Honor & Fealty chapter 17
Upon their arrival at Deepwood Motte, House Glover greeted the Mormonts and the Starks.
While servants fed the horses, others were preparing the longboat for the journey across the water to Bear Island. That gave the Mormont women time to talk with Arya and Bran.
"What is it going to be like when we get to Bear Island, Jorelle?" Bran asked Jorelle as Lyanna stood at his right and Arya stood at Jorelle's left.
"Six days of training and chores. The seventh day, we get to use at our leisure but those of us who are trained have to keep our weapons at all times if we leave Mormont Keep." Jorelle explained.
"There are rivers and even a waterfall on Bear Island. Bran is going to love trying to climb the soldier pines and the other trees. There is even a hidden cove where Lyra used to take guys for her own kind of fun." Lyanna said. Lyra joined them in time to hear her sister reveal her favorite refuge.
"Those days are long past and behind me, Lyanna. If I do take anyone there, it will be when Jon decides to swim with me." Lyra said, her face lighting up as she thought of Jon.
"Do you really love Jon or does he just serve to stoke your fires, Lyra?" Jorelle asked. She had no patience for her older sisters and their tendencies for falling in love with men. It seemed ridiculous to her that a Mormont woman could be snared so easily.
"When you reach my age, Jory, you will sing a different tune, especially when you fall in love for the first time." Lyra said.
Arya scoffed, causing Lyra to laugh. "That goes for you too, Arya."
"Jorelle and I will never be snared so easily." Arya declared defiantly, making Jorelle grin at the young wolf pup's spirit. "Absolutely, Arya. We'll let our older sisters grow fat and sprout out babies. You and I will live our lives riding out into adventure, fighting off Wildlings, killing Ironborn shits, hunting our supper in the Wolfswood and drowning our tongues in Northern ale."
"We'll get to drink ale?" Arya asked in surprise.
"If we can take a life, we can drink an ale." Jorelle replied.
Jorelle and Arya were so wrapped up in talking about the adventures they would have to look forward to that Alysane shocked them when she called them all to halt. "If you take a life, Jorelle Mormont, you better have a damn good reason for it other than quenching a thirst."
Alysane looked at Jorelle and Arya with a smirk at their contrite expressions. They were all too excited about leading lives of adventure in the wilderness and beyond the horizons. "Gods have mercy on the two of you. You are wild and unruly but even you two will grow up just like the rest of us."
"Alysane, I love you, Sarea and Beron with all my heart but I will never find myself in the family way and waddling like a goose while waiting for an infant to pop out from between my legs. It may have been what you wanted but that will never be for myself or Arya."
Arya stood right by Jorelle and held her hand as a show of solidarity.
Alysane smiled at them with a knowing smile. "When the two of you come of age, your bodies and minds will change. You'll look at boys very differently. Then we'll see what happens."
Jorelle scoffed at that until Sarea walked up to her and asked, "You don't want to be a mother one day, Aunt Jory?"
In spite of what she felt about it, Jorelle could not bring herself to infuse her defiance into Sarea, who was still impressionable. "Sarea, there's nothing wrong with it. It's just not what I want. I would not be able to go out and have adventures if I had to keep the house and attend to children."
"The woman who stands at Mormont Keep is able to hold an axe and feed her child. Grandmother had you, my mother, Aunt Dacey, Aunt Lyra and Aunt Lyanna. That did not stop her from being Lady of Bear Island."
Jorelle was taken aback at how Sarea cut right through her argument as if her tongue bore the same edge as Valyrian steel. "How did you get so smart?"
"She inherited her father's mind and has me to keep her on her studies, Jorelle." Alysane said with a mother's pride for her baby before leaning in and whispering into her sister's ear.
"He's been watching us since we entered the Wolfswood."
"I know. It was as though he knew which route we would take to get home. Do I dare to ask how long he was there?" Jorelle asked. The young boy in question was the only son of Lord Howland of House Reed. There was no animosity between those of Bear Island to those of the Neck but the crannogmen remained as unusual as they ever were.
"Long before we left Winterfell." Alysane replied with a smirk. "It is rather cute that you caught the eye of a young lad like him without even trying."
