Long May She Reign [Robb Stark]

xxvi

I was sitting on our bed whenever Robb walked into the room that night.

I had a book in front of me— "The history of the Targaryen Dynasty, from Aegon to Aerys"—I marked my page and put the book on my bedside table, looking at Robb expectantly.

"We need to talk," He said, looking at me. His voice was even but his eyes held sorrow that I'd never seen in them before.

"Yes," I agreed, "We do."

He stayed standing near the end of the bed, and I had the urge to look away, but I refused to break our connecting gaze.

"I'm sorry," He said softly, "What I did—trying to pursue another woman while I was still married—it was wrong of me."

I looked him over carefully. His hair had gotten a bit longer, but his beard was still trimmed to line his jaw. He'd gained a few scars—one that ran over his eyebrow. I longed to trace it, to feel his skin again, but I refrained and stayed where I sat.

"Before we got married," I began, "I made you an offer. I said that if you wanted a mistress, you could have one. You refused and we agreed that no one else would ever have a place in either of our hearts. You should've taken me up on the offer if you intended to have an affair."

He sighed, obviously exasperated, but sat next to me. This time I gave into the urge to look away, and my eyes examined my nails carefully.

His hand softly raised my chin up to meet his gaze, and I flinched at the intensity of it.

"I had no intentions of something like this happening. When you were taken, I was a mess. I barely ate or slept for weeks. My mother came down from Winterfell temporarily to help me while you were gone. I became more angry, and bitter. When you were finally returned, I was overjoyed, but you were so different. The fire inside you that made you the woman I love had been extinguished. I didn't know what to do." He said.

I sighed, and I knew he was right. I felt like a fraction of the woman I once was. All of my strength had been spent trying to keep myself alive in the Lannister camp, worrying about what was going on. And I grew more tired by the day—I suspected that was because of the children I carried.

But I had begun to feel better, in the past few weeks. I'd just been so caught up in trying to reclaim myself that I'd ignored Robb in the process.

But him finding comfort in another woman's arms was not my fault.

"And Talisa?" I asked, raising my eyebrows.

He winced, and he looked pained, "She is... She reminded me of you, when we first met. And she told me all about how you'd been doing, how she'd been trying to help. I was so grateful to her for helping and I just... I got lost and mistook gratitude for feelings."

"You have feelings, then?" I pulled away and looked at him.

His eyes betrayed what his mouth wouldn't, and I stood up, bracing myself on my bedside table.

"I was just confused. I was just... I didn't feel like I could be with you, touch you, hold you—treat you as my wife. But she was there, and I looked to her for comfort. I used her instead of trying to fix things with us."

"Have you taken her to bed?" I asked, walking carefully over to the desk.

"No," He said honestly.

"What has happened between you two?" I inquired, sitting at the desk and grabbing a quill and paper.

"Do we really have to go into it?" He asked, and I looked over my shoulder at him scathingly, and he ran a hand over his hair.