298 AC

Edwyle Stark

Tyrion Lannister was a sarcastic, witty, and informed man. Oh he had naturally been offended at the implied jab at his House's honor, but he knew Lord Tyrion's comment was meant more as a jab about his Lord father. After all, Eddard Stark's honor was known throughout the realm. Regardless, the imp's presence was a nice change of attitude. Though he did not blame him of course, due to his father's absence, Robb barely had enough time to ever join him for sparring, hunting, or to simply enjoy each other's company.

Perhaps stereotypical to House Stark, besides the antics of young Arya, Winterfell was very much devoid of loud japes and other amusing aspects of life. This was not to say that it was devoid of happiness, Robb was quick with smiles and the family shared stories every evening meal, but it was not like the courts of summer of the South. Perhaps it was simply their Northern disposition, but the quick-thinking Lord Tyrion kept him on his feet.

At the half-man's request, instead of immediately riding for Winterfell, their small party rode to inspect one or two of the small holdfasts that surrounded Winterfell. The two closest that could be visited were those belonging to House Mollen and House Tanning. Edwyle should have showed the Lannister the holdfasts of House Cassel and House Poole, but they were on the other side of Winterfell.

"Lord Edwyle, I recognize the name of House Mollen…is a Mollen not among us at this very moment? I was under the impression that they called Winterfell their seat?"

Ed let out a single, not unkind laugh before responding. "And you would not be the first southerner to question this. Listen-"

Edwyle wheeled his horse around to ride right next to the small lord.

"-many families hold small holdfasts all over Winterfell's lands. House Cassel for example originally called Winterfell home, granted a small manse within the walls by my House. However, after centuries, many of these families; Poole, Cassel, Mollen, Tanning, and others, were granted small estates around Winterfell."

"I see." Lord Tyrion's wish to learn was very impressionable and admirable in Edwyle's eyes. "In that case, does this mean that Ser Rodrik Cassel is also the lord of House Cassel."

"…Aye, in a way, yes. Though in reality more so in a way of the main branch. Like most of these houses, those that hold the family's holdfast are more cousins then close family. Ser Rodrik is the head of House Cassel of Winterfell, while a separate lord is the head of the cadet branch of House Cassel."

Lord Tyrion scrunched his face as if trying to sort out all the information. "In that case Lord Edwyle, that would mean that, as many of the senior workers of Winterfell belong to these minor houses, that most are not lords of the entire house, but just the main branch."

"Aye, that's a good way to think of it."

"…Does this cause problems when calling the banners?"

"Nay. Though it is true that those lords of the cadet branches are in fact independent, they all usually answer directly to the main line. For example, though the Master of House Cassel of Westwalls may decide their own fate, often, they write to Ser Rodrik as the Master of House Cassel of Winterfell for direction."

"Sounds easy to follow." Tyrion sarcastically responded.

Instead of taking offense, Edwyle simply chuckled at the response. "I can imagine it to be complex to outsiders, but to us Northerners, it as natural as snowfall."

"Can these lords truly be called lords, if they take their direction from the lord of another house?"

"How is that different than any other house mi' lord? Does House Lannister not take orders from House Baratheon of King's Landing? But to answer, if it is easier, consider these lords acting more as keepers or custodians."

"Ha! If my father heard you say that the look he'd give you would whither even your icy demeaner!" The small lord laughed, though it sounded more at his own father than him.

But enough of this, even if their guests wished to inspect the surrounding lands, it was inappropriate to keep the host lord waiting more than necessary. "Come my lord! We ride for Winterfell!"

They took a slow gallop, he would have preferred a harder pace but with Lord Tyrion's stature, anything faster than a slow gallop was nearly impossible for him to accomplish. He decided to send the captain ahead to prepare Winterfell for the eventual arrival.

"Hallis! Ride hard for Winterfell. Prepare for our arrival and inform my brother of our detour."

"Aye, mi' lord!" The man responded before snapping his reins and taking off faster than a bolt of lightning.

Robb Stark

Hallis Mollen had just recently returned to Winterfell. His brother's notable absence caused some worry. Had they been set on by bandits? Wildings? But it was nothing so drastic. Apparently the little lion lord had wished to inspect the surrounding lands of Winterfell. Perhaps he was being too paranoid, but he couldn't help but suspect that he was doing so as to determine the strength of House Stark.

His only hope against this was the perceived differences between Tyrion and Lord Tywin, a conflict that is known even to the Wall itself. Surely the little lion would not do all this for the father he hated. Regardless, he expected the worse. Robb just hoped that Edwyle was smart enough to see the possibility and only showed weak holdfasts as to confuse the numbers for Tyrion. Probably, Edwyle is far more intelligent than I shall ever be.

