Jacob II

Two days later, Jacob had been standing in front of the long view mirror of his room in Winterfell, as it was the best for a king's nephew.

His face was clean-shaven and was neatly dressed in a long white tunic, with blue and orange patterns, representing the white, orange and blue colours of House Florent, the family his mother Selyse belonged to before she married his father.

He was in a pair of white breeches and a pair of dark orange coloured boots, being in the North and the weather not being agreeable to Jacob's southern senibilities.

The young man tied his hair back in a ponytail, as he noticed the growth of his hair, since his last visit to Oldtown. His sapphire blue eyes reflected the coldness inside him, as his stare was blunt and still.

"My Uncle and his court are visiting, I must be wary of my surroundings and not be blinded by the grandeur and the gold."

Jacob put the gold and black furred cloak on his shoulders, brushing it down, as he wanted to look presentable when his King Uncle came to Winterfell.

The young man scowled at his reflection in the mirror, as it was one of his father's traits the boy of five and ten inherited, much to the dislike of his Uncle Renly and some of the Stormlords.

"A prig, humourless and a bore...just like his father." Jacob heard in crueller circles in court and around the South.

Jacob never paid attention to what a bunch of arse licking nobles said about him, because if he was king, then he would have cut some of their tongues out and maybe put the dumbest of idiots to the sword, to save the realm from such stupid ramblings.

He remembered the times his Uncle Robert wanted to have him in court, as he was surrounded by blonde haired, green-eyed schemers and needed someone from his immediate family to have around.

Jacob rejected those offers, as he couldn't; stand the stench of King's Landing and the fruitless ladies, who would follow him around like the irritating hounds Willas would take care of.

"Thank the Gods, I don't have to see Patchface, if I saw him near my sister again, then I might slip up and kill him."

Of Patchface the fool, Jacob felt a coldness from the clown, as he didn't approve of his sister not having any friends her age, but playing with the fool, whose intentions were unknown.

The only reason why Jacob didn't kill the fool, was the love he had for his little sister and how sad she would be if her only friend was dead.

Jacob fastened his scabbard, which contained his sword named Limos, as it was a fifteenth nameday gift from his fostering family; the Tyrells, one of the only gifts his father Stannis didn't send back.

The doors of his chambers opened for it to be his squire Devan Seaworth, one of the seven sons of the Onion Knight.

He was a good boy and served Jacob well, even though the young man was once a squire to Lord Randyll Tarly in his youth.

"The King has almost arrived, my lord." Devan announced, with Jacob turning around to give a short huff of amusement.

"It's strange, it's only been a few moons, since I saw my Uncle. He insisted on throwing me a tourney for my fifteenth nameday, but my father and mother refused." Jacob replied politely, "Where is your father?"

"In the Great Hall finishing his meal."

"Tell him to make preparations for our voyage home, since I don't plan to stay in Winterfell after my uncle and the royal family leave the North."

"Yes, my lord." The boy said, leaving the young man's bedchambers.

A smile perched on Jacob's face, he liked Devan, being a dutiful boy and was a good companion for Shireen, as the two were the same age.

Jacob rarely smiled, one of the only times he truly had a great smile on his face, was his first kiss with Lady Desmera Redwyne, something he only told the Onion Knight and no one else.

Desmera was a nice girl, but Jacob disliked her brothers Horas and Hobber, only because of their unfortunately stupid names.

"Gods...what stupid names, more fruitless than Uncle Robert's Lannister squire."

Jacob exited his guest bedchambers, to pass down the stairs of the Great Hall, as the inside of Winterfell was more imposing than it was outside.

A lot of the servants and maids were scurrying around, as it was the day his Uncle Robert was to visit his old friend, and bring the royal family North with him.

Jacob was careful not to get in the way of the caretakers of the great castle, as he stepped outside of the Keep to feel the rush of the coolness hit his face.

"I hope cousin Joffrey behaves himself, as he is a guest in another's home." Jacob thought sourly, of his royal cousin.

Jacob hadn't seen his Crown Prince Cousin, since the prince's last nameday tourney. The relations between the two were harsh at best.

He envied Joffrey for not being forced to be fostered anywhere, as Jacob had to stay in Highgarden with the Tyrells and earn his knighthood.

Jacob thought Tommen and Myrcella were tolerable, as the prince and princess had more manners and respect, expected of children of the king and queen.

