The cool breeze sang softly in the godswood as Robb sat down on the moss-covered stone, a letter in hand. He carefully opened it and smiled to himself as he recognised the handwriting to be Princess Lyanna's.

It was the third letter that month and was filled from the top of the page to the very bottom of it in tiny writing. I should write back soon, thought Robb, feeling a little guilty as he was behind on his correspondence to his betrothed. He planned on writing earlier that day, but had been distracted by his direwolf, Grey Wind. It had been difficult deciding on his pup's name and he ended up choosing between Grey Wind and Frost; his direwolf pup seemed to respond better when he called him Grey Wind. Robb smiled as he remembered Grey Wind yapping happily as he bounded into the Great Hall and steal a piece of bacon straight from the Greatjon Umber's plate. When the Greatjon saw Grey Wind eating his bacon, he'd roared with laughter and threw him more bacon. Shaking his head with a chuckle, Robb settled down and gazed at Lyanna's letter.

My lord Robb,

By now you must be weary of my sudden flurry of letters to you my lord. You see, I have decided that until our wedding, I will write to you thrice a month as I doubt my lord father desires another journey to Winterfell and great uncle, the Blackfish, told me that Starks do not like heading south without good reason. I hardly think visiting your betrothed at her bequest counts as good reason.

I dined with your brother Brandon – or Bran, as he likes to remind me – on many occasions and he is a sweet boy. I'd hoped my great uncle the Blackfish would take him as his squire, but apparently Bran is to squire for Ser Barristan the Bold – a tremendous honour as Ser Barristan had not taken a squire in many years, or so I was told. Bran is a good friend of my brother Ormund and the two have spent their time exploring the Red Keep and sparring with wooden swords and shields in the tiltyard under the watchful eye of either Ser Barristan Selmy or one of his sworn brothers of the Kingsguard. Once Grandfather Hoster recovers, Mother plans to request a small host of household guards for herself and us to relieve Great Uncle Blackfish's rigorous duties as a sworn member of the Kingsguard and Mother's sworn shield. Do not fear for your brother, my lord. Bran will always be protected and no harm will come to him here in King's Landing.

How have you been, my lord? I fear I should have asked you that before I began writing about Bran. Is the North any warmer? Perhaps it is now colder as summer is coming to an end. In the godswood in the Red Keep, some of the leaves have already changed to orange. Are your brothers and sisters well? I hope to meet Lady Lyarra again and talking to Lady Arya is always a pleasure.

I hope to hear from you soon my lord.

Your betrothed,

Lyanna.

Robb read it again, delighted that Bran didn't seem homesick at all. Then again, Bran had always found everything in life an adventure. It is kind of Lyanna to tell me about Bran, thought Robb. She could've wrote on and on about sewing or any other dull activities enjoyed by noble ladies of her station, but she had elected to write to him about Bran instead.

The dry leaves scattered everywhere as the wind sang again. Robb closed his eyes. When the southron lords came to Winterfell, they were clothed from head to toe in furs. For a true Northerner like Robb, he did not feel as cold. They have not felt a Northern winter, he thought to himself. When the winds of winter come, they would all be blown away. He wondered if Lyanna Baratheon had the strong constitution needed to survive the harsh Northern winters. His father had always said that those of weak bodies would fall prey to winter first.

The wooden door creaked open. Robb opened an eye and saw Grey Wind trot towards him. Everywhere Robb went, Grey Wind followed. When he entered the godswood, he thought he had escaped his direwolf – apparently not. Grey Wind licked his hand eagerly. "How did you know I was here?" Robb said aloud. "You are one clever direwolf, Grey Wind."

"He followed me here."

Robb groaned. He loved his siblings but there was never a time he could have to himself without a slight disturbance. If he wasn't out in the courtyard training, he was learning about strategy, history, geography and a dozen other subjects in the schoolroom. If he finally thought he had time to spare, he would be called to the kitchens or the library or somewhere else in Winterfell to sort out a problem Grey Wind had unintentionally – or intentionally – caused.

"I saw Grey Wind sniffing around the courtyard by himself," said Jon, sitting down beside him. "You weren't there so I went looking." Grey Wind lost interest in licking Robb's hand and went off sniffing the heart tree suspiciously. The silent Ghost joined him.