"I could roast a hog on a spit over a fire and kill Jojen long before the hog had a chance to cook in it's own juices." Jorelle said. In her youthful mind, she only saw how incapable Jojen was to not only take up arms but as well to defend himself.
Arya had no idea who they were talking about until Alysane explained it to her.
"The crannogmen of the Neck are unique in their ways, whether it is their defense of the North from Southron invaders, their lifestyle or in their courting of women. Most of all, Jojen Reed has never been the kind to take the direct approach."
Jorelle did not have any personal strife or ill will for Jojen Reed but he was strange on his best days. The idea that Jojen could see through her or into the unknown was not lost on her.
In her stubbornness, Jorelle Mormont could not see the possibility of her being swept up by Lord Howland Reed's only son.
Ser Brynden Tully stayed in Winterfell for seven days to help Catelyn deal with the separation anxiety and provide a stable source of solace. Apart from the pain of watching Arya and Bran leave Winterfell, Brynden saw how Catelyn's eyes were set ablaze whenever she saw Dacey Mormont with Robb and Jon. It was akin to being reminded of who was really influencing the children of House Stark and it was not a silver trout from the Riverlands.
Catelyn had long ago accepted the fact that the Tully name and ideals would not be passed on to her children. They were Starks and nothing could ever change that. What got under her skin was knowing that Arya and Bran were influenced more by the Mormonts than by her, their own mother.
In order to finally lay her burdens to rest, Brynden brought both his niece and the heir to Bear Island together for a long overdue discussion. Catelyn told Dacey everything she felt about Arya and Bran's antics and what she thought about the Mormonts. For the most part, Dacey showed restraint as she listened. "Lady Stark, you and I will always be opposites to each other. You came from the South, I am of the North. We keep to different faiths and the histories have not done anything to bring us together. There is one thing you and I have in common though. We both love Robb and want only the best for him."
It was the first time Dacey ever spoke of such matters and it was the first time Catelyn finally heard the confirmation of her suspicions. "He is still in many ways a boy whereas you are a woman full grown. Of all the Northmen between the Wall and the Neck, why did you cast your eyes upon my eldest son?"
"I have loved Robb ever since the day I held him in my arms. Only now, those feelings have changed into something else. I may be older than him but I believe I can steer him away from his worst impulses."
In thinking this over, Catelyn trusted Dacey. She did not have any ambitions of trying to move up in social circles and possessed a more sincere motive for her actions than most others she could think of.
Once he was certain that the she bear and his niece were not at each other's throats anymore, Ser Brynden Tully left Winterfell and began the long journey back to the Riverlands.
It was only when he got to Moat Cailin and spotted a contingent of soldiers loyal to House Manderly of White Harbor alongside numerous crannogmen loyal to House Reed of Greywater Watch that he realized that fate had set a new path before him.
When he got close enough, Ser Brynden was approached by the sons of Lord Wyman Manderly.
"Ser Brynden Tully. Thank the Gods for bringing you to us." Ser Wylis Manderly said. "We are in need of your aid."
"What is the matter?" Ser Brynden asked.
"I think you ought to come and see for yourself. We'll explain the rest." Ser Wendel Manderly answered.
The Blackfish was escorted by the Manderly brothers into the ruins of Moat Cailin. Seven captives were bound in chains and gagged with rags. The older man of the seven had several hounds chained up next to him with muzzles to keep them from biting anyone.
Ser Wendel pointed to each of them and spoke their names. "Grunt, Skinner, Sour Alyn, Luton, Damon Dance-For-Me and Yellow Dick. The old man there is Ben Bones."
"What does this have to do with me and why would I care about these dregs?"
"Absolutely nothing and no reason whatsoever. It's only that we know who they serve." Ser Wylis noted solemnly.
"They don't wear the sigil but I recognize Ben Bones. If they are with him, that means they have sworn their services to either the Leech Lord of the Dreadfort or his Bastard. I'm leaning to the latter more than the former. Whatever else he may be, Roose Bolton has never sought the title of kinslayer. His bastard though is a different story." Ser Wendel explained.
