[Chapter Size: 3900 Words.]
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Third Person POV
Winterfell, 298 AC.
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"So that was really a shield from Artica? Completely made of Valyrian steel?!" Robb Stark couldn't help but ask with a certain caution, as the man in front of him nodded at his question.
"I wasn't there, boy, but everything indicates yes. However, you should be paying attention to your training and not to what's going on in the castle right now," the man grumbled.
"I know... But so much is happening at once... I don't think I should even be here training to begin with," Robb murmured with a slightly cautious tone, as he raised the wooden sword immediately upon seeing his opponent's movement in front of him, the wooden blade clashing and forcing him to take a few steps back.
"Your father is more than capable of handling things. If he needed you, he would have called you, don't you think? Besides, he put you here to train and didn't interrupt your morning session. So focus, Robb. If you ever want to wield the sword your father uses, you must put in the effort," the man said, and quickly advanced against Robb.
Robb quickly raised his sword to protect himself from the second attack, as the man in front of him — his trainer since he had first set foot in the training yard as a child — Ser Rodrik Cassel, advanced showing the toughness of a man hardened by battle after decades of experience on the battlefield.
Rob tried, still recovering, to counter the third blow, while for a moment, he began to lose his balance, quickly stepping back to regain his composure.
His mind was still divided among several things, including what had been happening and the fight in front of him, while his body practically moved on its own, without much effort.
That was a problem, since he was performing well below what he should — and Cassel seemed to notice, as he growled with a disappointed look.
"Come on, Robb! You're better than this!" Cassel snarled, continuing to press forward.
Robb tried to strike back, to find some blind spot or opening in that clash — something he had done many times before, proving he had a natural fencing skill recognized by everyone in the castle, defeating even older and more experienced foes. Stronger and faster ones also fit that profile. He just needed to find that opening.
After all, he had been picking fights with royal guards for almost two weeks. He took a few hits, couldn't beat them 90% of the time, but once in a while he pulled off a win — and they were getting easier.
His mother seemed very pleased and proud. And that wasn't limited to her. His entire family seemed quite satisfied with his performances in the training yard. But they certainly wouldn't say that today, while he kept getting pushed back and losing ground to Ser Rodrik Cassel.
He didn't even manage to find the opening he was looking for before being struck hard on the hand, making him drop the wooden sword.
"You got me," Robb cleared his mind and said calmly, rubbing his injured hand — even with protection, it still hurt.
"Pick your sword back up. Don't disappoint me like that, Robb!" the man roared, dissatisfied with the boy's performance.
"Alright," Robb walked over to the sword and picked it up again.
They got into combat stance once more. The fight continued, as Cassel kept pressing and Robb returned to the defensive.
"You're getting distracted again, Robb. You're paying attention somewhere else!" Cassel roared.
Robb found himself struck once again on the leg. He bent his knee and felt the wood touch his neck.
"You're dead, again." He said formally, while Cassel looked on with some anger, but showed nothing.
In the end, he only sighed at his trainer.
"Can we try again?" he asked, but Cassel shook his head, surprising Robb.
"Not today. No. When you wake up in the morning with a calmer head, we can train. Today your mind's not in the right place." He said.
"How could it be? My sister could be murdered at any moment!" Robb muttered, while Cassel looked at him with a certain strangeness.
"Nothing will happen to her, boy. I assure you. There's nothing to worry about. Anyway, go cool your head. We'll talk later." With that, Cassel put away his wooden sword and sighed, while he glanced around the yard to assist everyone else training at the moment.
The guards kept training with each other, and Cassel, now free from exclusively focusing on Robb as the future lord of Winterfell, began instructing everyone there, shouting words of encouragement and, at the same time, reprimanding and correcting some stances.
Robb saw some people — servants — going to take care of the weapons storage at that moment. As they began to enter with him near the entrance, he saw one among the group in particular. Theon Greyjoy was among them, with an unpleasant look, while going to work with the other servants there today.
Robb didn't quite know what to think about him, but he remembered well who Theon had been in his life.
The servants walked past him, and Robb felt Theon's gaze. Robb stared back, just as Theon looked at him. They stared at each other for a moment, before Theon simply lowered his head and kept walking.
There was a glint of hurt and betrayal in him.
Robb didn't know what to say. On one hand, there was a young man who had shared much of his life at his side, always laughing and joking as they caused mischief around the castle. He remembered well when he managed to put all the blame on Jon when they were kids — a time when Robb felt nothing but disdain for his actions. On the other, he was someone being punished by his father for his actions against Winterfell. His father hadn't forbidden him from approaching Theon, but everyone said they shouldn't get close.
