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Wolf Pact by DizzyDG
 TV » Game of Thrones Rated: M, English, Family & Romance, [Robb S., Myrcella B.], Words: 163k+, Favs: 1k+, Follows: 1k+, Published: Dec 24, 2015 Updated: Sep 13, 2018865Chapter 27: XXIV: Rift
A/N: IMPORTANT! PLEASE READ! I know it's been a while guys, and I'm afraid to say, it might be a while again. I need a break. I'm falling out of love with fan fiction, and I need some time for my real life. I don't want to abandon my stories, that's why I'm having a break now instead of forcing myself to go on. I need to take the pressure off for a while, and relax. Fall in love again. I will come back to you as soon as I can. There is more on my profile about my reasons if you'd like to know more. If not, that's totally fine, but they're there if you want them.
I'll be back, I promise. Thanks for all the support you have shown me. Thanks for the follows/favourites, and most of all for the reviews. I'm sorry I haven't replied to you today, it might be selfish of me but I don't think I can face it. This chapter is only being posted because it was almost finished weeks ago. I forced myself to write another 700 words this morning so I could post this and explain to you guys what's going on.
I will fall in love again. I will be back. I hope you'll still be here, but I understand if you won't be.
Much love, and thank you.
DizzyDG
:)
XXIV: Rift
Robb
It was an almighty hammering on the door that had Robb's eyes flying open. Myrcella shuddered awake in his arms, and he just about managed to hush her in what he hoped was a soothing manner, before clambering out of bed. Whoever was on the other side of the door was clearly impatient to get his attention as they pounded against the wood again. He threw his robe about his shoulders and marched to the door. Through the drapes he could see that it was barely dawn, so unless this visitor had important news for him that could not wait he would not be best pleased. He had already had one unwelcome visitor, he would not be relishing another. In the next moment he wrenched the door open, seeing Arya on the other side with her eyes blazing.
"Kingslayer!" she spat at him, and he raised his brows, his heart pounding. He could think of only one reason that Arya would be here at this time, this angry. Gods. If she had caught a glimpse of the Kingslayer then this would mean trouble. Robb decided to feign ignorance. He had given the Kingslayer until dawn, grudgingly, and he had done so for Myrcella, who he could hear shuffling herself out of bed behind him.
"What of him?" Robb asked impatiently. "Are you even remotely aware of the time? What are you even doing up?"
"Training," she shot at him in an instant. "But that doesn't matter, because I saw him!"
"Who?" he frowned at her, and she glared at him.
"The Kingslayer, Robb! He's here! He's here at Winterfell, I swear! You need to come now!" she was practically jumping up and down on the balls of her feet, and Robb sighed heavily.
"Why would he be here, of all places?" Robb asked her, and she shrugged.
"I don't know! Who cares, Robb! Come on!" she stamped her foot at that, and it was almost enough to make him laugh.
"Alright," he agreed, "just give me a moment to dress myself. I will freeze out there in just a robe."
With that he closed the door before she could throw anymore words at him. This was not good. As he turned he caught sight of Myrcella's face. Pale. Wide-eyed. He didn't want to be the cause of anymore tears, but if the Kingslayer was still here then he would have to pay the price. His wife had to understand that. He had told her the night before. It had been the only thing he said on the matter, not wanting to spoil the joyous mood they were both in after announcing her pregnancy. It had been hard for him to drift off to sleep though, knowing that the bastard who had crippled his brother was roaming Winterfell.
"You know what I said," Robb said quietly, and Myrcella nodded her head. "Dawn is only just breaking," he continued, "I will tarry as much as I can, but Arya isn't a patient woman. Just, stay here, alright. Whatever happens, will you just stay here?"
She didn't look happy at that request as he shed his robe and began to pull on his clothing. "Would you not let me see him?" her voice was barely a whisper. "If he is still here and you must…you must do your duty – would you not let me see him first?"
"If you see him they will talk," Robb said briskly, loath to deny her. "You know they will."
