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Robb Stark

"This war is far from over."

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a character in “Crowns, Empires and Swords”, as played by Bromander Shepard

Description

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Name: Robb Stark

Age: 20
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Appearance & Build: Robb is a Stark and as such has the dark, guarded features his family is known for yet as from his mother who is a Tully Robb's hair has a hint of red to it. Robb has a stocky, muscular build, outweighing his cousin Jon by near fifteen pounds. He's a few inches taller than him as well. Beyond that he has the beginnings of a fiery beard growing in. He is often remarked to be handsome in a rugged sort of way, more than enough to make many a maiden swoon.

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Personality: Robb has developed a rather intense streak since the war. Originally he was rather carefree and relaxed yet after the sacking of Winterfell and the supposed deaths of his extended family Robb has grown darker and more aggressive. Quick to temper and prone to violence he seems constantly ready to fight at a moments notice. It is in the quiet moments, when he is around family that Robb finally allows himself to relax that a little of the boy he was still bubbles to the surface. He may crack a joke or tell a bawdy tale and the Robb he once was will be shown. Increasingly however he is the hardened warrior bent on ridding his land of any Khalidorian presence.

Despite his aggressive demeanor or even his care free attitude Robb has a deep seated honor code. Not as bound by it as say his father or cousin but he does try to stick to it as best he can. He struggles with "the right thing" when it seems to get in the way of him accomplishing a goal. He also has a deep hatred for Khalidor and all who live there.

Where they live: The North, Castle Black.

What/ who they are: Robb is the eldest son of Lord Eddard Stark and Lady Catelyn Tully-Stark.

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Robb Stark, eldest child and son of Lord Eddard Stark and Lady Catelyn Tully-Stark. Robb is a strong and fierce warrior with more brashness than his cousin Jon Stark. He is proud, noble and kind. A man who would make a wonderful anointed knight if he would take the oath but like so many Northerners feels it is unnecessary to kneel before some sept of The Seven to take a vow to do something he should already be doing as a man of House Stark. He keeps the gods of his father as opposed to his mothers. He sees Jon Stark, his cousin as more of a brother and spends more time with him than any of his siblings do.

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Ever since the war began and his uncle, the king and his cousins were killed Robb has had a rage inside him. He has become much more aggressive than he used to be and wants ever Khalidorian in The North dead. He took the loss of Jon the hardest. When he learned of his cousin's death Robb gave into grief and rage wanting the heads of every enemy soldier he could find. It took three days for Lord Eddard to track down his son. In that time Robb had carved a bloody path through the country side with his dire wolf Grey Wind at his side, he had taken the lives of dozens of Khalidorian's before he was reigned in.




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Skills:

- Swordsmanship- Robb is a brutally efficient fighter. He's trained since a young age with the master at arms in Winterfell to master the sword. He's a hard nosed fighter who doesn't shy away from blood and brings his foes down quickly.

- Battlefield Experience- Despite his age Robb has been fighting the Khalidorians since they first breached the Northern borders. He's been in one engagement or another since that day so his experience pool is quickly growing.

- Martial Prowess- Like most lordlings Robb and his brothers spend several hours each day training in the courtyard with Winterfell's Master at Arms training in the arts of war.

- Pain Threshold- Robb has an uncanny pain threshold. His first battle he broke his arm after being knocked from his horse and continued to fight until the battle was done.

- Command Potential- Robb Stark is skilled at leading squads of men into battle. Through his strength and fearlessness he can lead men into the jaws of defeat and snatch victory when others would fail.

- Reflexes/senses- Robb has developed amazing senses and reflexes

Other:
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So begins...

Robb Stark's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Robb Stark Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Clara 'Scarlet'  Stark
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Jon smiled as she grabbed the totem. The wolves of winter were returning. Their house words Winter is Coming, laid down to remind them of the sacrifices made during the Long Night and of trials yet to come. The Starks were survivors, they had endured so much and while others may be stronger or fiercer, the Starks would outlast them. For Starks were built for the winter. When the last of the leaves fall from the trees and the rivers freeze over, when gods fall and shields of men are torn asunder the wolves remain. Their howl was eternal and as the snows fell the wolves would come again. Jon felt proud and strong, ready to save his home with his family at his side.

"Blue, Your Grace?"

Lord Umber asked curiously. Jon turned to him and sighed with a smile.

"Aye, blue."






Podrick froze solid as her hands wrapped around him. His heart raced and his body stiffened yet he'd never felt happier or more terrified. Not just of Da'Karro but just to have her hold him. He felt dizzy and warm and for a moment he wasn't on a pirate ship. There wasn't a murderer prowling it's hold and he wasn't cold.

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He was in the sun with the cool spring breeze on his skin. The smile that touched his face was unlike ever he'd ever been blessed with. Clara hugged him and he wished she would never let him go.

Suddenly his mind snapped back as she let him go and he was back aboard the Harbinger with Da'Karro lurking nearby. She had promised to protect him but should he lose control again he feared what help she would be for either of them. He nodded to her respectfully and took a step back.

"M-Milady..."

He stammered out nervously.

"There is nothing to apologize for. It was an accident I'm certain. I uhh... I'm sure there is no reason to bother Mr. Da'Karro for an apology. Best let him be, I'd wager Milady."






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Robb Stark towered over the prisoner with the heavily muscled grey and black dire wolf Grey Wind at his side. He stood in an army camp holding cell. Quickly fashioned of wood and iron. In the center a wooden stake with a prisoner of war chained to it. A Khalidorian commander captured in a recent battle. The commander and his unit had been pillaging through the country side looking for signs of the resistance. He'd found more than he'd intended when Robb rode out of the wood at the head of twelve hundred men. Robb had crushed the Khalidorian force with ease and this was one of the few prisoners he'd taken. The Khalidorian glared up at him with eyes full of hate.

"You're looking for our den... You won't find it."

Robb warned. The Khalidorian chuckled weakly through blood stained teeth. He spat at the feet of Robb defiantly.

"Hide, run, it makes no difference. Khali guides us all, she leads us through our God King. What will your dog be worth then, boy?"

He spat. Robb clenched his jaw in anger at the older man's words. Testing the son of Eddard Stark was not wise, he was in a foul mood since the Khalidorian's killed his uncle and his uncles family. Jon's death was still so raw, it pained him. The older commander picked up on Robb's frustration and he snickered wickedly.

"What's the matter?... Don't like being called boy? Insulted?"

He asked savagely. Grey Wind growled viciously and the smile vanished from the commanders face and appeared on Robb's.

"You insult yourself, invader."

Grey Wind moved forward menacingly. His golden eyes hungry for the flesh of the nomads who took away his brother, the great white with the blood red eyes.

"You've been defeated by a boy..."

Grey Wind loomed over the Khalidorian commander, his jaws wet with hunger.

"You're held captive by a boy..."

Robb continued slowly, as Grew Wind snarled. His fangs gleamed in the dim light of the forest as the Khalidorian shook with terror.

"Perhaps you'll be killed by a boy."

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The Khalidorian commander didn't want to open his eyes. He didn't want to see those hungry golden eyes staring at him. Those jaws reaching for him with the big Northerner watching it all. He closed his eyes so tightly it hurt yet the jaws never came for him. The teeth never punctured his skin or tore at his flesh. He took a shuddering breath and opened his eyes slowly. The wolf was gone as was the armored master of the beast. Overcome with despair the Khalidorian Commander who'd laughed with glee as The North burned and it's people screamed broke down and wept. Alone in a cell with no one but the nameless, faceless gods of this foreign land to hear his lament.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amelia Targaryen Character Portrait: Arya Stark Character Portrait: Robb Stark Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Da'Karro Misantri Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of The Harbinger Character Portrait: Clara 'Scarlet'  Stark Character Portrait: Ajax Alexander Character Portrait: Queen Tenanye Ananse Character Portrait: William 'Will' Casey
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"Robb!"

Jon called from the distance as he jogged up ahead of Clara, Arya and the others. Robb had Captain Sheva by the throat, his dagger to her neck. He looked ready to open her throat and spill her blood all over the grass. Yet as soon as Jon's voice reached Robb's ears the man's entire demeanor changed. His gaze drifted over and locked onto Jon. His eyes went wide in disbelief. His mouth opened in a wordless gasp. The blade nearly slipped from his hand. His hold on the Captain lost it's grip as he seemed to forget she had a knife to him. He stared at Jon and stepped past the captain, completely enthralled by the ghost before him.

"Jon?..."

He muttered faintly as if he didn't dare speak his name aloud should he vanish into thin air. Jon smiled and stepped forward with a nod.

"Who else would it be?"

Jon asked sarcastically, covering the emotion of the reunion with humor. Robb chuckled weakly at the lame pun but moved forward and embraced the brother he'd lost.

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The brother he'd mourned and the brother he'd killed for. Robb couldn't fathom how it was possible but he didn't care. So much had been taken from him and his family. He'd finally gotten something back and he wasn't going to let him go.

"I thought you died."

Robb said in a husky, gruff tone that was meant to cover his own emotion. Jon shrugged in response.

"You should know we Stark's aren't easy to kill."

With that Jon took a step back and to the side revealing the northern beauty behind him. A tear came to Robb's eye as he looked upon her. Clara, his cousin, his sweet cousin. The one he'd heard had been taken at Winterfell. The one he'd lost the same day he'd lost Clara. For the first time his armor failed him. Robb had walled himself in a armor forged of anger and tempered with grief and was untouchable and powerful since Winterfell had been taken. Yet now, looking at Clara his armament was weak and brittle.

"C-Clara?..."

He said, his voice thick with joy. He reached out and pulled her into a strong hug. A hug that silently promised he'd never loose her again. He held her for a moment, just happy to have her back before he finally released her and stepped back. His one arm around her shoulders, the other hand on Jon's.

"You two... Where the hell have you been?"

He asked with a smile. Jon grinned back, looking from Clara back to Robb but before he could answer Arya did it for him.

"You have to wait. They've had a long journey Robb, don't pester them. Gods you're worse than Rickon."

Arya scolded, not about to have the news told to Robb when it was denied her. The Starks shared a laugh before Robb relented.

"Aye, fair enough. Over supper then."

His hard gaze flicked to Jon and Clara's company but rested on the pirate he'd had a knife to moments prior.

"Who're your friends?"

He asked, his eyes lingering on the dark beauty who matched him blade for blade.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amelia Targaryen Character Portrait: Arya Stark Character Portrait: Robb Stark Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Da'Karro Misantri Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of The Harbinger Character Portrait: Clara 'Scarlet'  Stark Character Portrait: Ajax Alexander Character Portrait: Queen Tenanye Ananse Character Portrait: William 'Will' Casey
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The blow came as a shock, to Robb as much as Jon. Robb took a step back from the blow, turning his cheek as his ears rung. He tasted blood as he turned to level a lethal gaze at the piratess, the truly frightening bit was that Robb had this grin on his face. A drop of blood mixed with saliva touched his lips, his eyes like a challenged wolf in the wild. His smile, daring but Jon worried as to what would come next. Robb touched his mouth with the back of his gloved hand to verify that the blow had done what he'd tasted it had done. Blood verified he looked up at her with a wicked half chuckle.

