20 Chapter 20: Robb, Bran

Robb

Robb smiled as he watched Ser Rodrik and Rickon practice in the training yard with wooden swords. He remembered his own training a decade ago with Jon, under Ser Rodrik's supervision, by order of his father.

Dressed in his training clothes, which included leather armor, Robb took a wooden sword from the rack, its weight, thanks to the lead inside, equivalent to that of a steel one.

Robb approached Ser Rodrik and Rickon. Rickon, tired of being easily pushed by Ser Rodrik's sword, attempted a charge, only to receive a dodge and a kick that sent him sprawling. Robb laughed as Rickon angrily got back up.

"Ser Rodrik, you seem to be in good form," remarked Robb. Ser Rodrik looked him up and down.

"The lord also seems to have not forgotten his training," said Ser Rodrik.

Motivated by the fear of not being able to save his family, Robb pushed himself to the limit in his training. He saluted with his wooden sword, and Rickon, getting up dusty, stepped aside with satisfaction.

Ser Rodrik shook his head realizing Rickon expected to be beaten. Robb frowned noticing Ser Rodrik's uncomfortable gaze on him.

Touching the carved wooden mask with runes covering half his face, Robb remembered its presence, chuckled, and got into position. Underestimating him would cost the old man some blows.

"Old man, you're quite confident lecturing a child," scoffed Robb. Ser Rodrik blinked, but then bared his teeth and got into position.

"Lord Wolf, prepare to take a beating," offered Ser Rodrik, attacking from his right side, supposed to be his blind spot.

Robb smoothly dodged the attack, causing Ser Rodrik to lose balance as he struck. While Ser Rodrik held his ribs, Robb explained:

"The Braavosi call it the water dance, a style for a light sword that doesn't rely on strength. It can be paired perfectly with a bastard sword."

Robb adapted this style to counter the strikes of Great Jon, who threatened to break his arms when they trained together.

Ser Rodrik grumbled about the foreign fighting style, but the blow to his ribs proved its effectiveness. Without saying a word, he requested a shield from one of the soldiers under his supervision. Robb smiled, noting the old knight's quick adaptation to his agile movement strategy, remembering how Great Jon called him "slippery snake."

After getting his shield, Ser Rodrik got back into position as Rickon secured a spot at the front of the soldiers. Despite his stature, Rickon's presence, like a Wild Wolf, intimidated everyone.

In the next bout, Robb attacked first, but Ser Rodrik countered skillfully. Robb attempted a diagonal cut, but Ser Rodrik's shield blocked the blow. Although Robb stepped back without a shield, they ended up in the same facing position.

With amazement, Ser Rodrik observed Robb's movements. Taking advantage of his enhanced vision, Robb smiled and asked:

"Ser Rodrik, do you think the old gods would leave me at the mercy of my enemies?"

The reality was the magic of the White Walkers, which granted him enhanced vision and the ability to perceive in all directions, but Robb preferred to keep it secret.

Ser Rodrik thanked the old gods and attacked without hesitation, spurred on by the guards.

…

"My lord, when should we cancel this training?" asked Ser Rodrik a few hours later, watching the soldiers run in the training yard.

Ser Rodrik referred to the arrival of firearms, which threatened to render traditional weapons obsolete. Ser Rodrik, master-at-arms of Winterfell, had already experimented with these weapons and knew their use was imminent. Robb could explain their handling, but there was no hurry, as he had just arrived the day before.

Robb looked at the training yard, reflected on his other life, and shook his head.

"Ser Rodrik, warfare will change in the future, but even when current weapons become obsolete, sword skills will still be trained. They are one of the ultimate representations of a person's strength and physical prowess, and we will always want to see how far we can go using them. A weapon that can be used with the squeeze of a trigger won't entertain anyone; only a person's skill can do that. This is a testament to humanity, as much as music, dance, or sculpture," said Robb.

"That's why, among these soldiers, select only those who possess the greatest talent, because glory and fame will continue to be earned with sword, bow, and spear," added Robb.

Robb thought of the Olympics from his previous life as a way to advertise and attract people to the North. However, he needed to start training his athletes before others realized the importance of this event for their territories.

Ser Rodrik pondered for several minutes and then nodded with a melancholic expression. Robb watched Rickon practice with his wooden sword vigorously.

