Chapter 82: A mentor passes

26 AF

Bran

He had finally made it to Winterfell. Only a few had made the trip, as they were in the middle of winter. The Kingsroad had been snowed under and most of the fields were frozen over. The journey had been horribly difficult, but he, Alyn and their handful of companions had made it.

He hadn't made the terrible journey for nothing. The death of his childhood hero had struck him hard, and he hadn't even contemplated staying in Moat Cailin with his family. His wife Bethany would rule Moat Cailin well-enough until his return.

He immediately felt warmer when he passed beneath the gray granite walls of his ancestral home. In the courtyard, he and his six companions were greeted by his nephew Rickard. The Crown Prince grabbed him in a hug once he got off his horse. "Uncle Brandon, it is very good to see you!"

Summer sniffed at Ash, and soon the two direwolves were happily playing besides them. "It is good to see you too, nephew. How is the rest of the family? How did they take the news?"

Rickard's face fell. "Hard, uncle. I did as well. He had been mentoring me for the past three years, on top of the lessons he sometimes gave me during my childhood. Four hours every week I had been spending with him without exception, ever since the news of Uncle Edmure's death came in."

He nodded. "How is my mother doing?"

"She hasn't taken it well. For two weeks all she did was ramble about how he should be given a Tully funeral in a boat upon the Red Fork. This was crazy, of course. We couldn't transport the body to Riverrun even if we tried. Besides, Uncle Brynden himself had long since agreed that it would be impossible. This funeral was his idea." A small smile crept up in the corner of his nephew's mouth.

"His idea?" He asked.

"Aye, it was." His nephew replied, before continuing in a decent impression of their late uncle. "I have served you half my life, Robb. Why not serve you in death as well? Make a ceremony out of it for all future Wolfsguard or just for the commanders. I don't care either way. Just say some kind words about me when the time comes. I think I deserve that much."

He smiled at the words, as they were very clearly his old mentor's. He had always had an uncaring attitude around him, but all could see that he loved his family dearly.

"How is your father doing?" He finally asked.

Rickard went through his beard as he stared in front of him. "He seems to be hiding it well, but I believe he is distraught. He stays alone in his solar for longer than usual and has been taken more frequent trips to the Godswood."

"Aye, that's what I thought. Your father won't show any weakness, but Uncle Brynden was his biggest supporter throughout his reign. When the war first started, Robb planned to free our father with the help of Lord Karstark, who was like a second father to him. They were the mentors of his childhood." He told his nephew.

"However, our great-uncle soon proved his worth from the start. After both father and Lord Karstark were killed by the Lannisters, Robb started to put more and more trust on the Blackfish. By the time they got back to Winterfell, he had become his second most important war companion after Jon. During peacetime and for the protection of his family, our uncle quickly grew to be the most important one. Robb valued his advice highly, and he even told me that he would have lost certain battles were it not for his scouting or battle plans."

The Crown Prince listened and nodded along with what he told me. "Aye, I only realized this too late. Three years ago, during the Tully debacle, I realized the importance of having a Riverlander mentor for the future of my reign. That is why I spent so much time with him since then. He was as gifted a teacher as he was a commander or knight." Rickard praised.

He smiled and quickly agreed. "Aye, that he was. Those few months that I spend under his guardianship in Riverrun before the war have been some of the best of my life if I look back at it. He gave up his position of Knight of the Gate to tutor me, I will never forget that."

Both talked a little more, before heading towards the Great Hall. Inside, he found most of his family, although Robb was nowhere to be seen.

He and his companions were quickly brought ale and a hot meal. He gobbled it down quickly, thankful for the warmth it brought his body.

Eleven-year-old Margaret quickly ran over to him, together with her direwolf Dancer. Dancer and Summer jumped around, happy to see each other. Soon, half a dozen more direwolves joined in the ritual.

"Uncle Bran!" His niece called out loudly, as she ran closer. He knew what she wanted, and he would oblige. He stood up from the bench and caught her as she jumped towards him, he twirled her around as she filled the Great Hall with laughter. After a little while, he put her back on the ground with a smile.

"Isn't our niece getting a little too old for that, brother?" Arya asked strictly, but her eyes betrayed her approval.

"This little girl? No, she is light as a feather. I could do this for years to come." He replied, as he winked to his little niece. She giggled loudly, exclaiming her approval at the idea of years of twirling around still to come.

"It is good to see you, brother." Arya voiced, as she grabbed him in a hug. "Mother will be happy to see you. You always were her favorite. The Gods know that she needs some happiness right now."

