Author's Note: These are connecting drabbles and not plotted chapters so there will be things missing and jumps in time.


Robb sighed with frustration as he turned down yet another lit walk searching for his Aunt Lysa. It seemed ridiculous to him that she would prove to be more difficult to chaperone than Sansa. He had not suspected anything when she had changed their plans and demand that he escort her to Vauxhall Gardens. He had gone uncomplainingly despite the hope that he would see Lady Margaery at the Stokeworth ball.

This had been his first time at the celebrated gardens and he had enjoyed the scull ride across the river, where they had entered via the water gate. He thought about how much Arya, Rickon and Bran would have been enchanted by the gardens laid out as they were in colonnades and groves and lit by thousands of lights. How much they would have enjoyed the supper with the wafer thin slices of ham that the garden was famous for and the firework display afterwards. Robb would have enjoyed that too, but that had been when Aunt Lysa had disappeared.

One moment she had been standing next to him, seemingly enjoying the display and the next she was gone.

Now Robb was combing the endless walks trying to discover just where his aunt had gotten to. Thoughts of Sir Petyr Baelish filled his mind. Lord Snow had been quick to tell him about the scoundel and his improper attentions to Sansa. It seemed as if the rogue had been out of their lives for good until he had called upon the Arryn household last week, a slick smile and posy of flowers for Aunt Lysa in his hand. He had spared Sansa no attention beyond the polite and had been affable to Robb. Aunt Lysa had refused to listen to any of the detrimental things Robb had said about him afterwards.

Robb turned onto yet another walk, one that was remarkably ill-lit. Probably to encourage lovers, he thought. He stopped as the sound of a commotion came from up ahead and was about to turn around and give whatever lovers he had stumble upon their privacy when he heard, "No! Stop it, Joff!"

The sound of panic in the lady's voice was very real and he strode forward.

There in the dim light, he made out the pale silhouette of a lady. From the style of her gown, she was no demi-rep but a lady of quality, and was clearly struggling against the improper advances of a rake.

Putting his hand forcibly on the scoundel's shoulder, Robb pulled him away from the lady and hesitated for a brief second as he gazed on the dishevelled form of Lady Margaery. As he struggled to put his thoughts in order, the cad who had been restraining her landed a right hook on the side of Robb's head. Turning, Robb faced his attacker and knocked him down with a well-placed upper cut. As the other man fell, Robb recognised him as the Duke of Kingsland and his temper rose, not only for the harm he had also caused his sister but also for the rude manner in which he had been handling Lady Margery. He stepped forward, his fists still clenched until Lady Margaery grabbed onto his arm.

"Oh, no! Please, don't, Lord Stark."

His anger subsided and he became aware of his surroundings. "My apologies, Lady Margaery. I should not have resorted to fisticuffs in your presence."

She raised her eyes to his. "I am glad you were here to do so."

He shot a glance at the unconscious man. "Is he your escort for the evening?"

"No, I am here with my brothers, but he offered to show me some more of the gardens," she said before biting her lip and adding, "He has never been discourteous before."

"I should hope not!"

"I would not want you to think that I came willingly to such a walk either, Lord Stark." She said hesitatingly.

Robb looked down and saw an earnest expression on her face. It was a change from the playful teasing look she usually wore. Not that he had seen that lately, as since that night they had first met, she had avoided him. He had wondered what had made her seek him out in the first place if she was going to make excuses as to why she could not dance with him since.

"Let me return you to your brothers, my lady," he said.

They walked up the dimly lit walk back to the main grove in silence, however before they returned to the masses, Robb stopped and turned to face her. "Before we return to your family, my lady, you are positive Lord Baratheon has never treated you in that manner before? I would not judge you harshly, not after how he treated my sister."

"No," she said. "I would have spoken out to either Loras or Garlan, I promise you, Lord Stark."

Relief rushed through Robb. He did not wish to think that Lady Margaery had also been a victim to such a cad. He drew a deep breath before asking the question that had been on his lips for the past sennight. "Why have you not spoken to me since that night on the balcony?"

Her eyes briefly met his before she looked away. "I am not sure what you mean," she said lightly.

"Please, Lady Margaery, do not play games with me. You sought my acquaintance only to then ignore me at every social function we have met since."

"I did not think it would matter," she said in that same horribly forced light tone.

"So, if I were to tell you that I was leaving Town to return to Winterfell in two days, it would mean nothing to you?" Her eyes flew back to his, a startled expression in them, and he smiled. "I thought not."

She tossed her head. "I am not sure what you mean."

"Don't! Don't do that, Lady Margaery. I would like to know you more and I think you feel the same."

Her playful smile peeped out. "Are you always this persistent, Lord Stark?"

"I am when it is something I want."

Her eyebrows rose. "And I am something you want?"

"Further acquaintance with you is something I would like."

"If you return me to my brothers, it might be possible to arrange that."

"No more avoidance?"

"I'll keep a waltz at the Marbrand ball free."

"The supper dance," Robb pushed.

"I knew you were bold," she said with a laugh, before nodding her head in agreement.