driftfleet | [closed]

She had remained with him for several days, only pulling away to oversee her duties in the early morning before finally returning to Robb's side. She kept vigil during the night, waiting for any sign that her husband would wake. Sleep had been elusive to her, interrupted nearly every hour by the slight twitch of his arm or a change in his breathing. Yet each time she pulled herself out of sleep, believing that at last she would see his eyes opening, she would only be met with disappointment.

Jeyne could only run for so long without rest. Despite her hesitation, exhaustion won out. She had rested her head against Robb's bed, leaning her cheek against his hand. Dreams had a hold on her, blocking out the sudden shift of his body and the words he whispered.

It wasn't until he pulled his hand free to touch his chest that she stirred, her eyes blurry and red. Her mind was dazed, forgetting momentarily where she was and what had happened. "Is it dawn yet?" She asked softly.

Robb has no idea that someone has been with him. The fatigue that had come over him seemed to be great and never ending and eventually he has been back in Westeros. Standing amidst traitors, like a lamb brought to the slaughter.

His eyes are opened wide and he breathes quickly. Finally he moves to gaze at his chest, knowing, remembering that it should not be whole at all anymore. His heart should not beat and he should not be breathing.

"Gods..." he says softly before he drags his hands over his face. Except for the familiar strain coming from the arrow he once took in his arm there is no other feeling. As if those arrows never hit him at all. As if the lords of Atroma dragged him away from the Twins, patched him up with their modern technical inventions and blew life right back into him.

It takes a while before he realizes that someone is speaking, that he is not alone and he stiffens immediately. For a while he just gazes at the young woman next to him. She is just waking up, stirring slowly.

Her hair reminds him of Jeyne.

Everything starts to filter in. The cold of the room, the ache in her joints and the heavy disappointment that she felt in knowing that her husband was asleep. She rubbed her eyes, still adjusted to the dark and the shadows that seemed to linger about, each taking the shape of those she had left behind.

When she glanced at Robb, her first thought was that he was a shadow as well. Sorrow struck her deeply, twisting inside her like a sickness. How many nights had been like this? Dreaming that she woke in her bed and her husband was standing before her, safe and returned from the the Twins.

But slowly, her head started whirring to life. As her gaze started to focus, the shadow that looked like her husband had not disappeared or formed into anything else. Those same blue eyes that she had longed for were locked onto her as well. For a moment, she could only stare at him dumbfounded, afraid to breath, afraid to feel her heart beating.

Please don't be a dream!

"Robb?" She whispered.

It takes an awful long time before everything starts to settle in. He lives here while being dead there. For a moment he thinks of Kirk and his theory about creating new streams from existing rivers. And then he realizes that he is gazing at the face of his lady wife. Robb blinks a couple of times before he is able to respond properly.

He starts to frown deeply at her, the look on his face almost a wary one.

"Jeyne?" Finally he leans forward a little while folding his hands in his lap. "Why are you here? You should not be here."

But she is here and he is alive.

"You should not be here..." Still, he cannot help to brush his fingers against her hand. Just a check if she is real and this is not another dream.

The words are painful, even though she knows he doesn't intend them to be. They strike at the source of her guilt, stirring that feeling that she is not worthy of him back to life. She pushes them aside hastily, not wishing to dwell over long on the matter, not when he is finally here, finally awake.

When his hand touches hers, she grasps hold of him, raising her free fingers to brush against his cheek. "I am here." She told him, emotion heavy in her voice. "I should be here. I should be wherever you are, no matter where it is."

She had no desire to return to an existence that did not include him. "Gods, I can't believe it." Months of longing, a week of waiting and finally he was at her side again. It was better than a dream, it was a gift from the gods. "I've missed you. I have missed you so much."

A part of him expects her to disappear again. Or that this is some sort of cruel jape invented by the lords of Atroma. Or lord Frey. Or both. When she touches him he does not back away. He merely frowns a little deeper.

"No...you should not be here..." But he leans in to her touch as if nothing has happened and for a moment the frown disappears from his face and he closes his eyes. His fingers curl around hers. "...This is not where you wish to be." And then laughs. The sound soft and without any sort of joy.

"You truly wish to be dead, my sweet Jeyne?"

But then again, this could be his new stream. His new future far away from a crown, from traitors, from that dreadful wedding. The second time he laughs it is more sad than anything else.

