Winter is Coming: House Stark Quest

The Riverlands had been secured easily enough, with the Lannisters effectively paralyzed. Your capture of Lord Tywin and his kin had placed them in an effectively untenable position. His goodbrother and cousin Ser Stafford had raised a host to replace the ones lost at Oldstones and Riverrun, but their leadership had yet to make any moves against you.

You were loathe to delve into politics, but perhaps the men holding Casterly Rock might be willing to kneel to Stannis in exchange for permission to keep holding it. Or there was Lord Tyrion, always with the japes even from a filth-covered cell ("How distressingly unfamiliar," he had cracked), whose father seemed to have nothing but loathing for him.

Would he turn traitor? You supposed it was possible, but ultimately irrelevant. The true threat, father had told you, was King Robert's youngest brother. The Lord of Storm's End had taken to wife a daughter of Mace Tyrell and in doing so won the fealty of the Reach. Combined their host far exceeded any troops left to the Lannisters.

'I did not come south to fight for the Iron Throne.'

Eddard Stark was safe, or as safe as any man could be with winter on the way. He had declared your House for Stannis (albeit somewhat loosely) but left it to you how you would enforce the king's will.

Slowly. Disinterestedly. You were disinclined to send Northerners - or Riverlands, for they too were your people - to die. You felt almost foul thinking it, but wouldn't it just be... convenient if Stannis and Renly killed one another and left House Baratheon without a legitimate heir to fill that power vacuum?

Great things and great men could emerge from such openings.

You shook the thought from your head. The situation in the Riverlands was not so ideal as it had first seemed, such that you could sit around daydreaming what-ifs. Lady Whent had responded poorly to your interest in her castle, taking it as a desire to see her evicted or soon dead, and your uncle for all his gratitude seemed inclined to claim his mother's birthright in good time.

Not that it was without victories. Your western border had been secured with the surrender of the Golden Tooth. You had feared a siege, but the combination of your reputation ("the Demon of Oldstones") and their hostage lord had seen you granted entry and protection as a guest of House Lefford. His daughter Alysanne would wed Lord Edmure (for it was lord now, with your grandfather's passing) and in time House Tully would assume control of a fortress that had paid Casterly Rock its fealty for centuries.

Perhaps some of that Western sense and skill at thrift would rub off on the Tullys and assist them in consolidating power. The Starks had certainly gained much from their early marriages.

You were pulled away from these thoughts by a rider of your Dawnguard (Marlon Perry, you recalled, the man who had trampled Amory Lorch). "Pardon, milord. There are two guests seeking a parley with you. They say they've come from the Eyrie. And from Dragonstone."

Never a dull moment, was there?

---

It took a great deal of effort to keep your jaw from dropping. You had expected the rider from the Vale to be some stuffy lordling with dreams of Andal superiority. Instead... "Mother?"

Lady Catelyn Stark dismounted, handing the reins to a rough-looking but quite pretty girl with short black hair. "Hello, Robb."

"I know you wrote to your sister. I did not think you would return to the Eyrie after everything that happened last time-"

"Matters have evolved, I am afraid. I conferred with your father before he left for the Wall and deemed that it was necessary. I thought perhaps Lysa would prove unreachable, but that in person I could remind the Knights and Lords of the Vale that they once called Ned Stark and Robert Baratheon their brothers."

You frowned. "I'd feared we might come across as stirring insurrection against the House of Arryn. What happened?"

Mother sighed. Her eyes were pink, you realized. "I departed from White Harbor after being feasted by Lord Manderly. The man has his eyes firmly set on you wedding one of his daughters. Either would make a fine bride. When I made ground I was arrested and taken to the Eyrie."

"Arrested-"

"Lysa had me presented before her. P- Littlefinger was with her. He looked... desperate. He was trying to persuade her to declare for Renly, and she was listening. She wanted to betray us, betray me. She was going to march her armies into the Riverlands as allies then strike us from behind."

She took your hand and squeezed it. "They did take our letters poorly. The Royces and Redforts alone were supportive. Others we might have relied on were cowed into silence by the zealous among them. They called us heretics, and Stannis a godless man who could not hold the throne. Only Lysa didn't care about that." The next words did not come easily to her. "She cared about me. She accused me of being jealous. Of wanting to steal everything that she had. I tried to reason with her, I did. She ordered them to open the Moon Door."

