Chapter 1: Dark Wings, Dark Words
This chapter takes place after Robb received Sansa's letter from King's Landing.
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299 AC
THE NORTH
WINTERFELL
ROBB STARK
"Call the banners" The voice that spoke was cold and demanding, belonging to a lord giving a command to his subjects. It was hard to believe the voice was his own. But to be honest it was hard to believe that everything going on was real.
Robert Hoster Stark cannot believe that his entire life is falling before his eyes.
His father imprisoned and proclaimed a traitor, his sweet little sister, his Sansa, being held prisoner by the Lion Bitch and her Lunatic Boy King.
"I swear I will burn King's Landing to the ground if something happened to my sweet sister" Robb thought snarling like a Direwolf.
At least his other Sister Arya is still safe in Winterfell. She had refused to go with father, when he had made his journey south with King Robert to take his position as Hand Of The King, and judging by the look on her face she was regretting that.
He shook his head before looking at peace of paper, that was stating his father's arrest in the capital and Boy King demanding Robb to come to the capital and swear his fealty to king Joffery.
"Fealty my ass" he snorted "He is a bigger fool than I thought if he thinks that I will come to the capital like a kicked dog"
No, he is not a dog on a leash that can be summoned whenever his master likes.
No, he is Direwolf, a very hungry and angry Direwolf.
If his grace wants him to come to King's Landing he will go to King's Landing. But not alone.
He is coming with an army of vengeful Northmen who wants justice for their Lord being wrongly imprisoned.
The thought about leading an army made him both excited and a little nervous. For his entire life he had been taught by his father on how to be a good lord on how to lead armies into war and how to take care of Small Folk. But even then he was still a boy five and ten namedays. And while he had done remarkable well in managing Winterfell and made sure that trade flows well through Winter City in the absence of his father, he knows that ruling and leading are two different things.
"Robb" he broke out of his dark musings and looked at his sister. Arya was a Stark in both looks and behaviour. While She and Sansa are both twins they are polar opposite to each other. While Sansa is a prim and proper lady with her courtesy and needle works, Arya was the definition of warrior women with her Sword and Bow.
His mother was at first reluctant to let Arya practice in the Tiltyard to learn the arts of war but after much coaxing from him and his brother Jon, she had finally relented.
Thinking of his half brother filled Robb with sadness. He had pleaded to Jon to not to join the Night's Watch saying that his father will ask King Robert to legitimise him as a stark and he will be given his own lands to rule. All his siblings and even his mother had requested not to join. But Jon was too stubborn to listen saying that if he stayed at Winterfell he will always be in his brother's shadow and in Night's Watch he can make a name for himself.
"I'm ok don't worry" He waved Arya off and took a deep breadth. He can't afford to show weakness not even to his own Sister.
He turned to look at Theon, his brother in all but blood, who was watching him with a curious look. His usual cocky smile was not present as even he understood the implication of what is happening.
"Theon help maester Luwin with the Ravens" He said to his best friend.
"Alright" Theon nodded "But where are you going"
"I am going to the Goodswood to pray" He answered before rising from the chair and walking out of the great Hall.
The walk was short, Robb quickly walking out of the Great Hall, past the Sept his father had build for his mother and straight through the courtyard.
People quickly steeped aside to let the 6 ft tall young lord of Winterfell pass by them. He paid them no heed his steps were strong, his strides wide as he stormed through Winterfell till he reached the Godswood and was hit by a wave of tranquility.
Like always, it was a beautiful place, quiet and undisturbed by men.
Closing his eyes, Robb let himself just bask in the environment, letting it seep into his bones and calm him. He desperately needed it, despite his calm exterior, his emotions were turbulent and wild, fraught with worry and doubt.
And as he opened his eyes, they settled on the one thing he came here to view.
The giant Weirwood tree that sat in the centre of the Godswood. In ancient times long since passed in the Age of Heroes, the founder of House Stark, Bran the Builder had built the Godswood around this very tree. Winterfell later being erected by the very same man, surrounding the Godswood.
Crouching down, Robb clasped his hands together and bowed his heads. It was a pose his mother had taught him when she had attempted to teach her children of the Southern Gods, the Seven. Robb, just like all of his siblings had never taken to the Seven very well.
He paused for a few seconds before praying"I don't know what is happening but please let my father be safe, please protect Sansa from the queen, please protect my mother trapped inRiverrun, please gods of the old, please"
As always no answer came, and he chuckled to himself "Who am I kidding" he murmured to himself "Why will the gods listen to the plight of a mere mortal."
He sighed before rising to his his feet to leave the Godswood. But before he can take a step he was suddenly hit by a wave of nausea, and before he can ask for help he passed out.
When he opened his eyes he saw nothing but darkness surrounding him.
He frowned before saying "Hello?".
No answer.
He said again but this time louder "Hello, can anyone hear me?"
Again, no answer.
He shouted this time in both anger and frustration "Can anyone hear me? Am I alone in here?"
"Oh you scream too much little wolf" A raspy voice said from behind him.
He whipped around and came face to face with an middle aged man.
