She had jumped out of her dream that morning with a gasp of air. Robb had already gone, his fur blankets left on the floor before an extinguished fire. She was left alone to dwell on the happenings of her dreams. She had run her fingers over her swollen sex and had felt a slickness between her thighs, the same as she had felt the last few mornings. Now, though only an hour had passed, the memory was beginning to slip through her fingers like dry sand.

She sipped at her Myrish tea and closed her eyes.

She recalled a faceless man who touched her in places she would never have condoned in waking life. Or was it someone in particular? She thought it was Jon, and for a moment, it had been. But somehow, someway, she became aware that it was not Jon at all. She did not see his face, as it was buried in her neck, kissing and biting at it hungrily. 'Robb?' Her voice asked. And when he raised his head to look at her, she saw that she had been right. His vibrant blue eyes locked onto hers, unashamed. He leaned in to kiss her, and she backed away like a frightened doe. She could not say another word before it was over.

Dreams of Jon had plagued her in earlier times. Horrible dreams that left her restless in the early morning hours. But this morning was different. Unlike any other before it.

She clutched at her heart. What in seven hells is wrong with me? It was Jon- I was so sure of it.. And now Robb. The confusion of it all seemed to seep into her every thought, and even rest was becoming an unwelcome chore. Maester Luwin had began counseling her on her health after news of father reached the far ends of Winterfell. He had given her milk of the poppy to aid with her sleep, though she was sure it did not help. Perhaps that is what these dreams have come by.

She found herself longing for things that she had never really thought about before she had laid with a man. And it had seemed so long since Jon...

She had never touched herself before, and even now, as she put down her finished cup, her other hand rubbed against her sex.

Her black robe slipped from off her shoulders, and hung at her elbows. Stop. She told herself, pulling her hand away and resting it onto the table. She closed her eyes and waited for the sand to settle at the bottom of her cup. Was this how women grown felt from time to time?

The room was quiet, and she did not much care to hear her own thoughts these days. She began to sing a hymn she had known from Myr. She had not sung a single note since she had come to Winterfell she realized. She had always liked to sing, and this song was short and sweet and reminded her of the sea.

"I don't believe I've ever heard you sing."

"Oh!" Ev̱gení̱s jumped from her seat, and tightened her robe about her body. Once she finished fumbling, she turned to look at him. His shoulders were free of any furs, and though his clothes were black as jet, she knew that this was not Robb the lord.

His smile almost faded away into concern, "Forgive me. I didn't mean to frighten you."

She began to fix her hair, looking down at the floor, embarrassed. "I did not hear you come in." She could feel a heat rising in her ears and hoped that there was no blush in her cheeks. She couldn't understand her sudden bashfulness.

"I'm glad. You sing beautifully." He shrugged. In truth, she had not sung in front of anyone since she was very young when her father would ask her to sing for him on occasion. He had told her she was a nightingale, but that was long ago and she had often wondered if she had lost the talent.

She looked at him now, a small smile playing on her lips. She thought his hair and eyes seemed brighter today, but it might have just been the morning sun.

"Maester Luwin said that I need only to ask if your tea has been brought up to know if you are awake." His eyes travelled to her finished cup.

"He is a wise man." She smiled, gesturing delicately to the tea before her. Though Maester Luwin's remedy's did not seem to help, she had come to enjoy his counsel and company a great deal. "Are you well?" She asked him, remembering her courtesies.

"Yes. Very. I only thought to check on you since I had missed you while I broke fast this morning."

"Oh." She said looking down, realizing how her dreams had spoiled her schedule. She did not meet his eyes for fear that he would somehow know what she had dreamed. "I'm so sorry. I think that is the last time I shall ever drink milk of the poppy. On the morrow, I will rise with you, I swear it." She thought of Bran for a moment, and hoped that he had got on well without her.

"If Arya were still here she would have woken you. She always woke everyone up." Robb words were genuine, but Ev̱gení̱s thought she had heard a small sadness.

