Pov Robb Stark - Tumblr Posts
Chapter 29: Family, Duty, Honor
Stone Hedge reminded Robb of home; a sprawling castle made of grey stone. It wasn’t as big as Winterfell, but it was certainly larger than the canvas pavilion he’d grown accustomed to. The thick, stone walls and the privacy they afforded were a comfort. Too often, Robb had felt as though the wind carried his every word throughout the camp. It was part of the reason he’d waited until then to have this conversation.
Robb sat across from Jon. The room used to hold the war councils seemed as though it hadn’t been used in years. A fine dust covered the higher surfaces, and old tapestries lay folded in a corner. Tall windows let in the late afternoon sun, illuminating the dust in the air.
“Alyn,” Jon shouted. A scrawny boy stumbled into the room, wide eyed and tripping over his own feet.
“Yes, Your Grace?” Alyn Blackwood was no older than Bran, long-limbed and scrawny, with a mop of black hair. When Robb announced Jon as his hand and proclaimed him a Prince of Winterfell, Lord Blackwood had been the first to offer one of his sons as a squire.
Jon sighed. “Go find Theon and tell him Robb wishes to speak with him.” Alyn began to sprint off when Jon called after him. “And Alyn, just Jon, is fine.”
Alyn ran off with a hurried, “yes, your grace.” Jon scowled at Robb, who grinned at him in amusement. “You could have named me Hand without naming me a Prince,” he quipped.
“You’re my brother, which makes you a Prince,” he insisted. Robb didn’t mention that by rights, he was a King. “And don’t pretend you don’t like being called a Prince. Prince Jon of Winterfell,” Robb japed.
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CHAPTER 32: Mother’s Mercy
He nodded to Ethan Forrester, who stopped at the entrance to the godswood. Robb continued on with Grey Wind following after him. Ethan hardly gave a second glance to Grey Wind, something most of the other men who guarded Robb did. He’d grown used to the enormous beast by now, Robb supposed.
Grey Wind bounded off further into the godswood of Raventree Hall, but Robb continued on his straightforward path. The moon had only just risen, and the godswood was still. He could breathe easier here, away from all the people. I never get a moment alone. There was always some lord requesting an audience, or another guard following after him.
He didn’t mind his guards, and he knew they gave Alysanne peace of mind. A fair compromise, she’d said, in exchange for her agreeing to increase her own. Not quite a Kingsguard, but close enough. Robb wasn’t a southron king, and he wouldn’t bind men to him in such a way. And besides, with Alysanne gone, the extra company wasn’t unwelcome. Dacey Mormont was always in good humour and always willing to jape at the expense of other lords. Torrhen Karstark was far less boorish than his elder brother Harrion, even if he was more Bran’s friend than Robb’s. And Ethan Forrester, though soft-spoken, was affable and fast becoming a friend as well.
Though Robb had already visited the heart tree at Raventree Hall several times, he still found himself disappointed. He’d found himself disappointed in this godswood from the start, as awful as he felt for feeling that way. It hadn’t been what he expected at all, when he heard there was a true godswood so far south.
When Robb pictured a godswood, he pictured the godswood from home. A dense canopy of trees; ironwood and oak, sentinels and pines, a thick layer of dead leaves and moss on the forest floor. He pictured the small pools warmed by the hot springs that he and his siblings used to swim in, and the black pool at the base of Winterfell’s heart tree; an ancient tree, towering with a weeping face and leaves of blood. There were hardly any other trees aside from the heart tree in this godswood. Not as many as in Winterfell, anyway. The heart tree itself was long dead, with only its bone-white bark remaining. Poisoned by the Bracken’s, to hear Lord Blackwood tell it. It was a colossal beast, far larger than the heart tree in Winterfell. Yet it still paled compared to the tree he’d stood before with Alysanne.
Thinking of the godswood from home always reminded him of Alysanne and the night they married. He could still see the candles that lit the path to the heart tree, and her soft smile and flushed cheeks as she made her way to him. The godswood at Raventree Hall brought to mind none of those things.
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