ALOHA READERS! I'm back and it's time for some fun stuff... :) With fall arriving I got some ideas and VOILA here it it! Hope you like it and please comment and tell me what you think of it! :) X
Robb:
He was alone, surrounded by an empty field that went on for thousands of leagues. The grass had turned dry and bitter. A leaf flew towards him, a red one.
His father always called them heart trees. More leaves blew, so he follow them. The horizon was empty, Robb just kept walking til he could find something.
He finally stopped, only to catch his breath. His eyes shut for a second, not even and there it was. The grey stones of Winterfell, unchanged and thriving, before he went south.
Robb opened his mouth to laugh and a gust of wind flew through him. He charged wanting to walk through the gates and see them again, but he knew he wouldn't.
The gates were untouched, he was so close he could almost hear the howling of a wolf. His fingers went towards the stone, and they went right through. Robb's arms were wet, and water rippled in the reflection of Winterfell.
His mind was tricking him, he should have known it wasn't real. Robb crashed his arms into the stones wanting them to hurt, to know it was real. Only the water splashed back at him, and Winterfell collapsed.
Smoke rose from the towers, burning through the walls and turning to ash. The towers that stood as high as the clouds collapsed. The only thing he could hear was screams, so many voices.
"Don't you want to teach little Ned Stark to ride horses?" He knew that voice. Robb would have smiled to that voice. He wanted to walk away, but he would never, not to her.
She looked the same, not a day went by, she still looked so beautiful. Her hair had a messy braid brushed through it, and an apron wrapped around her covered in blood. He wanted to chuckle, that was what she looked when they met.
Robb walked forward, to see the babe she cradled with her. It gurgled happily, it was so small and frail like glass. He stretched his arms to see him, to see Talisa, only he was pushed back.
He tried to walk, only walls, a mirror seperated them. Robb was fuming with anger, he was tired of all the tricks. He threw his fists against harder, waiting for glass to pierce through his skin.
Robb wanted it all to be real, he wanted to feel actual pain not for it all to be a hallucination. The glass cracked, only his hands didn't bleed. He wanted something to happen, anything at all.
He fists slammed and thrusted until ice and snow went falling down on him. Robb wiped the snow out of his eyes, and his shirt was wet. It was dripping with blood. His head turned up, and soon he regretted doing that.
Her stomach bled again, the same bloody clothes and the same lifeless face. Robb remembered his exact movements, he fell to his knees to catch her.
He pressed his hands onto her, to stop the blood. There was no wound, just more blood. Robb cradled her again, just like she cradled their baby. He lowered his head to her hair, she looked so real.
"You said you'd come home." A voice echoed. Robb turned quickly to see no one. He realized looking down, Talisa was nowhere and her blood that laid on his hands was gone. It wasn't enough time, he finally saw her and she was taken away again.
"You said you'd bring her home. Both of them, and now they're dead." The air whispered to him again. It was so small, like a childs. Robb turned and the voice spoke again.
"They're dead, they're all dead." A boy stared back at him. His face was disfigured, skin flayed til it turned pink. Robb could only see the bright blue eyes looking back at him.
"What are you?" His voice was unsettling looking at the boy. He wore furs of the North, but he didn't look highborn. The boy's hair was ragged and longer, he had the looks of a wildling.
"How could you not remember? Look at me, look at me!" His whole body shook, and he tried running into Robb. His peeled face staring back at him with sadness.
The boy's ears tilted slightly like a rabbit. He panicked and starting running. "They found me you have to help me! Help me!" He screamed almost choking on his own words. He started running straight until he stopped to look at the sky.
A rain of arrows were being shot down on them, only none hit Robb. The boy started running to Robb. He ran straight towards him, the arrows were getting closer to hitting him.
Robb reached his hand to pull the boy forward, he was so close. They could almost touch fingertips. The arrow pierced straight through him, blood filled into the boys mouth. He was so young, not even a man yet.
