Savages - LolaStark

Chapter Twenty-Two

[Robb]

There was something about the wind, that day, that had lead Robb's thoughts astray.

His thoughts weren't where they should have been, the conversation that was presented at the Council's table. Instead his mind had wandered up to the tall tower where his chambers were made. In the large bed near the center of the room his Lady slept.

She would be there, just as she had been for days, lying with a large fur blanket pulled up to her chin as she stared out the enormous window that looked out over the sea. She had spoken very little about their several months apart since she'd arrived only a few days prior. When he'd leave the room she'd grab his hand, squeeze it with what little strength she seemed to have and whisper a few words in the Old Tongue before falling back into the depression that had taken over her.

He knew why she was like this, why she refused to eat or why she'd wake up screaming out in agony for a pain that only existed in her memories. Robb would wake her, tell her she was safe and the hold her as she'd weep for a loss she'd had no control over. It hadn't been her fault, he told her again and again as she'd whisper apologies to him in the darkest part of the night. But still she felt responsible.

Responsible for the death of their unborn child.

Over the last few mornings he'd wake before her, watch her finally succumb to sleep at which point he would let his eyes linger over the places where her flesh was no longer soft and flawless. In place of her fair skin were scars and bruises, deep angry distorted flesh around her wrists and ankles where the healing of her wounds had only left behind ugly reminders. She still hadn't spoken about the scar on her face or how she'd received it. Robb would sometimes trace over the pink scar with his fingertips, wishing he'd spared her from the horrors she had faced.

He hadn't even thought about Roslin's feelings when he'd brought Fallon to his rooms. But Roslin did not seem to care. In fact, she seemed genuinely happy to see that Fallon was safe. Robb had even seen her smile when Fallon grabbed hold of his hand one night in the fortress' dining hall.

He knew it wasn't fair or proper, keeping Fallon when he had a wife to tend to. And he intended to do something about it. But each night when he'd take the long walk up to the tall tower, he'd find Fallon standing outside his door with pleading eyes and he could not, nor would he, deny her.

Because when it came down to it, he needed her by his side just as badly.

He thought of sending Roslin to Riverrun where his mother was currently, but he didn't think it fair to her, if he were to send his Queen away but keep his lover by his side.

Robb had been overjoyed to find out that his mother was safe in her family home with a newly found Arya who had wandered into Edmure Tully's keep one afternoon. News of both of their safety had come from the Greatjon who had been the one to reveal the tale of the Red Wedding and Rowan's resurrection thereafter. No one else seemed willing or prepared to talk about it.

"His Grace knows that executing Lord Tywin and the Kingslayer would only delay or possibly extinguish any chances he has of rescuing his sister," said the Blackfish. Brynden Tully had taken Edmure's seat on the council when Robb had sent his uncle back to keep charge of the Trident.

He was right. Robb had no intentions of disposing of two of his largest hostages without his sister's safety confirmed. He wanted Sansa back in the North, or at Riverrun. And not until he saw her would he bring his sword down on the Lion's head.

"Lady Olenna Tyrell, Ser Garlan's grandmother, as assured me of Sansa's safety after the wedding," Robb explained. "Garlan's sister, Margaery, will marry Joffrey within a fortnight, at which point our plan will be executed and Tommen will take his brother's place on the Iron Throne."

"You think we should trust an old bag-" the Greatjon started but received a raised eyebrow from Garlan sitting across the table. "Sorry lad, but a Lannister bastard on the Throne is just as shite as another."

"A Lannister bastard, he may be," Dearg Crowl interjected. "But he's still a boy and his wife a woman. The Tyrells will keep the child in line until he comes of age. Once the Lioness has been brought down that is."

It was Cersei they spoke of. All knew that this plan would not succeed so long as the Queen still controlled her son. She would still rule as regent and the Tyrells promise would hold no weight. Robb wondered how easy it would be to remove the Lioness from her cub. It was Cersei and her brother who had nearly killed Bran, Cersei who had sent men to finish the job and kill Fallon as well.

She was as guilty as her father and would therefore suffer the same fate.

"My grandmother will not fail us," Garlan said, his arms crossed over his chest. "If she says your sister will be safe, Your Grace, then she has probably already devised a plan to ensure that outcome. In the meantime, we should focus our efforts on the South."

"What good would our efforts be on the South, son, when it is your family who craves power over them?" Medger Cerwyn asked but Robb knew what Garlan meant by a Southern campaign.

