When Jon stepped outside for a bit of fresh air, Stokeworth used the opportunity to approach him.
"My Prince, have you heard?" His voice faltered.
Jon watched him with compassion. The man had a stab wound just under his left shoulder, a split upper lip and a nasty burn on his left hand. He put his hand on the man's right shoulder.
"I am sorry, Gylles. I know he was a close friend to you. I am truly sorry. I will personally write to his family after everything has been settled. Do you know what happened?"
Stokeworth proceeded to tell him that Rykker had been sliced through by a rusted sword when he desperately attempted to reach his Prince. His body had been burned moments after he drew his last breath. There would be no body to burn on the ceremonial funeral pyre they were planning.
"We'll honour him just the same." Jon had responded to the man's despondent tone. "Any other's you knew well among the casualties?"
"Edgerton didn't get a chance to engage the enemy and is all right. Edd Tollet has a couple of bruises. The others I do not think you knew. Ulmer died when an arrow pierced his throat. Albett lies in the tent of the more severely wounded. He might lose his right arm. The others only have shallow cuts and bruises. Perhaps I should also mention Todder's sprained ankle. But no, I wasn't close to any of them."
"I saw you speaking to Jaime Lannister in a friendly fashion." Stokeworth added a moment later. "We were all surprised to hear of him helping you. We all wanted to be the one to keep you safe and instead, this man, he .." Stokeworth's feelings got the better of him and he had to turn his face away.
"I know it is difficult to believe but Jaime Lannister has chosen to uphold the promise he made to my father, Prince Rhaegar. There is more to this man than meets the eye. He told me why he killed my grandfather. I have absolved him from blame for that. He had a most honourable reason to act the way he did. He should have told the entire realm what disaster he singlehandedly prevented from happening that day." Jon defended Lannister.
"But still, all he did afterwards." Stokeworth objected.
"I told him that I didn't trust him when we met at Castle Black. He asked for a chance to redeem himself and to make good on the promise he gave my father. I guess he took it. It is highly likely that those two White Walkers would have succeeded in killing me if Lannister had not been able to reach me when he did." Jon elaborated.
"I guess." Stokeworth answered reluctantly.
"Crows or men of the Night's Watch fighting side by side with Free Folk also known as Wildlings, would you have believed that a few moons ago?" Jon asked him.
"No, my Prince."
"Well there you have it. Perhaps you should give Jaime Lannister a chance then?"
"I will if you ask me to, my Prince." Stokeworth answered and the matter was closed.
***
When darkness covered the lands beyond the Wall, Sandor and Stokeworth kept watch when both Jon and Orell warged into birds to search for the whereabouts of the enemy. Jon had found a night owl. Orell followed him in his eagle. The enemy had indeed not ventured far yet. Jon counted only a few hundred wights. No wonder Rhaegal and Viserion had been exhausted. If that was all that was left of a force of fifty thousand strong, they must really have outdone themselves. He only saw one White Walker. If only they had taken one more out on the battlefield they could have all slept soundly tonight. A short burial ceremony the next morning and he could have been flying south once more. Instead he was flying in the body of a rather young night owl using the bird's ability to see things clearly in the dark.
Having located the enemy he now continued further north scouting the landscape for a clearing matching Jaime Lannister's requirements. Jon released the eagle and regained consciousness back in the war tent. He quickly leapt to his feet and instructed the small force consisting exclusively of Free Folk and Jaime Lannister to head out. Jaime had changed his attire and wore a copy of Jon's coat. He had also used black coals to darken his hair. They spurred their horses. They intended to circle around the enemy and still reach that clearing before the next night fell. They counted on the fact that the enemy would camp out somewhere during daylight. Perhaps they hid in caves or crawled under bushes? Orell would try to find out. Much about the enemy was still a mystery. They would close the trap when the enemy marched once more after dusk the next night.
***
Jaime sat in the middle of the clearing and waited for the show to start. He had lit a small fire and was roasting a rabbit. The others were hidden north of the clearing and were watching the sky. Viserion who lay a bit further away suddenly lifted his head which startled a few men who had been eying the dragon that lay too close for their comfort with some anxiety. They followed the large beast's gaze and saw a dark shadow move thought the sky. It was time.