Robb put his hand on his chest, trying to stop the blood from gushing out. There was so much his hands turned a deep crimson. Robb could hear the his last gasp of air from his lungs, and he knew it was too late.
He looked away for a second and the boy was gone, but ice blue eyes stared back at him. Rickon looked so old, but he was different. He was frozen like a statue, and his eyes were monsterous and scale as pale as curdled milk.
The arrow still stood in his chest still, Rickon pulled it out with no pain doing it. His head turned to Robb, marched forward and stared at him. He stretched his arms and wrapped them around his neck.
Robb gasped and gagged, but he was too strong. Whatever it was it wasn't his brother. His hands tightened and Robb's head felt it would pop like a berry being squeezed.
He felt so dizzy, his arms were going weak and they last things he saw were the his brother's frozen face and the cry of a dragon flying towards them.
"Rob-" Something grabbed him, his instincts were to grab his sword and he did. He swung and clashed against bark of the tree. Arya backed away quick enough before his blade would hit her.
She gasped and had a look of confusion and anger. She took two steps back from him, his sister didn't trust him. "What is wrong with you?! You were falling behind and I came to get you!"
It all seemed so real. He touched his neck, no marks or bruises. "I'm sorry... I didn't think this was real..." His voice was so slow and dry.
"Real?! You think THIS isn't real? Look around, this is real life. People die if you act stupid!" She kept hitting him until Robb held her hands. Arya was still smaller than him.
Arya was right, very. She never told him much about where she had been all this time or what she had seen. His sister seemed broken in a way.
Her grey eyes softened to him. "We're getting close. I heard them talking about camps nearby." She murmered. Arya turned back and walked forward, Gendry waited ahead for her.
They were finally there, all the times he spent wanting to come home he would be soon. Only Winterfell and it's people are gone, now it's filled with traitors and bastards. The Boltons and the rest of the North would know they're here soon.
The camp was small, no one stopped them from entering. Wildlings filled most of the land, he could tell by their furs. The flayed boy wore the same in his day dream.
A man the size of GreatJon stared at them as they entered. He had a fiery red hair and beard and an ax on his side. "Wildling scum on our land." Robb heard one muttered. They went farther in.
A woman dressed in a blood red cloak with matching red hair stared back at him, her eyes widened and watched Robb's every move. The red haired wildling stepped forward again, the size of him scared the horses.
"What do you southerners need here?" He roared staring at them in disgust. GreatJon growled like a wild animal back at him. The Umbers who lived so close to the Wall always had the first hits of the wildling raids.
Before anyone could stop them, GreatJon and the wildling were already face to face. "We're no southerners. This is our home you're in, you should have stayed on your side of the wall." He spat back at them.
They both screamed at each other to cause more tension, more people noticed them. They shut their mouths when Grey Wind came forward to them and snapped his jaws at them. GreatJon remembered the last time he had an encounter with his wolf.
"Who are you?" He stared back at Grey Wind, he was familiar with a direwolf. Grey Wind's ears tilted, a wolf howled in the distance. He began to howl back, only running through the rest of the camp.
Robb could see the white fur circling them all, and red eyes staring back. Jon's wolf had been the runt, he looked the biggest of them all now. Arya stepped forward, searching for them.
"Where are they?" She spoke to Robb, that time he saw black hair. The flaps of a tent opened, a tall lad with dark hair and grey eyes looked around. Jon was too far, he couldn't see them but Robb could.
His father wore a similar cloak, Jon was always more of their father's son. Jon saw the army standing back at them, he marched forward to greet them. When he finally got close enough, Robb stepped forward.
His dark eyes widened and his sullen face had a look of shock and confusion when they stood across from each other. For some reason, Robb felt like laughing.
"Snow." Robb bowed and greeted him. They both were serious, but only for a second. They both laughed at the sight of each other, Jon pulled him tightly forward.
He hadn't seen his brother since he left for the Night's Watch. That was when their home was theirs and the North was ruled by the Starks.
