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This chapter preview- Robb catches Farren in an effort of reassurance. Farren tries something new. She finds something hidden in the woods.


Farren saw herself defeated in an emotional war. The wind freed her cheeks of tears. With swift hooves, her mare rattled the ground, drawing up wet mud and clumps of grass. Having tasted a day in Winterfell was foolish. She had teased herself too well, and her mind grew weak.

I was chasing a Stark of Winterfell, and I never realized it. Otherwise, I'd of reasoned with the truth. I'm a fool. I could never be with Robb Stark. I am nothing compared to a Stark.

Stark they considered a great house of Westeros. How could a daughter of a lesser lord marry into the noble elite?

Marriage? Farren cringed with the word in mind. The notion was for thoughts a senseless maiden. Love was no valid reason for two to wed. Houses join for political reasons and never out of balance. Frith did not match Stark. Frith did even not match Bolton.

Robb Stark will be paired up with a girl from a great house, one whose name is Lannister or Tyrell. A lady with a future filled with prospects.

Farren's mind tangled in sorrow. She rode through the moors, with a wish to disappear in the fog. She jerked her rains suddenly, a shout echoed in her wake. She looked over her shoulder, seeing Robb was tailing her, his voice drew up behind, with a thunder of pounding hooves,

"Farren wait!"

The sound compelled her to kick to her mare for speed. An effort in vain, as Robb's voice was soon with her. She pulled back as her horse collided with its pursuer. The animals hit side to side in a tangle of legs. With a huff, the mare trudged backward cautious before a stallion wall.

"Let me pass Robb,"

"Why?" Robb looked confused, his horse paced about, dancing with the mare. "I asked the guard, and he said you were going home. I don't understand what happened. Why would you just leave Farren? You didn't even tell any-"

"I can't stay here!" Cutting him off left Farren breathless "I can't stay with you. I can no longer keep your company, so please, let me pass."

"Wh..." His lips hovered ajar as if holding on to the word. Lowering His dark eyebrows creased in a look of bewilderment. With a tremble of the head, he released his pause, "What?"

In pain, the ache of honesty escaped Farren. "I left because you are perfect Robb. You come from a perfect family with a perfect name."

Perfect. Farren sighed in a bitter flutter as she glared at Robb. Perfect, perfect was the best word to define the Stark family, the only word. Heavy hearted Farren examined Robb with a mock astonishment. "It's a miracle I even came to know you. I should not associate with you, my lord. You are too perfect, a son of House Stark indeed." It sounded mean when spoken, but she bestowed no hostility.

Robb looked wholly confused. He merely stared forward, as if his mind was churning. He had evidently not expected her answer to relate to him, nor have an offensive nature. He looked at Farren, squinting his eyes as if to see her better, "What are you talking about!?"

His questioning hand parted the air above him as he exhaled a bitter breath. Lifting two fingers he touched them firmly the chest, "Farren, I am not perfect, and My family, you've known...Farren, you've known them for a day!" He turned his head with a sigh before his eyes rebound to hers, "Having the name Stark does not make you perfect. I am far from perfect."

The mare exhaled impatience as Farren fought back tears, She recalled the conversation between mother and son. Robb's words resounded in her ears, his voice so clear as the spoken word. Farren is only an acquaintance, once she leaves I won't make an effort to see her again. The memory rushed her full of despair. It was a sad feeling she hid behind a stone expression. Her eyes held high and stern, "I overheard you and your mother, Robb."

The account startled Robb, leaving him shocked and dazed. "Uht." With a rasp, his mouth fell, but he withheld a response.

"Your mother is right, It's not worth arguing," Farren said.

Robb gave way to her with a frown. Farren held her chest long and tight and her back straight, arranging her mare to run. She shivered when Robb gripped her elbow from behind.

"Wait," His request faded to concern.

She had wished to ignore him, to shake him off and ride on. Refusing the impulse She complied, Robb rounded his horse to look at her, "What you overheard, it was not..."

"You agreed with her," Farren cut him off.

