A/N: Hey guys! New chapter, hope you enjoy it!

To the guest reviewer - so glad you're loving it, and I know daily updates would be great but I just can't write a chapter of this as quickly as I did with the others. It will likely stay and two or three chapters a week so I hope you can live with that!

Anyway, thoughts on this one would be ace!


XI


The light rain had turned into heavy downpours as Robb and his men rode back to Winterfell. When they entered their tents each night they would be soaked to the bone. All of them were used to such weather but there was a biting chill in the air that had been missing the last time they had experienced such rain. Everything was damp, even everything inside the tents. The only things they managed to keep vaguely dry were the furs and Robb wrapped himself tightly up in them every night and shivered himself warm until he finally fell asleep.

He had been dreaming of Roslin again, her image would plague him every time he closed his eyes. On some level he knew that he was thinking of her because of his decision to admit his feelings to Lottie. Some part of him still felt guilt and that guilt manifested itself in his dreams. He tried not to let it get to him, remembering Olyvar's words and remembering Roslin herself. She wouldn't want him to be miserable, she would understand the need for him to move on and remarry. He needed an heir if he was to be any kind of King. Bran would never be able to have children and Rickon was far from being of an age to marry. He was the King, it was his duty and his crown to pass onto his son when the time came for him to go to the Gods. He didn't want to pass that on to his little brother, his sweet, innocent brother. It was his burden to bear and his line to pass it down.

They weren't far from Winterfell now he knew that as they packed up the camp in the early light of the morning. The skies looked angry but thankfully it wasn't raining – yet. A few hours relief from the torrential downpours would be welcome indeed and Robb prayed that the rains would stay off for now. They would reach Winterfell as dusk began to settle if they made good progress. Robb had every hope that they would, they had been so far and everyone was desperate to get under a proper roof again so none of them complained about their King's relentless pace.

As he rode his thoughts drifted to Lottie, the beautiful young woman who was waiting for him. At least he hoped she was waiting for him, her letter had been full of her hopes that he would return soon and return safely. He couldn't wait to have her in his arms. He knew they had so much to say to one another but right now he just wanted to hold her. The rest could wait. He just wanted to hold her and feel how warm and real she was under his touch. He needed to feel that.

"Are you alright?" Olyvar asked from his side, snapping him out of it.

"I will be when we are back at Winterfell," Robb told him and he nodded.

"There's someone you're missing," Olyvar stated then and Robb flinched slightly. How did he know?

"What are you talking about?" he asked him and the man smiled wryly.

"I'm not a fool … I see the way you look at the Lady Charlotte," Olyvar told him and guilt stabbed him hard in the gut.

"I … there is nothing between us … nothing has happened," Robb told him firmly, meeting his eyes.

"Not yet at any rate," Olyvar said.

"Olyvar, I …" he began.

"You don't need to explain yourself to me, she's a beautiful young woman and if she makes you happy then you should be with her," Olyvar told him.

"But …" Robb started again.

"Don't go feeling guilt over Roslin," he cut him off, "she would want this for you, she would want you to be happy and move on with your life"

"I've been dreaming about her," Robb confessed then and his squire sighed.

"Because you've been feeling guilty," Olyvar guessed well.

"I keep telling myself it's alright," he nodded, "but she keeps coming for me and I feel like if I let myself be with Lottie properly that I will be betraying Roslin in some way and Lottie deserves better than a man who cannot love her because he is still caught up with his dead wife"

"I heard you denied Ser Johan permission to marry her," Olyvar said quietly then.

"I did," he nodded, "where did you hear it?"

"The men have been talking, I suppose you can guess what that means," Olyvar told him and he grimaced.

"I can," Robb said bitterly – they would think him a letch and Lottie a whore and the thought made him angry.

"Most know it's not true," Olyvar assured him.

"Most isn't all," Robb almost snarled.

"Don't worry about your reputation, you're the King, the people love you," he said then.

"It's not my reputation I'm thinking of," Robb replied quietly.


Catelyn huddled under the archway at the top of the steps as the rain lashed down. Stark banners had been spotted and one of the guards had come to fetch her as she had ordered them to when they saw any sign of her son returning. It had long since gone dark and most had already retired to bed. Her other children wanted to stay up and greet Robb too but she had insisted they go to bed and that they would see him in the morning for breakfast. His Lords were returning with him as well and she had made sure the guest rooms had been made up for them. No doubt they would want to rest at Winterfell for a few days before they returned to their own homes.

