Rob II

"Lord Frey is asking for Robb to take one of his daughters to wife. One of his bannermen and my son will also take a squire." Lady Catelyn said, addressing Robb's council.

"Is that all he wanted?" Lord Glover asked.

Robb's mother sighed. "My daughter Arya shall also wed one of his sons and two wards shall be sent to Winterfell to be with my son Brandon," she added.

Robb frowned. "I said that I alone would answer Lord Frey's demands," he said, trying to keep his annoyance out of his voice. "I did not agree to give up my sister or fill my home with Frey's."

Catelyn grimaced. "Those were his demands, my lord. There was no changing the man's mind."

Robb shook his head. "My lords, I would have your thoughts."

"I say fuck him." the Greatjon spat. "If he wants to take advantage of us, I say fuck the old man."

"Must we deal with this again?" Galbart Glover said gruffly. "We need the damn bridge if we are to deal with the Kingslayer."

Robb growled. "My lords, I will take one of the man's daughters, and as my sister is still trapped in King's Landing, there is still time to change the man's mind on giving her hand away. All I can ask of you is this: who here is willing to take on a squire?"

"I will, my lord."

All eyes turned to Ser Rodrik, who had stepped forward from his place in the corner of the room. He nodded strongly to Robb and his mother.

"I will take on a squire if it helps, my lord."

Lady Catelyn was beaming at the elderly knight, while Robb just smiled at him. He nodded. "Thank you, Ser Rodrik. I accept your offer. I have no doubt the boy will learn much under your tutelage."

The other members of the council voiced their agreement as well. Rodrik Cassel had been a sworn sword to the Stark's for generations, and the old knight had proved his mettle time and time again. It also made sense that, since he was an anointed knight, he should take on a squire.

"Mother, please make sure a message is sent to the Twins letting Lord Frey know that I accept his deal," Robb said. "We will be marching out on the morrow, my lords, and we must be ready to deal with the Kingslayer."

"We will be hard-pressed fighting the Kingslayer with his father lurking at Harrenhal." Lord Hawker pointed out. "Tywin will not allow his son to be attacked so boldly. He will sniff out our plan if we march our entire host west to Riverrun."

Robb nodded, the gears in his mind already working. "Quite right, my lord," he said. "We must keep the Old Lion distracted while we strike quickly at his son."

"What would you have us do?" Lord Karstark asked.

Robb frowned thoughtfully. "two thousand footmen will march south and bring Tywin out of position," he said, thinking through his words while speaking.

"Tywin will not be easily tempted by two thousand men." Mormont pointed out.

Robb now smiled mischievously. "He will if they are bearing banners and banging on drums. We will make them look like the entire northern host marching on Harrenhal."

Now, most of the council was sharing a fierce grin as they realized what Robb was planning.

"Who would lead such a force?" Lord Glover asked.

Robb looked over his council. They were all great warriors, but he needed a thinker, a strategist who could think quickly and adapt well. That narrowed his choices down to two men: Roland Hawker and Roose Bolton. Hawker was a good strategist, better than most might give him credit for, but Robb needed a man who was cunning, and the Lord of Eagle's Roost wasn't cunning.

Bolton, on the other hand, was.

"Lord Bolton," Robb said. "You will lead the infantry host south."

Roose did not smile or boast, but simply nodded. "It will be done," he said in his usual whisper-tone.

Robb nodded, tapping his finger on the table as he thought over his plan. As far as he could see, he was missing nothing. "That will be all for today, my lords. We march out in the morning. The cavalry will ride ahead. We will strike at the Kingslayer's camp and give him no time to prepare. The infantry will march behind under Lord Glover's command."

Lady Catelyn leaned towards Robb. "Lord Frey has asked that you come in the morning to choose your new wife."

Robb nodded. "I'll be there," he promised before turning back to his lords. "That will be all, my lords. Make sure the men are ready."

The other commanders nodded and filed out, leaving Robb and his mother behind. When they were all gone, Robb turned on his mother, frowning.