"I always thought her favorite was Sansa." He responded, while raising an eyebrow.

Arya laughed. "No, she was way too perfect as a little girl. That got boring, even for our mother." Now both were laughing loudly, and soon the rest of the family had gathered around him to greet him, as Arya went on to greet Alyn.

First came Arya's family. All of them had come to Winterfell to pay their respects. It helped that they were the closest house to it, but it still made a great show of support. Lord Cley came first, and they clasped arms amicably. Lord Cerwyn had been good to his sister throughout the years, and he was an enjoyable fellow to have around.

Afterwards came his seventeen-year-old heir Medgar. The boy had grown a lot since he had last seen him two years ago, both in size and width. His arms and shoulders had filled out, and his legs looked as strong as tree trunks. The boy was a friend of his son Brynden and seemed a reliable young man. He looked inside the boy's Stark eyes that he had inherited from Arya, as they changed pleasantries.

Behind Medgar came his two younger brothers Eddarion and Robard, the twelve- and ten-year-old boys greeted him happily, quickly asking if he would show them some sword tricks the Blackfish had showed him in the past. Touched by the gesture, he quickly agreed.

Behind them came Arya's only daughter Jonella. She walked up to him together with her Aunt Alys. He greeted his niece, before making a slight bow to his sister-in-law. "My Queen."

"Oh, bugger off Bran! You have spent way too much time in the South for your own good. You know that I hate those fanciful titles and bows. I have to endure them by over half our subjects, I don't want to have to endure them from my brother-in-law as well." She scolded him.

He laughed in response, and simply grabbed her in a hug. Behind her came her second son, Jon Stark. The boy was fifteen, the same age as his son Brynden. Both were as thick as thieves, a thing which brought joy to the whole family.

"Has Brynden come with you?" His nephew immediately asked him, but he had to disappoint him.

"No, Jon. Brynden still remains in the Riverlands with his mother's family. His time to foster is not yet over, but it will be over before you know it. In a few months, he will come North. I will make sure that he visits you immediately after seeing his mother." He replied. This seemed to disappoint the boy, although he clearly understood and eagerly accepted his proposal. Jon then went on to greet Alyn Blackwood, who he knew well because of his time spent with Bryn.

Rickon was next. He hugged his little brother warmly. "How is Moat Cailin, brother?" He was asked.

"It is good. The population was well-prepared for winter. They will pull through." Rickon nodded at that. "That's good to hear. Robb will be pleased."

At that time, five-year-old Vala became visible from behind her father. "Uncle Bran!" She voiced happily, as she walked over to him together with her friends. She had become good friends with Lyra Cassel and Lyessa Poole and the two younger girls followed her everywhere.

He smiled at Rickon's daughter. "Hello there, Vala." He replied. She motioned to her father to pick her up, which he did without delay. Vala hugged him lightly when she was eye to eye with him. "Very well, uncle! I play a lot with my friends Lyra and Lyessa. We made snow figures last week with father!"

He smiled fondly and winked at his younger brother. "Fatherhood suits you, Rickon."

"As long as you don't start about me marrying, I'll take that as a compliment. I don't know how much longer I can hear Robb and mother talking about it without Uncle Brynden to back me up." He sighed. He understood. The Blackfish's refusal of marriages had been notorious, and because of this he had become Rickon's natural ally against Robb and mother. To his knowledge, it had been the only deep running disagreement that his brother and great-uncle had had throughout the years.

He looked down and said hello to the two little girls that were awkwardly waiting on Vala next to Rickon. Lyessa Poole was the oldest of Osric Karstark's two granddaughters, whilst Lyra Cassel was Edrick Cassel's daughter.

Edrick had assumed leadership of House Cassel with the aid of his mother Jonelle, after the death of Ser Rodrik Cassel. He had married Raya Poole, a daughter of Osric Karstark and Jeyne Poole, after he had returned from Essos with Rickon. This made the two girls in front of him cousins and important minor nobles in Winterfell's court.

Edrick's older brother Martyn had long since taken control of the lordship of Hayford, after matrilineally marrying the heiress. He had left his ancestral lands to his brother, whilst he turned himself into an important noble in Blackwater Bay. Some minor nobles from around Winterfell had joined him there, as well as a few hundred peasants that had followed him south. His sister Lyanne Cassel had accompanied him south and had married an important landed knight sworn to the Hayfords.

"Where is the rest of the family?" He asked his little brother.

"Jon and his sons are stuck in Dragon's Lair because of winter, they couldn't make the trip home in time. His daughters Lyanne and Wenda are also stuck with their families in Torrhen's Square and Flint's Finger." He understood that. He was lucky to have the Kingsroad, snowed under as it was, they didn't have roads like that even if Robb had improved their network significantly.

