Robb

He couldn't have been more pleased that the royal family had finally left. A shadow had fallen over Winterfell in the time that they had been there and he was glad that they had gone and… Well, he would have thought he'd be seeing a lot more of Lady Jeyne, but she'd been ill in her chambers for nearly a week. He'd respected the request for no visitors, but with each passing day he felt as if he were being pulled toward her door. Finally, he was outside of it despite the fact that he knew it probably wasn't among his best ideas.

His hand froze just before knocking, reconsidering his decision. Greywind decided for him, letting out a long a baleful yowl before pawing at the door with his claws. Robb withdrew his hand suddenly as if it had been lit on fire. The door cracked open and the pale shadow of Lady Jeyne was standing in the frame. Before she could stop him, Greywind had already slipped through the door and into her chambers. This was the second time Robb had caught her in a less than suitable predicament. She was in a thin chemise, a silken scarf around her slender shoulders and her light blonde hair down for the first time.

"Oh, I thought you were-" her head turned to trail after ghost and she hastily reached up to pull her scarf closer to her neck. Robb caught sight of what she was trying to hide before hand, the fading purple and yellow marks against her throat. Her chemise sleeve billowed down and revealed a bandage around her arm. "Uh, Greywind. Greywind please," she left the door ajar as she tried to corral the wolf back to the door.

An injured arm and throat? Was that why she had been avoiding coming out of her room? It would be difficult to hide the marks on her pale milky throat. "How did that happen?" he stepped past the threshold of the door and into her chambers. Despite how many days she had spent in her room, it was absolutely immaculate, as if no one had been living in there at all. The bed was neatly arranged, the chair on a particular angle with the fireplace, the desk without a piece out of place.

Jeyne had bent down to touch Greywind, the direwolf turning his massive head up to lick her cheek. Robb's heart fluttered as she turned her head up toward him, her pale tendrils of hair falling out of her soft face. Not as neatly collected as he was accustomed to, Robb found that the Arryn was particularly striking when she had the mask put aside.

"I was going to tell you," she began, burying her fingers in Greywind's fur. "Once I was healed."

"Why not before?" he got down beside her to look at the markings. This was not an accident, he could see the welts where fingers had curled against her throat. Heat rose in his chest, a deep bitter anger than someone had dared to hurt her. How could anyone lay a hand on a lady?

"I didn't want you to be worried," she offered lamely.

"Be worried? I was worried when you didn't leave your chambers for a week, that's why I'm here my lady," Robb told her.

Jeyne cocked a cynical look at him. "Still the formalities even though you've entered my chambers with me less than decent," she mused, standing up and pushing her hair aside.

Robb felt his cheeks burn at the note, realizing that she was correct. He'd stepped into Jeyne's room without thinking much of what it might look like. "You still haven't answered my original question… Jeyne."

"That's more like it," she smiled before sitting on the edge of her bed, reaching up and touching her throat the whimsical expression faded and there was a forlorn one. "I…" she paused unable to speak further as her fingers slid down her skin and into her lap. Her hand clenched into a fist, knuckles whitening before she exhaled a furious breath. "I needed the time to collect myself."

Robb had rarely ever seen her as anything more than collected and as consummately groomed at her room. She was darting around the answer, unwilling to fold before him. He admired the trait, trying to be strong in the face of adversity, but how deeply she had been wounded went deeper than skin. She had confined herself, willingly locked herself in a cage so she didn't have to explain herself. Falcons were not meant to be caged. By the way her arm was bandaged, someone had to have known what happened. His mind slipped back to his mother and realized that the woman probably knew. She had not shared any information with him and perhaps that had been wise, despite how much Robb yearned to know what truly conspired. Jeyne had to tell him herself.

"Can we go riding?" she asked him abruptly, her pale eyes focusing on him.

"Perhaps we can make an arrangement," Robb proposed, releasing Greywind from his grasp and standing up. The direwolf padded over to Jeyne, placing his head on her knee. He averted his eyes to preserve her modesty, the chemise only fell so low and when she sat it revealed her calves and bare feet.

"Arrangement?" Jeyne mused lightly.

"In exchange for taking you riding, I wish to know what happened to you a week ago," Robb offered, wondering if it had been too bold of a request. She could easily decline and that would be the end of it. She was quiet for a moment, drawing his eyes back to see what she was doing.

