Bringing the Dawn

XXVIII.

Robb Stark

Winterfell, 300AC

It was a horrible thought, the one where he would soon be leaving Winterfell. He'd travelled to other places in the North a few times with his father when he was little, but this time it was decidedly different because this time, he might not be coming back to these walls. May not be able to climb the trees, walk through the ancient corridors, swim in the hot springs below the castle. Things he had taken for granted but now that he was preparing to leave and with a decently sized army at his back to both free his father and to support his brother in his claim for the throne. It had now been more than a month since his mother had come back along with her uncle, and it seemed the man didn't want to leave yet.

Robb had asked him about this, trying to get to know the man he had heard people speak highly of on numerous occasions. Hardly anyone had anything bad to say about the Blackfish. Whether that be his prowess, mannerisms, or loyalty, all had gleaming results no matter who he asked. At first, he had assumed it to simply be a bias, but he was beginning to realise now that he had gotten to know him a little better that this was not the case. The Knight had sat down with him and explained in detail why he had yet to leave Winterfell to return to the Vale. His reasoning lying heavily with his House's words.

Family. Duty. Honour.

His mother had told him the reasoning her House chose to fight for the rebels, her confirming Jaeron had figured this out too when she had first went to Greywater Watch to speak to him for the first time since he had left the walls. Gods, had that been more than a year ago already? It felt like only a few days had passed with the amount that had been happening within. Ser Brynden explaining that whilst he was Lysa's sworn sword, his words bound him to protect family. And with much of his family now heading into war, this vow took precedence over the other.

He blinked as these words disappeared like the way a snowflake melts once it came into contact with bare skin. His childhood room almost stripped with how much he had packed up. Numerous weapons, a few changes of clothes, some miscellaneous items that would remind him of home. Was this how Jon had felt when he left so long ago? There was a difference between them though. If Rhaegon and Lyrax had not hatched that fateful day, there was a chance he never would've left in the first place. But they had, and they knew they would not be able to keep dragons hidden in Winterfell with the amount of visitors who come into the halls and explore the ancient keep that had stood for eight thousand years if the stories were true.

When would be the next time he would sleep in a featherbed again? When would he next see Bran and Rickon again? He didn't want to leave them behind, but it was drummed in to them from a young age that there must always be a Stark in Winterfell. With Sansa and Arya gods know where, his father in a black cell, and him being at the head of an army meant there was no choice in the matter. At least Bran was happy now. When his mother handed him the parchment with the drawings over to him, he had been sceptical to say the least. Yet they had given it to Mikken and to the Stablemaster who worked together and followed the design as best they could. With a couple of tweaks, Bran's legs were secured to his pony and ensured he couldn't fall off and now trainers were working on getting a yearling to have it adapt solely to arm movements and voice.

To see the way his eyes lit up when Hodor had carried him out to see it, and the loud laugh that left him when he snapped the reins to gallop, every worry had disappeared from him. Even his mother hadn't reprimanded him for being so reckless as to gallop in circles in Winterfell's courtyard. But a few words echoed around when he had done so, quiet shushes of Lyanna doing the same. He'd heard from his father she was jokingly referred to as a centaur because she apparently seemed to have been born atop a horse, but it was strange. No one ever dared to speak Lyanna's name when his father was here, his sisters death clearly still affecting him badly.