A/N: I know it has been a horribly long time since I updated. The last few months have flown in a blur of moving house, starting a new job and an increasingly mobile toddler. I hope I will be able to get back to somewhat regular updates. I really, really want to finish this, and finish it well. About 90% of what I want to happen is all there in my head, it's just getting the time to write it all down. All I can promise is that I will do my very best.

Thank you so much for your patience.

:)

XXVI

"The feast was wonderful, wasn't it?" Roslin commented as she sat at her vanity undoing the pins from her hair and allowing her tresses to tumble down her back. Robb didn't answer her so she turned her head slightly so she could catch sight of him in the mirror, seeing him lounging back against the pillows in a state of half-dress. "Robb?" she asked quizzically.

"Yes," he finally responded, smiling lazily at her. "Though I'm glad we slipped away."

"Really?" she replied with an arch of a brow. "And why might that be?"

"I wanted you to myself," he said seriously as she unpinned the last of her tresses.

"I suppose it will be a rare thing now," she returned, standing up from her vanity and turning to face him. "Being alone," she elaborated when he raised a questioning brow. "Considering all the duties we have," she continued, unfastening her dress.

"There will always be time for just you and I," he told her.

"Good," she returned, stepping out of her dress and towards the bed. "Because I've had a lot of time to think since I've been here," she continued, crawling towards him. "And I've decided that this place has far too much room and nothing to fill it with."

"And that bothers you?" Robb asked her in an amused tone, wrapping his arms around her as she came to settle against his chest.

"Greatly," she confirmed. "Though I've had an idea of what we could do with all the room…" she tailed off, whispering her fingers along his chest.

"And what might that be?" he murmured, trailing his own palm firmly up the arch of her back.

"Children," she said, peeking up at him. "Lots and lots of children."

"Hmm," Robb pulled her closer before rolling her onto her back gently, hovering above her with lust clouded eyes. "How about just one more, to be going on with?" he asked with a raised brow. "And after that, perhaps we can consider some more?"

"That sounds like a fair negotiation," Roslin smiled up at him, her hand raising up to stroke lightly down his cheek. He closed his eyes and exhaled at her touch and her smile widened. "I've missed you so much," she breathed, and his eyes fluttered open again at her words.

"Not as much as I missed you," he returned, bending down and capturing her lips before she could utter another word.

She kissed him back gladly, their lips working in perfect harmony with one another's. Desire was stirring in her already, and she couldn't help but arch her back, pressing her closer to him. In response he lowered himself even closer to her, and she could feel his own arousal against her thigh which only caused her to want him even more.

It was clear that he sensed her arousal, his hand coming to pull up the thin material of her nightdress, his action encouraging her own hands to come and unlace his breeches. She couldn't help the small moan that escaped her mouth as his hand ran up her thigh, her nightdress coming up around her waist now as she released him from his breeches. He groaned in response and she couldn't help but arch further into him again.

His lips trailed away from hers, peppering across her cheeks before he latched onto her neck, coaxing a throaty moan from her as she shifted her legs up around his waist. He took her hint, shifting himself closer to her before he finally moved himself to slip easily into her, joining them together once more. A sigh of satisfaction left Roslin's lips as he filled her, not knowing how much she had missed him like this until this very moment. He let out a groan of his own against her neck and she shuddered at the feeling of his warm breath against her.

In the next moment he began to move slowly, lifting his head up from the crook of her neck so he could meet her eyes. Roslin could not look away, his eyes holding her own fast as he moved deliciously slowly within her. Her hands gripped around the top of his arms as he continued, feeling those familiar knots beginning to tighten in her stomach already. Their breathing was coming raggedly now but still they gazed into one another's eyes, clearly neither able to look away. Roslin wasn't sure how she was ever supposed to look away now.

She saw the slight frown crease his brow in the next moment and she knew he was close, so she shifted her legs higher, feeling him push against that magical spot that never failed to snap all the knots in her stomach. Her legs shook around his waist as she cried out, his own moan of relief following in the next moment as he came to his own end. Roslin finally blinked, breaking their eye contact, as they both breathed heavily in the half-darkness.

