Guest: Thanks! Here it is! On time this time!

XBolt51: I would say Robb, Ned, and Jon do the same. Robb never sees Theon's betrayal. Eddard never sees Littlefinger's betrayal. Jon obviously doesn't see his coming either. It's a common trope amongst the Starks that they trust too easily and are blind to a lot the betrayal around them.

Ardvark: Yeah, the north would probably be more prosperous, but I frankly won't be getting into that much. Given that she was raised in the north as well; I think she would get along well with Arya better, but would still get along with Sansa as well. She'd be a good middle for both of the Stark daughters. To me at least, being raised by the Starks would change her feelings on seduction. It's a highly dishonorable thing to do, so it would disgust the Starks. Also, I think it would be far harder to seduce Robb, Jon, or Bran because of that. Joffrey is an idiot, who doesn't hold honor very highly, so I think besides Theon; it'd be way more difficult to seduce the Stark household.

Guest: I do know it is only canon in the show. But two things. This is the TV fanfiction site, so that is the main canon I am adhering to here, even if I have read the books. Furthermore, I would guess, given the influence George RR Martin still has had over the storyline that the creators of the show wouldn't directly contradict him on something so major, leading me to believe that it will be canon in ASOIF in the future.

Spectre4hire: Thank You. I'm really glad you enjoy it and really appreciate your extensive feedback; its really helpful for me. More Robb/Margaery is to come in the future, but I am trying to build up her angst about it. Glad to hear I did her emotions alright, for me it's a delicate balance of overdoing it and making it seem realistic, so good to hear I'm doing a solid job so far. I had always meant to have Olenna spending only part of her time in Winterfell and had simply forgotten to mention it in the prologue, but I thought an interaction between Jon and Olenna would be different and new. And I'm glad you're looking forward to more!

Rebfan90: Thanks!

The K1D: Yeah, Jon may be a side character for a while, but I wanted to set up what his role will be in this story, though he is definitely going to pop up every so often.

Hi everyone. Surprisingly I am not late this week. Woo me. I'm glad everyone is enjoying the story and I can hardly believe that I have over 100 followers on the story! Anyways, the home schedule for me school's football home schedule is calming down now, so I will have more chances to write future chapters (I'm through the first 6 now), though I'm still keeping it down to a weekly release schedule until further notice, just to give both you guys and me some consistency with it. Anyways, here's the chapter; you're getting some Robb/Margaery interaction and the Royal family's arrival at Winterfell (incoming angst)! As always reviews are greatly appreciated!

Chapter 2: Margaery Tyrell-The Next Day

When her grandmother had first suggested that Margaery should try wearing dresses more in the southern style, she had thought it might be a good change… get her out of her current emotional slump… She was sorely mistaken. Margaery couldn't help but wonder how women in the south could live their entire lives in such an unruly gown. Whereas northern gowns were comfortable, warm, and practical, the southern ones were uncomfortable, cold, and impractical; suffice to say Margaery was not enjoying herself. Despite not having left the warmth of the keep, Margaery was already shivering and constantly had to fight the urge to scratch wherever the gown was too complexly sown. Her grandmother had assured her that the dress would be more comfortable than what she called "your drab northern rags", but even that was not the case. Admittedly, Margaery looked good… really good. This dress tightly stuck to her body, showing off all the right places, while accentuating her growing hips and bosom.

Even in that thought, Margaery was left unsatisfied, as she could not fight the feeling that she was dressed like a whore. Several servants had given her odd glances and whispered to one another as they walked away; something which Margaery was entirely unused to. No matter what her grandmother said, this was probably the last time she would ever wear a southern style dress; it made her feel so foreign. Besides, Margaery doubted the dress would have any real effect on Robb and did she even want it to? At that thought she quickly shook her head and frowned. Of course she wanted it to. Even denying it was pointless and lying to herself only served to worsen her agony.

Before she could continue pondering, she ran straight into a wall of flesh, snapping her away from her thoughts. "Gods! I'm sorry." She quickly apologized, trying to regain her balance, still unsure whom she had just attacked.

"Come now Margaery. No need for that. I was searching for you anyways." Margaery froze at recognition of the voice; of course it was Robb. He always appeared whenever she was consumed by thoughts of him. Margaery quickly relaxed when she finally registered what he had said; why would he be looking for her? Even the thought of him searching for her brought a blush to her face. Perhaps he had heard word that she was wearing a scandalous dress and wanted to see it for himself?

"Margaery? Are you alright?" He spoke again, concerned by her lack of response. She had been sitting there like a fool, not even trying to say anything! She quickly composed herself and turned around, thinking of a witty response. "Well it seems you have found me Robb Stark." She quipped, prompting a wry smile to spread across his face.

