"Lord Stark." Daenerys greeted as she and her advisors entered the tent, flanked by a dozen Unsullied.
Ser Brynden had told Robb a little about the slave soldiers from Astapor in Slaver's Bay. They were eunuch soldiers who were said to feel no pain nor fear. They were made famous after the fall of Valyria when a dothraki horde thousands strong surged into the Free Cities. Qohor had apparently hired two companies of sellswords and had a city guard of well armed and armored cavalry. They had hired three thousand Unsullied as an afterthought. Those three thousand had killed twelve thousand Unsullied, saving the city.
Now Unsullied were bought by wealthy merchants and princes all throughout Essos. They were supposedly the perfect guards. Disciplined and deadly.
"My lady." Robb greeted, standing up. He nodded to the servants who stood off to the side. "Bread and salt."
The visiting group took the proffered food before taking their seats. The table in front of them bore ample food and wine, but Robb doubted that it would be eaten. The Targaryen queen had brought the Hand of the King Jon Connington and Ser Barristan was once again at her side. The last member was a bit of a surprise, but Prince Doran had finally made an appearance.
Robb had brought an equal number of people. Margaery, of course, sat at his right hand. Her grandmother was on her right and Lord Forrester sat on Robb's left. The northern lord had become something of a favorite for the northern king ever since the battle at High Heart. His calm, collected demeanor reminded Robb slightly of his father.
When Robb took his seat, the meeting started.
"I hope Lady Sansa is doing well." Daenerys started kindly. "She seemed a little shaken up when we returned her to you."
Robb nodded. "My sister is well, thank you."
That was a lie, but Robb didn't want to admit how Sansa was truly doing. He had spent most of the night with his sister weeping on his shoulder as she spouted stories of how Cersei and Joffrey had abused her. Joffrey had only had her physically assaulted once, which the Imp had thankfully put a stop to, but that didn't stop the blonde prat and his bitch of a mother from verbally assaulting Sansa.
Sansa was currently being kept company by Harrold Arryn and guarded by Dacey Mormont. She and Margaery would be introduced tonight when the three of them and Lady Olenna had dinner.
"Lord Stark, we are your guests, I would like you to begin the proceedings." Daenerys said.
"Thank you, my lady." Robb said with a smile. "I have taken the time to speak with my sister, and she has requested that a couple of unsung heroes who protected her be spared and allowed to join my camp."
Daenerys raised an eyebrow. "And who might those be?"
"The Imp, Tyrion Lannister is the first." Robb answered. "I believe he also comes with a young boy named Pod and a sellsword named Bronn." he added, consulting the notes he kept on hand. "As well as the Hound, Sandor Clegane."
"Anyone else?" Daenerys asked.
"We would also ask that Tommen Baratheon be allowed out of the city and be brought under our protection." Margaery added. "We understand that Myrcella Waters is in the dornish camp, and so we lay no claim on her. So long as she is safe."
"She is." Doran confirmed.
"May I ask what your intention for the boy is?" Daenerys asked. "He is, after all, your enemy."
"Is he?" Robb asked curiously. "My fight was with his older brother and mother. Tommen was, and still is, a boy. Because of his brother's conduct, I fear that there might be those in the city who wish to see him dead, or worse, on the throne."
Connington leaned closer to the Targaryen queen and whispered something to her. Daenerys looked at the man, who nodded gravely. The girl sighed before looking back at Robb.
"You are asking me to give up five of my prisoners." Daenerys said finally. "You understand that I must receive compensation."
"I have the Mountain and Lorch in chains and ready to be handed over." Robb said instantly, watching Prince Doran in the corner of his eye perk up in seat as the men were mentioned. "I am well aware of their crimes and, given the grudge House Martell and House Targaryen has against them, I believe that they are fair compensation."
"We want the Kingslayer as well." Connington said.
Robb shook his head. "He is not on the table, my lord. He will face northern justice."
"But he killed…"
"If you are about to say that he deserves to be handed over to House Targaryen because he killed the Mad King, then you make our case for us." Lady Olenna cackled. "Come now, my lord. Aerys was king, but he was known as the Mad King. If the Kingslayer didn't do it, I assure you that others would have."
Connington glared at the old woman, but held his tongue. He seemed to know the Queen of Thorns reputation and wisely decided not to engage the woman anymore. He would end up embarrassing himself.
"You ask for much, my lord." Daenerys said.
"My lady, you still have Cersei and Joffrey." Margaery pointed out. "Your nephew, I believe, was the one who slew Tywin Lannister. None of whom we have asked for played any significant role, if any role at all, in the downfall of your family."
"The two men you are receiving, on the other hand, committed atrocious acts that not even the reasoning of war can fix." Lord Forrester added.
"What do you say, my lady?" Robb said, leaning back in his chair. "Do we have a deal?"
Line Break
"Word from the Reach." Robb said, sounding a little confused. "It's from Oldtown."
"I was beginning to wonder." Margaery said, easing herself into her chaise. Her grandmother had ordered one brought to from Highgarden. It was an elongated, blush type of chair that Margaery was beginning to love more and more as the pregnancy progressed.
