Happy Monday! Editing bugs are still alive and at large. Just fair warning that the rating will probably be bumping up at some point...be ready. Here we go!

Chapter Fourteen – Choice Needs

"I am not sure what I mean…why don't you ask your beloved wolf, what Lord Frey and his many maiden daughters asked for as toll to cross at the Twins…" his sharp green eyes danced with delight, sensing he had correctly hit on something between the eldest Stark and the silver haired girl.

Confusion rushed through Myra. Toll? Maiden daughters? As realization knocked the wind out of Myra, she felt angry at herself. What a fool she was… what was she compared to the daughter of a Lord? Did she actually expect Robb to keep a as true...

Through her slightly distorted vision she could still see that arrogant smirk on the Lannister's blood spattered face. She did not want him to know he had affected her so acutely. Myra reminded herself to be composed. Her determination to steadily face more people without fear to seemed to give her strength to defend herself as well.

"Ser, it seems that the wound you have sustained has caused your face to become stuck in a ridiculous manner… this is not your fault, but perhaps you should rest… if not for the sake of your face than for the sake of how seriously you are taken by others…" his smirk faltered. "Good night, Ser." Myra spun around and walked back towards and then down her row of tents with Silver following her. Only allowing her legs to shake when she was sure his piercing green glare could no longer see her.

She swallowed, looking at Silver for encouragement as she approached Robb's tent. A part of her wished to run away and another wanted to know the truth. If he had promised what Jaime Lannister said he had to the Freys any future she had wanted with Robb would certainly be gone. Could she be without him? Myra took a deep breath in preparation as she stood by the flap of the tent. She could detect a faint outline of light against the opening of the tent. She knew that he was definitely in there.

Myra glanced once again at Silver. She could not be without him… but she would make herself be. It was only right. She would hate for Robb to treat her as the Frey girl would surely be treated if Robb did end up jilting her. In the Frey girl's shoes Myra would also be hurt to find him having a love affair with another woman... she was hurt now. Robb could already love another woman, a lady, the thought made the silver haired girl want to run away in any direction.

"Courage." Myra whispered to herself, as she finally entered Robb's tent.

What she was met with broke her heart. Judging by the shirt he held in his right hand and the visibility of his hair covered chest Robb had clearly been in the middle of changing out of his dirty clothes when he had decided to sit on the edge of his bed. She could see a thin sliver of a long healed scar running across over his right collar bone to his ribs disappearing under his arm. There was also a long bandaged wound on his left forearm which she had not been able to see earlier beneath his clothes. His dark hair had been pushed to stick up in odd directions as though he had been raking his fingers through it. His free hand was covering his eyes, though his cheeks were stained with water and his body was shaking with quiet sobs. Myra felt her breathing was restricted once more, she was heavy again. As silently as she could Myra removed her cloak and shoes which helped with the weight, but found that she still felt burning within her body and that she could not get enough air.

As she pulled at the ties on the back of her dress Myra's mind longed for the cold and intrinsic freedom in the Northern air. From where she stood by the tent's opening Myra was able to wriggle out of her simple thick dress almost inaudibly. Left in her light and cool cotton chemise, she felt less burdened with room in her ribs to be free... to think. She padded to the table in the tent and placed her clothes there gently, Silver followed moving towards Grey Wind resting on top of him on the ground.

At Myra's movement Robb raised his grey tearful gaze, stopping her in her actions. "Myra." He spoke her name, choking on a sob. She had practically no control over herself, her legs simply moved her to stand before him just as he began to crumble again. His head landed against the soft span of her stomach as he fell forward. He wrapped his arms around her waist, clinging to her, burying his nose into her clothed skin. Myra's knees trembled as she felt hot gasps of breath escape through his lips.

"I have t…" Myra tried to keep her hands at her sides, disappointed that she had already betrayed herself. However, she found that as Robb began shaking with tears she could not keep herself emotionally in check, no more than she could be physically away from him when he was near.

"You are not going anywhere…" he gritted against her stomach, tightening his hold on her enough to cause Myra to worry about the wound on his forearm. As she raised her right hand to smooth his messy hair back. Myra realized in that moment that the idea of her ever leaving Robb Stark in no way, shape, or form could ever make any sense. "Are you?" He added, his voice small and uncertain.

She curled into him hugging him to her body, "Shhh...of course not…" she tried to relax him by running her fingers over the tense muscles of his bare back. "I can't walk out there in my shift can I?" Though she said it lightly, Myra realized that she had been proving to herself more and more that she could not leave him, even as she had told herself that she had been trying to decide on the matter. She could have kept every item of clothing that she had on but she had taken them off. She had unwittingly sabotaged herself. She had wanted to stay with him. She had no intention of leaving him.

