Dark wings, dark words. The old adage echoed in his mind as he read the parchment Maester Luwin had given him earlier that day. It seemed to Robb that the words were proving more and more true in recent days. The raven his father had received from the King brought word of Jon Arryn's death and had split his family. That raven had brought the King north and pulled his father south, along with his sisters and brother. If not for that raven, all would be well.
The raven from his aunt told tales of treason, and had only brought his wife grief. It had soured her hopes of a rekindled relationship with her father. She had been pleased when he kept his promise of writing to her, but instead of joy they brought her grief. He often found her rereading them over and over again, searching for clues of his betrayal that were not there. It had also called his mother south and left him to run Winterfell. The dark words those ravens brought paled in comparison to this one, however. This raven brought horrors that he could not have imagined.
Maester Luwin had entered his solar earlier that morning with ravens that had arrived overnight, as he always did. Ravens from across the north, bannermen asking for favors or voicing complaints, either was equally likely Robb had found. Maester Luwin never stuck around, as he had his own responsibilities. If Robb needed him he would send for him, and more oft than not the letters were of little consequence.
This time was different. In the stack was a letter from Sansa that he had set aside, but after three letters of complaints he'd found himself reaching for it. It will be good to hear from her, he had thought, as most of what he had heard from Sansa had been through her letters to Alys. They usually contained stories of her time at court or notes on Arya's new sword instructor and Bran's squireship. Neither Arya or Bran were particularly inclined to writing home without prompting, and so Sansa wrote for them. He broke the seal and frowned at the brevity of her letter. They're usually much longer than this.
The air left his lungs all at once and his blood whirled in his ears, drowning any noise around him save the beat of his own heart. The window of his solar had been opened to let in the cool air but his solar grew colder still. Words of treason and death swirled before him, a haze of ink and his sister's neat penmanship. He hadn't realized he'd stopped breathing until his lungs began to tighten and scream and he took a gulping breath of air. All at once the shrieks of children playing in the summer snow burst through his window and the stillness was gone. His own world had stopped, but outside the room it continued.
Father arrested on charges of treason. His mind reeled and he read the letter thrice more. Conspired with Robert's brothers against Joffrey? Her beloved Joffrey? Robb's blood began to boil. He had grown up on stories of his father and King Robert and the time they shared in the Eyrie, of the rebellion they fought together. Robert had been as much a brother to his father as his Uncle Benjen or Uncle Brandon had. He read the letter once more in hopes that the pieces would fall together, but nothing did.
He pushed his chair back and stumbled to the door and wrenched it open. He flagged down a servant in the halls and ordered her to send for Alysanne. If he couldn't make sense of it then perhaps she could. She knew Joffrey and Cersei better than him. He knew nothing of southron politics, and though she had only spent several moons in King's Landing, that was more than he had.
He had come to rely on her heavily in the past moons. Much of their evening meals together were spent discussing matters of the day, and more oft than not he found himself seeking her advice. She had helped him make appointments and settle small disputes and had stayed his hand when perhaps he would have been too rash. Her Uncle Tyrion had come to stay a night on his way down from the wall after his mother left, and though he had not been mentioned in his Aunt Lysa's letter Robb had still been wary of him. "I have Lannister blood," she had said, "If you're to condemn him for sharing blood with my aunt and father then you may as well condemn me." If matters had been entirely up to him he would have offered Tyrion the stables, but he listened to her anyway.
It was Alysanne's own blood who had imprisoned his father, the man who had raised both of them. He knew the precarious position that put her in, there were those in the north who were sceptical of her as is. He feared this would only cause them to distrust her further and watch her even closer. It's only right I give her time to react in private before this news spreads, where she need not worry about how others perceive her grief.
Alysanne did not bother knocking, and when he caught sight of her he wished more than anything to spare her this pain. Her hair was loosely braided down her back and slightly damp from the melted snow, and her cheeks were flushed from the cold. The hem of her skirts were damp as well. His heart warmed at the sight of her in Stark grey. She must've just come from the yard with Rickon. Rickon had begged her during their morning meal to play with him in the snow, and she had broken from her duties to acquiesce. Rickon missed his mother and had taken a shine to Alys and her ladies, and after the scare in the wolfswood he was never far from her sight.
Aside from the incident with the wildlings and his mothers absence, the last few moons at Winterfell had not been unkind to him and Alysanne. After the adjustment of new responsibilities they had fallen into a routine. They would break their fast together with Rickon before going about their day. If they had the time they would share their midday meal together, but Robb always made time to share dinner. Whether it was in the great hall with the rest of the household or just the two of them, he always made time. It's not as if I'm overly busy anyway, I've Jon and Theon to help me. At night, when Alys lay beside him in their bed, he could imagine that this would be the rest of their life. He could all but picture their life together as Lord and Lady of Winterfell and the children they would have, the family they would build. I should have savored that peace more, he lamented.
