Chapter 17
Thunder ominously rumbled from thick black clouds that loomed over the city as Robb rode steadily to an abandoned tavern at the top of Cregan’s Hill. The people in the street gave him a wide birth, eyeing Grey Wind wearily. There were more than a hundred things on Robb’s mind, such was the life of the Stark of Starks.
“Looks like it’ll rain soon.” Elowyn said from under her hood as she rode beside him. The Mistwalkers had been a new edition to Winterfell after his mother’s attack. His great aunt Larra had brought more than three dozen of them up from the Neck, in order to personally guard the members of house Stark. It was some comfort to Robb that he had an army of assassins guarding his family.
Casting his eyes upward, Robb answered his sworn shield. “We’ll be there before the worst of it comes down.”
“Have you thought about what you’re going to say to them?”
“Somewhat…”
Robb was heading to meet with the dozen or so captains of the various criminal gangs that operated in the Winter City. These captains would pay tribute to house Stark from their businesses and would generally keep their practices on the tamer side, not doing anything that would disrupt the city too greatly.
That was the plan.
Before the last moon turned, the captain of the gang that based itself on Cregan’s Hill was found dead. It was a spark that lit the flame war right on the city streets. All the other gangs were fighting over the right to control Cregan’s Hill. Or more specifically, it’s docks, where ships from the dwarven mines in the northern mountains would offload their cargo of gems and precious metals.
Fighting on the streets of the Winter City would not do, especially not so close to one of the major trade routes into the city. Not to mention the number of lives the fighting had already claimed. It had come to a point where Robb had needed to step in and deal with the matter himself. He sent messages to each of the captains and called a holy truce, invoking the Old Goddess, Boann. It was under her watchful eye that Robb would have to meet with these… unsavoury men.
His father had dealt with them a number of times, he had always come back home in a worse mood than he left with. Thoughts of his father set a deep anger rising in him, one clearly felt by Grey Wind, who bared his teeth in a low growl.
He’s still alive. Robb told himself. Perhaps not whole, but still alive.He has the Chosen Men with him. And Arthur. And Beric… They’ll protect him and the girls.
Robb had raged when the news arrived of Jaime Lannister’s attack on his father, Jon had stormed off to mount Moonhowler before their mother had the guards bar Winterfell’s gates. It had taken all of Robb’s willpower not to ride south on Gnasher to deal out death and destruction on every Lannister he could find.
If the word of the Lannister raids in the Riverlands was to be believed, Robb might have to march south anyway, with the armies of the North at his back.
Banishing those thoughts from his head, Robb turned a corner and saw their destination. It was tavern four stories tall, with windows that were all black from years of smoking, a large weirwood tree stood in the centre of the paved square in front of it. Robb had been told that the building had been a smokehouse before being turned into a tavern, the smell of smoked kippers filled his nose was he crossed it’s threshold.
The captains were sitting on benches, all gathered around a table in front of a stage where the weirwood carved statue of Boann stood, with two Greenmen standing behind it. A pile of daggers and other blades lay on a table at the other end of the tavern hall. A symbol of their peaceful negotiation.
Their eyes were on Robb as he walked to the stage where the statue of Boann stood. Robb unbuckled his belt and lay his sheathed sword on the table next to the statue, Elowyn removed her sword and placed it next to his without a word, as Grey Wind padded around the hall.
Robb turned to the captains with what he hoped was a match for his father’s ‘Lord’s Face’. Each of the men were different, yet they were all the same. There were men, dwarves and children of the forest. Some were older than Robb’s father, others looked only a few years older than himself. Some were corpulent and greasy, some were thin and well groomed. Some draped themselves in fine clothes and expensive jewellery, while others wore more simple garb.
Yet they all looked at Robb with the same beady little eyes, watching, judging, guessing how much they could use him for their own ends.
You must be forceful with them. His mother had told him. Make no mistake, all of those men are killers. They will see your age as weakness. Your father is not here, so they will push for more than what he would give them. These men are a cowardly and superstitious lot. If you are to rule one day, they must respect you, or fear you…
“Your contest for control of Cregan’s Hill is finished. All violence will cease.” Robb said loudly and clearly.
“You can say what you like.” A dark haired man in fine clothes and finer jewels said, in a tone Robb would have charitably described as insolence. “It doesn’t make it so.”
Robb chose to ignore him and continue on. “None of you have been able to get control of the Hill, and it seems unlikely that is going to change. So as Master of the Winter City, I claim the captaincy of the Cregan’s Hill gang as property of House Stark. I will appoint a new captain and you will deal with them.”
“You can’t do that.” One of the older men in plainer clothes said.
“Says who?” Robb shot back, as Grey Wind lowered his head and growled, making the men shift uncomfortably away from the wolf.
“We all know of you, Robb Stark. You are young an unfamiliar with our ways.” The dark haired man in fine clothes said. “In your father’s absence, you are the Stark of Starks and we are duly respectful of that fact, you would do well to return that respect.”
Robb worked hard to crush the anger within him at the insult and invocation of his father.
“Well I can’t do that,” He snarked. “but I can give you coin instead.” Their reactions were plain to see, now there was money in it, they were interested. “Once order is restored, all of you will receive a payment with each moon to the value of fifty gold dragons directly from house Stark under my captain’s supervision. In return, I expect you to limit yourself to your… traditional liberties and malpractices. Nothing that will disrupt trade and the general order.” There was a pause as the men looked to each other, considering what they had been offered. “I require your acknowledgment and acceptance of these terms.”
“Fifty gold dragons…” A child of the forest with a long moustache murmured as he looked to the other captains. “It’s not bad… What form will it take? Gold? Gems? Grain?”
“Whichever you would like.” Robb answered, dismissively.
“Are you women?” The Older man from earlier admonished the other captains. “One bark from this green pup and you bow your neck.”
“What is your name?” Robb asked the older man.
“Romar, Captain of the Ratway. Tell us, why should respectable men such as ourselves listen to a boy like you?”
“Romar, Captain of the Ratway…” Robb committed the name to memory. “You ask a fair question. Those who will not acquiesce to my demands will become my enemies.”
“And so…?”
They must fear me.
“They will die much sooner than they expect…”
At that, a number of the captains sprang to their feet, some even making for their blades on the table. Grey Wind stood between them and it, snarling with malicious intent. One of them took a step in Robb’s direction. Before the man could blink, Elowyn was between them. Her hand flexed, and her hidden blade sprang out from under her sleeve, pressing it’s Uru tip just under the man’s chin.
“Uh uh uhhh…” She warned, pressing it forward, making the man stumble back.
The dark haired man rose to his feet and raised his hands. “Steady on! Remember Boann.” He looked to the other captains. “No blood.”
Everyone put their blades down and went back to their seats.
Robb had a thought. They’re a cowardly and superstitious lot…
“Boann…” Robb’s voice was dripping with sarcasm as he turned and picked up the statue behind him. The Greenmen tried to stop him, but he pushed them aside.
Robb stood on the stage, with the statue in his hands, the captains all looking at him. With both hands, he slammed the statue onto his knee, splintering the statue into pieces. There was a stunned silence in the tavern, Robb could hear the strong winds and heavy rain battering at the shutters from the storm outside.
“I am a son of FENRIC!” Robb shouted at the stunned group of men. “I FUCK Boann in her ARSE!”
Just at that moment the shutters on one of the windows flew open, thunder and lightning raging outside. Whether it was blind luck or divine providence, it certainly made for a dramatic scene. Some of the men rose from their seats in fear, inching closer to the door.
Robb threw the splintered wood to the ground and drew his sword from it’s sheath, fixing the captains with a hard gaze.
“The truce is raised.” He declared, staring the men down. There was one heartbeat, then another, as the men nervously looked around at each other. Robb could see the fear in their eyes, and he knew he had them. “Romar of the Ratway…” He picked out the older man again. “Do you accept my terms?” All the old man could manage was a nod. “You will all swear before a heart tree.” Robb said as he sheathed his sword. “Your oaths will be bound in blood.”
The group left the tavern and walked out into the square, the rain was falling in heavy sheets, the wind making the tree’s branches flap and groan under the strain. One by one, all the captains swore to abide by Robb’s terms before the tree, sealing their contract.
