Things between you two were still quite.. tense. Yes, you had gotten wed a fortnight ago and had consummated the marriage, but it was still.. awkward.

Neither of you really had any say in this arrangement. The Stark house needed allies, and your grandmother thought it would be best if the Tyrell's had arrangements from both sides of the war. So, you had no choice but to marry Rob.

However, Rob, being noble like his father, treated you respectfully and let you keep your distance, as he knew it was hard to be away from your family, especially in times of war. He never made you do anything you didn't want to do, and let you have your hobbies (no matter how peculiar he found them to be.)

For this, you were thankful. And eventually, you did start to warm up around him, even if you wouldn't admit it. You'd dine with him more often and spend more time out of your chambers. He was kind and sensible, a true man in your eyes. And, you did think he was handsome. So, maybe it wasn't so bad after all.

The one thing you hated however, was the battles. Yes, it was war, and it was necessary. But, to you— it was terrifying. Terrifying knowing that your new husband was risking his life, let alone his people's lives too. You knew it was important, yes— but it was still horrific.

It was even more horrific tonight when you saw rob come into your chambers (which was technically a makeshift tent for you personally) covered in blood and bruises. You immediately stand and rush over to him, but he steps back.

"I'm fine, my lady. Please don't worry, I just came to see how you were—" You cut him off, grabbing his arm and setting him down on your bed.

You grab your water-filled cup and handkerchief, sitting down right in front of him and began to clean him off. He winced the second the water touched one of his bruises, quickly moving away.

"You don't need to worry, my lady. I'm okay, believe me. I prom—" He cuts himself off once again when you cup his face and tilt it slightly, cleaning another spot on his face.