When the raven came summoning her to Winterfell, Dacey told her mother she had no intention of going. She knew what the king wanted.

"He is your king," Maege replied simply. "No matter how you feel for him, he is your king and you will go or you will shame our house. You will go or I will…encourage you to travel in a manner that you will not enjoy."

Dacey raised an eyebrow before glaring and grunting under her breath. Alysane used to tease her that the only person more stubborn than her was her mother. Even now she barely glanced at Dacey because she knew that no matter how loath she was to see him, she would go because the king had commanded her to and she was a Mormont, loyal to the core.

Rising, she escaped the room for the godswood. She had fought by his side all through the War of Five Kings and helped save him during the Red Wedding, then protected him once more in the war to save the Wall. She protected his back even when she wanted to stab him herself. He was the only man in Westeros that she wanted in equal measure to kiss or kill. And now after all these years he had the nerve to summon her to him like she was a child. She would go but she would make it clear that he was not to summon her again unless it was as the King in the North, not as her former lover, her former friend.

x-X-x

Robb watched her ride into the yard, hair loose and streaming behind her, and once again his desire for her came rushing back. He barely noticed the rest of her party. Truly, he had not thought she'd come, despite his summons and suspected Lady Mormont had more to do with her presence than he did.

While ruling had aged him so he had a few more white hairs and wrinkles than a man of six and twenty should have, Robb thought she looked exactly the same, despite her being older than he was.

Robb felt eyes on him and turned to find Jeyne watching him with a frown, their youngest daughter Cat on her hip and a heavy cloak wrapped around her. His sweet wife barely tolerated the northern weather, hated the snow, and was miserable during the long winter, often times crying for her home in the south. All of the things Robb loved about his lands, she despised. She tried to hide her displeasure for his sake but her clear dislike about the north had won her no friends among his bannermen.

"Jon is in your study waiting for you with your steward." She spoke softly, as always.

Robb sighed and turned away. He hated himself for his thoughts. His wife had given up her home and family to come here, had tried to make him happy, and had given him three daughters who he adored. She loved him and he wished he still felt the same. But if his feelings had once been love, they were now only fondness.

Jeyne was comfortable and safe, placid and calming. She nurtured those around her, healed the hurts they suffered, and generally made things easier for them, easier for Robb. She was a loyal wife, a wonderful mother. But there was no anger in her, no passion, and no fire.

After years of war, Robb should want the peace his wife gave him but try as he might, he still wanted the thrill of the fight in his blood. The wolf in him wanted the hunt more than the capture. Dacey had never been so tame or timid as his wife. When she found out about his marriage and that it cost him the alliance with the Freys, she forgot herself and became so angry, she had given him a black eye. Their screaming match ended up with them tearing at each other's clothes and fucking on his desk. After, as Robb attempted to ignore the guilt that plagued him immediately, Dacey rose, dressed and walked out without a word. She didn't speak to him again until they danced at the Edmure's wedding. Then she was the one who pulled him away from his mother's body and out of the Twins with three arrows in his body and his mother's blood staining his hands. She told him that he had to live for Jeyne and for the north.

"I wish it had been you with me at the Crag. It should always be you," he'd whispered before blackness took him.

When he woke up days later with Dacey's name on his lips, it was his wife that held vigil by his bedside. She looked at him guiltily and said, "No, husband, Lady Dacey is not here. She has ridden to the Twins with the others."

He attempted to sit up but the pain was so great that darkness threatened to drown him once again so he remained lying down. Jeyne took his hand and told him what had happened while he slept. She had pleaded with him for forgiveness for her mother's role in everything. To calm her sobbing, he assured her that he forgave her. But inside Robb felt dead. It took many weeks to heal and by then, his remaining forces had liberated Edmure, the Greatjon, and the other captives from the wedding. Other than Roslin, the Freys were put to the sword with Dacey taking Walder Frey's head off herself.

While the tales came back to Robb and many told of her bloodthirsty revenge, Dacey herself did not come back to him; instead she fled to the north, disappearing for months. Some thought she was chasing after Theon Greyjoy, others claimed it was Roose Bolton she sought. In the end, she never said where she'd gone just reappearing when Robb was ready to march north and clear out the remaining ironborn.

Despite how many times they both swore it would never happen again, Robb would end up in her tent every night she did not come to his. He could not sleep after a battle without her by his side. He had lost his family and his direwolf. Dacey was the only one that held the ghosts at bay, the only one who could sooth him enough to sleep through the night without the nightmare of the Twins waking him up, screaming.

At first, Jeyne had attempted to comfort him over the loss of his mother, Greywind and his men but she hadn't been there, didn't understand how horrific it was. She hadn't had to crawl over the bodies and through the blood of his friends to escape with his life. Between them was guilt and obligation and slowly it began to erode at the core of everything. Once she was with child, he sent her to Greywater Watch for her protection.