“I will choose my captain soon enough.” Robb raised his voice over the wind and rain as he mounted Grey Wind. “Until then, remember this: You exist because House Stark allows it.” he reminded the captains. “You will end, if we command it.” Robb and Elowyn rode away, towards Winterfell.
With grim determination, he refused to look back at the captains. “Have I just make a mistake?” Robb asked the Mistwalker once they were long out of earshot.
“Well, if they weren’t praying for your father’s swift return before, they certainly are now.” She laughed.
The wind and the rain were still coming down hard when they made it to Winterfell’s main courtyard, they could barely see five feet in front of them. The castle’s warmth was a welcome relief from the cold outside. As Robb would be perfectly safe in the main keep, Elowyn went to stable her mount as Robb and Grey Wind wandered towards the main hall, looking for food.
The clacking of wooden swords drew Robb into the hall, he opened the doors and saw his aunt Lyanna and Jon sparring as Alyrianne, Bran, Arthur, Rickon and Alaric all watched, sitting on one of the benches in the hall. Jon and Lyanna had moved some of the long tables to give them a square to spar in.
Lyanna was laughing as she danced around Jon, striking high, then low. She had been trained as a Witcher under the tutelage of their great uncle Beric, according to him, she had great skill. It was clearly evident that he was right. Suddenly, she slipped her wooden sword right under Jon’s, pressing the sword point directly over his heart.
“Always remember children,” Lyanna chuckled. “Stick ‘em with the pointy end.” The younger siblings laughed and clapped their aunt, who bowed theatrically for them.
“There’s no shame in losing to Lyanna, Jon.” Robb consoled his twin as he walked over to them. “I’ve even seen uncle Arthur lose to her on occasion.” His siblings were certainly awed by that fact.
“One day, I want to beat uncle Arthur in a sword fight too.” Alyrianne piped up. “Then I can be the Sword of the Morning.”
“It doesn’t work like that.” Little Arthur turned to his sister. “Dawn’s like Foesmasher, only the worthy get to wield it.”
“Well who’s to say i’m not worthy?”
“You’ve never held it.”
“So?”
“It’s so unfair.” Bran rose to his feet, still a little unsteady as his legs had not fully healed. “You could wield Ice and Dawn together.” The eyes of the children of Robb’s Dayne mother all went wide as they realised that fact.
“Has anyone ever done that before?” Little Arthur turned to Robb, Jon and Lyanna. “Has anyone ever wielded uncle Arthur’s and father’s Greatswords together?”
For some reason, Lyanna burst out laughing. “It would certainly take someone of great skill and ability to handle both of those mighty weapons at the same time.” She giggled. “But enough about our family swords. I’m teaching you how to fight.”
Jon stepped forward, with many smaller wooden swords in his hands. “Pair off, and go through the sequence we showed you earlier,” he told them. “but slowly.” He emphasised.
The younger boys took up their positions and Lyanna paired with Alyrianne. Robb sat with his twin by one of the tables as they watched them practice.
“How fared you with the captains?” Jon asked, now that their younger siblings were distracted.
“They swore to follow my terms.” Robb informed him. “We’ll have to see if they keep to them.”
Jon hummed in agreement.
A sudden noise drew Robb’s attention to beneath the table. He swore when Jon’s newest familiar surprisingly got up from beneath the table.
“He likes to lie under the tables.” Jon informed him, chuckling.
“I’m surprised he can still fit under them.”
One of Jon’s wedding gifts from their father had been a Grandungr cub. It had been one of several dozen that their father had bought from Volantis in the hope of them being trained by the North’s wargs and integrated into their war beast collection.
They were massive creatures that could supposedly grow to the size of direwolves. They seemed to be half lion, half bull, with patches of hard black scales over parts of their fur. Legend said Grandungrs were originally created in Old Valyria, by their blood mages. They had outlived their creators and many now roamed wild in Essos.
They were powerful, strong and completely immune to fire. As many of the Valyrians were firebenders and they had a great many dragons, mounts that were immune to fire were incredibly valuable. As Jon was also a firebender, it seemed a good idea that he should have it. They certainly weren’t cheap. Their father had told them that he could have bought a fleet for the price of those cubs.
Jon had named his cub Toothless, ironic, as it had more teeth than Robb dared count. It was as black as a starless night, with burning blue eyes.
Once he was out from under the table, Toothless stood tall, stretched like Balerion did in the mornings, then wandered over to the fire burning in one of the hearths and curled up like a normal cat.
“It seems my cat is little different from Rhaenys’.” Jon chuckled.
“Lets hope somewhat less ill-tempered.”
“He seems amiable enough to me.” A voice came from behind them. The twins turned to see Talisa Maegyr standing behind them, draped in jewels and fine silks. She had come to Winterfell with her father from Volantis, having been sent by the city’s Triarchs to form a trade deal with the North. Talisa was a niece of Malaquo Maegyr, a Triarch from the Tiger faction of Volantis.
His uncle Benjen had needed to explain the political systems of Volantis to him multiple times before Robb felt he could understand them. The Tigers liked war and the Elephants liked trade. As the Elephants held two of the three Triarch seats, Volantis would focus on expanding their trade, hence the diplomatic mission to the North. They came with sweet words and many gifts, talking of the many resources that Volantis would like to trade with the North for, but Robb knew their true intention.
They want lower taxes for their traders through the Canal.
Robb stood and bowed. “It’s good to see you’re up, lady Talisa.”
“After last night, I’m surprised to see you standing.” Jon chuckled as he rose too.
“As am I…” Talisa blushed as she smiled at the twins. The first night Talisa arrived in Winterfell, Robb and Jon had given her the best fuck of her life, and the same again every night since. “It’s much too cold in the North for my tastes.” She sat with them by the fire.
“You would feel the cold less if you wore more.” Jon observed, his eyes roaming up and down her body. “Not that I think you should…”
“Volantis is much warmer than Winterfell.” Talisa smiled, arching her back, presenting herself to Jon and Robb’s gaze. “Anything thicker than this dress would be terrible in the heat. Why, sometimes it can get so hot, that we forgo clothes altogether.”
“I think i’m going to visit Volantis.” Robb chuckled.
Lyanna cocked her head to the side, having probably been listening to them as she taught the children. “Jon, I think it’s time we taught them how to disarm a foe.” With a disappointed huff, Jon got back onto his feet and picked up a wooden sword. “And Robb?” Lyanna continued. “You and lady Talisa can either join in or move on, you’re distracting your siblings.”
“As you wish auntie.” Robb stood, taking Talisa by the arm as they walked out of the hall, with Grey Wind padding behind them. “I’ve been meaning to tell you.” Robb said as they walked along a gallery towards the main keep, the heavy rain pattering against the glass of the windows. “Rhaenys found your small-clothes on the floor after you left, yesterday.”
“They were a gift.”
“Really?”
“You certainly earned them after your divine performance.”
“Well, they shall certainly be appreciated.” Robb chuckled. “Rhaenys tells me you’ve started teaching her how to play Cyvasse.”
“Yes…” A small blush crept up Talisa’s cheeks. “Suffice it to say that she isn’t half as proficient on the board as she is in bed.”
“Well… If I had to choose one or the other…” Robb greatly appreciated his wife’s skill in bed.
“Quite.” Talisa responded, as a low rumble of thunder echoed along the corridor. “Do you have many storms like this in the North?”
“Not that I can remember…” Robb answered, then recognised where Talisa was directing them. “We’re going towards my chambers…?”
“Yes.” Talisa looked up at him with a glint in her eye.
“Ah...”
The pair burst into Robb’s chambers, kissing and groping the whole way. After kicking the door closed, Robb ripped Talisa’s dress clean off her body.
“That was my best dress!” She shrieked, giggling as they made their way towards the bed.
“I’ll buy you another one.” Robb held her away from him for a second, so he could enjoy the sight of her body. Talisa was a beautiful slim woman, with firm, pert curves, dark hair and olive skin. “I’m going to fuck your arse.” Robb informed her, matter of factly. All she could do was smile and tremble in anticipation.
