AUTHOR'S NOTE: Here's chapter one folks. Like I said previously this is my first ASOIAF fic, so I hope I do this brilliant series at least a little bit of justice. I must admit, incest is not my thing at all, but Robb/Sansa is my definitive guilty pleasure, and I thought I'd give it a go but with a little twist.
PS, the Robb as a Baratheon aspect was inspired by this fic:
/works/429682 check it out!
I still own nothing. However I am in possession of a twitter account, KT_McC_ follow me and follow the progress of this fic! Or just follow me and see what a cool person I am!
Enjoy!
Robb
The procession had been moving onwards for what seemed like an eternity to Robb Baratheon. A keen rider, he would gladly have galloped well ahead of the seemingly endless line of people who had joined him, his family and their original retinue on their journey North.
Robb could tell his father was one in the same mind. King Robert Baratheon was a loud, exuberant man, who hid behind no false pretenses. He loudly cursed the slow pace at which they moved before turning to his second born son to share a bawdy joke in an attempt to keep his mind upon less frustrating issues.
Of all His Grace's children, Robb took after him the most. Black haired and blue eyed, Robb was the very image of his father when he had been a young man. His build and personality also matched his father's, albeit with a more reserved mind and mouth.
The three remaining children of Robert Baratheon travelled more comfortably in the large and extremely slow moving carriage which also housed his mother, Queen Cersei. Blonde haired and green eyed, Crown Prince Joffrey, Princess Myrcella and Prince Tommen were all Lannister to look upon.
Robert loved all his children well but had an easier time showing it to Robb, who shared the same thirsts and interests as his as his mother found it easier to shower Robb's siblings with love and admiration.
"How much time have we spent upon these roads, Father?" asked Robb, finally giving up on the hope of seeing Winterfell around the next corner turned.
"Too long, Robb. Too long," grumbled Robert Baratheon with a scowl on his face. "It has been 9 long years since I last laid eyes upon Ned, and I had hoped to reach Winterfell before Winter arrived."
"Surely it cannot be that much farther," insisted Robb.
"I wish I could answer that question my boy, but it seems a lifetime since I last travelled these Northern roads. I have no memory of these places, they belong in a different life," sighed the King of the Seven Kingdoms.
"Surely riding a little ahead of this column that plagues us would do no harm? It too seems a lifetime since I was able to ride and feel as though I had been given the gift of flight," argued Robb, knowing that with enough persuasion his father would glady gallop speedily beside his son.
King Robert did not answer for a moment, but seemed to give thought to the suggestion; he had always found it difficult to deny Robb anything, just as mother found it hard to deny anything to her eldest son.
Suddenly a devilsih grin lit up the King's face, making him look 10 years younger. Robb cherished those smiles; they had grown fewer and fewer as Robb grew up in King's Landing.
"Come my son, and I shall show you as best I can what kind of place the North truly is," his father boomed in that voice Robb loved so. "Barristan," called Robert, "my son and I yearn to once again feel the wind in our face. We shall ride ahead of the column."
"Aye, Your Grace," Barristan the Bold answered evenly. "I shall send Oakheart and Moore to accompany you."
"As you will," nodded Robert clearly unhappy at the thought of having more company than just himself and his son.
"What about Joff?" asked Robb. "Do you think he'd enjoy a ride?"
His father merely shrugged. "I see no harming in asking." The King turned to the two Kingsguard members who had rode upto flank the black haired Baratheons. "Moore, ask my eldest son if he would like to accompany myself and Robb on a ride."
Mandon Moore nodded stiffly before turning his horse and trotting back along then procession to find the Crown Prince.
"What are the Starks like?" Robb asked his father again, eager to know the people he would soon meet as well was able.
"I wish I were able to answer that," said Robert. "9 years is a long time. I'm sure Ned will be a different man to the one I left in Winterfell all those years ago. The same shall be said of my own self, no doubt. I do know, however, that Ned has a son the same age as you. Jon, his name is."
Robb perked up at the mention of another the same age as himself.
"Named after Jon Arryn he was," continued Robert fondly. "I'm sure you and the boy will get on. Joff will too, I pray."
