While it was a great honor to play host to the King, the actual responsibility was overbearing. Robb could see the strain of it on Lord Medger Cerwyn's face as he gave instructions to his household. The Lord of House of Cerwyn was a quiet, but well-respected Northerner, whom Robb's father counted as one of his strongest bannerman. When Lord Cerwyn noticed Robb amongst the King's party, he instantly stopped what he was doing and made his way over.
"Robb Stark, I hadn't thought to see you in my keep this night," Lord Cerwyn stated, straightening his shirt. "We were deeply sorry to hear about the business with your brother. Has there been any change in his condition?"
"Not as of yet my Lord," Robb answered. "Hopefully soon."
"I mean to ride to Winterfell soon and offer your Father my sympathies as well," Lord Cerwyn promised.
"My Father would greatly enjoy your visit, as always," Robb responded.
"Yes, I believe we would have much to discuss. If what the King described is true, the wildlings are becoming bolder. We will need to make sure our borders are more heavily watched."
"There would be less such problems if the Wall was properly manned," Jon said from beside him. Robb had to fight the urge to roll his eyes, but he knew that his brother was probably right.
"Well, everything will have to be considered," Lord Cerwyn nodded. "So, what are you boys doing in the King's host?"
"The King was gracious enough to invite us to stay with his family in King's Landing," Robb stated evenly.
"Mmmhmm," Lord Cerwyn hummed. "You sure it isn't to try and lure your Father south?" At Robb's surprised look, Lord Cerwyn grinned. "I may be getting up in my years, Robb, but I can still piece things together. It was easy to see with the news of the King's arrival following so soon after the death of Jon Arryn."
"Something like that," Robb advised.
"Well I wish you great fortune in the Capital boys. I best go see that everything is settled for the night. I'll see to it that you have beds for the evening." Robb inclined his head in thanks. It did pay to be the heir to the Warden of the North at time.
Lord Cerwyn made good on his words, and Robb found himself situated in a modest room with a bed each for he and Jon. It was a Robb reached two remove his belt and sword that visions of earlier in the evening invaded his senses. He knew that if he pulled his sword from the sheath the blood of two dead men would be encrusted on it. Two dead men...dead at his hand.
"What is it?" Jon asked from his side, looking as if the night had finally caught up with him.
"I killed two wildings tonight," Robb answered, still holding the sword loosely in his palms.
Jon did not say anything at first, letting Robb's words linger. "Why did you kill them?" he asked eventually.
"They would have killed me. They would have killed the King."
"Did you enjoy it?"
Robb had to think on that question for a moment. He released on his hands from his sword and ran it through his dark-auburn hair. "I didn't enjoy the fact that I killed two men. I did feel a sense of satisfaction that I proved myself though."
"There's nothing dishonorable about that. You did your duty and protected your King."
"You're right," Robb agreed putting the sword down finally, and taking a seat on his bed. "I suppose I should get used to it. The King gets older and rounder by the day. Who knows how much longer he'll be on the throne? By his choice or another's. We've gone a long time without a war. I fear that will end soon."
"What I fear is leaving Winterfell. Seeing a pack of wildlings make it this far south without being noticed is unheard of. If they keep getting thirty or more across at a time, those numbers add up quickly. They'll terrorize the people."
"Father will handle it," Robb assured, with absolute faith in the man. "His bannermen will stand with him. "
"I hope so."
In what seemed liked no time at all they had passed the Twins and entered parts of the Kingdom that were entirely foreign to Robb. He felt like a wide-eyed child taking in his surroundings. While it was exciting to stay in the castles of various Lords whom Robb had never encountered prior, he found he enjoyed seeing the country even more. They passed through farmland and by large mills, through large trading posts and small holdfasts that were scarcely occupied. Everywhere they passed, the people came to admire the King's procession and the knights in all their glory. Even Robb found himself sitting higher on his mount as children stood as small children stood at their parent's sides and waved.
