bakerstreet | otherwordly.

[ooc: I have two, if you are interested?]

One or Two

[ OOC: Sure! I'm a fan of number one. If this doesn't work or there was a particular sort of scene you were after, let me know and I can try something else.]

[ The war went on for far, far too long. Or at least it felt that way to Robb. He'd marched off, trying to become his father in some ways, trying to save his father and then his sisters and it had all turned to something long and drawn out and horrific. Like some sort of living nightmare, where he kept telling himself to be strong. To be the king that his bannermen wanted him to be, to be the lord that his father would have wanted. It's never easy, but it does get easier by degrees, until finally it all finally ends and he has what he wanted (or part of it anyway). He's in King's Landing, Sansa is safe (even if she has a haunted, distant look and she is far quieter then he remembers), and the war is all but over.

He doesn't want the Iron Throne, of course. He just wants to go north again, to have what's left of his family home and safe, so he can try to put the pieces back together and get back to wrapping his head around being king of some sort of realm. He supposes it's not much difference from being a lord, you've just got so much more to do. Before he and his army of battered Northmen and Riverlords leave, there's still work to be done in King's Landing. And in particular, he has someone he needs to speak to.

He meets her in one of the gardens, feeling awkwardly out of place in the drab, purposeful clothing amongst flowers and greenery. Robb can't let that show, even if he does tend to fidget just a touch. ]

Lady Tyrell.

[ That seems the safest way to address her; Robb doesn't know her, after all, but Sansa had spoken highly of her - of the whole family, really. So he felt that he owed them (and most of all her) something. ]

I... simply wanted to extend my thanks. My sister has spoken to me very highly of you and your friendship.

[ He feels slightly out of place and she looks as if she belongs. Definitely not the place for a Northern lord. ]

[ooc: This is great! Let me know if this is okay as well.]

[The war hadn't been a lost cause until Joffery's death. Until that time, the Tyrells had faithfully kept their alliance with the Lannisters, providing soldiers and supplies to the hungry populace and troops. It was less a war waged by the lions, but at the feet of the roses. All of it with the guarantee that Margaery would wed the King and her children would someday follow after him.

Then Sansa told Lady Olenna the stories about Joffery. It hadn't been a shock to Margaery, as she had long ago prepared herself for the worse eventuality. She had at least known Renly, but with Joffery, there had been only rumors, rumors that couldn't be dismissed. It was that particular moment, when Sansa had related all he had done in a tearful voice that swayed the tide of war.

Shortly after, Joffery was poisoned at his wedding feast and the Tyrells were opening the gates to the Stark and Tully bannermen. It was a scene reminiscent of Robert's Rebellion, complete with a Kingslayer, though none could be certain who it was behind the act. Tyrion Lannister disappeared and Cersei had fought tooth and claw until she was finally dragged to prison.

That only left the Tyrells to deal with, the turncloaks and the fair weather ally to the Lannisters.

It was with a measure of relief that they had not been imprisoned alongside the former royal family. Sansa had even spoken kindly about Margaery. All of this was later reported to her by her ladies in waiting and her cousins. Until she was actually summoned, she would withhold her judgement and hope. To occupy herself, Margaery doubled the efforts she made on the behalf of the poor and those orphaned, even visiting the soldiers that had been wounded on both sides, much to Loras' frustration.

It wasn't until she was informed that the King of the North wanted to speak to her that she even remembered the Young Wolf.

She took the time to dress and ready herself, mentally preparing what she would say and ask on behalf of her family. Somehow, she felt calm, as though he were not the conqueror recently come to the city. This was her home and he was a stranger in it. With ease, she curtsied and showed him the proper respect.]

Your grace. [The words were a surprise, but a welcome one. The subject of Sansa was both pleasant and easy.] Lady Sansa is very kind. I should not have managed so well in this place without her presence and friendship.

[ OOC: Looks fab! ]

[ What else was he going to say, now that he was looking at her? Despite what Sansa had told him, there were others urging him to enact vengeance on the Tyrells for their support of the Lannisters. How he was meant to do that when their lands were untouched and his army was a long, long way from home was unsaid, of course. So Robb kept his own council; he'd leave them be. Let them put someone on the throne, if they wanted. The only claimant left now was Stannis and as far as Robb was concerned, he was welcome to it.

