Crowns and Cruel Intentions || Game of Thrones

23 | 𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔦𝔞𝔫𝔫𝔞

the riverlands, westeros

— TECHNICALLY, MARIANNA SHOULD STILL BE AT CAMP. Technically. But in recent weeks she'd grown sick of watching the wounded return from battle, listening to their pain, watching it while she waited to see if Robb would be among them. Even once she knew he was safe, she hated walking through the camp those nights, witnessing it all and being entirely useless to any of them. She'd taken to observing the healers, asking them to show her how they worked, even briefly watching the Silent Sisters on occasion. But after this most recent battle she'd decided she'd had enough of sitting around waiting for them to come to her. It was easy to walk into a tent where three of them lay. It was much harder to walk out into the aftermath of a battle and witness it all, and a privilege to never have to. So as soon as she'd gotten word that the battle was over, that Robb had won, she'd taken her guards and her horse and ridden out. The sights and the smells and the sounds had run her down like a tsunami when her horse first broke the treeline. She forced herself to continue on foot.

She was with a young healer who bore no colours when Robb discovered her entirely by accident.

"Help me straighten out his leg." Marianna was quick to do so, though handling the boy as gently as she could. He was a Lannister soldier, but she'd not had much time nor care to pay attention to the colours of his armour with everything going on all around. The woman took a small blade and cut gently through his boot to remove it. He breathed heavily through his teeth as she did, gripping Marianna's hand so tightly her fingertips turned red, but she let him. The woman shook her head when she discovered the state of his foot and leg beneath, making his eyes widen with panic.

"No, no, no- Please! Please!"

"Shh," the woman's voice was soft, but left no room for argument. "The rot's set in."

"No, don't! No, don't!" he begged as she pulled a strap from her supplies, beginning to wrap it tightly around his leg while Marianna held back his flailing hands as best she could. "It'll get better! It doesn't even hurt!"

"The rot will spread." she insisted. "If we don't take the foot now–"

"No, you can't!" He wailed, and Marianna grunted softly as he attempted to shove her. That was when Robb found them, and a moment later he was helping hold the boy down by his shoulders. Marianna's surprised eyes found his briefly before refocusing on helping the healer tie the leg. "Please, ser, please-"

"You'll die if she doesn't." Robb told him.

"I don't want to be a cripple, please!"

The Lord Robb had been speaking with just before – Lord Bolton – spoke up. "Surely one of our men needs your attention more than this cub."

"Your men are not my men." the woman replied sharply.

"Put this in your mouth and lie down. You don't want to watch." Robb pushed him all the way down to his back.

"No! You can't!" The healer set her blade device against his leg.

"Bite on it! It's better than biting your own tongue, believe me."

His screams became muffled as she began shearing through his leg, but Robb's eyes were locked on Marianna. She held down the boy's other leg and held the leather binding tight as the healer worked, flying drops of blood spattering against her face. But there was no disgust in her expression, not the tearfulness one might expect of a princess or even a high lady. Only downturned lips and a furrow between her brows that was heavy with determination and concern. When the leg was fully severed, she jumped into action, using something from the healer's case to seal up the wound and then helping bind it as carefully as she could.

When they were finished and the boy was lifted onto a wagon, Robb was roped briefly back into conversation with Lord Bolton while Marianna walked alongside the healer. "Can I ask your name?"

"Talissa. I must admit I didn't expect to see a princess in the aftermath of something like this. Especially not helping a Lannister soldier."

"I haven't always been against them. They were my family once."

"And now that boy has lost his foot on your husband's orders."

Marianna blinked, briefly stunned by the word husband. It still seemed so foreign to her. "Not my husband yet." she admitted. "And it's not the boy's fault they shoved a spear in his hands. He didn't ask to get dragged into this war."

"So why do you still fight it?" Talissa wondered, her voice devoid of any hostility. "How many like him will be dragged in on both sides? How many have been already?"

"More than anyone can count. But Joffrey cannot remain king."

"Why? Because he's a bastard?"

"Because he's cruel." That seemed to give Talissa pause. "Under Joffrey, they'll die for his pleasure. At least their deaths mean something now."

"It's an easy thing to say until you're knee deep in the blood."

"That's why I came wading out into the blood." Marianna said softly. "I don't ever want it to just be words to me."

Talissa nodded, hopping up onto the back of her cart. "When you kill Joffrey... will you take up his crown?"

Marianna was silent for a moment. "I don't think I have a choice."

Talissa shook her head with a small smile as the cart started off. "We all have a choice princess. Remember that."

When the cart had nearly gone from her sight, Marianna turned, looking back over the field. It's an easy thing to say until you're knee deep in the blood. She was suddenly brought back to a memory from Winterfell. The wildling man she'd killed to protect Bran. The blood had frightened her – perhaps even sickened her then. But it didn't now. There was a difference between the blood of a man she'd deliberately killed and the blood of a man she'd saved.

She was pulled from her thoughts by the sound of boots to her right. She blinked, and turned to find Robb approaching her, his expression odd and unreadable. "I didn't expect to see you out here..."

She pursed her lips, her expression slightly apologetic, though unyielding. "I had to see. I couldn't just keep pacing uselessly around camp, and I thought if I told you, you might try to stop me."

He sighed as his hands came to rest on her sides. "You may have been right. There's nothing out here anyone should have to witness."

She shook her head. "You're the king and you fight these battles side by side with your men. I need to be fighting them too, even if it's not with a sword in my hand. I was raised to be a decoration on a lord's arm, but if I am going to be a queen I need to be much more than that."

He smiled, raising a hand to brush his fingers gently gown her cheek. "You already are."

She glanced at the blood left on his fingers when he pulled away and huffed a small sound of amusement. "Although I do feel like perhaps you need to stop finding me like this. With blood all over my face. I hear it's improper."

He shook his head. "As long as it's not your blood, I've seen worse things."