The Bite of Winter

Robb

Six weeks after Jons resurrection

His heart ached at the sight of Winterfell in the distance. He had been a boy when he left for war. Now he was a man. 

Jon sat on his grey mare, his face somber as his eyes rested on their home. Their meager party sat on their horses in silence. The knights of the Vale, house Royce, and House Reed would arrive in a few day's time and attack from the south, while Jon and Robb attacked from the north. They had the numbers for an even fight on the field, but winter crept towards them, the likelihood of surviving a siege decreased. Their only choice was to lure Ramsay into a battle, but he would never meet them openly on the field if he knew of their true numbers. 

The Boltons party rode towards them. Robb's eyes fell on Ramsay, who was easy to pick out in a crowd. His pale skin was covered in red splotches and his black hair hung limp around his face. His eye's matched those of his father, they were pale blue, like dirty ice. 

"Your grace." Ramsay greeted in a mocking tone. He was looking at Jon, but Robb couldn't help but feel as if the jape was aimed at him as well. 

"Ramsay Snow," Jon said cooly.

Ramsay's eyes flashed with rage at the use of his bastard name. "Have you come to discuss the terms of your surrender?"

"No, we have come to discuss the terms of yours." Robb cut him. He found it difficult to keep his voice steady. This was the son of the man who took everything from Robb.

"Are you sure about that, pup?" Ramsay's face twisted into something that mirrored a smile. "You don't have the men, or the horses, or the resources. I could crush you on the field, but if I choose not to, you wouldn't last a month with the on-coming winter storms. But, I am a man of mercy. Simply get off of your horses and kneel. I will spare your troops and the treasonous houses that have allied themselves with you. There is no need for a battle."

"You're right, there is no need for a battle." Robb's eyes shot to Jon. What was he saying? He couldn't be considering bending the knee to a man like this. "Thousands of men don't need to die, only one of us. Let's end this the old way. You against me." 

A chuckle escaped Ramsay's lips. "Tempting as it is to slide my sword into your chest, I must decline. I don't know if I can beat you, but I do know that my army can beat yours."

Jon actually smiled. It wasn't a kind one or a genuine one. Not the kind of smile that Robb had ever seen Jon wear. This smile was the smile that their lord father had worn when entertaining foolish vassals. "Aye, you outnumber us, but will your men want to fight for you, if you won't fight for them?"

"You're good, very good." Ramsay grinned. "I have no worries about the loyalty of my men. You see, most of them have grown rather fond of my wife, Lady Arya, and they would hate to see their favorite toy taken away." 

Robb's chest tightened. He watched as Jon's jaw clenched with rage.

"You're all fine-looking men as well, my dogs will enjoy the treat of tearing you limb from limb when you lose the battle tomorrow. Except for you two," His eyes feel on Robb and Jon. "It would be nice to have a pet wolf and a pet dragon, both are dying breeds." He swung his horse around and made his way back to Winterfell with his men. 

Once they were out of earshot, Jon turned to Davos. "How far out are the knights of the Vale?" He rasped. 

"About two days," Davos answered. 

"Send a raven, tell them to make haste. We fight tomorrow." Jon put a heel to his horse and set off towards their camp at a trot. Robb trotted after him.

"Are you sure about this? Can we hold them off long enough for the knights to arrive?" He asked.

"I hope so, but it is our only chance. We need him to meet us on the field if we have any hope of winning." Jon answered. His grey eyes were dark with emotion. 

By the time they arrived at camp, their men had finished setting up. "You're grace, a Lady Brienne of Tarth has requested your presence." Jon's squire Devan said as he took Jon's horse. 

"Thank you, Devan, please send her to my tent." A steward took Robb's horse and he followed after Jon to his tent, where a familiar large woman and a boy were waiting. 

"Brienne?" He asked, confusion in his voice. Brienne's eyes fell on him.

"Jon Rivers?" She exclaimed. 

Jon looked between the pair, clearly not sure what to make of the situation.

"I ran into her on the road to the wall when I came looking for you, she told me about Arya," Robb explained. "I told her my name was Jon Rivers."

Jon nodded slowly.

"I'm sorry for lying, Lady Brienne. My true name is Robb Stark."

Brienne's eyes went wide. "Son of Lady Catelyn? I was her sworn sword."

It was Robb's turn for his eyes to go wide. Now that she mentioned it, his mother had told him of her new sword who she had sent off with the Kingslayer to save Sansa and Ayra. 

"She sent me to Kingslanding with the Kingslayer in order to rescue your sisters. When I got there, Sansa had already disappeared and there was no word of Arya."

"Sansa disappeared?" Jon cut in. They hadn't heard any news of Sansa leaving Kingslanding.

"At Joffery's wedding, she went missing. Part of me presumed that she would have found her way to you." 

Jon shook his head. 

"Are you here to try and rescue Arya?" Robb asked softly.

"Yes, I swore to Lady Catelyn that I would protect her daughters. I intend to keep that vow." 

Robb's face softened. His mother would be happy that Lady Brienne took her oath to his family so seriously. 

"And you shall. Tomorrow, we will save Arya." Jon said gently, a fire burning in his eyes.