Among Lions and Wolves • |Book 1|

.chapter thirty-seven.

She removed herself from the tangle of man and linen. Naked as the day she came into this world, Rhaella carefully slid from the bed. Where her sleeping husband lain, a soft moan sounded followed by the stretching of limbs and soft crunch of feathers.

"My love," his husky voice called out, still laddled with sleep, "come back to bed, the hour is still early."

Rhaella glanced back in the dark, a smile curving her lips. She reached a window, pushing open the shudders to allow light to flood their chamber, "The hour is very late, your grace, and the sun high. We must rise now, there is much to do."

Robb turned his head, shutting out the blinding rays with his arm. He groaned softly, stretching still. Much of his torso was exposed, the soft curls that covered his toned chest appeared inviting to Rhaella. She wanted to run her fingers through it once more. She wanted to feel the beating of his heart under the palm of her hand.

He stirred again, this time his right leg  bent and exposed. All that the bed sheet covered was his manhood and his left leg. His head had been turned in her direction, his soft blue eyes fixed on her face rather than her body. A gentle smile curved his mouth, warming her insides and sending the creatures within her belly into a frenzy.

How was it just two moons ago she despised this very man? She blamed him for all the wrong that had come to her, yet now she shared his bed and his name. A part of her still blamed him for much, but she could not blame him for everything.

Robb did not kill her mother or send her flying from a bed when she was not but six. And it was not Robb who hired a drunken fool to take her maidenhood back when she first visited Winterfell. Nor had it been his fault when her maidenhood had been taken and she had been left to die in the woods. He had warned her and she failed to heed his warning. The only fault of Robb that was truly Robb's doing alone was his love for her. His love that kept her locked within the towers of Harrenhal for some time.

"Lay with me a while longer," he held out his arms to her, beckoning her back to their bed.

"You must rise, we have no time to play man and wife," she turned away, retrieving a robe for herself.

The bed creaked beneath him as he sat up and rose slowly. His heavy footsteps called her attention toward him, a young wolf, but still as loud as a grown man.

She pressed a hand to his scruffy face, his beard shone a faint red in the sun's light. Rhaella smiled softly while stroking the wirey hairs of her husband's face.

Robb held her in his arms, close to his chest and kissed the top of her head. He did not bother to dress, nor did he truly want to. A week had passed since their wedding night, and for the first time since, it had been Rhaella who came to him. She had made the notion they should share the same bed, they were after all husband and wife.

The thought had excited him, she was his now. Though he did not get the chance to claim what had been rightfully his, he did not let it cloud his better judgment. Instead, he assured her they could wait until she was ready and when she assured him it was alright, they began.

It had been hardest on him, to watch her lay there with tears welling in her eyes so he had stopped. But there was something in her eyes, something he hadn't quite seen before. Somewhere within that week, a change had come about and she was determined to fight these demons that prevented her from moving on. He didn't know how to help her at first, but in the end he found a solution and that night had ended up the best night of his life.

She rested her head on his chest, the palm of her hand now resting over where his beating heart lay. Robb wrapped his arm around her waist, while with the other he placed it over her hand. He pressed soft kiss to her forehead and closed his eyes.

If it were not for his sister held captive in the capital, or for his father who was wrongly executed, Robb Stark would have ceased this gruesome war that claimed many of his own men. He would have returned home to take back what was stolen from him and he would so happily reside in Winterfell with his wife and pray before winter came, her belly would swell with the possibility of a heir.

A soft rap at the door pulled the two from their loving embrace. Robb reached for his robe and then made for the door.

He swung it open once his wife had assured him it was okay to do so. Outside stood his mother, along with the handmaids Robb had selected to care for his wife.

"I wish a word with you," Catelyn said to Robb. "In private."

Robb glanced behind him to find Rhaella already seated at her vanity, her maidens quick at work. He turned back to his mother, "Whatever you need to say can be said in front of my wife, mother," he had stepped back to permit her access into his chambers.

"I'm afraid it can't," she whispered, careful so her voice would not carry. "Dress and come find me, the matter is urgent."

With that Catelyn Stark quit the chambers and left Robb standing their at the door. He sighed deeply, not able to understand the hatred his mother bore Rhaella.

Closing the door slowly, her turned to find her standing once more and stripped of her robes. Her maidens set to cleansing her before dressing her for the day.

"You shouldn't keep her waiting," Rhaella said after she had been dressed and her maidens left. Robb had chosen to sit down by a fire he ordered one of the girls to light.

Now his wife was beside him dressed in a pale grey. She had taken to Stark colors better than any, though he wondered if it was more to do with her own direwolf she kept at her side.

His eyes fell to the soft white wolf larger than Grey Wind. She slept furthest from the fire, preferring the comforts of a drafty corner rather than the warmth of flames.

"It's only right," he finally said, placing his hand over her's where it rested on his shoulder. "She shouldn't be so cold to you."

"Your mother and I may have our differences, but we understand one another in ways you will never. Dress and go to her, I have matters of my own to attend to and can not stay here any longer chiding you as if you were my own son."

She removed her hand and turned away, Winter leaping to her side in a matter of strides.

Quick to change her moods, he realized. One moment she was a doting wife and the next, cold and vex. Robb stared long after she quit the chambers and then shared a look with his own direwolf.