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Wolf Pact by DizzyDG

 TV » Game of Thrones Rated: M, English, Family & Romance, [Robb S., Myrcella B.], Words: 163k+, Favs: 1k+, Follows: 1k+, Published: Dec 24, 2015 Updated: Sep 13, 2018865Chapter 20: XVIII: Reminisce

A/N: Hey guys! Happy weekend to you all, a three day weekend hopefully for those of you in the UK like me! Anyway, here is the new chapter, hope you enjoy!

EndlessReign: Yes, he will be back, no worries about that. I just wanted to give Myrcella a chance to spread her wings without him being around. The servants certainly aren't making life easy for her, but she knows what's important. Obviously she'd rather they be warmer to her, but there is little she can do about. Plus, you're probably right that one or two of them are just a bit jealous. Anyway, thank you, glad you're enjoying her stepping up to her role as queen.

Guest: You're very welcome!

Jean d'arc: Hi there! Glad you enjoyed the chapter, and the bond forming between Myrcella and Catelyn. Indeed, I think you're right, and Myrcella certainly didn't know. I imagine she thought the role of the lady would just be to leave things to others, but she's getting a better grasp on it now.

Boramir: Thank you very much, I certainly imagine that running Winterfell would be a huge undertaking. I think Myrcella may have naively thought that Robb did most of the work, but he has more things to worry about. Running the household would not be something that figures much in his duties. Good suggestion with the dragonglass, though I think Robb and Tywin both would have thought of it. If they had to march to the Wall again it would be best if they already had the right weapons to hand to arm their men with before marching. Yes, Myrcella's encounter with Thom may well lead her to meeting Ada, but whether or not she finds out about her former relationship with Robb is something I haven't decided yet.

Right-ho folks, on with the chapter!

:)

XVIII: Reminisce

Robb

Robb had been more glad that he could explain to see the small settlement rising up out of the mist after journeying for near a week. Only a few of the little fishing huts had plumes of smoke rising up from the roofs, and he imagined most of the inhabitants had already made the journey to Last Hearth for the winter. Usually it was the old who remained behind, unable or unwilling to make the journey through the snow. Robb knew well enough that not all of them would survive winter, but he tried not to dwell upon it as they came upon the stables and large storage barn. Several horses were already tethered so he knew well enough that the men of the Night's Watch would already have arrived. His eyes went to the barn as he dismounted, handing the reins to Billy with thanks. He noted the lock on the barn doors, and the two men stood guard outside, and knew at once that the deserter must be being kept inside.

Further on he could see the shapes of several tents and the flickers of bonfires. On seeing them he gave the order to his small band of men to set up camp amongst the men of the Watch. They agreed readily, already unpacking canvas and furs from the horses. Robb walked away from them then, making his way to the guards at the barn, seeing the sigil of house Umber stitched into their cloaks. "How is Lord Umber faring?" Robb asked as he approached, remembering the Greatjon being unable to attend his wedding due to illness. The Smalljon had returned to Last Hearth after their trip to Torrhen's Square, and he had heard nothing since.

"My lord is faring better," one of the men informed him, "though he has been taking less duties, he asked us to relay his well wishes to you, your Grace, and to the queen."

"That is most kind of him," Robb said, inclining his head, "you must relay my own well wishes, and hopes that he soon makes a full recovery." The man bowed his head at that, and promised to pass on Robb's message. "Does our deserter speak?" Robb asked next, inclining his head towards the barn door.

"Only to say he is cold, that he only wanted to go home," the man informed him, and Robb sighed heavily.

"How old?" Robb asked next, steeling himself for the answer.

"A man grown, your Grace, he has seen over thirty name days I would wager," the man informed him, and he took a breath of relief. It was always worse when the deserters were young and would quake with fear, begging for forgiveness. Robb hated having to pass the sentence of death to them, but they had broken vows, and he had to uphold the laws of the country that had existed for far longer than he had. His father had had to endure it, and now he did too. It was the way of the world, the duty he had been born to do.

"Have him ready at first light," Robb said, again inclining his head.

The man returned his gesture; "as you wish, your Grace."

