Winter In My Heart | ROBB STARK.

LVIII. Until Dawn

Aerys had burnt Robb's grandfather and uncle for pleading their sister's safe return, oaths be damned, he deserved to be stripped of his throne and life.

"It's good to see you again, Kingslayer," Robb smirked cockily, leaning forward in his chair with eyes trailing up and down the man's appearance. "How about that one on one sword fight you requested? I think I have a better chance now."

"It's a shame it took me losing a limb for a King to find the balls to fight me," Jaime fired back, but Robb's amusement never simmered down. From the last time they met, and now, Robb still held the power over Jaime's life.

"I don't see your sister's army," Daenerys added with narrowed eyes, "I see one man, with one hand."

"She never had any intention of sending her army North," Jaime admitted truthfully, "she has Euron Greyjoy's fleet and twenty thousand fresh troops. The Golden Company, from Essos. Even if we defeat the dead, she'll have more than enough to kill the survivors."

"It's almost as if Cersei Lannister couldn't be trusted," Fianna spit, casting a dark glare towards a furious Daenerys and a defeated Jon.

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"I don't trust him," Robb muttered under his breath, walking alongside Fianna as they exited the hall, upon listening to Jon and Sansa's suggestions for his life to be spared.

"Me neither," she sighed tiredly, rubbing her forehead with her fingertips. "Lest we forget, the man came within seconds of killing me at the Whispering Wood."

"Jon is right though," Robb admitted, watching as the Kingslayer freely walked around the courtyard. "We need every man we can get."

"That doesn't mean we trust him," Fianna argued, "but I'll admit he was brave to come here by himself."

Robb stopped to look at his wife with a small, agreeing smile, watching as she let out a prolonged yawn. Fianna hadn't slept well in days, anxiously waiting for the war horn to sound and signal an incoming attack. The signs of her lack of sleep came in the form of dark under eye shadows and a pale face, making her appear older than she actually was. Occasionally, realisation would strike Robb about how young he and his wife still were. Their experiences had left them feeling aged, despite only being twenty three and twenty four respectively.

Over his shoulder, she caught eyes with Jon, having noticed that he was already looking at her. Once they made eye contact, he nodded his head towards the doorway to the crypts, signalling that he was finally ready to talk.

"I'm going to double check the food reserves, I'd imagine we'll burn through most of it feeding the soldiers for the war to come," she explained, hoping he bought her excuse. Having no reason to suspect anything, Robb departed after leaving a kiss on her cheek, prompting his wife to follow after Jon when her husband was out of sight.

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When she entered the crypts, Fianna could just about make out his dark figure further down. Having visited them enough times, she knew he was standing in front of the statue of Ned Stark. She walked slowly, debating the upcoming conversation in her head before she would eventually meet him.

"He risked his marriage for my well-being," Jon began, barely sparing her a glance as he remained fixated with Ned's face. Fianna hadn't seen the man since she was ten, and even she knew it bore no resemblance to the actual man.