Author's note: Yes I know. Who am I? Where an earth have I been? I won't even grace you with excuses, only that I apologise for the immense delay.
So a slight admission - I am not 100% happy with some of the plot direction at the start of this story and if I could, I would go back and tweak how I started this story (namely the choosing of the sisters). But it was a LONG time ago and I am going to put more energy into finishing this story instead of creating more work for myself! This story has developed throughout the years and while I apologise at how slow I have been, I am determined to finish it. My writing is by no means perfect and I am certainly not going to be the next great novelist but I hope it is enjoyable for some out there. This site has helped me through a lot of my younger, darker years and still holds a place in my heart.
This chapter is slightly different to the previous chapters - I thought I'd try something out. Let's see how it goes. Disclosure with regards to the white walkers/wildlings etc. - I never intended for them to play any huge part in this story, the white walkers have not been defeated yet and Winter is Still coming. How it intertwines into this story has been adapted slightly - timelines/events/characters. I apologise if anyone is annoyed by these changes, but as stated, I never intended for the wildlings/white walkers to have a massive part in this story but I do appreciate their place in the Game of Thrones fandom.
Thank you as always to everyone. I wish you all happiness during these pretty difficult times.
Rest in Peace HRH The Queen
Chapter Thirty
Robb I
Robb Stark left his mother with a grim expression and heavy heart. While he wanted to do nothing more than ignore her words, he could not help but mull them over and over in his head as he marched back to his tent across the way, to the point where they became a somewhat mantra to the Young Wolf.
"A debt to Walder Frey."
What would his father had said if he was here? Would he had agreed with him mother? Would he have told Robb to follow his head and not his heart?
But Eddard Stark was dead.
There was a hole deep in Robb's heart due to the death of his father. A weight that he carried around with him like a heavy armour. He had wept until there was no more tears to cry, he had screamed until his throat was raw. Gods, he would do anything to have his father back with him, to hear his reassuring words and feel safe once more.
Now his family was scattered across the Realm - a divided pack. His sisters down in the South, his brothers back in the North, his half-brother at the Wall. It shouldn't be like this. The pack shouldn't be parted like this. They should be together again. Robb needed them to be together again.
His heart ached more with every step, his mother's words weighing heavy against his chest and his father's face in the back of his mind.
What would Eddard Stark do?
Robb thought of the woman he had waiting for him, the beautiful and exotic Talisa Maegyr. He had laid with women before but this had been different. This wasn't mere lust, like his mother had told him. He was not naïve, like his mother assumed, he was not just a lustful boy. Robb loved her, truly.
Truly?
When he re-entered his tent and bestowed eyes upon the object of his thoughts, something faltered in his chest. Love perhaps? With his mother's voice echoing in his head, Robb Stark finally hesitated.
"Your grace." Talisa rose from her seat in his chair, a secret smile upon her beautiful lips. Robb stared at her a moment, studying her features and replaying the moment they had shared together in this very tent. "I hope the conversation with your mother was," A pause and a playful glint in her eyes. "Enlightening."
The longer Robb stared at her, his mother's words ringing true in his mind, the louder the sound of his men outside the tent grew. The men outside who had sworn to follow him into battle, who pledged their swords to a man they thought was honourable and worthy - a man they believed to be similar to their last lord, Eddard Stark. Now, standing in that tent with his men's laughter outside and the eyes of a beautiful woman staring back at him, Robb Stark thought of his father once more.
What would Eddard Stark do?
As if sensing the inner turmoil, Talisa's smile fell from her lips. Robb almost wanted to go to her then, to stroke her flawless skin and bring out the sounds he had heard her make not long ago. Instead though, Robb held himself back and hardened his expression.
He knew what needed to be done.
"I'm sorry, my lady." Robb began, careful and calmly. Immediately, fire burned in the Volantis woman's eyes and Robb almost hesitated again. Talisa knew what was coming next, shaking her head as he continued to speak. "This was a mistake. I am pledged to another-"
"A woman you do not want to marry!" Talisa hissed then, stepping forward. "You told me yourself, your grace, before you had your way with me here in this very tent." Robb's gaze did not waver, her words biting.
"I dishonoured you, Lady Talisa, and I dishonoured my wife-to-be." Robb stepped towards the woman then, staring down at her with a marbled expression. "I do not intend to dishonour my wife again."
"One conversation with your mother and you forget everything that we spoke about, everything that has happened between us? You told me that you did not want to marry the Frey woman."
"I made a vow, my lady."
Like the final nail in wood, Talisa scoffed, shaking her head with glistening eyes. Quickly, the woman gathered her things without meeting the King's eyes and Robb watched her silently as she did, controlling himself and repeating his mother's words over and over. His fists clenched tightly behind his back, painfully almost. But Robb kept his self true and did not quiver when Talisa made to leave - no matter how much he wanted to grab her and pull her to him, to apologise for his harsh words.
She did pause, however, when she got to his side and finally turned her pretty gaze to him once more.
"My mother told me that you men of Westeros were nothing but hairy barbarians, incapable of warmth. When I met you, I thought you were different." A scoff, one that made Robb turn his gaze away. "But you are just like the rest of them, only prettier than the rest. I hope you enjoy your lovely wife, your grace. I'm sure she will be beside herself with excitement that she is to marry such a gracious and honourable King."
