I'd like to start by thanking you for your support!
I really enjoyed writing this chapter and it's my favorite so far. I hope you'll enjoy reading it! But be warned, it's really, really long… Oh, and I wrote most of it on my phone while stuck in traffic so there are probably some silly mistakes even though I proofread it.
"Well? What did he say?" Robb asked his mother urgently as soon as she stepped inside the council tent.
Catelyn took a moment to brush back her hair before replying, well aware he wouldn't be pleased. "Lord Walder has granted your crossing."
"And what does he want in return?" Robb had never met Frey but his reputation preceded him, and he'd never do anything out of the kindness of his heart. He just hoped the price was one he could pay.
"You will be taking in his son Olyvar as your personal squire. He expects a knighthood in good time."
"Fine, fine." He immediately agreed, perhaps having a squire could even be useful. "And?"
"And Arya will marry his son Waldron when they both come of age," Catelyn continued, her lips pursed. She wasn't happy to marry off her younger daughter but if it was necessary to get husband back, she was sure Arya would understand.
"She won't be happy about that." Robb commented, already having made his decision. Yet, his mother's features didn't relax and he instinctively knew there was more. "And?" He asked again, growing agitated.
"And, before you cross, you will marry one of his daughters or granddaughters. Whichever you prefer. He has a number he thinks will be suitable." Catelyn told her son, her contempt for Walder Frey obvious in her voice.
Robb stood still at her words. He had been expecting it all along, Walder Frey was always eager to marry off his numerous offspring but somehow he had managed to push the possibility to the back of his mind. And even then, he thought he'd have some time to get used to the idea, at least until the fighting was done.
"I see," he finally sighed with resignation. "Did you get a look at the Frey girls?" Robb asked quietly as Theon quite indiscreetly sniggered next to him. It wasn't a secret to anyone in Westeros that Walder's daughters weren't exactly blessed with beauty.
"I did," Catelyn nodded readily, wanting to reassure her eldest son. "One was sightly," she said while looking pointedly at Theon. "Do you consent?"
"Can I refuse?"
"Not if you want to cross," she stated with a sad smile. Robb nodded, silently accepting Walder's terms and slowly, everyone started walking out, leaving mother and son alone.
"What is her name?" Robb asked, sitting down again. He looked at the map spread out on the table, his eyes focused on the Green Fork. A wife for a bridge, he thought with little amusement. He wasn't exactly opposed to the idea of marrying – all his life, he knew that as the Lord of Winterfell, he'd have to take a wife. And from Theon's brothel stories and his own couple of experiences, he knew that a woman's company could be very pleasant. But the circumstances did give his impending marriage a bitter taste.
"Narcissa. She is one of his granddaughters," Catelyn explained reassuringly and he found himself pleasantly surprised that her name didn't sound anything like Walder. "But you should meet them all and decide for yourself, Robb," she said, leaning over the table so Robb would be forced to look at her instead of the map. "It will be your wife after all."
"No," he quickly objected. The idea of going in there, meeting them all and having to make his choice based on a few looks and short conversations drove him sick to his stomach. "I trust your judgment, mother." He said before seizing the pitcher and pouring two cups of wine. "What is she like?"
"I only spoke to her shortly," Catelyn admitted after taking a sip. "But she was outspoken and clever."
Robb chuckled curtly at the words. Those weren't exactly the qualities he'd have first sought in a wife. Most likely he'd have chosen someone benevolent and kind. After all, she would be the mother of his children. "And what does she look like?"
Catelyn chuckled at her son's question. She knew he'd ask that, all men did. "She has brown eyes and dark hair that doesn't reach past her shoulders," Catelyn said. That was the first thing she had noticed about the girl. "And with her ample bosom and proportionate hips, I'm certain she's fit to bear children." That was something she paid attention to, knowing of her sister's difficulties in the matter made her wary of her eldest son marrying someone barren.
Robb closed his eyes as if trying to imagine Narcissa in front of him but he couldn't quite picture her and the description sounded too good for one of Walder's granddaughters. Perhaps his mother was lying, but he hoped she wasn't.
-/-/-/-
"What are you doing?" Robb asked groggily after waking up the next morning, propping himself on his good arm to look at her. His shoulder still hurt like hell but he wasn't going to worry her with that.
"Writing a letter to Oberyn Martell," Narcissa replied next to him without looking up from the parchment spread out on her lap, dipping the quill into the inkwell skillfully balanced on her knee. "I'm wishing him a happy nameday among other things." She knew Robb wasn't convinced an alliance between them would work, but had agreed that they had nothing to lose in trying.
