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Who: Robb Stark & you
Broadcast: Fleetwide broadcast & some action
Action: The Marsiva
When: 22nd of December

[Before he starts to talk Robb peers into the box given to him. Apparently it works like ravens only faster and without wings. And would it also mean that everyone could see him?.

He figures he should sound firm and sure. Especially in an environment he does not entirely know. Well, he knows some things but not enough to string things together properly.]

Good morrow. How did I arrive here? [He rolls his shoulders a little and moves a hand through his hair.] I have heard I am part of a show. But why is that so? [Could people really see him through this thing? He peers into the box again and for a moment anyone hearing this can see a large blue eyeball gazing at them. Finally it zooms out and Robb talks again.] I have not asked for this. There are other places where I am needed.

I appreciate all answers. The ones who are able to send me back to where I belong will not be forgotten. If it is coin you wish we can talk of that. My name is Robb Stark. [A pause. Still, he has to know so he asks the most important question of all.]

Can anyone see me through this?

[Robb is still wearing the clothes he came with. He remembers he spilled a bit of grease on his collar when he was at the Twins but it seems to be gone completely. When he looks at the direwolf pin that keeps his cloak together it seems to shine even more than it did before he entered lord Frey's great hall.

He walks slowly towards the large windows and narrows his eyes a little. He has been told about space and planets. He has been told about ships flying through space to visit said planets but the actual view is even more impressive than he imagined it to be.

His fingers tighten around the crown he is holding in his hands.]

It is a never ending darkness...

[He mutters the words more to himself than anyone who is close to him. Gods, it is even more impressive than he imagined it to be. Like the blue sky only further than that.]

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[Well, there is the tale about Tywin Lannister's uncanny ability to shit gold, mayhaps Tyrion would've inherited that from his lord father.]

I do not think it is difficult for a Lannister to get his hands on gold.

[If Joffrey had been poisoned, Robb would have known. He would have known it later but he would have known. It is a truly odd thing.]

Sansa would have told me. I cannot speak for you. [A pause.] And? Have you done it? Would you truly want to be a kinslayer?

[Oh, Robb. Tyrion will one day tell you the tale of how Tywin does not, in fact, shit gold.]

It is not difficult - if one has the acumen.

[Tyrion's lips twist just a little bit at that expression, before he rested his small hand on his chin.]

Oh I would have told you, with great glee in my heart. Alas, no, I did not murder the little madman -- but I should have. He was a monster -- and taking the name kinslayer would have made it worth it.

[Robb had always thought that Joffrey was a bit off. The way the boy responded to their innocent sparring at Winterfell's inside court back then. The way he demanded real swords and how ser Rodrik's no got greeted by mocking snorts of the Lannister men.

Not to mention the entire matter with Sansa and Lady. He frowns.]

I take it he mistreated Sansa? [They were betrothed to one another. A 'blessed' marriage borne out of the friendship between his lord father and king Robert Baratheon.] What has he done to her?

[Joffrey was what happened when an insane woman had a child with her mentally defective twin brother -- but that may have been Tyrion's prejudices talking.

He sighed, softly, rubbing another finger across his chin.]

He did. [A pause.] And I stopped it, at every turn -- but I could not be there all the time. He hit her, emotionally abused her, and generally went out of his way to torture her. [He lowered his gaze, his jaw tight.] He punished her for your victories, and lorded your father's death over her head.

[He looked up at Robb, his mis-matched eyes sparking.] But never think your sister is any kind of victim, Robb Stark. She stood up against him and all comers, including my sister, with a will of iron. She did not give up her virtue, nor her honor. She is ... without a doubt, the bravest and most resilient woman I know. So I trust you will treat her as such - and not just your sister. She deserves more respect than that.

[Robb listens in silence. Sometimes he is aware of his own fits of anger. And his tendency to act out of that anger before seeing the grander scheme. And he is absolutely very aware of the anger that creeps up to him now. Something red and unbelievably harsh.

The same thing he felt after the unnecessary murder on his two Lannister squires but maybe a bit more intense.]

That bloody weak craven of a king! [If he could take a man’s head multiple times he would definitely do that to Joffrey, if their paths ever may cross. He does not get into Tyrion telling him that he tried to stop it.]

She is a child of my lord father. Of course she would keep her honor high. I would not expect her to crawl in front of that monster that sits the Iron Throne. [The words come out curt and clipped and it takes a lot of willpower to not throw this black box through the hallway.] She will not bend the knee to men like that.

[But, victim or no. He feels guilty. More guilty than ever before.]

[He could see the slow rise of anger in the Stark King, before he rested his fingers against his jaw. Watching the other man's reaction as closely as he watched anything else.]

