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you don't actually have to be happy; just make them believe that you are.
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AS THE CARRIAGE ARRIVED Robb could feel the suspense for the Tatham's throughout Winterfell. And though, he'd never tell anybody, the more Arya asked about Hermione; about their wild adventures, the way she looked, how they met the more he'd gotten excited for her to arrive.
Five years.
Five years had passed since they last spoke, they'd lost touch after a few weeks of Hermione's departure. Though now she was back and everything would be the same, right?
His eyes watch the carriage pull around the courtyard of the Winterfell Castle, stopping in their midsts before the door opened. Lady Clara emerged first ageless and pristine, her son of four years followed suit. He wobbled on his unsure feet before reaching his mother. Then, his heart stumbled as a girl emerged from the cabin door.
She was slim and lean, her wheat blonde hair long and down her back. The girl wore a gown made of pale blue silk, and it adorned her body all too beautifully. Robb wanted to drink the woman in all day and night, yet he looked away still awaiting Hermione. Knowing her, she was bound to jump out from somewhere, surprising them all.
Robb imagined her wild curls and stern gold eyes. Lips pulled into a crazed laugh while she kicked her legs in the air on her back.
"Where is she?" Arya grumbled below him.
"I don't know," Robb whispered eyes now looking around the carriage for any sign of her, then looking to each horse-rider. "Jon, do you see her?"
"I think—
But Jon's words were drowned out by the greetings of their parents to Lady Clara. Maybe she was angry with him for not writing? Robb thought. Maybe she decided to stay in Dorne, or in Camelot, or maybe she would be arriving with her father.
"—And Hermione, you've grown so much my dear." Robb turned to his mother's voice right when she hugged the beautiful woman in the pale blue dress only to realize this wasn't a strangely beautiful woman. It was Hermione. Hermione Tatham.