Jon heard their screeches before he saw them. He flew low above the ground and gave Rhaegal the go ahead. He lowered his back and grasped the spines tightly. Rhaegal made the perfect show. It appeared as if he tried to climb higher up into the sky only to falter each time and dropped back down turning and losing his balance. He repeated these antics a few times always ending up a bit further north. When he finally hoovered over the clearing he successfully mimicked a dramatic fall from the skies.
The darkness combined with the trees and bushes between the wights and the clearing made it impossible for the enemy to see what really occurred once Rhaegal's form disappeared behind the tall tree tops. Both dragon and rider hid north of the clearing and Jaime Lannister sat on the ground pretending to be the crashed dragonrider.
As soon as the first wights entered the clearing Jaime sprang to his feet. The White Walker also entered the clearing. Upon seeing Jaime all alone, he stopped and all the wights who had already entered the clearing halted as well. The White Walker carefully studied the environment taking his time, probably searching for a sign of the dragon. Rhaegal lying on the opposite end of the clearing let out a small groan. That was enough confirmation for the White Walker. He allowed the rest of the wights to enter the clearing. Jaime took a few steps to his left side which put even more distance between him and the green dragon.
The moment the wights charged at him he rolled to the side and Rhaegal let out an enormous burst of fire killing a large group of wights. Viserion who had been hiding south of the clearing knew it was his turn. The silverwhite dragon rose up in the sky and let out a big roar. Moments later the trees behind the wights resembled giant torches. The wights that had escaped his dragonfire were all forced to enter the clearing.
The twenty men of the Free Folk that they had handpicked from a large group of volunteers now left their hiding place and stood in a wide circle behind Jaime Lannister. All had torches in their hands. Jon who had stayed hidden behind Rhaegal now climbed on his dragon's back and took out his bow and arrow. Jaime had Blackfyre in his hand and slew the few wights that reached him with remarkable ease. Viserion had successfully created half a circle of fire. No one could escape that way. The White Walker fixed his stare on Jon and raised his arms.
The ground around him moved. A dozen frozen corpses dug their way to the surface and fixed their macabre blue eyes on him. The clearing was a either a burial ground or the place where a hunting party had met their untimely end. While Jon was about to curse their bad luck, Rhaegal was not impressed and simply burned all the newly recruited corpses before they had the chance to emerge completely from their graves.
The Free Folk all took out their bows. Jon loosened his first arrow. The White Walker ducked and advanced on him. Several arrows hit him. A few got stuck in the creature's right arm. The White Walker only fastened his pace towards Jon. Jaime slew the last wight with Blackfyre and tried to catch up with the White Walker. The creature still had a big lead.
"Lannister, keep your distance. Remember what I told you." Jon shouted and was relieved to see the man stop in his tracks. Although it was too dark to see his facial expression, Jon was sure Jaime Lannister was very frustrated. "Nock your arrows. Wait for my command." Jon ordered the Free Folk that still stood in an orderly half circle behind him.
Without further ado, Rhaegal and Viserion enveloped the White Walker in dragonfire, Rhaegal from the front, Viserion from behind.
"Loose!" Jon shouted.
A new salvo of dragonglass arrows hit the White Walker who was using all his energy to keep the fire at bay. One moment the creature was still standing there, the next the two streams of fire hit one another. At once both Viserion and Rhaegal stopped breathing fire. Silence fell over the clearing. The only sound Jon's ears picked up was the crackling of the fire that was raging at the south end of the clearing. The large burning trees there provided ample light to make sure that not a single enemy creature had survived the attack.
On Jaime Lannister's signal, the Free Folk broke their formation and advanced to set fire to every single part of a wight they could find.
"It is over, my Prince." Jaime helped Jon descend from the dragon. Rhaegal kept a wary eye on him but let the man help his human whose frail leg was still a bit stiff. As soon as Jon stood solidly on the frozen ground, Lannister just held Blackfyre in both hands and offered it back to his Prince.
"It is over for now." Jon corrected Jaime Lannister while he accepted his sword and proceeded to sheath it into the empty scabbard dangling from his waist. "The Gods only know when they will strike again."
"First you claim your throne. Next time that I see you, I hope to call you my King, my Prince. I would give anything to be allowed to swear you my sword."
"With all the strange things we have seen these last few sennights, who knows. Anything can happen." Jon looked up to the sky. "I'd like to send word. Do you have some writing material on you perchance?"
"Whatever for?"
"See that eagle up there? That is Orell. I want to send a message to Hardhome."
"Wouldn't it be faster if you flew there on your dragon? The threat has been eliminated. We will be safe now when we travel back to Hardhome. We will meet you there in a day."