Robb's relaxed mood took a turn when he saw the first hint of the mountains of the Vale of Arryn rising imposingly towards the sky. His thoughts turned back to his Aunt and the accusation that hung over her husband's death. It made all the more real when he looked forward and saw the back of Jaime Lannister's head as he rode next to his brother, the imp. He questioned to himself whether it had been one of them to do the deed, or perhaps even the queen. From what he had seen so far of her, she certainly seemed capable of it.
They were only a day or so out from King's Landing when the King called for a halt to rest and water the horses. Robb was sure some part of him was trying to delay the inevitable return to the confinement of the Red Keep. They stopped at the God's Eye, within sight of the haunting ruins that were Harrenhall. Robb sat at the base of a tree that grew close to the edge of the God Eye's. Grey Wind lay at his feet, his eyes following the movement of Robb's hand as it drew a whetstone up and down the edges of his sword. Jon and Jory had taken the horses to a better place to drink further around the bank.
The sound of the stone moving along the sword and the steadiness of Grey Wind's breathing next to him had almost moved Robb to sleep. This was the farthest journey that he had ever made, and the march south had started to take its toll on him. However, just as his head leaned back against the tree and he began to close his eyes, a shout of warning and hooves beating a rapid pace drew his attention. Coming from the south were three riders in a tight pack. Robb stood and made his way over to where the King stood, watching as the riders approached.
"It seems my Brother and the Lord Commander have come to welcome us," Robert muttered to himself, waving off the guard that had gathered around him at the first glimpse of riders. Robb watched as the youthful form of Renly Baratheon and the older, but still imposing form of Ser Barristen Selmy brought their horses to a halt in front of the King. Robb knew little of Renly, other than that the King had granted him lordship over Storm's End, passing over their other brother Stannis, who held Dragonstone. From what Robb could tell, he seemed to be a clone of Robert, just a much younger, much healthier Robert. Renly jumped down from his horse with a flourish and approached his brother. He wore what was clearly an expensive tunic, deep green in color with the stag of House Baratheon on the breast.
"I'm not so drunk that I could not find my to the Red Keep from here, Renly," Robert called, arms crossed against his barrel of a chest.
"I was feeling very confined in the Capital," Renly stated. "When word came that you were close, I decided to go for a ride."
"Well you found us."
Renly stepped closer to Robert and placed an arm around his brother's shoulder. "There's another reason I thought it prudent to come and meet you," Renly began in a softer tone, thought not soft enough that Robb was unable to hear. "Tywin Lannister is in the Capital, and he's made himself extremely comfortable. Pycelle, Varys and Baelish have all been simpering at his heels like puppies since he arrived. It's sickening. What happened to Ned Stark keeping him out of our hair?"
"He's a damn hard-headed northerner, that's what happened. Though I did manage to pry away his boy," Robert finished, gesturing toward him.
"Robb Stark," Robb added, bowing his head in greeting.
"Ah, the Heir to Winterfell. A pleasure to meet you Lord Stark."
"You as well, my Lord."
"Come, let us get a drink and you can tell me what my scheming father-in-law has been up to since he invaded my castle." He and Renly started to walk back towards the table and chairs where Robert had previously been seated. Robb was about to go and find Jon and Jory when the King's voice stopped him. "You come as well Stark." Not wanting to disappoint, Robb quickly turned and followed the siblings.
"So," the King grunted as he took a seat. "What is the great Tywin Lannister up to?"
"Mostly making himself at home," Renly responded, grabbing a cup of wine from the nearby table. "He's already installed himself in the Tower of the Hand, and he's called several small council meetings. Honestly, you haven't even formally appointed him to the position, but from the way he struts he believes himself to be king."
"I'll have to make sure to give him a reminder of it is whom he serves."
"Yes, well he also brought along three hundred of his own men with him. As if there were not enough Lannisters already in King's Landing."
"One Lannister anywhere is too many Lannisters."
Renly snorted. "You forget brother, you're married to one and have three Lannister children."
