ROBB I

A bright ray of light through his darkened window and the distant baying of hounds.

These were the first things that Robb Stark, heir to Winterfell and the North, noticed upon awakening in his bedchamber in the Great Keep in Winterfell. He rolled over, expecting to see the soft glow of the morning streaming in, but immediately noticed this was not the case. Instead, it seemed to Robb that it was the hour of the wolf, and dawn should not be here for some hours. Curious, he pulled the furs off of himself and slowly rose from his bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes all the while.

Who in the Seven Hells is waving around a torch like that at this hour? Robb frowned now, he had intended to spar with Jon in the yard the following morning, it would hardly do to have him stumble about like a drunkard for lack of sleep. All the same, he hastily pulled on his breeches and a roughspun shirt, slipping into a pair of stockings and well worn leather boots. He slowly made his way to the window, careful not to trip in the dim light.

With a quiet click he threw open the window, feeling the cool air of late summer spill into his bedchamber. Winterfell he could see in the moonlight was dark and foreboding, jutting spires and turrets half-seen in the dark of earliest morning. To his instant confusion, he could not spot anyone in the courtyard below with a torch or lighting a bonfire, only a few scattered night guardsmen, who seemed to be looking up and pointing at something in the sky.

Robb craned his neck, trying to get a glimpse at what they were staring at, but found whatever it was to be blocked by the rest of the Great Keep, apparently on the other side of the building. Robb groaned and turned towards the door, making his way across the dark ironwood floor, which gave away not even a creak as his feet gently pattered upon it. As he pulled open the door and moved into the equally dark hallway, he narrowly avoided colliding with a shadowed figure making its own way down the hall

"Gods Robb, watch where you're walking! I almost set you on fire!"

Robb now sighted the candle that was aglow in the darkly clothed hands of the figure in the hall. He could see its owner better too, with its long face and solemn look. In the dark, the dark brown hair and deep grey eyes both appeared almost black, the mouth turned into what was almost a grimace, but not quite.

"Well Jon, perhaps you should not be skulking outside my bedchamber in the dead of night then. Fully clothed, no less! Either you've found yourself a girl to meet with away from prying eyes, or you're just as curious as I am to see what that light was, Snow"

Robb's auburn eyebrow raised in amusement, his Tully blue eyes shining with silent laughter as Jon Snow spluttered in indignation, clapping his half-brother on the shoulder and sidling into the hallway, taking the candle from Jon's hand

"Aye, well come on then, before we miss...whatever it is!" Robb hurried down the hall, twin footfalls echoing through the torchlit stone hallway of the dormitory area of the Keep evidence that his brother was right behind him. Through twists and turns they hurried, past the rooms of their presumably sleeping siblings, slowing to a crawl when sneaking past the quarters of the Lady of Winterfell, neither wanting to rouse the ire of either Lord or Lady Stark with their midnight antics.

Fortunately, no guards were posted within the Keep this night, and Gage would not be waking with the rest of the cooks to prepare the breaking of fast for some hours, so Robb and Jon discreetly made their escape through a side door of the Keep, rather than risking discovery by going through the main door. Less fortunately, this also meant that they exited the Keep on the same side of the building as their own rooms, and thus could still not spot what had generated the commotion. Glancing about, Robb could not see the guardsmen he had seen before, nor anyone for that matter. A frigid breeze blew suddenly, and Robb shivered, now regretting not having brought a cloak with him in his haste.

Robb turned towards Jon then, rubbing his chin with a contemplative look on his face. "If I remember correctly, Theon is out at the brothel in Wintertown, else he would've probably woken us up first"

Jon snorted and rolled his eyes. Theon Greyjoy and his belligerent attitude towards Jon was hardly his favorite subject, regardless of how much Robb looked up to the cocky youth. On the rare occasions the Ward of Winterfell managed to convince the Heir of Winterfell to join him on a covert expedition to an inn in Wintertown, he made a point of gloating to Jon's face that he was not invited. Robb always had the grace to look guilty then, but never enough to do something about it.

Robb opened his mouth, likely about to make another astute proclamation when he was interrupted by a scuffle from above them, and the sounds of cloth scraping on stone. Jon rose the candle and squinted at a spot of wall that was too far away for the candlelight to reveal the culprit. Furthermore, in the dark of night the candle dimmed their night vision, so that they could barely see outside the corona of light thrown off by the small fire. As though aware of them noticing it, the sound ceased immediately.

Robb watched as Jon quirked an eyebrow suspiciously, looking as though he were considering something. Suddenly, a look of realization struck him, and he grinned.

Jon turned to Robb, still grinning, and stated very clearly and loudly, "A truly amazing discovery, Robb, one that is sure to make us into heroes worthy of the songs! But you must be certain not to tell Bran!"

Robb stared at Jon blankly, not understanding, until finally he realized what he was doing. Clever bastard, he thought fondly.

Now Robb spoke, just as clearly and loudly, "To be certain, brother, for what we have found could just possibly make him into the finest knight the world has ever seen, putting even the likes of Arthur Dayne and Aemon the Dragonknight to shame! We must hoard this discovery for ourselves!"

As both boys snickered and smiled over their cleverness, Robb heard a sigh, and then a thump like something falling from a distance. Slowly a short figure approached their small illuminated area. Even in the flickering candlelight, Robb could see auburn hair like his own, could see the light reflected from the bright blue eyes like his own. Eyes that were narrowed angrily at him and Jon.

