Bleary-eyed, Robb sat down at one of the trestle tables and poked his portion of hot porridge with his spoon. On any other morning, he would have been quite ravenously hungry; after a night in the taverns and brothels with Theon Greyjoy, Robb longed for his bed.

I am such a fool, Robb thought tiredly. Such a fool. I should not have went with Theon last night. It had been fun once in a while, sneaking to the taverns, but now with a dozen more responsibilities as heir…

"Why are you still here?" asked Jon, sliding onto the seat opposite him. "Isn't it about time for you to be with Father in his solar? I saw a number of lords already heading to the Great Keep."

"I should have listened to you," Robb grumbled, rubbing his eyes.

Jon cracked a smile. "Theon?" His smile widened as Robb affirmed with a quiet grunt. "You should've just left him in the tavern," said Jon, reaching for a piece of bread, "or the brothel. I don't understand why you wait for him there. You know you have duties to attend to now. Greyjoy can't expect you to be his drinking and whoring companion forever."

Robb nodded half-heartedly. He considered Theon as much his brother as Jon, Bran, Arthur and Rickon and of course Domeric who would be his brother by law in a few months' time. "I should go now," he said, pushing the bowl of porridge to Jon. "Father will be wondering where I am."

"Why are you giving the porridge to me?"

Robb shrugged. "You look hungry." Before Jon could retort, Robb stood up and hurried out of the Great Hall. As he briskly walked to the Great Keep, he glimpsed Dany wandering out of the godswood despondently. She looked so beautiful…yet so sad. Robb wanted to call out to her, ask if she was well – he did not. Her silver-blonde hair fell against her shoulders and her beautiful purple eyes were glazed with thought and contemplation.

"Robb! What are you doing, just standing there?" Robb spun around, blushing as he quickly met the stern gaze of Maester Luwin. "You've been expected in your father's solar for fifteen minutes!" the maester reprimanded. "Must I always be a sort of nursemaid? Coming to find you every time you are expected to greet and speak to your father's bannermen?" He huffed. "You are not a boy anymore, Robb. Now come before Lords Karstark and Umber and your father are forced to wait a minute more for you." Robb followed him inside, his cheeks still hot. He glanced back and saw Dany stare at him, a small smile lingering on her lips.

Robb could not help but grin. I will speak to her later, he decided. Perhaps she missed Lyarra. The two of them were so close when Lyarra was at Winterfell. As close as sisters probably. Maester Luwin looked at Robb. "You are a good lad, you know," he said quietly. "A hardworking young man."

"Thank you Maester," Robb mumbled.

"You should embrace your duties more willingly, Robb. You are still playing as heir, Robb. You must start acting as heir."

Robb frowned. "What do you mean, Maester Luwin? I've been attending all the meetings and petition sessions and I've also discussed sentencing with Father. Is that not embracing my duty?"

"There is more to it than listening in petition sessions and offering little pieces of advice when asked. Try and lead the diplomatic discussion this time, Robb. If your father is called south, you will be acting lord. Northerners will not listen or trust a nervous, silent boy with the name Stark. They want to follow a man. Your father will understand the educational purposes of you leading the conversation, Robb. How did you improve your skills with the sword?"

"Practice."

"How will you improve your skills as a statesman?"

"Practice."

Maester Luwin nodded. "Practice," he repeated. "Practice is key, Robb. I know you'll be a fine lord one day. A just lord. All you need to do is practice." He smiled at him and knocked on the lord's solar. He pushed the door open. "Your son Robb is here my lord," he called. He looked at Robb. Practice, his eyes told him. A little nervous after Maester Luwin's lecture, Robb entered his father's solar. Noticing Lords Karstark and Umber sitting across from Father already did not do much to steady his nerves.

"Robb," Father acknowledged. "I believe you know Lord Karstark and Lord Jon Umber?" He looked at the visiting lords. "My lords, my heir Robb."

"Lord Umber, Lord Karstark," said Robb, smiling politely at the two lords who nodded back at him, grins on their faces. Closest to him was his distant kinsman, Rickard Karstark, Lord of Karhold. He was gaunt and large, taller than Father by half a head. His thick grey hair and beard were loose past his shoulders, touching the brown furred mantle of his bear fur cloak. Though Lord Karstark was tall, Jon 'Greatjon' Umber was even larger, nearly seven feet tall. His mane of brown hair and his beard had greyed quite considerably and his face was ruddier than Lord Karstark's. Much more ruddier.

"I see you have started bringing Robb to meetings," Lord Karstark commented to Father. "I did the same with my heir Harrion when he was Robb's age. Harrion is acting Lord of Karhold now I am here. Last time Harrion was acting lord, a few wildlings were captured and he dispensed justice. He executed them himself." He held Robb's gaze firmly. "One was a child, but the law can be harsh can it not, my lord Stark?" Robb broke away to see Father nod in agreement.

