A/N: Thanks for the support you continue to give this story. It means a lot to me.

Our Blades Are Sharp

By Spectre4hire

3: Robb

"There you are." Robb found the heir to the Dreadfort in the Stark library. The young man was sitting at one of the tables, candles burning bright amidst a pile of books and old tomes.

He looked up. A look of embarrassment covered his face. "I'm sorry." He moved to get up, but Robb stopped him.

"It's alright," Robb waved him off. "It's just that you left the feast abruptly." The feast had barely ended when Domeric had excused himself. Before he retired to his own chambers, Father had tasked him with making sure Domeric found his way back to his quarters that evening.

Robb had gone off to try to find their guest. He had tried to recruit Jon and Theon, but the former declined while the latter thought it was beneath him; leaving it for Robb alone. Thankfully, it didn't prove to be a challenging endeavor. He found Domeric in the library remembering him mentioning his penchant for reading.

Domeric stiffened. "I was tired of Greyjoy's japes."

"You heard them?" Robb inwardly cringed. He knew at once what the Bolton heir was referring to. Theon had made several jokes at the expense of the Bolton family and heir during the feast. Robb, who had not found them funny, had hoped all the same they had not traveled down the table to their guest. He had been proven wrong.

"You're friends with him." It wasn't a question.

"I am," Robb confirmed. This was not the first time his friendship with Theon had been questioned. Jon didn't get along with the Heir to the Iron Islands either.

Domeric took the news with an impassive look before turning back to the opened book on his table.

Robb took to the nearest seat at the table having him sit to Domeric's left. "What are you reading?"

"The Battle of the Weeping Water," Domeric must have noticed the look of confusion that came to Robb's face before clarifying, "It was during the time of the Andal's invading Westeros."

"Aye," Robb studied hard during his lessons with Maester Luwin and tried his best to remember all of the history and information that the Maester taught them. He enjoyed the history of his family, and prided himself on trying to know everything he could.

"With King Theon Stark," The details were slowly coming to him. The name wasn't lost on Robb and it didn't seem to be lost on Domeric either since they had just been talking about another Theon.

"He fought with the Boltons," Domeric finished, a hint of pride in his voice. "They crushed Argos Sevenstar and his Andal host."

Robb was nodding. He had always enjoyed the tale and it seemed he wasn't the only one. He particularly liked what happened next in the story. "King Theon raised his own fleet and crossed the Narrow Sea to deliver his retribution." Robb liked the idea of the fury of the Winter King leading him to the shores of Andalos to show what happened when you crossed the North.

"It was Boltons and Starks that defeated Argos," Domeric noted, "their forces alone were enough to soundly defeat his host."

"A testament of what our families can do when united," Robb pointed out.

"Aye," Domeric happily agreed.

In the silence that followed, Robb reflected on what was said. Was this why his father had agreed to foster Domeric at Winterfell? Despite the troubled history between the houses, he understood that the benefits of such a strong alliance could not be ignored. Their families had repelled an Andals invasion together. The Boltons commanded a strong and loyal host, one of the largest within the North. It made sense to want to bring them closer into the fold.

It was with those last thoughts of reflection did Robb's attention return to his current surroundings to see Domeric had gone back to his book, but he did notice a distant look in his eyes. It made Robb wonder if he was thinking along similar lines about an alliance between their families.

"You spent time in the Vale?" Robb asked the obvious. He needed a way to try to find more about Winterfell's newest guest. That, and he didn't like the silence.

"I did."

"What was the Vale Like?" Robb was genuinely curious. He had only left the Borders of the North to visit his mother's family in Riverrun and that was when he had been younger. The few times he left Winterfell had been to travel with his father to visit the other houses of the North to better learn about the families and places that would one day fall on him to rule.

He brightened at the question. A smile broke through his impassive expression while his eyes shimmered, looking lost in memories. "It's a beautiful land that in some ways reminds me of the North."

"The people are good hearted, proud of their history, bound by honor and duty, even if they worship the wrong gods," Domeric said the last part with a grin.

Robb laughed at that.

"The First Men still live in the Vale," Domeric observed, "However, they are not like us. They have lost their honor when they lost their lands and power. They dwell in the mountains bitter at what was taken from them when the Andals came. These mountain clans are primitive. They settle on raiding from nearby villages and have no qualms in bringing violence to the innocent in their futile attempts at vengeance."

"Did you come across them during your time in the Vale?" His description of these mountain clans reminded Robb a bit of the wildlings who slipped past the Wall. Most of them didn't try to settle or adjust to life in the North instead they pillaged and killed all they came across. Nor did they sound like the loyal but fierce mountain clans that resided North of Winterfell.

"I did," Domeric answered after a few seconds of hesitation. A pained look came across his face hinting at what sort of interaction he had had with them.

"You stayed with Lord Redfort?" Robb thought it better to change the subject.

"As strong as stone," Domeric recited the Redfort's family words with a smile. "He is a good man. I was honored to stay with him and his family. He treated me like one of his sons who I consider my brothers after my time with them."

Robb could detect the wistfulness in Domeric's tone. "Will you write to them?"

Domeric nodded, "I plan to."

"Hopefully, you will look back at your stay here at Winterfell with the same happiness as your time in the Vale," Robb found that he meant it.