And with those final bitter words, she fled his tent and Robb was left with nothing but her echoing words. He was not alone for long though, a long nose nudging at his hand and a gentle but familiar whine was like a blessing to Robb and he turned to bestow his direwolf a tight smile.
"I hope I've made the right decision, my boy." He muttered, taking fistfuls of Grey Wind's fur and pressing his face into it. He would tell his mother in the morning, Robb just wanted a moment's peace right now.
Robb was glad to be leaving the South.
His time had been thankfully brief there, and the awkward moments with the new King in the South were ones he did not want repeating - just King Stannis' wife's suggestion that Robb marry their daughter, Shireen, and unite the Kingdoms made Robb be glad for the first time that he was betrothed to another - Shireen was only a young girl! The Red Woman's eyes had never left Robb as he and King Stannis addressed one another as begrudging equal rulers, laying out the terms of their arrangement. There was something dark in the priestess' gaze and Robb did not want to linger too long, heeding to his mother's concerns about remaining in the woman's company. She could cast all sorts of magic. Robb certainly would not forget the wartime rumours of sacrifices, demons and black magic that many whispers claimed secured King Stannis his throne. As Robb and his men left Kings Landing, there seemed some unsettlement in the air of the small folk and Robb had no doubt that the Red Woman and the tales were a large part of it. He and his Great Uncle had shared a knowing look after hearing some whispers and Blackfish had commented bitterly that he expected an uprising of the smallfolk before they made it back to the North. Robb had said nothing in return - his concern were his people, not the South- though he knew his Uncle's words were likely true.
King Stannis had seemed bitter about giving up the North, not unsurprisingly, but the Red Woman had argued to Robb's favour, which was equally surprising. Robb half wondered if it was the woman's favour that halted any further fight to breakout, Stannis wanting the full Realm. After lengthy discussions, the Kingdoms would remain divided and Robb and his men could return home.The Lannisters had been defeated - Stannis had declared.
Unfortunately, not all of them.
After his Aunt Lysa had gotten word to his mother that Sansa was at the Eyrie, Robb thought they would collect Sansa on their way home. Much to Robb's and his mother's surprise though, Sansa found her way back South. Back to the South and back to her Lion husband.
She kept very vague about her time in the Vale and stating absently that their Aunt was not what she expected. Robb had heard of Lord Baelish's marriage to their Aunt but Sansa said nothing with regards to the man or how he had helped her escape Kings Landing - Robb wouldn't push her for information, but there was a somewhat haunted look in her eyes.
When Robb greeted his lovely sister, Sansa, once more he had to stop himself from driving his sword into the man beside her. Tyrion Lannister's gaze was unwavering and cutting - uncomfortably knowing - but Robb was grateful he said nothing. Robb said nothing further when Sansa declared she would stay in the South and remain in Casterly Rock with Tyrion - her husband. It is the right thing to do - he is still my husband, after all. Robb heard his mother's arguments but Sansa seemed certain with her decision and Robb was tired.
So very tired.
"I will come and visit though." Sansa had urged. "When are you to marry, brother, I would love to attend!"
Ah yes, the marriage he had been dreading. Robb had said nothing much to reply to his sister, merely smiled and allowed his mother to protest some more. In the end, Sansa could not attend the wedding but it was decided that she would visit on his next name-day.
And just like that, Robb and the Northern forces were riding back home again, his sister staying in the South along with part of Robb's heart, another weight against his armour. He had started a war to bring his sisters home safely and here he was, leaving one behind in the Lion's Den. His mother's arguments were ones he shared but something had stopped him when he saw Sansa's face. She was different than the little girl who left for King's Landing with their father all those years ago. She was a woman now. One Robb could scarcely recognise.
Robb was different too though. He was tired and homesick and heartbroken and hardened to the world. He had seen death and found love and lost so much that it had made him numb. He had won the war but had lost far too much that he scarcely remembered the last time he truly smiled. He just wanted to go home. He just wanted things to go back to how they used to be.
He had seen enough death and sorrow.
Learning of Arya's and Rickon's safety had almost made Robb weep.
It was Greatjon who had broken the news about Rickon - one of his men from Umber's Keep writing to him to inform him that Rickon had been found safely and was under their protection. Robb had held the big man so tight that he swore Lord Umber flinched. But the great man just laughed - like he had done when Greg Wind took his fingers. Immediately, Robb knew he wanted to keep his big friend around.
Arya's arrival back to them was with much less fanfare. Robb's mother's knight, Lady Brienne, has arrived in the camp one day with Arya in tow and straight into their mother's arms. Robb could see his sister trying to feign disinterest with the affection but he caught the tears in her eyes and didn't comment when she came to greet him and how hard held him. He was glad to have her home.
Bran however was another story. Jon informed him that Bran had been spotted over the Wall by a fellow member of the Night's Watch, with a young boy and girl and Hodor in tow. Summer, Bran's direwolf also accompanied them. It was Osha, the wildling, who informed them that Bran had been having "visions" of a three-eyed raven that seemed to call to Bran, urging him to go somewhere. Unfortunately that somewhere was beyond the Wall and Osha had only parted from his brother to keep Rickon safe. He was thankful of the woman for this, glad that he didn't have to lose both of his brothers all at once.
