The Young Wolf's Journey Chapter 1: A Game of Shadows (ASOIAF/Game of Thrones) (Patreon)

“You truly mean to do this,” Robb said, fighting the urge to scream in frustration.

“It was my brother who promised to destroy me should I not relinquish my crown come the morning,” Renly Baratheon said lightly while the lady knight Brienne worked at putting on his armor over his tunic. “I’ve never cared for him, true, but I have no wish to spill his blood. But if a man calls himself king, he must be prepared to back his claim with steel. That’s a lesson you would do well to remember.”

Robb did not let the obvious threat rile him. Renly had already made it clear that if Robb did not pay him homage and acknowledge him as his king, the attention of his massive army would turn north eventually. He supposed it was still a more conciliatory offer than that made by Stannis. Renly had said he didn’t care if Robb called himself King in the North so long as he paid homage. Stannis would accept nothing less than him tossing his crown aside and pledging his service to the Night’s Watch.

“We should be working together,” Robb said, forcing himself to remain calm. He was a king, not a child; whining did not suit him. “All of us together would smash the Lannisters with ease. Instead you and your brother prepare to cross steel with each other while that prick Joffrey sits the Iron Throne, Tywin and his twenty thousand men hold Harrenhal, what’s left of the Kingslayer’s army regroups at the Golden Tooth and another host forms out of Casterly Rock. This is folly.”

“Tywin and his twenty thousand, should they ever show their faces, are no match for my army,” Renly said, shrugging. “You’ve seen my numbers. Eighty thousand here with me, ten thousand at Highgarden with my goodfather Mace Tyrell and a formidable garrison at Storm’s End. No force in Westeros can match mine.”

“Aye,” Robb said reluctantly. Some of the Winterfell men liked to say that one Northman was worth ten Souhtron swords, but Robb had seen for himself that Northmen bled just as easily as any other. The Kingslayer hadn’t had any trouble cutting down his share, and if three men of Robb’s personal guard had not laid down their lives for him Robb’s blood may well have joined theirs. His victory in the Whispering Wood had not come without a dose of reality for Robb, and the reality was that the size of his army paled in comparison to Renly’s. They might be boys playing at war currently, but their sheer numbers were such that Robb viewed the prospect of eventually having to fight Renly grimly.

Though they did not say it, he could tell that the small group of men (and one woman, though Dacey Mormont was in no need or protection) he’d brought with him on this attempt to foster an alliance felt the same way. It was hard not to despair when you thought about fighting against such a force, especially with the losses their army had already taken. Renly’s host was unblooded as of yet.

“The Lannisters will have their turn after my brother,” Renly said confidently. “And though it will bring me no joy, so too will you if you do not bend.” He smirked. “But if you’re so concerned about Tywin and his twenty thousand, why do you stand before me here instead of marching on Harrenhal with your army? Would the time to strike not have been soon after your victory?”

“I bow to your superior tactical knowledge,” Robb said tonelessly. In truth he had considered the idea; the men had grown restless in Riverrun. The Blackfish suggested a different strategy than the march on Harrenhal that Lord Tywin was inviting, and Robb was leaving him to it while he came here. “I believed that joining our strength together was the most important step to secure victory, which was why I came to treat with you myself rather than sending my mother or my uncle Brynden as envoy.” For all the good it did me. Instead of marching on King’s Landing and crushing the Lannisters, these two fools are going to spill each other’s blood while Cersei laughs.

“You heard my brother,” Renly said. “This fight is of his choosing, not mine. I will not have men think me afraid of my brother. I will be king, and if he wishes to oppose me, I will strike him down.”

“I did hear him,” Robb said. “I heard what he said about Joffrey’s true parentage. If it’s true, it changes things.” He had been thinking about this often since Stannis had made the claim earlier in the day.

“It’s a rather convenient tale, is it not?” Renly said, chuckling. “Do you believe him?”

“I do,” Robb said, nodding. Stannis’ tale answered too many questions for him to ignore. “The Lannisters tried to kill my younger brother Bran, and I believe this was why. Most of us went on a hunt, but Jaime Lannister remained in Winterfell the day my brother was injured. So did his sister.”

“So your brother caught the Kingslayer plowing Cersei, and attempted to kill him for it,” Renly said, catching on easily. “It’s easy enough to believe. It wouldn’t be the first vow he’s broken, though I’m surprised he would fail to kill a mere boy.” He pulled a gauntlet onto his hand. “But what difference does it make, truly? Do you expect me to accept it as truth and lay down my crown? Do you think the rest of the lords and ladies will accept it as truth? Do you believe that men will love Stannis or want him as their king just because he claims the throne should be his?”

