Once again, I am aware that Dacey Mormont is older than Robb, but I have decided to lower the age difference as much as possible but still making it a comfortable change.

Dacey Mormont – 280 AC (17)

Robb Stark – 283 AC (14)

297 AC

Catelyn

It took all her effort not to cry. Earlier in the year, her two boys, her sweet, kind boys became men. Oh so much younger than she ever hoped. When Robb and Edwyle were attacked, she prayed to all the gods, both the Seven and the Old Gods. They answered her prayers.

Her boys came home safe. She soon realized however, only physically. To her eternal anguish, neither Robb nor Edwyle was the same. Gone were the daily smiles from Robb. He still had them, but he was never so quick to produce one.

And Ed, her little Ed. He became even more closed off. He dedicated every hour of every day to the tiltyard and his father's studies. He no longer wished to read as veraciously as he had done previously. He was shorter with people. At one point he actually snapped at Arya at which point she had to track down her daughter and comfort her. Edwyle became obsessed with protecting the family.

She feared it would pull him too far into madness, as if he were to hide so far within furs on a cold night, only to be unable to escape from the mess that would be made. Thankfully, about a month later, her dear Ned finally sat down with Edwyle in his solar. No one else was allowed in and they and remained shut in for nearly three hours. Though she didn't know what was discussed, it seemed to help. Slowly, Ed became more open again and apologized to his siblings.

Neither father nor son ever spoke about what was shared, but she could assume at least part of the conversation. After all, her own husband was in the same position as Ed was at his age, the spare. Just as he had a special connection with Robb, so too did he have one with Ed.

But enough of that. The tears she spilled today were not out of sadness, but out of happiness. Today would be the day that her Robb would finally marry a woman grown and flowered.

Dacey Mormont was admittedly not her first choice, initially, she thought of her as too lowly, too savage, too…Northern. She was still bitter at her husband's decision to have Robb marry in the North, she'd probably be bitter about it until her death, but she learned to get over it.

Marriage, she learned, was more than just her wants. She would allow her husband this victory. Her small victory was his promise to…think about other marriages for Edwyle, Arya, Bran, and Rickon. She acquiesced on Robb and Sansa. After all, the eldest son and eldest daughter were powerful tools to a Lord Paramount.

Dacey Mormont was still not her first choice for a Northern woman…but she always wanted her children to marry for love, unlike all those who were sentenced to marriages during the Rebellion…no matter how terrible or well they turned out.

Dacey Mormont

The last time she had been to Winterfell was during the Harvest Festival with her mother, oh so many years ago. It was a magnificent castle. The twin curtain walls with a moat betwixt them was awe-inspiring alone, not even counting the massive keep within the walls.

To be completely honest with herself, she didn't know what to make of this marriage. She herself was the heir to her mother's domain. After this however, it would be Alysane who would assume the heirship. She always thought she'd live her life on Bear Island, raising it to prosperous heights, something that her cousin destroyed the chance of when he fled.

Her own mother was shocked when the first letter appeared from the rookery. She still remembers the day well. Her Lady mother called her into her solar and showed her the scroll that had been sent. After all the lengthy introductions, her eyes became like serving plates when she read that one line: 'House Stark extends an offer that the next Lady of Winterfell to be of House Mormont of Bear Island.'

At first, she dismissed it out of hand. In an attempt to deflect, she cited the numerous unknowns that would come from such a politically unlikely marriage. Though inside, she was thinking of herself.

She was not foolish. She knew she had beauty. But she was aware that their current Lady of the North was a southerner, Dacey had no idea if her children would be so influenced. She was beautiful, aye, but she was also very tall, more so than most women, she was a warrior also and unafraid of combat. Would the next Stark in Winterfell be so inclined to see her as a complete woman, or as only as they wanted to see her?

Her solution? She asked her mother to respond to Lord Stark her political worries. Though her mother agreed, she privately considered it a test. If Lord Stark, and his heir who he no doubt included in discussion, did not pursue it further, she knew she had made the right choice.

Then, some weeks later, another raven arrived. It seemed like House Stark would not back down so easily. She remembers the faces of her sisters when her mother finally shared the news.