"What's this?" said Jon, glancing at the letter in Robb's hand. "Is that a letter of love from a lady friend?"

"You sound like Theon," Robb retorted.

"Oh please. Theon would've said it twenty times more…inappropriate. Is that a letter from Lady Alys Karstark? I won't be surprised if her father ordered her to write you letters once in a while."

"No. It's from Lyanna." It sounded strange for him to speak her name aloud. "I owe her at least a dozen letters."

"She is eager to hear from you."

"I think…I think she wants our marriage to work. Not everyone is fortunate to fall in love during marriage. King Robert and Queen Catelyn were not in love but they do not despise each other. The Mad King and Rhaella were unhappy during their years of marriage. I too want to be happily married to Lyanna, but I don't…I don't want to be marrying a complete stranger."

Jon raised an eyebrow as he snuck a look at Robb's letter. "The princess isn't a complete stranger," he pointed out. "If she was, she wouldn't be writing so much to you. She most certainly wouldn't have mentioned Bran. Nor would she sign off with just her name. If you were betrothed to some haughty princess, she would have added a dozen titles with her name. Besides, you met and spent quite some time with Princess Lyanna when she visited Winterfell." He paused. "Or have you forgotten about it already? From what I heard, Princess Lyanna is kind, gracious and a lovely woman. Lyarra said that she was nothing like her father apart from inheriting his black hair and blue eyes like her siblings. If you wish to visit her in King's Landing, Father will surely let you go."

"I am the heir of Winterfell. My place is here, not in the south."

Jon snorted. "Who said you have to go and live in King's Landing? Maybe you can visit Lyanna Baratheon in Riverrun."

"Why Riverrun?" Admittedly it was closer than King's Landing, but he had no reason to go there. Wait…didn't Lyanna write that her grandfather was ill? Robb snatched the letter back and read it again. Once Grandfather Hoster recovers…he remembered Lady Melia mentioning in passing that Lord Hoster Tully had been bedridden for weeks.

"What is it?" said Jon, watching him, concerned. Robb slowly smiled. "By any chance, do you fancy a ride down to Riverrun?"


His lord father's expression did not change in the slightest as Robb asked for his permission to journey to Riverrun.

"That is an odd request Robb," Father said finally as Robb finished. "Quite an odd request indeed." His grey eyes flickered to Jon for a second. "And you wish to accompany him, Jon?"

Jon nodded. "I am thinking of…being knighted." Their father's eyebrows rose instantly. "Have you been listening to Lyarra's songs again?" he asked.

"No," said Jon seriously. "I have been thinking of my future. Even bastards can become good knights."

"Why go south? If you want to be a knight so much I will ask Ser Rodrik Cassel to knight you when you're of age. Don't fear about your future Jon. I promised…I promised your mother there will always be a place for you at Winterfell. Even if I happen to die tomorrow, I'm certain Robb will carry out my promise. Ashara will want you here, Jon. You know that don't you?"

"I've heard about Riverrun's beauty and wish to see it for myself."

Robb resisted arching an eyebrow at Jon's lie or partial truth. He glanced at his father who looked equally doubtful. "Lord Tully will find the sight of a bastard in his own home insulting," Father pointed out. "You know the Tully words. Robb, I intend to give you permission to travel throughout the Seven Kingdoms once of age and married and Jon, you are more than welcome to accompany him then. As for now, perhaps it will be wiser for you to stay here. Train more and you will be ready to be knighted in a few months or maybe a year."

"Oh."

Their father looked sympathetically at Jon. "I'll think about it," he assured him kindly. "Robb, when do you want to arrive at Riverrun?"

Robb had not thought of that. "Uh…in a few months?" he suggested.

"Even if Lord Tully happens to die before that?"

"I…I don't know." His father pushed a few papers to the side of his table. "You must plan it out quickly," he told Robb. "You want to journey to Riverrun, not me. It will be up to you to plan out your route, what you need and how many guards who will accompany you."

"Can I take Jon as one of my guards?"