"He means for us to win over their loyalty," Robb explained. "The Dornish hate the Lannisters almost as much as we do, and Baratheons certainly aren't in high esteem either. If we were to send a convoy to barter peace between House Tyrell and the North, we could find the aid we need to finish this war."

"I thought this war was finished once we get rid of the Kingslayer's demented bastard?" Cley exclaimed, his brow furrowed and each of the men in the room let loose a hearty chuckle.

"Boy," the Blackfish said through his cold laughter. "This war is far from over. We may have won the West, the Trident and the North back from those Iron dogs. But we still have enemies waiting for another chance to strike. Do you think Stannis Baratheon won't come after the Iron Throne once he hears the Lannisters have been extinguished?"

"There is word that Stannis is dead, Milord," Cley interjected but the Blackfish only laughed again."

"Yes, and we know how reliable those words have been in the past, don't we men?" he replied and Robb knew of who he spoke. "Hell we had given up on young Garlan here and we'd already buried Fallon Magnar. You think Stannis isn't just as resilient?"

"And let's not forget about that shite for brains, Balon Greyjoy," the Greatjon added. "He's not just going to standby as we seek justice for the murder they done on them Stark boys."

Robb looked at the table instead of the eyes that were on him when suddenly Garlan stood.

"But," he said quickly. "I thought she'd have told you by now-" Garlan paused, looking at Robb's expression.

Robb's brow furrowed in confusion.

"Thought she'd told me what?" he asked. "She has barely spoken."

Garlan looked surprised upon hearing that Fallon had said very little upon her return. Robb found it hard not to be anxious, wishing very much to know what she'd been through to get here.

"Bran and Rickon are not dead," he said and the words were like heavy stones thrust at him.

"I don't understand. If they are not dead then where are they?" Robb asked quickly and Garlan looked towards Broden and Rowan who sat looking equally as anxious as their king.

"Sent to Skagos, for their safety."

"Skagos?" Robb asked frantically. "Skagos is still unstable. Cersei Lannister's men still hold Kingshouse. Where would they even begin to seek solace?"

"Fallon mentioned Skane."

"Skane?!" Broden said, his expression concerned. "Certainly you must be mistaken? Skane is still rebel land. Tribes that do not have any fondness for Skagosi lords. Savages."

"No mistake, My Lord," Garlan affirmed. "I was told they'd be safe with his Grace's brother, Jon Snow and Fallon's lady, Enat."

"Enat?!" Dearg shouted in surprise at the name of his niece, his face mirroring that of Rowan's. Both looked astonished at the news that Enat was alive let alone in Skagos.

"How did you come by this news?" Robb asked quickly.

"Drystan Magnar told me he sent them there himself. Fallon and I were to follow but she refused. By then she'd already heard of Bolton's plan for the Wedding. We'd sent word of course but none of our letters ever came through."

"You say our father was at Winterfell?" Rowan asked curiously and Garlan nodded.

"If he and Jon deserted the Night's Watch-" Robb started.

"But they didn't. They had many of the Night's Watchmen with them. It was how the pushed back so many of Bolton's men, and what was left of that Greyjoy girl's ironborn," Garlan replied.

"Greyjoy girl? Surely you must mean the boy? Theon the traitor," the Greatjon spouted but Garlan shook his head and looked up to Robb.

"I'd assumed she'd told you that as well," he said, shaking his head. "Seven Hells has she told you anything?"

Robb could see the confusion and frustration on his face at the lack of the council's understanding.

"Leave us," he said calmly, hearing the uproar immediately over his decision to send them out in the middle of all of so much new information. But Robb needed the whole story and he needed to take it all in, without worrying about any further outbursts or distractions from that of his council. "I said, leave us," he said, this time his voice firm, letting them know he did not mean to argue the point further.

Robb watched as each of his men stood, save Garlan, with reluctance and then made their way out of the large study and down the stone steps towards the keep. He then looked to Garlan, who was no longer sitting back boredly. Now he was at full attention.

"Tell me about Theon," Robb said sternly.

"You must know, he did not betray you. He went to his lord father, asked for aid and was refused. But they would not send him back. They dragged him to Winterfell. He was held prisoner with your household. It was he who helped your brothers escape with Enat."

"How do you know this?" Robb asked in disbelief. "Or is another secret she has not told me."

"Do not be angry with her, Robb," Garlan warned. "She has been through a great deal."

