Winterfell.
Talisa had heard so much about her husband's home, the castle that stood for thousands of years, built atop hot springs that keep its denizens warm despite the harshest of winter. There, she was wrapped in furs and heavy velvets, no longer a Volantene lady but a Northern Queen, the first one in three hundred years. She had heard so many reports that Roose Bolton's bastard, Ramsay, had put it to torch, that it was sacked thrice in the span of three years. The first by Theon, the second time by Ramsay Snow and the third by Meage Mormont. In three years, ownership of Winterfell had been passed from the Starks to the Greyjoys, to the Boltons and to the Mormonts who held it in the name of the Starks. Now, the rightful masters of the North had returned, it was once again the capital of the Kingdom of the North.
There were tears in Robb's eyes. "When I left Winterfell with our bannermen, I never expected that we'd return alive," he told her, his arm around her shoulder. "Now, we are home... although we would have to march on soon."
Most of the people who lived in Winterfell had been killed. However, those who had escaped returned after the Mormonts reclaimed Winterfell, and some of the rebuilding works had already been started. Even from the distance, Winterfell was an imposing structure. Its turrets and towers standing tall, for there was nothing in the distance to rival it. This was to be her home now, Talisa told herself, and she knew that she would come to love it and know it as intimately as her husband would.
Arya and Catelyn were silent as they got closer and closer to their home. Like Robb and Talisa, they had opted to walk instead of riding into the castle, even if they could see that there were people at the main gate waiting for them. To others, it was a show of austerity, but they knew that they did not return to their home as victors. They returned because they had to, with the aid of their bannermen. It was deep in their Northern sensibilities that their entrace should reflect it.
They passed through the gates, and were greeted by Lady Meage Mormont and her daughters. Once they entered, they could see the smallfolk assembled in neat rows, waiting for their king. Like how they had knelt to Robert Baratheon when he visited Winterfell to ask for Robb's late father to be his Hand, they now knelt to Robb, their heads bowed deeply.
"Rise," he begged them. "If I had the choice, I wouldn't be your King. I would've been Lord Robb, still serving my father. But... that is not to be. Since the lords of the North have made me King in the North, then I will defend all that comes with this title. Your families, your farms and your mills... I vow to always protect you, my people, right until my last day."
"The King in the North!" his bannermen rallied, followed by the smallfolk. "The King in the North!"
It came as no surprise to Talisa that Robb's people would have acted as he did. She knew that he loved them. He was devoted to them. In return, they gave him their support, their loyalty and their prayers.
What happened after was a whirlwind. They were quickly ushered into the Great Hall where a great feast was already prepared for them to welcome them home. There Robb sat in the center of the raised platform, Talisa to his right and Catelyn to his left, and Arya furthest to the left.
"Your Grace," said Greatjon Umber, "We've... decided that you should need this." At his words, Lord Manderly came up to him and presented a heavy box to Robb. Upon opening it, Robb saw that it was a crown, one made of bronze. Its spikes were the shape of longswords, made of black iron. Greatjon then turned towards Talisa and a seperate box was given to her by Meage Mormont. Talisa's was a circlet made of slim silver, skilfully depicting tigers and direwolves with bejeweled eyes.
"Thank you," Robb and Talisa said in unison, much to the amusement of the Northern lords.
"May your rule be long and prosperous," they wished their King and Queen. They also offered kind prayers for Talisa's unborn child.
"By the way the Queen's carrying, we'd be waiting for a future Prince!" one of the lords added. "I should know, me wife's had five of them!"
The feast was a great success. Hand in hand, Robb and Talisa walked through the rows of long tables, talking and conversing with their bannermen. While Talisa had already been the Queen in the North for the better part of a year already, it took much of her time and energy for Robb's bannermen to not regard her as a mere eastern flower that had caught Robb's fancies. Now that she had been given her crown by the Mormonts, it finally felt like she was the Queen in the North, and not some pretender merely because she was Robb's wife.
Robb knew all of them. Every one of them. He knew whose mother was suffering from gout and whose sister had twins months ago. Talisa was amazed. Back in Volantis, she was so closely-guarded that she could only be in the company of those that her grandfather had approved of.
"It was part of his training to become the future Lord of Winterfell," Catelyn explained to her when she returned to her seat. Now in the middle to late stages of her pregnancy, she was no longer as mobile as she once was. "His father would bring him, Jon and Theon to visit each lord in their keeps from time to time, so that they would know their lands and their bannermen well."
"It is no wonder that they love him so," Talisa said.