I will never deny that he was a weak-willed teat sucking coward and a bully. [And that was his nephew he was so fondly speaking of.]

[There's something in his gaze, Robb Stark. Something close to respect.] No, she will not. So let them bow the knee to her instead.

[If Joffrey was truly dead that would be a relief for Westeros as a whole. But then again, Tommen did not seem fit to be a king either. But then again, many did not seem Robb Stark himself fit to bear the weight of a crown.

Gods be good, at times he wonders if he truly is king-material.

It takes a fair amount of time to get a grip on his anger and continue the conversation.]

I wish to undo your marriage to her. [There is some sort of respect in the Imp’s eyes, but then again, Robb Stark is no friend to House Lannister, and treats every member as such.] After that we will see who bends the knee to who.

[He wasn't, poor lad. He was a nice boy who did not deserve the pain that would be inflicted on anyone who sat on the Iron Throne. Robb Stark at least had the stature, if not the wit, to hold it.

Of course, Tyrion's thoughts lay in a different direction.

He waits for the other man to calm down, so he can sip his water and wait.

What happens then, however, nearly makes him choke, as he gathers his wits and replies calmly.] My Lord Stark, I don't have any idea what you are talking about.

[By the Seven boy! Sansa didn't want anyone to know they were married. He glowers at Robb, hoping the idiot boy king gets the message Tyrion is attempting to send telepathically into his fool head.]

[First Robb frowns at Tyrion’s response and pulls a very displeased face afterwards.

It is already aggravating enough to know that the Lannisters think they can have a claim on Winterfell, but pretending there is no such thing...no.]

You think this is some sort of jape? [Robb leans closer to the black box to make sure that the other can see how displeased he really is.] You truly think I would allow your lord father to have even the tiniest bit of my castle? [Even when that castle has been put to the torch and probably is nothing but a burned shell. Details, details.

And then again, he has always seen the Imp as the more intelligent one. The saddle he once proposed for Bran had worked and had brought somewhat of a smile back on his brother’s face. In a way Robb had appreciated that. Once, when his own father was still alive and the war was something far, far away.]

Do not take me for a fool. [Even though Robb could be quite foolish.]

[.... Right. Tyrion picks up the device and easily switches it to private mode, his mis-matched eyes flaring with anger.]

Did it ever occur to you to ask your sister what precisely we had been doing with our marriage? Namely, not talking about it so she wasn't a target and in fact, could look for other protectors without her husband being in the way? Did it also occur to you that we cannot annul the marriage without the blessing of the High Septon and unless you have him tucked inside of your armor that is rather impossible!?

[He is utterly furious, Robb. How dare you out their secret?]

And frankly, I never wanted your damned Winter Fortress unless Sansa wanted it, and then I would have razed every Lannister force to the ground to give it to her. I have only ever wanted what was my due, which was Kings Landing, and my late father has made that quite impossible for now, so ... your arguments are invalid and childish. Come back with a better counteroffer.

[As the Imp rants Robb looks at him with a very annoyed look on his face. The High Septon? He does not pray to the Seven and what their septon says does not really matter to him. But he knows Sansa does, just like their mother does. It probably is something he has to take into account.

He did not even know this was a secret. The words had come to him from King’s Landing. Sansa married the Imp. In his eyes it had always looked like a futile attempt of House Lannister to set foot in the North.]

Your septon. Not mine. [He is sitting up straight now, looking as kingly as he can.] And aye, I will protect her now. To my gods your marriage holds no meaning. [Well, he’s not entirely sure about that. Robb knows a lot about swords and warfare, but religion...not one of his strongest points.

But then... What did he say there?]

Late father? Did lord Tywin die as well? [Well, if all those wretched Lannisters keep dying like that... Robb cannot complain.]

Yes, and my Septon is still the one who ratified the marriage in the first place. Your Gods haven't seen fit to strike me down with lightening, so I am going to consider this a blessing upon our union. [Is Tyrion's acid reply, before he stops. And then ... considers.]

Yes. A grievous wound to his stomach. He died horribly and painfully, as was his due. [Was his cool response.] So as much as you are King of the North, I suppose that makes me King of the West. [Hah. Hah. HAH.] I won't ask for your respect, Robb Stark, or to bend a knee, or whatever other noble nonsense you have going on in your head. I will remind you, however, that my father's death now opens up the avenue for new alliances. To do that however, you will respect the word of my gods, and your sister. When she is ready to do away with our wedding vows, I shall cut ties. But do not think you can order me to do it.

[Robb Stark had no claim on him.]

Spare me your snide remarks, Imp.

[Robb huffs and straightens his back even more. He does not approve of this marriage, yet, he is afraid he cannot deny the fact that it is, indeed, a valid marriage. It is not something that cannot be forgotten.