"I missed you as well..." She must have been suffering after his death. Punished for loving a rebel who thought himself a king. Still he does not move further after saying that, still in the process of wrapping his mind around this.

"It is where I wish to be!" She said, nearly choking on the tears that threatened to spill over. "I can't go back to that place. I won't!" What was waiting for her? Two years of solitude, her family and servants watching for signs of a pregnancy before eventually marrying her to some grubby Lannister? An arrow in the back would be kinder.

Whatever or whomever the Atroma were, they had granted her the chance to be with Robb again. Whether she was dead or not, she didn't care. She was at least reunited with the man she loved.

"I'm not dead, Robb." She had felt it until this moment. Feeling his touch again, it was as though he had brought her back to life. "I'm here with you and I won't be parted from you again."

She shifted, moving to sit on the edge of his bed, urging him to rest in her arms as he had when he learned of Theon's betrayal. Her fingers caressed his hair, trying to soothe him as she had in the past. "The others...they told me that you knew what happened."

A shivering sigh escapes his mouth and he flinches just a little at her words. With every second he can feel guilt seeping in, clouding his judgement. He should embrace her and love her like he used to do. But he wasn't that person anymore. And she was going to suffer because of him. Like they all did.

"Jeyne..." he speaks her name softly, his hand still in hers. Their hands fit well together. "You should not put that much hope in me. We only have...this..."

Robb was about to frown again when Jeyne moves and wraps her arms around him, pressing him close to her. It reminds them of their first night together. One filled with tears, frustration and an unexpected boner.

"They tell everyone of it." He laughs again. "Jeyne..." Finally he stirs again, wiggling a little out of her arms. "...You know that one day you will return and I will not... This is not a forever." Now he knows of his death it feels like the sweetest dream, the kindest opportunity. "This is a game... And we..." Robb hates to cry but he cannot stop the tears anymore. "I am dead... and you will live and marry another... If the gods are kind they will give you a good man."

He wipes his eyes.

"Once a man told me that life is a river. And time can cause little streams. Alternate times and universes. And this might be a stream, but if it does not rain the stream will never become a river."

It wasn't him that brought her suffering but her own existence and her family. She knew deep down that she should have accepted the loss of her virginity and pushed him to honor his vow. She had no prospects to begin with. It was only through the gods that she had been given a good, loving man like Robb.

"It's not just in you, Robb." She replied. "If there is a way, I intend to find it." The conversation with Sansa had been enough to fill her with hope. Her good-sister had thus far managed a lengthy stay, it was possible. She had to play this game and keep the Atroma happy, for both hers and Robb's sake.

She remains close to him as he speaks, biting her lip to keep her sorrow at a distance. This wasn't about her anymore, it was about Robb. "Nothing is forever, Robb. I know this is a game and we are expected to entertain some audience." They must be soaking in this moment with all the sadistic pleasure that they possessed. "I will not marry another." The words are spoken sharply. "I am your wife and death does not end my vow."

As he begins to cry, she brushes her hand against his cheek, wiping away a few of his tears. "It may not be in our control, nothing may be, but it doesn't mean that I intend to give up." Her eyes found his, determined and serious. "You are strong, Robb. You may not feel it or see it now, but I know you are."

She placed his hand over his heart, "Whatever happened in our world, you are alive here. It isn't the end of you, whether if it is a stream or a river, the water keeps moving forward."

Edited 2016-10-31 20:51 (UTC)

That is what he liked about Jeyne. Even though he knew that she always tried to be a good wife to him first, she had a surprising amount of strength inside of her. At times she knew how to take him aback. But there also have been times where he did not allow her to get too close. And over time that strength seem to have grown.

"That is not for you to decide..." he whispers softly and he can't help feeling warmed up by her words. "You know that..." But the frown on his face is disappearing slowly. "Your family..." What would become of the Westerlings? Knowing lord Gawen and his lady wife, they probably would do quite a lot to get on lord Tywin's good side again. "Don't fill your head with idle hope..."

Hope is so fragile. If anything, he wants her to be happy again.

"I have to be." He admits it softly and smiles a bitter sort of smile. "And I will be..." For his siblings who wanted to stay here no matter what. "...I promised Sansa and Bran... I will be strong for them." Robb silences again and frowns. "...I can be, for you...if you will it so. Our stream will dry out..."

