Please go easy on him, still getting the hang of him.

[northremembers]

Cowardice is not becoming, lady Mundane. Not of you, and certainly not of me. You cower with your tail between your legs yet in the same breath extend your hand to do that which you fear. I will not run. Nor shall I allow you.

I have rallied armies, I have seen what it is to be on the front lines of battle- yet you are afraid of this? Words upon a page, dictations of my will. Mere writings?

I will not allow it. I can, and I will lead you-

as best as I can.

Comments

[hydrophobia]

What armies?

[northremembers]

[ The ones in his sleevies. ]

My father's bannermen. The host of the North, and all men loyal to my father- [ His voice tightens, just a fraction. ] Lord Eddard Stark. [ Now loyal to him. To the King in the North. ]

[songsandstories]

[Another brother. It makes her heart leap in her chest as much as it cuts it into tiny pieces. The one she loved. Still she could not just say nothing, even if she must tell herself over and over again that Robb is Sansa's brother, the one betrayed by the Freys. It makes her jaw grit even tighter.

What joke is this to see him again, but even as she denies herself this happiness, it is void for the smile and joy in those Tully blues. For even if Petyr has turned her hair dull and brown, she still possesses a look of her mother about her.]

They fear what is new, your Grace. With time, nerves will steel.

[northremembers]

[ He could never forget his sister's face. What Petyr had done to her hair was not enough to hide her identity, not from him.

There's no smiles on Robb's face either; too many emotions to name fighting to surface- so he attempts to push them all down. Guilt twists his stomach in knots, and it seemed that the weight of merely seeing her was almost corporeal. Settled over his shoulders, weighing them down.

His head tips briefly. As though he has succumbed to this weight. But he forces it back up, forces himself to look at her, her blue eyes mirrored by his own. ]

You of all people have no need to address me so formally. [ But Sansa had always been proper, had always been a lady. Made for courtly life, the opposite of his sister Arya in every way. He aches to see her, just as much as he rejoices. ]

It is good steel we both need. In our own ways. [ His reply feels inadequate- yet what could he say? ]

[articulation]

[Annabeth opens her mouth to speak and then shuts it again. Her expression is sort of torn between bewilderment and amusement]

Sometimes words can do more damage than any battle, you know.

[northremembers]

[ H a h a h a very funny Annabeth. If there is anyone who knows what weight a single word can carry, it is him. ]

Words carry what weight we give them. Were this an oath, or a political wager I could understand her misgivings. A treaty, a summons- but this for the moment, is none of those things. She is afraid of what she believes to be her limitations, and I'll not allow her to stand idle.

[brittlebones]

She is no coward, not with you leading her. [ because robb, above all else, will show her what it means to be of winterfell — to carry ice in your veins and steel in your hands. ]

[northremembers]

[ Bran.

For a moment, Robb stalls. It's a relief to see his brother alive, whole- well, mostly, anyway. Alive is the important part. ]

We will find our way together. I can only lead her so much as she allows, and hope that it shall be enough.

[starkbastard]

[There's the hint of a smile on his lips. Gods, he misses you Robb]

She fears not holding up to the high standards she set for herself, regarding your will.

[He knows. His writer has been there as well.]

[northremembers]

[ He studies Jon for several long moments. Can't help but to stare, to note the differences that he finds and wonders- has he become different as well?

It's subtle, not something one would notice if you hadn't grown up with one another; been companions, brothers. But Jon wears it like a cloak, and Robb cannot help but notice it.

His own smile is just as mild. A faint up-quirk at the corners of his lips and little more. ] I'm sure Arya could give her an ear full on the subject of fear. [ His own words are a blade that twists in his heart. To see Jon, Sansa, Bran, his mother- yet to know that they are not whole. Never will be, not as they were. The days of such familial moments are behind them now, and Robb knows that longing for them will not bring them back.

He has no time for nostalgic complacency, not even now. ] Our father as well.

I have trust in her. Already she works to face her fears, and I will not merely abandon her to face them alone.

[playboyskipper]

Hey, fear can cut some people pretty deep, y'know.

[northremembers]

Facing our fears is how we become brave. Only by accepting it may we overcome. Cowering, running away from our fears benefits us none.

[upheld]

Words can be of harm too, if one allows them to do so. [ she is of slight nerves, herself. Speaking out, here and now. ] It might only take some time to get used to.