She felt his gaze on her as she continued writing and found herself distracted by it. "What are you doing?" She sighed, signing her name at the bottom. Her penmanship wasn't as neat as usual without a proper support, but she couldn't find the portable desk anywhere.
"I was thinking about you, about what you did with your mouth last night," Robb admitted, his gaze falling on the skin that the bedcovers didn't hide from his sight. Theon had told him about Ros doing that to him, but he had never experienced it himself until yesterday and he had to admit that his treacherous friend had been right. It really was something.
Narcissa had panicked after said those three words to her the previous night. He had seen the anxiety in her big brown eyes and reassured her that he wasn't expecting her to say it back, he knew she didn't wear her heart on her sleeve. It wasn't that she didn't love him back, after almost losing him and the worry that came with it, there was no doubt that she did, but saying it out loud like that made her feel too vulnerable and she couldn't get herself to do it. Instead, she had decided to show her affection for him in a different way.
"Glad you enjoyed it," Narcissa smirked, leaping out of bed as naked as on her nameday to go melt some wax and seal the letter. Once again, she felt his stare on her and it would have made her self-conscious if he hadn't repeated numerous times before how beautiful he found her.
"Would you do it again?" Robb asked, the excitement rather obvious in his voice. It seemed the tiredness caused by the medicine had vanished, Narcissa thought.
"Sure," Narcissa replied, dropping some red wax on the parchment and pressing it with the wolf stamp, before turning to look at him and seeing the stunned but hopeful look on his face. "Not now," she laughed out loud. "I just brushed my teeth."
At some point, she left their tent to go deal with war matters while Talisa came by to clean his wound. Everyone seemed to agree that the logical course of action was continuing the sack of the West, even Robb. She didn't quite understand why but he explained to her that as a Warden and a Lord Paramount, not being able to protect your own lands weakened you in the eyes of everyone else. With that in mind, she teamed Umber with Glover, and Mormont with Bolton, figuring out that if they hated each other, they'd be less likely to pair up and go against Robb's orders or hers.
Then she had to deal with Karstark's nagging about the Jaime and Catelyn issue. "Lord Karstark, you should focus on this war," Narcissa sighed, cursing the arrow for hurting Robb and making her deal with this instead of him. "Once we're back North, she'll face trial and receive a proper sentencing. I promise you that."
She stopped by Catelyn's tent to let her know her son was doing better. Her mother-by-law appeared genuinely relieved by the news, just like she had expected. Narcissa didn't condone her actions but she could understand why she had done it. Her youngest sons were undoubtedly dead, her eldest had been severely injured and setting the Kingslayer free seemed like the only way to get her daughters back. It was stupid, yes, but Narcissa had been told mothers sometimes were irrational when it came to their children.
-/-/-/-
"Rest as much as you can today, because tomorrow you're back out there!" Narcissa warned as soon as she entered their tent again and noticed Robb's bandage had already been changed. "I'm done with the whole lot of them." She complained, struggling to keep her balance on one foot to take off her shoes. After her talk with Catelyn, there had been a dispute between some Manderly and Hornwood soldiers, something about stealing armors and in Robb's absence, they had expected her to settle it.
Narcissa was quite sure she wouldn't mind running a keep, or perhaps even the whole North, if, and only if, there was no war and her husband was by her side. A bank seemed like a peaceful walk through a meadow compared to the chaos of war!
Robb chuckled. He knew what she meant. Every day, there was always some new issue on top of everything that was already going on with the war. "I'll take over tomorrow," he promised. As long as he took something for the pain, he'd be able to.
"Good," Narcissa nodded before sitting down on the chair by the desk and resting her feet on his lap. "Now rub my feet," she ordered with a smile and Robb feigned being offended but complied nonetheless.
He tried to tickle her, but quickly found that she wasn't ticklish at all unlike him. He tried keeping it a secret, but couldn't help squirming when she started tickling him. They spent the rest of their day together, something they had never done before. Their 'honeymoon' had been spent in a war encampment, Narcissa pointed out with amusement.
Robb finally found out more about her, as she shared a few stories from her childhood with him. "You're likely the most educated woman in Westeros," he commented after she told him about her different preceptors and her crazy idea as a child, of having a horseless carriage. Then, their talks were followed by some fooling around when Robb lied about his wound and promised her that it barely hurt now.
"This is how our first day as a married couple should have been," he murmured that night when she was comfortably nestled against him.
"Instead, we spent the whole day on horseback." Narcissa laughed, remembering her pain. They had come a long way since then.
-/-/-/-
Narcissa woke up before him the next day, which wasn't surprising given the medicine he was under. She got dressed and then walked out to get a cup of boiling water. It must have really been quite early because camp was practically deserted. With her bounty in hand, she made her way to the tent and quietly brew herself some tea.