His father groaned. "Robb. Will it put your mind to rest if I say I'll think about it?" Robb grinned. "Thank you Father." He was confident Father would allow Jon to accompany him to Riverrun eventually. He brightened as another thought had struck his mind. "Jon can find a suitable bride during our journey there," he said enthusiastically. Both his father and brother stared at him open-mouthed.

Jon was the first to recover. "You must be joking," he said quietly.

Robb shook his head. "You'll need to marry too!"

"Robb-" began his father but Jon interrupted. "You need to marry and beget a litter of Starks. I don't. The last thing the North wants are more Snows."

"Jon-"

"When you are knighted you can take a new name," Robb pointed out. "Elaena Targaryen's grandson was a Waters at birth but after he was knighted, he chose to take the name Longwaters. When you're knighted, you can always add another name to Snow."

"Like what?" Jon sounded almost sarcastic. "Blacksnow? Snowblood?"

"Boys!" Their father's voice rose. "If you want to argue, do so outside! Robb, I want you to prepare yourself for the trip to the Riverlands. Perhaps write a letter to Ser Edmure Tully to warn him of your intentions. The last thing you want is to be staying at a nearby inn due to lack of guest chambers at Riverrun. I doubt that there'll be no space left in Riverrun, but it will be good to inform Ser Edmure. Jon, if you want to be a knight so much, go and train."

"Yes Father," said Jon and Robb in unison. They left their father's solar.

"Why do you want to be a knight so much?" Robb said curiously. "I often heard Bran and Arthur talk about it, but you?"

Jon stared at the ground. "You're the heir of Winterfell. I don't expect an heir like you to know why I want to be a knight."

Robb's eyes widened. Jon's words had slapped him hard in the heart. "It does not matter if I'm legitimate and you're not," he said hotly. "I always think of you as my brother and always will! Tell me!"

"If I wed and have children, where will they go?"

"They-" Robb stopped. Not everyone wants a bastard's child in their home. He wondered if Lyanna would accept any of Jon's future children at Winterfell once he and she became the Lord and Lady of Winterfell. Lyanna Baratheon had been nothing but pleasant to Jon…but agreeing to have Jon's future children under the same roof? If it was King's Landing, Queen Catelyn certainly would not have it. "I don't know," said Robb lamely.

"Exactly."

"Father said you will be-"

"He promised my mother, the woman he refuses to speak of, that he will give me a good future. He didn't promise anything about my descendants."

"When did you mope so much?"

"When I realised-" Jon faltered. "It's nothing. I'll go and train. I'll see you later. Probably for supper." He hurried off before Robb could say another word. Robb sighed. Jon and his various moods.


"It is about time!" said Robb triumphantly, slapping Domeric on the back. "My congratulations, Domeric! You are fortunate to wed my sister! No other is more suited to be her husband than you!" His concerns over the Riverrun trip, Lyanna and Jon almost vanished once he'd heard the official announcement of Domeric and Lyarra's betrothal. He knew since the first time he spoke with Domeric that he would be his good-brother eventually. "Your father would have been a fool if he refused the honour," he added.

Domeric chuckled. "No one called my father a fool…to his face. If someone did, he would've surely earned himself a painful flaying." Robb laughed uneasily. Jon and Theon did not laugh.

"Such a pity," remarked Theon jokingly. "I was quite hoping Lord Stark would reward me with your sister."

Jon snorted. "As if Lord Stark would give you Lyarra. The most you can pray for is receiving Arya."

Theon snickered though he looked thoughtful. "Oh by the gods," Robb groaned, shaking his head at the Greyjoy heir. "You cannot be honestly thinking of having Arya as your wife! She'll beat you to a bloody pulp before you can even drag her in front of the heart tree!"

"I'm of the Drowned God," Theon reminded him. "If I come breaking my fast covered with scratches…" He scoffed. Robb snorted. "The Ironborn will like her though," Theon continued. "Arya is no simpering maid."

"Arya will chop off your balls before you can consummate your marriage," Jon muttered. Theon glared at him.

"Congratulations," Robb told Domeric again. "Is it true there'll be a betrothal feast for the two of you tonight?"

Domeric nodded. "Lord Umber insisted."

"You better get prepared then! I doubt Lyarra will be pleased to see you still sweaty and stinking of hours of training."

