The alliance broke over wine and words.
Two days after the funerals, Robb Stark held a formal dinner for his remaining key allies. It was meant to be a strategy session to plan the march South, but the air in the Great Hall was so thick with unspoken rivalry it could be cut with a Dragonglass dagger.
Daenerys Targaryen arrived late, escorted by Grey Worm, who did not leave her side. She wore a black velvet gown, mourning the dead, but her eyes were cold and uncompromising.
The high table was set: Robb in the center, flanked by his sisters, with Daenerys and Tyrion on one side, and Andar and Jon Snow on the other.
"The time for mourning is past," Daenerys began, without preamble. "We leave for Kings Landing at first light."
"We are not ready for first light," Sansa said, pouring wine for the Queen. "The Unsullied need fresh water and rations. Our engineers are still loading the heavy guns onto the rail cars."
"I will not wait for your rail cars," Daenerys said, dismissing the North's technology with a wave of her hand. "The longer we wait, the deeper Cersei digs in. Drogon and Rhaegal are ready to fly. We will take the city by air."
"That is a recipe for disaster," Andar interjected. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Cersei has had weeks to prepare. She knows you are coming. She will have scorpions. And unlike the Night King, she does not fight fair."
"She has crude ballistae," Daenerys scoffed. "They barely scratched Drogon when they hit him at the Ruby Ford."
"The North has refined the design," Andar countered. "My team used high grade steel and coil springs. They can penetrate dragon hide at close range. If Cersei has even ten of them on the walls, flying low is suicide."
"Are you suggesting my victory is impossible without your toys, Lord Andar?" Daenerys asked, her voice dangerously smooth.
"I am suggesting that war is a matter of mathematics, Your Grace," Andar said. "You have immense power, but your surface area is large. We have precise, long range fire. We should combine forces. We use the railway to move the Flak guns to the mainland, and then you use your speed to breach the walls once our guns suppress the defense."
"No," Daenerys said, slamming her hand on the table. "No more joint plans. No more conditions. We are allies no longer the common threat is dead."
She stood up, drawing the focus of the entire hall.
"I am the rightful Queen. I have fulfilled my promise to save the North. Now, the North will fulfill its promise to serve its Queen."
She looked directly at Robb Stark.
"Robb, King in the North, I demand you publicly renounce your title and swear fealty to me. Kneel. We will march as one army, under one banner, to claim what is mine."
The hall fell into absolute silence. Every Northman looked at Robb, every Unsullied looked at Grey Worm.
Robb slowly pushed his chair back and stood up. He did not look at Daenerys. He looked at the faces of his lords the Greatjon, the Karstarks, the Umbers, and then at Sansa, who gave him a small, unwavering look.
"Daenerys," Robb said, his voice quiet but carrying across the room. "The North bends the knee to no one. We voted for our freedom. We fought for it. We died for it."
"Then you will die again!" Daenerys screamed. The calm mask shattered. "You are just another rebel! Just like Robert! Just like your father! You were nothing before me!"
"We were something before you arrived, and we will be something after you leave," Andar said, rising to stand beside Robb.
"Your choice, Your Grace," Andar continued, addressing Daenerys directly. "You can be Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, or you can be Queen of the Ashes. If you attack the North, we will defend it. And we will not fight with swords."
"Grey Worm," Daenerys commanded, not taking her eyes off Robb. "Arrest them both. Robb Stark for treason, and the Engineer for threats against the Crown."
Grey Worm stepped forward, his spear held low. The remaining Unsullied formed a line at the doors.
"You cannot," Tyrion Lannister cried out, rushing between Grey Worm and the Starks. "We just finished fighting the dead! You cannot start a war with the only people who trust you!"
Daenerys ignored him. "One chance, Robb. Kneel."
"I am sorry," Robb said, genuinely pained.
Suddenly, a loud, high pitched siren wailed from the courtyard.
Wooooo eeeee! Wooooo eeeee!
The sound was alien, sharp, and modern. It was the signal Andar had rigged up to his emergency generators a clear air raid siren.
"Stand down, Unsullied," Andar said, tapping the silver whistle on his chest. "That sound means something has gone wrong in the air."
Daenerys spun toward the courtyard. "What is that noise?"
"It is my air defense warning," Andar said, stepping past Tyrion. "It detects large, fast moving objects. And right now, it is picking up the signature of three dragons. Flying South."
Daenerys looked confused, then horrified. "My dragons are in the stables!"
"No," Andar said. "Two of them are, but Drogon is restless. He is territorial. And he is following the most obvious source of food."
He pointed to the sky.
"Cersei didn't wait for us, Daenerys. She saw the storm lift, and she realized the only threat left was you. She sent a decoy to lure your most powerful weapon out of the North, and she has prepared a reception for him."
Andar walked to the door. "Drogon is flying into a trap in the Riverlands. If you want to save him, you'd better go now."
Daenerys looked at the door, then back at Robb and the unflinching look of the Northmen. She had to choose between power and love.
She made her choice.
"Tyrion," Daenerys snapped. "You have five hours to get the Unsullied on the road. We ride South. Grey Worm, with me. We save Drogon."
She ran out the door, her fury channeled into action.
As the Unsullied exited, Jon Snow walked up to Andar. "Was that true? Did you know Drogon was flying South?"
"Of course not," Andar whispered, pulling a wire from his pocket that led to the siren. "I just needed a big distraction to get her out of the room before she ordered a massacre."
He turned to Robb.
"We have five hours before she realizes she doesn't have air superiority and turns around. We need to beat her to the capital."
Robb nodded, understanding the gravity of the task. "Get the trains loaded, Andar. We are not marching anymore. We are shipping."
[Quest Started: The Race for the Ruin]
[Rival: Daenerys Targaryen (Hostile)]
[Time Remaining: Critical]
[Next Action: Move Heavy Artillery South]
The final war for the continent would be fought not on the battlefield, but on the railways.
....
Author Note
Hi guys! Thank you for reading my fanfiction.
I have the rest of the fanfiction on my Patreon.
[email protected]/vislan_95
replace @ with a