The drink burned her throat as it went down but it wasn't because of the temperature of it. Narcissa had barely managed to take a sip when she started coughing into her hand again and splashing it with blood, to the point where she felt like she was choking.
"Are you alright?" She heard Robb's concerned voice coming from the bed and cursed under her breath for having been so loud. Then she plastered a smile on her face and turned around.
"Yes, I just burnt my tongue," Narcissa lied quickly but Robb must have noticed her nervousness if the frown that appeared on his face was anything to go by.
"Is that moon tea?" He asked suspiciously, eyeing the cup in her hand. "You're coughing up blood because of the moon tea, aren't you?" His words took her by surprise. How did he know about that?
Narcissa quickly turned on her heels, surprised by his sudden accusatorily tone. "Maybe, I am not entirely sure," Narcissa replied softly, her brows furrowed as she mixed the drink with a spoon.
"You're not going to deny taking moon tea?!" Robb blurted out with disbelief, sitting up straight in a single movement though he probably shouldn't, considering his recent wound. "You are even drinking it in front of me!"
"Who told you about the moon tea and the coughing?" Narcissa inquired with curiosity, trying to keep her tone levelled, hoping it would keep the situation from escalating.
"Talisa found those herbs when she searched your box for another vial of the antidote," Robb said so quickly, the words almost blurred together. "I told her that she was wrong, that you'd never do that to me-" He didn't finish his sentence, he didn't need to. The veins pulsating in his temples and his flared nostrils were enough indication of his anger.
That little bitch, Narcissa seethed internally thinking about Talisa. "You can't seriously mean to tell me you'd want a child now," Narcissa blurted out but Robb didn't flinch, continuing to glare at her instead. "We are at war. War! You just got wounded by a poison-dipped arrow for Gods' sake!"
"That's exactly why I need a child, an heir!" Robb shouted even louder, towering over her now that he was on his feet. His younger brothers were both missing and Jon was a Snow, not a Stark, he couldn't inherit Winterfell, especially after having taken the Black. He needed an heir.
Narcissa closed her eyes for a couple of seconds, focusing on her breathing before looking at him again. "What you need is to win this war," she said flatly. "And that's what I am trying to help you achieve when I spend my days thinking of possible alliances!"
"I don't need you to act as my political advisor!" His jaw was clenched and she found no warmth in his icy blue stare. "I need you to act as my wife and give me an heir, so that even if I die-"
Narcissa interrupted him before he could utter anymore idiocies. "And then what, Robb? You'd want me to rule as queen regent to a kingdom which is not recognized by anyone but the North and the Riverlands?" She felt her hands shake with anger and the fast drumming of her heart was too loud, but this was a subject she wouldn't compromise on. "What you need to do is talk with the Tyrells, the Martells or even Stannis Baratheon and get yourself an alliance!"
Unlike she had expected, Robb didn't yell back immediately as if truly considering her words. "You're in no position to tell me how to win a war, woman!" He sneered with an authority he had never wielded against her and she found herself laughing nervously.
"You've made a botch of everything but the battles, Robb!" Narcissa stated coldly, leaning against the table. "You are a proficient company commander but you have no head for politics and you won't be able to win the war without learning how to play the game!"
"But you know how to play the game, don't you?" Robb sniggered, tying up his doublet though she hadn't even noticed him get dressed at all. "Lying is in your nature: First about your name and now about this!"
Narcissa stared at him, feeling offended and waiting for him to back his words but he didn't. "If you wanted a broodmare, you should have married one of my aunts or cousins!"
"Maybe I should have," Robb nodded, grabbing his sword by the nightstand.
She stared at him with incredulity as he walked past her to the exit. "Come on, Robb. Don't go, don't be childish!" She yelled after him but he didn't turn around.
Narcissa would never admit it out loud but she felt lonelier than ever the six or seven weeks that followed their argument. She hadn't once talked to Robb since he left the tent during the fight. She had figured that he'd come back after a few hours, having calmed down but he didn't and Narcissa spent the night alone, and the following ones too.
On the fourth night, she wasn't even sure she wanted to see him anymore and decided that an evening playing cards with her friends was what she needed. And yet, when she got back to her tent later that night and found most of Robb's belongings gone, she felt a pang in her chest.
With nothing much to do to fill her days, wine quickly became her best friend during the day and ale during the night when she played cards. "If he doesn't want my counsel, then so be it," Narcissa concluded, filling her glass before opening a book in her lap and reading through the night. And then she'd wake up feeling like hell in the mornings, sick to her stomach before doing it all over again. At least, she had ceased coughing up blood as soon as she stopped drinking moon tea, no longer having use for it.