"For Rickon, I think a broadsword would be most appropriate," said Rock.

"The boy is as fierce as his uncle Brandon," praised Ser Rodrik.

"I believe he will be a great representative for our house in the future," said Robb. If Rickon's character was properly focused, he would be an ideal prospect for a knight in future games.

…

Elsewhere, Robb entered Bran's solar, the office of the Lord of the North. Bran, reading documents with Hodor by his side, looked at him with hostility. Hodor seemed apprehensive, though Robb didn't understand why he still remained Hodor, as Bran was no longer the Three-Eyed Raven, and Robb had confirmed that Hodor wasn't like that in his youth. The possibility of a temporal paradox crossed Robb's mind.

"Bran, can we talk?" asked Robb.

"Lord Stark!" corrected Bran with hostility. Robb smiled and approached.

"Lord Stark, may I sit?" asked Robb. Bran looked at him suspiciously but didn't attempt to intrude into his mind, as Robb could now feel it.

"What do you want?" asked Bran suspiciously. Robb sat down in front of the desk.

"Bran, you seem to believe that I have wronged you," said Robb. Bran growled.

"You should have brought Robb," said Bran.

"Robb is stubborn; I could barely get him away from the Wall to make him lord of the Wildling city. As for me, in my former life, I heard a saying. 'Die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become a villain.' My power and influence were too much, and in the future, they would only be a burden to me. That's why I had to step aside, for my own good and that of our family," explained Robb.

"You could have taken the throne," accused Bran, without any fear.

"Are you cursing your own brother?" asked Robb.

"It's not my fault you were born first, it was your duty," excused Bran. "As king, you could have forced Jon out of the Wall, taken the position of lord of Winterfell, and Hodor and I would be off on an adventure right now…"

"You and Hodor would be freezing on the Wall, taking Jon's place," interrupted Robb. Bran grimaced. "The White Walkers won't give up; they wait for any weakness to attack. Or do you think as king I could go to the Wall and leave King's Landing alone?" asked Robb.

"Now you're on vacation," accused Bran, unwilling to accept his arguments.

"No, now I'm free to help my family and my grumpy little brother," said Robb with a smile.

"I don't want to be a lord, I'm tired of talking to old men and reviewing documents. Everyone treats me like I'm an idiot, and then they put on their idiotic faces when they see they can't trick me, because I know all their dirty tricks," complained Bran.

"Bran, you can't be a knight now. Qyburn's knowledge won't serve you unless you're willing to cut off your legs and move dead limbs. Since you haven't done that, I assume you're looking for a way to do it without resorting to this method," said Robb, and Bran looked at him in astonishment.

"Do you think I would leave you unguarded? The Three-Eyed Raven surpasses you in knowledge, skills, and experience; you stand no chance against him," said Robb.

"Nosy old man," said Bran.

"Bran, I don't want you spending your life on Hodor's back, and if you want to go on adventures, you can do so once you're an adult. I won't let my nine-year-old brother sneak around the Seven Kingdoms," said Robb.

"I'll be an adult in five years; your useless son will only be four years old by then," said Bran.

"And what if I promise you that by then someone else will occupy the lord's seat and that I will help you with your research to regain the use of your legs?" asked Robb.

"You can't trick me; I already know about your plans for Rickon," said Bran. Robb frowned; this brat couldn't be underestimated. He could still sneak into his head despite all his security measures.

"It won't be Rickon; I'll bring Sansa and Arya back in a few more years," said Robb. Bran thought for a few seconds.

"What will happen then?" asked Bran.

"Can't you see it?" asked Robb.

"That old man won't let me, and the White Walkers are also bothering," said Bran.

"If everything goes as planned, Daenerys will create her own kingdom there, and by the time Sansa returns, no lord will oppose her taking the position of Lady," said Robb.

…

Bran

Bran looked at his brother Robb with indecision. In this world, Bran didn't believe there was anyone who knew Robb better than he did, and that's why he understood that this brother of his was not at all an honorable person or someone to be trusted. His bad reputation was well earned, and Bran, who knew his thoughts, knew he was even worse than people thought.

