[Winterfell - Great Hall]
The bannermen of House Stark had gathered and were all eating, drinking and carrying on.
At the main table, Robb, Bran and Theon were seated. Under Robb's chair, his direwolf, Grey Wind was curled up on the ground. Also at the table were Jon "Greatjon" Umber, Lord of Last Hearth, Garth Dragen, the Lord Defender of the North as well as Ethan and Duncan and his vassal Ryger Mollen, Gregor Forrester and his son Rodrik, Hendrick Grayburn, Lord of Brightbank and his squire Sammith, as well as his vassals Trytas Nyte and Anthor Dyser. Many more lords and knights were also seated in the hall.
Along the walls were the banners of Houses Bolton, Hornwood, Grayburn, Dragen, Umber, Karstark, Manderly and Tallhart.
"For thirty years, I've been making corpses out of men, boy. I'm the man you want leading the vanguard." Greatjon Umber told him.
"Garth Dragen will lead the van. It is his duty as Lord Defender." Robb informed him.
"I won't fail you, my lord." Dragen promised.
"The bloody Wall will melt before an Umber marches behind a Dragen!" Greatjon stated.
"You're out of line, Lord Umber. If he says Lord Dragen will lead the van, then that means Lord Dragen will lead the van." Hendrick Grayburn told him.
Greatjon turned to face Hendrick. "Who asked you, Grayburn? You probably just wanna lead the van yourself."
"Or maybe I'm just respecting my liege-lord's wishes, like you should."
Greatjon glared angrily at Hendrick, then turns back to Robb.
"Jon, please. You're making a fool of yourself. Everyone knows a Dragen has more brains than an Umber." Garth taunted, smugly.
"You've got some fuckin' nerve, Snake! Why would I mqrch behind a man who can't even keep his own fuckin' sons under control?! All you Dragens are mad! Especially the ones who breed monster-spawn!" Greatjon spat furiously.
This was clearly a jab at Lucas. Garth angrily stood up.
"You son of a whore! How dare you insult my son!"
He rushed towards Greatjon, but was restrained by Duncan and Ethan. Greatjon advanced on Garth as well, but was likewise restrained by Gregor and Rodrik.
"Seven hells! Calm down, both of you!" Gregor told them.
"Get off me, Forrester!" Greatjon told him.
"Garth, calm down! He's just trying to rile you up." Ethan told Garth.
"Yeah, don't let him have the satisfaction..." Duncan agreed.
"That's enough, both of you! Did we come here to fight the Lannisters, or did we come here to fight each other?!" Hendrick stood, shouting furiously at the pair.
Greatjon threw Gregor and Rodrik off of him, and likewise, Ethan and Duncan released Garth. They both remained standing, angrily glaring at each other. This caused Robb to also stand.
"That's enough out of both of you. Sit down." He turned to Hendrick. "Thank you, Lord Grayburn."
Hendrick. nodded and sat down. Gregor and Rodrik also went back to their seats, as did Duncan and Ethan. Both Garth and Greatjon were still standing and glaring at each other. But finally, Garth sighed in resignation.
"As you command..."
Both Garth and Greatjon went to their seats. Garth still looked slightly angry, but when he got to his seat, Greatjon was grinning smugly for some reason.
"See, what did I tell you? Dragen's too touched in the head to lead the van! That's why I should be leading it." Greatjon told Robb.
"That's enough, Lord Umber. My decision is final. He will lead the van."
Greatjon looked further insulted. "I will lead the van, or I will take my men and mqrch them home."
Robb glanced threateningly at Greatjon. Bran and Theon watched apprehensively as Robb stared him down.
"You are welcome to do so, Lord Umber." He slowly stood up. "And when I am done with the Lannisters, I will mqrch back North, root you out of your keep and hang you for an oathbreaker."
"Oathbreaker, is it?!" Greatjon stood as well, causing several other lords to also rise. "I'll not sit here and swallow insults from a boy so green he pisses grass!" He started to pull out a knife, causing Theon to stand up.
But before he could do anything, Grey Wind suddenly darted out from under the table and pounced on Greatjon. Greatjon was heard screaming and Grey Wind was heard growling and snarling.
Several others stood up and watched. As Grey Wind moved away, those gathered could see that he has bitten two of Greatjon's fingers off. He was still screaming and grabbing at his hand. Many of the observers looked stunned.
Greatjon slowly got back up, still clearly infuriated.
"My Lord Father taught me it was death to bare steel against your liege-lord. But doubtless, the Greatjon only meant to cut my meat for me."
