A/N: Hey guys, sorry you've had a little wait. I've been rather busy, but here is a new chapter for you. It's the wedding!

I want to say a big thanks to everyone who has left a comment so far, I love reading your thoughts and opinions. Rest assured I take them all on board and really appreciate hearing from you. You really motivate me, thank you all so much!

I hope to get chapters of my other stories up soon too, if any of you also follow them, but I found a wedding much easier to write than other content that's coming up! Hopefully I won't keep you waiting on them too much longer.

Hope you enjoy this one!

:)

VI

Second Chance

Robb did the last fastening on his doublet before smoothing his hands down the front of it and taking a deep breath. He appraised his appearance in the long looking glass and swallowed hard. Lady Olenna had insisted on his attire, but he had to admit that it was handsome indeed. The fine, grey velvet doublet was finely stitched. He had breeches to match, in a thicker, darker velvet. His boots, though the same as he always wore, had been polished until they shone. He did not like to think how quickly the work would be undone when he stepped outside the tent as a shower of rain the day before had made the mud in camp worse.

His future good-father had ordered straw strewn out between Robb's tent and the war tent – which would serve as a Sept today – and between Margaery's as well. He was hopeful that that would keep them mostly clean. The Tyrells were insistent on a grand wedding, even if it were not being conducted in a traditional location. They had taken charge of the feast as well, seemingly having the same gift as Renly when it came to procuring the finest sustenance, despite the war. Robb had been happy to let them take charge so far, but once the wedding was over they would find he was not quite so easy to control when it came to tactics.

He took a breath, now was not the time to think of such things. It would do no good to just assume that the Tyrells would disagree with him when it came to planning the assault on the Capital. Today was not about that, for one day he determined to forget the war and just allow himself to be happy. Tomorrow plans could begin, today he would focus all his attention on Margaery. She deserved that more than anything, to have a husband who could devote himself entirely to her. He swallowed hard and picked up his cloak, as black as his boots, and hung it about his shoulders. With one final glance in the mirror he clasped the cloak with two facing silver direwolves, and turned away, leaving the tent.

There were guards lining the walk to the war tent. It seemed there were guards everywhere at the moment. Robb could understand why it was being insisted upon. One king had been lost already, and the men who had sworn themselves to him were determined not to lose another one. Privately, Robb did not think that there would be much a thousand guards could do to protect him if Stannis decided to use magic against him, but he kept quiet. He appreciated the desire of the men of the Reach and the Stormlands to keep him safe. Whether it was for their own gain or not, he appreciated it all the same.

Many of the men offered their congratulations to him as he made his way towards the tent where he would soon be wed. A sudden rush of nerves took him, but he did not have the chance to dwell on them as a large hand clapped him on the back.

"Ready, lad?" the Greatjon asked him.

"Aye, my lord, I'm ready," Robb replied.

"Suppose it's easy, when your future queen is such a beauty," he chuckled.

"It doesn't hurt," Robb said, and his chuckle became a booming laugh.

"You'll be the envy of the kingdoms, lad," he slapped him on the back again.

Robb allowed a small chuckle at that, but said no more as he entered the tent, the Greatjon on his heels. His other lords were already inside, leave it to the Greatjon to almost be late for the ceremony. He moved to join the other lords as Robb continued up between those gathered, coming to a halt in front of the Septon. The Septon bowed his head in greeting, and Robb mirrored the action before self-consciously straightening his doublet. Gods, he hoped Margaery would not be long.

Almost as he thought that there was a murmuring behind him and he turned to the side so he could look back and see his bride approach. By the Gods. She took his breath away. She looked as though she had come from another world. In his mind he could not understand how a thing of such beauty could exist in a place of war. Her dress swathed her, clinging to every curve of her slight body. Her hair was falling in proper curls about her shoulders, a small circlet adorned with roses set in her hair. As his mother had said, there were a thousand pearls sewn in to the bodice of her dress. She was from another world. How could she possibly be real? How could she possibly be about to become his?

She smiled widely at him as her father led her closer, and he blinked stupidly for a moment before he managed to return her smile. He offered his hand then, and her father placed hers gently in his, giving him a curt nod before moving away. Robb squeezed her hand before the Septon spoke his first words.

"Will you cloak this woman, and bring her under your protection?"

Robb agreed readily, taking the cloak from Ser Loras, who offered him a smile, which he returned. He swept the cloak easily around Margaery's shoulders, tying the ties loosely. Robb took her hand again, before they both turned in unison to face the Septon, who stepped forward to tie a ribbon around their entwined hands. They were encouraged to say the words then, and he gazed down on her as she gazed up at him. Their eyes held one another's as they recited words that had been spoken a million times before by so many couples.