His mother had wanted to march over the Wall and look for Bran, not wanting to heed to warnings of white walkers, dismissing them in the bid to find her son. Robb agreed with her, wondering if he could banish his duties as King and lead a party over the Wall. It was a childish thought, one that made his mother stop her demands when he told her he would go in her place to find Bran. Eventually, the trust fell upon Jon to find their brother and unfortunately so far, there had been no trace of Bran Stark to be seen.
Robb was not prepared the next time he saw Talisa Maegyr - not long before his wedding to his new bride. He had every intention of keeping his last words to her but after a lot of wine and distant meaningful looks across the Hall of Riverrun, Robb shamelessly found himself in Talisa's bed once more.
This time, it was different to before. Last time, Robb found himself believing in love and wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life with this beautiful, exotic woman. This time though, there was no mistaking this entanglement as anything but lust as he collapsed beside her, panting deeply.
Neither of them spoke for a long time, no loving caresses or secret laughs like before. As the sounds of laughter in the Hall faded and the noise in the corridors lessoned, Robb rose from the bed and began to dress.
"You are to meet her soon, aren't you." It was Talisa who broke the silence. Not really a question, more a statement. Robb did not look back at her as he pulled the tunic over his head and secured his dress cloak.
"I am." He gritted out before striding to the door. Behind him, he didn't hear any movement as Talisa made no attempt to follow or stop him. Before Robb took his exit, he paused, his heart suddenly heavy. "This won't happen again, my lady." Talisa let out a humourless laugh.
"That's what you said to me the last time."
And with those final words, Robb took his leave. As he made his way back to his chambers, he could almost feel the disapproval of his father's weighing down upon him and Robb felt nothing but shame for what he had done.
He vowed to himself then that he truly would be honourable to his wife and this would never again happen. He could not be like every other distasteful Lord who married and fucked women on the side. He was Edward Stark's son and he would be better, he has to be better.
However, once in his bed chambers, Robb Stark could not help but think of his bastard brother, Jon Snow. Perhaps then his father was not anymore honourable than the rest of them, after all?
He went to sleep that night with Talisa's beautiful face in his head, the sound of her lovely voice drifting him to slumber, drowning out the rest of the hum.
"I don't want to choose between them like this, Mother." Robb urged as he stood in his appointed bed chambers at the Twins, dressed ready for the Evening's feast with his mother staring back at him with a stern expression.
"You made a vow to Walder Frey-" At that, Robb let out a humourless laugh.
"Have I not kept my vow? Am I not here with the intention of marrying one of his daughters? Have I not discarded the woman I love for a god damn bridge!?" Robb demanded in return, downing his wine with an angry flourish before pouring another. He ignored the piercing gaze of his mother that bored into the side of his face. "What I'm saying is, is that I do not want to choose between them by sight tonight. Gods forbid I choose the one most like her father." He downed the next goblet before turning to his mother, taking in her careful expression. "I want to ask Lord Frey to extend my time here, so I can get to know them all and make a decision then." A pause. "I don't want to be drawn in by the prettiest face."
Robb then thought of the daughter he had met in the corridor while he was being escorted to his chambers. One of the daughters - Lady Miriella, was it? She has been plain looking - dark hair like the rest of them, face ordinary, and normally, his gaze would have passed over a woman like Lady Miriella - his head certainly hadn't turned like it had with Talisa - but there was something that has drawn him to her. Something in her gaze. He couldn't quite figure out what it was and he stood there a moment, mulling over her brief words to him, her ignorance to his title and the kindness in her tone as she spoke of her sister to the servant girl. How she had disregarded herself in the choosing, assuming he wouldn't pick her.
The pleasanter qualities of her sisters, she had said but there was a strangeness to her tone. One that had made Robb ponder and had made him rethink his decision that evening. It was these words that had stuck in his head and had made him decide to stay longer, to get to know the sisters and not be drawn in by the "pleasanter qualities".
He wondered absently what she would think when she realised she had been speaking to the King all along. Robb Stark was not a dim man - though many in the South and North alike would disagree. He knew he was a handsome and desirable man - and that was even before he became King. He thought of women he had encountered on his way down the Realm, how many had swooned upon sight of him, how many eye lashes had fluttered and sweet smiles sent his way. Talisa had been the exception, for she hadn't seemed to like him very much upon first greeting and perhaps that was what drew Robb to her. The challenge?
Lady Miriella had not swooned or battered her eye lashes either. Yet, she did not know she had been speaking to the King.
When Robb met her gaze across the Hall in the Twins later that evening, there was no swooning or fluttering. The gaze that stared back had matched his own and had been unwavering. After bestowing eyes now upon the rest of her sisters, Lady Miriella was by no means the ugliest but there were fairer than her - Lady Miah, Robb believed was her fair sister's name. If Robb hadn't have greeted Lady Miriella in the corridor by chance, if she hadn't have spoken those words to him, then Robb had no doubt that Lady Miah would have been the Frey bride he would have chosen.