"Do you miss her?" She wondered, settling back into her chair and gesturing for him to do the same. They spoke most often at night and as they broke their fast, and their interactions were becoming easier as each day passed. Ev̱gení̱s found in Robb a friend on whom she could confide and thought him as pleasant a conversationalist as he was to look upon. For this at least, she was very grateful. It was rare enough to find a person of any kind who could be congenial, if they were comely too, then she thought them a splendid rarity.

She had never worried for herself and Robb's ability to get along. On that, she was always certain. It was the matter of consummation that plagued her so, and she grew concerned that all of Winterfell was beginning to wonder why she was not yet with child. Robb though, had never spoken of it. Keeping his word to let her grow to love him in her own time. She prayed that it would come soon.

He was quiet as he sat, starring at nothing in particular. "Yes. I suppose I do. And Sansa, and," He paused again, looking slowly from the floor to her eyes. And she knew that it was on her account. "...And my Father."

She smiled, which seemed to bring him relief. "It's good to miss people once in a while. It can make you forget all the times you didn't get along." Her tone was much lighter than her words she realized.

"And you, do you miss your sisters?"

"Sometimes I miss their jests. They could be so funny." She nodded and smiled a sad smile. "But in truth, we never did get along. We were so different. Despite living under the same roof. How can that be I ask you?"

He raised an eyebrow "Sansa and Arya are complete 'd never know they were sisters. They don't even look alike."

"Oh-well you could tell my sisters and I were of the same house." Her smile brightened. "We looked like nested dolls. Black of eyes and black of hair, but different enough I suppose if one took the time to look."

Robb grinned at the description. She reached for her cup and began to stir the sand within. "I should like to meet them someday if we ever travel to-" his voice trailed as he watched her pour the black sludge from her cup into her saucer.

Her eyes flickered towards him while she let the cup sit upside down. "It tastes better than it looks. Once you are used to it of course." The sand fell from her soiled finger tips as she rubbed them together.

"Why do you do that?" He asked. It suddenly occurred to her that Robb had never been there to see a finished cup. His arrival back to their chambers always came after the servants had already cleared everything away.

"The sand will form my fortune. Well- not my fortune. I cannot read my own. I drink it mostly out of habit now."

"Why can't you?" He asked curiously.

"A reader must never read their own fortune. It's terrible luck." As she explained, his arm lifted to reach for the cup.

"How does it work?" In haste, she grasped his wrist.

"You mustn't do that. If you lift the cup too soon the fortune will not dry and it may leak. If it leaks, it means I will cry." Slowly, he lowered it back onto the saucer, and she smiled at him wistfully. "I think I've had quite enough tears."

"There are so many rules. And you know them all?"

"Yes." She said pleased to admit it. "Shall I read yours?"

"Mine?" He thought on it for a moment.

"Yes. I can see bad things. And no, I will not tell you about them if you don't want me to." Her Septa had always taught her to tell all, the good and the bad. For that was the price of knowing how to read.

"How did you know that I was going to ask that?" He seemed surprised.

"Because that is the question all men ask." She teased, and he gave her a toothy grin.

"I'll have some. And you can tell me whatever you might see. Good or bad." He said confidently, moving his chair closer to her.

"You are braver than most Robb Stark. That I cannot deny you." She filled another tiny cup and held it out to him. "Now, drink it slow. You don't want to disturb the sands. It will be strong for you."

He placed his lips to his cup with calculated caution. She watched on with bated amusement as he winced and placed a closed fist to his mouth. "It is strong." He coughed.

She laughed now, unyielding. "It's always terrible the first time. It's best to drink it fast."

He smiled back at her, his eyebrows knit with distress as he starred down the rest of the small drink. It only made her smile more. When he almost finished, she took it from him and prepared it for the reading.

"Here. drink this. It will help with the lingering taste." She handed him her own wine, and as he drank it hungrily, she stared into the grinds and began to look for familiar symbols. She knew what they all meant by the time she had seen twelve name days, and yet, she always found men's cups to be so different from the lady's cups she was used to reading.

"Many long roads. There is travel in your future." She pointed to the long lines on the outside of his cup.