The only regret Robb had in that moment was that they were not marrying before the heart tree in the sight of the Old Gods. His mother worshipped the Seven, and he had an understanding of them, but they were not his Gods. They were Margaery's Gods, though, and he hoped she took comfort from being married in sight of them.

The Septon declared them husband and wife as they concluded their vows and Robb beamed down at his new wife, pulling her closer to him before bending and pressing his lips to hers. Somehow he managed to keep it chaste, reminding himself that many of these lords present had not long witnessed her marriage to Renly. As far as they were concerned this match was a necessary political one. It was best that they never know, nor even suspect, what had passed between them before the death of their former king. Best that was kept a secret between them, a secret that Robb would treasure for the rest of their days together.

"You are looking incredibly handsome today, husband," Margaery whispered teasingly to him as they sat in the places on honour on the high table, servants moving up and down the tables and pouring wine.

"I do believe I have only once seen you more beautiful than you are today, wife," Robb returned.

"And when is that?" she asked him, raising one brow.

"When I had you naked beneath me," he whispered in her ear, his hot breath making her shudder.

"You are careless," she said in mock-warning.

"No one is paying any attention to us, not now the food is being brought in," Robb grinned at her.

"You must always assume someone is listening," she told him, seriously, now.

"Is that a piece of southern advice?" he asked her, reaching for his goblet of wine.

"The best piece of advice I will ever give you," she told him, holding his eyes.

"I am sure you will have more for me, after all, we are now bound to one another for the rest of our days," Robb said.

"Quite," she agreed. "And I pray that they will be long ones."

"So do I," he said, leaning in to her and pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Margaery smiled at his action, continuing to watch him as he pulled away and turned his attention to the array of food that was being laid out for their consideration. She turned her own attention to it, passing on the pheasant and boar, but delighting in the look of the salmon that was presented. A serving was soon placed on her plate, and she cut into the soft pink flesh, pushing it about in the cream sauce that was drizzled around it. She was pleased to find that it tasted just as well as it looked, and she turned to Robb to see if he too was enjoying his meal.

"How is it?" she asked him.

"Surprisingly tender," he replied, and she noted that he had opted for the boar. "And yours?"

"Perfectly cooked," she replied, and he smiled. "Would you try some?"

"I have never had much of an appetite for fish," he told her, eyeing her plate suspiciously.

"I don't suppose you have ever had much of it at Winterfell," she smiled.

"No, some from Torrhen's Square on occasion," Robb told her. "But, I must confess I never had much of a taste for it. It just never tasted quite right." He seemed to shudder and she laughed lightly at him.

"There was much at Highgarden," she recognised the wistfulness in her own voice. "It is not so very far from the sea and the River Mander runs right by us."

"Plenty of fresh fish, then," Robb observed.

"Yes, as this is," she placed some on her fork and dangled it out to him. "Go on, just try it. If you don't like it I swear I will never force fish on you again. When I run our household I shall be sure you are never even offered it at meal times."

"How can I refuse such a tempting promise," he smiled widely before leaning forwards and eating the piece of fish that she offered. Margaery watched him as he chewed on it, patiently awaiting his verdict. "As fish goes," he began. "That one was not so bad."

"I can have some fish served up at mealtimes then?" she asked him teasingly.

"Yes, I suppose so," he replied. "So long as you can assure me it will always be fresh."

"We would have to live by the sea for me to promise such a thing," she said, carefully watching his reaction. He chuckled slightly and she took heart from it.

"Yes," he agreed with her. "Yes, I suppose we would."

He turned back to his food then and Margaery decided to leave it for now. She had tested the waters, so to speak, and he had not stiffened nor seemed angry at her comment about them living by the sea. He had not flat-out told her that they would never live by the sea because they would never live anywhere other than Winterfell. She took a sip of wine as she considered this. If her grandmother had heard the exchange she would be urging Margaery to push him further. Margaery knew him better, though. Robb could not be pushed into this, he had to be gently persuaded. So gently, in fact, that he would believe that the entire thing was his own idea.

Margaery believed she could do it, but she would need time. She could only hope her grandmother would understand this and give her the time she needed. Margaery looked towards Robb again, admiring him unashamedly as he laughed at something one of his northern lords had leaned over and said to him. He really was most handsome, even more so since he seemed to have no awareness of it. Margaery knew that many a woman would find no complaint in having him as a husband. They would desire him even more so if they knew what he was like between the sheets.