"Mother, I do not agree with Arya being married off," he said angrily. "I was the only one who was supposed to answer the Frey's demands."

Catelyn shook her head. "I am sorry, my son, but the demands are not as bad as they seem. We could have lost Bran and Rickon as well."

Robb sighed, running a hand through his curls. He wanted to be angry with his mother, but he couldn't. He knew that she was doing what she thought best, and besides, he needed the Frey bridge for his army.

"Send word to Lord Frey. I'll meet him tomorrow morning to choose a wife. And a future husband for Arya as well. As long as my father is imprisoned, that responsibility falls to me." he said quietly.

Catelyn put a comforting hand on her son's shoulder before leaving. Ser Rodrik followed her out, leaving Robb alone to think over everything that had happened so far.

Line Break

"I trust they are to your liking," Walder Frey cackled as Robb walked along the line of girls.

Most of the girls before him shared many of the same features. Watery grey eyes, pale skin, weasel-like features that reminded the young lordly too much of their father. A few were too old for Robb, while many were also far too young. But there were a few present who caught Robb's eye, if only for a moment.

At the end of the line, the last girl did not meet Robb's eye, just as all the others hadn't. She kept her head down, allowing her hair to partially cover her face. Robb gently lifted her head so that he could see her better.

She was a small creature, with very white skin, a delicate nose, and a small chin. She had large, brown eyes that were full of innocence and kindness. She had long brown hair that flowed down her shoulders and back. She smiled slightly when Robb raised her face, revealing a slight gap in her teeth, not that it did anything to take away from her looks. She was pretty, there was no denying that.

"What is your name, my lady?" Robb asked gently.

The girl curtsied. "Roslin, my lord," she answered quietly.

Robb smiled. "A beautiful name." He complimented. He turned to Lord Walder, who was watching the exchange with a greedy look.

"I choose Lady Roslin."

"Good boy." Walder Frey wheezed happily.

Robb nodded. "I will send for her when I deal with the Kingslayer," he said, turning to look at the young boys who Lord Walder had suggested as squires and as a marriage proposal for Arya. They stood in a line across from their sisters and cousins.

Robb looked down at them. A few had a look in their eye that Robb immediately disliked. They were no better looking than the girls, but Robb pushed himself to walk down the line, looking at them all.

He stopped at one of them, scrutinizing the boy. He was just as tall as Robb, and maybe a touch older. He looked to be well-muscled and held himself well. He did not slouch or shift. He did have trouble holding Robb's gaze, and his finger tapped nervously at his side.

"What's your name?"

"Olyvar Frey, my lord," he answered, sounding a little anxious now that Robb was speaking to him.

"You look a little old to be a squire, no?" Robb asked.

"Still have much to learn, my lord," Olyvar responded.

"I see," Robb said, nodding. "Do you believe you could serve me well?"

Olyvar nodded quickly. "Yes, my lord. I know my stuff. My brother Stevron taught me well."

Robb glanced towards the heir to the crossing, who was watching at his father's side with his arms crossed. His mother had mentioned a few Frey's before he had arrived that morning. Stevron was one of the few whom she had spoken well about.

"Is that correct, Ser Stevron?" Robb called.

The man nodded in response. "Olyvar would make a fine squire, my lord. He's loyal and honest."

"Good qualities to have," Robb commented. "Alright, get your things together and saddle a horse."

Olyvar nodded and strode, standing a little taller than when he had entered. Robb continued down the line, coming to a stop in front of another boy. He was younger than Olyvar, but instead of being anxious, he seemed genuinely scared that Robb stopped in front of him, almost like he was worried that he would be hit.

Robb glanced back down the line of boys before back at the one in front of him. None of them seemed like they would make a good husband for her wild and energetic sister. Some, like the boy in front of him, she would eat alive. Other's looked like they would turn into wife-beaters when they were older, and Robb would fall on his sword rather than marry his sister off to a man like that.