"After the burial ceremony I'll probably return to Eastwatch and then onward to Dragonstone." Jon warned him and then turned to the men of the Free Folk who had agreed to come on this mission.
"Thanks for your support. Together we just completed another successful battle." He spoke up so everyone could hear him loud and clear.
"It was an easy victory with two dragons by our side." Their leader spoke up. "The Free Folk owe a big debt to the Dragonrider."
"The Dragonrider is honoured to have been offered the friendship of the Free Folk." Jon responded formally. He looked around one last time and turned to mount his dragon.
Jaime nudged his side. "Chances are I won't see you again before you fly off to Eastwatch. I have orders to return with my men to Castle Black and no excuse whatsoever to make a detour to Eastwatch first. Could you spare me a few moment of your time now before you return to Hardhome. No matter how fast I urge my horse, I will never make it there on time."
Jon looked into the man's pleading cat-green eyes and relented. "Let's find a dry spot to sit down for a moment then."
"You are sure we have another battle of this scale to look forward too?" Jaime asked when they sat down on a fallen tree.
"Looking forward is perhaps not the right term." Jon sighed. "But yes. At least a battle this scale. The Gods know how much more powerful the enemy will grow before they emerge from their magic stronghold."
"I want to be put in charge of organising our defenses and coming up with a strategy." Jaime requested.
"You have ideas." Jon stated the obvious.
"Several. I won't trouble you with details now. Bottom line, we do not fight out in the open. You convince the Warden of the North to let the Free Folk find refuge for a while south of the Wall and use this large ice structure your ancestors built to hold off each attack they launch. Their numbers won't matter if we have the upper ground. This way you could deplete their numbers slowly but surely."
Jon looked at Jaime. "That was my ideal plan for this battle but there was no way the Lords of the North and the Night's Watch would have agreed to let the Free Folk south of the Wall nor would the Free Folk have willingly evacuated their lands. The time we had to convince both parties was too short. Hardly anybody had ever seen a wight before let alone a White Walker. It is a difficult thing to believe without seeing it with your own eyes."
"Things are different now and you have moons, perhaps even years to prepare. As I said, I have several ideas on how to use the Wall to our advantage. Let me take some of this burden of your shoulders, Prince Aegon." Jaime pleaded.
"I'll talk with Ser Gerold and we will keep in touch. Probably by raven." Jon promised.
"I would give anything to be a free man and swear you my sword. Your father was a dear friend and ever since I learned that they are alive, I miss my former mentors, Ser Arthur most of all. My whole world has been turned upside down since I heard they survived the Rebellion and a son of Prince Rhaegar lived. If only I could turn back time." Jaime bowed his head overcome with emotion.
"Do you know," he continued a bit later, "that I almost had to beg Cotter Pyke on my knees to be allowed to join the fighting force heading for Hardhome? I would have though; I would have prostrated myself before him if necessary. I made a promise to your father."
Jon stayed silent. His respect for Jaime Lannister had grown with leaps and bounds. It was difficult to still see in him the man that had pushed his cousin Bran from that tower. When he looked at Jaime Lannister now, he saw a capable battle commander, a brave man willing to put his life on the line for a cause he believed in. Not only had he jumped in the fray amongst hundreds of wights, he had also offered to be the bait this very night.
'Just as a Kingsguard would do!' Jon chastised himself for not having drawn the comparison before. He suddenly saw Jaime Lannister's behaviour in a new light. The man stuck close to Jon whenever he had the opportunity. He had been able to reached Jon when no one else succeeded and tonight he had taken Jon's place as bait. All moves a trained Kingsguard would make, never mind his promise to Prince Rhaegar to protect his offspring. Jaime Lannister was a trained Kingsguard, one trained by Ser Arthur Dayne, Ser Gerold, Ser Barristan, all the best of men.
Jon kept staring in the distance his mind warring with conflicting feelings. He was still debating how to respond when Jaime Lannister broke the silence once more. His voice sounded resigned to his fate now. "I wish you all the best, my Prince. I look forward to receiving the raven that heralds you as King Aegon the Sixth of his Name, King of the Seven Kingdoms and the True Protector of the Realms of Men. Perhaps one day the Night's Watch might send me on a mission to find new recruits and I can see you in the Throne Room sitting on the Iron Throne with my own eyes."
