Robb POV

Block, parry, slash

He repeated those words in his head like a mantra as he yearned for his first win against Jory since he first picked up a blade. The captain of his father's guards was the finest sword in Winterfell and had beaten everyone in a duel… except for Jon. That split second of losing concentration was almost the end for the heir to Winterfell as Jory capitalised on his mistake, feinting to the right but Robb managed to counter with the most perfect riposte catching Jory off guard. He let out a grin and began circling Jory, who had a wary look on his face.

"Come on Jory, you're not going to let me finally win are ya?"

"It isn't over yet little lordling" he replied with a smile on his face.

Robb immediately pressed on the front foot, not wanting to let the more experienced man regain his bearings. He tightened the grip on his shield and slashed in a downward arc, which Jory easily blocked before sending an experimental swing back himself. Robb deflected the strike and closed the distance between them, spinning to his left he hit the back of Jory's knee with the flat of his blade… just like Jon loved to do.

He grunted in annoyance, he needed to stop distracting himself. Jory managed to roll away before he could capitalise on his advantage, but when he made his way to stand up, it was quite clear that he was struggling to remain upright. Robb took note that most of Jory's weight was shifted onto his left leg, which would leave him off balance and that is when he knew that his first victory was all but assured as long as he didn't get distracted.

"Come on Robb, you can do it!" yelled Arya from where she sat on some dusty barrel as she clapped for him.

"Yeah you can do it, beat him Robb!" cheered Bran, just as enthusiastic as their sister.

"Robbyyy!" screamed Rickon with delight, his youngest brother looked completely dishevelled which was not a surprise given his wild nature, somehow he was wilder than Arya to their mother's ire and everyone else's amusement.

Come on Robb Stark, don't let them down now. Prove to everyone that you are worthy to be father's heir and the next Lord of Winterfell. Jory lunged at him, hoping to take him by surprise and going all out as he realised the end for him was near. Robb parried his strike to the right with ease and struck him with his shield, forcing him a few steps back. Jory sent a wild swing at Robb, which would be the last thing he did as Robb parried with his shield and used the momentum to sweep Jory's bad leg, sending him flat onto his back.

"Do you yield?" Robb asked with his sword pointed at the fallen knight's neck.

"Aye, I yield Robb."

The yard exploded with cheer that the heir had finally bested one of the best swordsmen in the North. Robb had to fight the grin that was beginning to form on his face as he moved his sword away and reached out a hand to help Jory back to his feet. The knight congratulated him with a genuine smile on his face and complimented him on just how much he had improved over the years. Robb thanked him and Ser Rodrik when the old master at arms came over to congratulate him. Of course, the grizzly knight also had to berate him for his lapses in concentration at times.

Arya and Bran had charged at him, both of his siblings speaking too fast for him to truly understand what they were saying. Rickon came running behind them and he grabbed his brother before throwing him into the air making the boy laugh. Robb looked around the yard and saw Theon clapping mockingly, but the mirth of joy was clear to see in his eyes. He could hear people talk about how he was a gifted swordsman and he would be a liar if he denied that it didn't fill him with pride to hear their praises. Sansa was politely clapping for him with her friend Jeyne by her side, who was staring at him with starry eyes to his discomfort.

Robb looked up to the balcony above the yard to his parents. His mother was clapping for him, the pride for her firstborn was visible for everyone to see. His father on the other hand graced him with a small smile of approval, which meant more to him than any other compliment. Robb heard another set of clapping and without even thinking, he turned to the corner to see Jon. His brother having foregone his usual brooding to smile at his victory, his face was full of happiness for him. However, as soon as Robb blinked his brother was gone, and that small moment of content was ripped from him. The reality was that Jon was gone and would likely never return.

He pried his siblings off him and left the yard to the shock of everyone. Thinking of his brother leaving at first made him angry, but over the years that anger became reluctant acceptance and now it was just pure despair. Robb made his way to the Godswood to seek the comfort of the Old Gods and pray for his brother. The heart tree had been leaking sap from the day Jon had left and many had whispered that the Old Gods were mourning Jon's departure from Winterfell to his mother's detriment. She along with septa Mordane were the only people to be happy that Jon had left.

There had been a gloom over Winterfell for the longest time, one that had taken years to diminish but still lingered. As much as he struggled with Jon leaving, it was Arya who had struggled the most. She lashed out at anyone and everyone, especially their mother, the septa, and Theon. Those three had to bear the brunt of her wolfsblood as she blamed them for Jon feeling like a stranger in Winterfell.