"I said what my mother wished to hear," Robb answered calmly, "Whatever I said, whatever upset you, I didn't mean it." His features cast blue emotion, and he rubbed his neck, letting his hand fall with a sigh. "Farren, I may have spent but a few weeks with you, but I know my feelings are genuine. I wouldn't lie to you." He paused as his stare abandoned her. "If you don't feel the same, then I'll let you go." With a shuttered breath His eyes leaped to hers once more, "But I don't wish to. I don't want to let you go."

She held her breath lost in his stare. His eyes blue as the ocean united to hers and they confirmed his words as sincere.

Farren bowed her head in thought. Robb admitted he would make no effort to see her once she'd gone, yet here he was before her. His actions came not determined by a courtesy of farewell but by something unrestricted. She realized Robb Stark did as he desired. He would love her if wished. No decree would not bind him. Robb was a man who left matters to his heart's choosing. She knew that now.

Though she felt foolish, Farren did not see it in his eyes. Her sorrow vanished. "I know Robb," She cooed softly. "I know now. Your feelings match my own." She smiled as his soft nod healed her.

All seemed right when they started back toward Winterfell. Their horses walked side by side as if they too had made amends. Farren felt exalted with the recovery of Robb's character. His smile and warmth. She glanced at the horizon. The sky painted the clouds in a glow, white and sheen.

Turning back with a smile, she noticed Robb observing her, he lifted an eyebrow and hummed, "You know, given your head start my lady, you were pretty easy to catch."

Farren pressed her lips in embarrassment. "I am afraid I disgraced my house's words," She admitted with the words of House Frith in mind. First they must catch you. Words were just words to Farren, but it seemed to dishonor her ancestors not to live up to them.

"You riding in that dress was why I caught you," Robb said, he shifted in his saddle for a better gaze as Farren tilted her head,

"My dress?"

"Sure," Robb smiled mildly, "It slowed you down,"

Farren grinned at him, a look of wit and spirit graced her face, "Can you honestly admit my lord, have you ever ridden in a dress?"

Robb returned with a good laugh, "I can't say I have."

"I felt I never rode faster," Farren shrugged the question, "How would my dress make a difference?"

"Have you ridden in nothing else?"

"Um, no, I suppose not,"

Robb beamed at her, his sapphire eyes gleamed as he shifted toward her. "In that case my lady, you've never truly ridden...I believe that's something we must change."

Winterfell was now discomforting. She did not wish to feel it nor be there but found strength in curiosity. Robb said he had something for her to wear that would change the way she rode. As he led her to his bedchamber, her eyes darted to everyone and everything. She begged the old gods that Lady Stark hadn't seen them. Desperate to avoid her company. Farren saw clear the women did not approve of her in Winterfell. To run into Robb's mother now would be awkward, especially in the situation.

Dear gods, if someone noticed us. Farren half muttered as they neared the corridors end. With a click of the hinge, Robb opened his chamber door. The pleasing scent of spice and incense came with the room's welcome. Trinkets sat on his cases and walls, a long sword and a pair of daggers, two carved figures of the Worrier and Smith. Draping the far stone wall hung an impressive Dire wolf banner, flawlessly crafted. Most likely his sister's work. Farren had smiled before her gaze shifted, Robb's large bed was inviting, adorned with a gray fur cover and a wolf pelt on top. She took sat and sank into comfort. Running her hand and fingers over what felt like velvet. Robb knelt before a wooden wardrobe with his hands shifting through the bottom drawer.

"Here they are," He said pulling out a few garments. He tossed them to Farren. She unfolded what fell in her lap, then held up a pair of brown leather pants and a jerkin top. Farren looked the pants over, then held them before her legs for compare. The bottom hems lined up perfect at the waist and ankles.

Farren raised a brow as she studied what she held. The garments were far too small to be Robb's, "I..? Who's are even these?"

"Mine." Robb grinned. "From when I was much younger, they about your size. Give them a try," Robb urged.