"None of which she will confess to me," he said, feeling embarrassed at his outburst. "Tell me what happened to her. I know what occurred in the forest, with Rowan and-" he started but found that he could finish.

He had not been able to say the words 'my child' for fear of how much he would ache if he did so. He did not want a reason to feel hurt by what Fallon had done. He knew it was unintentional and that no matter the outcome he would feel a hole in his heart. But this unborn child he did not know. Fallon was everything to him. Losing her once was enough to prove how easily darkness had took hold of him in her absence. He would not experience that again.

"Tell me everything."

"Perhaps it would be better if she-" Garlan started reluctantly but Robb shook his head.

"You have spent enough time with Fallon, Tyrell, to know that Fallon does not share freely if she does not wish to," Robb explained.

"Yes, but surely if she had some time-"

"Time is something that I seem to lack these days," Robb said quietly.

"I suppose I should start at the beginning then," Garlan told him. "After I sent my last letter from Dragonstone." Robb nodded. "But be warned. These stories are not pleasant ones. The things she has faced-there is no man braver than that of your lady."

"I thought I asked for something that I did not already know?" Robb said, a sad smile accompanying his words.

And Garlan began.

[Roslin]

She felt like the outsider.

Here amongst strangers, amongst men who looked at her and did not see their Queen. They only saw Frey.

Frey no longer, she realized.

But it was the person she was to become that she did not understand.

All this time she thought she would marry Robb Stark, she had never expected it to feel the way it did now. She did not feel like a bride, a newly born woman swept up in the love she had always believed had accompanied marriage. She had not even felt the touch of her husband's hands on her since his coronation ball many months prior.

Even then Roslin had known for the King's love.

And it was not for her.

Here she was still a virgin, married to the King in the North who shared his bed with the Skagosi beauty that held his heart so firmly. So long as Fallon Magnar held Robb's heart, Roslin was sure she would never become a true wife. But the worst part was, she was not entirely sure that she minded so much.

Her lady maid, Brae, had whispered words of outrage, spouting that a King that refuses to take his bride to bed is no King at all. And the words the woman had saved for Fallon, well, Roslin could hardly repeat them.

But even now, Roslin could not muster up the pretense of anger towards the Skagosi woman, nor her husband. How could she be unhappy when two people who were truly meant for one another had been reunited? Even when she tried to muster up the strength to be bothered by the presence of Fallon Magnar, she could do nothing but find a warm familiarity in those green eyes of hers.

So like another's.

Roslin was young and so very naive at times. Her idea of marriage may not have been a realistic one, but she could not help but dream of smiles and vows said before the Seven. A man to cherish and love and to be cherished and loved by. Robb was her husband by the law, in name she had been wed to the King in the North. But in actuality, she felt wed to another.

Fallon may have never said the words, whatever words Skagosi said to their husbands on their wedding day. But Roslin could see she was more of a wife to Robb Stark than she'd ever be able to be.

She walked slowly through the courtyard, holding her hands delicately in front of her as she listened to her footsteps on the stones and did not bother to speak to Brae who walked alongside her in silence. The Stone Garden of Casterly Rock was said to be a place that she could seek out answers for her endless questions. It was a place of solace, a courtyard that was engulfed in beauty, she'd been told. But she had yet to see it for herself.

"My Lady, perhaps we should come back another time," Brae whispered and Roslin looked up to see what the girl was fussing over.

The garden was a warm place, in contrast to most places in the castle and inside bloomed some of the most exquisite flowers and and intricate stone assemblies she'd ever seen. But there, in the middle of the garden stood a great tree, the blood-red leaves and the massive trunk that rose up so far that she had to crane her neck to take it all in.

She did not know why Casterly Rock had a weirwood, nor how it had grown so large in such a confined area such as a castle. But she did see the reason why Brae had been so eager to come back.

There, beneath the weirwood, sat Fallon. It was the first time since her arrival that she'd seen her out of Robb's rooms. She'd been quiet and it was clear after overhearing a private conversation between Rowan and his brother, why she'd been so absent. It was none of her business, or perhaps it was. Were she a jealous type of girl, she might have minded that her husband very nearly had a bastard child to care for. Where would she be then, she had thought.

She was wearing a fine dress, made of deep purples and blues amongst intricate patterns that Roslin found quite beautiful. It left most of her arms exposed and Roslin could see scars over her wrists and bruise on her flesh. In fact, the exquisiteness of the gown was in great contrast to the frail figure of the woman whose eyes were closed in some peaceful state.

