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The Voice That Draws You Home: Sascha

Sascha came back to the world with her throat filled with a scream. She clawed at the shadows surrounding her, her nails finding the flesh of unknown people, as she sought for something to ground herself to. The pain in her left side, just below her breast, made itself known within seconds of her consciousness. It felt as if the spear was still buried between her ribs, ripping her open. She was cold, oh so cold, and yet her insides felt as if they were filled with a burning fire.

"Sascha!" One of the shadows made itself known as it surged forward and grabbed hold of her flailing arms. She turned towards the voice but could still not see clearly; all she saw was the blurry outline of Robb's face. "Be still. All is well." His body half lay atop hers in his efforts to hold her still. Why was he here? He further surprised her by leaning forward and kissing first her brow, then her cheek, and would have kissed her lips but she pulled back in confusion. Why was he kissing her? "Sascha, it's me, Robb, your husband."

Sascha croaked and almost immediately she felt a cup pressed against her lips. The cool liquid assuaged the pain her earlier scream had rent. She closed her eyes and tried to take steadying breaths, difficult to do with Robb still on her. Sascha pushed at his body as she pulled at her hands and repeated the gesture until he withdrew, though he remained by her bedside and still held one of her hands. She felt sluggish in thought and body as if a veil was being held up in her mind or an invisible layer of water lay around her body. Sascha opened her eyes when she heard another voice, a woman's voice, speak.

"Give her time, my lord." Sascha opened her eyes and blinked rapidly in her attempt to do away with the blurry nature of her surroundings. She recognized that voice somehow; almost as if it had been inside her very being, and not so very long ago either. "She is in shock and it will take time for her to reacquaint herself with the world of the living."

Sascha felt the chill deepen. What did that mean? Who was that woman? Sascha moaned and tugged again at her hand, only feeling a smidgen of relief when Robb let go of that too. She didn't understand why Robb would want to touch her. He disliked her. He hated their marriage. Having him touch her almost lovingly just further confused her.

"Please," Sascha managed to whisper, "what is going on?"

There was silence for but a moment before she heard the rustling of a dress and felt a warm, feminine hand take hold of hers. "My lord, I believe the queen would wish to be informed of Lady Sascha's revival." Sascha didn't need to see clearly to recognize the hesitation in Robb's body stance at her bedside. "The time away may allow her greater adjustment as I explain events to her." Robb still didn't move, and the woman's voice took on a greater note of authority. "You brother Jon also took time to readjust to the world of the living as well as to his resurrected body, if you love your wife as much as you say you do then you will abide by my advice. I advise you to leave now so I can talk awhile in private."

Sascha watched in confused fascination as Robb took hold of her hand again, bent over it, and pressed a soft kiss to the inside of her wrist where her heartbeat pulsed. He stood up and after another moment finally left. The woman also let go of her hand and Sascha turned her head towards a scraping sound. She then recognized that the woman had pulled a chair closer to her bedside.

"Lady Sascha," the only thing Sascha could make out through her blurry vision was that the woman was very pale but had red hair and wore red clothing, "my name is Melisandre. I am a priestess of R'hllor. Do you recall the incident that wounded you?"

Sascha closed her eyes and in an instant, she felt the spear sliding its way into her side, she heard the shouts of the queen's men, along with Brienne in her ears, and she had a memory vision of seeing Sansa Stark standing stricken next to one of her machines in the courtyard. Sascha opened her eyes and nodded.

"I was showing the queen my machines when one of them fired." Sascha pushed herself up until she was leaning against the wall behind her bed. "I know I'm in King's Landing and that Jamie Lannister and Brienne of Tarth have accompanied me but," Sascha pressed her fingers into her temple to stave off a headache, "I don't understand why Robb is here. Or why," Sascha closed her eyes and sighed, "have I missed something?"

She heard rustling and opened her eyes to see a cup being offered to her. When she sipped it, she tasted wine. It would help with the pain in her side and in her head. She eagerly drained the cup.

"There is no easy way to tell you this, Lady Sascha, so I will tell it to you without attempt for niceties. After your husband was informed of your injury, he traveled south by barge and ship. It was at White Harbor that I found him. I'd been waiting for him. For you see the Lord of Light instructed me to travel with a one-eyed lord to the King's Landing. I saw in the flames that I was to bring back to this world a weapon against the long night that is coming." Melisandre must've noticed Sascha's increasing frown and so adjusted her speech to less religiosity, "We may speak more on that later but for now it is important to understand a few things. One, by the time Lord Stark and I arrived three days ago, you were dead. You'd died sometime the day before."

