27. A Tale For Two

                                    

                                          
Robb Stark was sitting in a bedchamber in Winterfell, it's dull grey walls seemed cold and stoic, watching the grim situation in the room.
                          
Robb's jaw was tight, and his eyes were glistening as he looked on at his brother. Bran hadn't woken up. His unconsciousness was taking a toll on his heart, weakening it, weakening him. The sweet boy lay with his eyes closed, his body unmoving, like a beautiful statue that would never come to life again. 
                          
Robb's hand squeezed the warm brown fur of the blanket that covered him, and he felt it's softness, his fingers stroking it again and again. Robb's other hand clutched a letter, a small parchment. The raven had come early in the morning from King's Landing, and the news it had brought had changed everything for him.
                          
My dear son Robb, 
                          
I write to you in times of urgency and danger. Cersei and Jaime Lannister were discovered to practice incest between themselves, with the royal children being bastards born of their affair. 
The King has slipped into a comatose state, and we haven't been able to pinpoint it's cause or it's cure. Tyrion Lannister has accused your sister Irida of murdering Jon Arryn. She has been kept in the dungeons ever since.
House Lannister is currently at odds with the Crown. There is a war coming. Gather the North, I need you by my side.
                          
Yours sincerely, 
Lord Eddard Stark
Hand of the King
                          
The small piece of parchment was extremely fragile, it's frayed edges that had become so in their journey to the North and it's body, which has been squeezed dry of blank space by the cramped handwriting. And yet, it had completely turned his world upside down.
                          
Catelyn Stark sat opposite to him, holding Bran's palm. The scars on her hands from the assassin's knife hadn't faded completely, she didn't want them too. It was a reminder, she thought. A reminder that the Lannisters were the one's who tried to take her son's life. A reminder that the Lannisters were the reason that Bran would be crippled if he ever wakes up. They had destroyed his life. She would never let the scar fade away. 
                          
"Bran had seen Cersei and Jaime Lannister in the Broken Tower. That was his mistake. They pushed him and down he fell." Catelyn whispered, her eyes swollen. "Then Tyrion Lannister and that hellish bastard tried to kill my boy. All because he wanted to climb high."
                          
Robb jerked his head up. "Irida? What are you saying, Mother?"
                          
Catelyn's motherly face hardened, changing in front of him. Gone were her motherly tears, replaced by pure rage. Controlled, hot rage. Clenching her teeth, she said, "Why do you think Tyrion Lannister called her to King's Landing? How do we know that she isn't working for the Lannisters? How do we know that the reason Bran isn't waking up is because she poisoned him?"
                          
Robb battled her glare. No, she was his sister. She would never harm Bran. Catelyn let out a short mocking laugh.
                          
"Robb, you know how she incapacitated that assassin so easily. Poison. Do you know where she had really been all these years? Who she really works for?"
                          
Her question rang out in the air uncomfortably.
                          
"I don't believe that." He stood up abruptly, balling up his fists. "Our enemies are the Lannisters, not Irida.
I know you hate her, but that doesn't give you any right to blame her for all that has happened. Irida knows what's right, and she's one of us, whether you like it or not."