Chapter 4

The war against the Ironborn was raging in full swing. While Ned and his men were fighting for the king, Robb was doing his duties as the acting lord all the while entertaining his younger siblings.

Sansa was four years old and was being taught how to read and write. Catelyn had once again tried to bring a septa to teach Sansa about the Faith. Robb had dealt with that issue quite decisively.

"I will not tolerate it, mother! Those septas talk bad about Jon and the Old Gods! You have your sept here, no one is preventing you from praying to your gods or following your faith, ya' know. But, I will not have these septas poison my sister against her own brother and her people!!"

"I will not have you talk to me in that way, Robb! I'm your mother!"

"And I'm the acting lord of this house! Father sent that septa away when she tried to poison me with her words, ya' know. I will not allow you to bring her in this castle behind father's back!!"

"Robb!"

"No! Enough!!"

Catelyn gaped at her son like a fish out of water. Never had she imagined for her son to be so vehemently against her faith. Even more so, she never imagined her son speaking so rudely to her. She cried a lot that day. Her son favored his bastard brother over his own mother. Why couldn't he see that the bastard was a threat to him and his position as the future lord of house Stark?

Robb obliterated all the targets in the training yard that day. He didn't want to face any opponents, fearing that he might kill them out of his anger at his mother.

With specially designed knives, which were essentially kunai, Robb practiced throwing them for the entire day until the point the targets had fallen apart from the countless holes and splinters being torn off from them. Robb hacked at training dummies with a sword and broke them with his swings. The people around him were terrified of him that day.

He finally cooled down and made sure that the septa was sent off before he went back to his chambers. He thought that meditating on the natural energy would help him sleep, but it only diverted his focus to the sword that was buried under the heart tree.

'I have to dig it out.' Robb thought as he tossed and played with a kunai. He had a set of three dozen kunai that were specially made for him. Mikken was certainly intrigued by the design, and Robb had to talk his way out of explaining how he came up with the concept of the kunai.

Robb had decided to avoid making Mikken forge any shuriken as their design was simply too bizarre for those around him. He was already pushing it with the kunai.

Robb also made sure not to neglect training his unarmed combat. Given that no one around him paid much attention to it, if at all, he decided to practice his skills in seclusion within the walls of his chambers.

With all the training, meditating, practicing, learning, and doing his lordly duties, Robb's hands were full. He truly appreciated Jon's thoughtfulness as the boy was ever present to lend a hand and share the burden. Little Sansa also tried to help with moving things such as parchments and such. It wasn't much, but it was the sentiment that counted.

'This body is weak!' Robb thought as he swung hard at the wooden logs with an axe. Cutting wooden logs was part of his training. He would also swing hammers that were heavy for his strength and age, in both of his hands as if they were swords to train his wrists and arms.

'At nine, I was free falling from the hokage mountain just for the thrill. Now, I'll break my body if I fall from the window of my room. So fragile.. So weak... So easy to kill.'

Robb knew that without chakra, he could never reach the strength he used to have as Naruto. But, the natural energy around him had a nurturing effect on his body even when he wasn't meditating.

'Perhaps... I could do this like Bushy brows did.'

Robb chuckled as he thought how Lee and Gai would give him their iconic smile and a thumbs up while yelling about youth, if they could hear his thoughts at the moment.

"Hah!"

*Thunk*

"Hah!"

*Thunk*

'Kurama would be busting his gutt over me being a midget again.'

"Hah!"

*Thunk*

"Hah!"

*Thunk*

'I miss them. I miss my grandkids. They must be grown ups now... Having their own families... Their own lives... I just wish I could be with them for a little bit longer.'

"Hah!"

*Thunk*

"Hah!"

*Thunk*

(TTOTUGS)

Catelyn's faith was a big part of her life. For her son to vehemently deny the teachings, it pained her severly. Even more, she saw a bright future in Sansa. She 'knew' that her daughter would grow up to marry into a Warden's house or become the next queen.