Absently, he sipped his wine and glanced amongst the sisters, noting the bashful look that the beautiful Frey daughter was giving him now, reminding Robb so much like the adoring girls he had come across his whole life. It only affirmed Robb's decision to take longer to choose his bride, to get to know his potential intended.
For something was telling him that leading with his heart, may not have been the wisest decision for him.
Robb had almost made his choice within the first week at the Twins and was infinitely glad of his decision to hesitate before choosing his new wife based on looks.
Miah, while more beautiful than he expected to find amongst the Freys, Robb found quickly that this beauty was only skin-deep. She may had been someone who turned his head, like Talisa had done, but she held none of Talisa's care and Robb realised quite soon that she was someone he struggled to spend an afternoon with, let alone his remaining days. She was cruel to servants, demeaning of her sisters, cousins and other ladies at the Twins. She played the role of swooning maiden quite well, to the point where Robb had to keep himself from rolling his eyes at her remarks. She certainly was not an option, Robb learnt quickly.
The twin sisters, while less cruel than their fairer sister, seemed to be duller imitations and even if Robb could tell them apart by looks, he found no warmth in their interactions. Neither were options either.
Waldra was not pretty but she was good company. Her first words to him were: "I have not intention of marrying you, Robb Stark, and you do not intent to marry me either." It had almost broken the hardened exterior that Robb had found himself creating and while she was right, they would not wed, he was curious by her conversation and continued to meet with her anyway, even just to have a retreat from some of her more demanding sisters.
Roslyn was afraid of him at first, that much was obvious. It may have been quite endearing to his mother, who had a soft spot for her, but Robb found it lacking. He was growing colder in himself, he knew as much. While previously, prior to the war, he would have relished conversation with so many women. He was confident with them, knew how to talk to them and how to make them swoon. Roslyn, he knew, would be just like the rest and while he agreed with his mother that she was fine to look at, there was just something missing in their interactions also. Sometimes they would walk in silence and while Robb would have rather not have to endure this whole ordeal, he needed something to distract the raging pain in his head. The pain he was keeping at bay with marbled expressions and careful words.
His mother was not keen for him to rule Roslyn out so quickly - give the girl time - though Robb was uncertain if she would be the one he would ultimately decide on. He knew not to rule her out though, not when his prospects were already dim given her sisters.
Shirei was a definite no, even before he spent time with the girl. She was just a girl after all, younger than Rickon. She was a sweet girl, one who was also shy but in a less frustrating sort of way. Shirei sent him bashful, child-like smiles and picked him flowers from the riverside, barely saying many words when she gave them to him and running away in a fluster of skirts and her handmaiden's scolds which almost brought a chuckle to his lips. The flowers she gave him sat in a jug in his chambers and at night, he stared upon them and it almost dulled the numbness of his heart. Shirei was a lovely girl, one that made him ache for his own siblings but his interactions with her also aided in his decision. What was obvious, was her love for her sisters - namely one.
Miriella was a somewhat enigma to Robb, one who had been almost dismissed by his mother for her other sisters but one who he continued to be drawn to.
When Robb first saw Lady Miriella in men's tunics and breeches, he hardly battered an eye. After all, he had spent his life growing up with Arya as a sister and had fought alongside many warrior women that the sight of a woman in such clothing was hardly shocking for him. Their brief interactions were strange to him and unlike some of her sisters, she did not seem to want to be in his company. Not similar to Waldra though, who clearly detested the idea of marrying him, with Miriella there was a hesitation in her decision. Her first words to him ringing in his head, Robb wondered if her hesitation grew mainly because she assumed she would not be chosen. Perhaps she was merely protecting herself, her heart. Something, Robb had much experience in.
What was undeniable though was her bond with her youngest sister, Shirei. Robb found that he learnt more from the younger Frey girl about her sister than his own interactions from her. His conversations with the Shirei were insightful and left him pondering.
Ultimately his decision between the daughters became unfortunately quite diplomatic. It was a decision he, shame to say, discussed with his mother one evening after the evening meal. His mother had provided a thoughtful list of things that he should look out for when choosing between them. It was an exercise that sickened Robb to his stomach - almost like he was devising a wartime strategy and not choosing between women for his wife. It was a decision he did not want to make though, his mother sensing it and pushing him gently through it.
"They need to be caring, Robb. Not just as a wife or mother but as a Queen as well. Respectful of others. Capable of being maternal. Able to question you if needed." At that, Robb raised an eyebrow. "You may be King but you may not always be right, Robb. It is good to have a wife who can question your decisions sometime."
"Like you and Father." A small smile turned his mother's lips then and she nodded.
"Aye, just like that." She agreed softly before she continued to list further things that were favourable in his potential bride and Queen to be. "Do any of the daughters meet these expectations?"
Robb thought only of one daughter then and not the daughter that his mother wanted him to choose.
He thought of all that had occurred at the Twins. He thought of the many interactions with the daughters, the Ball in his honour, the knight who Grey Wind attacked, the unintended marriage between Shirei and a noble boy that wasn't Rickon Stark, the conversation between himself and Shirei's favourite sister in her bed chambers and her words to him then.
"Aye, your grace. I think I would be happy as your wife."