Everything in her wanted to help the broken man she was holding close. Tonight his pain would come first. Though Myra felt as though she was on the verge of being torn apart with the knowledge that the man she loved could not be hers, she could not make herself bring up the topic when he sat in so much anguish. As she traced the tips of her fingers over his taut shoulders, Myra wondered about how long she would be able to hold her tongue on the matter. It seemed that her lips longed to broach the subject, she could feel the words about the Frey girl push against the backside of her teeth, yet she could not spit them out.

Instead Myra sighed, "Come on and rest now." She stood up straight, trying to push Robb shoulders so that he would lay back on his bed. But the grey-eyed man would not let her waist go and he took her with him as he fell back, landing so that they lay on their sides with her chin rested on the top of his head and his nose nestled against her neck. She could feel the stubble on his face brush the suddenly sensitive skin of her chest, skin made bare by the scoop in the cut of her shift. Robb's hot breath flushed her flesh, but when she felt his tears Myra filled solely with concern for him. She wrapped her arms around his head, wanting desperately to protect him, he seemed to have the same thought as he burrowed his face into her chest.

"Cry if you have to Robb." Myra drew her leg over both of his, trying to make him feel safe and calm. "I love you, I love you…" the refrain was all that she could think to say and so she repeated it, pressing her lips against his hair. She hoped he sensed the truth of her words, she felt as though she were forcing the emotion out to him through inch of her body. "I love you…"

Robb stopped shuddering slowly, taking in shaky breaths. He pulled his lower body closer to hers and dug his face further into Myra's skin, groaning deeply with sadness as he did. Between his breath and the heat of her skin his tears dried quickly.

"I suppose it had been building all day..." he tried to explain away his tears with his raspy voice. "I wanted you as soon as I had heard but..." his lips caressing her flesh and his tongue darted out as he spoke. "I'm sorry…you had to see..."

"Robb," she interrupted him. "Do not ever be sorry for what you do before me…" he nodded slightly, taking in a long inhale though his nose.

"It will be true war now…" he heaved a sigh, apparently speaking to sort out the events and his thoughts from the day "… I have to get my sisters back and there will be no peace now that my father is d-dead…" his voice broke for a moment, as she continued drawing calming circles over his bare shoulders, though she had tensed at the notion of lost hope for peace as well. He took in another breath, kissing her skin before carrying on in his rough voice "…they, the lords, made me…" he faltered, seeming to be truly trying to breathe her in he pulled her closer.

"They made you what?" Her fingers halted in their path across his skin, she could not mask the worry in her tone.

"They made me King of the North…" he professed, the tenor of his voice suggested that he was not wholly comfortable with the title himself.

Myra was stunned, she felt her mouth and body go lax in Robb's arms.

King?

When she could summon the sense to speak she stammered, "K-King… King of the North?" She felt him nod. Myra took a moment to fully wrap her mind around the idea. As she did the declaration of the Northern Lords seemed to make more sense. Surely if there was to be no peace between the Northern lands and the Iron Throne there would have to be a King of the North again. And her Robb who had led battles, led men, seen his great father rule a realm could be king…

"I know…" Robb's suddenly tired voice added "...'King'… it is too much for a day, too much for just over a year now…it..." he nuzzled his nose against her "... it scares me. My father is gone, never to return… what if I'm not ready? I feel like a foolish boy… I know that he would advise me and steer me clear of missteps, tell me how to spare lives…"

Myra did not entirely know why, but his words made her deeply sad. Sad enough to cause tears to prick her violet eyes. She squeezed her limbs around him once more.

When she was sure her voice would not crack Myra spoke, wanting to give him strength. "They would not have asked if they did not think you able…"

"I do not want to let my father or my family down…" he revealed, in quiet disinclination.

"You won't. If you are Robb Stark…if you can live with your conscience and not let yourself down, that is what matters… it is all that matters…" Myra tried.

His head shook. "You matter…" he murmured, his exhausted lips pulling across her exposed chest.

"Me?" Myra thought of her own compromised sense of right and wrong. "I will live with you Robb in any way I am able have you, whatever conscience …" though the thought of the heartbroken Frey girl caused Myra to feel horrible. Nevertheless, she knew to the very marrow of her bones that she could not leave the man in her arms.

"I am glad..." he spoke drowsily, "will be any type of king with… my Queen…Myra…" his sleepy lips had hardly been moving but his words rang in her ears.

Queen Myra? Yet another name that did not sit well with the girl. The words together had caused her to feel uncomfortable even though she was aware that the now sleeping man could not have meant them…

Remember about the future rating. Also new season in April! Haven't watched the promotional clips or the adverts (feels like watching would spoil some of the plot execution) but people talk and what they say sounds good so far. Excited! :)