Robb at the Crossing, Part II

Robb is thrown a curve and finds new interests

Note: I had not planned on continuing this story but JohnnyHarder's "Crossing the Freys" and our subsequent correspondence got me thinking. Perhaps there was something else behind Robb's ruse. Also I anticipate that after "a certain episode airs" in season 3 of Game of Thrones there will be renewed interest in Robb "what ifs?"

The rumors had spread faster than Lord Frey's summons to the family to assemble immediately in the Great Hall. Reactions ran from elation to consternation. The old man was not loved; everyone had longed for his departure. The concern was among those who had ever wronged Stevron. Only Aegon, "Jinglebell", might have felt sorrow had he the wits to grasp his grandfather's fate. Walder was in the habit of tossing the fool some table scrap at mealtimes. He'd laugh himself into a coughing fit as Jinglebell scrambled about the floor like a hungry cur.

Still it was a shock to see Stevron seated in the Lord's chair; and beside him sat Ser Brynden Tully. It was true then. "The Freys are bannermen of House Tully. Today we march to war against the Lannister outlaws who savage our lands. My father had sought advantage from this threat. He treated with our enemies and refused his lord's call. For these crimes he forfeited his lands and titles and will receive justice. But House Frey has not been tainted by his disloyalty. All that was ours remains ours." There was an audible exhalation from the Freys at this. They were well aware that Robb Stark's army now controlled the Twins.

Grey Wind was curled up in a large furry ball on a bearskin he had appropriated on the floor of the council chamber. Robb looked up from a map he had been studying with Frey, Bolton, Umber, Brynden and Theon.

"My Lord Frey there is the matter of our agreement. This war may last years and I may not return until it ends. I would know what to expect. May I meet your Walda before taking leave of the Twins?"

"You are familiar with my family, Robb Stark?"

"I was attentive when Maester Luwin taught the Great Houses."

"Then you know that … no matter; we may both learn something. Please excuse me; it will only take a few minutes." Stevron stood up and left the chamber.

The others looked quizzically at Robb.

"Mother?"

Catelyn spoke from across the room where she had been sitting quietly. "What my son intends is marriage with Ser Stevron's heir. His first born son is Ryman. His first born is Edwyn. He has no sons, only a daughter, Walda. She is now third in line. I believe she is eight years."

Bolton nodded. "The Twins and Winterfell joined, admirable."

Theon and Umber laughed. "A bit young for my taste," Theon smirked; "but in 2-3 years, who knows?"

Brynden looked at Robb with a thin smile. "Not before her flowering, Robb," he said sternly.

"My sister Sansa is in waiting. Is it not the custom, nuncle?"

The conversation returned to the campaign. They glanced up when Stevron entered leading a slender young woman. She wore leather riding boots and a simple knee length blue tunic emblazoned with the Frey sigil. A sash emphasized her small waist. Robb's face betrayed his confusion; this girl was 17 at least. But then their eyes met. She smiled. It was as if the gloomy room had suddenly become brilliant with the summer sun. He felt warm for the first time that day. Her smile was a little lopsided; there was some mark on her left cheek; her blonde hair was unbound and hung loose past her shoulders; there were curves that demanded his attention; there was a look of mischief about her. She was beautiful beyond words. The men rose. Robb stepped forward, bowed and took her hand. Grey Wind bestirred himself, loped over and lay beside her. She reached down and scratched behind his ears. The direwolf licked her hand.

"Robb Stark, this is Walda, daughter of my third son Walton. Ah now, here's my little darling, Walda, daughter of my grandson, Edwyn."

A girl about Arya's age came running up and curtsied awkwardly. He bowed to her and then turned to Catelyn. She was laughing.

"Robb Stark," the older Walda spoke clearly with a hint of honey, "Robb Stark, I have one wish."

"Yes, milady?"

"That I may go with you."

Home to Winterfell, he dreamed. "Truly my mother would appreciate a companion. You have much to discuss. But this is your grandfather's decision."

"I and nearly all my house march with you Stark. She will be as well in the field or in Riverrun as here."

"I can ride and handle a bow," she stated proudly.

This one was full of surprises.

Stevron placed his hand on her shoulder and smiled. "Indeed, she hunts well; though too impetuous at times. She's been known to frighten the quarry."

Robb gestured to the great direwolf lolling contentedly at her feet. "In matters of the chase I've learned deference to Grey Wind."

The Greatjon slapped Robb on the back with such force he nearly propelled Robb into Walda. "Well said, lad; the wolf has chosen! But have a care milady; he bites."

Robb steadied himself, took both her hands in his and kissed her cheek. "A moment ago I did not imagine you existed and now you command my heart. In the morning or the next there will be a battle. You will remain at my mother's side, for both your sakes. It is late now and we must ride."