Jon didn't like this and took a step between the two.

"Captain I-"

Robb put a hand on him, cutting him off.

"It's alright. It was a clean blow."

He said, the wicked grin still on his face. He stepped forward and stood toe to toe with the captain as their eyes did a deadly dance.

"Credit where credit is due then. You can throw a punch, but that's the last one you get for free. Next one you pay for."

Robb's eyes were alive with fire in his bold warning. His eyes, matched Robyn's with every move. Only once did they break her stare, and that was when they drifted down her curves. Jon looked from the captain to Robb. He was a different man from last he'd seen him. He was less care free, less relaxed and much, much more intense. It was not that strange when Jon thought about it. While Jon was off gathering allies and sneaking into The North Robb was fighting a war. He'd always heard war changes a man, loss, more so. Robb had been neck deep in both.

"Well no one is punching anyone else today, so let's get moving."

Jon stated, ending the stare down. Robb turned to Jon almost in surprise that Jon had said anything. It was then Jon realized Robb wasn't the only one who'd changed. Jon was always the quiet one, reserved and brooding. While he still was those things he'd gained a more commanding nature and was willing and ready to step in when the situation called for it. In short, he was becoming a leader.

Robb looked at his cousin who he loved like a brother. Finally it dawning on him, the line of succession and Jon's birthright.

"Aye... Your Grace."

He said with a laugh. Jon shook his head and the two men led the pack, with Lord Umber coming to join them shortly. Arya walked along side the captain, staring up at her oddly. She had never seen a woman hit a man like that, least of all her brother. She'd seen Robb beat men twice his size so for a woman to strike him like that was amazing to her. She looked at the way Robyn walked and the way she swayed her hips. She watched how her hand rested on her cutlass that hung from her belt. Before long Arya picked up a stick and slid it through her belt loop to mimic the movement, imagining it was a sword and she was a pirate.

As Robb walked he threw his arm casually around Clara's shoulder as he so often used to do.

"You're going to have to tell me how my baby cousin threw in with a pirate."

He said with a smirk.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amelia Targaryen Character Portrait: Arya Stark Character Portrait: Robb Stark Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Da'Karro Misantri Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of The Harbinger Character Portrait: Clara 'Scarlet'  Stark Character Portrait: Ajax Alexander Character Portrait: Queen Tenanye Ananse Character Portrait: William 'Will' Casey
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While Robb and his cousin talked, Jon walked along side Amelia telling her of his home and enjoying her interest in it. He told her of The Children of The Forest whom she seemed so fascinated by and he told her of more current inhabitants whom she would be meeting once they arrived. There was his uncle, Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell. He was the youngest brother to the late king, Jon's father. Uncle Ned was dear to Jon, almost like a second father and a man who'd always looked out for Jon. She'd already met little Arya and bold cousin Robb. There was still the young ones, Bran and Rickon, and the beautiful Sansa. Jon figured she'd get along best with her.

"There it is."

Robb's voice snapped Jon from his chatter and he turned to look upon the place he'd only ever heard about. It was a squat keep of massive size. With high, thick walls of blackened and nameless wood mixed with stone at the base and ice filling it's seams giving it an almost glimmering quality to it. Large, dark spires rose up like blackened icy fingers, battlements too look out across the Isle of Faces for miles. Most of it appeared frozen or iced over yet judging from the countless fires rising from it's base it was probably warm and inviting within. Atop it's towers flew the grey dire wolf of House Stark, the sight nearly brought a tear to Jon's eye. A part of him thought he'd never see that banner fly again.

Jon proceeded at the head of the column, with Robb to his right, Lord Umber to his left and Amelia at his side. Clara was just behind him with Captain Sheva and Arya. Bringing up the rear was all the rest led by Ajax and Queen Tenanye. As they neared the wall shouts went out a horn called out, two blasts. Jon looked up at the horn blowers quizzically.

"Two blasts for rangers returning. Works just as well for kings I suppose."

Robb said as he leaned over and nudged Jon with his elbow. Robb and Jon shared a laugh and they proceeded through the great walls of Castle Black. In the courtyard they were greeted by a bustling community of Northerners. It wasn't just the army camp Jon expected it to be but there was women and children also. Refugees no doubt from fallen cities. Jon spied banners flapping in the breeze bearing the sigils of the great houses of The North. There was the Tully Trout and the Giant of House Umber, The merman of House Manderly and all the rest. One was surprisingly absent however and that was flayed man of House Bolton. Jon found it odd but shelved the curiosity to bring up later.

As they moved through the courtyard and neared the central keep the party was allowed to disperse some. The bulk of the force, Ajax's men were sent to the barracks to get some food, drink and rest should the require it. All their horses were taken to be shod, fed and brushed. The royals on the other hand, along with Captain Sheva and her two crew members were led into the Great Hall where they would meet with the Lord and current Warden of The North, Eddard Stark.

As they entered the massive great hall Jon took in the sight in awe. A massive hall so large a joust could be held within it's walls. Huge pillars built from the trunks of trees were positioned around the room for support of the roof. Each one carved with ancient depictions of battles from The Long Night. Long tables were set up for dining that ran sections of the room and huge hearth fires were placed at intervals between tables in the central walk way to grant much needed warmth and light. Torches lined the walls on iron scones shedding more fire light and bathing the hall in an orange hue. At the front was an ornate looking small table craved of the same blackened wood most of the castle was constructed of. It was carved in the shape of a trees roots with a great wolf prowling along it's length.

At it's head sat Lord Eddard Stark deep in war talks with the other lords. As they approached The Greatjon Lord Umber made the introduction.

"My Lord, apologies for the interruption but I bring guests. Allies of The North and two wayward Starks."

Lord Eddard looked up curiously and as his eyes fell on Jon and Clara they widened in shock. Jon and Clara smiled proudly at their uncle as he rose to his feet and Lord Umber continued.

"May I present the Lady Clara Stark of New Castle and Jon Stark of Winterfell, The King of The North."

Lord Eddard Stark slowly moved around the table, saying not a word. It was as if the older warrior didn't believe his eyes. All eyes of the gathered lords were on the two thought dead Starks, especially he who was to be their king. Eddard neared them, staring at their faces in disbelief. He approached the two of them as they stood shoulder to shoulder, both younger Starks looking at their uncle with pride.

"Hello Uncle."

Jon said finally with a smile. Eddard embraced them both, bringing them into a warm hug. Gods only knew how much he'd missed these two. How much he'd felt he'd failed them in that he couldn't protect them and how blessed he felt now to have them back. After a tender moment he released them and took a step back.

"How?"

He said, his voice shaky with joy.

"I found them in the woods."

Arya offered in explanation. Jon arched an eyebrow at the young girl with a chuckle.

"I thought I found them."

Lord Umber said looking down at Arya.

"Shut up."

Arya replied flatly. Eddard smiled at his daughter but turned back to Jon and Clara, practically beaming with joy.

"Important thing is you're back. That's all that matters."

Jon's face grew sullen and dark as Robb's jaw clenched in frustration, the cousins sharing their disagreement with Eddard's words. There was still a war to fight and deaths to avenge.

"That's not all that matters."

Jon said in a husky tone. Lord Eddard's face grew somber but nodded in agreement.

"Aye. I suppose your right, Your Grace."

The title took Jon as a shock to be hearing it from his uncle but after he spoke the words the lords around rose and knelt before Jon. Eddard and Robb knelt last, Robb with a smirk and wink to his cousin. Jon felt uncomfortable to say the least but also proud to be seen in such high regard by his family and country men. Jon quickly gave them leave to rise, not wishing to prolong the awkwardness any longer.

"Guess we finally have a head to put that ugly old crown on now, eh?"

Came a voice Robb had not heard in years.

"Uncle Blackfish. "

Jon said happily as he went to embrace the man. Ser Brynden Tully was an older warrior whose fought in nearly every war in The North and beyond since he was old enough to carry a sword. He was an incredibly experienced and skilled soldier with a blunt, logical way about him that was refreshing. He had been called Blackfish ever since he refused to marry a lords daughter after his second war feeling he shouldn't be told who and when to marry. He had been branded Blackfish by his older brother, Lord Hoster Tully and carried the name proudly ever since. He had been close with both Jon and Clara for years, often taking them on long fishing trips in the river lands and despite not actually being their blood uncle he was an uncle to them all the same.

"It's good to see you lad."

He replied happily before picking Clara up in a warm hug.

"And you too child, my you've grown more beautiful than I could've imagined."

Setting her down he stood beside Lord Eddard as Robb came to stand beside him as well.

"Guess this calls for a feast father. It's not every day a king returns from the dead."

Eddard nodded with a smile.

"Agreed, you must all be hungry."

With a word Lord Eddard set to having a feast prepared for the entire party. While the hall was being prepared and the food was cooked he turned back to the company before him. His eyes fell over the pirate and the beast, the fae, the giant and the silver haired queen.

"And who are our guests?"

He asked.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amelia Targaryen Character Portrait: Arya Stark Character Portrait: Robb Stark Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Da'Karro Misantri Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of The Harbinger Character Portrait: Clara 'Scarlet'  Stark Character Portrait: Ajax Alexander Character Portrait: Queen Tenanye Ananse Character Portrait: William 'Will' Casey
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Arya sighed loudly as Clara put her hands on her shoulders. Everyone was always asking after Sansa. How old is Sansa now? How does she get her hair so smooth? Sansa's so pretty. Sansa's so graceful. Sansa's so everything Arya was not. It was enough to make her sick. Arya pulled away from Clara and put her hand on her hip, standing much in the same way the pirate captain was. She liked the stance. It made her feel powerful and in charge. She liked the idea of being a pirate. Having a sword and sailing the seas and doing whatever she wanted, not having to practice her needle work or where those stupid dresses her sister loved so much.

"Hell if I know."

She replied to her cousin with a shrug.

"Arya!"

Lord Eddard chided, in embarrassment. Robb walked over and flicked his little sister in the shoulder causing her to suck her teeth in pain.

"Watch your mouth, squirt."

He said, playing the disapproving older brother. She never understood why he did that.

"Why? Cause I said hell?"

He flicked her again and again she sucked her teeth.

"Ow! Quit it!"

"Stop cursing."

He said with a shrug. She rubbed her shoulder with her other hand, easing some of the sting out of it.

"Why? You curse."

Robb shrugged again, folding his arms across his broad chest.

"I have a beard. When you grow a beard you can curse all you want."

"You call that a beard?"

Jon asked with a smirk. Robb arched an eyebrow as he smiled and punched Jon in the shoulder, playfully. Arya folded her arms over her little bust as her brother had done, thoroughly displeased.

"I can grow a beard if I wanted."

To that her big brother chuckled heartily.

"Good luck with that."

He turned from her and to the royals gathered.

"I'll show you lot to where you'll be staying."

As he looked to the guests his eyes rested on the pirate captain. Arya caught his stare and couldn't figure out why men looked at women like that. He looked ready to bite her or something. Boys were idiots.

