Robb crossed his arms, standing at the end of the table as his council chatted quietly, putting out battle plans and strategies. Robb was no longer surrounded by his northmen or riverlanders, but instead was surrounded by a much smaller council made up of Lord Gregor Forrester, Ser Donnel Swann, Lord Bryce Caron, and Garlan. His northmen and riverlanders were north at the Twins, and the other reacher lords were in the west with Tarly. All Robb had were the stormlords, some twenty thousand reachmen under Garlan's command, and another thousand northmen under Lord Forrester's command.
While Robb's mind should have been on the battle ahead, he could not stop thinking about the argument he and Margaery had before he left Riverrun.
Line Break
Robb was having Olyvar finish his armor when Margaery had burst in, looking none too pleased. The young king had thanked Olyvar for his help and had sent the boy away to saddle his horse before Margaery unleashed on him.
The Rose of Highgarden had given the boy a sweet smile before closing the door behind. When she turned back towards Robb, she wasn't smiling.
"When were you going to tell me that I'm staying here?" she asked angrily.
Robb leaned against his desk, frowning. "I thought we had an understanding," he said. "We spoke about it on the ride from the Reach. When I go to fight, you stay behind."
"You are marching towards Harrenhal, surely there is a castle far closer than Riverrun that I can stay at?" Margaery countered.
Robb shook his head. "There isn't," he said firmly. "At least not one that I would trust leaving you."
Margaery frowned. "What's the point of guards then."
Garlan had placed three of his best knights to protect his sister, and Robb had added to that by ordering the rest of Renly's kingsguard, Ser Emmon Cuy, Ser Guyard Morrigen, and Ser Parmen Crane to protect his new wife. That made eight capable knights protecting the new Queen in the North.
"The point of guards is to keep you free from blades in the dark," Robb answered. "Margaery, you mean more to me than you can possibly understand. I would have you by my side every moment of every day, but that is simply not the case right now." Robb said passionately. "If you were to be harmed because you were near the battlefield, then not only would I blame myself, but I would have two of my most capable warriors, your brothers, doubting me. That is something I can not have, now more than ever."
Margaery was taken back by Robb's heartfelt words. She knew her new husband was never afraid to say what was on his mind, but she had never seen him so openly speak about her with such care and love.
She bowed her head. "Thank you, Robb," she said quietly.
Robb walked up to her, lifting her head so that her eyes met his. "Don't worry," he said with a slight smile. "I will return."
"How can you be sure?" Margaery asked.
"I am the Young Wolf," Robb joked. "The Young Dragon come again." his smile faded but was somehow filled with more love. "I also have a great girl waiting for me. One I will return to."
"And who might this girl be, my lord?" Margaery asked quietly, finding her face very close to Robb's.
"Oh, I think you know who she is," Robb said before pulling Margaery in for a deep kiss.
The two stayed in the embrace for a long time before a knock at the door broke them from it. They looked at each other, smiles plastered on their red and out of breath faces.
"My lord, your horse is ready and the lords are waiting in the courtyard," Olyvar called, his voice carrying through the door.
Robb chuckled. "It seems I must go." his smile faded. "I am sorry we did not get to spend much time together, my love."
Margaery sighed quietly, resting a hand on Robb's face, running her fingers through his beard. "You are a king and a warrior," she said. "As much as you are mine, you also belong out there to those who fly your banners."
Robb nodded. "So it would seem."
Margaery kissed him again. "Return to me. Please," she whispered, resting her forehead on his.
"I promise," Robb whispered back.
Line Break
"Where do you plan to meet Tywin, my lord?" Ser Donnel asked curiously.
"Our scouts have not reported any host moving from Harrenhal east, west, or north," Robb said after a moment. "It seems the Lion means to fight us on his terms. We have no choice but to comply."
"That does not seem wise, your grace." Lord Forrester said honestly. "Tywin is feared for a reason. He will have a trap ready."
