"Still I maintain, there is only one person that is sitting before me. This one person is indeed the one who has a lot of friends, dragons, and a direwolf but he also has a big destiny to live up to because of who his ancestors were." Sam looked at Jon willing him to believe what he was about to say.
"In my opinion, as much as you think you have embraced your heritage, you still haven't done so completely. And all the aspects of your parentage that you are okay with, you connect to fortunate Jon and all the things you are afraid you will not be able to accomplish you attach to poor King Aegon Sixth of his Name." Sam paused a moment because he had forgotten to breathe being focussed too much on convincing his friend. After taking a few deep breaths he was ready to give his advice.
"Forget the name bit and think about your goal. As far as I can see, you were magnificent as Aegon, the Prince of Dragonstone the moment you set foot on this island and I assure you, not a single soul thinks you come up short. I have written down that speech you gave, so thousands of years from now, people will still be able to read about that brilliant young man of only seventeen namedays that was cornered into giving a speech without being prepared for it and came up with the right thing to say on the spur of the moment. I will add the entire context when I write the book. "
Seeing Jon's raised eyebrow he continued his attempt to boost Jon's confidence up to a kingly level.
"Then I see before me this intelligent young man that just led a meeting as complicated as meetings will ever get in the Seven Kingdoms. A youth that kept his cool, came up with creative ideas and holds his own in a group of men with twice, almost three times as many namedays as him. You said you missed Davos Seaworth, but I think even he couldn't have handled that meeting any better than you did. Just think back to the resolve with which you handled Yara Greyjoy's demand and the sheer tactics of your solution. Davos would be proud of you. Hells, we are all proud of you."
"Stop it, Sam. I am not that perfect guy you make me out to be. I make mistakes, just as everyone else. The trouble is that my mistakes might have bigger consequences. I have messed up at Castle Black. I have messed up with Princess Daenerys. How can I ever become this perfect King Aegon?" Jon sighed in exasperation and raked his hand over his face.
"No King is perfect, Aegon. You do your best and learn from your mistakes. You ask for help when you need it. No King has ever ruled alone. No King has ever ruled without making errors in judgement either. If you do not believe me, you should read the book again about your much praised ancestor King Jaehaerys I. Although he was a wise King he made a few lapses in judgement as well. Nobody is perfect, Aegon." Sam tried his best to reason with his friend.
"I certainly must be learning a lot then judging by the number of mistakes I make. And even though the incident at Castle Black in the end will prove to be a minor one, I still learned from it that I need to work harder not to let my feelings control my temper."
"What happened at Castle Black, Jon? Do you want to tell me?" Sam reverted to the familiar appellation appealing to his friend now and not to his future sovereign.
"Short version: Blinded by my disgust for the man I almost revealed too much to Jaime Lannister. But that is a story for another time. Perhaps when your hand isn't cramping?"
Sam blinked, taken aback.
"I am not blind, Sam. I noticed. I am sure you will want your hand in good working order when I tell you what drove a young Kingsguard to stab the King he had vowed to protect in the back." Jon revealed a bit of the contents and relished to see the shock on Sam's face increase.
"He told you?" Was all Sam got out.
"He did." Jon resolved to save the story for another time. He needed to tackle another subjects with Sam tonight.
"Then I will hold you to that. Promise me not to leave Dragonstone before you do though. These days you are always flying off to somewhere. I am sure Davos is frustrated as hell. His last missive was rather eloquent." Sam pleaded.
"I'll try not to. But I wanted to talk about you tonight. You make it rather difficult for a man to do that, you know? You are always full of questions and wise advice. Now it is my turn. What are your plans, Sam? And with that I mean what would you really want to do? Set aside all the things we have ever spoken about or wishes I might have uttered. Just here and now, just between us two good friends, knowing what you know now and having experienced all you have these last few moons, what would Samwell Tarly want to do? What do you want to accomplish in your life? What are your most fervent ambitions?"
"You do not want me to go to the Citadel and become a Maester any longer?" Sam looked out of his depth now.
"That was not the question, Sam. Do YOU want to go to the Citadel to become a Maester?" Jon tried once more.