[northremembers]

You are right. Words are worth what weight we place upon them. However, the words she fears are my own, and these she has no need to be afraid of. I will not lead her astray. So long as she has faith in me, I will aid her to find the faith in herself she needs.

what is this "going easy" of which you speak

[turncloak]

Doing what you're afraid of is the very definition of bravery, Stark. Whatever that may be. Don't mock the lass, not as if you've not feared a thing a time or two.

[regretzio]

[strum]

♪ Theon, Theon, he's the bloke
Who gets to lots of mackin'
Even though it invites the joke
About releasing a little kraken ♪

[compensates]

Why, you are a veritable font of wisdom on how the lady may behave, Stark.

[regretzio]

[strum]

♪ Tyrion Lannister, Hand of the King or the Imp
But a better title is Lord of Pimp ♪

all the things.

[excoriation]

As best you can, my lord.

[northremembers]

[ Is that sarcasm that he detects? Robb goes a little rigid, his eyes darkening. ] As my father always taught, yes.

[sarella]

[ there's a boy, fletching an arrow with narrow, dark fingers and quick eyes. ]

Is battle not a kind of cowardice?

[northremembers]

[ He frowns, and it is clear that this isn't something he agrees with. Yet he is curious, all the same. ] Battle is a path of honour. To stand and fight for ones own beliefs, for country, freedom, family. I see no cowardice in raising ones sword to fight for honour and justice.

[mydaddyissues]

I don't know, Stark. I think you could wear cowardice easier than you wear king. It would fit you better.

[northremembers]

I wouldn't know, you are the master of cowardice. Hiding behind your mother's skirts. Should I ever require such advice I will go to you, you seem so intimately acquainted with such a cloak.

[defenestra]

Perhaps she ought to be scared. You as her leader means she's just as like to be ripped apart as you are.

[northremembers]

Had you or your ilk any sense of decency- of honour the wolves would have you, Lannister. [ The very name is a curse upon his tongue- spat forth like something rotten. A loathsome title, unworthy. ]

[beyondthewall]

And so the Young Wolf makes his grand return. You've attracted enough kneelers to build you a bridge.

[ but no malice from mance, just simple amusement. ]

[regretzio]

[strum]

♪ He forswore his oaths, so did Mance:
The Night's Watch doesn't let you wear fancy pants ♪

[motherofwinter]

You should be a bit kinder towards your mundane. They have control over us.

[northremembers]

Is the truth not a kindness? Control or no if she is to push past these fears she harbours then she must be made to see what path may lay before her. It is not unkind to offer a little preparedness.

[queensmoot]

You speak as if words and writings could never hurt anyone. Ay, they're softer than the edges of swords, but papers can still slice your hand, and utterances cut deep.

[greensight]

Mere writings? You speak as though words upon a page have never turned the tides of history. The power lies with those who wield it, not the weapon they choose.

[dornishqueen]

You could be nicer to her. Just because you've been on the front lines of battles and marshaled armies doesn't mean she has, and she's allowed to be scared the first time.

[thebaby]

Let Greywind play with her. She won't be scared of writing anymore.

[roared]

Ah, I see you've found your head. Do endeavor to keep it this time, if you would. Though, no doubt the absence of one of many kings was hardly missed.

[catelynjr]

She'll grow braver, Your Grace. [ Because that's what scared girls must do, especially with thoughts of you in her head. ]

...With time, of course. Words carry an undue weight to them, and perhaps she is just not used to them yet.

[regretzio]

[strum]

♪ Oh, for Sansa life's not easy
She can't catch any breaks
Her mentor's kind of sleazy
At least she has lemoncakes ♪

[valardohaeris]

Maybe you should tell my lady Mun those words, she never lets me out any more! I can fight, I can help, and she won't let me.

[dontcallmesammy]

Yeah, panicking's kind of what they do best. Especially when it comes to us, and if we sound right.

Still, this is the first time I've heard someone offering to help their mun in writing them. Most of the time they just want out of here.

[bolide]

[Well this one's a stranger. A fighter, certainly, but from nowhere in Westeros, not with skin that dark, nor with his easy smile. Neither mocking nor malicious, this one.]

They fear much, do they not? Give her a little time, perhaps she'll get used to you.

[burnsobright]

As best you can.

May the Seven protect your mundane, then.