"That will not be anything I am not used to," her voice rose a little, and he shook his head. "Robb, please!"
"Myrcella -"
"He is my – my…family," she finally chose the word, and he closed his eyes in despair. He had heard the unspoken word she had wanted to utter hanging between them. Myrcella knew, just as everyone else in Westeros knew.
"You know what he did to my family, to Bran," Robb said warningly.
"Of course I know," she snapped, "but that doesn't change the fact that he is of my blood. Jaime never hurt me, Robb, and he came here to warn us what my mother is planning! You said -"
"I said he could have until dawn," Robb cut her off, "and had he any sense he would have left last night when I warned him."
"Perhaps he has more to say," Myrcella whispered, her eyes shining and her hands wringing together. He hated her like this. More than that, he hated that he could find no compassion for her plight. Had she been upset over anything else he would have known how to comfort her, but he himself could muster up no sympathy for her uncle. How could he when he was faced with Bran every day? It had taken so long for his brother to dine in the hall with everyone else, and the people still stared whenever he ventured out of the keep.
"Or perhaps he is pushing his luck," Robb said coldly, "perhaps he believes I wasn't serious." Myrcella bowed her head at that and he had to look away from her before his resolve crumbled. He would happily see the Kingslayer dead, he meant nothing to him. Less than nothing. Myrcella though, she meant everything, and taking her uncle's head would hurt her. He had no desire to cause her pain, but he had a duty to his lords and his people. Letting the Kingslayer go would cause uproar. He couldn't risk that, it would do far more harm to Myrcella and his family in the long run if he did.
"I don't like doing this to you," he said quietly, "but things will get far worse if I ignore this. If he is gone then I won't chase him, I will name it a figment of Arya's imagination. She will be angry with me for a time, but it won't be forever. But if he's here, Myrcella, I have to take him to the cells. The lords would expect it, and so do the people. You and I both know what the treaty said, he was fool to come here, in warning or not. I'm sorry for what it's doing to you, but I won't change my mind."
"I know," she said, the two words trembling.
He wanted to cross to her and gather her in his arms, but before he could do so Arya was pounding on the door again. An almost growl left him as he moved to snatch up his cloak before making for the door. He turned to Myrcella as he went to open it, seeing her eyes fixed on him. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, and he saw a single tear slip down her cheek. Forcing himself to ignore it he wrenched open the door.
"I thought you might have been a little more eager to get to him," Arya sulked at him as he closed the door behind him, the sound echoing finality.
"Forgive me if I am a little disbelieving of your eyesight," he muttered back, sweeping down the hallway after her. She was almost running, such was her eagerness to take him to the Kingslayer. Robb was conflicted the entire way. Part of him wanted the Kingslayer to be gone, so as not to cause any pain to his wife. The other part of him, admittedly the larger part, wanted the bastard's head on a spike. More than anything though, he just wanted Myrcella to be able to live with what he might have to do. He fought the overwhelming urge to turn back and return to their chambers so he could gather her in his arms and try and offer some comfort.
It hurt him in ways he couldn't describe to think about her up there in their chambers crying. Crying for the Kingslayer, the man who set all this nightmare in motion. Robb shook his head as he and Arya were bowed from the keep. Crying for her father. Another voice needled at him, and he swallowed hard, again shaking his head. He decided to focus on Arya, drawing his cloak further around him as she led him in the direction of the stables.
She cursed almost as soon as she entered, and Robb entered next, watching her stalk up and down the stalls. "Watch your tongue," he told her as she cursed again, and she glared at him.
"He's gone!" she sounded furious. "He can't have got far! You need to send men out, Robb. They will catch up to him in no time, they know the land far better than him. Robb, why aren't you calling for them?!" She stared at him pointedly, and he tried to find the right words for her. Her clear anger was slowly turning to suspicion now, he could see it in her eyes. "Why won't you send men after him?" she asked him quietly.
"How can I be sure it was truly him?" he asked in response.
