Read. Enjoy. Review. (The reading and enjoying is for you ... the reviews are for me!)
I own Lenora Baratheon, no one more.

Chapter Seventeen: I Am His and He is Mine

Lenora

It was done in the forest at night. The same forest where just days before Robb had captured her uncle after the Battle of the Whispering Wood. The trees still whispered their secrets in the moonlight, but Lenora could not understand them. She could hear nothing but the erratic, fast pace of her own heartbeat and her ragged, irregular breath. Her hands clenched into fists and released only to clench again a moment later. She could not stop the shaking, or the way her stomach seemed to be doing flips.

She shook her head violently and blinked away tears, "I can't do this," she whispered. "It's not right. I can't do it."

Theon shushed her, he had been put in charge of watching her tonight and he did not have Ser Willum's patience for her. "You will do as you're told," he ordered her, no doubt enjoying being able to order a princess around.

"I can't," Lenora told him, trying to get him to understand how she was feeling.

She was not supposed to be married in the woods at night in a dark Northern dress. She was supposed to be married in the Great Sept at King's Landing in a dress of ivory and gold. Her father, or he grandfather, or maybe even Uncle Jaime would have escorted her down the aisle to give her away. All the guests, and there would have been many would have stood as she walked past them and whispered about how beautiful she looked. Her husband would have draped the cloak of his house over her shoulders to symbolize how he had brought her under his and his family's protection. And then in front of their guests and in the sight of the Seven their hands would have been bound together and the septon would have proclaimed that they were now of one heart, one body, and one soul. He would have kissed her and their audience would clap and cheer.

The bells of the Great Sept would have rung out for days and the celebrations would have lasted for weeks. No doubt The Rains of Castamere would have been played so many times that even Tywin Lannister would have been sick of hearing it.

But that would not be the way of things, not for Lenora at least.

Instead she was to be married in front of a Heart Tree, in the woods at night in front of Robb's most trusted bannermen. No ivory dress, no bell ringing in the Sept, no celebrations, and no family. Instead of her grandfather or Jaime giving her away it was to be Theon Greyjoy who walked her to the tree. It was an honor that Robb had bestowed on Theon, though Lenora was sure that part of his decision had been to humiliate her.

How far she had fallen in such a short time, that the Stark's ward and the son of a rebellious lord on an island no one cared about, was to walk her to her marriage ceremony.

Lenora looked up toward the sky, a soft gentle snow was falling through the trees, Robb's men had said that Robb brought the North with him when he marched south. And maybe he had. Theon watched her face, looking for any sign that she was going to disobey him. Then he dropped his voice down to a whisper, "You would do well to do as you are bid," he warned her. "Quickly and quietly. Robb has decided to honor his betrothal to you and as long as you are under his protection you will be treated well. But, I'm sure, that there are plenty of men at the camp that would like to see what a princess looks like without all of her pretty dresses."

Lenora's eyes narrowed into a glare, but she kept her face forward, refusing to look at the man beside her. Refusing to let him know that his threat had frightened her.

"You could do worse than the Lord of Winterfell," Theon told her, his voice easy as if they were having a conversation about the weather. "No matter how this war turns out you would have a good life. But think about what your family would do if they learned that you had been ruined and not by a Northern Lord like Robb but by some common foot soldier or a sellsword."

"I imagine that my mother will think me ruined no matter what happens after tonight," Lenora told him, still looking straight ahead. "Whether he has the word Lord in front of his name or not Robb is still a traitor. I'd almost rather it be a common foot soldier, at least then I would know that he was betraying his king and country because his liege lord had ordered it and not because he was a child throwing a fit."

Theon chuckled, "You did always have a tongue like a sword," he told her, his voice quiet. "I would be careful though, Princess, you might get what you wish for and not like it once you do."

Lenora nodded as if he had just reminded her of something, "I am a princess," she told him. "And as your princess, I order you to stop talking to me. Your voice is more annoying than my brother's."

"As you wish, My Lady," Theon told her, he held his left hand up, bent at the elbow, it was time to start. She placed her right hand on his upper arm without looking at him and allowed him to walk her down the short, overgrown path to the Heart Tree where Robb stood waiting for her. She was surprised to see an old man, a septon standing in front of the tree as well.

