A Northern Rose - Game of Thrones // Robb Stark

A Wolf's Whisper

When we heard the war was over, the village celebrated in its own way.

They knew the Northern army would be returning home, and they would have back theirs brothers, husbands, and sons.

I think we were the only ones not to be celebrating.

That evening I'd sat with Brandon and brushed his messy hair back with my hand. I kissed his cheek and he protested, but only in fun.

"Mother, now that the war is over, can you take me to see Winterfell?" He grinned at me with a tooth missing, and I couldn't not say yes.

"Of course!" I didn't know if it were true, or if we'd even have any place at Winterfell now, but a visit wouldn't hurt. We could have even gone to live back at Highgarden now, if mother was still alive. I wasn't even sure of that.

"You can have a proper sword then, and eat all the cakes you want." His face practically lit up. He still never stopped smiling.

"Can I have my own horse too? You can teach me, can't you?" His excitement filled the room and the memories came flooding back to me.

"Only if you get to sleep." I pulled him into me for a hug, but he was bubbling with glee and raced off up the stairs before I could complain. Was it wrong to promise him things he might not ever have?

Moving to place more logs on the fire, I prodded at the crimson embers hopelessly, for some reason lost in my own thought.

I wondered about Gilly and Jonquil and if they were still alive, about Catelyn, Sansa, Arya, Bran and Rickon. But mostly, I wondered about Robb. When he had fallen, did he think about Brandon or me? Or perhaps there was someone else.

I still remembered that last moment we shared back at Winterfell.

Hearing a knock at the door, and carelessly I stood, wiping the dirt off onto my plain dress.

I couldn't seem to shake the thoughts of my past life; my expression stayed blank.

Opening the thin wooden door by the iron handle, I assumed at first it would be one of the neighbours or even Sir Rodrik if we were lucky, but as my eyes adjusted I stared at the sight before me.

I first saw the leather and fur armour, stained with what looked like blood and dirt that had been washed off by the rain. A long cloak fell all the way to the floor, with wolf pelt lining the shoulders. His curly brown hair still looked the same, and his smile hadn't changed.

"Robb?"

Our hands briefly touched and our fingers entwined together instantly; his eyes not leaving mine for even a second. Neither of us said anything, for it was almost an unbelievable moment. After all these years apart, we were finally together again.

His face looked so familiar to me but yet so unknown, taken by time. He looked much older and more mature than the last time I'd seen him. I expect I did too. I could feel him so close to me; to be in his arms again was something I never imagined would happen.

Looking up at him, I did something I hadn't done properly in a long time – I smiled.

He lent down and kissed me then; filling my soul with so much warmth I could have stayed like it for eternity.

"Father?" Came a voice from behind me, and our moment ended as quickly as it had begun.

Brandon stood at the bottom of the stairs, his eyes wide but tired with sleep. It had been almost six years since he'd seen his father, not since he was a young babe had he laid eyes upon him. But today, he recognised him.

Robb bought me to his side, wrapping his arm around my waist. We still fitted together, he hadn't forgotten. I saw my husband's gaze towards his son, identical to that of when he first came into the world.

Robb was a grown man, it wasn't likely he would breakdown and cry; but there had never been a closer moment than now.

"Brandon." He said with a smile, almost in relief.

Brandon charged towards him, arms flung out as wide as they possibly could before he was enveloped within his father's arms. Six years since he'd held his son, six years he'd been away, six years and I thought it would be forever. Robb held his son close to him, as if his intent was to never let him go again. He then placed his feet gently back on the ground before kneeling in front of him, their smiles almost identical.

"I'm so glad you're back." He said, not even asking where his father had been, for in this moment, it didn't matter.

"So am I." Robb replied, pulling his son towards him once more and kissing his head. Brandon fidgeted happily, not wanting to be kissed but ecstatic that his father had returned despite all the doubt.

"Is that your sword?" He said eagerly. He'd never had a proper father figure in his life, apart from the stories I had told him.

Reaching for his blade, Robb pushed his heavy fur cloak out of the way before gently unsheathing the beautiful steel weapon.

"Grey wind," he said the swords name.

Holding the sword out before him, he rested the hilt on one hand and steel on another.

Brandon didn't touch, only looked. His eyes tracing the patterns carved into the stunning silver metal. I hadn't noticed at first, but suddenly I remembered something from all those years ago.

There it was, wrapped carefully around the hilt of the blade, my engraved silver wolf necklace.

"To keep you safe." I said, unfastening the chain from around my neck and handing him the beautiful necklace he had given me the day we met. His reluctance to take it was obvious, but to be sure he did I gently lowered it into the palm of his hand; closing his fingers around it. He didn't want to go; he wanted to stay here with me and his son, his new born son. Only time would tell if he would return to me. "Make sure to bring it back." I spoke softly, brushing my hand against the scratched metal of his armour. I didn't want him to leave. It seemed as if the words were caught in his throat, not ever expecting that this would happen to us. But I waited for him, watching him try to figure out what to say next, his eyes deep in thought. He looked down at the necklace and brushed it with his thumb before closing his grip around it. "I promise. I'll bring it back." He said, trying to smile through all the pain that this was causing him. He leant forward to kiss me then, bringing up his free hand and brushing the side of my face; our foreheads resting upon one another. "Lord Stark." A guard's voices sounded from outside, inaudibly demanding my husband to leave everything he'd ever known and walk into the uncertain. Ignoring the voice, he lowered his head and kissed me for a sweet, long period of time, before giving me one last faint smile and departing.

It felt like a foreign thing to me, something forgotten and remembered. Something lost and found; just like Robb himself.

I watched him carefully as he unwrapped the silver chain, no less beautiful as it was when he first gave it to me. The room was silent apart from the crackles of the bewildered fire, regaining life once more from the wood bestowed upon it.

Robb carefully balanced his sword upon the side of the small wooden table, I watched his every move.

He turned to me then, but didn't look me in the eyes like I so desperately wanted him to.

He slowly approached me, unclasping the necklace before placing it around my neck and fastening it; gently lifting my hair free from the chain.

His eyes did meet mine then, and his smile beamed completely genuine like it once had. His gloved hand stroked the side of my face, pushing my hair back as he used to do.

"I told you I'd bring it back."

And he did.