TORRHEN
Winterfell, 298 AC
Torrhen made his way through to the kitchens with two pups bundled up into his furred coat, one had been his own and the other he planned to give to Rickon, though he promised himself that he would care for it until his younger brother was able to, the pup would sooner die if he did not.
"I can even name her?" Arya was excited when they had arrived with the pups, following Robb from the moment they stepped through the gates, it wasn't until Robb laid the pup down upon one of the tables that Arya had the chance to even touch them.
"Of course you can name her." Robb answered "But be careful, she was nibbling at me the entire way back, she is a wild one like you." Torrhen smirked at his comment, before laying out his coat on the ground and placing the two pups on it.
Rickon's pup had blackened fur, which distinguished him from the other pups, and bright green eyes, when the boy followed them all into the Kitchen, he appeared hesitant to even go near them, afraid that they may hurt him, though Torrhen gestured him over towards where he was kneeling "Come, Rickon…he won't bite, I promise."
His younger brother slowly came to sit down upon his knees next to him, and his hand slowly moved towards the top of the pup's head, and after a short while, he soon got over that fear and began to play around with the direwolf on the floor, rolling about on the cold stone, with only one word that left his mouth 'Shaggydog'
"Well…I suppose we can't expect a better name from him." Torrhen added, looking up at Robb, before turning to look towards his own pup "I wonder what I should name you." he wondered, as the pups piercing blue eyes stared back at him, he wondered if they could be seen almost a mile away.
Over the course of the next few moonturns, the pups grew attached to each of the Stark children, and it wasn't long until they stood taller than their hounds, Torrhen snuck his pup from the kennels each night to sleep with him in his room, hating that he would always howl through the night if he did not.
He decided to name him 'Magnar', he did not know much about the old tongue, but from what he had read of the histories and the Wildlings, it stood for the common-word 'Lord' a title he knew would never belong to himself unless father or even Robb saw fitting to give him his own castle, such as Moat Cailin or Sea Dragon's Point, but one was a ruin and the other was land that was said to be worthless, so he thought it would be ironic.
The pup would also frequently sneak out of Torrhen's bed during the middle of the night, and it must have taken hours for him to finally find him and bring him back, even waking up both Robb and Jon to assist him, he was considering to name the pup 'Shadow' for a short while because he was so good at hiding, though his blue eyes were what always caught him eventually.
Robb gave his pup the name of 'Grey Wind', the beast had a thick fur of smoking grey, and yellow eyes, he gave the name due to his fast speed when running, he could beat the entirety of his litter mates due to his lean build when they'd race.
Arya was set on naming her pup Visenya, the sister-wife to Aegon the conqueror and Rider of Vhagar, one of her many heroes, but she soon decided up the name 'Nymeria' who led her Rhoynar across the sea in ten thousand ships and made their home in Dorne, possibly because of the wolf's fierceness and exuberant nature.
Lady was Sansa's pup, and the most delicate of the litter, she had grey fur with golden yellow eyes, and was the smallest of them, Sansa often fed her beneath the table whenever they would all gather in the great hall.
Jon's direwolf pup had frightened Torrhen at least once a day, appearing out of nowhere, moving as silent as a mouse, if not quieter, and had gained the fitting name of 'Ghost' for its fur colour and the fact that he never makes a sound.
The only direwolf to go unnamed was Bran's, who struggled to find a good one for him, Torrhen attempted to help him in this feat, but every name he recommended, Bran would tell him that it was not good enough for a direwolf.
"I wonder what he is like?" Sansa was ecstatic when word reached them that the King would be travelling Winterfell along with the rest of the royal family, she had been obsessed with the Crown Prince, Joffrey, already calling him her knight in golden armour before he had even arrived, Torrhen found it ridiculous, he had no love for the southerners, not that he ever met one except his mother and the septa.
"A brat that can't wield a sword most likely..." Torrhen muttered, sitting besides Rickon as they all ate at the table in the great hall, the comment earning him all t00 familiar glare from Sansa who sat directly opposite, discreetly kicking him under the table "What was that for?" he exclaimed, kicking her back.
