Robb

Robb rapped his knuckles against the heavy wooden door.

"Come in!" his father's muffled voice called to him.

Robb, with Grey Wind at his side, entered into his father's solar, a room he had not been in too often while growing up. Once he had been old enough, the day after his fifth nameday, he had various lessons and training occupying most of his days. Then he had turned ten and he had been sent north to Karhold to foster with the Karstarks, who took over his lessons and training for five years. A wooden table sat in the middle of the room with several chairs around it. Hanging from one of the walls was a detailed map of the north drawn with great detail on the dried skin of an auroch. There were three large bookcases filled with leather bound books, and various chests and cabinets that held stacks of parchment, trinkets, and other items. The sole window in the room overlooked the Godswood, and another door led directly to the lord of Winterfell's bedroom, his father's bedroom.

His father was sitting at the head of the table, a worn piece of parchment the only thing in front of him.

"Maester Luwin said you wanted to see me," Robb said, stepping into the room.

"I did. Close the door behind you and have a seat."

Robb did as asked and took a seat near his father. Grey Wind laid down with a huff, sprawling over Robb's feet. He tried to recall yesterday after the King arrived if he had done anything that would cause his father to call him to his solar like this, but nothing came to mind. He had been polite with the royal family, and had escorted young Myrcella to their dinner table with perfect manners, just as his mother taught him. He laughed when one of the royal family members made a joke, even if it wasn't a good one, and made polite conversation. He had even danced with the princess when a tune had been struck, leading the younger girl across the dance floor in the steps of the traditional ceilidh dance of the First Men that every man, woman, and child in the North knew, but only few in the south had witnessed.

"The King has asked me to be his Hand and I have accepted," his father said, turning his gray eyes to look at his son.

Robb's eyebrows went up. He had finished his fostering at Karhold a few turns of the moon ago, and had looked forward to showing to his father how much he had grown and how much he had learned while away. Yet it seemed the old gods had other plans for after being so shortly reunited with his father, they would be separated again.

"You're leaving?"

"Not for another couple of sennights, but yes. I will go to King's Landing and will be taking Sansa with me."

Robb imagined that would please Sansa and her childhood fantasies of the southron lifestyle, away from the cold and harsher living of the north. She'd have the chance to hear more of those songs she liked to hear of true knights and their loves. So different from the songs commonly sung in the north that were more cautionary tales with lessons to be learned if you listened close enough to the lyrics. His father was another story. 'Starks don't do well in the south,' was a saying he often heard his father state when declining invitations to travel below the Neck and into the other six kingdoms; invitations to visit his good-family at Riverrun, or visit his foster father and foster brother in the capital.

"That means," Ned continued, "a few things for you. The first is that I have sent a raven to Lord Manderly asking to move up your wedding ceremony with his granddaughter. I know we were going to wait until your 16th name day but I would like to see my son married before I leave."

Robb felt heat rise up his neck and spread across his cheeks. Despite the constant teasing from Theon and Jon, he had been trying not to think of his upcoming marriage that had just a few moments ago been a few turns of the moon away. Though now, with the stroke of a pen and the flap of a raven's wings, it seemed to be only three to four sennights away. Wynafryd was a year older than him, and he thought her one of the prettiest girls he had ever seen. When they had first met, the fact that she was the granddaughter of Lord Too-Fat-to-Sit-a-Horse, and the daughter of his equally large son, had baffled him. How could one so petite be related to ones so large? He knew a lot was to be expected of their union. Not only did he need to produce a son to succeed him in taking over Winterfell, however many years into the future that would be, but he needed to have a second son to take on the name Manderly, to be Ser Wylis' heir and the eventual lord of White Harbor, the North's only city and port.

"The second is that in my absence you will be the Stark in Winterfell. The North will be yours to rule, though your mother and Maester Luwin will be here to provide you council, and I will always be a raven away should you have need. I thought I would have more time to teach you what it meant to be the Warden of the North, but fate has decreed otherwise. We will start your education today, so that when I leave you have the basics of understanding, and we will start it with this."