But the news about Tywin, that is surprising. He did not know, just like he never knew about Joffrey. It would change a lot of things. He had to change plans, mayhaps he should ask for the Vale’s alliance or start negotiating with Highgarden. His lady mother once told him with a sigh why he did not pick the lady Margaery for his wife.

While Tyrion speaks Robb frowns, thinking deeply.]

Are you the heir to Casterly Rock? Or the Kingslayer? [That last option would be troublesome. If his men would catch wind of this... In a way he would’ve let a bloody Lannister heir go, they would demand him to punish his lady mother in a more harsh way for that. But he dreads the idea more than anything in the world.

Being king has never stopped to be confusing.]

They would not be snide if you paid me more heed, Robb Stark.

[Was Tyrion's silky reply, before he folds his fingers together. Considering the younger man. He was pliable, that was certain. A good protect of Sansa and Bran as Tyrion could hope for. He was hopelessly lost as a ruler -- too much of his father in him, alas. No small wonder he allowed himself to be pulled into the Red Wedding.]

I am. Jamie cannot be the Heir to Casterly Rock -- he's the head of the Kingsguard. As much as my dearly departed father must regret it -- the title and the lands fall to me. [They were his, Gods be Damned. He'd take the land with three dragons and an angry Daenrys if he had to.]

[Well, Robb is not going to do that. He trusts Tyrion as far as he can throw him. The boy in him wants to believe that there might be a kind, peaceful solution to all of this, but the king does not allow that.]

And what would you do as the new heir?

[Would Tywin Lannister truly allow the Imp to have his castle? His lands? Would lords truly bend a knee to an imp? Would the Lannister queen allow such a thing?]

[Tyrion tipped his head at the other man, because it honestly wasn't going to take much to answer that particular question.]

Pull all support, financially, from the government until they acknowledge that Tommen should not be King. Send Tommen someplace safe, so he won't be assassinated for being a pawn in his mother's game of catspaw. Call for the execution of my sister and my brother for a number of treasonous crimes.

[He paused, thoughtful.] And if I could ever prove it -- get Littlefinger on the one of many crimes I know he has committed.

[It seems house Lannister is a problem that solves itself from the inside. For all the gold they can shit, they hate each other even more. Robb listens carefully but cannot help feeling amused by the Imp’s words.]

Then why haven’t you done so yet? Or did the Queen not allow you to?

[Probably the latter.]

[Whereas House Stark's problem lies in that they are too honorable to deal with all the problems that occur on the outside of them. Well, outside half of the younger set.]

The Queen has seen to it that until I remove her, I will not be able to seek my rightful inheritance. Beyond putting me on trial for the murder of my nephew -- a crime I only wish I had committed."

[It feels as if the world has gone on and on and he has been standing still all that time, only focusing on the war and making sure the North would have an heir. The amusement fades a little and the look on his face turns more solemn and brooding. Instead of answering he stays silent for a long time.

Why doesn't he know of this? He would get such ravens sooner or later.]

Gods be good. [Robb sighs and moves to sit back a little, busy processing everything Tyrion has told him.] I do not know of any of this. [He did not have many connections with King's Landing. Still, some of his other men had.] I have not received a raven. A letter. Joffrey has died and I know nothing.

[A pause.]

It is worrisome.

[Tyrion looked at the other man with a thoughtful look, as the other man stopped speaking. Watched him brooding this through.]

... Let us just say my Lord Stark, that you might just have something to worry about your intelligence. [He tilted up one eyebrow.] And worrying about how people are not passing you news.

[Well, Robb thinks nothing is wrong with his intelligence. Not necessarily. And he deadpans a little at Tyrion for that comment.

The news part, however, is worrying. He should pay more attention to that.]

I will hear of it soon. [It could very well be something odd with time, as Tyrion said earlier. A future, mayhaps. Something that happened when being held hostage here. This is a completely different world.] I take it you do also not know of everything that happens in the North.

[He looked at him, with a faint, and wry expression.]

I certainly hope so. [He sighed quietly, pressing one hand to his forehead, rubbing his face gently before he looks back at Robb.] No ... No I do not. I do not know how Bran survived.

[To be fair, he hopes so as well. It is worrying him and he cannot help this uncomfortable feeling in his gut. But it is something the Imp does not have to know.]

Do you know anything else except for Winterfell being put to the torch? [They must know that.]

[Hmmmm. Now here is a thoughtful bit of information.]

Perhaps I do know something of how it was betrayed, yes..

Tell me of it.

[The tone of his voice is a bit stern. Right between that of a king and a sixteen year old boy.]

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