Robb clasps his hands at the small of his back for a lack of anything else to do with them. Learning how to act and move like a king took almost as much work as actually being one. He still felt like a callow youth and he was sure that everyone around him could see that and hear it in his voice. ]

So she tells me. From what little I've been told, it was... not a pleasant court to be present in.

[ Or he can guess. She didn't need Sansa's help; not really. But anyone who helped his sister deserved thanks, regardless of whether it was out of altruism or not. He searches for a thread of conversation and finds one, even if it isn't the most politically sensitive. ]

I understand that you and Joffrey were wed, however shortly. That would make you... Queen. [ His death at the feast meant that she was a widow. He's not entirely sure on the legality of the rest of it. ]

Your family has assured me that they do not intend to continue the war on the Lannister's behalf. And... I would like to know what you intend to do.

[ Well, he's blundered straight into politics. Could be worse. ]

[She understood the game and how to play it, well enough that she had managed to survive Joffery with only minor injuries to show. Cersei had been relentless, searching for any excuse or means to remove the Tyrells from the capital. That stupidity and Sansa's willingness to find some measure of support and protection had allowed Margaery the opportunity to befriend the girl.

Though she could not admit that it was for politics alone. Sansa was kind and eager for warmth. Her genuine sweetness had been a welcome relief among a court full of liars. Beside the young Stark girl, Margaery was relieved for a time of playing the game of thrones. She could simply enjoy her afternoon and the gardens with a friend.

Whether or not Robb believed that, she wasn't certain. He seemed more savvy than his sister, aware enough that not everyone was what they appeared. He was uncertain of his abilities and title, it was obvious from the way he shifted and fidgeted. Yet he was earnest and open, without the pretense that so many others possessed. That he would even approach the subject so bluntly spared Margaery from dancing around the cold facts. He didn't require the same level of trepidation that Joffery had.]

It wasn't pleasant, and sadly, that hostility and cruelty was extended to all of the city. I only hope that this recent chaos may change things for the better. This is a beautiful city, it deserves a better protector and King.

[He might see it as false flattery, but it was true. Stannis would be no better than Robert or Joffery. He had the arrogance and, of late, fanaticism that could lead to upheaval and fear. How was that any better than the sort of realm that Joffery had created?]

Am I Queen? Was Joffery the true King in your eyes or was he an unruly claimant? How can I be Queen if he was not King? [She was teasing him now, smiling slyly at the questions.]

I intend to abide by my family's oath. Whomever is named King, I shall beseech him to allow me to remain at court, if only so that I might continue my charities and see to the well being of the city.

[ He's like his father: he's never had much use for politics. Never really had to think about them and now it's all he has to consider, even if he does have the loyalty of men who loved his father and now profess to love him. It's still different, still strange, and he feels as if every day someone is going to realize that he's just pretending at being king and it will all come tumbling down around him. Someone like Margaery Tyrell. He may not be good at this game, but he can tell that she's good at playing it. She fits right in at this southern court. ]

We agree on that, at least. Joffery was-

[ He pauses and thinks better of his choice of words. Instead he simply shakes his head and moves on, trying to thread his way through the conversation without losing track or putting his foot in his mouth. ]

True king? I don't know and I don't really care - with all due respect, my lady. He stopped being my king when he put my father's head on a pike and took my sisters hostage. Whether anyone else wants to consider him to have been their king is no business of mine.

[ Blunt and to the point. He should try to stop being quite so hard-edged. He takes a slow breath and tries to let himself soften up, if only by degrees. ]

From what my sister has told me, perhaps the city could use some one like you. Especially after everything that's happened. [ He hesitates, eyeing her. How does he gauge this? She's a beautiful young woman, a exemplar of what it means to be a lady. At least down here. ]

I - we - don't intend to stay for very long. My sister would like to be home and so would I.

[Joffery had been her husband. However much of monster he was, she had always born a peculiar loyalty to the men that she had married. She had kept Renly's secret and defended him from any that might wish to pry or deduce the nature of their marriage. Joffery, no matter how much she detested him, she had tried to make better and kinder. She hadn't succeeded, but she had been prepared to be a loyal wife.