"You've never been one for praying Father, why start now?" joked Robb.
"Joffrey is heir to the Iron Throne. He should be spending more time out in the courtyard with you practicing sword and lance and attending council meetings. Not hiding beneath his mother's skirts."
"Sometimes I think you are too hard on him," stated Robb. Joffrey did seem to prefer spending time with his mother than his father, but Robb found it difficult to judge him; he was guilty of spending too much time with his father, opposed to his mother.
"Sometimes I have to be Robb. Joffrey is my heir, he needs to learn to rule. If he is raised with the intention of ruling he'll do a damn better job than I ever have."
Robb could find nothing to say to that. Luckily he was saved the task of replying by the return of Mandon Moore:
"Prince Joffrey has opted to continue his journey in the Royal Carriage with his mother and youngest siblings, Your Grace."
"So be it," the King said simply before flashing Robb a sudden grin. "With any luck we shall reach Winterfell before a new day breaks."
Robb laughed as his father's own laughter brought them both to life. Urging his horse onwards, Robb began to make ground up on his father.
The King's booming laughter could still be heard even as he sped forward ahead of Robb. Mandon Moore and Arys Oakheart kept a respectful distance between the King and his son but even so, they too were required to gallop hard in order to keep up.
Robb could not tell how much time was spent riding at such speed before he saw his father's stallion begin to slow. Eventually the King brought his steed to a stop.
Breathless, Robb came to a stop beside his father. Breathing heavily, King Robert Barathon stared straight ahead, the emotion clearly visible in his blue eyes.
Turning his head, Robb inhaled sharply as he viewed Winterfell for the first time. He was stunned. Long had he assumed that King's Landing would be the greatest sight he would ever behold but Winterfell was able to amend this assumption immediately.
The gallop thus far had been mesmerizing. The North captivated Robb, as much as it seemed to captivate his father.
"What shall we do now Father?" Robb questioned, wondering if it was worth rejoining the column.
"We wait," his father replied simply. "I wish to commit this sight to memory so it may linger there for the remainder of my days."
Robb Baratheon sat steadily at the right side of his father, joining him in appreciating the sight of Winterfell before him. Even the sound of the first riders of the Royal procession coming up behind them was not enough to move father and son. Robb was able to tell immediately that this would be a memory with his father that would be remembered most fondly.
"Your Grace," began the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, "shall we continue on?"
"What? Yes, yes of course," the King responded, finally snapping out of his thoughts. "Fetch my eldest son, Selmy. Tell him he is to ride into Winterfell behind me. He is the Crown Prince of the Seven Kingdoms, and it's time he began acting like it."
"Of course, Your Grace."
"Robb, you shall ride behind your brother," ordered Robert. He suddenly clapped Robb on the shoulder. "You've done well today boy, you're a fine son to have." The genuine warmth in his father's voice stunned Robb. Robert Baratheon was not a man to show complex emotions. The true smile on his father's face and the pride in his voice was enough to rival the sight of The Maiden herself.
Joffrey Baratheon rode up to meet his brother and father with a bored look on his face. His sworn shield, Sandor Clegane, had already donned his fearsome Hound's helm.
Joffrey's golden curls shon in the days sun, but he said not a word as the procession began it's final journey to Winterfell. Robb suspected he was rather angry at having to leave the warmth and comfort of the Royal Carriage.
Robb began to feel absurdly nervous as he rode through the great Gate into Winterfell's centre. The way of life in the North could not be more different to the South. If he was honest with himself, he had already fallen in love with this Northen Kingdom. He did not want to bring shame upon himself or his family during their stay with the Starks.
Robb watched proudly as Robert Baratheon vaulted, almost youthfully, off his stallion. It seemed as though being back in the presence of his oldest and greatest friend only benefitted the King.
His father's loud laughter seemed to bounce off Winterfell's stone walls as he greeted Lord Eddard Stark by pulling him into a crushing hug. It may not seem so, but King Robert Baratheon had lost none of his most fabled strength.
As the King made his way along the line of Stark's, Robb took in each member of this Ancient House as his father did.