Theon was full of anger, his status lowered to the one Jon once held... and what more could Robb say with Theon always being angry at him and everyone else? His father hadn't taken his actions well, nor could he say he was proud of his past. He had made many mistakes, and Theon had always been there to help him hate Jon after his brother left Winterfell.
What was once a friendship tied to adventuring through Winterfell like two mischievous children had later become a kind of bond with the sole purpose of hating Jon.
Robb couldn't say that was right — quite the opposite, it deeply embarrassed him. And it had taken him a long time to learn that, to even believe he might be beyond what Jon could forgive.
But he hadn't wanted to admit that until not long ago either. He had become a bitter person, consumed by envy over Jon's accomplishments in the world.
If Robb hadn't had a wake-up call from his sister, who told him some worrying things about himself... maybe he would still be a fool unable to reflect on his actions.
With a touch of courage back then, he admitted everything to his father, knowing the consequences wouldn't be easy — just like it had happened with his mother... And although those consequences were already known to him at that point, since he had gone to ask his mother for forgiveness soon after, he still confessed everything.
His sister had seen the dark path he was walking. He had to swallow his pride. Jon was a very powerful person, and if his petty jealousy continued, it would one day come back to bite him. But not just because of that — it was also because he had started to stray from the path his father had taught him.
There were so many regrets inside Robb.
Even still full of flaws, fighting for what was right and just was what Robb wanted now. Envy had always driven many of his actions. It was time for him to follow the path his father had shown him.
Theon walked off and went to a barrel full of wooden swords, grabbing a few while passing by with his head down and continued helping the other servants. Robb knew Theon hated that kind of work, always complaining and even mocking the people beneath him.
Robb just sighed and tried not to think about it, while attempting to breathe in some fresh air that morning. Things weren't easy.
The attempted ambush against Arya in the Wolfwood, involving the Faith Militant — a force that had been growing rapidly ever since the king allowed its return — left everyone on edge. Robb didn't like it one bit, but there was nothing to be done. That force wasn't even connected to the North in any way.
At least not until they tried to kill Arya...
Not to mention the queen was also involved, even though she had denied it. Robb, his sister, and his father knew she was lying. That woman, bitter as she was, was as dangerous as she was beautiful — and Robb knew that.
She had taken issue with Arya ever since she saw her. The queen had confronted Arya personally, in her arrogance over Arya not following the rules set by the other highborn and nobles of Westeros. Arya didn't need to — nor did she kneel — before the royal family.
And now there was a problem because of the attack. From all of that, Robb knew nothing good would come from the cut on the queen. When the woman was released from the care of the healing maester, she would seek revenge. Robb feared for Arya's safety more than anything.
And now, lastly, came the shield from Artica amidst a fire still raging in the west, which everyone claimed to be wildfire. Robb had called his father about it. Could it have been Jon? At the very least, they should try to find out why he had done it. There were rumors of dragons, as people described two colossal creatures facing each other in that fiery field — one against the other — which Robb considered madness. How could dragons suddenly appear? When they had been extinct for over a hundred years.
He had gone to his sister and asked about it, after all Jon was involved and Robb wanted to understand. She said it didn't seem true, but didn't want to talk much about it and quickly changed the subject.
He didn't know whether to believe her, but said nothing more. Arya was either a good liar, or she truly was telling the truth.
Robb didn't press the issue and dismissed it as a moment of stress for the men who had seen the fire. Still, the question lingering in the air was: why had Jon done it? And why had he left his shield behind in the middle of the fire? One made of Valyrian steel... He would ask his father again. He would at least wait to hear something that afternoon.
His gaze turned back to his mother, walking along the balcony, looking quite agitated with Sansa at her side. She was another concern that day. In recent days, she had been permanently unstable regarding Cassandra — with whom Robb had no problem.
The woman was kind and responsible; Robb had learned to value that. Not that he loved her or anything of the sort, but he certainly already treated her with respect as his father wished, and her presence didn't bother him.
His mother, for some reason, insisted that she was somehow taking her place. Robb had heard that from the guards, who had overheard the argument the previous day. He couldn't help but be stunned.
She had ended up agreeing with Arya when asked what she was doing wrong. There was nothing wrong with seeing Rickon with Cassandra. After all, as his sister had said, she had helped raise his youngest brother. She had been an important maternal figure for the youngest while they were traveling.
