Strangers in a Strange Land
Chapter 3
Strangers in a Strange Land
The silence in the room was almost more than Robb could bear. His father was waiting for Maester Luwin to return from organizing dinner for Hermione and Harry and he would not have any discussing of what had transpired that day until his trusted advisor reappeared.
Robb would have much preferred if they could talk about the new arrivals first and then feed them, but he knew better than to have suggested that to Father. Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell would always do the right thing, even if it meant that Robb had to live with his questions unanswered for a few more minutes.
They were waiting in another room in the first keep, though this one was devoid of any objects apart from the lamps that cast flickering shadows over them all. His father was standing by the wall adjacent to the door, his back straight and resolute. Whatever he made of this situation, Robb had no idea. His lord father had ever been difficult to read, which was one of the reasons why he was such a good lord. If men always knew what their lord was thinking, then they would be able to pre-empt him. But if they didn’t know whether they had pleased you or not, they were more likely to be caught unawares. Robb often attempted to adopt the same passive façade but it was harder than it seemed.
His half-brother, Jon, was practicing blocking movements with an imaginary sword. The sound of his feet scuffing on the floor was starting to get on Robb’s nerves, but he had a feeling his irritation was more down to his own impatience than Jon’s movements.
His thoughts turned to the two strangers held in separate rooms only a few feet from him. Harry and Hermione. His brain still stumbled slightly over her name so he rehearsed it again and tried to recall the way it had sounded coming from her throat. Harry, on the other hand, was a fairly common name in the Seven Kingdoms. However, everything else about this Harry and the girl he’d arrived with was still an utter mystery. Robb recalled his amazement at discovering that Hermione couldn’t speak the Common Tongue. He should have been prepared for that when he remembered the mysterious writing on their clothes. But it was still bizarre that they could arrive in Winterfell, the heart of the North, without speaking a word of the Common Tongue!
And yet even their arrival had been odd, hadn’t it? He and Jon had arrived to the godswood too late to hear how they had gotten past the guards, but their clothes were soaking wet, as were Father’s. So, what had they been doing in the godswood pool? Robb crossed his arms and leaned against the wall in frustration. They weren’t going to be getting the answers to those sorts of questions anytime soon.
Jon stumbled slightly in his footwork and Robb couldn’t help but grin slightly. “You’ve just lost your head to an invisible sword.”
His half-brother’s already grey eyes darkened as a frown appeared on his lips. “At least I didn’t get injured by two different girls in the same day,” Jon retorted.
It was Robb’s turn to frown this time as his shin gave a throb from where Hermione had kicked him in her attempt to escape. He was unable to give a reply though, as Maester Luwin came through the door at that moment to draw everyone’s attention.
“Did you find anything of importance on them?” His father asked as soon as the door was closed.
“I did,” Maester Luwin confirmed. Robb held his breath anxiously as the Maester put a hand deep into one of his pockets to reveal…
“A couple of sticks?” He called out in dismay, eyeing the two slender pieces of wood Maester Luwin was holding, but the glance his father gave him made Robb hold his tongue against further comments.
“Robb, you are blessed with two perfectly good eyes, so please use the gift of sight more accurately.” Maester Luwin chided. “Do these look like common sticks to you?” Robbe felt his cheeks heat up as the Maester held them out for him to examine more closely. They were more than simple sticks. They were both about ten inches long but were definitely from two different types of tree. One was of a darker wood and much thicker at the end and had a hilt carved in the form of a holly branch, while the other was lighter and slender from end to end with the details of vines carved into it. They certainly looked like they had been crafted and modified to be more substantial than simple pieces of wood.
“What are they for?” Jon asked, peering at the sticks over Robb’s shoulder. “Did they have one each?”
Maester Luwin held up the darker stick. “This one was found on the boy and this one on the girl,” he said as he held up the other. “What their uses are though, I cannot tell you.” Robb frowned. Even when they seemed to be shedding a little more light on the mystery of Harry and Hermione, it quickly changed and they were suddenly thrust back into complete darkness. “Yes they surely hold some significance with the pair, else they would not have had them in their possession.”
Father nodded. “We will keep hold of these items until more knowledge of the children can be obtained. Was there anything else?”