Grey Wind, the great direwolf who was very shy around Roslin, was lying down on the ground beside her, his oversized head in the woman's lap with her coal-black hair falling down her back. She had heard much about direwolves and their protectiveness over the ones they were bonded to. She'd seen him around Robb before and he was cautious about strangers coming near him that he had not been acclimated to. But as of late, he never seemed to leave Fallon's side, most especially when Robb was in council meetings or at the camp.

She thought for a moment about leaving as Brae had suggestion. She hated to think her presence would disturb the two. But before she could walk away, Fallon and Grey Wind seemed to open their eyes simultaneously.

"Roslin," Fallon's tired voice acknowledged. Grey raised his head from her lap for only a moment to look at the younger girl with some interest before groaning tiredly and nuzzling back into the fine fabrics of Fallon's dress.

"I'm sorry to disturb you," she whispered and Fallon gave her small smile as she shook her head.

"Of course you are not," she said, her voice slightly hoarse and her eyes red. Roslin wondered how long ago she had stopped crying. "I was just-" she started but could not seem to figure out how to finish and trailed off as she looked down at Grey, stroking his thick fur through her fingertips.

"Leave us, Brae," Roslin whispered to her maid who gave her a warning glance.

She looked away, however, ignoring the older girl's suggestion and sat on the bench closest to where Fallon was sitting in the grass. It was all very unnatural, this place, this woman. Their interaction even was something strange that Roslin could not seem to truly understand.

"My presence has been a burden to you," Fallon told her, not looking at her but instead up at the leaves that were like fire to the large weirwood above. "For that I am sorry."

"A burden?" Roslin asked, trying to sound surprised by the question when in actuality, she was not.

"Yes of course. I have come into your life, stolen the life that is rightfully yours, Your Grace," Fallon told her and Roslin tried to seem naive to it. "My place is not in your husband's bed. I do realize that," she said and Roslin felt her cheeks flush pink. "I apologize for putting you in such a position here, with the council, with Robb."

"I cannot claim to be ignorant of my husband's desires," she replied quietly. "You share something with him that I shall never have. I watched you, at the wedding. I saw you fight to save his life when you thought Rowan was Robb."

"I would have fought just as hard for my brother," was Fallon's tense reply. Grey looked up at the sudden change in her tone and she seemed to take notice of it as well as she looked down at Roslin, her green eyes alight.

"If I'd have known-" she tried to say. "I would have stayed away."

"Nonsense," Roslin replied, placing her hand on Fallon's shoulder who flinched slightly at the contact. "If you hadn't come back, he'd have never stopped searching for you."

"He has a duty to you," Fallon said.

"I know that he can never love me," Roslin whispered, looking down at her hands.

"Robb has a very large heart. He loves many-"

"Not the way that he loves you," Roslin interrupted. "Maybe that should anger me. Brae tells me it is right to hate you."

"You have every right to," Fallon said, the dark circles under her eyes contrasting against the vibrant green above them. "I have usurped your place and that gives you every reason to feel disdain for my presence here. But do know that since my return, while I have been in his chambers, he and I-" she said plainly. "We have not lain together."

Again, Roslin felt the burning in her fair-skinned cheeks and lowered her head to hide the embarrassment in her eyes. She knew that Fallon and Robb were lovers. But the older girl mentioning it so nonchalantly made Roslin realize just how young and inexperienced she really felt.

"I want to say that I can leave," Fallon said, her eyes watering. "I want to do that for you Roslin. You are his wife and I want to leave him in your capable hands but-" Roslin felt her heart aching as Fallon's voice cracked with emotion. "The thought of leaving him pains me, deep within my heart. I fought so hard to get back to him. To leave him now would be-" she trailed off.

Roslin wanted to speak. But there was nothing she could say. How could she look into those familiar eyes, familiar yet so different, and tell her to leave. She did not dream of Robb's arms or Robb's lips. She did not see blue eyes in her dreams or hear his voice in her mind each night as she'd lie down for bed.

It was green.

It was him.

"Can you forgive me, for feeling the way that I do?" Fallon asked then.

"What is there to forgive?" Roslin replied. "You and I were to be sisters, perhaps-" she tried to say and then realized her words might sound too dangerously close to a truth she refused to speak. "Perhaps we can find a way to be good friends. We all need time to heal and my mother always said I was a patient girl."

Fallon tried to smile then and Roslin no longer saw the woman who was her husband's lover. Her husbands true love.