She glanced between the old man and Robb, unasked questions in her eyes. Robb smiled at her softly as Theon placed her hands in his and then melted away. "My father prays to the Old Gods," he told her, "my mother to the New. You worship the Seven. I thought that it would make you feel more comfortable if this was somewhat familiar."

He had explained this all in a quick whisper. Lenora raised her eyebrows, surprised that Robb had cared anything about making her feel more comfortable. "If you truly wanted me comfortable you would not make me do this," she whispered to him.

Robb shook his head, "It's a smart decision," he told her. "Even you cannot fault me for it."

Lenora scoffed, "And what of love?" she asked him. "Do we not each deserve that in our marriage?"

"Would you have gotten that with whatever southern lord your mother is probably already planning to sell you to?" he asked her, raising his eyebrows.

Lenora shrugged her shoulders, "There would have been the hope for it."

If Robb wanted to say anything else he was not given the chance. The septon walked forward and requested that Robb cloak her and take her under his protection. He did not have a formal cloak with his family's sigil on it, but he did take off his warm, fur cloak and drape it over her shoulders. Unbidden Lenora's mind went to that day in Winterfell when Robb had given her a tour of the castle, she had been cold and Robb had given her is cloak that day too.

A different place. A different cloak. A different man.

His hands shook as he smoothed the cloak over her shoulders now and when she glanced up at him from under her eyelashes she could see how nervous the young man really was. He wasn't alone in that.

He took her hand in his and they walked a step closer to the septon, their hands outstretched. The old man took a long leather cord from the pocket of his robe and started to wrap it around their interlaced hands, binding them together. "In the sight of the Seven, and the unnumbered Old Gods, I seal these two souls, binding them as one for eternity." He stepped back, and held his hands out to the two of them, "Look upon one another and say the words," he commanded.

With their hands still bound together, her right and his left, they each turned a quarter turn so that they were looking at each other. Or rather, Robb was looking at Lenora and she was staring down at their bound hands. It was too real for her, too much, and still so wrong. This was not how her wedding was supposed to go. Robb reached his right hand out and slipped it under her chin, gently lifting it until her gaze found his. His blue eyes were soft and kind, though they narrowed with concern when Lenora felt the tears she had been trying so desperately to hold in begin to slip down her cheeks. He reached his hand up and brushed away one of the tears, leaving his thumb on her cheek. "Are you ready?" he asked her, his voice a whisper as soft and warm as velvet.

She nodded and he nodded too.

"Father. Smith. Warrior. Mother. Maiden. Crone. Stranger," they said in union, making each name of the Seven its own sentence. "I am his and he is mine. From this day until the end of my days." Still in unison, though Robb changed it to "I am hers and she is mine."

The septon had nodded to Robb, "Then here, in the Godswood, in front of the Old Gods and the New I declare you husband and wife, Lord and Lady."

Robb looked at her, as if asking for permission before he stepped closer to her, their hands still bound and dropped his lips on hers. This was the first time they had kissed since they had learned of her father's death and his father's imprisonment.

His kiss was soft and gentle, but claiming all the same. Whether she had wanted it or not, whether she was happy or not, whether she loved him or not. They were married now. She belonged to him.

He wiped her tears again as he pulled away from her and as his bannermen's cheers filled the woods around them, chasing away the whispers with shouts of congratulations the septon took the leather strap off of their hands and turned them toward the waiting lords. Lenora swallowed back her tears, not wanting to seem weak in front of the men. She lifted her hands to Robb's cloak that was still draped over her shoulders, meaning to return it to him, but Robb shook his head, "It's too cold out here for my southern bride," he told her, "it is yours for now."

Lenora ducked her head and sank into a shallow curtsy, "As you wish, My Lord," she told him, her tone sarcastic.

"Oh come now, Nora," Robb had begged her. "Don't be like this, My Lady."

Lenora looked at him for a moment, watching how his eyes danced over her face, then she let a smile slip onto her lips, "Would you rather me kick and scream on my way back to camp, Robb?" she asked him.

"Only if you want to," Robb told her, a smile of his own finding its way onto his lips. "Though it would go a great way to showing me that you were back to normal."

Lenora looked past him, toward his bannermen who were making their way back to the camp, loud and happy, she had heard that a great feast had been planned to celebrate the occasion. "Something tells me that your Lords Bannermen would not take kindly to the insult," Lenora told him, the smile falling from her lips.

