Full Prompt: Robb doesn't marry Jeyne Westerling. As he makes his way back to the Twins all the eligible Frey girls are anxiously anticipating who he will choose and swapping stories about him. Roslin hears that he is cruel and merciless and his direwolf tears out the throat of any that displease him. She becomes frightened and begins to pray that he does not choose her. Of course upon reaching the Twins Robb picks Roslin since she is pretty and seems like a good wife. Roslin is terrified and cries on their wedding comforts her and promises not to hurt her. They both decide to work towards mutual love and respect for one another.

Roslin sat in the ravenry with The Histories and Lineages of The Storm Kings in one hand and her eyes out the window. Flakes of grey-white snow fell in the fields and river, sparsely but continuously. The high, frozen wind scratched against the window pane, turning the glass as cold as ice. Roslin wore a dress of lambswool lined with fur. Her fingers were gloved. Autumn was quickly giving way to winter.

The screech of a raven snapped her out of her thoughts. Maester Beny, a fat, somber man in his middle years, bid her over, "A letter from the Starks. Make sure your lord father sees this." As Roslin accepted the letter, fresh parchment sealed in grey wax, he added softly, "And you don't have hide here anymore."

"I quite like it here, Maester Beny." She replied with a small smile, "I will see that my lord father reads this." Maester Beny gave her a pat on the shoulder and let her go.

The ravenry was perched at the top of the North Tower, but her lord father's chambers were in the South Tower. By the time she reached him, Roslin was nearly out of breath, but did her best to hide it. Her father, Lord Walder, seemed more like her grandfather or great-grandfather. At ninety-six years of age, he was a father again, as his eighth wife Joyeuse, a girl scarcely older than Roslin herself, had just given birth to his twenty-third trueborn son, Thadus. When she got there, neither Joyeuse nor Thadus were present. Instead, her father was in deep conversation with with several of his male offspring.

"What is it Walda?" he croaked irritably, "This had better be important."

"I'm Roslin. I have a letter for you from Lord Robb Stark."

Every eye turned to piece of parchment in her hand. "Well girl," her father's voice became quieter, "Open the seal and read it."

She did as instructed: King Stannis has triumphed over the Lannisters, taken the Iron Throne, and wedded Margaery Tyrell, as his wife passed away of a sudden illness; Tywin Lannister and his line were all killed, leaving Casterly Rock to his brother Kevan; Lady Sansa had wedded Lord Willas Tyrell, but Lady Arya was missing; the Stark host marched for the Twins and would be at their door by a moon's turn. When she finished, she felt very lightheaded.

"So, the Young Wolf rides north at last, but he's only filling half the bargain." Her lord father wheezed. "I wonder if he's hiding his younger sister for a more profitable betrothal."

"He seems intent on keeping is word." Edwyn said begrudgingly, "Mayhaps the girl truly is lost."

"The Lannister have had King's Landing under lock and key since the day they arrested Eddard Stark. How could she have gotten lost? They had the other girl didn't they? You," he pointed to Roslin with a bony finger, "Your purpose it done. Leave the letter and return to your chambers." She obeyed.

Downstairs, as she made her way to the bedchambers she shared with her younger half-sisters, Arwyn and Shirei, some her nieces stopped her. Gatehouse Ami, Fat Walda, and Marissa were the daughters of her father's ninth son, Merrett. Their younger brother, Little Walder, was one of Catelyn Stark's wards at Winterfell.

"Look girls," Fat Walda laughed, "Dear Rosy has finally left her tower."

"Hello Walda," she said neutrally, "Amerei, Marissa."

Fat Walda shook her playfully, "You're so formally." She laughed louder when Roslin smiled at bit.

Marissa asked, "Did you see Lord Grandfather? I thought I saw you going up the steps."

"I did. I had to deliver a message to him." She explained, "From the Robb Stark."

"The Young Wolf wrote to us? He's coming here!" Ami squealed happily.

Roslin nodded, "By the next turn of the moon."

"Sisters," Fat Walda took Ami and and Marissa's hands, "We have to go. It's been great speaking with you Rosy." They turned down the hall quite abruptly.