Catelyn felt oddly satisfied that Robb was arriving so late, if he had arrived earlier as had been expected then there would have been more of a crowd to greet him. A crowd that would no doubt have included Lottie Lannister. At least this way she could keep her son away from her for one more night. The letter still troubled her. Lottie had not told her the truth and she knew it. All she could do was guess what the contents were and that only led to even more troubling thoughts. The Maester had told her, after some gentle persuasion, that Lottie had sent a letter back to Robb. On being pressured further he revealed that she had been full of smiles when she had brought it to him and insistent that he sent one of his best ravens. From that he had concluded that the letter must be of some importance and Catelyn had reluctantly agreed with him.

She drew her furs closer around her as the sound of hooves clattering against the stones came through the rain. He would be here any second. For some inexplicable reason her mind was pulled back to the Twins and the time they had rode under the gates for what would become Robb's wedding. He had been so apprehensive.

"Try not to frown so much when you're before Lord Frey," she scolded him gently.

"Am I supposed to look thrilled?" he countered moodily.

"This is supposed to be your wedding not a funeral," she shot back.

"A wedding I never wanted," he snapped and she felt the guilt gnaw at her.

"It was the only way you know it was," she reminded him desperately.

"I know," he huffed as they rode under the gates.

"You know … you might be pleasantly surprised," she told him gently and he snorted.

"Somehow mother, I doubt it," he said with finality.

She pulled herself away from that memory then as the horses began to pull up in front of the keep. The men from the stables were there at once to tend to the weary mounts but Catelyn's eyes were firmly fixed on her son as he strode quickly towards her, his dark auburn curls almost black from the rain that had soaked them.

"You look in need of a hot bath and a good night's sleepy," Catelyn smiled as he reached her.

"You're not wrong there mother," he said wryly and she ushered him inside.

"I had the maids fetch hot water when your banners were spotted," she told him in the hallway.

"Thank you," Robb said gratefully, his teeth chattering slightly.

"There is also some of the good Dornish wine in your chambers," she added.

"Wonderful," he said honestly as he made his way towards the stairs, water dripping down onto the stone floor as he moved towards them.

Once up in his rooms he let his armour crash to the floor, pouring himself a large glass of rich wine and taking a long and grateful sip before moving towards the washroom, shedding clothing as he went. When he sank down into the hot water he felt the cold seeping out of his bones and he sighed out his relief. He let his mind wander as he relaxed in the soothing water. Wander to Lottie. He wondered if she was asleep or if she had stayed awake knowing he was returning. Would she have expected him to go straight to her?

That thought had him pulling himself up and out of the water and grabbing a large drying cloth to hurriedly rub the excess moisture from his body. He moved back into the main chamber then and pulled some clean clothing from the dresser, rubbing the drying cloth firmly through his hair for a moment before letting it drop and quickly dressing himself. He pulled on a dry pair of boots then and made towards the door, stopping just as he reached it and walking back towards the dresser and pulling out a cloak. The rain was still lashing down and even though it was only a short walk to the west wing he would be soaked again in an instant if he went out as he was.

Thankfully he saw no one as he hurried through the keep and slipped out of the main door. He huddle under the archway for a moment and lifted the cloak up above his head to shield him from the worst of the rain before he ran down the steps and across the courtyard. He practically fell through the door of the west wing and took the steps up towards Lottie's room two at a time. His pace slowed as he walked down the hallway towards her door, his mind finally working again and wondering what in the name of the Gods he was going to say to her.


Lottie turned from the fire when she heard the knock on the door. Her heart seemed to skip and she tightened her robe further about her before moving to answer it. It was Robb she just knew it. She had heard the clattering of hundreds of hooves through her peaceful sleep and had pulled herself out of bed. She hadn't known if he would come to her tonight or wait until the morning but either way she was in no mood for sleep anymore. Seems he wasn't either she concluded as she opened the door to reveal him stood there, his curls damp and tangled and a slightly apprehensive look in his eyes.

"I wasn't sure you'd come," she said honestly after a moment of awkward silence.

"I wasn't sure you'd be awake," he returned.

"I heard you returning I … I couldn't get back to sleep," she told him, stepping back slightly so he could come into the room.

"You got my letter," he said unnecessarily once he had closed the door behind him.

"Yes," she nodded, "and … you … did you get mine?"

"I did," he swallowed hard, his eyes finally meeting hers, his tongue darting out to nervously lick his lips.

"Robb …" she began but words failed her as he suddenly closed the gap between them and pulled her right into his arms.

