The next day had been quite an early morning for Robb. He had expected to wake up in the afternoon, seeing as how tired he was from fighting in the war for all those months. But, alas, he couldn't ask for too much from himself, his sleeping pattern had evidently changed.

When he was fully awake, he was unable to get up, feeling a heavy weight on his chest. He glanced down to see Elizabeth's head on his bare skin, and her arm wrapped around his torso. That gave him a minute. A minute to actually register Elizabeth's beauty, and her personality.

Granted, she was a Lannister, but he couldn't see that in her, he only saw the good. And maybe that was a flaw in Robb, but so be it. His hands stroked her long blonde hair, taking out every loose braid that he could.

"What am I doing?," he whispers to himself, retracting his hand and placing it on her shoulder before shaking her lightly.

She groaned, turning to the side slightly, rolling off Robb and then off the bed. There was a loud thump on the ground followed by a small groan. "Oh, God..."

"Are you alright?," Robb peered over the edge of the bed at her, smirking.

"I bet you're finding this very amusing," she grumbled, rubbing her eyes.

"More than anything," he bit his lip to stop the laugh that was threatening to come out of his mouth.

"Very funny," she saids as she got up and stretched, "So, Robb, what's the plan for today?"

"Plan?"

"Agenda? Schedule? Itinerary?," she says, getting up and taking an apple from the bowl before sinking her teeth in it.

"I have a long meeting with the council, don't expect me to join you for breakfast, but I will meet you for lunch," he yawns, slipping his boots on.

"Do you want me to call your sisters in for lunch as well?," she questions, slipping into her own boots.

"No," he shakes his head, "you and I are going for lunch together. My brother, Jon, thought it'd be a good idea."

"Jon Snow?," I raise my brow.

"Yes," he nods, "Why?"

"I'd love to meet him, I've heard about his bravery in the Night's Watch," her eyes gleamed.

There was a foreign feeling Robb had inside of him, a feeling of jealousy almost, but he gave her a weak smile and responded, "I'd love to take you to meet him soon."

When Rob went to his meeting, Elizabeth decided to explore. She walked through alleys, and through little hallways when she came across a small garden, with bleak green grass, with a man and a little girl.

"Hello," she smiled at them as she trotted down to them in some trousers and a clothed shirt.

"My Queen," the girl and the man knelt down.

"No need for that, here," she shook her head, noticing the sword in the girls hands, "You're Arya Stark, am I right?"

"Yes, your Grace," she smiled.

"Elizabeth, or Beth, is fine, love," the woman smiled at the little girl.

"Beth, this is my brother, Jon Snow," she points at him with her blade.

"You never point your blade at a man unless you intend on killing them," Elizabeth informs, using her index finger to put the blade down. "Lord Snow, it's a pleasure to meet you. I've heard a lot about you from your time in the Night's Watch."

"The pleasure's all mine, my lady," he kneels, taking her hand and placing a kiss on her knuckles.

"Beth is fine, Snow," she chuckles, helping him up, "Now, who's the best sword wielder here?"

"That's going to be Jon!," Arya chimes.

"Alright then, Jon Snow, I challenge you to a friendly battle," she whips out her sword.

"Can women wield weapons?," he laughs.

"This one can," she smirks.

The young woman was quick to pry the edged cutlass from her father's holster around her hip and whipped around to clash steel. She held the blade even, a perfect, undaunted horizon; always leveled with the nose, just as her father had taught her.

She had stalled Jon's strike, but watched a funny, playful grin split his lips as her blade shivered under the brutality of his compelling strength. "Weapons do not belong in the hands of women," he throatily crooned, pressing closer to her face. The blade flashed as she brought it over his head and hummed a low, swift tune when he brought it down.

Their swords gleamed in the cool sun light. Elizabeth knew that if this were real, only one would walk away from this. Her opponent's sword was stained with mud. She shuffled to the side and awaited in attack, and if it were real, possibly, inevitable death.

Jon charged with a mighty cry. She dodged to the side in one fluid move. Jon swiveled in her direction. His eyes were a blazing red and his dark hood made the rest of his features indistinguishable. Jon thrust his sword forward, only to be met by her sword. Both swords met in the air with a resounding 'clang'. She was a master swordsman.

