CHAPTER 29 | LUCKY

"WALDER Frey is a dangerous man to cross," Catelyn had told him. "Half of his soldiers withdrew from your army when you broke your promise by marrying Lady Freya for revenge against Balon Greyjoy. Treat your oaths recklessly and your people will do the same."

Robb was not keen on hearing his mother's response when he told her that he would keep his marriage to Freya after the war was over. Catelyn had sensed this happening, and she was not happy. Not just because she never had a great liking towards Freya, but because her son had broke his marriage-alliance. He could tell Walder Frey that he would agree to take a second wife all he wanted, but she knew Robb did not want that, and Lord Frey would never let it happen either. He wanted his daughter to marry a King, not to be a second wife to one.

Robb now talked of the end of the war like he could see the future. He talked of them killing Joffrey with both their hands. He talked of them having a formal reception, where they may even invite her no-good father. "It was him, after all, that I wanted to get revenge on," Robb had said. "Little did I know that this would happen." He even talked of their children filling the halls of Winterfell, leaving Freya incredibly nervous every time he would try to touch her.

She didn't know when she'd tell Robb that she was barren, but from the way he was speaking, she knew it had to be soon. Her anxiety of the situation left her awake most nights.

Just a week later, the Stark army marched on to Harrenhal in the Riverlands. Robb and Freya, along with Roose Bolton at their side, led the host towards the large castle, which apparently, was now granted to Lord Petyr Baelish. Robb, Freya, and Lord Bolton took a moment to look at the castle, and Freya found herself marveling at it's beauty.

"We should set the siege lines a thousand yards from Harrenhal." Lord Bolton advised.

Robb shook his head. "There won't be a siege. The Mountain can't defend a ruin."

Roose shrugged. "I imagine the Mountain will defend whatever Tywin Lannister tells him to defend."

"The Lannisters have been running from us since Oxcross," Robb reminded, feeling defeated.

"I'd love a fight. Our banner men would love a fight," Freya muttered, already marching her horse forward, "but I don't think we're going to get one, boys."

And they were right. Robb and Freya walked into the castle easily, leaving their horses behind with a few banner men. They strode inside, arms lace together, like a husband and wife should. Freya's foot landed in a puddle of blood, and she quickly pulled it out. A man was hung up beside her, but when she and her husband looked around, all they saw were corpses. Arrows were plunged in their chests; some were still bleeding out. The Stark army wasn't expecting a fight, but they surely didn't expect to walk in on a massacre.

"They killed them all," Freya whispered, her grip growing tighter on Robb's arm.

Roose Bolton and Lord Karstark followed them through the entrance, and slowly looked around at the murder that had taken place. Lord Karstark shook his head and muttered, "Two hundred Northmen slaughtered like sheep."

"The debt will be repaid, my friend." Lord Bolton sighed. "For them, and for your sons."

"Will it?" Karstark asked, venom laced in his tone. "They rot in the ground, while their killer runs free."

Roose replied, "The Kingslayer won't remain free for long. My best hunters are after him."

Robb watched his mother walk up to one of the corpses. Freya spotted the man's house flag, which was plunged into his gut with an sword. "House Mallister," she clarified in a soft voice.

"Ser Jeremy," Catelyn whispered, as if it weren't true. "My father's banner man."

Lord Karstark and Bolton found the strength to walk away, while Robb stared up to his own banner men for a moment. "Find her a chamber that will serve as a cell," he ordered, and his men slowly ushered Catelyn Stark away.

Freya's other hands smudged the dirt off his armor. "Are you going to keep her as a prisoner forever?"

"I don't know," Robb answered honestly. "She freed Jaime Lannister, which defied both of our orders. The Lannisters robbed them of their sons and she robbed them of their justice."

Suddenly, a man within the body of corpses began to cough violently. "Water," he begged in a quiet voice, while he choked. His eyes opened as Robb and Freya rushed over. Robb brought his pack of water to the man's mouth and filled it, while Freya ripped a part of her shirt off to cover the man's open wound. "You're going to be alright, Ser." Freya soothed, pressing the cloth harder into the wound.

"What's your name, friend?" Robb asked, taking in the man's style of dress. He wore a thick, long robe of black wool, with a chain attached to the front. Splotches of blood stained the front of the material.

The man stared at Robb and Freya strangely. "Qyburn," he answered in a gravel voice.

