Savages - LolaStark

Chapter Five

[Fallon]

"Four hundred years ago, Skagos was ruled by a High Lord who sought to bring peace among the tribes that ravaged the land. The High Lord and King of the Skagosi was called 'The Magnar,' which means 'lord' in the Old Tongue. He ruled the land and it's people, and rode into battle with his armies on the back of a large unicorn. He had a great warrior who, to every battle, rode by his side and protected him from a savage death. The warrior's name was Cynwrig, commonly known as Cynwrig the Brute because he was a mighty, brute of a man, one of the most honored Skagosi fighters that came to be."

Bran may not have heard the words Fallon spoke, but it was somewhat of a comfort for her and for Lady Stark, when she sat there telling the stories as the fire crackled in the corner. It was the second day since Bran's fall and Maester Luwin said the worst was over. All that had to do now was wait. Fallon wasn't sure if it was Lady Stark, or herself, that it comforted most, but either way, she welcomed the distraction.

"It was said that he fought with the strength of twenty men with a large, a thick sword as his weapon, a weapon still used by Skagosi warriors today. They sent him in the battle the day the barbarians came, the men who had sailed all the way from Bravos across The Shivering Sea. They ravaged the land, stealing the women and children for their slaves."

Fallon was stroking Bran's hair back as she spoke, trying rid herself of the image of her younger brother, so young and fragile just like the boy in front of her now. He was only three years older than Bran. He too had been fond of climbing until the incident several years prior. After that, she was sure to never allow him to climb again.

Every once in awhile she'd glance over to Lady Stark who was working intently on a prayer ring for Bran. But sometimes she catch her looking up, paying close attention to Fallon's words as she spoke the story she'd heard a thousand times.

"Fourty days had passed after the landing of the barbarians on the isle. Their sealord, Thasamund, realized for all the slaves he took, he was still losing the great battle against the Magnar and his army. They weren't strong enough for the mountainous terrain. So in order to defeat Cynwrig and the lord's men, Thasamund stole the Magnar's daughter, Senara. She was beautiful, and the most sought after maiden in the land. Cynwrig loved Senara and vowed one day to prove he was worthy of her hand. When Thasamund kidnapped her and planned to make her his wife, Cynwrig brought down a great wrath upon him and the sealords were defeated. To honor his bravery, the Magnar wed his daughter to Cynwrig and made him a Magnar of the Northern coasts."

She remembered the way Bran usually reacted to hers stories. He would get excited and smile and reenact the battles with Rickon out in the courtyards. Sometimes she would play one of the Skagosi maidens and wait up in the tall tower until Bran would come to rescue her, defeating Robb and Theon - who aways portrayed the barbarians - in order to do so.

But now he just lie there, helpless and silent. She tried to picture his laugh, the way his lips would curve up into a smile before he let loose a loud chuckle he'd been trying to hold back.

Summer was starting to breath slow and steady, signalling that he had long fallen asleep. Fallon watched his chest fill and then fall in rhythm with Bran's. For a long time she just watched them, listening to the breathing and the crackle of the fire and it dulled her thoughts. She was thankful for that. She wished more than anything she could find a way to dull those thoughts in the back of her mind for good. But they were still there, haunting her like the guilt that was welling up in the pit of her stomach every time she remembered that dark day near the cliffs.

"Fallon." The hoarse call of her name removed her from those thoughts and she looked up to see Lady Stark looking at her with weary eyes.

"Yes, My Lady," she replied, sitting up straight from her previous place bent over against the bed.

"I hear the men gathering the horses. Would you please find Lord Stark and send him up? I know he would like to say goodbye to Bran."

Fallon didn't waste time in standing and walking to Lady Stark's side. She placed her hand on the woman's shoulder and left it there for a long moment before she walked out the door. She was only halfway down the hall when she nearly ran right into Jon who was coming through the doors just as she was exiting. They both laughed as they held each other up from falling. She stood, looking up at Jon who was dressed and ready for travel all the way to the Wall. She remembered then that she wanted to talk to Benjen before he left. Perhaps to gain news of her father.

"So, is this to be our goodbye Snow?" she asked with a small smile.

"That it is," he replied as he pulled her into a weak embrace. She wanted to laugh as he hugged her awkwardly. Jon had always been a shy young man but she found it charming and she knew Enat did as well. She didn't call attention to his awkwardness. Only kissed his cheek softly and stepped back.