Robb picked Talisa up like she weighed nothing and dropped her onto the bed. She landed softly on the silk sheets. Taking control of her body, Robb moved her onto her hands and knees, before pushing her face down into the mattress. Her bouncy behind was completely exposed to him. Robb fell onto her from above, putting his whole weight down on her smaller frame. They were skin to skin, Talisa felt hot against him, especially as his cock was pressed into her round arse-cheeks.
“It’s time for your daily arse fucking.” Robb growled as he positioned himself accordingly, then thrust inside her quivering hole.
Talisa’s moans were muffled by the bedsheets as Robb ploughed her arse from behind. It wasn’t the first time she had been taken that way. Robb had claimed her anal virginity the first night she spent at Winterfell. Rhaenys and Elowyn had needed to muffle her cries with their massive tits. Since that night, Robb had demanded use of her arse every day. Talisa had happily complied.
“Fuuuuuuuuck! Gods!” Talisa moaned, thrashing helplessly beneath Robb’s thrusts. He owned her body completely, there was nothing she could do to stop him.
Robb pressed every inch of his cock into her arse, all the way in, stretching her like no other had before. He was rough and urgent with his fucking, taking her like a wolf as she screamed his name in a mixture of pain and euphoric pleasure.
“Maybe next time Jon and I take you together, we should both take your arse at the same time?” Robb laughed, smacking Talisa’s plump rear. “Would you like that?”
“Ugh! Ugh! Ugh!” Was all she could respond with, but her quivers told Robb she wanted it. Ygritte had been the only other woman so far who was able to take Robb and Jon in one whole at the same time. Not even Rhaenys could manage it, in spite of how hard she tried.
Robb savagely thrust all twelve inches of his cock deep into Talisa’s arse, she began to claw at the bedsheets as her whole body trembled under him. With a piercing shriek, Talisa squirted her pleasure all over the bed. Her explosive climax didn’t deter Robb, as he kept up a brutal pace, pillaging her arse for all it’s worth.
Taking her dark tresses in his fist, Robb pulled her head up from where it had fallen. Her eyes were heavily lidded and unfocused, her mouth hung open, drooling as she panted. “Have I ever told you how beautiful you look after I fuck you blind?”
Talisa only moaned weekly in response. With a wet plop, Robb withdrew himself from her gaping arse. Grabbing her ankle, he turned her onto her back, her plump breasts bounced as she flopped down. Her legs were on his shoulders when his throbbing cock teased the entrance to her cunt.
“Doesn’t it ever go soft?” She marvelled up at him.
“I’d have thought you’d have learned that by now.”
“I should have come to Winterfell years ago-oh! Oh! Ooooohhh!” Talisa’s words became a long string of moans as Robb parted her cunt walls with his shaft, diving deep inside her. “You two really have ruined me for all men that don’t have Stark cocks.” She laughed.
Robb grinned. “As it should be.”
Robb took one of her hard nipples into his mouth, sucking and pinching it as he slammed his footlong into her womb. Again and again. With his hands, he held her arms above her head. Talisa’s breath quickened as her muscles tensed in pleasure. Her head thrashed from side to side as her wails echoed off the stone walls of Robb’s bedchamber.
“Qooo-qogralbar nyke! Qogralbar nyke… Kostilus Rōb, kostilus… Qogralbar nyke.” Talisa was so deep in the whirlpool of passion, she started speaking Valyrian. Robb laughed as she begged him to fuck her harder in her mother tongue.
That lead to her second and third climaxes as Robb ploughed her stupid. Her mouth hung wide open, panting and screaming madly as her body betrayed her. Robb brutally railed her as he fucked her into the bed. Her legs were flopping around as she squirmed, her arms wrapped tightly around his back.
“Take my seed, Volanteen whore!” Robb shouted as he was nearing his end.
He slammed every inch of his cock deep into her. He held it there as rope after rope of his seed surged within her cunt. After several minutes, Robb flopped down onto the bed beside her, panting and sweaty.
After his liaison with Talisa, Robb found himself looking for his wife, leaving Talisa passed out on his bed. He found Rhaenys in the lower levels of Winterfell, where the Starks of old had piped the hot spring’s water into private circular pools.
As Robb walked into the hall, he saw Rhaenys was sitting in the pool with his sister Alysanne, Dacey Mormont, Smalljon Umber and Eddard Dhalark, called Eddy. They all sat around the edge in a circle. Grey Wind padded over to Mooney and Steelcoat, sniffing the other direwolves as they sat off to the side. Rhaenys beamed when she saw him.
“Join us, darling!” She called. “We got soaked out in the yard when it began to rain, so we decided to warm up.”
Alysanne made a vomiting sound as she covered her eyes. “Don’t ever call him ‘Darling’ in my presence again.”
“I shall call my husband what I wish.” Rhaenys giggled. Robb was beginning to divest himself of his clothes when another figure rose from beneath the surface of the water. She was beautiful and full figured. From the black hair and deep blue skin, Robb recognised her as Ariel, daughter of Lord Atlan, a Child of the Sea who had stayed in Winterfell after the recent weddings.
“Is the Prince Stark going to grace us with his presence?” Ariel stood in the centre of the pool completely nude, looking up at him with her pitch black eyes. Robb found their was something eerily beautiful about the Children of the Sea’s eyes. Like two black voids a man could drown in.
“I’m always happy to spend time with the people I rule over.” Robb smiled as he removed his breeches, freeing his cock to her gaze before walking into the pool.
“And the women of the North are very grateful to you.” Dacey bit her lower lip as she straightened up, raising her nipples above the water surface. Alysanne made vomiting noises again.
“And don’t compliment my brother’s cock either!” The others laughed at her displeasure.
“I didn’t say anything about how amazing Robb’s cock is…”
More fake vomiting sounds. “You were thinking it!”
“Yes I was…” Dacey laughed even harder.
Robb stood in from of Alysanne, who was sitting next to Rhaenys, leaning into her. “You’re in my seat, sis.” Robb put his hands on his hips.
Alysanne met his gaze with steely eyed defiance. “I was here first.”
“I married her.”
“You two are like a pair of pups fighting over your favourite toy.” Rhaenys giggled.
Eventually, Alysanne relented, rolling here eyes as she moved from Rhaenys. Robb replaced her quickly, submerging his lower half in the warm water as he sat next to his wife. He placed a hand on the small bump of her stomach, where their child was growing.
Alysanne muscled in between Rhaenys and Dacey, planting herself on Rhaenys’s left. “Now we both get her.” She said as she leaned into Rhaenys, giggling.
“Sandwiched between two Starks.” Rhaenys looked from side to side as she put her arms around Robb and Alysanne. “I can think of worse states to be in.”
“You should show Robb the waterbending move you showed us earlier.” Eddy turned to Rhaenys.
“Just remember to duck this time, Eddy.” Dacey laughed.
Rhaenys joined Dacey in laughing, before splashing her. “Oh fuck off. That only happened once.”
“I’d like to see how you’ve improved.” Robb stroked her thigh. Since their wedding, Rhaenys had been practicing with the spear father had given her, and the waterbending scroll. Many times Robb had found her standing in a bathtub, moving her arms back and forth, channeling the water.
Rhaenys stood in the centre of the pool, Robb’s eyes roamed over her spectacular curves easily. She had always been very well endowed, her pregnancy had enhanced her body to new heights. Her breasts and behind were even more abundant, her skin was almost glowing.
Dacey gave a low whistle, sitting between Eddard and Smalljon as they watched Rhaenys. She held them all spellbound as she took up her waterbending pose. Her arms swayed back and forth over the water, making it ripple and flow, mirroring her movements.
“I love watching you waterbend…” Smalljon said, Robb had to agree with him. Discounting the beauty of the magic in front of them, Rhaenys’ movements were making her monumental breasts bounce back and forth pleasantly, something Robb doubted anyone wouldn’t be able to enjoy.
“Gods, your breasts are divine…” Alysanne murmured as she looked up and down her body.
“Princess Catelyn’s are better.” Dacey countered, causing both Robb and Alysanne to shoot her an irritated look as Rhaenys laughed and let the wall of water fall back into the pool.
