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54.16% A Song of Ice and Fire. The Winter Wolf. / Chapter 13: Chapter 13 Robb, Jeyne, Daenrys

章 13: Chapter 13 Robb, Jeyne, Daenrys

Robb

Robb looked around the room. The walls were of stone, the floor of polished stone, new curtains, and it was well lit by torches. The place was the room of a nobleman, and the cleanliness was not lacking, everything was impeccable. Even so, a rotten smell filled the entire place.

In front of Robb was the reason for that smell, his own grandfather. Robb had already heard many descriptions of the smell of death, and without a doubt it was this, but with his new knowledge and perspective on life, this to him, was nothing more than a rotten smell, a symptom of some serious infection or illness.

An illness that his own grandfather suffered from, who was delirious in front of him, lying in his bed, dying between hallucinations and terrible pain. Robb didn't know what kind of illness he was suffering from, he wasn't a doctor in his first life. If he had to bet, he would say cancer, but it could still be an ulcer, an infection, or something he couldn't even imagine, he truly had no idea about it. In this world, a simple flu could give you great chances of going to live in the next world.

"Robb…" Robb looked at his uncle to indicate that his advice had already been listened to, and nothing more was needed.

Robb had already taken his mother out, being as kind as possible, and the maester, without much care, because he insisted on knowing what he was going to do, and Robb didn't have time to explain anything to him, one delay, and his grandfather would die. It wasn't like he could explain what he was about to do either.

Robb looked at his uncle as he took out a small bottle with the preparation he had made before, just a few drops. His uncle gritted his teeth, but together with Gray Wind, he went to guard the door. Robb took out some powders prepared by him under the instructions of the three-eyed crow, and marked his grandfather's body, following the crow's instructions, on his shoulder.

After about five minutes, he poured the few drops of the grayish liquid into the mouth of his dying and hallucinating grandfather, who kept calling for his daughters. Apparently Edmure was not very appreciated by him, but Robb understood that such an idiot was a disappointment to his father…

When the drops touched his grandfather's mouth, his convulsing body stopped, taking on the stiffness and paleness of a corpse, which made Robb grit his teeth for a couple of seconds, but then, his grandfather breathed again, and opened his mouth. The eyes.

Eyes filled with concentration, knowledge and awareness of what had happened. His skeletal body sat up and looked at the marks Robb had made. He grimaced at himself.

"Lysa?" was the first thing Hoster Tully asked.

"she has conspired with Baelish to assassinate Jon Arryn. Now that I have killed Baelish, she has gone completely mad, and she has confessed to her crimes. The lords of the Vale have locked her up, I have sent them a letter warning them to keep their mouths shut, and I have already explained this matter to the king, appealing to my merits to obtain a pardon.

"Stannis has gnashed his teeth for half the night, but has agreed that she be returned to Riverrun, like Lysa Tully, to live out the rest of her life, unmentioned among the nobility," Robb explained without hiding anything from her.

"My girl!" Hoster Tully cried with regret and regret, as a tear fell from his left eye, but then he gritted his teeth, and looked at the raven on his shoulders.

"Is this what has given us victory in this war?" He asked. Robb shook his head.

"It is my magic, the magic of winter, that has given us victory. "Blood magic requires great sacrifices, and my lords would not approve," Robb explained. His grandfather breathed a sigh of relief.

"You did well in getting Cat out. Now, leave me alone. I'll be out in a moment," ordered Hoster Tully. Robb nodded and turned away.

"Robb, wait," he said, and Robb halted before opening the door but didn't turn around.

"Who…" he asked hesitantly, unable to complete his words.

"The Mountain and his men, they're now just empty shells," said Robb. His grandfather grinned wryly. Robb left the room.

Outside, his personal guard, Grey Wind, his uncle Brynden, his mother, and the maester attending his grandfather were waiting.

"The medicine worked. Now, rest. He'll be out in a while," said Robb. His mother and the maester looked at him incredulously. His uncle Brynden appeared somewhat horrified but more relieved than frightened.

"Mother, my grandfather needs to rest for at least half the afternoon before coming out. But don't worry; he'll be fine. Now, come with me; I want to see the books you've written," said Robb.

His mother seemed unwilling, but Uncle Brynden stood in front of the door, giving a look that made it clear neither she nor the maester would enter. His mother glanced at both with reproach, then reluctantly nodded and led the way.

