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The Young Wolf and the Ward of the Warden

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His eyes followed her as she graced through the courtyard. It seemed to be Lyarra’s nature to be perfect, at least in Robb’s eyes. She always dressed perfectly, even if her gowns were not as nice as those of Sansa. Lyarra could use a sword just as well as Robb, much to Arya’s envy. When Lyarra spoke, she seemed to be singing and her laugh made his heart flutter. Her hair was a beautiful dark color and her grey eyes and white skin gave her a glowing feature in the sun that managed to pierce the clouds. She currently wore a blue woolen dress, which fitted her form perfectly. Her hair was down, which framed her beautiful face.

He stood with his four siblings, Theon Greyjoy and his parents awaiting the arrival of the King of Westeros. His mother had moved Lyarra a little bit off to the side of the Starks due to her illegitimate status. Robb hated how his mother always regarded Lyarra with a deep suspicion, as a popular theory for her father was Brandon Stark, Catelyn’s former fiancé. Those that believed this argued that it certainly explained her Stark-like looks.

Once the King arrived, somewhat formal greetings and introductions were made and Ned Stark was about to offer to show Robert to the crypts.

“So Ned, where is that girl you took in?”

Lord Stark paused, hesitating slightly before speaking. “She is right there, your Grace.” He motioned for Lyarra to come closer. “May I introduce Lyarra Snow, my ward?” Lyarra sank into a well-practiced curtsey, while the king stared at her intently.

“By the Seven, you look just like her.”

Robb could tell that she was becoming more and more uncomfortable underneath Robert’s attentions, and Ned saw how the Queen began to look almost enraged. The Lord of Winterfell led the King into the crypts in order to defuse the awkward moment.

The feast began later that day, the first of many to be had whilst the Royal family stayed at Winterfell. Robb had decided to escort Lyarra to the Great Hall from her chambers. Robb felt nervous when he knocked on her door, but he was determined not to let it show. He heard that musical voice give him permission to enter and when he saw her dressed in a beautiful, silvery grey gown with blue sleeves, his world stopped turning. She was a vision from the gods. She had been his closest friend throughout his childhood, his rock, and now his love. She looked at him with those enchanting eyes.

“Oh, hello Robb.”

“Good evening, my lady. May I escort you to the hall?”

Lyarra seemed a little taken a back by his sudden formal manners, as he was normally very easygoing around her. She had noticed some of his stares recently, but she never confronted him about them. She nodded with a faint blush coloring her cheeks

“That is good or I would have looked like a fool carrying these in with me.”

Robb withdrew five blue roses from behind his back. For a girl who enjoyed horse riding and sword fighting, the Stark boy knew Lyarra had a weakness for blue winter roses, which were always her favorite. He smiled with delight as the girl’s teeth showed in a happy grin. Robb would always do whatever he could to make Lyarra cheerful. She graciously accepted the small boutique of flowers and linked arms with the heir of Winterfell as they made their way towards the feast to which they were already late.

Lyarra managed to get a seat somewhat close to the main table, with a few knights and ladies that had accompanied the king and a few knights and captains of the Starks. As they walked in, all eyes were on them. Ned Stark was among those who paled at the sight of the blue roses in Lyarra’s hands.

After eating, many of the partygoers took to dancing. Lyarra and Robb were inseparable on the dance floor and off, something Robb very much enjoyed. Robb saw the King approaching, after he had put aside the serving girl he was with. Robb then grabbed Lyarra’s hand and ran from the hall with her. The two made their way back to her chambers and by the time they reached it, Robb had decided to ask Lyarra a question that made his throat close up just thinking about it. Before he could say anything, her arms were wrapped around his neck and her lips were on his own. They kissed so deeply and for so long that he began to see stars. He tasted sweet honey and wine on her lips.

When they finally separated, he gripped her shoulders and said, “Lyarra, will you marry me?”

And Robb was happy to receive a second kiss as well as her answer.

The next morning, Robb knocked the door of his father’s solar.

“Father, I wish to talk to you.” After seeing he had his father’s attention, he continued nervously. “As you are Lyarra’s guardian, you have final say in whom she marries.” Ned Stark nodded slowly, regarding him carefully. Robb then felt words tumble out of his mouth. “I have asked for her hand in marriage and she said yes.” He took a breath and calmed down. “Do I have your permission?”

Ned Stark looked at his eldest child and did not speak for a while as he studied him.
“Yes you have my permission to marry her. Treat her well and honor your vows. I believe she will be a great companion for you, especially when you take over the rule of the North.”

The wedding of Robb Stark, the heir of Winterfell, was completed within a week, as Robert Baratheon wanted to attend it before he left for King’s Landing. The two were thrown together after the bedding ceremony in which Lyarra’s beautiful gown was torn. When they both were alone in Robb’s chambers, Lyarra Stark looked at her new husband with a look that resembled fright. He immediately knew what troubled her.

“We don’t have to do this now. I can wait until your ready.”

Her face relaxed and she exhaled deeply as she slipped on a nightgown, while he found a pair of breeched. She curled up next to him in their wedding bed.

“Thank you, Robb. I love you,” she whispered before falling asleep. Robb Stark decided at that moment that he was the luckiest man in the Seven Kingdoms.

The joy the Starks enjoyed from the wedding did not last long. Bran had fallen from a high tower and was unconscious. Catelyn Stark was inconsolable as she attended her son. Ned Stark had departed along with Arya and Sansa to be the next Hand of the King. When Ned said farewell to his son, he left behind his sword.
“Ice belongs in the hands of the Lord of Winterfell, in the North. Take care of it and defend our family with it.”

Management of the North had fallen heavily on Robb’s shoulders, while Lyarra was managing the household. Whenever Robb felt stressed or overwhelmed by his duties, his wife was there to lift him up. Eventually, even Catelyn Stark left after Bran was attacked, leaving Lyarra to care for young Rickon.

Then one night, when Robb arrived at his chambers, he noticed Lyarra was standing there with a determined look on her face.

“Robb, I am ready.” Slowly, she took off her gown and small clothes revealing her beautiful body to her lord husband. He noticed her admiring his physique after he had shed his clothing.

“Just please be gentle. I have heard that it hurts the first time.”

Robb Stark took her words to heart that night and soon her cries of pain were cries of pleasure.

The new Lord and Lady of Winterfell had settled into their roles nicely, and Bran had finally woken up and Lady Catelyn had returned. Then grave news arrived from King’s Landing.

“My Lord, Lord Eddard Stark has been arrested and the King is dead.”

Robb sat stunned for a moment as he processed the news. He stood and while squeezing his wife’s hand, he said, “Call my banners. When my father left, he told me to defend our family.” He looked at his wife who nodded her approval. He looked at her and said, “I will bring my father back home. You will stay here with Bran and Rickon.” He felt her eyes glare at him.

“I will not sit here waiting in agony everyday to know if you are alive. The Mormont women ride into battle and I shall as well.”

Robb agreed, though somewhat unhappy and he would feel much better keeping her safe at Winterfell. However, he knew there was no way to convince her to stay. Plus, this could be the beginning of a long and bitter war, and he would be lost without her company. After all, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives.