Robb's POV
They had been on the ship for 6 days now and were nearing White Harbour; he could just see it in the distance as he stood on the bow of the ship. He couldn't believe what had happened, his 2 younger brothers missing, his mother grievously wounded or dead for all they know, as they had had no communication from Winterfell since leaving King's landing. They had stopped in Gulltown for a few hours, gathering news from the Vale, as they had heard nothing since Catelyn had left the Vale almost a year ago now.
There Ser Robar Royce of the Kingsguard and 50 men as an escort disembarked to deliver a message to Lady Lysa of the Vale and ask her and her son plus the Lords of the Vale to journey to King's Landing to swear fealty, as none of the ravens they had sent had been returned, in the message it offered to return the title of Warden of the East to Robert Arryn, on the condition of fealty appointing a Nestor Royce as castellan to rule to Robert's name until he came of age. They had also sent a small force of 20 men to Petyr Baeslish's seat at the fingers, to arrest him, if he still resides there.
As he stood on the bow, staring into the distance, he could see Seal Rock approaching through the mist: a hand brushed him on the shoulder and up his neck, turning around he saw his betrothed, standing there in all her beauty.
"Hello there handsome," blushed Roslin, grabbing his hand and holding it in her own. They had grown much closer over the past months, starting with the death of Theon. In kings landing they had taken long walks in the godswoods and along the walls of the Red keep. Again he had sort comfort in her arms and eventually between her legs, when the news came from Winterfell. He had felt ashamed when he had realised what he had done but she hadn't been angry about him taking her maidenhood before they were married. It had already been agreed with Lord Frey that they would get married in Winterfell, before he and his father left to lead the Northern army against the Iron Islanders and find Rickon and Bran, if Ser Rodrik hadn't managed it already.
"Roslin, my luv, I'm sorry I didn't wake you, you were too beautiful lying in the bed, and I thought you would need your rest, we have about a week's march from White Harbour to Winterfell, where we will be married, then I must once again go to war."
"Must you, let your father lead, you have surely earned your rest, after leading the main Northern host to obliterate more than half of the Lannister army, you passed the impassable Golden Tooth and was knighted by the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. You deserve rest," his betrothed said sincerely looking at him with her puppy dog eyes.
"So do most of the Northmen, how can I ask them to fight, put their lives on the line, if I am not willing to fight myself, I am heir to Winterfell, knight of the realm, I will do my duty to my father, the King, The North and to the entire realm," he instead, wondering why she was being so insistent
"What of your duty to me and possibly your unborn child," she retorted angrily, turning around to storm off.
He whipped around and grabbed her arm, "Wait what you are with child, our child?" he asked happiness coming through to his otherwise stern face.
"Possibly, I expected my moonsblood about the time we left king's landing a week after you first took my maidenhood."
"Roslin, my sweetheart, I must go into battle but I promise you by the old gods and the new ones that I will return to your arms and see the birth of our firstborn." He swore to her, looking deep into her eyes and holding her close.
They had arrived in White harbour shortly after he had received the exciting news they had arrived in white harbour and had stayed the night there while waiting for the remainder of the 2,000 men who had come by ships. He and Roslin had decided to wait to tell people until they were certain and after the wedding. He now rode with his betrothed and small personal guard of young nobles and Knights. They had been riding with the main column the day before but tensions had risen between the Lannisters and other Westerlands taking the black and the many of the knights and nobles whom family members had died in the war some personally killed by the men taking the black.
Ser Harrion Karstark had first started the issues by barging his horse past Jamie Lannister calling him the incestuous kingslayer, and spat at Ser Jamie saying "You deserve to die, you killed my 2 brothers and yet they let you go free just because you killed a man of lesser skill, in the North we follow the old gods not the seven, If I could I would kill you where you stand"
Then Jamie had galloped his horse stopping suddenly sideways right in front of Harrion's horse, making it rear up in fright, Harrion struggled to hold falling into the mud, while the other Lannister men apart from Ser Kevan and Ser lancel, hurled insults at Harrion.
"Northmen can't even stay on their horse."
"Your brothers were unskilled farmers who died undeserving of a warriors death."
"You Northmen only won the won the war due to superior numbers not superior skill."
"Stay in the dirt where you belong."
Ser Harrion had picked himself up from the ground, drawing his sword immediacy and slashing at Ser Jamie's horse narrowly missing it but forcing to rear up but Jamie held on, drawing his sword.
The Westlanders drew their weapons, and the noble Northmen and knights drew theirs, if it hadn't been for he, his father and Ser Kevan Intervening and putting a stop it, more men would have died unnecessarily, just like Theon.
Theon!, his best friend, Dead!
Torrhen Karstark, Dead!
Eddard karstark, Dead!
Daryn Hornwood, Dead!
Halys Hornwood, Dead!
Medger Cerwyn, Stevron Frey, all of Hourse Darry, and many more, not just nobles and knights, but farmers, butchers, peasants; died.
Some died far away from him but others died trying to save him and yet he still lived, why was his life so much more valuable than the thousands of others. How many fathers , brothers, sons, nephews, uncles and husbands weren't returning home. How many more wouldn't make it back from the second Greyjoy Rebellion.
