Robb
To say that things in Winterfell were awkward would be such an understatement that Robb felt that even thinking on such a thing was earning him condescending glances from the guards and servants. The changes, the alterations, the utter shifting in their entire reality had left no one unaffected. And there was simply no denying that they had all been affected. One couldn't bury their head in a snowdrift and pretend that all was normal. Everyone that dwelled in Winterfell simply wouldn't allow for that.
Yet, in a sign of how contradictory life could be, for all that had changed life remained rather the same.
When Robb had been a boy, before he'd been allowed into the training yard to learn how to swing a sword, when the only thing that mattered to him were the blocks and wooden figures that were pulled from the small toy chest in his room, he'd heard stories about the great events in Westeros. Aegon the Conqueror. The Dance of the Dragons. The Blackfyre Rebellion. The many plagues that had come and gone throughout the Seven Kingdoms that had laid low the highborn and lowborn alike.
And in each of those stories Robb had always found it so hard to believe that people would go back to their normal lives after so much bad had happened. How could a blacksmith make swords for the king that had killed the monarch the man had pledged his life too? How could a woman continue on when her husband and all her children had been taken by a sickness, praising the very gods that had been so cruel to her? It had made no sense to him... why were there not more tales of vengeance sworn and promises made in blood?
Yet he found in Winterfell the very thing that had so befuddled him happening once more. The dead had been buried, the gates repaired, the homes that had been damaged in the assault put right. Robb had decreed a relaxation on taxes for six months time as compensation for the terror that the people of Winter Town had gone through and had personally met with all those that had lost someone in the raid to ensure he could find a way to make up for the injustice. He knew that lands for sons that were growing into men and gold to women who needed food were poor replacements for family but he couldn't have lived with himself if he did nothing. Yet even those that had lost so much were willing to return to the lives they had once known, acting as if the Iron Born had never attacked the castle.
'No... not act as if it didn't happen,' Robb thought to himself as he watched Jory swung his sword only to curse when his sparring partner easily blocked it with his knives. 'Moved past it. They know it happened but they accept it as merely another piece of their history. Just as the Starks accept that Torrhen knelt or that Aegon the Dragonbane broke his word during the Hour of the Wolf so too do they make such things merely another part of their personal tales. They accept the changes and integrate them into their lives.'
"You're a sharp one, aren't you?" Jory said, panting.
His green skin foe blinked at that, dropping his guard slightly as he puzzled over that. "I'm not sharp," Drax stated. "There isn't a sharp part on me. Except my finger nails but I just trimmed those. Did you not notice that?"
Jory just looked at Drax, his mouth slightly open as his brain clearly tried to wrap itself around what the Child of the Forest had just said.
"Don't bother!" Rocket declared from where he sat. He was tinkering with... something, Robb wasn't 100% sure what it was. He did know that when Maester Luwin had asked about it Rocket had muttered something and then the old man had quickly put a bit of distance between himself and the talking raccoon. "The Titan he bonded with doesn't understand metaphors. They go right over his head."
"Nothing goes over my head," Drax said stubbornly. "I am too quick; I would catch it."
"See?" Rocket asked Jory.
'Case in point when it comes to accepting the strange and merely integrating it one's life...'
Rickon's friends and allies had caused a stir within Winterfell and while there was still a bit of unease concerning the two green skinned warriors, the talking raccoon, and the walking Weirwood, the servants and soldiers of Winterfell were growing used to their presence. Awkwardness remained and he doubted it would ever go away, but now when people openly stared it was because one of them had done something so amazing or strange that such was the only reaction to be had, no different if it had been Jory or Ser Rodrik.
'If only I could claim that as my reason for being so awkward around them,' Robb thought as he waited for his turn in the yard.
The one he got along with the best was, of all shocks and surprises, Groot. The moving weirwood was a simple creature when he wasn't defending his friends, preferring to quietly observe all that was going around him and offer help without request. Rocket seemed to be the only one that understood him and when Robb had asked Rickon about that his brother had assured him that while it was tempting to believe that Rocket was taking the piss out of them by simply lying about Groot's words Rickon knew that the creative and foul-mouthed fuzzy ball wasn't false when it came to Groot.