Now, he found himself standing inside the inner courtyard of Winterfell. Dacey was to the right of him with young Samsyn in her arms. After Dacey was Arya and Bran. Rickon was currently in the care of maester Luwin. In front of him, rode in two Stark guardsmen followed by his brother and Lord Tyrion, after them, were the little lion's Lannister guards. They reined in their mounts and dismounted from the horses. Walking forward on his two stumped legs, Tyrion Lannister bowed very slightly from the neck.

"Lord Tyrion, be welcome to Winterfell. Please, partake in bread and salt." Before his father's departure, he impressed onto him the importance of guest rights.

A servant stepped forward and offered bread and salt to Lord Tyrion and his guards. Taking the half a loaf of bread, Tyrion tore off some pieces and handed it to his guards before taking a piece for himself, dipping the soft insides of the bread into the salt, he ate from the bread and his guards followed. The troops of House Lannister were very disciplined but even Robb noticed how the guards visibly relaxed after the affair. Guest rights were taken very seriously in the North.

"Many thanks Lord Robb. If it pleases, my men and I have ridden for many days. Would it be so far as to request a warm room to relax in?"

"Of course my lord." He responded very gruffly. After all, he was not Robb Stark at the moment, he was Lord Robb of the House Stark, acting Lord of Winterfell. He made sure to maintain a cold demeaner. Something that did not escape the notice of the little lion.

"Truly, is Winterfell so devoid of joy in the absence of Lady Stark?" The imp asked humorously.

Robb decided to ignore that particular jape. "Hoarfrost here will show you to your chambers. A feast has been prepared for this evening. When it is time, I shall send an escort for you." Hoarfrost was the bastard son of Lord Condon and the baseborn brother of Ser Kyle Condon. Robb appointed Hoarfrost as the Assistant Steward and Butler of Winterfell.

Lord Tyrion noticed his words being ignored and raised his eyebrow slightly before nodding and following the waiting Hoarfrost. Before the feast was to be held, he decided to return to his father's solar and finish up some last pieces of letters before he would call it an end to his day.

Returning to the solar, he was surprised when waiting for him in front of the door was maester Luwin. "Luwin? What can I help you with?"

Reaching into his robes, Luwin gave him a sealed scroll. The was sealed in a deep yellow wax with the crossed longaxes of House Dustin imprinted into the wax.

"A scroll from House Dustin?"

"It appears so Robb."

"What would Lady Barbrey need now?" He sighed exasperatedly. Robb was not ignorant of the feud between his father and Lady Dustin. He had heard the reason why, but sometimes it got in the way of true progress. "Join me for a moment Luwin, I mayhap require your insight." They entered the solar and he sat behind the desk.

Lord Robb Stark

Acting Lord of Winterfell

My lord, I write to you to humbly request that Orvyn Dustin be sent to Winterfell to foster. To learn of how to be a true Northman from the great House Stark.

Lady Barbrey Dustin

Rightful Lady of House Dustin and Barrowton

He handed the letter to Luwin as he sat back and tried to think back. Why did that name sound so familiar? "Who in the gods name is Orvyn Dustin?"

Luwin had finished reading the very blunt letter. "If I remember correctly, I believe him to be the distant cousin of the late Lord Willam Dustin. I believe your Lord father confirmed him as the heir to Barrowton prior to your wedding to Lady Dacey."

Of course! I remember now. From what he remembered nearly a year ago, Orvyn Dustin was a young man, close to Bran or Arya's age. But where did this come from?

"Why would Lady Barbrey act on this now? I know that she has always felt threatened by any potential heirs."

Luwin leaned side to side on his chair before answering. "Perhaps her father has grown tired of the feud between this liege lord and his daughter. Maybe he forced her begin rebuilding the bridges between your two houses."

Robb was deep in thought. "Aye…perhaps…but she might be testing the waters. After all, I have expected some of the lords to be pushy, to test my resolve in the absence of my father."

"There is always the possibility. But besides House Bolton and House Dustin, House Ryswell is currently a pariah within the North. Unusual 'fore House Ryswell has traditionally held close ties with Winterfell. I suspect that the continued feud has slowed trade and growth for the Rills. Lord Ryswell is a hard man, but also pragmatic; if the source of his House's troubles lay with his daughter, he'd no doubt see to it that it is resolved."

"You make a good point. Yet I am still not fully convinced." Luwin remained silent. "Summon Edwyle for me, will you?"

"At once mi' lord."

Esteemed Conclave of the Citadel

My most learned men, I write to you to request additional manpower in the North. Winterfell is a large castle. Maester Luwin leaves nothing to be desired, a great maester with no equal. But he is stretched too thin.

It is because of this that I ask that you send acolytes or an assistant maester to Winterfell to relieve Luwin of some of his burdens.

