They had stopped briefly at the Twins on the way north, but only for a short rest. Robb could only take the blathering of Walder Frey for so long, before he began to seriously consider throwing the man off his own fucking bridge. Watching the way the man treated his own family, Robb doubted they would truly mind. Still, the rush to leave the Twins had sent the King's company trudging headfirst through a squall of snow. Robb, leading the column of riders, brushed the accumulating flakes from his hair and beard. His crown was tucked safely away in his saddle, as the dampness was weighing him down enough.
"Nothing quite like home," Jon commented from his mount beside him.
"Cold, wind, and snow. A beautiful northern day," Robb laughed.
"Did you ever think when we made the trip, you'd becoming back a king?"
"Never in my wildest nightmares."
They rode on for several hours, hugging the eastern branch of the Green Fork.
Robb knew they were getting close, because the ground had turned soft, revealing the swampy bogs of the Neck. As they reached the end of the Green Fork, Robb could see the black smoke of campfires burning ahead. He urged his horse on, the riders behind him following closely. He passed through the bog into a more open stretch of terrain where a large camp had been erected. The bear of House Mormont and the Direwolf of House Stark stood out prominently on the banners. To the west, Robb saw the floating islands of Greywater Watch and House Reed. As he saw the home of the crannogmen, his father's words to him before the battle played over again in his mind.
A horn sounded at the sight of riders approaching the camp, rousing the inhabitants. The men and women of House Mormont quickly assembled quickly. Several of Robb's riders, bearing his banners aloft, rode forward announcing his arrival. Realizing that it would be expected of him, Robb reached into his saddlebag and pulled out the crown, placing it atop his head. His Kingsguard around him, Robb trotted forward until he could finally see the faces of those assembled, all of whom had taken a knee or bowed at his arrival.
He sees the grey-haired Lady Maege Mormont, and next to her the imposing, yet attractive figure of Lady Maege's daughter, Dacey. Robb knew the two of them could hold their own against any fighting man. As his eyes traveled further, Robb's breath nearly left him, his emotions tumbling, as he saw his Mother and youngest sister, both bowed in a curtsey to their king. Not caring at all about impropriety or looking weak, Robb slid from his horse and strode quickly towards his Mother. Her head was down, so she gave a slight squawk of surprise as Robb lifted her up and embraced her strongly. He could feel her hands grip his furs, pulling him in tighter, and he could also feel the tears on her cheeks as they stood locked.
Eventually they pulled apart, Robb kissing his Mother on the forehead before they separated completely. "Mother," Robb finally greeted properly.
"Your Grace," Catelyn stated, her eyes still wet. She reached up and ran a hand along his bearded cheek. "Look at you. It looks as if you've aged ten years. I'm so proud of you."
Robb looked down, unable to take his Mother's praise. "I'm sorry I could not bring Father back to you."
"You're Father is home, Robb," Catelyn answered, her voice shaking. "He is resting with his family now. I will always love your Father, but he was where he was meant to be, protecting his son and his House. He died with honor."
"I know," Robb responded. "It does not make it easier. I miss his wisdom everyday."
"You have done so much, Robb," Catelyn stated. "Your people are proud to call you their King."
Robb nodded, before looking to his right, into the wide grey eyes of his sister. He stepped to her and Arya launched herself into his arms. "It is so good to see you," Robb smiled, hugging her tightly.
"I was afraid I would not see you again," Arya sighed.
"Well we're together again. Though, I have some bad news for you."
Arya leaned back, giving him a nervous look. "What is it?"
"I know how much you always hated the idea of being a lady. Unfortunately, since I am a King now, I think that makes you a princess of the North. How does that sound, Princess Arya?"
"It sounds absolutely awful," Arya frowned. "It's going to make Sansa insufferable…well, more than usual"
"You'll get used to it," Robb laughed, setting her down. "Speaking of Sansa, how are the others? I regret that I have not had an opportunity to see Bran since he woke."
"They are well," his Mother said. "Sansa regrets that she could not come, but you and I both know that a prolonged journey on the road would not be agreeable with her. She is seeing to Bran and making sure that Rickon does not drive the castle mad."
"I understand," Robb stated, placing Arya down and retrieving his crown, which he just noticed that she had plucked from his head. She slipped passed him and moved to hug Jon. Robb looked back to his Mother. "If the war allows, I would like to ride back to Winterfell soon to see them. That, and I have spent more time in the south than I would ever like to again."
"Winterfell waits for you," Catelyn replied.
"What of the raids from the wildlings? I've had ravens from Roose Bolton advising that he's captured raiding parties that are larger than the norm. He's said many have had women and children with them as well."
"There have been a few groups encountered in the Wolfswood in the past weeks. Lord Commander Mormont has written as well to express his concern over the activity and the Wall's lack of manpower. There is something else you should know as well," Catelyn stated, her expression grim.
"What is it?" Robb asked.
"Your Uncle Benjen journeyed beyond the Wall and has not been heard from in weeks."