Robb shifted to separate them once more, his forehead coming to press down against hers. She let her eyes flutter closed at his touch, exhaling in satisfaction. They stayed like that for a long moment before he pulled back slightly and pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead. She opened her eyes again at the gesture and sent him a lazy smile which he returned happily, the action lighting up his eyes.

"We ought to sleep," Roslin said regretfully after a minute.

"I know you're right," he sighed, shifting off her and moving to her side.

"There will have to be a meeting of council tomorrow," she continued as she moved onto her own side to snuggle up against him.

"What did I say earlier?" he asked her in a mock-serious tone as he pulled some furs up around them.

"Sorry," she said sheepishly, "it's just that much has happened, I don't want you to think I've neglected to tell you anything before we meet with them."

"Anything you need to tell me so that I will not look ridiculously misinformed at the meeting you can tell me over breakfast tomorrow, alright?" he murmured.

"That sounds like a fair compromise," Roslin agreed with him and he pressed another kiss to her forehead.

"Good," he returned. "Now, stop your chatter, wife," he continued in an amused tone, "and let me get some sleep, it has been far too long since I have slept well with you at my side."

Sansa stared into the flames as the sound of the storm outside continued, lightning flashing against the window panes every minute or so. She had been shown to fine chambers, though they had the distinct air of having been unused for a long time. The steward had been apologetic when she had arrived, ordering servants to make chambers ready for her. He had entertained her in a smaller parlour for an hour or so while they were prepared, ensuring she had hot food and wine to satiate her. She had been grateful to him, and waved away his apologies as he would not have thought to have expected her.

She had been glad when the chambers were ready, however, feeling tired and needing some time to herself to consider what she ought to write to Aegon. One of the servants had brought her writing materials at her request and they sat waiting for her on the table near the window. For now though she was sat near the fire, lost in thought. She had never considered that her journey would be interrupted. Perhaps that had been naïve of her, but since everything had gone so smoothly so far she had just assumed that this would too. She had assumed that she would be back with her husband within a week.

Her only worries had been about how she would feel about being back in the Red Keep again. She had never considered the possibility that she would never get there. A heavy sigh left her as she turned away from the fire and looked towards the window. The rain was lashing against the panes and she could hear the wind whistling through every crack in the wood and stone work of the keep. Thunder was rumbling overhead, only broken now and again by another lightning strike. Now she was off the ship and within strong walls the storm no longer instilled fear in her.

Arya had always loved storms. Sansa smiled slightly at the numerous memories of her mother exasperatedly sending servants out to drag Arya back from the old tower where she would inevitably be skulking so she could watch the storm unfold. Sansa had preferred watching from the keep, from the big window along the upstairs hallway that looked out towards the Wolfswood. Sometimes her father would come and watch it with her. The memory clenched at her heart slightly as she remembered the solid weight of his reassuring hand on her shoulder.

She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. Now was not the time to dwell on the past. Now she had to pick herself up and write to Aegon. She hoped her husband would not be too disappointed, that he would know that the delay was necessary. Likely it would not be a long one, most storms blew themselves out overnight and she thought it likely that this one would be much the same. She would encourage him not to worry, tell him that the Captain was just being cautious and that the steward at Dragonstone was being attentive and kind to her. He would be satisfied with that, she was sure of it.

Sansa made to stand, a knock coming at the door as she rose up, a slight frown coming to crease her brow at the unexpected interruption. She moved to open it, wondering who had come at such a late hour, a smile coming to her face when she recognised Brienne. "My lady," she greeted her happily, "I wasn't expecting you, please, come in. I hope they have found suitable chambers for you."

"Thank you for your concern, my queen," Brienne replied as she entered, Sansa closing the door behind her before a draught could get in. "I'm sorry to come so late, but the Captain brought news to the keep and I volunteered to relay the information to you."

"What has happened?" Sansa asked her with wide eyes.

"The men finally managed to secure the ship, but alas despite their efforts it is now un-sailable," Brienne told her heavily, and Sansa felt her stomach drop slightly.