"This will be quite different without you here," she told him and he shrugged.

"I can't imagine anyone will miss me too terribly," he joked and she raised an eyebrow.

"I can think of several, one in particular, who will miss you a great deal," she reminded him and she couldn't tell if it was the cool air or the embarrassment that left a light pink tint, nearly undetectable, on his stubbled cheeks.

A moment passed between them where they laughed quietly and it died away into the silence of the corridor. They stood there for several moments and she could tell by the expression on his face what he was going to say next. She wished he wouldn't, she wished he hadn't been so attuned to the things going on around him. But he was. And he was going to say it.

"He's happy you're staying," he said quietly, and she looked around to see if anyone would overhear them.

"I'd be much more content if he was indifferent to my staying," she tried to joke but Jon didn't laugh.

"I know what you're trying to do Fallon," he whispered. "Whatever you might think about my brother, I can assure you, he's stubborn. He fights for the things he wants," Jon told her and she grinned.

"I guess Robb will just have to find someone else to fight for," she told him and he laughed.

"Robb?" he joked. "I was talking about Bran."

She knew he'd caught her then, knowing exactly what was going on between Robb and Fallon, even if Fallon didn't know it herself. But she wasn't about to give up on her promise. She would do what she had to in order to make this place her home. Even if that meant breaking his heart.

She looked at Jon for a few more moments, memorizing his light eyes and she hugged him tightly. This time the hug was returned and they both said goodbye without words. She looked at him once before nodded curtly and walking away, leaving him to say goodbye to Bran which would be awkward enough with Lady Stark there. She didn't want to interfere with that.

She passed down the northern corridor until she reached the round staircase and walked out into the courtyard by the North Gate. The men were still packing up the horses, the King's family was waiting around anxiously to depart. The Queen was tapping her nails against the carriage with Myrcella and Tommen ran around the courtyard. Joffrey kicked at a few rocks on the ground as he sighed impatiently.

She spotted Arya, holding her medium-sized trunk uneasily as she walked it over to the carriage. Fallon laughed as she reached for it and helped the girl lift it onto the back. When it was securely in place, Arya looked up at Fallon with a sad smile and hugged her around her waist. Fallon put her arms around Arya, returning the sentiment. She then looked up at Fallon with a solemn expression.

"I wish you were coming," she said and Fallon smiled.

"What use would I be?" Fallon replied, moving Arya's braid from her shoulder. "You'll be having too much fun to be thinking of me. And who else can keep your brothers in line?"

"Sansa will drive me crazy," she replied and Fallon felt a laugh rise out of her throat a bit louder than she'd expected. A few faces turned, including one with dark russet hair and blue eyes. She looked away quickly. "And who will tell me stories about the North now? You know all the good ones. Old Nan won't let me hear the scary ones. She thinks they will frighten me."

"Your father knows all about the North, I assure you," Fallon said but Arya didn't seem satisfied. It was then that Lord Stark walked over with a grin on his face.

"But I don't know all the stories of Skagos," he told them.

"Well, I suppose I'll just have to write them to you while you're away, will that please you?" she asked and Arya nodded. Fallon knelt down so she was eye to eye with her, even though the two weren't very far off in size. "You remember what I taught you?" she asked and Arya smiled. "Protect your father, he'll need your help where he's going." Arya hugged her once more before running back towards her brother and Fallon looked up to see the man who towered over her.

"You sure you don't want to come?" he asked.

"I'm sure I'd just be in the way, My Lord," she replied with a grin and then quickly tried to redirect the conversation. "My Lady Stark was looking for you, thought you might want to leave some parting words with Bran." He nodded, his smile fading somewhat. He grabbed her hand in both of his.

"I am happy you came to us Fallon," he told her and she nodded. Not sure how to respond. "You've been a welcomed addition to this family and your acceptance - it means much."

"Lord Stark, I am forever grateful to your kindness. I came here with more prejudice than I care to admit. I am happy to say that I think of home less and less when I am here."

He stared at her for several moments, looking as if he was gaining the courage to decide on something that he was battling in his mind. And then he squeezed her hand lightly.

"Fallon, when I return next, I will take you home," he said and her eyes snapped from his hands to his eyes and she felt her throat tighten. Home. It was a word she'd given up on. "I will bring you to Skagos myself to see this land you speak so highly of."