Fierce eyes met his and he was taken aback by the hot blue fire that burned in them like she had been challenged to a duel. "I agree," she said finally, easing Greywind's head off her leg. Even if she was a petite woman, when she held her chin stern and set her eyes, she held an air of regality that outstripped her stature. "Now if you could please step out so I can get prepared..."

Robb breathed a laugh and nodded, motioning for Greywind to follow him out into the hall. Now that the Guest House was vacant of the royal party, there were fewer souls milling around that might have espied him entering an unmarried lady's chambers. Exhaling a small breath, Robb leaned against the wall and waited, wondering if he should change. He'd chosen to wear the leathers and linens of his typical ensemble, a fur trimmed cloak, all of which were muted blacks and dark browns.

Lady Jeyne did not take too long, much less time than he'd once spent waiting for Sansa to get prepared. Unlike her typical sky blue gowns, she'd chosen a navy blue cotton dress that was bustled at the waist with a brown leather cincher. The skirt opened in the front by a slid to allow for comfortable riding without the skirt coming up. With each step, leather trousers revealed themselves tight against her legs, tucked into a pair of high riding boots. Jeyne had her bow and quiver slung over her shoulder, leather vambraces that were inscribed with the flying falcon of House Arryn, along with archery gloves with the first three fingertips of her dominant hand vacant of fabric to better grasp fletchings.

Her hair had a few braids knitted away from her face before being twisted up into a high ponytail that spilled down her back like a pale waterfall. Her lashes flickered and she caught Robb staring, as he'd never seen such an ensemble before. "My lord," she greeted mockingly with a mischievous smirk, stepping past him and toward the stairs. Greywind followed her immediately, making Robb frown at his direwolf's affection for her. Then again, Greywind could have hated her and that would have been another issue on its own.

Her neck was hidden by the high black fur collar of her gown and her arm tied beneath a vambrace. This was not a Jeyne he had seen yet, but he had heard of the stories how she had reigned in the wildling Hilld Tribes. He assumed she hadn't done it dress meant for court or castles. If Arya caught sight of her, he knew that she'd demand the same outfit and a bow just as stellar.

"Are you expecting the ride to be dangerous?" Robb asked her as they stepped out into the yard, taking a hard right for the stables.

"Can never be too prepared," she shrugged.

The stables smelled as they always did. Of stale hay, leather from the tacts that were hung, and the muck at the bottom of stalls that had yet to be cleaned. Jeyne ambitiously went for her staddle, hefting it up and over her shoulder before she staggered toward the stall that held her palomino. Robb watched for a few amused moments, watching as she struggled to open the door to the stall.

Robb approached and lifted the saddle of her shoulder, met with a cold look, though it probably weighed half of what she did. She didn't say anything, sliding the door open to that palomino that cantered forward to meet them. Tossing his white mane he shoved his nose into her chest, insisting on being pet. His golden coat rippled beautifully, glinting in the light as Robb came round to saddle him.

"Thank you," Jeyne relinquished finally, adjusting the straps to her horse before she tied her quiver down and slid her bow into the holster on the saddle. "Alester," she guided the bit into his mouth and stepped up confidently onto the stirrup, tossing her leg over and getting comfortable in her seat before edging him forward. "I'll wait outside for you."

Jeyne led Alester out of the stables and left Robb to go saddle his shire gelding. Not as lean and lithe at the palomino, but a huge bay draught destrier of which there were few horses of similar girth and size. Horses in the north had to be sturdy and whle many of the horses were draught horses, the shires were among the largest. Most preferred the smaller ones, seeing that they could be more agile, but Robb liked how Dorren did not balk or spook. The beast was sure footed and resilient, able to go longer than any of the slight horses. He wasn't particularly fast, but it would take more than a sword to bring Dorren down.

Greywind gave the horse a weary glance, but the gelding didn't mind him, in fact Dorren ignored him completely. Swishing his black tail irritably before Robb finished securing the equipment on him. He adjusted his sword before he stepped into teh stirrup and swung his leg up, settling into the saddle before he nudging Dorren toward the exit.

Arya was already there, petting Alester the palomino on the nose, who was eager to have some attention. "He has a beautiful coat," Arya noted as he pushed his white nose into her face and lipped some of her dark hair.

"Thank you, perhaps later I'll meet you in the yard for practice?" Jeyne suggested, Arya taking notice that Robb was coming up behind her.