First was Lord Eddard. A serious looking man, Robb couldn't suppress his smile as he saw the stern mask crumble as he embraced Robert. Lord Eddard may be Warden of the North, but Robb was pleasantly surprised by his warm laughter.
Lady Catelyn Stark was a true beauty, Robb thought. Her face radiated elegance, her Tully red hair and blue eyes and fitting contrast to her husband's grey eyes and dark hair.
The youngest Stark child, Rickon, was no more than 5 years of age. Standing to the left of his mother, he too had the Tully look although his facial features were much more Stark than Tully.
Next was the first born son of Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn. Jon Stark was tall like his father, and truly had his look. As much as Robb was the son of Robert Baratheon, Jon was the son of Eddard Stark. As Robb caught the eye of the heir to Winterfell, he gave the lad a respectful nod, to which Jon gave his own in reply.
A flash of red caused Robb to look away from the Stark heir. His breath caught in his throat as Robb's eyes fell upon the eldest Stark daughter. This girl was Tully through and through, thought Robb. Red hair as vibrant as Robb had ever seen, and blue eyes to rival his own, Sansa Stark was the most beautiful girl Robb Baratheon had ever laid eyes upon.
He guessed that she could be no more that a year younger than he was, although admittedly she was tall. Is she looking at me? Thought Robb madly as Sansa's gaze shifted and a smile crept onto her face.
Out of the corner of his eye Robb caught a gleam of blonde. No, he thought. She admires the Crown Prince. Without hesitation, a scowl came to Robb's handsome face.
Joff smirked back at Sansa, as Robb looked on.
The shout from his father brought Robb out of his thoughts:
"Ned, take me to your crypts. I wish to pay my respects."
"We've been travelling for a month, my love. Surely the dead can wait," argued his mother, the Queen, who had emerged from the carriage as her Lord husband had introduced himself to the family of his oldest friend.
Robb was suddenly unsure of where to look. Why was his father in such a hurry to visit the crypts of Winterfell?
However, he had no time to dwell on this question. As soon as the King and the Lord of Wintefell disappeared from the courtyard, a stableboy appeared at Robb's side to take his horse from him.
Dismounting, Robb felt unsure of where to go. Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen had departed with their mother, leaving Robb alone.
The Starks too had dispersed. Lady Catelyn has ushered her daughters and youngest sons inside with herself, no doubt wishing to prepare them for the night's feast and celebrations.
Jon Stark, however, had remained in the courtyard. Robb made his way forward, intending to show the Stark heir every courtesy he had been taught. But Jon bet him in the race to introduce himself:
"Prince Robb," intoned Jon, bowing politely.
"Please, none of this Prince nonsense," insisted Robb. "Except in the presence of our mothers, perhaps. I do believe they will expect nothing but perfection from us."
Jon Stark laughed at that. "You speak truly."
"My name is Robb, that is all you need call me," the young Baratheon smiled.
"Then it is only fitting I return the favour. My name is Jon," came the reply from the eldest Stark as he reached out his arm.
Robb shook hands with Jon, feeling at ease with him already.
"Come, I shall give you a tour of Winterfell," smiled Jon.
The two young men made their way steadily around the great castle. They were able to share an easy raport with each other; their common interests and similar personalities making things much easier.
Jon regaled Robb with many of his youthful adventures with his siblings. Robb found himself feeling incredibly envious of the Stark family. Robb and his father had a great bond, and there was no doubt, that Tommen and Myrcella were the sweetest siblings Robb could have asked for, but it was his mother and elder brother that Robb had somewhat strained relations with.
His mother may be a Baratheon by marriage but Robb was fool; there was no love lost between his mother and father.
The Queen loved him, Robb knew, but it seemed as though she loved him least of all her children, while she loved Joffrey most.
And Joff himself was an arrogant twit at best. Robb had no qualms about thinking this, his brother had never showed him any sort of brotherly affection.
But that did not mean he did not love them.
With the Starks it could not be more different, they loved each family member equally and were truly close. Rickon was the baby of the family and even at 5 was still treated as such.