"But My Lord," she said quickly. "My father's debts-"

"Do not need to be paid by his daughter. I cannot keep you from your life Fallon. If it is your home you want, I cannot deny you that. I have come to see that now. You deserve a life of your own choosing."

"I'm not sure what to say," she whispered and he grinned.

"Fallon Magnar, without something to say? Surely it cannot be."

"I just don't think 'thank you' could suffice," she replied, trying to ignore the ache in her throat as she tried not to show her tears of joy.

"You could thank me me by taking care of Catelyn, keep her mind off Bran. Rickon will need someone to distract him, you're good at that. And of course Robb. He's got a lot of responsibility ahead of him. He'll someone to support him. I know it somewhat contradicts what we've said, but I fear the alternative. Cat may not play that role if Bran does not get better soon. Robb strives to succeed and craves that support system I will no longer be able to provide."

"I'll see to it," she said finally and he embraced her then, like he would a member of his own family. It was nice, the feeling. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen her own father, felt his embrace. It had been nearly a year. This man wasn't her father, but she considered Ned Stark a part of her life now, just as she did for the rest of them.

"Farewell, Lady Magnar," he said and Fallon watched as he entered the castle.

She stood there alone, not sure exactly where she should go next as she looked around her. She was surrounded by people busying themselves for the journey. Cersei and Jaime Lannister were whispering to one another and Fallon grew suspicious of their behavior since the incident. They'd been curiously lucky to find Bran, together looking disheveled and indifferent to the situation. She wasn't sure what it was about the two of them, but something was amiss.

"Did you come from Bran's bedside?" a voice asked and she heard Robb's footsteps before he even spoke. She glanced away from Cersei who was now looking up at her curiously and to Robb who was standing with Kathryn at his side.

"Yes," she responded and Kathryn rolled her eyes.

"Yes, My Lord," she corrected and Fallon narrowed her eyes at the younger girl. Robb said and looked apologetically at Fallon who simply ignored the girl's rudeness.

"Fallon doesn't have to call me that. She's not a servant."

"She's not one of us either," Kathryn ground out and Fallon refused to listen to them bicker.

"Bran was just listening to one of my stories," Fallon interrupted. "The one about the warrior Cynwrig. He likes that one, especially when I recount the battle with Thasamund. It won't be long now before he's reenacting it himself. No doubt he'll need you to play the barbarian."

"Maester Luwin says if he'd been meant to die, he'd have done it already. The worst is over," Robb added and Fallon nodded.

It was the first time they'd spoke since Bran's fall, and more importantly, since she'd gone against her promise and kissed him. She still wasn't sure what made her do it. The grief in his eyes perhaps, or the grief in her own. Whatever the reason, it had made some of their initial tension return and she hated that they couldn't speak freely. Especially not with Kathryn standing there looking at Fallon as if she were about to snatch Robb right out of the younger girl's fingertips. Said fingertips were clenched tightly around his arm with no evidence they would detach themselves any time soon.

"I should go," she said finally and Kathryn smiled at the idea. "I want to speak with your uncle before he departs for The Wall."

"He's by the stables," Kathryn said to hurry her along.

Fallon knew how to take a hint. She knew when she was unwanted. But she also knew that Kathryn was being possessive. That meant she was threatened. Fallon wanted nothing to do with Robb, not in the way Kathryn thought at least. And yet she didn't feel inclined to do as the girl said just because she was to be the Lady of Winterfell long after Fallon had departed.

"Would you like to accompany me?" she found herself asking as she looked at the girl who looked back at her in confusion.

"I've promised I'd visit Bran with Robb," she replied tactfully and Fallon glanced down at Kathryn's fingers as they tightened once again around Robb's arm.

"Very well," Fallon replied and performed her best curtsey to mock Kathryn's earlier corrections.

"My Lord...Lady Ashford," she said dramatically, trying with difficulty not to laugh as she walked away, wishing she could turn back to see Kathryn's expression.

Though Fallon had no issues imagining it over and over again until she disappeared around the corner and left the two staring after her.

[Kathryn]

Life was back to the same boring routine after the caravan left. She would have given anything to be in the carriage with Sansa and Arya, traveling south towards her home in the Reach. But instead she was stuck here, sitting in the Great Hall with Robb and Theon Greyjoy who were talking about the hunt continuously.

