Song: Everybody Wants to Rule the World by Lorde
Yara
Yara Greyjoy was well accustomed to the smell of her own shit by now. It had been a while since the straw in her cell had been changed, and seeing as she hadn't been given a chamberpot - well, she was forced to adapt to the stench quickly.
She wasn't exactly treated like an honoured guest here at Winterfell, they interrogated her during the waking hours and she could only thank the Drowned God that they hadn't decided to resort to violence and rape to coerce her to speak. Yet.
She heard the Starks were honourable, but she knew if it had been reversed and her father had captured a Stark girl, he wouldn't be against using physical methods for information.
She refused to give them anything. She refused to say why she had chosen Baelfort exactly for an invasion. All she had said was that her father, Balon Greyjoy, was the rightful King of the Iron Islands. And was entitled to rule the North by conquest.
The men who questioned her would often laugh when she recited this time and time again.
"Some conquest, eh?" They would jest. Poking fun at the failure of the siege of Baelfort. But Yara wasn't ashamed. Baelfort may be returned to the Buas but that did not mean the North was safe. One battle doesn't win the war.
Yara had been sat in her rags, poor excuses for clothing, in her cell with her head leaned back against the wall. She didn't even glance up at the sound of her cell opening again, mentally preparing herself for another day of interrogation.
A figure had stepped into her cell, she could see from the corner of her eye, but she still hadn't looked. She never gave them the satisfaction of looking afraid.
"You look a sight, sitting with your own shit as a cellmate, dear sister."
Yara didn't think she'd ever be relieved to hear the high pitched, annoying tone of her younger, failure of a brother. But that belief was bashed today.
Yara looked up instantly, her eyes widening at the sight of Theon standing there, suited in full armour.
"Why would the Starks let you down here?" She questioned disbelievingly, frankly - she wouldn't be surprised if Theon had ran back to the Starks with his tail between his legs and begging for retribution.
"I've done it, I've taken Winterfell," he said proudly, a stupid grin on his face. Yara stood slowly, her face etched with suspicion as she eyed her brother. Her eyes drifted over to the open cell door and the Greyjoy men standing outside of it.
"You? You have taken Winterfell?" Theon was visibly offended by her surprise.
"Don't believe me? March upstairs to see the dead Stark soldiers littering the courtyard then," Yara eyed him carefully, slowly moving out of her cell in case it were a trick. She ventured her way out of the dungeons, her legs burning as she trailed upstairs from her lack of exercise of the last few weeks.
She squinted as the light hit her sensitive eyes, lifting a hand up to block the sun's glare to allow her vision to focus. When it did, she turned in a full circle to assess the surroundings.
Fuck, she thought. He really did take Winterfell.
There were a few bodies of guards littered around, and the Stark banners that hung from the walls of Winterfell were in the process of being burned. A body had already been beheaded in the centre of the square, and she noticed a Maester tending to the wails of two young boys.
She turned to her brother again, an impressed smirk falling on her lips.
"I'll be damned, brother. Maybe you're not as useless as we thought."
"We caught them by surprise," Theon said proudly, placing his hands on his hips, "they hadn't been expecting an invasion after your men were slaughtered. She really did a number on you didn't she?" Theon teased, gesturing to the marks that still littered Yara's face.
"If I ever get my hands on the Bua bitch again," she threatened, "I'll kill her with my bare hands."
Fianna
It was around midday, surely there was duties to be attended to - but Robb and Fianna weren't concerned with anything happening outside of his tent.
They had been laying in his bed, fully clothed of course - just enough restraint between them both not to lay with each other as a man would with his wife. Instead, sharing kisses and exchanging stories and enjoying the simplicities of their newfound situation.
They lay on their sides, their faces close together and Robb's hand resting on Fianna's hip.
"Tell me about the first girl you ever kissed," Fianna asked suddenly, curious to know everything about the king laying aside her.
"She was the kennel masters daughter, she was smitten with me so after dinner one evening I walked her to her chambers and kissed her, just to try it out," Robb told her softly, trailing his rough hand along her side.
"Smitten with you?" Fianna asked teasingly, "she must have been a fool."
"You would know what a fool looks like wouldn't you?" He fired back.
"Yes actually, I'm looking at one right now," she had outwitted him again, causing him to groan and roll his eyes. Fianna lifted her hand and gently began to trail her finger down Robb's face, feeling the grooves of his face.
"You're too smart for me, my lady," he admitted with a soft smile, his gaze combing over her expression. She flatted her hand against his cheek, cupping it.