Though by that point, the marriage was all but agreed on, Dacey bore no reservations of leaving her betrothed at the weirwood if she judged him to be unfit as a husband. Make no mistake, she was loyal to House Stark, but to the House first, than to the persons who made it.

However, it seemed to be in the past regardless. When they first arrived in Winterfell, about a week previous, she had met the entire Stark household in the courtyard of the keep.

Her Lord and Master, Eddard Stark stood strong, silent, a certain calmness, like the eye of a terrible storm. She admired that. Next was his wife. Lady Catelyn seemed nice enough, if not a little distant. Dacey made an educated guess that it was more out of observation than immediate disgust. One cannot blame her, looking out for her eldest's interests.

She finally came upon him. The third person in line overall. Robb Stark. He was not overly tall, roughly the same height as her. But he was much broader. While he was a boy of only four and ten years, he had an aura of maturity around him. And admittedly, he was not bad on the eyes to look at. A strong, long face led to an equally strong and chiseled cheekbones and chin. But gone were the telltale signs of being a Stark. His dark reddish hair coupled with his ocean blue eyes could be nothing more than the symbols of his Tully mother. And his voice…gods that voice.

"My lady. Be welcome to Winterfell." Robb Stark had greeted her. Though he did not smile, he did not have a mean or stern face. She didn't blame him. Just as she was entering new territory, so was he.

At that point, she had met the rest of the family. Next was Edwyle Stark, the second son and child of Lord Stark. Edwyle was in much closer appearance to his father than either Robb or his younger brothers. Sharing the long and chiseled face, he shared the same grey eyes as his father and darker hair. He was much more reserved but was nice and respectable enough.

Her immediate views on Sansa, the eldest girl, were negative. Certainly she didn't know the girl, but she possessed an attitude of a Southerner, something she had been raised on being a bad thing, not to mention her experience with her cousin's wife. She had to promise herself to keep an open mind and try to open to her.

Arya Stark was the closest she saw any of her own siblings in. No doubt Arya had much of the famed wolfsblood in her. A wild child to be sure. I very much look forward to sharing time with her. She seems to be the most fun and free.

The last two children were Brandon, who went by Bran, and Rickon Stark. Though Bran was older than Rickon, both were still quite young, so Dacey did not make any impressionable assumptions yet.

From that first day, she and her family were housed in the best guest wing Winterfell had to offer. It was something of a shock to Dacey if she as being honest with herself. Bear Island was strong in its own way. Each of their warriors were tried and true, but Winterfell…Winterfell was a different breed.

The simple scale of the castle was the first shock. Then both the number and equipment of the Winterfell Guard impressed her as well. Certainly this was not a time in which a rebellious house should act out. Dacey estimated that if the Bolton's, because of course it would be those disgusting leeches, rebelled, she doubted that Winterfell would need to call upon their own banners. No doubt they still would though.

She also spent time with her betrothed. He allowed her and her family to rest on the first day, not speaking to her again until the small feast that evening. She was very appreciative of that. It had been a long journey.

But in the days that followed, they spoke at great lengths when they broke their fast before he would take her on walks around Winterfell. Though the family apparently usually stuck to the understandable places like the family wing, the family hall, the courtyard, and so on, Robb gave her a tour of the castle at large. Every day going through a different part. He even included the Guard's Tower, the headquarters of the Winterfell Guard.

It was during these quiet walks that she learned of the trials that he and Edwyle faced earlier in the year. She was shocked that boys so young had been in a true fight. Her respect for him only increased.

On the fourth day after her arrival, she decided to go and participate in the tiltyard. Time to see what his thoughts about that were. She had thought to herself. But out of custom and necessity, she requested to Lord Stark if she could have access to the practice yard. She was surprised when he not only granted her request but did so quickly and without a second though seemingly, handing her a signed parchment to give to his master-at-arms.

She specifically took a route to the courtyard that would take her in the presence of the Stark boys. Although neither Robb nor his brother Edwyle approached her, she knew they were watching as she walked up to Ser Rodrik Cassel, the master-at-arms for Winterfell.

Robb

Robb thought that he would remember that day for the rest of his life. He had been in conversation with Edwyle and Ser Jory when he saw his betrothed, Dacey Mormont stalk into the practice field, a scroll in hand, right up to Ser Rodrik. What in the gods' name is she doing?