Robb followed her to a closed workshop guarded by five men. His mother took out a key and opened it for him.

The workshop was the same where she had written the previous books, but it was empty, except for a large safe surrounded by chains and locks.

"I burned everything as you instructed, down to the last quill!" his mother reproached while handing him three keys.

Robb proceeded to open the safe and retrieve three beautiful books with illustrations and his mother's exquisite handwriting.

"Mother, after my wedding, you can return to Winterfell. Maester Luwin can't do much to control Rickon anymore, and Bran keeps getting into mischief," said Robb with a sigh. His mother smiled.

"Arya and Sansa seem to be behaving well. In their letters, I haven't seen any accusations. It seems they learned to get along in King's Landing," said his mother with a sigh and a big smile. The recovery of their father had made her happy. Besides, today was Robb's wedding.

Robb had just arrived, but he couldn't stay for more than three days. He had to hurry to join his troops on their way to King's Landing, where they would celebrate the victory.

Robb nodded to his mother, pretending to read the books. His mother still didn't know that he had sent his sisters with a Targaryen across the sea. In a few months, when she returned to Winterfell, she would learn many things, but Robb would be far away, and perhaps he wouldn't return for about three years to Winterfell. Therefore, for now, he was avoiding complications. His mother also couldn't use magic, so she couldn't send him messages via raven. It was a flawless plan.

"I'm glad Bran has been able to overcome his condition," his mother said with a smile.

Robb nodded again, not telling her that his son had become a magical internet troll, using it to do nonsense and listen to gossip from the entire kingdom.

"Mother, I'll deliver these books to King Stannis, but if something happens to me, the copy I sent to Braavos will serve. They have instructions to give you a copy, which you must take to Jon. I've already left someone in charge of explaining what he needs to do," explained Robb. "Mother, you mustn't hesitate; this is crucial for the survival of the North. Without implementing the things in these books, the future of the North will only know death and chaos," Robb warned, noticing the expression his mother made upon hearing Jon's name.

Jon's origin was something else he hadn't told her, but Robb had seen that it was the most popular gossip at the court, and it would soon reach her. That's why Robb was in a hurry to leave Riverrun before the gossip arrived.

"Alright," his mother said reluctantly. "But the war is over, Robb. Your lords hold you in high esteem, and the whole kingdom loves you. Your distrust offends them," she said with regret, looking outside the room where his personal guard was. Robb shook his head solemnly.

"Mother, my lords follow me because I've led them to victory and kept their lands and interests safe. If I go against them, they won't hesitate to raise their hands against me," Robb raised his hand to stop his mother's reply. "Mother, you won't convince me otherwise," Robb declared firmly.

In a past life, Rickard Karstark had turned against him and refused to obey orders. The Umbers and other northern lords had taken the same path. The Freys had betrayed him as soon as things got complicated, and House Stark barely had the support of a few. Robb wouldn't make the same mistakes, placing his future and that of his family in the hands of others.

"As for the people of the Seven Kingdoms, they love not starving, and the food I've purchased for them, now distributed by my allied fleets in the Riverlands and King's Landing. They aren't people who would lift a finger for me, because just as I did, others can put a plate of food in front of them.

"Father didn't take any of this into account and ended up dead for trusting that king's crap…

"Robb!" his mother exclaimed, looking around. Robb smiled.

"Mother, I assure you I'll only endear myself to King Stannis if he learns my opinion of his brother," Robb said with a smile. His mother looked doubly scandalized.

In the evening, the wedding celebration took place in the castle's grand hall and its courtyard. All the Freys, the northern lords in the army, and the children who weren't with Sansa and Arya attended.

Robb sat at the central table, with his future wife by his side, his mother, his grandfather who looked like a corpse but with the alert gaze of an eagle, his uncle Brynden, the elderly Walder Frey who looked more like a corpse than his own grandfather, Rickard Karstark, Jon Umber, Maege Mormont, and Roose Bolton, who brought his new wife, also a Frey.

Bran had already gossiped that Roose had been paid by weight as dowry, and the ambitious lord had chosen the fattest woman. Robb could only blink.

Robb didn't have a strong opinion about his future wife. Even his mother praised her beauty, but she was just a girl with long brown hair, somewhat slim, and a fine face. Average beauty at best. Nothing as extravagant as Queen Cersei, perhaps lacking a bit of development. Young women were always somewhat slim.