Greatjon kicked his chair away. "Your meat...!" There was dead silence in the room as everyone was looking expectantly at him. He glanced back at his missing fingers. "...is bloody tough." He finished, calmer, seemingly impressed.
Later that night, Robb visited Bran in his chambers. Bran was sleeping, but Robb gently shook him awake.
"What is it? What's happened?" Bran asked, not fully awake.
"Shh, it's all right."
Bran realized Robb was dressed in his battle gear.
"Where are you going?"
"South. For Father."
"But it's the middle of the night."
"The Lannisters have spies everywhere. I don't want them to know we're coming."
"They have more men than we do."
"Aye, they do."
"Can't I come with you? I can ride now. You've seen me riding. And I won't get in the way, I -"
"There must alwys be a Stark at Winterfell. Until I return, that will be you. Rickon is six years old; that's far too young for someone to be a lord. That's why it has to be you, and nobody else." He paused. "You are not to leave the castle walls while we are gone. Do you understand?" Bran nodded. "Listen to Maester Luwin and Archsepton Redmond. Look after your little brother."
"I will."
"I'll send letters whenever I can, but if you don't hear from me, don't be scared."
There was another pause as Robb and Bran stared at each other, both of them looking worried. Robb placed a hand gently on Bran's shoulder.
"Until I return."
Robb left the room. Bran watched him go, still looking worried. Not long after Robb left, Rickon appeared in the doorway.
"How long have you been hiding out there?"
Rickon didn't answer, but entered the room.
"Robb will be looking for you, to say goodbye."
"They've all gone away."
"They'll be back soon. Robb will free Father and they'll come back with Mother."
Rickon shook his head, still looking mournful.
"No, they won't."
Rickon turned around and left the room, Bran suddenly looking forlorn.
The next morning, Bran was in the Godswood praying at a weirwood tree. Sitting with him was Archsepton Redmond.
"Please watch over Robb. And watch over all the other men from Winterfell. And Theon too, I suppose."
"May the Seven bless Robb and Theon and all the men who march with him. May the Father grant them justice for Lord Stark and all those who died in his service. May the Mother allow them to show mercy on their enemies. May the Maiden allow them to keep their virtue. May the Crone give them wisdom in preparing for the wars to come. May the Warrior grant them strength in the coming battles. May the Smith allow their blades to remain sharp. And may the Stranger grant them death only when it is their time."
"It feels unusual to hear prayers to the Seven." Bran told him, the Archsepton giving him an understanding smile.
"I serve the old and the new."
Bran smiled back.
Osha, who was still shackled at the ankles, approached them. "You hear them, boy? The Old Gods are answering you."
"What are you doing here?" Bran asked.
"They're my Gods too."
"I didn't think the Wildlings had Gods."
"You think we're so savage we don't have Gods?" Osha said, looking annoyed at the Archsepton.
"Forgive me. I didn't mean to give offense. I just didn't know." Redmond muttered, clearly embarrassed.
Osha shrugged. "Beyond the Wall, they're the only Gods." She reaches up and runs her hand along the bark of the tree. "Even slaves are allowed to pray."
"You're not a slave." Bran told her.
Osha showed Bran her shackles.
"Well, your friend did put a knife to my throat..."
"I'm not complaining, little lord. Just telling truths." She sat down by Bran.
"What did you mean about hearing the Gods?" He asked.
"You asked them, they're answering you." Osha glances at the weirwood tree, then closed her eyes. "Shh. Open your ears."
Both Bran and Redmond looked around. The wind could be heard blowing through the trees.]
"It's only the wind."
"Who do you think sends the wind if not the Gods?"
"She does have a good point, Bran." Archsepton Redmond pointed out.
"They see you, boy. They hear you." Osha said, the three of them glancing at the face on the weirwood tree. "Your brother will get no help from them where he's going. The Old Gods have no power in the South. The Weirwoods there were all cut down a long time ago. How can they watch when they have no eyes?"
Someone was heard approaching. All three of them turned around towards the noise. It was Hodor, who was completely naked except for a towel draped around his shoulders. Osha laughed when she saw him.
"Oh, gods, not again..." Redmond muttered, embarrassed, yet slightly amused.
"Well, there's a big man. He has giants blood in him, or I'm the Queen." Osha commented, looking him over.
"Go back and find your clothes, Hodor." Bran told him, Osha laughing again. "Go dress."
"Hodor." Hodor replied, before leaving.
"Are there really giants beyond the Wall?"
"Giants and worse than giants." Osha knelt back down. "I tried telling your brother. He's marching the wrong way. All these swords, they should be going North, boy. North, not south!" She paused. "The cold winds are rising...." All three of them looked up into the tree, the wind blowing again.