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"You there, fix that properly. It's far too messy, it's irritating just to look at.
And that part over there looks too plain. Put up some colorful ribbons to dress it up."
Inside the banquet hall of Winterfell's main keep, dozens of candles made the interior as bright as day. At that moment, Catelyn, her face slightly flushed, was directing the servants as they straightened tables and chairs that had been left out of place and decorated the hall with flowers and colorful cloth.
Hodor, huge and burly, stood to the side holding the now-awake Bran in his arms, expressionless, merely watching.
Rickon ran happily after Shaggydog, weaving through the servants and causing even more chaos for those who were already busy.
"Lady Catelyn, Lord Robb is about to reach Winter Town. We should go prepare to receive him in the yard!"
Dressed in maester's robes and wearing his chain, Maester Luwin hurried in and passed along the news brought by the soldiers.
"Everyone, faster! As soon as you finish here, go straight to the yard to receive him!"
Hearing that time was short, Catelyn began urging the servants on even more sharply.
...
Clop! Clop!
The hooves of thousands of horses struck the damp earth, producing a broken, continuous sound.
The men, women, elderly, and children of Winter Town stood on both sides of the road, watching the riders pass before them with excited faces.
From time to time, they whispered among themselves about the grandeur and discipline of the column.
"By the gods, the army trained by Lord Robb is magnificent. Even their spirit feels different from before!"
"Of course. I heard two days ago that he took the Dreadfort, that place that frightens children into tears.
In thousands of years, it's the first time the Dreadfort has ever been taken by force."
"Hey, isn't that the lord of House Bolton? I saw him once from a distance when he came to Winterfell with a few hundred riders.
A figure that important... and now he's in chains like a prisoner."
Dragging heavy chains as he walked slowly, Roose could naturally hear the loud talk of those damned commoners.
He wanted to flay them alive right there.
But at the moment, he had the desire but none of the power. All he could do was lower his head and pretend he heard nothing.
Tap!
Bloodwind, walking in front beside Robb, suddenly turned his head and dodged a small stone thrown from the left. The next instant, he pushed off with all four paws and leaped over the heads of the commoners.
"Ah!"
"Run!"
"That nearly scared me to death!"
Because of the overwhelming presence of the giant wolf, the commoners he leapt over panicked and began scattering in all directions, shouting as they ran.
"Bloodwind!"
At the sound of Robb's voice, Bloodwind, mouth open and fangs bared, stopped his next move right in front of a filthy little boy's face.
Huff! Huff!
From that savage maw, terrifying enough on its own, came white breath thick with the stench of blood, making the boy tremble so badly from fear that he nearly threw up.
"Ah, Aeg! My lord, mercy!!!"
Among the watching commoners, a middle-aged woman finally came back to her senses and threw herself forward.
She grabbed hold of the boy, who had been bold enough to throw a stone at the wolf, and began crying as she begged for mercy.
"Come back!"
At Robb's call, Bloodwind turned to leave, but before doing so, with obvious mischief, he still stretched out his long tongue and licked the boy across the face.
"Ugh... waaah!"
Convinced he was about to be eaten, the boy instantly wet himself and burst into tears.
Sensing the mischievous delight coming from him, Robb rolled his eyes in annoyance. Then he pulled a silver stag from inside his cloak and flicked it lightly toward the woman.
"The child had a great fright. Buy him something good to calm him down."
"Thank you! My lord is merciful, may you continue to enjoy health and riches!"
Seeing that her son had been spared and that she had even been given a silver stag, the woman immediately began blurting out awkward praise.
After that small incident, the Winterfell army continued forward. But now the focus of the commoners' whispers was no longer the grandeur of the army.
Now they were talking about Bloodwind, the giant beast, Robb Stark the merciful, and the good fortune of that mother and child.
...
The victorious returning column stretched for several miles, but once back at Winterfell, Robb and the other commanders no longer needed to worry so much.
Winterfell's officers would naturally take care of matters such as housing prisoners, treating the wounded, recording and storing the spoils, and everything else.
By the time they reached the yard, his mother, Catelyn, was already there with everyone from the inner keep, welcoming him with the same pomp used when the king had visited Winterfell.
"Mother!"
With a broad smile, Robb dismounted, called out, and opened his arms to embrace her.
"Thank the gods you've returned safely! I already sent a raven to your father telling him about this war. He will be proud of you!"
Seeing her eldest son come back with no obvious injuries, Catelyn's face shone with joy.
"Mother, I had to use four thousand men as bait. More than two thousand eight hundred of them died."
Hearing that, Robb showed no happiness. In front of his own mother, he had no need to pretend, so he spoke in a low voice, full of guilt.
"They gave their lives for their lord. You must make sure their families receive the compensation they deserve."
Catelyn ran a hand through the soft hair of her eldest son and answered in a gentle voice.
"I will. The gains from this campaign far exceeded what I ever expected."
After letting out a little of his weakness, Robb felt much better. Straightening up, he nodded.
"I'll do that."
"Mm, then that's settled. Robb, you are much stronger than you think."
Catelyn smiled and encouraged her son, who made her see Eddard's shadow in him.
Robb nodded, then moved past her and stopped in front of Hodor.
When he saw Bran, still with the same youthful face as always, but with none of the old liveliness left in his eyes, his heart tightened, and he kissed his brown hair.
"Bran, don't worry. Your brother will make you recover."
"Robb, you should know that my legs are never going to recover."
Bran no longer called him with the warmth he once had. Instead, he said his name coldly, almost as if he were speaking to a stranger.
"Mm, I know. But I will make you recover."
Robb did not mind that coldness at all and answered with the same smile.
Deep down, he told himself that he would bring Bran back to being that cheerful, lively boy, and that he would never allow him to become the Three-Eyed Raven.
After that, he played a little with little Rickon, then went to see Jory, who had returned to Winterfell to recover from his wounds, greeted Dacey, who had remained guarding Winterfell by following his orders to the letter, diligent, tireless Maester Luwin, the idle Osha, and many others...
After going around and greeting them one by one, Robb dismissed everyone, saying they would meet again that night in the banquet hall.
Bloodwind's body had already grown too large to enter Robb's room, so he now had a chamber all to himself.
It was located at the far left corner of the first floor of the main keep, directly below Robb's own chambers.
This war had kept him away for more than half a month, and now he was finally back in his familiar solid wooden bed. After a proper bath, tired from the return journey, he lay down and took a nap.
By the time the servants woke him, the sun was already setting.
Wearing the fine casual clothes Catelyn had ordered prepared especially for him, Robb, handsome and imposing as ever, made his way to the banquet hall.
That dinner had been arranged with great care by his mother. It was both a celebration of victory and a welcoming feast. There were fruits of every kind, fine breads, great platters of meat, and a generous variety of food.
Seated in the place of honor on the raised dais, Robb struck the long table twice with force and then rose to his feet with his goblet in hand.
The conversations throughout the hall stopped at once, and every eye turned toward him.
"Beyond the Wall, tens of thousands of wildlings are still gathering their strength. Tomorrow, our training cannot slacken in the slightest.
But that has nothing to do with today. This day belongs to all of us. We are the victors, so eat and drink to your hearts' content.
A toast to our victory!"
"A toast!"
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