"The crannogmen spotted them camped out in Moat Cailin as if they were waiting for someone to cross the Neck. There was talk in White Harbor of Domeric Bolton's fostering ending this year. The crannogmen did a splendid job at taking the seven captive."
"Why do you think they were camped here?" Ser Brynden asked only to have another voice answer his question.
"There is no need to think about the answer. I know what it is." Lord Howland Reed said as he emerged from the shadows and approached the three knights. "Domeric Bolton is the only highborn son of Lord Roose Bolton. In the event of the Leech Lord's death, Domeric will inherit the Dreadfort along with the titles, holdings and lands that go with it. If he were to die, Roose Bolton would have no choice but to find a way to legitimize his bastard son so as to continue the Bolton line."
"Bolton's bastard is behind this?" Ser Brynden asked.
Lord Howland Reed nodded. "We already have a good idea of what to do with these seven. What we did not know though, until you showed up, was what to do with our guests. Now we do."
"What do you plan to do with the seven here?" Ser Wendel asked the Lord Paramount of the Neck.
Howland Reed simply pulled the gag out of Yellow Dick's mouth. "Like it or not, you are the spokesman for your friends and yourself. You trespassed on my territory by showing up unannounced. That is bad enough but then plotting against the son of Lord Bolton is even worse. So you can either return to the Dreadfort, where Roose may be waiting for you all with his thin blades at the ready or you can be properly introduced to the animal that serves as the sigil of my house. I'll leave the decision to you."
Yellow Dick only responded with spitting on Howland Reed's boot and saying, "Fuck the Neck and you, swamp-dweller."
With a tilt of his head, Howland Reed signaled the crannogmen into action. Within moments, Yellow Dick and his cohorts were put up on their feet and marched into the Neck.
The momentary screams were heard by Howland Reed's guests as the six servants of Ramsey Snow were fed to the lizard lions and other creatures of the Neck.
Not a fuck was given from either the Blackfish or the Manderly brothers.
Ben Bones was the only one still alive. The hounds, which he revealed were trained to kill wolves, were also cut down in front of him by the crannogmen. In comparison to what happened to the others, the hounds died a quick death before being fed to the creatures of the Neck.
Lord Howland Reed stood over him and loosened the shackles that bound his wrists and ankles.
"Either go to the Wall or board the first vessel bound for Essos. If my men see you move towards the Dreadfort, they will put a bolt through your head. Understood?"
Ben Bones nodded and scurried away. The soldiers of White Harbor watched as he ran towards White Harbor. The Lord of the Dreadfort could not flay him if he was on the other side of the Narrow Sea.
Ser Brynden was surprised at the authority exuded and demonstrated by Lord Howland Reed, who then nocked an arrow into his bow, ignited the head and loosed it up into the air as a signal.
"You asked me why we needed your aid, Ser Brynden. I will tell you when my guests arrive."
It was not long until they were joined by a group of four travelers.
A young man with a lame leg leaning on his cane, a fat boy who had just begun to grow facial hair, a tomboyish girl with short hair and deep blue eyes and a young man with shoulder length dark hair.
"Ser Brynden Tully, these are my guests. Willas Tyrell and Samwell Tarly of the Reach, Mya Stone of the Vale and Domeric Bolton of the North."
"This is why we need your help, Ser Brynden. They do not have anyone else to aid them. In many ways, they are on their own. While they are well learned, none of them possess your combat training. We need you to watch over them and train those you are able to."
"Lord Reed, with the greatest respect due to you, I am more than capable and willing to be taught." Mya Stone declared.
"You are in the North, Stone. Women here have been known to take up arms. With an ounce of my training, you'll fit right in." Brynden remarked before addressing the two Reachmen. "Why are you two here?"
"Disagreements with our fathers." Willas said as he shook hands with Ser Brynden. "I know of you, Ser Brynden Tully. I admire your audacity and bold approach. It is my hope to one day possess such qualities in myself."
"In spite of your leg, Tyrell, you and Tarly are still young. There's still time for the both of you to find your own path in life. The cost may be high though and you will have to live with your decisions the rest of your life just as I have."
