Robb Stark. The Young Wolf. The King in the North. He had so many names now that Dahlia wasn't even sure which one to call him by anymore. Well, no. She knew. Your Grace. That was what he was now for all of his Lords - your Grace. A King. The King of the North and the Trident. A boy of 18, forced to grow far too quickly and far too much. They had made him a crown. The Lady Catelyn had told Dahlia that it look almost exactly the same as the ancient crown from the Kings of Winter.
"After Torrhen Stark bent the knee to Aegon Targaryen, only the gods know what the Dragon King did with his crown." She had said. "But my Father's smith made a wonderful job of recreating it."
"It really looks incredible." Dahlia had agreed, her eyes falling on Robb for a second, as he talked with his men while constantly moving the crown atop of his head. "I don't think Robb appreciates the weight of it, however."
"How could he?" Lady Catelyn sighed, quietly. "He's just a boy and carrying the weight of a crown in his head. Oh, my boy..."
And the two ladies were right, as magnificent as the iron and bronze crown was, Robb Stark didn't feel comfortable in the slightest wearing it. And try as he might, the poor boy could not figure out the best way to wear it.
"You have got to stop fidgeting with your crown so much, Robb." Dahlia had told him one night, when it was only the two of them in his chambers. "Especially around the Lords. They notice, you know?"
"I know they notice it, Dahlia." Robb sighed, the crown in his hands as he looked down at it. "I just... I just don't feel right, wearing it."
"It was made for you." Dahlia said even though she knew that was not exactly what Robb was referring to.
Lifting his eyes from the crown in his hands, and toward the girl sitting across for him in his chair in his chamber, he knew she understood.
"Not under my request." He said, as Dahlia sighed.
"I don't think any crown is made under the request of their bearer." Dahlia said, standing up from her seat to walk over to Robb and sit beside him at the edge of his bed. "Not the ones that count, at least."
"What do you mean?" Robb frowned as Dahlia shrugged with a small smile.
"A King who demands a crown is no King at all, is he?" She said, reaching a hand over to caress her fingers over one of the nine sharp spikes of the crown. "Crowns are passed down or given. You received your crown from your people because they saw in you a ruler they would be willing to follow. Our son will receive this crown after you, just as he will receive our values. He will be King after you because he'll be passed the position. And you will be King now, because your people chose you."
Robb turned to look at Dahlia then, a small smile on his lips as he watched the girl touch his crown with a mixture of apprehension and wonder. He could understand it. He felt the exact same whenever the crown was anywhere near him. Which was mostly all the time now that it had been forged.
"I just feel sometimes like they may have chosen wrong." He admitted, as Dahlia nodded.
"They haven't." She said, a reassuring smile on her lips as she looked at Robb as well.
"How do you know?"
"Because, if I had been given the chance, I would have chosen you too."
Robb chuckled then, a warm feeling of fondness taking over his heart at the girl's words. She impressed him, Dahlia Frey, each day more, she impressed him. And, for the first time, Robb found himself actually pleased with the arrangement for their marriage. She was every bit as bright as she was beautiful, Dahlia Frey, and she had a kind heart. He had seen it. And if he were to be honest, he had taken full advantage of it - having her in his chambers more often than not as she was forced to hear him rambling about the war and the Lannisters and his responsibilities and, now, his crown. But every time, Dahlia had done so, listening to him, comforting and even advising him when she could. She had been there for him ever since he took her from her home, as a wife should be and Robb suddenly felt bad, not having paid attention to her half as much as she had to him. After all, if he was suddenly trusted the responsibilities of a King, Dahlia Frey would soon be trusted the responsibilities of a Queen. And even if she didn't show it, Robb knew it affected her just as much as it affected him.
"When we make your crown, we can make it golden, if you want." He said and Dahlia giggled.
"Golden?" She repeated, her brown eyes finding his as a hint of amusement shined in them. "No. Bronze and iron are the metals of the North. My crown should be forged the same as yours."
