Willam watched with the other boys as Bran and Prince Tommen attempted to whack one another with their training weapons.
Father and his Grace thought to create some bonds between the sons, his Grace shouted that what better way to forge a bond than with training for battle at breakfast. He honestly thought a hunt would better fasten such things, so the King demanded a hunt too on the morrow.
The younger sons of both Lord and King were so heavily padded that their swings felt off, the wood swords already too heavy for them to swing with their little hands.
Robb, still sweaty nudged him on the arm, "Had any improvement with your swordplay, little brother?" Robb asked and Will couldn't help but shrug.
He wasn't incompetent in swinging a bit of metal but he was far from a trained soldier, "I can only ask not to laugh too much with whoever throws me to the mud." He said with a jest.
Robb frowned and patted his back, "I promise nothing, Will." Of course, Willam shook his head and turned to look up to Jon.
He attempted to get his brother to join them thrice but to no avail, Jon had been so nervous just being up on the dais with the King's family. He did his best to make him feel at ease while also trying to know the guests of his home.
The King was big, bigger than even Lord Wyman. The Queen was very beautiful, fitting for someone named the Light of the West.
Their firstborn son was honestly very arrogant, the way he fought his brother Robb just moments before Bran and Prince Tommen took to the ring showed he lacked skill (More so than himself) with the sword.
Perhaps he was better with a bow in his hand, maybe a crossbow instead.
Prince Tommen was as pudgy but more welcoming, just as his sire, and had become fond of the place like the Prince's twin sister, Myrcella.
She had become a constant companion to Sansa and Jeyne. Father and the King agreed upon some discussion to arrange a marriage between the Princess and Robb.
Willam remembered when the King announced it, the Queen looked livid from the dais and left the hall moments later with her daughter and sons. It's been three days since he returned home and he's yet to see the Queen smile since.
Robb seemed pleased, as any future Lord and Warden of the North would. The Princess was as beautiful as her mother, and as far as it is known no royal matches were ever made between the Starks and the current regime on the Iron Throne.
In his mind, this would do the North greatly.
"Would anyone like to go again, how about you, My Prince? Robb?" Rodrik said as Donnis and Hew helped Bran and Tommen back to their feet.
Robb moved back into the center of the ring, his brother already sweaty from the last bout but Joffrey moved into the sunlight, his hair shone like spun gold, and his face contorted with expressions of boredom, "This is a game of children, Ser Rodrik."
Theon shouted out that they were children.
Willam sighed thinking this was a waste of time as Joffrey and Robb took to insulting one another though it was subtle in the beginning.
"Robb may be a child, but I am a Prince, and I grow tired of swatting at Starks with play swords," Joffrey said calmly throwing his practice weapon to the ground to the laughter of the Lannister men that stand behind him.
"You took more swats than you gave, Joff." Robb wouldn't use the title to refer to the Prince, far too much pride and the pair didn't seem too fond of one another.
Rodrik cleared his throat to settle the blood from getting too hot. "What are you suggesting, my Prince?"
"I suggest a contest of live steel, I would show the wolves a lion has more teeth." He certainly has guts but can the Prince back up his bluster with action? Willam honestly thought it was foolish.
Dangerous accidents have happened when two hot-blooded heirs sparred with steel.
Robb eagerly accepted, "Done."
"Not done." He answered and Robb sent him a questioning glance, "You are both heirs to great families, it would be unfortunate should one of you die because the fight got too tense."
Rodrik hummed in agreement, "Willam is right, we spar with safety." Willam was glad that Rodrik was till able and sound when it came to dealing with rowdy boys.
A larger man than any of them puffed his chest out, his face scarred from what looked like fire and three black dogs running across a yellow field. "Who are you to deny your Prince? Are you training women here or warriors?"
"I am training knights, Clegane. I shall permit tourney swords with blunted edges."
Sandor Clegane turned to Willam's brother, "How old are you, boy?"