"Groot wouldn't let him," Rickon had said with a smirk.
Rickon. Things were... better between him and his brother. It was still so strange though to think that the man that was closer to father's age than his own was his baby brother. Yet he could see glimpses of the wild and playful child Rickon had been in the cocky yet friendly man that roamed about Winterfell, Shaggydog trailing after him most days. Rickon had spent much of his time helping Robb meet with the people of WInter Town and determine would could be done to help them. He also liked to spend time with Roslin; Robb had been worried about that briefly, especially when he'd discovered that Rickon enjoyed ducking down to Winter Town to visit the whore house, but his brother had assured him that his interest in Robb's wife had nothing to do with carnal urges. Rather, much to Rickon's embarrassment, it was because Roslin reminded him of both Sansa and Arya and he missed them both terribly. Roslin, for her part, didn't mind that Rickon liked to intrude on her time sewing or going over the books with Luwin, indulging the man who still had the heart of a child.
Rocket was easily fourth and that had everything to do with Drax's personality, which made him third. With the green skinned man everything was rather straight forward. When he was hungry he would ask for a meal. When he was confused about something he'd bluntly demand to know what was going on. He announced wherever he was going; more than once Robb had been meeting with the castle guard only for Drax to declare he 'needed to shit' before walking away. It was oddly refreshing to have someone who was so open. No secrets, no games.
With Rocket though? It seemed like he went out of his way to antagonize. To mock, to belittle, to try and pick at a scab just to see what might come bursting out... literally, in one case, if one of the household guards was to be believed. Even Rickon and his other companions couldn't keep a firm control of him, getting sucked into his snark and his backtalk. The raccoon was utterly brilliant though and that was why Robb was rather sure none of the guards had decided to punt him over one of the walls.
'And what a day in Westeros when that sentence can be said and not sound mad,' Robb thought to himself, shifting as the final member of Rickon's group arrived. The one that was the most awkward for Robb to be around.
Gamora.
Or, as her human half had been called, Lyanna Stark.
The revelation of who the green skinned warrioress actually was had floored Robb, as had the rest of her tale. She hadn't realized that the secret about Jon ('Jon!') and his true lineage hadn't been made known; when she'd told Robb he had apparently gone white as a sheet and nearly collapsed right there in front of the statues of Arya and Sansa, Gamora losing her aloofness as she'd panicked over his near fainting. When he'd been able to actually handle a conversation she had stated that she'd assumed Ned would tell SOMEONE about Jon, in case something happened to him. The family at the very least deserved to know, if only to understand the danger Jon might bring through no fault of his own. Rickon had been too young to understand her questions and when she'd asked about Jon and if he knew the truth about him the boy had merely shrugged and Gamora had accepted that to mean that he did.
Gamora had been shocked and disgusted when Robb told her the truth… and cursed Rickon twenty times over and swore to beat him senseless for never telling her of her error. It had come so out of nowhere and her description had been so graphic of what she was going to do to 'That little shit and his utterly pathetic dancing!' that Robb had briefly forgotten all emotion save befuddled amusement. But after that shock had worn off for Gamora she had become enraged that Jon had been given the burden of being a bastard and it had only been their cousin Antony who'd had the good sense to remove that taint.
"I asked him to protect him, yes, but I thought he would at least understand that I wanted him to have a decent life as well! What did he think I meant when I said 'Promise me'? 'Oh, promise me Ned that my child will feel like an outcast his entire life'." she had ranted. While much of the time Gamora portrayed herself as being separate from Lyanna Stark, in that moment, after her revelation, she had seemed to forget that she was anything other than The Wolf Maid. "A bastard! A bastard! No, my son is no bastard! He is the blood of the wolf and the dragon! Ice and blood!" She'd begun to pace up and down the dark tunnel, past the statues of their ancestors as she ranted about her brother's foolishness and how if things had been different she would have handled the situation so much better. "But that is Ned… think only one step ahead." Robb had opened his mouth to point out the hypocrisy of that statement but Gamora had just continued on. "However did Ned convince your mother to care for Jon? I remember hearing about her from the men that came to negotiate her vows with father; they warned Brandon that she would not tolerate bastards and that her view of the world was narrow. How… did…"
Robb's face must have betrayed his thoughts in that moment because Gamora had grown silent before letting out a snarl and punching the crypt wall so hard cracks formed.
