There is deep disquiet here, in the midst of celebration there is dire news and dark thoughts.
Dark thoughts can lead to darker deeds.
Dark thoughts can lead to darker deeds.
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The Young Wolf - A Stark AGOT AAR
- Thread starter XavierPeanut1
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Despite their victories against the Ironborn and the Lannisters, the worst is yet to come for the North...
Grim tidings indeed, in both the general situation in Westeros as well as beyond the wall.
Off topic here, but I think I find Jon Snow's portrait hilarious, Why is he bald? He looks like Commander Shepard now.
Off topic here, but I think I find Jon Snow's portrait hilarious, Why is he bald?
He looks like Commander Shepard now.
good chapter as always.
That dream about Roslin though makes me a bit sad, I fear for the poor girl.
btw how is Daenerys doing?
That dream about Roslin though makes me a bit sad, I fear for the poor girl.
btw how is Daenerys doing?
Grim tidings indeed, in both the general situation in Westeros as well as beyond the wall.
Off topic here, but I think I find Jon Snow's portrait hilarious, Why is he bald?
I'm not sure to be honest, it's one of the few potraits in the game that does not fit it's character. Maybe he did it because he got bored at the Wall
Thanks!
As far as I am aware, Daenerys is currently trying to conquer Meereen. However, I have found that AI Dany can sometimes struggle to take it due to the coalition event chain that fires whenever an Essosi faction is attacked.
Chapter 17
Chapter 17 - The North Remembers
Robb
It was late evening by the time Robb had arrived at the Red Keep's godswood and the sky was turning from dark reds and oranges to a deep blue canvas dotted with diamond-like stars. The moon shone bright and low, it's light pouring across the groves of beech, elm, and oak. The air was still and the bird chirped in the branches as they collected their final meals before the night fully arrived. It was so tranquil that it felt like there had been no battle, indeed the only signs there had been was the rising stench of death that had begun to emanate from the city. Standing between two giant oak trees were Edmure and his men, all of them weary of over a day's worth of fighting.
Edmure turned and immediately Robb knew something was off. His uncle was much more dour than usual, and what should have been a happy moment was suddenly tempered with the solemn mood permeating the entire area. “Your Grace,” Edmure said as walked toward Robb. When he reached his nephew, Edmure looked to his left and nodded his head to a girl with long auburn hair. She was keeling against the stump of a weirwood, her hands were clasped together on it whilst she kneeled in the dusty earth underneath. “We found her there praying. She's not said a word, even to me.” Desperate to see her, Robb began to walk forward only to be stopped in his tracks by Edmure. “Before you see her I need to warn you...” his words were solemn and quiet, his face jaded and crestfallen “she has been through a lot.” Robb nodded and Edmure stood aside, allowing his king to freely walk to her.
“Sansa” Robb called out as he strode to his sister. When she turned Robb suddenly halted as he saw what two years of imprisonment had done to his sister. Her eyes were sullen and red raw from crying, she had bruises all over her face and arms, and she had a cut on her lip that looked like she had been beaten. Robb couldn't hide his shock “Sansa...” His sister quickly averted her eyes from his gaze and looked at the floor, her demeanour closer to a mouse than a lady. Slowly Robb approached her, making sure not to scare her with sudden movements.
A single tear rolled down Sansa's face, her lips quivering as she tried to speak. “I never thought I would see you again” she whispered meekly.
“I didn't know if I would either” Robb admitted, “though mother would have smacked my arse like I was a child if I hadn't marched straight down here to save you.” The mention of their mother made Sansa to finally lift her head, revealing eyes that were glazed with tears.
“Mother...” she choked on the word as if she was about to cry “is she here?”
“No, she is waiting for you at Riverrun.” Robb was barely keeping it together whilst he was in front of his sister, so potent was his anger and sorrow. If it wasn't for the fact Sansa needed him to be strong for her, he would have broken down and wept. For years Robb had wondered how his father coped discovering Lyanna dead after so long at war, and now to his regret, he knew. Every time he tried to focus on something else all he could see was the cuts and bruises all over Sansa's beautiful face. “What happened to you?”