He gave his sister a stern look, challenging her to ask to ride with them. Arya got the hint, a devious smile unfurling across her face as she nodded eagerly. "I'd like that. Better go to my lesson before I'm late again," she muttered darkly before waving to them and bumbling through the yard in her skirt that had been dragged through the dirt.

"She didn't give you any trouble, did she?" Robb asked, watching as his sister disappeared into the distance, turning a corner sharply and nearly falling as she tripped on her skirt.

"Arya?" Jeyne seemed taken aback. "Of course not. She's a good girl."

Robb scoffed at her. "Your definition of good is quite skewed, my lady."

Jeyne leveled a cynical expression at him. "My definition of good doesn't just apply to those who follow the rules. She's a bit wild, but she's honest, which is a trait that few are willing to betray. I put little faith behind gilded words and pretty smiles, sometimes those who seem demure are the most dangerous."

He'd never met a demure woman that had given him any reason to be weary. Jeyne feigned being coy at times, but it was a mocking interpretation, she was not shy or soft spoken. Quite the opposite actually. Perhaps that was what drew him toward her, her articulate and concise demeanor, her intelligence and courtesy, and even the games she played when no one else was looking. None of the other ladies he'd met were so bold without being unrefined.

Smiling at the look he gave her, he guided Dorren forward. "Where did you wish to ride today, my lady?" another surly glance widened his grin.

"The wolfswood perhaps?" Jeyne suggested bringing Alester beside him.

Robb nodded and led the way to the hunter's gate behind the kennels that led directly toward the wolfswood. There was a larger gate that popped out a little bit southern of the wood, but he saw no harm in bringing her through the tunnel and out past the walls of Winterfell. Gates were raised and they trotted out into the grassy moors that surrounded the garrison. The trees had all been cleared around Winterfell's circumference, tall grass growing over the lolling hills. The dark trees spanned in the horizon about a couple miles off.

Jeyne glanced back at him and with a devilish smile she dug her heels into her palomino and raced toward the trees. Greywind sailed after her and Robb was the laggard, pressing close to Dorren's neck as he tried to usher his shire horse forward. As expected, Jeyne's spry horse sailed ahead of him like a golden bolt, her hair whipping behind her as she bunched her legs and leaned in to divert him slightly toward the wolfswood. He had suspected she was a good rider, but he hadn't the chance to witness it. He'd yet to witness any lady ride with such haste and Jeyne kept her seat with ease.

Robb was the one who was jostled by Dorren's galloping over the uneven hills of the moors. She and Greywind pressed ahead significantly and made it to the edge of the forest well before he did. When he arrived he slowed Dorren to see that Alester was pacing the edge with Jeyne stretching her shoulders on his back. The palomino's chest heaved from the effort, but the creature's eyes glinted with excitement, having not been ridden for a couple of weeks.

It would have been a perfect day if not for the overcast sky, which was typical around Winterfell. The autumn rains would be rapidly approaching, the last fleeting shreds of summer leaving them. In their path were the thick trunks of hawthorn and ironwood trees, a few black brier and soldier pines dotting themselves among the edge.

Robb nodded to the main game trail that was wide enough for two horses. Greywind took point, padding at the head as they flanked each other. Robb had always loved the wolfswood, even if the nights were filled with the ceaseless howling of the native wolves. Some found it to be chilling and disconcerting, but he thought it was familiar. Much of the wolfswood was still made up of rolling hills, inclines, twisted roots, and stones half buried in the dirt. When he had gone riding with the King Robert, he'd thought that he was going to break his horse's leg. Horses that were unfamiliar with the terrain were prone to such accidents.

Alester moved around deftly and Robb realized that the horse typically had to deal with the precarious rocks of the mountains in the Vale.

"So," Robb began, glancing over at her neck. "What happened?"

Jeyne kept her eyes forward, fingers tightening on her reins as she exhaled a bitter breath. "You know how I am not too keen of the crown prince, correct?" she began, Robb feeling his own fingers flex at what she was playing at. He didn't interrupt her, but he felt rage boil in his stomach. If Steffon wanted a fight, he could give it to Robb, but Jeyne hadn't deserved to be hurt. "I was on a walk the day the the royal family was due to depart. Steffon found me and I tempted his anger. The infamous Baratheon fury," she muttered, unable to look at him. "His behavior became obsessive when we were children, right before I was sent back to the Eyrie. I don't know if he's delusional or mad, but he actually believes I have some sort of feelings for him. He implored me to go back to King's Landing with them and I refused vehemently.