"Sansa's family is much the same. They can't make the trip here. Apparently small trouble has arisen in the Bolton lands and both Lord Domeric and their son Belthasar are needed to quell it, although he ensures Robb that he has everything handled. Her daughters are stuck with their husbands in Karhold and Hornwood."

"Robb's eldest girls also won't be making the trip either. Sarra and her husband Ser Jeffory Mallister have send their condolences, as have the rest of House Mallister. Berena will remain with her Royce husband in Runestone. Both the husband Allard and his father Lord Andar have sent condolences as well."

"Edda won't be coming either. She originally wanted to, but the recent death of Lord Robett Glover prevents her or her family from coming to Winterfell." His brother finished.

He nodded. Their family had become very large. It had become almost impossible to have everyone in Winterfell, in winter the idea alone seemed ridiculous. Robb had had six children, Arya and Jon four and he and Sansa three each. Only Rickon had kept it at a single daughter, although you never knew whether his younger brother would conceive another bastard child or not.

He finished his meal talking with Rickon, Alyn and his nephews Rickard and Jon. Afterwards, he went looking for Robb. He found his brother in his solar looking over scrolls and maps concerning the Riverlands.

"How are you, Robb?" He asked his elder brother.

The head of their house looked up at him. His stare was dull, and he had large bags under his eyes. To his shock, he realized that his brother had recently been crying.

Without saying a word to each other, he pulled out a chair and sat in front of him. He could immediately guess what had happened. His brother had been thinking about their great-uncle and had felt emotional. He had hated the feeling and had thrown himself on tackling the problems in the Riverlands to distract him instead.

"What is going on in the Riverlands?" He asked him. Robb looked thankful that he didn't ask any questions.

"The smallfolk seem to be surviving winter well-enough. All stores were full and occasional food transports are still coming into Duskendale, Maidenpool and Riverport from Essos."

"That is very good to hear. What is troubling your mind then?" He asked.

"The strife between our cousins. We are monitoring the Tully situation but have received some confusing information lately. For the last three years Oscar has been meeting and allying himself with Riverlords in the Western and Central Riverlands. Even though, no sounds remotely suggesting rebellion are heard."

"As you know, he has married a daughter of House Vance of Wayfarer's Rest and has recently had a son. To make matters worse, he has called him Edmure, before his elder brother Hoster had a son. His Bracken cousins, as well as Houses Piper, Terrick, Keath, Lolliston, Grell and Shawney have been visiting often. Mostly smaller lords, but not insignificant if you put them together."

"Your spies in Harrenhal reported this?" Robb nodded. "Berthan managed to get multiple spies inside the keep and emerging town. Two of them have since gone silent, suggesting that Oscar is looking for them and has found some of them. However, the others have kept reporting everything."

"You say that nothing is suggesting rebellion? Why are you so concerned with it now then?" He asked.

"Because I received word last week of a visit of Elmar Tully and the heir to House Piper to Harrenhal. The youngest Tully and the entire Piper retinue left in anger the next day. We don't know what was talked about, but it seems that both brothers fought amongst each other." Robb explained.

"That's peculiar. Have we any other spies reporting to us?"

"We tried to insert spies in Stone Hedge, Pinkmaiden and Wayfarer's Rest, but all attempts failed or were discovered within the first two to three weeks. The risk of angering these lords with further attempts is too great, so we have stopped trying for now. A rebellion needs someone to rally around, and Oscar Tully is the clear leader of a possible future rebellion. As long as we keep getting information from Harrenhal, we won't have to be surprised."

"Good." He replied. "How is the rest of the North faring during the winter?"

"We are doing very well, considering the short summer. The only danger areas for now are in the northwest. Jon's lands and the mountain clans, as well as the Glovers and Mormonts. However, I had additional supplies sent to Sea Dragon Point, the Wolfswood Clans and the mountain ones just before the beginning of winter. For now, it seems enough. Jon and Edda are monitoring the area for me, but for now everything seems in order." Robb answered.

"That is very good news. Is there any possibility of extra supplies going over sea?"

"For the Mormonts and the clans that is a definite no. Large swaths of the Bay of Ice have frozen over. No ship will be able to sail through it. The voyage to Deepwood Motte is almost equally as dangerous. Dragon's Lair is different, as it is situated on the westside of Sea Dragon Point. This is towards the open sea. The waves are dangerous and cold, but not impossible to sail. The only ones willing to do so on a regular basis are the Ironborn and they are occasionally visiting Jon with shipments of grain from the Westerlands. It helps him and the more southern Shields and Ryswells, but neither the Mormonts, Mountain Clans or Glovers will be helped because of it."