"When I see your mother she and I will have… words."
After that Robb hadn't known how to act around the woman. Was she a Titan from a plane of existence that he simply didn't understand? Or was she his aunt returned from the grave to a world that had moved on while she was dead? Did he consider her to be either of those people or did he take Rickon to his word that she was the two merged into one? What did that even mean? It didn't help that Gamora didn't seem to know how she wanted to treat him. At times she sought him out, wanting to ask about Jon and his childhood (and how glad Robb was that he'd never let his mother infect him with her hatred of his brother as she had Sansa; he didn't want to imagine how Gamora would have reacted had he treated him poorly; his tales of how much he loved Jon, how he had planned to have Jon serve as his second in command, had warmed her heart). But then there would be days where he would approach her to talk only for her to be dismissive… no, that wasn't quite right. She wasn't rude but instead had her attention on other things. Mostly training.
Such as that morning, as she swept into the training yard and pulled out her sword, spinning it before motioning for two of the household guards to come forward.
"You've had your fun, Drax, now it is my turn," she told him.
"This was not fun this was training. Training that was entertaining, for Jory here is quite skilled, and I found joy in-"
"That's the definition of fun!" Rocket called out.
"Is it?" Drax turned towards Maester Luwin. "Bring me a book of word meanings, chain-man. I wish to determine if this is true." Maester Luwin looked about helplessly but when Robb merely shrugged the Maester shuffled off to get one of his tomes… most likely thinking that it was likely he'd never get to see the book again after Drax was done with it. The green man went over to fill himself a mug of ale from a cask he'd demanded be set up near the training yard and watched as Gamora began to spare with the two men, easily holding her own against them.
"What do you think of her?" he asked Ser Rodrik as Gamora twirled about the battlefield, long coat swirling about her calves as she blocked one blow while keeping her eyes on the other man. "You've watched her now for a while… the men are no longer startled by her showing up in the yard demanding a chance to train same as them. You've been able to see her fight. What do you think of her?"
The old grizzled man-at-arms reached up and tugged on his side whiskers in thought; they'd finally grown back to a somewhat decent length after he'd been forced to shave them off during his trip to King's Landing. "I haven't actually seen her fight. Not really. I've seen her spar and there is a difference. You should understand that now, having tasted battle yourself."
Robb nodded quietly at that; the man spoke the truth of it. 'How easy it was to declare that I would draw my sword and cut down the Lannisters for crippling Bran. But I would never do that again, not now that I have had a taste of battle. To know what it is like to live on that edge between life and death, where luck and skill come together to determine if I live or die. What fools boys are and I was a foolish boy.'
"But," Ser Rodrik stated, watching as Gamora flicked her sword and caused the blade of one of the guards to go flying through the air. But rather than press her attack against him she moved to the other one, calling out for the first to retrieve his blade.
"But?"
"Even if I were to merely judge her on this performance it would tell me little."
"What do you mean?"
He nodded towards her as she blocked a blow with her blade. "She is toying with them. Not giving it her all. Her muscles aren't tense, her steps not nearly as quick as they could be. She could dance about them and never let a sword touch her but instead she chooses block with that blade of hers. But it is clear from the way she is moving that none of this is actually about her. Same with that other one, Drax. They aren't here to hone their skills."
Robb frowned at that, watching as his aunt disarmed the second man and then moved back to the first, blocking his blows with a series of quick parries. The man grit his teeth but, to his credit, continued on with his attack, trying to find an opening. And as Robb watched Gamora deflect his attacks he saw exactly what Ser Rodrik had glimpsed: Gamora wasn't giving the fight everything she could. She was telegraphing her moves, checking her blows before they could get through his defenses. There were glimpses of her true speed, of just how dangerous she could be, and Robb could see that she wasn't wearing herself out in the slightest.
