章 1200: 24 - |
Chapter 24: Silence Before the Snow Storm Pt. 1 -Robb IV; Jon XXIII; Tryion VSummary:
As tempers in Westeros start simmering, the North has more to deal with than Robb may be able to handle. He has many voices to consider and not all of them wish to help.
Notes:
Sooooo... I have no excuses. I'll just say that I've been really burnt out on writing on writing and life in general. I only kept updating other fics because they're commissions and I kind of have to :-P
Honestly, the only reason this one is getting put up is that a friend convinced me to cut the chapter in half. Part of me feels bad because I promised people that this would be a massive 20k chapter to make up for how long I'd been gone but just couldn't do it. Thank you all for being understanding.
The next chapter will be up soon-ish though and will also probably be on the shorter side -still 10k+ though.
(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)
Chapter Text
Timeline
283 AC/4E 187: Robb Stark is born; (two months later) "Jon Snow" is born.286 AC/4E 190: Sansa Stark is born; RS-3, "JS"-3.289 AC/4E 193: Arya Stark is born; Theon Greyjoy (10) arrives at Winterfell; RS-6, "JS"-6, SS-3.290 AC/4E 194: Bran Stark is born; TG-11, RS-7, "JS"-7, SS-4, AS-1.295 AC/4E 199: Rickon Stark is born; TG-16, RS-12, "JS"-12, SS-9, AS-6, BS-5.296 AC/4E 200: Direwolves are found; TG-17, RS-13, "JS"-13, SS-10, AS-7, BS-6, RS-1.297 AC/4E 201: Robb Stark turns 14; (two months later) "Jon Snow" turns 14; (one month later) "Jon Snow" runs away from Winterfell/appears in Skyrim; TG-18, SS-11, AS-8, BS-7, RS-2.299 AC/4E 203: Jon Whitewolf sends a letter to Winterfell; TG-19, RS-16, JW-16, SS-13, AS-10, BS-9, RS-4.300 AC/4E 204: Lord Eddard Stark asks Jon to return to Winterfell; TG-20, RS-17, JW-17, SS-14, AS-11, BS-10, RS-5.302 AC/4E 206: Jon Whitewolf receives Arya's letter: TG-22, RS-18, JW-18, SS-16, AS-13, BS-12, RS-7.(Two-and-a-half months later) Jon Whitewolf arrives at Winterfell: TG-22, RS-18, JW-18, SS-16, AS-13, BS-12, RS-7.(Four days later) Robb Stark turns 19: TG-22, RS-19, JW-18, SS-16, AS-13, BS-12, RS-7.(Two weeks later) Jon Whitewolf (18) leaves for KL with Enzo, Ned Stark, Sansa Stark, Arya Stark, and the royal party.(Two weeks later) Jon Whitewolf (18), the Starks, and the royal party are attacked while at the Triton.(Two weeks later) Jon Whitewolf (18), the Starks, and the royal party arrive at King's Landing. (Three days later) the Tourney of the Hand begins.(Five days later) Serena arrives at the Red Keep.(Ten days later) King Robert Dies(Six days later) Cersei Lannister's attempted coup results in the deaths of Boros Blount, Preston Greenfield, Gregor Clegane, Jon Arryn, Selyse Baratheon, Joffrey & Tommen Baratheon, Eden & Sierra, Sallem & Morie, and Tywin Lannister. Jon Whitewolf, Enzo Vlast, Serana & Valerica Volkihar, the Starks, the Tyrells, Renly Baratheon, Myrcella Baratheon, and related members escape aboard the Bell Singer.(Two days later) Jon Whitewolf hatches three dragons on the Bell Singer.
Robb IV
Perhaps appropriately, the day he, Wylis Mandery, Smalljon Umber, Torrhen, and Eddard Karstark returned to Winterfell was gray and dreary as the grave. Sheets of heavy, wet snowflakes fell like frosty blankets over the land, soaking through even the thickest of fur cloaks and leaving the small party to the mercy of the North's signature biting cold. The ride back to the castle from Harbor had been similarly grim and morose, no one having much to say as the memories of the slaughtered villagers filled their minds and thoughts. The slaughter may have been avenged but that did not bring the victim back to life and so it could only serve as a hollow comfort to the men.
'The dead are dead; revenge is for the living,' Robb thought, icy water droplets running down his scalp and stubbly cheek.