Robb was a handsome man, only a few years her senior which made her happy enough. But he was a Northerner and there was just something about Northerners that was off-putting to Kathryn. He liked adventure and excitement, whereas Kathryn preferred to talk about the court at King's Landing and order new fabrics for the wedding.

It would be a while before they were wed, she'd heard. With Lord Stark performing his duties as Hand of the King and Bran's injury, they would have to postpone the event until things settled down. It would be months before Lord Stark would return to Winterfell and therefore months before she could be seen as a lady of the house.

Even so, she'd already started training the staff. They knew what to call her, what to serve her at supper and when she liked to perform her everyday activities. The servants were relatively kind enough, understanding her unfortunate circumstances and homesickness. They often tended to her, Robb's men would bring her Northern flowers they would find off in the forest during their hunts.

But it was Robb's attention she was having trouble keeping.

She had only had this same difficulty with one other man, Loras Tyrell back in the Reach. He had visited her many times at Ashford but as hard as Kathryn would try, Loras would never give her the time of day. She assumed he was just playing coy. He was from a highborn house after all, the most noble house in all of the Reach. But House Ashford would have made a good alliance in her opinion. Which was why she found it so devastating when her father had betrothed her to Robb Stark.

Even now she wrote her letters to Loras and found his responses rather lacking for her adolescent desires. She wanted romance and passion. Loras was by far the most handsome man in all of Westeros and she had been compared to the most beautiful ladies of all time. And yet he never wrote about her beauty, only about tournaments in the South and how fond his sister was of her.

In the North her desires were even less noticed. Here everyone knew that Robb Stark only had eyes for Fallon Magnar. And it made her look like a joke.

It was frustrating beyond belief. Even as he talked with Theon she saw him perk up at the mention of the dark-haired savage who had been skipping many of her embroidery lessons to practice shooting a bow with the Greyjoy swine. She'd have preferred it that way honestly. Kathryn didn't find herself very comfortable in the presence of a Skagg and having her spend more time with Theon meant less time under Robb's careful watch.

It was something they could both agree on.

While Robb spent all his time, besotted with the girl, she didn't seem to return his glances or smiles from across the room. On the rare occasion that Fallon and Robb did spend time together however, Kathryn found it to be appropriate. Fallon didn't flirt with him, didn't touch him casually. In fact the only time she'd seen the two make contact in the last month was when Fallon had slipped as she climbed up a tree and Robb was right there to catch her fall.

Kathryn rolled her eyes at the thought.

If he'd spent as much time courting her as he did Fallon, she might have a sense of how to control her future husband better. But she didn't. She had no clue. She'd tried flirting and even a couple kisses here and there but nothing seemed to pull his longing glances in her direction.

Kathryn watched as Fallon's maid, the girl with the auburn hair walked over to the table where a plate lie full and untouched, most likely cold by now. She lifted it and Katryn placed her hand over the girl's arm to lower it.

"Where are you taking that?" she asked, insulted that a servant would come in while the family was still eating and presume she could take her meal then as well.

"It's for milday," the girl said, her eyes locked with Kathryn's, much to latter's surprise.

"For Lady Stark?" she asked and the girl shook her head.

"For my Lady Fallon," she said defiantly, even though Kathryn recalled several times where she'd corrected the girl's use of Fallon's former title.

"Is she unwell?" Robb asked then and Kathryn sighed audibly, causing all three of the others to look at her in confusion.

"Milady is a bit tired is all, My Lord. She was up last night with Lord Brandon. She hasn't slept a full night since the incident. She asked that I send her regrets for not being able to attend this evening's meal." Robb stood then and took the plate from Enat and placed it on the table.

"Enat, go and rest, you look as though you have not gotten a full night's rest in some time either," he told her and she looked at him momentarily before nodding and heading out towards the servant wing of the castle. "I will take care of your lady's meal."

"Robb, what are you doing?" Kathryn asked as Robb assembled several pieces of food from the table and placing it on a new plate.

"Bringing food up to Fallon and my mother. I won't have the women of Winterfell starving themselves in grief," he joked and Kathryn frowned as he referenced Fallon as a 'woman of Winterfell.' She looked down at her own plate, food barely touched because she couldn't stand having lamb for the fourth night in a row.