Her hands clenched around him, holding tight to the leather of his doublet as his own crushed her silk clad body against his, his hands tight around her waist. As one they moved their heads, his leaning down as hers tilted up. When their lips met Lottie's heart sped up alarmingly and Robb's hands clenched even tighter in her silks. It wasn't the chaste kiss he had pressed to her lips in the armoury. It was real. It was deep and it meant something. Her hands snaked up and slid around his neck, the action somehow bringing their bodies even closer to one another.

They were pressed so tightly now that Robb could feel desire swelling him and he kissed Lottie even more insistently, slipping his tongue into her mouth to massage her own. A tiny noise of pleasure hummed at the back of her throat as he did so and she responded enthusiastically. Robb's feelings were raging now and he pushed her back slightly towards the bed. At his movement Lottie suddenly came to her senses and somehow managed to wrench her lips from Robb's. He was so surprised at the suddenness of her action that he let his hands come from her waist and she took a few steps away from him, breathing hard.

"I … can't …" she gasped out, "we … can't, I'm … sorry …"

"Lottie?" he frowned at her. What did she mean? Had she not meant what she had written in her letter? She considered him then and his heart pounded as he waited for her to explain.

"I won't be your mistress," she said then, "I won't do it … I'm better than that Robb. I know my name means nothing here but that doesn't mean that I will be used like that. I am still a highborn Lady no matter what they say about me and mine … I will not lower myself to be used in such a way, no matter how much I care for you … how much I want you. I won't do it Robb. I won't. I …"

She stopped then to draw breath and Robb knew that if he was going to stop her that he best stop her now before she continued on with her tirade.

"I wouldn't take you as my mistress," he told her then, his eyes not leaving hers.

"Oh …" she said in a tiny voice, a flush creeping onto her cheeks as she thought on what she had just said to him.

"I would take you as my wife," he continued and she stared at him in disbelief.

"Are you mad?" she whispered and a frown creased his brow as she continued to stare.

"No," he shook his head, "why would you ask me that?"

"Have you forgotten who I am? Where I am from?" she questioned him, her own head shaking.

"That matters nothing to me," he said insistently.

"I know that," she almost snapped, "but this isn't about you … what about your Lords? Your people?"

"This is my choice," he said firmly but she was already shaking her head again.

"Your Lords won't like it, your people won't like it … and your mother … well … she will hate it," she told him.

"My Lords have already agreed that my wife is my choice. The people will not care who I choose so long as they have enough food in their bellies and enough wood for their fires when winter comes. And as for my mother … well … she may not like it but I am her son and she will respect and support my decision," he countered her, his eyes never leaving hers.

Lottie dropped her gaze then as she tried to make sense of what Robb was asking her. He wanted to marry her?! The whole thing seemed utterly ridiculous. She hadn't known what to expect when he had knocked on her door but it had not been this. The thought that he would even consider taking her as his wife, as his Queen, was an utterly ridiculous one.

Robb watched her calmly as she thought. He knew she was thinking, a small crease always appeared between her eyebrows when she was thinking. It was clear to him that she hadn't expected his proposal and he suddenly realised that it had not been a very heartfelt one.

"I wouldn't have the first idea how to be Queen," she finally whispered.

"Forget about being Queen," he urged her, taking a step towards her, "forget about names and titles and all the ridiculous pomp and ceremony and just tell me what you would say if I was just a man and you were just a woman"

"I would say yes," she told him, meeting his gaze, "I would not hesitate for a moment"

"Then marry me," he stressed.

"But you are the King!" she burst out in frustration.

"Then what?! You want me to give up my crown for you?!" he almost shouted at her.

"No of course I don't!" she said desperately, "I don't want you to give up anything for me!"

"Then what?!" he asked just as desperately, "What do I have to do?!"

She didn't reply, she didn't know what to say so she settled for turning away from him. He wasn't about to let her though and he reached his hand out to grab at her hand at pull her back towards him. Before she could utter a word in protest he pulled her into his arms again and she couldn't help but cling to him, his safe warmth feeling so good enveloping around her. She breathed in the scent of him and wished it could just be as simple as her saying 'yes'. She could say yes. What did she have to lose? Nothing, was the answer. But Robb had so much to lose and if he staked it all on her and lost would he ever be able to forgive her?

"You know how much I care about you," he breathed against her hair then.

"I do," she agreed, clutching him slightly closer to her.

"And I know you care about me," he continued.

"I do," she repeated and she felt him place a kiss to the top of her head.

"Do you trust me Lottie?" he asked her then.

"With my life," she replied without hesitation.

"Then will you please trust that I wouldn't ask you to be my wife if I didn't know that everything would be alright?" he questioned gently.