"Maybe some gemstones, then." Robb offered. "Iron and bronze are much too dull for your head, love."
At that, Dahlia blushed, her eyes leaving Robb's for a second to fall down toward his crown instead, again. She would be the first to admit it. There wasn't much in Robb's crown that attracted her at all. It was the perfect crown for a warrior King such as the Young Wolf and it fit perfectly to the image of King Robb, but he was right. It was dull and Dahlia did enjoy her fair share of color.
"I have always really enjoyed the shine of the Turquoise." She admitted shyly as Robb smiled a bit. "Margaery used to say the tone would go very well with my skin."
"Then we shall find some of those gems to put upon your crown when the time comes." Robb decided, his words sounding more like a promise than anything else. "I would love to see with my own eyes if the Lady Margaery is correct."
"She usually is. Especially when vesture is involved." Dahlia giggled again, her fingers still tracing one of the spikes of Robb's crown as she lifted her eyes again to meet Robb's. "Thank you, Robb. This... This means a lot."
Robb nodded in understanding. He knew what she was saying, and she wasn't just thanking him for the gemstones he promised her. She was thanking him for the meaning behind his words. The one he hadn't said out loud, but that he hoped she knew. If her reaction was anything to go by, he could assume she did, but making assumptions was never something Robb Stark was ever really good in nor did he enjoy it.
"I want you to be comfortable, Lady Dahlia." Robb said, grabbing her hand that was still in his crown in his hand as he looked down at her, their eyes meeting halfway so that he could convey to her all of the sincerity with which he meant his words. "I... I can't say I know how our life is going to be from now on and, especially after we wed. What I can say is that, no matter what happens, you will not be alone. I vow to stay beside you and help you with everything I can. I know I took you from your home and from your family, but I vow to do my best to be it for you. Your home, your family. I'll be it for you for as long as you want me to. And... And maybe, with all our duties, I won't be able to stay beside you at all times, but I want you to know that it will never mean that I'm leaving you alone."
"Robb..."
"You are to be my Queen." Robb continued, wanting to say everything he meant to say before Dahlia could interrupt him and he lost all the courage he had been saving for this. "And as my Queen, you are to be respected by my people - our people. But, more importantly, you are to be respected by me."
"You already respect me, dear." Dahlia smiled, the term of endearment rolling off her tongue so easily it made Robb's heart soar in his chest for a second. "You... You are much more than I have ever dared dream in a husband."
"And I promise you to keep it that way." Robb promised, bringing Dahlia's hand up to his lips to press a gentle kiss to the back of it. "I promise to never hurt you or disrespect you in any way. I promise to do my best to keep any danger to befall you."
"And I promise to be a loyal and devoted wife. I promise to stand behind you in every decision you make and advise you to the best of my abilities. I promise to be the best Mother I can to any children we might have and teach them well." Dahlia smiled again, a blush coming back to her cheeks when Robb kept his blue eyes on her, pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "This moment seem to be better than any vows we might exchange in a wedding."
"I agree." Robb nodded with a smile. "It's almost like our own little secret marriage."
"Almost." Dahlia giggled. "Though I would appreciate having a septon present."
"We could do it." Robb offered, an excited glimmer shining behind his eyes.
"What? You mean now?"
"If you want to..."
"Would you like to?"
"Would you?"
And when Dahlia didn't respond, but smiled, Robb knew he had his answer. Leaning down toward the girl beside him, he meant to capture her lips to his in a kiss, but, before it could be done, there was a knock on his door and Robb pulled away from Dahlia with a groan, so deep in his throat he almost sounded like Grey Wind for a moment.
"Your grace?" A young voice called from outside the door and, sending an apologetic look at Dahlia, Robb stood up to walk toward the door.
