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❛ the tiger and the lion may be more powerful, but a wolf doesn't perform in a circus. ❜
━━━━ 𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐁 𝐈𝐒 led by a man with a torch to where Jaime Lannister is being held and the king enters the cage, where he is tied to a pole, a good distance from the walls. "King in the North," Jaime taunts. "I keep expecting you to leave me in one castle or another for safekeeping, but you drag me along from camp to camp. Have you grown fond of me, Stark? Is that it? I've never seen you with a girl." He smirks, knowing that Robb is in fact married, but ever since the war began, Robb and Vhary haven't been together for long. Robb's eyes are glaring at him.
"If I left you with one of my bannermen, your father would know within a fortnight, and my bannerman would receive a raven with a message, Release my son and you'll be rich beyond your dreams. Refuse and your house will be destroyed, root and stem."
"You don't trust the loyalty of the men following you to battle?" Jaime quizzes, raising an eyebrow at the Stark. Robb looks away, but looks up again, looking through his eyelashes.
"Oh, I trust them with my life," Robb answers. "Just not with yours."
"Smart boy," Jaime compliments. Robb's jaw clenches, "What's wrong? Don't like being call boy? Insulted?"
I may be a boy in battle, Robb thinks, but you're a man and got captured by a fourteen-year-old boy who is a beginner in the ways of war. Who's the one who should be embarrassed? There's a low grumbling, one that makes Jaime's head turn to the side as he hears it right next to his ear. His breathing becomes heavy as Robb replies, "You insult yourself, Kingslayer. You've been defeated by a boy." Greywind walks around the cage, and now in full view, which makes Jaime lose his cool facade. "You're held captive by a boy. Perhaps you'll be killed by a boy." Greywind enters the cage, Jaime looking even more nervous as he sees the direwolf glare at him, as tall as Robb's hip and still growing. "Stannis Baratheon sent ravens to all the high lords of Westeros. King Joffrey Baratheon is neither a true king nor a true Baratheon." Jaime looks back at Robb. "He's your bastard son."
"If that's true, Stannis is the rightful king," Jaime says. "How convenient for him."
"My father," Robb puts his hand on Greywind's back, the direwolf's head picking up, "learned the truth. That's why you had him executed."
"I was your prisoner when Ned Stark lost his head."
"Your son," Robb replies, "killed him so the world wouldn't learn who fathered him. And you. . . you pushed my brother from a window when he saw you with the queen." Greywind moves, grumbling, and Jaime's breath quivers as the fear inside him becomes high.
"You have proof?" He shakes his head. "You want to trade gossip like a couple of fishwives?"
"I'm sending one of your cousins down to King's Landing with my peace terms."
