Kissed by Fire

"By what right does the wolf judge the lion?"

"I only just got you back. Why the hell d'you want to leave again?"

"I made a promise to Lord Tyrion—"

"A Lannister."

"—and to our sister," Rose interrupts, "that I would return. She suffered enough when we were together. I'm not leaving her there to rot."

Robb sits up in his chair, tossing his quill down onto the table. "Men have been killed," he snaps. "Good men, men that I admire, all to ensure the three of you return, safely to me."

"They gave their lives for what they believe to be right. And I will risk mine to do the very same."

"The answer is no," Robb declares, firmly. "You're staying put."

Rose's eyes narrow. "Is that an order from my brother or my king?"

"Both."

Rose stares at him, at a loss for words. Who the hell does he think he is? Before she has the chance to ask, Catelyn steps towards her, taking her hands. "We'll find another way to ensure Sansa's safety," she insists, gently. "And we'll find Arya along the way, I'm sure of it."

"In the meantime?" Rose asks. Rage simmering in the pity of her belly, she snatches her hands away, ignoring the hurt that flashes across her mother's face. "You don't know what it was like, either of you! You can say you're sorry and promise to protect us, but we were treated like Joffrey's playthings, punished for your victories—!" she adds, pointing accusingly at Robb.

"All the more reason for you to stay," he sighs. "No one's going to hurt you here."

Rose crosses her arms over her chest. "I am going back to King's Landing."

Robb's face turns murderous. "No, you're not," he snarls, rising from his chair.

"Don't make me break my word."

"I broke mine for you!" he cries, rounding the table to stand in front of her. She can see the redness in his face, the fury in his eyes. "I released Theon for you!"

"You released Theon because I convinced you of his worth!"

Catelyn tries to get between them. "Both of you, calm down now," she pleads.

"You trust that Tyrion will keep you safe," Robb hisses, venomously. "Just like you trusted that Theon would never betray this family, never let any of his men lay a finger on you, and look what happened. It's safe to say you're not the best judge of character, little sister, letting that kind of man into your bed—"

Her hand flies up and across his face, the sound like a crack echoing through the meeting room.

"Rose!" Catelyn gasps, shocked.

Rose gapes, horrified at herself. She can feel her palm stinging from the impact, but it's nothing compared to the blossoming redness in Robb's cheek. He takes a deep, calming breath, straightening up to face her again. He looks at her with such animosity, he's momentarily unrecognisable.

He opens his mouth, but the sound of the door swinging open cuts him off. Rose turns and finds a squire standing, flustered at the entrance. "Forgive me, Your Grace," he gasps. "It's . . ." he trails off, a mild look of horror crossing his face.

The orbs of the Lannisters boys stare up at the ceiling, unseeing. Their tunics are bloodied, their skin lifeless. Rose has seen dead bodies before — the day they executed her father — but these bloated, white corpses still make her feel sick.

"Bring them in," Robb orders.

Brynden nods and opens the door. At her side, Talisa straightens up into a standing position, looking close to tears. Rose gives her what she hopes is a reassuring smile, but she's met with nothing but a single blink.

Soldiers troop in, followed by the Karstark men, Rickard at the front. He has the good sense to look disgusted by the Lannister bodies, sprawled out on the cloak-covered floor. "Is that all of them?" Robb asks. Brynden gives him another nod, and Robb looks at each man in turn, livid. "It took five of you to murder two unarmed squires?"

"Not murder, Your Grace," Rickard hisses. "Vengeance."

"Vengeance? Those boys didn't kill your sons. I saw Harrion die on the battlefield and Torrhen—"

"Was strangled by the Kingslayer. They were his kin."

"They were boys!" Robb bellows, making Rose jump. His voice bounces off the walls, the entire room shifting into unease as his face grows more murderous by the second. "Look at them," he orders, tersely.

"Tell your mother to look at them," Rickard snarls. "She killed them as much as I."

"My mother had nothing to do with this. This was your treason."

"It's treason to free your enemies," he snaps. "In war, you kill your enemies. Did your father not teach you that, boy?"

Brynden steps forward, draws his fist back and slams it into Rickard's mouth. The force of the blow sends him crashing to the ground, blood spewing from his lips, onto the stone floor. "Leave him," Robb barks. Shaking out his fist, Brynden steps back, eyes blazing.

"Aye," Rickard grunts, still on his knees. "Leave me to the King. He wants to give me a scolding before he sets me free." A hideous smile twists his face as he rises to his feet. "That's how he deals with treason, our King in the North. Or, should I call him the King Who Lost the North?"