She wanted her son to understand her. But Robb was so blinded by his affection for Jon that he didn't even try to see through her eyes. Even Sansa was entangled into Jon's web. She felt her hatred for the boy grow so much that she prayed every single day for her gods to free her family from him.

They had done it the first when Jon fell sick from the pox, they could do it again.

'To the Stranger, I pray for you to take Jon Snow with you. He is a bastard, an abomination to the teachings of the faith. He has poisoned my family against the Seven. Set my family free from what plagues it.'

She prayed and prayed again to the Stranger, but they were never answered. Jon remained healthy and happy with no signs of the Stranger's sword looming over his neck.

Day in and day out, Catelyn spent her time in the sept, plraying with even more vigor for Jon's death. To everyone else at Winterfell, she was praying for the safety of Ned Stark.

Whatever she did, her children were oblivious to it and spent their days doing their duties as members of the house. Jon was finally beginning to show the results of his training in the yard. He still couldn't defeat Robb, but the others tasted dirt multiple times against him.

Sansa was proving to be a bright girl as she soaked up everything that was taught to her by Luwin. Robb even gave her an empty book and a set of brushes made from the tail hair of squirrels. As for the ink, he made it from charcoal and water. Sansa loved it and spent her time drawing and painting in the book. She also practiced calligraphy in it. According to Robb, it would help develop patience in her and that it was a useful skill.

Arya was speaking more fluently while Bran was starting to take his first steps.

The heart tree kept calling to him. Every day, he would visit the tree, but the feeling of the call never dampened.

One night, Robb saw his chance and left for the Godswood. With a set of kunai and his axe, he silently made his way out of the castle. The guards were quite vigilant, but Robb proved to be far more stealthy than the average catspaw assassin.

He reached the heart tree and closed his eyes. He breathed in the natural energy from the air and felt the location where he was going to dig. With a pair of kunai, he dug into the dirt at the base of the heart tree. It took him a while to reach the sword that was buried a few feet deep.

He carefully grabbed the sword by its hilt and climbed out of the hole he had dug. With a wet cloth, he cleaned the dirt off the sword and looked at it in the moonlight.

If he were to describe the sword in one word, it would be 'Magnificent'. The blade of the sword was flawless and shone blue under the moonlight. The guard was dark, and the handle was wrapped in some form of leather. The most intriguing part of the sword was the pommel. Robb could 'feel' the cold from it. It didn't feel dangerous, and he he chose to try and touch it.

The pale blue crystal was cold, but it was bearable. He could feel a slight tingle going up his arm. Then, he felt the warmth of the natural energy.

'This crystal contains concentrated natural energy in it. I can feel it... The energy feels infinite. It's replenishing any used energy on its own... This sword... It's magical.'

Robb took out a dagger from his waistband and gently touched the blade of the sword with it. Immediately, the dagger shattered like glass!

Robb inhaled sharply and stared at the sword in awe.

'W-Who burried it here? In this age of steel and metal, this sword is the bane of all.'

The feeling of being 'called' by the tree had finally dampened. 'Was it the sword?'

He carefully wrapped the sword in thick cloth and hid it in a locked box.

It was later, from a book in the library, that he learned of the coveted swords made from the fabled Valyrian steel and the long lost sword of the Starks. The original 'Ice'.

'This is 'Ice'... The true blade of the Starks. I don't know if I'll ever use this sword, and I dearly hope that the time will never come for me to unleash this blade upon my enemies.'

(TTOTUGS)

A/N: TV and movies have really skewed the general person's understanding of swords. They are not good weapons against plate armor or chain mail. You can't punch holes in a plate armor with a sword. The armors could block bullets in the 18th century!

Instead, armored men were taken down by blunt weapons such as war hammers or pole arms such as a pole axe or a halberd. Punching a hole in plate armor, especially in the chest plate and the top of the helment, is incredibly difficult and it's the massive blunt force transferring through the armor and into the body that was devastating. Another way was to attack the gaps in plate armor, i.e., the joints, the neck, space between vambraces and the gauntlets, and so on.

Fortunately, ASOIAF/GOT has a cheat against plate and mail armor. Valyrian steel can cut through normal steel.