ROBB - X

                                    

                                          
SHE WAS REALLY THERE. Robb spent the night restless. He wanted to get up, to go to the infirmary and see her, but Talisa had been clear. He only prayed that his worst fears had not come true and swore to himself then and there that if any man had dared to lay a hand on her, he would ensure they paid for it with their lives.
Morning came and he had received no word of Aryadne's condition. He barely listened to the discussion around him as he and his lords sat for their usual meeting. "And finally, Your Grace..." Ser Stevron Frey said. His hesitation was met by glares from a few of the other lords. Sighing, he continued, "We wished to speak with you about the princess."
"What of her?" he asked a little too quickly.
"Well... we hear that her absence from King's Landing was noted over a month ago. Her guard also disappeared, but we believe he has joined Stannis' army. And—"
His patience was wearing thin. "What are you saying, Ser?"
The Greatjon had had enough. Huffing, he banged his cup down on the table. "We think she's a spy."
"A spy?" he repeated. He didn't know whether to laugh or curse them all. "She was half dead when she arrived!"
"And half mad, apparently. Both can be an easy pretence. With the Queen as her mother, no doubt she learned from the best."
Karstark eagerly agreed, "Hear hear! I say we put her out on a road back to Casterly Rock, or perhaps there is room enough in her uncle's cell."
The Greatjon snorted. "Uncle or father?"
A chorus of voices were silenced instantly as he slammed a fist against the table. "Enough! I know there are some areas of doubt—"
"Some?"
With a glare to silence him, Robb continued, "But I have found no reason to question her. She cared for Bran after the attacks on him, and she risked her safety helping my father investigate the King's lineage. If not for her, I would have been blindsided by Stannis' raven."
"So why is it that Ned lost his head, not her?"
He took a deep breath, bracing himself against the table as he stood. "I believe her to be the one true child of Robert Baratheon, and considering that we just heard of the massacring of his bastards in King's Landing, I very much doubt that she was safe there. You may not trust her, but I do."
"Hear, hear."
All went quiet, looking to Maege Mormont. It wasn't always simple to anticipate her, wilful as she could be, but even this came as a surprise. "My lady?"
"I saw the girl brought in. That were no act. As I've gathered, she left her home, her family, travelled mostly alone for more than a month. She's a princess, not a spy. If she could, she would have given up by now. But she's here and she's asking for our help. Watch her, certainly, but do not put her our just yet."
Bolton, who had so far remained quiet, listening closely to every word, spoke up, "I concur. She may prove useful."
He did not like to hear her spoken of like an object, a bargaining chip, but knew better than to push his luck. "So it is agreed, then. I will speak with her as soon as she is ready."
—
It was midday when he received word from Aryadne. He had a place set out for them on a hill overlooking the camp, private but in full view — Talisa's strict policy against men in Aryadne's tent had only solidified his fear for what had happened to her, and the last thing he wanted was for her to see him as a threat.
They rode up there together, accompanied by guards and servants. Every now and then, he spared her glances. She was much thinner, her skin greyish and her eyes slightly sunken, missing the light they once had. He thanked the Gods that she had found them when she did. It was clear that she wouldn't have survived much longer. Reaching the top of the hill, he offered a hand to help her from her horse. To his relief she accepted. Her grip remained on his shoulder when she was down, her gaze fixed nervously on the short walk to the table. "May I help you?" he gently offered.