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It is currently WINTER in WESTEROS during the year 303 AC. The new moon cycle marks a full twenty years since the Mad King was murdered, and his son King Rhaegar ascended the Iron Throne in his place. Though the year is fresh, war in the Narrow Sea has left the Free Cities of Volantis and Tyrosh in ashes, and the Long Night continues to beckon from the Northern fringes of the Seven Kingdoms. With the Queen Lyanna presumed dead, the citizens of the realms look only to each other for survival.
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 BY ORDER OF, MATTY
ROBB STARK
 Posted: May 23 2016, 06:03 AM
Quote
oswin is Offline
19 years old
NORTH [A]
house stark
stark
winterfell
noble


Fog blanketed the veil of trees that spread below, from his vantage point atop the impossibly high structure. This was what he had wanted, this was what held within his dreams and conscious. "You alright m'lord?" Tepid gaze flickered to him, if only for the moment. Beholding the out of breath ward. He had been tasked with keeping up with Lady Arriana at Winterfell, while he had boasted it was an easy task. The other lords had simply smirked behind their ales as he had set off to his duties, it was only mid day and it seemed that his sister had already given the poor lad more work than he had originally bargained for. The very sibling that stole the breath from his lungs was not exactly something one could rightly just 'prepare' for. Learning to anticipate Arriana was the same as attempting to control the weather, futile for everyone involved. THe poor lad seemed happy to be relieved of his duties.

Robb did not bother to verify him with an answer, they had long since passed the last town, and a few structures that lay between it. Weaving through woods that mapped the continent. Alongside his father they had both undergone the journey. Eddard Stark was a rock, a fortress within a churning sea that always remained steadfast. He was the only one in the entire Stark tree that had not imposed his opinion to the mystery which was his future on him. His father had stood by his statement, saying that he would not chose the future for his son. The boy did not know what the lingering sadness was that dwelt within his colourless gaze. Yet he found he could not respect his father more for it, neither were ones to talk on fickle problems that bothered the other. Silence was one thing they shared more often than not.

They rode into Castle Black, the clap of thunder was barely being held at bay by the looming clouds. The rain followed soon after, falling in torrents and rousing the mud from beneath the snow. The looming wall of ice was set out before him, workers scrambling to escape from the torrents. The skeletal bones of the castle stuck out from the ice, thin veils and colourless flags were lagged down from their newly acquired burden. Making his way to the top of the wall almost brought his heart into his throat. The chill itself was enough to burn the flesh of his skin, feeling the exposed flesh purple under the blistering touch. Perhaps oblivious to the rain, or had no way to get down without slipping in the cascade of mud that was slowly forming at the base of the foundations, Robb continued on with the man of the Nigths Watch.

Only stilling once he reached the summit, surrounded by silence and cloaked with the night, he cast his grey eyes forth. Drinking in the energy that now flowed through him, surprised that his Grandfather had permitted it. Or perhaps his own father had failed to mention it, in order to allow his son to take the long needed, deep breath that he so ached for. They were waiting here, for the prince himself. It was a foresight, for the Stark's and a member of the Royal family to make an appearance here. To show their support for the coming winter, to extend their reach for the lost Queen. Yet as Robb stood, outlined by light and swallowed by the vastness of the world behidn him. It was inevitable to deny that the long night would soon be upon them. Gods forbid that they were unprepared when it did.

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MATARYS TARGARYEN
 Posted: Jun 5 2016, 07:35 PM
Quote
quetzal is Offline
20 years old
DORNE
targaryen
targaryen
the tower of joy
prince


The primary purpose of Matarys' visit to Castle Black had been to aid the search for the Queen, but in truth he had long wanted to see the land beyond the Wall. His mother had consumed his thoughts since her disappearance and it obsessed him still; he would not have made the trip had he thought there was nothing to be gained for the cause. This was further north than anyone else had searched. He wanted to question the men here too, to see if any rangers had any relevant news. The importance the Starks saw in royal interest in the Night's Watch was secondary to him. Yet still it was of some importance. Even someone as sceptical as he had to admit there was something behind all those with special sight dreaming the same dreams. The Targaryens had to see the situation for themselves, first hand, as the surest method of persuasion, and as the northern blood was most obvious in Matarys he was the easiest choice to talk to the northmen, however many of the Night's Watch might come from the south. He thought the sight of silver hair and purple eyes would have made a more obvious statement, but he wasn't about to decline the offer.