Arya stepped forward, she caught sight of Jon. She turned into a little girl rushing to her brother jumping into his arms. They were always the closest of his siblings.
The tent was pushed open again. A woman stepped forward, dressed in black and grey furs with the direwolf sewed onto her dress. She stood straight and poised like a queen. Her fiery red hair laid on her shoulder in a braid.
No, it couldn't be, Robb thought. The last he saw her she was a girl who would sew and sing her songs. It couldn't be Sansa, he thought. Her face was stern walking amongst all the soldiers.
Sansa seemed more of a soldier than any of them, her armor was her dress and she was made of steel. She looked for Jon to see what had happened. A small smile grew on her lips when she saw the Tully men.
Robb was the first to walk forward, he finally got her attention. Her blue eyes weakened, she looked as her armor had melted. Sansa had the looks of the girl he said goodbye to years ago.
He had no words, Robb stuttered slightly. "You.. You got bigger." Those were the only words he could come up with fully. It was enough for her, Sansa jumped to him wrapping her arms around him so tightly almost choking him.
She breathed heavily, not knowing what to say to him. Robb kept her from falling on the ground, she barely moved. He could hear the sniffling from her voice and her hands shaking. Sansa didn't speak, but Robb understood fully.
Robb once stood in an exact tent like this. Before it was to free his father, his sisters, the North. Now he sat in a room trying to free his brother and fighting for his own home.
When he thought of Winterfell, he thought of the bastard that lurked in their halls. The ghosts used to be the last Kings of the North in their crypts, now they were Ser Rodrik, Maester Luwin and the rest of the household.
He thought of Theon sacking Winterfell, and Ramsay Snow abusing his sister. Sansa wouldn't speak of it, but Jon mentioned some. Robb tossed the letter from Ramsay into the fire. The pink wax melted onto the ink smudging the words til he couldn't read them.
Come and see, come and see me rape your sister, see my dogs devour your little brother. They were coming, and they will see the flayed man banners be torn down and burned.
Jon had explained most of their plans, most of the men around him didn't respect his ideas. They looked to Robb, they always looked to him. "When do we fight?" Robb asked.
"Ramsay sent an envoy, he wants to meet at sun rise." Robb scuffed at Jon. The bastard won't be surrendering, he wants to have a look at their army. Sansa sat behind them, Robb could see her face upleased by their plans.
"My son, what of him?" GreatJon bellowed to them. He heard all their plans, except SmallJon's status. He couldn't think of his son betraying house Stark. Rickon went to the Umbers for safety, only to be imprisoned and sent to enemies.
"Your forces have sided with Ramsay, under SmallJon's orders. He brought Rickon to him." Jon spoke sullenly. GreatJon was enraged, he sighed and slammed his fists on the table. The little figures of the direwolves and flayed men shook.
"No, no, NO! I keep hearing that, but that's not my son. Someone's lying, they're tricking you or something. The bastard is lying, he could be a hostage." He was desperate looking for a reason. He turned to the men looking for help.
"If he was a hostage we would have known Lord Umb-" Jon tried to explain.
"Oh don't tell me what you know. I don't need to listen to a bastard born in the south." GreatJon spat back with fury. Jon had a look of annoyance, Robb would be too if he had to hear that over and over again.
"You and your house swore allegiance to house Stark my Lord. My brother may not share my name, but he is a Stark." Robb stopped GreatJon from speaking anymore. He grunted slightly and began to stand.
"I'm going with you at dawn. I want to see this bastard for myself." He roared like the giant he was. He lowered his head to leave the tent. Most of the men let soon after.
"You've drawn up your men and your battle plans, now you'll meet the monster soon." Sansa approached the table looking down at the man.
"Aye I suppose." She was unpleased by Jon's words. Every time they spoke of the battle Sansa's reaction was unfulfilled.
"You've read one letter, and now you and your trusted advisors sit around making plans on how to defeat a man you don't know." The truth was finally cracked open from under his sister's honor.