Bran was a climber, Jon told Robb, and knew Winterfell as well as anyone.
Sansa was the perfect lady; polite and kind to everyone she met.
Arya was no lady, Jon had chuckled. Many a time she had staged an escape from her embroidery lessons with Septa Mordane to come find her oldest brother out in the yard.
And the Lord and Lady of Winterfell could not have been more different to the King and Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. They held a true love for each other. It was this fact more than any other that Robb envied.
As the tour came to an end, only then did Robb and Jon realise what hour it was. Explaining in rushed voices that they must go and ready themselves for the welcoming feast, Robb and Jon went their seperate ways.
Almost before he knew it, Robb was preparing to enter the Great Hall of Winterfell. Lord Eddard entered first, escorting the Queen. His father then followed with Lady Stark on his arm.
The children then made their way into the Hall. Young Rickon went first. Robb moved to his right slightly to get a better view of the youngest Stark as he mustered enough dignity to complete his walk almost perfectly. A short stop in the middle to turn around and smile proudly at his siblings was the only incident. Robb had laughed loudly with Jon and the Starks at the sight.
Bran and Tommen walked side by side to join Rickon at the table. The young boys strode forward masterfully doing their respectives houses proud.
Robb was next up, and as the second son of Robert and Cersei, he was to escort the second daughter of Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn, Arya Stark, to the long table that had been set out below the High Table for the Stark and Baratheon children. Arya greatly amused Robb. She had a sharp wit and a mischievous streak in her which only endeared her more to Robb.
As he made his way towards the front of the hall, Robb had to fight to control his laughter; Arya was making the most peculiar noises, evidently trying to cause a Prince of the Seven Kingdoms to embarass himself in some way. Luckily, Robb was able to streer his partner quickly to their places before this laughter threatened to overcome him.
As Robb took his seat at the table he raised his head to watch the final two pairs make their way forwards. Jon accompanied his sister Myrcella who, much to Robb's amusement kept throwing shy glances towards the heir of Winterfell. Only Jon's small smile gave any indication that he was aware of these looks.
Finally, the Crown Prince of the Seven Kingdoms, Joffrey Baratheon entered the hall with Sansa Stark on his arm. Robb found himself staring at the Starks eldest daughter as she floated towards the dias. Wearing a gown of light blue, her eyes were accented perfectly and her red hair shone immaculately, complimenting Joff's golden curls. They made a truly radiant coupling Robb thought grudgingly.
As the Crown Prince, Joff took his seat at the middle of the 'children's' table, with Sansa seated to his left and Robb to his right. Arya sat to Robb's right side with Jon beside her and Rickon beside him. Robb had no doubt that Lady Stark had arranged the seating so Jon could keep an eye on her two most unruly children.
Sansa and Bran, however, had been seated amongst more royal company. To Sansa's left sat Prince Tommen, who had been seated beside his sister with Bran completing the table.
Behind Robb, a shout went up from his father and with that, the feast began.
Conversation on the left side of the table seemed courteous and polite, but Robb quickly eased into a japing banter with Jon and Arya. Rickon happily completed their group; the thoughts of the five year old soon breaking the three older individuals down in hysterics.
Their laughter was interrupted then by a servant who had brought a jug of wine to their table. "Courtesy of His Grace," the Winterfell servant said to Robb, Jon and Joffrey. Robb looked around at his father, finding him looking down at the young men seated so closely at the table. In truth, Joff had said not one word to anyone other than Sansa, but it seemed that the King had not noticed this. Catching Robb looking up at him, his father merely winked at him.
"Tell His Grace we thank him most humbly," Jon said graciously, already moving to pour himself a cup of the King's own wine. "Robb?"
"Yes, I'll have one," grinned Robb.
"I want one too," whined Arya, but Jon had enough sense not too risk the wrath of his lady mother.
"You've already had a cup Arya, and Father said no more than one." Jon spoke firmly, but his smirk gave away the game. "You can have another half cup and no more. And don't tell a soul."
"I'm not stupid Jon."
"I know you're not little sister," replied Jon fondly.