Since his soul merged with the traveling soul, Robb completely changed his view of the world. He acted like a god, dictating the fate of everyone, and didn't ask anyone's opinion to do so. If he thought it was okay, then it was okay, and that's what should happen, regardless of the opinions of others involved.

To achieve these ends, Robb didn't care about honor, truth, justice; everything was discarded to achieve an end. Luckily, his brother wasn't yet so crazy as to discard the lives of innocents for his goals; if he were, this world would be in serious trouble.

Because of all this, Bran wasn't sure whether to believe him this time. He couldn't feel any ill intentions from Robb, but that didn't mean anything, because in his brother's twisted mind, what he considered good was good, and he didn't care about what others thought. That's why trying to figure out if he was being deceitful was a problem for Bran.

Bran couldn't come to any conclusion and looked at his closest advisor, who had an instinct for these things.

"Hodor, what do you think?" asked Bran.

"Hodor," advised Hodor cautiously, without hesitating for a second. From his response, Bran understood that he wasn't the only one who understood how twisted his brother Robb's mind was.

Bran looked at Robb, trying to convey the greatest threat and seriousness in his expression.

"Robb, if you don't fulfill your deal to the letter, without silly interpretations or sneaky additions, we'll truly be enemies," warned Bran with all the seriousness he could muster. Robb smiled, and Bran was left with many doubts.

…

"Hodor, I can't trust him, we'll have to keep a close eye on him," said Bran as Robb left.

"Hodor," Hodor agreed.

Bran continued to examine the documents that came to him; the duties of a lord were very difficult. Bran could only wish to be in the world where the other part of Robb's soul came from, to complain to some child protection agency and see if his brother's excuse of being cursed would serve to put him to work in his place.

Bran's main task at the moment was the railway, which would be built simultaneously at different points throughout the Seven Kingdoms. But he also had to ensure the development of the North, overseeing the maesters who arrived in search of minerals, fuels, wood, and a good location to build a dam.

As the new Lord, Bran had to ensure that these projects did not harm the future of the North. The felled trees had to be replanted, the mines should not dump waste into the rivers, and the remodeling and construction of cities had to comply with strict sanitary standards. A plague due to subhuman hygiene conditions was something he didn't want to face, especially knowing the terrifying stories from the world of that other place.

In addition to all this work, Bran would now also have to keep an eye on his brother in case he planned something.

Bran continued with his busy work life while Robb took charge of receiving some maester apprentices he obtained when he threatened the leading maesters of Oldtown with death. Robb sent a letter to the king demanding new laws regarding knowledge, as the maesters no longer served him and he needed millions of people who could read and write. The maesters and other lords were scandalized by this.

His brother dealt with the lords, threatening to take away their maesters to develop the kingdom's works if they didn't yield and manage on their own. As for the maesters themselves, who saw their knowledge as something that shouldn't be dispersed among the common people, they were threatened with destruction and the creation of what his brother called universities if they didn't agree to provide their apprentices and be instructors for the schools his brother was already planning throughout the kingdom.

The lords, who were not Idiots and knew that his brother was planning something, hurried to build schools and demand their own maesters, snatching them from his brother. That's why he let them go to keep all the apprentices, who were much more in number. Robb's goal was to teach reading, writing, and some arithmetic; he didn't need titled maesters for that.

Bran supposed he had planned everything from the beginning to keep the apprentices.

…

A week after Robb's arrival, the maester apprentices arrived, and Robb received them. He selected some of them and distributed the rest among the main cities of the North, establishing a salary and appointing them as masters of his schools.

To the selected group of maester apprentices, Robb took them to his workshop and showed them his plans to extract salt from the sea and what he called sugar from a vegetable, leaving the apprentices stunned. He promised riches to those who collaborated with him on this project and a gruesome death to those who said a word about it.

Robb needed these apprentices because apparently, he didn't quite know how to carry out his project, despite having the necessary basic knowledge; he needed to experiment and adapt what he knew to the tools he had.

"Hodor, he truly is twisted. The lords have been able to obtain the schools, but within this plan, there was another that will make him rich beyond all limits and that managed to go unnoticed," said Bran, taking his gaze away from the raven spying on Robb.

"Hodor," Hodor said in agreement.

Bran was not at ease, thinking that he too could be tricked, but Robb would get into real trouble this time if he planned to deceive him.

