A/N: Here's the final chapter! Finishing a fic is always bittersweet to me, as saying goodbye to the characters is hard but at the same time you do feel a lovely sense of accomplishment. Thank you all one last time for your feedback, and I really hope you enjoy the conclusion to this story. Robb and Margaery are my favourite ship and I'm certain I'll be writing more of them in the future.

When she had first come to Winterfell close to twenty years ago, Margaery hadn't imagined she would one day be so happy to watch the man she loved dancing with someone else. The young woman Robb Stark gently spun around looked beautiful in a white dress and delicate tiara that caught the light from the nearby candles each time she moved, and she gave a laugh whenever Robb leant in and whispered something in her ear. She looked as if she was enjoying herself immensely, and for that Margaery was delighted. She had always thought that if one thing could be said about celebrations in Winterfell, it was that everyone always had a thoroughly good time.

"Come dance with me, sweetheart," Robb's voice suddenly spoke up, snapping Margaery out of her thoughts, "I can't promise I won't embarrass you, but I'll do my best." He and his companion had made their way over to her, and he extended his hand while the young woman next to him giggled.

"You always say that," Margaery teased Robb, then turning to the person by his side, "What am I going to do about your father, Karine?"

"I think you will have to dance with him and prove him wrong yet again, Mama," Karine Stark replied, a smile playing at the corners of her lips as Margaery could only laugh and agree.

"The two of you looked so wonderful dancing together," Margaery commented to Karine as Robb helped her to her feet, "I can still scarcely believe you are sixteen years old already, sweetling."

"I was telling her the very same thing," Robb admitted, looking fondly at his daughter, "It fills me with joy see the kind, clever, elegant and beautiful young lady she has become."

"Thank you, Papa," Karine breathed, her smile only broadening, "And thank you as well, Mama. My gift is beautiful and today's feast has been perfect."

"Mama and Papa, please promise you won't get me a tiara on my sixteenth nameday," a blur of red hair announced, appearing all of a sudden and stopping only to press a kiss to her mother's then her father's cheek.

"You speak as if your mother and I didn't know you, Julie," Robb noted, shaking his head a little.

"We wouldn't dream of it, darling," Margaery said before instructing her daughter, "I know today's been an exciting day but please slow down a bit."

"You might run into someone, Julie," Karine added, and Julianne Stark nodded after exchanging a smile with her father who looked amused despite himself.

"Karine, I'm almost certain the Cassel boy wants to dance with you," Julianne commented, giving a giggle as she took Karine's hands.

"Well, if he wants to dance with me then he can come ask me," Karine noted, and if she said anything after that Margaery didn't hear as she was gently led away by her husband.

"Look, Ned, Mama and Papa are going to dance!" a voice piped up from nearby, "They look so elegant when they dance."

"Aye, they do," another voice agreed, "One day I hope I can dance as well as Papa."

"See, my love?" Margaery said to Robb, her tone soft, "All of our children know that you're just being modest when you say you have no talent for dancing."

"You are all far too kind to me," Robb commented, giving Ned and Lyanna Stark a wave as he and his wife circled each other. The two were twins although it was hard to tell now that they were fourteen, their looks over the years having grown to reflect their very distinct personalities. They stood out a little amongst their siblings, however, as being the only two with hair that was a rich brown like their mother's.

"It's so odd to have already put Connor to bed at this time," Margaery mentioned as her hands came to rest on Robb's shoulders, "I thought it was impossible to tire him out but we seem to have managed it today."

"Didn't he say he wanted his next nameday to be as good as Karine's?" Robb asked, giving a small chuckle, "I'll tell him to be especially nice to his mother because without her this wouldn't have been possible. Thank you, sweetheart, for taking care of everything."

"It was and always will be my pleasure, my love," Margaery said in return, "Nothing makes me happier than being with our children and being with you. I just hope everyone has eaten and drunk and danced and sung to their heart's content tonight."

"I wouldn't worry about that," Robb affirmed, grinning then nodding over to his and Margaery's twins, "Ned and Lyanna look like they've enjoyed themselves so much they can barely keep their eyes open."