She swept her cloak off her shoulders and beamed at him. "Robb!" She strode forward and kissed him, and he relished that last moment of calm. "I had plans to share my midday meal with my ladies, but I could send my apologies if you wish." He studied her face and the joy writ in her eyes. So rarely had he seen it in the days since his Aunt Lysa's raven. The accusation against her father had saddened her more than she let on, he suspected. "Robb?" She questioned, concerned at his silence.
He cleared his throat and retrieved the parchment from his desk. "A letter from Sansa. It seems my father's been accused of treason." He watched her reaction carefully. She paled and tensed, eyeing the letter in his hands as though it were a viper poised to strike.
Alys gingerly took the letter from his hands. This is what she had feared. The raven bearing the news of King Robert's demise had arrived only yesterday, and Alysanne had not shared in the grief of the rest of the kingdom. Privately, in their chambers, she had allowed her courtesies to fall. "Long live King Joffrey!" She had mocked. "He will not be kind to your family, I fear. If only because I am a part of it." The strife between her and Joffrey was not new to him, nor was her fear of his rule once he took the throne. Robert had hated that he'd failed to rid the world of dragonspawn and it seemed as though Joffrey followed suit. But both of them had thought that was a problem for the future, years down the line. A foolish thought, perhaps. She clenched her fistsand the letter crumpled. "These aren't Sansa's words."
"It's in her hand." He gently took the parchment back from her and did his best to remove the wrinkles.
She scoffed. "Her hand but Cersei's words. 'My beloved Joffrey'," she choked out a laugh. "Sansa has made no mention of Joffrey in any of her letters, save for the one sent home with the direwolves. And that made no kind mention of him. No, these are the Queen's words in Sansa's hand." Alysanne began to pace, fists clenched and teeth clenched.
Robb remembered that letter. Lady, Nymeria, and Summer had shown up at the gates one morning with three of his fathers guardsmen and a letter. Sansa had written of the incident at the ruby ford and how close Nymeria had come to injuring Joffrey. Alys had been pleased Sansa had remembered her warning and had welcomed having more of the direwolves around, but Robb had been ill at ease. He did not like to think of his siblings so far from home without the protection of their wolves. He knew the bond he shared with Grey Wind and imagined it was similar for his siblings. The thought of being separated from his own direwolf rankled him.
She stopped her pacing and snapped her attention to him, green eyes ablaze. "Your father is a good man. An honorable one. He would never do such a thing," her voice was fierce and her words sharp. Robb sat on the edge of his desk and Alys resumed her pacing. "What will you do?"
What can I do? Sansa had made no mention of Bran or Arya in her letter, and as far as he knew the Lannisters held all three of his siblings as well as his father. If I refuse what becomes of them? "I'll do as he says. I'll go to King's Landing and swear fealty-"
"What?" Alysanne rounded on him before he could finish. "Just like that? He imprisons your father and you do as he bids?" Her fury was directed at him now and never had he seen her so full of fire. He bit back a retort that would have only inflamed her further. It is not me she is angry with, not truly.
"I won't go alone. I'll call the bannermen and go to King's Landing with the full force of the North." Let them remember what happened last time a Stark was imprisoned in the Red Keep.
Alys appraised him. "I would do no less. But if you march south with an army at your back, it will be taken as an act of aggression. Cersei and my grandfather are far from merciful."
Robb pushed to his feet. "Arresting my father was an act of aggression! I won't go alone to King's Landing, I would be a fool to do so. But I must go all the same. What choice do I have?"
Alysanne drew herself up. "You don't know how dangerous that place is!" Tears welled in her eyes and her voice grew hysterical. "Elia and her children died there, my mother died there, and now they have your father and Sansa, and most likely Arya and Bran. I won't let it happen again, it can't happen again!" Robb pulled her to his chest and held her tight. Much of her family has died in that city, a family that she never had the chance to know.
The last time a Stark had marched south at the behest of a King, both had burned alive. Joffrey was no Aerys, but Robb knew him to be cruel. He knew of his cruelty towards Alysanne and Tommen and Myrcella. If I refuse his summons, would that cruelty extend to my own siblings? If I go alone will it extend to me? "They have my father, my sisters, and Bran." He rested his chin on the top of her head. "I cannot just leave them there. Only the gods know what he'll do to them if I ignore his summons altogether."
Alys pulled away and went to stand at the window, arms wrapped tightly around herself. She watched as the children played and pelted eachother with snowballs and hid behind mounds of snow. "Send the ravens and call your bannermen. I like it not, but we have no other choice," she faced him once more. "I won't lose more of my family."
