The Bow is tense, the Arrow applied and his eyes are focused on his target. Snowflakes trickle slowly and soft from the dark gray sky and melting when they falling on his face. He takes a deep, steady breath and just as he is about to let go of the arrow, a wolf leaps past him. The deet, which was eating grass between the lying Snow, startles in panic and tries to flee.
Clint watches grimly as the wolf chases after the deer.
He lowers the Bow. „Your wolf ist chasing my prey“, says Clint and is putting the Arrow back in his hip quiver. A amuesed laugh is the answer. Steps coming near him and letting the last autumm leaves, which are under the first snow of the winter rustle. „Maybe you should have been faster“.
Clint is rolling his eyes and turns around. Robb is standing in front of him. Snowflakes are lost in his locks and don't seem to want to leave. His cheeks are red because of the cold. „You could have simply stopped Grey Wind.“, „It is hard to get a direwolf to not to do something“, explaines Robb smirking and Clint turns away. „I spend the whole mornig to find something.“, says Clint and sounds colder as he wants.
Clint makes his way through the forest, taking care not to slip on the slightly frozen leaves. “I have that feeling you're mad at me and I am not sure why”, says Robb, while he stomps after him. “I'm not”, announs Clint and takes a deep breath. His breath comes out as a little cloud and disaerperas. “Sure? Because I-” “Robb”, interrupts Clint and stands still. “I'm not mad”, Clint tries to say it relaxed, but notices that he is failing.
He hears Robb's cautious footsteps. “I know we didn't had much time togheter”. Robb closes an Hand around his wrist. Clint isn't wearing gloves, because of his shooting, which leads to the goosbumb Robbs cold leather clove is giving him. “Their was a lot to do”, says Clint. He knows that Robb has many consultations and conferences.
Winterfell is back in the Hands of the Starks, but it doesn't mean that the North is safe and the War over. Clint does understand this. Their is still a lot of work to do and that Robb as a King, has less time is an fact he accepted a long time ago. “Quiter times will come”, promise Robb and Clint turns around. A hand rest on his cheek and Clint does everything not to lean against it.
“And then you will have my whole attention.” The words are sweet, alluring and full of promises. “Will I?” asks Clint and moves his head away from the Hand. Blue eyes full of confusing looking at him. “Do you know that your high Mother, begins to plan your Wedding?”, asks Clint and turns away again.
Robb follows him.
“She is trying to destract herself”, explains Robb in an soft tone. ”Bran and Rickon are dead. Sansa and Arya are still prisoners and tousands of Miles away-”. Sadness and griving is now in his voice and Grey Wind apperace out of now where in front of them. The Wolf stares at Robb and gives a little noise from him. His lip is covered in blood. This was my deer, thinks Clint and then the grey wolf disappears in the grey landascape.
Clint remembers the Night, they learned about the death of his Brothers. Robb was wounded by the storming of the Crag, even when it wasn't that bad. Lord Gawen bent his knee to Robb and House Westerling came together with the Northmen. The Raven came in the first night.
“I heard how Lady Sybelle talked about it. The Kraken killed the Pupps”, say a Soldier from the Westerlings and finishes his beer. “You should not joke about it”, says on of the many Northmen. The atmosphere is tense. “Why should I lie?”, asks the Soldier and leans back in his chair. “I heard how she said it to the Lord and her Daughter-” does he say and crosses his arm.
“You has to be very nice to King Robb, she said”. The Soldier wiggles with his eyebrows, to underline the lewdness of the sentence. Clint almost breaks his Arrow in his hands. “At least one will feel the love of a woman tonight.” Jokes another Soldier. “We crossed an brothel on our way up here. Maybe you can finde love their, Brock”, laughs another one. Life is coming back and even when the Northmen are still a little upsets, their mood is changing too.
His throughs wandering to Robb. They wandering to Bran and Rickon, which where to young to die.
He left the tent and moved into the rainy night. He can hear Men laughing, speaking and singing. Some of them are intoxicated from the Ale and the feeling of the victory, others are just feeling the Ale. Clint walks between the tents, not sure what he is doing. In his mind he is thousands of Miles elsewhere, yet he is just a few steps away. He looks over to the castle and wished he could just walk into it.
