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The Ebony Knight

Summary:

Robb Stark's decision to accept a wandering knight into his King's Guard may be one of the best decisions he ever made. But her past looms over her. Can he help her erase the damage to her name? And can she help save him from himself?

Chapter Text

A promise is a flimsy word, just as flimsy as the words you swear to when you make a promise. A promise to bring back food from the market can easily be swayed by a sweet roll. A promise to watch after the children can be lost to an afternoon nap. A promise tok marriage can be destroyed at an instant by a pretty whore with long legs.

An oath is something much more. An oath is engraved in stone from the moment the words leave your throat. You will be held to your words for the rest of your life as you called the Seven as your witness. The words you speak may as well be etched in to your skin for you will never forget them. An oath you cannot break, an oath you cannot escape.

Her crisp black armor bared almost no reflection of the fire. The heals of her boots chipped away at the splintered oak table.

"Another drink for ya?"

"Not tonight." The ale she had been nursing for well over an our, had grown flat and warm with only a few sips missing.She wasn't in the mood to drink tonight, an odd occurrence for the young woman.

Perhaps it was just the blood throbbing in her ears that she heard or perhaps there actually was hearing a fuss outside. It sound like a heard of cows were stampeding their way through the village.

"What in seven hells…" she lifted her sword from the table and strapped it to her belt. The locals crowded the windows, only a faint amber glow slightly visable between their heads. The rhythmic pound of boots against dirt grew countinouosly louder as she approached the door.

As she pushed her way out of the pud, she was almost blinded by the bright lights of the torches. Men, soldiers, thousands of them marching their way through the village.

"There! Over there!"

She didnt get a good look at any of them, no colors or idenifying banners or sigils, before 3 of them rushed her. She could only tell that they were not Lannister men.

"Drop the sword!"

She hadnt even drawn her weapon, much less made a threatening gesture. The hardly gave her a moment to process the demand before on of them practically jumped on her back. Upon insint she swiftly turned, driving her fist into the first thing it could find, his face. The other two men leapt on to her, throwing her to the ground while the other reeled back in pain. Then she was able to spot a mark on his armor. It was too dark to tell what house he was aligned with, but at least she could tell he was a captian.

"Aye, you'll pay for that one you bitch."

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She might as well have been a pampered VIP. The stripped her of her swors but not her armor. They held her as a captive but she was not restrained. They caged her but did not shove her in the same cage as the captured Lannister men. If anything, she was at least slightly grateful that she wasnt shoved into the same cage with the men that have been sitting in their own shit for weeks.

She was not there for long. An hour hadnt turned before the same men, the same captian that had wrestled her to the floor earlier in the night, had come for her.

"Lord want to speak to ya, would prefer to not have your pretty face busted when he sees ya." The Captian sneered. He spoke in a nasally voice, his face now begining to swell and bruise.

"Too bad you can't say the same for youself." She smirked.

The Captian's sly grin disappeared, two other men flooding the cage. Not so gently they seized her arms, dragging her from the cage. She could have resisted, the low burning pain in her elbows and shoulders advised against it.

They hauled her through the camp, past many of inappropriately staring soldiers, to a much larger tent.

"Any further to the southwest and we may attract too much attention…"

"Any further to the southeast and we'll be caught between rough terrain and Lannister patrols."

"Even so, Ashemark will be a strong foothold at the tip of their territory."

She assumed that these people gathered around a map table at the center of the tent were higher in the chaim of command, however they were not the center of her attention for long. She was more interested, more concerned about the massive wolf she had come face to face. A chill raced down her spine. A direwolf to be exact. His sharp yellow eyes bore into hers. He acknowledged her presence but remained seated.

The men laxed there hold slighly but still held her firmly in place.

One of the men facing the map table slowly turned to face her, inspecting the entirety of her as his eyes swept over her. The solid direwolf crest forged into his heavy chestplate confirmed her suspicion. Robb Stark, the King in the North. The older of the two women she could safely assume was Lady Catelyn Stark. The younger woman was too darker skined to resemble a Stark, she was most likely his wife or wife to be. Behind her was a knight in solid steal armor. Initially, for their height and physic, she assumed that the knight was a man. As she looked closer, she saw that it wasnt the case.

"Is this the one?"

"Aye, nasty bitch put up quite a fight." The captain stated.

"You'll watch your tongue before I make sure that your nose is broken."

Robb couldnt help but chuckle ever so slightly. Enough to draw her annoyance. "Dismissed."

His men stood there for a moment, most likely not recieving the answer they were expecting. Reluctantly they let go and left with their tails between their legs, but not without giving her a sharp shove forward.

She growled, rotating her shoulders to work out the stiffness they had pounded into her joints when they hauled her here.