She felt herself blush then, at the sinful memory. Her eyes widened in the next moment as it occurred to her. She reached her hand over to gently clasp around Robb's arm and he extricated himself from conversation with her father and leaned into her.

"Is everything alright?" he asked her concernedly.

"The maids will be most inquisitive when they come and change our sheets tomorrow," she whispered.

"Ah," he said, understanding clear on his face.

"There will be questions," Margaery told him insistently, and he nodded.

"There will not, I will make sure of it, I promise you," Robb assured her in hushed tones, and she nodded, squeezing his arm a little more tightly for a moment.

"Thank you," she murmured, and he leant in and kissed her lips for the briefest of moments, leaving them tingling when he pulled away to resume his conversation with her father. She watched him for a moment, a slight smile on her face as she noted that her father looked completely won over. He had been sceptical about marrying Margaery to Robb, but he had bowed down and done what her grandmother had told him, as he usually did. Margaery was so glad that he had, from the moment Loras had mentioned it she had had her heart set on being Robb's wife.

Now she was, and part of her could still not quite believe it was all real.

"Lady Stark?"

Catelyn looked up and instantly had to bring a smile to her face as she found herself gazing at her new good-daughter. "My queen," she hoped her voice came out kindly. "I have yet to see you to offer you my congratulations."

"We have had precious little time to get to know one another," Margaery took the seat next to her, and Catelyn swallowed her unease. "Everything has all happened so quickly, at times I can scarcely believe that any of this is real. I am sorry that we have not yet had a chance to speak properly with one another."

"I should have made more of an effort after the betrothal was announced, but it appeared you had so many people around you already," Catelyn said. "I know how overwhelming it can be, planning for a wedding, I did not want to add to your burden."

"You could never be a burden, you are family now, Lady Stark," Margaery said, perfect smile set on her pretty face.

"Thank you," she endeavoured to return the smile, all the while wondering if the girl was being genuine or not.

"Still, we will no doubt be moving on soon, perhaps you and I could ride together sometimes?" Margaery suggested, her eyes wide and seemingly unassuming.

"I would like that," Catelyn said, perhaps she should give her the benefit of the doubt. She was, after all, family now as she had pointed out. Catelyn may not be happy that her son had broken his promise to the Freys, but that could not all be laid at Margaery's door. Yes, she was sure the girl had made herself very tempting to Robb, but he had agreed to it, and so had his lords. They were all just as dismissive as one another over what Walder Frey might do to them in vengeance. Perhaps Catelyn should just let it go, trust that they knew what they were doing…

"There you are," a smiling Robb had come to join them now. She watched as Margaery looked up at him, a smile on her own face. While she could not quite decide whether Margaery was scheming or not, she could not deny that the look she bestowed on her son was one of genuine adoration. That relaxed her slightly, though she knew she would still remain on edge until she was assured that Robb would not be fighting to be king of all seven kingdoms.

"Mother," Robb smiled at her next, "do you mind if I steal my wife away? The dancing is about to begin."

"By all means," Catelyn smiled, and he inclined his head to her before holding his hand out to Margaery. His wife took his hand gladly and he led her to where a circle of dancers were beginning to congregate. Music struck up as the king and his new queen joined the throng, and a lively dance began. Catelyn watched with a small smile, her dancing days had long been over, Ned had never been keen. She could count on one hand the number of times they had shared a dance with one another. That had been one of the reasons she had been so determined that all of her children learned to dance well.

The boys, and Arya, had always whined about having to go to their dancing lessons, but Catelyn had stood firm. She imagined Robb at least was thanking her for it now, he would never have to disappoint his wife when she desired a turn dancing. Catelyn watched them dance, proud that her son did not miss a step. They looked happy, she could admit that. She only hoped that the happiness would last. It was easy to forget, in this moment, that they were still in the midst of a war camp, and that the war was still to be won.

Robb led Margaery across the grass towards his tent, his hand firmly clasped with hers as he tried to find the least muddy path. Her dress was so beautiful that he did not want it to be ruined for her. Might be that she wanted to keep it, perhaps pass it on to their own daughter. He smiled at the thought of that as they reached the tent and he pulled the flap aside and gestured Margaery to enter before him. He followed her in, watched her as she glanced around at her surroundings. It seemed strange, given how close they had become, that she had never been inside his tent before.

"I hope you will be comfortable here," Robb told her as he crossed to pour some wine. "I understand if you wish to keep your own tent, for all your belongings. But…well," he cleared his throat. "I would, uhm…"

"Are you trying to tell me that you want me to stay here with you, always?" she turned to ask him, an amused smile playing about her lips.

