Robb didn't realize how much time was passing as he stood outside of the walls of Meereen. He'd been lost in the moment, lost in something besides his own grief, and he thinks perhaps it was the most alive he'd felt since Kartstark had left.

He may only have known Daenerys Targaryen for a short while, but in spite of all the darkness behind him, the world already feels a bit brighter.

The sun's setting when they return and he bids farewell to the Queen as he encounters Jhiqui again. She shows him to where his people have been set up, and when she points out the tent that is meant to be his, he enters to find his wife and mother both inside. His mother seemed to be fussing over Talisa — or more likely, over the child that's becoming more and more pronounced in her belly all the time — but Catelyn ceases the moment that Robb enters.

There had been a tentativeness surrounding his mother ever since Jaime Lannister's release; Robb had made her a prisoner, and it had made her retreat from speaking her mind. Some of that had lessened while they'd been on their travels, but now that they're among Daenerys's camp, now that politics and war are back at the forefront of everything, some of that hesitancy seems to have returned.

Talisa, however, has never been afraid to speak her mind. It's one of the things he loves most about her; she doesn't shy away from what's happening around her, and she doesn't care that he's a king. If she thinks he's making a mistake, she'll tell him as much.

"Well?" she asks Robb expectantly, and for a second it reminds him of Daenerys, the look she'd given him on the ride back. The way it only took one word and a pointed glare before Robb was spilling all of his thoughts.

He sits beside Talisa, one hand going to rest on where their babe grows inside of her, and begins to recount what he'd witnessed earlier that day. He's hoping that his wife isn't about to tell him he's making a mistake now.

If this is a mistake, then where else is there to turn?

Nowhere , he thinks. If Daenerys Targaryen is not the answer to their prayers, if it turns out that she is just as cruel or corrupt as the rest of them, then he hates to imagine the world their child will be coming into in just a few weeks' time.

Robb almost forgets that his mother is in the room as he talks; she's listening, taking it all in, pondering it.

Talisa, on the other hand, interrupts him to ask questions, and often. When he gets to the bit about the arrows fired in a warning shot, she asks him if anyone was injured, if there's anyone here that she can help.

He loves that about her, too. Her willingness to help no matter what, no matter what side of the war someone's on. She'd helped their enemies back in Westeros, and now she'd help perfect strangers, even with the effects of her pregnancy that she's surely feeling. She doesn't complain about it to him, not ever, and he loves that about her too. How strong she is, how confident and independent — Robb thinks he needs his wife entirely more than she needs him.

He's always questioning himself, always seeking approval, always wishing his father was still here to impart just a bit more wisdom on him before he goes further down this path. Talisa's someone who has left her past behind and never seems to doubt her choice, and Robb hopes that maybe someday, when he looks back on all that's transpired, he can feel some sort of peace. Some sort of sense that this was all worth it in the end, that ultimately, what he's doing now was right .

But while Robb is half a world away from home, grasping onto his last chance to give the Lannister the justice they deserve and give the North the safety and freedom it deserves… he's given a jolting reminder, after he's done talking, that this is the closest to Talisa's home that he's ever been.

"She sounds like her heart is in the right place," Catelyn finally chimes in, and even with the rift between them of late Robb hears her unspoken just like yours . He was just a boy when this all started; Daenerys was just a girl. They're two rulers clinging to ideals and morals and senses of right and wrong, but Robb knows that for him, at least, it hasn't been enough.

He'd said he never wanted to do all of this for the glory or the songs, but gods, wouldn't it have been nice if things had turned out in a way that was worth singing about it? He regrets ever saying it, now that he sees the way his life has unfolded more like a horror than like a triumphant tale of old.

"Her heart is in the right place," Talisa agrees, but he senses there is a but coming even before she says it. "But if there's so much good she can do here, why go back to Westeros at all? Think of all the good she can do for other slaves here — after Meereen, there's Myr, there's Tyrosh, there's Volantis…"

Robb thinks he should agree with her. After all, he has very little to go back to Westeros for at this point, too — Bran, gone. Rickon, gone. Father, gone. No word of Arya for moons, Jon's life dedicated to the black. Theon and the Boltons had betrayed him, his men were gone… Perhaps it would be simpler, staying here, helping Daenerys, bringing better life to people he hadn't already failed so readily.

But then he thinks of Sansa. Naive, beautiful Sansa, still in the capitol surrounded by monsters, still waiting for a brother who hadn't yet come to save her…

That fire still burned within him. He needed to go home, he needed to set things right. He needed to save his sister, take back his home, give his son or daughter a chance at the idyllic life in Winterfell that he'd had growing up, the one before Robert Baratheon that he looked back on with nothing but fondness.

Daenerys Targaryen may not have gotten to grow up in Westeros the way that Robb had, but it was a part of her. Her history, her legacy… her destiny, she seemed to think.

He had a feeling she wasn't going to be able to agree with his wife's sentiment any more than Robb was.

"Westeros needs someone decent to rule it, too," Robb tells her with regret, and he can sense her twinge of disappointment. She hadn't been impressed with Westeros and the way the common folk were sacrificed so readily for the wars of men who fancied themselves important.

She hadn't been impressed by her own home, either, once upon a time. They're so close to the home she left, though; they're in the presence of someone who has already started to make the areas around it better, and Talisa's right. If Daenerys kept going, if she kept influencing Essosi cities to try a different way…

Volantis is so close compared to where they'd been before, but it feels so far from where he and Daenerys both want to be. From where their duty awaits them. Robb has a feeling this is the closest to Volantis they'll ever actually be, and he feels a small amount of sadness for his wife as he changes the subject, doing his best to leave his wife's train of thought behind.