Robb was under no illusion that Miriella loved him - or even liked him for that matter. For he wasn't sure he felt either towards her. His time at the Twins had been spent with a diplomatic mind, one observing and deciding on what was best for the North - and quite frankly, which of the daughters he would prefer to endure a marriage with if he could not be with Talisa.
Miriella had been honest with him, shown kindness to others but had strength and defiance. Their interactions had not felt forced or uncomfortable and Robb had not wanted to run from her company like he had with many of her sisters. He did not think of love or attraction when he thought of her though, only an ease to the situation and someone he thought would make the best out of the sisters as Queen in the North.
Perhaps he would never love her, perhaps he would spend his days thinking of the lover he left behind and resent the Frey woman. Perhaps she would grow to resent him too and it would be a bitter marriage. Or perhaps the Gods would be merciful and the match would be a good on. Perhaps even love could blossom from it.
Standing next to her, saying the words of the Seven and becoming husband and wife, Robb Stark felt nothing but bitterness in his heart and wished for nothing but the eyes staring back at him to belong to someone else.
"You need to start acting like a better husband." His mother had hissed at him the night before he left for the Wall. Robb merely observed her coolly, ignoring her words, which only seemed to make her expression harden. "Robb-"
"I don't love her." He muttered simply, shrugging. "I may never love her."
"Don't be so naïve, boy." It was his Great Uncle that spoke then, Blackfish shaking his head at Robb with an uncaring expression. If it had been anyone but his Uncle Brynden, Robb would have bristled at the term "boy".
"And why am I so naïve , Uncle?" Robb asked, tilting his head and he observed the other man. Blackfish just scoffed.
"You think you're the only man to have his marriage arranged for him? You think you're the only man who doesn't love his wife?" He countered, smartly, before leaning forward. "You are the King, not some pathetic Lord like your Uncle Edmure. You are acting like some girlish maiden all this talk of love! You chose the girl. You did that. Not many have such an opportunity to have any say in it all, so count yourself lucky. You think all husbands and wives love each other?" Robb's eyes fell to his mother then.
"I did not love your father at first, you know this. We grew to love one another and that is the strongest of loves." Not like the love he and Talisa had, went unspoken and Robb felt himself harden at the words. "Miriella is a nice girl. A kind girl. She would make a good wife - if you let her."
Robb knew this. He knew Miriella was a good person and he was glad of his decision in choosing her between her and her sisters. But Robb had changed over the course of the war, he was tired and he was weary and he had lost so much. His father, his brothers, his sisters, so many good men who fought for him. His life had completely changed and it had been a long time since Robb had truly found happiness - not like he had felt before King Robert made his father Hand of the King.
Meeting Talisa had been a ray of goodness in the otherwise darkening world around Robb. When he saw her across the field of wounded, something inside him churned and for the brief moments during their encountered, Robb saw a life - a proper life - and he wanted nothing more than to live it with her. Her last bitter words to him replayed over and over in his head and he hated himself for the hurt he had caused her. He had loved her, truly loved her no matter what his mother said. And he had lost her. And every night as he lay beside his new wife, he wondered if it had all been worth it.
Though Robb was not naïve to think that the Frey forces hadn't contributed massively to the Northern cause, that they hadn't helped Robb take Casterly Rock and gain a huge advantage on the Lannisters. He recalled snippets of the battle of Kings Landing and there had been more times that he could count that a Frey man had fought beside him, one or two times saving his life. It was an undeniable debt which had been repaid with Miriella Frey.
A woman who Robb was too stubborn to try and love because he had become bitter and hardened in his years. She hadn't done anything wrong but still Robb felt numb towards her. He did not want to love her. He didn't want her to be here in Winterfell, feasting with his family and sharing his bed. He saw her interact with Arya and Rickon, a coldness overcoming him as he watched Arya smirk or heard Rickon laugh at something the woman said - neither an easy task, Robb knew. He would watch her interact with people around Winterfell, with his mother, the councilmen and found nothing but warmth and a welcoming smile. She was good and Robb wanted to hate her with every single part of him.
But he couldn't.
When he left for the Wall, it felt like he could breath for a time. He had his Great Uncle by his side and Grey Wind leading the way and he was going to see his brother, Jon. And while he knew there was a task before him with the wildlings would not be easy, Robb was glad for the respite. Glad for the freedom from his wife for a time.
It was Jon who urged him to write to his wife, a passing suggestion when Robb and his men arrived at Castle Black. It was so good to see Jon again, to see his little brother standing tall and proud. So long, Robb had seen a sadness in his brother's gaze and wanted nothing more than him to find his purpose. He never expected Jon's purpose to be of the Night's Watch but it was a role that suited him and Robb was happy if he was.
The pair held each other long and hard when they met once more, Ghost and Grey Wind playfully nipping at each other in Castle Black's courtyard. Men around them greeted one another too but Robb only wanted the warmth of his brother in that moment, glad to see him once again after so many long terrible years.
"I told you black was always my colour." Jon muttered, smiling warmly when Robb chuckled. "Come on, it's been a long ride for you and your men. There are some rooms ready for you." He gestured then to a round man with a kind face and beckoned him forward. "Robb, this is my friend, Samwell Tarly." The other man scuttled forward, almost tripping over in the snow with the enthusiasm. Robb liked him immediately, he seemed kind and a good man and just the right person to befriend his brother. Robb briefly thought of the letters he had received from Jon over the years, Samwell's name a frequent mention.