He nodded in understanding. Normally, things could then be transported over land. However, the roads had all but disappeared under multiple feet of snow and carts regularly got stuck under it. Sending regular supplies in this manner was out of the question.

"How is Moat Cailin doing?" His brother asked him.

"Very well. We have come a long way since you made me the master of its lands fifteen years ago. I have recently made a total assessment of the area. Due to immigration from the rest of the North and the higher natality rates, the population has risen from the original native twenty-five thousand to almost forty-five thousand. Five hundred of these migrants have been Old Gods believing Riverlanders, who have moved into Alyn's lands."

"Are they integrating well?" Robb asked.

"Aye, over a quarter of them have married a Northern partner and we see amongst those that recently came of age that the ratio is much higher. We expect that well over half of the future generation will be mixed marriages. They will be integrated in no time."

"Good to hear. I don't want any problems like those in the Riverlands arising in the North as well." Robb told him.

He nodded understandingly. "The village beneath the fortress has grown to over four hundred people. Of the fifteen thousand immigrants, three quarters have settled in the areas that we haven't set aside to be controlled by lower nobility. Thirty percent of the population now lives in those areas directly controlled by me, whereas before it was less than ten percent. Agricultural production has shot up, and I have managed to create a small, but loyal and effective, guard of almost a hundred men."

Robb nodded approvingly. "You have done a great job, brother. This will also strengthen your own position significantly. What about the local noble families in the area? How are the six original ones and the seven ones we raised doing?"

"The seven new ones are quickly intermarrying and are loyal and frequent visitors of my court. My influence on the old families is somewhat different. Before I arrived, four of them had been focused on the Manderlys, with the remaining two had been under the influence of the Dustins." He started.

"Two of those focused on the Manderlys have turned completely towards my rule. They have married their daughters to the new families and are betrothing their sons as well. One of them has betrothed their twelve-year-old heir to Alyn's nine-year-old daughter." Robb looked pleased but didn't interrupt him.

"The other two Manderly families have pulled back even more upon the Manderly lands. They see the other families as intruders and me as a danger to their autonomy. They pay their taxes, but apart from that they try to have as little contact with me as possible. They have even reduced their dealings with the two families that have integrated well."

Robb frowned. "It has only been fifteen years. Some aversion was to be expected. They will soon realize their mistake, especially after their relative power shrinks due to increased population rates and trade amongst the newer houses. How about the other two?"

"The remaining two are situated in the northwestern area, geographically more distant from the other families. They have integrated somewhat, both families having made marriage alliances with the newer families. Alyn married one's daughter, while the other's younger brother married a new master's sister. Yet, they remain largely focused on their neighbors in the Barrowlands. Both heirs have recently been betrothed to daughters of smaller Dustin vassals." He finished.

"Those will come along, although it will take a while longer. You have done a fine job, Bran. How is the fortress?"

"All works have effectively been suspended these past years because of the winter. The three towers have been furnished and are being used permanently now. Stables, guardhouses, granaries, a hall, and other essential buildings are dotted around the area. The ten-year-old palisade wall has been strengthened further and plans are made to first construct stone towers where needed, before replacing the entirety of the structure with a stone wall when the funds arrive from Winterfell." Robb smiled at that.

"Impressive, I know that I haven't send you the coin you were hoping for. This will change next summer. How is the keep?"

He shrugged. "It is the same. It is still temporary, and I would love to construct a real one, but it will do for now." His keep consisted of the largest of the three stone towers, with multiple wooden buildings connected around it. In time, the tower would once again be part of the outer wall, and a new bigger keep would have to be constructed in the designated area in the middle.

"The outer wall first, the keep will follow. When spring arrives, we will focus on the towers and a stone outer wall. The keep will have to be for later. However, if you have any requests to temporarily better the keep until then, let me know. I will look into them." His brother replied.

"Thank you, Robb." He responded. His brother seemed a lot better now, so he decided to stay with him. Together they went over the politics of the North and who was marrying who and what implications this would have.

"Any more important news?" He asked him after a while.

"Actually, yes. News has come from the Wall." Robb responded.

"Are they having problems with the season?"

His elder brother shook his head. "They are losing some men to frostbite, but Commander Lanny has ensured me that they are isolated incidents, and they are holding out well-enough. However, it seems that our cousin, Robert Stone, was one of those frostbite victims. He has died a month ago and was given a standard funeral of the Night's Watch. Some of the old Vale rebels attended, like Lyn Corbray, Nestor Royce and Raymond Grafton, but nothing much happened."