Sascha felt numb all over except the ever-present thrumming of her spear-wound, "What do you mean? If I'd died, how are we having this conversation?"

"Once before, with Lord Stark's brother, I was able to use my powers from R'hllor to resurrect Jon Snow. If I am not mistaken, you are acquainted with a fellow believer, Lord Beric Dondarrion." Sascha understood then, what had happened. She did remember talking with Beric on the way south and she remembered his tales of numerous resurrections. "I know the Lord of Light would not have brought me here if he had not intended you to live. So, I performed the ceremony without apprehension, unlike my ceremony with Jon Snow."

Sascha felt some of her earlier trepidation ease but still much was left, "Did it work right away?"

"No, but I never doubted that you would somehow return to us. And you did. Your heart began beating yesterday and today you have come back to us in full. You must have been brought very low into death for it to have taken so long to return." Melisandre smiled and it was then that Sascha realized her vision had finally cleared and she could see in full the beauty of the woman sitting before her. "You still feel confusion though, I see."

Sascha nodded, "The familiarity between Robb and I," Sascha felt odd discussing such intimate matters but then again this woman had resurrected her dead body, "I don't remember it. I feel as if there's much in our relationship development that I don't recall."

"Yes, that is what I had feared given your response to him. Did Lord Beric speak to you of his memory loss with each resurrection?" Sascha thought for a moment before she recalled him briefly referencing it. She nodded. "I do not know why R'hllor would choose to take that memory from you in your return, but he has deemed it necessary for whatever it is to come in our fight against the long night."

"You mean the white walkers are coming? You've seen this in your flames?" Sascha didn't put much stock in most religions and ceremonies but she was a dead woman sitting and talking so perhaps there was more to this one than others.

"Yes," Melisandre nodded and it seemed like she wanted to say more but they both heard approaching footsteps so she instead said, "Do not shun your husband, Lady Sascha. Though you do not recall his love at this time, you must know that whatever occurred between you that what you remember now is no longer reality."

Melisandre stood while the door opened. Sascha nodded her head in respect to the queen as she came in, accompanied by Tyrion Lannister and Robb. Melisandre bowed low to them all.

"I see now that you spoke the truth," Daenerys studied Sascha for a moment before she turned to look directly at Melisandre, "we have much to talk about then, regarding your visions of the north."

She gave a slight nod and Melisandre took that to mean she was dismissed. She looked more once to Sascha and, after a small smile, she disappeared from the room. Daenerys took the chair Melisandre had occupied while Tyrion chose to remain near the foot of her bed and Robb again took up position on her other side but this time, he didn't reach for her.

"I am not certain if you recall my gratitude, Lady Sascha," Daenerys' voice sounded almost childlike for a moment and Sascha remembered just how isolated this woman must feel in this country that was not yet her country, "But I wish to express it once more. If it had not been for your quick movement, I would be the one lying where you are." She was silent then and Sascha saw a frown tugging at her lips, "And I do not know if this woman's god would have instructed her, in the same way, had I received that spear." Sascha opened her mouth to reassure the queen but a hand gesture from Daenerys stopped her. "It is a sobering but necessary reminder of my mortality, Lady Sascha, and I have come to appreciate it."

"Thank you, your majesty." Sascha bowed her head to the young queen. "I did not think before I moved. I was in much the same state of shock as everyone else. I had double-checked all the machines the night before and even just an hour before your arrival I ensured that all of them were unloaded and set in such a way that they would not fire."

Tyrion spoke then, "The men you brought with you, are they all loyal to you? Trustworthy?"

Sascha looked from Tyrion to the queen to Robb before she answered, "Yes, some of them came with me to the Starks after our marriage and others we recruited from the surrounding countryside. I have had no reason to doubt any of them." She got a sick feeling then and looked at Daenerys, "Where are they now?"

"They are in prison until we know for certain what happened." Daenerys frowned and shifted in her chair. "I wanted to execute them but my Hand," she indicated Tyrion, "and the Ser Jorah, captain of my guards, advised me to stay the execution until we were able to determine the true cause." She looked again at Tyrion before turning back to Sascha. "There is also the matter of Lady Lannister."

Sascha almost reached out for the queen but instead fisted her hands at her sides, "I know without asking that Lady Sansa would have never done this. For one, she had only just become acquainted with my machines, the same as you. Though they are easy to maneuver and fire, without training it would be near impossible to fire so quickly and so accurately so soon. And for two, she has not the motive nor the demeanor of a woman intent upon destroying herself, her husband, or her family." Sascha looked to Robb for help and found his eyes holding a light in them that she recognized now as love but that she didn't remember feeling herself. She broke eye contact and looked back to the queen. "I hope that your majesty takes these details into consideration upon reflection of Lady Lannister."

