❛ 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."
"You think my father's going to negotiate with you?" Jaime questions. "You don't know him very well."
"No, but he's starting to know me," Robb remarks.
"Three victories don't make you a conqueror," Jaime retorts.
"It's better than three defeats." He nudges Greywind and the direwolf rushes towards Jaime, stopping shortly before his teeth could get to the Lannister's throat. Jaime could smell the meat the wolf had for dinner, the smell of iron and deer stuck to its bared teeth. Greywind growls as he snaps his teeth toward him, Jaime moving his head so his mouth and nose weren't in the line of the wolf's bite, shutting his eyes tightly. He notices an absence, turning his head slowly, opening his once closed eyes, and seeing that the wolf is no longer there.
He lets out a sigh of relief.
***
"YOU'RE SER Alton Lannister?" Robb asks the man in front of him, the man bowing his head as he answers.
"I am, Your Grace," he responds, looking down at his feet before returning his gaze on the Stark.
"I offer your cousins peace if they meet my terms," Robb says. "First, your family must release my sisters. Second, my father's bones must be returned to us so he may rest beside his brother and sister in the crypts beneath Winterfell. And the remains of all those who died in his service must also be returned. Their families can honor them with proper funerals."
"An honorable request, Your Grace," Alton bows his head again.
"Third. . ." Robb pauses. "Joffrey and the Queen Regent must renounce all claim to dominion of the North. From this time, till the end of time, we are a free and independent kingdom." Alton looks at him wide-eyed, and everyone sitting around the table echo, "The King in the North."
"Neither Joffrey nor any of his men shall set foot in our lands again. If he disregards this command, he shall suffer the same fate as my father, only I don't need a servant to do my beheading for me."
"These are. . ." Alton stutters. "Your Grace, these are. . ."
"These are my terms," Robb finishes Alton's sentence. "If the Queen Regent and her son meet them, I'll give them peace. If not, I will litter the south with Lannister dead. Fourth term: my wife and her family shall be left alone from this day till the end of time. If the Queen Regent and her son continue to prey on them, my wife will burn the entire Lannister family to the ground, and with no doubt would her sister join."
"Your wife. . ." Alton pauses, thinking about his next words. "What House is she from? And King Joffrey is a Baratheon, Your Grace."
"Targaryen, the last to be alive," Robb replies. "Oh, and is he? You'll ride at daybreak, Ser Alton. That will be all for tonight." After everyone leaves the tent, Theon walks up to Robb.
"A word, Your Grace?"
"You don't have to call me Your Grace when no one's around," Robb remarks. They watch the outside as they talk, Theon smirking at the Stark as he answers.
"It's not so bad once you get used to it."
"I'm glad someone's gotten used to it," Robb looks away from him, seeing Vhaehrys walk towards their tent, her shoulders down as she opens it, walking in without a single glance at him. Their marriage has been becoming strained since the war began, Vhary not attending the meetings as Robb's bannermen stared at her when she was in there, and Robb was always either talking to a man who did not like the Targaryen's presence, or his mother, who always asked to be left alone with her son. Every night Vhary was the first to sleep and the last to wake up, going to sleep before Robb made his way to the tent and waking up after he leaves for a battle or a war meeting. They haven't talked since Robb was crowned the King in the North, which almost a month has passed. One thing Robb noticed, though, was how Vhary always slept far away from his side of the bed, but in the middle of the night, when he was still pondering about what was going to happen next, she always - unconsciously - moved closer to him and cuddled close to his chest.
"The Lannisters are going to reject those terms, you know?"
"Of course they are."
"We can fight them in the fields as long as you like, but we won't beat them until you take King's Landing. And we can't take King's Landing without ships. My father has ships and men who know how to sail them."
"Men who fought my father," Robb corrects him.
"Men who fought King Robert to free themselves from the yoke of the South, just like you're doing now. I'm his only living son. He'll listen to me. I know he will. I'm not a Stark. I know that. But your father raised me to be an honorable man. We can avenge him together."