"In light of my discordance he grabbed me before proceeding to tell me that I'd change my mind. As if slamming me against a tree by my throat was going to help," she muttered, rubbing the arm that had been injured subconsciously.

"He..." Robb's words turned to ashes in his mouth and he turned his horse, bringing Dorren in front of Alester to halt her completely. "Jeyne why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I knew it would elicit this sort of reaction," she told him sternly, gesturing to his rise.

"He hurt you Jeyne. Prince or not he should have answered for what he did," Robb insisted.

"And what would have happened? I've already been once before that I've overreacted when Steffon attacked me. No one believed me aside from my father. Do you know what that's like? He's the prince! It's his word against mine and my father's not here anymore," she snapped back, her cheeks turning pink. Realizing she'd lost her temper she turned her eyes into the trees. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to lash out at you."

She was hurting, even then he noticed the way she drew her injured arm closed to her like a broken wing. The fact she'd even allowed this much was a gesture of extreme trust. The bitterness that he'd felt for not being told sooner, fled. "I believe you. My father would believe you. My mother believed you."

Jeyne glanced back at him tentatively.

"I promised to protect you while you were in Winterfell. If I had known how dire the situation was, I would have had Greywind go everywhere with you. I didn't think he'd lay hands on you," the words came from between his grit teeth. His suspicions of his cousin's jaded personality were even more blatant now. To think that the first evening in Winterfell, Robb had just thought it odd that Steffon was trying to get Jeyne to leave her room.

"I didn't think he'd do it either. I shouldn't have put it past him, he's an adult now and much larger than I am," she mumbled ruefully.

"Don't blame yourself," Robb scowled. "No man has the right to hurt you."

Jeyne let out a soft, almost pitiful laugh before glancing back up at him. "If only it were that simple," she told him, tugging at his heartstrings from the look she was giving him.

"You're safe now and Steffon is certainly not welcome back to Winterfell if he can't treat a lady civilly," Robb was staying his tongue for her sake, because if he expressed how he really felt then he'd had to condemn himself for speaking so poorly in her company.

"How you can refuse a prince harbor is he travels north is beyond me," Jeyne said lightly, steering Alester around him and back down the path. "We came here for riding. I upheld my end of the bargain."

Trying to deflect, Robb thought before nodding, unable to stop himself from smiling. Dwelling on the subject was bringing out a side of Jeyne that he didn't like to see. Not because he thought it unbecoming of her, but due to the fact that he couldn't do anything but try and fix it with his words. He was no poet or singer and offering her a shoulder was too intimate for how long they had known each other. We've known each other for years. It's just been a long time.

A long enough time that she had bloomed into a lovely, clever, and admirable woman. How could he have known that the blonde falcon that came north with his cousins would be more than the bookworm with messy hair? He had recalled how she had never combed it, put it in any fashion, and left it down and staticy. She'd sit out in the yard with a new book on her lap everyday, sneaking away from the septa that accompanied her, somewhat like Arya. He even remembered Theon stealing her book and holding it out of her grasp. She had been so short that just holding it above her head had been too high for her too reach.

"So what's this one about? Probably dashing knights and dragons. A romance novel about a maiden in trouble," Theon had said, turning the binding over to look at title, only to find that it was a book about herbs. "Uhg, even worse. Ow!" Jeyne had kicked him in the shin, sending the book tumbling to the ground where she collected it and scurried away. She'd even looked at him, wondering why he hadn't done anything to help, but Robb had been too busy trying to keep Steffon occupied. Back then, Steffon was even more talkable, raving about swords and legends, how he'd be a king just as good as his father.

Where did the time go? Where did that boy go? The same place that the messy little lady had. They'd all grown up and now the girl with messy hair had a smirk cocked as him as she prepared to dig her heels back into her horse. For a moment he saw the girl again, her clear blue eyes still filled with the same amusement even after all these years. Scenarios that had never played out in his head now confronted him in the flesh. When Lyanna had passed, he thought that was the last time he'd see his cousins or the Lady Arryn who was now the Protector of the Vale. What else did she hide in that head of hers?

The torment of King's Landing. The experience of managing the Vale. Even at her age she's been through a lot.

