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Our Blades Are Sharp
By Spectre4hire
13: Robb
"You wanted to see me, Father?" Robb walked into his father's study to find him standing in front of the window looking out at the grounds of Winterfell.
"I did," He turned to face him. His face stony, but there were hints beneath his grey eyes that Robb detected that signaled his father had gotten little sleep these past few days since Bran had been found outside the broken tower.
Robb quelled the anguish that tightly clasped itself around his heart. To see his young brother lying there on his bed, motionless, it unnerved him. This wasn't his energetic brother who liked to climb and fight and explore. The news that the Maester delivered on Bran's body had only deepened the pain and pity that Robb felt for his younger brother.
"As you know tomorrow I ride off with the King to serve as his Hand."
He said nothing. He had been somewhat hopeful that his father would resign as Hand at once upon Bran's fall, but he didn't.
"There must always be a Stark at Winterfell," his father recited, "When I went off to war at Robert's side during the Rebellion that Stark was Benjen .This time as I ride south you will be that Stark."
"I understand, father," Robb quickly replied. "I will not disappoint you."
"You can never be a disappointment, Robb," he assured him. "As long as you keep your honor, do your duty, and protect our family."
"I will," Robb swore.
"Good," he walked around his desk over towards him. His eyes never left his. "What will be some of your priorities once I leave?"
Robb was caught off guard by the abrupt question. It must have shown on his face.
"Think," his father encouraged him.
He did. Robb then remembered who his father would be taking to the capital. "Winterfell will need a new steward." He knew he was right when he saw his father's nod. "We will also need to appoint a new captain of the guards and a new horse master."
"Very good," his father praised, coming to stand in front of him. "Do not forget to speak to Maester Luwin. His council has helped me more times than I can count."
"I won't, father."
"I know," he put his hand on Robb's shoulder. "Your mother too will have good council too when..." His voice trailed off and his eyes became distant.
And Robb knew he was thinking of Bran, of how mother hadn't left Bran's side since they brought him to his room. She hadn't slept and barely eaten it seemed, and Robb would be lying to himself if he didn't say he wasn't worried for his mother's well being. And looking into his father's eyes, he was sure he was just as worried for her.
"I will look after her, father." Robb assured him.
He squeezed his shoulder. "You've grown, Robb." He then pulled him into a fatherly embrace that Robb returned. "I'm proud of the man you've become."
"Thank you," being in his father's arms it all hit him with a bludgeoning force. His father was riding to the south with Sansa, and Domeric. Jon was going north to take the Black. Even Arya was leaving, going to Bear Island to foster with the Mormonts. Everything was changing and it scared Robb upon realizing how different everything was about to be.
When they pulled away, Robb could see sadness creeping into his father's expression as his eyes roamed across his study. He seemed to be reflecting about his pending departure for the capital and the home and family he was leaving behind.
"Father," Robb broke him from his peaceful reflections. He didn't want to, but he needed to bring it up before he left.
"Yes?" His grey eyes turned to look down at him.
"You have to talk to Jon," Robb blurted out a lot less eloquently then he had planned.
His father's expression became guarded. "He has decided to take the Black."
"But he can't!" Robb protested, before he could collect his thoughts and present them in a far more mature manner. That was what he had practiced when he imagined this conversation, but he couldn't keep his emotions in check as he thought about his brother going to the Wall.
"Many Starks have taken the Black, Robb," his father told him sternly. "It is a noble calling to protect the realms from what lies beyond the Wall."
"I know," Robb relented, knowing Uncle Benjen had taken the Black, but Robb couldn't let it go. He couldn't let his brother go. He didn't want that life for his brother. It didn't feel right. It didn't seem fair. His brother shouldn't have to leave Winterfell. It was his home too. "But Domeric made him an offer."
"I'm aware of Domeric's offer to Jon."
That had surprised Robb. "You are?"
"Yes," he nodded, "Domeric broached the subject with me and told me why he thought Jon was qualified for the position." His father scratched his chin, "I gave him my blessing to ask Jon, but Jon refused. He will take the Black."
"Jon is just being stubborn," Robb complained. "He should take Domeric's offer. And if he doesn't like it then he can take the Black. I-I just don't want Jon to leave. Not now," he felt wetness in his eyes, "not with Bran and everything else. I need him with me. He's my brother and…"
He felt his father's hand once more on his shoulder. "It is never easy to say goodbye, son." He squeezed it, "but sometimes the only way we can grow is by taking your own path." He brought his hand to rest on top of Robb's head. "That's what Jon's doing. That's what Domeric and Sansa are doing and Arya and that's what you'll be doing too."
"I understand," Robb took a shaky breath to compose himself. Learning just how difficult this lesson was going to be.
"You are a good brother to Jon," his father assured him. "Do not feel guilty for Jon's choices. Jon knows that he will always be welcomed here. He knows we will always consider him family."
Robb couldn't quite meet his father's eyes. His observations had struck true to some of Robb's hesitance at Jon leaving. In some part he felt guilty that Jon thought he had to leave. It bothered him to think that he was somehow responsible in driving Jon away from home.
