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The Lion Lord and the Little Wolf Girl	By : White Glove Literature Category: G through L > Game of Thrones Views: 27905 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I neither own Game of Thrones nor make money from this story.

Chapter List
- 8
- 9
- 10
Robb Stark paced backed and forth in Riverrun’s great hall in a fury, fuming, his hands clenched into tight fists. Barely two hours ago, he and his lords had been celebrating Roose Bolton’s victory over the Ironborn and the retaking of Winterfell. Theon Greyjoy had been captured alive according to the reports, but there was no news of his brothers who had been in Winterfell at the time. According to the latest raven from Roose Bolton, his armies were already on the march again. All around the room, long trestle tables were still strewn with the remains of the unfinished feast that was now long forgotten. Robb ran a hand through his auburn curls and swore under his breath.
They had been drinking and laughing, toasting to the positive turn the war had taken when suddenly one of the castle guards came rushing into the great hall, panting and bowed, delivering the awful news that the Kingslayer was gone. The goaler had gone in to deliver his meal for the day and had discovered the gate open. Inside the guard room, three hunched over figures lay motionless in pools of blood. Moving quickly to investigate, he found the Kingslayer’s cell empty.
Furious, Robb called an end to the feast and ordered the castle searched top to bottom in case the Kingslayer was still in the keep somewhere. The Northern lords and the ousted lords of the Riverlands fled the hall, hurrying to begin the search for the Kingslayer. Looking up, he paused midstride as the Greatjon came in, alongside Edmure Tully. The pair bowed low, before standing and looking serious.
“Urgent news, Your Grace. The Lannister army is attacking the castle in full force. Their catapults are hurling huge stones against the gates, and their forces scale the walls. If we don’t act fast, we’ll be overrun.” The Greatjon boomed.
“Shit.” Robb muttered darkly.
“We need to get you to the safety of the Twins, Your Grace. Your mother and the Queen have already left with a squad of guardsmen under the command of Lord Glover.” Edmure said urgently.
“What about the Kingslayer? Where is he? Has he been found?” Robb asked, swearing under his breath.
Edmure and the Greatjon shared a glance before facing their king. “He is among the Lannister officers leading the attack on the castle, Your Grace.” The Greatjon said.
“FUCK!! How the hell did he escape his cell?” Robb asked angrily as he walked towards the walls of the keep intent on overseeing the defense of the castle.
Following behind him, Edmure and the Greatjon grimaced. “We assume someone from the feast snuck out and down to the dungeons during the changing of the guard and broke him out.” Edmure replied.
“You assume?! Do we have any idea who it was?” He yelled, standing on the battlements looking out over the battlefield.
Nearby Stark and Tully bowmen fired volley after volley into the night sky, the arrows landing on the charging Lannister soldiers below while the foot soldiers threw back the siege ladders, Lannister soldiers plummeting to the ground below. No matter how many they threw down, more simply took their place.
Suddenly beyond the walls a war horn sounded and riding up along the hill on the back of a large brown charger, Ser Edwyn Frey appeared, the armies of House Frey marching behind him. The sigil of House Frey fluttering behind him in the midday breeze.
At first relieved, Robb Stark felt his hope shatter as behind the marching soldiers, in a large metal cage, drawn by two horses, he saw his mother and wife chained and gagged, Lord Glover bound tightly and tossed over the back of a mule like a sack of flower, following behind the pair.
Robb swore, cursing the faithlessness of the Freys loudly as beside him his lords turned to face him, worried looks on their faces as they waited for his instructions. “Your Grace, what should we do? They have taken your wife and mother prisoner.” The Greatjon said.
“We must hold out for now. Send a raven to Barrowton. It should get there in time to reach Lord Bolton. Tell him he must come south as quickly as possible. Tonight, when the sun goes down and they are exhausted from the battle, we’ll raid their camps and rescue my mother and wife.” Robb said, looking at each of them in turn.
XxxxxxxxxxxX
Tywin stood at the docks in Blackwater bay, surrounded by a squad of Lannister guardsmen. Beside him, Tyrion and Kevan stood silently. Despite repeated objections, threats and desperate pleas, Cersei Lannister had been forced to board the Silver Wind, a large vessel bound for the Iron Islands and Balon Greyjoy. The alliance was official. House Greyjoy had declared for Tommen.
