A humble thank you to my patient readers.
George R. R. Martin owns all respective story elements.
Robb Stark was adjusting his shirt and trousers while he listened to Theon ramble on and on about all the fresh maidens that had arrived with the caravan. He was planning on taking as many as he could to his bed tonight.
The eldest Stark, himself, was doing his best to tune him out, tying his tunic in the front and rearranging the cotton shirt underneath. His hands were busy, but his mind was elsewhere. The encounter with Ariana that morning had left a sensation coursing through his body and mind. A sensation he had not felt..well, since she had left Winterfell for the last time all those years back. At the time, he was just a boy. He did not understand what he had felt, even feared it. He was older now, however, and knew very well what it was. Robb was no longer afraid of it, and his seeing her again made him decide to even pursue it. Surely, he had a chance of her reciprocating. He knew she had felt it too.
Robb snapped out of it when he felt a jab in his ribs and saw Theon waving his hand in front of his face.
"Were you not listening to what I was saying? I was talking about the maid I saw earlier. You know? The one with the brown hair and large ti-"
"Yes, I heard you Theon," Robb snapped, cutting him off. He did not appreciate being interrupted while in deep thought.
Theon knowingly smiled, looking smug. "Oh, I see. Did we just have our minds on a certain raven-haired princess just now?"
"How can I not?" Robb threw his hands up in exasperation. "How can you not? It is, after all, in your nature to notice beautiful young ladies."
Theon simply chuckled. "Believe me, I have. But there is no sense in wasting time lusting after someone you will never have. No man will be able to touch her without her father's consent. I also hear she is soon to be betrothed to some lucky bastard that remains ever nameless."
Robb's heart sank a bit when Theon said that. He tried not to let it show, but Theon and Jon both noticed. Theon spoke again. "Ah, what did you expect, Robb? She's the princess. Politics. The realm will need a king on the Iron Throne, not a woman. It's how this sort of thing goes."
Robb looked at him once and then away. "I just didn't expect her to look like she does. She has changed."
Theon laughed wickedly. "What? You thought she'd be the same skinny little girl from four years ago. There are stories of her beauty, and for once gossip is true." Theon placed his hand on his chest, feigning a dramatic look. "Me being me, I can tell you when a woman is worth a second look, and I can honestly stand before the two of you and say she is one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen."
Robb and Jon both gaped at him as he finished dressing and walked out of the room. Jon turned to Robb with a knowing look. "You like her?"
Robb responded, "Of course!"
"Then tell me something, brother. How long have you been in love with her?"
He turned and looked at Jon, eyes narrowed with confusion, but saw his half-brother was very serious. Sighing, he answered, "I don't know. I've always had affection for her that I thought was sisterly. But...to see her now and what she has grown to be and then learn of a possible engagement. It's made me realize how wrong I was."
Jon nodded at his statement, satisfied. He then changed the subject as they finished getting ready.
Robb made his way to the feasting hall where the celebration was being held, gingerly clutching a small draw bag in his fist. He met up with Theon and proceeded to nibble at his food, secretly hoping to catch a glimpse of Ariana. Theon simply gave him an amused look.
Robb watched as Sansa joined him at the table, looking exceptionally proud of herself. She smiled at him before conversing with Jeyne and making girly eyes at the prince. Not too long after, he took Arya to bed (thanks to her unnerving ability to aim with food) and returned to the table. Sansa was still recovering from the mortification from the event, and he was still trying to stifle laughter. His appetite waned as the night proceeded, but he still pretended to eat while secretly searching for the princess.
He was about to give up when, for the second time that night, Theon jabbed him in the ribs with his elbow. Robb opened his mouth to shout at him when Theon met his eyes and cleared his throat while trying to hide his pointing. Robb rolled his eyes and followed the direction of his finger, annoyed and not in the mood. Raising his glass to take a drink, his breath caught in his throat, and he nearly projected his mouthful of wine across the table.
There she was. In all her glory, the eldest Baratheon daughter stood at the entryway, looking unsure and a bit uncomfortable. Robb watched as Sansa practically launched herself over all the tables and drunk people to get to her. Taking her hand, Sansa led Ariana to their table and sat her down next to her on the opposite side of where he and Theon sat. Robb would not be able to sneak glances at her without being obvious.
He ignored Theon's laughter, at his expense of course, and sat back in his chair, crossed his arms, and huffed like a child put out.
It wasn't long the princess sat down though. No sooner than she raised the first cup of ale to her lips, her hand was being pulled toward the floor where people were dancing.