"That's enough, Torrhen." their mother, Catelyn Stark and Lady of Winterfell, was swift to put an end to the bickering "I will have you cleaning the kennels for Farlen should it happen again."
"But…" he looked between Sansa and his mother, though received a small grin from his sister that annoyed him, causing him to sigh and shake his head.
"Listen to your mother, lad, Ser Rodrik wants you boys in the courtyard for training, I would hate to have to tell him that you will be accompanying Farlen, you have missed enough lessons as it is." Lord Stark commanded.
"I understand, father." Torrhen replied "Can I speak with Vayon afterwards?" for the past year, Torrhen had been taught by Vayon Poole, the Steward of Winterfell in managing the day-to-day affairs of the castle, which he hadn't expected to like as much as he did.
"I do not understand why you care for matters left to a steward." Robb asked before his father could respond.
"Because we need to know about these things as a great house of the North, brother, of course you would know if you ever paid attention when Maester Luwin was speaking." he bit at his elder brother.
"A man with a sword is a lot more useful than one with a book, brother." Robb responded "You should know that considering how many times I have beaten you in training, I bet Fat Tom is swifter than you." Torrhen had a quick temper, and he was soon to lunge at his older brother.
"Enough both of you!" Lord Stark yelled, it was not often that he broke his silent nature, so the two boys immediately stopped in his presence "Go to Ser Rodrik now, I won't have you be fools while everyone eats, if you are going to fight, you may as well do it while training."
"Ugh…fine." Torrhen grunted, tapping his leg "Come on, Magnar." he said, with a click of his tongue, and the direwolf appeared from underneath the long table, jumping up and grabbing the piece of bacon left on Torrhen's plate before ushering to his side.
Torrhen shoved Robb as they left the Great Hall, he always seemed to butt heads with his elder brother especially, a part of him was slighted that it would be his elder brother that was to gain Winterfell, and not himself, he had so many ideas for the castle and the North entirely but was always ignored due to his age.
Winterfell was a huge, spanning several acres of land and encircled by two massive granite walls, it had everything that a castle needed, a stables, a great hall, library, there was a turret where Maester Luwin could be found near to the kitchens, it even had its own inn near to the guest houses and guard barracks.
There was a squad and round drum tower called the first keep, which was decorated with gargoyles from the foot to the very tip, there were rumours that it was built by the first men thousands of year ago before the rest of Winterfell was built by Brandon the Builder, it is also the tower that Torrhen's brother, Bran, loved to climb as it gave him a good view over the surrounding lands.
They made it to the courtyard and Ser Rodrik was already preparing the area for when the training was to commence, Torrhen spotted Jon and Theon assisting him, so he moved over to where his bastard brother was.
"How's Ghost?" he asked, looking at the large white furred animal lying down on the ground "Is he done with scaring poor Rickon?"
"Scaring you more like." he said, giving him a half smile, they had always been close, each of them shared the same face, same with Arya, unlike the rest of their siblings who took after the looks of Torrhen's mother "why do you look flustered, another argument with Robb?" he observed.
"No one ever listens, Robb doesn't seem to take his position as Heir seriously, at least not as he should." Torrhen let out his frustration "And yet here I am, learning more about northern affairs, listening in all of Maester Luwin's lessons, speaking with Vayon Poole, getting to know our servants, I know more than father knew when he was in my position and uncle Brandon was to be Lord."
"He still has plenty of time to learn." Jon reassured him "Father isn't going anywhere."
"You don't know that, the King would never come North with an entire royal procession for nothing - Jon Arryn is dead, the Hand of the King position is empty, and now he wants our father to replace him, I just know it."
"Over here lads." Ser Rodrik shouted.
"We can talk later." Jon nodded to him, before the boys walked over towards Ser Rodrik.
"Theon, you are being paired with Jon today." he commanded, and Torrhen could see the look on Jon's face, one of boredom at facing the squid he has beaten many times before "Robb, you and Torrhen will be pairing up, try not to kill each other." Torrhen grunted as he went over to grab a blunted tourney sword, along with a wooden shield.
