The crowd in the Banquet Hall had finally trickled out into the cold night air, leaving the high room to the shadows and the two men at the center.
Robb Stark took off his bronze-and-iron crown and tossed it onto the heavy oak table. It landed with a dull, heavy thud, vibrating through the wood like a spent heartbeat. To Robb, it wasn't a symbol of majesty at that moment; it was a heavy, biting hat that he had worn for too long. He rubbed the red indentations the metal had left on his brow, his face looking weary and vulnerable in the dying torchlight.
He descended the platform slowly, his boots scuffing the stones, and sat opposite Eddard. A servant appeared from the gloom to place a flagon of white wine on the table. Robb filled two cups, his movements mechanical.
For a long time, the King of the North sat in silence, staring into the pale liquid. He had questions, dozens of them. He wanted to know how Eddard had seen through a conspiracy that had fooled the greatest lords of the Riverlands. He wanted to know how a second son of Karhold had developed the foresight of a maester and the ruthlessness of a conqueror. But as he looked at Eddard, he found he didn't know how to ask.
"Ned," Robb finally said, a faint, tired smile touching his lips. "You've worked a miracle. If you hadn't seen the rot in this house, if you hadn't secured the Twins... I truly don't know where we would be. Likely dead in our cups, and the North lost before we even reached the Neck."
Eddard raised his wine glass and took a slow sip, his eyes fixed on Robb. Then give me something for my trouble, he thought privately. You're heading North to hunt the Leech. You can't take the Earl of Golden Tooth with you across the marshes. It's time to let your lords settle their lands.
Eddard was also waiting for the [System] to react. Usually, a change in title or status would trigger a notification, but his vision remained clear. Perhaps the announcement needed to be official.
"It was just luck, Your Majesty," Eddard said aloud, his tone humble. "The gods protect the Starks."
"No, it wasn't luck," Robb said, shaking his head. "You insisted on guarding the Twins. You pushed for it when everyone else wanted to march for the Tooth. You saw something the rest of us missed. Why?"
Eddard smiled and leaned back. "When I suggested the Tyrell marriage and you turned it down, I knew we were in trouble. I couldn't say it then, you were bound by a Frey contract. But I knew Walder the Late. A man who only shows up after the victory is won is not a man who can be trusted with a King's rear. I had to secure it myself."
Robb let out a long, dejected sigh. "I should have listened. With the Tyrells, we would be sitting in the Red Keep by now. Tywin would be in a cage, and the war would be a memory. Instead, I almost led us into a slaughter like a foolish wild boar."
Robb looked at Eddard with a mix of awe and frustration. Everything Eddard had warned him about had come true. The Ironborn. The Frey betrayal. The Lannister-Tyrell alliance.
"Ned, you see things others don't," Robb said, his voice dropping. "Without you, I can't even imagine this war. Why didn't I listen?"
"It's in the past, Robb," Eddard said, though he noted the King's sentimentality. The lords of the Riverlands had clearly taught the young Wolf a lesson in politics that he wouldn't soon forget.
"Maybe. But the future is what worries me," Robb said. He drained his cup in three massive gulps, the wine flushing his face a deep red. "My father once said: 'When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives.' I have to go North. I have to save Bran and Rickon from the Boltons and the Krakens. But I can't take the whole army. And I can't trust the Riverlands to hold themselves together while I'm gone."
He looked Eddard in the eye, his gaze hazy but resolute. "Brynden is the Marshal of the South, but the Riverlords don't fear him. They respect him, but they don't fear him. They need a deterrent. They need someone who can grasp their hearts and squeeze when necessary."
Eddard raised an eyebrow. "And you think I'm that man?"
"I know you are," Robb said. "I'm giving you the Twins, Ned. Forget the Golden Tooth, it's a border fortress, a rock. The Crossing is the heart of the Trident. It has the bridge, the wealth, and the location. I want you to rule here. Hold the rear. Keep the lords in line while I clean up the North."