Sleep hadn't visited the young Heir of Winterfell recently, there was just too much weighing on his mind and heart and shoulders. Slumping forward slightly, trusting his horse to lead him through the front gates, Robb closed his eyes, lids heavy -heavy as Theon's 'suicide note' in his pocket. His friend had written it on a scrap of parchment before sailing away into the silent, black night, ensuring his handwriting and signature would match up should anyone care to check.
***
"If this charade is to work then we need to make it as believable as possible," Theon said, sprinkling some water droplets onto the drying ink to give the impression of teardrops.
***
Despite not thinking much of Theon in general, Wylis, Smalljon, Torrhen, and Eddard had acted respectively somber when learning of the Greyjoy heir's 'death.' They, along with the rest of the Manderly family, had offered their condolences to Robb for his loss, stating that they knew how close the two were. Perhaps it was just a way to get on his good side, but Robb appreciated it all the same. His grief for Theon was incredibly real, after all, because, though the other young man was still alive, he was also still gone!
Gone... just like Jon had been and would be again soon. But, at least, Robb knew where Jon was, even if he had never been there and knew nothing of his brother's adopted land. With Theon... Robb had no idea of where he was. Even Theon's supposed plan was vague and directionless at best. Not to mention, by Theon's own admission, he'd probably die attempting to save his mother and sister.
So, yes, as far as Robb was considered, he had lost Theon for good.
"Robb!"
At the sound of Rickon's voice, Robb's blue eyes shot open and, despite everything, he smiled as his youngest brother rushed towards him, Shaggydog bounding along beside him. Robb slid from his saddle, his feet hitting the ground just in time to catch Rickon in his arms. He swung the boy around before hugging him close, exciting giggles from the littlest wolf. As the boy nuzzled into Robb's neck, he pressed his nose into Rickon's messy hair; by their side, Greywind, who'd been slower and quieter than usual, and Shaggydoy were wrestling and nipping at one another.
'It's good to be home.'
"Robb!"
This time it was his mother calling for him.
Reluctantly, he pulled away from Rickon, setting the boy on the ground, and faced his mother. The two hadn't parted on the best of terms; Robb had, somewhat subconsciously, blamed the woman for driving Jon away and hadn't even bothered to give her a proper farewell when he left with the others to investigate the attack on the fishing village. It didn't help matters that his mother had been acting... off in the weeks before he departed, keeping to her own quarters and neglecting her duties as the Lady of Winterfell. In fact, now that Robb thought about it, the last time they'd truly spoken was when she stormed away after he'd nonchalantly mentioned he wished the wedding ceremony had taken place before Father, Jon, and the others had ridden South so his brother could attend.
'She looks... almost normal again.'
For as long as Robb could remember, his mother had taken pride in the way she presented herself. Oh, Catelyn Tully Stark had no use for the ostentatious frivolity that Queen Cersei favored, but she also enforced the importance of neat hair and tidy clothes on the family. So it had seemed almost vulgar when she spent nearly two weeks with messy hair and wearing the same nightgown!
Now, though, the woman was dressed in an unusually plain dark blue day gown and had pulled her hair into a simple bun. She still looked less polished than Robb was used to seeing, but still far more put together than she had been when he left.
"Mother," he greeted, holding his arms out for the expected embrace.
But it never came. Instead, she skidded to a stop, eyes wide and frantic as she dragged his middle brother along. "Bran was nearly killed!"
"WHAT?" Robb shouted, looking to Bran as if to reassure himself that the boy was really there. Behind him, his small party was similarly shocked. "What happened? Who-"
"We don't know his name," Howland Reed declared, stepping forward. "And, seeing as he's dead now, I doubt our would-be killer will be telling us."
"So no one of our people then?"
Gods, Robb hoped not. He had enough burdens on his shoulders to worry about without the concern that a chambermaid might try to slit his throat during the night.
Hallis Mollen, the man that Father had appointed to be Head of the Guards while Jory Cassel was with them down South, spoke up. "No, Lord Robb. I investigated the matter thoroughly and can say with complete certainty that the man wasn't a servant or stablehand. However, several people have reported having seen the man wandering around the castle grounds recently and sleeping in the stables."
Mollen hung his head and continued, "I- I failed you and your father, Lord Robb. Lord Stark put you all under my protection and I failed. I let this scum burn the library and young Lord Bran almost died! If not for Lord Howland we'd have lost him and who knows how many others could have-"
"What's done is done, Hallis," Robb cut him off. "Many desperate people seek shelter inside Winterfell's walls; no one would have thought to keep track of them. No one died, let's just be thankful for that and focus on trying to learn more about this terrible attack."
