Changing roles
Time passes. Day after day. Week after week.
Catelyn is watching her son, alarmed.
She is watching him sitting in his father chair in the great hall. She knows her son still thinks of it as his father's chair and feels strange, ill-fitting to sit in it. Or rather, he feels himself strange and ill-fitting there.
Yet, he keeps silent.
She is watching him while they talk about alliances and hostilities amongst the northern houses. And Robb frowns, edgily.
Yet, he does not say a word.
She is watching how he becomes more and more frightened.
More and more tense.
Then, one day when they are in the solar and Catelyn is explaining how a lord's claim for a land can be as rightful as another's based on old contracts and what decision Robb should make, when Robb slams his hand on the table.
"Enough!"
He brushes aside all the parchments and shoots out of the solar.
Catelyn does not follow him. It would not be wise now. Robb must be as fed up with her counsels and explanations and reassuring words as he is fed up with the duties and responsibilities of being the Lord. But solitude – being lost in his own thoughts – cannot help him. Catelyn cannot help him either. But someone else might be able to.
She rushes into the chamber where Snow sits with Maester Luwin leaning over a map of Westeros.
Both of them look up at her, surprised. Later she is going to apologize to the Maester, but first she turns to Snow because now she is desperate enough to do that.
"Robb and I argued. Go and find him."
Finding Robb is quite easy, actually.
He must be have been upset, so, Jon presumed, he just started running without any destination in mind. And the best place for being alone is the godswood of Winterfell.
Robb apparently hears his steps on the leaves and branches, because he quickly dries his eyes before looking up at him.
"Jon?" He sighs with relief. "I thought my mother came."
Jon sits down on a rock beside him on the shore of the small, dark pool.
"What's wrong?"
Robb shakes his head. And Jon does not push him, he waits.
"I… I wanted to do everything well," Robb says after a while. "I really tried but… I cannot."
Tears are running down on his face again, but this time, he does not care about wiping them off.
Robb is not just sad. He is angry.
"I don't want to be the Lord of Winterfell," he confesses. "I want Father to be here. I want my mother not to be disappointed in me."
Robb was born to be Lord of Winterfell. It is far too soon for that, it is not fair with him (Father's death was not fair with none of them), but Jon trusts in his brother, believes in him, though that is not the good thing to say now. So he chooses something else, something equally important and true.
"You are not alone. I mean… you are alone in a lot of things I cannot help you with. But I'm here, if you need me."
Robb nods. "I do."
They sit in silence for a while.
"Shouldn't you be at a lesson with Maester Luwin?" Robb asks.
"I was, but Lady Stark sent me after you."
"Mother wants me to go back? Because I won't."
"She didn't mention that."
"Why then?"
Jon shrugs. "I don't know. To cheer you up?"
Doubtful curiosity appears on Robb's face. "How?"
He almost shrugs again, then, something comes to his mind. "By pointing out that we're probably free until dinner?"
And finally, his brother gives him a slight smile.
Catelyn is watching her son. He is running through the courtyard with Snow towards the stables or the walls. Good.
A lot of issues would demand his attention, but it does not matter now. Catelyn could handle them.
For the most part, Robb has to be Lord of Winterfell. But sometimes he needs Jon Snow to be only a boy.
