A/N: Hey guys, new chapter for you! The next one is going to be an interlude from the Capitol, and be a lot shorter than usual. Because of this I will post it up mid-week, and then post the wedding chapter as usual at the weekend so you won't be waiting too long for it! Hope that's agreeable!

unnamed visitor: Thank you so much, glad you enjoyed it. I agree that being a wife and mother will suit her, but I'm not sure that she is quite as certain in her own mind. After all, she didn't have a fantastic role-model. While I think she wants children very much, I also think when the time comes the idea will be quite frightening for a time. There were definitely some sparks flying between her and Robb, but yes, they will have to wait until the wedding day. The day itself is rather imminent, as you can tell from this chapter. Hope you enjoy the new update.

Ladyfinwe: Aaah, thank you so much, hope you enjoy the new chapter!

Guest: Thanks so much, here's the next one, hope you like it!

Reader: The Myrcella/Grey Wind meeting is coming right up! I think Grey Wind's acceptance would mean a great deal to Robb, even if he wouldn't admit such a thing out loud. I think it would help galvanize his own realisation that Myrcella is a good person. Thank you very much, hope you enjoy the chapter.

Boramir: Thank you! Yes, things are certainly looking up for the two of them. I understand your concern about Arya, no they didn't get Nymeria back I'm afraid. Arya is going to retreat in on herself and remain resentful for a while yet, but I do have plans to bring her around eventually. She is allowed to fight and train in the tiltyard, it's just a compromise for their mother's sake that she doesn't arm herself in the keep.

Guest: Thanks very much, the wedding is fast approaching. I'm glad you think it's realistic, and I hope you like the new chapter.

Right-ho folks, onwards!

:)

IX: One Final Day

Myrcella

"…as tempting as you are, I will resist until we are joined under the heart tree. I cannot give you any more reasons to name me a savage." Myrcella woke up with a lazy smile and Robb's words still resounding in her head. She bit down on her lip, knowing that it was probably very wrong of her to feel so pleased with herself that Robb found her tempting. It was probably even more wrong of her to wish that he had ignored propriety and kissed her. No man had ever kissed her before, not on the lips at any rate. She had been kissed on the hand more times than she could even think of putting a number to. She had even had kisses placed on her cheeks by family members. Her lips though…No man had ever come close. Not until Robb. Without thinking she ran her fingertips over her bottom lip, remembering how feeling him do the same the night before had made them tingle.

She sighed, kicking the furs away from her and swinging her legs over the side of the bed. As much as she wanted to, she knew she could not lay in her bed all morning thinking about Robb and what he may or may not feel for her. Her own feelings were all jumbled and muddled, what she was feeling in her heart was clashing awfully with the warnings from her mother. "If he thinks you care for him then he has power over you, more power than he will gain from visiting your bed night after night." Myrcella shuddered as she made her way to the dresser, her mother's words now drowning out Robb's. Surely she couldn't be right. She was just preparing Myrcella for the worst, for what she assumed Robb would be and how he would feel about taking a Lannister bride. Myrcella knew better now though, didn't she? She was actually here spending time with him, getting to know him and letting him know her.

He will know all of me come tomorrow night. She shuddered again, but she wasn't entirely sure whether it was with fear or not. Yes, she certainly felt some level of apprehension when she thought of her wedding night, but at the same time she could not help but think about how Robb's skin felt when he held her hand. Or how he had made her lips tingle with just a mere whisper of his touch. Was this what he wanted? For her to feel this way? To lull her into a false sense of security and affection only to crush all of her tentative hopes as soon as he took her as his wife? She shook her head. No. No, Robb would not do that. Robb was not like that. She was letting her mother's words get to her. Her mother didn't know the first thing about Robb. Myrcella could not claim to know everything, but she knew enough to know that her mother was wrong. She had to be. Myrcella did not even want to consider the alternative. Not now.

A knock came at the door just as she began to fasten the ties of her dress, and she worked her fingers faster in response. "Just a moment!" she called out, finishing the ties before glancing quickly into the mirror. Her hair was a bit of a tangled mess but there was not much she could do about it now, it would be rude to keep her guest waiting any longer. She hurried to the door and pulled it open, starting slightly on seeing Robb on the other side.