"Wait!" She called, standing up as well as she reached for Robb's arm and grabbed it in her hand, causing the boy to stop and turn to look at her, instead, a frown in his face as he watched her. He almost sighed in annoyance when Dahlia reached for the crown at the foot of his bed and placed it over his head, pulling a single curl of his dark red hair to fall over it after fixing it in his head and leaning up in her tiptoes to press a single, quick, chaste kiss to his lips. "There you are, my King."
And, this time, it was Robb's turn to blush. Smiling at the girl, he nodded in a silent thank you - afraid that, if he spoke up, his voice would sound as weak as his knees felt - before turning away from her and walking toward the door as he pulled it open.
"Your grace." Olyvar greeted as soon as Robb appeared in front of him, before bowing again when he noticed his sister standing there as well, a few meters away from her betrothed. "My Lady."
"Olyvar." She greeted, with a bow of her own.
"Your grace, forgive me the interruption, but a raven came." Olyvar said, looking back at Robb as he offered his King the parchment in his hands. "From Dragonstone."
"Dragonstone?" Robb repeated, as he turned the roll in his fingers for a moment, before nodding at Olyvar. "Well, thank you, Olyvar. Now, if you excuse me."
"Your grace." Olyvar bowed again. "My Lady."
And just then, Robb closed the door to his chambers again. Dahlia watched as Robb examined the parchment in his hands, specifically, the sygyl in it.
"Stannis, isn't it?" Dahlia asked, her voice snapping Robb back to reality. "Stannis Baratheon."
"Aye." Robb nodded, walking over to his bed as he sat down again. "But he's not using the crowned stag that his brother used to use. Look."
And so, Dahlia did. Walking closer to Robb, she took her seat again, beside him on the bed as she looked at the parchment in his hands, frowning at the stag there, imponent in front of a heart in flames.
"What does this mean?" She asked, as Robb shrugged.
"I'm not sure." He admitted, before opening the scroll, as Dahlia looked away and allowed Robb to read the message over.
She jumped, however, when Robb stood up suddenly. Turning to look at the boy, Dahlia gasped quietly when she noticed how he paced around the room, the letter crumbled up in his hand and a deep frown on his face.
"Robb?" Dahlia called, receiving nothing in response. "Robb, darling? Is everything alright?"
"Dahlia..." Robb mumbled, stopping for a moment as he stared at the girl in front of him. "Dahlia, Dahlia..."
"Robb." Dahlia whispered gently, standing up as she walked over to him and grabbed her hand softly. Very gently, she started to coax his fingers open so she could take a look at what was written in the letter that had affected Robb so dearly. "Could I... Robb, could I..."
"Yes." He nodded, opening his fist for her so she could pull the letter from his hand. "Yes, yes. Please."
So, Dahlia did. She grabbed the letter from his hands and rolled it open, her eyes flying over the letters as she gasped.
Robb Stark, Lord of Winterfell.
I, Stannis of House Baratheon, rightful heir to the Iron Throne, declare upon the honor of my house that my brother Robert left no trueborn heirs. The boy Joffrey, the boy Tommen, and the girl Myrcella being born of incest between Cersei Lannister and her brother Ser Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer.
By right of birth and blood, I do this day lay claim to the Iron Throne of Westeros.
Let all true men declare their loyalty.
"By the gods..." Dahlia whispered, sitting back down on the bed behind her as she placed the letter down beside her. "Robb..."
"Do you know what that means?" Robb was quick to ask, noticing Dahlia's shocked reaction as well. "Love, do you know what that means?"
"It means Joffrey is not the King." She said.
"No." Robb shook his head, as Dahlia frowned. "No, not only that, I... Gods, I... I told you about my brother Bran, didn't I?"
Dahlia nodded then, when Robb knelt down in front of her, grabbing both of her hands in his as he searched her eyes with his.
"Yes." Dahlia said. "The... The little lord. The one that can't walk, right? Who fell from the tower."
