The Long Winter | Jaime Lannister X Stark OC | GOT/ASOIAF

Three Corpses

Ren awoke the next day with Lizzie in his arms and a pounding headache, made worse by the pounding at the door to his chambers. 

Not just pounding... shouting, panic. 

He sat up right away, ignoring the way his head spun - which was odd, he really didn't think he'd drunk that much the previous night - hurriedly pulling on his clothes and resisting the urge to fall back into bed. This better be worth it... 

"What in hells name is that?" Behind him, Lizzie stirred irritably, eyes opening blearily. "What - Ren!" She quickly snatched the sheets up to cover her bare chest as he flung open the door.

A pale-faced, wild-eyed guardsman stood before him.

"What?" 

"Sorry, ser," The man said, barely even glancing at Lizzie, which only proved how grave a matter this was. "I didn't know who else to come to. Gods, I don't know how else to say this... It's Lord Robb, ser - he's dead,"

Those words started what was perhaps the worst day of Ren's life.

His body acted on instinct, though his mind had yet to catch up at first. Ignoring Lizzie's exclamation of shock, he remembered marching down hallways in intent silence towards Robb's rooms, ignoring everyone he came across. Somewhere in the castle he heard wolves howling. 

"They've been at it since before dawn, ser," One of the men said hesitantly. "Perhaps they knew,"

Likely they had. His dreams that night had been full of howls and snarls. Maybe it had been a sign, one he'd ignored.

One look at the bloody mess that had once been his cousin on the ruined bed was enough to want to lose his stomach, more so than any sight he'd seen on the battlefield. Ren stared for a few seconds, saying nothing as one of the men spoke about what had happened. Through the ringing in his ears, he vaguely noticed himself direct some sharp orders at the guards, to shut the door, to keep this quiet for now.

He then turned to the hysterical, sobbing woman - his cousin's own wife - who was covered in his blood and had confessed to cutting his throat in his sleep, and murder rose inside him.

"Why?" Was all he said, striding forward and slapping her sharply round the face when she just shook her head, still crying. "Why?"

"I - he - he betrayed me," Marianne Frey struggled to get her words out, looking both horrified and scared to death. "I saw him yesterday, with the maid, in my own bed,"

Ren took a breath. He couldn't panic, couldn't grieve, couldn't even think about the fact that Robb, his cousin, his friend, their leader, Lord Eddard's son, was lying on that bed with his throat slit in his sleep by this shivering girl. 

He turned to the guards.

"One of you, find my mother," He said. "Bring her here, and don't tell a soul what has happened. If anyone asks, Lord Robb is spending the morning recovering after a night of revelry," A guard nodded, grim-faced, and left. Ren looked at one of the others. "You. Get Loreon Storm,"

Loreon arrived first. It was clear the guard had not told him a word of what to expect, as the moment he stepped into the room he stopped dead in his tracks, well and truly caught off guard by the scene before him. A hand raised to his mouth in horror, muttered curses on his lips.

"She did it," Ren practically snarled, waving a hand at the Frey girl, still sobbing in the corner. "She thought she saw him laying with a maid. Turns out it was only a redheaded knight,"

Loreon clearly saw the mask he wore, the wave of emotions he was barely holding back, trying not to think about. His friend had likely done the same when he watched his uncles die, his father too, and Ren was grateful when he refrained from any emotional outburst or display, simply took a breath to collect himself.