Jon finally turned his head and met Jaime Lannister's melancholic eyes. "Perhaps. But you will certainly see me at Castle Black when the Night King makes his next move. I will write to Cotter Pyke on your behalf."
Jaime nodded and stayed silent.
"I better return to my dragons and fly to Hardhome." Jon made a move to get up and was immediately offered the strong arm of Jaime Lannister. He let himself be pulled upright. "You've proven you are more than what people say about you, Ser Jaime." Jon used Lannister's former title on purpose. "You showed us and yourself that you can still make a difference and lead an honourable life. Try not to dwell too much on past mistakes and strive to become the man you were always destined to be. Title or not, the vows of your knighthood still motivate your actions. I'll recommend you to Cotter Pyke and order him to ignore the restrictions Robert Baratheon gave him when you were sentenced to the Wall."
"I'm grateful, my Prince." Jaime bowed and released his arm when they neared the group of the Free Folk.
Jon nodded and turned to take his leave of the small group of volunteers. He knew only a few of them by name. Sandor and Tormund had handpicked them when they had finally agreed to stay behind to see to it that Free Folk, Crows and 'Southerners' would not get into more drunken fights.
High up in the air he kept thinking of the rueful, dejected demeanour of Jaime Lannister and wondered if they would consider him crazy if he relayed to them how difficult it had been not to pardon Jaime Lannister on the spot and give him back his life south of the Wall. He felt a kind of an unexplainable kinship with the former knight, and couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if Jaime Lannister had been present at the Tower of Joy all these years ago and someone else, for example Ser Arthur had stayed in the Red Keep when the Mad King threatened to burn down King's Landing and all its inhabitants.
When he reached Hardhome, he was obliged to put these thoughts away to examine them at a later date. Lady Brienne was waiting for him a safe distance away from his dragons. Edric and Loras Tyrell were also approaching. He hadn't seen the three of them since he left them on the ship after the rafts had been burned and the White Walker leading the attack on his fleet that had been defeated.
Lady Brienne greeted him formally. Edric came running up next and gave him a brief hug. Loras stood awkwardly next to Brienne and bowed. "My Prince."
"I must congratulate you all on a job well done." Jon spoke to all three of them but his gaze lingered longer on Lady Brienne.
"You were right, my Prince. They did come for the ships." Lady Brienne answered demurely but the colour rose in her cheeks.
"Pathetic attack." Edric remarked. "I heard about the fight here. I can't imagine fifty thousand men in one place. Let alone all of them trying to kill you."
"Let's talk about this some other time. We first need to honour our fallen. Have you seen Sandor around or do you know when the ceremony will be held?"
"Tonight shortly before dusk." Loras Tyrell answered.
"Then I can first catch some sleep. I am turning into a night owl. Fighting at night and sleeping the morning away." Jon looked at the sky and guessed by the position of the sun that he still could get plenty or rest in before the sun reached its highest peak.
"Wouldn't you prefer to break your fast first, my Prince?" Lady Brienne offered.
"I will, perhaps while we eat you can brief me on what happened at your end?" Jon asked while he walked to the side of the encampment where the cooks always had food at the ready.
***
To Jon it seemed as if he had only been asleep for mere moments when someone shook him awake.
"Jon. Jon! An urgent message for your eyes only."
Jon scrambled to get to a sitting position. "How? When? From whom?"
"Forwarded from Eastwatch to Hardhome. I think it is from Davos or Ser Gerold. Anyway, it came originally from Dragonstone." Gendry was still breathing heavily. It seemed he had run all the way to the tent where Jon was resting.
Jon rubbed his eyes and clumsily broke the familiar seal. "It is from Davos all right." He paled and dropped the scroll in his lap.
"I need to fly to Dragonstone. I have not an instance to lose. Gendry, tell everyone to go ahead with the funeral as planned. Afterward anyone who wants to leave and go home can do so. I want you, Edric, Loras Tyrell and Lady Brienne to head for Eastwatch tomorrow morning and await further instructions."
He smiled tiredly at his friend. "You might get to see Winterfell sooner than you imagined, Gendry."
"Jon, shouldn't you rest up a bit longer. What can be so urgent that you can't spare half a day. You will at least need two days to get there. Are you and your dragons really up for that? How is your thigh?"
Jon picked up the scroll again and read the few lines one more time. "I'll ask my dragons." He decided finally and awkwardly got to his feet.