Farren hummed and surveyed the outfit meant for a man. The pants were a burgundy brown with a jerkin lacing to tie the front. The jerkin top, long sleeved and the inside lined with fur. The leather was finally stitched and sleek at the touch. They were garments made for a young noble boy rather than a simple farmer's britches.

"You want me to wear these?" Farren tipped her head, "Really?"

"Arya wishes to wear nothing but. I think she intended to claim these, but she already has a several pair."

"Your father allows her to wear them?"

"He probably figures it's easier than arguing," Robb smirked.

Farren hummed in thought, debating whether try on the masculine garb. The notion of dressing like a man did not bother her; it just went against what society imposed, mostly her grandfathers rearing. A respectable lady would never dress as a man. Farren sighed, Her grandfather would surely scold her, or even punish her for improper behavior.

"I don't think I could," She admitted then pressed her lips, turning her head with a sigh, "You would probably hate them on me."

"I would love to see you in them," Robb said with a glow in his eyes. "If we go riding, truly riding. You'll never keep up in your skirts." He moved behind Farren and wrapped his arms around her waist. Holding the pants close to her hips.

"Umm.." She hummed, her lips clasped in a debate.

"Come on." Robb bantered with a grin.

With a deep inhale, Farren thought of her grandfather chiding her. But with a smirk she remembered the man was hundreds of miles away. "I suppose, maybe I can give them a try."

As She began to loosen her dress, her look displaced, With a peek over her shoulder, she saw Robb smile. "Are you going to watch?" She grinned playfully.

Robb's broad smile answered her naturally. "I can try not to watch," He jested with a boyish smirk, "But I can't promise anything."

It didn't take long for him not to succeed. His hands gripped her hips thoroughly. He pressed his body against her, grazing up from behind. Wandering palms followed her curves causing her dress to slip and expose her figure. Her skin tingled as the fabric slid toward the floor.

He turned her to his kiss, as he shuffled her in his desired course, the center of the bed. Farren hummed as the fur caressed her back and legs. Robb eagerly tore at the laces of his jerkin collar, opening them to reveal his sturdy build chest. Farren sat on her arms for a better view. Her knees naturally pressed together as her nerves took hold. She wanted Robb with every source of the attraction. He was the vision of a superior man, a dominate son of the north. His figure achieved the appearance of a master sculpture's work. Perfect indeed.

His shuttered breath begged her to ease an overwhelming lust. He stared at her breathing as if to take off in a race, then grinnd. "Gods. Can you stay there forever?"

A giggle escaped her as she settled in love with him flirting half naked. Robb had not bothered with his pants when trudged across the bed, meeting her in two strides. Hovering, His arms supported his chest with no effort. He hummed as he tasted her lips, his tongue caressing in savored movement. Her excitement added to an apprehension, knowing what was to come and her legs gave way, opening to cradle him close between. His hand bedded under her neck, as his kiss sealed into a vibration and issued with a pleasure filled grunt.

She wondered why he hadn't untied his pants. The fabric at his groin skimmed between her legs. She knew his cock lay hard beneath. It brushed her like a hard rock. Feeling its length and size caused her to exhale a shaken breath. She was ready for her maiden's pain. The price small in regarding the pleasure that would follow.

Her lips parted as He grind his cock inside her thighs, rubbing upward with his pleasured hum. Robb yet to reveal what he rubbed between her legs. Her mouth ran dry in wait, knowing her maidenhood was close to its end. He could have it. She wanted him to have her. But he had yet to advance. With a quick beating heart, Farren made a timid decision, she would help him along, with a hint of desire. Closing her eyes, she slipped her hands to his groin and began to untie the laces. Robb hummed as she pulled at the strings.

"EMmm," He paused and released a hum. The sound issued as a seeming halt. Farren blinked, opening her eyes as Robb's fingers clasped her hand. Her knuckles grazed his bare chest as he pull it to her collar. "Mmm," With closed eyes, Robb shook his head no. He could not say it, though His breath shuttered to a reluctant whisper, "We shouldn't."

In the confusion, Farren studied his face. His eyes kept closed with a hesitant air. She wanted to ask why he stopped her, but the words would not part her lips.