But it would just lead to questions, if he would just walk directly into the castle and searching for Robb. He can hear a wolf howling. Does Grey wind knows what happened to them?, aks Clint himself and thinks about the other Direwolves. They knew what happened to Lady and they didn't stopped howling.
Gray wind is losing his siblings, just as fast as Robb does.
He walked trough the camp twice, when a little boy crosses his way with him. Out of breath, he stands in front of Clint. “Are you Clint?”, does the boy, which cant be older than ten. Clint gives him an confused nod and the little boy smiles. “King Robb is sending me. He wishs to see you”.
The Boy, Rollam Westerling, leads him through the castle. They walking up an Tower and stopping in front of an door. The howling from the wolf, he heard earlier seems to be grey wind, which is giving his best griving song. Rollam is knocking on the door, which is getting open a few seconds later.
Robb is wearing an bandage around his shoulder and seems tired. But now he also seems relieved. “Thank you Rollam”, says Robb to the boy, but his eyes are not leaving Clint. “Is their something else I can do? Your Grace?”, asks the boy gently and with positiv hope. “No. Not at this Moment. I will let you know, if I need something.” “Okay”, answers Rollam and tries not to sound dissapointed.
The Boy beginns to walk the stairs down and Robb pulls him in the room. Greywind sits in front of an stack and stops with his song to look, who came into the room. When he relize that it's just Clint he starts from the beginning. “I heard what happened-”, starts Clint and looks to Robb. “I am so sorry. I can't imagine how-” Robb is in his arms, clinging to him like it's an robe to save him from drowning.
Clint would say something about his wet clothes and the fact that Robb is wearing nothing, but the warm tears, which running down his neck, stopping him that. The last time, he saw Robb crying, was the day they learned about Ned Starks death. On this day, Clint couln't give him comfort. Sourrnded by Northmen and their Lords, which never leaved Robbs side. They shared a quite moment outside of the Camp.
Soldiers from Winterfell, knew about their friendship and nobody would think twice about the fact that the heritage of Winterfell would walk with an Archer. But everyone else-
Clint holds Robb, while he lets out his grieve. “They were just children”, mumbles Robb after a while.
We too, thinks Clint. They're just sixteen and yet Robb seems to have aged, at least on the outside, by years. But sometimes when their alone or Robb is togheter with his Mother, his age is clear. Ned Stark prepared his son well, but no one could have predicted that he would have to inherit the inheritance so early.
“I will kill them all”, says Robb and half breaks away from the embrace. His eyes are red and occasionally a tear finds his way out.”I will kill every single one of them”, speaks Robb with an firm promising voice. “I start with Theon. He will suffer just like Bran and Rickon and then I will free my sisters and if I have to tear down Kingslandnig, then it will be like that. I will make Joffreys head roll.”
An angry gleam appears in the blue eyes. Robb isn't an angry Person, but the war and the loss, created some corners, edges sharpened and changed. Whether for better or for worse, that remains to be seen. “Okay”, says Clint approving. A hand moves to Robb cheek and brushing away a flowing tear.
“Okay.”
It was a long way back to Winterfell and many things didn't as planed. The Kingslayer got freed by Lady Catelyn, with the hope that she will get back her girls. It causes tensions between the Lady and the Lords. Two Lannister boys got killed, Lord Karstark got beheaded for it. On the way back to Winterfell, at the Twins they learned that Theon burned down Winterfell and the Boltons took care of the surviving residents. Ramsay, the Bastard from Lord Bolton, killed Theon and it made Robb incredible furious, but also facilitated.
“He was supposed to be mine”, said Robb, when he was sitting with tears in his eyes in Brans room. Three weeks passed since their arrived on Winterfell. To see the castle destroyed, spurred one every single Northmen and gave them new strength. “We will win this war, my King”, said Lord Umber. “And Winterfell will rise again in his power.”
