"Of Snow, Sea, and Shadows: Book 1" One Woman Keep [GoT]

Soul With Soul

It’s later in the afternoon and I find myself alone in the dining hall, tucking into a bowl of soup. I had come in late from Archery and now was faced with the consequence of eating alone. The soup was venison with carrots and potatoes, simple but hearty and warming to the core. It was getting colder by the hour and more people started to pile on the layers of clothing. Surprisingly it didn’t seem to bother me, I guess in my time of near death, I had somewhat acclimatised to the cold. The heavy door clicked shut, boots scraped across the floor tiles and Robb sat down opposite me. A King and a thief; no matter how crazy Westeros can be, for that moment in time, this seemed about the craziest thing that had ever happened. We looked at each other for what seemed like half a day, whereas it was really half a second. He slowly reached out and pulled my bowl towards him.

“Are you leaving?” he asks, his face completely calm, but I see his eyes are breaking.

“Yes, but not yet,” I reply, reaching out to take back my bowl of unfinished soup. He retracts and almost cradles it against his chest. He picks up the spoon and stirs the liquid left with a certain tenderness. Scooping some soup, he extends it to me. As I reach out my arm to take the spoon from him, he pulls back once again. I relent and he feeds me. It’s a simple gesture, makes me feel like a child. And in a sense, it is his silent way of telling me that he will always protect me; love me even.

“I don’t want you to leave,” he says, returning the spoon to the bowl.

“Sometimes I don’t want to either,” I reply and swipe the tear that fell from his eye and was cascading down his face. Silence passes once again as he sits there, trying to control himself. Right then, the sun came out and shrouded just the two of us in a paltry white glow. Dust motes danced and jumped around us and our bowl of soup. Then a heavy knock came at the door and a head poked through.

“My Lord,” the knight greeted “Tyrion Lannister has arrived.” Robb stood slowly and offered his hand.

“Either you face him on my arm, or you don’t face him at all,” Then I froze, knowing my decision would hurt him. I picked up the soup bowl and his arm dropped. He straightened his coat and headed towards the door, giving me ample time to flee into the kitchens.

Later than evening, after dinner when I am in my chambers, making sure I have everything for our journey tomorrow a sharp knock comes at the door.

“Em, Robb wants to see you,” Jon says, then acknowledges the packing “Ready for tomorrow?” he asks. I simply nod and he is gone. The walk through the sloping corridors of Winterfell, I feel the warmth seeping out of the walls where water runs rampant. I was still in my full gear, black coat, thick armour, boots, swords still on me. Before I know it, I nearly pass Robb’s door. Maybe we were closer together than we even knew. I pushed the door open and saw him sitting on the edge his bed. Like me, still in his coats, his head hung and his arms supporting him up.

“Robb?” I ask. His head flicks up and he shifts to make room for me. I sit, somewhat hesitantly. He takes my hands.

“Do you have to go?” he asks, waiting for a reply.

“You know I have to,” his flame in his eyes died once again. “Why is this such a big deal to you?” I asked, slightly annoyed.

“Because Em!” he practically shouts. He gets up, agitated, and paces the room. “You’re leaving again. It’s as if everything that I try, everything I may do to try and keep you here you just leave. Don’t you get it? The one thing my heart knew I loved selflessly before my mind knew is you. I can’t lose you again. You don’t understand, when you left, everything went wrong, my father died, I lost my sisters, Bran fell. You brought Jon for Bran and Rickon. And for me, you were enough. And now you’re going, and taking Jon with you. Do you not understand, Em? Do you not understand how much I completely and utterly love you?” I was silent. Never had Robb ever made such an outward confession to me, to anyone even. Words couldn’t sum up everything that I felt, and I knew that they hardly summed up everything he felt either. So I stood, unclasped my cloak and let it fall to the floor, closed the distance between us, and that was it. I grasped his head and kissed him, giving in to guilty pleasure, I kissed him as though the world would end. I heard his sharp intake of breath as our mouths danced around each other. He made quick work of taking off his gloves, shedding his coat, and rendering himself topless. I pushed him to the closest wall, and he grunted on the impact. I pulled away from him for a brief second and he smiled like the happiest man alive.

“I have wanted this for so long,” he says, tucking loose hair over my ear. He reaches back and then undoes his work by pulling my hair out of its cloth.

“So have I.” I say and we continue the lavish dance that we so deeply enjoy. He pushes away from the wall and wraps his strong arms around my waist as I fasten my legs around his back. He carries me over to the bed and we fall. It was a weightless, ethereal fall and we landed on soft furs. The window was fastened shut, so no air drifted in. The temperature of the room was boiling and so were our bodies. Sweat rolled over us as we rolled over each other. I straddled his waist as he sat up and began the process of undressing me. I threw my weapons belt to the floor with a sharp clang. We were lost in a blinding lust, breathing heavy and ragged. I broke the connection once more, gasping for breath, while he just shifted his attention and started kissing my neck.

“Is the door locked,” I said, voice shaking from effort.

“Does it matter?” he replied to my neck. In response I refocused myself. I had ended up under his lean frame, his elbows propping himself up either side of my head while my fingers twirling parts of his hair. Then my hands travelled over his smooth body, cut from marble and started unlacing his trousers. He flipped us over again, and I deftly removed his pants and I sat back in his lap. He grinned at me:

“Your turn,” he gently throws me under him once again and begins to undo my lower half. He pecks me on the mouth and then kisses a trail of passion down my body until he arrives at my trousers. He takes them off and kisses all the way down to my toes and back. And it was that night, where flesh melded with flesh, bone connected with bone. But most importantly, soul began to combine with soul. Though blood was not shared, our souls were. Nothing would ever be comparable to our love that night, when he finally got to show me how much he had loved and waited for this moment. And when I got to show him, how much had I.