Robb thought that Cersei looked like shit when she first emerged from the keep. Joffrey, the blonde prick, looked a hundred times worse. The cocky look he adopted from his father, his true father, was gone, replaced with a look of terror and misery. His eyes were rimmed red from his constant sobbing and his voice had become scratchy and practically useless from all the screaming and ranting he did when he had first been imprisoned. His character had been stripped down to what it had always been: A bully and a craven.
Cersei tried to look strong, but weeks of captivity had broken down her resilience and now she just hobbled forward, prodded by some of Mormont's gold cloaks. Clothed in a simple cloth dress that was barely better than a sack, without any pride, she didn't look quite as beautiful as Robb thought she had been when he first saw her in Winterfell. He had been told once that Cersei was like gold; gold and beautiful. Now she looked like rusted iron―corroded and brittle.
Robb stood with Ser Brynden and Brienne off to the side of the dias, allowing the Targaryens to run this event. They were in the courtyard of the Red Keep, with a massive crowd of commoners held at bay by a line of Unsullied and gold cloaks. A single block had been placed near the edge of the dias, with a wicker basket right next to it.
Daenerys and Aegon stood together, their council and guards just off to the side. Both were dressed in red and black clothing, and Robb couldn't help but admit that they looked like royalty. Perhaps it was the ancestry of their house, but they looked the part of king and queen. Though Robb did note that there was a tension between them, something he had noticed more than once.
"Cersei Lannister." Aegon called, his voice carrying over the crowd and courtyard. "You are guilty of usurping the throne, incest, and murder."
Robb suppressed a smile. He knew well that the Targaryens didn't give a damn about Cersei killing Robert Baratheon. But it was one more crime to add to her name and one more reason for her to face the block. Though the rumor of her ordering the murder of children did help the charge of murder.
"You will face the block for your crimes." Aegon continued.
As Aegon said this, a shambling hulk of a man wearing a white cloak came forward, placing a greatsword point down in front of him. Robb frowned before realizing that the man was a kingsguard, and probably a former member of the Golden Company given the gold rings that covered one arm.
"I didn't do anything!" Cersei cried, resisting against her guards. "I loved Robert!"
"You didn't." Robb said, taking a step forward. He nodded to Aegon and Dany, who nodded back, allowing him to continue.
"Robert Baratheon was a shell of himself, a man who fed his depression with food and women." Robb stated. "While you fornicated in the same bed with your brother, Jaime Lannister."
"Lies!" Cersei screamed.
"Take a look at the boy!" Robb called, pointing at Joffrey's pathetic figure. "Gold hair and green eyes. Just like you, like the Kingslayer, like all your children! And if that is not enough evidence, you admitted your crime to my father here in this very castle."
Cersei's face went white. "Eddard Stark is dead!"
"He is alive and well." Robb countered. "You will pay for your crimes, for they are beyond vile and as numerous as the stars."
"Ser Franklyn." Aegon called, nodding to the knight as Robb stepped back into his place.
The hulking knight nodded and readied his sword as Cersei was forced to her knees and her neck was placed. She continued to scream and struggle, but she was no match for her captors. The knight's sword came up and down swift and sure, carving through Cersei's neck in a single stroke.
The crowd went wild, cheering and clapping. Aegon had a brilliant smile on his face, and Daenerys also looked rather pleased. They were finally putting usurpers to the sword.
Joffrey was next to be pushed forward.
"Joffrey Waters, not only are you a bastard born of incest, you too usurped the throne and ordered the killing of innocents." Aegon declared. "Like your mother, you too shall face the block."
Joffrey didn't say a word and simply burst into tears. It was a miserable sight for Robb to witness, but not for the crowd. They jeered and booed, making their hate for the boy well known. The crowd noise got louder when Joffrey was forced onto the block and he lost control of his bowels.
"The boy can't even die cleanly." Ser Brynden grumbled.
"He's a coward." Robb responded quietly, not taking his eyes off of Joffrey. "He's always been a coward."
"Good riddance." Brienne said simply.
Ser Franklyn's sword went up and came down in one smooth motion, taking off Joffrey's head in a single stroke. As his body was being hauled off, Robb saw Varys motion for the guards to go grab someone else.