All she knew about the current state of war at this point, was what Travis, Clive and Edward told her in the evenings. There hadn't been a big battle since Oxcross. Every castle they went, the lords would surrender without a fight. "I think the Lannisters have deserted the West," Clive concluded one night. Knowing this, Narcissa wasn't surprised when they started packing camp in order to go to Harrenhal. Especially now that the Tyrells had sided with the Lannisters, they shouldn't risk remaining by the coast and being trapped on both sides. It also meant that the Martells were now their only potential allies but she hadn't heard of Oberyn yet.
The surprise came when they set camp in Pinkmaiden for a few nights in order to let the men and the horses rest. As usual, Narcissa's tent had been one of the first to be set up, and as usual, she didn't share it with Robb. The only thing which was out of the usual, was the letter she was handed to by one of the messengers on the first morning in Pinkmaiden.
Dear Cissa,
You cannot fathom the happiness I felt after hearing from you again after so much time. I was very angered to read that Walder Frey married you off without your consent but I'm glad that you've managed to find happiness in it. My little Cissa is now a married woman, it makes me feel so old.
Sadly, I cannot match your letter with good news of my own. First, I haven't seen nor heard from Piero and Gloria. I do hope they have simply decided to desert our family and settle down somewhere together.
Second, and I wish you could learn this in another way, but your mother has passed away. She fell asleep one night and her eyes never opened again. Please know that she loved you more than anything else in this world!
She was buried in her favorite dress, the red one, in the family crypt. May her mind now find the peace she deserves.
Do not worry about the sword. I have already lost the first of the only two girls in my life, and I shall not lose the second one, so help me God! As we speak, ninety ships are sailing to Westeros with hired sellswords from the Company of the Rose. I hope this will be sufficient. Please let me know
Narcissa tried reading it to the end but the tears pooling at her eyes obstructed her sight. She closed her eyelids for a few seconds, but the words didn't change once she reopened her eyes.
She stumbled backwards until her thighs collided with the bedpost but she barely noticed the pain. Your mother has passed away.The words repeated themselves in her mind over and over again. She tried to find a second meaning to them, read them in a way that didn't mean her mother was dead but there wasn't another meaning.
Narcissa sat on the bed for what felt like hours, pinching the skin on her palm to keep herself from crying as she tried remembering the last time she had truly spoken with Amara without success. Slowly, sadness turned to anger as she realized that this was all her fault. If she hadn't gambled, she wouldn't have gone to Westeros and could have said goodbye. She hadn't been able to tell her mother she loved her one last time because of a bloody sword and her own stupidity.
With newly gained energy, she headed over to her trunk and took out the Valyrian Steel blade. It felt heavier than she remembered, her right arm shaking as she tried to hold up it straight in front of her. "Amara" The carved letters glistened in front of her and she felt the unexplainable need to throw it away, as far as she possibly could. Yet, the hilt never left her grip. Instead, she raised her left hand and brought it to the tip of the blade, pressing it against the pointy end until a thick burgundy liquid started dripping and then flowing out of her palm.
She stared at it for a while, waiting for the pain but she felt nothing. She remembered sobbing the first time she had scraped her knees on the marble stairs or when Lorenzo had broken her finger, but now there was no pain, only spite and bitterness.
Without bothering to cover up the wound, Narcissa walked out of her tent, dragging the sword behind herself. She wasn't used to the new camp outline but it seemed anger improved her orientation and soon enough she found herself at the very edge where men were cutting and splitting wood for the fires. They all stopped to look at her but neither them nor her said a word as she struggled to drag a large chunk of wood away from the pile and place it on a tree stump. She stared at it for a moment and then grabbed the hilt of her sword, her hands slippery with blood and bringing it above her head for a second before driving it down into the wood with all her strength. To her sarcastic amusement, it didn't split right in half like she expected it to. Instead, the blade was stuck and she had to fight to remove it.
"Your Grace," a man said carefully, slowly approaching her from her side. "You are hurting yourself." He said, stretching out of his hand to grab the sword but Narcissa quickly pulled away.
"Leave me be," she said steadily, not a yell but loud enough to be heard before lifting up the sword and driving it down on the wood once more. "That's an order."
Narcissa didn't have to raise her gaze to know that the fellers were looking between themselves with hesitation. She was ready to shout at them but they complied before she had too. She drove the sword through the chunk a few more times, the muscles in her arms painfully strained now but she found enjoyment in it. She had failed miserably as a daughter and she deserved to suffer for that.
"Narcissa!"
She recognized his voice immediately, she would have recognized it among the loudest crowds. Without even being aware she had commanded her body to, she found herself lifting her head to look at him. He was jogging up to her despite being clad in his armor, his curls bouncing around his face.
