Chapter Text
Any thoughts of the lies the Nobles South had given in regards to Sansa, to what the fuck actually occurred in the Sept that day, fell his mind the second the first spider came through.
Because.
That.
That is fucking magic like that of which is impossible to deny.
Next to him, Jon let out a helpless laugh.
“Think I’m a liar now?”
Robb winces.
He had not thought his brother a liar- he was not his mother- but part of him had wondered if the conditions of the Wall had made him… well. Imagine horrors beyond. What were Grumpkins, snarks and Others? Nothing but tales of ages long past. His concern, always, was the state of the War against the South. He had honestly just did not wanted to deal with anything… Anything that was beyond his borders. Imagine his fucking surprise.
“Not now, Jon!” He hissed, he lifted his sword, took a breath, and screamed out, “MEN HOLD THE LINE.”
His mother, his sister, and Jeyne stood behind them.
He would not lose more kin, to magic, to war, to betrayal- not again.
His brother echoed him. He did not flinch as spearmen, who had scrambled to assembly, slid their weapons between the spaces of his arms, ready for the onslaught of the spider, the creature the size of a hound. Next to them, Greywind and Ghost hunkered low. Ears pinned back. Greywind snarled, a warning. The thing gave a shrill, hissing reply.
Behind him, he heard Uncle Bryden:
“READY YOUR BOWS!”
“NOCK!” called out Prince Oberyn Martel.
“MARK!”
“FIRE!” They called in unison.
For a moment, the light of the sun behind him was blocked. And then arrows pierced the spider’s legs, but not its back. Within him, faintly, Robb wondered how, by the Maiden, Sansa had faced anything like this.
His delicate sister, the girl who cried if mud got on her skirt, had lived through something like this?
“Fuck,” Jon muttered.
The spider went down. Twitching - not dead. Just unable to move due to the legs. The arrows hadn't pierced its hide, but it had taken out its legs.
Another spider came.
Larger. Fangs spitting. Another spider behind it.
“NOCK!”
Another.
“MARK!”
“FIRE!”
Another.
“NOCK!”
Another.
Another-
It did not take long for the spiders to reach the line. Wood splinters. Spears break. The cracking sounds like thunder in his ears. Robb tried for the legs-His castle steel shattered the first accidental hit against its hide. Left in his hands is just a half-broken blade. He doesn't stop. Cannot stop. He braces with one hand and keeps the blade pressed against the spider’s body. His family is behind him. Next to him.
And Robb- Something in him snapped.
Next to him, GreyWind snarled, and it was an echo from between his own teeth. A song from their shared hearts.
“We will defend our pack, Regal Robb,” hisses Grey-Wind, his voice was as familiar as the sound of Robb’s own.
He did not blink at it. Did not hesitate at its sound. Even if he feels like he should.
But it’s like he has suddenly been forced to wake. That he was half asleep and did not even realize it.
For a moment, it is too much.
Too much light.
He felt blinded.
Too much sound.
Hisses. Snarls. Spitting. Crying women frantically praying. The clang of steel breaking against armored spider backs-
Too much smell.
More than one man or woman had pissed themselves. The venom ached in his nostrils.
Too much of himself.
But it did not matter. Beneath his hold, the spider squealed, and instinctively, Robb knew he could do it.
He crushed it in his grip.
Viseral.
Green and purple guts spilled down his armored arms. Robb kept moving, howling, howling Grey-Wind at his side. Hands ready.
A spider is down.
And another.
Another.
Another.
Another.
“Sweet fucking-” Jon cried out, even as Robb smashed another hit, “Your Grace- Robb, Robb, brother please, can you understand me?!”
Robb blinked. Swivels. Looked at his brother. Chest heaving. Arms dripping with the remains of the spiders.
“This is not the time, Snow,” his voice did not sound like his own. There was… weight to it. A deepness that-
It did not sound human.
“Fuck,” cried out Jon, and he was pale, his grey eyes-
They shone like grey, indigo-tinted stars.
Around Long-Claw, Robb flinched back a step as the sword burst into flames. And Jon yelled directly as he set a wall of flame to more spiders.
But it did not matter, not quite yet, as more spiders were coming.
Robb could smell their rotten stench. And he would not lose anyone else.
“Forward,” he tells his brother, “We cannot lose.”
“Aye,” Jon said, voice grave, “I am with you, my King.”
Robb howled his approval, even as he spun to face their enemies.