He recognized exactly where he had seen such movement before and at once he understood what she was doing.
"You see it too, don't you?" the old knight asked.
Robb nodded. "She's training them. She isn't saying it out loud but she's training him. All of them. The enemy we face is stronger and faster than us so she is allowing us to build towards that level rather than merely tossing us against the Others and hoping we survive."
"Indeed," Rodrik stated. "And Drax is doing the same."
He looked over at Rocket. "He has been experimenting with different devices, causing accidents that force everyone to get out of the way… what are the chances that he is testing us too?"
"Pretty good, I would say."
Robb frowned, grabbing onto the wooden post that formed the fencing in front of him. "I think Rickon and I need to have another conversation." He had no problem with what they were doing but the… dishonesty… of it all irked him.
"Might be better to let your father do that. When is he supposed to arrive?" Ser Rodrik asked as Gamora motioned for the two men to step aside and be replaced by fresh warriors.
"If the roads are good then any day now," Robb stated. "I tried to make clear in my letter that he needed to hurry back as quickly as he could."
"You didn't tell him about..."
"Rickon? How could I? Would you believe it if you hadn't seen it? Do you even believe it now?"
"Aye, you have the right of it there," the grizzled warrior muttered. "We are living in the strangest of times and even with the proof before me I can't help but think it not real." He let out a huff. "Remember when our biggest concern was the blonde shit sitting on the Iron Throne and his cuckholding mother?"
"I almost long for those days," Robb admitted glibbly. He didn't say out loud that what he truly longed for was his father to take the burden of rule off his hands. In his youth he had dreamed of the day he would be a man grown and it would be his right to rule. Some of the dreams had been folly, like imagining himself leading a charge past the Wall and slaying a King Beyond The Wall in combat and claiming the savages as his new army. Others had been much better, even if they most likely would have caused chaos in the North. Of those his favorite had involved him bringing Jon before him and declaring him a Stark and naming him his second, so they might rule together as they were meant too. To give him land of his own and let him forge a cadet branch and one day, a few generations perhaps, reunite their houses through marriage. But now that he had tasted power and understood how bitter that drink could be he was willing to push the cup aside and let his father taste of it for as long as he desired.
'I am not ready,' he thought to himself. 'Nor do I desire to be ready. I have much yet I must learn.' He wouldn't pull away from his duty, for it wasn't in him to be so dishonorable, but he would allow his father to rule and he would watch and learn. He would understand what it meant to be a king from him and when the time did come again for him to don the crown he would be ready-
There was a small BOOM! that made him jump and he turned to see the guards rising from the ground from where they had leapt, Rocket cackling to himself before he held up a small dish-like object and pressed something on it, causing the explosive noise to admit from it again. Gamora glared at him while Drax burst out laughing as well… and Robb pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Maybe I shouldn't wait for father and just talk to Rickon myself."
"You might not need too," Ser Rodrik stated and Robb turned to see his brother hurrying towards them, Shaggydog, Grey Wind, and Roslin fast on his heels. Rickon was wearing a short black coat with gray strips of leather sewn onto it, silver thread embroderied on the back in the shape of a direwolf made of stars. People in Winterfell had once called him the Little Pup but now he was the Star Wolf; Rickon's attempts to get them to call him call him 'Star-Lord' instead kept falling on deaf ears. As for Roslin she wore a dress the color of frozen grass with a long black cloak trimmed with white fur that she clutched tightly around her; it matched the one Robb had taken to wearing ever since he'd become the acting Lord of the North and master of Winterfell. Robb stepped towards his family only to see that his brother was wearing a rather uncharacteristically stern look on his face.
"Rickon?" he asked.
"Gamora! Drax! Rocket! Where is Groot?" Rickon called out.
Gamora disarmed the man she was facing, catching his blade before answering, "In the Godswood."
"Someone go get him," Rickon said sternly. "The portal's opening up again."
THAT got everyone's attention and Rocket hurried to fetch Groot while Drax and Gamora moved to join Robb and Ser Rodrik in following after Rickon; Robb's brother had already turned from them and was hurrying back the way he had came.