"Can't you ask them from here? I mean, just close your eyes and do your thing?" Gendry urged Jon to return to his previous position.
"You are not thinking clearly," he further tried to persuade his friend. "A clear sign you are exhausted from everything you've been through. I hope your dragons agree with me. I might tie you up if they don't."
"Damn, I'll miss you, Gendry. Somehow, you get under my skin without me resenting you for it. It must have something to do with our shared blood, Cousin. I pray you can have a calming influence on Robb as well when you see him next."
Not waiting for a reply, Jon closed his eyes and contacted his dragons. Rhaegal was fast asleep and Jon could sense the dragon's exhaustion. He was not fit to fly the entire way to Dragonstone yet. Better to wait one more day than crashing into the Shivering Sea from exhaustion.
"No need to search for those ropes, Gendry. I'll rest a bit longer. Wake me if I sleep past the second half of the afternoon.
***
The funeral ceremony marked another event for the history books: Wildlings, Crows and Lords of the North praying together, honouring their dead in a joint ceremony. Jon made a mental note to describe the funeral in fine detail to Sam later.
He was set to fly to Eastwatch at first light and then evaluate Rhaegal's condition before attempting the long trek south. He had spent some time with Rhaegal when they both were awake in the late afternoon. Jon had urged him to eat some more to regain his strength. The dragon's spirit had lifted when he heard they would soon be heading home to Dragonstone. Jon was sure Rhaegal would do his best to regain his strength as soon as possible. If it had not been so cold at night, Jon would have slept amidst his dragons his last night beyond the Wall. Instead he opted to set up a larger tent close to the beach where his dragons had settled in for the night. Ghost and Gendry would stay with him during the night.
Loras, Edric and Lady Brienne kept him company until it was time to retire. Loras and Edric entertained Jon with a hilarious description of Lady Brienne's encounter with Tormund Giantsbane. The man had flirted shamefully with her and had offered to set her up with one of his friends all the while telling her how his heart was sad that he only met her after he had already been claimed by another. Lady Brienne at first took part in the conversation making fun of the big red headed half-giant. By the end of the tale however she had fallen silent and sported two big red cheeks.
Despite the fact that Jon had slept a large part of the day, he fell asleep immediately and it was not until the early morning that his sleep was disturbed by strange dreams. He woke with a start and felt energized. All would be well. This time it had not been nightmares that had awoken him. If what he had dreamt was a greendream, then perhaps things would work out for the best.
He exited the tent in time to see a beautiful red sun emerging from the water and colour the sky in all shades of orange and red. He stretched his body and lifted his arms up towards the sky. Things were looking up. Soon he would be back on Dragonstone and he could finally concentrate on claiming the throne that had been stolen from his family. It was time to clear his father's name and tell the realm what a loving husband he had been instead of a rapist. And then he and Dany would marry.
When he looked back towards the sea, the water once more looked its normal shade of greenish blue and the sun had risen a bit higher in a now clear blue sky. 'Time to break my fast. If Jaime Lannister has ridden part of the night, I will still be able to say goodbye to him before he heads back to Castle Black. I'll make certain to talk to my three Kingsguards about him. They knew him before things went wrong. I need to learn more about who he was before.'
Jon's musings were interrupted when Ghost nudged his left thigh. Jon petted the white wolf's head.
"Come on, Ghost. Time to find us some food."
***
Jon was in the midst of breaking his fast when Lord Osric Umber appeared. "My Prince." He greeted. "I am sorry to disturb your meal but we all heard you will be leaving soon and a spokesman for the Bolton men has asked repeatedly to be granted an audience. I stalled him yesterday but now I think perhaps that was wrong."
"Wrong?"
"Who knows when you will be returning to the North, my Prince?" Lord Umber stated the obvious. "These men want to be reassured. They suffered the heavier losses if you take into account what a small group they were to begin with."
"How did that come about?" Jon asked fully alert now.
"Sheer bad luck. They were in the wrong place at the wrong time, shall we say. The gap froze over where they were positioned on the front lines. Many of these men were servants instead of seasoned warriors."
"I didn't realise servants had been placed on the front lines." Jon frowned.
"They volunteered, my Prince. Repeatedly if I may say so. They were under my command. Do not assume the blame for my decision to give in to their request"
"Then granting their spokesmen some of my attention is the least I can do for them. If I do not have the time, can you send Lord Bolton a message conveying my thanks for their assistance and describe the bravery his men showed in the face of such a fierce enemy?"