Domeric smiled at that. "I do as well."

"The little leech lord isn't what I expected," Theon smirked, standing beside Robb as the two watched Domeric and Jon sparring with blunted swords under the watchful eye of Winterfell's master-at-arms, Ser Rodrik Cassel.

"Don't call him that," Robb warned his friend. He knew Domeric had already taken a dislike to Theon based on his earlier behavior at the welcoming feast a few days prior. It was one of his friend's worst traits: his need to make jokes at someone else's expense. A habit of his that had led to more than one argument between them as well as between Theon and Jon.

Theon ignored him. "How many leeches do you think he brought with him from the Dreadfort?"

Robb didn't get the chance to chastise his friend as the fighting drew his interest. His brother had just successfully disarmed Domeric.

"I yield," Domeric took the defeat in stride. "You're quite good."

"Thanks," Jon replied. "You fought well too."

Domeric seemed amused by that. "No need to lie." He picked up his sword. "I know where my talents lie."

"I meant no offense," Jon apologized, bowing his head.

Robb had noticed that his brother had been acting differently since Domeric's arrival to Winterfell. Jon had been keeping his distance. Something Robb didn't like at all. He considered his brother his closest friend as well as Theon and didn't like how he was rarely to be found now. Robb wondered if Jon was doing it in an attempt to not disrespect the Heir to the Dreadfort. Since many nobles did not take kindly to being in the presence of a bastard.

To Robb's surprise Domeric didn't seem to be one of them. He never seemed to be bothered by Jon's presence. In their limited interactions together, Domeric had always spoken to Jon kindly and always asked how he was. It had been Domeric who had asked to spar with Jon. It was an offer that wasn't rooted in malice which was sadly often the case when a noble wanted to fight someone of a lower status. No, his offer was made in an attempt to be friendly.

Hopefully, Jon would pick up on this and stop shying away from the heir to the Dreadfort or disappear whenever Robb was with him. If his brother didn't, then Robb was determined to seek him out and to break through his brother's stubbornness. To make it clear that Robb was expecting Jon to still be with him as often as he could.

"Relax, Jon," Domeric seemed to have sensed Jon's uneasiness. "No need to apologize," he assured him.

Jon nodded stiffly.

"That's enough for today," Rodrik called.

Domeric looked relieved that it was over. He handed his sword to him, and thanked Ser Rodrik for the time. Jon stayed behind to help Ser Rodrik put away the equipment and gear as part of his duties. Theon had slipped away, claiming with a smirk that he was going to the brothel to work up his appetite before dinner. That meant it was just Robb and Domeric heading back to the castle.

"Lord Bolton," Rodrik called for him.

"Yes, ser?" Domeric turned to the Master-at-arms.

"After your lessons with Maester Luwin you are expected to return to the yard to continue your training."

"I will, ser," Domeric acknowledged Rodrik's reminder with a nod.

Robb knew what that training entailed. During Domeric's stay here it was expected for him to continue his training in jousting. Training he had begun during his stay in the Vale. According to his father, Domeric had taken to the skill so well that it was one of Lord Bolton's only conditions of letting his son come to Winterfell was that he needed to continue to practice.

Robb waited for Domeric before the two made their way inside the castle for their lessons with Maester Luwin.

"I envy you," Domeric admitted suddenly. "Your siblings and the family you have here."

"I am blessed," Robb agreed. Smiling at how his Father referred to them as his pack of wolves and instilling in them the importance to stand by one another: To be loyal to one another even when it's easier to be mean. A lesson that was not always heeded, Robb knew all he had to do was look at his sisters, Sansa and Arya, and the growing arguments that they found themselves getting into.

"Thank you," Robb said, "You don't have to be kind to my brother, but you are."

"You know I have a bastard brother."

That came as a surprise to Robb. "Really?"

"Yes," Domeric confirmed. "I heard rumors before I left for the Vale about him when I asked my father he-" he ducked his head, shielding his expression from Robb. "He confirmed it, but forbade me to seek him out."

There seemed to be more to the story, but Robb didn't want to press. He wasn't surprised by Lord Bolton forbidding Domeric to see his bastard brother. Robb understood the stigma that bastards received. And knew the situation with Jon living with them as their brother was the exception and not the standard practice of most noble bastards excluding Dorne.

"Do you know where he is?" Robb could tell Domeric wanted to form some sort of relationship with his bastard brother. Even in the short amount of time together, Robb understood how Domeric viewed family and how he longed for siblings like with what he witnessed in the Vale with Lord Redfort's sons and now at Winterfell with Robb and his siblings.

"No." Domeric answered, "Father refused to tell me. He knew if I knew I'd try to seek him out."

Robb detected the bitterness in Domeric's voice. "Perhaps, he does so for a reason."

"Perhaps," but Domeric didn't sound convinced.

Robb couldn't blame him. He too had his doubts about Lord Bolton's intentions.

However, Robb knew enough about Lord Bolton from his father and mother to know that the man never made a decision lightly or without reason. He was shielding Domeric from his bastard brother for a reason. Whether, it was something selfish such as to keep the Bolton name unblemished without the presence of this bastard or to keep his son safe from another trying to lay claim to the Dreadfort.

Robb didn't know.

"I don't even know his name," Domeric's words broke Robb from his musings, "But one day I will know it and him."