Robb was worn out from the relentless travel, yearned for the familiar comforts of Winterfell and Queenscrown. His family's absence weighed heavily on him, each mile travelled a reminder of the home he missed. The prospect of sinking into his old bed and indulging in a week of uninterrupted sleep seemed like a distant luxury.
Yet, as fate would have it, respite was elusive. He would only have two days in Winterfell before he hit the road again, bound for Queenscrown, where duty demanded his attention. Robb needed to convey the lords decision to Jon and Sansa in person as the nuances could not be discussed via raven. The stakes were too high for what they had planned.
Arya had accompanied him on the latter stages of his arduous journey. Robb sensed her discontent in Queenscrown without Jon's company. She couldn't get away from the place fast enough. However, they had met him on his return to Winterfell, therefore she was never able to visit any of the houses, although Robb suspected her reasoning was more of a ruse.
Despite the camaraderie the sisters now shared, he knew Arya still found herself at odds with Sansa. Though their bond had deepened since their arrival from the future, the clash of their personalities lingered, forcing a muted truce between them.
Surprisingly, Arya had grown astute in matters of politics. Her unconventional approach to dissenters involved a not-so-subtle offer: compliance or the threat of elimination. Initially dismissing it as jest, Robb couldn't forget Sansa's account of Arya's dealings with the Freys. Arya Stark had evolved into a force to be reckoned with, a stark departure from the girl he once knew.
Upon their arrival at Winterfell, Robb found his mother, Catelyn, in a predictable place—entangled in the affairs of the household. Her prolonged absence from Bran and Rickon had been noted, as well as her unwarranted meddling in Jon and Sansa's marriage, much to Sansa's chagrin.
In the courtyard, it was Catelyn who stood waiting. Her arms opened wide, tears welled in her eyes. "Robb, Arya." She called out, drawing them into a motherly embrace that only she could provide. "Maester Luwin, tell Ned the children are home."
"Yes, my lady," Maester Luwin acknowledged with a smile at Robb. Turning his attention to Arya, he addressed her with formal courtesy. "My lord," he nodded, then directed his gaze to Arya, "my lady." With a respectful bow, he retreated, sensing Arya's disapproval at being labelled a lady, a title that never quite fit her rebellious spirit.
As they walked towards their father's solar, Catelyn inquired about the meetings, concern in her gaze. "How did the meetings go, Robb?" she asked.
"As well as one would hope," Robb replied cautiously, avoiding delving into the intricacies until he could confer with his father, Jon, and Sansa. "The lords say they are amenable, especially with the promise of safeguarding their lands and the added incentive of tax relief. It allows them to bolster their defences if need be. And if Jon's plan unfolds successfully, it stands to benefit not just the northern lords but the Night's Watch as well."
Catelyn's scepticism lingered. "You place a lot of faith in your cousin." She remarked.
"As long as Jon can secure Mance's cooperation and involve Tormund in building up the Gift, it should succeed. I trust Tormund." Arya asserted with confidence. "He's a unique character, Robb. Funny yet fierce, and he spins some incredibly tall tales. There's one about him nursing from a giant's teat until he was ten..."
"Arya!" Catelyn said sharply.
"I'm merely recounting what I heard." Arya protested, holding her hands up and feigning innocence.
"Giants? That's a bit too fantastical for me. Sounds like one of Old Nan's tales." Robb laughed, playfully tousling Arya's hair, a gesture reminiscent of Jon's interactions with her.
"I hate to say this, Robb, but they are very much real."
"Have you seen these giants?" Robb asked.
"No, but Sansa has. She met Wun-Wun, who helped take back Winterfell. She said he was lovely. He died to save our home."
Arya seemed convinced by the story, but Robb remained sceptical. He had a difficult time believing giants existed, and the thought of them moving south of the wall unnerved him somewhat.
"Hmm, we'll see." Robb said as they reached their father's solar.
"You should both speak with your father. I will be returning to Queenscrown with you, Robb. I want to know what is happening with my daughter."
"Mother, stop interfering. You'll have a grandchild soon enough."
"I have no desire to be the grandmother of dragonspawn." She said, as the door opened, before they had the chance to knock.
Father stood waiting for them in the solar, where he and Arya both joined him. His mother was noticeably not invited, regardless of whether she wished to be. This suggested to Robb, there were underlying tensions between his parents.
The door closed, and Robb and Arya sat down, waiting for the briefing and for them to give theirs. Robb took out a leather folder which contained the signed parchments for Ned. Each house had signed four times, one copy for themselves, one copy for the Warden of the North, one copy for Jon and one copy for the Night's Watch. There were twenty-one in all, and although there were over twenty-one houses in the north, most of them were vassal houses. Robb had only needed the houses they were sworn to.
"Roose Bolton?" Ned asked, as Robb handed him the leather folder.
"Still breathing. Unfortunately." Arya said.
Robb ignored her. "He signed. Although, father, I think he might use this against you."
"As long as the Freefolk behave themselves, there's nothing for him to use against me. This is a business venture to help the north. Help us prepare for winter. Regardless of whether they believe the tales, there aren't enough men and women to farm the gift. It is fertile land. Why let it go to waste?" Ned said.