A voice irately huffed, "You two think you're so smart, don't you?" Brandon Stark stood with his arms crossed, his displeased expression reminding Robb of Mother when she was angry, or perhaps more in this case like Sansa when she was being petulant over something or another that Arya had done.

Jon crossed his arms right back and responded gravely, "Well, perhaps you should have been more quiet. Anyways, I'm sure that your lady mother wouldn't be very happy to hear that you've taken to climbing the walls in the dead of night, too. She worries enough about your climbing as is."

Bran had the decency to look temporarily guilty, but quickly rallied and defiantly stuck out his lower lip, his eyes glowing with boyish bravado.

"Well, I don't think she'd be happy to hear you and Robb have been sneaking around at night, either!"

Robb again suppressed a laugh at his brothers cheekiness. Bran had always been a clever one. He stepped forward towards Bran, kneeling and putting his hands on his younger brothers shoulders. For a boy of seven namedays, he was growing fast. Father always said that Bran would likely be the tallest of the Stark children once he was fully grown, a fact that Bran took no small amount of pride in.

Robb mustered the most serious voice a boy of ten and four could muster and said to Bran, "Do you know why we're out here tonight?"

His brows furrowed, Bran hesitated before responding. "I...saw something outside of my window, a bright light or something. I looked through a hole in my door and saw you and Jon walking down the hall. I decided to climb down the wall to follow you"

Jon cocked his head to the side and inquired, "So you decided to climb down instead of just walking?"

Bran stared at him like he had just spoken nonsense. "Why wouldn't I?" He cast his gaze down, and murmured now, "Anyway, I thought that it might be an enemy or bandits. I thought I should help you two, since I'm nearly a man grown. Father says so!"

Robb chuckled at this, for Father had always been fond of attempting to compel his sons to act responsibly by telling them they were nearly a man grown, even if they were nothing of the sort. He had even started it with Rickon, who was all of 3 namedays old. Sometimes Robb secretly envied Jon, for when he was a man grown he would not have any of the responsibility that Robb would have to bear. But in those moments he always felt guilty for his envy, for he had no doubt in his mind Jon would bear all the responsibility in the world without so much as a single complaint if it meant he could be Jon Stark of Winterfell, and not Jon Snow the Bastard.

"Well, we wouldn't want to have you desert your duty, would we? Try to keep up."

Bran rolled his eyes at that.

"You're the slow ones, not me! Standing here chatting in the dark."

Robb stood, and sharing an amused glance with Jon, turned about started walking around the Great Keep, Bran hurrying to follow them. Now in the open, he could truly see what a magnificent night it was. Chilly, yes, but the stars shone brilliantly. From here on the south side of the Great Keep, he could see the King's Crown high in the sky, next to the Crone's Lantern and the Moonmaid. A brisk breeze rustled the leaves on the oak's, whistling as it rushed through the gaps created by the seven fine stone pillars that held up the small sept in the centre of the lawn. Father had built that sept just for Mother, so that her gods would have a place in her home. Sansa had always been the one to sigh and simper over that kind reminder of the deep and abiding love his parents held for one another, but Robb thought the sentiment sweet as well. Privately, of course.

"Robb! Over here!"

Robb was pulled from his contemplation by Jon's urgent call. Frowning, he noticed that Jon and Bran had already crossed across the lawn and under the bridge that led to the main courtyard. Robb quickened his pace, passing under the shadow and entering the courtyard, now surrounded on all sides by the great towers of his home. Jon and Bran stood near the west wall of the Keep, heads held high. Humorously both boys mouths were agape, as they stared at something high in the sky. Next to them stood the guardsmen, who Robb could now see were Fat Tom and Hallis Mollen, similarly transfixed. Robb advanced forward, finally passing the shadow of the Great Keep and finding his view of the sky completely unobstructed.

His mouth fell open too, then.

There in the sky burned the brightest star he had ever seen, glorious and radiant. He remembered tales told when he was only a young lad, tales of mighty portents and omens of the coming of great events. He remembered too the lessons of Maester Luwin, and his lessons on comets and heavenly bodies, lessons that Jon had always absorbed more readily than Robb himself, but still remembered. Neither came remotely close to preparing him for this. It shined nearly as bright as the sun, glowing hues of gold, red, white, and gold again. It was so bright as to be nearly painful to behold, blinding him with its majesty. But this was not the strangest thing about the star, there was something else.

This star burned with two tails.

Robb's mouth worked, but no words emerged, for before he could make them, it happened

A titanic crack, like a thunderbolt exploding right next to his ear, and a tremendous boom rolled through the air. After a few seconds, a titanic gust of wind blew into them from the north, from the object. Robb stumbled backwards as though struck physically, and he saw that Bran and Jon did the same, as well as Fat Tom and Hal. He breathed in deeply, attempting to regain his bearings as his ears rang with the aftereffects.

"By the Old Gods and the New…"

Robb looked up, saw what Jon referred to now. He saw the star no longer hung there, high in the sky. Instead, a beam of the purest white light hung there, pointing downwards. Pointing to something to the north of Winterfell, somewhere in the Wolfswood.

Alarm bells across the castle grounds pierced the early morning silence, and even from the courtyard the horses could be heard screaming and neighing, battering their stalls in the stables in an attempt to get free. From the distant forest the howling of wolves was heard, mournful and low.

Jon and Robb shared a brief glance, and were off in a sprint back towards the Great Keep, Bran attempting to keep pace with his shorter legs behind them. Father no doubt had heard the noise, he would know what to do.

The Lord of Winterfell would know what to do.

AUTHORS NOTE: This chapter, chronologically speaking, takes place after chapter 1, and maybe chapter 3.