"Certainly her maid could have..." she started but Robb gave her a look that caused her to halt her words. He didn't look at her again as he walked out, leaving her there with Theon failing at keeping a laugh hidden away behind his smirk. "And what, may I ask, is so funny?" she asked sourly.

"Just couldn't help but notice milady that you're trying too hard," Theon said and her eyes widened. "Pardoning my boldness of course."

"That is quite bold of you to say so," she said with a frown and turn her head away as he ate. The minstrels were still playing her favorite song but it didn't drown out the sound of Theon's chewing which made her cringe. But as she sat there, she found herself more and more curious as she thought of his words and then turned back to him.

"And why would you say that anyways?"

"What? That you're trying too hard?" he asked and she nodded curtly. "Well for one, you hardly ever leave his side. Robb likes his space. And you spend a great deal of time questioning the things he does."

"I just don't see his fascination with..." she paused. A lady should never divulge secrets about a man to his friend.

"You don't see why he takes so well to Lady Fallon?" he asked, already knowing the answer as he grinned.

"It's just Fallon, why do you people have so much trouble remembering that?!" she asked, her fists balling up and Theon laughed.

"No one's forgotten milady," he said, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. Kathryn's lips pursed under her nose in disgust. "We call her that, because that's what she is."

"Hardly," she said rolling her eyes.

"He likes her because she's kind, because she's intriguing."

"I'm intriguing," she argued and he snorted.

"Compared to Fallon, you're still a naive child in Robb's eyes," he said before standing and leaving her there, sitting alone as the minstrel strummed the tune. But she couldn't hear it. All she could hear were the words Theon had just left with her. She mulled over them for the next hour until her maids came down to find her, her hand clenched around her goblet and the room spinning from its contents.

Theon had humiliated her and had anyone else been around to see it, she'd have made him eat his words.

But perhaps she could save that for another time.

[Robb]

The lights had long faded from the sky and the corridors were left with the bright flames of torches burning on their walls. Robb had already visited his mother, unable to comfort her with more than a smile and a small kiss on the forehead. She had barely looked up from Bran's frail form as she squeezed his hand feebly and went back to her prayers.

Now he was climbing the steps of Library Tower where Fallon's room was located. She had moved there a few weeks after her arrival to Winterfell, his father seeing her fondness for books and thought she might want the old room that had once belonged to Lyanna Stark, with a window that looked out over the moors. Fallon spent a great deal of time lost in that mind of hers, looking out accross the horizon as if she could see Skagos from there.

He knocked lightly at the door when he reached it and heard a tired voice tell him to enter. He held the covered plate tightly in one hand as he opened the door with the other and then nearly dropped it as he entered and saw her there, hot steam rising around her as she sat in the small bath by the window.

"Oh! Apologies, I didn't..." he stuttered, turning away as he saw her eyes widen, but not before his eyes had taken in much more of her than he'd imagined.

"It's alright," she said, her voice nearly hoarse. He started towards the door but heard her call out. "Wait," she said quietly. "Don't go, I thought...Enat said she'd be back. I wouldn't have sent you in with me like this had I known." Robb was still facing the door but could hear the sound of the water as she moved in it.

"She was bringing you food but I insisted she rest," he said. "I have barely seen you in the last few days. I wanted to be sure you were alright."

"Will you hand me my robe?" she asked and Robb felt his chest leap at her voice, her words even and he searched around for the garment she spoke of. "It's near the vanity there, by the fire."

He spotted it then, the thin garment hardly enough to keep anyone warm, but he recognized it as the one she'd worn the morning her family rode back to Skagos. He set down the plate and then pulled the garment gently, feeling the soft fabric between his fingertips.

"Shall I put it on to hide my shame?" he joked and her familiar laugh filled the air.

"Just stand right there. Keep those eyes of yours averted - Ser," she said and he heard the sound of her climbing out of the tub, her wet footsteps then walking closer and closer until he felt the fabric tug. There was a brief moment when he felt the warmth of her wet hand graze his thumb before the fabric was then out of his hand completely. "And you should not be ashamed, Stark," she told him. "You didn't see anything and I doubt you came in here purposely seeking to find me in such a state."

"I can assure you that was not my intent," he said with an amused tone to match hers.

"Perhaps I should coordinate secret knocks with Enat as not to repeat the mistake again," she teased and Robb felt the laughter rising as his embarrassment fell. "You can turn around now,m My Lord," she whispered and he turned to find her standing behind a partition as she pulled the robe off and hung it over the top and started sliding on a nightgown.