Such events led to the young prince standing beside his cousin in a rattling metal cage ascending a hulking wall of ice one hundred feet tall. The height concerned him little. A dragonrider could not afford to fear heights, and he had not only flown on Yraenyx's back but in his head as well, the beast's wings his own. The ground was far below him, the wind swaying the cage on complaining old chains, but those chains had made countless journeys and they would make countless more. He wondered momentarily whether the Wall truly was a hundred feet tall or if no one had ever bothered measuring it and made a round guess.

The cage clunked to a stop and was pulled over the top of the wall. Matarys stepped out. Despite looking as northern as everyone else here - the similarity in appearance a novelty to him after feeling different to his family and other southerners - he had lived in the south all his life and in the hot sands of Dorne for over a year now. Being so accustomed to heat made him suffer the cold all the more. Even the men in their black wool were shivering. He felt it all the more. Higher up with no shelter the wind was relentless. It made him very aware of any gap in his clothing, ice touching his wrists, chest, the back of his neck, wherever it could slip through folds in his furs on occasion. The only bare skin, his face, burned more painfully than when he first moved to Dorne and the sun reddened all his pale unaccustomed skin. He had on thick thermal undergarments, multiple shirts and pairs of trousers, fur-lined garments over every inch of his body, boots with a strong grip, a fur-lined hat covering his ears, scarf, fur cloak that was practically a blanket, yet there was still ice in his bones.

Pressing the discomfort to the back of his mind he looked to Robb. The firstborn of the Warden of the North's second and third eldest children stood together at the edge of their world. "This is the furthest north I've ever been. You know, I've never seen land my family didn't rule before." The fact was obvious but Matarys felt like giving voice to it more to express how he felt than anything else. It was hard to describe this feeling of awe otherwise. They stepped towards the other side of the Wall, each step a new record for how far from home Matarys had ever been.

Below them stretched the world. Trees mingled chaotically in a disorderly forest stretching far into the distance until it was swallowed by swirling white fog and falling snow. The fog swept through the trees, the pointed crowns of firs stabbing through, green daggers punching at cloud. Out there were wild people, wild beasts, and unnamed wild things unknown to the rest of the world. How many mysteries was he staring at right now, blocked by the trees or the limits of his eye's resolution? Was he looking at his mother? His lost uncle Benjen? He stared taking it in for a time. No words were necessary. His mind wanted to process rather than start thinking about anything else. Finally he did speak. "It's hard to get my head around. All this beyond the known world, and no one even knows how far it goes on for. We are looking at so many unanswered, even unasked, questions. There's far more out there than the wildlings thought of by southerners as the purpose of the Wall, isn't there? I've heard the reports. I know what people have seen in dreams. Even I have ominous feelings from my dreams, and mine are not as strong as my siblings'. Yet the rumours twist so far from the Wall, and most people believe them silly stories or tell completely different versions to each other. It's hard to know the truth. Could something here have taken mother?" he watched for Robb's response to the sight beyond the Wall as well as the questions.
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ROBB STARK
 Posted: Jul 18 2016, 05:25 PM
Quote
oswin is Offline
19 years old
NORTH [A]
house stark
stark
winterfell
noble


Persuaded by the feet of his boots against the ice of his feet, Robb felt his heart soar like never before, instantly aware of the prickle of gooseflesh against his skin, to the rush of blood in his cheeks Invigorated by the power and uncertainty that laid before him. The cold rush of the winter air brushed past him, or more through him, it was a chill to the bone. The constant shudder that rolled through his form only iced his light gaze even more, searching the winding trees. His mind promising that there were creatures moving in its shadows. Each with a low warning growl or sound that was a call of the wild. It was hard to think, that his aunt could be lost beyond the ice barricade. How, it did not make logical sense. Yet it felt as though it was the only place that they had not searched. His uncle had been lost beyond those walls, both of their uncles, the Stark thought quietly as he spared the dark haired Targaryen that rode here with him a thought.