In that smile and those eyes, that expression with such familiarity.

She saw Rowan.

[Rowan]

He was not himself.

He had not felt like himself since he had felt the hand of death clutching him tightly. Everything felt wrong since then. He felt anger, he felt hatred. All things he could not explain in any words but that of his own mind.

He thought perhaps he needed time away from her, to heal, perhaps. He had never thought he'd feel the way he did towards her. Towards his selfless sister. He loved Fallon with all of his heart, that had not changed. But there was a darkness inside him now that seemed to grow each time he thought of her pained cries in the night and of a child who would never know her, a child who would remain nameless for all eternity.

Grooming his horse usually helped him think. But right now, with Broden's dark glare in his direction, he found his normally welcomed distraction more of a hindrance. His brother had not stopped his angry glares since Rowan had told them of what had occurred after the wedding.

After he had died.

And it had only grown darker since he'd told Broden of his plan to stay and command the Skagosi vanguard.

"You still plan to defy me?" Broden asked and Rowan refused to answer. "I leave, in two mornings time, to return to our home, and you tell me you wish not to go?"

"I have told you what I wish," Rowan said, his voice hard and Broden's frown, if it was possible, deepened further.

"She does not deserve this anger you harbor for her," his brother spoke, his voice steady. Always steady. Broden very rarely lost his cool head, no matter how dark his tone increased. He was the level-headed one. And he liked to remind Rowan of that.

"What anger I have is none of your concern," Rowan growled out. Broden did not understand what Rowan was feeling, that his anger did not simply stem from Fallon's act of sacrifice.

"When your anger is misguided, it is my duty to make sure you realize that."

"What do you know of my anger?!" Rowan said then, his voice raised as he threw the brush he was using on his stallion to the ground. "You do not know what it feels like to have welcomed death, only to return to find that your life has taken the place of an innocent child's!"

"She meant to be the one to die for you, Brother," Broden reminded him, for what seemed like the hundredth time. "She was fully willing to give her life for yours and yet you treat her like she was the one who plunged the knife through your heart."

"My life was already claimed. I had given myself to the gods and she stole it back with that black witchcraft. And she has paid the price, yes. But so have I. I feel the darkness that was left behind. The darkness of the hand that pulled me from my death."

"What you feel is your unwarranted hatred, Rowan," Broden replied. "You persecute her, for a choice she made in the midst of grief. Had it been me-"

"Had it been you, you would have let me die."

Broden didn't speak then. He looked at Rowan with disappointment in his light eyes. Rowan and Broden had always found reasons to argue. He loved his brother, but they did not always see eye to eye. And now was no different.

"I knew from the time I was very young that Fallon would be the Nighean," he said, looking away. Rowan did not know why his brother was talking of the past. Broden very rarely dwelled in stories from their childhood and right now, Rowan would have preferred it had been kept that way. "She was brave and full of such a passion that I knew I could never match it. I knew she was different. And I knew, even when I was a boy that I would die for that girl. But she loved you best. Always, she loved you more than any of us. Brother, if it had been me at that wedding, me that had died in your place, Fallon could have accepted that. She would have been heartbroken, she would have mourned my death, but she would have accepted it. But not you. For you, she planned to die. Because she loves you best."

"I cannot forgive her, not yet. Not for turning me into this monster," Rowan replied finally, after feeling the weight of Broden's words upon his chest.

"But you should," another voice said, and both Magnar brothers turned to see Robb Stark, standing close by. Rowan frowned.

"If she has sent you to tell me-"

"She has not sent me," Robb interrupted forcefully. "I came to speak with Broden but I could not help but overhear your conversation. Pardon the intrusion. But I am still confused by your anger at her."

"I will tell you as I told my brother, it is none of your concern."

Rowan was tired of the questions. No one understood these feelings deep within him. even he couldn't explain the hold upon him, the tight clamp of darkness twisting through him.

"She will not heal if she is not forgiven, not that I believe she needs forgiveness, yours, mine or otherwise," Robb said calmly. "I do not say these things to anger you further. But do know that she will never move past this so long as you hold her responsible."

"I love her, I do. But I cannot help but feel cheated." Rowan said then as the three men shifted in the stables. "How can you of all people forgive what she has done?"

"How can I not?" Robb responded angrily, his brow furrowed. "I lost her. We all lost her. How can I be anything but thankful that she is alive?"

"And your son?" Rowan asked bitterly. "What of his life?"

