Rickard stared at the boy in the saddle a few yards away. The slew of threats was not at all what he was expecting. He'd been promised pains and hardships before, but by adults. When a child tells you he could have you castrated there is something deeply unsettling about that. Rickard cleared his throat and responded.
"Well... I'm not quite sure who Baffin is or what laws you think I broke but you're not with Baffin and you're not in Khalidor boy. You're in The North, your laws don't mean shit here. As for my
Master, ain't go one of those neither. Northerners don't have masters because Northerners aren't dogs and we're not slaves. I've got a king and you're more than welcome to speak to him if you want that chat about what to do with all them Khalidorians we just butchered."
Lord Rickard shifted his eyes to the men surrounding him. He was glad he wasn't already dead, this lot looked poised to run him through. Yet the boy seemed keen on talking and he seemed to be the one in charge oddly enough so Rickard just hoped his luck would hold out long enough.
"King Stark will want to know who it is I just brought before him if that's your notion."
"King Stark! King Stark!"
Jon turned around to the sound of one of his men calling his name. He had just started moving his men towards New Castle. The bulk of the army was washing over the city like a cleansing wave, washing all trace of Khalidor clean from it's streets. Jon was taking his men to the central keep to finish the task of securing the city and that meant taking New Castle. He would have his men deal with the Khalidorian auxiliary while he and Da'Karro dealt with their high command and elites. Yet as one of his men called to him and pointed he saw he was just about to start that fight on his own because Da'Karro was wandering off.
"Seven hells! Where is he going?"
Jon cursed as he urged his horse into a trot. It took him seconds to catch up to Da'Karro. He brought his horse a round in front of him, stopping him as his horse reared back.
"Where the hell are you going? New Castle is that way."
Jon asked through the sounds of the battle.
Robb's hands were blackened from the charred skin. He must have searched dozens of bodies by now. The soot was caked to his gloves, his armor, even his hair. He hardly noticed the stench of burned flesh. He had to find her, it was all that mattered. He had not seen her when he broke through the gates. He had not seen her when he dealt with the forward guard. He could not see her now. He hefted one body off another, their blackened bodies almost fused to one another from the intense heat. He prayed silently in his mind that he would not find her hear. That she would saunter out of nearby alley way and ask him what in the hell he was doing while she gave him that impish smirk of hers.
Then he heard it. The long and lonely call of Grey Wind's howl, a wolfs lament. He turned slowly, his eyes finding the great beast that had been his friend for so long. He stood over a bit of clothing covering a figure, every so often he'd sniff it with a whimper. Robb approached, his heart thumped in his chest, fear driving it. He looked down and recognized the cloth instantly, it was hers. Her coat, the coat she wore and once she slipped it over her shoulders she was The Captain, The Crimson Lady. Robb's hands trembled as he reached for it, they shook so badly he wasn't sure he'd be able to grasp it but he did. It was soaked in blood. He took a breath, slow and steady to steel himself for what he may find underneath. He grit his teeth and pulled back the coat to reveal the charred body underneath.
Sansa could feel the tears coming, they yearned to kiss her soft cheeks as they so often did but she refused to allow them to. She had been sad for so long, weak for so long. A stupid girl with stupid dreams. To dream of a sister who was her best friend as well as he beloved sibling was just that, a dream.
"Clara it's not you. It's nothing you did. I'm not angry with you, I promise you. It's... the other night. I had come to collect you and Arya for the feast. I heard you two talking. I heard her tell you she wished you were her sisters instead of me."
Sansa had never said the words out loud before. She'd never uttered the horrible thing she heard, she couldn't bring herself to do it yet now she had and it was all the more real for it. She wanted to cry but she had no tears left, Arya had taken them all away when she'd left Castle Black.
"I don't know why she hates me Clara, I don't know. I love her but she hates me all the same. I'm not... I'm not like her. I'm not strong and brave and wild like her but that doesn't mean I can't love her. She my sister,
my sister. Why do you have her love and I don't?"