ALL THE KING'S HORSES ━ asoiaf

ROBB I

Bran Stark was not good at archery. Robb wanted to think the best of his little brother, but what he witnessed, in reality, was pitiful. The Winterfell air was crisp and the sun shone, quite the perfect time for archery. A perfect time for Bran to improve. With a loud thunk, the younger boy shot an arrow into a barrel a yard away from the target. Robb sighed and crossed his arms in front of his chest. 

Jon Snow walked to his little brother's side and clasped his shoulders. 

"Go on, father's watching," Jon paused, and, after a moment said, "And your mother." The brothers looked up to Lord and Lady Stark, then Bran drew to shoot again. 

He missed again. 

Then again. Then again. Robb could not help but laugh, nor could Jon or little Rickon nearby.

"And which one of you was a marksman at ten?" The children's father's voice boomed from above, loud and commanding enough that everyone looked up to him. With an encouraging smile, he said, "Keep practicing Bran. Go on."

Jon leaned down next to his brother. "Don't think too much, Bran."

"Relax your bow arm," Robb added. A good piece of advice Rodrick won't teach.

Suddenly an arrow pierced the bulls-eye, but it was not Bran who made the mark. All the boys whipped around. There stood Arya, bow in hand, who curtseyed with a sly smile. Bran dropped his bow and arrow, then lunge at Arya, chasing her around the courtyard.

"Quick Bran, faster!" Jon laughed. Robb knew his mother would not approve, but found himself laughing as well.

As the young Starks ran they nearly knocked someone over, "Seven hells! Won't you two behave?" Robb did not have to hear speak anymore to know to turn the other way. Seven hells is right.

"Good day, Jon," the commoner called out, then turning to Robb, she muttered a mindless, "M'lord." Hilena nodded her head slightly, lips pressed together in a firm line. She left so fast, she might as well not have looked their way. Jon sighed deeply but gave Robb a mischievous smirk.

"Enough of that," Robb grumbled. He exhaled, then said to Rickon nearby, "Come on lad, let's put the arrows back." Rickon, a boy of six, lost interest immediately and toddled off to find their lady mother. 

Jon shuffled closer to his brother, "Stark, you should've seen the look on your face when—"

"When what, Snow?" he interrupted, staring dead into his brother's dark eyes.

"When Hilena came by." Jon stifled a laugh, "You looked like you'd been hit over the head."

"I meant it when I said 'enough'." Robb gave his brother a playful shove.

"If you two are done, we have to saddle our horses." The brothers glanced across the yard to find Theon Greyjoy approaching then. Robb smiled at the sight of his friend. 

The older boy stopped before them. "A Night's Watch deserter was caught in the moors." 

"So we're to attend an execution then," Jon said grimly, then with a sardonic tone, "My favorite."

Robb and the others saddled their horses, heading out to where his father carried out his justice. He had attended many executions but was not numb to them; watching a man die was always an unnerving sight to behold. So, when he learned Bran was to join them, it was a discomforting surprise. I had barely seen ten years when I first witnessed death. Six years ago.