"Oh, yes, just look at our poor darlings. We can put the children to bed soon and go to bed ourselves," Margaery said, adding quietly as she leant in close to her husband, "You look so handsome this evening, my love."

"And you look beautiful. You always look beautiful," Robb murmured, leaning in to press his lips to Margaery's in a loving kiss. Margaery was wearing her crown that evening, as was Robb, and though sometimes it weighed a bit heavy on her head she found that when her husband kissed her she forgot she was wearing it at all.

When Margaery's husband took her to bed that night and helped her undress amidst many kisses, she had already been imagining that they wouldn't be falling asleep for quite some time. She and Robb had each other so often that she thought it somewhat surprising they didn't have more than five children, and each time felt somehow distinct and different to the last. Sometimes he was her wolf, surprising her with a sudden burning desire and taking her hard enough that the next day she would be able to close her eyes and remember exactly how good he had felt between her legs. On other occasions they would love each other slowly, as though they had all the time in the world, and let their pleasure build together until they both came apart almost at the same time. This occasion felt like a celebration of everything the two of them had accomplished together, and Robb's kisses were equally tender and passionate as Margaery situated herself on top of him, guiding their movements and kissing him back just as fervently. He slid a hand between them to the sweet spot he knew she loved to have touched, and Margaery screamed as her pleasure overtook her. When she fell back against the featherbed not long afterwards, feeling Robb's seed within her, it was with a sigh of deep satisfaction. She nestled against her husband and let her breathing settle while his arm wrapped around her, making her feel safe and secure as Robb always did.

"Our Karine is sixteen years old…gods, sometimes it feels like yesterday that you gave birth to her," Robb murmured absently after they'd been lying in silence for a little while, "I still remember holding her in my arms and thinking I had never seen anything so small and so perfect in my life."

"I remember. You had the look of a man falling in love," Margaery remarked softly, giving a smile, "I'm so proud of our daughter…of all our children. I wish sometimes we had been blessed with more."

"I would not have minded more," Robb admitted with a chuckle, "But the gods have been very good to us."

"Aye, they have," Margaery agreed, pressing a kiss to Robb's shoulder, "And you have been good to accept their blessings. I remember a young man who was so afraid to let himself love again."

"I remember a young woman who brought light into my life when there was none," Robb whispered, taking one of his wife's hands in his own, "I've lost count of how many times you've saved my life, Margaery."

"You must stop with such nonsense," Margaery told him gently, "I wouldn't have a life were it not for you. I might have a crown, I might have sons and daughters…but I wouldn't have joy, I wouldn't have love."

Robb rolled over slightly so he could look Margaery in the eyes, and her words made him break into a broad smile. When Margaery had first met him his smile had tended to appear slowly on his face, almost as if it didn't quite belong there. Now, however, it always seemed to come so naturally and effortlessly that once it was there it became difficult to imagine him being serious. "I love you, Margaery. I don't feel close to forty years old when I'm with you," he admitted in a murmur, pressing a kiss to her lips.

"I love you, Robb," Margaery murmured back, "With you I do not feel my age, either. I feel we somehow reclaim the years of our youth that the war took from us…from you most of all."

"Sometimes I do worry for our children, though," Robb confessed, "They have only ever known peace. I don't know if we can ever prepare them for what might happen should war come to Westeros again."

"Could your parents ever have prepared you?" Margaery questioned, "All we can do is our best, my love. All we can do is live each day."

"I suppose you're right," Robb agreed, bringing up her hand that he was still holding to press a kiss there, "And we can teach them to be brave. We can teach them there is no shame in fear, but you cannot let it control you."

"I'm sure they'll learn that by example. They'll learn from you," Margaery told Robb just before closing the small distance between them and kissing him again.

Margaery sometimes wondered if some wounds could ever heal entirely, and if it was ever possible to completely forget the pain of the past. Privately she didn't think so, but she didn't believe that to necessarily be a bad thing. There was no changing what had already happened. Her husband was the man he was because of everything he had experienced, and she loved him and felt loved in return for everything that she was. Whenever she settled against Robb's chest and felt him breathing and kissed over his heart, she felt certain that when the gods came to take her someday she would have no regrets.

"You save my life every day, Robb," she whispered just before she closed her eyes.