Robb watched as she first danced with her father then his own father, and then the men became younger, more agreeable to look at. It was no secret that the king would announce a suitable match for his daughter. And from the looks she was receiving from men all around, Robb deduced the pickings were far from slim.
He pushed his plate in front of him away, resigned to acknowledge that jealousy had just, in angry fact, reared its head.
"Go ask her to dance."
Sansa's sweet voice cut through the loud music. She was looking at her brother fondly but her words held a stern command.
Robb pressed his lips together and nodded. Ariana was currently dancing with Jaime Lannister, and she was smiling and laughing while he twirled her in his arms. Robb felt the sting of jealousy once more but shook it away. No, he would do this with a clear mind.
He pushed away from the table, ignoring Theon's whoops and Sansa's cries when he ruffled her hair.
Luck was on his side as the song Jaime and Ariana were dancing to came to conclusion. With a charming half smile, he approached the couple with as much confidence and swagger as he could muster. When in reality, his heart was in his throat and he had the tickle under his arms when one began the nervous sweats.
Ariana noticed him first. Her smile widened, and she turned to Jaime, who still held her hands.
Jaime's smile waned a bit at the sight of Robb Stark, but Jaime was a clever enough man to not show his disdain for advancing competition. He simply nodded his head to the young lord. With a tilted smile, he looked to Ariana. "I see that our time has come to an end." He kissed her hand and bowed. "My princess."
Robb watched him as he vanished in the crowd. Good riddance. Once he could no longer see him, he then turned back toward Ariana who was looking at him strangely. Oh no. She'd noticed the brief pissing contest between them. But instead of shoving him aside or slapping him or whatever at his audacity, she merely shook her head, smiled, and held out her hand to him.
Be a man, Robb, for gods' sake. He stepped forward then, intertwining their fingers together on one hand, and used his other to guide hers to his shoulder. When he wrapped his arm around her waist, he felt her stiffen. Ariana was looking anywhere but him, and her breathing was shallow and hurried. She was nervous too, thank the gods.
This song was slow, intimate, and northern. It was dominated by flutes and stringed instruments, meant to lull couples into a private world of their own.
Robb glanced around and saw many couples engaging in their own dance. Some were gazing into one another's eyes, some were even kissing. He and Ariana would not be minded.
He leaned in until his lips brushed her ear. "Relax. Be with me."
She nodded, and Robb felt her body physically deflate. Her fingers moved from his shoulder to his chest and then to the back of his neck. He hoped she didn't feel the gooseflesh that erupted under her touch.
He rested his head against hers, careful of her sharp tiara. Eyes closed, he enjoyed the feeling of her pressed against him as they swayed together on the floor. Ariana's chuckle brought him back to reality. He pulled back to look at her, wondering what was funny.
"That was the first time hearing your voice in years," she said. "I have missed it."
Robb smiled and brushed his lips over her forehead. "Likewise."
Truth be told, her voice was not what he had been expecting. He thought it would be sweet and high like those girls one would see tittering about in court. Instead, hers was rich and melodic, strong and commanding...endearing. It was intoxicating, and Robb longed to hear it again.
They stayed that way until the song was over. But before any others could come claim a dance with the princess, Robb tucked her arm into his, leading her off the floor and back to the table. She had not eaten since the evening had started, and he knew she must have been famished. The flush in her face told him he was right.
He sat next to her and poured her a cup of ale. With careful eyes, he guarded her, ready to shoo away anyone (save the king) who would distract her.
"I'm tired," Ariana said quietly. "Would you escort me back to my chambers?"
Without another word, Robb stood, offering his arm to her once again. She accepted, and the couple departed, not offering to bid anyone goodnight. Too tired to care if she was missed, Ariana just wanted to get into warm clothes and her feather bed.
Three guards bearing stags followed the pair down the halls, keeping watch on the young lord and princess and making sure no mischief happened between the two. It would not do well to allow a lady, let alone a princess, stride about with a man that was not her husband or immediate family.
Too soon, they arrived at her chambers. Ariana allowed Robb to kiss her knuckles, blushing as her other hand twisted the doorknob to her room. She stumbled back a bit as she opened the door, effectively killing her confident illusion.
"Goodnight, Lord Stark," she said in a hurry.
"Sweetest dreams, Your Grace."
Ariana's face heated again, but she shut the door on a very smug looking Stark before he could see.
She knew he was handsome, but when he looked at her like that, she thought she would burst into flames.
Gods, if she continued to act so foolish around him, she wished she could catch just fire to save herself anymore embarrassment.
