#originally this was going to include more of the aftermath like rhaegar's and the starks' reactions but i didn't like how it was turning out

[samwpmarleau]

I'm kinda dying for the fallout of the fic where Rhaenys elopes with Robb? Because it's like. Aegon V WISHES his kids' elopements happened with people with that level of political power.

Part 1

When Rhaenys first wakes, she is convinced the night before was a dream. A lovely dream, but a dream nonetheless. She’s bold, but she’s not that bold. Robb certainly isn’t that bold. And while she knows Ser Jaime would kill for her, die for her, would he really go against the king by bearing witness to her secret wedding? The whole thing seems unreal.

But as the vestiges of sleep leave her, she becomes aware of a dull soreness between her legs and a lack of any nightgown. Heart pounding, she glances over to her left and sucks in a gasp. She’s not the only person in her bed. Robb sleeps there soundly, devoid just as she is of any clothing, his auburn curls mussed and a placid expression on his face.

It wasn’t a dream. It all really happened. She is no longer merely Rhaenys, Princess of Dragonstone, but a lady of Winterfell.

Just as she’s marveling over the whole thing, a knock comes at her door, then her mother’s voice. “Rhaenys? You’re still abed at this hour? Are you feeling ill?”

“No, not ill!” Rhaenys calls back, hoping the panic she feels doesn’t reflect in her voice. “Just, ah…just give me a minute, Mother!”

Robb stirs at the noise, and when he registers her presence, he smiles. “Hello, wife.”

Clearly, he’d had no such doubts about whether the wedding had occurred or not.

“Shh! My mother’s right outside.”

She nudges him, intending to get him to hurry up and hide, but in his grogginess he doesn’t react in time—or perhaps her nudge was more of a shove—and gracelessly falls off the bed with a grunt.

“Rhae?” Mother asks in concern, letting herself into the room. “I heard a thud, are you—”

Her hand still on the door handle, Mother glances between Rhaenys and Robb in stunned confusion. Fortunately, Rhaenys had had just enough time to pull on a robe and when Robb fell the sheet came with him, concealing what needs to be concealed, but those are small mercies.

“I can explain.”

“I should hope so.” Mother looks at the two of them again, and replies sternly, “Get dressed. I’ll wait outside.”

As soon as the door shuts again, Rhaenys groans. “Gods, that is not the way I intended for this to go.”

Robb pulls on his breeches and shirt, appraising her with some wariness. “Do you regret what happened? We can’t exactly take it back.”

Rhaenys considers that. Her hand had been forced by Father’s overheard pronouncement, but her feelings have always been genuine. “No,” she answers, softening. “No, I don’t regret it. But we really should have thought about how we’d break the news before going through with it.”

“Your mother will understand.” He pauses. “…won’t she?”

“Not wanting to wed my brother? Absolutely. Wedding you in secret and discovering so by finding us just this side of naked? I can’t be sure.”

Rhaenys tugs one of her more simple dresses over her head, belatedly realizing she can’t reach all the fastenings herself. Before she can ask, Robb steps up behind her. “Let me.”

He methodically tugs the laces tight while she brushes a comb through her hair, and she tries to not relax under his touch. She’ll need to be sharp to have this conversation with Mother, not thinking about the warmth of Robb’s hands through the fabric of her dress.

“You’re good at this,” she remarks. “You’ve done it before?”

“Not with another maiden, if that’s what you’re thinking,” says Robb with a dash of disapproval. “Arya lamented the idea of having a servant or Septa Mordane help her with that sort of thing, so now and again she’d ask my help instead. I was less embarrassing for her, it would seem.”

“Well, I’m glad for that. This will be awkward enough without having to ask Mother to lace my gown, too.”

He finishes the laces with a final tug. “Now you’re perfect.”

“Hardly.”

She turns around and he looks so inviting with that untidy hair and his shirt not fully buttoned that she can’t help but kiss him. It’s certainly her right to do so now, but still it’s quite new and feels illicit. Robb Stark—Robb Stark!—is her husband. Their union has been witnessed and consummated. Now not even the High Septon himself would be able to break it. It’s not an easy concept to wrap her head around.

“I’ll see you,” she says, tossing a final glance over her shoulder before stepping throught the door and coming face to face with her very vexed mother, who right now has the expression of a queen more than a parent. Rhaenys has always withered under that look.

Mother leads her through the Red Keep into her solar, then rounds on her. “How could you be so irresponsible? Bedding the heir to Winterfell? Have you gone mad?”

“You always said you wouldn’t judge me if I had a dalliance,” Rhaenys replies haughtily, “and that I deserve a marriage of love.”

“Yes, but I—” Mother abruptly cuts herself off. “Did you say ‘marriage’?”

“Indeed, Mother, I did. Robb and I…we were wed last night, in the Northern style in the godswood, with Egg and Ser Jaime as witnesses.” She continues before Mother can reply, “Egg and I overheard your conversation with Father yesterday. I would never be able to stomach being wed to my brother, and couldn’t risk you not being able to sway Father on the matter. So I took it into my own hands. Now it doesn’t make any difference what Father wants or says—under the laws of men and the eyes of the gods, such a match is impossible.”

Mother is silent for a long while, digesting Rhaenys’s words. Then, “You really did all that?”

“Yes.”

“And the ceremony was to the letter?”

“Yes. Robb led us through it.”

She puts her hands on Rhaenys’s shoulders. “And you’re in love with that boy? Truly?”

Rhaenys smiles. “Yes.”

“You will lead me to an early grave, my darling,” Mother sighs. “Well, we may as well get this over with. No good will come of putting it off. Go fetch Robb and Egg, and I’ll find Ser Jaime. It’s time to tell your father.”