shieldmaiden_rohan | A ride with Robb [AU]

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robb

A ride with Robb [AU]

Riding with Robb had begun as a way to exercise two of the horses at once, as well as a way for him to acquaint her with the island's farther reaches. At first it had occurred infrequently and accidentally, merely because both were in the stable at the same time. Recently, however, she had begun arranging to be in the stables at the same time each day to provide the horses with more structure, which some seemed to appreciate. She had noticed that Robb had also begun to appear at that time more often than not. While she did not presume to believe that he was arranging his visits to coincide with hers, she would not object. Conversation with Robb was always enjoyable and two pairs of hands were often helpful if the horses declined to do as they were asked to do.

When she walked into the stables today, she was mostly unsurprised to note that he was there was well.

"Good morrow to you, Robb," she said warmly.

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"Good morning," Robb calls back cheerfully, emerging from the tack room with a saddle over his arms. "I thought you'd be here this morning. I'm headed all the way across the island this morning--one of the patrols came back yesterday reporting a house they don't remember seeing before, I said I'd look at it. Want to come along?"

"That is passing strange," Eowyn agreed, though she had been on the island long enough not to consider it to be too strange. Things appeared and disappeared here. "I would be glad to accompany you, and I believe Lorica would be glad of the exercise as well."

She had not ridden the mare in some days and knew that if she did not ride her soon, she would be difficult for some weeks.

"Strange, but not unheard of," Robb agrees easily. "I thought you'd come, there's already lunch packed for you." He grins. "It's a good long ride, I couldn't imagine you'd say no."

Robb was a considerate friend, to have packed a lunch for her already, and she did not at all mind his assumption that she would agree to accompany him.

"And what if I had chosen not to ride today?" she teased him very lightly. It had taken some time for her to feel comfortable enough to do so.

"Then I would have had an extra lunch," Robb answers cheerfully. "So there was no way for it all to go wrong for me. I'm glad you can come, though. It's too long there and back to be alone with my own dull thoughts."

She could not fail to laugh at that cheerful analysis of the situation. At times, Robb reminded her of Eomer as a young man. The cooks at Meduseld had despaired of ever filling his belly. Robb was a bit older than that now, which was fortunate for the entire island.

She saddled Lorica deftly and checked all the fastenings, being especially careful of any attempt by Lorica to blow her belly out and cause the girth straps to be loose.

"I am pleased to be able to save you from such a fate, then," she replied solemnly. "Though I do not know if Lorica shares your sentiments."

Robb shrugs, flashing Eowyn a broad grin over his shoulder as he saddles Raven. "Lorica doesn't talk much, she's not great company. Probably better for me that way, though. The gods know what she'd have to say."

"I think perhaps it would involve complaints about her grain," Eowyn decided, then patted Lorica on the nose so that she would know that Eowyn was merely jesting.

"Were there any reports of inhabitants at the new house or merely that it is present?"

Robb sniffs. "Hmph. She has no call for complaints about her grain." He pats the horse's neck anyway, and leads Raven out of the stable to mount.

"Just present, as far as I know. It's not unheard of--it might be waiting for someone, or it might be part of a larger change. It's hard to say until we get a better look."

Eowyn likewise led Lorica out behind Raven (after perhaps giving her a small treat) and then mounted smoothly once she was safely outdoors.

"But it is certainly something that should be examined," she agreed, patting Lorica and settling her overskirt so that it would not spook Lorica by appearing at the edge of her vision. She had not yet chosen to wear trousers, as they called them here, or at least not without an overskirt or overdress. There was no use in wearing a particularly fine garment to ride a horse, but she had recently tried to wear garments that were not quite as dirty and worn. She could not have said why, but she had.

"Exactly, and if it means we can make a picnic of it, so much the better, right?" Robb has long since learned not to offer her assistance mounting--not that he ever thought she needed it, but it had once been a polite habit his mother would have insisted on. He still waits till she's up, then mounts himself.

She thought she had a good grasp of Westron after her time on the island, but she was not sure what a picnic was or what it portended. Certainly it was a meal, but it seemed to have some meaning beyond that, at least from Robb's response.