"Your grace." Samwell bowed his head politely. "Jon has told me so much about you, I'm glad to finally meet." Robb grinned, holding out his hand for the man to shake.
"And I you, Samwell Tarly."
"Sam is fine, no need for such formalities." The man waved nervously, bashfully smiling and Robb nodded.
"Then I am just Robb, formalities disregarded." Looking to his brother, Jon seemed pleased with the interaction.
"I'll take you to your room, brother. Once you're ready, Sam will be able to take any letters you may have and get them sent for you to Winterfell. Our ravens are all rested and fed ready for the journey." Robb turned a questioning eyebrow to Jon and frowned when he and Sam shared a look. "I suspect you'll want to write back to Winterfell, to tell your wife that you have arrived safely." Upon his brother's words, Robb felt his throat clench and he forced a smile. While Jon seemed unconvinced by Robb's expression, he continued nonetheless. "You can tell me all about her over food and ale - your letters have been lacking in that regard and I'd like to know all about my new good sister."
Upon entering his chambers for the duration of his stay, Robb pointedly ignored the parchment and writing quill that had been set aside for him, choosing instead to clean up and head back to find his brother and eat. He would worry later about writing to his wife.
Robb was pleased to see plenty of men around the castle, and was informed by Jon that the other Keeps were the same. The War had provided ample recruits to the Night's Watch at least - most Lannister soldiers happy to accept the Black when they surrendered. Soldiers that were at least nothing like their noble lords and were simply following orders - hopefully doing the same under Jon's command now on the Wall. And it wasn't just those in the South he saw as he was led to his chambers.
Jon's history with the wildlings had been a complicated one, he was told. Robb had heard snippets from his brother - that he had been taken hostage and went undercover in their ranks to gain their trust and learn of their intentions. He had managed to escape back to Castle Black, sending a raven to Robb to inform him of the pending attack from the wildlings which Robb had responded to immediately.
He had sent Lord Umber and Lady Mormont with a strong force of men to aid his brother in the fight and the wildlings along with their leader, Mance Rayder, had been defeated. Some were taken hostage and somehow - Robb was not privy to the details but assumed it had something to do with his time with them, Jon managed to convince the Mance to rally the wildlings together. Jon assured them that he would speak to Robb to give them safe passage beyond the Wall - the reason, Robb had made the journey now.
The rumours of white walkers terrified Robb dearly, recalling tales from Maester Luwin and Old Nan when he was younger - tales to bring fear to a young boy. He almost did not believe them, had the tales not come from his own brother and the assurances from Jon that the eye witness accounts had been true and reliable.
Jon had vouched for the wilding people - Robb was unclear why he did, given they had attacked Castle Black - but now as he roamed the halls and saw Night's Watch and wildlings walking the Castle with one another (albeit somewhat tensely he noticed occasionally and there was still some clear separation), he knew somehow his brother had made it work.
His brother was found quite quickly, seated beside a large red-haired man with a devilish grin, another older man with long black hair in matching wildling furs as his fire-kissed friend and their Great Uncle, Blackfish.
Upon his entry into the Hall, there was the scraping of chairs as the Night's Watch men stood to their feet in respect to Robb's presence. Robb forced a thin smile, nodding absently at some of the faces staring back at him before looking to Jon. He was grateful that his brother urged his men to sit, glad for the attention to be drawn back to the food as Robb made his way to his brother.
Both of the wildlings in his brother's company stood, Robb noted then, despite the other wildling folk remaining seated - Robb had expected them to follow their comrades and was therefore surprised when the wildling leader remained standing until he reached them.
"Well, there's no mistaking you're the Lord Crow's brother! You're just as pretty as him, aren't you!" Were the first words the red-haired giant exclaimed, a somewhat crazed look in his eyes and the smile beneath his wild beard growing larger. There was a slight accent, Robb noted, one he had not heard before. Blackfish let out a loud laugh before pointing at the wildling man.
"For a wildling, this one is alright, Robb." Robb smiled as well, offering his hand to the wildling man and not surprised by the hard shake he received in return. He turned then to his companion.
"This is my second, Tormund Giantsbane." The older wilding explained, offering his hand to Robb next to take. Robb did. "I am Mance Rayder." At that, Robb nodded, though he had already assumed as much. In comparison to his red-haired friend, Mance was well-spoken with a strangely familiar but unfamiliar accent - he had no doubt picked up the twang from his companions over the years. "Shall we begin?"
Robb was grateful for the lack of pleasantries, growing tired of forced niceness during his time in the South and was glad that they got straight to order of business. He was a busy man after all and knew he did not need to act so polite and Kingly in the presence of kin - and wildlings.
Jon informed Robb and Blackfish that he had sent some patrols to look for Bran but with rumours of white walker appearances growing closer, patrols were less and less frequent as the Wall prepared defences. The defences were looking strong though, Jon had informed them. With the huge intake of recruitment after the War and the wildlings, the Wall was the most manned it had been in centuries. Prior to the War, only three of all the keeps could be manned. Now with the rise in recruitment, all of the Keeps housed some men - a considerable improvement - and one that relaxed Robb slightly. He expected nothing less after all with Jon Snow's command.
