Game of Thrones: Frozen Fire

Wolf or Man

"What's your name?" Robb barked as soon as he was at reasonable distance.

The man only glared at him until one of Robb's man kicked him behind the knee. "Answer to the King!"

"King," the now prisoner scoffed as he managed to stand tall. He was a still strong and capable man despite his years; he had obviously been trained, and probably like a noble man by the way he stood. "You're only a child. Starks believe they are so honorable, so just. Think that's enough to be king?"

Smalljon drew his sword and was about to raise it against the man when Robb interrupted him, lifting his leather covered hand to stop him.

"Speak your name," Robb repeated eerily calmly as Grey Wind and Rhaegal approached from behind him.

The man's eyes widened slightly at the sight of the dragon, but not as one who had never seen such creature. He looked at it as someone who had found a known beast.

"Where is she? Her dragon is here, that means she's near. Where?" he demanded.

Looking at Rhaegal, Robb sighed. "I could very well let this wolf and this dragon leave nothing of you. They will obey and you won't see it coming fast enough." His cold blue eyes fell upon the rugged man. "Your name."

"So you can finish what your father started?"

Robb clenched his jaw and his eyes sparked with something akin to wrath. He no longer liked his father's name being spoken by those who were his enemies; and this man clearly held a grudge. For a moment he was tempted to let Smalljon rip open his throat and that his animal companions could have a feast. But he was his father's son.

"You know her. I do this for her, not you." It was an ultimatum and the man knew it. "Your name."

"Jorah Mormont."

Ser Jorah, Dany would say but Robb knew better. The man had been stripped of all titles once he dishonored his family. Maege Mormont wouldn't be happy once she found out about his return, and probably take justice with her own hands if he allowed it.

Before the man from Bear Island had fled, Eddard Stark had sentenced him to death. Ice was going to be used to behead him and now that he had returned, the punishment was still waiting for him.

"Where is she?"

Robb was a frightening image as he stood there, expressionless and cold. He was judge, jury, and executioner. He had the power to decide what to do and yet, he wanted to take his time.

"She's not here."

"Where?"

Robb approached him, fearing nothing, like a wolf studying his prey. "You have a debt pending with the North. Justice to be fulfilled."

"I was granted a royal pardon," Jorah replied somewhat nervously, but concealing it like every prideful, yet former, lord.

"Surely one you earned by doing wrong to someone." That seemed to fuel the anger of the man but Robb had no fear for anyone. He had already accepted that fear would be the one thing that could become his downfall because he would become a player to win the game. Like Dany said, he would trust no one and he would move the pieces to his favor cleverly. "Your royal pardon means nothing to me or the North. We are a free and independent kingdom."

"You might be Ned Stark's son but you are not him. You're still a summer boy and cold hasn't frozen your blood yet."

As soon as Jorah stopped talking, Robb swiftly snatched Smalljon's sword from his hands and pressed the edge of the blade against Jorah's neck.