"Breakfast," he smiled, holding out a plate laden with food to her. Her stomach snarled in response and she smiled apologetically at him. "It seems I have come just in time," he said, skirting around her and crossing to lay the plate down atop her table. "You best eat before it gets cold," he advised her, "would you object to company?"

"Ordinarily, no," she said, biting down on her lip gently as she thought of what whispering maids might say if they caught them leaving her chamber together.

"We can leave the door open, if it would make you more comfortable?" Robb suggested with a raised brow, and she nodded sheepishly before crossing to take a seat. He moved to her side table and set about pouring them both a glass of wine as Myrcella started on her breakfast. Once he was out of sight she felt she could explain it better to him.

"You don't make me feel uncomfortable," she assured him, "you never have, not once we agreed upon our fresh start anyway. It's just others, they talk, and I think enough whispers are spoken about me without 'whore' being added to the list."

"Anyone who names you 'whore', or anything else for that matter, will find themselves in stocks," Robb practically growled, and a glass of wine was set down at the side of her plate in the next moment.

"You will not put them all in stocks, you would not have enough," she told him wryly, expecting him to laugh. He didn't. He just gazed at her so intently that she forgot all about being hungry.

"I will make enough," he told her seriously, and as ridiculous as his statement was, she could not help but believe him.

"You will make yourself unpopular," she told him just as seriously.

"I don't care," he returned, and she smiled slightly.

"You ought to," she sighed, turning her attention to the wine he had poured her. "You will only make it worse if you become a tyrant after taking me as your wife," she said, "it isn't you they'll blame. It will be me."

"Eat your breakfast," he said softly, "you are worrying too much about this. The people cannot resist a wedding, and they will be able to resist your beauty and your goodness even less. You won me over, Myrcella, I have no doubt that you can win them over as well." Myrcella merely smiled faintly before obediently continuing on with her breakfast. Truthfully, she did not think it would quite as easy as Robb was making it out to be. Either he was underestimating how difficult life might become for him with her as his queen. Or, more likely, he was trying to soothe her own worries by being wildly unrealistic. She decided to let it go either way, for now at least. Likely the issue would crop up again in the near future, but Myrcella hoped that she would at least be allowed to enjoy her wedding day first.

Never had she thought she would look forward to the day. Be happy and excited about exchanging vows with the man her grandfather had bargained her to all those years ago. She had expected a day of false smiles and false courtesies. Now she knew that her smiles would be genuine, and she had secret hopes that Robb's would be to. She swallowed down another mouthful of breakfast before contemplating him, seeing an amused smile twitching at one corner of his mouth. "Go on," he raised a brow expectantly at her. "I can tell that you're dying to ask me something, come on, out with it," he implored her, and she couldn't help but smile.

"Are you looking forward to tomorrow?" she asked him after taking a steadying breath.

"I am," he responded, "I didn't think I ever would, but I am. I promise you. Now eat up, we are supposed to be meeting Grey Wind in the gardens and he is a rather impatient beast."

They ambled easily through the gardens, Robb calling out for his wolf every moment or so. He didn't appear, and Myrcella tried to push away the uneasy feeling the animal was watching them. Watching her, more specifically. She tightened her grip on Robb's arm slightly as he called out for Grey Wind once more. This time there was a rustling in the wilder undergrowth which lined the southern wall of the gardens. Slowly the direwolf appeared, his yellow eyes the most prominent feature of his great, hulking form. By the Gods. Myrcella had seen him before at a distance, but this was something else entirely. She swallowed hard, but it was a difficult motion as her mouth had gone suddenly dry. Grey Wind came closer, padding along the grass in an almost lazy fashion, coming to a halt a mere foot from Robb and dropping down onto his haunches at his master's side. Robb moved his free hand to rest on the wolf's head, and Grey Wind's eyes turned to Myrcella. It seemed ridiculous to think it, but she had honestly never seen an animal look so smug and content.

"Grey Wind, this is Myrcella," Robb introduced, though it did not sound ridiculous. Especially when the wolf looked up at Robb before moving his eyes back to Myrcella and blinking slowly at her.

"Hello, Grey Wind," she said tentatively, flickering her eyes to Robb and seeing him incline his head slightly.