"We will speak more of those bastard wildlings later," spoke Lord Umber. "Let us tell Lord Stark and Robb the good news first."

To Robb's surprise, Lord Karstark nodded. "My good-daughter Jocelyn, Lord Umber's eldest daughter, gave birth to a son, Edwyle. Named after you of course my lord Stark. A healthy boy."

"Congratulations," said Robb warmly. "Both of you must be pleased."

"Delighted!" declared Lord Umber. "Grandfather at last!" He softened. "I would be bloody pleased if it was a girl," he added. "If she was an Umber, I would teach her to wield a sword myself."

"Furthermore," Lord Karstark continued. "My third son Eddard is set to marry Lady Mormont's daughter Lyra. I would be honoured if you, Lady Stark and your children and wards attend. We are kin after all, are we not?"

"When is the wedding my lord?" inquired Father.

"In a few months' time." Lord Karstark's eyes gleamed. "I wish to find Torrhen a wife," he explained. "A double wedding if possible."

Lord Umber snorted. "Why the hurry, Lord Karstark? Are you in fear you'll die without a Karstark heir? Must I remind you that you have three sons, a daughter, a Karstark grandson, at least one uncle and five Karstark cousins?"

Lord Karstark scowled at him. "Too many male heirs are a curse too. My uncle has been eyeing Karhold for decades, my lord Umber. Decades. He still hopes that my sons, little Edwyle and I will be all struck dead tomorrow so he can force Alys to marry that horrible son of his. The sooner Alys marries Daryn Hornwood the better for us all."

"Except your uncle," Lord Umber muttered.

"My lords," said Robb quickly before Lord Karstark could reply. "We still have plenty of time to discuss succession crises and the curse of too many sons, but it might be wise to turn the conversation to your concerns? Is that not why both of you travelled to Winterfell, my lords?"

"Young Stark has a point," grunted Lord Umber. "The problems Lord Karstark and I are faced with are wildlings, young Stark." He leant forward. "Have you seen a wildling before, young Stark? Killed one perhaps?"

Robb shook his head. "None have been foolish enough to venture to or close to Winterfell my lord."

"Oh they will soon enough, young Stark. They are growing bolder as we speak. By the end of autumn, they will be here at Winterfell's doorstep." With a satisfied grunt, Lord Umber leant back against his chair. "The Night's Watch is no longer a good defence, young Stark. More wildlings have been seen on my lands and those of Lord Karstark and other nearby lords. Even if we have more men, what are we to do? Execute them all? Only more will come!"

"You do not execute all of them Lord Umber," muttered Lord Karstark, sliding him a knowing look.

Bang.

The cups, ink pot and quills shook as Lord Umber thumped his fist down onto the table ferociously. "That is a filthy lie, Karstark," he growled.

"No violence here please," said Robb calmly. "If you wish to settle an argument through other more aggressive means, do so outside of Winterfell. Both of you've elected to come here to discuss matters civilly, not argue. Lord Umber, what have you been doing to the wildlings if not executing them?"

Lord Umber flushed, his cheeks a shade of angry red. "Men's business," he said, blustering as badly as the Fat Flower of Highgarden. "You are only a boy – one of honour at that too – what do you know about men's business?"

Realisation dawned. "Oh," said Robb, biting in a blush. "Oh…" He glanced at his father whose expression revealed naught. Was it a crime to bed a wildling? It was no surprise that Lord Umber liked the company of women other than his wife – a wildling though? Furthermore, how in the gods did Lord Karstark discover it? It was one thing to be friendly with your in-laws; Robb doubted Lord Umber would tell such a secret to Lord Karstark over supper. Perhaps Lord Umber allowed it to slip when he drank too much wine one night.

"And your son, Lord Umber?" prompted Lord Karstark.

Lord Umber glowered at him, his thick fingers itching towards his enormous, and rather ugly greatsword. "Lord Umber!" said Robb sharply. "If you plan to kill Lord Karstark, it will be you I behead for kinslaying and murdering a fellow lord of the north. Do you want there to be eternal bloodshed between your House and House Karstark? Do you wish for the north to have our own Blackwood-Bracken feud? We will not appreciate it my lord."

"BEHEAD ME?" Ink skittered all over Father's papers as Lord Umber stood up, glaring down at Robb. "AND WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE TO ISSUE A THREAT TO BEHEAD ME, BOY?"

"Lord Umber-" Father tried to say, but Lord Umber would have none of it. "I'll be DAMNED if I'm to be threatened by a boy," he growled, slamming his fist down on the table again. "Have you even killed a man, boy? Do you know what it is like to take a man's life, eh?"

