✅️ The Last Velaryon - Robb Stark

48 - The Grand Plan

Haelesa's pov

The fire crackled in the hearth, painting dancing shadows on the rough-hewn walls of Riverrun. A familiar warmth battled against the chill creeping in from the Godswood, a chill that mirrored the one residing in my own heart. Outside, the Riverlands lay dormant, recovering from the ravages of war, but inside these walls, the war simmered, strategized, and threatened to boil over.

I sat across from Robb, my husband, the King in the North, and the man who held my heart captive. He was poring over a map of Westeros, brow furrowed in concentration, his young face already etched with the burden of leadership. The flickering candlelight caught the auburn glints in his hair, reminding me of the fiery spirit that burned within him, a spirit I both admired and feared for its recklessness.

I was Haelesa, daughter of a minor lord from House Velaryon, now Queen in the North by marriage. I was no longer the innocent girl who was wed to Jaime Lannister and had a secret romance with the young wolf. I had seen the courage that defined him and the honor that drove him and I had fallen deeply in love. Now, more than a year later, I was his confidante, his advisor, and, I hoped, his calming influence. Though, Gods know, calm was a rare commodity these days.

"Renly's terms are...demanding," Robb said, his voice tight, pulling me from my reverie. He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture that betrayed his frustration. "He wants to lead the vanguard. He wants the glory."

I sighed, leaning back into the hard wooden chair. "He is a king, Robb. In his eyes, he deserves it. And he does have the larger army."

Robb snorted. "Aye, an army full of flowery knights and fair-weather lords. They've never seen a real battle. They wouldn't last a day against the Lannisters."

"Perhaps," I conceded. "But numbers matter, Robb. We need Renly's strength to take King's Landing. We cannot do it alone." Our Northern army was formidable, hardened by the harsh climate and unwavering loyalty, but it was small compared to the forces of the South.

He slammed his fist on the table, making the map jump. "I will not bend the knee to him, Haelesa! He claims the Iron Throne, but he's just as much a usurper as Joffrey."

"No one is asking you to bend the knee, Robb," I said softly, reaching across the table to take his hand. His skin was warm and rough against mine. "But we must be pragmatic. This isn't about pride; it's about freeing the North and saving your sisters."

He squeezed my hand, his anger momentarily receding. "You're right. I know you're right. It's just... galling. To think of him, preening and boasting while our men bleed."

"Then let us find a way to make sure our men bleed less," I said, my mind already racing. "Let's focus on strategy, Robb. What are Renly's plans for the attack?"

Robb reluctantly returned to the map, tracing a finger along the coastline. "He intends to land his forces just south of the city, overwhelm the defenses, and storm the gates. A frontal assault, pure and simple."

"And foolish," I added. "King's Landing is heavily fortified. The Golden Company is there, and Cersei Lannister is too cunning to leave the city undefended."

"Exactly!" Robb exclaimed, his frustration returning. "He's throwing men at a wall! We'd be slaughtered."

"Then we need to propose an alternative," I said, rising from my chair and pacing the room. "Something that uses our strengths and exploits Renly's weaknesses. What do we know about the city's defenses?"