Robb kicked Dorren before Jeyne got too far ahead of him as they trekked deeper into the western wolfswood. Tree closed in around them, creating a verdant curtain of leaves and needles. What daylight there was barely made it down to the thick canopy and it was easy to lose track of time. However, it was becoming considerably darker than he expected. According to his mental clock, it still should have been early afternoon.

"Do you hear that?" Jeyne asked breathlessly, letting the scenery soak in.

Robb strained his ears, but all he heard were the typical birds and bugs chittering quietly. "No."

He swore that Greywind rolled his wolf eyes at him. "Sounds like water," Jeyne informed him, turning Alester toward a thinner but worn game trail. "Let's go see."

Dorren was a bit large for the trail, his belly scraping against tree branches as they headed between large trees. Jeyne's palomino had an easier time slipping down the path seeing that he was more slight. Around a bend and Robb didn't have eyes on her anymore. Clearing his throat, he set aside the strange anxiety that overcome him as he came round the turn as well. The path opened up and Dorren was no longer pressed between the trees. Spanning in front of him were slick riverstones that led to a bank. Crystal clear water that ran down from the mountains lapped gently over the stones. It was so quiet that Robb was astounded that she or Greywind heard it.

No, it wasn't the stream she had heard. Jeyne had left Alester by the bank and had already crossed the stream, using some of the stones that crested over the murmuring water to get to the other side. She had her bow with her, climbing up the opposite rocky outcropping, a flat stone, her petite silhouette outlined before she disappeared again.

Not again, Robb thought irritably before leaving Dorren beside Alester. He lacked the grace of his riding partner and stepped right into the icy water, his boot soaked all the way through. Scrabbling on the opposite bank he climbed over the platformed boulders and found that Jeyne was waiting at the bottom, her head turned up to the waterfall that was crashing down in front of her, a rich sapphire pool disturbed by the falling water. Finally, Robb caught up to her, ignoring his chilled foot as she bent over and picked up a flat river stone. Each were smooth and round, but this particular one was thin.

With a flick of her wrist she sent it skipping across the surface until it smacked into one of the large rippled from the falls and plunked into the sapphire depths. No word was spoken as she took a seat and picked up another rock, tossing it in her hand, glancing up at him.

Understanding, Robb took a seat and watched as she skipped her second stone.

"You're rather good at that," he remarked.

"I'm good at a lot of things," she quipped, the third nearly making it to the waterfall.

"Being modest seems to be among that list," Robb smirked, drawing a wry glance from her.

"Modesty has a time and a place. Give it a try then," she tossed him a suitable stone.

Reflexively, Robb caught it with ease and trying to recall the twist of her wrist, made his own attempt. It skipped a couple of times, but nothing nearly as impressive as what she had been doing.

"It's not about how hard you throw it. It's technique. You can use a bow with a lot of weight on the string, but it's useless unless you have the skill to aim it properly. Watch again," she gestured, the movement of her wrist was fluid and snappy, little movement in her arm and moreso behind the technique of her wrist. He noticed the skirt of her gown spilled around her, revealing the trousers she was wearing.

Robb attempted again, still using too much of his arm behind it. "So what are your plans?" Robb asked her as he found another stone to try again, his eyes set forward toward the waterfall. She had also resumed, her skips reaching much further.

"My plans? What do you mean?" Jeyne inquired.

"You're not expected to stay at Winterfell forever," Robb reminded her.

"My father's wish was for me to be here."

"And that's why you're here, but it's not permanent unless-" this toss went straight down, completely botched.

"Unless I married some northern lord or lordling?" she filled in and Robb was keenly aware of her stare.

Picking up a new stone without looking at her, he nodded.

"I'm not getting any younger and I'm certainly in my prime for… that. I have my suspicions of what my father intended, but he wouldn't have presumed to force me into it."

"And what's that?" he was dancing delicately around the subject.

"Don't play coy with me Robb. Don't turn into that demure lady I just warned you about," she cocked a brow at him. "If you're interested in my hand, you could just say that."

"I didn't want to be hasty," he smiled into his lap at her bluntness. "Especially after what you just shared with me earlier."

"I'm not afraid of men. Else I wouldn't have gone riding with you alone. I've had more support from men in my life than women… My father, the Royces, Maester Helliwig," she set the stone in her hand down and frowned slightly. "And it's only a matter of time before prospective suitors from the north begin showing up at Winterfell. I am the eldest child of a realm without a lord. Robyn is young and sickly and with winter coming, there's a chance the cold will take him as it did my mother. What then? Anyone who marries me has the chance of becoming the Lord of the Vale."