"Say hello, then," Robb moved his hand to pat Grey Wind's shoulder encouragingly, eliciting a whine from the wolf. The direwolf rose again, with surprising grace for one so big, and moved towards Myrcella. He sniffed around the hem of her skirts before circling her, bumping Robb out of the way as he did so. Myrcella was now left grasping air as Robb's arm was pushed out of her grip. For a second she was panicked, but the wolf stopped his circling and came to a halt in front of her. Again, he settled down on his haunches, raising his head almost as though he wanted to meet her eyes.

Myrcella took a breath and outstretched her hand slowly. Grey Wind whined, and she hoped that it was not in warning. She imagined Robb would warn her if he thought his wolf were about to savagely attack her, and so she kept on. An inch away the wolf seemed to lose patience, moving his head forwards so it butted against her hand. Another whine escaped him and she laughed shakily, stroking him properly now and smiling widely when he nuzzled his head against her hand. "You have a friend for life now," Robb said in an amused tone, and Myrcella turned her head to him.

"I do hope so," she said, hoping that he would understand the double meaning. His smile seemed to brighten his eyes a little more in response, and so she imagined that he may well have done. She had often thought Robb to be very astute, just like his mother in that regard.

"Now, will you allow us to continue our walk?" Robb directed towards his wolf, stepping closer to Myrcella again and placing a hand on the small of her back. She almost jumped at the contact, but she was glad that she hadn't. Likely Robb would imagine she didn't want his touch, when in reality she was glad of the pressure. It was all she could do not to lean back against him, already imagining him wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her against his chest. She let her breath out slowly, seeing Grey Wind staring at her intently, almost as though he knew exactly what she had just imagined in her head. "Would you join us, Grey Wind, or do you have more pressing engagements in the wolfswood?" Robb asked, and Myrcella couldn't help but laugh slightly as Grey Wind cocked his head to one side as though he were considering Robb's words. He yapped twice after a moment, rising to his feet again and waiting in an expectant manner.

"I think he's joining us," Robb said, moving his hand from her back to offer his arm again. Myrcella took it gladly and they set off in step, Grey Wind trotting at her side for a little while before he raced on ahead to sniff at anything and everything that caught his fancy.

"Do you think he understands everything you say?" Myrcella asked curiously as they ambled after his inquisitive wolf.

"I don't know if he understands every word," Robb said, "it is more like he can read my mind than anything else. There is some kind of connection between us, I cannot deny that. It was on the battlefield when I noticed it the most, and where it came in most useful. Whenever someone got the best of me in a fight he would appear, the odds would always turn in my favour then."

"I cannot imagine him in battle," Myrcella said honestly, her hand gripping a little tighter on Robb's forearm as she said it.

"He is a different beast," Robb replied, and she nodded her agreement. Watching Grey Wind was like watching an overgrown pup milling about the place.

"Did he help you with the dragon?" Myrcella asked, finally plucking up the courage to mention his most famed victory. They had spoken often about the war, and Robb had relayed many tales to her, but never that one. He never spoke much of the war beyond the Wall either, though for that Myrcella was rather grateful.

"He made a nuisance of himself, distracted the great thing more than anything," Robb told her, and she nodded slowly.

"Is it true you were injured?" she asked.

"I do not think a man could take down a dragon without sustaining some kind of injury," he responded, and she tilted her head to look up at him.

"I suppose," she agreed with him, now unable to stop thinking of the scars that marred him that she was yet to see. I will see them soon enough. I will know all of him, as he will know all of me.

"It wasn't quite as horrific as the tales will tell you," Robb told her, as though he knew exactly what she was thinking.

"It matters not to me, scars are a sign of bravery and sacrifice. They show that a man is willing to fight to protect what is his," Myrcella said seriously, and his brows raised slightly in response.

"There you go again, sounding wise beyond your years. How did you get so wise, if I might ask?" he said quietly, and she smiled at him.

"I read a lot of books," she told him, and he chuckled in response.

"That must be where I am going wrong, I have not the time nor the patience for reading. Nothing is ever placed before me that isn't related to the kingdoms," he sighed.

"You don't need to read stories, you have lived them. The tales are an escape for those who have never known adventure," she responded, and he shook his head slightly, chuckling again.

"You have an answer for everything," he said almost incredulously, but she could tell by the warmth of his voice that it was meant as a compliment.

"You are rather wise yourself, even my grandfather will admit that," Myrcella told him, "though, I confess, never in the company of my mother." Robb snorted at that, a small burst of laughter leaving him. She smiled herself, pleased that her words had not been taken badly. They had been said without thought, as her words with him often were now. At first she had been tentative and thought the words through in her head first. Then as she grew more and more comfortable around him the words just came more and more frequently without her thinking first.