Lord Robb Stark

Acting Lord of Winterfell and acting Lord Paramount & Warden of the North

Robb had just finished compiling his letter to the Citadel when his brother and Luwin entered. Without saying a ward, he motioned to the two chairs in front of the desk. They sat silently as he reread his letter once more before putting it down on the desk.

"Ed, thank you for coming. I must ask your advice on a sensitive matter."

"Of course Robb, what is it?"

"It appears that Lady Barbrey Dustin has requested that her heir, one Orvyn Dustin, be fostered here in Winterfell." He handed the letter over to Edwyle to let him read it. "Luwin has proposed that perhaps it is Lord Ryswell's words in Lady Barbrey's hand."

"Luwin makes a good point. If I remember my lessons with Vayon correctly, House Ryswell has begun to suffer recently in terms of trade and Northern loyalty. I wouldn't put it past Lord Rodrik to have reached the end of his rope with his daughter."

"I can't deny that possibility, but I can deny it no more than the possibility that Lady Barbrey seeks to force her heir away. He is a threat to her after all."

"Perhaps, but if she was to do that, it would be smarter for her to send him to another house; Bolton or Manderly, anywhere but Winterfell. You are correct, in the short term it would solve Lady Dustin's problem. But being fostered in Winterfell inherently strengthens the bonds between the two Houses. In the long term, House Dustin would become some of our closest supporters."

"…Very well. If both of you two concur, I will write back to Lady Barbrey and accept her proposal. Perhaps Arya and Bran can make new friends with the young lord." Robb relented. He still suspected an ulterior motive, but with no proof and the disagreements of two of his close advisors, he was forced to back down.

He excused Edwyle and handed Luwin the letter for Oldtown before he too left the solar. As the two left, Hoarfrost knocked and entered the chambers.

"My lord, the feast has been prepared. Shall I fetch for our guests?"

"Yes, please do so. Have my brother Edwyle send for my family."

"Yes, mi' lord."

Tyrion Lannister

He had finally found his comfort, reading a tome he had requested from the great library of Winterfell, when a servant had fetched him for the feast. As he entered the great hall, it was a small affair. Instead of sitting at the high table, it appeared that the young Robb Stark had elected to sit at a low table, where his family could sit on one side, and he and his guards on the other.

It was a simple supper; sitting with Robb Stark was his impressive younger brother, Edwyle. He had yet to reach conclusions about many in the family, but he thought he liked Edwyle. In many ways, he saw his own dream self in the young wolf lord. He was a fierce warrior, but he was much prouder of his scholarly work.

His stature had forced him to use his mind as his weapon, but he'd like to think that had he been born with the legs of a man, he would still utilize his mind like the young Edwyle. His older brother on the other hand was a different case. Robb Stark favored his mother's looks more than his father. But the way he acted and carried himself was all exactly like the honorable Eddard Stark. He was very much obviously trying to follow in his father's steps. He was good at it, very good. But his own father was Tywin Lannister, he knew when men were trying to be something they were not.

They enjoyed the evening, and he shared many stories with the younger Starks, all laughed. He found himself slightly jealous. If only my family was this close. It brought him joy that he was able to ingratiate himself with the wolf pups of House Stark.

He must have been distracted as he had not heard one of the doors open into the chamber.

Then, he saw it.

In walked Ser Rodrik, the master-at-arms for Winterfell. He leaned down to whisper some matter into the ear of Robb Stark. But he wasn't focused on what was said…no, his eyes were on Ser Rodrik's waist. He must have made a face because the table grew quiet. He looked up.

"Apologies, what did you say?"

Robb Stark looked at him oddly. "I said, are you alright? You seem to have focused on something."

He pointed at the dagger attached to the knight's waist. "There, that blade. Where did you get it?"

The entire Stark household looked at him suspiciously. Edwyle visibly laid his hand on his sword's pommel. Robb Stark motioned for the dagger; Ser Rodrik gave it to him.

"This? This is the blade that was used by an assassin in an attempt to take the life of my brother." Gone were the smiles around the table. He saw Ser Rodrik motion and he heard the movements of some guards behind him. His own tensed.

Robb Stark looked right into his eyes. "How do you know of this blade?"

Tyrion, having grown up with the withering looks from his father, looked right back into Robb Stark's eyes.

"Oh, I know that blade very well. That blade belongs to the Master of Coin, Petyr Baelish."

*And that wraps up that chapter! What kinds of games is Barbrey Dustin playing? And the dagger!? Oh, we'll see that the Game of (the) Throne will rapdiy increase in pace. After all...the Northmen are not known for patience and beating around the bush!

**I am aware that House Condon (at least Ser Kyle Condon) is sworn to House Cerwyn. That being said, as Castle Cerwyn is only half a day's ride from Winterfell, once can safely assume that the seat of House Condon is fairly close to Winterfell as well.