"Indeed I have." Robb responded, his eyes obviously wandering over her body, an unfamiliar expression on his face, perhaps one of approval? Margaery shuddered at the thought and decided to be bold, "How do I look today my Lord?" She quietly asked, dipping into an elegant curtsy.

Robb broke into laughter and again looked over Margaery before a frown crossed his face. "Well… you certainly do not look very Northern." He finally stated. That was certainly not the response Margaery had expected. Trying to cover her disappointment, Margaery continued with the conversation, asking "You said you were looking for me Robb?"

Robb seemed to be unaware of her question and only continued looking at her dress, a glazy look in his eyes. Margaery would pay anything to know what he was thinking, even more for it to be good. "Robb?" she repeated, unsure of her current predicament.

"What? Oh yes. Of course. I meant to ask if you would like to join me for a walk? The weather is lovely today." He finally managed to respond, still seemingly distracted.

"I would love to Robb." Margaery excitedly retorted. Though Margaery often took walks with Robb, it was not often that Robb sought her out for one. It was normally a more spontaneous occurrence. Perhaps, he had something to tell her… or maybe it was the dress. Margaery warmed at the idea and eagerly took Robb's arm. The two began walking side by side together through the halls of Winterfell until he suddenly stuttered out "You do look lovely today Lady Margaery. I failed to answer your previous question very well," a small grin growing on his lips.

Margaery couldn't help but blush at his kind words. "Lady Margaery?" She questioned with a strong hint of sarcasm "Since when have I been Lady Margery to you, Lord Robb?"

"Well since you started dressing like a southern lady, Lady Margaery. I hear ladies in the south hold manners in high regard." He japed.

"Perhaps, but you and I both know that I am no southern flower."

Robb warmly smiled at this and turned back to look ahead. "Aye, that you are not." He said with a distant look in his eye. Margaery frowned at Robb's reaction. Why did he have to be so damned mysterious? Margaery was now even less sure about what Robb would think of her new dress and he had already seen it.

The two continued talking about nothing of any importance until they finally entered the courtyard. Margaery instinctively shivered, her back unused to direct contact with the cold northern wind. Unsurprisingly, Robb immediately noticed and frowned, ready to play the honorable hero that he so often seemed to be for her.

"You're freezing Margaery." He stated, worry evident in his words.

"Nonsense. I think I am used to the cold Robb. I have lived here as long as you." She lied, trying to divert his attention.

"Never in such clothing. Come. We can return to the keep." He decided, pulling her back towards the warmth of Winterfell.

"No!" She shouted, louder than she had meant to. He jumped at her abruptness and concernedly looked into her eyes. Margaery shivered again, though this time not from the cold. She may have loved everything about Robb, but even if she didn't she would be unable to deny that his eyes were intoxicating, an inescapable sea of blue. She managed to respond before he lost herself in the infinite blue of his eyes "I would not have has cut our walk short for my own sake. We will continue on our stroll, Lord Robb." She finished, trying to ease his fears.

He seemed unconvinced until an idea must have crossed his mind, as his expression suddenly changed to one of excitement, and he quickened his pace back through the courtyard. Margaery's own excitement only matched his once she realized where he was taking her, her favorite place in Winterfell, the glass gardens. Most assumed that Margaery only enjoyed the glass gardens for their warmth like that in her lost home. Really, it was the flowers. Rumors held that the glass gardens once only housed plants for food, but that Lord Stark had dedicated half the gardens for flowers in order to give Margaery a piece of her home. Margaery had never had the courage to ask; she would be overwhelmed if Lord Stark had done her such a huge kindness. Yet, if that had been Lord Eddard's intention, then he had definitely succeeded. Thought she had no memory of her ancestral home of High Garden, she still longed for the home she had never really known. Margaery would always be a Stark in her heart and a Tyrell in blood; only in the glass gardens did she truly feel as if she were both at the same time.

Margaery could immediately feel the difference, once she and Robb entered the warmth of the glass gardens. Robb's pace only quickened once they were inside, as he led her deeper and deeper into the massive complex. Margaery had always found even the structure itself truly fascinating; its nature completely alluding her. Though in this instance, Margaery did not have time to linger, as Robb seemed eager about something. "What is the hurry Robb? Can't we enjoy the gardens?" She asked nervously.

"I want to do something first. Close your eyes."

"What? Robb? Why..?"

"Margaery. Trust me."