The girl has a fine golden chain about her neck. “Maester Luwin replied. “The ornament that hung on it appears to have been broken off for there is nothing but a small piece of jagged glass.”
“The boy, Harry, his hand was cut.” Robb suddenly remembered. “Maybe he broke whatever was there.”
“When I examined him I did find tiny fragments of glass in his wounds,” Maester Luwin conceded and Robb felt a thrill of triumph.
“But why would he do that?” Jon asked. “It could have been an accident, but to break something in your fist seems to be more like an intentional act.”
“It does appear to be a violent action,” his father replied. “But we cannot be certain.”
No, they were certain of nothing.
“That was all I found on them apart from their clothes. “Maester Luwin finished, tucking the wands, and then his arms, into his sleeves.
His lord father nodded grimly. Robb waited, hoping to finally hear what he made of the situation. He knew Maester Luwin had advised him to be wary of Hermione and Harry; that they might be dangerous, but he sincerely doubted that they were. Despite the mysetery around them, they seemed lie a perfectly normal man and woman nearly grown. He just hoped they would be staying at Winterfell for a while so that he could possibly get some answers.
“I am aware that no word of what has happened today will pass from your lips,” his father said to them all. Robb felt his back straighten. “But what I am about to say now goes beyond that, for if I am right, this changes what we thought was possible in the world.” The intensity of his father’s words caused the breath to pause in Robb’s chest, eager to hear what his father could possibly say. “I believe the children have been brought to us by the gods.”
Robb knew he most probably had a rather ridiculous stunned expression on his face, but he felt it was warranted. The gods?!
“My lord, there may yet be explanations we haven’t considered for the children’s appearance,” Maester Luwin reasoned. “The gods, be they the old or new, are not known to interfere in the lives of men so directly.”
“How exactly did they come to be in the godswood?” Jon asked. “Why weren’t they spotted by any of the sentries?”
“Because we do not have sentries in the sky,” Father replied shortly.
Robb had only just managed to get his facial expression under control, but his mouth gaped open at this revelation. “They came from the sky?!”
His father nodded. “Yes. They fell together into the godswood pool, seemingly unconscious. I am convinced that they didn’t fall or jump from one of the trees; I would have heard them moving above me.”
“But, but maybe something else brought them,” Robb stammered, finding it hard to believe that the gods had truly caused this. “Like some sort of sorcery. You’ve got your Valyrian steel link, Maester Luwin. Is there nothing you studied at the Citadel that could explain this?”
Maester Luwin’s arms seemed to disappear even further up his sleeves. “I’m afraid this goes beyond any sorcery that I know of. I could send a raven to Archmaester Marwyn to—”
“No,” his father cut in. “I will involve no others in this matter. Maester Luwin, surely sorcery of this level would be known to all those who studied for their Valyrian steel link. If you haven’t heard of a feasible way for two children to be delivered in mid-air in your studying, then I am satisfied that it is beyond known possibility.”
Robb noted that Maester Luwin looked very uncomfortable with this assumption, but it seemed to him that learning how to move from one place to another would be one of the first things one would want to learn if they were studying sorcery.
Jon had been quiet since it was revealed how Harry and Hermione came to the goswood and he had a very contemplative look on his face. “You were meant to save them, Father,” ha announced, revealing his train of thought. “if you had not been in the godwood at the time, they would surely have drowned and we would have been none the wiser of their existence.”
Robb hadn’t realized that. The dark waters of the godswood pool meant that what lay in its depths was kept utterly hidden. He shivered as he recalled the stories Old Nan had told him as a child, of what lurked down there. The godswood was sacred to all those who worshipped the old gods at Winterfell but it was unusual for people to frequent it as much as his father did. It was very lucky that Hermione and Harry appeared when they did otherwise, as Jon said, they would have had no idea about them.
“I have come to the same conclusion myself, Jon,” his father nodded. “Before this point I was content that the whisper of the wind through the trees was as much of a message as I was ever going to receive from the gods.”
“But why have they sent these children to you?” Jon wondered. “What purpose did the gods have?”
Robb still wasn’t convinced that the old gods had sent Harry and Hermione. It just seemed so incredible that the gods would act in this way when no record existed of them having done so before. Father seemed sure and so did Jon, but Robb had a feeling that Maester Luwin was also quite skeptical.