Her fathers hands appeared on her shoulders where Clara's had been moments prior, she could feel his gaze on her. She was probably in trouble again.

"Sansa is in the sept Clara. Ser Brynden can take you both. I'm sure you want to see her as well Jon."

He said.

"I do."

Jon replied as he turned with Clara to follow behind the Blackfish to go visit her oh so lovely, oh so perfect sister.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amelia Targaryen Character Portrait: Robb Stark Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Da'Karro Misantri Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of The Harbinger Character Portrait: Clara 'Scarlet'  Stark Character Portrait: Ajax Alexander Character Portrait: William 'Will' Casey
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Robb turned to Robyn, her brashness and fearlessness was admirable. He'd never had a woman talk to him like that. For that matter he'd never met a woman like that. It was oddly enticing. A man could only meet enough meek, polite ladies before he wanted to eat his sword. Yet this Robyn Sheva was something else entirely. Something told him he'd be repaying that punch of hers sooner rather than later.

"Right this fucking way then."

He shot back at her as he walked past her. He led the giant, the fae, the silver haired queen and the pirates out of the great hall through a series of halls until he reached the guest quarters. A long hall way with countless rooms. Each room was larger than most homes and would serve well as living quarters for Jon's allies.

"Pick a room. You can get some rest if you want. Or take a walk, get something to eat..."

Robb said with a shrug.

"Castles open to you."

The Targaryen Queen thanked Robb graciously and entered her room to get some rest. The giant did the same, leaving Robb alone with the pirates. He arched an eyebrow and looked at all three of them. The man with the gauntlet had an odd look to him. Not a warrior type Robb was familiar with but judging from the Kukri lashed to his back he figured him for a skilled fighter. Not many carried that kind of blade who didn't know how to wield it, it was no novices weapon. The other male pirate was staring a hole through Robb to which he found amusing. The man wasn't unfit but seemed slim. Robb easily out weighed him by twenty or so pounds of muscle. Robb gave him a challenging nod to let him be fully aware he wasn't a man to be stared down for long.

"I'm going into the yard, I feel the need to hit something. You three are welcome to join me if you're feeling brave. If not..."

Again he shrugged, honestly not caring what these three chose to do with their time before supper. He turned and walked off down the hall, heading for the courtyard and the training grounds there within.






Ser Brynden Tully led Jon and Clara down a veritable maze of long, cool corridors, dimly lit with sconces. Jon was amazed how big Castle Black was on the inside. He never imagined the infamous keep from the legends he'd been told was so massive. With so many chambers and antechambers Jon could walk for hours and not see the whole of it. As they walked Blackfish spoke casually with them. He told them of how his uncle Eddard had called the banners shortly after escaping Winterfell. He told them of how all the great houses met in the wolfs wood but the Bolton's who'd defected to the enemy. The news angered Jon. That betrayal would not go unpunished. When Jon was finished with Wanhope he would march his army to The Dread Fort and hang Roose Bolton for his treason. For now there was nothing for it, he would not be commanding an army from a sept.

The sept was at the end of the hall and was fantastically designed. With windows that spanned the walls and ceiling it bathed the room in natural, icy light making the entire sept shine. An etching of the Seven Pointed Star of the Faith of The Seven was carved into the glass at the head of the room where the pulpit lay. Candles graced the room in the dozens granting it warmth and added light. The room had seven walls, forming a heptagon. Each wall had an altar for a different god of the faith. The Father, The Warrior, The Smith, The Mother, The Maiden, The Crone and finally The Stranger. The Stark they sought was knelt before the depiction of The Mother.

As they neared the entrance Blackfish paused and ushered them to continue so Jon and Clara made their way in as Sansa prayed quietly. Jon could just barley make out her soft voice saying the words to the hymm.

"Gentle Mother, font of mercy,
Save our sons from war, we pray.
Stay the swords and stay the arrows,
Let them know a better day.
Gentle Mother, strength of women,
Help our daughters through this fray.
Soothe the wrath and tame the fury,
Teach us all a kinder way.
Gentle Mother, font of mercy,
Save our sons from war, we pray.
Stay the swords and stay the arrows,
Let them know a better day."

Jon smiled warmly at the prayer. He'd heard it many times in Winterfell, his mother recited it often. He stepped forward and spoke, his voice soft as to not startle her.

"Sansa..."

Sansa's body stiffened. She did not turn around right away yet Jon could hear her breath catch in a gasp. She recognized his voice but refused to admit he was real. She thought he was dead, she wasn't prepared for her prayers to be answered so swiftly. Slowly she rose and turned, tears already streaming down her soft cheeks. Her bright blue eyes locked on the cousins she'd lost.

"Jon?... Clara?..."

She asked in a shaky voice, barely holding back her tears. Jon walked to her as her arms reached out tentatively to grasp him, unsure if he was real. He pulled her in and she wept on his chest, near to collapse. Jon held her close, he wouldn't let her fall, his strength held her up.

"Oh Jon! Jon you died! They killed you! You were gone!"

She wept. He hushed her gently, caressing her hair with his hand.

"I'm here Sansa. I'm here now."

He said gently as he held her. Sansa was always a gentle heart. She wasn't like Robb or her sister. She never had that sort of strength, but she was strong in her own way. She had a strength Jon could never have. The strength to wait while her brothers and father and uncles rode off to war and wait. To be left behind and pray for them. To bear sleepless nights wondering if she would be an orphan or an only child. The courage to hold onto hope and pray for a better day. In that way, even as she wept in his arms Jon knew that Sansa Stark was the strongest of them all.

After a moment he pulled himself away and Sansa turned to Clara. She tried to speak but had no words. She embraced the cousin she saw as a sister and held her close.

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Character Portrait: Arya Stark Character Portrait: Robb Stark Character Portrait: Da'Karro Misantri Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of The Harbinger Character Portrait: Clara 'Scarlet'  Stark Character Portrait: William 'Will' Casey
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Robyn briefly watched Robb walk off. There was something about him, something she couldn't quite place but she both like and disliked it.

He was no different the most men, a little wider given his class, about her height, which for a man was rather average, Hell both Da'Karro and Casey had her by about seven inches, She was tall by any standard, he was handsome, but again so where the two men behind her.

Nothing physically set him apart, and yet, something was different.

She shook it off.

"Well, find yourselves something do." She said and walked ahead, keeping her back to them, as she searched for a room.

She opened the door to a large one, no larger then the others but dwarfed her cabin on the ship. She couldn't possibly know what to do with so much space.

She walked up to the large window, and looked out, she could see the training grounds from where she was and saw Robb as he entered into it.

She felt a presence behind but didn't turn her gaze.

"What is it, Casey?" She said, folding her arms, still facing the window but not really looking out it.

"Can we talk?" He asked closing the door behind him.

"Words are leaving your lips, so yes, you are capable." She said shortly.
Casey sighed. "I'm sorry, Robyn! How many times do I have to tell you that?"

"Until you're fucking blue in the face..." She said, glaring daggers at him. "I couldn't help it, I told you that."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

Casey sighed, "No, but it's the truth, She was right there. So I grabbed her, if that had been Scarlet you wouldn't be this way?" He said and Robyn darted forward, grabbing him by the collar.

"It wasn't Scarlet, It was a fucking Fae who can heal herself, William, and it wasn't just any Fae, it was the one that tortured me, had me shivering in pain for weeks, the one I brought aboard my ship to save you, and that's how you repaid me, by saving her."

Casey looked away. "....I couldn't help it..." He said and Robyn let him go and brush pass him. "See yourself out, I feel like hitting something." She said echoing Robb's words, out of spite, she could see Casey's jealousy from the start and now she didn't care whether it hurt him or not.

"I have her blood, I'm Fae now." He called to her, as she reached the door, she paused, but didn't turn.

She closed her eyes. She knew, she's always known, at least a part of her did. That's how she rationalized his actions but she couldn't forgive it...if it had been any other Fae...then maybe but he was Tenanye's now. That Storm proved that.

Without a word, she walked out and made her way to the training ground.




Clara embraced her fair haired cousin tenderly. Neither of them had the words to speak and no were needed. She held on to her, her arms wrapped around her tight, her fingers intangled in her hair.

"We're alright now. How we were seperated matters not. We're together now." She whispered, pressing a kiss to her temple, and pulled her back, brushing her tears from her pale cheeks. "This is a happy occasion." She said, and smiled brightly, though tears still glossed her eyes and she had to sniff a few times. "So no more tears, yeah?" She said with a nod.

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"No more tears."

Sansa said happily. She carefully dotted her cheeks with the tips of her fingers, cautious not to mar her already running make up. Jon looked at his cousins proudly. They'd both grown so much from how he remembered them. Clara, the little girl who used to drag him to the beach to play in the surf. Sansa, the little girl who always had so much love for everyone she met. They'd both grown into beautiful, strong women. He was honored to call them family.

"Is Ghost with you?"

Sansa asked turning to Jon. Jon suddenly realized that the stealthy white dire wolf was not by his side. It was not uncommon for him to wander off and given how this is the first time he'd been back with his litter mates it was not surprising he was off with them doing gods knew what.

"He is. I'm sure he's around here some where."

Sansa's face lit up at Jon's response.

"Good. Lady's been in a mood of late. I think it's because Robb likes to take the others with him when he goes out with the men but Lady doesn't like that sort of thing. The killing I mean..."

She said, somewhat forlornly when she thought of the lives her brother and the men that rode with him took when they went out. Jon put an arm around her warmly as the three Stark's began to head out of the sept.

"That's no bad thing. Not wanting to take a life. She has a gentle spirit, not unlike you."

He reassured her. His words seemed to soothe her worry some and she linked her arm through Clara's as he led them from the sept.

"Where are they boys?"

Jon asked. As he walked beside his two beautiful cousins, the way Clara and Sansa moved they were practically gliding over the stone floor of the hall. Even with Clara wearing those big boots she barely made a sound with her graceful steps. Then there was Sansa who in her wonderfully, hand stitched dress, barely seemed to touch the ground at all. It made Jon feel loud and clumsy as his heavy boots pounded the floor behind them with each step. Girls had a way of making him feel oafish. The thought brought a smile to his face as he walked.

"With mother in the study. I'll take you."

She offered politely. Jon sighed internally. He and Lady Catelyn never really got on. This meeting was not one he was looking forward to but perhaps coming back from the dead would earn him a few sympathy points.






Meanwhile, in the Court Yard of Castle Black, the training ground was alive with the sound of men working their skills with the sword, short sword and shield, spear, axe, hammer, maul and more. Warriors of the North, proud men of the cold and snow tested their might against one another as well as training dummies. One warrior was possibly the finest of them all, as well as cousin to the king.

Robb Stark's sword rung as it struck steel on steel. He had been sparring with one of the soldiers but when one wasn't enough he'd went to two, then three, then six. When he'd grown tired of embarrassing his own men he set to hacking away at a wooden training dummy, trying out new positions and kill strikes. While he worked his sister sat on a hay cart, wearing a soldiers helmet she'd picked up. She lazily poked at the edges of the cart with her stick as her brother worked at his training.