"Do you need anymore men?" Robb asked carefully. "You need not fight this alone, brother."
"Once the white walkers come closer, then I will call upon you, brother, but for now we are managing just fine." Jon assured him. "You have a kingdom to run, after all and you have aided so much already." Robb glanced at Mance then, tilting his head at the wildling man.
"And your people are happy to fight?"
"We have been fighting this war longer than any of you southern boys, Fancy King." Tormund muttered, downing a pitcher of ale in one go. Mance continued after his friend, eyes locked with Robb's.
"If you allow us to send those who are unable or don't want to fight away from the Wall, the rest of us will stand with you. We want guarantee that our people won't be slaughtered either once we settle in the Southern lands. If I have your word that my people will be safe then we will have our deal, Robb Stark."
Robb said nothing, thoughtful as he regarded Mance. He looked like a calm man, composed and without reservation. It was not what Robb expected from the wilding leader, expecting a man similar probably to his companion, Tormund. But even then, when he studied the red-head, he still seemed more civil than he was expecting. The pair looked dangerous though, there was no mistaking that.
Breaking the silence, Tormund patted Jon heavily on the back then, Jon flinching as he did. A look was passed though between the two, Robb noticed, a definite camaraderie. Robb even noticed the small twitch of Jon's lips as he turned to the red-haired man.
"It's quite nice to be on this side of the Wall for a change. The view is so much nicer."
Robb hesitated once more, studying them both again and thinking of the rest of his folk. Their reputation still proceeded them, as did their known attacks and pillaging of villages just south of the Wall. Jon had assured him that those wildlings - the ones they would need to worry about - were either killed or still north of the Wall, having not decided to come with Mance and the others. Jon vouched for the ones who had come, promising Robb that they wanted nothing more but for safety during the Winter ahead and against the white walkers. Jon had sworn to Robb that no harm would come to anyone in the North while the wildlings remained here.
"It won't be forever, just until the white walkers have gone and then we can return back far North." Mance continued, after the silence had dragged on again, Robb's head swimming with thoughts.
"We have no intention of taking your castles from you, Fancy King, believe me." Tormund added, smirking at Jon briefly.
"You will understand my hesitation given your reputation," Robb muttered then, tilting his head at Mance. "Forgive me, I do not know whether to address you as a Lord or King or-" Tormund laughed then, hearty and loud, startling some men on the table next to them. Mance smiled politely.
"Mance is fine." Robb nodded.
"My people are also my priority, Mance. Their safety is all I care about. Believe me when I say that the only reason that I am having this conversation with you right now is because of the man sat beside you." Tormund's face had hardened briefly then, but the man said nothing. Mance's remained unreadable. "But I understand your plight. If you would allow it, I will discuss this further with Jon and my uncle before I make my decision." Tormund was on his feet in an instance, pitcher in hand and a grin on his face.
"Have at it, pretty boy." And with that, he wandered off to another group of wildlings down on the tables below.
Mance hesitated a moment longer, looking at Robb before turning to Jon. His brother said nothing either, just nodded once. Eventually, whatever unspoken between Mance and Jon passed and the wildling man rose to his feet. With a polite nod to Robb, Mance walked off, choosing to leave the Hall entirely.
The conversation between Robb, Jon and Blackfish continued long into the night. Jon argued the wildlings' case while Blackfish argued as to why they shouldn't be allowed safety over the Wall - though Robb noted how flippant their uncle was being with some of his comments. Robb's instinct was to say no, to banish them all back over the Wall. But there would be a fight, Robb knew. The wildlings would not let this lie and men would die - a lot of his men. And then the white walkers would come and they would have even less men to defend the Realm from such atrocities.
Alternatively, Robb could let them over the Wall, trusting that they wouldn't murder the Night's Watch in their sleep and pillage their way through the North. Robb's army could stop them before they sacked the Realm, but many people would die.
Or perhaps they would be true to their word and delay the next inevitable war?
It was a risk either way and not an easy decision to make. Robb would take the night, he decided, and he let Mance know by morning as to what decision he came to.
Blackfish retired soon after, biding goodnight to his nephews and leaving Robb alone with his brother. The pair shared a smile, both looking tired and weary from their respective fights. Robb studied Jon for a moment - he looked older than when they had last seen one another, his face scarred now and hair longer, tied now in a bun that suited him. His eyes looked sadder than they usually did, making Robb frown. He opened his mouth then to enquire about Jon's well-being but his brother beat him to it.
"How are you, Robb?" At that question, Robb let out a tired laugh.
"I fell much the same as you, I imagine." Robb returned, Jon smiling with understanding. "It's been a long few years, hasn't it." Jon nodded with agreement.
"Aye. And I fear there's a few more to the come." Robb scoffed.