As if summoned by the darkened and almost ill fated turn of his thoughts, the sound of the lift behind him groaned and creaked. Turning to observe the mattered and almost frail old wood swing open, the Crownlands prince looked as at home as any of the other lads here. Yet they all seemingly scrambled to get out of his way. Robb refrained from a tired sigh, the job at hand was so out of his control. Seemingly so fruitless that the size of it all was almost enough to make one want to turn away. Yet they could not, he had seen how the loss of his daughter effected his grandfather, the lost of his sister shadowed his father, and the loss was worn on each of Lyanna's children. Well, the ones who had paid visit to the North. Rhaenna and Visenya had been the ones to bring the bad news home, the corpse of the Queen's direwolf. Now it borne on her sons face, as he approached the wide and arching ice wall where the heir of the second son stood.

"This is the furthest north I've ever been. You know, I've never seen land my family didn't rule before." Robb bore a weary smile in response, glancing over his shoulder to his cousin as they both turned to the view. Too akin in many subjects, yet so far apart from the breadth of fire and ice. "It is the furthest North I have been, as well." Turning to the view that was afore mentioned. "That's part of its beauty, I suppose." Mulling silently with his thoughts, "Men want to tame it, women see the poetry in it, and then of course there is the Wildlings." Having words with the Old Bear himself, the thread of the Wildings was becoming increased, more reports of them scaling the wall, some, in their desperation were resorting to charging the walls and taking their chances with the archers. Something was dreadfully wrong in the North. It did not take the disappearance of the Queen to signify it.

Gaze once more landing to the frozen shores, the land of Forever Winter lay before it. A curt dip of his head, Robb nodded once in silent acceptance. "I once saw a map that tried to depict the ice fjords that lay past Thenn, to the Land of Always Winter." There had been a simple note after that, written in hastily scrawled ink Uncharted. Perhaps the vast wasteland that lay after those simple, and elegantly carved words was too much to comprehend. "...There's far more out there than the wildlings thought of by southerners as the purpose of the Wall, isn't there?" Turning to cast a glance to his cousin over the long spans of his shoulders. "I have heard the stories that Old Nan used to tell us," Admitting almost sheepishly, "Yet there are dragons in the world once more, and direwolves. What is to say that there is not more to it than that?" A shard of ice splintered through him at the words that finally fell across the Princes lips, asking the inevitable question that Robb did not have the answer to, that no one in the seven realms, save for perhaps Lyanna herself, had the answer to. "Could something here have taken mother?" The wind could not have chilled his bones more than that question did. "It's entirely likely...." The white wolf answered honestly,not going to shower him with falsities. Anything could have taken their Queen. And it would have had to have been a force indeed to content with the regiment that had been with her. "I'm sorry cousin."

Letting the silence fall over them, "But it does not mean we will stop looking." Gaze the colour of glacier water, Robb found them lingering on the similar boned features of his blood. The King, nor the Warden, would not stop searching for answers, or their beloved Lyanna. Even if Winter took them all beforehand. "Winter is the Queens home, and I am sure she has not given up on us yet." Pausing, Robb drew his gaze back to the view, as snow started to slowly flit from the heavens. "Did the Old Bear jest that he had a bed waiting here for you as well?" Attempting to turn the conversation to a lighter path, the aspect of joining the Knights Watch seemingly the first thing that came to mind. Smirking somewhat at where the young prince would place his dragon, it was an attempt to lift the mood that had fallen over the pair.
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MATARYS TARGARYEN
 Posted: Jul 28 2016, 10:57 PM
Quote
quetzal is Offline
20 years old
DORNE
targaryen
targaryen
the tower of joy
prince