Daenerys surprised them all by refilling the cup of wine and handing it to Sascha. Sascha's voice had grown deep and gravely the more she'd spoken, as her throat still felt raw; it was kind of the queen to notice.

"These details have been spoken to me by a number of individuals," Sascha thought she heard a smile in the queen's voice, "and I too do not believe Lady Lannister to be capable of such treachery. However, the circumstances being as they are, I believe it is best that she remains confined to her quarters until we know who is responsible."

Robb shifted closer to the bed and Sascha saw out of the corner of her eye his hand twitch as if it wanted to reach for her but he'd thought better of it at the last moment, "Do you believe there to be a plot, your majesty?'

"There are always plots, Lord Stark," Tyrion was the one who answered, "but it remains to be seen what plot is afoot. Was someone hoping to defame me, my wife, the Stark family, or be rid of the queen?" Tyrion shook his head. "There are many avenues through which this plot could travel, and we have sent out a number of agents to pursue each one."

Daenerys leaned forward slightly, drawing Sascha's attention, "Ser Jorah is investigating along with these other agents. Before the attack, we had already been alerted to an underground faction here in King's Landing that had been storing up weapons and seeking to recruit fighters. From what we know they seek my life." She sighed and again Sascha saw more of a young woman robbed her a proper childhood than she saw a queen. "But they will not escape me."

"I do not doubt that, your majesty." Sascha handed back the now empty cup. "If you permit me to ask, what you said to the priestess about the north, what are your intentions?"

Daenerys was silent for a long enough time that Sascha almost regretted asking. But then the queen stood and folded her hands in front of her body, "There is still much to be discussed regarding the north but suffice it to say that I have more reason to believe your story of unnatural threats than I had before." She offered Sascha a small smile. "Rest well, Lady Sascha. We will speak more on the morrow."

She disappeared with Tyrion in her wake. Sascha avoided eye contact with Robb but was very aware of his movements in the room as he came around her bed to take residence in the chair. It was strange. She remembered certain details of her marriage with him, even knew how he lost his eye, but the emotions connected to these memories, those were what had been taken. Whatever growth they'd had in their relationship, she could not remember it. She now felt much the same for him that she had on their wedding night, a resigned trepidation.

Robb broke the silence by telling her news of his brother and the wall, of Winterfell, of Arya's pregnancy, and Arra's growth. Even when he spoke of Arra, Sascha could not recall feeling the same level of warmth and affection for the child that Robb's words denoted she must have. In the telling of these things, Robb also drank wine, as if he was battling his own pain of a type. She remembered that the maesters had instructed him to do several exercises each day to keep his joints loose; had he not been doing them?

"What is it, Sascha?" Robb spoke directly to her then. "I cannot even begin to imagine what it is like to have been dead and brought to life again." He paused then and took a long drink, as if talking about her death was upsetting to him. "So, I will not venture to know what exactly is going on inside your heart or mind at the moment, but it would help me, and us, if you could tell me what's happening here."

Sascha was surprised. The Robb she recalled would not have spoken so patiently or kindly to her at this time. More flashes of moments in their marriage came to her mind then, instances where she'd seen evidence of his personal growth, and while she acknowledged that they were factual memories, she still did not feel the same emotions that she had before. Sascha sighed.

"Melisandre, and Lord Beric, both explained to me that with each resurrection certain memories are lost. It seems that for me, whatever warmth and affection we have managed to build in our marriage has been lost in my resurrection." Sascha watched as a pained look crossed Robb's face. "While there are gaps in my memories of what's transpired since we were married, I remember most of it. However, it is strange and difficult to explain, but I don't FEEL anything in connection to those memories. It is almost as if they were lived by someone else and I am just a witness to them."

Robb leaned his chin into one of his hands as his arm braced on the chair. He studied Sascha's face awhile before he spoke again, "What do you feel for me right now?"

"Caution, confusion, a type of respect." Sascha thought longer then added. "I do find you attractive and now that I'm more adjusted to things, upon reflection I do appreciate the affection you offered me earlier. But aside from that," Sascha sighed and shook her head, "I am sorry Robb."

Robb studied her longer then nodded. He leaned forward until his elbows rested on his knees. He looked tired and Sascha was made to wonder if he'd not slept since his arrival. What a shock it must've been for him to arrive and be told of her death only to have Melisandre claim ability to resurrect her. And more still, to be talking with her now. If things were true, that he loved her and that she'd loved him, then her treatment towards him now, especially considering her death/resurrection, must be trying for his nerves. Sascha leaned forward—not too much considering the bandaging over her wound—and after only a moment of hesitation laid her hand on top of his bowed head. Robb immediately raised his head, a look of unabashed hope on his face, and Sascha felt a pain in her heart at the sight.