"To the seven hells with them," Robb told her, his eyes dropping to her lips, his gaze staying there. "I would rather spend the night with you." Lenora struggled to hold onto her anger, but it was hard when he looked at her like that. It brought her back to Winterfell and to happier times. It reminded her that she had once been well on her way to falling in love with him. And he with her. She sighed, her chest rising and falling with her breath, maybe they still were, despite everything, on their way to being in love.

If they weren't already there.

"Do you think?" Robb started, his blue eyed gaze leaving her lips and rising to her eyes. She held her breath, waiting for what he had to say, but he was interrupted by Theon calling out to him to hurry up, his bannermen would get drunk without him if he made them wait much longer.

-.-.-.-.-

Robb

The feast was loud and busy. The food was warm and delicious. The ale flowed freely. It did not take long though, for his Lords Bannermen to realize that something was missing from the wedding ceremony.

Lord Glover was the one who reminded them, standing up from his seat at a table below the one where Robb, Lenora, Catelyn, and a few trusted others sat. He bowed low to Robb and Lenora. "The Lord and Lady's hands have been bound. He cloaked her in front of the Old Gods and the New. They said the words and kissed in front of witnesses. But this wedding is not complete yet. As I have heard Lord Walder Frey say at one of his many weddings: A sword needs a sheath and a wedding needs a bedding."

The men all cheered loudly and Robb chuckled loudly, though his laughter died on his lips when he turned to look at Lenora. Her breathing was shallow and quick, her chest rising and falling rapidly, straining against the corset she wore. Her eyes were wide and frightened as she looked between Lord Glover and Robb. Her lips were parted as if she was about to ask a question, one that she did not want to know the answer to.

Robb placed a comforting hand on top of her own and leaned closer to her so that he could whisper in her ear, "The bedding ceremony, surely you have these in the South?"

Lenora nodded, "We do, they're rather formal affairs. A lot of bowing and curtsying as the couple is led to their bed chamber. No one gets this excited about them." She looked away from him at the men at the tables below. "What am I missing?"

Lord Glover interrupted before he could answer, "What say you, Lord Stark?"

Robb stood and smiled, "Very well, Lord Glover, if my Lords Bannermen insist." The resulting cheer made it clear that they did, in fact, insist. Robb held his hand out to Lenora and gently lifted her from her seat. He leaned in close, his lips brushing against her ear as he whispered, "It won't take long, and they will be gentle." Lenora's eyebrows lifted at the word gentle and Robb realized what she must have been thinking when she heard that word. "No," he told her quickly, shaking his head, "no. They won't touch you," he whispered, "we Northerners are not so wild as that."

Lenora looked at him, her eyes nervous, as if she did not trust him. "I once read about the rite of First Night," she whispered.

Robb shook his head again, "Outlawed," he promised her. "By one of the Targaryen Kings. Though even if it hadn't been, as the Liege Lord only I would be allowed to partake in the rite."

Lenora looked between Robb and the lords that were quickly approaching her. "Then what do they mean to do with me?" she asked him, her eyes darting back to the men.

Robb thought that she had been joking, surely someone would have explained this to her, so instead of comforting her he shrugged his shoulders, "Undress you," he told her.

"Undress me?" Lenora fired back, the surprise in her voice making him look at her, truly look at her for the first time since Lord Glover had suggested the bedding. They were more respectful down south, especially when it came to noble women. Whatever the bedding ceremony in King's Landing entailed, it did not involve men who were not the groom, undressing the bride.

"Nora," he started, trying to find a way to comfort her. But it was too late, the Lords had reached her.

"Up you get, Little Princess," the Greatjon told her, not unkindly, before he wrapped his arm around her small waist and picked her up off the ground. The lords and Theon crowded around her and Lenora screamed as they started to carry her away from Robb and the table, toward Robb's tent.

Robb smiled ruefully as she screamed again, louder and longer as one of the lords pulled his cloak off of her shoulders and dropped it on a table as they passed. He could still remember his threat to the Kingslayer the night before, when he had told the knight that he would bed his niece and that maybe she would scream loud enough that Jaime would be able to hear it from wherever he was caged.