"I don't understand your issue, brother, if you just tell me then we can solve it, you know I hate to see you agitated." Robb explained, as they each took their spots a few feet away from each other.
"First one to three points wins." Rodrik explained "The two who lose will enjoy cleaning out the stables." the man chuckled, along with a few of the household guards.
"It is not something you would understand, Robb." he said, before lunging at his elder brother, who was swift to parry the attack, replying with one his own and smacking the sword against the wooden shield, chipping the upper right edge of it away.
"Allow me to try, atleast."
Torrhen shook his head, remaining silent and in his thoughts, their tourney swords clashed a few times, and Robb even got a hit on Torrhen's shoulder, gaining himself one point, though it wasn't hard enough to do any real damage, maybe a slight bruise.
"Raise your shield up, Torrhen!" Ser Rodrik yelled from the sidelines, tugging at his white whiskers impulsively, as if he couldn't take his hand off the damn things.
"Is it Theon?" Robb questioned, circling Torrhen "If he has said something to you, I can tell him not to do it again, you know I will."
"I am more than capable of defending myself from the squid." he muttered under his breath, shaking his head again "No, it has nothing to do with him." The direwolves were looking on as their masters fought, with Torrhen giving a quick glance to Magnar before lunging at Robb and managing to hit him at his waist "A point to me, we are even."
Torrhen had a knack for blocking out the sound around him, the castle was a loud place, it was why he enjoyed the peaceful nature of the forest, each slash of the blade became numb, every hammer to the anvil became muffled, and all he saw was his target, his own brother, he went out on a flurry, attacking until his bones ached, it was only then that he managed to get another point against Robb, planting him on his arse.
"Two points." Torrhen smirked, it had been the first time he was ever ahead of Robb when training, and there was only a few times he had managed to even get two points against him.
"You are getting better." Robb appeared happy for him, even despite the tension that was currently between them "Though, you will understand I cannot allow you to beat me." he chuckled.
"Well I would hate to hurt that pride of yours, brother." Torrhen added, but Robb would be right, he was the much better swordsman out of the two, and before Torrhen had time respond, Robb's blade slipped under his and jabbed at the boy's wrist, causing his grip to ease and the sword to drop down onto the dirt.
Torrhen sighed "two-on-two." Robb said, flourishing his blade around as he was already prepared to claim victory, after taking a deep breath, Torrhen sliced towards Robb's leg, although his brother was swift, and slithered around him in a breeze, placing the tourney sword at the back of his neck, tapping it gently "three-on-two, better luck next time."
"Jon will have to defeat you next time for me." Torrhen faked a smile, gazing over at Rodrik who seemed rather too busy talking with the guards, Torrhen walked over to the rack and hung up the sword.
"Truce, then?" Robb asked, extending out his arm.
"Sorry.." Torrhen apologised, admitting his faults "I am just worried is all…especially with the chance that father is going south." he gripped tight onto his brother's wrist and they shook their arms.
"Maybe I should be focusing more on Maester Luwin's lessons…but I have you for that, father always says we need to look out for one another, right?" Robb explained "What Lord would I be if I didn't have you by my side?"
"You have Jon." Torrhen shrugged "And Theon.." he said, with a bite in his voice.
"From the way Jon talks, he'll be off to take the black as soon as he can…you know how mother can be with him." he said "And while Theon may be a friend, he is not kin." he patted Torrhen on the shoulder "You worry too much, father might not be going south, the king hasn't even arrived yet."
ONE WEEK LATER…
Torrhen stood between Robb and Sansa as visitors poured through the castle gates, they were three hundred strong, consisting from the lowest of servants, to the highest of knights, the banners of Houses Baratheon and Lannister over their heads, whipping back and forth in the northern wind.
He had heard stories of only one of the riders, Ser Jaime Lannister, twin brother to the queen, and Kingsguard to Robert Baratheon, with hair as bright as beaten gold, he stabbed The Mad King in the back, the one he had sworn to protect, before sitting upon the Iron Throne, watching as he slowly died, forever ending a dynasty of three hundred years, granting him the title of 'Kingslayer'
From what he had heard of the southerners, he had no love for them, despite him being half-tully himself through his mother, they lacked respect and honour, and thought they were better than the northerners, yet they worshipped false gods.