"Oh," she said in a small voice. "I see…what happened? What will happen now?"

"Lightning struck the main mast," Brienne told her. "It is irreparable I believe, so we have little choice now but to remain here until another ship can be sent from the Capital."

"Well, once this storm blows over it will be safe to send a raven out, and likely Aegon will organise a replacement at once. I'm sure we will not be here for any more than a week, my lady," Sansa smiled at her in a reassuring manner and Brienne returned her gesture.

"I am not worried for myself, my queen, merely for you, in your condition," Brienne told her.

"You're kind to be concerned," Sansa replied. "But do not trouble yourself. I am perfectly well and I have some moons left before the baby is due to be born. I will be safely back at the Capital before then, I assure you."

Aegon sat up slightly straighter on the Iron Throne as the name was announced. It was early to be holding court, but the new arrival had reached the Capital sooner than expected and he felt the meeting could not wait. The outcome would either solve many problems for him, or create more that he did not need. He took a breath. Gods he hoped it went well.

The tap of the cane against the stone floor drew his eyes to Willas Tyrell, and Aegon appraised him as the man limped slowly towards the throne. He had the typical Tyrell look, dark hair and almost golden eyes, tall and with the look of a man who used to be powerfully built. Aegon imagined that his injury had stripped him of much of his strength, though Oberyn had told him that the man's mind was still as sharp as ever. Aegon hoped that that was true, and that Willas would be clever enough to afford him his unwavering loyalty.

"Your Grace," Willas greeted as he came to a halt before the throne and managed to drop into a half-bow using his cane for support. "Thank you for greeting me at such an early hour."

"Thank you for making such haste to get here," Aegon returned smoothly as the man straightened up.

"I was glad to come," Willas said. "To pledge my family's loyalty to you. I know that my father regretfully supported the Lannisters against you, but I assure you that my brothers and I will gratefully bend the knee to your mercy, and hope that it would extend to allowing our father to live out the rest of his days in a quiet and comfortable exile."

"I'm grateful for your support," Aegon returned. "In return I propose that both your father and grandmother will be housed in comfort within the city for the next year, after which I will find them appropriate lodgings in the Crownlands. They will live comfortable, if not lavish, lives provided they keep themselves quietly. Furthermore, I propose that you stay on here in the Capital and take a seat on my small council, as an advisor at first, but later perhaps as a permanent member."

"That is most gracious of you, your Grace, and most generous," Willas inclined his head deeply.

"Then you accept?" Aegon tilted his head to the side expectantly.

"Gladly your Grace," Willas nodded. "Though, I must ask after the wellbeing of my sister. Margaery was unfairly imprisoned by the Lannisters, and my father had long campaigned for her release – the refusal was why he withdrew his forces from the Capital. Now that they are rightfully deposed, would you see fit to allow her to return to Highgarden? She has been through enough."

"Your sister has been housed in comfort since I took my rightful throne," Aegon said calmly. "She has been well treated here, I assure you of that. When I am certain that the roads are safe and the kingdoms are at peace once more I will gladly provide her an escort back to Highgarden, I would only ask that you consult me on any match you may be considering for her."

"I gladly agree, your Grace," Willas bowed his head once more, and Aegon nodded slightly.

"Then as we are in agreement I will keep you no longer here. There are men waiting to show you to your rooms," Aegon beckoned forward those who were waiting to attend on Willas. "I hope you settle in well, and I will arrange a luncheon for you with your sister for this afternoon, and send word of the next council meeting."

"Thank you, your Grace," Willas bowed as lowly as he could manage before turning away to follow on after the men who were to show him to his chambers.

Aegon watched him out of sight before he turned his head slightly to the side and beckoned to the man who had been skulking in the shadows behind one of the pillars. His uncle approached, a slightly strained smiled playing about his lips as he came to the base of the Iron Throne. Aegon descended the steps to meet him, placing a hand on the back of his shoulder and steering him away to a quiet corner away from prying ears.

"Well?" Aegon asked him.

"That went well," Oberyn returned. "He will be an excellent addition to the council, I am sure of it. He is not devious like his grandmother, nor stupid like his father."