“The King-” Sansa cut herself off as if she realised that her tormentor was king no more. “Joffrey did it. Whenever you defeated his armies in battle or when Stannis thwarted some Lannister scheme or just when he was angry he would beat me, or ordered others to do so.” She began to massage her arms, wincing when she pressed too hard. It was clear the beatings had been delivered to the whole of her body, perhaps it went beyond even beatings.
Robb had tried to suppress the thoughts of her marriage, but he just couldn't. “The Imp told me you were wed to Joffrey. Is it true?”.
Sansa solemnly nodded “Cersei promised to stop the beatings and control her son, but the wedding only made him worse. After we were wed he didn't just beat me, he would subject me to what he called the 'wifely duty'.” Her voice began to crack, and suddenly she burst into tears. Feeling profoundly guilty for bringing it up, Robb embraced his sister. “I thought it would never end!” she screamed through the constant crying, her words echoing through the godswood.
As he tried to calm her, Robb whispered into his sister's ear. “You're safe now, I promise.” Eventually, the crying turned to sobbing and by the time Robb had calmed Sansa down the sun seemed like an old memory, the godswood had now turned from the red of the setting sun to the pale white of the moon.
“Reminds me of Winterfell during the night,” Sansa said as she broke the embrace with Robb. “I would sometimes daydream about being back at home, with you, Bran, Rickon, and even Jon and Arya.” Talk of Arya seemed to have reminded her of their little sister's fate. “Did you find Arya?”
Robb shook his head “no, we thought she must have still been here.”
“She disappeared after father was arrested, I haven't seen her since.”
Hauntingly, Robb doubted they would ever see her again. Going missing in a city such as King's Landing could only end in death or worse. Being shipped off to Lys to become a bed-slave or Volantis to be lost in the vast slave-markets of the east was a common occurrence for child street urchins. It was also highly likely she was killed by the Lannisters in a botched attempt to capture her, Robb didn't doubt that she tried to fight her way out of the Red Keep, whether she survived was a different story.
The crunching of fallen leaves alerted Robb and Sansa to someone's presence when they turned they were greeted by their uncle. “They've found him, Your Grace,” said Edmure with a smile “They found the bastard-king.”
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The courtyard of the Red Keep was drenched in the moonlight as hundreds of Northern and Riverlander soldiers jeered at the captives being dragged to see King in the North. Robb watched coldly as they were pelted with all kinds of refuse, ranging from rotten food to human shit. There were four in total and each of them was dressed in Lannister finery, though the golden-weaved dresses and doublets were now soiled in filth. When they reached were Robb stood they were flung to the ground by the guards who had caught them, the mud spattering all over their faces.
“I thought you had fled” Robb calmly said as the captives tried to get to their feet “and indeed it turned out you did, you were just shit at it.”
The Greatjon, who was stood with is men across from Robb, chuckled “they were hiding in the pantry!” the revelation caused all those in the courtyard to bellow out with laughter, save for Robb and the captives. “It was Big Belly Benjen that found them whilst he looked for a rasher of bacon!” Big Belly himself laughed as he slapped his stomach in triumph. When the captives didn't respond, the Greatjon walked over to them and squatted across from Joffrey “You are a remarkably quiet lot aren't you? Has the cat got your tongue, Your Grace?” The bastard-king recoiled in disgust as the Greatjon's rancid breath poured over him. “Perhaps I shall rip it as out.”
“I am the King!” whined Joffrey as he struggled in his chains “I will rip your tongue out you dog! My grandfather will march into this city and kill you all!” His threats only made the Northerners laugh harder and caused the Greatjon to kick him in the stomach, the force of the impact forcing all of the air out of Joffrey's lungs.
Queen Cersei shuffled to her son and tried to calm him as he struggled to breath “Joff be quiet, be calm.” She begged as her son tried to mutter some obscenities through bouts of breathlessness.