The man had a long face with typical Stark Grey eyes and shaggy brown hair. He is wearing Stark colours with a snarling Direwolf woven in the centre of his clothing. He was also wearing a Bronze Crown with the runes of first men and nine iron spikes shaped like Longswords.
Robb squinted his eyes. He cannot help but feel that this man look somewhat familiar even though he had never meet him. He looks like a Stark that was a given with his Grey eyes and wearing Stark colours.
"Wait, Stark colours, long Face, And a bronze crown of winter can he be" his eyes widened as he recognised the figure standing in front of him"no way, it can't be him"
The man smirked seeing his shocked look "Looks like you finally found out who i am, took you long enough wolf pup" He drawled sarcastically "Even then let me introduce myself" He smirked before bowing mockingly " I am Theon Stark, but you will know me better as The Hungry Wolf, The Bane of Andals and The Ravager of Andalos"
"But eh h..how?" Robb asked dumbfounded and wondered if he was halicunating.
"Magic of the old Gods and let's leave it to that" The hungry wolf answered with the same smirk.
"Wait, magic is real?" Robb asked amazed.
Theon chuckled at his enthusiasm "Of course they are real, it's the reason I am standing in front of you"
"Then what are you doing hear? What do you want from me"
"Well you did asked for advice from the old gods and I am here to provide" Theon shrugged.
Robb eyes widened with surprise and excitement. Theon Stark was considered one of the greatest war commander and tactician that Westeros had ever seen as he had defeated a numerical and technological superior foe with nothing but cunning tactics and grim determination. He was regarded as a hero in the North as it was him who defended the North from the Andal Invasion.
He was also one of Robb's role figurehead . He was always fascinated with the Hungry Wolf and he had spent hours in Winterfell's immense library reading all the tactics he used during the Andal War.
And now learning that he was about to receive advice from one of his role figurehead filled Robb with a giddy feeling.
"What is it" Robb asked refraining himself from bouncing up and down in excitement.
"Only one" Theon paused before looking Robb right in the eye and said in a serious tone "Forsake Honour"
"Huh" Robb asked confused.
"If you want to win this coming war you have to forsake your Honour" Theon said seriously.
Robb felt a feeling of dread in the pit of of his stomach. For all his life his father had taught him and all his siblings about the code of honour and how to live with it. And now one of his role figurehead is telling him to throw all his life teachings of his father like nothing.
"What do you mean by that" Robb demanded "You mean that I throw all of the teachings of my father, the same fatherr that I am trying to rescue"
"Yes" he replied simple "If you are going to win this war then it's a necessary sacrifice don't you think"
"I can't do that" Robb shouted "Honour is what defines House Stark"
"Don't shout at your elders boy" Theon snarled silencing Robb "And if you think honour defines House Stark then you are a fool"
Seeing Robb's shocked look he continued " You say that honour defines us, do you know what the Old Kings Of Winter did to their enemies boy" Robb shook his head no "They sacrificed them to the Weirwood trees, the cut their belly open and strangled their guts with tree branches for a slow torturous death"
Robb looked shocked at that, while he did know that often prisoners or deserters who were sentenced to death were often beheaded in front of Weirwood trees, he didn't know anything about blood sacrifice.
"The Old Kings even gave their enemies to the Boltons, to be flayed alive for any information" Theon continued further horrifying the young Lord of Winterfell.
Theon paused before looking at Robb and asking "Do you know what I did to the Andals"
Robb gupled, of course he have heard it, everybody in the seven kingdoms have heard how the Hungry Wolf ransacked the entire island of Andalos, how he had butchered every single men, women and children before mounting there heads on spikes in the coast of the north as a warning of any would be invaders.
"So now you see" Theon began "It wasn't honour that helped me to win the war against those seven worshipping curs, but fear and blood did" He looked at Robb in the eye "I put the fear of the old gods in them and after that they didn't dared to attack us again"
"But my father..." he began but Theon cut him off.
"Is rotting in a cell for his precious honour" Theon roared " Your younger brother is crippled and your sister being prisoner of the enemy and all you still care about is your precious honour"
Robb stumbled back a bit, taking deep breaths before looking at the man standing in front of him "Forsake Honour"
"Forsake Honour" Theon agreed.
Suddenly the background is covered in light.
"Well looks like it is time for you to wake up" Theon noted before turning his back on him and beginning to walk away.
"Wait" Robb shouted but he suddenly felt dizzy as his eyes dropped.
"Good luck Young Wolf, you are gonna need it" It was the last thing he heard before falling into slumber.
Robb's eyes shot open as woke up with a gasp.
He looked around frantically breathing before turning to look at the Weirwood tree in shock.
ForsakeHonour
Your real Robb muttered breathlessly before he began chuckling which turned into a full grown laughter.
"Forsake honour" he muttered before turning around the direction of the exit of the Godswood and began walking out leaving the sacred place behind.
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And Done!
So this is the first chapter of the Northern Crusade. This story is sequel to the Rise Of The North.
If you like it please leave a comment as you know reviews are food for a writer's soul.