Rowan could see the pain in the king's eyes, his eyes traveled south towards the ground as if there was something more interesting in his muddy boots than in the answer he wanted to give. Rowan felt the anger fade slightly, realizing the question was out of place. But before he could apologize Robb caught his eyes once more.

"I can only be so selfish, Rowan," he whispered. "I am ashamed to say, that-"

There was a long pause.

"Perhaps it was our gods, the old, who interfered that night. If Fallon were still with child I would be in no way capable of doing a King's duty, of letting her go," Robb finished and both Magnars furrowed their brows in a mirrored fashion.

"Let her go?" Broden asked curiously whilst Robb clutched the side of the stable wall with a tight grip.

"I vowed I would marry your sister, that I would honor her, despite the pact she made with the Freys. But I broke that vow when I married Roslin."

"Stark," Broden interrupted. "Fallon was dead to us then. No one blames you for doing what you thought you had to."

"Yes and now I must live with that decision, and live with the honor I put aside for the sake of glory. For the sake of revenge," was Robb's angry reply. "I cannot keep her here and dishonor her further. She deserves more than I can offer."

"Certainly you jest," Rowan scoffed.

"I am afraid not," the king replied darkly.

Rowan could see then the sacrifice Robb was attempting to make. By law, he was wed to Roslin. Fallon could stay as his mistress and no one would fault him. Every man knew of Robb's love for her, even his own wife knew the king's heart would never be free. And yet he refused to bring her to such a level, to make bastards who would never have a name.

Rowan could understand. Even Fallon would understand. But she would not accept it.

"She will not leave," Broden said boredly, almost amused.

It was true, Fallon would find Robb's reasoning incompetent. She had changed so much since her departure from Skagos that Rowan hardly recognized the girl who was once so selfless that she would do whatever was asked of her so long as it was to help her loved ones. But he had a sneaking suspicion that if Robb told her to leave, sent her away, that she would refuse.

"I need you to take her to home, to Skagos."

Both of them looked at Robb in surprise.

Rowan then looked to his brother and could see the reluctance in his eyes as he met Rowan's questioning glance. Rowan had longed for home for some time, as had Fallon and Broden. But Broden knew what Rowan's stare meant. It meant that if Fallon was to leave Casterly Rock, one of them would have to stay. Skagosi warriors would fight for their king, but they would want a Magnar to lead them as well.

Rowan had wanted to go, find peace somewhere in solitude until he could face his new reality, but if the king wished for Fallon to return to Skagos, then his choice was no longer his own.

"I will stay then," Rowan said and before Broden could interrupt he put his hand up. "I will stay in her place. The men will expect it to be this way. If she leaves them, they will need appeasement."

"I cannot ask that of you," Robb said, shaking his head. "I have kept you from your home for far too long."

"Kingshouse will still stand when this war is over, my brother will see to that," Rowan replied finally.

"So you will do it then? Broden?" Robb asked, his voice tired. "I know you would protect her with your own life."

"Yes, I can assure you she will be safe with me, Stark," Broden spoke. "But I can't be sure who will protect your life from her once you've told her this news."

"She will not agree to this," Rowan added and Robb nodded.

"I would only be worried if she did agree to it," he replied, a fair attempt at humor, defeated by the weariness in Robb's eyes and voice.

When the king had once again left the Magnar brothers alone, Rowan could see by the look in Broden's eyes that they were in agreeance. Their king was a noble one, honorable to a fault.

But to try and convince Fallon Magnar to do something she did not want to do, meant that he was a bigger fool than he realized.

[Fallon]

She was shaking her head in disbelief, and defiance.

She would not go, she told herself. And him.

"No," she said, her words unyielding. "Do not do this to us."

She stepped away from him, pushing back from his warm hands. She had known the moment he stepped through the door that there was something plaguing him, but never did she believe he would be asking her to go. Not once had she considered that her miraculous return would also mean her departure.

"It is hard for me to stand here and say that I must do this, hard enough without you looking at me like that, Fallon," he whispered, stepping towards her and she took a step back. "Please, I need you to go to Skagos, I will sleep easier knowing you are home, and my brothers are safe."

"Perhaps you mean you will sleep easier with your wife in your bed," she said bitterly.

"Do you think I want this? That I wouldn't rather have you for my wife?" he asked, his voice raised. "I have to preserve our honor now, as best as I can. This is the only way I can do that."

"You think you are doing this for honor?" she spat, feeling the heat going to her face and the lump in her throat grow. "Where was your honor when you begged me to marry you? When I told you we could not be together in this life because of our duty?"