“The golden bitch finally awakes!” roared the Greatjon “I heard you fuck your brothers, you shouldn't have any problem fucking a giant would ya?” His men began to catcall, whilst other simulated sexual acts with their hands. Robb had no love for Cersei, she had been one of the many people behind his father's murder, but he was also tormented by what had happened to Sansa. No one, not even someone as dishonourable as Cersei Lannister, deserved that fate.
Having grown tired of the constant game of taunts and insults, Robb slowly walked towards the four captives, causing everyone in the courtyard to suddenly fall silent. Of the four captives, Robb recognised three, there was Joffrey and Cersei who he had met at Winterfell, and then there was Lancel who accompanied the Imp during the negotiations. Ser Lancel's once smug expression was no gone, his proud Lannister armour stained with mud and blood, a wound near his shoulder revealed that most of the blood on him was his. As for the fourth person, Robb had no clue. He was dressed in armour similar to Lancel's though it was much less fine. The golden flares were replaced with the simple shine of steel, with the engraved lions on the breastplate nowhere to be seen.
Robb nodded his head at the unknown man. “Who are you?”
The man timidly looked up at Robb, his brow shining with sweat. “M-my name i-is Tyrek L-Lannister, Your Grace.”
His timidity made him an easy target for interrogation, Robb knew, from Tyrek he could learn the truth of what happened in King's Landing. “Tell me Tyrek, has King Joffrey treated my sister well?”
The young Lannister frowned with confusion “P-pardon?”
“Did they treat my sister well?”
A scared and confused Tyrek looked at an incensed Joffrey and a nervous Cersei before turning back to Robb. “No, Your Grace. They did not.”
“Liar!” screamed Joffrey, who was now attempting to stand up. The Greatjon quickly kicked him back to the ground, and like a beaten dog the bastard-king quietened down again.
Feeling like he was finally getting somewhere, Robb decided to that being softer on the Lannister boy would yield the best results. “Did they beat her?” Robb whispered to Tyrek as he squatted down next to him. “Did they beat my sister?”
Tyrek's eyes darted around as he strained to think of another
answer to the question, though nothing came out. “Yes, they did, Your Grace.”
“Did they forcibly wed her to the person who ordered the murder of her father?” With the little will to fight against Robb's interrogation now broken, Tyrek simply nodded in confirmation. “Thank you Tyrek, you have been most helpful.” The answers Robb needed were his and all those in the courtyard had heard, it was time for him to play his hand. “We have first-hand evidence from a member of the royal court of the guilt of Joffrey Waters. His many crimes include the usurpation of a throne that was not rightfully his, the torturing and abusing my sister whilst she was his prisoner and ordering the murder of King Robert Baratheon's Hand of the King, Lord Eddard Stark. I see no need for a trial here my lords, the evidence speaks for itself.” Despite the fact Robb had delivered only one witness and that it was not a proper trial, most of the lords in who were in the courtyard seemed to accept their King's decision. Robb turned to Joffrey and gave the command he had craved ever since he had marched south with his army. “Take him to the block.”
Joffrey's eyes went wide with panic as he realised what was happening. “No no no!” he screamed as soldiers began to drag him towards a make-shift executioners block made from firewood.
“Leave him be!” begged Cersei has she tried to hold onto to her son's hand. “Mercy, Your Grace, mercy!” Robb looked on coldly as Joffrey was ripped from her hands, they had both visited so much misery on so many, now it was their turn.
As his neck was forced onto the block, the former King of Westeros began to beg for his life “Let me go! If you free me I will allow you to stay as a king, just don't kill me!”
Ignoring the begging boy on the block, Robb stood next to the block and summoned his guards to bring him his blade. Everyone's eyes turned to see the blade being carried by the guards for it was no ordinary sword, it was Ice, the valyrian steel sword the Starks had held for a thousand years. Lord Roose's men found it in the Tower of the Hand, it's blade wolf-skin scabbard still wrapped around the blade. The guards lowered the hilt towards Robb allowing him to draw the greatsword from it and plant it on the ground. It was one of the heaviest weapons Robb had ever felt, it's immense scale nearly dwarfing him for size. He knew he would have to swing it hard and true because it was his duty, his father had always reminded him one important truth our way is the old way.