"Yes," he said sheepishly, and her smile widened.

"I would be delighted," she said, moving to the bed and reclining back against the pillows.

"Gods, you're beautiful," he murmured as she made herself comfortable. She giggled at that and he approached slowly, holding out a cup of wine to her. Margaery took it with thanks and took a sip. He drank down some of his own before placing it on the bedside table. He unfasted his cloak from about his neck and draped it over a chair, before moving his hands to undo his doublet. It joined the cloak over the chair and he sat down on the edge of the bed to remove his boots.

"Oh!" Margaery's exclamation drew his attention and he turned his eyes towards the tent entrance where she was looking with wide eyes.

He grinned on seeing Grey Wind prowling in, his snout sniffing up at the air. Grey Wind had been absent more often than not recently. Camp life seemed to bore him, especially since they had been in the same place for near two weeks now. They would leave in the morning; that ought to make his wolf a little less restless.

"Margaery, meet Grey Wind," he said in an amused tone.

"A pleasure to put a face to a name," she returned with a smile, looking slightly nervous as his wolf prowled closer to the bed.

"He won't hurt you," Robb assured her.

Margaery edged herself up then, moving to the edge of the bed. She held her hand out, and Robb was impressed to see that her hand was completely steady. Grey Wind padded closer, sniffing at her fingertips. For a moment Robb thought he might turn tail and walk away but then he rubbed his head firmly against Margaery's hand. She laughed at his movement, and Grey Wind sat on his haunches, an unmistakable grin on his face as Margaery scratched behind his ears.

"I think he likes you," he commented.

"I certainly hope so," she replied, stroking him with both hands now.

"Well, when you have quite finished, there is another wolf here who would rather like your attention," Robb said slyly after another few minutes.

Margaery giggled at that, turning to look at him over her shoulder. Her eyes on him were enough to get him hard, and he sighed deeply, sinking back into the pillows. Margaery shifted away from Grey Wind, who looked mournful. Robb gave him a pointed look and he huffed, moving to the other side of the tent and curling up on the ground. With that Robb turned his attention back to his new bride, watching her intently as she pulled on the ribbons holding her dress together. She rose up from the bed as it came loose, letting it fall slowly down her body, leaving her in just a light underskirt.

He couldn't help but stare at her breasts as she carefully gathered up her dress and lay it on the chair with Robb's cloak and doublet. She slipped her hands down to the waist of the underskirt next and Robb swallowed hard, his mouth now inexplicably dry. Margaery smiled at him, walking ever closer to the bed, only dropping her underskirt when she was stood right next to it.

Now she was within touching distance and Robb could not help reaching out and trailing his fingers down her stomach. Her head tilted back and she let out a long sigh of pleasure as he allowed his fingers to dip down between her legs. He was gratified to feel her already ready for him, if anything it made him even harder in his breeches. She came closer, getting up onto the bed now and coming to straddle his hips. A wicked little smile adorned her lips as she rocked herself against him, another gasp leaving her mouth.

Her hands came to his chest, and he groaned as she began loosening his tunic, allowing her fingers to wisp over his bare skin. He slipped his hand between her legs and began to slowly tease at her, and he was gratified when a throaty moan came from her. At the sound he pulled himself up to face her, wanting her lips on his. He almost dragged her mouth to his, kissing her deeply. She responded fiercely, furiously tugging up his tunic, breaking their kiss to pull it over his head before crashing her lips back to his.

Robb grabbed her hips, turning her over so she was laying beneath him and breaking their kiss again in the process. Her hands went to the lacings of his breeches, and he had to stifle a groan as she whispered her fingertips up and down his length. He fisted his hands in her hair and kissed her again, pressing himself closer to her as she shoved his breeches down his hips. She drew her legs up around his waist as they continued to kiss, and it was ever so easy for him to slip down into her irresistible warmth.

She moaned into his mouth as he began to thrust slowly, her back arching up causing her chest to rub against his own. Every move she made seemed to make him desire her more and he couldn't help but rock more quickly into her. She seemed to appreciate his increase in speed, another moan leaving her mouth as her hands snatched at his chest and shoulders. He kissed down from her mouth, kissing and licking and nibbling his way down along her neck and shoulders. Gasps and moans came from her as the continued to rock gloriously together.

"Robb," she panted out as he groaned against her shoulder. "Touch me, please," she gasped.

For a moment he wasn't sure what she meant, but then her hand found his, guiding it down between their meshed bodies. He slipped his fingers down between them and found that little bud that had made her gasp at his touch earlier. It made her gasp again, her breath seemingly catching in her throat as a strangled little moan came from her. He kept rocking his hips, burying himself deeply inside her on every thrust as he continued to tease at that little bud.