Because he did not want to hope anymore. Hope did nothing.

He brought this side out in her. Before Robb, she had blindly obeyed her mother in all things, remaining meek and gentle. The night that she tended to Robb and came to his bed, it was the first moment that had been purely her decision and her desire. Through him and through his mother, she found a part of herself that she never suspected existed. She may have been a seashell maiden once, but she had found a wolf maiden hiding within. She wasn't a Westerling, she was a Stark.

"I do, but I know that it isn't enough to stop me from trying." She held tighter to him, wishing to impart her strength into him. She winced at the mention of her family, rage threatening to spill over. "I am with my family now." She told him, brushing her thumb over his cheek. "My husband, his brothers and sister. You are my family."

She laughed, the familiar smile that she had always saved for Robb appeared. "I would rather have hope than live with the absence of it again." With him here, it was easy to find it once again.

"Not just for them, Robb." Her voice was firm. "For yourself as well. If need be, I will be strong for the both of us and carry whatever you will let me." Her hands ran through his hair once more, pressing her brow to his. "Don't think of the end. Live, Robb. Be here with me."

Edited 2016-10-31 21:38 (UTC)

The look in his eyes is a dull one and at times he moves to stare at her fingers around his. A part of him still cannot believe that she is truly here. That she speaks to him and smiles at him the way she used to. She hoped for a future and he hoped... Robb is not sure what he hopes for.

“Do not forget your own siblings,” he says suddenly, the tone of his voice sharp. He thinks of Raynald and how they had become good friends. Her younger sister who has been nothing but kind. “And even though they like me not, do not forget your parents either.” And he does not dare to say it but Winterfell would be nothing but a burned shell and house Stark is barely alive. Why would she want to cling to the dead?

When she presses her forehead against his he sighs deeply. He hears her words and the firmness in her voice. It is hard to not think of the end especially when you do not want your life to end. You want to make up for the mistakes you have made.
“I will manage...” he finally whispers in return, leaning against her a little as he tries to conjure somewhat of a smile. “Just give it time...give me time...” Normally he wouldn’t have spoken at all.

The mention of her siblings struck her painfully. She had always been close to her brothers and sister, but the events of the Red Wedding fractured their family. Rollam was too young to understand what had happened to Raynald and Robb, but Eleyna was and she had been oddly silent about the matter.

As for her parents, she had no wish to consider either of them. "Robb," she said softly, deciding what she would tell him now and what she would save for a better time. He deserved to know about Raynald and the sacrifice he made in trying to save his good-brother's life. Grey Wind had been freed because of him, despite the heavy cost.

Yet it wasn't the time for any of this. He was already brought so low and suffering from guilt. She couldn't add to it. "I don't forget them." She said gently. "But I want to be your wife and to remain here with you. My home is wherever you are." She had been lost for so long, adrift without Robb. If this world returned her to him, then it was worth the misery, the audience and the games they had to play. She could abide a great deal, so long as she was with him.

"I know you will." She whispered to him, closing her eyes as her hand stroked his hair. "Do you wish me to stay? Or would you rather be on your own?"

Edited 2016-11-02 20:47 (UTC)

A heavy sigh escapes Robb’s mouth as guilt starts to settle in again. Raynald had gone with him. The gods only know what the Freys must have done to him. To everyone. When she says his name he snaps out of it a little, his blue eyes focusing on her face again. He musters a bit of a smile but does not move any further. It does not help when he tells himself to be strong because he simply does not feel that way. He feels to weak to even pretend that he is strong.

One thing that he has learned here is that he has to be open up to others. That it would not do to keep everything bottled up inside. Here he has no army he has to prove himself to. And it helps that she is talking to him, her voice sure. As if she has never lost faith in him after all that has happened.

“If you wish me to be, Jeyne.” Because somehow it hard to imagine that she still wants to be with him. He has ruined them all, everyone. Her family, his own family, his mother’s family and all those good lords and their houses. How could he properly enjoy himself here while knowing that?

He does not answer her question and closes his eyes for a moment, enjoying the way she is stroking his hair. It soothes his mind a little and it shows in the way how his breathing finally evens out and his shoulders slump a little. No, he does not want her to go but he cannot muster the words anymore.