"Aye, so you're Robb Stark?" She said. "King in the North or not you should know how to properly treat a lady."

He calmly placed his arms behind his back while slowly strooding over to her, eyes roaming over her armor. "My men say you gave them a bit of a fuss."

"They're lucky all I gave them was a bit of a fuss." She said. "Speaking of which I'll have my sword back, it's worth more than this damn village."

"I do apologize for the manner my men acted in, they can be a bit jumpy. This was Lannister territory. Some of their sellswords still could have been lingering." His eyes remained fixed on the armor plates of her shoulder. The find engraved divets in the plates gleamed in the candle light.

She scoffed. The vile thought never crossed her mind. She would never be that desperate, that hungry to stoop so low as to sell her skills for coin. She took it as an insult that he would dare use the word in her presence.

"Though… you don't look like a sellsword. They wouldn't be able to afford such a set of armor, even by a Lannister's pay." He said. "Excuse me, may I…"

She did not utter a word, only a slight not, her eyes remaining fixed on the floor. The King in the North removed a glove, lightly running his bare fingers over the icy plate. Ice cold to the touch, it's edges threatening to slice into his fingers even after being finely filed down and polished.

"Solid Ebony. You are the Ebony Knight that I've heard so much about." He said, the slightest hint of admiration in his voice.

Her heart leaped into her throat. She found it hard to swallow. Her eyes did not shift from the back of the tent. In her peripherals she watch Lady Stark lean over and whisper something to the other woman but did not openly speak.

"Depends, what exactly have you heard about the Ebony Knight?" She said.

"Rumours drift up from King's Landing from time to time. I've heard that many despised Robert Baratheon for taking a woman into his arms. I've heard that many thought her to be insane for strutting about one of the hottest places in Westeroes in solid black armor. I heard that her skills were practically unparalleled even by Knights twice her size.." He said.

The girl knew better. He didnt speak in such a conniving tone to just inflate her pride. He replace his glove strutting back to his original position behind the map table.

"I have also heard that you have a taste for desertion." He said leaning over the table, palms pressed flat against the wood, creaking under his weight.

She swallowed hard, head raising swiftly. Her cold eyes locked with his evenly colder stare. When ue said that rumors traveled from King's Landing, he wasn't lying.

"I will only ask this question once." He said. "Who are you?"

"I am she... the Ebony Knight. Alana Caster of King's Landing." She said.

The King in the North nodded only slightly, as if he already knew the answer to his question before he recieved it. His silent entourage finally broke their silence when the she-man knight spoke up.

"You?" She scoffed, venom dripping from her voice. " You are the 'noble' Ebony Knight? How 'noble' would your people consider you now if you returned home, if you dare call it that."

"Silence Brienne!"

Her words were caught in her teeth but still threathened to lash at Alana. The knight continued to glare daggers as she lowered her tone.

"Forgive me Lady Stark."

Alana's cheeks turned crimson as her eyes fell to the floor.

"So what have you been doing? Selling your sword for hire? Groveling in the sins of the common folk? Drinking away your sorrows?" Robb said almost tauntingly. "How much bloody coin do you hold because of your sword?"

"Do not insult me." She gritted through her teeth. "You embarrass me by flaunting my past, but do not insult my name by believing me to stoop so low."

His brow raised in surprise, take aback by the harshness of her outburst. He struck a nerve.

"Then if you aren't selling your sword, you have to be keeping food in your stomach some how." He said, his tone shifting from accusatory to inquiring. "Have you sworn yourself to anyone?"

Her eyes narrowed before falling shut. A defeated sigh fell from her lips.

"Well go on." He pressed the matter further. "Who's knight are you?"

"I…" she swallowed hard, the bile creeping up her throat threatening to over take her words. "… am No One's Knight."

He stared at her briefly. He was familiar with both names. Both originated from rumours in King's Landing. But as far as he knew before now, the two were completely seperate people.

They way she spat the words on the floor. The way her blood seemed to boil at the mention of the name. They way her skin crawled as she spoke the words, the name bared weight on her and she felt sick for it.

"The name burdens you." Robb stared down at the map for a brief moment.

"I will have to live with this name everday for the rest of my life" she hissed. "It's far more than a burden. It haunts me."

"Perhaps I can give you the opportunity to relieve yourself of that name." He said, standing up straight.

Her eyes grew softer, less sharp.

"How about I make you a deal, your sword will be returned to you and you may be on your way should you choose, no one will stop you." He said. "However, should you remain her until morning, I may have an offer that may interest you."

"I told you, I'm not a sellsword…" she ground the words between her teeth before spitting them at the proclaimed king.

"You will not stain your blade for coin, I can assure you that."