“I agree.” Eddy added, much to Robb’s annoyance. “I’ll remember those swimming lessons she gave us all until I am old and grey.” Smalljon and Ariel hummed in agreement, before Alysanne splashed them, making them laugh.
“Careful now,” Robb warned, pointing a finger at them. “I’ll hear no words of my mother…”
“Not two days ago, I caught you fucking both my sisters in MY bed!” Eddy exclaimed. “I’m not their keeper, if they wish to bed you, then I can’t stop them. By why does it have to happen in MY bed?”
“…It was the closest one…” Robb lied. In actuality it was their idea. They liked the danger of almost getting caught fucking in a place they shouldn’t have been. Unfortunately, Eddy had walked in on them. The sisters had been mortified, once they had regained composure after Robb had fucked them into the heavens. “Either way, none of you shall speak a word of my mother.” Robb ordered.
“I’m so very sorry, my Prince…” Dacey said, innocently. She began to crawl towards him in the pool, until she was kneeling right in front of him. “Is there anything I can do to earn your forgiveness?” She asked, before placing her hand on his cock. She angled the head out of the water and started to kiss it tenderly.
“That’s a fair way.” Robb hummed as Dacey began to suck his cock, ignoring Alysanne’s fake vomiting sounds.
“Seems a little unfair that they can earn forgiveness that way.” Smalljon said enviously, as he watched Dacey’s arse.
“I can happily accept it.” Rhaenys giggled, stroking Robb’s chest as she sat next to him.
“I see no issue.” Ariel was also watching as she bit her bottom lip.
“Neither do I…” Eddy smiled, Robb remembered that the Dhalark son liked both men and women in equal measure.
“Don’t make me start talking about father.” Alysanne threatened, as she sat, fuming. They all went quiet then. Robb moved Dacey off his cock, he didn’t feel like it anymore.
Smalljon was the first to talk. “I’m sure I speak for all of us when I say that our houses will happily follow what ever you decide to do, Robb.” The truth was Robb didn’t rightly know what he should do. But he could not let the others know that.
“I thank you for your support.” He answered. “What are your opinions on the matter?” Robb knew what Alysanne and Rhaenys thought, so he directed to question at the others.
“Well…” Smalljon began. “Two of your mothers took the Imp captive, they wouldn’t have done it if he wasn’t a wrong’n. Now the Lannisters attack your father? I say lets go south and smash the fuckers.”
“Perhaps that is easier said than done.” Robb answered his friend. “The consequences could be dire for breaking the king’s peace.”
“We should defend our allies.” Dacey piped up. “Excuse me…” She bowed her head a little. “They say Lannister men raid the Riverlands: Your mother’s home, it’s only right that we defend it.”
“Dacey’s right.” Samlljon voiced his agreement.
“We should be careful.” Eddy cut in. “If the Lannisters wanted to provoke us into war, would this not be how they would do it?” He asked. “If we attacked them, they might say that we started the war and call for the king to march against us.”
“Robb’s father is the Hand!” Smalljon asserted. “He’d tell the king that the Lannisters are the true villains.”
“Prince Stark was attacked on the streets of King’s Landing by Lannister men and the king went hunting.” Eddy countered. “I fear he may not be the friend that the Stark of Starks remembers.”
It was then where Ariel began to speak, entering the conversation. “In Notlantis, we have a saying: You can either swim along with the currents, or be crushed by them.” She looked directly at Robb with her fathomless, black eyes. “We may not want war, but I feel it is coming whether you wish it or not. All you can decide is if you want to be prepared.”
Robb stroked his chin thoughtfully as he pondered their words. “You’ve given me much to think about.” He thanked them. “Now I fear I must away.” Robb stood.
“I’ll join you.” Rhaenys stood too and they both stepped out of the pool.
Rhaenys had them all enraptured again as she dried herself by engulfing her body in fire. She looked half a goddess, standing there naked, wreathed in flame. In an instant, she was as dry as a bone. Robb drying himself was a much less majestic sight. Soon enough they were both dry and clothed again as they bid their farewells and walked out of the hall arm in arm, with their wolves following them.
“I’ve been thinking of a name for the babe.” Rhaenys said as she took his hand, they were walking together through one of Winterfell’s many corridors.
“Oh?” Robb turned to his wife.
“If it’s a boy…” She stopped. “I want to call him Aegon…”
Oh…
Rhaenys didn’t talk much about her younger brother. Robb had never wanted to press her, but he had always stood with her in Winterfell’s graveyard where Aegon had been buried. She had been so young when he was murdered.
Rhaenys had once admitted to him during a long and dark night as they held each other in bed, that she couldn’t actually remember her little brother, but she did remember missing him.
Robb didn’t know that pain, and he prayed he never would. He couldn’t imagine a world without Jon in it, or any of his other siblings.
Robb suddenly became all to aware that he hadn’t said anything. “Aegon Stark? It’s perfect. I’d love to name our babe Aegon.”
Rhaenys looked up at him with glassy eyes. “Truly?”
“Yes.” Robb smiled, squeezing her hand. “He would be the second Aegon Stark.”
“Oh?”
“One of Jonnel Stark and Daena Targaryen’s sons was the first Aegon Stark.” Robb informed her.
“Didn’t they have a dozen children?” Rhaenys look up inquisitively.
“I don’t think we need to have that many…” Robb smiled down at her.
“It’s somewhat strange…” Rhaenys gave a small laugh. “I knew i’d be having your children one day… To be honest, I didn’t expect it quite so soon.”
“Are you having doubts?” Truth be told, Robb had not expected to be a father so soon either. Which, looking back on it, had been a foolish belief to hold. Rhaenys had him at least twice a day, every day since they had first laid together. Memories of those first few weeks brought a smirk to his face. In the first seven days of their relationship, Robb didn’t remember either of them leaving his bedchambers once.
“I’m not having any doubts at all…” Rhaenys giggled. “That’s what’s surprising me.” She paused, and leaned against one of the windows that lined the wall, looking out at the pouring rain. “It’s strange. Mother had difficulty bearing children, it’s not a big leap to imagine that I will too… Yet I do not fear it.”
Robb placed a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll be with you the whole time.”
“Swear to me.” Rhaenys faced Robb again.
“I swear it, by the Old Gods and the New.” Robb vowed.
“…Have I ever told you how much I love you?”
“Once or twice…”
“The correct answer was ‘I love you too’.” Rhaenys laughed.
“I love you too…” Robb placed a hand on the bump of her belly. “Both of you.”
He leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. Rhaenys was pressed against the stone wall as their heated embrace deepened. He wanted to surround her, keep her safe from the troubles of the world. If Robb was a lesser man, he might have confined her to their chambers, keeping her safe. But that would be unfair to her, so Robb had to let go of his fears and hope things would not go ill for them.
“We love you more.” She hummed after they pulled apart, nipping at Robb’s lower lip.
Robb brushed a lock of her dark hair from her beautiful face. “I find it best not to argue with my wife.”
“Good boy.” They began to kiss again, this time with more fervour. Robb ran his hands along her soft curves, feeling her body pressing against him. “Though we probably shouldn’t be fucking in the corridor again…” They both laughed. “Wouldn’t want your mother to walk in on us again.” Robb’s Dayne mother found them fucking like animals in a secluded corner of Winterfell. She had only laughed, saying that they should be glad neither Elia nor Catelyn had been the one to find them. “Speaking of your mother.” Rhaenys continued. “I shall be meeting with her and the stewards soon. She’s teaching me how to be the Lady of Winterfell.”
“Then I shall leave you in peace, I wanted to talk to Sabrina anyway.” With that, Robb left her, Grey Wind following closely behind.
Robb exited Winterfell’s main keep to the sound of rumbling thunder as lightning crackled through the sky. Gods, will this deluge never end? It was only a short journey to the Palace of Magic, the quarters of the Mages Guild and the academy where they taught new magic users for the North. Val was currently studying there, under the tutelage of Galadriel, the high mage.
The palace was less than half the size of Winterfell’s main keep, yet it was still massive. It’s ornate design would have looked very impressive, if Robb could see it properly through the rain. Robb entered the palace through the main gate, where the door mage kindly dried Robb in moments with a spell.
