Something had changed in the air. What had changed he could not say. The times where he closed his eyes and became one with Grey Wind where his senses were heightened to a level no human would ever experience. Almost tingling in his bones it was so strong, but how could he ever say such words aloud? That was asking to be labelled mad which was the last thing he needed. The Northern Lord's were following him as their Paramount. A position he only had because the Lannister cunt that sat the Iron Throne had ordered his fathers head be taken.
Treason they said it was. That his father was plotting to overthrow him and seize the throne for himself. Words in the wind, likely said as a way to try and weasel out of the trap he had been captured in. His father had never even wanted to come south in the first place, so why would he wish to stage a coup so he could remain in the south? It didn't make any sense to him or to anyone who knew his father well. But it had been done, his father breathed no more and he had become Lord of Winterfell. And Robb was not going to stop until he had gotten revenge for the injustice done to House Stark.
People said the Stark's of Winterfell had the blood of wolves flowing in their veins which is what allowed them to bond with direwolves. Even if they had not been seen below the Wall in hundreds of years. Texts remained from their ancestors in a tongue few spoke fluently but one his father had made sure he and all of his siblings knew. Even Jon, his bastard half-brother who was currently at the Wall as a sworn brother. Or had he sworn his oaths yet? That was difficult to tell as the Night's Watch were sworn to absolute neutrality no matter what happened, and they had to swear away their families and titles in doing so.
Perhaps he could do something there, send a raven to find out if he had. If he hadn't, he could place him somewhere where he would be of use. His mother wouldn't like it, she'd never forgiven his father for bringing the one thing that sullied their marriage into their home and had him treated like his trueborn siblings. The North was not the south though, in the North bastards were not looked down on anywhere near as badly as they were in the south. Granted, they were still looked down on, but they were treated with a bit more respect. Something his mother had never quite gotten the hang of when she had come to Winterfell all those years ago.
Gods, what he would do to be in the halls of Winterfell right now. Running after his brothers, mussing up Arya's hair, making faces at Sansa when no one was looking which she would always make back when her Septa wasn't looking on. Grey Wind was beside him now, reaching down to bury his fingers in the soft fur and enjoying the heat of his body against his palm.
"Are we still set to follow the plan, my Lord?"
That was still a strange thing to hear. My Lord. For his whole life his father had been the Lord but now the title was his. A title he wasn't sure he was ready for, but one the world had thrown at him anyway so he would take it on the chin.
"We are indeed, Lord Umber."
A massive grin came onto the mans face at this. Marching through the night towards Riverrun to relieve his mother's home from the siege lain by Ser Jaime Lannister. A man he knew little, but in the little time he had known him decided he hated him with every fibre in his body. Even hearing that cursed name ignited a fire deep within his body and it was fit to burst any moment. But Robb would not allow that. No, he would channel it into the coming fight.
"Robb!"
He snapped his head around to be met with his mother who was as pale as fresh snow. Seeing she was handing over a raven scroll which he took before stopping momentarily.
"This is Old Tongue."
"Aye, it is. It's from Sansa."
His eyes widened again. They'd received a raven from Sansa before, with the Queen's words on them as his mother had stated. Yet the Old Tongue was only ever spoken in the North and beyond the Wall. As far as he knew, no one in the south knew a word of the language which meant this was likely a true letter from his little sister.
"I shall give you leave, my Lord."
He nodded to Lord Umber as he made his way back to his own tent with his mother close behind him. Seeing there was almost an air of glee around her but there was no denying she was troubled too at what she had read.
"I didn't know you understood Old Tongue, mother."
"Your father ensured I understood it enough when we first got married. I'm not fluent by any means but I can stumble through it."
That made sense, Robb supposed. Sitting down once inside the tent next to the fire to get some heat into his body from the biting air of winter outside. Unravelling the scroll and eyeing the words there.
Nuair a thuiteas an sneachda agus na gaothan geala a' sèideadh, bidh am madadh-allaidh singilte a' bàsachadh agus mairidh am paca beò. Chaill an leòmhann le spìcean agus ruith am madadh-allaidh an-asgaidh. Tha athair air a dhìoghaltas. (When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies and the pack survives. The lion lost to spikes and the wolf runs free. Father has been avenged.)
Father has been avenged.
Father has been avenged.
Father has been avenged.
That sentence he read over and over again, trying to figure out what was meant by such a thing before realisation dawned on him as he eyes his mother in shock.
"Sansa- "
"Killed Joffrey. Threw him onto the spikes around Maegor's Holdfast guessing by her words."
Sansa. Sweet Sansa. The sister who screamed if she so much as saw a tiny spider had bloodied her hands and killed the King. As this sunk in, Robb threw his head back and let out a raucous laugh, full of joy over such a thing. And she had gotten free! How she had done so he would find out at another time, but knowing that mad bastard no longer had the throne which destabilised the Lannister's massively was music to his ears. Such sweet music, the kind he could fall asleep to it was so lovely.
"I would love to see the Queen's face."
His mother gave him a look at such a thing but her face broke into a smile too which confirmed she wished to see the same.
"We will have to let people know- "
"No Robb. The less people who know the safer your sister is. Arya is still in the capital, do you want her to be hurt because of what Sansa done?"
No, he did not. Sighing deeply as he thought it all through. The battlefield was no place for a girl. Aye, she had bloodied her hands, but that did not mean she should be on the field of battle.
"I'll have her sent to Winterfell the moment she joins us again. The battlefield is no place for her."