The first year was just a constant battle, it had started when Arya had taken all her dresses and thrown them in the mud before having her horse trample them beyond repair. Catelyn Stark was furious at her daughter for such unladylike behaviour and when she reprimanded her behaviour, Arya screamed at her that she was the worst mother in the world and she wished that she had left Winterfell instead of Jon. Everyone had been shocked into silence at what Arya had said and that was the first and only time he had seen his mother cry. Arya left before anyone could say anything and no one saw her for the next few hours, leading to the worry she too had run away, but in search of Jon. It had turned out she was in Jon's chambers, which she had claimed for herself, and to this day slept there instead of in the family wing.

Their mother tried to force her back into her usual chambers in the family wing but their father allowed Arya to remain in Jon's chambers. Arya had a smug smile on her face as their mother would not be able to overrule the Lord of Winterfell. She complained that the chambers were not suitable to sleep in, to which Arya replied in a cold voice that she had forced her brother in such chambers without any care for their suitability stunning the matron of the keep into complete silence.

However, her interactions with septa Mordane and Theon were a whole lot worse. Whenever the woman tried to disparage Jon and say how it is a blessing that he has left, Arya jumped the woman and would have clawed her eyes out had he not been around to pull her away. This only worsened when the woman learned that Jon had gifted Arya a sword and went to their mother to try and have the skinny blade confiscated. Robb could still remember his mother's fury as she demanded that the sword be handed over Arya stubbornly refused. Septa Mordane, not learning her lesson from the last time she spoke down on Jon, quoted some nonsense line from the seven-pointed star about how this was Jon's way of corrupting her and destroying her chances of being a proper lady.

Arya had a feral look in her eyes as she unsheathed her sword and threatened the next time she spoke badly of Jon, then Mordane would be a corpse full of holes. The lashing out did not end there for Arya refused to go to any of her lessons with the septa and their father eventually agreed after his patience had finally run thin. Instead, he had a governess sent to Winterfell to take care of Arya's education and even allowed her to finally take part in Bran's lessons with Ser Rodrik on the sword. Robb did not know whether or not his father had finally relented on the subject to help Arya cope with Jon leaving or to spite his mother and the septa, but whatever the reason was it did help his sister calm her anger at the world.

From that day forth she did not lash out at the two women, but she refused to speak more than a few words to them and that was only at their father's behest when their mother lamented the fact Arya was giving her the silent treatment. Robb himself did not lash out and neither did his father or the rest of his siblings, but they all coped in their own way. He threw himself into his studies and asked for further responsibilities to undertake from his father, Bran would spend even more time climbing until one day he just stopped to everyone's relief. Still, his climbing was a sign of his innocence that was now dead, which was replaced by him spending every moment he could in the yard, declaring that he will be as good as his big brother Jon one day with the sword.

Sansa pretended as though nothing of note occurred, no doubt trying to please their mother and only earning Arya's ire. However, the moments she thought no one was paying attention to her, Robb would catch her staring forlornly at the places Jon would usually occupy. Rickon would cry out for Jon every day and refused to eat at every dinner. Their mother would try and force feed him, but he would just spit the food back onto his plate. Thankfully, Arya would get him to eat after telling him that Jon would not be happy to learn that he was missing meals.

Their father had been a mess until word had come from Wendel Manderly that Jon had been in Braavos. He could still remember the look of hope in his father's eyes that Jon could be returned home, but that hope was crushed when the second son of the merman informed them that Jon had left the city almost immediately after his arrival. Over the years, traders from the east who would arrive in White Harbor brought with them tales of what Jon was doing across the narrow sea.

To learn that his brother had become a sellsword was not as surprising to Robb as it was to others because he knew how much Jon had always wished to test his mettle for true like every other lad their age. What did come as a shock though was that he had joined the company of the black, not the most famous mercenary group but one that was highly respected for their prowess. Jon was one of the kindest people he knew, but he had obviously changed in the foreign continent if the stories they were told had any grain of truth in them. His brother had garnered a reputation as a ruthless swordsman, one that was touted as the best in all of the East, which infuriated his mother and Theon, who either dismissed the claims or called them outright lies.

Robb let out a laugh as he thought of how petty they both could be, everyone else could see just how petty they could but they could not. He heard a whine from behind and smiled as his direwolf came into sight, Greywind he had named him. Each of the Stark children had been blessed with a pup of their own after finding their mother dead in the wolfswood with a set of antlers in her throat. He had hoped there would be a sixth pup for Jon, a sign for him that it was inevitable for his brother to return home and claim a wolf of his own, to prove that he was a Stark as any of them. There wasn't a sixth pup, but every night the wolves would howl in unison, Old Nan claimed they were calling out for the missing member of the pack. When he told her there were no other wolves she merely smiled at him knowingly and said that he knew nothing.

"Hey boy, what are you doing here?"

Greywind made his way to Robb's side before sitting beside his master. He reached over and began to scratch Greywind behind his ears making the direwolf let out a bark of contentment. He wondered where the rest of Greywind's littermates were since he did not see them by the side of his siblings. Facing the heart tree once more he remembered the day a convoy on behalf of the Sealord arrived at Winterfell with Wendel Manderly to discuss some matters of trade. His father had said that Robb was to sit in on the meeting, but only to observe.