“If it’s true, that doesn’t matter,” Robb said. “The throne is his by rights.”

Renly turned towards him, smiling shrewdly. “Then why are you here with me rather than bending the knee before Stannis? Shouldn’t you be forsaking your crown and pledging the north to Stannis if you truly believe him the rightful king? Would that not be what your honorable father would have done in your position?”

Robb frowned. That exact question had not been far from his mind all day. What would his father have done? Would he have bent the knee and give up the crown his people had put on his head? In all likelihood Lord Eddard would have refused the crown and supported Stannis from the beginning. Perhaps that would have been the better choice for Robb to make. It would certainly make his current situation much easier to navigate. But Robb had accepted the crown, and now he had to decide what to do?

Would he ignore the will of his people and listen to the red priestess at Stannis’ side, who had looked at Robb and told him his place was north? Would he give up his crown and pledge his service to Stannis, even if the man insisted he take it one step further, give up Winterfell itself and swear a vow to the Night’s Watch? Men would think him mad if he did so, and yet he didn’t have a hard time imagining his lord father giving up his title and his life if he believed it was the just thing to do. And he couldn’t get the red woman’s words out of his head. Your place is north. He knew in his bones that she wasn’t talking about Winterfell. Though it was mad, part of Robb wondered if recalling the words had summoned the sudden wind that blew through Renly’s tent.

Renly looked at him expectantly, but before Robb could offer an answer Grey Wind growled from beside him. Robb started in surprise; his companion had been silent and still up until now. Brienne’s hand went to her sword hilt, but Grey Wind wasn’t looking at her or at Renly. He was looking at…a shadow?

--

“That’s it,” Margaery whispered. “That’s it! Good girl.”

Margaery was frustrated that she couldn’t seem to get Renly to bed her, but that was purely because kings and queens needed heirs. She had no particular need of him for actual pleasure; not when she had a handmaiden as sweet and as skilled with her tongue as Mira Forrester.

This was one task that Margaery never forced upon any of her handmaidens; they must be willing to please her of their own choosing. She hadn’t expected Mira to be one of those who made that choice at first, but the northern girl had proven herself to be not just willing but a very fast learner. It hadn’t taken long for her to figure out exactly how best to please Margaery and she showed her skill again now. Her tongue moved up and down along her queen’s outer lips while a finger gently stroked the hood of her clit. That was often a tricky area, in Margaery’s experience; plenty of girls were too eager to please and applied too much pressure, while others were too timid to make it feel good. Mira had found the perfect balance though, and between her tongue and her finger she was giving Margaery more than enough pleasure to be getting on with.

Perhaps her husband’s cock would feel just as good, once she managed to get him to put it inside of her. Margaery would find out one day, as was her duty as wife and queen. For now though, she was quite content to enjoy Mira’s clever tongue.

They stayed quiet, knowing that even if only those she trusted were allowed to guard or enter her room here in the castle at Bitterbridge, making too much noise would just be asking for trouble. She did not expect that Renly would care that she had a handmaiden’s head between her legs. It wasn’t like Mira had a cock with which to plant a bastard in her, and besides, the queen’s own brother kept Renly’s bedroll warm. For all she knew they were together at this very moment, sharing each other’s company in their tent as they dealt with his brother Stannis at Storm’s End. But that didn’t mean that she could afford to be careless and attract the attention of others. No matter how good it felt, Margaery must remain quiet.

Mira didn’t make that easy on her, because she did a truly marvelous job. That was to be expected; she’d chosen the girl to accompany her from Highgarden for a reason. Mira would occasionally draw the pleasure out back home where they had more time, but she understood the need for haste in their current surroundings and adjusted accordingly. Her every lick and rub seemed designed to bring her queen to climax as quickly as possible, and it was working. It wasn’t long before Margaery’s hands grabbed onto her handmaiden’s dark hair, pushing her face more firmly against her cunt as the pleasure took her.

“Yes,” Margaery whispered, closing her eyes and smiling. Even now she kept her voice down, moaning so quietly that she doubted even her cousin Alla could hear them from just outside her door, but that didn’t stop her back from arching off of the bed or her thighs pressing against the sides of Mira’s face as she achieved release. She still needed to get Renly to bed her eventually, but as far as sexual gratification went both king and queen were getting what they needed independent of each other.