"I hope that with time I will recall what I have lost," she began to withdraw her hand, but Robb reached out and took it. She didn't pull away.

Robb stroked her hand with his fingers and spoke with an emotion-filled voice, "I hope that too. Or at least," Robb gave her a wobbly smile, "I hope that you will allow me to court you."

"Court me?"

"Yes," Robb's smile grew in confidence and he dropped a quick and familiar kiss on the back of her hand, "I will not pretend that our coming together into happy matrimony was easy, and most of the time I was an ass." Sascha laughed and did not doubt his words. "But I choose to see this as an opportunity to start over." He again kissed her hand and this time he held it against his face in such a tender way that though Sascha didn't yet feel for him what he might hope she did respond to the affection he was giving her. "I will woo my wife as she deserves." He kissed her hand again before letting go.

Sascha smiled in return, "That is perhaps the best choice of action at the time." A wave of fatigue hit her then and without saying anything she was surprised that Robb immediately stood and helped her lay back down again. He tucked the blankets around her in a way Sascha hadn't had done since she was a child and he smoothed the hair away from her face much as a lover might, and Sascha knew that they had been lovers but could not recall what it felt like or the emotional ties of sharing his bed. "Thank you," she sighed out once he returned to his seat.

"I will be here when you wake up again."

"You aren't going to your chambers to sleep?" Sascha didn't much like the idea of him losing more sleep on her account.

Robb smiled, "I will once you fall asleep," he patted her hand then picked up a book she hadn't seen sitting on the table by her bed; he raised it up for her to see, "I've been reading to you ever since they told me your heart was beating again. I don't know," he suddenly looked uncertain, "I guess I hoped that you'd hear my voice and come back to me."

She felt a wave of affection for him then and she reached out. He took her hand and pressed it to his face.

"Who knows, Robb, but maybe I did." Her strength grew weaker then and Robb had to put her hand back on the bed beside her body. He picked up the book again and Sascha fell asleep to the reassuring lull of his voice.

The Voice That Draws You Home: Robb

Robb looked up at the sound of footsteps in the corridor. It was Jorah Mormont. Glancing once more at the closed door that led to his wife's chambers, he pushed off from the wall and turned to face the approaching knight.

"Ser Jorah," Robb gave him a nod, "do you have any news?"

The older man looked tired in body and spirit as if he too hadn't slept well since the incident. It had been over a fortnight since Robb and the red priestess had arrived in King's Landing and in that time all of Sascha's men had been acquitted of the possibility of aiding in the attack, his sister had been allowed partial freedom from her chambers—she at least could now venture into the gardens again, and his wife was walking a short distance with assistance from a cane. Robb was only outside her chamber now because she'd requested a bath. Sansa was in there helping her, taking care to ensure Sascha's wound didn't get wet, and Robb had vacated as Sascha still did not remember all that they had shared.

"I do, but I'm afraid it is not as conclusive as we would like." Jorah also glanced towards the door, as well as back over his shoulder and on past Robb's, before he spoke again. "It is confirmed that the faction in King's Landing was involved in the attack and they did send an agent into the castle to sabotage the machines. From what Varys' agent could tell me, this faction has within its midst one of the Faceless Men." Robb's frown mirrored Jorah's. "It was under such a disguise that they were able to infiltrate without detection."

"That should be enough evidence to move on the faction, to make arrests," Robb watched Jorah's face fall, "what is stopping you?"

"We have already managed to arrest a few connected to the plot, and it is a multi-layered plot from what we understand of it. Assassinate the queen and her dragons will be unruly, unruly dragons are a threat to all the kingdoms, this threat will destabilize the political stability all across the land, making way for a new power to rise." Jorah sighed. "And that's just the beginning. The longer our agent is moving within the faction the more we are finding out and suffice it to say, Lord Stark, your family is as much a target as the queen."

Robb nodded, "You are giving your agent more time to try to find more information and more faction groups?"

"Yes," Jorah nodded, "not my first choice given what's at stake," his eyes again glanced towards the closed door, "but it is what the queen wants. For now."

"Thank you," Robb gave the knight another nod, "is there anything that you need of me or of my family?"

Jorah was silent a moment in thought before he shook his head, "Not at this time, but I will let you know if I do." He returned Robb's nod, "I hope that your wife continues to mend well."