"What is going on?" He panted, once he was only a six or seven feet away from her. His gaze fell to her hands which were entirely red by now. "What are you doing?" Robb asked with weakly disguised horror as he approached his wife.
Narcissa stared at him with panic as he came closer and without thinking, she drew the sword at him. Her arm was shaking heavily at this point but she forced herself to keep it upright. Robb stopped in his tracks. He was surprised but most of all, he was hurt by her reaction.
"Go away!" She hissed, struggling to fight back the tears. She was barely coming to terms with the fact that she had failed as a daughter and each time she looked at him, only reminded her that she had also failed as a wife.
"Cissa, let go of your sword and we can talk," he pleaded, taking a few steps until the tip of her sword touched his breastplate. His hand went to push it away but Narcissa fought to keep in place.
"Go away, Robb," she implored with sadness though her tone sounded much harsher. Robb didn't move away, instead he kept staring at her with his Tully blue eyes in the hopes she would meet his gaze. "Go away before I cut you, Robb!" She ordered, lifting the sword the tip grazed his chin.
Narcissa looked at his face then. She had expected to find anger, but instead there was only hurt and sadness, and it made her feel even worse than before. She would never intentionally wound him, but at this point in their relationship, he wasn't sure of it anymore. He had hoped he'd be able to understand what was going on by looking at her, but her expression was blank as she pointed her weapon at him.
She watched him take a few steps back before turning around and walking away. A part of her wanted to beg him to come back and take her in his arms but she couldn't muster the strength to do it. She didn't deserve the warmth of his embrace.
-/-/-/-
"They deserted their lands entirely, but for Casterly Rock," Roose Bolton commented, stating the obvious and yet everyone nodded all the same.
"And they're sacking the Riverlands again," Rickard Karstark added, grabbing a wooden lion from the table and throwing it against the canvas.
Olyvar went around the tent, pouring everyone more wine but Robb covered his glass with his hand. His brain was already playing him tricks and alcohol wouldn't help. He knew he ought to focus on the heated discussion, listen to his advisors and share his own ideas, and yet, all he could think about was Narcissa.
Robb had been the one to walk away from the argument, too angry then to continue talking. First, there had been Theon. Then, there was his mother who to this day, was still confined in her tent, both as a punishment and as a safety measure. It was no secret that some of his men, Lord Karstark especially, wanted her head. And to top it all, he had found out his wife had secretly been drinking moon tea behind his back.
He absentmindedly noticed Maege Mormont standing up and hammering her fist on the table, trying to get everyone to shut up but he didn't even know what they had been talking about in the first place.
He was still angry at Narcissa for that, but he no longer felt like he might raise his hand against her. That was why he had run out in the first place when he felt the anger boil inside him. And when he came back a few nights later to talk it out, he had found the tent empty and decided to retrieve his belongings. He'd thought that after a few weeks they might have cooled down sufficiently to discuss matters. Instead, she had threatened him with a sword just a few hours ago.
It hurt. Not physically, the blade had barely touched his chin but it hurt deeper. Despite their rocky start, he had grown to love her the way a husband should love his wife. And she, she had refused to give him a child before drawing a sword at him.
"Do you agree, your Grace?" Lord Umber asked, loud enough to bring him back from his thoughts.
"What?" Robb blurted, quickly straightening up in his chair. How long had they been in here already? At least five hours if not more, he was sure of that.
"We think it would be best to send ahead some scouts to Harrenhal so we know what to expect, your Grace," Lord Bolton said, his irritation barely hidden. Ever since his injury and Narcissa temporarily taking over, Bolton seemed snappier than before.
"Send two hundred men." Robb ordered, wanting to end this meeting as quickly as possible.
Slowly, the tent started emptying out and Robb allowed himself to close his eyes for a few seconds. He felt tired even though there hadn't been a proper battle in what felt like ages and he actually found himself craving a proper fight.
Sleeping in a tent among his soldiers wasn't the most comfortable thing, but he had found his men to appreciate his presence in a way that made the barriers between the lords and the commoners crumble.
But that wasn't the only reason why he wasn't sleeping well. He has won every battle and yet he was losing the war. Not only was the victory slipping away from his hands but his family was falling apart. His father was dead, his men were calling for his mother's head, his brothers were most likely dead and his sisters were still prisoners. And now, he didn't even have his wife to go to. He hadn't noticed how much he needed her and her steadiness, until it was gone. Narcissa had been right, Robb mused with no amusement, he really had botched everything but the battles.
"How am I supposed to be a good King when I can't even hold my family together?" Robb groaned, holding his head in his hands, barely aware that words had escaped his mouth at all.
"You already are a good King, your Grace." A womanly voice said in a foreign accent, making him raise his head, hoping it would be his wife despite the different voice.
