thespherelogs | The Rains Weep O'er Their Halls

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The Rains Weep O'er Their Halls

Who: Robb Stark and YOU
Where: Outside of a bar
What: Arrival
When: 5/8
Warnings: Mentions of death and violence, ptsd. Drunken sex, NSFW.

[He isn't in the best mind frame as he's told where he is and that he is here for a reason. In his mind, he can still hear the "Rains of Castamere" and hear the screaming of his men. He can hear his mother begging for his life and see his wife on the floor. His death wrapped around him like a cloak, leaving him in a deep fog as he wanders, searching for something and nothing at the same time.

Eventually he finds somewhere that looks close enough to a tavern, but the act of opening the door is too much for his body, still sore and aching from his wounds. They may have healed, but he could still feel them. Some things couldn't be erased. With his hand on the door, he stands for a moment, staring at it, as though expecting it to warp and change.

There was someone next to him, but his thoughts are so jumbled, it's hard to make them out from the corner of his eye. He has to shake himself to remember he's blocking the entrance.]

I'm sorry. Am I in your way?

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[Do you want a poke in the ribs, Robb? Because you're about to get one.]

Black didn't agree with me as well as I had hoped.

You brood enough for it.

[Bring it, Jon.]

[He's warming up his poking finger right now, Robb.]

And how many items of clothing do you have in your wardrobe that aren't black or something close to it?

A few. I wore brown more than black. Have you forgotten that already?

I barely paid attention to what you were wearing when you were wearing it.

[And it has been years since then.]

There is much I have forgotten, and more that I will forget, too, I'm sure.

[That was fair.]

There is much I wish to forget.

My wife was with child.

[Oh.

That...that makes this ten times worse. He hadn't expected he would have a family of his own; he hadn't thought about his future much before leaving Winterfell, but he knew he wouldn't be welcome there with Ned gone and the Wall had seemed like the best option. Which had taken away the possibility of a family, and from what Sansa's told him, that possibility is gone again. Robb, as the heir to Winterfell and then its lord, would always have expected a wife and children.

Jon doesn't know that particular loss, but he can see what effect it has on Robb. He rests his hand on Robb's shoulder and squeezes it gently, then nods at the door behind them.]

I'm sorry, brother.

Come. Let's have a drink. There is still much to discuss.

[It was difficult to even form the words. The pain was suffocating, made worse with each minute he was still alive and aware. Part of him had given up before the finishing blow had been given. He had tried to show that to his mother, but even speaking had been too hard.

He pulled himself away from those memories, relieved to think about crawling into a bottle and staying there.]

You will have to pay.

I can do that.

[He leads them inside and finds a table, where he leaves Ghost and Robb and goes to get them some drinks. He sets one down in front of Robb and takes a seat at the table.]

I don't even know where to start.

[Seeing Ghost is painful. He should have kept Grey Wind with him, but it seems likely the wolf would have been killed regardless. He hoped it was at least quick, his companion's absence all too sharp in his heart.

Ease him into this, Jon.]

Were you at the Wall when you got the news about me?

[Robb doesn't want to know what happened to Grey Wind, and Jon won't tell him unless he asks. That knowledge won't help anything.]

I was. And when I got the news about Father, too.

[No matter what happened while he was among the wildlings, he would have heard about it when he went back to the Wall. That makes it easier to keep time straight in his mind.]

How long were you there before you managed to leave?

How in the Seven Hells did you keep your head on your shoulders?

A few years.

[Funny you should ask that, Robb. He glances around to make sure no one is watching them before lifting his shirt to show Robb the scars that hide underneath, angry-looking and fatal, and obviously healed.]

I swore an oath to serve until death took me. That oath is fulfilled.

[He knows those types of scars, even if hasn't looked at his own. They looked fatal, deep and grotesque. But that meant that Jon was killed, yet from what Sansa told him, she met him again after he left the Wall.

Beyond that, he called himself king.]

How could you walk away from that?

I didn't.

[He takes a long sip of his drink.]

Five of my men turned on me because they didn't agree with a decision I made. A couple of Stannis' men found me -- he was there asking for aid -- and I don't know exactly what happened because I was dead, but he had someone with him, the Red Woman, a priestess of the Lord of Light, and she did something... I don't know what it was, and she said it wasn't her, it was because the Lord of Light wasn't finished with me, but I am no longer among the dead.

[He doesn't fully understand it either.]

Then I considered my oath fulfilled.

[So they both were betrayed by their men. Somehow, that's comforting. Sansa, Arya and the rest, they suffered, but knowing that he and Jon had a similar experience made him feel less alone and guilty. They had always been close, little surprise that they faced much of the same opposition as leaders.

It was the matter with the Red Woman and the Lord of Light that he found a bit hard to swallow. Magic wasn't real, as far as he knew. The dead couldn't be raised, it was a story that Old Nan might tell them, but never really happened.

He never knew Jon to lie, which meant he had to find a way to wrap his mind around this and reconcile this idea.]

I wonder what the Old Gods would make of that.

[It was all he could think to say. He's flabbergasted by the rest.]

I don't follow the Lord of Light now, if that's your concern. Just because she said she did his will doesn't mean anything.

I suppose I could argue that the old gods have given me their favor since. It doesn't seem to bother them.

I don't know why I said that. [He didn't care what Jon worshiped, he was his brother.] My mother met Stannis's Red Woman when she visited Renly's camp.

She claimed that Renly was killed with some sort of magic, but couldn't explain it well.

[And he might not have been listening at the time.]

If she helped you, she has my thanks for that.

Brienne of Tarth executed Stannis because he was somehow involved in his brother's death. Given how much advice the Red Woman gave him, I would believe that it had something to do with her.

[Oh. Right. Robb won't know of Stannis' death either. Surprise? There are no Baratheons left now. At least not trueborn ones.]

She seemed determined to do that when she was at my camps. Not long after, mother sent her away to trade the Kingslayer for Sansa. [So many troubles after that.] Better I never met the Red Woman then. I blocked Stannis from the throne.

She thought Stannis was the chosen one or something. She seems to have been wrong about that. It probably is better that you never met her.

The chosen one for what? Ruling instead of the Lannisters? Stannis had the better claim, but I don't think anyone would say he's a "chosen one".

There's a prophecy, among the followers of the Lord of Light, about a prince who was promised. She thought it was about him. Either it wasn't, or it was a prophecy with an unsatisfying end.

So the rumors about Stannis following the Red God is true?

What's this Prince Who Was Promised supposed to do?

They're true. He was a follower of the Lord of Light.

[Which honestly probably hadn't helped his claim, among the followers of the Old Gods or the Seven alike.]

She thought it meant he was destined for the Iron Throne.

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