He was sure that the Kingslayer could hear Lenora now. But the knowledge did not please him the way he thought it would. One of Karstark's nephews tore impatiently at the laces that held Lenora's dress, the princess looked terrified as her hands quickly shot to her chest, clutching at the fabric to hold it in place, to keep her decent.

Robb felt his fists clench, he had never understood the bedding ceremony. He just knew that it was a tradition and that it was not for him to question tradition. But he did not like it, the way the men were touching her now.

His mother stood and made her way to his side, "Your wife is uncomfortable," she told him, scolding him in the gentle way she had always been able to do.

He looked at his mother, turning away from the scene in front of him. "What am I to do, Mother?" he asked her. "It's a Northern tradition. I'm sure you did not like it on your wedding night. And father probably hated it."

Catelyn smiled sadly and shook her head, "Your father forbade it," she told him. "He told me tradition be damned, that it would not be right for him to break a man's jaw on our wedding night. We walked to our bedchamber alone and he undressed me himself."

"I can do that?" Robb asked, not looking away from his mother.

"You are their Liege Lord," she told him, "you can do whatever you would like."

Robb turned nodded and turned away from his mother. The group of men had not gone too far, much more concerned with undressing the princess than bringing her to his tent, it would seem. "Stop," he yelled, his voice loud and firm. The noise and chaos seemed to stop almost instantly, some of the men even turned to look at him, waiting for further commands. He walked around the table and started toward the group. "Put her down," he commanded.

He paused, for just a moment to grab his cloak from where they had dropped it. They put Lenora down though they still surrounded her; she was crying, silent tears sliding down her cheeks. They had torn off her dress, removed her corset, and someone had ripped at the collar of her chemise. The only thing keeping the thin, almost see-through white garment up was Lenora's hands, clutching desperately at it, probably praying to the Seven that it did not slip.

Robb quickly moved to her side and draped his cloak over her shoulders, shielding her from the men's gaze. He pulled her away from them and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, she curled into him, clutching at his shirt as desperately as she held her chemise. "What are you doing?" she whispered, though he could sense just how grateful she was to him.

"I promised to protect you," Robb whispered back, turning to look at his small bride. "Letting them do that to you was not protecting you."

"But it's tradition," Lenora whispered, not looking at him.

His thumb slipped under her chin and he held her between his thumb and his crooked index finger, gently turning her head and tilting it up until she was looking at him. "Tradition be damned," he told her, echoing his father's words from so many years ago. "As your husband it is now my job to protect your honor. Are you going to let me do that or are you going to keep arguing with me?"

Lenora watched him, her grey eyes narrow and careful, as if she did not trust this sudden desire of his to protect and preserve her honor, but after a moment she nodded. "Get on with it then," she told him, her eyes darting away from his face and toward the men that were still there, staring at their lord.

Robb nodded and turned toward the men, "That is enough, My Lords," he told them, his eyes narrow and hard. "I will take my wife to my tent myself." And then, when he received no argument from any of the older men he allowed his left arm to slide under Lenora's legs and then as if she were as light as his younger sister he lifted her off the ground and carried her to his tent. He could have let her walk, but he felt as though the princess was going to break at any moment and he knew that she would rather not break in front of the men.

He put her down on the edge of the bed and turned toward the entrance of the tent so that he could close the flaps. Every candle in the tent was lit and it was warm and well lit. He poured her a glass of wine and walked back to the bed, handing it to her silently before he walked away. He grabbed one of the chairs and carried it toward the bed. He set it down about a foot away from the end of the bed and sat down.

Lenora shied away from him, moving a bit further up the bed. He chuckled and shook his head, reaching out for her goblet of wine. She handed it to him and he took a long sip before he handed it back to her. "I'm not going to force you to do anything you do not want to do."

She scoffed at that, "That's kind of you," she told him, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "After all, I suppose it was my decision to marry you."

Robb chuckled at that, now that she was away from his men she was braver than he had been before. It was good, he liked her better this way. He didn't know what to do with a meek and mild Lenora. She was a fighter, that was what he loved about her. His laughter died quickly when he realized that it was true - he loved Lenora Baratheon.

She took a sip of wine and looked at him over the rim of the goblet, "What is so funny?" she asked him.

"There you are," Robb told her, whispering with a smile. "My little warrior."