Turning, Tywin headed back to the Red Keep, the others following behind. He had overseen the preparations for Joffrey’s funeral and the nobles loyal to the Crown had gathered in King’s Landing. The funeral would be held tomorrow morning followed immediately by Tommen’s coronation in the Sept of Baelor. The High Septon would place the crown on Tommen’s head and declare him King of Westeros.
Tywin sighed, recalling the encounter with the furious Tyrells that morning. They were outraged by Joffrey’s behavior, though he noticed they hadn’t seemed overly distraught by his death. The oaf, Mace Tyrell had insisted that since Joffrey was now dead, Tommen be offered as a replacement to keep the alliance intact.
Tommen was still just a boy, but the alliance was important to both parties and Lord Tyrell insisted the wedding take place as soon as possible since all the preparations for the wedding were nearly complete. Tommen was too young to consummate the marriage, but the Tyrells insisted it wouldn’t be too much of an issue. There would be plenty of time for that in the future.
The wedding of Tyrion and Sansa would take place in two days in the throne room. Lord Tywin had paid a small fortune to the Faith to have the High Septon personally officiate the wedding. He was determined to make the marriage a binding contract so that no one would be able to dispute the legitimacy of their claim on Winterfell and the North.
Given his son’s reputation, he was certain the consummation would be an easy affair. After the wedding to the Tyrell girl, Tommen would be traveling west to Casterly Rock in the company of Tyrion and Sansa who had agreed to foster the child while Magarey would remain behind, in the maiden vault, with her father and brother. Loras had taken to his new role in the Kingsguard surprisingly well and Mace Tyrell had been given a seat on the Small Council.
Cersei had neglected Tommen and Myrcella both, choosing to spend all her attention on Joffrey and Robert Baratheon had never paid them much attention, as a result Tommen and Myrcella had both lacked stable parental figures in their lives. Myrcella was safe in Dorne under the guardianship of House Martell, accompanied by Ser Aerys Oakheart of the Kingsguard. Tommen remained ensconced in the Red Keep with his Septa and his cats. Tywin worried about the boy sometimes. Without sound guidance there was no telling how he would turn out, but Tywin believed that if anyone could instill proper virtues in the boy it was Sansa Stark.
Tywin strode through the halls of the Red Keep, making his way towards the throne room. Walking in, he climbed the steps before settling carefully onto the Iron Throne as four gold cloaks escorted the two disgraced Kingsguard members into the hall, forcing them to kneel before the throne. The pair had been stripped of their armor and were clad loosely in the woolen shirts and breeches they had worn under their armor, their boots taken away. They knelt barefoot and dirty before the throne. Tywin studied them, ignoring their feeble protests.
“Ser Meryn Trant and Ser Boros Blount of the Kingsguard. You stand accused of willfully neglecting your sacred duties by allowing your king to be killed on your watch. Further you have dishonored the vows you made before the gods by bedding women of ill repute. How do you answer the charges?” Tywin called from the throne, face a mask as he gazed down at the pair of them.
“My lord, we can explain. We had escorted His Grace to the brothel as he ordered us to do, and when we arrived His Grace ordered us to leave, so he could…be alone with the girl.” Ser Meryn said desperately.
“Aye, my lord. We were simply obeying His Grace’s orders. We were sworn to obey him.” Ser Boros supplied weakly.
“And did His Grace order you to indulge in wine and bed whores while he was being murdered?” Tywin asked, furious.
Ser Boros opened his mouth to speak when Tywin interrupted him.
“Did neither of you think to take up posts outside the door in case you were needed instead of disgracing yourselves with women of ill repute?” Tywin asked, casting the pair of them an angry glare, his voice furious.
Ser Meryn and Ser Boros stammered weakly, trying to find a suitable reply. Disgusted Tywin shook his head and turned to Ser Ilyn Payne who stood waiting next to the throne, his great sword held in his hands. Tywin had taken the sword, Ice, shortly after returning to the capital.
“The sentence is death. Ser Ilyn Payne, do your duty.” Tywin said standing from the throne as the gold cloaks dragged the struggling Ser Meryn and Ser Boros from the hall and out into the courtyard of the Red Keep, Ser Ilyn Payne following behind.
Tywin returned to his solar, his mind racing. The Kingsguard was severely reduced. Ser Aerys Oakheart was in Dorne with Myrcella. Ser Balon Swann had returned to active duty in the capital alongside Loras Tyrell and Osmund Kettleblack, whom Tywin had yet to deal with. Boros and Meryn were now dead, and Jaime was still in the Riverlands.