He had a suspicion that she was wanting to practice. He had no problem with that. His own sisters would soon join him and Edwyle too. But then she impressed him.

Denying any of the swords or spears or the normal weapons, it appeared that Lady Dacey had elected to choose a mace of all weapons. And then Ser Rodrik called for the spar to begin Dacey was facing Alyn, a close guard of his Lord father who had been given the day off.

And she was glorious! Gods how she moved! Keeping his face numbly terse, he could only mentally gape as he saw his future wife not only be able to keep up with Alyn, but within only a few minutes, make him yield. Soon, she called for more opponents and after another three bouts of facing off with other guards, she called it a day.

She had won, every single spar.

Dacey

She had enjoyed being able to spar for the first time in weeks. Her long time spent traveling and initial days in Winterfell had hampered her normal schedule. She returned the borrowed mace to Ser Rodrik and turned to walk away. She made sure to look at Robb Stark and his companions.

His face was neutral, though after, a moment, he cracked an incredibly small smirk and nodded once. Dacey actually had to remind herself to keep walking. Perhaps this marriage will not be so terrible after all.

Eddard

The day had finally come. It had been about a week-and-a-half since the Mormont's arrival. Since then, delegations from much of the North had arrived as well. Houses Cerwyn and Tallhart arrived first due to their proximity but more of the greater houses; Glover, Dustin, Hornwood, Flint, Ryswell, Umber, Bolton, Karstark, and many others arrived.

Some in greater numbers than others. House Manderly showed up with great fanfare, Wyman Manderly apparently unbothered his granddaughter had not been chosen. I'll have to award them some other benefit for being passed over.

Houses Umber and Karstark were respectful enough, though neither Rickard nor the Greatjon was completely happy for the reason. Greatjon would get over it, as long as he gets to kill something at least once a year. Rickard would require a gentler soothing over.

The Houses Glover, Hornwood, Flint, and Forrester were simply happy to be invited. House Ryswell also brought a not insignificant number of their household. House Dustin however…it appeared that they would send the bare minimum.

Lady Barbery informed him through raven that she would be unable to attend, so therefore would be sending her declared heir in her stead. No doubt both to snub himself, as well as to get her heir out of her way.

Orvyn Dustin was a long-distant cousin to Willam Dustin. Through the Widow's Law, Lady Barbery had been granted the domains of House Dustin until she passed; after her passing, lordship would be granted onto a Dustin, in this case, Orvyn.

Regardless, he would not dwell on it, today was to be one of merriment and celebration. The heir to the North was to be married, and regardless of lost opportunities, all the Northern lords found comfort in that Robb was marrying within the North.

It was almost time for the wedding ceremony. Only a few minutes out. All the guests were gathered in the Godswood, but he found himself in Robb's room, together with Edwyle as well.

"I am so very happy for you Robb. I am glad she is smarter and better than you!" Edwyle teased at the expense of Robb's continued nerves.

Eddard thought it high time to speak to his eldest alone. "Edwyle, return to the Godswood, I must have words with your brother."

Looking between him and Robb, Ed nodded in understanding. He wished his brother luck before leaving the chambers. Eddard waited until he closed the door fully.

"How are you feeling?"

Robb rolled his eyes, though not in sarcasm, but in a sense of being overwhelmed. "I thought I was prepared for this, I thought this would be easy."

He chuckled at that. "So too, did I. When I wed your mother, it was all in such a rush, that it wasn't until your grandfather handed her over to me that it came to me. It crashed upon me like a thousand crashing waves."

He put his hands on each of Robb's shoulders. "You'll be fine. Just remember the words. And when the time comes tonight for you and her to…seal the marriage." Both father and son grimaced at the awkward topic. "Just do what feels natural. Remember, she is your partner, not your subordinate. Tonight is not all about you."

His son nodded before gulping. If he hadn't felt the same way when he was younger, he might even be laughing right now.

"I shall take my leave. I am returning to the weirwood, take a moment." He turned to leave before making one last note. "But do not be too long, a husband does not want to leave his future wife waiting."