While he was lost in thought, the servants had left the stable and were putting away some weapons. Theon came out once more and suddenly, seeming to want something behind him.
"Excuse me, Lord Robb." Robb was startled slightly by Theon's voice nearby, as he began to approach, removing a few more wooden swords from another barrel, where he would place them.
The morning was ending after all the chaos with the execution and the attack against Queen Cersei...
Robb simply made way, but didn't stop staring at Theon intently, while the other didn't even look at him. He continued with the large swords and moved away.
"Traitor." Theon's voice came out weakly as he walked away.
"What?" Robb asked immediately upon hearing it.
"Sorry, my lord. I didn't say anything," Theon replied quickly, looking at him with the same tense face.
"Alright," Robb simply said in a neutral, indifferent tone, while Theon nodded there.
Robb sighed, seeing that Theon was still the same — a man full of grudges — but he said nothing in the end and decided to leave the training yard before Theon returned.
Robb wanted to avoid him.
"Lord Stark!" As Robb walked, his eyes turned to the one who had called him, seeing a man with a cane: Lord Willas Tyrell and his brother Garlan, from Highgarden, with the former being the future lord of House Tyrell — one of the most powerful houses in Westeros.
He still remembered how they had arrived yesterday and had been quite cordial. Robb was surprised to see Lord Willas for the first time. He had to admit the man had a certain charisma. He also spoke about his unfortunate incident, where, during a joust, he was injured while his opponent was Oberyn Martell.
Many said, as rumor had it, that it wasn't the Dornishman's fault, but even so, many in the Reach believed otherwise, and Oberyn had never been well regarded in those lands again.
"Yes, my lord," Robb replied himself, greeting Willas and his brother, who approached at the pace of the former, with the cane.
"We haven't had a proper conversation yet, Lord Stark. If you're available, I'd like you to join me," Willas said in a diplomatic tone, and Robb nodded, being friendly as well — he appreciated an easy smile, and Willas seemed good at offering one.
"Of course, we can have that conversation," Robb finally agreed.
Robb led them through the castle in silence, with both the king's and Winterfell's guards walking nearby, suspicious of one another from every side, waiting for an order to strike.
Robb had to slow his pace significantly, while Willas already seemed used to walking at the rhythm of his older brother with the cane.
"I must admit, the North is a strange land. The weather certainly isn't the best — no offense — but I'd still choose the Reach a thousand times over," Willas began, laughing at his own joke, while Robb nodded with a small smile.
"I can't say you're wrong — after all, that's your homeland. I'd probably say the same. And look, even though the North is cold... I like the harsher climate and wouldn't trade this place for anything..." Robb said confidently.
"Well, you are a Stark. I'm not surprised by that," Willas said to Robb in a friendly tone.
"Anyway..." he continued. "I hope my offer of goods is proving quite beneficial to you and your father," he said, seeking an answer from Robb right away.
"It's a great price — nothing like it in recent years — or even since I can remember looking at the food prices my father buys every year... He, he and I are very interested. After all, he believes — or rather, Arya says — that summer is ending, perhaps fading. My family has never made more sense. And we'll be needing food because winter is coming..." Robb said with a smile.
"Well, then that's quite pleasant, I'm glad. I hope I can truly help you all..." he said, while Robb nodded.
"Anyway, speaking of your sister... She must have told you we had a small talk in your former brother's room," Willas said, and Robb nodded until the last part, seeming to grow slightly cautious.
Willas noticed it, but ignored it immediately. He only gave a brief glimmer of acknowledgment in his gaze and continued.
"Did you know they offered your sister to marry me, so she would become Lady of Highgarden?"
"She mentioned it, but didn't share many details," Robb said.
"She didn't say she also said no? Haha," Willas said, starting to laugh with good humor, despite the rejection.
"She's had quite a few suitors lately, but seems to refuse them all. My father's been quite firm in letting her choose who she'll marry."
"I don't think it's just that," Willas said. "After all, the girl seems quite devoted to her other brother and to the kingdom itself, in this place called Artica. She's leaving soon, as she told me. I believe there's someone she truly loves there..." he said, while Robb confirmed, though surprised and thoughtful in the end.
"Yes, soon. She's leaving Winterfell. I don't know exactly when, but I need to speak with her this afternoon about it, and I'd like to know more... I won't let my sister get involved with someone I can't approve of," Robb said, while Willas nodded with a laugh.
"This whole war against the dead... Do you believe in it?" Willas suddenly asked in a more serious tone, and Robb nodded.