Robb wakes the next morning with a start. He and Talisa had stayed up talking with Cat a bit longer before his mother had retreated to her own tent and they'd all gotten a good night's rest, but he realizes he'd been so busy thinking of other things the night before that he'd overlooked one slightly important thing.

Jorah Mormont.

Or moreso, the small group of Northern men who are unaware they're now in the same camp as a traitor to the North, including his cousin Dacey.

Dacey has been one of his most loyal fighters this whole time, has been strong and brave and had masked her feelings well, even when she'd learned of the disastrous wedding and the fact that her mother Maege had likely died at it.

Robb springs up and tugs on clothing quickly, knowing that it's the least he can do for her, to make sure she hears of Jorah's allegiance to Daenerys before she has to see him with her own eyes.

Talisa stirs as Grey Wind settles beside her, replacing Robb's warmth. She likes to push through things, but Robb knows that she is growing slower as she grows heavier with child, sleeping later, taking things a bit easier where she thinks no one will notice. He is glad of hsi wolf's willingness to protect her as he himself leaves the tent and hopes that someone will be able to tell him of Dacey's whereabouts.

He doesn't see Jhiqui, or Ser Barristan or Daenerys. He does spot a familiar face, though; his Uncle Brynden is already awake and talking quietly with his mother, and Robb walks over to them quickly.

"Is everything all right?" Cat asks, looking in the direction of his tent, for some sign of Talisa. Robb must look even more frantic than he feels, if his mother's first assumption is that something is wrong with his wife, and then he feels guilty, that he's not worrying about her more. He'd seen his mother go through childbirth when he was young, knew that it was taxing, and yet he'd brought his wife halfway around the world and hadn't asked nearly often enough how she was doing.

Later , Robb promised. She was always asking how he was bearing his burdens; later, he'd start doing a better job of doing the same in kind.

Right now, though, he said, "Fine, I just needed to speak with Dacey about something. A… sensitive matter."

He can tell his mother wants to ask, and he's more willing to share things with her than he was before they'd left, away from scrutinizing eyes of men who feel Catelyn Stark has taken their justice away from them.

"Over there," his uncle answers before his mother can question him, though, and Robb heads off in her direction, knowing this must be done before they're given an audience with the queen, lest chances at an alliance be ruined by tensions between one of his most trusted advisors and one of hers.

"Robb," Dacey greets him informally as he's told her to do, something he's glad of. It's almost unbearable sometimes, the way people he'd loved to have considered equals in another life are always treating him as if he's on a different level, like he's untouchable or somehow above them. He doesn't feel above them, and he doesn't want to be… Even if he is. Even if he doesn't really have anyone who understands or shares his burden… except perhaps the Targaryen queen they'd come all this way to see.

Dacey nods her head in greeting, but she barely makes eye contact with Robb. She's busy looking around, always being alert. He's just glad that her eyes don't seem to have alerted her of the company Queen Daenerys kept yet, and he nods his head towards the side, indicating he'd like to talk to her somewhere where others can't hear.

"You have a wife, your Grace," she jests, and gods, he's so grateful for moments of lightness like this. They've been so few and far between of late, and he knows this one's not going to last, not once he tells her what he needs to.

"Aye, and I'm sure said wife would love to kill me herself if I let you walk around this camp completely unaware," Robb replies, and finally her attention stops being on their surroundings and starts being fully on their king.

Dacey lets Robb pull her to the side, and then asks, "Unaware of what?"

Robb had known her reaction wouldn't be pretty; Jorah Mormont was a blemish to their family name. Jorah Mormont had sold slaves , which made no sense with his queen's current mission, and idly, Robb wondered again if she knew.

Dacey had barely contained a roar at the news that he was not only alive and well after escaping the fate he'd earned for himself, but that he was one of their new queen's most trusted advisors.

"He should have come to justice years ago!" Dacey hisses, when she starts to worry that too many eyes will be on them if she's too loud. Robb nods his head, because he knows . He knows she's right, and he knows it's what his father would have done.

Hells, months ago it's what he would have done, too. But he thinks back to Karstark, he thinks of what has happened since that fateful moment when he'd swung his sword, and he knows he can't ask for justice, not now. Not with this alliance so new and so precarious, and especially not with how little he has to offer to Daenerys.

"What choice do we have?" Robb asks her sadly, wishing he could do this for her and her family. Wishing he could finish what his own father had started, as a way to feel close to him, even as day by day his face started to slip further and further out of her memory.

Would Ned Stark be proud of him now, for backing down from making Jorah Mormont pay for his crimes? Robb wanted to hope that he'd be glad his son had learned from his mistakes, and that he could compromise when it was necessary for a greater good, but he didn't know anymore.

He didn't feel like he knew much of anything anymore, but he did know that he'd have to ask Dacey to temper her feelings on this, at least for the time being.

"The North remembers. I can't forget what he did, nor can I forgive it," Dacey insists, and Robb can feel how incensed she is. He also knows, though, how loyal she is. She'll listen, and follow, even if she doesn't like what he commands.

"I can't ask you to do either of those things. I won't. All I can ask is that none of us jeopardize our situation with Queen Daenerys by being less than civil to him," Robb says, and she sighs unhappily, then nods her head.

"I'll do my best," she huffs, then takes her leave.

Robb returns to his tent to find Talisa being fussed over by Jhiqui, and he chuckles at the sight, knowing how his wife hates to be taken care of.

"Special occasion?" he prods, wondering why she's allowing it now — if it's that the baby has made her more amenable to such things, or something else.

Jhiqui answers before Talisa can, nodding her head as she says, "Khaleesi has requested an audience with your Northerners," before continuing to help Talisa ready herself for the meeting.

Robb smiles to himself. It isn't enough to tell his people that Daenerys is someone he thinks they can believe in; now, they'll finally get to see it for themselves.