"You're right, explain what we need to know." Robb entered the conversation. Jon still sat silently looking down.
"He plays with people. He's far better at it than any of us, he's been doing it for his whole life." Sansa explained. Jon rose from his seat and stood to Sansa face to face.
"Aye and what have we been doing, sitting around and playing. I've fought beyond the Wall against worse than Ramsay Bolton. I've defended the Wall from worse than Ramsay Bolton."
Sansa was tired of them. Robb and Jon didn't understand him, she did. He wanted to understand for her, but she was right he didn't. "What would you have us do to save Rickon."
She didn't speak for a few seconds and sighed deeply. Her blue eyes lost it's brightness and turned dark, but shined like steel.
"We'll never get him back. He's Ned Starks trueborn son, he's a danger to Ramsay's claim. Higher than you a bastard, you who everyone thinks is dead, and me a girl. As long as he lives, Ramsay's claim will always be questioned, which means he won't live long."
Jon had rage and disbelief towards Sansa, but she was right again. As long as the Starks live, Ramsay Snow will never be the true lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North.
"I know nothing of war, but I know if we waited before marching and gathered more men we could have a better chance with Ramsay's forces."
"And what would you have us do Sansa. You went to more houses, and they hid in fear of the Boltons. The Blackfish's army came, we have enough men to march." Robb said. His voice was harsh towards her.
"It's not enough!" She explained. It was all they had, battles had been won with less. Sansa wanted an army of thousands, but they didn't have it. His sister sighed and her eyes watered slightly, but they dried even faster.
"You do know that if we lose I won't be going back to Winterfell alive. None of us will. You can say I'll be protected, but no one can protect me." She tightened her furs close to her skin and pushed the flaps out to her tent.
"You do know she's right." Robb spoke briefly. Jon nodded, laying his hands on his head not knowing what to do. He wanted to laugh, because he did the exact position only Robb was in Riverrun.
A man came in, he was one of Jon's advisors. Not the red beared man, it was the one who wore a bag around his neck. Jon spoke of how he was one of Stannis' men.
Robb didn't have an anger towards him, he shouldn't. He never met Stannis, they weren't enemies. He was probably Robert's only heir to the Iron Throne, he thought. "Forgive me if I'm interrupting, but she demanded entry."
She pulled her cloak out of her face, the red woman stared back at him. She approached Robb with caution. Her red eyes stared back at him, and her necklace glowed and beat like a heart and blood pulsed through it.
"I remember you, I saw you in my flames. I put the leaches into the fire, you saw it Ser Davos. Yet you're still here, I feel the fire burning through you. Burning the same as Jon Snow." She walked forward reaching her hand out, but Robb stepped back.
She stared back at both Jon and Robb, and clicked her tongue. "There aren't many followers of the Lord of Light in Westeros. Who did it?" The woman crossed her arms looking down at his chest, she knew just looking at him.
There was no reason to lie, he thought. "Thoros of Myr. Who is this woman?" He changed the subject. She seemed unimpresed by the name. Even this far North, someone knew of the drunken red priest.
"Melisandre, a red priestess and was part of Stannis Baratheon's court." The man with onions on his sigil spoke sullenly.
"I follow wherever Jon Snow goes now." She kept staring at Robb, fascinated. She walked towards him face to face, grabbing his cheeks like a child.
"I see eyes looking at me, eyes that will smile, laugh, and cry for you. Fire, fire will burn right through it all." Robb pushed her hands away. Most of them stared at her in silence, she sounded like the woods witch.
She back away from him, turning back to Jon and then Robb again. Once she left, the two brothers stood surrounding the table. Jon sighed looking down at it all, he was out of his place. "Is she right, will this be a slaughter?"
"All battle is a slaughter. The Boltons have six thousand you said, we have three, four thousand? Battles have been won with less." He admitted. Jon poured two cups of wine and slid one towards Robb.