Yet loyalty didn't exist for the dead and whatever her thoughts and feelings, they no longer needed to be suppressed. Which was why she nodded in acknowledgement to Robb Stark's assessment.]

He was...and more.

[His blunt questions and sharp manners contrasted drastically to the world she had known. The only Northerners she had ever met were Catelyn Stark and Sansa. Both women, however, had temperaments better suited to the South. There was no mistaking that Robb was a true Northerner. Her flattery and flirtation would do little good. Brutal honesty had to be met with brutal honesty, no matter the risk to her safety.]

You made it your business when you marched into the capital with your soldiers and bannermen. You were prepared to kill Joffery, had he not died at our wedding. By disavowing him and removing your loyalty, you made the public statement that he was not your King and expected your men to follow you.

[She nodded, having expected this response.]

It seems unwise for you to leave and, if you will allow me, a poor decision for the people.

[ Robb's a bit shocked, honestly. He believed that she was made of sterner stuff, but her response was unexpected. He reigns himself in with effort, shoulders and back straightening as he turns on her, hands falling to his sides. What she says does make sense, but it's not what he wants to hear and it's certainly not what he wants to do. He doesn't have to listen to her; he knows that. He doesn't have to argue. He does it anyway. ]

And what would you have me do? Stay here? Set myself on the Iron Throne and start another line of kings? Starks are northerners. It's in our blood and in our bones. I cannot - I won't - rule from King's Landing.

[ But if he leaves, it will mean that the smallfolk suffer for it, if only because it will take time for those claimants still alive to jockey for position and move in. Without a central authority, things will be... fluid. Which is a polite term for messy. ]

This is not my land. These are not my people.

[That he reacted at all was promising. If he didn't care about the matter, he wouldn't fight in this way. He would dismiss her or walk away. Instead, he argued, as though he were trying to convince himself.]

You removed the Lannisters from power. You ousted a king and now intend to leave without any thought or regard as to who will rule after? That creates chaos and fear for the people, it opens the door for someone to seize the throne that might create further discord! What then would that mean for your people? Whomever claims the crown would not risk the same fate as the Lannisters. They would seek to remove the threat of you.

[If he thought that he could simply walk away and return to his home as though nothing had happened, it was a fantasy. She knew Northerners had no use for the game of thrones, but he didn't have that luxury anymore.]

You are not a private person and you cannot make decisions for yourself alone. There are people in this city, good people, who did their duty and were loyal to the crown. Whether they were right or wrong, they are innocent of Joffery's actions. If you leave, then you leave them to further suffering. They have lost their homes, their husbands and fathers, their brothers, and their livelihood. How can you leave this city without at least ensuring their safety and well being?

Whether or not you view yourself as having the right to the throne, you have conquered it.

[ Robb dislikes that he reacts at all, but a part of him sees the truth in her words. He bites back a hasty retort and turns away, pacing away and then turning back. He should not be allowing himself to be riled over this. He should be able to dismiss all of this, wave his hand, and lead his men north. The Riverlords will follow him, but he is sure that many, many southerners will not. He gestures of an open hand, sweeping it to indicate the city that surrounds them. This is not his. None of this is his and he wants none of it. ]

I did not want to conquer it! I want nothing from this city or the throne in the keep!

[ Now he has emotion. Not quite ice water in his veins, for all the stories that people tell about the Young Wolf. His jaw works and he urges himself to have more control. He can see himself through this. He knows that he can. ]

This is not my city. You are telling me that I should take the Iron Throne, put the crown of the Seven Kingdoms on my head and... what? Rule? Here? Surrounded by the same court that killed my father?

[ He does not play the game well. And he knows it. ]

I would sooner hand it to Stannis! Or anyone else! Even another Lannister if it meant I could wash my hands of this!

You didn't want to, but you raised your banners. You marched your men south and you waged a war against the crown. What did you think would come of all of this? Did you even consider the lives that you would upend?

[She was toeing the line, if not well passed it, but it was clear that he recognized her point. As he paces, her eyes lock onto his form, watching as he struggles with his emotions. There was conflict in him, he didn't hide it very well, if he was trying to at all.]

