I want—

SPOILERS BELOW

They do the best they can in the circumstances with her dress and maiden's cloak – some lace and silk ribbon sewn onto one of her white muslin dresses to spruce it up, their house sigil cut from a ruined cloak and stitched onto one of hers. Jeyne tries to not think of where they'd found an old, ruined cloak with a sigil in such haste, under what circumstances it had become ruined. (She tries to pretend she hadn't heard her mother discuss with the washerwomen how hard it is to get blood out of cloth, how they'd need to go through several, likely, before they found one that works.)

It's not what she had imagined her wedding would be like, if she'd imagined it at all. She can still hear her sister screaming, whore, traitor, as she walks down the aisle on her brother’s arm. She knows that behind her mother’s forced smile there is a pained acceptance and her uncle won’t meet her eyes. No one will meet her eyes.

She could have said no, she supposes. I’ll kill him, Raynald had sworn before she explained, hot tears running down her face: he didn’t force me. I love him.

Robb takes her hand before the septon at the altar, somber and flushed, his eyes tender. Maybe she’s a fool; maybe she should have lied. But it had been beyond her will, just as loving him was and always would be.

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And when he took her to his bed, his grief and the trust he had placed in her overshadowing all the doubts he might normally have had, she could have cheered. Instead she merely implemented the next stage in her plan (her mother’s plan).

There was no moon tea in the whole of the Crag, and that was something she tearfully confessed to the Wolf King when the rays of dawn lit up the bed. When they lit up the proof of her deflowering.

Robb Stark was honourable and good. Robb Stark was naive and idealistic. He took her to the Sept that very day, and there in front of her mother and his lords, swore to honour her as his wife in the eyes of the gods and men alike.

Her mother would never admit it, but she was so very pleased with the results of her plan.

They just had to wait then. Wait until Lord Frey heard of the insult he had been offered. Wait until her reached out to Lord Lannister in an attempt to heal his wounded pride. Wait until the the loyalty of the lords around the Wolf King cracked and splintered.

It should have been easy. An easy facade to maintain, an easy distance to maintain, and yet-

And yet Robb Stark, to Jeyne’s horror, was an easy man to fall in love with.

He was kind, and sweet, and thoughtful. He cared about her comfort, her safety, her opinions in a way that few others ever had. He protected her, cherished her, and was vulnerable around her in a way that softened her heart.

It was so very difficult to remain apart from a man who wept for his siblings, for his inability to protect them in her arms.

Her feelings for him grew, stronger and stronger, and so too did her guilt. She was leading her husband to his death, to the ruin of everything he had worked so hard to build.

But if she told him the truth, if she told him about the role her family were playing in the plots against him, then she would just as surely lose him. She did not know if she could live without him by her side.

For weeks she dithered, until she no longer had a choice. She knew what would happen at the wedding of his uncle. Knew that he would not be leaving the Twins alive, and her concern for him, her love for him, finally made her speak, made her confess.

Hello again!

I’m very excited to announce the daily prompts for Robbember, aka Robb Month! They’ll also be available at this elegant and finely-crafted link for your reference.