"You rejected me," he said, trying to raise his voice but she could hear it shaking as much as her own.

He did not want to do this.

"I will stay," she insisted again. "I will not go to Skagos and leave you this way," she told him, motioning towards him, a broken man. "Look at you."

"I am fine."

"You are miserable," she corrected. "I see it in your eyes every time-."

"Fallon-" he warned but she shook her head again, feeling the tears welling up. Irrationality was taking over.

"You can't look at me anymore, can you? Because of what I did. That's it isn't it? You can't look at me without thinking of my sins."

He grabbed her then, pulling her against him roughly as held back her tears. His hands were tight around her arms as he shook her once, fury in his blue eyes.

"Don't you dare," he whispered darkly. "Don't you ever say that to me again."

"If it is not that, then why send me away? Why bother when you know it was what neither of us wants. I just came back to you, fought my way through Stannis, is witch and that bloody Bolton bastard for you. You!"

"You need not remind me of what pain I have caused you," he said, ashamed. "I know what danger I have caused you, what misery lies behind your eyes." She was still shaking her head, realizing she would not win this fight. "I have made my decision and that decision was made out of love, for you. For what is best for you," He said softly, trying to stroke her face but she moved her cheek just as he touched her. "You cannot stay here, where it is dangerous, where I cannot protect you as I wish to. Where I-"

"I do not need protection, Robb. I need you."

"You need no one, Mo Ghra," he said with a sad smile, his lips trembling as wildly as hers. "But your people need you," he explained. "They need their Nighean."

"I can be the Nighean here, with the rest of my men."

"If you stay here, I cannot control what I might do. I will lose myself. I cannot dishonor my wedding vows. The law binds me to her."

"And the gods have already bound me to you," she countered. She was feeling desperate then. As determined as she felt, she could still see that Robb was not backing down. "I-" she stuttered. "I can stay, and be your mistress. The men would understand."

His expression changed then, and she thought for a moment he might consider it before his eyes darkened.

"No, Fallon."

"Why? Was it so hard to consider before? When you were to wed Kathryn?" she begged. "I know you considered it then."

"No, not even then could I have put you in such a position," he said, his voice hard and his tone hurt. "I wanted you for my wife. Hells, I still do! Yet, now I have another woman who I am forced to share my life with."

"So you will not have me?"

"I cannot make you my mistress," he said, annoyed. "You are worth more than that."

"If you will not have me as your mistress," she said, unable to control the tears as they began to fall. She could feel them slip, just as he was slipping away from her. "Then let me stay to command the vanguard, to do anything, I don't care what. I will not come between you and her. I will let you have her and she you. I will relinquish my hold on you, Your Grace, just please do not send me away."

Her voice fell at the end. It was like the ache had pulled itself from her heart and voiced itself for him to hear. She had sighed into her words, realizing, even as she said them that there was no hope.

She quit struggling against his hold and let her arms slowly wrap around him in defeat. She held him tight as she tried to succumb to his wishes. He stroked her hair, and as his fingers touched her neck and her face she could feel his palms shaking. She looked up into his eyes and saw that they were red and wet as hers. It was her fault he was this way. If only she had stayed dead to him, she thought. If only she had not come back.

"We both know that if you stay, I can never relinquish my hold on you," he whispered, his lips against her hair.

"All the more reason for me to stay," she whispered into his shoulder, which was now dampened by her tears.

"My heart is forever bound to yours, Fallon Magnar. And so long as you are here, in my life, I cannot give you up."

It was the truth for her as well. She knew, despite her begging and promises to keep her distance if she stayed here that it was all a lie. She could not watch Roslin share his bed and his smiles. She would not be able to control her longing glances or her touches as she'd yearn for him.

Was he really being so unreasonable? She thought.

"I do not know who I am, Mo Faol, without you," she said, gathering what composure she had left, ignoring the cracking in her voice.

"My love," he said with a sad smile. "You are the Nighean," he whispered, kissing her forehead and she could feel his tears on his lips. "You are the daughter of Skagos, the woman who they fight for. When you return, thousands of Skagosi will know what you have done, and they will love you more for it."

"I will not love another," she whispered defiantly.

"You will," he whispered, his voice shaking. "In time."

"No," she said again. "No matter how far away you send me, I will still love you. My soul will forever burn for yours. So send me away, Stark. Send me all the way to Skagos and try and forget me. I pray that you do. But do not think for a moment that I will stop this. Do not think that a day will go by where I won't be waiting for you."