Maybe he has never? She considered, but she could not speculate any such a man as a maid, a subject they never discussed. He knew not as She. But Robb was ready for her, his body yearned, still he denied the urge. He sighed, hovered above her looking down wary. Farren paused, She closed her eyes. The sound of Winterfell slipped through the window panes. She heard a smith's hammer hit with a pang. A dog barked. A female voice called out in ordinary class speech, mingled amidst clucking hens.

Farren opened her eyes to Robb gazing down with a soft expression. "I'm sorry," He murmured. Lust had merely ruled both, their thirst for one another blocked all else out.

Farren pressed in a sigh, What were we doing?

It would have been a mistake, with consequences of shame and embarrassment. Farren understood. Her ears told her Winterfell was not the place. Robb saved her from disgracing her name. If Winterfell had known or even speculated they had laid together, She would have felt humiliated. Their intimacy was inappropriate at his home, surrounded by so many and his family alike.

They would have labeled me that harlot Frith girl. Farren thought as she closed her eyes and shook her head.

Disappointment took Robb's expression. Farren attained solace knowing the situation had not depressed her alone. With a tender touch, She ran her fingers along Robb's jaw line, resting a hand on his cheek. "It's okay," She whispered, her mouth drew a small smile. Robb took her hand in his and brought it to his lips for an awaited kiss. He had the best judgment, better than her own. The rarest strength for a man, resistance. Robb wanted her, but he could not dishonor her. The notion added a stone to what he kept building in Farren's heart.

Farren's rational beliefs thanked Robb as they started down to the stables. Her lack judgment came close to making that walk painful, and far more awkward to be assured. She had dressed in the clothing Robb wished her to wear. The garb gave her an over awareness and sufficient embarrassment. The leather gripped her body so tight it left her feeling exposed. As if she were naked, and all eyes in Winterfell fixed on her, everyone in judgment. Farren sighed, She could hear her brother's laughter. The sound followed an image of her grandfather's firm scowl.

In the courtyard, She passed a window and glimpsed of the attire. At least, they don't look horrible. Farren reasoned.

Robb glanced at her. "They look good by the way. Hows the fit?"

His mind read her so well, seeing her unstable self-conscious and affording reassurance. Farren smiled with a shrug, "They're a bit snug in the shins but other than that, pretty good…" She ran her hands across her face, dropping them with a sigh "Honestly...Do I look ridiculous?"

Robb grinned brightly. "You look beautiful my lady." He shook his head with a pointed finger, "You have a tendency to do that don't you." With a smile, Farren nudged his chest. Flirting was quite mind easing.

Being amid the horses helped as well. The animals stilled anxiety and Farren gave her mare a good pat. Horse's don't judge. She thought. Her mind grew interested in how the new attire would affect her riding. Mounting her horse, Farren looked over to find Robb with a fist full of reins. He smiled, "I hope you are ready to handle the wind."

Farren could not gather how fast her mare bolted. The horse ran faster than any horse She had ever ridden. Robb was right, in her new attire, She could handle the horse considerably well. Easily keeping in motion with the mare with her shins gripped tightly. The animals head bobbed in a rapid flow, falling and rising in haste. Truly riding, as Robb called it, had delivered a sense of freedom. As The wind blew wild and endless, Farren's eyes to teared up in the gale. Exhilarated, She took in a breath of chilling wind. It filled her lungs with life. She fought not to cheer in excitement. Giving in to the spirit, She yelled out. Her wail of liveliness came amidst Robb's hearty laugh.

As She yanked the reins, the mare hammered the ground, with a pace fading to a leisurely gallop. Farren sat back in her saddle to rest. She felt the horse catching its breath below her, its chest moving her legs. The mare huffed with a flare of the nose. With a few firm pats on the neck, Farren praised her.

When Robb cantered up behind Farren greeted him with an excited grin. Robb looked on gleefully, and Farren saw his chestnut curls were windblown and his cheeks rosy red. She tittered a small laugh at the sight. Then wondered how much her hair had suffered. Running her fingers through her long dark mane took out a few knots.