He could only see the top of her neck and up, her hair long and wet, most likely smelling of winter roses as he gathered from the lingering scent in the room. The robe was now soaked as it hung over the partition and he tried to refrain from imagining it stuck to her wet skin.

It was only moments later that she pulled another robe around her nightgown, one that was dry and she tied it around her waist so that she was appropriately attired for male company. She smiled as she sat down in one of the large chairs by the fire where Robb had placed her plate to warm.

"I could have saved you the trouble. I am not all that hungry," she said, motioning for him to sit in the chair near her. The fire was comforting, especially on this particularly cool night and he felt his body thank him as it soaked in the warmth.

"You've been absent from many dinners this week," he reminded her but by her expression, she was very aware he was planning to say this.

"My appetite is not as it should be. I've spoken to Maester Luwin and he's given me a potion to help it return. I will take it after I see to Bran tonight," she said and Robb shook his head.

"You'll not go spend all hours with Bran telling him stories until you can barely speak," he told her gently and she looked at him for a long moment before grinning.

"Since when did you become my master?" she teased.

"Since I became Lord of Winterfell," he joked back. "And if I'm to make sure my ward is healthy and happy, I'll have to forbid her from late nights at a boy's bedside. You need your rest just like everyone else. He'll forgive you for not being there every second of the day like my mother. Some times even Bran needs his own privacy."

"She's only trying to do what she thinks is best," she told him.

Robb knew she was right, knew that Fallon too wanted to help his mother through this tough time. But he didn't like the thought of either of them dwindling down to nothingness while they did it. He knew his mother's sorrow, but Fallon's was the most confusing of all. She had cared for Bran, he knew that much. But the fall had caused a particular stir inside of her. Her reaction after Bran was lifted off into the castle after the incident caused a stir in him as well. Several in fact.

He thought of that moment beneath the ancient weirwood and he couldn't help but remember how right it had felt to hold her in his arms. Even now, as he looked at the water from her hair trickle down her neck he wanted to feel her body against his once more. To comfort her as she had comforted him.

To feel her lips.

"Enat said you had trouble sleeping," he said, trying to shake his mind from the thoughts of her pink lips that were rounded at the bottom and fit perfectly against his. He tried to ignore the way she licked them lightly after she sipped from her goblet and looked up at him.

"She shouldn't say such things. They can be misinterpreted as..."

"...As something being wrong?" he supplied and her lips curved up into a small smile.

"Yes exactly what I was going to say," she informed him, tucking her knees up under her chin as she wrapped her arms around them and stared into the flames.

"I know something is bothering you, I saw it in your eyes when I walked in...I see it now." Her eyes were the color of warm emeralds as they flashed towards him and her smile grew.

"And here I thought you'd seen nothing when you walked in." She was good at evading the subject, but even Robb was better and leading her back to what she'd desperately tried to ignore.

"Fallon. Please tell me what is wrong," he asked and she sighed, defeated. She didn't seem willing to put up a fight once she could see that Robb wasn't willing to back down from his questioning.

"I have dreams, often times they're memories from home. Horrible memories," she explained and he watched her expression carefully. "Shall I tell you the story Stark?" she asked in a whisper and he felt himself sink into her watchful gaze as their eyes locked.

"Please," he whispered in return and she cleared her sore throat for what began her story.

"There was a girl once, who lived in a treacherous land of rugged terrain. The mountains reached far above her and the cliffs overlooked the valleys far below her no matter where she stood on the large island. She found peace in her surroundings, the whispering wind spilling secrets in the night as they rushed across the moors. Her favorite were the adventures, the kinds where a journey would be full of action and excitement," she said easily as if she'd spoken this story a thousand times before. But at the same time, the words were novel as they came from her lips and he could tell that Fallon had not shared this story in quite some time.

"What was her name?" he asked and she looked away.

"She was the Nighean of the Magnar," she whispered, the word 'nighean she'd used before in several of her stories to Bran. It meant 'daughter' in the Old Tongue and more importantly, she used it to refer to herself. "The Nighean could ride horseback from her younger years and would ride out with her older brothers across the island towards the tall cliffs of the sealine. She was still very much a child, perhaps only twelve years passed her first name day when the incident occurred." Robb's brow furrowed but he knew better than to interrupt. "The brothers of the Nighean climbed up the cliffside, racing to the top where they would plunge themselves deep into the cold ocean waters. They had raced time and time again, always the same, the eldest brother dominating the other two."