"Because I saw him! I know I did!" she shot back at him, and he swallowed hard. "You knew," her face crumpled, "you knew that he was here, didn't you?"
"Arya -," he started, but she had shoved passed him in the next moment, practically sprinting back towards the keep. He tore after her, but she had always been lighter on her feet than he had been. She was half way up the stairs as he half stumbled through the entrance hall, the bewildered guards hurriedly bowing him through the doors. He raced up the stairs after his sister, his heart pounding in his ears.
"Arya, stop!" he commanded her as he caught sight of her almost at his and Myrcella's door.
"This is her isn't it?!" his sister spat, rounding on him. "Never mind that he crippled our brother! That he made it that mother had to leave! If she had never gone then none of the bad things would have happened! He destroyed our family, Robb! And you have just let him go! Let him go for that…that…" she was stammering, struggling over the word.
"Don't say it," Robb warned her, shaking his head.
"You know what she really is," Arya said venomously, and his fists clenched.
"She is my wife, and she is a Stark," he snapped.
"She will never be a Stark. She is pure Lannister," she hissed back, her words piercing like a white hot knife in his heart.
"Get out of my sight," he said lowly, but she didn't move.
"Robb?" his mother's confused, sleep-laden voice behind him. He closed his eyes in despair. This was not what he had planned for his morning. Right now he should still be curled up in bed with his wife. His wife who slipped through the door of their chambers in the next moment, with wide and uncertain eyes. He wondered if she had heard. The walls were thick, but his and Arya's exchange had been more than a little heated.
"He had the Kingslayer here, and he let him go!" Arya accused at once, her eyes on their mother over his shoulder. He heard his mother's sharp intake of breath, her steps coming closer.
"Keep your voice down, if word of this gets out -," he began.
"It's true?!" his mother was disbelieving and furious in equal measure.
"It isn't how it sounds," Robb tried to explain.
"It is," Arya shot in at once. "All because of her," she turned her attention to Myrcella, and his wife visibly flinched. "I knew you would ruin him, but I stupidly gave you a chance for my brother. I wish I hadn't bothered. You are just like your mother, using people for your own gain. You -"
"Not one more word, Arya," Robb snarled.
"I never asked Jaime to come," Myrcella sounded choked, and he took a half step towards her.
"But he came? He was here?!" his mother was demanding at once.
"I gave him until dawn to leave," Robb said calmly, "I know what the treaty dictates, and I know what my lords would have wanted, but I -"
"He promised me," Myrcella cut him off, "just this once."
"I knew it," Arya hissed.
"But why did he come in the first place?" his mother asked, her brow furrowed.
"He came with information from the Capitol which was of great value to me," Robb said calmly, his eyes fixed on his mother. "It was yet another reason that I was inclined to give him the chance to leave before he was discovered by anyone else."
"What information?" his mother asked, her eyes wide now.
"Can we discuss this later, mother? Somewhere more private, perhaps?" he raised his brows pointedly, and she nodded, clear understanding on her face.
"You cannot be serious!" Arya raged. "How can you just accept this, mother?! After everything he has done – after Bran!"
"Don't you dare," their mother shook her head, eyes blazing. "You can never understand what it has done to me, to see my sweet boy like that. Even now, to see him, to think of all the things he could have done. All the things that he wanted to do, that he now cannot. But Bran is not vengeful, he does not lust for the Kingslayer's head on a spike, and he would not wish for you to speak to Myrcella in such a way. I do not believe that Robb would have let him go without good reason, and I accept his decision as King. You apologise, Arya, to your brother and to his wife, and you apologise now."
"No," Arya said defiantly. "He is being an idiot, and she will be the ruin of this family, you mark my words."
"Consider them marked," Robb snapped, and she shot him a look of pure loathing before turning on her heel and pounding down the hallway.
"Arya Stark! You come back here, right now!" their mother called after her, but she didn't pause.
"Just let her go," Robb muttered.
"You will explain everything to me later," his mother met his eyes, her tone warning. "Do not make the mistake of thinking I am happy about this, Robb. Arya spoke too much out of turn, but I understand her anger well enough. I want to know everything, and don't even think of coddling me."