"Cersei and Joffrey usurped the throne that rightfully belongs to our family." Aegon called, taking Daenerys' hand. "Petyr Baelish, former Master of Coin under the usurper, is one who plunged the realm into chaos and carnage as he is the one who started a war between House Stark and House Lannister."
Robb's head snapped up when he heard this. Two more gold cloaks came forward with a disheveled Petyr Baelish between them. Baelish looked overly cocky, which annoyed Robb.
"Petyr Baelish, you are charged with corruption, theft, and causing untold damage and death to the realm." Aegon declared. "You will face the block."
Baelish smiled lazily at the Targaryen king. "Forgive me, my lord, but I know of no such thing."
Varys tutted from his place on the stage. "Come now, my old friend. Your game is up."
"And what game might that be?" Baelish asked innocently.
"You coerced Lysa Arryn into killing her husband, Jon Arryn. You then lied to Catelyn Stark and told her that it was the Lannisters who killed him." Varys explained, laying out Baelish's entire wicked plot. "You also told her that it was Tyrion Lannister who tried to have Bran Stark killed when it was really Joffrey. This caused Lady Stark to capture Tyrion Lannister, which started a war between the two houses."
Baelish could only smile. "That is a pretty tale, but it holds no water. Where is the proof?"
Varys produced a leatherbound journal from behind his back. "Here is all your dealings, along with many letters from your 'dear' Lysa telling you about all she did for you."
Baelish's mask crumbled as his lies were exposed. He looked frantically around and spotted Robb. "King Robb! Ser Brynden! I am friends with Catelyn Stark. Have her brought here! She will show you all my innocence!"
Robb crossed his arms. "No." he answered firmly. "You see, unbeknownst to you, before Lysa Arryn killed herself, she told all her bannermen that she killed Jon Arryn for you."
It was a lie, as Lysa Arryn didn't mean to tell everyone what she had done. But she had been rambling mad and the truth had escaped her lips within earshot of the lords and ladies of the Vale. Still, it made Robb's point that the man would be receiving no help from House Stark or House Tully.
Baelish began to be pulled towards the block.
"No. No! I have money!" Baelish cried. "I'll pay you!"
"I'm afraid you have no money at all." Varys called after him. "You see, you skimmed three million dragons from the crown into your own pocket, stealing from the Lannisters, the Iron Bank, and many others. That money has already gone back to paying back the Crown's debts."
Baelish kept struggling all the way to the block and only stopped struggling when his head was in the wicker basket with Cersei's and Joffrey's.
The crowd cheered, and Aegon and Daenerys embraced them, waving and smiling. Robb stayed off to the side, watching the event. Finally the crowd began to disperse and the Targaryens returned to the Red Keep.
Robb felt a light tap on his shoulder. It was Varys.
"Lord Varys." Robb said politely.
"My lord." Varys bowed slightly. "I found something in Baelish's belongings that I thought you should have." the spymaster produced a sheathed dagger from his belt, handing it to Robb.
Robb took the dagger and ran a hand over the hilt. It was polished dragonbone and Robb had a feeling that he had seen the weapon before. He unsheathed the blade and remembered where he had seen it. It had been in the hand of the catspaw who tried to kill Bran when he was in a coma.
"This is the dagger that the catspaw had." Robb said, weighing the weapon in his hand. "How did you get it?"
"I believe your mother gave it to Baelish when she came to the capitol." Varys explained.
"Why didn't you give it to your king?" Ser Brynden asked.
"It was used to try and kill Brandon Stark." Varys answered with a slight shrug as he folded his hands inside his sleeves. "Seems only logical that it goes to the injured party."
Robb sheathed the blade and nodded to the eunuch. "Thank you."
"Forgive me, my lord, but I hear that the signing of the treaty is to be delayed?" Varys asked as Robb turned to leave.
"It is." Robb said. "With my wife in her current position, I do not wish to sign anything without her by my side."
Varys bowed slightly. "Of course." he said before walking away.
Line Break
Robb stood in the center of his tent while Margaery sat in a wooden throne to his right as they received nobles and knights who presented presents to the young royals. It was well known that Robb was not a fan of the tradition, but he still managed to show genuine gratitude when he was given something. The nobles and knights walked away with a spring in their step, certain that they had done their family proud.
Robb accumulated swords, armor, shields, cloaks, and all sorts of finery from his bannermen that was collected by servants laid out behind Robb. Per Margaery's instructions, Robb was careful with the way he spoke, making sure not to show too much favoritism to any one man.