Robb threw himself into the chair by his desk and he scrubbed a hand over his face. It wouldn't do to make this decision without other council. Maester Luwin had counseled his father for years now and had not yet led him astray. Theon and Jon as well. He wouldn't march south without them at his side, and he would have them know his decision as he made it. Besides, he's Jon's father too. "I'll gather Theon and Jon, you gather Maester Luwin. Meet me in the godswood."
He made to stand and leave but Alys stopped him. "And Ser Addam. I want him by my side for this." Robb considered her request for a moment. Ser Addam had never given him any reason to not trust him, it was quite the contrary. Ser Addam had been a fixture in Winterfell for years now and had even helped him train. He had taken Bran on as a squire as well, out of his own goodwill at no benefit to himself. Ser Addam had never once failed Alysanne, he could not begrudge her of the man who was a father to her. He knows the south and their politics. He could be a valuable ally. Robb nodded his assent and left to find Jon and Theon.
They gathered in the godswood in the very same place they had when his mother read the letter from her sister. The woods seemed still as they always did when it snowed, a world away from everything else. Sound from outside the yard was muffled by the snow and there was only the sounds of birds and the panting and light growels of the direwolves beside him. His breath puffed out in front of him and the snow crunched beneath his feet. Theon and Jon were there before him, and Alysanne and Maester Luwin arrived not long after with Ser Addam trailing behind them. Alysanne came to stand beside him, still in the same grey dress and dark cloak as earlier.
He didn't waste any time. "A letter from my sister Sansa. My father has been arrested on charges of treason." He passed the letter to Maester Luwin who studied it carefully.
"Treason?" Theon shouted and Alys shushed him. "What do you mean?" Jon questioned. Ser Addam held out his hand to Maester Luwin in a silent request to read the missive for himself.
Maester Luwin echoed Alysanne's sentiment from earlier. "It's your sister's hand, but the Queen's words I fear." He passed the parchment to Ser Addam. He read it briefly before handing it to Jon and Theon. "She makes no mention of Bran or Arya either."
"We can only assume Joffrey and Cersei have them as well," Alys said. A safe assumption. A part of Robb wanted to believe they were free, but he knew that the odds of that were slim.
Robb waited until everyone had a chance to read the letter for themselves. He braced himself. "I intend to call the banners and march south with them at my back."
Maester Luwin was quick to object. His grey robes swirled around him as he stepped forward. "Robb, that would not be wise. This is already a precarious situation. Calling one's bannermen is no small matter, and I fear it will only escalate things."
"And what should he do then?" Jon asked. "Joffrey holds our father and at the very least Sansa," Jon turned to face Robb. "If you call the banners and march south, I will be by your side."
Theon stepped forward as well. "Your father raised me, and treated me well when he had no reason to. I won't let Sansa be held there. Or Bran, or Arya. My sword is yours."
Robb was relieved that they intended to follow him. He had not doubted they would, but the reassurance gave him courage. Theon felt as much a brother as Jon did, and he could not face the coming moons alone. He regarded Maester Luwin once more. If my father relied on him, then so should I. Even if he had all but made up his mind, it would not do any harm to listen to what he may have to say. "What would you suggest then? I can't ignore his summons, he has my family."
The Maester shifted his weight and the chains around his neck rattled. "Do as he says. Go to King's Landing and see if perhaps another solution can be found."
"That would be a mistake," Alysanne said. "Do not mistake me, I understand the implications of marching south with an army. But whatever happened that resulted in the arrest of Lord Stark will be no small matter, and Joffrey does not forget easily."
Ser Addam was the next to speak. He had been silent up until that moment, watching the debate and observing. "It is no small thing to arrest a Lord Paramount, and so publically at that." He glanced at Alysanne before returning his attention to him. "Maester Luwin is right, calling your bannermen may escalate things. But you cannot allow such a slight against your house to go unanswered."
Robb nodded. If he did nothing, he risked angering Joffrey. If he went alone to swear fealty, he risked becoming a prisoner himself, and perhaps Alysanne's life as well. He would not abide by me coming without her, and there is no one to stop him from harming her now. Aside from me. If he went to King's Landing with an army at his back, the risk of angering Joffrey remained. There is no easy solution. He tried to think of what his father would do, tried to summon his voice to his mind but he could not. His mother was still away as well and her memory offered no answers. My council is those who stand beside me now. "It's as Ser Addam says. A slight against House Stark cannot go unanswered." He refocused his attention back to Maester Luwin. "Call the banners."
Jon left the clearing, and then Alys and Ser Addam and Maester Luwin, leaving only him and Theon. "Are you frightened?" Theon asked.
Robb held out his hand in front of him and they both watched as it shook. "I suppose I am." He let out a breathy laugh. I am a boy playing at war. But his father had been no older than he when he led his own bannermen south, and he would not be alone.
