Damn this one was chunky! Hope you guys enjoy it!
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As we galloped towards the place where they had the Night's Watch deserter detained, my father explained to Bran how the situation worked and why it was necessary to execute him.
"Why is it necessary to execute him, father?" Bran asked while tilting his head.
"He made an oath, son. And by becoming a deserter, he broke it and needs to pay for that," my father explained.
"But what if he had his reasons?" asked Bran innocently.
"It does not matter, son. He broke his oath and deserves death; a man cannot live without honor," he answered with his face set in a grim line.
Bran nodded, lowering his eyes, thinking he had made Father mad with all his questions.
My father sighed, and getting his horse closer to Bran's, he rubbed his head affectionately. "This is no easy decision, my son. But I am the one who has to give him justice; it is my duty as the Lord Paramount, and Robb will inherit this when he is older."
"I understand, father," Bran said. "Will you at least ask him why he ran away from the Watch?"
My father kept silent for a moment before answering. "Yes, my son. From what I've heard, he was a good lad and was with the Night's Watch for a while. He deserves some last words, at the very least."
Keeping our silence after a brief lull in the conversation, I got closer to Bran to keep him company. Jon, knowing what I was doing, did the same on the other side.
"Everything will be fine, Bran," Jon said with a small smile.
"You just need to pay attention while Father delivers justice. He will know if you look away," I warned him.
"Does he deserve death, Robb?" Bran asked me.
"I don't know, little brother, but even if he doesn't, he will die today," I said after a moment, before adding, "And it is our job to find out and maybe do what he asks of us before the execution."
Before long, we arrived where a bunch of the Night's Watch brothers were in a circle, and in the middle of it was Willas, the deserter.
Father dismounted his horse, and the rest of us followed his example. Getting closer, we heard them asking why he did it.
"They were there! I swear, I saw the White Walkers; they decimated our group," he tried to explain.
His only answer was the jeers of his ex-companions, saying that they didn't exist and he was lying to get out of the execution.
My father and Ser Rodrik didn't believe him, so they proceeded with the execution.
Theon grabbed Ice, the ancestral Valyrian steel greatsword my family had owned for generations, and he gave it to my father.
"Do you have any last words, Willas of the Night's Watch?" he asked while raising his sword.
"I swear I saw them, milord. They are real and awake, but I know you won't believe me. Just tell my family that I died with honor," he said with his head held high, looking directly into my father's eyes.
Before he could decapitate him, I stepped forward and asked my father to give me a moment.
"What exactly did you see, Willas? Explain in detail, and I'll make sure your family hears about your deeds."
A couple of the Night's Watch members got pissed that I even wanted to waste their time with nonsense.
"Why do you want to ask this coward about his lies?" asked one.
"Silence," I said calmly, only giving him a look that made him nervous before going back to Willas.
"Don't tell me to..." the Night's Watch member started moving, but before he could get closer to me, Jon already had a dagger across his throat.
"Let him be, Jon. I'm sure he learned to keep silent before I do something," I told Jon with a shake of my head.
I had made sure Jon didn't get only the embellishments about the present Night's Watch; they did deserve respect for protecting us from the wildlings, but that didn't mean most of them were there just to escape executions and were scummy characters.
The Night's Watch member took a couple of steps back, dragging his hand across his neck where he could feel a thin line made by the dagger, and looked horrified at Jon.
"Start explaining, Willas. You will die today, I can't change that, but that doesn't mean you have to die like a coward. If you truly saw what you said, I'll make sure that your family hears about this," I told Willas calmly.
"Thank you, milord. I swear I'm not lying. The White Walkers are north of the Wall. When we were in the forest, I got away from my team, and I saw a bunch of body parts thrown in a circle, but they were way too orderly for it to be possible an animal attack or something, and wildlings don't do that."
"Continue," I asked him.
"Then..." he stammered while gathering his courage. "I got scared to go alone... it felt wrong to be there, so I went back to my group to tell them so that we could investigate together."