Margaery silently obeyed the command, still unsure of Robb's intentions. He was gone for only a second until she felt his hand gently push her hair behind her ear. Margaery nearly jumped at the contact, but quickly relaxed, safe in the knowledge that it was only Robb and her. Finally, he spoke, saying "I know this can be a rough time, so I thought I would try to cheer up my winter rose. Open your eyes."

She blushed at his use of her nickname. It was said with such affection and care that she could almost bring herself to hope that he may return her feelings. Robb had often complained of nick-names; he felt his father's "the quiet wolf" was an insulting misnomer and made Lord Eddard seem cold and distant. In that case, Margaery was in complete agreement with Robb; Lord Stark was a compassionate and social man, when he was around those he cared about. But, with her own nick-name, Margaery couldn't disagree more. She loved her nickname. Partially because it encompassed both her blood family and her real family so well, but mostly because Robb had given it to her.

When Margaery finally did open her eyes, she was met by Robb's own tentative stare, his blue eyes truly breathtaking. He then looked down to his own hands, Margery's eyes following his glance, where he was holding a singular blue winter rose. He shyly pushed her hair back again and placed the flower gently behind her ear, whispering "Perfect."

Margaery did not even have time to consider what he had meant by that before he grabbed her hand and began walking with her again.

"I thought I should give you one today with the King arriving and all. Erika Umber nearly held me at knife's point until I gave her one and then acted as if it was mine own idea." He said, chuckling.

Margaery was in such shock that she could not manage to even respond to Robb's words. He had not actually given Erika the flower! It was still something reserved only for her, she realized her dread washing away. She had been truly foolish. Of course Robb wouldn't give another girl a winter rose; they were resigned only for her.

He continued on "It didn't seem right for Erika Umber to have one, when the true winter rose of house Stark didn't."

"Thank you, Robb. Truly. You know how much I love them." She responded, emotion evident in her voice.

"She even stuck one in Greywind's fur! He is a dire-wolf, not some puppy. You have always seemed to understand that."

"What do you mean Robb?" She asked, filled with both hope and nervousness.

"Well. Despite his current size and appearance, Greywind is a direwolf, both noble and dangerous, the sigil of our house." He explained. Margaery's breath caught at the use of 'our', but quickly assumed it to be a slip of the tongue. He continued on, saying "You treat him as such. You don't coddle him like a normal pup. It is nice to see."

"Of course Robb. Anyone could see that Greywind will soon grow more fearsome and large; he may even dwarf you and me." She joked, secretly pleased with herself.

He laughed at her jape. "I would hope not, but few alive south of the wall have ever seen a direwolf, so maybe he shall. I only wish Lady Umber could understand that."

Margaery's happy mood immediately shattered. Why would Robb care how Erika Umber treated Greywind? Was she not returning to Last Hearth within the next days? Overcoming her worry, Margaery managed to articulate the question, asking "What does it matter what Lady Umber thinks, Robb?"

Robb laughed again, "Please Margaery. You are far more intelligent than I and even I can see what Lord Umber is attempting to do."

"Oh" was the only response she could manage, but Robb seemed not to hear her.

"I cannot deny her beauty, but ultimately it is my father's decision. My thoughts matter little when it comes to my marriage. Rather unfair, don't you agree?" He asked, looking longingly into the distance.

"It is the same for all high born children Robb. If we were of the small folk, then we could follow our hearts." Margaery responded, before quickly realizing her mistake. "If you were, I mean… yeah." She quickly stuttered, nervously breaking his grip. What did he mean by that? Did he hope his father would choose her, because she was beautiful? Why else would he care how Erika treated Greywind? He must want her to be his wife. Margaery shuddered at the thought and could feel herself becoming more defensive and distant. Whereas moments ago she had hoped that Robb might love her and that this walk could last forever, she now wanted to be anywhere but in Robb's presence.

"Margaery?" Robb asked, likely noticing her far-away stare.

"We really ought to ready ourselves, my Lord. The king will be arriving shortly." She coldly said.

"Oh. Yeah. Of course." He muttered, looking to the ground with what seemed like despair in his eyes. Yet, she must have imagined that, as it was quickly replaced with a confident grin. "If you will follow me my Lady, I believe we have a king to impress." He joked, again extending his hand towards her.

She hesitated, unsure of the contact, but she eventually relented, taking his hand again. There was something strangely comforting about having her hand in his. Though they were calloused and rough from years of practice in the tiltyards, they were always shockingly warm and far larger than her own. Her hand basically disappeared into his and she felt extremely safe, despite it only being a friendly gesture. They continued walking arm in arm, until they finally reached the main courtyard of Winterfell, where the rest of the Stark family, save Arya was already assembled.

