Robb Stark liked to think he was a discerning young man.
That sense of judgement and ability to see the whole of a situation was a valuable trait that every highborn heir should strive to possess, especially when said highborn heir was to assume the mantle of Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North upon his father's passing.
His father Eddard had taught him that judgement was a thing derived from the closely entwined concepts of honor and justice that every man should strive to live by. Robb knew of and admired his father's will to follow where his judgement took him no matter the circumstances. He could see it every day in his life at Winterfell after all. For was that sense of honor not why his father had brought Jon Snow home to be raised alongside Robb even as it greatly upset his lady mother? Was not that equally strong sense of justice why his father had volunteered himself to take Theon Greyjoy in as a ward instead of allowing him to potentially die for his rebellious sire's attempted treason against King Robert?
And so even outside his lessons Robb endeavored to follow his father's example. He'd scolded his mother more than once for taking out her frustration for his half-brother Jon's existence out on said half-brother in disproportionate response to some perceived wrong he'd committed. And while he didn't approve of Arya's determination to fight and wield weapons like them, he'd also never tried to stop her from pursuing her interests as their sister Sansa had.
Seven hells, he'd even become good friends with Theon Greyjoy despite some personal reservations toward his…well, call it somewhat cavalier attitude toward intimacy and love.
But of late, things had become so much less clear and so much more muddled.
Arya's sickness had been terrible to behold, with his father and his mother visibly unsure of what to do about his formerly lively little sister. Than Jon managing to burn down a sept while also curing her through unexplained means left him further off kilter. Compiled by Jon announcing he had to leave Winterfell and travel across the Narrow Sea for purposes he had refused to elaborate upon.
That night, he and Bran and Rickon had confronted Jon to press true answers from him regarding his purpose in this quest and what had happened the night he'd burned the sept. Theon of course had joined them, eager as always to be at the front of any developments in the family that had taken him in.
Jon had refused for some time to answer Bran and Rickon, only telling them that he could not tell them what they sought to know. When at last the younger boys had left for their own chambers, Robb himself had only marginally better luck; getting Jon to admit that he was looking for answers regarding questions of faith and the practice of magic. Just when he was about to say more Theon had scoffed with a smirk on his lips and asked if perhaps the smoke from the fire hadn't addled Jon's brains. Following it by musing that perhaps he'd be better served by seeking the giants and children of the forest the Stark family's traditional wet nurse Old Nan had spoken of more than once and insisted lived beyond the Great Wall separating the North from the Frozen Wastes.
Robb glared angrily at Theon as Jon visibly and deliberately clammed up in response. He would get nothing further out of him that night. When he heatedly rebuked Theon for sabotaging his efforts to get Jon to open up after his half-brother left the next day, his father's Greyjoy ward had simply laughed lightheartedly before clapping a friendly hand to Robb's shoulder.
"Snow has to learn to smile sometime Robb. He keeps up that frowning, he's like as not to be more wrinkled than old leather." He drew Robb in close before continuing.
"Besides, if he can't take the time to enjoy himself when he's across the sea, how does he expect to find what he's looking for: whatever that may be?"
While the heir to Winterfell could truly see how Theon might've been that simple-minded in his pursuit to get Jon into a position of lightheartedness, he thought it much more likely that the Greyjoy ward simply did so because he couldn't resist an opportunity to nettle Robb's half-sibling.
It honestly mystified him why the two didn't get along since (aside from their respective temperaments) there wasn't that much they actively disagreed over. Admittedly that might've had something to do with the fact that they each avoided one another as though the other were infected with something contagious most of the time but that didn't mean they shouldn't try, especially seeing as how Robb considered them two of the people he was closest to aside from his lord father and lady mother.
Robb forgave Theon after several cycles of the moon. He would deny it under threat of death but the main reason he did so was because when he was avoiding Theon and with Jon across the Narrow Sea, he didn't have anyone he could talk to and feel like he was talking to an equal. A friend. Someone who he wouldn't have to set an example to or wouldn't be over-conscious of the fact that they were speaking to Lord Eddard Stark's heir.
He'd tried making friends with the children of his father's bannermen before. But he quickly discovered that even when they were trying to appear unguarded, most of them had the idea that he was the future Lord of Winterfell firmly fixed in the back of their mind. Perhaps this was childish of him, but he felt it created an invisible barrier between him and others even roughly his own age that prevented him from truly being friends with them.
Was it truly any surprise then that he threw himself headfirst into the lessons of lordship when people were already starting to treat him as such as soon as he began them anyway?
