Chapter 9

It was a grand feast, and the king seemed to enjoy it... But it was a little too much for Robb's liking. The former reminded him of Jiraya... Just a lot more pathetic and weak.

Robb was having a hard time reigning in his outrage at the betrothal of Sansa to Joffrey. He was fine with Ned becoming the new Hand, but betrothing Sansa to a lunatic like Joffrey? It was like having Himawai be wed to Orochimaru.

'Ugh, the thought of it makes me want to beat someone up within the inch of their life!'

He had expressed his misgivings to Ned. No, he was outraged by it and made it known explicitly to Ned, going as far as to call the man impulsive and far too naive. It was sufficient to say that Ned was not pleased by his son's language and disrespect towards him.

Robb wasn't even going to try talking to Catelyn about it. She was already high in the clouds over the prospect of her daughter becoming the queen of the seven kingdoms. He wasn't enjoying the feast and couldn't even bother to chide Arya when she threw food at Sansa. He simply grabbed the little brat by her nape and took her away to tuck her into bed.

'My father's an idiot.'

(TTOTUGS)

"Alright, lads! Steady on your feet!"

Stark guards were doing their daily training with Jory. Meanwhile, Robb, Jon, and Theon were drilling eighteen men into the ground. Those eighteen men were the leaders of the elite army that was raised by Robb.

So far, the army had reached a whooping 12,000 strong. Those 12,000 were divided into four brigades of 3,000 each. A brigade of 3,000 was further divided into ten small battalions of 300 each. The command was thus divided between 17 elite men who were personally trained by Robb to form the backbone of the army.

Additionally, two thousand more men were trained specifically for the defense of Winterfell and the Starks and had their separate commanders. These 2000 men had ten batallions with their leaders.

These 27 commanders and leaders were the strongest, fiercest, and smartest on the battlefield. Each of them could prove to be a worthy opponent of any of the southern knights. They might not win as individuals, but a battlefield was never a place for fair duels and morals.

Robb was not in a good mood, but he had managed to curb his anger thus far. He was not going to take his frustration out on his men. Sadly, no one told Joffrey Baratheon to keep his mouth shut, and with the king standing on the balcony along with Ned, Robb had no choice but to entertain the little anarchist.

"Prince Joffrey." Robb greeted with a nod.

The boy sneered and said, "Training with tourney swords? Not even live steel? I shouldn't expect much from northerners, anyway."

'Try me, chicken shit! I'll skin you with a butter knife!'

"I don't want my men to be harmed. But, if you truly want to, you can spar with me using live steel." Robb said that with a cold and unforgiving voice. Everyone around could feel the hostility in the air.

Up on the balcony, Ned was about to say something when Robert quietly said, "Let them continue, Ned. That boy needs to learn to respect his people. I can tell that your boy can fold Joffrey's spine with his bare hands. He's holding himself well. I'd have lost my shit long ago."

Joffrey took a step back, and Robert immediately shouted, "What the hell you're doing, boy?! How dare you take a step back from him! No son of mine is a coward!! Take out your fucking sword!!"

Robb could see that Joffrey's knees were beginning to shake. The latter withdrew his sword from its sheath and could barely hold the sword without letting his arm tremble from anxiety.

"Alright, prince Joffrey. Us northerners are savage folk with little skill. We usually fight head-on. I'd be honored to learn from you." Saying that Robb extended his hand to Jon, who then handed him a regular steel sword.

There were no telegraphed movements and no show of skill, Robb simply stood with the sword hand extended and waited for Joffrey to attack. He could tell that the latter was getting angry as Robb was looking at him with utter arrogance and mockery.

Joffrey yelled and attacked head-first with a thrust of his sword. Robb merely tapped the sword away and sidestepped, letting Joffrey run past him. Then, he smacked the boy in the back with the flat of the sword and sent him falling into the mud.

"Huh... Seems like you southerners are no better than us. Attacking head-on like a savage."

Joffrey lost his mind and screamed, "Dog! I want his head! Now!"

It was at that moment Robb looked up and said to the king, "This is the boy you want my sister to marry?"

As the hound moved forward to strike Robb down, the latter smacked the oncoming sword away without taking his eyes off the king and slapped Sandor's face hard with the flat side of the sword. The man's head whipped away, and he fell with blood spitting out of his mouth.

Robert looked furious and yelled, "What the fuck are you doing, boy?! Ordering your dog to kill the heir of a lord paramount?! Ordering him to kill Ned's son?! Wait till I get my hand on ya', you sniveling mongrel!! Get your bloody arse up and clean yourself!"

Meanwhile, Ned was outraged as well and he quietly said, "Robb, I want you to come to the solar, now."

'If the betrothal isn't broken now, I'll be royally pissed off.'

(TTOTUGS)

"What were you thinking?!" Ned shouted at Robb.

"I was just showing you Joffrey Baratheon's true colors. He ordered his dog to kill me just because he lost a spar." Robb said with confidence.

"He is the bloody heir to the throne!"

"And Sansa is my sister! I'd be damned if a freak like Joffrey marries her! I don't care if he's the fucking heir, I refuse to let Sansa suffer at that boy's hands!"

"You don't have any right to make that decision! I'm her father and I'll decide whom she will marry! Know your place, Robb! You are my son and her brother, not the lord of the house! I will not have you embarrass the Stark name any further! You will march out to Robert and beg him for mercy for your slight! Do you understand, Robb?"

Robb didn't look away from Ned and neither did he reply. Ned grew angrier and yelled, "I asked, do you understand, Robb?! Answer me, boy!!"

"Aye, lord Stark."

Robb immediately walked out. He knew that trying to reason with Ned was futile. He wasn't going to listen.

He marched towards the Godswood and sat next to the Weirwood tree to calm down. 'I understand you love the king like a brother. But, you need to do what's best for your family, not your estranged brother who is nothing like he was in your childhood! Joffrey, that spoiled, maniacal brat doesn't deserve Sansa!'

(TTOTUGS)

Ned and the king were out hunting and Robb, along with Jon and Theon, was with them. The trio was busy doing their own thing and didn't truly involve themselves in the hunt. Instead, they were training Liam and Ghost to dodge projectiles while chasing their prey.

All the dire wolf pups had grown significantly. They were nowhere near their adult size, but, Robb was certain that the wolves would be big enough to dwarf their mother.

He was proud of Liam and didn't hold back in telling the pup. The little dire wolf wasn't just a pet, he was like another brother to Robb. The training was over and they were sitting at the edge of the forest when a rider galloped toward Ned and Robert.

Robb's eyes widened upon hearing what the rider had to say. Everyone immediately rushed back to Winterfell.

Bran had taken a fall and his body was broken. His fate and future, unknown.