"I confess, I cannot help but have a grudging respect for your grandfather. It would be impossible not to, what with all the planning and the fighting we did together," Robb said.

"That is almost exactly the same thing he says about you," Myrcella giggled slightly, Robb joining in with her laughter for a moment. They lapsed into silence for a while after that, Myrcella watching Grey Wind as he continued to bound ahead of them. She could not be sure, as she did not turn her head to see, but she had a suspicion that Robb was watching her as she was watching his wolf. The thought made her stomach twist in knots, but not the same nervous knots that had tightened within her on the arrival here. These knots were altogether more pleasant. In the end she could take no more, casting her eyes about the place for inspiration. "The snow didn't settle," she finally said, seeing a hint of frost clinging to the vegetation, but no sign of any of the flakes that had fallen the night before.

"Believe it or not, it is still a little too warm," Robb replied.

"I imagine it will not be long," she mused, her eyes catching a bed of wilted flowers. They looked rather sorry for themselves, perhaps winter would be a mercy for them.

"No doubt," Robb agreed, "but we can at least hope that it will stay dry for us tomorrow." Myrcella hummed her agreement, unconsciously leaning her head closer to him so it brushed against his upper arm. They had almost done a full turn of the garden now, and Myrcella wished that they had walked a little slower. These walks were the most enjoyable part of the day, the time when she and Robb could talk openly and honestly with one another without the threat of anyone overhearing them. It was rare they encountered anyone else out here, and Myrcella was glad of it.

"I don't suppose we could walk around again?" she asked Robb hopefully, inwardly praying that he would say yes. He chuckled lightly and she bit down on her bottom lip, waiting for his answer.

"I don't see why not," he said in an amused tone.

They walked the rest of the path to the gate, Robb suggesting they take a different path for their next turn. Before they had reached a decision however, the creak of the gate drew both of their attentions. "Forgive me, your Grace, princess," Ser Rodrik bowed his head to each of them in turn.

"You have news for me?" Robb inquired of the master-at-arms.

"Word from Torrhen's Square, your Grace," the older man told him, a rather grim expression on his face.

"I assume it is not word that I will like," Robb said heavily, and Ser Rodrik inclined his head in agreement.

"Master Hellman calls for aid, the food stores are being looted on an almost nightly basis. Even with the extra guard it is no good, two of the guard were badly beaten on one occasion and are still recovering with the Maester," Ser Rodrik explained to him, and Robb sighed heavily at her side, his hand coming to run through his hair.

"I suppose Master Hellman realises that I am getting married tomorrow," Robb said irritably, and again Ser Rodrik inclined his head.

"He sends his sincerest apologies, your Grace. But at this point he does not think anything but your own intervention will quell this matter. If it goes unchecked then word could filter to other settlements, and then you really will have a problem," Ser Rodrik told him, and Myrcella glanced at Robb to see him nodding his head in defeat.

"I'll take two hundred," Robb said heavily, "make sure they are ready to leave the morning after the wedding." Myrcella couldn't help but clench her hand tightly around his arm at that, and she knew that her dismay must have shown on her face as Ser Rodrik sent her a sympathetic smile.

"I am sorry, your Grace, princess," he bowed his head, and Myrcella tried to smile for him.

"It was not your doing," Robb said, his smile looking a little forced to Myrcella.

"If it cheers you, your Grace, there was also a letter from Pyke," Ser Rodrik continued, putting a hand into his cloak and drawing out a letter. Robb took it when he was offered, sliding it beneath his own cloak.

"Doubtless more of Theon's usual vulgarity," he said, the smile on his face looking more genuine this time.

"No doubt, your Grace," Ser Rodrik chuckled, before he bowed his head to them both once again. "I will take my leave now, your Grace, princess." With that he turned and made his way back out of the gate, doubtless on his way to begin preparing the two hundred men that Robb would be taking with him to Torrhen's Square. If this were the southern kingdoms then she knew well enough that a royal envoy would be sent, Tommen himself would stay at the Capitol. This wasn't the southern kingdoms though, and Robb was not Tommen. He did things his way, and his way involved getting his hands dirty.