"When's it going to be my turn?"

She asked, the boredom heavy in her voice. Robb was breathing heavy, training in his plate mail and leather was good practice for the real thing and it taught a man how to ignore the added weight. His blade flashed in the sun as it parried unseen enemies and stabbed hay targets with expert precision.

"Your turn for what?"

He asked between stabs.

"My turn to practice."

Robb spun and took the arm off the dummy in a single clean swing before he buried his sword in the target on it's chest. He turned with a few beads of sweat dripping from his brow and gave his little sister a smile.

"Want to sword fight do you?"

"YES! Gods, what do you think I've been waiting for? The dummy to turn into a dragon and roast your ass?"

She asked as she hopped off the cart. Robb laughed heartily as he grabbed a nearby broom and turned it round so he could use it as a practice sword.

"Alright then, come on dragon slayer."

He said with a grin as he lowered himself.

"How come I can curse now? You plucked me before."

She asked with a smirk as she removed her big billowy cloak that would only serve to get in her way.

"Cause father's not here. You think I want to get plucked?"

He replied smartly. His sister smiled excitedly as she rushed at him, stick ready to skewer him. He easily tapped it aside and popped her in the rear to which she yelped in surprise.

"Are we jousting or sword fighting? Don't charge like that."

He teased as his sister laughed and swung at him again and again, giggling as she tried to fell the dragon that was her big brother.

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Character Portrait: Arya Stark Character Portrait: Robb Stark Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of The Harbinger Character Portrait: Clara 'Scarlet'  Stark
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Robyn had made her way down to the training ground where she saw the little girl, Ayra attacking her brother. Robyn just watched them for a moment, her sour mood fading some at the sight.

"You know, it would have if you didn't fight like a man." She said, after a moment, leaning against the wall with her arms folded. She pushed her self off the wall, she grabbed a wooden practice sword, testing a few of them before she found the one that most suited little Ayra's weight and height. " Men are always so clunky with their movements," She said, running her hands over the smoothed wood before turning her head to them. " We as women are a lot lighter out of feet, and much faster, We always have the upper hand." She said and walked over to them. She gave the girl the practice sword. "Use your quickness, and you're attacks will come naturally." She said and gestured to her brother. "Try it."



Clara listened with a soft smile as Jon and Sansa spoke, she recalled a similar conversation between herself and Da'Karro, about how she hated death, and killing. She sighed to herself. She hadn't really had time to spend with him anymore, and she never got a chance to talk to him about his manic outbursts on the ship. She could tell when they were walking that he was not enjoying himself, he wasn't happy here, and it pained her. She was home and he was with her. It should have been the best thing she's ever seen but it wasn't, and it didn't help that he and Jon would seem never to see eye to eye, Gods be good should Jon ever tell Robb about Da'Karro. Jon was a lot more reserved then Robb and Robb, wasn't exactly his relaxed, laid back self, he seemed to be looking for a fight, and thankfully he found one in the Captain, and not Da'Karro, she didn't even want to imagine such a thing, it gave her shivers.

She'd talk to Da'Karro tonight, they need some time alone and she missed being in his arms.

With that, they made their way to see their Aunt and her youngest of their cousins. She could see in Jon's face that he was not looking forward to this, she knew the history, and while she loved her aunt, she would not stand for her speaking ill words to Jon, not after the hell they've all been through, especially about something that happened ages ago.
"I can't wait to see the boys." She said happily, pushing her dark thoughts behind her.

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Character Portrait: Arya Stark Character Portrait: Robb Stark Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of The Harbinger Character Portrait: Clara 'Scarlet'  Stark
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Robb's eyes were glued to the sultry piratess as she snaked away from the wall and as she talked about a woman's skill over a man's. Arya seemed to eat up every word she spoke like sweet nectar. It made him happy to see his sister so enthused and encouraged. Arya always had a thing for strong female role models. Not like their mother who was little more than an adult Sansa as far as little Arya was concerned but warrior women. She even named her dire wolf after a fabled warrior princess called Nymeria.

Robb had to admit, Robyn had a point as far as tweaking Arya's movements. Arya could never learn to fight like a man, but that didn't mean she couldn't learn to fight. She was too small to use her body to push her opponent back, two weak of arm to batter them out of a guard. Yet speed could in theory counter act strength if used well enough. In Robb's experience though dancing around an opponent really only served to prolong the inevitable.

Arya faced her brother, holding her wooden sword lightly in her hand. She balanced it in her delicate fingers deftly, keeping the weight fluid and off her thin wrist. So different from Robb's sturdy stance with the sword out in front of him, ready to bring down hard blows. She looked at him and she lunged, darting in. Robb smiled and parried. She was faster this time, he was impressed.

"Quickly now."

He urged her. She gritted her teeth and tried harder, moving in and out faster and faster but getting no further past his guard. With each deflected he paid her in kind with a quick slap to the thigh with the broom stick. The blows were light but no doubt stung enough to cause her to think twice about sloppy, uncoordinated strikes. Arya went to move in again but hesitated, fearing another counter blow. Robb knew if she was to become a swordsman she would need to shed her fear.

"Quick as a snake. Fear cuts deeper than swords."

He told her, using lessons taught to him when he was a boy and too small to bully his way through a fight. Arya reset and lashed out again, striking like a little viper with wooden fangs. Her stick slapped his knuckle and she looked up at him stunned. He smiled at her proudly before he brought his blade up slowly.

"Swift as a deer. Fear cuts deeper than swords."

He told her as he brought the broom handle down. She darted out of the way, prancing effortlessly. She went to strike at him but he'd turned on her already and quickly tapped her knees. She yelped and hopped back, rubbing her knee. He stepped toward her, his broom stick raised. He wanted her to be fearless, tough and ready for more.

"Fierce as a wolverine. Fear cuts deeper than swords."

He told her, forcing her to parry or get a nice pop from the broom stick. To her credit she fought back, harder. She jumped, reaching for his head but he caught her wrist, holding her at arms length. Her little legs dangling in the air. She looked at him defeated but as far as Robb was concerned a she wolf should not be defeated so easily.

"Strong as a bear. Fear cuts deeper than swords."

He told her. Arya brought up her little legs and kicked her big brother in the gut causing him to drop her. She fell to the ground, scrambled on her hands and knees for her sword, whirled around and looked at the tip of the broom stick, pointed at her nose. She sighed in defeat as her brother helped her to her feet.

"You did well."

He said with pride.

"Well? I lost."

She said somewhat defeated. He flicked her shoulder causing to suck her teeth at the sting and look up at him.

"Then next time don't lose. Every defeat is a lesson and every lesson makes us stronger."

Arya considered her brothers words, took them in and seemed to accept the lesson. She grinned fiercely as she gripped her sword.

"I'm going to go practice on Bran!"

She said excitedly before running off. Robb laughed, a part of him feeling bad for the whooping little Bran was about to receive. Then the lords son and the pirate stood alone on the practice ring, he gave her an eyebrow and turned away from her.

"Women are a lot lighter, aye that's a fact."

He said aloud as he casually grabbed a practice sword.

"And faster... Aye that's true too. You're also more flexible. You forgot that. You also forgot that I have a longer reach."

Then he grabbed a second practice sword and threw it at her.

"So ... Care to pit your flexibility against my reach?"

Robb asked as he readied himself with a daring grin.






"They can't wait to see you I'm sure. No doubt they've already heard of your arrival by now."

Sansa said as she led them up the stairs and to the study. She knocked softly once, waited to hear her mothers voice.Even after all these years the sound of Lady Starks voice still made Jon nervous. Sansa pushed open the door and no more than two steps into the room than did two little bundles of energy come darting at them. Bran and Rickon Stark, the youngest of the Stark children ran to them, happy to be reunited with their cousin they thought they'd never see again. They tackled Clara to the ground, showering her with affection as Jon looked on with a laugh. His eyes slowly rose up to their mother who approached significantly more reserved.

"Your Grace."

Lady Catelyn Tully-Stark bowed graciously to Jon, with all the respect due a king. Jon reached out a hand quickly motioned for her to rise.

"Please, Lady Catelyn, there's no need. It's only me."

She rose and gave him a polite smile.

"Only you?"

She asked with what madly appeared to Jon as a playful smile. Was she actually being kind to him? He must have been more tired than he thought or maybe being dead did help her view of him.

"I am pleased you are well, Your Grace. We'd heard the worst."

She said. Jon sighed with a shrug.

"You'd heard right."

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Character Portrait: Arya Stark Character Portrait: Robb Stark Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of The Harbinger Character Portrait: Clara 'Scarlet'  Stark
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Robb grinned, already enjoying the sparring session. He was fast, she was faster. She was strong, he was stronger. Every inch he pushed she gained instantly. Every advantage she gained he stole back in turn. Their feet moved around, masterfully step for step giving ground and taking it as they did their dance of steel. Robb hadn't had an opponent this skilled in years. She was probably as good as Jon if not better. She moved with deadly grace and uncanny speed. She countered Jon's size and strength by dancing effortlessly out of the way of his more powerful swings, giving his sword nothing to bite into besides air. When she did he had to recover quickly or taste the sting of her sword.

Her sword came for his shoulder after he missed his swing. He didn't have time to bring his blade up so he dipped back allowing her sword to whiz past him. He could feel the wind on his face as the metal sung past his face. He slashed at her midsection only for her to leap back, just out of reach. He pushed forward, his sword pulled back ready for a strong lunge. He dove for her, expecting her to jump back again. To his surprise she held her ground, bringing up her boot and kicking him square in the chest. The blow sent him back, skidding in the snow. He put his free hand to his chest as he grimaced in pain and surprise yet his smile only widened. She came for him, looking to follow up from her kick. She came down for an over head strike but Robb moved in and caught her arm. In one swift motion he pivoted his body so he could hip toss her to the ground. To her credit she recovered quickly, hitting the ground in a roll and coming up in a crouch.

She was good, very good. Her foot work was masterful and her form was excellent. Robb may have to rethink his feelings on speed over strength after this.

"So tell me, is it good for you? I'm not too rough am I?"

Robb asked with a mischievous smirk as he rushed in with a six strike combination that she parried. She was faster than him but his blows were ringing her sword with each strike.






Arya sprinted up the stairs, bounding two stairs at a time. Her wooden practice sword in her hand she moved with grace and speed.

"Swift as a deer."

She told her self between breaths. She reached the landing to the study and saw Jon standing there with Clara and the boys. She'd have to strike fast if she was to catch Bran unawares.

"Quick as a snake."

She whispered to herself as her little chest heaved in and out from the hard run. She dove into the room, much to Jon and Clara's surprise. Her wooden sword was raised high in the air as she charged in shouting at the top of her lungs.

"Fierce as a wolverine!"

She whacked Bran with the stick hard in the arm and he hollered in surprise and pain as her mother gasped. She hadn't seen her mother from the hall.

"Arya Stark!"