The lords who had been working closely with Robb waited till the end to present their gifts. Ser Brynden and Edmure led the procession of riverlords up to Robb. Edmure carried a long wrapped object in his hands.
"Your grace." Edmure greeted happily, handing the gift to Robb.
Robb removed the wrapping and found a beautifully crafted longbow in his hand. It was perfectly balanced and lacquered to a dull brown color. Robb looked a little closer at the wood and found carvings of flowers, wolves, and fish.
"Fish, Uncle?" Robb said with a grin.
"The prince is the grandson of Eddard Stark and Mace Tyrell." Ser Brynden said formally. "But he is also the great-grandson of Hoster Tully. Never let him forget."
Robb grasped hands with both men. "Of course. Thank you for this amazing gift."
Robb received gifts from the Mallisters, Brackens, and Blackwoods before the lords of the Reach came forward, led by Garlan and a man wielding a ornate cane with one leg braced. He bowed deeply to both Robb and Margaery, and Robb's wife had a brilliant smile on her face.
"Your grace, my queen." Willas said fondly.
Robb helped Margaery up so that she could hug her brother, who had remained in Highgarden during the war. Robb knew that he had travelled with Ser Jon Fossoway as they made their way from Oldtown to King's Landing, but he wanted to surprise his wife since he rarely got the opportunity.
"Willas!" Margaery laughed as she hugged her brother. "I didn't know you were coming!"
"I sent word ahead." Willas replied, glancing at Robb who had a knowing smile on his face. "It seems the message didn't get passed on."
Margaery gave Robb a mock glare before returning to her chair. "Nevertheless, I am happy to see you. How is mother?"
Willas's smile faded. "Perhaps later, yes?"
Margaery, realizing what she had said, nodded quickly and dropped the subject. "Of course. Later."
"Your graces, I have brought with me two of my finest horses." Willas explained. "Wesley is as sturdy and stolid as I have ever seen and will never fail you, your grace. Silver runs like the wind and is just as smooth. She's also a morgan, which I know is your favorite." he said, nodding to Margaery."
"He asked if he should bring a hound, but I said no for obvious reasons." Garlan added jokingly.
Robb grinned and embraced both his goodbrothers. "Thank you, both of you. I hear you are quite the horse breeder, Willas. I cannot wait to see how Wesley does."
The Tyrell brothers bowed and stepped away for a man bearing a green apple to march forward. A young squire followed him, bearing a sheathed longsword. Both bowed to Robb and Margaery.
"Your graces." he greeted.
"Ser Jon." Robb said back. "I wish to thank you for reclaiming Oldtown."
The knight bowed slightly. "I only wish that I had gotten there sooner." he looked at Margaery. "My sincere condolences, my lady. Lord Mace was a great man."
Margaery smiled and wiped away a tear. "Thank you, ser."
"I wish to present to the king a sword that was claimed during that battle." Ser Jon said as his squire offered the sword hilt first to Robb. "Dunstan Drumm died fighting, but I managed to reclaim his sword, Red Rain."
Robb drew the sword, marveling at the red-tinged valyrian steel. Just like the sword Robb wore at his side, it was amazingly light and incredibly sharp. Robb had heard a rumor that the sword once belonged to House Reyne, an extinct house from the Westerlands.
"A fine gift, ser." Robb said. "You honor me."
"A weapon worthy of a king." Fossoway said easily before bowing and leaving so that the next person can come forward.
Randyll Tarly marched up to Robb, his hands held behind his back. He still wore his battered, functional armor and had his valyrian steel greatsword Heartsbane strapped to his back. He bowed when he reached the northern king.
"Your grace." he greeted.
"Lord Tarly, I did not expect you here." Robb said. "I thought you would have preferred to stay in the west."
"I had to do my duty." Tarly said. "My son Dickon is currently besieging the Rock. The buggers inside still have to be worn down still."
"And the Iron Islands?" Margaery asked.
"Lord Redwyne is putting down the last of the resistance." Tarly answered.
