Over the past week, something had been amiss with Jon, Sansa and Arya. Of course mother and father too, but their problems had stemmed from whatever was going on with his siblings. The change occurred when they found the direwolf pups. After that Jon, Sansa and Arya had begun acting strange. It was as if the three of them had suddenly turned into adults overnight, and that wasn't all, they had a cold look in their eyes, haunted and tortured. Robb was convinced something must have happened to them, but what, he couldn't imagine. The look in their eyes was nothing compared to what Robb experienced when he first fought Jon after he'd changed. Jon had always been a good fighter, and Robb was aware he sometimes held back to allow Robb to win. That first time he went up against Jon was like fighting something else, close to how he imagined Ser Arthur Dayne to be. To make matters worse, Robb knew Jon was holding back, a lot.

When they'd had lessons about military history and battle planning, Jon had come into his own. Gone was the shy boy, replaced by a battle hardened Commander who knew strategy and counter strategy. He acted as if his every waking moment was filled with war. As much as he was stunned and impressed by Jon's new found understanding, he missed his brother.

Most of all, his siblings were cold and aloof, and weary of everyone else. They were clearly trying to put on an act, however they were failing. It was as if there were three complete strangers in the bodies of his brother and sisters. So to try and find out what was wrong, he started trying to follow them, with little success, especially when Arya was around. She'd suddenly turn up out of nowhere, her hands behind her back, staring at him as if he were prey. Today was no exception.

He'd seen Jon head down to the crypts, followed by Sansa. Checking nobody was around, Robb decided to follow them and listen to their conversation. He knew not to get too close, just enough to hear what they were saying, so he stood behind one of the statues of the kings of winter, listening to his brother and sister. They sat against the wall, opposite the statue of aunt Lyanna, cuddled up together. If it hadn't been a strange sight, it would have been heart-warming, until he heard a conversation which turned his stomach.

"You need a beard. I prefer you with a beard, you look more like a King. And start tying your hair back." Sansa said, in the most normal voice he'd heard for the last few days, although it was clear she was chastising Jon, although when had Sansa seen Jon with his hair longer, he'd always had it like he'd had it now. And why did she want him to look like a King? Robb was confused.

"It's too short." Jon complained.

"I'll get to work on a cloak for you. After I've finished the new dress I'm making for myself. Do you think you could show me how to use a dagger? Arya's too short and quick."

Jon kissed her on the forehead. "Aye, I will. Tonight in the Godswood?" he asked.

"That would be perfect." Sansa kissed him back on the cheek. "I need to go..." Robb realised they were about to separate, so he quickly crept out of the crypt, but at least he knew where they were going. As long as Arya didn't spot him, he'd be fine.

That night Robb watched the three of them in the Godswood.

"I'm adding Ramsay to my list!" Arya declared, she was sitting twirling a dagger in her fingers as if it were a toy.

"He's mine!" Sansa declared, throwing a dagger to a tree and missing completely. She walked over to where it landed and picked it back up.

"You already fed him to his hounds." Arya said as Sansa stepped behind her. "I want a turn. I promise I'll make it more painful." she glanced at the target, threw the dagger and hit it.

"What could be more painful than feeding him to his hounds?" Sansa sighed.

"Should we dare ask?" Jon shuddered. "This is coming from the girl who baked two men into a pie and served it to their father, before killing him and his entire family." Arya returned from retrieving her dagger.

"Do what he likes doing best." Arya twirled her dagger once more and threw it, with just a mere glance at her target, hitting it perfectly. Robb swallowed, this girl was not his sister, she was an imposter. But that meant if she was, they all were.

"No. Bran sent us here for a reason." Jon shook his head.

"You mean the Three-Eyed-Raven sent us here." Sansa corrected. "He knew what he was doing with those daggers."

"We need to keep our focus on destroying the army of the dead. Mine dragonglass, organise the wall. There's no time for petty vengeances." Jon sighed, taking Arya's dagger from her and throwing it, perfectly hitting the target. He pulled it out from their target and handed it over to Sansa. "Your turn."

Sansa stood closer than the others to the target and raised her hand. "You're not holding your wrist properly." Arya said to her. "Bend your wrist back toward your forearm. It will let the knife turn over in the air more quickly."

"Put your weight on your right leg, put your left foot in front of you, raise your arm in front of you so that it is straight up from the ground, and bend at the elbow so that the dagger is next to your head." Jon added. "Here!" Jon stood behind Sansa. "Weight on this leg, but this foot forward." he helped her with the dagger. "Now let me get as far away as possible before you throw."

Sansa threw the dagger and this time it was quite close to the mark; the other two clapped. "Not bad." Arya stated. "Give it a month and you'll be able to throw more than just daggers with those eyes." she tilted her head to the side.