“We may never know why the children we brought here,” his father admitted. “But I intend to see that they come to no harm. Although, I cannot be certain that the children are harmless or even innocent of whatever brought them here, I observed them closely and found nothing to cause me great concern about their motives. From now onwards, unless we do find a reason to consider them a threat to the people here, they are under my complete protection.” Robb’s hopes rose. Did this mean they would be staying at Winterfell? “As I have already made clear, it is of the utmost importance that the truth about their arrival is withheld from everyone outside of this room. I’m sure you’re all aware of the fear and suspicion that would be generated if people knew these children came from the gods.”
“But what reason will you give for their lack of common tongue?” Jon asked. “We can’t keep them hidden in here until they’ve learnt our language—their existence would surely be discovered before then.”
His father frowned. “No, they will have to be introduced to the rest of Winterfell soon to stave off any rumors; tomorrow if it can be arranged. The fabrication of their reason for being here will have to be considered very carefully, as there must be no one questioning its validity.”
With all the revelations and theories, Robb found that his head was starting to ache. There was just so much to take in, let alone comprehend! He suddenly found himself fighting a yawn but he was too slow to hide it from his father’s eyes, who frowned. “Perhaps it would be better for you two to retire to bed.”
“No, Father, please,” Robb begged as Jon shot him a furious glare. “Let us stay and be a help to you.”
“We may think of something that you and Maester Luwin would not,” Jon argued and robb nodded enthusiastically.
“You have both already been a great help to me,” Father conceded, “but your reactions will be more convincing if you do not already know too much about the identities I will give them. Besides, you’re involved far too heavily in this matter for my liking.”
An angry outburst was on the tip of Robb’s tongue but he knew better than to let it out; that certainly wouldn’t improve the situation. Once his father had made a decision it was near impossible to change his mind.
“You will go to your rooms and carry on as normal,” his father instructed.
With a muttered, “Yes, Father,” they did as they were told and promptly found themselves descending the steps of the first keep.
“Nice one, Stark,” Jon berated, giving him a slight push that nonetheless made Robb stumble down a couple of steps. “Now we’ll just have to sit around and wait.”
“Well, Snow, if I hadn’t suggested that we follow father and Maester Luwin to the godswood then we wouldn’t know about any of this,” Robb shot back, elbowing his half-brother in the ribs.
They came upon the guard standing in front of Hermione’s door and abruptly stopped talking. Robb was half-tempted to see if he could see her or Harry through the keyholes but realized it was pointless given the darkness of the rooms.
He continued his journey with Jon in silence until they exited the first keep and stepped into the chilly evening.
“We must do as father says and act normally,” Jon whispered, his breath misting in front of him in the moonlight.
Robb nodded. “We can’t talk about tonight, not even to each other. We won’t know if someone’s listening.” As necessary as it was, it was still increadibly frustrating. Two people had fallen out of Winterfell’s sky, possibly sent by the old gods themselves, and he had to forever pretend like it had never happened!
Robb was relieved that the walk to the Great Keep did not take them long as there were so many different aspects of what had transpired that day that he wanted to talk about, even if he couldn’t. At least if he was out of Jon’s company he wouldn’t give in to temptation and start talking about what he wasn’t allowed to.
They parted awkwardly, so many words lying unsaid and Robb readied himself for bed with more than an air of frustration. His only hope was that he would quickly surrender to sleep so that morning would appear to come all the quicker. This would have been an excellent plan, if his brain wasn’t racing with thoughts, theories and images of crimson and scarlet lions, a pair of uncovered slender legs and a couple of sticks.
“You look terrible,” Theon said with a grin that showed no sympathy as Robb sat to break his fast the next morning. He didn’t doubt that he looked slightly worse for wear. It had felt like he had been tossing and turning underneath his furs all night, but he must have fallen asleep eventually because he had woken suddenly to find light streaming through his window. Despite the pounding in his head, he’d dressed quickly and hurried down to the morning meal. He’d been tempted to just grab something from the kitchen before seeking out Father, but he remembered he’d been instructed to act normally, so he had journeyed to the Great Hall instead.