Robb could compare her to those slim magazine models, although she didn't reach the point where her bones were visible. But Robb wasn't displeased because the girl was quiet and seemed to appreciate etiquette, unlike her scandalous relative who was Roose Bolton's wife.

Robb didn't like reckless people like her and the Great Jon. That was something he shared in both of his lives, which is why he got along better with his sister Sansa than with Arya, although he always enjoyed Arya's mischief because she wasn't his responsibility. Of course, he wouldn't let Arya grow up without any control, and he had sent Dacey to keep her in check. It would be terrible if his little wild wolf sister grew up without any control and then made a mess of her life. She needed to learn to behave like everyone else.

The wedding proceeded smoothly, and Robb, wearing armor and a hidden dagger, along with safety clothes he made himself, didn't consume anything he didn't see the source of. He gave warning glares to anyone who got too close to him, including his wife.

The women who tried to undress him during the traditional bedding were surprised that his clothes resisted all their attempts. The more reckless ones ended up with sore fingers from hitting them against his hidden armor.

In the morning of the next day, Robb woke up in his bed, accompanied by his new wife, Roslin Frey. He got up and went to the stone window of the tower where his room was.

Robb watched the sunrise, and a smile formed on his face. The smile grew into laughter, waking up Roslin, who looked at him with a blink of incomprehension.

"I'm still alive, and no one was killed at the wedding," explained Robb, but she didn't understand.

Robb didn't mind because he felt wonderful. Only now did he feel that his head was safe, and now he felt euphoric.

"We have to celebrate," said Robb.

"My lord, the celebration was last night," said Roslin.

"Nonsense, the celebration is now," said Robb and started to look for his clothes to have roast meat made and serve wine.

Jeyne

"What do you think?" Jeyne asked the chubby, bald man chained to the rock wall.

Jeyne was in her cell, a reward from King Stannis for guiding him through the secret passages of the Red Keep, which were now being filled with stones.

Varys looked at the book Jeyne held, titled "The Spider," which she had just read to him.

"The Winter Wolf truly knows a lot; I'm not surprised Stannis trusted him. But, my poor girl, these are the games of the powerful, and for us, there will never be gains in them, only pain and misery," Varys said, looking at her with regret.

Jeyne took off her hood and smiled.

"False," Jeyne replied. "You and I are no longer part of the common people, and now we are part of those powerful people you claim to detest," Jeyne explained. "Power resides where men believe it resides," she added. Varys blinked.

"That's right, for some time all your spies have been serving me," Jeyne confirmed.

"And have you decided to join this game and turn your back on your own?" Varys asked coldly. Jeyne slapped him.

"Your hands are stained with my father's blood! And you dare talk about betrayals?" Jeyne reprimanded with fury. Varys smiled sadly.

"My hands are stained with the blood of countless wretched and innocent people, but if I weren't there, I'd be in the hands of others.

"In the game of thrones, common folk are the ones who suffer the most. I couldn't save your father because that meant sacrificing everything he had fought for…" Jeyne slapped him again.

"Varys, you talk a lot about common people. Tell me, what does it feel like to be a common person? I am, or according to you, I was a common person. My father was killed in your and Petyr Baelish's schemes. Tell me, what have I felt?" Jeyne asked. "Robb sent a letter describing my feelings. That's why I know he understands me, and I know he knows what I want. That's why I serve him.

"Tell me what I've felt, and I promise I'll free you from your chains. I'm sure you can continue with your nonsense if I do that," Jeyne offered sincerely because she knew Varys would never understand what the people he called common folk felt in a million years.

"My girl, you're mistaken. I am aware of the pain and hatred that move people like us. The thirst for justice and the misery of not having power…" Jeyne slapped him again, and she did it several times.

When Jeyne finished slapping him, Varys looked at her in disbelief.

"Hatred, thirst for justice, misery? No, Varys, I only felt fear, helplessness, and acceptance. To hate, you need power and freedom, and being a miserable slave without any rights, you have none of those choices; your hope is the bitterest despair, and the word justice has no meaning beyond a feeling of helplessness that encompasses everything.

"This is the feeling that keeps slaves as slaves and servants serving. If you don't have power and freedom, you also don't have the ability to hate beyond a fantasy or a dream. My hatred and thirst for justice only came when Robb put power in my hands.