She can see the struggle written plainly on his face. They may have only been wed a short amount of time, but she had tried to learn all she could about him. Her husband was a man that kept his emotions guarded closely against his heart. He rarely smiled and his thoughts were concealed behind a rigid mask. She had done her best to scale his walls and learn to read his face as plainly as though he were speaking the words.

He didn't need to be a king here and he didn't need to ignore himself for the sake of others. What he remembered would be enough to strike down any man with fear and self loathing, but Robb had it in him to rise again and face the challenge with courage. All he needed to do was believe that he was capable of it.

"I do wish you to be, Robb." She told him gently, feeling him relax against her. It was the only confirmation that she needed that he wanted her to stay. "I love you. I am yours and you are mine."

She continued to stroke his hair, humming softly as she had when she tended to him at the Crag. So long as he wanted her, she would remain with him.

Even when she speaks he remains silent. His head feels heavy and full. As if his brains cannot absorb any information anymore. It is odd that he has wished for this and now that it is truly happening he does not feel happy at all.

He feels melancholic. Sad. Overwhelmed. The memories of his own death still cling to him like a pair of gruesome wet breeches. How can you love a corpse? A memory?

Finally he pulls back and rubs his eyes, frowning deeply and looking more like a really old man than a sixteen year old who just visited his homeland to die.

"You can stay..." he says while pressing his back against the wall behind him. "I would not dare to send you away. You must have waited a long time." 'For a corpse to live again'.

Be patient, she reminds herself, even as hurt registered across her face. Be understanding. After all that he went through, she shouldn't expect him to open to her in the ways that he had once before. He suffered more than the loss of his brothers and home this time.

Still, it didn't lessen the sting. She folded her hands in her lap, fidgeting with her fingers as she often did when she was uncomfortable or unhappy. She was a child, as he was, while she had not suffered death (or the horrors that he had undergone), she had suffered betrayal and the feeling that she had lost her family.

He couldn't help the state of his mind, she knew this. Yet it didn't change how much she needed to feel wanted and loved. Or even the simple act of being allowed to help him through this difficult time. It seemed that she would have to scale his walls once again.

Be patient, she told herself again. He's suffered a fright.

"If that's what you wish," she said softly. "It was near a week? Not as long as others waited, I imagine." Despite the advice in her head and the memory of Catelyn urging her the same, Jeyne spoke quickly, "Don't shut me out, Robb. Don't push me away. Please."

Edited 2016-11-06 18:36 (UTC)

Robb moves his hands through his hair and for a brief moment he wonders when that happiness would come and take over. Isn't it good to see Jeyne again? To have her next to him every night? To feel her hands around him? To love?

He looks at her and all he feels is guilt. And next to that he feels more guilt. Absolute crippling guilt. Once again he can feel his shoulders tense up and they tense up further when he sees that he has hurt her. It was that thing she did with her fingers.

And he wants to tell her that she should not feel hurt and he wants to smile at her mentioning that others might've waited longer, but nothing comes out of his mouth. He wants to kiss her again and reach out to her but his body won't move.

Nothing happens. And he feels like the biggest craven ever.

Courage, she tells herself, pushing forward away from the precipice of grief and loneliness. She had her fill of it, yet Robb was still stuck in the mire of his own. Setting aside her hurt and worry, Jeyne took a steadying breath and moved to sit next to him on the bed. She couldn't be sure if it was wanted or not, but she would give him her presence in the off chance that he might find it comforting.

Taking his hands in hers, she lifts his fingers so that she might brush a kiss against them. Her eyes held his, imploring and sad, hoping some how through touch to reach him once again. There had been a moment before, a solitary moment where it seemed that he was finding his strength once more. He had it in him and she wasn't about to let him slip away behind his walls.

She pressed his palm against her cheek, feeling her courage bolster from his touch (even if it was by her own prompting). She didn't say anything, hoping to somehow revive him through the same tenderness and gentle love that she had offered throughout their marriage.

Robb sees her stand and move towards him. Her hair seems to be longer than he remembers but it is still as curly. And her face is still lovely and kind. Her hands are warm when she takes her and so are her lips. It is all so familiar that it hurts. Gods, why does it hurt? It should not hurt and he should smile.

She looks so sad. And that is his fault too.