"Come to father's study after you have broken your fast," Robb said heavily, and she nodded curtly.
"I'm sorry, Lady Stark," Myrcella spoke up in a tiny voice, and her eyes softened.
"I don't blame you, Myrcella," his mother assured her, placing her hand on her shoulder for a moment before fixing Robb with one more warning look. With that she turned and made her way back towards her own chambers, and Robb breathed a sigh of relief. Gods, he hated confrontation, which was ridiculous considering how many battles he had fought. Give me the dragon any day.
"Robb, I'm sorry," Myrcella was clearly on the verge of tears, and he turned to her. "I should never have spoken up for him, I'm sorry."
"There is no changing it," he said, "just as there is no changing what happened to Bran." He moved closer to her and cupped her face in his hands, gently encouraging her chin to tilt upwards so he could meet her shining eyes. "Just as there is no changing the fact that I love you."
Robb was irritable as he stamped his way towards his father's study. Anyone he came across seemed to shrink back from him, bowing or curtseying lowly and keeping their eyes fixed firmly on the floor. Usually he made sure to make eye contact with them and offer a smile or an inclination of the head. Whenever he didn't though, they seemed to instinctively know to get out of his way. He was still furious. With Arya. With the Kingslayer. With himself. Part of him wished he had just had the Kingslayer taken to the cells the night before. Then he remembered Myrcella's face, and his feelings got all muddled and confused.
He took a breath as he came upon the door of the study, before letting himself in. It wasn't a surprise to see his mother already present. She was leaning against the desk, facing the door, her face pale and a cup of wine in her hand that appeared to be shaking slightly. He inclined his head to her before moving to pour a cup of his own.
"Would you explain, please, Robb?" his mother asked him quietly, though he could hear the underlying fury in her voice. He closed his eyes for a moment, thinking how best to phrase it without panicking her. Myrcella was already beside herself, driving herself mad thinking of all the ways that her mother might try and get to him. He had tried over and over to get her to stop, to calm herself for her own sake and the sake of their baby, but still she continued to fret.
"As I said before, he brought some information from the Capitol that was valuable to me," Robb told her calmly, taking a sip of his wine before turning to face her. He was unsurprised to see that she was frowning.
"So valuable that it could not be trusted with a raven?" she asked with a raised brow, and he nodded his confirmation. "Won't you just tell me, Robb?" her eyes were almost pleading. "You're beginning to scare me, what did he tell you?"
"He told me that Cersei Lannister is plotting my death," Robb told her, trying his best to keep his tone even. It would do no good to let on how shaken he was by the news. Whatever he had told Myrcella, he was worried about what lengths her mother would go to, to be rid of him. He had already increased the presence of guards in the keep, and kept Grey Wind closer than usual. Next he would have to make sure that all newcomers to Winterfell were treated with suspicion, and searched. He didn't like to do it, but right now he felt as though he had no other choice.
"Why would she do that?" his mother's trembling voice pulled him away from his thoughts.
"Revenge?" Robb shrugged. "I cannot begin to understand her motives. From what I can gather, she is doing this under the delusional belief that I am mistreating Myrcella."
"But, that's ridiculous!" his mother protested.
"You don't have to tell me that," he said wryly, taking another drink of wine. "Myrcella has told her countless times that she is happy here, but she will not have it. It was another reason I let the Kingslayer go. Perhaps he is the only one who can talk sense into the mad bitch."
"Perhaps," his mother agreed, though she did not sound convinced. Nor did she chastise him for his language, which was very unlike her. From that Robb knew well enough that she was worried. More worried than she was allowing herself to show to him.
"I have increased the guard," he said briskly. Perhaps if he made her believe that he was not worried, she would be somewhat placated. "All newcomers will be searched for concealed weapons and poisons. I trust the people, I know they would come to me if there were anyone suspicious. You know what Northmen are like." He tried a jape, she didn't smile.