Sansa sat down. Do you think anyone suspects that something is wrong?" she asked.

"Everyone knows something is wrong." Arya sighed.

"But how can we act like children? We've done so many bad things." Jon shook his head.

"I know you're talking about him. Stop blaming yourself. He murdered you. Don't feel guilty." Sansa scolded him. "He killed Ygritte and you forgave him."

"Well I don't feel guilty." Arya shrugged, her arms behind her back.

That was when Robb truly saw it, they weren't children, these were adults in the bodies of children. They didn't hold themselves like children, their body movements were wrong. Yet, at the same time, he knew that he was still looking at Jon, Arya and Sansa.

"Were you two in the crypts earlier?" Arya asked.

"Jon had gone to see his mother." Sansa said, perking Robb's ears up. Father had never told Jon who his mother was. Why would she be in the crypts?

"I think Robb was lurking." Arya told them. "I've been watching him. No faces, I promise. But he looked unhappy."

Robb knew he had to leave. As soon as they realised they had mentioned the arrangement to meet in the Godswood, they'd know he might be there. Silently, he crept away and ran as fast as he could back to his chambers.

Over the next few days he watched his three siblings, pretending to act like normal, but it was difficult. These three people were dangerous, father seemed to interact with them normally. He wanted to speak with mother, but she and father weren't on speaking terms, and it definitely had something to do with Jon. She had taken a far greater interest in his brother than she ever had done before and it was unnerving, especially as she watched every interaction between Jon and Sansa. None of it made any sense, until the night he got a knock on the door. He opened his door and Arya stood at the other side, her face emotionless, eyes dead. As usual her arms were behind her back. She cocked her head to one side, examining him as if he were some sort of threat.

"Father wants to see you in his solar." Arya said, quickly turning on her heel and marching towards their father's solar. Not wishing to risk the wrath of this person who looked like his sister, he followed. When he arrived, he found not only his father, but Jon, Sansa and their mother.

"Robb, please sit." father told him, he pulled up a chair and joined them.

"What is going on?" Robb asked. "I know something is off."

Ned nodded. "I cannot reveal everything, but there are some things which I can tell you, and I will be acting upon them. The deserter of the Night's Watch was telling the truth, the army of the dead are marching on the wall as we speak. However I do not expect an imminent invasion. However I don't think that is what you are talking about. Jon, Sansa and Arya will be leaving for Queenscrown on the morrow. Jon Arryn is dead, and the King is riding for Winterfell. He will ask me to be hand, which due to the problems in the north I will have to decline. He will also wish for Sansa to be wed to Joffrey, who is believed to be Ser Jaime's bastard, as are the rest of Cersei's children. I cannot allow any of my children to be betrothed or wed to any of them." Ned went on. "Jon and Sansa are to be wed tonight." he looked uncomfortable at his mother.

"I am happy with the match." she smiled, turning to Jon. "You will be good to her won't you, your grace." that almost stopped Robb in his tracks, something was amiss.

"Aye Lady Stark. I wouldn't do anything to hurt her. I'll die for her." he smiled at Sansa.

"What's going on?" Robb asked. "Why are Jon and Sansa being wed? We aren't Targaryen's." disgusted by the thought.

"Actually that isn't entirely true." Ned said, looking at Jon, who nodded in return. "Jon isn't my son, he's Lyanna's boy. Hers and Rhaegar's. They were married, Jon is a trueborn Targaryen."

"He's the rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms." Sansa added.

"Seven hells." Robb was stunned. Although it didn't explain all of the strange behaviours exhibited by his siblings, some of it now made sense. However, that raised more questions than answers. But for now the one thing which was ringing through his brain; Jon was never his brother and will now end up bedding his sweet innocent sister who was far too young for marriage. What he did want to know was why the hurry? "Why now?"

"I can't let either of my daughters near Robert. He'll want Sansa to marry to his son and it will not escape his notice how much Arya looks like Lyanna." Ned said sternly. "They need to be away from Winterfell when the King visits. I also need a Lord in the Gift to set up Queenscrown." he turned to Jon. "I take it you know Mance?"

"Aye."

"Do you think you can talk him into stopping the raids so that we can set up a place for them to stay?" Ned asked.

"I think a deal can be made. He won't kneel to me, I won't expect him to."

"Wouldn't Tormund be a better option?" Sansa asked.

Jon shook his head. "He might be able to sway Mance, but right now, neither of them have any reason to trust me." he looked at Robb's father. "I'll need you to write to the Lord Commander. I can't go alone, there needs to be some men with me. I know who I want to take, although it will require me to train them up myself. I'm not a King yet, but as warden of the north, you can request they be allowed to serve me instead of the watch. I can train them better than Ser Alliser. These are men I know I can trust."

