Robb Stark POV

 

It had been three weeks since the raven had reached Joffrey on the young wolf’s movements. He and his army had marched tirelessly to reach Kings Landing as fast as he could. He left behind four thousand of his men to keep Tywin Lannisters from pursuing, mostly his Riverrun forces led by his uncle Edmure. He left his mother back in Riverrun under the protection of her brother and the black fish, just in case things went bad. Currently he had his own personal forces from Winterfell as well as House Glover, House Karstark, House Umber, House Bolton, and House Hornwood and all their banner man. 

 

He had roughly fourteen thousand men at his command, which should’ve been more than enough to take the two thousand city guard and few Lannister soldiers inside. He hoped Joffrey would simply surrender like the spineless coward he was and give him back his father and sisters. Though he knew it wouldn’t be that easy, the spoiled fake prince was used to getting what he wanted so admitting defeat would be a foreign concept to him. As they reached the clearing on the kings road, Robb could see the city walls over the horizon. Soon he would batter down those walls and reclaim his family from the lion’s maw.

 

“Just hold on a little longer.” He thought desperately as he and his commanders rode their horses towards the gate.

 

Though once they came close enough to the city the sight that greeted them left him and his war council flabbergasted. There were roughly two thousand men in black tinted steel plate armor with gold accents. They held medium size shields with long strange looking pikes. They were tightly packed in line formations with their backs almost completely against the city walls and their flanks covered on both sides. Along the top of the wall were large and small looking scorpions with even more men standing at attention. 

 

Robb and his men didn’t know how to make heads or tails of the situation. They had never expected for Joffrey to be willing to meet them outside the safety of the city’s high walls. As they began to talk among themselves on what they should do, two men on horses came riding toward them. They wore the same strange black armor as the other soldiers but flew the white flag of parley. Robb gestured to his men to stand down and allow them to approach. The men trotted straight up to Robb and his war council before speaking.

 

“Greetings Lord Stark, our king has been expecting you.” One said with a serious tone.

 

“That's your grace to you southern dog.” Great Jon spoke out his voice heavy. 

 

“The seven kingdoms know only one true king and he is the one we serve.” The man responded unafraid of the giant man.

 

“Why you impudent little-” but before he could finish Robb interjected. 

 

“For what reason has your king sent you?” He was unwilling to tolerate pointless squabbles with his father and sisters at stake. 

 

“Our king wishes to parley with you in person.” He responded, delivering his message. “ He seeks to reach a peaceful resolution.”

 

“I bet he does.” Laughed great Jon followed by the other lords ridiculing the royal guards who remained unfazed by their taunts.

 

“What does he propose?” Robb asked.

 

“He would like to set up tents on neutral ground and discuss peace terms there. Only you and your personal guards will be permitted to attend. He swears to do the same.” The Royal guards delivered Joffrey’s suggestion.

 

Robb pondered the idea for a moment weighing all of his options. After a brief period he finally spoke.

 

“I accept.” He said seriously. “Though I will send men ahead to check for any traps before I set foot inside.”

 

“Of course, my lord.” One said irritating the north lords again. “The tents will be set up by this afternoon, you can send your men then.” They said before turning around and riding away on their horses back towards the city.

 

Once they were gone the north lords began to talk among themselves.

 

“Why are we even bothering discussing with them?” Lord Karstark asked. “We outnumber them seven to one.”

 

“I agree, let's water the ground with their blood then knock the gates down.” Great Jon agreed not wanting to waste time talking when they could just fight.

 

“Why so they can cut my father’s and sister’s throats before we even get inside then escape by ship?” He asked, reminding them they hadn’t brought a fleet with them so they couldn’t hold the bay. 

 

Their original plan was for them to surround the capital and wait for Theon to bring his father’s ships. They would blockade the bay while they held the land.

 

“Lets just see what they have to say before we make any rash decisions ok?” He said, trying to calm his hot blooded men.

 

Though Robb meant every word he said, he was actually a little wary of these black armored soldiers. They wielded weapons he had never seen before, and could tell with one look they were well trained and organized. The way they stood with their backs against the wall and sides covered on both sides that the only way to attack would be from the front making flanking impossible. Not to mention the various strange looking scorpions on the walls. He figured they could defeat them but not without sustaining considerable casualties on their end. 

 

The Lords ultimately agreed with only Lord Karstark visibly angry at the situation. He had lost both his sons, once in the battle against Jaime and then later against the Mountain. He wanted vengeance on all the Lannisters for the loss of his son and killing the blonde little shit king would be the perfect start. Though for the moment he decided to obey his king and hold his tongue.

 

Joffrey POV

 

It was already past midday when the men finished setting up the parley tents. They were set up on natural ground out of reach for either man’s army. Robb had been true to his word and had sent scouts to survey the tents in case of foul play, before riding there with his war Councillors. Joffrey had waited an hour before assembling his kingsguard and exiting the city to meet him. It was a negotiation tactic to establish dominance with the enemy. Truly Joffrey didn’t want to have to fight his future brother in law, but he knew how stubborn and self righteous northerners were since he had to deal with Ned on a regular basis.

 

The gates slowly opened and Joffrey and his men rode out. He was accompanied by all his kingsguard each wearing their new spring steel armor he had made for them. The armor affords even more protection than their previous set, as well as an increased mobility and speed. It was the same type of armor his royal guards used but instead of night black they were pearl white chased with gold lining. 

 

Joffrey himself wore his own set of personal armor. It was pitch black like his royal guard but much more distinguished, with a golden lion's face decorated his breastplate, along with his pauldrons and bracers. He wore a crimson shroud displaying his house's colors. He knew technically he was supposed to be a stag but he had no interest in relating to a drunk unless necessary. On his head he wore his simple but elegant crown, a round circlet of gilded steel with square cut rubies inside.