"Hodor, we have to stand up to him, we need to be serious and not allow ourselves to be swindled like the rest," said Bran determinedly, and Hodor nodded.

…

Robb

A month after his arrival in Winterfell, Robb smiled in his workshop as he held a handful of crystallized sugar. It had taken him three weeks to develop a process to extract it, but he had finally succeeded, although it was more difficult than he initially thought.

"It's done, as I promised, you'll have a ten percent stake in this enterprise," Robb said to his astonished ten collaborators, young people between fifteen and twenty years old.

With this stake and considering they would be the only sugar company in this world, one could only imagine how rich they would become. For Robb, there would be a ninety percent stake, but of this, forty percent would be like taxes for the realm. Stannis wouldn't steal his business, but if he saw that he was benefiting alone and not contributing anything, he wouldn't bother to help him when others wanted to steal his business.

For a business like sugar, Robb would undoubtedly need the entire army of the realm to protect its exclusivity, and giving forty percent of his profits to the realm would undoubtedly motivate them to defend him.

While his shareholders tasted the sweet result of their efforts, Robb thought about his other project. Winter was upon him, and he would only have time to produce one beet crop to make sugar. Extracting salt using the sun to create salt pans was a doomed project on this side of the world. It could be done with fire, but that would multiply the expenses and greatly reduce the profits; it wouldn't be any different from current salt extraction from mines. Robb shook his head and set aside this project for another place, starting to plan the beet cultivation and thinking about the base price he should offer for these crops to the peasants. It shouldn't be so much that they preferred to stop growing food, but it shouldn't be so small that none of them grew their raw materials. A terrain study would also be appropriate, and collecting production statistics for future improvement studies would also be necessary.

…

Robb was busy for another month, planning the planting before winter, which, as he had taken care of the walkers, wouldn't last long, and if it did, he would simply go ask them for explanations about their stubbornness in person. Without an army, the frozen guys were in his claws.

…

With the harvests underway and the construction of his sugar-producing factory in progress, Robb set off for King's Landing, leaving his mother with the promise that he would bring Sansa and Arya back with him on his return. His wife, Roslin, he left in Winterfell because, in his opinion, he had already fulfilled his duty by giving her an heir. On the other hand, his flesh was cursed and could only sire creatures from another world, and monsters, so it was better to stay away from his wife. Fortunately, his wife was from a minor house and couldn't complain about being abandoned, because if she were from a great house, Robb would be inundated with lawsuits right now.

On his journey to King's Landing, Robb took Rickon with him, as well as Ser Rodrik, and Bran gave him one of the new ships with cannons and an escort of a thousand men who already carried rifles and pistols as standard weaponry. With Robb also went Grey Wind and Shaggydog, who were his personal guards.

During the sea voyage, Ser Rodrik continued to train Rickon, who after several months learned that eating dirt and, in the case of ships, wood, was not to his liking, and he controlled his temper to a great extent, forging some of his character. Ser Rodrik taught him to read and write, giving him some classes on how to behave in society, although not in his current society, but in the future society.

Rickon was just a child, he was five years old, so Robb barely taught him anything, but he kept him by his side to follow his example on how to deal with people. The boy's tough character would be appropriate, and Robb wouldn't leave him behind.

It took them two weeks to reach King's Landing, and although Stannis didn't organize any welcome for him, people learned of his arrival and came out to greet him, throwing flowers in his path.

"Rickon, in this realm, if someone considers you cursed, you can be sure they'll throw shit in your face and spit on you," Robb said to his little brother, who rode beside him. They were flanked by Grey Wind and Shaggydog.

Rickon looked at the people throwing flowers in their path and then looked at the mask Robb wore on his face. Robb smiled, satisfied that the boy understood his words. Robb nodded.

"They throw flowers because, in the shadows, I've created my own story of sacrifice, honor, courage, and valor, and I've sent ravens to inform the right people of the terrible consequences it would have for them to talk nonsense, and thugs to deal with the less civilized ones, and talkers by trade, like bards and innkeepers, to tell and sing the right stories, giving some coins as positive reinforcement and brutal beatings for those who didn't heed my reasonable arguments," explained Robb. Rickon blinked, and Robb waved to the crowd.