Margaery loosened her grip on Robb's arm as they grew closer to the assembled crowd. She did not want to appear overly comfortable with Robb's touch; it would seem improper. Lady Stark had already made it clear that Margaery would be lying low during the King's stay; she did not need to bring any unwanted attention to the Tyrell of Winterfell. The King still held great contempt for her family, even though he had never fought in the Reach or at Storm's End. Margaery finally left Robb's grasp and found her spot next to Theon, not her ideal companion.

Theon greeted her with the usual sneer and a simple "My Lady." Margaery had never known for sure, but she held the suspicion that Theon resented her for being the ward closest to the Stark family. Though Robb likely spent more time with Theon, everyone knew that Robb and her were far closer. A curt "Theon" was her only response, as she could feel his eyes moving up and down her body, likely undressing her every second. Perhaps, the southern dress was not such a good idea.

"I must say this dress is a welcome change from your usual attire. I'd say I would be willing to even bed you now." He arrogantly spat out. Gods, why couldn't she stand with the Starks, instead of this fool. Instead of encouraging him, Margaery decided to stare onwards; her glance naturally falling upon Robb, who appeared to be in a rather heated exchange with his mother. Finally, Lord Eddard seemed to have the final word and ended the argument, resulting in Robb happily turning around and walking towards her.

"Lady Margaery" He formally greeted her. "There has been a mistake. Come take your spot next to me."

"What? Robb? I was told by your mother to stand behind the family." She questioned, forgetting her formalities, not that Robb would care; he never did.

"Nonsense. You are just as much a part of Winterfell as I." He stated, trying to alleviate her fears. She knew he couldn't possibly mean it, but the sentiment was nice. She nervously took his hand, for what felt like the dozenth time that day, and was escorted to the front row with the Stark family. Sansa greeted her with a small smile and shifted to the left without complaint. Only Lady Stark seemed perturbed by her presence, as she gave Margaery a cold glare, her lips pursed.

The Stark family stood in silence, awaiting the arrival of the King, until little Arya ran up in a war helmet. Though she could be quite a hassle, Margaery could not help but appreciate Arya's rebellious, youthful vigor. Margaery had once been just as stubborn, often trying to spend all her time with the boys, well Robb mostly, but she had eventually outgrown it and created a balance of being a lady and a rebel. That was something Margaery was unsure Arya would ever do, but after the little girl exchanged some words with her father, she seemed to calm and took her place next to little Bran.

Margaery was startled from her thoughts by the sudden sound of horses thundering through the gate. First in were a tall blonde man and a similar looking blonde youth, both of whom arrogantly surveyed the courtyard around them. This must be the Kingslayer and his nephew 'Prince' Joffrey. Margaery had heard they were both royal pricks and their judging gaze only seemed to confirm the idea. But where was the King? Margaery began shaking at the thought of seeing Robert Baratheon. She couldn't help but be terrified by the idea of meeting him. She only had to think of the Targeryens or the Greyjoys to know what Robert Baratheon did to the families he hated and hers was certainly one of them. Her hands, held politely behind her back, were nearly uncontrollably shaking now; her apprehension growing more and more.

"Margaery." Margery nearly jumped at the voice, Robb's voice. She looked to her right and saw Robb's sympathetic stare. "Everything is okay. I am here." He assured her, even going as far as gently squeezing her hand, still behind her back, before quickly letting go and returning to his previous position. They still had to maintain their composure before the King and although it was such a small gesture, she immediately calmed, her hands ceasing their shaking.

Finally, a massive man with an unruly beard left the center carriage and began stomping towards the Starks. Margaery had to stifle a gasp. This was Robert Baratheon? He seemed like a fat drunkard, not the powerful hero she had heard so much about. Behind him, walked the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. At least Cersei Baratheon lived up to the tales; her beauty was truly astounding. Margaery could also catch the sight of two children peeking from behind Lady Cersei's dress, almost as if they were scared to see the northern brutes stood before them. Margaery almost laughed at the thought. If she had lived in High Garden or the south for her entire life, she likely would have held similar sentiments.

The king finally stood before Lord Stark and looked him up and down, Lord Stark doing the same.

"You've grown fat." The King barked out, almost as if hiding a belch. This time Margaery could not contain her gasp, nor could many others. Surely the King must have known the irony in his statement. Lord Stark seemed to be the only man, who did not seem amused, as he simply looked down towards the King's gut and pointed. Thankfully, both men broke into laughter and embraced, greatly easing the tension in the courtyard.

The king then moved on and greeted both Lady Catelyn and Robb, before standing in front of her. His eyes seemed to immediately catch on Margaery, a crazed expression crossing his face. Robert Baratheon stared blankly at her for what felt like an eternity, before Margaery realized she had completely forgotten her courtesies. She hurriedly bent down in a curtsy, greeting him with a simple "Your Grace."

