Golden Winter || Robb Stark [on hold]

Chapter II

II. Waves

Aboard a merchant ship, heading to the North, Reau still couldn't get rid of the jitters she was feeling from the moment she received the letter. Now, here she was, on a ship with no friends or family to accompany her.

She would miss Fauna terribly but she belonged in Braavos. It wouldn't be right for Reau to just steal her away, after all, she didn't even know what would happen to her when she got to Dreadfort.

She sighed, as an act to calm her beating heart and to help her put a smile on her face. She decided that she would face that something new openly, besides, her father had giver her no reason to be afraid.

So why does she feel afraid?

"My lady, we are getting close." The captain of the ship approached the golden haired girl.

Reau didn't bother turning around to reply. "We're a long way from Braavos now, aren't we?" She asked the old man, feeling melancholic about leaving the only place she'd ever called home.

"Aye. Don't fret my lady, the North is a wonderful place under the care of Lord Eddard Stark." The captain answered.

"But isn't the North under his son right now? I had heard that Lord Eddard was imprisoned for treason against the king." Reau said, acting nonchalant about it.

"Yes, my lady. The North is under his first-born son, Robb Stark. An honorable lad aye, but just a lad all the same." He found himself saying.

Reau had heard stories about the Starks. Honorable men who fought for the king and now the head of the family was branded a traitor. A bit ironic.

"Do you know of my father, captain?" She asked, curious as to what the Northerners think of Lord Bolton.

"Aye. Lord Roose Bolton. A great man, my lady." The captain replied, not expecting the laugh coming from the girl after he said that.

"A great man. Captain, I'd like for you to tell me the truth. If you were to lie to me, the least you could do is pretend you believe it." Reau said, turning around to finally face the captain.

He was struck by how pretty the girl is and how intimidating a pretty face can get. But then he found himself remembering that this pretty face was the daughter of one of the most feared men of the North.

After some silence, the captain cleared his throat. "Lord Roose Bolton. Loyal to the North, the house known for torturing and executions. The people say that he has a chamber filled with the skins of those he had flayed. Of course, these are just rumors. "

He watched the girl's face in front of him remain emotionless. He started to become afraid of what this girl was capable since she was from the family of torturers, so to speak. If only he knew what was really going through the girl's head.

Reau's father, she didn't know much about him. Only that he was Lord of Dreadfort and a powerful man. Now, she was hearing that he was a violent and cruel man.

She couldn't blame the captain, after all, she did ask for his honest opinion, not that it was ensured that it was true.

"Thank you for your honesty, captain." Reau thanked the man, smiling once more to calm the terrified man.

"Of course, my lady. Forgive me but I must see to the sails." He left abruptly, not that Reau could blame him.

Once again, she turned to the waves crashing against the ship. All of it against one another, like warriors in a battlefield. Each one to his own.

She sighed, she knew that she shouldn't be looking behind, to Braavos. She should be looking forward, to where she was headed, to the North.

All of it new. All of it unknown to her but she knew that whatever was coming, she would face it as she always has. With a strong mind and a stronger resolve.

If only her heart had been one of her strengths.

{~~~~~~}

Now that Robb was alone in the solitude of his room, he was finally able to express his emotions freely.

What had he done? Could he even lead an army? He hasn't even seen battle before. But then, if he doesn't, his father and sisters will remain prisoners in King's Landing and he can't have that.

He won't let Joffrey and Cersei dishonor the Stark name like this. His father was no traitor. Their family was a noble house and not just someone that will blindly serve the crown.

If he was to be a rebel, so be it. He'd rather be a rebel fighting for family than a slave serving those who wronged him.

He found himself punching the post of his bed frame. He winced in pain at the first strike, taking a look at his knuckles, he saw that they only became slightly pink from the action.

So he threw another punch.

Then another.

Then another.