he was also familiar with gaining information from the most unlikely of sources. 'Perhaps he too has been gifted with visions from the Old Gods.' Robb thought to himself though that too raised questions as to why they were so detailed, enough so that Eddard could explain them as he had. In his experience, the visions were vague and entirely up to interpretation which was precisely why Robb had made mistakes. They were a double-edged sword, highly useful but only if interpreted correctly.
Either way, Robb knew that at this moment in time, he would deal with the threats as they came.
"Robb." Jon called, coming up beside him. "Are you sure now is the time to be departing for Skagos?"
"They refused to answer my call-to-arms." Robb replied.
Jon nodded his head. "I know. But is it necessary for you to go personally?"
Here, Jon looked toward the Wall and getting his mean, Robb sighed. "Stannis has already bent the knee and I trust that he will keep to his word." Even if he didn't, Robb had already left Randyll Tarly, Jason Mallister and Brynden Blackfish behind to deal with him should he try anything. His army may be preparing to depart south, but they were also keeping on guard ready for any sign of deception or betrayal from Stannis. "Besides, those rebellious houses have already been dealt with, Skagos Island is the only place that remains."
"And how do you intend to deal with them?" Jon wondered, not pushing the previous matter any further.
"It depends."
"On?"
"On whether they have the answers I seek." Robb's answer was vague and Jon had no idea what it might be, but Robb was wary of revealing too much. Though he had revealed his abilities to the likes of Randyll Tarly and others, that had been so Robb could not only cement them on the same path of preparing for the Others as him but also keep them in line. They would be men who would hold considerable influence in the future politics of Westeros and he needed to highlight the difference between them.
Magic was one such means to do so.
It was a mysterious power.
One that many in Westeros believed to be a myth but those who believed knew to fear its power. They were rational men who did not believe in such things, but now that they had proof they would fear its power, his power.
However, there was one place rumoured to be rich in magic.
Skagos Island.
A place of cannibals and men who were more akin to savage beasts.
Robb knew little as to the extent of his abilities as a Warg and he wanted to understand them further. They would be of incredible use to him in the future and if the letter was true, then Skagos Island was filled with Wargs, many of whom could impart their knowledge to him. He needed to understand more about what he was capable of, the limits of his magic and how he could use it to his advantage. But Robb also needed to know what the dangers were, it was why he had avoided using it as much as possible during the war.
Especially when he had felt it harder to separate himself from the mind and instincts of Grey Wind.
As a Warg he had great powers, but it was also clear there were dangers.
He needed to understand it all fully before he would choose to use it for his own means and if his thoughts were true, then Jon himself may hold such power. Yet Robb did not wish to reveal such abilities until such a time he had answers to give for the questions that would come.
"What answers are you looking for?"
Robb paused for a moment, before turning to look at Jon. "On where Rickon is."
So, another chapter is done and I hope you all enjoyed it. Just want to mention that I made a mistake earlier on in the story in which Skagos came to the aid of the Starks. They did not and this is entirely due to my lack of knowledge about Skagos Island. While they technically are part of the North, they rebelled a hundred years before the start of the story and remained mostly independent never answering the Starks' call to arms in any conflict.
Now onto the reviews:
PraetorXyn: Yes, Dany is barren in this and you're right, it does make a huge difference.
kageknuser2710: Yes originally my only real experience with the world of ASOIAF and so my Jon was influenced by show Jon. However, I intend to change Jon to be more in line with book counterpart as the story progresses.
mel: Well, here is a new update for you to enjoy. Yes Jamie and Tywin are currently still held captive and their fates are to come. As for Cersei and Joffrey it is the same also. When it comes to the fates of Catelyn and Theon, well neither is currently been revealed yet and that is purposeful. I like to think that the reason people are like that is because they are excited and impatiently waiting for the answers to be revealed. Could be wrong, but that's how I'm choosing to look at it. I've stopped caring if people hate on my story, I'm not gonna rush or change the direction just because some people don't like what I've done or misunderstand what I've written. At the end of the day this is written by me because I enjoy it and I chose to publish it for other people to enjoy. That's the only reason and if people want to be rude then that's on them.
Anyway, if you guys have any questions or suggestions, please let me know and I'll answer as best as I can without spoilers. If you don't mind spoilers or want them then I will either message you directly or you can do the same to me.