“Good morning to you, too,” he muttered, with a light scowl, before starting to help himself to some eggs and sausages. Most of Robb’s family was here already, excluding his father and youngest brother Rickon. His sister, Sansa, was looking every inch a lady as she demurely ate slices of apple, while his other younger siblings, Arya and Bran had engaged in a silent mock-battle with their spoons. Robb doubted it would take his mother long to notice and swiftly put an end to it. Jon, however was staring contemplatively across the hall, his food left half-eaten. Robb was pleased to see that he wasn’t the only one struggling to get his head around recent events.
“Your warrior wounds seem to be healing nicely,” Theon said, nodding to Robb’s cheek. “It’s a shame they won’t leave a scar; you’d look much more fearsome, even if they were cause by a little girl.”
“I didn’t see you trying to break us apart,” Robb retorted. “I’m nearly a man-grown now. The advantage of those extra years you have will soon be of no consequence.”
Theon’s grin widened. “We’ll see, Stark.”
The large doors at the end of the Great Hall opened and his father and Ser Rodrick Cassel entered, followed by the men that he had taken to patrol the Wolfswood. His father called for more food to be brought out and suddenly the hall was full of hungry men calling jovially to each other across the tables.
His mother rose to receive Ser Rodrick, who gratefully accepted a goblet of wine, but Robb was distracted by another arrival in the Great Hall; Maester Luwin.
He held his breath. The Maester’s appearance couldn’t be to do with Harry and Hermione could it?
Maester Luwin bowed deeply to his lord and lady and Robb strained to hear what was being said over the din in the hall. “My lord, a pair of children arrived just after dawn and I believe they seek some sort of audience with you.” Robb tensed and glanced at Jon, who was also watching the exchange closely. This was it.
“You believe?” Robb’s mother repeated with a puzzled expression. “Why are you not sure?”
“They do not speak the Common Tongue, my lady,” Maester Luwin explained.
“No Common Tongue? That’s absurd!” Ser Rodrick exclaimed, attracting attention all over the hall. “How could they travel across the North without speaking our tongue?”
“I can only guess, Ser Rodrick. That is why it has taken me this long to bring the matter to your attention, my lord. Despite my knowledge of several languages, communicating with tehm has been extremely difficult. They only responded very slightly my use of Lorathi—a language I’m afraid I have limited knowledge of.”
His father frowned. “They’re from Lorath?” The hall had grown quiet, but a low murmuring spread along both the head table and the lower ones.
Robb had to admit that Lorath seemed like a wise choice. Of all the free cities, Lorath was the smallest and the one of least consequence in Westeros. He was pretty sure that he hadn’t ever met a Lorathi or even heard of one being mentioned in the North, though there were plenty of tales of Tyroshi sailors or traders from Pentos or Myr.
“I believe so,” Maester Luwing replied.
“What are two children from Lorath doing here?” Theon muttered as Robb’s mother asked the same question.
“None of the words of their own tongue have given me any indication, my lady, but the only reason I can think of for two children to travel so far from their own home without any knowledge of the Common Tongue, would be through fear.”
A look of concern passed across his mother’s face. “Have they been mistreated?”
Maester Luwin shook his head. “They appear to be in good health, my lady, though their clothes were not fit for further use. I hope you do not object that I provided them with new ones.”
“Of course not,” his father said. “Bring them here, Maester Luwin. I would see these children for myself.”
Maester Luwin bowed and swept from the hall as the babble of chatter returned. Lord and Lady Stark took their seats at the head table, joined by Ser Rodrick.
Robb chewed his lip nervously. Was it such a good idea to bring Harry and Hermione to a packed Great Hall? What if the sight of so many warriors scared them? What would they do?
“Whatever their reasons might be,” Theon started, breaking off a chunk of bread. “I know that if I was from Lorath, I’d want to get away from there.”
“Yes. It’s odd though, that they’re only children,” Robb replied, playing his part. “There was no mention of anyone else. That’s a very long and dangerous journey for children to make on their own.”
“Can we keep them, Father?” Arya asked. “I want more children to play with.”
“People aren’t possessions, Arya,” Father chided.
“How are you going to play with people you can’t talk to?” Sansa asked with an air of disdain. “They probably don’t even play the same games in Lorath.”