"True enough." Robb nodded.
"He'll still try to usurp you. He's sneaky." Arya said.
"I'm sure your sister is planning something right now." Ned said.
The meeting went off for some more time, before Robb and Arya were able to retreat to their rooms for some food, a hot bath and a comfortable bed.
The subsequent days were consumed by the meticulous preparations for the journey back to Queenscrown. Tensions lingered like a heavy fog, exacerbated by his mother's decision to accompany them. This appeared to be the underlying source of discord between his parents.
In Robb's private musings, he found a strange anticipation for Jon and Sansa to consummate their marriage. A peculiar hope simmered within him that this act might serve as a resolution, silencing his mother's persistent attempts to use their union as leverage for annulment. Neither Robb nor his father would entertain such a notion, but a completed, validated marriage would hopefully quell his mother's resistance, forcing her to acknowledge Jon as a member of the family.
The morning before Robb's departure to Queenscrown found him summoned to his father's solar. A flickering fire and the aroma of ale suggested a departure from the formality of their usual discussions. Taking his seat in the worn wooden chair, Robb awaited his father's words, the gravity of the room heightened by the warmth and the promise of shared confidence.
"I thought it best to bring you up to speed on the matters of the realm, a particular incident in particular. I received the raven only this morn." Ned spoke, offering Robb a scroll.
Unfurling the parchment, Robb's eyes scanned the contents.
His most gracious, strong and brave majesty, King Joffrey I, has defeated the usurper Stannis Baratheon. His most disgraced uncle attacked in the middle of the night, with a fleet of ships. However, King Joffrey had enough foresight to be prepared for such a battle. Stannis has been defeated, and he is currently being held in the black cells under the Red Keep, as do his wife and daughter.
Robb looked up at his father in shock. Sansa had told him of the Battle of the Blackwater, but Stannis hadn't been captured, something had changed the time of the events. Robb gazed down and continued to read.
As Warden of the North, King Joffrey demands you attend his wedding to Margaery Tyrell in Kings Landing, where you will swear fealty to him and his family. The wedding will take place in four turns of the moon.
Robb carefully placed the letter on the table, contemplating the gravity of the news. "Have you sent a rave to inform Sansa?" he inquired, his concern etched across his face.
Ned shook his head. "It seems to match your sister's account of the battle, the one involving Tyrion and wildfire." Ned replied, a sense of recognition colouring his words. "But if Stannis wasn't captured, and Selyse and Shireen are in the black cells, it suggests a different turn of events. Joffrey must have struck Dragonstone while Stannis was attacking Kings Landing."
Robb nodded in agreement. "Arya didn't witness any of it, but Sansa will have the full account. I'll speak with her when I get to Queenscrown. Things have indeed changed. You're not planning to go to the wedding are you?" he asked.
"I'll make preparations, just in case," Ned responded. "But I'll await Sansa's word. Jon's return from the north is pending, adding to the precariousness of our position."
His father then revealed a copy of the letter, a missive for Robb to take north. Concern etched in his features, "How swiftly can you reach Queenscrown?" The urgency of the situation demanded a prompt response, and Robb understood the weight of the task at hand.
Robb considered the logistics with a measured nod. "Normally it takes around a moon's turn. If I ride alone, I can manage it in a fortnight. If the weather favours us, and Mother accompanies me, we might reach Queenscrown within three weeks."
Concern etched his features, as Robb needed to know of his mother's knowledge of the situation. "Does Mother know?" he asked.
"It's probably best she remains unaware for now. All we can hope for is Jon's return by the time you reach Queenscrown. If he is, we must start our preparations. Once Joffrey realises I'm not in King's Landing, questions will arise. He'll insist I send you down to the capital to swear fealty. I need you to keep this secret," Ned explained, the weight of the request palpable.
"Won't the other houses catch wind of it?"
Ned shook his head. "Tywin knows it's only me who has to swear fealty. Though I suspect he'll be vigilant, watching for any northern house that might betray our allegiance."
"Does Joffrey or Tywin have reason to fear you might betray him?" Robb asked.
Ned shook his head solemnly. "None. Which means we need to remain calm and hope Jon has returned to Queenscrown by the time you arrive."
Robb's frown deepened as the weight of the situation pressed upon him. "The Battle of the Blackwater should have happened moons ago, if what Sansa says is true."
"Aye," Ned acknowledged. "I've pondered that as well. Times may have changed in the capital. The Tyrell forces hadn't yet aligned with the Lannisters in Sansa's account."
"Events here are different, which has affected Kings Landing." Robb concurred. "Bran didn't face an assassination attempt, Mother didn't abduct Tyrion, and I didn't go to war because you were unjustly executed by that tyrant."
"Stannis lacked the strength to assail King's Landing. He had to seek the Iron Bank's support, but it appears to have come to naught. Do not discuss this matter with your mother. It must remain a secret, at least until Sansa is informed," Ned emphasised, ensuring Robb understood the gravity of the situation requiring utmost discretion.
"Should we be preparing to reveal Jon's true identity?" Robb questioned, sensing the impending storm.