"They love you too," Arya offered. "You're actually good at, you know, ruling, and Robb's not. You should help him do more of that too."
Talisa thanked Arya for her kind words. Her grandfather was elected to be a Triach year after year, and he had a solid plan for his unofficial dynasty to continue on. So although her father had a son, her grandfather made sure that she was well-educated in statecraft so that she could be of aid to her brother, to keep matters within the family as much as possible. In all honesty, it was not Robb's fault that he was not as good a ruler as he had been a military commander and a warrior. Northerners were honest and honorable, and obviously had no nose for politics, a complete turn from the Volantene ruling class. She was... relieved that they were starting to appreciate what she was able to do, however little help it might seem to be.
"I hope that I am worthy of such a love," she replied.
"Don't worry, Talisa," Catelyn told her daughter-in-law. "You will be."
It spoke volumes to her, just because Catelyn had said those words to her.
Lady whimpered and sulked when Nymeria left. She missed her sister. They had never been apart for more half a day in their lives. Nymeria, on the other hand, could not help but keep looking back towards Lady.
"You must let her go, Lady," Sansa told her. "She's going back so that Arya can be with her." Of course, that was partly the truth of it. The other truth would be that Doran was using Nymeria the direwolf as part of a political play. Word had been sent out that the one in the honor guard was not Nymeria, but was Sansa instead. It would lure the Lannisters out to capture or kill her, and they would be sorely mistaken should they find a direwolf in the carriage and expert warriors defending it.
Lady nuzzled Sansa's leg and Sansa patted her head. "Imagine Nym's face when she finds that she has the same name as the direwolf," Oberyn told her. It took a few days for Lady to truly get used to him and Ellaria. The two of them would approach Lady with raw steaks to entice her into their company, but strangely, she was awfully tolerant with the Sand Snakes, even letting Loreza lean against her while the two of them napped.
"Obara would laugh, I think," Sansa suggested. "And Nym would fall in love with Nymeria and Arya will be jealous."
"Are you so sure?" Ellaria asked.
"No, but I hope so. We used to fight a lot, Arya and I," she explained. She would give anything for the chance to do so again.
"Have you seen the girls at it then?" Oberyn asked. "I'm not only reason they're called the Sand Snakes'".
"They made me glad I'm an only child, sometimes," Ellaria added. "The din would be enough to cause one to deafen before old age."
Somehow, Sansa felt a pang of relief solely because the Sand Snakes were mostly older and wiser. Youth made one feel self-important, because they could not understand the effects of one's actions that would spill onto others.
"The Lannisters will see a Martell carriage along the Kingsroad and they will slay anyone in them," Doran said proclaimed, gesturing his head towards Nymeria in the carriage made for a royal princess. "What a sight it would be, lions cowering before a direwolf when they seek a princess."
"Too bad they'll find nothing," Oberyn said. "Not a single shadow." Behind Nymeria's carriage were three others like it. All four carriages had an honor guard accompanying them. One would set out from Sunspear on land, the others would sail. The second would be dropped off at Oldtown, the third at Lannisport and the last one, the one containing Nymeria, would reach Deepwood Motte. Each and every one of them would move towards Winterfell from their respective drop-off points, hoping that the Lannisters would be confused and confounded. It was an elaborate plot, for the transport of a direwolf, but it was needed. It was needed to undermine the Lannisters, to prove them victims of their own games, something short of rising against them outright.
Word had been sent to King's Landing that Sansa would be in one of those carriages, ready to return to her family now that Robb had retaken the North. She would be returning with her two direwolves, the rumors said. When Varys contacted them through one of his little birds, it was all they said. They would find out the rest on their own. The plan was to have the Lannisters strike first, so that they would have an excuse to retaliate.
"Is it wise, brother, to bait the Lannisters so soon?" Sansa asked. "Robb's just only arrived in the North, and if Lord Varys can be trusted, the Lannisters would have just only received the news..."
"Soon?" Doran asked Sansa. "No, dear sister, it is not too soon. We have been waiting for this for 20 years. We have waited enough." It was only then did Sansa realize one thing that many others did not, that Doran and Oberyn were actually made from the same stock. In their fury, their anger would be a hurricane that no one could withstand, but in a clever play, Oberyn was allowed to act his rages out, while Doran stayed in control. Doran was the grass that sheltered the snake, the foil that enabled everything that would happen. It was only natural, for Doran had the entirety of Dorne on his shoulders.
"Will they even take the bait?"
