Chapter 3: Ride to The North

Roland

Roland inhaled the cool air as he rode down the Kingsroad with the Royal Procession. The journey from Kings Landing to Winterfell seemed to take a lifetime. The members of the royal procession and the large royal carriage that housed his mother, Joffrey and his younger siblings didn't help matters. It seemed that the further up north they went the procession got larger and larger. So the the journey got slower and slower. He had half a mind to just gallop ahead and leave them all behind.

However, upon entering the North, Roland didn't mind it nearly as much. The North was unlike any of the other regions Roland had visited. It had a different sort of beauty to it. It vast open spaces, as to be expected and it gave a sense of freedom and privacy. The best part was the air, it was cool, fresh unlike the stench of the capitol. Roland felt content to ride slower so that he could take all of this in.

Beside him, Roland could hear his father curse at the slow pace they were going at. Roland chuckled, he and Robert have always had a close relationship, sharing many of the same interests and loves. Though Roland had the physical build common among Baratheons but he possessed a keen mind of a Lannister. More often than naught he would play mind games with his uncle Tyrion and win a few times.

"How much longer before we reach Winterfell father?" Roland asked.

Robert sighed, "I don't know my boy the vast landscape all looks the same to me. For all I know we're going in circles".

Roland smiled, "we would be there by now if didn't have all this dead weight behind us."

His father laughed, "it's been too long since I've seen Ned. Gods nine long years, I wonder if he's changed much."

"Well, he will certainly be surprised by your changes". Roland replied nodding to his father's belly.

Robert looked down at his own belly and roared with laughter. "What do you say we gallop on ahead and leave all these shits behind," Robert suggested.

"There is nothing I wish more", said Roland as a huge grin spread across his face

Robert turned to his kingsgaurd, "Ser Barristan, Ser Aerys, we will be riding ahead of the procession

"Of course you grace", said Ser Barristan bowing slightly.

With that, father, son, and the two kingsgaurd kicked their spurs and galloped off riding as hard as their horses could manage. Fealing the cool wind sweep across his face was a refreshing feeling. Roland never felt so free than when he was riding then he could be alone with his thoughts.

They continued to gallop for a short while before Robert Baratheon suddenly came to a halt and looked ahead. Roland looked in the direction his father was and gasped.

"There it is Roland, that is Winterfell". Roland sucked in a gulp of air. He had seen many castles in his life. But Winterfell was something else entirely. Ancient, large, beautiful and strong all in one. It dwarfed the Red Keep, he wasn't even inside the castle and already Roland preferred it to the Red Keep any day.

It took a while for the Royal procession to catch up to the two Baratheons. Finally Robert turned to his kingsgaurd "Ser Barristan fetch Joffrey from the carriage, he shall ride beside Roland at the head of the column. It's time my eldest son and heir acted like a true prince".

"Yes you grace" said the knight before turning to the Royal Carriage

"That boy is too soft for his own good", Robert muttered. "Always beside his mother".

Roland couldn't help but agree, Joffrey did spend more time with his mother than he should. But then again Roland spend a great amount of time with his father so he guessed it merely balanced out.

Joffrey arrived shortly after, he had a frown on his face and Roland was sure his teeth were clenched. Obviously he wasn't happy about riding in the cold. Bane gave out a snort and shook his head, Roland smiled, his horse seemed to think the same thing.

Finally they reached Winterfell, As they neared the gate, Roland spotted a figure sitting on a cart. Two things he noticed, one she wore a helmet much too big for her, and two she wore garments too rich to be lowborn. the two looked at each other for a moment before Roland galloped onward through the gates.

The brothers passed through the gates and there standing before them was the entire Stark family waiting to greet them. Roland had repeated their names over and over in his head so now he knew them by heart.

Lord Eddard Stark had a serious face with dark hair and grey eyes as soft as a cloud. Ned, in many ways reminded Roland of Uncle Stannis. Stern, serious and have a great sense of honor and justice.

To his left was his wife Lady Catelyn Stark. With red hair and blue eyes she was a beauty he thought. Her dress was elegant, yet at the same time simple. It was a direct contrast to the way his own mother who preferred the finest material.

To Ned's right was his eldest son Robb. He had his mother's hair and eyes but his father's face. He is 2 years older had a muscular build. Despite this Roland was just as tall as Robb. Roland gave Robb a respectful nod and Robb replied in kind.

He then turned his attention to the youngest Stark boys. Like their elder brother, Bran and Rickon had the looks of their mother.

Roland turned to the eldest Stark daughter and gave a sharp intake of breath. There stood the most beautiful person he had ever seen. Sansa Stark was a beauty with no equal. Flaming locks of auburn hair and sapphire blue eyes and unblemished ivory skin. He was hooked now fortunately Roland was able to compose himself not wanting to look like a fool.

Sansa looked in his direction and a smile came to her face. Roland knew enough to know that she was looking at his brother 'The Crown Prince' and not him. But he didn't begrudge her that, any girl would do the same in her position.

Next to Sansa stood the Arya, the youngest daughter. This time Roland did a double take. He recognized those eyes and that gown. She was the one he had seen on the carriage earlier. Unlike the others stark children, who looked like their mother, Arya Stark got her looks from her father Ned Stark.

As Roland looked around, someone else caught his eye. A boy standing way in the back. He had the look of a Stark, in fact he looked more Stark than any one else present. 'That must be Jon Snow', Roland was sure of it. Yet, there was something else about him, something that intrigued him. But before he could think on it any further, Robert Baratheon appeared at the gates.