"You can count on it my Prince. And I'll summon Nage immediately." The large man bowed and left Jon and Ghost to finish their meal in peace.
Jon's mind once more debated on how random actions could change the fate of men. This time it was not only Jaime Lannister's predicament that occupied his mind, he thought about Rykker, Stokeworth, Domeric Bolton and also about the poor servants that had died trying to regain honour they hadn't really lost in the first place. How many men had already died in his service over the years? He was glad to focus on something else when Lord Umber reappeared with Nage, the spokesman for the Bolton delegation and focussed his attention on hearing what the man came to say.
***
Before he left, Jon briefly took his leave from the leaders of the Free Folk. Gendry, Tormund, Sandor and Ygritte got a more personal goodbye. Stokeworth had tears in his eyes when Jon hugged him and whispered in his ear that if all went well he could expect to receive a royal pardon very soon and if he so desired, that he would always have a position at his court.
Jon sent a scroll to Lord Manderly informing his Master of Ships that he had given the ships docked at the Bay of Ice the order to return to Bear Island. The ships at Hardhome would sail to Eastwatch and stay there another fortnight until things were settled over there.
He also gave Lady Brienne detailed instructions for their travels south. They would sail with the fleet to Eastwatch, hand over a scroll from Jon to the Commander there and then choose three ships to safely sail all the way to Dragonstone. Edric and Loras would of course accompany her. Gendry planned to travel to Winterfell in the company of the small group from Winterfell. He also carried several letters from Jon. He would visit there for a moon or so and then continue south to Dragonstone or King's Landing if all went according to plan.
At first Jon had wanted to send Ghost south with Lady Brienne. But after communicating with his direwolf, it became clear that Ghost would rather travel overland. His direwolf did not even opt to accompany Gendry for the first part of the journey. Ghost clearly preferred to travel at his own speed. Jon was worried for his direwolf's safety but had relented acknowledging the fact that Ghost had a right to make his own decisions. He was not a pet but a companion and a dear friend. He just hoped that his direwolf would not get lost or come to harm on his way south.
Jon felt as if a big weight had fallen off his shoulders the moment his dragons took to the sky and he could leave the North behind. He waved one last time at his friends who had assembled to see him off. He had done his duty and could finally concentrate on his own cause again.
Interlude 33: A pack has only one leader
"You are just parroting what Jon says and does." Robb accused his Uncle.
"I am only thinking of your well-being and of what is best for the North." Benjen Stark tried once more to make his nephew see sense. "Just look at it from Lord Norrey's perspective.
"I don't have to. I am the ruling Warden of the North in absence of my father and I will grant Lord Flint his request. I don't have to consider Lord Norrey's wishes and I certainly am under no obligation to heed your advice."
"All right, I give in, Nephew. Let us not quarrel over such a small issue." Benjen took a step forward prepared to concede once more. It had been a trying few sennights. Robb fought him at every turn. It seemed his stubborn brother had ordered his son and heir to rule the North the same way he did: with absolute authority and relying solely on his own rigid ideas and decisions.
'The Lords of the North are stubborn.' Ned Stark had written to his son. 'Give them a little leeway and they'll never obey you again. The only way to keep them in hand is to rule with an iron fist and never have your edicts second guessed by anyone, not in public, not even in private. Such things have a way of getting out and nobody will respect you if they so much as get a hint that you lean on others to come to a decision.'
Robb stood up leaning his hands on the large desk and towered over his uncle who remained seated. "If it was only this one time, I might give you a free pass, Uncle. But you offer unrequested advice at every opportunity, knowing full well you bestow it to an unwilling recipient and much too frequently. I have tried to be patient, Uncle. But perhaps I am to blame to have let this situation get out of hand. I ask you formally to cease interfering in my business or you will no longer be welcomed in my presence."
"Robb, please sit down again. I understand that …"
He was cut off by Robb's riposte. "Don't you dare tell me one more time that I am tired or not well enough yet. Or perhaps this time you were about to retort that I was not thinking clearly because I have too much on my plate for one so young? Whichever excuse you were going to come up with for what you perceive to be unreasonable behaviour on my account, let me tell you once and for all that I am well again and I am thinking clearly. Just because I have a different opinion than you on some things, doesn't mean that I am the one who is in the wrong. Ever think of that, Uncle?"