Robb remained defiant and puffed up, though Willam could see some fear in his elder's eyes. "I am fourteen."
"I killed my first man nigh a few years younger than you, and my brother even younger so. You can be sure it wasn't with blunted swords." Sandor claimed and Willam had to admit he was in awe.
How does a boy younger than his brother kill grown men? Certainly not in combat, perhaps with deception like a woman with poison though from the looks and height, it didn't seem so.
Robb was shamed, his pride hurt and he pleaded with Rodrik to let the King's son have the fight he desired but the knight stood his ground saying they may use tourney blades but not steel. This served to embolden the Crown Prince's bluster and ego.
"As I thought. Come along, Tommen. Let the children have their fun." To the choir of jeers and laughter, the Prince made off to the keep with Robb ranting and Theon backing him up.
Robb was steaming when his eyes landed on him, "Why didn't you back me, Will? I could've taken the cub."
"That cub is going to be your good brother." Robb scoffed as Willam continued, "How would the Princess think of her husband if you were to accidentally cut the fool's head off?"
His brother should take this time to get the Prince on his side, he looks very amiable and easy to please if one were to just 'fill his sails' with words of false praise.
Seven Hells, Joffrey may name his firstborn after Robb if he would just play the game.
The revolving rounds of politics are played in White Harbor though it is more subtle, there aren't people getting murdered or assassinated with poison like the tales are of the Game of Thrones, played at the center of King's Landing.
Robb scoffed again, "I doubt she would care enough, they don't look all too close considering they are twins."
"Not all twins are kind to one another. Look at the histories read about King Aerys II and Queen Rhaella to see that." Willam lent his hand and put it on Robb's shoulder. "Have you even spoken to her since it was announced?"
"We took a walk just yesterday around the Godswood, she seemed scared of the heart tree." Wouldn't anyone South of the Neck? Barring House Blackwood who remains one of the few Houses in the South to worship the Old Gods.
Robb sighed but Willam would not be deterred, "Spend time with her. Find something in common and stick with it."
"You sound like you've courted a maiden yourself, little brother?" His sibling was correct and Willam smiled thinking of Wyn, "Is it one of the Manderly girls?"
"Lady Wynafryd. She's intelligent and beautiful in equal measure."
Robb nudged him a bit, "Ask Father to make a proposal, you'll be a man soon and she sounds like someone he'd want to be his good daughter." Robb's right and he will, there just needs to be the right moment.
"I mean to before the King and him leave, so I can bring it to Lord Wyman and Ser Wylis."
As night fell the families gathered to feast another night though this night was a quiet one, the Queen wasn't in attendance and neither was her two brothers.
Robb and Joffrey were either scowling or throwing looks at one another, the issues between the heirs remaining unresolved for now.
Sansa was gossiping with Princess Myrcella and Lady Jeyne Poole. He was glad Sansa wasn't too upset, word was that the King initially chose his son Joff to marry into the family until their father changed his mind, so, she was insistent on getting to know her new and future sister.
He sat close to his littlest brother, Rickon.
The six-year-old was shy at first, scared and wary of being around the strange new brother he had never laid eyes on but Willam was happy to know him. Him and his direwolf who was named Shaggydog.
On the first night back he was ragaling his siblings in stories but the child was still wary, so he went into his things to try and break the feared tension.
"I got something for you, Rickon."
The youngest Stark widened his eyes, "A present?" He questioned shyly.
Willam smiled as he dug through the things he brought from White Harbor "Aye, cause you see I missed all of your name days up till now and it didn't sit right so here. I got it when a toymaker came to White Harbor from Braavos."
It was a knight astride a mighty steed, it was unpainted and he asked the trader to make it in the color of House Stark, "See? The toy knight's shield has a direwolf painted on it." The shyness seemed to evaporate as Rickon gave him a tight hug, as tight as a small boy could to his brother.
Now the boy was as stuck to him as Bael was during the day and shortly before the end of the night.