She barked in a scolding tone. Arya froze, her mothers voice cracked like a whip. Bran threw himself at her, his little fists ready to pound her but two strong hands gripped them both by the back of their collars and separated them before she had to teach Bran what else she'd learned today.

"That's enough, both of you. What is going on?"

Jon asked, sounding all authoritative which was so unlike him.

"I'm a pirate. I have to hone my skills if I'm going to have my own ship one day."

Arya explained. Jon arched an eyebrow and exchanged a knowing glance with Clara. Her mother however only had eyes for her, like always. She marched over, crouched before her and snatched her sword away.

"You are no such thing. You are a little lady and you have no business playing with swords. Least of all using them on your brother."

She scolded harshly. Arya glared at her defiantly, pulling away from her.

"Well I don't wan't to be a lady!"

Her mother stared at her in shock and anger.

"Arya, you can't talk to mother that way."

Sansa said stepping forward.

"Shut up!"

Arya snapped.

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Character Portrait: Arya Stark Character Portrait: Robb Stark Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of The Harbinger Character Portrait: Clara 'Scarlet'  Stark
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"So tell me, is it good for you? I'm not too rough am I?"

Robyn kept his sword at bay, the steel sparking in protest , as Robyn gave a chuckle. "Hardly, I can take alot." She sneered, as she pushed forward only for him to push back, both of them struggling against the other. Never before has she been so evenly matched. Casey was second only to her, she bested him all too often. Robb Stark was entirely different, she could tell by the sweat that dotted his brow he was not holding back either, just enough to to kill her but it was the same with her, she wasn't trying to kill him, just trying to win, and effort that made her own brow slick with sweat.

She decided enough was enough, she kicked his foot out from under him, taking him by surprise, as he went down, before she had time to bring down her blade he grabbed her by the top of her corset, just underneath the swells of her chest, taking her down with him, and turning his hips so that he stood over top of her, knocking her sword from her hands. He had some smart remark to say about his current position, and Robyn grinned, before surging forward, sending her forehead into his nose, a dagger at his throat, snow clinging to her dark hair as it hovered over him, "No, no, I'm always on top." She said, breathlessly just before realizing, he had a dagger to her stomach.

She had to laugh, Just like before, they were stuck at a stale mate.

Just as Jon and Clara arrived.



Clara gasped as Ayra came in, swatting poor Bran with a wooden sword. Jon thankfully stopped the ifght and asked what came over her.

" "I'm a pirate. I have to hone my skills if I'm going to have my own ship one day."
Clara closed her hand over her face. My Gods.... She thought looking to Jon who returned her look.

The Captain...

Clara knew that Arya would love the Captain as much as she did. It was hard not to and Clara had gone in done something similar when she learned how to steal without being noticed. She had stolen Mr. Rathman's dagger and she probably would have kept it had Da'Karro not told her to give it back. The poor fool still didn't know she took it.

Clara looked away as Arya and her Mother clashed as so often she'd witnessed before, then Sansa stepped in.

Seeing this going no where good, Clara decided that it was best if they all got a little space.

"Arya, Why don't we go see what everyone's up to? There is some one I want you to meet." She said thought she clearly already met her. She walked over to her and took her hand and walked out, before giving the Lady and gracious bow.

"So I take it you've met the Captain?" She said with a smile. "and she was in the training grounds." She said and grinned. " Let's go watch her train." She said and the two took off toward the training ground.
and to get much more then they bargained for. "Oh Dear..." Clara said, a blush reddening her face, half looking , half looking away. She noticed Jon had come up behind them . " Um, Jon.... Could you..." She said wanting to cover both her and Ayra's eyes, gesturing to the very compromising position her cousin and her captain was in.

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Character Portrait: Arya Stark Character Portrait: Robb Stark Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of The Harbinger Character Portrait: Clara 'Scarlet'  Stark
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The kick surprised him, he hadn't been expecting it and was too slow to avoid it. So Robb went down but as he fell his hand shot out grabbing a handful of leather and cloth. He could feel the laces of her corset become undone in his grasp as she tumbled down with him. With a quick thrust of his hips and a tug he spun her around so she was beneath him. He quickly batted her sword away and stood victorious. With Robyn on her back, her dark hair astray in the snow, looking up at him Robb couldn't help but savor the sight with a wide grin.

"Looks like I'm on top."

He said impishly. She flashed him a daring smile before she surged up. She caught him in the nose with a quick head butt that watered his eyes from the impact, allowing her to reverse their positioning. His hand went to his belt and his dagger cleared it's sheath as his back slammed into the snow.

"No, no, I'm always on top."

She replied breathlessly. He looked up at her and marveled at the sight. Her long wavy black hair was touched with snow. Her corset was nearly undone and she was breathing heavy as sweat dotted her brow. Her chest heaved from the exertion and Robb drank in the view. She looked down and noticed his blade at her stomach and let loose a hearty laugh that Robb shared.

"All that bold talk and we both end up sweaty and out of breath. I'm just surprised that I'm the one on my back."

He joked.

"Having fun you two?"

Jon's voice cut the mood like ice water after a hot bath. Robb and Robyn picked themselves up but neither seemed ashamed or embarrassed so much as still riding the waves of enjoyment from their duel.

"How long were you there?"

Robb asked as he brushed some snow off himself.

"Not long. See you two are getting on nicely."

Robb turned to Robyn and gave her an approving look.

"Yeah, well....she's not so bad. Good fighter. Better than you."

Robb replied, trying to be as casual as possible considering the compromising position his cousins and little sister just found him in. Jon just chuckled and shook his head as he turned to Clara looking thoroughly amused.

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"All that bold talk and we both end up sweaty and out of breath. I'm just surprised that I'm the one on my back." He said and Robyn smirked, enjoying the feel of him underneath her. She could feel his muscular form between her thighs"I'm not." She said

"Having fun you two?"

Jon's voice called, breaking her concentration. Robyn pulled herself from his cousin, leaning down, her hair brushing against his face as she got up. She then adjusted her corset, not really caring that there were two girls and a King watching her. She was still reeling from the duel and she could tell Robb still was too. She's never dueled anyone that could match her blow for blow. It was- dare she say it- fun.

"How long have you been there?" Robb asked and Robyn arched an eyebrow, she had no shame, but apparently he did but kept it from his face. Robyn knew better, no one asked a question like that without thoughts buzzing through their heads.

"Not long. See you two are getting on nicely." Jon commented. Robb turned to her, and she tilted her head, curious about what he was going to say next, after the look he gave her.

""Yeah, well....she's not so bad. Good fighter. Better than you." He said and Robyn nodded.

"Better than most." She corrected. "But, he's got stamina, not many men have that." She said and went to pick up her cutlass, it was dulled a bit, she noticed as she examined it and she shook her head some. It took quite the beating. She turned her head some, with her back facing the Starks.

This Robb Stark was something else.

She dragged the blunt edge against it's sheath before slipping it inside. She ran her fingers through her hair, shaking out the snow, and dusting off her long floor length coat, she turned and walked pass them her coat billowing behind her.

" Captain, where are you going?" Clara asked. " My quarters, just there." She said and pointed to the window the over looked the training grounds. "Knock before entering, I might not be decent." She said, before disappearing inside.

Clara looked at Jon. Clearly, the comment was not meant for either of them, though Ayra looked as if she wanted to go, so she gently nudged her in the Captain's direction with a smile.

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Robb Stark watched Robyn leave. He would've rather she stuck around but watching her walk away was a treat in and of itself. So captivated by the sight he was he didn't notice his father approach from behind him.

"Uncle Eddard."

Jon said in greeting, snapping Robb from his sight seeing.

"The feast is prepared, if you're ready."

He said causally. Jon was famished as was Robb after that work out, even Arya's little stomach was gurgling in complaint.

"Good, let's go eat."

Jon said as the Stark's all turned to head in.

"I'd warn you. Your new bannermen look ready to drink their fill tonight. A king returned from the dead is a special occasion."

His uncle said with a wry smile. Jon chuckled and Robb grinned, a good drink was just what he needed. Lord Eddard turned to Clara as his gaze flicked between her and Arya.

"Clara, do you think you could Arya get dressed for dinner? And keep her away from anything sharp. I heard what happened with Bran."

Arya fidgeted under her fathers gaze but he merely smiled knowing as Clara knew that no one was ever going to make Arya be anything other than Arya.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amelia Targaryen Character Portrait: Arya Stark Character Portrait: Robb Stark Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of The Harbinger Character Portrait: Clara 'Scarlet'  Stark
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**Prepare for super long post, have to catch up with three characters. And as before control of Amelia approved by Tv Addict**

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Arya and Clara took their leave from the courtyard. Soon after Robb followed, rolling his shoulder to ease some tension he'd developed during his bout with Captain Sheva. Jon and Edddard walked casually together, making their way back to the castle. Lord Eddard made some joke about Robb falling in love with a pirate and running away to join her crew. Both men laughed yet the thought made Jon think of the women who'd stolen his heart. Amelia Targaryen, queen of Valyrian and the most beautiful woman in the world. She captivated him from the day she'd walked into his bed chamber and he'd thought about her ever since. He'd dreamt about her every night and she was fast becoming a part of his life he could not live without.

Lord Eddard caught his nephew day dreaming so as they walked together in the snow a knowing smile played across his features. Jon noticed his uncle staring from his peripherals and turned to him, giving him a polite smile in return, feeling somewhat embarrassed for letting his mind escape him like that.

"You seem different."

Eddard said suddenly. Jon turned with some measure of surprise.

"I do?"

He asked and his uncle mused at the response.

"Aye. I remember the last time I saw you. It was the night before the battle for Winterfell. You had been walking down the hall and stopped outside of your parents room. I could hear your mothers weeping from the hall. You hesitated before the door, unsure if you should enter. Then you thought better of it and carried on. I followed you outside. I found you sitting on an old barrel with your head in your hands. I asked you if everything was alright and you looked up at me, flashed me some sorry excuse for a smile and nodded. "I'm alright uncle." You said to me."

Lord Eddard turned to look forward allowing his nephew to mull over the memory as they made their way through the snow littered exterior of Castle Black.

"You were always like that Jon. So guarded and closed off. Like there was this wall of ice that kept you from everyone else. A part of it's your power. You're worried you're going to hurt someone, but a part of it's you. You're worried someone's going to hurt you. That walls gone now, or at least it's starting to go. You're finally letting it melt but what I want to know is where did the fire come from I wonder."

Jon smirked at his uncles words, unable to deny the comparison between the fire and the ice.

"A dragon."

Jon replied. Lord Eddard Stark turned to him curiously, Jon just looked at him with a crooked smile.

"There's a woman."

Uncle Ned chuckled and patted Jon's shoulder.

"Who is she?"

Jon hesistated a moment, knowing how mad he was for what he was about to say.

"Queen Amelia Targaryen."

Lord Eddard arched an eyebrow.

"The ruler of Valyrian?"

Jon nodded in return and his uncle rubbed his jaw, scratching the beard growing there.

"Do you love her?"

Jon shook his head as he looked down.

"I don't know..."

"Yes you do."

