The Crossed Rose - GoT - R.S.

Broken promises, kept vows

The tension in the room could be cut with a knife. Dahlia stood behind Robb as her husband sat in his chair in front of table on the map tent where the two of them, Lord Bolton and Catelyn were reunited to discuss the message Roose Bolton had just received. And even if Dahlia wasn't with a hand over Robb's shoulder, she would be able to tell, from miles away, how angry he was. Even Catelyn, usually so composed and measured, paced around the room now. And they had every right to feel that way too. Angry, disappointed, betrayed.

Seven hells, if Dahlia felt like that, she couldn't even begin to think how it must feel for Robb.

"This cannot be true." He said, his voice grave as he crumbled the piece of paper with the damned message in his hands.

"We've had ravens from White Harbour, Barrowton and the Dreadfort." Lord Bolton said, unemotional as ever. "I'm afraid it is true."

"Why?" Robb wondered out loud, as Dahlia rubbed her thumb over his shoulder. She knew he didn't really feel her with his thick furs, but he knew she was there for him and that seemed to be enough to keep him composed. Or, as composed as he could be, given the situation. "Why would Theon..."

"Because the Greyjoys are treasonous whores." Lord Bolton stated simply.

Dahlia flinched at the choice of words. Was that how all of Westeros saw her Father's family? Was that how everyone saw her because she had been born a Frey? It wasn't fair, Dahlia thought. But it also wasn't a lie, she supposed.

"My brothers?" Robb asked, his voice snapping Dahlia from her thoughts as she brought her attention back to the conversation and hoped no one had noticed her momentarily distraction.

"We've heard nothing of them." Lord Bolton and Catelyn all but whimpered at those words. "But Rodrik Cassel is dead."

With her anger fueled by the idea of not knowing where two of her children were anymore, Catelyn turned to glare at Robb instead.

"I told you, never trust a Greyjoy!" She yelled and that must have sparked something inside of Robb because, in the blink of an eye, he was up on his feet, starting to make his way toward the entrance of the tent.

"I must go north at once." He said, as Lord Bolton turned to watch him go and Dahlia sighed, her hand falling limply at her side now that Robb was away from her.

"There's still a war to win, your Grace." Lord Bolton said.

"How can I call myself king if I can't hold my own castle?" Robb yelled, turning around to glare at Lord Bolton, his anger flaring up in a way Dahlia had never seen before. As he stood there, breathing heavily and spitting out every word he said, Dahlia thought he had a sudden resemblance to Grey Wind that she had never seen before. A man turned to wolf in a way she had never even thought possible. "How can I ask men to follow me if I can't..."

"You are a king." Lord Bolton interrupted, in a calm tone and with calculated caution. "And that means you don't have to do everything yourself."

Robb stopped for a moment then, but before he could say anything, Catelyn spoke up instead.

"Let me go and talk to Theon." She said.

"There will be no talk." Robb decided with a curt nod of his head. "He will die for this."

And just the tone of his voice was enough to send a shiver up and down her spine.

"Theon holds the castle with a skeleton crew." Lord Bolton said. "Let me send word to my bastard at the Dreadfort. He can raise a few hundred men and retake Winterfell before the new moon."

Dahlia could see Robb hesitated. He wanted to go deal with Theon himself, of course, but everyone in that tent knew that was an impractical solution. After all, if their King left and rode back to Winterfell, what happened to the war they were fighting there?