"Much thanks, my Lord," the guard nodded. "We were able to find the catspaw's belongings in the stables. There wasn't much, just some dirty clothing and food rations. But there were ninety silver stags, far more than a vagrant like him should have."
"A paid crime then," Wylis Manderly growled.
Robb agreed, but that just opened the door to more questions. "But what was that crime, exactly? Just to burn down the library and cause chaos? Or was he targeting someone in particular?"
"Would everyone calm down?" Bran huffed, pulling his arm from Mother's vice-like grip. "I'm fine! Lord Howland saved me! And there is more important stuff to talk about!"
"You nearly dying is plenty important, Bran," Robb said, kneeling down to take his brother's shoulders and looking him over. The boy had an ugly, fading bruise on the side of his face and well as several many nearly-healed scraps.
There was a serious look in his eyes too, despite his smile, one that hadn't been there before. Staring into the blue-gray depths of his brother's eyes, Robb felt he was staring down into the bottom of an endless well. And that something was staring back at him too.
He shivered but asked, "Are you sure you're alright?"
"I'm fine," he repeated, rolling his eyes. But then Bran's face scrunched up in confusion and he looked around at the group, "Where is Theon?"
At his words, Rickon perked up, joining his brother in looking around. By his side, Shaggydog became agitated, growling lowly as the fur on his body rose. Summer nuzzled his littermate's ear, trying to calm him, but was met with a sharp nip.
Something deep inside Robb's stomach twisted painfully and he swallowed back a wave of grief. Lying to the other men in his party had been one thing -they didn't care for or about Theon- but lying to Rickon and Bran, who'd grown up only knowing Theon as an older brother? That would be hard to stomach.
Robb opened his mouth to say something but words failed him and he fell silent.
Behind him, Smalljon Umber shifted uncomfortably. "It's a true tragedy. For something like that to happen to someone so young."
It was a lie. Smalljon cared very little about Theon's 'death', but Robb appreciated the man's attempt at kindness nonetheless. It spared him from having to speak for at least a little while longer.
"What happened?" Mother asked.
It didn't escape Robb's notice his mother sounded more confused than concerned.
Clenching his jaw, the Heir of Winterfell tried to focus on the worry welling up in his two brothers' eyes. "There- there was an incident... and Theon is no long- no longer with us."
Rickon let out a high-pitched keen and Bran began tearing up.
"An-and his bones?" Bran asked, voice choked and strangled.
"...Theon was lost to the sea," Robb said eventually. It was true enough.
"No!" Rickon shrieked, throwing himself to the ground. "No! No! No! No! That's a lie! He's not dead! He's not! You're lying!"
Mother was by his side in an instant, trying to comfort her distraught youngest son. Her attempts were met with scratches and biting as Rickon fought away from her, throwing himself at Shaggydog and screaming into the agitated direwolf's fur. While that was going on, Bran all but collapsed against Robb, arms wrapped tight around his stomach as the boy tried not to cry.
It was an uncomfortable sight for everyone to witness and it wasn't long before Robb's party made themselves scarce, helping the attending stablehands lead the horses away. The guards and servants scattered too. Never one to enjoy making a scene, Mother soon huffed and looked around at the dwindling crowd. After a moment, she turned back to Robb. "You should rest. We'll speak more about him later. Privately."
Wiping the soap suds from his face with a warm, damp towel, Robb rolled his tight neck and winced at the loud series of 'pops!' his tense muscles let out as they loosened. After a warm, filling meal, a long soak in the Winterfell hot springs, and a shave, Robb was feeling... well, not good, but significantly more alive than he had been that morning. Maester Luwin had even promised to bring Robb up something to help him to sleep, so he was even hoping for a good night's rest.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
'That must be Maester Luwin now.'
Draping the towel over his neck, Robb swung the door to his bedroom. "Thank you, Maester Lu- OOoooh! Alys!"
"Hello, Lord Robb. Sorry to disturb you."
His soon-to-be-wife gave him a pleasant smile, kindly ignoring Robb's shirtlessness. Which was nice because Robb certainly couldn't. This was different from a whore seeing him, no one's dignity was at risk there. But, even though they were to be married, people would talk if they saw Robb and Alys conversing like this. He had no desire to see Alys shamed for something so simple.
Still, it would probably be nice to have a normal, face-to-face conversation with the woman he was to wed.