Over the next few weeks, Roslin saw a change come over the maidens of the Twins. Suddenly they were sewing new dresses, buying new perfumes, and importing expensive oils and creams. Many lords had visited the Twins before, but no had ever made such a fuss over it before. Of course, this was a competition. Robb Stark had to marry one of them and everyone was out to win.

One evening, Roslin helped embroider the double-tower maiden cloak. She sat with Fair Walda, Zia, Arwyn, and the twins Serra and Sarra; Alyx and Merrett's three girls had started with them, but they left early on.

"It's lovely," she said as she stitched in windows on one of the towers. "We've done well."

"Aye," Fair Walda replied, "And it will look even lovelier on me."

Roslin's shoulders dropped. She knew where this was headed.

Zia smirked, "It's a maiden cloak, so obviously you won't wear it. Black Walder has seen to that."

"The Young Wolf doesn't need to know that." Fair Walda turned dark, "Besides, the maidens here aren't worth his time."

Arwyn laughed. "Then maybe he ought to wed Gatehouse Ami. You know that brother of hers must be whispering in Lady Catelyn's ear."

"The Others take you both!" Fair Walda sneered, "Or better yet, may Robb Stark kill you himself." She threw down her needles.

Roslin looked at her sternly, "Don't say such things, Walda. It's unkind. Would you wish to wed a man who murders your kin?"

"From what I've heard, he's more beast than man," Fair Walda shrugged, "But he's still a lord, and a better catch than any of us could have hoped for."

"What have you heard?" Roslin inquired.

The twins giggled. "Haven't you heard anything?" One of them asked.

Roslin blushed.

"You spent too much time in the tower with Maester Beny and your books." The other twin said, "They say he's a skinchanger and can turn into a wolf when he pleases."

"I haven't heard that." Zia said, "I have heard he has a direwolf, a beast as large as a horse. If someone displeases him, he has it cut out their throat."

"He-he does?" Roslin stammered. She felt her stomach drop.

Fair Walda and Zia dropped their smirks. Arwyn added, "Some of our own kin have seen the wolf. They say it really is that huge."

"They wouldn't say such stories if there not some grain of truth to them. Ser Emmon married a Lannister, and he speaks of how badly the Westermen fear the Young Wolf." Fair Walda added.

"Even so," Roslin interjected, "He would only be cruel to his enemies. We're his allies, and women besides."

Zia shrugged, "Such things mean little and less to certain men."

"He's of the North," Fair Walda stated, "An hostile land of hostile people. It is so cold up there that it snows even in the summer. That's what makes the Northmen so harsh. They don't even follow the Seven; they pray to queer trees instead instead of kind and just gods."

"Aye, their gods are cruel." Zia agreed "I've been told that the northerners sacrifice each other to those trees; cut their throats and let them bleed into the earth."

Roslin dropped her needles.

"What is it Roslin?" Arwyn asked, "You don't really believe that do you? They're just stories."

"I-I don't know. I don't know anything about the North."

Fair Walda looked interested, "Well learn quickly or pray he doesn't choose you. Because whoever Robb Stark weds will be send up North to freeze."

They continued continued exchanging stories, horrible, bloody stories of butchery and savagery, until Roslin could no longer bear to listen. She said goodnight and ran to her chambers.

As she buried herself under her blankets, she thought, None of that can be true. None of it. Her dreams were uneasy that night.

The men of the Twins arrived two days ahead of the Stark men. A few had no men to greet. Roslin ran to southern courtyard the minute she saw her houses war banners returning. Women and girls kissed their men for the first time in years. She pushed through the crowd until she saw her favorite brothers.

"Little sister!" Olyvar picked her up when he saw her. He had grown into a man since she saw him last. He was hardened from war and sported a short beard.

"Oh Olyvar, I've missed you." Roslin kissed his cheek.

"Ser Olyvar now." He smiled proudly. "Lord Robb is coming to chose a bride among you."

"Aye, we all know of that."

Olyvar grinned, "The Young Wolf is a good friend of mine. I could alter his choice on your behalf."

Roslin laughed nervously, "No, that won't be necessary."

"Right," Olyvar said, "You're beautiful enough to catch his eye all on your own."

A howl rippled through the courtyard. It was monstrous and it sounded hungry.

"What was that?" Roslin gasped shivering.

