The Way Of Winter | Robb Stark

ROBB - XIX

AT LAST, THEY HAD ARRIVED. It was the morning of the wedding and Robb's nerves were far higher than they had been in a while. Having left his wife in Talisa's capable hands, he went to the war tent to go over his plans one more time. This had to go over without a hitch. Nothing could be left to chance. His fists clenched, pressing against the mapped surface. There, over The Twins, the pieces were all laid out — wolves, flayed men, towers, and lions. So long as everyone played their part, they would succeed.

The flaps opened and he recognised his mother's careful footsteps, then her reserved tone. "Are you sure about this?"

"No," he confessed.

"It's dangerous."

Fetching himself a drink, he offered one to her. The bitter liquid calmed his nerves a little. Ale always made him think of his father. It reminded him of the small sips he had been offered as a boy when his mother's back was turned, the clinking of tankards as his father and Jon congratulated him on his thirteenth nameday. Jon... He had not thought of his brother in quite a while. What would he have to say about the whole affair? He longed to speak to him again. Forcing the nostalgic thoughts away, he tried to focus. "If we take Tywin's castle from him, the lords of Westeros will realise he's not invincible. Take his home, take his gold, take his power."

She studied the map, then his face. "Why are you telling me?"

It was time. He knew it was. After all he had lost, he needed his mother back. "You begged me not to send Theon to negotiate with his father, and I ignored your advice. Now, Winterfell is burnt to the ground, the North is overrun with Ironborn, and Bran and Rickon are gone. So, Casterly Rock. I'm asking your advice."

It was not hard for her to see through to the white flag he offered. Visibly relaxing a little, she leant against the table and examined the House pieces again. "We have enough men?"

He took up one of the towers. "If Walder Frey cooperates."

Her lips pulled into a thin, considering smile. "If Walder Frey cooperates..." When she repeated him, he understood how optimistic it sounded, but he had to believe. If there was anything stronger than that awful man's capacity to hold a grudge, it was his lust for power. Robb could give him that. She, too, came to the same conclusion. "If reinforcements come from King's Landing before we take the castle, we will be caught between Tywin's army and the sea."

She was right. Sighing, he set the tower back down in its place. "We lost the war and die the way father died, or worse."

His words were a request, a plea for her opinion. The more she thought on it, the more her glare hardened. Finally, she seethed, "Show them how it feels to lose what they love."

——————

Their reception was cold, as had been expected. Almost as cold as the great hall itself. Not only was it poorly heated by a weak hearth and sparse candles, but Robb could feel resentful eyes on him from every angle. It was not much of a 'great' hall at all, barely fitting his family and bannermen. Under instructions from the lord, Grey Wind had been placed in a pen outside the castle. The thought of his trusted companion locked up in such a way angered him, but he had to agree to it.

They began with the symbolic breaking of bread. A platter was passed around. He obliged, trying not to wince as the stale crust stuck to his teeth. At the side with Talisa, whom she had convinced to come along more for moral support than anything else, Aryadne took a piece and held it to her mouth before concealing it under her cloak. Her morning sickness had been worse than ever. She had barely kept any food down.

A gallery stood at the head of the great hall, occupied by all of Frey's children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. He was ninety-one and was on his eighth wife, a timid girl who stood behind him, not daring to look up from the floor. At a single look, Robb was certain that the man had more descendants than he did years. Among them, he recognised his former squire, Olyvar. Ever loyal, he had extended his personal regrets to Robb upon his House's departure from the army. Had he been given the choice, he would have remained; Robb knew that without a doubt. Their eyes met briefly and Olyvar's mouth twitched into a quick smile. He inclined his head slightly in response.