Robb was alone in the council chambers with Lords Royce, Tarly, and Mallisters. Also in attendance were Ser Brynden and Jaime Lannister. They were some of his most experienced commanders and knew war as well as any other man in Westeros. So much had been done already by the Lord's Paramount. Food was being stored, arms and armor were being prepared, and more supplies were being sent north to the Wall. Rumors of war were in the air as men were beginning to drill, the frozen fields across the Riverlands and the Westerlands filled with men wielding pikes and bows.
But now Robb had to plan what more needed to be done, especially from him.
"We need a central location to rally," Robb said, his gaze sweeping over the map of Westeros spread out before the six men. "Winterfell is a reasonable location."
"Perhaps for those in the Riverlands, but what about further south, sire?" Lord Royce rumbled. "The Stormlands, the Reach, and Dorne will have a much further march."
"We cannot be waiting for them at Winterfell if the enemy reaches the Wall." Ser Brynden added.
Robb nodded, seeing the reason in their words. "Any region north of or in line with the Riverlands shall head north when I give the word. The armies of the Westerlands shall converge on the Golden Tooth before heading north and the Bloody Gate shall act as the same point for the lords of the Vale," he explained, leaning forward and pointing as he spoke. "The riverlords shall meet at the Crossing and the warriors of the Iron Islands shall sail for the Shadow Tower."
"The Shadow Tower does not have room for their ships," Mallister grunted. "One of my kin, Denys, commands there."
"Lord Hawker shall have to harbor them," Tarly said, pointing towards the northern town. "His town is the only suitable landing spot."
"I'll have Sam send a message to him and Harlaw," Robb promised. "Now, for the rest. Harrenhal, I believe, presents the best rallying point."
"Who will lead them?" Mallister asked.
"You'll all be needed with me in Winterfell," Robb said. "My next choice would be Garlan, but he is too good a warrior to be left behind."
"You'll need someone who is respected by all three regions." Jaime pointed out. "There's a lot of bad blood there, especially from the dornish considering what's happened."
"He raises a good point." Ser Brynden grunted. "I'll do it."
"Uncle…." Robb began to say, but the Blackfish shook his head.
"It's alright, Robb," he said. The fact that he called Robb by his first name meant that this was a very important topic for him. "I'm from the Riverlands, so I have no strong ties to any of the three regions. Besides, I know enough about my business to keep the others in line."
"He's well respected. No one would dare question his motives nor his authority." Jaime said, nodding.
"Your Grace, I'm old." Ser Brynden continued a grim smile on his face. "Yohn will be with the valemen and Jaime with the westermen. Jason will be with his men at the Crossing. I'm expendable in all this."
"You're one of my councilors." Robb protested. In all honesty, he thought the idea was brilliant, but he didn't want the decision to be because of his uncle's age.
"Robb," Ser Brynden said again, "you've proven yourself more than capable of leading without any help." he gestured to the others in the room, who were all nodding. "We're here to simply catch anything that falls through the cracks."
Robb looked sadly at the old knight. "Very well. You shall lead the southern realms north. Tarly and I shall rally the lords of the Crownlands and the Blackwater outside King's Landing before taking the King's Road north."
"And the northerners?" Mallister asked. "Winterfell?"
Robb shook his head. "The Wall. The Watch has gotten stronger since the war, but the men of the North can hopefully stave off any attack long enough for the rest of us to reach them."
"What of the dragons?" Tarly said, crossing his arms.
"They'll head north," Robb said immediately. "They move far quicker than we can. Jon and Lord Commander Qhorin can figure out where they'll be housed and how effective they'll be in the snow."
"Do you have any idea how we'll fight these things?" Jaime asked curiously.
"I've had a few ideas," Robb said. "The Unsullied's style, I believe, would be well suited for our men. Every castle at the Wall has a series of gates that lead under the Wall. If we could keep the enemy contained there, in the tunnel, then we could limit the cost."
"The Unsullied fight with spears and shields." Ser Brynden pointed out.
"Which is all we'll be able to make with dragonglass." Tarly countered. "Sam told me so. The material is too brittle to be used for much else besides arrowheads."
"Dragonglass?" Jaime asked. "How much do we have?"