Robb quickly read the message, his confusion turning to dread. It was from Lord Leyton Hightower, and it contained many important facts, including the assaults on the Citadel, the burning of the Starry Sept, and the capture of many ironborn ships and nobles. But what caught Robb's gaze was the last line.
Lord Mace Tyrell died fighting Victarion Greyjoy. He was able to injure the man before dying. Ser Jon Fossoway finished him off with Mace's sword.
"What?" Margaery asked, sitting up slightly.
Robb didn't answer. "Ser Balon?"
"Yes, your grace?"
"Please send for Ser Garlan, Ser Loras, and Lady Olenna. Tell them that it is urgent." Robb ordered.
"Robb, what is it?" Margaery asked again, now looking worried.
Robb shook his head. "Trust me, we need to wait for the others." he said, pulling up a chair next to his wife and taking her hand.
It took a few minutes for the three other Tyrells to assemble in Robb's and Margaery's quarters. Loras had been the first to arrive, while Olenna had been escorted in by Garlan.
"Robb, what is the matter?" Garlan asked.
Robb glanced at Margaery before looking back at the knight. "As you know, the ironborn took Oldtown a few weeks ago. I sent Lord Mace and his host to take the city back….he did so, but at the cost of his own life."
Robb felt Margaery's hand tighten on his, tears instantly springing to her eyes. "Robb, please tell me you're joking."
Robb put both hands over hers. "I wish I was Margaery." he nodded to the letter he left on the table. "I received that letter from Lord Leyton. When the ironborn surged out of the city, they were easily trapped and slaughtered. Victarion Greyjoy was one of the last raiders left. Lord Mace fought him by himself and died. At least before died, he injured Victarion enough to where he was finished off by Ser Jon Fossoway."
Loras rushed across the room and snatched the letter of the table, reading it quickly. Whereas Margaery had tears in her eyes, Loras was completely red in the face and had murder in his eyes. He practically threw the letter at Garlan when he was done reading it.
"I have to go." he said.
"Where?" Olenna snapped.
"To the Iron Island." Loras answered. "To avenge my father!"
"Lord Tarly is already working on that." Robb said. "All that's left is Lordsport and Pyke. The ironborn are all but defeated."
"But…." Loras began.
"Loras, let it go." Garlan said gently as he handed the letter to his grandmother. "Father died a hero. He fought a very dangerous and highly skilled warrior and he saved a lot of other men. He died with honor, let him have that."
"My foolish boy." Olenna whispered. "My brave, stupid boy."
"His body is being sent back to Highgarden where Lady Alerie and Willas can say their farewells." Robb said.
"Willas will probably make his way here after Father's body reaches Highgarden." Garlan said sadly. "He'll want to pledge loyalty to you, Robb, as the new Lord of Highgarden."
"He'll also be able to help with the negotiations." Olenna added.
"Will your mother be alright?" Robb asked.
"She's a strong woman, she'll manage." Olenna answered. "Mace was very lucky he convinced her to marry him."
"I am sorry that I had to break this news to you all." Robb said.
"It had to be done." Garlan sighed. "I'd glad I heard it from you rather than learning about it later."
Loras simply nodded, his anger had faded to sadness and now he pouted on the side, trying to hide his tears. He had always been his father's favorite, according to both Margaery and Garlan. He was dealing with powerful feelings, but so where Margaery and Garlan. He was their father. It's never easy to lose someone like that.
Robb knew from personal experience.
"Please, let me know if you need anything at all." Robb continued.
Garlan nodded and looked at Loras, motioning that they all should leave. The three Tyrells bowed to Robb before leaving, their sadness palpable.
"Do you need anything?" Robb asked quietly, turning to his wife.
Margaery shook her head slightly, leaning on Robb's shoulder. The two young royals stayed like that for a moment. It reminded Rob so much of when he and Jon had mourned their father together.
Robb had been leaving the castle, ready to hack at the first tree he saw when Jon had caught him, knowing what he was about to do. Instead, he brought Robb back inside and the two brothers drank ale and spoke in hushed tones about no particular topic. At first, it had been about their father, but as they got more drunk, they began to swap stories from their childhoods. It had been a good way for both brothers to heal together.
"They won't get to meet him." Margaery whispered, her tears sliding silently off her cheeks and onto Robb's sleeve. "Our child won't get to meet my father."
Robb nodded, not having any words to say in reply.
"How…." Margaery said, at a loss for words, something she very rarely was. Somehow, Robb knew what she was trying to say.
"It'll be up to you and your brothers to tell our son about him." Robb said, not sure why he had said son. It just sounded right. "He'll hear stories of how the great Mace Tyrell fought Victarion Greyjoy single handedly, a man eight feet tall and as strong as a mammoth. He'll hear how, even though his grandfather didn't kill the man, he saved dozens of lives when he mortally injured the fearsome raider."
"How do you know he'll be a he?" Margaery asked.
Robb shrugged gently. "Just a feeling. I've learned to trust those. And when he arrives, we'll make sure he knows all about his grandfather, Mace Tyrell. A very brave man."