"Then what is worrying you?" Aegon lowered his voice further.

"Your intention to have Willas betrothed to Arianne," Oberyn began. "It is a good idea, in principle, and my brother is open to discuss it."

"Then what is the problem?" Aegon asked.

"Aegon," his tone was slightly awkward. "You likely know that the customs in Dorne are somewhat different to the rest of the kingdoms." Aegon nodded his understanding, gesturing for his uncle to continue. "Our lives are – freer," Oberyn continued. "We are not bound to the same traditions and expectations."

"Uncle," Aegon sighed slightly. "Would you get to the point?"

"Arianne is no maid," Oberyn said bluntly. "She has had lovers, some of whom are still present at Doran's court. If a party from Highgarden were sent to discuss any arrangements for a betrothal, it may be better that such men were not present. Doran has suggested they may be included in the party he will be sending to attend your coronation – if you are agreeable?"

"Who are these men?" Aegon asked him.

"Ser Daemon Sand, and Ser Gerold Dayne," Oberyn told him, and Aegon nodded slowly.

"Very well," he agreed. "Have Doran name them as part of the coronation party; with luck they will see it as an honour and not question whether there are any ulterior motives."

"It matters not whether they suspect another motive, they will do as they are commanded," Oberyn assured him. "There was another matter to which Doran asked for your instruction – what your intentions are for the girl, Myrcella?"

Aegon sighed heavily. He had given little thought for Tommen and Myrcella, just knowing that they were contained and friendless was enough for him for the moment. He knew he would have to consider more than their immediate futures. Perhaps it would be something to discuss with his council. For now though, he thought it best that the false princess remained where she was. He regarded his uncle for a moment, not seeing any hint of worry in his features.

"If Doran is agreeable then I think it best she stay where she is for the time being," he said.

"Of course," Oberyn bowed his head. "She is a sweet girl, by all accounts, I am sure Doran will be happy to keep watch over her until you make a decision over her future."

"Thank you," Aegon said, "and thank your brother -," he cut off as footsteps approached them, turning his head to see a young squire approaching with a letter. The young man bowed before them before offering the letter to Aegon.

He took it, recognising the seal that he had given to Sansa when they had parted, the three headed dragon rising up behind the head of a direwolf. Hurriedly he snapped it open, hoping it was mere pleasantries and that nothing had happened on her journey. The last letter she had sent had been from White Harbour, ensuring him that she was well and that she would see him soon. He had not been expecting another letter, expecting their next words to one another would be exchanged in person.

Aegon unrolled the scroll and read hurriedly, a frown setting deep into his brow as he read. He took a breath. She was well, as was the baby, that was the most important thing he had to take from her words. She was being well looked after on Dragonstone. She was fine.

"Aegon?" Oberyn asked in concern.

"Sansa was caught in a storm," he told his uncle calmly, seeing his brows shoot up. "She is fine," Aegon assured. "They made port at Dragonstone and she is being looked after by the steward, though the ship's mast was struck by lightning in the harbour and it is now un-sailable."

"Then you will send another," Oberyn clapped a hand on his shoulder. "You will get her back here safely, it will just not be as quickly as you had anticipated. Try not to worry, as you said, she is being well looked after. Though I am sorry she is delayed, I have been much looking forward to meeting her."

Robb thanked the servant that he did not recognise – likely one of Roslin's many new appointments – and she dipped into an elegant curtsey, sending a small smile to Roslin, before she backed from their chambers and closed the door. Almost at once Robb began piling his plate with food, he had missed the cooking here. It took him a few minutes to realise that his wife was not eating, her expression uneasy as she chewed slightly on her bottom lip.

"What is it?" he asked her, and she blinked rapidly. He had clearly pulled her from deep thought.

"I have to tell you something," she said.

"Before council," he nodded his head. "I know, there are likely many things I need to know."

"You need to know this first," she said quietly, her gaze averting slightly.

"Then tell me," he said, placing his knife back on his plate and frowning slightly.