"Fallon," he tried to say but it came out as strangled as her words must have sounded through her tears. But she did not let him finish.

She placed her lips against his, with all the strength she could muster in her weak body and she felt what they had been trying to avoid for nearly a year. It was all swelled inside of her, the aching and the pain all at once mixed together like a violent storm that pulsed through her veins. But it was finally here. The thing she had dreaded most of all.

Goodbye.

She had imagined what it would feel like, many times before. But never had she imagined this. She thought it would be easier, that she would be stronger in this moment and yet in reality she had never felt so weak. She could feel part of her, ripping at the seams, something deep within her that was no longer hers to own. It was his, and he ripped it from her, tearing something and leaving her to bleed helplessly in his arms as she cried, their tears mixed and their hearts trying desperately to cling to one another before she let go.

But the damage was done. These were their final moments and neither seemed to have anything to say. Fallon tried desperately to find some words to encourage them both, something that would lighten this moment but she could not think, let alone speak from the pain and dread rising within her. She could not say 'goodbye.' Never could she say goodbye to him. It was too final.

She kissed his neck with her salt-stained lips and felt as if it was impossible to pull away. She did not want it to end, did not want to walk away with the thought that she would never see him again.

"It hurts," she whispered, closing her eyes with her head against his chest.

"I know," he agreed.

She looked up at him one last time, craning her neck to see into his perfect blue eyes and saw the same brokenness that she now felt. She tried to memorize him. Tracing her fingertips over his short beard, the stubble that used to make her giggle with joy now only felt like a twinge through her heart. His lips, his smell, his auburn curls that she ran her fingers through. The memory of them would never be enough, she realized.

But she had no choice.

She then reached up to her hair and pulled her Magnar green ribbon from it, letting her dark hair fall over her shoulders and down her back. She could see her fingers shaking as she held it there and looked up at him as she placed it in his hand. He tried to protest but her mouth on his silenced him as she took in one last kiss before stepping away.

"You'll always have my favor, Your Grace," she whispered, curtseying deeply.

She did not say another word as she walked out, ignoring the feeling of his hand as he tried to reach out for her. She did not look over her shoulder to see him standing there for fear that she would change her mind and beg him once more. She did not stop until she had closed the door and walked out into the corridor and followed her feet.

She did not know how she was able to find her way as she sobbed in the darkness, her hands shaking with each step. She did not know, at first where she was going, so long as it took her far from the room where goodbyes still rang through the air.

Soon she found herself walking through the first door she could think of. There, she saw him standing with dark circles under his eyes and she did not care that he might have still hated her then. She did not care that he had not spoken to her in days. She just leapt into his arms and let everything go. She felt it all at once then. Every whisper every laugh that she had shared with Robb Stark was now ripping out of her and it was excruciating.

"I'm sorry, Rowan," she whispered to him. "I didn't know where else to go."

He stroked her hair then, squeezing her tightly as he kissed her forehead and she felt a slight relief under the ache. She did not know if she was referring to the tension between them, or for coming to him then. But he seemed to accept her either way.

"I know, Fal. I know," he said.

"Please don't hate me," she said then, looking up into his eyes and no longer saw anger, but she saw her best friend.

"I told you before," he told her sternly, cupping her face with his hand. "I could never hate you."

"He's making me go," she whispered, through her sobs and he nodded. "Are you staying because of me?"

"No," he replied, shaking his head. "Though perhaps my staying my work out best for you in time."

She didn't know what he meant by his words, and right then she was too miserable to think them through clearly. All she knew was that she was saying goodbye to two men she needed most in her life, two men who meant the most.

The two men she simply couldn't live without.

A/N: Don't hate me just yet. I know they were just reunited and now I'm splitting them apart. But I must beg you to read the final chapter which I am desperately trying to finish. The last chapter will be set two years in the future and then there will be an epilogue after that. Please review if you liked the chapter. I am so happy to have such incredible reviewers and readers. You all make this story possible. xoLola

2/7 Update - I have to add that I wrote 5,000 words of chapter 23 yesterday. You might actually get lucky and get another update this week...or maybe I should postpone it to torture you a bit more? Hehe

I also want to say I will be formally thanking you each for your amazing reviews in the final chapter (the epilogue) because I feel the need to recognize each and every person who contributed to this story with your lovely and inspiring reviews. YOU are all beyond amazing.