He still stared at her, not at her eyes, but seemingly at the flower in her hair. He whispered something, which Margaery could not make out. After another moment, Robb interceded, likely in an attempt to save her, formally introducing her by saying "Lady Margaery of House Tyrell, your grace. Ward of Winterfell." Margaery would have to thank Robb later, as the King seemed to wake from his daze and moved down the line of Starks.

Margaery did not even have the chance to contemplate the King's odd behavior before the Queen stood before her, an arrogant look matching that of her twin's and son's on her face. Margaery again dipped into a low curtsy, muttering another "Your Grace," likely more curtly than she should have. The queen either failed to notice or did not care, as she began looking over Margaery, as if judging her, before responding in turn. "You must be Lady Margaery of House Tyrell. I see tales of your beauty have not been unfounded."

Tales of her beauty? Margaery knew of no such tales. Likely, the queen was only attempting to flatter her. "Thank you, your grace. I am unsurprised to be able to say the same to you." She responded sarcastically. Queen Cersei was not the only Lady, who knew how to use kind words to her own benefit. Lady Cersei merely nodded her thanks and walked on to Sansa, who was much more excited by her presence.

Next came Joffrey, who looked over Margaery's body much like his mother had, likely for very different reasons. Margaery went through the motions of a formal greeting, but was growing increasingly distracted by the Princess Myrcella, who was greeting Lady Catelyn, but obviously had her thoughts elsewhere. The girl could not take her eyes off Robb. She practically dismissed Lady Stark and hurried towards Robb, who was completely unawares. He bowed his head slightly and greeted her "Princess Myrcella."

"Lord Stark" she responded shyly.

"You look radiant Princess. I am honored to meet you." Robb returned, formally.

The princess's face turned a deep red at his words. "It is radiant… I mean, You look radiant as well Lord Stark… wait. Apologies, my Lord I am making a fool of myself." She stammered out, clearly embarrassed.

"Nonsense. You could never look a fool to me Princess." Robb responded with his kind smile, bringing her hand up to his lips and placing a gentle kiss upon them.

Princess Myrcella practically swooned at his actions. "You are too kind to me my Lord." She said, not believing his words.

"Please princess. For you, it is only Robb." He kindly answered. Margaery nearly blanched in her mouth at Robb's words. She could not tell if Robb was either being kind to the poor young girl or trying to net himself a princess. Margaery knew it was likely only the first one, but telling the princess to use his first name seemed like an unnecessary gesture, if he was simply attempting to be nice.

The princess meanwhile, only blushed an even deeper red and looked down to her feet. She didn't appear to realize that she had been standing before Robb for a rather long time and was holding up the royal procession. Robb noticed thankfully and motioned for her to move along, which she again failed to notice.

"My Lady. It looks like we must continue our conversation later. You must meet the rest of my family."

The princess began looking all around and noticed the stares from the other people in the courtyard. She panicked, but still moved nowhere, until she regained her composure and managed to respond "I would love to my Lord," placing great influence on the love. Margaery snorted. With how young she is, the princess probably already did love him. She seemed to be looking at him as though she did.

Margaery could hardly blame the young girl. Robb looked every bit the part of a handsome knight. Though northerners could not be knighted, Margaery had no doubt that Robb both would be a wonderful knight and look as noble and gallant as any. Robb's very gaze could make women swoon ; his blue eyes both beautiful and piercing. Then, Robb had to go and likely grow the idea in the Princess' head by being incredibly kind and understanding, the bastard. Margaery nearly laughed aloud at her own stupid jealousy. She was growing angry at Robb for simply being nice; he likely had no idea what effect he was having on the girl. The princess was 6 years his juniors and he likely only saw her as a sweet little girl. Obviously, it was not a shared sentiment, but that was not any fault of Robb's.

At least Robb had not gone and given her a winter rose. If he had done that, Margaery would have been beyond irate. She was unsure of if she would have even been able to contain her emotions in front of the royal family. It would not have reflected well on her if she had murdered the heir to Winterfell in their presence. Perhaps, if she had simply castrated him they would not have cared. She may have even been able to get a laugh from the queen. That would have been a grand accomplishment, if the stories of her aloofness were true.

For Robb's sake she was glad it had not come to that. She was still his winter rose. Margaery only wished this damned royal procession could move on, so that she could get him away from Myrcella Baratheon and show him why she had earned the affectionate nickname. The feast just needed to be over with already; she wanted to simply fall asleep and wake up after this visit.