The door creaked open and Grey Wind padded in. Both the lords stared at him and he stared back with his yellow eyes. Robb smiled. "My lords, I believe you do not need to be introduced to my direwolf, Grey Wind?" Grey Wind uttered a quiet growl, his eyes still fixed on Lord Umber.

Lord Umber did not seem at all impressed or frightened.

"You think I am frightened of a mere dog?" he snarled.

"Lord Umber-" Father attempted again, but Lord Umber seemed to have gone beyond the point of reasoning – and over something Lord Karstark said. As Lord Umber continued ranting, Robb glanced at the Lord Karstark. Though his brown eyes glittered briefly with amusement, he had retained a neutral expression. Last Robb spoke to the two lords were during feasts – both were polite and caused no arguments. It was astonishing how quickly rage overtook Lord Umber.

"LORD UMBER!" Robb shouted, standing up. "THIS IS NOT LAST HEARTH!" He stared at the angry lord straight in the eye. Grey Wind growled again warningly. Robb sighed with relief as sanity seemed to have grasped the Lord of Last Hearth at last. Lord Umber glowered at him for a solid moment before sitting back down grudgingly. "You have a strong voice, young Stark," he acknowledged. "Good for the battlefield. Hmmph. Very good for the battlefield."

"Lord Umber," said Robb, more calmly. "What did Lord Karstark mean by your son? Did he torture a wildling or the like?"

Lord Umber snorted, the red flush on his cheeks disappearing slowly. "If one of my sons did torture a wildling, you should be rejoicing, young Stark. One might finally give up wildling secrets. Highly unlikely, but one could always hope, eh? A wildling is likely to give up information as much as an Other returning!" He then chuckled before darkening. "No, what my son did…it was unforgivable."

"What is it my lord?" inquired Robb carefully.

Lord Umber narrowed his eyes. "Do you think me a bloody fool, boy? Though you are Lord Stark's heir, you are still a boy! I'll not have you running around and telling your friends my secrets." He looked at Father. "My lord Stark, as a favour, can you please dismiss your son?"


Slightly humiliated at being removed from Father's solar, Robb moped around in the library. He was in no mood to train in the courtyard. As he usually did, Jon would ask how the session in the solar went – Robb had no desire to inform him that it went horribly.

"You need not fear the giants, Robb Stark."

Robb suppressed a groan and forced a smile on his face as he turned and saw the heir of Greywater Watch watching him with his peculiarly green eyes. "Good afternoon Jojen," greeted Robb. "What are you doing here?"

Jojen Reed glanced around at the shelves stuffed with books and then at a few of the ancient scrolls lying on one of the tables. "I trained with Jon in the morning and he suggested I train with you too," he said mildly. "The old gods told me that I would find you here."

"The old gods?" Scepticism entered Robb's voice. He heard that Jojen was not like other crannogmen and received puzzling dreams of sorts. Green dreams, they were called. Robb knew about green dreams from Old Nan's stories, but he never knew any that came true. Jojen Reed was clearly different, but hearing the words from the old gods? Absurd.. Jojen is a ward here, Robb reminded himself. He's not like Theon or Domeric who are practically your brothers. It will do you no good to doubt his words. Besides, Father would not appreciate it if it is thought the heir of Greywater Watch was mad or delusional. "Are you certain it was not the maester or one of the servants who told you I was here?" asked Robb.

Jojen shook his head. "Jon said you would usually join him in sparring in a few hours. Well, you did not show up and I had no desire to spar with Theon, so I had decided to go to the godswood instead. It is a place of tranquillity, Robb. If I could, I would stay in the godswood all day. Anyway, when I closed my eyes, I heard the old gods speak to me. They mentioned you."

"I…see. Do you want me to spar with you now?"

"Oh no, Robb. I had enough of sparring this morning. There is something that I must warn you about." He paused. "I had another green dream."

Robb stifled a groan. Another one? "Will you tell my father?"

"It concerns you and the flayed man, Robb Stark. I did not want to worry Lord Stark about it yet."

"Jojen, is this what you told Lyarra before she left? Beware of the flayed man? I believe her betrothed's House sigil is a flayed man."

Jojen shook his head. "I told her she should not go south. Robb, there will be a great deal of bloodshed between you and the flayed man. A bloodbath. I saw the courtyard washed in blood."

"I will keep that in mind," promised Robb. "Where is your sister?"

"Teaching your sister how to hunt frogs," answered Jojen. "Yesterday I saw the Lady Arya showing Lady Stark her first successfully caught frog." He smiled. "I do not think Lady Stark was too pleased at that. I hope you do not take offense, Robb, but I believe Lady Arya would've adapted well to crannogmen culture."