Benjen Stark bit his tongue in an effort not to yell at his nephew. His thoughts flitted back to the events in the training yard this morning. It had been abundantly clear how quickly Robb had tired and how frustrated his nephew had been when he had lost the grip on his sword several times and had dropped it like a green boy just starting to learn his first moves.
But Benjen couldn't get around the truth any longer. Things hadn't gone smoothly between him and Robb lately. Robb disagreed with almost every statement that came out of his mouth. Sometimes it seemed that his nephew did it just because he could contradict him. There had been a particular discussion where Benjen had tested this theory. They had debated a problem at the beginning of the meeting and Benjen had leaned one way with his advice to have it contradicted by Robb who instantly changed the subject. When later during the same meeting they returned to the still unresolved topic and Benjen had given the exact opposite advice compared to earlier, Robb had instantly told his uncle he was utterly wrong and had asked Benjen to just let him handle the problem on his own.
He sighed when he saw the stubborn look on Robb's face. "Am I to understand that you are fully recovered and no longer need my presence here at Winterfell?" Benjen did his utmost to keep the bitterness from showing in the tone of his voice.
"I have things under control here and you are free to leave. I know you are itching to go back to my paragon of a cousin. Don't let me keep you." Robb answered and sat back down.
Benjen tried not to flinch and hid how insulted he felt. Ever since he had let it drop that Jon had become betrothed to Princess Daenerys and that it was a love match, Robb had at times shown a slight resentment toward his cousin. It didn't help that Ned was urging his son to consent to a betrothal with Lady Margaery of House Tyrell before allowing the young couple to meet each other first as had previously been agreed.
"Your cousin is putting his life at risk to save the North. He is perhaps on the battlefield as we speak." Benjen kept his voice down but his body language showed his disapprobation.
"I don't want to talk about this any further." Robb sighed. "Just leave me alone for now, Uncle. I still need to respond to all these messages.
Benjen Stark left his chair. "Shall I send for Maester Luwin?"
"No need." Robb answered not looking up. "I have it under control."
***
Two days later at the crack of dawn in the courtyard of Winterfell
"Are you really going all the way South to the Iron Throne, Uncle Benjen? Can I come with you?"
Arya Stark tugged at his coat stopping her uncle from grabbing the reins of his horse. His youngest niece had always been an early riser and she had been sent to bed long before the small farewell feast had been in full swing.
Benjen turned and looked down into her eager eyes. "Perhaps next time, Arya."
"Jon will need me to come visit soon, I am sure of it." Her big eyes pleaded with her uncle to reconsider.
"Then you better wait till you receive his invitation, little one." He smiled at her eagerness.
"I am no longer little. Tell Jon that when you see him. Tell him I will help him get rid of the usurperer." She tugged at his coat to make sure he heeded her words.
"Usurper, Arya. And I won't forget to tell him that, you have my word. But in turn you must promise me to keep training hard and show up in time for your lessons with Maester Luwin. A King's protector not only needs to know how to wield a sword but must be smart and know all the sigils and the allegiances of the houses of the entire realm. That and many more things so you can be a real help to your cousin." He gently wormed his coat out of the strong grip of her little fist.
"I will do my best, Uncle Benjen. Make sure to tell Jon that too." She stepped back so he could grab the reins of his horse.
"It is time that I am off then. Don't forget to write to Jon yourself. I know how much he enjoys receiving a raven from you." He smiled when he saw her nod several times with honest conviction.
Benjen quickly mounted his stallion and spurred it in the direction of the large gate. Leaving the stronghold, he prayed that Robb would be able to cope with everything on his own. He would have to persuade Jon that it was for the best that he left Robb to his own devices. If Jon had only glimpsed a part of Robb's behaviour during the small feast that Catelyn had arranged as a sending off party for him, he would not question Benjen's decision to leave. Robb had hardly spoken a word to his uncle until later in the evening when he was in his cups. In his drunken state, his nephew had made some derogatory remarks that still hurt too much to dwell on. Benjen startled when he heard the large gates of his childhood home close after him.
He took a deep breath and felt the knot in his stomach ease. It was time for a new era to begin. This Stark was travelling south. He urged his horse faster and rode in the direction of the Kingsroad. He had sent out ravens to all his acquaintances for a fresh horse to be readied. He would travel on his own, overland at high speed and would arrive in King's Landing in a record number of days. And at the end of this arduous journey he would find a nephew who would welcome him with open arms and who would be grateful and very happy to have his company and advice.