His father picked up the piece of parchment in front of him and held it out to Robb. He took the piece of parchment and looked it over. It was a list of things, some of which were crossed out.

"When I came back from the war, I realized that the North had been left weak. My father had turned his ambitions south in attempts to create alliances between the powerful houses, betrothing Brandon to House Tully and Lyanna to House Baratheon, and neglected much in the north. Neither my grandfather nor my great grandfather did anything to strengthen the North either. That meant almost a century went by of the North's power withering away. House Stark is only as strong as the North is, so I set goals to strengthen it."

Robb looked at the first thing on the list, which had been crossed off - Strengthen alliances with powerful houses.

"You fostered me with the Karstarks," Robb said, catching on to his father's thought process. "And betrothed me to Lord Manderly's granddaughter."

"And fostered Jon with the Umbers. Three of the strongest houses in the north. I gifted the new keep in the Rills to the second son of House Ryswell, increasing House Ryswell's loyalty and making its new cadet branch staunch supporters. And I made Lord Tallhart's brother the Steward of Moat Cailin."

"What about the Boltons, aren't they the strongest after us?" Robb asked. "Why exclude them?"

Ned grimaced at the mention of the Boltons. "There is too much bad blood between the Starks and the Boltons. I had thought of betrothing Sansa to Roose's heir Domeric, who I heard good things about from his time as Lord Redfort's squire but I could not bring myself to do it, knowing what I do of that family's history. The lad ended up dying at the start of the new year, so it would have been moot anyway."

Next on the list was Rebuild Moat Cailin. Robb had seen Moat Cailin twice as a young boy, when he had traveled with his mother to Riverrun shortly after Arya was born and then on the return journey. From what he remembered it was three broken down towers that guarded the Kingsroad, the only proper path through the Neck and into the North. His father had said a hundred archers at Moat Cailin could hold off a southron army of thousands if needed. He knew efforts had been made to rebuild the area and its defenses, overseen by Leobald Tallhart. Leobald's role as Steward of Moat Cailin was only a temporary endeavor, as Robb knew the plan was for one of his brother's to take over lordship of the area and start a new cadet branch of House Stark, like the Karstarks had once been and the Greystarks had been before they had been killed off after joining the Bolton's in one of the many rebellions started by the Flayed Man.

Third on the list was Fix the Kingsroad, the second item on the list to be crossed off. It was followed by a similar Connect the North by road, that was not crossed out. Fifth was Strengthen the western coast and was accompanied by Build new strongholds in the Rills, the Stoney Shore, and Sea Dragon Point. The Rills was the only one that was crossed off.

Finishing off the list was Build a navy, Repair and resettle abandoned keeps and holdfasts, Strengthen the Night's Watch, and Repair the broken tower. None of the final four were crossed off. Robb knew from personal experience that the Broken Tower was still broken as he saw it every day.

"Dad, you haven't done anything," Robb cried, looking up from the list. After realizing what he said, he felt himself flush with embarrassment.

Rather than be angry his father laughed, eyes crinkling with the movement. "Aye, it appears that way, doesn't it? Some of these have been worked on for years, and will likely take years more before they are finished. A road network connecting the entire north? That will be happening for another decade or three. And the unfortunate truth is that things cost money. I cannot use all of Winterfell's wealth on these projects all at once, as it would drain our coffers, and so must be smart about which ones I choose to do at which times."

Robb spent the rest of the morning listening to his father go over the plans that were actively taking place across the North under the guidance of House Stark, and what his expectations were to be in maintaining them.

At Moat Cailin the Children's Tower and the Gatehouse Tower were both repaired, and the Drunkard's Tower, which got its name from its great lean, had been torn down before it collapsed on its own. Two new towers had been built, including a twin to the Gatehouse Tower on the other side of the Kingsroad. A new wooden keep with stone foundations had gone up, replacing the one that had rotted centuries ago. Winterfell had also paid for the construction of an inn, a stable, and a smithy, the start of the town that would grow around the keep. Smallfolk had been attracted to the area north of the keep by the promises of a few acres of land to farm and call their own, but they were in charge of building their own houses, barns, livestock pens, etc. A curtain wall was in the process of being built to the south, across the causeway. A gate would then be built over the road, allowing them to shut off entry to the north if needed. There were also plans to surround the east, west, and northern sides of Moat Cailin with palisades, to offer additional protection in case their enemy arrived by ship on the coast, and to add another two towers, as records indicated there used to be twenty, but those would likely have to wait several years as they were low down on the importance scale.