"The stewardess of Dragonstone said that there are hundreds of barrels already prepared," Robb said. "With Lord Mallister's help, we can move much more of it north."
"I have already dispatched two dozen longships and a dozen galleys," Lord Mallister said. "I've also had a raven sent to the island promising more vessels should they be needed."
"Thank you, Lord Mallister," Robb said, nodding to the riverlord. "I think that will be all, my lords. We best prepare for the council."
Line Break
The council meeting went by without a problem. There was lots of discussion about how the crown intended to pay for such a large force, which Tyrion and Margaery ended by promising to help pay for any expense. There were also discussions about where there could be more deposits of dragonglass. Sam promised to look into the matter, but the only place he knew at the moment was Dragonstone.
There was a brief conversation about how Robb intended to fight the Others and the undead. Tarly had pointed out the same problem Jon had. Knights would never allow themselves to fight shoulder to shoulder with those they deemed lower than themselves, wielding 'peasant' weapons. Robb had simply shrugged and replied that he would resolve the issue when the time came. Sam had also chimed in by adding that spears, daggers, and bows had been how the First Men had defeated the Others centuries ago.
After the meeting, Robb made his way to the godswood, where the Green Man was once again kneeling before the Heart Tree.
"Have you come to threaten me again, your grace?" he asked as Robb approached.
"Not this time," Robb replied, taking a seat on a nearby stone bench. "I have come to ask you a question."
Highsmith rose to his feet and turned around so that he was facing the young king. He nodded to Robb.
"Go on."
"Is this all worth it?" Robb asked bluntly.
Highsmith raised an eyebrow. "Is what all worth it?"
Robb frowned. "I've traveled to the Wall and back. I've faced down a small army of fanatics. My wife and child were almost assassinated. My poor Hand is running himself ragged…."
"I wondered if you had noticed that." the Green Man muttered.
"It's not hard to see." Robb retorted. "My uncle has traveled nearly the length of the realm carrying a wight. I need to know if it's all worth it."
"You want to know if you'll win or not." the Green Man said.
Robb hesitated before nodding. "If you have the answer, then yes."
"I don't." the Green Man said. "But if I had said no, you won't win, would you still fight?"
"Yes," Robb said without hesitation.
"Why?"
"Because I'd rather die fighting than to just give up," Robb answered. "I owe it to everyone who looks to me for protection."
The Green Man nodded and tucked his thumbs inside his belt. "Robb, you are the only king in the past thirty years who would take this threat seriously. You've seen and acknowledged the signs. You've managed to rally your entire council behind you. Half the realm is preparing for war. You've sought out answers to your questions instead of waiting for them to come to you. Even if you fail, no one can say that you didn't do everything in your power to give Westeros a fighting chance."
Robb smiled slightly. "Thank you." he said quietly. "and….I'm sorry I threatened you."
The Green Man waved aside his apology. "Think nothing of it. You care about your brother."
"I do," Robb nodded. "As does my father and my siblings."
"Your father," the Green Man mused. "I've always wanted to meet the great Eddard Stark."
"You'll certainly get your chance at the Wall," Robb said. "You told me when we first met that it's been some time since you've met another Stark. Who else have you met?"
The Green Man scratched his beard thoughtfully. "It was about twenty-odd years ago. He was an older man, with streaks of grey in his dark hair and his weathered face was practically haggard with worry."
Robb's face fell. "You met my grandfather then. Rickard Stark."
"He was riding south to save his son when he and his party stayed the night at Harrenhal. He came to me in the dead of night. He knew as well as anyone the madness that had overtaken Aerys." the Green Man said sadly. "He asked me what he should do; plead for mercy on his son's behalf or fight for the honor of their house. I told him that he would die either way."
"Did he ask anything else?"
"He asked what would happen to his family," the Green Man replied. "I told him that two would be lost in the south, victims of madness. I also told him that his quiet wolf would avenge all wrongs and that the she-wolf would spit in the face of her abusers."
Robb nodded. "He knew that my father would avenge the murders of his brother and father. But what did you mean about my aunt?"
"Who does Jon look like?"
Robb thought for a second before smiling grimly. "Jon looks like a Stark and not a Targaryen. His appearance is an insult to Rhaegar Targaryen."