Planting the blade's tip into the mud, Robb began to officiate the execution. “By the powers invested in me as King in the North, I Robb of the House Stark, the First of My Name, do sentence you to die.”
Joffrey began to sob and for moment Robb paused, though he did not know why. Was it pity? Or was it the desire to spill no more blood. Either way it was too late now, his men expected it. Whilst Robb paused, Joffrey begged on last time “please don't do thi-”
Joffrey's plea was cut off as his head was removed from his shoulders. The sounds of celebration were silenced by Cersei's harrowing screams, her anger was so great that it took four men to drag her to the Black Cells afterwards. It was Lord Roose who finally picked up the bastard-king's head, staring at the blank dead eyes far longer than what was comfortable.
“What shall we do with the head of the bastard?” Lord Roose said as he continued to inspect the eyes of the dead king.
“Go to the Gate of the Gods and place it on a spike” ordered Robb almost cruelly “let the people see what happens when you become enemies with House Stark.” The Leech Lord gave Robb the only smile he had seen from Master of Whisperers, and for a moment every hair on Robb's back stood up as he realised I have joined them, the schemers and butcherers, the ambitious and the vengeful. I have sacrificed everything my father believed in, and it was...worth it?
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The one who carries out the sentance ... he has not abandoned his father's way as he thinks. It is a dark business, but a business that must be faced.
Poor Sansa. Here is hoping that in the future she can get married to a nicer husband, okay a nice husband(as with the exception of Ramsey Bolton everyone is nicer then Joffery). I also so read Joffery's lines in the same voice as the actor from the show
Btw I can't recall but does the Mod give updates as to what Arya is doing or is she just 'missing'?
Btw I can't recall but does the Mod give updates as to what Arya is doing or is she just 'missing'?
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If you ever intend to find Arya she's usually somewhere near the county of Moat Cailin. Or at least thats where I always tend to find her. Idk where her location is now if the mod updated but you csn try there.
Revenge is sweet, The North is more powerfull than Lannisters and their minions. Brother and sister together
True, but I suppose Robb doesn't know it yet. Even I find it easy to forget that he's just sixteen years old, the WOFK is his first taste of the real world and it's many grey areas.
Poor Sansa. Here is hoping that in the future she can get married to a nicer husband, okay a nice husband(as with the exception of Ramsey Bolton everyone is nicer then Joffery). I also so read Joffery's lines in the same voice as the actor from the show
Btw I can't recall but does the Mod give updates as to what Arya is doing or is she just 'missing'?
At the moment the mod is saying that Arya is missing. I have had games where she turns up in the first year of the WOFK, and others where she never appears again. Once she was even married to Littlefinger when he found her at Harrenhal.
I will try that when I next play the game, see if I can unite the Starks once more.
Revenge is sweet, The North is more powerfull than Lannisters and their minions. Brother and sister together
The Lannister are out, now it is time to see if Stannis becomes a threat...
Yep, the Twyin Lannister style of revenge. Would have been a cute irony to destroy House Lannister root and stem.
Also a quick update on the next chapter: The place I work at has started a major new project which will suck a lot of my free time away for the next month or so, meaning that I will have less time to write. Don't worry this does not mean the AAR is stopping, it just means that it will go from two or three chapters a week to perhaps only one per week for the foreseeable future.
Chapter 18
Chapter 18 - The Two Kings
Robb
It had been two days since Robb had ordered that the ravens of King's Landing be dispatched with the news of the capital's fall and Joffrey's death, a strategy he hoped would prove House Stark's vows of vengeance are not to be ignored. Whilst he himself had found that the grief of his father's death had not been filled, he knew his men's desire for revenge was sated for now. To of the ravens had sent different messages than the rest, one of them to Casterly Rock and the other to Stokeworth. To Tywin he sent a threat, one he would be sure that the elderly Lord of the Casterly Rock would heed. Robb know had all three of his children in chains and also held his two nephews as well, all of them were valuable hostages to House Lannister. The raven sent to Stokeworth was meant for the Castle's current owner, Stannis Baratheon. In the message, Robb notified him of Joffrey's death and proposed that he come to King's Landing to discuss the future of the Iron Throne. The offer would be too tempting for Stannis to refuse and Robb was right, though it was slightly more successful than he hoped.