He nodded and raised his glass. "To our cousin Robert then. He hadn't asked for his fate and was only a victim of Aunt Lysa's scheming and adultery in the end. He was sent to the orphanages of the Watch at age eight and served amongst the Black Brothers dutifully for nineteen years, after taking his oaths at fifteen. Never has he tried to instigate trouble at the Wall. That, at least, deserves a toast."

Robb agreed and together they drank deeply. Afterwards, they forgot about their cousin.

(The next day)

Robb

His great-uncle could finally be buried. His mother had wanted to do it much earlier, but he had refused. Bran had a right to attend the funeral and so they had waited three weeks for his arrival.

The morbid benefit of this freezing weather was that they had been able to store the body in an abandoned and badly isolated storage building for that time. The body had frozen over, removing the problem of the decomposing smell you sadly had with a lot of noble funerals.

In his last months, his Ser Brynden had thought out a funeral rite for the Wolfsguard.

Other rituals and symbolism for the order had also been created.

A Grey Book, based on the Targaryen Kingsguard's White Book, had been added and the Blackfish had dutifully added entries on all the present and past Kingsguard.

The late Harmond Turrel had been given a finalized passage, and all current members a partial one as well. He had read through them, and they had been done with dignity. All current Wolfsguard members had been happy about them as well. The new Commander of the Wolfsguard would then finish their pages when their time came.

While it would only be made official today, it was well-known that his brother-in-law would take over the order. Torr had served as his uncle's second-in-command for over twenty years. The past years he had taken over the order's day-to-day tasks, while Ser Brynden Tully had focused on advising him and Rickard or attending the Small Council.

He stood above the entrance of the new tomb that had been installed behind the Old Keep next to the servants' lichyard. The graves below had been dug out just before winter and had been expanded since then. The architectural design of the structure was based on the Stark family tomb, but it was much smaller.

When you walked down the stairs, you came upon a small hallway with two rooms. The smaller room on the right was meant for the Lord Commanders, whilst the much bigger room on the left was meant for the normal members of the Kingsguard. Both rooms were designed so that they could be expanded upon if need be.

In the larger room, one grave could already be found. Harmond Turrel had died eight years ago. He had originally been buried somewhere else but after finishing the tomb his bones had been interred here.

Harmond had been his old master-at-arms in Karhold, and he had been a member of a poor noble family sworn to House Karstark. The family had already sent a raven to show their appreciation for the honors that Harmond had been given and they had mentioned their intension of visiting his new grave the next summer.

He looked around him at the faces of the people that were present today. All were packed in heavy fur cloaks, while fleeting, misty clouds came out of their mouths when breathing out the ice-cold air.

Many of his family were here. Arya had come together with her husband and four children. Bran had come as well, although his two girls and wife had remained at Moat Cailin. His son Brynden still resided in Blackwood Vale, a wise choice and helpful when placating the Riverlords.

Both Sansa and Jon had been unable to attend due to the distances and the weather. Sansa might have come, but the trouble that had arisen in their lands forced both Domeric and Belthasar to act. In the meantime, Sansa needed to reign over the Dreadfort.

He couldn't blame them in the slightest, as only half of his own children were present. His heir Rickard stood at his right side with his wife Allara, formerly of House Umber. His boy had grown into a man, and he was immensely proud of him. He already helped him with much of his reign, often holding court in his name or going out to visit their vassals on his own. He had also ensured the future of House Stark, having fathered three children. The twins Edwyle and Lynara were now three years old and showed great spirit, whilst his youngest daughter Arrana had only been born last year.

On his other side stood Alys, with his mother next to her. His mother had aged over ten years this winter. She had taken the loss of her brother and now uncle hard, and daily she despaired about the quarrel between her nieces and nephews. She had sent them all dozens of letters, until it had reached the point that half of them didn't care to respond anymore.

Next to Rickard stood his youngest son Jon. His youngest had been fostered in Sea Dragon's Point with his brother and his namesake for two and a halve years. He had come back some six months ago, as he had wanted to finish his education himself. His brother hadn't minded, and his fostering had proven very useful. His boy had been taught a lot and had formed lasting bonds with Jon's sons and the Mormont heir.

Next to Jon stood his betrothed and future grandfather-in-law. Lord Roderick Dustin had risen highly in the last twenty-five years. He had started as a distant cousin to the Late Lord William Dustin, now he was the Lord of the Barrowlands and his granddaughter would soon be married to a prince.