Besides the Kingsroad, there had only been one other stone-laid road in the rest of the North and that was the one connecting White Harbor to the Kingsroad as it left the shadow of Moat Cailin, because besides the Starks, only the Manderlys could afford to build such a road. Roads made it easier for caravans to travel, and stone roads made travel easier than dirt. If House Stark wanted there to be an increase in trade in the north, they would have to make it easier for trade caravans and merchants to travel. So his father had paid for a road that had been built to Last Hearth from the Kingsroad, and was in the process of being extended to Karhold, a process that started over a year ago and would hopefully be finished shortly. It would be called the Last Road, after the river to its south. There was the hope of building a road from Karhold to the Dreadfort and from the Dreadfort to Winterfell, though his father's unease around Roose Bolton likely meant it would be years before talks of such a road started.

There was a dirt path through the Wolfswood that went east from Winterfell to the Crofter's Village, then north to an abandoned crumbling tower that Bran had named Tumbledown Tower, and then northwest to Deepwood Motte. His father had provided the coin to Galbart Glover to start the process of turning it to a proper stone road starting at Deepwood Motte, and he had been planning to start on the Winterfell end in a few sennights, with the goal to have the two sides meet somewhere in the middle of the Wolfswood. Now it would be one of the first things Robb would take over, the building of the Wolfsroad.

Robb's future good-father had been tasked with building and manning a series of longships to create the first northern navy since Bran the Burner had burned his father's fleet thousands of years ago. Wyman Manderly had eagerly accepted the task, and would be doing so with his own coin because operating his own navy brought him prestige and power no other northern lord had. The latest report from Lord Manderly had said there were ten longships and a galley already built, and he expected to double that in the next two years.

It was the western coast his father was having difficulty on the navy front. The Mormonts had two longships to help ward off raids from wildlings and Ironborn, but they didn't have the population or the money to support anymore ships. He had thought of the Glovers at Deepwood Motte, but they had the same problem as Bear Island, and the new keep his father had built in the Rills on Blazewater Bay, and given to Rickard Ryswell, second son of Lord Roderick Ryswell, therefore creating a new Ryswell cadet branch, was too new to have any type of money or large population at this point. And unfortunately the other endeavors of rebuilding Moat Cailin, repairing the Kingsroad, creating new stone roads to connect some of the major holdfasts, and building a new stone keep on the coast in the Rills, had drained the Winterfell coffers, and with winter approaching in the next three or four years, it would be unwise to drain the coffers anymore by building a small navy to sail the Sunset Sea. Besides, the only threat in that direction had been the Iron Fleet and it had been burned nine years ago, and Balon Greyjoy had been forbidden from rebuilding it, lest he wanted to be sent the head of his only remaining son.

There were others on the list that took a backseat to the more important ones, and would likely have to wait until spring came again before they could get started on, however many years that would be. Though strengthening the Night's Watch was something that could always be worked toward by sending new recruits and supplies that way. Though the ultimate goal was resettling the Gift with not only smallfolk but a few minor lords loyal to the Night's Watch.

The resettling of the abandoned keeps and holdfasts was one of them. Robb had been shown on the map all the abandoned castles, keeps, and towers in the North, and it had been an extensive list; Queenscrown, Farmbrook, Spyre's Keep, Tumbledown Tower, Sea Dragon's Lair, Snowhold, Starford, the White Tower, Brokenfort, Sheepshead Keep, Horn's Tower, Longhold, Seals Hall, Wolfmill, and the Knoll. And that said nothing of the dozens of smaller, wooden holdfasts in the area that had been abandoned over the years. The North needed people to populate the lands but with winter approaching it would be difficult to convince the southern smallfolk to want to move north. Not to mention any boost to the population of the North during the summer was quickly depleted by those who froze to death or died from starvation in the years of winter.

