Lady Roslin stoked the hearth while violence raged in the halls. She flinched at every scream and clanging of swords. Scanning her chamber, her frantic gaze located the bookshelf.
"I shall miss my books most," she said to herself.
She placed a hand on the small bump of her stomach and waited. The sounds of swords increased in volume and the death screams mixed with the wailing of women and children. She heard fighting in the space outside her room and placed a hand upon her chest.
"For my brother." She heard a voice say. A sword crashed to the floor, followed by an anguished groan of pain.
"I..." a voice that sounded like her brother began, but did not continue. A heavy thud of a sword meeting flesh silenced the voice.
She gasped as the footsteps approached and a jumped at the pounding on the door.
"Doom is come," she whispered and approached the door.
The pounding continued and she reached her tiny hand toward the latch.
"Open the door." A familiar male voice said.
She opened the door to see Jon Snow pointing a sword at her. The blade was dripping with blood, which caused her to gasp again.
"Jon..." she began, but he pressed a finger to her lips, silencing her.
He sheathed his sword and closed the door behind him. Pulling her into a deep embrace, he gripped her hair in his hands.
"What is going on out there?"
"Justice," he said. He led her towards the bed and sat beside her, taking her hands in his own.
"I trust you received all my ravens," she said.
"I did. Thank you for the letters. I responded as often as duty allowed." She blushed and walked to the bookshelf to retrieve a letter.
“To Roslin, with Love.” she read with a smile.
“You kept it.” Jon said.
“I kept all of your letters,” she said. She brushed a curl of hair off his face and ran a finger over his cheek. Jon kissed her while his hands travelled over her body.
The clanging violence came to an end outside the chambers, which led to welcome silence. Roslin knit her brows and looked into Jon's eyes.
“They will be coming for me.”
“I will protect you.” Jon said.
“And the baby.”
“The baby.” Jon repeated with a sigh. “That makes it difficult to bear.”
“What?” she asked.
“Nothing.” He tried to embrace her once again, but she waved him away and walked to the window. A soft breeze touched her face while she gazed into the evening sky.
“I was sorry to hear about your wedding.” Jon whispered as he approached her. His voice was thick and cracked with emotion.
“The wedding…” she began, but was interrupted by a pounding on the door.
“Jon!” A voice screamed.
Jon put a finger to his lips and Roslin nodded that she understood.
“I wish we met before the war between our families,” he whispered into her ear. She shook her head and wiped a tear away.
Once more someone pounded on the door and Jon sighed when Roslin began to shiver in his arms. She shook, fear overtaking her self-control.
“No,” she screamed.
He grabbed her by the waist and shoulder, heaved her out the window and leaned over the sill to watch her fall.
“For my mother,” he said.