"We assumed he fell, Dahlia." Robb corrected, his eyes and word frenetic, causing Dahlia to rub her thumbs against Robb's hands in hopes of calming him down at least a little bit. "We... We assumed, but... But Bran had climbed that tower up and down a thousand times. He had never fallen. Not even as a little boy. He had never... There was no way... But... But in the same week the Royal family comes to Winterfell... That's when it all changed. That's..."
"Robb... What are you saying?"
"Love." Robb whispered. "Bran saw Cersei and Jaime together at the tower and they pushed him down."
"Robb, darling... That's a dangerous accusation."
"But it has to be true, love." Robb insisted. "It's the only thing that makes sense. We found a blonde hair up on the tower. That was the only reason why my Mother captured Tyrion Lannister a few months ago. She thought... She thought he had been the one to do it and then send someone to try and kill Bran."
"Someone tried to kill Bran?" Dahlia frowned, as Robb nodded.
"After he was pushed out of the window." He said. "A man creeped into his room with a knife to try and murder him."
"My gods..."
"He's only alive because Mother and Summer were in the room with him."
"Oh, Robb..." Dahlia sighed, running a hand over his hair and taking his crown off of his head to place it down beside her on the bed. "He's just a boy. He shouldn't have gone through that."
"A boy of ten." Robb nodded with a small pout. "And why would anyone want to kill a boy of ten if he is not even the heir to anything?"
"Because they have a secret." Dahlia said.
"And what secret is more meant to be kept that way than incest?"
"Robb..."
"Do you believe me, Dahlia?" Robb asked, his blue eyes shining with something that Dahlia could only describe as desperation. "Do you?"
"I do." Dahlia nodded as Robb smiled. "I do, Robb. I do. But... But even if it is true. What... Wait. Robb, where are you going?"
When she called his name, Robb stopped after having stood up to walk out of the room. Turning around to look at the girl, he smiled.
"I'm going to talk to the Kingslayer." Robb said.
"Alone?" She frowned, as Robb just chuckled and whistled lowly.
Dahlia turned when there was a low hustling sound behind her and widened her eyes when she saw Grey Wind standing up in his four legs as he slowly made his way across the chambers toward Robb. She rolled her eyes gently with a smile, taking in the sight in front of her. Robb Stark, the Young Wolf, looking every bit the King he was and as terrifying as the direwolf beside him. Grey Wind wasn't growling or snarling or baring his teeth. He didn't need to. He loved Robb and he had warmed up enough to Dahlia already, so, whenever he was around them, he was calm. Still, the grey giant wolf was never actually relaxed. He was always attentive, ready to put his life on the line for Robb's and listen to his every command. And if that didn't explain the name the common folk had given Robb, it at least explained why every soldier - even their own - was terrified of meeting Robb in the open field.
Robb Stark, the Young Wolf. Dahlia could see it and, right now, he was almost a picture perfect King. Except...
"Take care of yourself." Dahlia warned, her hands behind her back as she walked closer to Robb. "I am aware you are the King and you have people ready to die and kill for you. I'm also aware the Kingslayer is in chains, but just... Take care of yourself, yes?"
"Have you grown fond of me, love?" Robb teased, echoing the same question he had asked her the first night they had together.
This time, however, Dahlia felt herself blushing as she nodded.
"I did, actually, your Grace." She responded, a small smirk forming on her lips when Robb choked quietly in surprise. He watched her with soft eyes as she raised her hands over his head and placed his crown over his head again, the same auburn curl from before being pulled out from his messy hair. "There. A proper King now, with his crown."
Robb smiled then, nodding his head just barely, unsure on what to say without making himself sound dumb. Instead, Robb just held out his arm to her and escorted the girl back to her own chambers, pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek as he wished her a goodnight and watched her as she smiled at him and closed her door in front of him.
Robb sighed, the mission of going to talk to the Kingslayer almost completely vanishing from his mind as he stood there for a moment, wondering how she would look, as a proper Queen soon, with her own crown as well.