Lord Eddard Stark replied, stopping in the snow to look at his nephew. Jon's boots came to a halt as well beside his uncle. His gaze rose and met his uncles.

"Yes I do."

Ned seemed please and gave Jon a proud smile.

"Have you told her?"

He asked. Jon shook his head, a small level of frustration on his face.

"No..."

Ned put his hand on his nephews shoulder, getting his eyes once more.

"Can I give you a bit of advice? Tell her. Tomorrow is never promised Jon. Especially now, we're at war. You could die tomorrow, or she could. I think she deserves to know the truth should the worst happen and if the gods are good and you both live through this then there's no point waiting. Remember, winter is coming and in the winter when the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives."

Jon smiled. After all this time his uncle had hardly changed. He remembered his uncles words well and had even repeated them since leaving The North. He was right, as usual. There was no point denying the truth any longer. He told himself that as his booted feet ascended the stairs in the castle to reach Amelia's room. His heart was pounding in his chest as his nerves seemed charged with lightning but he'd come too far now to stop. He reached her door, raised his fist and rapped on her door.

She opened the door and her eyes brightened at the site of him. She smiled, seeming genuinely pleased to see him.

"Jon."

"Amelia, can I come in?"

He asked, still quite nervous. She seemed to pick up on it and ushered him in quickly as her emerald eyes searched him for what bothered him.

"Of course, is something wrong? Here, let me get you something to drink."

She said in concern, turning to the small desk where there was a vase of cool water and mugs. No sooner did she turn to reach for a cup did the words leap from Jon's mouth.

"I love you."

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She turned to him, almost in shock but a smile touched her soft lips never the less.

"What?"

She asked, as if she was unsure of what she'd heard. Jon was done hiding, he was done being cold and alone, he wanted her fire, he wanted her.

"I should have told you every day since the moment I met you Amelia."

He said moving to stand before her. She looked up at him, her emerald eyes shimmering in the candlelight. Her breathing became heavier as emotion and excitement and perhaps a little fear radiated off her as he spoke. He reached out a hand and caressed her soft cheek.

"I thought I was confused at first, mad even... We're at war but look...Amelia I know I can make some fool decisions sometimes but this isn't one of them. I do know some things, I know I love you... And I know you love me."

She didn't speak. Her words seemed tied up in her mouth but she stared at him with surprise and intrigue. He started to smile but then couldn't deny himself a moment longer. He moved in and kissed her. His lips touching hers and his hand wrapping around her waist. He pulled her in and though she started in surprise she didn't pull away. One soft hand ran up his chest, the other along the side of his neck, her fingers gently touching the curls of his dark hair. He kissed her long and passionately and his world finally seemed complete. The ice and the fire touched and held one another and the steam from their union created a power the world had never known.

Finally they separated and took a breath, still somewhat in shock he'd actually done that. She brought her hand up to her lips, still in shock somewhat herself. There was a moment on her face, as if it looked like she was seeing something else, or someone else but then the vision faded and she smiled, seeing only Jon.

"You do know some things... I do love you Jon."

She said in barely more than a breathy whisper. Jon smiled happily and took her hands in his.

"I want you to sit with me at dinner tonight, will you join me?"

She nodded without a word, still swept up in too much emotion to say much more. Jon grinned and turned to leave but her hand gripped his sleeve. He turned and she grabbed his collar brought him in for a second, more forceful and passionate kiss. Her hand ran along the back of his head, grabbing a hand full of hair as she pressed her lips to his. They separated and he stared at her in shock but with a growing smile. She smirked playfully in return before finally letting him leave.

Now they sat together, at the head table along side his family and before all his bannermen. While Robb sat and causally drank and ate beside him Jon Stark had one hand beneath the table. Intertwined in his hand was the hand of Amelia Targaryen.

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Arya shrugged at her cousins question, all the while struggling with her mud covered dress. She hated dresses, they just got in her way. She felt much more comfortable in pants. She'd stolen a few of Robb's old pairs from when he was her size. Sometimes she'd put them on and go running through the woods. It was so much easier than in one of the dresses her mother made for her.

"I'm fine."

She said shortly as she kicked at the stupid shoes she had on and struggled to fish out her other ones from beneath her bed with her toes.

"I'm just glad you and Jon are back."

She said trying to appear nonchalant but the pain of losing them was still evident in her young features.

"Don't disappear like that again alright? Without you it's just me and Sansa and I'd pitch myself off a tower if I was stuck with her forever."

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Robb Stark was leaning back in his seat, beside his cousin with a drink in his hand. He was in an odd mood and not sure how he felt about it. He was glad to have his cousin back for certain but the knowledge of the blood he'd spilled in his rage over his death left a foul taste in his mouth with the knowledge that Jon never actually died. He didn't feel remorse for the killing but he wasn't sure he felt as good as he had before about it. He was confused and not wanting to dwell on it he thrown himself into enjoying the evening. He'd met Amelia Targaryen, the only woman who'd ever drawn Jon out of that damned shell he'd lived in his whole life and she seemed nice enough. He'd met a hand full of pirates as well.

Yet as she walked in there was only one pirate he could think of. Trousers that hugged the shapely curves of her hips and thighs tantalizingly. A blood red corset and white top teasing the bounty of her bust and a long coat that made her look all the pirate and ready to steal every mans gaze in the room. Robb would have fought every man in the room then and there if it meant she'd be his for a night.

"So, King. You'd better have good rum, or our alliance is shattered."

She joked. Jon chuckled, his hand finally leaving the underside of the table and his lovers hand as if he legitimately thought no one had noticed.

"Needn't worry about that Captain, we have more than enough to drink."

He said as he reached across the table to grab a bottle of fine rum to hand to the captain. As he did Robyn noticed Robb's lingering gaze and smirked.

"Enjoying the sight?"

Robb's eyes finally rose to meet hers.

"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't."

Robb pushed out a seat beside him with his boot and poured himself a drink and one for Robyn.

"So you can fight, but can you drink?"

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amelia Targaryen Character Portrait: Arya Stark Character Portrait: Robb Stark Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of The Harbinger Character Portrait: Clara 'Scarlet'  Stark
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Arya winced as Clara's fingers ran through her hair. She was silent for a moment, thinking on her cousins words. People often thought she didn't understand what was happening out there, because she was young. They thought she was just a stupid little girl that didn't know how the world worked. She knew people were dying. She knew the Khalidorians were killing people everyday. They were killing peoples mothers and fathers and sisters and brothers... and cousins. She'd thought they'd killed Jon and she'd thought that they'd killed Clara and Arya had never knew grief like that before. She'd wept for days.

But eventually that grief hardened. The grief turned to anger, just like it had done for Robb. The difference was she couldn't go out and kill them, though she wanted to. She wanted to take a sword, go out with Nymeria and kill them all, but she couldn't. She didn't know how, not yet. One day she would, she would be strong and fierce. She wouldn't be a little lady, she'd be a wolf, maybe a pirate wolf.

The idea gave her hope and it made her happy. She thought on Clara's words about Sansa. She was sticking up for her and she knew why. It wasn't because of Sansa, it was because of Julia. Her own sister had been taken by the Khalidorians and no one knew what happened to her. She was probably dead too. Arya didn't mention that to Clara, she didn't want to upset her. So though she told her about Sansa she knew she was talking about Julia. So Arya didn't feel angry that she was telling her to be nicer to Sansa like everyone else always did. Clara was different, the kind of sister Arya would rather have.

"I wish I had a sister like her, one I know loves me."

Clara said longingly.

"One I know is safe right here, with me."

Arya looked up in the looking mirror, saddened that Clara didn't see her as a sister.

"I'm safe, right here. I can be your sister. I love you..."

Arya said, upset in the fact that Clara didn't already know this. She wasn't sure why but tears began to form in her eyes. She felt so stupid, like the little girl everyone said she was. But she never had anyone else she could cry in front of. Sansa seemed to cry every hour but not her. Arya was strong, fierce, she was a wolf, not a lady. She leapt to her feet and buried her head in Clara's chest, sobbing softly. She felt so foolish but she couldn't help it. She just wished Clara could always be here.

"I wish you were my sister. Not her, not Sansa, you. I can be the sister they took from you and you can be the sister I always wanted."

As Clara held the weeping girl who refused to be a lady and dreamed of being a wolf the girls sister stood in the hall listening to their words. Sansa's heart broke that day and as Sansa rushed back to her room little Arya wasn't the only one weeping in the halls of Castle Black.

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"Cheers."

Robb replied as he clinked the glass with Robyn. He downed his rum smoothly with a practiced hand. He savored the heat of the liquid as it ran down his throat. He set his glass down to see the crimson vixen grinning at him daringly with an empty glass in her hand. He poured two more drinks and leaned back in his seat.

"Before your head starts swimming I should warn you. We Northmen drink like fish... and pirates."

He downed his drink as she downed hers and poured them a third.

"There are winters when there's not much to eat and the only thing you have is a strong drink."

He raised his cup and his eyes glimmered in the fire light.

"Mothers milk, this."

He said with a smirk. Once more they drank and once more he filled their cups. The warming feeling from the rum was spreading through his body much to his pleasure. More pleasurable still was the gorgeous piratess seated seductively beside him, straddling her chair. He was about to speak when the band started up. Robb instantly recognized the song, it was an old favorite in The North. The Bear and the Maiden Fair.

"I always liked this song. Listening to it while drinking with a beautiful woman makes it all the better it seems."

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Jon watched Robb and Robyn get on with their drinking with a smile. He had been somewhat worried about Robb since coming back home. The man seemed different more, intense than he remembered. He was worried but to see him enjoying his cups with the captain he felt a little better for it. Maybe he worried for nothing, besides he had a beauty of his own with him tonight. He turned to see Amelia looking out across the massive crowd drinking and feasting before her. She looked practically mesmerized by the sea of Northmen before her. Large hulking men the most of them in thick furs and hard boiled leathers. Bearded men drinking their honeyed North Mead and downing beer after frothing beer. His country men loved a good feast.

He squeezed her hand gently and she turned to him with a smile.

"I'd heard that southerners think Northmen are nothing but big, drunken, bearded brutes. I fear this lot isn't doing much to dispel the notion."

He joked. She giggled softly at the jest and leaned in for her reply.

"You are, you're not drunk yet."

She replied back smartly. Jon laughed heartily and Lord Eddard looked down the table with a proud smile at his nephew. Meanwhile, at his side his lady wife looked down the table as well but not at the king but at the three empty seats still not filled. She nudged Ned pulling him from gazing on the king he saw as a son.

"Where are the girls?"

She asked.

"I don't see Arya, Sansa or Clara."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amelia Targaryen Character Portrait: Arya Stark Character Portrait: Robb Stark Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Da'Karro Misantri Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of The Harbinger Character Portrait: Clara 'Scarlet'  Stark
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Arya sniffed as Clara wiped the tears from her eyes. She did feel bad, somewhat. She did love Sansa and maybe Clara was right. There was room in her heart for both of them. Maybe.

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"I don't hate her. Not really."