Robb nodded. He had been receiving constant reports from Tarly's short and bloody war in the Iron Islands. The Iron Fleet had been trapped and burned by the men of the Shield Islands and the Arbor, leaving the islands defenseless to Tarly's men and the Redwyne Fleet. The Lord of Horn Hill had split up his host, taking most of the region in one swoop. The only island that had given up had been Harlaw, where Ser Harras Harlaw had submitted to the men of the Reach.
Pyke had been no different. After conquering the town of Lordsport, Tarly himself had arrived on the island to take command of the siege. He didn't bother with siege equipment, but took a page out of Robert Baratheon's book and had the bridges that connected the three keeps destroyed. After that, it was only a matter of time before Balon gave in.
Robb had already given his instructions to Tarly before the islands were even invaded. Balon Greyjoy and his brothers were to be executed, and that's the fate they received. With Victarion Greyjoy dead, Asha Greyjoy was now the lady of Pyke.
However, she and many other ironborn lords and heirs were prisoners in the North and the Reach.
"As always, my lord, your work is exemplary." Robb said. "The Iron Islands themselves are a gift to be sure."
"I did my duty, my lord, nothing more." Tarly said before presenting his gift; a hunting horn. "This was crafted after the horn carried by Herndon of the Horn, one of the founders of my house."
Robb took the horn, running a hand over the smooth, ivory surface. It was without ornamentation, but it was still a masterfully crafted gift. It was also a very smart gift to give a king who is related to a famous hero from the Age of Heroes, an age that Herndon of the Horn lived in.
"A fine gift, my lord." Robb praised. "Thank you."
Robb continued to receive gifts from his closest allies. Lord Forrester presented him with an ironwood shield, Ser Morton Waynewood presented Robb with a wolf pelt cloak while Margaery received a fox pelt cloak. Lord Royce presented Robb with a fearsome wolf helm that looked strangely like Greywind.
When Robb thought that the event was finally at an end, the tent flap opened to reveal a young girl with long black hair that covered one side of her face like a curtain. She wasn't very pretty, but she held herself well. She was flanked by two men bearing the black stag of Baratheon. The girl herself carried a large book.
"Shireen Baratheon." Lord Caron whispered to Robb.
"Lady Baratheon." Robb called, remembering that he had sent the girl to Storm's End, escorted there by Ser Davos.
That had not been a good message for Robb to receive. Taking Dragonstone hadn't been easy, nor had capturing the red woman. What no one had expected was Selyse Baratheon throwing herself into the sea after seeing her castle taken and seeing the red priestess drowned. It had left Shireen parentless, but thankfully not without family. She was brought to Storm's End, where she became another ward under Ser Cortnay Penrose alongside her bastard cousin Edric Storm, Robert Baratheon's bastard son that was kept safe from Cersei's men.
Shireen walked up to Robb, looking out of place in a group of men wearing armor and carrying swords. She wore a plain black riding garb with a black cloak bearing a golden stag head.
"Your grace." she said curtseying before Robb. For just a moment, Robb caught sight of the greyscale that covered one side of the girl's face.
"We did not expect you, my lady." Margaery said with a kind smile. "We would have received you better."
"It is quite alright, my lady." Shireen said. Her voice was soft and sweet, but also intelligent. "This was an….impromptu trip."
Robb smiled. "That is a large book, my lady."
"One of my favorites." Shireen said. "Wonders Made by Man by Lomas Longstrider."
"An interesting favorite." Margaery commented.
"Many see it as a simple list of wonders, my lady." Shireen explained. "I see it as a challenge."
"How so?" Robb asked.
"Anything is possible, my lord." Shireen said. "All that is needed is the courage to try."
The room was silent after Shireen spoke. Robb looked down at the girl, who met his gaze unwaveringly. Robb got down on one knee and gently took the book, weighing it in his hands.
"This is a great gift, my lady." Robb said quietly.
Shireen nodded towards the sectioned off room near the back of the tent where Torrhen currently was with Mira, Margaery's primary lady-in-waiting.
"It's for the prince, my lord." she replied. "As a future king, he should believe more than anyone that anything is possible, especially the impossible."
Robb smiled, wordlessly acknowledging Shireen's point. All the gifts he had received so far were either for him or for him and Margaery. None so far had been only for Torrhen. It was a primary reason why Robb despised such traditions. Shireen was the only one who had given a gift that was meant specifically for Torrhen.
"Then it is a perfect gift, my lady." Robb corrected, loud enough so that only Shireen could hear him.