It took me a little longer than usual to update but I haven't forgotten the story. I always have ideas for it and can't stop writing about it even if sometimes seems a little slow.

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Chapter 25 : The Distance

It was as if the weather had followed him from the North. The sky was filled with dark clouds, ready to rain on them at any moment. It was the only thing that brought him comfort but also made him miss home.

He knew his reaction to Daenerys' doing hadn't been the best. Never before had he felt so angry but also so conflicted. After a few days of thinking about what had happened, he realized Dany had tried to do what she thought better for their family, to defend them. It was difficult to believe that she saw them as her family when a year ago she hated them with so much passion a few times he thought she was going to murder him in his sleep those first months.

Now he missed her terribly. She was the only one who he could talk to openly because she understood; just like him, people believed she was their salvation. She was blood of the Dragon and the true heir of the Iron Throne. He was King in the North, the true heir of the lands beyond the Neck. The weight over their shoulders was heavy and sometimes threatened to crush them; he didn't want to even think about the expectations on his son.

Planning war was a very lonely task. Being king was a very lonely job. Even if Robb had his uncles and his bannermen, people he had known since childhood, he could feel the pressure of being in command.

Thousands of times he thought about ending the war once and for all by calling for the aid of the Prince of Dorne and the families that lived at Cracklaw Point, to siege King's Landing while he fought against Tywin Lannister. The fear of his sisters being murdered while he attempted this was too big, though.

Was it that same fear that had driven Dany to cut the Kingslayer's hand?

She had seen him grief-stricken after receiving the news of his father's death. Perhaps she loved him as deeply as she claimed and wanted to prove herself to him. But did she not also know how much he disliked other people fighting his wars? The first thing he had learned from his father was to do everything by himself, because no one but him needed to face his enemies.

"Do you miss her as much as I do?" Robb wondered in a murmur as he petted Grey Wind, patting his head a couple of times before he picked up a piece of raw meat for Rhaegal. "Dracarys," he called but the dragon was already aware of his food being placed for him to eat.

Robb chuckled as he watched the dragon cooking the meat before eating it. He was strangely drawn to Daenerys whenever she spoke in Valyrian, when she taught him the words correcting him with tender patience but also laughing when he became frustrated.

Had they reached a point of no return, a break in their relationship that could not be fixed?

Grey Wind nuzzled his hand as if he were reading Robb's mind and his doubts.

"She said she loves me, did she not?" Robb sighed. "And no matter how much I keep trying to forget her, seems it is an impossible task. This doesn't erase the good things she did and the love I have for her."

-o-

There were things Robb Stark had never felt comfortable about. Dancing was one of them but suddenly he found himself moving to the rhythm of music with one of his hands in the waist of his partner and the other holding her hand. She was smiling at him.

"My Wolf," she whispered and he felt his face turning warm, feeling very aware of his clumsy feet and movements while she gracefully moved trying to conceal the jerky moves of his legs. She giggled when he sighed heavily.

He felt her pulling him closer and soon, even if he pretended, she was leading the dance.

"Dany," he murmured, attempting to chastise her but failing when he saw the mischief in her eyes. He only chuckled, bowing his head to press their foreheads together. "You're trying to make me look like a fool."

"Never," she retorted. "I want our King to relax and dance with me. No one will dare to say a thing about the Young Wolf. The King. My husband." She was smiling up at him; it made his heart stutter because such a bright smile, only granted for him, could have made him forget everything.

Feeling older and tired, he humored her and they danced. It certainly helped that he forgot he was being watched by so many people in the hall. There was a party around them but he couldn't remember the reason behind it. His mind was focused on the woman before him.

Suddenly he felt the imperious need to speak, to apologize for his absence and his reactions. But what words could summarize that? He couldn't recollect if he had apologized before. How could she be so happy in his arms if he hadn't?

"I love you," he whispered in a breath and her eyes turned soft, her lips formed a trembling smile.