In any case, he'd allowed Theon back into his good graces and had gotten along quite well in the passing three years since Jon left. Rodrik Cassel had upped his training: even going so far as to dedicate one to one personal time outside their usual sessions. Maester Luwin's education in histories and matters of the mind continued as always. His father had even begun calling him to his solar so that they might speak about one of the matters that faced his rule of the North and asked Robb for his opinion. Their one to one discussions were rapidly coming to be some of the most cherished of Robb's interactions with his lord father.
But then Jon returned. That very first day Jon had come back home, he and Bran had happened to be practicing with the bow when there was word that Lord Stark had been seen in the company of a living direwolf and what appeared to be a peaceful wildling.
Robb had been gratified to discover his half-brother was seemingly healthy and hale: his beard and hair short but unkempt. Taking into account the additional dirt from an unknown amount of time gone without bathing and the threadbare clothes he wore, the eldest son of Eddard Stark felt he could see where people might've mistaken Jon as a wildling at first glance.
After Jon had taken a proper bath at the joking insistence of himself, Bran and Rickon and managed to put on clothing that didn't look as though it would fall apart at any moment, Robb had felt sure that things would return to the way they had at Winterfell.
He hadn't realized at the time how far from likely that was.
For one thing, Jon was now quiet even by the standards he'd set before leaving three years ago. And before he'd left Jon was perfectly capable of going without speaking for one or two days at a time. But at least then he would be capable of smiling or grinning if Robb or Arya managed to catch him off guard enough with a joke or a quip. Now though…
Now when he thought no one was looking Jon would gain a faraway look in his eyes. As though his mind were leagues away somewhere the rest of his family couldn't follow. Now he was prone to lapsing into quiet when not otherwise prompted by the others. When Robb had tried to talk to him about this after Jon had been in Winterfell for several days and showed no signs of settling back in, he admitted that the things he learned after leaving had changed him. That in the course of seeking his answers, he had seen things that Robb would not believe. And worse yet, he admitted that he had killed.
He refused to tell Robb how many. Robb knew he probably should've pushed Jon to open up about this with him but in all honesty: he couldn't figure out whether he was impressed or wary of that new aspect to Jon's character.
Robb put it out of his mind by continuing to spend his time in his lessons and with Theon or Bran when his younger brother had the time whilst hoping that Jon's extended time with Arya would serve as a balm to his troubled mind. The fact that it had brought the direwolf matriarch's litter into their walls and introduced Robb to his new companion Grey Wolf (as he had christened the young direwolf himself) seemed to indicate to him that perhaps Jon would be back to himself soon.
But then Sansa of all people had come to him with concerns about Jon's recent behavior and he knew that his hope was likely in vain. Sansa and Jon had never been what one could call close even before he left. So the fact that she had thought it concerning that Jon was apparently spending so much time in the wild or in the brothel at Wintertown was significant in the way his changed demeanor was obvious even to someone who had never been particularly close to him before. Robb promised her that he would speak with Jon and get to the bottom of his behavior. And truly he had intended to do so.
Yet things did not go as smoothly as he had hoped.
It had started simply enough. Robb decided that if he was going to talk to Jon about Sansa's and his own concerns, he would have to do so in an environment where Jon would not feel he was being cornered. This of course led Robb to conclude he should talk to Jon when next his bastard brother went to the Wolfwood outside Winterfell to spend time with the direwolf matriarch he called Frost.
The forest air was crisp but peaceful as he strode beneath the canopy of trees with Grey Wind by his side. The closer he came to the Godswood, the more he gained the feeling that he was being watched. Robb placed his left hand on the handle of his sheathed blade to reassure himself that if anything was watching, he was plenty capable of defending himself even as he knew it was unlikely anything bigger or more powerful than Grey Wind's mother was out here.
"Jon?" He called as his voice reverberated in the cold quiet of the afternoon.
He waited a few moments, waiting for Jon to answer him.
"Jon?" He called again.
Frowning as he noticed no unusual movements in the wood in front of him, he turned around to find Grey Wind bounding toward his mother with reckless abandon. Robb smiled as he watched his companion greet the matriarch with a loud bark and instant shift into a ready stance, all four legs tensed on the ground as though he expected her to test his reflexes at any moment.
At that moment, something sharp pressed into his back just beneath his ribs on the right side. Robb stiffened, trying to figure out what was going on. He hadn't heard anything. He hadn't seen anything. And apparently neither Grey Wind nor Frost had seen anything either.
"You're lucky that's not a more unfriendly dagger Robb." Jon called as he stepped out of the line of the trees, Ghost following sedately by his feet. Robb absently noted that both pups were getting to be roughly the same size as the hunting dogs despite their young age. Grey Wind was also apparently slightly shorter than Ghost.