Some murmurings had arisen over Lady Lyessa Dustin's lineage, but he had put those to rest easily. Lord Roderick's own lineage was impeccable. His mother had been a member of House Stark, a granddaughter of Artos the Implacable. His other maternal ancestors had been a Flint and a Karstark, and his father's family had consisted of Dustin cousins and vassals sworn to Barrowton.

Most grumblings were directed to his late wife's ancestry. This was nonsense. Lady Lyessa had hailed from an old house sworn to House Dustin, House Greybarrow. Most of her ancestors had been among the low nobility there.

Roderick's son William had married Barbrey Ryswell, a second cousin of the new Lord Roger Ryswell and namesake of the former Lady Dustin. Her younger sisters had married other Dustin vassals, strengthening his hold over the Barrowlands.

Whilst Roderick served in the kingdom's Small Council in Winterfell, it was William that ruled over Barrow Hall. His rule was just and effective, having decisively dealt with a claim to the Dustin inheritance by House Twoaxe some years ago.

Fourteen-year-old Lady Lyessa would marry his son next year here in Winterfell. To get used to the new surroundings, she had joined the court as one of Alys' ladies in waiting until her marriage in the family.

That wasn't even the only link that Roderick had managed to procure to House Stark, as his thirteen-year-old niece Jonella Cerwyn stood to marry William's son Ellard. The Dustins had risen highly, taking their rightful position once more as one of the North's major bannermen.

Rickon and his daughter Vala were also in attendance. They stood next to Edrick Cassel, his youngest brother trusted right hand, and his family. Also present was House Poole, his friend Os quietly talking to his son Vayon.

His other council members were there as well. Lords Harrion Karstark, Damwell Deddings, Wylis Manderly, Halys Hornwood and Rupert Brune stood together with Hoster Blackwood and Berthan. He looked at the two newest members of his council, Ser Halmon Paege and Ser Richard Wayn.

Both had been recent additions from this winter. Ser Halmon had taken Lord Damwell Deddings' place as one of the advisors of the Riverlands, whilst Lord Damwell replaced Lord Jason Mallister as Master of Laws. Ser Richard Wayn, a forty-year-old knight from the Riverlands, was the brother of Lord Wayn. He had been recommended by both Lord Hoster Tully and Lord Lucas Goodwood and had come as the replacement of Lord Lothar Mallery, who had unexpectedly died last year.

Other members of his court and petty nobles from around Winterfell circled behind them.

In places of honor stood the nine remaining Wolfsguard. They were dressed in full grey attire, most with deeply sad expressions on their faces.

Alys subtly put her hand on his back. He knew what it meant. She gave him strength, but also signaled for him to begin. He took a deep breath, before addressing all those people gathered in front of him.

"We are here to remember one of the greatest knights that ever graced the lands of Westeros. Ser Brynden Tully belongs in the presence of the finest men the Riverlands has ever produced and was undoubtably one of the greatest men of our age." He commenced.

"His deeds were numerous. He squired for Lord Darry in his youth, eventually being knighted for the qualities he clearly showed from a young age. He justly gained fame and renown for his deeds in the War of the Ninepenny Kings, before serving his father and elder brother in Riverrun." He began to laud his early life, long before his own birth.

"Equally as known as his achievements in war were his feats of utter stubbornness. Something I imagine my late grandfather would gladly attest to if he were still here." The joke caused more than a few laughs, especially among his uncle's former sworn brothers. Even his mother seemed to smile, probably thinking of old memories.

"All of you know about my great-uncle and grandfather's famous disputes, which is how he came to receive his famous moniker. He called himself the Blackfish of the Tully family, yet no one exemplified their words better. 'Family, Duty, Honor', House Tully's motto goes. While Ser Brynden could undoubtably be categorized as a tiresome brother by my grandfather, he always served his family. No one was a better uncle, granduncle or great-granduncle than him. Whatever his disputes with my grandfather Hoster, he served his descendants loyally for decades paying back anything he still owed him thousandfold."

"After my aunt's wedding to Lord Arryn, he joined the man's service. He further increased his fame during Robert's Rebellion, before joining his niece Lysa in the Vale as Knight of the Gate. Fifteen years he served there loyally, until my grandfather called for his help with my Uncle Edmure and my brother Bran. He immediately left his duty as Knight of the Gate, which he had performed excellently for all these years. Why? Because family comes before anything else, and House Tully needed him."