Robb nodded to the man. "As I expect he would," he answered. "Tywin is outnumbered, my lord. I did not expect him to meet me in the open field, but for me to come to him. The one thing we can be sure of is that he will not hide in Harrenhal."
"How do we know that?" Garlan asked.
"Because if he does, then I will simply trap him there," Robb explained. "He can not afford to stay behind his walls, nor can he afford to march out. He will stay close to Harrenhal, at an area of his choosing, and fight us there."
"So how will we face him?" Lord Caron asked.
"That all depends on how Tywin positions himself, my lord," Robb said with a shrug. "He will do his best to take away our advantage of numbers, funnel ourselves towards him."
"How do you know that?" Ser Donnel asked.
For Garlan, Donnel, and Caron, this was their first time in an actual war council with their king. They were surprised by how he has been able to easily predict what the enemy will and will not do. For Lord Forrester, he was enjoying the other men's shock and wonder.
"Because that's what I would do," Robb answered firmly. "My lords, we will deal with Tywin when we reach him. We will be diligent, we will be careful. Tywin expects me to march towards, green as grass and full of bravado. He expects me to be arrogant and stupid. Trust me when I say that the Old Lion will get a very unwelcome surprise."
"My lords, what of the rumors that a large cavalry host has joined the Lannisters?" Lord Forrester asked.
"Ser Jon Fossoway has sent reports that the lords of the Crownlands have been strengthened by more men. Perhaps the Lannisters ordered a mercenary company. Now that host is in Harrenhal." Robb said easily. "At most, it's another twenty thousand men. We still have five thousand more swords than him. That is an advantage I mean to use."
Robb looked down at the map, noticing where the red pieces were and where his yellow and green pieces were. Because the crownlander lords had marched north to join Tywin, the number of pieces was more or less the same amount. The young king had hoped to keep the 2-1 advantage over the Lion, but it seems like the Young Wolf's luck with the gods had come to an end. He had to rely on himself now.
"That will be all for today, my lords," Robb said. "We will meet again before we march into battle. Once we have full knowledge of what we face and where they are."
The others nodded and filed out, except for Garlan, who was making a habit of staying back after meetings. When the two were alone, Robb poured them both wine, handing a goblet to the man.
"Something on your mind?" he asked curiously.
"Your grace…." Garlan started before Robb cut him off.
"Please, Garlan, we are alone and are now brothers. Call me Robb." Robb stated firmly.
"Robb," Garlan said with a smile. "When Margaery came looking for you, she was quite cross. I hope you two didn't part on bad terms."
Robb shook his head. "She was mad, but we fixed it."
"Thankfully my sister has always been extremely level-headed," Garlan said with a chuckle. "My grandmother would have whacked you with her cane."
Robb chuckled as well. "All the better I didn't marry her then." he joked.
The two men shared a laugh as they finished their drinks. Garlan had taken an older-brother type role with Robb, one that both of them had fallen into naturally. As Robb had always been the eldest, it had been nice to have an older sibling for a change.
"Do you think we will win?" Robb asked.
Garlan placed his cup back on the table, tapping the silver thoughtfully. "I believe we can if you lead us," he said finally. "When word of your victory over the Kingslayer reached us, even Tarly was impressed, as I'm sure you've probably heard. I thought that you got lucky, as did Renly, but then you fought the demon."
Robb grimaced and rolled his shoulders, still remembering the pain that he had felt for weeks after fighting the damn thing. Riding and walking, simple day-to-day activities had been painful. He was thankful that his back was now fully healed.
"I will admit, not my smartest decision," Robb said.
Garlan chuckled grimly. "That is when I knew that you were more than just a young northern noble. You were special."
Robb smiled. "Perhaps it was luck." Robb countered. "But with the Freys and the Boltons….it seems my luck has run out."
Garlan got up from his seat, putting a hand on Robb's shoulder. "Do not give up just yet, brother. We'll need just a bit more of that Stark luck."
With that, the Tyrell knight walked out of the room, leaving the young king with a lot to think about before he faces the most dangerous man in Westeros.