"I might, uh I think so, but perhaps not, uh perhaps not right away? I know you say I should do what I want and not think about you but that is impossible. You see, what I want most to do for myself is to help you. Like how I helped you by searching for dragonglass or of thinking of ways with Gendry to make it stronger. How we write all these letters together. I thrive on how you seem to welcome my advice. With you I feel I can make a difference. If you change the course of history, I'd like to think that may I played a little part in that. You listen to me an make it feel as if I have a purpose, as if I am perhaps uh somehow uh important as well?"
Sam looked at Jon a devoted expression in his eyes. When Jon stayed silent waiting for Sam to be more concrete he added talking quickly, "I am certain that leaving now for the Citadel is not the best way to help you. The coming moons you will need all the help you can get. You do see the historical importance of what we are about to do, don't you? These are important times. I can always go the Citadel later." Checking Jon's reaction and seeing his friend was hanging onto every word he found the courage to elaborate even further.
"The only thing that is making me doubt is that in not going I will miss out on a few resources, books I mean, that contain knowledge that can probably only be found in the Citadel. But when I think of going there now, I hesitate. First of all a novice will not have access to the more advanced topics that I will want to research. Second, if I leave now for the Citadel, you will not see me for moons on end. I know a Maester's training is rather restrictive, certainly at first. I used to talk a lot to the Maester at Horn Hill about this when I was younger. He told me his first ten moons as a novice were an utter waste of his time and energy. It got slightly better after he forged his first link and became an acolyte but even then it only got significantly better after he had forged almost half of his links."
Suddenly aware he had been conducting a rather long monologue he apologized. "I'm sorry. I have been rambling, haven't I. Did you find the answer to your question somewhere in there?"
"I did, Sam. You still want to become a Maester but prefer not to leave me before things are settled at the Wall and in the Seven Kingdoms. I appreciate that you want to stay by my side and I love you for it. I also understand we need to find a way to give you access to the Citadel's library one way or another and perhaps even find a means, some loophole that permits you to forge your first links almost immediately when you do leave for the Citadel. If you study up on a few of the simpler specialties, with your extraordinary memory, you should pass their tests with flying colours. If you wait till I am this famous King Aegon Sixth of his Name, perhaps I can use my royal influence to speed up the date of your tests." Jon's voice got more enthusiastic as possible solutions popped up in his mind.
"I didn't tell you all this to get royal privileges, Jon." Sam had gotten nervous when he heard the lengths his friend was willing to go to, to help him.
"I know you didn't, Sam. That doesn't mean I cannot reward loyalty of my own free will. Besides, I am going to instigate some revolutionary reforms. Perhaps I can influence the Archmaesters at the Citadel to change some of their old ways as well? If I give them enough hints and incentives - there must be something they need, or something we can help them with - they will perhaps modernise their educational system a bit?" A thought struck him.
"Have the books here at Dragonstone provided you with new information? I recall Gendry mentioning the idea of performing some tests with dragonfire? Will you need Gendry here for the practical side of your research?"
"Ideally, yes. But I have given him a list of fake words to replace real ones so we can write each other about ideas and hopefully also about the progress we make. I reckoned a version of the code you use is too complicated. Gendry only recently learned to write."
"Fake words, now you are making me curious. Tell me?" Jon was always a stickler for puzzles and riddles.
"For example we use the word soup instead of fire and when Gendry writes 'the soup needs to be colder' well I should perhaps mention the adjectives are antonyms." Sam explained.
"Antonyms, Sam?"
"Opposites. Colder means hotter, you see. That way we can write each other and no one who reads our message will figure out that we are trying to unravel the secret of Valyrian Steel, or want to make dragonglass weapons stronger than ever before."
"And what are your theories, Sam?