She said somewhat ashamed. She sniffed one more time, rubbing her eyes with her sleeve.

"I guess I can have two sisters..."

Arya took a breath and got to her feet. She grabbed the dress Clara had picked out and looked at it. At least she had laid out breeches with them. She dressed quickly as her stomach started to protest. She grabbed Clara's hand and led her out the door into the hall and towards the feast.

"I'm starving."

She said as the two walked into the huge gathering. People were all over eating and drinking and carrying on. Arya spotted her father up front at the long table with Jon, Robb, The Captain and the moon haired queen whose name she didn't know. He watched as Jon spoke to her, they seemed close, sharing whispers and laughs. It reminded Arya of how her mother and father were sometimes. She arched an eyebrow as her gaze fell on someone approaching the table. He was dressed in odd clothing with his face painted. It almost looked as if there was an eye on his forehead.

"Is that a clown?"

Arya asked as she and Clara walked over.

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"Fucks this then?"

Robb asked with a grunt as he set his empty cup down and poured another. His eyes however had left the captain for the first time all evening and drifted to the pirate from earlier with the kukri. He had polished his gauntlet and tended to his armor but it was his face that drew his attention. The man had painted his face with ink and coal giving the appearance of a third eye on his forehead. Robb couldn't help but shake his head at the sight, the man looked like a proper fool.

"What sort of fresh hell is this?!"

Robyn asked Da'Karro as he approached.

"Is that an eye on your forehead. Oh you are just asking for it, aren't you?"

Robb chuckled and poured the captain another drink.

"That's adorable. Does he go into battle wearing make up too?"

"Robb..."

Came Jon's voice from the other end of the table. Robb turned to him with a shrug.

"What?"

Jon just sighed and rubbed his temple in frustration.

"He's priest of his faith, that's probably ceremonial."

Robb just grunted under his breath with little care and went back to his drinks and the beauty beside him. He let his gaze wash over her for a moment, drinking in her allure. The way her black hair fell around her dark shoulders. The way her shirt's neck line plunged so tantalizingly. The way she sat on her chair, teasing his imagination.

"Right then, how bout a wager. Pirates like gambling, no?"

He asked as he set a fresh bottle of rum between them.

"We drink till one of us can't. You win, you pick your prize. I win, we have us another bout... I'm thinking wrestling. Late night wrestling."

He said roguishly with more than enough charm as he leaned forward with two full cups, daring her to accept the challenge.

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Jon sighed as he turned to Da'Karro. He'd almost forgotten about the frustrating, priest sociopath. He didn't like him around his cousin, he didn't like him around his entire family even less but there was nothing for it. He had no idea what the significance of the facial markings was, be it good or bad but the best he could hope was that the man wouldn't do anything ridiculous throughout the course of a single dinner.

"Da'Karro, make yourself comfortable. There's more than enough food if you're hungry."

Jon said, trying to at least be somewhat personable to the man. Amelia could sense the tension in Jon's body in dealing with the man and her hand gently ran along his arm, soothing him with her touch. Jon thanked the gods for her. As Da'Karro took his seat and set about his food Jon noticed Clara and Arya approach finally. Lord Eddard rose and ushered them to their seats, pulling out their seats for each of them.

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Character Portrait: Amelia Targaryen Character Portrait: Arya Stark Character Portrait: Robb Stark Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Da'Karro Misantri Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of The Harbinger Character Portrait: Clara 'Scarlet'  Stark Character Portrait: William 'Will' Casey
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#, as written by zeph_gm
"Indeed, I am. Festivities are just a bunch of nobles getting drunk, but I feel better knowing that that fuck over there," Casey said gesturing at the young Stark lord drinking with the Captain, "...will be a distant fucking memory come the end of whatever our business here is, She didn't fucking tell me anything but no matter, though." Casey said trailing off, clearly under the influence of far too much rum. "She'll fuck em, sure but that'll be that, same with you, no offense."
"None taken Will," Da'Karro said, leading what was probably the closest thing he had to a friend back to the table, "And I doubt the boy will survive as well as me."
"Da'Karro," He heard Jon say and he looked up in response, "Make yourself comfortable. There's more than enough food if you're hungry."
He nodded at Jon, he had to at least try and be civil, even if the relationship between seemed to be deteriorating by the day despite Scarlets best efforts.
As if summoned by his thoughts Scarlet and the young Stark girl appeared from a nearby corridor and took seats opposite to Da'Karro and Casey. Scarlets eyes seemed to stare in wonder at Da'Karros appearance and her appreciation of his effort made him happy. He looked back at her, his boot rising under the table and running up the inside of her leg.

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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amelia Targaryen Character Portrait: Arya Stark Character Portrait: Robb Stark Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Da'Karro Misantri Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of The Harbinger Character Portrait: William 'Will' Casey
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Robb chuckled deeply as Robyn raised her glass to him. He rose his in return, clinked her cup with a smirk and drank his cup dry before pouring the second round.

"You're confident, I like that. I wonder how confident you'll be when you're seeing double and begging for a bucket."

Robb teased as he raised his second cup to her, clinked and emptied it in one clean gulp. He was thoroughly enjoying Robyn's company. No woman has ever brought him such pure pleasure, be it fighting or drinking it was just plain fun and enjoyable. He couldn't help but fantasize about how much fun they'd have later after he'd won their game.

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While Robb and Robyn drank Jon sat quietly speaking with Amelia. Their hands still intermingled beneath the table like a couple of mischievous sweethearts but they couldn't help themselves. They had danced around their attraction to each other for months now. Not but an hour past Jon had professed his love to her and she had returned it in kind. They shared their first kiss, and their second and both seemed eager for their third, and fourth and fifth and sixth. Her laugh was sweeter than the finest honey to him and her smile was brighter than the sun on fresh snow fall. Though Jon hadn't introduced her to the family officially yet he knew that was soon coming.

He could see the way his country men looked at her. The beautiful silver haired queen, their queen eventually. They all treated her with the highest respect and due honors. No doubt trying to curry favor with her majesty. It wasn't long before lesser lords, nobles and lordlings began approaching the table begging an audience with Jon. They greeted him politely and respectfully, blessing his return or offering words of promised glory in battle. Yet once they were finished speaking to their new king each and every one of them addressed Amelia. They called her Your Grace, Dragon Queen or Silver Queen,some were even so bold as to call her My Queen, a title normally reserved for the queen of the region they lived in. Amelia was not the Queen of The North, not yet though to look at her there. To truly look upon her grace, elegance, poise and beauty in dealing with the members of court and every lesser lord or knight that greeted her Jon could see no better queen or wife to him.

He wanted to kiss her then and there and to hell with decorum but before he did his uncle rose and addressed the room.

"Men and women of The North."

The hall fell silent in respect to Lord Eddard Stark, the eldest Stark still living.

"Many of you have already made it a point to come and introduce yourselves officially to our new king but it is high time he is officially introduced to you all. So.."

He said turning to Jon and extending his hand, beckoning for him to rise.

"May I Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell present to the realm, the only living son of King Edmond Stark, First of His Name. King Jon Stark, First of his Name and King of The North."

A bellowing cheer went up from all those in attendance. The North had accepted Jon as it's king and it's people rejoiced. Every man here would fight for him, die for him if need be. He would do everything in his power to be worthy of such loyalty. Lord Eddard waited for the cheers to die down before gesturing to Jon to say something. Jon swallowed hard before speaking.

"Thank you, all of you..."

He paused slightly, his nerves working a tad but he quickly got them under control.

"What strength I have, is for The North."

The crowd roared in cheers.

"For it's people."

Again they cheered. Jon's eyes flicked to each and every member of his family in attendance and finally rested on Amelia. She sat beside him with pride shining in her eyes. He smiled and reached out a hand, helping her to her feet. She looked a bit taken a back at the gesture, presenting her like this they could no longer deny their relationship and with the action he was officially introducing her to his realm as their future queen.

"And those I love."

He finished, his eyes only on Amelia. The final cheers went out, louder and prouder than before. The whole castle erupted in cheers for their new King in The North. As the crowd that gathered cheered, Jon Stark and Amelia Targaryen shared a kiss before the old gods, the new gods, and all the men and women of the realm. When the cheering had subsided and the mead began to flow again the crowd looked to Jon for final words.

"Now, I think we have a feast to get on with."

A few laughs went up and hoots of agreement. Jon chuckled and raised his cup to his cousin who sat across from him.

"And what better way to get things going again than with a song from the finest singer I know, Lady Clara Stark."

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Character Portrait: Amelia Targaryen Character Portrait: Arya Stark Character Portrait: Robb Stark Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Da'Karro Misantri Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of The Harbinger Character Portrait: William 'Will' Casey
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The whole hall applauded Clara yet few clapped as loudly or as happily as the King of The North. There, with the Mother of Dragons at his side he praised his cousins song.

"I had no idea Clara had such a wonderful voice."

Amelia said, visibly amazed and delighted. Jon chuckled and nodded in agreement.

"She's always had an amazing voice. When we were younger she used to take me to the shore and she'd sing while she played in the surf."

Jon's eyes grew distant as he could see the days long past. The days in The North that were lost to him forever. The happier days, the simple days. Yet as he blinked and looked at those glimmering, almost magical emerald eyes of the woman who was so kind to love him Jon smiled. The good days would come again. They could forge that future. Amelia was his fire and with her by his side Jon felt powerful and confident. He would send Wanhope and all the death and bloodshed he brought back to Khalidor and The North would ring out a new day that would be all the clearer for the storm that had passed.

He smiled at her lovingly and planted a kiss on her lips, gentler than the faintest spring breeze. She blinked almost in surprise, sensing she'd done something to deserve it yet not sure what it was.

"What was that for?"

She asked with a smile. Jon shook his head, and took her hand in his as he looked into her eyes.

"I just wanted to kiss you is all."

She smirked and leaned forward in her seat so she could be just a little closer to the orphan boy, that grew into a man, that was risen to a king and became the man who held her heart.

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Minutes earlier...

Clara was singing and Robb was taken a back. He hadn't the faintest idea she could sing, let alone sing so well. He couldn't help but chuckle as he shook his head and drained yet another cup. His head was swimming but his body felt warm and wonderful.

"So where were we..."

Robb started when he noticed Robyn's unmistakable figure sauntering out of the hall. Robb arched an eyebrow, curious where she was off too in such a hurry and got to his feet. He immediately realized how outclassed he was in their drinking game as she walked like she was stone cold sober as he rose to unsteady feet. Robb took a breath, forcing his mind to still and his body to cope with the alcohols effects and went after her.

She made her way out of the courtyard and began walking out past the grounds, nearing the perimeter of the castle. Robb was like a shadow, keeping a safe distance behind her. Though admittedly he was not as sure footed as he would have liked he kept up well enough. It was not until they were amongst the trees did she stop. Her hand went to her hip and Robb could've sworn he'd heard her laugh under her breath.

"I'm surprised you can even stand up right."

She said turning with a hand on her hip.

"Robb Stark,"

She said with a grin. Robb stepped out of the darkness, a charming smile of his own on his face as he approached. He stopped before her, looking into dark eyes with an even gaze.