"After everything we have been through already," she shook her head, her voice breaking slightly. "Was I foolish to believe that it was over? That we could finally be happy? I thought this was it for our family, finally a chance to truly try and lay the past to rest. Now…this…"
"We are happy," Robb said firmly, trying not to think about how ridiculous that statement sounded given his confrontation with Arya earlier. His mother didn't look convinced.
"You need to speak to Arya, Robb," she said, "she needs to understand why you let him go. If you do not then she will only go on blaming Myrcella, and that poor girl must have enough worries plaguing her. I assume she knows about this, what her mother is doing?"
"She does," Robb confirmed.
"Just when she and Arya were beginning to get along," his mother fumed, and he nodded slightly in agreement before taking another drink.
"I'll speak to her," he promised his mother, "but I'm not sure if I can stomach it today."
"Will you and Myrcella be dining alone again?" his mother asked him sharply.
"Most likely, why?" he frowned.
"Do you not think that would be the perfect opportunity for someone to strike?" she demanded, eyes wide. "When it is just the two of you. What if the servant has a hidden blade, or something is slipped into your meal?!"
"Mother, calm yourself," Robb stepped towards her and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Whatever Cersei is planning, I do not think it will be poison. It is too dangerous, she would be risking Myrcella as well. How would anyone know what either of us would eat?"
"I suppose," his mother nodded, looking somewhat placated. "But it is no secret that Myrcella no longer touches wine, what if -"
"Would it please you if I declined to indulge?" Robb cut her off, and she frowned.
"This is serious, Robb," she told him, meeting his eyes.
"I know that," he admitted, "but you know I cannot show Myrcella that I'm worried. She is in turmoil as it is, and the last thing I need is for her to worry herself sick."
"I know," she agreed, "just promise me you will do all you can to keep yourself safe."
"You know I always carry my sword," he said, "and if it will please you, I will wear mail. As I have already told you, I have increased the guard, and Grey Wind is prowling the hallway out there."
"And how long are you expected to live like this?! How long are we all expected to live like this?! By the Gods, Robb, if I ever get my hands on Cersei Lannister…" she trailed off, her fists clenching by her sides. "Perhaps you ought to write to Tommen, Tywin, even!"
"And have them know I am afraid an assassin could infiltrate Winterfell? I don't think so, it might give Tywin ideas of his own," Robb said darkly.
"He wouldn't," his mother said firmly, "I am no more fond of the man than you are, but he respects you, Robb. That much has always been obvious."
"And how much do you suppose he will respect me when I tell him I am afraid of his deranged daughter?" Robb asked wryly, and she huffed in response. "I will continue to be careful, and I will hope that the Kingslayer talks some sense into her."
"And if he doesn't?" his mother asked pointedly.
"Well, then perhaps I will have to consider an alternative," he said grudgingly. "But for now, mother, will you just try not to worry, I have enough on my hands already trying to keep Myrcella calm. All this cannot be good for her, nor the baby."
"Babies are more resilient than you think, especially Stark ones," she almost smiled.
"I hope you're right," he said with a sigh.
"Look at little Bethany, born in the depths of winter, and a hardier, healthier little girl you would be hard pushed to find," his mother really did smile this time.
"Thank you," he returned the gesture.
"I understand that not all the fears are Myrcella's," she said knowingly, "just have a little faith, Robb. And do not be afraid to speak to your mother." She patted his cheek affectionately, and he couldn't help but roll his eyes.
"I am a man grown and yet you still manage to make me feel as though I only have five name days," he said amusedly, and she laughed lightly.
"It is a mother's gift," she said simply, and he smiled. "Promise me you will come to me, if it all gets too much?"
"I promise," he assured her, and she finally looked satisfied.
"Good," she said simply.
"We'll get through this, mother," he met her eyes once more, "I've fought too hard to keep this family safe and together to let it all slip away from me now. I won't let it happen. I won't let her win. I promise you that."
A/N: Bye for now guys, and thanks again.
:)
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