"Robb, I'm not losing her- "
"You won't. I'm a man grown now, mother, and I am Lord of Winterfell. I can handle myself. You will travel with Sansa to Winterfell to be with Bran and Rickon again."
She was about to retort but decided not to do so. How long they remained in his tent was unknown to him, only being brought out of it when Lord Howland walked inside. Immediately throwing the parchment into the fire and watching the words burn away into nothing. Words in the wind. Words burned permanently into his brain alongside his joy.
"The Lord's have gathered for a war meeting, Lord Stark."
"I shall join shortly, Lord Reed." The Crannogman bowed his head and left the tent.
"Mother, I know you don't wish to let me out of your sight, but they need you. Bran is ten and Rickon is six. They'll be lonely and terrified."
There was a small smile there, one of understanding, but he didn't remain for much longer as he left to meet up with the remaining Lord's. They needed to know what had happened but he remembered his mothers warning. Don't tell anyone it was Sansa who done so.
"Young Wolf! Young Wolf!"
Something they had taken to chanting often since he had won his first battle and proving himself despite his young years.
"Word has been received from the capital, word which brings me great pleasure. Joffrey Waters is dead!"
A loud cheer erupted as the words sunk in, seeing Lord Umber toasting his eldest son across the table and drinking heavily from his pitcher of ale.
"Serves the wretch right. Justice for Lord Eddard!"
This time, the shouts weren't as loud. It was common knowledge his father was well loved throughout the North, and his death had hit them all hard.
"Now only a babe sits the Iron Throne. Oh the Old Lion will be fit to burst in anger at such a thing."
Oh he would be, no one could deny that statement. Robb had never met Lord Tywin, but he had met his children and that was enough time spent with the golden haired shits to last a lifetime. The Queen turning her nose up at almost everything whilst she was in Winterfell, her twin brother always looking for a sparring contest to further boost his already enormous ego, then there was the stunted sibling. The scorned sibling. He hadn't spoken to him much, but he had ordered Bran be killed and that was something he was never going to stand for. No, the Lannister's would pay in blood and he was not going to stop until his entire body dripped in blood of the lion.
"Ser Jaime is hosting a siege of Riverrun as we speak. Scouts have confirmed there are three camps but he is based at the easternmost one. We will take that camp first and make sure he is taken alive. I want to look Lord Tywin in the eye and watch as he has to admit his precious son is nothing but a hostage."
Cheers rung out again as they planned the coming battle in detail. Two thousand had already been sent to occupy the Old Lion so no reinforcements would come, a further few hundred were being sent to occupy the smaller two camps to give them more time. His mother coming to wish him luck as he rode off with the army towards the camps. The sun was rising when they rode back, but to say he was drunk on delight was an understatement. His mother waiting for him at the brow of the hill as he came forth with their new hostage. Not even having time to put on any armour the attack had been such a success which only made the whole situation even more amusing.
"Uncle, prepare somewhere for the Kingslayer to remain."
A few guards came over then to take him away, not even attempting to fight back because he was that embarrassed at being beaten by someone as young as Robb. Feeling a clasp on the shoulder from someone but paying no mind as to who it was as he began walking through the camp again. Many already getting into their cups over the swift victory which only added a further thorn in their enemies feet. A thorn that with luck would grow. It was a good hour later his uncle came over to alert them that Ser Jaime had been imprisoned and the first thing he done was having Grey Wind come with him. Wanting to see his face as the last time he had seen his wolf he had laughed over how small he was. But he wasn't small anymore. Whilst still growing, he was already of a size with a standard wolf, and the sight was more than imposing.
"Lord of Winterfell, eh? I would've expected for you to have sent me to a castle but instead you throw me into this makeshift dungeon? I find that most strange, if anything, I'd think you'd grown fond of me Robb Stark."
His lip curled in a little but he refused to let it be seen.
"If I left you with one of my bannermen, your father would know in a fortnight. They would receive a raven with a message, release my son and you'll be rich beyond your dreams. Refuse and your House will be reduced to root and stem."
"You don't trust your men is what you mean?"
"I trust them with my life, but I do not trust them with yours."
Deep in those green eyes there was something there. Almost like there was a shred of respect but it was gone as quickly as it arrived.
"What's wrong? Don't like being seen as a boy? Are you insulted?"
Grey Wind sensed his irritation as a long deep growl emanated from deep within. Walking from out of the shadows until his snout was directly in front of Jaime's face. Teeth snarling and preparing to snap should the order be given.
"You insult yourself Kingslayer, you've been defeated by a boy, held captive by a boy, and perhaps you'll be killed by a boy."
"A raven was received from the capital this morning. Your nephew is dead, Ser Jaime. Found on the spikes of Maegor's Holdfast."
Robb enjoyed the shock on his face but it was gone a moment later.
"If that is true my nephew Prince Tommen is the rightful King. A young boy, how convenient it is for Lord Stannis- "
"My father was executed on a false claim by Joffrey, and now Joffrey no longer lives to breathe another word. It's a wonderful thing, the taste of justice. But it is not whole justice, and I will not stop until I get full justice. I will find out the truth my father died for, and when I do, I will ensure the name Lannister becomes nothing but ash and bone. Sleep tight Ser Jaime, Grey Wind here does make an excellent companion in the night."
Robb took great joy in the way his face whitened at the implication, still staring the wolf down and refusing to break eye contact as he left to join his men. They'd won a large victory, but the war was far from over. He meant what he said. The pack survives, and the wolves would not sit still until lions were gone of this world.