“How many?” asked Robb as he walked the capital's walls with his advisors.
The Blackfish rubbed his salt and pepper beard in consternation “We have no complete count Your Grace, but we estimate it is over thirty-thousand strong.”
He has enough men to root us out of this damned city if he wants Robb thought. As far as the eye could see there were soldiers, horses, flags, and pavilions. The autumn sun reflected off the bright flags of the Reach and Storm Lords, the sigils of the Tyrells, Tarlys, Bucklers, Florents, Carons, Dondarrions, and Estermonts fluttering gracefully in the wind. Amongst the banners of the myriad lords were banners emblazoned with a stag inside a burning heart, the personal sigil of Stannis himself. It all reminded him of the day the raven had arrived at Winterfell notifying him that his father had been injured after an ambush led by the Kingslayer. On that day he had vowed revenge, so ready was he for blood and battle whilst not having experienced neither. Theon had pressed him as well, and at the time it didn't seem like Ironborn bloodlust but genuine support from a brother. Even after all that had happened, Robb could not believe the betrayal of his best friend, there were times he was convinced it never happened.
Robb turned to Lord Roose “Has Stannis replied to my summons yet?”
The pale lord shook his head “No Your Grace. I fear he may have taken it as an insult.”
The Greatjon laughed in response, his breath stinking of alcohol “With someone as prudish as Stannis, anything that isn't boring and dull is an insult!”
Every story Robb had heard about Stannis corroborated the Greatjon's claims, and his constantly dour mood had become well known across the Seven Kingdoms. Still, Robb's father always spoke highly of the Lord of Dragonstone, claiming that he was a dutiful man who was always just in his aims and his actions. He also had considerable intelligence when it came to warfare, during Robert's Rebellion he had held Storm's End against the Targaryen's and then took Dragonstone from them, and it was during the Greyjoy Rebellion when he crushed the Iron Fleet in a battle off the coast of Fair Isle. There was still hope in Robb that his sense for justice would prevail over his ambition. “Stannis maybe the worst person to sit next to during a feast but he knows right from wrong, justice from injustice. We have a common cause and a common enemy.”
Even without changing his facial expression, Robb knew Lord Roose disagreed. “A good general, yes. A just man, maybe. An honourable man?” The Lord's cold pale eyes seemed to peer straight into Robb's soul, almost searching for weakness within him. “It is more than likely that Stannis had his brother murdered.”
“A rider!” the Blackfish called before Robb could respond to Roose's allegations. The rider was on his own and had a small white flag fluttering on his mount's saddle. It seemed Stannis wished to treat, much to the delight of Robb.
By the time Robb and his entourage of advisors had reached the Gate of the Gods, the rider was already dismounted and rested. When he saw Robb approaching he quickly transformed his posture from ordinary rider to that of a stately gentleman. “Your Grace,” said the rider as he bowed, his accent clearly identifying him as a son of Flea Bottom. “I come on behalf of my liege, Stannis of the House Baratheon, the rightful King of Westeros and Lord of the Seven Kingdoms.”
This is his messenger? Robb thought with puzzled dismay. The man seemed pleasant enough but he didn't exactly look the part of a messenger for a southron king. He was dressed in plain grey and brown riding leathers, his boots were scuffed and worn from a life of hard riding, and on his chest lay a small sown badge of a ship with a sail emblazoned with an onion.
“And you are?” asked Robb.
The rider held his badge with pride as he introduced himself. “Davos, Your Grace, of House Seaworth.”
“House Seaworth? I've never heard of it.”
“It's a relatively new House, Your Grace, I doubt word of it has reached up North.”
Somehow Robb knew he could trust this Davos despite having no evidence of his identity. His honest smile seemed to create honest words, something that was very refreshing in King's Landing. “Stannis seems to trust you to come here on his behalf, are you his messenger?”