Robb was confused, how did Jon know men at the watch? "How do you know you can trust them?"

"You'll know when the time is right for me to tell you." Jon smiled sadly. "But when I go north beyond the wall, I'll need you at Queenscrown to look after the girls."

Arya huffed. "Really?"

"It is for the sake of appearances. Two children cannot be left alone, regardless of your capabilities." Jon scolded her, which Arya clearly looked angry with. Robb glanced over at his mother who looked equally confused by the situation.

It was Sansa who seemed to realise there was some need for clarification. "Jon, Arya and I have knowledge of some future events. Which is why we have new abilities. Dragons are to be brought back into the world and the army of the dead marches on the wall. We were given the Sight." she explained. Robb looked to his father who seemed wholly comfortable with the explanation.

"How can you prove it?" his mother asked.

Ned held up a piece of paper. "I knew about this the day after we found the direwolves. Jon may not have even been dead when they told me. They also knew about Jon, even his name, where he was born. Things they couldn't possibly know. I promised I would trust them if what they told me came to pass, and it did."

Robb shouldn't have believed them, but he knew some forms of magic existed. Green-sight was a thing, albeit rare. He'd never known anyone with the sight. But something had changed so drastically in his siblings, seeing into the future made some sense, but only if they'd lived it. He hoped it wasn't the case, yet at the same time, there was an excitement to knowing what the future could hold. He decided not to dismiss their abilities for now, and only question the things they could do, not what they knew would happen. Let them learn to trust him before they open up. The problem Jon, Sansa and Arya would have was convincing their his mother; being from the Riverlands, they didn't hold magic in the same way as northerners.

"For now I'll believe you." Robb agreed. "Is this why you are all acting strange?" the three of them nodded.

"We have seven more years of knowledge and experience than our physical ages." Arya told them.

"There is no point in telling you your futures as they are going to change so dramatically that there will be no point. However, we will tell you later when it is certain there can be no repeat of our experience." Sansa said cryptically.

"That sounds...like there are some uncomfortable truths." his mother said cautiously.

"The long night is coming and the dead come with it. We must be in a position to fight, otherwise we will all be lost." Jon spoke with such confidence and presence, Robb suspected he had become the King he was supposed to be, which made far more sense.

"Is there anything else we could find out from the current situation?" my mother asked.

"Aunt Lysa has left Kings Landing. She has returned to the Eyrie with cousin Robin." Sansa replied, something was on the tip of her tongue as if she wanted to say something else but was holding back.

"After supper, we will all visit the Godswood. Jon and Sansa will wed. Of course there will be no bedding. On the morrow they will travel to Queenscrown." father explained.

"Can you organise the men to accompany them by the morrow?" my mother asked.

Arya smirked. "Mother, we have no need for help. Jon and I can handle ourselves quite comfortably."

"I have faith Jon is well-equipped in his sword-fighting skills, but you are still a child." mother frowned.

"Have you ever heard of the faceless men?" Arya asked.

Under normal circumstances that would be a strange question. The faceless men were legendary figures, able to disguise themselves as other people by killing them and using their faces. They were the ultimate and most deadly assassins. These people were cold, sinister killers, who had no regard for human life. A faceless man was supposedly able to kill with swords, daggers, archery, poison and cunning. If a faceless man was meant to kill you, then you would not survive. If this was what Arya had become, it would explain why she appeared so cold.

Robb nodded. "Please Arya, no."

"Jon and I are quite capable of looking after ourselves. Jon isn't quite up to his usual standards..." Jon rolled his eyes at the comment. "He's a bit skinny right now. Once he's built his strength back up, he's able to take on anyone. I doubt there would be anyone in the Seven Kingdoms who could beat him." Arya said. "So, as you can tell, we would be better going to Queenscrown alone, although the men will need to join us to start work."

Sansa turned to Robb. "I know you don't understand. One day you will. Jon and I are marrying because we have to, there is no other way." she glanced towards Jon who nodded his head.

"There are things that have to be done which none of us will want to do. Fights we don't want to fight, but fight we must." Jon told him. "People we love will die, maybe some of us in this room will fall before or during the long night. I can tell you not one of us survived it in what we saw. Not just in this room, but everyone in this castle will fall." Robb swallowed at the thought of what Jon was telling him. A story worthy of old Nan, but with the veracity of someone who had experienced it. "If we band together..." Jon continued. "And you trust in the three of us... This time, we might make it. This time, we know what to do and have time to prepare. Last time was too little too late."