Robb's eyebrows rose. "Are you suggesting you wish to marry Arya?" A Stark had not married a crannogman in centuries!

"Who wishes to marry Arya?" Daenerys walked up to them. "Jojen!" she said in surprise. "I did not see you here!"

"Lady Daenerys Sand," said Jojen, his eyes swivelling to her. "I believe Robb is only japing, Lady Daenerys. I have no intention of wedding the Lady Arya Stark – or anyone for that matter. It is not my destiny to marry and father children or be the next Lord of Greywater Watch. The old gods have plans for me – they have all made plans for all of us. You, Robb, and you, Lady Daenerys too."

Robb automatically moved closer to Dany as she shivered. "I think I will escort Lady Daenerys back to her chambers," he said quickly to Jojen. "I expect I will be seeing you at supper, Jojen?"

The little crannogman nodded. "I will see you at supper Robb Stark." He stared at Dany for a moment. "My lady."

Robb managed a grin and hurriedly led Dany away. "He is so solemn for a boy his age," whispered Dany. "I cannot believe we are older than him."

"Do you know what Theon calls him?"

"Bog devil?"

"Well, that too," Robb conceded. "He also calls him a little grandfather. Doesn't that suit him well though? Little grandfather!" Daenerys laughed. Robb smiled at her. It warmed his heart to hear her giggle and laugh.

Robb hesitated for a moment. "Is there something the matter?" he said finally, halting in his tracks. "I saw you earlier today; you looked upset."

Dany gave him a sad smile. "I could not sleep last night. In the morning, I grew tired of tossing and turning so I decided to pray in the godswood. Well, more like to reminisce in the godswood. The godswood is so quiet – ideal for reminiscing I think. I remember when we were children and would play all day. Monsters-and-maidens was a particular favourite, remember? Come-into-my-castle was one I'd also remembered." Her smile faded slightly. "Do you recall knights and damsels? Lyarra would always be the princess, you and Domeric the knights. Theon would be the villain and Jon would refuse to play."

"You did not either," Robb recalled. "Why not?"

"I did," said Dany secretively. "I would play it with Jon. He would be the knight and I the princess." She blushed. "I didn't want to play it with you and Lyarra and the others as…I am a bastard after all. Not even a northern bastard. Even though I've been living here all my life, but when I look in the mirror, I still see a Dornish girl. A Dornish bastard." The last few words were uttered bitterly.

Robb reached out and squeezed her hand. "You are a northerner and you are a Stark as much as I am," he told her. "Father and Mother raised you a Stark; by the gods, even Theon was raised to be a Stark! If you were my sister, I would insist to the king to legitimise you and Jon as a wedding gift." However, Daenerys was not his half-sister. When Jon was away, Dany had kept him company for quite a bit at breakfast, lunch and supper. She would watch him spar and train and once they'd rode out for a whole day together.

You can always marry her, whispered a voice in Robb's head. Wed her and she will no longer be Daenerys Sand. She will be Lady Daenerys Stark, the future Lady of Winterfell. Robb's grip on Dany's hand tightened.

"What is it?" said Daenerys, concerned.

Marriage…what of Lyanna Baratheon? The friendship between Father and the king? The alliance between the north and south? Father and Mother love you – it will be easy for them to forgive you. The northern lords? Surely Robb could not be the first nobleman of the North to consider wedding a Snow (or this case a Sand)! What of the king? Banishing the thoughts of doubt, Robb pulled Daenerys closer to him and pressed his lips against hers.

They stood there for what felt like a hundred years, swaying as passion rose in Robb's heart. He finally broke away but gazed at her, his violet eyes shining with infatuation. He held Dany's hand tighter and said softly, "Marry me."


Many of you have commented that Roose wouldn't be so easily fooled by Ramsay being Reek and you're right - he wouldn't be fooled. However, the last chapter was in Ramsay's POV so we technically only know what's happening through Ramsay's perspective and he believes he is fooling Roose. There will be more explanation when it's in Roose's POV (2 chapters' time). I remember reading somewhere that identity is essential in ASOIAF hence Theon and Arya's different chapter names (Eg. Reek, Cat of the Canals...). With Ramsay now planning to remove the Reek disguise, his next POV will be Ramsay. I hope that clears it up for you :)

Now in this chapter, I didn't plan on Robb asking Dany to marry him so soon, but when I wrote it today, it just felt...right? I do need this story to move a little otherwise the characters are kind of just lingering around in the same spot. Oh yes, and I thought Houses Umber and Karstark would have a good relationship/beneficial alliance as their lands are near each other.