 

As he and his men rode out the royal guards parted ways in their formation allowing them through. As soon as they passed by the men fell back into formation and stood at attention awaiting their king's command. Joffrey had Jacelyn hang back on his horse at the rear to give command should talks go south. They stopped at the head of the army and paused, Joffrey looked out over the northern men who seemed prepared for battle. After briefly looking to his right at Ser Barristan who gave him an encouraging nod, did they continue forward. The men rode until they arrived before the giant tents. They dismounted their horses and made their way to the tents.

 

Two of the guards walked ahead and opened the curtains for Joffrey who walked inside accompanied by his entourage. As he made his way inside he found the young wolf standing on the other side of the table surrounded by the members of his war council. He was a young man who appeared to be a few years older than himself. He had a stocky but well built figure, with deep blue eyes, and reddish brown hair. He was dressed in mail armor, with a surcoat and white cloak over top. He held a long sword and dagger at his sides.

 

Though his most distinguishable feature was the crown atop his head. It was a bronze circlet surmounted by nine black spikes in the shapes of long swords. He remembered it was meant to resemble the crown of winter in the times before Aegon the conqueror, when the Starks were still kings. Personally Joffrey thought it was an ugly looking thing, and couldn’t possibly be comfortable to wear.

 

“Greetings Lord Stark, thank you for coming all this way.” Joffrey said, flashing him a smile and giving him a slight nod of the head as a sign of respect. 

 

Though Robb just looked at him with a face filled with surprise along with his fellow lords. He hadn’t seen the blonde little shit prince in a little over a year but he was completely different than the last time he saw him. He was a few inches taller than him now, his scrawny frail frame was now well muscled and lean. His hair reached his neck and flowed seamlessly and glistened like beaten gold. That combined with his astonishing armor, gave him a very illustrious appearance. Robb knew immediately that this wasn’t the same spoiled little shit he’d met in Winterfell. 

 

“This here’s the one true king in the north.” Bellowed Great Jon who was the first to regain his composure. “Speak to him with respect, ya blonde hair little shit.”

 

Barristan and his fellow Kings guard became furious at the giant oaf's words. He gripped the hilt of his sword. He was prepared to draw before a hand reached out and stopped him. Joffrey held his forearm and gave him a serious look, causing Barristan to relent and to back down. Joffrey then turned his attention to the giant man who had spoken.

 

He was a giant of a man and as wide as a door frame. He was even taller than Sandor but shorter than the mountain. His body was heavily muscled with giant hands the sizes of hams, with one missing two fingers. He wore a suit of mail with heavy boiled leather armor atop it, at his side he carried the biggest and ugliest swords he had ever seen. Joffrey recognized him as great Jon Umber one of the strongest fighters in the seven kingdoms. 

 

Robb broke out of his daze and gave Jon a reprimanded look for his words. He then addressed the golden king before him.

 

“I’ve come to see justice done for the crimes committed against my family. I’ve united all the men of the north and brought them to your gates for this purpose alone.” 

 

“Yes I can see that.” Joffrey responded calmly and stoically. “I assume we are here to discuss terms of surrender then?”

 

“Indeed, you can still save your city, young king.” Lord Bolton spoke up, getting Joffrey’s attention.

 

He was a rather unremarkable man by all regards. His frame was small and slim, not scrawny but not muscular either. His only noticeable feature was his strange eyes, which were paler than stone and darker than milk. The eyes of a cunning predator Joffrey thought to himself.

 

“I have two requests, if granted none of your men need to die.” Robb spoke up. “First you are to hand over my father and sisters to me, along with any northerners still in your custody. Second you are to renounce all claims to dominion over the north. From this time to the end of time we are a free and independent kingdom.”

 

“The king in the north.” The lords muttered softly.

 

Joffrey chuckled to himself hearing the lord's words who then looked at him confused.

 

“There’s obviously been some miscommunication, we’re here to discuss your surrender not mine.” He said with a condescending smile.

 

The north lords all grew angry at Joffrey’s provocative remark.

 

“Are you deaf or just dumb boy king!?” Great Jon bellowed “If you had bothered to look from the safety of your high walls you’d see fourteen thousand soldiers at your gates!”

 

“They’ll be fourteen thousand corpses before the day is done.” Joffrey responded unfazed. "Don't try to frighten me old man."

 

“Why you insolent little-” But before he could continue to speak Robb raised his hand silencing him. 

 

“If you didn’t come here to surrender, then why come at all?” Robb asked curiously his tone still serious.

 

“The same reason you did, curiosity.” He responded. “We’ve vexed each other for months now but haven’t once spoken a single word to one another.”

 

“It's unlikely they would make any difference.” He responded flatly 

 

“Perhaps” He pondered. “Yet I would still have them.”

 

Joffrey then drew his broadsword, which was quickly followed by his kingsguard. Robb Stark’s men then drew their swords ready to fight. Then Joffrey flipped the sword and handed it to Ser Barristan who looked at him surprised.

 

“Leave us.” He ordered.

 

“Your grace, you shouldn’t-” He wanted to protest but was interrupted by his king.

 

“Fall to command and wait outside.” He said sternly not leaving room for argument.

 

Robb and his men looked surprised before Robb repeated Joffrey’s action and handed his long sword to great Jon. He gave the giant a nod of the head to which he acknowledged. The two kings men then exited the tent leaving the pair alone. They stared at one another intensely trying to discern the other’s intentions. In this tent on this day two kings had been brought together to make a choice that would forever shape the history of Westeros.

 

“Now then king Robb would you like a drink?” He asked with a smile.

 

"Huh?" Robb asked stunned.