The reconstruction is progressing step by step and Clint knows, that it concerns Robb more than the war that raging in the South. He is tired of this war. Many men are tired of this war, but it seems that Robb wants to put a white flag out and accepting all the conditions, just to get his sisters back in an peacefully way and to stop all this madness.
But non of this will happen.
Robb won't bend his knee.
The North will not bend the knee.
And the war will go on, untile...
Well, this is something just the Gods knows.
He sits down on a falling tree. Robb sits next to him. “We can't do it forever”, starts Clint and sighs. “We knew that-” he wrinkles his forehead. “I knew it”, he adds slightly hesitantly. “I am a King.” mumbles Robb, almost to quietly and Clint must concentrate hard enough to hear the words.
“I could make an new law. I could-” “Break your promise?”, interrupts Clint and looks at Robb. “Could you go to Walder Frey and telling him that you will not marry any of his Daughters, because your fucking an Bast-” “Don't”, says Robb between clenched theeth and a subliminal angry tone.
Robb stands up and moves his hand through his hair. Snowflakes falling out of the auburn curls. A pained look is on his beautiful face and Clint has to resist any urge to go to him. “Your not an Bastard and it is not just...not for me. It is so much more.”
Robb moves his hand again through his hair, then takes off his gloves and kneels in front of Clint and takes his hand. “I always thought, that I have a choice...that I can marry because of love. I always wanted-”. Robbs stops and sighs, while his thumb gently strokes the back of Clint's hand.
“I will just marry the one, who touches my heart”, says Robb seriously and still with an soft look. “And this is you...it's always just you.” For a moment Clint allows himself to stay into this lovely bubble. He sinks into these blue eyes, which where always soft and affectionate. It breaks his heart.
This is what he tried to avoid. Somehow he hoped, that Robb will be to busy with everthing to find time for him and when war would end, that he would to busy with the wedding. This talk wasn't supposed to happen like this. “You will be a great Husband”, mumbles Clint and moves his hands out of the touch. Immediatly he lacks warmth.
“I will never love her, like I love you”, says Robb and leans his forehead against Clint's knee. “With my heart...i will be forever somewhere else. It will always be with you. Your mine and I am yours.” Clint hand moves automatically to Robb's hair. This beautiful soft hair. “Their must be a way, to escape all of it. I could make new deals. Frey woulnd't be amused, but he is just an old man.”
“Robb”, sighs Clint. Their moving in an circle. “Even when you can get out of this betrothal, do you really think that someone would accepting our relationship?” This relationship was always an secret. No touching in the public, nothing that someone could misinterpret. Kisses which would shared in the safety of the darkness. Softly spoken words meant only for their ears and only the rats in the walls know.
“Your Mother would want my head and every single person would be happy to give it to her.” “I woulnd't let this happen.” Robb raises his head. “I would never let-” “I know”, interrupts Clint soft. “It's not a crime in Dorne”, mumbles Robb. “We should have run away, when we had the chance”, smiles Clint und Robb nods. Before the war came, before King Robert came, Robb would always talk about running away.
It was a naive dream.
“This will end here, isn't it?”, asks Robb and regret lies in his eyes. Clint nods and puts an Kiss on Robb forehead. “I-” starts Robb, but gets stopped when they hear the coming of horses, which are trampleing over the frozen ground. Robb stands up and brings a little space between them. Gray wind also sneaks up between the trees.
A five men strong tropp comes into their direction. Its lead by Commandant Coulson. “Your Grace”, does he say and bows his head. “You should come back to Winterfell. A Raven came from Kingslanding, with some informations” “What kind?”, asks Robb and walks toward the group. A Soldier gets off the horse and give it to Robb. He thanks the Soldier. “I dont know. I was just told to fetch you”
„I understand“,says Robb, who is now siting on the horse. He sounds slithly nervose. It could be good news or worse. The last letter that came from the south was not the good kind. It said that Sansa is married to the gnome. Robb reached his hand out to pick up Clint, but he already sits behinde Coulson.
Their is a briefe eye contact, which seals the finality.
„Then let us finde out, what happend in the South“