Lenora smiled ruefully, no doubt remembering the first time he had called her that. "Why did you do it?" she asked him.

This would have been the time, he realized, to tell her the truth of the letter that her uncle had sent to all the great houses of the Seven Kingdoms. But he didn't. Instead he shifted in his seat, "Marry you?" he asked her.

"No," she told him sarcastically as she shook her head, "wear that shirt. Of course I meant marry me."

Robb laughed, enjoying her fiery spirit. He had missed it over the last few weeks. "Because -" he started.

"Do not tell me it was because you need to keep your word to our fathers," she interrupted.

Robb smiled, "As you wish," he told her, his voice quiet and playful. "I married you because," he paused, swallowing his nerves. If he couldn't tell her one truth he would tell her the other. "Because I love you."

He didn't miss Lenora's gasp as her gaze quickly landed on his face. She shook her head, trying to deny it, but Robb wasn't going to let her write him off. He shook his head too, laughing quietly, "I probably loved you since that first day at Winterfell," he shook his head again, remembering. "When I first saw you on that horse I thought you were a whore, one of your uncle's." He laughed, closing his eyes at the memory. "I was so stupid, Nora, so blind. If I had only opened my eyes a little wider I would have seen you for what your truly were, before your father introduced you."

Lenora smiled, "My mother was so angry at me that day," she told him. "I was supposed to dismount and ride in the wheel house with her before we arrived at Winterfell, but I -"

"You had a mind of your own," Robb interrupted.

Lenora nodded at him, "So it was then?" she asked him, "Then that you realized that you loved me?"

Robb nodded, but quickly changed his mind, "No," he told her. "I loved you before that, I'm only realizing it now."

Lenora watched him, her grey eyes stormy and sad, "I don't love you," she told him, her voice was quiet, its own kind of apology. "I can't, not after everything that has happened between us." She looked up at him and Robb tensed when he noticed the tears sparkling in her eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

He nodded, "I know," he told her, standing up from his chair. "That is why I won't force myself on you, not tonight, nor any other night either. I will wait until you are ready."

"What if I am never ready?" Lenora asked him.

"Then I will keep waiting," Robb told her. "Until the end of my days," he promised, echoing the words of the marriage vows.

-.-.-.-.-

Jaime

He saw her walking toward his cage and he quickly sat up, wiping at his face. He couldn't keep her from seeing him chained in his cage, but he could keep her from seeing his face covered in mud and shit. She was still followed by her guard, though the man kept more of a distance than he used to. Her grey eyes sought him out, but her first words were to his guard, not to him. "Leave us," she ordered.

Jaime watched with raised eyebrows as the man listened to her. He didn't leave them entirely, he stood far enough away to be out of earshot, but close enough to stop her if she tried to free him. Close enough to kill him if he tried to run.

She turned her gaze on her own guard and without her needing to say a word, the knight bowed to her and backed away. She turned back to him, her eyes were still a dark, stormy grey, but there was a light in them that hadn't been there when she first approached him. Her lips twitched into an almost smile.

"Enjoying your newfound power, Len?" he asked her, his tone light and playful although this was not a joke. She had come to tell him, no doubt, but he already knew. He had heard some of the young soldiers around his cage talking about it that morning, how his niece and Robb Stark had been married in the woods the night before.

If Lenora was surprised that he knew she did not let on. Her almost smile became a true smile. "Of course I am," she told him. "It's been so long since I've felt that I had power."

Jaime chuckled at her and shook her head, "I don't believe you have ever been without power, Lady Stark. You have more power in your little finger than most people will have in their whole body," he told her. He was hinting at something, she could tell, he could see it from the glint in her grey eyes as she looked up at him. "Or are you still a Baratheon?" he asked.

Highborn ladies had a choice in these matters, after all. There was no law requiring them to take their husband's name, nor precedence really. It usually depended on how much the woman loved her husband or whose house was more powerful. Catelyn Tully had become Lady Stark because the Starks were a more important family. Whereas Cersei Lannister would always be Cersei Lannister because in her eyes there was no greater honor than being a part of the richest and most influential family in the Seven Kingdoms.

Baratheon was a good, strong surname, it belonged to the King. But for now, Lenora was in the North, surrounded by men who planned to behead the King, it would probably be wisest for her not to remind them that he was her brother.

