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WHO: Robb Stark & those who live in the Farm House
WHERE: The Farm House, De Chima
WHEN: A little bit backdated to the beginning of April
WHAT: Robb moves in!
WARNINGS: n/a

[Closed to Catelyn]
Robb's eyes widen when he catches sight of his mother sitting there. Still, he remains silent, hidden. He wonders if she has aged the way his siblings all did. They are from the future and probably know him as a man grown. As a lord, maybe. Or maybe just as Robb.

"Mother?" he finally says, stepping out of the shadow. "It is good to see you. It is a shame father could not come. Or...well, that they did not ask for him."

He flashes her a smile before he sits across her, reaching out to pour a bit of water for himself.

[Open to everyone inside said Farm House]
Jon has been right, it is far more quiet here. Robb sits on his new bed and busies himself with folding the clothes he has and putting his few belongings away. After that he shuffles forward to look out of the window. In a way he misses the sound of cars and people. And that is odd, especially since Winterfell wasn't extremely loud either. At least, not always.

After a long moment of gazing he heads for the kitchen to pick two apples out of the basket. He is planning to go outside and do some exploring.

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For a moment, she simply stares. She is caught in a flood of memories and emotion, because her last sight of him was his fallen body, the crushing knowledge that he was dead. But now, here he stands, alive and whole, younger, without the stress and worry that came part and parcel with the crown. She rushes to her feet, pulling him close in a tight embrace. "The gods are good to let me see you once more."

Before he knows it he is pulled into a tight embrace and she mutters something about thanking the gods for letting her see him once more.

“Gods, mother, you make it sound as if something bad will happen.” Still, Robb is not sure if he means this jokingly. It becomes difficult to ignore the odd difference between him and his siblings. There is something heavy in the house that no one speaks of and sometimes he feels as if his siblings are careful with him.

“Haven’t I always been where I should be?”

Now that she is over the first shock of seeing him restored to life, she can see more clearly that he is younger than her last memory of him, and that thought sends an arrow of sorrow straight to her heart, mixed bittersweetly with joy. She will not darken his tomorrows with her yesterdays, she vows to herself as she presses a kiss against his forehead.

"Always by my side, my sweet son."

Til the very, bitter end.

Robb feels a little awkward about the way his mother is being so very motherly over him. Thank the gods this does not take place in Winterfell's Great Hall surrounded by their father and some Northern lords.

"Yeah...yes mother." He wipes his forehead with the back of his hand and pulls a bit of a face. After that he takes a step back and straightens his hair.

"How long have you been here? You look...you look older as well." After those words he raises his hands. "I do not mean it as a slight...but...everyone is older. Jon is an old man."

[ If Jon is old, she must be ancient in his eyes. but she is so happy to have him restored to life, that she would not even mind if he said it straight to her face. He will simply have to endure embarrassing affection from his mother, consoling himself with the knowledge, if only he had it, that his sisters had to as well. ]

"Only a few months, yet I think more time separates us than that, strange as I am sure it seems to hear. Much is different here, my son."

You look only a bit older. [His voice wavers a little as he says that.] Not very much. But just a little.

[A bit of a pout appears on his face.]

I do not like it here very much. I mean...these televisions are exciting and most of the things are...but I miss Winterfell and father. [A pause as he looks down on the ground.]

How will I become? In the future?

[He hopes he has a grand beard.]

[ At the mention of Ned, her composure wavers and she hurried to blink back tears. She cannot tell Robb of what happened to his father, not now, when he is so innocent. She waits a moment to reply, and when she does, her tone is steady. ]
I miss your father too, and home. Perhaps the gods will bring him to us. In the future I know for you....You become a king, honorable and brave, the man you were meant to be.

[Robb misses the tears in her eyes and nods when she tells him she misses father as well. It would be good if Ned could be here. Just because everything would make more sense then.

Him becoming a king, however, does not make any sense.]

A king? [He points at himself and maybe he should grin and find that quite exciting. Instead of that he blinks and pulls a bit of a face. Would king Robert reinstate the North as a kingdom again? And what would father’s place be? And there was that entire matter of Jon breaking his vow.]

I think I do not want to be one. Why do I become one then? [The idea of bearing a crown seems daunting. And of course, if it would happen he would do it. If it is for the greater good of everyone. But...] Mother...what is going on? Everyone is older here and Jon has broken his vow.