"I have several. Your words are 'Fire and Blood'. I think that might have something to do with it. Dragonfire burns hotter, that is a given. Blood, uh well perhaps steel was mixed with blood of a dragon or of a person who is called a dragon, uh a Targaryen, like you? Or perhaps and I sincerely hope that this is the case, they mean dragonglass which when melted also looks a bit like thick dark blood. As soon as Gendry has finished forging most of the weapons from the dragonglass, we will start with simple tests to see if uh ordinary steel and dragonglass can be mixed together when melted down. Gendry wanted to try with a small amount of dragonglass, you see, nine parts steel for one part of dragonglass. If these materials don't mix well when heated with uh ordinary fire, I mean…"
"You will want to try with dragonfire? I am curious to see if your ideas might work. I hope you won't need dragonblood from Rhaegal nor Viserion and certainly not my blood." Jon voiced his concerns. "I am curious though. What are your code words for dragonglass and regular steel?"
Uh, dragonglass are vegetables and the steel is the meat."
"So the cold soup needs more meat and fewer vegetables would be a message you might send to Gendry? Sam, have I already told you that you are a genius today?" Jon never ceased to be amazed by the creative ideas Sam sometimes cooked up.
"Uh, perhaps?" Sam stammered.
"You will need to work on your delivery. You are so smart, yet you speak so hesitatingly. You do not have to become as arrogant as Prince Oberyn but you could put a bit more confidence in your speech, in your tone of voice. It will help persuade the Archmaesters at the Citadel that you know what you are about." Jon advised.
"I realise I need to work on that, Jon. But uh, you see, I am who I am, and building confidence takes time. My father made sure to kill every bit of confidence I was born with." Sam defended himself.
"Then we will cultivate it. Do not underestimate your worth, Sam. Not only do you have an exceptional memory, you have a logical way of thinking and can come up with solutions long before any of us have made all the connections needed to get there. Our accidental meeting must have been orchestrated by the Gods. Fortunate happenstances like these help me believe that the Gods approve and we are doing the right thing. They prevent me from feeling guilty for going through with my ambition of claiming the throne."
He studied his friend a while before addressing a concern he had ever since he had noticed Sam recording his words. "Now I have one last question for you, Sam. Every time I lay my eyes on you here on Dragonstone, you have been scribbling like … well like nothing I can think to compare it with. I have never seen anyone write so fast nor so frequently. What are you planning to do with all these notes?"
"Well I thought to write the history of the reign of King Aegon VI. And like every tale, people want to know where their hero came from. Your story does not start the day of your coronation. It started more than seventeen years ago. It will be a riveting story starting with the tragic love affair of your parents. I have been working on it for a long time already. It will be a uh masterpiece if I say so myself. Anyway, if you are willing, I will be asking a lot of questions over the next few years." Sam was quick to take advantage of Jon's willingness to discuss this topic.
"Will I have a say in its content? Like erase some idiotic things I said about Robb Stark or other stuff." Jon kept his tone light but he needed the question answered.
"Not if it distorts the truth too much. We are not writing a fairy tale that tells only the good things. It should be an accurate account of your reign, a history book. Minor details of your personal life here and there are allowed to be, uh, forgotten, shall we say?" Sam watched for Jon's reaction closely.
"Well glad to hear that you will not be reporting the stupid fight I had with Dany this afternoon." Jon responded with a wry smile.
"Do you want to tell me about it? I promise not to write it down. Oh, Jon, please do not think I will write down what you tell me in confidence. I will not. The book will only tell facts of your reign. I see now why you wanted to have a say in the content. I am sorry, I didn't understand and made light of it. I am so sorry, Jon, uh my Prince, uh …"
"Relax Sam. Let us make a pact here and now. You write your book the way you think it should be written. Of course you will respect my privacy when not relevant to the main story of my reign. You promise me on your honour that you will keep everything you write confidential, keep it under lock and key. I will be the first one to read it and we will discuss the paragraphs I am not comfortable with. Nobody will see or know about this book or its content until I give permission to release it." Jon told him with an authority that left no room for interpretation.
"You promise you will discuss uh different opinions with an open mind and not just say I have to adhere to your wishes because you are the King?" Sam shifted a bit in his seat.
