Roslin II & Robb II

Roslin

The harsh morning sun, cutting through the thin curtains, rudely awakened Roslin from her restless sleep. She reached out, feeling the cold, empty space beside her where Robb had been. Her heart sank slightly, knowing he likely had little desire to linger any longer than necessary.

As she sat up, her eyes fell upon a figure at the end of the bed. Blinking against the brightness, she gradually made out Robb, struggling with the laces of his boots. A wave of awkwardness washed over her, and she fought the impulse to reach out and offer comfort. Robb's gaze met hers, and he seemed momentarily surprised to find her awake.

"I need to speak with the lords about our journey south," he said, his voice tinged with urgency. "We have to leave today. I realise it's a lot to ask of you, to leave your home after only knowing me for a day, but time is of the essence."

Roslin slid out of bed and approached him, her heart swelling with a mixture of apprehension and resolve. "This home was my prison," she began, her voice steady despite the turbulent emotions. "Though I cherish some people here, most of my family were more like prison guards. Leaving with you feels like a release from captivity. But may I offer some advice?"

Robb looked up, his eyes reflecting a mix of curiosity and sympathy. "Of course."

"Speak with my father before you depart," Roslin advised, her voice earnest. "My House has many men at its disposal, but my father will only part with them if you make a strong impression. He finds men who don't challenge his terms rather dull."

Robb's eyes softened with understanding. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small grey velour pouch. From it, he retrieved a simple yet exquisite silver ring, it had no stone, no jewels but was the most beautiful ring she had ever seen. "This ring," he said softly, "is made from the metal that forged the gates of Winterfell. It belonged to my grandmother and has been passed down through the Stark lineage for generations. It was meant to go from my uncle to my mother before he died but now I would like you to wear it."

He placed the ring gently in her palm, closing her fingers around it before pressing a tender kiss to her hand. "We'll be leaving soon," he added before stepping out to prepare his men.

Roslin remained in the room, contemplating the new life that awaited her, both on the road and at Winterfell. As the reality of her situation set in, she realised she needed to get dressed. She scanned the room, noting that her only available garments were her wedding dress and her nightgown. The thought of running through the halls of The Twins in either was unappealing. Her concerns were interrupted by a soft knock at the door.

"Roslin, it's Lady Stark," came a gentle voice.

Reluctantly, Roslin approached the door and peered through the gap. Catelyn Stark stood there, holding a bundle of clothing. Encouraged by the sight, Roslin opened the door but kept her body partially hidden behind it. As soon as Catelyn entered, Roslin quickly closed the door to maintain her modesty.

Catelyn laid out a dark blue dress on the bed. It appeared to be knee-length, which puzzled Roslin until Catelyn produced a pair of black riding trousers and brown riding boots. "I thought you might need practical riding attire," Catelyn explained briskly. "As Robb's wife and the Lady of Winterfell, you'll be expected to ride at the front alongside him. If you're uncomfortable, we can make an exception."

Roslin nodded, though she was still unsure about her new relationship with Catelyn. "Yes, I can ride," she confirmed.

"Good," Catelyn said with a hint of satisfaction. "Get dressed, and I'll help with your hair. It will need to be up and out of the way for the journey."

Robb

Meanwhile, Robb was deep in conversation with Stevron Frey, heir to The Twins. Robb was struck by Stevron's intelligence and wit, finding it curious how such qualities emerged from the same lineage as Walder Frey. Just then, the Great Hall's doors burst open, revealing Walder Frey seated at the head of the breakfast table, engaged in animated conversation with Edmure Tully.

As Robb approached, Walder's voice boomed across the room. "Here he is, my new son! How was my most beautiful daughter? A good lay? Her mother always was," he laughed, giving Edmure's shoulder a hearty slap. Edmure joined in awkwardly.

"She is perfect my lord" Robb replied as innocently as he could, trying to avoid the question.

"As long as she gives me a grandson, I don't care how perfect she is," Walder declared, raising a goblet. "When the gods are willing," Robb nodded politely, feeling the weight of expectation pressing down on him.

Walder's gaze sharpened. "And after all my hospitality, you still have more to ask of me. Out with it, and we'll see how far my generosity extends."

Robb took a deep breath. "I've written to the King, requesting he delay any decisions regarding my father's fate until I reach King's Landing. The Dowager Queen - Cersei has replied on his behalf and has agreed to this request. My plan is to negotiate for my father's freedom. I seek no war for Northern independence or in Robert Baratheon's name. But if the King refuses or acts before I arrive, I'll need an army. The Northern forces alone will not suffice. My wife tells me House Frey has men, and I ask for your assistance. Those who support us will be richly rewarded once my father is home, and especially given my wife's loyalty and affection for her family."

Walder feigned vulnerability. "So you want me to send my men south, leaving my family exposed?"

"Not all your men, my lord," Robb replied smoothly. "You may retain as many as you deem necessary for your safety. I only ask for what you can spare."