Davos clasped his hands together and let out a sheepish grin. “His Hand of the King.” While there was no audible gasp, Robb could tell his advisors were shocked by Davos' revelation. For a Hand of the King to be sent to treat alone was one thing, but for Stannis to give the most powerful office in the realm to a low born sellsword was quite another. It was a decision Robb respected, though he felt he was on his own on that. Even in the North, where merit can get you far more than the south of the Neck, it was rare for a commoner to ever reach the inner councils of lords.
Lord Roose's quiet and calm voice broke the silence. “Stannis sends his closest advisor into a potentially hostile city to treat? Are you sure he plans to keep you alive?”
Davos frowned at Roose's assumptions “His Grace wanted to show that he was serious about negotiating with you.”
“He knows my terms” Robb announced loudly, hoping that everyone around him could hear “I sent him a raven-”
“I know, Your Grace, I know. But as your advisor said, he is not willing to enter a potentially dangerous city and possibly allow himself to be captured.”
Honour was everything to Robb's father, and he would do anything to protect it, even if it meant his life. For Robb to have his own honour questioned filled him with rage, even if Davos spoke true. “He will have the protection of guest right when he enters, I promise it on my father's bones.”
“Forgive me, Your Grace, but guest right means nothing. It's just words, and words are wind. Bread and salt won't protect him against a thousand swords.” The Hand of the King's words were as harsh and cynical as they were true, and Robb knew that he would have rejected the same offer. Stannis had to be brought to the table somehow if that meant to give in to his demands then so be it.
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A giant pavilion had been erected between the city walls and Stannis' army, it's purpose was to play host to two kings meeting to determine the future of Westeros. The pavilion had been found in Red Keep's treasury vaults alongside many other Baratheon and Targaryen heirlooms. All along the canvas were crowned stags weaved with cloth-of-gold and black Pentoshi silk, with images of wild game being hunted by proud kings interspersed between them. It was opulent and glorious, the complete opposite of the two monarchs that were about to meet within it.
Robb had been sat in the tent for around an hour when his guards spotted approaching riders. The first few men to enter the pavilion were the King's personal guards, each of them dressed in dark grey steel with black tabards around their breastplates. They looked closer to a watchman on the Wall than knights sworn to a king. It was only after they had surveyed the room to their satisfaction that they finally ushered in their liege. The man who walked through the flaps of the pavilion was not the man Robb had expected to see, Stannis had always had a reputation for being a severe and unpleasant man but no one said his appearance was too. A tight gaunt face, hands that looked as rough as stone, and scowl that could intimidate even the bravest of the wildling beserkers. While the armour he wore was as simplistic as his guards, save for his fiery sigil sown into his tabard, his flame sculpted crown gleamed in the candlelight like molten gold. Without a doubt he was a Baratheon, but was the one that could be trusted?
“My condolences, Your Grace” Robb said cordially as he held out his hand to Stannis “for the loss of your two brothers. I hear they were both great men.”
After a suspicious look, Stannis took Robb's hand and shook it, though his grasp was much tighter than was comfortable. “Yes they were 'great' and now they are dead.” Rescinding his hand as quickly as he gave it, Stannis wandered over to a small chair, slowly sitting on it as if to make sure it didn't collapse underneath him.
Once Robb had sat down, Stannis began to speak again whilst his dark blue eyes judged the young king. “I've heard a lot about you, the Young Wolf who humbled Tywin and Jaime Lannister in the field, the boy who never lost a battle. Even in my own army, you have become a legend, many consider you to be half-man half-wolf. You must understand my disappointment when I just see an ordinary young man in front of me.”
It was a blatant attempt to intimidate his opposition Robb realised, though it was not the first time he had seen it. So many had doubted Robb since he decided to march on the south and now they were silent, defeated, or dead. He wasn't about to let that change. “You must imagine mine as well, I heard you were the avatar of the Red God himself, the Last Hero reborn.” Robb's sarcastic reply, as well as the titters of amusement from the Stark guards, seemed to quickly annoy Stannis deeply.