"Where's Arya?" his mother asked, looking at him, but soon turning her focus to Sansa "Sansa, where is your sister?" who simply shrugged, it wasn't long until she soon came running through the crowd with a guards helmet upon her head.
"There she is, mother." Torrhen smirked
"Hey, hey, hey, hey, what are you doing with that on?" Lord Stark asked Arya, taking the helmet from her head and handing it to Ser Rodrik behind as Arya pushed between Bran and Sansa.
Torrhen patted her on the shoulder as she passed him, and they each shared a grin
"Move!" she ordered, shoving them both out of the way as she made space, there was a huge man at the head of the column, flanked by two knights of the Kingsguard in their snow-white cloaks, he was considerably more fat than Torrhen had expected, thinking he was going to see this warrior King that fought to end the Tyranny of the Mad King beside his father, and get justice for what the dragons did to his grandfather, and uncle.
The Royal procession rolled through the courtyard after the King, and Torrhen first laid his eyes upon the crown prince, Joffrey. "Gods, he looks like a great royal prick." he muttered.
"Will you shut up?!" Sansa scolded him for insulting Joffrey, and he noticed the smiles the two of them shared, scoffing and rolling his eyes at the fact.
The entirety of the courtyard soon kneeled and Torrhen's father gave him a stern look as he remained standing, forgetting to kneel, though soon corrected himself.
King Robert vaulted off the back of his warhorse, and soon gestured everyone to rise as he stood in front of his father "Ned!, Ah, it is good to see that frozen face of yours!" the king roared, then looking down at his father as his face got serious "You've got fat!" the man said bluntly, though Torrhen was almost confused as the King did not exactly look slim.
His father looked down towards the King's stomach, raising his eyebrow and soon the courtyard was filled with laughter from the King as the two men embraced one another "Oh, you've not changed at all! Nine whole years, Ned, where have you been? Why haven't I seen you?" the king asked.
"Guarding the North for you, Your Grace." his father responded, he hadn't seen that smile on his face often but he could see that he had a lot of affection for the King "Winterfell is yours."
"Where's the imp?" Arya flew her head back behind Sansa as she looked over to Torrhen. "He is said to be even smaller than me." she giggled.
"Will you both just shut up!" Sansa once again scolded them, making each of them chuckle, though they soon regained their posture as the King made his way down the line of children.
"Who have we here, hm?" the King asked "You must be Robb" he stated, shaking the hand of Torrhen's older brother before coming in front of Torrhen "Gods! Look at you, perhaps we should trade positions, that is the look for a King if I have seen one." he chuckled, moving across to Sansa "My, you're a pretty one, take after your mother when she was young, eh?" the King moved down another step "And you are?"
"Arya." she replied, and as soon as he gave her the look over, he travelled down the line to Bran.
"Eh Lad, show us your muscles." the king said, and Bran pulled his arm up and flexed it, causing a laugh from the man "Hah, you'll be a soldier!"
Soon enough, the others were dismounting as well, with the grooms coming forward for their mounts, the Queen, Cersei Lannister, entered on foot with her younger children, she had ridden in a huge double-decked carriage of oiled oak and gilded metal that were being pulled by forty heavy draft horses, too wide to pass through Winterfell's gates.
Lord Stark knelt back down into the snow and kissed the ring upon her finger, while the King embraced Lady Stark as if she was a long-lost sister.
"My Queen." Lord Stark said, rising back upon his feet.
Torrhen leaned forth towards Robb's ear, muttering a few words "These southerners look too pretty, you can mistake the crown prince for a woman if he had longer hair"
He felt a strong nudge into his ribcage, and he turned his head towards Sansa, who placed her finger at her lips, she had been bratty the entire time she heard the King was coming to Winterfell, already calling the crown prince the love of her life.
Soon the formalities of greeting had been completed "Take me down to your crypt, Ned, I would pay my respect." the king demanded, he had previously been betrothed to their aunt, Lyanna Stark, though father rarely talks about her or how Winterfell was before he was called to War.