"I know."

"But do you believe it?"

Her face was too expressive. Sometimes Dany did not need to speak for him to know what she felt or thought; yet, when she was around the rest, her face was a mask of cold indifference. He often felt honored of seeing the real her.

"I couldn't love you if I did not."

He gave a curt nod before huffing. The arch of her eyebrow prompted him to explain himself.

"It's warm in here."

She laughed at his discomfort. She never felt really warm since she could walk through fire without burning. Actually, their room in Winterfell sometimes felt asphyxiating due to the heat but he survived by wearing the least amount of clothes possible when they were alone.

"How will you survive when you become King of the Seven Kingdoms? King's Landing is very warm."

"It's winter."

"We'll survive winter." The assurance in her tone helped to ease his worries. He knew that if anyone could survive winter, those were the Northerners. But the stubbornness and her conviction made her also a fighter ready to face the worst.

"I'm the King. I'll walk around naked and people won't complain," he quipped, making a rich laugh pour out of her lips while she tilted her head backwards slightly. He had to join her with a quieter one.

Taking one step closer to him, he felt her body heat, not really touching but almost as close.

He missed her so much, the temptation of holding her, of burying his nose in her hair to smell the herbal scent of sage and touching her soft and pale skin, was too much for him. Home for him was lying next to her in bed surrounded by her warmth and softness as he breathed in the scent of blue winter roses that clung to the sheets, since she had made mandatory to boil them with the dried flowers that had adorned the chambers before.

"Robb," she whispered.

Robb was about to reply when he felt something cold and solid stabbing his stomach. Her body slumped against his and Dany gasped when her fingers dug in his arms, feeling it even through the clothes.

When he looked down he saw the handle of a dirk protruding on her back, the blood staining her dress, growing rapidly as her fingers let go of him.

The animalistic growl he heard was so strong and loud, Robb didn't realize it had come from him until people rushed to him and Daenerys. By then, both of them had slipped to fall softly on the cold floor.

The music stopped.

In the distance he saw a shadow running away, a man wearing a cloak moving swiftly through the crowd to abandon the hall. And as much as he wanted to avenge this, he could not leave his wife as life slipped through her fingers.

"My queen," he murmured in a pained voice. "My love," he almost sobbed, angry at the sharp dagger bathed in scarlet blood that was still buried in her stomach.

"Wolf," she breathed as her eyes drooped close. Her weakened hand reached for his cheek. "Keep our boy safe."

Someone spoke, pointing out that he was also hurt, that the dagger had stabbed him as well but he couldn't bring himself to care.

Her arm fell limp next to her and her violet eyes lost the spark of life. His hands were covered in her blood; it almost burned his skin.

Not knowing what to do, he shook her, calling her name in a furious growl but she never responded. He had lost her and he couldn't remember more than this moment and the fight that had drove them apart. Robb hadn't been able to fix things long enough to make him content, to believe she had been truly happy. She hadn't stand with him as his Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

Feeling his soul shrinking, the last thread of sanity snapping with the pull, he swore vengeance. He felt himself become something he couldn't describe, as if he were not himself or human. It was as if he had died as well.

Robb saw himself as a direwolf, his snout dripping with blood as he stood in the middle of a pile of corpses, licking his fangs and snarling in the dark.

He woke up sweating profusely and feeling cold even if the air felt humid and hot, making hard for him to breathe as his heart still beat wildly in his chest. Sitting there, struggling for air, he saw Grey Wind's golden eyes staring at him, almost admonishing as if he knew what he had been dreaming about.

Losing Daenerys was not possible. Losing her would mean losing everything for some reason.

As soon as he had the chance, things had to be mended before it was too late. Before he became that blood-thirsty beast eternally searching for revenge.

-o-

Tightly holding the quill between his fingers, Robb tried to come up with words. It was a difficult task for someone who didn't carry himself expressing his emotions by speaking them. Daenerys had no problem reading him, even before they had fallen in love, even when she tried to seduce him against his will.