There was a loud knock on the door, and Ned bade the person to enter. The door was thrown open by Ser Arys Oakheart, before the Kingsguard stepped back. The King entered the room, his girth filling the doorway as he passed through it.

"Here you are!" the King boomed, startling Grey Wind who had fallen asleep sometime in the past few hours. "I've been looking for you half the morning!"

"My apologies your, uh, Robert. I've been teaching Robb here what it means to be Warden of the North, since I will be joining you in King's Landing. And it seems in doing so I've forgotten myself and have been a poor host."

Robert waved his hand in the air. "Nonsense, you're doing your duties as a lord. Besides, your brother has seen fit to occupy my time with tales of how poorly the Night's Watch is doing. All these years and I forgot he's just as dour as you."

"My brother does speak the truth," his father responded, ignoring the King's jest. "They only have a thousand men, if that. Not enough to effectively guard three hundred miles worth of wall."

"Damn good thing you're the Hand then," Robert said, with a smirk. "You can add helping the Night's Watch to all the other things you'll have to juggle."

His father grimaced, likely knowing the truth of the King's words.

"It is good you are here. I beg your pardon but I will not be able to accompany you when you return to King's Landing. I will have to make the journey at a later time."

"Oh? You aren't trying to pull a fast one are me, are you Ned? Hoping I'll forget all about you agreeing if you don't come with us?"

His father chuckled. "If only I was so lucky. No, Robb is to be married to Lord Manderly's eldest granddaughter. It was to be after his 16th name day but I'd like to be here to see it. I've sent word to Lord Manderly with the request to move up the wedding to as soon as he can ride to Winterfell."

"Congrats lad!" the King boomed again, slapping Robb on the back. Robb stumbled forward, not expecting the strength behind the King's hand. "Hopefully she doesn't take after her grandfather, if you know what I mean."

Robb knew what the King meant. "No your grace. She's very pretty," Robb said with a blush.

"Ha, good for you! Though I'll be the first to tell you beauty isn't always all it's cracked up to be in a woman."

Robb wondered what the King meant by that. The Queen was a beautiful woman and it appeared her courtesy and elegance was a match for said beauty.

"When was the last time you sparred Robert?" his father asked, changing the subject as he eyed the King's stomach.

The king followed his gaze, and patted his belly with his hands, a small grin on his face. "It's been some time, I admit."

His father stepped forward, and gestured to the door the King had entered from, where Arys Oakheart still stood in his gleaming white armor.

"Then come, let us see if the Demon of the Trident is still under all that … added protection."

Robert's laughter followed his father and the King as they went out the door and, likely, to the training yard. Robb had underestimated the King. Yes, he was a fat man who enjoyed his wine, but there was still a serious strength under all that added girth. Maybe it wasn't so hard to picture the man who he had just seen with the stories he had heard about the rebellion.

Robb looked down at Grey Wind, who looked at him with a tilted head.

"Let's go see what the others are up to."

He found Theon in the inner ward where the archery range was, practicing with his yew bow while Ser Rodrick barked at the newest guard recruits who were learning how to shoot a bow. The princes had been in the practice yard earlier in the morning to take lessons with Ser Rodrick, but without anyone their own age, with Robb occupied with his father, Jon being a bastard and so kept away from the royal family, and Bran not yet arriving from the Vale, they hadn't practiced any meaningful sparring.

"Have you seen the others?" Robb asked.

Theon gave one of his patented half shrugs. "Your sisters are likely with the Septa for embroidery lessons with the princess. No idea where Snow is."

"Are you going to stay here practicing?" Robb asked.

Theon confirmed that he would, as he notched another arrow.

