Grim, ferocious and dark

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Dahlia sat silently in a chair, a hand resting over her belly with her eyes fixed on her husband across the room. Robb was silent as well, standing by the fire as staring at the flames. For a few moments, Dahlia allowed him silence, knowing he had lots of things running through his mind right then, but eventually, it all became a bit much and Dahlia sighed, bringing one of legs to rest over her chair, for once, not sitting like the proper lady she was taught to be.

"You know, Lady Olenna had a way of describing every single House in Westeros to make them sound worse than the Tyrells." She said, as Robb hummed to let her know he was listening, but, still, he didn't move. "She used to say the Lannisters were just opportunists made pretty when they covered themselves in gold. And the red blood of their enemies that they slay with little honor, considering they have none."

"And yet, her granddaughter is set to marry into that very family soon." Robb commented, as Dahlia nodded.

"Yes, she is." She said, her voice dropping a little as it usually did when the betrothal of Margaery to that wretched boy Joffrey was mentioned. "But that is just because Lannisters and Tyrells are two sides of the same coin, only the Tyrells aren't draped in blood. They're draped in flowers."

Robb laughed quietly at that, finally turning around to look at his wife.

"Did Lady Olenna tell you this too?" He asked.

"No." Dahlia smiled. "This one was on me."

"You are every bit as smart as you are pretty, my love." Robb smirked then as Dahlia raised an eyebrow at him.

"Then I must be very smart, then." She laughed when Robb did too.

"Very." He agreed quickly. "But tell me, darling. What did Lady Olenna say of the Starks?"

"Oh, the Starks..." Dahlia said, standing up from her seat to slowly walk toward Robb. "Lady Olenna had a bunch of stories about you. Grim, dark, northern Starks... Noble and honorable no doubt, but scary and ferocious nonetheless."

"Grim and ferocious Starks, huh?" Robb asked, relaxing instantly when Dahlia leaned her body against his back. "Did you ever think you'd marry one?"

"A Stark?" Dahlia asked. "No."

"Why?"

"I thought I'd marry a Lord or another from the Riverlands." Dahlia admitted. "There were talks of my Father wanting to offer me to your Uncle Edmure, you know? I even thought I'd be married to a Tyrell someday. But the thought of marrying a Stark never even crossed my mind."

"Never?" Robb asked, as Dahlia shook her head.

"You were all so far away. I'd never thought I'd end up going North of the Neck at all." She admitted. "But then I met the King of the grim, scary northmen."

"And?" Robb teased, turning around so he stood chest to chest with his wife in front of him.

"I suppose you know what happened after that." Dahlia responded in the same tone, humming in satisfaction when Robb pulled her impossibly close to him by the waist before pressing his lips to hers in a rather hungry kiss.

Dahlia wasn't sure how long they have stayed that way, but, for Dahlia, it hadn't been long enough. Still, she stepped away from Robb as soon as there was a cough from the door.

"Pardon me, your Graces." The man spoke up as Dahlia nodded her head at him.

"Lord Bolton." She greeted, as Robb took a step toward him as soon as he noticed the two letters in Lord Bolton's hands.

"Let me guess which is the good news." He said, his words playful, but his tone anything but.

Lord Bolton sighed then as he offered both letters to Robb, as if asking the King which one he wanted opened first.

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