Robb

He woke in the library to someone shaking him awake. "Robb… Wake up," the female voice called out to him.

When Robb opened his eyes, he saw that he had fallen asleep the previous night with the book still open in front of him. He felt more sore than normal.

"Cella… What?" He said groggily as he lifted his head up, remembering what he had been reading the night before. He had been trying to uncover what dragon had he seen on Skagos, and had been reading through his histories.

He had been reading of the twin sons of Princess Aerea Targaryen by Brandon Stark, Edric and Ellard when he fell asleep. Both men had been Lord of Winterfell in their lives, with Lord Edric as the older twin having wed his half-aunt, Lady Lyanna Stark, though they had a childless marriage, and when he had died, Lord Ellard had succeeded him.

Lord Ellard had married Princess Viserra Targaryen of the throne after she had come of age, and had been the Lord of Winterfell during the Great Council of 101 AC, and had eight children with the Princess, who was said to be the most beautiful of King Jaehaerys and Queen Alysanne's seven daughters, before he died and was succeeded by his second son, since his eldest had predeceased him.

The Princess had been a dragonrider, but it was Dreamfyre, the same dragon as Queen Rhaena, who had died in the Storming of the Dragonpit. He supposed that it must have been a clutch of eggs from the dragon that Myrcella had found in the crypts, but everything else remained a mystery for him.

By his count, only Meraxes and Balerion the Black Dread had died before the Dance, and both of them had died far in the south, which left Robb feeling only more lost in his quest.

"Did you figure it out?" Myrella asked him. She wore a red and gold gown in the colors of House Lannister today, with a necklace whose emeralds seemed to match her eyes perfectly. Today was her four and tenth name day he remembered, and she certainly looked beautiful as well.

Robb shook his head, putting a mark into the book before him before he closed it.

"Perhaps my uncle lives on in you… He oft slept in libraries too," she said sadly.

Myrcella still mourned the Imp, and word of his death had still made for a sore subject between the two, though for her it had only confirmed their need to go south together. In two days they were set to go south, riding first to the head of the White Knife River and from there they would take a ship south from White Harbor to King's Landing.

She sat down next to him and took out one of the books, Unnatural Histories by Septon Barth, and began to read through it. Robb had not found the book, which had colored pictures of all the dragons in flesh, to be of much use. When they were bones it all looked the same.

Robb began to read through the histories for a little longer, reading of the reign of Aegon the Dragonbane, when Myrcella spoke up. "I found it," she said.

He looked at the book, and saw it was a black dragon with green eyes. "How can you…" Robb started to ask, confused. She had not seen the dragon's skeleton even, or how big it was.

"I had a dream… I think he was the dragon that I saw… On what must have been Skagos," she told him.

"Truly?" He said, unsure what to make of it.

Robb looked over the page, and saw that the dragon was the Cannibal. The book didn't say what had happened to the dragon, but Robb remembered he had been one of the few to have survived the Dance of the Dragons, and how at some point disappeared from the island of Dragonstone with none knowing where it had gone.

It made sense to him, he supposed, and he closed the book in front of him. More strikingly though to him was that she had already dreamt of the dragon that they would find on Skagos.

He turned towards Myrcella. "Why… Why didn't you tell me about it?"

"I didn't think you would believe me… I tried to warn you not to go to Skagos, but you wouldn't listen," she said to him, still looking at the book.

Robb swung his leg over the bench to face her fully. "I'm… I'm sorry for that," he said, hugging her.

When he let go, she turned towards him, and looked at him, her emerald green eyes a little red as though she had been crying earlier and hugged him back.

"I should have told you," she said. "Just promise me that you will listen."

"I promise," Robb whispered back to her. It was an easy promise to make he supposed, after Daenerys it was the least he could do to listen to her.

"Good…" Myrcella said.

Robb could've sworn that he felt their child give a kick against his own stomach that was pressed against Myrcella's, and she let out a small giggle of excitement, before placing Robb's hands on her belly. "I think they know who their father is," she said.

He smiled a little, and planted a kiss on her lips. For as worrisome as some of the news from the south had been, they had still been able to find comfort in the prospect of their child.

Myrcella read before bed from time to time, and of late she had taken accustom to reading it aloud rather than silently, and even sometimes having Robb do the reading, as though the babe could hear them within her womb. He supposed he ought to write down his stories from Skagos too, so that they could read those too, but he wasn't quite ready to have to write all those tales yet.

They sat together there in the library of Winterfell, until their moment was interrupted by Septon Chayle, asking if they would like more books, or to take any of the ones they had out away, and had brought some food for them to break their fast.

Robb allowed the man to take their books, and Myrcella gladly took the food, eating all of her portion and even most of his, though he didn't mind. She was eating for herself and their child.

When they finished, she spoke to him. "Why did your mother go south and not return?"

He had dreaded when she would finally ask this question. Now that Ser Rodrik had returned alone, there was no hiding from the issue any longer.