"I'll try, Sam. I promise I'll try. But it is my life you are writing about. My life laid out for everyone to read. Just imagine someone wrote the story of your life, starting with the struggle with your father. Imagine the author wrote it from the perspective of your father, colouring events so you looked ridiculous. Would you not want to have a means to change the content slightly before the entire word was allowed to read a version of your life that makes you want to avoid every single person who read it because you are ashamed of how they will look at you now?"
"I am sorry, Jon. I see now I have been overstepping big time. I obviously got carried away thinking I could become this famous historian whose book people would still be reading thousands of years after I died because your story is so captivating that I forgot it is not my story to tell. It is yours. I am so sorry."
"It is okay, Sam, really. We will find a safe place where we can hide your manuscript and we will discuss the content at length before a single word gets out to the realm. I am sure we will find a balance somehow and produce a version of my history that we both find acceptable. I promise you that I will not ask another man, or woman for that matter, to write my story. If a book about my life is published with my accreditation, it will be written by Samwell Tarly a reliable source since he lived his entire life in close proximity to the King he wrote about truthfully and without embellishment." Jon was coming around to the fact that someone would write his history. There were books on every King that had ever ruled. Perhaps letting Sam write the tale of his reign was his best option. Still, they would have to find a balance.
"And I promise to stay neutral and not let myself get carried away so I do not blow things out of proportion to make the book more captivating." Sam promised.
"Now do you want to tell your friend, and not the famous historian what happened between you and Princess Daenerys this afternoon? Will you tell me why you feel like you've made a mistake?"
"Now who is thinking of himself as two different persons? Sam, the friend or Sam, the historian?"
"Jon, that is entirely different and you know it. I just meant you need not fear that I will write down what you tell me of this personal struggle. You are only prolonging the inevitable. If you do not want to tell me, just say so." Sam tried once more to get his friend to talk about his issue with Princess Daenerys that was clearly weighing him down.
"I am still not clear myself what really happened. Just picture it, one minute we are talking in a friendly manner, the next I am scolding her for not telling me about the politically important offer that the Tyrells have presented to her more than two moons ago. Next she asks me to my face why I do not consider marrying her and to top it all off she accuses me, ME of all people of not giving women chances to do something with their lives other than bearing children for husbands that are forced upon them!"
"Calm down, Jon. You are shouting. Now let's break this down. The Tyrells made her an offer. I gather you mean an offer for a betrothal. Did she reply to them without consulting you?"
"No, she didn't. She said it was an open offer and that the ball was in her court." Jon admitted.
"So no political harm done?" Sam glanced over at Jon to better understand his reaction.
"I didn't know that when I uttered my first accusations." Jon defended himself a bit deflated.
"All right, did she tell you why she concealed it from you?" Sam dug a bit deeper.
"She was afraid I would jump on the opportunity to forge an alliance with the Reach and would marry her off without a single consideration for her wellbeing." Jon's defiant attitude had no effect on Sam. His friend stayed calm when he replied.
"Well as head of House Targaryen you have the authority to marry her off without her consent but she should know you better than that. Keep in mind we are dealing with a woman in love. I heard they don't always think rational when a suitor is involved. Tell me, what did you reply when she spoke of a marriage between the two of you?" Sam gave Jon a look that that warned him denying the fact that Daenerys had a tendre for him was useless.
"I explained to her that we had to be realistic and that the situation was such that it was not out of the question that one of us or even both of us would have to marry for political reasons. But that nothing had been decided yet and it could still all work out. I promised her that I would always consider her well-being and that I would talk to her before a final agreement was made on her behalf."
"That is a sensible reply. I still do not see how that could lead to her accusations? Anyone who spends a few days with you knows you would never treat women unfairly, let alone your own female kin."
"She asked for a future position on the small council and before I could even react she got all defensive and asked whether I was a man who though women were just incubators. I might have overreacted a bit." Jon acknowledged.
"You think?" Sam arched one eyebrow.
"Well my nerves were on edge what with the scare about possibly insulted Tyrells and her coming on to me so strong as to ask me straight out to marry me. I was no longer calm when she accused me of discriminating against women. Not to mention I have been under a lot of stress lately. Give me a break, Sam?" Jon pleaded.
