"I don't want to be queen. The people choose me to be their queen because if a false king sits on the Iron Throne, the kingdom will bleed."
Clarissa Baratheon has played the Game of Thrones since she was a child. But will she win or will she die?
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WHEN Clarissa finally awoke, Robb was sat on the edge of the bed beside her, looking down at her with his hand running through her loose curls. She gave him a small smile but when he didn't return it, her face fell into a deep frown. "What's wrong?" she asked, slowly lifting her upper body off the bed and resting her back against the headboard.
Robb let out a deep sigh as he ran his fingers through his curls. "It's your father. He's..." he cut himself off as he took a sharp breath in.
"He's gone, isn't he?" Clarissa asked, feeling tears starting to form in her eyes.
Robb slowly nodded his head causing his wife to gasp sharply and tears to stream down her cheeks. Robert Baratheon may not have been a good King...since he never wanted to be one nor an honourable man. But the one good thing he was...was a good father to Clarissa. She was his little girl; his princess. He raised her to be his heir; not Joffrey. And now he was gone.
Clarissa felt her body begin to shake as her sobs grew harder. She felt Robb's arms wrap around her and pull her to his chest. She didn't know how long she sobbed for, but it felt like hours before they lessened to tears.
"That means Joffrey is King...with my mother still playing his strings," Clarissa spoke, trying to regain composure as she knew that her father wouldn't want her crying over him.
Robb, however, didn't respond as he silently handing Clarissa a letter for her to read. Her eyes quickly scanned the letter before looking up at Robb with abject horror. "These are definitely my mother's words. Your father would never commit treason. Something else must be going on," Clarissa thought as her brows began to frown in confusion
"I'm not sure. But...I called the banners," Robb informed his wife whose face unfrowned.
"If you march South, I'm coming with you," she said to him; placing her hands on his shoulders.
"No. I want you to stay here," his words caused a small chuckle to escape Clarissa's lips and her eyes to roll slightly.
"You don't have a choice in the matter," a smirk grew on her face as she held her ground.
The couple remained silent for a few moments; their eyes remaining locked on each other before Robb's eyes dropped to the bed covers as he spoke in a soft voice; "I don't want anything to happen to you."
Clarissa's mouth opened slightly in surprise before a soft smile formed on her lips. Her hand gripped his chin to make his eyes meet hers again before pulling him into a soft kiss. Their kiss only lasted a few seconds before she pulled away and gave him a smile. "Nothing is going to happen to me...because I will be with you."
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"For 30 years I've been making corpses out of men, boy. I'm the man you want leading the Vanguard," Greatjon Umber argued from his position across the table from Robb; his voice louder enough to hear over the commotion in the hall.
Clarissa sat beside Robb with Greywind laying down beside her feet. "Galbart Glover will lead the Van," Robb informed Lord Umber which didn't sit well with him.
"The bloody Wall will melt before an Umber marches behind a Glover. I will lead the Van or I will take my men and march them home," Lord Umber threatened which made Clarissa roll her eyes.
Robb placed his hands together as he rested his elbows on the table. His eyes narrowed at the Lord of House Umber.
"You are welcome to do so, Lord Umber," Robb spoke before he rose from his seat; "And when I am done with the Lannisters I will march back North, root you out of your Keep and hang you for an oathbreaker."
"Oathbreaker, is it?!" Lord Umber snapped; also rising from his seat and knocking his plate off the table.
The hall grew silent as others also rose from the seats, ready to fight the angry Lord. "I'll not sit here and swallow insults from a boy so green he pisses grass," Lord Umber went to draw his sword which made Theon rise from his seat.
However, Lord Umber was unable to as Greywind had leapt from his spot on the ground, run across the table and jumped onto Lord Umber, forcing him to the ground. Growls and cried of pain echoed through the hall before Greywind finally bit two of Lord Umber's fingers off.
"My Lord father taught me it was death to bare steel against your Liege Lord. But doubtless the Greatjon only meant to cut my meat for me," Robb's voice echoed through the hall as Lord Umber rose from the ground, clutching his bloody hand.
Lord Umber kicked his chair away before speaking; "Your meat."
He went silent for a moment; his eyes moved over those in the hall before continuing; "Is bloody tough."
He let out a deep chuckle as he held up his hand for everyone to see. Robb joined him in laughing and not long after, everyone else was as well. "Men," Clarissa said under her breath as she shook her head; her fingers stroking through Greywind's fur.
They left for the South that night as to not draw attention from the Lannister's spy most likely around Winterfell. If only they knew that they were starting a war.
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