The young man saw many people assemble into a straight line, as he was looking around to find Robb, he couldn't see the auburn-haired heir to Winterfell through the sea of people.

His eyes were wondering around, with the young man pushing through some of the others, as he made his way to the front of the line to find Robb, standing with his bastard brother Jon and Theon, the empty headed ward.

"Where have you been, my father has been looking for you?" Robb said, with a hand on Jacob's shoulders.

"Making myself look presentable, as I don't want my uncle seeing me look a mess." Jacob replied.

Theon sniggered from behind, but Jacob was trying to contain the surge to slap him. "Have you ever smiled, always with that sad look on his face?"

"Only because I am in your presence, Greyjoy?" Jacob said slyly, with a quick smirk on his face.

"Glad to be of service, southorn git."

"At least, after the King's visit I don't have to see your ugly mug again." Jacob said, catching the eye of Lord Eddard Stark and sliencing himself.

Jacob has seen intimidating men before, being in the presence of his father, Lord Tarly and now the Lord of Winterfell.

The young man saw Jon hiding in the back, as he didn't know why. "Why is your brother hiding at the back?"

"My lady mother thought his presence would offend the king and the royal family, during the visit." Robb said solemnly.

Jacob looked over at Jon Snow with a saddened look in his eyes. "Pity, he's not a bad person or has done anything wrong."

"Happy to see your uncle again."

"I have not seen him, since my fifteenth nameday." Jacob said, with his ponytail pushed back.

Jacob pitted Jon, only because his bastardy status condemned him by most of the people to be a stain on his father's honour and an insult to Lady Catelyn and her trueborn children.

It was the same pity, Jacob bestowed on Willas, as his broken leg deemed him unsuitable to marry any woman, but if he was a woman, he would have married the man for his good heart, not because he pitted his bad leg.

Jacob's eyes were on the retinue of men at arms, guards and at least two members of the Kingsguards riding through the gates of Winterfell.

Most of the guards were in red, as they were mostly Lannister men, but there were men in gold and black, signifying that there were Baratheon men after all in the retinue.

A red and gold patterned wheelhouse riding in, as Jacob had seen the royal wheelhouse before, on one of his many trips to court, as it must have housed the Queen and the royal children, along with some handmaidens for the princess.

A hair from Jacob's head was misplaced, with his two fingers smoothing it down. He didn't want to look unkempt, as it was one of the southorn influences his mother had instilled in him.

There was a knight in black, as Jacob spotted the knight to be Sandor Clegane, his cousin Joffrey's sworn sword and was a dangerous killer, with Ser in his title.

More knights in white and gold had come through the passes, as he, along with most of the people around had gone on one knee and knelled.

At the corner of Jacob's eye, a horse had come between two Kingsguard knights, beside the royal wheelhouse, with the young man's eyes widened, seeing his Uncle Robert came past the knights in gold and white.

Jacob was shocked to see how fat his Uncle had become, he was not the demon of the Trident that he was years ago and had let himself go, significantly. It must be the stresses of ruling and keeping the kingdoms together.

The young man had seen his Uncle was bigger than the stead his rode, as he had sympathy towards the horse.

Behind his Uncle, was Jacob's cousin and the Crown Prince Joffrey, who was dressed in the colours of House Lannister, no doubt his mother's influence. The prince had a look of distain on his face, as if those in Winterfell were not worthy of his presence.

The people around him rose, as the king commanded.

Jacob watched, as Lord Stark and his Uncle Robert hugged each other in brotherly comradery; his heart warmed, as he longed to have a long, historic friendship, as the two men in front of him did.

"Boy...aren't you're going to give your uncle a hug." His Uncle shouted, with the young man becoming red faced.

"Sure..." Jacob stuttered, then making his way to be pulled into a crush, blowing hug by his Uncle.

Jacob could feel his uncle's weight crushing against his body, but he was warm and smiled at seeing his favourite uncle again.

After his Uncle greeted Lady Catelyn, Jacob's eye caught on his uncle's wife and queen Cersei, who strode along gracefully, her green eyes were snake like, as if she saw something not worthy of her view, as the Queen.

The Queen brought the other royal children Tommen and Myrcella with her. Jacob noticed all three of the royal children had the Lannister looks of golden hair and green eyes, while he had the Baratheon looks of blue eyes and black hair.