The grounds were dark on the inside, almost black with anxiety. That is to be expected, he has taken on many responsibilities. And we are not yet consummated... She did not dwell on their shared problems for an instant, for fear of becoming sad. "There are worries. But then, everyone has worries from time to time." There were many symbols within, but a white castle stood out above all others. "A strong character rising to promise." She raised an eyebrow, impressed by the also meant that he would gain wealth through marriage, but that was no great act of divination.

"Do many people have that?"

"No." She said honestly, "I've not seen it before. Only read about it." She smiled at him and looked to the cup again.

A turtle, "You want something to move more quickly." He only smiled and sighed, and she wished she could have read his thoughts. The mark of a question with no point on the end, "There is something on your mind, a question that will have no answer." Many people, "You will be surrounded by many." A crown, "No doubt you will leave a great legacy." An all seeing eye, "All eyes will be on you."

She placed it down and said a quick Valyrian prayer, "This is a splendid cup. We must be sure that its omens follow you."

"Thank yo-" He almost said.

"No!" She almost yelled and it made him jump. It was then that they both realized that her fingers were pressed against his lips. They were a great deal warmer than her cold taut fingertips, and the flesh was smooth and dry. They met eyes, and awkwardly, she took them away. "You must never thank the reader. It spoils the outcome of the reading."

He was conflicted she knew, as many were by the rule. "Then what can I do to give my thanks?"

She smiled and moved her own cup out of the way. "You may smile and nod in thanks, but you must never speak the words." Her impeccable explanation gave way to a better idea. One that she could not believe that she had not thought of before. "On second thought, you can thank me another way." She reached for her own cup and placed it in his hands. "Look inside and tell me what you see."

His eyebrows raised, "But I don't know how-"

"You don't need to know anything at all. You only need to tell me what symbols you see. I will interpret them myself." She was so pleased with herself that she could not wipe the smile from her face. For the first time in weeks she would get a reading. It would be a broken one, like a secret passed through too many lips, but it would have to do.

"I can try."

"Oh please do." She placed her hands over his own. The cup in the centre. "I would be so grateful." It was a nasty trick, for she knew it a terribly flirtatious act. Yet, she was not ashamed. As Robb looked to her, his nerves melted away and she watched his mouth move into a smile to one side of his face. She rubbed her hands away and stood up, unsure if there was a noticeable blush in her cheeks.

She paced around him, floating about anxiously. "I see a feather, I suppose." Mixed feelings. How appropriate! "Oh, there's a horse!" He seemed excited, but before she could praise him, she needed to hear more.

"Is it near the top of the cup?"

"Yes."

She nodded, "News rides. Though there's no knowing if it is good or bad..." She told him, sure of herself. "Is that all?"

"I might see a...harp?" She stopped where she stood and knew that he was waiting to hear what it meant. Dare I say it Robb Stark? The symbol had always meant the same, it had never changed like so many others had over the years. Harmony in love. Her quietness did not concern her as much as her own pleasure...

"A very good symbol." She decided to say. Instead of telling him the truth of it, she thought of something better.

She leaned over his shoulder from behind and placed her hands on the sides of his arms, squeezing lightly. "Perfect." She whispered, just beyond his ear. He turned to face her, almost speechless, whilst she reached for her cup and pulled it from his hands. They might have had a moment, had she not risen as quickly as she'd came down. His forlorn eyes were hungry for affection, and he was terrible at hiding it. Whenever she drew close, or touched him she saw the youth that he was through his eagerness.

"You can't know what that meant to me. I feel invigorated." It was no exaggeration. She was amazed by how alive she'd felt. Realizing that dwelling on the dead and gone had made her so terribly melancholy.

"I'm so pleased. I hope you are growing to like it here." He said, turning his body towards her.

"Oh I am. Truly." It was not a lie this time, like it had been so often before.

He did not answer, but his smile seemed more than enough to assure his content. "I'd wanted to do this earlier, but there never seemed to be a right time." He began, igniting her interest. "You might have heard that Bran's saddle has been finished..."