…

Stannis received him in his throne room, with at least two hundred nobles who were sons, brothers, or nephews of the lords of the seven kingdoms, whose job was to stand there and whisper whatever they could to the king, while preventing others from doing the same or, failing that, finding out what others were whispering.

Robb walked up to the front of the Iron Throne, and along with Rickon, knelt down to greet. Stannis nodded and ordered them to rise with a wave of his hand.

"My Lord Wolf, I have heard of your sacrifice," said Stannis as Robb stood up. He looked at him with narrowed eyes, which meant that, like Bran, he suspected he was shirking his duties as lord.

"Majesty, has any news come from the Wall?" Robb asked in response, and the queen, who was in front of the throne with her daughter, hugged her and shivered a bit. The nobles present also seemed apprehensive, and some swallowed nervously, so a response from Stannis wasn't necessary; still, Stannis nodded.

"The Wall will be reinforced with twenty thousand men once my fleet returns from the Iron Islands; it shouldn't take more than a month," said Stannis.

"The North will hold firm until then," Robb assured.

"Without the Winter Wolf present due to a curse from these White Walkers?" Stannis asked again, accusingly. Robb placed his hand on Rickon's shoulder, who was starting to grow impatient.

"Majesty, I assure you, my lords have plenty of reasons to request my early retirement from the position of lord," said Robb, looking at those present. He touched his mask. "This mask was created by the Children of the forest and prevents my curse from having any effect on those around me. I can show you, but I fear some here may suffer from it," Robb warned.

The men looked at him with disdain, and the women whispered. Stannis smiled.

"Then, show us," said Stannis.

Robb nodded and removed the wooden mask, revealing the other half of his face, which was pale, and an eye so blue it seemed to emanate light.

As Robb didn't want things to be taken lightly, and Stannis to send him back to the North and forcibly reintegrate him into his Lord's work, he let them feel the magic of the White Walkers.

The temperature in the massive throne room dropped below freezing instantly, but the most terrifying aspect of the White Walkers wasn't the cold of winter, but the sensation of a cold, looming death that fell upon the people, causing screams and panic. Several women fainted, so a few seconds later, Robb put his mask back on.

"Chickens!" declared Rickon, whose body trembled a bit, but he managed to stand firm. Robb patted him on the head. Stannis looked at his wife, his daughter, and his Hand, and upon seeing that they were fine, ignored the rest.

"It seems that what is happening at the Wall is more urgent than we thought," said Stannis.

"The Walkers don't possess an army, but if they manage to breach the Wall, they won't lack recruits," said Robb. Stannis nodded.

"We'll keep them out. Do you plan to do anything about dealing with this problem?" Stannis said, referring to his curse.

"Majesty, the Old Gods have sent me against the Walkers and also offer me a way to rid myself of this curse. They, through the Children of the Forest, guide me to where there are dragons capable of removing any curse, so I thought to pay you a visit," said Robb, looking at little Shireen. Stannis frowned.

With Robb's words and his gaze on Shireen, Stannis and the nobles present came to the same conclusion, so they looked at Rickon beside him. The nobles seemed alarmed, but a look from Stannis prevented them from saying foolish things.

"Majesty, my journey is a good opportunity for growth for your heiress, and as one of your loyal subjects, I offer to serve as her mentor and impart some of my knowledge. I've heard that Princess Shireen has outstanding intelligence.

"On this journey, she will also have the company of my little brother Rickon, in whom I have noticed a great attachment to justice and laws. Perhaps one day he can serve as a legal advisor to our future queen," proposed Robb, and the nobles looked horrified.

"Majesty, this may be a dangerous journey…" Stannis raised his hand, and the man who spoke closed his mouth. Stannis didn't look at the noble who had spoken; he had his attention on little Rickon.

"Attachment to laws and justice?" Stannis asked doubtfully. Robb smiled.

"Rickon, if the nobles present here were to steal, accept bribes, or betray their oaths, what should be done with them?" Robb asked.

"Their heads should be cut off!" Rickon declared without hesitation, making some nobles flinch and the others look at him with displeasure. Stannis merely raised an eyebrow.

"Why?" Stannis asked curiously. Rickon looked at the nobles with a grim expression.