He pondered this as he and his advanced guard continued riding towards Winterfell ahead of the main column away from the 40 or so nobles and knights from the Westerlands taking the black, they were going to make camp at the fork of the White Knife then continue on the next morning and hopefully make it to Winterfell before nightfall tomorrow.
He could still here the muttering of many of the young nobles riding as his guards, many whom thought the King had been to kind on Lannisters and their bannermen, letting most of the ones whom had been captured take the black and the other ones live out their lives. In some ways he agreed with them, they had killed many of their family members and friends but then he remembered who he was.
He was Lord Eddard's son!
The son of an honourable man, who had taught him to be true, honourable, just and fair, they couldn't kill everyone whom had fought, for that could cause another rebellion. As he continued thinking on this, noise suddenly broke through is train of thought as he saw an arrow fly pass him narrowing missing him. More screams pierced his ears as men ran out from the tree hurling axes and knocking many of his 40 strong guards to the ground. He drew his sword, circling his horse to defend his lady. He called to Dacey Mormont, whom he saw plunging an axe into the skull of one of the men and Se Olyvar; his former squire whom had accompanied them north charging at an approaching raider and slashing him in the skull
"Get Lady Roslin to safety and bring help from the main force. I don't know who these men are but they are well trained," he yelled to her, over the clash of his sword as he cut down another foot solider. Then more men this time on horse but less than before came riding out. They were now outnumbered but still fighting. Himself, Ser Owen Norrey, Ser Wendel Manderly,, Ser Donnel Locke, Rickard Ryswell and Ser Harrion Karstark, formed a defensive circle, covering all sides making an impregnable force until a rider who had long dark and dry hair and was rather ugly, with skin pink and blotchy and a broad nose; launched himself from his horse straight at Rickard Ryswell, wielding 2 short swords. The man pushed Rickard from his horse land on top of him, plunging swords straight through his chest, killing him instantly. In anger Robb leapt at him, jumping of his horse and lashing out with his long sword. He wasn't wearing metal plate, only light leather padding and some shoulder chain mail but his opponent wasn't wearing metal plate either. The opponent ducked under Robb's slash and got in close hacking and stabbing with his 2 short swords. He only just managed to move his sword in time to block them, with his opponent so close, he was having trouble manoeuvring his long sword to block and strike. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed the large Smalljon throw one of the raiding party 4 feet, slamming him into a tree, and then turning around to knock another one of his feet with an almighty blow with his great axe.
He focused his eyes on the fight in front of him as his enemy crossing his blade striking from high with strength but he simply blocked the blade with his sword going straight between them. They were now locked together each trying to push the other one off balance, while locked in grip, he saw the his foe's eyes for the first time clearly, they were small, close-set, and oddly pale, like two chips of dirty ice and somehow they seemed oddly familiar.
"Ah you recognise me, don't you, I am the bastard of Bolton, and your father ordered my arrest and my loving father did nothing to prevent it, luckily I had loyalty of my boys here," he jeered, "You fight with skill and honour, Ser Robb," Ramsay laughed mockingly, " But Honour never really helped any one!"
With that Ramsay spit in his face blinding him and throwing him off balance for just a second but it was all Ramsay needed, pushing forward with his sword's against his own long sword, pushing him more off balance, then leaning back to kick him causing him to fall to the ground.
Ramsay then stabbed wildly at him, but he rolled dodging it, the slashed back but Ramsay easily danced out of the way, then jived back stabbing at the ground trying to draw blood. One jab sliced thinly down his right arm, not doing much damage but causing him enough pain to drop his sword in response. Ramsay then used this opening, to stab again going straight through his light padding and into his chest. He screamed in agony clutching his wound, trying to stem the flow of, knowing the end was near; his only regret would be he never got to see his child
"I'll say hi to your father for you," he cackled nastily and raised his swords above his head, as they came down, just as they were about to hit, they didn't. A soldier person with dashing golden hair blurred past, bowling into Ramsay just as he was about to land his killing blow, throwing Ramsay to the ground. That was when he blacked out.
"Robb, Robb can you hear me?" A girls voice sounded through his head, he rolled from side to side , his eyes slowly opening.
"You miss me," he smiled faintly, looking into his betrothed eyes, she leant down and kissed him., then pulled away.
"Don't scare me like that again," she told him half seriously half-jokingly
"I promised you I will always come back to you, didn't I," he grinned, grasping her hand, then he noticed his father come into the tent behind where Roslin was crouching.
"Excuse me, I need to speak to my son," he told Roslin, and she got up, giving him one final peck on the cheek then left.
"Glad to see you're awake," his father said, not showing much emotion, still deadly seriousness.
"What happened to Ramsay Bolton, who saved me?"
"He's dead and it was Ser Jamie Lannister!"
Authors's Note
Hope everyone likes this chapter, I am still waiting for my beta reader to double check it but no contact with her, I will re-upload it when she has the time to beta it. I will be interested to know what people think of the end of this chapter and where they think it may go. Thank you to all how have recently favourited and followed my story. Please read and review