The wind howled over the high walls of Winterfell, carrying with it the scent of snow and smoke. Inside the Great Hall, the air was thick with voices—angry, impatient, loud. Every northern lord had gathered beneath the banners of House Stark, and their tempers burned hotter than the hearth fire at the hall's center.
Robb Stark sat at the head of the table, his hand clenched around the direwolf-carved armrest of his chair—his father's seat, to be exact. But in his father's absence, Robb was the lord of Winterfell.
His blue eyes darted from one lord to another as the shouting grew louder. For the first time, he felt that the North could indeed be a bit too wild at times. At moments like this, he wished the lords had a touch more calm and reason.
"Those Lannisters have insulted the North!" bellowed Lord Karstark. "They have Ned, captive like a common thief!"
"Then we march to war!" shouted Greatjon Umber, slamming his fist onto the table. "We'll bring back Lord Stark or burn their golden lions to ash!"
Robb raised a hand to calm them, but the voices only grew louder. Every man wanted his say, but none wished to listen. Robb wondered how his father had ever managed them all.
Catelyn Stark stood beside her son, her face pale but steady. She had tried to maintain composure since his return, but grief lingered in her eyes. Bran's departure had already taken a toll, and now this news from the North weighed heavily upon her.
The news of Ned's capture had already shaken the North. Though she stood tall, every word about her husband was a dagger to her chest.
Then, through the roaring voices, a new sound came. Hastily, a servant rushed inside the hall, holding a letter in his hand.
A hush fell over the room. Robb stepped forward, taking the letter and looking over the hall before opening it, gaining the silence he needed.
"It bears Lord Hoster Tully's seal," Catelyn said softly. Her hands trembled as she broke the wax and unfolded the parchment. Being a daughter of the man, she knew the sigil well.
Her eyes scanned the letter. At first, her lips parted, then she drew in a sharp breath. The parchment slipped slightly from her fingers.
"What is it, Mother?" Robb asked quickly, stepping closer.
Catelyn looked up, tears glinting in her eyes—but this time, not of grief. "It's… it's from my father, from Riverrun," her voice wavered. "He says that Sansa and Arya… they're alive. They've reached the Riverlands."
For a heartbeat, the hall was silent. Then voices burst like thunder again.
"The old gods have been good to the Starks, my lady!" shouted one lord. "Who saved them?" asked another. "Are they well?"
Catelyn read further, her voice steadying as she continued. "They escaped King's Landing with a man named Thor. My father writes that they are unharmed and will soon be sent north under this man's protection."
"Thor?" repeated Lord Umber, frowning. "Never heard of him."
Catelyn shook her head. "He's a man Ned hired to look after the girls. He's from the Night's Watch… perhaps. I'm not certain." She spoke hesitantly, though she knew the man had gained the king's attention for defeating the Hound in training grounds. Beyond that, she did not know much.
"But my father speaks well of him," she added. "That is what ultimately matters."
Robb exhaled deeply, pressing a hand to his chest as if to steady his heart. "They're alive… that's all that matters," he whispered. "By the old gods, at least not everything is lost."
But relief quickly gave way to worry. "What of my father?" he asked, his voice low and tense. "Does Grandfather mention him?"
Catelyn's expression darkened. She looked back at the letter and shook her head. "No… there is no mention of Ned. The only people who would know are the girls or this man named Thor."
The hall fell quiet again.
Robb turned away, jaw tightening. "Then we march south still. We'll bring them home."
But Catelyn placed a gentle hand on his arm. "Robb, listen. My father says Thor and the girls are already on their way here. If they are traveling north, we must wait for them."
"We can't wait," Robb argued. "Every moment we sit here, Father suffers in their dungeons. As soon as we have the girls back in Winterfell, the sooner we can march south and free him from the Lannisters' captivity."
"But if you march now, you risk more than just your father," Catelyn said firmly. "The Riverlands are already burning. Lord Hoster Tully didn't mention it, but it is clear from Lord Tywin sending men to capture Harrenhal. The Lannisters are moving their forces. A smaller, well-timed action will draw their attention faster. Trust your grandfather; if he says the girls will reach Winterfell safely, he will ensure it.
"Not to mention, you must remain here. You cannot leave while all the lords have gathered in Winterfell. You have to command them. A Stark must always be present." Catelyn knew that Robb's presence in Winterfell was vital.
If needed, she herself could march to the Riverlands to retrieve her daughters, but Robb could not move right now. As a Stark, he had to stay, among the northern lords, and prepare for the war ahead.
Robb clenched his fists. "You think I don't know that?" he said with frustration. As a brother, he wanted to ensure his siblings' safety. He had already let Bran go; he could not do the same with Sansa and Arya.
Catelyn stepped closer, voice calm but heavy. "Then lead wisely, my son. Just as a good lord must take responsibility for his duties, he must also have faith in his retainers, in his men. Your father trusted this man, Thor, to bring your sisters home for a reason. And as far as we have seen, he has done a remarkable job. Let us wait for him to succeed. I have faith that he will bring the girls back safely, both by your father's choice and my father's."
Robb met her gaze. For a moment, the young boy she once knew flickered behind his war-hardened eyes. "Fine, as you say," he said quietly.
She smiled, seeing him see reason, and spoke softly. "Your sisters are alive. That is the gods' mercy. As for your father…" Her voice faltered, but she continued, "We must have faith."
Lord Karstark spoke up, breaking the stillness. "If the girls are truly coming north, we should send riders to meet them halfway. Escort them safely."
Robb nodded slowly. "Aye. I'll send men to the Moat Cailin road. But not many. Let us not reveal our movements to the enemy. Only a few, trustworthy men on this mission."
Greatjon grunted approvingly. "Good. And what of this Thor? Shall we reward him properly when he brings them home?"
Catelyn managed a faint smile. "If he has truly done all my father says, then I'll see that he's thanked well. Few men would risk the wrath of the Lannisters to save two northern girls."
Robb's eyes softened. "Then I owe him more than thanks. I owe him my trust."
Catelyn folded the letter carefully and held it to her heart.
Robb looked over the crowded hall—the lords still murmuring, the fire flickering, the banners of the direwolf swaying above them.
"Now that we know my sisters are safe, we only have to focus on my father. Prepare for war. Let's show those Lannisters what happens when Winter Comes For Them."
...
A/N : Genuine Question. Do you like this kind of completely official sounding chapters or with a bit more flare. I use AI to make it more standard reading. However, when I write it myself, I add more jokes, a bit more flare you know.
Which one you prefer.
xxx
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