"At the beginning of the war, he unleashed terror on the Lannister armies with only a few hundred horsemen. Raiding their supply lines, attacking their garrisons and even smashing the Mountain Ser Gregor Clegane's forces against the walls of Stone Hedge. He then led three daring attacks against Tywin Lannister's rearguard all on his own, before leading Ser Flement Brax and fifteen hundred men on a wild goose chase across the Riverlands."

Many of the lords that had been present at the start of the war smiled. Halys Hornwood grinned sadly, probably remembering his late son. Lord Deddings' smile was more vicious than Halys'. Tywin Lannister had sacked his keep and killed his wife. Afterwards, he had joined Ser Brynden. The story was personal to him.

"After joining our forces, he became invaluable. He raided Jaime Lannister's camp, baiting him into our troop which is known as the Battle of the Whispering Wood. During the Battle of Riverrun, he commanded the attack on the Lannister's northern encampment and freed his nephew Edmure Tully in the process. The Battle of Oxcross couldn't have happened without him either. His movement with the outriders masking ours."

Lord Halys and Willis now grinned savagely, as did Lord Roderick Dustin. All had been present at Oxcross, which had been the first victory after hearing of the death of his father. Many still viewed it, and its aftermath, as the revenge the North had claimed on the Westerlands for his execution.

"He loyally joined and advised me when campaigning in the Westerlands, but his true moments of glory came after. It was his idea to attack Mace Tyrell at Acorn Hall. Without him, we could not have dealt such a decisive blow to the Tyrells and we would have been overrun at Atranta. During said battle, he commanded the left cavalry. Without him holding that line, our kingdom would have been lost that day." He sighed, as he thought about the horrible battle that had cost him and his kingdom so much.

"He was there with me at the God's Eye and at the Field of Gold. He commanded the right when we ended the era of dragons for good and was there when I took Pyke and ended House Greyjoy." He summarized his exploits during the war.

"Nevertheless, his most important achievements were in peacetime. He protected my family, advised me and my council and oversaw the creation of the Wolfsguard, an institution that will outlive any of us." He looked around, while taking a deep breath. "

"Family, Duty, Honor, those are the Tully words. Ser Brynden Tully excelled at protecting and aiding his family, while always doing his duty and keeping his honor. I am honored to have been able to call him my uncle. Now we will let him rest." He ended his eulogy.

Others, like his mother and Torr said a few more words, before his body was carried down the stairs into the crypt. In the crypt, another new rite would be performed that the Blackfish himself had thought off.

After walking down the stairs, he looked at the stone doorway leading to the small room on the right which would be the burial tomb of all the Lord Commanders of the Wolfsguard. He had already envisioned cutting a recess in the thick wall on the outside of the doorway. He had talked with a master stone mason, who had known his uncle quite well. It could take over a year, but soon a statue of Ser Brynden Tully would forever flank the last resting place of all future commanders.

Only the other members of the Wolfsguard and members of House Stark were allowed down in the crypt, and one by one they all followed him down the stone cut stairs into the room. Behind him stood Alys, together with his mother. Arya stood to the side, together with their brothers. Lastly, his sons Rickard and Jon were present, with the former's wife Allara quietly standing next to his eldest son.

In a wide circle around the grave stood the nine members of the Kingsguard. Next to him, somewhat in front of the others stood Torr. He looked upon the faces of his eight other sworn guards. Denys Northguard, Morgan Barclay, Ser Podrick Paege, Ser Dickon Brune, Ser Benedict Blackwood, Ser Jeremy Bigglestone, Cedric Cerwyn and Ser Edmyn Grey. All looked grimly towards the grave, where the casket with Ser Brynden's body was being lowered by the servants.

Once the servants had left. Torr spoke up. "Ser Brynden was the first ever member of the Wolfsguard. He was our Lord Commander. He swore the same oath all of us made. We all remember how it goes."

All nine started to chant in unison.

"We serve House Stark. We are sworn to obey The Stark's commands, to keep his secrets, to counsel him when requested and to keep silent when not. We vow to defend our king's name and honor. We protect his family. We are the wolves that protect the Pack. The guardians that protect the Kings of Winter. We are members of the Wolfsguard, from now until our dying breath."

His uncle had written the text himself, basing it on the oath of the Targaryen's Kingsguard, the vow of the Night's Watch and Stark history.

Torrhen spoke up again. "Rest now, Ser Brynden Tully, the first Lord Commander of the Wolfsguard." He let a silence fall over the humid stone room, before speaking again.

"He was our commander. We thank him for his guidance and duty." Torrhen spoke, and the other eight repeated the same words after him. He almost had to smile. It was a piece of the ritual that his uncle had enjoyed writing. "I will enjoy them thanking me from the grave, especially Karstark." He had joked, when presenting him with the proposal.