Robb's direwolf companion barked a greeting at his littermate, relaxing when it seemed their mother wasn't about to test his reflexes. Which was likely the reason Arya's companion Nymeria chose that precise moment to pounce on Grey Wind's back, bringing him down with a startled yelp.
"Seems they really are just like us." Came Arya's mirthful observation from behind Robb.
"Where were you when I called Jon?" Robb asked, relaxing now that he knew he wasn't going to suffer an abrupt introduction between his back and a blade point.
The knife came away from his back and Arya came around in front of him, her ecstatic grin at odds with the fact that she'd just put the dagger held loosely in her right hand to his back.
"Right in front of you." She answered promptly as Robb took in the fact that she was wearing a tunic and trousers but no boots. He frowned as both of those facts registered.
"You know mother isn't going to be happy you're not wearing proper clothes? Not to mention you'll lose your feet if you let them know the cold like this." He reprimanded.
Arya rolled her eyes at his admonishment as she sheathed the dagger with the scabbard in her left hand before she turned to walk toward Jon.
"It's good training for her." Jon answered in her stead. As Nymeria and Grey Wind playfully tustled under the watchful eyes of Frost, Ghost decided now was as good a time as ever to lay down, placing his stomach flat on the ground while his front paws rested in front of him. His head was held straight as he too observed his siblings in front of him. In the meantime, the human who shared his name turned his attention to Arya.
"You did well to have the dagger already drawn when you were sneaking up on him." He praised before leaning back against the tree and crossing his arms.
"However, you also disturbed the brush enough that if he hadn't been paying more attention to Grey Wind he would've been alerted to your approach." He said.
"But that was why I waited for Grey Wind to bark before I came out." Arya countered, standing before Jon with a straight back and a defiant gleam in her eye.
"I knew I could get to him without making too much noise." She explained, gesturing toward Robb standing there as though he proved her point.
Jon shook his head as Robb walked toward them, not feeling appreciative that he was apparently an object lesson in…hunting? Assassination? Sneaking? For his younger sister of only thirteen namedays.
"It was too much of a risk. The point was to sneak up on him without making any mistakes." Jon gently reprimanded. He held up his right hand as Arya's mouth came open to argue the point with him.
"Don't misunderstand me Arya, you did very well to take Grey Wind and Robb's attention into account. But that wasn't what I asked you to do." He said.
"If you can account for making mistakes in a fight and minimizing the chance of them affecting the outcome, then you will be well served when things inevitably go wrong. But it's one thing to adapt with unfavorable circumstances and quite another to invite them an opportunity to flare up." He finished.
"The only thing taking unnecessary risks proves one possesses is a poor grasp of planning." He said, pushing his back off the tree as Robb came besides them as Grey Wind writhed on his back while Nymeria continued to trying and get a good grip on his neck, their jaws open as their heads feinted in one direction then the other as they tested each other's defenses.
"Jon, I need to talk to you." Robb interjected before Arya could argue against Jon's judgement of how she'd done at hypothetically assassinating him.
Both Jon and Arya looked at him for a moment before Arya took a step to his right as if to clear a path between the two of them without moving far enough away that she wouldn't hear what he had to say. Robb looked at her pointedly as though trying to convey his need to speak to their bastard brother alone. Arya looked back at him with a seemingly guileless expression.
"What did you need to speak with me about Robb?" Jon asked politely, coming to stand in front of him.
Robb glanced at Jon before deciding to hell with subtlety.
"Arya, I need you to give us some privacy." He said with all the bluntness of Rickon declaring he wouldn't eat anything the color of Shaggydog's leavings. (Their lady mother had been mortified when that pronouncement had left his youngest brother's mouth not a few days ago.)
"She's staying Robb." Jon contradicted.
"I need to talk to you about matters best not heard by her ears." Robb argued, turning toward Jon again.
"Is it about sleeping in the woods?" Arya asked.
"If I had to guess, I'd venture it's likely more about the brothel than the woods." Jon answered her. Robb's brows furrowed and his mouth downturned in a distinct frown.
"Jon!" He reprimanded sharply.
"What? After having to live with Theon Greyjoy all her life, do you really think it's possible for her to not know what whores are?" Jon asked with perfect seriousness.
"If it's about the whores, why is he talking to you about it?" Arya asked as she stepped toward them again, seemingly at ease with the topic of conversation in a way that made Robb seriously question what these two talked of when out of earshot with others.
"This isn't proper conversation for the young, especially a young lady!" Robb said heatedly, glaring briefly at Jon in promise that he would be receiving more of a verbal lashing once Arya was away.
Arya barked out a laugh as Grey Wind and Nymeria bounded into the woods, Ghost trailing close after them and Frost bringing up the rear: the inter-family dynamics of the humans her pups regularly followed apparently not that interesting to her.
