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Plot: Eddard Stark offered her a deal. Safe return to the Seven Kingdoms but in exchange she would need to marry his son, to keep her under watch instead of killing her like Robert wanted. She accepted because she believed she could work on her plans from within. She could turn the Young Wolf in her ally. But she wasn't expecting Robb Stark not to be like the men she knew.

Pairing: RobbxDany

NOTE: Fluff piece... >_<

Chapter 1 : Secrets

When she accepted the deal – the marriage – she had more ideas in her mind that the ones she had been able to turn into plans. She had long ago forgotten those childish dreams about love and innocence so she deemed fitting to be married to a man she didn't love once again – and this time she wouldn't fall in love. This time, she would use the man like Viserys had taught her.

Eddard Stark might had thought he was doing a favor to her and keeping his honor like the stupid man he was – one who respected honor and family like no other in the Seven Kingdoms and across the Narrow Sea. He had thought that by keeping her under his eyes after the Usurper's death, she wouldn't try to regain her rightful place in the throne. She was barely more than a child for them after all.

He had sent a man to offer her a safe return, to be placed under his protection and by that he meant to be turned into his eldest son's wife. He wanted for her to be sent far into the North in Winterfell's Great Keep – to keep her a prisoner.

But she trusted in her capabilities and also that no man proud of calling himself so was able to resist a woman if she knew how to make him see what she wanted him to see. Even a Stark could be turned into her ally if she picked her weapons wisely.

Her only demand had to bring Ser Jorah Mormont back with her but he was the one refusing to such thing. So she only would have Irri, Jhiqui and Doreah with her. Her babies – her dragons – were not part of the deal but she took them with her anyway.

She was not afraid of Robb Stark – she had been married to Khal Drogo and, no matter how poorly they talked about northmen, she doubted it could be much worse than the nomad's life.

-o-

There's no room for a pompous wedding – for a Queen's wedding – she was told. But soon she realized that her wedding would be in secret. Not even Eddard Stark himself would be there to see his son espouse.

Only Lady Catelyn would serve as witness from his family. And she didn't seem content about it.

Luckily for her, or not, she knew what to expect when she stood before a priest the night after her arrival in King's Landing, inside a small inn. She had seen a glimpse of his wild reddish brown hair and striking blue eyes. His skin was almost as pale as hers, and he looked trapped under the black of his outfit. He was barely older than her but shyer and solemn.

It occurred to her for the first time that he wanted this marriage less than she did. That he was following orders. But everyone had to play under the rules of nobility. It would've been much easier for them to be commoners and married out of love, to do what they wanted.

His beard helped him to make him look like a man but she could tell he was facing the same moment she had during her first wedding.

She didn't pity him. After all, she had been a peon in other people's game and it was only fair that he did as well.

The only thing she could be grateful about was that he was handsome and he seemed rather docile, perfect for her plans.

He said his vows in a monotone voice but boldly looked into her eyes through the ceremony. She replied with her own in a soft, alluring voice with hopes he would believe in her being a very helpless woman despite the stories and rumors about the Targaryens.

He dr.a.p.ed the cloak over her shoulders and she became his lawful wife in that poorly lit room with less luxury than she would've hoped for but with his promise of protection.

"You should go to your room," Catelyn Stark said in a hushed voice, probably thinking that the whole thing was not what her son deserved, not what any mother wanted for their children much less when they had ignored every custom.

She alone led them to a room. There was no feast, no commotion and no bedding because that night Robb Stark looked at her with the eyes of a man who felt betrayed, who felt duty was punishment.

"You can choose the side of the bed," he muttered as his eyes fell onto the dancing flames of the fire.

Daenerys stared at him, confused because despite everything she expected a s.e.x starved man. She expected to be abused by a man who had assumed he owned her now. Seeing that he wasn't about to mistreat her, she realized that there must have a reason of his own not to bed her.

"My marriage was brief," she said, carefully moving closer to him. "I know you must have expected a young maiden with her virtue intact and I do apologize if because of my arrival here you have lost a lover." She had to bite back her tongue not to yell at him that she hadn't had a saying in her first marriage, that he hadn't the right to sulk like a child.

His cold eyes, blue like the sea dothrakis were so afraid of, bore into hers. "I lost no lover and, believe me, your virtue is something I couldn't worry less about." He walked around her and put more distance between them, never losing eye contact with her. "And I know you bore a child."

Her c.h.e.s.t constricted painfully. One thing was to accept the loss of Drogo but losing a child she had carried inside her was another completely. Mayhap she had underestimated the Young Wolf and he was smarter than to abuse her physically – he would hurt her by opening healing wounds.

"Sleep," he ordered, motioning to the bed. "We need to leave early before news of your stay here reaches the ears of the Spider."

"If he's as good as they say, he must know."

"But he hasn't found a reason to make it work to his favor." He bowed his head. "Just sleep."

And with that, he left the room, leaving her alone once more.

Daenerys didn't know why it hurt so much to be ignored like that when the last thing she wanted was to feel like another man had enslaved her to satisfy his every wish. Probably it had something to do with not knowing what to expect now that Robb Stark showed that he wasn't like most men, that he wasn't about to work as she had thought.

But after a long trip through the Narrow Sea and a wedding, she would gladly fall asleep and continue with her plans next day.

-o-

Her new horse was nothing like the Silver. This beast was black as the darkest night and with a faint star. It was strong and solid like a rock but docile and silent.

"You are used to riding, right?" Robb spoke quietly, preparing his own horse. "We'll need to ride for a long time to be as far from here as we can by the end of the day."

