𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐬 || 𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐁 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐊

ғᴏᴜʀ

Literally every single one of the people in front of him looked confused, but Robb did not notice.

And how could he? There stood his father, a man he had believed dead, killed by the Lannisters, hale and healthy as he had been when Robb had last seen him all those months ago.

And now Robb had been killed too - by Roose Bolton, yes, but that whole affair had been organized by the Lannisters as well. If Robb could find himself here in this strange world after his death, why could the same not be true for his father?

It seemed he had already found some trustworthy companions, too. Well, all the better. Maybe they even knew who and where this Olórin that the Valar had told him to find was.

However, the best thing of all was that Robb was alone no longer. He had Grey Wind, true, yet there was no one with whom he could talk about his homeworld, no one to understand what it was like to die and come back again.

But all of Robb's hopes were shattered when the man who looked like his father showed no sign of recognition. On the contrary - he drew his eyebrows together in bemusement.

"My name is Boromir of Gondor," the man said, confused but not unkind. "I have no sons."

Robb's heart felt like it had just been stabbed again, but he did not let it show. Instead, he schooled his expression into a coldly polite one that hid all traces of emotion. It was the one he had used most often as the Lord of Winterfell and then later as King in the North.

"I understand," Robb said, inclining his head. "I apologise for the misunderstanding. You look a great deal like my father, my lord."

He did not know whether the man actually was a lord. He certainly had the bearing of one, though, and a little courtesy had never hurt anyone.

"It is no matter," the man named Boromir replied with a smile. "What is his name? I certainly would like to meet a man who looks so much like me that his very son cannot see the difference. Maybe I would even recognize the name."

Robb forced a tight-lipped smile as well. "I doubt it, my lord. He was not from around here."

"Was?"

"Aye, he died some moons ago," Robb said with clenched teeth. It was not his favourite topic to be talking about. His own fault for bringing it up, though, wasn't it? "I suppose that would make it a bit harder for you to meet him, my lord," he continued in an attempt to lighten up the situation.

Boromir looked a bit stunned, which was no surprise. "You have my condolences, I did not mean to-"

Robb waved him off, eager to be done with all this talk about his father. "I thank you, but you could not have known and I was the one to start with the topic in the first place. I've truly made the worst first impression. Perhaps I should apologize instead."

"So who are you?" one of the children interrupted, asking the question every one of the strangers probably had on their minds, but had not dared to ask yet.

Although the old man threw a disgruntled look at the child, Robb did not take offense.

"My name is Robb Stark."

The words 'the King in the North' and 'Lord of Winterfell' yearned to follow, but Robb knew they would not hold any meaning to this company and he had not yet become so vain as to use them regardless. Robb had told them his name and his name would have to suffice.

"Well, Robb Stark, as an apology for troubling you so, we must invite you to supper," another one of the children declared.

Robb carefully scanned the faces of each of the men, but none looked too put out with the idea. Still...