"Well, you're in luck, Lord Stark. My uncle and I were just discussing House Tully's need for an heir and his desire to marry my granddaughter Alyx. A marriage into House Tully for half of my army—House Stark is free from payment. A bargain, I'd say."

Robb knew that successive marriages into House Stark and House Tully would increase Walder Frey's influence more than he desired. However, seeing Edmure's interest in Alyx, Robb recognised that such a betrothal might be a lesser evil compared to other potential costs. Before agreeing, he recalled Roslin's advice about fighting for terms.

"You can have the marriage," Robb said cautiously. "But you know as well as I do that marrying the Lord of Riverrun does more than put your blood in line for the seat, it gives you power. More power than your family has had since the time of the Dragons. Power worth 3 quarters of your men."

Walder's expression shifted from amusement to a dark frown before he forced a smile. "You're braver than I thought, Lord Stark. Perhaps my daughter won't perish in your war. Fine, you can have as many of my men as you desire and may that and the gods help you to bring that idiot back to marry Alyx once you return North. The women desire a grand wedding after the rush of the last one. I do like to see my girls happy, so ensure your uncle returns alive."

Walder rose from the table. "Do you leave now?"

"Within the hour," Robb confirmed.

"Stevron will prepare the men. I won't see you off—I have business with my wife. Give Roslin my regards and fill her belly with a son as quickly as possible." Walder chuckled as he left the room.

Roslin

Roslin, now fully dressed, bid farewell to Catelyn, who was preparing her horse for the journey. Roslin decided to take one last walk through the halls of The Twins, as she had no plans to return. She lingered in the corridors, saying silent goodbyes to the place she had called home, her heart heavy with the thought of leaving behind loved ones and familiar faces.

She arrived at her old room to find Tyta handing her bag to a Frey soldier. Roslin's heart ached as she realised how her departure affected her siblings, especially Tyta, who had no one to shield her and faced an uncertain future. Unnoticed, Roslin watched as Tyta scribbled a farewell note. When she finally spoke, her voice was a whisper. "Tyta?"

Tyta looked up, her eyes shimmering with tears. "Roslin, I thought it best to leave a note for the girls. If we said goodbye in person, they'd never let us go—or I wouldn't want to leave."

"They'll be alright," Roslin said soothingly. "Just like we were."

She offered her hand, and the two sisters walked out together, casting one last, wistful glance at the room they had shared for so many years before Roslin gently closed the door behind them.

In silence, they made their way to the Stark camp, which was now a hive of activity. Tents had been dismantled, and the army stood in neat formation with horses behind them. Roslin noticed Perwyn helping Olyvar onto his horse at the far side of the courtyard. The sight of the now-doubled army suggested that Robb had successfully convinced her father to contribute additional men.

Roslin's gaze fell upon Robb, who was engaged in a moment with his mother. Catelyn Stark was adjusting his hair with practised care, their conversation animated and filled with a warmth that Roslin had not yet fully experienced with them. As Roslin and Tyta approached, the two women split, and Roslin gave Tyta's hands a reassuring squeeze before releasing them. She watched as Tyta followed Catelyn towards the horses, her sister's expression a mix of nervousness and resignation.

Standing alone, Roslin clasped her hands tightly together, her fingers intertwined in a silent plea for courage. She waited anxiously for Robb to turn and acknowledge her, uncertain about which horse she was to ride. The minutes felt like hours as she wrestled with her apprehension.

At last, Robb turned, his face breaking into a broad, genuine grin. "Lady Stark," he greeted her, his tone light and filled with cheer.

"Lord Stark," Roslin replied, doing her best to mirror his joy despite her fluttering nerves.

Robb reached out, gently prying her hands apart before lacing his fingers with hers. With a tender gesture, he guided her to the front-most horses. Their fingers remained intertwined, offering a silent comfort as they approached their mounts. Robb helped Roslin onto her horse with practised ease, his touch firm yet gentle. Before she could fully settle, he pressed a soft kiss to her hand, his eyes momentarily fixed on the ring she now wore.

Roslin noticed the gleam of pride in his eyes, but she couldn't shake the feeling of uncertainty. There was no one else around to witness this exchange, no performance was required—just the two of them. Despite the absence of an audience, Robb's joy was palpable.

As they prepared to depart, Roslin noticed that one horse still stood empty, its reins hanging loosely. Robb's brow furrowed in concern as he scanned the gathering. "Where is my uncle?" he asked Lord Karstark.

Lord Karstark gestured towards the entrance of The Twins, where Lord Tully was standing with a girl Roslin immediately recognized as Alyx. Lord Tully was handing something to her and pressing a tender kiss to her cheek before hurrying towards the assembled army.

Roslin watched with a pang of surprise as the group moved forward, leaving The Twins—and Alyx—behind. She had expected more of her kin to see them off, but she quickly pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on Robb. His cheerful demeanour had shifted to a serious, contemplative expression as he prepared for the journey ahead. The weight of their impending departure settled over her, and Roslin began to contemplate the road that lay before them, both physically and emotionally.