"Robb … I …" she began but he didn't want to hear anymore of her doubts and negativity.

"I want you," he said firmly, "I would take no other; would you really deny the Northerner's a Queen?"

"I think they would rather no Queen than a southern one with the name Lannister," she told him.

"If you married me your name would be Stark," he countered and she couldn't help but smile.

"I do quite like the sound of Lottie Stark," she confessed after a moment and he pushed her away slightly so he could meet her eyes.

"Is that a 'yes'?" he breathed and she bit her lip slightly.

"Are you certain?" she checked with him, her eyes not leaving his.

"Have you not been listening?" he countered with a laugh and she couldn't help but join in.

"Yes," she finally said.

"Yes what?" he asked her and she swallowed hard.

"Yes I will marry you," she whispered.

Robb almost cheered in sheer relief but managed to keep a hold of himself, grinning widely at her before he bent his head to claim her lips again. It was even more furious than before, escalating almost at once, Robb once again moving her back towards the bed. This time she made no move to pull away or stop him and when they toppled back onto the mass of furs and blankets she shivered in anticipation as his weight pressed down against her. He was heavy but his body felt so good on top of hers and she let her fingers tangle in his curls as his lips continued to bruise hers.

All of Robb's carefully hidden and supressed feelings for her all seemed to bubble up to the surface then, his desire almost painful under his breeches. He let his hands wander her silk covered body, slipping his hand between the pair of them and tugging at the tie around her waist. Finally it came loose and he pulled her robe open, feeling her thin nightdress underneath, his hand wandering up so he could cup one of her breasts. She arched into his touch and he began to gently massage her, letting his thumb brush across one hardening bud, the desire to move his mouth from hers and engage it elsewhere almost overwhelming.

Lottie had never felt her stomach clench the way it was now, the warm wetness that she could feel pooling between her thighs had her almost blushing at her wantonness. She knew she should push Robb away, she knew that if they surrendered to this now they would have sinned in the eyes of the Gods. Men and women should not lay together unless they were husband and wife. She knew that. She had always known that since she had been old enough to understand what bedding was. Robb's hand at her breast and his lips against hers made it near impossible to think rationally though and the ache between her thighs was begging for relief.

As Robb's hand wandered to her thigh and began to bunch up the silk though she somehow found it in her to turn her head from his kiss. He was unperturbed though, his lips taking up his cause at her neck as she suddenly felt his rough, calloused hand on her bare thigh.

"Robb we can't," she moaned out, her body screaming at her to be quiet and let him have her.

"Don't deny me now Lottie please," he whispered against her neck, his hand on her thigh stilling; the one on her breast teasing her bud between his fingers.

"We can't," she moaned again, her body betraying her and arching even closer into him.

"I need you," he groaned back at her, his teeth grazing along the skin of her throat.

"Robb the wedding will not be for months … what if you put a child in me … everyone would know and they whisper enough as it is," she managed to get out.

"Damn it all," he growled against her neck. He knew she was right but he was aching for her.

It took all the strength he possessed to move his hand from her thigh and the other from her breast and push himself up and away from her. He tried to ignore the throbbing in his breeches but he knew it was no good, he would have to take care of it himself when he went back to his chambers. Lottie was flushed and breathless as she tugged down her nightdress and retied her robe about her. She watched him carefully, biting down gently on her lower lip as he got up off the bed.

"I'm sorry," she said as he went to pick up his discarded cloak from the back of her chair.

"Don't be," he shook his head, "you're right … it would have been a sin. You are to be my wife and I promised you I would never compromise your honour"

"Are you leaving?" she asked him then and he sighed heavily, he was loathe to go but he had to.

"Lottie if I stayed I am not sure I could refrain a second time," he told her honestly.

"What happens now?" she asked him then, a blush creeping onto her cheeks at his words.

"Well … the Lords are still here so I will speak with them in the morning," he answered.

"And then?" she questioned.

"And then I will tell my family," he continued.

"Your mother is going to hate it," she said knowingly and he grimaced.

"She will accept it when she sees how happy I am," he said although he was not entirely convinced by his own words.

"If you say so," Lottie said lightly and he knew that she too didn't believe it.

"Then a declaration will be sent to all the Lords of Westeros and to King Stannis announcing our betrothal and imminent union," he finished and she nodded.

"Imminent?" she questioned him with a small smile and a raised brow.

"The sooner the better," he almost growled, raking his eyes once more over her body.


A/N: Well that got things going! Importantly though, there's no mention of love yet ... that's still a way away!

Hope you enjoyed anyhow!

More soon(ish)

:)