"Varys, you are an extraordinary person; you could hate and aspire even when you had nothing. You could desire freedom when you were just a slave. And you could long for justice when you had no rights.

"But those you call common people are not like that, and you're a complete idiot if you don't see it because if everyone felt what you have felt, there wouldn't be prisons where nobles could lock up so many people. That makes your words meaningless, and what you do worthless because you were never common people, and certainly, what you were proposing would have no benefit for these common people," explained Jeyne.

"My girl, you have been deceived and manipulated," Varys said sadly.

"Perhaps," admitted Jeyne, and Varys looked at her in surprise. Jeyne smiled.

"Varys, now I only believe in facts. Robb offered me justice, and now Baelish is dead, and you are chained. He offered me a future, and for that, I don't have to stain my hands with the blood of the innocent or participate in your so-called game of thrones. Robb has offered me laws and a king who won't hesitate to cut off the heads of serpents like you and Baelish.

"To Robb, names like common people don't matter; all people are the same in his eyes. What makes them different is the conditions in which they are born. If we see it this way, your plan to uplift common people could never end well; you would only change one set of powerful people for another, and those who would be below them would now be the common people. There is no real change, and that I can see clearly.

"As for Robb's plans, I am creating that future myself, and in about twenty years, I will know if I am wrong. I won't doubt the words of the genocidal man whose hands are stained with my father's blood and whose plans consisted of putting another trash on the throne, who believes his divine right is to rule, and the rest of the world must bend to his wishes.

"Of course, you will see it too, Varys," said Jeyne, waving the copy of the book in her hand. "King Stannis has cut off the heads of three of his lords who, out of greed, sold this book. But thanks to that, it's a bad idea to kill you now, and you'll live chained for a long, long time because King Stannis doesn't want another useless ruler like Baelor the Blessed to arise during his reign and then be worshipped," explained Jeyne.

"Then I will see…

"You will hear it," corrected Jeyne. "From my mouth, as you will never see anyone other than me for the rest of your life. But look at it this way; if I'm wrong, you can charm me into releasing you," Jeyne said with a smile and turned to leave. Robb would arrive soon, and she had to receive him. She also had a letter to deliver.

After a few minutes, Jeyne lifted her hood to a surprised Tyrion Lannister.

"The lady companion of Sansa Stark?" he asked with a surprised blink. "Hadn't she left with her?" he asked.

"No, my lord, I have been in this city for a long time, and I have grown fond of her," Jeyne said with a smile. Tyrion also smiled.

"Does that mean you're hiding a crossbow in that cloak, planning to get revenge?" Tyrion Lannister asked, sitting in a chair in his confinement room, where he was waiting for the rest of his family, who would soon be exiled. Jeyne shook her head.

Jeyne pulled out a letter and tossed it to him. Tyrion used his short hands to catch it.

"What does the Winter Wolf want from me?" Tyrion asked.

"To propose a deal that Tywin Lannister would never accept," Jeyne said frankly. Tyrion frowned but opened the letter and read it.

"As far as I know, my uncle Kevan is still alive, and I don't think he'd be willing to hand over the leadership of the family when I'm making deals with people who killed his brother and are about to execute some of our own," Tyrion said after finishing reading the letter. Jeyne laughed.

"In Robert's Rebellion, the sister of the Prince of Dorne was killed, and her children were presented as trophies by your own father to King Robert. Why isn't Dorne at war against the Iron Throne? Why didn't they try to assassinate your father or King Robert? Prince Doran and the so-called Red Viper have been scheming with absurd plans for fifteen years, a wild pig and sheer coincidence had to deliver justice for them," Jeyne said with disdain.

"In the Iron Islands, Balon Greyjoy rebelled against King Robert, losing more than half his family along the way. Then he bent the knee. Now he has risen again and lost the rest. Tell me, my lord, what example will the Lannisters decide to follow?" Jeyne asked, and Tyrion grimaced. Jeyne nodded.

"You can tell Kevan Lannister that he will accept this deal and serve it with enthusiasm, or the head of his son Lancel will roll alongside Cersei's and Joffrey's. Don't make me continue threatening heads," Jeyne warned.

Tyrion Lannister clenched his teeth. He didn't speak for several seconds. Then he poured wine and looked contemplative.

"I accept," he said after five minutes, giving her an uncomfortable look.