"It is known," was all she said before leaning in and kissing his lips again, for what felt like the hundredth time that day. Yet she never grew tired of the feeling of his lips beneath hers.
Besides, she knew their blissful happiness would one day come to an end. So she was going to seize every moment with Robb while she could.
"Robb?" A voice called out from the entrance to the tent, causing them both to freeze in fear, separating their lips.
Lady Catelyn.
She was unable to enter the tent, with the ties being tied ever so tightly. She must have only just returned from her visit to Renly Baratheon.
Fianna's eyes widened at Robb in fear, the two sitting up quickly almost in sync and practically jumping from the bed. Fianna began to mouth words to Robb, gesturing wildly towards the tent flaps.
"She is going to murder me!" Robb could just about make out. He looked about his tent frantically, trying to figure out what to do. His eyes narrowed in on the table that held their maps and pawns and he started to point wildly at it.
"Just a moment, mother!" He called out, trying to keep his tone steady.
She looked at him with a look of disgust, her features turning up but she rushed over to it anyway - lifting the table cloth and ducking underneath it.
When Robb was sure Fianna couldn't be seen, he began to untie the knots that bound his tent closed, and thanked the Gods that Fianna had remembered to close them.
As soon as she was able to, Catelyn emerged inside of his tent - her blue eyes scanning the interior with mild suspicion before turning to her son.
They shared a hug in reunion. Despite Robb feeling anger towards her that his mother was wholeheartedly against Fianna, he still loved and missed her dearly and worried for her safety greatly.
"Mother," he mumbled as he hugged her tightly, she pulled away and looked up to him with a smile. "I've missed you."
"Yes, you look positively forlorn," she said sarcastically, looking around once again for any sign to prove her suspicions.
"You surprised me, that's all," Robb rushed out, furthering suspicion. Fianna rolled her eyes from her position under the table, subtle she thought. "I didn't think I'd see you today."
"Robb, despite what you may think," she spoke sadly, reaching out for his cold hand and cupping them with her own warmer ones, "I do wish you were free to follow your heart."
Robb's eyebrows furrowed in confusion at this, "Mother? Where is this coming from?"
"I've had much time to think on my travel to Renly's camp, Robb. You've had to grow up too fast, I don't know whether it was war that done that or the crown they put on your head," she nodded with her head to the metallic circlet crown that rested on the table. Robb never wore it unless he was in public.
Robb only said "I know," in response.
"You have inherited your father's responsibilities, I'm afraid they come at a cost." Catelyn's eyes zoned in on the dishevelled furs that lay on Robb's bed, "you are promised to another, Robb."
"I know," Robb repeated, as if he hadn't been subsequently ignoring his betrothal altogether for the past week while he shared soft words and kisses with Fianna Bua.
"A dept that must be paid," she persisted, to Robb's annoyance.
"I haven't forgotten."
"Your grace, my lady."
The conversation was interrupted as a man, Fianna could not see who, entered the tent.
"News from Winterfell."
Robb and Catelyn left the tent immediately, but Fianna remained. Partly to remove cause for suspicion from Lady Catelyn, mostly to gather her thoughts.
She felt dirty all of a sudden. Like a child who hadn't understood the magnitude of a situation and made a fool of themselves. She believed Lady Catelyn to be holding them apart because she was, well, words that a Lady shouldn't repeat. Although Fianna certainly thought them.
But the conversation she just overheard had made her realise that Catelyn had Robb's best interests at heart, to ensure he repaid a debt and held his honour.
And for that, she was disgusted with herself.
Robb
"This cannot be true.." Robb spoke in absolute disbelief. The small glimmer of hope he had in Theon diminished completely.
"We've had ravens from White Harbour, Baelfort, Barrowton and the Dreadfort," Roose explained in a grim tone, "I'm afraid it is true."
"Why?" Was the only word Robb could form at that moment. He should have known. Fianna warned him after Yara Greyjoy attacked Baelfort that Theon was a traitor and he had refused to believe it. He was a fool for not taking Baelfort's siege more serious.
"Because the Greyjoys are treacherous whores," Roose spoke in disgust.
"My brothers..?" Robb asked hopefully.
"We've heard nothing of them."
Robb and Catelyn dropped their heads in grief, until Roose spoke again to add to the trauma, "But Rodrik Cassel is dead."
"I told you never trust a Greyjoy!" Catelyn Stark broke, yelling at the top of her voice at her eldest son. She was absolutely heartbroken - Sansa and Arya were enough to break her, but Bran and Rickon and their home? She couldn't take much more. "Get Lady Bua in here at once!" She called out to a guard by the entrance, who left Robb's tent and entered the night air swiftly to go and fetch Fianna.