"It is not me that should give you a break. You are feeling guilty all by yourself. I am just taking you through the different phases of your conversation to help you figure out where it went wrong." Sam stayed calm. "I am the first to admit that I am not an expert when it comes to men and women trying to uh, trying to … communicate together. I can only analyse your conversation. And if it will help you, I can tell you that in my honest opinion, I mean, in as far as I can tell by this one sided account, she overreacted as well."
"Thank you. I know I behaved like a moron. I am glad I am not the only one who believes she was a bit of one herself. But that knowledge doesn't help me decide how to go forward from here." He muttered miserably. "
"It will, Jon, you just have to decide what you want to happen first. Now tell me, how did you part? Will she still speak to you when she passes you in the hallway and will you still be able to share a meal together? Knowing something of your disposition and diplomatic skills, you must at least have tried to get her to understand your point of view."
"That is a funny story actually. But to skip right to the end, I did manage to broker a truce. Eventually we both agreed to take a step back and think about all that was said. We agreed to meet again tomorrow afternoon. I promised to take her with me on Rhaegal's back for a short ride." Jon calmed down a bit when images of flying high up in the air with Dany sitting close to him on Rhaegal's back flitted through his mind. He forced himself to focus his attention back on Sam when his friend coughed discreetly.
"Just to be clear, you do not want to marry her?" Sam didn't hesitate to go straight to the heart of the matter. The dreamy expression on Jon's face had only confirmed what he had been suspecting all along.
"I can't marry her." Again Jon got agitated and the way he spoke these words was very revealing.
"Would you marry her if you could?" Sam tried to goad him into voicing his wishes out loud.
"It doesn't matter either way, Sam. I can't." This time it was Jon who fidgeted nervously in his chair.
Sam knew he was finally reaching the core of the problem. "Because of politics? Let me play the imagine game you played with me before. Imagine you are this benevolent King Aegon the Sixth of his Name, King of the Seven Kingdoms, Protector of the Realm, the Dragonrider, friend of the Free Folk and so on, and so on. The realm is peaceful, everyone is happy. You are still unmarried, she is still single. Would you marry her?"
"I do not know." Jon confessed after a long pause.
Sam looked baffled when he saw Jon's hunched shoulders. "Don't you love her?" He tried once more to understand what was holding his friend back.
"She is my aunt." Jon's matter of fact reply gave Sam his first clue.
"Do you love her as more than an aunt?" Wrestling information from Jon about this topic required all his patience and skills.
"What if I do? She is my kin. My grandfather who happens to be her father was raving mad. I can't risk bringing children into the realm that could potentially destroy this better world we are creating. Not to mention the dilemma of a parent who cares for a child that is a danger to society."
"Would you marry her if you knew beforehand that your children would be healthy?" Sam was relentless.
"Sam, you are killing me here." Jon looked like a petulant child now.
"Would you like some advice or not?" Sam's reply was simple, his bait irresistible.
"Do you have some?" Jon looked up now, hesitant to get his hopes up.
"I think I do, yes." His friend's earnest eyes convinced Jon to hear him out.
"Then I'd love to hear your advice, Sam, anything to help me make sense of these painful feelings. I can't begin to describe how confused I am about this whole business." Jon sat up straighter.
"Well, where do I start? In my humble opinion and to repeat some of your own advice I heard you give others, you should be as truthful as possible with her. You explain to her calm and rationally why you are not free to marry her yet even if you love her. Which you do not have to admit to me if you do," he added hastily.
"Hypothetically speaking, if you really love her and you somehow manage with the help of your genius adviser sitting right here before you and perhaps with some help of other advisers as well, to successfully complete all of your goals, and you both still happen to be single, then you can talk with her about a possible marriage between you to again.
In the meantime, you ask that famed greenseer of yours that so clearly saw how to resolve the situation at the Vale if he can try to look into your future. Chances are that the magic in your Stark blood is strong enough to give you several beautiful healthy children. Once that obstacle is out of the way, well I will leave you to think of the last steps yourself." Sam managed to look a little smug.