She seemed to steel herself, her hand shaking slightly as she reached out for a sip of wine. His frown deepened. Roslin did not usually indulge in wine at breakfast. He felt a tightening in his stomach and a strange sense of foreboding as he searched his mind for what could possibly be so awful that she was this afraid of telling him about it.

"Do you remember when I wrote to you about finding that man in the crypts?" she asked him in a slightly rushed manner, and his brow creased in thought for a moment.

"Yes," he finally said, remembering. "You said he was half-starved and tortured, that it was Ramsay's doing…what was it he called himself? Reek?"

"Yes," Roslin confirmed. "I put him in Jeyne's care, and she tended to him – hoping that in time she might be able to mend his broken mind."

"You said that, in your letter," he said. "Roslin, what is this about?"

"In time she discovered his true identity," she told him, voice barely more than a whisper.

"Who is he?" he asked her.

"There was a reason I didn't tell you in a letter, he was so broken, Robb. So unrecognisable from the man that you had described to me. I could not have known it was him, if I had perhaps I would have done things differently but -," she cut off, clearly taking a deep breath. "But once I knew, I thought it best that he continued being tended to, that perhaps if he regained his true senses then he would understand why he would have to die -"

"Roslin!" he cut her off sharply, something like realisation dawning on him. "Who is he?" he asked her through gritted teeth, his fists clenching.

"Theon," her voice, barely more than a whisper, sounded like a deafening roar to him.

In an instant he was on his feet, his legs bumping against the table as he stood, sending his cup spilling across the wooden top and clashing against his plate. Roslin visibly jumped but he felt no remorse. There was only anger. Anger at Theon. Anger at what that bastard had done. Anger that Ramsay had been the one to get his hands on him first. Anger at the way he had been treated with such kindness by his wife. Even after the fact. Even after she knew who he truly was. He moved his furious eyes to her and she shrank back slightly in fear.

"How could you keep this from me?" he spat, and she flinched.

"Perhaps I shouldn't have," she whispered. "But what difference would it have made? It would have only angered you, so far away, that you could not deal justice to him. I knew you wanted to deal justice to him yourself, Robb -"

"So he has been kept in chains, then?!" he demanded of her, already knowing the answer.

"He has been under guard in the Maester's tower," she told him, and he kicked the table, sending more plates and cups clashing together. "To try and recover his mind," she continued desperately. "Don't you see?! Don't you understand, Robb?! I didn't want you to have to execute a tortured madman, I wanted you to be able to execute Theon Greyjoy – the man who betrayed you! I wanted him to understand the swing of your sword!"

"I don't care!" he roared at her, smashing his fist against the hard wood of the table top. "I don't care that he was tortured into madness! It does not change what he did! He was supposed to be my friend, my brother, and he betrayed me – he stole my home and he let me believe he murdered my little brothers. He did murder those poor little boys! Whatever Ramsay did to him, he deserved it. I don't care if it broke his mind, it doesn't change what he did! He deserves to die, mad or not, because he was not mad when he went back on his promise to me. He was not mad when he killed those boys. He. Was. Not. Mad. He was a vile betrayer, as Bolton was, and he will die as he did!"

"I know, Robb, I know," Roslin held her hands up in surrender as she rose up to her own feet. "I understand, I do. Of course he deserves to die – I never thought otherwise. I'm sorry, I am so, so sorry that I didn't tell you. I should have, I realise that now, I -"

"Yes you should have," he cut her off without remorse. "You should have told me, and you should have locked him in chains. How can I trust you after this?"

"Robb?" she gasped, her expression as though he had struck her.

"Where is he?" he demanded, not caring that he had hurt her. Part of him wanted to hurt her more.

"I told you, the Maester's tower," she told him in a constricted voice.

"I think it best I meet with council alone today," he told her as he moved to the door.

"But -," she began, turning round as though to follow him.

"I said," he turned on her after he wrenched open the door, pointing a finger at her. "I will meet with council alone today, and I don't want to hear another word about it."

With that he stamped through the door, slamming it in his wake and ignoring the distinct sob that left her as he pounded down the hallway, away from her and her betrayal.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed that guys, I'm hopeful the next chapter will take weeks as opposed to months.

:)