"Haven't you listened to anything mother's been saying for years? I've never been a proper young lady." Arya answered with a slight grimace coming to her expression when she spoke the words 'proper young lady.'
"Never the less-" Robb started, unwilling to let her stay around.
"What is it about my frequenting the Wintertown brothel you wanted to talk about Robb?" Jon interrupted, his grey eyes fixed on Robb's sky blue.
Robb ran his right hand through his light brown hair and blew out an exasperated breath. He glared to his right at Arya again before deciding to go for broke.
"Sansa came to me with concerns about your behavior Jon. She thinks it unbecoming that you've started frequenting the brothel and preaching the strange fire religion you found across the Narrow Sea." Robb said. Jon didn't look inclined to speak up in his own defense quite yet. So Robb decided to try and convince him.
"I'm not going to tell you not to follow this faith that speaks to you." He said pre-emptively.
"But," He continued. "I do think she's right when she says it's not appropriate for you to frequent the brothel."
"Why?" Jon asked. "It seems as though every other day Theon seems eager to regale anything that stands still long enough about what he gets up to there."
"Theon's not my family." Robb answered. "He wants to go around spending all his coin on whores and wiling away his time between some girl's thighs, that's his business. But you're our father's son. If you start frequenting brothels and whores, it reflects poorly on us."
Jon's eyes grew slightly colder as Robb explained this.
"I don't frequent the brothel simply to sleep with women Robb." Jon said.
"I suppose you're going to claim that you're doing so in service to your faith?" Robb asked sarcastically.
Jon's right hand briefly clenched into a fist before relaxing again.
"And if I am, what business is it of yours or Sansa's?" He said. "I am a Snow. Lord Stark has never spoken of legitimizing me and likely never will. What does it matter what I do when my very existence is already a stain on the Stark name?"
"Oh for the love of- It's not like that Jon!" Robb shouted in exasperation. "You're still my brother! You could still hold a keep and land of your own! But what highborn would look beyond the discovery that you've been to whores and spread your seed carelessly?!"
There was a brief silence as Robb gathered his thoughts.
"I care for your future Jon. And whether you believe it or not, Sansa does too." Robb said softly.
"You just said to Arya that unnecessary risk is a sign of poor planning." He said. "And it seems to me that you can't possibly have a plan that requires you to risk tarring yourself with the brush of a whoremonger."
There was silence again before Jon spoke, his tone respectful but worryingly distant.
"I'll take your words into consideration Robb." He conceded. "In the meantime, Arya and I must get some unarmed combat practice in before returning to Winterfell. If you could leave us to it I'd be highly appreciative."
Jon was saying the words that meant Robb had won the argument. But why then did his tone seem to say the opposite? But without any idea of where things stood outside of Jon's oddly formal concession, Robb was faced with no other choice but to return to Winterfell and remind them that they couldn't be out too long before they would be expected back at Winterfell.
As he returned to the Stark ancestral keep, he mulled over the things he and Jon had said to each other in the Wolfwood. He stood by his feelings: Jon was not Theon nor was he family. He didn't need to spend his time or his money on whores when he could be learning more of leadership and battle so that he might earn a keep of his own one day under their direwolf banner.
As he came closer to the main hall, he saw servants moving with some greater speed than he had seen them do in recent memory. The last time they had moved like that, Lord Karstark and some of his family had come to Winterfell to discuss matters of import with his lord father.
Fortunately, he saw Maester Luwin moving through the hall ahead of him.
"Hold a moment Maester Luwin!" He called.
The grey hairs on the back of Maester Luwin's head were abruptly facing away from him as the balding man turned to face him.
"Who is coming to Winterfell that the servants must prepare for?" He asked.
"The King is north coming to see Lord Stark and intends to bring his family with him." He answered promptly, surprising Robb immensely. So far as he had known, the king had never left the capital after his own father had taken up his inherited mantle as Warden of the North following the civil war, let alone taken his queen and children with him.
"Winterfell is preparing to receive him and his family. The stores must be accounted for and the keep examined for possible renovation and restoration." Maester Luwin began to move away again.
"Your father is waiting in his solar to speak with you about it." He said before turning a corner and leaving Robb standing still in the hallway.
It took Robb a few moments for his mind to catch up to all he had just learned and all that Maester Luwin had just said. When it did, he gave his head a little shake and strode quickly toward his father's solar. With the royal family coming to Winterfell for the first time, he would need to offer his father every inch of help he could provide.
A/N: Man I got stuck for awhile on this. Fortunately I got through it, even if I'm not sure how strongly I ended it. Be sure to let me know what you guys think. For as always: your thoughts are the motivation that fuel my creative engine.