When he feels his fingers slide of her cheek he sighs deeply. His fingers bend a little, pressing against her skin in a more firm way. And before he knows it his fingers are threading through her hair, combing it aside to expose more of her face. She must have been grieving and missing him. And in some sort of twisted way this bloody place was their last forever.

She had thought she remembered every inch of him, the planes of his body and the beauty of his face. Yet her memories could not recreate or compare to seeing him in the flesh. The feel of his calloused hands were more gentle than a feather bed. She'd been waiting for his touch, starving for him.

It hurts to see him so unhappy and afraid. She had seen him at his lower moments, struck by betrayal and loss, but it didn't compare to this. However she might tug him back from that darkness, she would try.

She leaned into his touch, pressing a kiss to his wrist. Shifting closer to him, she reached out and caressed his cheek once more, feeling the same stubble that had scratched her skin when they first made love. She smiled shyly at him, hoping to see that spark once more in his eyes.

"I love you," she told him again.

Robb feels as if he is drifting right there between worlds. A part of his brain is still processing the look on lord Bolton's face before said lord's steel pierced his chest and the other part is right here and now, drinking in the sight of his lovely wife. He wishes he could snap out of it and will himself to feel happiness again.

He remembers her touches well. They were curious at first and grew more and more bold with every day. Just like his. The more they learned about their bodies, the more they wanted each other in such a way.

"I know you do..." Robb whispers, eyes closing the moment her fingers slide over his cheek. "I remember that. I remember you... Jeyne..." Still, the look in his eyes remains the same, even when he tries to gather himself. To focus on thoughts that matter. On her fingers on his cheeks, on the warmth of her lips.

"I remember I love you. That did not change."

"It didn't?" She felt silly asking for reassurance in that. From what others had told her, he had spoken of her often in this place. The words leading them to believe that he would be happy to see her. She hadn't let herself hope that it was true, still burdened with guilt and fear at how he might view her now, given all that had happened. Hearing him say that he loves her returned the color to her cheeks and a sunniness to her smile.

"Do you remember other things?" She felt shy, in the same way she was shortly after their marriage. Despite having bedded him before, he was still a mystery to her at that time. Pleasing him had been her greatest wish, but she knew so little about what he liked and enjoyed. It was almost as though she were cast back to that time. "Do you remember our talks at night after..." after their passions were spent. Her face burned against his touch. "Or when I would mend your shirt and we'd sit together?"

She wanted to surround him with better memories, to chase away the unpleasant. There was warmth in their past, nestled alongside the painful. He was fighting a battle in his mind and she hoped these gentle reminders would draw him back towards the pleasant.

Pushing aside any remaining worries she had, Jeyne leaned closer to him and brushed a kiss against his lips.

"No..." Robb shakes his head slowly and sighs again. "I had always hoped...that I would see you again... After I heard of what I...went through." The frown on his face becomes deep now. "...My death. The betrayal. I thought of you a lot, no, I always thought of you."

Robb always thought of her. Like a boy in love would do. And after saying that he gazes down again, his eyes focused on the blanket underneath them. But as a king he thought of her differently. Why didn't she get pregnant? Was she barren? His kingdom needed a heir.

"Yes. I tend to make many holes in my shirts... Especially after sparring with Raynald. He is...was...surprisingly fast with his sword. He caught me unawares many times..." Finally he looks up again and the moment he does that she kisses him.

"I feel...as if I do not deserve that. This."

She couldn't talk about his death. So much of what happened had been wrapped up in the actions of her family and her eventual future with the Lannisters. It wasn't a topic that she wanted to focus on, even when she was on her own. Being with Robb made it harder for her to stomach. "I thought of you as well." It was the safest thing to say and the most heartfelt. "Always."

She didn't know the reason for why she never became pregnant, but part of her wondered whether or not her mother had been truthful about the mixtures. She had deceived her daughter on so much else, it wasn't unreasonable to think that the betrayal ran deeper.

The mention of her brother brought tears to her eyes. He had been Robb's most faithful supporter and given his life for his good-brother. That at least removed some of the stigma and shame that her mother had brought on their family.

"Don't deserve this? What do you mean?" She asked, running her thumb against his cheek softly. "Of course you deserve it."

Edited 2016-11-06 21:59 (UTC)

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