"Thank you," Robb found some relief in his father's words. He still wasn't happy with his brother's decision, but he knew that he needed to support Jon in this. He was his brother. He would just do it in a way that made it clear that Jon could always come back before he took his vows.
Satisfied, his father removed his hand from Robb's shoulder, "One more thing," he told him, "Do not forget to write to the Princess."
Robb groaned at that.
In his panic at everything that was changing for him and at Winterfell, he had actually overlooked the betrothal to the princess. He had been so focused on trying to deter Jon, Bran's fall, and the pending departures of his father, Sansa, and Domeric that his betrothal to the young princess had escaped him. At its reminder it now reemerged, hovering over him like a storm cloud. Bringing with it new fears and concerns that Robb was too tired and to emotionally drained to deal with presently.
His father chuckled. "Now Robb, do not overlook the importance of getting to know your future wife." He told him, "These letters can be the foundation of a friendship that you will both cherish and depend on when it comes time for you two to be wed."
"I'll write to her, Father."
"That's my son," He smiled down at him, a hint of pride in his tone and expression.
"I hope you enjoyed your time here, my lady."
Robb was escorting the Princess, Myrcella Baratheon, his betrothed, to the wheelhouse she shared with her mother and siblings.
"I did, Robb," she smiled shyly up at him.
His was more hesitant since he was aware of the scowling Ser Jaime Lannister who walked behind them. As a member of the prestigious Kingsguard, a famed swordsman, and Myrcella's uncle, Robb understood the scrutiny he was currently under.
Robb's time with the princess had been short and awkward. She was a year younger then Sansa, but even still she was quite cute. She took after the Queen in appearance, blond curls that fell over her shoulders, green eyes, but unlike the Queen, the princess smiled easily and giggled almost endlessly.
In the beginning of their time together it had proven difficult for Robb to get to know the young lady who would one day be his wife. She was shy, but Robb was slowly able to coax her out of her shell and to his surprise discovered a polite, smart, and witty girl. She told countless good stories and funny jokes. Though she openly admitted most of both were borrowed from her beloved uncle, Tyrion.
Upon getting to know her, Robb found his nervousness dwindle at the thought of one day marrying her. An option that when first announced had made him more resigned then anything. They still had a ways to go before truer feelings could emerge, but with her departure Robb felt more confident that this betrothal could end up being a good and happy thing for both of them.
"I pray for safe travels on your trip," He inwardly cringed at his words, realizing how stupid they sounded. He was certain he heard a snort from her uncle, Ser Jaime.
"Thank you," she replied courteous despite her uncle's response.
They were nearing her wheelhouse. She turned back to Winterfell with the castle looming over them. "I must say I enjoyed the castle and the company more than I thought I would."
"You are too kind, my lady," Robb tipped his head to her.
"I look forward to the day when I return so that I can better understand the North and its people."
"The North will be blessed by your presence," Robb complimented, unsure if it sounded as good out loud as it did in his head.
Thankfully, it seemed it was the latter because he was rewarded with another one of her shy smiles. That soon disappeared as she chewed on her lower lip, "I will pray to the Mother every day for Bran."
Robb had been taken aback by both her words and the sincerity in which she spoke with. He could see the genuineness shimmer in her emerald eyes. "Thank you," He found his throat suddenly dry.
She nodded, realizing his discomfort.
"Allow me," Robb spoke up when they arrived at the wheelhouse. He had beaten her uncle to the door, opening it for the princess. "You will have letters from me waiting for you when you reach the capital."
"Then I pray that we travel with haste," she replied politely.
Robb took her hand and placed a gentle kiss upon the back of it. He didn't dare due anything else in front of her uncle, Ser Jaime. Robb then held her hand and helped her climb into the wheelhouse where he was greeted by a grin from her younger brother Tommen, and an icy stare from her mother.
He offered the Queen a slight bow and a smile before returning his attention to Myrcella where they exchanged goodbyes once again before Ser Jaime stepped in to excuse them since he needed a word with his sister, the Queen.
It wasn't until he was alone and away from the wheelhouse did Robb notice all the people and all the noise that filled the yard. It was enough to drown yourself in. Men were shouting, servants were moving, things were being loaded, but most of them were strangers to Robb. His eyes were moving through the crowd of unfamiliar faces. Thankfully, they parted when he passed.
He quickly spotted the banners of House Bolton flapping in the breeze. The men of the Dreadfort had put some distance between them from the royal party and the Lannisters. They were dressed in simple mail unlike the more elaborate and colorful armor that the knights and soldiers from the south were wearing.
This was where Robb went. Moving closer, he spotted his sister off to the side tending to Shadow while Lady remained close. Shadow seemed to be the only horse who was not spooked by the direwolf's presence. That didn't come as a surprise to Robb since he knew the destrier was all but bonded to Domeric. So the horse felt no fear in the direwolf's presence because it sensed a close kinship with Lady.
"I thought you'd be with the princess all morning," Sansa feigned a lofty sigh, "And forget all about your sweet sister."
Robb sent an annoyed look at his sister who only giggled. "The thought has become more tempting now."
