The Songs of Winter | Robb Stark

Chapter 22

I would love to say that Robb and I's honeymoon was filled with making love, but unfortunately, it was the latter, as war doesn't stop for anybody.

One week after the wedding, we packed up and traveled to where we are now: Harrenhal. The journey was long and wearying, filled with the endless march of soldiers and the constant hum of war preparations.

We arrive just outside the imposing fortress. Its dark, towering walls loom above us, a stark reminder of the war we're in. The air is thick with the smell of sweat and the sound of clanging armor.

Clutching my skirts, I weave my way through the throng of men, my heart pounding with anticipation. I spot Robb amidst the sea of soldiers.

Robb sees me and a small smile grows on his face, a rare moment of light in the grim surroundings. "I'm surprised you decided to sit this battle out," he says, his voice filled with a teasing warmth.

I lift my skirts slightly, returning his smile. "And dirty my new dress?"

Robb laughs, his eyes shamelessly taking in my attire, lingering on the curves highlighted by the fabric. "Wouldn't want to ruin that new dress now, would we?" Stepping closer, he adds, "You know, I should make you wait at the camps more often if this is how you're going to greet me after battle."

"So, I don't look pretty when I'm bloody and bruised?" I ask mischievously, raising an eyebrow.

Robb smirks, a playful glint in his eyes as he steps even closer, his body pressing gently against mine. "Oh, you look quite lovely when you're bloody and bruised, my dear wife. But there's something about you in a clean, new dress that I can't resist."

His hand trails softly down my arm, his touch sending shivers down my spine. The rough calluses of his fingers contrast with the softness of my skin, making my breath hitch. "Though I suppose you won't stay this clean for long if you keep up this teasing."

"Teasing?" I say, placing a hand on my heart and feigning shock. "I'm merely a lady who likes to dress up once in a while, my King."

"Of course, my mistake," Robb says with a small chuckle. He leans down, his breath warm against my ear. "Though now that you mention it, there's definitely something about you in a dress that makes me want to ruin it."

My cheeks flush at Robb's words, my heart racing. I try to feign nonchalance, but a smile threatens to spread across my face. "Now what would our men think of their King acting so savagely towards his Queen?" I say, tilting my head up to look at him, a mischievous glint in my eyes.

"They would think their King is the luckiest man alive," Robb says with a smirk as he turns to walk towards Harrenhal.

A smile spreads across my face as I follow him, but it vanishes the moment we step inside the fortress. The sight of the bloody massacre of Northern men makes my stomach churn.

I walk up next to Robb, noticing his mood has shifted too as he takes in the slaughter. I silently take his hand in mine, knowing he'll find some way to blame himself for this tragedy.

Still holding hands, Robb walks over to the body of an old man with a long gray beard. "A Mallister," he says, his voice heavy with recognition. I realize the man isn't from the North but from the Riverlands.

"Ser Jeremy," Lady Catelyn says from beside us. "My father's bannerman."

Robb's face hardens at his mother's voice. "Find her a chamber that will serve as a cell," he orders.

As Catelyn is led away, I send her an apologetic look, but she shakes her head in response.

Squeezing Robb's hand, I step in front of him. "She's your mother," I say softly.