I am telling you to consider at least concerning yourself with the well being of the people of this city. Whatever you feel about the court, there are citizens outside of this keep that are only trying to survive. If you hand the realm over to Stannis, many of them will die, sacrificed to the Red Woman's god.

At least walk through the streets with me and see what I have seen daily. All I ask is that you see first hand what this war has brought and then decide if you can just leave them.

[ Robb is not all that good at controlling himself sometimes. This is one of those times, unfortunately for him. He should not be letting himself be lectured like this or led around by the nose, but here he is. She's appealing to the part of him that believes in a duty toward the people he's supposed to be protecting. Even if these people aren't necessarily quite in that category, going by technicalities. ]

I thought that I would free my sisters and see recompense for my dead father. This I have done. I have always said that I do not want the Iron Throne or this city. It has caused my family far too much grief.

[ His uncle, his aunt, his father. How many more lives will it consume? If he stays here will he ever see Winterfell again? ]

But. I am not going to abandon the smallfolk here to ruin and bandits. I'll make sure there's something here for them before I leave. I'll promise you that much. But that's all I can promise.

[It was something. Perhaps not the something that she had wanted, but it was something. She would at least sleep more peacefully knowing that there might be at least some measure of security.

But now that the matter was at least settled, she wasn't certain what else she should say to him. She had lectured him, berated him as though he were a child. For a moment, she had treated him as something other than a King. Were he another man, it would have been dangerous to risk his temper. Thankfully, he hadn't lashed out or retaliated.]

I apologize if I have given offense. [She lowered her head, offering a sign of submission, returning to her earlier innocent guise.] These are matters that touch me very deeply.

You've spent a lot of time telling me what I ought to do.

[ He's not quite sure where to go from here. He's still reeling a bit; Margaery Tyrell was certainly a handful. He stares at her for a moment and then lets the tension out in a long breath. ]

Which makes you no different from half the people who talk to me everyday.

[ He'll swallow his pride. It doesn't do him any good to get into a pissing match with her. He might win, but it wouldn't really end up getting him anywhere. ]

But I'm curious as to what you want out of all of this. Aside from having leave to remain in King's Landing. [ There's got to be more to this than charity. There always is. ]

I only meant well, your grace.

[Which didn't excuse her actions or make the matter any less dangerous. Were he Joffery, the result would have been greatly different.]

I imagine you will have a great deal more of that. At least until you reach a certain age. A young King always seems to attract advice, some well intentioned, others not.

[It was almost a shame that she couldn't see how his rule would progress and change. Here was a man that never would have been king, had certain circumstances not fallen into place. Now he had to quickly learn how to perform the role.

Surprisingly, she felt concern for him and what he faced.

His question, however, was expected. The answer, however, was not an easy one. She had gone from being queen to two different men, now she was nothing. Where did she go from here?]

Is there anything beyond my family's well being? It might shock you, but my motives are no different than your own. I want to see my family survive.

That's what everyone always tells me.

[ Robb sounds slightly amused, although it's tinged by a hint of wry regret. ]

That they only mean well when they tell me what I ought to be doing.

[ That's a bit dangerous to admit to a woman he's only just met, but she's already berated him. How much more embarrassing could this possibly get? In theory, she was a friend of his sister's, anyway. If anyone in this court could possibly be called a "friend" of anyone in his family. He's fairly certain that all the bowing and scraping that happens quickly vanishes as soon as he's around the corner.

Her reply does earn her a slightly surprised and appraising look. He's still not good at politics, although he's got a good idea of people (or so he thinks). Better than some, worse than others. ]

I don't intend on harming your family, if that's what you're worried about.

[ His eyes search her expression for something. A sign that she might be lying, that there's more to this then the seemingly simple goal of ensuring her family survives. She's a daughter of a great house. There has to be more. ]

Is that really all you want? Forgive me, but that seems entirely too simple.

There is no obligation for you to listen or accept what is being said. That you do shows that you wish to be fair and learn.

[He could be wise...or tolerant, depending on which way his mood would take him. It was a better response than what she could expect.

That he doesn't fully believe her only enforces her belief that he could be wise. He's right. There's ambition in her that burns hotly and fiercely, ambition that has yet to be fully satisfied. She wanted to be the Queen, not to simply taste it for a moment before it was taken away.