"Oh I haven't forgotten, no matter how much I'd like it. Cersei's done a fine job turning the children against me as well. The Gods, if only Lyanna had lived," Robert sighed longingly. "The world is not fair."
"Speaking of not fair, I was sorry to hear of your brother's fall, Stark. I pray to the Gods that he makes a swift recovery," Renly responded.
"As do I, my Lord."
"So, Robert, now that your are back, what plans do you have? Lord Tywin is dead set against any sort of celebration for his elevation in position."
"Well he'll just have to deal with it. I want to hold a tournament, and that's what I mean to do. The Hand serves at the pleasure of the King. Holding a tourney is what would please me, among other things, so that's what we'll fucking do. On top of that, he can pay for the damn thing."
"I may think him a complete, humorless, bore, but as soon as Ned Stark refused you, you should have written to Stannis and asked him to be Hand," Renly chastised his brother. "I have a feeling filling King's Landing with Lannisters is inviting trouble."
"Has there been any word from that frustrating man we call, brother?" Robert asked, sternly. "Jon Arryn dies, and suddenly my Master of Ships is sailing back to Dragonstone for who knows what reason. I'll never understand him. When he's needed most he leaves."
Robb listened as the brothers went on about the many faults of Stannis Baratheon, but Robb's mind was trying to reason for itself why someone like Stannis Baratheon would abruptly leave the Capital. His Father respected Stannis, even if his personality left something to be desired. Stannis was an experienced fighter, and would not retreat to his home on Dragonstone without a reason. It was too much of a coincidence that he chose to leave so soon after the Hand's death. Lysa Arryn's accusations echoed once again through his head. Was it possible that Stannis knew the truth as well? But why would he leave his brother, his King, alone, practically dangling in the jaws of enemies?
Renly, who had seemingly shifted the conversation to a new topic, brought Robb out his ponderings. "So Stark, since Robert usually gets his way, do you mean to compete in the tourney?"
"Aye, I do," Robb answered.
"Splendid. It's about time we had some new blood at these things. Thoros waving his flaming sword around lost its allure years ago."
"Do you compete, Lord Renly?" Robb asked.
"I do. I've never done particularly well, but then again it's hard to live up to expectations when your eldest Brother is King, and successfully drove the Targaryens out of Westeros. I tend to enjoy the festivities and feasts more than the fighting actually. King's Landing is just dreary most days."
"Stop putting the boy off, Renly. He hasn't even stepped foot in the place yet, let him make up his own damn mind about how horrible it is," Robert exclaimed.
"I'd say it would be better to lower expectations. That way there's no sense of disappointment the first time he takes a walk through Flea Bottom."
"I'll not have the boy walking through Flea Bottom," the King stated. "I promised Ned I'd look after him, not have him traipsing through the filth of the Capital. Anyway, the boy's already proved to be useful. Since Stannis is gone and Jon is dead, I'll need another set of loyal ears on the Small Council. I mean for young Robb here to attend the meetings as my representative, when I'm otherwise occupied."
"Which is quite frequently," Renly quipped, his words directed into his wine cup.
Robb simply sat in surprise. Being allowed to sit in the King's Small Council meetings was a great privilege, even if it was because the King found them boring. He also knew it would be a invaluable experience, considering one day it would be his responsibility to deal with the politics of managing the North. In reality, it also meant he was being placed even more deeply into center of whatever plots were stirring in the Capital.
"You should send a raven to father when we reach King's Landing," Jon advised from where he rode at Robb's side. "He'll want to know that you'll be so close with the King and his advisors."
"I agree with Jon, my Lord," Jory added. "You should send back as much information to him as you can without drawing suspicion. If it ever came to it, it would take Lord Eddard time to call on his bannermen. The North is not a small place."
"I'll keep him informed, but I also won't worry him needlessly," Robb warned. "Word reaches the Capital that Father is gathering men, and we may force someone's hand. We need to be smart about this."