"I think it's sweet," Sansa proclaimed, "You two could be very happy together."
For all the changing and maturing Robb had seen of his sister these past few months. He was still pleased to note her strongest trait was still her compassion and her hope in seeing others happy.
"You know I could never forget about you, sister," Robb declared.
"How could anyone?" Domeric joined them. He put his arm around Sansa, who rewarded his compliment with a kiss to his cheek.
Robb smiled at the obvious happiness the two had and the affection they shared for one another. Not for the first time since his betrothal with the Princess was announced did he wonder and hope to find what they shared with Myrcella. Even if he could feel or find only a fraction of what his sister felt for Domeric, he'd be satisfied because he knew it could be enough.
They both meant so much to him. It hurt him to see them preparing for their journey to the capital. He remembered his father's wise words and the paths we must take. Though, for Robb his didn't seem more of a path then staying in place while he watched those he cared about continue on without him.
"You two did look happy this morning." Domeric observed softly.
Robb turned to his friend to see no hint of teasing in his expression. He knew his friend and sister were only looking out for him. They had come to him after the betrothal was announced to offer their support and to congratulate him with the underlying message that they were there if he needed to vent his feelings on what had happened.
Happy? He had been more nervous and perhaps a bit relieved when he parted with her at the wheelhouse. Robb was certain she had similar feelings. It might come later, but it wasn't there yet. Robb had only just met her and already she was leaving to return to her home in the capital. When they'd be reunited he didn't know only that they'd be strangers once more sharing a burden of a future together.
"She is pleasant company," Robb offered, knowing he had been quiet during his reflections. That seemed to satisfy them. He saw a pleased smile on his sister's face while Domeric was more reserved in his expression, but his brown eyes showed his approval.
However, at the moment, he didn't want to dwell on the princess. Her leaving Winterfell meant very little to nothing to Robb, they weren't friends, but strangers. He wanted to spend what time he had with his family and friends without distractions.
"Have you said your goodbyes to Jon?" Robb had yet to say his. He knew his brother was in the castle right now giving his to Arya and Bran. He knew Jon would seek him out afterwards. Robb was anxious for it. He had been dreading it as much as the one's he was about to give to Sansa and Domeric.
He had already seen his Uncle Benjen looking ready to head towards the Wall. Seeing his uncle so restless had made Robb want to go over to him and perhaps gauge his uncle's thoughts on not allowing Jon to take the Black. He stayed himself for the moment, but the longer he waited the less resistance he felt to seeking his uncle out and hopefully trying to persuade him to help Jon return before giving his oath to the Watch.
Robb didn't fault Jon for wanting to join. It was a noble goal, but Robb thought his brother too young to make such a life altering choice. Why couldn't Jon go in a few years? Let him see what the world is like and what he would be missing before deciding if the Watch and the Wall was where he wanted to be.
"We have," Sansa's affirmation broke through Robb's musings. Though distracted he did notice the look that passed between his sister and Domeric at the mention of Jon. They too hadn't accepted Jon's decision to go the Wall.
Looking at his younger sister, he was taken aback at the mature young woman who was meeting his stare. He could remember the countless times when he was sick or tired or hurt and she'd come to his room, sit beside him and care for him, sing to him. She was his younger sister, but she took care of him. She always tried to make him feel better.
Robb would miss her terribly. He moved towards her without words and held her tightly. He could feel her soft sniffing against his doublet. He could feel tears prickling the corners of his eyes. He blinked them away.
When their embrace ended, he looked to see his sister's eyes, the blue Tully eyes that they inherited from their mother were wet with tears.
"Promise me you'll write?"
"I promise," he assured her. His words placated her as she gave him a shaky nod. She moved to hug him again, this one was briefer but it was just as emotional.
Robb then moved his attention to Domeric, the Heir to the Dreadfort who had come to Winterfell two years ago as a stranger was now leaving a brother to Robb. The two then embraced as brothers, slapping each other's back before pulling away.
"You look after her," Robb said thickly.
"Aye," Domeric agreed turning to Sansa, whose eyes still shimmered with wetness, "But I'll likely need it more."
She gave her betrothed a watery smile. She turned back to Robb. "Bran and Rickon will need you, Robb."
"I know," Robb nodded, "Bran will survive this and when he does, I'll be there for him."
"Good," Sansa sounded relieved. She always looked out for them. It was in her nature.
"We should finish preparing," Domeric said awkwardly after a few heartbeats of peaceful silence had fallen over the three of them. His expression clearly conveying that he wished it wasn't the case.
Robb knew he spoke truly. He moved to shake his friend's hand before hugging his sister once more before Domeric and Sansa went back towards the Bolton party. He watched them go and was rewarded when they turned back and gave him a wave which he returned. He then moved to turn his back on them to discover that the chaos and noise had only intensified. Looking around, he knew what he needed to do.
This was his time.
He took a deep breath and began shouting orders, his voice carrying over the others. He tried to do it the same way he saw his father do it countless times before him. Surprised, and pleased when he noticed his words were taking hold with the servants and the guards as they went about following his commands.
It wasn't going to be easy, Robb knew, but he was ready to move forward.