“My lady!” Alla shouted, sounding panicked and banging on the door to alert her, thoroughly ruining the moment. “My lady, urgent news!”

Margaery moved quickly, trusting that the normally shy Alla must have something truly important to tell her if she’d interrupted their play and sounded so shaken. She pushed Mira’s head back and motioned for her to get up while she hurriedly pulled her smallclothes and underskirt back on.

“Enter,” she called. Instantly Alla burst into the room, her eyes wide with shock and fear.

“The king has been slain!”

--

Robb was impressed with how composed Queen Margaery had been upon entering the small chamber. Obviously she’d been informed of the situation beforehand, but the news was still very fresh. Still, she’d listened calmly and attentively as Robb recited his version of events to her and the select handful of Tyrell men at Bitterbridge deemed important enough to be present. Lady Brienne had fled, but Robb had remained in the tent and explained what he’d seen to those who entered after the initial two members of Renly’s guard who fought with Brienne. Fleeing would have put the suspicion firmly on him, but by remaining he’d been able to show that he had no weapon anywhere on his person that could have been used to create the grievous wound that had taken Renly’s life. No one, not even Loras in his blind rage, had been able to seriously entertain the idea that Robb had been responsible for Renly’s death though he’d been in the tent when it happened.

That didn’t mean they believed his story though. “A shadow?” one of the Tyrell men scoffed. “Is this another of those northern fables? Did this shadow pass through that giant wall of ice with the grumkins and the snarks?”

“You may believe me or not, as you like,” Robb said, shrugging. “I have no cause to lie on behalf of Brienne of Tarth, who I’d never met until I first came here to Bitterbridge. I am telling you what I saw; nothing more or less. Since it seems you will place the blame on Brienne no matter what I say, I don’t believe there’s much more for us to discuss. I came back here because I wanted Queen Margaery to hear what I saw straight from my own lips. Now I’ve done that, and I really must return to Riverrun. I have my own war to fight, and Tywin Lannister to deal with.”

“Maybe you were in league with the ugly wench,” another Tyrell man suggested. “King Renly would have crushed you soon enough. Your cause is helped with him dead.”

Surprisingly it was Margaery who spoke before Robb could. “Lord Robb—pardon me, King Robb—came to us because he hoped to forge an alliance between his kingdom and ours. My murdered husband was more likely to make peace with him than Stannis is. We all know my husband’s brother and alleged killer to be implacable. Did you yourself not hear Stannis demand that King Robb give up his crown?” The man nodded reluctantly. “Then how would it benefit him to assassinate King Renly and risk the bulk of his men defecting to Stannis?”

The more Queen Margaery talked the more Robb reevaluated his opinion of her. When he’d met her she’d been a perfectly courteous noble lady, welcoming him pleasantly. She’d looked and behaved as Robb imagined a young queen ought to, but he hadn’t thought anything more of her than that.

Now he was seeing that this was a carefully maintained public persona, and that underneath the courteous young lady was a rather shrewd mind. Those men who’d been allowed into this chamber seemed unsurprised, so they must be familiar with this side of her. Robb wondered why she was allowing him to see it. He didn’t know where the Tyrells would go from here with Renly dead, but any who underestimated Margaery would do so at their own peril.

“Well said, my lady,” Robb said, inclining his head towards her slightly. “My lords, I believe you all can see that Stannis is the one with the most to gain from slaying Renly before the battle. Whether you choose to believe Lady Brienne was somehow conspiring with him or you heed my tale about the shadow, however ridiculous it might sound to you, I’d say the result is the same. But how you choose to respond is for you to decide. As for me, I have lingered on this failed attempt at forging an alliance for long enough. I must return to my own battle.” He looked at Margaery again. “If I have your leave?”

She smiled slightly. “You may leave at any time, Your Grace,” she said pleasantly. “But I wonder if perhaps our causes might be more closely aligned than you think.”

“I’m afraid I don’t follow, my lady,” Robb said. “I’m not sure what exactly your cause is now with King Renly killed.”

“My cause is the same as it’s always been,” she said. “All my life, my father has wished for me to become the queen.” She smiled and shrugged. “If I’m being honest, I’ve learned to share in that desire. I don’t believe that my father will give up on his wants even with Renly gone. He’ll still look to make me queen if it’s possible, and he will use the might and resources of Highgarden to make it happen.”

It wasn’t difficult for Robb to understand what she meant. A queen could only be queen if she had a king or an heir, and Margaery currently had neither. Stannis was obviously not an option; he had a wife and queen already. “You mean that he’ll look to wed you to Joffrey,” Robb said.