The Wall was the furthest north almost everyone in Westeros had been, so it was no surprise that included Robb. Scattered all too thinly along the Wall around them were men of the Night's Watch more focused on keeping warm than the spectacular view Matarys and his cousin stared at. They must have seen that view countless times by now. A thing like that never lost its majesty but didn't demand so much attention when it was everyday. Part of the beauty was, as Robb said, in how unknown the landscape was. He thought taming the far north was a pretty good idea at the moment for men and women alike, poetry be damned. Danger lurked in that beauty. Facing it now thinking of its work so far made the idea of poetry seem foolish. The north had to be tamed, or at least whatever was making people disappear, if human life on Westeros was to survive. He suspected sneaking people from their beds was not all they were capable of.

The Land of Always Winter was a strong candidate for the birthplace of a lot of the mysteries rising in recent times. Extreme detail of places all over the world was known, but not that one on their doorstep. Even places little was known about, far reaches of Essos or beyond the Summer Isles, they knew people who had met people from there, enough to roughly sketch boundaries and coastlines. No one went into the Land of Always Winter, not even wildlings. Absolutely nothing was known about what lived there, if it kept getting colder or got warmer again at some point, how far the land extended until it gave way to sea. There had to be an end. He was not sure anyone would ever know. Survival was impossible for any known living being. To live there would take something of harder mettle. Or perhaps a creature with an otherwordly edge. The dragons, for example, were uncomfortable but not particularly bothered by the freezing temperatures high in the sky here. Who was to say they couldn't cope with the extremes that killed any man? Sending a rider with them was suicide, but if he were to look through Yraenyx's eyes while he flew north... but that was an idea for another time.

He looked back at Robb and gave a small smile, knowing what it was like to suddenly find more to stories you swore were children's tales. "Grandfather told me some too. And Arianna tried to scare me with them once or twice when we were little," he said fondly, wishing he were a child again sat safely on a lap spellbound by stories, no reason to fear them to Arianna's disappointment. "Some may have been made up recently, but a few of the figures and beasts were passed down for centuries. Every story is inspired by something. Who's to say those might be taken literally? Direwolves and dragons were impossible not too long ago, as were the giants and mammoths these men talk of," he waved a hand at the black-cloaked men around them. "If there's one thing I know, it's that there is a lot we don't know. There is a power in the godswoods, the heart trees watch. Old gods, ice monsters, giant spiders, the children of the forest, maybe they're as extinct as dragons. More besides that never made it past the Land of Always Winter into our stories." He had tried not to express the full extent of his turning back on former scepticism before but Robb seemed to be on the same page as him. And I know more is happening, he thought to himself. I can use eyes that aren't my own, even dozens of miles away. Strange forces are at work even in my own body.

Fear dragged his heart down. He held Robb's gaze for a moment, grateful at least he had the sense to speak true rather than sugar coat a matter they both knew to be bleak however you looked at it, then had to look away. He nodded slightly. Staring out made him feel very small. Not just because he was on a Wall a hundred times his height looking at a dramatic vast landscape. He felt small in his mind too. He knew the world behind him but nothing of what lay ahead. He did not know where his mother was. He did not know what powers had awakened in the world. He knew so little about anything compared to how much stuff was out there.