Robb muttered a curse and hurried after Rickon, his cloak flapping behind him as he dashed to keep up. His brother was taller than him now and Rickon seemed to forget that his long legs let him eat up distance far more than others. Roslin was practically running to keep up and the direwolves had moved into a lopping gait as they rushed towards the Crypts. Drax and Gamora were behind Robb, as was much of the men who had been in the training yard; all of them wanted to see who this new arrival was and what their coming heralded.
They had just neared the Crypt entrance, Robb able to see the guards he had still had manning the opening though now for a far difference purpose than they had before in those dark days of Rickon's disappearance, when he saw Groot walking towards them, Rocket riding on his shoulder and for once quiet with no sass or smart remark. That chilled Robb greatly... if Rocket was solemn and anxious that meant things could get very bad very quickly.
There was a sudden flash of light and he heard once more the mysterious voices singing, only this time it was only a snippet and he didn't know what to make of them crying out about a 'Fox on the Run', and then it was silent again... save for voice calling out that was more of a gritty growl than a man's bellow.
"BOY! YA BETTER NOT BE LEAVIN' ME WAITIN'!"
"Shit," Rickon muttered as he came to a stop, face pale. "It's Yondu."
"Is that bad?"
"For Westeros? No. For us?" He shrugged before calling out with a voice that tried to hold confidence and utterly failed, "Nah, we're here!"
"The Guardians too?"
"And Robb and his ladywife." Rickon looked behind them before adding, "And half the men at arms."
"Even better!" the voice, the Child Rickon called Yondu, called out. "I don't feel like doin' this more than once! Want to take a look and see how Ned has done with the place instead of wasting time flappin' my gums."
Robb looked towards Roslin who merely shrugged. "Hopefully he's pleased," she said.
"Hopefully."
The figure that emerged from the crypts caused Robb to stop short even though he knew he shouldn't have. He should have been used to the likes of Gamora and Drax by now but seeing this new Child of the Forest... still it made his eyes widen and his jaw drop a touch before he gained back control of himself. The figure was older than the first two Children Robb had met, with a lined and scarred face the showed a life well and hard lived. Yondu had blue skin like a deep lake and rather than a mane of hair his scalp was bald with a strange red metal... fin, for the lack of a better word... sticking right out of it; it reminded Robb of some of the drawings Maester Luwin had shown him of Essosi savages. He had a short stubbly beard and when he smiled crooked teeth made him look at once more friendly yet also more dangerous. He was dressed in layered black leathers and was idly playing with a deep red arrow shaft, twirling it around his fingers despite the fact that there was no bow on his back.
"Well, it's still standing so you haven't fucked things up too bad," Yondu declared before walking towards Rickon who looked oddly sheepish. "Come on, boy! Too old to give me a hug?"
Rickon blushed and moved to embraced Yondu... only for the Child to punch him in the shoulder.
"By the Gods!" Rickon groaned, hand pressed to his shoulder.
"Don't let your guard down! I always warned you about that!"
"I didn't!" Rickon said and Robb tilted to his right to see that Rickon had drawn a dagger and was holding it near Yondu's side.
"Heh... heheheh!" The blue man laughed and this time actually did hug Rickon tight. "My boy! But what else should I expect of my human half's grandson!"
"...what?" Robb said but before he could ask for clarification Yondu strode forward and moved to Drax and Gamora, both of whom tensed before giving the man a hug.
"Hello father," Gamora stated.
"Greetings, father," Drax echoed.
Robb stared at the Children of the Forest in shock. As did Roslin… and Maester Luwin… and in fact from the way everything had grown utterly silent he was pretty sure everyone who had gathered to see Yondu had been struck mute by the revelation he had just delivered.
"Why are they all looking at us like that?" Yondu hissed at Rickon, finally noticing the stares the group was getting.
"Well, you see…" the youngest yet also oldest of the Stark children said, rubbing the back of his head.