"The man who attacked Goren," Robb began. "He… He had a knife, one far too rich to be his own, and a bag of silver stags where he had been hiding."

She nodded. "The knife you asked me about?"

"Yes," Robb said. "She went south with Ser Rodrik to find the truth of who owned the blade."

"And Ser Rodrik returned without your mother. What truth did they find?" Myrcella asked.

He knew that she wouldn't like the answer, but forced himself to tell her anyway. "The knife… It… It was your uncle's."

"Which one?" She asked, confused. "Stannis and Renly didn't come North, you mean Jaime's?"

"Tyrion's," Robb answered.

"He… He wouldn't have…" Myrcella stammered out.

"Perhaps not, but it was his," he said. Robb had broken his promise he knew, and she did not like the truth.

"No, that knife… How did he come into possessing it?" She asked him.

It took Robb a moment to recall the story that Ser Rodrik had given. "At the Tourney for you brother's twelve nameday, in the final round he bet with Littlefinger and won it there."

"Ser Loras won, beating my uncle Jaime," she said. "I remember that now. He can't have won it though."

"Why not?" Robb asked, unsure what she meant. The Imp had been at the tourney for a certainty, and mother and father had enough trust in the man they called Littlefinger.

"Because my uncle would never make such a bet. He always bet on Uncle Jaime. It was my father that Littlefinger was betting with, not Uncle Tyrion."

Suddenly he felt confused. Mother and father had been lied to, he realized. "It was your father's?"

"I think…" Myrcella answered, her voice filled with uncertainty.

If the King had hired a common footpad to slit Goren's throat… Robb knew that his father had little trust for the Lannisters, but he was the King's best friend, the one that had been tasked to foster Theon and the Targaryens both.

"We ought to tell my mother and father then," he said, his convictions hardening. It had been for her sake, and Rickon's he had agreed to go south before, but now if this was true, it had to be for his mother and father's as well.

Myrcella shook her head. "Who told them?"

"The Spider," Robb said. Or it might have been someone else, but that was the name he seemed to remember Ser Rodrik saying.

"Your mother and father ought to know better than to trust the eunuch," she said.

"If he truly lied, this changes everything," he said.

"It changes nothing, Robb. We are sooner to find poison in our drinks before we uncover the truth. Whoever hired the footpad must have stolen the knife," Myrcella insisted. She must have sensed his dismay too. "King's Landing isn't like Winterfell. You would do well to remember that."

"What would you have me do?" He asked.

"Nothing Robb… Sometimes that is the best we can do," she told him.

"Fine," he conceded at last. He didn't like the prospect, but he worried about bringing Casella and Aegon to such a place. He would protect them if he had to, but if he had to protect them from the King, there was hardly any good that he could do then.

"I do not like this anymore than you do," she said before she gave him a kiss, and sat silently at the table for a few moments.

He considered what to say, but he couldn't think of anything with his shock.

The silence was broken though when Myrcella gave him a second kiss, and finally spoke. "Now help me up," she ordered. Being heavy with child, she had needed Robb's help more and more to get up, so he got up on his own before he helped Myrcella do the same, and together they left the library of Winterfell.

For a moment he wasn't sure where they should go. He knew it would be best to go to some place that would put their minds at ease. Since they had decided they would be going south, Robb had spent his days going to some of the places he was not like to be seeing again for a while, and he supposed today would be as good a day as any to pay a trip to the Wintertown just outside of Winterfell.

He went to find Greywind first, and Myrcella's sworn shield, Ser Arys, followed as well, before they left out the Eastern Gate of Winterfell into the Wintertown afoot.

The town was not a proper city by any means, and was hardly full either, as it would be during the cold years of Winter when commonfolk often fled their lands to the Wintertown to be closer to where food and warmth were plentiful.

There were more than enough markets and stores though, and while Robb did not have much interest in it, Myrcella seemed to have much.

At one store she found a carved wooden wolf that she bought for their child, and at another she bought a new night gown for herself.

Robb found a few things he figured they would need for their travels, when they would be going south with near fifty men at arms, and his brothers.

Jon would've rather ridden south along the Kingsroad straight for Raventree Hall, he knew, but he was willing to sail south with them when he had heard of the trouble in King's Landing too, and seemed to want to speak to father about something.

Rickon though seemed overjoyed by the prospect of going south and being with mother and father again, and even more so that Casella would be going south with them. The two often seemed inseparable to Robb, and he knew it was likely for the best that at least one of the children remained in the south with them, even if Rhaenys and Goren would still be at Winterfell.

Most of Myrcella's ladies would be returning south with them too, though Lady Rhea would be taken to Runestone with Daemon, rather than going all the way to the city, and Lady Perianne was going to be sent back to her father's seat of Seagard for her wedding that was approaching soon.

As it neared midday Myrcella began to become hungry again, and so they paid a visit to one of the inns there for their lunch, before they began to return to the castle.

