The Bite of Winter

Robb

Anyone else notice how when the characters name their animals in the books, it seems to represent their personalities or experiences?

Robb runs a hand over the sleek coat of his black stallion. Some time had passed since Howland had to give Robb the horse. Perhaps it was time for him to name it. Theon had named his stallion Smiler, Bran had Dancer, what would Robb name this one. As a child, he had never given it much thought. He had named his steads Red, Poppy, or whatever else was his first thought, yet a name didn't come to him for this one. He thought for a moment. This horse had taken him to Jon, it had allowed him to find his brother and help him fulfill his destiny. "What about Faith." He found himself whispering. The horse stood quietly. Faith would do. Faith was the only thing that got him to the wall, faith, and this horse.

He turned at the sound of footsteps approaching. He sees Jon approaching, dressed in grey furs. Ghost padded silently behind him. He smiles at his brother, who manages to smile back. He knows that Jon has been struggling with his new role of king. If it wasn't for Arya, he would have never accepted it.

"I have something for you." Jon began, "Actually, I don't technically have it yet. But, I do have something that I need to ask of you."

Robbs brow furrowed. Jon had never been the best with words, but he wasn't making sense at this moment.

"Will you be my hand?" Jon asked, his mouth forming a hard line. "I don't trust anyone else more than you. I commissioned the pin at the smith's, but it isn't ready yet."

Robb could feel his jaw drop. "Me? Jon, I'm not sure that I'm the most suitable option."

"You are. You're loyal, you have experience ruling and you have proven yourself to be a capable military commander."

"Yes, and do you recall how my reign ended? Ask Davos, he would be more capable than me."

"Robb, I wouldn't have chosen you if I didn't trust your ability. You never lost a battle when you were king, and frankly, we have many battles in our future."

Robb sighed softly. Perhaps in time, Jon would reconsider. "I'll accept the position, your grace." Robb can't help but smile when Jon cringes at the title.

"Am I even technically a 'grace' yet?" Jon asks, his eyes wandering to his meager following of wildlings.

"Honestly, I'm not sure. After we win Winterfell, you'll be coordinated and that will make it official." Jon began to flex his burnt hand. It hadn't taken Robb long to realize that he does that whenever he is nervous.

"Have you considered your council?" Robb changed the subject.

"Aye. Ser Davos as my master of coin and Asha as my master of ships."

"What about your grandmaester, master of laws, master of whispers, and Lord Commander of your Kingsguard?"

"My Kingsguard is right here." Jon patted Ghost's head affectionately.

"But shouldn't you have a few actual knights as well? I don't that you completely understand that you're about to be the most powerful man in the Seven Kingdoms, that the Boltons and the Lannister's are going to try to kill you." Robb explained.

Jon actually smiled. "It seems that you were meant to be hand, you seem to fit the role rather well."

"Just, please consider expanding your guard." Robb wonders if this is how his mother had felt when he was king. She was the closest thing to a hand that he had. If he were to be Jon's hand, then he would ensure that Jon never made his mistakes.

Robb's eyes flitted to Asha and Davos who were currently mounting their horses.

"Also, as your hand and your brother, I beg you to please be careful with Lady Greyjoy." Love had been Robb's downfall. It could not be Jon's. 

Jon's eye's softened. "I am." He breathes, eyes on Asha. "There was a man at the wall. Maester Aemon. Aemon Targaryen, my namesake I suppose. He told me that love is the death of duty. He told that when you went off to war. I was about to desert and ride after you, but a few friends in the watch stopped me." Jon's eyes appeared to glaze over as he remembered simpler days. "I cannot set aside my duties now. I'm responsible for too many lives. I will fulfill my duty, no matter the cost."

For a moment, Jon looked like the somber boy he was back in Winterfell all those years ago. Robb felt a ping in his heart. He wished that they were the same people that they had once been. People who had never felt true pain. 'Knights of summer' his mother had once said to him. That is what they had been, but as father always promised, winter was coming. Now they simply soldiers in the snow, trying to fight their way through the darkness. 

Greywind barked, pulled Robbs thoughts back to reality. "We should get moving. We don't have a lot of time before another storm comes and traps us." He swung himself onto Faith as Jon mounted his dappled grey. 

Ghost and Greywind trailed them as their mounts walked side by side to their party of Wildlings and companions. Jon took one look behind him, his face was unreadable as he surveys the men now following him. Then he put his heel to his horse and led them forward.