With that Robb turned heel and walked away, skirting round the shores of the lake to try and gather his thoughts before turning and heading up towards the camp. This was only the fourth time he had had to ride out to deal with a deserter, but each time it stabbed as a reminder of the last time he had ridden out with his father. When they had found the direwolves, not long before King Robert had come down from the Capitol and unwittingly asked his father to come to his death. Robb clenched his fists hard. It still hurt to think of it. Still angered him. Even after all these years he could still not make peace with the injustice of it all. Grey Wind's happy whines and yelps drew his attention as he walked closer to the camp, hearing the yaps of another wolf joining in with his elation.

He followed the sounds, knowing they would lead him to his brother. Sure enough, he passed between two tents to see Grey Wind and Ghost rolling around happily and snapping playfully at one another, and an amused looking Jon stood in the mouth of his own tent watching them. "Would you be offended if I declined us rolling in the snow?" Robb spoke up to draw his attention, and Jon grinned widely on seeing him.

"Wondered when you would show up," his brother said, and Robb stamped towards him.

"Lord Commander," he stopped a few feet from him and inclined his head.

"Your Grace," Jon inclined his own head, before they both laughed heartily and stepped forward to meet in a brotherly embrace.

"You look half wild, brother," Robb stepped back, ruffling his hand in Jon's unruly hair, taking in the length of it and the length of his beard.

"And you look well groomed, brother," Jon returned, "as a king ought to, I would wager." Robb only laughed at that, rolling his eyes and clapping Jon on the shoulder. "Come, they have just brought meat and mead," Jon said, clapping his hand between his shoulder blades and guiding him into his tent. There was a brazier flickering in the middle, and Robb moved to it, removing his gloves and warming his hands by the flames for a moment as Jon poured them both a tankard. "Have you seen him?" Jon asked as he offered one of the tankards to him.

"No," Robb replied, taking it from him, "I spoke with the guards, told them to have him ready by morning. Did you know him?"

"Of course I knew him," Jon said, seating himself down at the table. Robb moved to take the seat opposite him, taking in his brother's stance, and seeing him relaxed. From that he could only conclude that the deserter had not been someone he had been friendly with, something that helped to quell his lingering unease.

"Have him pegged for a deserter?" Robb asked, taking a long drink of the mead and finding it rich and fulfilling. "This is a good barrel," he commented before Jon could answer his question.

"Aye," his brother agreed, "brought down from Last Hearth as a gesture of goodwill to you, your Grace." Jon grinned at the end and Robb narrowed his eyes slightly at him.

"And how much have you and your men helped yourselves to?" he asked, and Jon chuckled.

"There's plenty left, never fear," Jon said mockingly.

"Good," Robb said pointedly, taking another long draught from his tankard.

"To answer your question, perhaps," Jon said after a moment, "he never settled nor formed a close bond with any of the others. To say he was reluctant to say his vows would be an understatement, but he did swear them. No one forced him. We all have a chance to say no, Robb, but he didn't. He swore his life to the Watch, and now he has to pay for his desertion." Robb nodded slowly at that, hearing Jon's words definitely made him feel a whole lot better about the duty he would have to perform come morning. "Anyway," Jon spoke up again as he moved to help himself to the meat and bread that had been brought for them. "Enough of this unpleasantness for now. How is everything? Everyone? It has been far too long since I have seen any of you."

"Everyone is fine, the threat of winter is weighing on all our minds, but our stores are healthy enough, and it cannot be any worse than the last one," Robb said, grimacing slightly at the memory of the seemingly never-ending, bitterly cold weather and near constant darkness.

"Last one tested us all," Jon agreed grimly, "I don't think we would be alone in praying for a winter as short as the summer we briefly enjoyed." Robb hummed his agreement at that, pulling some of the food onto his own plate. "How is the queen?" Jon asked almost tentatively, his eyes fixed on his plate rather than on Robb.

"Perfectly well," Robb answered him, "or at least she was when I left Winterfell, I can only hope she is still as I left her."

"Good," Jon sounded relieved, raising his head back up from his plate and moving to top up their tankards. Again Robb hummed his agreement, his mouth full of boar that was far more tender than he had imagined it would be. "Bran?" Jon asked next, licking his fingers clean of grease.

"Growing more learned by the day," Robb informed him, and his brother nodded slowly.

"Rickon?" he asked as Robb took another mouthful.