"Lady Lenora Stark," Lenora murmured, a sparkle in her eye. "I hadn't really thought much of it, to be honest, Uncle Jaime. But I suppose it has a nice ring to it."

Jaime noticed the sparkle, but said nothing. "Was he kind to you?" he asked her instead. "Did he force himself on you?" Lenora looked at him, surprise written all over her face, it was clear that this was the last thing she had expected to discuss with him. She was shy. He sighed, "I heard my guards talking this morning," he told her, looking away, he was as uncomfortable with the conversation as she was. "They said that the boy put a stop to the bedding ceremony before you were completely disrobed," he hated to admit it, but he would have to thank the Young Wolf for protecting his niece's honor. Lenora nodded, silently confirming what he said. "But after that, once he brought you to his tent, did he force himself upon you?"

Lenora shook her head, "He was the perfect gentleman," she told him, her voice nothing but a whisper. "He told me he loved me," she scoffed, though Jaime had a feeling the laughter was for his benefit, that Lenora wanted to believe that the boy really did love her. "He told me that he would not force himself on me, that I would not have to do anything I did not want to. He swore it to me."

"And you believed him?" Jaime asked with a chuckle.

Lenora nodded, her face solemn, "I do," she told him. "He kept it last night."

"You mean the marriage was not consummated?" Jaime asked, sitting up a little straighter.

Lenora shook her head and after looking around for moment she sat down in the mud next to him. Jaime made a noise of protest, but she waved him off. "He said he wouldn't make me and I couldn't do it. He says that he loves me, but I love him not."

Jaime shook his head. Whispers of the wedding were not the only stories he had heard since his imprisonment. He had heard of a letter, one that Stannis Baratheon had sent to all the great houses of the Seven Kingdoms. They had teased him about it. About how three of Cersei Lannister's four children were his. It seemed that no one had shared the information with Lenora though.

The Stark boy had been smart, marrying her. Once it came out, the entire country would be gunning for Joffrey's head. For Cersei's. For Myrcella's. And Tommen's. The only person who would be safe was Lenora, but only from the death. As the only trueborn child of Robert Baratheon, she would be a fine prize for any man with his eyes on the Iron Throne. She would be a pawn, captured and recaptured countless times by this family and that.

Not only had Robb gotten a head start on them, but Jaime realized that the boy also meant to protect her. As of last night in the woods none of his northern men would dare to touch her. She was safe from here to the wall. But only if she was his true wife.

He shook his head, "Listen to me, Len," he told her, his voice quiet and urgent. "You must consummate your marriage. The sooner the better. Do you hear me?"

Lenora looked at him, surprised, "Uncle Jaime?" she asked, shaking her head, "I thought you would be pleased with me."

It broke his heart, to see the hurt and confusion on her face, in the set of her shoulders. He moved closer to her, wanting nothing more than to hug her, but with his hands chained together the best he could settle for was to hold her face between his hands. He pulled her closer to him and pressed a hard kiss to her forehead. "Oh sweet girl," he told her, pulling away so that he could look her in the eye, trying to make her feel what he felt about her. He pulled her closer to him, pressing another kiss to her forehead. "My sweet Len. My good, strong Lenora. Of course I am pleased. I would be much less proud of you if you had given yourself to him without a fight. But now, you must do as I say?" He was pleading, that was what would get her, in her now eighteen years of life she had never known him to beg. If he was begging now it was because he had good reason for it. "Len?" he asked her, waiting for verbal confirmation that she would listen to him, just as he had done many times when she was a small girl at Casterly Rock.

She nodded. "Len?" he asked, he didn't want a nod, he wanted her word.

She sighed, "Yes, Uncle Jaime," she told him with a nod.

"There's my good girl," Jaime praised her. "You always were the best one."

"Better than Joffrey?" Lenora asked, her eyebrows raised.

"Better than the lot of them."

Lenora smiled at that, but only for a moment, the smile quickly slipped from her lips as she looked around the cage. "How are you being treated, Uncle Jaime?" she asked, though her tone told him that she already knew the answer to that question.

"Well enough," he told her, not wanting her to worry about him. "Though I could do with some more women," he added, making a joke of it.

Lenora sighed, "When did you turn into Uncle Tyrion?"