"My father cast me out solely because the Tarly name meant more to him than a craven like me. I chose to journey with Lord Willas because he needed the aid and I was not eager to take the black like my father who wanted me to become a Crow so my brother Dickon could become his successor." Sam said in a melancholic tone.
Ser Brynden looked at Sam before saying, "Raise your eyes to me, boy."
Sam did as he was ordered. The Blackfish looked him in the eye and said, "Fear strikes every man. What sets them apart is not the violence he commits. It is how he is able to function in spite of his fear. Ser Barristan the Bold and I were young men once. There were many times where we came close to meeting the Stranger. If you choose to stand with Willas and your friends, make it your aim to overcome your fear. Understand, boy?"
"Yes, I do, Ser Tully."
"Good. Now if you got horses, mount them. We ride forth to White Harbor. By the time we get there, a kennelmaster will be aboard a ship bound for Essos or bound for the bottom of the Narrow Sea." Brynden quipped.
Days after Brynden Tully left Winterfell, Sansa Stark's future husband chose to pay a visit after a successful hunt.
Lord and Lady Stark stood ready to welcome him along with Robb and Sansa. Dacey, Jon and Theon stood nearby but at a distance. When the time came, Sansa's future husband rode through the East Gate with a contingent of 13 soldiers loyal to House Umber surrounding him.
For a time, Catelyn had thought to break off the betrothal but thought against it after finally making peace with Dacey Mormont. Now she was prepared to take the proverbial leap of faith in her daughter's betrothal to the heir of Last Hearth.
He was a tall, strapping young lad with a beard and height to match his father, the Greatjon, though his hair was kissed by fire like Catelyn and Sansa. At the age of 18, Jon Umber, better known amongst the Northmen as 'The Smalljon', was a man grown.
He rode upon a destrier with a greatsword across his back and a large, dead boar laid across the front of his saddle.
Dismounting his horse, the Smalljon grabbed the boar by its hind legs, raised it up and roared, "I brought supper!"
Lord Stark did something that was unnerving to Lady Stark. He smiled. His teeth were hidden but his lips curled up into a thin grin of sorts.
Smalljon Umber, to Catelyn's surprise, turned out to be more of a gentleman than what his appearance suggested. His build combined with his weapons and armor made him look like he was ready to ride off to war at a moment's notice.
He greeted Dacey Mormont with a big bear hug, lifting her off the ground easily. Dacey just smiled as she hugged Smalljon. It appeared as if the both of them were close friends. "Dacey Mormont, Gods be good, you look beautiful as you did the last time I saw ya!"
"It's good to see you again, Smalljon." Dacey said with a laugh as she wrapped her arms around Smalljon's thick neck.
When it came to meeting Robb, Smalljon stood stoic and stern as the heir to Winterfell offered a hand to him.
The Smalljon surprised Robb when he grabbed him in his arms and hugged him. "To think I'll soon call you brother!"
Robb could not help himself from laughing at the Smalljon's spirit. "Soon, Smalljon, but not yet. Until then, I could still call you my friend and my fellow countryman."
Putting Robb back on his feet, Smalljon Umber smiled. "Then I would be a fool to not accept."
When he stood before Sansa, the Smalljon's behavior changed instantly.
He bent the knee so she would not have to lean her head back to look him in the eye.
"My lady Sansa, I am Jon of House Umber. It is my greatest honor and privilege to meet you at long last." Smalljon said. "You are all I imagined you would be and more than I could dream of." Sansa smiled at his manners and his words. His beard and mustache tickled the back of her hand as he kissed it.
In the days to come, the Smalljon diplayed many things to Catelyn.
He embraced Jon Snow in the same way he did for Robb Stark. When it came to sparring, it took the two of them to match the Smalljon, who used a greatsword as if it were an ordinary longsword.
His friendship with Dacey Mormont proved interesting since they seemed to jape with each other like compatriots of the battlefield. It was he who provided the most challenges to her when it came to battle. But in the end, no matter how sore she felt, she and the Smalljon would be in arms, chugging down mugs of beer with smiles on their faces.