"They will," Doran reassured her. "Even with your sister found, you are still your brother's heir. They will want you back in their custody if they think that we have betrayed them." Doran made no mention of Bran and Rickon, for he knew that even in Dorne, there were spies everywhere. With her brothers presumed dead, Sansa was Robb's heir until he has a son, or until he was sure that his son would survive him. It would be safer for them, in a way, so that no one might find them and use them against Robb.
"It would seem that you, my love, are the key to Westeros as it stands," Oberyn teased, placing an arm around her waist. "What an honor it is to have so many fighting over you."
"I never wanted such an honor," Sansa bit back. "I just want all of this to end soon."
"It will, in time," Doran said. "For now, we must all play our cards well. As you say in the words of your House, 'Winter is coming'."
"Jon, did you hear?" Samwell Tarly asked Jon as he went about his duties, having narrowly escaped death. He had faced the wrath of the wildlings before, but no wrath was as deadly as the wrath of his brothers. He was lucky that Maester Aemon believed him, and he was thus allowed to keep his head.
"Hear what, Sam?" Jon asked in return.
"Your brother, Robb... I mean... the King in the North, he's returned to Winterfell!"
Jon's jaw fell immediately. When he had awakened, he was given two pieces of news. The first was that he was now Jon Stark, legitimized by Robb. Ser Alliser had made quite a show that even though he was no longer a Snow, he was still not a fitting heir because he was already a Black Brother. In private, Jon had been so happy that he had shed tears. The second, was that his sisters were well and alive. Sansa was married to the Dornish prince Oberyn, while Arya was delivered to Robb when he still occupied Casterly Rock by none other than the Hound himself. This third piece of news was what he had just heard from Sam, and he found it to be the most stupid thing that Robb could ever do.
"What's he gonna do back up North?" Jon wondered. "He's got Casterly Rock and that's perfectly defensible. He could have taken the Lannisters one by one from there!" When they were boys, Maester Luwin taught them about the various keeps and castles in Westeros. How they were defended, how they could be garrisoned. Casterly Rock was once thought to be impregnable. He did not know how Robb did it, but Robb managed to take it from the Lannisters and he should have stayed there.
"Well, don't you Starks always say that 'there must always be a Stark in Winterfell'?" Sam asked.
"He can't win the war if he's holed up back home!" Jon exclaimed.
"Maybe he's coming up to the Wall?" Sam suggested. "When you were gone, Maester Aemon sent ravens down south to ask for help so..."
Jon's eyes widened so much that Sam was sure that could have popped out of his sockets. He looked as though he was going to have some sort of outburst, but in the end, he quieted himself. "Robb is coming up here?" he asked.
"Aye, he is," Sam said. "I know that we're not supposed to have any families, after we've taken our vows, but... he's your brother, and won't it be nice to see him again?"
"Yes," Jon said. "The last time I saw him, he was in the courtyard of Winterfell. He said, 'Next time I see you, you'll be all in black.' I was jealous of Robb my whole life. The way my father looked at him, I wanted that. He was better than me at everything... fighting and hunting and riding... and girls... Gods, the girls loved him. I wanted to hate him, but I never could." Even though he was raised a bastard, Robb was his brother. Sansa did not understand, because she was so close to Lady Catelyn, and thankfully Arya loved him like Robb did. He had a good rapport with Bran, but he was too young and Rickon... Rickon was still a child at Lady Catelyn's legs. He remembered that they were playmates, and then they were sparring-mates. They did everything together.
Sam sighed. "Sometimes, I want to hate you too," he said in the tone that Jon had taken. "Well, you're better than me at everything... except reading..."
Then, they heard it. War-horns, horns from Winterfell. Jon knew those horns if they were sounded hundred and hundreds of miles away. A full fanfare was sounded and without a moment's hesitation, Jon and Sam ran towards the courtyard from where they were, into the snow.
There was a magnificent host, but Jon had never seen anything like it. Each and every one of those soldiers had the same uniform. Their armor was a mixture of steel and reinforced leather, they held the same swords and spears. There were also Dornishmen, he reckoned, by the darkness of their skin compared to the others, wrapped in more thick clothing than the others did, for they were unaccustomed to the cold.
At the head of the host was Robb and there were two women flanking him immediately, along with the other Northern lords. He had never seen the women before, but somehow, he knew that neither of them was his Queen. In fact, they looked as if they were Dornish too.
Jon wanted to go to the courtyard to see Robb, but for whatever reason, Maester Aemon patted him on the shoulder and said, "Go wait in the hall, Jon Stark. The King will see you in time Prepare some food for him too, please."