"You're lucky to be alive," Freya snorted.

Qyburn's eyes moved towards the sky. "Lucky?" He said, and crows cawed in the distance.

•••

The army settled themselves into the castle of Harrenhal. Robb and Freya laid out their supplies in the throne room, and Robb took the time to gather a fire. He stood in front of it, watching the flames crackle and sizzle out. Sparks floated in the air and mixed with the dust. They didn't plan on staying long, seeing as half of the castle was torn apart.

Freya set her long, fur cloak on a nearby chair and walked over to him. She stood to his left, asking, "Thinking impure thoughts?"

Robb grinned. "What gave me away?"

"I was joking," she quipped, giggling in the process.

Robb didn't reply, but as his lips met her own, a small chuckle escaped them. He kissed her slowly, passionately, and Freya felt a bubble of happiness swell inside her stomach. In a time such as this, she was sure she'd never feel that, and with Robb Stark, for that matter. Her hands grasped onto the scruff on his chin, while his own lowered from her waist to the nether regions of her skirt. The area was obviously covered by clothing, but Freya could still feel Robb begin to rub his finger in small circles.

She bit down on his lip when she felt his digits there, and though she was enjoying it, she pulled away immediately. Robb held a hand to his bottom lip, which was bleeding. Freya backed away and crossed her arms around herself. "What was that about?" He asked in an agitated tone.

"I ..." Freya turned her back to him, and as the bubble of happiness began to fade from her stomach, she knew a child would never surface in it's place. "I'm not in the mood."

Robb looked back at the fire. "You're never in the mood, Freya." He hit the stone mantle. "Gods sake, we are married. You won't even touch me!"

Freya ran her hand up her arm. "I don't wish to talk about this anymore."

"Am I suddenly repulsive to you?" He continued on. "Are you ... into women too?"

She rubbed at her forehead before finally viewing at him. He was staring at her with confused eyes. Freya bit her lip, deciding on whether she should tell him or not. "I'm not comfortable with it right now. This is all very new to me," she whispered, glancing to the fire. "And I truly see no point in touching you that way, when I ... I ..."

The door suddenly opened, and in walked Roose Bolton, holding two small letters. "Pardon me, Your Grace." He bowed his head. "My Queen."

"It's alright, Lord Bolton." Freya replied. "We were finished with our conversation anyways."

Robb looked at her with fire in his eyes before turning to Lord Bolton. He nodded his head towards his comrade. "Lord Bolton," he addressed. "Let me guess which one is the good news."

Roose held up the two letters. "Word from Riverrun," he paused, "and Winterfell."

Freya walked forward, plucking one of the letters from his grip. She grabbed the one from Winterfell, which was the one to her liking, and Robb took the letter from Riverrun. She read over the words, and got the simple answer that her brother had run away from the fight at Winterfell. She rubbed at her eyes at reading the line that Bran and Rickon have not been found. Freya sniffled.

"Hoster Tully has died," Robb said, after reading his own letter. "Lord Bolton, may I be so bold to ask you to garrison here until I return from my grandfather's funeral?" He looked to his wife. "Freya, would you please join me in going to Riverrun?"

Freya nodded slowly as she hid her face. War wasn't anything that her trainer prepared her for, and she was discovering this before her very eyes. Her family was torn apart. She was in a marriage with the supposed enemy. She was barren. What else could get worse?

"What's wrong?" Robb asked softly, pulling her body close to his. "What did the letter from Winterfell say?"

She wiped at the edges of her eyes. "My brother fled the castle," she admitted. "By the time Lord Bolton's bastard got to Winterfell, his army was gone. He fucking murdered everyone and lit the castle in flames." Freya didn't want to look at her husband when she continued, "Your brothers are nowhere to be found. They think they may have escaped, or my brother took them back to the Iron Islands as hostages."

Robb didn't answer. Roose looked downward.

"I don't know what has fucked him up so much," she cried. "He was never like this until he visited our father. He knew what we were to your family, but your father had always treated us right. Maybe being away from my father – a man I thought had loved me – was better."

Robb hugged her tighter, allowing her tears to stain his cloak. "I'm sorry," she sobbed loudly. "My father has ... he has ruined everything and everyone." Her fingers gripped his armor as she cried, but ever so slowly, she looked up to stare at the two men before her, tears haunting her lids.

And this was when Freya muttered, "We all must prepare."