Robb first made for their chambers to change his clothes that he had been wearing since the day before, and then he made for Maester Luwin's tower where he still had some lessons to attend to for the day.

It didn't matter that he was five and ten, almost a man grown, soon to be a father himself and taking leave of the castle in a few days, Maester Luwin had insisted he still take lessons with Jon, and so they had.

Robb eventually found Myrcella again, and before long Jon joined them, and together they walked across the castle. Myrcella had joined them because she wanted to, even though Maester Luwin had never made her. Most of her life he knew that Myrcella had been educated by a woman named Septa Eglantine, though she had gone back south with the King when they had parted from Winterfell, and occasionally Grand Maester Pycelle, though he seldom had given her much time, so she still enjoyed taking lessons here.

They sat waiting together for a little while, yet when the Maester came down it was from the rookery letter in hand, and a troubled look upon his face.

"My lord, I fear we will not be having any lessons today. We have more pressing matters." He said, handing him the letter. "I'm sorry my Princess." He said, bowing to Myrcella before turning to walk away.

Dark wings, dark words, this can't bear good news. "No stay." Robb told him, as he seated himself.

In a trance he opened the letter, and read it while holding it so both Jon and Myrcella could read as well.

It was his mother's hand he saw as he read through it. When he was finished, he looked up and saw Myrcella had finished as well and tears were running from her emerald green eyes that she tried to furiously wipe away. "My lady, I..." Robb began before his voice trailed off.

Myrcella cut in, "it doesn't matter. My father is dead, and yours is in a cell. I ought to be giving my condolences to you and Jon since he actually partook in your lives. The only thing my father ever did for me was marry me to you. And now Joff is king of all the realm. This isn't about me, it's about you now."

"Treason? I know your lady mother well enough to know she would never say such a thing about father." Jon said.

"It's my mother speaking, not Lady Catelyn," Myrcella said.

Robb looked over the letter again and could see the sense in it. The queen wanted him to go to King's Landing to swear fealty to Joffrey. Surely I would not come to harm if Myrcella were still at Winterfell, he thought. He looked to the Maester. "Tell Hal Mollen to have fifty men at arms ready to depart as soon as possible," he said before placing a kiss on Myrcella's forehead. He felt there were tears in his eyes as well, which would not go away.

"No, Robb, surely you cannot mean to… No amount of swords would be enough if you should go to the capital to swear fealty to Joffrey, especially not since you've gotten me with child. Your grandfather once answered summons like these, and it did not save your uncle Brandon, nor will it save your father now." Myrcella told him.

"Mayhaps you ought to go to King's Landing then." Jon offered.

Myrcella gave a hysterical laugh at the notion so hard Robb thought for a moment she might have hurt herself, before she adjusted herself to make her enlarged stomach stick out further. "That would be the last you ever saw of me then. My mother was not pleased with our marriage and would not be like to let me leave. She'll keep me and our babe in the city, far from you."

"Could we… Could we mayhaps go together?" Robb suggested hopefully. They had already been planning to go south together anyways, and were set to depart in two days time. They wouldn't be riding most of the way, but they could sail from White Harbor to King's Landing easily. If the winds were favorable we could be in the capital within a Moon's Turn.

Myrcella considered the idea for a few moments before she shook her head. "Perhaps if my father still lived but… Joff is king now…"

He knew what she meant. Robb had not gotten along well with her brother when they were together at Winterfell, and he knew that Myrcella feared the day that her brother would be king. "If we are careful…"

"No… Robb… Even if we are careful… We won't be allowed to leave either, and…" She said before her voice broke. She moved his hand on her belly.

"You wouldn't trust Joffrey near our child?" Robb suggested.

Myrcella nodded with tears streaming down her face. "I lived with Joffrey's cruelties for years, Robb, even when our father still lived. I saw what he tried to do to me, and our siblings and stood up for them… But he didn't have a crown on his head then like he will now… I don't fear what he will do to me, or even to you but… You promised me that you would listen to me Robb… Listen to me now..."

Robb knew what she was trying to say. She would not risk any child of there's, no more than he would. He was shaking, he realized, but it was needed. "If answering their summons will not win father's freedom, then that only leaves this," he said, slightly unsheathing the sword at his belt.

"You mean to call the banners then my lord?" Maester Luwin asked him.

"Well, there doesn't seem to be any other way now is there?" Robb replied, feeling his voice was as shaky as he was now. He only felt better when he saw Jon nodding.

"I shall go draft the letters then." Luwin said, before he left up the stairs of the tower.

Robb felt nervous more than anything else. He was to be leading men to war now, and the notion excited and scared him both at once.

Author Notes:

Honestly I don't have much to say. The differences in the Stark family tree in the time before the Dance of the Dragons are largely already outlined in the Lore Alterations.

Thanks for reading as always guys, and thanks for all your follows, favorites and reviews.

I don't own ASOIAF.