Lord Stark promised his help," said Dacey, and her voice was the softest Hermione had ever heard it. It prompted her to look up at she noted that the woman's brown eyes had gone gooey, like melted chocolate instead of the hard, brittle look she normally wore in them when around Hermione. "He is a wonderful man who will keep his promise. But first-"
Dacey stepped back and reached forward to grab Hermione's wrist in her hand and pull her forward. "We have a feast to attend."
Hermione now groaned. "Must we?"
The feast was underway all of twenty minutes before Robb noticed Hermione - it wasn't like he was hyper aware of the time it took between when food was brought out to when she arrived, of course, no that would be silly - but because she looked so different.
Her hair was in a strange half-up, half-down mass, framing her long neck. Her dress was a pretty periwinkle blue, her arms bare and her collarbones on display with a square neck and dress that hugged her curves, gently wafting out in layered pleats. Her face even seemed different, glowing or shimmering around her eyes and her lips were as pink as a rose.
(And because Dacey was smirking beside the witch, when before she couldn't stand to be in her presence, so Robb wondered what had changed but he didn't wonder that much because God's above, was that a slit in her gown?)
Hermione strode forward, ignoring - or attempting to, Robb could see the discomfort on her face - the stares as Dacey led her behind and to the Head Table, where he sat with his mother to his left, his uncle Edmure beside her, and then his Great-Uncle Brynden; to his right, where an empty chair sat for her as his guest of honour.
"My Lord Stark," announced Dacey, eyes bright with amusement, "May I present the Lady Hermione Granger?"
He inclined his head, minutely, and Hermione turned to thank Dacey with a quiet murmur. She then glanced at the empty seat, and he jumped to his feet, just as Torrhen, who stood behind him, moved forward to pull the chair back from the table.
Hermione stared at them both, eyes wide, but then accepted the chair and gingerly sat. Robb glanced at Torrhen, who, rebuked, lowered his eyes and the young Wolf pushed the chair in gently.
Robb swallowed thickly and motioned to the platters and bowls of food in front of them. "May I, Lady Hermione?"
She nodded, and silence fell between the two as he served her from the many dishes, and then, attempted to not look like a fool watching her eat.
"Was the - ah - was the library satisfactory, milady?" he asked, fumbling the beginning as they finished their food. He had completely ignored his mother and uncle, and felt conscious of the Blackfish's amused eyes on him.
Hermione hummed thoughtfully. "It was a good starting point, but I haven't gone through everything yet. I may have to change my plans - if that's okay?"
"Change your plans?" he echoed dumbly.
She nodded, and her curls bounced and he was entranced. "Yes; stay at Riverrun longer instead of joining your army towards Lannisport." She made a face. "Especially as I now know how far everything is."
"The library, the castle; all of Riverrun is at your disposal," blurted Robb, and from his other side, he heard his mother's sharp hiss.
Fuck, he thought, I all but declared her Lady of the Castle with that. His eyes darted around the Hall, looking for the nearest Frey. Shit - did a Frey overhear? Are they going to consider that a breach in our contract? Fuck!
"That's very kind of you," said Hermione, drawing his attention again. "But I honestly just need to borrow the library. You won't even notice me, I promise."
"I doubt anyone could forget you, Lady Hermione." And there goes my mouth again. God's teeth - what am I? Three and ten and around the first maiden to give me a compliment?
"My Lord?"
Robb happily and gratefully turned in his chair to look at Torrhen, who was struggling between keeping a straight face and smirking as his eyes very quickly moved to Lady Hermione and then back. "The Lords are gathering for the meeting, if you're ready to join them…?"
"Yes!" he nearly shouted, rising from his chair. "Yes - I'll be right here. Uncles, will you be joining?"
Edmure and Brynden both nodded, also standing, and Robb turned back to Hermione. "Lady Hermione, Torrhen here will escort you to your room, and-"
"Is Lady Hermione not joining us?" called Lord Karstark, over the din of the men in the Hall, drawing everyone's attention to the Head Table. Robb grit his teeth. "After all, she was the one who brought the Kingslayer to us."
Everyone's eyes turned to the witch beside Robb, and her own went wide and her face pale. "oh, no - really - honestly - I couldn't…"
"Please," added Lord Bolton, his reedy voice carrying across the now silent Hall, "Your different opinion and insight would be a breath of fresh air."
Robb, seeing he was being backed into this corner, graciously ceded the fight to his manipulative Lords. He sighed, holding out his elbow again. "Lady Hermione, this way…?"
Staring at his arm, Hermione paused, indecision on her face. He waited, patiently, but he dearly hoped she wouldn't reject him or cast some strange magic. Finally, slowly, she reached out and curled her fingers into his arm. Heat seared him, racing down his arm and straight into his stomach which tightened uncomfortably.
They led the way, past his mother and her very disapproving face; past a smirking Bolton and amused Karstark and Umber; past the Mallisters and Hornwoods and Mormonts and others, into the side room that Robb used for the Northern Lords and Lady to discuss their next move, but also to discuss what went wrong and what improvements they could make for the next battle.
He moved to his usual seat, at the head of the table, Hermione still on his arm. He gestured to the chair to his right, and, ignoring the symbolic nature, helped her into it with a swollen throat and a thick tongue, murmuring quietly to her as the others entered, "Welcome to the Northern Army, Lady Hermione."
He tried not to read too much into it -
Or the jolt of pleasure saying it had to hi