"Captain Robyn Sheva... I believe we began a game we didn't get to finish."

He said casually.

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Robb stood there amongst the trees, watching her saunter away. The sway of her hips with each confident stride. She made his blood come alive. He grinned almost like a hungry wolf as he followed after her. They moved through the trees and the mist of the night, stalking, flirting, daring, threatening and inciting one another. It wasn't until they neared the edge of the forest did Robb put a hand out to stop her. She looked at him before following his line of sight. A small force of Khalidorian rangers, not more than fifteen or so had made a small camp to rest for the night on the edge of the forest. Robb lowered into a stealthy crouch as Robyn did the same.

His hand went to his sword and drew bare steel in the chill of the night. His blood was flowing strong and after a good drink there was two things he liked best. A fight and a woman.

"Care for another wager?..."

He whispered never taking his eyes off the rangers in the distance. He looked almost predatory the way his eyes followed their every movement, picking out the weakest members and the points of their camp to exploit. Like a wolf stalking deer.

"Whoever kills more, same odds."

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Character Portrait: Arya Stark Character Portrait: Robb Stark Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of The Harbinger
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In a flurry of snow and blood he erupted from the darkness. So like the dire wolf he flew on his banners Robb Stark was a predator, a hunter of the night. His sword was vengeance and his strength was justice. Justice for those lives lost in The North since the invasion, vengeance for all those who suffered needlessly. His first strike was viscous and brutal. Swinging at the zenith of his leap from the brush he brought his blade down in a powerful overhand strike. His sword cut through skull with bloody efficiency. The bone split and shattered on impact, giving way to the hardened steel. Blood and brain matter spewed out in all directions as Robb landed skillfully, in a crouch. Using his lowered position he surged forward, pushing himself to blinding speed. He sliced through one man's belly, then another before plunging his sword into the chest of the fourth man to die by Robb Stark's hand.

The Khalidorian cried out in agony as he clutched Robb's hand, already in his death throws. Robb grimaced and kicked him off his sword, roughly. No honor due to fallen butchers. Robb turned as two men charged him, each wielding axes.

"Khali!"

They cried, in honor to their god. No doubt a prayer for protection as well as a war cry for strength in the fight to come. Robb wasn't sure nor did he care to ponder why but the piety for the foreign god enraged him so he roared in return. He cried out for no god, no oath. Just a roar of fury and hatred. He charged at them, sword in hand and rage in his heart. The single man charged the two wielding great axes. They both brought their axes high, ready to split him like a log simultaneously. To their surprise he put on a burst of speed at the last moment before impact. Robb through his armored shoulder into the axe wielding rangers chest, he felt the collar bone snap from the impact as he fell back into the snow. The Wild Wolf spun around, his blade flashing in the moonlight and hacked into the other axe man's back. The man screamed and fell to the snow. Robb ended screams by sinking his blade into the man's spine. He shuddered then went limp.

Robb turned to see the other axe man trying to rise. The Khalidorian clutched his chest, the broken collar bone caused him significant pain to take each breath. Robb strode toward him, blade in hand like a hungry wolf come to finish off a wounded elk. The ranger looked up and terror filled his face.

"Khali save m-"

Robb's sword cut off his pleas for salvation as it pierced his throat. The ranger gurgled on blood as the Northman's sword came to a stop at the pommel.

"Your goddess isn't here, invader."

He snarled before ripping his blade free and letting the body drop.

"That's Four for me, Northman."

Robyn called to him from a few paces behind him. He turned with an arched eyebrow, so given to his hate he nearly forgot about her. Yet to see her standing there, blade in hand and snow falling off her body from where she slid through it Robyn Sheva had never looked more attractive to him.

"That's six for me, pirate."

He called back. No sooner did he shout than did a ranger barrel at him, short sword in hand. He dove, hoping a single swing could fell the Wild Wolf. Robb ducked the swing easily and as the man stumbled past him he reached out and wrapped an arm around the man's throat. He stuck his sword in the Khalidorian's back and pulled it back out again in a flash. The ranger took a stumbling step forward, his body still realizing he was now dead before he fell face first into the snow, never to rise again.

"Seven."

Robb corrected.

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"Quick as a snake. Fear cuts deeper than swords."

Arya whispered to herself as she ran through the castle. The party was still going on well into the night but the talks of the grown folk bored her. Especially considering they kept all the juicy bits out with her around anyway.

"Swift as a deer. Fear cuts deeper than swords."

She said out loud as she slid out a window and into the snow of the courtyard. Landing in a roll Arya ran through the inner circle of the castle's exterior like a shadow in the night. She darted from cover to cover, using barrels and hay stacks and archery butts to shield her should the enemy spot her.

"Fierce as a wolverine. Fear cuts deeper than swords."

She said, her breaths coming in panting bursts as she pushed her body to move faster and with more agility. She scaled the ladder to reach the wall and once on top of it she dove into cover, imagining the enemy firing arrows at her from beyond the walls.

"Strong as a bear. Fear cuts deeper than swords."

Arya dashed along the length of the wall, much to the surprise of the sentries stationed there. Many cursed or shouted in surprise as the little Stark darted around their legs. Though it may have came as a shock this was hardly the first time Arya Stark has made the night watch a difficult posting for the guards so they were fast seeing it as common place. She moved as fast as her legs would carry her until she reached one of the many towers that got a good view of the forest full of wierwoods. She leapt on the wall, grasping the banner pole bearing the sigil of House Stark. She stood there, her breaths coming out in puffs of smoke in the cold night air. As she stood she spotted her brothers wolf Grey Wind dart out of the castle and into the woods. He seemed on the scent of something, he was probably hunting.

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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amelia Targaryen Character Portrait: Robb Stark Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Da'Karro Misantri Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of The Harbinger Character Portrait: Clara 'Scarlet'  Stark
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"You've got a lot of anger in you."

She said walking up to him.

"How do you intend on using it?"

She asked him with an arch of a brow. Robb was breathing heavily but he felt alive in the exertion, the release. As Robyn looked up at him, her eyes daring yet inviting all at the same time he grinned. His hand shot out and roughly grabbed her shirt collar. He pulled her in and held his lips a hairs breath from hers.

"Let me show you..."

Later, in Castle Black

Robb sat up from the bed. The sheets, furs and blankets were strewn about the room, as were his clothes and hers. His body dripped with sweat and he had a fresh set of scratches running along his back. The sweat stung in the shallow cuts but it oddly felt good as he rolled his shoulders and got to his feet. He couldn't help but chuckle at the sensation of his back savoring the sting Robyn's nails had left him.

He crossed the room and grabbed a jug of cool water. He poured himself a glass and drank thirstily, water dripping through his beard and down his bare chest. He pulled the mug from his face and turned to look at Robyn. Laying there naked, with not an ounce of cloth covering her she laid comfortably in his bed, still breathing deep the waves of passion they'd just enjoyed. Her black hair fell down around her face, somewhat damp with sweat and it clung to her bare shoulders where it touched. Her neck had fresh bite marks and was subtly red from the pressure he'd exerted.

She looked at him and his eyes ran down her body as his hands had done moments prior. They drifted up her shapely legs, the alluring curves of her hips, up to her ample bosom, her soft neck line, her tempting lips and her mischievous eyes. He stood there staring and felt the urge to leap back in bed and start all over again.

"If you don't put some clothes on I can't promise I won't attack you again."

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In the great hall of Castle Black the feast that had once roared like a magnificent fire and burned down to embers. Now there was but a handful of people still in the room. Jon, Amelia, Lord Eddard, The Blackfish, Da'Karro, Clara and one or two of Jon's banner men. The light hearted mood from earlier had dwindled a bit as those gathered were going over the plans to march on White Harbor in the morning.

"The men are ready to move Your Grace, come dawn the whole of The Northern host will be marching for White Harbor."

Blackfish said as he stood beside Jon, looking over the route they'd march to White Harbor. Jon nodded, his eyes still on the map.

"Good. Once we liberate the Harbor we will need to get Captain Sheva a crew. Where is she by the way?"

He asked though no one knew. Ignoring it he went back to the battle ahead.

"White Harbor is our city. We know it's defenses and where it's weak but we need to take the city without causing undue damage. It is a Northern city, we're liberating it, not conquering it."

Lord Eddard listened to his nephew as he leaned forward on the table.

"We may be well served to raid some of the Khalidorian prison camps first, for reinforcements."

He suggested.

"Don't we already out number the city's defenders?"

Amelia asked as her intelligent gaze reviewed the troop allotments per lord following Jon.

"Aye we do, Your Grace. There's no need to waste time raiding prison encampments Ned. Let's take the fight to the bastards and give them a taste of Northern steel for once. I'm tired of hiding."

Lord Umber replied with a bear like growl.

"As am I."

Jon said in agreement. His eyes were on his uncle. He knew Lord Eddard was only being cautious, playing it safe. When he was younger he was a gifted battlefield commander but he wasn't called The Shy Wolf for nothing. Eddard Stark always played it safe, always thought a move out a dozen times then another dozen before making a move. That meant nearly every engagement he rode on was a guaranteed success but that also meant he missed out on a lot of big military opportunities because he was unwilling to take a chance.

"We have the men, we'll take the city and worry about reinforcements after."

Jons voice was firm and confident. The Northerners outnumbered the Khalidorians in White Harbor ten to one. They would win the day, well in the case of how Jon was planning this battle, they'd win the night.

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Characters Present

Character Portrait: Amelia Targaryen Character Portrait: Robb Stark Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of The Harbinger
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Robb watched as she began picking up her strewn clothing, scattered all over the room. He couldn't help but smirk as he watched her bend over to grab at one of her boots. He walked over and slid his arms around her waist. She stood up as he did, laughing as she pressed her back to his chest.

"Trying to escape the wolf's den so soon?"

Robb asked playfully as he directed her back towards the bed and tossed her down on the mattress she'd only just pulled herself from.

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As Robb and Robyn continued to enjoy one anothers company within the steamy warmth of Robbs bed chambers Jon Stark bid good night to his uncle and banner men as they took their leave, leaving only Jon and Amelia alone. Jon sat on the high seat at the table, looking out across the large empty hall, still lit with a few candles. The hall was oddly beautiful in a dark, solemn kind of way. Jon sat with Amelia leaning against his arm, her shoulder resting on his shoulder as his mind went over again and again what was to come. Sensing his concern she spoke up, her voice breaking the silence in the room.

"Stay here with me Jon."

She said suddenly. Her words snapped Jon from his minds worries. He blinked and turned, to look down at her. She softly and looked up at him, those emerald eyes reflecting the faint glow of the candle light.

"Do you remember when I last said that to you?"

She asked. Jon nodded in return, a knowing smile on his face.

"I do. That was when we spent that night together."

"I want that night again."

Jon chuckled at her reply and arched an eyebrow.

"Are you inviting yourself to stay in my cabin, Amelia Targaryen?"

Jon asked playfully, using her own words against her. Amelia smirked and got to her feet, grabbing his hands and helping him to rise.

"Yes."