✅️ The Last Velaryon - Robb Stark

54 - Deciding Fates

The war room in King's Landing felt more intense than usual. Perhaps it was the weight of the decisions pressing down on us, the future of Westeros laid out on the painted table like a morbid game. Robb sat at its head, his young face etched with the seriousness the crown had forced upon him. To his right, I sat, Haelesa Stark, formerly of House Velaryon. My marriage to Robb had been forged in the fires of war, a symbol of the alliance between the North and the Sea, but it had blossomed into something real, something precious.

Around the table sat our bannermen, grim-faced and weary after years of fighting. Lords Umber and Mormont, their faces as rugged as the land they defended. Ser Edmure Tully, Robb's Uncle, his eyes sharp and calculating. And then there were my own Velaryon kin, loyal to my house and to the alliance we had forged with the Starks.

Beside me, Tyrion Lannister, his keen mind and sharp wit a constant asset, even if his presence still raised eyebrows amongst some of the more…traditional Northerners. His wife, Chezney, sat beside him, my dearest friend and confidante. Her easy smile and warm heart were a welcome contrast to the heavy atmosphere.

We were discussing the terms of surrender, the fate of Cersei Lannister, currently cooling her heels in the Red Keep’s dungeons. A grim satisfaction settled within me at that thought. She had brought so much suffering to the realm.

"We could demand her execution," Lord Umber boomed, his voice rattling the very rafters. "She deserves it, and more."

"An eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind, Umber," Tyrion countered, his voice smooth and reasonable. "Executing Cersei will only breed more resentment, more war. We need to think long-term, about stability."

"Stability?" Lord Mormont scoffed. "The Lannisters know nothing of stability. They claw and scheme and take what they want."

"And so they will pay for it," Robb said, his voice firm. "But we will not become them. We will offer terms. Fair terms. The abolishment of all Lannister titles and lands, save for Casterly Rock. A lifetime banishment from the seven kingdoms for any remaining Lannister. Tyrion and Chezney excluded of course."

A murmur rippled through the room. It was a harsh sentence, but some still felt it wasn't enough. I understood their anger, their thirst for vengeance. But I also knew, as Robb did, that endless bloodshed solved nothing.

“And what of Jaime?” Ser Edmure asked, his voice cutting through the tension. “The Kingslayer. Does he get to simply walk away after all he’s done?”

Robb’s jaw tightened. My stomach clenched. I knew what was coming. “Jaime Lannister is a special case," Robb said slowly. "He will be dealt with separately."

The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. I knew what Robb intended. Justice, or perhaps vengeance, demanded the Kingslayer's head.

Suddenly, the doors to the war room burst open, and two guards dragged in a familiar, disheveled figure. Jaime Lannister. His golden hair was matted with dirt, his once-proud face gaunt and pale. He looked less like a Kingslayer, and more like a cornered animal. The room erupted in outrage. Curses and threats filled the air. Robb rose to his feet, his hand instinctively reaching for the sword at his hip.

“I’ll have your head for informing your sister of our plans after we sent you to ring the surrender bells, Kingslayer!" Robb roared, his voice filled with a righteous fury that chilled me to the bone. "You betrayed us!"