"What's your name lad?" Robb asked finally.

The boy stood up straighter, reminding Robb a little of Bran trying to look older. "Bryan, my lord, son of Walton Frey."

Robb nodded, not caring who the boy's parents were. "Can you sharpen a blade? Polish armor? Can you ride?"

The boy nodded quickly. "Yes, my lord."

Robb nodded again. "Good. You will squire for Ser Rodrik," he said, now turning towards Lord Frey. "He will also marry my sister Arya."

Walder Frey's smile disappeared in an instant, replaced by his ever-present scowl. "Surely there is another who might be better for the girl…." he offered, glancing towards the older boys in the line, but Robb shook his head.

"My sister is a little girl, my lord. Bryan here is about the same age. Squiring for Ser Rodrik will make him a perfect husband for my sister." Robb said firmly. "It will be a few years before they will be able to marry. Enough time for Bryan here to become a knight."

Lord Walder frowned, glaring at the young lordling. He had wanted Robb to choose three males from his family, two for squires and one to marry his sister, but Robb had found a loophole in the agreement Walder had made with Lady Catelyn, and had taken advantage of it, much to Walder's annoyance.

"What about wards?" He demanded.

Robb shook his head. "I will deal with that when I finish with the Kingslayer," he said firmly. "I have not forgotten."

Walder Frey scowled further but nodded.

"Fine," he said, leaning back in his chair.

Robb turned back to Bryan, who was watching the interaction with wide eyes. "Go get your things lad and meet Olyvar at the stables. You're also coming with us."

The boy nodded and ran off. Robb turned towards Walder Frey, who was still glaring. "If that is all, my lord, I will see myself out. I must return to my army."

"My lord." someone said, stepping forward. He was of average height and sturdily built, armored in chainmail with a longsword at his side. His tabard bore the blue bridge of the Frey's.

"My name is Perwyn Frey, a knight of House Frey. I ask for you to allow me to ride with you?"

Robb gazed at the man, assessing him. He glanced at Lord Walder, who looked uninterested with his family member's outburst. Obviously, the Lord of the Crossing was not involved with the man offering his sword to Robb.

The young Stark nodded. "Very well. You have an hour to make ready and meet me in the stables," he ordered.

The man nodded gratefully and strode out of the room, followed by one of the boys and Ser Stevron. Robb bowed once to Lord Frey before walking out of the room, his mother and Theon following him.

"That was well done Robb." his mother said when they were out of the hall.

"What was?"

"Choosing the boy as Arya's husband. Now she won't have to be married for years." Catelyn said happily.

Robb nodded. "If they're married at all. Arya will kill the boy before she marries him."

Catelyn frowned. "Your sister will do her duty…." she started before Robb shook her head, stopping her.

"Perhaps, but you know Arya. She wants to fight and ride. I believe Father was tempted to send her to Bear Island if everything hadn't gone to hell." Robb said as the trio made their way out of the keep, where Ser Rodrik was waiting by the stables.

The cavalry, under Lord Hawker's command, had already marched west towards Riverrun, passing through the bridge while Robb was in the hall. They couldn't be more than half an hour ahead. Lord Glover was currently marshaling the infantry as Robb waited for the three Freys. They would be marching out soon.

Lord Roose and his men had marched out the night before, the Leech Lord wanting to get a night march on the Old Lion. Robb felt weird about sending two thousand men against twenty thousand, but he knew it had to be done.

"Did you know the Frey who spoke up in the hall?" Robb asked his mother.

Lady Catelyn thought for a moment before nodding. "Ser Perwyn," she answered. "He squired for Lord Mallister if my memory is correct. My uncle says that he is skilled with blade and lance."

Robb nodded. "We'll see," he said, just making idle conversation. The young Stark was tempted to mention the message he received from Last Hearth a few nights ago, but he didn't. He knew that it would only cause more harm than good, especially considering who he was around.

That was just another bridge to deal with but at a later date.