She wanted to snap at him for how daring he was, for how he thought she was a girl who needed to be told what to think and do. She knew they were in danger and they needed to flee but what she hadn't known until then was that Ser Rodrik and Lady Catelyn weren't leaving with them.

"Large parties call more attention," the old, short and stout man grumbled.

Robb kept silently reading the horses and shot a look at her when she gazed her long dress. She was used to riding but not in the outfits ladies donned in the Seven Kingdoms and somehow she doubted her Dothraki clothes would be approved by people here.

Irri, Jhiqui and Doreah would ride as well but they weren't very confident about making the trip with just one man to look for them, much less when said man didn't look as built nor had long hair that proved his skills in battle. They were also afraid of Grey Wind, Robb's pet direwolf who followed him everywhere.

Daenerys chuckled to herself at hearing their protests.

"Need help?" Robb asked before mounting his horse.

She heaved a deep sigh and as learned, she mounted her horse with as much grace as she could, considering her dress, her height and the eyes on her.

"No, I don't," she retorted haughtily.

For the first time since she had seen him, she saw the shadow of a smirk on the Young Wolf's lips before he also sat astride his horse.

Approaching to her on horse, he pulled the hood of her cloak to cover her head and hide her face.

"Hair as white as yours is not common. Better keep it covered unless you want us beheaded before we make it out of here."

She huffed and tugged on the furs dr.a.p.ed over his horse.

"Furs like these aren't common south of the Neck. We aren't hiding them."

"I'm not a Targaryen," he replied. "I could pretend to be anyone." His smirk disappeared under the shadow of his own hood as he pulled it up.

He soon was leading the way out of the city with her right behind him.

It would be a long trip and even more if she had to hear her handmaidens complain about her restricting dresses. She just hoped they would take care of the dragons each one of them carried in a basket attached to their horses. And that Robb wouldn't found out about them any time soon despite the many times Grey Wind sniffed the baskets.

-o-

He was a graceful horse rider, with a much different technique than Dothraki people but much more similar to Ser Jorah. She missed her best advisor but he said he trusted her – that she needed to not be as hot-blooded as her brother had been and she'd be fine.

It amused her to see hints of his reddish hair gleaming under the sun. Robb seemed like a boy who had unwillingly turned into a man. He had probably been a playful young lad who would've been happy just forgoing his duties as a noble man. And she had sometimes thought about it but it was in their blood.

By nightfall, they had found a small inn, a place where only Robb spoke to the man in charge and the women who served the patrons.

Daenerys could tell the man had uttered a crude joke about them because he was eyeing her and her handmaidens with hungry eyes like most men in the place that fortunately weren't many. She didn't know what Robb had said in return but he had handed a few coins to the man.

"Follow me," Robb spoke as soon as he returned to them.

He had paid for two rooms, one for them and another for her handmaidens.

Once inside the room she finally shed her hooded cloak but Robb just adjusted his clothes and checked on his sword.

"Aren't you going to bed?" she asked, looking for her clothes and untangling her hair to braid it before bed.

He took a chair and placed it near the door, where he sat. "I can't." Grey Wind curled down at Robb's feet and made clear that both of them would stand guard at the door.

She wasn't about to fight him because they were in danger, both thanks to her and, if rumors were true, about his father and his sense of justice and right.

She didn't understand why anyone would mess with power, or why if Eddard Stark didn't trust the Usurper's judgment, he hadn't done something about it sooner, from the inside. But betrayal wasn't how the Starks played.

-o-

Morning greeted her with the sight of a direwolf wide awake lying near the door and a sleeping Robb still uncomfortable sat on a chair.

She got out of bed to watch him sleep. Long and thick eyelashes fanning over his high cheeks, unruly hair, body tense even in sleep and his hand gripping his sword for dear life.

"Robb," she whispered softly, not to startle him. She leaned over his shoulder, closer to his ear and called his name again.

He felt warm and she smelt the faint odor of sweat clinging to his skin. It wasn't entirely unpleasant – it didn't bother her as much as it could've done and in fact it was nice.

Before she could think about it, she placed her soft hand over the one who held the sword and dragged the tip of her nose over the beard covering his cheek.

He woke up and tried to pull his sword out for a second, until he recognized her. Robb stayed still as she nuzzled his cheek. Her smell and softness were probably something he wasn't used to. He had probably bedded maidens up in the north but no ladies and much less ones that were much more experienced – much less ones that had been taught about amatory arts with Dothrakis.

She sat astride his l.a.p and let go of his hands but he didn't move. So she took the initiative and kissed him softly. This was about testing his limits and the power she could have on him. By no means had she wanted to be attracted to him.

At first he didn't respond but soon his lips were massaging hers and she sighed against her will when his hands fell upon her h.i.p.s, c.a.r.e.s.sing softly but firmly over the sheer barrier of her gown. There was something different about his kisses and touch – he was gentler and with more patience, something neither Drogo nor her had had.

His fingers dug into the flesh of her waist and he deepened the kiss. Her own arms wound around his neck and she buried her fingers into the mass of reddish curls of his hair. His hands crept down and tried to look for the hem of her gown but before he could glide his roughened palms up the sides of her t.h.i.g.hs, he pulled back.

His hands abandoned the place on her knees and he turned his face away.

"Stop," he muttered somewhat angered. "We need to leave soon." He eased her on her feet as he stood up, gently but he was rejecting her and it infuriated her. "I'll send your handmaids in," he said before making its way out of the room with his wolf in tow.

Dany clenched her jaw and wondered for the first time if maybe Eddard Stark had known exactly what he was doing when he had offered her to marry Robb and she had been fooled by the man because his son was certainly not what she had expected.

She didn't know who was going to drive the other mad.

Chapter End