[ she struggles to keep her composure. She doesn't want to lie to him, yet he is so innocent and she wants him to be a boy a little longer if he may. ] I cannot pretend to understand how, yet, we are from a time you have not yet lived through. Things have....happened. Our world, our lives, are different. You are younger than when last I saw you. You were a man, grown tall and strong, worthy of the crown on your brow, happily wed to the mother of your son. [ all true, and she will give him hope and hide the heartbreak. my son, my son, my first and my last ]

[Something about his mother's composure unsettles him. As if it is all such a sad sort of thing. As if the tale of Robb the King might not have a good ending.

Yet, he does not dare to ask. Maybe he just does not want to know either.]

What was her name? Of my lady wife? [He thinks of himself as a man and he hopes he has a beard.] How many sons do I have?

[ His innocent questions wound her, though of course such is not his intent. She wants to shield him from his own folly and the cruelty of old men, and though it will mean a certain untruth, perhaps she can settle his mind and explain her sadness all at once. He may well learn the whole truth, and then he will likely be angry with her. But she wants him to dream of Robb the King and his magnificent manly beard a little longer. ]

Her name was Talisa (or Jeyne if you prefer!), and she was beautiful and sweet as a song. She was almost perfect enough for my sweet son, though you know the Maiden herself might be a little lacking to me. I was not blessed enough by the gods to see your son born before my life was cut short, my son.

[Robb just frowns at her answer and the frown only deepens when she tells him that she will die.]

How is that good news, mother?

[He feels as if he has heard all these small bits and he hasn't got anything to piece those bits together.]

I don't want to be king and I don't want you to die. And how...how do you know that you will die? Have you died already?

[Memories wash over her and it is all she can do to hold it together. For his sweet sake, she will try. She wants to make his frowns disappear for just a little longer. She knows it is a losing battle, for Robb is smart and he will be told by someone sooner or later. Or worse yet, remember. ]

I wish I had the talent for lying, and I could spare you this. But yes, I do remember dying. I was...ready for it, in the end. It meant I would be with your father once more.

[ A tear escapes her, and her breath catches on a sob. She had forgotten in that rush of grief, that he didn't know about that either.]

[Robb can feel tears prickling behind his eyes and he moves to rub his nose, trying to pretend he is not on the verge of crying. Father too?. Is that the price for becoming king Robert’s hand? Death? Despair? Kings in the North? War?]

Does everyone die? Is it because of the war...? Of me being a king?

[He does not believe his father was sick. Or his mother.

He is going to lose his family.]

[She is not very skilled at lying. but she will make an effort for her boy. She blinks away tears, because she doesn't want him to see her cry. And she doesn't want him to shoulder the responsibility for her death, for many reasons, and not least of all is the fact that it's not all his fault to begin with. ]

I cannot speak for everyone, my sweet. But your father and I....we are both dead. Your sisters....live. As does Jon.

You do not answer my question!

[It is absolutely not Robb’s intention to become angry with his mother.]

Do they kill them because I think myself a king?! And what about Bran and Rickon? You do not mention them either!

Having Robb in the farmhouse had been a blessing. As Lucy's guard disappeared, they seemed to be replaced by more Starks. With his brother present, Jon felt comfortable enough to stay with Lucy through the night, leaving Lady Stark and Sansa under Robb's protection. He was young, but he understood how to see that they were looked after. It was an arrangement he hadn't explained to his brother, usually slipping away after the others had gone to bed and returning before it became light.

However, it was becoming more and more difficult to tear himself away from Lucy, his fatigue growing as he became closer to finishing his repairs. It was late in the morning that he finally returned to the farmhouse, stepping into the kitchen with the intention of making tea.

It wasn't a surprise to see someone up, though the sight of Robb sometimes still pained his heart. His youth and innocence still unchanged. "Where are you going?" He asked, pouring water into the kettle.

Robb has no idea about Jon’s contact with a woman. If he’d know he’d probably grin and ask about kissing. And in a way it felt good to be some sort of lord of the house. He felt responsible for the wellbeing of his siblings and his mother. Like he did in Winterfell.

When he hears Jon’s voice he perks up a little.

“Mmm...going outside. Where have you been?” He notices that Jon is moving around and preparing to make something with hot water. “You weren’t here this morning and we broke our fast without you.”

He should feel embarrassed and sheepish, but he didn't. He was still groggy from sleep and unfocused, forcing his mind to concentrate on filling the kettle. He managed to give Robb a small smile, rare but genuine.