"And then what?" asked Jon with an eyebrow raised.
"We went back, but the bodies were gone, there was no blood either, and the snow was pouring like something I've never seen," he stopped for a moment. "They called me a coward, but I was sure I wasn't hallucinating.
"Then we heard something, someone was standing behind us; he appeared out of nowhere," he gasped, his trembling showing that he was scared of the memory.
"That thing destroyed Coleen. He grasped his throat and ripped it off with his bare hands."
"What else happened, Willas?" I probed him.
"The rest of us attacked him, but we couldn't harm him," he kept trembling. "Jonas cut his arm off, but that thing wasn't even alive, I swear," he shouted.
"He didn't seem to feel that and kept fighting like he didn't lose an arm a moment prior, we stabbed it but that thing didn't even budge," he was spitting now, his rage clear for all to see.
"That thing is the enemy of the living, it's an anomaly. I swear that I'm speaking the truth, milord," he ended up whispering.
Everyone present was silent. Willas was speaking and showing signs that he truly believed what he saw. The pain, stress, and fear were too real, but even then, a few people started shouting that it was a lie.
I nodded at him and mouthed that I believed him. Hopefully, he would die knowing that I would keep my promise. He shed a few tears before looking back at my father and telling him that he had said everything he could.
My father was somewhat disturbed by the deserter's tale. He took Ice back, raised it into the air, and then brought it down.
Willas's head rolled for a moment before coming to a stop. His face was set with grim satisfaction, not fear of death. At that moment, I regretted that I couldn't save him, but I would make sure his family was rewarded for this.
"Ptui!," one of the guards spat on the ground. "Good riddance. That's the end every deserter deserves."
My father handed Ice to Theon to clean and secure before walking toward us.
"What do you think of this, Robb?" he asked me seriously.
"I don't know, Father, but I don't like this," I told him, as it wouldn't change anything if I told him the truth.
My father nodded after a moment before looking at Bran. "I'm proud of you, Bran. You kept your composure until the end."
"Do you think he was telling the truth, Father? About the White Walkers?" Bran asked timidly and somewhat scared.
My father was silent for a moment. "No, son. I think it was a ruse. The wildlings are known for committing atrocities; I wouldn't put something like this past them."
Bran nodded in understanding, having heard of the things wildlings have done when they manage to get past the Wall.
"Are we going back home now?" he asked after a while.
"Yes, son. We're going back. Everyone, get ready to depart," my father said.
While we were on our way back, I continued using my powers to pinpoint the location of the direwolves. Seeing that we would reach them soon, I was ecstatic. I had always loved the direwolves in the series and, to be honest I cried over the fate of some of them. I promised myself that those deaths wouldn't happen here.
"Lord Stark, there's something ahead," a vanguard said.
As we got closer, I saw the corpse of the mother, feeling a pang in my heart at the sight.
"By the Old Gods…" Ser Rodrik mumbled, "There hasn't been any direwolf south of the Wall for years. And this one was killed by a stag."
"And it seems it isn't the only one now," I said, cradling a direwolf pup. I couldn't deny feeling excited to see one in real life. I grabbed the largest of the pups, took it into my arms, and then slowly picked up the others.
"Help me with this, Jon," I asked him.
Jon moved closer, and I kept taking the pups and handing them to him. After a while, I had extracted all of them from the mother. Even Ghost was in Jon's arms, and I could see that he was already in love with him.
"Their mother died; they should be put down," Theon said, and some guards nodded in agreement.
"No one will harm the pups," I said with a level of emotion I didn't even know I was capable of. My bugs sensed my emotions and started buzzing in response.
Everyone became alert to the strange sound, and the only ones who knew about my powers looked at me oddly.
I rubbed the back of my neck sheepishly. Maybe hormones were already affecting this body, and I had become somewhat emotional.
Ordering my insects to disperse and trying to look innocent, I said, "That was weird… We should get out of the forest fast, I don't want to find out what that was." I encouraged my horse to start moving.
"What about the pups?" Ser Rodrik asked.
