The Godswood

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We walked side by side; I followed him to wherever he was taking me. The chill had gotten colder now and bit at my skin - this was the cold I expected. As soon as Robb caught a glimpse of me shivering, he removed a layer of furs from his shoulders and settled them upon mine. I thanked him, immediately feeling his warmth.

I had no idea where we were going and I couldn’t even see the path for the darkness of the sky. Robb seemed to know, and I trusted him.

As the moon pushed the clouds aside, a dim light was spilled across the realm. By now we’d left the safety of the walls of Winterfell's keep and trees passed beside us... Where were we going?

I was close to suggesting we go back when I spotted a magnificent white barked tree standing before us, it’s crimson leaves threatening to fall in the breeze. A rather eerie face was carved into the bark; its eyes seemed to watch me. “This is the Godswood.” Robb said as we stood directly in front of the tree. He referred to the small forest, but I knew this tree was its most treasured feature.

I studied its intricate branches, recalling the stories I had heard about the Old Gods. He turned to face me then, I saw from the corner of my eye. I also turned, but much slower and more hesitantly than he had.

His smile was completely gone and he looked as if he were about to say something. It was clear that he was just as nervous as I was. He then suddenly moved, reaching into one of his pockets and holding something with his palm.

I shuffled on my feet and bit my lower lip, unsure and anxious of what he was going to present to me. Lifting his fisted hand between us, he allowed a silver chain to drop from his palm – a small Direwolf pendant hung from it.

I watched as it swung from his grasp, the silver sparkling in the moonlight. “It’s… Beautiful.” I spoke eventually, smiling up to him. He smiled back, looking relieved.

I turned, allowing him to fasten it around my neck. I held the pendant in my hand as I met his grey eyed gaze once more. “Soon you will be a Stark.” He said, finally addressing the arrangement.

“Soon, I will be a Stark.” I repeated, beaming. He laughed in response, and then looked down to his feet.

Robb then took a small step towards me, raising his eyes back to mine and his hand to my face. He gently brushed his hand against my cheek, pushing my hair backwards before kissing me.

A Northern Rose - Game of Thrones // Robb StarkWhere stories live. Discover now