"I believe so. Jon canceled all his trade precisely because of that. That's not just a letter — it's a declaration. Whatever it is he's fighting beyond the Wall, it seems very real, enough for him to mobilize his entire army to face his enemy."
"Well, my brother still believes that can't be possible. But I won't criticize anything about it."
"Anyway, I hope I'm helping resolve all our problems with Jon and Artica. Your sister must have already told you I intend to return all the gold that we, House Tyrell, owe him," he said.
"She did. Well, I'm not part of Jon's councils to know what he'll think about that..."
"And you? I heard you had certain problems with him..." Willas suddenly asked, while Robb frowned.
'Yeah... He's trying to get information out of me. To find out exactly what kind of relationship I have with Jon,' Robb thought immediately.
He could sense there was something between the lines in Willas's questions. Arya had taught him a lot about that — visits from nobles trying to read intentions behind pretty phrases and gentle gestures.
Not everyone acted the way they did out of sincerity, but out of a need to achieve their goals. Some kind words could trigger information that would be used to destroy their enemies through those closest to them.
It didn't seem that, even if they knew about the nonexistent contact between Robb and Jon after years, it would be of any use to the Reach — but somehow, it might help them with their next decisions. Whatever it was they were planning for the Seven Kingdoms.
Robb didn't know how to deal with that, but simply offered a smile. He was still too naive and turned back to Willas.
"Well, it's not like we can just leave the past behind," he said.
"You're being honest, aren't you? I heard about your punishment. It seems you've given your father reason to believe in his heir again. That means your father saw something in you that was worth giving a second chance. I believe Jon could do the same..." Willas said, offering a gentle piece of advice.
"You think so?" Robb let slip in a murmur.
"He was at my house, you know? You may have known him until you were ten, from what I heard. But I met the boy who was already becoming a man, around his fourteenth nameday. And I can tell you more: it was his personality that stood out," he said, falling quiet.
Robb didn't respond. He looked thoughtful.
"I knew Jon to be a kind man, but fiercely protective — even radical — when it came to those around him. You should have seen how he nearly killed a member of the Kingsguard after the man insulted his wife. I saw him bring nobles to their knees without raising a sword or spilling a drop of blood."
"I heard about that. Ser Boros is in King's Landing now, in poor condition. He really had to lose an eye. And it wasn't even a beating Jon gave him."
"The fool believed that in Artica there weren't men like any other across the kingdoms who would dare challenge them. That came at a very steep price. But we also had trouble realizing that, and by the time we did, it was already too late."
"Then I guess we're the same in one way," Robb let out a slightly bitter laugh, thinking about the boy he had hated in recent years here in Winterfell — full of regret in his heart. Would he ever have the chance to make it right?
"Well, you should learn from us... about Jon and us... we're trying to fix things now. We managed to take the first step toward, maybe, a future relationship. We're trying. You should do the same," Willas continued to press.
"I think you're right. But I don't want to force anything with Jon. He's not going to read any of my letters, I'm sure. My sister said she would speak to him. Maybe he'll write back," Robb said.
"That sounds good. House Stark has a powerful ally who shares their blood. No wonder Arya receives so many marriage proposals, being the unmarried Stark with powerful connections. She'll certainly be able to choose a great lord to marry. She could even be the Lady of Highgarden, and I wouldn't mind having the most beautiful lady in the Seven Kingdoms by my side. No offense, Lord Robb," he said with a friendly smile.
"Arya isn't the only one — Sansa is also single... not that she knows that yet..." Robb said, glancing back at the two brothers, who looked at him in surprise.
'Did I say too much?' Robb thought, but decided to dismiss the idea, since his father would practically make it public soon. No one would be able to ignore Sansa complaining that "it's not fair," while crying in the corners of the castle in the coming hours after her father revealed she wouldn't marry Prince Joffrey.
"Sansa is single? Well, that's a bit surprising..." Willas murmured, then looked back at his brother, who nodded as if he now had some useful information.
"Well, in any case, it was a good conversation. Let me ask: would you like to train with one of my brothers here, just for sport? He's quite the strong warrior, and I saw that you've got talent too."
"Of course, why not?" Robb said, smiling.
"In any case, I'll be here watching you both. This seems like it'll be an interesting bout — my brother is the best knight in the Reach. So you'd better prepare, as he'll be eager to prove he can give you some trouble," Willas said from a distance, as Robb decided to get a bit more training in, before blushing slightly and turning his attention back to the members of House Tyrell.
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