Jon considered these words. A fragment of his dream with the three children playing with the black egg crossed his mind. There had been two silverhaired ones, clearly resembling Daenerys or someone else with Valyrian features and one with black curly hair. He had hoped it was a greendream when he woke up with the happy feeling from his dream still lingering in his mind.
He paled when he remembered his uncle Aemon's explanation about the greendreams he could invoke himself under certain circumstances to look at the future of House Targaryen. He startled when a hand touched his arm.
"Jon! Jon, come back to me. Oh, there you are again. You turned pale and your eyes glazed over. I was getting worried. What happened?"
"I just remembered a dream I had. Sam, your words, they gave me hope and new ideas I have to study some more. Thanks. You are wise beyond your years. I hope to have you at my side, always. Together we will frustrate our enemies to no end."
"You have done much for me as well, Jon, from the very first moment we met when you were simple Jon Celtigar." His tone was slightly teasing but pale earnest eyes look into Jon's. "I am glad I can do something for you in return for once."
"You have already paid me back twice over, Sam. I am very lucky to count you as my friend. If ever you need a favour from me. Do not hesitate. Just ask." Jon promised.
"Well, as a matter of fact," Sam started though his cheeky smile reassured his friend he was just asking for a minor thing, "I am really tired and would want to retire now. Perhaps his Grace would give me permission ..."
"Go to bed, Sam," Jon interrupted. "I will make sure we will find plenty of time to see each other over the coming days. Oh before you leave, I hope you realise that you have officially been named a member of my small council and I expect you to be present at every meeting when you are able?"
"With or without Daenerys present?" Sam couldn't help but tease his friend. He had gotten up and was walking to the door.
Jon chuckled and answered in the same teasing manner. "Depends on how well-mannered she is tomorrow afternoon."
He was pleased to see Sam's smile widen into a grin before his friend shut the door behind him.
Interlude21: A trap
Robb was tired, tired of juggling the responsibilities of being Lord of Winterfell, tired of keeping the peace between his siblings, tired of fighting with them over the issue of the direwolves mingling with their guests, tired of entertaining said guests and his friend Edric, tired of living up to the strict moral standards of his mother which was difficult at the best of times but Nymeria Sand was pushing his resolve to his very limits.
It didn't help that even though he performed his mental exercises with Greywind almost every day, he had not been able to develop their bond much beyond wolf dreams and sensing his direwolf's feelings when he touched him. And now other guests had arrived and it had become clear that Bran, not Robb was a prodigy, a powerful warg in the making and was singled out by Lord Reed. Suddenly Bran was the focal point of everyone's attention and nobody minded the fact that Robb was working hard to keep everything running smoothly at Winterfell, in the entire North and was keeping even more guests happy.
Granted Lord Reed had stayed only for a few days and had been a quiet unobtrusive guest that had offered him some decent advice at times. The man had left after a short stay, taking his brother Bran with him. He also had to admit that Lady Brienne and Loras Tyrell were a godsend, providing support any way they could. Edric had become a good friend but was more a distraction than a helping hand.
Entertaining Prince Oberyn had been a challenge. The Dornish Prince had a knack for stirring up trouble. He had started off by insulting the Lady Brienne, humiliated Edric Dayne, Theon Greyjoy and even Robb himself by knocking them to the ground with his long spear before they could get two strikes in and instead of helping them, the Prince had made fun of them and called them sluggish. When they protested blaming the element of surprise and their lack of experience in fighting an opponent wielding a longspear, Prince Oberyn had not hesitated with his answer.
"On the battlefield," he had stated adopting a serious mien for a change, "if an opponent comes at you with a weapon you are not familiar with, you don't get the chance to complain that it isn't fair since they did not teach you the right techniques yet to counter him. You would be dead before you uttered your first syllable."
Nobody could object to this wise piece of advice but the Prince's arrogant smirk hadn't helped their dented pride. Then the vexing man had taunted them even further by stating that twelve year old Jon Celtigar had shown more promise at his tender age than they did now as grownups. "That boy defeated me recently, the first one to do so in a long time." He had added fuel to the fire.