They sat in silence as they waited for Fianna's arrival, unable to speak from the traumatic news. If Robb had the emotional capacity for it, he would have worried about why his mother requested Fianna.
Fianna entered the tent with a stony expression, which Robb noticed immediately. It broke however, her eyes narrowing in concern upon noticing the distress of her king and his mother.
"You requested my presence, your grace," Fianna asked, fear oozing out of her. She was scared that Robb had told Catelyn of their indiscretions, or she had somehow found out, and that she was being informed of her imminent execution at Catelyn's hand.
"No, I did. My lady," Catelyn had to force a formality at the end. "How many men did you leave to guard Baelfort?"
"Four hundred, my lady. We also called more bannerman so that would push it up to around 600, I'd reckon," Fianna explained in confusion, her gaze flickering to meet Robb who looked back at her with red-rimmed eyes.
"You will send these men to Winterfell at once."
"My lady, may I ask why? We are still under threat from the Greyjoys, the risk of invasion again is great this is a sensitive time to-"
"Sensitive time?" Catelyn spat harshly, marching up to Fianna. "My home is being ransacked by the very men you were allowed to march home and fight off. The fate of my sons is unknown to me. We gave you two hundred Stark men to reclaim Baelfort, you will send your men to Winterfell."
"No, I won't." Fianna spoke back in a dead tone voice. The two were engaged in a fierce stare and neither refused to break it.
"Are you denying an order from the King, Lady Bua?"
"No, I am denying an order from the King's mother," Fianna replied in an equally fierce tone, "you are not his Regent. If he wished to demand me to send my men to Winterfell, to place my home at risk along with yours and leave Baelfort unattended, I will have no choice but to say yes."
Fianna felt horrible immediately after saying it, but she spoke no lies. As much as the news of Winterfell's siege hit her and she worried for the safety of the youngest Stark boys, she could not, and would not, just give up her home in return.
Lady Catelyn narrowed her eyes at Fianna, the two both turning to look at Robb for his opinion. But Robb hadn't been looking at either of them, instead, he was staring intensely at the scroll.
"I will go North," he spoke finally.
"No, you will not!" Fianna and Catelyn spoke at the same time, briefly glancing over to look at the other.
"There's still a war to win, your Grace," Lord Bolton interjected.
"How can I call myself King if I can't hold my own castle?!" Robb bellowed suddenly, rising from his chair - the reality of the situation hitting him finally.
"You're not a King because of a castle, you're a King because you deserve to be one, because we gave you that crown!" Fianna disagreed, pacing towards the desk to face Robb head on.
"How can I ask men to follow me if I can't-"
"How can you ask your men to return to the North when we've come this far?! If they return home, they will never march down south again!"
"You marched south again!"
"You know why I did that!" She shouted, silencing Robb completely. To Catelyn, this was confirmation to her that Fianna had indeed felt more than mere platonic feelings for her king. That she felt more than just loyalty to her liege lord.
"You are a king," Catelyn spoke to change the topic back to the most important matter, "and that means you don't have to do everything yourself. Let me go and talk to Theon."
"There will be no talk," Robb replied, "he will die for this."
"I can spare 300, no more," Fianna consented, "but it's not certain that a mere 300 will be able to retake Winterfell."
"Your grace," Roose began, "Theon holds the castle with a skeleton crew. Let me send word to my bastard at the Dreadfort, he can raise a few hundred men and join with Lady Bua's men to retake Winterfell before the new moon."
Fianna eyed Roose carefully, she didn't trust the man as far as she could throw him. But, it was a plan. And the only chance they had.
"My boy would be honoured to bring you Prince Theon's head," Roose continued.
"And my cousin would be honoured to bring you Prince Bran and Prince Rickon, safe," Fianna added haughtily, almost childishly making a dig at Roose.
"Yes, Bran and Rickon's safety is paramount. You must tell them that," Robb insisted, to which Fianna and Roose nodded. "And Theon, I want him brought to me alive. I want to look him in the eye, and ask him why. Then I'll take his head myself.
-
My dearest cousin,
I must apologise upfront for what I will ask of our men, and of you. As you may well know, Winterfell has been under siege by the Greyjoys - much like the situation Baelfort found itself in. Is it imperative that you must make contact with Roose Bolton's bastard at the Dreadfort, and lead a host alongside him of 300 men, no more, to retake Winterfell. The Starks assisted us in retaking our home, we must assist them.