"That was honestly incredible," She admitted, "I never knew I could ride so fast. I thought my brother was a better rider than me, and now I understand how he does it."

Robb surveyed at her attire, top to tail. "Well, he should never challenge you in those. I must say, my lady, I do believe you've lived up to your house words. I sure couldn't catch you." Robb chuckled with a raised brow and friendly grin. "And actually, I tried!"

Farren paired his smile, "I believe you caught me weeks ago my lord." She flirted with a found opportunity.

Her show of wit made Robb laugh, he nodded, "I feel I can admit the same."

Farren smiled, her eyes met his, blue and bright as day. She quietly enchanted him. He beamed at her in an enamored trance. Then broke free of the captivation with a hearty sigh. "Town is close by. Please tell me you're hungry," He said with a rub of his hands. Farren happily nodded, from the enthusiastic ride she was indeed.

They rode down a deer trail through the wood, a shortcut Robb claimed. The path was worn down to the dirt, making it easy for the horses. Farren breathed in the forest smells. The scent of Rivermoss and the sound of rushing water from a source unseen. She perked up, her ear caught the crack of a snapping stick. In the brush, the rump of a tawny deer passed behind a large tree. Farren smiled as arose a spotted fawn. On spindly legs, it strutted after its mother.

From above, a bird sang a three note melody. Farren glanced up to explore the treetops. Squinting she searched. Her eyes gaped open, coming upon leaves the color of blood. A streak of crimson mingled in with evergreen. The contrasted hues were beautiful in the afterglow of the sun.

Farren followed the branches that bore the red leaves, her eyes traveled slowly down a massive trunk until they fixed upon a carved face.

This is a god tree. Thoroughly hidden by the wood, they would have passed it without her wondering eyes. The Wierwood concealed its red leaves within the canopy as it did its trunk amidst the thick forest. The tree's face smiled as if it was comfortable in its sheltered home. The well hid Weirwood bore obscurely as if its location was left untold. It was odd the base had no offerings, not a candle or carved trinket.

"Is that an unknown God tree?" Farren asked Robb with her eyes stuck to the tree.

Robb leaned back in his saddle for a better glance, "It could very well be. I take this trail often, and I've never seen anyone around. Probably only local smallfolk and villagers know of that Wierwood, if any."

The forest spoke of the same rush of water. The sound provided a stable peace, a tranquility of immediate comfort. The tree revealed itself even greater further along the trail. Exceeding the forest the Wierwood dominated its neighboring trees. Great roots claimed a small glen. Light decorated the grass with the color of limes yet to ripen. Farren thought the tree's face was one bringing of ease, inviting believers to prayer. Red draping leaves were a silent reminder of the heart that grew at Castle Warren. The tree Farren held dear. She took salvation too often in the Warren's god's wood. It was a uniquely quiet place within the castle's walls. Her Lord grandfather was a man of temper. He was constantly yelling. A horrible sound undoubtedly combine by her brother's cries and pleas for forgiveness. Somehow they always did something wrong. At the Warren, the lord's grace came in the form of a strap or lash. To Farren, her god's wood was a sanctuary from all that darkened life. Under it's red leaves, she'd reveal her hidden hopes, those settled deep in her heart. There She would pray for her brothers and calmer days.

Farren glanced over her shoulder for a parting look at the Wierwood. Many hidden God trees likely existed, but the sight was rare. Unusual to be so tucked away and seemingly unknown. Such was extraordinary and so held dear within the faith. Silently Farren called to the old gods with a last glance and a silent wish.

Grant all my dreams to be true.

Sticks and undergrowth snapped under her horse's hooves as the trail grew thin. Farren closed her eyes as a leafy branch dusted across her cheek. The mare trampled through the scrubs until the trail let out, the forest opened to a field and an actual road. Winding down the hill rested the village. A detailed design of buildings formed a great sized town, at a distance of no more than a few miles ride.