She laughed under her breath, and sat back down. Robb's eyes following her all the while. "How could I not? He speaks of nothing else."

Robb licked his lips, "Well, I had promised him that tomorrow, he and I would go riding in the wood. You know it I believe, the one where we had gone to hunt?"

She averted her eyes, looking to the ground. "Yes, I think so." How could I forget? It was the same wood she had been lost in with Jon. Only they'd not been so lost as they appeared. She swatted the hair out of her face like it might throw the history of the place away right along with it.

He leaned forward, his elbows resting against his knees and his fingers laced together. "And I was rather hoping you might come with us to ride." It surprised her how happy she was to receive the invitation. She had not been outside in a great while simply for outdoors sake. Much of her excursions included Robb's lordly work, visiting holdfasts and maintaining crop sums.

"I can teach you how to ride in the Westerosi fashion." He added quickly, catching her quite off guard. This was a different sort of request.

She looked at him with bewilderment in her eyes. "Oh. You mean, one leg on each side?" She did not disguise her difficulty with the thing. How vulgar.

"If you'd like to learn. Yes." She thought she heard a hint of nerves in his voice. "I could show you more of Winterfell, more of the land." His tone was genuine, and it softened her disposition. She did feel rather foolish whilst the northern folk watched in strange amusement as she rode to one side.

She took in a deep breath and folded her hands in her lap."Yes of course. That sounds lovely. Perhaps it's best that I learn, I should like to look more like a Northern Lady. Oft I feel so out of my element here. So foreign."

"You're no foreigner." He corrected her, standing. "You're my wife." Is his kindness never ending? She bit her lip and smiled like a fool for a moment before she caught herself.

"Will there be a visiting lord tonight?" There was a curiosity in her voice that could not be disguised.

"No. Not tonight. It will be an evening of rest."

"Shall I join you to dine then?" She asked before she had a chance to think on it. But she found that for the first time in a long while, she had an appetite.

"For supper?" He asked with a mix of surprise and pleasure. His eagerness began to show again when he did not wait for her to answer. The fact was that she had not ever really shared supper with him. Not since she had been in mourning. She would take it in her chambers, or with Bran on some rare occasions. The only exception was when there was some visiting lord. And those suppers had always been steeped in duty and mindless banter on her part. Robb would spend more of the meal speaking to the lord attending to business and matters of coin. She would retire early after, not eating a bite. "Yes of course. Is there anything you need before I go? I'd stay only there are so many matters-" He was speaking more quickly, and it amused her.

She held up her hand to silence him, "If you could send for one of my ladies. I should like to dress for supper. I feel so," She thought on her dream once more, "out of sorts today." She settled on the term, averting her eyes.

He searched her with his eyes, and she watched as he gained the nerve to say something, "I find you very lovely."

She sat up straighter, "You can't mean that. Not when I'm in black." She threw the compliment back sheepishly. She could feel herself being bashful, but somehow she felt powerless to stop it.

The tables had turned in an instant, as she played the one being teased. "I do mean it." He said confidently. She only smiled while he made his way out the door. Before he disappeared behind it, he leaned in once more, his fingers strumming the wood. "I hope this means that you are starting to feel well."

She waited a moment to speak, weighing her answer carefully. For a moment, she thought she would weep from habit but when it did not come, she thought herself dried out of tears.

Her mind almost thought of Father. Then, it almost thought of Jon. But finally, to her own surprise, it stopped all together. And for once, she chose not to think on either of them.

"I am feeling different today." She admitted, with a last smile. And if you knew why Robb Stark, you'd be the one all in a blush.

Hi all,

It has been a long time I know. Just bare with me, this story takes a lot of time. As I'm sure you can already tell, it's going to be a long one. But when it comes to ASoIaF is there really any other way?

Couldn't decide whether or not to make this one a 16 page chapter or cut it down to 8 pages. I managed to cut it in half and make two different chaters with my 16 pages. The next chapter will likely be Ev again, and I am still working away on it.

Please rate and review. I love to hear from you!

Cheers,

-Prosati