The corridors were packed with students going from one class to the next, Robb was reminded of the time he spent learning at the school when he was younger. Him, his siblings and the other sons and daughters of the North’s nobility all being taught together by the most learned mages and druids in the realm. The world had been simpler back then.
Eventually, Robb found his way to Sabrina’s offices, where he found Yennefer’s and Sabrina’s daughters, his little sisters, on the floor reading a big book of magic. Yennefer’s was Ciri, a girl of 8, the other was Rhea, who was only a year younger. Ciri looked the opposite of her mother, with white hair and green eyes. Rhea’s hair was almost exactly like Robb’s only a shade more blonde, with blue eyes.
“Robb!” They both exclaimed when they say him, with the excitement only little girls could muster.
“Hello girls.” Robb said warmly as they rushed towards him.
“We’ve been reading this!” Rhea held the book out for him to see.
“We’re learning how to move rocks without touching them!” Ciri added.
“Very interesting.” Robb chuckled, remembering when Yennefer had given him that same book to learn from. “Is your mother around?”
“I’m here Robb.” Sabrina answered when she walked through the door that lead to the connecting library. She was immaculate as most mages often were, wearing a beautiful gown to emphasised her substantial curves.
“Ah. Good.” Robb turned to talk to her. “I would have words with you.”
“We’ll be in the other room girls.” Sabrina told Robb’s sisters as they went back to their book.
He followed Sabrina through the small library into her main office. It was an octagonal room with four of the walls having windows of stained glass. A tapestry hung on another wall, showing a detailed map of the North, Robb was reminded of a similar one that hung in his father’s solar. A large weirwood desk sat in front of a fire that blazed in the hearth. Robb sat in one of the cushioned chairs as Sabrina poured him a glass of kanar.
“Have a drink,” she handed him the glass. “you seem agitated.”
“I still have dreams about having to come here for lessons.” Robb japed, accepting the glass and taking a drink, the vintage was a little sweeter than he was used to.
“Were they such a chore?” Sabrina smirked, sitting on the desk in front of him. Robb was reminded of how beautiful he and everyone else in their class had found her. “You quite enjoyed some of my lessons.”
“You could a strict teacher.”
“True. But you did learn.”
“That I did.”
Sabrina took another sip from her glass then set it on the desk. “You want my advice.” She wasn’t asking.
“Am I that easy to read?”
“Your father makes the exact same face.” She answered. That filled Robb with a sense of pride.
“The Lannisters.” He began. “It seems all roads ahead of us lead to a conflict with them. What do you think I should do?”
Sabrina pondered her answer for a few moments. She rose from the desk and went to sit in her chair. “I agree I fight seems inevitable. As to your question, I would suggest you take stock of the many resources you have at your disposal.”
“I can call sixty thousand men to-“
“You’re thinking as a battle commander.” Sabrina interrupted him.
“Is that wrong?” Robb could not help but feel he was fifteen years old again, being taught by the beautiful, bit stern witch.
“No… But you’re not only a commander, you are a prince of a whole kingdom. You have weapons other than swords at your disposal.”
“You mean our dragons?” The Starks did have a great many dragons to call upon, even if most of them were without a rider.
“Certainly a valuable resource to consider, but you’re still thinking militarily…” Sabrina said, measuredly. “Allow me to reframe my point.” She stood and walked around the room, before turning back to Robb and leaning on the wall to the left of the tapestry map. “What to the Lannisters value above all else?”
Robb began to think. He went over the time he spent with Myrcella, what he had observed of the Lannisters during their visit, what his father had told him of them, what they had done to his mother. Finally he came to his answer. “Their pride.”
“Correct.” Sabrina smiled and gave him a nod, making Robb feel proud of himself. “And what are they most proud of?”
An easy question. “Their vast amounts of gold.”
“If you wish to hurt a Lannister, wound their pride. How? Take their gold.”
Robb pondered Sabrina’s meaning. Taking gold was easier said than done. Surely she did not intend for them to break into Casterly Rock and steal the Lannister gold from under Tywin’s nose. His eyes fell on Sabrina again.
There’s a reason she stood by the map… Many resources…
“The Great Canal!”
“Exactly!” Sabrina applauded. “Do you have any idea just how much wealth is earned from the Canal in a year?”
“No.”
“Neither do I. But Tywin Lannister does, and it’s loss would hurt him more than any defeat on the field. When you are the Stark of Starks, you should be aware that military might is not the only option you have. Trade can be an incredibly powerful weapon against our foes. War is not good for business.”
Robb stood up and walked over to the map, tracing his finger along the canal. “We could hold Westerlander ships indefinitely at White Harbour on the western side and at Rypeak on the eastern.” Then another idea came. “Or even confiscate their cargo and sell it ourselves. Lords Ryder and Manderly might object to a loss of trade, but they’d both welcome the gold they’d make from selling the cargo themselves.”
Sabrina was clearly impressed by his ideas, she added her own. “They could even be instructed to sell the cargo to ships from the Reach. It would strain the relationship between the Tyrells and the Lannisters.”
An idea that certainly deserved more attention, even if the thought of manipulating two kingdoms against each other didn’t sit to well with him.
“Tywin Lannister would be less likely to commit to a war to the east if he feels he is weak to the south.”
“Just so.” Sabrina said. “However, there is something you need to consider…”
Robb knew the paths her mind was walking. “Lady Genna…”
“Yes, there’s a reason Tytos Lannister married his daughter to the future lord Ryder. Control of the Great Canal is a powerful thing, even just a portion of it.”
The thought didn’t sit well with Robb. “You can’t think she would convince lord Ryder to betray us? Jon’s married to two of their daughters.”
“I don’t think it’s likely.” Sabrina admitted. “But I would suggest at least a conversation. Perhaps a letter from his sister might dissuade lord Tywin from his current path.”
“A conversation then.” Robb agreed. “It seems after all these years, I still have much to learn from you.”
“Good.” Sabrina raised her glass. “Anyone who thinks they have nothing left to learn is a fool.”
When Robb was done with Sabrina, he set off to find lady Genna, unfortunately getting soaked again on the journey back to the main keep. A passing servant told Robb he saw her with Jon earlier. Robb knew what that meant. He was surprised to see Ygritte standing to attention outside her and Jon’s chambers like she was still his sworn shield.
“What are you doing out here?” Robb asked as Grey Wind greeted Cinder, Ygritte’s direwolf.
“Jon is trying to break me.” Ygritte said through gritted teeth. “He will not succeed.” It was then that Robb heard the moans and cries of pleasure through the thick oak door behind her. Robb chuckled to himself, earning a look of annoyance from Ygritte.
You dog, Jon. Making your wife stand guard while you fuck her mother.
Robb sidestepped her and pushed the heavy oak door open. The heady scent of sweat and sex hit him first, like the fist of an angry giant. Then it was the sight of Genna Ryder, naked as the day she was born, on all fours on a desk, as Jon ploughed her from behind, making her very abundant curves bounce madly. Her skin was flushed and sweaty, Jon had gathered her long blonde hair into a fist and was using it to pull her back onto him. Robb almost didn’t notice Val was passed out on the floor, as naked as her mother, Jon’s seed coating her arse and back.
“FUCK ME!” Genna screamed as Robb closed the door behind him. “FUCK ME! GGODDDS! JON! SO GOOOD!”
Jon grunted and struck her arse in response, making Genna scream and quiver as her climax ripped through her, before falling down to the desk.
Robb coughed to get their attention.
Jon looked up. “Hello Robb.” He said with a smile, not slowing his pace.
“Jon.” Robb greeted his brother nonchalantly, walking over to the pitcher of wine, stepping over Val’s prone body. “I see Val lacks Ygritte’s fortitude.”
“She couldn’t resist.” Jon laughed.
Robb poured himself a glass of wine, then indicated it towards Genna. “I would like to speak to her.”
“She’s indisposed at this time.” Jon smacked Genna’s massive arse again, making her moan incoherently.
“You can finish fucking her later.” Robb stepped over Val again, walking over to a chair where sat down.