"Have they sent someone to search for him?" Robb queried, the news that his Father's last living sibling was missing distressing.
"As of the last letter, no. They lack enough experienced men to risk searching aimlessly, without an idea as to where Benjen may be."
Robb sighed, running an agitated hand through his beard. It seemed the things to worry about were never-ending. What was clear, though, was that he would have to allot some of his attention to goings on in the far north.
Robb made his rounds, greeting the Mormonts and their soldiers, before just he and his family, including Jon, Theon and Gendry, retired to a private tent for a meal.
Arya was the first to notice Gendry's presence in the tent. "Who is this?"
"Name is Gendry, milady," the blacksmith answered.
"Don't call me that," Arya bristled.
"Pardon, milady?" Gendry asked in confusion.
"We found Gendry in King's Landing," Robb explained as he poured himself a cup of wine. "What I'm going to tell you does not leave this tent. Gendry is the son of Robert Baratheon."
"Bastard son," Gendry was quick to clarify.
"And yet more of a son to Robert Baratheon than the little shit who sits on the Throne in King's Landing," Robb continued.
"You certainly resemble him," Catelyn noted. Gendry simply shrugged, unsure what to say to that. "Anyway," Catelyn pivoted. "You can imagine my surprise when I learned that you were planning on marriage."
"It crossed my mind that you would have an opinion on the matter," Robb grinned.
Catelyn sighed, "Robb, it is bad enough you're marrying a southern bride, but you ran off with the daughter of the Warden of the South, against his wishes. A girl who you barely knew."
"We know each other well enough now," Robb countered, declining to detail how well. "And it wasn't as if I just picked her up against her wishes and ran from the capital. Her fool of a Father was trying to hand us over to the Lannisters, and she and her brother were crucial in that not happening."
"I am grateful for that," Catelyn admitted, though her expression was still standoffish. "Still, it does not help our position at all to be at odds with the Reach. The number of fighting men they are able to field is more than our own…not to discount the addition of the Lannisters to those numbers."
"Lady Catelyn, I think you'll find the support of the Reach is fractured at the moment," Theon interjected. "It will be much clearer when we reach Seagard."
"As much as I love a riddle, I am in no mood for them. Tell me what it is you mean?"
"Mace Tyrell's family thinks he is as big of a fool as we do," Robb explained bluntly. "We have the support of Lady Olenna and Margaery's brothers. Just before we received the raven informing of your arrival, Garlan and Loras Tyrell landed at Seagard with fourteen thousand men and the Redwyne Fleet."
"Fourteen thousand?" Catelyn questioned, clearly surprised.
"Yes. Other than the fact that I love Margaery, joining through marriage will only tie our Houses more closely together. I'm sure the northern lords would much rather me marry one of their daughters, but none of them are bringing me that many men, nor a fleet."
"I cannot dispute that," Catelyn said. "Does she make you happy?"
"Aye, she does," Robb stated. "She'll make an excellent Queen."
"Then I will say no more until I've had the chance to meet her."
"She's not a stuffy Lady like Sansa, is she?" Arya questioned.
"Arya!" Catelyn snapped.
Robb, even though he knew he shouldn't, hid his laugh behind his hand. "Margaery is very good at making friends with all sorts. I think you will like her, Arya."
They spent another hour talking, catching up after so much time apart. Eventually, the thing that had been nagging Robb earlier resurfaced and he caught Jon's attention.
"I mean to go and have word with Lord Reed. Will you accompany me?" Robb asked, giving Jon a look that told him was not really a question, but a demand.
"Aye," Jon nodded.
They made the way out of the tent, picking up a group of guards tailing them as they moved towards the Green Fork. Greywater Watch stood out prominently in the bogs, a ramshackle amalgamation of various materials formed into a floating castle. Surrounding it were scores of other smaller floating building, most serving as homes for the crannogmen and others for various functions. A floating bridge connected the shoreline to the castle. Two crannogmen bearing frog spears stood beside the bridge, serving as a guard.
"I would like to speak with your lord," Robb stated, stopping in front of the bridge. The two crannogmen glanced at one another, before stepping aside with out a word and allowing Robb and Jon to pass. He directed his other guards to stay where there were, as he doubted he would face any danger within Lord Reed's halls. They entered the castle and were met by a young woman. She wasn't tall, but she still radiated a confident presence. Her dark, curled hair was tied tightly back behind her head, and she wore breeches and a scaled jerkin.
"Welcome, your Grace" the woman greeted. "I'm Meera Reed."
"A pleasure to meet you, Lady Meera," Robb said. "Your Father was a great friend of mine own. Before he died, my Father told me to come and speak with Lord Howland. Is he present?"
"He is, your grace. I will take you to him." They followed Meera through a maze of hallways until they reached a closed door. She knocked twice, but didn't wait for a response before pushing it open. The door opened into a small, square room, where a man was seated at a table, book open in front of him. The room was lit by an array of scones on the wall that appeared to be made out of the bones of various creatures. The lone occupant, a slightly built man, with a head of unkempt hair looked up at the visitors.