Eddard's mind immediately began to calculate the pros and cons. The Twins was a goldmine. Between the bridge tolls and the fertile plains, it had ten times the development potential of the Golden Tooth. It was the ultimate strategic hub.
"I accept, Your Majesty," Eddard said. Still, no system notification.
Robb refilled his glass. "There won't be a ceremony. We march at dawn. I'll send ravens from Winterfell once the Neck is secure. But that's not all."
Robb paused, his expression shifting into something more personal, more weighted. "I plan to marry Sansa to you."
Eddard nearly choked on his wine. He leaned back, his body tilting instinctively as if trying to dodge a physical blow. "Sansa?"
"She loves the South," Robb said, unaware of Eddard's internal panic. "She loves the poetry, the songs, the dancing. The North is going to be cold and bloody for a long time. She belongs here, in the Riverlands. And she belongs with someone I can trust."
Eddard's mind raced. Sansa Stark. The girl with the late-stage romantic obsession and a "love-brain" that had already caused enough trouble in the original story. Robb, I've helped you survive, but this is a different kind of punishment, he thought.
"And," Robb continued, his voice growing thick with wine and exhaustion, "I am making a will. If anything happens to me in the North, Sansa will inherit the title of Queen of the Trident. You will be her Regent. You will rule the Riverlands in her name. I'll leave the North to Bran, but he's only eight. He'll need you too."
"Robb, don't talk like that," Eddard said, trying to steer him away from the morbid talk of wills. "You're sixteen. You have a lifetime ahead of you."
"I have a war ahead of me," Robb corrected him. "The lords won't object. As long as I am the Lord of Winterfell, they'll follow my decree. And the Riverlords? They just want a strong leader. It can be me, it can be you, or it can be Tywin. Right now, you're the strongest man they know."
Eddard considered the political reality. Robb was right. The Riverlands were a collection of bickering houses that only unified when threatened. They needed a "Hand" in the South.
"And your mother?" Eddard asked. "What does Lady Catelyn think of this?"
Robb's eyes dimmed. "She stays in Riverrun. She won't return to the North for a while. She... she tried to release Jaime, Ned. For the sake of the girls. If the young Jon hadn't stopped her, the Kingslayer would be halfway to King's Landing by now. That woman, Brienne... she took Jon's hand in the struggle. If my mother hadn't begged me on her knees, I would have hanged the Tarth woman from the walls."
Eddard sat in silence. The betrayal of a mother for her daughters was a story he knew well, but seeing it play out in this timeline was a reminder of how fragile the "pack" really was.
"Sansa is still in King's Landing, Robb," Eddard reminded him. "Shouldn't we wait until she returns before we speak of marriage?"
"No," Robb said firmly. "I am the head of the family. I have made the match. It's done."
Eddard sighed, nodding in resignation. "Then so be it. My father will be happy to hear he's joining his house to the Starks."
"Good." Robb pushed a letter across the table. "Tywin sent this. He wants a truce. He says he's sending envoys to Riverrun to discuss a prisoner exchange. He thinks he's lulling me into a false sense of security while his trap at the Twins snaps shut."
Robb smiled, a cold, predatory expression. "He doesn't know you've already dismantled the trap. I'm sending a raven back. I'll tell him if he wants to talk, he sends his men here. To the Twins."
Eddard looked at the letter. "You want me to handle the negotiations?"
"I don't have time to dicker with Lannisters, Ned. I have to save my brothers. I'm taking Jaime with me to the North as a guarantee. The rest? The exchange of the other prisoners, the terms of the peace... I leave it to you."
Robb stood up, swaying slightly. "I trust you, Ned. Handle the Lion. I'll handle the North."
Eddard watched his King walk away, his shadow long against the torchlit stones. He was now the Lord of the Crossing, the betrothed of Sansa Stark, and the de facto ruler of the South.
[System Notification: Title Acquired: Lord of the Crossing.]
[Quest Completed: Secure the Rear.]
[Soul Power Gained: 500 SP.]
[New System Feature Unlocked: Dominion Management.]
"The burden just got a whole lot heavier," Eddard whispered to the empty hall.
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