At the root of it, however, there is the less complex answer. It wasn't for herself alone (however much others might think so), it was for her family.]

I know you won't harm my family, but whomever ascends the iron throne might. We sided with your cause. We could be a threat to their safety...in their eyes at least.

[She could only rely on her allures for so long. If it was Stannis that became King, she would have no guarantee and no avenue to help her house. It would be entirely dependent on whether his honor would allow them to live or the Red Woman's "god."]

Familial loyalty and concern does not end in the North, your grace. I need to first consider their safety before I can begin thinking about what it is I want...if I even have that luxury.

I am a widow to two kings. I somehow doubt there will be much for me beyond the "simple" things.

[ That seems to be Robb in a nutshell: if given a chance, he might actually make a decent king. But he has to get that chance first and he has to grasp it before it's taken away from him, either through his own faults or someone's conniving. His blind spots don't help nor does his dogged determination to try and live up to an ideal that probably never existed. He stands in the shadow of his father and he wants to be out from under it. ]

A widow with no children. I'm not sure how many people are going to consider you a threat when there aren't any heirs.

[ Which is perhaps not entirely fair to her, but it is certainly a point of view that's been discussed with him. Margaery Tyrell either didn't bed her first husband or they couldn't conceive and her second - well. That had been over in a matter of hours. No time for making any potential heirs.

Robb is being blunt again. ]

Forgive me for saying so, but some of the more superstitious might think you cursed. or at least that your husbands were.

[ It's another bit of wry observation. Not that he pays into that sort of thing himself. To him, it's just terrible luck. Or good, depending on how fond you were of Joffrey. ]

But you're right. We don't have the luxury of thinking about what we want. Family and duty come first. Isn't that how it's always been? [ It's what he's done, at least so far. Followed duty and family south, to this city. ]

What does your duty tell you to do now? If you will indulge my curiosity.

[He needed someone strong at his side, someone who knew that world and could spy the dangers before they presented themselves. She didn't doubt that Sansa was capable, but her education had been short. Before then, she was raised in innocence in the North. One could hope that Robb would find a wife capable, but there were so few and he didn't seem to trust anyone from King's Landing.

He was at a disadvantage.

Yet he managed to strike a nerve not once, but twice. Both statements were sore subjects, especially the matter of her incapability of keeping a husband. It would not bode well for her future.]

A widow with no children who seems to leave nothing but dead husbands. I may not be a threat, but I am hardly desirable.

[She lowers her head, giving her frustration some freedom on her features. Whether or not he could see it, she didn't care.

It seemed, in a moment of pettiness, that this was his revenge for her earlier lecture.]

I don't know, your grace. I have not thought beyond today or tomorrow. My long term plans seem to have a habit of crumbling before I have the chance to achieve them.

What does your sense of duty tell you to do now?

[ Robb has an army of Northerners that are going to want to go home soon, the Riverlords, who will want to also go home at some point, and (in theory), the Eyrie. If they ever responded and if Littlefinger could actually be trusted. Something that Robb very much doubted. Trusting Littlefinger was what had landed his father in deep, deep trouble. What he doesn't have is any sort of support base in King's Landing or the lands surrounding it.

And that makes life difficult, if he intends to stay here for any length of time. So striking back with a few harsh words seems to be the extent of what he can do, especially when she's seemingly put him in a very precarious position. ]

As I was very recently reminded, I do have duty beyond what I would like. I'm going to make sure that this city is safe enough for the people who live here. I am going to try and put an end to the banditry. And I will try to ensure that this city does fall apart. But I also would like to go home.

[ He grits his teeth. This conversation has become deeply uncomfortable. ]
But apparently, I need to make sure the southern lords don't fall apart or that more blood is spilled. So it seems I will have to stay here for a while yet and figure out how to make them respect me. Or at least not want to murder me in my bed.

[ He feels... lost. He does not want to be king. He does not want to rule the Seven Kingdoms. He has Winterfell in the north. But he also cannot find it in himself to turn away from all of this, not when it might mean that he would simply be dragged down here again in a few years time - or worse, forced to fend off an invasion. ]

[She's grateful that he listened to her, enough that he has changed his current plans to overseeing the stability of the city, as well as considering a basis of safety for himself. This wasn't something he could walk away from and he seemed to understand that now, even if it cost her his good will.