Most of all, he was genuinely interested in hearing Sansa tell him of the histories she studied in her lessons with Septa Mordane. Smalljon listened with rapt attention as she sang songs to him and showed him her embroideries. Her talents and mind were as interesting to him as was her character. He sensed a strength deep beneath her exterior that had yet to awaken and emerge though he kept those thoughts to himself. One time, when he went to the Wall with his father, Lord Commander Mormont told him that a fool opens his mouth and reveals his deepest thoughts but a wise man knows when to keep his mouth shut.
The moment that warmed Catelyn up to the idea of having the Smalljon as her son by law came when she was praying in the Small Sept.
She had finished her prayers and turned to leave when a shadow fell upon her.
The Smalljon had entered the Small Sept and looked around curiously as if he were a child seeing something for the first time.
"I have never been in one of these places before. Darrik, Alora, Avya and I would usually pray in the godswood." Smalljon looked at the depictions of the Seven. "Who are they, if I may ask, Lady Stark?"
Catelyn was taken aback by his curiosity and his desire to learn but gathered her thoughts quick enough to answer. She pointed to each of them, naming the Seven one by one.
"The Father, the Mother, the Warrior, the Smith, The Maiden, The Crone and the Stranger."
The Smalljon stroked his beard for a moment before saying, "I bet you were praying to the Crone. That old lady must have lived long enough to gain wisdom and patience."
Catelyn let out a soft laugh at how close the Smalljon was at his presumption. "From first glance, I thought that you were modeled after the Warrior himself." Catelyn spoke, causing the Smalljon to smile.
"My father would have laughed before arguing that the Warrior took his likeness and character after having supper at Last Hearth while shoulder to shoulder with the men of House Umber." Smalljon said, bringing an amused smile to Catelyn's face.
This was not lost on him by a league. "I count it a great victory if I can make the woman who might very well be my mother by law smile."
"How are you better spoken than I imagined?" Catelyn asked.
"Alora and Avya told me to stand upright, be well spoken and to not act like a drunken Wildling. They may be younger than I but, Gods be good, they are smarter than I am and just as tough as our lady mother, Gods bless her."
Catelyn looked up at the Smalljon of House Umber, threw caution to the wind and made a confession to him. "I only agreed to the betrothal between you and Sansa because of another betrothal which is long dead now."
Smalljon did not lash out or yell. He stood there silently for a moment.
"I do not hold anything against you, Lady Stark." Smalljon said before sitting on a nearby bench and looked the older woman face to face. "I will care for Sansa, cherish her and protect her with everything I have in me. She will never starve or shiver in the cold of winter. Can you believe that, Lady Stark?"
Catelyn looked at Smalljon and asked, "Would you convert to the Seven?"
The Smalljon did not need to think hard or long for his answer. "Absolutely not. Would you convert to the Old Gods?"
"Never." Catelyn answered with equal resolve.
"Then at least we know where we stand on that matter of faith. If you want to keep friends who are in the Light of the Seven, House Manderly would be a good choice." Smalljon said before rising back up to his feet. "With your permission, I shall leave you to your prayers and Gods, Lady Stark."
Upon the nod from Lady Stark, Smalljon Umber left the Small Sept.
Mormont Keep was built of wood and logs cut from the trees that grew on Bear Island. Not a stone or brick comprised the stronghold of House Mormont. Its style was ordinary yet functional.
Pasing through the log gates, on which the identifiable statue of the woman feeding her child while armed with a battle axe stood for all to see, Arya and Bran saw the various young women and men who were trained hard in archery, swordplay and hand to hand battle tactics. Several of them were about the same age as the two visiting Stark children. Others were either the same age as Robb and Jon or they were older than them.
The training came to a halt when Summer and Nymeria entered alongside Bran and Arya. None of them had ever seen a direwolf in their lives and they were immediately on alert until a voice called out, "Stand at attention!"
Alysane, Jorelle, Lyra and Lyanna recognized that voice right away. Sarea and Beron simply waved up and chorused, "Grandmother!"
Arya and Bran watched as a figure emerged from the depths of Mormont Keep, her boots striking the ground sharply with each step.