“It’s the obvious conclusion, yes,” Margaery said. “I need a king if I’m to be queen and give birth to a future ruler with Tyrell blood in his veins. The Lannisters need our support and our food to win this war.”

“He’s betrothed to my sister,” Robb pointed out.

“And a septon will undo that obligation for him quickly enough if asked,” she answered. “It’s easily justifiable to the commonfolk, what with your father’s execution and your rebellion. Yes, I’m sure the possibility of marrying me to Joffrey will come to my father’s mind as soon as he hears of Renly’s death. It will no doubt occur to the Lannisters just as quickly. Of the two men who either sit the Iron Throne or who hope to do so, Joffrey is the only one who is not yet wed. I daresay that his betrothal to your sister would be but a trifling concern, one easily dealt with for the Lannisters to get my family’s aid and for my father to eventually become grandfather to the king.”

Robb should have felt happy about the idea of sweet Sansa not being forced to marry that monster who had killed their father, but even in the unlikely event that the Lannisters simply let her walk away, he could see only the difficulties an alliance between Lannister and Tyrell would give him and the north. It remained to be seen what the various lords Renly had gathered would do or who they would side with, but even a small percentage of them following the Tyrells in aligning with the Lannisters would bode ill for him and for Stannis as well. Robb had come on this journey hoping to make friends or at the very least reach an agreement not to war with Renly and the forces he’d gathered, but it seemed he would leave with new problems and more enemies.

“I see,” Robb muttered. “Do you tell me this as a warning, my lady? A threat of what awaits me if I don’t bend the knee to that prick who executed my father?”

“Not at all!” Margaery gave him a pleasant smile. “I’m simply being honest about my family’s aspirations as well as my own. If I’m to be queen, I need a king.” She leaned forward in her chair and looked at Robb more closely. “And this brings me back to my earlier remark, about how our causes might be more closely aligned than you believed. Or how either of us believed, for that matter. I want to be queen, and I find myself in sudden need of a king. You want to defeat the Lannisters, rescue your sisters and find justice for your father, and you do so with a crown on your head. A king needs a queen.”

“You want to be my queen?” he said, stunned. “But why?”

“Why not?” she said, smiling. “Everything I’ve heard about Cersei Lannister suggests to me that she’s gotten quite used to being the most powerful woman in Westeros and won’t give that power up easily, and everyone knows the Lannisters are notoriously ruthless. I’ll put up with her if I must, but it seems to me that being queen might be easier if I don’t have to constantly worry about a knife in my back from my own goodmother. I don’t know the Northmen as well, but the Starks are notorious for their honor.”

“Until Lord Eddard turned traitor,” one of the men grumbled. Robb scowled, but Margaery again spoke before he could.

“Lord Eddard is only a traitor if you believe the words of the Lannisters,” she said smoothly. “Renly didn’t; he believed that King Robert had been slain. So do I.” That seemed to be the end of that objection, and Robb relaxed in his seat again. “If Cersei was willing to kill her own husband, she would surely have no problem killing her gooddaughter as well. It seems to me that we both stand something to gain from this. You get my family’s full support, and I get a king and a family who hopefully won’t try to betray me and murder me.”

“I am promised to wed one of Walder Frey’s daughters,” Robb told her. He was loath to do so, because the arrangement she suggested could have been an incredibly useful one.

“A king married to a Frey?” one of the men whispered, not quietly enough.

“I needed to cross the Twins quickly to defeat the Kingslayer,” Robb said, defending the reason behind the betrothal his mother had negotiated. It was admittedly a high price to pay, but without her having made that promise he might very well already be dead at the hands of the Kingslayer or Tywin’s forces.

“If you marry me and we win this war, I do believe we could assuage Lord Frey’s ego easily enough,” Margaery said, shrugging. “We can offer him plenty of wealth, and a marriage to one of my Tyrell cousins. If need be you could always wed this daughter of his to your younger brother who will be Lord of Winterfell.”

“Lord of Winterfell?” Robb repeated, frowning. “I’m Lord of Winterfell as well as King in the North. He can’t marry into either title if I marry you.”

Here Margaery’s smile dipped. “I’m afraid that won’t be good enough for my father, Your Grace,” she said. “Nor for me. I don’t want to be a queen; I want to be the queen. I believe I can get Loras to support me in this, and he in turn can convince our father that you’re a better, safer option than the Lannisters. But if you wish to have my family’s support, you need to be willing to be king of not just the north but of all Westeros. Your brother can become Lord of Winterfell and continue your family’s ancient seat; much like Renly took Storm’s End when Robert became king. But it’s the Iron Throne my family wants.”