"To Aerys, he would be," the Green Man nodded. "Your grandfather was a brave man, your grace. He knew that he would die, but he wanted to die fighting. It was the little hope I could give him."
"You knew what would happen, didn't you. That he would be burned alive and that my uncle would be strangled." Robb said. "You couldn't say anything about it, could you."
"I see glimpses of the future, as the gods have seen fit to allow me to watch the fate of others. But I cannot muddy the sacred waters, so to speak. I had no right to change the course of history. It was not my right." the Green Man shook his head. "Speaking to your grandfather, knowing what I did, was the hardest thing I have ever had to do."
"We all have our burdens," Robb sighed. "I hold no ill will against you. If you had told my grandfather anything, then perhaps we would not be in this position."
"No, we certainly would not."
"Is there anything I'm forgetting?" Robb asked. "You said that I've done everything in my power. Have I?"
The Green Man nodded. "Your father, you, and Jon have all done your parts and are where you are needed right now. Jon is discovering his other half, your father has settled the wildlings on the Gift, and you must simply wait for your uncle to make it here, to his final destination."
The green-cloaked guardian of the isle sat down next to Robb. "What I would recommend, Robb, is to spend time with your family. Soon, you'll be forced to march off to war. Do not leave behind any regrets."
Robb looked over his shoulder at the Red Keep before looking back at the Green Man.
"Thank you."
"Go, be with your wife and son." the Green Man urged. "Take off your crown and be Robb Stark, father, and husband, for as long as you can."
Robb didn't need to be told twice.
Bran Stark
The crow's eyes scanned over the vast forest, searching for the enemy. The icy wind did its best to deter the black bird from going further, but the crow was a resilient creature who had survived in these conditions for years. Some harsh wind and snow didn't cause too much discomfort.
After a time of seeing nothing but snow-covered treetops, the crow finally spotted what it had been searching for. Between the gaps in the forest, an unending wave of undead humans, bears, and wolves surged forth, shambling tirelessly south. The crow turned its head in that direction and was relieved to see that the Wall was still not in sight.
The bird swooped low and landed on a branch, watching as the undead ran under it. The snow mostly muted their steps, but there were so many that it was hard not to hear their movement at all. Twigs were snapped, trees were scratched, and there was a dull thunder of thousands of undead all pounding their feet against the ground at the same time.
The crow wasn't concerned about the undead. It knew that their number would be high. It wanted to know who led them, and more importantly, how many of them there were. So it continued to wait patiently, occasionally hopping from one branch to another to see if it could spot the ancient enemy. After almost an hour, its patience was rewarded.
A dozen Others rode among the horde of their making, mounted upon undead horses. They wore strange, crystal-like armor. They all resemble tall, muscular men with flesh as pale as milk. They carried swords and spears that looked to be made out of ice. Wispy white hair hung from their heads, and in their eyes, a blue fire burned coldly. For demons, they looked oddly….beautiful, elegant, and extremely beautiful.
The crow squawked and flew off, its eyes turning from pale white to black as its mind returned to normal.
As Bran shook his head, he could feel Arya's stare on him. He met her gaze, causing her to tilt her head, something she did occasionally whenever she was truly curious about something. Of course, Bran was found strange by nearly everyone in Winterfell. His mother could barely interact with him, unable to deal with the fact that he was not the boy she once knew. His father didn't seem to know how to treat him and seemed to jump from treating him like a son to treating him like some hundred-year-old wizard. Arya was truly the only one who adapted to who Bran was now. To what he was now.
"Finished staring?" Bran asked.
"What have you been doing?" Arya asked after a moment. "You spend hours out here, staring at this tree. Why?"
Bran raised an eyebrow. "I've been doing my part to make sure we win the war."
"And your part is….?" Arya prompted, deliberately dragging out the question.
Bran looked back at the tree. "In front of the Heart Tree is where I truly feel the presence of the Old Gods. This is where I can draw power from them," he explained. "Although I am physically unable to fight, I have been using what power I do have to communicate with our allies across the realm and keeping an eye on the enemy."
"How?" Arya asked.
"How do you feel after warging?" Bran asked.
"You know I sleep," Arya replied, a little taken back by the question.
"It's tiring," Bran said. "I spend hours as a crow north of the Wall, watching the enemy. I send what information I have south to King's Landing where the Green Man resides."