"I am so sorry, Myrcella," his genuine apology was almost enough to have tears springing to her eyes.

"I would expect no less, knowing the kind of king you are. Of course, I wish you didn't have to go, but I respect and understand why you are doing so," Myrcella told him, meeting his eyes so he knew that she meant it.

"I know Winterfell will be in safe hands in my absence," he smiled down on her and her eyes widened.

"Me?" she asked incredulously, his smile widening in response.

"Who else? You will be queen. There will be plenty of people here to help you, don't trouble yourself," he soothed her, his hands coming to rest on her upper arms and rub gently up and down them.

"How long will you be gone?" she asked, unable to keep the trace of fear from her voice.

"A week, perhaps. Not long at all, not really," he promised, and she nodded her head in agreement.

"Good," she smiled, feeling him squeeze her upper arms lightly in response.

"Shall we continue our walk?" Robb suggested. "There is no reason for us to let this news spoil our day."

Myrcella was sat idly pulling the brush through her hair when the light tap came on her door. She set the brush down and turned on her stool, calling for her late night visitor to come it. It was Lady Stark, and Myrcella was on her feet at once. "Relax," Lady Stark advised her at once.

"That is more easily said than done, my lady," Myrcella told her honestly, and the older woman smiled in response.

"Sit at least," she advised her, and Myrcella did as she was told, resuming her place on the stool. Lady Stark in turn crossed to perch herself on the edge of the bed facing her, the action making her swallow hard. "I took a guess that you would still be awake," Lady Stark said, and Myrcella smiled weakly in response.

"Very astute of you, my lady," she said.

"Are you worrying about tomorrow?" her future good-mother asked her, and she sighed slightly.

"A little," she confessed, "but it is thinking of the King riding out the morning after our wedding that is playing the most on my mind. I know that it isn't far, and that he is only dealing with a small group of thieves but…I don't like it." Lady Stark smiled at her sympathetically, slowly reaching one of her hands to take one of Myrcella's.

"I hate it when he rides out. I always have, from the first time he was old enough to go with Ned to one of the holdfasts. But he must, and he will, because that is the man his father taught him to be, and the king he has chosen to be," Lady Stark explained to her, a sad little smile on her face.

"And I will wait for him patiently, and pray for his return. As you have no doubt done yourself for many years," Myrcella smiled in response.

"It will be nice to have company in the Sept for once," Lady Stark said, a real sparkle in her eyes that made Myrcella feel warm and content inside.

"I will be glad to join you," Myrcella told her honestly.

"Is there anything else that is bothering you? Tomorrow night, perhaps?" Lady Stark asked her quietly, in an almost apologetic manner.

"I know well enough what will happen tomorrow night," Myrcella said, averting her eyes for the first time.

"It won't be perfect, or painless, but it gets better," Lady Stark told her, and Myrcella could almost feel the embarrassment rolling between them.

"My mother told me all about it," Myrcella almost cringed, her hands coming to fist in the silk of her robe.

"I'm sure," Lady Stark said drily, and Myrcella couldn't help but smile slightly. "You know…" Lady Stark seemed to hesitate, and Myrcella somehow forced herself to look up and meet her eyes again. "You know, it does not have to be a chore, nor a burden," the older woman told her awkwardly, "it can be special and loving, and pleasurable for both husband and wife." Myrcella swallowed hard at that, her cheeks burning. She could even see that a faint blush had risen up on the cheeks of Lady Stark, and for some inexplicable reason it made her want to laugh. She resisted. Just about.

"I think there is more between Robb and I already than there ever was between my mother and my father," Myrcella said honestly, "and for that reason alone, I know that tomorrow night will not be quite the same ordeal she prepared me for."

"Good," Lady Stark looked relieved, and Myrcella inwardly prayed that this could be the end of the awkwardness. "I will leave you to try and get some sleep," Lady Stark smiled at her, rising up from her perch on the edge of the bed.

"Thank you," Myrcella responded, rising up from her own place.

"Sansa and I will come in the morning to help you get ready," she told her, and Myrcella nodded in response. Lady Stark merely smiled warmly once more before she made her way to the door. She was halfway through it when Myrcella found her voice again.

"Lady Stark," her future good-mother paused and looked back at her; "really, thank you."

A/N: Hope you enjoyed! More mid-week with the snippet from the Capitol, and then the wedding itself next weekend!

:)