A small smile returned as the silence gave way to something more light hearted. "You too? I'm afraid I don't think he was joking," he said. The Old Bear needed as many men as possible, those trained in both fighting and leading as he and Robb were much more appealing recruits than the usual criminals sent there as punishment. Of course he knew the prince could not abandon his duty to the realm even if it was for another kind of duty to the realm. He had heard Robb mention the Wall before, and there was a possibility a Stark might be more easily persuaded. "Ever been tempted? A direwolf is a little easier to house than a dragon, but I daresay neither will put men around them at ease. Might go some way to improving their image as glorious defenders, though. These men look like they're having the time of their lives, too!" seeing them freezing their arses off every day made him understand why they were all so grim and quick-tempered the whole time.
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ROBB STARK
 Posted: Aug 22 2016, 05:33 AM
Quote
oswin is Offline
19 years old
NORTH [A]
house stark
stark
winterfell
noble


Chill did not do the word justice for the cold breeze the swept through him. Robb felt as though he were nothing more than a blade of grass. Nestled atop a monstrous plan that was subject to the elements around him. With no more control over the weather than he had over fate, it reminded him how small and insignificant he was. They could do nothing over the winter that was just beginning to breach the realms. They could not stop it, perhaps like they could not stop the odd occurrences that were beginning to bud and pop up all over the realm. For he had heard of the attempts on Matary's twins life, his cousin, and after the death of Tywin Lannister, bizarre ongoings were more persistent and becoming increasingly more persistent as time wore on. Who was to say what the next turn of the moon would bring? The reports from the Wall were skewed and almost confusing in nature. It was part of the reason that both he and Matarys had rode this way. That and to see if any trace of the missing Queen was afoot. The former was left to be unsaid.

At the mention of their warden, Robb felt all glimmer of amusement leave his features, "He always did save the best stories for when you came down." Commenting without malice, it was hard, for his brow not to fold in contemplation. You being the entire royal family, it was undeniable that the Warden had an impeccable soft spot for the silver haired and purple eyed deities that graced their halls.It was no secret, he could easily recall when they had clambered over the others in the Great hall. After pestering Old Nan enough, the Lord Stark had finally caved and given in to the hearty demands of his grandchildren, who were numerous in numbers and attitude, all demanding a different fable from the past and arguing with the other of which tale was greater. Those days were easier, yet there was no point in missing something that would not come back. Now all those times are nostalgia. Something to hold on to, but never relive.

"Your dragon proves just that," Light coloured gaze glowed slightly before turning once more to the chill. "As I suppose does that pack of wolves in Winterfell." Ignoring the tingle of sharp pins that were felt across his cheekbones from the chill, Robb mused softly. "The Old ways are awakening, and they do not come quietly." His tongue stilling in his throat, the mention of the Queen. Suddenly feeling as though lead lay to rest behind his teeth. Instead finding solace in the sharp whistle of the wind against the balustrades. Thinking of his wolf, and the nights that he dreamt of the wet soil and howls beyond Winterfells walls. The Old Gods were awakening indeed, perhaps not quickly enough. What were they to do when the full force of Winter was on their doorstep? While the Starks had prepared their whole life for what was to come, it was only that, preparation. For they could not guess the full force of nature until the crest had finally broken over them. In the thick of it, they would realise the true potential that would be thrown at them.

Unable to withhold his relief at the tension that eased between them, a smirk played across the expanse of his lips. "Nor do I, I stopped laughing after he showed me my rooms." Big enough for your hound, he had said. While there had been nothing glamorous about the life in Castle Black, it was not the glamour that he wanted. It was the unwound trails that were laid beyond, the work, the idea that any man could make something of himself. Be it a bastard, or a second son, an heir to nothing with no purpose. Had he ever been tempted? Every day. "Aye, I have." Answering his blood honestly, it was no secret. "But family presides over your own wishes, and it is they who have the louder voice than I." Shrugging it off as easily as he could. "It's a hard life, lead by hard men." Smirking somewhat, "They most likely lost their sense of humour with their sense of feeling." For the cold was quite numbing. Even for the white wolf, who had lived in the North all of his life. But not the true North, that was yet to be discovered.
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MATARYS TARGARYEN
 Posted: Sep 6 2016, 05:28 AM
Quote
quetzal is Offline
20 years old
DORNE
targaryen
targaryen
the tower of joy
prince


