'When you play the Game of Thrones,
You win.
Or you die.
There is no middle ground.'
In which the Princess of the Storm is spun into a whirlwind of chaotic events, all beginning with a single choice to choose Lord Eddard Stark as the new Hang to the...
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MAESTER LUWIN HAD TAKEN PROPER CARE OF CATELYN'S HANDS. Stitching them up and applying creams to stop infection. He demanded in his gentle way that he look over Valencia, even if she promised that she was fine. But when he looked over her properly, the maester discovered severe damage to her stomach. The skin was bruised an ugly purple, located just above her uterus, blood was rushing to the area and pain absorbed her comfort. Luwin was originally very concerned with the amount of pain she was in, but once Valencia explained she was also bleeding, he understood completely. The pain in her head would subside after some much needed rest. Once maester Luwin finished looking over her, he allowed her to leave his chambers, and that she would be sore for a little while, but so far, all was fine.
But that didn't stop Robb from worrying about her, once he made sure his mother and brother were alright he turned to Valencia and he hadn't let her out of his sight since.
She had asked about the fire and he confirmed it was a diversion so Bran would be alone and everyone's focus was on the burning of the building. Valencia as of now, sat on her bed, dressed in a thin nightgown of black. Her thick brown hair hung in loose curls. Robb paced in front of her, gnawing at his nails, in his loose pants and no shirt, both of them ready for a much needed rest.
"None of this makes sense," he said, his pacing fast. "The others found where he was hiding. In the stables of all places."
Valencia nodded and yawned, "I thought he smelt of horse."
"Why would he want to murder a ten-year-old?" He questioned continuing his pacing, Valencia sighed and stood up.
She reached out halting him from his pacing. "Do not fret, we will find out who did this," she soothed softly, Robb looked into her deep eyes and found himself becoming calm.
"What if you and my mother weren't there, Bran would be dead. I wouldn't know what to do if I lost my brother," Robb whispered softly looking down to the floor. Valencia didn't know how to comfort someone, but she tried her best, wanting to understand how Robb felt.
"It's a good thing that your mother has so much devotion for all of you, otherwise Bran would be lost," Robb's eyes levelled with her own. "She was brave tonight, and you need to be as well. Yes, Bran could have died, and it is very surreal to imagine. But you must remain strong, for yourself and for your mother," Valencia advised softly, yet with sternness to get her point across.
Robb nodded, "I'm glad you are alright," he whispered. "I don't know what I would do if you were hurt." She felt his hands trace soft patterns over her belly, where a bruise had formed.
Valencia blushed at his worry and carefulness over her, "you need not worry about me, Robb. I can take care of myself."
The Lord of the North raised his other hand and cupped her cheek. "I know you can, but you and I, were married now. Which means, I do have to worry about you, and you don't need to completely take care of yourself anymore." Valencia's cheeks burned scarlet, not even Jon spoke these words to her. She felt his fingers touch her tender flesh through her dress.