Black leathers and light chainmail were donned upon her body. Her once long brown hair had begun to turn grey and her face was wrinkled with years of combat and age but her eyes possessed the fiery spirit of the young woman who fought alongside the Blackfish in Robert's Rebellion.
The black bear fur cloak only added to her ferocity and made her look like a true she-bear.
Everyone stood straight at attention without uttering or whispering a word out of respect and reverence to the Lady of Bear Island as she looked over Arya and Bran.
"Dismount your horse and stand before me, Brandon Stark of Winterfell."
Bran did not delay in following Lady Maege Mormont's order. The moment his feet touched the ground, Bran stood straight up at attention. "Open your hands and raise them to me." Maege Mormont ordered.
Not knowing what was about to happen, Bran did as he was instructed. He was frightened when Maege Mormont caught them in her calloused, battle-hardened hands.
"I knew your uncle in life. The Wild Wolf. That's what they called him. He was not a few years older than you are now when I met him. Gods be good, I hope you have more restraint and sense than what was given to your uncle Brandon. If so, you may live to see a ripe old age, unlike him." Maege Mormont said, recalling the time that she first met the eldest son of Lord Rickard Stark. He was impetuous and proud. The Wolf's Blood flowed too deep and too rich in his veins.
Bran had heard the stories of his father's older brother. For a long time, he thought they were tall tales. Now he had the suspicion that they were cautionary tales. Maege snapped Bran out of his mind when she commented, "Your archery leaves much to be desired if I were to go only by the condition of your hands. Within the year, that won't be the case any longer. Jorelle and Lyanna will take you to your quarters. Your wolf will reside alongside you at all times."
"Thank you, Lady Mormont, for welcoming my sister and I into your home." Bran said respectfully to the Lady of Bear Island, who smirked at his manners. "There is no doubt of it. You are Ned Stark's son."
Jorelle took Bran by the hand and led him away as Lyanna and Summer followed them.
Arya was swept away at the level of respect and authority Lady Maege Mormont commanded from an entire army and how formidable she was. It was everything Arya wanted to be and more than she ever dreamed of.
Then she saw Maege Mormont look right at her. The look on her face was indecipherable; it was as though she was recalling a distant memory.
"Dismount your horse and stand before me, Arya Stark of Winterfell."
Arya did as instructed though she was not as swift as her brother. That did not go unnoticed by Maege Mormont, who approached in three swift steps, grabbed Arya by her jaw and stared into her eyes.
"You are rebellious and wild, girl. I see it in you and that bothers me. Your aunt was the same way. She shed her blood walking back to Mormont Keep after thinking she could take a horse from the stables and ride out into the woods at such a great distance. Will I have to do the same with you?"
"No, Lady Mormont." Arya answered in fear of the old woman's grip and the threat looming in the old woman's voice. It was as if a grown bear wrapped a paw around her face.
"Will you follow my orders to the letter without flashing me for a moment a defiant eye?"
"Yes, Lady Mormont. I will." Arya said.
"You and your brother asked for this. Remember that."
Looking towards Lyra and Alysane, Maege delegated to them their orders. "Alysane, see to your children. Lyra, take Arya to her quarters. See that she is prepared to work alongside her brother."
"Yes, mother." Alysane and Lyra said together.
Nymeria growled at Maege until the old woman looked at her. The direwolf instantly bowed its head contritely and whimpered as if in apology. "Go on with your mistress. You both would do well to stay out of trouble."
Lyra took Arya by the hand and led her away. Nymeria raised her head and nodded gruffly before padding away alongside Arya as they were escorted to their quarters.
Dacey was not allowed to run Robb and Jon to the brink of exhaustion and fatigue every moment of every day.
Like on Bear Island, there was one day set for leisure and rest.
On those days, Dacey Mormont would retreat into the godswood and say a prayer at the base of the heart tree before disrobing completely and soaking herself in the pond nearby that was fed by the hot springs.
The feel of the water against her bare skin was soothing and invigorating as well as deep enough for her to submerge herself.
Though Mormont Keep had gates to serve as defense, Bear Island was never as fortified as Winterfell and the threat of raids always kept her on alert.