"If your Valemen as just as loyal as you claim, you would be Lady of the Vale. Any man you choose could not overshadow you," Robb snorted, disliking the idea that more men would arrive with the intentions of convincing of Jeyne they were worthy husbands.

"I'm not that big, it's rather easy to overshadow me," she jested.

"Even a small person can cast a large shadow."

Jeyne scoffed, but did not deny his words. "I'm afraid too," she admitted honestly.

"Why?" Robb's furrowed at her admission.

"Because I'm not typical. I'm not sweet and willowy. I can posture as a lady when needed, but… I'm more of this," she motioned to herself as she was then. "I like to command, I like to count, I like managing. I can be… blunt and stubborn. I've undermined a lot of men and I've come to realize that most don't like being told straight to their face that they're wrong. My opinions are not a secret and my attitude is enough to get me into trouble. Some prize me as a martyr, but I don't really know if that's something to be proud about."

"Sounds like the competition isn't going to be as staunch as I thought."

Jeyne rolled her eyes at him. "I'm telling you because of your interest. You might find me interesting now, but I'm worried about months down the line… Years."

"Jeyne," he sighed. "I'm not trying to pressure you into any premature decisions. Your hand is your own to decide, your father gave you that gift with his last breath. But it's the fact that you aren't like other ladies that intrigues me. I'm tired of the shy ladies that try to win my affections over by a dance at a feast or smiles hidden behind sleeves. You're honest and forthcoming. Perhaps it is too early, but I'm not daunted. Not yet."

"Well…" she exhaled a deep breath. "Good luck. Don't say I didn't warn you."

Before Robb could think of a clever remark, a loud clap resounded through the sky above them. Now the darkening sky made more sense as the heavens rumbled and without warning, opened up on them. They hadn't so much as climbed to their feet before they were each soaked through to the skin, scaling the rocks back to the stream. They crossed to find their horses had retreated to the tree line to try and shelter from the rain. A terrible gust of wind cause Jeyne to slip on the stones, her hair whirling around her madly.

Robb grabbed her arm and hauled her back to her feet as they found their horses.

"Robb, we can't ride through this!" Jeyne shouted over the din of the wind, rain, and thunder.

She was right, the trees were bending and groaning under the strain of the wind. The tight path back to the main trail would be precarious, especially for Dorren. "We need to find somewhere to shelter for the worst of it," Robb told her, glancing around through the torrential pouring. Dread suddenly filled him when he glanced at the stream, realizing how rapidly it was filling from the rain. The bank expanded up quite far and suspicion crept over him. "We need to find high ground now!"

Without waiting for her, he seized her arm sternly and began dragging her along with him. The horses didn't like it, but they were forced down the thin winding game path. Trees bent toward them with twisted branches trying to claw at them, wailing like banshees in the wind. Squinting through the carnage, Robb saw an opening. If she was trying to speak to him, he did not hear, only focused on one thing. Taking the path less traveled by, the winding path led them to a weirwood tree. Most other trees didn't grow directly on top of the weirwood due to how far the root system branched out. Juxtaposing the weirwood was a bolder which ivory roots had grown over, creating a gnarled alcove.

"Get under there, I'll tie up the horses," Robb ordered, gesturing to the tiny shelter the weirwood provided.

Jeyne spared a glance at him, her hair plastered to here face, but gave a resigned nod before scurrying away. Up alongside of the weeping face of the weirwood stood an area where the trunk obscured the majority of the wind. The thick crimson canopy provided a decent amount of shelter for the horses and he secured them in front of the weeping face of the tree to be watched by the gods.

When he approached the nook where Jeyne was he realized he had sorely misjudged the amount of space within. Jeyne was huddled within, her knees up to her chest as she glanced around desperately for a way to make room for him. "Just… Just get in here!" she grabbed him by his jerkin and gave him the space against the stone to place his back. He had enough room to unfurl his legs, but now Jeyne had no space, back out in the elements. Despite the situation it put them in, they both understood what it meant.

Robb took Jeynes hand and she sat between his legs, her back pressed against his chest. Her proximity was intoxicating, but Robb tried to still his heart as he glanced outside their shelter. Hell had broken out in a matter of minutes and the rain continued to fall with belligerent consistency. The trees outside saying and bowed more than Robb thought was possible. He couldn't imagine trying to ride through them when they moved as is possessed by disturbed spirits.