The royal family made their way into the Great Keep, as Jacob followed them through with eyes watching his surroundings everywhere.

As the hours grew late, the feast was an enormous fair, far enough for the North to pull out this much extravagance, when royalty is visiting the region.

There was a lot of food on the table, even though Jacob couldn't stand the sight of more food than necessary, it was the same feeling his father had about Uncle Robert hosting a lot of tourneys.

Jacob understood, sometimes a little bit a extravagance was alright, to keep the common people satisfied and loyal to their respective lords, but too much will make people spoiled and ungrateful.

The young man sat in between Robb and Arya, with Jacob's eyebrow arching at the sight of the Queen's brothers Ser Jamie and Lord Tyrion entering, whom were different to each other in terms of appearance and height.

"And I thought the royal children and I were different in terms of looks." Jacob thought to himself.

After everyone took their seats, the king called for the feast to begin, with many people around him diving into get the best piece of meat.

Whilst eating, Jacob caught his Uncle pulling a serving girl to his lap and shamelessly throwing himself at her, at the presence of his lawful wife and queen.

The young man was taught to respect a woman's honour, even though men take their status, as the preferred gender for granted, but he ignored the noise and cheering around him.

For a boy used to silence and calm, Jacob did not like huge feasts because of the nonsense songs and stupid bards trying to sing for a bit of gold.

"My lord, why do you always think the sky is falling down." Robb japed, noticing Jacob's grim expression.

"Such comradery and parties are not amusing to me." Jacob replied in a stern tone.

Jacob's eye caught on Arya, attempting to throw a piece of bread at her sister Sansa's head, who was staring lovingly at Prince Joffrey; it was normal for girls to look at his cousin, being the heir to the throne and the Crown Prince.

The young man groaned, at the sight of Uncle Robert putting his hands under the serving girl's skirts. He had the urge to slap him silly, for dishonouring himself in front of his wife, whom was present and had a cold stare in her eyes.

Jacob learned the players of the game well, as Lannisters did not take dishonour and questioning of their power very lightly, just ask the extinct houses of Tarbeck and Reyne.

"What's it like, in the capital?" Robb asked.

"The capital is the cesspool of treachery and deceit, it's the snake pit." Jacob said lowly.

"I always thought King's Landing was glamorous."

"It's what people say to those who haven't seen through the veil, all that stuff is just a mummer's farce, to cover up the truth." Jacob said tiredly.

"Most of the ladies believe you to be half-horse."

"What." Jacob exclaimed, keeping quiet so the royal family and Lord and Lady Stark didn't hear.

"It's a compliment to how well you ride a horse."

"Spending most of my childhood in the Reach has taught me a few things."

"Are you lying?"

"No and why."

"A young man such as yourself, being fostered in a region known to be the heart of chivalry and courtly love."

"It's where I attended my first grand wedding, earned my knighthood squiring for Lord Tarly and where the Arbor wine tastes the best."

"Not a fan of Dornish."

"No…a bit too sour for my tastes. The Dornish love their spices and flavours, when it comes to food."

As the two young men were talking, Jacob knew the Onion Knight and Devan sat at another table, with Colin and Erren. He wanted to sit with them, but it would be rude to leave the high table, as the king wanted him to sit there.

"Jake…you refused a tourney on your nameday, why." Uncle Robert yelled, slurring through his words. He was drunk, as it was obvious.

"I'm not a fan of tournaments, Uncle. You know that." Jacob said clearly, in what his mother called his authoritarian tone.

"You will be wed soon; you are of age and your father cannot refuse."

"Uncle…." Jacob snapped, with his face turning strawberry red and a hand covering a part of his face, to not allow the Starks to see him embarrassed.

"You maybe my nephew, but you are talking to the king."

"My father and mother are finding prospects, there is no need to worry, Uncle. You have more important things to worry about."

"Before the dreaded winter comes, you better be married to some highborn girl with a rich father and can bring swords to Dragonstone."

The feast carried on, with Jacob being a bit red faced and embarrassed from his Uncle's drunken humiliation, but he knew it was the wine making his uncle speak nonsense.

Jacob sat back and smiled briefly, so the others don't see it for themselves.

He sighed, under his breath; he wanted this feast of loudness and noise to end soon.