"He has the wolf's blood..." Robb answers softly, a smile forming around his lips. It would mean the boy would be truly his. Truly of Winterfell. Of the North. "According to my father's tales my aunt had it. And his older brother. Wild and difficult to tame."

It pained him. The choices he should make. Love or duty. Himself or all those others.

"I know of that. I am a man wed." To a barren woman. "My marriage is not a happy one, if you wish to know. It is one of duty." And he did not particularly liked to bed Roslin. Despite her beauty it felt like sticking your cock into a pile of snow. Unmoving and ice cold.

And here he was sitting with his children. Two strong boys with a mop of hair similar to that of his own.

"Well, I am a rebel to the crown. It cannot get any worse, to be fair. Have you heard the stories of me changing into a wolf during battle?"