"You talk to him?"
"In a way." Bran nodded. "It is too difficult to explain. As a greenseer, I have….powers. With nature, and more specifically, Heart Trees. There is a connection between us that is….beyond human comprehension."
Arya nodded slowly. "So that's what you've been doing. Scouting."
Bran looked at his sister. "Yes."
Arya hesitated before asking her next question. "Old Nan once said that greenseers can look into the future. Can you?"
Bran shook his head. "I can see the past, but I can only see possible futures that change with the day. It is not set in stone."
Arya nodded again. "So you don't know if we'll win."
"No, I do not," Bran replied. "I have already told our father this, but there is nothing more we can truly do other than prepare."
Oberyn Martell
The Red Viper watched with an outward appearance of laziness as he watched his brother's fleet dock. A dozen dornish ships, all carrying dornish nobility. Oberyn leaned against the side of a warehouse, idly playing with a wicked-looking dagger. Although he looked as if he didn't care, his dark eyes continually swept the harbor, looking out for any danger. Oberyn hadn't lived a life such as his without leaving a score of enemies in his wake, and he would be damned if he let an assassin get him when he wasn't on guard.
Doran was the first off the boat, carried on a palanquin by four muscular servants. Areo Hotah, the norvashi axeman who had accompanied Doran's wife to Dorne and had stayed behind when she left, was not far behind his charge. Along the rest of the harbor, other dornish lords were disembarking, some looking a little worse for wear after a few weeks at sea.
"Brother," Oberyn said, striding towards his brother as he slipped his dagger back into its sheath.
"Oberyn," Doran said, his figure barely visible through the veils of golden and ivory silk that hid the ruler of Dorne from outside eyes. "Let us do what we are here to do and leave before we waste more of our time."
Oberyn bowed his head and grabbed his horse before taking his place by the palanquin's side as it was carried through the streets. The people of King's Landing looks confused as a parade of dornishman made their way from the harbor, but most just shrugged and went on with their day.
"The city is in much better shape than before," Doran grunted quietly from behind his veil. "The Young Wolf has not been idle."
"He's been more active as of late," Oberyn replied in the same quiet tone. "He's gone to the Wall, Dragonstone, and the Isle of Faces in the past year alone."
"Quite the adventurer," Doran mused. "Have you learned why?"
"I have been kept in the dark. Not even my extra eyes have learned anything," Oberyn scowled. "I have been tempted to reach out to Varys."
"The Spider may know, but who knows how fresh his songs are," Doran replied. "You mentioned a Green Man in one of your earlier letters. Has Stark conjured up a trick to fight against the Faith Militant?"
Oberyn shook his head. "My eyes may not hear much, but they have seen more. The green man who has taken up residency in the godswood is not a false green man, but the Green Man. The supposed leader of their order."
"I thought they didn't leave their island?"
"It seems they have now," Oberyn said. "Neither Stark nor the Imp will say anything. Their council meetings are sealed shut. I have grown more frustrated by the day."
"We will give Stark the benefit of the doubt," Doran advised. "Whatever he is hiding, he will reveal it soon. Why else would his uncle summon the lords of three realms to King's Landing?"
"His Hand said the same," Oberyn said. "He said that it was important for all to see what Ben Stark had."
"I have heard a rumor about Dragonstone," Doran said, changing the subject. "Dragons have been seen flying over the island."
"What is so important about that?" Oberyn asked curiously. The younger prince was still stunned that Stark had allowed his former enemy and her strongest weapons to live so close to his city, but then again, there was the phrase 'keep your friends close and your enemies closer' for a reason.
"The merchant ship who passed us said that he saw two riders, not one," Doran said. "Do know what this could mean, brother?"
Oberyn's lip curled. "Rhaegar had a child with the Stark girl."
"It has to be," Doran said, his voice like iron. "We must remain vigilant brother. Stark may be revealing one of his secrets soon, but it's obvious that he and Daenerys have their own. We must learn who this unknown dragon rider is. Their life is a stain on our House and Elia's memory."
"I will see what I can do, brother," Oberyn swore. "What shall I do when I find this mystery rider?"
"Discover who hid them for so long," Doran said, "then remind them why you are named the Red Viper."