"Probably just Grey Wind." Olyvar answered, "I thought he would stay close to Lord Robb, but it seems he wanted to on ahead by himself."

Roslin watched carefully for any sign of a wolf but found none. Still, she could feel a pair of savage eyes on her. What if Zia and Fair Walda were right? If Robb Stark was a skinchanger, was he watching her at that moment?

"Wolfs can howl long distances," Olyvar explained, "You can hear them, but you can't see them. Grey Wind has fought with Lord Robb in every battle. You can't imagine how many Lannister men those two have taken down."

She wasn't ready to find out. "You need some rest," Roslin said too quickly. "We can talk in the morning."

She sat at supper hearing all about Robb Stark: how fierce and bold he was in battle; how ruthless he was to those who opposed him; how he had trained his direwolf to destroy his enemies. Each word was like a slap. Halfway through the meal, she felt ready to scream. Roslin excused herself as gracefully as she could, and once she was out of sight she ran as quickly as she could to the sept.

The sept was quaint and small, but very pretty. Six of the seven altars presented a small icon; for the Father, Mother, Warrior, Maiden, Smith, and Crone.

With trembling fingers, Roslin lit a candle to the Mother. "Gentle Mother, I pray..." She sighed. "I pray that Robb Stark doesn't chose me for his bride. Please do not allow me to be wedded to such as cold, ruthless man. I'll marry anyone else, a greybeard even, just keep me from that cruel man."

She lit another candle and prayed until she could no longer keep her eyes open.

"Roslin?" Olyvar came in afterwards. "Come here little sister." He picked her up and carried her back to her chambers.

"Olly?" She muttered dully.

"You've gotten religious." He said with a faint smile.

She didn't say anything. Instead, she snuggled into his chest.

The next morning, Roslin was in the sept again when Arwyn came with the news.

"The Starks have finally made it here." She told Roslin.

"Thank you for telling me." Roslin sat down in front of the Mother and continued to pray. Gentle Mother, do not let such a savage man have me.

"Here," Arwyn handed her a slice of bread and cheese, "You need to eat."

"Thank you, Arwyn."

The Stark party was formally presented to Lord Walder later that night. Robb Stark brought his mother and his sister Arya. They had found her wandering the Riverlands two days before they arrived. With her short hair and skinny frame, Lady Arya hardly looked like a girl, let alone a lady. Lady Catelyn was regal and comely beside her shabby daughter. She had the same bright blue eyes and auburn curls as her son. Robb Stark was a handsome man, but Roslin could feel a sheet of ice between him and the rest of the world.

Her lord father sat on his throne with Joyeuse and Thadus by his side. She could hardly hear him, as lost as she was in her anxiety, but she heard when he ordered the maidens to stand in front so that their guests could see them.

Roslin stood in line with the other maidens of the Twins. There was no time for Robb Stark to court every willing maiden, so he had to see them all together and make his choice. Fair Walda has chosen her best gown and styled her hair in a crown brain recalling the late Queen Cersei; Zia had made sure to have her high harp in the Great Hall, in case Robb Stark asked if any of them were musically gifted; the Crakehall girls - Alyx, Ami, Fat Walda, Marissa, the twins - were slathered in foreign perfumes. Some parents had sneaked their younger daughters in, the ones just on the cusp of maidenhood, in hopes that Robb Stark prefered a younger girl. Roslin had put on a clean dress and brushed her hair.

After what felt like several hours, Robb Stark thanked her father for showing him such beautiful maidens and swore to make his choice on the marrow. Once she was free, Roslin retreated to the back of hall and hid behind her brothers and nephews until she could politely excuse herself. She returned to the sept, where Septon Grett stopped her.

"You've become so religious recently, Lady Roslin," Septon Grett remarked dryly, "I'm sure Lord Robb will appreciate such devotion if he followed the right gods."

She didn't how to answer, so she merely said, "Thank Septon Grett." and went to her usual place before the Mother. "Gentle Mother, I pray you spare me from being the Young Wolf's bride."

The next morning she learned that the Mother was deaf.

Her wedding day dawned gray and snowy. Roslin had read that a cold wedding meant a cold marriage, but she wasn't how much truth there was to that. She hoped it wasn't true. She donned a gown of blue velvet lined with gray silk and the maiden cloak that she had helped make. The looks her maiden kin gave her chilled her more than the weather did. I didn't chose this, she wanted to say, If I could make it so any of you could go in my place, I would.