“Fine… Just another minute?”
“I’m counting down.”
Jon began to thrust enthusiastically into Genna with renewed vigour, chasing his end. He found it within a few dozen more thrusts, depositing his seed deep into the womb of his wives’ mother.
Jon disconnected from her with a wet Phlat!He then placed her on a chair opposite Robb, giving her a few light slaps to wake her up. Genna lethargically opened her eyes with a smile on her face, then she stretched like a cat, making her exceedingly large breasts move pleasantly.
“Could I have some wine?” She asked, clearing her throat. Jon, who was now leaning against the desk, poured her one. “Thank you, stud…” She eyed Jon’s cock, before turning to Robb. “I believe I heard that you wanted to talk, my prince.”
“About lord Tywin.” Robb began. He knew that he would have to be the one to commence this, Jon was more than happy to be quiet and watch rather than talk.
“Ah…” Genna took a swig of wine and cleared her throat. “I’ve already sent letters-“
“Ygritte and Val already told us.” Jon interrupted her.
Genna looked from Jon to Robb. “I do not want bloodshed.” She said earnestly.
“None of us do.” Robb answered.
Genna rested her wine glass on her knee. “I have been a Ryder since before your parents met. I am loyal to my husband and my house.”
Robb raised his hand defensively. “I did not mean to offend.”
“I am not offended. I do not blame you for thinking I am conflicted over my loyalties.”
“Are you?”
Genna cast he eyes downward to her glass before she spoke. “I love my brothers… and I wish there was another way.” She paused. “But I love my husband and my children more. I am loyal to the North. If you call my husband to march against Tywin… While I certainly won’t be pleased that my husband is in danger, I will not stop him.”
Robb quickly glanced at Jon, it was all he needed to know they were of the same mind. It was the answer they had both been hoping for. Neither would question Genna Ryder’s loyalty gladly, she was Val and Ygritte’s mother. Neither of them could imagine themselves in a position where they would have to choose their wives or each other. They certainly didn’t envy Genna’s position.
“I plan to seize Lannister ships using the Great Canal.” Robb explained, Jon raised an eyebrow thoughtfully. “Perhaps the lost profit will dissuade your brother from war.”
“Thank you, Robb.” She beamed at him. “It gladdens my heart to hear you won’t jump to war as a first resort.”
“But if war does come-“
“I am loyal to my husband, my children and to you.” Genna affirmed.
“Good.” Robb got to his feet, setting his glass down on the desk. “If all is said, I will leave you to continue.”
Genna also rose from her seat and padded towards him, still naked. “Join us?” She looked up at him with beautiful green eyes, before reaching to Robb’s glass and downing the remains in one gulp. “To hear the girls tell it, being between two Stark cocks is an unbeatable experience, I should love to try it.”
“Next time, I have things to do.”
Genna shrugged and threw her arms around Jon’s neck, kissing him intently. The door burst open with a five foot tall redhead looking very annoyed with them.
“Ugh… Fuck it.” Ygritte swore, before stomping into the room, ripping off her tunic.
“Knew you’d break.” Jon laughed as Ygritte wrenched Genna from his grasp and threw her onto the desk.
“Fuck you, Jon Stark.” Ygritte seethed before pulling Jon into a heated embrace. After a few moments they pulled apart and Jon pushed Ygritte down on top of Genna.
“I believe your mother’s been doing just that.” He chuckled.
“Careful Jon, they might eat you alive.” Robb warned his brother as he turned to leave the room.
“I would die a happy man.” Jon said, then he whispered in Ygritte’s ear. “Genna looks a lot like you when she’s got my cock up her arse.” Robb heard a slap as Ygritte struck Jon’s chest, only for Jon to laugh all the more.
Robb was wandering to nowhere in particular when a servant called to him, telling him that Luwin and his mother were waiting for him in his father’s solar with an urgent message.
“This arrived on Hagman’s eagle.” Luwin handed Robb a piece of parchment when he arrived. He could scarcely believe the words on it.
“I…”
“The girls are safe and on their way home.” His Dayne mother reassured him. “But they’ve captured your father… and my brother.”
“We received this shortly after.” Luwin pulled out another letter. “It is the queen's words. You’re summoned to King's Landing to swear fealty to the new king.”
“Joffrey puts my father in chains, now he wants his arse kissed?” Robb seethed, throwing the letter on the table.
“This is a royal command, my Prince.” Luwin advised cautiously. “If you should refuse to obey...”
“I won't refuse. If His Grace summons me to go to King's Landing, I'll go to King's Landing. But not alone…” So much for avoiding a war. “Call the banners.”
“All of them, my Lord?”
“They've all sworn to defend my father, have they not?”
“They have.”
“Now we'll see what the words are worth.”
“As you command.” Luwin gave a wry smile and left Robb alone with his Dayne mother.
“You’re afraid.” She said, as she rested her head on his shoulder.
“Yes.” Robb answered in a small voice.
“Good.”
“Why is that good?”
“It means you understand the risk we’re about to take.”
There was an almighty crash and a sound so loud it shook the foundations of Winterfell. They both rushed out of the solar to see what had happened. They saw others doing the same as they left the keep, thankfully the storm had left them.
“It’s gone!” Robb heard Alyrianne shouting through the courtyard.
“What’s gone?” He asked his little sister.
“The hammer! Foesmasher! I saw it smash through a window. It’s flying south!”
***************************************************************************************************
Cat
It was too far to make out the banners clearly, but even through the drifting fog of the canal she could see that they were white, with a dark smudge in their center that could only be the direwolf of Stark. When she saw it with her own eyes, Cat straightened up as she leant against the forecastle of the ship and thanked the gods. They were not too late.
“I can see them.” Elia said beside her, taking her hand. Looking over to her wife, Cat let out a small smile.
“They await our coming, princess,” Ser Wylis Manderly said, “as my lord father swore they would.”
“His ships are as fast as he promised.” Cat’s Uncle, Ser Brynden Tully patted the the guard rail of the ship as he smiled.
“The fastest on the east or west coast of Westeros.” Ser Wendel said proudly.
Their ship was at the head of a column, leading the forces of House Manderly to meet up with the main northern army as they camped at Moat Cailin. All told, they were just over four thousand men, near two hundred knights with their squires closely following, with another four hundred mounted lances, Rangers and other freeriders. The rest were footmen, armed with spears, pikes and tridents. All of them packed into ten Galleons that sailed from White Harbour, along the Great Canal, to Moat Cailin.
It had been many years since Cat had seen the Great Canal, she had almost forgotten it’s vastness. It was a structure to match the magnificence of the Wall, Cat had no trouble believing that the Giants were needed to help build it. Their flotilla traveled in single file, though they did not need to. Three of their ships could safely sail side by side through the canal, with space to spare. Cat found herself wondering how many hundreds of ships passed through the canal in a year.
It wasn’t surprising that houses Ryder and Manderly were the richest houses in the North, other than house Stark, even surpassing the great Dwarf houses that mined gold and gemstones in the northern mountains. As each of those houses were charged with the guardianship of the canal, the west, middle and east respectively.
Lord Wyman, the guardian of the east side of the canal had remained behind to see to the defenses of White Harbor. A man of near sixty years, he had grown too fat to even mount his horse. “If I had thought to see war again in my lifetime, I should have eaten a few less eels,” he’d told Cat and Elia when he met their ship, slapping his massive belly with both hands. His fingers were fat as sausages. “My boys will see you safe to your sons, though, have no fear.”
His “boys” were both older than Cat and Elia, she might have wished that they did not take after their father quite so closely. They were both fat from a life of plenty and over indulgence. Wylis was quiet and formal, Wendel loud and boisterous. Yet she liked them well enough; they had gotten her and Elia to their children, as their father had vowed, and nothing else mattered.
“Our children are leading a host to war…” Elia said as their ship approached one of the many docks that Moat Cailin maintained. She could sense the apprehension in Elia’s voice.
“I can scarcely believe it myself.” Cat was desperately afraid for them, and for Winterfell, yet she could not deny feeling a certain pride as well.
