The She-Wolf Disappears

Sighing tiredly, a common act for him in recent days, Robb strode down along the battlements of the Antlers. Behind him, members of his personal guard followed at a distance. It was one of the few moments he had gained in which he was able to actually leave his chambers or the war room, constantly beset by information and decisions that required his attention.

Being King was tiring.

'No wonder Robert became what he was.' Robb thought to himself, coming to a stop for a moment as he overlooked the army gathered outside. A field of silver, as soldiers lined up in their formations, preparing to march south stretching out as far as the eye could see.

A sight that had at one point in time filled him with awe and a healthy amount of fear. It was only natural to feel fear when looking upon an army that one commanded and considering how young he had been, that fear had been amplified. But now, he felt nothing as he looked upon it. Commanding men, leading armies, it was common for him now, it felt normal. The crushing weight that had pressed down upon him was there, stronger than ever, the responsibilities he held only increasing as the war continued. But now he no longer felt sick, no longer felt restless and helpless.

Everything about his life now that had once been so strange to him in the beginning, was now normal. This was his life now and Robb as much as he did not want to admit it was used to it. He had adapted and Robb knew that he could never go back to how he once was, the world and his life could never return to what it once was.

For a moment he allowed that to rest in his mind before turning away from the sight, dismissing the saddening thought. There, in the courtyard sat the lords and ladies who would lead this army, and at the front of them, Lord Randyll Tarly.

Each of them had watched him and the moment he turned they bowed their heads. A show of respect, of subservience. But they waited, expecting words as all did from their Lord when setting out for war. Some great speech to rouse their spirits, to affirm their minds and focus them purely upon the task before them.

Yet Robb did not give a speech.

He gave a simple order.

"There is only victory!" He proclaimed boldly and despite the simplicity and shortness of his words, they had a profound effect upon them all. Robb gave no options, he gave no loopholes, he gave them only one route to follow. Victory and nothing else. No defeat, no retreat, no death.

Only victory remained for them at this point.

And as Randyll rose, the other lords and ladies under his command doing the same, Robb locked gazes with him. There was but a minuscule inclination of his head, an acknowledgement of the order before Randyll urged his horse on.

Turning back, Robb watched a shift come over the army as they watched the gate open. A large shift, as they too turned to face the south, Randyll and the lords marching up through the centre and eventually out of sight. Then a horn blasted, flags were raised and the army began to move.

'Randyll will do his part.' Robb knew that much. 'Now I must do my part.'

As Robb went to turn, he squinted slightly as he felt the light bare down upon his eyes. Trying to figure out where it came from, Robb's gaze eventually landed upon the clean and immaculate armour of Harold Hardyng. The sunlight reflecting off it and almost blinding him momentarily.

'I just hope that doesn't go for the rest of the Vale Knights. They will be key to our victory if none of the Targaryens surrender. If they end up blinding one another victory will be impossible.' But as Robb thought upon that, an idea began to form. "Blind."

"Yer grace?" Smalljon questioned, all of having heard Robb mutter something but not completely certain of what.

"Prepare a rider to be dispatched for Randyll Tarly!" Pushing his way past his personal guard, Robb urgently made his way towards his chambers.

"Robb, what's happening?" Garlan asked.

"I've found a way to fight the Dragons."

-X- Line Break -X-

Worry.

That was something she was beginning to grow tired of feeling and all because of the war going on. She knew of course that her brothers were skilled, she knew of course that her husband was also skilled. Mayhap's not as great a swordsman as Loras or Garlan, but his mind was sharped than theirs combined. He was, after all, one of the best if not the best military commander currently alive in Westeros.

He had for two years been waging war against the Lannisters and had won. But now, just when things seemed to be reaching an end, the Targaryens returned. Thirty thousand under the command of Aegon Targaryen. Ten thousand of which belonged to the Golden Company, one of the most skilled and dangerous fighting forces in the known world. Not to mention the remaining twenty thousand belonged to the Dornish, a force that one should never underestimate.

Then there were twenty thousand camped at Dragonstone under the command of Daenerys Targaryen who also possessed Dragons.

Dragons!

It was no wonder that Margaery and the Maesters feared for a miscarriage considering the amount of stress she was going through. She loved her brothers and while she would not be premature or foolish to say she loved Robb, or that he loved her, she did care for him. They were friends at the very least and she did not want to see him die either.

But the odds seemed to be stacked against him once more.

"They'll be okay." Beside her, the growing beauty that was Sansa Stark said quietly, but her voice was confident and firm. "My father and Robb, they'll win." Margaery couldn't help but wonder as to what made Sansa so confident in them. She knew of the exploits of both Ned and Robb.

Margaery had been beside Robb for a long time now, had seen his mind at work and tended to his wounds after the battle. She knew the strength Robb possessed. Just as she knew of Robb's strength, she also knew of Ned Stark's skill and exploits, but only through stories.

Against Aegon and against armies of any size, Margaery would not worry. But against Dragons, she couldn't help but wonder if this was the end. The Field of Fire and its impact upon the future of Westeros was still felt even to this day. After all, it was as many said, the moment in which Aegon had won.

Certainly, after that moment he did face problems, but no one challenged him openly, no one with real power anyway.

"I hope so," Margaery murmured, hands resting upon her stomach where she could feel hers and Robb's child kicking. Despite being fraught with worry, the feeling of it brought a gentle smile to her face.

Up ahead, Willas rounded the corner looking particularly haggard, his gaze sweeping up and down the corridors as armed guards rushed past him. "Dear sister, lady Sansa," Willas said, his gaze landing upon them. "Have you seen Arya?"

"Arya? Why? What's happened?" Margaery asked.

"She's gone."