He would need to think about who to replace the two with, but it would have to wait until Jaime returned and could officially swear them in. That was one of the duties of the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.
Tywin entered his chambers closing the door behind him. Tired, he settled into a chair at his table, and poured himself a glass of wine, downing it in one go. It had been a long day so far. Looking around he noticed Arya’s absence. Arya had taken to riding in the Kingswood with her sister. Worried for their safety, Tywin had assigned a pair of Lannister guardsmen to be their permanent escort whenever either of them left the Tower of the Hand. Sighing, Tywin headed into the bedchamber he shared with Arya and kicked off his boots before laying down, intent on a short kip.
XxxxxxxxxxxX
Arya bit her lip, leaning forward in her saddle, the wind blowing in her dark, shoulder length hair. Beside her on a gray mare, Sansa urged her mount faster, the pair of them laughing as they raced each other. A short distance behind them, easily keeping pace, the two Lannister guardsmen followed, keeping a careful watch on their charges.
Suddenly Sansa’s horse whinnied, rearing up and tossing her from the saddle. Startled, Arya pulled on the reins of her horse, urging it to a stop before jumping from the saddle. Behind them, their guards dismounted rushing over to where Arya knelt beside Sansa who lay on the ground, motionless but unharmed. She had a bump on her head and had lost consciousness, but Arya was certain she would be alright.
Turning her head, Arya saw Sansa’s horse floundering on its side in the grass, a pool of blood forming, a large steel cross bolt protruding from its chest. Panicking, Arya jumped up and drew needle just in time to see her guards draw their swords as a group of men, dressed in the rough, dirty clothing and mismatched armor of bandits emerged out of the trees, charging the two guards. Arya stood and raised needle, intent on helping when she felt something solid meet the back of her head and her world went dark.
When she woke, the sky was beginning to darken. Beside her on the ground, her two guardsmen lay dead. Panicking, she rose on unsteady feet, searching for her sister, but Sansa was nowhere to be found. Stooping, Arya picked up needle. The remaining horses had been stolen so she was forced to make her way back to the Red Keep alone and on foot.
XxxxxxxxxxxX
“My lord, my lord please wake up. It’s urgent.” A servant said, desperately as he tried to rouse Tywin from his bed. Startled awake, Tywin sat up, instantly worried by the fact that one of his servants had the audacity to barge into his chambers and attempt to disturb his sleep.
“What is it? What’s so important that you had to wake me?” He asked angrily. “What more could possibly go wrong today?” he briefly wondered. The servant bowed as he faced his lord, worried about the news he would have to deliver.
“There was an incident in the Kingswood. While they were out riding, bandits ambushed Lady Arya and Lady Sansa was abducted. The two guards who escorted them were both killed.” The servant said, voice laced with fear.
“Oh gods no.” Tywin thought, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. “How long ago did this happen? Where is Kevan? Send search parties into the Kingswood immediately. Find them. And beg the gods, the Stark girls are unharmed.” Tywin said, shouting.
“My lord. The lady Arya is here. She came back on foot with a head injury. Grand Maester Pycelle is tending to her now. Ser Kevan has already ridden into the Kingswood to direct the search and rescue parties, my lord.” The servant said, glancing at his lord.
Tywin’s shoulders visibly slumped in relief as he raced out of the room, rushing off to the hospital wing where Grand Maester Pycelle and other royal maesters tended to members of the royal court. Pushing open the doors of the Hospital Wing, Tywin entered, making instantly for the bed where Arya sat.
Tywin raced towards the bed, sitting and pulling Arya gently against his chest as he looked her over, fear and relief battling in his chest as he cradled her in his arms. “She’s alive and safe. I haven’t lost her.” He thought as her short arms wrapped around him and she cried into his chest.
Tywin held her, rocking her gently in his arms as he tried to comfort her.
“My sister. Sansa, they took her. I couldn’t protect her.” She said, tears in her eyes as she looked at him. Tywin swallowed, doing his best to reassure her.
“We’ll get her back, I promise. I have people out searching for her. They’ll find her, I promise.” He said as he brushed away a tear from her cheek. He kissed her forehead and she buried her face against his chest, sniffling softly.
Tywin held her, rocking her in his arms. At times it dawned on him how young she still was. He prayed this incident would end well and her sister would be unharmed. He didn’t want to think about the effect it would have on his little wolf if they couldn’t rescue her sister in time.
TBC
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The Lion Lord and the Little Wolf Girl