Gamora was just as bashful as Rickon, which in and of itself was a startling thing to see. Confident. Brave. Sometimes quiet and melancholy. Those were emotions Robb was used to seeing Gamora wear upon her features. But bashful? Never. It seemed utterly wrong for her to be so.
"It's just…" she said.
Drax looked at the two of them, befuddled. "Why are you two not speaking? Is there something wrong with your tongues? Were they cursed? I will kill the witch that did that! Where is she?!"
Yondu rubbed his forehead with his thumb and index figure. "Twigtuff still givin' Brandon problems?"
"Oh yeah," Rocket said, hopping down from Groot. "They aren't blending properly. Or if they are Drax here got the dumb sides of both of them. Brandon's rashness and Twigtuff's knowledge on Westeros, instead of the other way around like you were hoping. So he rushes into battle without a plan and half the time he's fighting a rock or his own reflection."
"I have never fought my own reflection!" Drax said in annoyance. "And that rock was clearly evil." He looked to Gamora and Rickon again. "That rock is the one that cursed them, is it not? I will slay the rock and all its kin to save their tongues!"
"I am Groot!"
"No, do NOT offer him help!" Rocket complained before turning to Drax. "There isn't anything wrong with their tongues! They just don't want to admit to Yondu that they failed to reveal who your human halves were."
"…what?" Yondu said, incredulous… and with a hint of anger that had Rickon wincing.
Drax looked back and forth between the two before turning to Robb. "So you did not know that my human half is your Uncle Brandon?"
"No, I knew," Robb said, face twisted in disbelief. "This is the face of someone who knew!"
"…oh. I did not think people who knew things looked so confused." He walked over and slapped his hand onto Robb's shoulder, nearly sending him toppling to the ground. "It must be the Tully side of you." He chuckled. "Did you know I nearly married your mother? My human half, at least. I do not blame your father… your mother has a nice ass. I looked at it many times and planned to do many things to it." He paused. "Sexually." Another pause. "With my penis."
Rocket palmed his head in his hands and groaned.
"Well," Yondu said, shoulders slumped as he poked at the inside of his cheek with his tongue, considering all he had just heard concerning his son. When he snapped his head in Gamora and Rickon's direction it was so quick it made both of them jump and he jabbed a finger at them, a smile that wasn't at all kind forming on his lips. "You mean to tell me you've been keeping secrets from these people when we are going to need their help?"
Rickon held up his hands. "I know what you are insinuating Yondu and let me be clear that there is a perfectly reasonable explanation."
And then he didn't say a word.
"…and?"
"Oh, was I supposed to give one?" Rickon asked. "I thought all I had to say was there was a reasonable explanation and you'd drop it."
Yondu snapped his teeth together. "I'd like to assume that stupidity doesn't come from my blood but Gamora here did the same thing you did!"
"Hey!" Gamora snapped. "It isn't like that!" She gestured at Robb. "I told him and he reacted badly so I thought it best to hide the truth for a while! You said it yourself, we are trying to help save Westeros… bogging them down with who our human halves were would have only complicated matters."
"That almost sounds like a good reason." Yondu suddenly reached out and smacked RIckon and Gamora across the back of the heads, Rickon yelping in pain while Gamora's eyes flashed with rage before she tapped that emotion down. "Almost." Yondu whistled (and for some reason ALL of Rickon and his allies cringed at that, though Robb didn't know why) to get the crowd's attention. "Alright, I'm only gonna say this once so everyone needs to pay attention!" He leapt up onto a crate and held his arms out wide, waiting for them all to settle down. "I am the leader of the Children of the Forest. Yondu. Me, Gamora, and Drax came into being with the Children, known as the Titans, merged with the honorable dead of the followers of the Old Gods so that we could come and help you all kick the Others' chilly asses from here all the way back to the Land of Forever Winter. My human self is Rickard Stark which means I am now back to being your liege lord and you are gonna do what I say! Drax is my boy Brandon only he has a few nails that weren't quite hammered in right-"
"That isn't correct. When I hammer a nail they are always pounded down fully!" He smacked his fist into his open hand.