He was tempted. Robb couldn't remember the last time he had drank any. Most times they were marching and he mostly drank water. He might die tomorrow, he might as well remember the taste one last time.
It had a thick syrup taste in it, his eyes cringed slightly when his tongue touched. It was colder than Robb remembered, the sun in Meereen usually baked on it until it was scalding. Robb missed the taste, and the dulling of the senses.
"I can't picture him, Rickon. When I went North for the wall, he was six. I keep thinking he'll look the same, not aged since we left." Jon was smiling when he spoke. It was rare to see that, but his face turned stern again.
"When the Greyjoys took the North and I got the letter about Winterfell, I tried to forget. I tried forgetting them all, the only thing I focused on was winning that war. Everytime I thought about Bran or Rickon, I'd blame myself and get angry. I swore I would go to war and kill armies just to bring them back, and now here we are." He sipped more of his wine.
Robb wasn't sure if it was the wine making his mind fuzzy or because he was with his brother to tell someone that. He wanted to tuck it away and hide the shame. Jon lowered his head down to his cup.
"Do you think we'll get him back?" Jon was doubting himself. Robb didn't answer, they just sat silently listening to the wind blow.
They arrived first. Plans were to be made at dawn, most of them didn't sleep the night before. Robb tried to, he just kept staring at the top of his tent. His eyes burned slightly looking at the sunrise.
Sansa insisted on joining, she wanted to face the monster and show she didn't fear him. Bannermen stood behind them, they were brave to stand up to the Boltons. Some would call them traitors, but they're more loyal than any southerner.
Grey Wind and Ghost stood boldly next to them. Sansa had a sad look when she saw them, thinking of Lady probably. Her eyes widened and she stood high when the pink man banners were in sight.
They dragged someone behind their horses. Robb gripped his sword, they could get Rickon back without a battle he thought.
He finally got a look of the bastard, his eyes were the color of ice. They all stood silent just looking at each other. That was until Ramsay's lips turned up with a sinister smile.
"Brothers! My beloved wife, I've missed you terribly." He greeted them. The bastard's happiness disturbed Robb. Sansa stood tall and proud, like the queen she wanted to be.
"Thank you for returning, Lady Bolton safely. Now, dismount and kneel before me. Surrender your armies, your crown, and proclaim me true Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North."
He stared back at Jon and Robb for a reaction. He knew what to say to make a man go mad. He turned to the Lords behind them.
"I will pardon you for deserting the Night's Watch. I will pardon these treasonous Lords for betraying my house. As for you Robb Stark, well you and your group of outlaws will return south to face your treasonous consequences."
Robb could hear Blackfish cussing under his breath, and he could already tell without looking Lyanna Mormont was giving her murderous stares. None of them spoke. He seemed to be growing bored, and angry.
"Come men, you don't have the men, and you don't have Winterfell. Why lead those poor souls into slaughter? I'll even pardon your people and release them to your grey waste you call home." The bastard spoke, looking back to the men.
"The boy is our Lord, not our friend bastard." Blackfish spat at him. Ramsay chuckled staring at each of them as if they were simple minded.
"Oh you think I mean? Oh no no no no no, I've grown fond of my good brother. Maybe take him on as a ward." His pale blue eyes smiling at them all.
Sansa never stopped staring at him. "How do we know you have him?" He turned to her, he had the look of a monster children fear from. With a wave of his hand, a black blur was tossed to them.
Shaggydog, Rickon had chosen that name for him. His black fur was the color of midnight, and bright eyes as green as grass. Now all that was left of him was a wolf's head, shaved and eyes gouged out. It was rather small for a direwolf, he thought.
"As I said before surrender now and I can release your friend. The great giant of Last Hearth! Bring SmallJon out to see his friends." Ramsay commanded. SmallJon was being pulled on rope, like a leash.
GreatJon began to jump from his horse, Blackfish and Wendel Manderly pulled him back from killing Ramsay then and there. SmallJon was confused looking around at everyone. He was in chains and on his knees, but still was the tallest of them all.