"Agreed, my Lord," Jory conceded. "It may also be safer if you allow me to send your messages. I'll likely be less noticeable. Could be that I'm simply sending messages home to my family, no one would be the wiser."
They rode on until finally Robb got his first glimpse of his new home for the foreseeable future. The walls of King's Landing were tall and solid, lined with towers. From a distance, the place was impressive, but as the King's party got closer, the reality of what the Capital was became clearer. Men, women, and children, all dressed in rags and bone thin, were living in squalor directly outside the walls and gates of the city. The putrid smell of death and human waste immediately invaded Robb's nostrils, causing him to fight the urge to be sick. He did not know if it was because he had been sheltered living in the North, or whether his Father was that much more competent of ruler, but he had never seen anything like what was in front of him.
"If this is what it looks like on the outside, I don't know if I desire to go inside," Jon said from beside him, his forearm raised against his nose, trying to block the stench.
Instead of going into the first gate they came to, the procession swung around, parallel with the city walls and continued to circle around, heading south. Eventually they were forced to stop as they reached the harbor that served as the southern border of the city. There, waiting to escort them was a contingent of the gold-clad city watch. They were led through what Robb later learned was the King's Gate and into the city proper. When they were through, Robb did not know where to look first. The city was full of so many moving parts, and so many people. The city watch lined the street, providing a clear path for the King and his party. He did not know what sort of reaction he had expected from the inhabitants of the city, but many were clearly indifferent to their King's return. They seemed to be more worried about the large wolves that paced behind Robb and Jon.
Continuing on along the southern wall, they passed through an impressive fish market. The smell of the filth was quickly mixed with that of rotting sea creatures of all kinds. Sea captains and sailors lined the street, selling their goods. Many of them were clearly not from Westeros. Robb had been so busy taking in the sights, that he was surprised to find himself in front of the Red Keep, the seat of the King. A gathering waited inside the walls of the Red Keep, and at the head of it stood a tall, imposing figure. He had clearly thinned blond hair on the top of his head and a neatly trimmed beard. He wore a tunic of red and gold, with the lion of House Lannister clearly stitched. Tywin Lannister looked every bit the part his reputation made him out to be.
Robb watched as the new Hand of the King greeted his daughter, sons, and grandchildren. He had expected the King to approach as well, but Robert Baratheon acted as if the man was not present at all, and made for his chambers. Robb slipped from his horse, and ran an appreciative hand over the beast's mane.
"My Lord," Jory called, from behind him. Robb turned and saw the head of the Stark guard standing beside a steward. "Your rooms will be in the Maidenvault. I've already seen that your things are sent there. This man will lead us down."
"Thank you, Jory," Robb responded. The steward turned to lead them, but a voice stopped Robb before he could follow. He looked back and saw two men approaching. The man on the left was thin, with black hair that had streaks of gray. The other man had a large belly, and was completely bald, dressed in a robe of purple silk. This was the first man who spoke.
"Lord Stark, it is a pleasure to meet you. I have to say we were most surprised when we heard that it was you and not Lord Eddard that would be coming, but it is honor to have you hear as well. I am Varys, the King's Master of Whisperers."
"It's an honor to meet you," Robb said, nodding his head.
"Yes, quite the honor," the other man said in a smooth voice. "Just be cautious of your secrets, because Varys here does his best to make sure he knows everyone's."
"And you don't, Lord Baelish?" Varys questioned.
"Baelish?" Robb asked the man, recognizing the name.
"Yes, Petyr Baelish, or Littlefinger to my friends. I'm sure your Mother must have mentioned my name over the years. I grew up with her in Riverrun. I must say you favor her very much in appearance."
"She has mentioned you, Lord Baelish," Robb confirmed. Though he would not say that his Father had mentioned Baelish as well, and the story of his Uncle Brandon permanently scarring the man.
"If you write to her, be sure to send my regards, and let her know that I promise to make sure her son is well taken care of while he's here," Baelish grinned.
Robb hoped that those words would comfort his Mother, because they did nothing for him. For some reason, these two men terrified him.