"Broden was strong?" he asked, thinking of Fallon's eldest brother he had yet to meet. Rowan seemed like strong enough a man, he couldn't imagine anyone with more power. But here she said Broden was the winner, Broden who was now Lord of Kingshouse, the Magnar of the Skagosi warriors.

"Not Broden,"she whispered hoarsely as she looked from Robb's eyes to the fire. He watched the flames dance across her eyes as liquid pooled beneath them. "K..." she paused as the word caught in her throat. "Keeran," she said with some difficulty. "The Nighean had an eldest brother then, Keeran the future Magnar. He was just like his father in every aspect."

"What happened?"

"Keeran always won the races to the top of the cliffs, leaving Broden and Rowan far behind to watch their elder brother laugh as he'd dive into the sea," she said, wiping her eyes. "But one day, Keeran had been showing off, a girl from the village had come to watch as the brothers Magnar raced up the side of the cliff, all the townsboys and warriors challenging Keeran to the fastest climb. The village girl was beautiful, long dark hair and eyes like sunshine over the cloudless sea. It would be a glorious win, he said. The Magnar even came to watch, he'd be proud when he son proved himself a real Magnar once again."

"Did he win?" he asked, thought he wasn't sure why. Fallon's words, told the story but her eyes gave him the answer from the very beginning.

"Yes," she said, her voice cracking slightly. "He reached the top before all the others. This angered one of the warriors. Keeran was young, only eighteen and the man was nearly thirty. He wanted to prove himself to be worthy. But he never beat Keeran as hard as he tried. So that day, he pretended to slip, lost his footing or some nonsense he'd said. Keeran reached over to help him, grabbed his wrist and began pulling up as hard as he could to pull the man from falling so far to his death. But the man didn't want his help. He simply pulled with all of hisstrength and Keeran was the one falling. I watched," she said and Robb noticed it was the first time she'd referred to herself instead of 'the nighean.' "I watched as Keeran fell down towards me and I was helpless to stop him."

"Fallon," he said, realizing then what plagued her mind.

"I watched him fall Stark, I watch Keeran fall and unlike your brother he did not live to see another day."

They sat in silence for moments before Robb reached his hand over and placed it on hers. She stared at the hand and he stared at her gaze, curious to see what she'd do when he squeezed her fingertips in between his palms. But she didn't seem to react, only stayed there as she held back tears behind her tired eyes.

"Keeran never heard me," she whispered. "He never once heard my voice as I called out for him, held his lifeless body in my arms when my father tried to pull me away. When I saw Bran..."

"What happened to Keeran, can't be undone. But Bran will get through this. You help him every day by staying at his side. We're all grateful that you care so much about him," he explained but Fallon's eyes were still on his hand, over hers.

"It is my brother's memory that has made me this way."

"Is that why you've been avoiding me?" he asked, knowing full well that it had nothing to do with her distance. She shook her head and pulled her hand into her lap, finally looking up. "Or is it what happened that day, in the godswood?"

"My distance is caused by my desire to remain a good friend," she told him strangely and he frowned at the sound.

"A friend who barely speaks to said friend?" he asked and she shook her head.

"A friend who knows when her distance is more appropriate that perhaps a shoulder to lean on..."

"Or lips..." he suggested and he saw a flash of pink on her cheeks for only a moment before she placed her hand over one in an attempt to hide it.

"As a friend, Stark," she said, looking up into his eyes as he sat in front of her. "I am telling you that your efforts, while very flattering, would be better suited elsewhere." It was like a hammer to the gut. The words, so indifferent, so blunt as the left her lips. So unlike the Fallon he had grown to know over the last few months.

"I guess I should be embarrassed by my behavior then," he said and she shook her head.

"Don not be embarrassed by your passion. Just redirect it. Kathryn is the one who deserves your glances your sweet words….your kisses."

"You shower me with compliments and yet scorn my attentions in the same breath," he said, unable to hide his embarrassment. He tried to hide it, but the more she spoke, the more he felt the need to describe how her words burned him like embers to the flesh.