"Finally getting on better with his sums," Robb told him once he had swallowed down his mouthful, and Jon chuckled.

"Arya?" he inquired next, and Robb rolled his eyes.

"A pain in my neck," he said exasperatedly, "but I would not change her for anything, and she seems to have struck up some kind of affinity with Myrcella now, which makes life slightly easier."

"I don't suppose you have seen much of Sansa," Jon raised a brow before bringing his flagon back up to his lips.

"She came for the wedding," Robb said, "with Olyvar and the girls, we will not see them now until winter is over, but they were all well in the time we had with them."

"And your mother?" Jon asked slightly stiffly, and Robb smiled slightly.

"As well as she can be," he said honestly, "though she is still in widows black." Jon nodded sympathetically at that as Robb took a rather large mouthful of mead.

"I still miss him too," Jon said quietly after a long moment of silence, and Robb nodded heavily.

"We all do," he said just as quietly, and they both lapsed into silence for another long moment.

"Do you ever wonder what he would think of us now?" Jon finally spoked up again, and Robb's brow furrowed as he thought on it.

"I hope he'd be proud," he said honestly after a moment's reflection.

"Aye, no doubt," Jon nodded his head, "King in the North, and of the Trident, peace with the Lannisters and the family safe."

"I'm not sure he'd be happy with all of that," Robb said honestly, sighing heavily before taking a long drink.

"You did what you had to do, it doesn't mean you've forgiven them," Jon said quietly, his eyes insistent when Robb met them.

"I just wish I could have ended the Kingslayer and his bitch of a sister," Robb said irritably, "that would have been real justice. They spawned our father's killer, they created the monster who took him from us." His hands were shaking by the end, and he clenched them both round his tankard to quell the shake.

"You couldn't have refused," Jon said quietly, "you would have been mad to refuse. Think of the lives you saved by signing that treaty. You did the right thing, I would have done exactly the same in your position."

"But would father?" Robb asked him just as quietly, and he saw Jon sigh heavily. It was something that still plagued Robb, even after all these years. He knew well enough that his father had given up his own life to ensure the secret of the royal children was uncovered. He had exposed them so that Stannis would know he was the rightful heir to the Iron Throne. His father would have backed Stannis had he been able, Robb knew that well enough, and yet he had still helped to ensure that the rightful heir to the throne would never seat it. To help justify it he told himself that Stannis would have plunged the kingdoms into turmoil with his worship of the Red God. He told himself that by helping stamp out his threat he was saving the kingdoms from years of potential civil war. The people would not have taken kindly to their Gods being burned before their eyes, nor their Septons. Nor those who just rejected the new religious ideology Stannis had been intent on installing.

That eased his conscience where Stannis had been concerned, and he told himself that his father would have understood. His father could never have followed a man who would desecrate the Gods he worshipped, rightful heir to the throne or not. He would have followed Renly in his place though, no doubt. Renly had been a friend to his father, and that was the reason Robb had refused point blank to engage him or his army. He had agreed to take his army and meet Stannis, but he had left Renly to Tywin. Renly was dead before the Lannister army had even come upon the camp, slain in the night, and the Tyrells had meekly surrendered there and then. They had taken his head anyway, and adorned it atop the walls of the Red Keep. Robb was glad he had not been there to see that sight. Had been glad to march back to the North and leave the blood and the guilt behind him.

"For the girls," Jon's voice snapped him out of his troubled memories, "he would have done anything to get the girls back." Robb nodded his head, determined to believe his brother, and determined to drown out his memories. If I had done things differently, I would not have Myrcella. She had made signing that treaty even harder. The thought of having her as his wife had filled him with dread. Had almost disgusted him. Now she was the one thing that could keep any lingering guilt away better than anything else ever could. Knowing he had her somehow made all the rest of it blur into insignificance. It made it all worth it. She was a prize, not a burden, and by the Gods he was missing her so much in this moment that he could barely stand it. "Are you alright?" Jon asked him concernedly, and he nodded automatically.

"I will be," he responded, "as soon as this is over with and I can be on my way home again."