By day, he was the King in the North, no longer a boy and hell-bent on destroying his adversaries. But at night, with Dacey, he was able to just be Robb Stark. They didn't need to fill the silence with meaningless words. He spent more time mapping every inch of her skin, every curve of her body, while she traced his scars with her lips, her warm breath a sweet caress on his body or making passionate love wherever they landed after their managed to escape their clothing.

After Jeyne returned to him when he reclaimed Winterfell, she became pregnant with his second daughter. And Dacey left for Bear Island without saying goodbye. Robb threw himself into repairing his childhood home and preparing for the winter. When Jon's men betrayed him, Robb had led men north to retrieve his brother, taking him to Last Hearth to be nursed back to health. Despite Jon's protests, Robb insisted on making arranging for Jon's release from the Watch. When Jon had fully recovered, he left to find their sister, Sansa, the only family member that remained to them but not with them.

Now Robb had everything he'd ever wished for. Sansa ran his household, preferring to remain at Winterfell instead of marrying again. Jon had returned as well. He had gone with Robb to battle White Walkers for the Wall. Dacey, as always, was there when Robb needed her. But to Robb's distress, she kept her distance from him, instead developing a strong friendship with Jon. Some nights they would still end up in his bed, after Robb had contrived a reason for her to be in his tent. But despite the fire that always was between them, Dacey would no longer spend the night in his arms, slipping from the bed soon after their love making without even a whispered excuse. Then at the end of the battles, she left again, without a word.

Sansa was the one to pressure Jon into taking a wife, soon after Robb had legitimized him. Jon put her off for many months but finally relented. It wasn't as if anyone could resist Sansa. He came to Robb and asked him his advice for winning Dacey's affection and hand in marriage. Robb had been so furious, he'd sent Jon away to find out if the rumors that Rickon was actually alive and in Skagos were true. Jon had returned with their little brother in tow and Robb felt like a monster for blaming Jon of all people.

As much as Robb loved Jon, he had a hard time accepting the fact his brother would marry Dacey, if she'd have him. Robb could prevent it. Part of him wanted her to refuse because she still loved Robb but he knew how selfish that was. He was the king; he could command his brother to marry another. But that meant admitting to himself that he still lived for the hope that someday, somehow, Dacey would be his and his alone.

x-X-x

It was the third night that Robb found himself knocking on her chamber's door. And as always, neither could resist the lure of the other. Dacey stubbornly said he should leave even as she tugged his tunic over his head. She continued to murmur denial as his lips slid along her jaw, as his fingers fumbled with the laces of her gown.

"We shouldn't," she whispered, her hand curling around the back of his neck. "Your queen is…"

"She is not the one I want," Robb protested. "It's always been you, Dacey. I cannot fight this anymore. Even if it's only one last time, I need you tonight."

Dacey's consent was murmured into his neck as she allowed him to pick her up, carrying her to the bed. It felt so right, so meant to be. With her, he felt whole again. And afterwards, they lay in each other's arms, fingers tracing old wounds contently.

"Jon will be asking for your hand soon," he muttered, his eyes half closed.

"You summoned me here…to marry your brother?" Dacey said incredulously. The anger flashed in her eyes and her mouth tightened. "Perhaps I have already found someone I wish to marry. Or perhaps I do not wish to marry at all. Perhaps I don't trust anyone with my heart again," she demanded.

"Jon is a good man. He'll make a good husband," Robb answered simply. "He'll take care of you and make you happy…"

"Happy?" she gave a bitter laugh. "I was happy during the war when I'd protect you in battle each day and comfort you in the night. Until you married your queen…"

"It was the honorable thing to do," Robb protested weakly.

Sitting up, she slid off the bed and began to dress. "I'm not one of your bannermen. I know your honor, Your Grace. But your honor didn't keep your bed warm. I did. Your honor didn't drag you from the Twins or avenge the Frey's treachery, I did." To his surprise, she turned away and said the words he least wanted to hear. "I'll marry Jon: because he chose me over every other woman. He's honest with himself about his desire and affections for me. And one day our friendship will likely grow into more." Turning back to Robb, he saw a look of stubborn resolution in her eyes. "I would have stayed by your side, Robb Stark, if only you had asked me. I did not care about your vows to the queen. If only you had asked...but you let me go."

She leaned down and kissed him. The taste of her filled him with renewed desire, his stomach knotted and he reached up to grasp her arms and pulled her closer. She whispered softly, "You let me go. And now, for you my king, I am gone forever."

As she left the room, Robb felt his heart freeze. He had lost the one person who was able to fill him with fire and kept him from feeling as if he was carved from ice.

Honor was a cold bedfellow.

A/N: Written for the Your Cheating Heart ficathon on LJ prompt: Robb/Dacey - ASOIAF - Married or not, old habits are hard to break.

Unbeta'ed so all mistakes are mine!