"Indeed. I'll see you at the feast." Domeric nodded at them and departed. With an exaggerated sigh, Theon announced. "Ah! There is still time for me to go and fuck a whore! Any of you want to join us?" He winked suggestively. Jon shot him a disgusted look. "What about you?" Theon looked at Robb. "You must come with me to the brothels someday before your wedding. You must have experience and know what you're doing when you bed her." He cackled.

Robb flushed. "That is years away-"

Theon snickered even louder. "You're a man and she's a woman," he sniggered with a mischievous grin lurking near his lips. "Many have married younger than you already. One day in the near future, the king will demand for you to finally wed his precious daughter. What if it catches you unaware? The last thing your future wife will want is you fumbling around with no clue how to pleasure her or where to stick your-"

"Robb," Jon cut in. "May I have a word with you?"

"Of course." Relieved, Robb followed Jon to his room, leaving Theon heading to the brothel alone. "What is it you want to talk about?"

"Daenerys," said Jon promptly. "I was training with her and she seemed…quite distracted." It seemed you were distracted too, thought Robb. "Apparently there is someone harassing her," Jon went on, "every night too. She came to me last night and slept on my bed. She said she still heard creaking. She told Father, but I want to know how stone ground can creak. I didn't inquire about it to Dany, but it is an interesting thought do you not agree?"

"I suppose…"

"That's not the point. As her friend, I plan to help her. I want to catch the man – or woman – who has the nerve of stalking and frightening her. I need your help in this. And Arya's. Probably."

"Of course I'll help," said Robb at once. "Is Dany alright? What do you want me to do? Does Father know of your plan?"

"No! He wouldn't agree to it! Father would say we're still boys and forbid us to go ahead with the plan. You know that!"

"What do we do? Stake out her rooms?"

Jon nodded. "Daenerys said that Maester Luwin will give her a sleeping draft or something, but I told her not to drink it tonight – we need to know if she hears the creaking again. Tomorrow night we will be ready."

"Will you tell Theon and Domeric?"

Jon made a face. "Domeric yes, Theon…I'm afraid he'll make a joke out of the whole thing, but Daenerys said that we might need a good archer. Dany is telling Arya about the plans as we speak. I think."

"And Lyarra?"

"Dany's in favour of Lyarra being aware of it."

Robb sighed. "I rather none of our sisters getting involved in this…" He slowly scratched his head. He wanted to say that both Lyarra and Arya were too young to be involved in staking out Dany's room; he wanted to tell Jon that staking out a chamber was not meant to be a woman's task, but he knew if both sisters found out he said it, they would be enraged. Arya would no doubt punch him – Lyarra would be furious. When they were children, Lyarra pretended she was Rhaenys Targaryen (until Father told them to stop re-enacting Aegon's Conquest for an unknown reason) while Arya preferred to be brave Danny Flint. Robb still didn't have the heart to tell her about Danny Flint's fate.

"Lyarra is no southron rose," Jon said flatly.

"She isn't Arya," said Robb uncertainly. "What happens if there is an assassin here in Winterfell who plans to kill all of us beginning with Dany? We – and Arya – can protect ourselves, but Lyarra can't. Domeric wouldn't even let her hold his sword! Maybe she should train with us."

"I doubt your mother would be particularly pleased."

"I will talk to Lyarra about it in the feast."

Jon nodded. "I will talk to Theon." He paused. "Robb, I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to lash out at you. It's just…I don't understand why I am here. Many lords abandon their bastards or at the most, acknowledge them. Not many take them in. For a while, I thought, I hoped, that Father would ask the king to have me legitimised someday…" His voice trailed away.

"Enjoy life while you can," advised Robb. "Don't dwell on why you're a bastard. Probably Father wants to announce your legitimisation on your sixteenth name day or something. Mayhaps he intends it to be a surprise." He patted his brother on the shoulder. "Come, we have a feast to prepare for."


This chapter was another difficult one to write. Lengthening it was more the problem than the actual mini plot I allotted the chapter. Anyway, I've decided for this chapter and the next two to be all set in Winterfell. Next chapter will be Arya's POV :) I'll try and upload another chapter for The Bolton Bride, but my interest in The Dance of Spring was kind of renewed haha.