The sky dawned a glorious red, a sure sign of blood being spilled this day, at least according to the old tales. Robb wasn't sure that was a tale he had much faith in, given the amount of blood he had known to be shed on days that had dawned grey or white or yellow. Still, the sky was not wrong on this occasion, the deserter's blood would stain the snow within the hour, Robb himself would make certain of that. He stretched his back slightly as he breathed in the morning air, his breath rising in clouds before him. Gods, he was sick and tired of sleeping on the hard snow covered ground, with only a canvas sheet between him and the snow, and furs all around him. He longed to be wrapped in furs and his wife, be warm and snug and bare instead of shivering himself into an uneasy and uncomfortable sleep every night. Sometimes it was easier to sit up and awake, and doze in the saddle during the days ride. At least that way he could be beside a fire.

"Your Grace?" Robb turned at the voice, bringing a smile to his face for Billy who was stood with a plate of food for him.

"Thank you," he said, taking the plate of bread, cheese, and cold meat from the night before, and moving to sit atop an upturned barrel that had been set near the dying embers of one of last night's bonfires.

"Morning," Jon's sleepy voice drew his attention as he ate, and he looked up to see his brother settling opposite him with a plate of his own.

"Morning," Robb returned when he had swallowed his mouthful.

"I expect you will be away as soon as this is done with," Jon guessed well, and Robb nodded his head.

"Aye," he confirmed, "it does no good to linger in such times, and I have men who want to be at home."

"No doubt you yourself want to be home," Jon said knowingly, and Robb nodded his head again.

"I cannot deny that," he said, smiling wryly, "it is all I have ever wanted since I marched south all those years ago. Yet it seems there is always something to drag me away again."

"The perils of being King," Jon said, and he snorted. "Aye," Robb agreed heavily, "one of many. Anyway, don't listen to me, you have burdens of your own. Do you have any out ranging at the moment?" He determined to change the subject, talking about home just made him miss it all the more.

"We have a few out, but with luck they will have returned by the time we do," Jon answered him, "likely we will not stray far from the Wall now winter is really setting in, but if you were wondering about the walkers, we have seen nothing." Robb nodded at that, his discomfort eased somewhat. It was foolish, but whenever he received a letter bearing the Lord Commander's seal he always braced himself for news that the dead were walking once more.

"Good," he said simply, and Jon nodded his agreement.

"If I can live out my days without seeing another of those nightmares I will die a happy man," Jon said, and Robb could only agree with him.

"Aye," he said, "I never know what was worse, them or the dragons." Jon chuckled slightly at that, draining his tankard before setting it down in the snow.

"At least there were only three of them," Jon winked at him, and Robb rolled his eyes.

"Aye," he said wryly, "when you put it like that…" he tailed off with a grin, and Jon smiled widely back. Billy approached them then, and Robb looked to him expectantly.

"Apologies, your Grace," he bowed shortly, "the men are ready with the deserter, shall I bring your sword?"

"Aye, fetch it," Robb said heavily, rising up to his feet, Jon doing the same opposite him. It still felt strange to hear Billy refer to Ice as his sword. To him it was still his father's, the one he had hanging from his hip was his. Still, when it came to dealing out the justice of the North he always used the Valyrian steel. When it was not in use it was hung up above the mantle in his council chambers, a permanent reminder of all the times he had ridden out with his father to witness justice carried out. Despite the bloody end to them, Robb had always enjoyed those trips, the times spent laughing with his father, Jon, and Theon. The times when they would race one another on the way back. He closed his eyes for a moment, pushing those memories to the back of his mind before he opened them again.

"Ready?" Jon asked him, and he nodded curtly.

They walked in step towards the storage barn, seeing Robb's own men, and some members of the Night's Watch already present. They all inclined their heads to them as Robb and Jon made their appearance. There was a silence about them that Robb was unwilling to break, turning his head to see Billy approaching with Ice in its wolf sheath. A rustle from the dying undergrowth drew his attention, and he looked to see Grey Wind and Ghost emerging. Obviously they had just returned from a night's hunting, their muzzles still an ominous red. Grey Wind looked towards him and yapped once, to which Robb inclined his head. With that his wolf and Jon's padded away from where they were gathered and down towards the shore of the lake.