"Outside? Here or in the city?" He asked. He didn't want to worry over his brother. In Westeros he was a man, a lord and later a king. But in that world, his brother was dead. It was hard to suppress the desire to keep him safe and watch him as carefully as he did the rest of the family.

The thought drifted away. A look at Robb and he was reminded that his brother was here and was safe.

His gaze didn't leave the kettle as he set it on the stove. "I wasn't far. A friend lives not that far away."

"Outside this house."

He gazes at Jon while he busies himself with heating water.

"You slept at a friend's house? Is his house further away?" Because no, he does not think about Jon being with a girl. Yes, his brother is an old man, but that is all. Well, maybe he had kissed someone by now.

"Will you come with me? You look as if you can use a walk outside."

That wasn't so terrible. Maybe he was being overprotected, but he wasn't very fond of his siblings going into the city. Death might not be permanent here, but it wasn't something he wanted to experience again or have his family suffer through. They were better off away from the overcrowded city. Those sorts of places never boded well for the Starks, as King's Landing showed.

Without the kettle to focus on, he leaned against the counter, looking back at his brother with tired eyes. He would need to summon energy to follow after him. Sometimes he did feel like the old man Robb always called him.

"I will. Let me have some tea first and we can explore the woods."

Maybe Jon should accept Robb's assumption that Jon had just been with a friend, but there wasn't any reason to conceal Lucy. He was seen with her often enough that others understood what was between them. Why hide it from his family? "Her house isn't far. There's a hill between our farm and hers."

Robb nods and finally moves to sit in one of the chairs, watching him carefully.

“If you feel too tired...you do not have to...” His voice sounds soft when he speaks. “Sansa told me I should ask you about hot springs... You know of some around here? I might be able to find them myself.”

When Jon mentions his brother’s friend is a girlfriend Robb raises his eyebrows slightly.
“Are you tired from bedding her?” Now he never had considered that, to be honest. But then again, Jon is older, he would know of teats and cunts. And all of that that belongs to a woman. Then he grins and he can feel his cheeks redden. “Is it that?”

Edited 2017-05-12 18:14 (UTC)

"I'll be fine." He was tired, but it wasn't enough that he wanted to rest anymore or laze about in bed. Robb was here and in this world, he wasn't about to take that for granted. "I don't know if there are hot springs, but we can look."

He knew precious little about the woods overall. There were the mountains, so it stood to reason there might be some hot springs somewhere. A part of him wondered if he should ask Lucy, who had lived here longer, but decided against it. It would be better to hunt with Robb and find nothing than to simply be lead there.

Strangely, no flush appeared across his cheeks at the question. He gave a reproachful look to his brother. In a few years, Robb would feel so honor bound to protect a woman's honor that he'd break off his betrothal. "I'm tired because it's still early." He tossed the dishcloth at his brother. "She's living alone and her guards have been pulled from this world. I don't want her to be on her own."

Robb smiles and nods afterwards. “I am glad to hear that. It would be quite a drag if you were tired. After all, we still need to test who is the quickest of us both. I do think that you becoming an old man might have slowed you down a little.”

The idea of having a woman is still some sort of distant thing to him. One day he would marry. And he hopes it would be a good marriage. The type his parents had. One full of love instead of obligations. He catches the dishcloth and puts it next to him.

“Why don’t you ask her to live here then?”

"I'm not so old that I can't beat you." It would be the first time in his life he bested Robb at anything. There was still a part of the boy he used to be that wanted to succeed at something, to beat the brother that had been his greatest friend and rival.

That was a complicated question. He could speak of honor and claim that it wouldn't be right to compromise Lucy in that way, but that wasn't the case at all. He had asked to stay with them, but she refused.

"She has land of her own and animals to look after. She doesn't want to leave them. We don't have the space for her either." He and Robb were already sharing an attic room. "She isn't far from here."

“I am far quicker than you are.” It is a bit of a bluff. Robb and Jon had always been equally matched when it came to fighting skills. An older Jon would know far more about fighting. “And you know I am unbeatable when holding a lance.”

Only problem was that there weren’t any lances here. Horses were. But they did not have any.

“Are you going to live with her then? Eventually?” Robb cocks his head a little as he asks that. “I take it you wish to... She is the one you love."

He has no idea if weddings work the same here as they do in Westeros. Probably not.