Her lord father walked her into the sept, old and ill as he was. She could have loved for that if he were not walking her to the last place she wanted to go. She faced Robb Stark before Septon Grett, before her family and what was left of his. The ceremony was short but it felt much longer. Roslin idly wondered if he also had the power to slow down time. She said her vows like her septa had trained her and Robb Stark said his own. When Robb Stark removed her maiden cloak, she suddenly felt naked. The direwolf bride cloak was heavy and stiff; it felt more like chains than a shield.

Robb Stark leaned in and kissed her. He held her for moment and pulled back. To her surprise, his lips were warm. His eyes were troubled and Roslin saw beads of water hanging from his lips.

Had she been crying this whole time?

The tears continued falling from her eyes throughout the feast. Roslin had no idea what to say to her new husband, so she remained silent throughout the feast. Rather than eat, she used this time to observe Robb. He seemed gentle and well-mannered, but she wondered how much of it might be a farce. Lady Catelyn looked at her sympathetically, but Roslin hardly found that encouraging. She smiled only once, when Elmer awkwardly danced with his betrothed.

"Every sword needs a sleath." She heard her father announce.

Roslin looked up in shock, barely aware of what was happening. A thousand hands grabbed her, pulling of her garments, pulling down her hair. She clutched the direwolf cloak, but it was forced from her fingers. When she was fully naked, a man carried her upstairs and threw her into a room. She stumbled, falling into her husband's large, strong arms.

"Roslin, let me help you." He said gently as he lifted her to her feet.

She blushed bright at being so close to a man; a naked man, while she was also naked. She kept her eyes to his chest. "Thank you, my lord."

"You may call me Robb, if you wish." He replied.

"Thank you Robb."

He looked at her carefully, with a hint of worry in his eyes. "My mother told me that a wedding and bedding can be scary for a maiden." He brushed a tear from her warm cheek, "You don't have to be afraid of me. I wouldn't hurt you."

"I-I thought..." The words caught in her throat. She could hardly repeat Fair Walda and Zia's words to his face.

Robb picked up a robe and wrapped it around her thin shoulders. "If you are so nervous, we do not have to do our duty tonight, not until you are ready."

Roslin's heart sputtered when she saw the warmth in his eyes. What had been she so afraid of? He had been nothing but courteous and kind the entire stay. She was so relieved, she almost cried again. She felt like such a fool for believing all those stories. A strange sound came from her throat, half a laugh and half a sob.

She watched as went to get a robe for himself. This was her wedding night, for gods' sake. "Wait." she said. He froze and turned to her, "We're married now, and must do our duty." She dropped the robe he had given her, trying not to how shy she felt about exposing her body so freely. "I'm ready, I really am. I want to be a good wife to you."

When he donned the robe anyway, she felt a queer sense of loss. "Roslin, do you truly want to lie with me, or do you think you have to?"

"You chose me as your bride." Roslin asked "Don't you wish to lie with me?"

"I do. You are very beautiful." Robb brushed a lock of hair from her face, "But I won't force you if you don't wish it."

"Didn't you hear me? I do wish to lie with you!" She stated strongly. Roslin clasped a hand over her mouth at her outburst. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap at you."

Robb removed her hand and held it in his own, "By all means, feel free to correct me. I like a woman who says what she thinks." He smiled and Roslin could feel her own lips curling upwards.

She leaned in and pressed her lips to him. Robb softly bit down on her bottom lip and returned the kiss. She shivered under his touch s his hands caressed her; her shoulders, her breasts, her hips. Robb swept her into his arms and carried her to bed. He had never looked so beautiful as when he was on top of her. Every inch of Roslin's skin was on fire as he took her maidenhead. The fire became a gentle glow as he held her in his arms, kissing her and calling her beautiful.

"I meant what I said, earlier." She murmured, "I want to be a good wife to you. We can be happy together, and have many children, and grown old together."

"And I'll be a good husband to you." Robb promised, "I will never hurt you, I'll be everything you need me to be."

Roslin leaned closer to press her forehead against his, eyes wide and locked on his. Their breathes swirled together in the small space space between their lips. "I love you."