When Billy reached his side he looked towards the two Umber guards and inclined his head to them. They moved to enter the barn at once, and Robb counted the beats of his heart as he waited for them to bring out the deserter. They did not take long, holding the man still in the black of the Watch between them. The man looked resigned to his fate when he briefly met Robb's eyes, not shrinking back from the block that had been laid out ready for him. "Any final words?" Robb asked him, taking a few steps closer to the condemned man.

"Winter would have killed me anyway," the deserter said tiredly, "I took a chance, now I must pay the price." He glanced towards where Robb knew Billy was stood with Ice as he said the words, and Robb nodded grimly.

"Kneel," he said quietly, "keep yourself still and it will be over in an instant, I can promise you that." The man nodded at that, looking almost grateful to him for his words. Robb half turned towards Billy, gesturing for the sword. His squire came forward, and offered the sheath to him.

Robb wrapped his hand around the hilt and pulled it free from the wolf sheath before turning back to the deserter. The two guards stood close behind him as he knelt down in the snow and lay his head down on the block. Robb moved to stand beside him, wrapping both his hands around the hilt of the sword before bowing his head. "I, Robb Stark, Lord of Winterfell and King in the North, and of the Trident, sentence you to die. May the Gods have mercy on your soul," he spoke the words clearly into the silent morning before he lifted Ice into position and swung it easily through the air. He was true to his word, the man kept still and the blow was enough to cleanly sever his head from his shoulders. Robb took a breath, closing his eyes for a moment as the metallic tang of blood stung his nostrils. When he opened his eyes again he moved away, those present bowing their heads to him as he passed by them. As he passed Jon he clapped his brother on the back, before continuing on down towards the shore of the lake.

He pulled off his gloves as he approached the water, leaving them atop one of the larger rocks as he knelt down in the shale and lay Ice in the freezing waters of Long Lake. A crunching of steps had his head turning, and he smiled faintly as Grey Wind prowled towards him, his muzzle now clean but still damp from the water. He nudged Robb's shoulder with his great head, and he moved one of his hands to scratch behind his ears for a moment, before he turned his attention back to Ice. His father had always cleaned it in the pool of the Godswood whenever they returned from dealing out justice, but Robb preferred to wash it clean of blood as soon as he could after an execution. He pulled on the hilt, tugging the great blade from the water and seeing it mostly rid of the blood. Using the hem of his cloak he wiped away the few remaining traces, before drying his hands on his cloak and moving to pull his gloves back on.

With that he picked up Ice and trudged his way back up towards the dismantling camp, Grey Wind padding along quietly at his side. He was glad to see that his own men were moving the packed up canvases and furs to the tethered horses, pleased that they would soon be on their way again. There was a tinge of disappointment that he would not have more time with Jon, but he had long grown used to the separation they had to endure. As he thought of him his brother appeared, Ghost on his own heels and a faint smile on his lips. "I suppose this is goodbye until spring," Jon said knowingly, and Robb nodded his agreement.

"Aye," he said, "let us all pray that the snows will melt swiftly."

"Aye," Jon agreed, and they eyed one another for a moment before stepping forward and embracing tightly. "Take care of everyone," Jon murmured, and Robb gripped him even harder for a moment.

"I will," he said before they broke apart, "and you make sure that wall stays standing, I have enough to deal with without you bringing that trouble to my door." Jon laughed at that, clapping him hard on the shoulder.

"Write when you get back," Jon implored him.

"Aye, you do the same," Robb responded, and his brother nodded his agreement. "Goodbye, for now," Robb nodded slowly, and Jon nodded again.

"Goodbye, Robb," he said, and Robb inclined his own head before turning away and making his way briskly towards his waiting man, Grey Wind hulking along in his wake.

When he reached them Billy came forward at once so he could re-sheath Ice. His squire then moved to strap the sword to one of the horses, and Robb turned his attention to his own mount. He hauled himself up, taking hold of the reins and looking towards Billy to make sure he was up atop his own horse. When he could see that he was, Robb dug his heels lightly into the side of his horse to get him moving. "To Winterfell," he said, moving to the helm of the party, "as swiftly as the Gods will allow us."

A/N: Hope you guys all enjoyed that! Just to warn you I'm off away for a few weeks. I think I should have wifi so updating should be possible, but just in case it's not, don't be too alarmed if you don't see me for a few weeks!

:)

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