He then stepped forward himself. "Ser Brynden was the commander of my guard, and my foremost protector and advisor. He was one of my heroes and I owe him my life and my kingdom ten times over." He sighed, looking at the grave in front of him.

"He has kept his oath and his lifelong promise. May the Gods grant him rest now." He finished with the words he was meant to say.

"He has kept his oath and lifelong promise. May the Gods grant him rest now." All nine chanted after him.

All nine bowed slightly towards the tomb in silence. Afterwards, the eight others turned Torrhen, as his brother-in-law bowed down before him.

"Torrhen Karstark, I choose you to now lead my Wolfsguard. Do you accept this honor?" He asked him regally.

"I do, Your Grace." Alys' brother responded, loud and clear.

He nodded in response, before looking over the faces of the other eight guards. "Do you, the men of my guard, accept this man as your commander?"

"We do, Your Grace." They answered in chorus.

"Then rise, Lord Commander Torrhen Karstark of the Wolfsguard." He declared, as he put his hand on his brother-in-law's shoulder. Torrhen stood up and thanked him with a nod and a silent bow, before going over to his sworn brothers.

He walked over to his family, taking his crying mother in his arms. Not much later, they walked out of the crypt together. His staunch advisor and protector was gone, but he and his accomplishments would never be forgotten.

This is it for this chapter.

I hadn't planned to write this chapter, but it didn't feel right to ignore the death of Robb's biggest advisor and mentor ever since the death of Rickard Karstark. I used the chapter to get you to know (parts of) the Stark family better, as well as the Winterfell household.

We get to see more of Arya's family, Robb's sons and youngest daughter and Bran, Rickon and Vala. We get updates on Moat Cailin, House Tully and the Night's Watch. Robb's reign is fleshed out more, as we see his Kingsguard and their traditions develop. Traditions and symbolism are important to help cement his rule and create something that lasts.

There have been less reviews lately, so thank you for those that continue to do so.

Fannic

Reviews:

- Scifiromance: Thank you so much for the compliments and continuous reviews! Yes, he was a really flawed character, as many people are.

I am glad that you liked Rickard and Berena. You will be seeing much more of Rickard in the coming chapters.

As you see here, Robb is trying that, but due to winter he can't visit the Riverlands himself. Managing two kingdoms and not being able to visit one for multiple years due to the weather is a real issue.

- OneDocToHealThemAll: I will let this one open to interpretation for now.

Supremus85: It is very ironic. However, if I were to take a guess: Hoster was a very ambitious and grasping man who used everyone to the benefit of the family position. Because of this, he was an often-absent father. The early death of his wife left his children to their own devices. Brynden tried to fix this, but there was only so much he could do. This resulted in Catelyn's obsession with decorum, Lysa's jealousy and obsession with Littlefinger and Edmure hiding from his responsibilities for years and not being taught all the right things.

- George Christian810: I answered in PM.

- Harvey Porter: His death wasn't that early actually for medieval standards. He is born somewhere between 267 and 274 AC I think more to the end of that so 272-274. So, he was around fifty years old.

- Rebfan90: Thank you so much for the continued support!

- Foxy-Floof: Thanks! He certainly passed it down. The Riverlands have always been a divided mess. Thinking that Robb, who is stuck in Winterfell surrounded by snowstorms half the time, could fix it all easily was wishful thinking! The Riverlands often remind me of France between the 10th and early 15th century. They were an absolute mess. Equally so the HRE between the 12th and 18th century. There are many other examples as well, such as the Lowlands before the coming of the Burgundians. Sadly, it is a thing that is very natural to the human state.

- Mike3455: The crossbreeds are an interesting thought! I will look into that.

You are absolutely right about the pack animal and whatever I decide I will take this into account. Thank you for reminding me.

- Guest: Funny idea, but I will try to keep it a little more balanced for now.

If they stick together for millennia, the Riverlander culture would start to diverge a lot from the other Southron cultures due to Northern influences. A successful rebellion is very possible, especially when you have a weak or child ruler on the throne in Winterfell. All the neighboring kingdoms will also try to take a slice of the very fertile lands. You will get a lot more updates on the situation with the Tullys and the Riverlands, I won't spoil that just yet.

An adventure fic around Essos seems fun. Although, I don't have the time for that right now … Thank you so much for the compliment and thank you for reviewing.

- Guest2: I did mean nursery. Thank you for pointing this out and I changed it. If you find any other such mistakes, please let me know.