He dismissed himself and returned the way he came, leaving Robb to reflect on his report as well as other recent events. The queen had indeed had a lengthy conversation with Melisandre, alone, the day after Sascha had awakened. Neither she nor the red priestess gave an indication of the particulars of what was said but after another lengthy meeting first with Tyrion, then with Tyrion and Varys, and then with Tyrion, Varys, and all her war councilmen, the queen had summoned Robb. She'd asked after his arrangement with Bolton, she'd asked for the reports Jon had given him about the Wall, and finally, she'd asked him what he thought she should do about the threat.

Robb had glanced at both Tyrion and Varys, not quite knowing how honest he should be, but then he gambled that it was unlikely that his answer would anger the queen so much that she'd kill him since his wife had saved her life. Of course, that was a hearty gamble considering she was a Targaryen.

"If you still have forces in Essos," he'd said to her then, "who could replace those here in Westeros, then I would shift my forces into three. One group remains in Essos, one group remains in King's Landing, and one goes to the Wall."

A few days later, and a dozen ships left for the north carrying on them a large number of her Unsullied soldiers while at the same time another group of her Dothraki riders departed via land. Both were instructed to destroy any Ironborn or bannerless marauders they came across who did not declare themselves for the queen, so it was a two-fold action. One, secure the Targaryen rule. Two, aid the efforts at the Wall. The queen intended to venture north with her dragons once word was sent confirming imminent attack from whatever unnatural forces lurked north of the Wall.

This decision had surprised Robb on its own. But the other decision made by the queen had confounded him greatly. Not only had the queen pardoned Jaime Lannister for his crimes against the Targaryen's and the Stark's, but she'd put him and Brienne of Tarth in charge of her Dothraki riders. The Dothraki had not liked this ruling at first, and both Jaime and Brienne had been staggered by it as well, but it was due to Tyrion's influence that it'd been made. The logic behind the decision, as Tyrion later told him, was that the Dothraki were still unaccustomed to Westeros language and culture and would be unable to determine friend from foe on their journey north. They needed a Westerosi commander to keep them from slaughtering innocents over a misunderstanding. Jaime was given the position as a test of his character and loyalty, that much was glaringly apparent, while Brienne was given co-commandership most likely to keep Jaime in her sights and out of trouble. For her own reasons, the red priestess had chosen to accompany them as well, making for a very strange sight he was certain.

But Robb wasn't certain what to think about the queen anymore. His opinion of her waxed and waned according to the day and her most recent decision. He still shied away from professing undying fealty and trust, however, very much due to the fact that she had dragons and Targaryen blood. Neither of those facts had ever boded well for long-lasting peace in Westeros.

The door opened and Sansa stepped into the corridor. She smiled at Robb and placed a hand on his forearm in comfort. Sansa knew of Sascha's memory loss, as did a few others, but it was Sansa who knew the most as she was the most involved in Sascha's healing. Though the red priestess had resurrected Sascha's body, the wound from the spear still needed to heal and her body as a whole still needed to recover its strength after so much blood loss—and life loss.

"Have you heard from Winterfell?" Sansa broke the corridor's silence with her question.

Robb nodded. "Gendry wrote to them that they made it to the Wall in one piece, and Arya relayed that to mother. Rickon has learned how to speak using hand signals and it seems that Grey Wind has adopted him in my absence." Robb smiled. "Mother has given up trying to keep Grey Wind out of Rickon's room, especially since Rickon is just as determined to have Grey Wind by his side as the direwolf is to be there." His smile fell then. "But the news is not all good. More and more wildlings are moving into the area, coming south as refugees from whatever it is attacking them north of the Wall. While mother doesn't think they are trying to cause trouble, it seems that our northmen are not taking kindly to the newcomers. There have been many needless deaths."

"I'm sorry Robb," Sansa squeezed his arm then let go, "she is sleeping now." She looked back towards the door before smiling at Robb again. "Don't lose hope, Robb. If I can grow to love my husband," her cheeks lit with color that Robb could detect even in the torchlight, "then Sascha can certainly remember her love for you."

After kissing her cheek in gratitude, Robb returned to his chair of vigil at Sascha's bedside. It was difficult, holding back his physical affection. But he knew that his restraint was proving to Sascha that he meant every promise he made and every look of love he gave her. He was determined to not be the wolf-pup she'd once accused him of being. Robb smiled as she turned her head on the pillows and let out an unladylike snort in her sleep. He was determined to be the husband to her that she'd always deserved.

Leaning forward, Robb pressed a soft kiss to her forehead before sitting down and picking up the third book he'd read since coming to King's Landing. If it took her much longer to heal, Robb would have to request a maester's chains for learning.