Jeyne shivered and Robb subconsciously wrapped his arms around her. Their clothes were soaked all the way through and there was no room to create a fire. He kept his eyes listing in the glade as they waited out the storm, the sky growing ever darker. He wasn't aware when he dozed off, but when he awoke to Greywind nosing his face. The wolf let out a huff of hot breath in Robb's face and he glanced down at Jeyne who was cradled in his arms. They were both still wet, but the storm had stopped, the fleeting tendrils of dusk their last light before a cold night.

"Jeyne… Jeyne we've got to get moving," Robb nudged her, trying to stir her from her slumber. Her head lolled and when he saw her face her lips were blue and her face incredibly pale. "N-no. Jeyne? Jeyne can you hear me?" Robb took her face in his hands, her skin freezing to the touch. Panic seized him, he knew the signs of hypothermia.

"C-c-cold," she chattered slowly blinking her eyes open, quivering slightly as she gave him a hazy look.

"We're going back to Winterfell now," he told her, pulling them out of the nook. He carried her to the horses, securing Alester to Dorren with a lead. Jeyne sagged in the saddle as he hoisted her up first. He was also cold, but he was better adjusted to the north than she was. His hands were icy and slow moving, but he managed to get up on his horse with Jeyne seated in front of him. "Greywind," he called, his eyes desperately seeking his wolfin partner for help.

The direwolf bounded toward the trees and glanced back for him to follow. Robb kicked Dorren forward, hurrying him along to press after Greywind. Views that he had last thought were scenic and beautiful had been marred from the storm and blurred past him as he rode dangerously to try and beat the clock. Once they were back on the main path he snapped Dorren's reins again and pushed him harder. Blood pounding in his ears, the chill fled from body and he breathed heavily, nerves fraying as he held Jeyne close to him.

The hunter's gate was open and he passed through, the light of the day nearly gone. Torches lit the yard and he dismounted, not caring where the horses went as he stopped a guard. "Get Maester Lewin," Robb demanded as he stormed toward the Guest House, Jeyne in his arms shivering uncontrollably. He didn't have to wait long once he arrived at Jeyne's chambers.

"We got caught out in the storm. We managed to find shelter but not after getting soaked by the rain," Robb explained as he laid Jeyne on the bed. He'd made certain to have the fire roaring.

Lewin picked at dress. "She's soaking wet still," he observed.

Greywind shook his fur and climbed onto the bed, curling up close to her. Lewin stepped outside, summoning a nearby female servant to help strip Jeyne down. Robb stepped out while they worked to preserve her modesty, his own fingers trembling as he rubbed them together. Minutes passed leaning up against the wall before Lewin cracked the door back open and motioned for Robb to enter.

"She'll be fine, just needs a bit rest. Elayne has gone ahead and put a bed warmer beneath her sheets, but she's going to fill some more up. However, Greywind is perhaps the best source of heat for her. Her shaking has stopped and I've also changed the wraps on her arm. Someone will need to make certain that the fire it kept high," Lewin explained, referring to the pans filled with coals that were often put under sheets at the end of the bed to warm toes.

"I'll do it," Robb offered immediately.

Lewin swept his eyes over him, considering, and then nodded. "Strip down and lay your outer layers out by the fire. You're still wet too Robb and pale. The room will heat up enough that your tunic and trousers will dry with them," the maester instructed. "If her condition worsens, I'll be just a call away."

"Thank you Maester Lewin," Robb sighed, the maester leaving him alone with Jeyne. Her hair was fanned out around her on the pillow and color was returning to her face. Unlacing his jerkin, he stripped down to his cotton tunic and trousers, kicking his boots to the hearth he pulled the desk chair up beside the bed and propped his chin on his fist as he leaned forward.

"Robb?" Jeyne's voice cracked hoarsely.

He lifted his head and glanced over at her. "You should be resting."

She forced a comical smirk. "I'm fond of you too," she confessed.

Robb laughed at her softly, realizing that Jeyne was probably not fully awake. Perhaps feverish while she recovered and slightly delirious. He hefted himself to his feet to check her temperature, which was a bit warm, but nothing to be worried about. By the time he put his hand to her, she'd dozed back off. "Time will tell," he murmured before taking his seat to sit vigil.