"I'm excited," Farren said as she took in the view, the evening sun shown orange, painting the town in a coral glow. "I haven't been to town for a long time."

"Are there not many towns in the Bolton ruled regions?" He asked lightly.

"There are, but not at big as this ahead. I'd say the only one to compare is the Weeping Water town by the Dreadfort."

"Eh," Robb's lips cast a bitter flavor. "The Dreadfort. I can't believe I'll be visiting it in a few months."

Farren remembered Robb and his father would be traveling within a short time. With recollection Robb also said he would love to visit the Warren. In happy thought, She pressed her lips to hide her smile.

Robb exhaled. "luckily we will not be staying the night. I've heard one too many tales." Robb raised his brow with a huff. "I can not say I am looking forward to spending an evening with Roose Bolton either. That man always seems a bit off."

Farren hummed. "That filthy tale about Lord Bolton," She shook her head, "It aggravates me that my brother admitted he believes it. Hazel's always horrible." She said lightly, "But I'm surprised your lord father didn't track down whoever first told that tale and punished them for spreading a nasty rumor of his bannerman."

"What rumor?" Robb met with a lifted brow.

Farren tilted her head. Everyone knew that story. Had Robb honestly never heard it? Smallfolk along the Weeping Water were indeed a quiet sort. Though only ever in whispers, they still spoke. Farren hadn't assumed the whispers were not widespread. She felt utterly stupid, chattering on and bringing up a ban tale. Her grandfather would be furious.

...Huuha, Lovely ramble Farren. She muddled over her stupidity then blinked at Robb.

He shook his head with a hum of judgment, "My father has never had a problem with Roose Bolton, but I know he keeps a sharp eye on the Lord of the Dreadfort. If there's any cause for concern, he will look into it." Rob paused to meet her gaze casually, "So tell me, what was this offensive thing you heard?"

Farren's eyes grew as her mouth clamped shut, concealing her lips. He knows nothing of Lord Bolton and that Millar's wife. Perhaps neither does his father.

To tell him was fearsome. She would shock Robb with the disturbing tale, telling him her homeland's ruling Lord hung a Miller and raped his wife. Farren knew the story had no truth and to speak ill of her Liege Lord was very wrong. Her mind snapped quickly under strain.

"I.," She muttered, taking a second to concentrate. "I guess, from what my brother told me, they say the Bolton's used to flay men and they still keep skins in a room in the Dreadfort, and Lord Bolton keeps it a secret. Silly yes? I don't think its true. "Farren carefully lied.

Everyone knows that old story...Please know that story. She prayed glancing at to Robb.

"Oh yes, that's right, oh, I've heard that," Robb quivered, "There's the reason I'm dreading having to visit the Dreadfort." Robb paused, his mouth moved soft and slowly, "Dreading the Dreadfort..." As he trailed off, Farren noticed him silently repeating his words, as if he realized the humor after the thought. Tickled, He grinned with a scratch of the head, "Well, I'd say The Dreadfort fits Roose Bolton. The man's voice is alone disturbing," Robb turned wide-eyed with open hands, "And he never blinks! Honestly, I have never witnessed that man blink."

Farren smirked, "I heard my grandfather would lick the mud off Lord Bolton's boots if the man ordered him to."

Robb's eyes grinned with a solid chuckle. He ran a hand over his mouth to relinquish the laugh, "Ho, That's true loyalty. I highly doubt Roose Bolton would lick the mud off my father's boots, but I would pay a good coin to see it."

"My mother would spend more." Farren softly slurred. Robb heard, and he hummed "Does she not like the man?"

"No." Farren sighed deeply, "In truth, I think my mother hates Lord Bolton."

Robb pressed his lips to a side and raised a curious brow, "Why?"

"I feel I can't say. I do not know, but she behaves oddly around him. She tries to avoid him. It's almost as if she can't withstand the man's presence."

Robb grinned, "Well, can one honestly blame her?"

Farren mimicked his expression with a softer smile, but her brow furrowed. Often it was an mixed feeling. She couldn't understand why Lord Bolton had earned his reputation of an unseemly man. She'd never saw it in him. Her Liege Lord had always been kind mannered to her.