Jaime laughed at that, "My little brother had to learn it from somewhere, did he not?" he asked her.

"I suppose so," Lenora told him, pursing her lips playfully. "He once told me the story of his wife, the one you bought for him."

Jaime looked down, "Not my finest moment," he admitted.

"Indeed," Lenora agreed, looking away from him for just a moment. "What will it be like?" she asked him, turning back to look at him.

"What will what be like, love?" he asked her.

"To become his true wife, even if I do not love him."

"It will be painful," he told her, "I will not tell you false, my sweet doe. But it will get easier, I promise."

"But I don't love him," she argued.

"Do you think my mother loved my father when they married?" Jaime asked her. "Or your mother and father? Or even Catelyn and Ned Stark?" he shook his head. "Love grows, Len, it doesn't just happen. You might not love him now, but you will bear him children, sons and daughters and you will love him because he gave them to you. And he will continue loving you because you gave his house a future."

Lenora smiled ruefully, "Mother once told me something like that," she whispered. "She also told me that I was to love no one but my children. To trust no one but my children."

Jaime nodded, "Cersei trusts more than her children," he told her.

"You," Lenora told him.

Jaime nodded, "Don't listen to everything your mother tells you," he warned the girl. "For all the world it gave her, it never made her happy."

"She told me once that it was not a woman's job to be happy," she argued.

"There you go, listening to your mother again. Don't."

Lenora smiled at him, "And this is the advice from the only man my mother trusts: don't listen to her."

She leaned closer to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. "I wish I could free you, Uncle Jaime," she whispered.

Jaime shook his head, "Do you think I would leave you here?" he asked her. He shook his head when she didn't answer. "Even if they were to free me today, I would not leave with out you, my sweet girl."

She stood up straight, not bothering with the dirt on her dress. "I would order you to."

Jaime shook his head, "These men may listen to you, Lady Stark," he told her, "they may follow your orders. But I will not."

Lenora nodded, "Then I might not follow yours," she told him, half joking.

"You gave me your word, Len," Jaime told her. "You will do it."

Lenora nodded, "Aye," she told him. "I will do it."

"Now," Jaime ordered.

"This week," Lenora told him with a shrug.

"Tonight."

"We'll see."

And then she was gone. He would give Cersei one thing, she had taught her daughter how to always have the last word.

Author's Note:
And they are married. It's a thing that's happened. I'm excited about it because it opens the two of them up to some pretty exciting things in the future.
Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter! Thank you for stopping by and reading it. And thank you in advance for dropping down to that empty box down there and writing a review. I'm pretty sure that the New Gods and the Old smile on people who review! Just saying.
BIG thanks to those who wrote reviews on the last chapter, I enjoyed getting the chance to read them last week, even though I didn't have time to update the story!
DannyBlack70: Glad that you enjoyed the last chapter. The battle part was my favorite thing to write. I cannot wait to really sink my teeth into the war so I can write more about the battles. One more chapter, I think, until Lenora finds out about Jaime!
Arianna Le Fay: Will Robb die ... hmm ... I don't know. (Actually, I do, but I don't want to ruin it for you.) But I will tell you this, Jon Snow will be coming back to the story in a BIG and important way. I promise.
Anonymous Guest Friend: Hello! Thank you for your review. I'm glad you enjoy the story! As for your question, Lenora is kind of in the in between. She is a prisoner, but now she's Robb's wife. Cersei would have been willing to make a trade for Lenora's return but Joffrey, Tywin, and Robb would not be that stupid. Especially since Robb knows that Lenora is Robert Baratheon's only trueborn child, he's not letting her go now.
Rhyming With Oranges: I am in love with your review! Thank you! I'm glad that you've enjoyed this story so far and I hope that you enjoyed this chapter as well.
I'm glad this chapter is different from other Robb/OC stories you have read. I haven't read many of them, because the first few I did try to read were too predictable and just ... blah. So I decided to write this one because I wanted a Robb/OC story that I would actually want to read. And I'm just really happy that other people want to read it too.
There was some thawing in this chapter, as far as Robb and Lenora's interactions go, but I cannot promise that it will last long. I like Robb Stark and I like roller coasters, so there will be some ups and downs for the Young Wolf.
That's all I've got for now! I might (probably) will be back tomorrow.
Until next time,
Chloe Jane.