You drew your sword. "I do not know how you escaped, but I will see the Eyrie pulled from the Giant's Lance-"

"Littlefinger tried to stop her. She accused him of loving me even when he bedded her. Even when she killed Jon Arryn for him. Even when she gave him a son."

What? Was every noble babe of Westeros a product of cuckoldry?

"He moved to silence her. She pulled away and- she fell. And he fell with her."

What was there to say? You could not even imagine such absurdity. Such useless loss. What had Baelish wanted in the end, that he was willing to kill and scheme and ruin the lives of everyone he came across. You truly could not imagine, nor could you ever want to understand. You took mother in your arms. She was shaking slightly, but no more tears fell.

"When the Knights of the Vale realized they had been deceived, they drew their swords in anger. I don't know who they thought to fight, but Yohn Royce took advantage of the uncertainty. He roared that Renly had sent such a viper into their midst to kill Lord Jon and steal the throne of the Vale. That he had conspired to ruin their old friendships and use them as his tools. He asked who would join him."

The ground began to rumble around you. Mother did not smile, but she seemed almost proud. "And the Knights of the Vale answered."

The might of another kingdom joined to yours. How could Renly hope to resist? "What of your sister's boy. Robert... Stone, I suppose."

"He will be returning with me to Winterfell, and surrender any claim to the Eyrie or the Vale of Arryn. Perhaps with time he can become a better man than his father, and escape the parenting of his mother. The new Lord of the Vale is a great-nephew of Lord Jon, one Harrold Hardyng- now Harrold Arryn. His guardian Lady Waynwood approached me to discuss a renewing of weakened ties."

You knew what that meant. "Sansa."

She nodded. "I have lost my sister to the Vale. I do not wish to lose my daughter. It is a fine match though, and I have no cause to distrust Lord Arryn. I am-"

"Unsure. I understand mother. You've been through a harrowing time. Rest. I'll see you on your way home to Winterfell soon enough."

She nodded. "I have been somewhat under the weather since I left. Perhaps I'm simply unused to the southern climate."

[] Sansa will marry Lord Harrold Arryn and become Lady of the Vale, renewing ties to the North and Riverlands.
[] Sansa will remain unattached. Lord Arryn will have to find a bride elsewhere.
[] Write-In.

---

"Who's next?" You asked with no small amount of curiosity. Surely- surely the next visitor could not surpass the tale you had just been told. What a mad place the world had become.

"That'd be me, Lord Stark." He was a bearded man, some years older than your father with his brown hair peppered with grey. "Ser Davos Seaworth. King Stannis has sent me to request your aid in the coming conflict."

"The North and the Riverlands have given much, Ser Davos." You frowned. Too much. "We crushed the armies of House Lannister before they could support the usurper in King's Landing. Even now we prevent the coming of another Lannister host that might secure the capital from your armies."

"Yes, that's all well and good. Except the Lannisters aren't the biggest threat. That'd be Lord Renly and the men of the Reach. We could use your armies - and the Valemen who've joined you. We need them."

"I know you do. My men need things too. They need to return home to their wives and holdfasts. They need to finish the harvest before winter comes. It does not look to be a long one, but their families will be the ones who pay for an extended conflict."

Ser Davos stepped forward. "Then help us end it now, before it can become extended. I've heard of the battles you won."

You said nothing. The Northerners, the Riverlanders, the Valemen. Not all of them were yours to command. Yet you could not help but feel responsible.

The knight with the onion on his sigil chuckled. "I figured this wouldn't be easy. Had to talk his Grace into recognizing your point of view."

He paused. "When Lord Renly is defeated, King Stannis is prepared to come to the aid of the North and the Night's Watch. He believes his brother's commanders and knights will look as fine in black cloaks as they do in green silk. And I've come with an offer for you specifically." Meeting your eyes, he spoke clearly though not without a hint of hesitation. "Robb Stark of Winterfell, I have been granted leave to offer you the hand of Shireen Baratheon, Princess of Dragonstone, to one day serve as her King Consort."

[] Yes.
[] No.
[] Write-In.

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