It didn't change, however, that he needed someone at his side who could help him. She had managed to sway his mind from disaster, but who would manage the next time and the time after that?

His mother and sister could only do so much and eventually, he would need to consider other means of alliances.]

You need to join with a southern house. If their interests become your own, then you have someone to help shield you from possible invasions or further discords. They could act as your wardens to the south.

[She's not certain how welcome her advice is at this point, but she'll give it anyway.]

You should consider marrying a member of your house to someone in the south.

My sister... is unlikely to want to marry anyone. My brother Bran-

[ Well. No one is going to want to marry their daughter to him. No one important, anyway. Even if he is the brother of a king. That leaves Rickon, although he's certain he'll want nothing to do with it. Can he really force him into this? For the sake of stability? His jaw works again and he's back to pacing, thinking, fingers drumming against the side of his leg as he considers his options.

Robb is also acutely aware that Margaery is still there, still watching, and will likely report all of this back to her family. Fine. Let them know about him and his indecision. It can't hurt him any worse. He pauses as a thought strikes him.

He is technically promised to a Frey. But even Walder Frey won't cross the Starks and the Tullys, not without someone to back him. He pauses and looks at Margaery and there is something very knowing in his gaze. His voice is a touch cool, as if he's probing her, trying to feel out a reaction. ]

Since you've already suggest so much, I don't suppose you have another suggestion on who might be willing to marry into my family?

Someday she will.

[No matter her trauma or fear, Sansa would come to want love. Her interactions with the young girl gave her evidence enough of that. Were Loras not a member of the King's guard (even without a current King), she would offer him as a possible candidate. There was Willas, but it was the same sort of life that Bran might offer a woman.

There was another option, but she was loathe to be the one to suggest it. She had pressed her luck too much already. She'd shown herself to be capable of more than passive innocence. She was capable of playing the game and she doubted he would ever fully trust her. Suggesting this particular candidate would show her completely to be a schemer and it seemed that Northern sensibilities were offended by such things, no matter how helpful it could be.

He was indecisive, that was clear, but she knew he wasn't stupid. His mind was working towards the answer, but he wanted to hear her say it. He either wanted her to be the one that pushed the probable match or he wanted to catch her in her scheming. She wasn't about to fall into a trap.]

I cannot speak on behalf of anyone but myself.

[ Of course. Robb makes a noise that's somewhere between an amused snort and a sigh. He's not sure which he should be: angry, despondent, or just amused. Maybe he should laugh at the strange tale his life has turned into. It would probably help about as much as anything else. He settles himself, finally stopping his pacing (although he's still not sure what he ought to do with his hands; that's always been a problem). ]

Of course you can't.

[ She plays the game far too well. he's not sure who else there is. Baratheon doesn't really have anyone available. He's already allied (technically) to House Arryn. He knows nothing of the Martell's, aside from what his education has told him (which is relatively little). He runs through the options one by one. If this the conclusion she wants him to draw, he's getting there on his own. ]

You would be willing to take a third husband?

[ He sounds sardonic. Perhaps a touch bitter. He despises this game, after all. ]

[It wasn't exactly what she imagined or aimed for when she accepted his summons. Her main concern had been the safety of the people and the survival of her house. She had accomplished that, but knew there was only one way to seal such promises.

The same way all promises were sealed in Westeros.

He isn't entirely enthused, nor is she, if she must be honest. She's suffered through one marriage with nothing but mistrust as an inevitable bedfellow. She had been forced to navigate through Cersei's hostility and Joffery's brutality. While Robb Stark wasn't that man, it didn't mean that he would be any more affectionate.

She told Sansa once that she could put up with a great deal, so long as she had a son and knew he would rule after. It was just as true now as it was then. Whatever Robb might think or feel, so long as she had a son, she could weather through all of it.]

If the gods will it to be so, I would.

[She didn't expect or intentionally seek this out, but it wasn't the will of the gods that delivered this opportunity. It was necessity.]

If it means the safety of my family and the city, I would wed again.

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