The only good thing Prince Oberyn's visit had brought about was the sudden departure of Roose Bolton. Robb wasn't sure what had happened exactly between the two men. One evening he had seen them drinking together. The next morning, Roose Bolton had left before dawn leaving only a note with some vague excuse of being needed at the Dreadfort. Immensely relieved to be rid of Lord Bolton's spine-chilling stare, Robb had made an effort to tolerate Prince Oberyn and his high maintenance daughter. He had found an unexpected ally in his little sister, Arya. Somehow she had charmed Prince Oberyn into giving her some lessons and for some unfathomable reason the Dornish Prince had taken a liking to her. Well the man had raised or was still raising seven or eight spirited daughters. Perhaps Arya's fighting spirit was the norm in his household.
Often his youngest sister could be seen dancing around the courtyard with a long spear to perfect the moves Prince Oberyn had taught her during morning sparring sessions. Robb had seen Arya cross spears with Nymeria Sand. But what had really amazed him was that an incredibly patient Prince Oberyn stood at the side-lines and behaved himself well and long enough to encourage his youngest sister and teach her several new tricks.
One time he had caught the two of them deep in conversation and had stayed out of sight but still within hearing range. Robb had been amused by Prince Oberyn's attempts to answer a barrage of questions from Arya. His sister had not relented before the Prince had told her exactly when, where and how Jon Celtigar had defeated him recently. The Prince had literally squirmed and had needed to use all his ingenuity to allay the suspicions of his twelve year old sister without revealing that Jon sometimes flew on a dragon across the Seven Kingdom to explain his whereabouts. When she heard he was headed for the Wall where he would most certainly meet Jon Celtigar again she had asked him to give her greetings to Jon and all his friends and not to forget a single one.
***
Almost a moon after Prince Oberyn and his daughter left Winterfell to visit the Wall
Robb heard Sansa call for Lady beneath the window of the solar. This incited Robb to ponder the problem of the budding romance between his friend Edric Dayne and his sister Sansa. These last few days both of them had wandered around Winterfell with gloomy faces and hardly spoke to anybody, not even each other. A few sennights after Robb's advice to write to Jon, Edric had closed up and no longer confided in Robb. His friend was even preparing to leave.
Sansa had been more forthcoming. She had told Robb her mother had taken away all their hopes and the powerful friend Edric had expected support from in some way or other had not taken the trouble to send a response to Edric's plea.
"It is hopeless," she had told her brother in the black and white way of a young girl. "Mother has given instructions to have me chaperoned every instant of the day. Not that is matters since Lord Edric avoids my company anyway. Only fourteen namedays old and my life is basically over. I will marry some awful stranger and will be unhappy for the rest of my life."
When Robb had tried to argue that mother didn't decide these things and that father was a very reasonable person and loved her very much, she countered by saying that her mother had been adamant. Father would most likely marry her off to the son of a lord Paramount. He had already received several offers and was just biding his time. Although no names had been mentioned, she guessed the most likely candidates were Lord Willas of House Tyrell and Lord Robin of House Arryn. Robb had not been able to contradict this without checking this with his father first and had just offered some weak statement that as long as no betrothal had been arranged, not all was lost.
And now on this bright and sunny day when his siblings were all outside, he sat at his father's desk, in his father's solar handling problems his father would be able to deal with ten times as fast as he could. Maester Luwin had a fever and Robb needed to handle the petitions of the Lords of the North on his own or with the help of his mother which he preferred not to ask for since her views were not always tempered by reason. Too often her judgement was limited to things being very right or extremely wrong. His mother clearly had trouble with the word compromise. He sighed. He was on his own. Even Greywind was off somewhere enjoying himself outdoors with his siblings. At times like these, he envied Jon. His cousin had plenty of advisers to turn to, not to mention Jon could literally fly to King's Landing if he needed to talk to Robb's father or guide a message safely there himself if he was to believe what his cousin wrote about warging into birds. Perhaps he should ask for the dragonrider's assistance?