She stuck the tip of her blade into the handle of Jon's sword, and then thrusting upwards, making the sword fly in the air and pierce the ground next to the owner. She pushed Jon to the ground and climbed on top of him, putting her sword to his throat and laughing.

"I guess you lost, Jon Snow," she laughed.

"I let you win," he panted, a low chuckle escaping his mouth.

"What's the meaning of this?," Robb's voice could be heard behind them.

Elizabeth sighed and got off Jon, dusting herself off, "Calm down, your Grace, we were just sparring."

"Come here," he demanded, then looked at everyone else, "Leave us."

As everyone walked away, she began to pack her sword back into its holster. She exhaled slowly as she walked towards Robb, who was fuming by the sight of his wife on top of another man, "What do you want, Robb?"

"I was here to take you to lunch, but it seems as though you were already pre-occupied," he mumbled.

"Look, why are you getting angry at me about having a sword fight with Jon when you don't even consider me as your wife?," she tilts her head sideways, "I mean, it's not as if any of us has any feelings for one another. You have that girl, what's her name? Talisa."

Robb's breath hitched, "Right..."

"Lunch?," she reminded him, walking in the direction of the venue.

"Lunch, right," he muttered, catching up to her.

They both sat awkwardly around the table in the courtyard, quietly munching on their food. Alex, the small lion cub sat wrapped around Elizabeth's feet, his quiet snores agitating Grey Wind to the point where he had to go lie on the other side of the wall.

"Tell me about yourself, my lady," Robb starts, wanting to know more about the woman who has yet to bare his children.

"What's there to tell that you don't already know?," she replies back, eyes fixated on her plate of food. Suddenly, a battle strategy comes to her mind, and she immediately snaps her fingers, making a tall boy come to her side. "Tony, write this."

"Yes, my Queen," he nods, taking out a strip of paper and an ink pen along with a glass pot full of ink.

"If the right hand makes contact with the jaw, distracting the enemy, thus, giving time to pierce the lower abdomen with their blade," she skitters, her hands moving with the words she's saying, "Or if that doesn't work, try: striking the side of the neck with the hand, causing a severing of a pressure point, leading to full unconsciousness."

"Right, my Queen," he bows, noting everything down.

Robb watches his lady attentively, very confused as to what she was doing. He let the boy leave before he said anything, "What was that?"

"I came up with a battle tactic to teach the soldiers, and thought I'd have it written down so I didn't forget," she replies, nonchalantly.

"That's...," Robb starts, making Elizabeth think he's about to say something snarky, "a very good idea."

"Thank you, your Grace," she smiles at him.

He glanced at her beautiful smile, being completely mesmerized by the dimples on her cheeks. "You have a beautiful smile, my lady."

She closes her eyes for a moment as she feels her cheeks heat up, "Flattery doesn't get far with me, Robb."

"Your cheeks tell me otherwise, my lady," he smirks, narrowing his eyes at her.

"Hush, you," she looks down, staring at her boots. "Dammit," she curses, noticing the dullness of her father's sword.

"Cussing isn't ladylike," he bites his smiling lip.

"Do I look ladylike?," she challenges, pointing to her sword and chainmail.

"I suppose you don't," he chuckles, taking a bite of his steak.

"Your Grace," a woman comes in, her face very happy. She had tanned skin and chocolate brown eyes, she was an exotic beauty.

"You must be Talisa," Elizabeth smiles, "I've heard a lot about you."

"Hopefully good, my Queen," she bows down.

"More good than bad," Elizabeth jokes, having a laugh with the woman that stole her husband's heart.

"Why are you here?," Robb smiles at her direction.

"I'm here to inform you that I shall be heading to my city for my mother's funeral," she says, a frown plastered on her face, "I'll be back in thirty days."

"Thirty days?," Robb furrows his eyebrows. "What am I to do till then?"

"Try to get to know your wife, your Grace," she bows down, placing a peck on his lips before walking off with a few guards.

Both Robb and Elizabeth weren't going to enjoy this.