The room falls silent.

"Escort Lord Karstark to the dungeon," Robb murmurs, darkly. "Hang the rest."

The soldiers begin to push the Karstark men towards the door. "Mercy, sire!" one of them shouts, tearfully. "I didn't kill anyone! I only watched for the guards!"

"This one was only the watcher," Robb says, stiffly. "Hang him last so he can watch the others die."

Turning on his heel, he heads back towards his desk, the futile begs of the soldiers fall on deafened ears. The doors clang shut. Robb slumps down in his chair, looking conflicted.

"Word of this can't leave Riverrun," Edmure grumbles. "They were Tywin Lannister's nephews. The Lannisters pay their debts. They never stop talking about it."

Robb looks up. "Would you make me a liar as well as a murderer?"

"It wouldn't be lying," Edmure insists. "We will bury them and remain silent until the war is done."

"Northerners mourn their dead," Rose murmurs, with a frown. "The Lannisters are entitled to the same prerogative."

Edmure tilts his head to look at her, bemused. "Has your time with them made you soft, Little Rose?"

She grits her teeth. "Quite the opposite, Uncle Edmure. But, even the most callous of monsters earn the right to grieve."

"I'm not fighting for justice if I don't serve justice to murderers in my ranks," Robb sighs, frustrated. "No matter how high-born." Looking as though he hates himself for saying it, he mutters, "He has to die."

Catelyn rises from her seat and crosses the room. "The Karstarks are Northmen," she points out. "They won't forgive the killing of their Lord."

Talisa nods. "Your mother's right. If you do this, the Karstarks will abandon you."

"You tended to their wounds," Robb says, incredulous. "You brought them supper. Now, they're dead."

Talisa steps closer to the table. "And more boys will keep dying until this war is over. You need Karstark men to end it."

"Spare his life," Catelyn pleads. "Keep him as a hostage."

"A hostage," Edmure echoes in agreement. "Tell the Karstarks that as long as they remain loyal, he will not be harmed."

Robb averts his gaze to the floor. He thinks for what feels like an age. Then, he looks across the room to his mother, somewhat apologetically.

The rain falls harder and heavier in Riverrun, batting against the Tully banners. Rickard is hauled up, onto the podium, where he stands before the block. Robb steps out from under the tent, leaving Rose's side. The resolute look on his face hasn't left since the meeting. It scares her, how enraged he is. When they were children, he was always so kind, so gentle. She's seen glimpses of that same boy since arriving in Riverrun, but her brother is no longer a boy. He's a man. A king.

The rain instantly soaks him, his curls sticking to the sides of his face as he approaches a lofty Rickard. "The blood of the First Men flows through my veins as much as yours, boy," he spits, trying to be heard over the pattering rain. "I fought the Mad King for your father. I fought Joffrey for you. We are kin — Stark and Karstark."

"That didn't stop you from betraying me. And it won't save you now."

"I don't want it to save me. I want it to haunt you to the end of your days."

Robb's jaw sets. "Kneel, My Lord."

He does so, directly in front of the block. Rose feels her heart hammering in her chest, in timing with the beat of the rainfall. When nausea swells inside her, she slips her hand into her mother's, giving it a fearful squeeze. Catelyn responds by wrapping her arm around her waist.

Robb draws his sword. "Rickard Karstark, Lord of Karhold, here in sight of gods and men, I sentence you to die. Would you speak a final word?"

"Kill me and be cursed," he bellows, his voice echoing in the courtyard. "You are no king of mine."

Without another word, Robb lifts his sword above his head and brings it down in one, clean swipe over Rickard's neck. The blood seeps over the block, then disappears in the rain. Robb turns, livid, tosses his sword onto the grass, and stalks off, clenching his fists.

Rose sucks in a breath and raps on the door. When there's no response, she hesitantly steps in, searching the room. She finds him, sitting at the fireplace, sorting through the papers on his desk. He looks up when he hears her enter. "I know you're busy."

"Actually, I was going to come and find you." Robb sets down his work and waves her over, gesturing for her to sit. Her stomach in knots, she does so, fidgeting with her hands in her lap. Robb sighs, then begins, "Today, I learned something. The more you try to control people, the more they'll pull away from you. You'll grow to hate each other and do things you regret. I don't want that to be our way."

Rose bites on her lip. "I shouldn't have hit you," she mumbles. "I'm sorry."