He was happy to do so but found the meeting tedious as the finer details were discussed and matters of trade or even politics were never his strong suit. Robb fought the urge to doze off and forced himself to pay attention as the meeting was almost at an end until the man brought up Jon's name.

His father looked as though he had been struck and Robb was pretty sure he was mirroring his father's facial expressions. Ser Wendel had a knowing look in his eye but kept his face emotionless so as not to give anything away. Robb then leaned forward like a hungry wolf, ready to devour any morsel of knowledge this man could give him about Jon.

"What about my son?" his father asked with an almost sorrowful tone.

"I am sure you must have heard about your son joining the black company after helping in the defence of Myr against the Dothraki, well it seems your son has a knack for killing the horse lords."

"What do you mean my lord?" Robb eagerly asked.

"well young Stark, as you know your brother killed Khal Moro in single combat a couple of years back."

"Aye, the news had reached us from some of our trading partners."

"You see when your brother had killed him, he became quite famous for Moro was one of the most feared Khals in all of Essos. The fame your brother garnered from such a feat only invited challenge from Vaes Dothrak."

"Why would it invite challenge, surely they would only be more wary of my son after defeating someone as fearsome as Moro."

"Usually you would be correct, but the Dothraki believe in strength upon strength. One of their most revered Khals being defeated by a mere boy only brought them shame and with Moro's khalasar being without a leader as his khalakka being deemed too young, many of the remaining Dothraki fought over who should take over."

"A khalakka?" he asked in confusion.

"The Khals son and heir my young lord."

"Surely as his father's heir, the Dothraki are honour bound to follow him?" his father asked with barely hidden disgust.

"Like I said Lord Stark, they believe in strength upon strength and Khalakka Rhogoro was not deemed strong enough to lead… that was until of course he cut down all would-be challengers after the Dosh Khaleen had been consulted and they deemed him old enough to lead."

"What has this got to do with my son?"

"I am getting there my Lord Stark. You see Rhogoro becoming Khal wished to prove his strength further and avenge his father's shame by challenging your son."

"What!" his father shouted whilst he felt anger himself that a Dothraki savage wanted to kill his brother.

"Is Jon okay?" he asked with worry, but the man just laughed and Ser Wendel had an amused grin on his face. Robb would have lashed out in anger had the man not quickly spoken a second later.

"Young Jon further proved himself as a fine warrior. When Rhogoro rode with his Dothraki to the disputed lands to challenge your brother, well it was for nothing as he cut the savage down without breaking a sweat."

Robb wished to let out a whoop in celebration but had to restrain himself lest he embarrass his father. He could not believe it, his brother had defeated two Dothraki Khals in the space of two years. Jon really had been holding back all those years and only displayed just how good he was in their final spar.

"I apologise for worrying you both needlessly, I assure you that was not my intention."

"There is no need my lord and I apologise for our outburst, it was unbecoming and not warranted" replied his father.

"Bah, it is quite natural for you to worry as a father Lord Stark. However, your son is proving to be a warrior worthy of his reputation and dare I say, one that many men envy."

Robb tuned out the rest of the conversation as he internally celebrated his brother's growing victory. He only heard snippets of the conversation and something about Jon becoming the youngest lieutenant in the black company at the tender age of ten and six to their father's horror. He was delighted for his brother but also grew melancholic when the realisation set in that Jon had even less reason to return home and was probably going to remain out east for the foreseeable future.

The heir to Winterfell was brought out of his reminiscing when Greywind suddenly stood and positioned himself to face the right. Robb was confused as to why his direwolf would do such a thing and was even more perplexed when he let out a low growl, even though there was no one to be seen.

"What is it, boy?"

Greywind continued to growl and then stopped when from behind one of the trees came out another wolf, that was pure white with blood-red eyes. Both wolves stared at each other and he was scared that they were going to fight, but the white wolf was eerily silent… too silent. However, both wolves remained in their place as the lone wolf stared at him, his head cocked to the side, almost sizing him up.

As Robb stared into those unnatural eyes, he swore there was recognition in his eyes. Greywind let out a short bark, but the white wolf ignored it and left without making a sound. His direwolf let out a howl, which was matched by his littermates. For some reason, Robb knew then the wolf was destined for Jon and that old nan was right, he did know nothing. His brother would return one day, it may not be tomorrow or even next year, but he would return to his home.

"Please Old Gods, I beg you to look over my brother and keep him safe. Allow him to return to his pack soon."

Authors Note

I hope you enjoyed the chapter, we will be jumping straight into the main plot the next chapter or so. Feel free to let me know what you guys think.

If you wish to read ahead go to my pa tr eon: dragonkingsh