He was close to knock over the ink when he slammed his fist against the table, frustrated with his incompetence.

What had he been expecting? To find a new queen? A woman who wanted to marry him to be praised as queen and give him children was not his dream. He did not want a manipulative woman who pretended to agree with his every wish to stab him in the back as soon as he turned around. At least Daenerys stood in front of him to face him and fight him. He didn't need to guess.

There wasn't a proper way to discuss this using letters. There were not words to express apologies but to also let her know he was still angry for not trusting his judgment, for risking everything.

It was absolutely crazy of him to even try to mend things by a written note. So he decided against his first idea and placed the quill flat on the table.

He was standing up when a guard made his presence known.

"Your Grace, Jorah Mormont wishes to speak to you." The young man missed a tooth and he looked tired. Sometimes the smallest things reminded him of how exhausting war could be.

"Let him in."

Clenching his jaw, Robb watched Jorah Mormont bowing his head while he greeted him with the proper respect. Since their quarrel at Winterfell, Jorah seemed to at least not snarl at him whenever he commanded him to do something but they weren't friends by any means.

"What do you need to speak to me about?" Robb inquired.

"About your answer to Tywin Lannister's message," he said in his deep voice.

It was clear he had to come up with a proper answer to the threaten Tywin had made. But what? His uncle Brynden had suggested making an example of one of the Lannisters' army but waiting until the time was right. But time seemed to be moving so slowly and he couldn't wait any longer.

"What do you have to say about that?"

"I believe I can provide help to carry a message to King's Landing." Jorah stood straight and the corner of his mouth curled into a self-satisfied smirk. "I know how to enter the Red Keep."

This called Robb's attention. He planted his hands firmly on the table and braced himself. "Explain yourself."

Jorah sighed and moved a few feet closer but keeping his distance. "For my safe return, I needed a royal pardon that I got by working for the Spider."

"The Spider? You were one of his little birds?" Robb almost mocked him and noticed how the man in front of him gritted his teeth and bit back a reply. "What kind of information did you provide for him?"

"The Targaryen siblings. Just like many have done. He wanted me to be close to them, especially after she married Khal Drogo."

Robb ducked his head. He could not be jealous of a dead man but he was. Dany had been exchanged for an army, married without wanting it. Twice. And both times she had finally fallen in love with them. She must have been, why would have she named one of the dragons after the khal if she had not?

"Does she know?"

"Yes. And this is why I offer you my services. She will forgive me if I rescue your sisters," Jorah said with an even voice that proved his determination.

"You pretend to offer your services to the Spider and have access to the Red Keep?" Robb saw the older man nodding his head in an unspoken yes. "You think you can do that?"

"I believe it is possible. We need to do it at the right time and… I'll bring them back to you before Tywin Lannister receives news of the rescue."

"No one must know about this and if you get caught, you can't admit I've sent you," Robb stated, already making plans in his head about how to act regarding this situation.

"You haven't. I'm doing this for a price, for the debt I have to the Queen of the North."

Robb's gaze fell heavy upon the man and weighed his options. "If you bring my sisters back, I'll grant you a pardon. One that will mean something, unlike that… royal pardon." He started to move slowly around the table, watching the map with the small figurines representing the armies. "You'll claim you are taking them as prisoners, if you happen to get caught. You won't share this information with anyone and must leave at first light, taking everything you need but not asking for supplies since it might raise suspicions."

"Of course, Your Grace."

Robb nodded when Jorah made motions to leave but stopped him when he said, "Don't think this will buy you her love. We might have… disagreed but she's my wife."

Jorah snorted rudely. "If she didn't want to be at your side, she would've left you or worse. Believe me, I know the answer to my wishes."

Standing there, he watched Jorah leave.

He might have been right. Daenerys Targaryen was not a mild girl. He was lucky she loved him enough not to face her fury like others before him.