A wind blew and Matarys pulled his furs tighter around himself with a shiver. The cold bit at his face and lungs most of all as the most exposed part of his body. Freezing air inside him forced him to focus on breathing normally, else the shock of such sharp fresh air would have made him breathe in gasps. After a few moments he would be accustomed to the air until the next blast of wind shocked his lungs. Up here, a simple breeze was enough to make a dragon prince shiver and gasp. Titles meant nothing. There was an honesty to that he rather liked. Everyone was born the same here in the sight of ice, it was your actions that made you great. It was refreshing. He preferred that to the ways of the south by far. Men of the Night's Watch must be used to breathing in cold air by now. He imagined how they would react, or even how he would respond when he travelled home, coming very suddenly into warmer air of the south or the greater heat of Dorne. The air there was much harder to breathe, it would feel like he needed twice as much to get by.

He hadn't realised the best stories were reserved for him. He had always assumed they were the same ones Old Nan and his grandfather always told. The long distance meant they never visited very often, so it did make sense to try packing in all the best stories while they could, the less exciting ones far more numerous for when a child needed to be taught a lesson in a fun way, or needed a bed-time story each night. He too fondly remembered huddling on the floor in Winterfell with his many siblings and cousins, bickering over what happened next to the characters they had heard about, or which tale they wanted to hear, the Starks knowing them all better but the Targaryens trying to join in the debate anyway. He had always fought for the ones with old magic or where the hero used his wits to outsmart the enemy. That time in his life was sorely missed, safe and warm cosy around a fire with many children his own age, family he loved dearly, the grandfather he admired telling them about the wonders of the north, when the biggest thing he had to worry about was picking the next story. Shame everyone had to grow up.

Dragons and direwolves. He smiled and nodded. They were proof indeed, not the kind of proof that lets anyone ignore them. Both sides of his family were so closely entwined with magic or ancient gods or whatever was behind the strange things of this world. One ice, one fire. One here in the north, the other far away in Valyria. Both older than anyone knew. He still did not know if they were there to fight together or against each other. He hoped they were made to fight the common enemy, the Others the Night's Watch talked about, but the old forces of the north were tied to the dead men walking. If the two sides of old power, the two sides of himself, were supposed to fight against each other, how was he to pick a side? Whichever he chose he would be trying to kill a part of himself. He had to hope they were awakening to fight together to bring down a third force, that the Others were a different thing entirely to the old gods of the north. They had to be. No one knew what they were, but the old gods protected the living, not the monsters clawing their way back.

A snort of laughter escaped him at the image of a stunned Robb trying to explain to Mormont that he was not actually joining the Night's Watch. He was not surprised that he had been truly tempted either. As a child he had admired the men on the Wall, talking of joining them, and he was unlikely to inherit Winterfell with Artos, Sansa, and his own father ahead of him, the former two probably soon to be married and have more children of their own to sit ahead of Robb in the line to inherit. There were others after him in the line too. He would really not be letting anyone down by renouncing it. "It's wise to listen to family advice. They are some of the only people who will have your best interests in mind rather than what they might gain," he said, though in this case it sounded a little like the Starks just didn't want to lose a member. Their uncle Benjen had been lost north of the Wall, after all, and Rickard was protective of his wolf pack. "They are a gloomy bunch, aren't they? I smiled at one and he looked at me like I'd just slapped his mother," he agreed. Understandable when you had to deal with this weather all the time with the poor resources he'd seen, the looming unknown threat making people disappear and far too few people to defend the realm with. The view wasn't half bad, though.