"My lord, do you have any questions?" Jeyne asked.

"There's a sellsword who was accompanying me; his name is Bronn," Tyrion said. Jeyne nodded.

"I found him trying to flee the city, but when I told him that you would receive a lot of gold in the coming days, he decided to stay. He seemed sure that you would accept my lord's deal," Jeyne explained, and Tyrion sighed.

"How the hell did he escape Stannis' men?" Tyrion asked, seeming not to understand.

"By joining the attacking army and then turning the corner," Jeyne explained.

"Cunning bastard," Tyrion said with a smile.

"Not as much as my lord, but yes, he's somewhat cunning. My lord thinks he could be useful in the future, so he has proposed his return," Jeyne explained.

Daenerys.

"… In the end, this is just a story, and one told by someone who, until a few months ago, you believed to be your enemy, and from whom until now, in fact, you have only heard stories. So it's your choice to believe or not. But remember, a story can be fantasy or reality, and what sets them apart are not the fantastic elements in them but the facts and reality."

"Your nephew Robb Stark, a stranger to whom they add more names every day, all vile slanders, ignore them."

Despite herself, Daenerys smiled at the farewell in the letter, and that was the third time she had read it. Her nieces had told her that all the nicknames of her supposed nephew were for something bad or some gossip; they were not compliments.

Daenerys lowered the scrolls, which, if looked at objectively, were ten sheets of a story, even had a title. "The Spider," and a horror narrative about how a boy castrated in a dark ritual became a spy. How this spy became a noble through his encounter with a king.

How he planned to use it to eradicate what he believed was one of the evils of this world. And how, after setting this goal, he used an entire continent to play a power game whose ultimate end was power for what he thought was the greater good. With this goal in mind, he planned wars, assassinations, genocides, and massacres where the rest of the world was just pieces and tools.

There were no doubts, regrets, or remorse, just a constant lament for suffering, almost impersonal, detached from him, as if it were something foreign to his actions, because, in fact, that's what he thought.

People suffered and died for his plans, but he justified it, arguing with himself that they would suffer and die anyway if he wasn't there. It sounded crazy, but that was his unquestionable reality because there was a life before the horror story began, and in that life, this person was a pawn on the board, one of those people who suffered.

And one day, from being a pawn, he became a player, and after that, a god who decides the life and death of millions with just one move. Among these millions was Daenerys Targaryen herself, the Unburnt and Mother of Dragons. Sold to the Dothraki with a purpose in this whole plan, a purpose that had already changed and would be adjusted once again in the hands of Illyrio Mopatis.

Perhaps they would just kill her and give her children to her own claimant to the throne; they really didn't need someone who declared herself queen and wasn't going to hand over that title to anyone else. In turn, her dragons would legitimize their own claimant.

"Aunt Daenerys?" Sansa Stark said, approaching the ship's rail, speaking to her while looking at the scrolls in her hand with concern, as it wasn't the first time Daenerys had separated herself from the rest to read them.

Daenerys turned around to look at the sea and sighed.

"According to this story, I am nothing. There is no Daenerys Targaryen; I am just another puppet that came and went according to the will of its puppeteer," Daenerys said sadly. Sansa laughed, and Daenerys turned to look at her. She covered her mouth with embarrassment.

"Aunt Daenerys, I wasn't laughing at you; I was laughing at myself," Sansa clarified uncomfortably. "I told the same to Robb when I read these scrolls," Sansa confessed.

Of course, Daenerys was just another puppet in this story because it didn't even concern her; she was just a puppet like everyone else. What surprised Daenerys is that this girl admitted feeling like her, but now she was laughing, which didn't make much sense.

"And what happened for you to laugh now?" Daenerys asked, thinking that she might rid herself of this feeling of not knowing what to do if she did the same as her.

"When I told my brother, he asked me what Arya had done. I looked at Arya, who was about three meters away from me, but Arya hadn't finished reading yet, so I had to wait to see what she would do.

"When Arya finished reading, she put the scrolls aside and spat on the ground. 'If you're so smart, how come they're going to cut off your head,' Arya said and called Dacey to practice with the sword.

"You think too much. Varys has never controlled your life; he just fooled you into making some wrong decisions, but that happens to people all the time. Besides, puppets don't speak or move on their own. Don't be silly," Robb reprimanded, and after hearing it, I really felt foolish," Sansa confessed. Daenerys grimaced because, in fact, she was also starting to feel foolish.