Members of the Ice Guard greeted them warmly as the ship’s crew threw lines to the dock workers, so the ship could be pulled in and tied down. Ser Wylis remained behind with his men to see them properly disembarked and the horses tended, while his brother Wendel went with Cat, her uncle and Elia to present their father’s respects to their liege lord.
Together, the group went up the long, wide granite stairs that lead from the docks, to the main keep. They walked past men going up and down the stairs, heavy-laden with hardbread, salt beef and other supplies. When they finally reached the peak of the stairs, the great main keep of Moat Cailin stood before them, with hundreds of banners flying high over it.
Just beyond the keep, Cat glimpsed the high walls and towers of Moat Cailin. It was smaller than Winterfell, but no less intimidating. The main keep and other structures around it resided at the top of a great hill on the south side of the canal, connected to the north over two great wooden bridges. Three sets of high, thick walls protected the castle from the south, each with a gatehouse near as big as the main keep. All together, the three sets of walls had fifty tall towers, commanding strong positions against any would-be attackers below them.
Cat had read in a book that the Children of the Forest had once called upon the Old Gods to send the hammer of the waters on Westeros from this stronghold, and broken the arm of Dorne, creating the thousand islands that were now called the Step-Stones. Cat had once asked Sylvie if that had been true, she hadn’t been able to answer as Ned had been railing her as if his life had depended on it.
“Gods have mercy,” Brynden exclaimed when he saw what lay before them. “I pity any fool that dares storm this place.”
“It’s even worse than you think.” Elia told him. “Ned explained it all to us when we first saw it. Any army that attacks this castle must first march down a very long, very thin winding causeway to get to even the first gatehouse, all the while being pelted with arrows, magic and stones from Moat Cailin.”
“The bogs here are impenetrable,” Cat added. “full of quicksands and suckholes, teeming with snakes and lizard-lions. In the unlikely event that they manage to get through the first wall, an army would need to wade through waist-deep black muck, cross a moat full of lizard-lions, and scale walls slimy with moss, all the while exposing themselves to archers in the towers.” She gave her uncle a grim smile. “And when night falls, there are said to be ghosts, cold vengeful spirits of the north who hunger for southron blood.” They weren’t even mentioning the horrors that awaited an enemy army that dared cross the Neck, Crannogmen, Lizardmen and stories even told of a Guardian over the Neck, a great Lizard monster that could swallow a dragon whole.
Brynden chuckled. “Remind me not to linger here. Last I looked, I was southron myself.”
Cat and Elia set off towards the main keep, with Brynden and Ser Wendel following. They found their children surrounded by the lords of the North and to their surprise, Ash, in a drafty hall with a peat fire smoking in a black hearth. Robb, Jon, Rhaenys and Alysanne were seated at a massive stone table, a pile of maps and papers in front of them, talking intently with Ash, Benjen, Donmar Dhalark and Greatjon.
At first they did not notice them... but the wolves did. The great beasts were lying near the fire, but when Cat and Elia entered they lifted their heads. The lords fell silent one by one, Ash was the first to see them, she quickly left the table and hurried over, taking Cat and Elia in her arms. She had missed the smell of her Dayne wife. Cat looked over to see all of the children were standing now, looking at them.
Cat wanted to run to them, to kiss them, to wrap them in her arms and hold them so tightly that they would never come to harm... but here in front of the lords, she dared not. They were leaders of the North, she had to push down her motherly wants, at least where others could see them. So Cat held herself at the far end of the basalt slab they were using for a table, Elia and Ash joined her, she could tell they were feeling the same thing. Redmane got to her feet and happily scampered over to where she stood.
Cat was the first to speak. “You’ve grown beards,” she said to her sons, while her wolf sniffed her hand.
Robb and Jon looked to each other, rubbing their stubbled jaws. “Yes.” Robb’s chin hairs were redder than the ones on his head.
“I like them.” Cat stroked her wolf’s head, gently. “It makes you look like my brother Edmure. And you,” she turned to Jon. “It makes you look even more like your father.” Jon battled the grin as it spread across his features.
Ser Helman Tallhart was the first to walk across the room to pay his respects, kneeling before her and Elia. “Princesses” he said, “you are both fair as ever, a welcome sight in troubled times.” The Glovers followed, Galbart and Robett, Rodrik Martark, Sylvie, and Greatjon Umber, and the rest, one by one.
Donmar was the last, a completely bald man with a small black beard. “I had not looked to see either of you here, Princess,” he said as he knelt.
“We had not thought to be here,” Elia said, “until we came ashore at White Harbor, and Lord Wyman told us that Robb had called the banners. You know his son, Ser Wendel,” Wendel Manderly stepped forward and bowed as low as his girth would allow.
Cat spoke now. “And my uncle, Ser Brynden Tully, who has left my sister’s service for mine.”
“The Blackfish,” Jon said, slightly in awe. “Thank you for joining us, ser. We have all heard tell of your many great victories during the last Blackfyre rebellion from our uncle Beric. We need men of your courage.”
“And you, Ser Wendel,” Robb added. “I am glad to have you here. Is Rodrik with you as well, Mother? We’ve missed that old Ranger.”
“Rodrik is on his way north from White Harbor.” Cat answered. “I have named him castellan and commanded him to hold Winterfell till our return. Luwin is a wise counsellor, but unskilled in the arts of war.”
“Have no fear on that count, Princess Stark,” the Greatjon told her in his bass rumble. “Winterfell is safe. We’ll shove our swords up Tywin Lannister’s bunghole soon enough, begging your pardons, and then it’s on to the Red Keep to free Ned.”
“That’s certainly a plan I can agree with.” Elia nodded to the giant of a man.
“My lady, a question, as it please you.” Roose Bolton, Lord of the Dreadfort, had a small voice, yet when he spoke larger men quieted to listen. His eyes were curiously pale, almost without color, and his look disturbing. “It is said that you both hold Lord Tywin’s dwarf son as captive. Have you brought him to us? We should make good use of such a hostage.”
“We did hold Tyrion Lannister, but no longer,” Elia admitted. A chorus of consternation greeted the news.
“We are no more pleased than you, my lords.” Cat added her voice to her wife’s. “The gods saw fit to free him…”
“With some help from your fool of a sister.” Elia added. “Sorry Cat…”
“No, you are completely right to say it.” Cat pinched the bridge of her nose. “My sister is a fool, as I am for trusting her.” She ought not to be so open in her contempt, Cat knew, but her sister had been so far removed from the girl she knew that she might as well have been a different person. Lysa had seemed near deranged, keeping her son with her at all times, muttering about Petyr. Cat had not the heart to tell her what really happened to him. From his confession, Cat knew they had been lovers, seeing little Robert Arryn, she could not deny it. She was still wondering how she could tell Ned that Jon Arryn’s son was really a Baelish.
Parting from the Eyrie had not been pleasant affair. She had offered to take little Robert with her, to foster him at Winterfell for a few years. Even if he was not Jon Arryn’s son, the company of other boys would do him good, she had dared to suggest. Lysa’s rage had been frightening to behold. “Sister or no,” she had replied, “if you try to steal my son, you and your Dornish harlot will leave by the Moon Door.” After that there was no more to be said.
The lords were anxious to question them further, but Cat raised a hand. “No doubt we will have time for all this later, but our journey has fatigued us. We would speak with our children alone. I know you will forgive us, my lords.” She gave them no choice; led by the ever-obliging Lord Hornwood, the bannermen bowed and took their leave.
There was ale and cheese on the table. Cat, Ash and Elia all sat at the table, as their children sat down too. “I suppose we should congratulate you, mother.” Rhaenys smiled at Elia. “It took you long enough to marry him.” She giggled.
“I suppose it did…” Elia responded, he hand ghosting over the small bump of her belly. Cat did not envy what Elia would have to tell Rhaenys about her brother’s true parentage.
“I’m the only woman in this room, who isn’t pregnant.” Alysanne said, with a laugh, after looking around.
“With the amount of men you take to bed, nightly, that’s sure to change.” Ash laughed into her cup.
“I am a Stark, mother.” Alysanne asserted. “It doesn’t seem right for me to only have one partner.”
“You know... about Father?” Jon asked them from across the table, cutting straight to the meat.