Instead, Talisa stood by the entrance, her long brown hairs flowing freely past her waist. "Thank you, Lady Maegyr," Robb finally said, once he came to terms with the disappointment. He should have known it wouldn't be Narcissa, she didn't need him as much as he needed her. "Can I help you with something?" He asked, eyeing the tall woman as she made her way around the table to him.
"Please call me Talisa," she said a little too coyly before sitting down on a chair in front of him. "After hours of discussing war tactics with your commanders, I thought your Grace might appreciate a different kind of company."
Robb forced himself to smile at her. It's not that he disliked Talisa. They had spoken a few times since she had tended to his wounds. While he was still recovering, he even once tried making Narcissa jealous, telling her how Talisa had been a very attentive nurse but his wife had merely laughed at him. "If you'd prefer her over me, I wouldn't even feel jealous. I'd feel sorry for your lack of judgment." She had replied.
He listened to Talisa as she recounted the story of how a slave had saved her brother from drowning, which in turn, made her want to leave the slave cities once she came of age and do something more useful with her life than planning balls and masquerades. At some point, Robb actually found himself somewhat interested by her story. "I'm sorry, your Grace," she said, standing up abruptly. "I'm certain you have more important problems to deal with and I blabbered on." Talisa apologized though she made no move to walk away.
"I'm afraid you wouldn't be able to help me with any of my problems, Talisa." Robb said with an apologetic smile, pouring himself some wine after all.
"Perhaps I could help you forget them for a while, your Grace." Talisa simpered, making him frown with confusion until he saw her untie the laces on the back of her dress.
He should have said something then, told her to stop or thrown her out altogether but her grey dress was already pooling at her feet before any words could leave his mouth. She stood naked in front of him, and he wouldn't deny her being attractive even though he knew it was wrong.
"What are you doing?" Robb murmured despite already knowing the answer. Even if he hadn't, the way she strolled over to him and sat down on his lap was more than explicit. Talisa took his hands and placed them on her waist before leaning forward to kiss him.
It felt different without the taste of wine on her lips. Narcissa always tasted of wine. Talisa was insistent too, grabbing the back of his neck to pull him closer to her. Robb wanted to push her away, he knew he should, but closing his eyes, he could imagine it was Narcissa kissing him and rocking her body against his. How he missed her, kissing her, touching her. He missed the simple feel of having her close to him, the goose bumps that appeared on her skin after his touch. His grip on her waist tightened as the kiss deepened until he lifted one of his hands to fist her hair but it felt too long under his fingers, making him reopen his eyes. He stared at Talisa with horror, pulling back from their kiss as he realized what he had just done.
Robb pushed Talisa off him forcefully, making her stumble backwards with surprise. He stood up from his chair as if he had been burnt and glared at the nurse with disgust. "I never want to lay eyes on you again, Lady Maegyr," Robb sneered, walking away from her as fast as he could. "That's a warning."
The cold air of the night hit his face as soon as he stepped outside. He welcomed it, even hoping that it would help him forget what had just happened but he wasn't that lucky. How he could have kissed Talisa when he was in love with his wife, was beyond him. Even if they had barely spoken in over a moon, Narcissa was his and he had no excuse to disrespect her like her that.
As if on cue to make him feel even more guilty, Robb saw Clive, one of Narcissa's friends, hurriedly walk over to him. Did he know what just went on in the council tent? Was he there to punch him in the face? Maybe Robb would let him.
"It's about your wife," Clive announced, with no regard for formalities.
"What about her?" Robb asked immediately, a mixture of guilt and worry now taking over him.
"She received a letter this morning – her mother passed away."
-/-/-/-
Her left hand was wrapped in a white bandage. There was a small red stain on the gauze but it hadn't grown larger in hours. Now that the rage was gone, she had to admit that it did hurt, especially as she fastened the laces of her black dress. It was the only black dress she had taken with her from Florence. The shade always made her look ghostly and she found that black kept her too warm, but it was the color of mourning.
The wine pitcher was already half-way empty when her friends joined her in her tent that evening. Clive looked like an elephant in a porcelain shop as he took in his surroundings. It was the first time she had invited them to her tent, usually it was the other way around but tonight, she didn't want to step out and let the others see the purple circles around her eyes. She didn't know much of what been a queen entailed, but she was quite sure appearing strong was one of the prerequisites.
Narcissa asked to have the food brought in and Travis made a point of serving her before himself. She appreciated the gesture though she wasn't really hungry. In all honesty, she had only asked them over because she didn't want to be alone tonight. And thankfully, they knew better than to comment on her appearance.