Farren ran her hand through her horses mane and faced Robb with a soft leaf honesty, "People think Lord Bolton is a cold man, but I, I just don't see it." She uttered softly. "In fairness, I feel sorry for him. I see it sad really. The man has no real family."

Other than that nasty bastard he was forced to claim. In good sense Farren held the thought.

She saw Robb's eyes raise in question, "I thought Lord Bolton married a Lady of House Ryswell. Did he not have a son with her?"

With the mention, Farren's gaze fell to her saddle, she traced the thin leather trim. "He did, but they both passed years back. His son Domeric, He died of a sudden illness, and Lady Bethany died so shortly after. Lord Bolton lost his only true son and his wife. He may not be the type to show his emotions, but losing one's family," Farren paused, she blinked away pity, "How could that not destroy a someone? If Lord Bolton is truly cold-hearted, I understand why. I feel the world has been cruel to him."

Farren looked at Robb. His gaze had fallen, and He pondered quietly. A light sorrow succeeded his usual bright demeanor. "I suppose I should have known that," Robb admitted. "My father tells me I should stay familiar with our vessel Lords, know who they are or who they have married. He knows our bannermen quite well, but I find it hard to keep up with them all. When the time comes, I will defiantly have to make a better effort."

When he looked at her Farren heartened him with a tender smile. "I'm sure you will know them all very well." She encouraged kindly.

The town gate lifted the somber mood. The energy of the large village had Farren anticipating an experience. She noticed Robb's excitement grew to suit her own. Through the town gate, a friendly voice rang down from above.

"Good evening to you M'lord! Nice to see you again so sudden."

Farren's gazed upward. The setting sun hindered her sight with a bright orange beam. Her horse shifted, and the glare slipped behind the wall. On the stone battlements of the town archway stood a sentry on watch. The man cupped his mouth with another shout, "It looks as a fine night, don' it?"

Robb naturally wore his friendly grin. He glanced at the man aloft. "Yes, beautiful weather." He raised a hand to call, "Do enjoy it!"

Farren smiled to herself. Robb was kind and cordial to everyone, no matter who they were, and people liked him. Even at the public stable, he and the groomer's boy made friendly conversation. A youth looked no older than eleven years. Most men would just hand their horse to the boy, and Robb did just that, but as they crossed the stable's threshold, Farren saw him turn back.

Robb dipped a hand into his cloak pocket, "Hey, Ready." he called to the boy, with a snap of the thumb Robb flipped a coin in the youth's hand as an added gratitude. It spun with a golden shine, revealing its value. A generous reward, and one of kindness. The stable boy grinned greatly, his eyes lit astounded. "Thank you, M'lord," He said overwhelmed and took a quick brush to Farren's mare.

Robb took hold of Farren's hand to swing as they strolled into town. The warmth of his fingers twined in hers ran clean through her. She knew Robb would make the finest Lord the north had to offer. A Stark true to his name. The gods chose right in making him one. With a faint sigh and glance at Robb Farren admitted to herself she was falling in love with him. The notion no longer frightened her. She trusted in her feelings as she did in Robb.

To meet his gaze made her forget all else. His bright eyes gleamed as if there were sapphires fixed within them. Have they ever known nothing other than the truth? Surely not. Robb's eyes could not lie, no more than his charming smile or his body.

His body. The thought of what nearly occurred in Robb's chamber She welcomed greatly. The picture remained vivid in her mind. If they were anywhere other than Winterfell, fate would have captured the moment.

I wonder if this town has an inn? The notion made her blush and dipped her head to conceal a grin. Keeping an inconstant mind that was full of desire. Her soul was so aloft that she missed a step on the cobblestone.

"Careful," Robb caught her with a grin, his eyes bestowing a radiant glow. He pulled her tight into his strong arms. Farren warmly flushed.

Surely every town has an inn.


Next chapter preview- Farren and Robb explore the town. The two share a memorable night, but She does something she thinks may have upset him.

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