Winter is Coming (A Game Of Thrones Fan-Fic) (ON HOLD)

7. Winter Is Coming

A-N- Heyy guys! Again, I'm going to start by saying I'm sorry for not updating in such a long time. For some reason, this is the hardest story for me to update. But I've decided to put everything else on hold and focus on Winter Is Coming for a while! As you wished, here is another chapter!!
It is short- and I'm sorry for that. Please tell me if it is utter shit and I should scrap it- for it very well may be. But also, it is centered around Robb... I've mentioned before that I hate the chapters centered on him because they usually aren't that long and because I also like him the least within the set if characters I am using.
I really hope you enjoy it though! Thank you for sticking with me <3

"Thank you, my king," the peasant in front of Robb bowed, "May the Gods bless you and smile down upon you."
They don't, he thought to himself but smiled anyway. As soon as the peasant was gone, Robb let a rush of air out of his mouth, he was exhausted beyond all belief. Being a king, he was learning, is harder than it seemed. Hours were spent constructing battle plans, hours were spent hearing the pleas of his subjects, and hours were spent riding in the field in preparation for war. Maybe two hours were left for sleep. But that still leaves no room for fun.
"Maester," The King in the North beckoned. Maester Luwin stepped up to his side and bowed, "I trust you to act in my place while I attend to matters of war."
"Yes, my king," the Maester accepted his task and took a seat at the lower table beside Bran.
Robb stood and the entire room bowed to him, "I leave my most trusted Maester to act in my stead while I prepare for war on the Lannisters." A loud roar of cheering erupted in the hall. Who knew that so many people favored war?
He turned quickly from the people and exited the room through a secret door in the back. He was emptied into the secondary stone hallway that leads to the dungeon. Upon stumbling out of the small, rock laden doorway, Robb was greeted by a feminine shriek. Rather, more of a gasp.
"Lady Frey," even his own heart drummed at the fact that he had run into an unexpected visitor.
"My king," she lowered her head in greeting, hand still above her chest as it rose and fell in labor.
"Just Robb," he commanded her.
"Well, 'Just Robb'," she mocked playfully. Even Robb could not keep the smile from his face that she had put there, "what is a man of your stature doing way down here?" She gestured blindly to the floor covered in scum.
"I could ask you the same question," he fired back, "Being that you are marrying a king and such."
Her laughter was a gust of warm breath from her lips, "Just seconds ago you insisted that I not treat you as such," she stepped closer towards him, in what could be considered an intimate proximity, "We don't get to pick and choose our fates," Brooke Frey admitted with sadness, "you can't be a king when it suits you and someone else when it doesn't."
She was painfully right, as she spoke from experience.
"You are right, my lady." Robb confessed with a boyish smile on his face.
"However," the two of them came alight at this suggestion, "It would suit me very well if you weren't a king at this moment. I wish a companion on my adventures."
"It would be in my favor and pleasure to suit you," he answered in what he hoped was adoring fashion. Though he did not want to admit it, Robb was finding himself infatuated with the girl in front of him. Whatever charming qualities she held were gifts indeed, rendering those graced by her presence unable to do anything but what she asked and unable to deny her stunning beauty. Aged fourteen years already, at the peak of her blossoming she would find the world lain at her feet. At least, that's what Robb decided he would give her.
Offering his arm, Brooke took it gently and followed the path Robb Stark was setting.

After a glamorous afternoon, Robb's face was stretched out in a wide grin and his eyes crinkled from the laughter Brooke had effortlessly coaxed from him.
"You never cease to amaze me," he admitted over the table of the private dinner he insisted they share.
"One thing I am sure of is that you will never find me dull, Robb," her smile was natural to her face but somehow left question as to whether it was actually meant or not.
"We've many years ahead of us, you know," he warned with fire in his eyes.
"Like I said," Brooke took a sip from her wine glass before setting it down and fixing him with a mature, sultry look, "start expecting the unexpected."
Inside Robb's chest, emotions stirred. He was adoring his fiancée more and more as each minute passed. The marriage may have been arranged because of battle priorities, however Robb no longer felt as if he was being forced into this. His marriage to Brooke wasn't going to be referred to as an arrangement or a deal, in his eyes this was a match made in heaven.
Robb smiled tenderly before pushing his chair back from the table. The mahogany legs scraped softly against the stone floor and his boots clicked slowly to Brooke's side, "Would you like a dance, my lady?"
Brooke's eyebrows rose softly as she looked up into the hard blue eyes of the Tully line, and her eyes studied the hard jaw beneath the auburn scruff that adorned Robb's cheeks, "I never would have placed you as one who enjoys dancing." Even as she replied, she placed her hand inside Robb's; the skin was soft and warm. He twirled her gently once they were away from the table and once she was righted, music started drifting down to them. A laugh bubbled from Brooke Frey's lips and her head fell back so that that laugh might rise straight to the heavens.
"Might we have a Summer song?" She questioned the musicians. They nodded complyingly before switching tunes. A flute, some drums, and a mandolin combined in ear to create a happy and easy jig. Robb danced her all around the stone room, no longer cold against her skin as her flesh had begun to adjust to the frigid Northern temperatures. Through the beauty and elegance of the patterns they danced, the handsome couple only had eyes for each other. Robb was amazed as she never once let his eyes go- making it seem to him that she thinks him the only man in the world. His eyes boasted care and tenderness for her- The only one who I will ever love in this way.
After another carefree tune, the band suddenly switched to a slow song, one which made Brooke feel as if she were in a dream being cradled by the lullaby that played. The soon-to-be married couple swayed to and fro gently, like seaweed following the ebb of the tide.
"So beautiful," Robb whispered as his thumb stroked her cheek.
"Thank you," Brooke purred and leaned in to the touch.
"You have everything any man could possibly want in a single woman- you are all."
"Only because I know what it is to have none of it." She answered honestly, "What nice compliments you are giving to me," it was her turn to lend her hand. Robb leaned in to her touch and breathed in her scent of summer-- only that scent was beginning to frost over. Despite the fact that frost enslaves all of the living beauties, Robb was pleased to see that The North was not going to bring Brooke to her knees. The king was adamant that if all else were to fall, his queen must be the one thing that survives- as she is.
His fingers crept up along her cheekbone before lifting higher to brush at the thick hair that fell over the left side of her forehead. It was hidden underneath there that he found her one and only flaw. Gaping in horror at the sight of the egg white scar that went across her left temple, he gently ran his thumb over it before sitting her back in her chair.
Bending down to a high kneel, he fretted over her, "When did this happen? How?"
"Years ago," Brooke waved a dismissive hand, "Don't worry over it. I was foolish and this was my consequence."
"Someone laid their hands on you," Robb growled, "Tell me who and I'll have their head."
She chuckled and kissed the knuckles of the hand that caressed her forehead, "A man tried but did nothing more than what you see here," she pointed to her forehead, "Believe me when I say that he paid for his actions."
"You were saved," he breathed relief.
"By one of your own," she answered sweetly.
"Robb," the king paid no attention to his half brother, "your majesty." Jon Snow added the formality.
Robb held up a hand to silence the now Sworn Brother.
"One of my own?"
"Yes," Brooke nodded. Her eyes flashed upwards, looking at something behind The King in The North. Her voice became low and husky, "A wolf." As she finished her answer, her eyes flicked back down to Robb's.
He let out a chuckle and rose up to press a kiss against her scar, "I'll be sure to thank him and spare him if I ever meet him out in the woods." Brooke clasped his hand tightly in thanks. Turning from his fiancée, Robb gave his attention to his half brother, "Now, what did you need, Snow?"