"I daresay you'll get to help them before long. There's so few of them and they're so far away no one down south ever thinks of the Watch," he knew that much from experience. Out of sight, out of mind. They had their own issues with their own small bits of land. They were too focused on that to look further afield and start to comprehend that there might be a bigger threat to the kingdom as a whole. The Wall was just someone else's problem - but since everyone thought that, "someone else" became no one. It was just somewhere to send criminals you didn't want to kill to stop the pestering letters begging you for men. "I hope we can learn about whatever's out there and stop it in the early stages. But no one's trying. When the threat becomes real, I suppose the Starks will have to fight with the Night's Watch anyway. I would like to help, if the troubles in Dorne don't keep me," he admitted. He had thought about what he would do should the danger in the north become real for a while now, and decided a threat from unknown supernatural forces was more dangerous than the threat from Essos. At least there the enemy was still human. That didn't mean he would be physically able to leave his responsibilities in the south to help the north, which concerned him greatly. He was torn.
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ROBB STARK
 Posted: Oct 7 2016, 07:56 AM
Quote
oswin is Offline
19 years old
NORTH [A]
house stark
stark
winterfell
noble


Wisps and tendrils of white plumes bellowed from his nostrils, stolen so easily by the gusts of wind seemingly from the depths of winter themselves. Gazing through the trees, or what he could see, from the whitened tops to the trunks that were so easily bent to the will of the elements around them. The spotters along the wall, hunched and hunkered in the small dens of ice that had been carved into the wall shuddered each time the wind blew. So used was he to crowded and flushed rooms swelling around him, like a rising tide. Now, here with the trees moving and swaying with the steps and breath of the wind that swarmed within. Robb could almost hear the disgust that would have beheld in his Grandfathers voice if he had mentioned the idea of the Capital to him. A simmer of amusement rippled through his stoic frame summoning what he thought would be his voice, "Greenlanders, so oblivious to their own pretentiousness that they complain when they spot others." As always, Robb held the neutral middle ground when it came to those debates. Mostly they lay between his Aunt and her father, they were surely only to increase once Elinor returned to Winterfell. If she did, with her new betrothed it would be limited, if none when he would see his cousin.

"Family are also the only ones who will bare the brunt of their truth to you," No matter how if affected the other person, so it would seem. "Even if you don't ask for it." Turning to the Stark featured man alongside him, the similarities running so deep that they could be blooded siblings. Silent amusement boiling in his veins, men of the North were often to the point and honest with their words, and here they were almost sharped to the point of a blade. Seeking a fight or someone to challenge their authority. The White Wolf could not sympathise with the men that had been sent here as a result from a crime, for what they had built here was all they had. To spend their remainder of their days in an icy tomb not of their choosing was not overly appealing. "Hitting his mother would probably have been less of an offence." The Stark agreed solemnly.

Catching his cheek thoughtfully between his teeth, running a gloved hand over his chin in frustrated thought. "Hopefully its done before it's too late." Help was of no use after the fact, still vividly recalling all the stories of ice bears and giant spiders that Old Nan used to reign down on the restless Stark children that refused to go to their slumber. His mother once told him that, all old myths came from an element of truth. Now that Direwolves and Dragons returned to the earth, what was to say that there was nothing else out there? What of the Children? With the bloodied faces still engraved in the trees glowing clearer with each passing storm, he had to wonder if they were returning to the earth with the creatures of old. "If we don't keep the troubles from breaching the Wall, there will be no Dorne." His chilled lips remarked, not unkindly. It was a fact, often brushed aside by others in the Crownlands. They were not here they did not see what was happening.

But now Matarys had, he saw for himself the extent that the Knights Watch were stretched, that the Starks themselves could not help them alone. Help was needed from the Capital. "Now your eyes have seen it for themselves, will you make mention of it to your father?" Sky coloured gaze implored his silently. "To impress upon him the importance?" While he was distraught for Queen Lyanna, how could he protect her, or seek to find her if Winter got to her before he, himself could. "Come, we can talk further on the ride home, before we ourselves freeze." Drawing his cloak closer to him, the inevitable chill still managed to creep hands under the length of the dark material. Turning to his cousin as they steered into the direction of the lift. The ride to Winterfell would hopefully be easier than the trek here was, to say the least. They didn't all have dragons to ferry them back to the warmth.

FINISH?

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