"Father was good. Father was just. Father was honorable. But father died at the hands of thieves and traitors," growled Rickon, as a tear spilled from his right eye and he wiped it away irritably. Stannis nodded and clenched his teeth.

"It seems we learn the hardest lessons as children," said Stannis, who seemed to have remembered something he didn't want to. He looked at Robb. "My Lord Wolf, as soon as you return from your journey, I will take this child into my care; we have many enthusiasts for theft and treachery in this city," said Stannis grimly, and the nobles seemed horrified by the possible future this represented.

…

"Robb, you've thrown Rickon into a pit of vipers, didn't you say you wouldn't leave your siblings in this place?" Jeyne asked sadly.

"That was until I spoke with Rickon; he will be a great support for Shireen, she's too meek," said Robb, sitting on a couch in Jeyne's chambers, while she watched him disapprovingly from a chair.

"Robb, now that you've announced that you're going to remove that stain from her face, you've also thrown her into a nest of vipers. The nobles didn't see her as a threat, and they even dared to hope that Stannis would die of grinding his teeth one of these days.

"But now, you've announced that you'll back his heiress, and you're also threatening them with a king as strict as Stannis himself. Robb, do you want another war?" Jeyne asked seriously. Robb leaned back on the couch.

"Jeyne, have you heard the phrase that says: 'the seeds of war are sown in times of peace'?" Robb asked, and Jeyne thought for a few seconds.

"Does that mean you think we're still at war?" Jeyne asked.

"I would say post-war. And it's at this moment where we must ensure peace and not give anyone hope about the throne. It's part of that peace. Everything must be established on firm foundations. Shireen will be the queen, and Rickon will cut off the head of anyone who questions it. The line of succession must be secured because it's the weak point of this system of government.

"With the throne secured, and no one harboring illusions about it, the nobles will focus on other matters and look sideways to compete among themselves. That won't lead us to war, not now that they're about to lose their military power," explained Robb.

"Unless they manage to get rid of little Rickon or Shireen," Jeyne countered.

"If you've grown fond of her, I suppose she has charisma and will be a great queen. That's good, after Stannis has chopped off enough heads, we'll need someone kind, so that fear doesn't reign," said Robb.

"Robb!" Jeyne scolded helplessly.

"I just want to make sure my efforts don't go to waste, and so, in about ten years, we could have guaranteed vacations," Robb excused himself.

"Forget it!" Jeyne said with a sigh. "The queen wants to accompany Shireen, but Stannis has been grinding his teeth telling her she can't leave. I think he got angry because he couldn't let her go. The princess will be ready in three days, and the nobles are already preparing to embark with her.

"Now that you've made her the heir by force, not everyone will try to kill her. Some of the nobles will start competing with Rickon for her hand, and they've already thrown their sons and daughters into the competition, because if they manage to catch Rickon, their children will have all the opportunities," warned Jeyne.

"Being coveted by all the women in a kingdom, Rickon will love me when he reaches adolescence," Robb said with satisfaction. Jeyne looked at him as if he were an idiot.

"If they achieve something, he'll have to take responsibility," Jeyne said, and Robb looked at her as if she were foolish.

"Jeyne, with me as his mentor, by the time Rickon reaches adolescence, he'll already be a master in the noble art of sneaking into the beds of those who offer him their favors and not leaving any evidence behind…" said Robb. "Shireen should also be educated…"

"If you go near her, I'll tell Stannis and your head will roll!" Jeyne reprimanded. "I'll make sure she's not deceived," she added more calmly. Robb raised his hands.

"Jeyne, you should leave this to the experts, you have no experience," said Robb.

"Robb, at Winterfell, the depraved one was Theon, you got a wife by arrangement, and you never had a girlfriend," said Jeyne.

"Jeyne, I learn by watching, and I've seen things that would make Cersei blush. I'm the closest thing to an expert you can get," said Robb.

"We're not looking for an expert in depravity. Stay away from Shireen!" Jeyne scolded. "I'll take care of teaching her common sense; that will be enough," Jeyne concluded.

Robb didn't say more because Jeyne used a definitive tone, and if he insisted, she would go to Stannis, but Robb knew that teenagers used common sense like toilet paper and he wouldn't risk it.