"It is a pleasant day to be outdoors," she replied instead. "Neither too hot nor too cold. The horses will be unlikely to overheat even if we were to race ... and you were to lose."

Robb has never been able to resist a challenge like that, whether from Jon Snow in Winterfell or his friends here on the island, no matter how adult he supposedly grows to be. "That's one possibility," he grins back at her, "but not the most likely."

"Is it not?" she replied casually. "Are you so convinced that Raven has not been loafing in the pasture?"

They both knew that Raven had been ridden frequently and was in very good form, but that was not entirely the point.

"As sure as I am that Lorica is getting slower in her old age," Robb says loftily, trying and failing miserably to suppress a smile.

She could not keep up such an act for long, and she laughed heartily at Robb's attempt not to smile. It made him seem as if he were ready to sneeze.

"I suppose we must just ride, then, and allow our aged companions to relax," she decided, patting Lorica so that the mare would know it was a joke. Some did not believe that horses could understand, but she had known horses from the lines of the Mearas, which certainly were capable of understanding speech.

"Oh yes, we must respect the aged ones," Robb laughs. And certainly of the horses stabled at Summerfell, these are two most likely to; Lorica has always been a gifted horse and Raven is bred from the Dothraki bloodlines. In any case, neither seem especially bothered by their riders' banter, walking brisk and alert along the path.

"We must not, however, respect the clothing chest," she noted. "For it has been insistent in providing me with strange garments lately. Do you know the purpose of a ... bikini?"

One of the advantages to riding with Robb was being able to discuss island events without concern that others would be confused by her lack of understanding of modern items.

"For swimming in," Robb answers, with an admirable job of not reacting. But then, this is a trick the clothes box likes to pull over and over again. "I think being given them is some kind of initiation rite."

Rohan had not had many swimming areas in its rivers, which were too swift, too sluggish, or located in dangerous areas. However, Eowyn had enjoyed the small pools here on the island and even a few forays into the ocean. She was careful to go when none were present, though, and had not worn anything so small as a bikini.

"Men and women both wear these things? How does one know if one has succeeded at the rite?" she queried. "Must one merely take a bikini or does the box have some way of knowing whether one has worn it?"

"I don't know," Robb shrugs. "I'm never entirely sure how much sentient evil to attribute to the box, in all truth. But no, to answer your first question. Their only for women. The top bit might look a bit ridiculous on a man," he adds, with an undercurrent of laughter.

"I have seen the inhabitants here wear any number of strange garments, or at least strange to me," she pointed out. "A man here might well wear one, if one could be found that suited his form."

She liked the island inhabitants, or at least did not dislike them, but she did find their choices strange at times. But then, they likely found her choices to be strange.

Robb considers this, and shrugs. "A fair point," he concedes. "I still think it would look ridiculous, but that hardly means someone wouldn't do it." He looks over his shoulder at her, curious. "What would you use at home?"

"We did not often go in the water," Eowyn replied. "The rivers of the Mark were not ideal for such things. They all seemed to be too swift, too slow and full of insects, or too dangerous. When we did swim, I wore old garments. I did not know that there were garments specifically for the water and the sand until I arrived. Gondor may have had such, and perhaps the elves do as well, but I would not know."

She could not even conceive of Dwarves swimming, though she did not doubt that they could. They were so inclined to secrecy that no non-Dwarf would ever see it if they did, she was sure.

"Maybe," Robb shrugs, and flashes her a grin. "We just stripped everything off. Unless my sisters were there, in which case we stripped off what we could get away with. Sansa liked to tell us how scandalous we were being. But Winterfell was built over hot springs. It was fine in, but once you got out, you didn't want wet clothes clinging to you. It'd freeze before you got them off."

Robb so oft reminded her of Eowyn and Theodred and she laughed at his gleeful grin. She could entirely imagine her brother and her cousin doing exactly that. She had often felt herself to be more of a boy than a girl and would likely have stripped off with them if not for the watchful eyes of their nurse, who would have provided the comments about their scandalous behavior.