The four of them chatted together, mostly about the war. Edward was higher ranked in Umber's army so he had some knowledge of what was going on. "The Lannisters have entirely withdrawn from the West and they're attacking the Riverlands again," Edward said between two bites. "The Mountain has seized control of the Stone Mill."
Narcissa was glad to listen to the updates. Since her fight with Robb, she was no longer aware of the current state of affairs and now, it actually proved a welcome distraction. "If the Mountain crosses the Red Fork, he will be surrounded by the Starks and the Tullys." She commented, trying to picture the map in front of her.
"That is what his Grace intends to do," Edward nodded. To Narcissa, hearing that only meant that Robb didn't need her.
They finished their meal in silence before Narcissa took out the deck of cards and they started playing. She was trying to count the cards in her head, to memorize which ones had already been played but her mind wasn't being as efficient as usually.
"Why are you dressed all in black?" Travis asked boldly as Clive shuffled the cards. They all looked up at her. Perhaps neither Clive nor Edward would have dared asking it, but they had both noticed.
Narcissa bit her lips, wondering if she should lie but she couldn't come up with a good reason to. "I received a letter this morning," she said flatly. "It said that my mother passed away."
They all immediately offered her their condolences and Narcissa was forced to smile weakly, uncomfortable with the attention and the way they were now tiptoeing around her. The next few rounds were played in silence and she regretted confiding in them. She had hoped for distraction, not a pity party.
"I remember when my mother died," Clive said after a silence so long, his low voice felt like a shout. "My wife could barely disguise her joy," he said, laughing and the mood slowly lifted again. She found out Clive was the father of two children, a boy and a girl. Edward had just gotten married a couple of days before the war and he left his wife with his parents when he went South.
Narcissa found herself listening intensely to their stories. She knew countless soldiers had already died and many more would still die, but she had never dwelled on the fact that these men were more than just numbers. She only hoped that her friends would return home safely.
"I apologize but it's getting a little too late for me," Clive said at some point, standing up. "Anyone would be lucky to have you in their lives, your Grace," he added with a smile. "I'm sure your mother would be proud of you."
Narcissa couldn't help the frightened look that appeared on her face when she realized she would be left alone for the night as Edward stood up as well and left the tent with Clive. From the corner of her eye, she watched as Travis walked up to the exit but much to her surprise, his simply shut the flap as to keep the wind from getting in before joining her at the table again.
"Thank you, Travis," she whispered and he gave her a small smile. They went on talking about everything and anything, and Narcissa knew if he was only staying to keep her company despite most likely being tired, but she appreciated the gesture all the same and decided to pour them some more wine when she noticed the pitcher was empty.
Without a word, she stood up and went to grab another one from the desk. Her arm still hurt but she was determined not to let it show. Narcissa was just about to tilt it over the cups when she felt a hand on her waist, making her jump. On instinct, she turned around only to be met with Travis' lips on her own. She almost let the pitcher fall with surprise until her brain was able to process what was going on and she pulled away from Travis, her back hitting the desk.
"What are you doing?" She whispered, brushing back the few strands of hair that had fallen on her face and setting the pitcher down.
Travis was eyeing her intensely with his grey eyes and Narcissa found that he looked different, though she couldn't pinpoint what exactly was different. "I am finally kissing the woman I love," he murmured before closing in the distance between them and cupping her face to kiss her again.
Narcissa was startled by his action even though he had moved slowly. She had the time to move away but didn't, but couldn't find it in herself to do it. His lips were gentle and she enjoyed the way she felt loved beneath them. The entire day she had spent hating herself and now someone was loving her. It was exactly whom she wanted to be loved by, but after such a day, she'd take anything. Closing her eyes, she grabbed the collar of his shirt to pull him closer. Travis moaned under her lips, sliding his hand down her body until it reached the small of her back and pulled her closer to him. Narcissa didn't protest as they tumbled against the desk, the pitcher and the glasses making a rattling noise.
His lips left hers, moving lower to kiss her neck instead. Narcissa shut her eyes tightly, waiting for the familiar feeling of the beard brushing over her skin but there was nothing. She moved her hand up his neck only to feel straight strands beneath instead her fingers of curls and stopped dead in her tracks. As she realized what was happening, she pushed him away with all her strength. Travis had a confused look on his face when he stared at her, panting.
"This is wrong and should never have happened." She stated quietly yet firmly, regaining her breath. "I am married to your King," Narcissa whispered, thinking about Robb as guilt took over her mind.
"A King who hasn't shared your bed in weeks," Travis objected with a clenched jaw. "You haven't even spoken to each other in ages!"
"That doesn't change anything." Narcissa protested, grabbing at the desk's edge behind her until her knuckles turned white and she could feel blood leaking from her wound again.
