Robb

He almost could not believe what Frey's messengers had to say. Almost.

"Our father asks that ye' come to apologize to him personally," said the shorter Black Walder Frey.

"Ye've greatly offended him, as ye well ken," slurred the other, taller brother, Lothar," and the only way to soothe his wounded pride is for the King of the North to go to the Towers." The young Frey's speech was thick with his regional accent and the large quantities of mead he'd consumed since his arrival in Riverrun.

"You do realize that I am in the middle of fighting a war?" Robb tried very hard to sound haughty and full of authority, and succeeded. The mask he had put on after his father's death was beginning to be more of a second skin than a costume. He had once been a boy trying to act as he though a man should—now he was almost a man, but he still looked back and wished for simplicity.

"Oh, Lord Frey kens well that yer leading the fight," the first Frey spoke up again.

"—but he also kens that you cannot go on without his help," Lothar Frey finished his brother's thought, "and, he'd like for a payment-of-sorts to ease the loss of a match with the King of North."

"In short," the Black Walder spoke up again, "he wants your uncle to finally take a Frey's hand in marriage." Robb could hear his Edmure gasp and choke to his right, but he ignored it.

"So, these are your father's terms? I must go to the Twin Towers and Lord Tully must marry a Frey? And, then, Lord Frey will join the war for the North," he already knew what Frey wanted, but Robb needed Edmure to grasp the gravity of the situation.

"Aye, that's so," barked the drunk Lothar, "we'll be leaving tomorrow morning, we expect an answer before then," at least they were giving Robb time to convince his uncle about the necessity of accepting one of Frey's daughters.

"Thank you for relaying the message, you will have my response before nightfall," and with that the two men got up from the table and walked out of the room. Robb had already decided that he had to accept Frey's terms-or else the North would certainly lose the war. He just did not like that he would have to bend to the Lord's will and go to the Twin Towers. But, he was the one who had decided to take a hard stance against Karstark's disobedience—and now he had to pay the price.

"Excuse me," began Edmure Tully, "I will not marry a Frey. Frey has tried over the years for such a match—and I refuse. He has many daughters, and I have yet to meet an attractive one…" his uncle had trailed off toward the end, but through the mumbling Robb could hear, "I've hear of the mythical pretty Frey, but not many have caught sight of her." It was apparent to the Young Wolf that he would have to be harsh with his uncle; and it appeared that he was not the only one who recognized it.

"Ye will marry one of the Freys," snarled Blackfish, "it's ye that attacked the mill—the foolhardy errand that was— this marriage will be the only contribution you'll make to the war that'll be worth while." And, while Robb felt that the tone and manner in which Brynden Tully spoke to his nephew was more than a little gruff, Robb could not disagree with the words.

"I do not see another option, do you? I know that this marriage was meant for me, and you will always know that I am truly sorry that you are paying the price for my own foolishness," Robb spoke softly, "but what is in the past must only make us more cautious of future actions. This is our best course of action for the time being. We must accept Frey's conditions."

"I see no way around this," sighed Edmure, defeated, "but I hope that I get a choice of my bride." Robb had to force himself to not roll his eyes and instead remember that he had felt the same way when his mother had told him that he was to marry a Frey.

"Thank you for understanding the importance of accepting Frey's terms, Lord Uncle," Robb said tightly, knowing that he now owed Edmure. Using the paper in front of him, Robb wrote a quick message to Frey promising that he would begin his journey to the Twin Towers the morning after the following day. He turned to one of the servant boys in the room and called out, "you, what's your name?"

"Me, sir?" instead of giving Robb enough time to answer, the boy continued, "I am Will."

"Young Will, run this message to the Freys," Stark commanded with a kind smile on his face. As the boy took the note from him, he whispered, "thank you." Robb put his face in his hand, rubbing his eyes. The stress of the past week was beginning to wear on him, "now that that's all settled, I believe I will go check on some other matters," all the while thinking of Talisa.

"Robb, are you sure this is the only way? Must we go back to the Towers? We will waste so much time," Catelyn always voiced the questions he did not want to answer.

"I see no alternative. Please tell me if you do," the Wolf waited for his mother's response, "Going to be for Frey's forgiveness is the best I can do now," he tried to hide the defeat he felt by being authoritative and matter-of-fact, but the room could still hear the sad notes.

"I agree, lad," his mother's uncle Blackfish chimed in, "yer making the best of a bad situation."

The Starks' party set out for the Twin Towers a day later. It was a small group: Robb, Talisa, Catelyn, Edmure, Grey Wind, and ten or so guardsmen to accompany them. Their travels were slow and Edmure's attitude did not help the morale, he acted as a man might while he walked to the gallows—and therefore held terrible conversation predicting the overall ugliness of the Frey women. Not that Robb could truly blame him. He understood the impending doom of marrying an unknown Frey. Fortunately, Talisa, Catelyn, and the other men were able to keep the mood relatively light with idle conversation.

When the group could see the Frey towers on the horizon, they took a small break from riding to let the horses take in some water—but the party found the small reststop occupied. A woman lay on a horse blanket spread on the sun-dappled ground, while the horse grazed on a nearby patch of grass. At first, she seemed not to notice that a large party was so near to her. But then she turned around and smiled, calling out to them.

"I am deeply sorry, I got caught up in my book. Hello, fellow travelers!" Robb could see that she made almost imperceptible movements with her hands as she stood; grabbing what Robb could only assume was a knife or some other weapon. While he noticed what her hands were doing, he could not but help and take in the rest of her. She was clearly beautiful, even from his distance, with dark blonde hair, ruddy cheeks, and a feminine figure.

"Hello!" Robb called back, "we were just stopping to freshen the horses. I'm Robb, this here is my wife, Talisa, my mother, Catelyn, my uncle, Edmure, and a handful of guardsmen," he pointed to each as he named them, finishing with a gesture toward his men. Robb didn't think that this girl was a threat, but he also could not be sure. He noticed that his men had come to the same conclusion, as they moved to align themselves.

"Ah! The Young Wolf and his Lady. I've heard much howling concerning you two. Not to mention the fun of meeting the famous Catelyn Stark and Edmure Tully, I have heard that the great Lord Tully has passed. My deepest condolences for your loss," her tone suggested sympathy and sarcasm. She, then, made a slight, mocking curtsy to the group and continued speaking, "I am Casidhe Frey, but most just call me Cas," she smiled at the group brightly. Edmure began to cough slightly.

"You are," Edmure started but could not finish because of his choking. He began again, "you are a Frey?"

"If by name only, yes I am a daughter of the mighty Walder Frey, Head of the House of Frey and Lord of the Crossing," her tone left no room for questioning as she was clearly mocking her father, "and if I understand the gossip correctly, you, Edmure Tully, are my future brother-in-law." Robb couldn't help but smile; she had left no room for Lord Tully to question whether she could be a candidate for wife.

"Ah, so, um," Edmure's face dropped at her words, "your father has decided which of your sisters will be my bride?" the poor man looked wretched at the thoughts of getting a different Frey and not being able to pick her.

"I wouldn't know," she said cautiously, "but I assume he has. Last I was told, he wanted to marry off Roslin," everyone could see Tully's reactions to all of this, "she's a wonderful girl and I am sure she will make a fantastic wife." Her face was closed off, she was obviously hatching some sort of plan as she stared at Robb, but he just could not guess what.

"Well," she finally said, as the Stark party stared at the girl, "are you going to let your horses take their rest?"