"No," she said quickly, reaching for his hand. "I would never seek to scorn you. I just-"

"What do you see in me that is so undesirable that you cannot even seem to stomach the idea?" he asked and she sighed heavily. "Can't you see my feelings for you have grown. You have become more than a friend to me Fallon. I feel things that, perhaps, I ought not feel. I don't know what they are, but I know they push me towards you."

He stood and pulled her to her feet as well and he looked down at her, cupping her neck as she struggled, as usual, to stare up at him. Her nightgown had fallen slightly, exposing the soft flesh of her neck that glowed warm in the firelight. His thumb grazed over it and he watched as her eyes closed at the contact.

He placed his lips near her ear as he breathed, listening to her intake and outtake, matching her heaving chest as they stood so intimately close. He could take her in his arms if he wanted He could hold her and tell her that it was her that caused his heart to beat so uncontrollably. But he wouldn't, he'd refrain until he could no longer control himself anymore.

"Tell me you don't feel it too?" he whispered and watched the gooseflesh appear on her skin as his breath hit her ear. She caught her breath after a few seconds passed and she looked up into his eyes, searching them as if to find the answer he wanted most to hear. But the answer he wanted, was the truth. He wanted to hear the truth from her lips whether good or bad, whether she felt the spark between them or not.

"Stark..." she whispered. "I did things, said things I'm not proud of, gave you an impression that I have a heart that is free to give but I do not. I am a soulless being, forever wandering in sorrow because I can never have what you so desperately seek from me," she said with downcast eyes.

"I don't understand," he said and she shook her head.

"Of course not. You look at me and you think I could possibly make you happy, give you what you desire?" her voice was a raised whisper now, heated by a fire now within her as she spoke. "I can't give you those things."

"And why not? What prevents you from finding happiness in the idea of a future here by my side."

"And what future is that, Stark? You yourself don't even know how to define the feelings you claim to have, that I supposedly inspire in you and yet you are ready to drop your duty for them? You are Lord of Winterfell and with that comes responsibilities. If you gave Kathryn half the time of day you give me..."

"I know my duties," he said solidly. "I know what I am to become, who she is to become."

"And yet you ask me to look at a future by your side. As what? Your mistress?"

Robb cringed at the word. He couldn't imagine Fallon ever degrading herself to such a position nor would he ever ask her to. He didn't want to have her in some shameful relationship that would be forever looked down upon. He wanted to have her for his own, only he didn't know how he could do that. But none of that mattered if she wasn't interested in having him.

"So, you won't have me?" he asked her.

"You are not free for me to have. And my heart is no more free than yours." His thoughts halted at her words. 'no more free than yours' she'd said. His heart was somewhere, unknown to him. He didn't know what love was, or how it different from lust. He only knew that it swelled every time she looked at him with those bright eyes of hers. But her heart...if it was not free to give, where was it locked away?

"You are not betrothed," he said as more of a statement than anything and she shook her head.

"But that does not mean my heart does not belong to another," she said, not meeting his gaze. It was enough to crush his hopes then and the feeling was then replaced by an uglier one he had temporarily forgotten the name of.

"Who?" he asked, images and faces flying through his mind. He thought of her smiles and laughs, directed to others, to men who looked at her the way he did. Had he really been so blind. Had Fallon found someone to love whilst here. "Who?" he asked again and this time her eyes met his.

"He was my father's man, now my brother's. Someone I have loved since I was a girl," she struggled to whisper and the face was then clear. The memory was now fresh in his mind as the image of the man's lips on Fallon's forehead, the intimate touching of their hands, her tears as he rode away.

"Aedan," he supplied and Fallon's eyes were now the ones who looked ashamed as she shook her head, tears falling freely. She stepped back from him.

"Please don't," she whispered. "Don't speak his name.," she told him and his brow furrowed in confusion. "I intended to marry him. But before we could make our intent known, my father wed my elder sister to him. There was nothing we could do."

"You mean..."

"Yes, he and I can never be together in this life. He is my sister's husband now," she admitted and he shook his head. His anger suddenly drained from his chest as he saw the sorrow in her eyes and he pulled her against his chest.

Her hair was wet against his tunic, but he didn't mind. He just listened to her words over and over in his mind and he could now understand the knife that was ripping through her heart. He could understand that feeling of..something special being ripped away, out of his own control.

He knew that no matter what he felt or what it became, that it seemed that he and Fallon, no matter how time passed, could ever be together.

Not in this life. And certainly not with her heart belonging to another.