Robb chuckles. "If there's one person who had to slap some sense into me, I'm glad it was you." Rose finds herself grinning. "I was out of line. I'm sorry, too, if what I said hurt you." They share a long, pensive look, eyes fixated on each other. "That day you walked through those gates, got off your horse and leaped into my arms . . . for the first time in a long time, I felt at peace with myself," he confesses. "Truly, I thought that everything was going to be alright."

"I know," Rose sniffs. "I felt the same, but this war isn't over, yet. There are still so many sacrifices to be made."

"I don't want you to have to make them." Robb leans across the table and clasps her hand, his faced pained.

She smiles, giving it a gentle squeeze. "The only thing that's kept me going since we left Winterfell is the thought of us all being together again. I wake up every day and I hate myself for leaving Sansa in that dreadful place." She feels tears stinging her eyes, but she takes a deep breath to steady herself. "You're a man of your word. I'm a woman of mine. Just, please . . . let me go."

Robb hangs his head, thinking. When he releases her hand and slumps back in her seat, for a split second, she thinks he hates her. Then, he meets her gaze, the decision in his eyes. He gets up and rounds the table, then gently takes her arms and tugs her to her feet. "Father always said wolves belong in packs. But, I suppose the toughest of them can run free once in a while."

Rose bites down on her lip to stop herself from crying. Robb beams at her, and pulls her into his arms, hugging her, close to his chest. He drops a kiss on top of her head. They stay entwined that way, listening to the crackle of the fireplace, then draw apart.

Rose looks up at him, grinning. "King in the North," she whispers. "He'd be proud of you."

A surge of emotions crosses his face. He says nothing, but runs a hand over her hair, staring as though he can't bear the thought of looking away.

The next morning, the horses are prepared for riding, along with several Stark men, and a handful of Tully soldiers. Rose has braided her hair, donned her riding clothes, and shoved everything she needs into her bag. Her mother and brother are waiting next to the gates when she steps out. And a hundred or so of their soldiers, each staring at her in worry. She ignores them, pushing through, walking straight up to Robb.

He gives her a dim smile. "I have a gift for you." He holds out a small dagger, with a curved blade and the Stark sigil engraved in the hilt.

Rose takes it, admiring the steel. "Sharp," she mumbles. Robb lets out a chuckle, which she returns with a bashful grin. "Thank you."

Catelyn steps forward. Rose can tell she's been crying — her eyes are red and swollen, her skin a shade paler than usual. "It's not too late to change your mind, love," she insists. "We won't think little of you."

"I know, but I'll think little of myself."

Robb lets out a quiet breath. "You'll take the River Road," he says, in a steady voice. "My men can take you as far as Harrenhal, and then—" he looks to Catelyn, instantly wary.

"A friend of mine will meet you there," she finishes. "He'll take you to King's Landing."

Rose frowns. "Which friend?"

Robb and Catelyn exchange anxious glances, but neither of them answers. "You should go," he says, eventually. "Find a place to rest at sunset." Rose nods, not pushing the matter. He smiles at her, though his eyes are glistening with tears, and tweaks her chin before stepping aside.

Rose turns to her mother, who sucks in a trembling breath. Instantly, she fills with dread. "What is it?" Catelyn asks, reading the change in her face. Rose shakes her head and averts her gaze. Catelyn frowns, cradling her face, softly in her hands. "Sweetheart, what is it?"

Rose bites her lip when she feels the tears brimming over. "I wanted to be brave."

"You are brave," Catelyn insists, fiercely. "I know that you're frightened, and I know that you're upset, but that's alright. These past few years have been steeped in hatred and savagery, born long before you, long before your brothers and sisters."

"What if I never see you again?" Rose whimpers, her voice breaking.

Catelyn purses her lips. She closes her eyes, steeling herself, then opens them with a warm smile. "Then, live," she whispers. "Be what you've always been. A light in this blackened world. Go on adventures, be daring. Fall in love." Her hand runs over Rose's braid. "You're a Stark of Winterfell. I will always be with you, however far you go, so long as my blood runs through your veins."

Rose blinks, ferociously. "I love you."

"I love you, too." Catelyn wraps her arms around her. "My sweet girl."

They hug each other for a long time, listening to the sounds of their breathing, their beating hearts. Rose catches Robb's resolved expression over her shoulder, and that's the motivation she needs to pull away. She looks, once more, into her mother's Tully blue eyes, the eyes they share.

Then, she crosses the courtyard to her horse, mounting it, her legs trembling beneath her. I'm a Stark of Winterfell. A wolf. I will not be frightened. With a watery smile, she gives her family a small wave. Their hands finding one another, Robb and Catelyn watch as her horse pivots, then gallops out of Riverrun, it's hooves thundering across the wooden bridge.