Robb

After his father left, he only took a few moments to align himself. Taking some deep breathes, he left the confines of his chambers. Making it out of the keep, he found himself before his father and the rest of his family and the gathered lords of the North beneath the heart tree.

His mother and siblings all looked very proud of him, but his father still had his lord's face. He held Ice with the point on the ground, like he often did with executions.

Sooner than he anticipated, the talking of the lords quieted down when at the end of the makeshift aisle, Dacey appeared, arms linked with her mother's.

Gods' she is beautiful. Her height and build did nothing against Robb, much to the previous fear of Dacey. In fact, he loved her more for it.

Soon, Dacey reached where he and his father were awaiting. Without much fanfare, his father began.

"Who comes before the Gods?"

Lady Maege responded. "Lady Dacey, of House Mormont. A lady grown, trueborn, and noble. Who comes to claim her?"

This time, Robb spoke. "Robb, of House Stark. Heir to Winterfell. Who gives her?"

"Maege, of House Mormont. Her mother."

Turning directly to Dacey, his father spoke.

"Dacey, do you take this man, grown and trueborn, to be your husband?"

Dacey

This was it. All the past weeks, and the rest of her life, led to this moment. This was the last chance to get out of this.

But for some reason…she didn't want to.

"I take this man, before the Gods, as my husband."

Her mother gave her hand to Robb at which point both kneeled 'fore the heart tree.

She heard her goodfather begin to pray.

"May the Old Gods look down favorably on this matrimony. We beseech thee to aid in their lives, and to always watch over them, no matter how far apart or close they are."

At the slight nudge of Robb, they both stood at the same time. The ceremony was already over.

Lord Eddard addressed all the gathered nobles. "Time for the feast!"

Edwyle

The ceremony had been pleasantly quick. Although he had never attended one, he had heard that the wedding ceremonies of the Seven could take hours, with endless songs and prayers and preaching.

By custom, Robb carried his new wife from the Godswood, all the way back to the Great Hall, where the final pieces of the feast were being laid out on the tables.

Watching the two newlyweds was interesting. Despite his original assumption, it seemed that neither was truly uncomfortable. At the moment that is. For the best he hoped, he noticed that Robb and Dacey had found a small friendship in one another. It was his hope that this could sprout into love.

The feast was in full swing. Many of the lords were happy at this ceremony. During the early reign of his father as Lord of Winterfell, House Stark was still in a precarious situation. After father, it was only baby Robb who was left. Uncle Benjen had joined the black brothers.

Now, with a family of four inheritable men, the eldest now married, the Northern lords were far more comfortable in the stability of the kingdom.

Before most of the guests arrived, his father told him to keep an eye open at any of the daughters that the lords would bring with them. Though not even close to being betrothed, his father explained that it was never too earlier to begin, at least, looking.

After some hours of eating and drinking and shouting and arm-wrestling, one of the lords began to speak. At first he didn't know who, but looking up from his tankard, his size could only mean one person.

Lord Jon Umber, the Greatjon.

"Time for the bedding!" He shouted, much to the applause of the rest of the lords.

Originally, he found the entire ting distasteful, but then his mother gave him another perspective. If he didn't participate, who would look after his goodsister's dignity.

As such, as soon as the declaration was made, he jumped up and sprinted for Dacey. Looking up, she was alarmed at the sudden movement, but he just whispered to her.

"Be calm, I shall try to stop the worst."

Dacey, who at Lord Umber's declaration became white-faced, nodded in quiet thanks. At that point, the rush of men finally reached the two. Just as Robb was being carried away by the women, Dacey was by the men.

Edwyle was glad he protected a degree of his goodsister's dignity. They reached Robb's chambers where he was already deposited. Leaving Dacey in the chambers, Edwyle was the last one out.

He couldn't resist a brotherly rib. Leaning into his ear, trying to avoid looking down, he spoke.

"Make me an uncle, Robb."

Robb already nervous about the bedding glared at him before punching him lightly in the stomach and pushing him out of the room.

Edwyle couldn't resist laughing.

*My college is currently in finals week. This will most likely, though not necessarily, be that last chapter updated this week. unless I find some time to procrastinate, I shall probably not update again until the middle of next week.

**The next chapter will finally address the presence of direwolves as well as Lyanna and Robert's Rebellion!