He ignored that farfetched idea for the time being and reviewed the issues in front of him. The Greatjon complained of Wildling raids, Lady Mormont asked to reduce her taxes in exchange for taking care of Cersei Lannister and Lord Glover argued that the price they received for their lumber was too low. Then there was the issue with Ramsay Snow. Apparently the solution his father had tried had not been decisive enough. The visit of his bannermen to the Dreadfort had not produced any results. Neither Roose, nor Domeric Bolton nor Ramsay Snow had been present to receive them. His father's bannermen had written to Winterfell suggesting Robb talk to Roose Bolton himself since the man had not yet left after the royal visit. Robb sighed again. As if he hadn't already tried that a few times. Each time Lord Bolton had toyed with him and had expertly avoided the subject.
He looked with dismay at the most recent missive from Domeric Bolton. The young Lord would not disclose his location since he was currently hiding from his father and more importantly from his bastard brother. He mentioned he had survived several attempts on his life and was one hundred per cent sure it was his closest kin that was plotting to get rid of him. He also accused his half-brother of staging attacks on the most Northern settlements with a small group, posing as Wildlings while committing atrocities. With his father in King's Landing, the only action Robb could come up with for now was to send his suspicions to Lord Umber who was in charge of the area and to Jeor Mormont at the Wall. He planned to write an extensive letter to his father to ask for advice on several issues. Even if he would not trouble him with the long list of smaller unresolved problems that the smallfolk and the servants brought to his attention, it would be a long missive that should be sent by trusted messenger instead of by raven. The issue of the Boltons on the other hand, he would send to the Red Keep using their fastest raven.
He was about to summon a servant to enquire after the health of Maester Luwin when a loud knock interrupted his musings. He prayed to the Gods that whoever stood at the door of the solar would not be the bearer of yet another annoying problem.
It was Theon Greyjoy who entered and tried to guilt trip Robb into spending an evening with him. Theon did not accept Robb's excuse of being tired and argued Robb had neglected him these last few sennights. Robb still managed to delay their outing with a few days and agreed to accompany him to Wintertown later that sennight.
***
Things got better a few days later when his Uncle Benjen showed up and offered to help him deal with the issues that he was currently stuck with. His uncle made Robb realise that he went about it the wrong way focussing too much on the problem and on not wanting to displease the Lords of the North. His uncle's method of focussing on the solution resulted in simple, be it a bit unorthodox ways to compromise. For example, Robb had been close to giving in to House Mormont and cut the taxes they owed their Liege Lord in half. Uncle Benjen told him that would create a dangerous precedent and would give the other bannermen the notion that they were paying too many taxes, which was a delicate issue at the best of times. He suggested Robb write Bear Island and order them to pay the regular taxes to House Stark immediately but that in turn House Stark would provide them with a stipend to pay for the upkeep of Cersei Lannister. Do not let them pay the balance. The accounting books must record that the entire sum of the taxes were received. The allowance will be entered on another page under a different heading. Robb saw his unresolved issues disappear one by one. Soon his desk was almost empty. Maester Luwin could put all the scrolls containing the issues that had been resolved in his archives and Robb only needed to tackle the new scrolls that arrived.
Uncle Benjen also persuaded Edric not to leave for the Wall before he arranged a suitable escort for the young Lord. His uncle personally arranged a caravan with supplies from the Southern regions to depart for Eastwatch, where Edric could meet up with Jon's entourage and hopefully Jon soon. Edric would stay a few more days before finally saying goodbye to House Stark and Winterfell.
Things had definitely gotten better for Robb. He started to have more free time and was able to enjoy himself more when he took a break. So when Theon Greyjoy reminded him of his promise to spend an evening in Wintertown together, Robb really looked forward to the outing.
During their short journey on horseback, Theon sang the praises of a new whore, one that Robb was sure to like very much. At the brothel Theon wasted no time and immediately led Robb to a private room at the back of the establishment. Robb followed eagerly and even cut in front of Theon to be the first one to set foot in the small room. To Robb's surprise, it was not a beautiful whore that waited for him there. The heir of Winterfell looked straight into the mocking eyes of Ramsay Snow.