"…exactly. And Gamora is Lyanna Stark. Jon Snow is her boy, not Ned's kid, because my Ned is a noble idiot and I'm going to smack him for coming up with that lie. Robb is my grandson, so is Rickon who is now the oldest. Arya is alive-" THAT made Robb's eyes go wide and his heart flutter with hope, "-and Sansa, last I checked, put her soul inside a direwolf. Bran is traveling with the Reed kids, Walder, Osha, and Jaime Lannister." There was a rumble at that and Yondu sneered. "Oh knock it off! We have bigger things to worry about than the petty Southern war. Didn't any of ya hear a word I just fuckin' said? The Others are marchin' on the gods be damned Wall! The Night's King is waking up and when that purple bastard Thanos shakes himself awake and decides to begin tossing out punches we're all fucked if we aren't ready!" He looked at Robb and scoffed. "You're lookin' in the wrong, direction, boy! Need ta look North!"
Robb's father had always told him that the mark of a great ruler was how he handled himself in the most stressful of situations. Anyone could seem wise and fair and just when all was going right for them and they could quietly compose their thoughts before answered. When there was no pressure to speak and one would compose themselves and consider all the options. But the truly great rulers were the ones who found themselves suddenly in a situation beyond their control or where everything had been shaken and changed and managed to do what was right. "You won't know what kind of man you are until you find yourself living through that," his father had told them. In the Whispering Woods Robb had found what kind of leader he was to soldiers.
Facing his grandfather returned to live and in command of the legendary Children of the Forest… Robb found out what kind of leader he was to his people.
"Then what would you suggest we do?" he demanded, stepping forward. He didn't care that this was his grandfather who had ruled the North far longer than he or his father ever had; the man would not belittle his people. "March on the Wall? What men we have that aren't protecting us from Lannister assaults are tending their fields and gathering food for the winter. It will do us no good if we repel the others only to starve all the same!" He shook his head. "I am not against what you are suggesting but I want to know how we can actually do it."
Yondu considered him for a moment… before he smiled, nodding his head and pointing at him several times. "That right there? That's Ned talkin'. Seems like Jon Arryn did for him what I could never do with Brandon!" Yondu leapt down from the crate and walked over to Robb, clapping him on the shoulder. "No, we don't send forces marching… even if we could spare them they would be of little help for what we need to do. Smaller numbers are needed for this."
"What do you have in mind?" Robb asked as they made for the castle, much of the crowd pulling back and breaking up when it became clear that their part in the conversation was over. Robb motioned for Roslin to join him, his wife moving to stand by his side while Rickon and the rest of his group trailed behind with Ser Rodrik and Maester Luwin.
"First off need to be proper about this." Yondu smiled as he stopped walking and held out his hand, taking Roslin's and giving it a kiss. "My lady. You will make a find Lady of the North, be it as the companion to a Warden of the North or a Queen."
"You are a charmer," Roslin stated.
"I didn't get my wife purely because she liked my winning smile." He flashed a crooked-tooth grin before continuing on. "It's good you are standing with him. Robb here will need ya. The Starks always need a woman to keep us in line… probably why our daughters are always such hellions; never have a sensible woman to tell them what to do. They need someone cunning and smart. Tell me, you ever punch a man in the face or kick him in the balls?"
Roslin didn't even hesitate. "I have and will again."
"Then know I say this with all the compliments in the world: you are a bitch and that is just what every Stark needs. We don't do well with meek flowers. A wolf needs his bitch to snap at his throat and keep him in line. Remember that."
"You truly did mean what you said," Robb asked, interrupting. "Arya and Sansa are alive?"
"Well Sansa that is a touch debatable, depending on your definition of alive." Yondu scratched his chin. "Her soul is in Lady's body and she is currently racing back North. You'd be wise ta tell everyone not to go shooting any direwolves as it wouldn't be good at all if she escaped the Night's Queen just to end up a pin cushion."
Robb swallowed at that.
Roslin though spoke up and asked the question that needed to be asked. "How do we get her out of Lady's body then? I assume you know how she ended up in it."
"She did it herself. Smart girl, though took her a while to get over her Tully stupidity." He huffed. "Eh, I'm one to talk! Should have never meddled with Southern affairs myself. Got me burned for my trouble!" He huffed at that. "But that don't matter either," Yondu told him.