Puppets don't speak or move on their own, Dany thought. She had been sold by the puppeteer, but Drogo was real; she spoke with him. Ate and slept on the way to Vaes Dothrak, made friends, friends, even enemies. She lost everything and gained everything. None of this was in the puppeteer's plans because she spoke and walked on her own; he could only lie to make her follow another path. So, despite his lies, her life remained hers, and she remained herself.

"Your brother is a very wise person; he says a lot with few words," Dany said.

"He told me to call him the Wise Wolf, but I can't because he doesn't behave like a wise person; he's always looking to bypass the rules and do what he wants. I think his other nicknames suit him better, even adding the Arrogant Wolf," Sansa said with a smile. Daenerys also smiled, although she didn't know her supposed nephew; she felt she would recognize him when she saw him.

Daenerys looked at the sea again, this time feeling somewhat foolish, but also herself, able to think calmly about what they would do next, as the fleet was in a condition where there was no wind to push the sails of their larger ships; all they could do was wait and take the opportunity to think about what they would do later…

Daenerys was pulled from her thoughts by a scream and a roar. She turned to see the dragons chasing Arya Stark across the deck. She had shouted because Drogon, in his excitement, spat fire, and now there were burning ropes, and people were running everywhere to find the water buckets they had prepared as a precaution.

Arya and the dragons were already far away, and she continued running forward to stop occasionally and stab a dragon's neck accurately, shouting "dead" when touching it. Then dodge the dragon's bite and jump back to running.

"Well, this time could also be used to play; not everyone had to be thinking all the time," Dany thought with a smile. She always talked to Sansa because they could understand each other with few words. Arya had always ignored her and had declared from the beginning that she only cared about the dragons with which, according to her, she could communicate thanks to her magic.

It's not that Daenerys doubted their magic because these girls could put their minds into ravens and speak through them with their brother, who was a continent and a half sea away.

Her brother also won a war easily using it. They could know what was happening in Westeros thanks to these ravens because no matter the distance, they could communicate and see their brothers and family.

Dany didn't believe it at first until she separated the girls from one end of the ship to the other, making them whisper to her and a raven, and when she went to the other end, they told her the same words that her sister had whispered.

Daenerys didn't find it hard to believe them because she had dragons and had her own experiences with magic, although those experiences were disturbing, and the magic of these girls didn't seem the same. Although they themselves told her that it was extremely dangerous, and an old green-seer, someone who could truly be called a wizard who cast spells and knew many things called the Three-Eyed Raven, taught and protected them so that no one would harm them while using their magic, especially their little brother Bran, who was also one of these so-called green-seers and could cause a world disaster if the wrong people laid their hands on him. He was like Dany's dragons, a weapon that could be used to conquer the world.

Daenerys smiled, looking at Arya with some envy, but she was a queen, and she had duties.

"Sansa, come with me," Dany said, throwing the scrolls she still held in her hand overboard and discarding her silly thoughts with them. Sansa followed her until they reached the hatch that led to the first lower deck.

"Lady Daenerys, Lady Sansa," greeted Ser Wendel Manderly, a man with the appearance of a bald brute with walrus mustaches but the intelligence of a shrewd lord, who used his appearance to shield himself from those who thought they were intelligent.

Dany had spoken with him about his family, seeking to know more about the Starks, but after talking for more than two hours without stopping and when she already felt dizzy, Dany discovered that she hadn't found out anything about the Starks, not even about the man In front of her. All she had talked about were general things that any lord would boast about, like his house being old, but the same could be said for most houses serving the Starks, something Dany already knew. That he had a brother, then said they were two, maybe he had nephews, it was possible he knew how to sail a ship, maybe he knew how to use a sword…

It was madness, and Dany only realized they were playing her in their second conversation when she realized no one could be that foolish. So she opened up to him, and after mustering the courage to apologize for trying to extract information from him, he smiled at her, and they truly talked. Still, he refused to call her a queen without his lord doing it first.

"Ser Wendel," greeted Daenerys. He stepped aside. He wasn't actually on guard duty, but as they were heading to the cells, he was there to look after Sansa, for which she was sent there. Although, as she later learned, his honor was vilely stained by the Winter Wolf, and all those who were there were almost exiled because of him, so they harbored resentment, but they remained loyal. Dany could only feel confused about it.