"No, no, disturbance at all," he said, awkwardly grabbing for his dressing gown. "What can I help you with?"
"Oh, nothing," Alys said, shaking her head. Robb noticed that she'd left her brown hair down today, instead of putting it in a braid as usual. It looked nice. He wondered if he should say something about it. Theon always said that women liked it when you took notice of their appearance. "I just want to thank you for bringing my brothers home safely. I know that Eddard and Torrhen are a handful but they mean the world to me, so thank you."
"No need. To tell you the truth, they were an invaluable aid and it was nice to get to know them on a personal level," Robb replied. And that was true, despite the horrors of the past weeks, he'd enjoyed spending time with Eddard and Torrhen. Even if most of their conversation ended with the brothers threatening Robb with a comical variety of fates if he treated their sister poorly.
Not that he ever would, of course. Robb may not love Alys, but he didn't want to hurt her. Nor would he do something as dishonorable as being a purposely poor husband.
Alys' smile grew a little bigger, "Well, we are to be kin soon. It is good that we all become more familiar with one another."
Robb nodded, finding himself smiling as well. "Yes, it is. Perhaps you and your brothers should join my family and me for breakfast tomorrow morning?"
"That would be lovely."
'Good, this is going well,' the auburn-haired young man thought to him.
Again, this was so different from charming a whore. They were easy to talk to, relaxed, and unconcerned about what was being said because, well, they were getting paid for their time. Robb never had to worry about saying the right thing, or of messing things up before they even began. If he was going to spend his life with Alys Karstark, Robb wanted them to get along.
So when a thought crossed his mind, he shifted uncomfortably. "How... how do you feel about it? The marriage, I mean. I know you were betrothed to Daryn Hornwood, are you upset that..."
"Daryn is a good man. We are fond of each other and it would have been a comfortable union," the young woman said. "But I do not love him, never did. Perhaps I could have, in time. I suppose it was simply not to be. That became clear as the years passed without a ceremony, so I tried not to think too much of it."
That wasn't a real answer, Robb noticed, but it wasn't exactly a rebuff either.
"Can I ask why your father denied the union? The Hornwoods are a good family."
Alys giggled, a light, sweet sound that didn't match her somber appearance but was pleasing to the ears. "To tell you the truth, I think it is because my father doesn't want to let me go. After my mother's death, I was the only woman in the household and I guess he didn't want to lose that."
Robb could understand not wanting to let a family member go. Part of him had wanted to forbid Jon from leaving again. It wouldn't have been fair and it wouldn't have been right, but Robb felt the urge all the same. He didn't want to lose his brother again.
"I can understand that. It is hard to lose the people you love."
Alys' face turned solemn and she nodded, reaching out to give his arm a reassuring touch. "I heard about Theon Greyjoy; I know you two grew up together, such a loss cannot be easy."
There was a warm tone of sympathy in her voice and, though Robb --much like with his travel party- wasn't sure how much was real, he appreciated it, especially since she made no attempts to claim falsities about Theon's character and how much he'd be missed.
He patted Alys' hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.
"Thank you," he said honestly around a lump that was forming in his throat. "I know Theon and his family aren't thought of highly in the North, but he was my brother in all but name and I will miss him."
Theon had once told him that the best lies were mostly the truth.
'I doubt he ever expected me to use that advice in this way,' Robb thought before clearing his throat and addressing Alys once more. "If you'll excuse me, Lady Alys, travel has left me drained; I should be getting to sleep. There is much to be addressed tomorrow."
"Oh, yes," Alys said, pulling back from the doorway. The comfortable, familiar air between dissipated, though not in a cold way, and returned to a respectful, socially appropriate distance. "It was incredibly inconsiderate of me to keep you up chatting, please excuse the inconvenience."
"No inconvenience at all, I just need some rest," Robb insisted. "And I will be seeing you tomorrow for the morning meal, correct?"
"I wouldn't miss it for the world," his future wife smiled. Giving a final curtsy of farewell, she turned to glide the hallway without another word.
"Goodnight," he called after her.
At his words, Alys paused to give him a small wave and another smile. "Goodnight, Lord Robb."
Later, when he was climbing in bed, Robb found that he still had a slight smile on his face and, as he closed his eyes, he thought of how nice the contrast of Alys' dark hair looked against her pale, elegant neck.
"I think... I think I could be happy with her," he whispered into the darkness, half a thought and half a prayer.
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