"How… how can you even say that?" Robb demanded. Yondu moved to scold him for taking such a tone with him but Robb smacked away the finger his grandfather jabbed in his face, eyes narrowed and face hard. "My sister is trapped in the body of a direwolf… that is all that matters!"
"The Others are gathering. Working on something… wicked." Yondu shook his head. "Your sister is safer right now than any of us."
"Working on what?" Roslin asked, moving to stand between Robb and Yondu, trying to calm things down.
That made the leader of the Children shake his head. "I don't know. I tried to look but whenever I did… something blocked me. Clouded my vision. I can see Arya all the way in Braavos-" Robb choked out a "WHAT?!" but Yondu continued on, "-but I can't see anything around the Wall. The Old Gods are being silent about it too but they rarely talk anyway."
Robb looked towards the Guardians who all were rather startled by that admission. "I'm guessing that's not normal?"
"Not in the slightest," Gamora stated. "Until we arrived we were able to see much of what our enemies were doing. They didn't want us to see but… we found ways." She looked towards Yondu. "Nothing?"
"Nothing," he admitted gruffly. "Just a purple haze. And what really worries me is that the center of it?" His voice grew softer, as if he were embarrassed. Perhaps he was. "The center wasn't an Other. It was a thrall."
Robb looked to the others and it was, of all of them, Drax who answered. "Humans that are given power by the Others, to serve them."
"…fuck," Robb muttered. "Who would be stupid enough to follow the Others?"
"Who would follow the Lannisters? Aerys? Maegor? Every other madman that ever lived?" Ser Rodrik grumped. "There is always some fool that thinks they can be the ones that can ride the darkness and survive."
Yondu nodded at that. "Whoever this is though, they are different. They are doing something and we need to make sure it doesn't happen." He glanced at the Guardians. "We're headed past the Wall."
"About damn time!" Rocket declared with a grin. "I was afraid we'd all get soft waitin' for the war to come to us."
"You sure about this, Yondu?" Rickon asked. "No other course of action?"
"None at the moment. We need to lay of the land. Worst case we'll serve as a distraction, help Bran with what he needs to do."
"What does Bran need to do?" Robb asked, getting annoyed that his grandfather kept dropping hints about his siblings but not actually telling him about them.
Yondu though was already moving towards the Keep. "Don't you worry about him. He has a role to play in this and its different from ours. Just like Arya. Just like Jon down in King's Landing. Just like Jaime Lannister and the Old Gods. You try and interfere and you'll only cost him time he doesn't actually have."
"And what am I supposed to tell Father when he returns here? That you are all alive but had to race up North past the Wall and Bran is also heading North but you aren't going to retrieve him?"
"I am Groot," the living weirwood declared.
"Yeah, I think that would be a dumb thing to say. Too wordy." Rocket shrugged.
"Don't matter as you and the ladywife won't be here to greet'em!" Yondu called out. "Cause you're comin' with us, boy!"
"What?" Robb exclaimed. "No… no I'm not!"
"Yeah, ya are!" Yondu called out. "Ser Rodrik, ya deal with my son, alright? Let him know I'm handlin' things. I'm takin' the family on a little trip up North."
Robb looked around, hoping to find someone who would speak up, would say this was madness. But Ser Rodrik had been cowed by the return of his liege lord and thus had begun to bark orders at the guards who quickly hopped to obey. Maester Luwin had been called over by Gamora who was asking for all the maps he had. Drax was barking that they'd need food and supplies while Rocket and Groot were debating about what kind of weapons to bring.
"This… this is madness," he sputtered.
"It is," Roslin agreed. "We can discuss it as we pack. Come Grey Wind."
Robb blinked, it taking a moment for him to register just what his wife had said… before he gave chase, trying desperately to convince her that even if he had to go there was no way he was taking HER across the Wall into the Land of Always Winter.
And he'd keep arguing it even a day later as Roslin sat in Rickon's horseless wagon next to him, Winterfell disappearing rapidly behind them.