Ned nodded solemnly. "Aye, I think we should. We'll wait until after the wedding, see if we receive a summons. I'll keep silent for as long as I can. Jon needs time to gather the Freefolk below the Wall and have them ready to fight for him."
Concern etched Robb's features as he pressed further, "Any word from Sansa or Castle Black on Jon's journey to Queenscrown?"
Ned shook his head. "Not yet. He's been gone just over fifteen moons. Unless something's amiss, he should be back well before the wedding."
"We can only hope. In the meantime, he has the delightful task of charming Mother." Robb remarked, a touch of wry humour softening the gravity of the situation.
Ned chuckled, "I think pigs are more likely to fly than your mother warming to Jon in that time."
Robb laughed in agreement, rising from his seat. Father and son stood, and Ned embraced Robb tightly. "Anyway, son, you best get going. We can't have Sansa waiting too long. I hope to see you soon."
"Goodbye, Father. I look forward to my return, though I fear I may find myself in the middle of a war before then."
"I wish you good fortune, Robb."
"You too, Father." Robb replied, and they left the solar together so Robb could bid the rest of the family farewell.
The journey north unfolded smoothly, taking three weeks of favourable weather and a small entourage that facilitated swift camp setups. As Queenscrown emerged on the horizon, Robb couldn't help but be taken aback by the changes. Sansa's touch was clear in the alterations made to the once-familiar landscape.
A brisk wind had picked up during the last hour of their journey. That along with dark skies, a rumble of thunder in the distance suggested a storm loomed large, adding an air of foreboding to the keep.
Upon arrival, they were met by Theon and an older man with silver hair. Arya had informed Robb that Ser Barristan Selmy had established a Kingsguard for Jon. The presence of the silver-haired man confirmed it was him. The genuine smile that graced the man's face upon seeing Arya hinted at a shared camaraderie, but his expression soured slightly at the sight of Robb's mother. Robb couldn't help but wonder if the old knight was aware of the tensions between his cousin and Lady Stark, explaining the subtle shift in his demeanour.
Ser Barristan inclined his head respectfully. "Lord Robb," he greeted.
Robb returned the gesture with a smile. "Ser Barristan the Bold. I am honoured to make your acquaintance."
"I have heard many impressive things about you, my lord. Princess Sansa spoke highly of you." Barristan replied with a courteous nod.
Catelyn, eager for news of her daughter, looked around. "Where is Sansa?"
"The princess has gone picking apples in the orchard, with his grace." Ser Barristan informed them. "They wished for some privacy." The comment elicited a suppressed cough from Theon, who attempted to conceal his amusement.
"Jon is back?" Robb asked.
"That he is, my lord." Ser Barristan nodded.
Catelyn, casting a stern gaze at Ser Barristan, questioned. "Are you not his Kingsguard?" The tension between them was there in the way she spoke, for Robb knew it was not the welfare of Jon she was concerned with.
Ser Barristan's emphasis on privacy regarding Jon and Sansa's return caught everyone's attention. "His grace returned only yesterday. They were accompanied by Ghost, and Lady set off only half an hour ago to join them," he added.
A sudden clap of thunder, accompanied by lightning, startled the group, emphasising the building storm's intensity.
Theon, the temporary host, stepped in. "Your rooms are ready. I'll show you to them. They'll be back in time for supper. It will give you a chance to settle in and have a bath." The promise of shelter and warmth in the face of the approaching storm was a welcome relief.
As they sought refuge indoors, the sky opened up, unleashing large drops of rain that swiftly transformed the courtyard into a growing pool. Arya marvelled at the sudden storm. "Seven hells, look at that. I haven't seen a storm like this for a long time."
Catelyn, however, couldn't help but express her concern. "I hope Sansa is alright. How could he have been so stupid to allow her to go out in weather like this?"
"When his grace and the princess left, the skies were blue, not a cloud in the sky, nor a breeze in the air." Ser Barristan explained. "The storm has come on rather rapidly."
"They'll need to stay in a cave in this weather." The man said. "I doubt it will be a hardship for the pair of them." He smirked. "I'm Tormund Giantsbane, this is Ygritte." Tormund introduced himself.
"You're from the Freefolk. The ones Jon brought from north of the wall." Arya said, eyeing Ygritte warily.
"We are." Ygritte replied, her tone far less friendly than Tormund's.
"Jon will keep her safe. Ygritte and I taught him well. He knows how to survive beyond the wall. A bit of rain will be nothing for him." Tormund reassured them.
"It isn't Jon I am worried about," Catelyn raised an eyebrow. "Sansa is far more delicate than he is."
Arya, seemingly more pragmatic, rolled her eyes. "Jon, Ghost, and Lady will keep Sansa safe, Mother."
"He better not dishonour her." Catelyn snapped.
"Mother, they are married. As long as he doesn't hurt her, which Jon won't, they can do whatever they like," Robb insisted, inwardly smiling. Perhaps this storm was a blessing in disguise. "Come, Mother. Let us get warm, bathed, and fed, and await their return."
His mother nodded as they made their way to their rooms, seeking refuge from the storm and to await the safe return of Jon and Sansa.