Her body jumped beneath him, her legs shaking against his waist as he continued on. Her breaths came as little cries as her body writhed beneath him, her back arching up as he felt her tightening further around him. By the Gods, he could not hold on much longer. He groaned in almost frustration, feeling himself shaking as she shuddered around him, one final cry of relief leaving her as her body went limp beneath him. It was seconds before he gasped and groaned out his own release, collapsing down against her and pressing a kiss to her neck.

"I had no idea it would get even better," Margaery told him breathlessly after a few minutes.

He grinned at that, pleased to have satisfied her. A moment later he lifted his head, pushing his weight slightly off her as he moved to meet her eyes. She smiled up at him, and he moved his hand to brush some stray locks of hair back from her forehead. Gods she was beautiful. He did not think he would ever tire of looking at her. Her perfect eyes. Perfect smile…

"What are you thinking?" she whispered, moving her own hand to stroke down his cheek.

"That I will never tire of looking at you," he replied softly.

"Only looking at me?" she asked him slyly.

"No," he shook his head, grinning at her. "I will never tire of speaking with you, kissing you," he pressed his lips to hers for a moment. "Touching you," he added, trailing his hand down the side of her body to land on her hip. "Making love to you," he finished, pressing his lips to hers again and squeezing her hip lightly as she shifted her legs up around him again.

Margaery breathed out in satisfaction as she draped herself over Robb's chest, pressing a kiss to his slick skin before she lifted her head up to observe him. His curls were damp and there was a sheen of sweat across his forehead. He shot a smile at her before reaching out for the wine he had left on the bedside table. She watched as he drained it down before putting his empty cup back on the table and grinned at her again.

"Can I ask you something?" Margaery said, swirling her fingers around on his chest.

"Of course you can," Robb responded happily to her, and she shifted on his chest to better observe his reaction to her next words.

"Do you think your mother likes me?" she asked, and she saw a fleeting look of awkwardness cross his features. That told her all she needed to know. She sighed.

"It's not that she doesn't like you," Robb said, though he didn't sound convinced of his own words. "It's just, well, she made the deal with the Freys. She is angry with me for backing out of it. I understand why, I have broken a promise, and in turn I have made her break a promise. Not that I regret it," he smiled at her, stroking his hand through her hair. "I would have broken a thousand promises for you, I just think my mother is still uneasy about it all. It's not you, it's me she's annoyed with."

"Are you sure about that?" she asked him with a raised brow. "Are you sure she doesn't just see me as a scheming little temptress who dug her claws into you as soon as her husband was murdered?" she dug her nails into his chest to emphasise her point and he hissed slightly.

"No, I am sure she doesn't think that," he said unconvincingly.

"She never came to see me once in the build up to the wedding," Margaery persisted. "Don't you think that strange? Don't you think she would have wanted to at least get to know the woman who will be the mother of her grandchildren?"

"She will get to know you, and she will adore you," Robb soothed her, and she lay her head back down against his chest, thinking hard.

"I hope so," she told him. "I really do. All I want is to be a good wife to you, to be a good friend to all those in your family when you are all together again."

"Well, you are already a good wife to me," he told her adoringly, stroking his hand through her hair. "My mother will come around in time, she will not be able to resist knowing you better – especially when you bear her first grandchild."

"Yes," she agreed, thinking uneasily about the bottle her grandmother had given her, and the instruction that came with it.

"I know we are both young, and there is plenty of time for children," Robb continued. "But, it would be wonderful, wouldn't it?"

"Yes," she agreed again, and his hand stopped in her hair.

"Are you still worrying about my mother?" he asked.

"Yes," she lied. "I can't seem to help it."

"Margaery, she will come to love you as part of the family," he assured. "You just need to give her some time. I would love for you to get on, especially when she has guided me for so long. I don't really know what I would do without her."

"I'm sure you're right," she said snuggling down against him.

He wrapped his arms around her in the next moment, and after several minutes she heard his breathing even out and knew he had fallen asleep. She bit on her lip, thinking over what he had just said about his mother guiding him. That would not do, she would never be able to convince him that fighting for the Iron Throne was a good idea with his mother so firmly set against it. His mother would sew doubt in his mind at every turn, and Margaery could not allow it.

No, if she were to do this, the she would have make sure Robb sent Lady Stark back to Winterfell. Somehow.

A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed! They're married now but there's a whole lot more to come. More soon, I hope!

:)