"Come on, Rickon." Torrhen said, moving out of the line and picking up his youngest brother who was standing beside their mother "Let us go and see where Shaggydog has ended up!" he poked Rickon in his stomach, making the boy giggle.
"Do not let him out of your sight, Torrhen." his mother yelled as they got further away.
Later that night, there was a great feast held for the procession, men filled the great hall,and the castle had never been more lively. Torrhen disappeared an hour into the night to put Rickon to sleep, allowing his mother to enjoy the festivities, it was not like anyone would notice him missing, was his thought.
"Tell him the story of the Rat King, nan." Torrhen asked, the old frail had been seated on an old chair knitting away as Rickon wrapped up next to his elder brother as he laid beside him "He'll love it." both Shaggydog and Magnar were laid out at the end of the bed.
"Oh, I do think it is such a tale for a young lad." Old Nan shook her head.
"I want to hear..please.." Rickon pleaded.
"Very well then." Old Nan was a elderly woman that had been in service to House Stark before even Torrhen was born, and had even watch his father be raised when he was still young and filled with the wonders of youth, though she had retired for a while, she would stay awake and tell tales to each of the stark children.
"It is said that a very long time ago, there was a King in the North who paid the visit to the Nightfort, and within those four cold darkened walls, now during a feast, the King greatly offended a cook of the keep, saying that he had seen better from the lowest of taverns." Old Nan coughed "In response to this great offence, the cook served up a pie the day afterwards, and what great pie it was, the king was thankful and even asked for a second helping."
"This is boring." Rickon said, looking up at Torrhen "Can you tell me a story?"
"Just wait, little one, it is about to get very interesting, is that not right, Nan?" Torrhen responded.
"Torrhen is right, young pup, you see the pie was not made of normal ingredients, the cook had carved up the King's son and heir and baked his flesh and meat into the very pie the king had loved." Torrhen spotted the shock and disgust on Rickon's face.
"You see, the gods took great offence with his actions." Torrhen would continue on from Old Nan "and they cursed the cook by turning him into a fat, white rat which could only live if it fed on its own young, now you may think the gods were angry that he killed the heir, but they were not, for a man has the right to vengeance."
Torrhen shook his head, staring down at his brother. "They could not forgive the fact that the cook killed a guest beneath his roof..no no, that is something gods take seriously above all else, and he has been known since then as the Rat Cook."
"What happened to the rat?" Rickon asked.
"No one knows, it is said that he is condemned to run the halls of the Nightfort for all eternity, even long after it has become an abandoned ruin." Torrhen slipped out of the bed, wrapping Rickon up in the furs "Old Nan will tell you of another tale, if you promise to close your eyes and sleep.."
"I promise." Rickon whispered "Will you return?"
"I will only be in the Great Hall, little man." Torrhen smiled "I will return shortly, though you will be asleep when I do, Magnar will remain here with you also." he ran his hand through the boy's hair before making his way back down to the feast.
The Great Hall was hazy with smoke and heavy with the smell of roasted meat and fresh-baked bread when he returned, ballards were being played that the men were all cheering too, you could hardly hear a soul above the roar of the fire, the clangour of metal plates and cups, joined with the low mutter of a hundred drunken conversations.
He slithered his way back down next to Robb and Theon, who was seated beneath the raised platform where his father and mother hosted the King and Queen.
"Little Rickon is finally asleep I take it." Robb asked, and Torrhen made a simple nod in response, grabbing hold of a flask and filling his mug with its contents. "Well it is good you are now back, you will be pleased to know the crown prince is a right royal prick."
"I'd expect nothing less of a southerner, brother." Torrhen chuckled, taking a swig from his mug "Put a sword in Bran's hand and he could beat the bastard."
"I wouldn't be so sure." Theon included himself "I heard from some of the squires that our crown prince gets trained personally by Ser Barristan the Bold and the Kingslayer."