Robb stared down at the table beneath him as if the answers to all of his problems were written across the wood. What was he to do? Margaery was probably right about Lord Frey being appeased easily enough between he and the Tyrells, but that was the least of his problems. What would his father say if he was asked to forsake his promise of betrothal? Lord Eddard had stepped into marry Robb’s mother after his brother Brandon was killed in King’s Landing. Robb couldn’t imagine him breaking a vow like that.

But then again, hadn’t his father broken his vows in a different way when he fathered Robb’s half-brother Jon? And if Robb broke his betrothal to marry a woman who increased his chances of winning the war, keeping his people and rescuing his sisters, wouldn’t that be an honorable decision in its own way?

The thought of giving up Winterfell to be the king on the Iron Throne filled him with unease too. He’d never wanted that throne made of swords. It wasn’t even being King in the North that he was attached to It was being Lord of Winterfell that he’d prepared himself for and desired for his whole life. Giving that up and never being able to call Winterfell his home again wasn’t exactly a happy one, and that he would do so in order to live in the same pit of schemers where his father had been killed didn’t make him feel any better about it.

But could he afford to say no? Regardless of how he might feel about King’s Landing, and despite the ominous words of Stannis’ priestess about him belonging in the north, this felt like the best chance he would ever have to make an alliance that might mean the difference in winning this war. Was that not worth the cost?

“This is a large decision you’ve put in front of me,” he finally said, breaking the silence.

“I know it is,” she said, not unkindly. “And I understand that you might want some time to consider it. But I’m sure I don’t need to tell you that time is one thing we’re all in short supply of. Everyone will start to move as soon as they hear what’s happened to Renly. They’ll all try to figure out what this means for them and how they might use it to their advantage, and if we aren’t making our own preparations we will fall behind. I need to go find Loras and hope he’s gotten through enough of his grief and his rage for us to prepare our own move, whatever it might be. But first I need to know where you stand, my king, and whether we’ll be pushing father to accept a betrothal and a quick wedding with you, or if we need to wait for the Lannisters to come to us as they almost surely will if they have any sense.”

“You’re surprisingly direct, you know,” Robb said, partially to give himself at least a moment more to think before giving his answer.

Margaery laughed. “Not many outside my own family would say so. I likely wouldn’t have been so blunt and open with you if Northerners weren’t known for their straightforwardness. And even then, I likely would have spent more time studying you before I approached you so openly. But as I’ve said, I don’t have time.”

“No, I suppose you don’t,” Robb said. “And neither do I. You’re right. The war will go on, even with King Renly dead. And we have to go on with it.”

Robb had come here in person hoping to negotiate a peace that would help him crush the Lannisters and win this war, but nothing had gone according to plan. There were many options to consider, and all of them would change the course of the war for him, his kingdom and his family. He wished he could spend more time considering every option, and perhaps consult his advisors.

There wasn’t time for that though. He either needed to refuse, pursue a different course of action and resign himself to the likelihood that the Tyrells would join the Lannisters, or he needed to wed Renly’s widow and shift his goal to not just freeing his sisters and assuring northern independence but claiming the Iron Throne.

Whatever he did, he needed to do it now.

Here’s the opening chapter of the fic you guys voted for. Hope you liked it and are interested in seeing where we go from here!

As you might have gotten a feel for here, this will probably wind up being a bit of a blend between book and show canon (and even game canon; hello Mira!) The plot here was more in line with the book, and yet Margaery’s personality far more resembled her TV self. Plus certain characters (like Robb and Margaery) will have to be aged up compared to the books, for obvious reasons. Do feel free to point out anything that feels wrong or inconsistent though!

While it’s geared to be Robb-centric, we’ll keep our options open as far as seeing what other characters are up to as well. It should allow us to adjust our focus as plot demands, and also to sneak some more smut in amongst the plot without Robb necessarily screwing everything that moves! We got a taste of that in this chapter with Margaery and Mira.

I’m probably going to do something a bit different with this story and actually share the poll options I have in mind late in the month, in order to allow people to leave feedback and suggest potential other options to be included or directions the story could go before the poll goes up on the 1st of the following month. What actually makes it into the polls would still be decided by me, but I’d always be interested in suggestions for it. That said, by all means you can give whatever feedback you want right now too!