"What else? One pup for each Stark child. We'll take care of them, and they will be our companions. They are, after all, our sigil," I said with finality as if asking them to drop the topic.
After a brief moment, everyone started moving, and my father approached me.
"I always wonder how you command this level of respect from our guards, Robb," he said with a smile before frowning but then chuckling. "It's a shame it won't help you escape your mother's wrath."
"I'll take care of her," I said confidently before frowning. "At least I hope so."
Winterfell at Dawn
Arriving at Winterfell with the rest in tow, we found the rest of the family waiting for us. Sansa was smiling demurely, Arya was jumping with excitement, eager to hear about our adventure, and Rickon was in my mother's arms, trying to wriggle free.
My mother had a small frown on her face, showing that she was preoccupied with something, but she managed a strained smile to welcome us.
"Winterfell is yours, my husband," she said with a small gesture. Once all the formalities were done, everyone gathered around us, but they all stopped when they saw the movement in the bundles of cloth Jon and I were carrying.
"What is that?" Arya asked excitedly, jumping on the spot.
"The Old Gods have sent us some companions," I said dramatically before opening the bundle.
Six small heads popped up and started wagging their tails. Excited squeals erupted from the girls, and even Rickon moved closer to them.
My mother grabbed the scruff of my neck while pretending to hug me.
"We'll talk later, young man."
"In private, I hope," I said nervously.
"You can thank me later for that, but we need to speak as a family about one more thing." She said this jokingly at first but finished seriously.
I nodded and waited for them to choose which pup they wanted. Maybe it was fate, but each one chose the same as in the series.
"Follow us, Robb," my father told me after finishing a hushed conversation with Catelyn.
As we walked in silence to the solar, I wondered how my father would react to the news. In this life, his relationship with the King and the Hand was strained due to their decisions. I wondered if his "honor" for their friendship would prevail or if he would stay loyal to the North if the King asked for his help.
When we arrived at the solar, Mother served a large measure of vodka in one glass and two cups of watered wine for herself and me. After giving them to us, she took a seat.
"I hate to be the bearer of bad news, my love, but the Hand of the King, Jon Arryn, is dead," she said, sad to be the one delivering the news but with some apathy because she truly disliked him due to the sanctions, even though he was her sister's husband.
My father drank the entire glass of vodka in one shot before standing up and walking in circles. He was mourning his foster father.
"There is more, isn't there, Mother?" I asked.
"No, it's not," she said, pursing her lips. "The King is bringing a royal caravan to Winterfell. And both of you know why he would do this."
"Fucking hypocrites," I said with a frown. "They start by taking our money, and now they want to take the lord of our house? Well, fuck them," I snarled.
"Robb…" my father began. "It would be a great honor. Maybe they now think differently about the sanctions, and making me the Hand is their way of apologizing."
I looked at him with the most deadpan expression I could manage. "I truly find it concerning if you believe that, Father."
"I'm sorry, my love, but Jon is right. They need you right now, and they are going to ask for your help even after all they've done to the North," said my mother, shaking her head.
"We'll hear what Robert has to say. We need to prepare to receive the royal family either way; it's not like we can tell them they are not welcome," said my father with a defeated sigh.
"And send a letter to all the lords who own lands near the Kingsroad to be on their best behavior. We know they are not happy; let's make sure they remember to be on their best behavior," I told him seriously, knowing some northern lords might be tempted to tell the King to go to hell.
"I'll go to the Maester right now," my father said, nodding and starting toward Lewin's room.
"He seems excited," I told my mother. "Hopefully, he will think of the North and not his sense of honor."
Catelyn shook her head. "I wouldn't bet gold on it, dear."
Getting closer to me to embrace me, she said, "For your father, his honor is the most important thing, I would hope for him to tell the king a resounding no, but we both know that not might be possible, from what I've heard of the king, he does not ask, he commands people to do things"
I let out a sigh while kissing her brow, "Well fix everything as a family. I hope he only asks for that."
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