Daenerys descended the stairs to the lower deck and, without stopping, went to the next hatch to continue descending until they reached the cargo hold, where there was a compartment where they had cleared a corner of two by two to use as a cell, where two men were.

Daenerys approached them while ignoring them and pretending to look at the sacks of flour, vegetables, and hams in the hold.

"It doesn't seem like they're learning their lesson," Daenerys commented, looking at the remains of an apple and a few raisins.

As the food bags were next to them, Dany supposed that boredom might have gotten to them.

"No one said we couldn't take them," said the old man with a long white beard uncomfortably.

He was the same one who had saved her from the manticore they intended to use to assassinate her before meeting Sansa and her sister. The old man already had white hair, but his body was muscular and fit, a warrior in the prime of his days wouldn't look better.

Beside him was his equally hairy and muscular bear with his half-bald head and wild appearance. They were Ser Barristan Selmy and Jorah Mormont, another pair of Varys' puppets mentioned in his book.

"It may be, but this is a cell, and if you're in there, it shouldn't be to fill your belly with what you can scrounge from the surroundings," said Dany coldly, while Sansa chuckled at her lack of manners.

"Ser Barristan, my brother Bran is surely interested in this story; he's a great admirer of yours," Sansa said. Ser Barristan took the jab stoically and didn't try to defend his case further.

"Ser? A couple of puppets and Varys' spies is what you are," accused Daenerys.

"The eunuch assisted me in coming here, but I am not his spy," replied Ser Barristan.

"My queen, I stopped sending reports to Varys when we were in Qarth; now I only serve you," assured his bear. But as the first time he said those words, she only felt indignation when thinking about how he had informed her enemies about her son, so they tried to kill her. He had also informed them about her dragons, who were also her children. Dany couldn't speak with him due to the fury, so she looked at the old man.

"And you, what did you intend by approaching without saying anything? Wait for an opportunity to offer my head to Cersei Lannister," accused Daenerys. From what she had read in Varys' book, Ser Barristan was an honorable man, but that was a story, and she had to verify things for herself. Ser Barristan took the blow with evident discouragement.

"Your Majesty, I cannot prove my words, and as you tell me, Varys has used me, as he has done with many others around you. I can only say that it is regrettable. But I am not a spy of Varys, for I am here of my own will, as I had already decided to serve you from the moment I left King's Landing.

"However, I have heard rumors, and I couldn't help but think of your father and your brother Viserys, who showed a twisted personality even as a child," confessed Ser Barristan.

Dany knew what they said about her. The Dothraki roamed around looking for her to take her with the other widows of the khal, and meanwhile, they said all kinds of things about her that the merchants took and added even more. If Ser Barristan had heard at least half of what they said, Dany understood his doubts.

"So, you thought of examining me first, and if I was rotten, you would continue on your way," said Dany.

"I must confess that was my intention, Your Majesty," said Ser Barristan sincerely.

"Well, you have until we disembark at another port to decide whether to serve me or get lost," Dany said, looking at Ser Wendel, who hurried to open the gate and let him out.

"You still haven't given me any reason to forgive you," Daenerys said, looking at her traitorous and spying bear with coldness.

"Robb Stark hasn't done anything to gain your trust either," accused Ser Jorah, looking at Sansa, who had no reaction.

"Trust is earned or lost over time. With your time, you have lost yours. With our time, we plan to earn ours," said Sansa calmly. Daenerys could only admire her. Her bear growled.

"I can still prove my worth, and I can do it by helping you build your own strength so that you don't have to depend on anyone but yourself," said Ser Jorah. Daenerys raised an eyebrow. "Your Majesty, have you heard of the three thousand of Qohor?" Ser Jorah asked.

NA 1: Robb's paranoia didn't let him celebrate his own wedding, but now that it's over, he does feel victorious and plans to celebrate. Catelyn Stark remains ignorant of everything happening with her children, and Robb plans to be far away when she finds out.

NA 2: Lysa Arryn has gone completely mad, and Stannis has agreed to let her return to Riverrun in silence and not leave there, so it's a house arrest.

NA 3: The report on Varys, which Robb has put into Stannis's hands, has leaked to all of King's Landing, and soon the entire kingdom will know his story.

NA 4: In the next chapter, we will see a POV from Tyrion and another from Robb.


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