"Aren't lances for southron lords and perfumed princes?" He nudged his brother as he came to sit down at the table, waiting for the kettle to whistle. "Find a sword and we can spar again. Ser Rodrick won't stop us from using steel."

Eventually they would have horses. He had intended to buy some when it was only he and Sansa. Now that Robb and Lady Catelyn were here, he would need to save even more.

That was a difficult question. He did love Lucy, but was it really enough? Much like with Ygritte, he knew this would eventually end. "I don't know. Eventually I will be sent back to Westeros and she will return to her world. It isn't fair to bind her in something that isn't forever."

“You just say that because you are a sore loser, Jon.”

Even though swords are not common here it is not difficult to find a sword. Still, paying for them is an entirely different thing.

“Do you have a sword? I lack...I do not have the coin to purchase one. I do have a small knife.”

Jon’s answer surprises Robb a little.

“Do you truly believe that we are being sent home again?” Yet, he wonders what he would do if he were in Jon’s stead. It would be painful to lose his heart to someone but not be able to keep that heart forever.

"Are you all settled in?" Sansa was sitting in the living room, curled up on the couch with a cup of coffee and a book on her lap. She had heard Robb come down the stairs and she could see him now on his way out. She smiled softly when he turned to look at her, a curious expression on her face as she closed her book and set it aside.

"It's kind of strange, isn't it? It's smaller than Winterfell but bigger than the places they assign to us when we first arrive. It still feels strange to me at times." She commented with a bit of a shrug.

"Well...not entirely," he admits softly. Of course, it is not the most manly thing to admit to and he pulls a bit of a face after he has said that.

"I do not think this house is the strangest thing here, Sansa. But...to be fair, I wish it could be more like Winterfell. I miss the hot springs and my room." His sister looks well. She has grown a lot and seems to be comfortable in this environment. Before speaking to her again he straightens his posture a little.

"What kind of book are you reading?"

"It's okay, Robb," Sansa replies gently, watching him pull a face. "It took me a little while to get settled in at first too."

She figures that it has to be made worse to find his siblings all older and changed from what he remembers. She keeps the smile in place though she does feel a little pang when he mentioned Winterfell. She had spent so long wishing to go back after leaving and she doesn't have the heart to tell him how different it had felt when she did make it back.

"I know. I wish it could be like Winterfell too but...maybe there are hot springs somewhere nearby. I haven't looked but I could ask Jon." Or Lucy.

"Oh." She glances over her shoulder with a sheepish look. "It's just a part of the package they gave me when I arrived. It's about my powers that I am supposed to have."

“You look more comfortable than I feel... They all do...”

Robb gazes at the ground while speaking. How can he ever be an older brother to them when he is the youngest inside this house? How can he call himself a future lord of Winterfell when Jon has surpassed him in age and his siblings seem to follow him. He is not sure if he is jealous, but it makes him feel like the odd one out.

“I think Jon would know.” He nods slowly and forces himself to smile a little. “But I do not miss the hot springs. I miss Winterfell. I think we all do, is it not?”

He leans against a table.

“What kind of skills did they gave you?”

"I think it's more that we are good at faking it." She answers honestly.

There is a moment there where she wants to hug him but she stays where she is standing, watching him silently as he looks at the ground. She wants to tell him that she feels like an odd one out as well and that she suspects they all do. Leaving Winterfell had put them all on very different paths, far from where they imagined they would be at one time. It's a struggle every day to settle back into old routines or the same way they used to feel. Still, she thinks it has to be worse for Robb because there is so much they don't say.

"I know." Her voice is softer as she thinks of how badly she missed Winterfell too. Yes, she had made it back but it hadn't been the same. "I think we miss it the way it was back before...before the King ever came to visit."

Grateful for the distraction, she turns to pick up the book and looks at him again. "I haven't actually experienced any of the powers yet but supposedly I will be able to grow wings or have them just appear. Or turn my skin to armor and compel people with my voice, I believe."

"Why would you fake such a thing? Wouldn't it be more of a burden?"

At times Robb feels good about his new purpose and destination and at other times he feels out of place and unwilling to partake in this modern society.

"Well, Winterfell did not change when King Robert came. There were only more men...more Lannisters. I truly did not like Joffrey. The thoughts of him becoming our king..."

He shakes his head and is listens to his sister. Gods be good, they really did not give him impressive powers at all and he does not want to explain his sister that he can produce breath so bad that enemies can faint. Or that he can...warg into Grey Wind. Warg. That is something that Wildlings do. Something forbidden.