"No, I would not wish to wear wet clothing in the cold," she agreed. "I do not mind wet and I do not mind cold, but wet and cold are thoroughly disagreeable. Fortunately, that is not something this place often experiences."

"Exactly. But once a year, and even we mad Northmen know better than to go swimming then," Robb laughs. The conversation has taken an interesting turn, and if he is thinking about Eowyn's choice (or not) of swimming attire more than he probably ought to, he manages to keep it to himself.

"Not all do," she noted. "And I do also think them mad for swimming in such conditions. I know I am more inured to cold and wind than others are, and you are even more so, but it still seems foolish. Someone once said it was 'polar bear' swimming, though I have never seen such bears here."

She found herself considering Robb in swimming attire, though she should not. She did recall seeing him mucking stables with no shirt and knew he was not ill-formed to say the least.

"Nor have I, and I hope not to," Robb says earnestly. "Although I suppose it might keep the direwolves busy, chasing it. I worry enough about things like dinosaurs getting free and encountering Reynald or Bran."

It's not a worry he voices, because he knows it makes him sound a frightful old woman. But he's lost his family so many times, and it's not as if nothing has ever threatened his son or his brother's life before.

Eowyn shuddered at the idea. She was quite fond of both Reynald and Bran, and would not wish them to be harmed. She knew Robb had lost so much and this island was a haven for him.

"The direwolves would quite enjoy that," she agreed. She had fully accepted that they were not wargs and indeed enjoyed interacting with them now. Grey Wolf had a most mischievous sense of humor for a wolf.

"And they would protect Summerfell as far as they were able, which is quite far."

"That's true enough." And Robb knows it is, which is why such concerns don't plague him far more than they do. "And the Council keep a close eye on the fences, and all the other reasons I ought not to worry. So I won't, for the afternoon at least."

"No, there shall be no worrying this day," Eowyn agreed with an edge of playfulness that few knew her to have. "It is forbidden."

Robb twists in his saddle to flash a teasing grin over his shoulder. "Forbidden, is it? Is there a standard sentence for worrying, or is it entirely up to the judge?"

She had not known the concept of flirting in so many words before the island, and she still believed that she was not competent at it as others here defined it.

"Are not all sentences left to the judge's discretion?" she asked, grinning right back at Robb. Perhaps this was flirting and perhaps it was not.

Robb is generally abysmal at it, but then, handsome young men who are the heirs to great houses seldom really need to learn, and young rebels have other things on their minds. He stumbles around more often than not. But the grin is real mischief, after all. "Ah, well. You would think so, but even kings are beholden to the laws," he laughs. "Though perhaps not in all instances."

"A ruler must be wise," she agreed, "But what fun is being king - or queen, perhaps - if one cannot decide when one's judgment is wiser than all others at times? My brother would argue such a thing most strongly, were he here."

Were he here, he would probably be glaring at Robb for no reason, so it is best that he is not.

Robb manufactures a look of stunned surprise. "Wait--being king is meant to be fun? Maybe that's why so many people in Westeros were desperate to try it." He hadn't found it fun past the first exhilerating moment, but he had tried very hard to be good at it, all the same.

"I do not think my Lord Uncle often found it so, but I think it may have some elements that could be fun," she mused. "I would not know, for I shall never be king."

For so many reasons, too.

"You're not missing anything," Robb says cheerfully. "Mostly it's people arguing with you, questioning your judgement, or outright trying to kill you. In my experience, anyway."

"That is far too similar to my uncle's experience," she mused. "Perhaps it is indeed universal. Still, Eomer will be an excellent king. And he will find fun. I am sure of it."

"I am too," Robb says, though he has no reason to be sure of any such thing. "I expect it would have had its moments, if I'd had more of a chance to sit back and enjoy it. There must be some reason so many people wanted the job, after all."

"You would think so, would you not?" she agreed. "How much further is this house that has appeared? Should we stop for lunch ere we arrive there?"

Lorica was content to move along at the leisurely pace they had set, but perhaps Robb would like to pause for lunch.

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A ride with Robb [AU]

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