His relationship with Theon had cooled a bit since his fostering. The older boy had become a fast friend of his when he had first been brought to Winterfell as his father's ward. Robb had been six at the time and Theon nine. Jon and Theon had also become friends of a sort, though Robb knew the thing tying their friendship together was himself. However, after four years of Theon arriving, Robb and Jon had been sent off to foster and Theon had been left in Winterfell with the stableboys and the like to keep him company. When Robb had returned he had expected their friendship to continue where it left off, and it had to a point. But there appeared to be something between them, something that Theon had allowed to alter his views of their friendship, as he acted a bit more indifferent then he used to.

With a shake of his head Robb set off to find Jon, Grey Wind at his side. Jon had been instructed by his mother to stay away from the royal family, so as not to offend them with his mere presence. That meant Jon would likely be somewhere the royal family was not to travel. That limited the places where he could be, and if Robb knew his half-brother half as well as he did when they were kids, he knew where to look first. He bent down and scooped up his direwolf, for though he had grown much in the forty days since they had found the pups, Grey Wind still struggled going up the steps. It wasn't that the direwolf was too small for them, it was more of the fact that the pup was hesitant to go up and down them.

The library at Winterfell had a few tables at the front of the room and then rows of shelves that stretched to the back wall. The first thing he noticed was Ghost sprawled out on the floor, his head picking up as Robb and Grey Wind entered the room. Jon sat at one of the tables, a book spread out in front of him but he was not reading it. Instead he was in conversation with the Imp, Tyrion Lannister, who occupied the chair next to him.

Ghost got up and approached Grey Wind, the two wolves sniffing at each other, as Robb walked past them and to the table where Jon and Tyrion Lannister sat.

They both looked up at his approach, and whatever conversation they had been having died down.

"Is this where you wasted the morning?" Robb asked.

"Is it afternoon already?" Jon asked, his eyebrows furrowing as he glanced out the windows.

"I fear our conversation lasted longer than either of us realized," Tyrion Lannister said. "I must take my leave."

Robb and Jon both bid farewell to the Imp, before Robb turned toward his half-brother with a curious look.

"I like him," Jon said, defensively.

Robb took the seat next to Jon, the one previously occupied by the Imp. Their direwolves began to play with each other, exchanging little nips as they tumbled over one another.

"I didn't say anything!"

"I saw it in your eyes," Jon muttered. "He's a better conversation than any of the others who accompanied the King."

"What did you talk about?" Robb asked.

Jon's cheeks reddened, either with embarrassment or anger, Robb did not know. Jon remained silent for a moment before he collected himself.

"He was telling me about growing up, as a dwarf in Casterly Rock."

Robb's brows furrowed in confusion, wondering why Jon was interested in such tales. Until he realized that growing up the dwarf son of Lord Lannister might not be that different than growing up the bastard son of Lord Stark. Both likely came with people staring and talking about you behind your back, mixed with those who were more bold in voicing their distaste directly to your face.

"Were you with father all morning?" Jon asked.

"Yes, he said he is to be Hand to the King, and will be leaving for King's Landing in a few sennights."

Jon's eyes widened. "Truly? But Starks don't-"

"Do well in the south." Robb finished. "He does not appear happy by it, but you know father and his honor and duty. He's trying to teach me about being the Stark in Winterfell. And, uh, he wants to move up my wedding."

The concern that originally had been on Jon's face made way for a teasing grin. "Seems your pining for sweet Winnie will finally be at an end."

This time it was Robb whose cheeks reddened. "I'm not pining for her!"

Jon had grown a bit out of his shell after his fostering, he was also a bit more crass than he used to be. Though things like that could always be chalked up to growing up and being a teenager, there was no doubt both of those changers were the influence of the Umbers.

"Oh sweet Winnie, how I yearn for you!" Jon cried, raising his voice an octave.

"I sound nothing like that!" Robb said, lunging at his brother.

Jon slid out of his chair, away from Robb's grasping hands, and ducked underneath the table. He popped up on the other side with a grin on his face. Robb hated that Jon had always been the faster of the two of them.

"We shall be together at last my sweet, sweet Winnie!" Jon mocked.

"You're dead Snow!"

Robb vaulted the table as Jon turned and ran out of the library. Ghost and Grey Wind stopped playing together as Robb chased after his brother and, after a slight pause, the two direwolves bounded after their masters.