“Well, they can teach us new games, then,” said Bran. “I’m bored of playing Come-Into-My-Castle.”
There was a hush as Maester Luwin re-entered the hall and people stood up to get a look at the children.
“They’re not children,” Theon said quietly to Robb when they came into view. Harry and Hermione were unsurprisingly looking very nervous, though they seemed less mysterious dressed in clothes more fitting to Westeros. “They’re nearly a man and woman grown. She looked old enough for marrying—she’s old enough for bedding at least.” Robb frowned, though Theon spoke the truth, for Hermione was seemingly close to a marrying and bedding age. An image of her legs came unbidden into his mind and he felt himself flush. Theon noted his red cheeks and laughed. “Don’t be such a maid, Stark.”
Robb could feel himself get even hotter. “Shut up, Greyjoy.”
“I present Harry and Hermione, my lord,” Maester Luwin said, drawing Robb and Theon’s conversation to a close. The newcomers seemed to sense the formal setting (or Maester Luwin had somehow instructed them) for they bowed and curtsied in turn. Robb was avoiding Hermione’s eye so that there would be no sign of recognition on her face, at least that is what he told himself as his cheeks finally started to cool down.
“You are most welcome here,” his father said, but the blank looks on Harry and Hermione’s faces seemed to satisfy everyone else that they didn’t understand a word he had said.
“They will not be children much longer,” his mother observed. “Are they siblings?”
“I do not know, my lady,” Maester Luwin sighed. “I only know the names they have given me.”
“It is a most puzzling situation,” Ser Rodrik said, shaking his head slightly. Robb wondered how Ser Rodrik would react if he knew how Harry and Hermione had really come to Winterfell.
His mother nodded, “Maester Luwin, is it possible you could teach them the Common Tongue? Once we find out their reasons for leaving Lorath, we might be able to assist them further.”
“It will take time, my lady, as I’m working with an unfamiliar language, but I see no reason why they should not become speakers of our tongue,” the Maester replied.
Robb was amazed at how well this acceptance of Harry and Hermione was going. Nobody was questioning the likelihood of them coming from Lorathm but as Maester Luwin was the most learned man in Winterfell, it was unlikely that anyone would disbelieve him if he gave good reasoning.
“There is room in my turret for the boy to reside, my lord,” Maester Luwin continued. “But it might be prudent to find a bed for the girl elsewhere.”
“She can share my bed if she wants,” Theon whispered, the familiar grin on his face. Robb shoved him away and turned back to the main conversation.
“I’m sure somewhere suitable will be found,” his father said, before turning along the table to look at his eldest daughter. “Sansa, I trust that you will make the girl welcome and help her find her way around.”
Robb noticed that Sansa didn’t look entirely pleased by this instruction, but she dutifully replied, “Yes, father.”
“I’ll help, too, father,” Arya piped up. She ducked down under her table and emerged in front of Hermione, who looked a little surprised. “Hello, I’m Arya Stark of Winterfell, but I can’t remember what your name is because it was a bit odd.”
Sansa clicked her tongue and shook her head slightly. “She can’t understand you, Arya.”
Arya shrugged her shoulders. “Come on, I’ll show you around.” She grabbed Hermione’s arm and started to pull her towards the doors.
“Arya! Father asked me to show her Winterfell,” Sansa called. She got to her feet and strode after the pair, her head held high.
“Are you alright?” Harry called to Hermione, who had given in to Arya’s insistent tugging.
“I think so. I don’t think they’re going to hurt me,” she replied, though of course, no one actually knew what either of them said.
“I’ll go with them, Lord Stark,” Jon suggested, adopting the formal tone as he always did when in front of Lady Catelyn. “And take the boy, too.”
“Wait for me,” Bran called, ducking under the table in the same fashion as Arya.
Robb pushed himself to his feet, too. He wasn’t about to be left behind. His mother and father looked shocked at how their children had all abandoned their food. He glanced at Theon. “Are you coming?”
Theon made an exaggerated show of pushing his plate away. “I suppose I had better supervise so that the girl doesn’t cause you injury as well.”
Robb scowled, glad that Theon didn’t know about the purple bruise on his leg.