#winter is queueing

“What does it matter to me?” Brandon asked shaking his head “What should it matter if two more southerners disgraced their own gods?” He spat on the floor next to him. His father was always telling him it wasn’t lordly behavior, but he wasn’t entertaining the damn king he didn’t need the youngest Lannister to see him as some fierce lord. 

Byrant had spent the last months doing his best to cuase the Bolton’s as many problems as he could, trying, hoping, to find some thread of alliance for the true rulers of the North, to find anyone who might still be loyal to the Starks. He’d put together a small band of men like himself. And then, then they had heard that Jon Snow, bastard son of Ned Stark was amassing an army, was planning to take Winterfell back. It had seemed like a day that would never come, a day Byrant had dreamed for but not dared to pray for, least the gods laugh at him. He could join with a Stark, could help return Winterfell to its rightful owner.

When he found the camp, he could hardly believe it. To walk though a war camp, the Stark banner flying. Utterly unlike the last war he had taken part in, and yet, nearly the same. He was not sure, if it was better or worse to be breathing in the Northern air, he’d rather be fighting on Southern soil if he was honest. But to be where their gods could see them, it was a comfort. The wildlings were odd, but Byrant could hardly question Jon, not when he knew hardly anything of the matter.

Wandering though the camp helped settle Byrant’s nerves, at the same time, he was eager to see Jon. He’d not seen Jon in years, he’d left for the wall before Byrant had gotten back from Dorne. They’d said he was Lord Commander, so how it was he was no longer serving the Night’s Watch Byrant didn’t understand. There were rumors about it but again Byrant could hardly question it.

Finally he found himself in front of Jon’s tent. he took a deep breath before pushing the flap open. He’d tried to send word ahead, though he wasn’t sure if he’d managed.

“I said I didn’t intend to harm you, are you calling me a liar?” Robb looked down at Tyrion, the man had nerve, he was in no position to say something like that and yet here he was. 

Jaime stared at Ned. They had never really got on with each other and Jaime had a feeling that they never would. “What did you just say to me?” Jaime asked. He wasn’t really taking much notice if there was anyone else around them at that moment.

It was no secret that Ned didn’t like the Lannister boy. It hadn’t always been that way, he could clearly remember the day at Harrenhal when he’d been admited to the Kingsguard, he’d not hated him then. Though there was no love for the Lannisters then either. The war had changed that, the war had changed everything. 

Sansa drew in a breath as her father pulled her tight into an embrace. For a moment she felt the urge to pull away. She was a young woman now and felt a bit embarrassed by the entire display. But slowly she did relent and she reached up to hug him back. The touch of his wolf-lined cloak on her cheek was a familiar, happy sensation - as much as that first brush of winter wind.

“…Are you sad to be leaving home, father?” she asked quietly without letting him go. It was perhaps a cruel question. Had she not been begging him to go South? To take her with him, so that she might marry Prince Jeoffrey?

Ned wondered how much longer Sansa would allow him to hug her. Robb and Jon had long since out grown hugs and Bran- Bran he wouldn’t let himself dwell on Bran for the moment. The gods would do what they willed with him. He only hoped they would let the boy live. When she hugged back he felt releafe wash though him, so she was not yet too old to be hugged for her father. That was good, some day she would be queen and- no he wouldn’t think of that either. She was still his little girl for the moment. 

Now that, that question was not one he’d expected. How much easier would it have been if she had asked if he was excited to be going south. He took a step back, realizing she was taller now, how had she gotten so tall? “We all do what we must. I have a duty to the realm.” he sighed, he wouldn’t lie to her. “I will miss your mother, and your brothers, all your brothers.” he stressed, not able, even now, to stop worrying about Jon. “I will miss it here.” Was the best he was able to give her. It was not perhaps a satisfactory answer. 

The alliance with King Renly had been rocky but it had been working, it was times like this though that Robb almost missed being the only King around. 

“I wasn’t watching your back.” Robb tried not to roll his eyes, “Perhaps your Rainbow guard should have been.” The whole notion of a kingsguard, in Robb’s mind, was a southern fancy, and some how Renly managed to make the whole notion worse. 

“And I would do it again if I had to.“ Bronn said to Robb. “You go anywhere near him again and I promise you I will.“ He told him. “And I have been called worse so that doesn’t bother me at all.“