Regards,
Fianna Bua
-
Fianna
She had been halfway towards sleep when a rustle in her tent had awoken her. She lifted her head, alert suddenly and felt a rush of panic upon noticing a dark figure about to clamber inside of her bed.
Fianna reached for the dagger she always kept under her pillow now, and whipped it out, ready to attack another assailant.
Robb's eyes widened as he realised what Fianna was thinking, immediately leaning in so she could make out his features in the dark as he began whispering soothingly, "No, my love, it's me."
Fianna sighed, tears prickling at her eyes as she was overcome with relief at what could have very possibly just happened again.
She tossed the dagger onto the floor and shuffled sideways in bed to allow him space to lay next to her, and he did, clambering into her bed and drawing the furs over the two of them. He then wrapped his arm around her waist and drew her body towards his, wrapping his arms around her tightly and protectively.
"You scared me," she accused, her voice trying to appear strong when it was on the verge of breaking.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he soothed, peppering kisses against her forehead.
"Did Ser Mick just let you inside my tent?" She asked confusedly.
"Yes, I know he'll have something to think about it but I just can't Fianna. I can't be alone tonight after what happened," Fianna nodded her head understandingly, nuzzling into his chest.
Fianna chose at that moment not to mention what had been plaguing her mind, which was that they truly couldn't do this any more. Save him one more night, let him take comfort in her as she had taken comfort in him so many times before.
"What's wrong?" He asked, eying the little crease between her eyebrows.
"Nothing, nothing.."
"Fianna."
"I just...," she began, wondering if she should say it, "I don't want to go to sleep, knowing this could be one of the last times we lay together."
"Why would it be?" He asked in confusion until Fianna gave him a pointed look, then he realised.
They said nothing thereafter, eventually falling into a blissful sleep in each other's arms.
"I knew there was something going on," a female voice, full of malice and distaste woke them when the morning light broke.
Fianna and Robb jolted up in bed, their hearts stopping at the sight of Lady Catelyn in the tent. Ser Mick burst in after her, "I'm sorry my lady, I couldn't stop her!"
"Mother-" Robb began, but she cut him off with a glare.
"Get out, now Robb. Before the rest of the men awaken and wonder why you're leaving Fianna's tent," her voice was colder than Robb had ever heard it. He got out of bed and glanced over to Fianna, feeling protective.
"I will not," he refused, Fianna got out of bed, her shoulders stiff as she readied herself for the fight surely about to happen.
"It's okay, Robb," Fianna urged, not breaking her gaze with Catelyn. This was between them now. Robb eventually left after a moment, leaving Catelyn and Fianna alone.
"You are a stupid little girl, I have warned you time and time again of having relations with my son," Catelyn spoke, looking Fianna up and down in disgust. But Fianna stood proud.
"He did not bed me, if that's what you're assuming. But now that you have had the cheek to enter my tent without permission, I wish he had," Fianna allowed a smirk to lift her lips in defiance.
Catelyn marched forward and smacked the girl so hard across the face, Fianna's head flew to the side. Fianna lifted her hand up to her face, brushing her fingers over her reddened cheek.
"It is time for you to go home, Lady Fianna." At this, Fianna straightened, dropping her hand.
"I will not, you will not demand anything of me. You do not have the right."
"I don't have the right but I have the sense you seem to lack. You were denied of a mother during your upbringing, so your wildness and lack of manners can be forgiven. However I will not let you lose this war for my son."
"Lose this war? I have contributed all of myself to it, I was the reason Robb won victory over the Riverlands!"
"And you will be the reason he will lose the Frey's support if you don't leave now."
"If you force me to leave," Fianna threatened, "my men will not stay here to fight for Robb. They will march home with me."
"No they will not, you will tell them that you have fallen ill and that they must stay and fight for Robb. You will be allowed a small party to escort you back to Baelfort and then you will never see my son again."
Fianna recoiled in shock, "why would I ever agree to do that?"
"Because, despite what I think of it, I know you love my son. And you know if you truly loved him, you wouldn't want his blood on your hands. Robb needs armies. Not a mistress. If he loses the Bua or Frey men he will lose this war. And you are only proving to be a distraction."
Fianna dropped her head to look at her feet, her mind reeling. Was Catelyn right? This entire time she thought she was going to help Robb win the war, but was she being more detrimental to his efforts than helpful?
"So? Will you do the right thing and spare my sons life?"
Fianna only nodded in response.