They had beaten him til he was bloody. His head had a festering gash on the side. He turned to see Robb and his eyes widened, and began laughing at them all. "You're alive? HA!" He spotted Harrion Karstark walk forward to kick SmallJon back to the ground.
"Young Lord Umber and his group of traitors tried to overthrow my house. They brought me a Stark only to try and take MY castle. No need to worry GreatJon, we've kept him warm. Your trusted soldiers had thick skin, they could be used as a cloak that's how great they were!"
He waved his arm and they tossed it forward. SmallJon resisted when they pulled it on him. The skin had begun to rot and blood sunk onto his skin. Robb cringed at the sight, the men tried to fight for his family only to be killed by a traitor.
SmallJon started laughing at them again. "What can I say bastard, the North remembers. You think you're so fucking smart, now look at you! HA! You'll die soon enough, you were even too stupid to realize that wasn't the real w-"
The blade pushed through his throat, SmallJon gasped and fell to the ground. "NO!" GreatJon roared with all his might, falling to his son's side. Blood rose through his mouth, he was choking.
Sansa was the only one to speak, "You're going to die tomorrow for this, Lord Bolton. Sleep well." She kicked her horse and rode back to camp.
"My wife, I'll be so happy once she returns to sharing my bed." He looked down at GreatJon trying to stop SmallJon's wound.
"Remember that next time, I won't be so merciful. We fight in the morning then. My dogs are quite excited to meet you, I haven't fed them in seven days. I wonder what parts they'll get to first, your eyes or perhaps your balls!"
He gave one last grin before he rode back towards Winterfell, their home. Robb's knuckles burned from gripping his sword for so long. "GET A MAESTER SOMEONE!" GreatJon screamed. There was too much blood, SmallJon's gasps were smaller every breath.
You could hear the small breath that flew away with the wind. GreatJon roared like the giant on his banners. It was so loud they could hear it in Dorne. Robb jumped from his horse, he knelt down to him.
Robb lifted his hand to press SmallJon's eyes closed. He looked down to the ground. "Everyone will know he died a hero. He truly was." He didn't know what to say. He and Jon both called him a traitor, when he was trying to take back Winterfell for them.
"Don't touch my son! You, you all called him traitor and look what he did for you. LOOK WHAT HE DID!" GreatJon pushed them all away. Only he would go near him. He was the one to lift SmallJon's body onto the cart, and he was the one to mourn for his son.
The sun had just set, the sky was already dark. Most of them didn't speak since their meeting with Ramsay. Sansa was right, they didn't know him. Ramsay Snow was always one step ahead of them.
"He won't let anyone near the pyre. Poor man, losing his only son and to see it with his own eyes." He could hear them whispering at GreatJon. Everytime people walked forward to his funeral pyre, Umber would try and beat them with the torch.
Robb pushed them aside to walk towards him. GreatJon's knees wiggled about to collapse. He had stood their for hours standing over SmallJon. "We will avenge him I swear GreatJon. Ramsay Snow will pay for it."He had given up fighting them, now he just knelt in the snow. Not caring to listen.
"I wasn't a good father to him. His mother, she was, she was better at this. She was better at everything, I swear it. King Robert chose your aunt Lyanna, I would have fought ten wars for her. When she died, we were all alone. I started paying attention to him when he could hold a sword, the rest was all her."
Robb never saw this side of GreatJon before, he never heard of SmallJon's mother or who she was. His face saddened when he thought of her, he sighed and toughened his giant like face. "You spoke of this dragon queen, I'll kneel and call her queen. Only if you show no mercy and none of that Stark honor, kill him."
"I swear it, by the Old Gods and the New, he will die. Your son won't die for nothing." GreatJon nodded to Robb's words.
He looked down to SmallJon one last time, saying goodbye to his son. He let go of the torch, and the night's darkness lit up in flames.