“Yes.” Cat answered. The reports of Robert’s sudden death and Ned’s fall had frightened Cat more than she could say, but she would not let her children see her fear.
“Lord Manderly told us when we landed at White Harbor.” Elia explained. “Have you had any word of your sisters?”
“They got out of King’s Landing with the majority of the household.” Ash said. “Not long before we left, we received a letter from the queen, telling us how she holds Ned and Arthur. They are her hostages in the Black Cells.”
“I had hoped... If you still held the Imp, a trade of hostages...” Robb grumbled, clearly trying not to blame her. “Is there word from the Eyrie? I wrote to Aunt Lysa, asking help. Has she called Lord Arryn’s banners, do you know? Will the knights of the Vale come join us?”
“Only one,” Cat said, “the best of them, my uncle... but Brynden Blacksh was a Tully first. My sister is not about to stir beyond her Bloody Gate.”
Robb took it hard. “What are we going to do? We brought this whole army together, over sixty thousand men, but I don’t... I’m not certain...” Cat wanted to go to him then, to take him in her arms and tell him that everything would be alright. But she could not let him despair.
“What are you so afraid of?” She asked gently.
“I...” He took a deep breath as Rhaenys reached for his hand. “If we march... What’s to stop them from killing father and uncle Arthur?”
“If they did not hold Prince Stark, we could ride our dragons to King’s Landing and end the war in a day.” Rhaenys said hotly, her Targaryen and Dornish fire showing.
“And therein lies their reason.” Cat told them.
“What do you mean?”
“Ned and Arthur are extremely valuable.” Cat explained. “If we were to defeat the Lannister forces in the field, then the Lannisters would be able to exchange them for their own lives. If the gods are with us and we should chance to take Lord Tywin or the Kingslayer captive, then a trade might very well be possible, but that is not the heart of it. So long as we have power enough that they must fear us, Ned and Arthur should be safe. Cersei is wise enough to know that she may need them to make her peace, should the fighting go against her.”
“What if the fighting doesn’t go against her?” Jon asked. “What if it goes against us?”
“We cannot soften the truth for you.” Ash said. “If we lose, there is no hope for any of us.“
Jon and Robb locked eyes for a moment, a look of grim resolve came over them both. “Then we will not lose.” Robb affirmed.
“Tell us what you know of the fighting in the riverlands,” Cat said. She needed to know if they had a good plan.
“Less than a fortnight past, they fought a battle in the hills below the Golden Tooth,” Robb said. “Uncle Edmure had sent Lord Vance and Lord Piper to hold the pass, but the Kingslayer descended on them and put them to flight. Lord Vance was slain. The last word we had was that Lord Piper was falling back to join your brother and his other bannermen at Riverrun, with Jaime Lannister on his heels. That’s not the worst of it, though. All the time they were battling in the pass, Lord Tywin was bringing a second Lannister army around from the south. It’s said to be even larger than Jaime’s host.”
“Father must have known that,” Jon added. “because he sent out some men to oppose them, under the king’s own banner. He gave the command to some southron lordling, only it was a trap. The lord had no sooner crossed the Red Fork than the Lannisters fell upon him, the king’s banner be damned, the Lannisters took them in the rear as they tried to pull back across the Mummer’s Ford. Some might have escaped, no one is certain, but Ser Raymun was killed, and most of our men from Winterfell. Lord Tywin has closed off the kingsroad, it’s said, and now he’s marching north toward Harrenhal, burning as he goes.”
Grim and grimmer, thought Cat. It was worse than she’d imagined. “You mean to meet him here?” she asked.
“If he comes so far, but no one thinks he will,” Robb answered her. “We’ve given orders to Howland Reed, Lord Martark and The Order of the Mist. If the Lannisters come up the Neck, they will die. But Galbart Glover says Tywin is too smart for that, the rest agree. He knows he can’t touch us here. So, he’ll stay close to the Trident, they believe, taking the castles of the river lords one by one, until Riverrun stands alone. We need to march south to meet him.”
Cat knew with all her heart that she hated her children going to war, but it seemed there was no other choice. “You said you brought sixty thousand men with you. The land cannot support that many more men.”
“Yes,” Rhaenys agreed. “our food and supplies are running low, and this is not land we can live off easily. We’ve been waiting for Lord Manderly, but now that his sons have joined us, we need to march.”
“Marching is all very well,” Elia said, “but where, and to what purpose? What do you mean to do?”
“We have eight dragons.” Rhaenys said. “Mine, Robb’s, Jon’s and Alysanne’s, with Lyanna’s, Benjen’s, Alfred’s and Osric’s.” Cat knew Osric had only seen sixteen namedays, she wondered how Benjen was coping with sending him to war. “Soon Sansa will be back in the North, and we’ll have another dragon rider.”
“Nine dragons…” Elia said. It was certainly a great advantage.
“Only four of which have ever seen a battle.” Cat said, perhaps harsher than she’d meant. “All the others are young and small.”
Robb hesitated. “Uncle Benjen did say we shouldn’t overly rely on our dragons. The Greatjon thinks we should take the battle to Lord Tywin and surprise him,” he said, “but the Glovers and the Karstarks feel we’d be wiser to go around his army and join up with Uncle Edmure against the Kingslayer.” He ran his fingers through his shaggy mane of auburn hair, looking unhappy. “I’m not certain...”
“Be certain,” Cat told her son, “or go home and take up that wooden sword again. You cannot afford to be indecisive against Tywin Lannister. Make no mistake, Robb—he has fought more battles than you have, he has experience. You named yourself battle commander. Command.”
Robb set his jaw. “Alright.”
“I’ll ask you again. What do you mean to do?”
They all looked to Robb as he drew a map across the table, a ragged piece of old leather covered with lines of faded paint. One end curled up from being rolled; he weighed it down with his dagger. “Both plans have virtues, but... look, if we try to swing around Lord Tywin’s host, we take the risk of being caught between him and the Kingslayer… The Greatjon says we catch him with his breeches down, but it seems to me that a man who has fought as many battles as Tywin Lannister won’t be so easily surprised.”
“Good…” Cat said. She could hear echoes of Ned in his voice, as he sat there, puzzling over the map. “What else?”
“I’d leave a small force here to hold Moat Cailin, and march the rest down the causeway,” he said, “but once we’re below the Neck, I’d split our host in two. The foot can continue down the kingsroad, while our faster forces cross the Green Fork at the Twins.” He pointed. “When Lord Tywin gets word that we’ve come south, he’ll march north to engage our main host, leaving our riders free to hurry down the west bank to Riverrun.” Robb sat back, not quite daring to smile, but pleased with himself and hungry for praise.
Catelyn frowned down at the map. “You’d put a river between the two parts of your army.”
“And between Jaime and Lord Tywin,” he said eagerly. The smile came at last. “There’s no crossing on the Green Fork above the ruby ford. Not until the Twins, all the way up here, and Lord Frey controls that bridge. He’s your father’s bannerman, isn’t that so?”
The Late Lord Frey, Cat thought. “He is,” she admitted, “but my father has never trusted him. Nor should you.”
“I won’t,” Robb promised. “What do you think?”
She was impressed despite herself. He looks like a Tully, she thought, yet he’s still his father’s son, and Ned taught him well. “Which force would you command?”
“The horse,” he answered at once. Again like his father; Ned would always take the more dangerous task himself.
“And the other?”
“I will.” Jon volunteered. Cat felt a pang of fear run through her heart. She had only just gotten back to at least a part of her family, she did not wish for them to be split up even more. “I’ll take uncle Benjen, Alfred and Osric too.” He added.
“Good.” Rhaenys said. “Then Alys, Lyanna and I will go with Robb. Both groups will have two veteran dragons.” Alysanne nodded her approval.
“These are good plans.” Ash said, smiling at their children. Both Cat and Elia also added their agreement.
Robb nodded and rolled up the map. “I’ll give the commands, and assemble an escort to take you three home to Winterfell.” He said to his mothers.
Cat looked to her two wives, though no words were spoken, they all reached an agreement quickly. “We’re not going home just yet.” Elia said. “We’re staying with you.”