As much as he wanted to speak against the old maester, Jon quietly obeyed.
"The Night's Watch welcomes Robb Stark, King in the North," Ser Alliser said once Robb got off his horse. "I am Ser Alliser Thorne, acting Lord Commander."
"Well met, Ser Alliser. I hope that you will be pleased to know that I will be personally leading the Northern army in defending the Wall with you and your brothers. With me are the Lords of the North, who also see justice in your cause. These two ladies with me are Captain Obara Sand and Lieutenant Nymeria Sand, who act as marshals in our army."
Ser Alliser's nostrils flared at the sight of the Dornishwomen. "I'm afraid that women are not allowed on the Wall," he said. "We have to... uphold the discipline of our ranks as it is."
Nymeria glared at him while Obara moved forward and spat, "We are here on His Grace's orders, as representatives of House Martell and our father, Prince Oberyn Martell. If you think that our presence here will ruin the discipline of your men, they would want to think twice before they try fuck women that are so armed that we could cut their balls off if they dare to even look at us in a manner that we do not appreciate."
"Peace, Captain Sand," Robb said, and Obara stepped back Robb's side. "I assure you, Ser Alliser, that my Captain and Lieutenant have been blooded well. We also humbly ask that you allow us to occupy one of the castles nearest to you, so that we might have shelter throughout this campaign. We brought our own food, and supplies will come to Castle Black and us from all of the North. We won't be too much of a bother."
Ser Alliser frowned. "You give us no other choice then," he said. "Maester Aemon, which castles do you think could house His Grace and his host?"
Maester Aemon gave a slight moment's thought and said, "Queensgate should be serviceable, Your Grace."
Robb noddded. "Very well then, we shall adjourn to Queensgate."
"Oh, Your Grace, wouldn't you want to rest awhile?" Maester Aemon asked Robb. "It's been quite a journey for you, and I've arranged for one of our stewards to bring you and your lords mulled wine and some bread and cheese..."
"I couldn't forgo such hospitality," Robb said. "Thank you, Maester Aemon. You are too kind."
Together with his bannermen, Obara and Nymeria, Robb helped Maester Aemon into the hall and sat him immediately by the fire. "You're a good man, Your Grace," Maester Aemon praised. "Your father would have been pleased."
Robb smiled, although he knew that Maester Aemon could not see it. He sat next to Maester Aemon, but he seemed to notice a familiar mess of dark hair so pretty that it could have been a girl's head. He turned around and found that it was Jon. "Come here, you rascal!" he roared, almost running towards Jon and embraced him in a large, bear-like hug. "Look at you! You're all in black!"
"We're... all in black here, you know," Jon retorted sardonically, but suddenly remembered that Robb was not how he remembered him to be now. "I... I'm sorry, Your Grace."
"Come off it," Robb said sternly. He would always be just Robb with his family. "I missed you, brother. If you weren't so dead set on coming here, you would've been fighting by my side as Prince Jon Stark of Winterfell."
"That would be a sight," Jon replied. "My place is here, Robb. I might have been an ass to want to come here, but this is where I belong now. You're my brother, and so are the rest of the Night's Watch."
"Aye, I understand," Robb said. "But don't flatter yourself, I didn't come up all the way from Casterly Rock just to see you and your pretty face..."
Maester Aemon tutted. "That will be talk for another day, Your Grace," he said. "You and Jon have just reunited, and you should be talking about everything else but war. Jon, you are relieved of your work for today. Go to the library with His Grace, you can take as long as you want." The Stark boys thanked him in unison, and he could not help but to chuckle. "Run along now."
"I heard that your Queen is from the east..."
"Yes, most beautiful girl I've ever laid eyes on..."
At that moment, Ser Alliser came up towards Maester Aemon, watching Jon and Robb walk towards the library. "Do you think it's wise, putting him up with his brother?" he asked. "Didn't you hear what the Young Wolf say to him?"
"I heard him very clearly, Ser Alliser," Maester Aemon replied. "However, he would not be the first prince to serve on the Wall while his brother reigns, nor will he be the last. There is good stock in these Stark boys, and they could give us the chance of survival that we've been so desperately fighting and... begging for."
HAN: Yes, Jon finally makes his debut! WOOHOO! I hope that you like his reunion with Robb!
Queensgate is the castle to the left of Castle Black, if you're wondering.
It's a very good time to be a Stark in this chapter. Let's hope the good times last.
Enjoy!