"Yes, it seems so." He agreed, nodding and staring into his drink, bitterness rising again. "We will spend them wondering whether the wildlings will do as they say or if they will kill you and your men in your sleep. All the while dreading when the white walkers will eventually arrive and try to kill the entire Realm. While we await them to come, I have to deal with the political and physical damage the War has taken on the North and everyone in it. The Boltons are rebelling, Ramsay is missing. Winterfell is barely standing. Bran is nowhere to be found and Sansa is still married to the damn Lannister man and too far away to do anything about it. Then in the South, there's talks of civil unrest and no doubt an attempt to overthrow Stannis. I'm not convinced the Red Woman won't try something, no doubt some dark spell or sacrifice. Not forgetting the whispers from the East that Daenerys Targaryen is now Queen of Meereen. King Stannis seems to think he can handle her and her dragons when she gets bored of ruling over there and while I know that Stannis will be the first person she will try to overthrow, I'm sure she won't be so merciful with the Northern Independence." A pause as Robb downed his drink, feeling Jon's eyes staring into him. "And I don't know how to love my new wife."
"Well," Jon began slowly, sighing deeply. "I can't solve all your problems but perhaps I can give you an ear. I'm bored of politics and morbid worries. I think we've had enough to last a life time. A lighter topic, perhaps?" Jon tilted his head, looking at Robb meaningfully. "Why can't you love your new wife? Is she hideous?" Robb shook his head immediately, frowning as he thought of Miriella. Gods no, she was not hideous. "Is she cruel?"
"Absolutely not, she is very kind."
"Then are you still in love with the other woman?" Robb raised an eyebrow at Jon, saying nothing in return. "When was the last time you saw her?"
"When I was last in Riverrun. A few months past."
"I'm assuming you're unlikely to see her again." Robb shook his head. No, it was very unlikely he was to ever see Talisa again - a thought that gave him comfort and made his heart ache. "Then move on from her."
"Move on? That's all your advice for me?" Robb raised an eyebrow when Jon shrugged.
"I don't know what to tell you, Robb, or what you want to hear. I'm no expert when it comes to women but I know one thing - what's the point in letting yourself be miserable for the rest of your life over something you can't have anymore?" Jon paused, a sudden sadness in his expression that seemed to linger. Robb went to ask him what was wrong but Jon was quick to continue - he never was one who liked to talk about himself. "Enjoy what you had with the other woman but remind yourself that it is in the past. Do you know your wife? Truly?" Robb shook his head. "Then what is to say that you couldn't find happiness with her? What's to say you won't love her even more than the other? You think she wanted this? To be married to a man who clearly still loves another? You will never know if you won't even give her a chance, Robb."
And that was it. No matter how many lectures Robb had heard from his mother or his Great Uncle, it was Jon's brief words which finally sunk in.
He hadn't even given Miriella a chance.
Jon was right - she has not chosen this. This was on Robb and Walder Frey - even Talisa shared the blame. Miriella had done nothing wrong and Robb had been so quick to disregard her, to not even give her the chance.
"Perhaps you won't fall in love with her. But why not just try and be friends with her first? You were always pretty good at that." Robb smiled at that, feeling a weight against his chest as he thought of his wife back in Winterfell. She has been thrust into her position of Queen and he had left her to rule while he had gone. He hadn't even counselled her or consoled her much through it. Robb was thankful that she had his mother while he had been so lacking.
"Who were they?" Robb asked then, mind wandering briefly before he focused back on his brother. Jon looked confused for a moment so Robb continued. "There was someone you loved, wasn't there? Someone you can't have anymore?"
Jon's expression dawned then, his face darkening and for a moment, Robb thought he would not answer. Jon had always been closed and quiet, keeping a lot of things to himself. Robb always tried to give him a space to share, to let him know he could always come to him. Robb hoped he felt comfortable enough to share with him now.
"Her name was Ygritte." Jon's words were softly spoken, his gaze ducked. "She was a wildling woman who kidnapped me when I went over the Wall the first time. We-" A pause. "We lay together. We fell in love." A loud sniff and Jon briefly turned away before facing Robb once more, eyes meaningful. "I loved her and she died, in this very Castle."
"I'm sorry, Jon."
"Don't be." Jon shook his head, smiling sadly. "Nothing can be done about it now. She can't be brought back. She was the first woman I was ever with, the first woman I've ever loved. Perhaps she'll be the only one I'll ever be with. But I'm happy to have met her, to have shared what little time I had with her. I was alive before her and will continue living on after her - I am not under the illusion that I can't live without her, she just made things brighter in between and I am grateful for it."
"That's an interesting way of thinking about it." Jon shrugged.
"I spent some time feeling sad about it - I still do. But I don't want that sadness to define me, Robb, and I don't think you should let it define you either. We've both got more to live for, more things to do than be sad." At that, Robb raised his pitcher.
"To not letting our sadness define us." Jon laughed and toasted his pitcher to Robb's.
"Aye to that, brother."
Robb stared very hard at the parchment that night, staring and wondering what he should say. Jon's words were forever going around in his head and he wanted to do right now - by Miriella, by his family, his people but also by himself. He didn't want his sadness to define him. He wanted to try to be happy again. He didn't want to have fought for so many years, just to wind up miserable and bitter. Robb did not want that to be who he was but unfortunately, he could see that was where he was going.
Jon was right - he had a life before Talisa and there was no reason that he could not live without her. He could be happy - he might even be happier. He just needed to give himself the chance to. He needed to give his wife the chance too.
With a heavy sigh, Robb picked up the quill and wrote to his wife.