"Good," Theon asserted. "That means you're not an idiot." Robb laughed and Theon joined him.
The ravens flew from the rookery that evening one by one, each carrying dark words upon dark wings across the north. Ravens to houses Hornwood, Cerwyn, and Tallhart and more to houses Glover, Manderly, and Mormont. A raven was sent to Lord Bolton of the Dreadfort, and another to Lord Reed of Greywater Watch. They sent a raven north to Lord Karstark of Karhold and another further north to Lord Umber in Last Hearth. Robb even had Maester Luwin send one to his Grandfather, Hoster Tully in Riverrun. By the time all the ravens had been sent it seemed none remained in the rookery.
Robb tried his best to appear confident in his decision, but the warnings of Maester Luwin stuck in his mind. He feared that perhaps this was the wrong decision, and that Joffrey and Cersei would retaliate by taking the lives of his family. He sat in bed that night and watched Alysanne brush through her hair. They had not spoken since the meeting in the godswood. She'd had to make arrangements for the arriving bannermen and he had ravens to send out. He again found himself seeking her assurance. "Am I wrong? To summon my bannermen?"
She placed the brush on the table. "It is a risk. There is no easy answer, Robb. But I would do no different, were it my decision alone." She joined him in bed, slipping under the furs. He smiled a bit at that. Even with the warm walls and the fire burning in the hearth she still sought the warmth of furs. Her time at Winterfell had not gifted her with a tolerance for the cold. He knew it well enough, as she'd developed a habit of pressing her ice cold feet onto his legs. I'll miss that, when I ride south.
"Rickon is by rights Lord of Winterfell while I'm away, but I've instructed Maester Luwin to run any decisions by you. Winterfell will be yours, at least until my mother returns."
Alys frowned and sat up. "I'm coming with you."
Robb blanched. "With me?" Robb had lived his life in times of peace and had never seen a war camp with his own eyes, but he knew enough to know it was no place for a lady. Although it is not a war, merely a show of force. Still, images of arriving in King's Landing with Alysanne ran through his mind. She would be within Joffrey's reach, and Cersei's. No, he much preferred her here, leagues away from his grasp. "I won't allow it. You're safer here."
That had been the wrong thing to say. Blood rushed to her face. "You won't allow it?" Her voice rose in volume. "And just how do you mean to stop me? Will you lock me in a tower, like Baelor did his sisters?"
His own temper began to flare. "I won't have you in a war camp! It's too dangerous."
"It's as you said earlier. It's not a war. And I know more of southron politics than you, or Jon or Theon. What do you my lord grandfather was teaching me all those times he came to visit? Did you think he was reading me stories of gallant knights and fair maidens?" He went to speak but she barreled on. "I learned politics at his knee. He's far from honorable, but he's far from foolish. You need me with you. Besides, how do you think your bannermen would like you leaving Winterfell in the hands of Jaime Lannister's daughter?" She spat the last words.
"They would think nothing of it. You're my wife, a Stark, and the future Lady of Winterfell." He understood her argument, however. And perhaps she was right. If negotiations in King's Landing went sour he could always send her back to Winterfell or to Riverrun. "And I do not think you a fool, I know that your grandfather had a heavy hand in your education." Alysanne looked apologetic.
"I know you don't," she grabbed his hand. "Forgive me and my temper."
He kissed her hand. "All is forgiven." He did not begrudge her for losing her temper, the last few moons had been hard on her. First her father was accused of murder, and now her aunt had imprisoned half her good-family.
She settled back against her pillows and fixed the furs. "It's settled then, I'll ride south with you. You said it yourself, I'm to be the Lady of Winterfell. My place is at your side. Your bannermen need to see that I stand firmly by your side."
Insufferable. But her advice and knowledge would be useful. "If negotiations sour, you ride back north."
Her mouth twisted, but she agreed all the same. "I'll do what is best." She blew out the candle by her bedside and shuffled further under her covers.
He closed his eyes and thought of Sansa, Arya, and Bran. They were alone and without their father or their mother. Alone in the south without their direwolves. If the gods are good, no harm will come to them. Never had he so badly wanted the council of his mother and father. At least his mother would return soon. He wondered if she had heard yet, if she had heard that her husband and three of her children were stuck in King's Landing. Gods help her when she does.
Perhaps she would have a better idea of what could have happened that would result in accusations of treason to be levied against his father. He would no sooner betray King Robert than he would betray his own family. His father had always taught him to be honorable, to be a good man. And he had never known his father to have a desire for the throne. He would have just taken it for himself, rather than for Robert.
He rolled over and pulled Alysanne to his chest. There was naught to do now but wait for his bannermen to arrive, and so he would take one more night of peace to himself. He did his best to picture the future, months from now when this conflict would pass. He tried to imagine all of his family back together and safe in Winterfell, but the image would not come.