“I know what you want, Robb Stark” growled an angered Stannis “I will tell you my answer now, it is no. I will not let you permanently sunder my realm by taking two of the Seven Kingdoms away.”
“The North and the Riverlands no longer wants to be part of the kingdom that has brought so much pain and suffering. They no longer want to be beholden to far away kings who care little for their strife.”
Stannis shook his head “It does not matter when your ancestor bent the knee to Aegon he forfeited his crown.”
In an explosion of anger, Robb stood to his feet, causing his chair to fall to the floor. Stannis' guards grabbed the hilts of their swords, and in response, Robb's did as well. “The North bowed to the Dragons, not the Stags. We have no obligation to bend the knee any longer!”
“Your father bent the knee to Robert after my brother's rebellion. He pledged House Stark to House Baratheon on that day, and I know that had he survived he would have backed me!”
“He isn't alive though, is he?” the words that came out Robb's mouth seemed to cut through the air, causing all those in the room fall silent. For two years Robb had grieved for his father, and there were times when he tried to emulate him the best he could. But he had begun to realise that he could never be his father, and his father would have never wanted him to either. Robb was his own man, whether Westeros liked it or not. “I loved my father and will respect him to the day he dies but he not here, I am. The duty to protect the North is mine and no others. You bring up my father and his legacy all you want but the simple fact remains that he is not here.”
His eyes transfixed on Robb, Stannis stood and crossed his arms across his chest. “I have vowed to destroy all those who stand against me, don't make me destroy you too.”
“You can try, but I promise you will find that Northerners are more than a match for any Southron knight.”
Stannis chuckled and smiled for the first time, for Robb it felt almost unnatural, like a dog wearing a man's clothing. “How many men do you have? Eight, maybe nine thousand? I have the strength of the Stormlands and the Reach at my back-”
“And they will smash against the walls like waves on rock. By the time you take the city, you will have barely a fifth of your force.” As confident as his words were, inside Robb knew that he would not be able to hold forever. He also didn't doubt that Stannis knew as well, so to counteract that he decided to bring up the man even a battleaxe like Stannis feared. “Remember that Tywin Lannister is out there, waiting for the time to strike. If we weaken each other he will take advantage of the situation.”
Stannis began to grind his teeth as he processed what Robb had said, and his eyes narrowed as he realised the threat Tywin still posed. With a resigned sigh, he slumped back on his chair. “What do you suggest then?”
Having calmed down, Robb picked up his chair and sat back down, it's small frame groaning under his weight. “I am willing to give the capital over to you, hand over the realm's treasury, and give you all the prisoners barring Cersei, Lancel, and Tyrek Lannister.”
“Why do you want to keep them?”
“Leverage to stop Tywin Lannister from acting against me. Don't worry you have a Lannister as well, the Imp in particular.”
“And you want the North and the Riverlands in return.”
“You will not get a better offer, and only destruction and a Lannister victory is the outcome if we fight.” It took what felt like an age for Stannis to stop pondering and grinding his teeth, but when he did he held out his hand to Robb.
“Agreed.”
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Stannis on the Iron Throne, Robb with the Iron Crown.
A fitting "end" to the war. Now, to see if the Five Kingdoms prefer a Stag, a Lion, or a Rose.
Have the Falcons soared from their roosts yet? Equally, I cannot see the Kraken bow its head to a faraway throne that has not beaten it. As dishonourable as it may be, perhaps the North needs to cut off those tentacles. I am sure the Ironborn will deliver an excuse sooner, rather than later. House Stark needs a navy, after all.
A fitting "end" to the war. Now, to see if the Five Kingdoms prefer a Stag, a Lion, or a Rose.
Have the Falcons soared from their roosts yet? Equally, I cannot see the Kraken bow its head to a faraway throne that has not beaten it. As dishonourable as it may be, perhaps the North needs to cut off those tentacles. I am sure the Ironborn will deliver an excuse sooner, rather than later. House Stark needs a navy, after all.
Well, there is peace for the moment, but I cannot believe a peace between the south and the north will last. The idea of a united Seven Kingdoms will be a very hard one to kill.