"Look at how miserable he left you," Travis argued, vaguely gesturing at her as anger rose in his voice. "Do you think I haven't noticed how you drink yourself to sleep every night? How you are always sick in the mornings because of that?"
Narcissa could faintly hear him continue his rant but she was no longer paying attention. He was wrong. She didn't drink herself to sleep every night. Yes, she always had a cup or two with her supper but not enough to make her feel sick in the mornings, not with her built up tolerance for alcohol. And yet he was right, she did start most of her days crouched over the chamber pot. She closed her eyes to focus and counted back the weeks since she had last bled, only to notice with shock that she didn't even remember anymore.
"Leave." She ordered softly, when she realized what that meant and panic began to spread in her body. The back of her neck was starting to feel very warm and she felt sick all over again just to think about it.
"I'm not leaving," Travis refused, looking at her with worry now. "You deserve to be loved," he said as he moved closer to her once more.
"Leave!" She said again, more strongly through clenched teeth. Leave or I might just throw up on you, she wanted to say.
"You heard your Queen," Robb's voice thundered in the small tent, startling them both. Narcissa turned to look at her husband, feeling like she might actually faint. She was equally relieved and scared to see him there.
Travis eventually pulled away from her and Robb couldn't decide if he should throw him out himself or simply behead him. The lean soldier brushed past him on his way out but Robb only had eyes for his wife at this point. She looked shaken and he wondered with anger if that man had tried to force himself on her but Narcissa slowly shook her head, as if she had heard his thoughts.
She tried to keep herself from trembling, but failed miserably. She could never have expected to find out on the same day, that her mother had died and that she, herself, would be a mother. "What are you doing here, Robb?" She asked, her voice too quiet to hide her the turmoil inside her.
Robb stared at her silently with concern. Narcissa, who was always so steady and level-headed, was fighting to keep herself upright against the desk. He wanted to approach her, take her in his arms but he wasn't sure she'd let him after their altercation this morning. "Clive told me about your mother," Robb confessed softly, afraid that he'd scare her if he spoke too loud. "I'm sorry, Narcissa. I'm so sorry for your loss."
He knew firsthand how overwhelming it was to lose a parent, especially without being able to say goodbye. But Narcissa being Narcissa, he hadn't expected to find her on the brink of falling apart. He had seen her happy, worried, angry even, but now she just looked vulnerable.
"Your words won't bring her back but I appreciate it," Narcissa almost whispered, giving him a sad smile. She then looked at him for a long time, as if hoping that he'd understand what was going on inside her with just a look, a stare but Robb seemed as confused as she felt. "You'll be happy to know that your ships and your men an on their way." She added, with closed eyes, trying to forget what she really wanted to say.
Narcissa didn't hear him move at all until she felt his arms around her, hugging her. "I don't care about that, Narcissa. I care about you." Robb said and carefully wedged her head against his torso, cradling her. He couldn't help the smile that crossed his lips as he felt her shorter hair between his fingers instead of the obnoxiously long strands. He had expected her to sob but she remained absolutely still against him, to the point where he wondered if she had somehow managed to fall asleep on her feet.
She pulled away from him when he no longer expected her to even be awake. She lifted her chin, forcing herself to look at him and almost cried with happiness when she saw his familiar blue eyes. He was the only constancy in her life at this point and Narcissa found herself longing for him after so much time.
"Fuck me." She eventually said, louder than she had intended to.
"What?" Robb stared at her, his brows furrowed as if she had just grown a second head and it made her chuckle despite everything that was going on, despite having just found out the moon tea hadn't worked.
"Fuck me, Robb," she repeated boldly, closing in the space between them. Robb was still dumbfounded at her choice of words when he felt her fingers swiftly undo his the laces of his breeches and shirt at the same time. "Fuck me until I can no longer think."
It took him a second to process what she was asking of him but when he did, he didn't waste any time before lifting her off the ground and carrying her to bed, their bed. It felt like a sin, taking her forcefully like that when she appeared so defenseless but the gentler he tried to be, the more she pressed him to go harder and eventually, he obeyed.
Their foreheads touched as he rammed into her as if their lives depended on it, and the way it made him feel, his life most likely did. He had longed for her for so long, he could barely believe he was feeling her beneath him, around him again. At some point, he noticed a single tear sliding down her cheek, making him immediately go still when it reminded him of their wedding night when he had hurt her. Only this time, she locked her ankles against his butt and pulled him down for a kiss, urging him to move again until she couldn't focus on anything but the overwhelming sensation in her lower belly.
So, I didn't lie: It was really, really long.
Let me know if you enjoyed it! I am especially curious to know your opinions of this chapter because I liked writing it a lot. Don't forget to comment :)