"Hah! That is hogwash." Torrhen looked across the table to the crown prince, pretentiously sipping on his wine as his eyes were gazing at Sansa, the prince was soft and pretty, and looked like he had not once held a sword in his life "I would bet on his younger brother defeating him, that one right there is a weakling."
Sansa had been obsessed with the weakling, they had been staring longingly at one another since before he even entered the great hall, his sister was quick to fancy any boy who would give her even a slight bit of attention, and constantly told everyone of the blonde haired stag that would fulfil her fantasies and make her a princess.
"Where is Jon?" he wondered, looking at Robb as he noticed Jon was not sitting at the table, nor was he among the crowds of men that were also celebrating.
"Your mother thought it might insult the royal family to see the Bastard of Winterfell sat eating and drinking amongst them." Theon answered, with a smirk upon face that was quick to agitate Torrhen.
"Whatever.." he responded, taking another sip at his wine "Where is he?"
"I saw him take leave from the hall." Robb revealed "I suspect you will find him in the courtyard, though you should be here, it may be a while before we have our next feast, this will no doubt set our coffers back a few hundred gold."
"This is ridiculous! Our brother is made to feel like an outcast in his own home." Torrhen spat, he cared not for his brother position as a bastard, and loved him no less than Robb "These southerners come up here and act as if they can command us, all because a fat oaf wears a crown, I'll be damned, the north belongs to us."
"Your brother is a bastard, Stark." Theon spoke, causing a glare shot his way by Torrhen "And while you may not see him as such, that does not make it a lie, his very existence brings dishonour to your father's name"
"Stop speaking of something you have no understanding of, squid." Torrhen barked, rising from his chair, he never had any love for Theon, he heard the stories of when reavers from the Iron Islands raided their western coast during the Greyjoy Rebellion raping and murdering their subjects, destroying villages.
"Theon meant no harm." Robb defended the squid, and Torrhen stepped back and bit his lip, clenching his fists. "He was making an observation, that is all. And you should learn to not speak ill of the King and his family, they could have your head for spouting as such."
"I sometimes wonder whose side you are on, brother?" Torrhen set his mug down, wiping his lips and setting his gaze on Theon "You may be our father's ward, but never forget you are a hostage, all the same, a tool to ensure your own father does not step out of line." he spat.
"Can I speak with you in private, brother?" Robb looked angry, rising from the table and crossing his arms.
"Fine.."
Robb and Torrhen made their way through the Great Hall and out into the courtyard, where his elder brother gripped tightly onto his arm "I thought we went through this, why are you still trying to start an argument? Theon did not deserve that outrage."
"You would have him speak ill of our brother, or our father's honour?" Torrhen pulled his arm away, pushing Robb backwards "I will not understand how you could be friends with him, he is the enemy, and always will be."
"His father was the enemy." Robb pushed back "Theon is the heir to Pyke, and could one day be Lord Paramount of the Iron Islands, my friendship could bring peace between our two houses, father knows this."
"Peace?" Torrhen chuckled in disbelief "There will never be peace with the Iron Islands, brother, and you are foolish to think so, they are nothing but reavers and thieves."
"You read too much, and you let it control your opinions on people." Robb analysed "Perhaps if you spoke with Theon without attacking him or calling him a 'squid' you will see why I like him, he is not his father, he has been raised here almost as long as he was raised in the Iron Islands."
"My opinions are my own." Torrhen responded.
"Are they? You hate the southerners, you hate the Islanders, and yet you have hardly spoken to one of them. Perhaps Maester Luwin should give you a lesson in making allies instead of enemies, what if the King had heard what you said tonight?"
"He didn't."
"But what if he did?" Robb insisted
"I don't know, perhaps he would of had me flogged, or a good ol' beating from his Kingsguard." Torrhen rolled his eyes, turning away from Robb "Are we done?"
"Take what I have said and make peace with Theon." Robb placed a hand upon Torrhen's shoulder "And c0ntrol that damn anger of yours, I'd hate to have to put you on your arse." Robb chuckled.
"Fine, if that is what you want, I will speak with him tomorrow." he promised.
"Now, let us go in and sneak a few more ales before father or mother decides we had enough for the night."