"It seems the time has finally come." Howland Reed put down his tome, no sign of surprise at the King's sudden presence. "I knew when the news of my good friend Ned 's death came, that it would not be long before you came. Nothing stays buried forever. Come my friend, sit."
Robb looked quickly at Jon, who merely shrugged in acceptance. They each pulled up a stool and sat across from Lord Reed. Robb barely noticed as the door closed behind them, Meera disappearing behind it. "My Father was adamant that we should come see you, Lord Howland."
"Your Father was a great man, King Robb, greater than even you know." Lord Reed looked away briefly, and Robb could see wetness at the corner of his eyes. "He was a man who honored his word, and loved his family more than anything. But he carried a burden for most of his life, that a lesser man would never have managed, and he carried until the day he drew his last breath on the field in the Riverlands."
"What burden?" Robb's attention was riveted, and he could practically feel Jon tense next to him.
Howland Reed rubbed his hand across the stubble on his chin. "Maybe burden is not quite the term to use, because I doubt Ned ever saw it as such… but more a duty…a duty to his family…to his sister…to his nephew…"
"Nephew?" Robb frowned.
"When I followed your Father to the Tower of Joy those many years ago, we found your Aunt Lyanna there, but not as your Father had expected. She lay dying. She had just given birth to a child, you see, and the effort had damaged her beyond hope of saving."
"Rhaegar raped my Aunt and made her bear his child," Robb bristled.
"Bear his child, yes…rape her…no," Howland whispered.
"What do you mean?" Jon questioned.
"Your Aunt was headstrong. She did not want to be told what to do. She never loved Robert Baratheon, had no desire to be his wife. When Rhaegar took her away with him, it was because she wanted him to…because she loved him, or at least thought she did. Robert led a rebellion based on a lie…though that is not to say that Lyanna and Rhaegar were innocent. Rhaegar was married and Lyanna intended for another man. Their impulsiveness led to the death of many, including your grandfather and uncle. Though it also led to a birth." Howland's eyes shifted slowly from Robb until he was staring unblinkingly at Jon. "You're birth."
"What?" Robb watched as his brother's face scrunched in confusion.
"You are not the son of Eddard Stark, Jon. You are not a Snow. You are the son of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen."
Robb saw that Jon was not able to manage words, so he spoke for him. "Lord Howland, are you telling me that my Father…a man whose honor meant more to him than anything… lied to our entire family for years? That he lied to my Mother about fathering a bastard? Something that she held over him for their entire marriage?"
"Your Father made a promise to Lyanna as she lay dying that he would protect Jon. He took that promise to heart, even though it meant his honor would be stained with the mark of an adulterer for the rest of his life. If Robert had ever discovered the truth of Jon's parentage, Robert would have marched an army North in a rage just to see him put to death. Ned thought it the only way of protecting Jon's life."
"What does it change?" Jon's face was haunted. "The one thing that I took some pride in was that Eddard Stark was my father…now…it's all been a lie. My whole life has been a fucking lie. Yet, the one thing that hasn't changed…I'm still a damn bastard."
"You're not a bastard," Howland interrupted. "Rhaegar set aside his wife and married Lyanna. They were wed when you were born, Jon. You are the heir to the Targaryen line. That was why Ned was so set on his secrecy. You were a living threat to Robert's throne. There are some who would still support such a thing…a Targaryen king."
Robb had never been more blindsided by anything in his entire life. His own Father had been telling them all lies. His poor Mother had endured the shame that her husband had been unfaithful to her…which had ultimately led to Jon being treated as an outsider in his own home. And now the final revelation…that Jon had a claim to the Iron Throne. He was brought suddenly out of his mental ramblings when Jon stood from his own chair. Robb watched, his body paralyzed, as Jon unsheathed his sword from his hip. A sudden flash of fear that Jon meant to truly exercise his claim overtook him, but then went away as his brother…no, his cousin…knelt in front of him and held out his sword, where it rested on his palms.
"Every word that Lord Reed has said may be the truth, but I never met Lyanna Stark nor Rhaegar Targaryen. They may be my parents by nature, but Ned Stark was the only Father I've ever known. I'm no Targaryen… I am a northman. I have no interest or desire to sit on a southern throne. Ned Stark taught me the importance of living up to your oaths, and I swore an oath to stand beside his son, Robb Stark, King in the North. Nothing has changed, and I intend to do just that, from this day until my last day."
Robb, struck by Jon's words, slowly stood form his chair. Without barely a thought, he reached down and drew his own sword. He placed the blade down against Jon's shoulder. "No matter who your parents were, you will always be my brother. You will always be a Stark. And so that everyone will know it, by my word as King, from this day until your last day, you shall be known as Jon Stark, a true son of Winterfell."
As the words left his mouth, Robb saw Jon's head drop down, overcome by emotion. Done with all the ceremony and formality, Robb dropped his sword to the side and pulled his brother into a strong embrace. Brothers…that was what they were, and they would defend their home together.