Robb watched the exchange with a small smile. As Jon and Arya settled into a comfortable silence and Rickon's eyes continued to droop Robb began to take in his surroundings.
He had no idea how long they had been sitting at the table for, but enough drink had been consumed for the men at the lower tables to be creating a suitable amount of noise. Even amongst everything, the laughter of King Robert Baratheon could still be heard above it all. It seemed as though the King had been sharing a joke with Robb's uncle Tyrion. Ridiculed by most at Court for his dwarfism, it gladdened Robb that his Father had always got along with his wife's youngest brother.
It was only now that Robb noticed that his mother was no longer sitting at the High Table. Lord Eddard was deep in conversation with his own brother, Benjen, while Lady Catelyn was watching the musicians play with great interest, but Queen Cersei was nowhere to be seen.
Scanning the hall, all the while knowing that he would find his Lady Mother nowhere, Robb picked up on the conversation taking place to his left.
"Is it true you are the most promising sword and lance in King's Landing, my prince?" Sansa asked breathlessly.
Joff laughed that arrogant laugh Robb knew so well. "It is true, sweet lady. Even my brother here dare not face me. Is that not so, dear brother?"
Robb considered his answer carefully before answering. "Truly, I have never faced my elder brother, my lady. Joff knows such a match would not poise a challenge."
The smile that appeared on Sansa's face at his answer was almost enough to make Robb glad of his brother's lies. Even if the smile was not for him.
As he answered, Robb heard snort's of laughter coming from his other side. Joffrey wasted no time in delving back into conversation with Sansa, boasting shamelessly about his fabled victories, leaving Robb free to confront the sources of the laughter.
"You're cleverer than you look, young Prince," joked Jon, as Arya and even little Rickon continued to laugh. Robb smiled at that, savouring his small win over his older brother. In his arrogance, Joffrey had not even clicked on to the true meaning of Robb's words.
The rest of the evening passed in a blur. Rickon was eventually coerced into going to bed by the Lady Catelyn before she returned to the Hall. By this time Robb and Jon had finished the jug of wine given to them by Robb's father, as well as two others, and both boys were feeling the full effects. Joff had declined to take even a single cup, even from his Father's own jug.
The dancing was in full swing by this point of the night; the Northern lords and ladies still able to stand eagerly stepping in time with this music. Seized by a sudden urge to dance, Robb made his way up to the High Table where Lady Catelyn had returned to her seat.
"Would you care to join me in a dance, my Lady? Robb asked politely, praying he was keeping everything together.
The Lady of Winterfell took his hand gladly. Robb noticed his Father and Lord Eddard looking at them with smiles on their faces.
Robb and Lady Catelyn moved together well; the older woman had a natural ability. As Robb laughed cheerfully with the lords and ladies around him, he noticed that Jon had also moved towards to the dancefloor with Myrcella on his arm. And even more shockingly the King had managed to put down his goblet long enough to offer Arya a dance. Jon and Robb looked at each other and chuckled as the King and Arya danced merrily in the centre of the space cleared for the dancing to take place. King Robert had no gift for dancing, but neither did Arya it seemed. They made quite a pair; their laughter as sweet as any tune.
When the music eventually came to an end, Robb was truly out of breath. Lady Catelyn thanked him graciously for the dance and informed him it was time she retired for the night, but not before telling him to stay and enjoy the celebrations with Jon for as long as he wished.
"Thank you, my lady. I have had a truly perfect night."
Out of the corner of his eye, Robb noticed Sansa and Joff still engaged in conversation. Or, rather, Sansa was still engaged in listening to Joff talk.
Well, almost perfect.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I hope you all enjoyed that somewhat! I know where I wanna go and mostly where I want to end up with this fic, but how long it's going to take me to get their is anyone's guess. I have work and stuff but I've started chapter 2 already and will hopefully be able to update soon. The plan is to write as much as possible so I've got updates to fall back on if I get to a point where I'm struggling.
That said, please kick my ass if I'm taking to long to update.
But there is chapter one for all you fine readers out there. Reviews a greatly appreciated, in any form. Feedback will only help!
Thanks for reading!
