[Musebox] - "I Told Robb I’m Sure to Give Him Twins"

[widow_of_the_crag]

She had comforted Robb in his grief as he recovered from the news of Winterfell. His two younger brothers had been killed and his home seized by a man he considered a friend. It was a loss that had rendered him broken and vulnerable, struggling to find some foothold in the midst of his sorrow. Jeyne had offered her embrace and then her body, allowing his anguish to be buried into her again and again. In that moment, she hadn't seen the king that had taken her family home or the Young Wolf that had captured her father. She saw a boy no older than she was, suffering and broken.

But that had only lasted a night. She lingered in his bed until he had fallen asleep, feeling a pang of regret that hadn't existed before. Her mother had always been strict in her upbringing, reminding Jeyne that she was worthy of a Lannister and should conduct herself as befitting such a bride. While those marriages had never appeared, it was a lesson her mother wouldn't let her forget. So how would she respond, knowing her daughter had bedded the man that had laid siege on them.

Perhaps as well, she was a craven, afraid to see any shame in his eyes or a dismissal in his tone. She was a maid when he took her. It took more courage than she believed she possessed to let her body speak in place of her head. Yet it seemed none of that remained by the time the sun crested the horizon.

She hid away during the rest of his stay at his castle, only emerging from her rooms in time to hear him name another as keeper of the Crag in his absence. There was something he had to see to in the Riverlands before continuing onward to Casterly Rock. Her last glimpse of him was as he steered his horse from the courtyard and left with a large company, his hair tussling in the wind. She shielded her heart from the pain of that sight and feigned the same relief her mother exhibited. It didn't matter. None needed to know what happened between them. It was possible to pretend that she was as innocent as before, even if her heart knew otherwise.

***

A year passed, one of hardship and heartbreak. In the company of a young maid from the Crag, Jeyne appeared in Robb's camp, the battle against the Lannisters still strong. She wrapped herself in a frayed cloak, dressing no better than a servant herself. Her maid remained behind as Jeyne searched the campgrounds for the King's tent. There were others in his presence, men that were helping him plan for the coming battle, many of them were figures she recognized. Great Jon Umber, Lord Karstark, and Roose Bolton, men that left her trembling.

She cleared her throat, a bit more loudly than she intended. The men looked up at her, but none seemed to know her. She pulled back her hood, waiting to see that acknowledgement in Robb's eyes. "I have come to see King Robb."

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[kingofbadlifechoices]

Somewhere between battles and invading the Westerlands he married Roslin. It was a short feast. Nothing great and fancy. It was true that she was more beautiful than most of Frey's daughters. Still, she wasn't like Jeyne. Her face was friendly but without warmth and her teats were smaller than apples. She had cried during the bedding, scared of what he would do to her. There wasn't a click between them, yet it was his duty to make her his wife, to make sure she'd carry an heir. And he had tried to assure her, to tell her about Winterfell and the North. That it wasn't as harsh and cold as in most stories.

He had hoped to marry and fall in love. Yet he found nothing about her that he could love. But then again, it had stopped being about what he wanted ages ago. His life has been about duty, about wha the owes his men, the North, his crown. And somewhere along all that Robb lost himself.

And even though he had visited Roslin quite some times, hoping his seed would take root inside of her, nothing ever happened. Eventually he feared she was barren, yet he did not speak the words. When Roslin spoke of her moon blood he faked a smile and told her that it wasn't a bad thing. Next time would be better. And she would nod and give him a fake smile as well.


There were times he thought about Jeyne. That sweet girl from the Crag with her brown curls and kind eyes. It felt different with her. He could have loved her if duty did not demand of him that he kept his promise to house Frey. Robb had grown tall over that year and he was no longer without beard either. Yet headaches plagued him almost every hour of the day and at times it felt as if he was going to snap in two under all that pressure.

Robb hears her voice but does not look up when she mentions her name. He is too busy gazing at the map and giving orders to lord Bolton to take a smaller path that should go parallel with the King's Road.

"I will be with you shortly," he finally mutters.