"That sounds impressive. But they have not come out at all? Not once?"

"I....sometimes." Sansa can't help but think about her time at King's Landing and her smile dims just for a second. "But sometimes it's the easiest way to survive."

She gives herself a mental shake so she can focus on the conversation at hand, watching him closely as the conversation switches from Winterfell to their powers. The fact that they have powers still seems strange to her but it is far easier to talk about them than their home.

"Not yet, no." She hums, moving to sit down on the couch again. "Maybe they're broken somehow or I am. Have any of your powers come out yet?"

Robb contemplates those words for a moment and slowly starts to nod. Probably, when he will grow older he will have to fake things as well. He has to fake politeness to a lord he might not like, things like that.

"I can see that... Yet, I hope I can be as sincere to whoever I meet when I am older...when I will be lord of Winterfell."

He smiles. "I wish to make father proud. And I know I will some day."

When he gets out of here one day.

"No... Not once. I wonder how we get to use them... When. I still feel quite like I did before..."

Robb finds her outside, not far from the farm house. His younger sister has always been a bit of a troublesome thing. More of a boy than a girl. If he had to believe the septa she was horrible at needlework and she was not fond of dresses either.

So he is not entirely surprised to find her practicing with a small sword.

"You are not bad at it," he says with a smile.

Her trouble with needlework? Clearly just because she'd not found a suitable needle under the septa's tutelage.

She'd sent Nymeria off to roam the farm and the woods surrounding while she practiced, endless forms and drills she remembered from her time with Syrio, the things she'd seen in Braavos. Whenever a duel had broken out, she'd always paid close attention. What worked. What didn't. What turned out to be the defeat of a duelist, all carefully internalized and slowly added into the technique she was developing.

It wasn't the first time Robb had likely found her with a sword in hand, even when she'd been younger. Though that had been a wooden practice sword, and she'd hacked and slashed with an exuberant enthusiasm, like she was going to fight and slay every last monster in Nan's stories. This? Was definitely different, bright flashes of steel as her blade moved in one hand, more focused on parries and thrusts than the sweeping blows one might try with the blades most knights might carry.

Enough time spent around The Waif meant she was more aware of eyes on her, so she flashed a smile in Robb's direction as she finally slowed to a stop.

"I should hope so," Replied in an amused tone, free hand settling on her hip. "Or all of this practice will be for naught."

"It is admirable, really. I have never known you have grown so much while...we grew older."

Robb's smile becomes warmer. It was a good decision of father to allow her to practice eventually. She was not made for needlework and curtsies. He had always liked that in her. If he were her father he'd probably allow her to practice swords as well.

"I do not have a sword on me but we could spar with sticks. I remember ser Rodrik's lessons very well." And Robb has always been good with a sword, even though not as good as he was with a lance.

In all honesty it was partly allowed because Ned knew that no matter what he said, he couldn't really stop her. And better she learn a skill than accidentally lop a hand off or lose an eye in the attempt.

"Sparring with sticks would be fine." Better in some ways- It was one thing to spar with Jon with live steel, she knew he was skilled enough to not get hurt in the process, but Robb had never seen the style she fought with. Better to use sticks while he acclimated to it's differences.

To say nothing of the fierce protectiveness she felt regarding her older-now-younger brother.

"I'll even show you a thing or two if you ask nicely." Smiling teasingly as she set her blade atop the wooden fence for the moment so she could help him dig up a pair of suitable sticks.

"It would be folly to raise a stick against your sword. I'd lose immediately." He laughs after saying that, crouching down to fetch some sticks. And, to be fair, he is a sore loser and losing from his (baby) sister would be an absolute insult to his uncertain steps into manhood.

"Do I truly have to ask nicely?" He turns and grins. "I am still your big brother, you know."

Only she is taller now and she does not have to go to school like he does.

"You would think so, but I've seen a man hold his own against armed knights with nothing but a wooden practice sword." For all the good it did him in the end, Syrio had still done it.

"And mother would be aghast if you were teaching me poor habits, would she not, big brother?" Said in a teasingly saccharine tone as Arya was following after to help find a pair of sticks that were suitable. Not so dry or rotten that they'd shatter on impact, but still sturdy. Picking up more than two- better to have spares on hand instead of having to stop and search out new sticks if one should break after all.

"I'm only teasing though. I don't know how much my style would work for you, but the more you know about it the better you can defend against it either way."

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