For the first time in almost forever, Dacey Mormont was at peace.
A gasp caught her attention as Robb Stark inadvertently walked into the godswood and had his head turned. "Lady Dacey. I just came for prayer. I didn't expect to see you...uhm...in such a way."
Dacey smiled at his youthful innocence and chivalry. It made him look adorable to her but it also sparked a boldness in her.
"Robb, you are almost a man grown. You know that, don't you?" Dacey asked.
"Yes, I am." Robb said, managing to get those three words out of his mouth without stammering.
"I say that because there are certain lessons you must learn. There are things you must be shown. Things that Maester Luwin, Septa Mordane and Rodrik Cassel can not show you."
"What sort of lessons and things do you speak of, Lady Dacey?" Robb asked. His back was turned to her so Robb had no idea that Dacey Mormont had risen from the water and walked toward him in all her splendor until she turned him around.
Robb could feel his heart beating from within his throat as he took in the sight of Dacey Mormont's body.
Dacey took his hands in hers and placed his hands on her hips. "I will show you all kinds of things and teach you in many ways, Robb, if you are prepared and willing to learn from me."
With her body pressed against his, Dacey looked down at Robb and whispered, "Are you prepared and willing, Robb?"
"Yes." The word came out as a whisper but Dacey heard it well enough as she kissed him.
Having found enough nerve in him, Robb embraced Dacey and held her close as they kissed. Because she was a bit taller than he was, Dacey had to lean down and Robb had to lean up. As they kissed, Dacey guided his hands all over her body, silently teaching him how to hold a woman and touch her body properly.
"I love you, Robb Stark." Dacey whispered into his ear.
"I love you too, Dacey Mormont." Robb whispered back.
Dacey smiled as she felt Robb's arousal against her thighs. "All good things in time."
Laying another kiss on Robb's forehead, causing him to get a good look at her teats, Dacey stepped away from Robb and clothed herself. Robb picked up the bear cloak and put it on Dacey's shoulders. The heir to Bear Island wrapped her right hand around his and sighed.
"If I prove myself worthy in your eyes, would you marry me?" Robb asked.
"Perhaps. You and I will have to wait and see what kind of a man you become." Dacey said.
Grey Wind came out from the depths of the godswood and walked alongside his master and Dacey Mormont, panting happily as if he could feel Robb's excitement.
Walking out of the godswood hand in hand, Robb Stark and Dacey Mormont felt at peace with themselves and the world.
A messenger raven would soon shatter that sense of peace.
At supper, Lord Stark spoke to them about what would happen the next day. "Tomorrow, Robb and Dacey will join Harrion Karstark and the Smalljon along with twenty soldiers loyal to Winterfell as I go to meet with Lord Roose of House Bolton."
Catelyn felt her skin crawl upon hearing Ned say such a thing. "Why does the Lord of the Dreadfort wish to meet with you?"
"A personal grievance involving his own kin, the death of six men sworn to House Bolton and the disappearance or desertion of Ben Bones." Ned sounded like he was about to get into a rough confrontation with Roose Bolton.
Robb was young but even he had reservations against meeting with Roose Bolton. The man was a Northman but was seemingly the antithesis of a Northman in appearance. He was clean shaven while others had stubble or full facial hair.
Dacey Mormont knew enough about Roose Bolton and his lineage to thank the Old Gods that she was a Mormont of Bear Island so that she did not have to see or talk with any of the Boltons. She even kept her distance from the Ryswells and the Dustins for they kept family and blood ties with the house of the Flayed Man. Roose Bolton was more slippery than a wet eel caked in grease and possessed a forked tongue serpents envied. It was completely absurd to Dacey how such a man was counted among Lord Stark's loyal bannermen.
It was a relief to both Robb and Dacey that the Smalljon and Harrion Karstark would be there with them.
Ned looked to Sansa, who was more than concerned for his safety, and addressed her worry by trying to give a measure of good news. "Alora Umber and Alys Karstark will be visiting Winterfell to see you tomorrow, Sansa."
Sleep was fleeting for most of them save for Rickon. He slept peacefully with Shaggydog curled up around him in a protective manner on his bed.